Clint lifted one shoulder. "I'd appreciate it," he said. "Seems worth it to me." And besides, it's not like there was a whole lot else for him to spend his money on. Living in the Capitol was expensive, but he'd always drawn a nice salary from his job, one of the few good side effects of Stane's desire not to look like the bastard he was.
As Bucky gave him permission not to worry, Clint groaned and threw his hands dramatically up in the air. "Everybody tells me the same damn thing when I ask how they are," told Barnes. "'Awww Barton, that's sweet of you but you don't have to worry about me after the night you've had.' Ugh. Fuckin' pity. I can't stand it. Lemme be clear, I am being a selfish asshole when I ask you how you are. It is way the fuck easier for me to concentrate on anyone else's problems but mine."
This really was some powerful shit. He wouldn't have made anything even close to that speech without Peggy's miracle drug in his system, and he sure as hell would've sounded more than mildly exasperated when he made it. He took another sip of his own tea and shrugged. "It sucked. But I'm pretty sure what nobody's saying is that it sucked pretty equally for all of us. Tony had to watch out for me all night and he's not used to that, Scott had to watch his daughter pal around with Gamemakers, Thor just fuckin' hates being in the Capitol at all, you three had to deal with all your shit..."
Clint shook his head. "Pretty sure we all had one hell of a rough night. Sure hope nothing else like that happens in the future." He laughed, and because he was high there was only a trace of bitterness in it, although that began to dissolve when he watched Moo butt her head against Barnes' hip, demanding to be pet. "She's got your number, Barnes," Clint chuckled then, he tipped his chin up thoughtfully. "Or do you prefer Bucky? I was never sure."