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she kept her eyes focused on her work, but when talk of therapy came up it was ava’s biggest tell. since she’d come back home from war, eye contact while discussing therapy was infuriatingly difficult for the soldier, “yeah, woke up attacking adrian one too many times. figured i’d get off my ass,” the humor was reflex, though it wasn’t a lie. she was lucky that he was strong enough to still be safe when that happened in the middle of the night. there’s a short pause, “while we’re sharing…” she raises her eyes now as she attempts to move the subject along, “him and i are getting kinda serious. things aren’t so bad anymore, ma,” ava now, compared to even a year and a half ago, is certainly an improvement.

bobbi nodded. she understands the same. lots of her and past significant other’s disagreements stemmed from her inability to talk about what she had been through. everyone was different in how they expressed their trauma. ❝ ptsd is very common in veterans of all war. in veterans of the iraqi war, it was shown in ten to eleven out of a hundred. ❞ while ava fell back on humor, bobbi fell back on facts. she can’t say what she means, so she communicates in other ways. you’re perfectly normal, ava, she wants to tell her.  ❝ serious... ? how serious ? ❞ she raised both eyebrows, though her tone was not unkind. she didn’t mind adrian. she wouldn’t say she trusted him with her daughter, though.

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❝ ah, work never sleeps for me, unfortunately. from shield to lark, i don’t think the barton family will ever see summer. ❞ 

“Summer’s just around the corner. I’m looking forward to spending all my days by the pool eating snowcones.”

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“hate that name,” his words a grumble that was low enough to be nonsensical, thoughts of flirting gone out of mind by the time that the real topic of discussion came up. it was a good question. he hadn’t spared much thought to it, before now, but that was less… a care, thing, more because - clint had always been the kind to take things as they came. this had been no different. “you want him to go here?” he was unusually somber. “school’s getting…- pumped full of weird gases, attacked - one thing after another. we already got one kid stuck here, bobs.”

she knew he did. just wanted to distract him enough to change the topic with a flourish. clint knows that bobbi would smack him if he called her barbara. god, she loathes to hear the name. even their wedding invites didn’t have it on them. ❝ i’m only bringing it up because of lark, himself, asking. ❞ she’s not sure about how she feels about it. she hadn’t actually answering him, just tsk-ed, and went on to ask what he wanted for dinner in rapid spanish. ❝ that’s ― that’s a very good point. i just... don’t you think it would be nice to have him closer ? ❞

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I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and Song of Despair

(via surqrised)

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Rose ‘sassy’ Tyler

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“My best friend who has a boyfriend kissed me. I feel like I’m sixteen or whatever again.” Except when she was sixteen the most relationship drama she had had was what to get Eli for his birthday.

❝ oh, infidelity. y’know, it doesn’t age well, but you’re quite young. very forgivable. ❞ she shakes her head. bobbi doesn’t know enough to judge. she was young, once. ❝ and what do you want to do about it, kate ? ❞

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ava busies herself with the small baton she’d been tinkering with in her hands, but continues, “finally got back to seeing someone. therapy.” sure, conversations like this were hard for the woman, but plenty of people told her they were necessary.if she’d learned one thing through the years, it was that at this point it was just better to be open with her parents.

❝ oh, ava, mi vida, ❞ bobbi pauses and lets out a breath of air she wasn’t aware she was holding. therapy. it’s a heavy word for bobbi. she was too analytical to last long in therapy. she can’t let things go and doesn’t like other people poking around in her head. she wishes it wasn’t so, though. ❝ that’s fantastic. i’m so proud of you. ❞

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❝ yes, they certainly are. ❞ she had it in her hands on a spy’s reflex. bobbi caught it with nimble fingers, taking a moment to examine it, lightly passing it between her hands to check the weight and balance. a cute little knife. she tilts her head to the side, dyed-blonde hair ( cut to shoulder’s length ) moving with her. ❝ that’s a relief, isn’t it ? ❞ she looks up at ziva with amused brown eyes. she’s almost uncaring. she’s ziva’s superior and bobbi doesn’t need to make her chastisement so obvious. she never has. ❝ oh, i’d love to hear. ❞

“my apologies-” it was a POOR offering, at this point. she had dropped the ball, so to speak. it wasn’t a usual occurrence for someone like ziva, but she wasn’t infallible - the well disguised switch blade had fallen from her bag when it had taken an unfortunate tumble, and now… well. NOW the little knife was on full display, clutched in the hand of an unsuspecting seventeenth doll patron. “that would be mine.” the repercussions of a situation such as this could range from ‘found in the nick of time’ to ‘disastrous’, ziva knew. and this… verged on the latter. “i can explain?”

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❝ clearly so. i thought it was obvious. ❞

“well. aren’t you just the shit then?”

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he still had his hearing. and he was aware, of course, that it was one of those ‘one small blessing’ type situations - but for a man who had come to rely on being able to see hand motions, especially in situations such as these when adrenaline ran high and the background noise was TOO much…- yeah. being able to hear, even if it was not in the most ideal of situations, was better than nothing at all. least. that was what he had to keep telling himself. better than nothing. better than his sight? not at all. if it was a choice ( and clint had thought fairly frequently on such things, especially around the time he’d last lived this rodeo ), then clint knew what he would SACRIFICE, but… did he want to think of the glass as half empty, or as half full? what was more useful, at present moment? for the good of the school, his friends, his family - he KNEW that it was the latter.

“bobbi?” he asked into the darkness, half sure he’d misheard a voice that he’d know - well. haha. blind - and half just pure and simple relieved. he wasn’t looking in her exact right direction, eyes settled somewhere over her head, and he realizes with a start that he doesn’t need any more verbal confirmation or the ability to SEE her to know that she’s right there, because - with her arms wrapped around him so tight, they’d close enough that he can smell familiar shampoo that he’d never forget. “i’m glad you’re-” alright. okay. fine. take your pick of filler words, because clint…- forgot about them all, completely, as she pulled away. “i haven’t seen him-” it’s bad wording. BAD, atrocious, terrible wording. he hasn’t seen anything for ten minutes, now, and the gears in his mind are only starting to turn, realization only beginning to sink in that if she was asking him… “you had him. he was with you, bobbi, i was- he was with you?”

she’s good in the chaos. she really is. it’s what she’s spent her life doing. being good in the chaos. bobbi can direct herself. she can force her body into something resembling the order it needs to be in. bobbi’s agent thirteen. an avenger. a biochemist. she’s ready to take on anything coming her way. mist ? what’s mist to her ? she was picked up by shield for a reason. bobbi has always had a piece of war living inside of her. phenomenally woman & phenomenally indomitable. she’s survived the loss of a child, being shot up by a chemical cocktail to save her life, fought robots, men, and mutant alike. her hearing is practically nothing. asl is as much her language as english & spanish are. but she doesn’t think she can survive losing lark. she draws the line there. she was sure he was the best soul she’d ever met. the only person in their family to make it out alive & intact, not the patchwork people that assembled ( patchwork people & broken bobbi, she corrects ). not lark.

she blinks. once, twice, three times. she’s fluent in asl, but still sure she is mis-interpreting. he’s... he must be joking. ❝ clint, now really isn’t the time for this ! where ━ where is he ? ❞ desperation leaks heavily into her own voice, though she cannot hear it, but she can rather feel it. how it leaks into every essence of her being. lark. her boy. her youngest son. lost in the chaos. she’s swarmed with what she should have done. how she should have taught him to protect himself instead of trying to preserve him from what bobbi & clint both knew much too young. she wanted to give lark a chance at what she never got. he was too good in a way bobbi never was. and now it was going to get him killed. ❝ amor, amor, where is lark ? ❞

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“Ask any woman & she’ll tell you why Eve bit / into that apple. Why she chose the universe instead / of you.”

— Topaz Winters, from “Witch in Red,” published in heather press  (via girlwoes)

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“are we just friends or is this flirting serious?” / @hawkbros !

❝ good question, clinton, ❞ she replied, quick, sharp tongue, then averted her eyes. she didn’t know. ❝ anyway ― do you think we should let lark go to paragon ? or let him... be a normal boy for a little longer ? ❞

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“why can’t I be mentally chill instead of mentally ill?” / @ava-bartcn !

not something she wanted to hear from her daughter, per se. ❝ ah, you are your parents child, i suppose. ❞

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“Everyone is different. Although with the technology available nowadays I could probably figure out who my relation is to — but it’s just a matter of thinking if that’s worth reopening those wounds, you know what I mean?” He shrugs his shoulders a bit. “Always something new that’s out of this world popping up, huh?”

❝ one of those... ancestery tests, you mean ? but, i do understand. from a realistic point of view, it’s a very valid point of few. you’d be tearing up a lot of the past. ❞ sometimes it’s just easier to move on. bobbi knows this, she just doesn't like it. ❝ dios, don’t even remind me. magic, aliens... what else is there to worry about ? ❞