xp_logs | Ev & Clint, Friday morning

Clint learns the real cause of his friend's death. Content warning for discussions of death and implications of violence.

The funeral for Alexa Smith ended with the mourners each shoveling a scoop of dirt over the plain pine casket that had been lowered into the ground. The rabbi said a final prayer, and the mourners dispersed, ritually washing their hands before leaving for Alexa's sister's home to begin sitting shiva. SHIELD Supervisory Special Agent Everett Thomas would not be joining them. He stayed behind, taking a seat on one of the fold-out chairs in front of the grave. His attention seemed focused on the marker that served as a placeholder for the headstone that would not be dedicated for another 11 months. But anyone who looked closely enough could see his dark skin emitting a faint glow, like he was casting a rainbow from his own body. He remained there for a couple of minutes, and then slowly, unsteadily got to his feet.

Clint had hung back. He and Alexa were friends, even after he'd moved to SWORD from SHIELD -- even after he'd left SWORD entirely. She'd been incommunicado for a couple months. And then he'd gotten the call from another friend -- making sure he knew when and where the funeral was going to be. Sometimes... sometimes life was really fucked up. And sometimes you needed to stick around after the really fucked up times to make sure other friends weren't spiraling out of control.

Pushing himself away from the tree as the rest of the mourners departed, Clint walked toward Ev. "Hey," he said.

"Hey." Ev managed a brief, small smile, but it did not hold for long. It had been a while since he had last spoken with his former colleague, even longer since they had seen each other. But no amount of cheer could overcome the pain and loss of one of his closest companions. "Did Phil call you?"

"No," Clint said, shaking his head. "Mutual friend from basic," he murmured, moving to stand beside Ev. He didn't even try to smile, given where they were and the circumstances. "Can you..." Stopping himself, Clint shook his head. "What happened?"

Ev's eyes flashed, illuminated with the same glow that had just enveloped his body. He nodded to his right and slowly led Clint down the walking path through the cemetery. Though he held himself as high and confident as always, his rainbow eyes anxiously darted around, and he kept his voice low. "Retrieval failed," he finally responded. "Completely."

Clint caught the slight flash, but the light was a swirl of gray for him as he followed his friend. Then his mind caught up with the words and he stopped abruptly. "Completely?" His mind raced through variables and possibilities, probabilities -- what could cause something like that? "When?"

Ev did not break stride when Clint froze, only tapped his elbow as he stepped forward to indicate they should keep moving. "Sixteen days ago," he answered. Plus four hours and eleven minutes, but who was counting? "Alexa, Jin, Ajit, Carl, Janet. They didn't make it."

Abruptly picking his feet up again to catch up and keep up with Ev, Clint felt the names hit like bullets -- center mass. Effective. Painful. "None of them?" He asked, knowing it was ridiculous to ask even as he did it. "Jesus fucking Christ. Who the hell did you guys go up against? What were you chasing?" His voice was quiet, more a hiss than a shout, but the intent was there, disbelief still roundly present.

Now Ev stopped. The glow in his eyes faded but his stance remained just as tense. "Franklin Hall," he responded. Even just saying the name, Ev felt a pressure all around him, crushing him, stopping him from moving. Ev screwed his eyes shut, inhaled through his nose, counted to five, and then exhaled. Basic calming technique, but enough to break the spell of paralysis. When Ev resumed his pace, it was like nothing had ever happened.

"SWORD's rogue scientist?" Clint asked, voice still soft. "Who's backing him? How the hell did they manage to take down... shit." Take down everybody? 'Everybody.' Years of specialized training with one another. That team -- shit, that team should've been practically unstoppable.

"It's classified." Ev paused before continuing. "I don't know what he did, but all that time with gravitonium turned him into gravitonium. What happens when you give a brilliant physicist control over one of the fundamental forces of nature?"

Clint could see it in his head. "None of them," he said, voice bleak. "None of them could have compensated." He might've been able -- his powers tended to... let him figure things out, even when external forces were being applied. Gravity, electromagnets, force fields. But even then, it wasn't a sure thing. Bullets through muscle and bone, bullets through memories and promises. Rubbing a hand over his face, Clint shook himself. "What do you need?"

"Agen . . . Clint." Even if Clint had not resigned, there was no need for such formality between them here. Not when they had known each other for so long, and they were surrounded by death in all directions. "This is classified. You don't know any of this. There is nothing to do." He paused again and his posture seemed to relax just a smidgen. "Thank you."

Clint rolled his eyes despite himself. Classified. "I don't know any of what, Ev?" He asked pointedly. He had a name now, at the very least. He had a name, he had an element he could research, and he had people he could ask for help. Not that he'd be telling Ev any of that. Then, expression sobering, he said, "You're welcome. You know, just. Say the word. And I'll be wherever, whenever. Totally uninformed about absolutely everything."

"You don't know any of this. That we found Hall, that he had powers, that he's the one who took us out. I'm serious, Clint. Trust me, this is classified for a reason. I'm telling you because . . . you know why I'm telling you."

"Exactly," Clint said, nodding. "I don't know anything. I have no idea what's been going on for the past five minutes. And yeah, I know why." Layers upon layers, clumsy ones, perhaps, but still. He didn't think his life would ever be free of them, not after the paths he'd chosen to walk. "So, Agent Thomas. I know a diner. Let a guy buy you lunch, huh?"

Ev did not respond right away. His eyes flashed again as they darted around as if to catch sight of every last detail in the graveyard. When he was satisfied, they faded again. "Alright. I could use some food from the chocotastic food group. It's . . . probably best that I don't join for shiva. Hard to explain who I am and why I'm there."

"That's..." Clint wasn't entirely sure he should he should say it. But then he shrugged. "Alexa wouldn't want us to mourn that way, anyway. You know, if we have to mourn at all, it should definitely involve chocolate. She'd appreciate that. And probably alcohol, but I'm guessing that can wait."

"With the amount of pain meds I'm on right now, I should probably avoid that," Ev said, the first hint of a real smile finally playing on his lips.