Chapter Three: Stuff
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"It looks like a hardware store puked in here," was the first thing Clint had to offer as Tony led him inside his apartment. It wasn't a wholly inaccurate assessment: there were various tools and pieces of electronics on every available surface - including the floor. Despite appearances, however, everything did, in fact, have a designated place.
… Tony may have gone a little overboard with collecting scraps and building materials.
The brunet hefted a box from one end of the sofa to the coffee table and motioned for Clint to take a seat. Clint seemed to deliberate whether he'd rather stand before his sore leg made his mind up for him. He sat.
"Would you like anything to drink?" Tony asked before going for the first aid kit he kept under the sink.
"Water's fine," Clint replied, voice a bit more mumbly as he sank into the couch. A person had little choice but to relax when sitting on it. It was probably the ugliest piece of furniture to be found, but it was comfortable as hell. Tony himself had accidentally drifted off while sitting on it on multiple occasions.
"No problem," Tony said.
Clint offered a thumb's up in response, quickly succumbing to the comforting power of the sofa. It was only the second time the man had used his hands for any sort of communication despite his clear understanding and appreciation for the sign Tony had been using since the man mentioned his deafness. Tony wondered at the possible reasons behind this. Was it simply that the man was tired after whatever had led to him ending up in the dumpster? Or perhaps he was more accustomed to speaking to people who didn't know sign? His speech was quite good, only some of his words a bit slurry. He'd probably lost his hearing when he was older or underwent speech therapy or the like to learn to speak aloud clearly. Most likely, it had been both.
Not that it was any of Tony's business. He certainly wasn't about to ask.
Fishing an unopened bottle of water out of the fridge, Tony grabbed the first aid kit and returned to his guest. Clint had taken his remaining hearing aid from his ear and was turning it about in his hands. He looked up as Tony set the water and kit down on the coffee table.
"Hey, uh, do you think you might have any spare batteries that'd fit this lying around? Or a way to charge it?" he asked. "Would kinda like to have at least one of my ears working."
"I'll see what I can do," Tony replied, then tensed as the man held the device out to him.
Which was stupid. Tony knew it was stupid. Obviously, he was going to need the hearing aid if he were to replace the battery or charge it or whatever other solution might come to him. This wasn't some test or mind game wherein he would get punished no matter what he did. Normal people accepted things from others all the time. If he wanted to live in the real world, he-
Tony took a step back, hands coming together in front of him. His right thumb swept across his left palm, the faded, barely perceptible scar there seeming to scrape the ridges of his fingerprint like the edge of a blade.
"What are you waiting for? I said take it."
The boy glanced warily at the red hot iron the woman held out to him with a pair of tongs before peeking back up on her face. Her expression was hard and unyielding. She was waiting. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out with his left hand to grab hold of it. He dropped it almost as soon as he had taken it, crying out in pain.
"Stupid boy," the handler sneered. "What did you do that for?"
"You said-"
"That's right. Because I said so. You're a tool, an asset. You do as you're told when you are told. Even when you know it will hurt. You don't make choices. Hydra does that for you."
"Whoa - hey! Easy ," another voice cut in, tone somewhere between urgent and soothing. "Just breathe, already."
Tony sucked in a breath of air, blinking rapidly until the blur of yellow and violet in front of him resolved into Clint. The other man had levered himself up from the sofa but hadn't moved any closer. He'd continued talking even as Tony struggled to get a hold of himself.
"You're alright. It's fine," he was saying. "You don't have to take it from me. I'll set it down on the table, see?" Clint moved carefully, telegraphing his movements as he held up the hearing aid before setting it down on the coffee table. "It's okay, man. All you needed to do was tell me you don't like being handed things. It's not a problem. Didn't mean to spook you."
"Sorry," Tony rasped. He tried to pull his hands apart so he could sign. It was only polite - Clint was speaking his language, after all. He couldn't quite manage it, though. "I just… It's stupid." So stupid. Not there, anymore. For god's sake, stop shaking and get a hold of yourself, Anthony!
"Hey, look at me," Clint told him, causing Tony's gaze to snap to his. "Nothing that makes a person react like that is stupid. Okay? We've all got our stuff."
"Right. Yeah," he mumbled, still calming his breathing. He finally separated his hands, raising them to sign again as he continued speaking, movements jerky. "Are you good here? I mean, do you need - want any help? Patching up?" Tony indicated the first aid kit.
Clint shook his head, carefully sitting back down on the couch. "Nah, I'm good. A bit accident-prone, so I know my way around a medkit." He shot him a brief smile. "Thanks, Tony."
"Yeah, and uh, thank you. For - you know. Just, thank you," said Tony, then gestured towards the far end of the room. "I'll be over there. Doing… stuff. If you need anything." The blond nodded his understanding and Tony put words to action.
He settled in at the computer desk setup in the corner. Calling it a desk was a bit of a misnomer, as was referring to his computer as simply a computer . Three different computer towers had been disemboweled and assembled together. Five monitors were arranged atop a desk and a table Tony had pulled in close for that purpose. Two keyboards and three computer mice took up the space in the middle, a fax machine and a printer balanced on the far left edge of the desk against the wall while more specialized (and not strictly legal) equipment took up the rest of the table on the right.
Sitting down in the beat up chair, Tony booted up the system and logged in. He checked his messages first, shooting off a few emails and letting his contact know he hadn't gotten the chance to scope out the tech company yet. That done, he focused in on the task of hacking his way into the Stark Industries computer network.
It was a challenge, as was often the case. The security had been upgraded again, though not by Stark himself, judging by the coding. Tony wondered whether the man had even been consulted on the updates or if he just wasn't personally invested in the cyber-security of his own company. Whichever the case, Tony soon lost himself to the task.
Some time passed, but he eventually made his way past the last firewall to poke around at the R&D project files. It was just more of the same old thing. There were new upgrades for the Stark rifle and handguns, a couple new body armors, and yet another killing device that would no-doubt end up in the wrong hands within a year of being completed.
Did Stark know what happened with his weapons? Did he care?
That branch of his curiosity sated, Tony took a break to check in on his guest and see about getting the stupid hearing aid he'd freaked out over working. Even more time than he thought must have passed because Clint had fallen asleep. A butterfly bandage held together the edges of his split lip whereas a bright blue bandaid with green cartoon characters on it covered a small cut at the edge of his blackened eye. There were several more bandages dotting his left arm, though it seemed he'd given up on patching the individual cuts and scrapes on the other side in favor of wrapping gauze around the entire forearm.
He was practically cuddling his bow in his sleep. It made Tony smile.
Grabbing up the hearing aid, Tony left the blond to his rest, making a mental note to wake him soon. He'd devote the time leading up to that to finding a battery or charger for the device - and maybe improving it a bit. Shouldn't be too hard, right? Though, perhaps, he ought to leave that for another time. It was probably bad manners to experiment with the belongings of people you didn't technically know.
Replacement battery found, he had just started in on the more challenging task of trying to hack into Stark's personal data servers when a startled shout came from the other side of the room. Tony practically jumped from his seat, relaxing only marginally once he'd identified the cause of Clint's alarm.
"U, leave him alone!" he commanded sternly, making shooing gestures at the robot.
"Me leave him alone?" Clint squawked. "I was just sleeping!"
The mechanical arm gave several beeps, claw rotating this way and that curiously even as it backed away. Its arm drooped in apology, although its camera remained pointed at the visitor.
"No, the robot is named U," Tony explained to the man, signing along as he'd been doing. "I forgot he was at his charging station. He's just curious. I don't get many visitors."
"You have a robot?" Clint looked between Tony and said robot, looking like he didn't quite believe what was before his eyes. His gaze then swept around what he could see of the apartment from the couch before he muttered, "Of course you have a robot, just look at this place.
"Why is it called U?" he asked.
"Dummy was taken," Tony shrugged. "I kinda ripped his design off somebody else. Just to see if I could make it work, really." He hadn't even meant to make the robot. The idea had just gotten stuck in his head and before he knew it, he was putting the thing together.
Clint gave him a long look, then regarded a rather enthralled U for an equal stretch. "You built a robot just to see if you could," he reiterated.
"Yeah," Tony confirmed with a nod.
Another look before Clint declared, "I can't decide whether you've got too much time or not."
Tony smirked in amusement. "I find ways to keep busy." He walked over to where he'd left the man's hearing aid and carried it back to him. "Found a battery."
"Awesome. Thanks, dude."
"No problem. You hungry? I was thinking about ordering some pizza."
"Okay," Clint said seriously as he finished hooking his hearing aid into his ear, "now I really could kiss you."
Tony laughed. "Let me go find the number."
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To be continued...
