IC Inbox (v1.0)

[jumpthegun]

You've reached Dr. John Watson. Please leave a message.

Comments

[jumpthegun]

[The Alfie approach seems to have taken some of the bratty wind out of Clint's sails, so that's something.]

Kid was with Stein, and I've traveled with Stein safely on more than one occasion, including when my hands were useless and he could have taken me down in an instant. And Bucky was and is my friend. I didn't have any reason to believe they'd harm me. They aren't the Joker.

[Look at all the logical explanations he has, Clint. LOOK AT THEM. Where's your logic?]

What you're not getting is that it doesn't matter what other people need right now. I'm concerned with what you need. Yes, it's a finite resource, but it's not one we're so hard up for that I'd be choosing to prescribe to you instead of someone like Kesara. You're also not getting that I told you, you don't have to use it. [He knows Nat will make Clint use it, but that's to one side.] It's a resource for you to hold onto if you run into someone else you think might need some. If you think your friends might need some. You're turning down a resource for pure stubbornness and guilt over what's happened.

[awwnoun]

[ UGH NO NOT LOGIC

He knows he's lost, here, and he'd normally be pissed. Clint hates having to be told what to do, for as much as he gets himself into situations where a little outside help might do him some good. Normally, he'd be furious, he'd hang up or slam some doors or - something, but here, where he's in pain both physically and emotionally, he can't muster it up. ]

Fine. Do it, then.

[ That's all. He doesn't have an argument. John wins. ]

[jumpthegun]

[VICTORY! Somehow, it feels hollow. John isn't going to stretch this out.]

You should find a bottle of prescription-grade ibuprofen tomorrow. Good evening, Clint. Please try to get some rest.

[awwnoun]

Yeah, alright. You too. [ And then he hangs up, because that's precisely what he's going to do - nap for the rest of the day. ]