❝ In a mirror, darkly. ❞
• • •
Clint Barton. Spy, assassin, master archer. Caffeine addict. Hot mess. After the Battle of New York, Clint is forced to come to terms with the mind control Loki forced him into. The longer he's recovering, the cleare...
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CHAPTER EIGHT
When his alarm sounded at 5:45 am the next morning, Clint roused from sleep still against the door. He groaned. His neck hurt, his head hurt. His arm most definitely hurt. Glancing down at the burn, he frowned. He'd get a Shield doctor to look at it.
After a quick shower, he changed into his favorite shirt: Black with a down pointing purple arrow. On top went his black leather jacket. He stared in the mirror. His eyes screamed of exhaustion. But at least he'd almost finished his mission.
Clint walked out into the apartment main area and went straight to the kitchen. He started a pot of coffee and found a keurig cup of mocha for Paige. He started it just as Paige emerged from her room, wearing the same thing as the day before; a white tank top that looked surprisingly clean, a ripped up jean jacket, black pants and black tennis shoes, plus her ever present grey hat. Clint realized as much as she wanted music, clothes should probably be their first priority for her.
"It's six and there's no coffee," Paige muttered as he slid into a seat at the nearby table. Despite her eagerness for the drink, she looked extremely well rested.
Clint rolled his eyes from the kitchen. "It's coming."
When it finished up a few minutes later, Clint handed her the mug with the mocha in it. She thanked him and took a drink while he grabbed the coffee pot for himself. The amusement on her face didn't escape Clint as he drank straight from it.
"Not like anyone else is having it," he reminded her.
After ten minutes of coffee enjoyment, Clint insisted they get going. He checked his phone as they pulled on their coats and Clint stuffed his gun in his pocket. Grabbing his case with his bow, arrows, and intel, he led them down to the first floor.
"Car should be outside. Black, with the Shield logo on the front doors." He pushed the doors open into the street. Already traffic had started clogging up the roads and it hadn't even struck 6:30. "C'mon."
Paige hurried out after him, wrapping herself in one of Clint's extra jackets since her jean jacket was full of holes. Clint opened the back door of the waiting Shield vehicle. He gestured for her to get in and scoot across. She did so.
Clint didn't even need to tell the driver where to take them. As soon as both passengers had settled and the door closed, the man dressed in a nice black suit nodded to Clint through the mirror and took off. With the morning commuter traffic backing things up, the drive took about twenty minutes. Clint glanced over at Paige as they crossed the bridge to the Triskelion.
"That's big," she muttered quietly.
Clint smirked, chuckling. "Welcome to the Shield Headquarters. Or at least the one that is public knowledge."
