21 Days [A Hawkeye/ Clint Barton fic] [HEAVY EDITING]

The 21st Day

PLEASE check out my Ronin/Hawkeye fic, RONIN, that ties in with Avengers: Endgame! Feedback on that story would be so helpful!!! Thank you!!!

Natasha Romanoff jerked awake, but immediately regretted the quick movement when a sharp pain rushed up her side. 

She groaned as she kicked the thin white sheets off her body so she could get a better look at what was causing her pain. Looking down at her left side, she noticed a white bandage wrapped around her middle. Some blood seeped through the bandage. Natasha sat up in the hospital bed and proceeded to peel back the bandage a little to see the damage. 

A line of stitches, roughly an inch and a half long, decorated the skin below her left breast. 

"Ow..." Natasha hissed, then sucked in a sharp breath of air through clenched teeth as she laid her head back against the angled pillow. Her red hair spread over the fabric. 

The room seemed like a standard SHIELD hospital room. It had its numerous cabinets, a sink, a bedside table...and a door with a padlock on it. 

Natasha swung her legs over the right side of the bed. Upon sitting up, she noticed her wrist handcuffed to the bedrail. It reminded her of her time in the Red Room. They would handcuff the girls to the beds every night to prevent any escape attempts, then release them the next morning. As they got older, girls would have grown used to being handcuffed to the bed every night. They would handcuff themselves to the bed every night and release themselves the next morning. Clint had caught Natasha more than once do that to herself out of habit. The assassin huffed in annoyance, "Seriously?" She swiftly pulled the IV out, which had been lodged in the same arm, then reached up with her free hand to pull a little metal bobby pin out of her hair. 

"You should really take time to check agents for any escape tools before you lock them in a room," Natasha growled under her breath before picking the lock on the handcuffs. In roughly a minute, she was free. 

Natasha watched the handcuffs drop onto the cold tiled floor before standing up. She held on to the bedrail for support as a wave of dizziness hit her like a truck. She shakily held her free hand up to her head as she tried to fight the feeling. She had been operated on in a hospital from Hell. Nothing could be worse than that. 

There was a stack of clothes on a metal chair in the corner of the room. Natasha slowly and shakily made her way over to the chair, but collapsed on the floor before she was able to grab the clothes. 

Natasha gasped as another rush of pain ran through her body. As she carefully reached to feel the bandages over her wound, she felt warm blood seeping through the material. "Damn it..." she quietly hissed as she struggled to stand back up. 

She pushed the clothes to the floor and sat down on the frigid metal chair. She had to get dressed and find Tony before anything happened to him. Hopefully they hadn't cut him open either. 

Her head perked up when she heard screaming down the hall. 

It was Barton. 

"Clint?" Natasha now couldn't think of anything else as she pulled on her dark jeans, untied her hospital gown, and replaced it with a white t-shirt. With the adrenaline rushing through her, she managed to stand up and hobble over to the door to peek out the small vertical window. 

One of the doctors was slowly pushing a stretcher down the hall and past her window.  Clint was restrained against the stretcher with leather straps, squirming around in pain and distress. A clear mask was strapped around his nose and mouth. His chest rose and fell quickly and the mask fogged up with his uneven breaths. He didn't look like the Clint she had come to love like a brother. He was pale and filthy with dark circles around his eyes. His chest was bare and riddled with cuts and bruises. The spy watched as the archer squeezed his eyes shut for a second before looking directly at her.