( A large part of Clint wants to stay seated simply because the captain wanted him to follow. After being controlled, every suggestion feels like an order, and every part of him revels in his ability to say "no." But he has to shake off that urge, and deal with this in the way a practical man would. Because he may have been compromised, but he's still an agent, still a man who knows how to get a job done. So he slings his bow over his shoulder and follows the captain out of the shawarma shop.
He lets Rogers deal with talking to the soldiers--that's his department, isn't it?--and instead surveys the scene around him. It's a mess, to be sure. Broken buildings, piles of rubble, the corpses of their alien assailants. His face scrunches as he turns in a circle, taking it all in. His hawk's eyes don't miss a thing.
So it's not long before he finds a spot that suits him, and picks up one of the alien bodies, throwing it with little care onto an army-issue truck. Something to do. This, he can deal with. )
no subject
He lets Rogers deal with talking to the soldiers--that's his department, isn't it?--and instead surveys the scene around him. It's a mess, to be sure. Broken buildings, piles of rubble, the corpses of their alien assailants. His face scrunches as he turns in a circle, taking it all in. His hawk's eyes don't miss a thing.
So it's not long before he finds a spot that suits him, and picks up one of the alien bodies, throwing it with little care onto an army-issue truck. Something to do. This, he can deal with. )