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[ He hates that people who want to target him wind up targeting them both. Or maybe these are her people this time - they both have a lot of demons, after all. He hates that they get her when they're coming after him and he hates that her past comes up at all. He doesn't mind being collateral damage in her history, just so long as she isn't such in his.

And he's dangerously close right now, watching things happening and slipping into that daze that seems to precede a true fugue. He's observant, cataloging, just not reacting that much. He's reacted enough, it's why they reacted to him like they did. They reacted all over him, although thankfully it was after he'd pissed them off enough to be taken to another room. Part of it had been by accident, and part because he wanted more of them in the room with him and out of the room with her.

Of course, now they're back together and that's not going that well either. ]

[ They haven't said anything yet about what they want. Maybe they're trying to drive her crazy by the lack of a purpose to this, maybe they're just softening her up, or him up, but if they wanted something from her the moment to get it was when they had Tony in another room and she had no way to reach him or protect him and nothing to do but listen because apparently they'd decided to concentrate efforts on him for a bit. Now?

They'd waited too long, now. She was angry, in the cold hard way that came rarely and was almost entirely a result of Tony's face right now and the hard red light that danced in front of her eyes every time she felt how close he was to fugue. It had been a little while since she'd fought with the aim to kill, but they'd made the mistake of assuming she couldn't untie her own bound hands and she had one hand loose in its coils of rope and not a single one of them who'd touched Tony was going to leave this room alive.

She'd been tossing out insults for a little bit now, seeking out their attention with cutting disregard for anything they did to her. Just a little closer, and she finally had one of them with a gun just angry enough to come too close for his own good. Just angry enough, and she takes the pistol to her face with a turn of her head, her hand slipping free and up to grab his hand and break it, clean and fast and then she catches the gun and stands. ]

Close your eyes, Tony. [ Her face is completely devoid of expression when she shoots the guard in the forehead and then she moves, uses the chair she's still bound to by one hand as a weapon before it smashes. She has a limited window of surprise that's running out fast, but she bided her time and watched how they moved and she's done her calculations. They're already dead. They just don't know it yet. ]

[ It's weird, how often the pair of them seem to be softened up prior to anyone ever actually telling them what they want from them. Tony was wondering earlier if they hadn't somehow developed some sort of reputation from prior experiences. Beat 'em up first, ask questions later, then beat 'em up again. Tried and true method, obviously. Both of them are being hit now, which wasn't what he'd wanted, but there's not much he can do about it. They'd already seen to that earlier. The last hit comes when his eyes are closed, centering himself from the previous one, still recalibrating and recovering.

The gunshot is loud.

For a while that's all he can think about, because while he started to turn to look at her when she started moving - in a fugue or at least just before it, you don't really need to look at things to know they're happening, not unless you need specifics, but it doesn't mean that things that move don't catch your eye regardless - the gunshot is loud and he squeezes his eyes closed again almost immediately and curls away from it. Fugue sends all his senses outward, spreads him wide until he's covering everything and everything comes back to him, and in the pre-stages, that much of anything, before the numbness sets in and he's actually there, it's too much. It's not normally as wide a window as all that, but then, normally he's not doing it at all, normally it's not such a slow slide into it.

Eventually he does open his eyes though - it's not that long, because he can hear things and he needs to see them too, part of his brain isn't so far gone and part of him needs to see even if it doesn't constitute believing per se.

There's not a whole lot he can do though, between states, and part of him feels kind of useless and part of him is relieved that he doesn't have to do this this time, and part of him is just watching, awed. He doesn't typically get the chance to watch her in true action. He's kind of sad for that - or, he will be, once he's got the presence of mind to do so. There's someone trying to hide behind him now, he can tell, now that she's in control of things, now that he's no longer something to target but something to divert the target off of himself. Tony doubts that will work, keeps watching her move in the meantime because there's an elegance to it that he doesn't often get to witness. Normally - and not just with her, but in general - he doesn't move like that, he thinks. Not in the suit, which is all brute force beyond its graceful dynamics. His methods bear no technique beyond their superficial intention, merely the madness behind their inventor's second mask.

It's things like that that make him not worry about things like the guy behind him, the guy he can tell is terrified six ways from Sunday (or at least three, because Tony can hear his breathing, smell his endocrine system's balancing for the flight or flight, for adrenaline, and feel his pulse through the skin of the arm around his neck, feel the tremble in the hand holding the gun). He hasn't even reacted to that guy. He's not worth that much attention. ]

[ She knows she has a reputation as being hard to crack, among certain circles from her past. Not impossible, because there are very few or no people who are truly impossible, but she's had experience and they know she doesn't break easily. The smart ones know the easiest way to get to her is through the people she cares about. The not quite as clever ones just go for brute force, and the ones who are intelligent but not enough to know how to manipulate her emotions well enough go for some mixture that she really despises but won't make her crack.

The thing is, the body may become unaccustomed to pain quickly but hers is used to it enough to readjust quickly. She's quite good at removing herself from a situation until something brings her back, and anything to do with Tony - he's impossible to ignore. Him in pain is even more impossible. All they've succeeded in doing is making her angry and force her to remain in the state in which she's angry, while not approaching anywhere near the level of pain and isolation and despair that would eventually snap her. And now they're suffering the consequences.

She's spent thirteen years of her life training in every spare moment, learning any style she could get people to teach her, memorizing every method of killing people she could lay her hands on, and right now she's willing to utilize every one of them because of the way Tony looks and sounds when people hit him, because they dared touch her Sentinel and not only did they hurt him but they did it in her presence, they made her watch and every second was another bit of fuel to the fire. Because he is hers in every way that matters and she doesn't care whether they're bonded or not, that doesn't matter. Because there is nothing in this moment that matters more than that they stop hurting Tony - not her own safety, not her life, not anything. She's moving for efficiency and evasion, a long learned and practiced grace in her motions, flowing from one to another without hesitation or consideration. It's all automatic and practiced at once, the chair discarded as she uses the momentum of vaulting over one guard to snap his neck and land into a snap kick to another's chest, followed by shots to the heart and head. There weren't too many of their opponents - certainly not enough in this particular instance, and she clears the room quickly except for the one trying to hold Tony hostage. Him she only becomes fully aware of as she shoots the last of the other guards, and when she sees him she goes very still. For a long moment they stand off, her expression still totally blank, and then she bends and places her gun down, raises her hands up.

She won't need it for this plan, and she needs him away from Tony, needs him to be aiming at her instead. She's not going to risk anything until then. ] Worth a try. [ Deadpan, and she reaches into the man's mind and goes looking for what she needs. He really shouldn't have tried holding Tony hostage. There's a quick and a merciful death, and there's the things a furious empath can do to your head. The only thing saving him is the gun aimed at Tony, and that can only last so long. ]

[ He's fairly sure his own reputation doesn't fall anywhere along the 'hard to crack' lines. If anything, it's closer to the 'just don't let him fucking build anything, jesus' side of things now. Which is funny, because most people tend to want him to do just that: build things.

Which is in part what made all of this so weird. He knows at one point he asked them what they wanted, and it wasn't so he could give it to them, it was simply to figure out why this was happening, who they were with, and what it was he shouldn't be telling them. He's sure it didn't come off that way though. Not by their reactions - they thought they were getting somewhere with him. Didn't do much to dull them down at all, but the knowledge that they were at least wrong about that is enough to make him okay with some of the rest of this.

But right now he's not really thinking about anything but her. It's amazing how rapidly his focus has switched in terms of everyday thought - just her. It's always been her. Is now, at any rate. Probably would have been anyway right now even without the insane amount of connection between them at this point.

It's weird, how almost passively he watches her take out the last guys and then stop, size up the situation, and then apparently surrender. He doubts that's it - doesn't believe it at all, in fact - and decides to just keep waiting. (Well, 'decides'. It's pretty much what he was going to do anyway.) He can't tell what she's doing though, isn't sure if she's actually doing anything at all or if she's just waiting for the guy behind him to do something first. Potentially both. Probably both, at least, based on the shift in the man's heartbeat, the gradual decrease in pressure from the gun to his head until he can't feel it at all. He's not sure what happened to it, and isn't going to move either way, but still. Interesting. ]

[ Frankly, she doesn't know why anyone even tries to kidnap him any more. It's never been a good idea as far as she can tell, and the last several times have resulted in violent explosions and deaths and maimings.

Tony's still watching her. It's what she's thinking of second most of all, right behind the groundwork she's laying in this guy's emotions, just waiting for the moment the gun's pointed anywhere but at Tony's head. (And she can only do this because she has control, because Tony has given her that, because she's been happy and content long enough that she's been able to work at regulating her empathy.)

And the thing is, she doesn't really want Tony to be watching her, or to have seen this, no matter how much it's true that she did it for him. He'd never actually seen her kill before this - known that she had, that time with the bank robbery, sure, but up until now he had never seen her kill. She'd liked that. She'd wanted to keep it, if possible, this place where she could be someone who had never had to resort to murder. That her actions presented themselves as the only sane and reasonable ones in this scenario doesn't make them any less unforgiveable in her mind. It's the same with every kill she's ever made, and there have been quite a few over the years. Their blood is on her hands and always will be. There is no washing that out, but they needed to die.

When her eyes flicker to him it's for nothing more than to offer a reassuring nod, face still blank as she takes a few steps sideways, forces the guard to circle as he comes out warily. The moment the gun is fully off of Tony she pulls the covers off of the trap she'd been building for the guard, every childhood fear and paranoia and tired 3am thought she can find in his mind in one spot, fear amplified. The report of the gun is loud as she moves, but she's confident. There's a line of pain along her arm where the bullet nicked it and nothing else when she knocks him out, watches him a long moment before using her foot to break his neck before she turns towards Tony. ]

We're going to need to leave now. [ A beat, and she stoops and picks up the dropped gun and moves towards him, tucking it into the back of her waistband, single minded. ] I need you to try to hold out against the fugue just a little bit longer, until we're home scotch free, okay?

[ This time, the gunshot is actually painful, whether because it's closer, because it's the second round fired in as many minutes, or just because it's loud and his senses are deteriorating into that sort of thing.

He doesn't actually hear her for a whole, straining against his own chair with the effort to curl in on himself, just to get away from that sound. He only catches the tail end of her words. But it's enough. There's not a whole lot he imagines she would be saying right now anyway. Sounds are loud right now so he's not going to talk until that at least equalizes back down a bit, and the nodding is enough after about three repetitions of the movement he's pretty much finished with it.

It's because of the gunshot that he didn't actually see the death of the final man, but he smelled his fear and heard his neck snap and it leaves little to his imagination regardless. Later, he'll be considering all of this, but right now he's mostly just grateful. It's not as though he hasn't gone on his own sprees, doesn't have his own blood to contend with. Anyone he's killed since and including Afghanistan pales in comparison to the numbers he racked up before that. He still isn't even sure how to begin quantifying all of that. ]

Get me out. [ Okay, a little talking. For reassurances sake. And also because he's tired of being passive, he'd like to get up and move now. Things'll be better -- ] Once I get moving.

[ She'd been trying to avoid using guns, mostly, even if it would have been easier, because she knew the sound was too loud. Hand to hand was harder, took more time and effort and dodging ability when the other side had guns, but it was worth the extra effort and she's not at all pleased that had to be ruined. She picks up a second gun as she moves towards him, checks that the safety's on and puts it on his thigh before she unties his right hand as fast as she can. A way to protect himself should anyone come in right now. ]

It won't take me long. [ Her, because maybe last time he'd been in a rage and the safest thing to do had been step out of the way, but right now she's easily the most functional between the two of them, starting from an approximately even base of beatings received.

And there, second hand free and she moves to his front, bends to take his face in her hands and check his eyes, looking for signs of a concussion or anything else she can see as she touches his mind with hers, gives what effort she can towards easing his senses. A moment later and she lets go, nods firmly and tears off the sleeve of her shirt to bind around her arm. She would have done that earlier, just to try to muffle the smell of blood in the room for him, but they've both been bleeding for some time now so that didn't particularly matter. ] Stay behind me and do not argue. [ Pulling her gun out as she moves to the door. ]

[ No, it's a good thing. He'd rather she risk the loud noises than risk her blood running everywhere. It's half the reason he lets his hand fall onto the gun she's placed on his leg, lets his hand loosely clasp it as his fingers curl slowly around the grip. He'll be holding it properly by the time he stands up to follow her, he's just taking a little while to actually get there.

His eyes are a little watery, residual effect of having squeezed them so tightly against the sound (totally that, not at all due to pain), but they're mostly clear. No obvious signs of a concussion, or anything of the sort. Just of having been recently overwhelmed, perhaps more than once, and of exhaustion and residual pain and wanting to leave now. Nothing in particular to worry about. He'll be able to question her a little further about that wound she just tied up once they're safe and out of here - he's probably going to want to look at it himself, despite knowing very little about what to do after that point. Mostly he's probably going to sleep, because the longer he tries to stay functional in this state the more likely he is to become lost in his senses after the immediate danger is passed. Not that that isn't already a high likelihood. He avoided it last time; he'd be insanely lucky to avoid it this time as well.

Her efforts don't go unnoticed either though, as he appears a little more aware of himself, immediately, and shifts to stand a little more readily than he would have without her help. He doesn't argue though, because he doesn't have the energy right now; just checks over the weapon very quickly and moves after her. ]

[ Yeah, well, she's a great deal more careful of whether he's okay than she is of whether she's okay, always, and she's got enough faith in her own ability to think she'll be fine.

There is a momentary sigh of relief at the realization that he's doing all right, for the situation. Not great, but then neither of them could be considered to be doing great right now. Just as good as possible, and it looks like nothing is wrong with him that she wasn't already well aware of. At the door she pauses, and then drops all her shields and spreads herself out through the building, searching for where the few others are. She's positive they're missing three, and indeed there they are, guarding exits. ] We'll be out of here in no time. [ Brushing against his mind to leave open what she'd found for him to see as she sets off down the hall, still doing a standard sweep check constantly.

Just in case she's missed anything, or there's someone here who could shield against her. She's not going to take risks now, not when they're so close to safety. ]

[ He appreciates her keeping him in the loop even when there's not really a whole lot he's going to be able to do about it. He's categorically not going to fire the gun in his hands unless she's in immediate danger, and he's more or less running on instincts right now. If his instincts just say follow the Guide, well, then that makes things pretty straightforward.

The pair of them - were he thinking about it at all - make a pretty amusing escape team. He's almost positive at least one of them is limping based on the faint echo of their footsteps back to him, although he's not sure which one of them it is, precisely. He's extending himself as far as he can, more immediately, backing up her own sweeps within the surrounding area because there's only so much one can do to mask their breathing, their heartbeat, the shift scrape of their boots on the floor. He can't sweep nearly as far out as she can, but he should - hopefully - be able to at least help prevent them from being surprised around a corner.

[ The gun isn't the best solution towards him having some form of protection, but it's the best one available. And yeah, they're a mildly ridiculous escape team at the moment, battered and bruised and moving with approximately zero grace or finesse. She can summon it again if she needs it, but right now she's just focusing on getting from point a to point b, killing a couple guards, and leaving.

The leaving part's the important part, definitely. She's much more interested in the leaving part than anything else. And between them, if they don't have advance warning of someone coming it's going to be someone with one hell of a lot of skill in moving silently and keeping themselves shielded against empathy, and they're probably fucked then anyways.

She pauses as she passes the door to what looks like a lab, glances inside and considers for a moment but keeps going. SHIELD can handle the taking out information part. She's not in that business anymore. When they reach the intersection into the hallway that leads to what she assumes has to be a door out, she turns to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, presses him towards the wall with a gesture from her other hand that indicates very strongly 'stay there.' ]

[ He's not pleased with her direction there, coming to rest against the wall after a small amount of refusal to initially do so. The look he gives her is says as much, as well as his attitude towards staying here should she be too far away or if he realizes something's happened. He's not in the greatest of states right now, but he's not useless, and even if he were, he'd still have some strong feelings about her taking on all the danger.

So he's not pleased, and he's sort of giving her a look that's sort of a glare but sort of not from behind swollen, red, pained eyes, but that doesn't mean he's not going to do as she asks. When things were reversed, he did something similar to hear, and he recognizes the mentality, the need to know the other is safe before the attempt to move forward can even take place. So after the look, he nods once. Stays put. Waits for her. ]

[ She shakes her head at his look, insistent. He's not useless, but putting him in the middle of a fight he doesn't actually need to be in is only going to make things worse on him. She can handle it, and therefore she should, because if she can spare him anything she's going to do her best to. For a moment she does hesitate, but it's only long enough to lean forward and kiss him, heated and insistent, pressing him further against the wall with the force of it before she pulls away and double checks her gun.

A thumbs up to him and she's gone the next moment, one glance out to determine that she's right and it is an exit, verify the location of the two guards, and then she's running. They react far too late, one still pulling his gun when she sweeps his legs out from under him, the other bringing it to bear as he opens his mouth to shout when she brings her hand up to jab it flat and level into his throat. A back kick into the head of the first one trying to get up and she's free to level her attention on the second, knee to his stomach and then his head against the wall with enough force to knock him out. A moment to breathe and then she nods and reaches out to brush against Tony's mind, let him know that he's clear to move now.

Just the door left now, and she puts her hand on the handle, tests it. It's not even locked from the inside. Just a little further and they're clear. ]

[ It's so rude how people use that sort of tactic to distract him. Ruder after they do it when they realize there's a modicum of effectiveness to it. Not that he thinks that was all tactic, right there, because he's pretty sure he can taste mild desperation when it's so intimately tangible, but still. He stays put almost as much out of selfishness as he does because she's asked him to, a simple nod back to her thumbs up and then keeping himself as open to her as he feels is even moderately safe to do right now.

That doesn't extend fully to keeping his senses as extended as they were just a few moments ago, and when she leaves he takes the opportunity to dampen them a little, letting her awareness be enough for the moment. He moves instantly when she gives him the all-clear, surveying her handiwork as he comes over, but paying more attention to the immediate area than anything else. ]

[ It is less about the distraction and more about the mild desperation. Not true desperation because she's confident, now, in her ability to get them out of there, but she could taste his blood on his lips and she'd been able to feel him for quite a while and she just wanted him safe, that was all. She needed him safe, now. Sooner if possible. This had already been far too long to go with him in danger and she was terribly done with it.

She glances at him when he comes over, waits until he's covering her back before she slips the door open and moves out, covering the angles with her gun as well as possible. She trusts him to keep an eye on her six.

And okay, a parking lot is pretty doable. She's got lots of experience with wiring cars, that won't take her long at all. She just needs to find one whose alarm won't go off, because she doesn't want to alert anyone else to their escape unless necessary. But that won't take long at all, and hey, that one looks like a good choice. She gestures at it, moves forward and sweeps the hiding places that she passes. No chances being taken right now. ]

[ He can do that. It's really his only job right now, aside from simply staying upright, and while his survival instincts tend to suck in certain situations, in the immediate sense of things they're usually pretty good. He doesn't see anyone right now, doesn't sense anyone coming, and for the moment things are simply hyper clear, very distinct. Nothing's hit unmanageable levels just yet, everything's still okay.

It's still easy to follow her though, reaching the side of the car and falling against it with a little more force than he meant to - which is really just to say that he falls against it, because it's not like he'd intentionally decided to run his shoulder into the side of the car. The both of them can probably wire a car, although she can almost certainly do it faster and his hands might not be steady enough right now. So he'll just keep an eye out, scanning the parking lot while she works. ]

[ So long as he stays upright and they make it out of here, she's pretty cool with it. It'll work great, okay.

And ha, okay, there goes the engine and she pushes open the passenger door, pushes the gear out of park so she's read as soon as he's in. ] Come on, let's blow this place. [ And a moment to wistfully wish that she could do that literally. She's very good at explosions and she doesn't like these people. ]

[ He climbs into the seat, maneuvering himself quickly but gingerly, because new contacts and new smells and new everything on top of bruises and whatever else. But he's in the car shortly, pulling the door shut and leaving the hand with the gun resting on the edge of it should he need to do any clearing while they're driving out of her. ]

[ She peels out as soon as he's safely in, noting the gun with a pleased nod. Yes, good, it's for the best that they all continue to maintain a high level of security. Though she's going to want to stop as soon as they can borrow a cellphone or phone of any kind, because there's no way she's letting these people pack up and leave before SHIELD can go in and handle them. So long as SHIELD's not the kind to ask too many questions about people killed in self defense, at least. She feels like they probably aren't. ]

Are you doing okay?

[ His hand is shaking, just a little, which is why he's let his arm rest on the ledge by the window. He's holding himself together just enough to put his efforts into his sight, try and dampen all the smells, all the sounds. Tries to ensure that he can do as much for her as she's done for him. ]

M'fine.

That's bullshit.

[ Fine is definitely bullshit right now, unless stuck in the absolute most relative of terms, if for no other reason than that she can still see his blood every time she glances out of the corner of her eyes. She's doing that a lot, peripheral vision not quite enough to reassure her that he's definitely there and alive. ] Do you want a hospital? [ Because she has about zero intention of hitting any hospitals up for her own stuff, but she'll stick around one with him if he wants it. ]

Well then don't ask m- [ God, it's loud. Fuck. ] Me stupid questions.

[ He wants her to stop glancing at him but he knows that's dumb. What he just said to her was dumb, but he's feeling prickly and raw and even though it feels like he can actually feel her eyes on him he knows that he can't. That's not how this works.

It doesn't, apparently, improve his mood though, even knowing that. ] Like that one.

[ She rolls her eyes at that because her question wasn't dumb, she just wanted to make sure that he wasn't about to pass out. There's a difference between okay and fine. But his irritation in general is pretty understandable, given precisely how on edge they've both had to be. ]

Like what one? [ Did she miss something? She's trying not to miss things, but he's got a lot better vision than her as a general rule. ]

[ He was referring to the question about whether or not he wanted to go to a hospital. When has he ever wanted to go to a hospital? He went to one last time this happened but it was because he got shot in the shoulder - he's totally not been shot in the shoulder yet this go around.

But he can't explain all of that right now, so he just shakes his head a little bit. ] Nothing, we're good, keep going. Is there a phone in here? We need to - to let somebody know. About things.

you see why i shouldn't hang out with my Ex?

shaking my head at you with great love

it was a bad pun wasn't it

the best sort

aww yeah

<3

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