Phil had left active service a few months ago. He's seen some combat and he's gotten through it all relatively unscathed and with enough money to go to school. He was now attending the local state college. He wasn't quite sure of his major yet, but he was planning to apply to the FBI when he was finished. Life was going pretty well for him, actually. He was on-track to get where he wanted to be going
( ... )
Clint figured he was not the scared looking eighteen year old that Phil had known years back.
The man had found himself cowering in the corner of the room he was in. Instead of out right searching. The moment he had dropped into the room he felt as if he had bad the wrong choice. He wasn't a good thing to put in anyone's life right now. Clint peered up at him from where he was, brow arching a tad bit as he did. Really? A bat? He didn't know how that would work. Part of the reason why he came there is because he didn't know Phil well enough to save him. He knew him well enough to kill him however. He was researching the different ways when he had the chance because there looked like there were absolutely no options to cure him of what was happening to him. "Phil...?" Clint's voice broke out from where he was hiding before slipping to his feet. "This was the only place I could go...I didn't have anywhere else to go..."
God please do not smack him with a fucking bat, Coulson.
And it was the voice had Phil lowering his arm, grip slackening. Recognition passed over his face quickly.
"Clint?" The bat dropped to the floor. "Have you not heard of this handy thing called the front door? I tend to answer it without the bat, unlike a second story window. Are you insane?" He moved closer. "I could have hurt you." This wasn't the best neighborhood, so, yeah, Phil kept a bat in his room. There had been a few break ins lately, although they'd all used entrances on the first floor. Fucking circus kids were crazy.
"Look at you." He smiled. "How long has it been?" He held out his arms for a hug.
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The man had found himself cowering in the corner of the room he was in. Instead of out right searching. The moment he had dropped into the room he felt as if he had bad the wrong choice. He wasn't a good thing to put in anyone's life right now. Clint peered up at him from where he was, brow arching a tad bit as he did. Really? A bat? He didn't know how that would work. Part of the reason why he came there is because he didn't know Phil well enough to save him. He knew him well enough to kill him however. He was researching the different ways when he had the chance because there looked like there were absolutely no options to cure him of what was happening to him. "Phil...?" Clint's voice broke out from where he was hiding before slipping to his feet. "This was the only place I could go...I didn't have anywhere else to go..."
God please do not smack him with a fucking bat, Coulson.
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"Clint?" The bat dropped to the floor. "Have you not heard of this handy thing called the front door? I tend to answer it without the bat, unlike a second story window. Are you insane?" He moved closer. "I could have hurt you." This wasn't the best neighborhood, so, yeah, Phil kept a bat in his room. There had been a few break ins lately, although they'd all used entrances on the first floor. Fucking circus kids were crazy.
"Look at you." He smiled. "How long has it been?" He held out his arms for a hug.
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