Fears of the Widow

Control for that Matter

"Lay back down. Lay back down, Natasha," Stark commanded. He was pulling out equipment from a transportable cart as Natasha grabbed her head, squeezing it between her palms.

Her head shook viciously, sweat streaking her face again, "I ca-I ca-I ca-" she cried frantically, gulping.

"Its okay. It's okay," Clint held her arms and helped her lay back, "Nat, you're okay."

Natasha shivered uncontrollably, her body stiff, "cli-clin..."

"You gotta calm down," Bruce came into her blurry vision, helping Tony with his instruments, "just relax. You don't have to speak. Just relax."

Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, then slowly opened them, searching the room for Steve. He wasn't there. Why wasn't he there? Why was she here? Why was anyone here? Where was Clint?

She turned her head to the side, finding a shellshocked master archer standing over her warily. His eyes were sunken in and exhausted, but he seemed as alert as ever. He noticed her pleading stares and rested his hand on her bare shoulder, forcing a grin.

"Natasha, you need to take a deep breath, okay?" Stark spoke to her childishly. She was going to shoot him for that. Shoot him! Shoot him? Why would she do that? Why would she shoot Tony? Where was she? What the heck happened?

No. Don't freak out. Calm down and ask questions. Talk. TALK! Stop panting. Stop sweating! HOLY CRAP! What happened to her arm? Why was it throbbing? What was going on? No. Stop freaking out. Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!

Natasha slowed her breathing and took control of her frantic mind again. Stark eyed her warily, "Nat, can you hear me?"

"Yes," she responded quickly. Too quickly perhaps, but she wanted answers. Now. Everyone looked a bit startled by her abrupt answer.

Stark stared, then dropped his gaze and pressed the stethoscope to her body. She breathed in and out with silent tension rising in the room. Possibly hope. Or more than that. Fear. Worry. Something other than hope.

"Your vitals seem fine, now," Stark walked around the bed and reduced the morphine dosage.

Clint murmured, "that's not reassuring."

"Nothing is certainly reassuring," Natasha snapped at Clint. Whoa. Where did that come from?

He got you stabbed in the arm, nitwit! Then rather than help the situation even a little, he hit you where you were stabbed! That's why you're mad at him! Her mind relayed the past days events with fast rapidity. It's practically the worst kind of betrayal. He's the reason you're dying. He practically poisoned you himself.

"I was just... It was just an expression," Clint stammered, his brow line creasing into frustration and confusion.

Natasha glared at him profusely before turning to Tony, "how long do I have?"

Tony's eyes blanked for a few minutes, and he eyed the ground either to hide from her of from Clint. Barton's mouth hung open in shock, his eyes darting between Nat and Tony. Bruce was the last to realize that Tony hadn't told Clint what the poison would eventually do. I mean, Bruce figured it out after working all those lab experiments on poison from Fury, but Clint was neither a researcher nor a scientist.

"She's dying?" Barton spoke in aimless questions, "you're dying? She's dying? She's dying?"

Nat rolled her eyes, "all of you, grow up!" Maybe she sounded glad to be dying or maybe this was how she dealt with such horrid news... No one deserved this type of bereavement. Not even the black widow.

"Two weeks tops, maybe less," Bruce spoke up, "at least that's how long I've acquired from the lab rats."

"What?" Nat blanked, "SHIELD knew about this poison?

"You know, Natasha," Bruce replied, "I'm not worried about what SHIELD does and doesn't know. The thing that bothers me is the fact that two seconds ago you were in a coma, and now you're up and questioning people."

Stark and Clint seemed to think for a minute before Tony spoke up, "He's got a point. This poison is either doing something weird to you or you aren't the one talking at all."

Natasha's blinked, perplexity crossing her face. Was it her that was talking? Of course it was. Don't be stupid. She was in control and no one else. But she had just been in a coma and now she was fine...

"The affects of her wound!" Clint sputtered quickly.

Natasha glared, her perplexity increasing, "What are you even-"

Clint interrupted her, "every time she hit her wound she was momentarily out of it. Perhaps the intensity and force of the hit has something to do with the amount of time it takes for her to recuperate."

That was absolutely... Actually that made sense. It made a lot of sense. Except she was still dying. Crap. Screw this world and all the others...

"Well since I'm okay, I'm going to go get a shower now," Nat pulled the IV from her hand and twisted to the side to come off the bed.

Stark suddenly stepped in front of her, "you're not going anywhere till we stop whatever this is that's killing you. That starts with running tests to figure out what this is!"

Nat's instinct was to punch him, but she held her fists down at her sides and calmly replied, "Bruce said he knows what kind of poison it is. Ask him. You don't need to do any tests on me."

She could feel the intensity, and Stark was about to threaten her when Clint spoke up, "I'll watch her!" A moment of silence before he corrected himself, "I mean I will make sure nothing bad happens and call you if she has any problems."

Natasha did not want Clint Barton, her so called partner, to be the one babysitting her. He freaking put you in sick bay! You could have died! Who says he won't do it again?

"Or Steve. Steve could," Nat blurted out before she could process how she sounded, and how much it would hurt Clint.

Stark and Bruce were both silent well except for Tonys 'Aco-taco' side comment... Everyone was silent. Especially Clint who's heart was currently in his knees.

"Natasha, you pick someone to watch you, and they better be with you at all times," Stark finally implemented his thoughts... Well some of them... His mind probably blurted out smart ass remark after remark, but Nat was sick and now wasn't the time.

Natasha set her mouth in a thin, emotionless line, "where is the Captain?"

Bruce responded, "he went to his room, but that was awhile ago. I'd check the gym again. After this long of a break he's probably dying to punch something."

No one said anything else. Nat broke out in a speed walk with Tony to find Steve and give him his new orders. Meanwhile, Clint stood frozen, blistering red in surprise and shock.

Bruce patted his back, "you were the one that put her here."

Clint's eyes squeezed shut, knuckles blistering white, "it wasn't my fault."

"The poison no, and we know that. You know that and I know that, but that doesn't mean that she knows that. She's angry and confused. Maybe giving her some space would be for the best," Bruce replied simply stated and incredibly truthful.

Clint turned around, "she's my partner. My best friend. I'm not just going to leave her alone. Not if she only has two weeks to live."

"It was just an opinion."

"I don't need any opinion. I need her I be okay! Okay?"

"I'll get to work. But she needs space."

Clint grunted and stormed off.

How could she prefer Steve over him? She better get out of this little mood! It was pissing him off. She was pissing him off. Everything was pissing him off. She was his partner. It was his job to protect her... Which he failed to do when she was poisoned... But there was no way he could have taken such a slim shot past her. He could have hit her. Maybe that's why she was so pissed... He would have always taken that shot. Always. So why hadn't he taken that shot?