Does everything go away? Yeah, everything goes away.

[actually112]

Who| Aang and Clint Barton
What| MCU Bucky and Sam are dead (except not really). Aang is seriously done with his loved ones dying. Clint is going to try to take care of the boy in everyone else's absence.
Where| Aang's room
When| Backdated to about a week after Bucky and Sam 'die'
Warnings/Notes| Sad children and possible references to genocide.

Aang has made himself very scarce in the Tribute Tower. He just doesn't want to be there. He goes to school, then spends the rest of his time making things in random parks. Eventually, he comes back to D4 to share dinner with Roland and stays in his room until morning.

Tonight is no different. He's curled up in his room, hiding with Toro the tribble and Hariti the bat. He got Toro because he knew that Bucky would want his tribble taken care of, so he takes painstaking care of him. Toro calms him down and purrs on his knees while Hariti laps up some blood on a petri dish. He sits on the ground, working on his homework from that day before bed.

Comments

[cognitived]

The thing is, Clint knows almost immediately what's happened. Sam and Bucky are gone, presumed "dead", and part of him is kicking himself for missing the rescue. But -- Terezi hadn't seen him there, and Clint had known, even when Sam brought it up, that chances were they'd be split anyway. But still, it aches having his partner and the rest of his friends gone. He mourns, visibly, working that angle for the Capitol and relying on a certain birdbrain image to keep his shadow clean.

It works, but he's not the only one hurting.

In the end, Clint lets it go on maybe too long. But he shows up, silent and careful as he picks his way through District 4's rooms, knocking carefully at Aang's door rather than letting himself in automatically. Some measure of freedom, some measure of respect. Aang is a child, but he's been through more than many adults, and he'll continue to do so.

[actually112]

Aang considers not answering. Pretending he's not there. A part of him wants people around, though, even if he's stopped reaching out to them. He hunches over more over his animals, running his fingers through their fur and taking comfort in them.

"Come in."

He appreciates the fact that whoever is on the other side didn't just come barreling in. He likes his privacy being given some respect, even though the Capitol has none for it.