ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Hear Me

Vignette - Hear Me
Dramatis Personae Clint, Fury
In Absentia	2016-01-14 "I said we are /done./"
Location <NYC> SHIELD HQ - Time Square
It's a small room, plain-looking room with many potential uses, but at the moment it contains only a sturdy table with two chairs facing each other. In one sits the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick Fury wears a black turtleneck sweater and black jeans, a black eyepatch covering his left eye and a laptop open in front of him, though the screen is swiveled around to face away from him. Clint sits across from him in a gray button-down shirt and black slacks, hands steepled, expression blank. A young man with curly brown hair in a navy-and-white checked shirt and khakis hovers over him, glancing between his tablet and a small, black device hanging over the shell of Clint's ear. "Alright, let's try it again," says the tech, taking a step back. "Go ahead, Director." Flinching just a little at the words, Clint looks up at the tech for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then back across the table at his boss. Fury holds up a 5x7 index card in front of him, at a distance and height such that he can both read it and block Clint's line of sight to his mouth. He types on his keyboard, the black screen displaying 'Ready?' in large blue letters. Clint nods once: chin dipping, then back up. "Gun," Fury says, at a conversational volume. Again Clint flinches, the reaction just barely visible. "Gun," he echoes. The tech makes a note on his tablet. "Red," Fury says. Same slight wince, plus a momentary hesitation. "Dead." The brow over Fury's good eye lifts slightly. "Life." Clint's eyes narrow, as if he would stare straight through the index card. After a moment. "Lie." Fury shakes his head fractionally. "Dog." Still with a pained blink, Clint's reply comes quickly this time, "Dog." Fury nods. "Talk." There's a long delay from Clint. Then, finally, without much confidence: "Stalk?" Fury's expression is stony. "Nice." Clint just stares this time. Shakes his head. "I have no idea." Fury sighs, and eyes the tech sidewise, accusingly. "Calm." Clint's eye twitches. "Comm," he says, sounding most determined, though one of his hands lifts to massage the side of his head. "This is not working for me. It's also giving me a splitting headache." Dropping the card to the table, Fury shakes his head. "We're done here." He types the same words a moment later for Clint to see. "It's going pretty well, actually," the tech pipes happily. "If I adjust the output again and..." "Do /you/ need a hearing aid, Agent Fitz?" Fury level a very flat look at the tech. "I said we are /done./ And you are dismissed." "Yes, Sir." Fitz doesn't seem /too/ put out, for all that, but he does makes himself scarce, shutting the door behind him. Clint removes the hearing aids, the furrow between his brows easing. "Thanks, Director." Fury doesn't reply out loud at all. 'You all right?' he types. Clint shrugs one shoulder. "Hurts a bit." 'You didn't have to go through this just because Fitz had a new toy to try.' Clint /almost/ smiles. "/You/ didn't need to sit through it with me. Anyway, /I/ was curious about his new toy." He looks down at the hearing aids, tiny and innocuous on the table between them. "Just not so much his attitude." Fury gives a rough guffaw of a laugh. 'I think I encouraged this attitude, inadvertently.' His fingers hover over the keys for a moment. 'This idea that you needed fixing.' "You should stop," Clint replies mildly. "But it probably won't help. Most hearing people think that way regardless. And more than most, people like him look at me like a collection of problems to solve. A puzzle. At least he has the excuse of being an engineer. The doctors..." Here he just shrugs barely perceptibly. 'Doctors same way?' Fury types, though the very slight lift of his right eyebrow doesn't suggest much doubt. "Same, or worse." This is very dry, very nonchalant. "Anyway, I'm sure Agent Fitz's sound processor could be very helpful to a lot of people out there. The problem isn't hearing aids." He pauses here, and for a moment looks as though he might just stop for good. But then, finally, he adds, "It's people so focused on making me hear that they don't hear me."