Who: Hawkeye^2 When: Late September Where: Their place What: Settling in after a hospital stay, Kate's on heavy pain meds Rating/Warnings: Low/None Status: Complete
The pain wasn’t that bad. Kate had pain killers to help with the pain, and instructions that she should move around, get blood flowing so that it would heal, but not move her shoulder too much, so her stitches wouldn’t rip. Ripped stitches sounded pretty horrible. Kate had had stitches before, but this was the first bullet that had to be dug out of her flesh before. After far, far too much time in the hospital, Clint was finally given permission to take Kate home.
She fell asleep in the car. Vicodin was a powerful drug.
The sling was difficult to figure out at first. Kate could get it on an off without too much hassle, but there was also the bandage that needed to be changed and keeping Lucky from jumping up onto her chest in the mornings to wake her. She really wanted a beer and some pizza, but no beer on Vicodin.
“Can you get the door?” She mumbled once they were standing on the doorstep.
“I got it, I got it, don’t worry.” For all that they had terrible luck with things, and Clint had already dealt with this stupid shit here already -gun shots and a dream bites- this was the first time that Kate had actually gotten a serious injury in a stupid situation.
And Clint was adamant that this was a stupid situation. “Okay, lemme get Lucky to chill before you come in,” because Lucky didn’t think about things like injuries or having arms full of things, “You wait here and try not to fall over for five minutes, okay?” Clint cupped a hand on Kate’s good shoulder, making sure she was paying attention to him, “You with me, sweetie?”
“Uh huh,” Kate gave him a sleepy nod, half-lidded eyes finding his. He was fuzzy. But the world wasn’t spinning. She was just sleepy. All those pain killers were doing their job and making her loopy. “‘M here.” She leaned that good shoulder against the wall to watch Clint go into the apartment first.
It would be bad if Lucky knocked drugged-up Kate off balance or something. He was a friendly dog, but he was also big. And on a good day if he didn’t jump on Kate, she would be quite a bit put out. Today, however, she was looking forward to sitting and napping. Hopefully without dog paws banging into her bandages.
Lucky just loved a lot, and by a lot Clint meant hard. Getting the pooch into the bedroom for now, Clint tossed in some toys and lamented that he’d probably lose a shirt or two, but he could deal, before going back to the door to make sure Kate didn’t fall over herself or other things getting into the apartment. “Okay babe, you are going to the sofa, I am gonna get you some pillows to prop yourself up with, we’re gonna get you a nice glass of water and you’re gonna stay put for the night, okay?”
The fun stuff was always while the drugs were sharp, taking the edge off everything, not just the pain but the world in general. And Clint was fully prepared to make sure that Kate didn’t move for the next couple of hours to let everything kick into gear and start her healing up nicely.
“C’mon, just walk with me and we’ll get you all snuggled up nice as you like.”
“Okay.” Kate leaned against Clint as they headed into the apartment together. She was pretty sad that she didn’t get to see Lucky. He was, after all, kinda her dog too, now. But once things were a little more calm, maybe he could come out and curl up. At some point. Kate wasn’t going to let a silly thing like a bullet in her shoulder come between herself and her dog.
Once she was settled on the sofa, with lots of wincing and hissing, settling down in place, Kate frowned. “Do we have any ice cream sandwiches? I’d kill for an ice cream sandwich right about now.”
Weirdest post-bullet extraction craving he’d heard of but not entirely ridiculous. You’d think she’d just had his wisdom teeth out. “I think we do, you filled up the freezer with random junk so we probably do.” Random junk that they’d just sort of went ‘why not’ about while shopping -Clint had decided that food shopping while hungry was a terrible idea.
“You settle back, I’ll go check.” Grabbing the remote that apparently worked everything ever in their apartment thanks to Tony, Clint headed back to the bedroom to grab some pillows to prop Kate up, a blanket and then went back to the kitchen to rummage in the freezer for her ice cream sandwiches which he still totally didn’t understand, but at least she knew they were safe from his peckish nature.
Kate made sure that whenever she went shopping, she always bought things she knew Clint liked, even if she didn’t. Especially if she didn’t. It was good to have things for him to nosh that she’d leave alone, and vice versa. Those ice cream sandwiches were super cheap, and kinda gross. (Was that actually cream in the ice cream? Or partially hydronigenated soybean crap? Whatever it was, it was delicious.) So that was her go-to. Besides, it was only 90 calories per sandwich. Win.
She settled down on the sofa gingerly, and closed her eyes. Time jumped, as it often does for someone heavily drugged, and she opened her eyes again to find Clint burying her in pillows and blankets. When her eyes closed the second time, time had jumped even further this time, and he was bringing her an ice cream sandwich. A bright, lazy smile crossed her lips. “I love you,” she said, making ‘gimme gimme’ hands at the ice cream.
“You’re so high.” It was adorable, even with the added shit of the gunshot wound, the worry having mostly dissipated since then, and she was just this cute, injured little drugged up little thing. Sitting on Kate’s uninjured side, Clint pressed a kiss to her forehead, smirking against her hair. “I love you too, dummy.”
They’d need to watch how she handled the meds, making sure to keep her eating enough to balance out the power of the drugs, keeping her hydrated and moving around, but nothing strenuous. Clint was probably going to need to hide her bow. “You wanna watch something while you cram that in your mouth?” And hopefully not pass out mid way through.
Awww. Every time he spoke the words, it made Kate’s heart warm. Or maybe that was the drugs. Either way, she was pretty happy. When the pain came back, she probably wouldn’t be, but for now? Everything was good. She knew that Clint would take care of her, make sure she didn’t rip her stitches or take too many (or too few) pain pills. He was good like that.
“Yeah,” she said, fiddling with the wrapper on her ice cream sandwich. “Whatever you don’t care if I fall asleep to it.” That sentence may not have made too much sense, but Kate didn’t really care. She was too busy trying to get her ice cream unwrapped.
So with the TV flipped to a recorded episode of Spongebob, because Clint gave no shits and his system could pretty much hold whatever thanks to Tony’s tinkering, he figured he’d probably end up napping with Kate anyway. If she ever defeated her ice cream wrapper.
It was going to be so very interesting to see just how she fared with this limited ability nonsense. “Want me to get that for you?”
Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Kate’s eyes turned to the television, distracted by the bright colors and catchy tune. She held the ice cream out to Clint without responding. Yeah, she needed help. But she hated admitting that she did.
“They say it's going to take up to six weeks to heal enough for me to fire a bow again.” The words made Kate choke up a little. She swallowed hard.
“Which you are going to wait,” Clint just unwrapped the ice cream bar for her, making sure she wouldn’t end up nibbling the paper before giving it back. “There’s no point in rushing it and giving yourself muscle damage. You rip the stitches and it’s another six weeks.” Gunshot wounds were a bitch, muscle damage was just as bad and where Kate got shot was risky when it came to lingering damage.
“Don’t worry too much, we’ll keep you busy with mild PT until it’s better.” After she’d gotten through the first few weeks of healing and lowered the meds at least.
Kate accepted the ice cream back with her left hand. She was going to have to start doing things with her non-dominant hand, wasn’t she? Ugh. This was a mess already, and it was only day two. “Thanks,” Her voice was soft. Then she took a bite.
“I dunno how I’m gonna survive it.” Something was happening with Spongebob and the angry squid on the television, but Kate wasn’t paying attention. She was thinking how creamy vanilla ice cream was, and how there was starting to be a dull ache in her shoulder.
“Lots and lots of distractions.” Which they’d need, because Kate probably hadn’t realised that she’d be really limited. It wasn’t just her bow she wouldn’t be able to use, it was more. Driving would be difficult one handed, not impossible but awkward, there’d be no exciting messing around with Lucky until she wasn’t in a lot of pain, he’d need to convince her to either get a sub in for the self-defence classes or put them on hold for a few weeks, and she’d need to take a few nights off work until she wasn’t completely loopy on the drugs.
He wasn’t really looking forward to all those arguments if he was honest, because he didn’t really expect Kate to not be stubborn about it.
Kate was absolutely going to be stubborn about it all. How could she not? When she did admit defeat, which she undoubtedly would, she'd be grumpy and disgruntled. No, Clint was right. This was going to be a rough few weeks for them both.
“I'll just get fat on milkshakes and Spongebob.” She bit into the sandwich again, decidedly. Somewhere in her drug addled brain, that made sense. She didn't even make the obvious flirtation about the kinds of distractions she'd like from him, though a moment later she thought she did. “I hope you'll still want to distract me after that.”
They’d just need to muddle through, and Clint would try to be understanding since he could imagine being just as stubborn himself if it was the other way around. Which it had been once or twice in the dreams, putting down his bow for any period of time was killer for Hawkeye.
Distractions would come in the form of walks, attempting to cook and the potential of a massage on that shoulder area if the muscle cramped. Clint would not be swayed towards potentially injuring Kate more with bedroom antics. “You’re so cute, you think you’ll be able to get fat.” Clint just chuckled at her, “But yes, I would still distract you.”
“Okay, good.” Appeased, Kate put the now empty ice cream wrapper on the end table, then leaned back against the sofa. The drugs were good. She was in no pain. But she was also a little loopy and sleepy, and not quite herself. Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of gratitude toward Clint for everything he’d done for her. It was a little overwhelming, and made her feel foolish, weepy-eyed, and overly sentimental. “Thank you. For not making fun of how I’m about to fall asleep right here on the sofa.”
She was ridiculously cute, all drug addled and sleepy. Clint just turned his attention away from Spongebob for long enough to make sure that Kate wouldn’t be putting too much pressure on her shoulder if she fell asleep there, no awkward angles or aches to develop later. She had a few hours before the next dose would be allowed, so she’d be better sleeping it off anyway. “You’re welcome.” Considering all she’d put up with too, between his own idiotic self getting shot, dream nonsense and their usual dealings with Orange County, it was probably his turn to take care of her anyway. “Get some sleep, babe. I’ll wake you up with something to eat in a while.”