Second story in the Direction verse. Flashbacks in italics have already been established, Bold and Italics = flash forward. Really, really short. Like seriously short. Sorry.


Coulson almost didn't go to Movie Night. He was ashamed and he wasn't ashamed. He was too busy telling himself that there was nothing to be ashamed of.

He didn't do anything wrong.

But, in the end, he did go. He headed to the Tower in plenty of time, and entered the lobby.

"Agent Coulson. It is good to see you."

"Good to see you too, JARVIS," Coulson replied, smiling up at the ceiling.

"I am glad that rumours of your demise appear to have been exaggerated."

"Me too."

The elevator doors opened and Phil moved to step on, but paused. Bruce was standing there.

"Agent Coulson. I thought I'd walk you up to the common area."

"Dr Banner. I thought we'd agreed to use each other's given names."

"That didn't seem suitable for the conversation we're about to have," Bruce replied and gestured inviting Phil to join him in the elevator. There was a small pause, and then Phil stepped forward and the doors closed automatically behind him.

"Good," Bruce said. "JARVIS, pause the elevator and engage privacy mode."

Phil held himself very still and did not fidget or swallow or do anything that might show exactly how nervous he had just become.

"Dr Banner? Would you like to tell me what this is about?"

"The Other Guy wants to have a word with you. And if Clint didn't love you then I just might let him."

"What are you-?"

"You treated him like an animal. Like a dog."

"I reminded him how to be human again."

"You made him kneel for you."

"I never made him. He wanted it. He needed it."

"You know, I've heard that excuse used for rape."

"It wasn't... I didn't..." Phil took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I tried to give him what he needed. I tried to take care of him. I may not have done the right thing, but I had the best intentions. I made the most of a bad situation."

"Good. I know that. I just needed to be sure you did." Just like that, the sense of Bruce's fury dimmed and he was just a mild mannered scientist, smiling wryly at Phil. "I'm sorry. I know some of what I said was a little close to the mark." He hunched his shoulders a little. "But I needed to be sure. Because you took him in, cared for him, and then tossed him out like he was yesterday's trash. Now, I could see two possible explanations for that. Clint thinks you got tired of him. That he was too much effort and too dependent on you. He thinks that you couldn't cope with him and your injury at the same time, because he was too much hassle."

"That's not-"

"I don't believe that though. I think you felt guilty. I think you woke up and found out that Clint was living on his own, that he was working well with a team, and you, uh, 'freaked out'." Bruce smiled. "You only saw that by all appearances he was doing better-according to society's standards anyway." His smile abruptly disappeared. "You didn't see how he was trying so hard and struggling over every little thing. How he couldn't make even the smallest decisions. How he was afraid of his own shadow."

"I-"

"Not finished. So you saw he was doing better-without you. And you felt guilty. You started wondering if he really was better off without you. Whether you'd been doing more harm than good." Bruce's voice was gentle and inescapable. "Am I getting close?"

"I-" Phil swallowed. "He was coping. I was dead and he was fine."

"Right. So you left him. You promised him he was yours, that you'd take care of him, and you left him."

"That's not what-"

"That's exactly what it was like," Banner snapped, his eyes flashing green. "Don't tell me it wasn't. He's letting you back in. And that's good. I'm glad he still has your friendship. But just so you know, I don't have very many things, so I take care of the important ones. If you do anything to hurt him, if you even think about leaving him like that again, if you even think bad thoughts in his direction... I'm going to let the Other Guy have that chat with you." Bruce smiled again, and this time he showed his teeth. "And he's not as good with his words as I am. He tends to resort to baser methods to get his point across."

"I understand."

"Good," Bruce's manner shifted back again. It was disturbing, seeing him go so quickly from angry and menacing to mild mannered and relaxed, and back again. "Glad we had this chat. JARVIS, start up the elevator again please. We have a movie to watch."

The elevator whirred back into motion and the floors passed quickly.

"You've been spending too much time with Stark," Phil said quietly after a moment, and Bruce glanced at him and gave a quick grin.

"Thank you."


"You aren't acting like yourself," May said. They were sparring and Phil was sweating.

"We haven't really spent time together like this in years."

"That wasn't an answer."

"I'm sorry, did you ask a question?"

"Are you okay?" Phil paused for a mere second and got a blow to the head in response. He grinned.

"No." He shook his head and a drop of blood flew off to the side. "I'm not okay."

"Want to tell me why?"

"Want to guess?"

"You've always been a company man," she started and he was already shaking his head.

"No. That is your perception, not the truth."

"Fine. You've always been Fury's man."

"That's closer."

"But you don't trust him anymore."

"No, I still trust him," he said, and then stopped, surprised. He grabbed his water bottle and took a long draught. He wiped water and blood from his lips. "I still trust him."

"Then who don't you trust?" May said, with startling perception.

"Myself." He was trying to relearn trust. And he was pretty sure Clint was too.


It was hard though. He had tried so hard to do the right thing with Barton, and then he'd let himself take the easy path just because he had a moment of doubt. He didn't like the man he saw in the mirror very much at the moment.

He watched the movie, and was invited to the next movie night, and the next and the next. And Clint sat between him and Bruce and relaxed and Phil had to admit that the other man still trusted him. Though God alone knows why. But it didn't feel real. Clint might trust him, but Phil didn't trust himself anymore. He didn't trust his own judgement.

He wondered what he would do if Clint knelt to him. Not that he would. Clint had Bruce now. Bruce was good for him. They were good for each other. He suspected that, if Clint ever did trust him enough to kneel for him again, he'd run.

That much trust... he wasn't ready for that.


Coulson frowned and looked around. He was hoping to find something else that needed doing, but everything was under control.

Then, something happened. The last thing anyone was expecting. Clint stepped out, from who knows where, but he stepped out and walked over until he was standing directly in front of Phil.

Then he dropped to his knees.

He dropped to his knees in front of his team, in front of myriad SHIELD agents and first responders, he dropped to his knees in front of the world. He had never done that before. In an instant, Phil was kneeling too, reaching out to Clint, wanting to touch, to reassure himself Clint was real. Clint ducked his head.

"Don't," he said.


And that was the problem. Phil Coulson was always in control. He always had a tight rein on his impulses. He always tried to act in the right way. But since his death, he keeps acting more with his emotions and less with his thoughts. And that's not right. He can't do things he used to be able to do. He can't trust himself. He certainly can't trust himself with Clint; beautiful, broken Clint who only wants someone to own him.

But that doesn't matter now. Because even if Clint trusts him, even if Clint would go to his knees for him (not likely), Clint has Bruce now. And Bruce knows better. He'll take good care of Clint.

And that was enough. At least for now.


Third story should be ready to start posting in 2 weeks or so.