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

[wewithoutwarmth]

Pepper has been doing a very similar job to Coulson. She lends a hand when they need it and she's not busy working with Tony and he's busy doing repairs on his ship at the moment.

She knocks on his door and has a cup of coffee in her hands. She knows what he's doing and who's on his mind, psychic powers not needed and she thought he could probably use the company, if not just the caffeine.

"Mind if I join you' she questions with a small smile.

[forthoseilove]

He looks up at the knock, and despite the strain he has a smile for her when he sees her. "Not at all. Pull up a chair," he says, gesturing at the other side of his desk.

Pepper's always good company; he doesn't see her often, compared to some of the others on the ship, but it's always good to.

"Is there something that brings you here, or did you just come to visit?" he asks, though he's not particularly against either one. Well, unless there's something big going on, but he's fairly certain he'd have heard already if there was.

[wewithoutwarmth]

She smiles offering him the coffee. "Just a visit, don't worry. Nothing's exploded."

Which really, is not the worst thing that could happen but she's trying to be light.

"How are you?"

[forthoseilove]

Well, it might not be the worse, but it wouldn't be pleasant, either. It's always good to know they won't be falling out of the sky yet.

"As well as can be expected, while we're getting things settled. I'll be doing better now that I have this," he adds with a smile, holding up the cup before taking a drink. "What about you?"

[wewithoutwarmth]

It is true and considering Tony is involved, it's always a possibility.

She nods. "I thought as much. It's been a little hectic everywhere." She smiles a little at him. "At least I think things should be calming down a little after the intake is done. Or well, ass calm as it ever is."

[forthoseilove]

"I can handle our usual level of busy. This is pushing it." He probably wouldn't say it to most of the people on board with them, but Pepper is different. Not likely to take it as something to report to Fury, or something to crack jokes about, for one thing, which already takes out most of the non-former-student personnel.

He eyes the file in his hand for a second before shutting it and setting it on the desk, leaning forward against it. "What have they got you doing, when Tony can spare you for a minute?"

[wewithoutwarmth]

She nods, smiling a little tiredly at him. "I understand," she agrees. It's..." She makes a gesture with one hand.

A shrug. "Nothing interesting. Mostly just the intakes that you're not working on. I think they didn't want to stick you with everything."

[wewithoutwarmth]

Tony doesn't know why he's coming to see Loki, he really doesn't. he tells himself it's to make sure he's not hurting himself too badly but it's something more than that. He's here because he wants to remind himself why he does this.

"having funn," he asks conversationally.

[roomforonemore]

He smiles, purely predatory, when Tony walks into the room, and though his wrists don't stop their constant tugging and turning in their bonds, the rest of him grows unnaturally still. It's like he's waiting to pounce, and there's always the chance he will before he remembers the bonds, even as he feels them.

It's why they don't tie him down with anything close to his throat anymore, and also why they're careful not to give him length enough to move.

"Almost as much as you," he answers in a low voice, one that could be scary if he wasn't so carefully locked up. "Come to see the show?"

[wewithoutwarmth]

"I don't know," he replies with a shrug. "I've heard the act is pretty weak?"

Is he antagonizing him a little? Why yes, yes he is. But he means it...not lovingly exactly but close.

[roomforonemore]

He snaps his teeth, leaning forward a little, but it's not enough to pull against his bonds, not a complete loss of control. He doesn't move back again, though the position is uncomfortable, just stays there, eying Tony for a long moment.

"Where is my brother?" he demands. He knows -- in what passes for the sane part of his mind now, if nothing else -- that they won't let Thor see him while he's like this, but it never does stop him from asking.

[wewithoutwarmth]

"He's around," Tony says without missing a beat. "Why?"

If things calm down, they could probably bring Thor down to see him if that's what he's after but keeping them is usually better for everyone involved.

[roomforonemore]

"I want to say hello," he answers, the cold smile falling back into place as he strains a little more against his bonds.

He knows Thor will let him out if he gets him here, that he can talk him into it at least. It's just a matter of getting him here alone, or taking out the person who brings him, but that can be arranged, he's already calculating angles and possible weapons.

[herbestdisguise]

She's watching Clint from the doorway her eyes following his hands. She wants to com closer but doesn't, forcing herself to watch from afar.

In her mind she can ear the sound of bodies falling every time he hits those targets, hears the rhythmic thud of hem dropping one by one.

But that's just her mind, not what's actually happening and for the most part she's quite aware of that.

Still, she doesn't get too close. Doesn't want to get blood on her.

[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's been watching Steve, watching him have his day and not saying anything. Bruce ha been with her and they've muttered softly about it but neither have acted on anything.

Finally, she does.

Sitting next to him, she leans close, her lips almost brushing his ear.

Then she starts singing. Old songs, nursery rhymes, anything that sh can remember. She sings and sings staying close to him, making sure he can hear her.

Bruce watches, and soon enough, he starts singing as well, his mind and his voice perfectly in sync with hers.

[roomforonemore]

He closes his eyes, but other than that nothing changes for a while. He still rocks, he still stares into the distance, and he may claw a little less frantically, he still tears at his ears. He tries to focus on the singing, but there's still the babble of voices beyond it, there's still so much more leaking in.

Little by little, he leans towards her, until he's resting against her side and his head finally drops to her shoulder. His hand is trapped awkwardly between them, pressed to his ear, but it's nice in it's way. The almost-pain draws his focus.

His eyes shift from their spot in the darkness for just a second, seeking Bruce out before drifting back to the comforting black. But it's enough to be sure that he's there, enough to show Steve that he's not this loud from far away, and he needs that.

It takes another little while, another bout of rocking his knees lightly back and forth, before he starts to hum with them. His voice hoarse and quiet, but at least it's a good sign.

[herbestdisguise]

When he looks at him Brice nods once then approaches, sitting across from them and still singing.

Natasha doesn't move, just keeps singing, keeps the noise of er voice as close to him as she can. She knows it's not perfect, knows that it's not exactly what he needs but it's all either of them have to give them.

Eventually, she does move just enough to wrap her arms around Steve and Bruce moves closer still, the two of them trying to block out the world every way they know how.

[roomforonemore]

He reaches out for Bruce's hand when he moves closer and closes his eye, shuddering a little as he hides in Natasha's shoulder. He doesn't have to say thank you to the two of them, not out loud, but his mind says it loud and clear and tinged with just a little sheepishness, maybe a little shame.

He's not better, not exactly and not even by the weird measurements of 'okay' that they have left to them, but it helps. It helps just to know someone's there and understands, it helps to have someone try and block things out. It helps to not be alone.

[herbestdisguise]

They know, of course they know. They would understand even if his mind wasn't offering it out to them. They all have their days, the days where functioning becomes something that is only a long lost dream. They know what it's like to be grateful.

Natasha rocks him gently, singing and swaying and occasionally moving to wipe the tears away while Bruce just holds on, just exists there and tries to be calm tries to be assuring as he can.

[roomforonemore]

He doesn't know how long they've been sitting there before he can bring himself to look up at the world again. He's singing softly by the time he does, his throat aching, his shoulders and side and ears sore from awkward angles and scratches and tension.

He takes one slow breath and then another, not letting go yet, but not holding on as tight either. The echoes of the world are still loud, but he could hide it now if he wanted, could pretend to be normal. He's very good at acting normal. But he doesn't have to do that until he lets go.