Clint watched the people scatter like ants as the monster attacked New York. Typically he stays out of these things, and lets whatever happens happen. But the avengers look like they’re losing.
He rolled his shoulders, feeling the ache of holding back so much power. It had been centuries since he allowed himself to move as Set. He had given up that life to pretend to be small—in the hopes of finding purpose.
But sometimes he misses the temples and sand.
“Just when I need to travel into dangerous places or across the country…or ocean,” he mused. “Otherwise I take the subway or walk. I try not to tap into my power too often. I don’t want the avengers realizing I exist.”
"Probably a good plan. Wait... you're not a bad guy, are you?"
He seemed too nice to be a bad guy, and Kate realized, maybe too late, that such a question could offend him.
"Sorry. There's no way, you saved my life. That was a dumb question."
Trying to save face, she surveyed the street in front of her.
As she'd half-hoped, the job she'd been worrying about was smashed to bits, a chunk of the front of the building gone.
“Not a bad guy,” he snorted. “At least not anymore. I used to cause problems in Egypt, but I grew out of it. Now I just want pizza and to relax. Mostly.”
"That sounds amazing. Pizza and relax, I mean. And I guess I could do that since my job is... well, I'm certainly not working today." She gestured to the building.
"I needed to find something new anyway."
