At this early in the morning only a handful of people were up. One of which was in the kitchen, cleaning up a mess an archer brought to his apartment. Steve had put his sewer smelled clothes into the washer right away and was now doing the dishes they both had left behind from the hot coco. Steve didn't mind being up this early (or late), he would have gotten up anyways in a couple hours to go for a run, come back around eight, have a nice breakfast, and get ready for the day. It was different this morning though, this morning he was going to have a talk with Clint and find out why exactly he came to Steve's apartment unexpectedly. But, all he could do right now was wait.

The kitchen was now spotless and Steve had found a comfy place on his couch and was now watching reruns of Friends. He found a new liking to that show, made him feel comfortable that people were also just living in New York. After he'd gotten out of the ice he had felt that he was in a whole different world, he felt like a guy visiting a place he has heard of, but never really had the desire to be there or the desire to learn anything about it. He just wanted to go home, but that wasn't possible. So he found refuge with the Avengers, he came to realize people were just as messed up as him, if not more, and as weird as it sounds, he's grateful people are weirder then him and that they struggle living in this world as much has he does. He envies the Friends character's, where they don't have to worry about anything except just living with each other in NYC, getting or losing jobs, and worrying about your best friends when their down. 'Huh, I guess that is like me.'

A moan was what brought Steve back to the world he was living. Confused, he got up and made his way to the guest room where Clint was staying. He knocked on the door, not wanting to be rude, then waited a few moments after he didn't receive a reply and walked into the darkened room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Everything was in order, it almost looked like no one was occupying this room except for the bed that was holding a person who was clearly uncomfortable. Clint was twisting and turning in the covers, his feet getting tangled up at the bottom. He would make a sound every few seconds out of discomfort. Steve made his way over to his guest, almost tripping over the towel Clint had used earlier. The younger man didn't look good at all. He was pale, but flushed around his cheekbones. Sweat was covering his forehead and all along his skin. His eyes were moving quickly around under his eyelids, and his hair was mused. Steve soon came to the conclusion that Clint was sick.

"Clint? Hey buddy, wake up." Steve shook his shoulders.

Clint gave another moan, then all the sudden he shot up out of bed, almost knocking Steve over, and ran into the bathroom. Steve was confused, but soon understood when he heard the sounds of puking coming from the bathroom. He walked in finding the man leaning over the toilet, dry heaving. Steve rushed over to his side, rubbing his back and smoothing back his hair as he finished. He leaned back heavily into Steve, out of energy and clearly exhausted. They sat there for a few minutes waiting for Clint to get his breath back. His eyes were shut from pain and simply because he couldn't keep them open any longer. Steve still kept smoothing back his hair trying to calm him and get his rapid pulse to slow down. A few more minutes passed and Steve could feel Clint relaxing against him.

"Hey bud, it's time for bed." Steve said, breaking the silence.

Clint shivered and leaned against him to get more warmth, shaking his head while doing so. "Don't wa'na move" He mumbled.

"Well I do, this floor is really uncomfortable." Steve shifted into a kneeling position. "Come on, get up." He pulled Clint up with him. Clint leaned heavily against him, squeezing his eyes shut. "What's wrong?"

Clint waited a second before he answered, opening his eyes. "Got light headed."

Steve had to practically carry him to bed, though Clint tried to walk on his own, it didn't work. Steve set him down gently, now just taking notice that Clint was drenched in sweat, and so was his bedding.

Steve sighed. "Come on." He hoisted Clint up again.

"We'r' we go'ng?" He asked, leaning on Steve again as they walked out of the room.

"Another bed, it'll be more comfortable for you." Steve set him down again on his own bed. "I'll be right back."

Steve was only gone for a second, but by the time he got back, Clint was barely keeping his head up. "I'm back." He made himself known. Clint looked up quickly noticing the t-shirt and pajama pants in Steve's hand.

"Why...?" He asked confused.

"Do you need me to give you some privacy?" Steve asked, not answering his question.

Clint simply nodded, that was all Steve needed before he was out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

Steve made his way back over to the guest room, he removed all the sheets and started them in the wash. He came back to his room where Clint was now occupying and knocked softly on the door. "Clint? You done?"

He heard a muffled 'no', he could hear Clint clearly struggling on the other side. Screw awkwardness, he thought before he opened the door finding Clint with only the pajama pants on and a shirt in his hands.

Steve sighed to himself before he answered. "Here, let me help you." He took the shirt from Clint's hand, the kid taking a seat on the bed himself, and pulled one hand though the sleeve, then the other before he pulled it over Clint's head. "There, now go to bed." Steve pushed Clint down into a laying position and covered him with the blanket. He smoothed back his hair one more time, Clint leaned into the cool touch, his eyes already closed. "Goodnight, Clint." He smiled amusingly to himself. Turning off the lamp light, he then left the room to finish making the guest bed so that he could have somewhere to sleep tonight. Gosh, that kid's gonna be the death of him.

All through the night Steve came back into the room to check Clint's temperature and change the washcloth on his forehead. Clint threw up two more times that night, though Steve was prepared with a bowl, rag, and water bottle to clean up after. In conclusion, Steve didn't get much sleep that night, but around eight in the morning Clint was now sleeping a restless sleep and Steve decided to take a nap on the couch until Clint woke up.

Three hours can do a lot to a man. Just hours before Steve felt like he could collapse forever, now he felt like he could run a marathon. That lasted a total of twenty seconds before an ill looking archer walked in with red around his eyes and looking like death ran over him with a bulldozer twice.

How am I going to do this?

What's up?!

I know I keep saying this, but I am SORRY! I've decided that I'm not going to update every week (though I'll still try) but instead update whenever I want. So no more sorry notes, it's just gonna be this way for a bit. I'm literally up until midnight writing this when I also have homework and things due tomorrow.

You're welcome, I am now getting F's because of you. I'm just kidding! It's not your fault, in fact I have all A's so no harm, no fowl.

What did you think of this chapter? It was really fluffy, I know, but you kinda have to expect it from this chapter (and later chapters, in fact this whole story!). Steve's having a hard time, but he's handling it pretty well, though he's already exhausted and it's only been one night (with many more to come, Mwahahaha!). But Clint's been taking a real liking to him so far, even though he's not really there at the moment.

Well, I have many ideas for the next chapter to come, there's going to be more Clint whump and more fluffiness, and who knows, maybe we'll figure out what Clint was doing before he came to Steve's apartment.

Anyways, thank you for all the reviews, I REALLY appreciate it. And of course please review! The more reviews the faster I get cracking on this story!

Love you guys!

P.S. I might be starting a new story in the Mission Impossible scheme, so keep your eyes peeled, and I'll keep you guys updated!

Peace.