Birds and Cupcakes

Two

You listened as the federal agents talked with Clint and did whatever they needed to do to get everything set up. It took nearly a week before everything had gone through and they actually cleared you to allow his house arrest to be here. Your condo was large, really it was too big for a single person. But you had inherited it from your grandmother, and only an idiot would turn down living somewhere they didn't need to pay rent, taxes, or a mortgage on.

At one point, you heard one agent make a comment about Clint getting lucky to have such a nicely gilded cage instead of what he actually deserved. It took a lot for you to not stalk over to the man and punch him in the face.

The intercom had buzzed as they were finishing up, and the front desk informed you that Laura and the kids had arrived with Clint's things. You cleared them to come up and went to open the door for them. Within several minutes, your place was ringing with noise and you felt the beginnings of a headache. Retreating to your office, you searched for the documents you needed to fill out so you could get Clint added to the building security.

"It's nice of you to do this for him."

Straightening from where you had been bent over a drawer, you found Laura standing in the doorway. You took a minute to bite down on the flicker of annoyance that ran through you at her words. While you weren't exactly mad at her, it bothered you she was putting Clint through this.

"I'm doing what any good friend would do," you say carefully.

There was a sad smile on her face as she shook her head, "Letting someone live with you, stuck in your place 24/7 for over three years, is something I think even a good friend would normally hesitate over doing."

Sucking your teeth, you closed the drawer you were looking through with your foot and said, "Yeah, well, I'm the friend who wouldn't."

She made a soft humming sound and then turned away when one of the kids called for her. Laura had brought them with her when she brought his stuff.

Later that night, you were cleaning up the kitchen when you realized that the place was extremely quiet. Curious, you dried your hands and dropped the towel on the counter and wandered out of the kitchen.

"Clint?" You called out. The only thing you got back was silence. Wandering up the steps, you stuck your head into the bedroom you'd given Clint and saw that it was empty. Standing in the hallway, you tapped your foot as you considered things. An idea occurred to you after a minute and you made your way up to the fourth floor and pushed through the door to the rooftop terrace area.

Clint was crouched on the parapet in the far corner, arms braced on his legs as his hands dangled between his knees while he watched the ground hundreds of feet below. If you didn't know him as well as you did, seeing him perched like that would have scared you shitless. But you knew him.

You walked over and leaned your elbows on the parapet next to him, "I sincerely hope you aren't planning on jumping. That would be so much paperwork to deal with."

He snorted softly, "You've had to deal with enough paperwork on my account. I'll refrain."

"That's a good point. I'm pretty sure I have carpal tunnel now. I'll send you the bill."

Clint didn't respond. He just continued to watch the ground. You leaned forward enough so that you could try to see what he was watching. It was getting pretty late, but this was New York, so there was still movement below. The two of you remained like that for a while. Then you bumped your shoulder lightly against his leg, "You gonna be okay?"

"Don't know," was the quiet answer.

You hummed as you shivered with the sudden shift of the wind. Patting his leg, you turned away and told him you were heading in to go to bed. He didn't respond, or move his position. Just continued to perch and watch the city moved below.