cognitived | overflow post

[ cont. ]

[ He laughs, softly under his breath, and tosses Isha a faintly challenging look. Yeah, maybe that was a compliment, maybe it was an insult, but hell it isn't the first time. Isn't even the worst thing he's heard. ]

When working with Tony, there's no space for subtlety. [ Tilts his head, birdlike, idly curious. ] I'd be up for a challenge if you're not afraid to lose.

[ Yeah, poking fun. But hell, they're alive, he's got his best friend back and some hot chocolate. Things are good. ]

So he's mentioned many, many times.

[She raises a brow at him. She's read his files. No, she couldn't wield a bow and arrow like he could, but her knife skills are impeccable, and her stealth game even without the noise-canceling boots is incredible.]

Assuming that I ever lose. Very brave of you.

[ Well at least someone reads files. Not that Clint particularly wants people to read his file. Its kind of a pain having all that out there. He shrugs, easily, a cocky little grin curling at his mouth. ]

I never miss. [ Yeah, that was in his file, you have to know that one Isha. ] You?

[ He does fully realize what an arrogant little shit he's being. But hell, Clint can't bring himself to care. A good challenge is always worth it, and he's curious now. ]

Neither do I, but even when I miss I still hit something of value.

[A job is a job. She finishes it, and even when it goes awry she maintains control and puts it back together before anyone could notice.

Everything is gold to her. Nothing could ever go to waste in her games.]

[ cont. ]

[ That's true, he laughs soft under his breath, rubbing a finger over Nic's head. Turns his attention back to Peter, head cocked as he listens to him. Nic doesn't really let him leave though, chattering and clutching at Clint's fingers with his own tiny hands. Clint lets him, and okay yeah he definitely adores the little furbaby. ]

Yeah. [ His own face brightens even more, a ease and lightness that would certainly be new to Peter. ] My partner was one of them.

[ Good. Nic needs some decent, caring, capable influences. And sure, Clint might not fit every one of those parameters, but he's got a couple of them down at the very least.

And he'll probably be a better uncle than Peter a dad. So. ]

Your partner?

From - from back home?

[ One day he will live up to Peter's good influence counter and be a properly great grandpapa birb. For now, yeah, he has one or two of those down, and he really does like Nic and Peter so -- yeah.

Clint nods, mouth curving in a small but easy smile. ]

Yeah, from back home. Didn't expect her to show up, but she always does when you least expect her to.

Man. Man, that's awesome. I mean, it's kind of a double-edged sword, though, isn't it? Like on the one hand, you're relieved to have someone you know with you, but on the other ... the CDC isn't exactly the best place for a reunion.

[ He would know. He recently experienced his very own reunion, short as it was. ]

Yeah. [ He breathes, rubs at his neck. Tired, tired. ] She was here before me though, got transfered off to Lusania.

[ Clint's gaze tracks over to Peter though, brow raised, head tipped. Yeah, he gets it, knows Peter is speaking from experience. ]

Who'd you see?

[ It's that obvious, huh?

Even if Peter does wear his emotions on his sleeve for the most part, never really good at hiding how he feels - or anything. Has anyone actually been convinced by his dumb white lies? Anyone? Bueller? ]

Huh - ?

Oh.

Yeah, um. My - my girlfriend, Gwen. It was during the big Neraki fight ... thing, and new recruits were falling from the sky in parachutes. I - uh. I was lucky and unlucky to find her.

[ His gaze softens, just a tad. On his shoulder, Nic grabs at Clint's ear, chittering away, but Clint simply reaches up and pets him, watching Peter intently. ]

You lose her after?

[ Softly, softly. He's very careful with this, knowing exactly how Peter feels right about now. If it'd been -- well. Clint misses people back home, deeply, all encompassingly. But he'd never want them to show up here, he'd never unleash this horror upon them. He's pretty sure that's where Peter is right about now. ]

[ Peter nods. ]

Hm. Yeah.

[ God, no matter how many times he talks about it, it's never gonna be easier, not when there are so many unknowns and so many little details that make no sense. And he knows Gwen, knows that if she's decided to sign up with the CDC, there's no stopping her no matter what he might try to do to convince her that it's a bad idea. ]

Yeah, she was - uh. Injured, it was her ankle or something; everything was a mess, it was chaos, neither of us could really take a moment, you know? But I got her outta there, got her up one of the taller trees away from the fighting and I told her I'd come back, but I had to help out, I had to make it safe again.

[ For Gwen, for the CDC, for all the new recruits, for himself. Whatever the reason is, he regrets it. He should have stayed with her, waited out the fighting. Something. ]

When I got back, she was gone. I looked everywhere but ... I don't know where she ended up.

[ He'd had his head down the whole time while he spoke, a shrug here, the shake of his head there, and now he looks up at Clint, half-wondering why he'd just spilled his guts like that. There's something about him, something Peter respects and admires and feels like he could bond with, not unlike what he'd felt with Isha. ]

[ Yeah, yeah he understands. Clint aches for Peter, for the obvious hurt that's eating at him through this. Gwen is clearly important to Peter, as important as Natasha was, as important as Laura would be, or Cooper, or Lila. God forbid any of them arrive, Clint would probably sell himself for their freedom, anything, everything.

There's muted pain, soft understanding, written in Clint's expression when Peter looks up at him. It's a surprise to have someone spill their guts to him, but not by much. He's worked interrogation, he's worked to get victims and traumatized people to trust him and help, to spill information that lodged itself in their throats. He knows how to be calming, how to draw poison from the wound. He wasn't trying here, but that happens sometimes, the quiet support of someone listening and standing still by your side. ]

You can't blame yourself. [ Clint catches Peter's shoulder in the palm of his hand, squeezes softly. ] You did what you had to do, you couldn't have predicted what would happen. Not any more than you'd predict her showing up here.

[ Nic, at his shoulder, sneezes and hops back over to Peter's shoulders. Huffily pretending like he didn't want to. Clint smiles, a bit, and looks Peter in the eye, treating him not as a kid who lost his girlfriend, but as another agent who lost a partner. ]

She could be on the Neheda, or they could have transferred her to another crew. Nat was missing for a while after I spotted her, after all.

[ Peter appreciates Clint's support, quiet, strong, solid, suddenly reminded of his uncle Ben, because whenever Peter was feeling down or like he couldn't deal with whatever was going on at school, or life, or whatever, he was there too. Strong and quiet and always there.

(Until he wasn't.)

He also appreciates his little furball climbing back onto his shoulder, surprised at the small gesture but grateful nevertheless. ]

I'd been thinking, you know, if I could ask to get transferred to wherever she was. Do you think they'd do that? I don't even know why she ended up here at all. It's - I don't know how they got to her.

[ If he knew the thread of Peter's thoughts, Clint would be unbearably honored. They don't know each other's pasts, their lives, but here and now Clint's grateful for Peter. Even now that he's worried and concerned and faintly grieving, Peter's thoughtful and trying to figure out this future.

He's far more mature than Clint was at that age -- but then again Clint was a kid coming out of a circus, tossing himself headlong into the military in what would eventually lead to a life as an assassin. He hopes Peter has a far different fate, but here in the CDC, on Red, well. Who knows. ]

You could ask. [ Softly, thoughtful. ] They'd probably extend your contract if you did, seems like something they'd do.

Ugh, you're right. That seems exactly like something they would do. And then I'll be here forever.

[ And who knows how long he's expected to live either? He's never really given very much thought to his mortality, particularly when he's been given these powers - but it suddenly occurs to him that it's possible his spider-powers might accelerate the years of his life; it's too grim to consider.

Peter shakes his head. ]

I could ask though. It won't hurt me to do that much, right? I've gotta know, at the very least.

[ cont. ]

[ Clint eyes Chase, head cocked, faintly amused. But as soon as Chase pulls back, Clint's steadying himself, gaze flitting away to double check on the other treehouse occupants. They're all alive, so that's really the best any one can ask for at the moment. Which really just means that for now, Clint's perfectly fine staying up in their tree, relying on quick reflexes, a whole lot of luck, and magic to keep them aloft.

It's kind of just like every other Tuesday by this point, really.

But honestly, Chase is a strange tiny child, and yet he likes it. Which probably says something about Clint, too. ]

I'm sure you can. [ Wryly said. Mouth twitching up at one corner, just as teasing. ] You need a safe word just in case?

[ cont. ]

[ Clint nods, understanding exactly what she means. He's still not entirely sure how best to handle the Bahari, Courser is the only one he's spent an overmuch amount of time with and the little guy's a tracker not one of the berserkers. Maybe things are different between those kinds as well? Who knows.

He just shrugs, following after Cissnei with careful steps. He doesn't want to bump into anything or send any cordoned off spaces falling apart. His mouth curves up at one corner, a lopsided smile. ]

Well I won't say no to a little bit.

[ Considering he's planning to run out and climb up a treehouse a little later, that's reasonable. ]

[Cissnei nods at his response; she's not planning on too much either when there's a rover full of pets to wrangle. She pushes the bottle at him, for him to take what he wants first because that's what a good host does.

She also digs out something for Blizzard to gnaw on, petting gently at the back of his head to try to settle him. She's never really had cause to understand that animals can be more sensitive to things than humans are but she's determined to take care of him to the best of her ability all the same.]

Let's just hope whatever this is passes quickly.

[ cont. ]

[ His head ducks down as she slips the earbud in his ear, reaching up to fix it so it rests comfortably over his 'aid. Hanna takes the moment to scroll through her iPod, the little dated click wheel drawing an amused little look and smile from Clint, but hell. He can't fault her for liking a nostlagia element, his main shtick is fighting with a prehistoric weapon.

So yeah okay, he sits back and listens to some space pop, sounds like a great idea right about now. ]

Mm, not bad though. [ Clint says, as he sips at his hot cocoa, head cocked. ] This some new stuff?

[The click wheel iPod is a memory of better times. It does one thing and one thing only: play music. Hanna didn't need anything fancy to play her music. Just something to store it, to play it, and a pair of headphones.

She nods.]

Stuff I missed while I was stuck here with the likes of you.

[Said teasingly, as she bumps his shoulder lightly with his.]

Whoever gave this to me at least bothered to put in a bunch of new stuff. I wonder who did it.

[ cont. ]

[ It's not only for her benefit, even if it largely is. Pretending like it's just another mission brief normalizes this, though Clint's spent long enough time here that this is actually rather normal. Unsettling, and certainly more than a single team is up in arms about this. He wouldn't expect any different, knows, in vivid technicolor, just how badly this can go.

So yeah, he's tensed, angry, worried over Natasha and the Team and the rest of the crew. This is -- familiar. Easy. Clint nudges right on back, briefly, and forces himself to relax. ]

Not really. [ His head tips back, hands in pockets, a faintly frustrated breath leaving him. ] Haven't seen any of the instructors around either.

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