Okay, so I've been working on this for a while. I'm actually really proud of it, especially since I managed to get it over 2400 words not counting ANs and the title.
I don't own The Avengers, no matter how many fics I write about them.
I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. Also, this isn't meant to be slash, just brotherliness, but you can think of it as slash if you want.
Now cross-posted to ao3 at /works/6553357 .
Things That Have Been Broken (Can Still Be Fixed)
He knew he was broken. It was just a matter of fact now, nothing really surprising. He was used to it, no longer bothered by it, and dare he say it: he didn't mind it. He knew he was broken, but he didn't bother to fix himself because what was the point when he would just break again? It was like fixing a vase that fell over. You could glue it back together, but it would fall again, and it would break again. Steve suspected he wouldn't even get glue. He'd get duct tape, and hope it would hold but it wouldn't, because it was duct tape and even duct tape couldn't fix everything.
That was why he was surprised when he met the archer. Because he'd never met anyone as broken as him, not even Tony, Bruce, Thor, and Natasha, and damn it all if they didn't come close. But not only was Clint as broken as him, but he was more broken, and Steve had always known that was saying something. But Clint was more broken than Steve, and he knew it and he knew Steve knew it. It was just another fact, like how Steve was broken and there was nothing Steve could do to fix himself. And if Steve couldn't fix himself, how could Clint even hope to try?
It had started with, as always, Tony. It was another 'movie night', when the Avengers all grouped together in the living room after seemingly migrating into the room where one of them had started a movie. Usually it was Tony who started the movie, no doubt hoping the others would join him, so it had come as a surprise to Steve when he wandered in an hour after dinner to find Clint sitting there on the couch, curled into as small of a ball as possible as he watched The Hobbit.
He had hesitated at first, unsure of whether Clint would mind him joining him, because he honestly had loved the book and, though having heard the movie was bad, really wanted to form his own opinion and if Clint had chosen it it had to be good.
Which was how when Natasha drifted in a couple minutes after Steve in her pajamas, Steve had already settled onto the couch next to the archer, both as far apart as they really could get, because neither really liked physical touches unless it was in the field or they really trusted the other person. Natasha had softly hummed at them, smacked Clint softly on the back of his head for not telling her he was watching The Hobbit, and promptly settled in between the two blondes. Thor had been next, always eager for bonding time, and Clint had been forced to move to the floor if he wanted to stay close to Natasha while at the same time not be squished by Thor, because the god had always had a peculiar sense of where the best spot was, and Clint's had seemed to be it. Tony was next, never last for a party, and while it certainly wasn't one Pepper had expressively forbidden him from drinking that night. Bruce was, of course, the last to join them, immediately being hushed when he walked in on the troll scene and took a seat on one of the chairs.
No one really seemed to notice at first, the way Clint had slowly shifted until he was pressed right up against Natasha's legs, but once Tony did he couldn't hold back.
"Hey, Legolas, you sure you and Spidey aren't together? Cause you're looking pretty cozy to me. Or are you just scared?" Natasha may not have liked it, but she knew Tony was just joking. Thor knew he was joking. So did Bruce. And Steve knew Tony was joking, because of course he was, that's what he did, but Steve also knew Clint wouldn't take it as a joke.
He didn't.
In one smooth movement, faltering just a little after sitting for so long, Clint was on his feet and moving toward the door, disappearing in seconds. Steve groaned as he got up, stopping just to wave Natasha off and tell Tony, "Nice job, Stark.", before hurrying after Clint. The first place that he checked was the roof. When he opened the door his eyes automatically fell on the blonde sitting on the edge of the roof. Steve carefully made his way over, wary of the rain that had begun to come down, sprinkling them with moisture.
"You know you shouldn't just run away like that." Steve mentioned after he had settled down next to Clint. "It'll just give him something else to tease you about."
Clint shook his head. "It doesn't matter." He muttered. "He already teases me about the things I don't do, so the things I do do shouldn't be a problem."
Steve sighed, finally venturing toward the first physical contact between them that didn't have to do with a battle as he slung his arm over the other blonde's shoulders, pulling him closer. He felt the archer tense before relaxing, sinking into the embrace with an almost desperate need. Steve wondered when the last time support through physical contact had come to Clint was. He wondered when he last had had physical support. It had been a while, hadn't it? Not since... surely there was some since he woke up in the twenty-first century? His grip on the archer tightened.
"Come on." He said finally, moving to his feet and pulling Clint with him. "We need to get inside before it really starts raining. We don't want you getting sick." Steve gave a short laugh, an attempt at humor. "Ms. Potts would have my head."
Clint gave a half-smile at that, following the taller male inside, a small part of him wishing that he could curl up into Captain America's embrace again, to hear his heartbeat, feel the warmth that he gave off. It was a warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time. One that reminded him of Barney, back when they were in the orphanage and Clint had been beaten by some older boys before Barney rescued him, pulling him away before he could get into trouble. It felt like Phil had, when he congratulated Clint on a job well done and gave him a hug just for surviving another day. It felt like a brother.
Predictably, Steve didn't get another chance to just let Clint know he was there for a while. Five full days. That's how long it was until they had another mission, and a chance for Steve to be there for Clint. It wasn't a big mission, not even overseas, just a few hours plane ride away in Mississippi. The villain was a new one, though, and that was why the Avengers had been called in. His name was Bryan Matthews* and he was an inventor. As it turned out, he was a very dangerous inventor, his robots causing more than a little trouble for Steve, Natasha, and Thor. Steve's shield and Natasha's bullets did little to no damage, and all Thor's lightning did was ramp up their power. Hulk, however, had a bit more fun with smashing, Clint's trick arrows proved a godsend, and Tony was able to take out the robots with his arc reactor.
As the other three weren't making much progress, it was Natasha's suggestion that they head into the compound to find Matthews. Their search yielded no inventor, but Thor found something else. A big something else. As soon as he saw it, Steve scrambled back the way they came, yelling for Natasha and Thor to follow him, because they only had two minutes and six seconds left on the clock and there would be no time at all to disarm the bomb it was attached to**. Natasha was the one to remember to warn the Hulk, Clint, and Tony, her yells echoing in their ears as Tony shot away, following the Hulk.
It was Clint who Steve first saw when he emerged from the compound. He was wrapped in the Hulk's arms, gray-blue eyes turned toward Steve's blue ones and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. For who, Steve didn't know. It may have been Natasha, or Thor, or him, or all of them at once. All Steve knew was that that was pure terror on Clint's face, and it was the first moment when Steve considered Clint may be not all the way broken - close, certainly closer than himself, but not all the way. Because a broken person wouldn't have that terror on his face, wouldn't be feeling anything. Clint wasn't all the way broken.
That was when his world blew up.
Steve awoke last, whether because Thor was a demigod and Natasha genetically altered or because he was the closest to the blast, he didn't know, but he was the last one to wake up. One quick glance around the hospital room proved that while Natasha was also injured and in bed, being a demigod was apparently handy as Thor was snoring in a chair near Natasha's bed. Tony was in a chair next to Steve, tapping away on his tablet and giving an occasional laugh. Bruce was seated next to Tony, a book in hand, and Clint was curled up against the wall across from both beds but between them, as if he couldn't decide who to give the most attention to.
It certainly didn't look very comfortable, but Steve knew that wasn't what made him speak up.
"Clint." He whispered. The blond head jerked up, eyes finding his versus the floor, a questioning yet anxious look in his eyes. "Come here." He patted the bed next to him, slowly making his way to the edge of the bed so that Clint would have room.
Clint shook his head. "You should rest."
"I am, Clint, I promise. But so do you." Steve sent a stern look toward Tony and Bruce, silently daring them to speak up and at the same time telling them that message was for them as well.
The archer hesitated just for a second, wetting his lips with his tongue before getting to his feet and shuffling toward Steve's bed. It was with nervous hands that Clint climbed in, opting to stay on top of the sheets. "You're sure it's okay?"
"I'm sure, Clint."
The next movement that Steve made was to reach out his arm, just like that night almost a week before, and pull Clint closer. Like before, Clint stiffened at first before relaxing, resting his head on Steve's arm and shoulder.
Tony shot Steve an amused look, but he ignored it in preference to tightening his grip on Clint and closing his eyes. He had a dreamless sleep.
The next opportunity that Steve got was three days after that. He had made the decision to turn on the Dodgers' game in favor of going to the party that Tony had dragged Natasha, Bruce, and Thor to. It was only Clint and himself in the tower, and he didn't know where Clint was. Soon it was nine o'clock, and Steve realized with a start that he hadn't seen the other blonde come downstairs for awhile. In fact, Clint hadn't been downstairs since the others left at four. With a frown, Steve paused the game (how he loved modern technology) and headed to the elevator.
"Jarvis, can you tell me where Clint is?"
"I can, sir. Would you like me to?" Jarvis replied.
"I would, thank you."
"It's not a problem, sir. Agent Barton is in his room. May I add that his temperature has risen significantly in the past five hours."
Steve's pace quickened, jamming the elevator button multiple times in his frustration. "Thanks, Jarvis. Tell Clint I'm on my way up."
"Of course, Captain Rogers." Jarvis paused. "I'm sorry, sir, but I am not able to."
Steve jumped into the elevator as it arrived, slamming his hand on the button that would take him to Clint's floor. "Why not, Jarvis?"
"Agent Barton is presently unconscious. He is in his bathroom next to the toilet."
Steve gave a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair in desperation. When Stark got back, he was having a serious conversation with him about getting to other floors more quickly, because the stairs would take even longer and the elevator just wasn't cutting it. He hesitated before speaking again. "Can you call Tony and let him know Clint his sick and needs medical attention? If he doesn't answer, try Natasha and Bruce. ...please."
The blonde man vaguely heard the AI respond in the affirmative, but paid no attention to him as the elevator doors opened and he rushed out into the hallway, rushing toward where he knew Clint's bedroom and therefore bathroom were. He skidded slightly on the wood floors in his socks, grabbing a hold of the doorway to keep his balance before opening the door and heading inside. Like Jarvis had said, the archer was in his bathroom next to the toilet, crumpled on the ground and clutching the rim of the toilet, which held the remains of Clint's lunch.
"Oh, Clint." Steve murmured as he moved to the archer's side. "You sure don't do things halfway, do you?"
Clint let out a groan as he blinked his eyes open to peer up at the other blonde. "So'y, Cap. Didn't wanna b' bother." He mumbled.
"Aw, Clint." Steve sighed. "When are you going to learn? You're not a bother. You never have been, never will be."
"Ever?" Clint managed as Steve half helped, half carried the archer back to his bed.
"Ever." Steve replied, helping Clint get on top of his bed before dragging the blankets over him. He grabbed a bucket from the hall closet and set it next to the bed. Steve carefully wiped back Clint's hair from his forehead, wincing at the heat. He quickly flushed the toilet and turned off the lights, quietly asking Jarvis to inform him if anything changed.
Steve took a look at the younger man and realized that, between the two of them, maybe they weren't broken. Not anymore.
"I promise."
* Not sure if this is a real name or not. It sounds kind of familiar, so it could be someone I know personally but not very well or a famous person. I just thought it sounded good, so there it is.
** Obviously I have no experience in bombs, so don't trust me on this. I just needed enough time to get them to the front of of the compound but not enough to disable the bomb. So I guessed.
I hope you enjoyed, and sorry if you didn't. But please review! I love getting feedback, and I would love to know what you guys thought of this.