@quickslver starter call
the archer is silent. slipping into the home and turning his aids off with a frustrated sigh. just another day of lectures. another day of ‘not good enough barton’ --- ‘get your shit together barton’. he was getting real sick and tired of giving it his all and being told it still wasn’t enough. one failed mission and suddenly it cancelled out all the good he’d done, all the successes he’d had over the years. lips were pressed together in a thin line. lucky attempted to approach him but he merely patted his head and kept walking until he found pietro on the couch. with the world silent around him, he doesn’t make a sound. ignores the cuts and bruises littering his body as he slips out of shoes. drops his bow and quiver on the ground then lays on the couch in front of piet. maneuving his way under the mans arms until his face is hidden away in the crook of the mans neck. a harsh, broken sigh pulling from his lips as he wraps around him. holding him tight as if he was the anchor keeping his sanity in place.











