Clint looked at him with a dazed expression on his face. Oh...okay.
He would have legitimately sent him a postcard, whether he was being sassy or not. The humor of what he had said didn't really register in his mind right now. He had missed the man's humor...he had missed the man himself. All of him, Clint had missed their interactions which seemed distant the moment they woke up back in New York. "Oh right...yeah, I know. 'm jus'...shot." And the adrenaline was still pumping through his system like a drug. The moment of 'gotta protect Banner' repeating in his head like a prayer was gone now. He had succeeded, right? He knew he had succeeded because Bruce was there, his hand on his arm and he told himself not to become hopeful that it was truly his Bruce.
Bruce was just a doctor and was helping out a guy who'd been shot. That was it. He was always forming a story to give to people after he paid them off so they wouldn't point fingers at Banner for living in the apartment. It was purely reflexive when he shifted more comfortably, leaning his forehead against Bruce's shoulder and allowing his breathing to grow evenly as he felt the calmness he had missed back in S.H.I.E.L.D. If Bruce pushed him away, he would just say it was the blood loss. Another fantastic lie.
His brow quirked for a brief moment before lifting his head up. "I left S.H.I.E.L.D. I was on a mission in Romania and after it was over I ditched my handler, went lookin' for you. You're a hard man to find, doc. It was easier back..." Back in Arkham, finding Bruce had been a lot easier. Simple. Clint felt like all he had to do back there was just reach out his hand and he'd either find Bruce..Phil...any of the others who he had become close too. It was difficult for an agent to allow themselves to become so close because the inevitable always happened. They were always taken away. "Finding people after the big guy was easier than finding you. These guys were the closest on the trail...I neutralized the threat." Clint's expression steeled for a moment, looking over at one of the corpses. He didn't feel remorse. A remorse he typically felt even after killing some of the world's worst criminals under the orders of S.H.I.E.L.D because he had chosen this route and he was proud of the choice he made.
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He would have legitimately sent him a postcard, whether he was being sassy or not. The humor of what he had said didn't really register in his mind right now. He had missed the man's humor...he had missed the man himself. All of him, Clint had missed their interactions which seemed distant the moment they woke up back in New York. "Oh right...yeah, I know. 'm jus'...shot." And the adrenaline was still pumping through his system like a drug. The moment of 'gotta protect Banner' repeating in his head like a prayer was gone now. He had succeeded, right? He knew he had succeeded because Bruce was there, his hand on his arm and he told himself not to become hopeful that it was truly his Bruce.
Bruce was just a doctor and was helping out a guy who'd been shot. That was it. He was always forming a story to give to people after he paid them off so they wouldn't point fingers at Banner for living in the apartment. It was purely reflexive when he shifted more comfortably, leaning his forehead against Bruce's shoulder and allowing his breathing to grow evenly as he felt the calmness he had missed back in S.H.I.E.L.D. If Bruce pushed him away, he would just say it was the blood loss. Another fantastic lie.
His brow quirked for a brief moment before lifting his head up. "I left S.H.I.E.L.D. I was on a mission in Romania and after it was over I ditched my handler, went lookin' for you. You're a hard man to find, doc. It was easier back..." Back in Arkham, finding Bruce had been a lot easier. Simple. Clint felt like all he had to do back there was just reach out his hand and he'd either find Bruce..Phil...any of the others who he had become close too. It was difficult for an agent to allow themselves to become so close because the inevitable always happened. They were always taken away. "Finding people after the big guy was easier than finding you. These guys were the closest on the trail...I neutralized the threat." Clint's expression steeled for a moment, looking over at one of the corpses. He didn't feel remorse. A remorse he typically felt even after killing some of the world's worst criminals under the orders of S.H.I.E.L.D because he had chosen this route and he was proud of the choice he made.