[It's not that Clint's never had a back and forth joking bickering kind of camaraderie before. But it's different when it's an owner. Different when it's someone like Frank. Full of anger and guilt and grief and violence. Going from talking about the awful shit, from being a raw open wound of a person, to laughing about dildo fights, that's something different and it's also something necessary.
Because he's wondering if Frank would be alive right now otherwise. If there wasn't something even slightly more positive in his life. Is that putting too much on himself, to think he might be at least part of the reason Frank's still alive? Maybe that's a little much. But drawing the person out of Frank makes them both feel so much better. He's just a guy. He's just a guy when the horrors of circumstance get stripped away. Fury's not just a guy; Fisk's not just a guy; Loki would be furious enough to rival the sun's intensity if anyone suggested he was just a guy.
But Frank's just a guy who never asked for any of this. Certainly not for a mouthy, difficult collar and some asshole's dog. A dog that gives a very stubborn harrumph at being nudged so that there's space for, y'know, a human person on the bed. Frank's a guy who was a husband and father who served his country and decided he wanted to spend more time with his family, get a normal person job, did his duty, loved, cared, had friends, had brothers in his squad. He's a man. He's not some crazy tech genius or superpowered ghost in the wind or rage monster in a literal sense. He's a guy who had the worst possible shit happen to him.
And has to find reasons to keep going.
If that means killing bad guys, then fuck it, they can kill bad guys all day long. Clint figures he needs someone by his side for it, and it's not going to be Karen who otherwise has a stable life and can get herself in enough trouble all on her own. Here, on the ground, in the shit, Frank needs someone. And Clint's done his time being the guy on the ground in the shit as it is. Canada will wait another day. And another and another. Until Frank doesn't need him anymore.
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Because he's wondering if Frank would be alive right now otherwise. If there wasn't something even slightly more positive in his life. Is that putting too much on himself, to think he might be at least part of the reason Frank's still alive? Maybe that's a little much. But drawing the person out of Frank makes them both feel so much better. He's just a guy. He's just a guy when the horrors of circumstance get stripped away. Fury's not just a guy; Fisk's not just a guy; Loki would be furious enough to rival the sun's intensity if anyone suggested he was just a guy.
But Frank's just a guy who never asked for any of this. Certainly not for a mouthy, difficult collar and some asshole's dog. A dog that gives a very stubborn harrumph at being nudged so that there's space for, y'know, a human person on the bed. Frank's a guy who was a husband and father who served his country and decided he wanted to spend more time with his family, get a normal person job, did his duty, loved, cared, had friends, had brothers in his squad. He's a man. He's not some crazy tech genius or superpowered ghost in the wind or rage monster in a literal sense. He's a guy who had the worst possible shit happen to him.
And has to find reasons to keep going.
If that means killing bad guys, then fuck it, they can kill bad guys all day long. Clint figures he needs someone by his side for it, and it's not going to be Karen who otherwise has a stable life and can get herself in enough trouble all on her own. Here, on the ground, in the shit, Frank needs someone. And Clint's done his time being the guy on the ground in the shit as it is. Canada will wait another day. And another and another. Until Frank doesn't need him anymore.
One day at a time.]