You Left (I Stayed)
by Cider Sky
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who followed, favorited and a special thanks to those who reviewed. Your feedback means more to me than I can say. I am sorry this is such an angst-train, but hey, not everything can be glitter and peaches.
Thank you for reading!
Part Three: To Those Who Wait
"Clint."
The voice pulls him out of his reverie and he blinks.
But reverie isn't the right word for it. He'd been flat out staring at the blank screen of the TV for … who knows how long.
He'd been doing that a lot lately.
"This came for you." Steve says, scrubbing a towel over his wet hair as he tosses a parcel into Clint's lap. Clint fixes him with a confused glance but the man just gives an unknowing shrug as he drops onto the opposite side of the couch Clint is occupying.
"This isn't mine." Clint mumbles turning the thing over in his hands and Steve can only cock a brow.
"Well, are you sure?" Steve leans over, his interest genuine and not at all sarcastic. "I could have misread it –"
The archer highly doubts the Captain could have misread it but Steve humors him and hell, if the man weren't a fucking saint.
Clint eyes the small brown package, somewhat baffled by it's presence. It's small, shaped like a lengthy book, or a large DVD set perhaps but beyond that, he has no idea what it could be.
He checks the label and sure enough it's addressed to him.
Ship TO: Clint Barton
1821 Front ST
BROOKLYN, NY, 11222
FORWARDED TO:
Stark Tower
2801 WEST 116th ST
NEW YORK, NY 10018
UPS NEXT DAY
"You don't remember ordering it?" Steve asks, gently, as he runs a hand through his still damp hair.
Clint furrows his brow. Next day. Unless he's experienced a serious lapse in his memory, he's fairly confident he hadn't ordered anything the day before. Hell, he hasn't bought anything for himself outside the stray arm-guard in years.
But here it is.
"No." Clint murmurs trying to ignore the fact that Steve may be on the verge of donning his kid-gloves.
He takes another moment to ponder where the hell it had come from, what it could be – he hadn't bought anything in weeks - before tearing it open.
A rectangular object cloaked in plastic falls into his lap and Clint tosses the cardboard packaging aside.
Clint's stomach drops, a terribly sinking feeling setting in as he remembers.
It was no secret that Phil Coulson was a bit of a nerd. The man adored everything related to superheroes – most notably Captain America but that was just common knowledge – and if it weren't for Clint's gentle insistence that they put at least some of the memorabilia away, their apartment would have screamed 'stalker'.
Also, it made sex extremely creepy.
But it was part of Phil's charm. His almost boyish belief in superheroes and the prevailing of good over evil was refreshing, especially since Clint himself had stopped believing in those sorts of things at the ripe age of seven.
So, despite the fact that the archer had initially been trying his best to stem the growth of Phil's near obsessive collection, when Clint heard about the future release of the autographed 'Captain America Compendium:', valued at $500.00 - boasting the inclusion of every comic ever published, full sized posters, exclusive interviews and never before released DVD documenting the man's life - and with only one thousand copies being released, Clint rushed to the nearest computer (Agent Hill's – he all but hip checked her out of the chair) and made the purchase.
The Compendium had sold out within five minutes and Clint felt obnoxiously proud, especially when Phil mentioned it that night over Chinese, mourning the fact that he had been in a meeting when the sale had gone live.
"We'll find one on eBay, babe." Clint had said, barely able to contain himself.
The estimated release date for the Compendium was for August 2012, which meant he only had to keep Phil from getting his hands on a pre-order for four measly months.
He couldn't wait.
Clint stares down at the weighty book and the large, star shaped sticker that exclaimed 'Only One Thousand Published!' and underneath that, in marker, a hand written '320/1000'.
Steve shifts next to him and Clint's positive the man is blushing.
"Oh –" Steve says awkwardly and Clint almost feels for him because they had chosen a rather impressive picture of the man. Book-cover Steve gazes off into the top left corner and he looks almost God-like; it's an inspiring image but Clint knows Steve hates it, knows that he is far to humble to accept such a representation of himself.
"I – uh, remember signing these. I hated the cover work. It's so –" Steve drops off but Clint doesn't press him; he's only half listening as he thumbs the edges.
They sit in silence for a moment and it's clear that Steve is about to make his move to leave when, out of nowhere, Clint feels the urge to tell him.
"It was for Phil." He hadn't intended for it to come out in a strangled half whisper, but that's exactly what happens.
Clint takes a deep breath turning the book over in his hands.
"It was going to be a surprise, you know." Clint smiles and surprises himself – and Steve, no doubt - when he chokes out a laugh.
"He had a meeting the day it went on sale. You should've seen him. He looked like a kicked puppy."
Clint finally looks up at Steve and finds a sad smile on his face, all traces of awkwardness and embarrassment having vanished.
"You want to watch the documentary?" Clint quirks an eyebrow and it sets Steve into a self-conscious stutter.
"It's funny." Steve blurts in an attempt to explain himself. "It wasn't supposed to be but I, I was never good in front of an audience, not in the beginning at least, and a lot of it's really … corny."
God, Clint thinks, Phil really should be here for this.
"I can tell you about all the awkwardness that was going on behind the scenes. They made me look much better than I was."
Clint gives him a small smile and highly doubts it, though he doesn't say so.
"Thanks, but maybe later." Clint feels bad about rejecting the other man's offer but it doesn't seem at all fair because Phil …
Phil would have loved this. This was supposed to be Phil sitting here with his fucking idol offering to watch his own biography whilst give him a private commentary.
Steve just nods, his friendly countenance not fading for even a second.
"Sure."
Steve gives him another kind smile before standing, off to go do whatever Captain America does in his time off, but stops, his gaze growing soft and thoughtful.
"You two were very close." It's half a question, half a statement and Clint is certain the man has no idea how much of an understatement that is.
Try married. He wants to say. He was everything to me.
But Clint doesn't really feel like explaining their relationship. It was impossible to try to explain what he had had with Phil. It was impossible to explain just how empty he was now.
So he just says, 'yeah'.
Steve nods and then he's gone leaving Clint to imagine how differently this could have gone.
Clint puts it in the drawer with all the other things that once belonged to Phil. He tucks it neatly next to his bloodied Captain America cards and his old dog tags, on top of the various postcards Phil had sent him when they were apart too long, most of them blank save for a small, terribly drawn heart.
He never removes the plastic or reads the book or watches the DVD. He doesn't even peel off the huge, gaudy sticker that is already peeling at one of its edges.
He knows Phil's gone but he keeps it pristine, unopened, just in case.