Phil blasted the radio on the drive back to his new apartment, trying to drown out his thoughts. He had moved last month. Once he had accepted that Clint wasn't coming back. He hadn't been able to stand the memories of the home they'd made together. Phil had packed away most of the more sentimental things, storing them in a storage locker upstate. Somewhere far enough away to prevent any late-night woe-is-me binges.

He was fantasizing about a Supernanny marathon and a gallon of coffee spiked with the hardest stuff he could find as he unlocked the door. He slipped inside without looking up. Letting the tension and sadness finally sink onto his shoulders, forcing him to hunch over slightly. It'd been a long day and it was only 2 o'clock.

"You moved?"

Phil's head snapped up as his whole body went rigid. Clint Barton was sitting awkwardly at the edge of the sofa. It was the same sofa from their old apartment but he was perched on the edge like he was scared to make contact with it. Anger boiled up in Phil's chest at this invasion of privacy. At the fact that he'd let Barton see just how much this all was getting to him.

If Barton had wanted out so bad that was one thing. He didn't need to keep pestering Phil about it. He knew how to take a hint. Even one that was as obvious as a billboard lit in neon lights. Barton had left. Whatever they had been, Barton hadn't wanted it. Phil would just have to learn to accept that. But he couldn't do that if Barton was dogging his every step.

Phil slipped his gun out of its holster and pointed it at Barton's head. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House." He growled.

"It's an apartment actually." Clint smirked half-heartedly. It was a joke he'd used to make about their old place. Phil always called it their house and Clint – BARTON - had always corrected him.

Phil cocked the gun. "Get out."

Barton's smile fell and he dropped his head. "Just two minutes. Just give me two minutes? Then I'll walk out and never come back." Phil weighed his options. A part of him wanted nothing more than to let Cl-Barton explain; to know why he had run off so suddenly. But an even larger part was still writhing in his anger. Just when he was finally starting to move on, to accept that Barton was never coming back, the damn man shows up at his door. How dare he? How dare he come waltzing back like it'd just been any other mission? Like he hadn't tried to make a run for it? Like he hadn't asked for a Kill Shot. Phil knew the program was real and it was obvious that that's what Barton had done. But he had come back. For some reason, he'd come back. And honestly, Phil wished he hadn't.

"I said out." Phil gestured towards the door with his gun.

Barton bit his lip and closed his eyes. Phil didn't move, still aiming his gun at Barton's heart. Finally, Barton stood up and crossed to the door. His path took him within a foot of Phil, who shied away instinctively. He swore he heard Barton give a soft sob at Phil's movement, but neither said anything. Until finally Barton was standing on Phil's doorstep where he hesitated and turned around. "Please, can I just, Ph-"

Phil slammed the door and flipped the deadlock with a loud click.

The moment it was closed he collapsed to the floor, gun skittering across the room. But there were no tears. Nothing but a hollow emptiness wrapped around the jagged hole in his chest. All those months of hoping, of imagining what he'd do and say when Barton finally came back. Never had he imagined that it would be like this. Of course, in their time together, of all the ways he'd imagined losing Clint, he never imagined Barton would pull something like this.

;;;

Phil awoke the next morning to his phone ringing. The call was from Fury. He ignored it. And the seven other calls and half a dozen texts before finally just pulling the battery from his phone.

Phil never made it out of bed that day. Or the next. He only managed to stumble to the bathroom, not bothering to eat anything. It'd long been his rule that it was healthiest to eat only when he was hungry, and he really really wasn't hungry.

On the third day, Phil was awoken at 6am by a loud pounding on his door. He groaned and rolled over, hoping the person would eventually give up and go away. Five minutes later the pounding stopped, replaced by the sound of Phil's front door slamming open then shut again. Phil lay still, listening to the familiar footsteps cross his apartment. He didn't bother looking up as Fury loomed in the doorway to his bedroom.

"You have work to do, Agent Coulson."

Phil groaned. "I resigned, remember."

"Oh, yes. That was quite memerable. I think the stories about that will go down in SHIELD lore. However, you are an irreplaceable asset that SHIELD cannot afford to lose. I've allowed you three days, now stop moping and get back to the office." Phil tried not to flinch as Fury tore away the blankets. "Report to HQ by 0800 or I'm sending a team after you." Fury spun and strode from the room, his coat billowing behind him. Phil rolled his eyes. That man always had a flair for the dramatic.

;;;

It was easier than Phil expected, going back to work. Other than the rumors that swirled through the hallways, even faster than usual, it was just like it had been the last 7 months. Phil had grown used to people staring at him like they were expecting him to snap at any second.

The only difference was that this time there was Barton. Not that Phil saw him, but Phil still knew he was there. Because technically Phil was still his handler and so all of his paperwork was sitting in a pile on Phil's desk. In a separate pile next to it were the files on the three other assets he had selected before Barton had returned. Laying between them was a note from Fury saying 'It's up to you.' Phil knew what it meant and he appreciated Fury's consideration. Fury was giving Phil the chance to choose. He could go back to how it'd been before and take over again as Barton's handler or he could drop him and start over with three new assets.

It should have been an easy decision. Barton had betrayed Phil's trust. He had disappeared without so much as a wave goodbye. How was Phil supposed to trust him again? To trust that Barton would have his back in the field? That he'd still be there at the end of every mission. Phil would worry every time the comms went silent, not because he was worried for Barton's safety, but because he was worried that Barton had vanished again.

On the other hand, Phil really didn't want to start over. He'd put too many years into building up his place in SHIELD, he didn't want to have to train new assets to work with him in the field. Even if the new agents were as amazing as their files said, Phil knew he'd never have the same rapport with them as he did with Barton. They'd been a seamless and unstoppable team. And Barton had thrown it all away.

The two stacks of files were all but fighting each other in Phil's mind. But it was no contest. Phil had known from the moment he'd decided to put on his suit and come into the office. He'd had three days to mourn, now it was time to set his feelings aside and do what was best for SHIELD. And that was keeping its best team intact.

The file was thicker than Phil remembered as he pulled it towards him. He figured it was from the notes on his last op. He was surprised then when he flipped it open to see another sticky note from Fury. 'Thank you. P.S. You get Romanov' The note was stuck to the front of another smaller file that had been nestled into Barton's. It was full of everything SHIELD had on Natalia Romanova, which was shockingly little. Phil huffed a sigh. Looked like he was getting a new asset after all.

;;;

Phil knew Barton would show up in his office eventually. He didn't know if it'd be days or weeks, but Barton would come.

What Phil hadn't expected, was to want Barton to show up. He'd spent months realizing each and every quirk about Barton that had made Phil's days go by faster. And he'd had enough time to grasp that he'd never experience them again. Now that he knew that he could, it made it harder to accept that he wouldn't. He wanted to see Barton sprawled across his couch, or tipping back in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on Phil's desk. Or to hear him shuffling through the air vents, trying his hardest to sneak up on Phil just once. Hell, he'd even enjoy Barton shooting paperclips at his computer screen just to see how long it took for Phil to crack.

So when Barton finally slipped into Phil's office a week later, Phil was almost tempted to smile. Almost. Seeing Barton here made it all so real again. That Barton had left. That he'd been dead. Only not. Which made Phil want to grab one of the paperclips from his desk and kill him with it. And it made him want to cross the room and hold Clint close and never let go again. And to just have Barton pretend none of this had ever happened. And to just break down and explain all of this to Phil. Phil wanted so many things, but he settled on doing nothing at all. He just capped his pen, setting in down carefully on his desk, and looked up as Barton perched himself on the edge of one of the chairs across from him.

Seeing Barton up close, Phil noticed just how awful he looked. There were bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept for days. His skin was pale and his fingers were blistered. He must have been shooting without his glove again. Something about that made Phil's heart ache. Barton only 'accidentally' forgot his glove when something was truly, horribly wrong.

"Can I help you, Barton?" Phil asked, when Barton made no move to speak.

Clint took a deep breath, pausing before letting it out slowly through his nose. "You're still my handler."

Phil heard the question behind the words. "Yes. Is there a problem with that? Did you want me to switch you to someone else?"

"No!" Barton's eyes flared wide. "I mean, no... not if you... I just thought..."Barton dropped his head back with a huff.

"You thought I'd let personal issues interfere with work." Phil's voice stayed neutral, even as his heart sped up, watching as Barton struggled to understand. "My emotions never interfered with work before, and they won't now. Is that all?"

"No - can't I just?" Barton's head finally came back up and Phil saw the tears Barton was barely holding back. He was asking for permission to explain. Phil knew this needed to happen; he'd been preparing himself for it. If they were going to be in the field together, they needed to know that they could tell each other anything. So Phil gave a small nod, indicating for Barton to proceed. The small smile that lit up Barton's face hit Phil like a wave, momentarily shutting down his brain. It came scrambling back as Clint started to speak. "I'm not an optimist, Phil - Coulson" Barton changed the name at a raised eyebrow from Phil. "I don't expect to have good things and whenever I get something good I expect for it to be torn away from me. It's just how my life is, and I'd learned to accept it. Until I found something that would destroy me to lose.

"You. I- I couldn't stand the idea that - " Barton sighed. "So I left, because if I hadn't, and I lost you..." A single tear slipped down Barton's face and Phil had to fight back the urge to wipe it away. "Going on the mission was a mistake. And I knew that three days after I'd left. But Fury had already started the Kill Shot process; had already told you that I - you know."

"That you were dead. That your body was lying in a ditch in some third world country. That I'd have to bury an empty coffin." Phil spat the words.

"I'm so sorry Phi- Coulson." Barton caught himself halfway through Phil's name, changing it with a sigh. "I came back as fast as I could. I would have ditched the mission, but Fury had burned all my papers. Plus, I didn't want to ruin my perfect record." Clint smirked. A poor imitation of his normal cocky grin.

"I think recruiting the target technically still counts as a failed mission, since it failed to achieve the mission objectives." Phil deadpanned. Barton gave another small smile. "Though I do have to say that I'm impressed. Not many people walk away from the Black Widow in one piece."

"Yeah, Nat's pretty awesome." Something in Barton's tone made Phil's jealousy flare up.

"She's proving quite above expectations in our testing." Phil agreed. "She's one of the best I've ever seen. She will be a good addition to our team."

"You don't have to stay on, if you don't want."

Phil held up a hand to silence Barton. "Stop. Like I said, work is work. You have never given me any reason to distrust you in the field-" Phil pressed on, ignoring how the last few words made Barton flinch, "so I will continue to be yours, and now Romanov's handler."

"Right. Okay. Um... good?" Barton nodded to himself and stood up.

"Wait." Phil dug his keys from his pocket and quickly unhooked a single small key. He threw it to Barton who snatched it out of the air easily. "A storage facility up-state. It has some of your things that you might need."

"Thanks. I'll bring the key back tomorrow."

"Keep it. There's nothing in there I want right now." Barton's face fell at Phil's words. "But - " Barton's eyes locked with Phil's, the smallest glimmer of hope behind them. "maybe someday I'll change my mind. Maybe I'll stop feeling rejected and abandoned and like I did something to drive you away. Maybe eventually I'll stop waiting for this all to be a dream and for you to still be dead. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to trust you to talk to me about your fears rather than just going AWOL, because then I could have told you how much I love you and that there was nothing that could change that. Not even you doing something as stupid as pretending to be dead for 7 months." Barton grinned and it made Phil's heart flutter. He knew that there was no question that he still loved Barton, but Phil couldn't have a relationship without being able to trust his partner to stick around. "Though stupid things like that make it impossible for me to trust you not-in-the-field."

"Is there anything I can do?" Barton took a hesitant step closer, he took another when Phil didn't flinch or move away.

"Just prove that I'm never going to wake up to find you gone again. Just don't disappear."

"Any idea how long will it take to prove that?" Barton took another step forward, finally pushing into Phil's personal space and Phil had to take a step back.

"No."

Barton nodded, resigned. "Okay. Fair enough. But just FYI, I know what it's like to live without you and I'm never doing that again. So however long it takes, whatever it takes -" Barton turned and headed for the door. He hesitated with his hand above the handle before looking back at Phil with a hesitant smile. "I love you."

Phil's body flooded with warmth and he smiled back at Clint. "I love you too."