Note: Yeah, I'm trying to stick to crossovers, but I love writing interesting, different things. Can't believe I turned a soulmate AU into a 5+1 Things fic. Or is it the other way around?

"Five Times Loved"

1

Phil stared as Clint brought in the Black Widow. There was a sudden movement, and the Widow took out their would-be assailant.

"That's not the last of them," she told Phil as they walked over to him. Her eyes were darting around, but she met his eyes when she spoke.

Clint didn't know Phil's soulmark; he kept it very private, as people did. But he obviously saw the way Phil's lips parted in surprise, because he frowned, and opened his mouth.

"Boss—"

"Another one!" the Widow said, pulling a gun neither of them had noticed. The next minute was filled with fending off more attackers, obviously after the Black Widow as well. Once all five men in black were down, Phil looked over his shoulder at the one she had shot before he could take Phil. Then he smiled at her, and she nodded.

"I love you," he said. Her eyes widened.

"What?" she said.

"Don't worry," Clint said. "He said the same thing to me the first time I saved his life."

"Coincidentally the first time we met," Phil said. "Though they weren't the first words I said to him."

"But they were the first ones you said to me," she said.

"Your…" He trailed off, hoping she'd understand. She nodded. "Same."

"I'll come with you," she said, stepping closer to them. "But the minute I no longer trust SHIELD, I'm out."

"Then don't trust SHIELD," Clint said, nudging her. "Trust us."

She never mentioned the soulmark to Phil by name, and seemed wary enough to make it worthwhile giving her some room. He waited for her to come to him, but she never did.

2

"You obviously have a crush on your soulmate, so why don't you do something about it?" Clint said, kicking Phil under his desk. Phil kicked back harder, so Clint pulled his knees up to his chin and sat curled in the chair opposite his boss.

"Because you're seeing something that isn't there, Hawkeye," he said.

"Dude, I'm not blind. You have feelings for her, and she… doesn't hate you. Or, more important, doesn't mistrust you."

"I have no idea what the Red Room taught her about soulmates, but I can bet it wasn't positive, or she might've… I don't know, talked to me about it by now."

"C'mon, Coulson. You won't say any—"

Phil's phone rang. He picked it up without even looking, saving his blistering glare for Clint, who barely flinched. "Coulson."

"Romanov's returned from her mission," Hill said. "She's in medical."

"Who dragged her kicking and screaming?" he asked.

"No one."

"You mean she went there voluntarily?" Clint raised his eyebrows, and mouthed 'Natasha?' Phil nodded. It must've been worse than he thought.

"Right before passing out from a head injury and blood loss. She's menstruating at the moment, which means that the loss is heavier."

"I… didn't need to know that, but thank you for giving me additional worry. We'll be down there soon." Then he hung up, and yanked his tie off, feeling it choke him.

"I'm allowed to come?" Clint asked, following Phil as he strode out the door.

"You'll find some other way in. At least if you walk in the door you bring fewer germs than coming through the vents."

She seemed pretty drowsy, floating in and out of consciousness. She was closer to Clint than she was to Phil, but he was used to suppressing his jealousy by now. He was glad that she had a trusted friend at SHIELD, and hoped that she might even consider Phil to be a friend as well. Sure, he was her boss, but so was Clint, and he got on well with the archer, no matter how irritating he was at times.

Still, it was Clint who was holding Natasha's hand, not Phil. Clint sitting beside her bed, not Phil. Clint whispering to her, trying to keep her awake. Not Phil. Never Phil.

But they waited. He had to leave eventually, but he allowed himself the indulgence of stroking her (currently blonde) hair away out of her eyes.

"Get better, Natasha," he whispered. "You're one of my best friends. I love you."

"I'll look after her, boss," Clint said. Phil nodded, and left.

3

Phil's feelings were getting out of hand. He knew he was naturally drawn to her because of the soulmateship. But he loved the occasional glimpses of humour he got from her, her cool efficiency, her ability to keep on top of her paperwork, the smiles that transformed her face from attractive to beautiful. And while he knew he was way out of her league, that didn't stop him from hoping that their connection would be enough for her to make some overtures of actual friendship.

His older friends – the ones he'd known for years – called him pathetic.

"You'll regret this in the morning," Blake said as Phil had his fourth shot.

"Got the day off tomorrow," he said. "Besides, nothing gives me a clearer head than a mission. If I'm called in for work, it'll be no problem."

"I hate being designated driver," Garrett said. "But I never miss an opportunity to see Phil off his face `cause of alcohol."

"Or drugs," Hand added.

"That was one time, years ago," Phil said. "That extremely unattractive photo Sitwell took of me scared me into never smoking a joint again."

"I still don't know how you got rid of it," Sitwell grumbled.

"So are you ever gonna suck it up and tell her how you feel?" Hill said. "Hey, can I get a bag of peanuts here?"

"Not worth it," Phil said. "She's not interested. Made it clear she doesn't wanna be my friend."

"You mean that she doesn't want you to be her friend," Fury said. Phil scowled at him.

"Thanks, boss," he said waspishly. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Don't be so damn pedantic," May said. "And you, Coulson. Stop being so pessimistic."

"I can't read your poker face half the time," he complained. "How am I supposed to read Romanov? I've known you much, much longer."

"Not that much longer," she muttered.

"Cutting off your shots," Hill said. "Have some peanuts. They'll soak up the alcohol."

"Myth," he said, but he tore into the packet gratefully.

Garrett saw him back to his room. Once inside, Phil pulled out his mobile, dialled Natasha's number, and stared at it for a long time before hitting the call button.

"Who is this?" she asked sharply.

"Hi, Natasha."

"…Coulson? How did you get this number?"

"Clint," he said. "I love Clint. He's a great guy, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," she said, and she sighed. "What do you want, Coulson?"

"I love you, too, Natasha. You're kickass. Like Melinda May. Have you met her? You'd be great fun. Friends. If you think you like Hill, you'd love May. I love her as well. One of my oldest friends, but don't tell her I said that, or she'll prank me in some big way, and I'm too drunk to handle that right now."

"You've been drinking?" she said.

"Senior agents," he said. "Best friends, `side from you an' Clint. I love Clint. And you. Did I tell you that?"

"Yes," she said. "My soul…"

"Soulmark?" he said. "Y'know what my soulmark says? 'That's not the last of them.' First words you said to me. I know you don't talk about it, but…" He yawned. "G'night, Natasha. Thanks for the call."

He just about managed to hit the hang up button, then curled up in his bed to shut his eyes until he felt like getting up to shower.

4

The one and only SHIELD movie night was problematic. First, they had to agree on a genre of movie. Action was out, because everyone was a critic, and some people had triggers. Thrillers and horror films were out for much the same reason. No one wanted to watch children's movies or musicals. Fury vetoed pornography before anyone could so much as suggest it. It left drama, comedy, or romance. Classics were discarded, quite a large section of SHIELD went against drama, everyone's tastes in comedy films differed, which left them with romance.

They ended up with a cheesy soulmate romantic comedy, complete with the usual misunderstandings, the angst arising from that, the best friend everyone cheered for, and the Grand Gesture ending. Phil was sitting at the back with Natasha, since Clint was on assignment. He thought he heard a sound from her, and his brow furrowed when he noticed the tears running down her cheeks. He discreetly held out the handkerchief from his suit pocket, and she accepted it with a half-smile.

"Should've gone with The Lion King, like I suggested," he murmured just loudly enough for her to hear.

"That kind of love, right there," she whispered, nodding to the screen, "the Hollywood kind of love… Is it bad that I used to want it? That sometimes I still do?"

"Nothing bad about it," he said. Surely everything in his posture, in his manner towards her, screamed the fact that he would do anything for her to want him like that?

"Love is for children."

"Too bad for you, then. Because there are people who like you, as a friend. And there are people who love you like a friend. Clint loves you. I love you. I'm pretty sure Fury loves you, insofar as Fury can love anyone. There are younger agents who worship you, aspire to be like you. If you let anyone get closer to you, they'd love you, too."

She only leaned against his side for a moment, but it was enough. That would carry him along for months.

5

The Helicarrier was being attacked. Phil bumped into Natasha on his way to the weapons room, while she ran to find Clint.

"Good luck," he said. "Don't die."

"Succinct instructions," she said.

"At least mine are monosyllabic," he retorted. "'Succinct instructions'? How do you even have the time to say that?"

"We have enough time to stand here and argue about it, apparently," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Be careful out there, Natasha." She nodded, and turned away. "I… love you."

She stopped in her tracks. He began to continue on his way, but stopped when he heard her reply.

"Why?" she asked. He shrugged, even though she probably wasn't looking.

"Don't have the time to tell you all the little reasons," he said.

"Is it because… of our soul—"

"No," he said. "I told you once that you just had to let people in and they would love you. I can't help it. I've tried, but…" He shrugged again. "It doesn't matter. You need to help Clint, I need to help the others. Go."

He was nearly at the end of the corridor when he heard the sound of running feet behind him. He turned, ready to fight, and found his arms full of Russian spy. She broke away when there was another explosion.

"Don't die," she said, slowly unwinding her arms from around his shoulders. "Phil, I can't do this without you. I lo… Just don't die."

He swallowed as he stared at her, the picture she made, then walked away.

I make no promises, he thought to himself, flinching at another distant explosion.

+1

The typical, familiar beeping was present when Phil woke up.

He took stock, discreetly flexing each muscle and testing each bone that he could find, from his toes upwards. Nothing hurt until he got to his chest and breathed a bit too deeply. His face scrunched up in pain, and he had to open his eyes, see what kind of hospital he was in. Whether or not they'd won. Whether his sacrifice had been enough to bring the Avengers together in the end. Perhaps he'd overestimated his value to them. Explained why all he could see was the white ceiling and the blue-grey curtains either side of his peripheral vision. There was no hands on him, which was both a relief and a disappointment. And, as he'd noticed when he first woke up, there was the beeping of a heart monitor. Well, he wasn't dead.

Huh. Loki had stabbed him in the chest. He was sure of it. Death wasn't instantaneous. Maybe it would've been better if it had been. Phil didn't know enough about science to say what kind of injury he must have sustained for it not to be immediately fatal, and… apparently curable, considering he was here. Or he'd sinned enough during his lifetime to deserve an eternity of hospital hell. Talk about sadism.

Just in case he was missing anything, he hummed, which set him coughing weakly, and exacerbated the pain in his chest. No one came to his aid, which meant he really was alone. Well, the hospital staff would know if something went wrong with him, and that's all he needed, really. Medical care. He looked around anyway, just in case he had a visitor who was sleeping deeply. It made him giddy, and when his head was back in position he closed his eyes to halt the dizziness.

He must have fallen asleep, because next time he awoke the room was no longer just white, blue, grey, and empty of everyone but him. There were flowers, some obnoxiously big balloons, and a bunch of cards crammed onto any available surfaces. He squinted, and focussed on getting his arms to work. He tried to reach out for a card, but it was too much, and his arm fell back against his side, knocking an empty plastic cup to the floor as well. Deciding that rest was the best medicine, he tried sleep again.

"…third time lucky. Come on, Phil. I swear, you're not alone anymore."

"Shit, this is why hospitals shouldn't have restricted hours on people in ICU!"

"Shh, Tony. This is why we installed a security camera."

"We've missed him twice. Makes me feel like scum. He's gotta wake up soon, right, Bruce?"

"His heart rate has picked up. He's probably gathering energy to stir himself and open his eyes."

Phil considered going back to sleep just to be contrary, but both his hands were occupied, a big one with calluses, a smaller one with sharp nails. He tried not to hope, especially since he hadn't heard her voice, but he couldn't resist peeking to check. After all, she'd kissed him before running off to find Clint while he ran off to get himself stabbed through the heart. Kind of poetic, when he thought about it.

A shock of red hair. When he was able to focus, he noticed that yes, it was Natasha, and Clint was on his other side. He tried to squeeze their hands, but it didn't matter. Banner had noticed he was awake, and sighed in relief.

"Hello, Agent Coulson," he said. "Nice to see you back in the land of the living."

"Good to be…" he tried, but then began coughing. Natasha raised the bed while Clint grabbed a cup from the freezer. Ice chips, then. Joy of joys.

"Here you are, sir," he said.

"Thor said sorry he couldn't make it," Banner continued. "But he left this."

Rogers placed a large envelope on the bed covers over Phil's legs. It went from his knees to the top of his thighs, and he gave Phil a small smile.

"We all signed it," Stark added, shuffling in place. "Pepper's mad at you for nearly dying, by the way. Well, you did die, but not for long."

"I'll try to do better next time," Phil croaked. He accepted more ice chips, and glanced at the card, then up at the captain. "Was that necessary?"

"That's not the last of them," Rogers said, wide-eyed and earnest. Those were his Captain America eyes. Hell. And hello.

"I hope you're not planning on giving me any more," he said. He looked around the room. "Weren't these enough?"

"These were from people at SHIELD," Banner said. "And your apartment neighbours. And the woman at the corner shop who makes those donuts you love, according to Agent Hill. The word must have gotten around in your neighbourhood. I don't know whether there's any from your family…"

"Haven't got one," Phil said. "Only child. Orphan. Parents the same."

There was silence, only broken by Clint returning the rest of the ice chips to the freezer, obviously satisfied that enough of Phil's voice had returned.

"I'm sorry," Natasha said.

"No need."

"Can I… talk to you for a minute?" she said. "Alone?"

At Clint's prodding, the rest of them filed out, until it was just Phil and Natasha. He held up a hand.

"You didn't have to hug me," he said. "Just because we might die."

"And you did die. It took them nearly a minute to get your heart back up and running. It happened twice, and we were there the second time."

"…Oh."

"When I was at the Red Room, we were told that if we met our soulmate, to make them work for it. We were supposed to wait for our soulmate to make the first move."

He stared at her. "I… I was giving you the opportunity to come to me, if you wanted…"

"Which is considerate," she said. "But I wish you hadn't waited."

"Natasha… everyone saw how I felt about you. Feel."

"No, 'felt' is right," she said. "My soulmark's changed, and I'll bet yours has, too."

"Changed?" His stomach dropped. "What?"

"Bruce said that… when a person dies, even if it's not for long, Fate can change her mind. Because we didn't act on… on the words, she… reassigned us. So to speak. My words are the same, but the writing is different. Apparently it's usual. Someone doesn't even have to die, if they take too long, or if there's some big change."

"That's stupid!" He winced at the ache when he tried to sit up, and had to relax back into the pillows. Natasha shook her head.

"I should've seen what everyone else saw," she said. "Then maybe…"

"Forget about fate. You have to know I love you, Natasha. Even without being soulmates. I told you that, remember?"

"Yes, but it's going to be different now. Your soulmate could be anyone you might've met before dying. Your internal system has been reset, to quote Bruce."

He sighed, and squeezed Natasha's hand. "I would've been happy with friendship."

"We can have that. I thought we already did."

"You never made that clear." She bowed her head. "I've gone about this all the wrong way. I'm sorry, Natasha."

"Don't be. We've both made mistakes. We can start again with other people."

"If I don't want to?"

She stood up swiftly. "We don't have a choice."

"Natasha," he tried.

"I'll see you later, Phil. Visiting hours are nearly at an end."

He watched her go, mourning the loss, and wondering how the hell he could move on with someone else. Well, Natasha had never been his in the first place… Damn it, he should've followed everyone's advice. He was paying the price for that now.

No one could ever match up to the way he felt about her.

Could they?

The surprise party was a hell of a lot to take in, and Phil had to sit down only five minutes after it started. People kept coming over to talk to him. It was certainly more extravagant than the one his neighbours had thrown for him, but it had just as much heart, which was the important thing. When Phil needed a break, Clint perched on the sofa behind him and glared away anyone who tried to start a conversation. After Clint left, Steve sat beside Phil.

"I hope this wasn't too much," he said. "I suggested having a party for when you got back, and Tony insisted on… everything getting out of hand."

"Was that necessary?" Phil asked. He was gesturing towards the pile of presents nearby, but Steve was frowning at him. "What is it, Captain?"

"Call me Steve."

"What is—"

"Those were… your first words to me. After you woke up in hospital."

"And…?"

Steve exhaled. "Bucky was my soulmate. My words… word for him was 'Duck!', and his words for me were 'Was that necessary?'. The writing changing recently, which is weird, because I thought it would've disappeared, but then Bruce told me it was the norm for soulmates who've lost their partner in some way. Phil… Natasha told us about the two of you, and how her writing's changed. H-has yours?"

Phil clenched his fists, resting on his knees, and nodded. "Yes. I noticed it yesterday. The same words that Natasha first spoke to me. 'That's not the last of them.'"

"So you think…?"

"You were the one who brought it up, Capt… Steve."

"And if we are soulmates?" he asked, lowering his voice. The music was loud, but half the people in the room were professional spies. Phil pursed his lips while he thought about it.

"I don't want to lose another soulmate," he said. "But I'm aware that our first meeting was…"

"Uncomfortable?"

"To say the least. My behaviour was unprofessional—"

"You made me feel needed in this time," Steve said. "No one else had."

"Steve—"

"Please!" He bit his lower lip and looked down. "Please, Phil. I lost Bucky, I lost Peggy, I lost… everyone. Just… gimme a chance, would ya?"

"As friends?"

Steve glanced away and cleared his throat. "At first. Can't help thinking about where my mark is, what it might mean…"

"You don't think it'd be awkward?" Phil said, now contemplating the placement of his mark, and wondering what possibilities had the captain so bashful.

"Why would it be…?"

"Because of Natasha. Because… she can read lips." He moved his eyes subtly. Natasha was certainly in their line of sight. Not that she was looking when Steve checked – she was too good – but she was tense enough to suggest that she'd been following their hushed conversation.

"I don't wanna make the same mistakes you two did," Steve said.

Phil considered it, and then nodded. It was worth it for Steve's beaming, relieved smile.

Natasha knew that Phil still cared about her, but not the way he used to. One part of her was relieved; he might have been what she needed when she joined SHIELD, and maybe things would've turned out differently if she'd let him in and not spent all her time with Clint; but he was so inherently good and good-natured that she'd feared dragging him down into her darkness. However, the other part of her was pure remorse, that she hadn't seen him giving her control over their relationship, hadn't seen his feelings sooner.

Fate had given up letting someone else help her. She couldn't rely on other people to drag her out of her darkness. Time to stop playing the role of a well-adjusted person, and actually force herself to become that person. Maybe she could even help someone else?

Thoughts like these were a good way to kill time on missions where a lot of sitting around was involved. It was harder when they were all out, and she could see Phil and Steve sitting close together, talking and flirting and completely oblivious to the seventeen times they could have taken care of the tension, this week alone.

"Winter Soldier's on the move," Clint said. They sprang into action, Natasha jumping to the ground below before Steve had even picked up his shield. There were others after the Winter Soldier, reminding her of when Clint and Phil brought her in.

She was engaged with one combatant when she saw a grenade being tossed their way.

"Duck!" she shouted at the Winter Soldier, and she pointed. They both leapt for cover, and there was an explosion. It took awhile after that, as more attackers – were they wearing the HYDRA insignia? – emerged from nearby, some dropped from cloaked planes overhead. Thor and Iron Man did what they could, with Coulson running things from behind the scenes. When one plane was close enough, Clint hit it with an exploding arrow. Natasha took a leaf out of Cap's book, and used a dustbin lid as a shield to protect her from additional bullets while fighting off two more HYDRA agents. Once they were down, she looked around, breathing heavily.

"No additional heat signatures detected," Coulson said, still in full agent mode. "Nothing coming up on cameras. No more movements. Unless they've got a super working for them, it seems we're clear. Bring in the Winter Soldier."

Natasha was the closest, and approached him cautiously. His eyes flicked over her, lingering on the metal shield, and he exhaled shakily.

"I love you," he said.

Then he dropped to his knees, and Steve was somehow there before Natasha, whose mind was all over the place. What just happened?

"Bucky?" he was saying. "Bucky, shit, is that you? Buck?"

"Yeah, punk?" he mumbled, before finally looking Steve in the face. He glanced from Steve to Natasha, rapidly back and forth. "What…? Where am I, St—"

"You're home, Bucky," Steve said, and he hugged him. Natasha heard Phil's quiet gasp over the comms, before he cut his line.

No way was she letting Steve screw this up. She'd already hurt Phil; she wasn't letting him do the same thing. She squatted in front of the Winter Soldier and waited for him to look at her.

"You said my soul words," she said. Steve's head whipped around, and… Barnes frowned.

"You're not… Steve is," he said. Steve winced, and dropped his arms.

"Not anymore," he said. "My mark changed, and I'm bettin' yours did, too."

"But then…"

"I heard Natasha say 'Duck'. That was your soulmark before, and should still be. Just in a different writing."

"Steve…"

"I'm sorry, Bucky. You're still my friend, but I have another soulmate now, and… you've got Natasha. If she's willing." He shot her a sharp look. She stared straight back.

"Don't even, Rogers," she said. "Phil's no longer on the comms. Your unit is still on. He heard you reuniting with your former soulmate. Don't you think you should go find him?"

Steve's eyes widened as she spoke. "Phil… I have to go to him. But Bucky…"

"I'll stay with him," she said. "He needs me at the moment. I can help him. Phil needs you to reassure him that you're not going to leave him for Barnes."

"Yeah, go on," Bucky said, pushing him weakly. "Let the dame look after me."

Steve paused, and then ran off, clipping his shield on his back as he went. Natasha helped Barnes stand up.

"Are you hurt?" she asked. He nodded. "Let's get you to medical."

"They'll hurt me."

"They won't."

He frowned, looking her up and down again. "We've met?"

"A long time ago." She wasn't going into her history with the Red Room in public. "I'll tell you later."

"But… Steve… How do I…?"

"Move on from him?" He nodded, his eyes betraying his anguish. "I don't know. I had to move on from Phil. But I was never bonded to him."

"We weren't, either. I didn't want to. Kept thinkin' he'd die. Didn't…" He shook his head as Natasha helped him into their medical van. Bruce was resting on one of the two beds, and one eye cracked open as Barnes sat opposite.

"We both failed them," she said. "They have each other, and we're not ruining that for them. If you don't want me, then that's… But if you do, we're going to be smart about it. Is that understood?"

"I…"

She softened. "We'll talk about that later, as well."

"Don't build up too many yesterdays," Bruce muttered, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. "Okay. What've we got?"

"You have to know that it's over," Steve said. Phil had been busily packing up the scanning equipment, and was trying to shove the case into the trunk of his Corvette.

"He was your best friend," Phil said, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. "I know that you loved him. He's alive, so… that changes things. Y-you can go back to him, bond again—"

"We never bonded before," Steve said, grabbing Phil's wrist as he huffed. "Phil, for God's sake, what would you do? Go back to Natasha? You still love her."

"Like a friend," Phil said. "I learnt how to let go."

"And you think I didn't have to learn that seventy years ago, and then after my mark changed because of you?"

"I'm sorry, Steve."

"No, don't be sorry!" He yanked Phil close. "Look, I have to help Bucky, if he lets me. But that changes nothing between us, Phil."

"Is there anything between us?"

"You know there is." Then he was kissing Phil without warning, like a starving man, and Phil felt himself being pushed up against Lola. He wound his fingers into Steve's hair, pulled him closer, tilted his head as he deepened the kiss and swallowed Steve's growl.

"Okay," he conceded when Steve finally let him breathe again. "Something between us."

"At the moment that something is clothes," Steve said. "Only one kinda debriefing on my mind at the moment, the kind done in private."

"Aren't we moving a bit f—"

"If we were movin' any slower turtles'd be overtakin' us."

"Cap, your comm. unit is still on," Clint said. Steve scowled up at Clint's last known position, and switched off his unit.

"Damn it, Phil, I wanna bond with you," Steve said. "I was gonna ask you about it over dinner tomorrow, and then Natasha made me realise I could lose you. Not riskin' that. Already lost my chance with Bucky. You're the second chance I might never get again."

Phil pecked him gently on the nose. "Alright. Let's get back to the tower."

"My quarters. The bed's reinforced."

He blushed.

Sorry, my overseas friends, but ZOMGPONIES! Mum and I saw Age of Ultron today, and everything has been Jossed! I won't give any details away, although I'll warn for any spoilers in future chapters. It was the first Marvel film my mother had seen at the cinemas. I wore Iron Man socks, an Avengers shirt, and an Avengers cap. And I took my Avengers water bottle. Hope that wasn't overkill.

Please review!