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]

[ He has to fight down the instinctive urge to shutter his mind, cold gilding his spine at the insidious feeling of someone looking through his own eyes. Clint invited the Darkling in, and so he stays, silent and tense, allowing the sift of memory, the blink of eyes. Sam's anxious, questioning, and Clint sends him a little burst of sound a silent hold on.

Tries to ignore the way this feels -- right, the bond shimmering between them, light between fingers. ]

( Yeah, got it. ) [ Gruff, but the press of their minds reveals his gratefulness. And then, to Sam: ] ( Darkling's on his way, he thinks he can help. )

[unsea]

[ My, the bond between them is acceptable - provided he is the one facilitating the connection and its uses. It becomes an unwelcome nuisance, when others reach in his direction. Be they innocently inquisitive or in need, the press of a mind along his ( uninvited, impermissible ) does not make him any happier than it would Clint, or Bruce, or any of them. Perhaps it's simply a measure of control, this way. The way that he follows the hum that is - alarmingly, but unmistakably - Clint Barton, to the room where he and Sam had been.

It's there that he pauses, looking around the room for a moment, before stepping inside. It's Sam he addresses first: ]

He fell off the bed, and onto the floor. From there, he's nowhere to be found.

[ It's confirmation that he's looking for, as he steps closer to the edge of the bed - where the light has cast shadow across the floor. It's this shadow that he reaches down to lay a hand flat against, running his fingertips curiously over its surface. While he addresses Clint through their connection, it is open to Sam as well - there's no use keeping him out of the proceedings: ]

( You fell, Clint. A little further than you're used to falling, I believe. )

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Still the same, Clint says, and all right, well, at least that means theoretically he didn't go too far. Invisibility seems like it'd make sense, but when Sam sweeps a hand across the floor where Clint should be, there's nothing.

There's also no relief when Clint says that Darkling might know how to help, but he moves towards the door anyway. He won't turn away any option, but he'll save anything like relief for when he actually sees Clint again. Similarly, he gives Darkling a nod as he lets him into the room, but doesn't bother with pleasantries. ]

Yeah. You seen anything like this before?

[cognitived]

[ He can feel the Darkling, the gleam of his mind even though they've pulled away at the edges. It's -- it's strangely relieving. Especially when Sam crouches down before him and sweeps his hand -- through him? over him? It's weird, and Clint shudders, a mental spill over catching the both of them in it. Monsters and magic, nothing he was ever trained for, and it makes him uneasy.

His hands ache for a bow, a solid issue to fight. ]

( Further? ) [ Sharp, but only because that's -- not entirely what he expected. A flurry, where, how, why-- but in the end he falls silent, mind nestled in alongside the both of them, a sparking little thing. Clint can hear them regardless, but keeping contact helps. Makes it easier to ground himself, somehow. ]

[unsea]

I've not seen humans fall into shadow, like this. Monsters, yes.

[ His monsters, but he doesn't mention that. Instead, he kneels by the space that Sam has confirmed Clint fell to. The dark patch of shadow there, the seeking press of Clint's mind - looking for a little comfort to his uneasy. It's without ceremony that the Darkling reaches for Sam's ankle, and takes hold of it firmly as he leans over the patch of black. His mind digs into Clint's, anchoring himself and searching for rhyme and reason and method.

He uses Clint, and will apologize later for the act, tipping himself over - arm vanishing directly through the floor. No, not the floor. He's gone into the shadow. Almost immediately, he can feel the texture of a shirt. There is nothing like distance between his reach and Clint's form, it's not as though Clint is under the floor. He's just - relocated. Further. ]

( Come here, Clint. Let's see you back among us. )

im not sure if it was bri's turn or mine ???

[cognitived]

[ He listens, impatient and statue still, staring into the colorless shape Sam and the Darkling make. It's useful information, maybe, but he tucks it aside for later, when he isn't stuck in some shadow world. But then the tendrils of the Darkling's mind, comfortably curled close around him, suddenly dig into the fleshy yield of Clint's mind. Fingers rifling through his brain, talons digging in in in, further and further and you have heart--

Clint doesn't respond, not a true verbal thing. Instead, he shatters under sudden, familiar, fear. The pieces of himself holding onto the both of them lash out, caught up in too blue and the crazed line of Loki's smile. Not again, not again-- a litany tripping over the flailing press of him.

The Darkling reaches for him, fingers caught in the fabric of shirt, and Clint instinctively grabs his arm in a bruising grip. Less for the want of escape, and more of a threat -- get out. ]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ That's... well, Sam can't actually decide if that's reassuring or not. At least Darkling has some experience with this, even if it's not exactly the same. But before he can think too much into it, the Darkling's hand is curled around his ankle, and Sam's frowning curiously at him as he leans over the shadow. Sam's settled enough in Clint's mind that he feels the Darkling digging in - and more than that, he feels Clint's reaction to it. It's not the first time he's gotten wrapped up in Loki-related fear, but it is the first time it's been this intense, triggered by a repeat rather than a memory.

He doesn't try to push the Darkling out of Clint's mind or pull his ankle from the Darkling's grasp, because he's a little too caught up in Clint's panic to be able to completely sort out what's going on here, and anyway he doesn't want to try to fight Clint's battles for him. Instead he withdraws, pulling back from the connection between him and the Darkling and letting go of his own hold on Clint's mind.

But he lingers with Clint, same as he has the times when it's Clint's nightmares that send them reeling, a wordless offer of warmth and support - I'm here, I'm here, breathe with me - and this time it's accompanied by a trickle of emotion - you are your own, and you're stronger than anything they can throw at you. An unshakable faith, born from knowing and trusting Clint maybe more than he quite realized, but Sam shares it without hesitation. ]