bettercallit | (no subject)

Yeah. [ But to whether or not he's replying to the whole Scott thing, the Derek being cute thing, or the Phil thing isn't clear. ]

I was down by the Hall. I saw his name. [ Fidgeting. ] It's okay me checking up on you, right? 'Cause if you want me to go, I'll totally go.

[ He nods, suddenly not all that hungry, but Stiles made the effort, and he likes the kid, he's grateful that he bothered in the first place. They both lost someone. ]

No, stay. [ He means it to sound casual, but it sounds more desperate, pleading almost. ] Unless I'm cramping your style. [ A pause, the humour slipping. ] Sorry I didn't tell you first, I know you were close. Can't've been great finding out like that.

It's okay. [ He shrugs again, helpless in the face of Clint's pain. ] I get it. Pain's sometimes too much to talk about.

[ Both Clint and Coulson looked out for him, they protected him. He owes it to Phil to look out for Clint now. ] I would've bought you beer but the guy in the store totally knows I'm faking now.

Edited 2012-11-12 17:25 (UTC)

[ In spite of everything, Clint's got to laugh at that; he's a good kid, sometimes reminds him of his younger self. ] Yeah, he's a real hardass. He cut me off after my third trip stocking up, said he wasn't selling me anything until the week's out.

[ He absently strokes Fury's head as he nudges it between them, eyes on the burgers. ] If you ever need anything, you've still got me. Can't promise sensible advice, but I'll do what I can.

I'm okay. [ And this isn't about Stiles.

Still, he pulls a slice of his own bacon free from the bun and holds it out to him. It's not enough to make him sick but Stiles just can't resist sad puppy eyes. ] If you like, need someone to talk to -. [ Huff. ] I know I'm only sixteen, but I know a thing or two. And I'm a good listener.

[ Phil was the one who set rules, slapped at Clint's hand whenever he got caught sneaking him food, and it makes him smile to watch, but he doesn't stop him. ]

Think he misses him. He keeps sitting by the door like he's waiting for him to come home and take him out. [ This time the smile is solely for Stiles, however sad it comes out. ] Thanks, kid. [ He looks as if he's weighing something up, and then tentatively. ] Did you know about him back home, what happened?

[ Shaking his head. He could tell Clint he hasn't seen the Avengers yet, but that's a conversation he's not willing to have. ]

Why?

[ He goes back to staring at the room, shakes his head; if he doesn't know then he can't tell him, break the news to him that he's not just gone, but he's gone, gone, forever gone, never coming back gone. ]

Nothing, it doesn't matter. [ Plastering on a smile. ] Bet it was good getting to catch up with your friend, even if it was short-lived.

No, c'mon. [ Flopping into the space beside Clint. ] I am a responsible adult shaped person. [ And sometimes - sometimes even kids can understand the pain of being alive. ]

[ He's hesitant, doesn't want to put this on him, however grown up he may be, but he also does want to talk, a part of him, even if the rest wants to run and run and never stop. ]

He - he's - [ He swallows the lump in his throat, takes a deep breath, and tries again, this time his voice is quiet, almost a whisper, but it doesn't break. ] He's dead.

Oh. [ Fury whines as though sensing something, and Stiles' fingers clench slightly. He could say that nobody really dies in the Marvel universe, but this -- this is too close for comfort. He knew Phil, he knew him and trusted him and he's not some fictional character, not for Stiles. ]

Oh crap, Clint. I'm sorry, I didn't know.

No reason you should. [ He shrugs, not meaning it to be harsh, but because here it didn't matter, here everything was okay and he could pretend. He can't now. ] But people come back. Right? This is the one place where people can come back.

Yeah. Of course. [ Because the City doesn't care who's dead or alive or even if they have been here before. Phil could come back, he could return at any point and he'd still be here. ]

[ He nods, smiles, even makes it believable; he promised Phil he'd be okay, that no matter what happened he'd pick himself up and carry on, and it shouldn't be any different to the other times he's had to.

But he doesn't delude himself into thinking he'll come back, the Natasha here isn't even his Natasha - nothing's that simple. ]

Guess I'm gonna be needing more of those cooking lessons from you, can't live on these things forever, however amazing they are.

No, that's totally fine. [ He grins, bright and trying to be helpful. ] I'm a good teacher. Even my dad knows how to not burn water now so you'll be okay in my capable teachering hands.

Your dad figured out how to burn water? That's one I've never mastered, but god knows I've tried.

We lived off burnt toast for like a month after my mom died. [ Chewing his own burger carefully. ] So I taught myself how to cook. He can now make his own pasta in case I'm not there. It's totally an improvement.

You installed smoke detectors, right? [ He manages a playful smile, taking another bite of burger and a sip of coffee to wash it down with. ] Pasta is a step up from warming cans of food up, tossing things in the microwave doesn't always end so good.

We'll learn pasta first. I make a mean spaghetti bolognaise. [ He wants to ask if Clint and Phil were together, but then maybe that's just reassuring himself of something, it's not his place. ]

Can't go wrong with Italian food.

[ He can tell there's something there, Stiles a little transparent around the edges. ] Don't make me tickle attack you.

What?

[ Flail. ] You're an assassin and you choose to tickle?

You underestimated the power of the assassin tickle, there's training and everything. Stronger men have fallen.

You and Scott would totally be bros.

The two of you have tickle time? 'Cause I'm sorry I've never seen it.

He's like a giant puppy.

[ Literally. ]

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