This time, the thing that creaks open isn't the window over the staircase.
It's her front door, and the lock jiggles for a second before opening and she's beyond confused because the only person with a key to this apartment other than her is Clint and her mother, and one of them is in Iowa and the other is in jail.
Regardless, the door opens a second later and a voice calls out, "Kate? You home?"
It's Clint. What is he doing here? If Kate's not mistaken, a year ago, he was making a big deal about being home for Christmas and now he's back where he started; New York City a couple weeks away from Christmas.
Kate gets out of bed and looks over the balcony, a million emotions running through her head when she recognizes Clint. What is he doing here? Why is he here? He should be in Iowa, not in New York.
"Why are you here?" he looks up when he hears her voice, confusion writ on his face.
"Why do you look like shit?"
Well, she guesses she appreciates the honesty.
"And I heard through the grapevine that you're trying to turn your liver inside out, so I thought that I'd come here and see for myself," Clint takes off his jacket, slinging it over the back of her couch and sitting down, "Come down here and talk to me."
"Clint, I'm fine, seriously, just go home," Kate responds, looking back at her bed a little desperately. She really just wants to go back to watching bad TV shows and sleeping her headache off.
"Come downstairs, Kate," he retorts in his father voice, and Kate sighs. He's not going to leave.
Begrudgingly, she trudges downstairs and to the couch, sitting as far on the other side of where he's sitting as possible. Her head is still pounding and she can barely keep hold of any thoughts, but she sits and waits for him to say something - anything.
"So is this what you were busy with last week?" he cocks his head slightly, looking more concerned than anything, "You know you could have told me, right? I mean, c'mon, this place reeks of booze and last I saw you, you refused to drink anything."
"Things change, Clint," Kate responds dryly, wanting him to leave as soon as possible. She really doesn't like this situation.
"Things change, yes," Clint nods, "however. You're my responsibility, even if I am in Iowa, and I'm here to see Natasha for her birthday tomorrow. I understand that you didn't want to come to Thanksgiving with Yelena being there, but that doesn't mean you can drink yourself into a hole."
"I think it's less damaging than going on a murder spree," Kate snips at him, and she immediately sees him stiffen a little bit.
"You know that that wasn't a correct reaction."
"There is no correct reaction!" Kate yells, "My life sucks! I lost my mom and my girlfriend and my fucking dog and maybe, just maybe, I wanted to cope in some way!"
"That doesn't have to be drinking, Kate," he's eerily calm and it only serves to make Kate angrier.
"Sorry, next time I lose everyone I care about, I'll go murder people. Seems like it all worked out well for you," Kate responds, standing and walking toward the kitchen. She's irritated when she realizes she's out of food and alcohol and walks back towards the living room.
"Kate, I'm trying to look out for you. Just because I've made mistakes in my past doesn't mean that you have to follow in those footsteps. You're smarter than that and you're better than that," Clint replies, standing up from the couch and trying to get a better read on her, "I know that Pepper offered you a place to stay. You should take it and get a fresh start."
"What's the point?" Kate asks, a sob bubbling in her throat, "I don't have anything."
"You have a lot," Clint responds, "You have me. And my kids and Laura. I know things are rough with you and Yelena right now and maybe you don't get back together and maybe you do, but you can't let that hold you back. Peter has your back and obviously Pepper and Tony do, too."
"It's pity-"
"It's not pity," Clint shakes his head, walking a little closer and looking so sympathetic, "We care about you, Kate. You have to put the work in for yourself, though. You're too good not to," he reaches over to the dining table and hands her a napkin for the tears that finally started falling, "I'll come around more often, okay?"
"You have a family," Kate says softly, wiping at her eyes gently, "You don't have time to have another kid."
"Says who?" Clint asks, "I've been balancing being an Avenger and dad and personal lookout for Natasha for years. Chances are you'll be the easiest part of my job since I started."
Kate can't help but laugh a little at that and it all feels too much like a Dad calming down his daughter.
"Kate, I have your back. I promise. If you ever need to get out of the city, we always have a place for you," Clint says, gently pulling her into his side, "I'll even tell Yelena to stay at Nat's if she's there. You can't avoid her forever, though."
Kate nods, "I know."
"Good," Clint takes the half-used tissue and cleans her face up, "let's go get something for dinner. This apartment is making me sad."
-
After taking a well-needed shower, dressing herself in a clean pair of black jeans, a warm dark purple sweater and her docs (which desperately need to be cleaned), Kate and Clint end up at a burger place.
He promises to visit the week before Christmas with Lila so that she doesn't feel obligated to come when Yelena's in Iowa and reminds her continually that his phone number is with her in case she needs anything. She considers it a big upgrade from the initial rule of "only in emergencies" from a year ago.
When she returns home that night, she feels a little more alive than before, and can't help but notice the stench now that she'd been out of the apartment for a couple of hours.
She also notices the quiet, there's no Yelena clanging in the kitchen or Lucky snoring on the couch or much of anything. It's eerie.
She remedies that quickly by turning every single light on and the TV, scrolling through her YouTube playlists before picking her mix and letting it play.
It feels like the universe is on her side when This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things plays loudly and she immediately strips off her long coat before starting to pick things up around the house. There are takeout bags and various bottles of what used to be alcohol and she can push off the headache for a while as she belts out Taylor Swift songs and cleans.
She can't disappoint Clint again, she reminds herself. She can't disappoint herself, either, but she knows that if she reprimands herself she'll just end up drinking again. Clint will at least tell her to fix her shit and offer to help in the same breath. He offered to come back to the apartment tonight, but she found it a little stupid to have an Avenger on her lumpy old couch.
That's something to do, she rationalizes, buy a new couch.
She hangs up her bows and puts her arrows in her arrow bucket, even wiping down the counters in the kitchen and fixing the bunched-up rug in the living room. She folds the blanket tossed over the couch and her eyes burn when she remembers finding Yelena curled up under this exact blanket on this couch a few too many times.
Kate decides that she'll get Lucky back soon, paying careful attention to clean up his food and water bowls and putting them back in their spot when she's done.
By three in the morning, the apartment looks and smells better than it has in two months, and she picks up her buzzing phone, smiling when she sees a text from Peter, asking how she's doing.
She responds with a what're you doing up? before checking through other missed things. Her stomach admittedly twists at her missing assignments, but she promises hereslf she'll do them and her thumb falls upon a specific name.
Charlie.
Biting the bullet, she types out a simple text.
hey! sorry for falling off the face of the earth recently. when you get a chance, do you wanna hang out?
(What she doesn't expect when she wakes the next morning is a text back saying yes. )