AN: abuse, suicidal thoughts
He is four years old the first time his brother pushes him.
Of course, it's probably happened before, but four is the farthest back he can remember. It was something simple, really. They were playing together, and his brother got angry. He pushed him and he fell and hit his arm on the side of the coffee table. He clutches his arm and his brother stands over him, looking at him with disgust rather than worry.
Later that night, his parents scold him and tell him that he should be more careful.
Nobody mentions the purple bruise running the length of his arm.
…
He's seven years old the first time he breaks a bone. He and his older brother were climbing trees and out of nowhere, he was on the ground and his arm was bent all the wrong way. He starts screaming and crying, and his parents run out of the house. They take him to the hospital, get a cast, and take him home. Later that night, his mother backhands him across the face and tells him to be more careful. His father laughs drunkenly and tells him to man up, that men can't cry.
That night he promises himself he will never cry in front of them again.
…
He is nine the first time he meets someone from Child protective Services. He's in the hospital again, because he fell (was pushed) down the side of a rocky creek and his leg might be broken. The CPS lady has brown hair and a nice smile. She walks into his room and smiles, but the next minute his parent s are there and they coo and worry about him and the CPS is gone within the hour.
Sitting home that night with a broken leg, his mother makes him promise to never talk to CPS about anything.
You are after all, a screw up, she says.
He believes it.
…
He is twelve years old the day his older brother pushes his younger brother down a well.
It's on the outskirts of his grandparent's property, too far away for anyone to hear the screaming. He has a rope to throw, but his older brother is there, tall and menacing, and he cannot move. He pulls his younger brother out eventually, wet and shaking, and he chokes back the vomit and the tears that rise.
He cannot be weak.
He cannot be weak.
He cannot be weak.
…
He is fifteen years old the day he burns down his parents' house.
Tries to burn down, that is. The house still stands, though it's only a shell now, and he can't help but feel like a failure as he's pushed into the back of as cop car. He doesn't see his family again for a long time.
…
He is sixteen years old the first night he sleeps in the woods.
It's dark and rainy, and he curls up under a tree. He can barely see in the crushing darkness and pouring rain but he can hear the wind and the animals in the forest. He almost wishes he were still in juvie. But he thinks of his family, and thinks of the promise the man had made, and he grits his teeth and closes his eyes.
He will survive.
…
He is seventeen the first time he shoots a gun.
He is seventeen the first time he kills a living creature.
It's only a bird; he makes himself think, as the dog drags it back to him.
Still he can't help but feel the bile rising in his throat.
I can make you into a man, the voice in his head says.
The next day, he shoots birds until he feels nothing but the kickback each time he pulls the trigger.
…
He is nineteen that first time someone dislocates his shoulder.
He blacks out, and wakes up to an empty campsite, the dog pushing at him with his nose, and his arm completely out of its socket. He grits his teeth, and pushes it back in.
You deserved it, the voice in his head says.
Because you're weak, the voice says.
He is nineteen the first time he stares down the barrel of his own gun and thinks about pulling the trigger.
…
He is twenty-one the first time he gets beat within an inch of his life.
It was on a mission. Actually, it was because he screwed up a mission. His S.O. doesn't even look at him, just sending his fists flying towards his face and kicks his ribs.
He is twenty-one the first time he breaks a rib.
…
He is twenty two the first time he gets shot. It's only in the shoulder, and it's only a graze, his S.O. repeats as he grits his teeth and he is confused because he's pretty sure the bullet tore through his shoulder. But it's only a graze, his S.O. repeats again, so he repeats those words in his head until he believes them.
It's only a graze.
He will survive.
…
Almost a decade goes by and nothing new happens. Missions, secrets, bruises, he's seen it all before. This life is more comfortable now, and he feels in control. Of himself, of his destiny. He may be in the shadows, but he does not feel as though he is hiding.
He is twenty-one the first time someone explains what it is to be compromised in this job.
He is thirty the day he understands what that person was saying.
…
He is thirty years old the day he is put on a new team.
The bus is a different world, and different part of S.H.I.E.L.D. he knew about but never acknowledged.
That is where it all changes.
First mission.
First time on the bus.
He's standing in an alley in Los Angeles, in front of an inconspicuous blue van.
His boss pulls open the door.
He understands the meaning of the word compromised.
…
He is thirty years old the day he watches the girl he loves almost die.
He is thirty years old when they come out of the shadows.
He is thirty years old the day he watches the love on her face turn into hurt and disgust.
He is thirty years old the day his S.O. is killed.
…
He is thirty-one years old.
He isn't sure; of course, there are no markers of time in his cell, and barely any light.
He feels nothing.
He feels everything.
He wishes he had a gun.
There is button on the back of his pants.
He makes his choice.
There is no survival.
He doesn't want to live anymore.