Clint POV
I woke up when I heard someone moving around. Where the hell was I? I blinked at the ceiling before remembering that I was in Coulson's office on the couch. I started to sit up and couldn't help but tear up at the sharp pain stabbing through my ribs.
"Barton, take it easy. Coulson's stepped out for a minute to take care of something," someone said.
I lifted my hand to wipe my eyes so that I could see clearly. Sitwell was leaning against Coulson's desk cleaning his glasses.
"You sure took a beating," he commented.
"What's Coulson taking care of?" I asked.
Sitwell just smiled and ignored the question. I let my head fall back onto the arm rest and closed my eyes. Sitwell kept moving around so I couldn't ever go to sleep again. Not that I could if he had been still anyways. My ribs ached with every breath.
I almost twisted around when I heard the door opening.
"Thanks, Jasper," Coulson whispered as he came in quietly.
"Kid's awake, Phil. Did you get everything sorted?" Sitwell asked, holding out a box of tissues for me.
I yanked one out of the box and dried my eyes again, fighting down an eye roll at the worried look on Coulson's face.
"Yeah. I got it sorted out. Thanks for stepping in," Coulson replied, waving Sitwell out the door.
"How long was I out?" I asked.
"Just a couple of hours. Do you need anything?"
"Can you stop pretending like you care? Barne- my brother did it all the time after I got hurt. But he was the one to do it half the time. It's stupid. Just, stop," I snapped, wiping my eyes again.
"Are you crying?" Coulson asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"No. Just- ow- my ribs hurt," I replied.
I flinched slightly when Coulson made me sit up and pull my shirt up. I jerked away when I felt his hand run along my side.
"What the hell?" I demanded.
"I'm checking to see which ribs you broke. Or cracked. Now be still."
I glared at him for a moment before closing my eyes and biting the inside of my cheek.
Coulson's fingers brushed my side again and I couldn't help but jerk away slightly.
"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured.
"Not really worried about being hurt in that sense," I muttered, trying to ignore his hand pressing into my side.
"What?"
"Nothing," I replied quickly.
"I wish you'd told me earlier that your ribs hurt. I would have made sure that Johnson was kicked out instead of suspended for a month."
I cracked an eye open to stare at the older man.
"Wait, you got him suspended?"
"Yes. I'm taking you to the infirmary. He broke at least two ribs."
"Why would you do that!"
Coulson frowned and waved a hand for me to elaborate.
"Why would you get him suspended?" I snapped.
"In case you hadn't noticed, Clint, he attacked you."
"So? I deserved it," I muttered.
"What?" Coulson demanded.
