aimlessness | IC CONTACT.

are you out yet?

yes.
come here.

[ she doesn't even bother sending a reply to let him know she's on her way, just heads over. it's about fifteen minutes before she announces her arrival with her signature knock at his door. ]

[ the door swings open promptly, because of course she was on her way. clint knows how she operates. ]

Natasha.

[ well shit, what now. ]

[ she has no idea either, but even if he ends up asking her to leave five minutes later, she needed to see him, the real him, not one manipulated by either of their nightmares. she needed to see if he was all right. ]

Clint.

[ she looks past him, into his room, a silent can i come in and an attempt to see how he's been faring since waking. ]

[ he steps aside in one smooth motion. it's a silent invitation, a much better one than the last time she came to visit.

the game changed since then. they've got...well, there are other things to worry about than what she isn't telling him. ]

[ he steps aside in one second and she steps through the next, turning to face him with her arms crossed over her middle. he looks exhausted, she can't imagine she looks any better, and she feels worse. ]

I think you've been officially welcomed aboard. [ it's a sort of joke, but her voice is flat and rasping and it's pretty obvious she doesn't find any part of this funny. ]

[ for a long moment he doesn't say anything, just rubs a hand over his face. he wants to apologize, but for what exactly...

well, it's hard to say. but it's useless to try, so he doesn't. ]

I would've preferred a fruit basket.

[ she doesn't apologize either, although the urge is there and she's not quite sure why, since this was nothing either of them could help. so instead she's silent as she watches him, fighting back the desire to rub at her eyes and forehead. her hands go to her neck instead. ]

At least it wasn't an epidemic. [ like last time, she thinks, but she doesn't want to bring up the last time because he can't remember it. ]

Edited 2012-10-08 07:46 (UTC)

[ at his sides, clint's hands ball into fists. he wants to reach for her, but clint knows better than that. instead he sits down on his bed, rubs his palms together with a sigh. ]

I think I would have preferred an epedemic.

It wasn't much better.

[ she waits a moment, then comes to sit beside him, close enough so that they're just barely touching. her own hands are clasped together, fingers intertwined and locked for lack of anything better to do with them. ]

How long've you been awake?

[ there's a breath of laughter. of course not. but at least an illness is a physical thing. mental, well. he doesn't like that his mental incapabilities have been displayed for all to see. ]

Long enough.

[ she's close enough that he can feel her. he shifts, just enough to close the gap, hip pressed against her hip. ]

What about you? You just wake up?

[ that's something she can understand, too. the only real comfort with that is that theirs was hardly the only one on display, but that doesn't do much to make it feel better that everyone had been able to, to a certain degree, see inside your head.

his shifting closer makes her feel a little more at ease, a little more real, and she sighs, unclasping her hands and bringing them up to rub at her eyes. ]

A little while ago, yeah. It took a while to separate things.

[ reality from nightmares, the horrors of her brain from the horrors of the ship. she doesn't elaborate, she thinks he'll know what she means. ]

IC CONTACT.

TEXT → | set really soon after the silent hill business idk

TEXT → | shoves timelines aside

ACTION → | screw 'em!

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