Author's Note: Basically, I've been contemplating how to write and maintain my education and while I feel like every chapter I feel like I harp on the same issue; that I cannot write while everything seems to be piling up around me. This issue still stands; I barely have time to do anything other than finish my schoolwork because of my current situation, hopefully either next semester or the upcoming holiday season I will be able to write more frequently. Despite this, I want to thank each and every one of you who remain loyal readers because it's your dedication that inspires me to write.

So I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Beyond the Masks We Wear

Moments after Clint released the arrow, he grabbed Bruce's arm and dragged him into the house. Shutting the door with a little more force than necessary, Clint crept over to the window just to make sure that the man wasn't going to try and come back. After making sure that the ignorant man wasn't in the vicinity, he wondered where Bruce was, he hadn't heard the other teen.

"Are you okay Bruce?" Clint inquired after seeing the state of the other teen. Pale in the face, slightly shaking and staring as if he could see into another dimension, Bruce seemed to be in a state of shock, or panic.

Placing his arms around Bruce, trying to ignore the flinch that resulted, Clint led him to the couch. Kneeling in front of the shaken form, Clint placed his hand on Bruce's trying to snap him out of it.

"He was following me…us. My father was following us all day. He was there at the circus." Bruce spoke so quietly that Clint had to strain his ears just to hear him.

After a few minutes of Clint trying to reassure that Bruce wouldn't be hurt again. They settled on the couch, watching as the images flashed across the television. After half an hour of simply flipping through the channels, Bruce's mother walked in. She wasn't surprised to see Clint sitting next to her son on the couch, however she wasn't expecting Clint to rush to her side and practically push her into the kitchen.

"Clint, what has gotten into you?" She asked glancing over to her son on the couch; both boys were acting quite odd in her mind.

"He showed up. Outside and said some fucked up things to Bruce. Sorry." He realized his use of profanity the second he said it, and felt somewhat embarrassed by it.

"Oh. So you met my husband. I'm so sorry. I've tried to get a divorce but he avoids the paperwork. Bruce won't talk to the police about the incidences so I can't technically get a restraining order.* Did he do anything?"

"He just said that people like Bruce, like 'us' were sick. I know what he meant, but I think the shock of being 'outed' like that must have pushed Bruce over the edge. I don't think Bruce knew that I knew he was gay."

"Wait, how did you know? I barely knew three months ago when I noticed him trying to subtly glance at men walking by. I didn't want to bring it up, I thought he would tell me when he was ready." Bruce's mother walked around the kitchen as she explained how she found out about her son and his interests.

"Well, it's kind of a long story…." Clint trailed off before she waved her hand in the general 'keep going' gesture.

FLASHBACK

Clint led Bruce through the crowds, past the giant tents and behind the lioness area and sat on the wooden fence, legs dangling over like it was normal. Giving Bruce time to calm down and gather his thoughts, he waited patiently for an explanation.

"My father isn't the most open-minded individual, to put it gently. He hates anyone who doesn't share his ideas. He wasn't around much when I was a child, but when I was around 15, he showed up acting like he was there from the beginning. For a while it seemed like things would work out, until he realized I was different, smarter than he was and able to think for on my own and could form my own opinions. Obviously my opinions weren't favorable in his eyes so he took it out on me. My mom kicked him out that night. However, he still shows up once in a while and well, you know what happened."

"I had no idea at that minute what Bruce meant by 'different' but I had some sort of inclination that it might have been the fact that he liked guys." Clint finished explaining. "I wonder if I might be able to get Bruce to talk to the police about his father. That is if he ever snaps out of this shocked state."

"It couldn't hurt to try. Are you hungry? I was thinking about making dinner, and I won't accept no for an answer." Nodding in response, Clint walked back to the living room and grabbed Bruce's arm and led him into his room.

Sitting on the bed, Bruce still hadn't said a word, not even a sound of acknowledgement that they were walking towards his room. He just stared off into space, with a look on his face like he was trying to solve an impossible problem. Not knowing what to do, and having these feelings from before. He leaned in and did what he wanted to do since after the first day he met Bruce. Kissed him. Blinking rapidly, Bruce realized that there were lips on his own. Pulling away he noticed the dejected look on Clint's face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how else to snap you out of your own head. I think you got lost in there. Are you okay?"

"No. I want to talk." Bruce said with a fierce tone, one that Clint had never heard from the other teen before.

A/N: Yup. So I finished a chapter. I hope you enjoy it.