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Tweak says, "But he slimed me egon!"

likeyourwheels (likeyourwheels) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-10-25 00:03:00

Entry tags:

canton everett delaware iii, clint barton

WHO: Canton E. Delaware III & Clint Barton
WHAT: Clint's been avoiding everyone as best he can, and Canton is determined to make him stop running.
WHEN: October 23rd [backdated]
WHERE: Stark Tower; Clint's floor
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

Canton had wanted to talk to Clint since the whole memories issue had wound down, and their memories had been restored to them. He had wanted to, but actually managing to get near Clint was proving to be an utterly difficult task. The man was a master assassin, skilled at covert ops and stealth reconnaissance. The vents had been a given, perhaps, but getting into them was utterly impossible for Canton, and after that, locating Clint had proved to be a matter of one step too slow, one step behind. It was only by utterly freak timing that Canton actually managed to make it into Stark Tower and up to Clint’s floor without doing anything that might have sent the other man fleeing into hiding once more.

Striding into the open rooms, Canton was careful to be as quiet as he possibly could be before he managed to actually get himself into a position where he could block a retreat should there be one. He and Clint needed to talk. He wasn’t entirely sure what was forcing the man into silence and avoidance, but he didn’t want to just get pushed away if Clint was determined that there was “nothing” to talk about. As much as pressing the matter might make things worse, Canton didn’t see what choice he had at the moment.

If Clint kept this up, he was going to end up collapsing in on himself again, and as much as that might help him to get the worse of it out of his system, Canton didn’t particularly want him to reach that sort of end if it could be helped.

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tobeunmade
2012-10-25 08:50 pm UTC (link)

The fact was Clint hated Meg. She had strung him up. She had tortured him. She'd cut him open and broken his bones and tore him apart. She'd gouged out his eyes and cut off his hand, and though the former had healed the stump where his hand had been was a constant reminder of what she'd done. She had broken him, and not just physically. She had taken the one thing that mattered, the one thing about him that was worth anything and she had destroyed it. And now she was destroying the only other thing that mattered, and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't look at Canton without thinking of how he had betrayed him. Logically he knew that he couldn't be held accountable for something he had done when he hadn't even known the other man, but that did nothing to ease his guilt. For all that it seemed he was trying to hurt Canton with his words, the disgust and the loathing was directed firmly at himself.

But he knew that Canton had his own insecurities, his own worries and fears, and he couldn't help digging into them with spiteful words, hoping to push the other man enough that he would finally leave and give up on him. That was what experience had taught him. Push hard enough and people would stop caring. Even Phil wasn't immune, and for the longest time he had thought his handler was the exception. But things had been tangibly different since Loki and he could see that something was broken between them even if Phil - Coulson, his mind corrected - refused to acknowledge it. Why should Canton be any different than anyone else? Why should he prove to be the one exception? If Phil, the one person he would have sworn would always have his back for years, gave up on him because of Loki, why should he ever believe that a man he'd known a few months would be any different?

But Canton refused to leave. No matter what Clint threw at him, he stayed and the understanding and compassion tore at something in Clint. He didn't deserve this. He was a mess. He was broken. He was worthless. All he did was hurt people and he'd hurt Canton and for some reason the older man was still there and showed no signs of leaving and it made no sense. The softly spoken words and accompanying touch provoked a violent shudder as he flinched away, his breathing speeding up. "Control," he said with a bitter laugh that broke off into a choked noise. "I can't control anything anymore. I can't even control myself. Loki. Meg. These things keep getting inside me, twisting me around until I'm not sure who I am anymore."

He curled back in on himself, feeling too vulnerable even as the words spilled out. And these were somehow worse than the other ones. "When she was in me," he began, choking on the words. But Canton wasn't leaving and he was so fucking tired. After a long moment, he took a shaky breath and tried again. "If I hadn't slept with her, she never would have known about the tattoo to break it. I knew there was...something about her, but I ignored my instincts. I was stupid. I was so fucking stupid. And...when she was in me...when she clawed her way inside...it was like I got shoved into this place where there was no control. There was nothing to hold on to. And it was worse than Loki because I knew I didn't want it, but there was no way to fight it." He knew he wasn't making any sense, but he couldn't stop the flow of words. "And I just...I keep losing myself. And I don't know how much more I can take before there's nothing left. And I can't help but feel like...what's the point? I can't stop it. I can't do anything. And I'm so tired of fighting. I just want it all to stop."

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likeyourwheels
2012-10-25 09:30 pm UTC (link)

And there they were, the heart of the problem. Sleeping with Meg had been a domino, one that contributed to the problem as a whole -- and Canton imagined, with the way that he had thrown it out, made Clint feel as though he had ruined their fledgling relationship in a way that he simply couldn't have accounted for -- and yet, barely scratched the surface of the issue. As Clint violently flinched away from him, Canton froze, his hand lingering in the air where Clint's body had been a moment before before his fingers curled up into a ball and his hand dropped away. He didn't want to make Clint worse, and the way that he appeared to be panicking, not only from the touch but from the very things he was saying, Canton knew that he didn't need to go testing limits right now.

"Clint," Canton whispered, reaching out and gently lifting up Tripod from where she was curled up, settling her on the other side of him as he shifted as close to Clint as he could get while still leaving enough room between them for Clint to breath, settling himself down on the same physical level as the other man as he tried to provide a presence while at the same time giving him space. The curious and confused mewling of Tripod as she pawed at Canton's leg, seemingly annoyed at being separated from Clint by the large lumpy man in between them, peppered the air as Canton continued. "There's always a point. I know you can't see it right now, and considering everything that you've gone through, everything that's been forced on you and that you've had to deal with not only since being here but before that, not being able to see it is more than understandable," He stopped, casting a long, quiet look at Clint for a moment before taking a deep breath. "And if you need to block out the world for a time to keep what's left of your sanity intact until you can figure out how to push through or find a reason to, I'll understand. But I wish you wouldn't try and push me away when I want to be here, when I need to be here for you."

Perhaps it was selfish, trying to push in when Clint had told him that he didn't want him there, but part of Canton knew that Clint didn't mean that, not entirely, not in the way that he likely was trying to make it seem like. He wasn't entirely sure, but Canton could only hope that Clint hadn't given up on them entirely just because of how he thought Canton was going to react to the idea of him sleeping with Meg.

"I won't say it's all fine, Clint," Canton said softly after a moment. "Because it does hurt, what you'd said, what you've tried to do to push me away from you, but I'm not Bobbi. I'm not going to leave just because you're lashing out because at the end of the day, this is much more about how you're hurting than it is about how you're trying to make me hurt."

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tobeunmade
2012-10-29 10:15 am UTC (link)

Clint didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think. Because he had thrown everything at Canton, shown the man all the worst parts of him, and he was still there. And Clint had tried to push him away, he had. He'd tried as hard as he could. But nothing seemed to work. It confused Clint, because that wasn't how relationships worked. If you pushed too much or too hard, if things became too complicated or if you just weren't good enough, they left. That was just how it went. He knew it and he accepted it. But Canton kept screwing things up by staying. By refusing to give up on him, even though it should have been obvious that Clint wasn't worth fighting for. He was broken, damaged in more ways than he could count. Canton deserved better. They all deserved better, but especially Canton.

"Why are you even here?" The words were quietly spoken, no longer angry so much as confused and resigned. He was so tired and he didn't know if he could keep doing this. Canton kept acting like this was okay, like it could ever be okay, and Clint couldn't take much more of this patient understanding. "Don't you get it? I'm damaged. There's something broken in me. And...you can't fix it. So what's the point? Please tell me what the point is, because I don't see it. I don't know who I am anymore. This place and these things...these people that keep digging their way into my head...I can't keep doing this. I can't. Every time I feel like maybe, just maybe, I can get through it, it happens all over again. So tell me...what's the goddamn point, Canton? There has to be a reason why...a reason why this keeps happening to me...something wrong with me that they can see. Because it keeps happening. I don't trust myself...I can't trust myself...and if you were smart, you wouldn't either. One day I'm going to get you killed, I know I will, and if that happens...I swear to god, I'll put a bullet in my head if someone else doesn't beat me to it."

The very thought of hurting Canton was too much for him to take. It was why he had pushed so hard to try to get rid of the older man. Even though they hadn't known each other long, he knew he cared about him and he couldn't stand to lose him. "They should have killed me when Loki was in my head," he said quietly. "They would have been better off for it. Phil would have been alive. They would have stopped him without so many people dying. And it keeps happening. There's no way to stop it. I'm dangerous. I'm a liability. I can still feel Meg under my skin. I think she'll always be there." He closed his eyes and tried to breath past the tightness in his chest.

"But Loki is worse...he'll always be worse," he admitted. "Because...the way I felt with him there wasn't any different from how I always felt when I had a mission. Focused on a target. The only difference was who was giving the orders. And that's why I'll never know...why I'll never be able to trust myself. Because I can never know if I'm doing something because I want to or because he does." He wanted reassurance, but he couldn't bear to look at Canton. "That's why you can't fix this. That's why you should stop trying and leave. Because the only thing that can fix this is someone putting me out of my misery, and I'm pretty sure you won't do that. Because...you're right. You're not like Bobbi. Bobbi was smart enough to recognize a lost cause."

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likeyourwheels
2012-10-29 04:30 pm UTC (link)

"The point," Canton started, feeling an itch under his skin to hold Clint, to wrap his arms around him and pull him close. There was a hesitation in him to do such a thing, but he could feel his willpower quickly failing, and even as Clint had twitched away from his touch before, Canton could only hope that such a thing wouldn't happen again now that the worst of the rage seemed to have filtered out of Clint. He just sounded...tired now. Tired in a way that pulled at Canton's heart and made him wish that he knew what the solution was. "The point," He started again as he leveled Clint with a deep and concerned look, "is the small things. You're broken, Clint. I'm not going to tell you you're not when it would be a lie. You've been battered, abused, mistreated, chewed up, spit back out, tugged back and forth, and controlled by things outside of yourself so much that it would have been impossible for you to come out unscathed. But just because you're broken doesn't mean that you're destroyed."

Shifting closer to Clint, a slight caution in his movements, Canton reached out slowly and curled his arms around Clint, gathering him up and pulling him against his chest. Canton expected to be fought, to have some push back to his actions, and had braced himself accordingly, but until that happened, he pushed on with what he was saying.

"Maybe," Canton whispered, pressing his lips lightly to Clint's temple before settling his chin on the other man's shoulder as he held him, "maybe the key to this isn't trying to fix the damage but figuring out a way to live with it as best you can. I know it's not a perfect plan," Canton said, feeling a painful pull in his chest at the idea of someone putting Clint out of his misery, "and that most of the stuff is both maddening and something that will linger forever, but you're strong, CLint. So strong. So much stronger than you even realize, and maybe I'm a little bias, but that doesn't make things any less true. There are positives in your life, things you can draw on to try and fill in the cracks that they've made. It's not going to be perfect, but it can hold. You've got friends who love you, who need and care about you, and maybe they're not always the best at showing it, but your bunch is pretty much composed of socially awkward misfits. I wouldn't expect them to ever know the right thing to say in situations that aren't enough to leave most people completely at a loss much less a situation that none of you have ever had to deal with before. But you're not a lost cause, Clint. I see that. They see that. And you're surrounded by people who want to help you. They just don't know how. Even I'm not really sure what I should do, and I doubt me constantly running off at the mouth like this does any good. Does it?"

As the question fell between them another mewl from Canton's side punctuated the feeling of sharp kitten claws digging into his skin, and after a bit of excruciating pain, his point was illustrated rather nicely as Tripod crawled up over his thigh and scrambled down into Clint's lap, curling up against him.

"See. Even the tiny, furry ones don't want to leave your side."

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tobeunmade
2012-11-14 08:31 am UTC (link)

Clint knew on a logical level that everything Canton was saying made sense. And he wanted to believe it. He wanted that more than anything. He was tired of feeling so utterly broken down and hopeless. But it was hard. It felt as though he'd reached this point where so many things had hit him and he was past his ability to fight it all. He'd tried so hard for so long to keep everything together, and he just couldn't keep it up any more. It helped that Canton acknowledged his damage without demeaning it or pretending it was anything other than it was. He wasn't stupid. This wasn't something easily fixed. Most days, trying to repair the damage of the past months felt like putting a bandaid over a shotgun blast. But Canton was here, trying, and he wasn't giving up on him. No matter how hard Clint tried to make him walk away, the other man stayed. And that helped. Not a lot, but it helped.

With anyone else he would have fought. He didn't particularly want to be touched, and he certainly didn't want someone else initiating it without warning, but with Canton there was only a brief struggle before he went limp against the other man and just let himself be held. He didn't want to fight. He was tired of fighting. It felt like all he'd done lately was fight, and he was through with it. So he just let himself be. Let Canton try to comfort him.

"What if I can't?" he asked softly after a long moment, a hesitance to the words. "What if..." He trailed off with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. He was so tired. "What if...I'm not strong enough to do that? I know you think I'm strong...but I'm not. I'm really not." If he was strong, he would have stood up to his father. To Swordsman and Trickshot. If he was strong, he'd never have lost himself to Loki or Meg. Barney and Phil and so many other people wouldn't have died. Clint was many things, but he'd never seen himself as especially strong. "I...I'm trying here. I know it doesn't look like it, but I am. If it weren't for you guys...if it weren't for you...I would have thrown myself off a building months ago. I know I would have. I would have found a way to kill myself in that warehouse...or just laid there and let myself die." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes against a sharp wave of emotion. "You...it does a lot of good. It does. I just...I'm not sure it'll ever be enough. I want it too. But I can't help feeling this way. I don't want to...god knows you deserve better...but it's just how I feel." He sighed. "But I'm glad you're here. I don't know what I'd do without you."

When Tripod forced her way between them, Clint let out watery laugh and reached down to pet the kitten with shaking hands. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said softly, not sure if he was talking to the cat or the man next to him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. You know I didn't. I'll never get sick of you." Tripod purred contentedly, and Clint shook as he let go of the tension that held him still and collapsed further into Canton's hold.

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likeyourwheels
2012-11-14 09:34 am UTC (link)

The fear, the hesitation, the exhaustion, all of it was unsurprising to Canton after the venom that Clint had been working out of himself since their conversation had started. Anger so often faded into exhaustion particularly when you were already tired to begin with. Clint had already been damaged upon arrival, a fact that had been reinforced by the presence of his captor in this city, and had proceeded to be beaten, battered, and abused simply for doing his job, getting caught up in the same shit that the rest of them were in, or merely existing in some cases. It was far more than he should have had to endure, far more than anyone should have had to endure, and the very fact that he was still standing was, as far as Canton was concerned, a testament to his strength. He'd kept going, even if it was only for the people in his life, through everything, through the pain and the fear and the uncertainty, and that was so much more than some people could manage.

"I know, Clint," Canton said, trailing a hand lightly down Clint's arm and side to try and smooth some of the tension one of him. "Someone would have to be blind and dumb to not see that you're trying despite the struggle. You're coping the best ways you know how, and as long as you're eventually willing to let us take on some of that burden for you, you'll make it through," Canton said, pressing another kiss to Clint's temple as he sat there quietly with him for a moment, smiling gently at Clint's reaction to Tripod forcing her way back next to him and tucking himself tighter around his lover at Clint pressed into him.

"You know," Canton started after a moment, running a hand lightly through Clint's hair to try and sooth him, "no matter what you think I deserve, what you feel...you might be lacking, you're wonderful, damage, baggage, doubts and all," That said, Canton let it linger, the quiet internal debate raging inside him before he sighed lightly. There was no sense in trying to hold it back when he knew it was true. "I wouldn't know what to do without you, either. So... Keep trying. Please?"

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