Work Text:
Clint Barton was peacefully sleeping in his bedroom in Stark Tower in his top second floor when his phone rang. He muttered something of a curse to the unknown caller and checked the digital clock that rested on his nightstand- 3:32 am.
His heart rhythm accelerated. It couldn’t be good news, never this late. Natasha had been on a mission for the last 8 days on deep cover and he knew she would be returning soon, but they had no way of contacting each other so a call at this hour could only be an emergency… or worse. He tried not to think about worst case scenarios as he picked up the phone, already well awake.
‘Tasha?’ he didn’t bother with hellos.
‘Barton’ a familiar but definitely not Natasha’s voice said. ‘It’s Hill’.
‘What happened, is she okay?’ Clint was sitting in his bed by now.
‘She just got to base and is on her way there, Clint.’ He let out a sigh of relief. ‘But she refused medical, she literally told them to fuck off’ Clint got worried again.
Natasha usually complained about getting medical attention, he hated it too, but she only walked out cursing when something was really wrong. She was like that. ‘Just thought you might want a heads up’ Hill explained. ‘And Clint… make sure she’s alright’. He didn’t need to answer, of course he would. They hung up and Clint got out of bed. He was already wearing training pants to bed, so he put an old T-Shirt on and remained barefoot.
He washed his face in the bathroom to be fully awake and went to the lobby to wait for her return.
At 4:07 am, Natasha Romanoff walked into Stark Tower, the place she now called home. She was bruised and battered and bleeding and kind of limping, but
she didn’t care. She just wanted to be home. She was so exhausted she didn’t notice her partner sitting down on a chair in the corner. When he called her name, he took her by surprise. Clint stared at her for a full second; trying to take in the sigh of her injured body and his face grew worried.
‘Nat’ Clint looked at her. She looked awfully hurt and extremely tired. He swallowed hard.
She tried her best to smile at him but was too tired to pretend she was fine. He offered his hand to her. She never took her eyes off his and answered coldly ‘I’m fine, Clint’. She started heading for the elevator, but her left leg, the one she had been limping only felt worse after a minute of standing still and she almost tripped. He was next to her grabbing her by the waist in a heartbeat.
‘Come on, you need to get that looked at’ with his help, they made it to the elevator. She didn’t complain this time. He pushed the button for his floor. Natasha had one hand on Clint’s shoulder. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up. Clint stared at her without saying a word. She was in pain. He could hear her erratic breathing. She needed help ASAP.
When they got to his floor, he guided her straight to the bathroom. He turned all the lights on and closed the door behind him.
‘What the hell happened, Nat?’ he asked as he stood in front of her. She was losing color by the second.
‘Turns up people don’t usually go down without a fight.’ She smiled as wide as she could, which wasn’t much. ‘Not even an army of 20 bad guys with guns’.
He moved his head from right to left disapprovingly. ‘Take that off’ he ordered pointing at her half tore up cat suit.
She smirked but obeyed. ‘You should buy me a drink first, Barton’.
It was his time to smirk. ‘We’ll do that tomorrow’.
He helped get both arms out of the suit. It was hanging by her waist when his smile dropped. ‘Jeez Nat, what the hell?’ he pointed at a stab wound by her ribcage. It was covered in dry blood. There were purple bruises all around the injury and cuts with small pieces of glass all over her chest and back.
He grabbed her by the waist with one hand and inspected the wound with the other. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw when she felt the pressure of his fingers on her skin. He trailed her fingers up her ribs and she let out a painful moan. ‘I think you broke a couple’ He looked at her but her eyes were still closed. She nodded and rested both her hands on his shoulders as leverage. She was pale.
He helped her get out of the suit. On the leg she was limping, the left one, she had a gunshot wound that was still bleeding. ‘A stab wound, a gunshot wound, broken ribs, cuts, bruises… how the hell are you still standing?’ he was worried and spoke a little louder than usual. She opened her eyes and looked him straight in the eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ll be for much longer’. He frowned and before he realized what she meant, she passed out.
‘Fuck’ He mouthed. He quickly turned the shower on, as hot as it allowed it, took his own clothes off until he was in his underwear, took Natasha on his arms and got them both in the shower. He sat her right under the hot stream of water. He grabbed antibacterial soap that was next to his regular soap but he could tell apart and started washing her wounds.
He took care of the GSW on her left leg first, since it was still bleeding a bit. It must have stung a lot, because she came back to. She slowly opened her eyes and mouthed ‘Ouch’. Her face was going back to her usual color. Clint smiled at her. ‘Well, Doctor Clint is trying to prevent you get that infected, but since you refused an actual doctor, it probably hurts’
She smiled and tried to sit a little straighter. ‘I like Doctor Clint’s method better anyway’. He laughed. ‘Can you stand?’ he asked. Her leg had stopped bleeding, but he needed to check the rest of her.
She nodded slowly and he helped her stand. She put each hand on his shoulders. He went to the stab wound on her ribs next. She closed her eyes and let the hot water run wild through her hair.
‘It’s not too deep’ she tilted her head back down and looked at him observing her wound. ‘Those bruises look bad though, you should let medical check for internal damage’ he looked at her, waiting for an answer. She didn’t give one, so he suggested ‘I can wake Banner and make him run a scan-‘ ‘Tomorrow, Clint’ she rested her head on his shoulder. ‘I just wanna go to bed’ she whispered. He nodded and kept working in silence. When he finished washing all her wounds carefully, she looked at him, full color on her face.
‘Turn around’ he said and she did. He bended down and inspected her legs first. There were some cuts he cleaned but nothing major. He tried his best to ignore her ass and went straight to her waist and back. There were some cuts but mostly bruising. She rested both hands on the wall to maintain balance. The only ugly cut started a little down the line of her bra and went all the way to her shoulder blade. He didn’t ask permission, he just unclasped her bra.
‘Now you really owe me a drink’ she said in a playful tone. He smiled. ‘I’ll get us both drunk tomorrow, promised’. She used one hand to cover her chest while the other remained on the wall as support. He started washing her wound. That one stung the most, so she continued his game to keep her head off the pain. ‘Oh yeah? That’s gonna cost you, Barton’ she turned her head behind her back to stare at him. He was smiling. ‘Remember Slovenia?’ she asked looking straight to his eyes. ‘You’ll never let me forget’ he said and she smirked.
Slovenia had been four years ago. On the last night there, once they had completed their mission, they decided to celebrate with a drink. Then another. Then another. Clint had bet he could get her drunk in no time and she accepted, having bet the loser would do the paperwork on the entire mission. Clint got stuck with it, discovering he couldn’t out drink his Russian partner before passing out. He had also been cursed with a killed hangover while Natasha laughed at him. To this day, Clint Barton had never seen Natasha drunk, but he vaguely remembered swearing that cold night in Slovenia that he would do, no matter what, get her to a high state of drunkenness.
He smiled at the memory. ‘Got a promise to keep’ he said and turned the water off. She turned around, one hand doing a lousy job covering her chest. He tried not to look and she smirked. He got two towels and wrap Natasha in one. He used his own to dry his legs, chest and hair and hung it around his waist as he got the first aid kit from inside the sink’s mirror.
She passed behind him to his room and sat on his bed. She closed her eyes and realized she was exhausted. When she opened them, Clint was standing in front her, observing her silently. He had changed his clothes and was now wearing dry underwear and a pair of pants. She hadn’t even notice time go by. She needed to sleep.
He placed the medical kit on the bed next to her and got a bottle of antiseptic.
‘Stand up’ He drenched a cotton ball in it and looked at his partner apologetically. She did as ordered. ‘This is gonna hurt’
‘I know, Barton, it’s not my first time.’ She arranged her towel so it was covering her chest but her side and back were clear for him to work on. ‘Let’s get it over with’.
He nodded and placed the cotton ball on the injury on her ribs.
She put a hand on his chest and closed her eyes. He covered the whole wound with the liquid and covered it with gauze. He repeated the process on her two other major wounds.
When he finished, she opened her eyes in relief. ‘Thanks, Clint’ she offered him the most genuine of smiles and his heart skipped a beat.
He put the antiseptic and gauze back in the kit and took it to its place in the bathroom. When he walked in his room again, Natasha’s towel was on the floor next to his closet. She was wearing a pair of old boxers that she knew he never wore and kept for her in cases like this. She had her bare back to him and was putting one of his old t-shirts on. He stood by the door, mesmerized by that woman. God, he loved her. He smiled to himself. She turned around and smile at him shyly. He loved that Natasha Romanoff got to be genuinely shy around him.
He stood in front of her pulled her in for a hug. She held him tightly. He kissed her forehead and she smiled again. Without saying a word, he took her hand and guided her to his bed, where both of them fell asleep in each other’s arms instantly.