A/N: Here's chapter 3. I really want to thank those of you reading this and the two of you that have reviewed. If you read this story and like it, please review. Even a little thing like "I like this" or even "this sucks" would be nice. Just a little feedback would be appreciated. I do hope that the lack of reviews is just because the story is having trouble gaining traction. Oh well on with it!
Disclaimer: I wish I owned the Avengers but Marvel/Disney does not me.
Warning: Not much really. We haven't gotten to the M rated stuff yet, but trust me it's coming soon. I've written it so it'll be up soon.
When he woke up, the agent wasn't there. He sighed to himself; he knew that there was no way the past could've changed like that. Sure, he remembered things like Karachi but not the gunshot and definitely not the kiss. He knew he was imagining the kiss. He knew the gunshot was real though, because damn it hurt.
He heard someone enter the room and immediately went for his bow, cursing as he stretched his bandaged side. He also cursed when he couldn't find his bow.
"What the fuck did they do with it?" he whispered to himself. The medical staff knew very well that they were not supposed to touch his bow. Now where was it?
He heard a vicious laugh from the door. "Hello man of Arrows." Clint looked at the man, or should he say god, who had appeared in his room.
The god laughed, "I see you are surprised to see me. I cannot say that I did not expect this. I know you are wondering why I am here." He noticed the way the archer was trying to find his bow.
Loki laughed again. "My oaf of a brother has forgotten to inform you of a few things."
Clint frowned, "Like what?"
The god smirked at him in a way that was really starting to get on Clint's nerves. "I know that you are not as dumb as you look."
The archer growled. The god laughed again, "Even though you act mostly like, what do you Midgardians call it? A dumb muscle?" Clint tried to lunge for the god and only succeeded in landing himself on the floor, groaning.
Loki laughed at the archer on the floor, "Oh did I offend you? If you would simply listen to me you would save yourself much harm."
Clint growled from his position on the floor. "Why should I listen to anything you say?" Loki was suddenly in his face, "Because I possess information that would aid you in saving your little son of Coul."
Now that got Clint's attention. He grabbed Loki's collar and pulled his face up to look into the fiery green eyes of the god. "What do you know? Tell me!"
Loki removed the archer's hand from his shirt. "Maybe if you would hear what I have to say to you, man of Arrows, you would understand." Clint growled low in his throat.
"My oaf of a brother has forgotten to tell you that the past is always changing. You may have knowledge of what has happened but that does not mean that that will be the way the past plays out the second time around."
Clint frowned, "Why are you telling me this?" The god gave Clint a feral grin, "Because man of Arrows, I will not fail the second time." Loki laughed devilishly and stepped on Clint's side, causing the stiches to rip. He disappeared before Clint had a chance to stop him.
The archer felt a hand on his cheek and heard a soothing voice, "Clint, babe, wake up." Clint slowly opened his eyes and came face to face with the concerned brown eyes of agent Phil Coulson.
His head hurt and his side was killing him. He groaned in pain. Phil moved to keep him where he was, "Clint how did you end up on the floor? I heard you screaming and when I ran in, you were over here on the floor."
Clint frowned, "Didn't you see Loki?" Phil chuckled with that concerned look still on his face, "Clint, Thor and Loki returned to Asgard a while ago. Loki's long gone."
Clint shook his head insistently, "Phil you gotta believe me. Loki was here!" Phil frowned, the concerned look taking over his whole face. "Clint, you must've been dreaming. Come on, let's get you back in bed."
Phil slipped an arm under Clint's and around his shoulder, helping the injured man to stand up. The archer was lost in thought.
'Hmm…' he thought, 'if Phil thinks I was dreaming, maybe I was…'
As Phil helped him into bed, Clint felt something warm and wet trickle down his side. He felt his side. Blood. He grunted, which alerted Phil to something being wrong.
"Clint, you're bleeding. You must've ripped your stiches when you fell out of bed." He held up a hand to quiet Clint's protests. "I don't care if you don't want to see doctors, I'm going to get them anyway so that they can stich you back up."
Phil kissed Clint quickly and went to get the doctor.
When Clint was alone, he gingerly touched his side, pulling his hand away to see it covered in his warm, sticky blood. It was real. Clint knew it was real. He knew he'd been visited by Loki but if Phil didn't believe him, who would?
Natasha wouldn't; she was less likely to believe him than Phil. Clint could just picture the look that she would give him if he told her what had happened to him. No, definitely not Natasha.
Fury maybe but then Clint remembered that he didn't really like the man so that was out.
And with that ended Clint's very short list of acquaintances and left him with the realization that no one would believe him. Ok so Clint would have to do this on his own. That was fine, it wasn't like he hadn't done that before.
Problem was he now had Phil. Not that Phil was a problem by any means but it just meant that now Clint would have to explain himself to the agent for two reasons.
He heard the doctor walk in and they repaired his stiches quickly and re-bandaged him. Once they had left, Phil sat back down next to Clint's bed. "Alright Clint, do you want to tell me what happened? What really happened."
Clint looked slightly exasperated. "Phil, I told you what happened. I saw Loki. Loki was here. He talked to me."
Phil sighed and gave Clint his agent look. "Clint, I told you, Loki wasn't here. Loki is on Asgard with Thor."
"Phil I'm not lying! I know what I saw! He ripped my stiches."
Phil looked at Clint sternly, "Barton, Loki was not here. You ripped your stiches when you fell out of bed. Now get some sleep, we're moving you back home to the states tomorrow. You've been cleared to go."
Clint frowned at the fact that Phil didn't believe him but he frowned mostly at the fact that Phil had just called him Barton.
Phil leaned down and kissed Clint's lips, "Sleep Clint, sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
The archer gave him a pointed look, "You mean like you were last time?" Phil frowned, "I left for five minutes to get some coffee, that's it. But I promise I will be here when you wake up. Promise."
With the breath of that promise on his lips, Phil leaned down to kiss Clint one last time before Clint closed his eyes and he fell asleep.
Clint felt like he had slept for only a few minutes before he was awakened by a soft kiss on his lips. He quickly reached for his bow, forgetting that it wasn't next to him like it should've been. Clint reached a hand up to pry his attacker off when he realized that said attacker was quietly soothing him.
"Clint, relax babe, it's me. It's Phil." Clint brought his hands back down and relaxed back into the bed, slowly opening his eyes to come face to face with the soft smile of agent Phil Coulson.
"Shit Phil, you scared me. You know I'm especially cautious when I'm asleep. Next time give me some warning, sir. I'm paid to kill people who attack me and I'd hate to kill you."
The agent smirked, "Like you'd be able to kill me, Barton. I know all of your moves."
The archer finally smiled a bit, "Not all of them, sir. I've been training." Phil smiled and kissed him. "I'm sure you have."
Just after Phil pulled away, a S.H.I.E.L.D. doctor came in. "Mr. Barton, we are ready to move you to the plane for airlift back to headquarters." The doctor looked at Phil. "Agent Coulson, you are needed in the hanger to give orders to the crew." Coulson was back in full agent mode as he nodded his affirmative before looking over at Clint. "I will see you soon Barton." And then Coulson was gone leaving Clint alone with the doctor. Clint sighed; Phil knew how much he hated doctors.
However, lucky for Clint he only had to wait while the doctor checked his vitals and his wound before he called a few nurses and a spare junior agent to help him get the archer to the plane safely. Once on board, Clint would be transferred into the care of the on board medics and doctors but until then, he needed to be properly monitored to make sure that his wound didn't reopen and he didn't go into shock. After all, there was only so much that a doctor could do on a plane.
Once the medical staff had gotten his situated on the plane, the doctors who were caring for him in flight and the rest of the agents returning with them boarded and the plane took off.
As soon as they were in the air, Clint began to get fidgety. He hated being restrained and he hated having to be looked after even more. Unless it was Phil doing the looking after, but that was a different story.
It was a long flight from Turkey all the way back to New York. The archer was bored out of his mind. He counted the seats on the plane, the number of agents asleep, the number playing games on laptops instead of working, and the number that were actually working.
Not surprisingly, Phil was one of the agents working. Clint groaned at the sight. 'Doesn't that man ever take a break?' he wondered to himself. For God's sake Phil was even in the same damn suit!
Though Clint had to admit, it was kind of hot. 'Good thing for Phil that I find the overworked, super-serious, suit-wearing, secretly badass middle-aged man thing kinda hot.' He smirked at that thought.
For his age, Phil Coulson was definitely attractive. He had a lot of muscles for someone who was fourty-one and supposedly a workaholic. Clint knew about Phil's past in the military, of course, but he figured that the man also found time for some secret workouts. 'Probably works out at 2:30 in the morning when he thinks that no one will find him.' Clint snorted at the thought. They weren't that different at all.
Finally, after what felt like a million years to Clint (which was really only a few hours), they finally landed at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in New York. The archer couldn't wait to get off the goddamn plane and out of the reach of the doctors as soon as possible.
However, much to his dismay, instead of being allowed to return to his life, Clint was taken off the plane and put immediately back into medical.
Great, cause this was exactly how he wanted to spend more of his time. 'Maybe this new future isn't really all it's cracked up to be.'
Clint was grumbling to himself when Phil walked in. He smiled at the archer who glared at him. Phil snorted, he knew he was the only one who got to see emotions like this from the archer.
"Now Clint, you know that you're in medical for your own good as much as for my piece of mind. You aren't healed yet and you won't be cleared to go on missions again for a while."
At that Clint opened his mouth to protest, "But Phil, what am I supposed to do with myself if I can't go on missions? I need to get back out there! It's the only way I'll get better. You know this. Phil, please, for my good, convince them to let me out of here."
Phil frowned, "Clint you aren't healed fully…" "I've been in here for over a week!" Clint interrupted. "You know I can handle it." Phil nodded. "I know that you need to remain here for some more time. Good bye agent Barton."
Clint didn't even look up as Phil left.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please, please, please read and review! Reviews do keep me going when the inspiration isn't immediately forthcoming.