Who's still here? Sound off.
"And that's the tragic spot where my favorite hotdog vendor burned down," Clint says, pointing to the corner across the street from where the group waits. "Real bad day. Haven't found someone with the right mustard to sauerkraut ratio ever since."
Matt raises an eyebrow. "You know, you could put your toppings on yourself."
Frank snorts through his nose and shakes his head. "He's an Avenger. It's his civic right to get everything done for him, right?"
Clint leans forward to make direct eye contact with Frank. "Fuck off."
"Whoa," Frank warns, using both hands to gently covers Leslie's ears. "Watch the language. There's a kid here."
Leslie smiles faintly and shakes Frank's hands away, causing Frank to laugh lightly and pull her under his arm. There's no fear in Leslie's heartbeat and Matt's grateful for that. Every other time they've been out and about, she's always been close to a panic attack or an emotional breakdown. Matt guesses it's the combination of himself, Clint, and Frank keeping her distracted and Frank and Clint's constant physical contact. Despite the distraction, Matt still feels Leslie glance over for him or occasionally bump her hand with his, possibly to ensure he's still there. Matt makes sure to keep close by no matter who she's with at the moment.
Despite the relaxed atmosphere, Matt's senses are pushed to their max and he notes how Frank and Clint keep their heads on rotate. They're all in the loop about what happened to Leslie and what's currently going on in that area. Everyone's a bit on edge, especially since no one is armed per Claire and Matt's request, but no one shows it for Leslie's sake.
"How much farther, Red?" Frank says, nudging the group forward as the walk signal flicks on. "I'm getting tired of listening to Arrow Boy's garbage stories."
Clint scoffs folds his arms behind his head. "Those stories aren't garbage," he says. "I have garbage stories. Both the kind where I end up in the garbage, AND the ones I only tell when I'm shitfaced drunk."
Frank tilts his head and releases an amused snort. "That's a sight I'd like to see," he says. "We have to go drinking together sometime."
"That isn't going to happen."
Matt laughs and shakes his head, using his cane to 'feel' his way across the street and onto the other sidewalk. He tosses a direction into the mix of playful arguing conversation happening in front of him. He's also very glad that Claire left a few minutes ahead of them to prepare a room for them so they'd have no trouble when they get there. Claire said that since the bleeding seems slow, all they'd need to do is take a scan to see the extent of the possible damage. Some internal bleeds heal on their own if they're small enough, but it'll be problematic if it turns out to be a large bleed.
"Red," Frank calls, pulling Matt from the near spiral his thoughts were on. "Look sharp, we're almost there."
Matt straightens and nods, reaching his hand forward and accepting Leslie's when she offers it. "Alright. We all know the plan, right?"
"You two go in first," Clint says through a yawn. "Then I come in. Then the Punisher somehow gets in however he does."
"Good," Matt says. "See ya inside."
The group breaks off in three directions, Clint to the left and Frank to the right as Matt leads Leslie to the hospital in front of them. He doesn't draw any attention to himself or Leslie until they reach the nurse's station and asks for Claire. He's told to wait and take a seat and says that Claire just checked in and needs to do a few things before they're seen. Matt agrees and leads Leslie to a couple of chairs in the back of the room facing the TV. Leslie is immediately entranced, probably because of how long it's been since she's seen one, and settles in easily.
Matt, on the other hand, tunes out the TV and focuses on the car parked near the back of the parking lot. He didn't pay it too much attention when they first arrived, but since he's had a chance to settle, he realized they were speaking Russian. Not a big deal. Plenty of people speak Russian in New York and a lot of people have people in the hospital, right? It is summer after all. People get antsy after all, especially in the summer.
But then he picks up on the fast food bags, empty snack containers and bags, and plastic bottles full of urine and gets set on edge. They've been in the parking lot for a while. And now they're on the phone.
Matt's stomach starts to drop, but he doesn't have a chance to follow the thought process before Claire calls him up. Leslie looks over as Matt swallows thickly. He manages to keep the worry off his face and offers her a smile before rising and guiding her up with him, using his cane to get them over to Claire. They're led down the hall and into a room before Claire closes the door and guides Leslie to the bed.
"Sorry for the wait," she says. "It got crazy for a second and I had a bunch of paperwork to fill out. Plus getting the room set up and everything. Where's the other two?"
"On the way," Matt explains, releasing Leslie as she half hobbles, half scampers onto the bed. "Can you do me a favor and send a text for me?"
Claire scoffs in mock annoyance and folds her arms over her chest. "Do I have to do everything around here?" she asks. Then nods and moves her arm to slide her phone from her pocket. "Who do I need to text and what do you want it to say?"
Matt hums thoughtfully and clears his throat, stepping close to Claire and leaning in so only she can hear his whispers. "Tell Clint and Frank to be on alert" he says. "Don't freak Leslie out, but be prepared just in case."
Claire's heart rate picks up at the warning as Matt presses his phone into her hands, then nods once before turning and smiling at Leslie. "I'm going to need to do an ultrasound on you, ok sweetie?" she says. Leslie tenses and her heart rate jumps as well. Matt can only assume she made a face because Claire shakes her head rapidly. "No worry about being pregnant or anything," she assures. "We just wanna make sure everything's healing properly. Take a few pictures of your insides. Is that alright?"
Leslie looks between Matt and Claire for a moment, lingering on Matt for a moment too long as if waiting for him to say something. He takes the hint and moves to the side of her bed, taking a seat on the edge and placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "It's aright," he says with a smile. "Nothing's going to hurt you."
Leslie inhales deeply, then nods in agreement and sinks back into the pillows. Claire returns the nod. "I'll be right back with everything," she says. "I just need to grab the ultrasound and-"
The door opens slowly and Clint pokes his head in, waving a hand lazily as he slides in and closes the door again. "Yo,' he greets. "What's going on?"
"Nothing much," Claire says, unlocking Matt's phone and typing something out. "Where's the killer?"
She offers the phone to Clint, who accepts hesitantly and pauses to read it. Like everyone before him, Clint's heart rate spikes and his attention snaps to Matt, who lifts his chin pointedly in an unspoken warning. Clint clears his throat and nods, then passes the phone back and makes his way deeper inside. "He's probably on the way," he answers. "You know how he works. Always on his own time."
"That's inconvenient," Claire says, pressing one more button before pocketing Matt's phone. "But I guess it's safer like that. I'll be right back."
"Or just rude," Clint chimes as Claire leaves, taking his own seat by the window and glancing out the blinds. "He does seem like the type who makes himself late just to piss people off."
Matt laughs lightly and shakes his head. "Frank's a lot of things," he says. "One of those things being very punctual.'
Clint grunts and folds his arms over his chest. "Whatever."
The two, occasionally three when Leslie decides to talk, converse idlily as they wait, but Leslie mostly keeps her attention on the TV overhead. Matt can't tell what's happening on the screen, but he assumes it's some kids show or cartoon by the happy voices and sound effects going on. Every once in a while, the conversation lags and Matt lets his focus go.
Frank is carefully making his way in the hospital through a service entrance. A nurse a couple floors above them is taking a spinal tap from a soccer player. A baby is being born on the other end of the building.
The Russians are still outside, this time with another car with two more people beside them. They're talking amongst themselves and the first driver flashes a piece of paper to the other two. Matt's stomach tightens.
Claire returns with the ultrasound machine and Clint straightens rapidly, his sudden movements causing Leslie to jump and Matt to place a hand on her shoulder to calm her. "Sorry for the disturbance," she says, her tone bordering confused as she looks around the room. "We're ready."
Leslie is still nervous and swallows thickly, passing one more look to Matt before nodding and lying down. Matt squeezes her shoulder once more and moves to let Claire take his place.
"Frank's in," he announces as Claire goes through the explanation of everything with Leslie. "He's on his way over. Don't get scared when he comes in."
"Alright," Claire says over her shoulder, then shows Leslie a bottle of gel. "This is probably going to be the worst part. It's very cold."
A few seconds later, as Claire is starting the ultrasound process, Frank opens the door and slips inside. "Sorry I'm late," he grumbles. "Security's a bitch here."
"Don't worry about it," Matt says. "We're not in any rush."
"Yeah, I would assume not," Frank says pointedly. "Can I talk to you for a second, Red?" Leslie tenses at the tone and Frank's head turns in her direction. "Don't worry about it, kid," he says, his tone a lot less hostile than it was a few seconds ago. "Just wanna talk money. Food and shit. Him letting me stay the night."
Clint straightens quickly. "Wait, we have to pay for that?"
"I should start charging more," Matt grumbles, sending one more smile in Leslie's direction as he makes his way to Frank and follows him out into the hallway. Then down the hall to the empty men's bathroom. "I know what you're going to say."
"You're damn right you know what I'm about to say," Frank growls. "Get on alert? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means I hear people speaking Russian outside," Matt says, retuning his hearing to the conversation outside. Two more SUVs full of Russians add themselves to the mix, the new arrivals now armed and talking rapidly around a piece of paper in the back of one of the trucks. "They're armed now," Matt informs carefully. "I think they're planning on making entry."
Frank's breathing slows but his heart picks up. He's preparing for a fight. "You think they made Leslie?"
"More than likely," Matt admits. "It seems like they've been outside for a while. They must've had people waiting here since Leslie was taken. Waiting for the moment someone brought her in."
"Yeah," Frank says slowly. "What're we doing then, Red? Leslie's bound to find out now. We can't keep her in the dark for too much longer. What's the plan?"
Matt chews the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. What is the plan? He doesn't have one. His plan was to get Leslie taken care of and then go get ice cream. He should have seen this coming. Leslie has said multiple times that she didn't want to come to the hospital, probably for this exact reason. How could he have been this stupid?
"Red," Frank snaps. "I need you to focus up. Leslie and a whole lot of people are in trouble if we don't come up with something right now."
Right. Stay focused.
Matt shakes his head and exhales slowly. "We need to get Leslie out of here," he starts. "Back door-"
"Guards," Frank counters. "They'll ask questions. File reports. Hold us up."
"Fine, we'll go out through the general exit."
Frank nods in agreement and shakes his arms out. He's really ready for a fight. "How long do we have until they make entry?"
Matt refocuses his attention again. Two armed men with Russian accents ask about a blonde girl with a possible limp, lying through their teeth about being worried fathers of a runaway and checking all the boxes to find her. Since Matt's blind, he can only assume Leslie's blonde but knows in his heart they're talking about her.
"They're inside," he says quietly. "They're trying to play it off as a lost kid scenario."
Frank swears violently and makes for the door again. Matt calls after him and grabs his shoulder, only for Frank to shake him off violently. "I'm not gonna start shit, Red," he assures. "I'm just going to hurry everything."
"We can't worry Leslie."
Frank whirls and steps so close to Matt their toes touch. "Leslie's gonna be a whole lot more than worried if one of those nurses talk," he reminds viciously. "We need to get her out and we need to do it fast, and we need to hope that your nurse friend made it clear that no one is to talk about her. So unless you have a better plan, we need to move."
Frank's right. Matt knows it. He can't argue with it. He Chews his lip another second before sighing in defeat and motioning for Frank to move. Frank doesn't waste any more time before turning and heading out, leaving Matt to practically jog after him to keep up as he storms back to the room.
Leslie is wiping the ultrasound gel from her stomach when Frank and Matt re-enter and Frank is down to business as soon as the door shuts again. "The Russians are here," he states, causing Clint to jump to attention, Claire to tense, and Leslie to freeze. "Two of them are inside the building asking about Leslie."
"They're starting to surround the building," Matt announces, listening outside as the men in the SUV start fanning out and taking cover in places a few yards away from the entrances. "I'm assuming they're going to start forcing their way in if they don't get the answers they want from the nurses."
Claire snaps out of her tense and pushes the machine away without a care to make her way over to Matt. "The nurse already know to keep quiet about everything about Leslie," she assures. "I made sure to tell them she's not to be seen by anyone who she didn't come in with."
"Thank you, Claire."
"We need to move now," Frank says. "I can keep them busy while you all get Leslie away from here."
"Where?" Clint asks. "We don't have a car and I doubt Leslie can run on that leg."
"We'll st-borrow a car from the parking garage," Frank answers. "You know how to hotwire, yeah? Go get one ready and call when we can come down."
"Sounds good to me."
Matt wants to argue about the car theft, but his attention is forced away when he picks up on the faint traces of salt in the air. Leslie is having a silent panic attack. Heart racing. Breathing labored. Crying without sound. Paralyzed with fear. He swears bitterly and peels away from the group as Clint slips out the room.
"Leslie," he whispers when he reaches the bed, putting a gentle hand on her knee with one hand as the other brushes the hair from her face. "Hey. Leslie. Honey. Come back. Everything is alright. You're going to be fine."
Her head turns to him robotically, but he doesn't get an answer beyond that.
"It's going to be alright," he promises again. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
"Red's right," Frank says, appearing on the other side of the bed and kneeling to Leslie's line of sight. "They'll have to get through me, and him, and the Avenger before they can get to you. Trust me, I'm not someone you can get through."
Matt forces a laugh. "As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Frank's tough. He's probably enough to protect you on his own."
"Damn right I am."
"It's going to be alright, Leslie," Matt says once more. "I promise."
It takes a moment for anything to happen and then slowly, very slowly, Leslie nods her head. Matt and Frank mimic the action and Matt leans in to kiss her forehead before rising to his full height and turning to Claire. "You should get out of here," he says. "Try to stall as much as you can and tell security to be on the lookout for anyone suspicious. Once you have everything taken care of, text me and we'll get out."
Claire nods and returns Matt's phone, taking a few more deep breaths to steady herself before exiting the room and making her way to the nurse's station. Frank helps Leslie to her feet behind Matt and explains what's going to happen, telling her to stay close and to not stop walking for anything and to keep moving even if he and Matt stop or turn around. He says that if they get seperated, to go to the parking garage and find Clint as soon as she can and to stay with him until they get back. He keeps reiterating the fact that she's going to be alright and that no one is going to hurt her or get her or anything like that.
Leslie continues to nod robotically, but Matt can tell she's gone. She's deep in a panic attack and there's no hope of getting her out of it right now. He wants to hold her and keep her still until her attack passes, but he knows he can't do that. Right now, he needs to be ready to fight. All he can do is take Leslie's hand and squeeze it assuringly as they wait for the go ahead from-
The power stops working and the emergency generator start up. Of course, Matt isn't affected since he can't see anyway, but Leslie tenses harsher and Frank straightens to attention. "Fuck."
Matt turns his attention out, where two of the Russians take out a security guard and slip in the hospital.
"Call Claire," Matt instructs, taking his phone and passing it to Frank. "Tell her to put everything on lockdown. Two more of them just came in. Armed. Ready to fire."
Frank swears again but does as told. "Where are they," Frank asks as the line rings.
"General entry," Matt announces. "Making their way over. They're trying to box us in."
The line connects and Frank barks into the phone, only waiting to hear confirmation before hanging up and opening the door. "We need to move," he says. "Get to the staircase and out to the garage before anymore of the bastards decide to come in."
"Right," Matt says, tightening his hold on Leslie's hand and looking down at her. "You ready?" Leslie nods.
Frank glances down both chaotic ends of the hall before fully exiting and motioning them forward. "I'll take lead," he says. "Red, you stay in the back and keep the kid between us. Keep those magic ears working for us, alright?"
"Right," Matt says, preparing himself for the very real possibility of a coming fight. "Let's go."
SOOOOO for lack of a better explanation for where I've been, I'll sum it up very briefly. 1. Depression. 2. Work. 3. College. 4. General life. 5. Fucking writer's block man. Lack of time. Everything.
BUUT! I've recently caught a hyperfixation onto this universe (and may have a Punisher focused fic coming to AO3 if anyone's interested) and I'm gonna ride this for as long as I can. If all goes well, this story will get finished if I can find a conclusion I find fitting for Leslie and the gang, cause there are many routes I can go with this, whoo boy, y'all don't even know.
Anyway, sorry for the delay. Hope to see ya soon.