When on a mission, don't let surprising personal news affect what you're doing.
Lining up the shot was never a challenge for Clint, even when his handler was talking to him about something completely unrelated to the mission. He didn't let anything distract him at times like this, not even the way his heart sped up when Coulson talked about finding a new apartment that was somehow closer to his own. He could analyze his feelings later, when lives weren't on the line.
"Take your shot, Barton. The exchange is over," Coulson was saying in his ear now. He nodded to himself, letting the arrow go and watching as it hit his mark perfectly. He never missed, even when he was slightly distracted.
"Did you really mean it when you said it's closer to mine?" he asked, not moving from his perch. It wouldn't be safe for him to move until nightfall. They'd be looking for him until at least then.
"Yes. Just down the street, actually. Stark owns the building, and he offered me a place there weeks ago, after we cured his poisoning. I accepted last week, and I'm in the process of moving in," Phil responded. "I didn't think you were actually listening to me though. You should have been focusing."
"Hey, I made my shot. Don't worry about what I was focusing on," Clint shot back, grinning to himself. He should have known better than to speak while he was hiding. This was why emotions on missons were bad. The resulting gunshots were not a surprise, looking back. "Oh hell, they found me. Permission to kill first, ask questions later?"
"Granted, Hawkeye. Just make it out of there alive," Phil replied, sounding strangely hoarse. He couldn't actually be worried, could he? Clint had faced much worse.
And make it out alive he did. He managed to take out all the men who had been shooting at him, and he made it to the safe house in record time. Phil was waiting for him, and neither of them mentioned the emotion the handler had shown.
When your handler instructs radio silence, shut your damn mouth! No seriously, it could be the difference between living and dying.
"Do you think they know that their uniforms are tacky?" Clint asked, watching his mark from a roof across the street. "Because seriously, lime green not only stands out, but those look like they glow in the dark."
"Barton, what part of radio silence do you not comprehend?" Coulson asked, the frown clear in his voice over the comms.
"Radio silence is boring, and there is no way they can hear me. Relax, boss. I'm fine. Hey want to grab dinner when I finish here? I'm thinking Indian," he replied, grinning. His eyes never left the mark, but he wasn't really paying much attention. They'd been in the same place for over an hour, at some kind of meeting.
"If I say yes, will you stop talking?" Phil grumbled.
"Probably not, but it'll make me happy. And I know you're hungry too, because I know you don't eat when I can't. I don't know why; it just makes you more cranky later," he shot back quickly.
"Barton. Shut up," Phil told him. If Clint hadn't known him well, he never would have caught on to the older man's exasperation and worry. It said wonders about their relationship that he did at all. He frowned to himself, glancing to where he knew his handler was watching. It nearly cost him his life.
When he looked back to his mark, he realized he hadn't gone unnoticed. Not only had the mark moved, but he was now being shot at by a sniper rifle that was in the hands of said mark. It didn't help that Phil was in his ear shouting for him to watch out and get the hell off of the roof. He knew that, thank you very much. He'd already somehow been shot in the leg. Running was impossible without risking permanent damage. He had other options, the worst of which was diving off of the roof and using a grappling arrow to swing in through one of the windows and get out of the line of fire. That was the option he chose, of course. He always forgot how much breaking through glass windows actually hurt until he was doing it.
It wasn't until he was inside this new building that he realized he'd somehow lost his comm. There was no way for him to contact Coulson or the extraction team now, so he'd have to improvise. The target knew that he was in this building, knew which floor and possibly which room he was currently occupying, and was definitely going to come after him. Sure, he could take a fight. His leg was wounded and bleeding, he had multiple cuts and bruises, and one of his ankles might actually be broken, but he'd fought in worse conditions than this.
So yeah, he reflected. Radio silence was a big deal. Turns out they actually do mean it when they say it could save lives. Using supplies he found in a closet just down the hallway, he managed to wrap up his leg and stop the bleeding. He made an improvised splint for his ankle that would hold until he could get actual medical help, and then he headed for the stairs. The elevator was a giant death trap. He'd learned that the hard way on one of his first missions.
Nobody was on the stairs yet, which meant he still had time to get out of the building and to safety. He almost laughed at that thought. Time and safety were two things that were never on his side. He never actually had enough time to get away, and safety was a thing that didn't exist in this world of his. He'd known that when he signed up. If he could make it to the main floor, though, he was pretty sure he'd be able to find a phone that worked to call Coulson and get backup. Right now, there was no way Coulson knew that he'd survived.
Of course, it could never be that simple. The main floor was full of goons hired by his mark to make sure he didn't make it out alive. He had a dozen arrows left, and there were at least fifteen men here. He was going to have to improvise. Again.
Details of the fight are classified. But this is Hawkeye, so you know it was dramatic and painful.
When he made it to the phone, he had a few broken ribs and a sprained wrist to go with his bullet wound and broken ankle. This mission was turning into a huge ordeal that he no longer wanted to be a part of. Unfortunately, he still had a mark to take down.
"Coulson, can you maybe send a medical team to patch me up so I can finish this damn mission and go home to check on my dog?" he demanded when his handler answered his damn phone finally.
"Barton! What's your location?" Phil demanded, his voice shaken. "What are your injuries?" Clint would have smiled, if he wasn't in so much pain.
"Aw, I didn't know you'd be worried. Relax, I've had worse. And I've learned my lesson. Radio silence equals important. I'll listen next time," he replied, before rattling off his location and injuries.
"Don't do that to me again. I thought you were dead, Clint," Phil said quietly when he finished. "I took your mark out myself. Your mission is over. You can go back to your apartment for the night when they finish patching you up, as long as you report tomorrow morning for debrief."
"I'd much rather do the other kind of debriefing, tonight," Clint muttered to himself quietly enough that he was sure Phil hadn't heard. "Right, I can do that," he added louder. "I'll be there."
Make a cover story that you won't forget. Also, make it one that's convincing. And maybe ask your mission partner before just spouting what you've come up with to your mark.
"How long have you two known each other?" the woman asked, running a hand up Phil's arm flirtatiously. Later, Clint would blame his reaction on the glass of champagne he'd had the hour before.
"We've known each other for years. Almost as long as I can remember," he replied, snaking an arm around Phil's waist possessively. He was pleasantly surprised when the older man blushed, but he figured it was a forced reaction, a way to keep their cover.
"Oh. I didn't realize you were... together," she said, withdrawing her hand. Phil opened his mouth to reply, but Clint beat him to it.
"It's alright. We tend not to act like a couple in public. There are still people who aren't accepting, you know," he told her, forcing a smile that looked natural. She nodded in agreement, already moving on to talk to one of her colleagues.
He was expecting it when Phil grabbed his arm and pulled him forcefully out into the hallway away fro m the party. This wasn't the cover they'd agreed on; this was Clint being jealous and accidentally letting it slip. Although it wasn't entirely a bad thing, since their mark was a very big supporter of gay rights. She just happened to be Hydra, too.
"Next time, please inform me before changing our cover," Phil said with a frown. "I'd like to know ahead of time so we can work out the appropriate details. Since you've made the change, you get to tell the stories to anyone who asks."
"What, you're not going to argue with it?" he asked, surprised. Phil hadn't even protested. This was new territory, and he was liking it.
"It's too late for that. And you know this isn't something I'm opposed to. Just some warning would be nice," Phil told him, his face clear of emotion like usual. He'd reverted back to SHIELD agent when they reached the hallway, which made reading him infinitely harder. Clint wished Nat was there, because she was the master at reading body language. Not even Phil could hide what he was feeling from her.
"Alright, I get that. Sorry. I shouldn't have changed it, and next time I'll inform you before making even a small change to our covers. Okay?" he asked, wanting to get back to the party, to see Phil show literally any emotions again. This was the part he hated about working in SHIELD. He was always bad at hiding his own emotions, and he hated being surrounded by emotionless people. Especially people who were his friends. People he may have feelings for. (No, that was against the rules, he reminded himself. No thinking about emotions while on missons.)
Phil just nodded and allowed Clint to lead him back into the party. The mission went easily from there, with Clint taking care of their cover story, and Phil discreetly taking out the mark. This kind of mission didn't happen often, so they both wanted to stay and enjoy the party for a bit after they were done. Clint figured they deserved it, after all the missions they'd been forced into lately. It was like Fury was out to punish them or something.
No thinking about emotions while on missions.
"You have feelings for him, admit it," Natasha said quietly from her seat in the casino. They were talking on the comms, but on a private channel that was just them. He sighed, knowing that avoiding the question would just confirm it for her.
"Yeah, maybe. I haven't been thinking about it on purpose. Admitting that the feelings are there will just bring heartache. You know that," he replied quietly from his own place in the corner. He was taking a break from 'gambling' to sit with a glass of scotch (which he wasn't really drinking) and observe the room.
"What if he has feelings for you as well?" she asked. He could see her raised eyebrows from across the room. "Have you actually spoken to him about it?"
"You already know I haven't. I'd probably get tased or something, Nat. I'm not interested in having my heart broken," he snapped, frowning.
"So it's love? Because that's the only way your heart could be broken. Even if the feelings aren't returned, which I don't believe, he wouldn't be cruel. You know Phil as well as I do," she informed him.
"It's not... I don't know, okay! I don't know what it is. And I don't want to think about it. There's a rule against that, on missions," he replied.
"And after missions? When we go for our drinks, as usual, will you think about it? Because ignoring it will just hurt worse than getting it over with," she asked.
"Maybe. Probably not. I might just skip the drinking this time. I've got to make sure Lucky is okay. And I need to call Katie, because she's been MIA for a few days now. I promise I'll eventually think about it and discuss it with you, okay? So can we get back to the mission?" he shot back. Then he changed back to the normal channel on the comms before she could answer.
His distraction with emotions had made him lose their mark, and it took three extra hours for them to complete their mission. He blamed Natasha completely, and he didn't know why he'd ever wished she'd been on missions with him. She was terrible when she knew things they didn't.
Unresolved sexual tension makes for awkward conversation in debriefs. Either make sure there isn't any sexual tension, or avoid debriefs completely.
The sixth time he skipped a debrief, he got the summons to Fury's office. He knew that ignoring a direct summons could get him into more trouble, so he went. He ignored Natasha's pointed looks and Phil's disappointed stare as he knocked on Fury's office door.
"I don't know or care what your problem with Coulson is. I want you to pull your head out of your ass and get the hell over it. Debriefs are important both for you and for us. We need to know what happened, and you need to talk about it so you don't need therapy later in life. Trust me, it actually works. So either talk to him or don't, but don't even think about missing another fucking debrief. Clear?" Fury stated nearly as soon as the door was closed.
It took Clint a few seconds to process and decide what to say. "I don't... there's no problem with Coulson. He's probably my only friend, besides Natasha," he started.
"I really don't care. Just show up and sit through the hour it takes to recount missions. Then you can disappear all you like," Fury snapped, waving him out of the office.
Of course Phil stopped him before he could actually disappear until their next mission. "Mind telling me why you've been avoiding me?" he asked.
"I'm really not avoiding you. I just don't like sitting still. You know that," he replied, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. Phil almost visibly flinched.
"Right... I just wanted to make sure. Be at the debrief tomorrow morning," he said quietly before walking back to his office and closing the door harder than necessary.
"Ready to talk about it yet?" Natasha asked from directly behind him, making him jump. He sighed, turning to face her.
"Yeah, fine. Let's go talk about our feelings," he said tiredly.
"Not ours. Just yours," she replied with a smile.
Never try to hide things from Natasha. It just amuses her and frustrates you.
The bar was a run down junk heap, but it was quiet and private. Nobody here would give them a second look, because they all had their own things to hide. SHIELD agents frequented this place, because it was the best place to keep their jobs secret. Nobody asked questions. Well, nobody but Natasha.
"How long have you had feelings for Coulson?" she asked, probably already knowing the answer.
"Consciously or subconsciously?" Clint grumbled, throwing back a shot. He was going to need a few before he was ready to actually open up. Feelings weren't something he was good at, and she knew it.
"You know what I want to hear, тупица," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I know what you want. You want me to tell you that I've been attracted to him since he recruited me. That I've had actual feelings for him for almost three years now, but I'm too much of a coward to do anything, even think about it. You want to hear how I've been messing up missions for the last month because he keeps surprising me with little pieces of information and emotion that he wouldn't ordinarily tell. How he's been driving me crazy in the debriefs and doesn't even realize it. How I can't even be in the same room as him anymore without wanting him in some way. That's what you want to hear. But I don't want to admit that any of that is true," he snapped, glaring at her smug look.
"And if I told you he feels the same way?" she asked, her amusement clear.
"I'd say save the lies for someone who might fall for them. I refuse to have hope in this. Not only is Phil straight, but he's got no reason to like me whatsoever. We're barely friends!" he said with a frown.
"Now we both know that isn't true. I could prove it, but I want to see if you can do this on your own from here. I'll make you a deal. If you at least try to make a move, I'll let this go. I won't bring up any feelings you may or may not feel, no matter how tempting it is. Ask him out, tell him how you feel, I don't care. Make some move, and I'll drop this completely," she informed him, meeting his eyes. She was serious, he could tell.
He debated what to do. On the one hand, having Natasha drop it meant that he could go back to pretending his feelings weren't there. He could pass it off as a joke to Phil when he asked him out, and nobody would know any different. Phil would probably really believe he was kidding. He could go back to normal, and hopefully not get hurt... yeah, he could do that.
"Deal," he said quietly.
Don't attempt to ask out a fellow agent while on a mission. Not only is it distracting, but enemies can use your emotions against you.
"So there's this new Italian place that opened a few days ago. Do you want to go with me sometime?" Clint asked over the comms as he fought his way through the Hydra goons to get to the bomb before it exploded.
"You're asking me to dinner?" Phil asked incredulously. "There is a time and a place, Barton. This isn't it."
"This is as good a time as any. We'll be busy later with the debrief, and then you disappear into your office for hours and I leave to train the new Hawkeye. This is the only time we've got," he protested, finally reaching the bomb.
Phil sighed, and Clint knew he'd be rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Fine. Italian sounds good. I'll meet you outside of you building at seven tomorrow night. Don't be late."
Clint's hands froze, his mind shutting down momentarily. "Wait... you're actually agreeing. Are you sure?" he asked, shocked.
"Yes, I'm sure. Don't stop disarming the bomb!" Phil reprimanded, his mind still on the mission. Clint's heart dropped, knowing that he wasn't thinking of it as a date. His mind was focused on the mission; he didn't even know what he'd just agreed to. He'd be pulling Clint aside later to tell him he'd changed his mind.
"Right, sorry." He went back to disarming the bomb and had it done in less than a minute. He waited patiently (for him) while other agents apprehended the Hydra goons and cleared out the lair. He watched as Phil called in to report their findings to Fury, and waited until he gestured for him to get into the car that had come to pick them up. This was it. This was the moment Phil would remember and change his mind.
But Phil didn't say anything about their dinner date. Maybe he'd forgotten already. Clint wasn't sure which option was worse. He decided not to bring it up, and just wait for the time to meet. He'd see then how wrong Nat was, and he'd be able to tell her to leave him alone about it. She'd see. And he would be okay... probably.
It's okay to be surprised. It is not okay to let that surprise show.
He was running late. It had taken longer than he'd expected to track down Katie and get her to watch the dog for him. Ever since some asshole had broken into his apartment last month, Lucky couldn't be on his own for more than a few minutes. Usually his neighbor would watch him for missions, but this was a date on short notice. They weren't home.
He assured Katie as he was leaving that he'd probably only be gone a few minutes, a couple hours at most. He ignored her comment about him being an idiot, and her advice that he "wear a fucking condom".
At first glance, he didn't see Phil when he walked out of his building. He almost just walked right back in, but something made him look again. There was Phil, looking good in a button up shirt and slacks. It was strange to see him without a suit, but Clint liked it. He looked good. And... he was staring. He was pretty sure he looked as shocked as he felt, and that was a bad thing. He just couldn't make himself be emotionless this time. He wasn't as good at that as Phil was, or even Natasha.
"Is something wrong, Clint?" Phil asked, stepping closer in concern.
"No! I just wasn't expecting..." he trailed off, unsure of how to continue. There were several things he wasn't expecting. He wasn't expecting Phil to be there at all. He wasn't expecting him to look so damn good. He wasn't expecting to have such a reaction to finding him there. He wasn't expecting all of the emotions that were currently flooding him. He wasn't expecting to be speechless. Damn, he was going to owe Nat now, wasn't he?
"Should I not have come? I can go," Phil said quietly, looking unsure. He also looked almost hurt, like he'd been expecting this but hoping he was wrong.
"I'd really rather you didn't leave. I was looking forward to tonight, I just wasn't sure you'd actually come," Clint admitted.
"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, confused.
"When I asked, we were in the middle of a mission. You barely acknowledged it before you were right back into handler mode, and then you never mentioned it again. I thought you'd either change your mind and tell me it was a mistake, or you'd forgotten," Clint said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably.
"Yet you still came down to meet me, even though you weren't expecting me to be here. Why?" Phil asked, tilting his head. Clint could tell he was trying to understand.
"Just because I thought you wouldn't be here doesn't mean I wasn't hoping I was wrong," he said, not quite meeting Phil's eyes. "I came down to prove a point to myself and to... doesn't matter. Maybe I'll have proven a different point by the end of the night."
"What was the original point?" Phil asked. Clint just shook his head, not willing to share.
"We should get going if we're going to eat tonight. Don't want to miss out on anything," he replied with a forced smile. He was very good at making those look natural, which came in handy. Phil had shown up, but there was no way he thought this was a date.
"Alright. Lead the way," Phil said calmly. Clint could hear the confusion and disappointment in his voice, but he didn't want to think too hard about why he'd be disappointed. He already knew he was a disappointment.
The restaurant was crowded, but they got a table in the back because Clint actually knew the owners. Phil made some remark about Clint knowing everyone, but he was too nervous to really hear it. He had no idea what to do now. He hadn't thought he'd get this far.
"So why did you ask me to come with you?" Phil asked. "Why not Romanov?" He sounded curious, like he didn't really care about the answer. But Clint could see in his eyes that he really did want to know. There was a right answer and a wrong answer, and Clint wished he knew which was which. He didn't want to mess this up. When all else failed, he always went with the truth. (That was rule number sixteen.)
"I'm not interested in Nat. She's a good friend. We've tried being more, but it never worked," he replied carefully, still not meeting Phil's eyes. He heard the sharp intake of breath though.
"Clint... was this meant to be a date?" Phil asked softly, is tone unidentifiable.
"Yes... if you want it to be. Otherwise, this is just a meal between friends," he answered after a few seconds. He'd decided on the truth, and he was sticking to it. That didn't mean he wasn't ready to bolt at the first sign of rejection. He almost jumped out of his skin when Phil's hand covered his on the table.
"I'd like that very much. The date part, I mean. I was hoping that's what you meant, when you asked. Thought it best not to push my luck, though, which is why I didn't mention it after," Phil admitted.
"I asked because Nat wouldn't leave me alone about my suppressed feelings. She promised to drop it if I asked you out or told you how I felt. Which... I guess I've done both of," he said quietly, finally looking up to meet Phil's eyes. He was surprised to see that Phil was smiling softly.
"Natasha talked to me, too. Told me I was being obvious and that I needed to either say it out loud or... well, I won't repeat what she said," Phil replied.
"Katie told me to stop being and idiot and use condoms," Clint informed him, grinning. "I got her to watch Lucky, but I figured it would only be for a few minutes. That's why she called me an idiot. I think she and Nat talk while I'm not around. I've caught them together a few times when I get home. They gossip like old women, I swear," he rambled, nervous again. He knew what Nat would have said to Phil, and he knew it was something he wanted... did Phil want that?
"That's actually good advice," Phil stated, lips twitching. Clint's brain froze again. Phil couldn't mean what he thought he meant... could he? He was staring again, damn it. He made himself focus.
"You... really? I mean, it is. Condoms are important," he replied. He could hit himself, he felt so stupid. On the plus side, Phil was now openly grinning. Clearly he enjoyed breaking Clint's brain.
"We don't have to tonight. I'm in no rush. I like you, Clint. I have feelings for you too, if that wasn't clear already. I have for quite some time. I didn't imagine they'd be returned. I'm older than you by several years, and I'm your handler. I would understand if you change your mind," Phil informed him calmly.
"Why would you even think that? No, you're stuck with me now. Maybe forever. And if you're serious, I'm not opposed to tonight. I have a feeling Katie saw it coming," Clint replied, smiling. Things might finally be going his way.
When dating another agent, always file the appropriate paperwork. Otherwise, Fury and other agents will make your life HELL.
In his defense, he didn't know the paperwork even existed at first. Apparently, Phil had filled his out and filed it the very day they'd gotten together. Honestly, even if Clint had known, he wouldn't have done it. He was notorious for ignoring paperwork. Phil usually did his for him.
Natasha was a smug as he'd expected her to be. He was glad he hadn't made a bet with her, because he'd be broke by now if he had. She was the one who told him about the paperwork. She was also the one who told him about the Avengers Initiative that Phil had apparently signed them up for. He'd talk to him about that later.
"Fury is going to call you in to talk again soon if you don't file it, тупица. You don't want that," she told him softly while they were sparring.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll get to it. I'm more concerned with the fact that Phil has somehow come to the conclusion that we're heroes? Did he miss the part where we work as assassins for a spy agency?" he asked, pinning her to the mat.
She flipped them easily, smirking. "I think he was too busy being distracted by his feelings to actually think about what others might say about us. We're ordinary humans, after all."
"Yeah. But in his defense, we are SHIELD's best. Maybe he just wanted to make sure there was someone on the team that he could trust. And he knows we work best together," he shot back, kicking her off. She landed on her feet, cracking her knuckles while he got back up.
"I don't know. Fury approved it, though. They're working on informing the others who are eligible. You heard that they found Captain Rogers, correct? He's awake and acclimating now. Tony Stark is a possible candidate. Dr. Banner will be approached when the time is right. And there is talk of Thor, the god. If he ever returns, that is," Nat told him.
"Thor? He went back to wherever he's from. But damn, that guy can fight. I got to see him in action when I was in New Mexico as security. And isn't Stark kind of an asshole?" Clint asked, amused. Natasha nodded.
"You know I met him when I was undercover as his assistant. He is most definitely an asshole. But he's also a genius, and his suits have saved millions of people," she told him, diving to the side to avoid his sudden kick. She used his momentum to knock him back down, sweeping her leg under his to bring him down hard. He lay there, working to catch his breath while she held his arms down and sat on his chest.
"I'm just saying, we're going to be completely out of our league here. If he gives us the chance to turn it down, I'm going to," he said, nodding once to show that he conceded the match to her. She got up gracefully, offering a hand to help him up that he gladly took.
"Well I'm sorry then. Because I've already said yes for both of us," she said quietly as she walked into the women's locker room to shower. Clint was left staring after her in shock and resignation.
Fury really did call him into his office later that very day. It wasn't so much about the paperwork as it was to give him the most terrifying shovel talk he'd ever had in his life. He wasn't sure that some of the threats were even physically possible, and he really didn't want to find out. He made sure to file the paperwork within the hour, and then he went to hide in his apartment for a while.
Never admit out loud that Natasha is right about anything. She'll never let you forget it.
Loki was pacing again, muttering to himself while he shifted between Asgardian and Midgardian clothing. Clint didn't have much time to think, too busy doing the guard work for Loki. Occasionally, something would bring back a memory. Watching Loki pace reminded him of how Phil liked to pace in his office when there was a problem he couldn't solve right away. Thinking about Phil made his head hurt, so he usually tried not to do it.
"Let's move. Barton you will bring down the Helecarrior. Understood?" Loki asked, suddenly turning his attention to Clint. He gave a short nod and went to pilot one of the jets that Loki had hijacked.
Of course, Loki's plans never actually went as they were supposed to. Clint ended up in his room with Natasha hovering over him worriedly. He'd analyze that later.
"Why is it always me?" he grumbled. "Is there a reason you enjoy bashing my head so much?"
"Purely necessity. You've done nothing to upset me. We're assembling to go after Loki shortly. Clint... there's something you need to know," she told him softly. He looked up at her, worried suddenly by her tone. He'd never heard her being gentle before.
"What happened? Who died?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood. He paled when she flinched visibly.
"Loki was in the cage meant for the Hulk, but he managed to escape by tricking Thor. Coulson... Phil took a weapon from storage and went after him by himself. He didn't make it, Clint," she said softly, looking down. He knew she hated to appear weak, and he could see the tears in her eyes. He reached out and took her hand.
"You were right about the Avengers Initiative. I'm glad we joined now. The name is perfect. We'll avenge him, Nat. We'll kill Loki for what he's done. Phil's death won't be in vain," he told her, equally soft. He was hurting so much, but he couldn't focus on it. He had practice on avoiding emotions, after all.
The battle was a blur, aliens dying and Hulk smashing Loki. That was particularly satisfying for Clint, although he didn't say so out loud. It wasn't until he got back to his (somehow still standing) apartment that he actually had a chance to feel anything other than adrenaline. Maybe he should have gone to Medical like Fury wanted, but he had just wanted to go home.
"You look like hell," Katie told him, climbing in through the window.
"You have a key for a reason, Katie-hawk. You should use the door, it's safer," he reprimanded halfheartedly. This was an argument they'd had over a hundred times, and she never listened anyways.
"That's boring. So not me. I assume you were fighting the alien things? Why aren't you back at SHIELD?" she asked, sitting beside him with a first aid kit. He let her clean the cuts he'd accumulated, staring at the floor.
"I couldn't be there anymore. Too many memories I don't want to deal with," he said quietly. She shot an alarmed look at him, probably because she knew he didn't usually deal with emotions. This was a first for everyone.
"Want to tell me why?" she asked cautiously. He took a second to calm down before starting in on the story. He told her everything, from Loki's possession to Phil dying and the brief alien battle. She listened silently, cleaning and bandaging his wounds. This had been an old tradition for them, from the first mission she'd been around to see him come back from. She knew more classified information than any other non-agent, Stark included.
"I'm so sorry, Clint. I know what he meant to you," she whispered when he finished, pulling him into a rare hug.
"Not your fault, kiddo. And I'll be okay. I always am," he said quietly, closing his eyes. He fell asleep on the couch like that, and she was there making dinner when he woke up. If she stayed with him for a few days after that, he didn't mention it. Everyone needs someone to take care of them sometimes, and Clint was no exception. He'd done the same for her before.
Fury lies.
A full year after Loki, Clint was living in Stark tower with the rest of the Avengers. SHIELD was gone, Steve was off hunting for his best friend, and Katie sometimes interned as a secretary for Stark so she could be close to Clint (which was weird for both of them). They'd managed to stay together as a team after everything, and they'd somehow all become friends in that time.
Natasha was quieter than she'd been before, but she'd been through a lot and all of their files and information were now public knowledge. It was bad enough people knew about Budapest now. It was even worse that they brought it up when they recognized them in public. They didn't go out much anymore.
Clint knew, of course, that Fury was still alive. Nat hadn't kept that a secret from them. So he wasn't shocked to get into the elevator one night and find him already there. They rode in silence, reaching the communal floor and getting out together. Clint had nothing to say to this man, so he moved straight to the kitchen to get what he wanted and disappear again. Unfortunately, Nat didn't let him vanish.
"As you all know, SHIELD went down with those Helecarriors. What you may not have known is that afterward, a new head of SHIELD was appointed. Someone who I trust to rebuild without Hydra's involvement. He's been bothering me for months about how he wants you all to know what happened. So I'm here to tell you," Fury started.
"There's a new SHIELD and we weren't invited?" Clint asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I felt that you'd be better as an Avenger. My colleague agreed, until recently. Seems he missed you," Fury replied, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. They could all tell he was actually amused.
"Who is this new head of SHIELD?" Tony asked. Fury grimaced.
"Glad you asked, Stark. It just so happens that the new head of SHIELD is Phil Coulson," he stated, bracing himself for the explosions. None came. Or at least none that Clint saw, because he was too busy leaving to pay attention to what the others did.
When faced with emotions you don't want to have, trigger a different emoton.
He held his cellphone tightly, debating internally whether or not this was a good idea. He didn't want to feel the betrayal anymore, and the best way to make the betrayal go away was to just call Phil and talk to him. He was certain the number would be the same. Nobody would call a dead man. No reason to change it. He finally worked up the nerve to call, holding his breath until there was an answer.
"I wondered when you'd finally call. I assume this means Nick has been to see you all?"
"Yeah. Yeah, he just left. Phil... it's really you," Clint said quietly.
"Yes. Are you disappointed?"
"NO. I could never be disappointed by you. I thought you were dead," he replied immediately.
"We thought it was best to let you all believe that. I couldn't take it anymore. I missed you too much. I am so sorry, Clint. I never wanted to leave you."
"I'm not mad at you. Fury can go to hell, but I don't blame you. You were following orders, just like I would have done," he said quietly, tears in his eyes.
"No you wouldn't have. You would have found a way to contact me within an hour of waking up, to hell with the orders. I was a coward. I thought that maybe if I came back from the dead you'd want nothing to do with me anymore. So I didn't tell you that I was back. I didn't want to face the rejection."
"I would NEVER reject you, Phil," Clint said with conviction. He meant every word.
"There's a new Italian place that opened a few blocks from where you are now. Would you maybe like to get dinner with me sometime?"
It was almost exactly how Clint had asked him the first time, and it made him smile through his tears. "Tell you what. I'll meet you outside the tower tomorrow night at seven. Don't be late."
**Тупица means anything from idiot to dumbass. Natasha uses it as a term of endearment.