A/N: IT'S UPDATING TIME! BUT, before getting to the part I imagine you all came here for…

THANK YOU, so very much, for all your absolutely amazing reviews, listings, love and support! (BEAMS, and hugs) This story's been budding to life in the back of my head for AGES, so it warms my heart that you're taking this journey with me.

Awkay, before I get so sentimental that Natasha would throw something sharp at me… Let's go! I really hope that you'll have a good time (even if this isn't exactly a feel-good chapter).

On popular demand I'll expend the little bit at the end of the previous chapter. Over the rest of the story we'll see glimpses of a mission that changed something fundamentally for Clint, and showed him that there's one person he can trust.


Broken Trust, Bruised Hearts


/ Clint was used to being picked on. To being beaten up by those who were bigger and stronger. There was fairly little he could do about his size but as years upon years passed by he worked tirelessly to make himself stronger. And eventually he was able to hit back.

In fact, he learned that entirely too well. He always fought alone. And somewhere along the way he forgot how to rely on others.

Phil Coulson sighed heavily while sitting beside the boy, who was currently sporting a split lip and who knows how many bruises. "So… According to Anderson and Donovan you attacked first." He flipped through a file. "Quite an impressive list of damage you did. A couple of cracked ribs, extensive bruising, a few chipped tooth…"

"I've never unpacked my bags." Clint's voice was carefully controlled but it was easy to catch the venom and hurt underneath. The kid didn't look at him. "When do you expect my resignation from the training system?"

"We have surveillance cameras, you know? Besides… I wouldn't have needed those. You can be a real thorn in my side with that temper of yours, but you're no idiot." 'I trust you', was what Phil hoped to convey. Because something told him that the kid had faced far too few people who would've believed in him. He went on when the archer offered no reaction. "Those two were the ones who ganged up on you. Fury's already sent them packing."

Clint nodded, very slowly. Clearly wondering whether to believe him. Then muttered quietly. "They don't trust a former crook. And they shouldn't."

Phil shrugged with lightness he didn't feel. "Then we'll prove them wrong." Facing a pair of questioning eyes, he went on. "You're ready for a practice mission."

They should've known that it'd all go wrong. /


Phil gasped as he woke up quickly and violently, eyes flying open. Instantly and instinctively his hand began to reach out for a concealed weapon. Fortunately he never had the time to actually grab it. Because all of a sudden he was coherent enough to recognize Laura Barton's exhausted face. The baby in her arms was whimpering. Phil, curiously, found himself wanting to emit something similar under her searching gaze.

"You were muttering in your sleep", Laura revealed. "And it didn't seem like anything pleasant. You okay?" She didn't ask what he dreamt of and it occurred to him that she had to be used to waking someone up from a nightmare.

Phil nodded slowly. He swallowed thickly, hating the taste sitting stubbornly in his mouth, and took a steadying breath. "Clint?"

The look on Laura's face darkened. "They just took him to surgery. Again."

Phil's shoulders sagged and he looked away, guilt striking with enough force to make him shiver.

The doctors rallying around Clint had made it adamantly clear how little they believed in the archer's chances of recovery. They were, however, going to keep fighting for as long as the Hawk would. Even if it was more than likely that they were fighting a losing battle.

Firmly pushing his thoughts elsewhere before he would've ended up losing control, he looked around and frowned. "Where are Lila and Coop?" It'd been four days and while Lila would definitely need to talk to a professional about the trauma she went through, she no longer needed medical care. Or that's what he understood from Natasha's curt reports.

"Nat's looking after them." Laura took a deep breath. It shuddered. "Lila… You know how she hates hospitals. She wanted to try to stay, though, so badly." She shook her head at the clearly unpleasant memories. "It's not like kids would be allowed to the ICU, anyway."

Phil opened his mouth to say something, anything. Words of comfort and reassurance. If only his tongue didn't get tied. He wanted to be there to support all the Bartons but didn't feel like he had the right when this was all his fault.

How did everything become such a mess?

"Eighty-seven." Laura's voice startled him back to the present. She wasn't looking at him, or the noisy baby in her arms. There was a faraway look in her pained eyes. "That's…" She cleared her throat but her voice still didn't sound right when she continued. "That's how many times I've really, honestly thought that 'this is it'. 'This is the one he isn't going recover from.' And it's…" She emitted a choked sound. "It's horrible. And…" She gritted her teeth. "Sometimes… Sometimes I hate the fact that I love him enough to make myself go through it, over and over again." Finally they locked eyes. "After Loki… After he thought he lost you… For the first time I actually did lose him. I have no idea which… thing did more damage, but… A tiny part of him never came back from that. I don't even know how many nights he didn't sleep at all, or woke up screaming. Sometimes he called out to you, until he… stopped." She rubbed her face roughly with one hand while the other supported her child. "He wouldn't talk about any of it, no matter how hard I tried. I wouldn't have known when your funeral took place if I didn't catch him deleting the text-invite from Fury."

Screw getting stabbed by Loki, this hurt much, much more.

Phil couldn't look at Laura anymore as she continued. "I'm not telling you this to make you feel worse, because you already look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. But… I need you to understand what it all did to him. So you know why I can't hug you right now, no matter how happy I am to have you back. I might end up punching you if I tried."

Phil sighed heavily. He wasn't the only one with the weight of the world on their shoulders and he wanted to hold her hand to offer support, but didn't dare to touch her. "I'm sorry", he murmured, and meant it from the bottom of his heart.

"Why did you do it?" Laura wasn't accusing him, although he could tell that she was angry. She was trying to understand. "You know how important you are, to us all. Why would you do that?"

Phil sighed heavily. It wasn't like he got to choose, at first. "For the team. To give them something that'd keep them together." It sounded ridiculous, now that he thought about it. And horribly cruel.

It was Laura's turn to sigh. "Something like that can't be built on a lie. It's like making a house out of rotten wood. Eventually it'll fall apart." Her voice carried a great deal of sadness. "They've been friends for a long time, now, but it wasn't until less than a year ago Clint told them that he has a family. They're a mess, desperately trying to be the team you would've wanted them to be."

Phil frowned, almost winced at the tight band squeezing around his stomach. He felt cold all over. "Fury's been saying that the team's functioning well."

"Nick may be a genius when it comes to a lot of things", Laura acknowledged, far more softly than anyone would've dared to expect of her. "But when it comes to understanding how the hearts of human beings' work… Well, that man's an idiot."

She actually succeeded in making Phil smile. Just a little bit, without him even noticing it. "That he is." Only one woman had ever been brave enough to try and teach the one eyed man to understand emotions, and that… didn't end well.

"Why did you stay away for so long?" Laura's gaze could be felt, even if he couldn't bring himself to face it. "It's been years, Phil. Why didn't you come back home?"

Phil looked down towards his hands, which were squirming in his lap. Shame joined guilt, making him feel sick to his stomach. "I didn't know how to", he admitted. "I couldn't just march back in saying 'surprise, I'm not dead'." Someone with Clint and Natasha's trust issues would've actually killed him for pulling such a stunt. For treating their very much real grief like a joke. Phil's jawline tightened. "And… The timing just never felt right. When I was… well enough, it looked like everyone had moved on. I had a team to look after, and there was the aftermath of New York. Then S.H.I.E.L.D fell." Plus, on top of all that, he found out that he actually did die for a while, but it wasn't something he felt like blurting out loud. He shook his head, chaotic flashbacks making it all feel like a strange dream. "Time kept rushing by and… It just felt like I didn't have a place in my former life anymore. That life had already moved on without me."

"Moving on doesn't mean that we would've ever stopped missing you."

Phil didn't know what to say to that so he uttered nothing. Instead he looked at the baby, who seemed to have finally succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep. "I… didn't know that you two had a third one."

Laura smiled like only a proud mother can. "Meet Nathaniel. Usually he's a little ball of sunshine but he's having a cranky day."

Phil looked at the child with a small, sad smile. For a few moments he felt tempted to ask for a permission to hold him but decided against it. "I've missed out on a lot", he mused out loud, more to himself than Laura. He then cleared his throat and spoke more loudly, feeling the need to pierce to gloomy silence which fell. "You poor thing. That one…" He nodded towards Nate. "… is definitely his dad's son. See? He's even got the Barton pout, to perfection." He grinned when the baby emitted a sleepy sound, as though agreeing. "Oh yes, you'll be running around in no time, looking for trouble and driving your mom insane."

Laura punched his shoulder with a fist. Gently. "Stop trying to make me laugh when I'm still mad at you." It probably sounded a lot fonder than she meant it to.

They both needed a distraction. So over the next few hours Laura told him everything about the Barton family he'd missed out on. Good, bad, even the embarrassing. And Phil told her about the new team he'd been entrusted with. Also the good and bad. It gave them both a sweet illusion that the mess at hand – Phil's sudden return, Clint's condition – weren't happening.

Until reality crashed down on them.

The doctor who entered the room had a chillingly grim look on his face. Yes, Laura was still processing everything that'd been thrown at her. But in that time of need she grabbed his hand, tightly enough for it to hurt. Phil's fingers curled firmly around hers as well while they both tensed up, waiting for the verdict.


Natasha couldn't remember the last time she would've slept properly. She was… worried, was most likely the proper term. She hated it, because no one had ever taught her how to handle such. Clint tried to. So did Phil.

She clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing as she pushed back the thought of her former handler – friend. She'd process her feelings towards Phil's… departure, and return, when Clint had recovered. Until then she'd focus on other things.

Hearing her phone ringing and seeing Fury's name on the screen did little to ease her mind. She gritted her teeth so tightly that it hurt before picking up. "Did you notify them?" The rest of the Avengers were on a mission so letting them know about Clint's situation had taken too long.

"I did." There was a small pause. "I… also told them about Coulson."

Natasha's temper flared. It took all her self-control to keep her tongue in check. "I have to go."

"Look…"

Natasha was about to start growling things she probably wouldn't have regretted later even if she should've. Then a small, painfully familiar cry carried to her ears, effectively snatching her from those troubling thoughts. "I have more important things to do than ease your guilty conscience. Over and out." She hung up without giving Fury a chance to respond.

Natasha sighed, still feeling on the edge. Time to face the other reason she was losing sleep. On her way she checked to make sure that Cooper was asleep. The boy was resting albeit not exactly peacefully, with a deep frown that looked far too adult on his face. The sight would've broken anyone's heart.

The shout Natasha heard earlier turned into sobs, and she remembered that she still had some distance to cover. She steeled herself with a deep breath, then continued onwards. "Lila?" she whispered as soon as she reached the little girl's room.

The child was in her bed, firmly under covers and curled up. It was easy to see that the whole tiny frame was trembling. The sobs refused to stop despite visible attempts.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Natasha went on after a barely traceable nod. "Do you want to talk about it?" The answering shake of a head was quick and resolute. "How about some hot chocolate, then?"

"Daddy isn't gonna be okay this time, is he?" To hear such hopelessness and grief in such a little girl's voice… "I… I heard you and mommy, earlier."

Natasha sighed heavily. Oh, how she hated this…! "Sweetie… Your dad was hurt really, really badly. And… The doctors have worked really hard to help him. They're worried." She sat to the edge of the bed and stroked Lila's hair gently, letting the child lean in to the comfort. The Widow could only hope that she wouldn't mess this up royally because she had no idea what she was doing. "But you and I… We both know that your dad would never, ever leave you guys without fighting with all he's got."

Lila said nothing to that, likely didn't believe her. Somehow that loss of faith was the most heartbreaking part. The silence stretched. "I tried to be brave", the girl whispered. "I swear I did."

"I know." Natasha narrowed her eyes again in a valiant effort to get rid of the searing sensation filling them. "But you're just a little girl, you know? It's not your job to stay brave." Flashbacks of herself in Lila's age filled the Widow's head and she shivered violently, feeling ill all of a sudden.

Lila's sobs quieted a little but didn't end entirely. When the child finally spoke her voice was almost inaudible. "I… I think I wet the bed." The girl sounded humiliated and absolutely miserable.

Natasha did her best to not show how much her own heart hurt. "It's okay", she swore and kissed the child's head to enforce her words. "We'll change the sheets. And then we'll have a midnight ice cream party, just us girls. How does that sound?"

"Sprinkles?"

"Of course there'll be sprinkles."


It'd been a long, long marathon of six days. Laura remained almost inhumanly strong, somehow managing to keep herself from falling apart while her husband and daughter seemed to be. Until the unbearably bright morning when Clint flatlined for the fifth time and she found herself throwing up violently in the hospital's toilet, barely able to hold back a panic attack. She was exhausted, stressed out and terrified out of her mind.

Natasha finally intervened when she'd been staring at the line pronouncing Clint's heartbeat for a solid hour, barely daring to blink. "Go home, Laura", the redhead commanded in a voice that left no room for objections. "I get it, I do. But you're no help for him if you keep going like this. Take a break. Just a few hours."

Laura swallowed. Her eyes strayed towards her unconscious husband. It was eerie how at peace he looked. "What about…?"

"Coulson will keep watch." Very clearly Natasha wasn't fully comfortable with that thought. But now wasn't the time to nurse hurt feelings. "Lila's appointment with Dr. Tulsa is almost over. Coop's there waiting. I'll take you guys home."

Leaving Clint was every bit as hard as it always was. She placed a tender, pleading kiss to his unnaturally warm forehead. Then followed Natasha out quickly, not daring to look back in fear of what it might do to her resolve.

After far too many sleepless nights Laura felt like she'd been sleepwalking as they got the kids. The nurse who'd been keeping an eye on Cooper gave them a sympathetic look she barely noticed. As soon as Lila walked out of the doctor's office the little girl catapulted herself into her mom's arms, trembling uncontrollably. The look on the therapist's face told exactly how the session went.

The fresh air filling their lungs as they made it outside did them all a world of good. Lila started chatting and even Cooper relaxed a little as the two bombarded Natasha with questions of some mission. Laura followed the tale until something caught her attention.

A bird lay on the asphalt, apparently having died of a broken neck. Most likely as a result of a collision with a car. Gone in a blink of an eye. The poor thing never suspected a thing.

Laura didn't notice that she started hyperventilating. Nor did she hear Natasha calling out to her. As soon as the redhead had ushered the kids into a car the woman approached. Laura still didn't notice.

"Laura?" Natasha's voice seemed to come through a fog. "Laura, you're close to having a panic attack. What's wrong?"

Laura didn't know what happened. It was like a switch had been flicked. For the first time since finding out that her daughter and husband had been taken she began to cry openly, and didn't know if the tears would ever stop.


Clint woke up the grand total of five times. Almost, anyway. It felt more like a never-ending nightmare.

He heard Lila calling out to him. Begging him to wake up. And he wanted to, so badly that it hurt, broke his heart. But the pull of the dark was stronger.

Then he heard Phil's voice, somewhere in the distance. Was it real? Was he dying? He faded away again without getting an answer.

The third time he heard medical personnel. They talked about him like he was a part of the hospital equipment. Contemplated his chances. In the end they decided that it was highly unlikely that he'd survive the next couple of days. Clint wanted to prove them wrong, far too stubborn to go down. But then hellish agony, such that burned, went through all of him and dragged him away. Perhaps for good.

But oh no, he wasn't dead yet. The next voice he heard was Laura's. He couldn't quite comprehend the words but her tone soothed him, made him feel like he was home. The kiss she gave him lulled him to sleep.

The fifth time he woke up the only sound he heard was an absolutely infuriating beeping. He groaned and wiggled, instinctively trying to get away from the source of discomfort. Big mistake. White, hot pain ravished all of him and he groaned again, louder this time.

"Clint?"

He knew that voice. That impossible voice. The beeping intensified as he fought a Herculean battle, finally managing to crack his eyes partially open.

After what felt like half a decade his vision cleared enough to reveal the pale, tense face of Phil Coulson.


TBC


A/N: (drum roll) SO… We're reaching a fairly interesting part of the story… Clint's waking up. How is he going to react to Phil? How is this whole mess going to end?

SOOOOOOOOOOOO… Any good – at all? PLEASE, do leave a note to let me know! Hearing from you makes me happier than you could ever imagine, sooooo… (insert puppy dog eyes)

Until next time! I really hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!


Guest: GOSH! (BEAMS, and bows, humbled) I'm SUPER happy that you've enjoyed the ride thus far so much! Poor… EVERYONE. (winces) Let's hope that they'll all come out of this at least somewhat okay.

Massive thank yous for the review!