Author's Note: Hello! I'm so excited that we've finally made it here! Special shout outs to Katie MacAlpine; BlooAngels; and anaticulapraecantrix for taking the time to review the last chapter! It really means a lot to me and I appreciate the crap out of you three for being so consistent with your support of this story! You guys are awesome!

Okay, friends, brace yourselves for this chapter. You've been warned!

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SHOULDER TO CRY ON

"Heading out?"

Natasha glanced over at Steve who was sitting at the table in the designated kitchen area. The upper floors of Stark Tower were still under construction to fix the damage from the battle with the Chitauri. Stark had retrograded a few of the lower levels of the Tower to temporarily house the Avengers… or at least what was left of them. Thor had returned to Asgard with Loki just after the battle. And Clint… Clint had disappeared shortly after that. For the moment, the building was serving as a shelter for only Natasha, Steve and Bruce in addition to Stark and Pepper.

"Yeah," Natasha said. "Just going to get some air."

Steve nodded, but he had a knowing look in his eye. "Still looking for him?" The question was posed with a gentle sympathy.

"He'll show back up when he's ready," Natasha said, more out of habit than anything.

It had been three weeks since she had last heard from Clint. It wasn't the longest he had spent off the grid… but it was the longest he had gone without so much as dropping her a cryptic message to let her know that he was okay.

She was officially worried about him.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Steve asked, putting down the newspaper that he had been perusing – some habits die hard – and leaning forward in his seat.

"Thanks, but that's okay," Natasha said with a small appreciative smile.

It was a nice sentiment, but she knew that Clint was fragile right now, more fragile than she had ever seen him before. If she wanted a prayer of contact with him, she knew she had to go it alone.

Steve nodded solemnly. "I hope you find him."

"Me too," Natasha said quietly to herself as she headed out of the Tower.

The city was still a mess, but the people had come together to start to put the pieces back together. Natasha drove the car she borrowed from Stark carefully through the still battle torn streets of New York City. More than once she had to mount the curb to get around extra large debris or holes in the concrete. But she did all this automatically as she followed what was now a familiar and least obstructed route.

She made her way out of the city and as she left the destruction behind she felt as if she could breathe deeply again. The weight of the battle still hung heavily in the air within the city, a constant reminder of how close they had come to losing everything. The feeling of relief didn't last though. It was only a minor reprieve, which dissipated as she approached the cemetery.

They hadn't lost everything, but that didn't diminish the significance of what they did lose.

She parked the car on the side of the road and carefully climbed the fence into the graveyard. Something about walking through the front gate just didn't appeal to her. She felt more at ease under the radar, even when it was likely no one was even glancing at the radar right now. She was paranoid like that. But more importantly, so was Clint.

It was ironically peaceful as she made her way through the grass to the now familiar spot. The dew was just beginning to evaporate in the sunlight just peeking over the horizon, making the air smell clean and crisp. Birds were just starting to stir in the surrounding trees, humming sleepily in the morning light. It was a stark contrast to the gloomy mood that hung heavily over Natasha as she moved between the headstones.

Natasha settled herself under her usual tree that was set a strategic distance away from a certain fresh grave marker. It wasn't that she thought that Clint wouldn't see her if – when – he decided to show up. It was that she wanted to respect his space, knowing that his grief was a very personal thing. She would only be allowed in if invited and if she tried to crowd him it would only drive him away again. It was also the reason why she wasn't out scavenging the planet searching for her missing partner. He had run away from them – from her, a fact that despite everything still stung – for a reason and she was doing her best to respect that.

Though she was finally starting to wonder how much time was too much. Another week of radio silence and she wasn't so sure she'd be able to help herself anymore.

She had been coming here every day since the funeral, which Clint did not attend. That hadn't surprised her. Clint had taken the news hard; much harder than even she had anticipated. And she had anticipated a lot. Phil Coulson had recruited Clint into SHIELD with he was just eighteen-years-old and had been Clint's handler for over twelve years. During that time, the two had formed a brotherly bond, one that was incredibly important to Clint, especially after how he had been treated by his biological brother.

And Natasha was now very worried that losing Phil was going to be the final breaking point for Clint.

She did know one thing for sure though… if – when – he did finally come back, this would be his first stop. So, here she sat.

The majority of the day passed without incident, painfully like all the previous days she had spent here. In fact, the sun was dipping low in the sky and she was contemplating taking her leave when she spotted the figure. People had been in and out of the cemetery all day, but this figure, even before Natasha got a good look at him, she knew him immediately.

It was Clint.

She watched him shuffle carefully between the rows of gravestones, his head bowed and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His downward gaze flitted over the engraved names on each stone he passed. As he got closer, she could see that he hadn't shaved in several days and his shoulders were slumped as if he didn't have the energy to hold them up anymore.

Her heart ached at the sight of him.

Natasha slowly pushed herself up until she was standing at full height. Clint's eyes never went to her, but there was no doubt that he knew that she was there.

Finally, he arrived at the stone that Natasha knew to have Phil Coulson's name carved in it, one that she herself had spent many days studying. Everything about Clint stilled at the sight. To a passerby at a glance, he may have looked like just another stone statue overlooking the headstones in mourning.

He stayed frozen in place for several long minutes before he slowly lowered himself into a crouch in front of the stone. After settling himself on his haunches, he mechanically reached out one hand and placed his fingertips gingerly on top of the headstone almost as if it were a fragile thing that was likely to break. He stared down at the name of his oldest friend and brother in arms carved into that stone for a few long moments before he dropped his gaze and bowed his head.

He remained like that for a long time. The only evidence that time continued to pass was the sun sinking lower into the horizon.

At long last, Clint lifted his head and glanced at Natasha, shifting his head slightly to indicate that she could approach. Relief washed over her at the invitation as she carefully crossed the distance between them at a measured pace.

It was like a knife to the gut to see him like this, appearing so small and lost. Clint Barton had always been one of the strongest people that Natasha had ever met. He had rescued her from a life that had been killing her, had saved her in so many ways. And the fact that she couldn't save him from this was almost as painful as losing Phil, who had become as good as family to her as well over the years.

She was silent as she approached, and Clint made no effort to acknowledge her presence any further. She stood awkwardly above him for a moment, unsure what she should do. This was completely new territory for her.

Slowly, she crouched down next to him, mindful to not invade his personal space. Her eyes fell on the now familiar lettering stamped into the stone. God, it made it feel so real, made it hurt so much more.

And she knew that it was worse for Clint.

"I'm so sorry," she finally said quietly. The sentiment seemed wildly inadequate, but it was all that she had to offer him.

Clint's shoulders stiffened as his hand rolled into a fist on top of the grave marker.

"It should've been me." His voice was small and hoarse, cracking halfway through the statement.

"If it had been, then Phil would have been left to feel this pain," Natasha pointed out gently. "And it'd be him kneeling here, wishing to trade places with you." Clint's gaze stayed pinned on the headstone, no indication that he was actually listening to her. She sighed heavily. "Your life doesn't have to stop here. Phil wouldn't have wanted that. He would have wanted you to continue helping people, continue doing good in this world." She paused. "He was so damn proud of you, Clint."

Clint hung his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if he were in physical pain.

"This is my fault."

"No," Natasha said sharply, her heart twisting in her chest at the statement. "None of this was your fault, Clint. I stand by what I said before. This was monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for, remember? This was Loki. The fault is with him and no one else. Least of all, you."

She could sense that he was still too shell-shocked to really absorb what she was saying. But she vowed to remind him of that fact every single day until he finally believed her.

It was a long time before he spoke again.

"What if… what if I can't be who he wanted me to be without him here?" Clint mumbled almost as if he were speaking to himself.

Natasha took a risk, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Clint lifted his head and finally looked at her, a single tear streaking down his cheek, closely followed by another.

Never once in the over eight years that she had known him had she ever seen him even come close to crying. No more tears fell, but it still showed just how broken losing Phil had left him.

"Of course, you can be," Natasha assured him quietly. "All Phil's lessons, everything that he taught you, it doesn't all just disappear without him. He lives on through you, Clint."

Clint snorted at the admittedly cheesy sentiment, but there was just a glimpse of gratitude in his eyes.

"It's going to hurt Clint," she went on steadily, meeting his gaze. Because she knew exactly what he was doing when he had fled after finding out that Phil had died at Loki's hand. "But you have to let it hurt in order to get passed this. You can't just bury your emotions and hope it goes away, you have to deal with it."

Clint dropped his gaze and took in a shuddering breath. Natasha suddenly had doubt that any of her words were getting through to him at all. But then he reached out toward her, anchoring his free hand on her shoulder. Natasha's balance remained steady as she took on the extra weight of his grief. It was at that moment that a firm resolve took hold of her.

She would carry him through this.

After a minute of crouching there with one hand on her and one hand on Phil's headstone, Clint finally removed his hand from the stone as he turned toward her. Neither of them were much for physical affection, but it still felt natural for her to wrap an arm around him as he braced his forehead on her shoulder.

Natasha's gaze fell once again to the name on the headstone. I've got him, she silently promised to the stone that bore Phil Coulson's name. You can rest easy now. I've got him.

She couldn't protect Clint from this, but she would damn sure see him through it. It would be a long and trying journey for both of them as they faced down demons they had long forgotten or never even knew they had. But she was determined to bring them both out the other side. Because there was only one thing that was agonizingly certain after losing someone who meant so much to you.

Life marched on.

Author's Note: So there it is! That was a rough one to write. But it's time for Clint to move into the next section of his life as an Avenger. And before you ask, no, Phil will not be resurrected in this story. The idea that I could bring him back like they do on Agents of SHIELD actually didn't occur to me until I was doing my final proof of this chapter. But I may write a separate one shot of how that reunion would go someday!

Please don't forget to review and let me know what you think!

NEXT WEEK'S PROMPT
THREATS