Become Another Person (On Hiatus)

IV

People are getting involved now. Only so many Type A's can fit in a room. Enjoy xo

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He couldn't go back to his bed that night. He couldn't walk past the pool of blood and the shattered door frame and lay down in the bed that Loki had been in just a short hour ago. He couldn't take the chance that it would happen again- which was ludicrous obviously, but he couldn't. So he slept on the couch in the living room under the worn blanket Natasha had gotten him in Budapest.

Well, 'slept' was a generous word for the few hours he spent tossing and turning on the not quite soft cushions as visions of Loki's bloodied mouth transitioned into the ruthless smile he'd turned on Clint as he tapped the tip of the spear against his chest. His dreams turned to nightmares, ones he hadn't had in years, ones he thought he'd gotten rid of for good along with the raven-haired demon god. 

Clint was ripped from painful restlessness by F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s announcement that there were two people ascending the elevator to come and fix Clint's apartment. The archer usually tried to be civil even though F.R.I.D.A.Y. was a machine and had no feelings, but he just couldn't after the night he'd had. He just grunted in acknowledgment and pushed himself off the couch. He headed straight for his bathroom where he gargled some mouth wash and then used it to swallow down three pain relievers. 

At the wooshing sound of his elevator door opening, he peeked his head out of the bathroom door and hollered through his bedroom, "End of the hall."

A stocky man with a tell-tale beer belly and a tall, lithe woman with fire-red hair stepped carefully over the blood stain and into Clint's bedroom. Clint, hair still a mess from tossing and eyes blurred from lack of real sleep, stripped off his old shirt despite the company and pulled a new one from his drawers. 

"I'm here to clean the blood and she's going to see what she can do about your door. Sound good?"

Clint didn't even turn around, aware he was just being rude but didn't have it in him to care. "Yeah, thanks." He pulled his sweats off and yanked a pair of jeans out from the next drawer down. Behind him, the pair sounded like they were getting to work, and Clint couldn't ignore it forever. 

He turned towards his bed and looked at the mess of it. His sheet and comforter were thrown nearly off the bed, hanging on by one thick, bundled corner. One pillow was on the floor and the other was ripped. He didn't even know when that had happened. Huffing, he went and sat down on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumping tiredly. He looked on as the duo scrubbed and measured. 

Loki had been right there. Clint closed his eyes against of vision of Loki on the bed behind him, reaching out. Darling.

He shuddered and stood up from the bed. "I'm heading out. Just let yourselves out when you're done," he told the workers. They murmured understanding as Clint pushed into shoes and grabbed his phone. He was just approaching the elevator when it opened.

Steve's face was stoic as usual but broke into a tiny smile when he saw Clint was up and dressed. "Oh good. They sent me up because we all thought you'd be terrible to deal with after last night." Clint raised a brow, doubtful. "Well, all of us except Natasha. She guessed you be awake and grumpy."

Clint was tired of waiting through pleasantries. He just wanted to get outside in the fresh air. "What do you need, Cap?" he demanded, confirming Natasha's bet.

"Meeting and debrief downstairs," Steve offered, tone back to business.

No. Not a meeting. The last thing Clint needed was to be stuck in a room with a bunch of suits. "Natasha already debriefed me." It wasn't an excuse that would work, but he tried it anyway.