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"No."

"Clint."

"No."

"Clint."

"No!" Clint exclaimed. "I'm not doing it, Truth."

Truth Castello stood across the mat from Clint Barton with her hands on her hips like a disappointed mother.

"You'll only be an inch or two off the floor," she assured. "That's all I'm asking."

Clint groaned, but nevertheless picked up his bow and moved to stand a few feet in front of her.

"If this was what you meant by wanting to train, why didn't you just ask Michael?"

After the sad fest that was breakfast, the four agents had gone their separate ways—Natasha leaving quickly to go to an evaluation meeting with Fury, and Michael too had disappeared to get ready for a "lunch date," whatever that was code for. Clint had left to consult with Coulson on an upcoming mission, and Truth had gone back to her apartment to cuddle with her cat and recuperate.

As was usual after one of her episodes—or, almost episode, because nothing had really happened before Michael had stepped in—Clint and Michael left her alone for as long as she needed. They knew better than to coddle her. It would only annoy her, especially because no one would know what she needed more than herself.

The point was that just because she had reached a low that morning didn't mean she couldn't pick herself up and try again.

And that was what she's been telling herself for the past five years. The words had never failed her. Not even when the thought of giving up would've ended in punishment.

First, she had analyzed her morning to find her stressor. She'd already been annoyed when she'd left her apartment due to her lack of french toast, but Truth's irritation seemed to have stemmed not only from herself but also her surroundings. Her mind had picked out all the little things around her, latching onto the lingering morning aggravation left behind by other sleep deprived agents and tracking the aggravated conversations around her.

From there, it had been easy to tell what she needed: something to focus on. Her mind was too awake to sit still, and in turn rendered it difficult to block out the world. She was feeding off of other people, and it was growing difficult to recognize her own thoughts and emotions over everyone else's.

So, what better was there to do than to try to get a little telekinesis practice in, something that required perfect concentration and could also release some pent-up energy? 

Two birds. One stone.

Truth and Clint hadn't talked much in the last two weeks—what with him being preoccupied as Natasha's probationary agent and Truth being, well, Truth. However, with Natasha still in her meeting, Truth had found Clint dropping off some paperwork to Maria's vacant office and the opportunity had been too good to ignore.