"Awww it hasn't been that bad. I could go out if I wanted to. I just... happen to not feel like moving. But I'll take you up on it later. Probably it'll be good for me. I should pick up these life skills before we all run away to 13 to live with the molemen." He tried to add an edge of levity to his voice with this last comment, but he just couldn't muster it. 13 still seemed like an option to Clint, even after nearly a week of being sober. He wasn't sure yet how to make it a viable option, but he'd get there. There was time.
He exhaled hard as Bucky's arm tightened around him, his stomach twisting a little. It was a good question, all things considered, and one that, he realized now, he hadn't thought about enough. "I'd want to," he said softly. "That'd be a goddamn miracle." Especially now, with all the ugliness between them. Jess was probably right that they'd talk again one day, but the possibility seemed so far out of his reach that it might as well have been in 13, too.
Clint nodded a little. "Yeah. You're right. But that doesn't mean it's pleasant. Seems pretty unfair that after all the shit you've been through, life's just conspiring to fuck you over on a day-to-day basis. But it's some damn good advice." Clint smiled over at Trouble, whose tail began to wag wildly, messing up his blanket. "I think I'll take it."