So what we've got here is a bit of Clint's perspective on being reunited with Arlie. It's a lot of just...cute. And also, we're getting some clues about what Clint's going to be like as a brother to Arlie now that they're both a bit more grown up and have finally found each other again. There's still some issues for the both of them (they had a pretty bad past- especially Clint, so it'd be weird if they didn't) but they've got each other now so hopefully they'll continue to heal. We'll see.
Please review and thanks for reading!
May 4th, 2005 (Clint)
Is there a better person than my sister?
I don't think so.
She heard the whole story without a peep except for a gasp of shock and outrage when I told her about Barney, and then hugged me like she could fix everything that had gone wrong, even bring back our parents, if she just squeezed me tight enough.
I do not deserve this.
But I have it anyway and this is my sister. This is my baby sister. It's Arlie and she's with me again and she still loves me even after everything I've told her and she wants me with her if the grip she's got on me is anything to go by.
And she told me she missed me and she's sorry.
Oh, god, Arlie, I'm sorry- I should've found you before.
Before what I'm not actually sure, but if I had found her before...whatever, I'm sure we'd have been fine. It would have been better. And Arlie wouldn't have to feel sorry and she wouldn't have had to miss me for about fifteen years.
God- I'm a terrible brother.
But she still loves me and now she's insisting that she feed me and demanding to know when's the last time I ate and if SHIELD even feeds me proper food or if it's just "some nutrient-enriched crap that has about as much soul as a store-bought cookie." She doesn't even wait for me to answer and is suddenly cooking and still wiping away a few tears now and then.
God- I'm the luckiest son of a bitch ever.
When did she grow up?
I missed it. I missed it all.
I suddenly realize that I know nothing about my own sister. I mean, I know she's a spitfire, and stubborn as a mule, and smarter than she lets herself think, and terrible with people she doesn't know, and crazy to boot. I know she works at a computer company based on how Phil found her for me. I know she went to a college and graduated top of her class (again- thank you, Phil). But I have no idea if she played any sports and won any trophies, what her first school dance was like, if she even went to prom, if she's dating anyone (and let's not buy a ticket on that particular train of thought). I missed out on my sister growing up into this amazing girl who is currently shoving a plate of pasta in my hands and running her mouth a mile a minute as she lectures me on what kind of food I should be eating because "Don't just eat healthy crap- eat food with soul."
I look around the room. I'm trained for this: I can find out who my sister is now by looking.
There's some CDs by a very nice quality player that isn't hooked up to the radio at all and they're mostly stuff like Queen and a lot of Heart with some Zeppelin thrown in.
She always was a girl after my own heart.
There's some dishes in the drain board, but they're only enough for one person so she isn't living with anyone (cue: breath of relief) and her kitchen is practically bursting with food and ingredients. There's also a bar of dark chocolate on the counter in easy reach for a snack.
Dark chocolate- ok. Keep that in mind for birthdays, Christmas, and apologies.
She's got some rugs on the floor and the living room is really just a couch and one chair with perfect angle to watch the TV. More signs of living on her own.
It's all clean though- and this from the girl who couldn't be bothered to brush her teeth before bed.
She has a desk shoved to one side, angled so she can look out of the window when she sits there. It's filled with technology that I can't identify and a laptop that's currently off.
She's a techie. Phil said she graduated top of her class. I always told her she was smart.
I decide to stop looking and just ask her. I take some pasta onto my fork and watch as she sits down next to me with her own plate before asking.
"What about you?" I wait quietly as she shifts a bit in her seat- I am very familiar with pasts you don't want to talk about and I know that my sister will tell me what she can in her own time. I'm patient, though- I can sit on a roof waiting for a target for untold hours. I can certainly wait for my sister to be comfortable enough to tell me all the years I missed.
"Well, I bounced around a lot with the foster homes," she begins and I eat my pasta and absorb every single one of her words- they are memories I missed, memories I lost, memories I have no right to but she's giving them to me anyway.
God- I'm the luckiest son of a bitch ever.
It's now about six in the morning and we've been talking nonstop since about six last night (I had wanted to catch her after work).
"Ok- I'll admit, that was probably the best pasta I've ever tasted. What was in that sauce?"
"Secret recipe that I'm not telling you so you're forced to come back here whenever you want to eat it. I'm crafty that way." She gives me a sunny smile and it's like being forgiven- more than that, freed.
"I can handle that."
"Now I want to know more about this Phil guy- he's the one who recruited you, you said?"
"Yeah- and did it by kicking my ass up and down an alley."
She smirked at me, "Clearly you're not as skilled as you think."
I scoff and hold a hand to my chest, playing at being offended, "I am very skilled. I could take you one hand behind my back!"
"Well a midget with a limp could probably take me with one hand behind his back. I'm not that tough."
"You know to be careful though, right?" I'm suddenly worried- I know exactly what lurks in the shadows and I do not want my sister defenseless towards it.
"I mean, I exercise common sense, yeah. Don't go into back alleys," she sends a pointed look towards me, "Wear your purse across your shoulder so it's not so easy to snatch, use the buddy system, and" she's teasing me now, "Of course, look both ways before you cross the street and don't go unless you're accompanied by an adult."
"You have pepper spray or anything?"
"I think I've got some somewhere."
"Arlie…" I sigh, "That's it- I'm buying you some of that industrial strength stuff that they use on bears and you're going to carry it with you- please?"
"Fine fine fine I promise, but I hope you realize you're paranoid."
"I'll take paranoid and you safe than lazy and you in danger."
"Well- what am I supposed to say to that, really? Now you've guilted me into doing it."
"If I thought I could get away with hiring a body guard I'd do it."
"I have no doubt. But the only thing I've got worth stealing is my secret sauce recipe, Clint."
"Still- I don't want to sound sexist or anything, but it's pretty dangerous for girls out there. Especially ones who don't know how to defend themselves."
"I figure just go for the place that hurts- can't go wrong with that."
"No- good policy, but it might not be enough."
"You're going to go prematurely grey."
"Probably. You're trouble, you know that?"
"Sure, bird brain."
"Oh- I'm hurt. Is that the best you can come up with?"
"Hey- if the shoe fits…now what are you doing?"
"Checking what you've got in here. You like spinach?"
"Yes!"
"Glad to see you eat your vegetables at least."
"You're impossible."
"So they tell me. I made Agent in record time, you know."
"Really- now are you gonna scare all the new kids so they don't break your record?"
"You kidding me? I'm going to scare them for fun- keeping my record's just a bonus."
"You hungry again? I feel like an omelet."
"Oh, Arlie, you need to understand one thing- I'm always hungry."
My sister laughed at me and went to cook us up some breakfast. I noticed that she used three eggs for my omelet, but didn't say anything. It gave me a nice, warm feeling.
"So do you like this SHIELD place? I mean- I know you feel like it'll help you make up for things, but do you like it?"
"Well, I like Phil. Phil's a good guy. I'm pretty sure if he could, he'd've been a superhero. One of those ones without any powers but who fight anyways. You know- he loves Captain America."
"Really? I remember having to do a project on him in school during the WWII unit. He was pretty cool, I guess."
"Yeah, but Phil's like, obsessed, for a while now I've been hunting for these vintage trading cards to give him for Christmas and stuff. He's over the moon about them."
"I forget- did they ever find out what happened to him?"
"Nah- plane crashed and they never even found that. They looked though."
Arlie giggled at me.
"What?"
"Well, Phil seems to be rubbing off on you- look at you, all knowledgeable on the history of the Star Spangled Man with a Plan."
"Look at you remembering that nickname."
"One kid for his presentation played the song in the background for the whole five minutes he was talking. It was stuck in my head for days afterwards."
"But, anyways, back to the point, SHIELD isn't necessarily perfect, but I think they want to do good. Fury's a bit…odd. But I can deal with him. Still- I don't want anyone at SHIELD to know about you. There's a lot of nasty people out there who might come after you if they get their hands on the wrong information."
"Got it- don't call you while you're at work."
"Arlie, I'm being serious,"
"No, you're being paranoid again, but I'll play along. On one condition."
"What's that?"
"I get to meet Phil. You obviously trust him, so I do. He won't tell anyone about me if you don't want him to and I want to meet this guy."
"You drive a hard bargain: something I was planning on doing anyways, for your cooperation. Deal."
"Good, now shut up. I'm sleepy and you're probably tired too. There's an extra room just across from the bathroom. You can crash there and you are not allowed to leave this apartment until you say goodbye. Understood, Agent?"
"Yes ma'am." I give her a goofy salute and watch her head off to bed.
This might have just been the best day of my life. Or- two days. Whatever. I need some sleep.