9 days.
17 hours.
21 minutes.
Doctor Lincoln Campbell was the first to arrive at Clint's observation room. He carried an IV kit and a medical ba with him, along with a bag of anesthetic solution.
Hawkeye just stared at the kit as Lincoln carried it over to him, then sat it down beside him. "I thought I might as well try to shed some light on what's going to happen in forty-five minutes."
Clint looked up at him after giving the kit a good long look. "What if I don't want the operation?" he knew something as simple as asking wouldn't help.
Lincoln smiled and shook his head. "Sorry. Director Fury already handled the paperwork." He picked up the small IV tube and uncapped the needle. "Ready?"
Clint straightened up. "W-wait. I need to see Laura before you start the damn drugs." The archer glanced at his friend, who was looking directly at him as she walked toward the door.
"I just got a text. Laura just arrived with one of Shield's agents." She stopped in front of the door and looked at the camera above it for a few seconds. The light next to the camera turned green, then the door slid into the wall. Once she was out of the room, the thick white door slid and locked shut again.
Lincoln put the cap back on the needle and glanced at the Shield standard scrubs still on the bed. "I should probably let you change into those first."
Clint eyed the change of clothes, then nervously got out of bed, grabbed the clothes, then walked into the bathroom. He closed the door in a hurry, then turned the shower on to run as he attempted to plan an escape. Of course they had to assign him a doctor who could fry his insides with an electrical surge. The Avenger growled lowly to himself as he undressed and stepped into the shower and under the water. As he ran his fingers through his hair, he watched the old blood run down his body and onto the shower floor.
21 Days
Once he was out of the shower and into his Shield issued scrubs, Clint stared at his reflection in the mirror for a good long while. He picked his hearing aids up off the sink counter and adjusted them in his ears. Clint now heard Natasha, Laura, and Lincoln speaking about him.
He sighed and walked out of the bathroom, now feeling sick to his stomach because of the unsettling nerves. Laura gasped and rushed over to him to hug him. Clint was tense for a moment before relaxing and gently hugging her back. "You're okay. Thank God you're okay..." She cried in relief.
Clint eyed Lincoln and Natasha behind her, then looked down once Lincoln motioned him over to sit back down on the bed.
Directly after Laura let him go, Clint walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling more uncomfortable with every second that passed by. "I don't suppose you've had a proper examination since your rescue? It' just a short pre-op exam. No big deal."
"You're just going to find more shit wrong with m...me!" Clint jolted when Lincoln pressed the freezing disc to his chest and back to take his vitals. "You could've warned me..."
Lincoln shrugged. "It's necessary, and you're lucky Jemma isn't doing it. She kinda doesn't trust you at the moment."
"It's not my fault that I don't want you guys cutting into me soon." Clint watched as Avenger teammate unwrap a thermometer to help Lincoln finish the exam earlier so Clint could talk to Laura. Clint bowed his head and shook it slowly before looking back up at her. "Please, Natasha...not this again..."
"Don't fight me like last time." Natasha rolled her eyes and held it in front of Clint's mouth. Her teammate just looked at her. "Open, Hawkeye."
"I'll make sure to throw up on you first after surgery." Natasha took the time to shove the device in his mouth. She then sat down next to him. "And I'll make sure they destroy your ability to talk."
Clint rolled his eyes, then looked at Laura. "Where are the kids?" He asked, holding on to the thermometer so it wouldn't fall out of his mouth. Lincoln took it out once the little device beeped.
"I wasn't allowed to bring them here, but you'll see them once you're home and recovering." Laura smiled softly. She had to leave with an agent immediately after for safety reasons, plus she had to have a consultation with Fury about Clint's future as an agent.
Lincoln looked at Natasha and Laura as he stood up and put his supplies away. "He's healthy. I can prep him now." He grabbed the IV tube and needle, then the solution bag. He handed the bag to Natasha, then wiped the area on Clint's hand where the needle would be placed.
Clint was silent for a moment until Lincoln picked the needle up and prepared to slide it into a vein. "You want me to die on that table, don't you? Hell, it would be better than being send to the Raft afterwards. No one made the call to tell Laura that I'm now an enemy to the Avengers...well, to Tony..." He winced when the needle was placed.
"That's classified, Barton, I'm sorry." Lincoln discarded the trash and left the room. Natasha kissed Clint's cheek before giving him one final look, then disappearing with Lincoln.
21 Days
He couldn't accept this.
After three minutes of lying down and watching the solution drip down into his vein, Clint had had enough. Groggy, he sat up and yanked the needle out of his hand. A small amount of blood trickled out of the puncture wound, but not enough for him to care.
Every room in Shield had an emergency firearm hidden inside, even in the observation rooms. Not caring that he was feeling the effects of the anesthetic, Clint got out of bed and searched high and low for the hidden firearm. He finally ducked down and found it pinned against the underside of the table.
He pulled the gun out and hid it in the waistline of his scrub pants. Clint perked up when he heard footsteps and the squeaking wheels of a stretcher coming down the hall. The archer got back into bed and grabbed the discarded IV needle, still attached to its tube. He stuck the needle through his new patient ID band, then pulled a blanket up around him to hide the gun and severed IV line.
Dr. Spark Plug, as Clint now referred to him as, came in with Natasha and a Shield nurse he didn't recognize. "Tired yet, Barton?"
"Getting there." Clint faked a yawn, pulling the blanket tighter around him. Natasha came over and helped him out of bed and onto the stretcher. He knew Natasha wanted to cry, but she never cried in front of people she didn't trust. Natasha just looked away.
21 Days
Clint felt more at ease when he felt the gun still tucked under the elastic waistline of his pants. Simmons was waiting for him once they reached Shield's small operating room. She walked over to him and pulled the blanket down away from his chest to place the monitor stickers on him. "Ready, Barton? This is somewhat like the time you barely pulled through surgery after that gunshot wound two years ago, remember that?"
"Great time..." Clint rolled his eyes, then began to panic when Lincoln firmly held the plastic mask over his mouth and nose. He had less than two minutes before he passed out. He had to act quickly.
Hawkeye began to fight against them, reaching up and trying to force the mask away from his face. It was all a blur. His next act was to pull the gun out, kick the blanket off, and force himself into an immediate sitting position. He aimed the gun at the doctors still in the room, then began to fire.
Lincoln, Jemma, and the rest of the Shield personnel in the room ducked for cover as Clint took fire. He shot down lights, destroyed computers, and kicked over the cart full of the different surgical tools they were about to use on him. He jumped down off the table, but immediately ducked when Lincoln shot an electrical current at his head. He ripped the patient band off, then hurried out of the room, gun still in his left hand.
The alarms started blaring and the lights turned red.
Clint ducked into the people-less lost and found room as Shield security searched everywhere for him. His heart beat one hundred miles per hour as he racked his brain to find an escape plan. He could hide in the vents! well, Shield knew where his hiding places were.
He had to get back to the tower.
21 Days
Red Nails smiled at the computer screen, seeing that Clint was on the run once again. He's still in New York, weaponless and without a friend." She sighed and looked at the facility's highly regarded agent. "Are you ready, Agent Barton?"
Barney Barton dropped his bow and quiver on the table, then picked up his shotgun, locked and loaded. He slowly looked up at her with a glare in his eyes. "As I'll ever be."
"And do you remember what your mission is?"
"End the program early and kill my little brother."
I hope you guys liked this chapter. And thank you so much for your support, votes, and reads! I don't know when exactly this story will end, but the Barney Barton problem may be one of the very last problems Clint faces. Along with the finale stuff...which I'm also excited about.
And this story made 7.5K views! I'm so happy about that and I'd just like to say thank you again!