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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

"You won't hurt me." He said it with complete conviction. "I'm trained. I can defend myself just fine, but I don't think you'll try to attack me." He really would follow Clint if he left. Clint needed help and Phil was going to give it whether he wanted it or not.

He kept his hand moving in Clint's hair. "Trust me, okay? Just stay and let me help." It was stupid of him to feel this attached, but he couldn't help it. He'd kept in touch with Clint for as long as he had for a reason. He should be scared. He knew he should be, but for some reason, he trusted Clint and he wanted to help him. He should have been there helping already.

If Phil had known.

If Phil had known that Clint would never allow any individual to be close to him like this, he would've expected a puzzled look on the other man's face. If Phil had known that Clint felt a sort of comfort in him that he didn't in anyone else, he might have looked at him a bit odd. But Phil didn't know. Clint trusted Phil because he had reached out to him when no one else would. Clint had met many people in his life. The only constant was the people at the circus and his brother. Everyone else was in and out of his life as quickly as he had met them. This was the first time there had ever been someone tangible that he felt a connection with. Someone he trusted (maybe he was a little infatuated with him), but Clint felt safe there. "I do trust you...stupid thing, you were the first one that came to mind." Even if it was with the half-baked idea that he could get Phil to shoot him.

He was silently glad he didn't. A part of him was, at least as he wrapped his arms around Phil. "Guess 'm stuck here, huh? I would go get my stuff...but I don't have anythin'. It helps, right?" He laughed a bit.

Phil was a little surprised. He hadn't expected Clint to give in so easily, but he was thankful. Now he could put energy into helping Clint instead of trying to convince him to stay. For a little while, he just held Clint tightly.

"Anything you need that I don't have, we can get later." He knew what Clint was like. He knew that he wouldn't want anything ridiculous.

"So... tell me exactly what happens. I saw your eyes started to... do something. What else?" He needed to know what he was dealing with. He needed to know what was going on in Clint's head if he was going to help.

Clint was still a flight risk. Don't get the wrong impression, Phil. He was just a good liar. Even to himself.

If he was honest with himself, his entire life was in a backpack he had left outside the window. The younger man didn't let go of Phil for the longest time (in his mind it felt like years). He didn't want to move from where he was because he actually felt somewhat safe. He didn't actually know from what. He just felt safe. Safer than he did when it came to a lot of things. When it came to everything that was happening to him. "It's actually just a backpack I dropped outside the window. Not a lot of stuff." He'd brought...mostly the postcards that he used as a pseudo-shield against anything that was happening to him. It kept him grounded. A person would see it as Phil kept him grounded. He would believe it.

"Well...um...werewolf stuff really." Clint isn't really an expert on it, Phil. "I get really sick and moody 'round the full moon then I change and if anything's there...I attack it. 've been keepin' myself contained for the most part. Either locked away somewhere or somewhere remote. Away from the general public. I turn into something, 'm sure. I black out for most of it...don't remember the mornin' after. It's not really that fun." Traveling cross-country was not a good idea in his mind when he looked back on it. There had been one or more times he just found a truck stop and barricaded himself in until the next morning. "I think I left a sudden string of livestock killings before I found you. 'n one casualty that I know of."

Phil really couldn't care less about livestock. Dead people would be a huge worry, but livestock were just livestock. And Barney... there wasn't really anything Phil could do about that. He certainly wouldn't blame Clint when it was so clearly out of his control. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting their little brother punished in a situation like this. If it had been his sister, he would have forgiven her without question.

"Grab your backpack and we'll get you settled. I'm sure you could use a shower and a hot meal... so I'll order one." Clint didn't need to get poisoned. He could order them a pizza and pull out the spare bedding so Clint could take the couch.

He made a mental note to check on when the next full moon was. They needed to get ready for that, most likely. He wasn't sure what the best option would be, but they could figure it out together. Maybe it would be easier on Clint now that he wasn't alone.

If Barney had been an upstanding, understanding person like Phil had been. There might have been no question. But Clint knew his brother and what he carried with him. He knew there wouldn't be one ounce of forgiveness in his brother's eyes when he finally got his wish to die and reunite with the other man in Hell. It was something Clint just believed he would have to face on a later date. When he was less traumatized at the events that had occurred so shortly and in rapid succession in his life rather than anything else.

He laughed at that, shaking his head a bit. "You jus' as bad at cookin' as I am, Mr. Coulson?" He chuckled as he started walking towards the hallway so he could head down and get his backpack. What Clint could have really used was what he got. Someone to support him. Someone who didn't fear physical contact with him that he really just wanted to hold until everything just wasted away.

Clint had already had his calender, marking down the days. If he remembered correctly. He had about a week. A week to brace Phil on what was going to happen and how to prepare for it. Or a week to find somewhere suitable to hide until it was over and hope to everything that he didn't hurt anyone in the process. Clint stopped at the foot of the stairs, turning and looking up at the other man. "Why are you doin' this for me, Phil? Openin' your house to me." No one was this nice. No one.

Phil had a strict idea of what kind of person he wanted to be. He worked hard to be that person. He wanted to be a good person. The kind of person others could look up to. "Why wouldn't I? You need help, Clint. I want to help you." Being that person wasn't really very much of a struggle for him, if he was honest. He really did want to help.

He rested his hand on Clint's shoulder to guide him into the hall and down the stairs so they could get his bag. He wasn't surprised that Clint couldn't cook, either. It wasn't as if he lived in conditions that encouraged it. Phil had no excuse other than a lack of effort. He was just too busy to bother learning more than the basics. "I'll get you a towel and then I can order a pizza while you shower... unless you want something else. Is there anything you're in the mood for?"

"I know...it's just...why?" Clint was just curious to see what his answer was. Clint just wanted to know what made him tick or come up with something like this when all Clint wanted was the easy way out inside of the pain of living through it. It was painful. Not just life in general. But the stuff he had to go through typically caused him to black out. He figured after a while he'd just get used to it. "I'm jus' some guy you met at a bar once. Now you're offering your home to me."

Clint would put some effort into it now that he was there. He didn't have any skills that made it marketable for him to get a job and he didn't want to deal with people until he was steady on his own feet. "Pizza's good. The kind with everythin' on it. Haven't had much of anything but doritos and gas station food. Not a fantastic diet plan." Clint was in the mood for a lot of things. Sleep. Potentially just ending up with his arms wrapped around Phil again, breathing him in and allowing the other man to take over every sense in his body. It was what kept him from grabbing the gun from his hand and just shooting himself when Phil had initially said no. Clint stepped over to the door, holding it open for a moment as he turned towards Phil again. "'ll go grab it. You can go get the towel...we'll meet in the middle." He winked with a smirk tugging at his lips.

His fight or flight response was beginning to kick in. The pros and cons Clint was already listing in his head when it came to staying here with Phil was that the cons were an extremely LONG list while the pros were extremely short. He could run. He knew he could. He'd feel bad about it. But it was in Phil's best interests. Clint wanted Phil to help him. He wanted that safety. But he didn't want to put Phil in danger for his own mental health over all of this. The decision made itself as Clint shut the door behind him and started moving around the house. Grab his bag and go. It was for the best.

After Clint left the room, Phil grabbed an extra towel and some sweats for Clint. He set them in the bathroom and started the shower so the water would have time to heat up. Next, he went over to his takeout menu pile to figure out dinner.

Then he realized that Clint was taking an awfully long time to run downstairs and just grab his bag. "Damn it."

Phil sprinted down the stairs and out the door, nearly tripping over his own shoes on the bottom landing. He'd never forgive himself if Clint just ran off and he was out there alone when Phil could have helped him. He couldn't go through this alone. He shouldn't. Not when Phil was here. Why be alone for no reason?

He was out the door before he realized that he was barefoot and in a T-shirt, cool breeze hitting his skin. He ignored it. "Clint!"

A stab of guilt had went through him as he had stopped, picking up his backpack and silently musing over his mental list of pros and cons. Phil didn't know what he was getting himself into. He didn't expect Phil to realize the severity of the situation and the danger that Clint posed to, well, everything. He had shouldered his backpack and started moving. He didn't run, apprehension about leaving was still settled in his gut. He (subconsciously) knew if he ran then Phil would never see him for as long as he lived. Unless he went out looking for him but still, Clint knew how to disappear and he could for long periods of time. He had a good habit of keeping his head down. He knew how to live off of whatever he needed too at the time even if he didn't believe in taking advantage of the kindness of strangers.

Or Phil.

Clint was already half-way up the street when he knew Phil must have put everything together. He nearly stopped in his tracks when he heard his name called and knew he had to keep moving. "Sorry, Philly." He muttered under his breath as he started to run. He had been fast before he was bitten. When he was just some normal guy. But now that he was a werewolf he was faster than...well, a lot of people.

Phil knew that if he let Clint run, he wouldn't see him again. He wasn't stupid. He took off running after Clint, ignoring the cold ground and the pebbles his bare feet were hitting. He needed to stop Clint from running away. He didn't even really know why. He just knew.

"Clint! Stop!" He was so thankful for his army training. There was no way he could have kept up when he was younger, but he was in great shape now.

He'd pulled the door closed on the way out. It was unlocked, but he wasn't even worried about anything but getting Clint to stop and come back. He'd worry about the cold and his apartment later.

"Please!"

Clint briefly glanced over his shoulder to see the other man running after him before starting to move faster. He didn't know why he was even following him. Most people would just let a guy go considering all the baggage he was carrying through their front door. He wanted to scream back at him 'no' but words failed him. Instead he just turned the corner, continuing to run before turning another street. Essentially...he was going in a circle around the block. He could have just been trying to throw the other man off. Or he was just...listening to the nagging voice in the back of his head that said 'well, maybe we need him'.

He didn't listen to people. He told himself what he did was all because he wanted to do it, fuck everyone else. Clint slowed to a stop. The only good thing about this was he hadn't broken a sweat and he didn't need to stop and catch breath as he double-backed. He found somewhere to hide since he was out of the other man's line of sight long enough to hide and watched him as he ran passed him. Now he didn't know if he should just slink off into the darkness or apologize profusely to Phil for making him run barefoot after him. Undoubtedly damaging his feet as he rolled out of where he had tucked himself in, staring at Phil for a moment as he bounced from one foot to another. Making it apparent that he was ready to move when he could before finally speaking up.

"You know, it's cold 'nuff that you could get sick running around barefoot like that Phil." He didn't feel any safer that he had remained ground level as he looked around the houses that lined the streets. He chewed the inside of his mouth for a moment, still bouncing. Close to begin pacing. "You should go back home 'fore you get sick."

"Well, I wouldn't be running around out here if you had come back inside instead of trying to run away." It was natural cause and effect. If Clint was going to run, Phil was going to chase him. He said it as if he had no choice. He really didn't think that he did have one. He'd said he would help Clint, so he would. He was a man of his word.

Now that he was staying still, though, it really was chilly. He wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing at his bare skin and trying to keep the warmth he'd built up from running.

"So, if you're worried about me, maybe you shouldn't make me chase you out into the cold." He gave Clint a look. "You can't just show up and ask for help and then bail. I'm not going to let you do that. Come back and take that shower and eat pizza with me. We'll figure this out. You and me."

"Well...for all intents and purposes, I was hopin' you wouldn't have noticed for another ten minutes." He was going to steal one of Phil's neighbor's cars and disappear into the night. It wasn't a good thing but he figured it was much better than going the way that he initially thought up and looking to Phil for help. His brow quirked up when Phil started rubbing his arms before moving to shrug off his backpack, pulling off his jacket and holding it out to him.

He gave Phil a look right back, pulling his backpack over one shoulder. "I...don't think you want to get messed up in all of this, Phil. I was tryin' to give you a quick way out." Even though Phil had said already he didn't want a way out. He just wanted to help him. Somehow, Clint thought he was under-qualified for the task. He figured he would just have to deal with the repercussions on a later date as he nodded in agreement. "You're pretty quick, didja know that?" He looked over to him as he walked over to his side, figuring Phil might feel a little better that he wasn't going to run away if he stayed somewhat close.

for theshield_agent

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject