Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	Clint had been the go-between for Mon-El and SHIELD since the Daxamite had asked for SHEILD's help in getting his memories back. Heck, at this point, he'd even delayed his vacation to make sure the guy had a familiar face while SHEILD's docs, unscrambled his brain. It was going to be some high-level unscrambling too, the process was both delicate and secret, so much the first that the equipment couldn't be moved easily from their private research lab at Sunnydale Hospital (why there? Would /you/ want to sneak around anywhere in Sunnydale? Didn't think so) and so much the second that Fury himself had to sign off on it and more than that, was there first hand to see it done. Clint, with his Level 7 clearance hadn't been read into the thing, but he got whatever it is the good doctors were doing, was some crazy shit, thins he probably didn't want to know about. That said, he didn't let that, show and he like always, seemed to be at ease leaning against the wall next to the surgical theatre, sighing, "Hope this works, Lar's a nice kid."
Nick Fury	Maneuvering into the room was none other than Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. The smell of cigar smoke still clung to him, even though he was not ccurrently smoking one. A particularly...strong willed nurse told him, in no uncertain terms, to get rid of his stoogie. So he did. He was being nice today.     Nick Fury is in a relaxed position. His right hand resting on the grip of his holstered weapon. His right behind his back. His eye looks at the man on the bed, and then finds Clint standing across from him as he leans against the wall. With a sigh, Fury nods, and says, "Yeah. A nice kid who can level a planet without breakin' a sweat, Barton. I sure hope this wasn't a mistake."
Mon-El	Well, Fury sure doesn't mince the facts. It's true...really, does -anything- make Lar break a sweat? Does anything make -Superman- break a sweat? Well, other than Lois Lane maybe?     At any rate, Lar is sitting on the bed that has been prepared, with all the equipment around him. It's definitely an extensive setup. And in his hand is a 5 milliter tube full of the concoction that has been designed to temporarily counteract the serum that protects him from lead poisoning and therefore makes him as powerful as a Kryptonian--perhaps even more so. Honestly, everyone is nervous about this, so how could he not be? But he knows he needs to do this, before he can talk himself out of it. Drake had already tried, and might have come closer to succeeding than the Daxamite is willing to admit out loud. He exhales sharply and holds the tube up, staring at it for a moment. "Hokay...here goes nothing I guess." Point of no return. Without brooding over it for too much longer, he downs the thing in one go...     Almost immediately, the pain starts, cutting at his sides like a thousand knives. He knew...it would hurt. But still, it was far from pleasant. Slumping back against the berth, his face turning pale already. "Um..." he begin weakly. "One more thing I should mention...m-maybe you should restrain me, you know...j-just in case..."
Clint Barton	Clint nods, pushing off the wall. "I hear you, I asked the docs if we could move this business to the middle of Death Valley, or somewhere nice and remote, but no go, something about the machinery, I tuned out after they said no," Clint explains. "Though we've evacuated, the wing, he's doesed with something that weakens him /and/ makes the lead in the air toxic to him, and oh," he reaches into his coat and pulls out an ICER and hands it to Fury butt first, "New version of the ICER round for today, mixes in some of the stuff that makes Lar weak, they say, it /should/ work, but just in case boss, I'd be looking to use it in a fighting retreat more than a frontal assault," he says. Clint's bow and arrows were leaning against the wall, he'd been kitted out with similar gear, arrows to weaken Lar further, some putty arrows with stronger tensile strength and one last arrow he didn't want to think about, all antidote and powered lead. With luck, he could destroy it at the end of the day. As the process begins, the doctors are focused on their work, and the nurses, do as Mon-El asks, snapping restraints in place, though, there wasn't time to test them, so it wasn't certain how well they'd hold. Something that might be tested before the day is done when the doctors begin to probe the Daxamite's brain to restore his lost memories.
Nick Fury	Fury's eye watches all this current situation with a frown and a concerned, cold expression on his face. Not looking at Barton as they continue to talk, Fury shakes his head, as though "talking" himself into something. When Mon-El asks to be restrained, Fury nods, and agrees with that assesment. It was obviously painful, and Fury wouldn't wish that on anyone. Well, maybe there were a few people...he has a list.     "Good call Agent Barton. Bringing him here was a smart move." Fury looks at Barton sideways, and adds, "She's having a good influence on you." Now who could he be refering too? Looking back at the Daxamite, Fury exhales, not realising he had been holding his breath. "Okay." Taking the icer, Fury tucks it away somewhere. "I'm hoping it doesn't come to that."
Mon-El	The doctors sort of...poke experimentally at Lar's wrist with a needle to see if the concoction actually worked enough, maybe they don't want to waste too many of those things. But honestly it's probably the sharps waste they're worried about. Come on, it's expensive! At least compared to regular garbage. However, the drug proves itself here. The needle sinks in like it would to a normal human being's skin. As for Lar, he doesn't even flinch at it, probably because he's already in enough pain that an additional little pinch doesn't really make for much of a difference.     From there it's a whirl of activity as the medical team gets the equipment set up. First things first, they put the anesthetic in that first IV to get him put under if possible--that works at least for now, so thank goodness right? Then all the monitoring equipment is set up. Heartrate, brainwaves, all the vitals. Finally they're ready to start the actual probing, but for whatever reason they pause, glancing somewhat uncertainly at Fury as if to gain reassurance from him and hence a sense of security that this is actually okay to go ahead with.
Clint Barton	Clint grins over at Fury, "No idea who you mean, sir," he says about a certain someone being a good influence on him. "Though if she was here she'd probably have pushed for them to just upgrade the damn equipment so we could do this on the dark side of the moon or wherever," he says. Still the precautions in place were solid. Clint takes a peek into the surgical suite and makes a face, "Wow. If I ever lose my memories, boss? Just saying it now, let them stay lost."
Nick Fury	Fury watches the situation carefully, ready to pull the plug if necessary. His instincts were telling him he wouldn't have to though. Fury nods at the medical staff, giving each one a confident, assuring look to let them know they were to go ahead, and had the full support of SHIELD. And he was there as a calming influence. He felt it was important for that, anyway. Sometimes, just being there helped.     "Of course you don't Agent Barton." Fury nods again, not even looking at Barton. "Dark side of the moon..nice idea. Next time - and no worries. If you lose your memories, we'll all be there to make sure you get them back. Somehow." Was that a nice comment?
Mon-El	Clint's comment about not wanting to be subjected to all of this like Lar is currently doesn't help. But, Fury's reassuring presence does. In fact, him just being there in person gives their confidence a boost. They nod back at him and the lead surgeon takes a breath through his mask. "Let's do this."     And into the alien's head they go, with the instrumentation necessary to get the job done--to start repairing the connections that had been severed and therefore restoring the lost memories. It goes pretty quickly, perhaps a bit faster than expected, but just as they are almost finished there's an unexpected spike on the monitors despite his unconscious state, Lar's neural activity is suddenly heading off the charts! The instruments start to beep incessantly, the frequency increasing to convey a growing sense of urgency...     Meanwhile, inside the Daxamite's mind, everything is flooding back at an incredible pace and with an amazing level of detail. Every moment, every feeling, every emotion of every day of his life. Past -and- future. It was like reliving the past thousand years of experience all at once. A large percentage of which was spent in the Phantom Zone. Which was not the best place in the universe...     "No!"     Abruptly, even as one of the nurses is going to check on the readings to figure out if they need to dial it back or adjust anything, Lar's eyes suddenly fly open and he bolts up off of the bed. The restraints are just...ripped up instantly as he doesn't even seem to be aware they were there in the first place. Apparently, 'weakened' Daxamite still means stronger than Earth's peak human athlete. The unfortunate doctor who happened to be closest to him ends up pinned against the wall, gasping for air. "Y-you won't...I can't go back there! J-just let me die! I'd rather die!" he is shouting.
Clint Barton	Right, Daxamite hearing! Oops! Clint totally didn't expect Lar to hear what he'd said to Fury, and doesn't realize his slip up either for now though, it's all good, when he figures it out? Totally mortified. For now though, he turns to Fury and smiles, "That's eerily nice of you, boss," he asks before smirking. "You sick or something? First the time off, now you're saying nice things." Lar's screams cut off further banter and Barton goes white as he looks at Lar writhing on the table. "Jesus," he breathes casting a look back at Fury. "Is that normal, boss?" he asks, stepping closer to the glass and looking at Lar again. "Because, damn..."
Nick Fury	Nick Fury watches as things progress to the last stages of the medical procedures. Obviously not a big talker at the best of times, he was almost completely silent this time around. His eye took everything in, and his patch did even more for him.     Fury gives Clint a look, as the action gets critical. A signal flashes between them, and Fury stands back while he points at Lar. "You might need to deal with that." Back up is what he was, and that suits him fine. The day that Fury has to get directly involved is the day they are a fu**'d.     Turning away, Fury says, "I need to go Agent Barton. You are in charge. Try not to allow the destruction of this facility, if possible? Oh, and no casualties?" With that, Fury disappears out the door, to who knows where. A busy man, from problem, to cataclysm, to disaster, to everything else that needs to be averted.
Mon-El	The eyes of the doctor being held against the wall are wide as he flails uselessly trying to get Lar to release him from that iron grip.     "P-please...Mr. Gand...you're c-confused...c-calm d-down..." he manages to gasp out.     "Who are you, and what do you want from me?!?" Lar demands. "I don't care what you do to me, I'm not going to help you--"     At that point, he is interrupted by a couple of the other staff, who try to mandhandle him off of his victim, but simply get swatted across the room. They crash into one of the monitors, knocking it over with a smash and the sound of glass shattering. The ones who have been too scared to take any action yet just stare out at Clint with widened eyes as if to say "DO something!!"
Clint Barton	Clint nods as Fury takes his leave, then bolts for the door to the surgical suite, grabbing his bow and quiver on the way. He bursts through the doors, not having drawn an arrow yet, but his bow snaps into firing position. "Lar!" he shouts. "Let Doctor Goodman go," he moves towards Lar carefully, it didn't look like he was at full strength but he was more than strong enough to be dangerous. "It's me Lar, calm down."
Mon-El	The medical team is visibly relieved when Clint finally bursts in. Yes, Hawkeye is here to save the day! He doesn't need powers to be awesome, right?     Lar's attention is immediately diverted toward Clint, and seeing a more immediate threat since he is armed, drops Goodman to the floor. The man scrambles away quickly, ducking for cover along with the rest of his people.     Meanwhile, Hawkeye has definitely succeeded in drawing the aggro to himself. The thermal vision characteristic of Kryptonians and Daxamites bursts out of his eyes straight toward the Avenger--however due to his weakened state even if it does hit, it won't be nearly as hot as per usual, although it won't be without a sting to it, either.
Clint Barton	Clint has a moment of relief when Lar, turns but then his years of combat training kick in and he realizes its not to say hello. He leaps to the floor as the beams blast over his head and leave scortch marks on the wall. Though they are only marks, not grooves dug by intense heat. That's a plus. Still, Clint grumbles, "Teaches me not to read the file," he rolls and comes up behind some expensive looking equipment out of Lar's immediate line of sight, "Thought 'weakened' meant no laser eyes," he continues to mutter before yelling out to Lar, "Hey man, it's me, Clint, can you chill it with the laser eyes man, we're here to help you!"
Mon-El	Right, that's what it was supposed to be. But in science, things don't always go the way they're supposed to. Well actually that kind of applies to life in general doesn't it?     Perhaps much to Clint's relief, Lar seems to hesitate just before he was about to let loose with other eye blast at him. "C-clint...?" He stammers. Putting a hand to the back of his head and drawing it away again he finds it covered with his own blood from the still-open incision that had been made for the operation. Eyes widening, he suddenly appears panicked. "P-please...I can't go back there...I can't...not again...just--just let me die..." Where exactly this 'there' he's rambling about is anyone's guess.
Clint Barton	Oh, Clint is definitely aware of the dangers of supposed to do in science. Also, casts some doubt on the anti-Lar ICER rounds too. "Yeah, man, it's me," Clint calls, stepping just enough out of cover for Lar to see that with his own eyes. "Go back where man? What are you talking about?"
Mon-El	"You..." Lar looks shocked that Clint doesn't know what he's talking about. "...you don't know? The...the Phantom Zone...the place the Kryptonians send their worst criminals and I never want to go back there again, even if..." Suddenly he frowns and grabs his friend by the front of his shirt, lifting him slightly off of the floor. "No, th-this is all a ruse! T-tell me what's -really- going on here!!" he demands. "Is General Lane behind this?!"
Clint Barton	Clint shakes his head, "Hey man, I never even heard of the Phantom Zone until you mentioned it," Clint assures him, hands out to the side. Though that leaves him wide open to be grabbed and lifted. "Whoa!" he shouts, bringing his bow back in to slam against Lar's arm. "Let me go, I am not with the Army or General Lane, I'm with SHIELD remember, you asked me to help you remember who you are."
Mon-El	There's a pause that probably isn't that long but maybe feels like an eternity before Lar finally puts Clint down. "..." He stares at the damage he's already caused and backs away, sitting back down on the bed.     "O-oh my god...I-I...I'm sorry...was anyone hurt??" he frowns at the IV still connected to him. "You need to up the dose. Clearly it wasn't enough." When the doctors look uncertain, he nods more firmly. "Just do it, finish what you started."
Clint Barton	Clint has questions, so many questions, but right now isn't the time to ask them. Lar drops him and Clint waits a few moments before he pushes a button on the bow to fold it back up again. He puts a hand on Lar's shoulder. "It's okay man, Doctor Goodman's going to need some new pants, but I think everyone's fine," he says glancing around the room for confirmation. He gets it in the form of nervous nods from the doctors. "See," he says. When Lar gives the order for more, Clint nods in support. "Get this done and do it quickly," he says letting them tend to him while he steps back. "It'll be alright man, we've got you."
Mon-El	The team is a bit shaken up, yes, and maybe a little bit bruised, but hey, they're SHIELD. They probably at least sort of expected something crazy to happen. After all it's their job to deal with crazy. If they hadn't signed up for this, they'd be working normal jobs in the -public- sections of this hospital.     So they dust themselves off and get right back to work to finish up the operation. Couple more hours and they're working on stitching up the incisions, followed by high-intensity sunlamps to speed up recovery. Of course, solar radiation works like a charm on people like him. It's not long before the surgical wounds are mostly fully healed.
Clint Barton	The two hours go by like a snap of the fingers, really, the adrenaline it does wonky stuff to your perception of time. So, when the wounds are sutured and the sunlamps snap on, Clint is startled to find it's done. Once he gets a nod from the doctors, he makes his way over. "Hey, Lar, buddy, are you awake?" he asks.
Mon-El	Lar peers up at Clint and nods. "Yes...thank you, Clint. And tell Fury the same." he smiles. "Also, I'm sorry about earlier. Dr. Goodman was right, I was confused. It was like...bouncing back and forth between past, present, and future. But I'm glad no one was hurt. And I'm glad you were there to bring me back to the present and make sure I stay here."
Clint Barton	Clint smiles, "Tell Fury? Nah, it'll just go to his head," he says knowing full well the boss has cameras in the room and would likely watch the tape. "And don't worry, it looked like a wild ride, I don't think anyone's going to hold it against you, but, the big question is, did it work? What can you remember?" he asks.
Mon-El	Lar nods, sitting up. "Everything. Some of it good, some of it...not so good." he says, shaking his head slightly at the memory of being trapped in the Phantom Zone for so long. "You probably have a pile of questions." he chuckles. "But don't worry, I'll do my best to answer them all in due time."
Clint Barton	Clint nods, "Just a few," he says grinning. "SHEILD too, but they can wait. Sounds like you're going to need a bit of time to process everything, but if you're good enough to stand we've got a place that isn't the super creepy lab where you can rest and do that. The questions, we can deal with later."
Mon-El	"I could appreciate that." Lar says with a smile, getting up off of the bed and pulling a jacket on. Not because it's cold, just because it looks nice. "And where is this not so creepy place you speak of, exactly?" he laughs.
Clint Barton	Clint laughs and gestures grandly towards the door. "Right this way," he says with a laugh. And with that he leads the way out of the lab.