cognitived | overflow post

[ 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.

overflow post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject