Ok, well here's a thing for me. It's pretty easy. Here: (D)=Drabble , (S)=Story. Pretty simple. But this one, I'll be adding to. It was a drabble at first but then I got an idea and I needed to express it. I hope you like them x
-michaelastark
---------------------------------------------
1.
Clint looked down at the lifeless body in the hospital bed. How did this happen? How was Bruce here? All Clint remembered was the faded phone call and then rush to the emergency room. Everything was flashing by now. The lights, the nurses, the needles, the medication, it all seemed to be a blur. All Clint could focus on was Bruce. He held the mans hand tight as he ran beside the bed as it got rushed to the prep room for surgery. And this was really happening; Bruce was really dying this time. But how. How could he escape it so many other times but just this once he didn't. The doctor began to tell Clint to let go as the double doors got closer. Clint couldn't, his solid grip on Bruce's hand not letting go anytime soon. The tears were already streaming down his face in a steady pace and his shirt had tears stains on it, the salt gathering where it hit the most. He watched as Bruce's eyes fluttered and he mumbled. The doctor pulled the cart over to the side.
"What is it Freckles.." Clint pushed past the tears and sniffled, clearing his airway.
"Remember.. I.. I love.. You.." Bruce panted out. He remembered how Bruce would call him cheesy for saying is so many times. He kissed Bruce's hand, his eyes slipping closed and the beeping on the monitor began to slow.
"Doctor we need to get him in fast.." The nurse nearly shouted.
"Cupid.. Go.. I'll be back.." Bruce pushed out, forcing a hard yet caring smile.
Clint's hand slipped out of Bruce's and he watched as Bruce and the doctors sped down the hall, bursting through the double doors.
Even Bruce knew this was bad. He had never ever been sick this long. He didn't know what as happening. Bruce never got sick, well he did but his body got over it in less than a week.
Clint did remember Bruce trying a new medicine. Something he conjured up in the lab to help him stabilise. He always worried about when Bruce did things like this. He didn't like the chemicals, and he never liked when he wouldn't let Tony help. They were both geniuses and Bruce knew he could use Tony as a right hand man.
Clint but his lip as he looked down the hall, starring at the double-doors. He knew it was something in the test run. He began to back away, hitting a wheelchair in the process. He turned and ran, pushing past people and bolting through the sliding doors. He grabbed the keys to his car and fumbled with them to unlock the door. He mumble to himself about how he could have stopped him from doing it or how he could have save him. But he knew the last one wasn't so true. He slid in the car, not bothering to buckle.
"It's my turn to save you, big boy." he mumbled, like the bad boy in a crime movie, as he started the car and switched to reverse. He backed up and switched to drive and hit the gas, leaving a screeching noise as he trail. He sped past cars and switched through traffic. He made a sharp turn and pulled into the bottom parking of the Stark tower.
"Tony!!" He yelled as if Tony could hear him right away.
"Mr. Stark is in his office, Agent Barton." JARVIS said in his calm British tone.
"Damn it." Clint said under his breath as he ran to the elevator. He pressed the up and the doors slid open. "Stark's office please." He commanded the voice activated elevator. The elevator swished up and the doors opened with in a minuet.
"Tony!" Clint shouted as he ran into the lab to see him starring back.
"What bird-brain?" Tony replied, standing a little taller shocks by the scared tone Clint had.
"Bruce--" Clint's voice cracked a little. "He's hurt.. He's in the hospital.." He chocked out.
"What?!" Tony stood up a little more and pushed the screen aside.
"They said something bad is wrong.." Clint stumbled more.
"But.. But he never gets sick." Tony was a little confused by all of this.
"But he is this time Tony!" Clint was getting more and more frustrated.
Tony sat there for a minuet. "Could it be the medicine?" He immediately had the same thought as Clint.
"I told him he should have let you help." Clint said, a few tears rolling down his cheek.
