[ They're too close, and Clint can't figure out how to pull back, disengage. Sam's mind nestled in alongside his like it belonged there. Easier, as they breathe, one looping thing, lungs inflating together. One, two, the uneven, not quite synchronized pulse under their palms the only thing.
Grounding, in a way he never expected. Reassuring, in a way it shouldn't be. But its Sam, and Clint trusts him. Trusts him with more than he expected, but he can roll with it. So Clint grunts, an affirmative, even if it's a piss poor one. Doesn't bother acknowledging the panic attack part, even though, yeah that's pretty much exactly what it feels like. Too much to think about -- he draws in a breath, another, scrubs a hand over his face. ]
Be better in a minute. [ Not false, but not necessarily the answer Sam was asking for. ] You?
[ It's easy, it's so easy. It's the two of them turning to each other on nights in the Raft, only magnified by the mental link between them. It's not the same as the ease between those in a brood, where Sam has to struggle to keep himself out of their heads and them out of his, an intimacy that's come too quick and too strong, it's...
Well, Sam doesn't know what it is. But he knows he signed up for this, for Clint, and he knows that for the moment, the press of their minds nesting so close together is a comfort more than anything else, as they slowly stabilize. Clint's not the only one who hadn't quite realized how much he trusted the other, but Sam can roll with it, too.
It's about the answer Sam was expecting, honestly, and at least it technically means that Clint's admitting that he's not doing great right now. When the question's turned back to him, he lets out a sigh, fingers pressing lightly against Clint's leg. ]
Got enough of my own nighttime crap coming back without having to deal with everyone else's.
[ Clint's aside, anyway, but he doesn't think he has to say that for Clint to know that Sam has no problem being there when Clint's sleeping troubles surface. Knows it's better not to say it, that Clint appreciates silent assistance more than attention being brought to it - and Sam lets it go, for now, because that's about where he's at with his own shit. Except he can't help but ask, ]
[ Breath in, hold, breath out -- again, again, again.
Sam's hand curls around his ankle and Clint rubs at his temples, easing down in little incremental inches. Their minds are nestled too close together, but it's okay for now. Good, good, trying to breathe comes easier and easier, and the foreign panic slips away.
There's a humorless little laugh, soft, and Clint's hold tightens just a tad. A reassuring little squeeze -- they're fine. ]
[ Breathe in, hold, breathe out - and Sam's right there with him, hearts beating a steady rhythm as they slowly calm down, settling back into themselves. Sam's always been able to ground better through touch - it's just usually not been with another person before. Maybe because it's not like he's been in a situation like this before, maybe it's just that he trusts Clint - but whatever, Sam can roll with it. He can breathe, ground himself in right now, and let everything else go.
Until there's nothing left but him and Clint, warm and steady, and there's comfort in that. In knowing that, for the moment at least, Sam won't ask about the crackle of blue and Loki's whispers, and Clint won't push at the frozen sensation of helplessness and technicolor explosions. Right now, they can just have this, let it be quiet and calm.
He squeezes back, acknowledging and returning the sentiment - they're fine. ]
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sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
i keep forgetting inboxes don't go into my labels s i g h
Grounding, in a way he never expected. Reassuring, in a way it shouldn't be. But its Sam, and Clint trusts him. Trusts him with more than he expected, but he can roll with it. So Clint grunts, an affirmative, even if it's a piss poor one. Doesn't bother acknowledging the panic attack part, even though, yeah that's pretty much exactly what it feels like. Too much to think about -- he draws in a breath, another, scrubs a hand over his face. ]
Be better in a minute. [ Not false, but not necessarily the answer Sam was asking for. ] You?
grips your shoulder I have the same problem
Well, Sam doesn't know what it is. But he knows he signed up for this, for Clint, and he knows that for the moment, the press of their minds nesting so close together is a comfort more than anything else, as they slowly stabilize. Clint's not the only one who hadn't quite realized how much he trusted the other, but Sam can roll with it, too.
It's about the answer Sam was expecting, honestly, and at least it technically means that Clint's admitting that he's not doing great right now. When the question's turned back to him, he lets out a sigh, fingers pressing lightly against Clint's leg. ]
Got enough of my own nighttime crap coming back without having to deal with everyone else's.
[ Clint's aside, anyway, but he doesn't think he has to say that for Clint to know that Sam has no problem being there when Clint's sleeping troubles surface. Knows it's better not to say it, that Clint appreciates silent assistance more than attention being brought to it - and Sam lets it go, for now, because that's about where he's at with his own shit. Except he can't help but ask, ]
Anything I can do, besides this?
no subject
Sam's hand curls around his ankle and Clint rubs at his temples, easing down in little incremental inches. Their minds are nestled too close together, but it's okay for now. Good, good, trying to breathe comes easier and easier, and the foreign panic slips away.
There's a humorless little laugh, soft, and Clint's hold tightens just a tad. A reassuring little squeeze -- they're fine. ]
Nah's good. Give me a minute.
no subject
Until there's nothing left but him and Clint, warm and steady, and there's comfort in that. In knowing that, for the moment at least, Sam won't ask about the crackle of blue and Loki's whispers, and Clint won't push at the frozen sensation of helplessness and technicolor explosions. Right now, they can just have this, let it be quiet and calm.
He squeezes back, acknowledging and returning the sentiment - they're fine. ]
Take all the time you need, man, I got you.