The bell chimes as he enters the coffee shop, but he doesn’t hear it. He clears his throat, eyes darting quickly to scope out the room. Twelve adults, three children, and three.. no, four people behind the counter. The brunette walks to the register to take his order.
“Hey, can I have a black coffee?”
The man says something, but the background noise is loud, and he was too busy reaching in his wallet to catch it.
“Biggest ya got. And an oatmeal raisin cookie please.”
“I.. I didn’t catch that, sorry.” The man stares at him like he’s dumb and another woman sets a cup next to him. Cheeks flushed, he tosses a five on the counter, grabs his coffee, and rushes out the door.
He’s several blocks away before he takes a sip and immediately throws it in the nearest garbage. Stupid. Stupid. He must have grabbed someone else’s drink. Who puts pumpkin in coffee anyway?
“Fuck,” he mumbles miserably. The walk back to his apartment is claustrophobic, busy with the lunch crowd.
“Watch it!” A man pushes past him angrily, and he takes the shoulder shove with a sigh, not even sure of what he did wrong this time. He swallows a lump in his throat.
His hands are shaking as he opens the door to his apartment, trying to focus on the lock, on his breathing, on-
A hand on his arm makes him jump.
Natasha holds out her hand wordlessly and he gives her the key.
She’s seen him cry before.
And it’s fucking horrible. He’s glad to be in the comfort of his bed, the blinds drawn to hide the snot on his face and the tears on his pillow. It’s better that she can’t see him in the dark.
Her hand rubs soothing circles over his back.
“It’s getting worse, Nat, I can’t, I can’t-“
She squeezes his arm sharply and flicks on the bedside lamp.
You can, she signs. He tries to roll over but she doesn’t let him. They’re not going to judge you.
The words appear in front of him as holographic text, and he swallows down a lump in his throat. Jarvis knows. Of course he knows.
Something smells like burning wires, and the metal in Tony’s hand is smoking. This was a mistake. He never should have come here.
He spins to walk away and runs straight into Natasha. She’s not impressed.
“He needs hearing aids,” she says, stepping around him. A flush creeps up into his cheeks as Tony meets his eyes.
“Subtle or loud and proud?”
“I.. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter?”
“I’ll make both,” he decides, as if it’s no big deal at all.
“Here. You can adjust them through the app on your phone. You might have to mess with the settings a little. And if they need tuning let me know. This is just a prototype. Well, it’s the sixth version.”
Clint turns over the tiny device in his hand. He looks to Natasha for confirmation and she nods, urging him to slip it over his ear. At first, there’s nothing, and then…
He slides the bar on the app and looks around the room. The tv is playing a baseball game in the next room. Steve boos, apparently not happy with it.
Startled, he looks back at her. Her voice. It’s so clear. It’s so different, so much better than it has been in a long time. Just like he remembers. His eyes well with tears and he blinks them back.
“Nice hearing aids,” Bucky comments as they step into the jet. Clint flinches, ready to defend himself. “I like the purple. Mine is all metal. Maybe I should add some color.”
He flexes his arm with a wry smile. Clint stares at him, with the sudden realization that maybe his disability isn’t a weakness, that it doesn’t define him. That he can still be useful. Bucky sees this all play out on his face. He drops in the seat next to him and motions toward the cockpit.
“Do you think she’s finally gunna let him fly?”
“Not a chance. He has no sense of direction.”
“Never did,” Bucky says with a quiet laugh. “After this I’m ordering Thai and watching bad sci-fi movies. You’re welcome to join me.”
Clint sees the invitation for what it is. A chance to talk about it if he wants to, or if he doesn’t. The jet starts to move. Natasha yells something to Steve, and after a moment the plane starts to rise. They can hear arguing from the cockpit. Bucky rolls his eyes.
“And she’s just as stubborn.” He waits for a moment, then adds. “You know.. after this, a movie does sounds good.” Bucky grins, holsters his gun, and passes Clint his bow.
“Then let’s make this quick.”
