Work Text:
Clint opened his medicine cabinet above the kitchen counter.
“Fuck!” he called out.
He had ran out of aripiprazole. The medication on which so much depended on – first of all, it reduced his tics but it was so much more to him than just the like cough linctus-tasting juice he had to take every evening. It was his lifesaver. His saver from his anxieties, his worries, his fears. Most of all the fear of being judged and seen as disgusting, as weird. The fear of not being loved but being rejected because of his tics.
Unpleasant memories slid before his inner eye.
The endless fights with his parents. His dad telling him to just “concentrate”, to "stop". His mum sighing and being visibly annoyed by his tics. His brother Barney making fun of him. And eventually he himself, who was always on guard for the next verbal punch in the pit of his stomach.
He pushed the memories away. He had to act. It was Saturday evening, his doctor and the pharmacies were closed tomorrow and on Monday a few of the Avengers including him had to go on a mission. Fuck. This looked bad. A few days he could live without the medication but after a while his tics would increase and he couldn’t risk their cover being blown by involuntarily making gagging noises when they were silently hiding somewhere.
There was only one solution – he had to tell Steve that he couldn’t go.
The fear welled up in his stomach quicker than he could handle. He couldn’t tell Steve. What would he think of him? An Avenger with tourette’s? The others would kick him out. He couldn’t lose this job, it was his life! But he was an endangerment for every mission to come if he would forget about his meds again. If he just hadn’t been this stupid and checked the medicine cabinet earlier!
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The fear grew. Clint’s heart beat in his throat. This was bad. This was SO bad. He started ticcing.
“And here we go...” he whispered into the empty apartment while squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back until it hurt. Gagging noises filled the room and were echoed by the walls.
After the tic-attack was over he filled himself a glass of water and rubbed over his hurting neck. Ouch.
His phone rang. It was Bucky, his boyfriend. They were freshly together and Clint was the happiest man alive but he hadn’t found the courage yet to tell him about his diagnosis. Every tic in Bucky’s presence he had tried to suppress or hide in a cough. If he had squeezed his eyes and Bucky had noticed it he dismissed it as that he had just gotten an eyelash in his eye.
He took the call.
“Hey babe!” Clint could hear Bucky smile through the phone.
“Hey..” If not happy, Clint forced himself to sound at least normal.
“Is everything alright, my love? You sound so… I dunno… exhausted?”
Well shit. Of course Bucky would notice.
Clint forced a laugh. “Yeah you’re right. Actually I am exhausted, I’m probably gonna go to bed soon.”
“Okay, call me if you need anything. And go to bed early and drink lots of tea!”
Clint smiled. Bucky was a true blessing.
“I will. I love you.”
“I love you too. Sleep well my dear!”
“You too”
He hung up.
***
It was in the middle of the night and Clint stood soaked in sweat and heavily breathing in the middle of his apartment. He just finished a two hour long workout and his target was peppered with arrows. Doing sports always reduced his tics and helped him sleep better. But he still had to text Steve and the others. Shit…
With a heavy sigh he reached out for his phone.
Avengers group chat
Clint: Hey guy’s, I’m so sorry but I can’t attend the mission on Monday. I got freaking sick and I have an awful headache.. can you @Natasha replace me?
Steve: Thanks for letting us know. I hope you get better soon. Tell us, if you need anything. :)
Natasha: You better rest in bed and sleep or I have to come over and whip your ass…
Clint: @Natasha Yes Ma’am
Bucky: Omg babe, are you alright?? Shall I come over?
Clint: I’m okay, no worries. You don’t needa come over. I’ll be sleeping anyways… otherwise Nat’s gonna beat me up -.-
Natasha: I’m serious Clint, go and get some rest – it’s 4:12 a.m.!!
Clint: Yeah I will, good night everyone
***
It was 1:20 p.m. and Clint was awakened by the sharp shrill of his bell. He grumbled. Why again hadn’t he taken out his hearing aids yesterday? Ah yeah right…he looked down on him. He had fallen asleep fully dressed.
“Ugh shit…” he mumbled and rolled down from his mattress.
If the bell didn’t stop he would get a headache immediately.
“YES! I’M COMING!” he shouted and made his way to the source of noise.
As he opened a worried looking Bucky stared at the crinkled appearance that was his boyfriend.
“B-Bucky? What are you doing here?”
“You said you were sick and I was worried. I brought you some soup…if- if you want of course.”
“Uhm- okay, yeah” He forced a smile “Come in!”
Clint stood in front of the kitchen counter looking for bowls and spoons as his wrist started to tingle. Fuck. He ticced by flipping his wrist back and prayed that he wouldn’t get a tic-attack in this very moment but it was too late already. Bucky mere presence had triggered it. He was a person who could potentially judge him for his tics which stressed Clint out which only led to his tics intensifying. It was a vicious circle. He could feel Bucky watching him, could feel his eyes darting on his back. He shivered. The tingling grew stronger all over his body.
“Bucky I-“ he stuttered without looking at his boyfriend. “I can’t do this, I uh-“ He couldn’t supress his tics any longer and snapped his head back.
Fuck. Now he had seen it. Bucky would judge him, be disgusted and disappear out of his life faster than Clint could look. But as he turned around Bucky still stood at the same spot and looked at him visibly worried.
“Clint, what was that? Are you okay? “
“I- I can’t tell you that. You should probably better go” Clint said desperately.
He squeezed his eyes shut and his head snapped back again.
“Fuck I…” He was close to tears. He couldn’t stand another human’s presence any longer.
He stormed into the bathroom, slammed the door behind him and locked it. He couldn’t supress his tics anymore and so he stood in front of the bathtub and shook his whole body. Bucky was right behind him and knocked on the door.
“Babe, are you okay? What’s going on?” There was worry in his voice but Clint was ticcing too much as that he could manage to build a sentence.
“Clint, talk to me! What can I do? What do you need?”
“Please, Bucky, leave me alone, please. I- I don’t want you to see me like this!” he called.
“I won’t go till I know you’re okay!” Bucky called back.
“Bucky, please I-“ he had to tic again and his neck started hurting from throwing his head back so much. He made choking noises and the embarrassment dared to crush him.
“Clint… why are you choking? Are you okay, are you drugged? Should I call an ambulance?”
Clint’s embarrassment now mixed with anger that his one and only wish of being let alone wasn’t accepted.
“Bucky, I have tourette’s okay?! Now just please, leave me alone. I am embarrassed and I don’t want you to see me like this!” he called being close to tears.
“I- I’m sorry, babe, I… I didn’t know that..” Bucky stuttered and Clint could hear that he let himself slide on the floor and lean against the door from the other side but at least he was quiet now. Clint silently started to cry. He just wanted to hide under his blanket until forever but until Bucky didn’t go away he was trapped in here. And this motherfucker was stubborn. Tears were running down his face and he did not intend to hold them back anymore. He was tired. Tired of hiding who he was, tired of being scared all the time, tired of the fear of rejection and judgement. He sobbed and just as Bucky he let himself slide on the floor and leaned against the door. Now they were only separated by the piece of wood.
“Clint?” He heard Bucky’s broken whisper after a while they just had set there in silence.
“Can you open the door? Please?” Bucky’s voice wasn’t demanding but rather shy and questioning.
With one sleeve Clint wiped off his tears and unlocked the bathroom door. As Bucky came crawled in he slid away from the door and exhaustedly leaned against the bathtub. Bucky sat down but avoided touching him. The minutes passed but they remained silent. Clint could sense that Bucky was too scared to address the topic. He didn’t want to hurt or pressure Clint into anything.
Clint slowly exhaled and leaned his head against the tiled wall of the bathtub.
“It started when I was about eight” he said. Clint didn’t look at Bucky. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the cupboard under the sink.
“Barney and I were still living with my parents and by the time I started to feel this tingling everywhere in my body. And I just had to do what this tingling told me to. In the beginning my tics weren’t that intense. I just had to squeeze my eyes or roll my head around. But then they slowly started to get worse and so did my parents and Barney’s bullying. We were constantly fighting about it. Neither of us knew what it was, I just knew I couldn’t stop it. And I told them. Again and again but they didn’t want to believe me. Instead, you needa know I was just hitting puberty, they thought I just wanted to provoke them by not stopping to tic. They told me to stop because it was annoying; I just had to ‘concentrate’ – a phrase that triggers me till today by the way – but it’s not that easy. By ‘concentrating’ they effectively meant that I should supress my tics. And lemme tell you, supressing is the worst.
Before Barney and I ran away we had one last big fight about it where I confronted them with their bullying but the only thing my father said to me was ‘We have to endure this too!’. It was always ‘tic or treat’ for me: tic – and I got the verbal treat in form of humiliation. And that was it for me. I knew it wouldn’t get any better so we ran off and joined the circus. But it didn’t get any better really. When I was fourteen my first ever girlfriend told me she found my tics ‘cute’ – which was equally worse cuz their fucking not! I’m not some kind of zoo animal that you can pet and find so ‘cute’ and it’s a fucking nightmare to live with. I’m just glad I didn’t tic when we fucked…”
Clint laughed bitterly.
“Barney and the others always used to mimic my tics and make fun of me but I just couldn’t help it, you know. One time a few kids who I thought were my friends came up to me and told me in the face that they had counted how much I had thrown my head back during a lesson. I screamed at them at how they could do that but they didn’t care and laughed it off. After I quit the circus and Fury hired me to join S.H.I.E.L.D. I finally was able to see a doctor who for the first time gave me a proper diagnosis and access to medication that reduced my tics. And the actual reason why I can’t go on that mission tomorrow is because I ran out of said medication and now I am a hell of a risk for the rest of the team. So yeah…”
Clint exhaled slowly and abashedly looked on the floor.
“Now you know… and if you don’t wanna stay with me I’d totally understand that, cuz I dunno if I would and-“
Bucky reached out to cup Clints face and kissed him on the lips.
“I’m not going anywhere, babe” he whispered and pulled Clint into a tight hug.
Clint’s eyes swam in tears.
“But- but how can you love me like this? I don’t love myself like that… I mean I can’t change that I have it but sometimes I hate it. You can’t imagine what a burden this is. I am constantly scared of rejection and that people find it disgusting and weird because I myself would find it weird too and…”
He started sobbing.
“Fuck… I just… I don’t wanna lose you, Bucky! I don’t wanna be afraid anymore. I just want people to like me.”
“Hey” Bucky gently cupped his face again. “I love you. I love you like you are. I love you with your tics and by that I don’t mean their cute but that they’re a part of you and I love every part of you. I don’t care about what other people think about it. I would never judge you for it because you can’t control it and it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault, Clint.”
Clint couldn’t believe what Bucky was saying because this was too good to be true. This couldn’t be true. He didn’t deserve this. He was a weirdo, an outcast. How could someone like Bucky love him like he was?
As if Bucky had read his thoughts he gently tilted up Clint's chin.
"Look at me, babe. I'm not going anywhere. I know it will take some time for you to accept yourself but I do and there's nothing you have to be ashamed of, Clint. And if there's anyone making fun of you I'll punch them. And about the medication – Tony can definitely get some for you before tomorrow. And now, should we microwave that cold soup of ours?”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Clint whispered and then they kissed each other long, deep and intimate – the way Clint had never been kissed by Bucky before. It was still a very long way to go, Clint thought to himself, but it was going to be okay someday.