Nomad | Hawkeye FF ✓

THIS IS A WOMAN'S JOB

    And now that it had occurred to them, why did Clint need all of them here with him just to go to Sophie's quarters? The situation wasn't that dire, not as if she were on the streets. There, at least they'd understand why he'd call for their help. The streets held thousands,  millions of people, and the search would turn into a needle in a haystack. 

    Among those interesting, yet, equally frustrating conundrums hanging in the air between Hawkeye's team troubled about his unusual behavior, they hoped Sophie was alright, that is, for his sake. 

    And hope was in short supply these days.

    In the fast pumping of his heart, and overwhelming swell of his anxiety—mind racing from everywhere, and not fully focused on the present—Clint managed to catch something dark, and small on the ground. Further tilting his head towards the floor, he found a black Apple iPhone laying on its backside, as if someone carelessly threw the device down in a hurry and left it there.

    He bent down to retrieve the item, scrutinizing it in his hands. All of a sudden, recognition hit him like a ton of bricks. "Is that—"

    "Sophie's phone? Yes, yes it is, Cap," he responded slowly, as if trying to rid his own shock and ignore the escalation of his fear. He needed to stay calm and not slip up, and by doing so, he needn't regard the worst possible scenarios. One thing individuals tended to do most of all is panic, instead of plan your way out or through the danger.  

    "Well I guess that answers the question as to why she wasn't picking up," Natasha commented. Clint had figured as much, too. He stuffed Sophie's phone in his back pocket, seconds before the familiar ding of the elevator altered them of their appointed stop.

    In unison, they all walked out and headed straight for her small apartment. It wasn't long till they were all piled outside her doorway. Clint stepped forward and quickly rapped on the door.

    "Sophie?" he paused, head angled downward, his ear to the cold metal as he listened for any noise on the other side. "Sophie, are you in there?" Nothing. He knocked again (more like banged on the steel) and tried the door handle, but it was locked. This was when Thor decided to pipe up.

    "Don't suppose any one of you have a key to get in?"

    "If we did, do you think we'd have used that first?" Tony answered, and raised his eyebrows at the man's ridiculous question.

    "Well then, who wants to break down the door?"

    They all looked at Banner, their strongest Avenger more than capable of tearing down a single door. Probably ripping down more than the door with him too. 

    Banner's eyes widened and he began to stutter out, "N-no. I'm not letting the big guy out just for one petty thing. You do it Thor," he said, and quickly pointed his finger at the Asgardian.

    "I don't have my hammer."

    "Well then call it—"

    "Nooo," Tony drawled, face paling. "Do not give him that suggestion. The building will be ruined. Just last month I had to repair something." 

    "You mean you had to pay for someone to come in, and repair it for you?" Steve interjected, and being amused with this argument, raised a blond eyebrow as he smirked in Iron Man's direction.

    "Whatever..." he muttered. "Still counts."

    "Are you people done?" All their heads swiveled to Clint, his hand still on the door handle. A guilty stillness settled over them, quietening them all at the same time.