Loss and Hope
Chapter 7
Disclaimer: See first chapter

A/N: sorry it took so long, work and school took over my focus, hope you enjoy-Montez

A couple hours had passed since Phil'd finally found Clint, broken…both physically, but possibly emotionally as well. Over the years their friendship had grown into something more than even Coulson could have ever imagined. The older man had never married, years before he had resigned himself to the cause he worked for and knew a family would not have fit into the equation. All that changed that night in South Carolina and in the passing years the paternal feelings toward one smart-assed, cocky, desperately needing to be saved young man had given Phil the feeling of what it must be like to be a father. He died a little every single time Clint had been hurt, his heart would pound nearly out of his chest when comm's would be silent just a little longer than he thought they should be and he felt proud when the kid completed a successful mission and came back in one piece. But now, now with all that had happened he felt his own world slowly collapsing in on him, Clint, his Clint believed him dead and from what he could see by looking and from what the doctor had told him, but more importantly from knowing how the kid thinks, how he feels things…Phil felt he was slowly watching his son slip away from him.

Coulson had taken up a seat next the bed, George had stepped into the hall giving the man some time, relieved that 'Phil' had finally shown up. He was curious about the two men, what their relationship really was, but mostly he was just glad the young man he'd picked up finally had someone with him who knew him, who really cared about him. The red-haired woman that had arrived with the older man had come out of the room shortly after George left, she was immediately on the phone, her voice tense, her body appearing weary.

Several minutes passed before the young woman approached him, "Thank you." Natasha said softly as she sat down next to the older man.

"For what?" George had been told by other's at the hospital he had done something most people wouldn't have, he had worried about a stranger enough to stay around, but George just felt it was something any decent person would do, especially a parent.

"You found him…you got him help…" Natasha was still dealing with her emotions, still trying to regain her famous control. "for caring. We thought we lost him, you gave him back to us."

George had taken notice that the two people who arrived, though not dressed exactly like the young man he'd picked up, both had a look almost military and the young woman, at least, appeared to be constantly on alert, despite her weary appearance. Knowing if that was the case his next question would not be answered, but he needed to try and figure out what happened, "Do you know what happened to him?"

He could see the younger woman pale slightly, he could see what happened play across her face before she appeared to regain some control, "I do, however I am not allowed to discuss it. I can say I never realized how injured he was, I knew he was hurt, but he…"

"Tries to hide it." George completed the statement.

Natasha nodded.

"Do you know why he doesn't seem to want to fight to survive?" George knew he was entering territory that at the best of time people didn't want to discuss, and for him to be asking this about a young man he really didn't know.

Romanoff sat quietly for a moment, her eye's going back to the closed door, her mind replaying everything that had happened over the past several day. She closed her eyes, the man beside her was nobody, he was a normal person, with normal issues, but had done something extraordinary, he had cared about someone he did not know, he had cared for Clint when he needed someone to care for him. So feeling this alone deserved him some type of answer, she looked at him and decided the truth was the best course, "He thought Phil was dead, and…he doesn't want to live with that prospect and if we can't figure out a way for him to understand…then he won't survive."

Several minutes passed in silence before an alarm sounded and Phil's voice yelled from the room "Romanoff!".

Natasha was at the door before her name faded, George right behind as he heard a nurse rushing down the hall. The scene that greeted them was terrifying, Clint's body was arching in the bed, his whole body was convulsing in uncontrolled spasms as Phil was trying to keep the young man from actually falling from the bed. The nurse hit the button on the wall, sending out a call for assistance as another nurse and doctor rushed into the room. Natasha was frozen in place as the doctor attempted to move Phil, "Sir I need you to move now!"

"I'm not leaving him." Phil yelled in his fear, not realizing he needed to let the doctor next to Clint. Then attesting to the state of mind Phil was in and the fact his own body had been slowing down, he felt two arms grab him and he didn't react as he normally would have, as his training would have dictated him to, and he allowed himself to be pulled back.

"They need to take care of him," It was a vaguely familiar male voice that pulled his attention for just a moment as he realized the older man that had been in the room with Clint was the one now pulling him out of the doctors way.

The three people stood near the wall as the doctor shouted orders in an attempt to combat the seizure that had overtaken Barton's body, it seemed to go on forever in the minds of those who were watching, but as suddenly as it began, it ended as another high-pitched tone filled the room, "I need the crash cart, he's coding!" the doctor yelled as he started compressions on Clint's now still chest.

000000000000

Six hours, it had only been six hours since Clint had been located and Phil had finally gotten to his side. Six hours of watching the young man fight a losing battle, a battle the archer didn't even seem to want to fight. If not for a total stranger Barton's body would have most likely been found along a roadside in Pennsylvania, if not for that stranger they would not have been given the time needed to find the broken man that never viewed himself as worth as much as others, but to Phil he was everything and it was painfully apparent that Phil was everything to Barton.

A little over two hours ago the beginning of what appeared to be the end was set into motion with the seizure that overtook Clint's battered and broken body, a seizure caused by a combination of fever and intracranial pressure, a seizure that had finally pushed the injured man into a deep coma that the doctor at the hospital in Ohio did not believe the young man would come out of.

Now as the transport plane touched down at the SHIELD base outside DC, Phil was bringing Clint home. Home to be treated by SHIELD doctors, and by all accounts, home to die. Machines breathed for the young man, monitors showed his slowed heart rate, his brain activity. Phil'd sat next to the bed containing his agent, his friend, his son and felt a weariness like he'd never known. His own body had been running on adrenaline and need, the need to find Clint and now…now he wasn't even sure how his body was suppose to feel after being resurrected by still mysterious means. All he knew was his mind had replayed the last several years, the good and the bad. He hoped down-deep inside that Clint, his Clint, could still possibly pull one his magical 'I survived' moments that had allowed the young man to survive more shit than anyone Phil had ever met, but this time was different. All those other times Barton had always known Phil would come for him, would find him, but this time he didn't know that Phil was alive, that Phil had found him, that Phil had came and that knowing was what was going to make all the difference and the outcome was not something Coulson was wanting to think about even though it was literally staring him in the face.

Upon approach Natasha had informed him that Fury and the rest of the Avengers were meeting them upon landing, but the older man couldn't bring himself to care. She had watched him closely, even as she had forcibly started locking her own emotions of the situation away, Phil needed her now and she would not let her feelings keep her from helping him through whatever was about to happen. She had noticed how tired he appeared, how his body was slowing down, his features appeared drawn and far more pale than an upright persons normally were, so she had remained close, but he didn't appear to notice. Since the seizure and her calling in a medical transport team Phil's attention had not left Clint's still form, almost as if the older man thought looking away would allow his counterpart to slip away from him, never to return.

The plane taxied to a stop, the transport crew moved into position to unload Barton and move him to the base infirmary. Natasha came to stand next to Phil as the ramp was lowered, she saw Fury, Stark, Rogers, and Banner waiting, she could only assume Thor was still dealing with his brother.

When they got to the bottom of the ramp the other's stepped up, Phil's step hesitating as he wanted to stay with Clint, but was effectively blocked by Fury. "Agent Coulson, we received the reports from the hospital and have been monitoring Agent Barton during transport…" Fury hated sounding so official, his voice softening just a fraction, only noticeable by those that really knew him, "Phil, I'm sorry."

Coulson brought his hand up covering his eye's, he didn't want sympathies he wanted Clint back, he needed Clint back. His head was pounding, his body was beyond exhausted, he felt nauseous and his chest felt tight…he took a couple deep-breaths, tried to school his feelings, his emotions that had been filling him since he had woken up, God how long ago was that, a day or two, and realizing Clint wasn't there and no one knew where he was and that he believed Phil dead. It was with all those thoughts, all those feeling seeming to pulse through his body that he finally looked up, meeting Fury's and the rest of the Avenger's gazes, then he looked at Natasha and finally the door that Clint had been wheeled through before his eye's rolled back, only Fury's and Romanoff's quick hands keeping his unconscious body from hitting the hanger floor.

A/N2: Okay, I'll give it some time and come out of hiding when it's safe...is it safe?
I need a little help, I am slightly blocked, I have an idea but am not sure how to go forward. My idea (as if you couldn't figure it out) is to create a dreamscape type setting for my next chapter, but I'm not 100% on how to set it. So I am open to suggestions. It may take a couple weeks to work out the next chapter, hopefully I won't take as long to post, top priority is school right now (now I know why college is for the young) and I'm going to try to work writing in when I have the time-thanks for your patience and support-Montez