Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Rating: T, just to make sure.
Pairing: Clint/Phil
Warning: Uhm, lots of emotions. Yep, even SHIELD Agents have emotions :p, mentioning of suicide and Phil's death by Loki, fix-it, happy end.
A./N.: The idea got in the way and I had to write it down. I don't know why I wrote a fix-it story again, even though I have to say I like reading fix-it stories. Maybe that's the reason.
I hope I can continue with forming a bond without disrupting ideas, or else I have to write a few more one shots.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"We are a really good team," Tony praised. He was dead tired after the fight and his near death but it had to be said.
Bruce hummed in agreement and so did Natasha.
"We should continue working together," Cap stretched his back. Hearing his joints pop.
"Only when Coulson joins us." Clint wiped a few remaining bread crumbs from his vest.
The team became deadly silent, "What?" He looked around in confusion.
"Let's go outside," Steve dragged him out of the restaurant. Tony paid their bill before they all followed Clint and Cap.
"Hey, we should take a walk," Tony said in a faked cheerful tone.
"Natasha," Clint warned. "Where is he?"
"Busy." She lied with less ease than was normal for her. She was used to deliver bad news but in this case she couldn't. She couldn't tell her best friend that his husband died by the hand of Loki while he was mind controlled and led them into the helicarrier.
"Natasha," he hollered. Looking right through her act. "Where is he?"
"He died as a hero," Tony placed a hand on the archer's shoulder. "He's the real hero here."
Clint remained silent, his body tensed and he clenched his hands into fists.
"Clint," she stepped closer. "He tried to stop Loki, ..., and he stabbed him, through the heart with his spear."
"Busy, huh?" He was angry beyond words. She had lied to him, she kept Phil's death a secret. "When did you intend to tell me that?"
Never, "I...," there was nothing she could say.
"Clint," Steve said in a fatherly tone. "Natasha told us that you worked with him for years. I understand that you're in pain and there's nothing we can say or do to make you feel better but his death was not useless. He sacrificed his life for the sake of many."
"You're right. There is nothing you can say to make it alright." Clint lowered his gaze and walked away.
"I thought he knew." Bruce watched the young man go.
"I have to go," Natasha followed her friend back to base.
:::::::::::::::
"Agent Barton," Fury gave him a nod. "I'm more than satisfied how you handled the 'Alien incident'." He directed at the Avengers.
"Thank you, sir." Rogers said polite but his heart wasn't in it.
"What do you want from us? Why are we here?" Tony asked. He didn't like the helicarrier much.
"I want to assign Agent Romanoff and Barton to your little initiative, in case you want to continue." Fury played his cards well.
"I don't know," Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.
"We can help society. We can make a difference." Tony was sure it was a good thing but working with S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't something he was looking forward to.
"I think we should give it a try," Steve confirmed.
"Romanoff?" Fury waited for her answer.
"I'm in." She would do anything to escape S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while.
"Barton?"
Clint stared at the table, lost in his own thoughts.
"Barton?"
The archer looked up at his boss with empty eyes, not saying a single word.
"Psych department is waiting for you. You will join them after they cleared you for duty. Do you understand?"
Still no reaction.
Fury frowned, "That's for you." He took out the necklace he carried around in his pocket.
Clint took the necklace and held on tight. Squeezing it in his fist. The necklace made it final. His husband was dead and all he had left was the platinum wedding ring, dangling on the silver necklace.
Dead. Gone. Forever.
I love you Clint. Wait for me. I get you back. Flashbacks haunted his mind.
Phil was one of many good people he got killed during his time as Loki's marionette.
Barton got up and left the room.
Natasha was the first who followed him to flight deck. The helicarrier was still in the air hovering around 100 feet over the Hudson river.
Clint stood close to the edge, necklace still in a tight grasp.
"Agent Barton," Fury ran. "Come back over here."
Clint stared at Natasha, memorizing her face before he spread his arms and let himself fall off of the flight deck.
Tony didn't wear his armor and couldn't save him. Thor was too stunned to react, after he got a grip on himself it was already too late.
Natasha stared at the empty spot where Clint had stood a moment ago, "NOOOO." She screamed after the first wave of shock abated.
Nick sent out a search party but without result. There was no body to retrieve. Mother nature must have carried his corpse to a place they could not reach.
"You killed him," Natasha raged. "You took them away from me."
Bruce who had transformed back to Dr. Banner a moment ago took her into a tight embrace to safe her from herself.
"It was his own choice." Guilt gnawed on his heart like a starved dog.
"You should have locked him up in medical, you should have told him about Phil's demise, ...," she struggled against Bruce's strong grip. "I quit."
Fury gave her a glare, every word hit home and made him feel even more shabby, "Resignation denied." He turned around and left.
"Come with us," Tony offered. Eyes suspiciously wet. "We take care of you."
"Natasha?" Bruce whispered into her ear. "Come with me."
She took a shaky breath turning around in Bruce's arms and did something she rarely did.
She hugged him and wept bitter tears.
:::::::::::::::::
A month had passed since Phil's and Clint's untimely deaths. It was still affecting the team and especially Natasha. She found a companion and caring lover in the constantly angry scientist but the loss of her friends overshadowed their new found love. She had no one to share her joy with. Sometimes she could hear Clint in her mind, teasing her.
"Unauthorized visitor," Jarvis informed them.
"Let him in," Tony ordered. One person was no match for a bunch of heroes.
"Agent?" Stark dropped the mug he was holding.
They stared at the man in front of them.
"Who are you?" Steve was ready to beat the stuffing out of the man.
"Coulson," he deadpanned. "Fury informed me this morning that he told you that I died." Phil leaned against the doorframe. He was still weak and the trip to Stark Tower wore him out.
"Are you real?" Tony ordered Jarvis to check the story. The AI confirmed Coulson's version of the events.
"Son of a bitch," Stark cursed. "He let us believe you died just to win the fight."
"I'm glad you're alive." Steve said honestly. "Welcome back."
Phil ignored them and focused his attention on Natasha, "Where is he?"
"Away." She replied. "Fury sent him on a mission."
"He would never leave my side." Phil yelled at her, "Nick tried the same lie and I squeezed half of the truth out of him. He thinks I'm dead, otherwise he would have spent his time in the vents. Where is he?"
"On a mission." They gave her confused looks. She never spoke about Coulson and Barton after their 'deaths'. Their names were taboo in the mansion.
"Natalia Alianovna Romanova," she flinched at her give name. "Where is my husband?"
His outburst was followed by silence, the word husband lingered heavily in the air.
Her facade cracked under Phil's desperation.
"Tasha, where is he?" He repeated softly, breaking down her wall.
She closed her eyes, swallowing hard. "He threw himself off of the helicarrier. There is no body to bury."
The statement brought the stoic agent to his knees, he held his injured side. The pain Clint's loss caused in his heart was by far worse than the physical wound Loki inflicted.
He escaped medical to see his beloved husband just to learn that he took his own life.
Tears found their way down his cheeks. Clint was gone. He tried so hard to survive, and what for? For nothing.
Nothing was left. Phil took a few deep breaths, "When?" He choked out.
"The day after you died." Steve spoke softly, not sure how to act.
"He should have seen this coming." Coulson told himself.
"Who?" Steve decided to try his luck and took the broken agent into his arms.
"Fury." Nick failed them. He failed them all. His lie doomed them all. "I kill him."
Phil got up, the pain was unbearable but he didn't care. "It was nice seeing you again." He turned around to leave, leaving Steve's gentle embrace.
"Stay." Tony blurted out, "Stay with us."
Phil stopped for a moment, "I can't."
"Please," Natasha found her voice again. "Don't leave me."
That got through his pain fogged mind, "Tasha?"
"Don't leave me again. I beg you, stay."
He thought about it. Where would he go? There was no one waiting at home anymore. Awaiting him with a bright smile and delicious meal. Taking away his burdens while he held him through the night.
The friendship Tony offered was all he had left in the world and he could at least try to hold on to the lifeline they're throwing at him.
Natasha took his hand and guided him to one of the many spare rooms in the tower.
"I hire a doctor," Tony opened his tablet and browsed through information about the best doctors in the city.
"Do that," Steve nodded. It pained him to see the famous Agent Coulson like this.
The worst part of it was that there was nothing they could do to make him feel better.
Nothing could right the wrong.
"Director Fury asks to enter the building." Even Jarvis's voice carried a hint of anger.
Bruce's skin glimmered green for a moment while Rogers shattered the glass he held in his hand.
"We are waiting," Tony's gaze darkened.
"Have you seen one of my agents?" The director asked.
"The dead one you mean? Yeah, he was here."
"Where is he now?"
"Not your god damn business," Tony hissed. "I lured him away and he's now our very own handler. Sorry, but you have to find a new one."
"It was necessary." Nick was still convinced that the lie was justified.
"Get out of here," Phil cocked his gun.
"Hear me out."
"No, you talked enough. You talked him into believing that I'm dead. Have you any idea how he must have felt? You know him! How could you! He needed you, he needed your help and you haven't lifted a finger to save him."
"'Believe me or not but I am sorry. I like the kid, you know that. I had the wrong priorities. I thought he survives until I find the time to help." He was sorry. Clint was a good agent and a friend. Nick was Phil's best man.
"He trusted you." The sadness in his senior agent's voice broke his heart.
"It was your plan," Nick reminded him.
"You know damn well I never meant 'this'. Yeah, tell my husband I died so he can save the world while I'm all alone in a hospital bed, that's so you." Phil hated his friend with passion right now.
"It was his choice."
"Give me one reason not to shoot you." No one would stop him.
"I can't." Fury had to pray for Phil's mercy.
"I quit, and I don't want to see you ever again." Coulson lowered his weapon.
"You're always welcome," Nick said gently. "You're part of S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Not anymore," not without Clint.
Fury nodded and fled with dignity before the others got a chance to hurt him.
"Give me the gun," Natasha reached out to take the gun from his hand. Not liking the look on his face, the burning question in his eyes, what holds me here?
"I don't need a gun," he simply said before he walked over to the huge window. Placing a hand on its cold surface.
"He would have loved the view." Natasha hid the gun under the cushion of one of the overstuffed chairs. Not the best idea she ever had but it had to be enough for a while.
Phil sighed deeply, "He loves heights, I prefer the ground but he, he needs it to feel free." He wasn't surprised he chose to die flying.
Tony made a mental not to seal all doors leading to the roof or balconies as well as the firing range.
:::::::::::::::::
"That was close," Tony inspected his armor. Three huge claw marks decorated the front, barely missing the arc reactor.
"I start to hate von Doom," Steve inspected his torn uniform.
Bruce just shrugged, he was the Hulk after all.
"Are you alright?" Natasha studied her handler, he had paled visibly within seconds.
"That's ...," Coulson looked around. He knew that voice, "Clint?" He began to run.
"Shit," Tony cussed while they followed the agent. He was sure Coulson went insane, slowly but steady.
Phil stopped in front of a homeless young man, who earned some cash with singing. His beard concealed most of his face but Phil knew it, he knew this was his husband. His voice and pretty eyes gave him away.
"Clint," Phil reached out. The man's eyes were blank, there was no hint of recognition.
"Time to go?" The man asked but more himself than Phil.
The ghost of his husband haunted him for weeks, since he jumped off the damn ship. It was time to move again. Staying at the same place for too long wasn't safe.
"Clint is it you?" Natasha hesitated.
He gave her a smile, he didn't understand what she was saying but she seemed real. They found him, not that he tried very hard to hide.
He decided to go home, to his home before he met Coulson, before he joined S.H.I.E.L.D., before he got his heart shattered. Clint had promised his husband not to kill himself so he didn't. He took his emergency passport, no one knew about it, and his husbands ring and jumped into a new life, or into a long forgotten one depends on how you look at it.
Sometimes he wished he had.
Some days were rough, he saw and heard Phil everywhere he went. He tore out his hearing aids weeks ago to stop the voice but he heard him anyway.
"Come with us," Steve smiled at his young friend.
Phil flung himself at Clint, holding him tight while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
The archer didn't react to it, it wasn't the first time Phil's ghost held him but it was the first time it felt so real though.
They led him to Stark Tower and dragged him under the shower. Natasha shaved him while Phil kept him warm, hugging him from behind. Clint wore a thick bathrobe over his jeans and shirt but it didn't stop him shiver.
"You're home, you're not alone," Phil murmured. He was so unbelievable happy to have his archer back.
Clint stared into the mirror, ignoring Natasha and the ghost of the past.
"Two guns, three knifes, brass knuckles and this, ...," Tony held up the necklace with the wedding band. They examined Clint's belongings while the agents cared for him.
"Aaron Kitsom," Steve waved with Clint's passport. "He's good, I'm sure not even S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about his alias."
"But why back alleys?" Bruce sniffed in disgust, the stench was disgusting. "I'm sure he has enough money to buy a pretty house somewhere in the middle of nowhere."
"That's where he comes from," Phil led Clint to the huge couch. Natasha prepared the cocoa.
Cap took in a sharp breath, "A street kid?"
"Orphan, carny, homeless, assassin." He forced Clint to lie down with his head in Phil's lap.
The archer tensed before he relaxed and leaned into the source of warmth. Phil caressed his arm while Clint stared into nothing.
"Clint," Tony tried to get the archer's attention. "Barton!" He said louder.
Phil brushed a strand of hair away from Clint's ear to get a look. Clint got up like a flash, getting away from the unwanted touch. His damaged hearing was a sensitive topic.
It's not fair, stop haunting me, leave me be, leave me be...
He stared at his dead husband, oh how he wished the man in front of him was real.
Clint looked around the room, focusing on the air vent above the dining table.
"Stop him," Phil and Nat yelled in unison but too late. Clint ran, jumped on top of the table, pushed the grit aside and lifted himself up.
"Jarvis," Tony ordered, "find him."
"He's on his way to the roof," the AI replied.
Tony got into his armor, just in case, while the others headed for the roof.
"Clint," Natasha gasped. Clint stood way to close to the edge.
The sky was grey, releasing the first flakes of snow sounding the bell for the last season of the year.
Clint could see them in the shadows. The homeless, children and adults alike. Hiding in dark alleys right next to the upper class buildings, like Stark Tower. Out of sight but still there. Fighting for survival, for food, for safety or just not to freeze in the cold.
Alone, forgotten, unimportant.
To all their surprise the archer began to sing, singing helped him forget for a while.
He got the tunes right even though he couldn't hear himself, he was used to sing familiar songs without hearing aids.
Phil tried hard not to cry, his lover wasn't aware of their presence. He used to know such things, he always knew who was around him. It broke Coulson's heart.
Clint balanced along the edge, his sense of balance was even with damaged ears flawless.
And a hungry little boy with a running nose So he starts to roam the streets at night,
Plays in the street as the cold wind blows
In the ghetto
And his hunger burns.
And he learns how to steal and he learns how to fight
In the ghetto
Then one night in desperation the young man breaks away,
He buys a gun, he steals a car,
He tries to run, but he don't get far
and his mama cries,
As the crowd gathers round an angry young man
face down in the street with a gun in his hand
In the ghetto.
And as her young man died
On a cold and grey Chicago morning
Another little baby child is born
In the ghetto,
(A./N.:" In the Ghetto" by Elvis Presley, I don't own it)
The next song was just as heartbreaking, Phil knew the song. It was one of Clint's favorites.
Believe by Hollywood undead. Phil hated the song, because it reminded him of Clint's past. No home, always on the run, no help. What hurt most was that Clint was exactly in the same spot where he had been so many years before. (A./N.: "Believe" belongs to Hollywood Undead)
If I went out the back door nobody would stop me
But where would I go?
Cause I ain't never had a real home
So what do I know?
So I could keep running, hiding till they find me
But what would that do?
If they could only know what I knew
What would it prove?
I should've seen the writing on the wall
Instead I'm left to fall
Cause the longer I'm away
The more we stay the same
Looking back where I thought I knew it all
Instead I'm left to fall
Did I throw it all away?
Phil had had enough and stormed in Clint's direction, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away from the edge.
"Listen and listen carefully," Phil pronounced every word. Clint was able to read lips.
"I'm real, we all are! Don't do that to yourself, to us. Fury lied, he screwed up big time. Come back to me wherever you are. " Barton was obviously lost in his own mind but Phil was determined to bring him back.
Clint gave Phil a loving glance, briefly stroking his lover's cheek on his way back inside. Leaving his friends behind in the cold.
Phil hated himself for his next move but it was necessary. He called Nick, explaining what happened and demanding help.
One hour later they sat in S.H.I.E.L.D. medical, waiting for news.
"Phil," Nick had twisted feelings about coming down to medical but he owed them. It was his fault after all.
"He went insane," Phil stared at his hands.
"Not the first time an agent goes nuts," the older man took a seat next to Coulson.
"He doesn't notice us. Or he does but doesn't care."
"Stop rambling, it's not like you." It pained him to hear his friend struggle for words.
"Being an asshole is so like you," Phil clenched his fists. He fought against the urge to lash out.
Therefore Natasha socked him one, "That's for Clint." She kicked him in the nuts, "That's for Phil," before she wrapped a slender hand around his neck, "next time I let him kill you."
Fury's eyes widened slightly, noticing the blade in Phil's hand for the first time.
"Copy that." Nick was too well trained to let his calm demeanor drop but his heart rate was less than healthy.
"Coulson we might need him later," Steve reached out for the blade.
Phil gave his childhood hero the sharp blade, wasn't the only blade he hid anyway.
"Pretty," he turned the silver knife around in his hands.
"Birthday present from Clint," that was two years ago. Therefore he gave his archer a matching set for valentine's day.
"Coulson," a woman in her sixties called out.
Phil got up, "How is he?"
She raised a brow at his rudeness but let it slip, "He's asleep. We try meds and therapy and ith some luck he will return to his old shiny self."
"You never worked with him before," Phil deadpanned. He didn't know her at all and she wouldn't describe his future condition as shiny self if she had.
"No, I'm specialized in trauma-therapy." She fidgeted nervously. Coulson was able to make every psychiatrist very, very uncomfortable due to a simple stare.
"I want to see him," Phil demanded.
Control freak, she thought. "Follow me."
"Hey love, how are you?" Phil dragged a chair next to Clint's bed.
Clint looked at Coulson, sighing softly. "It's time for you to go."
"Where should I go?"
"Heaven," Clint said so gently that Phil almost missed his words.
"Why should I do that?" Tears threatened to spill any moment.
"It's time for you to rest, you deserve your peace after all you've done for the world. I don't begrudge you your peace. It's okay, I understand. It's time to let go."
"I won't let go, never." Phil clenched his jaw, fighting against his inner demons. "I'm real," he took Clint's hand into his own.
Clint smiled sadly, "You always say that and then you're gone. It's truly okay to leave me, there's nothing left for you on earth. Just wait for me."
Phil's resolve broke under Clint's heartbreaking sad gaze. "I'm real," he cried. Placing Clint's hand above his heart. "Can you feel it beat? It beats for you. I fought for you." Phil opened his shirt, revealing a huge ugly scar. "I survived. It was all a lie. You know Fury is a liar. You have always believed in me, I beg you believe me one more time. Just one more time."
Clint wiped Phil's tears away with a frown. His fingers felt wet and glittered wetly in the light.
"Phil?" He placed his hand against Phil's chest again. He closed his eyes while he felt the strong heartbeat beneath his hand.
"I'm here," Phil settled down on the bed next to Clint, whispering into his ear. "I'm not going anywhere."
Barton snuggled closer into the warm embrace. The man smelled like Phil, he felt like Phil and he talked exactly like Phil whenever they were alone.
Was his mind playing tricks on him again? Or was the man next to him real?
"Phil," Clint let go of his emotions and wept against Phil's chest.
"I'm here," he stroke his lover's head. "I'm here."
The archer fell asleep in his beloved agent's arms.
:::::::::::::::::::
Time went by and Clint was more aware of his surroundings.
Tony and Bruce designed new hearing aids for their teammate while Natasha, Steve and Clint kept the archer company.
He was never alone.
The room was warm and full of life. Flowers, visitors and a Stark entertainment system. T.V., surround sound and all.
"I think you are real," Clint told him one day after their friends left. "They talk to you and you answer. Doctor Shioban says you're real and Nick came by this morning while you went to the mess hall, at least that's what you said. Nick says he lied, he says he's sorry and he left video footage but I don't want to watch it alone. What if I see you die and all they say is a lie, or a dream."
Phil felt like crying, "Oh, I am real. I'll prove it to you." The agent inserted the DVD and pressed play.
Clint clung to his handler's hand while he watched Phil die, the medics fought for his life and were able to reanimate him. He went into surgery, and woke up in a sterile white room surrounded by machines. Phil woke up a week after he got stabbed, if the date on the screen was correct. Nick was his only visitor, they talked about the war, about Loki, about Clint. They talked a lot about Clint.
Phil wasn't happy with Nick.
"Do you believe me now?" Phil kissed his lover's temple.
A small smile graced the archer's lips, "You're real."
"I'm real," Coulson smiled in return. "Let me show you how real I am," he winked.
"You are real; naughty old man." Pure joy radiated from Clint, "I pray to god I don't dream all this."
"No such luck. You're stuck with me." Phil pulled Clint into a heated kiss to take his lover's last doubts.
The kiss left Clint breathless, "I missed you." The smile vanished, replaced by desperation.
"I missed you."
"God I missed you," he wrapped his arms around his lover.
"They told me you died," Phil confessed for the first time. "They said you jumped and died. The weeks, months, without you were sheer horror. Nothing will part us ever again."
"You thought I died?"
Coulson nodded.
"But I promised not to," he never broke his promises.
"That you did, ten years ago." They weren't married at that time.
"I don't break promises." Clint caressed Phil's cheek, "So no heaven?"
"Heaven is where you are," Phil pressed their foreheads together. "Home is where you are."
The End