He finds Wanda curled in the corner of the sofa, staring off into a wall.
She glances up as he crosses the room, her eyes big and sad and pleading, and Clint feels her gaze on him like a punch to the gut as he tries to force a smile and a positive attitude.
“Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, dropping onto the sofa beside her and slinging an arm around her shoulders. Wanda turns and curls herself into his embrace, her head tucked up beneath his chin, and Clint lets out a slow breath as he settles himself.
She’s still recovering from imprisonment, and he hates to leave her when she’s such a mess, but right now it can’t be helped. She has Steve and Sam and Scott to look after her, and he has to go get his family somewhere safe and figure out where Natasha is.
But reasoning that to himself and explaining it to her are two very different tasks.
They sit in silence for a long moment as Clint tries to find the right words to start, but Wanda beats him to it.
“You’re leaving.”
Clint settles her a bit more snugly against himself and takes a slow breath before answering.
“Yeah. Just for a day or so. Gonna pick up Laura and the kids.”
“You aren’t taking me with you.”
“…no. I need you to stay here.”
He feels her curl tighter into herself, and leans to press a kiss to her soft hair.
“Because I’m too dangerous,” she whispers, her inflection carrying a question but her tone stating a fact, and Clint gives her a squeeze.
“You’re not dangerous, Wanda,” he scolds lightly. “I’d love to take you, but the fewer people that go, the safer we’ll be, and I’m not going to risk you getting hurt if we get caught again.”
Neither of them mention her still-trembling hands, or the fact that after two days of freedom her eyes have yet to lose their undercurrent of frightened, molten red.
Clint vaguely wonders if T’Challa’s doctors would be willing to speak with her, just to help her cope.
“Besides,” he says, forcing a smile, “if we do get ourselves in trouble, I want the most powerful Avenger waiting to come save us.”
She scoffs a little at that but doesn’t argue.
Clint hugs her close, nuzzling his face into her hair like he’s done a hundred times to comfort her since her brother died to save him.
“You’re gonna be okay, kiddo. I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”
Wanda nuzzles up into him, pressing close, and after a long moment he lets out a sigh.
He has to speak to king T’Challa still, arrange a jet trip to pick up his family. He trusts Laura to handle everything on her end, but he’ll have to have things ready for them here – rooms to stay in, arrangements with the palace staff, someone to act as doctor for them because Nate still needs his checkups…he’s got a lot to do. Clint’s running out of time, he’s got to get moving.
He makes to move away but Wanda tightens her grip slightly, and he hesitates.
“Will you stay?” she whispers, not meeting his gaze. “Just for a little while longer?”
He shoots a glance at his watch.
T’Challa is still in his meeting, and likely will be for the next half hour, so he lets himself relax back into the sofa, a hand stroking gently through Wanda’s hair.
“Okay, kiddo,” he murmurs, hugging her tight. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”
FILL: After The War (4/?)
She glances up as he crosses the room, her eyes big and sad and pleading, and Clint feels her gaze on him like a punch to the gut as he tries to force a smile and a positive attitude.
“Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, dropping onto the sofa beside her and slinging an arm around her shoulders. Wanda turns and curls herself into his embrace, her head tucked up beneath his chin, and Clint lets out a slow breath as he settles himself.
She’s still recovering from imprisonment, and he hates to leave her when she’s such a mess, but right now it can’t be helped. She has Steve and Sam and Scott to look after her, and he has to go get his family somewhere safe and figure out where Natasha is.
But reasoning that to himself and explaining it to her are two very different tasks.
They sit in silence for a long moment as Clint tries to find the right words to start, but Wanda beats him to it.
“You’re leaving.”
Clint settles her a bit more snugly against himself and takes a slow breath before answering.
“Yeah. Just for a day or so. Gonna pick up Laura and the kids.”
“You aren’t taking me with you.”
“…no. I need you to stay here.”
He feels her curl tighter into herself, and leans to press a kiss to her soft hair.
“Because I’m too dangerous,” she whispers, her inflection carrying a question but her tone stating a fact, and Clint gives her a squeeze.
“You’re not dangerous, Wanda,” he scolds lightly. “I’d love to take you, but the fewer people that go, the safer we’ll be, and I’m not going to risk you getting hurt if we get caught again.”
Neither of them mention her still-trembling hands, or the fact that after two days of freedom her eyes have yet to lose their undercurrent of frightened, molten red.
Clint vaguely wonders if T’Challa’s doctors would be willing to speak with her, just to help her cope.
“Besides,” he says, forcing a smile, “if we do get ourselves in trouble, I want the most powerful Avenger waiting to come save us.”
She scoffs a little at that but doesn’t argue.
Clint hugs her close, nuzzling his face into her hair like he’s done a hundred times to comfort her since her brother died to save him.
“You’re gonna be okay, kiddo. I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”
Wanda nuzzles up into him, pressing close, and after a long moment he lets out a sigh.
He has to speak to king T’Challa still, arrange a jet trip to pick up his family. He trusts Laura to handle everything on her end, but he’ll have to have things ready for them here – rooms to stay in, arrangements with the palace staff, someone to act as doctor for them because Nate still needs his checkups…he’s got a lot to do. Clint’s running out of time, he’s got to get moving.
He makes to move away but Wanda tightens her grip slightly, and he hesitates.
“Will you stay?” she whispers, not meeting his gaze. “Just for a little while longer?”
He shoots a glance at his watch.
T’Challa is still in his meeting, and likely will be for the next half hour, so he lets himself relax back into the sofa, a hand stroking gently through Wanda’s hair.
“Okay, kiddo,” he murmurs, hugging her tight. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”