brandingproblem | open post

"Sounds good."

Except he says that when he moves with Clint. He maintains more or less the same distance between them, but when Clint turns to walk, so does he. Then gestures with one hand in a 'lead the way' sort of way.

Steve said exactly what he meant. He's not here to force Clint back. He said nothing about not wanting Clint back, and didn't even imply he was going to leave.

"I'll let them know when I'm back." It won't be when someone calls him. That would just be pointing a spotlight on Clint, and Steve's not doing that anymore than he's going to just walk away.

"This the game we're gonna play, Cap? Cuz I gotta tell you, I'm not really up for games." He's not going to just lead Steve back to the hovel he's holed himself up in for the time being. Not deliberately, anyway. He glances over, shoots him a cold look. "Go home."

"No."

It's pretty mild, but okay. If Clint wants direct, he'll do it with relief.

"You can come back or you can not, but I'm not leaving you out here alone anymore. It's not working for me and it's not working for you."

"It's working for me just fine. Seems like it's working for me better than anything any of the rest of you are doing is working for any of you, so." Not that he keeps in touch to find out, but he knows that the Avengers, such as they are, aren't exactly avenging much right now. Tony apparently came back from god damn space and then fucked off. Somehow, finally, something they can agree on.

"You're not gonna wanna be here when I'm done with my vacation."

"No." He's flat in tone and expression around that one. "You resent me? I earned it about four billion times over. You wanna target and an excuse?" He holds both his arms out. "You can have it now or when you're done - hell, play it right and you can have both. But you're not gonna stand there and imply that people who are using everything they've got to do something between not die and finding a way to live with this shit are doing something wrong. And you're not gonna convince me that you acting like a cornered wild animal is what working for you looks like."

He spins on his heel to stare at Steve, incensed and hurt in a way he can't articulate. "What in the hell makes you think I resent you?"

Well, gosh, Clint, maybe it's the whole disappearing and going to ground and then becoming a figure of absolute fear and terror and refusing to come home thing.

"I set everything aside to follow you, fighting our own friends, because you asked me to. And I would have done it again, and again, and again." Does he resent Steve for tracking him down, for being here? Fuck, he's not sure he can. "But right here, right now, if what you see is me backed into a corner, it's because you're backing me into one. And that's on you. I just want you to go back home before you get caught up in something you're gonna hate yourself for."

Steve does not have a poker face. 'Are you fucking kidding me right now' is not hard to read on his face.

He still leaves it - for now - because he's incredulous, disbelieving, frustrated about all of it. Probably more the last point than all the rest combined.

"You want an accounting of all the shit I've done that makes what you've got going on not a massive problem for me, or can we just hit the part where my failure lead to half of life on the planet being turned into dust?" He actually kind of growls. "I walk away and I get a report that you succeeded in getting yourself killed, I'm gonna hate myself more. This?" He snorts. "File under Ultron being right about me, because right now I don't have a problem with it. I've got a big problem with losing another person."

Edited 2024-10-31 13:44 (UTC)

"You sanctimonious little shit," which is a funny thing to call someone several inches taller, "you don't get to put the blame of half the universe on your shoulders. Get over yourself, Atlas. You blame Nat for it, too? Rhodes? How about Thor?"

All of whom are going to blame themselves. Because that's the kind of people they are. Clint wishes he could take some blame, but he wasn't anywhere close to it. If anyone had gotten in touch with him, damn the legal system, he would've ripped off his ankle monitor in a heartbeat.

(And then he wouldn't have made a difference and would have gone home to nothingness.)

"Half the universe is not your responsibility. And I'm not your responsibility, either."

There is no rational reason Steve should find Clint calling him a sanctimonious little shit reassuring, but he kind of does. Maybe he'll examine the whys of that later, maybe he won't.

"I might resent Thor just a little right about now," he admits. "I shouldn't, and it's not fair, but I might." Which is too much honesty, but apparently too much honesty is where this conversation is right now. "I'm not here because I think I'm responsible for you. I'm here because you left, didn't tell anyone where you were going, started doing dangerous shit alone and you're my friend, Clint. Whether you want that or not. And since we're here, stop claiming me you'd follow me again when you're actively trying to get rid of me."

He does expect honesty out of Steve, but that's still an admittance he wasn't expecting. Tension between the team, well, that's achingly familiar.

"Would've, past tense." Now? Now he doesn't want to work on a team, follow anyone but himself. Responsible to no one. Nobody to disappoint. None of them to look at him like a monster for doing what nobody else sees fit to do.

"Shockingly, I'm used to doing dangerous shit alone. I can take care of myself. And if you don't want to get your hands dirty, you better stay out of my way."

There's less tension than there is Steve recognizing good and well that Thor needs to be where he is and doing what he's doing, but still being... well, kind of resentful about it. His feelings about Tony - in this one - aren't all that dissimilar.

There is no fucking team. He's got a teenager, a traumatized alien, a raccoon and Natasha. He's never been more lonely in his life, and that is fucking saying something.

"I don't know who you've mistaken me for, but I'm not going to keep going in circles on it. If the options are my hands getting dirty," dirtier, "and getting out of your way, they're just going to get dirty."

He just doesn't buy that. Steve won't join in, and he can't be Captain America even if he somehow does. What he imagines is that Steve's going to keep talking at him, and then when push comes to shove, he's going to be held back by a grip he can't fight his way out of.

"If you're not gonna force me back, you're just gonna, what, follow me around? Be the angel on my shoulder?"

"What I'm going to do is whatever it takes not to have tell Natasha the only person still on earth that she loves is dead."

There's... no varnish or apology or manipulation that. It's as bluntly stated as anything Steve has ever said. He'd point himself out in that equation, but he's pretty sure he already had.

Edited 2024-10-31 14:42 (UTC)

"Don't." The anger is easier to reach for, something to smother the pain at least temporarily. "You don't get to act like this is for her. If she wanted to make damn sure, she'd be here herself."

That's what partners do. She's given him space, and if she were so worried he was going to kill himself doing this, she would be here. Could be that's her confidence in his skills. So much has come after him, and he keeps surviving, every time. A couple of cartels and mobs and yakuza and mafias aren't going to do him in.

But Clint can't act righteous about it, either. He doesn't want that love, that care or pity. He can't face it. Can't take kindness. That's not for him anymore, and if he could just explain that instead of all the words getting jumbled up and stoppered up in his throat--

"Stop giving a shit about me," he growls. It's like telling the sun to stop shining, he knows, but it barrels out of him anyway. "Better for everyone if you just let me disappear."

Steve doesn't need the words. There are some gaps in his specifics, but he's trying to make this about other people for reasons. That he'd rather take another high dive off a high rise than admit that he's here because he needs Clint at least within reach is creating some issues.

"All right. Let's play out where this goes in your head. I stop giving a shit about you. "Not possible Clint. He can't stop loving people, but for the sake of conversation. "I leave you alone and go back to the Compound. Then I'm doing what?" Besides what wasn't working for them (him).

Edited 2024-10-31 15:12 (UTC)

"You go back to whatever it is you were already doing with the rest of your life. You stop chasing ghosts. You..." The irony could make him gag. It makes him want to crawl into the deepest, darkest hole he can find. But he can't let himself do that, either. "You let go, of the version of me you thought you knew. The man's dead."

Or at least buried under so much pain as to be unrecognizable.

He isn't sure he's been less comfortable in a conversation in his life. He'd probably prefer dealing with being disemboweled at this point. He'd definitely prefer any physical fight.

"You wanna go ahead and tell me what life you think I'm getting back to? My life stopped in 1945. I almost got something back with the team when that was a thing. Fights, ghosts, and giving a shit are what I've got."

He might, just might, know something about the person you were being dead. He might also know a thing or two about sticking with someone else who's been profoundly damaged to the point of becoming dangerous.

Yeah. Yeah, okay. Steve might know a thing or three about all of that. He put everything on the line for Bucky, the last remnant of what he had before the ice. Clint had helped.

And now that's gone, too, and whatever fucked up family's been cobbled together is what's left.

"Stubborn son of a bitch." In another context, it would be fond. It nearly is, the quiet, calm manner Clint says it. He keeps walking, then, expecting Steve will keep following.

"You know what the Ronin gets up to, Steve?" He didn't pick the name, but it's a fitting moniker nevertheless. If he insists on hanging around, he better know what he's in for.

Steve is actively grateful for Clint leaving it there. Almost more so for Clint stopping his active attempts to get rid of him. He... hates being that kind of exposed and honest. He could just about, sometimes, half admit something sideways to Sam. That had been about as good as it had ever gotten.

There's real relief in just moving on, regardless of what it's moving on to.

And yeah, he's following. "I've got a pattern of targets and results. I don't have methods and I sure as shit don't have the plan for here, though the target's pretty obvious."

It's a practical thing. Digging into Steve's baggage means turnabout is fair play. Clint likes to think tactical, though. If he really wants to give a good effort to piss Steve off, chase him away, he can pick a moment to go digging claws into it full swing.

No matter what man he is now, though, he doesn't have the intention of hurting the people who were friends and family to him.

"Results are real brutal. But effective. Pretty sure the likes of Captain America wouldn't approve."

If Clint comes out swinging, Steve'll either swipe back or won't. There's no real way to predict from where he is right now. He's not going to waste time or energy think about it.

Just walk, and listen and then snort. "I'm not gettin' back on that merry go around." He's pretty sure Clint believes it. He's willing to entertain that Clint might even be right. He doubts Clint's completely right, though.

"I'm not trying to stop you doing what you need to do or gonna get in your way. How about you let me sorry about the state of my hands, or soul, or approval or whatever this is. I just need enough of a plan that I can at least stay out of your way."

"Y'know, there's a real easy thing you can do to stay out of my way," Clint snaps. Which is not happening. He shakes his head. "You're not coming on this op, if that's what you're thinking. If all you wanna do is play guardian angel, then you're gonna be real bored."

Steve's pretty clear done engaging with all levels of this discussion. They've reached some kind of agreement, that neither one of them's quite happy with. Clint's dealing with Steve being there, Steve's dealing with getting out of Clint's way but not taking him home.

He'll revisit if something changes.

"I'll find a book."

"Fine. Twiddle your thumbs until it's time to move."

He's not taking Steve to whatever his next destination is. They walk for a time--mostly because Clint still isn't sure that he's taking Steve anywhere. If he can find somewhere to ditch him, all the better.

"You don't have better shit to be doing than following me around? What happens after this? Go globetrotting after me until, what?"

He might actually be just fed-up enough, and enough himself, that he'd pointedly settle in and actually twiddle his thumbs.

Not at the moment, though.

He shrugs, slightly. "Bounce between you and Nat at the Compound, I guess. Everybody's else is managing to build some kind of life for themselves." It just is what it is. Run a damn support group while he's back there, maybe. Something.

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