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Avengers Minis	By : Strailo Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 39138 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
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Title: Happy New Beginnings
Fandom: Avengers
Chapter: 1
Characters: Clint, Phil
Word Count: 1,373
Warnings: None
For: CutsyCat
AN: This is an early Christmas present for the Cutsy. Yeah, way early. But I'm getting these done and getting the rest done. *sighs* The fun of it all.
And I know, I'm late. I wasn't feeling good yesterday. Still don't feel good today but getting this done now.
*~*~*~*
He watched.
That was what he was trained to do, and enjoyed doing really. He watched people. He followed them around and found out all of their little secrets.
Like the fact that Steve Rogers slept five hours maximum and then spent the rest of the three hours either sketching the rest of the Avengers or memories from his time before he landed in the ice.
Or that Natasha tended not to sleep in the big bed that sat in the middle of her room but rather in a small cubby like area that was surprisingly comfortable and spacious. It was something that Stark had some how known to give her. It also had about a dozen or so guns tucked into little pockets so she was surrounded by fire power and a quick escape route that lead to a slide that went down to Stark’s lab.
He also knew that Bruce tended to meditate three hours instead of just the one that they all assumed before sleeping for five to seven after that, depending on the day and what he had to do. It was Jarvis that lowered his lights and made sure everything was safe for the scientist.
He also knew, despite really not wanting to know, that Thor had a pair of boxers that he slept in every night and which were washed every three days. They had a rabbit pattern on them. Full on bunnies. He suspected that Jane had bought the damn things for the god.
He even knew that Phil liked to read on his Stark Pad something or another that made him smirk often or even just laugh this quiet little laugh. It wasn’t often that he laughed though so he had taken to wondering which book he was reading for half an hour when the agent started to read. It made for a very boring time since the man could have just been reading paperwork for all of the emotions he showed on his face.
But one person Clint never could quite get a hold on was one Tony Stark. The man had the oddest hours and some of the oddest habits out of all of them. He didn’t sleep when they figured he would, instead having a tendency to fall asleep at the drop of a hat if he had gone without any for over 18 hours. Especially so when he decided to do a six day build-a-thon, living off of coffee and sheer willpower to stay awake. When he did sleep, it was agitated, almost as if he was dreaming about what had happened to him all those months in Afghanistan. He didn’t often watch him, the sight of him twitching in his sleep bringing up his own painful memories.
Of course when he woke from a nightmare, Tony usually ended up in the lab once more, working on something or another and working with Jarvis on his projects. Some of the best tech came from those times that he wanted to focus on something complicated so he didn’t have to think about the memories that he had dreamed of. But still it worried Clint and so he found himself lounging on Phil’s office couch in the apartment that had been given to the handler, getting an amused look from the man.
“Why did you drop in from my vents this time, Barton? Usually you only do that when you have no one to watch and I know for a fact that Stark is working on a new bow for you. I would think you would be watching him,” Phil drawled, Clint huffing softly.
“Yeah, I would be if I didn’t have more than a new play toy on my mind,” the archer huffed, crossing his feet and propping them up on the arm of the two seat couch. His hands came together, lacing behind his head as he stared at the ceiling with it’s delicate art that trailed down the sides to create the cosmos. He knew for a fact that when it got dark enough and the only light that was on was Phil’s desk top, that the silver stars and pale wispy colors that created the Milky Way lit up to make the room glow gently.
It was all very calming, which was why Tony had had it painted that way for the Avengers Handler.
“I’m actually worried about Stark,” Clint finally said, Phil putting his pen down with a frown on his lips.
“Worried?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend. As much as they nagged and snarked at each other, they were friends and when Clint came to him and said he was worried about someone, the handler listened. It wasn’t often that the archer came to him about such concerns after all.
“Yeah, worried. The guy has the most fucked up sleep schedule out of all of us and he dreams. He dreams a lot. Nightmares,” Clint said, one foot twitching in his agitation. “Like the shit that I used to dream about but probably about Afghanistan.”
Phil blew out a slow breath as he sagged back into his seat, lips pulling into a frown on his lips. “Well, fuck,” he hummed, sliding down to slump, legs spreading as he rotated the chair back and forth in thought. He wouldn’t show many people such a loose style of sitting but at the moment he didn’t care if one Director Nick Fury walked in telling him to assemble the Avengers. He had just been handed a loaded weapon. “Do we know if he’s seeing a therapist who specializes in PTSD?” he asked finally.
“Nah, I have no idea. I just started putting shit together in the last month and he gets a bit boring to watch even when he’s being brilliant or having to reverse engineer his own shit to figure out what he did in a blackout stage,” Clint sighed, rubbing at his face. “And fuck if some of his shit isn’t amazing. My newest bow came from one of those stages.”
“Yeah, I figured since it took a bit longer to create than what he originally projected for it,” Phil hummed, shaking his head with a thoughtful look on his face. “Does he head out to any appointments that aren’t noted beyond appointments? That is, any that Pepper doesn’t control,” he explained quickly at the curious and slightly suspicious look from Clint.
“Once every two weeks as long as we’re not in the middle of a battle, though a few times he’s cut off communication to make a random call. No one can tell where he calls since it’s a heavily private line that he apparently set up for the other person,” Clint admitted, sighing as he rubbed at his face with a grunt. “I had Natasha try to figure out but the name is just a single letter, which is a Z by the way, and the number is established under that name on the new phone company under his name. The bill is sent to him. The bill itself have phone calls coming and going but only between whoever this Z is and Stark,” he continued, watching Phil stand up and move to the hidden, specialized mini-fridge.
Grabbing two beers that he kept in the fridge for the sudden urges to relax later in the evening, Phil handed one over to Clint and flopped onto the couch with a sigh and rubbed at his face again. “Fuck. I don’t want to do this. The person who did his mental exam just refused to deal with him ever again. I don’t think the SHIELD therapists are even slightly able to comprehend, much less work with, Stark and his quirks. And masks...and defensive mechanisms. Fuck.”
“I don’t think that Nat really saw him when she was first placed to watch him,” Clint said slowly, smirking around the mouth of his bottle. Phil settled in to curse in very creative ways, mixing four other languages beside English to do so. The realization that Stark was a master of redirection and hiding was enough to tell them that their profile on him was all wrong. Very, very wrong.
- 9
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- 11
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Avengers Minis