[log] clint barton's no good very bad week [closed]

[awwnoun]

Characters: Clint, Steve, Ecks, Natasha and Tony
Location: Building 108
Date: Days 155 and 156
Summary: Clint finally meets Steve face to face after he revives - and also finds Ecks again. Nat and Tony catch up the next day.
Warnings: Will update as necessary!

108: A standard single-story house with a kitchen, living room, dining room, bathroom, and bedroom. The bed in the bedroom is a loft-style bed, giving extra space for the desk beneath it. One of the desk drawers is empty, and the others have countless small plastic cases that look like they could have been SD cards, although there aren't any computer chips in them. These are only plastic shells.

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Day 155

[awwnoun]

Just before Lockdown

[bottledblond]

Steve shouldn't have lingered. He'd checked the crazy math house three times before he came to grips with the fact that Bucky had indeed left the moment that the fog cleared and the doors unlocked. He couldn't blame him. Not after their conversation the day before.

With almost half an hour wasted, Steve took off at a greater pace than he likely should have. He tried to calculate in his head how far he had to go without freezing his fingers off to check the map House made on the pad. It was still fairly concerning how easily the weather and the lack of benefit from the serum could hold him up.

Steve didn't bother ducking into any of the houses, not even for a moment, to warm up along the way.

Bad idea.

Clint, and anyone else inside the house, would hear a sick, wet coughing coming from a few yards away as Steve bent over, hands on his knees, and spat congestion into the snow. The sky was turning purple now. The tablet reminded him that he had only a minute, maybe two, to get inside. Still coughing, he sprinted the final distance. Normally, he'd be more polite and knock but...

Well, time was of the essence. Steve grabbed the door handle and tumbled inside, red face and gasping.

[awwnoun]

Clint hears that coughing immediately, which has him standing up - he's been worried about the guy. He hadn't wanted to pull his hands out of his pockets to check on Steve with his tablet, and by the time he figures out he needs to stop for the night, he thinks he might have to spend the night alone.

He doesn't, thankfully. The night in the church by himself sucked. And hey, Clint likes Ecks.

In any case, Clint is at the door when Steve tumbles in, which mean Clint gets an armful of Steve Rogers. Normally this would be full of more whoa whoa whoas, but Clint is completely voiceless. So instead, Steve gets Clint helping him up and grinning a little sheepishly, patting Steve on the back.

The door locks behind them. Talk about cutting it close.

[bottledblond]

It's more than an arm full! Steve might not have the other physical benefits of the serum, but he still had all of the bulk it afforded his once scrawny little body. Unfortunately, that bulk hadn't lent Steve any help in the lungs department.

Doctor Watson warned him that his cold would likely get worse and worse over the course of the next month and though Steve had believed him, he hadn't actually gotten around to heeding his warning just yet. It was entirely his fault.

"Sorry--" That was a wheeze. He shouldn't have tried to speak yet. He'd lived most of his life with asthma. You'd have thought that he would know how to handle an attack, but it was just so easy to forget what sucking air through a straw for each and every breath could really be like.

So...sorry, Clint. But he's going down.

afternoon

[ecks]

[Clint is alive and he does not seem in very dire condition, so Ecks does not go to him quite directly. She does arrive well before lockdown, though, letting herself in with her usual quietness and checking the corners before coming all the way in.]

Clint?

[awwnoun]

[ Clint is just chilling in the bedroom, so when he hears Ecks actually call out, he grins a little. He pulls himself up and goes to find her, and when he does, he waves. A beat, and then he pulls out his tablet, typing out a sentence so that it'll read it out loud.

Monotone voice to monotone voice: ] Hey, Ecks. Sorry, voice is gone, hope this doesn't bother you.

[ecks]

[Ecks straightens, watches him -- and raises her hand in imitation. Direct imitation, as a matter of fact; it's a near identical motion of her arm.]

It does not bother me. That is what you lost from dying?

late evening, after Watson done goofs

[ecks]

[Ecks has been poking at her tablet all evening, glancing up at the two men now and then, responding when spoken to. Generally she has been more relaxed than usual.

Then, suddenly, she becomes hyper focused on whatever she's reading. Ecks goes dead quiet as she quickly scrolls through something, casting more surreptitious glances at her companions now until --

Yes. It is written there.

Quietly, very quietly, she stands, grabs her bag, and quickly stalks off into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. A moment later, there is the sound of her dragging the desk over in front of it.]

[awwnoun]

[ ... Poor Ecks. Clint watches her make her way to the bedroom, but he can't say anything about it - he tries, and then makes a frustrated face when she vanishes through the door. The desk gets him to almost laugh, just because he's wholly inappropriate.

He doesn't, but he does scoot over to the door and stand in front of it, jabbing his words into his tablet so she can hear him. ]

Ecks? Everything ok?

[ He figures it has to do with Watson's whole thing, but. ]

[ecks]

[Oh no, he's right outside the door. What tipped him off? She lies, speaking in a too-rapid monotone.]

Yes. Yes, everything is okay. I went to the bedroom to sleep. I am sleeping in the bedroom now.

Day 156

[awwnoun]

for clint!

[redrooms]

[Sometime after lockdown, Natasha finds Clint. He made her grab those stupid books from that house last night, and now she's going to foist them off on him. Really, though, she's hoping to cheer him up, so even though she approaches him with a very stern look on her face, there's a smile creeping through. She drops the books in his lap, the Russian spy one on top.]

I thought you might be interested in that one.

[awwnoun]

[ HOLY SHIT. This is the biggest score he's ever seen! She drops the books in his lap and he grabs at them, looking over the titles. It takes about three seconds for him to figure out what the Russian spy on is, and it pulls a pretty gleeful look up on his face. What a fucking nerd, really.

He opens his mouth to say something out of habit, pauses, and then wrinkles his nose before signing holy shit at Nat. He's got his hearing aids in, so he can hear her, at least, as he flicks through the book. ]

[redrooms]

[Natasha smiles, sitting down in front of him.]

Sign slowly. I'm rusty.

[She grabs the Russian spy book again, holding it up in front of him.]

Should we see how many terrible inaccuracies there are?

annnd an open one

[redrooms]

[Natasha spends most of the night alternating between her tablet and Clint, because sometimes she's predictable. She checks the network obsessively on a good night, but she's especially bad tonight, because she's trying to distract herself. After a while, she parks herself in the kitchen with a length of twine tied to one table leg, twisting it tightly and carefully into a stronger, thicker length. She might not have her garotte or her Widow's line, so she's improvising, but it might make her look a little nuts.]

[bottledblond]

"Is that Cat's Cradle?" Steve hadn't exactly been keeping to himself so much as trying not to do anything to summon another coughing fit or asthma attack again. He's been very generous with the junk food he'd gotten from the market three days back and had a pack of cookies in his hand now to share with Natasha.

He crouched down to see what she was doing, eyebrows arched.

"I haven't seen anyone do that in years."

[redrooms]

That's not what she's doing, so she shakes her head, but she ties off the cord she's working on and grabs some of the extra twine, tying that off into a loose loop, and then weaving it into a cradle between her hands. "Careful, Steve," she says, holding her hands out to him. "Everyone will know how old we are."

General Talky Thing for all? (Afternoon)

[definingfuture]

[Tony approaches everyone later in the afternoon, telling them they should talk. His eyes are bloodshot, but with the weather it could very likely be the onset of a bug. Cold or Flu, maybe. They are having bad luck with the conditions of the town. After the fallout the day before, he figures that they really do need a plan. They don't know how anyone will react at this point.]

This week has been a real winner so far. Is everyone okay?

[Bucky told him Steve is sick and he's checking on that. And on Clint, who seems to be in one piece, but he knows the man likes to downplay his health too. And Nat... Tony just hopes she's okay now that Clint is back.]

[redrooms]

[Natasha has plopped herself down next to Clint, legs stretched out in front of her. She is feeling better, so when she nods, it isn't a lie. She has a feeling, though, that Tony hasn't gathered them all to check on their well-being, or at least that's not the only reason.]

Well, certainly better than we were two days ago.

[bottledblond]

Steve had managed to steer clear of Tony for the most part since he and Natasha had arrived. There were some pleasantries here or there, a little smile, but Steve had seen that Stark was carrying around a whole lot of weight. He himself had not seen what the files that Watson had accidentally leaked were. He had arrived at the network post too late since he was busy having in person conversations with Clint. Even if he had seen the files, he wouldn't have understood how to see the supposedly redacted portions. He'd gotten pretty good with technology but he didn't have the foundation to work out little tricks like that.

"I was better ten days ago," Steve said, though ten days-- Had it been that long? He wondered what the others were doing and, not for the first time, wished Sam was here to talk him through some of the decisions and insecurities he'd been working on for the last few days. "What exactly did you want to discuss?"

Because the last time Tony Stark wanted to gather everyone to talk... Things went poorly.

Later Afternoon

[definingfuture]

[After several long talks and getting all the emotions squared away, Tony retreats to the kitchen of the house they are staying in. He wants to give everyone time to sort things out on their own, because it's been one disaster after another and they really just need a break. Maybe water will help. He chooses the kitchen because it at least feels a little more normal to have a drink in the kitchen. That's the idea, at least.]

[awwnoun]

[ Clint is still angry. After everything, after all of that conversation, he's tired, and upset, and he feels like he still has a fight in him. And he doesn't really want to provoke Tony further, but he does want to make something clear, and so he holds up his tablet so it can read off what he's typed into it, from across the room. ]

You need to decide what you want out of me because threatening me with the whole you're not part of the team just kidding you are thing is getting old.

[ And he'll wait a few seconds to see if he gets a reply before turning to leave. He doesn't quite yet. ]

[definingfuture]

[Tony doesn't really notice at first, and when he looks up at Clint to see the tablet facing him he is completely confused. He stares blankly, surprise written on his face because he thought he was alone.]

What? Nothing. I don't- Is there still a team? You didn't tell me that.

[He rubs his face, trying to clear his eyes.]

I keep wondering if it all came together. I can't see how it would, but I hope it would. Or maybe it's better if it doesn't.

I didn't mean what I said.

[redrooms]

[Natasha gives everyone a little bit of time to breathe before tracking Tony down to the kitchen. It seems like in all of these disagreements, she's always the one that comes out the least upset, so here she is, trying to figure out what the hell that was. She leans against the table, crossing her arms.]

Well, that was a mess.

[definingfuture]

[Tony leans with both hands on the counter top, head lowered. He knows he screwed that up, and unsurprisingly Natasha shows up to point that out.]

Yeah. It was... yeah.