[ It's way, way too much, the spike of anxiety and Sam's own shit mixing in with Clint's until he can't tell one from the other. Until the need to run and the fear of control becomes part of the frozen feeling of helplessness, until he's watching Riley explode from behind the shimmering glow of blue with whispers in his ear.
But Clint's there, breathing with him - a grounding weight under the curve of his fingers, and Sam can feel the echo of his pulse against Clint's palm. And suddenly the press of Clint's mind is reassuring instead of overwhelming, as Clint murmurs I've got you back at him and Sam knows he means it, settles into the confidence that he's not alone, that he's got a trusted ally at his back.
That just as much as anything else calms him down, clears the fragmented mess of memories and feelings from his mind until he can breathe easier - and he can tell Clint is starting to settle as well. Of course the downside of being entirely too much in each other's heads at the moment is that Sam can feel Clint start to compartmentalize, and hell Sam knows just how dangerous that can be long term.
Now's not the time to go into that, though, so instead Sam shakes his head. And keeps his hand curled around Clint's leg, although that one is more absent. ]
Felt like a panic attack, only I haven't had one that bad in years. [ It slips out without a second thought, and he pulls another slow breath in and out. ] Someone's having a bad night. How you doing?
[ And don't you dare try to bullshit him, Hawkeye. ]
no subject
But Clint's there, breathing with him - a grounding weight under the curve of his fingers, and Sam can feel the echo of his pulse against Clint's palm. And suddenly the press of Clint's mind is reassuring instead of overwhelming, as Clint murmurs I've got you back at him and Sam knows he means it, settles into the confidence that he's not alone, that he's got a trusted ally at his back.
That just as much as anything else calms him down, clears the fragmented mess of memories and feelings from his mind until he can breathe easier - and he can tell Clint is starting to settle as well. Of course the downside of being entirely too much in each other's heads at the moment is that Sam can feel Clint start to compartmentalize, and hell Sam knows just how dangerous that can be long term.
Now's not the time to go into that, though, so instead Sam shakes his head. And keeps his hand curled around Clint's leg, although that one is more absent. ]
Felt like a panic attack, only I haven't had one that bad in years. [ It slips out without a second thought, and he pulls another slow breath in and out. ] Someone's having a bad night. How you doing?
[ And don't you dare try to bullshit him, Hawkeye. ]