“It could have been clearer,” Natasha shot back without hesitation, her voice surprisingly strong despite her condition. Even though she was lying in a hospital bed with a breathing tube in her nose, when she leveled a look at Clint it was a formidable one. He could take all the responsibility he wanted, but as soon as she was able she was going to do the exact same thing and claim part of this disaster as her own fault, no argument.
Raising her head from the pillow she weakly lifted her arm and pulled at the neck of the hospital shirt she wore, trying to peer down the front at the bandages beneath. She stopped when she felt Clint squeeze her knee and heard the emotion in his voice. “No promises,” she said, because there never could be in their line of work, but she offered him a small, almost teasing smile to accompany the words. Dropping her shirt she held her hand out to him, beckoning him closer. “They say how long I’ll be stuck in here?”
Lucky. She could feel that that was true and in some ways it was frightening, that she had come so close to death without even realising it, but not for the reasons one would expect. She had been prepared to fight for life at all costs from a young age, but she had also grown to accept death as well, and when Clint had first come after her, when he had been sent to kill her, she almost welcomed the release. Not anymore, though. She wasn’t afraid of death, but she wanted to live, not because of some survival instinct, but because she wanted to live and finally had something worth living for.
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Raising her head from the pillow she weakly lifted her arm and pulled at the neck of the hospital shirt she wore, trying to peer down the front at the bandages beneath. She stopped when she felt Clint squeeze her knee and heard the emotion in his voice. “No promises,” she said, because there never could be in their line of work, but she offered him a small, almost teasing smile to accompany the words. Dropping her shirt she held her hand out to him, beckoning him closer. “They say how long I’ll be stuck in here?”
Lucky. She could feel that that was true and in some ways it was frightening, that she had come so close to death without even realising it, but not for the reasons one would expect. She had been prepared to fight for life at all costs from a young age, but she had also grown to accept death as well, and when Clint had first come after her, when he had been sent to kill her, she almost welcomed the release. Not anymore, though. She wasn’t afraid of death, but she wanted to live, not because of some survival instinct, but because she wanted to live and finally had something worth living for.