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Challenges listed at the bottom.
Word Count: 1184
Midlife Crisis
"He's going to fall and break his neck," Tony muttered, shaking his head.
"We're going to have to hope that his natural skill is enough to keep him up there," Steve replied, though he was definitely worried.
They watched Clint making his way up the tree, branch to branch, wobbling as he went. The higher he got, the more unstable he looked.
"JARVIS, send me a suit," Tony said under his breath.
Steve glanced his way. "You're really that worried?"
"Do you have any idea how much rum he's had today?" Tony asked, eyebrows raised slightly. "I don't know what the hell's going on with him at the moment, but it's like he has a death wish or something."
"You think he's suicidal?" Steve asked, frown deepening.
"No, just… reckless," Tony offered, not sure what to say. He genuinely didn't think that Clint was suicidal, but perhaps, unactively so. He looked at Nat, who was watching from closer to the tree, and could see the concern in her stance.
While she wouldn't let them see her being openly worried, Tony knew her well enough now to know how to spot it.
Tony's suit arrived, and he stepped into it. "I'm gonna go get him. Bloody idiot."
As Tony reached the tree, Clint caught sight of him and grinned toothily before he jumped, away from the tree, towards Tony.
Cursing, Tony barely caught him.
"Wooo! Air Iron Man!" Clint hollered, as Tony lowered him to the ground. "Tones, take me for a fly?"
"Maybe when you're sober and won't puke all over me," Tony replied quietly. He flipped the face of the suit and looked at Clint. "Go to bed."
"You're not—"
"Clint," Tony snapped, a ferocious look in his eyes. Clint's eyes widened, as did Natasha's who'd moved closer. Tony didn't snap at the team these days, not ever. "Go to fucking bed."
Flipping the faceplate up, Tony took a few steps back and then took off into the air. Stupid fucking teammates, making him care and then doing stupid shit.
Asshole.
…
"I never plan for anything. I live in the moment," Clint retorted to Steve, who was doing his level best to find out what was going on with him without sounding like a counselor. "Jeez, Cap, I wasn't trying to hurt myself or anything. Is this an intervention?"
"Do you need one?" Steve asked, frowning.
"No!"
"Then maybe, and I'll give you a few days to think about this, you'll be able to tell me why you'd get hopelessly shitfaced in front of our recovering alcoholic, and then proceed to put yourself at risk right in front of him, when you know the struggles he's had about caring, and trying not to care too much."
Steve stomped out of the kitchen, leaving Clint alone, leaning on the breakfast bar, staring at nothing.
…
"What are you doing?" Clint asked, when he got within hearing distance. Tony was staring up at the tree Clint had climbed only a few days ago. He hadn't seen Tony since then.
"Putting a rope up this tree," Tony said, nodding to the coiled rope at his feet. "I'm just thinking about the most secure way to attach it.
"Is this because of me?"
"Nope. It's because of some other archer that I know is a dick and I don't want him to die playing stupid bullshit games."
"Tony—"
"I don't want to talk about it," Tony muttered. The suit—that had been standing sentry—opened for him, and he got inside, picking up one end of the rope as he rose to the highest point of the tree.
Clint watched him from the ground up, wondering just how bad he'd fucked up.
…
"You can't just keep ignoring him," Steve said, sitting down on the grass beside Tony. It was a sunny day, and Tony had been making more of an effort to enjoy the outdoors, so he'd brought his tablet and a blanket out onto the grounds.
"Ignoring who?" Tony asked, lifting his sunglasses to look at Steve.
Steve rolled his eyes. "Clint. He's been watching you with a kicked puppy expression for like, a week."
"I don't know what I'm supposed to say to him," Tony admitted, shrugging. "Like, the way he was acting, I just… I don't know, Steve. This is why I avoid people, you know?"
"You two were—"
"I know what we were. Guess that wasn't so important to him, huh?"
Steve sighed. "You should speak to him."
…
"Tony!"
"It got the job done didn't it?"
Steve opened his mouth and then closed it, the fight leaving him. "That was brave. Stupid, but brave."
"I was lucky," Tony admitted, looking back over his shoulder at the collapsed building he'd just flown through, mid collapse, to save a stranded civilian.
Steve nodded. "Are you hurt?"
"I think I'm good," Tony replied. "Let's get clean up over with, yeah?"
…
Clint watched Tony, trying not to get caught doing it, because Natasha had been bugging him about talking to the genius for days. It wasn't that Clint didn't want to, he was just… indecisive.
He couldn't work out how to tell Tony that his mini-break down was about something so… utterly stupid.
Eventually, Clint got up and walked into the living room, where Tony was sprawled on the sofa. Without asking, he lifted Tony's legs and slipped beneath them, massaging Tony's calves.
"Ready to tell me what's going on with you?" Tony asked, tucking a cyan cushion behind his head so it was propped enough to look at Clint.
Clint wrinkled his nose, but he noticed the disappointment in Tony's eyes at the movement. "I… I guess I realised I'm turning forty."
Tony blinked. "This was all… a midlife crisis?"
Clint cringed.
"Hey, no," Tony said. "If it made you feel a certain kind of way then it's valid. You just… should maybe get some better coping methods, you know?"
"I'm sorry about the drinking," Clint said.
"I wasn't bothered by that," Tony replied softly. "I was bothered by the way you were being so careless with your life."
"Tones… we're Avengers."
"But that's for a reason," Tony stressed. "So we do all that we can to save people, and sure, that's dangerous, but there's a difference between that and needlessly doing stupid shit and scaring the bejezus out of me."
"I know. I'll be better, I promise," Clint replied, squeezing Tony's ankle.
Tony stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. "Kay."
…
"He's totally my minion," Tony corrected Pepper as they walked into the kitchen.
"Who's your minion?" Clint asked, handing Tony a coffee. "Do you want coffee, Pepper?"
"Okay, I stand corrected," Pepper said, giggling. She nodded to Clint, and then perched on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, kicking her fuchsia shoes off.
"You're my minion," Tony said, grinning at Clint. "And I need you to go to a Gala with me tonight."
Clint paused. "As your date?"
Tony smiled, clearly satisfied that Clint had understood the intent behind the question. "Yeah, Clint. As my date."
Written For:
Showtime: 10. Rum
Elizabeth's Empire: 8. "I never plan for anything. I live in the moment."
Lizzy's Loft: 2. Trying to not get caught
Angel's Archive: 7. Luck
Scamander's Case: 25. Satisfied
Film Festival: 10. Climbing a tree
Lyric Alley: 14. Do all that you can
Forecast: 4. "That was brave. Stupid, but brave."
Monster Petting Zoo: Gary the Ghoul, 1. Cyan
Murder Mystery: Weapon 3. Rope
Hot Air Balloons: 9. Sunny
Trick Or Treating: House 1: 6. Fruit: Fuchsia
Apple Bobbing: Apple 10. Indecisive
Pop Figures: Movies, 125: Hula Minion: Minion
Stickers: Norwegian Ridgeback: Ferocious