Natasha sat in a corner of her favorite restaurant, waiting for Bruce. She pressed her index fingers against her ears to stop the noises around her. She watched the customers. Most of them talked animatedly about something. A few were laughing. On the other side of the room sat a couple, holding hands. A sudden movement next to her startled her and she wasn't able to suppress a jerk.
"What are you doing?" It was Bruce.
She stared at him, trying to remember how his voice sounded. She loved his voice. Natasha opened her mouth and decided to give it a try. She answered but she could see on Bruce's face that he had no clue what she had just said. With a sad smile on her lips she put her hands down, "I want to know how it feels to be deaf." The thought of Clint being deaf didn't let go of her.
"Ah," he sat down. "How does it feel?"
"It's frightening," she confessed. "I didn't notice you at all. I was so focused on observing that I missed your entrance. If our date were a mission I would be dead by now."
"He has his hearing aids. He's not defenseless or handicapped."
"He must have been scared," she looked so vulnerable and young that Bruce felt the urge to Hulk out and protect her. "Waking up in the hospital, the moment he realized he couldn't hear anything..."
"He's though."
"He's not."
"No?" He tricked her into talking about her relationship with Barton.
"No, he's a scared child in the body of a 42 years old adult."
"He doesn't seem so childlike. Okay he can behave like a kid at times but I got the impression that he's very mature beneath his façade."
"I don't mean he's not mature. It's his- soul. His emotional world resembles that of a child. He can't make a difference between… for example… Tony made a joke about his upbringing do you remember?"
"Yeah, about him being a carny kid."
She nodded, "In our eyes it was just friendly banter but for Clint… the way I know him all he heard was you're nothing more than a carny. No education, no home, no worth."
"Oh," Bruce was surprised. "But when I remember correctly he made a witty remark and they laughed about it."
"One thing I know for sure about Clint is that he'd rather die than let you see what's going on inside his mind. It was always me who observed and pushed him to talk about it. He never came on his own, not once."
"Does he talk to Coulson?"
"Back then, sometimes. Phil can read Clint like no one else can. Not even me. He's famous for tricking Clint into doing what he wants," she smiled sadly while she lowered her gaze. "I'm not immune to his tricks either."
"I know what you mean," Coulson was a tricky man and had twisted the Avengers around his finger more than once. One glare or casual comment, more wasn't necessary. "I can't imagine them together. All I have seen is coldness and hate between them."
"They're sickening," she grimaced. "At work they behave normal, little touches here and there nothing more, but in private their practically glued together. Okay they meet with friends and go out alone but in general they constantly hold hands, or cuddle, or brush their shoulder's together… all these things."
"I can do that too," he felt suddenly really brave while she talked with that longing expression in her eyes.
She blushed furiously, "I-…., I want that too." The confession wasn't as hard to voice as she thought it would be. "I'd love to have that with you."
It was Bruce's turn to blush. "Gladly," he placed his huge hand on top of hers. "We can make it work."
"I know," she smiled at him taking his breath away. They weren't ready to say the three famous words but in their world it wasn't absolutely necessary. They knew it anyway.
::::::::::::::
"Can I ask you a question?" Cap sounded so insecure that Tony stopped working on his project.
"Sure."
"What do you think about gay marriage," not what he wanted to say but this would do too.
"When they love each other," he shrugged, "it's fine with me. I think love is not bound to gender. Do you have trouble to accept it? I mean you're… old."
Steve laughed, "No, no it doesn't bother me."
A strange glitter appeared in Stark's pretty eyes, "Do you try to test if I'm interested in a relationship? … With you for example."
The scarlet red color on Captain America's face told him anything he needed to know, "I wouldn't have flirted with you if I were not interested. Against public beliefs I'm not unwilling to enter a lasting relationship."
"Oh god," Steve buried his face in his palms, that's awkward. "Would-, would you like to go out with me?" He rushed, making Tony laugh.
"I'd love to," he said to avoid misunderstandings. Cap could misinterpret his laugh and think he was making fun of him. "I liked you since our second mission together," he added more serious.
"Yeah, I realized my attraction around that time as well. You're not as infuriating as I thought."
"And you're not as self-righteous as you pretended to be."
"I hated you're guts."
"What? I'm shocked; Captain America hates a simple citizen of his precious country?"
"You're not simple and you're nothing like you want us to believe you are," he loved the snarky genius with his hidden heart of gold. "Be honest, you hated me too," he smirked.
"Hell yeah I did. You're so bossy and old fashioned," and caring.
"As much as I want to go out with you," Steve placed his hand on Tony's cheek. "I'd like to finish your project first."
Tony moved into Steve's personal space, "You and your boy. Should I be jealous?" He pressed their lips together not giving Steve a chance to reply. He knew the answer anyway. Barton was Steve's boy and Coulson's man, Tony was Steve's partner and Clint's brother in crime.
"I agree with you Captain," he smirked against Cap's lips. "Let's make our boy happy."
:::::::::
"Phil," Clint tried to move.
"Stop that," Phil pushed him back against the mattress. They transferred him to a normal room without 24/7 monitoring but that didn't mean the archer was well enough to get out of bed. "Your doc didn't give his okay."
"Where are my clothes?"
The older agent noticed that his archer was mentally absent; probably still half asleep. "Evidence room, they kept them in case they have to court-martial someone."
"I need my vest," Clint struggled weakly against Phil's hold.
"You stay here. I get you whatever you want."
"Second pocket on the right," Clint blinked sleepily. "They have no right to take it away from me. Phil will be mad if I lose it. Don't tell him but he can be really, reeeally sensitive. I want it back. 'm not safe without it… -keeps me grounded..."
"Don't move while I'm gone," he ordered. "And don't worry I won't tell him."
Clint nodded and tried to focus on the man with him in the room. He hated meds.
Coulson stopped at the front desk, ordering a nurse to keep an eye on Barton, before he walked down to the evidence room. It was easy to get Clint's belongings but to his surprise the pocket was empty. Clint must have imagined things.
"Have you found what you're looking for, sir?" A middle aged agent peeked into the room.
"No," Phil frowned. Even drugged Clint knew what he was talking about, not always whom he talked to but the topic was correct. "Who had access to the room since Barton was hospitalized?"
"Just me and Agent Ross, sir."
Phil wanted to say something as a silver object around the agent's wrist caught his attention. He knew the bracelet. "Pretty," he pointed at the bracelet. "Where did you get that? My mate would love it."
"Brought it back from my trip to Vancouver," the man shrugged.
Coulson tilted his head, "Vancouver?"
"Yes sir."
The rage inside Coulson intensified and he acted on instinct rather than logic. He pushed the agent against the nearest wall and pressed his forearm against the man's throat while his other arm held the agent's wrist tight in place. "Funny coincidence that you wear my bracelet. I wasn't aware to have given it to you."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he rasped.
"I bought the bracelet for a special someone and it wasn't you," Phil hissed. "What else did you steal?"
"I'm not a thief."
Phil snorted, "You're not a thief but you wear my fiancé's bracelet. There's something not quite correct with your story."
"They said his condition was... fatal," there was nothing wrong with taking things when the owner was dead anyway.
"Have you ever thought about it that their families might want their belongings to keep the memory alive?"
"Barton does not have a family."
"I'm his soon to be husband, what does that make me?"
"Family," the guy almost choked on his words as Coulson put more pressure on his throat.
"Right," Phil glared before he snapped the guy's wrist like a twig. He let go of the crying man and took the bracelet off, staring at it for a while. Clint carries it around on missions, his heart swelled with love. He endangers his recovery just to get this piece of silver back. I didn't know my present means so much to you. Probably comparable with the necklace you gave me.
He clutched the bracelet in his fist while he waited for security to pick the douchebag up. The guy didn't move more than absolutely necessary in case Coulson lashed out again.
His expression was grim and most people avoided him on his way back to Clint, just Jasper was brave enough to approach him.
It felt strange to see his friend walking through HQ dressed in jeans and a shirt. "Phil, wait."
"Follow me if it can't wait." Phil continued walking.
"What got into you?" Jasper was worried.
"One of the guys down in evidence stole Clint's bracelet out of his jacket."
"You know that why?"
"I went down there to get it and the bastard wore it around his wrist," Coulson growled dangerously.
"Why does it matter, it's Barton's."
Phil stopped so suddenly that Jasper's mind didn't catch up with it instantly; he turned around to look at his friend. "It's over. Phil you have to let it go."
"Leave me be," Phil got his legs into motion, passing by without sparing Jasper a second glance.
Sitwell followed, keeping a safe distance. He wasn't sure Phil wouldn't shoot him. After they reached medical he stood in front of a door with a little plate next to the door. Barton? Fury said there had been an 'accident' with a few high ranking politicians and that Barton got caught in it. His condition had been critical and they assumed that the archer did not make it.
Jasper had to be sure so he gathered all his courage and stepped into the room. The sight that greeted him shocked him.
Phil sat next to the archer and held the sleeping man's hand while he read him a story. The infamous bracelet stood up against Barton's pale skin. The archer looked like death warmed over. He reminded Sitwell strongly of Phil's brush with death.
"What do you want?" Phil put down the book, not trusting himself enough not to throw it at Jasper.
"He's alive?"
"What bad luck," Phil deadpanned. "I don't want to hear it," he raised a hand to stop Jasper from saying out loud what was clearly written all over his face.
"What are you doing here, Phil? You promised yourself not to fall for his tricks again," Jasper said unimpressed.
"Not here," Coulson looked at Clint to make sure the archer was still sleeping. A fight caused by his survival was the last he needed right now. Phil got up and pecked Clint on the cheek before he forcefully pushed Jasper out of the room. "I have no time for your shit, you get two minutes."
"I asked my question now you owe me an answer." Sitwell wasn't as unaffected by Coulson's mood as he tried to make the other man believe.
"A misunderstanding, that's all it was."
"Huh, sure."
"Did Fury tell you why he's in there?" Phil pointed at the door behind him; his eyes never left Jasper's.
"He said something about an accident."
"Accident?" Phil snorted disbelievingly. "Clint got shot protecting me. High ranking people used him; they used me against him..."
Sitwell was speechless as tears spilled from his friend's eyes.
"They threatened to kill me should he deny their orders. They put a bounty on my head to make sure Clint behaved. In case one of them dies an assassin comes after me," it was hard not to let names slip. "So tell me Jasper, what would you have done?"
"It could be a lie," Sitwell doubted the story. Barton had broken Phil's heart once and there was no confirmation that he wouldn't do it again.
"Leave Jasper, before I do something I might regret."
"No, you have to listen."
"I don't want to listen," Phil yelled. "I'm tired of listening to you."
"He's a trained liar; he's good at playing with people. I'm afraid he hurts you again, why can't you understand that we're worried?" He meant himself and Maria. "We don't want to lose you."
"You just lost me," Coulson lowered his gaze and walked back into the room not giving Jasper a chance to recover from his verbal blow.
"How much did you hear?" Phil stared into the open eyes of his lover.
"He has a point," Clint ignored the question. "He's a good friend."
"I have to choose," Phil sat down on the edge of Clint's bed. "And I choose you."
"Do you have to choose?"
"Yes," Coulson said softly. "I love you Clint. I can live without friends, I did for a while. But I can't live without you."
"Can I talk to him?" Clint wanted to fix the mess he made. To his surprise Phil started to laugh.
"Absolutely not. You're on each other's throats in no time. He will not listen and you will push until both of you snap. There's no way I let you guys talk without me around."
"With you then," Clint pouted.
"No," the older agent stroked a strand of hair aside. Clint's hair was a little longer than it used to be. "You're still sick."
The archer reached out and grabbed Coulson's shirt, pulling him closer. "I will fix it one day," he urged his lover to lean further forwards.
Phil had fun letting Clint wait for his kiss. The lines of frustration on his archer's face were adorable.
"Kiss, now."
The older man chuckled as he took pity on his asset so he brought their lips together, kissing Clint until they ran out of air.
::::::::::::::::::
Maria was furious, she had yelled at Nick for hiding Clint's survival. The older man had given her a lecture about camaraderie. She never understood why he loved the jerk so much. Barton was a liability and an asshole. He broke Phil and Fury didn't seem to mind.
"Phil we have to talk," she stormed into Clint's room not bothering to knock.
"Agent Hill," Phil said politely. "What can I do for you?"
Clint looked back and forth between both agents. The air felt heavy, as if he could cut through it with a knife.
"You can't be serious," she fumed. "After all he has done you crawl back to him? What are you a masochist? The asshole will hurt you again, Phil. It's just a matter of time."
Clint wished the ground would open beneath him and swallow him.
"I am serious agent Hill," Phil glared at her. "Who gives you the right to judge over my private life?"
"The position as your friend," Maria glanced at Barton who tried to make himself invisible. "We are not friends' Agent," Phil's voice dripped with venom. "We stopped being friends a long time ago."
"I never stopped considering you one of my best friends. I care for you Phil, if you want to or not and I warn you. He will make the same mistakes all over again, breaking your heart in the process."
"Do you know what happened?" Phil seethed.
"He walked out on you," she stated.
"Do you know why he did what he did?"
She frowned, "He's feeding you lies. Whatever it is he's telling you, don't believe him."
"I think you should leave," Clint could see how Phil's body prepared to strike. "Maybe we should continue another time."
"Shut up you scumbag," Maria yelled at him. "I don't want to hear one single word out of your dirty mouth, got that?"
Phil got up ready to throw her out of the room as Clint wrapped his strong fingers around his wrist. The archer hissed in pain as his body protested.
"Clint," Phil focused his attention on his lover. Clint fought for each breath while he tried to breathe through the pain. "Let me see your shoulder," there were droplets of blood seeping through Clint's gown.
"Just overstretched the scab," Clint whispered in a pained tone. His shoulder felt like it was on fire.
Phil didn't believe a word and pressed the button to call a nurse. He forgot about Maria who stood silently close to the door.
"I have to ask you to leave," the nurse hurried into the room with a doctor in tow. "You too," she ordered Phil.
Coulson reluctantly left the room with Maria in tow. He wanted to strangle her but that would make Clint angry. "Happy now?"
"No," the panic on her friend's face felt like a dagger to her heart. "Why Phil?"
"I'm sure Jasper told you why."
"It's a lie."
"No it's not," Phil hissed. "I was there. I saw him getting shot. I heard Johnson say that he used Clint."
"Johnson?" Her eyes widened. The guy was a bad man and they were happy he was gone.
"…," Phil cursed himself for spilling secrets.
"I heard he likes to blackmail people," she remembered a briefing they had months ago.
"They used me to get his service. He broke up with me in hope they'd lose interest in me but they didn't."
"It could be a con."
"Hell, Maria." She frustrated him. Why was it impossible to convince them?
"Do you truly believe him?"
"What do you think?" He replied angrily.
Maria sighed, that wasn't what she had planned. "Fury knows about it?"
Phil gave her a look that stated clearly that he thought she was kidding.
"We talk again after I read the file," it was an order.
"Yes, vice director," he made it clear that he did not approve. She waited with him until the nurse and doctor emerged from Clint's room. The silence was uncomfortable but she hadn't the heart to leave him alone.
"The blood comes from scabs but sadly his rib needs more time to recover because he caused some damage with his sudden movement."
"Nothing too serious?" Phil worried.
"No," the doctor promised. "He'll be fine."
"Thank you," Phil went back into the room. Maria on the other hand was on her way to squeeze the file out of her boss. "What do you think you're doing, Clinton?"
"I was worried you'd kill her," the archer confessed. "Killing friends is rather lousy."
"I was not going to kill her," Phil put his hands on his hips. "I just wanted to throw her out."
"Alive?"
"Yes, maybe, alive." Phil gaze softened. "I'm glad you didn't hurt yourself that much."
"I know you'll get angry but I have to ask. Do you think it's a good idea to marry me? You'll lose many friends. I'm not S.H.I.E.L.D.'s favorite agent, especially not after Loki."
"What does he has to do with all this?"
"They hate me for leading him into the Helicarrier. They hate me for killing their friends. They hate me for hurting you, not as much as I hate myself for it but they're angry. They don't like having me around."
"It's not your fault," Phil took Clint's hand. "He fucked with your mind."
"They don't care, and I'm not able to get rid of the memories."
"I'll protect you," I'll keep your nightmares at bay.
"I don't need protection," Clint felt weak and unworthy. He could protect himself he always did.
"I owe you for saving my life, how does that sound?"
"I don't need anyone's protection," Clint was desperate to remain strong.
"I know you don't want to hear that but you do need protection. You always needed me in a way no one but us understood. It's okay to accept my offer."
"I don't need your protection, I'm an adult."
"Does that mean you don't need us?" He pointed from himself to Clint.
The archer opened his mouth to deliver a snarky reply but the sadness in Coulson's eyes let the words die on his tongue.
"Couples protect each other," Phil continued. "They care and treasure each other."
"I-, I'm not a weak child," Clint mumbled.
"I know you're not a child. You're an adult. A strong one I might add. But even adults need someone who cares enough to keep harm away."
"I couldn't protect you," Loki almost killed you.
"You protected me from Johnson."
"Yeah, that ended well," his voice was filled with sarcasm.
"I'm alive. It was you who almost got killed. I was safe in your arms."
"It was nice feeling you again," Clint's gaze seemed dull.
"To feel you again were indescribable; until the bullet hit," the memory sent a rush of fright through his body.
The tremor that ran through Phil's body was conspicuous no matter how hard he tried to hide it. The archer reached out in hope to soothe some of the pain away but Coulson withdrew from him. The memory was still too fresh in his mind to deal with Clint's touch. He couldn't forget how his archer's warm body was pressed against his, the force as Clint's body slammed against his the moment the bullet tore through his innards. The look on Clint's face and the trickle of blood.
"I need air," Phil breathed heavily. "I'm sorry," he added before he took flight from the situation and Clint.
Barton tried to get up but his body protested strongly and the more he thought about it the more he accepted that Coulson needed some space. As far as he knew the older man remained by his side; not granting himself time to grieve properly. Phil obviously delayed his own coping process until now. Or rather his mind caught up with him and he had to start dealing with it.
So he lay back down and did the only thing he could do at the moment. Wait.
::::::::::::
"What are you doing here old friend? You look like you've seen a ghost." Nick sat down next to Phil who sat on a bench close to a tree. HQ had a little backyard with trees, flowers and as much green as possible.
"I ran," he stated simply. He couldn't believe that he ran from the man he claimed to love, whom he swore to protect just moments ago.
"Could you be even sketchier?"
"I ran from Clint," he looked at Nick with wide eyes. "He tried to touch me and I ran."
"Why?" Nick hated dealing with traumas but Phil was his friend and he obviously needed him.
"A flashback. I- remembered the shooting and how his body reacted when he got shot. I mean, he used his body as a shield. He cradled my head against his chest. Johnson had no chance to hit me; he had to kill Clint first. Ah hell, you know the report…"
"I do," Nick confirmed he had read it over and over again. "But reports are objective. I have no clue what you went through," he tapped his index and middle finger against his own chest, above his heart.
"He was dying in my arms; he was ready to die for me even though our ways parted years ago and you know how messy that was," he remained silent for a while before he continued. "He was there, after Loki hurt me. I didn't imagine him," a gentle smile graced his lips.
"I too thought your mind was playing tricks on you," seemed like the archer tinkered with their system to outwit his tracking device. Normally he only tracked agents when they got caught by the enemy but after Phil told him he had seen Clint he used his power as director to bend protocol. The device never showed him near medical. "I have to ask him how the hell he tricked the tracking device."
"He gets smarter," Phil adored Clint's quick way of learning. He was the living proof that even high-school drop outs are smart. They just chose the wrong path, lacked individual attention or chose not to bend themselves to fulfill society's expectations.
"Yeah," Nick said sourly, "especially with Stark around. I don't appreciate their friendship."
"But you have to admit that their good for each other."
Nick let out a sigh not hiding the distaste behind it, "That they are. Do you think they grow closer?"
"Should Clint lower his protection wall even further… yes."
"I feared it," the director growled half-heartedly. "But back to the topic. How are you feeling about all this?"
"I don't know," his emotional world was nothing more than pure chaos. "I'm happy he's alive. I'm happy he loves me and that it was just an act to lure Johnson away from me. I'm glad we get a second chance."
"I hear a 'but' in all this."
"I have to learn everything anew. He's not the same person I loved and I'm probably not the same man he used to love. I have to gain his trust again and I have to learn how to give him my trust. What happened left marks, very deep marks on both our hearts. In addition to that I have to work through the shoot out. I couldn't stand being around him. I-"
"Phil, it's a normal reaction to what you had to endure. It needs time, a lot of time and I'll give you the best psychiatrists I have. You can keep Gordon if you want but you have to cooperate with them or else they can't help you. You know that. I understand the difficulties of rebuilding your relationship but do you know what I think?"
Phil shook his head, no.
"I think beneath the masques both of you are wearing, are still the same people I used to know back then. The construct of your protection walls might have changed but not your personalities. You need time to adjust and Barton needs time to drop the act he had to put up for your sake."
"You might be right," Phil nervously played with his hands.
"I am right. I know you guys. I didn't pick a side and held contact as much as possible to you both. I know what I saw and what I'm seeing now. You're scared and worry much more than necessary. You always think too much, making yourself sick one way or another."
"Do we truly have a chance?"
"Yes."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Did you just listen?"
Phil huffed, "Thank you Nick."
"Aw don't thank me. Our conversation never happened, that's an order."
"Yes sir." Phil felt better after Nick's clumsy try to make him see reason. His friend was most probably right but it was hard to believe when your mind provided question after question; horror scenario after horror scenario.
"Go back to your man or go home," Fury gave his friend a strong pat on the shoulder before he returned to his duty.
Phil decided that going home was the best option for now. He needed time to think and rest. The stress was catching up with his body and he felt like he could sleep for ages. Clint was in good hands and would be fine for a few hours.