Gently

10. In the Absence of Noise

Not everything Tony Stark makes is flawless, as Clint found out one bleary-eyed morning. He'd just finished feeling out the coffee machine, letting out a small moan of pleasure when he finally took a sip of the beverage, when he noticed the Bucky silhouette gesturing at his ears and put on his hearing aids. Bucky said something, and Clint heard nothing. Frowning, he fiddled around with them, wishing they were as simple as ordinary hearing aids (because the day Tony Stark did 'simple' was the day S.H.I.E.L.D employed carrier pigeons), but when he clicked his fingers he still received nothing. He took them out with a sigh, signing to Bucky to let him know the situation.

When he realised he couldn't see what it was that Bucky signed back to him, he growled in frustration and dug his fingers into his eyes (they were his best sense, dammit!), willing them to function properly when his ears wouldn't. A hand on his shoulder made him look up, and fuzzy-Bucky jerked his head in the direction of the table. They sat there for a few minutes, waiting for Clint's sight to reach a good enough standard for communication.

I'll go to Stark as soon as I can, he signed.

That will be a while, Bucky informed him. He left for Malibu this morning, won't be back for about a week.

Clint dropped his forehead on to his arms, letting out a frustrated sigh. Bucky's metal hand ran across his shoulders, pressing firmly at the base of his neck as he massaged Clint's muscles. He hummed, hoping it sounded happy. What are we going to do until he gets back? he asked.

Bucky stared into his mug as he thought. We could go to the range, he suggested, or the gym. It's been ages since I pinned you to a mat. There was a wicked glint in his eyes, and Clint swatted at him ineffectually.

Range. But if Agent Robinson comes in to tell me to put headphones on, go easy on her this time.

His immediate response was an eye roll, and as Clint stood to put away his mug, Bucky signed back: I still maintain that I did not revert to 'the Winter Soldier face', whatever that may be. Clint laughed. Or at least, it felt like he did.

Being on the range was easy. He was used to taking his aids out during this time, focusing instead on the pull of his bow, the feel of the arrows between his fingers, and watching them strike the target exactly where he wanted. It was an added comfort knowing Bucky was nearby – Clint couldn't remember the last time they'd been on the range together (it wasn't the Agent Robinson incident, fortunately), and he found it amusing to see the looks on the faces of the younger agents as the Winter Soldier and Hawkeye systematically went through target after target without breaking a sweat.

Some time passed before he felt a solid hand on his shoulder, and he turned to see Bucky stood with Agent Coulson. He raised an eyebrow, setting down his bow as Phil signed to him (he was fairly sure Coulson was the only agent he knew who was fluent in sign language. It was both a blessing and a curse). You and Agents Morse and Wilson are required for a briefing, he explained. Something has come up and Fury wants you on the roster.

Clint scowled. I'm not exactly in the best condition for a mission right now, he pointed out, knowing that Phil would understand what he meant.

I'm sure Sergeant Barnes wouldn't mind acting as a translator.

Bucky, who had been following the conversation, smiled. Not a problem.

Sensing that he wasn't getting out of this, Clint relented with a sigh, and collected his arrows up before trudging up to the briefing room. Just as he predicted, Bobbi and Sam greeted him verbally upon his arrival, and he didn't even wait to see Bucky correct them. He sat in an empty seat, turning it so that he could more or less see everyone, and threw a glare at Fury that let him know he wasn't pleased about the situation. Fury sent him one back that read 'tough shit', and he slumped down in his seat.

It was, as far as he was concerned, a pretty disastrous briefing. Though Bucky was signing everything that was being said, he couldn't indicate who was speaking at the time he was translating, so when either Sam or Bobbi asked a question Clint had to look to see who was speaking, and by the time he turned his attention back to Bucky the conversation had moved on without him, and he was lost. He put up with it for all of thirty minutes before deciding it was a waste of time and zoning out. Whenever Bucky tried to get him to re-focus, he pretended for a couple of minutes before going back to tracing imaginary patterns on the wall behind his head.

Their dismissal couldn't have come any sooner; though Bobbi and Sam smiled at him as they left, he couldn't find it in himself to give them genuine ones in reply. He was about to leave himself when Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, signalling for him to wait as he went and talked to Coulson. Clint leant against the wall, absently flicking through the grey plastic folder with all the mission information (seriously, why couldn't he just have been given this in the first place?) until Bucky reappeared in his line of vision, indicating they could leave with a tilt of his head.

So I got Fury to give us access to the security recording of the meeting, he told him when they were in the lift. You can listen to it in full once we've got your hearing sorted.

Great. So in, what, a week? Thought Coulson said we had five days to prepare. From Bucky's expression he knew he was scowling, but he couldn't help it. Frustration was already deeply rooted inside him, and he doubted it would go away any time soon.

Hey, I'm trying to help here.

I know, and I'm sorry, but it still doesn't take away the fact that I can't hear a goddamn thing. If it was just you and me, I wouldn't mind so much, but when Fury insists I sit through meetings I can't even follow, it gets to me. You know how useless I feel? How lost I get? I know you were there, and you helped a bit, but it's when lots people start adding their own voices and everything becomes muddled that I just think, 'what's the point?'. And to top it all off, I still won't be able to hear by the time we're due to leave, so why waste my time – and your time – like that, when I won't even be of any use in the field?

Clint dropped his hands, turning away from Bucky until the lift doors opened and he strode out. He assumed they were going back to the tower, and was proved right when Bucky subtly took the lead and headed to the car park. They were silent for the whole ride back, and it was only when they were back in their apartment that Bucky turned him around and made him watch what he had to say. I know you get frustrated, he began, and I'm sorry that there wasn't more I could do in the meeting, but I think Coulson and I came up with a solution. When Clint didn't move, he continued; I got you the recordings because I believe you'll be able to hear again sooner than you think. Coulson gave me the names of a couple of scientists who he's pretty sure can help us out – one's an engineer, the other's a biologist or something. He grinned. We're going to give them Tony's blueprints and see what they can come up with.

Blinking for a few seconds, Clint tried to work out if he'd misread Bucky's signs or not. So, what you're saying is…?

These guys can have you a new pair of hearing aids by tomorrow. Coulson promised to push them. You'll be op-ready at the same time as Bobbi and Sam.

Processing that information, realising that he wouldn't have to suffer being useless on an op, Clint half-threw himself around Bucky, grinning when he felt him laughing beneath him. He thanked him with a kiss – a long one, just to make it clear how much he appreciated Bucky's efforts. You're the best boyfriend in the world.

Bucky smirked. So I've been told. But his expression softened as he said, You're more than welcome.

So who're these scientists we have to find?

He shrugged. They're called FitzSimmons. Clint raised an eyebrow, doubting he'd got that right, but Bucky swore that was what Coulson had said. Apparently everyone calls them that. You want to go find them now?

God, yes. The sooner he could hear again, the better (and the sooner they could settle their newly-placed bet on whether FitzSimmons could out-design Tony Stark).

AN: Prompt: "Could you maybe do more about Clint's deafness?"
Please note - I know very little about deafness, besides what others have said about it. Hope I've got it at least halfway accurate. But in regards to dialogue, I'm laying down the 'creative liberties' card and tiptoeing away... (sorry!)