2013-09-21 - The Rise of Hawkette pt. 3

Kate Bishop has seen better days. Her morning was hellish, with her father showing up at the hospital demanding to know what she had been doing the whole night that led to her being in a hospital bed. A few lies later and Kate realized he didn't really care enough, so she didn't bother lying, or saying anything at all. Maybe she deserved the earbeating. And so, getting home, Kate prepared for college, as to avoid staying home and hearing more about how this behavior of hers led to the Central Park incident, and how much of a pain that was for him to deal with, with so many reporters.

The day in college was just a bunch of preppies giving Kate some troubles for the scratches on her face, some jocks really trying to earn some points with her by complimenting her cast on the arm, but the day was slow and uneventful, all that Kate could hear was the breaking glass, Hawkeye giving her a hard time for it, and she being completely unable to back down or say she was sorry.

It is almost sunset and Kate stands outside her college, walking slowly, the pain meds wearing off, as she avoids taking her family's car, meaning to think, maybe run and do something stupid, her trenchcoat and scarf shielding her from the cold.

Clint Barton's day hadn't been much better. After he left his apartment he had went walking through the neighbourhoods where Kate had done some of her crime fighting. He really didn't know what he was looking for exactly, but as usual what he found was trouble. It seems that the guys who sent men after him weren't the only ones with an axe to grind with Hawkeye, just the most ambitious. There were fights, but none of them serious and Clint was the winner every time.

Somewhere in the process of getting punched and punching in return a thought struck him though and after the last group of thugs learned their lesson he headed to the Avenger's Mansion. There with an ice pack on his head he sorted through the mail that had piled up for him while he was away. Naturally it was all sorted, even if he hadn't touched any of it for ages so it wasn't hard to find what he thought might be there. He opened it to be sure, then so armed, went in search of Kate.

So that is how he finds himself outside the college. He waits by the car at first, carefully out of the way of any of the family servants who might call the cops on the creepy guy with bruises, but when she doesn't show he goes looking. He finds her alone in her coat and scarf heading away from the car.

Of course.

Though that make Clint smile. Even, so when he tries to go up to her, he finds he can't. He keeps thinking about what Jean Grey said about her own responsibilities, and what Tony said about skills and education.

"Maybe it would be better if I just," he looks down at the open letter in his hand. "She's doing alright."

He looks up at her again and sees the cast and sees the determined stride she walks with. "She's going to get herself killed," he says before stepping out of where he stands and coming after her calling "Kate."

Kate stops at the smallest mention of her name, and she knows exactly who it is that is trying to make her stop. Unlike last night, however, Kate is not full of pain-killers and suffering from bloodloss, and with her iron will she turns to face Clint, prepared to die but not wilt. She is not going to be hearing she should quit and be a good little girl again, she can't, she won't do it.

Although Kate tries to mask the hostility she feels towards the situation, Clint might realize she looks a bit grumpy, frowning some, which is a good look on her, somewhat cute, although it might be unwise to say that to her. At least now. Hiding her good hand within one of her trenchcoat's many pockets, she tilts her head.

"Nice. Your turn is up. Please, let it all out, I have yet to hear from my dad for a third time, my sister and my buttler. Maybe someone on the way home has a piece of his mind to give me aswell."

Yeah, Kate does look cute when she's mad. Even if she is a bit the worse for wear. Clint for his part looks a touch befuddled and a bit more bruised. His knuckles are scratched and bloody too.

It's a wonder campus security hasn't run him off.

Though, he's dressed a bit better at least in his brown leather jacket and purple t-shirt with the stylized gold H on the front. The jeans though, those are the same. Clint comes up to her and stops and for a moment stares, but then he says "We should have coffee. I don't think I can do this without coffee."

Kate looks at the hand without turning her head. Oh God, more thugs were after him today. He is going to leave my hide raw, she thinks, before Clint asks for coffee. The girl's first impulse is to run, but she holds on. She is -not- running. The second one is to punch Clint, but she is not doing that either. Not now. Her third one, hwoever, is the one she acts upon, and after nodding briefly, the girl approaches the taller man, using her scarf to, while taking his hand, clean the blood away, in silence, looking a bit annoyed and cute. Once she is finished the girl turns to Hawkeye and shakes her head.

"I have some painkillers... you might want one when we get there, Mr. Badass.", she says, looking around to make sure her buttler is not onto them, one arm holding her cast, as if she has a dire need to scratch inside.

Clint looks down at his hand as Kate cleans it. "No, don't that probably cost more than my entire outfit," he says but he doesn't move his hand. He tucks the opened letter into his pocket and runs his hand through his hair, he searches for something to say and settles on "Those things suck, don't they?" after a glance at her cast.

After that eloquent moment he puts his hand around behind her back, and begins to guide her to the coffee shop he saw on the way here. "How are you feeling?" he asks.

Kate definetely feels awkward with the hands around her, arching a brow but saying nothing. What's gotten into him? Looking down for a moment before snapping her head back up, reminding herself never to to show any cracks on her armor, the girl just shrugs, wincing as she is reminded she shouldn't, not with her shoulder.

"S-Super.", Kate starts, blinking as if to keep the blinding white lights of pain out of her field of vision "... not too great... probably feeling as bad as you are looking. What about you?", she asks, frowning as if who says 'Why the hell did I ask about how he feels?', shaking her head and moving on, before adding. "I am not quitting. That hasn't changed."

Clint seems to find the whole hand thing a bit awkward too especially after he misreads the wince as an objection and stops after a few more steps, letting his hand fall back to his side.

He walks on listening to Kate, keeping an eye out for mad butlers or campus security. "That bad, huh?" he says loosening up a bit from his previous bout of awkwardness. "And me? I'm uh, feeling about the same. I've got a headache that won't quit and my life right now is basically about as happy as Johnny Cash song," he lets out a breath. "And yeah, I know. We're going to talk about that."

He leads her to the shop and opens the door for her, letting Kate lead the way. "Somewhere quiet," he says as far as his preferences go.

Kate walks in slowly, looking at the tables at their disposal, choosing one on the far end of the cafe. It is close to the bathrooms and kitchen, good escape routes, should anything happen.

As she walks towards it and takes a seat, wincing again, the girl comments off-handedly. "Well, if you've come here hoping you would find someone beaten and broken, it ain't me, babe.", the girl says, laughing somewhat in pain, before shaking her head. "Sorry. I just... I had to get it in there.", Kate says, with a surprisingly sincere smile at Clint. She looks dramatically different from the girl who he just found on the street a few minutes ago, and before Hawkeye can say anything, it's her that takes the lead.

"Look. You... You come across as a nice man, H... Mr. Barton... but... I really don't want to hear another sermon about how much I am not fit to do what I -need- to do. More than that... I can't -take- another painkillerless sermon without really snapping, so... please. Be kind.", and she smiles some.

"Clint, you can call me Clint," Clint supplies when Kate fumbles for what to call him. "Or Hawkeye, people know who I am," he shrugs a little. Now it's his turn to wince. What a pair these two make.

He pauses then to order a triple espresso when the waitress comes and when she's gone he continues.

"Not here to lecture Kate. I am here to talk. As to painkillers, I'm the last person who can lecture someone about that sort of thing, but if your offer of one stands I'll take you up on it," a smile then but it's sort of only half there because he know what's next. "I-," he begins and looks for that coffee it would be easier with coffee. "I know what happened in the park. I get why you have to do it. If it were me I'd have to do it too," he says and waits for a reaction mostly because he doesn't know what to say next.

Kate Bishop's first reaction is to get very, very self-conscious, lowering her head some, still looking at him, but almost as if she felt subconsciously somewhat lesser, and Clint can tell she hugs herself wit hher one good hand. The girl swallow some, and quirking her eyebrows it becomes obvious she finds this a -very- weird way to start a conversation. She doesn't like it, and just mentioning it makes her look all that much more victimized by her current state. Kate simply stares at Clint for a moment, shocked that he... who would say a thing like that right off the bat?!

"... what the hell is wrong with you?", Kate asks lowly. There is no aggression in her voice, as if she is genuinely perplexed that he is so clueless. As well as she seems to take this, fro mwhat she says, the girl's body seems to shut itself, and it's obvious there are scares that need healing. Still, Kate soldiers on, knowing the man before her is not a bad guy. Maybe he is just -that- bad with these things, and repeating that to herself the girl sighs and reaches for her orange box, full of her painkillers, sliding them over to Clint.

"S-So. What did you come here for?", she gives him a freebie.

Shit. That was a mistake. He /is/ bad at these things, just about everyone who knows him knows that much. He flinches and quickly palms the tablet and dry swallows just so he has a moment to gather his thoughts, figure out what he should say next. Also, because, pain killers kill pain. Once the pill is down he has no more idea what to say next than he did a moment ago. "I'm sorry," that's always a good spot to start. "I should know better, there's a thing, in my past, a couple of them, and yeah, I don't like talking about them either. So, I just wanted to say I knew. I don't like secrets I didn't want us to go down this road and have you find out I knew and didn't tell you," The coffee arrives to save him and he thanks the waitress and almost drains the tiny cup in one go. He sets it down with a small clatter of cup and saucer. Are his hands shaking?

"Anyhow, I checked into your work, walked those neighbourhoods. Met a few more of your friends, anyhow, you do good work, /really/ good work," Clint explains still awkward but he means every word. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out that letter he brought, the one ripped open. He slides it across the table, it's addressed to Hawkeye at the Avenger's mansion. "But don't take my word for it, this was meant for you, looks like the bad guys weren't the only ones to get their Hawkeyes crossed."

"We are not in a romantic comedy, Clint, don't worry...", Kate says, still eyeing him completely dumbfounded. Is this man's supply of awkward endless? It's kinda cute, but still... it has to end at some point! The girl is about comment on it when Clint shows her the letter, and Kate narrows her eyes upon seeing it. -That- is strange... but Kate takes the letter anyway, and reads it.

It is obvious right off the bat that Kate connects with this person, and for this moment she can picture herself writing this letter, if anyone were there for her, when it happened. She remembers the feelings of loneliness, of helplessness, of praying to God and the Devil for some reprieve, and as she reads the letter Kate can almost picture how she would have felt had someone shot a bolt through that man's shoulder. How relieved she would be, how blessed she would have felt.

Still, what marks the young girl the most is the woman's happiness, and the one single pat on the back she got from someone else other than herself ever since she started her career. Maybe she is doing a good job after all. All these emotions come crashing down hard on Kate as she, still holding that letter, never letting go of that letter, wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. For how long have those been falling, she has no idea, but Clint will know they suddenly just happen. Kate's lips distort, her red lipstick making her anguish even more noticeable, and for a moment the girl tries to control her tears, shielding her face with her forearm, sobbing, turning away from Clint, but she can't. In her desperation all she can do is ask a question, why can't she just control herself!?

"Oh God... please...", she tries ordering herself to stop, her voice strangled as her throat dries, tight. Kate has never thought herself as girly or dramatic, but apparently she had some pretty unresolved issues, and it gets her by surprise. Right now, she looks like a girl who had to endure what she did by herself, and is isn't pretty. People around her arch a brow at this, some even leave.

When Kate breaks down across from her Clint nods his head towards the far corner of the booth and moves himself on his side of the booth to block people's view of that corner and give her what privacy he can. He doesn't say anything though, he's just there, and he puts his hand on the table in case she needs it. Hoping to god that that's the right thing to do here.

It takes a bit of time, a bit of time that Kate cannot control, crying, until the girl can do anything else, and it might just surprise Clint. Looking at him, over her shoulder as she hunches over the bench, the girl seems angry, and then utterly shocked, at the man, before letting out a very loud, and somewhat frustrated "OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.".

In that moment the girl, now with her tears under control, stand up hastily, shaking her head, and forces herself besides Clint on the booth, even going so far as to lower her head to force him to put his arm around her. Shaking her head once she accomplishes it, Kate just sighs against the man's chest.

"I hate you, Clint.", it's all she utters, serious as hell, frustrated, but meaning none of it. She still grips the letter with one hand, and if the hug and crying is any indication, Hawkeye is the first, and only, person to ever see this side of hers, and she knows it. Still breathing hard, she says nothing, every so often shaking her head and muttering: "Unbelievable."

Clint holds Kate close keeping a protective arm around her. "I know," he says when she tells him she hates him. "You're in good company." It's not so much a joke but a statement of fact. He is quiet and holds her for a moment before speaks again "Sometimes the applause is all that keeps us going. I thought you should hear some of it."

Kate smiles some, not doing anything else but acknowledge -in her head- that Clint actually did something -very- sweet, and if there is one thing Hawkeye II has improved over her predecessor is on empathy. This are his apologies, and realizing so the girl straightens on the bench, still besides him, taking a sip of his coffee without really asking.

"You... didn't come over here just for this, I can tell. If you could it is obvious you would have just mailed me this letter, as you look like you would be more comfortable watching your parents have sex than looking a girl cry. So, what is it that you want to say, Clint?", she asks, not even looking at him, knowing he would have problems with her redenned nose, flushed cheeks and teary eyes.

Oh thank god. He almost says it out loud but the sudden reduction in tension in his body says it just as loudly. He doesn't speak right away, he just snorts at her drinking his coffee. "It's bad to drink that much caffeine when you're on painkillers you know," he says in bald faced smiling hypocrisy. He tenses for expected retaliation.

A touch more seriously he continues "You asked me to train you, and if you still want my help I'll do it. Though there re some things you need to accept with this however," he says and with his unencumbered hand he takes a sip of his coffee. "First, I am a total mess and you're probably going to regret working with me just about every day. Second, what we do is /amazing/ but completely insane. Third, it's probably going to kill us, and if you want to live the smart move would be to walk out the door right now, go back to your family's car and go marry some guy who's family has a street named after them. Anyhow, if you can accept all that I'm in."

Kate leans away from Clint for a moment, before she arches her brow and peers into his eyes. It takes a moment before she starts nodding, the painkiller mention passing by completely, as she raises a hand to shake Hawkeye's.

"It's okay. But just so you know, I am not going to be kid, kiddo, babe, sis, cutie, bunny, honey, mimi, Jane, sweetie, sugarplums, or anything like that, got it? Also, I can go as fast and as hard as you, so don't patronize me. Do we have a deal?"

Clint smiles at Kate's reply, though he meets her eyes. "No, you're really not. If you were I wouldn't need to train you, but you /are/ good. Really good, probably better than me one day but not today," he says honestly. "Otherwise, no problem I won't call you kid, kiddo, babe, sis, cutie, bunny, mimi, Jane or sugarplums," he holds out his hand in return. "We've got a deal."