Natasha jogged by the gurney her best friend lay on as they rushed him into a Russian civilian hospital. The closest SHIELD Medical Center was nearly an hour away, but this had been their only option.

Blood was pouring out of the five stab wounds decorating his chest and abdomen. Her friend was screaming in pain and panting heavily, fogging up the oxygen mask strapped over his mouth and nose. Doctors had rushed up to them as soon as the gurney came through the doors, and after an insanely quick exam, they were already cutting into his side to place a chest tube, skipping the anesthetic because there was no time. They had been separated during a mission, and Natasha had received a distress call from Barton through her com set. She found him bleeding out in the middle of an alley.

"Hold on, Clint! Hold on!" He was gripping her wrist as she gripped his. Nurses tried to tell her to let him go so they could take him back to the trauma bay to treat him, but Natasha made the excuse that she was his translator. After some arguing, they let her go back with them.

She kept her hand wrapped around his as they worked to cut off his vest and soak his chest and abdomen with antiseptic solution. His vitals started to crash as they treated him, and soon enough, Natasha was pushed away so they could work to stabilize him.

"D-don't leave me..."

"Can you hear me screaming: 'Please don't leave me!'" Natasha woke up from her light nap and pulled her headphones out of her ears. The music was replaced by the sound of Clint whimpering and making vocal protests in the back of his throat. His heart monitor's pace was increasing the more he struggled in his sleep.

"Clint?" She stood up and was at his side in seconds. "Barton, wake up. You're safe." She tried to gently shake his shoulder, but Clint never opened his eyes. He was sweating, squirming, and twisting his head to either side and pressing it to the pillow. At some point during his squirming, he managed to push the cannula, which had replaced his oxygen mask two days prior, down to around his neck.

"L-Lemme go!" The archer cried in his sleep. "N-No!"

His Russian teammate immediately reached over him and pressed the call button for assistance. Roughly half a minute later, Cody, the nurse they had met roughly a week before, came running into the room to check on Clint. He glanced at Natasha before hurrying to Clint's side to shine a penlight in the archer's eyes. "Agent Barton, I need you to come back to us."

Clint just whimpered and turned away as soon as he felt the nurse push open his right eye. His cochlear implants had been activated and tested the day before, so they knew he could hear them.

"You're okay. He's not here to hurt you. No one is here to hurt you." Natasha tried to calm him down before looking at the nurse. "Is it some kind of seizure?"

"More like a night terror. I think he thinks he's back at the facility." In an instant, Clint's eyes snapped open and he shoved the nurse away from him. "Get away!" Clint barked, scrambling to pull out his IVs, peel off his blood pressure cuff, and jump out of bed. The nurse pulled out an emergency high dose of a sedative every nurse tending to Hawkeye carried in case he did act out. Sometimes, Natasha thought Fury was going too far with the already drawn emergency doses of sedatives, but they never knew how Clint would react to any sort of stimuli.

"Clint!" Natasha rushed to pull him back down on the bed, but the agent immediately threw her away from him out of fear. The Black Widow stumbled back into the chair she was once in, but then got up and rushed after Clint after he took off down the hall. Cody had given Natasha the syringe to inject into Clint if she caught him before security did.

"S-stop that patient!" Natasha ordered as she rushed after Clint, syringe in hand. Several patients, doctors, and nurses turned to watch Clint struggle to escape. Some acted afraid of him, and some were gasping about how they didn't think he had survived the facility. She would tackle him if she absolutely needed to, but her act was soon deemed unnecessary after watching Clint accidentally slide into a wall and bash his casted arm against the solid surface. She arrived at his side as soon as he slid down the wall and collapsed on his knees.

"N-Nat..." Clint nervously looked at her, his eyes glassy from holding back tears of pain and sorrow. It was like he had immediately snapped back into reality. "I-I'm sorry...I...I didn't mean..."

She quietly shushed him as she shook her head. "Don't...you were scared, but it's okay. You're okay..." Natasha watched as Clint tried to focus on her, but his eyes soon widened when Cody and another nurse approached from behind Natasha.

"We'll take it from here." The Black Widow turned around to face Cody and another SHIELD Medical technician, who was much larger than Clint.

"It's okay. He's fine. I've got him..." Natasha tried to wave them off, but the new technician stepped past her, roughly grabbed Clint's good arm and shoulder, and hoisted him to his feet. Clint winced and tried to pull away in response, but he new nurse kept a tight hold on the archer.

"I said I could handle him." Natasha shot a glare at the nurses.

Cody sighed, sounding irritated. "Miss Romanoff, can you handle him, though? You were supposed to be watching him! Doctor Simmons told me that you asked for the removal of his restraints...that you would be able to handle him if he became disoriented and tried to fight." He scoffed. "Look where we are now." The nurse then turned to the technician securing Barton. "Take him back to his room, tie him down, and sedate him. He's not getting released again until he's discharged."

"N-No!" Clint tried to pull away again, but soon enough, there were more SHIELD nurses trying to direct him back to his room. The archer pulled back and forth as he felt gloved hands grab at his arms, shoulders, and hospital gown as they tried to control him. The left sleeve of his gown ripped as he lurched forward, but he was immediately pulled back.

"Don't touch him!" Natasha pulled one of the larger nurses away from Clint, prepared to fight. Her eyes burned with rage. "Do you want to go through the same pain he's gone through? Touch him again, and I swear I'll make that happen." She growled as she threw the panicked nurse into the wall.

"Agent Romanoff..." The female agent stared at the nurse for another second before letting him go and turning to the voice demanding her attention.

Agent Phil Coulson had a gun pointed at her. "They're only trying to help Barton...you need to stand down."

Natasha straightened up, keeping a straight face. "Tell them to let him go."

"I can't allow that. There's a fact that we have to face here: Barton is a human weapon...and so are you. He's endangering himself and others. Because of this escape attempt, he may have to have his arm reset...again." Coulson put his gun down before approaching Natasha. "Seeing you may help him calm down."

21 Days

"Fuck! Lemme go!" Clint screamed as he was dragged into his room where Simmons was waiting by his bedside. Hawkeye caught a glimpse of her sticking a needle into a small glass bottle and filling the syringe with a clear liquid.

"Someone get his legs." Simmons instructed as she watched the technicians struggle to bring Clint through the doorway. He would try to press his left hand or either foot against the door frame to stop them from pulling him through. Clint already had to get the stitches in his left hand redone twice already because of his tendency to use his dominant hand more than he was allowed. The archer dropped to his knees as he struggled to keep them from picking him up.

"Come on, you're just going back to bed." Cody tried to grab one of the flailing Avenger's legs, but he was getting kicked, instead.

"Clint..." Clint immediately stopped squirming as much after hearing Natasha call his name. Her voice seemed broken and shocked. He arched his head around his shoulder to try to see her.

"Nat!" He grunted as he accidentally allowed enough time for two nurses to grab his legs and pick him up. "Let me go! Nat! Nat, don't let them do this! T-they'll kill me! She'll be back soon!" He practically threw himself down on the bed, then tried to scramble to his feet as everyone in the room tried to get him tied down. The 'she' he had referred to was Red Nails, the nurse at the facility.

"Right arm is secure!" One nurse announced, tightening the restraint around Clint's upper arm due to the fact that his forearm was covered in a heavy cast. Clint snorted, frustrated. He turned his head and snapped at the nurse with his teeth, now in full defense mode. The nurse had backed away before Clint could sink his teeth in.

"Hurry up with that sedative, Simmons!" Coulson ordered, holding Natasha back by her arm as they watched from the doorway. Natasha seemed frozen as she watched SHIELD's Medical staff fight her best friend.

"N-No...please!" Clint begged for Simmons to back away after his left arm was secure. "Please, don't!" He cried as he watched Simmons hold the plunger end of the syringe in her mouth as she held up his gown's sleeve with one hand while she used a cloth soaked in alcohol to clean the area.

She pulled the syringe out of her mouth, then stuck the needle into Clint's shoulder. The man tensed up and arched his head back against the pillow. "Shh." She was quick to empty the cartridge, then dispose of the needle. "I know, I know it hurts. Just calm down, agent Barton." The doctor placed her hand against the side of his feverish face, then asked one of the nurses on standby to start him on a drip to replace the one he had torn out.

Clint looked away and made a noise of protest in the back of his throat as he felt the nurses trying to restrain his ankles. He pulled away and tried to kick, but he was feeling the dragging effect of the sedative Simmons had just injected him with. A few seconds later, both ankles were restrained, then his blanket was pulled up over his legs before two straps were pulled over them.

The majority of the staff who had dragged Clint into the room had left. Natasha pulled away from Coulson and walked over to Clint's side before sitting down next to him on the bed.

"W-what's wrong with me, Nat?" He pleaded, letting her rake her hand through his hair and adjust the collar of his gown.

"You...got scared. You thought you were back at the facility...do you know your name or where you are right now?"

"Clint Barton. SHIELD Medical Center..." He answered quietly, looking around the room. Clint nervously pulled against his restraints. He flinched again and nervously looked up at Cody as the nurse strapped the blood pressure cuff around his right bicep. The nurse then moved to strap a bulky oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Once Clint noticed it, he started squirming again and trying to make it impossible for him to strap it around his head.

"Clint!" Natasha watched him cry and try to avoid the mask. It would be impossible for him to push this one away; a strap went around just above his ears and the other went below his ears. He slammed the left side of his head against the pillow as he squeezed his eyes shut. His left hand gripped the metal bar his wrist was restrained to. Natasha gently pried his fingers away from the bar and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Go to sleep, Clint..."

Strike Team Delta could never be kept apart. The Russian assassin stayed by his side and kept him comfortable as the sedative took him under. She did not let him out of her sight until the day he was discharged.

21 Days

Finally. It was the day his prison sentence came to an end. In a way, it felt like a dream: the sun was shining, the outside Fahrenheit  temperature was in the mid-60s, and he was going home. No more IVs, restraints, nurses coming into his room every twenty minutes, and waking up to a cold disc being placed against his chest.

Natasha was the one to undo his straps that morning. "How do you feel?"

"Disgusting. Get me out of this gown." Clint cringed at his own foul smell and the yellowish build up of old antibiotic serums peeking out from under some of his bandages. He slowly sat up and planted his bare feet on the tiled floor.

"You're the one who threw a damn fit when you were offered a sponge bath yesterday."

"Everything about that makes me cringe, okay? I was strapped down." Clint rolled his eyes. "Especially after the psycho facility nurse pretty much told me she wanted to give me one that one time I was covered in blood..."

"If Coulson had been in the room, he would've made you agree to it. We are in a SHIELD hospital, and he is our handler. I liked you better when you were high on pain medicine. The medicated you let me feed him; you barely took three bites of your lunch yesterday because you were more focused on fighting your restraints. The loopy version of you was cute." The Russian assassin smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "And just so you know, you're not going home like that."

"So you brought me clothes to change into?"

"You're showering before we leave here, Barton."

"Nat..." Clint whined, his face turning slightly red. He was thankful no one else had been in the room, though. The archer looked at his cast and bandaged hand. "Look at that, looks like I can't."

"That's what these are for, birdbrain." She held up two packaged plastic covers for his cast and bandaged hand.

"This won't be the first time we showered together. It'll be better than a sponge bath from a nurse I don't know." Clint shrugged, not thinking much of it.

"You're forgetting that you can't use either of your hands right now. You'll need some help."

"Nat..." Clint turned away, not interested.

"Let's go, Barton. Why don't you just relax and let someone else take care of you for once? No surgery after this, and no more doctors after today. Hey, I'll let you keep your boxers on, Okay?" She stood up and helped him get his disheveled gown untied and off. Once Clint pulled it off, Natasha took it and laid it down at the foot end of the bed. She stared at the back of his head for a second before walking around and kneeling down in front of him and starting to work on sliding the plastic covers over his cast and bandaged hand. "What's going on with you?"

Clint shook his head. "I'm just tired...and I'm going stir crazy in this place..." The agent raked his left hand through his hair, then immediately dropped it by his side once his fingers brushed against one of his cochlear devices. His head dropped down as his eyes examined the random patches on his body where yellowish-brown antibiotic salve had built up. It was a sticky, unconfortable mess.

Natasha sighed and stood up before walking over and closing the hospital room's door, then pulling the curtain over the glass wall. "Go on. I'll be right there." She knew he could walk; he had proven he could a few days prior during his escape attempt. She watched as he stood up and placed his hand on the bed's footboard as a small wave of dizziness washed over him. He had been strapped down for three days, but it felt good to finally be back on his feet.

"Need help?" His friend was now pulling a small bag out of her duffle bag to bring with her into the bathroom.

Clint shook his head again, still seeming like something was bothering his mind. "I'm fine..."

21 Days

The archer sat down in the corner of the shower and brought his knees up to his chest. He watched Natasha pull a few products out of her small black bag before gathering them and a cloth and sitting down on the shower floor with Clint. She dropped the things on the floor just outside the shower before realizing she had not grabbed the shower head. Once she stood up and took it down from the wall, she returned to her spot on the floor, facing Clint.

"Okay, Clint, what's wrong? Do you think you're going to throw up or what?"

"It's just..." His voice trembled as he tried not to make eye contact. Tears weld up in his eyes as his left hand slowly went up to the cochlear implant behind his left ear. "They didn't even bother fixing me. Of course, what's SHIELD doing treated a deaf circus freak? I never wanted these damn implants..."

"That's what you're crying about? Clint...the implants are great. They're better than the hearing aids."

Clint turned his head toward her. "Yeah, but not to me. How would you like to have damn computer chips imbedded under your scalp?" When Natasha's comforting smile fell, he snorted, "Yeah...I didn't think so. I wanted to leave SHIELD...but now I can't because these are SHIELD implants! They're not normal cochlear implants, Nat! I'm tied to SHIELD for life. I-I don't want these damn things, Nat! Make them take them out! Please!" Clint was hyperventilating as he clawed at his scalp.

Natasha immediately pulled him close to her in an attempt to calm him down. Hawkeye immediately wrapped his arms around her as he trembled in fear and cried. "I'm sorry, Nat...I'm so sorry! I should've listened to you..."

"Clint...it's the life we signed up for. I'm sorry." She paused and let out a long sigh. "Can I take off your cochlear devices?"

Clint slowly pulled away and rested his back against the wall behind him. He was quick to take off the magnetic devices and hand them over to his friend. Natasha took them and put them in her small bag on the floor so they would not get soaked.

"Y-your pants are gonna get wet..." Clint sniffled, trying to cool down.

"Come on, Barton. Did you think I'd forget to bring extra clothes? It's not like I haven't been living here in the hospital with you for the past two weeks..." She had a point. Natasha had been sleeping on the pull out couch ever since the first night after surgery.

"Is it bad that I don't remember what I arrived at the hospital in?" Clint tried to crack a joke, struggling to return to his own self. He couldn't hear himself talk, so his voice was all over the place. He watched as Natasha wet a cloth under the rain of the shower head and pour some of the hospital's antibacterial soap on it before using it to work off the anticeptic salve build up on his chest and abdomen. Clint winced and sucked in a sharp breath of air through his teeth every time she would irritate an incision too much, but the female assassin was always quick to apologize.

Natasha picked up his left arm to inspect an oddity under his nails. Blood was caked under them. "Clint..." He would constantly pick at his bandages and scratch at his incisions, which is one reason any SHIELD doctor advised that he'd be strapped down on entry. "You need to stop this." She was rough as she tried to dig the blood out from under his nails with the cloth, making him squirm. Natasha dropped the cloth for a second.

"TEACH YOU NOT TO DO THIS." She signed as she motioned to the blood under his nails. She re-soaked the cloth and got back to work.

"M-E-A-N." Clint spelled out with his free fingers poking out of the cast on his left arm. Natasha rolled her eyes. It seemed like forever, but she eventually got the blood out from all his fingernails.

"HAIR." Natasha signed before shifting her position to easily look through her small black bag. She pulled out a travel sized bottle of shampoo before glancing back at Clint. He shook his head. No.

"You're such a baby. And yeah, it's mine, but it's Japanese Cherry Blossom. You said you liked the trees." Natasha said as she handed him the shower head so he wouldn't complain later about how he had no control. The spy didn't know how much of what she just said Clint understood, but it didn't matter. She pointed to the shower head, then at his head, wanting him to soak his hair. Clint rolled his eyes and did what she asked him.

"I'm ready to go home..." Clint tried to stand up, but Natasha forced him back down. She held up her hand. 5 minutes.

Her friend huffed and ran his hand through his now soaking wet hair. Natasha squirted some product into the palm of her hand before rubbing them together and then running her hands through her partner's hair. Clint looked up at her and huffed again in annoyance before closing his eyes. He wiped the back of his left wrist across his forehead as he felt soap trickle down it.

She gently smacked the side of his face with her fingers. "Stupid. You squirm more than a toddler." Natasha went back to work on his scalp. She had to force his head to the side to carefully wash around the incisions from the implant procedure because he had his mind set on not letting her. Every fight they had, Natasha would get what she wanted most of the time, and this was one of those times.

Clint opened his eyes again as Natasha used her fingers to slick his hair back with the foam. When he saw the color of her nail polish flash before his eyes, he yelped and struggled to get out of the shower. Red...nail polish. Blood red. The exact shade the bitch at the facility wore. Instantaneously, Clint's mind was transported back to the facility, back to when Red Nails was making his scalp raw by scraping her fingernails through his hair. Natasha grabbed his shoulder and forced him back to the floor as he was struggling to stand up.

"Clint?! Clint!" Natasha struggled to hold him as he tried to push her away. "Clint, stop!" She placed her hands on either side of his face to force him to look at her. Once he opened his eyes and saw her face, it was like a raging fire had been put out.

"N-Nat?"

Natasha's eyes wouldn't leave him as her hand slowly reached out and worked through his hair again. She then pulled away and wiped her hands on a small towel laying by her bag. Once she was done, she let Clint use the detachable shower head to rinse it out as she stepped out to grab him a towel and his implant devices. She turned to see him stepping out after her. "FEEL BETTER?" Natasha signed after waving her hand to catch his attention.

Clint just waved his hand at her, seeming a little shaken from his most recent freak out. He took the towel from her and gently rubbed it over his hair before drying his body off. Natasha turned her back to give him privacy as he changed into dry boxer shorts and managed to pull on a pair of black sweatpants over them.

He hesitantly placed his implant devices back behind his hears, wincing as he felt the magnet in his head attach to the magnet in the plastic circle of the device.

"Need help with your shirt?" Natasha offered, turning around once he gave her the all clear. She had changed into dry clothes at the same time.

"I-I got it..." The archer fumbled with his shirt for a minute before pulling it over his head and gently pushing his arms through. Natasha smiled after seeing him be independent for the first time in two weeks.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I smell like a damn flower." Clint rolled his eyes, then smirked at Natasha.

Natasha hesitated for a second, glancing down at the nail polish she would never wear again. "You know I would never hurt you, right?"

"Well, you kinda did when you were getting the blood out from under my nails."

"You were being a baby."

"Maybe I should've agreed to the sponge bath."

"You would've hated that a lot more. Now, go sit down." She picked her bag up off the floor, then walked over and dropped it on Clint's hospital bed.

"Afraid Simmons will yell at you for letting me walk this much?" Clint joked as he sat down on the edge of his bed.

The Russian spy dug through her bag with one hand, then pulled out a little container. Clint glanced down at it, then up at Natasha. "And what is that?"

"Hair gel. Shut up and sit still." She took a small dollop on two fingers, then rubbed her hands together before using the product to spike some of Clint's hair in its usual style. He squirmed a little at first, then complained about how he could've done it himself.

"Can we go home now?" Clint whined after Natasha finished and put the container back in her bag. She got up and went over to her duffle bag to zip it shut.

"I signed your discharge papers this morning. Let's go."

21 Days

Leaving the SHIELD Medical Center was a little harder than they both expected. Simmons had stopped them both in the hallway to talk and force Barton to wear his right arm in a sling until it was fully healed before they left. She had smiled at Clint's overall appearance, just glad to see him alive.

When they were finally walking out the doors to find the car SHIELD was sending them to Clint's farm in, the archer turned to Natasha. "When do you think I can talk to Tony and Bruce about getting these cochlear implants out?"

The widow knew that was probably one of the worst ideas Clint had ever dreamed of. "Just...let your body heal, okay? That means: no picking at your stitches, no damaging your implants, and no smashing your cast against walls. Plus, I swear I can still smell the anesthesia on your breath."

"You're hilarious..."

"Enjoy being on you feet, Barton. Once you get home, you're going to bed. Laura's a nurse; she'll agree with me. I don't know if you were paying attention, but Simmons also told you that." Simmons had warned her of many things about his recovery.

Clint was still sick, but he didn't know it. He would depend on Natasha a lot more now since he saw her as a security blanket.

He wasn't the same Clint Barton she loved.

Another long chapter! Let me know what you think about the chapter!

Sorry for any mistakes; no flames, please!

I'd like to thank everyone so much for supporting this story by reading, reviewing, or voting! Seriously, everything is greatly appreciated. I love responding to comments too!