Fic: Now I'm Ready to Start 2/2
This is the prompt: So when Clint and Natasha come back from missions or being in the field, be it with the Avengers or SHIELD, they need to transition from the mindset of being out in the field to that of being safe/home/whatever. Generally this goes a lot more smoothely if there's someone they trust there to give them gentle orders/guidelines/directions like 'eat dinner, get some sleep,' whatever, for anywhere between a few hours to a few days, depending on how long/intense the mission was...
Let me know if you come across any glaring errors, or terrible writing, or another fucking use of the word "though" (seriously). Any concrit is welcome. Chances are you'll be able to see where I transition from having reread the intro 5,000 times to my last few bits of 'just finish, oh god, so close, just finish'. Sorry and I love you?
Title from the song Ready to Start by Arcade Fire (with highly contested lyrics!)
Now I'm Ready to Start
Pepper had returned to the suite to help Steve with morning prep. Both Clint and Natasha had slept for eight hours. Natasha straight and Clint with some thrashing that calmed when Steve had stood next to him, hand on his shoulder and trying his best to make soothing noises. They’d both awoken at the click of Pepper opening the door, rolling out of bed and arming themselves in fractionately less time than to assess her as not a threat and disarm.
Pepper had only stumbled a little, trying to cover it by saying cheerfully, “Good morning.” Natasha nodded to her as she walked past, entered the bathroom and shut the door. Four minutes later she returned, even nodded to acknowledge Clint as he took his turn. It said something about how accustomed he’d become to his strange new life that he felt proud at seeing it. And, too, “Did you brush your teeth Natasha?”
More progress, she said, “Yes.” Clint had brushed his teeth unprompted as well.
Without pulling in Fury or Hill, which the team had decided was an all around Bad Idea, sleep schedules were going to be completely jacked before a full twenty-four hours were up. Steve was pretty sure that he and Thor could handle an extended sleepless stretch but Bruce looked ready to drop at the breakfast table. Popular vote had decided that they would all do their best to attend meals together, but afterwards he had a date with his bedroom.
There had been a moment, when the two agents realized no one was patrolling that had seemed almost touch and go. Thor had calmed them, saying gently, “I just completed a sweep of this floor. Both Bruce and I need to eat and then take our rest, the next patrol will begin soon. Until then, JARVIS is scanning.” Simple, direct, and he’d smoothly delivered them into their seats at the same time. The god was full of surprises.
They were still in the borrowed pajamas, because no one had figured out a great solution to the clothing issue yet. Steve was just the side of emotionally tired that he hadn’t asked if they were hungry, if they had food allergies, nothing. He put a bowl of oatmeal down in front of each of his teammates and dug in to his own. There were enough people in the room that could figure out explaining spoons if this was an issue.
They did fine, eating their entire serving, and Steve was idling trying to figure out the best way to reword, “Do you want more?” when Tony took the initiative.
“Should you eat more?” It was almost an open ended question, as what criteria decided should versus should not? The drive they were basing things off of was, “What do you need to do to stay alive?” They had eaten enough to do that. It shouldn’t have worked the way Tony wanted, but enough had shifted overnight that Clint, voice still a little rusty, said, “Yes.”
Bruce refilled their bowls before deciding that talking like they weren’t there was rude but going to be his best bet to getting out of there quicker. “Plan for today, Captain?”
It wasn’t much of one, but he put Tony and Pepper on patrol, a whispered sorry for taking her from work still more. Otherwise, “Relaxing. Thought maybe a movie or two before lunch. Then reassessing. Go ahead and get some sleep, Bruce.”
He had no idea what they would normally do in their free time, but for lack of a better idea he led them to the lounge and asked JARVIS to queue up one of the movies Tony had listed as Must See. He sat on the couch and looked up to see one of his charges standing in front of him on either side. He thought about all the things he could have said, and went with, “Sit next to me.” He grabbed a hand, pulling gently for each of them. They went down easily, Natasha refusing to let go of his hand and resting her head on the outside of his shoulder. Clint let go when Steve opened his hand, but after an infinitesimal pause picked it up again long enough to pull Steve’s arm over his shoulder, tucking in so his head rested on his other shoulder.
It was…unexpected. They looked comfortable, but he asked, “All settled?” He got a twincast, “Yes” which was a little eerie sounding. The room was dark and cool, the screen brightly lighting the title on pause, and he decided to go with it. “Okay, let’s start the movie JARVIS.”
He was asleep before he’d figured out who was supposed to be the main character. He woke to Natasha poking him in the shoulder after the movie was back to the opening screen. He looked blearily at her as she pointed to the screen.
“Oh, oh. Sorry. Wanna watch another?” He slurred, before freezing, instantly awake, remembering the night before. She just said, “Yes.” He hated to push, he did, but he still turned to Clint. “How about you, Clint, do you want to watch another?” He had to wait for a second, and he was ready to berate himself internally when he got the answer, “Yes.”
The next movie started, ostensibly a sequel that was going to leave him hopelessly lost but he was happy realizing that he’d only gotten verbal answers so far that morning. They were responding to more complex questions and situations. He didn’t have a time frame but he had evidence they were on their way back to normal.
He related his observations over lunch, while thinking Bruce should have taken more than five hours of sleep. He still had shadows under his eyes. What with the impromptu movie snuggling, his own nap had been enough to get him through another long stretch.
“Sure you don’t want to go back to bed?” No one pointed out that he’d asked in the same gentle voice he’d been using with Clint and Natasha.
“No,” Bruce answered, smiling and voice to match, “I want to know how the movie watching went.”
He directed it at Steve, so everyone was surprised when Clint said, “Good.” He actually got Tony’s mouth to gape. Natasha turned to look at him, but only to nod and add, “Liked them.” There was a silent, stunned moment, before Thor gave a snort of laughter.
Steve joined him. The two agents slide their gazes to catch each other’s eyes and then shifted slightly closer together. Steve managed to get his laughter under control, realizing that in their current state, they couldn’t tell that the laughter was relief.
“It’s okay, you guys. We’re just glad you liked the movies,” Tony reassured them, voice the same patient one he’d been using since last night. He had some hits or misses, but overall Steve had been impressed with how he handled himself.
Still, the upset from the confusion of why the team had acted so out of the ordinary reduced the two back to yes/no answers for the rest of the day. Steve clued into the regression when he asked them, after finishing lunch, if they wanted to watch more movies. Clint’s bottom lip made it’s way between his teeth and Natasha, still barefoot, curled her toes against the hardwood floor. Tony was beside Natasha, and turned in an instant, hand on her shoulder and repeating what he’d said to Clint the night before, “No worries, we’re all friends here.”
Bruce was closer to Clint, and while he had heard about the night before he couldn’t see this for what it was, particularly so soon after the success of the previous movie question, and he followed Tony’s lead and put a hand on Clint’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s all okay. We don’t have to watch movies if you don’t want.”
Clint pulled away, throat making a painful clicking noise that Steve attributed to trying to keep quiet. He stepped up, moving to Clint’s side so he wouldn’t feel boxed in. They’d managed to avoid bloodshed so far and he was hoping to keep that streak going. “No, it’s not that Bruce. I think we’re just pushing a bit too much too soon. Can’t make it about want right now.”
Bruce nodded, kept his hand on Clint’s shoulder and said, “I’m putting my favorite movie on. I’d really like it if everyone joined me, but I’ll let Steve decide that.” He finished with a few casual pats, before exiting the room. Steve wasn’t exactly happy about the way Bruce worded that, but it made sense. He’d been directing them since the night before and it was working. They both turned to look at him.
“Come on, we’ll watch with Bruce and then go for a jog in the gym before dinner.” He sat down in the middle of the couch, again, and pulled them down to sit next to him, but they sat there eerily still. He debated himself, trying to decide between if he was taking advantage of their vulnerable state or if their prior behavior should be considered as what they wanted.
“I can hear you thinking all the way over here, Cap. You heard them last night, they wouldn’t be doing a damn thing Sitwell suggested. They trust us enough to go off emergency mode, so trust yourself.” With that, Tony finished sweeping the room and went through to the next to continue his patrol.
It was as simple as that. It was as terribly complex as that. Steve tucked Natasha up against one side, threw his arm around Clint on the other side, and went so far as to keep holding each of their hands throughout. He even stayed awake this time.
It was four in the afternoon by the time they walked down five flights of stairs to get to the gym. They passed Pepper switching from one floor to the next, and she gave a professional nod to the group before putting her eyes back to sweeping the stairwell. Steve was impressed to begin with, but the fact that neither Natasha nor Clint tracked her to make sure she continued to do well put him in a better mood.
“We’re just going to jog, guys. Tony liberated another set of pajamas for each of you, so after this we’ll eat and then try our hands at another bath.” He wasn’t asking questions and they weren’t offering opinions, but some of the wariness seemed to leave their eyes when they knew exactly what to expect. So he kept up the patter and pace so they all had an easy gait. At first.
As he fell into his routine they all began to pick up steam. By the time the alarm he’d asked JARVIS to set for dinner went off, they were all red-faced and sweaty. He grabbed three waters and opened the lids for each without thought. As they steadily drank it down, he contemplated them.
“Well, dinner is ready now. We’ll all three take a pass and eat a little grubby.”
It wasn’t a question, but Natasha still said, “Yes.” Steve smiled at her, clapped Clint on the back, and took the stairs two at a time on the way up. He was halfway to the next floor before he realized they were walking gingerly up behind him. He narrowed his gaze at their bare feet, irritation at his own lack of focus coloring the words.
“Have you ever run barefoot before?” They both stopped, looked up at him, and, thankfully, didn’t quite manage to sync up their “Yes” this time. Hating the thought of their looks turning wary, Steve pushed through to make his voice even.
“That long, that fast?” They both only shook their heads, but their gazes didn’t change. He’d have to talk it over with the others, see if he was missing something from this exchange. In the meantime, he tried to put a smile behind his eyes, hoping they recognized rueful when they saw it.
“Feet a little tender?” He didn’t wait for them to answer, adding, “I’ll walk slower.”
If anyone noticed the softer steps as the three of them walked in, no one mentioned it. Instead, they did bring up the state of their clothing. Tony’s eyes narrowed to make a comment but Pepper managed to actually speak before him.
“Wow, you three are a little gross. Sit on that side of the table, thanks. We’ll have a bath after dinner.”
Tony let himself leer a little at her, “Will we?” She just slanted him the same look from last night. He threw his hands up in the international symbol for surrender. For three seconds, before slanting a considering look across the table at Clint and Natasha. Still, his voice came out almost hesitant.
“Did you guys have a good afternoon?” Everyone waited to gauge how well they were doing now. Natasha ducked her head, a movement none of them had seen before that would have made Tony’s heart stop if it weren’t hooked up to a super battery. Clint once again surprised them, though, by reaching out to tap Natasha’s hand twice with his first two fingers. She looked over at him, the longest eye contact they’d given each other since battling Loki. Then they turned to look at Tony in unison, both saying, “Yes.”
No one said it out loud, but it was pretty obvious everyone still found that disconcerting. It was not easing up with time and familiarity.
Since the two didn’t seem to mind or backslide like this afternoon, Tony pushed them a little harder. Steve thought about cutting him off, just accepting what they had now rather than risk it, but he held his tongue, barely, as Tony kept on.
“What did you do today?” Patient and even, Pepper moving to rest an arm on Tony’s shoulder like he was working just as hard as they were too.
Natasha didn’t hesitate this time, and Steve was sure that Tony deserved the swell of pride that came across his face when she said, “Watched a movie with Bruce.”
And Clint might have dropped eye contact to the side, not quite going so far as Natasha’s ducked head, but he still added, “Ran with Steve.”
Everyone moderated their responses, treating this as delicately as it had proved to be, but Bruce nodded approvingly, and Thor smiled at them broadly.
“I was happy to have the company,” Steve told them, before turning back to his food and letting Tony tell Bruce where he’d left off in rounds. They made the switch easily after dinner and once again Tony, Pepper, and Steve led Clint and Natasha to Tony’s master bath.
This time, they were barely in the room before the two began to reach for the bottom hems of their pajama tops. Steve couldn’t quite stop his automatic response of slight panic, turning his, “Whoa-” into a weirdly structured sentence with, “-teeth brushing first.” It came out somewhat like a reprimand, and he held his breath to see how they would respond.
Fingers dropped the cloth, Natasha with a small flutter before moving her hands away, but they walked over to the sinks and began the process of brushing their teeth. No one had been in the bathroom with them that morning, so it was quietly revealing to them to see both Natasha and Clint mimic their teeth cleaning of the previous night. Even to Clint tapping a finger against his chin before opening up to bring the bristles to his teeth.
Steve turned to Tony and Pepper, saying very softly, “It makes sense. Their other actions have been fall back behavior. Routine. They just added this as another routine to follow.”
Once Clint finished by patting his face dry, they turned to look at Pepper. Apparently whatever had prompted them to start to strip when they first walked in had faded, or Steve had unintentionally wiped that pattern away with his sharp response, but not even, “Get undressed,” prompted them to touch their tops. Pepper and Tony made quick work of getting the pajamas off and then led their charges up to and into the bath.
This time went without incident, no stumbles or accidental set backs. They were out, toweled off and into the fresh pajamas efficiently. The dresser top held their now laundered under clothes, but Pepper decided they’d go ahead and let them be fresh the next morning.
Steve started to direct them into bed by route, but Tony cut him off, like always, almost reflexively. “Will you guys sleep if you get into bed now?” They both looked tired, but Natasha spoke for them, actually saying aloud a negative response for the first time, “No.” Everyone was careful to not react and kept their faces still.
It wasn’t even quite 8 p.m., Steve realized, so it was extremely unlikely even though they needed at least a week of 8 hours each night to get back on track. He was normally pretty quick with an adjusted plan, but Pepper was smoothing the way already for him. They were quickly becoming a small, well-oiled machine at this.
“Why don’t the three of you lay down and JARVIS can put on another movie. If you’re tired afterwards, you can go to bed, and if you aren’t, you can always watch another.”
Steve was nodding alongside Clint and Natasha, only realizing he’d synced to their in unison action when Tony wrinkled his nose at him, limiting himself to only saying, “Yeah, you’ve got this well in hand. Pepper and I will leave you to it.”
Pepper pulled back the covers, motioned Clint in and had him scoot across the bed, but obviously thought it was okay to direct Steve at this juncture. “In you go, Captain. That way they can both have access to you.” He shot her a straight faced look, but she was far more subtle about sarcasm than Tony. Instead of trying, he just climbed in, no longer surprised when Clint and Natasha settled in on either side of him. He just adjusted his arms to give them both a comfortable shoulder to rest on. Though the way Natasha was curling, she’d landed more on his pec. No one complained.
“There you go. JARVIS will turn down the lights once Tony and I get out of here,” she was saying while pulling the blankets back up into place. “Enjoy your movie.”
Steve woke, the instantly alert without warning kind, but carefully kept still so that his bedmates wouldn’t roll out of bed arming themselves again, and decided he needed to have a talk with JARVIS. The only explanation for him having chosen an exceedingly long and terribly boring movie could have been to lull them all to sleep. Still, no one had woken upset in the middle of the night and they were both still asleep 7 hours in. If he was lucky, they might get a little more.
Luck wasn’t on his side, in that one minute everything was quiet except for deep, even breaths and then Clint was snuffling against his shoulder, saying in a gruff, sleepy voice, “Morning, Cap’n.”
Steve smiled, bringing the arm that had fallen asleep under Clint’s head up to give him a firm half hug. “Good morning, Clint.” Knowing there was no way Natasha wasn’t awake now, despite her managing to keep even her breathing regulated, he did the same half hug for her. “Good morning, Natasha.”
“Morning, Steve,” didn’t even sound like she’d just awoken. With that, she rolled out of bed to head into the bathroom. Her stride didn’t break as she picked up the clean underclothes on her way in. Thinking Clint would be just as efficient, Steve was surprised when, for lack of a better word coming to his mind, Clint snuggled up against him and wrapped his arm around Steve’s stomach.
“You okay?” he asked, even as he put his arm back around Clint’s shoulders.
“Mm’cold,” even though he seemed warm enough under the blankets. Steve wasn’t the type to call him out on that. He just began to add what was hopefully soothing circles being rubbed into the expanse of shoulder and back.
Natasha returned, coming around to Clint’s side of the bed for the first time, and put her hands soothingly through his hair. When she quietly told Steve, “Ice dreams,” Clint shuddered. And Steve knew, even if you normally didn’t wake up screaming, nightmares from your memories cut deep. He hadn’t thrashed that night like the previous, but freezing in body as well as dreamland wasn’t unheard of to him.
“You want to take a warm shower today, Clint?” His hands kept moving steadily, he voice was light, it was just an offer.
“Nuh, feeling better,” he told Steve’s shoulder. Natasha gave him two more pets before stepping back, giving him room.
“How about you go get ready and we’ll have breakfast, then?” He got a brief nod in reply before Clint rolled from his side. His hands brushed Natasha’s as he walked by and he just as gracefully grabbed his shorts on hi way into the bathroom. With him out, Steve took a turn and then steered them down to the kitchen to meet up with the rest of the team.
Bruce had cooked - eggs and bacon, toast and diced potatoes, with butter, honey and jams littering the table. Steve watched as they took their places and started loading their plates on their own. Clint put salsa on his eggs, something Steve wouldn’t have even thought to ask him, and Natasha used butter and raspberry jam thick on her toast. Bruce caught his eye behind their heads and Steve just lifted his coffee mug in acknowledgement.
“You look rested, friends,” Thor greeted them as he came in from patrol.
“Steve slept with us last night,” Natasha told him solemnly.
Tony knew, of course, the truth behind that, but his delighted look regardless prompted Bruce to look at him with eyebrow raised in question. Natasha’s eyes sparkled and Steve realized she’d known exactly what she was doing in that moment. It was disconcerting and delightful by equal parts.
“We fell asleep watching a movie,” was to Bruce and, “Eat your food. Tony has spare suits so we’re going swimming until lunch.” And then scooped eggs into his mouth to forestall arguments or more conversation. Clint just took an extra piece of toast.
It took him nearly an hour to be sure he had everything necessary for three hours poolside. Tony kept the guest bath house well stocked, but he was compelled to check that they’d picked out the correct sizes from the guest stock. Why the man had spare swimsuits when they’d had to scrounge for clothes to kit out Natasha and Clint probably spoke more to his previous lifestyle than Steve cared to indulge in. He just slathered them all in sunscreen, even if he wasn’t convinced he needed it himself, and decided to stop worrying. He set out beach towels near the ladder and dove in.
They quickly proved themselves stronger swimmers than him. He set an easy pace of laps and they wordlessly began to race. Based on Natasha successfully dunking Clint, Steve figured she won, but they both lay panting on chairs while he kept going. Two lengths later, they’d caught their breaths and were positioned comfortably.
Clint, arms behind his head, had his face tipped up to the sun. He looked relaxed, it was nice. Natasha was on her stomach, arms in place to catch the light evenly. Even in repose she was making effective use of time and circumstances. He had thirty more laps he wanted to fin in but they looked fine every time he checked.
When he finally pulled himself out, Natasha had flipped to her back and Clint had an arm across his eyes now. They both turned to look as he approached, a guarded smile on Natasha’s lips and Clint grinning as Steve flicked water at him.
“Showers all around and then its our turn to get food ready for the group.”
It wasn’t necessary, but at this point it seemed useless to argue when Natasha followed them in to the men’s showers and stood in the stall beside him. She no longer needed him or Pepper to towel off and they both got dressed easily. Hopefully this would be the last day in the pajamas because Bruce didn’t actually have more than the two pair. He wasn’t going to push too hard, of course, but today was so vastly better than the day before he couldn’t imagine it taking too much longer.
Then again…he had no idea what ‘normal’ looked like for this pair. It was a sobering thought but he had to push it aside. They had lunch to make.
It probably wasn’t strictly necessary, at this point, but he decided cutting fruit for salad and veggies for fixings wasn’t a job for people who occasionally needed help with teeth brushing when loading a gun was still fine. No need to risk Tony getting a knife thrown at him on reflex. He just pulled every sandwich food he could find in the fridge and put them on assembly.
“Go ahead and make what you want and you can make things for people as they show up.” Retrospectively, he might have wanted to word that differently, as Clint built a monstrosity that defied gravity and physiology. But, hey, if it made him happy, Pepper’s blanch when he actually ate anchovies and peppercinis together was a small price to pay.
“We making sandwiches?” Bruce asked, coming into the room and heading over. A spoon covered in what appeared to be fresh French onion dip stopped him. “Go sit. These guys will make what you want.” Reluctance crossed his face, but Bruce took Steve’s lead and sat at the table.
“What kind of bread, Bruce?” Natasha asked him, returning his sudden grin shyly as he asked. “What’s available?”
“White. Wheat. Rye. Sourdough. Multigrain.” She was slightly pointing at each as she said it, which wasn’t necessary but he followed along regardless. “Multigrain would be great, thanks.”
Thick slices on a plate, she moved down the counter to ask, “Mayo, mustard, salt, pepper, vinegar, oil or dressing?”
“Uhh, wow. Tony has a lot of options. Mayonnaise, nothing else, and skip the meat section for me, please.”
Clint, self-appointed master of meat and cheese, cut in to actually be able to contribute to the sandwich, “Cheese?”
He smiled as Bruce said, “Oh, yeah, absolutely. What are my choices?”
“White, yellow, mixed white and yellow, white with yellow edges and white with holes.” He casually flipped Natasha off as she rolled her eyes at him. “What? He knows exactly what all these are, right Bruce?” Too glad to see the sparkle of knowing laughter in Clint’s eyes, he nodded back at him.
“How about one of each. Can’t have too much cheese. Then lettuce, tomato, onion and some of that avocado Steve is slicing.”
“Coming right up, good sir.” The sandwich was put together more by enthusiasm than skill and Bruce wondered if it was residual task mental blocks or if neither of them really every made them much before now. Either way, lunch was delicious.
Every one of the rest of the group made them each list the options available until Natasha, no longer quite as enamored with the novelty after making Thor six sandwiches in a row, said, “Next time, we’re making a sign.” And Clint added, pointing at Steve, “We’re on to you. You know what’s here, just tell us.” Steve put his hands up in surrender and then shooed them away. “Go eat your food before the bread gets soggy. I can make my own.”
The two looked at each other before frowning. Steve arms lowered as he stepped up to them. A hand on each shoulder. He didn’t even get a chance to question them this time.
“We…want…to make your food.” Clint said, looking at his shoulder, the closest he’d gotten to ducking his head all day.
“Yes. Let us?” Natasha joined in.
He’d have to examine the implications, later, that they’d maybe taken his guiding them the past few days as orders they couldn’t ignore. That the first want they’d expressed had more to do with another person than themselves. Still, it would have to be later, perhaps when they could talk it through with him.
“Well, sure, I’d love a Natasha and Clint special. Give me ham and swiss on rye, heavy mayo and light mustard. Then get on over to the table and eat. Swimming was hard work.” They both nodded, and ignored Tony’s faux whining, “You missed a golden opportunity for a pun there, Captain!” They began making him four identical sandwiches, indicating they’d noticed how much he ate. If they remembered this week, it was going to be interesting to see what they took from it.
Two sandwiches in, Steve got a call from the hospital. Instantly on alert, he went to the hall to answer.
“Rogers here.”
Coulson’s voice came through, less drugged but not any more pained. “Captain Rogers, Agent Coulson here.”
“Oh, we moved on to Phil and Steve a few days ago. Do you remember?” He had no idea how to interpret the five seconds of silence after that.
“I don’t remember much of the past few days, honestly. I thought maybe I’d dreamed that.” It took everything in Steve not to make a joke of Phil dreaming about him. He’d spent too much time with Tony.
“No, not a dream. I needed your help getting Clint and Natasha settled.” He spared a thought that maybe they should be having this conversation in person, not over an unsecured line.
“Oh. Hmm.” He sounded thoughtful and Steve waited for him to continue. He got a minute of silence before finally giving up.
“So, hmm?” Phil actually chuckled at him.
“Everyone hates when I do that. Just thinking. They normally stay mission ready until I help them start to transition. Even right after a harder mission, they’ve waited until I got back from my own to start the process.” He paused again.
“Okay, so this is unusual…” he prompted, trying to force the conversation into gear.
“Yes, but I guess it’s not surprising. They trust you guys. They know, on every level, that they’re safe with you. Trust plays a huge role in this. They relaxed their defenses enough to start decompressing.” It was slightly awe-inspiring, in an absolutely terrifying way, to have two such capable people trust that he’d keep them safe through something this intense. Coulson recognized it as just that big, but didn’t leave him long to take it in. “Clint have nightmares?”
“Yeah, Loki-centric, so far as I can tell. He hasn’t really been up to talking about them, you know?”
“Yes, I do. He won’t talk about them even when he is able to do so. You seem to have a bead on this. Let me know if you have more questions. I’d be there if I could but I’ve been informed I’ll be here for a while yet.” He honestly sounded regretful, like he’d put off healing from mortal wounds to be there. Steve made a note to ask Tony about dedicating a room to Phil, even if it was just a guest room for when he could stay. When he was needed to stay.
“Will do, sir. Actually…How will I know they’re back to normal? I think they’re close.” He got another chuckle. He must still be on some drugs, even if he was handling them better.
“Normal is relative. For your purposes, Natasha will distance herself emotionally and Clint will throw up humor as a deflection. They won’t acknowledge what went down and they’ll probably demand a new assignment right away.” He said it lightly, but Steve thought he sensed a resigned worry. “Ignore that last one, by the way. No new missions while we figure out the world security council.” The last was said with deadly intensity.
“Sir, should we really-“ was cut off.
“You’re on a phone from Stark, Steve. JARVIS, all clear?” Steve rather thought he wouldn’t tell Tony about this part of the exchange. He relaxed back against the wall.
“Yes, Agent Coulson. You are cleared to converse however you wish. Though, Mr. Stark does receive reports on these conversations and will review transcripts of anything that he finds interesting.”
“Don’t tell Bruce,” came from Steve as Phil began, “Perhaps Dr. Banner shouldn’t…” before he trailed off.
“Bruce likes Tony a lot, even if Tony likes crossing lines. I imagine this will be an interesting place to live the next few months.”
“Try years, Captain. I sincerely doubt you’ll all suddenly become calm, unassuming personalities. We’ve had to reassign nearly a dozen agents due to Barton’s antics alone. If he and Stark team up…god help us.” It was enough to surprise a quick laugh out of Steve, some of the tension easing out of him. There would be an after to this.
“You’re going to be here to help keep them all in line, right? After recovery? Phil?” The panicked tone was fake, but Phil’s laugh was true.
“Sure. If you’ll help me get Clint and Natasha back on track after difficult assignments?” He straightened up, no longer relaxed. “No need to barter on that. You know I will.”
“You’re a good guy, Steve.” Coulson said, projecting understanding. Of course he wouldn’t joke about the health of his agents. “And a good Captain. Don’t doubt that. You were the right man for the job.”
“Thank you.” Calm and sincere. No reason to argue right now, with the man healing and worrying about two of his own. It was nice that he’d thought he’d done well, but if there was another world endangering attack, it’d be nice to have talked strategy before it hit. It’d keep.
“Thank you for helping with my agents. They mean a lot to me.” He could hear Phil getting tired, wondered if maybe he wouldn’t have said that aloud if not for the haze, but he meant it. And he could trust that information to Steve.
“Your Avengers, sir.”
“God help us, my Avengers.” And he laughed, even as he said goodbye and hung up, ready to drift to sleep again.
Bruce was introducing Thor to the grave responsibilities of the dishwasher when Steve returned. The man was picking up cultural norms at a quick pace, even if the Allspeak came out rather formal and dated.
“Hey, guys, where are Natasha and Clint?” No one else was in the kitchen.
“They made popcorn and are picking out a movie. We’re to join them when we are finished.” Bruce told him, though he had no idea why he said so in faux imperial tones. He was smiling, so it couldn’t be that bad.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes. So Natasha has decreed. Clint backed her up on it. Those two working together is dangerous.” Steve assumed the whirlwind hand gesture that Bruce paired with that statement would have made sense to someone other than him and Thor.
He went with it though. They kind of did seem like they’d be a force of nature. “Yup. Glad they’re on our side.” He started to inch towards the door. They were probably fine, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Who knows how soon after he took his call they struck out.
Bruce just waved him off. “They took your sandwiches and drink out, too. Go on, Cap, we’ll get the rest of this.”
He kept his stride casual as he went into the lounge and actually did a movie worthy double take. They’d arranged the room to have spots obviously designed for everyone. They hadn’t gone so far as to put out place tags, but the plate with his sandwiches was centered on the table in front of the couch. Two bowls of popcorn flanked it, with his drink set between two glasses of milk.
A bulky, sturdy easy chair had been dragged across the room with a giant bowl of popcorn in the seat and a beerstein he’d never seen before was waiting for Thor to take up his seat. All of the remotes were lined up on a side table next to Tony’s fancy massage chair. A matching chair that hadn’t been in the room previously was next to it, a bottle of Pepper’s favored mineral water at hand. An incongruous puffy ottoman was in front of her chair so she could kick her shoes off and put her feet up.
Natasha noticed him eyeing it and said, a touch nervous in voice, and when he focused in on her, in manner, “We’re going to get them too. We just-wanted to check with you first.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It’s okay? As a thank you?” Natasha asked him.
“For taking care of us,” Clint added, compelled to explain. As vulnerable as they’d seemed before, this was somehow scarier for him, because like this he had the power to accidentally hurt them close to the surface.
There was the faintest hint of a blush on their cheeks and rather than draw it out, he just said, “You are very welcome. Anytime, you know you can count on me.”
“We know,” was said in unison. Sure, it was still creepy, but it was their creepy and they were his.
“You guys pick out the movie and get comfortable. I’ll go find the rest of the team.” He slipped out before they could argue.
Bruce and Thor were finishing up in the kitchen when he ducked halfway through the doorway. He just motioned them to follow. They came into the hall as he asked, “JARVIS, where are Tony and Pepper?”
“On their way to your location, sir. I took the liberty of informing them they were needed.” He didn’t even get the first word out of his, just his mouth open and an airy sound before JARVIS added, “Nothing more, sir.”
Tony pivoted around the corner, caught sight of them, and demanded, “What’s wrong? Backslide?”
Pepper entered from the other side and Steve felt himself grin at the group of them. “Nothing’s wrong, unless you really loved your movie room arrangement.”
That had the unexpected bonus of derailing Tony’s thought process. He went from emergency mode to confused, “What? Talk sense, man.”
“They rearranged your lounge to comfortably seat all of us for a movie. They have popcorn and a mug of tea for Bruce and everything.”
“Oh, they’re quick. I didn’t see them do that at all,” Bruce murmured.
“When you say all of us…” Pepper started.
“You’re off patrol. They wanted to thank us for taking care of them.” Steve couldn’t keep the grin off as he continued to talk. Even Bruce was starting to smile back.
“So, they returned to their senses?” Pepper half-heartedly smacked Tony’s arm, giving action to the disapproval at his word choice. It said something that by now Steve was starting to realize that it was just part of Tony’s manner, not a purposeful slight.
“Not entirely, yet. Coulson was my phone call and he was more lucid this time. They’ll probably go a little distant, try to regain their equilibrium and won’t acknowledge this at all.” Not that it was a particularly healthy tactic, but it made sense for them.
Bruce surprised him, smile more wry but still in place, “So, no group hug?”
“No group hug. Enjoy the thank you while you can. I’m sure by tomorrow we’ll have our deadly duo back.” He turned to start to lead them back to the room, ready to check on them even if they were fast approaching not needing his hovering.
“They’re still deadly now. Pep told me about the guns yesterday.” Tony didn’t acknowledge Bruce and Thor’s questioning look, so maybe this actually was on purpose. He liked to push.
Steve didn’t have to push back, though, at least not on Tony’s terms. “Phil said something that I’ve been turning over in my mind. Normally, if he wasn’t there after a mission, they continued on just as though they were still on mission, in that mindframe. They waited it out until they knew they were safe, that they had someone they trusted, to shut down.”
It really wasn’t responding to Tony’s question, but he listened regardless. Steve was answering more important questions. “I think that even though they didn’t realize it, they felt safe enough with us that they could leave that headspace behind. It wasn’t a choice they made, so they didn’t warn us beforehand, and once they were too far down it was too late. Things got garbled up, a bit, but we figured it out. We proved their trust, however unconscious, was not in ill faith.”
The grins were faded, but not completely gone. They had stepped up to the plate, to steal a phrase of which Steve was fond.
“Let’s go watch whatever movie our whacky assassins picked out, eh gang?” And Tony led them into the lounge, where Clint and Natasha were seated, space between them for Steve, and watching them enter. Eyes just a bit wider, responses returning to them from their previous eerie detachment but control enough to hide them not quite in place.
“Thanks,” they said to the room in unison, everyone knowing what they meant and no one flinching this time. Bruce walked over to his hair, squishy and a mug of tea balanced on the wide arm, and returned the thanks.
Thor took his own seat, held his beer in toast and gave his thanks as well. The two agents looked pleased at both but then their eyes dipped to the side and down, looking at the chairs for Tony and Pepper. It wasn’t the most subtle hint, for spies, but Pepper lavished them with praise on her and Tony’s behalf.
Steve dropped down beside them, gave them each a light squeeze on their knees, before picking up his plate. He managed, “What are we watching?” and then began to eat another of their sandwiches.
Their answer meant as little to him as any of the other movie names he’d heard that week. What was important was that he ate, that they leaned against him and occasionally even laughed. That as the movie ended, Natasha was blinking rapidly trying to stay awake while Clint had slowly let most of his weight slump against Steve. He shook him gently, brought them to their feet.
“Looks like that lack of sleep is still catching up. How about we hit your room and take a nap before dinner? Let these guys clean up?” They followed, not fighting that they were tired, though Natasha looked behind her at Tony, stopped in the doorway half out.
“Don’t move the furniture, Tony. You can get a new chair for your office.” Which explained where Pepper’s chair had come from before this. Steve just smiled, ignoring Tony’s curse, and kept a hand in the small of their backs until he’d gotten them settled into the bed.
“I’ll do a quick patrol, make sure everything is still fine, and then I’m going to sit over here watching out. You’ll be safe.”
They were tired enough that it had seemed like maybe they wouldn’t need to hear that, but it still made both of them look more at ease, more relaxed. So he said it and he meant it.
“Thanks, Cap’n,” Clint murmured, before his eyes closed. Natasha just breathed deeply once, before dropping off. Steve did his tour of the room, eased into the chair, and joined them in sleep.
*
Steve woke to Clint saying, “Aww, Christ, what am I wearing,” to which Natasha replied, “This room smells like Stark.”
He got up from the chair, moved next to the bed so he could smile down at them when he said, “Welcome back.”
Let me know if you come across any glaring errors, or terrible writing, or another fucking use of the word "though" (seriously). Any concrit is welcome. Chances are you'll be able to see where I transition from having reread the intro 5,000 times to my last few bits of 'just finish, oh god, so close, just finish'. Sorry and I love you?
Title from the song Ready to Start by Arcade Fire (with highly contested lyrics!)
Now I'm Ready to Start
Pepper had returned to the suite to help Steve with morning prep. Both Clint and Natasha had slept for eight hours. Natasha straight and Clint with some thrashing that calmed when Steve had stood next to him, hand on his shoulder and trying his best to make soothing noises. They’d both awoken at the click of Pepper opening the door, rolling out of bed and arming themselves in fractionately less time than to assess her as not a threat and disarm.
Pepper had only stumbled a little, trying to cover it by saying cheerfully, “Good morning.” Natasha nodded to her as she walked past, entered the bathroom and shut the door. Four minutes later she returned, even nodded to acknowledge Clint as he took his turn. It said something about how accustomed he’d become to his strange new life that he felt proud at seeing it. And, too, “Did you brush your teeth Natasha?”
More progress, she said, “Yes.” Clint had brushed his teeth unprompted as well.
Without pulling in Fury or Hill, which the team had decided was an all around Bad Idea, sleep schedules were going to be completely jacked before a full twenty-four hours were up. Steve was pretty sure that he and Thor could handle an extended sleepless stretch but Bruce looked ready to drop at the breakfast table. Popular vote had decided that they would all do their best to attend meals together, but afterwards he had a date with his bedroom.
There had been a moment, when the two agents realized no one was patrolling that had seemed almost touch and go. Thor had calmed them, saying gently, “I just completed a sweep of this floor. Both Bruce and I need to eat and then take our rest, the next patrol will begin soon. Until then, JARVIS is scanning.” Simple, direct, and he’d smoothly delivered them into their seats at the same time. The god was full of surprises.
They were still in the borrowed pajamas, because no one had figured out a great solution to the clothing issue yet. Steve was just the side of emotionally tired that he hadn’t asked if they were hungry, if they had food allergies, nothing. He put a bowl of oatmeal down in front of each of his teammates and dug in to his own. There were enough people in the room that could figure out explaining spoons if this was an issue.
They did fine, eating their entire serving, and Steve was idling trying to figure out the best way to reword, “Do you want more?” when Tony took the initiative.
“Should you eat more?” It was almost an open ended question, as what criteria decided should versus should not? The drive they were basing things off of was, “What do you need to do to stay alive?” They had eaten enough to do that. It shouldn’t have worked the way Tony wanted, but enough had shifted overnight that Clint, voice still a little rusty, said, “Yes.”
Bruce refilled their bowls before deciding that talking like they weren’t there was rude but going to be his best bet to getting out of there quicker. “Plan for today, Captain?”
It wasn’t much of one, but he put Tony and Pepper on patrol, a whispered sorry for taking her from work still more. Otherwise, “Relaxing. Thought maybe a movie or two before lunch. Then reassessing. Go ahead and get some sleep, Bruce.”
He had no idea what they would normally do in their free time, but for lack of a better idea he led them to the lounge and asked JARVIS to queue up one of the movies Tony had listed as Must See. He sat on the couch and looked up to see one of his charges standing in front of him on either side. He thought about all the things he could have said, and went with, “Sit next to me.” He grabbed a hand, pulling gently for each of them. They went down easily, Natasha refusing to let go of his hand and resting her head on the outside of his shoulder. Clint let go when Steve opened his hand, but after an infinitesimal pause picked it up again long enough to pull Steve’s arm over his shoulder, tucking in so his head rested on his other shoulder.
It was…unexpected. They looked comfortable, but he asked, “All settled?” He got a twincast, “Yes” which was a little eerie sounding. The room was dark and cool, the screen brightly lighting the title on pause, and he decided to go with it. “Okay, let’s start the movie JARVIS.”
He was asleep before he’d figured out who was supposed to be the main character. He woke to Natasha poking him in the shoulder after the movie was back to the opening screen. He looked blearily at her as she pointed to the screen.
“Oh, oh. Sorry. Wanna watch another?” He slurred, before freezing, instantly awake, remembering the night before. She just said, “Yes.” He hated to push, he did, but he still turned to Clint. “How about you, Clint, do you want to watch another?” He had to wait for a second, and he was ready to berate himself internally when he got the answer, “Yes.”
The next movie started, ostensibly a sequel that was going to leave him hopelessly lost but he was happy realizing that he’d only gotten verbal answers so far that morning. They were responding to more complex questions and situations. He didn’t have a time frame but he had evidence they were on their way back to normal.
He related his observations over lunch, while thinking Bruce should have taken more than five hours of sleep. He still had shadows under his eyes. What with the impromptu movie snuggling, his own nap had been enough to get him through another long stretch.
“Sure you don’t want to go back to bed?” No one pointed out that he’d asked in the same gentle voice he’d been using with Clint and Natasha.
“No,” Bruce answered, smiling and voice to match, “I want to know how the movie watching went.”
He directed it at Steve, so everyone was surprised when Clint said, “Good.” He actually got Tony’s mouth to gape. Natasha turned to look at him, but only to nod and add, “Liked them.” There was a silent, stunned moment, before Thor gave a snort of laughter.
Steve joined him. The two agents slide their gazes to catch each other’s eyes and then shifted slightly closer together. Steve managed to get his laughter under control, realizing that in their current state, they couldn’t tell that the laughter was relief.
“It’s okay, you guys. We’re just glad you liked the movies,” Tony reassured them, voice the same patient one he’d been using since last night. He had some hits or misses, but overall Steve had been impressed with how he handled himself.
Still, the upset from the confusion of why the team had acted so out of the ordinary reduced the two back to yes/no answers for the rest of the day. Steve clued into the regression when he asked them, after finishing lunch, if they wanted to watch more movies. Clint’s bottom lip made it’s way between his teeth and Natasha, still barefoot, curled her toes against the hardwood floor. Tony was beside Natasha, and turned in an instant, hand on her shoulder and repeating what he’d said to Clint the night before, “No worries, we’re all friends here.”
Bruce was closer to Clint, and while he had heard about the night before he couldn’t see this for what it was, particularly so soon after the success of the previous movie question, and he followed Tony’s lead and put a hand on Clint’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s all okay. We don’t have to watch movies if you don’t want.”
Clint pulled away, throat making a painful clicking noise that Steve attributed to trying to keep quiet. He stepped up, moving to Clint’s side so he wouldn’t feel boxed in. They’d managed to avoid bloodshed so far and he was hoping to keep that streak going. “No, it’s not that Bruce. I think we’re just pushing a bit too much too soon. Can’t make it about want right now.”
Bruce nodded, kept his hand on Clint’s shoulder and said, “I’m putting my favorite movie on. I’d really like it if everyone joined me, but I’ll let Steve decide that.” He finished with a few casual pats, before exiting the room. Steve wasn’t exactly happy about the way Bruce worded that, but it made sense. He’d been directing them since the night before and it was working. They both turned to look at him.
“Come on, we’ll watch with Bruce and then go for a jog in the gym before dinner.” He sat down in the middle of the couch, again, and pulled them down to sit next to him, but they sat there eerily still. He debated himself, trying to decide between if he was taking advantage of their vulnerable state or if their prior behavior should be considered as what they wanted.
“I can hear you thinking all the way over here, Cap. You heard them last night, they wouldn’t be doing a damn thing Sitwell suggested. They trust us enough to go off emergency mode, so trust yourself.” With that, Tony finished sweeping the room and went through to the next to continue his patrol.
It was as simple as that. It was as terribly complex as that. Steve tucked Natasha up against one side, threw his arm around Clint on the other side, and went so far as to keep holding each of their hands throughout. He even stayed awake this time.
It was four in the afternoon by the time they walked down five flights of stairs to get to the gym. They passed Pepper switching from one floor to the next, and she gave a professional nod to the group before putting her eyes back to sweeping the stairwell. Steve was impressed to begin with, but the fact that neither Natasha nor Clint tracked her to make sure she continued to do well put him in a better mood.
“We’re just going to jog, guys. Tony liberated another set of pajamas for each of you, so after this we’ll eat and then try our hands at another bath.” He wasn’t asking questions and they weren’t offering opinions, but some of the wariness seemed to leave their eyes when they knew exactly what to expect. So he kept up the patter and pace so they all had an easy gait. At first.
As he fell into his routine they all began to pick up steam. By the time the alarm he’d asked JARVIS to set for dinner went off, they were all red-faced and sweaty. He grabbed three waters and opened the lids for each without thought. As they steadily drank it down, he contemplated them.
“Well, dinner is ready now. We’ll all three take a pass and eat a little grubby.”
It wasn’t a question, but Natasha still said, “Yes.” Steve smiled at her, clapped Clint on the back, and took the stairs two at a time on the way up. He was halfway to the next floor before he realized they were walking gingerly up behind him. He narrowed his gaze at their bare feet, irritation at his own lack of focus coloring the words.
“Have you ever run barefoot before?” They both stopped, looked up at him, and, thankfully, didn’t quite manage to sync up their “Yes” this time. Hating the thought of their looks turning wary, Steve pushed through to make his voice even.
“That long, that fast?” They both only shook their heads, but their gazes didn’t change. He’d have to talk it over with the others, see if he was missing something from this exchange. In the meantime, he tried to put a smile behind his eyes, hoping they recognized rueful when they saw it.
“Feet a little tender?” He didn’t wait for them to answer, adding, “I’ll walk slower.”
If anyone noticed the softer steps as the three of them walked in, no one mentioned it. Instead, they did bring up the state of their clothing. Tony’s eyes narrowed to make a comment but Pepper managed to actually speak before him.
“Wow, you three are a little gross. Sit on that side of the table, thanks. We’ll have a bath after dinner.”
Tony let himself leer a little at her, “Will we?” She just slanted him the same look from last night. He threw his hands up in the international symbol for surrender. For three seconds, before slanting a considering look across the table at Clint and Natasha. Still, his voice came out almost hesitant.
“Did you guys have a good afternoon?” Everyone waited to gauge how well they were doing now. Natasha ducked her head, a movement none of them had seen before that would have made Tony’s heart stop if it weren’t hooked up to a super battery. Clint once again surprised them, though, by reaching out to tap Natasha’s hand twice with his first two fingers. She looked over at him, the longest eye contact they’d given each other since battling Loki. Then they turned to look at Tony in unison, both saying, “Yes.”
No one said it out loud, but it was pretty obvious everyone still found that disconcerting. It was not easing up with time and familiarity.
Since the two didn’t seem to mind or backslide like this afternoon, Tony pushed them a little harder. Steve thought about cutting him off, just accepting what they had now rather than risk it, but he held his tongue, barely, as Tony kept on.
“What did you do today?” Patient and even, Pepper moving to rest an arm on Tony’s shoulder like he was working just as hard as they were too.
Natasha didn’t hesitate this time, and Steve was sure that Tony deserved the swell of pride that came across his face when she said, “Watched a movie with Bruce.”
And Clint might have dropped eye contact to the side, not quite going so far as Natasha’s ducked head, but he still added, “Ran with Steve.”
Everyone moderated their responses, treating this as delicately as it had proved to be, but Bruce nodded approvingly, and Thor smiled at them broadly.
“I was happy to have the company,” Steve told them, before turning back to his food and letting Tony tell Bruce where he’d left off in rounds. They made the switch easily after dinner and once again Tony, Pepper, and Steve led Clint and Natasha to Tony’s master bath.
This time, they were barely in the room before the two began to reach for the bottom hems of their pajama tops. Steve couldn’t quite stop his automatic response of slight panic, turning his, “Whoa-” into a weirdly structured sentence with, “-teeth brushing first.” It came out somewhat like a reprimand, and he held his breath to see how they would respond.
Fingers dropped the cloth, Natasha with a small flutter before moving her hands away, but they walked over to the sinks and began the process of brushing their teeth. No one had been in the bathroom with them that morning, so it was quietly revealing to them to see both Natasha and Clint mimic their teeth cleaning of the previous night. Even to Clint tapping a finger against his chin before opening up to bring the bristles to his teeth.
Steve turned to Tony and Pepper, saying very softly, “It makes sense. Their other actions have been fall back behavior. Routine. They just added this as another routine to follow.”
Once Clint finished by patting his face dry, they turned to look at Pepper. Apparently whatever had prompted them to start to strip when they first walked in had faded, or Steve had unintentionally wiped that pattern away with his sharp response, but not even, “Get undressed,” prompted them to touch their tops. Pepper and Tony made quick work of getting the pajamas off and then led their charges up to and into the bath.
This time went without incident, no stumbles or accidental set backs. They were out, toweled off and into the fresh pajamas efficiently. The dresser top held their now laundered under clothes, but Pepper decided they’d go ahead and let them be fresh the next morning.
Steve started to direct them into bed by route, but Tony cut him off, like always, almost reflexively. “Will you guys sleep if you get into bed now?” They both looked tired, but Natasha spoke for them, actually saying aloud a negative response for the first time, “No.” Everyone was careful to not react and kept their faces still.
It wasn’t even quite 8 p.m., Steve realized, so it was extremely unlikely even though they needed at least a week of 8 hours each night to get back on track. He was normally pretty quick with an adjusted plan, but Pepper was smoothing the way already for him. They were quickly becoming a small, well-oiled machine at this.
“Why don’t the three of you lay down and JARVIS can put on another movie. If you’re tired afterwards, you can go to bed, and if you aren’t, you can always watch another.”
Steve was nodding alongside Clint and Natasha, only realizing he’d synced to their in unison action when Tony wrinkled his nose at him, limiting himself to only saying, “Yeah, you’ve got this well in hand. Pepper and I will leave you to it.”
Pepper pulled back the covers, motioned Clint in and had him scoot across the bed, but obviously thought it was okay to direct Steve at this juncture. “In you go, Captain. That way they can both have access to you.” He shot her a straight faced look, but she was far more subtle about sarcasm than Tony. Instead of trying, he just climbed in, no longer surprised when Clint and Natasha settled in on either side of him. He just adjusted his arms to give them both a comfortable shoulder to rest on. Though the way Natasha was curling, she’d landed more on his pec. No one complained.
“There you go. JARVIS will turn down the lights once Tony and I get out of here,” she was saying while pulling the blankets back up into place. “Enjoy your movie.”
Steve woke, the instantly alert without warning kind, but carefully kept still so that his bedmates wouldn’t roll out of bed arming themselves again, and decided he needed to have a talk with JARVIS. The only explanation for him having chosen an exceedingly long and terribly boring movie could have been to lull them all to sleep. Still, no one had woken upset in the middle of the night and they were both still asleep 7 hours in. If he was lucky, they might get a little more.
Luck wasn’t on his side, in that one minute everything was quiet except for deep, even breaths and then Clint was snuffling against his shoulder, saying in a gruff, sleepy voice, “Morning, Cap’n.”
Steve smiled, bringing the arm that had fallen asleep under Clint’s head up to give him a firm half hug. “Good morning, Clint.” Knowing there was no way Natasha wasn’t awake now, despite her managing to keep even her breathing regulated, he did the same half hug for her. “Good morning, Natasha.”
“Morning, Steve,” didn’t even sound like she’d just awoken. With that, she rolled out of bed to head into the bathroom. Her stride didn’t break as she picked up the clean underclothes on her way in. Thinking Clint would be just as efficient, Steve was surprised when, for lack of a better word coming to his mind, Clint snuggled up against him and wrapped his arm around Steve’s stomach.
“You okay?” he asked, even as he put his arm back around Clint’s shoulders.
“Mm’cold,” even though he seemed warm enough under the blankets. Steve wasn’t the type to call him out on that. He just began to add what was hopefully soothing circles being rubbed into the expanse of shoulder and back.
Natasha returned, coming around to Clint’s side of the bed for the first time, and put her hands soothingly through his hair. When she quietly told Steve, “Ice dreams,” Clint shuddered. And Steve knew, even if you normally didn’t wake up screaming, nightmares from your memories cut deep. He hadn’t thrashed that night like the previous, but freezing in body as well as dreamland wasn’t unheard of to him.
“You want to take a warm shower today, Clint?” His hands kept moving steadily, he voice was light, it was just an offer.
“Nuh, feeling better,” he told Steve’s shoulder. Natasha gave him two more pets before stepping back, giving him room.
“How about you go get ready and we’ll have breakfast, then?” He got a brief nod in reply before Clint rolled from his side. His hands brushed Natasha’s as he walked by and he just as gracefully grabbed his shorts on hi way into the bathroom. With him out, Steve took a turn and then steered them down to the kitchen to meet up with the rest of the team.
Bruce had cooked - eggs and bacon, toast and diced potatoes, with butter, honey and jams littering the table. Steve watched as they took their places and started loading their plates on their own. Clint put salsa on his eggs, something Steve wouldn’t have even thought to ask him, and Natasha used butter and raspberry jam thick on her toast. Bruce caught his eye behind their heads and Steve just lifted his coffee mug in acknowledgement.
“You look rested, friends,” Thor greeted them as he came in from patrol.
“Steve slept with us last night,” Natasha told him solemnly.
Tony knew, of course, the truth behind that, but his delighted look regardless prompted Bruce to look at him with eyebrow raised in question. Natasha’s eyes sparkled and Steve realized she’d known exactly what she was doing in that moment. It was disconcerting and delightful by equal parts.
“We fell asleep watching a movie,” was to Bruce and, “Eat your food. Tony has spare suits so we’re going swimming until lunch.” And then scooped eggs into his mouth to forestall arguments or more conversation. Clint just took an extra piece of toast.
It took him nearly an hour to be sure he had everything necessary for three hours poolside. Tony kept the guest bath house well stocked, but he was compelled to check that they’d picked out the correct sizes from the guest stock. Why the man had spare swimsuits when they’d had to scrounge for clothes to kit out Natasha and Clint probably spoke more to his previous lifestyle than Steve cared to indulge in. He just slathered them all in sunscreen, even if he wasn’t convinced he needed it himself, and decided to stop worrying. He set out beach towels near the ladder and dove in.
They quickly proved themselves stronger swimmers than him. He set an easy pace of laps and they wordlessly began to race. Based on Natasha successfully dunking Clint, Steve figured she won, but they both lay panting on chairs while he kept going. Two lengths later, they’d caught their breaths and were positioned comfortably.
Clint, arms behind his head, had his face tipped up to the sun. He looked relaxed, it was nice. Natasha was on her stomach, arms in place to catch the light evenly. Even in repose she was making effective use of time and circumstances. He had thirty more laps he wanted to fin in but they looked fine every time he checked.
When he finally pulled himself out, Natasha had flipped to her back and Clint had an arm across his eyes now. They both turned to look as he approached, a guarded smile on Natasha’s lips and Clint grinning as Steve flicked water at him.
“Showers all around and then its our turn to get food ready for the group.”
It wasn’t necessary, but at this point it seemed useless to argue when Natasha followed them in to the men’s showers and stood in the stall beside him. She no longer needed him or Pepper to towel off and they both got dressed easily. Hopefully this would be the last day in the pajamas because Bruce didn’t actually have more than the two pair. He wasn’t going to push too hard, of course, but today was so vastly better than the day before he couldn’t imagine it taking too much longer.
Then again…he had no idea what ‘normal’ looked like for this pair. It was a sobering thought but he had to push it aside. They had lunch to make.
It probably wasn’t strictly necessary, at this point, but he decided cutting fruit for salad and veggies for fixings wasn’t a job for people who occasionally needed help with teeth brushing when loading a gun was still fine. No need to risk Tony getting a knife thrown at him on reflex. He just pulled every sandwich food he could find in the fridge and put them on assembly.
“Go ahead and make what you want and you can make things for people as they show up.” Retrospectively, he might have wanted to word that differently, as Clint built a monstrosity that defied gravity and physiology. But, hey, if it made him happy, Pepper’s blanch when he actually ate anchovies and peppercinis together was a small price to pay.
“We making sandwiches?” Bruce asked, coming into the room and heading over. A spoon covered in what appeared to be fresh French onion dip stopped him. “Go sit. These guys will make what you want.” Reluctance crossed his face, but Bruce took Steve’s lead and sat at the table.
“What kind of bread, Bruce?” Natasha asked him, returning his sudden grin shyly as he asked. “What’s available?”
“White. Wheat. Rye. Sourdough. Multigrain.” She was slightly pointing at each as she said it, which wasn’t necessary but he followed along regardless. “Multigrain would be great, thanks.”
Thick slices on a plate, she moved down the counter to ask, “Mayo, mustard, salt, pepper, vinegar, oil or dressing?”
“Uhh, wow. Tony has a lot of options. Mayonnaise, nothing else, and skip the meat section for me, please.”
Clint, self-appointed master of meat and cheese, cut in to actually be able to contribute to the sandwich, “Cheese?”
He smiled as Bruce said, “Oh, yeah, absolutely. What are my choices?”
“White, yellow, mixed white and yellow, white with yellow edges and white with holes.” He casually flipped Natasha off as she rolled her eyes at him. “What? He knows exactly what all these are, right Bruce?” Too glad to see the sparkle of knowing laughter in Clint’s eyes, he nodded back at him.
“How about one of each. Can’t have too much cheese. Then lettuce, tomato, onion and some of that avocado Steve is slicing.”
“Coming right up, good sir.” The sandwich was put together more by enthusiasm than skill and Bruce wondered if it was residual task mental blocks or if neither of them really every made them much before now. Either way, lunch was delicious.
Every one of the rest of the group made them each list the options available until Natasha, no longer quite as enamored with the novelty after making Thor six sandwiches in a row, said, “Next time, we’re making a sign.” And Clint added, pointing at Steve, “We’re on to you. You know what’s here, just tell us.” Steve put his hands up in surrender and then shooed them away. “Go eat your food before the bread gets soggy. I can make my own.”
The two looked at each other before frowning. Steve arms lowered as he stepped up to them. A hand on each shoulder. He didn’t even get a chance to question them this time.
“We…want…to make your food.” Clint said, looking at his shoulder, the closest he’d gotten to ducking his head all day.
“Yes. Let us?” Natasha joined in.
He’d have to examine the implications, later, that they’d maybe taken his guiding them the past few days as orders they couldn’t ignore. That the first want they’d expressed had more to do with another person than themselves. Still, it would have to be later, perhaps when they could talk it through with him.
“Well, sure, I’d love a Natasha and Clint special. Give me ham and swiss on rye, heavy mayo and light mustard. Then get on over to the table and eat. Swimming was hard work.” They both nodded, and ignored Tony’s faux whining, “You missed a golden opportunity for a pun there, Captain!” They began making him four identical sandwiches, indicating they’d noticed how much he ate. If they remembered this week, it was going to be interesting to see what they took from it.
Two sandwiches in, Steve got a call from the hospital. Instantly on alert, he went to the hall to answer.
“Rogers here.”
Coulson’s voice came through, less drugged but not any more pained. “Captain Rogers, Agent Coulson here.”
“Oh, we moved on to Phil and Steve a few days ago. Do you remember?” He had no idea how to interpret the five seconds of silence after that.
“I don’t remember much of the past few days, honestly. I thought maybe I’d dreamed that.” It took everything in Steve not to make a joke of Phil dreaming about him. He’d spent too much time with Tony.
“No, not a dream. I needed your help getting Clint and Natasha settled.” He spared a thought that maybe they should be having this conversation in person, not over an unsecured line.
“Oh. Hmm.” He sounded thoughtful and Steve waited for him to continue. He got a minute of silence before finally giving up.
“So, hmm?” Phil actually chuckled at him.
“Everyone hates when I do that. Just thinking. They normally stay mission ready until I help them start to transition. Even right after a harder mission, they’ve waited until I got back from my own to start the process.” He paused again.
“Okay, so this is unusual…” he prompted, trying to force the conversation into gear.
“Yes, but I guess it’s not surprising. They trust you guys. They know, on every level, that they’re safe with you. Trust plays a huge role in this. They relaxed their defenses enough to start decompressing.” It was slightly awe-inspiring, in an absolutely terrifying way, to have two such capable people trust that he’d keep them safe through something this intense. Coulson recognized it as just that big, but didn’t leave him long to take it in. “Clint have nightmares?”
“Yeah, Loki-centric, so far as I can tell. He hasn’t really been up to talking about them, you know?”
“Yes, I do. He won’t talk about them even when he is able to do so. You seem to have a bead on this. Let me know if you have more questions. I’d be there if I could but I’ve been informed I’ll be here for a while yet.” He honestly sounded regretful, like he’d put off healing from mortal wounds to be there. Steve made a note to ask Tony about dedicating a room to Phil, even if it was just a guest room for when he could stay. When he was needed to stay.
“Will do, sir. Actually…How will I know they’re back to normal? I think they’re close.” He got another chuckle. He must still be on some drugs, even if he was handling them better.
“Normal is relative. For your purposes, Natasha will distance herself emotionally and Clint will throw up humor as a deflection. They won’t acknowledge what went down and they’ll probably demand a new assignment right away.” He said it lightly, but Steve thought he sensed a resigned worry. “Ignore that last one, by the way. No new missions while we figure out the world security council.” The last was said with deadly intensity.
“Sir, should we really-“ was cut off.
“You’re on a phone from Stark, Steve. JARVIS, all clear?” Steve rather thought he wouldn’t tell Tony about this part of the exchange. He relaxed back against the wall.
“Yes, Agent Coulson. You are cleared to converse however you wish. Though, Mr. Stark does receive reports on these conversations and will review transcripts of anything that he finds interesting.”
“Don’t tell Bruce,” came from Steve as Phil began, “Perhaps Dr. Banner shouldn’t…” before he trailed off.
“Bruce likes Tony a lot, even if Tony likes crossing lines. I imagine this will be an interesting place to live the next few months.”
“Try years, Captain. I sincerely doubt you’ll all suddenly become calm, unassuming personalities. We’ve had to reassign nearly a dozen agents due to Barton’s antics alone. If he and Stark team up…god help us.” It was enough to surprise a quick laugh out of Steve, some of the tension easing out of him. There would be an after to this.
“You’re going to be here to help keep them all in line, right? After recovery? Phil?” The panicked tone was fake, but Phil’s laugh was true.
“Sure. If you’ll help me get Clint and Natasha back on track after difficult assignments?” He straightened up, no longer relaxed. “No need to barter on that. You know I will.”
“You’re a good guy, Steve.” Coulson said, projecting understanding. Of course he wouldn’t joke about the health of his agents. “And a good Captain. Don’t doubt that. You were the right man for the job.”
“Thank you.” Calm and sincere. No reason to argue right now, with the man healing and worrying about two of his own. It was nice that he’d thought he’d done well, but if there was another world endangering attack, it’d be nice to have talked strategy before it hit. It’d keep.
“Thank you for helping with my agents. They mean a lot to me.” He could hear Phil getting tired, wondered if maybe he wouldn’t have said that aloud if not for the haze, but he meant it. And he could trust that information to Steve.
“Your Avengers, sir.”
“God help us, my Avengers.” And he laughed, even as he said goodbye and hung up, ready to drift to sleep again.
Bruce was introducing Thor to the grave responsibilities of the dishwasher when Steve returned. The man was picking up cultural norms at a quick pace, even if the Allspeak came out rather formal and dated.
“Hey, guys, where are Natasha and Clint?” No one else was in the kitchen.
“They made popcorn and are picking out a movie. We’re to join them when we are finished.” Bruce told him, though he had no idea why he said so in faux imperial tones. He was smiling, so it couldn’t be that bad.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes. So Natasha has decreed. Clint backed her up on it. Those two working together is dangerous.” Steve assumed the whirlwind hand gesture that Bruce paired with that statement would have made sense to someone other than him and Thor.
He went with it though. They kind of did seem like they’d be a force of nature. “Yup. Glad they’re on our side.” He started to inch towards the door. They were probably fine, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Who knows how soon after he took his call they struck out.
Bruce just waved him off. “They took your sandwiches and drink out, too. Go on, Cap, we’ll get the rest of this.”
He kept his stride casual as he went into the lounge and actually did a movie worthy double take. They’d arranged the room to have spots obviously designed for everyone. They hadn’t gone so far as to put out place tags, but the plate with his sandwiches was centered on the table in front of the couch. Two bowls of popcorn flanked it, with his drink set between two glasses of milk.
A bulky, sturdy easy chair had been dragged across the room with a giant bowl of popcorn in the seat and a beerstein he’d never seen before was waiting for Thor to take up his seat. All of the remotes were lined up on a side table next to Tony’s fancy massage chair. A matching chair that hadn’t been in the room previously was next to it, a bottle of Pepper’s favored mineral water at hand. An incongruous puffy ottoman was in front of her chair so she could kick her shoes off and put her feet up.
Natasha noticed him eyeing it and said, a touch nervous in voice, and when he focused in on her, in manner, “We’re going to get them too. We just-wanted to check with you first.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It’s okay? As a thank you?” Natasha asked him.
“For taking care of us,” Clint added, compelled to explain. As vulnerable as they’d seemed before, this was somehow scarier for him, because like this he had the power to accidentally hurt them close to the surface.
There was the faintest hint of a blush on their cheeks and rather than draw it out, he just said, “You are very welcome. Anytime, you know you can count on me.”
“We know,” was said in unison. Sure, it was still creepy, but it was their creepy and they were his.
“You guys pick out the movie and get comfortable. I’ll go find the rest of the team.” He slipped out before they could argue.
Bruce and Thor were finishing up in the kitchen when he ducked halfway through the doorway. He just motioned them to follow. They came into the hall as he asked, “JARVIS, where are Tony and Pepper?”
“On their way to your location, sir. I took the liberty of informing them they were needed.” He didn’t even get the first word out of his, just his mouth open and an airy sound before JARVIS added, “Nothing more, sir.”
Tony pivoted around the corner, caught sight of them, and demanded, “What’s wrong? Backslide?”
Pepper entered from the other side and Steve felt himself grin at the group of them. “Nothing’s wrong, unless you really loved your movie room arrangement.”
That had the unexpected bonus of derailing Tony’s thought process. He went from emergency mode to confused, “What? Talk sense, man.”
“They rearranged your lounge to comfortably seat all of us for a movie. They have popcorn and a mug of tea for Bruce and everything.”
“Oh, they’re quick. I didn’t see them do that at all,” Bruce murmured.
“When you say all of us…” Pepper started.
“You’re off patrol. They wanted to thank us for taking care of them.” Steve couldn’t keep the grin off as he continued to talk. Even Bruce was starting to smile back.
“So, they returned to their senses?” Pepper half-heartedly smacked Tony’s arm, giving action to the disapproval at his word choice. It said something that by now Steve was starting to realize that it was just part of Tony’s manner, not a purposeful slight.
“Not entirely, yet. Coulson was my phone call and he was more lucid this time. They’ll probably go a little distant, try to regain their equilibrium and won’t acknowledge this at all.” Not that it was a particularly healthy tactic, but it made sense for them.
Bruce surprised him, smile more wry but still in place, “So, no group hug?”
“No group hug. Enjoy the thank you while you can. I’m sure by tomorrow we’ll have our deadly duo back.” He turned to start to lead them back to the room, ready to check on them even if they were fast approaching not needing his hovering.
“They’re still deadly now. Pep told me about the guns yesterday.” Tony didn’t acknowledge Bruce and Thor’s questioning look, so maybe this actually was on purpose. He liked to push.
Steve didn’t have to push back, though, at least not on Tony’s terms. “Phil said something that I’ve been turning over in my mind. Normally, if he wasn’t there after a mission, they continued on just as though they were still on mission, in that mindframe. They waited it out until they knew they were safe, that they had someone they trusted, to shut down.”
It really wasn’t responding to Tony’s question, but he listened regardless. Steve was answering more important questions. “I think that even though they didn’t realize it, they felt safe enough with us that they could leave that headspace behind. It wasn’t a choice they made, so they didn’t warn us beforehand, and once they were too far down it was too late. Things got garbled up, a bit, but we figured it out. We proved their trust, however unconscious, was not in ill faith.”
The grins were faded, but not completely gone. They had stepped up to the plate, to steal a phrase of which Steve was fond.
“Let’s go watch whatever movie our whacky assassins picked out, eh gang?” And Tony led them into the lounge, where Clint and Natasha were seated, space between them for Steve, and watching them enter. Eyes just a bit wider, responses returning to them from their previous eerie detachment but control enough to hide them not quite in place.
“Thanks,” they said to the room in unison, everyone knowing what they meant and no one flinching this time. Bruce walked over to his hair, squishy and a mug of tea balanced on the wide arm, and returned the thanks.
Thor took his own seat, held his beer in toast and gave his thanks as well. The two agents looked pleased at both but then their eyes dipped to the side and down, looking at the chairs for Tony and Pepper. It wasn’t the most subtle hint, for spies, but Pepper lavished them with praise on her and Tony’s behalf.
Steve dropped down beside them, gave them each a light squeeze on their knees, before picking up his plate. He managed, “What are we watching?” and then began to eat another of their sandwiches.
Their answer meant as little to him as any of the other movie names he’d heard that week. What was important was that he ate, that they leaned against him and occasionally even laughed. That as the movie ended, Natasha was blinking rapidly trying to stay awake while Clint had slowly let most of his weight slump against Steve. He shook him gently, brought them to their feet.
“Looks like that lack of sleep is still catching up. How about we hit your room and take a nap before dinner? Let these guys clean up?” They followed, not fighting that they were tired, though Natasha looked behind her at Tony, stopped in the doorway half out.
“Don’t move the furniture, Tony. You can get a new chair for your office.” Which explained where Pepper’s chair had come from before this. Steve just smiled, ignoring Tony’s curse, and kept a hand in the small of their backs until he’d gotten them settled into the bed.
“I’ll do a quick patrol, make sure everything is still fine, and then I’m going to sit over here watching out. You’ll be safe.”
They were tired enough that it had seemed like maybe they wouldn’t need to hear that, but it still made both of them look more at ease, more relaxed. So he said it and he meant it.
“Thanks, Cap’n,” Clint murmured, before his eyes closed. Natasha just breathed deeply once, before dropping off. Steve did his tour of the room, eased into the chair, and joined them in sleep.
*
Steve woke to Clint saying, “Aww, Christ, what am I wearing,” to which Natasha replied, “This room smells like Stark.”
He got up from the chair, moved next to the bed so he could smile down at them when he said, “Welcome back.”