Disclaimer: I don't own anything seen in this fic.

Clint dropped down from the tree, standing in the front yard of his house. The latest threat had been averted, and all he wanted to do was fall onto a bed (or a couch he really wasn't fussy) and sleep for the next week.

(Which, incidentally, is impossible. Fury would probably call him in a few days for a new mission, but he would still like to try.)

This place used to be his home. It was a modest place. Three bedrooms, dining room, decent sized kitchen and living room and a study. It stopped being a home, however, when he died.

They were only living together, they didn't have any form of romantic involvement. Sure, Clint would flirt and then he would be threatened, but there would always be a small smile on his face when he did it.

He resolved himself to tell of his feelings. Make something of their situation. Make it better- but then the incident with Loki (how he hated Loki. He wished he had gotten in a proper shot before Thor took him back to Asgard) happened and they never got a chance.

Clint sighed and shook his head. Dwelling on the past was never going to bring him back. He needed to think on the now and the future. He walked up to the front door and turned the lock. He walked through the thresh hold and slammed the door. He kicked off his shoes and then froze.

He could smell food being cooked. Only two people knew of this place. One of them was Fury and the other...

Clint shook his head again and loaded his bow, he crept towards the kitchen (which was unnecessary after slamming the door, but Clint wasn't the sort to give any attacker any more than they had already). He heard humming and stopped. His already destroyed heart clenching painfully in his chest.

He crept through the door, faithful bow and arrow at the ready and pointed it at the intruder, only to drop it immediately. He stood staring and blinking and when the person turned to look at them with the same damned smile, he had to pinch himself several times and used incredible will power to keep himself standing and to not fall to the floor.

"Ease up, Agent. Don't want you falling and cracking your head open. Just think of the paperwork" The person said. Clint's mouth was open wide and he made a choked sound. The other man cocked his head and gave him a fond smile.

Eventually, Clint got his mouth to cooperate with his mind. "Wha- But... I thought you were... It's not possible."

The person's smile fell a bit. "Yeah. I was for about 2 minutes before the emergency crew got my heart started."

Clint shook his head and pinched himself harder and blinked faster. "No. You're dead. We were told. Everyone." He stopped blinking and just closed his eyes, willing away the tears. He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder and a hand on his chin forcing his head up.

"Clint, open your eyes." The voice was soft and apologetic. He opened his eyes and stared into the other persons. "I'm sorry." The tears fell down Clint's face. "I'm sorry" The other person moved both hands to Clint's neck and held on. Clint closed his eyes again and put his lips to the other man's in the barest of touches, but it was enough. The other person responded in kind, making the kiss deeper and more meaningful. They pulled away.

"I love you." Clint whimpered out. "I love you" He repeated, more tears streaming down.

The other man smiled gently and whispered: "I love you too, but it's time to go."

Clint frowned. "Go? Go where? Who's going?"

"Goodbye, Clint" The other man whispered and kissed Clint again.

Clint woke up with choked cry and a name on his lips.

"Phil"

A.N: Yeah, this doesn't make any sense, but I was sad and I wanted to get it out. Send me a review telling me what you think, or don't... Y'know I'm not forcing you.

I'll probably write something happy later, or really smutty... Haven't decided yet. But this took like half an hour to write. So it's short and it's rubbish.

xxDarknessxx