OK, guys- Poll is open so go vote! I've been getting some PMs and Reviews and so far I think most people want Bruce (which is lovely since that's kind of what I want) but please make your stance known and vote! (OR PM/Review- I'll just add it mentally to the poll)
There's really nothing from the movies here, it's just more of the usual suspects and their lives and times. Hope you enjoy.
Please read, review, vote on the poll, if you have an interludes request tell me, ect.
July 8th, 2008 (Arlie)
"I still don't see why you can't go with Tasha." I hate it when Fury does this. He sends my brother or Tasha off on missions solo. They're a perfect team- they watch each other's backs and I don't worry nearly as much when they're together as when they're apart.
Sometimes a dark corner of me feels that Fury does this just to provoke me.
But whatever else Fury is (bastard), he does care about his agency, and Clint and Tasha are his top agents. He won't let them get hurt if he can help it.
And, sometimes, it is really better for one of them to go without the other. Another person means another person to be spotted- sometimes Clint wouldn't be able to do anything to help Tasha's mission and vice versa.
I still don't like it.
"It's just a quick thing in Belarus, I'll be back before you know it," my brother comforts me as he packs his bag. I toss him a pair of socks once I realize he's only packing weapons and a toothbrush. What an idiot.
"You do realize you've jinxed yourself now you've said that. Something is going to go horribly wrong now. You've jinxed it, bird brain."
"Come on, munchkin, I was the one who spent time with circus people, I'm supposed to be the superstitious one. I didn't jinx anything."
I groan, "You're just making it worse now. Knock on wood or something!"
He knocks on the doorframe while rolling his eyes just to satisfy me. I still don't feel any better.
"I still wish you could have Tasha with you."
"She's got other things to do as well- it'll be fine."
I groan again and shove some tee shirts at my brother (who the hell taught him how to pack, anyways?), "You just keep making it worse when you say things like that!"
"Fine- it's all going to go horribly wrong and I will end up facing the wrong end of a gun. There, better now?"
"It's too late," I pout, "You've jinxed it too far."
"I don't think that's a thing."
"You've made it a thing."
"I'll see you in a few weeks, munchkin."
"Be careful, bird brain."
My brother kisses me on the cheek and leaves for Belarus after a hug.
I've got a sinking feeling. I don't want to lose my brother to some mission Fury sent him on.
I won't be able to handle that.
July 14th, 2008
"Arlie- Clint hasn't reported in."
This is not something I have ever wanted to hear. Phil telling it to me is heartbreaking, because he's just as upset as I am and Tasha's off the grid on some mission in no-one-will-tell-me-ville with no contact until she's back and Clint hasn't reported in.
"What do we do?"
"There's not really anything we can do. He could be fine. The equipment could have been broken, he could be in a situation where he feels reporting in would break his cover- he could be fine."
"Or he could be hurt somewhere and need help."
I don't say the alternative we're both desperately trying to ignore.
He could be dead.
July 21st, 2008
"We've got him."
Phil's voice, always a comforting sound, has never been so wonderful.
"How is he?"
"He's bad, Arlie, but we'll fix him."
"How bad?"
Phil sighs. He's trying to protect me- doesn't want me to know just how bad bad is.
I need to know.
"Phil- I need to know."
"He's got both legs, several fingers, and a couple toes broken. His fingernails on one hand have been pulled off. Massive concussion causing nausea, loss of consciousness periodically, and disorientation. One arm has been dislocated for a while. Cuts and scrapes and bruises everywhere. It's bad."
I'm not quite certain how to respond to that. I'm not sure I'm breathing properly. Phil's voice comes to me over the phone again.
"Arlie. Arlie. We're going to fix him."
I take a deep breath. Two. I concentrate on what I can control. What can I control?
"What can I do?"
"Good girl," from most people being called "good girl" would be patronizing, but Phil makes it into the nicest compliment anyone could give me. "He's going to need a lot of rest, once the Doctors are done with him I'll get you in here so he can be with you. That'll help calm him down when he wakes up. He's a bit disoriented right now. Bring some stuff with you- he'll be coming in and out of it while he heals."
"OK. OK. I can do that. What about Tasha?"
"She hasn't come back from her mission yet but we have every reason to believe it's been successful and she's on her way home. We'll be seeing her soon and she'll kick your brother's ass for getting hurt."
"Nah- she'll wait for him to heal first, then she'll kick him."
"True. Ok- I'm going to go talk with the Doctors now, I'll call you when I'm on my way to pick you up."
"I can drive,"
"Just let me pick you up, Arlie. OK?"
"Ok. I'll see you later."
"Yeah- I'll tell you if anything changes."
"Bye, Phil."
"Arlie? Don't be worried- you're brother's tough. Got a lot of conviction and that doesn't lie down easily."
"Thanks, Phil. See you soon."
"You got it."
July 25th, 2008
"You think he'll be more with it the next time he wakes up? He's been pretty out of it every other time."
"Well, the Doctors have been keeping him pretty dosed up, and you know he's a lightweight on meds."
"That is true, he was knocked out within five minutes of taking that sleeping pill you snuck him once, and that was a half dose."
"Yeah, I guess so. I just want him to wake up properly."
"We're right here with you, Arlie."
Suddenly the fourth occupant of the room lets out a soft groan, we all turn sharply to look at Clint, who scrunches his eyes and blinks them open blurrily. The heart rate monitor starts to climb as he doesn't immediately recognize his surroundings.
"Hey, bird brain, calm down. You're fine." I step into my brother's line of sight and he relaxes.
"Munchkin?"
"I'm right here, and so are Phil and Tasha. We're all safe and sound. You just had to go and get yourself all beat up. I told you you jinxed it, numbskull, but did you listen? No. Of course not. You know- just because you're the big brother doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two, too."
He's smirking at me- a sign he is definitely feeling better.
"Look- Tasha had an even tougher mission than you and she managed to come back in one piece with minimal bruising. I think she's officially taken your title as top Agent. I'm going to have a trophy made for her or something."
"No fair- I didn't have a trophy."
"I didn't have internal bleeding," Tasha comes to stand beside me where Clint could see her easily.
"Hey, Widow. I suppose this means you're going to kick my ass now?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm going to wait until your ass is healed so then I can at least pretend you're a bit of a challenge."
"Really feeling the love, guys. Phil- you got anything nice to say?"
"I know better than to side against those girls. They're scary apart- they're down right terrifying since you teamed them up."
"Damn- is anyone going to be nice to me?"
"Don't count on it, bird brain."
"Gee- no sympathy for the guy in a hospital bed."
"Not when the guy put himself there, no," says Tasha in her driest of voices. I add that to the list of things I want her to teach me.
"Phil- come on, help me. Isn't getting hurt enough to be put in the hospital enough punishment?"
"Actually, we figured you might be a bit of a masochist, so we were thinking this is a bit like a vacation for you."
Clint pouts, "I hate vacations."
"But think of all the food you get to eat now! We'll get take out from every Chinese place in New York and figure out who has the best Orange Chicken once and for all."
"I'm telling you, it's Southern Dragon's."
"And I'm telling you, I've had better- I just can't remember where I got it from."
"It was from Southern Dragon and you're just arguing to be obnoxious."
"I think you've gotten confused with that concussion," says Tasha, "about which Barton sibling it is that is the obnoxious one."
"Romanoff, you wound me."
"I'm surprised you can tell with how much pain medication you're on."
"I'm going to go back to sleep- and away from all this unpleasant company."
"You do that, Barton."
"And while you're out, I'll steal Phil's pen and draw on your face!"
My brother chuckles lightly and goes back to sleep. The three of us still awake take a collective sigh of relief and sit back down.
He's going to drive us all insane.
August 5th, 2008
"We've tried every single Chinese place in the phone book- admit it, Southern Dragon has the best Orange Chicken!"
"It's had the best one we've tried, but I'm telling you- I've had better!"
"Oh, god- no, you didn't, munchkin."
"Shut up, bird brain- the place must've closed down since or something."
"…"
"Ok, fine- Southern Dragon has the best Orange Chicken in New York City!"
"Finally!"
"But Tiger's Palace has better sesame pork."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me- get the phone book, we're ordering take out!"