*Peter's POV*
It felt like a long time before Peter calmed down. By the time his ears stopped ringing, the colors stopped burning his eyes, and his irritated skin calmed down, the afternoon sun had long-since sunk. The moonlight washed over the overcrowded and bustling city while Peter slowly sat up. Apparently, he had passed out on the dusty rooftop.
His limbs were sore and aching, further reminding him of the bruises that littered his body. But his thoughts came to a screeching halt as he noticed the sunglasses that sat overtop his mask and the headphones that were covering his masked ears. Where did he get these from?
Peter slowly stood up and stretched carefully, trying not to strain his body while he glanced around the roof. There was nothing around to indicate that anyone had been there in quite some time. He sighed and took the headphones and sunglasses off, racking his brain for any memories of what happened before he passed out.
Faintly, he could remember hushed, concerned words that had startled him during his sensory overload, but everything else was just a haze of bright colors and loud noises.
Peter held the headphones and glasses firmly and jumped from the building that he was on to the next one, choosing to continue this method of transport instead of swinging because of the two items that were occupying his one hand.
Thankfully, it was a Saturday night, so there wasn't any rush. He had a little homework to finish up, but it was hardly anything to stress over, so he took his time and gave his exhausted body a well-deserved rest.
Despite the absolutely shit day that he had experienced, Peter had one thing to look forward to. Monday was his first day of his new internship. The internship that Tony Stark had given him. That was exciting enough to lighten his mood. Though, he was also completely unprepared.
He was an anxious mess and he had nothing prepared for Monday. What was he supposed to bring? And what clothes do interns wear? There were a lot of things that he just wasn't sure of, but he could handle his anxiety. This internship was worth it.
Peter eventually reached the apartment, anxious thoughts mingling with excitement, and he carefully climbed in through his window. He hid his suit in his closet (thankfully remembering unlike usual), setting the headphones and sunglasses on his desk, before he wandered into the bathroom.
He took a cold shower, which was miserable, and he was soon drying off and pulling on a loose t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. They were old clothes from a thrift store, the shirt was a few sizes too big and the pants were too long, but they were fairly comfortable.
Peter sat down at his desk and pulled out his homework. He began working on his assignments, thankful that he finished most of them at school. For the most part, it was easy enough, and he finished swiftly.
Once he was done, he sat back and stared at his desk, contemplating whether or not he should go to sleep. He stood up, ready to collapse onto his bed, when the sunglasses and headphones caught his attention.
Peter sat down on his bed slowly and carefully grabbed the two items, flipping them over in his hands with calculating eyes. Both of them had small letters carved on them. BW & HE. He read it over again and again, they were clearly not part of the original designs, but what did the letters stand for?
He placed the two items back onto his desk and laid down on his bed with a sigh, pulling his blanket up to his chin. It was so nice to lay on his bed, even if it was stiff and his sheets were scratchy.
Peter closed his eyes and rolled over, shifting until he was comfortable. He could finally sleep and put this shitty day behind him.
Just as he was drifting asleep, two names flashed in his mind. Black Widow and Hawkeye.
—
—
—
*Clint's POV*
Clint sat in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling guilt eat away at him. He knew, logically, that it was better that they left Spider-Man alone, but he had been so vulnerable. He was fairly sure that Nat had left a spy-cam on the roof to monitor the arachnid, but it still felt wrong.
He turned over and buried his face in his pillow, trying to push away the guilt. Spider-Man was fine. Clint knows Nat, and she wouldn't just leave without making sure that she could watch over the hero, but he couldn't shake the shame that washed over him when he remembered leaving the hero on the roof.
But it was better than trying to move him, he knew that for certain. Sensory overloads were hard to deal with as is, it would have been hell if they had tried to move him. That thought eased the guilt a little.
Turning back over, Clint glared at the ceiling one more time before sitting up. He climbed out of his bed, wearing a skintight t-shirt and baggy shorts, and clambered out of his room. As quietly as he could manage in his tired state, he tried to maneuver his way through the halls of the tower, eventually making it to the elevator.
Clint entered it with a sigh and backed into the corner so that he could see every other angle of the enclosed space, an anxious habit that he and Natasha had both developed through their years of shady work.
"Roof top, Friday." Clint mumbled while rubbing his eyes, he knew he looked like a mess from the fight earlier and all the sleepless nights that he had endured.
If Friday answered him, he didn't hear it, but the elevator began to rise, taking him to the roof with ease. He stepped out into the chilly night air and sighed, sitting down on the ground with his back leaned up against the wall next to the elevator.
He closed his eyes and relished in the peacefulness of the nighttime. It was so calm. He really wished that he could comfortably sleep in his bedroom, but it was so odd to stay there, even after all the time that he had been living at the tower. Being so high up in the air was a familiar feeling to him, which made the roof his favorite place at the tower.
Clint sat on the roof with his eyes closed for a long time, it was tranquil and he finally felt his thoughts slipping away as sleep tugged at him. And then the elevator doors slid open.
He expected Natasha. It was always Natasha.
But when he turned to make a snarky comment, a smirk making its way to his face, he was met with Wanda. All thoughts trickled away and his smirk dropped from his face, replaced with furrowed brows and confused stuttering for a moment.
She smiled softly at him before sitting down beside him, not quite touching him, looking out across the skyline. Clint quickly pulled himself together and tried his best to recover from his momentary shock.
"What are you doing up, kid?" Clint asked as casually as he could, slinging his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, casting a familiar smile in her direction. The same one he gave to his kids.
"I'm not exactly a kid anymore, y'know..." She mumbled in response, leaning her head on his shoulder. "But, if you must know, I wanted to check on you." Clint raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, waiting for her to elaborate. "You and Natasha wandered off earlier after the mission... I thought you might be up here." She said softly, still looking at the city below them.
"Ah..." Clint muttered, chuckling lightly. "Nat didn't want to go back to the tower yet so we went for a walk." He said slowly, he didn't like saying much about Natasha to the others when she wasn't around, he wasn't always sure what she wanted them to know.
"I'm aware of that." Wanda said before she looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "What exactly did you two do when you went on that walk?" She inquired with a mischievous smile. "For an ex-spy, you're really bad at pretending like something isn't bothering you." She said slyly, laying her head back on his shoulder to look at the city again.
Clint chuckled again and leaned his head back on the wall, turning to look at the city too. "Well, it seems you're the only one who noticed that something was wrong." He replied instead of answering her previous question.
"I might have taken a small peek into your mind, but you know I can only see so much..." Wanda said, a smile present in her voice. "I saw something about that arachnid, Spider-Man."
Clint sighed and shook his head slowly, squeezing her shoulder gently while clicking his tongue. "On our walk, we found Spider-Man on a roof..." He stopped for a moment, wondering if he should actually tell her. But he trusted Wanda. He almost trusted her as much as he trusted Nat. "He was having a sensory overload. We helped him out." He finished, continuing to look out over the city.
Wanda was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "So why are you upset?" She asked in a careful tone, sounding like she was wording her sentence as precisely as she could. "All I can feel in your thoughts is guilt." She mumbled in a quieter voice.
Clint once again sighed, which he seemed to be doing a lot tonight. "Kid—" She sent a small glare in his direction at the nickname. "Wanda, look, it doesn't matter." He said in a controlled tone, trying to not snap at her. He felt like shit and losing his temper with Wanda would not make him feel any better.
"It matters to me, Clint." Wanda said, a strange mix of emotions tangling together in her voice, it almost sounded like a plead.
Using his unoccupied arm, he dragged his hand down his face, and groaned under his breathe. "It's nothing... but I feel like shit because we left him on the roof." Clint finally admitted, cheeks dusted with a light pink. It sounded so stupid and childish out loud.
"You... left him?" Wanda asked slowly, no judgement or anger in her voice, only careful curiosity. "Well, what do you think you should have done instead?" Clint looked down at her just as she turned to look at him, their eyes met again, but it felt more meaningful this time. There was a fight behind her eyes now. "I think what you did was good. You helped him and then left— there was nothing else that you two could have done." Wanda spoke in a firm voice, bringing her hand to squeeze the hand that he had wrapped around her shoulders.
"I-I know..." Clint said in an airy voice, another sigh escaping his lips. "It just bothers me that we don't know anything about him, y'know?" Wanda raised her eyebrow in response, edging him to go on. "Like, our team is always able to check on each other. If something is wrong, we're there for each other. Even if we don't like it. But... but Spider-Man, fuck, Spidey just..." Clint let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his free hand down his face again.
"Take your time." Wanda whispered with an encouraging smile. "We have all night."
"We can only help him if he comes to us." Clint spit out at last. "That's it. There is no other way for us to contact him." He looked away from Wanda, the fight in her eyes was too much for him to bare at the moment. "It sucks that all we can do is give him headphones and sunglasses and then just leave him all alone."
Clint felt Wanda lay her head back down on his shoulder, nodding into his shirt. "I know..." She said at last, voice soft. "I know."
Clint closed his eyes and took in a deep breathe, laying his head down on top of Wanda's. It was nice to know that someone other than Natasha could understand him.