poly_chromatic | 1st Vintage Card

Entry tags:

avengers - phil coulson

1st Vintage Card - Voice/Action

[The sound of the fountain could be heard, and the sound of a man coughing out water as he tried to talk. His voice sounds strained and short of breath.]

Boss? [A wet cough] This isn’t exactly what I expected. Can anyone... read me? [No names or call outs, just in case this was... something else. Better safe then sorry.]

[A slopping sound, as if he just hit ground and leaned back on something, could be heard over a wet cough. The tone of his voice however was dry:] This isn't the carrier. This better not be the afterlife.

((Some tags will be answered after he's out of the hospital. Feel free to action tag him in the hospital however!))

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[He stopped talking to Charlie at this point, fading out a moment only to blink, hearing them come in. But all he sees is the red head at the moment, so he's not staring at the other man yet.]

[He winced as she put pressure on it, but nodded, swallowing back blood.]

Went... through. From the back. [he realized that sounds bad, but it feels worse, he can assure you that.]

[ The second the two of them stop by him, Clint freezes, briefly, but it's long enough for him to kick himself over later.

For now, he does as he's ordered and reaches for the bag, removing the coat and tucking it under his arm, and then, carefully, he picks up the gun, moving it out of the way, but not so far he can't keep an eye on it - they can deal with it later. If he throws it a fleeting glare, as if he blames the thing for Phil getting stabbed, well, no one needs to know.

His voice is washed of emotion, serious and professional, and he can do this, he tells himself, it's no different from any other agent down and bleeding. It's a lie, but he'll take it. ]

Think he can hang in there if we move him? [ The cold is helping to slow the blood, but moving him won't help matters, and, as good as they are, they're not medically trained professionals. Lowering his voice so that only Natasha can hear. ] We've probably caught him with better timing, but the outcome the first time around wasn't-- [ He swallows, composing himself quickly. ] He didn't make it.

[She takes a breath and nods at Phil's response keeping one hand on the towel she has pressed against his chest she reaches around with the other hand to feel along his back gently.

She doesn't flicker much more than calm recognition when her hand pulls away with blood on it. Reaching down for another towel she maneuvers herself so that she can place one hand on either side to apply clean towels and pressure to both wounds.

Looking back to Clint she tries to appear as reassuring as possible, but in truth she isn't entirely certain of anything, except that she's actually a little glad Coulson is half frozen, because otherwise their timing probably wouldn't have mattered.]

We can't stay here. [She's perceptive enough to have known that there was something about what happened before they arrived here that would have upset Barton, but she wasn't entirely sure of the extent. She hadn't asked, and he hadn't offered the information until now. So, yes. Their best bet now would be to move. And as quickly as they can.]

As much as it is a pain the cold is one of the things we have working in our favor. Let's get him up, put the coat over his shoulders and get moving. I'll keep pressure and help carry him, you'll have to do the rest. Got it?

[ He nods as he listens, hesitating only long enough to run the scenario over in his mind, and he forces himself not to think beyond that; anything besides strategy isn't going to help anyone at this point, and Natasha, always better in that department, less rash and more patient, than himself, well, she's not wrong. ]

Got it. [ He's down on the ground, crouching beside Phil's unsettling positioned body, and readies himself. ] Gotta move you, now, sir. [ It's the first thing he's said to him, directly or otherwise, and it comes out steadier than he thought it would, a light hint at humour in his tone. ] Can't leave you alone for five minutes without incident. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get the good stuff.

[ He slides his arm beneath Phil, careful of the wound, but firm enough to get and keep a good grip, the other resting behind his knees until he takes his weight, makes it look easier than it is, face determined, and all the while overly aware of Natasha's need to keep her hands pressing down. He apologises quietly for the pain it causes to move him, trying to keep him as still and steady as he can, and he never apologises if he can get away with it. ] You got him covered like this?

[He was letting her move him as needed, or do what ever. He really wasn't paying proper attention, to tell the truth. It was getting harder to focus on any of this.]

[Only then he heard the other. his brow raised, head turned, looking at Hawkeye. He felt himself lick cold lips, eyes trying to focus right. Then there was the smallest of smile tugging at the corner of his lip.]

Mmm, they did it. [They got Barton back. He could actually die in peace now, thanks. Not that he wants to. He had to blink off cold and sleep when he realized Natasha was talking. Get him moving. Check.]

How far? [He grunted as Barton lifted him, eyes closing tight and holding a breath for a moment. Yep. No more talking. Don't need to. No comments or wit. Just going to let his head swim a moment. He might have mildly blacked out for a moment, if that helps any. He might still be awake, with how he was trying to control his breath. Eyes closed and silent though, it was hard to tell.]

I'm good.

[She rises with him keeping her hands in place. She can offer support from her position.

They've got this, once then get a good rhythm down they won't have any problems. It isn't as though she and Clint are so far out of step with each other they're going to have any issues.]

Not far. [Calm and level. She's good at keeping her head.] Stay with me though, you got that? [Her eyes meet Clint's and she nods.] Let's go.

[ Eyes meeting Natasha's, Clint nods, and he lets the worry show for a second. But they've got this, and they're acting quick enough to make a difference. He clings to the thought that, if the deities were to bring someone in, then they wouldn't allow them any chances to slip away before they get to play with them. ]

No clocking out on us, sir. [ He's switching quickly between watching where he's going, knowing the journey by heart helping matters, and checking to see that Phil stays with them. He knows from his own experiences that keeping him awake is the best thing he can do until they can stop the bleeding and get him to the hospital after for fluids and drugs to help recovery. ] You know what Tasha's like, she'd kill you before you get the chance. And who'd keep me in line?

[He's not talking too much now. A nod at tasha for telling him to stay with her. a mumbled sound, really. And Barton telling him to not clock out? Well... he'd already told Fury he was clocking out, didn't he? But now he had to stick around. Had to. Weird things happening. ]

[Barton was back.]

[Things had to be better. He swallowed back more blood and nodded, trying to open his eyes]

Not... going anywhere. Stupid. Stupid mistake. She got you back. Got to... stay around, now.

Good, because Barton is right. If you're going to die? I'm going to have to kill you.

[There is a mocking touch of sincerity in her voice.]

Then Clint will get all weepy, and mope another divot into the couch. I promise it's not pretty. [She knows first hand, and would really rather not go there again if they can help it.] Let's try not to go there.

[There they've got it, ease as that. A fast walk, careful not to jostle him around to much. It's fine.

Not too far to go.]

Edited 2012-12-30 06:05 (UTC)

[ With Phil being here before, since the incident he tries not to think about if possible, he almost forgot he wouldn't know he was no longer under Loki's control. ]

Glad to hear it, sir. [ He bites his tongue on an explanation of what happened next, he doesn't need to think about it while he's trying to hang in there, and then there's the fact this Natasha isn't their Natasha, but she's still Natasha.

Instead, he throws her a warning look, one they both know he's not going to follow through on; he's not suicidal, and she always wins. ] Hey, watch who you're calling weepy. [ But notice how he doesn't deny it.

The building's right there, several steps away. ] Get the door, I've got him from here.

[he's only picking up half of what was being said, which honestly is frustrating. His head feels heavy and his mind light, which is also frustrating. He'll blame the cold, or the loss of blood. Right, the pain helps too. Thank the maker he has such a high pain threshold.]

You have a couch? [was pretty much the first thing he honed into there. And what he chose to comment on. Yes, he sounded surprised. Surprised that he has a couch, not that he cries on it. Or did he miss that part?]

[And god damn it's cold. He hates the cold. Warm locations are so much more his taste.]

[She shoots Clint back a 'Trololol bring it' look with a tiny relieved smile. They made it. Coulson is still talking... She can be a little relieved. This was the hardest part, right?

Wavering a moment she isn't sure if she should let go, but she does, because they have get in the building for this to be effective.

So, she lets go of the wound on the front, the hand against the one on his back is sticky and she's not naive enough to think it's anything but blood, so her focus remains on that wound while she pulls the door open. She lets go completely to allow Clint through and to be sure she'd not in the way of anyone who might meet them to help.

Stepping inside she takes a backseat now, because she doesn't know enough about what went on, or who Phil even is to be much help. Barton can take over from here.]

[ Clint manoeuvres him through the doorway without managing to knock him into anything, and as they enter the lobby, he heads straight for the reception area, declaring the situation quickly and coherently, waiting for the help to come.

The fact she falls back doesn't go unnoticed, but he appreciates how awkward it could be in that position. ]

Even got an apartment to go with it. You've got a room, with a bed, and clothes. It's one less thing to worry about. [ He's not touched the room since Phil left, even if he has occasionally snuck in and curled up on the bed once or twice to torture himself. ] And a dog. Your dog. You're gonna love the name you picked, sir.

Edited 2012-12-30 06:42 (UTC)

[There are SO MANY things wrong with this world right now. Well, beside bleeding out to death for a stupid, stupid mistake. Lets see. He heard Peppers voice, and Cap was here, Natasha has long hair, Barton is back and telling him he has a room and cloths and...]

A dog? [He said with a bit of a garbled sound, his body tightening in pain and his eyes closed shut, hard. Ow, ow, ow. How long had they been here. He'd been here before? HOW? His head hurt now too. And he felt like his mind as spinning.]

[Maybe he really was dying and this was all just a dream, because this can't really Be real, can it?]

[Doesn't matter. He passed out just then, slumped over into the mans arms until medics could take him away.]

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1st Vintage Card - Voice/Action

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