The past few hours had been a blur to Clint.
Natasha had been the one to call the ambulance. He hadn't realised it when he called, but he had phoned his friend by accident. He didn't even notice until he was in the waiting room and she was handing him a cup of coffee.
Pietro had been rushed into surgery as soon as they reached the hospital. Clint couldn't listen to what had been said, his hearing aids gone. Nat tried to explain but he struggled to take in the movements of her hands enough to understand, so eventually, he just zoned out.
His coffee had gone cold. He hadn't even touched it. Nat ended up throwing it in the bin and she didn't offer to get another one for him. Clint didn't ask.
He felt numb. He was covered in Pietro's blood, it was dry now, sticking to his skin and his clothes. He knew he should wash it off, clean himself up. But he couldn't move.
Nat paced back and forth in front of Clint slowly, her eyes trained on the hallway where the doctors and nurses seemed to come from. They were currently waiting on any news from the surgery room; they had been told that it could be another few hours or a few minutes until they got an update. The vagueness of the whole situation had Natasha on edge.
Clint blinked slowly as he stared at the wall. There was a couple opposite giving him strange looks; he didn't really notice them. His hands gripped at his jacket. He still felt cold despite being inside the heated room. His eyes were dry and puffy now, bloodshot and sore. He couldn't remember when the tears stopped, he assumed it was around the same time the shock had set in.
Nat huffed and took a seat next to her friend. She glanced to him, he hadn't moved since he had sat down, hunched over and arms wrapped loosely around his stomach, elbows on his thighs. She nudged him gently before she began to sign.
'How are you holding up?'
Clint didn't answer, his head gave a shallow shook as he slumped further. Nat tried again.
'We should probably get you cleaned up.'
His fingers dug into his jacket further, he wasn't even looking at her. Nat sighed softly and squeezed his shoulder. She wasn't going to push.
They sat for another hour in silence. It was getting late now, long since sun-down. Nat was starting to feel weary but she refused to leave Clint alone. It had now been a total of 5 hours since they had arrived at the hospital.
An exhausted looking surgeon came from the hallway, looking down at a clipboard. Her hair was covered with a paper cap, seemingly having come straight from the operating theatre.
"Family of Pietro Maximoff?" The doctor looked up.
Nat looked and nodded her head, "Yeah, we're Pietro's family." She rose from her seat and headed over to the doctor.
Clint saw the movement from the corner of his eyes and tilted his head to look. His gut twisted in confusion and anxiety. He knew they were talking about Pietro, they had to be. He tried to lip read but it was hard to focus.
The doctor looked towards Clint, seeing the state he was in before turning back to Natasha. "Pietro has sustained an incredible amount of damage. He was shot 8 times, a lot of his organs took a pretty big hit. He has a punctured lung and the bullets tore through a lot of tissue. There was a lot of internal bleeding. He was in critical condition for a while."
Nat nodded stiffly. "And?"
The doctor gave a sigh, "We managed to get him into a more stable condition and repair most of the damage he sustained. However, due to the extent of the damage his body incurred he is currently in a coma. His body has, essentially, shut itself down so it can heal." She explained slowly, "He is far from out of the woods yet. We will be monitoring him closely for any changes. As of yet, we are unsure if or when he will wake up." She placed the clipboard aside. "He is no longer in the operating theatre so you and your friend are more than welcome to sit with him."
Nat took the information and let it process. "Of course. Thank you, doctor."
The doctor nodded, gave a weary smile before she left.
Natasha took a steady breath and turned to Clint.
Clint stared, he felt sick. He had no idea what was going on, he didn't know if something had happened. He couldn't read Nat's face and his stomach clenched in a way that made him want to throw up.
Nat kneeled in front of Clint and made sure his eyes were trained on her. She signed slowly, hoping that it somehow helped him keep on track. She repeated what the doctor had said to her the best she could and Clint's face twisted and morphed into confusion as he tried to understand. His head thumped heavily, there was a hot pain behind his eyes and it was hard to focus on what she was telling him exactly.
He tried to sign back.
'He's not dead?'
Nat shook her head to agree and Clint let out a dry sob of relief.
'He's okay?' His eyes teared as he tried to make sense of the situation.
Nat hesitated as she tried to figure out the best way to sign what she needed to tell him. She then nodded and signed a simple word.
'Coma.'
Clint froze and he felt his heart ached as the tears began to trickle down his cheeks. Nat tapped his knee before giving it a firm squeeze.
'He's okay' She reiterated, 'He needs to heal' She tried to explain but it was hard. Sign language could be a little limiting without spelling out every single word and she knew Clint would have no chance of being able to follow along if she did.
Clint gave a nod. He still didn't fully understand what was going on, but Pietro was alive and he was okay and that was enough to ease the feeling in his stomach. He heaved a shaky breath and buried his face in his hands. Everything was suddenly too bright and loud and a queasiness settled over him.
Nat nudged him again and he looked up past his fingers. She signed. 'Do you want to see him?'
Clint nodded quick enough to make his head throb and Nat helped him up from the seat. She tried to avoid the stains on his jacket as she wrapped her hand around his wrist to guide him down the hallways.
The door to Pietro's room was ajar and a nurse was inside collecting whatever data she needed. Nat stepped inside first and nodded to the nurse in greeting. The nurse tilted her head.
"Family?" He asked. Nat nodded and she walked past the doorway, guiding Clint in behind her. The nurse glanced at them both and gave a look of pity to Clint. "I'm afraid you won't be able to stay long. Visiting hours are over." He stared at Clint for a moment before placing the notes he had been making at the end of the bed in a plastic file holder. "You can stay for 5 minutes but no longer-"
Clint fell to his knees. Nat reached out to catch him as a reflex as his knees cracked against the floor. She held his shoulders, leaning his body against her legs as Clint let out a dry sob, clinging to her hands. The nurse made a move to come over to them, worried that Clint was about to collapse. Nat shook her head quietly, knowing Clint just wanted to see Pietro. The nurse nodded hesitantly, reminding her softly that they only had 5 minutes before he left to give them some space.
"Come on," She whispered as she began to urge him back up to his feet and over towards the bed.
Pietro was lying there, motionless and paler than Clint had ever seen him. There was monitoring wires attached to his chest under a paper gown and a tube down his throat to help him breathe. Bandages and gauze were peeking out from under the gown, almost disappearing against his colourless skin.
Clint was nudged into a chair beside the bed; he reached out and grabbed on to Pietro's hand, half expecting him to grip back. Clint thought, in that moment, that Pietro looked scarily young. Too young to be lying in this bed, on the vail of life and death. He had only just settled into life, into his job and new family. He was too young to be ripped away from it all, it was too soon. Far too soon.
The heart monitor fell on deaf ears as Clint's head sunk to the mattress beside Pietro's cold hand, the fingertips gently brushed against his forehead.
Natasha watched as her friend shook helplessly with silent cries. She had never seen him so shook up; Clint was a strong man. He had been through a lot and she knew just how tough he tried to be. She knew then just how much Pietro really meant to Clint. She looked away from the scene, feeling too much like an intruder.
Clint was silent as he sat there with his boyfriend, taking in small, sharp breaths through his teeth. He shut his eyes tight and pressed his head to Pietro's unresponsive hand. His free hand flailed to the side until it landed on the heartbeat monitor. He held his breath, pressing against the machine as he felt for the vibrations.
Buh-bump. Buh-bump.
The vibrations settled through his palm and fingertips. He breathed out as he felt the rhythm flow steadily across his skin.
Pietro was alive. His heart was still beating.
Clint shook his head and began to heave as tears soaked into the thin hospital blankets. He was relieved, he knew that for now at least he still had Pietro, but a deeper, more cynical part of him questioned how long Pietro could hang on for.
A knock at the door at Nat turning her head. The nurse stood there and silently touched his watch. She nodded slowly and held up one finger. The nurse looked at Clint, pity in his eyes before he backed out of the room again.
Natasha sighed as she made her way over to Clint and placed a hand on his shoulder. Clint looked up, blinking away the tears as she began to sigh.
'Time up. Need to go home.'
Clint blinked and Nat repeated the motions slower. He paused for a moment before the words began to register and he almost shook his head.
Instead, he nodded slowly in understanding and turned back to Pietro. He leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to Pietro's knuckles and squeezed his hand as some semblance of 'i love you' fell from his lips. Nat gripped his shoulders again and began to pull him away. Clint's hand fell from the monitor and his fingers grazed across Pietro's before they too fell away.
Clint zoned out after that. He couldn't remember the journey through the hospital and the next time he was able to focus back to reality they were no longer in the hospital.
He was in the passenger seat of a car, a decent car at that. At first, he thought Nat was taking him home but the car wasn't her's.
He blinked slowly and raised his head, glancing around until his eyes landed on the driver.
Tony tapped the wheel to a quiet song playing through the radio, tired but not sleepy. He was alert as they drove through the relatively quiet roads. He glanced over briefly before quickly turning back to the road.
Clint knew he wouldn't be able to lip-read from this angle and his head hurt too much to even attempt it. Tony seemed to realise this too and stayed silent as he continued to drive.
Clint zoned out for most of the ride until Tony was opening his door and reaching in to help him inside. Clint didn't fight. Exhaustion had begun to set in deep within his bones so he let himself be dragged through his apartment building.
Tony managed to find a key in one of Clint's pockets and opened the door to the apartment.
Lucky came running over and sniffed at the two men. Tony shooed her away as he kicked the door shut, throwing the keys to the side. Lucky whined in confusion, noticing Pietro was missing.
"Lucky, bed," Tony ordered, needing the dog out of the way. Clint was his priority at the moment and as much as he loved the dog she wasn't much help right now.
Lucky gave another whine and licked at Clint's fingers before she wandered away to lie down in her bed. Daisy yawned as she stretched her small legs out but otherwise stayed where she was in the dog's bed.
Tony made his way over to the bathroom and pulled Clint along with him before he sat him down on the closed toilet carefully. He opened his mouth before remembering what Nat had told him. Clint didn't have his hearing aids, and Tony's sign language was limited.
Thinking on his feet, Tony reached down and tugged at Clint's shirt before pointing to the shower. Gestures were going to be the best bet for communicating until Tony managed to find Clint's back up hearing aids.
Clint tilted his head before he glanced towards the shower, then down to himself. His head was still a foggy mess but he managed to grasp what Tony was trying to say to him. He nodded slowly and carefully brought himself to his feet. He wobbled, bracing himself against the sick as he took a deep breath to steady himself.
Tony reached forward but stopped when Clint's hands swatted at him before waving him out of the room. Tony hesitated, reluctant to leave his friend in such a state but nodded in understanding and backed out of the bathroom slowly.
Clint, for the most part, managed to muster enough brainpower to strip himself of his clothes, kicking them to the corner for future him to deal with, and dragged his body into the shower.
The steam helped to clear his mind a little and Clint began to feel less gross as he cleaned away the muck and grime from his skin. He still felt hollow, everything he was doing was auto-pilot at this point. But he managed to get himself cleaned at least.
Walking into his bedroom he noticed a set of clothes on the bed ready for him and changed into them slowly. His whole body felt like it was weighing him down, his head felt heavy and his eyes were already half-closed by the time he had pulled everything on.
Clint couldn't even bring himself to look at the empty bed. He concerned crawling under the covers, giving in to the exhaustion but the thought of laying in that bed without Pietro by his side left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He shuffled into the living room and let himself fall onto the sofa.
Tony had been doing what he could to keep himself busy. He did the dishes from this morning, made sure the pets were fed and put away the dishes and some other bits of clutter before he made his way over to Clint.
"Alright buddy, let's get you settled in." Tony knew Clint wouldn't hear him but he spoke anyway. He helped Clint get into a more comfortable position, tucking his legs up on to the sofa and shifting him on to his side so his face wasn't buried into the cushions. He pulled a blanket down from the back of the sofa and draped it over Clint before patting his shoulder gently.
Clint was already half asleep by the time he was tucked up and settled on the sofa. He wanted to fight it, to stay awake in case something happened at the hospital. But it was late, and he was exhausted in every sense of the word. In the end, he fell asleep to the sounds of the TV and Tony making coffee as he settled in for a long night of watch duty.