Has to stand there and gulp down air a few time when Frank sets it right.
His motions feel sluggish when he moves over to his uneaten bowl. The thought of eating momentarily turns his stomach, but the order-following (sometimes) soldier in him says you hork down what you can when you can. He barely tastes it. But at least he eats it. Inhales it, even. Like finishing one last meal before setting out on a mission.
Frank takes care of what's left of the food, and Clint sets to washing dishes. Even with the bleeding. They know better than to bleed on food or clean dishes. It's all more than five minutes, but he figures nobody's going to complain about a break, a chance to stretch legs and breathe fresh air after being cooped up in there. Nobody else comes into the house. He has the brief, hysterical thought that it might already be haunted.
A little first aid never killed anyone. He looks, really looks at Frank's face, frowns, and gets the kit. They can at least stop their active bleeds.
It's a little more doing. And maybe now he's hanging on by whatever threads he can grasp at.
Very suddenly, all at once, he gets why Frank was going easy in the house. He was trying to get them outside so they could really go hog on each other without breaking anything. "Thanks." A little broken. A little hoarse. But he means it sincerely.
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Has to stand there and gulp down air a few time when Frank sets it right.
His motions feel sluggish when he moves over to his uneaten bowl. The thought of eating momentarily turns his stomach, but the order-following (sometimes) soldier in him says you hork down what you can when you can. He barely tastes it. But at least he eats it. Inhales it, even. Like finishing one last meal before setting out on a mission.
Frank takes care of what's left of the food, and Clint sets to washing dishes. Even with the bleeding. They know better than to bleed on food or clean dishes. It's all more than five minutes, but he figures nobody's going to complain about a break, a chance to stretch legs and breathe fresh air after being cooped up in there. Nobody else comes into the house. He has the brief, hysterical thought that it might already be haunted.
A little first aid never killed anyone. He looks, really looks at Frank's face, frowns, and gets the kit. They can at least stop their active bleeds.
It's a little more doing. And maybe now he's hanging on by whatever threads he can grasp at.
Very suddenly, all at once, he gets why Frank was going easy in the house. He was trying to get them outside so they could really go hog on each other without breaking anything. "Thanks." A little broken. A little hoarse. But he means it sincerely.