Be your number one.

"He's gone," was the first thing that hits his ears as Clint wandered into the apartment a few hours, a good few miles on his feet plus a little bit of talking to himself out loud and odd looks because of it later.

"What?"

"Packed a bag and left sometime after you accused him of being a suicidal megalomaniac."

"Fuck! And I did not say that," he turned a witheringly glare at Tasha as he walked past to drop onto the couch next to her. He watching with an evil smirk as she had to hold her coffee cup away from her body to prevent it from spilling over her as Clint's body sent her and the mug slightly into the air with the force he landed with.

She looked vaguely waspish but her replied was understanding and gentle, "I know," she looked him in the eye, "so does he."

"Then why did he have to run away?" Clint couldn't help the little bitter tone entering his voice.

Tasha turned and gave him a look, "Okay, yeah," he gave her a cocky grin, "I ran first, but that's my style, not his."

"He's not... what I expected," she said frowning.

"What do you mean?"

"It's like he..." She stopped and thought about what she was saying, "He keeps coming across as a man that he doesn't much like and certainly doesn't understand and when he looks to see who it is it's his face that stares back at him each time."

"Oh man, that's a bit deep, been taking classes again," Clint sniggered.

"Dick!" She batted back.

Clint sighed heavily, "Ah shit, Tasha, have I fucked it all up again?"

"No," she replied with an exasperated sigh as Clint flopped his head down on her shoulder. "You're both fighting to keep your heads above the water right now, sometimes that results in you fighting with each other, it happens, don't over think it."

"Will he forgive me?"

"He's not pissed with you Clint, if anything I think he feels guilty because I think you got it right, and he's scared by that."

"Me to, Tash, me too."

She turned and pressed a gently kiss to his forehead.

Clint said sadly, "I've only just got him back and he's playing with his life... It scared me."

She smiled, "That's because you..."

She hesitated so Clint finished the sentence for her with a smile of his own, "Love him?"

"Hmm," was all she gave as an answer.

"Did he go back to the Bus?

"Yes."

"Is he coming back?"

"No."

"Oh," Clint said despondently.

"He's right, Clint, right now you two are not compatible, you both have things to work through."

"I can't not see him, Tasha."

"So go see him, he won't turn you away, just take some space too. He told me about the Hulk incident, so did Stark in graphic detail," she finished seriously, "you are both overwhelmed right now."

Clint snorted, "You can say that again."

"You both need some time, look at things with more perceptive, go say goodbye, let him ship out, he'll be back, he'll always come back," she said with certainty.

He laughed, "You sound like him now!"

"He will come back for you Clint, because you are his destiny." She took a sip from the almost empty cup.

Clint looked up at her and couldn't for the life of him think of another thing to say, so he snuggled even closer to one of the only two people, he felt comfortable enough to do it with.

The first thing he noticed was that the sling was gone, Phil was huddled over his paperwork, fountain pen in hand, back in the mandatory dark suit.

"I hope you didn't take that off by yourself," he commented to start the conversation off. He watched as Phil's head bobbed up as if surprised, Clint wasn't fooled of course, he knew Phil, and he was damn sure that 'Agent Coulson' had known he was there the whole time, it was a classic Coulson manoeuvre, it made the enemy think they'd gotten one up on you, it made them relax just a little bit, it was what could make that little bit of difference when the chips were down.

"I'm not you Barton," he retorted not giving away any emotion which would give Clint a clue on how he would be received.

"Well no, but I won't hold it against you, not everyone can be this lucky," he countered with a smirk. He was happy to see it returned, so he continued, looking round the room casually, "So when are you heading out?"

"Tomorrow."

Clint couldn't help the look of surprise as he said, "that's quick."

"I have made a quick recovery," he retorted, rotating his shoulder to prove it.

Clint spoke before his brain caught up (which was a common occurrence) and he instantly wanted the words back, "That's omnipotence for you."

Phil sighed loudly and Clint really did feel bad, as Coulson looked down at his desk and murmured, "Clint..."

Barton interrupted straight away, "No, look sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn't come here to argue with you."

"What did you come for," Phil asked gently.

"To see you," Clint said honestly, "I miss you."

"I only left yesterday," Phil's mouth lifted in amusement, as his head lifted again to look at his lover.

"Separation Anxiety, remember?" Clint smiled.

Coulson couldn't help but laugh with Clint, remembering a conversation they had shared about the diagnosis making Clint sound like a dog, he chuckled, "Ah yes, just don't go chewing the furniture or urinating on the bed while I'm gone."

"I could make a lurid comment about being a good boy and getting a bone when you get home but I'll avoid it seeing as we are in your place of work."

Phil snorted and said "Thank you for that."

The smiles dropped at the same time as they realised they were both trying just a little too hard to be bright and normal when neither of them clearly were.

Clint couldn't help the words blurting out, "You're coming back?" It sounded needy even in his own ears.

Phil looked equally uncertain as he returned, "If you'll have me?" He swallowed on the words as Clint looked away frightened by the gesture.

Clint looked back as he frustratedly said, "Perhaps we should see a marriage counsellor."

Phil raised his eyes but his lips lifted, "We aren't actually married."

"I know, we should probably change that at some stage too." Clint said matter of fact.

Coulson's eyebrow nearly managed to reach his receding hair line which really was saying something. "Did you just propose to me?"

"Hell no, I'm just doing a bit of forward planning," he smirked.

"Okay I'm really in The Twilight Zone now," Clint looked quizzical, "Clint Barton, marriage proposal and him forward planning, definitely not of this universe!"

"Fuck you," he laughed, "I'll have you know I'm very forward thinking, I once rented a video and ordered the sequel for the next day at the same time!"

"Careful Clint, videos, you're showing your age. Just so we are clear I would at least expect dinner, rings and romance."

Clint snorted, "Okay, Black and white TV man." His face became serious as he said, "to clear up my side I need proof that you are not deliberately getting yourself hurt, Phil."

Coulson looked down at his desk and picked up his pen again, smile wiped from his face, "You know for someone that regularly throws themselves off of office blocks, you have a kind of cheek."

Clint's hand slammed down on the paperwork but when he spoke it's not with anger but concern. "There is a difference Phil, a big one, you see I trust the people around me from hitting the floor. You are..."

Phil interrupted quickly, "were!"

Clint's face contorted, "were," he said without much conviction, "doing it to see what would happen."

"I..." Phil started, but Clint stopped him mid-sentence this time.

"If what is going to come out of your mouth now is a lie, a half truth or a platitude, then you better close it right now."

Phil shut his mouth at the words, he nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement, and watched as Clint's face relaxed a bit.

"I'm serious Phil, I'm letting you go," Phil's mouth opened to protest, "I know I couldn't stop you but humour me here," he said and watched as the older man closed it again, "but you need to prove to me that all that shit is over." He came round the side of the desk and knelt down in front of the man's legs as he shifted his chair to accommodate Clint. "You scared me Phil, and I hate all this grown up stuff, that's your role in this relationship," he said jokingly trying to relieve the tension.

Phil managed a wane smile and tried valiantly to play along, "have I got to sit on the naughty step?"

"Damn straight and I will give May my permission to do just that."

"Shit, she would too."

"Too right!"

"I'm going to go now, but I want you to think about this, Phil," Clint was pleased to get a little nod from the older man.

"You know, this little team you have built here is pretty impressive," Clint liked the small proud smile that graced his lovers' lips, "Because you look at them on paper and seriously it shouldn't work but it does, and you are the reason, they are a team for you but..."

"But?" Phil asked.

He wondered if he should say it but they needed to be honest with each other, "You need to be part of that team, you don't let them back you up like they should, frankly Phil, right now you are the only one that isn't a team player. You're reckless, be a leader by standing back sometimes, let them do their job, it's not always necessary for you to be on the front line."

They said their goodbyes, and Barton left soon after, saying farewell to every member, having a brief chat with May as Phil watched from the gallery in the loading bay, his lips upturned as if he understood the message that the archer was trying to get across by stopping May, 'I'll be listening', Clint hoped that they had come to an understanding but he would have no idea the impact those last words would have in only a few weeks time!

It was a warm New York day, Clint was for once relaxing, away from any thoughts of S.H.I.E.L.D. or Stark towers and it's residents, he had spoken little to the Avengers since Phil had left, he didn't really feel comfortable talking with them without his other half. Phil had told him countlessly to go ahead, listen to what they said, go with his heart but Clint didn't really feel ready to hear it. He wasn't trying to make them feel guilty he just wasn't sure how he actually felt. He'd been pleasant with them, turned up for training and meetings, they had been called out a couple of times and things had gone remarkably well, Phil would have been proud! But he didn't socialise with them anymore, he spent his time at his apartment, not always his own, Natasha had camped out with him since her return, also not happy to go back to the fold, but all too soon she had been sent off again and now he had to admit the place felt a bit empty and god forbid, lonely! He missed Phil, they spoke regularly on the phone but it wasn't the same as having him around. Phil had hoped to get away, return for a bit but when the rest of the team had gone to the academy Phil had jetted off with May instead. He was disappointed, but he understood, especially when he had whispered down the secure line his and Melinda's findings about Skye.

Phil had been quiet over the phone, Clint knew his thoughts weighed him down, staring into the unknown was never pleasant. From what Clint could make out the agent had been thrust into the eye of the storm with his investigations into the clairvoyant. Phil himself seemed to be the focus for Centipede and Clint was well aware it wasn't nice having a target on your back even if they seemed more interested in catching him than killing him. There was no telling when that might change, and the risk to the rest of his team when they came after him was a constant worry.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a waitress slid up to his table and asked if she could get him anything else, not hiding her interest, but hey, Clint really did fancy another cup of coffee and the only reason he followed her with his eyes as she went back in was because she practically skipped with excitement because he had ordered something from her. He smiled, he'd have to tell Phil how he hadn't lost his touch with the other sex. Phil would probably laugh and tell him not to even think about touching!

Clint's phone started to ring so he pulled it out of his jeans pocket, speak of the devil Clint smiled, and answered happily, "Hey Phil!"

There was a long pause when Clint wondered if they had been cut off but then he heard a strangled sob and he sat up straighter, "Phil!"

The words when they came were whispered, deep with emotion, "You were right," it was almost a sob, "It's my fault, I should have been more careful, my fault" He repeated.

Clint stood up from the coffee shop table, coffee forgotten and started to walk somewhere less public and quieter. "Phil, calm down tell me what's happened." He said looking around for somewhere to go.

"They shot her, God Clint, they shot her twice," Phil's voice cracked, and Clint is relieved to find himself a narrow alleyway, and he leans heavily against the brick wall. Almost scared to ask he said, "Who got shot?"

"Skye." Phil barely breathed out the word and Clint couldn't think of a worse answer for Phil, he loved the girl like a daughter, it got worse though as Phil finished with, "They shot her point blank." Clint flinched he knew what that likely meant, massive internal damage, he had witnessed more than his fair share.

"I'm... my fault," Phil was rambling, muttering to himself. Clint needed to get him focused.

"Coulson, I want your report on what happened right now." His tone sounded a little harsh but it was the best way to concentrate Coulson's mind. It worked as Phil started to rattle off a debrief to Barton, starting at the very beginning. His voice was controlled until the end when it started to falter as he told Clint of the devastating injuries. Once again, he started to repeat that it was his fault, how she had looked to him and he had only shown her how to be reckless. Clint closed his eyes at the word, because he remembered using the exact word to Phil and it was coming back to haunt him just as it was tormenting the man on the other end.

"Where are you?" Barton asked.

"The hospital," he voice cracked as he tried to talk, "they said..."

"Tell me Phil," he said gently.

"They said that there is nothing they can do, she is going to die Clint."

Clint couldn't help the sharp intake of breath at the words.

"They... the others, they won't look at me, Clint, they blame me, I know it, I deserved it."

Barton gritted his teeth, "No, no Phil," he didn't believe that, more likely they knew how much she meant to him but didn't know what to say, none of them were the most socially competent, the kooky twins sweet as they were, basically lived on a different planet, May, well Phil had actually laughed down the phone the first laugh he had got from the man in a long time when he had explained about how May had started chatting, yes chatting, to him in order to coax him out a bit, Ward was... it probably wasn't at all fair but Clint hadn't really taken to him, apart from Phil and ironically Skye herself the rest had the conversation skills of a teenagers! If anyone did blame Coulson, they hadbetter be watching their backs for one Clint Barton!

After deriding the others internally Clint actually could have tutted to himself when he found that he didn't actually know what to say himself to comfort his lover, he wanted to be there with Phil, if he was there he could hold him and let the man cry into his shoulder, rub circles on his skin as he made him rest in his arms, because he was a hands on sort of guy but long distance phone calls weren't so easy. He wanted to make it all better, but he couldn't so he ended up saying, "There is always hope."

Barton actually started to panic that it's about the worse thing he could have possibly said when Phil doesn't answer. His self esteem was crap when it came to these sorts of... feelings... and he was just about to come up with an apology for being a thoughtless dick when Phil spoke.

The sudden relief was tempered when he listened to what Phil was saying and then he cursed his words not for the thoughtlessness of them but because he seemed to have put into Phil's head an idea that probably had no place to be there!

"You're right," Phil said, a touch of wonder in his voice, "I survived, that is what we need to do, find the answers... in the folder! The answers must be there!"

Clint's mind can only come up with 'what the fuck' articulate as it was, and he said worriedly, "Phil, I don't think..." but the bastard interrupted him.

"I have to go, I need to speak to the team, bye Clint."

"PHIL!" He desperately tried to stop the man ringing off, but the phone went dead, and he cursed to the empty street, gripping the offending phone in his hands to prevent him throwing it across the alley, "FUCKING HELL." His fingers fumbled with the keys as he tried to ring back but the phone at the other end had been turned off, he could swear at Phil right now for doing that and tried May's number instead only to get the same message before realizing that they were in a hospital and they probably had little choice.

Which left Clint with no choice either he would have to wait this one out and he didn't like it one little bit!