A Second [Clint Barton x Reader]

Can We Make This Work?

Part 12
***
Clint, despite not having been to the compound in many years, knew his way around like the back of his hand. He took the shortest way possible to the gym, his fists clenched at his sides as he went. His pace was quick. He just wanted to be alone and blow off some steam. Though ultimately, he knew it wouldn't help. Once his anger was gone, he'd just be left with the pain in his chest of the things he'd done to the people he loved.

Pushing open the gym doors with a hard shove, he stood there a moment and listened as the door slowly and carefully clicked shut behind him. Once they had, he lets out a defeated sigh and brings his hands to his face, rubbing the stress from his eyes. When that didn't seem to help, he made his way over to some mats piled up next to the doors and sat on them, buried his face in his hands, and resting his elbows on his knees.

Rocket's words played over and over in his mind. He was very well aware he'd really hurt (y/n) when he left that day. Now thinking back, he knew he should have done it differently, and he wished he could have, but in the heat of the moment, logical thoughts couldn't be made with his grief stricken mind.

He had wanted to go back after a week, but how could he have? He knew he would have gone back and just continued to do the same crap he'd been doing since the day of the snap. He couldn't keep putting (y/n) through that. So he stayed away in hopes she'd just move on and forget him. That had been wishful thinking on his part. He should have known that she'd never give on him. Even now, with all the sh*t he'd put her through, she was still taking care of his a**.

And instead of marching back to her, apologizing, and trying to work on himself and their relationship, he'd stayed away and turned to a life of crime. Blamed all the criminals of the world for the loss of his children and wife. He was well aware that losing his wife was his own fault, but he wouldn't have lost her if Thanos hadn't killed his kids. He would have still been happy. Not this depressed, grieving, and rather worthless, he might add, version of himself.

Ever since he'd left, he had just wanted her back and now that she was back in his life, he was having trouble letting her in. She didn't deserve him. Not after all he'd done to her and other people. Rocket confirmed it too. Even after all this time, she was still deeply hurting, and it was all his fault. He'd kept his distance in hopes that he wouldn't be able to continue to hurt her, and yet all this time, that's all he'd been doing. God he was a failure.

With all those negative thoughts racing through his mind, he stood up and stormed over to a punching bag, hitting it as hard as he could without anything to protect his hand. It hurt a lot, but not as much as the pain he was feeling everywhere else. So he hit it again with his other fist. He was so angry at the world. At Thanos. At Rocket. And himself.

He punched that bag until he was out of breath. He didn't even notice the sorry state of his fists now. Bruised and cracked open. If he did notice, he wouldn't have cared.

Finally exhausted, his anger still present but more in the background, his softer emotions began to surface, and he placed his forehead on the punching bag. His two cracked hands, which now throbbed, held the bag in place as he rested against it. His vision blurred, so he shut his eyes, letting two tears drop from his eyes and onto the floor. He needed to keep it together.

In his haste to split the punching bag in half, he hadn't heard the doors to the gym quietly open and close, and he hadn't sensed the presence of another person in the room. When she finally spoke up though, he wasn't surprised she'd come for him. The fact she had though had him breaking down more.

***

You stood by the doors, watching Clint mercilessly hit the punching bag. You didn't want to interrupt, just giving him the opportunity to exhaust himself first and get some emotions out. When he finally seemed to hit a stopping point, you spoke up to let him know you were there.