Games of Deception (Hawkeye/Avengers)

Chapter 21 - The New Member of the Team

-Jacqueline's P.O.V-

A clicking of a door being closed was the first thing I heard, then a few hushed footsteps that seemed to stop as they got closer to me. I could sense that I was lying down, but my eyes refused to open and I couldn't feel anything. I tried to speak, hoping someone would hear me, but only a hoarse cough came from my mouth. I focused on regaining awareness and my senses slowly came back. I blinked several times, finally beginning to see light coming down from the ceiling.

Cautiously I turned my head to my right, where I'd heard the footsteps cease, and met the same pair of eyes that I'd last seen before I'd lost consciousness. I felt one of Clint's hands rest on top of my own as he looked down at me, letting out a sigh that seemed almost relieved.

"Hey."

"Hey." I smiled weakly at him and he returned it, moving his hand from my own to the lower part of my back and supporting it as I slowly sat up. I felt slightly dizzy at the movement and sat staring straight ahead for a moment, waiting it out.

"How are you feeling?" Clint asked, his voice low as I tried to fully wake up. I scanned the room, slowly recalling what had happened and realizing that I was in the infirmary. As expected, grey metal walls surrounded us, with a couple of cabinets off to the side on the opposite wall likely filled with medical supplies. There was a small window at eye level on the door, and to the right side of the bed next to where Clint stood, there was a small table with a glass of water and various other items scattered on it.

"Like I got hit by a truck." I replied. I glanced down at my arm, noticing a bruise had formed where the antidote had been injected. I cringed at the thought of what it had felt like, and when I looked back up Clint had taken the glass of water from the table and held it out to me. I gratefully took it from him, taking several sips of the cool liquid and allowing it to ease my throat before handing it back to him.

He put it back onto the table and turned back to me, scanning me over with concern. I still wasn't entirely comfortable with this, and looked down at my hands that now sat in my lap.

"How long was I out?" I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to know the answer.

"About six hours."

I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair and pulling it away from my face. Clint was still looking down at me, but was keeping his distance. I guess he was still concerned as to if I would try anything again. But I didn't have the energy, or the incentive for that matter. I'd already decided that I would join the 'team' when asked, I didn't have anything else anymore.

Clint seemed to pick up on this and sighed lightly. He grabbed a chair that sat in the corner of the room, pulling it over and sitting down next to me. He looked down when he spoke up. "Jacqueline, what I said, about-"

"Did you mean it?" I stopped him, already knowing what he was going to say. "That you really...you know." I still hadn't met his eyes, afraid of what I would see in them. I hadn't stopped thinking about the things he had said to me since it had happened. I was afraid that he hadn't really meant to say he loved me after all, and although I would accept it if he hadn't, I dreaded to hear those words come from him. I wanted to believe that he really meant it.

Clint looked back up to me. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"Why?" I felt pathetic for letting the question escape my thoughts, but it was something that I truly didn't understand. My voice had begun to shake when I added, "You know everything I've done, what I am...I could have killed you. I wanted to kill you. So why-"

I paused and looked back up at him. His expression had changed from concerned to almost pleading, begging me to see what he saw in me. It was that look in his eyes as we stared back at each other that reminded me of what we had had before I'd been taken by S.H.I.E.L.D. Sure, at first it was just a way to keep each other from finding out about our true intentions. I thought back to the first time we'd kissed and the times after that, the time we both failed at dancing at Mariah's party but drank and laughed about it anyway, and the evenings we'd spent together just talking and enjoying each other's company, even though we'd both been somewhat testing each other the whole time. There was no denying that it was real.