How about a bingo twofor? Tony having hallucinations and accidentally hurting his buddy Clint?
So this is short, not very good, and it took forever. But it exists now, and it didn’t before, so that’s something! “Accidentally hurt by a friend” was already taken, so this is only for “hallucinations.” I hope you like it anyway!
Because Clint often ignored his own best interests in favor of investigating a gut instinct that something was wrong, he found himself knocking, nearly an hour after the battle had been won, on the door to Tony Stark’s lab.
“I’m sorry, Agent Barton,” JARVIS drawled after he tugged at the door a few times unsuccessfully, “but I am afraid Sir is declining all visitors to his lab for the time being.”
“Aw, J, come on,” Clint whined, “be a pal.”
Really, he wasn’t working with much in terms of thinking that Tony might need something. He’d been quiet and snippy during the battle and that was it. Other than that, he’d fought pretty normally, if perhaps a little slow to react, and he hadn’t taken any bad hits that Clint had seen.
When he’d run it past Nat and Steve, they’d almost laughed.
“Snippy, huh?” Steve had asked, his tone dripping with faux solemnness. “Sounds serious.”
“Okay, fine; I’ll give you that’s just Stark,” Clint caved, “but quiet?”
“Yeah, but he went straight back down to the lab,” Natasha had pointed out. “He’s probably just in his own head.” When Clint hadn’t looked convinced, she smiled patiently. “Go check on him if you’re so worried, but don’t come crying to us when he rips you a new one for interrupting his work.”
So, that’s what he’d done, against his better judgment.
“Believe me when I say I wish I could,” he replied, and if a robot could sound worried, that’s how Clint would have described his present tone. He frowned.
“What does that mean?” he asked, and JARVIS hesitated.
“That is information that I cannot disclose unless, say, someone were to use the Avengers Override Code.”
Clint blinked. JARVIS was just going to offer that up? The AI was normally so loyal to Tony. Perhaps they were having some kind of dispute?
“Uh, okay, yeah,” he fumbled, “Override Code: Legolas.” JARVIS opened the door to the lab silently and Clint walked through it, heading directly to the corner where Tony tended to hole himself up to lick his wounds when he was sore after battles.
“Agent Barton, I must warn you, Sir is not in his right mind at present,” JARVIS said.
“When is Stark ever in his right mind?” Clint quipped back, knowing JARVIS wouldn’t laugh. After a pause, he continued. “What, you mean something’s wrong with him?”
“If he feels threatened, he could pose a threat to you or himself.”
Flashbacks? A concussion? Magic? Several theories ran through Clint’s mind as to what might be making Tony so agitated, but his mind went blank when he actually say him, huddled over himself in his chair, a hoodie pulled tightly around his shoulders while he poured over a tablet computer.
“Hey, Stark,” he called, frowning when Tony startled visibly.
“Katniss,” Tony greeted, “sup? Thought the battle was over.” He didn’t seem hostile like Clint had expected from his earlier attitude, but he did see what JARVIS had been saying: he didn’t look good. His skin was pale but flushed around the cheeks, his forehead was damp with sweat.
“It is,” Clint reassured. “That’s not what I came down here for.”
“J, didn’t I ask you to keep the doors locked?” Tony snapped.
“Agent Barton used his override code,” JARVIS ratted him out. Fickle AI, Clint thought. He’d remember this for later.
“You’re not happy to see me?” Clint teased. Tony, who hadn’t looked up from his tablet, just shivered.
“What do you need?”
“Can’t I just want to see how you’re doing?” Clint challenged. Tony was shivering, he could see now that he’d approached his lab bench, and his breathing was loud and wheezy. “What are you working on?”
The move he made to look at Tony’s tablet was not appreciated and he immediately turned the screen off.
“Nothing,” he replied. “None of your business. What do you want?”
“Tony,” Clint said softly, hoping that the rarity of his first name might soften him a little. “Level with me. What’s wrong?” Tony shook his head, clutching one eye with his hand.
“Just a headache,” he muttered, “so you can go, now.”
Clint gritted his teeth in frustration. Tony wasn’t always the easiest guy to get along with, sure, but he was never THIS intolerable. He either played things off so convincingly that no one knew there was anything wrong until he collapsed, or he just collapsed. Clint wasn’t used to this in-between.
Once more going against the smart thing to do, which would be to just leave Tony alone, Clint reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, which proved to be a massive mistake. The gesture itself was innocent enough, but Tony reacted like he thought he was going to kill him, rocketing back in his chair with such a hard flinch that Clint pulled his hand back like he’d been swiped at by a rabid animal. After a few seconds of wide-eyed staring, Tony blinked, rubbed his eyes, and blinked again.
“Sorry,” he apologized weakly, breathlessly, “about that. Dunno what came over me. Thought you were someone else for a second.”
The sad thing was that it wasn’t that Clint couldn’t fathom who might have induced that kind of reaction, but that he couldn’t narrow it down to one person.
“I think you’ve been awake for too long,” Clint suggested. “Will you let me take you upstairs to bed, or are you going to make me fight you about it?”
Tony smiled wickedly as he stood, the expression dropping for a moment when he wavered and grabbed blindly for Clint’s arms to steady himself.
“On the first date? Bold,” he replied. Clint rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t so easily deflected: the heat that radiated from Tony’s body was immediately worrisome.
“You’re burning up, Stark,” he fretted. “Have you seen medical? Is this from the battle?”
“Nah.” Tony waved his hand like he could physically wipe away Clint’s concern. “Just a bug.”
“Christ,” Clint muttered. “What the hell are we going to do with you?”
“Bed me, apparently,” Tony quipped again, earning himself a swat on the back of his head. Sick or not, he was shameless and annoying.
“You’re hallucinating again,” Clint replied. As the doors of the elevator opened, he barely took a moment to revel in the self-satisfaction of Natasha and Steve’s worried looks as they realized that Clint had been right to worry and rushed forward to help get him into bed and to call Tony’s doctor and Pepper. He fell asleep nearly as soon as Clint tucked him in, which he insisted was necessary for the healing process.
Was doing a little googling to see what the general consensus is on whether one can watch Andor without knowing anything about Star Wars and found:
"With just a cursory knowledge of Star Wars basics - there’s a big bad Empire and good guys who Rebel against it - you’d have more than you need to get started."
That's very close to what I'd've said Star Wars is about, so I guess I'll be fine xd.
a faded, sweat-colored cap tugs low over his brow. the jacket stretched over his shoulders is an old, bleached denim with soft spots worn over the joints of his elbows & cuffs tattered at the caps of his wrists. the black t-shirt pulling his chest has made more cycles in the wash than its color could support. it’s a soggy kind of grey now. everything he wears matches the picture of a local, someone who’s been around for a while in a small town with only a seedy gas station & corner store to support it. someone who's lying low --- either for a mission or to keep the heat off for a while.
❛ i didn’t see anyone on the way in. ❜ he keeps his voice low, casual like they’re deciding what to buy. a plastic, dull-edged basket hangs from the crook of his right hand with a loop of garden wire & a package of biscuits, a gallon of sweating milk. ❛ a couple in the back but they look like they’re from the neighborhood. ❜
he motions only with the uptick of his gaze to the cameras perched in the front corner over the door & over the register. ❛ but looks like we’re being captured for posterity. ❜
