IC CONTACT.

[aimlessness]

CLINT BARTON.
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[widowing]

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?

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[aimlessness]

[ 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?

ACTION →

[widowing]

[ 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. ]