in a mirroring state to debra’s, the only thing he could think of at the moment when she redirected his question was: i have to. it’s an obligation, a necessity, because other lives are at stake. his brother’s, his girlfriend’s, an entire building of people, all depending on him and clint’s plan to save everyone. it’s an obligation, because his brother is looking up to him again.
in the moment, the right here and now, the past didn’t matter. his mistakes, rage neverending, they didn’t matter at all. because it was the past, a combination of everything that was wrong about him. only the present mattered, because it was the present that brought in the change, change towards the good, and to prove to everyone that he was capable of that shange the past only mattered in one thing - – keeping the fight within. keeping the fight going. constants and variables.
burdened by the obligation on his shoulders ( and a personal vendetta to prove a point and to get his revenge ), he is still filled with determination. the fight is still within, the fire is still going. he looks back at her, contrating her softness with his inner drive, firece in its own rights.
“ ——– let’s go catch ourselves a clown. ”
she almost can’t believe this is her life now, with her perps being more and more like super-villains from some shitty comic book instead of normal humans with superiority complexes. it makes for easier identification, sure, but there’s certainly a lack of other perks when one bothers to sit down and try to compile a list.
debra looks at him for a moment longer ; his expression is set, clearly, his fingertips ready for a fight that she already feels might not come. at least not how they expect it. in fact, part of her wants to wait a second longer --- she has always been instinctive, never waits for backup and following her gut, but this is something else entirely and she really doesn’t want anyone else to die. these fuckers have already taken enough lives, so maybe a plan would serve both of them better than simply trusting to have a full tank of rage and enough bullets in her gun.
she doesn’t actually hesitate though, debra simply brushes her fingertips on her holstered gun to make sure it’s still there and nods. “ we’re gonna fucking rock the clown-hunting business. ” there’s a pause, she makes a grimace and looks back at him again, “ that was fucking shit, I ruined it. ruined the whole vibe you had going. just ---- pretend I didn’t say anything at all. just stoic fucking silence. ”
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
