[log] i give this family two out of two dads [closed]

[awwnoun]

Characters: Tony, Natasha, Bucky, Frisk, Lutha and Clint
Location: Building 189
Date: Day 175, evening
Summary: This will probably be bad.
Warnings: Will update as necessary.

189: A single bedroom apartment. It's seen better days, but the door locks up at night. The window is sealed shut, with snow packed in on he other side allowing no light in. It's pitch black at night, but there is a couch to sleep on, even if the bed only has its frame. The bathroom has a toilet and shower--the shower doesn't work, but the toilet does.

Comments

[despiteeverything]

[That couch seems like it would be a wonderful place to sleep, wouldn't it? Which is why Frisk is leaving it for somebody else. Whether they need it more or not is a non-issue. They're tired, they can barely think. They just want to curl up and sleep until tomorrow. So they find a nice ("nice") corner of the room, set their stuff down, pull out their blanket and wrap themselves in it.

It doesn't really do much to help with the coughing. Or the dizziness. Or anything really. They try to muffle their coughing fits when they happen and try to wipe their hands afterwards on their red jacket, to cover up that they've been coughing up blood. Even their sleep isn't that restful, the coughing making it harder to do much more than nap and doze.

They do try to manage a smile towards anybody who approaches them, and are listening in between spells of dizziness when they're feeling a bit better. Lutha gets a slightly different response though. He just gets a long-suffering cross between a whine and a grumble.]

[hangfire]

[Oh, okay. Grumpy noises he can handle. He raises a brow, trying not to shine the light from his tablet directly into Frisk's face.]

That bad, huh.

[He lets out a sigh, tight with a grimace of discomfort as he struggles to kneel down to the kid's level.]

You sound horrible, squirt.

[despiteeverything]

[Another grumble, quieter, less harsh. They're honestly glad he's there, that he's checking on them. That anybody's there. That they're not- Bad thoughts. They try to chase them away and end up just shuffling them in a different direction this time.]

's how Mom was.

[They've noticed the similarities. To the developments in the past few days to how Toriel was at her worst. It's unsettling.]

[hangfire]

Mm...

[As yes, the dead mother subject. He might be a brash idiot, but he knows that's not something to pry at.]

Been long enough by now-- Oi, is your stuff nearby? You've got meds you should be taking. [Go, tablet flashlight, help him find Frisk's things as he keeps talking.]

You think you might have caught whatever the hell this is a while ago, then? Or maybe you just caught it from her when she was sick?

[awwnoun]

[ Look, Clint can't resist the little kid being sick, there's no way. Hearing them cough makes Clint's expression go from grouchy and annoyed to quietly concerned, which is why he makes his way over to Frisk and settles down by them. ]

Hey. Have we met before? I'm Clint. [ He's also got food - a little bag of apples with crappy caramel that he's been warming up between his hands. It's not much but it's sweet. ] You doing okay, kiddo?

[despiteeverything]

[Frisk takes a moment to rub at their face and mouth, in the vain hopes of maybe looking a bit more normal and not as horrible as they feel.]

Dunno um. I don't... [They frown, trying to focus. It's hard, but they think his name doesn't ring a bell.] Don't think so. I'm Frisk.

[They automatically reach their hand forward to shake his, then pause, realizing they're probably gross from how much they've been coughing. Instead they awkwardly pull it back and wipe their hand on their jacket, some more, ducking their head apologetically.]

It's um... I'm okay. Not great but um... Okay as I can be, I guess.

[If their illness is MN poisoning like Watson thinks, then there's not much that anybody can really do.]

[awwnoun]

[ Clint doesn't mind the aborted handshake, just gives Frisk a little smile and folds his legs under him. Maybe it's kind of weird, but he reaches to pull the blankets up around Frisk a little more tightly. Poor kid. ]

Nice to meet you. You sound like you're sick. [ He hasn't seen the blood yet. ] Do you have any medicine for it? I mean, I know sickness here doesn't exactly go away even with medicine. Natasha's got it too, even if she won't admit it, but trying to make yourself feel better is still worth a shot.

I've also got food. You should eat something, even if you feel gross. [ For as much as Clint can suck at human interaction, he really does try his hardest to be a good guy when there's kids around. ]

[advanced]

[Bucky's plan was initially to avoid the new people in the house at all costs. He's not the most sociable creature at the best of times, and he doesn't really trust himself now. Especially not with a child.

But then he hears them coughing.

It's a harsh and wet sort of cough, and one that he recognises from fractured memories as similar to Steve's in the worst winters, similar to Sarah's before she died. Concern overtakes caution and he pads closer. He thinks the child is asleep, so he just pulls off his coat and drapes it over them before attempting to lift them gently up and onto the couch.]

[despiteeverything]

[As he picks Frisk up, it'll be easy to tell that they're feverish - not high enough to be dangerous, but definitely enough to be noticeable. They've been dozing too, which means they haven't been working as hard to keep their face clean, and traces of blood remain.

They don't immediately rouse as he lifts them, but the slight vertigo is enough to make them stir and their eyes to slowly crack open. Not that it shows them much, with the room still dark. It's when they're set down on something relatively soft that the realize what's going on.]

Didn't hafta do that...

[They sound more surprised than anything. And maybe slightly grateful.]

[redrooms]

[Everyone is in for a treat, because Natasha is grumpy. Super grumpy. She's very obviously not talking to Clint, and every time he enters the room she's in, her demeanor turns positively frosty. Just after lockdown, Natasha searches the house, even going so far as to look under the couch. She does it almost methodically, then toys with the shower a bit, trying to get it to work and failing horribly.

Later, she camps out in the living room, back against one wall and focus locked on her tablet. It isn't that she's completely closed off—she does glance up if anyone approaches her—but she isn't exactly taking initiative to talk to anyone else just yet.]

[definingfuture]

[Tony knows that things are off and it's pretty clear to see that Natasha and Clint have had a falling out, but he doesn't immediately get involved. After all, she's still going through a lot and despite what a lot of people think back home, he does know when to stay out of other people's business. But with everything else going wrong and tension continuing to spike, eventually Tony has to confront her.

So when she's camping in the living room on her own--and doesn't he know that intent focus on none of them--he comes to stand nearby. He waits a beat, letting her get used to him before speaking.]

You look like someone that just got stumped by the three letter word on a crossword puzzle.

[redrooms]

[Natasha looks up, nose wrinkled.]

What is that supposed to mean?

[advanced]

[He's not an idiot, much as it might seem otherwise sometimes, so he has noticed that something has become strained with Natasha and Clint. He leaves it be all day in the hope it might resolve itself, but the way she's looking now--

--well, he eventually approaches, sliding down the wall to sit next to her without invitation.]

What happened?

[redrooms]

[Natasha frowns, looking slightly annoyed.]

Nothing important.

[Which isn't a lie!]

[hangfire]

[Guess who's avoiding the entire bathroom at all costs.

Granted, this is a step up from the close spaces of the other day. At least this place had room to breathe. But it's still too many people, enough to set Lutha immediately on edge the second the other group enters the apartment. His scarf stays firmly pulled around his face, casting cold glares at any of the strangers that bother to get within two feet of him - Bucky is easily the exception, earning skeptical glances and a constant following of Lutha's gaze.

It's too dark after sundown to do much of anything, but he won't be bothering to sleep. Outside of an odd round or two of checking on Frisk, the redhead will stay planted in a corner of the bedroom, either bleary looking through his things by tablet-light or curled up with his left side turned away from the doorway. While it might look at first glance that he's just propping his head up against his arm, it's really just an attempt to block out his good ear. He's not in the mood for eavesdropping, and ignoring people was so much easier when one just flat out couldn't hear a damn thing.

Suffice to say, he WILL jump if anyone enters his line of vision.]

[redrooms]

[Lutha is jumpy, and Natasha figures it's best to just leave well enough alone, but as she's walking past, he jumps pretty violently. It's enough of a reaction to get her to stop, regarding him for a second.]

You're fine. None of us are going to bother you.

[hangfire]

[He loses half of her words to the rush of his heartbeat pounding in his ears, so in the moments he has to try to rope his composure back in and angle himself to hear her decently, he does his best to fill in the blanks.]

Spirits-- Look, don't go sneaking around a dark house if that's your intention.

[advanced]

[He notices that the looks he's given are different from those of the others, but why? Is it because of his announcement over the network? Possible, but he didn't attach his face to that, so it might not be immediately apparent who he was.

It sets him on edge, like a creeping touch down his spine, and eventually he has to know what's going on. So he approaches Lutha before he ends up with his head pillowed down, brow furrowed and voice low.]

Why are you looking at me that way?

[awwnoun]

[ Clint doesn't even bother letting Lutha ignore him. He's not speaking to Natasha and she's out with Tony and the rest, so Clint just wanders his way into the bedroom, flopping down on his stomach on the bed and letting his arm hang off the side. He stares down at Lutha, squinting a little. ]

You are so not what I was expecting. [ It's a conversational starter, right? Lutha definitely wants a conversation. ]

[hangfire]

[It's hard to miss Clint just waltzing into the room like that, but Lutha doesn't offer him much to work with at first, shooting him a glare over the lines of his scarf and turning away further.

It's what he manages to catch from Clint's statement that gets him, albeit belatedly, glancing over at the bed with mixed confusion.]

...The hell is that supposed to mean? [What the hell did he even say?]

[definingfuture]

[Tony takes the larger group well enough. He always was used to company, having been surrounded by people his whole life, and a few extra faces don't bother him. He still looks worn and although he did pick up food, he's still not eating much. Starving is just becoming normal with the weight of everything else on him. He doesn't really avoid anyone, although he is quieter than usual, spending a lot of time poking at the metal arm Bucky left with him. He greets people that come around, though, and it's a small place. As it gets darker, he talks more.]

Now I just wish I had a light on me. This keeps making me think something is going to crawl out of the shadows while we're sleeping.

[awwnoun]

That's terrifying, thanks. [ Clint grumbles, dragging his bag over to flop down next to Tony. He sprawls down to the floor, not shy about his limbs probably flopping up against or on top of parts of Tony. Clint peers up at him. ] Have you eaten yet? Am I gonna have to take that stupid arm away from you and force feed you a Twinkie?

[definingfuture]

[The close contact doesn't bother him. If anything, it's a comfort to have a friend around. Sure, being leaned on when he's working is awkward, but Tony doesn't complain. He's got his project, which makes him at least feel a little better.]

I'm not hungry. [That probably came out wrong. Tony amends it.] After I'm done with this. These wires are a mess.

[despiteeverything]

[Oh... hey... They recognize that voice. They thought they had earlier, but it's been hard to focus on things like that when sick - most of the time either they were drifting, or else focusing on the immediate person they were talking to.

They actually stayed in a place like this their first night here, they remember.]

Tablet light helps some. [They cough, briefly.] s'not a lot but it helps.

[definingfuture]

Hi. [Tony perks up when he hears Frisk. The last time he spoke to them they were in a pretty bad way. He looks relieved that Frisk is alive, although...]

Are you okay?

[His problems with the dark can wait. That cough sounds familiar.]