Chapter Text
He lays there in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
It’s 10 am, usually he’s out of bed at 6, some mission or emergency or habit gets him up.
Well he did wake up at 6, he just hasn’t left his bed.
He can’t fall back to sleep nor wants to, both feel like two much.
He feels like crap. This isn’t a new feeling, usually he ignores it, because the world is falling apart. Ignoring them because if he lets this slow him down, he’s a failure. Ignoring because if he doesn’t use every moment of his life training, he will be no help to anyone and will just be this gigantic fucking screw up.
Clint does have the energy to hit his head. He doesn’t know if he did it to stop the thought or to punish himself for not leaving his bed.
He doesn’t care, all he thinks is that he deserves it.
Clint feels vibrations from the speakers in the corners of his room, someone is yelling at him but he hasn’t put his hearing aids in today yet. He is probably being told to get out of bed. He doesn’t move, he wants to but he can’t.
The skilled archer, instead, curls into himself more on the bed.
Good job Clint, there is probably some emergency going on right now and you are staying in your bed like a fucking useless piece of shit. Just laying there doing nothing, it’s not like you do much for the team anyways. They are probably going to kick you out soon and this is going to be the last straw. At least show up and get your participation trophy, they are pitying you enough to keep you around so you should fucking take it. None of them like you anyways. They all know you're useless. You don’t bring anything or help in any way, I bet Natasha doesn’t even like you. I bet she blames Budapest all on you. She deserves too, it is all your fault, you killed a child. You aren’t a fucking hero. You are a piece of shit, you will always be one.
“ShutupShutupShutup.” Clint hits his head again.
Clint hadn’t noticed the hot tears pouring down his face.
“Shut up brain. Shut up.”
His thoughts do pause when he feels a fluffy presence next to.
Lucky seemed to have noticed that Clint was falling apart and wanted to comfort his dad.
The archer clings to the dog. He doesn’t let go. He knows he needs to go.
He just needs a minute.
He knows he doesn’t deserve it.
But he needs it.
Days like these have been more common lately. He doesn’t know why, he hates it. Clint feels like he is being lazy for wasting time in bed. Feels useless that he isn’t doing something productive. Usually on those days, he got lucky, no event or mission. When asked, Clint just lies and says he stayed up too late watching Dog Cop. No one questions him. However today, Clint seemed to be right about how he was getting yelled at earlier, because the mission alarm is going off.
Clint has to get up now, he doesn’t.
How manly of you! No wonder people don’t see you for a real man like Steve and Tony, you lay in bed for no fucking reason. You won’t ever be a real guy.
They need Hawkeye,
Well they don’t need you. They would be fine without you. They literally have a witch with magic.
Clint doesn’t budge. He knows he should but he can’t.
He brings Lucky closer to him and closes his eyes.
Useless piece of shit. You are wasting everyone’s time and money. They are going to send someone down here to wake you up, but when they see that you have been awake the whole time, they are just going to go, “Man that Clint Barton wasting everyone’s time when we could have been out there saving more lives. What a fucking liability.” “What a waste! We cover his health insurance and take him in even with his criminal record and he does this in return?!” “I know, right??? Let's get rid of this free loader” then boom! You are going to lose the only healthy family you had! But are they really your family? They all hate you anyways-
I KNOW! I FUCKING KNOW. PLEASE GOD FUCKING SHUT UP PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST SHUT UP.
Lucky at some point started pawing at his arms. He was hitting himself again.
Clint buries his head into Lucky, he knows someone is coming for him and he would rather die than let someone see that he cried.