I can! If Stucky, the occasional real person fic, and a series I’m writing based on a video game aren’t your thing, let me know. I have exception lists for those that I can add your url to.
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Summary: As a senior in college, you kept your nose clean and never partied. You were at the top of your class, set to graduate with honors summa cum laude; unlike Clint Barton. In an effort to get a passing grade and graduate, he asked for your help. What could possibly go wrong? Word Count: 907 Warnings: Language, fluff, possible smut, heavy angst [I’m sorry] Author’s Note: I shouldn’t be this excited about how much angst there is. Something is wrong with me. GIF Credit [X]
My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.
As soon as Clint walked into the classroom, Fury pulled Clint into his office.
“I’m not in trouble, am I?” Clint wondered, his nerves still frayed from the day before when he kissed Y/N.
“No, nothing like that,” Fury answered, rubbing at the skin around his eye patch. “It’s actually about Y/N.”
Panic swelled in Clint’s chest, making it hard to breathe. “What’s happened?”
Professor Fury gave a heaving sigh before saying, “There’s no easy way to say it, so I’ll just say it. Y/N is in the hospital.”
A man that Clint recognized from the pictures in Y/N’s apartment was standing outside of a hospital room, hand raking over his face. It was Y/N’s father and he looked exhausted, worried, petrified.
“Mr. Coulson,” Clint murmured, hoping not to scare him. “My name’s Clint, I’m in class with Y/N.”
“Call me Phil,” he said, his hand held out. “Y/N’s talked about you.”
After shaking Y/N’s father’s hand, Clint shoved his into the pockets of his jacket. “Good things, I hope,” he quasi-joked.
“Mostly,” Phil chuckled. “But that’s neither here nor there.”
Unable to help himself, Clint looked over Phil’s shoulder to find Y/N lying in a bed. From what he could tell, her eyes were closed and she was hooked up to multiple monitors, pumps, and an IV drip.
“Oh, my God,” he gasped, a hand coming to his mouth. “Is she okay?”
Phil let out a huff through his nose and shook his head. “Is she okay?” he deadpanned, his eyebrow arched. “No, she’s not okay. She hasn’t been okay for years.”
Despite the emotion clogging his throat, Clint asked, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, shit. She hasn’t told you She has cancer, Clint. Leukemia,” Phil explained gently.
Clint felt as if his heart dropped into his stomach, and his stomach plummeted through the floor at his feet. He swayed back and forth, his mind swirling, his chest tight, too tight, his lungs unwilling to work. The walls were slowly creeping in and, God, it was so hot all of a sudden.
“Ca- cancer?” he managed to sputter, a hand raking through his hair.
Phil grabbed Clint’s elbow to steady the younger man. “Let’s go outside.”
While the cooler air helped Clint catch his breath, it did little to ease the mounting pressure in his chest. “Ho- how long does she have?”
“Honestly? We don’t know,” Phil answered with a shrug. “Could be tomorrow or next year. Y/N was diagnosed when she was thirteen and, at first, she responded well to the aggressive chemo treatments. The doctors gave her a seventy percent chance of going into remission.”
“Then what happened?”
Phil sat down at the picnic table, elbows on the edge, and a hand scraping over his face. “She went into remission, believe it or not. She went back for countless follow-up appointments and testing, and it was starting to look really good.”
Clint sat down across from Y/N’s dad and waited until Phil was ready to continue.
“The cancer came back freshman year of college, and it was manageable, at first. But then, late into her sophomore year, she stopped responding to treatment.”
“Wait, she… she stopped responding to treatment? Wha- what does that mean?” Clint desperately needed to know.
Phil rested his hand over Clint’s shaking ones. “It means the cancer is spreading a little more every day.”
“Her migraines,” Clint sighed heavily as he fully understood the gravity of the situation.
“They started as soon as the cancer started spreading to her brain.” Phil sniffled loudly as tears spilled down his cheeks.
Clint blew out a stuttering breath as tears stung his eyes. “Oh, my God,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s the reason for the promise.”
“What promise?” Phil wanted to know.
“When she agreed to help tutor me, she made me promise not to fall in love with her. I blew it off, thinking it was just a joke,” he explained.
Phil watched Clint carefully, gauging every microexpression that flashed across his face, reading his body language, and listening closely to the weight of his words. “You’re in love with her.”
“I… I think so, yeah,” Clint stammered, the corner of his lips pulling up in a lazy smile. “I didn’t mean to, it just… it all happened so fast.”
“Does she know how you feel?”
Clint was shaking his head. “No, I haven’t been able to.”
“Why don’t you go in and see her,” Phil offered.
“I thought she was sleeping.”
“She’s been sleeping for almost twelve hours,” Phil admitted with a sigh. “She’s bound to wake up soon.”
The butterflies that took up residence in Clint’s chest every time he saw Y/N came flooding back. “You don’t mind?”
“Truth be told, I could use some coffee.”
Clint shuffled into Y/N’s room and took his time making his way over to her bed, and when he was finally by her side, the sight of her about drove him to his knees. Her skin was ashen, her hair was greasy and stringy, pulled into a thin braid that was placed over her shoulder, and the circles under her eyes were almost black, making her closed eyes appear to be sunken deep into her skull.
He dropped into the chair that Phil had no doubt been sitting in, carefully took hold of her hand, and waited until she woke.
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