brandingproblem | open post

Got it, Steve thinks when Clint's head comes up and his shoulders go down.

He's not shocked. He is not, even now that they're here, surprised. It makes sense. It fits. It fits what Clint has lost, who Clint is, and what Clint's been doing. Clint's reaction is subtle, but clear enough, and it's a relief.

It's a relief because it gives Steve a way of being useful to Clint, but almost more importantly, he doesn't consider what he's talking about anything like unhealthy. It might well be the most healthy coping mechanism he can think of for this man in these circumstances.

It's sure as hell a lot healthier than Ronin.

He stays put on the floor, keeps his eyes on Clint. Continues to be real damn matter of fact in answering what is a completely fair question. "I like helping people who matter to me. Help comes in flavors besides vanilla."

Can't flirt without tripping over his own feet. This? Easy. Because of the motivation. Familiarity. What the dynamic is. Already knowing and caring.

Clint gives a scoff, a sharp little shake of his head, setting aside the remnants of his meal and leaning forward, arms across his knees. "That's a damned cop-out and you know it. Didn't ask what you like. I asked what you want."

Sure, he can rephrase it. Clint expects something pithy like 'I want to help you', which might be true but would be annoying. 'I want to make sure you don't die because we're friends' would also be a restatement of what Steve's already said and also annoying.

Maybe what Steve wants is to feel something. Maybe what he wants is for the world to go back to the way it was. Maybe what he wants is to go back to the 40's and live out the rest of his life the way he was supposed to. At least that would feel more real.

"What I need and want is people to stop asking me questions about what I want and need and then asking me like I'm lying or evading when I give them an answer. Then acting shocked when I stop telling them," he snaps.

He drags one hand back through his hair in frustration, then lets it fall. "You're not hearing me - or maybe just not getting it. I'm not offering myself up like a star spangled martyr. I want a lot of things that aren't possible." Something to fight. To go home. To get everyone they lost back. To just be done. "I also want to take every bit of focus I've got and to put it on someone else in a way that is good for everybody. Hurting you until you drop through the metaphorical floor counts. I'm not going to put another motivator on it because you can't wrap your head around the idea that you can make somebody bleed and have it be about something besides venting anger."

Edited 2024-11-01 18:12 (UTC)

It's almost like he can feel the sparks fly with the way their methods of communication keep breaking down so spectacularly. Clint gives him a hardened glare, building up a sharp retort--

--and then lets it go, flopping back along the excuse for a bed with a long exhale. He rubs at his eyes.

"Imagine I made some joke about how kinky that sounds," he says tiredly with a wave of his hand.

Still better than Steve trying to communicate with Tony - though maybe he and Clint would do better if they stopped talking and started writing each other letters.

He quirks a faint smile. "Pretty sure that's less sounding kinky than it actually kinky." He sounds apologetic around that one, though. "I can get out of your hair, but I can't do it for about 24 hours." And he doesn't really... want to get out of Clint's hair, communication breakdown or not.

"Well, hey, if making me bleed gets you off, let me know before we get into a beat down drag out, yeah?" Easier to make light than to really dig deep into anything else.

He lets out another huff at the dingy ceiling before sitting back up to reach for a notebook, this time under the pillow. He flips it open, and from the right angle Steve might be able to make out what looks to be a simple layout of the immediate area. He's adding to it, jotting some notes along the way. "Any particular reason why you're glued to my side for that long?" As opposed to two or three days, or even indefinitely.

"Unless you get off on it, I'm not going to be," Steve says, tone dry and almost amused but only in the most self-depreciating sense.

Steve does look to follow Clint's motion and doesn't look away from the notebook. The layout strikes him and he doesn't need more than a glance to know what Clint's doing with it, or to have it stick in his head.

"24's the minimum. I didn't really make arrangements for being here. Wasn't sure I'd actually find you, and definitely didn't know how it would go if it did. Wasting resources on treating it like a real vacation didn't make sense. Figured I'd give it a solid day and then decide and work something out or just get out."

Edited 2024-11-01 19:10 (UTC)

Clint lets it drop without further comment. Lest either one of them learn a little more than they bargained for. He marks down light sources, any external cameras he noticed. Hums absently at Steve's explanation. "S'pose you could go jetsetting around the world with me, taking out the garbage left of humanity until the work's done."

He harbors no illusions that that's how it would actually go.

"I dunno. Could be fun for a while." At least it'd be motion, and they're back to that oppressive thing. "Probably an offer better suited to Nat, though. She could use getting out of that place for a while." And Clint trusts her, and she's worried.

"I don't want her to ruin a good thing, y'know? She's come a long way." And so long as she keeps tabs from a far distance, apparently that's enough. "Figure if she wanted in on what I get up to, she'd show up."

There's that unspoken worry. Because she would know beyond anyone else left how much this kills him and how much this is his way of trying to work through having a whole life ripped out from under him.

"Thanks for not doing something really stupid, like asking if I'm okay."

He shakes his head slightly, not negating or arguing the thanks so much as dismissing it as necessary. It's slight, mild, and conveys (Steve fucking hopes) a tone of 'of course'.

Everyone lost a lot.

What Clint lost is... different than the rest of them. Losing your entire family? Even waking up after the ice and everyone being gone just isn't the same thing. It sure as hell isn't a wife and your kids.

"I don't know how she's doing it, much less how she just keeps doing it. She's not only not going back she somehow keeps... getting better." Peanut butter sandwiches and late nights.

"She might say it's the Russian in her, but it's the same thing that drove her to get out of the bad situation she was in way back when. She's always been good at evolving, and having people around her who give a damn and have her back? That took a while for her to get used to, to rely on." They've switched places, in a way. "Might start missing you with you babysitting me."

There is some sort of progress being made here, maybe, in as much as Steve doesn't get frustrated or upset or dig in too hard at the word 'babysitting'.

"I don't intend to stay here all that long. I was being serious when I was talking about bouncing back and forth. She's worried about you, too, but there's only so long I want her left that close to alone."

"She's a big girl who can handle herself. She doesn't need babysat, either." He glances up from his mapping. "I'm not the only one who didn't stick around when the dust started settling, huh?"

He smiles faintly and shakes his head just a little. "I'm not babysitting anyone; she's my friend."

He keeps watching Clint with his map, but doing it casually and not constantly. That thing is detailed, useful, and impressively good work. Given Ronin's efficiency, that's not a surprise.

Twitches an eyebrow at 'dust settling', though. "You're not the only one by a long shot. One way or another people are finding ways to keep moving."

It's fine if Steve watches. It's fine because now he's here and doesn't seem to outwardly disapprove of what Clint gets up to these days. He still has the thought that by the time he puts this plan into action, the cops will already be swarming the place, or someone else will have taken care of business in a less brutal way, but if that happens, it happens.

"And even when you're moving, it feels like standing still," he muses. He can hardly blame anyone for being stuck in the moment. Frozen in time. Steve of all people would know what that's like.

Steve doesn't love what feels like excessive brutality. He doesn't have resources to make a less brutal plan and his desire to burn whatever fragile bridge still exists with Clint by deliberately getting in his way.

He sure as hell isn't getting the police involved. In anything. Ever. That bridge is long gone for Steve.

"Movement without purpose isn't really movement." Which means, yeah. He's not using the word stuck, but that's because he... actively doesn't want to go that far with admissions. Somehow it's the place things get too revealing for him. He nods at the notebook. "You have a timeline on that?" Are you waiting on him to leave or just carrying on? He doesn't, currently, care which. It's information seeking and not with a plan of stopping Clint.

Clint peers at Steve without lifting his head. Calculating. In case he decides Steve is going to actively do something with that information. Maybe he shouldn't throw suspicion at an ally. A friend. Who has not once raised a figurative or literal hand to stop him, just as he'd said.

He closes the book. "Yeah." In another life, it'd be pettiness to make Steve ask specifically. This is more calculated, seeing how interested he is in the specifics. Information gathering, he's gotten that much.

With a few seconds more of a stare, he tosses the notebook aside. Okay. Fine. Maybe give Steve a little slack. "Shipment coming in day after tomorrow. Lotta boots on the ground, moving parts. Means there's some downtime." With a little raise of his brows. "If you did want to hit the beach."

In another life, Steve wouldn't have waited this long to ask a lot more than one question, and he would have trusted Clint to... trust him enough to answer it. In this life (and world), he's just glad he got an answer at all.

He hopes he doesn't have to get directly involved If he does, it's going to be because there's someone truly uninvolved in the way or Clint's in trouble. It'll destroy whatever limited amount of trust Clint's willing to give him now. Not that he wouldn't like to participate on some level, and doesn't disapprove on a completely different, but....

They are the people they are, now, and this is the life and world they're stuck with.

He glances out a window at mention of the beach, without outwardly acknowledging the timing. "I wasn't entirely bullshitting about that one. I'll probably wait for it to be late enough for some more people to clear out, or get up early. I don't think there's much chance of anyone recognizing me here," with even minimal attempt to blend in and a hat, "but I don't wanna push it too hard."

"Ronin works alone." Easier in a lot of ways to keep the monster he's grown into a separate being. Steve didn't bring it up, but there's a timetable to know, and now he knows it. "You want to get added to the mix, that's a big ask." Steve hasn't asked for it, has even suggested he'll sit here the whole time if that's the stipulation. But obviously Steve wants to be doing. Wants to move. "Sides, you don't even have a new look to cover up. But if you really do want to just hang out just to make sure I come out of this alive...dunno, not much space here for two. Don't have a pull-out. Could get a motel, or I could be nice and let you have the bed."

"The only involved I've got any intention of getting is asking where your medical kit is, if you come back bleeding." That's honest enough, anyway. "You don't need an extra element you didn't account for in your plan. It's just going to make it more dangerous for everybody."

That said he will likely position his ass somewhere close enough to monitor from out of the way. Intended involvement is not the same as 'willing to become involved'.

And - "I'll sleep on the couch. I just barely got used to sleeping in a bed before everything went to hell, anyway. Kept winding up on the floor because I felt like my mattress was trying to swallow me."

"Bathroom. Won't be needing it, but always just in case." That's a little haughty of him, he knows. And it has been historically untrue. He's hoping not to make a liar out of himself this time around, at least.

He softly snorts. "I don't think you can even fit on the couch. Take the damn bed; it isn't like it's much better than sleeping on the floor." That could be some of his good old midwestern sensibilities poking through.

"I'm gonna go ahead and assume that's commentary on your couch. Otherwise, I might have to get offended," He is not, in any way, offended. He might even be, in that moment, pretty close to laughing. "I'm not that big, and I bend."

He hopes Clint doesn't need that kit. Steve doesn't buy that, though. Not with the shift in method, brutality level, and chosen weapon. He will be checking that kit to get familiar with it.

"I won't fight you too hard on the point." Not worth it. Especially when Clint's trying to convince him to take the bed like a polite host, rather than make Steve go home.

"You do bend." He's seen Steve more times than can be counted in action. He's big but athletic. Thor's bigger and even bulkier, doesn't bend as well because he doesn't need to, but Steve's like a dancer, graceful and controlled. "You really wanna fold yourself in half to fit on the couch, that's your call."

It's definitely not a point to put too much effort into fighting. But as Clint unfolds himself from the bed, cleaning up, he has to wonder what topic will be one to fight tooth and nail about. Besides staying, he supposes. "Gonna save up some fight for when it's needed?"

Steve quirks a faint, wryly self-aware smile. He stays down on the floor rather than getting up to help, though he bends up the leg he'd had stretched out so it's not in Clint's way. He'd rather get up, sure, but the space isn't big enough for it and it's just going to emphasis him being inside a space that is, even temporarily, Clint's.

"I can think of half a dozen ways you can shake me if you decide that's a fight worth having." Clint, even as Hawkeye had a kind of brutal efficiency and hell of a brain. Now? Steve only knows results, but he doesn't doubt there's more of all of that. Especially the brutality. "You can probably think of twice that. I'm not gonna dig my heels in on much except being here. And probably on cleaning you up if you come back bloody enough to be a problem."

So, yeah. Saving it for when it's needed. Albeit digging his heels in, even on the small stuff.

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