Duyên || Clint Barton

025 || routines

•••

"Morning"
I blinked deeply at the bright light intruding my vision, a blurry figure stood by the side of my bed. Instincts kicked in and I lurched forward, my legs wrapping around their torso and flipping the person on to the floor.
"Grace! Fucking hell!" Nat groaned, smacking my thigh.
"Ah shit sorry" i mumbled as I climbed off of her, scrambling backwards so I was learnt against the wall, my head dizzy from my sudden movements, "old habits"
"It's alright - at least I know you can handle yourself" she laughed quietly, heaving herself off of the floor and brushing her trousers off, "Steve made breakfast. You're joining us, c'mon"
Her tone left no room for argument so I followed without a fuss - okay that's a lie I complained the whole way there, moaning about being forced out of the room I had been given. My arguments instantly died at the sight of pancakes sat on the table, a smile pulling at my lips.

Whilst on the run Clint and I barely had time for good home-cooked food like we used to having, the sentiment being too much for us. Instead we survived on ready-meals, take-out and truck stop food, choosing necessity over nicety. So, it was no surprise that my mouth was watering like a fucking hose.

"Blooming hell Cap" I whistled as I sat down, instantly putting one of the pancakes on my plate, "these look damn delicious"
The blond just smiled appreciatively, his mouth too stuffed to reply without spraying food everywhere as I doused the plate with syrup. Nat just shook her head at my change of heart, sitting opposite me, piling food on her plate as well, though in a slightly more polite fashion.
"Now that I've got your attention I thought we should tell you about our schedules"
I tilted my head at Natasha questioningly as I ate another mouthful, silently urging her on.
"People come and go from here quite a lot and we both have things we have to do throughout the week. Steve has group therapy on Friday afternoons, I have council meetings every Wednesday and Saturday at 3 'til 5. Bruce normally visits on a Sunday, if ever, and Rhodey and Carol would always call ahead if they were coming - the same with Rocket and Nebula"
"Who?"
"Carol saved Tony and Nebula from space. Rockets a raccoon" Steve answered half heartedly, ignoring my still-confused look before continuing to eat.
Natasha rolled her eyes slightly at his attitude, though she was obviously biting back a smile, before continuing.
"Tony and Pepper have their own place and Thor is in New Asgard with his people doing god knows what, he's checked in twice since we killed Thanos - he's not looking so hot"
I just nodded, reaching for my fourth pancake.
"And I need to know this why? What did you have planned for me?"
"You should know where we are, so you can start making your own routine"
"Huh"
"Because you are going to make a routine"
"Yes ma'am" I mock saluted, pushing my half-eaten plate away from me as my eye caught the time, "I'm gonna go for a shower. Thanks for the food Steve"

•••

An hour after my shower I was getting restless, my wandering feet leading me to the gym.
After doing brutal exercise almost daily for a few months, my body was feeling some withdrawal symptoms, muscles buzzing with unused energy. Eyeing the punching bag, I decided it'd be a good way to get rid of most of my frustrations, wrapping my hands with some tape lying on the bench. After a few stretches, I started ruthlessly plowing the punching bag, making it creak with the forces of my hits. I kept this up consistently for roughly an hour, basically standing in a puddle of my own sweat, only stopping when someone cleared their throat beside me.
"Who pissed you off?"
I snorted, rolling my eyes at his slightly smug expression.
"Hey Rhodey. Nice to see you're not dead" I said bluntly, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.
"Same goes to you - we really weren't sure 'til a few days ago - what with you taking off and everything"
"Yeah well we were kind of left out of the get together" I bit back, eyes narrowing slightly at the disappointment in his tone, "and I'm pretty sure that's not the kind of invitation that gets lost in the mail"
Rhodey shrugged, his features shifting to be slightly more apologetic.
"Seen anyone else yet?"
"Except you, Steve and Tash? No. I thought you were meant to be in Mexico"
"We lost track of C- him again. Got sent back early"
My shoulders tensed, a forced hum escaping my lips. Coughing through the awkward silence, I gestured back towards the punching bag before resetting my stance, not wanting to carry on the conversation.
"If you ever need to talk-"
"The punching bag is a good enough therapist thanks" I mumbled, renewing my attack.