Time to go

Sometimes thoughts hurt

Barney didn't cry in front of the Avengers. He was too shell shocked to show any emotion other than horrible, soul crushing blankness.

He knew his brother had lived through so much crap it was unbelievable he didn't spend his last years in a psych ward. He knew his brother had went through some, more like a lot, dark spots just in the time that they were growing up and he didn't even want to think what was creeping around in Clint's head.

But suicide?

Then the memories resurfaced, the same ones he had been running from since he started working for the swordsman.

But now, now they had caught him and pulled him in like quicksand.

Cold nights of sleeping on the porch when their parents forgot to unlock the front door they were so drunk. Hiding from their dad when he got a little angry and rough after a bottle of Morgan, then hiding bruises when they couldn't get away fast enough. Going almost completely deaf in a car accident which killed your mother. Finding your dad strung up from the rafters when you got home from school. Sitting alone outside instead of playing at the foster homes because the other kids threw rocks when Clint got too close. Being forced to be an acrobat so he didn't get kicked out and there was a chance he would get better food. Getting beat senseless by your own blood because he screwed up a single shot.

Clint had lived through it all basically alone. Barney was there for some of it, but not really. Dad always beat Clint harder, the bullies always chased him more. And what had Barney done? He had done nothing, he hid from dad so Clint got the brunt of the pain, he became a bully so the others wouldn't pick on him too.

How many if these things could I have stopped? Barney could hear his pulse in his ears. Could I saved Clint? Would I be hugging my little brother right now if I was braver? Stronger? More like Clint? If I stood up to the swordsman, to my father, to the kids in the foster homes?

But he hadn't. He was a spineless coward and a liar, just like Natasha had said.

Barney didn't cry in front of the Avengers, but he was crying now.
He was standing on the roof of Avengers tower bawling his eyes out next to a very faded smear of red.

He didn't recall how he got up here, vaguely he remembered himself asking how Clint died and Natasha explaining it quietly. Then Tony telling him that he was welcome to stay at the tower for as long as he wanted and the fellow they called Bruce leading him to a room with a huge bed and soft sheets. He remembered sitting down on the bed and Bruce leaving but between that and now was all blank.

So he stayed there on the roof, kneeling over himself racking his chest with raspy sobs while the sun set and the moon rose.

After awhile he found that he couldn't cry anymore, he was a dry as a bone. Standing up he looked over the side of the sleek building and almost got dizzy from it.

Did Clint stand here? Did he stare over this edge and contemplate death? Did he think of me, did he blame me for his unhappiness? Or did he even remember my name? Barney thought numbly. Was he scared or did he pull the trigger the same way he shot his first bullseye, brave and completely sure? Was he silently blaming every person who ever hurt him? Or was he blaming himself, apologizing to those he loved?

Did he forgive me? Did Clint, who had every right in the world to rip out my heart and put through a meat grinder, forgive me for everything I did? Or did he blame me, like he should?

Inside he knew the answer. God, the answer was pounding inside his skull like a jackhammer. Barney had tried to ignore it, but not know . He let the guilt weigh him down, he let it crush him. It wouldn't matter in a few moments anyway, he wouldn't be there to notice it.