[They've always been able to talk, open and honest. Sometimes they come at it from the side. Wanda because it's easier to glide gently into an answer or a feeling; Clint because after a life of being a spy, coming in at an angle is second nature. Sometimes he is, however, extremely direct. Bullseye.
Of course the instinct is to leave. Escape and bring everyone here back home where they belong. That this is some kind of interdimensional magical kidnapping, and he's really not fucking about it, and no one else should be, either.
But Wanda is loved. Here. She's not seen as a monster; people are not afraid of her enough to put her in a collar and straitjacket. She has a place here. And the possibility of loved ones coming here, too. Even if he finds a way back...he wouldn't force Wanda to come.
He just wants to make sure that this isn't an illusion.]
Okay.
[He still needs details, needs to know exactly what's going on, who where when how why. But Wanda, who has been here for some time, is loved. In a world where Natasha is alive. For the moment, that has to be good enough. Clint raises their hands to press hers to his chest. His heart might still be just beating hard enough from the revelation and panic and joy and fear to be felt through the bars of his ribs, but none of it is directed at her or because of her.
He wants to ask, then. To keep being direct. But instead of demanding to know about Westview (and whatever may have happened after), he comes from the side. Gives some of himself. An exchange.]
Kids are good. Everyone's adjusting to it being a later calendar year than they're used to, and some of their friends being older and moved on. And Nate's smarter than me some days, but it's still hard to figure out how to explain why things are different to a toddler, you know? Not a whole lot of legitimate literature out there yet.
[And it's a reason he's so anxious to be here. His youngest was gone for longer than he had ever gotten the chance to be alive. He'll be an old man by the time the kiddo graduates high school. Cooper should be in college with Lila nipping at his heels. Laura should be making jokes about a nearly-empty nest. He's survived a lot he had no right to, and he's grappling with the fact that he's running out of time.]
We're all learning sign language as a family. [A tight smile, a brief motion up to his ears. For the purposes of this thread and not actually considering any alternative until this very moment, let us presume he has his hearing aid or a close-enough equivalent. He's not too embarrassed about it. More that he hadn't picked up ASL beforehand when it's so useful. Military hand signals are not so great for civilian life.] Hearing's kinda shot now. Docs say it's just been a cumulative effect. I'm not too good at it yet, but the kids are picking it up real well.
And I inadvertently picked up an apprentice.
[You know, casual normal stuff that definitely doesn't need elaborated upon. The floor is now open for Wanda to say what she will.]
no subject
Of course the instinct is to leave. Escape and bring everyone here back home where they belong. That this is some kind of interdimensional magical kidnapping, and he's really not fucking about it, and no one else should be, either.
But Wanda is loved. Here. She's not seen as a monster; people are not afraid of her enough to put her in a collar and straitjacket. She has a place here. And the possibility of loved ones coming here, too. Even if he finds a way back...he wouldn't force Wanda to come.
He just wants to make sure that this isn't an illusion.]
Okay.
[He still needs details, needs to know exactly what's going on, who where when how why. But Wanda, who has been here for some time, is loved. In a world where Natasha is alive. For the moment, that has to be good enough. Clint raises their hands to press hers to his chest. His heart might still be just beating hard enough from the revelation and panic and joy and fear to be felt through the bars of his ribs, but none of it is directed at her or because of her.
He wants to ask, then. To keep being direct. But instead of demanding to know about Westview (and whatever may have happened after), he comes from the side. Gives some of himself. An exchange.]
Kids are good. Everyone's adjusting to it being a later calendar year than they're used to, and some of their friends being older and moved on. And Nate's smarter than me some days, but it's still hard to figure out how to explain why things are different to a toddler, you know? Not a whole lot of legitimate literature out there yet.
[And it's a reason he's so anxious to be here. His youngest was gone for longer than he had ever gotten the chance to be alive. He'll be an old man by the time the kiddo graduates high school. Cooper should be in college with Lila nipping at his heels. Laura should be making jokes about a nearly-empty nest. He's survived a lot he had no right to, and he's grappling with the fact that he's running out of time.]
We're all learning sign language as a family. [A tight smile, a brief motion up to his ears.
For the purposes of this thread and not actually considering any alternative until this very moment, let us presume he has his hearing aid or a close-enough equivalent.He's not too embarrassed about it. More that he hadn't picked up ASL beforehand when it's so useful. Military hand signals are not so great for civilian life.] Hearing's kinda shot now. Docs say it's just been a cumulative effect. I'm not too good at it yet, but the kids are picking it up real well.And I inadvertently picked up an apprentice.
[You know, casual normal stuff that definitely doesn't need elaborated upon. The floor is now open for Wanda to say what she will.]