Yeah. There's something coming. Stark might be running himself a little ragged with too many projects to keep up with, but he's not wrong in his paranoia. There's only so much they can do to prepare for what they don't know. There are too many problems here on Earth as it is.
So. Set that worry aside. It'll come when it comes, and they'll fight the good fight. Plan for it and hurry up and wait.
He tries to focus on Coulson's reassurances. There hasn't been any indication. No unnatural glow in his eyes, no posh Shakespearean reject voice in his ear, no phantom hand on his shoulder. No nothing that indicates that there's any open connection. It'll concern him until one day it doesn't anymore, and that day is not today, but he can take some solace in knowing that there's nothing provable.
But he's caught on the phrase put the right weapon in the hand of your agent, turning it over in his mind. The way Coulson said it. Thinks briefly about May, an ally, the interim handler that Clint consistently disrespected not out of any malice but because their styles hadn't meshed. What Coulson means is the scepter. But Clint sees something else.
"He knew how to use me." His gaze flicks briefly to his friend. "Like you do." What took years of trust building and trial and error, taken up effortlessly by an alien interloper. In a sense: Barton was the right weapon to put in Loki's hands. "That bothers you, doesn't it."
no subject
So. Set that worry aside. It'll come when it comes, and they'll fight the good fight. Plan for it and hurry up and wait.
He tries to focus on Coulson's reassurances. There hasn't been any indication. No unnatural glow in his eyes, no posh Shakespearean reject voice in his ear, no phantom hand on his shoulder. No nothing that indicates that there's any open connection. It'll concern him until one day it doesn't anymore, and that day is not today, but he can take some solace in knowing that there's nothing provable.
But he's caught on the phrase put the right weapon in the hand of your agent, turning it over in his mind. The way Coulson said it. Thinks briefly about May, an ally, the interim handler that Clint consistently disrespected not out of any malice but because their styles hadn't meshed. What Coulson means is the scepter. But Clint sees something else.
"He knew how to use me." His gaze flicks briefly to his friend. "Like you do." What took years of trust building and trial and error, taken up effortlessly by an alien interloper. In a sense: Barton was the right weapon to put in Loki's hands. "That bothers you, doesn't it."