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( the words reach her ears, but wanda doesn't feel the emotion that hits her at the admittance first. the tight squeeze to her hand is what she feels instead, thoughts railing in her mind emptily, trying to grasp at what all exactly clint is saying—almost like his words make no sense to her, cannot be made sense of. it explains so much about why clint is asking the way he is, why he cannot seem to contain himself within the presence of a man he used to be; why he clings to solitude and anger the way he does, almost treating her approaches to help and be there for him as unwanted.
it just makes sense, even if it seems to wanda that there is more here than what he tells. these 'circumstances' that are 'complicated to get into'. things from her future that will come to pass, but should not be burdened by.
a future where natasha is dead?
for all their most recent conflict with the avengers splitting up, she was vaguely aware that natasha changed her mind. natasha, who took her in, who helped her assimilate to life in america, taught her the ropes, despite her grief and moodiness; natasha is dead? the way her emotions cave in is from the shock, her eyes only now glancing up to look at clint's face proper, tears threatening to spill; she feels empty, devoid of anything, because this is how clint feels.
standing up (she somehow finds herself still attached to the laws of gravity, by some miracle), wanda pulls her hand away from clint's, but draws only a few steps closer to lean down, to wrap her arms around his shoulders. )
I'm here.
( i don't know what help looks like. for something like that.
when wanda lost pietro, nothing felt right. nothing would ever make it right. what does help for that look like? she didn't know, either, back then. now, she still doesn't know. just putting one foot in front of the other, one day at a time. but clint was there, as was steve, vision, natasha. maybe she won't be able to help at all with these feelings, with this reality that awaits her in the future, that awaits them back home, but—
she's here. )
it just makes sense, even if it seems to wanda that there is more here than what he tells. these 'circumstances' that are 'complicated to get into'. things from her future that will come to pass, but should not be burdened by.
a future where natasha is dead?
for all their most recent conflict with the avengers splitting up, she was vaguely aware that natasha changed her mind. natasha, who took her in, who helped her assimilate to life in america, taught her the ropes, despite her grief and moodiness; natasha is dead? the way her emotions cave in is from the shock, her eyes only now glancing up to look at clint's face proper, tears threatening to spill; she feels empty, devoid of anything, because this is how clint feels.
standing up (she somehow finds herself still attached to the laws of gravity, by some miracle), wanda pulls her hand away from clint's, but draws only a few steps closer to lean down, to wrap her arms around his shoulders. )
I'm here.
( i don't know what help looks like. for something like that.
when wanda lost pietro, nothing felt right. nothing would ever make it right. what does help for that look like? she didn't know, either, back then. now, she still doesn't know. just putting one foot in front of the other, one day at a time. but clint was there, as was steve, vision, natasha. maybe she won't be able to help at all with these feelings, with this reality that awaits her in the future, that awaits them back home, but—
she's here. )
[He doesn't know what else to start with. Hard to get into the family's been gone for years or you've been gone for years or I don't remember how you feel about Vision right now but he's dead and gone, but this one, this one he feels brightly, a fresh pain that he knows means the world to Wanda as well. He knows this hurts her, cuts her deep, and even now, it feels unfair to drop that on her unprompted. Does the sharing make the load any lighter? Or does it just weigh them both down the same?
But she's here.
Wanda pulls her hand away, and that's fair, he thinks, fair that she might stalk away, take time to herself, resent him for this unbidden knowledge--but she remains. She is here. Her arms wrap around him, and they share in the pain, and she's here.
A dam cracks, a scab rips off, a precariously perched box falls and spills its contents everywhere. She's here, and they can share the pain, and suddenly it's hard to breathe, hard to see around the sting in his eyes. His arms feel like heavy lead, but they make their way up, tentative at first and then more sure, around Wanda.]
Thank you. [Wet and thick and heavy and choked out. She's here. In spite of everything. Because of everything. A friendship he needs to not take for granted, and distance will not save them. His breath stutters.] 'm sorry. [For not trusting her, for not trusting himself, for doing this to her, for not doing it sooner. That Natasha is gone. That it's his fault, even if Wanda doesn't know that yet.]
But she's here.
Wanda pulls her hand away, and that's fair, he thinks, fair that she might stalk away, take time to herself, resent him for this unbidden knowledge--but she remains. She is here. Her arms wrap around him, and they share in the pain, and she's here.
A dam cracks, a scab rips off, a precariously perched box falls and spills its contents everywhere. She's here, and they can share the pain, and suddenly it's hard to breathe, hard to see around the sting in his eyes. His arms feel like heavy lead, but they make their way up, tentative at first and then more sure, around Wanda.]
Thank you. [Wet and thick and heavy and choked out. She's here. In spite of everything. Because of everything. A friendship he needs to not take for granted, and distance will not save them. His breath stutters.] 'm sorry. [For not trusting her, for not trusting himself, for doing this to her, for not doing it sooner. That Natasha is gone. That it's his fault, even if Wanda doesn't know that yet.]
( when clint wraps his arms around her, she presses closer. the position is awkward, so she stops leaning down towards him; instead, she straightens, stays close, and keeps her arms at his back, rubbing gentle circles there. it's strange to see the strong men in her life break down, and though clint had always been more emotive in his discontent of things unlike the guarded steve and logical vision, she had never seen him falter to this extent. stuttered breaths and wet words, holding on like it's what he so desperately needs.
wanda knows loss. she is so intrinsically tied to death, since she was ten, that the concept of a 'happy family' or a 'home' to return to feels like a fairy tale. but even if clint hadn't faced the mortality of his loved ones until recently, it doesn't make it any less painful, any less powerful.
she manages to keep herself steeled. only a few tears spill down her cheeks, as clint's pain becomes louder and louder, so much so that wanda has no intention of shutting down. it'll take a few days for it to sink in, given that since she hasn't experienced it, it doesn't feel real to her. )
Don't.
( clint had said something similar to her, i'm sorry, when she had found pietro's body in SHIELD's custody. it wasn't kept a secret from her, at the time, that pietro had died saving clint and costel. wanda never considered it his fault, even if in her darkest hours she wanted to find someone to blame (herself, by the way). she cannot imagine that any of this is clint's fault.
she continues to rub circles on his back, and, after a sniffle, says, )
Is this why you're so often at the Dome?
( getting your ass kicked? tossing out your pent-up rage and pain? wanda doesn't feel ready to ask how it all happened, why it happened. she doesn't think it would be fair to force clint to relive it. )
wanda knows loss. she is so intrinsically tied to death, since she was ten, that the concept of a 'happy family' or a 'home' to return to feels like a fairy tale. but even if clint hadn't faced the mortality of his loved ones until recently, it doesn't make it any less painful, any less powerful.
she manages to keep herself steeled. only a few tears spill down her cheeks, as clint's pain becomes louder and louder, so much so that wanda has no intention of shutting down. it'll take a few days for it to sink in, given that since she hasn't experienced it, it doesn't feel real to her. )
Don't.
( clint had said something similar to her, i'm sorry, when she had found pietro's body in SHIELD's custody. it wasn't kept a secret from her, at the time, that pietro had died saving clint and costel. wanda never considered it his fault, even if in her darkest hours she wanted to find someone to blame (herself, by the way). she cannot imagine that any of this is clint's fault.
she continues to rub circles on his back, and, after a sniffle, says, )
Is this why you're so often at the Dome?
( getting your ass kicked? tossing out your pent-up rage and pain? wanda doesn't feel ready to ask how it all happened, why it happened. she doesn't think it would be fair to force clint to relive it. )
Sometimes.
[If she doesn't want his apologies, he'll try to refrain from giving them. Natasha was a sister to her; hell, at the end of the day, she was around for Wanda more than Clint had been after his (first) retirement. There's a thought--
Jesus, there's a thought that in a place as crazy as this, what if Natasha were to come rolling into town?
But he tucks that hope/fear back. He's at the Dome for a reason, for reasons, none of them good. He doesn't need the extra money, even if that's never a bad thing. He has a violence in him that needs quenched. Not an addiction, but still some kind of need or desire to do more than just shoot from a distance. It helps the bubble of anger-grief from boiling out of control. And it helps him focus. Narrows everything down to just him and his opponent. Keeps him sharp, keeps him on his toes. Makes everything else fall away for a while.
And the pain. Pain's good for focus, too. In a way he's not sure he could explain, even if he wanted to. And why shouldn't he get hit from time to time? He can take it. He deserves it.
Wanda isn't going to judge him. Still, he feels he should warn her, explain just a little:] Been in a bad place for a couple years. 's not easy to just extract yourself from that. Or to even want to.
[If she doesn't want his apologies, he'll try to refrain from giving them. Natasha was a sister to her; hell, at the end of the day, she was around for Wanda more than Clint had been after his (first) retirement. There's a thought--
Jesus, there's a thought that in a place as crazy as this, what if Natasha were to come rolling into town?
But he tucks that hope/fear back. He's at the Dome for a reason, for reasons, none of them good. He doesn't need the extra money, even if that's never a bad thing. He has a violence in him that needs quenched. Not an addiction, but still some kind of need or desire to do more than just shoot from a distance. It helps the bubble of anger-grief from boiling out of control. And it helps him focus. Narrows everything down to just him and his opponent. Keeps him sharp, keeps him on his toes. Makes everything else fall away for a while.
And the pain. Pain's good for focus, too. In a way he's not sure he could explain, even if he wanted to. And why shouldn't he get hit from time to time? He can take it. He deserves it.
Wanda isn't going to judge him. Still, he feels he should warn her, explain just a little:] Been in a bad place for a couple years. 's not easy to just extract yourself from that. Or to even want to.
( it's only when there's a more grounded semblance of balance on their emotions that wanda draws back, one hand left on clint's shoulder, as she moves to sit down—chair a little closer to him now. she studies his face momentarily, wondering if she'll be able to catch on to what goes unsaid.
sometimes is hardly an answer, but it seems like all he can get himself to say about it.
letting go, her hand down onto her lap, wanda leans back on her chair.
listens— )
You make the future sound really awful.
( —shakes her head, looking down at her hands. )
Clint — I don't want you to feel like you have to be perfectly fine for my sake. None of us are. You're allowed to be this.
( this version of himself, whatever it's supposed to be. whatever it's supposed to hide, protect, keep close so that he doesn't crumble. )
sometimes is hardly an answer, but it seems like all he can get himself to say about it.
letting go, her hand down onto her lap, wanda leans back on her chair.
listens— )
You make the future sound really awful.
( —shakes her head, looking down at her hands. )
Clint — I don't want you to feel like you have to be perfectly fine for my sake. None of us are. You're allowed to be this.
( this version of himself, whatever it's supposed to be. whatever it's supposed to hide, protect, keep close so that he doesn't crumble. )
[Her assessment of the future is rewarded with a tired cough of laughter, a barely-there wry pull of his mouth. Yeah, that's cuz the future sucks, but he doesn't say that. Doesn't say that yet, anyway. It's hard to know if that's even okay. She's happy here. What happens if she doesn't go back? What happens if she can't? What happens if she won't? She's happy here. She doesn't need all of that on her shoulders.
Maybe he doesn't need all this on his, either. He just doesn't know how to let it go.]
You were always welcome at home, on the farm. You know that, right? [After the original team became brand new uncles to the kids, that expanded to the new team, too. All good people who might sometimes need a little time living a slightly more rustic life chopping wood and running the tractor and feeding the chickens.] You're always welcome here, too. Or wherever I am. Even if I'm being a surly bastard about it.
Maybe he doesn't need all this on his, either. He just doesn't know how to let it go.]
You were always welcome at home, on the farm. You know that, right? [After the original team became brand new uncles to the kids, that expanded to the new team, too. All good people who might sometimes need a little time living a slightly more rustic life chopping wood and running the tractor and feeding the chickens.] You're always welcome here, too. Or wherever I am. Even if I'm being a surly bastard about it.
Worse.
It's people soup.
Like two diffusion zones are trying to form on top of each other. People are melded half into buildings. Ground's soft. Buildings are soft. You spend any time there, you start melting into shit too.
It's people soup.
Like two diffusion zones are trying to form on top of each other. People are melded half into buildings. Ground's soft. Buildings are soft. You spend any time there, you start melting into shit too.
Everything's quicksand? We have a fucking quicksand dimension now?
Where are you
Where are you
ARE YOU AT SOUP?
Where are you relative to literally anything besides just fringes?
Compass direction, distance from city
If you're texting me from soup I applaud your ability to spell under the circumstances.
Where are you relative to literally anything besides just fringes?
Compass direction, distance from city
If you're texting me from soup I applaud your ability to spell under the circumstances.
( Frank does not know the memes. Frank does not get the joke. )
Why do I get the feeling if I tell you, you're gonna come to soup?
Why do I get the feeling if I tell you, you're gonna come to soup?
Because if you're in trouble in the people soup then I'm going to help you out of the people soup.
I'm not in the soup. I'm on the outside of the soup.
( For now. )
( For now. )
Are you going INTO soup because after the truly horrifying string of sentences you warned me with I have to advise against it.
And when you and the horse you fucked in on get souped, who is going to unsoup you? Nobody. Because it's all soup.
I'll be fine. I'm not gonna get souped. Jesus Christ.
Yeah because you won't wade into the soup.
Look, those assholes we've been tracking down are taking advantage of the soup. I'm handling it.
I didn't know they'd be here. Happy little accident.
Bunch of people with good intentions are showing up trying to save people from the soup, like you can save a man that's got half his brain and both his lungs merged with a steel support beam.
Good samaritans are practically catnip for them.
Don't worry sweetheart, you know how much I love your bow. Don't have eyes for any other bow but yours.
Bunch of people with good intentions are showing up trying to save people from the soup, like you can save a man that's got half his brain and both his lungs merged with a steel support beam.
Good samaritans are practically catnip for them.
Don't worry sweetheart, you know how much I love your bow. Don't have eyes for any other bow but yours.
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