It was embarrassing, really, how much he held on to these comforting arms at once, tightly clenching his teeth to shake off his sub-consciousness' escapades.
At least he didn't have to worry about making Natasha freeze again. The coldness was only inside, merely a phantom syndrome but nothing less real in its effects. Only when Natasha's presence all around him reminded him that everything had ended well, the shaking wore off. He pressed his lips against her hands, holding them close over his chest until his heart stopped racing.
"Thor said, it's about where he comes from", he murmured when he didn't feel like his words would come out as a scream or a sob anymore.
It wasn't so much about what had happened, though Clint could very well do without ever being touched by a cosmic scepter again, thank you very much. It was the lessons drilled into him that still freaked him out. Drilled, branded into his body and into his brain, with every of these feather light touches that had left his muscles sore, as if he had taken a ride on good ol' sparky afterwards. And then the sickness, flowing through him every time there had been that relentless hand around his throat, making him feel like his air ways were frozen dead.
He wasn't sure why he told her, but it was easier once he had started. If he absolutely had to ruin the weekend for them - at least the nights - he at least wanted her to know why.
"When that asshole lays as much as a finger on you, it's like standing naked on North Pole. And that scepter does the same to your brain. There's nothing else left."
He trembled again, his shoulders tensing up painfully with the sound of every of these cruel, sweetly whispered words still much too present on his mind.
"Nothing but what he tells you. He's had some pretty creative ideas about the two of us. After I told him everything about you, that is."
A choked, angry sob spoke of the hate that after all these months he still couldn't turn away from himself. That one little part of him would always wonder how he could have prevented all this, and at night it tended to grow.
Strangely it felt easier when he had gotten it off his chest. This all was about trust, hadn't he thought that so often last evening? Hiding anything from Natasha only shook that foundation between them. He had already endangered it enough with his goddamn silliness in this past battle.
"I can't help it, Tash'. I feel... dirty, like that Bastard left his stench on my brain."
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Date: 2013-11-17 11:18 pm (UTC)From:At least he didn't have to worry about making Natasha freeze again. The coldness was only inside, merely a phantom syndrome but nothing less real in its effects.
Only when Natasha's presence all around him reminded him that everything had ended well, the shaking wore off. He pressed his lips against her hands, holding them close over his chest until his heart stopped racing.
"Thor said, it's about where he comes from", he murmured when he didn't feel like his words would come out as a scream or a sob anymore.
It wasn't so much about what had happened, though Clint could very well do without ever being touched by a cosmic scepter again, thank you very much. It was the lessons drilled into him that still freaked him out. Drilled, branded into his body and into his brain, with every of these feather light touches that had left his muscles sore, as if he had taken a ride on good ol' sparky afterwards.
And then the sickness, flowing through him every time there had been that relentless hand around his throat, making him feel like his air ways were frozen dead.
He wasn't sure why he told her, but it was easier once he had started. If he absolutely had to ruin the weekend for them - at least the nights - he at least wanted her to know why.
"When that asshole lays as much as a finger on you, it's like standing naked on North Pole. And that scepter does the same to your brain. There's nothing else left."
He trembled again, his shoulders tensing up painfully with the sound of every of these cruel, sweetly whispered words still much too present on his mind.
"Nothing but what he tells you. He's had some pretty creative ideas about the two of us. After I told him everything about you, that is."
A choked, angry sob spoke of the hate that after all these months he still couldn't turn away from himself. That one little part of him would always wonder how he could have prevented all this, and at night it tended to grow.
Strangely it felt easier when he had gotten it off his chest. This all was about trust, hadn't he thought that so often last evening? Hiding anything from Natasha only shook that foundation between them. He had already endangered it enough with his goddamn silliness in this past battle.
"I can't help it, Tash'. I feel... dirty, like that Bastard left his stench on my brain."