om_main | Philip and Clint - 07/21

Summary: Philip shows Clint how he trains. It’s an experience for both of them.

It had taken Philip a little longer than he'd planned to make good on his offer to Clint to show him the DR, with graduation, moving, and the other things that had utterly tied up his time.

He'd finally found the time though and had sent the invitation for a bright and early morning. That had led him to waiting in the control room, fiddling with a few of his scenarios, and making sure that what they'd try out wouldn't get him in trouble.

Not that it would be easy, Philip had shed his normal buttondowns and slacks for tac pants and combat boots, a plain black t-shirt and vest with more pockets than his pants. It was amazing what you could find in Army surplus stores...

Clint, on the other hand, appeared in the doors to the Danger Room, blurry-eyed and in ratty jeans, a worn t-shirt, and sneakers, his hair sticking up in odd places. He was cradling a mug of coffee, and might have been ten minutes late. Okay, eleven.

"You're late," Philip said from his seat at the console. No judgement in his tone, just statement of fact. He swiveled around to look Clint up and down, taking in his very-not awake self. "They've gone over this with you, how it works?"

"Holograms. Powers exercises, blah blah blah. Nothing I can't do outside with a bow," Clint answered, sipping at the coffee.

"You're sure about that?" Philip asked with just a tilt of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "How about a game? Your choice, playing against each other or team up against the bad guys."

"Hmmm. You mean like pretending to be superheroes? Taking down the criminal element in some ghetto in New York?" the younger teen asked.

"Something like that, though less with the pretending to be superheroes. I'm not so much into spandex.” Philip said dryly. “I've been experimenting with just how far I can push the room." Though it was interesting that the first place Clint had gone was superheroes.

Clint's eyebrows lifted. "Push the room?"

"Push the limits of what I can do with it," Philip clarified. "We've had some upgrades to make things feel more real, give us more options, that sort of thing. Setting up scenarios has turned into a bit of a hobby."

"Wow. Some hobby," Clint noted dryly. He set his mug down on the fancy futuristic console overlooking the big empty room, then poked at a display screen. "So what does all this do, anyway?"

"We can set up scenarios, environments, there are a number of different options. Most of the kids with physical abilities come down here to practice as it's significantly easier to blow things up in a controlled environment. A few of the technical geniuses made some upgrades lately so it's much more realistic. For example," Philip hit a few keys with a snap of a wrist and an environment started to appear. "One of my urban assault scenarios. Fully interact-able, holograms allow for realistic environments and robotic enemies on tap. There's an AI for the room that keeps things more or less safe but you can get almost any scenario you can think of."

"So. Like that thing in Stark's workshop. Where it was creating the balls and hoop?" Clint suggested, poking a few more buttons and sliders on the screen.

"Whoa!" Philip said sharply as his hand snapped over to grab Clint's wrist. The grip wouldn't have been a painful one but it was tight, Philip was stronger than he looked. "I'll show you how to do that later if you want but if you mess with my settings too much, I'll need to reset the room and it'll take that much longer before we get in there. Also, for future reference, bring a coaster. If you get coffee rings on Kitty's consoles, she's going to kill you. Or disable your access because it's exactly like what's in Stark's workshop."

Clint's eyebrows went up and he pulled his hand back with a grin. Then he reached for the coffee. "Settings, check. Coaster, check. I'd make a comment about your control issues, but I'm pretty sure you already know about 'em. What are we doing today, then?"

"War games tag unless you object, us against the bots." Philip glanced over at the controls again, confirming that his scenario had been loaded. "Hostile urban environment, evac point at the far end of the room, everything in there will be trying to kill us. Sound like fun?" A little smile was playing at the corner of Philip's mouth, it certainly sounded like fun to him.

The archer just grinned at him, clearly just as excited at the prospect. "Can I get a virtual bow?"

"C'mon," Philip said as he unwound from his chair. "Let's get kitted up and go. You can pick and choose weapons down there." As a matter of fact, Clint would be able to find something to use, Philip hoped. He'd certainly planned for it when he'd very carefully set up the scenario. Clint's love affair with his arrows were no secret at all.

With a last swallow of his coffee, Clint tossed the cup in the trash and followed Philip out the door and down the stairs to the doors of the room itself, looking up and around when they slid open immediately, like parting the way for Phil in deference to his badass. The room was empty at first, but as soon as the doors closed behind them, everything changed.

He stopped in the middle of the alleyway, turning this way and that, staring. Sure, they'd done scenarios with the squad in here before, but it'd never been this detailed. Never this...real. "Whoa."

Philip just grinned and led Clint through the process to arm himself. He'd picked guns himself and a pair of nasty looking knives. This was more a sneaking thing than a scream and leap thing after all. "I set it up," he said quietly, "but the configuration is random so I don't have an advantage. Nothing in here will actually hurt us but a disabling hit will sting like a bitch."

The recurve bow that Clint hauled out of the back of the nearby van was almost identical to the ones they kept in the storage unit at the school's archery range, and he quickly strapped on an armguard and hooked a tube of arrows over a shoulder. "Can I get up high in this thing? You know. Rooftops?"

"Of course," Philip said as he rechecked his own gear, making sure everything was just so. "Just be careful with those shoes. If you want to do this again, we'll go and get you kitted out. You wouldn't believe what you can find in military surplus stores. And don't forget a comm," he said as he fished one out of the box, just a simple earpiece and mike setup, built to take abuse.

Clint tucked the earpiece in place, his grin widening the more he realized how much Philip had put into the scenario. And hell, how much Tony and the others had improved it. "Military surplus, check. I got a job at a garage in town. Small paycheck, but it should do the trick."

Philip just nodded and took a deep breath, flicking his eyes shut for a moment. He let the breath out in a long sigh and let the scenario settle over him, wiping away the nothing-to-see-here persona and slipping the leash on the parts he kept hidden. It wasn't much of a visible change, but he found it much easier to compartmentalize that way, to keep the sides of him separate. "We have a go," he said into his com, the sign to the room AI that they were ready to start.

Clint, for once, didn't say anything. Silently, he hooked the arrow tube into place, then grabbed a knife from the van and tucked it in his belt. For the most part, he knew about putting up a face. He knew how to act like an idiot when everyone expected him to be one, and he knew what he kept beneath.

Beneath the dumb facade, he'd watched Philip. He'd seen the shift, and something in him responded to it, cooling and mimicking the behavior. This may have just been a training session set up to look like a game, but it was still a training session, and Philip was going to take it seriously. Normally, Clint would do the opposite, but he remembered Wanda, and her earnest belief that they had to be responsible with their power, and he knew that if this was going to go well, he had to focus, and he had to show Philip that he wasn't just a fuckup. Give a little. Or something.

"Evac point is a helipad across there," Philip said quietly as he set out. "If either of us get there it's a win, double points if we both make it. Disable hostiles if necessary, more points if we evade. The number will be random." It should have been a little creepy, talking like that, but frankly, the setup was no worse than popular video games, it was just life-sized.

Clint fell into step behind and to one side of the older teen, shadowing him as he raised his bow at the ready. His gaze flicked over the surroundings, trying to pick out which buildings were real objects he could climb on, and which were just for show. There was a slight shimmer to the ones that were just scenery, at least that he could tell. Probably best to steer clear of those.

Stealth wasn't exactly his best quality in the world, though. It was hard not to banter, and a few seconds after surveying the surroundings, he murmured, "You know you're crazy as fuck, right?"

The glance that Philip aimed backwards spoke just volumes. "How, exactly, did you decide that?" Philip murmured back. It didn't stop him from watching their path carefully, including the windows above and around them. It wasn't a hostile question, he was honestly curious. Crazy wasn't a descriptor that was usually applied to him.

Clint was quiet for a moment, having thought he'd spotted movement behind a security fence up ahead. When nothing moved again, he picked up where he left off. "How many hours have you spent setting up programs like this in here?"

"No idea?" Philip said. "I played with it before the upgrades, the bulk of the work was after. It's amazing how much the streetview of Google maps makes for shortcuts. Most of these layouts are based on real places." Mixed up and altered, of course, but at least he wasn't designing the entire thing by hand. That'd be ridiculous... "The purely environmental ones are trickier. I keep having trouble with gound cover in the Amazon scenario. Plus the water problem." He could have been completely serious, he could have been jerking Clint's chain. Who knew? "You good to get over that fence?"

"Pft," Clint answered, giving it a good look. About eight feet, with an extra two feet in barbed wire. Pretty standard. There were some shipping crates nearby, but not much else. "Easy peasy. You?"

"Not probably as easy, but doable," Philip said as he eyed the fence. "There," he said pointing to the nearest fence post. "I should be able to use that as a handhold up top but it'll take me a minute. You want to go first and watch my back?"

"Sure thing, boss," Clint smirked at him, striding forward. He took a good look around, then tucked the bow in close, taking a running step. One foot on the crates, another on the fence post. With the momentum, he vaulted backwards over the wire, landing in a slightly skidded crouch. Yeah. He'd need those combat boots.

He checked himself, the bow, then his surroundings before glancing over his shoulder at Phillip, giving a cheeky thumbs up.

"Impressive," Philip muttered, low enough that it was picked up by the comm instead of being audible across the fence and entirely sincere. He had a slower go of it, climbing the up the chain link before dead-lifting himself up by a grip on the fence post and a bare section of wire. Note to self, gloves were a good plan. Tricky but he managed not to snag himself, landing next to Clint with a muffled grunt.

Clint had to admit that he was beaming a little inside at the compliment, but before he could say anything in reply, he saw a shadow cross the light off to their left, and he gave Philip's arm a tap, jerking his head toward it.

If they'd been seen, the hostile was keeping quiet about it for the moment. And unfortunately, they were in the way of where Philip and Clint needed to go. "Need to get past them," Philip muttered as he looked that way. "Quiet's better, if we're blown it's a flat out run."

Again with the stealth. Clint rolled his eyes a little as he watched the shadow move. He could have probably made an accurate bet on where the guy's head was and just taken the shot, but that kind of thinking put a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't want to be the kind of guy who killed (even in war games) if he didn't have to. That was kind of the shit part about being an archer. It wasn't all that easy to knock someone out with an arrow. He'd been working on some ideas for a couple of trick arrows, but those weren't much more than sketches in a notebook at this point. Besides, this was Phil's play. Philip knew that Clint was better with a bow than in any kind of up-close confrontation. He wanted to see what Clint would come up with.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at his options, then decided to do it dirty. Reaching down, he grabbed an arrow, aimed, and took the shot... shattering the light bulb in the nearby streetlamp. He shot to his feet in the dark, then launched himself at the last place he'd judged his target to be, hauling back with one hand and taking a sharp shot at the guy's midsection, or at least, where he hoped it was.

Good distraction with the light, the execution of the rest needed a little work, but Philip could see the hesitation and had a decent idea as to why. That Clint didn't immediately go for a kill shot, even in a game was both interesting and encouraging. Lucky for them, the kid tagged the guard right in the solar plexus, chopping off the possible shout. Philip was up behind the guard a moment later, wrapping one forearm around his throat and locking it in place with his other hand, counting in his head as the man slowly choked into unconsciousness.

Clint stepped back, his eyes adjusting to the dark as he watched Philip take the guy down with a healthy amount of appreciation. When the man slumped to the ground, he gave the other teen a shrug.

"Good job," Philip said quietly as he shoved the guy out of sight. "That was exactly what I needed."

"Where'd you learn how to do that? With the whole Jason Bourne routine?" Clint asked, eyebrows raised.

Philip was silent for a few seconds, weighing what he could say. "My grandfather. Well, that skill set specifically. My family's a little different." It wasn't much more than he'd told anyone else and his usual evasion was useless after what Clint had seen..

"Yeah. I get that." The different family, anyway. Though, really, the only thing his dad had ever taught him was how to take a hit. The thought darkened his features for a moment before he shook it off, then nodded down the length of the room. "Keep moving?"

Philip nodded and took a second to reorient himself before setting off again. "I can teach you some of it, if you want. I give lessons to other students. And maybe you should show me how you cleared that fence?"

"I've seen you doing the self-defense thing. I don't really care about that so much as how you took that guy down," Clint admitted as he followed. "But yeah, I can show you the fence thing. I had a mentor in the circus who taught me a lot of that stuff."

"If I'm going to do the one, I'll be doing the other," Philip said. "I know some things that are offense and defense at the same time." He eyed Clint up and down for a second. "I think I'm heavier than you, but if you can work with it, I'm game."

Clint snorted proudly, returning his attention the street. "I've taken down bigger guys than you."

I could help you do it better, was what Philip wanted to say, but he knew Clint had his pride. There was no reason to shove his face in it and a lot of reasons not to. "Humor me and we can try it out? I've got plenty of grapples I can show you."

Despite the fact that Clint found himself actually eager to see what he could learn from Philip, what actually came out of his mouth was an indifferent, "Yeah, whatever."

"I'll pencil you in," Philip said dryly as they wove through a few more intersections.

---

Ten minutes later, they were still making their way toward the helipad, and Clint had decided that they must actually be going in circles even if they didn't know it. The room wasn't that big, and for longer missions, it had to have some way of tricking them into thinking it was larger. Mirrors or...something. He'd also decided that Phil was really, really thorough.

After seeing a dark SUV up ahead, idling in a place where one really shouldn't have been, they'd ducked into the overhang of a storefront to confer. "Windows are tinted," Clint noticed, although it was perfectly obvious that they couldn't see how many guys were inside.

"Nothing suspicious about that at all is there?" Philip said dryly. "Sometimes they wave flags, sometimes they don't. The question is, do we crack it open and see what's inside or try to get past?" He edged out to look again and grimaced. "Either way, we need them occupied. Odds are good there's a lot of surveillance going on."

"Time for me to hit the rooftop," Clint decided, noting that the structure behind them was solid. If he could find some handholds, he'd be able to get up on top of it and get a better view of anyone waiting in or around the vehicle. "I can give you the layout, then set up a distraction."

"Sounds like a plan," Philip said. And there was no hedging in the affirmative. Clint said he could do it, Philip would believe that he could until he was shown otherwise. That they were training, that the worst case was just a solid zap if they failed made it easier, but Philip already knew that confidence in a team was a pretty key thing.

Clint took one more look at the SUV, then turned back to the building, feeling around with his hands to test the hologram and see where it was he could get up. There was a fire escape around the corner. Maybe if there were real, retractable steps or something there... but whatever. He grabbed the edge of the stairs and started up, zigg-zagging to the roof. It was only one story up - not that great for a view - but then Clint supposed there wasn't enough room in the gym for a five story building either.

Philip kept half an eye on Clint (where he could) and half an eye on the van. The scenario was programmed for variables, with any luck they'd all stay in there until it was time to move.

Crouching to the edge of the building, Clint was given a much better view of the playing field, and grinned that they were within about forty yards of the helipad. Past the SUV, he could see the glowing circular lights around the craft. Much closer, though, there was movement in the alleyways to either side of the SUV. He couldn't get a feel for how many guys there actually were, but they were supposed to get points for stealth, right? He could only see one way for that to work.

Tapping his comm, he spoke to Philip. "They've got the main road to our target locked down. But if I can make a big enough distraction, I think you can take out the two guys in the east alley. That's where we make our break for it."

"On your mark then," Philip replied. "And please remember, Hawkeye, the goal is for us both to get out in one piece. Please plan your distraction with that in mind. I want to see us both at the goal" He wasn't even sure why he said it, it just seemed... the right sort of thing to say.

That would be tricky. He'd have to get down to the ground to join Philip, and taking the stairs would be slow. It wasn't that far of a drop, but Clint didn't really want another broken leg, either. Not so soon after the first. He chewed on his lip. "Any ideas?"

Philip frowned as he scanned their surroundings. How would... "Have you got a grapple in that quiver of yours?"

Clint snorted softly. "I wish. I've got a few ideas for arrows in my sketchbook. Grapple, stun, explosive...that kind of thing. But I haven't gotten anyone to make 'em yet. These are all just the regular kind." He guessed the Danger Room hadn't created any cool arrows yet either.

"Remind me to fix that before we do this again. If you want to do this again. I'll need to work with you on how they'd work to program them in. Can you make it to another roof?" Way to plan for everything, Coulson, he thought sourly.

Clint judged the distance to the next building, brow crinkling in thought. He could make it, he thought, as long as it was solid and not another hologram. But he didn't see the tell-tale static-blip there, and figured there must be another catwalk over there somehow. "Let's go with 'yeah.'"

"Then that's your escape route. Got any ideas on how you're going to distract them?" He really needed to spend time with Clint and possibly Tony on the arsenal, Philip thought again. Not that he didn't think Clint would have the drive to figure it out himself, collaboration, knowing capacities was always a good thing.

"Kind of wishing I had an exploding arrow right about now," Clint told him, apparently thinking the same thing as Philip. He scanned the SUV, then the area around it, frowning. The arrows in his tube would bounce right off of most things around them. He chewed his lower lip, then blinked, reminding himself that he didn't actually have to puncture anything to create a big distraction. Smiling to himself, he tapped his comm. "Got it. You'll know the distraction when it goes off. I'll meet you in the alley."

"Ready to go when you are," Philip replied. "And we'll work on those explosions. I'll see you on the other side of them." Two targets, he thought, tasing at least one was probably his best bet.

What followed wasn't exactly the sort of explosion one would expect, but the street did erupt in sound and light. As fast as he could load an arrow and fire, Clint tagged each of the expensive vehicles up and down the street around them, setting off as many car alarms as he could as the objects slammed against their sides and bounced away again. Then he shouldered the bow and swung over the side of the building, attempting to find as many clumsy handholds as he could to get himself to the ground. Grappling hook arrow. Definitely need one of those too.

Philip was moving as soon as the alarms started going off, darting into the alley where the two guards were distracted. The scuffle was a brief one, a taser jabbed in one guard's ribs was followed by a punch to the solar plexus for the other, enough to get them down and gasping, unable to yell for help while Philip sprinted away.

Clint sprinted up beside him at the same time, but even in the darkness of the alley, it was easy to make out that he was limping. Or at least, throwing his weight forward more with one leg, then giving himself an easy step with the other. "Knew you could take 'em."

"Thanks. You okay?" Philip didn't miss that limp for a second, but he needed to check in before offering any help. The goal was almost there but they couldn't get sloppy and he wouldn't put it past the room to throw them one last nasty curveball. "That was good thinking, setting off the alarms. It'd have drawn civilian attention too, made it harder for them to keep track of us."

"Ohh, sure. No big deal," Clint answered, grimacing a little on the next stride. "Luck turned. That's all. Bad leg didn't hold up that well against an imaginary building."

"Need a shoulder or are you good?" 'Bad leg' didn't seem like something that sounded good, Philip thought. "I'll give you a hand down to the infirmary when we're done too, if you want."

Damnit, Coulson, why didn't you ask before they'd started, he thought. That's basic and you blew it.

Clint snorted. "We're within twenty yards of the helipad. Let's do this."

"Come on then," Philip said as he let a seldom-seen grin peek out. "Just don't get sloppy."

Clint was surprised when they made it to the Endgame without another incident, but his leg was thanking him for that fact, and as soon as the scenario disappeared and the box of a room showed up again, he flopped to the floor with a groan. "Okay, that's fucking awesome, but a hell of a workout."

"Kind of the point," Philip said as he settled on the floor near Clint. He started stretching out slowly, bleeding off tension with each controlled movement. "It's definitely more interesting than running it alone."

Clint pulled himself up to sit, but drew his injured leg in to push up his jeans and check out the swelling. "Well, count me in. I just need the right gear."

"Tony and Kitty should be able to help with some of that. We'll see what we can get in here to make it work. How's the leg?" Philip asked as he twisted to look at Clint. Helpfully, things started popping as he did.

Clint pulled his shoe off before it could get stuck, making a small face at the rate of the swelling. "It's not broken again, right? Didn't feel broken."

"You were walking so hopefully not." Philip got to his feet and held out a hand. "Come on, I'll give you a shoulder up to the infirmary. I'll take the heat for it if we made it worse."

Clint grasped his hand and helped haul himself up, throwing an arm over Philip's shoulders. "Swell. You gonna buy me an ice cream too?"

"Sure," Philip said dryly. "And I'll get one for myself as a reward for carting your heavy ass around." It was an exaggeration, of course, but they did make an awkward little parade as they headed out.