R͟u͟t͟h͟l͟e͟s͟s͟ {Q͟u͟i͟c͟k͟s͟i͟l͟v͟e͟r͟/ A͟v͟e͟n͟g͟e͟r͟s͟}

Chapter 43: Let's Go

My eyes opened slowly, struggling under their own weight. Light poured onto me, and I blinked, trying to let it sink in. It was noon day. I was leaning against something metal, and in further inspection, I realized it was the complex. I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep. I always seemed to fall asleep at the moments I didn't expect.

My back was freezing cold, like someone had dripped ice water over it. My shirt was ripped, I'd forgotten. I yawned slightly and got to my feet.

"Crimson!" Somebody exclaimed loudly, startling me. They sounded relieved.

"Clint?" I asked.

"We've been looking all over for you," I turned, surprised. "What happened last night?" He said urgently.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked, confused, "Why haven't you just talked to Tony or Pietro?"

"I have. Neither of them remember anything, and they both have migraines bigger than Tony's ego," Clint laughed at his own joke, "I'm assuming they somehow got drunk, there's a couple broken bottles scattered everywhere in Tony's sleeping area thing, but what scares me is the blood everywhere. I've had to be ordering around a million different people to do different things, and I couldn't find you anywhere-"

"Don't worry about the blood, it's just from Pietro's hand, sorry to alarm you," I explained calmly, "And, yeah, I'm pretty sure they were drunk. Tony threw up all over me and the back of my suit is ripped from Pietro trying to get a knife from me and kill himself."

"Oh, okay-" Clint started to say, and then stopped, "Wait, what?"

"Tony woke me up last night, thinking I was dead, although I was just asleep. He was so stoned he could barely walk straight. He collapsed after throwing up all over me and mumbling some stuff about someone else wanting to kill themselves. I went to his tree thing-" Clint stifled a laugh, and then got back to being serious,  "And found Pietro collapsed with a knife in hand and a broken bottle. I kinda assumed they were drunk after that. I took the knife from him, he woke up, basically tried to kill me to get it back, and then he was out."

"Where did they get alcohol at a time like this?" Clint said frustratedly.

"No clue. Why don't you ask them?" I said, narrowing my eyes, "And by the way, I kind of need a new suit, or shirt, or something..."

Clint glanced at my exposed back momentarily, making me self-conscious. "Right. I'll get right on that."

"Thanks," I said, wondering if I could maybe pin it together with something. Luckily, it only ran down from about the tip of my neck to the middle of my back, jaggedly, but it was still uncomfortable.

"So where are Tony and Pietro?" I asked casually, secretly wanting to shoot them with a tank and then jump on their faces for getting drunk in the middle of Africa on a mission. And that's not even including how Pietro... Yeah.

"Hiding in Tony's fortress. They're like vampires, they're so terrified of sunlight," Clint said, "It hasn't exactly been helpful."

"Great. I'd love to have a little talk with them."

"You can't actually hurt them, you realize this, correct?" Clint commented, laughing.

I made a disapproving sound, but didn't reply. Clint chuckled again. We walked over to the overhanging tree and pushed it open. "Hey-"

Tony hissed and covered his eyes. Pietro groaned loudly. "Turn off the light," Tony mumbled, sounding terrified. I laughed a little spitefully.

Clint and I both stepped in. There was a little bit of dried blood around the room, and you could tell there had been a struggle. Pietro actually looked a little bruised, as I looked at him closer. He glanced up to meet my eyes and automatically I turned away casually. "Do you guys remember anything from last night?" I asked nonchalantly.