Clint Barton is going back to bed. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} today_sucks) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} snapthread, |
Clint got that, the whole thing where being alone was only worse sometimes. And he was good at it too, holing up on his own and sleeping even when he wasn't tired and then waking up tired again because after a while it was a whole thing. Practically a process. Not everyone dealt with bad feelings in the same way, but Clint knew that Bucky already wasn't the most talkative of people. He wasn't gonna seek out help any more than Clint would have.
"Nah," he said, skipping over the jokey parts, because there was no point in really pretending for each other right now. "It was really cool you came out. I've been trying to talk to you all night, dude. Anyway, everyone was invited, so why shouldn't you have come?" He stuck his hearing aid back in, clipping it around the outside of his ear and then thumbed toward across the town square. "But it's late now and a fight's gonna break out. How bout we ditch 'fore they make us clean stuff?"