Kate has died.
(head down, don’t show it). the news flit in her ears, eyes low as she nods, voice low as she says ❜ i understand ❜. (head down, don’t show it). the woman in front of her, KATE’S OLDER SISTER, rails at her, voice cracked and heavy with emotion; claire feels for her, it always hurts to lose a sibling. ❜ i’m sorry ❜ she says at the funeral, knowing that to the woman it won’t mean much. (head down, don’t show it). back at her apartment how many days have passed between her learning of her protege’s demise and the funeral she was just at ( wait, how long ago was the funeral? ); how many days of her not having kate walk into her apartment like she owned it have passed? she stares at the floor (head down, don’t show it). her tears threaten to fall but she hasn’t let them fall once in the weeks ( months ) that passed and she feels that if she lets them fall now, lets herself come undone, she will never be able to put herself together again. (head down, don’t show it. head down, don’t show it. head down, don’t show it).
her eyes stay facing the ground for hours ( days weeks ) before she gets the urge to get up again. lucky has been taken in by simone; claire asked her to since kate since before. movement is slow, much slower than it’s ever been. her grief wraps around her like a shield; only once before has claire ever been like this ( head down, don’t show it;; she repeated those words every day after barney ) and it is not a good sign. her slow, even steps take her up to her loft, to where she hides her weaponry. her hands; COLD, CLAMMY ( the hands of death, many have said ) reach for her bow, reach for the quiver. slowly, she carries them to the bathroom. undresses, bathes. her anger is even, her disappointment at the world evident in her cold blue eyes.
her apartment goes up in flames. hawkeye, the avenger, is dead. (just like kate bishop, the next hawkeye, the girl who claire had cared for). hawkeye, the mercenary; the cataclysmic; the wrathful, is not. she’s out for blood, everyone who had a hand in kate’s death will suffer. she’s been angry like this; cold, even anger that seeps deep into her bones and claws dug deep into her chest. she’s been angry like this and it will not leave until she had RIPPED the sadness from her chest, ripped the ANGER and the FEAR and the GRIEF from inside her and put it to good use.
claire barton does not mourn, she gets even at life for hurting her.
// tell claire someone died // always accepting
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