"I know this song." Steve whispered as he nudged Tony with his elbow.

"Am I supposed to be proud?" Tony whispered back.

Steve glared back in annoyance and turned his focus back to the video feed, just in time to see Clint stop altogether suddenly.

"Open up your eyes, then you'll realise, here I stand with my everlasting lo-"Clint sang, the feeling of laughter starting to bubble inside his chest.

He knew for a fact that he was severely sleep deprived. The longest he went with no sleep was maybe about ninety-two hours. Because here he was, singing sappy love songs and smiling lazily. That, was not normal. But it had been considered to be for quite some time now. It had to be.

Before he could continue further with his song, the back of his neck tingled as a voice struck up a conversation. "Missed me?"

Clint stilled abruptly. Turning his head to face the figure, he replied "Not much."

"How long this time?"

"A hundred and twenty-two hours so far. New record, hooray." He stated blandly.

"Still climbing out the window since the last time I saw you?"

"Yeah, so?" Clint rolled his eyes.

"Why do you still do that?"

"Nat's a light sleeper. If I use the door, she'd hear me. I don't wanna wake her up from the little sleep I know she gets. Besides, it's a great workout for the arms y'know ." He shrugged his shoulders tiredly.

"You should really talk to somebody."

"I talk to you."

"You know, for a person who gives good advice I don't see how you're in this situation."

"Haven't we been through this before? I know for a fact that I give good advice. Doesn't necessarily mean I follow them."

"The guys seemed nice. They tried to help you."

"They thought I had a problem."

"Don't you?"

"They have their own problems to handle. I tried to help, I wonder if it worked. And hell, the world has problems. Doesn't make mine any more important. And that's saying if I even had any." Clint ruffed out, getting a little edgy.

"Why do you keep lying to yourself Clint?"

"I am not lying, I'm just improving the truth!" Clint refuted angrily, guitar now lying at his side.

"You know exactly what's wrong and you know you need help. My being here is proof enough that you do have a problem so tell me what it is!"

"No. I don't have a problem." Clint produced the words in a low growl.

"Say it."

"I have nothing to say to you." He forced out as he clenched his jaw so hard.

"You son of a bitch. At least have the balls to admit it to yourself."

"I can't sleep!" Clint shouted suddenly in frustrated agony.

His neck was red with anger as his breathing became laboured.

"I can't sleep, for the love of god I can't sleep. I have nightmares. I kill every single person that mean something to me every time I close my eyes! Banner? Dead. Stark? Dead too. Steve? Also dead! Natasha? Dead! They all die because of me! Phil? Oh wait he really is dead!" He ended off with deadpan.

He was shouting and screaming towards the skyline of the city, his voice already getting hoarse as veins made their appearances along his neck. He was so angry. His heart smouldered in resentment at himself. All the pent up pressure, the emotions he pressed back in for the past month was finding their brutal way back up to the surface, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

He was losing more and more sleep as the month passed painstakingly slow in his opinion. He could go days without sleeping and nobody would notice, because that was when he went all smiley. No sleep for an extended period of time did that to people. In some way, it numbed everything. Everything seemed so...light, and surreal. Numb. It made him seem happy.

But then the time would come when his body was tired beyond compensation where he would literally collapse into bed, and that was the only time he got anything close to sleep. That however didn't last long either. The much needed sleep never failed to be plagued by horrific nightmares that seemed so real. So frightening that he'd refuse to close his eyes for more than ten seconds at one go. He'd rather lose sleep for another few days again.

The days right after some sleep from the fiery depths of hell, he segregated himself from the others, unwilling to entertain any form of human interaction. He grew quiet, detached and nobody dared approach him.

This excruciating cycle repeated itself, on and on for a whole month. It was so straining on him mentally and physically, that Clint really wondered bluntly why he hadn't just dropped dead yet.

He sat there panting, gulping mouthfuls of oxygen as he felt and heard the increased rate of his heartbeat reverberating in his ears. And then suddenly he burst out in laughter, the previous figure he saw already long gone, and long forgotten.

"I...don't deserve sleep. I don't deserve...friends. I don't...deserve anything!" He managed between unstoppable laughter.

He giggled. He chuckled. He laughed. He gagged. No, he wanted to stop laughing! It hurt. He laughed so hard till his ears turned crimson as blood rushed to his head, turning his face pink as well. He laughed till he had tears in his eyes. And then any hint of laughter died down unanticipatedly.

"I can't sleep." He said quietly to himself, his voice maybe an octave higher as his throat closed on him.

The amount of tears that gathered in his eyes before, now steadily increased.

"I...I can't- I can't sleep." The hands that held past bruises and scars came up to cover his face as he gave just one single strangled sob, tears of frustration finally escaping the shelter of his eyelids as they cascaded down the curvature of his tired face. And he just cried on silently.

He was so tired. He couldn't handle himself, nor could he endure it any longer. He was that desperate for decent sleep, and nobody could help him. Rough hands of his own began to pound against his own skull as the marksman made great effort to snap out of his moment of weakness. Raining clenched fists upon his head, he wished he could knock himself out good. Finally he stopped - a sign of resignation. Head bowed, face buried in shame and hands pressed against his temples so hard it might have bruised, Clint was the epitome of a nervous breakdown.

TBC

I happened to have sleeping problems. That numb feeling? Totally true, can't really describe it but it's like your brain is wrapped with bubblewrap and there's definitely a headache there but it's like...a numb pain. HAHA that's so ironic xD