Upstairs: With Oswin
Aug. 2nd, 2015 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
When Clint walks into the bar... he doesn't want to be here.
He hurts, all over, with a headache and bandaging across his back, and pain medicine working with the lack of sleep. Even after 12 hours crashed at Stark Tower last night.
But he owes someone an apology. So he gets a bottle of water, and takes off his sunglasses (tucking them over his shirt) before making his way upstairs.
He stops at Oswin's door, leans his good shoulder against the wall, and knocks.
If it's a little quiet, well: he's a little freaked out.
He hurts, all over, with a headache and bandaging across his back, and pain medicine working with the lack of sleep. Even after 12 hours crashed at Stark Tower last night.
But he owes someone an apology. So he gets a bottle of water, and takes off his sunglasses (tucking them over his shirt) before making his way upstairs.
He stops at Oswin's door, leans his good shoulder against the wall, and knocks.
If it's a little quiet, well: he's a little freaked out.
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Date: 2015-08-01 05:41 am (UTC)A small spidery robot peers down at Clint from over the edge of the door frame.
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Date: 2015-08-01 05:46 am (UTC)While startled, his eyes are the same faded blue-grey that they normally are, though his face is haggard with exhaustion.
"Uh, hi," he says. He knows Oswin has spider bots. "Are you a livefeed?"
He knows that quality of silence, but he's not sure how these things work.
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Date: 2015-08-01 05:55 am (UTC)Then there's a blast of sound (Toreador, at volume), rapidly silenced from both the bot and, softer, inside the apartment.
'Sorry, sorry, wrong button.' Oswin's voice, slightly tinny with the connection and the bot's tiny speakers, follows the music.
She doesn't want to be afraid.
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Date: 2015-08-01 06:15 am (UTC)He waves it off. "Um. You don't ... " he hesitates.
He's not this guy. The guy who hurts his friends.
Except he does. Except he's hurt this friend, and he outright murdered hundreds more.
"Are you all right?"
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Date: 2015-08-01 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-01 06:26 am (UTC)Then he grins, a little. "N--Dee kind of gave me a concussion. Hard restart, right?" He swallows. "Oswin -- I'm -- God, I'm just glad I didn't break it."
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Date: 2015-08-01 06:32 am (UTC)Oswin is a genius, a survivor... and not exactly known for her amazing life choices.
"There was something wrong, I knew it."
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Date: 2015-08-01 06:45 am (UTC)"Yeah," he says, and breathes shakily. It could be a laugh. "Is it -- okay if I sit?"
Here, or inside, he just... isn't sure how long he can stay upright.
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Date: 2015-08-01 06:49 am (UTC)"You should come in, I have. Um. Chairs. And things. Are you alright? I mean, are you going to be alright, 'cause you're not..." She flails her way through that sentence with a startling lack of coherency, backing away from the open doorway to let him in.
And if she's careful to keep one of her hands out of sight, that's her own business.
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Date: 2015-08-01 06:54 am (UTC)"Um, yeah. Yeah, they're... checking me out. Going in for a complete debrief ... soon." He bites his lip, and finally glances up again. "Do you want me to explain?"
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Date: 2015-08-01 06:59 am (UTC)"Um. I mean. If you want to. You seemed..."
Odd. Angry.
Very angry.
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Date: 2015-08-01 07:18 am (UTC)He takes a sip of water. "The place I've been leading security for got attacked," he settles on, as a starting place. "By an alien," he adds, and he realizes belatedly that's not weird to Oswin probably, but that's weird to him. "He, uh -- wanted to take over Earth. And figured I'd be pretty helpful. So he used this--"
Clint swallows, throat dry. He looks down at his water bottle, but doesn't drink anymore of it. "He had something," he says, quieter. "It got in you, and it... re-aligned your perspective." He laughs, quietly. "Nothing mattered, except what mattered to him. And what could... be useful to him."
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Date: 2015-08-01 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-01 07:29 am (UTC)Clint swallows, hard.
"He didn't. We won."
If it sounds less triumphant than it should, well. Clint got a lot of people killed (Clint killed a lot of people) before it ever got to that point.
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Date: 2015-08-01 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-01 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-01 07:42 am (UTC)Generally she tries to not hit people about the head.
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Date: 2015-08-01 07:45 am (UTC)"So I'm glad you didn't."
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Date: 2015-08-01 07:47 am (UTC)She fiddles with the tea-rag, awkwardly.
"There's a doctor. Not, um. Him, of course. But she... she helps." Oswin explains, made hesitant again.
"She said I should avoid you."
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Date: 2015-08-01 07:52 am (UTC)"Yeah," he says, quiet. "That's... fair. I -- can promise that in 43 years this is the first time I've ever had... this happen. But I can't -- promise it won't again. They're ... going to be putting me through two weeks of quarantined testing.
"And I hurt you."
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Date: 2015-08-01 07:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-01 08:01 am (UTC)His brow furrows.
"Had they... met you?"
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Date: 2015-08-01 08:04 am (UTC)"He had a point... but why do you think I don't like doctors? The definite article thinks I'm the epitome of evil."
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Date: 2015-08-01 08:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-01 08:16 am (UTC)"Well, so's your alien, so there."
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Date: 2015-08-01 08:41 am (UTC)Normally, here, he'd ask for a hug. She looks like she could use one.
To be honest, he could use a hug as well.
But... if he was her, he wouldn't feel safe.
"I should probably get heading back," he says. "Get my sleep in while I can."
While he still has access to Nat.
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Date: 2015-08-01 08:52 am (UTC)"You're not... I mean. You'll come back." She refuses to make it a question. A question he can deny. A statement he should have a harder time with.
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Date: 2015-08-01 09:05 am (UTC)If Fury asks him to put a gun in his mouth, then no.
But until that day, yes.
He stands, carefully. "I still owe you a roadtrip, don't I?"
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Date: 2015-08-01 09:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-01 06:23 pm (UTC)He decides against it.
"Roger that. No dinosaurs. I'll put it on the itinerary."
He hesitates at the door, then just smiles at her, and leaves.
That... could have gone a lot worse.