mental link;

[cognitived]

PRACTICAL if we're gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.	RESILIENT do you know what it's like to be unmade?
SKILLED if i miss, it means im just another dude with a bow.	DETERMINED this is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[cognitived]

[ Later, maybe, Clint will appreciate it. The knowledge that someone knows, understands, intimately. The others had understood, somewhat, but nothing compares to the feeling of fingers rifling through your brain. Of too blue and too true, loyalty twisted and turned on its head, fierce and achingly wrong. Of anybody -- Clint is glad it's Sam.

But those thoughts are mere wisps, at the edge of his mind. No, for now Clint's fighting with the ache of pulling himself back together, the uncertain edge of fitting mind back into body that doesn't seem right. His still distant, in a way, but it feels as if nothing but time can fix that. Time, and the soft warmth of Sam's breath against his skin. The comfort and trust and stability he craves. The bits and pieces that are Clint all the way through never want to go through that again. The rest is pretty sure it's inevitable.

He winces, feeling Sam's fear, his worry. He hadn't meant to cause that, flinching apology ebbing softly at the edges where they merge. ]

( Didn't think that'd happen. ) [ A sigh. ] ( Probably should've expected something. )

[ Stupid, nothing's free. This power is useful, a nearly natural progression on a life spent in shadows. But something about still eats at him, an edge of unfamiliarity. Cold, distant -- the greyscale washing out of the world around him. It's strange, standing next to someone and having them look right through him.

But Clint isn't one to let a skill or advantage escape him. He'll master this eventually, regardless of cold or the threat of the loss of self. Stubborn -- he's drawn that one back. ]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ They've got time. Like this, Sam could believe they've got as much time as they need - that there's nothing stopping them from staying wrapped up in each other until Clint is completely back in his own skin, until every where that Sam presses against him is no longer cold to the touch. Sam closes his eyes as he nuzzles his face deeper into Clint's neck, breathing so and even.

He presses his hand over Clint's heart at that wince, soothing away his apology. Clint's back, they're together, that's all that matters now. Whatever fear Sam'd felt when he couldn't quite reach Clint has faded now, now that all of Clint is within easy reach.

Nothing's ever free, both of them know that. Sam gives life at the cost of taking it, takes life at the cost of giving it - but then he'd done that before, only not quite as literally. Same as Clint'd always walked in the shadows and now they pull at him to join them, curl around him and try to get him to stay. Maybe the symbiote only tapped into what they were and pushed them to be more. ]

( We know for next time. )

[ Because of course there'll be a next time. Of course Clint will keep going until he can control this, and there's no question that Sam'll be there with him. ]

[cognitived]

[ His heart beats, quickening the longer Clint is freed from the shadowy realm. Like this, with Sam's palm smoothed over sternum, Clint can breathe. Fear ebbs, recrimination heating Clint's blood for a minute more before he nods.

They know, yeah, it's true. This is no secret, no surprise -- Clint's got red in his ledger that years as a superhero could never wash away. He's spent decades in the shadows, figures that one day they shadows would try to consume him if he wasn't wary. It's almost amusing, in an ironic sort of way. As it is, Clint scrubs a hand over his brow, fingertips still chilled, and sighs. ]

( Yeah, yeah. )

[ Softly, but the way Clint's mind flickers with the edges of planning for the next time is obvious. How soon? The shadows slumber in his blood, sup on the marrow of his bones. Calling, calling. He wants to sink back into the shadows, push his limits -- but he knows better. ]

( We're done for today though. )

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ He reaches out without really thinking about it to take Clint's hand in his free one, lips curling into a tiny smirk as he huffs warm air over Clint's fingertips before he laces their fingers together.

His fingers curl into Clint's shirt at the shadows he can feel flickering at Clint's mind, unbidden, and the wings that form his mental shield at its highest level of defense stretch out, wrapping around Clint's mind. Like he can shelter them both from the shadows, like the soft gleam of golden light that glints of the feathers can keep them at bay. ]

( You're damn right we are. )

[ He doesn't have to say it for Clint to know how much Sam isn't willing to risk losing him. They're in each other's heads enough for it to be obvious - and it's not just that, not just that they've become so entangled in each other's minds that it's hard for Sam to pull them apart. It's that Clint is one of the few people he trusts here, the one who knows him the best.

But Sam also knows Clint, knows that he won't be satisfied until he's pushing his limits again. ]

( Maybe tomorrow. )