But I stood my ground and I'll fly once more, it's the last oath that I ever swore

[ibelieveinarrows]

Steve is not having a good day.

That's fairly rare for him. Normally he can keep it together, or at least have the appearance of keeping it together. His bad days are quiet affairs, private ones, not the screaming, crying breakdowns he's seen some of the others come to. Usually.

He's not screaming now, but he is crying, curled in the quietest, darkest corner he can find to squeeze himself into. It's still too loud, too much. He's bleeding from crescents on his palm and if he keeps scratching at the skin around his ears he's going to start bleeding there too. He's not sobbing anymore, at least; tears are just slipping quietly down his face as he sits there, rocking slightly and trying to focus on the sound of his own breathing. Anything to calm down, to stop listening to all the thoughts that pass through his brain. To be better, like he usually is.



Clint is practicing, holed up with the targets and his weapons. And it is weapons this time, plural; his favorite bow is in his hands, quiver strapped across his back, but there's a gun lying on the bench and a target full of bullet holes instead of arrows among the ones he's been working with. He still likes his arrows better, but it never hurts to stay sharp with multiple weapons. He's considering trying throwing knives too.

But for right now, it's him and the bow and the bullseye. Anyone dropping by should maybe try not to startle him.



Coulson has files in hand, but he's not looking at them at the moment, his eyes closed and the other hand rubbing his temples. He needs a second before he can dive back into it. It's important, looking over the evaluations of the newest rescues, figuring out who needs to be put into safe keeping and who might be approached to help them out, but it's also hard to read about what these kids have been through. This girl is only a year younger than Darcy, and he can't stop putting his daughter in her place; it turns his stomach to think about it.

He'll go back to it, but he needs a moment first.



Loki is tied up, so securely that he can't slip the bonds, even just enough to get to one of the knives they missed when they took his weapons. It's for his own safety and everyone else's, this time, and just in the nick of time. It wouldn't have been much longer before he'd done something to endanger them all.

He isn't gagged, just tied, and he's humming to himself as he works against his bonds, not accomplishing anything but rubbing his wrists and ankles raw. It doesn't seem to bother him very much, but then, not much can get through the manic fog at the moment.

Comments

[ibelieveinarrows]

He knows she's there for a while before he says anything. Not as long as she's there for -- which doesn't surprise him at all -- but definitely a while. He just keeps shooting, though, until his quiver runs empty and he lowers his bow.

He glances back at her as he hits the controls to pull the targets closer and the mechanics whir back to life.

"Not feeling talkative today?" he asks with a small smile.

[herbestdisguise]

She shrugs at him, then takes careful steps closer until she's standing next to him.

Her eyes fall on the gun and she looks at it carefully, her fingers itching to hold it.

[ibelieveinarrows]

He pulls an arrow from the target before turning to follow her line of sight, considering for a moment before he shrugs. "Do you want a go? I can set it back up."

[herbestdisguise]

Her fingers twitch but she shakes her head. Instead, she moves forward, holding her hand out so that she might see the arrow.

[ibelieveinarrows]

"What, this?" he asks, wriggling it a little, although he doesn't really expect a verbal answer. "What for?"

He hands it over, though, offering the back end out to her with one hand and pulling one free from the next target with the other.

[herbestdisguise]

She examines it closely, considering the thing before she smiles at Clint and throws the arrow with enough force to have it hit and stay in the target.

[ibelieveinarrows]

He takes a look at the target and grins, turning back to her. "Nice. Even if it's not a bulls-eye. Want to give it another try?"

[herbestdisguise]

She nods, holding out her hand for another. She probably shouldn't., should go somewhere else, do something else, but this is almost...fun.

[ibelieveinarrows]

He doesn't hesitate to hand it to her, taking a few steps back so that the area is clear for her to move. Granted, she probably doesn't need it, but he might as well give her room. Anyway, it's easier to watch her movements from a little bit behind and off to the side.

There's a few arrows in his hand, and he'll offer up another one when she finishes her throw.

[herbestdisguise]

She throws the arrow, hitting the bulls eye witb ease. It is easy enough and she turns to him, taking another arrow and makes a spiral design with the arrows she has left.

Then she turns to him and looks quite pleased with herself.

[ibelieveinarrows]

He laughs, inspecting her handiwork and then giving her a nod. "Decorative. I don't know whether to pull them out or use it as a wall hanging," he adds, teasing her just a little.

[herbestdisguise]

And that? Actually makes her laugh a little. Not much but it's enough to show that her silence is a chosen act, not one she has to do because otherwise she'll be spilling out all the thoughts around her.

[ibelieveinarrows]

He grins, looking a little pleased with himself as he turns to bring the target forward and get his arrows back. Most of the people on board look like they can perpetually use a little cheering up. He takes it as a personal victory when he can manage it.

"Maybe you should try with the bow sometime," he says thoughtfully, as he pulls the arrow free of the bulls-eye. "See whether you do better with it or by hand."

[herbestdisguise]

She shrugs, moving to help him free the arrows. Her eyes occasionally drift back to the gun but she doesn't make a move towards it, instead rolling an arrow between her hands and watching him.