arrowpocalypse (arrowpocalypse) wrote in knowhereic, @ 2017-07-08 04:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | marvel (animated): canon: francis barton, marvel (animated): canon: torunn thordot, marvel (mcu): canon: bobbi morse, marvel (mcu): canon: sif |
Who: Francis Barton, Bobbi Morse, Sif, and Torunn {Next Avengers & MCU | Canon}
What: Francis Barton is an idiot
Where: Medbay, Knowhere
When: Very late, June 24th {Backdated}
Rating: Medium for language, talk of injury, and probably some feels.
Status: Log, Complete
Notes:
Torunn was already on a thin thread, an almost entirely frayed one that she was barely managing to keep together after the mess that was fighting the Reaper internally like that. She’d seen hell working with the Next Avengers, she’d seen death and destruction for all of her adult life, the stories she heard in childhood were even built around it (even if Tony had Disneyfied them rather extensively to dull those bits) but… that had been something else. Something alive, even more so than Ultron had been. It was just… it was enough to rattle even her - not something easily done. When she’d first walked out of the TARDIS, she’d just been glad her face was healed up at this point, because if it hadn’t been? It’d just split right back open - instead, there was a nice little cut that grazed over the very noticeable scar on her right cheek, the one that was still slowly fading with time and her increased abilities to heal thanks to her Asgardian physiology. That cut was accompanied by no small number of bruises and other injuries - nothing serious, nothing that warranted a visit to medical. Not until she’d been sat down for a few minutes and overheard what happened with Bravo Team. Francis god damn Barton was an idiot, of course he’d gone off and gotten himself hurt, of course he’d gone off and been stupid enough to - she cut her thoughts off immediately and just got up from where she’d been sitting and made her way towards Medbay. Frankly, Torunn had no idea what in the Gods’ name she was going to say to him, no idea what she could even possibly say, but she needed to see him, see that he’d made it back, seen that he was actually passably okay even if he’d need to be laid up for a few days. Right now she didn’t even care about the implications of that - she only cared about actually getting there. And once she was there? She didn’t just sort of wait around, though it did take her a few moments to find Sam and get a rather noncommittal wave in the right direction - she got it nonetheless. At that point, however. Torunn just sort of stopped in the middle of what was still a pretty chaotic scene. She was desperately trying not to lose her cool and it just didn’t seem to be working that well. Once she was sent in the right direction she felt… sluggish and she sort of just… stopped at one point and half leaned against a wall - reaching up to tuck some dirty blonde locks, long since unraveled from the braid they’d been in behind her ear as she stayed there - just catching her breath for a moment. Just thinking about what in the hell she could even say once she got into that room… Perhaps Sif shouldn’t have been surprised over the fussing of the humans. The thing that had wounded her had been of no small make and it’s ability to pierce both her armor and her skin had come as more of a shock than any real sense of worry. The wound was was a clean hit though, through the shoulder and out the other side. No broken bones and, with a little patching, would eventually leave little trace it had ever existed. Part of Sif wondered if the reason why such noises were made about the injury were because of just that, that she was someone who could be helped, someone who could be treated and released, as she was quite certain the same could not be said for many of those who were here. Thanking her healer with a stiff nod, a clap on the shoulder, and the promise of a drink, Sif had quite simply planned to leave. She saw no need to clutter up these halls with her presence, certainly not when it was so busy. She would, however, meander just a bit. She’d stop if summoned by the wounded, console them if they seemed to need it, used commendation about their bravery and skills as the Asgardian balm for their discomfort. She knew, with the small burns, singed hair, and big hole in her right pauldron, she probably didn’t look the best of sights either, but at least she carried with her news of victory. Sif just hoped that was enough. Even here, in this strange of a place, it seemed true enough that victory was the thing for which there was no cost too great to pay. She shouldn’t have been so surprised. Thor’s stories of Midgard and its humans had long been the thing of legend and Sif had expected them to be wrought with no small manner of the oaf’s usual embellishment. Now, since arriving here on Knowhere, Sif wasn’t quite so sure. She had seen Captain America and the Hulk battle aliens. She had seen swarms of ships and soldiers alike descend to a planet that was not theirs to come to its defense… She was standing in a room full of strangers, most of whom had been wounded protecting something they just as easily could have left well enough alone had they wanted -- and they hadn’t. They weren’t satisfied at all with such an idea and a great number of them had put themselves in harm's way in the name of others. It made her wonder if maybe there was more to Thor’s ridiculous attraction to that Midgardian woman than she’d previously thought and…And that thought would have to wait. The sight of the blonde with her braids and her armor that looked a little too familiar. Immediately her mind snapped to the battle. She’d fought alongside the woman, so she was certain there was no injury that would demand her attention here in the healer’s ward. Equally so, she had dodged every attempt Sif had made to know, so it seemed more than reasonable the child of Thor was not here to see her. That only left one option. “Torunn.” Sif’s voice was that odd mix of both stiff and gentle. She knew the girl’s name and, surely, now was a better time to use it than any. “You have come to see the wounded?” It occurred to Sif that maybe she was just here to survey the damage and, at least for a moment, she let herself hold onto that hope. Still, in the off chance that she had missed it, Sif found her eyes rapidly sweeping the girl’s form for any signs of a more serious wounding. Asgardians looked out for one another after all. There had been a lot of things Torunn had avoided on Knowhere; she’d avoided letting Clint parent her, she’d not so subtly been avoiding Francis at least a little bit out of sheer awkwardness (except for those few days the spies had been gone and good Gods, had that been awkward for her, but she’d stayed over there under the guise of everything being normal and still not having an apartment for her and Liho anyway...), she’d avoided whatever their weird version of tequila was because Bobbi hadn’t shut up about it at first, she’d even avoided the hamburgers because she’d heard through the grapevine that they were nothing like proper ones and if she was going to try them she’d be better off just getting a passport and going down to Earth - even if it was only for lunch. But the thing she’d been avoiding most? That was actually a new addition, and uh... not exactly one she was in an emotional state to deal with right now. Certainly not one she’d even expected to run into here in the Medbay… She’d seen Sif get hurt, and it’d even… she’d have to admit at some level she’d been intensely worried and it had hit her chest a bit awkwardly when it happened but the other woman was Asgardian and at the end of the day Torunn knew she’d be fighting fit in a short period of time. Torunn knew about three things about her own version of her Mother and it wasn’t like with Francis where he’d known his parents and her own version was still alive and, well, even just the sound of the other woman’s voice sent Torunn’s mind into a spiral she’d been desperately avoiding. The same way a child avoided getting grounded for accidentally breaking something they hid under some furniture. She’d avoided her because she didn’t want to confirm questions she knew she’d get asked. She’d avoided her because she didn’t wish to talk about Thor or Asgard or any of those things. Torunn loathed talking about Asgard. Torunn loathed talking about Asgardian tradition. She would have plenty of time to talk about it, to begrudgingly put on a face of compliance and accepting that she basically represented it when… Well, she’d have time for that later. She didn’t need to make time for that now, or this century as far as she was concerned. Torunn, however, wasn’t about to ignore the woman - that would have been too blatant, that would have been too rude. And with a face that clearly hadn’t been washed yet and bore that nice little cut over the not so subtle scarring on the right side of her face she looked up and to the other Asgardian. Her Mother had never been an Avenger so, for whatever reason Tony had seen it appropriate… of all the parents that they’d heard stories of, even Hawkeye, had gotten more mention than Sif had and right now? Torunn felt more awkward than she had been just preparing for battle and being in the same transport, the same location as her because the fact that of all the things about her, Torunn remembered her Mother’s hair? That dark hair that was so different than her’s and Thor’s… it caused the woman to clear her throat. “I am looking for a friend.” She answered simply, straightening herself up to stand there - back to the wall as she looked at the other woman, giving her wound a brief glance out of habit. It would have been hard to miss with the way it’d pierced her armor, even though Torunn knew it was nothing she couldn’t take. There was a faint nod from the dark haired Asgardian. The number of casualties and wounded were beyond counting. Some might have found comfort in the fact that as far as residents of Knowhere were considered the number was small, Sif did not. She knew she’d done all she could to prevent loss of life and the destruction of a people, but with numbers as high as they were? There was largely no comfort to be found. Perhaps if she’d known more people here personally she might have, certainly if she’d known the truth about Torunn, she would have, but these things were elusive to her at the time. For now she would simply take comfort in the child of her friend, shrouded in confusion and a lack of understanding that she was, was safe and well. The title she’d given who she was here to see, however, did cause a tick up in Sif’s right eyebrow. She would have been lying if she said she hadn’t been keeping track of what public interactions the girl had, keeping a running tally of who she might know and who she might not. Sif had no intentions of prying, no intentions of doing anything other than keeping the flow of invitations steady, but she knew Thor would have none of that and, what information she could ply him with to likely keep him from being his overbearing self seemed to Sif as something that would be an easy boon. It was obvious to Sif that there were some things, like the way she seemed to avoid proper tradition among those who shared her heritage, which could be used to paint an all the more curious picture. Now, adding to it that one of her friends had been injured in the battle and she had immediately come to see them? Sif couldn’t say she wouldn’t have done it, but the list of who for was short indeed. “Whom?” There was absolutely no needling in her tone. “Perhaps I might better direct to which bed they occupy?” It was simple, flat, tactical more than anything else. Torunn had never been more relieved about being able to pull off neutrality. As much as she wasn’t always for… Asgardian tradition, there were certain things Torunn gravitated towards and they tended to be things that she had either thought, as a child, might rightfully get Thor’s attention in the way she wanted or things that just made their whole lifestyle easier. It was so much easier to settle on that neutrality, that built up wall of strength, to focus on protecting the team. It was so much easier than the rest of it - of showing that even she could have cracks in her armor. The accent, well, that was just something that had happened because she’d wanted it so bad, but at least that was something she could brush off to anyone but Francis at this point. Anyone else wouldn’t question it, they’d just assume she got it from the few years she did spend in Asgard as a toddler - even Francis didn’t know just how bad she’d been about it as a child, by the time she was a teen it wasn’t as bad and that’d been saying a lot because when Francis had first met them? It had been nothing shy of horrible the way she spoke. Now it was just… it was what it was, no more fancy words, but the cadence had managed to even itself out over time so now she just… well she sounded like Thor, frankly, without knowing or realizing it. If she had realized it, she’d have already made it a personal mission to lose the accent. Permanently, and not just like how she did when she got too emotional. “Sam has already told me where --” She caught the fact that she’d almost said he, Torunn didn’t particularly want to have any sort of personal conversation with Sif. Not at all. Personal conversations might lead to things becoming a little too obvious and Gods forbid she talk to Francis who knew what names were engraved on her sword and there was just, well that wasn’t something Torunn was going to set herself up for. Not right now, that was for damn sure. “-- they were. He is working as a medical tech right now and he is familiar with them so it was easy to find out.” She finished, vastly over explaining the situation to the other Asgardian woman as nothing shy of just a blatant distraction tactic. Folding her arms over her chest she gave Sif another once over. If she was going to sit here and try and get out of a conversation about herself, she was at least going to attempt to turn it around - storming off would likely only get her followed or pressed about why she was being so standoffish later and the longer she could avoid that, the better. “They have dealt with your shoulder appropriately?” The much blonder of the two woman said with a nod towards the noticeable dent in the other’s armor. Frankly, Torunn found even herself lucky to have only walked away a bit singed, dirty, and banged up. She’d all but only narrowly missed more than a few injuries herself - but, as it stood, at least she was only left with things that probably wouldn’t scar, Gods forbid she have to deal with another blatant marring of her skin like her cheek. It was by no accident that the team Sif had assembled had featured the Asgardian in front of her, any more than it was that she had kept a close eye on her during the engagement. By the All-Father’s blessed beard, angry and disappointed as she was at Thor, there was no way she was going to let the once intended King of Asgard’s Daughter, Odin’s Granddaughter, come to any harm on her watch. To Sif, it was bad enough she was, no doubt, already going to have to answer questions about the scars the child bore and they were answers she did not have. She wasn’t sure why she’d been so diligent dodged since her arrival, hadn’t even the slightest clue, but it was nevertheless evident. Fortunately at least, there was no one here to ask questions but Sif and she was more than satisfied by mirroring the once over Torunn seemed to give her. “It is adequate.” Sif replied in that same sort of neutrality. “While I will admit to my skepticism regarding the medical facilities here at first, their work was sound enough.” She paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “Their sense of concern is understandably misplaced…” Her voice trailed as she flexed her shoulder slightly. “...I assure you the wound appears far more severe than it is.” In that respect Sif was being entirely honest. A day she received a wound was rare indeed and one where it was but a scratch doubly so. That of course left the more interesting of replies in regards to what Torunn had just asked her. “Them?” The singular word was filled with what was a very subtle application of pride. She’d kept reasonable tabs on those with whom she suspected the woman had ties to, or at least held in some kind of favor. “Was there more than one?” Though it did occur to Sif that perhaps Torunn had meant to visit the Commander of this task, or that perhaps she had missed a statement of status regarding one of them as they had come into medical. Certainly the place was active enough that it was possible. “In either event, I offer my condolence for your wounded.” She clapped a fist against her good shoulder for a moment. “And, if I may, you fought well today. Many more lives would have been lost over the course of this battle if not by the aid of your sword and talents.” It was a, one hundred percent, genuine compliment too and it was marked by Sif taking a half step to the side to make some way for Torunn to pass should she wish. Sif’s plan from there? She’d perch herself against the nearest suitable vantage to curiously watch just how this scene was going to unfold. As much as Sif wasn’t used to medical treatment at this level - neither was Torunn, the medbay was weird and sterile and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like how white everything was, how clean it was (even though she definitely saw the utility there… it was just so stark to her that it was off putting in an entirely irrational way), it was also quiet in a way she hadn’t expected. It was quiet in a way that didn’t really make sense to Torunn. Maybe it was because everything going on required concentration. She had no idea why, really. Medbay was just… it was a shock to her senses in a way similar to how Earth was. It was chaotic, sure, it was crowded, sure… but it was the way that… it was the way that it was so different to anything that Torunn had ever known prior to coming to Knowhere and things like this were still throwing her a bit off - it didn’t help that she was an absolute mess right now even though she was managing to keep that under the surface it just… she just needed Sif to drop it and let her go and she needed to see Francis and she felt like she should check on Clint too, maybe she should have done that first? To tell Francis how his Dad was? But no, she couldn’t. She needed to see her idiot best friend first because if she didn’t, she might get snippy at Clint for letting him take the blow for him and she couldn’t do that, she knew Francis wouldn’t have been stopped in a situation like that and -- her mind was already running way too fast and she just needed to… She gave Sif a nod, “It is nice to have access to medical facilities.” It was the slightest of inclinations that there may have been a lot more to Torunn’s life than Sif ever could have imagined. A lot more than she could have even hoped to have guessed at -- of all the sort of things that Torunn was avoiding her for. Frankly? Sif, or another version of her, being her Mother? That wasn’t even in the top three things she didn’t want to talk to the woman about. At this point? Hell, at this point it may have been the easiest of the things on, what was overall a very difficult list. There was nothing more than that slight move needed for Torunn to take the advantageous offer for her to move on, avoid further conversation. Her arms tightly against her chest she took one step away from the other Asgardian. “There were many injured.” She answered, nothing short of vague and she imagined not so subtle either - just… with any luck Sif wouldn’t feel like this was the point to push it. She hoped this wasn’t, she just wanted to… no she needed to go yell at Francis. Needed to. “I appreciate your praise, though it is unnecessary. It would have been selfish for me to not participate and it would have been of no benefit to anyone for me to act like a child and make such a decision.” She took another step backwards, away from Sif - in the direction Sam had waved her off in, sort of unsure of how to end such an interaction without making it much more awkward than she already felt it was. There were a lot of small pieces that Sif was putting together here in very short order. Torunn’s disinterest in Asgardian tradition, in seemingly having no interest in joining her for proper drinking and revelry after a battle, the fact that the woman had clearly gone through life without medical facilities, and she bore actual scars...it painted a picture that Sif did not at all like. Clearly she had not spent much time in Asgard or, at least, if she had, Thor had been such a damnable fool that he’d actually managed to taint the place for his progeny to the point that she’d fled it. No, that was being dramatic. Thor was a lot of things, disrespectful to his realm not least among them, but she didn’t think he’d do that. Then again, she never thought him to be the type to pass up the Throne for a Mortal woman either, but he’d gone right ahead and done that too….and apparently had a child with someone who wasn’t Sif and probably wasn’t Jane Foster… Maybe Sif didn’t know him as well as she thought. “There are many praises I might sing for you Torunn, each of them necessary because they are deserved to be heard, but if there is one trait which I would never claim to belong on a list of how you are to be described…” Sif let her voice trail as she wanted her go. She wasn’t of mind to press nor pry, though lurk she would. “It is that you are childish in any way.” It might have been off the mark, but she had ne’er protested and had fought valiantly against the monstrous foes. Sif was proud of her, the same as she was of each and every warrior who’d joined her, whether or not they were currently in medical. “May you find your allies well.” She gently rapped a closed fist against her good shoulder before setting herself off and out of the way. She had every intention of watching, more for her own curiosity than not, because who knew what insights this might offer into the world of Thor’s progeny. Thor is a damnable idiot. She couldn’t help the thought. Meanwhile, Francis Barton struggled to actually find any position that was comfortable for himself at all. Not that Francis was going to say a single word about it but,everything hurt. Every bone, every muscle, even breathing hurt. He knew bones were broken, he could tell by the way he felt them shift when he tried to breathe. He knew his right arm was messed up because trying to move it felt funny. The sad truth about it was that Francis didn’t even realize how heavily he’d been medicated, how the absolute agony he would be in right now without the aid of medicine would have made it unbearable for him to even consider the idea of getting out of this hospital bed. He hated it here, with it’s white silence and its scratchy sheets. He hated how people were fussing over him. He hated how there were always people checking on him and poking at him, asking him if he needed anything and then telling him no when he said he wanted to get out of this fucking hospital bed. Why were they even asking him if they weren’t going let him? It was stupid. He was fine. He’d taken worse hits. He was one hundred percent sure of that (and equally so was he probably wrong because they’d never had access to medical painkillers) so why was he stuck here? There were other people who needed it worse than him. It was with that notion that, as stupid as it was, that he was actually starting to try and figure out how to unhook himself from everything so he could get out of here. There was no part of Torunn that could be willed to actually respond to what Sif said about her it… it was just too weird and it hit too close to home. It was just a little too much. Had she heard those exact words as a child it would have… it would have made her whole world, even five years ago it would have made her feel so proud, so worthy to have her Mother speak about her that way, to hear another Asgardian speak about her that way. But now? Now it didn’t even register to Torunn, not in the way it should have, not really. But that made it all the easier to take the out, give the dark haired woman a solid, polite nod and set herself off to find Francis. Sam hadn’t actually told her what room he was in so she was just sort of quietly peeking into doors as she walked along the corredor. The medbay was full to the brim, but she knew he was damn well in here and she knew that, from what she’d heard, there was no way he was just wandering around. Except when she did manage to find him, she managed to walk in on him apparently being idiotic enough to try and do just that. “Francis. Barton.” She said, a harshness to Torunn’s tone that was unmistakeable, though it was usually something left for when James did something particularly stupid. On one hand, she was intensely relieved to see that he was well enough to be moving around a little, well enough to be acting like his normal, idiotic self but… Torunn was beyond reproach at this point when it came to how upset she was and there was nothing subtle about her feelings in her posture. “Lay back down.” She all but spat at him. She’d told herself she was going to keep her cool, that she was just going to check on him, that she wasn’t going to yell at him but… Torunn couldn’t help it, Francis was all she had left and she couldn’t believe that he hadn’t at least told her he was going and… she couldn’t… damn it. He could have died and now he was being irrational enough to try and get out of bed? She just sort of hovered near the door at first, it almost felt like she was stuck there, that she couldn’t actually walk towards him - she wasn’t… she wasn’t emotionally equipped for this, now that she’d already been snippy and now that that moment was past and she was just sort of staring at him laying there... The truth was, she should have been able to handle this, she should have known how to handle this physically and emotionally because... This was always a risk, it was always a risk that… that one of them would die and that she’d get left behind and it was going to happen eventually anyway and… she reached up and pushed her hair away from her face, folding her arms over her chest as she sort of just awkwardly stood there. There wasn’t even an ounce of surprise at the sound of Torunn’s voice, at the tone it held. Honestly, he knew this was coming. He’d half expected it to be Bobbi, though that was largely only because he didn’t think Torunn would have gotten word this fast and because Clint was laid up hardly three rooms away. It was part of why, even if Francis didn’t know it, he’d wanted to be out of here so quickly and so badly. He wanted to be out of here before anyone had a chance to say anything to him, even if he honestly preferred the yelling over whatever else anyone might have had to say about what he did. The fact that it was Torunn though, the fact that she was the first one who had come to see him, that she’d used that tone and demanded he stay in the bed? All that did was draw a long and uncomfortable sigh from him. “I’m fine.” He insisted, in one of the stupidest lies he’d probably ever told. It hurt, literally, to even push the words out from his usual defiance. “Stupid fucking weak ass aliens.” He snarked, still stubbornly trying to find a way to move around that didn’t scream the words ’bad idea’ at him. Even his voice would betray him, all weird and weak and tired. The truth of it though, the annoying, frustrating, maddening, truth? Francis knew he wasn’t fine. No matter how stubborn he was, no matter how many drugs he had moving through his system to dull the nerves that would have reminded him of it without his help, he could just tell. Everything felt..funny...things weren’t moving right...and he knew there was no way in Hell Torunn was going to let him go anywhere anyway. “Look at you though.” He was still trying to figure out what he was hooked up to like he might just yank the tubes and wires off himself and just get dressed anyway. “Surprised you didn’t come out of it looking like you just went for a walk or something.” Which wasn’t at to say Torunn looked bad -- he wasn’t sure she could -- and what the fuck was that? -- What a stupid fucking thing to think right now. “Bet you kicked some serious ass though.” He looked up toward her, as she just stood there and….and actually felt a sense of relief for a moment… Though he’d be good a fucking damned if he knew, or would admit, where that came from. She was Torunn. She was an Asgardian. Of course she was fine. Sif on the other hand, well she just couldn’t help herself. As much as she’d very seriously debated just walking away, about not lurking and seeing just where she went, she hadn’t. She’d stayed largely right where she’d been, leaning on the safe side of a doorframe, out of the way of any real traffic. Certainly there were others she could have gone to see, perhaps even the strange woman who had her face, or the Wizard who’d hurt his hand yet remained strangely absent from the healing ward, but she didn’t. She stood right where she was, watching Thor’s progeny hover her way, room by room. She’d stay standing right there right up until the point she’d caught the unmistakable sound of a commanding voice… And it was only then that she smiled. Torunn took in a deep breath and couldn’t help but set her jaw firmly - biting on the interior of her lower lip as she attempt to keep in everything that just wanted to spill out. Every ounce of her wanted to just rip into him, every ounce of her just wanted to.... How dare he. He could have died and she wouldn’t have even known he’d gone and she wouldn’t have gotten to say goodbye and now she could see that he was in pain, even if he was trying to hide it - she knew him well enough to understand the little fidgets and the way he kept trying to move and was obviously avoiding some positions and without much thought to it she closed the space between where she’d been stood and the bed, “You are not fine, Francis.” She said, trying to gulp down the harshness that threatened to overtake her voice, trying to choke back the instinct to yell at him. He could have died and he had the audacity to lie to her? He had the audacity to sit here and act like everything was just totally okay, totally fine, no issues - she shouldn’t even be worried? How dare he. How dare he act like it was that simple. How dare he lie to her. How dare he try and pull off that he wasn’t fucking hurt. If this had been one of the others? She probably would have marched right up, prodded him right in the ribs and just mocked his little ‘fine’. If this had been anyone else she might have done it. But right now? Right now Torunn couldn’t bring herself to do it. She felt horrible. She’d avoided him for the better part of three weeks… first she used the invasion as an excuse, and then James and Natalie were gone and that was an excuse, and then she’d said okay to stay at the spies’ house because it’d made sense and because she’d felt bad that she’d given in to her awkwardness and she wanted to get some quality time with Liho anyway and… She’d tried not to feel awkward the whole time but she just did. She just felt so awkward. She wasn’t even sure he’d noticed, actually she’d really been hoping he hadn’t but she couldn’t help it. Everything since they’d been at the zoo had just felt… Conscious. “That doesn’t matter.” The Asgardian woman’s eyes darted to the floor as she stood there next to his bed - unfolding one arm to swat one of his hand away from the IV in his arm. “Stop playing with things.” Her tone dropped a little, the anger was quickly fading. But it wasn’t fading because she wasn’t mad any more - it was fading because she was just being crushed by the weight of all of the emotions that had piled upon her at once. All of the emotions that threatened to spill out if she wasn’t careful. And she needed to be careful, as hurt, as concerned, as mad, as… whatever she was, she needed to keep all of that wrapped in a not-so-neat little package, because even if the packaging was ripped to shreds, at long as it stayed contained it stayed… safe. “Hey!” Francis balked at the swat of his hand. “Guy gets smashed up by aliens and the first person who comes to see him starts hitting him. That’s not cool.” And of course, of course the rapid way he tried to move around, the way he’d normally gesticulate while he complained at her came out, and holy shit did that hurt. It hurt enough for Francis to grimace despite all his best efforts to the contrary. It sucked the air straight the hell out of his lungs because he was being himself. Whether some might regard it as a good sign or a bad sign would be hard to say, but there it was all the same. Francis Barton was a goddamned idiot who was probably only going to make everything worse for himself. It was the Hawkeye specialty really and he would have kept it up for a good long while if she hadn’t said what she said and if it hadn’t registered. “Of course it matters. Don’t be stupid Tori.” He never, not once not ever, used her family name, not like she threw around Barton. “No face smashing. No new scars. Not that it matters. Scars are cool. Chicks dig scars...I think. Do they?” It was another thing he wouldn’t have ever said in a million years if he wasn’t doped up and still stubbornly trying to be a smart ass. It had been the same when the team had been getting ready to passport over to the Reaper ship, the same as when Bobbi and Clint had figured out where he was at. The truth was the whole thing had freaked him the fuck out and getting hurt just made it worse. It was why he’d covered it all up under the layers of sarcasm and deflection. It was why he was still doing it, why he was still trying to figure out how to unhook himself, despite the fact he knew it would make her more mad. If she was mad then she didn’t have time to be worried and if she wasn’t worried then he wouldn’t have to be either. It was probably the worst of the worse reflexes he had, but there wasn’t any fighting it right now. “C’mon. Help me bust out of here. Hospitals are boring and…” Francis grunted as a fresh movement, another one too fast and too jarring, sent another one of those weird and painful shifts in his chest. They’d wrapped him up pretty good, he could tell that now without even looking at himself. “And I’m sick of being here already. Get me my clothes or something, let's go to Starlins. Or take me to see your cat.” Really Francis would take any option that was not being in the hospital. Any of the rapid-falling-from-his-mouth suggestions that would cover up the pain in his chest and get him far, far, away from these itchy fucking sheets and the gross fucking smell and just… He needed to get out of here. “Whats not cool...” Torunn glared down at him - her eyes finally moving from the floor to stare him solidly in the face, watching that grimace he couldn’t help but make because he’d been (that grimace which all but tore her to shreds, honestly she almost lost it right then and there, but she didn’t - she managed to keep it together as she glared down at him). “Whats…” She repeated, this was such a bad idea, she should have just… messaged him. Or asked Bobbi to see how he was or… asked Clint maybe? Gone to see Clint first so he could tell her how he was? It would have made sense to talk to Clint, after all, the spies had been watching Liho for her and she owed him a thanks for that and he had been nice to her and she had just threatened him. Well, actually, she’d almost electrocuted him. Though, to be fair on that note, he’d brought up Thor and Torunn had been reeling from the trip to the zoo and adrenaline from fighting and so she’d done the stupid thing of all but giving Clint a warning zap right on his heels. Maybe she’d stop in and see Clint after… but she definitely… she should have gone there first. She should have just asked his parents how he was because… because now that she was standing here Torunn, for basically the only time she’d ever… Torunn might have actually wanted to cry. She couldn’t even believe… has she even actually thought that. But then he’d gone and opened his mouth again and the wave of emotions turned back into anger very quickly. Tilting her head slightly, Torunn clicked her jaw, “Don’t be stupid?” She repeated back to him. “Francis, you could have died.” There it was. There it was and she couldn’t take it back but she wanted to, every bone in her body wanted to. She didn’t want to say that outloud, she didn’t want to think it and then… wow was she an idiot. She was so stupid, he was right, she… she was an idiot. She shouldn’t have come here and her face immediately flushed out of a weird combination of anger, embarrassment, and… and well whatever. Torunn was visibly flustered by the fact that she’d actually said that outloud and immediately took a step back from the bed. If she’d been anxious or worried or mad or anything else before? Now? Now she… damn it now it was… now it was all out there and she’d… It was too much of an emotional response, Francis wouldn’t be expecting an emotional response. That wasn’t what she did. She didn’t do that sort of thing. Even with James she just... sort of thwaped him and called him an idiot and that was that. That was on the rare occasion she didn’t get in between one of the teammates and something… something that could have ended them up right where Francis was. Except where they were from? He’d be a hell of a lot worse off… She looked back down at her arms folded across her chest and shook her head, barely managing to mutter out, “You’re not going anywhere, Francis.” If she didn’t demand it, she knew Bobbi and Clint would anyway. Even Natasha would probably get in on that mess. There was no way, no way Francis was moving from that bed until Mercy or Caitlin said he could. Not a moment sooner. No way in hell. Not a chance would Torunn risk that. No matter how much she just… wanted this to be over. Wanted him out of here. Wanted… She reached up and shoved some dirty hair behind her ear - she had nothing else to say that she could say. Not now that she’d been so abrasively stupid. Never in his whole life, or since he’d known Torunn anyway, had he ever seen her fail to finish a sentence. On a normal day, on any other day really, that would have been a signal so big and loud there was no way Francis would have missed it. If he hadn’t been fucked up, if he hadn’t been in a hospital bed, if he hadn’t just fought nightmare fucking aliens, or dealt with almost losing Clint again (the one saving grace of this whole thing being that he hadn’t), then this would have been so very different. He would have seen the way she looked at him, she would have heard the way she stressed what could have happened, and he might have even understood where it came from. He might have even rationally understood that, had their roles been reversed, he would have sat on her, or found some other way to keep her right there until she was better… But today wasn’t a normal day. It wasn’t any other day. It was today, a day where Francis Barton seemed to set his sights on three things: Getting out of the hospital, being an idiot, and getting yelled at by his best friend, teammate, and arguably partner now that it was just the two of them. “Yeah, well. I didn’t. So come on.” He pressed the issue again, seemingly flippant and nonchalant about just how very right she was in what could have happened. He could have been too far from Clint to help. He could have been too far from anyone to get help himself. He could been crushed by one of those big bastards or picked up and impaled by one of the ones that had knocked him down. He could have failed to save Clint even if he’d been close enough. He could have lost his arm. He could have lost his bow. Worse still was that his parents could have both been gone, that Bobbi could have been shot down and Clint killed, and still worse was that something might have happened to Torunn. Francis had thought all these things, but the rarest and seemingly least important of all was that something might happen to him -- or at least it had been until Torunn had so blatantly brought it up and put it out there. Now, in the wake of all that, it seemed both the archer and the Asgardian were scrambling to put some very real distance between it and any kind of reality in which they both lived. “Seriously. I’m fine. I just need to get out of here. This place is gross and it smells funny and the food sucks and I can’t get any fucking sleep because people are always fucking poking at me with shit. I just want to go.” He wasn’t even whining at her, though neither did he realize just how awkward and honest (at least about everything but being fine) he was being either. It wasn’t at all on purpose. He wasn’t even thinking clearly enough for that to be the case. If he was he might have caught the way her tone had changed, the way she was using words and contraction she almost never used. “Can I crash at your place or whatever? The last thing I want is my Mom hovering and you know she’s going to want to yell at me for being stupid…” His voice trailed off as he tried again to convince his legs to work, to swing him out of bed, and this time he actually managed to get one of them to hang off the side. Francis was going to call it progress. “I don’t care if you yell at me, I’m used to that, plus you’re right so. You have reasons.” The truth of it was Francis didn’t think he could take it. Not now. Torunn? She was alive and part of his team. He wouldn’t like it (if partially because some part of him knew she cared and that made him uncomfortable), but he could handle it. Or at least he thought he could. “We can just watch movies or whatever if you want. I promise not to be stupid…” He was betraying his own discomfort much more than he realized… “I just don’t want to be here anymore.” Torunn just stood back, she could hear him try and move - she could imagine the look on his face, she could place the way he would petulantly and defiantly insist he was fine. She could have predicted everything he said. All of it. Even the bit of honesty. He would use that to deflect, act like he was just.. Okay and then expect her to just what? Pretend this was - no. “Shut up, Francis.” She said , pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she bit down on it harshly - eyes focussed on the floor. She wasn’t going to listen to him, she wasn’t going to just sit here and listen to his stupid pleas and stupid excuses and she just. She wasn’t going to do it. She was slowly… sort of coming down from the sheer shock of the situation and settling into the heart of the matter. Settling into why she was so mad, why she was so upset why she was so… “You didn’t even tell me.” She huffed out. Frankly, Torunn was content to ignore everything he said at this point. All of it. She wasn’t going to listen to him. Nope. Francis was being an asshole, he’d acted like an asshole, and he’d stabbed her in the fucking back. Sure, maybe not in the traditional way but… clearly he hadn’t even bothered to think… he hadn’t even bothered to think of how this would effect people. How it’d kill Clint and Bobbi if something happened to him. How it’d… how it would have meant he abandoned her without… without so much as a warning and a goodbye. Asshole. As thrown off as Francis was by the way she was acting so differently, Torunn could feel the difference. None of these emotions were things she was familiar with on their own, let alone piling on together and then it… okay, so some of them were but they weren’t things she’d felt in years and… This was space and it was robots and it was Francis almost dying and her Mother was here and she’d gotten injured too and she could have been alone, absolutely and totally alone. And… Bringing a hand up she aggressively pushed her hair backwards, not that it was an easy task - between the dirt and the blood and Gods knew what else her hair was a mess of tangles and half unraveled braids and she clenched her eyes closed. “If you move from that fucking bed.” She mumbled under her breath. Torunn didn’t speak like that, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know the words. It wasn’t like she didn’t hear them out of her brothers’ mouths or Francis’ all the time. She hadn’t even realized she’d all but totally dropped the accent and she just… if he so much as tried to move a muscle she might put her sword through him herself just for how much pain this was causing her. It was irrational, it was hot headed, and it was just pure emotion. Wetting her lips she looked up after a moment of silence and looked Francis straight in the face, something that made her stomach twist in knots that she wished she could will away. “And she should, she should yell at you. So should your Father. You didn’t even tell anyone, Francis. I know you would have just… gone anyway --” She clicked her jaw in frustration, “-- but it doesn’t matter. You didn’t tell us. You were only thinking about yourself. You have no idea what that would have…” She trailed off. She shouldn’t be yelling at him. He was injured and yelling at him would probably just rile him up and… and… her arms folded across her chest again, the movement was aggressive as she glared at him. “You are going nowhere until Dr. Ziegler or Dr. Snow say you can.” She choked back something… else… that she… Torunn just needed to get there hell out of there. That’s all it was. She needed to make sure he was going to stay put and then get the hell out of there. Because right now? She was actually pretty sure she was suffering from a massive panic attack and it was making her feel almost… manic. It was a totally different type of panic than thinking she was going to die in space. That had been calm, a calm panic she knew was necessary but this? This she… didn’t understand, at all and she needed… She was going to start shaking if she didn’t get out of there and if he didn’t stay the hell put. If there had been any single moment since they had arrived on Knowhere that could have highlighted how their group was outside the norms of a social structure, this was probably it. Here they were, in a crowded hospital, wounded, stressed, exhausted, and yelling. Or Torunn was yelling anyway. In a few days he’d realize the gravity of it, he’d see the larger picture of the truth behind what she was saying. He had been selfish. He hadn’t been thinking. The latter bits he knew at least, but what else was in there? How it had impacted Torunn, how he’d been just like James? He couldn’t see it yet. Too many walls were going up as she started yelling at him and very few things she was saying were getting through past his gut clenching reflex. “There wasn’t time.” It was a bullshit excuse. “Everyone was just going to argue and fucking try to talk me out of it and people were dying.” They’d both been on the ground, they’d both seen what had happened. “These fucking asshole robots show up and just -- hrngh --” Yelling hurt. He was rapidly being forced out of his responses because his body just couldn’t handle them. It just made him all the more frustrated. It made him just want to get up and walk the fuck out. He wanted to storm out of this stupid fucking hospital. He wanted to go. He wanted to rewind the clock. He wanted to be back in that stupid zoo. He wanted… It didn’t matter. Just like always, it didn’t matter. Most of his life had been about putting his own wants aside. This situation hadn’t been any different. He didn’t want stupid aliens to invade. He didn’t want people to get kidnapped. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt, and that had all happened. Now there was a whole planet of people who were getting hurt because more fucking asshole robots had shown up and decided to wipe the planet out and...and there was just no fucking way Francis Barton was going to sit on the fucking sidelines when there was chance to go help blow people up. Sure, he hadn’t been called to help. Sure he hadn’t been invited to go, but since when had that ever stopped him? Since when had anything ever stopped him? The only thing that ever had was the blonde standing in the room with him, yelling at him about what he’d done, and it was her word ’me’ that had gotten through to him -- and of course he was going to follow that up with something stupid. “You went.” If he could have seen how much his sentiment mirrored parts of her own, he never would have said it. “And what Torunn -- fucking what -- I’m supposed to just sit back and say have a good fucking time? I’m supposed to --.” Another sharp cut, one that probably would have actually dropped him from his feet if he hadn’t still be mostly in the bed. It was enough to force him back against the pillows. “Everyone fucking leaves and I’m supposed to just not go?” Francis was exhausted, his voice was losing it’s umph and its steam. Even with the help of the medicine in his system, his chest felt...strange. Tight. It felt tight. “...Everybody went.” He wasn’t yelling anymore. He couldn’t. Breathing that hard, getting that much air in his lungs to bring volume to his voice, it was just too much right now. “Time?” She tilting her head, slightly forward and slightly to the side. “Time, Francis? I had time to tell you that she had asked I go along with her - yet you think that a good enough reason?” She shook her head. Everything he said, every word, every syllable just cut deeper and Torunn she... why did this feel like this, there was no reason this should feel - liar. She was a liar. She’d known in the zoo and she knew right now why it hurt so much more… why it was effecting her at such a deeper level than you would otherwise have assumed, at such a deeper level than she’d ever felt before. He could have died and he was basically sitting here saying he didn’t care. Of course, that wasn’t necessarily too but Torunn was just too broken to see the bigger picture right now, every nerve in her body was on high alert and why it was totally normal and rational that this is the way Francis would react to this? She just… she couldn’t handle it. She felt weak. She felt ridiculous. She felt childish. And the sounds he was making? They really, really didn’t help. That sound he made when it was clearly painful for him to fight back caused a physical response in Torunn that she hadn’t known was coming and had no way of preventing. Her brow furrowed, her eyes clenched closed, everything about the way her body moved was a vividly visible cringe. She didn’t even know she could react to something like that she just - that sound was basically the nail in her coffin and all of a sudden Torunn was just… quiet. She didn’t leave but she… she did take another step back and in the oddest sort of way sort of just… retracted into herself. “Everyone told you they were going.” Her voice didn’t lose any of its previous emotional, none of its frustration or anything that would make it seem like she was any less upset but it was… it was different. It was clearly a reactionary change to her approach and Torunn, Torunn didn’t like it. “Everyone was not at the same risk. Everyone at least --” She cut herself off, but didn’t give room for him to slip any comment in. “You should sleep.” That was it, that was really all she had left in her. Torunn wished, hoped, wanted to will herself to yell more but that stupid sound he’d made… that explicit and unavoidable admittance of pain even if he hadn’t liked that it was put out there, she just… “I will tell Bobbi you are resting and make sure she does not bother you for awhile.” Torunn basically just… gave in. Because there was no way, no way she’d survive hearing him make that noise again. Francis Barton was going to hate himself by the time this exchange was over. Even the way Torunn abruptly and suddenly switched gears, even as he’d listened to her and not interrupted her like he normally might have (largely because he needed to shut up and let the pain subside), he was already formulating responses to what she said -- which really meant he wasn’t listening at all. He should have been. He’d wished he had later, but he couldn’t. Francis Barton was a wash of things he couldn’t place, feelings he wouldn’t let himself have, and a general mess of frustration, exhaustion, and fatigue. In short, he was spent in every sense of the word, too tired to be smart, and about to do something very, very, stupid. And he was absolutely going to hate himself for it. “And everyone was just going to fucking leave me behind. He could have fucking died if I hadn’t been there.” It wasn’t Torunn’s fault, not at all, but that was where his mind had stuck. If he hadn’t gone, if he’d let everyone just leave him, if he’d taken the time to ask and put up with the undoubted stream of reasons everyone wanted to give him about why they’d leave him, why he couldn’t go...it could have all been gone again. Everything, Clint, Bobbi, especially Torunn...what if he’d lost them all because he stayed behind? What if his not being there had made the mission go wrong and what if it hadn’t been enough to stop the Reapers? What if everyone down there had died because he hadn’t helped? Even the fact that he had gone hadn’t stopped Clint from getting hurt. Hell, it had been his fault because his stupid fucking Dad couldn’t just leave him alone, couldn’t see that…that... Francis couldn’t even finish the thought. He was projecting his own guilt, which largely stemmed from a place that had absolutely nothing to do with his parents. It had everything to do with this stupid hospital bad. It had everything to do with the fact he’d been dumb enough to get hurt, that he had put himself in front of the attack instead of pulling Clint out of the way. There were a million and one reasons why Francis felt terrible, but not a single one of them was the truth. He couldn’t handle the truth, the thing he knew and denied, the thing he told himself wasn’t real despite how Torunn being so upset was twisting him up inside. He even tried to tell himself it was just the stupid injury, that it wasn’t anything...that she wasn’t… “....I’m not tired.” All at once he wasn’t yelling anymore. He was still lying, but he wasn’t yelling. In fact his voice had gone to the complete other end of the spectrum. He’d even turned his head just so, so he didn’t have to look at her. So he didn’t have to see every fucking reason under the sun why he was an idiot. All he’d wanted to do was go with her and he’d gotten that so fucking wrong that...and now they were...and all he wanted to do now was get out of here. He wanted to get out of this stupid fucking bed. He wanted to go back to her apartment. He wanted to hide from anyone and everyone who wasn’t Torunn and forget this whole fucking stupid thing had ever happened… “I’ll stay in bed if it makes you feel better.” Because what the fuck else could he say right now? Torunn didn’t respond, but she did move closer again - untucking one of her arms from the other and somewhat aggressively pulled his blanket back up, “Do not complain about them.” She mumbled before stepping back away, “But yes. You should sleep.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she did want him to stay in bed, not in any way she could actually verbalize, however. Verbalizing that? Okay, actually probably wouldn’t have been as bad as pulling the blanket up like that which now made her suddenly much more anxious, why did she have to go and do that. She wanted to sigh and just turn around and leave but she didn’t. Not immediately at least. Shit. She needed to get the hell out of that hospital room, she needed to get the hell out of that hospital room immediately. Taking a few steps backwards she just sort of didn’t look at Francis - she just sort of… looked around the room a bit aimlessly. “I will let you sleep then.” It made her anxious to say but she didn’t know what else to say. Right now? Gods, she was… she was such a mess. All of this was such a mess... She couldn’t even let her brain work through things right now she just… she needed to get out of there. She’d just… message Bobbi to stay away for awhile or something and then she’d… she’d probably just lurk outside until tomorrow morning. She wouldn’t have it in her to come back in here but she… she wouldn’t have it in her to stay far away either. “I’m not tired.” Francis repeated himself, more out of stubbornness than out of any kind of truth. If he’d let himself, he probably could have been asleep within a matter of minutes. If he’d closed his eyes, if he’d just laid back in the pillows, now that he knew Torunn was okay -- that particularly thought was so quick he would have missed it entirely if it hadn’t been so bold. All of it though was moot. Francis wasn’t going to sleep. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to keep his wits about him, wanted to keep his strength up. He wanted to get himself out of this stupid bed….and now he’d told her he’d stay so he couldn’t. So it was that Francis just...sighed. Slowly the adrenaline of it all was beginning to settle into...into something he didn’t like at all. Now he was stuck here because he said he’d stay here, because he was suddenly very aware that it would upset Torunn if he didn’t, because she was first person to come and see him, because it mattered to him that she didn’t get more upset over this, because he’d done enough to upset her, because he didn’t want to be like James...really, more and more, every reason why he was going to stay here circled right back around to the blonde who looked like she would have done anything she could think of to not be here… And he sure as fuck didn’t blame her at all. Another sigh, another heavy pull at his insides, though if it was from the weight, the exhaustion, or the medicine, Francis couldn’t say. In fact he would have liked to have not said anything, unfortunately however… “...Just don’t fucking leave me alone in here too long..” Francis didn’t even hear himself say it, was entirely convinced he hadn’t at all in fact. He was sure he’d just thought it while he stared off into space, wishing this whole damn day would just be over. There was no way in hell Bobbi wasn’t going to check on Francis, sure, she’d let the doctors check herself out first and given him a little breathing room because she thought it was the right thing to do or something. She didn’t want to ambush the kid, she definitely knew well enough by now that ambushing the kid was not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. But it’d been a few hours since they’d gotten back after everything had gone straight to fucking hell because of course nobody listened. Too many heroes, too little time. Stark was probably never going to let any of them live down for the fact that everyone basically did exactly what he fucking said not to. No heroes. There was a goal and a mission and then the Bartons did the Barton thing and Jason went and got himself hurt - she’d have to check up on Jason at some point too. Even if only out of morbid curiosity to see if he’d managed to get himself exposed or not. And well, she did actually give a damn about other people, believe it or not. She did want to make sure the kid was okay - clearly he’d been through hell and back in his life if vigilante was thought of as a viable option and not cop or agent or something. Either way. Bobbi had a laundry list of people she wanted to check in on - but this one was first, at least now that she’d been cleared by Mercy as not having a concussion from that nice shiner she got being slammed against something in the back of the quinjet when she’d gone to check on something. Now - what Bobbi walked up to was not what she suspect but it did give her at least one sinking suspicion. If Sif was lurking in this hallway, she could be damn sure Torunn was probably already in there yelling at her son. Though, to be fair, she’d sort of expected that anyway. “Has she beat the hell out of him yet?” She said, idly as she walked up behind the other woman. |