Taking a bite of the brownie, Clint snorted, chewing thoughtfully as she continued to talk. The chocolate was good but it was the high he was looking for. Anything to keep him from focusing on all the shit running through his head. He was used to be locked inside of it but he usually had an outlet and right now he didn't. No flying. No sex. It was a fucking nightmare.
He listened to her story, working his drink. When she was done, he set his glass down on the table and glanced at her. "Some people aren't meant to have kids," he replied. Sounds more than fair to say about someone's mother. Abandonment by a parent was detrimental to a child psyche and Em, for all her posturing, was just a lost kid. Clint rubbed his forehead before taking another drink.
"Everyone has their demons," he muttered, waving another drink over. Deciding a change of topic was needed, he smiled.