A/N: So this is definitely Clint/Coulson and slash - just wanted to warn again. I've edited it to abide by ffnet's rules (IMO) (You get a different version if you go to Archive of Our Own).
I've been toying with a meet-the-family for Clint's circus found family and this is it. Thanks to dysprositos for beta help (go read their Gen Clint stories. They're awesome.) - there is angst, PTSD, and mentions of past abuse here as well, so proceed accordingly. Thanks for everyone's support - I really appreciate it.
"Life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going." – Tennessee Williams
Clint never asked for time off. He banked every single personal day agents were allowed…though he didn't even really understand what they were until Phil explained it to him. Clint didn't have much experience with personal days and 401K plans before working for the government.
Not that they could take personal days often, but when there was down time they could call in and go to a ballgame or something if they wanted. When Clint found out about them, he just shrugged and said, "I don't really want to go to ballgames." So he banked his days, getting extra pay (that he also banked) instead.
A few years in, though, after Clint and Phil established themselves as one of the best teams in SHIELD history, just before they added Natasha and became Strike Team Delta, Clint showed up in Phil's office with a sheepish look on his face and asked for Thanksgiving off. "Just a few days, sir," he insisted, and then spent the next couple minutes assuring Phil that he was ready and more than willing to get called out on a mission and miss Thanksgiving if they really needed him.
He was so reassuring that Phil raised an eyebrow and said, "Do you want me to call you out?"
Clint sighed and said, "No. I have somewhere to be." And he left the office with a wave.
Phil didn't ask until the next year when Clint requested Thanksgiving off again.
He grinned and said, "Standing invitation?" because he was pleased that Clint had somewhere to go that wasn't SHIELD, and pleased that Clint might have people in his life other than SHIELD agents.
"Yes, sir," Clint answered. "Natasha needs the time, too, by the way, but she's nervous about asking. I didn't want her to be alone on base, but she's not used to this sort of thing, either."
"I'll get both of you cleared," Phil said, and shoved a pang of jealousy deep into his chest.
Natasha didn't go with Clint every year, and Phil learned that his jealousy was unfounded when she started spending Thanksgiving and every other holiday with Hill. For Phil, signing Clint's paperwork for Thanksgiving became one of his favorite things, really, because keeping Clint happy steadily became his very favorite thing, and if the only way he could do that was through paperwork and vacation days, well. He took what he could get.
That all changed after New Mexico.
As it turned out, Phil had other ways of making Clint happy, and the months that followed Thor's arrival on Earth were some of their best. Clint began staying more nights than not at Phil's apartment off-base, and they spent every moment of their downtime together. They wandered the city's bookshops and record stores, hung out in Greenwich Village discovering a mutual appreciation for jazz and live music, and relished the ability to wake in each other's arms whenever they weren't on mission.
It was only months before Loki came and ruined everything.
When Clint put in his request for this Thanksgiving off, they hadn't woken up together once since the Battle of New York. They were trying to be there for each other, Clint attending Phil's physical therapy sessions whenever he was on base, Phil cooking dinner for Clint whenever Clint was willing to spend evenings with him. But Clint insisted that he sleep in his own place at the Tower because he didn't want Phil to lose his needed rest due to Clint's apparently violent nightmares, and they were getting really good at avoiding any serious conversations.
When they did let their conversations approach Loki, Clint ended up shouting at Phil for stepping in front of a god, and Phil retaliated that Clint was refusing to let go of unfounded guilt. They both spent a lot of breath accusing each other of hiding from what really happened during those hellish three days. Phil would feel Clint's anger rolling off him in waves, and he wanted to make it go away, but how could he apologize for a last-ditch attempt at killing the maniac who ripped the center of his universe from him?
It was four months since Phil's brush with death and Clint had four documented panic attacks, was only cleared for Avengers work because Steve and Tony insisted they all needed him desperately, and took hours to calm down after an Avengers mission.
He wasn't cleared for SHIELD missions yet. He attended therapy with Evan Crawford, SHIELD's top psychologist, and would show up for dinner wrung out and pliant on those days, his eyes dark and shadowed. Phil would cook and they would eat silently, and then just curl together on the couch in front of a ball game until Clint would stand and stretch and go back to the Tower. Phil wanted him to stay, always wanted him to stay, but Clint hid behind his inability to sleep and still insisted on leaving.
They didn't sleep together, and they didn't share more than the occasional passionate good-night kiss. Clint seemed afraid of Phil's body, afraid of his own hands, afraid of. . . them. Phil hated it.
Now Clint stood in Phil's office stiffly, asked for Thanksgiving vacation time. He said he didn't really want to go, that his friends were insisting and he didn't want to let them down. After a pause, he met Phil's gaze and added, "They want you to come, too."
"They do?" Phil couldn't hide his surprise, and he swallowed down hope as Clint scowled at the floor like it had offended him.
"Yeah. When we got together last year it was right after Thanksgiving and Ruby was pissed she didn't get to meet you. She's the one insisting that you come along this year."
There was a stretch of silence, and Phil swallowed thickly before he asked, "Do you want me to come?" He remembered all those years of signing Clint's paperwork for the time off, and he tried to keep himself from wishing too hard right now.
Clint threw himself onto Phil's couch with a sigh. "Yes. No. I don't know."
Phil had a sudden, surprising feeling that they were going to have A Conversation, and those were rare in these days of stoic support. He moved to the couch next to Clint and leaned into his shoulder. "I'll understand if you want to go by yourself." And he would. Really, Clint was reeling from Manhattan. Phil wanted to keep their relationship going but wasn't sure how. Small touches, the way Clint's body unwound when he'd crash on Phil's couch, the way the stress lines around his eyes would soften when he leaned against the door to Phil's apartment all showed Phil signs of love, but Clint didn't really seem able reconcile that with the aftereffects of Loki.
Clint rubbed his hand over his face. "I think you should come. I think it would be good for us to get out of here for a while and –" he stopped and dropped his head, breathing deep.
"Clint?" Phil asked, and he put a tentative hand on Clint's back and rubbed gently.
"I think I need you to come," Clint finally whispered.
Phil felt a small weight lift from his chest. "Okay," he answered. "I'll come."
Clint just nodded, wiped his face with his shirt, and left.
Phil felt a little like he was preparing for his first sleepover when he was a kid, trading a shirt here, a pair of pajamas there – no, he would NOT bring his Cap jammies Clint had bought him when he was convalescing in the hospital after Loki – generally taking twice as long as he should have to pack. He also might have packed a week early, but this way he was ready. Unless an emergency came up, they had a Wednesday through Monday off, their first length of time off together since they started dating.
Clint got quieter and quieter the closer they got to leaving, and his eyes seemed to grow more and more distant, so when they sat down to dinner in Phil's kitchen the night before their trip, Phil had to ask, "Do you still want me to come?"
Clint looked up sharply from his plate and then sighed. "Yes. I'm just a little nervous." He paused and took a drink of his water before meeting Phil's gaze. "I talked to Evan at my psych appointment about it today."
"That can be exhausting," Phil answered with a smile.
Clint nodded. "Yeah. Yeah it was. Evan thinks it's a good idea, though, going back there."
It took Phil a second, but then he looked at Clint in surprise. "Going back there?"
"Yeah, I mean, I've only really been around you guys since Loki. I haven't really talked to anyone outside the Avengers about it and they're gonna want to know what happened. I mean," he said, pushing himself back from the table a little, "I don't plan on telling them anything major, like trying to blow up the Helicarrier or anything, but they know I'm an Avenger now – they've seen me on the news. They're going to want to want something, and I dunno –"
Phil realized he must have been gaping.
"Phil, what did you think I was nervous abo—oh, shit. No. I want you to go. I want you to meet them. You thought I didn't want you along?"
Phil didn't answer, torn between suddenly feeling selfish about making the trip about him when it clearly wasn't, and shouldn't be, and feeling so fucking relieved because he thought this might be another nail in the threatening coffin of their relationship. Before he could think up a response, Clint was on his feet, pulling Phil into an embrace, and burying his head in Phil's shoulder.
"Fuck, I keep screwing things up," Clint said into Phil's shirt. He leaned back and put his hand around the back of Phil's neck, and met Phil's eyes with an intensity absent since the battle. Phil's breath hitched and it seemed like the air in the room got thicker, heavier.
"I want you to come. I am absolutely ecstatic about introducing you to the people who took care of me as a kid and I know they're gonna love you. I know it. Well," Clint said, squinting one eye shut, "Christopher might not like you, but I don't give a fuck about what he thinks, never have. But the rest of them are gonna love you, and you'll be fine. You and Ruby will get along like a house on fire." He took a deep breath as if he were going to keep going, but Phil didn't let him.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Clint's lips, tasting spaghetti sauce and eagerness. Clint sighed into his mouth, and Phil kissed him deeply, running his tongue over Clint's teeth and pulling his body close. He could feel Clint's body heat simmering and refused to let Clint back away. He kissed him like he hadn't since the battle and let the excitement about the trip buoy his confidence that they were facing this together, this was their journey. He let himself explore Clint's mouth as he ran his hands over Clint's cabled arms and then down his back.
Clint returned the kiss and ran his hands almost frantically over Phil's body, searching for what they had lost in the battle, the physical closeness Clint hadn't allowed since they returned to each other. Palpable desire filled Phil's mouth and warmed his skin, and dinner was forgotten as they moved to the bedroom without breaking their embrace.
When they were finally sated, Phil ran his hands down Clint's cheeks and watched him try to control his own breath. He carefully wiped the silent tears that were tracking down Clint's face away with his thumb. He leaned over and kissed the corner of each of Clint's eyes and then down his cheek. "It's okay," he murmured. "I've got you."
He pulled Clint into his arms and moved so he could lean back against the headboard as Clint laid across his chest, burying his face in Phil's shoulder. He was trembling and breathing hard, soundlessly trying to stifle his tears. "Shhh," Phil whispered. "It's okay. We're together now and we're going to be okay. I've got you, Clint."
"I'm sorry," Clint said, his voice muffled by Phil's skin. "I'm so sorry."
Phil wasn't sure what Clint was apologizing for, but he knew it encompassed the three months since the battle that they'd been hovering around each other, afraid to touch, so afraid to break the other that they were hurting themselves with the distance. They both had things they felt the need to atone for, so he just nodded and said, "I know. Me, too, Clint. Me, too." And he ran his hands through Clint's hair and rubbed soothing circles on his back until Clint relaxed against him and they both fell into a dreamless sleep.
They woke early in the morning, grinning stupidly at each other for a minute before kissing lazily and then grudgingly getting up to shower. They took it together, taking turns gently scrubbing and massaging their hair, and washing each other reverently. They didn't talk much. Phil was content to let the moment be for now.
They ate a quick breakfast and loaded the car. They had a drive ahead of them.
They took Clint's car, which was a bonus to the trip for Phil because Clint had a forest green 1967 Ford Shelby GT Mustang that rode like a dream, and Phil hadn't gotten to ride in it for months. He crossed his fingers that Clint would let him drive it before the weekend was over. They made it out of the city in good time, heading for the Midwest where Clint's friend Ruby and her husband, Christopher, had a farm house in the southern hills of Ohio. It would take about fourteen hours to get there, and they were hoping to make it to Cleveland on the first day.
Despite their breakthrough night before, Clint was pretty quiet as they drove, wordlessly changing music from time to time or handing Phil control of the iPod and custom sound system. He and Phil shared a love of live jazz and some current bands, but diverged on most everything else. Phil chose what he knew Clint loved, filling the car with Janis Joplin when it was his turn to pick.
Clint shook his head and offered a small smile. "You may want to listen to your punk stuff while you can, Phil. There's a reason I like this garbage and you'll probably be sick of it before the weekend is out." He adjusted his faded blue baseball hat and shifted in his seat, and just shrugged when Phil left the album on despite his words.
Phil brought work to do, of course, and he did it while he waited for Clint to want to talk, but it was a few more albums before that happened. Finally, Clint sighed and looked over at Phil. "Did you read everyone's file before you left?" he asked.
"Whose files?" Phil replied, a little confused.
"You know. My friends. I just figured you had looked them up."
Phil tried not to be annoyed, but mostly failed. "Why would I look them up? I figured you'd tell me about them."
Clint's eyebrows shot up, and he blew a breath through his pursed lips. "Oh." He looked over and seemed to notice Phil's tense form. "Sorry."
Phil nodded. "I wouldn't invade your privacy like that."
"Oh. Okay."
"Tell me about them?"
"Well, I'll give you names, but you can find out about them yourself. You're good at that anyway," Clint said lightly, and he proceeded to rattle off Ruby, Christopher, Isaac, Suzy, Chloe, and Jake. Apparently there was a dog named Champ.
After finally getting through Columbus, Ohio on the second day, the hills started rising up to meet them, small at first but rolling into small mountains as they got closer to Ruby and Christopher's house. Phil marveled at how the grass got greener as they went, and how trees started to splash the hills with orange and red, thickening into a canopy as they wound through the last town they'd see.
"It's beautiful down here," Phil said, breaking the silence that had stretched since they stopped for lunch in Columbus.
"Yeah," Clint answered. "I think Ruby's grandma or aunt or something had the house and she used to visit here as a kid. There are some pretty cool caves to hike through if we want to." Clint glanced over at Phil and grinned. "You okay?" And he looked at Phil's hand, which he had unconsciously clenched into a fist.
Phil unclenched it and shrugged. "Sure, I guess." He looked back down at his hand and wiped it on his jeans. "No?" There really was no use hiding it.
Clint reached over and squeezed his knee. "Phil Coulson, nervous?"
"This is a scenario I've never actually been in before," he answered.
Clint raised an eyebrow. "You've never met someone's family before?"
"Actually, no. Thank you for giving me an absolutely new experience at my age," he said, and then he sat up straighter. "Wait. They do know I'm older than you, right?" He had a vision of them thinking he was a cradle robber, something that Jasper had joked about once and only once. Phil had trouble holding his temper when it came to Clint early on, and Jasper never brought the nine year age difference up again after that.
Clint chuckled. "Yeah, but they also know I've always gone for older guys. You get to meet Isaac, and he was my first real crush. He's a little older than you."
Phil's jaw actually dropped a little and Clint laughed outright. Phil was so grateful for the sound that he almost forgot to ask. "Your first crush?"
Clint cut his eyes back to the road. "Yep. He's about fifty-five now. He was the set and effects designer and he used to let me help out building crap. He would also loan me books and make me sit down and talk to him or Ruby about them. I did it without complaining because it meant I got to talk to him for an hour. He has these amazing green eyes and black wavy hair, and this voice like – well, he could've been a performer in a heartbeat if he weren't so wrapped up in the technical stuff. He didn't realize until it was too late that I was interested in more than just his books and building things." Clint's voice sounded wistful and bemused.
Phil tried to imagine a young Clint hunkering down on a straw bale or bench with a book and an older man. The image of someone trying to teach Clint about literature was kind of comforting, actually. "Too late? What did you do?"
Clint sucked in a breath. "I might have tried to kiss him one sunny afternoon." He glanced nervously over at Phil, who tried to stifle a grin.
"It didn't go so well. He was caught way off guard, so he kinda flipped out and stayed away from me after that. He wasn't mean about it, and it was right near the end of my run in the circus anyway, but that was the last time we read together." He paused for a minute and then shrugged. "We talked about it a little the first time I came out for Thanksgiving. I didn't blame him for freaking out. I was a punk kid and he wasn't interested. He could probably have gotten in some trouble if he had kissed me back anyway. I wasn't thinking about that when I was sixteen."
Phil watched the line of Clint's shoulders as he talked about what must have been a defining moment for him as a teenager. There was no tension, and the warmth in his voice as he told Phil about Isaac was clear.
It helped Phil relax a little, actually. He was going to meet the people who shaped the parts of Clint Phil loved best, it seemed. People who took care of him and tried to guide him, who stepped away when they could have hurt him. Phil had enough experience of his own with guys who weren't interested – they could be cruel if they wanted to. He was anxious to meet the man who first stole Clint's heart but didn't hurt him in the end.
Clint had enough people who had hurt him in the end.
The road narrowed as they talked, and finally turned into a dirty, dusty country lane. Clint turned off the radio and pulled to a slow stop.
"What are you doing?" Phil asked, and Clint turned his body in the seat so he was facing Phil.
"Look, I just wanted to say that if you get uncomfortable, you tell me. We don't have to stay. I know what it's like to feel out of place and I don't want that for you. I just have to stay a night and see everyone, and then we can leave if you want." He was turned toward Phil, but he wasn't really meeting Phil's gaze.
Phil reached over and pushed Clint's chin up to find his eyes. Behind the gorgeous blue he saw hesitation and doubt lurking. "I'm going to be fine. We'll stay the weekend like we planned and it'll be great." He leaned back and put his hand on the dashboard. "Besides, if I need to get away for a bit I'll just take the car for a spin."
Clint rolled his eyes and turned back to the wheel. "Now I know why you came. I'm just trying to be nice and you're trying to steal the car."
"Yup," Phil answered as Clint put the car back into drive and headed down the lane. "I always have backup plans, you know."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it. All you had to do was ask, asshole."
"It's better if you feel like you're offering."
"Just wait and see if I offer anything this weekend," Clint grumbled, but Phil was distracted by the oak trees that lined the driveway and the house that slipped into view, finally.
It was nestled in the trees and against a hill, and it was a warm brown slat covered house that looked like it had started out as a simple one-story cabin and then been added to over the years. Now it was two stories tall and had a wraparound porch covered in rocking chairs, hanging plants, and fall-colored rugs. The windows had pale blue shutters and the chimney was smoking. A gorgeous black Labrador came running from behind the house and barked loudly at the car. Phil figured that was Champ.
A tall woman with long gray hair tied back in a ponytail and a sparkling smile came out the front door as Clint parked, and a younger blond woman who seemed to be about Clint's age came jogging toward them from the backyard. Her face was streaked with dirt but her blue eyes shone as her smile widened with every step toward Clint. Another woman who was strikingly tall, had soft brown skin and dark curly hair halfway down her back came around the corner of the house behind her and was wiping her hands on a checkered handkerchief and watching warily.
"Clint!" the blond woman shouted, and Clint unfolded himself from the car just in time to be wrapped in a bear hug. He laughed and swung the woman around playfully before setting her on the ground and pulling away, just in time to be enveloped from behind by the older woman.
Clint turned and melted into her embrace. He buried his head in her shoulder and soft flannel shirt, and she glanced over at Phil briefly, her soft brown eyes wide, before turning her attention back to Clint, brushing her hand through his hair gently as he clung to her like a koala. "Hey, kiddo," she said softly.
The younger woman cocked her head at Clint and the older woman and then glanced over at Phil, running her eyes down his frame and back to his face. She wasn't smiling, but she seemed to catch herself and a friendly grin appeared as she stepped around the car and held her hand out.
"You must be Phil," she said, and Phil thought her voice sounded like a low-pitched wind-chime. It matched her dancing eyes and loose body.
He shook her hand and nodded. "Yes, thanks for inviting me."
She smiled wider and more genuinely as she shook his hand in a firm grip. "Of course we invited you. Clint's face does this thing when he talks about you and we needed to see who could manage that."
That got Clint's attention and he pulled away from his hug. His eyes were shining and wet, but he was grinning sheepishly. Phil began a new chart in his head and put Clint's reaction to this woman in the "I've never seen Clint do that before" category.
"What thing with my face?" Clint demanded, wrapping his arm around the older woman's waist, as if he didn't want to let her slip from his touch.
The two women laughed.
"You know, that thing with your eyes – they squint up and do this thing when you talk about him. It's adorable," the younger one said, talking to Phil at the end. He couldn't help but grin at them.
Clint cleared his throat. "Okay, fine. I like him. Everyone, this is Phil. Phil, this is Ruby," he said as he squeezed the older woman's waist, "And this is Suzy," he said, nodding at the younger woman who shook Phil's hand. As he introduced them, the tall woman who was out back with Suzy approached quietly.
"Hey, Clint," she said, and her voice was rich and warm, but didn't have the familiar tone that the others had.
"Chloe, hey," he said and gestured at Phil. "That's Phil."
She reached her hand out and Phil took it. "I'm with Suzy," she said with a grin, and something relaxed in Phil's chest as he realized he wasn't going to be the only outsider here, although she'd clearly been here before.
"It's nice to meet you," he answered and looked at everyone. "All of you."
Clint pulled apart from Ruby, grudgingly, it seemed, and shut his car door. "Where are Isaac and Christopher and Jake?" he asked.
"They're out back setting up the net. They were right in the middle –"Chloe started, but she was interrupted by a deep yell.
"Clliiiiiiinnnnt! Yes! It's about damned time!"
Phil glanced around the women and saw a tall, sturdy-looking man with short greying hair and rich green eyes raise tanned hands in the air as he hollered at Clint. He was wearing a dark Grateful Dead t-shirt, faded jeans and green Chuck Taylor's. Clint laughed and jogged over to him and wrapped him in as big a hug as he'd given Ruby. The man was a couple inches taller than Clint and he leaned back and pulled him off the ground. Clint held on tight.
Ruby stepped around the car and clasped Phil's hand. "Come on. Time to meet the boys." He let himself be led toward the man he knew must be Isaac and watched as he let go of Clint and ruffled his hair. Clint swallowed thickly and reached out for Phil. Ruby passed his hand to Clint's and Phil smiled.
"Isaac," Clint said, "This is Phil. Phil, this-"Clint's voice broke and Phil pulled him in close to his side as Isaac narrowed his eyes. "This is Isaac," Clint finished, his voice rough, and he pulled away from Phil and wrapped his arms around himself. Phil wanted to pull him back, but he didn't, giving Clint his space.
This was a new reaction and Phil didn't have all the intel.
"Clint?" Isaac asked, stepping toward him.
"Fuck," Clint whispered and he ran a hand down his face and clenched his teeth. He looked up at Phil and then over at Isaac.
Phil could see Ruby as she stopped herself from reaching for Clint, and when he looked at Clint he saw a flash of a scared young kid suddenly realizing that these were people who cared for him.
"It's just," Clint said, and he sucked in a deep breath, steadying himself. "It's really fucking good to see you guys." He moved back to Phil and leaned into his side. "It's been – it's been a really bad year and it's good to see you guys."
Clint had just shown more emotion in public in five minutes than he had in three months, and Phil's stomach churned at the implication of the importance of these people in Clint's life. It looked like Clint had underestimated it, too.
Ruby smiled widely, graciousness settling into her stance. "And it's been a long drive and I'll bet you're both exhausted. Come on in and have a sandwich and get settled. You three," she said, pointing at Clint's friends, "Go out back and see what's keeping Christopher and Jake tied up. Make sure they haven't tangled themselves in that net."
They all nodded, and Clint and Phil followed Ruby inside.
