Avengers Imagines

Broken Clint Barton X Insecure!Reader

Requested by AlexStark21 thank you! I'm so sorry its like 3 weeks late! I'm so sorry, I hope you aren't too upset.

TRIGGER WARNING! I THINK! JUST BE FOREWARNED, IF YOUR NOT INTO THIS STUFF, PLEASE DO NOT READ!

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Broken

ˈbrōkən/

adjective

1. having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.

No longer in working order, huh? That sounded a bit understated, for you at least. You were beyond fractured and no longer in one piece. Try a million. Those pieces were shattered by past loves, deaths, and your own hands. They had all taken your heart, your mind, and your soul, beating them until it was fine dust, letting blow away, as they walked off without so much as a pacing glance. It didn't take long for the rest of your body to come crashing down after it's most vital necessities were thrown away. So you hid in the darkness, your body slowly betraying you as you watched it become skinnier and skinnier. The scars on your wrists and thighs became more prominent as well. Oh well, another reason to stay inside.

"(Y/N)?" A soft knock on the door interrupted your fitful sleep. You groggily sat up, clothes wrinkled, hair greasy, life a mess.

"Clint?" You asked sleepily. You opened your bedroom door, the light seeped through the crack as it invaded the shadows you so often sought comfort from.

"Yes its me, can I come in?" He asked, you saw him holding a take out bag of Panera.

"Yeah, come on." You sat back down on your bed.

He turned on the light and you tried to cover up the hiss that erupted from your lips. You shaded your eyes as they adjusted to the artificial light. Clint took in a sharp breath, looking around at your 'room'. Pigsty was more like it. Dirty clothes lined the walls, half the sheets weren't even on your bed, rusty razor blades were wedged into the wood panels. He had hoped to see food wrappers among the litter, but nothing.

"I brought some food." He said, holding up the bag.

"Not hungry." You mumbled, but your stomach groaned from the absence of food.

"Yes, yes you are. Quit telling me you aren't. I'm sick of the lies." Clint replied, hurt passed over his face, but then quickly recovered.

"Fine, give me that." You reached out for the bag, taking out chicken noodle soup, a club sandwich and two cookies. You decided you wanted the soup and handed the sandwich to Clint. You ate in silence, you ate more than you wanted, but you didn't eat anything yesterday, so you let it slide.

After you finished, it was awkward, neither of you wanted to talk about the elephant in the room.

"(Y/N)," Clint started.

"No Clint, not today, not now." You held up your hand, signaling him to shut up.

"No," He growled, taking your hand lightly and not letting it go. Your eyes went wide. "You will listen to me. You have put this off far to long and I won't watch your body or your spirit wither away to nothing. I have tried my best to have you eat, to stop the bleeding, to make you smile again. But you say No Clint, not today. Well (Y/N), today is that day."

"Clint, I can't, it's too much for me." You yelped when he attempted to pull you up by your wrists.

He immediately pulled down the sleeves of your sweatshirt to reveal fresh slices down to the crease of your elbow. His eyes had shown fury, hurt, and guilt. He slowly pulled you up, and walked you to the bathroom. He gingerly rolled up your sleeves and washed away the blood. Your eyes were full of unshed tears.

"I'm so broken Clint, how can you want to fix me?" You sobbed as he dried off your arm. He stopped, looking at you with disbelief in his eyes.

He took you into his warm embrace and talked. "Because I don't want the smiling (Y/N) to be a memory. I don't want to see a broken, bloody, and abused (Y/N) anymore. It hurts, damn it hurts so much. There is no way I could ever leave you, broken or not. You mean the world to me, and I will fix my world as much as I need to. I need you to see how much you mean to me."

You cried a little harder with each sentence. He stroked your hair and rubbed circles around your back.

"How can you pick up all the pieces?" You asked.

"I'm Hawkeye, I can think of something." He smiled gently.

And for the first time in a long time, you laughed. A laugh so genuine and pure you cried some more. The familiar yet distant feeling of laughing you missed so much was enough, it was enough to convince you to get the help from Clint.

"See? Its a rough road to recovery, but just that one simple laugh got you started. I had already picked up one piece." Clint smiled, his eyes gleamed.

"I guess you have."

Broken may mean fractured or damaged, but it does not mean broken beyond repair.