Games of Deception (Hawkeye/Avengers)

Chapter 26 - Truth Revealed

-Jacqueline's P.O.V-

I grunted as a sharp pain shot through my lower back, and leaned back against the cold metal wall behind me. Why is it so hard to put on a damn pair of socks?

Somehow, yet again I found myself trapped in one of the small rooms of the infirmary. This time, it seemed that my main goal was to stay conscious and not bleed to death. Luckily, I was able to get help fast enough so that this was possible. I hadn't experienced nearly as much pain as I knew I should have in that time, either because I was in such a shocked state or because the Tesseract energy in my body was able to defer it. Bruce had mentioned it was possible, after all.

Bruce. Just thinking about him made my stomach turn. The images of what I'd seen him transform into, what he had become, playing over in my mind like a broken record. I could have died, anyone and everyone could have been dead in that moment and I wouldn't have had a clue, which was why I was immensely relieved when Clint swung the door open, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Oh, thank God." He breathed when he noticed my presence, and before I could react our lips merged together almost desperately, something I would have never expected from him. We parted only seconds later, but he kept my face in his hands while searching my eyes.

"What's gotten into you, Spock?" I asked lightly, but he only half-smiled before dropping his hands and stepping back from me.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked lowly, scanning me over.

"Uh." I looked down at my bare feet, and felt color creeping up in my face when I recalled I wasn't exactly dressed, unless you counted your typical hospital gown-thing and a pair of shorts as adequate clothing. Which I don't. Oops.

Clint stared back at me, clearly amused at how I was suddenly so uncomfortable. I narrowed my eyes at him and he laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Need some help?"

"No." I answered stiffly, lowering myself down onto the chair that rested against the wall where I had moved to find the rest of my clothes, finally managing to slide on the socks I wore underneath my boots. "I just want my suit."

"You mean this?"

I looked up to him, seeing that he was now holding a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform in his hands. He handed it to me and I set it into my lap with a sigh.

"This isn't mine." I stated, noticing that this one was a little different. The last suit I'd been wearing was simply a black full-body suit with no special markings, likely just a random extra that was lying around that really served no purpose. This one came with some sort of odd metal bands attached around the hems of the sleeves, and a S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia was patched on each shoulder.

"Well, your last one kind of got shredded..." Clint replied, hesitantly adding, "and this one is custom. Those bands are magnets that are supposed to help you control the Tesseract energy. Or something like that." He didn't sound entirely sure.

"Tony?" I asked, almost rolling my eyes. Clint nodded.

"Well...thanks." I stood up slowly, although I struggled a bit; even though I wasn't in as much pain as I should have been, I was still hurting quite a lot. But that was something I had become accustomed to over time. It would pass eventually, right?

Clint met my eyes, and pressed his lips together when he saw the cuts in my arms and the one on my neck, which could have potentially been fatal in itself. I was definitely lucky to be breathing; we both were. I wanted to ask him how many we had lost from the ship, but was almost afraid to know the answer.

"How long has it been since anyone came down here?" he asked, his voice now more serious. His eyes reflected the concern I'd had for him while I had been trapped in that room by myself. Despite how much I tried not to, I couldn't get the thought of whether he was okay out of my head, and it gave me a weird feeling; who was I now? To care about someone that much, something in me had changed drastically.