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Post by Ray on Jul 9, 2018 20:58:19 GMT -7
Teresa had moved here not long after she had split from Graeme because she had wanted to get away from her father. She couldn’t move back into the house with him and plus she had wanted to get away from Mystic anyway, it’s really why they had broke up. But now here she was with this powers and she would have to learn to live with them if she wanted to have a normal life again.
If that was even possible.
She doesn’t let go of Barton’s hand but she does make sure that she doesn’t hold on as tightly as she probably would have before she set foot into this room. She just hoped that she hadn’t damaged her hands too badly.
Teresa could sense something between the two and she want sure just what it actually was and not sure if she really wanted to find out. Mostly because it wasn’t any of her business.
Barton spoke about Steve wanting Jesse and she gave him a slight smile before moving over towards the elevator doors. If she was honest she just wanted to be out of this room and maybe even get a bit of rest if that was possible.
It seemed like these abilities took a lot out of her and from how much she had used them today she was definitely feeling tired and would probably need a pick-me-up on her way home later.
Barton follows Teresa to the elevator, and together they ride back up to the observation room where Steve still waits. But Tony has disappeared, the recording playing on a loop on the monitors like a sports replay. Steve glances over, seeming less shaken up than he had a few minutes ago, seeming steadier on his feet. He gives a small smile to Teresa, still apologetic.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, uncrossing his arms to swipe a finger across the monitor, darkening the screen.
"Oh just peachy." Barton replies, wholly sarcastically.
"Not you." Steve sighs, and flicks his blue eyes to meet Teresa's. "I really am sorry I pushed you so hard. It won't happen again." He promises her, his voice soft and sincere.
The ride up was actually quiet and definitely a little welcome. She was still feeling a little shaken up from what had happened but at the same time she wanted to make sure that she was fine at the same time.
They came to the room that she had been in before and she saw that it was just Steve left in there now and he gave her a slight smile to which she replied with her own. He then asked her how she was feeling and was about to answer when Barton did.
Teresa raised an eyebrow at Barton before shaking her head when Steve spoke again and this time he added the rest on, she chewed on her lip but kept her brown eyes on him.
She sighed softly “I don’t blame you for pushing me,” she admitted “I would have done the same but I.. don’t want to go through that again especially if I don’t know my own powers well enough plus Jesse helped with the warmth” she gave Steve a smile this time that was a little warmer. “But to answer your question I feel sore and tired and I definitely want to get some sleep”
"You won't," Steve nods, "I promise." He knows that might not mean much, but he's a man of his word even if he does make mistakes. After hearing her cry of pain, putting her through that same trial is not something he has any intention of doing. If he did, he'd be no better than SHIELD's sometimes overzealous tactics. And the point of this was to avoid putting her through a situation like that.
His brows lift a little in surprise at the mention of Jesse, and then a faint smile tugs at his lips, making him drop his gaze to the floor. He knew that the kid would do some good, even if he was late and even if both Tony and Barton seem to believe the opposite. But he also knows he pissed Jesse off in the process.
Something he never meant to do.
"Clint will get you to the on-call physician," he continues, nodding once to Barton who returns it in agreement, "She's nice. She might even be able to prescribe something to help with the soreness. And then we'll let you get back home."
"She's saved my ass more than a couple times." Barton admits, looking to Teresa. "She'll definitely have something strong on hand."
"Did you..." Steve comments, nudging his head towards the glass.
"I delivered the message. He's all yours." Barton replies, a little exasperated. "God forbid." He adds on in a mutter. And then placing a hand on the small of Teresa's back, he gives her a soft guiding push towards the doors.
Teresa is glad to hear that she wouldn’t have to go through that again but it’s mostly because she doesn’t want to hear the same crack from her hands that she heard earlier. Like she said she doesn’t blame Steve and mostly that’s because she had said about showing them just what she could do but also because she knew that he didn’t intentionally hurt her and for that she could accept his apology.
She smiled when he said about the on call physician and honestly she hoped that she was carrying the good stuff because she could easily take that. But she was glad to hear that she could head home after that.
Teresa watched the two of them talk about Jesse and she was actually thankful that he had eased a bit of pain but at the same time she was glad that she wasn’t alone in the powers department.
She gave Steve a smile “Bye” she said softly and then walked out with Barton. She is well aware of his hand on the small of her back and she chews down on her lip. “You seem mad about something” she said and glanced over at him. “Is it about what happened?” She asked.
They step out of the observation room and let the door close behind them with a quiet rush of air, ending this little...whatever the hell it was once and for all. Barton lets his hand fall from the small of her back as he leads her back towards the main elevator, thinking of nothing more than getting Teresa's hands bandaged and getting a nice, potent pain killer to sooth the ache forming in his own head.
Today has been a little too exciting.
He glances to Teresa when she breaks the quiet, finding her eyes already on him. That headache strikes a little deeper. "Not mad just..." he trails off, thinking that maybe mad is the right word for what he's feeling. "I trust Cap with my life. I trust his judgement. I trust his decisions." He tells her, admitting that much even if he did snap at Steve back there. Not his finest moment. "But I would have liked a little warning that he planned on bringing the kid in on this," he says, stopping at the elevator and pressing the down button on the touch-screen maybe a little too aggressively.
It's not that Jesse is terrible. By all means, Barton has known worse teenagers in his lifetime. Hell, he's been a worse teenager. But Cap just risked throwing gasoline onto a fire because he has a little too much faith in Jesse's self-control. So yeah. Maybe he is a little mad. The elevator doors open for them, and Barton lets Teresa step in first before he follows after, pressing the button for the medical wing of this monstrous tower.
"So..." Jesse says when he hears the doors open behind him, and pushes his hands into the pockets of his black sweatpants, "Training, huh?" He asks, glancing back.
Steve loosens the collar of his tactical shirt and drifts off to the side to lean his shoulder heavily against one of the black walls of this hexagonal death trap. Jesse slowly turns to face him, seeing the exhaustion plain as day on his face. But still Steve huffs out a small laugh, rolling until his back presses to the wall and letting his head fall back against it. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, and Jesse has a hard time not staring at it. "The car was supposed to pick you up sooner."
"Just further proof that you're a goddamn idiot." Jesse says, fixing his dark eyes on Steve's and furrowing his brows.
"Maybe." Steve murmurs and sighs. "I shouldn't have pushed her."
"No."
"She's strong. I could feel it. I just wanted to see it."
"So you risked her getting hurt." Jesse says, a little harshly. Steve looks to him and presses his mouth flat for a moment.
"That wasn't my intention."
"She's not a soldier, Rogers. She's scared."
"I know," Steve bites back, lifting his head off the wall and pushing himself away. "But not knowing is /half/ the fear. Now we have some idea of what exactly it is she can do, how strong she is, what triggers it--" Jesse scoffs and looks down to his feet, shaking his head, "Now we can /help/ her, Jesse. Now /you/ can help her."
Jesse blinks, his anger diffusing with that single phrase. He looks up sharply, surprise marking his face as he looks Steve straight in his.
Steve sighs and lets his shoulder slump, looking away for a moment as he thinks over his words, Jesse seeing the gears work in his head like he works his jaw in a slow circle. "You're right. I don't know shit about any of this. The world is...different now. I'm not the only one with strength or speed or..." he trails off, shakes his head, and looks to Jesse. "But you know. You've experienced it all first hand. /Controlled/ it. You can help her do the same."
Teresa listens to him and then chews on her lip. So he wasn’t mad? She wasn’t sure exactly what he was right now but mad definitely seemed to be there.
He speaks about trusting cap and she had never thought anything against that and in fact Teresa seemed to trust him too even though he had pushed her to the part where she had wanted to bring Stark Tower down on them.
But for some reason Barton had something against Jesse and she wasn’t sure she it was. She sighed softly when he pressed the button a little too aggressively.
Thankfully the doors opened up and he let her go in first and then followed after but she leaned against the back and let it just hold her up for a moment.
A slight smile pulled at her lips as she then said in a soft teasing tone “You’re hot when you’re mad” she said and then looked forward. Her brown eyes back on the doors of the elevator.
What Teresa hadn’t told him was that she wanted to come back but this time she wanted to make sure that she didn’t hurt herself and she definitely didn’t want to push her powers to far until she could really control herself. That was probably best left until he wasn’t a little mad.
Barton heaves out a sigh, letting his head fall back for a moment and his eyes slip closed. He needs a nap after this. A long one. Accompanied by four beers and a pizza with way too much cheese. But Teresa's comment chases those thoughts of his mind as he lets his eyes open once more and his head turn to look at her. She has a small, coy smile, her tone teasing and light despite all that has happened in just an hour, and some of that headache disappears.
He looks ahead, blinking a little in surprise. And then a subtle smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth.
"You know," he comments, "You're pretty hot when you're starting earthquakes too." He teases back.
"You want me to help her?" Jesse finds himself having to repeat, not trusting that he heard Steve right. He takes a step towards the man.
"Like you said, she's not a soldier," Steve replies, nodding. "What she needs is stability, a way of finding normalcy again."
"I'm not exactly normal." Jesse replies, but even his sarcasm sounds a little deflated in the wake of this.
"No," Steve smiles and shakes his head, his tone turning warm and friendly again, not exhausted and on edge. "You're not. But you're focused, patient. I saw you with Teresa, heard you talk with her, heard you open up with a complete stranger. And it calmed her down from an edge I put her on. She needs that." Steve tells him, slowly working the gloves off of his hands. "And I think /you/ need that too." Jesse swallows the lump in his throat, fighting the urge to take a few more steps towards the man.
Fighting plenty.
He clears his throat quietly and looks back to his feet, letting those words circle around his head. "So..." he begins, muddling through it all, "Does that mean I'd be here more often?"
"It could mean that. Yeah." Steve nods.
Jesse bites his lower lip for a moment. And then nods himself. "Okay."
Teresa can’t help but smile at the silence that comes from him as if he’s not sure what he had just heard or whether or not she had actually said it in the first place.
But glancing over at him and saw the subtle smirk pulling at his lips and she knew he had heard just what she had said.
If she was honest when she had moved to New York she hadn’t thought about finding anyone or even starting anything but for some reason she just seemed to click with Barton. Of course the first time she had met him he had fallen out of a window which knowing he is Hawkeye actually makes more sense as to why that had happened in the first place.
Now they were in a sexual relationship and the two of them couldn’t keep their hands off of each other when they were together. But today they were here and making sure they kept their hands off each other was definitely something they needed to do.
Of course his comment and tease really didn’t help. She chewed on her lip and then looked at him once more. Teresa turned so that her shoulder was against the wall and her eyes were on his profile before she leaned in to his ear and whispered. “I make earthquakes with you all the time” she smiled to herself once more and then turned back so that her back was against the wall once more.
She teases right in his ear, her voice little more than a whisper, and all that anxiety he'd felt this morning and all that annoyance he'd felt leading up to this moment dissolves away. But before he can much of anything about it, the doors to the elevator spread open. "Dammit." He mutters just to himself, reminded yet again of why they're here, and steps out into the hall.
Stark Tower's medical wing is not like what most would expect if they knew it existed. There aren't patients being wheeled around from room to room, nurses rushing back and forth, machines beeping endlessly like some bad daytime television series about sexy, rich doctors. It's relatively quiet. Calm. A place of learning rather than a crowded emergency room. They pass a few rooms with glass walls, spotting men and women alike in lab coats examining data and vials and microscopic samples. No patients to speak of. Just research.
Barton leads Teresa down the hall until they reach a room with its door open, really the only room with its door open, and Barton pauses to rap his knuckles on the door.
He pokes his head within, spotting a dark-haired woman seated at her desk, just sticking a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. Her brown eyes go wide when she sees him, and she hurries to swallow it down and hide the yogurt deep into a drawer with a clatter of pens and a slam. "Catch you at a bad time?" He asks, lifting his brows.
"No, no." She replies, covering her mouth, words slightly muffled. "Come in."
"I have a patient for you."
"Oh god, what did you do?" She asks, dropping her hand from her mouth and looking him over quickly and with dread.
"No. No, no, no. Not me." Barton replies, waving a hand slightly in the air to dispel that idea. But she doesn't look entirely convinced. He steps into the office and motions with his head for Teresa to follow. The doctor rises to her feet, smoothing out the black skirt she wears beneath her lab coat. "Teresa this is Layla Cho. Layla, Teresa, Teresa, Layla," he introduces, starting to feel like he's done more of that in the last couple of hours than he has in his entire life.
"Nice to meet you," Layla says quickly, throwing out a hand across her desk to shake Teresa's, but then she sees the bruises marking the other woman's hand. "Oh god." She blurts out, a little startled.
The doors to the elevator opens and she knew that she was one step closer to getting some sleep at her apartment and she would definitely forgive the doors for interrupting their teasing moment.
She follows after Barton and honestly she expected to see more nurses but there definitely wasn’t anything like that but she did see the men and women in lab coats and raised an eyebrow. It was so peaceful here that it didn’t even feel like a medical wing.
They came to the door that Barton was clearly making his way to and a female voice spoke after he did and then she as introduced to the woman. Layla. “Hi” she said with a soft smile but then the woman went to shake her hand.
Teresa didn’t even have to say anything about it because Layla then saw the bruises and was startled. Teresa wasn’t sure if that made her feel more nervous or not but she pushed that away.
Instead she held her hands up and said “Got anything strong enough to kill the pain?”
Layla stares at Teresa's hands for a long moment, her eyes big on her slender face and her lunch clearly forgotten. "Uh," she begins, looking momentarily to Barton for some sort of explanation, but the best he can do is a shake of his head and a small shrug of his shoulders. The less people they tell about this, the less likely it is to cross SHIELD's radar and raise a red flag. The last thing they need is for Teresa to be whisked off to an off-sight facility for any more tests. He trusts Layla, probably more than he's ever trusted any doctor, but some secrets are hard to keep mum. "Yeah. Yes." Layla finally nods, pulling her own hand back towards her chest and putting her attention back on Teresa. "But you should /really/ have a thorough examination. That sort of bruising usually means internal injury."
Barton looks to Teresa, letting her decide that for herself. A part of him would feel better if she did, but he can't really talk. He's limped out of here on a dislocated knee after refusing treatment.
It still pops when he strains it too much.
"Or at least let me bandage them." Layla offers instead.
Teresa didn’t think that she could explain even if she tried when it came to how her hands ended up like this. Not many people would understand what she could do and if she hadn’t shown Clint today then she doubted that he would really understand either.
Layla says about her having them examined and while she probably would’ve done just to be on the safe side she said “Maybe tomorrow would be better to look at them” right now she could feel her energy draining from her faster than she had ever experienced and Teresa was going to be heading back to her apartment and getting into her bed and sleeping the rest of the day away.
Then Layla said about bandaging them and she smiled at her “That would definitely be a lot better than the exam” she said honestly. Now she would’ve sat there and let the doc look them over but not today. Yes she was in pain but if Layla gave her strong painkillers then she might just be able to get away without having them examined today and go for the bandages instead.
"I can do that," Layla nods to her, relenting even though Barton can tell she doesn't really want to. "Please, sit." She motions towards the chair across from her at her desk, and then steps away towards the cabinets on the right-hand wall. As she digs through, pulling out the things she needs, Barton quietly closes the office door to give them a semblance of privacy.
The doctor moves back to Teresa, pulling up a squat stool to sit in front of her. "I can't give you anything too strong," she says, setting her items upon the edge of her desk -- a roll of white bandage, tape, and a small unopened blue jar. "Not without a formal examination and a diagnosis." She picks up the blue jar and holds it for Teresa to see. "But I can give you this."
Barton takes a step closer, cocking his head to the side, thinking that looks familiar.
She twists off the cap, the seal cracking as it opens. "It's an herbal ointment, made to reduce inflammation and bruising by stimulating blood vessels so they mend quicker." She explains, rubbing an index finger into the blue-tinted cream and spreading it across the bruises blossoming over Teresa's knuckles and wrists. "You only need a little bit. And then you just wrap it up, keep it warm and dry..." she sets the ointment aside, and picks up the bandages, carefully and expertly wrapping Teresa's hands, "And you'll feel nothing but a nice, cozy numbness." She smiles as she tapes the bandages down.
"You've given that to me before," Barton remembers all of a sudden, looking to her with brows furrowed.
Layla snorts, sliding the blue jar in Teresa's direction along the surface of her desk, "You're the reason I created it."
Teresa knows that this is a lot to ask and normally she probably wouldn’t have gotten away with it with other doctors but other than the four who already knows what she can do, she would rather keep it from other people. She didn’t know how they would react.
She took a seat and watched as Barton shut the door and she gave him a soft smile before putting her attention back on Layla. She seemed nice even if she wouldn’t give Teresa the good stuff but it seemed as if she had the next best thing.
The blue stuff that she rubbed into her wrist and knuckles definitely was different from anything she had ever heard of and was glad to hear that she wouldn’t feel anything but numbness especially when she needed something like that right now.
Teresa raised an eyebrow at Barton when Layla said that she had created it for him and would ask but right now the rest of the information would have to wait. Once the bandaged were taped up she took the ointment from where Layla had passed it to her and she smiled. She was more than happy to actually use this stuff especially when it sounded like it worked. “Thank you” she said really glad that she could get something to help her. “How many times do I apply it?”
“Once a day, size of a pea,” Layla replies, smiling a little more reassuringly. “And if you need a refill, just let me know. Or let Barton know.” She looks to him, nodding a little. “We have plenty to spare.” She says. Picking up her items, she returns them back to cabinet she took them from, everything organized neatly inside despite the yogurt she tossed anywhere close enough after being interrupted.
“Thanks, doc.” Barton tells her with a small smile.
“When I took this job, I didn’t expect to be kept so busy,” she admits with a bit of humor, turning back to face the pair of them. “I’ll hold you to that examination, though.” She says, tipping her chin to Teresa. “Make sure that it /is/ just bruising and nothing worse.”
Teresa was sure that she was going to be using quite a bit of this stuff especially when she woke up some mornings and there were bruises there that hadn’t been there the night before. “I’m sure Barton will find out when I’m out” she admitted with a soft smile and then put it into her bag.
She stood up and carefully put the strap of her bag over her head so that it sat against her shoulder.
Teresa couldn’t help but let a soft laugh escape her lips and she actually felt a little bad about interrupting her but it had to be done in the end. Then Layla said about the examination and Teresa nodded.
She wasn’t sure if she would get away without actually having one in the end and of course she would rather want to know if she had done any damage to her wrists or her hands. “I will definitely come by and see you for that examination” Teresa promised her.
There was no way she would break that promise.
"Good," Layla nods, seemingly satisfied with that response, or as satisfied as she can be given the present circumstances. But by now, she's no doubt dealt with Barton and his complete lack of desire to be fussed over enough to recognize the possibility of a lost cause as soon as it walks through her door. Barton is good for lowering people's expectations.
"Anyway," Barton comments, looking to Teresa, "We should get you back home. You'll need that rest."
"Yes, lots of rest!" Layla says, doctor mode reactivated. "It's always the best remedy for anything."
Barton opens the door behind him for Teresa and himself to leave through, but not before giving Layla another smile and a nod of thanks. Layla just returns it and folds her hands together in front of her. They step back out into the quiet hall and make their way once more towards the elevator, Barton feeling a little relieved that this day's adventures are over. Too much goddamn excitement. "Do you need anything else?" He asks her as they walk, "I can pick up more bandages for you, maybe even a good whiskey since she skimped you on the painkillers." He teases lightly, glancing over towards her.
Teresa wasn’t sure if she would even be able to get away without going to see Layla mostly because of the fact that she wanted to know what the vibrations were doing to her hands and definitely her wrists, she wasn’t sure she would be able to tell Layla just what was causing her the damages.
“I’m pretty sure I will be doing some of that” she said around a smile. Teresa actually was exhausted from doing that so she would definitely need the sleep.
She gave Layla a soft smile and held a hand up in a gentle wave before walking out the room. Barton spoke to her and she couldn’t help but let a soft laugh escape her mouth.
“I think I’m going to need all of the above” Teresa admitted in a soft tease. The whiskey was definitely going to be needed, whether it was now or later... she was going to need something to calm her down a bit more especially after what happened today. More than that she wanted to just have a moment where everything was normal and drinking with Barton definitely counted at normal. “But what makes you think you’re taking me home?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk pulling at her lips.
Barton stops at the elevator, tapping the button and turning to face Teresa with a wry smile on his lips. “I never said anything about /me/ taking you home,” he tells her as they wait, amused. “Just merely offering an escape and my delivery services.” He teases lightly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning a shoulder into the wall beside the doors.
For a woman with her hands freshly bandaged and the stress of the afternoon still on her face, she seems to be in a fairly good mood — that smirk and her earlier teases betraying the fact that maybe Cap didn’t screw up as badly as Barton’s overactive worry wants to think. But that doesn’t mean he’d say no if she did ask him to help her home. He’s not a big enough dick to slam a cab door on her and let her find her own way if that’s not what she wants.
“Unless you’d like me to take you home.” He adds on, just as wryly, leaning off of the wall when the doors to the elevator open for them.
Teresa watched as he pressed the button for the elevator and kept her eyebrow raised when Barton spoke before she huffed out a soft laugh once more. “Oh so like my own personal errand boy then?” She asked before chewing on her lip gently.
If she was honest there hasn’t been a time when they haven’t been in the others bed or apartment so it would be a little strange of her to shut the door on him now and it’s not like Teresa blames him in any way shape or form. Things happened today and with help she can get better.
That meant no more bruises on her hands or wrists and control over what she can do.
He leans off the wall when the doors open and she follows him into the elevator. Her eyes forward as the doors close before she casually says “It wouldn’t be a terrible thing if you took me home” she looks over at him and grins.
Teresa was more than happy for him to take her home.
"Something like that," Barton smiles, bouncing his head side to side as he allows that interpretation. Though he did walk himself right into that one. It wouldn't necessarily be the first time. Nat is gone more often than she isn't, and with a little apartment in the East Village and a stray cat that keeps wandering into her place, someone has to water the plants and collect the bills and leave a bowl of kitty food out.
For a hard ass, Nat sure has a soft side.
The elevator doors close, and they begin their descent back to the lobby floor a long way down. He slides his eyes to look at her through their corners, seeing that grin on her face. A smile of his own finds its way to his lips once more.
"Maybe I will, then." He replies, teasingly, putting his eyes forward and shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly.
The rest of the ride down to the ground floor was actually a lot more quiet between the two of them. Whether she stole glances at him was another thing but honestly she liked the relationship that they had. It wasn’t anything complicated but it definitely was fun.
They spent most of their time in each other’s beds when the other wasn’t working and with Teresa knowing what he does things were a little easier.
The doors opened at the ground level and once back at the reception she handed over the pass and took her phone back and said a soft goodbye to the woman there but she knew she would be back again at some point.
Once they left the building the heat hit her and honestly it was something that she was starting to hate. New York was definitely a lot hotter now than it was this morning if that was even possible.
“So,” she said looking over at Barton “your place or mine?”
Aisha smiles at the pair of them when they stop by her desk to return the pass, bright-eyed as always. But the smile falters a little as her gaze catches the bandages wrapped tightly around Teresa's hands, a flicker of worry crossing her face. Yet rather than asking, she simply passes over the phone, wishes them both a good rest of their day, and returns to her work as if she had seen nothing.
That is exactly why she she's the one allowing access to the more secretive floors.
They step out into the heatwave, Barton squinting his blue eyes against the blazing sun reflecting off the top of every single car rumbling past. The air is sweltering, making his skin prickle with the intensity of it, but all he can think is /welcome to New York in the summer/. If it's not a blizzard, it's a fucking hell.
He flags down a cab with a wave of his hand, and one pulls over alongside the curb to meet them after a few seconds. He glances to Teresa as he pulls open the door to the backseat, the wry smile remaining on his lips. "I'll leave that decision up to you."
Teresa watched the cab at the curb side and she bit on her lip gently. Other than sleep and maybe some food she didn’t have no reason really to go back to her apartment. Other than Stiles when he occasionally popped back and Jackson knocking on the door no one visited so she didn’t have a need to go home just yet.
She scoffed and then shook her head before she got into the backseat of the cab. There was only one place she had time to be right now.
She gave the address to the driver and then watched as Barton got in with her.
She grinned at him.
They ended up outside of his apartment a while later and she chewed on her lip when he was opening the door.
“I didn’t have any reason to head home just yet so your place it was” she grinned at him softly.
It doesn't take him long to figure out where Teresa chose to spend the rest of her day. As soon as they turn towards the Brooklyn Bridge, he gives her a knowing look, His apartment sits square in Bed-Stuy -- not one of the most attractive neighborhoods, but cheap and discreet and easily to get lost in. And Barton has never really been a man of luxury to begin with.
His building is a four-story brownstone on the corner of Lafayette and Marcy, right across the street from a sunny park. The cab lets them out right next to his downstairs neighbor's white Beetle, and Barton climbs the steps with Teresa behind them to unlock the front door. "My place it is," he teases in return, amused by the grin stretching her lips.
They climb to the fourth level and the second door down the hall to apartment H; his apartment. He tugs out his keys to unlock the door and lets Teresa step through first, before following in after.
Lucky is immediately up and trotting towards them, his shaggy tail wagging and his tongue lolling and his one good eye bright and happy even though he's had to leave the cold air blowing from the fan. The mixed-mutt greets Teresa first before bounding towards Barton and playfully chasing around his feet as Barton moves to toss his keys and wallet onto the kitchen counter (a counter that is /clean/ he'd like to point out, but doesn't.)
Teresa walked into his apartment and then smiled down at Lucky when he came over. She gently crouched down and scratched behind his ear as best as she could with her hands. Honestly she felt like this was a safe zone.
Here she hadn’t made it shake, there was no sign of her breaking something. It was like if she went home then she would have to face reality of what she could do and she didn’t want that right now.
She stood up straight when Lucky bounded toward Barton and she looked around the place. Something was different but she couldn’t put her finger on it. There was definitely something wrong with the place. Maybe her new abilities actually opened her up a bit more but either way she knew there was something.
They ended up back at his apartment more times than her own when it came to the sexual relationship that they were having. But that didn’t stop her from staying the night or making coffee for him or anything else.
Teresa gently took the bag off of her shoulder before heading over to the couch and falling back on it.
She wasn’t sure if it was the heat making her that more exhausted or whether her energy had depleted more in the time it took them to get from Stark Tower to his apartment.
There was a question that she wanted to ask and she finally looked over at him with a soft smile and said “Were you worried?” She watched him “back at Stark Tower when I was down in that room making it shake? Did you worry about me?” Teresa wasn’t sure why she was asking but she definitely did want to know.
His apartment betrays two things about him in just a single glance; one, that he's a bachelor who's main staples of life are beer, coffee, and fast food; and two, that he's very, /very/ rarely here for more than a couple nights at a time. His furniture is fairly sparse and spread out, a couch sitting against a wall, a cheap TV mounted haphazardly on the opposite side, a rug he got from a yard sale spread across the floor, twin bookshelves that only have maybe a dozen books spread between them that he's only just started collecting. His small kitchen island acts as his dining table, a few bar-stools tucked beneath the lip (from an actual bar he'd like to add, beer stains and carved names and all) and a closed box of pizza sitting atop the trash can. His bedroom resides on the second level right above the kitchen, plain black metal stairs leading up to it on the left hand side of the apartment, where he's also only got the basic amenities of a bed and a dresser and not much else.
But what's odd about the apartment is not the /lack/ of personal touches. It's the ones that he's included. On the far side opposite the door, two human-shaped targets sit between the two windows overlooking the street below, stuck with arrows and riddled in very precise holes -- a series of which spell out /fuck/. A punching bag hangs from the same corner, a couple arrows poking out of it as well, revealing just how long its been since he's really used it. And then there's the purple curtain. Covering no windows, no openings, no hidden rooms. But still closed tightly.
Lucky trots off to lay stretched out in front of the fan once more, panting at the heat that even closed, shaded windows can't keep out. Barton leans a hip against the island and crosses his arms over his chest, turning his eyes back towards Teresa at her question. After all the teasing and the grins, he hadn't expected her to ask a question like that. Especially when talking isn't usually their go-to source of entertainment as soon as that door closes. But he can see the exhaustion written across her face and the way she slumps on the couch, looking ready to curl up and go to sleep and forget this morning.
To tell the truth, he feels the same way.
He clears his throat and glances down for a moment. "I did," he admits, bobbing his head. "I didn't want you to be in pain."
Teresa looks over at him leaning against the island and she chews on her lip. Today had definitely been one of those confusing days where she either wants to forget about it or she wants to remember the parts that were interesting.
Like: she ended up at Stark Tower. The building that likes to tower over everything, she met captain America, Stiles will be so jealous, she found out that Hawkeye was in fact then guy she was sleeping with, that she had an ability and met a kid that calmed her down. Today can’t be too bad right?
But did all of that really take away the whole pain in her knuckles thing? Or the fact that she could have hairline fractures? Either way today was definitely something that she’s sure she won’t forget in a while.
“I’m more tired than in pain right now” she admitted. Although she could pretty much imagine just how bad that she could feel. Maybe Teresa should’ve headed home and gone straight to bed because once she was on this couch there is no way that she would be able to move from it.
“I’m taking your couch” she said in a soft tease and slid her feet out of her shoes and laid down on his couch.
There were other things she wanted to say but she wasn’t sure if they should be said. It sounded too needy... to... personal.
She lays down upon his couch -- spreading out across the cushions, kicking her shoes off, giving in to the exhaustion he can't blame her for having -- and Barton smiles softly as he watches her. Despite the very straight forward nature of their relationship and the very clear boundaries they've set without really saying much at all, there's something a little nice about seeing her here, like this, relaxed and at ease. Maybe it has everything to do with their hectic day at Stark Tower, his anxiety finding relief in knowing that she hasn't run off screaming down the street or threatened to call the cops on any of them. But despite all the teasing that led them here, he actually thinks he prefers this outcome more than the suggested.
He leans off of the counter and moves towards the couch where she lays, picking up her feet so he can sit on the cushions beneath them and then setting them back down on his lap. "I can share." He replies, smiling towards her. And then, a little more sarcastically, "Especially since there is nowhere else to sit."
He reaches over the edge of the couch to grab the remote for the TV from the middle shelf of the bookcase on his right, and switches on the TV. He turns the volume down low to just a murmur and flips through the stations looking for anything he can stand to watch for a little while. "Any requests?" He asks.
He moves over to the couch and honestly today was just full of surprises. If she’s honest they had never been like this with each other. They were always too eager to get the other out of their clothes and share some heat but this.. this was comfortable and personal and honestly Teresa didn’t care.
He put her feet over his legs and is smiling at her saying how he can share and she smiled back at him, tiredly, before she set her brown eyes on the tv when he put it on.
“I don’t think it’s going to matter because I’m going to be asleep in minutes and if you want to lie with me then that’s fine” she admitted and chewed on her lip. Teresa didn’t mind if he wanted to lay with her in fact she was more than happy to just cuddle up with him.
Yes that was personal and definitely something that they hadn’t talked about but they can forgo that for now.
“Unless you would rather watch the tv...”
He looks to her, hearing the tiredness in her voice grow deeper in just the few moments she's been laying here. The couch, despite its hand-me-down appearance, is probably one of the most comfortable ones he's ever had in his entire life. Though that might just be bias. Barton, most days, is an insomniac by force. His job comes with far too many sleepless nights or sleepless /weeks/, so when he does finally come crawling back to this apartment, climbing up the stairs seems like too massive of a trek. The Mount Everest of quests. He's slept here more times than he can count, sprawled out haphazardly across the cushions, a dog bundled atop his chest, a leg dangling off.
It's easy to fall asleep here. And even easier to fall asleep for /hours/.
"You make a tempting offer." Barton replies in a murmur, seeing nothing of value on TV anyway. Not that he watches much of it anyway. He turns it off, and tosses the remote elsewhere. Lifting her feet from his lap once more, he twists and moves to fit in the space between her and the back cushions of the couch, head resting upon the arm comfortably and arm falling to drape around her waist.
Of course she makes a tempting offer, she too could see that he was tired and even though it might not be anywhere near three in the afternoon the two of them have had an exciting morning and maybe putting sleep between that and now would be better.
He moved her feet and she felt him moving up behind her and she felt his arm drape around her waist and she looked up at him and chewed on her lip.
He was a little bit higher than her with his head on the arm of the couch and she moved her own to lean against one arm while her hands gently settled on his other that was at her waist. This definitely wasn’t the first time she had been close to him and she doubted it would be the last but laying here like this made her feel safe as if she could pretend that her new abilities were a person after her rather than a thing inside of her.
She closed her brown eyes up and just let the silence hit her as she laid there in his arms.
They sleep through the rest of the day and into the night, exhaustion catching up with the both of them and dragging them deep under. Despite the heatwave, the warmth of Teresa pressed against his chest makes it hard to want to wake even as light begins to stream in through the slots of his windows. He continues to lay there with her, eyes and limbs heavy with slumber.
That is, until a tongue swipes across his face.
He wakes, startled by the sudden wet and the cold nose prodding at his chin, and blinks his eyes open to find Lucky staring right back at him, breathing hot dog breath. "Go 'way," he says, voice muffled by sleep and the couch cushion, and he swipes a hand lazily towards the dog to push the mutt away. But Lucky dodges the slow palm, wags his wag, and barks right in his face. "Agh, /shit/." Barton huffs, clapping his hand over his ear as the sudden noise sends his hearing aid into a ringing fit. "/Shh/." He hisses.
Lucky licks him again, runs around to the front of the couch, and jumps on both him and Teresa impatiently, both body shaking with the force of his own excited tail.
Teresa clearly had exhausted herself out because she had only expected to sleep til the night and then head home so she was a little surprised when she had slept through the night and into the next morning.
She had been comfortable enough laying with Barton, his arm around her and her hands against his arm, her head against his other arm and her cuddled up against his chest.
That was until she was jumped on and it woke her up with a force that she opened her eyes and looked into the face of Lucky who had decided to jump on the both of them.
“Good morning” she said with a soft smile and then went to smooth him and realised the pain was back in her hands and sighed softly.
Teresa moved her brown eyes away from the dog and up to see that barton was indeed awake. She gave him a soft smile. “Good morning to you as well” she chewed on her lip.
She had spent the whole night in his arms and yet that didn’t seem to bother her, in fact she actually felt relieved that she was still in them rather than him sitting up or anything else.
Clearly they both needed the sleep.
As soon as Teresa speaks, Lucky licks her across the face, adding even more drool to this situation. But he excitedly jumps off now that his work is done, running off in a flurry of hair towards the kitchen. Not two seconds later, Barton hears his dog-bowl getting pushed around the wooden floor, a clear request. "Morning." He replies to Teresa, huffing out a slight laugh that sounds more pained than amused. He wipes the drool from his face with the back of his forearm, and then swipes a thumb across her cheek too. "Apparently we overslept." He sighs a little.
Lucky barks again, impatiently.
"Goddammit." Barton huffs, "Excuse me." He slides his arm out from underneath Teresa and expertly maneuvers his way off the couch without pushing her off as well, rising groggily to his feet. "I'm coming, I'm coming." He calls out to the damn dog, shuffling his way towards the kitchen. Lucky waits, tail going a mile a minute, throwing dog hair everywhere. Barton grabs the container of kibbles from his pantry closet, filling the purple bowl halfway. Lucky is already devouring it before Barton can even pull the container away.
"You want anything?" He says over to Teresa, putting the dog food away and grabbing eggs from the fridge. He spoils this mutt more than he should. "I have..." he glances within his refrigerator, trying to piece together anything that might make an actual meal. "Orange juice." Is all he comes up with, "And it's probably expired."
“Lucky...” she huffs out in a soft laugh when he swipes his tongue over her face and she shakes her head. That dog clearly doesn’t know about personal space but seeing as she was cuddled up against his owner then personal space was probably out of the question right now.
“I can see that” she said through a smile. If Teresa was being honest there wasn’t any way she could’ve woken up last night because of the fact that she had been exhausted to the point where moving and even waking up would have been impossible. He moved his thumb across her cheek to get rid of the slobber and she watched him.
Teresa nodded when he excused himself and then moved out from underneath her. It felt weird to be on the couch on her own now but she didn’t say that, instead she watched him move towards the kitchen and feed his dog.
“Nah, I’ll grab breakfast on the way home to change and shower” she admitted and then sat up. This was actually the first time she had stayed at his apartment and it hadn’t been because of them having sex, though there was still time she guessed.
“Your couch really is comfortable” she said and then moved her feet off of the cushions and put them on the ground.
Barton cracks an egg into a pan, cooking it sunny-side-up for his loud, obnoxious, sleep-ruining dog. But even though he's annoyed and most of all /tired/, he can't imagine not having Lucky do morning wake-ups and lounging belly up on the couch and waiting patiently for him to come home every night. As stupid and cliche as it sounds, and as much as Nat would argue against it, Lucky really his best friend. Dumb enough to stick around with a moron like Barton but smart enough to make sure the both of them /eat/.
Barton glances towards Teresa and nods a little, trying not to let the sliver of disappointment he feels all of a sudden show on his face. He looks back to the pan, pushing the egg around with a spatula. "Planning on actually going to that appointment?" He asks her, turning off the stovetop. Lucky's floppy ears perk up, his one good eye suddenly focused right on him.
He scoops the egg into the bowl, and Lucky doesn't even wait for it to cool down before he's practically inhaling it.
"Or is Stark Tower on your /to avoid/ list?" Barton adds on a little jokingly, turning towards the sink to scrub the pan down.
If she was honest she had completely forgotten about the appointment that she had promised with the doctor the day before, she guessed that was down to the fact that she had slept the whole of yesterday and this morning.
She moved off of the couch and made her way over to the island before pulling a stool out and sitting on it. Her eyes on Barton when he put the egg into the dogs bowl.
Nothing surprises her about Lucky. If that dog can eat pizza then clearly he can eat an egg too.
Her eyes move back to Barton when he joked with her. “It is...” she said playing along. “Along with here, though I’m failing at that, anywhere I can really get hot... so that means most of New York is on that list too” she smirks at him.
“I think I want to see just what damage I’ve done to my wrists and fingers” she admitted after a moment. “But I think I’m scared to find out”
Barton snorts quietly, setting the pan into the dish rack by the sink that's mostly filled with recently washed mugs and little else. He turns to face her, drying off his hands with a towel and smiling a little softer when she gets more honest rather than teasing, and nods a little.
"That's always a scary thing," he admits. For someone who's never really liked doctors or hospitals, he's constantly getting himself thrown their direction. He can't count the number of bones he's broken, or the number of scars he has, or how many times SHIELD has footed his medical bills. Being Hawkeye means going to work every night and wondering if he's going to lose an eye this time.
Or worse,
"But it's better to know," he adds, a little sympathetically, "And really. Layla is great. She knows what she's doing and she knows how to help."
Teresa knew that with the right person then she would be alright to finding out just what she had done to her hands but even so it didn’t matter because once she found out she would always have that in her head.
She watched as he dried his hands off and she gave a soft smile before chewing on her lip. Layla might be great but it was Teresa who would be hurting herself over and over again.
“I’m sure she is” she finally said and nodded before she looked down and away.
“Thanks for letting me crash here although you didn’t have a choice because I fell asleep”
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Post by Ray on Jul 18, 2018 17:48:46 GMT -7
"There," Layla says, voice soft, as she carefully draws the needle from his skin. She's quick to press a small square of gauze to the crook of his arm, pressing a firm thumb down and reaching over to set the needle upon a metal tray, "All set." Jesse sets his own hand over the gauze without her having to prompt him, routine and years of doing this turning it more into habit now. He smiles faintly at the woman as she pulls away, throwing the needle into the trash can and her gloves with it.
"Thanks," he murmurs.
"You know, I've met Orisa a few times," Layla says as she cleans up her desk, scooting her stool back where it resides and closing her carefully organized drawers. "She's told me about you." She smiles warmly. Jesse tries to match it, but knows he fails. It's uncomfortable enough sitting in this chair with a complete stranger, no matter how nice she is. It's even worse trying to make small talk after getting a check up from her. "Never told me how handsome you are, though." Layla continues, rounding her desk to its other side. Jesse huffs out a slight breath through his nostrils, and looks down, stands of his black hair falling into his face. "Sorry. You must get that a lot. Especially from well-meaning older women." She teases a little.
"At least you didn't pinch my cheeks." Jesse retorts, glancing back up.
"I'll save that for next time." Layla winks. Jesse bobs his head a little, still trying to get used to the idea that being here at Stark Tower, spending days at a time like this, might become more commonplace. It feels like a dream fourteen-year old him dreamed up one of those nights he thought about what the future might hold. But even he was never so optimistic to think that Captain America would be behind it all. "And I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. You just remind me of my younger brother. He's got that rebellious look in his eyes too," Layla comments, crossing her arms over top each other on her desk, "Though it looks far more genuine on you. He's a business major with a Mazda, what does he know about rebellion."
Jesse laughs slightly, a little surprised with how candid she is. Most people are so weary with him. Especially here, in this place, with these people. But she's treating him like any kid coming off the street for an appointment. Like she has no idea what kind of people are likely to walk these halls. "Does he listen to the Beatles and call it real music?" He teases in reply.
"All the time." Layla smiles a little more, clearly pleased by the reaction she got. Jesse returns it, a little easier this time. "Let me know if you need anything else, okay? My door is always open."
"Yeah," Jesse nods and rises to his feet, tossing the slip of gauze into the trash can. "Thanks."
"And Jesse," she says before he can turn away, and he looks to her, pressing his brows close, "Everything in here is confidential. I promise."
He smiles softly and nods once more, letting those words ease a little of the tension that had been riding his shoulders. He turns away and steps to the door, fixing the hem of his red t-shirt as he does. He steps out into the hall, closing the door behind him, and exhales a slow breath.
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