If Natasha hadn't been there... If he hadn't held her hand and felt it go even colder or heard her voice, that cut-off from the world, empty, too quiet tone that was usually reserved for nightmares and level 10 disaster missions... Clint would already have been out of the room. His body was taut like a bowstring, tensing with every word of their doctor's mouth more. His own skin was mingling with unnatural cold, his throat had turned into a needle eye. The one - the only - thought flashing through his completely blank mind was to run.
He wanted to run and forget this had ever happened. Pretend that he had not been so stupid in that phone call yesterday and asked. He should have told that greenhorn just to do the checkup and arrange an appointment and not ask any questions, no matter how much money it would have cost. Why had he asked? Knowing, fully knowing that it could only bring so much more helplessness and fear? It was exactly and nothing what he had wanted to hear. It was exactly what would make it the hardest for Natasha, to have that child, to have the chance and then, again...
His panicking thoughts, fluttering through his head like a bunch of scared squirrels, came to an abrupt halt. Natasha... She was the one who had to carry this burden. She was the one who had to make that decision...
And it was clear by her completely lost tone that she couldn't, not here, not now. She wasn't even really here right now. Not in a way that allowed any serious discussion. He couldn't let her make any decisions right now, she would only regret it later if it was the wrong one. He had to handle this, somehow...
This... Was he still trying to run from it, after the doctor had said it in their faces? This wasn't a thing, it was a healthy human being, a fetus, a baby, his...
A surprisingly strong hand on his forearm shook him back to reality and he realized, without much surprise, he hadn't been breathing. Tomasini just eyes him critically for a moment when he drew back air in his lungs, not looking surprised at all, just a little worried. Then he took his seat again and started waiting again until any of them could come up with something say.
Clint found, he liked the guy, as far as he could grab any kind of feeling at all right now. He couldn't have dealt with questions right now. He could hardly comprehend what was going on himself, and he still had to get Natasha home somehow. They would have to talk about it, alone, about...
Before the next panic attack could kick him, he forced himself to take another deep breath and at least gargle out a few words. He just wanted out of here right now.
"Um, I don't think we..."
"Obviously not." Tomasini already scribbled something more down as if he had just waited for the call and handed Clint a paper that he took with numb fingers. "You can still sign the form before the appointment. Means a lot more paperwork for me, but we can do that. There's two dates." He nodded down onto that sheet because Clint stared like it like he had forgot how to read Arabic numerals. "In case you want more time to decide. You'll pretend I never said that but I've noted the conception date a week later than it probably was. A week, frankly, makes not much, medical difference and you have more time. After three months, the worst of a normal pregnancy risk is over. Maybe you want to wait that long. If not, I'll be here next week."
"Thanks, doc."
Clint's lips felt just as numb as his hand. That... that was good, right? At least he didn't have to worry now what Natasha would want to do. Maybe he was putting way too much thought in this and she already had decided... He should just ask her if she wanted to leave or just lead her outside, but if he tried to drive them home now, he would wrap them around the next flashlight pole.
So he waited for her to speak, no matter how afraid he suddenly was what she would say.
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Date: 2014-06-17 08:45 pm (UTC)From:He wanted to run and forget this had ever happened. Pretend that he had not been so stupid in that phone call yesterday and asked. He should have told that greenhorn just to do the checkup and arrange an appointment and not ask any questions, no matter how much money it would have cost. Why had he asked? Knowing, fully knowing that it could only bring so much more helplessness and fear? It was exactly and nothing what he had wanted to hear. It was exactly what would make it the hardest for Natasha, to have that child, to have the chance and then, again...
His panicking thoughts, fluttering through his head like a bunch of scared squirrels, came to an abrupt halt. Natasha... She was the one who had to carry this burden. She was the one who had to make that decision...
And it was clear by her completely lost tone that she couldn't, not here, not now. She wasn't even really here right now. Not in a way that allowed any serious discussion. He couldn't let her make any decisions right now, she would only regret it later if it was the wrong one. He had to handle this, somehow...
This... Was he still trying to run from it, after the doctor had said it in their faces? This wasn't a thing, it was a healthy human being, a fetus, a baby, his...
A surprisingly strong hand on his forearm shook him back to reality and he realized, without much surprise, he hadn't been breathing. Tomasini just eyes him critically for a moment when he drew back air in his lungs, not looking surprised at all, just a little worried. Then he took his seat again and started waiting again until any of them could come up with something say.
Clint found, he liked the guy, as far as he could grab any kind of feeling at all right now. He couldn't have dealt with questions right now. He could hardly comprehend what was going on himself, and he still had to get Natasha home somehow. They would have to talk about it, alone, about...
Before the next panic attack could kick him, he forced himself to take another deep breath and at least gargle out a few words. He just wanted out of here right now.
"Um, I don't think we..."
"Obviously not."
Tomasini already scribbled something more down as if he had just waited for the call and handed Clint a paper that he took with numb fingers.
"You can still sign the form before the appointment. Means a lot more paperwork for me, but we can do that. There's two dates."
He nodded down onto that sheet because Clint stared like it like he had forgot how to read Arabic numerals.
"In case you want more time to decide. You'll pretend I never said that but I've noted the conception date a week later than it probably was. A week, frankly, makes not much, medical difference and you have more time. After three months, the worst of a normal pregnancy risk is over. Maybe you want to wait that long. If not, I'll be here next week."
"Thanks, doc."
Clint's lips felt just as numb as his hand. That... that was good, right? At least he didn't have to worry now what Natasha would want to do. Maybe he was putting way too much thought in this and she already had decided... He should just ask her if she wanted to leave or just lead her outside, but if he tried to drive them home now, he would wrap them around the next flashlight pole.
So he waited for her to speak, no matter how afraid he suddenly was what she would say.