𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚. - 𝙇𝙚𝙤 𝙏𝙤𝙡𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙮.

x.com/i/events/15549…

Four days; no sleep. He’s held out longer. Completing the mission is what matters, but she knows that. He appreciates the compliment nonetheless.

Funny. Rare form sense of humor today. Good mood? Or just thankful she’s not on mission?

Been there before; he’d rather not. ‘𝘠𝘦𝘵’ is pretty pessimistic though. Is it too naïve to believe she might have a peaceful day? He hasn’t had one of those since the 40’s, but for others it seems nice.

It’s Monday, Barton.

… Right. What’s bothering him?

natasha. we have to move we have no time for your soft touch, winter soldier!

He hasn’t made it this far in life being an idiot. How’s she been otherwise? Been a few months. He’s been undercover.

I don't belong at S.H.I.E.L.D without her

Alright. One thing at a time. He’ll look into the Hood problem. Robbins has been a thorn in SHIELD’s side for a long time. If he needs to be taken out, it’ll be done.

NATASHA!!

A case of being homesick. It 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 from time to time. When he returns, drinks are on him, if she’s available.

Hm. Seems like a half measure. Guy keeps coming back. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 if Barton insists, they can play it his way. Anytime Clint’s ready to systematically destabilize the Hood’s operations, he’ll be there.

Eyes blink to consciousness once more. His mind, a battlefield of bloody memories, remains fixated on his most recent nightmares. Covers pushed to the side allow a frigid chill to rush across his bare skin. He’s used to the cold.

natasha hasn't been here in months. the sheets still smell like her

The smell is warm and doughy, with a hint of sweetness, provided by processed syrup goodness. James stands over a stove, right arm reaching for a small bottle of cinnamon. He senses her change in state as she shifts. He grins. “Morning.”

“Someone had a long night.” He keeps the conversation moving, causally. Left hand grabs the handle of the pan before him, picking it up and sliding the pancakes from it, to a prepared plate. “You showed up last night, exhausted. Didn’t say five words before sleep.”

Duffle bag drops against the wooden floor, thousand yard stare interrupted by the closing of his eyes and a 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽 breath. He’s home, for now.