Note: Some body horror. Or should I say canon/fanon-typical violence? In this `verse, soulmarks have to be spoken out loud. My theory is that anyone born a mute will be able to speak their words to their soulmate, even if that's the only time they ever speak in this life. Of course, Clint wasn't born mute…

Also, many thanks to the following readers, who helpfully provided corrections to the German in the previous chapter: coffeee, tinyballoflight, Mystera II, and melodyneko. If you check, you'll see I've edited the text accordingly. Yay!

"Speaking in Tongues"

Phil stared through the window into the hospital room.

"He won't say anything, at all," Simmons said, her eyebrows drawn together. "He just sits there in stony silence. There's no head injury."

"He has no reason to be pissed at you," Phil said. "Did you check his ears?"

"When I asked him whether he could hear, he nodded, but he won't even open his mouth. And I was standing behind him when I asked, so he didn't just read my lips."

"Strange for Barton," he said. "Let me try to talk to him."

"Skye's searching the security footage to find out what they may've done to him," Fitz said from Phil's other side. "She'll let us know what she turns up. That may make it easier to deal with him, once we know what happened."

"He let me check him over, but if there are internal injuries he's not telling me about any pain, which means I can't treat him," Simmons said.

Skye walked up to them, her face ashen, and nearly ran into Fitz.

"Skye, what's wrong?" Phil said. "What… what'd they do to Hawkeye?"

"Um…" She looked down at the tablet in her hands, almost like she'd forgotten it was there, and handed it over. "Let me talk to him. I can't relate to what's going on with him, but I can talk… I can use s-sign language."

"Why would you need to know sign language?"

"One of the families I stayed with had a daughter who was deaf. I learnt just in case they wanted to keep me, but…" She shrugged. "Just let me talk to him, DC."

He gestured to the door, and watched her go. When she got into the room – soundproofed, unfortunately – she said something to Barton. Whatever it was, only a few seconds later he looked absolutely crushed. Skye walked up to him and tilted his chin up. When he was looking at her, she began to sign. Slowly, he signed back, and Phil knew he'd have to brush up on his sign language skills. It'd been too long since he had to use it, preferring pre-arranged non-standard hand signals to something any trained person could read.

Eventually, Skye sat next to Barton. He stiffened when she put her arm around his shoulders, but then leaned into her side. Simmons gasped, and Phil realised they were watching the video. He looked over their shoulder, got them to rewind, and watched as Barton's captors did something to his mouth.

"Zoom in," he said. Fitz handled it, and Simmons looked ready to cry when they realised that Barton's tongue had been mutilated in an obviously excruciating way. So much so that he almost passed out, and was only kept away by the bucket of water thrown over his head.

"Holy shit," Fitz murmured.

"I… I have no idea how to handle that," Simmons whispered.

"We have to call in specialist help, I think," Phil said. It was difficult to force any words out, and it reminded him of what a gift speech was. Damn, he remembered the days that Barton would chatter away on the comms if he was bored. The highlight of many a dull early mission, before Romanov joined SHIELD and they became Strike Team Delta.

"What kind of specialist can help fix that level of damage?" Fitz asked.

"I don't know. But whoever can, I know we'll find them. We have to, for Hawkeye's sake. He can't go out into the field as an Avenger if he can't talk over the comms. Not unless he had something to speak for him."

"You mean like Stephen Hawking?"

"Let's see what medical science can do for him first, shall we?" Simmons said, trying (and failing) to sound positive. "I'm sure we'll find the answer."

Clint looked up as a young woman walked into the medical room. Did they really think that throwing different people at him would make him crack? He just wanted to get back to his team, not be stuck with New SHIELD. No matter how pretty this youngster was, there was nothing she could say that would make him—

"I know what they did to you," she said, "and please believe that we just want to help you, Clint, however we can."

No one had ever said those exact words to him. For a moment, he was elated. Sure, she looked young, but she was his soulmate! He had to think of something to say, so she'd know it was him…

And then it came crashing down on him. He couldn't say it to her. He lowered his head, heart crushed beyond belief. Those sick bastards had ruined his chances. She could be his soulmate, yeah, but there was no way to tell her. He couldn't tell her. Did she even have a soulmark? In his writing?

"Hey." She lifted his chin up, and he watched as she chewed her bottom lip. Then she raised her hands and began to sign. 'You need to let our doctor examine you. She might be able to help.'

'I won't be able to speak to my soulmate,' he replied.

'You haven't met them yet?'

He debated over telling her the truth. But if he couldn't say the words to her, he wasn't going to say anything about it at all. There was no point.

'What do you think?' he signed.

'I think it's a real pity, but it's okay. I haven't found my soulmate yet, either.'

'Still waiting for the words?'

'That's it.'

He made a face. 'Will you stay here while I'm examined? I don't know how much your boss remembers about signing.'

She smiled at him, and it hurt all over again. 'You bet.'

"I'm sure Dr. McCoy would be able to help," Jemma murmured. "Muscular and cellular regeneration is very much prevalent in the Star Trek universe. Mr. Stark doesn't have anything like that?" He shook his head. "At least they didn't cut it out; I'd have nothing to work with, then."

"So you're saying you can't do anything yet?" Skye said.

"'Yet' being the operative word here. Fitz and I will do some research and see if we can knock something up together. Alright, Agent Barton?"

He signed, and Skye translated. "Just Mr. Barton. He's not an agent anymore."

"Thank you, Skye. And you, Mr. Barton. It's much easier to address you when I know how."

He signed again. Again, Skye translated. "Call me Clint."

"Very well," Jemma said. "Now, Clint, I'm going to take some cell samples. A swab ought to do it. Then we'll take an x-ray, see how deep the damage goes. In the meantime, if oral feeding is out, we can try intravenous, but I really would prefer you to have proper sustenance, even if we have to put it through a blender to make it… drinkable."

He looked vaguely bemused, and signed something longer.

"If he has enough painkillers to tranquilise a horse, he can handle drinking food," Skye said.

"Please tell me he was exaggerating. If it's enough to tranquilise a horse, he won't be awake enough to ingest anything."

Clint chuckled, and signed again. At least he seemed more cheerful now.

"He was using hyperbole," Skye said. "It sounds classier than exaggerating."

"Sense of humour intact," Jemma said. "Happy patients heal faster. It's a scientifically proven fact, I'll have you know."

"Sure," Skye said. That wasn't a translation, and Jemma gave her an affronted look.

"It was the subject of my first thesis," she said.

"…Oh."

"Don't worry, Mr. Barton! I'm sure it will be no time at all before you're able to speak again. Then you can go forth and find your soulmate."

He smiled ruefully, and signed again.

"Thanks, doc," Skye translated. "You're being very patient."

"The point is that you're the patient," Jemma said. He sniggered, and Skye rolled her eyes with a groan. "I'm sorry. That was terrible. And please call me Jemma."

He signed once more.

"I will when I can talk again," Skye said.

"It would definitely help if I can learn sign language myself," Jemma said.

Clint made a few hand movements, and glanced at Skye, who smiled back at him. Well, hello there. Jemma contained her smirk.

"What was that?" she asked.

"He just signed your name," Skye said.

"Oh! Yes. I'll get on with learning as soon as I can."

"Concentrate on fixing his tongue," Skye said. "When you take a break, I'll teach you the alphabet and the basics."

"Teach me phrases like 'Ouch, that hurts'," Jemma said. "That might be more helpful than 'Hello'."

They looked over the scans they'd taken of the tongue.

"I can stitch up most of the lacerations," Jemma said. Leo glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"According to the articles I found, tongues are supposed to heal fairly quickly," he said. "It's not as though half of it was hacked off."

"With this number of deep cuts, some of them going right through, I don't know how soon it will fix itself, whether he'll ever talk the same way again. If only I'd gone into medicine proper, rather than bioscience."

"But then we never would've met," Leo said, elbowing her. She still looked regretful, and he sighed internally. "Look on the bright side. The tongue is resilient."

"I saw the way he looked at Skye," she whispered. "Remember how shattered he looked after she spoke to him?"

"You think they're soulmates?"

"And she has no idea."

"God, Jemma."

"I know. We have to fix this."

"Let's prep him for surgery, then. Anaesthetic, I think."

"Quite right," she said, nodding. "We don't want him to be reminded of when… when the injuries occurred."

"Should we have Skye there, at least at the start?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so. I'm nowhere near advanced enough. The alphabet and 'Ouch, that hurts' – last time I'm flippant with them, I swear – are all I can remember."

"I'm shocked, Simmons," he said, pasting on a look of horror. "You're a genius, and you can't remember more than 'Ouch, that hurts'?"

She smacked him on the upper arm. "Come along. Let's go and tell Hawkeye the good news."

Skye was there when Clint went under anaesthetic, and when he came out of surgery and was transferred to a recovery room. It had an adjoining toilet and shower, and Simmons brought stuff for her so she didn't have to leave. Just in case Clint woke up while no one was there. She kept the bathroom door open, though she kept the shower curtain partially drawn. No sense in him waking up and choking on his healing tongue because he witnessed full-frontal nudity from her.

It was while she was curled up in the chair beside him, reading, that he moaned as he woke up. She placed her hand beneath his, so that he wasn't trapped, and waited for him to register her presence. When his eyes blearily met hers, she smiled.

"Hey," she said softly. "You're awake. God, I'm sorry. That was dumb. I mean, hey. How are you feeling? You can write if you're not up for signing. Or you can just wait until you have the energy? Sorry, sorry! I should let you speak. Or, you know, get some word in edgewise."

He smiled tiredly, and managed to sign, 'Good to hear your voice. I'm not dead yet?'

"Nope," she said. "Still alive. Fitz has been working on something which should encourage your tongue to heal faster. I'm gonna get you a buzzer so that I don't have to leave the door open while I shower."

'I don't mind watching,' he signed. Then his eyes drifted shut and he dropped off to sleep, leaving Skye gaping in shock. She was pretty sure her cheeks were on fire, they felt hot enough.

"So that just happened," she said aloud to herself.

"What happened?"

"Jemma! Don't scare me like that."

"I'm sorry, Skye. Did Clint wake up?"

"Just for a few seconds," she said. "Not long enough for a decent conversation." But apparently for an indecent one. She squirmed in place while Jemma checked Clint's vitals.

"What has you blushing like that?" Jemma said. "Must be something juicy."

"What? No, no! Nothing. I'm not blushing."

"Ah. The temperature must simply be a little warm in here," she said.

"Yep. That's it. High temperature."

"Mmm. I'd turn it down, but that might not be good for the patient."

"I'll be okay," Skye mumbled.

"If you're sure. I'll check on him again later, unless he wakes up first. Do notify me if the latter occurs."

Skye nodded as Jemma bustled back out, and tried to concentrate on her book. But her mind kept going over Clint's flirtatious comment. It was probably just the anaesthetic wearing off or something. What did she know about medicine? No one told her whether she said anything weird after she'd been shot. The only weirdness she was concentrating on at the time was, well, the alien blood she'd been injected with.

He woke a few more times over the next couple of days, drinking smoothies but not trying to talk. Not yet. He signed that he wanted to take it slowly, give his tongue the maximum opportunity to heal, which Jemma praised him for. Fitz's gadget – whatever it was, probably inspired by science-fiction – seemed to work. He shone a sort of blue light over Clint's tongue a few times, something which was supposed to encourage the cells to regenerate or repair themselves faster. At least Skye thought that's what he was saying.

She was finally encouraged to move back to her bunk, not that she liked it there. Too lonely after the past three nights at Clint's side. She'd miss him when he was gone. He'd apparently forgotten all about his inappropriate (albeit flattering) remark, and she'd discovered just how witty he was, especially on pain medication when it came to meal time. She was careful not to say anything that would make him choke on his food-drink, but he didn't seem bothered about signing to her while he drank.

When she returned to his hospital room one morning, she was dismayed to find him no longer there.

"What…?"

"Clint's in a normal bunk now," Coulson said from the doorway, scaring the bejeezus out of her. "Simmons removed the stitches last night, and after a final round of scanning, he was allowed to move out of here."

"So… he's still on base?" Skye said shyly. He raised an eyebrow. "Just… interested. I wouldn't want him to leave without saying goodbye."

"He wouldn't do that, Skye. He's actually only two doors down from you, next to Simmons in case he needed help during the night. You should go visit him. I think his tongue's nearly there. He might be able to talk to you."

"But then he'll be going back to Stark Tower, right?"

Coulson shrugged. "Unless he can find a reason to choose us over the tower." He looked at her significantly.

Skye cleared her throat. "I'm just gonna go find him, then. See ya, boss-man."

Clint's door was open, and he smiled up at Skye when she walked into the room.

'How are you feeling?' she signed.

'I think I'm getting there,' he replied. 'I'll stick to smoothies until I'm sure it's okay. Jemma said I could have mashed potato if I want.'

'She makes really good mashed potato,' Skye answered. 'From real potatoes.'

Clint laughed, an open-mouthed laugh, a change from the closed-mouth laughs he'd stuck to since she met him.

"That's nice," she said. He tilted his head. "Hearing you laugh like that. Just realised I haven't heard your voice at all. So… yeah. I'll miss you when you go."

He studied her, his hands still, and she figured that was her dismissal. She turned to go, and was nearly at the door when…

He spoke.

"Thanks for being there for me," he said. "You have no idea how much it means."

Skye gripped the door pane, reeling, and stared back over her shoulder at Clint. He lowered his eyes.

"You knew since the start," she said. "When I spoke to you… that's why you looked so miserable."

"My voice sounds different," he said, and he made a face.

"Well, I've never heard you speak before," she said, "so I don't have anything to compare it to. But you should've told me."

"That would've been cheating," he said. "Besides, why spoil the surprise? And…" His eyes turned sad. "I wasn't sure whether you'd be interested or not. In me. Who I am."

"Why… why wouldn't I be? Clint, I've had a crush on you since the first time you signed Jemma's name, all without knowing that you and I were soulmates. Are soulmates. But are you sure you want me? I had a pretty messed up childhood."

"So did I. We should compare horror stories, see who had it worse. Pretty sure I'll have you topped, though."

She perched on the bed beside him, clutching the frame and staring at the floor. "So what do we do now?"

"I stay or you come with me. It's a no-brainer, Skye."

"I don't wanna separate you from the Avengers."

"And I don't wanna separate you from your SHIELD family. I don't feel as right there as I do here. I mean, if you want the life of luxury in Stark Tower—"

"No, God no. I wouldn't know what to do with it."

"Neither do I," he said quietly, bumping his shoulder against hers. "So you'll consider it? You don't hate the idea of me being on your turf here?"

"SHIELD was your turf before it was mine," she said.

"SHIELD was my turf before you were born."

"Not true, and you know it," she said. "I've seen your file, I know how old you are."

"Seeing whether I was in my dotage yet?" he asked, grinning cheekily.

"No," she said, rolling her eyes. "I was just interested, that's all. I got to know the type of guy you are through our conversations, but I did research, because that's what I do. It's my forte, you could say."

He leaned in and kissed her on the lips without warning. Obviously he wasn't ready to deepen the kiss, and she had no intention of pushing him. Chaste was nice.

"I look forward to finding out your other fortes," he murmured against her lips. Skye shivered.

"You're the best marksman in the world," she said. "I look forward to finding out just how good your aim is."

I couldn't resist the usual Clint's-aim-must-be-useful-in-the-bedroom cliché, and neither could Skye.

Okay, the pairing was requested by MaddisenK, and AwkwardMoment and I had discussed what might happen if a character was mute. And then I took that to an awful level with Clint being rendered temporarily mute by the bad guys. Admittedly, before I went online and searched how to heal tongue lacerations, I thought it would be much more difficult to heal an injured tongue. Le sigh.

Please review! And I'm NOT expanding the previous chapter further than a bonding scene. Same answer as with all the other requested expansions. Although another reader has hinted that they might write some kind of continuation, in which case I'll let you know what happens with that.