Follows on from Magical thinking. Clint POV this time, and I think I like this one better. Same trigger warnings.


Clint crouched in the vents breathing slowly and steadily. Sniper breathing. He felt like the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. Coulson is his handler, his lover, his life. And he knows nothing about the man.

How had Phil kept something this big hidden from him? Because that's the issue. He doesn't care that Coulson needs routines, that he's having trouble coping. God knows Phil's helped him through some rough patches in the past. He does care that Phil hadn't told him. That he'd hidden it until it had scratched out through his skin and he was forced to acknowledge it.

Clint could have... he could have helped. Done something. He tried, when he realised that certain things were important to Phil. He stopped getting take out, and started cooking more (he thought it was a health thing); he didn't object to the early morning alarms (even on weekends); he didn't pressure Phil into doing anything he didn't want to (he was shocked and thrilled when Phil went down on their anniversary).

Did Phil trust him at all? Because that's what this was about. Trust. Clint had never been able to trust easily, but once you were in, you were all the way in. He would literally trust Phil to hold his beating heart in his hands.

Clint tipped his head back, making the ducts ring. What was he going to do? Phil didn't trust him. He's never shown his vulnerability to Clint, the way Clint showed his to Phil. Phil's seen him screaming through flashbacks. He's seen him crying over his past. He's even seen him curled up in the ducts, hiding after a bad mission. Coulson, and maybe Nat, are the only people he lets see him like that. He's never seen Coulson like that. Never.

He just figured that Coulson never broke. That he was always completely and entirely together. Sure, he'd noticed some odd habits since Phil had come back from the dead, but the man had come back from the dead. He was too happy to really worry about those things.

And now it had all come crumbling down.

He was afraid, he realised with a start. He was scared. Not just about what might happen to Phil. What this... this thing might do to him, but he was scared that he'd never known the man at all. The voice in his head (that sounded a lot like Natasha) told him he was being ridiculous. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this proved Phil didn't trust him.

Which probably said more about his issues than Phil's.


He made his way through the vent system until he was above their guest room. He peered through the grating, and Phil wasn't there. He wasn't in the room. Clint could see evidence of him. Belongings moved from their bedroom. Huh, Phil had been serious about sleeping in there then. Clint hadn't been sure. But then, where was he?

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, Mr Barton?"

"Is Phil... where is he?"

"I believe he is in the bathroom to the guest room of your floor."

"Is he alright?"

"I do not have cameras on the private floors, sir. Only heat and motion sensors, as well as my standard audio pick up. But..." JARVIS paused, and Clint's head came up. JARVIS only hesitated when he meant it. "He has been in the bathroom an awfully long time."

"Right. Okay."

"Do you have reason to believe he is not okay? I can override the lock if that is the case."

"I... I don't know. He might be fine. He's probably fine, right?"

"I'm sure, sir."

"Just... let him be. But make sure he comes out for dinner? Remind him."

"Of course."

"Thanks."

Clint ran a trembling hand through his hair. He'd fucked this up. He'd fucked this up so bad. Half of him wanted to go and see if Phil was alright. The rest of him was worried that if he tried talking to Phil right now, then he'd screw it up even more. He was too raw. Too on edge. He needed to think. To have some distance so he could assimilate this new information. He wasn't good with change.

Phil knew that. Phil had to know that.

Clint decided he needed more help to get his head round this. He didn't want to actually tell anyone what Phil had told him; that would be breaking his confidence. He wouldn't do that. But he needed to talk this through with someone. It was how he understood things.

So, he did what he always did when something bothered him. He went to Natasha.