Avengers Stories //Oneshots//

Farmhouse Blues - (Part 4)

Second to last part! I promise! ... I also realized that this chapter had been sitting, finished, in my drafts (I write it out on a different site) and could have been posted quite the bit ago.... oopsie? *hides*

"Clint, you are not going to keep me in this bed. I need to move around!" Laura heard Tony whine from the guest bedroom as she moved through the hallway. She was at the door when she heard Clint's voice respond.

"I literally went to go find more blankets and make soup for you because you said you were hungry, and then I find you wandering around. You bet I'm not letting you leave my sight again." She peeked into the room and saw that their resident engineering genius was wrapped in his blankets like a burrito while her husband was rubbing his temples.

"Clint, how about you go finish making the soup and I'll watch him for a while. I'll be your eyes for a while," she offered, stepping inside. Clint looked conflicted, mouth open to argue before his shoulders slumped. He sighed.

"Yeah, I don't want it to burn," he started to leave the room, but turned to Tony when he was in the doorway. He pointed at his eyes, then at Tony. "I have my eyes on you," he said before going to check on the soup.

Laura watched as Tony slumped, all the fight seeming to drain out of him for a second. With the lamplight, she could tell that he still had a fever, if not a high one. Being a former SHIELD agent, she knew some things about reading people, she just wasn't very good at it sometimes. She was more into the computer and strategic parts of SHIELD. Tony was putting up a fighting front for Clint, but was quickly running out of steam.

"How are you really feeling, Tony?" She asked as she sat on the edge of the bed. She placed her hand on his forehead and he stiffened, brown eyes so wide with surprise that she thought they might pop out of his head.

His eyes flickered away from her and she could see emotions stirring there, ones he was visibly trying to fight back. He let out a deep sigh. "Tired, mostly. Kinda cold, but I'm sure I'll be hot again soon."

"Are you actually hungry?"

"Not really... but I figured it would make Clint happy if I ate something," he shrugged, closing his eyes. It was then that she realized that Tony was showing her a lot of trust in letting her watch over him despite the fact that they hadn't known each other for long. She knew that she wouldn't abuse this trust, even if he tried to push her away. If he was Uncle Tony to the kids and brother to Clint, the technically she would be his sister.

Laura hummed and removed her hand, but placed it back when his head leaned forward a little, as if following it. "Try a little, but if it's too much all you have to do is say something."

He nodded.

Clint came back a few minutes later and Tony resumed his upbeat act, whining about unable to move from his blanket confines and protesting to being fed by him. ("You're hands aren't accessible right now." "Because you made them that way, birdbrain!")

Laura left for a few minutes to grab another blanket, but by the time she returned Tony was kicking away the blankets vehemently, sweat plastered to his forehead. She placed the extra blanket at the end of the bed and she thought she saw a guilty look on his face before he wiped it away.

That man blamed himself far too much.

Tony got through half the bowl of chicken noodle soup before he could take no more and hid under the blankets, shivering again. He had started to cough more, his body trying to rid itself of the excess mucus. Clint casted a worried look to her over his shoulder and she agreed with him, if not verbally. The soup was put away and by the time the door to Tony's room was shut, he was fast asleep and snoring lightly, breath whistling in his lungs.