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Don't Piss off The PA	By : Strailo Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 5865 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Avengers, nor the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Title: Don’t Piss of the Personal Assistant
Fandom: Avengers/Bleach
Characters:
Chapter: 3
Word count: 2052
Warnings: nothing really, language
AN: Why did I not post last week beyond Friday? Because I got very, very busy with things. I was making all sorts of goodies and anything to do with editing got lost in the shuffle.

Including editing and setting up this chapter! But I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays (whatever you celebrate) and that the New Year treats you right!

*~*~*~*

Inside of the medical room where they had set Clint up, they found that the room was being kept dark, barely lit up with some of the blue lights. Ichigo had learned through his talks with M’Baku, T’Challa, and Okoye during the last week that each of the private medical rooms were rigged with various colored lights. They were used for various reasons, but mostly when someone came down with a migraine and had to be hooked up to an IV while they rested.

Clint was laying back on a medical bed with an IV hooked up to one arm, a small bag of painkillers already dripping into the saline that was slowly being pushed into him. He had a damp towel that was steaming slightly resting over his eyes as he played with something that was like playdough, never one to sit still for long when not on a job.

Charles winced at the pain that rolled off from him, rubbing at his own head and blocking it out. “I see what you mean by a headache. You say that this has happened before?” Charles asked softly.

“From what I’ve seen and heard, after the scepter was taken off world, he had headaches every day for a week of varying strengths,” Ichigo said. “And had a migraine that could have been from having his head slammed into metal the week before.” He shifted on his feet and opened a file on his phone. “Fury had sent all of their medical files to Tony-san for care-taking, to make sure that they weren’t in the wrong hands. Call him a mysterious dick and a bastard, but his paranoia tends to pay off in some ways. Anyways, he had the same kind of headache for a while after Lago’s happened. Now that Maximoff has had her power, not so much as sealed as sucked away from her, he’s coming down with a headache. Coincidence? Nope. Not likely.”

“No, it wouldn’t be,” Stephen said, sharing a look with Charles. “Shall we start?” he asked. Charles nodded, rolling forward to come around to the head of the bed,

“Mr. Barton, my name is Professor Charles Xavier and I am a telepathic mutant. I was called in to see if there is something wrong with your mind and mental processes. I will tell you each step that myself and Dr. Strange will be doing. I do not think I am going to be able to do anything today beyond figure out what is wrong with you and what I might need to do to fix anything,” he said softly.

“The shit that they’re pushing is working so you can talk a little louder if you need ta,” Clint rumbled. “It feels like I’m in a bubble to be truthful.”

“Muffled? Off putting? As if everything outside of the bubble that surrounds you is wrong and bad?” Ichigo asked, having opened his note app, tapping them out. Looking up, he shrugged at the blurry eye that Clint was gazing at him with. “Tony-san had described the first two months after the attack by Maximoff as such.”

“Well...you ain’t wrong. But it’s like the bubble is one from soapy water then the glass that I can remember it being,” he grunted as he let the cloth fall back over his eye.

“It is possible that the power that was fueling this bubble was not removed as had thought,” Stephen said, trying to keep his suspicions out of his voice. Charles hummed thoughtfully. “I am Dr. Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme and retired neurosurgeon. I will be the one to be removing any magic, and, with the help of Professor Xavier, fix any mental pathways that were hurt, stressed, or broken,” he continued.

“Yeah. That’s fine,” Clint said as he shifted, bending one leg up. “Uh...Kurosaki?” he asked.

Ichigo looked up from his notes. “Yes, Barton-san?” he asked.

“Before I forget or get busy, sorry about how I’ve been an absolute dick to you. I’ve said shit that Laura would string me up for and I don’t know why since I barely know you. Knew you.” He paused. “And for calling you a whore earlier,” Clint said. Ichigo raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“I will forgive you. For now. But do not think that I will forget what you have done. For now, though, I suggest that you relax and allow Professor Xavier and Dr. Strange to do their work,” he instructed. He nodded to T’Challa and the Dora Milaje that were watching Barton before he took a seat in one of the three comfortable chairs in the room.

Charles placed his hands on either side of Clint’s head, sliding into his mind easily while Stephen called up a spell circle, holding it steady at Clint’s face before moving down. He mentally recorded what the spell was finding.

It took nearly an hour before they spoke again. “She has indeed been using the pathways that the specter created in Mr. Barton’s mind,” Charles said almost absently. “She has expanded them over the last year and a half, funneling emotions into him,” he continued, Strange nodding.

“Is there any physical damage to his brain?” Ichigo asked.

Stephen frowned as he read the runes on his spell circle. “No. But it is likely that he will have to relearn how to control his initial reaction to things and his anger,” he said. “So far there are no really bad physical issues that I am finding. But, as said, his anger and emotional triggers are messed up. I would think someone who works with those who have PTSD is best for his therapy,” he continued.

“Sam might have some suggestions for that. He knows people,” Clint said. He twitched. It felt weird having Charles carefully poking around his mind, the feeling as if there was a tickle on his very thoughts. He tried not to think too hard on that subject.

“I will speak with Mr. Wilson about suggestions when we return to the United States,” Ichigo stated. Stephen just grunted.

“Do you think that your findings now will be useful during his trial?” T’Challa asked. Stephen growled as his spell circle lit up over his left leg, halfway between ankle and calf, the spot glowing red and most likely where Maximoff’s magic had been entering Clint.

“Along with the Accords, the United States and the United Nations have been creating guidelines for telepathic evidence in a court case,” Ichigo stated. “I have only really been living in the United States for the last four years, but the way that they go about this is quite interesting. They brought in Professor Xavier, and Grey-san to help figure all of this out, telling them in terms that are easy enough on how their powers would work alongside a specialized machine. With this machine, any telepath with enough power and training would be able to figure out where a person’s mind was changed and if it was in a malicious way or not,” he said. He tilted his head with a smile. “Stark Industries is actually working with Dr. McCoy, Dr. Strange, Grey-san, and Richard-san to create this machine. This information will be used in his case.”

T’Challa nodded, making notes to get the recordings from the cell and the audio from in here to the Panel. He watched as Charles sat back in his chair, rubbing at his temples with a sigh. “What is the plan?” he asked, standing straight.

“You are to keep Mr. Barton and Maximoff separate from now on until we are able to close the pathways. He must be taken back to the United States on a different plane or jet. If you cannot do that, I will have someone bring our own to come and get him. I would take him now, but I do not think that he should be traveling via a magical portal right now,” Charles instructed.

Stephen nodded in agreement, pulling away and pulling out a thick ballpoint pen with runic circles carved onto it and a notebook. He placed both items down onto a cleared table, placing his hands on either side of the objects. A golden spell circle appeared under the items, the pen standing up and placing the tip onto the paper. He started to talk, the pen taking notes for him, the scrawl just like his own before his hands were damaged.

“He will need to be carefully cleansed of all of the magic. The headaches are a result of him trying to fight off the manipulative magic for so long. Now that it’s not bombarding him, his mind is relaxing. It’s like a fighter relaxing after a hard fight: he’s sore,” Stephen said.

“I will make sure that he’s watched over while he is kept here in the medical area,” T’Challa stated, Ichigo nodding. “I or Okeyo will be happy to escort him to where you need him.”

“As long as things don’t go down,” Clint snorted. “I’ll be a good boy. No worries.”

Charles smiled while Stephen stood up straight, putting his pen and notebook away. “I’m going to have him sent to the mansion for starters, Charles. From there, we will transport him to the New York Sanctum,” he said. “I can get him from there to our main temple. He will have a better time traveling through an anchored doorway,” he continued.

“Are you going to start removing the magic from him now or later?” Ichigo asked as he continued to write out his report to Clint’s lawyer.

“Later. He will need to get over the soreness before I can start working on it. And with Charles’ help, I can start to repair the pathways after I have finished removing the magic from him,” Stephen told him. “I will make sure that he will be able to talk with his lawyer and the courts. But I do not want him anywhere near Maximoff until her powers have either been stripped, or he has heavy protections against her magical signature. Or anyone controlled by her.”

Ichigo hummed. “I think that the courts will be willing to work with you and the others on this,” he said as he sent his report. Tucking his phone away, he stood. “For now, I think I need a hot shower and then I need to make more calls after that,” he sighed, rubbing at his braid with a groan.

“Tony will be arriving tomorrow to help set up the last of the travel arrangements of the others. He also wishes to get a report from Romanoff,” Charles told him. “Or at least that was what he said as he was rushing out of the door.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, amused. “I take it that Loki-san is returning to the ship that his brother is on?” he asked. Charles nodded once. “Wonderful. At least I am not having to keep his schedule right now while I’m doing all of this,” he sighed. “Professor, Doctor, thank you for coming in such a rush. I will gather Ororo and you can return home to prepare for Clint’s arrival.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kurosaki,” Charles said. Ichigo bowed his head to T’Challa and left with Okoye to gather Ororo from where she was having tea with M’Baku and talking about something or another. Once she had left to leave with her friend and the sorcerer, Ichigo groaned and slowly stretched before he checked the time.

“Is it really only three? I was so sure that it was much later than that,” Ichigo sighed. He scratched at the base of his head. M’Baku and Okoye both chuckled. “I should probably prepare for Tony’s arrival tomorrow…” he said.

M’Baku just gave him an amused look. “Call for someone to bring you some light dinner. Shower. Change. Rest. You have most of tomorrow to rest while T’Challa and the others figure out the transportation,” he suggested. “I or T’Challa are able to make any calls that must happen.”

Ichigo gave him a searching look before he sighed, slumping and nodding. “Yes, I do suppose that you are right. I should rest some more. I’m still dealing with a lot of the jet lag. I am due to be here for another two or three days as it is,” he admitted.
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Don't Piss off The PA