[[need sleep. need to be up at 3:15 and its now nearly 11. so. bed.]]
#Erin posts OOC things #good thing i can sleep in the van #as long as the girl who is single-handedly responsible for two of my three panic attacks this week #isn't in the same van i am #that was a slight exageration but she was still responsible for panic attacks #and its a fucking 12 hour drive
“Nope,” Clint replied, heading back towards the couch. He was aware that he was probably annoying Steve insanely, but it was good for him. Keep his mind off things. “Dude, I’m about to fall asleep on my feet. There’s no way I’m driving anywhere. Come be useful and gimme a pillow or somethin’.”
He demonstrated to the couch behind him, “Sleep there—” He said sternly before he walked toward his own bedroom, his arms wrapped around him. “I’ll be leaving early in the morning. Lock the door on your way out.”
“Hey, no,” Clint protested, switching directions to follow Steve. “Totally unfair. One, you shouldn’t be working. Two, I’m not sleeping on a couch. Three, if you leave me here I will eat all your food and steal your DVDs and leave the door wide open on my way out.”
“No,” Clint insisted, “The absolute last thing you need is to be alone, you giant jackass. I know how you feel, you asshole. The thing is, I’m not sure that you know how you feel. I’m not saying you need to get over it. I’m saying that you need to stop acting like someone else.”
“You’re the one who was going to walk out,” He pushed. His eyes narrowed, “I’m not acting like someone else. I’m acting like myself in shock which is something you’ve never seen despite you and I knowing each other for years. I can be alone. I think I’d rather to be alone right now.”
“Nope,” Clint replied, heading back towards the couch. He was aware that he was probably annoying Steve insanely, but it was good for him. Keep his mind off things. “Dude, I’m about to fall asleep on my feet. There’s no way I’m driving anywhere. Come be useful and gimme a pillow or somethin’.”
Clint continued to glare, crossing his arms over his chest. “No. I don’t think I will,” he replied, “This is your issue, Rogers. You’re so focused on this one fucking thing that you forget other things.” He shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry about what’s happened to you, Rogers, but you’re not even being yourself right now and you’re shutting down and that’s the exact opposite of what you should be doing right now.”
He looked at his hands, “She was killed in front of me less than twenty four hours ago, Clint. Excuse me for not being fully over it just yet,” He snapped. “I said get out of my house,” He snarled as he stepped closer to him, “If there’s a smart bone in your entire body, you’d wise up and listen to orders for once.”
“No,” Clint insisted, “The absolute last thing you need is to be alone, you giant jackass. I know how you feel, you asshole. The thing is, I’m not sure that you know how you feel. I’m not saying you need to get over it. I’m saying that you need to stop acting like someone else.”
He glared as he looked up at Clint, “Are you done?”
Steve stood then, “If you don’t like me, that’s your own damn business, Barton but you can not stand in front of me and tell me that you don’t know better than this. How dare you say I don’t care? I don’t have anything other than this. This is my everything. How naive do you have to be to think that I don’t care about it?” He pointed at the door, “On another day, I might have spent the rest of my night yelling back and forth with you to try to get through that thick skull of yours. But now I can’t be bothered to. Get out of my house right now.”
Clint continued to glare, crossing his arms over his chest. “No. I don’t think I will,” he replied, “This is your issue, Rogers. You’re so focused on this one fucking thing that you forget other things.” He shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry about what’s happened to you, Rogers, but you’re not even being yourself right now and you’re shutting down and that’s the exact opposite of what you should be doing right now.”
His jaw clenched and he stood from the couch, tossing the bag of chips at Steve’s head. “I don’t even like you and I don’t have to deal with this, so good luck dealing with your shit,” he snapped, turning to grab his bag.
He dodged the chips with little movement and simply stared up at Clint as he got up from the couch. He didn’t have enough energy to stop him. He averted his eyes as he settled on the couch, just another person he couldn’t depend on anymore.
Clint stopped halfway to the door and dropped his bag, spinning back to Steve. “You know what really pisses me off, Rogers? It’s that I’m all for trying to help you and trying to ignore the fact that I can’t fucking stand you and you’re just sitting here like someone fucking came and sucked your damn brains out! Although I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised because you’ve always ignored people that aren’t saying what you want or doing what you want. It’s funny ‘cause I don’t really give a fuck what you think or what you do, but my life is in your hands a lot, Rogers, and so are a lot of other people’s and you can’t fucking afford to be this big of a jackass, so suck it the fuck up, soldier. People die. Good people, even. Your attitude ain’t gonna change that.” By the end Clint was practically shouting, glaring at the other man.
Clint shrugged a shoulder, slouching down into the couch. This was why he didn’t talk about shit. He was trying to help and Steve obviously wasn’t listening to him. “I can leave if you’d rather sulk by yourself,” he replied, voice tinged with snark to cover up the rejection and worry.
He shook his head, “Why would I let you leave? I need to learn from you, the best sulker I know—” He smirked.
His jaw clenched and he stood from the couch, tossing the bag of chips at Steve’s head. “I don’t even like you and I don’t have to deal with this, so good luck dealing with your shit,” he snapped, turning to grab his bag.
Steve’s face didn’t change as Clint talked about himself, yet again. He figured it was Clint’s way of telling him that he understood and that he could relate but Steve wasn’t in the mood for it. He wasn’t in the mood for Clint’s constant need to one up everything he did and said. “I have the power of will. I have the knowledge that if she came back to find me sulking over her that she’d slap me. She was a soldier through and through and I’m not going to—” He shook his head, “I know how to cope. Just this time, I don’t want to have to.”
Clint shrugged a shoulder, slouching down into the couch. This was why he didn’t talk about shit. He was trying to help and Steve obviously wasn’t listening to him. “I can leave if you’d rather sulk by yourself,” he replied, voice tinged with snark to cover up the rejection and worry.
Clint didn’t say much, instead focusing on his snacks and watching Steve out of the corner of his eye, trying to keep track of the other man’s mood without letting him know.
Steve was exhausted and he knew this was going to be his last chance for a couple of days to really get some R&R. He sighed, “You don’t have to keep your eyes on me like I’m on Watch or something, Clint.”
Swallowing a mouthful of food, Clint turned to look at Steve straight on. He chewed his lip as he studied the other man. As a general rule, he didn’t open up to anyone, especially not Steve. “I’m just worried, is all,” he finally replied, “I…losing Balder was the worst thing that’d happened to me in years and it…it took forever for me to be able to feel normal again. It was shitty and lonely and Hell, it’s been like eight months and I’m still not fucking over it. And when I say that, I mean to an extent where I literally don’t want to live some days when I wake up. And I’m actually happy right now Steve. I’ve moved on and it still hurts that much and I just…”
He shrugged, looking forward again. “I know how much it hurts, is all. And I forced myself through it for my kid, but you don’t have that.”
Hawkeye's back, bitches
The name’s Clint Barton, World’s Greatest Marksman. I go by Hawkeye. I’m a genius with a bow and pretty much the best thing ever. I could also kick your ass while blindfolded. Raised by carnies and proud to be an Avenger. Life's gettin' a little better.
[In a relationship with Stephen Strange. He usually won't bring it up unless pressured. He lives with Stephen in the Sanctum.]
Tags
OOC Information
Reminders
[[RP blog for an AU-616 version of Clint Barton with a slightly altered history; have loose group but will RP with anyone.
Sometimes NSFW. Usually under a Read More.
Cannot always follow back because dash gets too crowded.
RPer lives in US-CST zone and is 21+.
Hill is Director of SHIELD in his universe.]]
[header by baby kate]
