Hawkeye thought he held himself together well enough when Guy directs his attention to Mindy when he didn't utter the screech that was building up in his throat. When the hands entwined and his stomach lurched forward he felt like taking a step back might be seen as a way to give the two space to enjoy their company better. His mind reeled. He remembered the cold sweat of days before, the terror he'd known for years now but that always seemed new to him. So if he only rolled his eyes and grunted- and yes, he saw Guy's expression of gentleness and the girl Mindy's open response-, then Hawkeye figures he did a good job at, you know, not losing his lunch. He figures he was some fantastic example of some impatient man, but one who'd seen twisted things before. So he was fine with that.
But he still needs to make his own noise, to break the- the This. The spell. The reunion that shouldn't be. And it was impossible to not be grateful he was alive, that he was brought back to life, but any sane man knew it was wrong. Any sane man knew how wrong the show of... whatever had been that'd taken place in front of him. He claps his hands once. "Alright, things are getting mushy and I don't have popcorn to throw at you two," he announces as if it was his only qualm. And he turns to Mindy and quips, "Shell shocked? Do I look like a turtle to you?" And Christ, he wishes for Sidney or for someone who knew more than he did on how to act right because there wasn't any way he wouldn't be haunted by the delivery of the girl's words and, okay, he was more shaken than the last leaf on an oak in autumn. Hell if he'd show it.
"I'm getting paid by the hour," he says, matter-of-factly and like he's not sorry to bring attention back to the mess that was the guy named Guy. "If you two want to-" and his moves his hands "waltz, I don't care. But I was called to respond to an urgent search and rescue. I take my work seriously. The search's done. And I'm not going to carry the lug," and he nods at Guy and feels sorry for the man as much as he feels sorry for the girl he had slit the throat of. "But I'd say getting back to the apartments' our next move." And he feels an itch for Ellie, for his girl, at his throat and wonders what the hell he's supposed to even do about that. "It's more private." Not. But it was home base. Hawkeye knew that. "And I happen to know somebody in our midst doesn't get along well with either crowds or ve-hic-uls. Both of which are generously removed from sight or thought when you unlock that door that leads to your own executive-style suite, bested only by the best rooms at the Imperial Hotel, Tokyo."
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Hawkeye thought he held himself together well enough when Guy directs his attention to Mindy when he didn't utter the screech that was building up in his throat. When the hands entwined and his stomach lurched forward he felt like taking a step back might be seen as a way to give the two space to enjoy their company better. His mind reeled. He remembered the cold sweat of days before, the terror he'd known for years now but that always seemed new to him. So if he only rolled his eyes and grunted- and yes, he saw Guy's expression of gentleness and the girl Mindy's open response-, then Hawkeye figures he did a good job at, you know, not losing his lunch. He figures he was some fantastic example of some impatient man, but one who'd seen twisted things before. So he was fine with that.
But he still needs to make his own noise, to break the- the This. The spell. The reunion that shouldn't be. And it was impossible to not be grateful he was alive, that he was brought back to life, but any sane man knew it was wrong. Any sane man knew how wrong the show of... whatever had been that'd taken place in front of him. He claps his hands once. "Alright, things are getting mushy and I don't have popcorn to throw at you two," he announces as if it was his only qualm. And he turns to Mindy and quips, "Shell shocked? Do I look like a turtle to you?" And Christ, he wishes for Sidney or for someone who knew more than he did on how to act right because there wasn't any way he wouldn't be haunted by the delivery of the girl's words and, okay, he was more shaken than the last leaf on an oak in autumn. Hell if he'd show it.
"I'm getting paid by the hour," he says, matter-of-factly and like he's not sorry to bring attention back to the mess that was the guy named Guy. "If you two want to-" and his moves his hands "waltz, I don't care. But I was called to respond to an urgent search and rescue. I take my work seriously. The search's done. And I'm not going to carry the lug," and he nods at Guy and feels sorry for the man as much as he feels sorry for the girl he had slit the throat of. "But I'd say getting back to the apartments' our next move." And he feels an itch for Ellie, for his girl, at his throat and wonders what the hell he's supposed to even do about that. "It's more private." Not. But it was home base. Hawkeye knew that. "And I happen to know somebody in our midst doesn't get along well with either crowds or ve-hic-uls. Both of which are generously removed from sight or thought when you unlock that door that leads to your own executive-style suite, bested only by the best rooms at the Imperial Hotel, Tokyo."