#verse; clint barton; to boldly go (ss; crisispider)

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@nyhura

It felt good to have gotten into the kitchen to see what fresh ingredients had been procured from the last port instead of replicating anything. He much preferred food this way than replicated, it's more a thought thing than a taste thing (it's a little bit of taste-texture thing for him). Clint smiles down to the broth after Uhura compliments him, switching over to sign as he had once back in the academy off-handedly mentioned preferring. « I promise I have not been avoiding the day crew ⸻ Good to sit with you »

He considers her question, and any one would know it even after the time they've known each other that Clint kept every to his chest except with Peter and Leonard. And he talked a lot about Peter instead of his own life.

« Me. My brother. I was seven when mom died. So she taught me toast. ⸻ I grew up fending for me. You ate if you cooked for you where we went after that. It is okay I made peace. »

He adds the last part because he expects the pitying look, to know that not everyone had someone to take care of them when they were kids. They got sad eyes, and Clint didn't need that. He decides to talk more about cooking.

« I like cooking. ZEN. It helps with my things. ⸻ B-O-B-B-I could work in lab and mix chemicals couldn't boil water for cooking. I cooked for my ex wife a lot. »

Sometimes he thinks about her, where she was now and wishes that he could have salvaged something with her. « Cook for Peter when I can. Prefer to cook. ⸻ you cook any? »

nyota couldn't agree more. while she herself was not gifted in any way when it came to cooking, she knew good food when she tasted it. the meals here were primarily designed to sustain and energize the crew, not exactly to treat them to a five star dinner. if any of them wanted anything more suited to their palate or reminded them of home, they were free to put together their own meals in their quarters. setting down the utensils, she signs to clint; << i find it to be true. thanks for joining me. >> after a couple more spoonfuls, she asks; << who taught you to cook? >>

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@danversiism he knows what you are carol; a captain crusher -> [ continued ]

THAT WAS ALMOST TOO EASY ⸻ She must really need that cup of coffee right now if the mouth-brain filter is letting big clumps of truth out. THE PROS AND CONS OF CRUSHING ⸻ oh, she's been thinking about this or more specifically about him, at least more once. The corner of his right lip curls because she's given him gold to hoard ⸺ harass (as a friend would) about this.

❝ Oh, oh what was that? ⸻ Do I need to turn my hearing aids up? ❞ THAT WAS THE SOUND OF DENIAL ⸻ for a totally true accusation. ❝ And I definitely don't have my underwear on backwards. ❞ Which following the line of conversation, would mean that his underwear was on backwards.

no OTHER benefit ⸻ and he got her again. Clint's definitely all too proud of himself, ❝ So there are benefits and the Captain hasn't flirted with me ⸺ ❞ Granted Clint's not the best at noticing when men flirt with him (even if he's got a boyfriend as of present). ❝ So CON, no coffee benefits. That's disappointing, and ONE, need two more for the cons and three more for the PROS, Danvers. ❞

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your muse in star trek

yes, i did edit on Clint's hearing aid cause its necessary // let me just ping all of you too; @crisispider, @hopeburns, @thefleetsfinest, @nyhura, @neonwebs, @danversiism, @biitchcakes, @darehearts, @prcspcr

Clint Barton (Helmsman) &&& Linda Carter (Doctor)

tagged by; @masteredlegacy (thank you so much!)

tagging; @averageborn, @ascendgravity, @brooklynbred, @cosmicrayed, @de2thletter (i know you just liked thiss, but also do one of these for your other muses), @gwenbiote, @herbalwarlock, @liibertysdream, @pathlit, @respondedinkind, @soulgiven, @thefastestaround, @voluntadfuerte, and more (just saying hi, ignore this if you'd like / don't need to know star trek), and you the viewer at home! steal it!

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@biitchcakes -> gets him being dumb. he's the worst. (special mention @danversiism)

❝ WAIT ⸻ Danvers, why are you wearing that color uniform? Don't tell me you've become lab rat !!! ⸻ Holy shit, you're not Carol! Your face is all wrong. ❞

And this is how helmsman Clint Barton was absolutely going to get punched today.

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The best damn news of the year was when Peter Parker's assignment came through, and it happened to be where Clint's been for the past, time bleeds together, another reason why actually hated being on a starship in space. Artificial day/night cycles. The coffee is not good (do not argue him on this).

Deep down, he knows he should be grateful for the opportunities he has had. That he should feel so lucky for where he was, his brother reminded him of that often (which he wouldn't be do bitter about; he got out as possible and left Clint behind). There were others, namely the most important, that was proud about being on a starship.

Now, Clint did have parts he liked. When he was totally alone, feeling the hums of the engine, the vibrations that wracked through his body. HE'S GOOD AT WHAT HE DOES. And when he's got at what he does, or when no one else will dare to break the rules, push the limits? A LITTLE EGO STROKING.

Otherwise, the only contentment he found was from Peter, who startles him (or more, almost trips him). He had been the wrench in Clint's miserable outlook on life; and he was not all gloom. However, he was absolutely the wrench.

❝ Futz! ❞ He's jumps ever so slightly, but damn it to hell, he's smiling despite himself. ❝ Fancy you'll be the death of me. ❞ HE'S GONNA HAVE TO CROUCH DOWN TO KISS HIM, ISN'T HE? ❝ See they got you shovin' into all the small crevices. ❞

He stares down at him, eyes squinting as he debates himself before he is crouching down. No one was passing by, so Clint could risk unsteadily dropping down and lean down to kiss him. Odd angle, lips upside down of each other but who can blame him? ❝ Seriously, going to give me a heart condition. ❞ Clint teases as he goes to stand himself back up.

[ ◉¯] ✧˖° → @oceansfirst the boys are in space!

Peter Parker absolutely LOVED his job, but what wasn't to love? He gets to spend all of his time on a starship tinkering away and helping to make sure she stays running as they go on ADVENTURE AFTER ADVENTURE. He loved his job so much that he never even had a SINGULAR complaint as he crawled around the jefferies tubes doing diagnostic scans and minor maintenance if it was required.

It was a tedious job, and one that always left his back aching from crawling around on all fours and sitting HUNCHED in little spaces that were far too small for a man of even his height. (Which is saying a lot considering he wasn't really that tall at all.)

He found ways to make it fun, talking to the ship as if they were close friends working together to solve a problem she was having, not to mention he got to just POP out of the tubes from time to time occasionally startling whoever was passing by at nearly any point on the ship.

It was even better when it was Clint he would POP out on, a bright smile on his face as he had SLID out on his back just to the left of the man who was wandering his way out of MEDBAY (which was suspicious! why was Clint in medbay again? )

"Hiya, fancy running into you here." despite his SUSPICIONS the smile only grew brighter as he made no effort to fully get up out of the tube he was currently HALF STICKING OUT of, but instead just ENJOYING the view.

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smash or pass + Jess ( clint )

ACCEPTING -> you get the game -> except it star trek specific @biitchcakes

❝ Oh, her? ⸻ Well, I'd hate to say that I liked her better blonde, y'know remind me of my ex-wife, like the blonde scientists . . . . definitely ex-wife vibe. Sine she has dyed her hair? ❞ He was going to get in so much trouble for likening her to his ex-wife, and just about anything else he was going to say and this is a happily committed man to a dork in engineering.

❝ Buuut, I mean, blondes get it better, yknow? ⸻ The dark hair, and she's got like a great head of hair, like honestly good hair is enough; like the dark hair works for her absolutely, definitely ups her IT factor⸺ ❞ He should be watching out for her from now on.

❝ But like they have a saying about girls who could beat you up, right? ❞ He's not gonna say it, that'd be incredibly stupid of him.

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@darehearts -> [continued]

He knows about THE PATTERN, and he's positive he's been gaslit into thinking he invented the pattern. ❝ I was never looking for a club membership ⸻ I don't join up anything these days without knowin' the benefits. . . . ❞ He defends, and in his defense about today's events. Clint was going to point out he can not be in three places at once. ❝ Like do I get anything cool, or this like my other lame club I'm already in? ❞

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Peter had been CHATTING with Chekov in the mess hall, the two of them had been working on figuring out a weird kink that had been going on with the transporter. They were just BOUNCING ideas off one another on how to go about fixing it.

He can see him there, across the hall.. watching, always watching..

It was enough to make Peter stand just A LITTLE taller, ( did he fix his hair just a little? Whose to say.) and there was a BOUNCE to his overall energy. For the most part he keeps his attention fully focused on Chekov, all too invested in the conversation no matter how cute Clint looked over there.

He had even taken note of the DOCTOR when he had joined HIM, and from the look of it teasing him about something. (He did however notice that Clint's gaze still didn't leave him..) it was at the lull of the conversation with Chekov, he finally FULLY looks over at Clint, meeting his gaze.

« I see you »

There is an attempt to make conversation with the doctor, or something of the sort. His heart isn't really in the conversation, and he does nudge for any gossip because that's really what there was when it came to ship life. Gossip about each other. He's pretending as best he can to be solely focused on Leonard as not to give anyone, the doctor presently, the satisfaction of teasing him further for obvious affection toward Peter Parker.

However, he fails that because his eyes are still drawn towards Pete, in his red code uniform, something of which he think any color looked good on Peter. Red's nice, and hey he's got a line to use on him later (it'd work) but really it was anything to get him to laugh. That was the thing about them, they had fun with each other and Clint doesn't even need to hear his laugh; because when Peter really laughed his whole body showed it. Always so expressive.

Peter's not looking towards his way at which has Clint tempted to find the most harmless small object that he can find it and flick it towards Peter. THAT'D BE RUDE, but he's never much cared about that. SO YES LEONARD, HE MAY AS WELL BEEN DROOLING.

He'd like attention and there's that rare Barton Luck when Peter finally turns his head in his direction. Soft eyes meting his, and Clint decides he doesn't care if he makes a fool of himself winking at Peter in full view. He'll talk with Leonard plenty; the doctor being on the higher end of the list of who he talked with more than others. The list went Peter (always more than others usually any chance and always in their quarters), Leonard and the other helmsman (between shifts, and they shared in the same role), than the rest of the senior officers and rest of the ship.

« I see you » THAT GETS CLINT TO RAISE HIS EYE BROWS. He points to himself, playing in total surprises and there's goofy grin as he continues the point.

« Me? Me? Me? » He keeps up, expression to match and than he's shaking his head. Smirk to his lips, always tended to curve on the side of his lip scar and than he's waving his hands off before signing more. « No. No you can NOT see me. »

He points towards Leonard, focus on Peter entirely. « You see Doctor Legendary Hands. » He shakes out his hands for effect, knowing full well that he has established that the doctor knew american sign and was following along. Is this that time where he explains he knows how to properly crush a windpipe? « Me? I am Invisible Man. You can't see me. » He covers his face for about two seconds, than looking back toward him. « See? Invisible. »

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❝ Now's not the time for love confessions, Lenny, already a few years too late for that. ❞ He grumbles before Leonard's even finished calling him UGLY to which he will resent. He's pulling away, arm going up to lightly push at the doctor's stomach.

Clint was always out there to take the most difficult route, the path with the most resistance. Usually he was the resistant force. He doesn't have a fear of medbay or pain for that matter, but when one's a frequent flyer as often as he was along with all the asterisks that came marked in his margins about receiving medical treatment. No sedatives or painkillers unless absolutely necessary and how far to that necessity was a lot, the former being loss of control is alarming and the latter being recovering addict slippery slopes. That meant that the hypo injections he got from anyone always had a kick to them.

❝ That's exactly my goal here to make sure you've as many wrinkles before you get to be my age. ❞ A whole year older than Leonard. Clint grits his teeth, but contains the urge to make any sound. He could handle it, this concoction is not the worst. ❝ You know my middle name was almost difficult, woo, what'd you hit me with? ❞

There was a roll of his eyes as he just listened to Clint YAMMER on. Leonard worked fast, grabbing hold of Clint's arm fully prepared to PIN the blond if he had to. "Maybe I like just looking at YER ugly mug, makes me feel better about my wrinkles, now HOLD STILL DAMMIT!" one last good YANK on Clint's arm, while the other quickly pressing the HYPO to Clint's arm, pressing the button.

"SEE ALL DONE, was that so damn difficult?!"

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smash or pass + Carol ( Clint )

ACCEPTING -> oh christ he's gonna go die after this

OH GOD HE THINKS IS DEAD OR DOESN'T BELIEVE IN ⸻ This was going to get awkward; it already was but when had he ever backed down from anything. . . . . EVER.

❝ So, we've already established that I got a thing for blondes, Sparkle. ❞ By the way, the Sparkle is in reference to how she gets about Jim Kirk when no one was looking. He pays attention, skills in observation and good set of eyes. ❝ We're gonna forget about this in the next thirty seconds, that you'd probably rank top five of girls I'd have a crush on, and I like to PRETEND you wouldn't be too young for me. ⸻ So SMASH, and please don't hurt me. I bruise like fruit, and I really don't want Lenny to laugh at me today. ❞

There's the whole authority thing that she's got going for, the take a challenge and rise to it, double down, the blonde thing, and well, now she's a friend puts up with him.

❝ You are totally HOT, like. . . . You know it, you know who knows it. So, I mean, we'd have a lot of fun. ❞ OKAY. NOW TO RUIN THIS MORE. Only way to get over the embarrassment? RUIN IT.

❝ And like, I think our friendship is like . . . . You, uh, I don't know what little sisters are like, but you know. . . . that's you. Little sister, and you don't stick your. . . . you get the picture. ❞

FLINCH.

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smash or pass + Nyota ( clint )

ACCEPTING -> you know it -> @nyhura

Has he checked if the Commander knows sign language? He should have been keeping a list, he probably doesn't know which mean he was fine. ❝ So, I mean, Uhura's a woman. . . . . ❞ This was so stupid. « SMASH » It's signed once, as quick as the sign requires, but anyone could probably guess it, and how does he explain that she could probably talk about eighty languages into his ear and aids, and his brain would short out. He's got for a thing for woman with beauty, brains, and could command with grace. ❝ Anyone with taste would see what catch, or well, what a chase she'd be. . . . and I mean I'm, uh, I have tastes. ❞ Don't say the thing in your mind, don't say the thing about heels. . . .

No, you have the lowest standards.

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smash or pass + Jim ( clint )

ACCEPTING -> Smash or Pass + A character -> mentioned @darehearts

❝ Let's take a walk down Logic Lane ⸻ so if I am a Captain Kirk knock-off as said by one Jessica Drew, which technically is impossible because I was born first. ❞ He was older, so unless he did some time-travel. . . . which he didn't want to think about how that was possible. ❝ That would enter into clone territory, which in and of itself, or by itself, would be a PASS because my self-loathing would get in the way. ❞ Although, hate fucking could be hot.

⸻ ❝ However, since I was born first and thus I'm the original blonde man-whore, the blueprint for roguish steal-your-heart s.o.b.s which by the way, blondes are on my list of types, and the Cap's got wits and charm, which like SAME ⸻ so that should make Jim very SMASHABLE ⸻ ❞

⸻ ❝ Except again we go into the whole younger knock-off of me, which would make him like a baby brother, and incest disgust me soooooo ⸻ ❞

We think that's a Pass with asterisks, or a smash with asterisks? It'd be so awful and weird if he met his doppelganger and got nasty with himself.

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@neonwebs

THE GALL TO IMPLY HE IS SCARED OF HIM ⸻ It's no more a secret he comes from the entertainment industry, and not everything he did was ever safe or entirely legal. ❝ Like I'd be scared of a lab-grown giant like you, when I use to nightly drop eighty feet in the air and hafta catch a trapeze swing at one specific interval, no net death certain. ❞ TRY DOING THAT EVERY NIGHT, he wants to snip and ⸻ the nerve to count how many years. It takes all his self control, not to give in to his hotheaded temper which has been back in full recently. WONDER WHY.

Whatever helps you sleep at night ⸻ ❝ Thanks, it's the alcohol. ❞ Not the time for that joke, Clint. NOT THE TIME. He is working on that, the alcohol problem again sort of, and he is not looking for pity or sympathy from the blue shirt anyways.

❝ You're saying too many words already ⸻ but I'd do anything for Peter. ❞ SO FINE. He would continue to try to get along with Miguel for the sake of the crew as was said.

Look out, everyone. He's from fucking Iowa.

"I dunno, Clint. You seem scared enough." I can almost feel the wrinkles forming in my forehead just sitting here across from him, glaring at him. "So brave as to not move from the same spot for seven years." I know he knows what I'm referencing. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. Not sure what growing up around a bunch of cornfields has to do with anything."

At least I act like helping Alchemax for all those years keeps me up at night. How do you act friendly towards someone who sent one of your best friends crying to your cabin in the middle of the night?

"Look. Peter likes you. That's enough for me to fake a smile around you, but let's keep words between us at a minimum. For the sake of the crew." As there is more than enough drama without the two of us fighting while on deck. Fighting Peter's boyfriend would just add fuel to the fire, and land me in trouble, and I'm in more than enough already.

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@darehearts -> jim has clint's number dialed [continued]

To put it simply, he had been an absolutely disaster of a student at the academy; but that did not make him a terrible pilot. NO, THAT PART HE GOT. Articulating that was not in his forte, general experience dealt with Clint Barton could best be described as ⸺ IT WAS FINE UNTIL HE OPENED HIS MOUTH. ⸻ When he was sat down in front of the controls, with all the information laid out in front of him; HE GOT IT ⸻ HE JUST GOT IT.

When the calculation was stated were set with the odds not looking great, than frankly that was where he thrived. YOU SHOULD DIE LIKE DAD ⸻ FUCK YOU BARNEY. He would in fact like to prove those calculations wrong. Clint snorts, BRISTLES as the Captain questions if he could even fly through this nebula. Jim pushes the right button.

❝ Shuddup, I could fly a goddamn ship backwards you know how many people can fly a ship backwards? ❞ It was mentioned that Clint Barton was better off swallowed when he didn't open his mouth. One of his many citations that he was lippy, mouthed off many-a-authority figure. ❝ I got this, Cap. ❞ STILL WAS GOING TO FEEL LIKE A GARBAGE DISPOSAL.

Still going to complain about it. ❝ Hold onto yer lunch. ❞ It's not his fault if people get a little jostled anyways.

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John Walker was hitting on Peter

KEEPING UP WITH THE ENTERPRISE / Oh. Someone wants to start war and witness a homicide // mentioned @crisispider

It was already bad enough that LITERAL SCUM was aboard this goddamn ship, that he's a GUEST ABOARD the Enterprise. Clint's already up to his neck in HOT WATER for laying out a FIST-SHAPED LICKING.

That kind of trouble was WORTH IT for one of the men in his life that he hated with a fervor. IT WAS EARNED ⸻ FOR THE RECORD. The pilot thinks he has as earned more than all the rights to hold this grudge over JOHN FUCKING WALKER.

He nearly got him kicked out of Starfleet a multitude of times, and oh yeah, the most important point that HE ALMOST KILLED HIM. Clint may not have had the highest opinion of his own life, a struggling with recovery alcoholic who joined Starfleet on the whim to prove his brother WRONG. Stubbornly DEFY his comments that he was LIKE DAD and that he should END UP LIKE HE ENDED UP.

Clint's already WRECKED his shared quarters in a fight of rage, the need to fight the DRINKING urge, and he didn't exactly have what he had back down his earth, when he was living on the road, in circuses, the part of America that still had land stretched wide. A HOBBY CENTURIES OLD. Archaic weaponry that become like his thing, archery. A bow, he didn't have that in this FLYING METAL DEATH TRAP. Sorry Enterprise.

⸻ JOHN WALKER WAS HITTING ON PETER ⸻

There may as well be a RED ALERT going off in his brain, already was in his vision and his ears are ringing. JOHN FUCKING WALKER DID WHAT NOW? Clint's heavily contemplating what the merits of JETTISONING A MAN INTO SPACE. There's a reason that space, the literal outside of the ship's hull, was QUICK SCARY PAINFUL DEATH.

It'd basically BE MURDER and than he'd be out in the vacuum as well or in the brig. IT'S NOT A LITERAL IDEA HE IS TOYING WITH. A fantasy he would not be all that proud to admit to. Clint would lose too much if he went through with that option, and HE'S BETTER THAN FUCKING WALKER.

He doesn't need to beat someone down and strangle them like John did to him. EXCEPT HE WOULD LIKE TO GIVE HIS JAW ANOTHER HARD KNOCK. That was reasonable , right?

Why the fuck was he aboard the Enterprise ⸺ that convening snake. Clint hopes that he sheds his skin and shows his true colors, o than maybe the Captain at last would allow him ONE MORE GOOD SWING ⸺ OR SHOOT HIM; PHASER SET TO STUN.

❝ I hope he gets what is coming for him. ❞

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sign: so are we gonna talk about it or are we gonna pretend nothing’s wrong here?

// you know in your heart who this is for and EXACTLY what point and verse I’m talking about.

CONTENT WARNINGS for alcoholism, relapsing, addiction, death, miscarriage, mention, depression, trauma, anxiety attacks

There are exactly five thing in life that absolutely crushed him, that had crushed him and changed the directory of his life. Unfortunately for him, those were not the end all or the be all of everything bad in Clint Barton's life. When he was born, he got the short straw in the draw of life. THE WORST POSSIBLE HAND ⸻ and he'd love to know what if there was something more ironic than the fact that Clint knew how to rig about a dozen card games and he still wound up with the worst hand.

Those five things were as follows in particular order ⸻ the loss of his and his wife's unborn son frankie, the divorce between him and bobbi morse, his own brother barney telling him that he may as well die like their father had with a bottle in hand, the crash landing and loss of the enterprise, and lastly most presently important the almost realized fear of losing peter b parker.

In the most recent years, and holy hell how long has it been, almost five years; that there had been two things working for him, one of superior importance; the fact he has managed to succeed at being on a star ship and next; the color that came back into his life after he had been rubbed raw, where his metaphorical vision saw grey and lacking. PETER B. PARKER WAS COLOR.

He had been managing on his own, as best he could to get through his years at the Starfleet Academy; he had got accepted and passed entrance exams (despite that feeling he was a phony, not wanting to be there out of starlight and adventure but out of spite to stick it to his brother that he would not die at bottle and he could do the starship thing too barney barton).

Those first years were a challenge, the hardest challenge as he was trying to scrap himself from the rock fucking bottom alone. Clint almost lost it all multiple times and he knows there had been some with more compassion because of his potential; because there were unique skills that he brought with him (he hate to owe it to his childhood, to how he grew up, and to his time as a performer).

AND THERE HAD BEEN PETER. He had met him when he was off the straight and narrow; a weekend lapse after managing four months without but thins had ben starting to stick more than before. It's a disease, a disease that he had known before he tasted with his own tongue. The lapse had last less than a month, one of the shorter stints and it was starting to stick.

( no longer had he been alone too. a friend turned love, found in peter who had become everything to him. everything. )

It had been a longer time that IT had stuck, years at the last where his hand didn't touch a bottle and his lips didn't touch a glass; personal poison not filling his stomach. HIS HAND IS SHAKING AS HE APPROACHES THEIR QUARTERS. It had been a long time.

The rub, the goddamn rub of where the spot stained, was this. There was a sixth soul-crushing addition to his list. THE REBORN ENTERPRISE WAS FULLY OPERTIONAL; A NEW MISSION ALREADY SET COURSE. THEY WERE FLYING.

As the days turned to weeks abroad a starship, the starship, and when he gazes out from the helm and sees the vast emptiness. IT FILLS INSIDE HIM. A gnawing, incessant fear that filled him and was in every corner.

He may have been cleared, but that was when they were on the ground and when he had been attending to Peter, had been going through therapy and holding it together. HARD DAYS AND HE HANDLED THEM. He got through, didn't drink, but now out in the stars?

The fear came back, with a vengeance and every day was hard, harder than the last and all he could do was hide it. HE WASN'T SLEEPING. He got good at faking that, the first few weeks. He was a liar, a phony, a fraud and he couldn't keep going on not sleeping.

IT ALWAYS STARTS WITH ONE ⸻ and he slips. . . . and when he slips? It never ends with one. The first few days, it's only a taste, one bottle nicked from someone else and hoping they blame their friend (they did) and it was just a taste, something to mellow the senses. SLEEP A LITTLE.

⸻ IT NEVER ENDS WITH ONE.

Here he was, wanting to drain the whole thing because it was felt temporarily good, and the fuzzy feeling wanted to lull him into the belief that it was worth it and good. Years sober and clean would say otherwise. HE SHAKES AS HE ENTERS AND PETER WAS STILL UP. WHAT WAS HE DOING THAT?

The light in the room, despite it's brightness dimmer than that out in the hall, feel BLINDING, BURNING, AND PETER LOOKS A SORRY STATE OF AWAKE. When have those dark circles been there, he had sworn to himself that Peter would be asleep before he went to the alcohol (someone else's nicked from a personal drawer of undergarments) he had relocated for use as his sleep aid.

WHY CAN'T IT JUST BE ONE? Why couldn't he be stronger, with more self control like the good doctor with one glass, one glass a single goddamn night when needed? WHY COULDN'T HE? BUT THE FEELING SHAKING HIS HANDS, SPIRALING OUT FROM HIS GUT AND HOLDING HIS LUNGS CAPTIVE SAID MORE.

The look upon his everything, upon Peter's face was as equally soul-crushing as THAT SIXTH SOUL-CRUSHING POINT. The sixth being the day that it all broke loose, when the fear was keeping up an he had gotten a few looks, some words passed onto him that maybe he should go to medical, and WHAT? AND WHAT? He wanted to bite, he wanted to snap, and tell them he can't sleep?

THERE WAS ONLY ONE GODDAMN CURE AND HE KNEW THE ANSWER. He couldn't spend every night, laying at Peter's side watching him sleep, watching him breath, and FEELING HIS HEART ACHE EVERY TIME HE STARTED STIRRING, OR STOPPED BREATHING FOR THREE SECONDS. Clint simply couldn't do it, he needed the sleep too, hypervigilance wasn't working. it was going to save Peter came to the worst.

TONIGHT WAS ONE NIGHT OF MANY IN THE PAST FEEL WEEKS. The night of many where his lips touched a glass, his throat found solace in the burn going down it, and he knows in the slow long run, that he was poisoning himself again, slowly but surely killing a part of himself; numbing the pain and the fear, and it'd only get worse from here.

Six soul-crushing points in life that came in no particular order, was never going to get to know what it would have been like to hold a baby frankie, was knowing that he was an awful husband who couldn't ever be there when it matter, the feeling of wanting to prove his brother's words right and die just like their father did, the two failures upon not being able to do anything that mattered to save anyone or anything as alien blood on his hands did nothing to change what happened, to having his fears come true and almost lose peter with no way to do anything and watch his everything almost lose himself to grief too, and a few weeks ago, that sixth thing had been when he had found someone's (he didn't bother to remember whose contraband he stole) whiskey and touched the glass to his lips and down.

YEARS WITHOUT LEFT TOLERANCE LOWER THAN EVER. Not much had been needed the first night, that damn spot, the rub of all rubs that left him raw and HE KNEW THE PLUMMET DOWN HE WAS TAKING. It helped him sleep and told him all sort of other lies, and the questions that kept him not being able to look anyone in the eye for weeks, inventing new routines to avoid old ones (no more morning yoga it would be wrong since that came about because of sobriety).

⸻ ALL OF THAT TOSSED AWAY. He was a phony, a fraud, and the addict he knew he was wondered only wondered when the next drink, what plans and reasons he could come up to justify, to make sure he got the next one, what happens when everyone who had brought contraband alcoholic substances no longer had any in their stashes because they hadn't docked in awhile and he went through four hundred and fifty something personnel and every nook and cranny looking for the thing that lied to him, that convinced him that he needed and wanted it.

That was soul crushing to know that his resolve was weaker and Clint felt powerless, had felt powerless for months and why not give himself over to a higher demon he had never believed in anything higher before but if he was going to destroy himself, he might as well.

BECAUSE HOLDING IT TOGETHER, HAVING ONE GOOD THING IN HIS LIFE? It's only a matter of time before he ruin that. Had he been too eager, too much of a stress on Bobbi that he had tressed her out and killed their baby, and he knows he was unsupportive and to blame for the divorce, and he had been the one first to throw barney out of his life, and. . . . what had he done, what could he have done. . . .

Peter was sitting there awake and he knows how they talk; knows the damn love of his life, the color to his world, everything his soul wanted, had learnt sign language quickly as he could on meeting him because he preferred and never shared that he preferred. PETER SAT THERE, AND IF LOOKS COULD BREAK HEARTS, HE WORE THAT EXPRESSION.

« so are we gonna talk about it or are we gonna pretend nothing’s wrong here? »

Clint stands there, stares at him and he hates himself; more than he could ever describe as he is left with that question. THE LOOK ON PETER'S EXPRESSION. It was years that he had drowned.

« Let's go to sleep » He signs, forcing into his face of something hopeful that Peter would just take that, even if Clint knew that he was answering Peter's question. WE GONNA PRETEND NOTHING'S WRONG. Clint wanted to pretend.

How could he say what was going on? BUT Peter knew him better than anyone had in along time of his life, it's why he loved him so much. TO KNOW HIS SOUL, the one he entrusted with his dark. Peter met him when he wasn't sober and watched him as sobriety finally started to stuck. HE KNEW. AND CLINT DIDN'T WANT TO SAY IT.

Somewhere in his system, his head was fuzzy after all, WOOZY, wanted a drink. AND ANOTHER REASON TO DROWN, TO WASH IT AWAY. He hates that feeling, hate that his mouth waters and he knows he'll seek out more.

This is how things end if he can't admit it, ask for help this time around; if he were honest. BUT TONIGHT?

« PLEASE » He looks like he's begging as his mouth moves over the words along with the sign. « Go back to bed, my love. We sleep? We need sleep. »

BUT TONIGHT HE CAN'T DO THAT. He can't admit it, can't ask for help, and face the consequences, risk judgment for this part of him being seen. It's a disease and he'll stay sick. FACE JUDGEMENT.

Tomorrow. . . . maybe tomorrow he. . . .

Clint doesn't go to touch Peter, or go kiss him because he knows (the drink tonight wasn't enough, he needs more, needed more) and he knows and he knows. He tries to go lay down, and give Peter the sorriest eyes, quietly begging for him to just let whatever time it was rest and maybe tomorrow, when he's clearer headed he'll TRY AND TRY AND TRY BEFORE HE FINDS WHATEVER THIS NEW ROCK BOTTOM WOULD LOOK LIKE.

All those years and he took them away from himself.