Anonymous said: <3
Natasha is sitting in a chair on the window side, her nose in a bodybuilding magazine.
"Nat," Clint says. She lowers her magazine to glare at him. "Eat something."
She goes, leaving the magazine at the foot of his bed. A shuffling movement from his lower half tips it onto the floor.
"Hates it when I get plugged," Clint says.
*The rest of us aren’t crazy about it either.* Steve steals Natasha’s seat. “Does this happen a lot?”
"Eh," Clint says. "Once or twice."
"Next on the agenda is talking to Tony about getting you better armor."
Clint pats Steve’s hand clumsily. “Okay, Mom.”
Natasha returns fifteen minutes later and unwraps a roast beef sandwich the size of her head.
"Had so many chances to kill you," Clint grumbles. She props her feet up on the edge of his bed as Bruce walks through the door.
"Well, well," Bruce says. "You do look worse than I do. I knew I’d find someone eventually."
Natasha unfolds a napkin and wipes a small circle of mustard from the corner of her mouth while Clint and Bruce bump fists, shooting victim solidarity or something. “Anyone ever tell you you’re an asshole, Banner?”
"Surprisingly enough? I don’t think so. That’s not the one people tend to go for."
"We’re gonna need more chairs," Natasha says.
Steve grips the side of his seat. “Think I should get going.”
She passes over a grease-stained sack full of French fries. “Help me out with these,” she says, then rises. “I’ll ask an orderly.”
Steve takes one fry, then another and another, like his hands are getting orders from somewhere other than his brain. They taste like cardboard, but the bag keeps getting lighter as he sits there.
"So Thor went back to Asgard, I think," Bruce says. "Well, no, I know he did. He left a message with JARVIS saying he shall be back soon and not to trouble ourselves with worry over his absence."
"I’m definitely not worried," Natasha says.
"Okay," Bruce says.
She shrugs. “He called me before he caught his ride.”
"He did?" Steve says.
She nods and picks up her magazine.
"Hey, Natasha," Bruce says. "You have plans for the rest of that sandwich?"
"Have a party," she replies, handing it to Bruce.
"Thanks," he says. He puts it directly in Steve’s hand. Steve drops the empty bag of fries to accept the sandwich and begins to eat, even though he isn’t hungry. He isn’t tired. Maybe if he talks to Sam, verifies that his friend is okay and everything went as expected, he’ll feel something.