The Hardest Thing in This World is to Live in it.
This first chapter is basically Phil's perspective on the gym encounter.
Agent Barton was grinding on Phil's last nerve. He was avoiding him. He was falling apart. Phil really didn't have time for his drama on top of physiotherapy, catching up on 3 months of paperwork and case files. All in all, he thought, it had been much easier being dead.
But it was alright. Phil had a plan.
"Here's what we're going to do. You're going to go to the gym, and I'm going to call Clint and get him there. Then JARVIS will lock the door and you won't be allowed out unless you two actually have a conversation."
Okay, so it was Natasha's plan, but he was sure it would work. And a good handler listens to his assets.
He went to the gym and stood in the centre of the room. He felt a little self conscious, but then he moved to stand in the at ease position and that made him feel more comfortable. When the door opened, Phil wondered what on earth Nat had told Clint to get him there, because Barton looked panicked. Absolutely panicked, and he was wearing only a t shirt and boxers, which wasn't conducive to Phil's concentration. He decided to wait until Clint calmed down to try talking to him. Just as soon as he decided that though, Clint noticed him.
"Oh, screw this!" and then he turned around and tried to get the hell out. He looked like a trapped animal and it reminded Phil painfully of their first meeting. Clint shouldn't look like that anymore. He was supposed to be safe, sane and happy at SHIELD. Barton banged at the door and shouted at JARVIS. It looked like he was going to be at it for a while, and Phil's chest twinged. He went and sat down on the edge of the weight bench. He wasn't sure he had the stamina to deal with Clint.
In a shorter time than he expected, Barton gave in. He turned around and slid down the door, curling in on himself. Hmm, defensive posture. Phil should have dealt with this sooner. And he really didn't like Fury at the moment.
He'd thought he would just wait Clint out. He knew how much the man hated silence, but he looked so miserable...
"Agent Barton. We seem to keep missing each other lately." That's right. Keep it calm and level. Keep in control.
"You seem remarkably calm for someone locked in a gym, sir. I take it you were in on this?" Thank God, Clint was talking to him. He hadn't known how to deal with the silent Clint who had been stalking the hallways and avoiding him.
"And if I was?"
"I'd ask why."
"Clint..." and Clint flinched, smacking the back of his head on the door. Coulson immediately hated himself for it. He didn't want to cause Clint any more pain. He was across the room and next to his agent in a matter of seconds, and his hand came up to check the back of his head without thought.
"I'm fine," Clint said, pulling away. Coulson hadn't realised they were that badly off. They'd always taken care of each other's injuries, for years now. Clint had even bought him Captain America band-aids for his paper cuts.
"My apologies. Agent Barton." And Coulson had never felt so lost and unsure.
"No. Fuck. Phil, I'm messing this all up!" Coulson's turn to flinch. This wasn't Clint's fault.
"Come and sit down. We need to talk. Properly." He held out a hand and was overjoyed when Clint took it. He led the way over to a gymnastics bench near the wall and sat down, shoulders pressed together.
This time, Coulson just let the silence stretch out.
"You died," Clint said, sounding broken.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"You died, Phil. You aren't allowed to do that."
"I didn't intend to die, I assure you."
"I saw the tapes. You did intend to die. They needed something to avenge. Jesus, Phil."
"You were never supposed to see that. None of you were supposed to see that. And I'm still mad at Nick for the stunt with the cards."
"It worked, if that's any consolation. We teamed up. We saved the world. And I was their enemy ten minutes earlier."
Phil had always been able to see through Clint's bullshit. It was one of the reasons they were friends.
"It wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"
"I've spent the last three months trying to convince myself of that. Not sure how successful I was."
"Agent Barton." And that was illuminating. Clint sat up and actually listened.
"Yes, sir?"
"Anything that happened while you were under Loki's control was not your fault. You are to stop blaming yourself, and that is an order." And just like that, all the tension in Clint's body let go.
He started to cry.
Phil's hand wrapped around the back of his neck, needing to do something. He pulled Clint's solid bulk against him, and Clint clutched at him, desperate. Coulson guided him down to rest against his chest, wincing a little as it pulled at the still healing wound. It would have been completely healed now, if not for a nasty infection he'd had.
"I've got you, Agent."
And for now, everything was all right.