And Clint meant to, but he took a second to lean down and place a soothing kiss on Natasha's forehead anyway before he went back to the bedroom. Quickly but not overly hurried to not make Natasha nervous on top of feeling bad already. He grabbed two pairs of short pants, shirts and underwear for both of them and brought Natasha her pile while already angling his way into his own clothes. He was as good as out of the room when he stopped, hesitating, but he followed his instinct and reached for her hand for another moment.
"And Nat... You don't need to smile for me when you're feeling bad, okay?"
He pressed her hand softly and managed a smile that was at least a little more convincing than hers a second ago. They should know each other better than having to put up any kind of mask, that was all he wanted her to know. It wasn't like hadn't seen her sick or injured before, as seldom as it had happened. He could deal with that.
Right now she could need a bit of help though, so he kept his promise of hurrying up. He just paused in the kitchen to quickly fill a bowl of milk for the kitten so it could feed while he went for Angelina's advise. The kitten- their kitten, or something, as Natasha had put it, and for some silly reason that had him grinning in spite of all. Especially when he left the house and saw furball already waiting for him.
"You won't be all that happy with me soon", he sighed when the animal started strolling around his legs at once. Only a short pat of its little head he allowed himself when he put the bowl on the porch, then his thoughts were already with his next visit.
As expected, he found his target only a few steps from his house on her morning walk, and when he came back with the acquired list of trustworthy doctors, his mood had quite hit the bottom. To get that list, he of course had had to describe at least vaguely what was happening, and the first question Angelina had come up, hadn't exactly soothed his fluttering nerves.
Of course he had considered that possibility, very vaguely, once or twice in the last days but pushed it away immediately, scoffed at the idea... Physically impossible, that was what Natasha had told him, he had seen it in her medical file too.
Ridiculous. His protective instincts combined with the heat got to his head, that was all. Because that other possibility, as small as it was, that Natasha's body was playing an evil trick on them, was too terrifying to even consider. Natasha had gone through this horror once before in the past, from all he knew, and even if she was stronger, had grown a lot, become a whole different person since then... Going through that again would be just as bad for her as for any other woman. And with all he knew from her medical file, there was no way this could have a happy ending.
And even if... That prospect was even scarier, so Clint gave himself a hard mental smack on the head and shoved that subject far, far out of reach, the moment he entered the house. Overreacting again, Barton. There was absolutely no reason to assume any of this would happen. Just a virus or something, everything was okay, Natasha would be better soon. And if his hands trembled a bit when he got that transport box from the store room, well, he hadn't had anything to eat yet.
Before he went to get his hands all scratched open, he stopped to see if Natasha was ready enough for the trip. No reason to give furball the shock of her lifetime before they were even save to go.
no subject
And Clint meant to, but he took a second to lean down and place a soothing kiss on Natasha's forehead anyway before he went back to the bedroom. Quickly but not overly hurried to not make Natasha nervous on top of feeling bad already. He grabbed two pairs of short pants, shirts and underwear for both of them and brought Natasha her pile while already angling his way into his own clothes. He was as good as out of the room when he stopped, hesitating, but he followed his instinct and reached for her hand for another moment.
"And Nat... You don't need to smile for me when you're feeling bad, okay?"
He pressed her hand softly and managed a smile that was at least a little more convincing than hers a second ago. They should know each other better than having to put up any kind of mask, that was all he wanted her to know. It wasn't like hadn't seen her sick or injured before, as seldom as it had happened. He could deal with that.
Right now she could need a bit of help though, so he kept his promise of hurrying up. He just paused in the kitchen to quickly fill a bowl of milk for the kitten so it could feed while he went for Angelina's advise. The kitten- their kitten, or something, as Natasha had put it, and for some silly reason that had him grinning in spite of all. Especially when he left the house and saw furball already waiting for him.
"You won't be all that happy with me soon", he sighed when the animal started strolling around his legs at once. Only a short pat of its little head he allowed himself when he put the bowl on the porch, then his thoughts were already with his next visit.
As expected, he found his target only a few steps from his house on her morning walk, and when he came back with the acquired list of trustworthy doctors, his mood had quite hit the bottom. To get that list, he of course had had to describe at least vaguely what was happening, and the first question Angelina had come up, hadn't exactly soothed his fluttering nerves.
Of course he had considered that possibility, very vaguely, once or twice in the last days but pushed it away immediately, scoffed at the idea... Physically impossible, that was what Natasha had told him, he had seen it in her medical file too.
Ridiculous. His protective instincts combined with the heat got to his head, that was all. Because that other possibility, as small as it was, that Natasha's body was playing an evil trick on them, was too terrifying to even consider. Natasha had gone through this horror once before in the past, from all he knew, and even if she was stronger, had grown a lot, become a whole different person since then... Going through that again would be just as bad for her as for any other woman. And with all he knew from her medical file, there was no way this could have a happy ending.
And even if... That prospect was even scarier, so Clint gave himself a hard mental smack on the head and shoved that subject far, far out of reach, the moment he entered the house. Overreacting again, Barton. There was absolutely no reason to assume any of this would happen. Just a virus or something, everything was okay, Natasha would be better soon. And if his hands trembled a bit when he got that transport box from the store room, well, he hadn't had anything to eat yet.
Before he went to get his hands all scratched open, he stopped to see if Natasha was ready enough for the trip. No reason to give furball the shock of her lifetime before they were even save to go.
"Nat?"