The sun had set not long ago, leaving the sky dark, but with lingering colors along the horizon. The air hung heavy with unshed rain, perfectly suiting Clint's mood as he sat on the roof of Stark Tower, eyes fixed on the ground. He felt at home here, higher than everyone else. It usually helped give him perspective on things, but today it just seemed to clarify how hopeless things had become.

Though the events of New York at the battle with the Chitauri had been many months before, he was still haunted by them. Clint knew he probably wasn't the only one. Thor still had Loki to deal with, Stark had stared death in the face, Cap was adjusting to an entire new world…hell, Coulson had died. Didn't stick, but still, that has to mess a person up. Some people might say that compared to some of them, what he went through wasn't that bad. But they didn't know. Couldn't know how it felt to have control taken away, be forced to do things, hurt people, that he cared about.

Afterwards, everyone said that they didn't blame him. How could they? No one could have foreseen Thor's brother showing up and mind controlling SHIELD agents in order to bring to earth an alien army. And yet, when it was all said and done, he saw his colleagues avoid eye contact when he passed by. Few people spoke to him anymore unless necessary. Countless lives had been lost and while it wasn't on him alone, a good amount of blood was on his hands.

Standing up from where he had been perched, he walked slowly to the low wall lining the edge of the building. Climbing up on it, Clint just wondered what it would be like to let go and fall. He'd jumped from many high places in his life, almost always knowing that he wouldn't die as a result, but would it be different if he knew there was no chance of being saved?

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sidewalk where he would land. A hawk fallen from the sky. Would people be relieved? They wouldn't have to pretend to understand what he had done, what he was going through. They could blame him and hate him without having to cover up their true feelings. He would no longer be burdened by the lives he could have saved instead of helped take away.

Over the sound of the wind rushing around him, he heard the door to the roof bang shut. He couldn't hear the footsteps though, and turning to see who it was seemed like too much of an effort at the moment.

"What's going on, Barton?"

It was Coulson. One of the few people that he really believed didn't hate him. And if anyone should, it would be him. Because of his helping Loki, Coulson got impaled and how do you apologize for that? But he'd never even brought it up besides a 'Good to have you back, Barton.'

"Not much, sir" he managed to get out, voice sounding strained even to himself.

"Why don't you come down from there for a minute?"

Clint looked back over his should to look at the agent. He could see the tension around Coulson's eyes, betraying the fact that he was worried despite his usual calm exterior.

"I'm fine, sir" he answered, not sounding convincing in the least, but just wishing the older man would go away and leave him be.

"I don't think so. And if you won't come to me, I'll just have to come there" Coulson answered, praying that Clint would change his mind and come down. While he faced various threats to his life every day, heights was one fear that Coulson never could get over.

Slowly swinging a leg over the ledge, Coulson sat on the low wall next to Clint, looking up at him.

"You need to stop blaming yourself, you know."

"Might be easier if everyone else stopped blaming me" Clint answered honestly.

Coulson winced internally at the pain that was clear in Clint's voice. He knew that there were people that blamed him for what happened, but they were small-minded idiots who couldn't grasp the entire situation and just how beyond anything they'd faced that it was.

But he also knew that lots of people just didn't know how to act around Barton. At SHIELD he'd just been part of the gang, but then everything happened and they didn't want it to be weird. So instead people just avoided him. It wasn't just the fact that he'd helped Loki and attacked the helicarrier while under Loki's control. It was also the fact that he was now part of the Avengers, which despite Coulson and Fury's best efforts, were seen as rock stars around the agents. Clint went from being one of them to being a much more widely recognized hero, though not at the same level as Stark or Cap, of course.

"They don't blame you. And if they do, screw them. They don't know what happened. Shit happened, to all of us, but we all did what we could to make up for it and make the situation better. We know there was nothing else you could have done."

Coulson took a deep breath, and before he could talk himself out of it, he reached up and grabbed Clint's hand. Staring up into his eyes, he said "I don't know what you're thinking about up here, but I really hope it's nothing that you'll regret. You're important to us. The team. To me…" Trailing off, he ducked his head, unable to keep looking Clint in the eye. Talking someone literally off the edge probably wasn't the best time to declare, clumsily, your feelings for someone he thought angrily at himself.

Clint down at Coulson thoughtfully. While all the pain and dark thoughts still swirled through his mind, Phil's words seemed to break through here and there like small beacons of light. Realizing Phil was still holding his hand, he squeezed it gently, taking another moment to consider before hopping back off the ledge. He heard Coulson's sharp intake of breath at the sudden movement, not sure which way Clint had been headed. A look of relief shot briefly across his face and he quickly followed, swinging back over onto solid ground.

"I know I can't make all of this go away, but would some takeout and a movie help things at all?" Phil asked gently, not wanting to push. "Maybe some ice cream too."

Pausing, Clint just looked into Phil's eyes for a moment.

"Yeah, it might."