They were shaking hands, it obviously was time to go. So Clint did the same and said good-bye, one of the few Italian phrases he could remember right now.
Natasha still had that resolute, no-bullshit-tone and he was very thankful for that. Orders were good. He was great at orders.
He followed her with his hand clutched around that damn sheet, counted the tiles of the floor and hardly looked up when Natasha vanished after another order. Right. Formalities. Organizing stuff. He could do that too. That was what they had come for, right? Getting their appointment and all.
Everything else that had happened... was kind of lost in a confused haze and the grim determination to keep it together. To not run outside and then keep running, up the hills or maybe a few miles away, to Mount Etna... That actually sounded pretty nice. Just running until he couldn't breathe anymore and his head would shut up, and if he was lucky, he blacked out and fell into that damn volcano.
It was a nice fantasy but Natasha had told him to do the checkout, so he handed the paper stuff to the nurse who neared him, seemingly informed of everything. He got two more sheets back, a little more formal and colorful looking, and then a whole other pile of forms for Natasha to read. The woman talked and talked and he had no idea what she was saying. It probably had something to do with what they should and shouldn't do before that appointment, but his ability to translate had completely shut down for the day.
He rather kept on staring on the floor while he nodded and gave a monotone "Si, signora" from time to time and wondered if it was impolite to ask the chick to call him a cab, because that was the only help they needed right now. But she kept on talking and he stared pass her to the door, trying to make out if there were maybe cabs on the parking lot.
Instead his gaze fell on a young couple entering through the big glass doors, accompanied by some first aiders. The young woman sat in a wheelchair and hugged a grotesque huge belly, looking more unnerved than anything. Her just as young boyfriend didn't stop talking for even a second, emphasizing every word with the typical Italian restless hand gestures. Of course his girl had worn sun protection, did they think he was an idiot? Why were they asking stupid questions instead of checking on her? And why had it taken them half an hour to arrive? Couldn't they see, she was pregnant?
The paramedics looked like they would throw the guy out every second and the people in the waiting hall wrinkled their noses at the disturbance. But the girl caught Clint's stare before he could look away to not act like a creep. To his surprise, the girl smiled, just a little to not upset her guy even more, and cradled her belly as if to signalize, everything was okay.
Clint had an idea, he looked even worse than he felt if even completely strangers could tell just by his face. The couple seemed nice. They looked happy. Wasn't that what it was supposed to be, something good and nice and joyful? Why did he feel like someone was ripping his heart out then?
He vaguely registered Natasha next to him and supposed they were ready to go. The nurse had given up getting anything into his head anyway. He tilted his head aside and meet Natasha's eyes fleetingly, waiting for the next order.
no subject
Natasha still had that resolute, no-bullshit-tone and he was very thankful for that. Orders were good. He was great at orders.
He followed her with his hand clutched around that damn sheet, counted the tiles of the floor and hardly looked up when Natasha vanished after another order. Right. Formalities. Organizing stuff. He could do that too. That was what they had come for, right? Getting their appointment and all.
Everything else that had happened... was kind of lost in a confused haze and the grim determination to keep it together. To not run outside and then keep running, up the hills or maybe a few miles away, to Mount Etna... That actually sounded pretty nice. Just running until he couldn't breathe anymore and his head would shut up, and if he was lucky, he blacked out and fell into that damn volcano.
It was a nice fantasy but Natasha had told him to do the checkout, so he handed the paper stuff to the nurse who neared him, seemingly informed of everything. He got two more sheets back, a little more formal and colorful looking, and then a whole other pile of forms for Natasha to read. The woman talked and talked and he had no idea what she was saying. It probably had something to do with what they should and shouldn't do before that appointment, but his ability to translate had completely shut down for the day.
He rather kept on staring on the floor while he nodded and gave a monotone "Si, signora" from time to time and wondered if it was impolite to ask the chick to call him a cab, because that was the only help they needed right now. But she kept on talking and he stared pass her to the door, trying to make out if there were maybe cabs on the parking lot.
Instead his gaze fell on a young couple entering through the big glass doors, accompanied by some first aiders. The young woman sat in a wheelchair and hugged a grotesque huge belly, looking more unnerved than anything. Her just as young boyfriend didn't stop talking for even a second, emphasizing every word with the typical Italian restless hand gestures. Of course his girl had worn sun protection, did they think he was an idiot? Why were they asking stupid questions instead of checking on her? And why had it taken them half an hour to arrive? Couldn't they see, she was pregnant?
The paramedics looked like they would throw the guy out every second and the people in the waiting hall wrinkled their noses at the disturbance. But the girl caught Clint's stare before he could look away to not act like a creep. To his surprise, the girl smiled, just a little to not upset her guy even more, and cradled her belly as if to signalize, everything was okay.
Clint had an idea, he looked even worse than he felt if even completely strangers could tell just by his face. The couple seemed nice. They looked happy. Wasn't that what it was supposed to be, something good and nice and joyful? Why did he feel like someone was ripping his heart out then?
He vaguely registered Natasha next to him and supposed they were ready to go. The nurse had given up getting anything into his head anyway. He tilted his head aside and meet Natasha's eyes fleetingly, waiting for the next order.