[ buckshot is my bread, and I'll drink whiskey instead of water ] [ OPEN ]

[nailsthetarget]

WHO: nailsthetarget and YOU
WHAT: Clint healing. Crankily.
WHERE: Fratvengers house
WHEN: anytime after Clint gets back
WARNINGS: Clint
SUMMARY: The Fratvengers couch has been taken over by a huge, angry archer. Good luck getting the remote back.

Comments

[nailsthetarget]

Clint, on the other hand, has been purposefully avoiding Steve. In his universe, he tolerated the guy---barely. They came from similar stock---pulled in by the government to serve their land of the free and home of the brave, whittled down and built back up until they'd passed muster. The difference was, Clint made no bones about the fact that he was a killer, and Cap wrapped all his nastiness up in self-righteousness and the cloak of the red, white and blue. They did the same jobs, oftentimes the same way, but Steve made it very clear that his convictions made him a superior beast.

He'd always held his tongue, but he'd never agreed. To him, the true face of a man was how he was at home, not on camera. He'd had a good family, and Cap had had an affair with a married woman. Clint had almost stabbed the guy over the dinner table when he'd told Jan that her low-cut shirt made her look like a whore---if his children hadn't been watching, he probably would have. Clint'd had a very strict rule about bloodshed under his roof, though.

But this wasn't his Cap. He wasn't sure what to make of him, especially when he showed up at a quarter to three with milk and cookies.

"I'm good," he said, and took another painkiller.

[touchmyflagpole]

Well, Steve isn't going to insist. He sets the plate down between the both of them, though, both as an invitation for Clint to help himself and as a buffer to create the illusion of personal space.

And then he's not quite sure what to do. He knows nothing at all about this Clint, except that he probably shoots a bow really well and that he's beat up badly enough that Steve winces internally whenever he gets a good look at him. And now that he's thought of that, he can't help but ask, "How are you healing up?"

Which is better than sitting there in awkward silence, but only barely.

Since when did he become so bad at talking to people?

[nailsthetarget]

Clint had always kind of been bad at talking to people. At least, he'd been bad about it when he had to talk to people that he couldn't speak freely around. He was known for being a foul, mouthy SOB, and he earned that notoriety honestly.

The whole thing felt unspeakably awkward. He tried to soldier on through it.

"Yeah. Slowly but surely. Shit sucks, but that's life. Not all of us can be super soldiers."

[touchmyflagpole]

"I'm sorry. You're a brave man and you don't..."

Steve trails off, finding that the words he was about to say sound hollow and fake. Talking to Bucky and Toro and Rikki has been bringing back memories of the war. He has said variations of the tired old phrases to dozens of men in dozens of hospitals. "You don't deserve this." "Soldier on, that's a good man." "Your country appreciates your sacrifice."

Clint deserves better than that.

Steve scrubs his hands over his face, pulls his fingers through his hair and wonders if he looks as tired as he feels.

"I'm sorry."

This wasn't how things were supposed to be.