The smile from Phil helped. He hadn't been hopelessly clinging to something normal and he was glad for it. Well, he probably was still hopelessly clinging to something normal but at the very least, Phil was the one who stabilized him. For a time, after the postcards stopped coming -- Clint assumed that he had been killed overseas and it was a feeling of dread that overtook him at the idea of it. He knew coming there was a long shot in finding Phil. But at the very least, he was making the attempt to try. If Phil hadn't been there he honestly didn't know what he would have done other than curl in on himself in the corner of the room Phil had found him in, possibly even cry. Phil was his lifeline at this point and the only person he thought who could legitimately get him out of this mess and put him out of his misery. He'd even picked up the gun to do the job with -- it wouldn't be as messy as he thought it could be. That it had the potential to be.
And what better way to spend a guy's last couple moments than by the hand of someone he was sure if he had come around earlier (when he hadn't been so young) and try to hit on him than that things might have turned a wee bit interesting. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Clint was already living in the state of mind where he wished he could have done things differently. Been someone different.
"Well, I ain't some people. Most of the people who saw 'em thought I was pining over someone I'd never meet again." Little did they know. Clint laughed a little, shrugging. "'m sure I woulda lived with or without the mace. Usually 'm more quiet...people don't notice me until the next day when 'm sitting at their breakfast table 'n they wonder how this guy even got in the house to begin with." Usually other carnies who hadn't allowed Clint into their trailers for fear he might take something of theirs. He had little loyalty when it came to...anyone really.
"Try eatin' your brother and we'll see what's fixable." It had meant to be just a thought. Clint froze up for a moment, mentally shaking it off. Phil wouldn't believe...right? Phil couldn't believe that the guy in front of him would be capable of that. He pulled away from the hug he had asked for just the same, tucking his hands in his pockets. "I left the circus...I jus' need a place to chill for a couple days 'n 'll be outta your hair." Hopefully after he talked him into doing what he thought needed to be done, or mustering up the courage to do it himself. Either way it went.
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And what better way to spend a guy's last couple moments than by the hand of someone he was sure if he had come around earlier (when he hadn't been so young) and try to hit on him than that things might have turned a wee bit interesting. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Clint was already living in the state of mind where he wished he could have done things differently. Been someone different.
"Well, I ain't some people. Most of the people who saw 'em thought I was pining over someone I'd never meet again." Little did they know. Clint laughed a little, shrugging. "'m sure I woulda lived with or without the mace. Usually 'm more quiet...people don't notice me until the next day when 'm sitting at their breakfast table 'n they wonder how this guy even got in the house to begin with." Usually other carnies who hadn't allowed Clint into their trailers for fear he might take something of theirs. He had little loyalty when it came to...anyone really.
"Try eatin' your brother and we'll see what's fixable." It had meant to be just a thought. Clint froze up for a moment, mentally shaking it off. Phil wouldn't believe...right? Phil couldn't believe that the guy in front of him would be capable of that. He pulled away from the hug he had asked for just the same, tucking his hands in his pockets. "I left the circus...I jus' need a place to chill for a couple days 'n 'll be outta your hair." Hopefully after he talked him into doing what he thought needed to be done, or mustering up the courage to do it himself. Either way it went.