because I firmly believe Nat and Rhodey were pretty good friends, and that Rhodey would be a little salty about Clint disappearing on her.
enjoy.
"I want to thank you again for your help these past months. Your input and advice has been invaluable."
Rhodey nods in acknowledgement. "Thank you, sir."
"I'm afraid I need to ask another favour of you, though. Two, actually."
"Of course, sir. How can I help?"
"We've been unable to get in touch with Clint Barton regarding sending him his official pardon. I wonder if you could be so kind as to deliver it for me?"
Rhodey feels his posture stiffen at the mention of Clint and works to maintain a neutral expression. "Of course, Mr. President," he says while taking an envelope from him.
"I hate to make you a courier, but I suspect you'll be much better equipped to get it to him than we are."
"It's no problem, sir." Rhodey watches as he turns and picks up another envelope from his desk. "In this case, I know it's more than a day late and a dollar short…" he trails off for a moment, tapping the corner of the envelope on the palm of his hand a few times, "but this is Natasha Romanoff's official pardon."
Rhodey feels grief ripple through him at the mention of his former teammate and friend. He still can't believe she and Tony are gone.
"We weren't sure where to send it," the President continues, and Rhodey hears the unspoken words: "We couldn't find any next of kin for her."
"I trust you'll be able to get it into the right hands?" he says, holding the envelope out to Rhodey.
"Yes, sir," Rhodey says with a nod as he takes the envelope and looks down at it for a moment before tucking it into the inner breast pocket along with Clint's for safekeeping.
"Thank you, Colonel."
Rhodey idly twirls the envelopes around his fingers as he allows his mind to wander. Inevitably, his memories take him back to when Nat, Cap, Wanda, and Sam came out of hiding and back into his life. Nat greeted him with a gentle hug. He'd told them they looked like crap — because they really did — but he'd been relieved they were alright.
He'd seen snippets of reports of things they'd been doing as fugitives and had known they were making an impact the way they could. They'd been doing the things that he, stuck under the weight of required paperwork, couldn't. Still, even with the occasional reports confirming they were alive, he'd also worried about them. Life on the run, experienced as Natasha might've been at it, was not easy.
He'd been on the opposite side of the Accords from them — in the case of Natasha, he'd even been betrayed in a sense — but they didn't deserve being locked up in the Raft. That turn of events had been bullshit through and through. So, when they walked back into the Avengers Compound, whole and looking for the most part healthy, he had been pretty damn relieved.
He twirls the envelopes a few more times and then sits back with a sigh. Perhaps more than any of them, Nat had deserved to be relieved of the weight of being a fugitive. She'd never said anything about it the last five years, but he'd been frustrated on her behalf that the government never acknowledged she wasn't still a fugitive. Not until now, he thinks bitterly. Nat had deserved the satisfaction of being around to see the people who'd been so quick to blame her have to admit, "Sorry, we were wrong about you, and here's the proof."
Logically, Rhodey knows there was a ton of red tape, political manoeuvring, and a bunch of other bullshit that had stood in the way — as it seemed to do for just about everything — but they'd had five years to process these. Why was it that only now, so soon after everyone returned from being dusted, were they getting around to it? Yes, the world and governments had been busy dealing with the fallout of half the population returning suddenly, but finalizing these pardons was coming far too late. He'd seen the headlines about the pardons being issued, and immediately had a bad taste in his mouth. It felt far too much like politicians cashing in on cheap goodwill from the public in a tumultuous time. And now, because they'd dragged their feet, thrown up roadblocks unnecessarily, and used the situation to try and score political points, Nat wasn't here to get her pardon.
Yeah, Rhodey thinks, absolute bullshit.
With a sigh, he pulls out his phone and taps a message to Clint, asking if he can swing by the farm the next day. An hour later, he receives a response Rhodey reads as wary but gives the all-clear for a visit.
Rhodey lands on the front lawn and steps out of the suit. Clint's watching him from the porch, wearing a neutral expression but with body language that's borderline confrontational. Someone's expecting bad news, Rhodey thinks.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Clint says, rising to his feet as Rhodey reaches the porch steps.
Rhodey can hear the undercurrent of snark in his tone. It seems even the joy of reuniting with his family doesn't outweigh the pain of losing his best friend. Not that Rhodey had expected it to, because losing your best friend the way that he did... Well, that was bound to leave some scars.
"Am I being arrested again? Nice of them to send a friendly face, though I'm not sure how you're planning to bring me in given you flew in here in your suit," Clint says with a nod to the War Machine suit on the lawn.
Rhodey bites back a remark. He wants to tell him that perhaps he should be arrested, given everything he did as Ronin over the past five years. But he's not here to start anything, so he bites his tongue. "They asked me to get this to you," he says instead, pulling the envelopes out of his jacket and handing Clint his pardon.
"What is it?" Clint asks skeptically, reaching out to take it, then eyeing it warily.
"Your official pardon."
Clint scoffs. "I'll make sure to frame it before I chuck it on the fire."
Rhodey elects again not to take the bait. Maybe he had some cause to be bitter, given how he'd been treated in the wake of the Accords. He'd let him have that. "How's your family?" he asks instead.
Clint nods. "They're fine. Not dust, so that's something, I guess."
Clint's expression is firm, and his tone is measured, but Rhodey can see the gulf of grief in his eyes. He's taking Nat's death hard, and Rhodey doesn't blame him. After all, he's still coming to terms with Tony and Nat being gone.
"Good," Rhodey says honestly. Given how off the rails Clint went after losing them, he knows how important his wife and kids are to him.
"Yeah, thanks." Clint pauses then, his gaze shifting to the remaining envelope in Rhodey's hands. "More good news?" he asks, tipping his chin toward the second envelope. His tone is still suspicious, and Rhodey can't blame the guy. He'd spent his career as an assassin, after all.
Rhodey's lips twist ever so slightly into a bittersweet smile. He pauses momentarily, looking down at the envelope before letting his gaze rise as he holds it out to Clint. "It's Nat's pardon," he says, tone a bit gentler than before. Still, he sees Clint's expression tighten fractionally at his words. "They weren't sure where to send it, so they asked me to get it where it needed to go," he adds.
"Oh," Clint says with a half-hearted nod, accepting the envelope. Rhodey can see him struggling to contain what appears to be equal parts grief and anger. Clint stares at the envelope for a moment before he looks up again. "Thanks," he says, voice gravelly with grief where it had been sharp previously.
Rhodey lets out a heavy sigh. "Look man, I know it's too late to be any good for her, but…at least now they don't have it as ammunition, you know? At least now she gets to be written in history without the fugitive status, bullshit as it was."
Clint clears his throat. "Yeah," he says unconvincingly. Rhodey sympathizes because it is way too little, way too late. Nat deserved a hell of a lot better from the world she'd saved a few times over.
"I miss her too, man," Rhodey says quietly. "I know we don't go as far back as you two, but she and I… Well, we spent a lot of time together these last five years, and even before that, too," he continues, his mind drifting back to those early years.
Clint swallows and nods once. "Yeah," he says again, clearly distracted and not focused on their conversation. Rhodey figures his mind has probably begun to spiral into memories.
"She deserved to have this a long time ago," Rhodey continues, "but at least it's official now, I guess."
"Uh-huh."
Clint's near monosyllabic answers and his reaction to the pardon are enough to convince Rhodey he should leave him alone. "Well, it was good to see you, Clint. I'll leave y—"
"Hey, you want some pie?" Clint offers abruptly, interrupting Rhodey's goodbye.
Rhodey blinks, processing the abrupt offer. "Sorry?"
"Laura made an apple one this morning," Clint explains, and Rhodey eyes him doubtfully. "I'm sorry," Clint adds in apology. "My head's still not on straight."
Rhodey nods because, on some level, he understands it. He forces down the feeling of anger and frustration with the man and instead offers an olive branch. "I get it. Don't worry about it."
"Thanks," Clint says with a nod, understanding and sympathy in his gaze. "So…pie?"
Rhodey considers it. He'd heard from Nat that Laura made a mean apple pie, and it had been some time since he'd had good pie. Plus, clearly, Clint wanted him to stay. Maybe the man had more he wanted to say. "Yeah," Rhodey says. "I can stay for some pie."
Later, as they're sitting on the porch, watching the kids play catch off in the distance, Clint turns to meet Rhodey's gaze. "How you doing?" he asks.
"Keeping busy," Rhodey answers in a non-answer.
"Yeah, Laura mentioned she saw you in some of the press conferences. Said you're a close advisor to the President."
"Sometimes," Rhodey answers vaguely. "How about you? How are you doing?"
Clint shakes his head and blows out a heavy sigh. "Like I said earlier, my head's a mess. I'm a mess."
As he looks at the man sitting next to him, Rhodey thinks of the crime scenes Clint had left behind during his time as Ronin. He remembers Nat telling him of her suspicion that Ronin was Clint; she'd been utterly devastated and desperate to find him. Still, Rhodey had suspected if she'd really wanted, she could've caught up to him, but she hadn't been able to face the reality of what he'd been doing. Not until they'd needed him for the time heist. Somehow, Nat brought Clint Barton back from Tokyo and let him leave Ronin behind them. Looking at him now, though, Rhodey knows Clint Barton may have regained his family — the loss of whom had driven him to become Ronin in the first place — but he was far from being in a good state of mind.
"I think we're all a bit of a mess right now," Rhodey offers diplomatically.
Clint grins wryly. "Tactful as always, Rhodey," he says. "Thank you for being there for her," he adds after a beat.
Someone had to be since you left her all alone, he thinks but bites his cheek to stop himself from saying anything. Clint had ghosted Nat and left her to chase a trail of blood and violence in search of her best friend. He knows it's not the time or place to bring it up, and he knows Clint feels guilt for what he'd done. "Of course," Rhodey says instead.
Clint eyes him shrewdly, and Rhodey knows he's clocked that he'd held back some venom.
"I know," Clint says with a sigh and a look downward as guilt creeps into his features more prominently. "I'll regret it 'til the day I die that I wasn't with her for those five years. She deserved a hell of a lot more from me."
"Yeah, she did," Rhodey agrees plainly. "But it didn't stop her from trying to find you. She never stopped believing the good man who'd saved her life and given her a second chance all those years ago was still in there," he continues with a nod toward Clint.
He remembers in those early days after the mess with Ultron, sipping drinks late one night with Nat after a mission. He doesn't remember how they got on the topic, but he'd asked how she and Clint met, and much to his surprise, Nat had told him the story. She'd described how Clint had gone against his orders, bringing her in instead, and how she owed him everything because of that decision. Rhodey had always known they were close friends, but that night he learned just how deep their friendship went.
He sees Clint scrub a hand roughly across his eyes, and Rhodey chooses not to look closely enough to discern if there are tears.
"She was always the best of us," Clint says, voice hoarse with grief.
"Yeah," Rhodey agrees. "Only one of us with her ego in check for sure," he says, opting to steer them into a lighter tone.
Clint chuckles half-heartedly. "I don't know how she put up with us all those years."
"Man, I don't know either. She had some serious patience. And I dealt with Tony for decades, so I know patience when I see it."
Clint chuckles again. "How's Pepper doing?" he asks, clearly desiring to get off the subject of Nat.
Rhodey nods. "She's doing alright. Day by day, you know how it is."
"Yeah."
Rhodey's watch sounds a beep, and he glances at it, realizing he should be heading out lest he miss his evening meetings. "I should get going," he says. "I've got more phone calls and meetings tonight, unfortunately."
"Yeah, of course," Clint says with a nod as he rises to his feet. "Thanks for coming and bringing those over."
"Yeah, of course," Rhodey answers, shaking Clint's proffered hand. "Thanks for the pie. And thank Laura for me too."
"I will," Clint says with a nod.
"You take care of yourself, okay?" Rhodey says, more an instruction than a question.
Clint nods. "You too."
With a nod, Rhodey turns and walks toward his War Machine suit standing a few feet away on the lawn. He pauses at the bottom of the porch steps and turns back to face Clint. In that split second, he decides to honour what Nat had wanted. What she'd diedfor, he corrects himself silently.
"I won't tell anyone about what you were up to these last five years," he begins, then pauses for a beat, "but if I hear that you've—"
"I'm done with that," Clint interrupts firmly. He glances around, checking if anyone else can hear their conversation. "Nat killed Ronin that day in Tokyo. I'm not going to—" he stops, unable to finish the sentence. He takes a breath and then continues. "She gave me a second chance that day, and then she saved my life on that stupid planet. I'm not throwing that away. I'm… I'm trying to earn what she gave me."
Rhodey nods, understanding and trusting Clint's assurance. "Every day you're with them," he says with a nod toward the kids off in the distance, "you're living what she wanted. She wanted to bring everybody back and reunite families, so if you spend the rest of your life raising these kids and loving your wife, I'd say she'd be pretty happy."
Clint doesn't say anything but gives a single nod.
Rhodey takes the last few steps to the War Machine suit and steps inside. Just before he lifts off the ground, he glances at his old teammate again. Clint raises his hand in a goodbye, and Rhodey mirrors the action before taking off.
as always, thoughts and comments are welcomed.
(also: I don't pretend the understand the legal nuances of pardons, so just go with it, alright? 😉)
more to come.