SICK DAY MEME [ THE THIRD ]

[anothermememaker]

SICK DAY MEME
( requested re-post)

There's not denying it, you're feeling crap. School, work, a date, tea with nana, mowing the lawns, doing your laundry, that important meeting... you can't make it. You want to stay in bed and maybe you just need a little TLC in the process. What is YOUR reason for that ever-fateful call in sick that every boss just loves to hate? RULES: - Leave a comment with your character's name, fandom, and any preferences you have. - When replying, RNG for a number between 1 and 16. - The number corresponds to the scenario that you will play out in any way you feel the urge. - The poster is the sick person, the tagger is the one taking care of them/keeping them company. - Go from there!

THE LIST:
1// COLD
It's just a boring old sinus infection and you probably could go in, but you're not because bed is just too nice.

2// FLU
You feel like you're dying and everything aches, but it's not quite serious enough to arrange your own funeral yet.

3// MAN FLU
Doesn't anyone understand how sick and miserable you are?! You can't function! The world is ending! You need cuddles, and hugs, and you can't do ANYTHING by yourself!

4// STOMACH BUG
Uh oh, this is going to get messy...

5// FOOD POISONING
But that meal was sooooooo good. The best you ever had! Why is it betraying you so badly?! Never eating ever again.

6// CONCUSSION
You've been hit in the head and now it feels like it's going to explode. Being horizontal is the best option, and not even in a good way.

7// MONO
Everything hurts, you feel sick, you don't want to move, you don't want to eat, but you're in it for the long haul. Company and maybe some cuddles with chicken soup might be nice.

8// CHICKEN POX OR MEASLES
SPOTS! Spots everywhere! Yes, even there! You look hideous and it itches so damn much. Don't scratch, don't scratch... oh screw it!

9// LARYNGITIS
Your throat hurts so bad and now you can't talk. How are you going to communicate, maybe you need a little bell? Is it bad form to text message someone sitting right in front of you? Who cares, you want chicken soup.

10// HANGOVER
It's still sick, right?

11// BACK PAIN
You don't know what you have done, but you woke up barely able to move. You probably shouldn't have done what you did last night... and you should probably rest it.

12// INCAPACITATING INJURY
You got hurt, you can move much, and you're stuck in bed. Is it a broken bone? Torn groin muscle? Cracked ribs? Whatever it is, the world clearly hates you.

13// POST ROUTINE SURGERY
It was a simple procedure and now you're back home. The only catch is, you can't be alone for 48 hours in case of complications, with the added bonus of it hurts like a bitch.

14// POST MAJOR SURGERY
You're stuck in hospital for a few days and have a gaping surgial wound. There aren't even any hot nurses. Now what?

15// LONG TERM ILLNESS
You've just been diagnosed with a longer-term illness (of your choice). You're feeling poorly and don't want to be alone.

16// ANYTHING GOES
Something not listed here, have a wildcard of your choice! Anything that might lead to a timely sick day.

Comments

Clint Barton | MCU or EMH

[broken_arrow]

((Probably not going to be a pleasant patient))

6

[herbestdisguise]

It could have been a lot orse, only getting out of there with a couple of bumps and bruises isn't bad for the two of them.

She's sore and tired but she's keeping an eye out on him, knowing he got hit in the head rather hard several times over.

"You're still on your feet," she states, poking him lightly. "You should probably change that."

[broken_arrow]

Clint’s head felt heavy, swollen, foggy, and just all the things a head shouldn’t feel when it’s in good working condition. He probably should have stayed in the medbay for the night but he hated that place; he’d spent enough time there over the years and, besides, the beds were really uncomfortable.

“Nothing gets by you, does it?” he replied, giving her hand a playful swat when she poked him. Still, the second his bed came into view he gravitated toward it. Once he reached it he flopped face first onto the mattress, muttering a few things to Natasha that were too muffled by the sheets to be understood.

[herbestdisguise]

"I am going to just assume that you are singing my praises," she says with a grin, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

She studies hi for a moment, then one hand moves to lightly run through his hair. "Let me know if you need anything?" Because now that he's down, she is not gong to let him get back up.

[broken_arrow]

Clint smiled at her words even though she couldn’t see it. He barely moved as she sat beside him, but he leaned into her touch when she ran her fingers through his hair; he loved having his hair mussed with. “Jus’ sleep,” he muttered, though somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that wasn’t a good idea. Possible concussions and sleep were not a good combination.

[herbestdisguise]

Not so much, no.

"You're going to have to hold off on that, sorry." she says, ruffling his hair lightly before going back to petting him. "Gotta stay with me until we know what's going on."

[broken_arrow]

Clint groaned into the mattress when she told him he wasn’t allowed to sleep.

“Just a few minutes, then you can wake me right up,” he replied, voice still muffled. “You can sleep too. It’ll be fun.”

[herbestdisguise]

"Or we could bot stay up," she says, her voice even as she tugs lightly on his hiair. "C'mon, sit up."

[broken_arrow]

By the time she started pulling on his hair, Clint begrudgingly gave up. "Ugh, fine," he grumbled, but he didn't sit up. Instead he rolled over to flop on his back, one hand moving up to clutch his head.

[herbestdisguise]

She smiles triumphantly. "Good boy," she says teasingly., ruffling his hair gently. "I promise,you can pass out as soon as we know nothing managed to damage that thick skull of yours."

[broken_arrow]

Draping his arm over his eyes, Clint stuck his tongue out at Natasha for her comment. “Come on, it’ll take more than that to keep me down,” he said. “And I’m not a dog.” Not that he minded the hair ruffling, even though his head hurt like hell.

[herbestdisguise]

"No," she states. "No you're not."

Her hand moves more gently through his hair now, stroking it carefully, as she eyes the door, waiting for the results to show p so she can determine whether he can actually sleep or not.

"Still," she starts. "Whether its going to keep you down or not, you're going o have to deal with me for now."

[broken_arrow]

When her touch grew gentle again he settled back into it. Dropping his arm he finally gave up and opened his eyes, shifting his gaze up to her face. “I’ve dealt with you in a lot worse situations than this,” he said, the barest hint of a grin on his face. “Getting kinda used to your nagging.”

[herbestdisguise]

"I do not nag," she states prodding him lightly. "I express the appropriate amount of concern when it's due."

...Okay, maybe with hm she nags but she's not going to admit that for the life of her.

[broken_arrow]

Clint snorted at her reply, his grin growing wider. “Suuuuure,” he said, drawing out the word. “You just keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

He honestly doesn’t mind it when she nags him, as it only proves that she cares.

[dontknowwhentoquit]

((How does 9 or 6 sound to you?))

[broken_arrow]

((Sounds good to me! Since I already got a six, wanna do nine?))

[dontknowwhentoquit]

((Cool with me!))

It was weird to not be the one who was sick so often, he supposed that he was something he could thank the Serum for. Though it made easier to take of his teammates when he couldn't get whichever virus it was that made them sick.

Though it seemed this round was making an attempt to be brutal, at first it had been Natasha and Stark who had been sick now it was Clint. He covered the huddled man with another blanket that he had gotten from one of the spare closets of the Tower and sat down across from him.

"What else can I get you?"

[broken_arrow]

When it came to being sick, Clint Barton was definitely a man about it... meaning he didn’t handle it well. On missions he sometimes spent hours soaked to the bone, days sitting in freezing cold locales, so he had built up quite an immune system, so when he actually got ill it was usually enough to knock him off his feet.

It was also enough to make him very whiny about it.

Huddling in the pile of blankets that Steve had been so kind to provide, he nodded slowly. “Drink,” he tried to say, but it came out as more of a croak and hurt like a son of a bitch. Clearly talking was not going to be an option here.

[dontknowwhentoquit]

Dealing with a sick Stark had left him with something of an immunity to whiny sick teammates. Or at least with a whiny Stark. Still it made him very glad that he couldn't get sick anymore or catch what his teammates got sick with.

Luckily for Clint, he had become good at figuring out what his teammates were croaking when it came to asking for something. And to Steve, it sounded a little like his teammate was asking for something to drink. He stands up, heading for the kitchen on Clint's floor.

“I'll get you something to drink. Will be right back.”

It didn't take him long to return with a cup of juice and a pad of paper complete with a pen. He places the pad and pen on the table in front of him, before handing him the juice.

“Here. There's a pad of paper and pen for you to use so that you can rest your throat.”

[broken_arrow]

Clint was grateful that Steve understood his croaking, and the archer snuggled further down into the blankets, moaning pathetically as the other man went to oblige. When Steve returned, somewhere from the pile of blankets a hand emerged and took the juice, somehow managing to navigate it to the mouth that was only barely not hidden itself. He’s maneuvered the blankets up over and around his head so only his face was visible.

Setting the juice aside, Clint took up the paper and pen, scribbling messily over the page.

Is everyone else still sick? He showed it to Steve.

[dontknowwhentoquit]

Gently he takes the pad from the other and reads the note that Clint had written with a careful eye. A thoughtful expression comes over his face as he looks to the other now. Managing to find Clint's eyes in the pile of blankets and holds them.

“Natasha is looking better and is trying to get herself back into shape despite Dr. Banner's protests. Stark is still ill, but finally on the mend now. Thor is watching him to make sure he doesn't do anything not to smart for someone in his condition.”

He places the pad of paper back down in front of Clint and watches him. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

[broken_arrow]

Clint nodded at Steve’s assessment. Of course Natasha would be pushing herself before she was ready, it was what she always did, be it sickness or injury, and Stark... ‘not too smart’ was one way to put it.

It was a bit strange having the captain at his beck and call, and Clint would be lying if he said he wasn’t trying to think of a way to exploit it... not that he could say much of anything right now, or think much or do anything really. It took too much to be devious, and all he really wanted to do was curl up in a ball and groan.

Movie? he scribbled on the paper.

[dontknowwhentoquit]

He'd be worried if Clint didn't try something, he knows from word of Natasha that the man would try to exploit anyone taking care of him when he experienced moments like this. An illness like the one Clint and the others had, however would be enough to down any mischievous man or woman.

He reads the newest note and stands up, looking from him towards the television. As though he sort of seemed to expect that it would jump out of the wall and attack them.

“Anything in particular you want to watch?”

[broken_arrow]

Clint watched as Steve eyed the television warily as if it was the scariest, most foreign contraption he had ever seen. Maybe there was amusement to be had yet.

The archer shook his head at the question because picking something involved thinking, and besides, he was curious what Steve would choose left to his own devices.