The first time Clint sees Phil after Loki it takes a few seconds for his brain to register what his eyes are seeing. Clint's been following the same pattern for so long: drop into a room, search for evidence of Phil, climb back up and crawl to the next room. Wash, rinse, repeat. Because SHIELD has cameras in the hallways but not in the ceiling (and with Clint on the payroll they really should have known better) and Clint has always felt more at home from up high anyway. He stopped really expecting to find anything about a week ago - he'd been focused simply on fulfilling his self-imposed mission - and now that he's found Phil it doesn't seem real. It's like reaching the last step at the top of a really long staircase - the sudden completion of the task almost feels like a loss.
Phil is pale as the sheets he is resting on - his face thin and his eyes sunken and dull and he's the most beautiful thing Clint has ever seen. He's alive and he's awake and he's staring at Clint and Clint's frozen - he can't move, can't even breathe. Until Phil's lips move and Clint hears his own name in a broken, nearly inaudible whisper and then he's at Phil's side, fingers gripping the stiff white sheets and he doesn't even remember moving.
Phil's still staring at him and he looks so lost and confused Clint's heart breaks and he takes a deep, shaky breath and closes his eyes to stop the tears before he even realises what he's doing. And then Clint panics, because he's been looking for so long and no one else, not even Tasha, believed Phil could be alive and what if they were right, what if he's finally snapped, gone crazy, fallen apart and not even noticed and now he's hallucinating and it's not real. He'll open his eyes and there will be nothing there, just another empty room and it will breakhim, he knows it will.
So he simply stands there, eyes closed, fists clenched. He could stand here forever, Clint thinks, here in the darkness with nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat loud in his ears, drowning out all the sounds of the world and as long as he keeps his eyes closed the world is out there and in here - in here there is hope.
But then he feels just the lightest of touches on the back of his hand and his eyes fly open and Phil's still there, still real, and the confusion in his eyes is gone, replaced by hope and awe and joy. Clint turns his hand over, lacing his fingers together with Phil's the way they've done a thousand times before, holds on tight, and believes.
"They told me you were dead," he says, and it's part explanation, part apology for taking so long, part confession because Phil's always been the one to listen to Clint's hurt and broken pieces and blunt their edges with his very presence. "I didn't believe Fury but then Tasha said it was true and I couldn't . . . they wouldn't let me see a body and Fury lies and I've been looking but I didn't think . . ." and Clint swallows down the shame that threatens to take him over because Phil would never have given up on him, "I didn't think I'd really find you." But he has. Oh God, he has.
"Loki?" Phil asks, voice a little stronger but still rough and scratchy, probably from a breathing tube, and Clint pushes that thought away as soon as it comes because Phil's here and breathing just fine and asking about Loki of all things but Clint knew when he'd started with Phil he'd be getting Agent Coulson too.
"Gone," he answers, voice tight with anger at all Loki'd put them through. "Thor took him and the tesseract both back to Asgard," and good riddance, Clint thinks. "The Council's pissed but I think Fury's relieved he doesn't have to deal with it any more."
"How long?" Phil doesn't specify and doesn't need to because Clint's entire being has been the answer to that question, ticking off the days and hours and minutes as if nothing had existed before the moment Phil had been taken from him.
"Thirty-eight days," Clint answers without hesitation and there's a part of him that wonders what would have happened on day forty-seven and he's grateful he'll never have to know.
"Loki's army made a mess of parts of New York but there weren't as many casualties as we were afraid of," he continues, falling back into the comfortable familiarity of debriefing mode, and this wouldn't be the first time he'd given a report with one or the other of them in a hospital bed.
"The Avengers?" Phil asks, and Clint's surprised to realise he doesn't feel that little hint of jealousy at the mention of what has always been his main competition for Phil's attention. He knows them now, knows that they are worthy of the faith Phil has always had in them, and he's got Phil back now, it's enough, he can share.
"Everyone's fine. You were right about Stark, by the way," and hadn't that been a surprise. "The Council tried to nuke the city but Stark flew the bomb through the portal and almost didn't make it back. Thought we'd lost him there for a minute but he's a tough bastard and don't you dare tell him I said that." Because Tony would totally hold that comment over Clint's head for years if he ever heard.
"Natasha's off running something over in Europe with Sitwell," he continues, because Phil won't rest until he's heard about them all, "and Thor hasn't come back from Asgard yet, but Steve and Bruce didn't really have anywhere to go and I didn't want, couldn'tstay in the apartment," God, the apartment - Phil's apartment technically but they'd lived there together for two years and Clint could not have handled seeing all of Phil's stuff still where he left it, "so we're all staying in Stark Tower. It's kinda nice," he adds, because it is - Clint's not used to having friends, but that's what the other Avengers are quickly becoming. It's new territory for him, but he thinks it might be worth it.
Phil relaxes a little more with each bit of information Clint gives him - Clint knows he's filing it all away in that brilliantly efficient head of his, probably already formulating a dozen action items to increase team performance and coordination - he's got that sort of faraway look he gets when he's running scenarios in his head and it's such a very Phil look it makes Clint's heart beat just a little bit faster. And then Phil turns his focus on Clint again and there's so much love in his eyes that Clint's already racing heart skips a beat. Phil says his name again and Phil's voice is strong and sure, nothing like that first broken whisper, and Clint grins. But Phil's not smiling, and he seems to hesitate just a moment before he opens his mouth.
"You're . . . you," he says, and Clint's blood turns to ice in his veins. Because the last time Phil had seen him he'd been under Loki's control and he'd been so caught up in the joy of finding Phil again that somehow he'd forgotten.
Clint knows without asking that if it had been anyone other than Tasha who had found him during the helicarrier attack they would have shot to kill because that's protocol and it's a protocol Clint agrees with because when an agent is compromised to that extent their life isn't worth the lives of those they'd take down with them. And Phil would have known that, would have had to live with that knowledge and Clint drops his eyes to their clasped hands and wonders if he could have been half as strong as Phil if the tables had been turned.
"Yeah," Clint answers, because it's the only answer he has and he knows it's all there in his voice: the horror and the shame and the guilt and the fear and dear God the reliefthat it's over and his mind is his own again and it's a mercy Clint's not even sure he deserves but he can't help being grateful.
"Tasha hit me upside the head," he explains, answering the implicit 'how?' in Phil's statement and it was a statement and Clint knows he doesn't deserve that kind of faith but he'll take it anyway - he'll take Phil anyway because he's a selfish bastard at heart. "Stark called it 'cognitive reboot'" - leave it to Stark to come up with a computer metaphor - "and God, Phil I'm so sorry."
Clint's voice breaks and his breath is ragged and his head hurts from holding back the tears and it's not enough, Clint knows it's not enough, and he thinks about backing away, thinks about running because Clint's a coward and that's what he does, but before he can move Phil has tightened his hold on Clint's hand and pulled.
Clint had been ready for recriminations, he'd been ready to be pushed away but he hadn't been ready to be pulled forward so he stumbles and falls, half on Phil and half on the bed, barely holding himself up by his elbows so he doesn't injure Phil further and Phil's hands are holding him, forcing him face to face, not letting him look away and one of Phil's hands is tangled in his hair and the other is caressing his cheek, and Phil's looking at Clint like he loves him, looking at him like he's worth it.
"Not your fault," Phil says, kissing him softly as if Clint was something fragile and precious and he's heard it before, from his teammates, from Hill, from the shrinks but now he believes it, he has to, because Philsaid it and Clint has always trusted Phil's judgement over his own.
"Not your fault," Phil repeats, his voice shaky, "thought I'd lost you but you're here, and it's not your fault, none of it, it's Loki's fault and God I thought you were gone but you're here. You're here." And Clint realises that Phil is shaking, he's trembling and Clint holds him tighter and buries his face in Phil's neck and lets the tears come, because it's only just hit him that for Phil, Clint'sthe one who has just come back from the dead.
Clint doesn't know how long they stay that way, too overwhelmed to even think, but he does notice when Phil shifts slightly and tries to stifle a wince. Clint's moving in an instant, horrified, because he's hurt Phil enough for a dozen lifetimes, but before he can roll off the bed Phil's hand reaches out and grabs his shirt. He's not holding tightly but Clint can no more move than if he'd been gripped by iron.
Phil's eyes are as damp as his and there's pain in them but it's fading and there is something else there that Clint recognises because he knows the same must show in his own eyes - fear and loneliness and need.
"Stay," Phil says, and Clint wants to - he wants nothing more than to crawl into Phil's arms and hold him like he never thought he'd be able to do again but . . .
"Fury." Clint doesn't know why the Director has gone to so much trouble to hide Phil from him but he's afraid, afraid of what Fury might do if he finds out Clint was here - afraid Fury might make Phil disappear again.
"Fuck Fury," Phil says, and Clint's jaw drops, because that's Phil's dangerous voice, the one that says 'I'm going to make your life hell before I end it,' and Clint never thought he'd hear that voice directed at Fury. But Phil's eyes are bright with determination and with anger - anger on Clint's behalf, and it's not the first time he's seen it, but he's never quite gotten used to it. "Fury owes us." Phil says, and Clint can't argue with that one, and Phil's eyes are saying 'it's ok, trust me,' and Clint has never trusted anyone the way he trusts Phil, so he settles back down on the bed, careful not to jostle Phil too much.
Clint curls into Phil's side, settling his head on Phil's unbandaged shoulder and looping his arm around Phil's waist. Phil's chest rises and falls steadily with each breath and Phil's heart is strong beneath his ear and Clint can feel the weeks of sleepless nights start to catch up to him. And yeah, Fury will probably find them, but Clint trusts that Phil will take care of it and Clint's had this dream before but this time, he knows, Phil will be there when he wakes up to tell him that it's real.
