beenunmade | for theshield

for theshield_agent

Running had become second nature.

Clint hadn't been a wolf for long, he had counted the weeks. Days. Hours. All since his life had been turned upside down and he didn't quite know what to make of anything anymore. Several months ago he had fell into a state of relaxation when he was out with a group of his own friends before he had been attacked. The attack had killed two of the men he had been traveling with at the time, it was not so pleasant waking up in pools of their own blood. Their mangled bodies surrounding him and all Clint could think was 'why aren't I dead too'. It was a miracle, his friends and brother had said. A fucking miracle he had walked away from that, but it didn't feel so much like a miracle the following month. Or the month after. His brother had been the first victim of a 'wild animal attack' and it hadn't been something Clint was entirely proud of. How full he had felt the day afterward, how disgusted he felt with himself. No amount of vomiting or therapy could take that away from him.

So he ran. It seemed the logical thing to do. He left his friends behind. The life he had come to know, even if he had always been running. The circus was always something that didn't logically mean that someone had settled down in their life and was happy with everything. It just meant they had no where to go and that was the only option.

The man had just hitchhiked from Arizona to New Jersey over the course of three months. Every time the full moon would come around and he would feel it's pull. He would just simply...disappear out of sight for a couple days. Then back on the road he went. A little sore, but okay. Alive. His mind had literally abandoned the rules of a normal person's life. He didn't believe it was going to ever be like that again. He chewed on his bottom lip as he contacted the friend of his he had ditched when he was on the road with the circus. The man had been someone who...arrested him and his older brother when they had gotten into a mess. Barney had been at fault but apparently being eighteen in a bar automatically meant that he was in trouble as well. There had been no excuse for the beer he had in his either but...still. It ended up with Clint alone in a holding cell because Barney had tried to choke him with his belt and the teen laughing along side the man who had remained straight-faced until he allowed the tiniest hint of a smile to leak through.

That guy had bailed Clint out of a couple situations he didn't know about. The last he had heard from him (through postcards) was that he was off to the Army. He hoped he would be where Clint had last seen him. Living the nice sort of life...it almost made him feel guilty that he was bringing this to his doorstep but there was nothing he could legitimately do about it. He didn't have anyone else he trusted. Clint scaled up the wall of the two story house that he had...sniffed the other man out at. For all he knew? This was his girlfriend's house or something and he was still off. He didn't strike him as the settling down type. Phil had been married to his job for far too long and pushed people away from the phone conversations they had. It was the perfect place to hide as he pushed the window on the top story open before slipping inside.

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It was the smile of a horny teenager who liked older men (not really). Clint had liked Phil right off the bat not because he was someone a person could point him out in the crowd and say 'dude's hot'. But rather than he had an unassuming look about him. No one had paid attention to Phil but Clint himself and the people who had already known Phil. Clint zero'd in on him because the moment he was in the holding cell, Phil got to see his family at it's worst and still didn't seem affected by it. That's why Clint kept in touch.

"Kind of? Try a couple years and thousands of miles away, Phil." He didn't mind the mess. He tried not to laugh as he still held him close to him. Fighting back whatever urge that told him to push the man away. He felt the safest in months right now. Even if nothing really happened all those years ago but a shared laugh and pitching in for some bail. "That woulda been a wee bit awkward, don'tcha think? A relatively good lookin' young guy droppin' in at your brother's place? You might've gotten a few questions from her." He chuckled a bit before tilting his head in a little bit of confusion. "Aren't ya a bit too old for school?"

He scowled a bit at that. "What...gives you that idea?" He was. It was just a little too much for other people to handle.

Older men or just Phil, it didn't matter. Phil had noticed Clint back then, but now it was different. Clint was older and it showed. Not that he'd really been a kid back then, but he'd just barely not been one and that was a weird place to be. They both were older now and neither of them were needing to get bailed out. At least, he hoped.

"I tried to keep sending you post cards, but eventually they started to bounce back, so I stopped." He smiled. "My sister would have thought you were a friend, which you are." Right? They hadn't talked in a while, but that didn't erase it. "No awkwardness at all."

He sighed. "People who aren't in trouble tend to... use front doors a bit more. Maybe call ahead or something? Whatever it is, just tell me. I can help."

Possibly it was just Phil. Clint's eyes had been on the man that entire night before Barney had started that fight. Even though he wished he wasn't here to be bailed out -- he knew it wasn't the case. It was just a different sort of bailing out that he knew Coulson would just be more adept to performing with his new military career under his belt and whatever he was recently working on now. He had to be better with a gun then everyone else he had met. The only other person he had asked was one of the other carny's who thought he had been too broken up over Barney's death to put any thought into it.

"I kept on gettin' most of them. Back at the circus my trailer's covered in 'em. People thought I was going crazy." Clint wasn't entirely sure the theory wasn't not sound though. He did appreciate having someone on the outside to keep in contact with until the postcards stopped coming. Just a little bit after the attack. "No, I was more meanin' it woulda been awkward when I got into your house through the window." Clint did not use conventional means of anything. It wasn't in his nature.

He scowled a bit, shrugging. "Can you jus'...Can I jus' have another hug right now?" He wanted to use the excuse that his brother had died and it was really eating him up inside. But he didn't care about Barney. All he cared about right now was that he was there...salvation was right in his grasp. "I doubt you could really help me right now, anyway."

Phil was embarrassed to admit it, even to himself, but Clint had really pulled him in. He'd been young and interesting and it had pulled Phil's curiosity. He'd wanted to know more about Clint and now here he was. It was like a strange fantasy scenario or something. He'd given up on getting back in touch with Clint a while ago, anyway, but none of that seemed important now.

"I'm glad you liked them, then. Some people think they're kind of dorky, but I think they're fun." He smiled. "And, yeah, she would have maced you. I can't even pretend that she wouldn't have. This is why knocking is a good idea. On the front door, not the second story window."

But he was already pulling Clint into another hug. "Whatever it is, I can help, Clint. I'll help you figure it out. It can't be that bad. Everything is fixable." He really believed that. Even serious crimes, there were ways to minimize the consequences. Phil's natural urge to take care of people was coming out here. Clint made it come out a little faster than usual and Phil wasn't going to question that just yet.

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.

Phil held him in a tight hug. One of his hands moved up to pet Clint's hair. He'd wondered what happened to Clint and Barney. He'd figured they'd just fallen out of touch. It made him a little sad, but he hadn't let himself dwell on it too much. Now, he was surprised at how thankful he was to have Clint here, though.

The idea that the postcards meant something to Clint made a warmth settle in Phil's chest. He was glad that they'd been appreciated, at least.

He gave Clint a weird look at the brother comment. He honestly had no idea what Clint was talking about. Had he and Barney had a fight? Poor guy. Phil knew that he didn't have other family. It must have been hard if he and Barney were fighting to this degree.

"You can stay as long as you want." Phil had the space. He wouldn't turn away a friend, even if they hadn't spoken in a while. "I mean it. You're not in the way." His other hand went to make soothing motions on Clint's back.

There was a warmth that settled in Clint's chest. Not because he had been able to talk about how much having someone out in the world meant to him. But because Phil's fingers were running through his hair right now. He hadn't felt this safe in so long. He almost hated what he wanted to ask Coulson to do. It wasn't right. Not for Phil. It was right for him. He knew he wasn't safe to be around even if he wanted to be lulled into that sense of belief that when he was under a roof of someone who made him feel the way no one else had made him feel. If only it was just by postcard just saying 'hello' usually.

That's why most of the circus folk laughed at it. Because 'hello' didn't mean anything. It just meant that someone out there was humoring him because he probably had twelve cats and no social life. Clint defended Phil. Offered up that he was in the army. That he was going to college. That he was infinitely better than anyone there. Better than he was.

Since Phil was rubbing his back, he may have felt the gun Clint had tucked in the back of his pants. The gun he was all ready to offer him. A smile tugged a bit on his lips, arms still wrapped around the other man as he listened to his offer. "Prolly not that long...You probably won't even know 'm even here."

Phil did notice the gun. He wasn't really sure what to do with that knowledge. It only emphasized that Clint was clearly in some kind of trouble. Phil's urge to help was overwhelming. Clint needed help and he'd come to Phil. Phil would have wanted to help, anyway, but being asked only intensified it.

"Maybe I want to know that you're here. I don't mind having a guest, Clint." It would be easier to offer more help if he knew what was wrong, though.

He sighed and moved his hand down quickly to slip his hand under Clint's shirt and grab the gun. "So tell me what this is for and what's really going on. Please."

People with the overwhelming need to help were...non-existent to Clint. He was just hoping Phil would have pity on him for a moment just so he could help a guy out. Public menace...right here. Clint didn't know how to process the situation and make it come out clear, concise and rational to the other man without thinking he had just allowed a crazy man who thought he could turn into a wolf when it was a full moon. Clint was sure Phil would just suggest a nice therapist after that. As well as sleep with one eye open until the younger man was out of the house. He didn't want that.

He wanted to come back with a quip about him not noticing Clint there but Phil had already started holding the gun in his hand. To lie...or not to lie. The truth was more ridiculous than he wanted it to sound. The request was pretty grim. But it was also a benefit. "...cos I want you to shoot me with it, Phil." He straightened up, squaring his shoulders. "I wasn't kidding. I ate my brother." There were better ways to go about this, he's sure. But right now he just wanted to get Phil on edge enough to do this for him.

Phil pulled back, gun still tight in his grip. He felt to make sure the safety was on. "Jesus Christ, Clint. No, I'm not going to shoot you."

He pulled the clip out of the gun. "What are you even thinking? What happened? Sit down and talk."

Phil was pretty sure that he deserved some talking, at the very least. Not seeing someone for years an then having them show up asking to be shot? Yeah, that needed some explaining. A lot of explaining, really. A whole mess of it, especially when it came with sentences like I ate my brother like that made any fucking sense.

"Maybe start at the beginning."

Clint scowled when Phil made sure the safety was on. When he pulled the clip out of the gun he felt his heart sink. "No, Phil you have too. Please." He was begging, it sounded as pitiful as it felt as he stepped a little closer to him. He wanted it to be by someone who gave him some sort of freedom from the world he had grown up in. He wanted it to be from someone who made him feel the hope Phil had. No one else came to mind but Phil. Barney had...the situation was changed from when it happened with Barney. Clint had done so on a full moon -- he had asked him. He had changed. The struggle hadn't exactly been that long. His brother fired too late. Clint had been too quick for him.

"I need it, Coulson." Clint moved over, taking Phil's hand by the wrist that held the clip, trying to lead it back to the gun itself. "'m too dangerous 'n there's no way to fix it 've tried." He had really meant to come sooner. To be around Phil more.

"It'd sound ridiculous..."

"No." There was more authority in his voice now. He dropped the clip and kicked it under the bed. "You don't just show up and... Jesus, Clint."

He flipped his arm around Clint's so that he was gripping Clint's arm, too. Blindly, he placed the gun carefully on the dresser behind him. He brought that hand up now to Clint's shoulder.

"Clint, please just tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if you don't tell me." Because what Clint was asking for, he couldn't do that. He wouldn't.

"Yes." He all but growled back. Clint never responded well to authority before. He wasn't going to start now. He does what he wants and right now all he wanted was this. He was so close to feeling...something anything. Phil was just taking that away with his actions that the deep, animalistic growl rumbled from deep within his chest. He didn't mean for it to happen. It just did before he forced himself to calm down.

"I killed my brother. Isn't that enough reason for you to kill me?" Not that Barney was a saint, mind you. Most people were relieved he was gone. If only because...well, he was just a bad person. Even Clint knew it. Clint gritted his teeth together, taking in another deep and calming breath. "I got bit by a werewolf...on a camping trip I was with some friends. And 've been lookin' for a way out ever since...you can be my way out. I want it to be you, Phil." He could save him. Right?

Phil's heart was beating in his chest. Clint's admission and that growl echoed in his ears. He shook his head, anyway. He couldn't kill anyone without reason and likely couldn't kill Clint at all. "I can't. You can't ask me for something like that." It wasn't fair. His voice was gettig a little shaky.

"Take a deep breath." And then Phil took one of his own, because holy shit. There was a lot of information happening and some things were making a lot more sense than others. Barney was dead, that much he could tell. He knew that he'd been Clint's only family. No wonder he was upset. Phil could help him, though. He could be there for Clint while he got through this.

"You were attacked by a wolf?"

Clint took in another deep breath before pulling away from him. This had been...a complete waste of his time.

"'m good." He ran his hands down his face, concealing the look of disappointment on his face. He wanted this. He had to have known that Phil wouldn't have given it to him without an explanation. Not like Barney. Phil was a genuinely good person. Clint didn't believe those existed anymore. He shook himself out for a moment, turning away from Phil as he flexed his hands. Rolled his shoulders. Tried to regain himself, his composure before he allowed himself to fly off the handle and do something he'd regret. Allow something to happen that he would never be able to forgive himself for. He could learn to live with Barney's death -- he was his brother, he missed him. He loved him, it didn't mean he had to like him. Love and like were two different things in Clint's book especially when it came to his brother.

"The attack wasn't that very exciting. The two other people I was with died on scene...I was supposed to be in the hospital for weeks." He was released forty-eight hours after he was admitted because nothing was too life-threatening it seemed. "You don't believe a word of this, do you?"

Phil shook his head. Of course he didn't believe this. It was crazy. "Clint, I get that you've been through some kind of trauma. You're having a hard time wrapping your head around it. It's okay. I'm here for you." His voice was soft now, its usual calm, soothing tone. "Please just calm down and let me help you."

Whatever Clint had seen must have been bad if he was this distraught. Phil wasn't sure what to do, but he had to do something. Sane people didn't just show up asking to get shot. Clint needed help and Phil wouldn't hold that back.

"You can stay here as long as you need to. We'll figure this out together." Phil didn't turn his back on anyone. That just wasn't how he operated.

Clint's annoyance level was reaching maximum at this point. Of course he didn't believe him. Clint knew he honestly had no control over himself. Over anything that was happening to him. He wanted to hear the words that were coming out of his mouth for years from someone. Anyone. Just not right now. "I am calm!" Clint all but snapped out, his voice lower than before. Clint had figured out a solution and Phil had kicked it under the bed. Clint's eyes was the first thing to usually announce the change, he knew this. He could feel the difference even without someone having to tell him as they shifted from his typical blue to something that was a far cry from anything normal.

"I'm calm. I want you to fix this, Phil." He didn't plan to stay. He didn't plan to put Phil in that sort of danger. Not when it would be his blood on Clint's hands. Clint stepped a little closer to him, scowling.

Phil stood his ground. Phil had been shot at in the desert. One man was never going to intimidate him. Still, he couldn't hide the startled look when Clint's eyes started to change. Something was wrong. Something weird was happening and Phil had to be dreaming or drugged or something, because that's not normal.

"I can't. I can't shoot you. How could you think that I could?" Anything else. He'd do anything he could to help Clint, but he wouldn't kill him. He couldn't do it. Couldn't Clint see that it was cruel of him to ask for that? Phil didn't want to hurt people. He didn't want to kill anyone. He wanted to help them.

Not drugged. Not dreaming. Just...not really in his element. Clint would forgive you sooner or later for not believing him. Right now, he wasn't sure if it was going to be sooner. Or later. Clint grit his teeth together as he allowed himself to think it over. Why had he come here? For Phil to commit murder? Or for Phil to save him? Clint wasn't entirely sure. The idea of Phil saving him from something he couldn't save him from seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. "Cos I got no one else to ask..."

He was sure. A large part of him that was silenced by the need to run was also the large part of him that recommended Phil for him to run towards. For him to hide with. "You barely know me. 'n I have no one else, Phil." He didn't want to be a monster. He didn't ask for this. It was the wrong place, wrong time. Clint moved back a little. Away from the other man.

Even if Clint believed this would save him, Phil couldn't. It was murder to him, plain and simple. The sound of Clint's voice, though, and the way he says that he has no one, it struck Phil right in the chest. "Clint..."

He followed after Clint as the other man tried to step away. "Just help me understand and I will help you figure this out. I promise." He had no idea what was happening or what he could do for Clint, but he would do whatever he could. Anything Clint needed other than that. Phil could offer him a place to stay, though, and a support system.

Most of the time, he loved being crowded. He liked being surrounded by people who wanted to do him some good. It didn't happen often (ever really). But right now he didn't want that. He wanted what he asked for and he wasn't entirely sure that was what he wanted. Who wanted to die? Clint still had years to live, but living them as a danger to the people around him wasn't what he wanted. "How can I help you understand when I don't even know how to wrap my brain 'round it, pal?" Clint sighed a bit, trying to control himself. In times of great stress it was typically easier for him to retreat into the back of his mind. To allow what he was to come out and deal with it.

Last time he dealt with it like that. It didn't end up pretty.

His blood was already boiling. His skin itchy and he knew...he didn't have the willpower to control it. Regardless of whether he wanted to or not. He just needed to calm down now. And now all of sudden instead of being one forced into this situation by bad luck. He was pulling Phil into it. Well, he felt like crap. "'m sorry, Phil. 'm sorry I came here." The tunnel vision was the next to start and he knew he was getting too far gone. The window was too far that way and he was pretty sure he could lock himself up in a closet. Another room. Away from Phil.

Both of Phil's hands went to Clint's biceps in a firm grip. "Clint, look at me. It's okay. It's going to be okay. Whatever this is..." And, honestly, Phil had no idea what he was dealing with here. "We'll figure it out. Together."

He ignored the way Clint snapped at him. The man was upset. Phil could understand that much. He wouldn't take it personally. Whatever was happening, Clint needed help. He needed a friend and even he'd said that Phil was all he had, though being the only option wasn't the only reason Phil wanted to help him. He would have offered help no matter what. Clint needed him and he was there. Phil was nothing if not a loyal person.

"Just breath with me." He took a slow, deliberate breath and then another. He just needed to help Clint calm down.

Clint allowed his eyes to meet Phil's, finding the grip the other man had on him grounding to say the least. Keeping his head in the game where it could spin off somewhere else. Somewhere that he wouldn't believe to be as pleasant as this. "Yeah...okay." He nodded in agreement because he wanted so much to believe whatever was coming out of Phil's mouth at this point he'd believe him if he just out of the blue said unicorns were real at this point. Anything to keep his mind leveled at this point. He focused on his voice. The look in his eyes. His...scent. Clint took another deep breath, following after Phil's instruction with ease.

"'m good now." He mumbled under his breath, taking in another deep breath for good measure. He stifled a short, relieved laugh. "I'm good...thank you." He hadn't been able to do that on his own as far as this all had gone. He had been afraid he was too far gone to pull back as he rested his head on Phil's shoulder. "I should really...go or somethin'. Last thing you really need is this."

Phil's arms went back around Clint without hesitation. Clint needed him. He needed this and Phil wasn't going to deny him.

"You can't go. I'm just going to worry about you, so you have to stay." It was true. "Please. Clint, please let me help you. I want you to stay here." He brought his hand up, fingers moving through Clint's hair. If he were to believe Clint, he... what? He was a werewolf now? It made no sense. Of course, there wasn't really any explanation that made sense. He'd seen Clint's eyes change. Something was different. Something was wrong. Whatever it was, there had to be a way to fix it. He wouldn't let Clint just give up.

There was a hint of skepticism in his eyes.

"I don't wanna hurt you..." Clint clung onto the ideals he held for Phil. That he was...perfect, essentially. He didn't doubt those ideals even now. They just made him feel even safer. That he could cling to those images he thought when it came to Phil. When it came to Phil...he imagined a lot of things. Sometimes he wished he had been older when they met for the first time. Life probably would have been a lot easier for him if Phil had just taken him home. Clint sighed a bit before giving in and nodding. Somehow, he knew the other man would just come looking for him whether he wanted him too or not. "If anything happens, you'll do it right? I don't want to hear you say no. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did anything to hurt you."

for theshield_agent

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