The Nine Tailed Foxx
Chapter 11
((A/N: No, I haven't forgotten about my other stories. Just waiting on one muse to step back and let others have some time.
A wonderful thanks to my friend Lady Moonhawke, who is also my co-writer, co-conspirator, Idea tester, plot hole finder, monkey wrench thrower, and ghost editor.))
Bad Touch
First week of February, Avenger's Tower….
How the rest of the Avengers got wind of what he was planning so fast, Clint wasn't sure, but neither was he concerned. He just had hoped there would be a little bit of time to set up a routine to ensure a smooth transition of getting Johnny used to the rest of the Avengers popping in and out of the gym. Maybe even get him used to working with them. Once Johnny was officially with the unnamed Agency he would have to work with anyone assigned to the job with him.
The morning started out something like this…..
"Just make sure he doesn't break anything," Tony said in passing as he headed off to one of the labs to play. "Oh, don't break him either. I don't feel like dealing with Doom throwing a hissy fit…"
Clint just grunted as he made his way to the coffee maker. If he wasn't on assignment, never expect him to be functional and/or coherent before his first cup of coffee. By his second cup, he could hold a conversation. Hitting his third cup, he'd already polished off a bowl of cereal and was munching away on a power bar when Cap made his approach, still in his own workout clothes from the early morning run.
"Listen, Clint… do you really think it's a good idea? We don't really know anything about Johnny or his past beyond what's on those HYDRA files," Steve said, in Captain mode. He examined what the archer was wearing, concerned slightly on the fact his arms were exposed.
"Do you trust me?" Clint asked with a tight smile.
Steve frowned slightly. "Of course."
"Then trust that I know what I'm doing," Clint said as he finished off his coffee and put the cup in the sink as he walked out. He still had an hour at the least, before Johnny would show up. He planned on getting his own warmup out of the way. When the elevator doors opened, he came face to face with Nat. "Morning," he said in greeting.
Nat eyed him up and down, noting what he was wearing as well as his general attitude this morning. "Let me know if you want some company," she said in way of greeting. "Have you seen Steve this morning?" she asked as she stepped out of the elevator. "Oh, want me to have Bruce on standby?"
Clint jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "In the kitchen last I saw," he replied as he stepped into the now empty elevator. "Sure, if you want. I won't mind a second opinion, especially from you. Don't think Bruce will be needed but thanks." He touched the floor button, leaning back as the door closed and the elevator rose to the gym floor.
Nat joined Steve in the kitchen, gathering what she needed to make herself a smoothy. After a few minutes of silence, broken only by the sound of food being prepped. "Steve.. about last night…" Nat started.
Steve held up a hand. "No, I'm not reconsidering Natasha," he stated.
Nat rolled her eyes. "Would you just shut up and listen to me for a moment?"
A pan was put on the stove a little harder than necessary. "Alright, I'm listening."
Nat busied herself by throwing everything into the blender, before turning to face Steve. "I'm sorry about last night. I know how much you want to get Bucky back... I thought.. maybe if you couldn't get him back then you'd at least have a part of him." She hated apologizing, because it meant she was wrong about something, but she knew when to face up to her mistakes.
Steve sighed, shoulders slumping as he leaned against the counter. He couldn't stay mad at Nat. "It's not that I want to see Bucky's kid go to some Mr. and Mrs. Secret Agent and be raised as Baby Agent. It's just... Alexei may be Bucky's child genetically, but it's not like my buddy said 'look after my kid if something happens to me.' I can't believe he was given any choice about the creation of this child, and for all we know, has no knowledge of him. When, WHEN, we get Bucky back, do we hand Alexei over to him? Of course not. I can't see raising him, knowing what was done to my friend. I understand what you were going for, Natasha. It's just not for me."
Nat nodded, giving him a smile before she started the blender. "Oh, your bacon is burning," she said as she poured up her smooth.
"Shit," Steve muttered as he turned around to salvage what he could.
Down in the gym, an hour twenty minutes later…
Clint was near the top of the salmon ladder when FRIDAY announced Johnny's arrival in the gym's entrance area. Letting go with one hand, he gripped the edge of a lower slat, shifting his weight off the bar before dropping down to the ground. Angling himself, he watched as Johnny stood in the doorway. He was dressed in what looked to be yoga pants, a sleeveless t-shirt and had his hair pulled up into a ponytail. Placing the bar in its proper place, he stepped away from the ladder. "Good, I didn't have to come get you," he said as he grabbed a towel off a side bench to wipe.
Johnny nodded as he fiddled with the wrist wraps. "Alexei was a little fussy this morning. Didn't want to nap." He still hadn't crossed the threshold into the gym proper. Lifting one foot, he lightly tapped his bare toes against the ground before flexing it then switching to the other.
"Well, you going to just stand there or join me?" Clint asked as he draped the towel over his shoulders.
"You haven't given me permission yet."
Clint gave a subtle nod of approval. "What else were you taught?" he asked as he stepped forward, gesturing towards the change rooms and showers.
"Depends on the situation," Johnny shrugged slightly as he turned to follow the older man. "The Range Master is god above man when in the range, the Weapon Master is there for a reason. Clean up after yourself, including the blood on the mats, because it's not someone else's job to do so."
Snorting in amusement at the answer, Clint pointed out the men's side, advised against even thinking about peeking into the woman's side, then lead Johnny back, this time into the gym. "What is your normal routine?"
"Stretches, push ups, sit ups, crunches."
"Before that?"
"Climbing, running, some weights, tumbling, stamina, escrima when I can find a good training partner, whatever I come across that fits my style." Again Johnny shrugged. "Haven't had any real, instructed training in over four years."
Clint nodded, filing the information away. Over the next two hours, he walked Johnny through proper use of each of the approved machines, tested his capabilities while planning out a training regime that would push his limits and expand his skills. Of course, the rest of the populace of the Avenger Only levels made their appearance.
Nat was the first to appear, silently shadowing Clint, watching every move Johnny made and occasionally offering comments about how to improve this or that.
Johnny never even twitched, moving at an even pace through the reps. The only time he paused or stopped was when Clint instructed him to. He accepted her corrections the same as he accepted Clint's.
Bruce only stopped by long enough to collect Nat for lunch, nodding once and left a reminder for Clint not to overwork Johnny. Not unless he wanted a lecture about responsibility, etc.
Tony of course didn't even bother, that was what FRIDAY and the security cameras were for. All he did was turn on the sound system and start playing some of the cheesiest sports movie soundtracks ever made.
For his part, Johnny started making smart ass comments about said music. He even sang along with a few, earning himself some extra reps on the machines he was at when he did.
When Steve showed up, he had Sam with him. The pair watched from the sidelines, quietly making comments to each other. Steve caught Clint's eye and gestured to the weights, then to Sam and himself.
Clint didn't care if anyone else joined them in the gym, after all it was an evaluation of how well Johnny did, not himself. He was currently adjusting the weights on the bar, adding by increments of ten pounds. "Alright, one lift, hold to the count of ten then set it down," he instructed once more, noticing Johnny start to fidget. "I think we'll be done after this."
Johnny nodded from his position on the bench, waiting for the go ahead to start the lift. His eyes kept darting to where the other two men were. He sensed their movements easily enough with his gift, that wasn't the problem. For some reason any time Captain Rogers was around, he started to stress. He didn't know if it was a result of what Doom did to him or because of their first face to face meeting (which he really needed to apologize for his actions - but how the hell do you say 'sorry for groping you as I tried to shove my tongue down your throat' to an American Icon/Superhero?). Laying back, he slid into position. Hands wrapped around the bar, he readjusted them before lifting.
"How's that feel?" Clint asked, keeping an eye on the situation as his hands hovered over the bar, ready to catch it.
After a silent count to ten, Johnny returned the bar to its place. "Hm.. good for a mid point. A little lighter for an ending, heavier for a start…."
"Think you can handle a set of reps?" Clint asked as he noted Steve adjusting the weights on the bar Sam was going to use. He glanced down at Johnny then to the other side where the extra weights were stored.
"Yeah." Resetting his hands in place again, Johnny lifted the bar smoothly off of the rests. By the third lift, he was feeling the strain. It had been too long since he had this kind of workout. None of the last few jobs he pulled came even close to it. He twitched as something brushed against his mind. It wasn't unpleasant, just unsettling.
"Come on man," Sam spoke up suddenly. "Put a little more on the bar. I can handle it."
"Eh, I don't know," Steve hedged.
Sam grinned up at Steve as he put the bar back on the rests. "How am I gonna improve if I don't push the limits. And it's not like you aren't here to catch it if I screw up."
"Fine," Steve relented. "But no more than twenty. Once you prove to me you can handle that, then I'll add more." He turned to Clint, gesturing to the extra weights. "Can you hand me a couple of tens?" he asked.
"Yeah, sure. Hold on a moment," Clint replied. "Last one...and hold….." He looked away for just a second.
The sensation of getting dunked in ice while being slapped by nettles caused Johnny to shove the bar away as he scrambled off the bench. He was skittering across the floor in a crab walk, until he came rammed into another machine.
Both Steve and Clint grabbed for the bar. Steve was faster, snatching it mid-air before it could drop more than a fraction of an inch. "Whoa...easy…easy…."
Sam was on his feet, ready for action within moments. He looked at Steve, then to the kid before looking at Clint who was standing just past Steve. He opened his mouth but shut it when Steve made a gesture.
Shooting Steve a look, Clint put the weight down and slowly walked over to where Johnny was. He took it as a good sign the kid didn't try to move away, bad that he was breathing fast and had a near panicked, pained expression. He was wearing half-gloves so would have to take a chance if he had to touch him. "Hey kid," he spoke softly. "Hey, eyes on me," he waved a couple fingers in front of Johnny, breaking the line of sight. With his other hand behind his back, he signaled the other two to shift to the left some. It was unsettling to watch the kid's eyes shift between arctic blue and silver, with the occasional flash of honeydew green. "Look at me...yeah.. there ya go kid." He watched as Johnny's expression evened out before going blank. "Mind telling me what just happened?"
It took him a few tries to even out his breathing. Shaking his head, Johnny licked his lips then spoke. "Not here…"
"Hhmmm… " Clint sat back on his heels, hands dangling between his knees. "Well.. we were almost done for today…." He looked back at Steve, nodding that everything was being handled. Standing up, he offered his hand to Johnny.
Staring at the older man for several heartbeats, Johnny lifted his hand. Strong fingers wrapped around his wrists, careful to avoid skin contact, and helped him to his feet. He was led out of the gym and to the elevator, bypassing the showers completely.
"What..just… happened?" Sam asked, relaxing a little. "I mean, you'd think out of everyone you or Tony would be the one the kid gravitates to, not the pair of deadly deadly assassins." He shook his head as he settled back onto the bench. "What you waiting for?"
Shaking his head, Steve let out a soft huff of air. "After that, you still want to have a go at the weights?"
"Hell yeah man. Can't let a spooked kid throw me off my game. I'd never be able to handle panicked civilians if I did."
Once out of the elevator and onto Johnny's floor, Clint lead the kid to his room. Opening the door, he waved Johnny inside. "Go shower and change. I'll take care of Alexei. Afterwards, we talk. You hear me?"
Johnny nodded, still in the post adrenalin high jitters. Before Doom messed with him he hadn't had a panic attack like that in years. He grabbed a pair of pants and headed into the bathroom as Clint took care of Alexei. When he emerged nearly a half hour later, Nat was sitting on the couch with Alexei sitting in her lap, playing with a toy. Instead of taking a seat, he headed to the kitchenette to put a kettle of water. "I would offer something stronger, but..." He shrugged before he pulled down a mug and held it up, silently asking if either wanted tea as well. As he waited for the water to heat, he set the mugs out along with sugar, honey and a selection of teas. When the water was ready, he brought everything to the table, fixed his own tea and sat down at the table.
Alexei was placed in his bouncer then settled in front of the TV.
Clint flipped a chair around and sat, arms crossed over the back as he stared at Johnny. Patiently waiting for an explanation while waiting on Nat to make her move.
Natasha walked up behind Johnny. She watched as he stilled, shoulders tensing. With bare fingers, she put a hand on his shoulder. She felt him flinch, shoulder and head jerking to the side with a hiss. Her analytical mind catalogued everything that happened. From the feel of warm skin under her hand that was pebbling with goosebumps, to the slightly raised scars hidden under the tattoo. The tingle of what felt like static to the whispered demand that action needed to be taken. Even the barely there hint of a glow where her hand touched the intricate designs. Lightly she moved her hand, fingers tracing the scars, four parallel marks from right collarbone over his shoulder and across the base of his neck. the scars were a mockery of a loving caress. Those four bisected another scar. Lightly she traced the second scar, noting the difference between the two.
Johnny sucked in a breath, flattening his hands against the top of the table as he tried to repress the shudder. The burning cold of arctic ice played across the nerves under Natasha's hand, leaving a phantom sting in its wake.
"Claws across the shoulder. Surgical down the spine," Nat commented as she continued her examination. She slid her fingers back up, to the nape of Johnny's neck, squeezing gently before training her hand down his left shoulder and arm before stepping away. Matching Clint, she flipped her chair backwards and sat, arms crossed over the back. It was her turn to observe.
While Nat was distracting Johnny, Clint had removed one of his gloves. He didn't wait for the younger man to catch his breath, physically or mentally, before he grabbed a wrist. His hold was secure but not bone breaking tight. He felt a brief moment of shock, no worse than the mildly annoying static of a dry winter variety. At the edge of his mind came a sibilant hiss of a command to act. Compared to Loki or Wanda, whatever it was that tried to take over, was as feeble as a newborn and even less effective. He brushed it off. He noted that he could feel surgical scarring, like Nat mentioned, under his fingertips, but nothing under his palm. "Ready to talk yet?" he asked.
All Johnny could think of at the moment was how much he would love to turn this all back on Doom. To throw it back in the man's face three fold for doing what he did. To take something he loved, even thrived on and turn it into form of abusive manipulation was just low. Swallowing, he twitched, flexing his fingers, feeling the grip Clint had on him. "A panic attack… a really bad...panic attack with a...potentially dangerous reaction. Most people call it 'fight or flight'. 'Frenzy' is more apt for me." He let out a humorless laugh, "Last time it was this bad was…." he waved his free hand, indicating the scars. "Just after this. I forced them to put me under again. Next time I woke," he reached up, tracing one of the foxes on his throat, "these were fresh and I had somehow escaped again. Been running ever since."
"What caused the panic attack?" Natasha asked.
"My mind screaming at me that an apex predator was too fucking close."
Under his fingers, Clint felt the mostly steady, if somewhat faster than average, pulse. He stayed silent, letting Nat do the questioning.
"If Steve is an apex predator, then what is he and what are the rest of us? How do we compare? Clint… myself?" Nat probed.
"The biggest and baddest American Bald Eagle ever," Johnny said with snort. "And I still don't know how to apologize for..that…" he made a gesture before continuing. "A hunting hawk, one that's patient in the hunt and knows when to strike." He reached up and started rubbing his forehead with the heel of his free hand. "A black widow, what else? Just because she's small doesn't mean she's any less deadly."
"By never, ever mentioning it in his presence and hope he forgets about it. Pepper and Tony."
"Fire and machines. Warm and inviting but show disrespect for it, it will consume you. Noise and clatter and confusing as fuck. Can make life easy or a living hell."
Both of the former SHIELD Agents turned Avengers smirked at Johnny's description of Tony. It was a pretty accurate image unless you knew the man more personally.
"Sam and Bruce," Nat continued after a moment.
"A raptor that's had its wings broken in the past but can fly once more. An Indonesian Rainforest. Calm and quiet at a distance, but dark and dangerous when roused."
"A fair description for people you've hardly meet or spent any time with," Nat commented as she made herself and Clint a cup of tea, even though the water wasn't as hot anymore. "Last one. Yourself. What are you?" She tilted her head to the side.
Johnny made a soft groan as he put his head down on the table and ran his hand through his hair. "A fox." There was a bit of another snort. "One that's gotten into too much trouble of late for his own good."
Having ignored the small tugs, Clint finally unwrapped his fingers from around Johnny's wrist. "Tomorrow, same time, but we'll be working on your climbing and acrobatic skills. The day after Nat will be the one in charge, barring any calls to assemble. A day off to do as you please, then you start working." He stood up, putting the chair to rights. Taking the mug, he wandered over to Alexei. The baby was starting to squirm and kick, grabbing at the brightly colored shapes that hung from the overhead arch of the bouncer.
"He already pitched you the recruitment speech," Nat said with a smirk. "Still thinking?"
Johnny wrapped both arms over his head and groaned. "Not thinking…mind's too scrambled to think…."
"Poor baby," Nat replied, not sympathetic in the least to his situation.
Lifting his head, he crossed his arms on the table then laid his head back down, looking at Nat. "Not poor...just… missing touch. Before things went to hell in a fashionably acceptable handbasket, Mirela and I would spend time just cuddling, especially after sex. Now….. now it feels like I'm being punished for having any physical contact." He sat up, running his hands through his hair to get it out of his face. "Now.. now I just want Doom to know what it feels like to be denied his desire." He pulled his mug close then took a sip and grimaced. "Bleagh… cold tea. Not very good."
Nat laughed in amusement as she stood up as well, righting the chair as she did. "You still have Alexei to cuddle with."
Johnny really made a face. "Cuddling with him is good, just not.. no… uh-uh. I miss having a bed partner. One that is willing." He finished off his tea even though it was cool. After, he started to clean up what little mess was made.''
"Give it time, I'm pretty sure you'll find a willing woman to share your bed again."
"Or a willing man," Johnny shrugged. "I'm not picky."
"Excuse me Agents Barton, Romanoff" FRIDAY spoke up.
Everyone looked up at the ceiling.
"Captain Rogers has requested your presence in conference room one."
"Thanks, let him know we're on our way," Clint replied as he stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow in the gym one way or another," he told Johnny as he passed him to put the mug in the sink before leaving. Nat was already gone. They both knew that it was either a call to assemble or else Wanda and Vision had returned.