Shoutouts to Guest and MillyWidow for reviewing!

I didn't know I was going to write another chapter so quickly, but it just kind of happened? I don't really know what else to say, but if you're still reading, thank you for sticking around.

As always, enjoy! =)

Chapter 8

Natasha could have been accused of keeping a secret from Clint. As spies, keeping secrets was something they were supposed to do-something that was expected. Their lives depended on secrets and classified information, which she never forgot. There were things she wasn't able to share with Clint, just as she knew there were things he couldn't share with her. Despite their closeness, they never harbored resentment over it because secrets were what could save or kill someone, whether it was each other, another agent, or an unknowing civilian. So when she'd started keeping tabs on Coulson's whereabouts after finding out he was actually alive, she unconsciously held that little bit to herself.

Finding Coulson had been easy. Maria Hill had also owed Natasha a couple favors, and after a pinky swear to stay away from Coulson and his team so as to not interrupt the team's flow, Natasha learned his location. After that, she had continued to stay watchful of where they went and what they did. Maria never straight out told Natasha to stop, but Natasha knew that her friend didn't approve.

"I made a promise," Natasha said, attempting to reassure Maria. "I'm not going to break it. And it would be even worse if I broke it because it was a pinky swear."

"I said nothing," Maria replied in that way she had where she could say everything she needed to say in just a handful of words. Natasha stopped making comments to her on Coulson's whereabouts, but she continued to keep track of him nonetheless.

She didn't know when she made the conscious decision to exclude Clint from her tracking scheme. One day, she was casually checking in on where Coulson had recently landed, and Clint walked in. She had shut her screen down so quickly that Clint didn't even have time to notice she'd done so. Part of her felt guilty for not saying anything, but Coulson's "death" had affected Clint in a deeply personal way that was different from how it had affected her.

Even though Coulson had been her handler for years, he'd been Clint's for even longer. He'd been Clint's friend, someone whom Clint trusted and believed in. In a way, Coulson had served as a kind of father figure for Clint, and when he had died, Natasha had been the one to hold Clint as he grieved. She had held Clint through his nightmares after Loki's mind control, and she had held him through his grief. She, too, had grieved for Coulson, but she had always known that she could never understand what he'd been for Clint.

And so Natasha stayed quiet, and she kept her tiny secret to herself. She kept an eye on Coulson and even read up on the team he'd put together both before and after HYDRA's reveal. She learned who each member was and what their strengths and weaknesses were, wracking her memory to see if she recalled interacting with any of them before they'd landed on her radar. Melinda May, of course, she'd known well for years, far before The Cavalry title had staked itself in Melinda's mythos. Natasha had never referred to Melinda by the distasteful moniker, knowing it brought forth memories that pained Melinda as much as Natasha's bloody past pained her, and she'd continued to hang out with her even after the older agent left the field and entered the office. Then Natasha got busy with the Avengers, and it was harder to meet up, and Melinda joined Coulson's team, though she'd said she was going back into the field and left it at that. All that time, and Natasha had had no idea. Secrets. Always secrets.

"How long have you known?" Clint asked finally. He dropped his bag in the dark hallway of the isolated safehouse they'd decided to take shelter in for the rest of the night. Felix Palmer, Clint's former partner and steady friend, had bought the safehouse after SHIELD had fallen and his wife had been revealed as a HYDRA agent. He'd never registered it and had no plans to, which was how Natasha and Clint ended up seeking a couple hours of rest there on their way to Coulson's latest location.

"Not too long," Natasha replied without meeting his eyes.

"How long?" he repeated, his voice even and clear.

She sighed and set her bag down beside his. She knew what the tone of his voice meant, and she wasn't looking forward to the conversation he clearly intended on having tonight. "About a year."

Clint stood completely still, not moving and hardly seeming to breathe. Natasha was reminded of how he was during a mission when he was about to take a shot that would have been impossible for anyone else. She had always loved his stillness, his ability to wait and be endlessly patient, but she felt unnerved by it just then.

"When were you going to tell me?" he asked.

"I wasn't." She wanted to look him in the eye, but she couldn't. She'd figured that he would be mad whenever he found out, but she hadn't expected to feel shame. Yet shame and a tinge of regret leaked into her chest without warning, and she just couldn't make herself look at him.

"Why?"

"The time never seemed right. We found out when our entire world was pulled out from beneath us, Clint. Everything was exposed to the world. You were there. You saw how we'd been compromised to the entire universe, so building our safety back was our number one priority," she said evenly. She sounded rational, but even she could hear in her own voice that she was trying to convince herself of what she was saying just as much as she was trying to convince Clint.

Quietly, he let out slow breath through his nose and put his hands on his hips. "But you somehow found the right time to go looking for him."

"I did."

"But the right time to tell me you knew where he was just...never came up."

"Right," she murmured.

Suddenly, Clint flipped the light switch, and light engulfed the small hallway, surrounding them and leaving Natasha feeling exposed. "You know I can't hear you when you mumble."

"Right," she repeated, forcing herself to look up and meet his gaze. And when she did, she felt a whole new swell of shame choke her breath out. Anger, she could have handled. Natasha was familiar with anger and knowing how to let it roll past her. For years, she'd thrived on anger and been the target of it from the Red Room to thwarted assassins to a Nick Fury whose orders had been disobeyed. But the hurt, disappointed look on Clint's face? That, she could not handle.

She blinked several times, trying to compose herself. "I didn't keep it a secret to hurt you. I saw how his death affected you, and I thought that knowing might open up some healed wounds for you."

"Maybe. But you couldn't have told me and let me make the decision whether or not I wanted to know, too?" His eyebrows drew together in a genuinely troubled frown that made Natasha feel even worse. "Jesus, Nat."

"I'm sorry." She swallowed hard and took a step toward him. "Really. I'm so sorry, Clint. I thought I was protecting you."

He waved a hand as if to dismiss her. "It's...don't worry about it. It's fine."

"It's not," she protested, reaching tentatively for his hand. For a moment, he stared at her hand without making a move, and Natasha was hit by the thought that he might actually turn the touch down, but then he closed the distance between them and took her hand in his. "I'm really sorry."

"No, I...it's not like I couldn't have looked into it myself. How did you do it?"

"Called in one of my favors with Hill."

"Mm," he replies, thoughtful as he stands without looking at her. "Yeah. I always could've done the same, and I didn't. It's just a shock."

"Melinda May is on the team," Natasha offers and gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "I wasn't surprised to find that part out. She and Coulson have always had a good rapport."

"May's on it? Huh. That doesn't surprise me, either. Anyone else we know?"

Natasha shook her head, her mouth set in a grim line. "Not really. Names I'm familiar with and probably know in passing but no other friends. Well, Bobbi was on it for a little while, and it's unclear as to whether or not she still is."

"Bobbi?" Clint asked, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. "I thought she was undercover for HYDRA."

"That's a long story, apparently."

"Huh." Clint's mind tumbled with all the conflicting thoughts and feelings darting throughout him, and he gently tugged on Natasha's hand to pull her a little closer. "What's the plan?"

"We show up and ask Coulson for access to one of his non-SHIELD registered planes."

"And you're sure he has a plane that isn't registered with SHIELD?"

"He was personally hit by HYDRA's infiltration on his team, someone he trusted. He'll have taken precautions since then in case there's another coup."

"We don't have a non-SHIELD registered plane," Clint pointed out, frowning.

"We're also Avengers and have more eyes on us these days. Coulson's pretty much left alone to do what he needs to do with his team. He may report to the higher ups with what they're doing, but he's not monitored the way we are. The world's watching us more than usual. After Sokovia...we left a country in ruins. They're going to wait for what we do next." Natasha changed the position of her hand so she could lace her fingers through with his. "I mean, we could've asked Tony for a plane, but he's got even more people waiting for him to drop the ball."

"Well, Ultron was his creation." Clint winced a little at the thought.

"He was trying to do the right thing. But the point isn't Ultron and Tony. The point is that Coulson's going to have taken precautions after HYDRA, and he's the best one to contact for an untraceable plane."

"You sound really sure that he has one."

A mildly mischievous smile passes over Natasha's lips. "I may have a reason to be sure."

"More super secret spy things you've been up to?"

"Yeah." She squeezed his hand, her expression becoming serious once again. "Clint. I really am sorry for not telling you. You deserved to know what I was doing."

"If you apologize again, I'm going to request a new partner."

"Ok, old man."

"Let's get a couple hours of sleep, and then we'll see about you getting that new partner, deadly girl."

They picked up their bags and went in search of a bedroom in Palmer's safehouse, Natasha's stomach turning the whole time. Clint didn't want her to apologize anymore, but she genuinely couldn't shake the guilt. He had reacted with far more grace than she would have had the roles been reversed, and that knowledge made her feel even guiltier.

I'm sorry, she was dying to tell him.

I messed up, she thought.

I'm sorry I let you down, she forced herself not to say.

After their few hours of sleep, they were electric with nervous energy. Anxiety lay thick between the two of them, both assassins wondering what was going to happen when they saw Coulson again. Seeing Coulson again would be harder for Clint-that went without saying, and Natasha had to keep herself from getting lost in her own emotions so that she could be there for Clint. For once, Clint had nothing to say. He was mostly silent as they got ready, quickly scarfing down some coffee and a bagel, and he didn't say anything when they got into the car.

Natasha scanned their surroundings as Clint got the car started, and she put the coordinates of Coulson's location in their encrypted GPS to lead the way. Clint turned some music on, but he wasn't focusing on it. He had that look he always got when he was so busy hyperfocusing on one thing that he missed nearly everything else. With his training and his skills, he rarely got like this. His job and his life required that he remain aware of everything around him all the time in order to eliminate the threats, but every now and then, he fell into an archer's pattern of focusing so hard on the target that he lost everything else.

The drive wasn't terribly long. Natasha was grateful that Palmer's safehouse had been on the way, even if neither she nor Clint had been able to get much rest. Keeping herself from glancing over at him repeatedly was harder than it sounded, especially since all she wanted to do was check on him and see how he was doing. If she did it too much, he'd get annoyed, and the last thing they needed was him seeing Coulson again for the first time in years while in a bad mood.

Their ride was tense and quiet, and it didn't take too long until they were pulling down a long, wooded driveway. Gravel crackled beneath the tires, and Natasha inwardly cringed with every single sound it made. Out of the corner of her eye, she sneaked a quick peek at Clint, whose face was now impossible to read. He'd reverted into pure mission mode, and she couldn't tell whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, a large building without windows loomed in front of them, and the driveway came to an end right at the bottom of its front stairs.

"This it?" Clint asked, pulling to a stop at the end of the driveway. His first vocalization in probably an hour.

"Yeah. Be prepared, they probably don't know we're not here to attack them. We probably triggered all kinds of security traps on the way in."

"I figured."

Natasha waited for him to say anything else, but he didn't. He just sat there with his unnerving gaze directed at the building.

"You ok?" she asked.

"As ok as anyone can be in this situation," he tersely replied. Natasha waited in silence for a few more moments, and then he let out a frustrated sigh. "Come on. Let's get it over with. The sooner we get a plane, the sooner we can hunt your ghosts."

"You're sure you're ok?"

He shot her a look that wasn't fully annoyed but wasn't not full of complete irritation. "I should be asking you that. Have you been having any headaches? Any visions?"

"You would know if I were."

"Mm. Well, then. I guess for now, we're both ok."

Natasha was about to reply when the door to the building swung open, and a figure stood shadowed by the doorframe. Her Glock was strapped to her thigh in its usual holster, and her hands twitched as she fought to keep from instinctively reaching for it. These were SHIELD agents, not threats. She kept her eyes on the figure's form and started slowly moving to get out of the car, letting whoever was there see what she was planning on doing.

She opened the door and heard Clint open his side. The figure shifted their weight and then moved forward into the light. Natasha's heart leapt, and for a moment, she had a terrible vision of the worst case scenario unfolding: a violent shootout, a trigger happy rookie, a HYDRA agent in disguise. And then the figure was lit by the morning sun, and Natasha barked out a loud laugh.

"Surprise. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me for a while, huh?" she called out.

Melinda May's smile betrayed the stern demeanor of her folded arms and defensive stance. "You are the last two people I thought I'd see show up here."

"Well, technically, we're not here." Natasha's smile went from genuinely pleased to see Melinda to wry. "And we were never here at all."

Melinda's cool gaze took in the both of them, and she remained silent for a moment as she appraised the both of them. "Avengers business?"

"The less you know the better." Natasha looked over at Clint, but he didn't say anything to back her up. "But we're here to see Coulson."

"Coulson?" May lifted her eyebrows. "When'd you find out?"

"Not too long ago. It's been a while since we've seen him, and we need to cash in a couple favors."

Melinda nodded and gestured with her head for them to follow her. "He's a different person now. He's...been through a lot."

"We all have," Clint said, breaking his silence.

"Nice to see you, Hawkeye."

"You, too, May." He shot her a tight smile that radiated anxiety. Natasha longed to reach out and grab his hand, but she didn't. Instead, she followed Melinda into the building and walked with her down the hall.

"So what's this place?" Natasha asked.

May's eyes cut over to her, and her lips twitched into a smile. "The less you know the better."

"Touche. Where's the rest of the team?"

"A couple are out right now, but we've got some in the lab downstairs. Coulson's in what we're calling his office but is anything but."

"Sounds about right when it comes to setting up camp out in the field," Clint quipped.

"Exactly. For now, it's home while we work the case we're on, but then it's on to the next place."

Natasha let out a short laugh and shook her head. "God knows we relate to that."

"Well, it's probably been a while for you since you've experienced it like this." Looking over her shoulder, May offered Natasha another small smile. "You're really in the big leagues now."

"That's not always a good thing," Natasha replied with a wince. Images of Sokovia trickled back into her mind, and she cleared her throat, pushing them away. "The Avengers aren't the most popular people right now."

"Public response seems to be split in half," Melinda pointed out. "But it's hard to hear the good comments when the only ones that stick with you are the bad ones."

"Right," Clint muttered under his breath. "Everyone tweeting about all the lives we didn't save, all the people who died because of us, the whole nine yards. It's not great."

"We've been trained to be invisible for so long, and now we're just out in the open," Natasha added. May didn't reply, and Natasha couldn't tell if her silence was because she agreed or disagreed with what they'd said. As she tried to think of something else to say, May slowed down in the hall and nodded toward a closed door.

"Here you go," she said.

"Thank you." Natasha smiled at Melinda with genuine warmth. "It's been good to see you again."

"Actually, you didn't see me," May countered. "You were never here."

Before either of them could reply, May knocked on the door and then walked away down the hall, leaving the two spies to face Coulson by themselves. Natasha struggled to move past what Melinda had said about them being in the big leagues now. Was that what their former co-workers thought of them? Did they see Clint and Natasha's involvement with the Avengers as them moving on from SHIELD? The thing was, neither she nor Clint had chosen to be an Avenger. They'd stumbled into it as plainly as they'd stumbled into each other's lives. Clint had happened to be the one brainwashed by Loki, and of course, Natasha had been called in to bring him back. They'd just happened to be in New York because of their circumstances. And yet, they were Avengers. They were the original team and the ones who were recognized along with Iron Man, Captain America, and the Hulk.

"Come in," a familiar voice called from behind the door, bringing Natasha back to the present. She looked over at Clint, and he met her eyes. Silently asking if he was ready, she lifted her eyebrows in question, and he nodded. Tension roped along his neck and his jaw, but he gave her the ok, and she opened the door.

Inside, Coulson was seated behind a small, shabby little desk that looked like something the interns had gotten at SHIELD back when SHIELD had been taking interns. He was sitting, leaned back in the small wooden chair he had behind the desk, and he blew out a slow breath.

"Well, shit," he said simply.

Clint and Natasha walked into the room he was using as an office, and neither of them could speak. Emotion crashed through her like an onslaught, causing her chest to tighten and her breathing to grow shallow. The last time she'd seen Phil Coulson had been in New York. Loki had been in their custody on the helicarrier, and he'd been her handler. Years of memories existed between them, but even so, she knew that what she was feeling was nothing compared to Clint.

"Well, shit, indeed," she said, her voice even as she held Coulson's gaze.

"I guess I have some explaining to do." The older man offered up a sheepish smile. "When May alerted me that you two were spotted coming down the driveway, I almost didn't believe it. You weren't supposed to know I'm not dead, but then HYDRA ruined that. Then you weren't supposed to know where I am."

"Was there ever going to be a time when we'd find out?" Clint interjected. In the time it had taken him to come into the room from the hallway, he had managed to relax his shoulders and ease his facial expression. Anyone else who saw him would have thought that he wasn't stressed out at all, but Natasha knew him well enough to know that he was forcing an act.

"At some point. It needed to be the right time, though."

"What about now?" Clint pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Coulson's light eyes darted back to Natasha. "I don't think I'm going to get off the hook very easily."

Clint scoffed and walked to one of the chairs sitting opposite Coulson's desk. As if he were in Coulson's office at Shield headquarters, as if no time at all had passed, he dropped down into the chair and lazily slumped down the way he did every time he sat. "Is that what you think?"

"I had my orders. You know what it's like to have orders and to follow them. Fury didn't want you to know, and I've been busy since then."

Natasha lifted her eyebrows. "Busy?"

Again, Coulson looked sheepish, and he shrugged. "Maybe not quite as busy as two Avengers, but I've had my hands full with my team. Nice work, by the way. I've been watching your careers. The Avengers are lucky to have you."

"Why didn't Fury want us to know?" Clint changed the course of the conversation. "That doesn't seem like something he'd want to keep a secret."

"It's Fury, Clint. He's full of secrets, and honestly, I don't know why he didn't want you to know. Maybe he thought you'd want to come back to doing regular SHIELD work when he knew he'd need you doing Avengers things. Maybe he thought it would be a distraction. I don't know."

"We had a funeral for you and everything," Natasha added, crossing to the other chair that was beside Clint, and she sat down. Folding her arms over her chest, she stared at the man she'd trusted and mourned, and she took a breath. "Hundreds of agents turned out for it."

"So I heard." A grimace passed over Coulson's face, and he turned his steady gaze back to Clint, who was still sitting with his typical lazy slump. "Did you give Fury this guilt trip when you found out he wasn't really dead?"

"That was different," Clint was quick to point out. "Besides, I wasn't even there for it. Nat was the one who saw it all. Ask her."

"Fury's fake death made sense for the situation. Yours...I'm still trying to figure out." The corner of Natasha's mouth twisted to the side.

"Are you angry?" Coulson asked.

"Yes and no."

Clint sighed and then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, head turned down so he was looking at the floor. "I don't know what to think."

"I understand." Suddenly, Coulson stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk. Clint's head lifted, and he watched his former handler sit on the edge of the small, worn desk that was colorless with age. "You have every right to be angry. This job isn't fair. It never has been with what it requires from us."

"I know. Secrets." Bitterness laced Clint's voice, but his face gave nothing away. Coulson tried to smile, but it didn't quite land the way he wanted it to.

"Secrets," he agreed. "That's all we've really got left, huh?"

"So you are angry."

Clint laughed and shook his head, not meeting Coulson's eyes. "I don't know what I am, Coulson. I thought you were dead. Just found out yesterday where you've been. Turns out Nat's been keeping tabs on you for the past year."

"Is that so?" Genuine curiosity resounded in Coulson's voice. "You knew?"

"I was owed a couple favors, so I cashed them in," Natasha admitted.

Coulson paused thoughtfully, his gaze growing distant as he seemed to retreat into his brain. "Was it Hill?"

"Speaking of cashing in favors," Natasha said. She completely ignored what he had asked, though by not confirming or denying it, she knew she gave him the answer. "The time has come for me to cash in the one you owe me for Dublin."

"Really? You're still holding that to me?" Coulson asked. Natasha didn't reply, and he shrugged, conceding the question. "Ok, that's fair. I suppose I do still owe you for Dublin. What do you need?"

"An unregistered plane. One that SHIELD and the Avengers don't know about."

"Who says I have anything like that?"

Clint laughed roughly and gestured toward Coulson with his hand while looking over at Natasha, his expression rueful. "May really wasn't kidding. He's changed."

"It took me a long time to track it back to you, but I know you purchased a plane shortly after HYDRA was exposed. It's never been registered, so there's no way SHIELD knows about it."

"But you know about it," Coulson pointed out.

"I'm not Felix Palmer when it comes to technology, but I know my way around hacking better than 90% of agents currently working." Natasha wasn't bragging, just being honest, and she said it with such honesty that no one could even accuse her of being arrogant about it.

"Why do you want my plane?"

"What was it you just said about our line of work and what it requires from us? Secrets?"

"Something like that."

"Then there you go. Your plane will be safely returned to you as soon as we're done with it, and as for the record, we were never here."

"Natasha…" Coulson sighed heavily and ran both hands over his face. "You run a tough bargain."

"I'm serious."

"I know you are." He sighed again and pushed himself off from the desk. "Is this how I'm going to make it up to you for not telling you I'm alive?"

Clint snorted. "Hell, no. You're following through on a favor you already owed Natasha. The making it up part has yet to come."

"What would you have done if you were in my situation? What if Fury wanted you to keep your fake death a secret from me? Would you have followed his orders, or would you have broken them and let me know, anyway?" Coulson asked suddenly. "Real question. What would you have done?"

"I've never been great at following orders. You know that," Clint replied. "That's how Nat got brought into SHIELD in the first place. I've always been shit at doing what I'm supposed to."

"Not always." Coulson shook his head, and his face softened. "You were one of the best agents I'd ever worked with, Clint. There was a reason why I never requested a transfer to handle other agents' cases."

A brief period of silence passed between all three people, and Natasha worried about what Clint would do next. Undeniably, he was emotional and had been battling with those emotions since he had found out that they were going to go see Coulson in person. She reminded herself that she couldn't understand the feelings he was experiencing because she didn't have the same kind of history with Coulson. She had asked Clint just the night before if he ever wondered what his life would have been like if he hadn't defected to SHIELD, and she realized that Clint never would have even been given the choice to join SHIELD if it hadn't been for Phil Coulson. Phil Coulson had seen something in Clint that Clint had eventually seen in her, and she was hit with the epiphany that she wouldn't be sitting here with Clint if Coulson had never given him that chance.

She swallowed the small lump that had built up in her throat, suddenly overwhelmed, and she stood up. "Is there a bathroom nearby? It was a long drive."

Both Clint and Coulson stared at her with surprise. Finally, Coulson nodded in the direction of the door and gestured with his hand. "Turn right, and it's the second door on the right once you're out there."

"Right. Right. Thanks."

Before Clint or Coulson could say anything else, she was gone, and they were left alone. Clint took a slow, controlled breath and forced himself to look up into Coulson's face. For the first time since Loki, since New York, since the Avengers had first joined together, Clint was alone with the man who had rescued him all those years ago, and he had so much to say. He just didn't know where to start.