Title: True Love Is For Dreamers Not Awakened Yet
Warning: Hints of SLASH. Not really. Squint.
Notes: 30 min writing exercise with the prompt: 'Yes, I believe in love, yes I'm a dreamer'
Enjoy :)
Steve found Clint sitting in the middle of his bedroom floor with no obvious reason as to why. It was a quiet Sunday evening. The archer sat cross legged with his hands clasped in the gap between his thighs. He looked like a child – it was saddening. Steve just shut the door silently and joined the other man on the floor, opposite him, mirroring his pose.
After Loki's infestation and control of Clint's mind, the archer had moments of blankness and emptiness and Steve didn't like it. He said to Clint that if he needed someone to talk to, to unload on, he was free, no permission required. Honestly, in reading Clint's file, he never actually expected that to occur because Barton didn't work like that.
'How's your knee?' he asked and that got Clint's attention. The man instantly became alert, intense blue to green eyes fixating Steve with that calculating look, as if he only just noticed Steve was sat in close proximity to him.
'It's alright. Still aches like fuck and I can't balance my weight so going to the range just pisses me off' Clint answered, dropping his eyes to somewhere around Steve's collarbone. On a mission, Clint had got shot in the back of his knee, frizzing nerve endings and shattering his knee cap. How he got home, Steve didn't want to know, but Clint was resilient and would be bleeding out and still get to his destination. Steve admired that in him. Clint involuntarily took SHIELD prescriptions. Bruce concocted some of his own painkillers mixing it with Clint's drinks.
'Well at least you're not watching Gossip Girl. We were getting worried about you' Steve teased, his grin widening at the mock glare thrown his way.
'Go away. I was hepped up on meds, plus it's not that bad, you know. What about you? You watch reality shows' Clint shuddered and flashing a grin. Steve held out his hands in surrender.
'You got me there, agent'
'You're a dork, Captain' Clint said, rubbing a hand through his hair. 'Man… this work… sometimes it really just-' Clint made a gesture with his hand. When Natasha or Clint went on missions that involved long stays, Steve was anxious that one or both wouldn't come back. He knew it was stupid; Clint and Natasha were extremely good at their jobs - top of their game. But they were his teammates – his friends – the fact that they were experts in their fields didn't matter when even Tony couldn't get hold of either agent.
'What keeps you doing it?' Steve asked. Clint shot him a look as if Steve had gone nuts.
'Seriously? What else do I have?' Clint spread his arms out wide, palms open. 'I'm a soldier. That's all I got' and Steve's brows furrowed.
'No you're not' he retorted. 'Don't think that'
'What did you think of me? After Loki. When I was 'cleared' of him?' Clint sneered.
'I saw someone being taken advantage of, a man with skills of yours, used against the people you stand with. Nobody thinks less of you Clint. I certainly don't' Steve said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
'Yeah well, I find it very fucking hard sometimes. It's like he's still in my head' Clint suddenly arched backwards, covering his face with his hands, groaning. Steve didn't know what to say to that really.
'I didn't know you back then. I didn't know any of you actually. You're strong, Clint; you're on the side of the good guys. You rescue children from buses, you're a good man Clint Barton' and a semi hysterical laugh seeped through the fingers of Clint's hands. He pulled them away, smiling briefly, ducking his head and the smile vanished.
Clint didn't object to Steve's statement nor did he add to it. The archer's eyes softened, glazed slightly. He was back to how he was prior to Steve finding him.
'Do you think I'll die alone?' Clint asked. Steve gaped at him, shocked at the question.
'Why are you asking that?'
'I like to think I won't but I swear, that idea is becoming harder and harder to tell myself. People think that I don't care, that I've accepted it. I haven't… Who'd want me anyhow? I hang around with you lot, you're enough hassle as it is' Clint's left hand twitched at his knee cap and Steve registered the wince.
'Plenty of people I'm sure'. Steve was answering the question buried amongst the chatter.
'But they want Hawkeye' Clint said quickly. What he didn't say was like they want Captain America. 'Yes, I believe in love, yes I'm a dreamer. How many of us are left nowadays?' Clint said, peering at Steve.
'It's hard to say. You can count me in though' Steve answered, smiling softly at the archer.
Clint smiled back, nodding. 'We're so fucked'.
'I don't think so. I think there's someone out there for everyone' Steve said honestly and even he could hear the naiveté in his voice.
Clint licked his lips in thought before clambering to his feet, Steve catching him when he wobbled. The archer grimaced.
'Thanks'
'No problem'
'I mean for all that' Clint tipped his head at the navy blue carpeted floor they were just sat on.
'I know' Steve replied, letting go of Clint as the man walked stiffly to the door. He stopped, twisting to face Steve once again.
'What if you think you've found that someone. What do you do?' Clint asked.
'Tell them' Steve said simply, because that was exactly what he couldn't do. The archer didn't reply, just left Steve alone.
Review if you liked it and tell me who you think darling Rogers is referring to ;)
