brandingproblem | open post

The aftermath isn't pretty.

He skates by pretty well between Natasha's help (and helping Natasha), focusing on the job, trying to mesh with this team, trying to save the day. He raids some of Stark's liquor when some of the others escort the problem child of the Odinson family away to share quiet commiseration with Natasha, too. There's the absolute exhaustion that sets in when Stark comms them all to say he's found a shawarma place that's still willing to serve food in spite of the damage. There's falling back somewhere safe and sound for a god damn shower and a change of clothes while people debate what happens to said problem child and the cube, whose jurisdiction does all that fall under, and those are arguments that are over his head and he wants no part of.

Mostly what he wants is to crawl into a deep dark hole for a solid week. He figures he'll come out of that looking worse for wear, but able to get back to work without too much problem. This will not, of course, be allowed. Not by Nat, not by Fury, and definitely not by Coulson.

Coulson who's still in medical under intensive care.

But at least it means he's alive.

No, no hole for Clint. Fury generously gives them all some time to themselves, gather to bid the god and his shitty little brother farewell, get their heads on in a way that resembles straight, and then it's the debriefs. Clint hasn't been looking forward to this part. Technically, he and Nat are the only SHIELD agents, and Rogers is...well, if Clint were feeling not terribly generous, he'd say property, and it means they're the only ones absolutely required to come in and do the whole familiar shebang.

There's a nasty, unavoidable hitch with Clint. Of course. Because agency being stripped away and minds being altered and causing a lot of damage and gathering up a lot of SHIELD's enemies are all things that can't just be neatly swept under the rug. It's questions, and it's tests, and it's questions and tests and questions and tests and he barely keeps track of the days that pass while trying to determine if he's a threat, if there's still some part inside his brain that didn't get shaken loose that's ready to obey a different master, and by the time Coulson can have visitors, he feels like he's been turned inside out, and by the time Coulson's ready to get moved out of a medical room and back to his own bed, he's too ashamed and exhausted and raw.

Even if his own bed feels way too big and empty.

Eventually Natasha, either because she's a good friend like that, or at Coulson's behest, tells him to go see his fucking boyfriend. It's practically an order. Clint says he wants to wait until Coulson is better, and that gets her downright pissed and makes a very nasty threat that has a 50/50 shot of actually happening if he doesn't get his ass up and moving.

Honestly, it's a good way to try and get him going. Instead of stuck in place, circling and circling and circling. She's good at dislodging thoughts like that.

So is Coulson.

The thought of the man gets his chest tight, but Clint gets up, he moves, he ignores any and all looks he gets, uses the freedom he has to go...finally pay a visit. Why does it feel like going to an execution?

It's the glint of a reflection in the round plexi-steel glass of Thor's cage that saves Phil's life. A little glimmer that's not supposed to be there. That tiny thing keeps Loki from slicing his heart in half. Phil feigns to the side and the scepter slices his chest open along the side and ribs. It's a life threatening injury but it's not a life ending one.

Well, not permanently. He's technically dead for eight seconds during his first surgery. The doctors bring him back though. Phil Coulson has a lot to live form.

The days in a HUB medical facility blur together. Phil loses a lot of time after his surgeries in a drugged stupor. When he's sensible enough to remember what he says and what people say to him he demands to know the condition of his agents. Of Clint. It's easier for him to stay bound in a hospital bed when he knows Clint his alive. The Avengers saved the world. It's good news but the best news is Clint's free and alive.

The knowledge that Clint's waiting for him is enough to make Phil be a good patient. He hates medical almost as much as his favorite agents but he hides it better.

It takes entirely too long to heal enough to be moved back to his own place and then it's depressingly empty.

There are lingering signs of their shared life. Clint's hoodie left on the back of a chair. A second set of hearing aids. But it's clear the man himself as not been here and hasn't been here in quite some time. Of course, he's just as bad as his missing boyfriend.

Phil doesn't call. Doesn't pressure Clint. He hobbles around his apartment, trying to do as much as he can but even getting dressed is a long and arduous battle. Phil keeps the pain on a dull edge with painkillers but he never takes the prescribed amount. He hates falling asleep on the couch.

Fury tells him to stop working but Phil has a tablet and keeps trying to stick his nose in on the recovery, repair, and rebuilding efforts.

Until there's a knock on his door. "One minute," Phil calls because it takes him a long time to get up from the couch. He has to spend a few seconds catching his breath after, pressing a hand against his side.

"Clint." He can't help the pleased relief in his voice when he opens the door. He's reaching for him before he can think better of it and pulls him into a hug.

It takes too long. That's the thought that starts panic-racing through his mind. It takes too long which means Phil's in pain and Phil's alone and he's making his fucking boyfriend put in too much effort because he's too chickenshit to just pick the lock. (There's been a quietly ongoing conversation about giving him a key. Now he's regretting waffling on that.)

He's really thinking about it, too, just jimmying the lock open and saving them both some effort, but Phil makes it to the door and is so--so pleased, so relieved, and already hugging him before Clint can actually process Phil being alive and on the way to well.

So a funny thing happens when you turn traitor even temporarily, and it's that you turn into a pariah and a leper and nobody really wants to do a whole lot of interacting with you until you're cleared. The most touch he's gotten outside of Natasha has been docs running their tests, taking down numbers, poking and prodding and sticking leads on him and prepping him for so many brain scans he wonders if he won't be getting Hulk-y soon enough.

Has he frozen? He might have frozen. He makes himself crack the ice and put his god damn arms around his god damn boyfriend that he hasn't seen since before something poked its fingers into his brain and wrapped around his heart. The man's alive. And even up and about. That's worth celebrating with a hug.

"Hi, Phil." A little strained. Should he be here? Should he just make an excuse to get his things? Shit, no, then that sounds like a breakup...

Phil's hands are shaking. He grips Clint's jacket tighter trying to control it. The last he saw of his boyfriend was the New Mexico base collapsing. He believed Clint inside and gone until he emerged on security cameras. He was still gone but Clint was alive. Phil did not want a world without Clint Barton in it. Now, he has him back and God, it's the best feeling in the world.

"You ever do that to me again, Clint, I will kill you myself." There's so much emotion in Phil's voice. It's shaking too. This has always been a possibility in their relationship. Accepting it as a reality though had been harder than Phil expected.

Phil pulls him into his apartment and finally lets him go. Not much. He keeps his hands on Clint's biceps and looks him over. He looks like shit. He looks worse than Phil feels. Natasha's update texts have underplayed Clint's condition. Probably to keep him from marching over there to make Clint take care of himself.

"Let me get coffee started." Because he assumes Clint is staying. He has to stay now that he's finally crossed that bridge and come to him.

Oh. Oh it's bad. He's seen Phil hurt before, sure. Just part and parcel to being an agent; you're gonna get the shit kicked out of you. But it's the emotional side that catches him so off guard. Phil's method of emoting and expressing tends to be very calm, centered. Clint learned to look for the small things. The way he smiles, or the tone of a single word in a sentence.

Sure, there's big expressions, too. Sometimes. But usually in more extreme cases. He lets the guard down around Clint, when it's just them, but he's still typically the straitlaced calm cool collected one.

And he's gotten Phil down to fucking shaking.

"Don't--you don't have to go through the effort. I probably shouldn't stay too long." Is anyone truly going to care right now? He's been given enough freedom to go out without having someone up his ass (there's a tail, at a respectable distance, so he hasn't bothered shaking it), to see a guy his no-longer-boss tried to kill, so if this is a test, it's a really shitty one. But it still feels...wrong? Unwise? To stick around.

"My handlers--uh. The people responsible for me while you're..." Indisposed? Recovering from almost dying? "On sick leave." Nailed it. "Probably won't want me away too long. I just figured I'd..."

Is that disingenuous? Maybe he should be more open. "Did you send Natasha after me, or did she kick my ass of her own accord?"

"I don't care what SHIELD wants for you." Phil's tone says he's not going to take no for an answer. Their relationship has been a careful balance but the scales just got tipped very firmly into the personal first. Work can take a fucking hike.

He moves to the kitchen and fully expects Clint to follow him. Many things have been moved down from the cabinets and are on the counter so they're easier for Phil to reach.

"I sent her after you the moment Loki took you," Phil says as he carefully moves around the kitchen, cautious and slow. "I called her in from her mission. Fury wouldn't let me go after you myself."

Because he was emotionally compromised even if Phil didn't let it show. His oldest friend would know how much worry gnawed at him. At least his hands are steady again. Phil himself doesn't feel steady.

"...I meant now. Recently. To tell me to...right, I'll take that as an 'of her own accord'." Because, wow, it doesn't sound great, does it? To be told to go see the person you care about most. Like it's a chore.

He stands there watching for just a few moments longer before he steps in. "Let me do it. Go sit. I'm not gonna be the reason you strain yourself any more than absolutely necessary."

Phil doesn't want to let Clint out of his sight. If he does, he might vanish into thin air and be gone. He's so tired of Clint being gone from him.

He does stop making coffee and moves to the side so that Clint can take over but he doesn't leave the kitchen to go sit down. Is he hovering? Absolutely. He wants to. Needs to. SHIELD can run all their tests but he knows Clint better than anyone. He'll know if there's anything wrong with Clint.

"Natasha was keeping me updated on you since I got back," he admits. "I knew you needed space but I wanted to watch out for you too."

Phil doesn't go sit. It's like he's standing watch. And even with his back turned, maybe taking a little more care with the coffee machine than necessary, Clint feels it like an itch up his spine. Always being watched.

"Those must've been fun conversations." His hands grip the counter. "They're mostly pretty sure I don't have an alien anything going on in my head. But, you know. Dotting every t, crossing every i. Feels like some new tests got invented just for this, so, go scientific progress."

"Do you want it to stop?"

Because Phil will make that happen. He can leverage what happened to him to get Clint out of the hands of doctors and scientists who are probably prying his skull open and poking around.

Phil's not going to stop watching out for Clint. He is trying very hard not to cling or smother Clint even though that's exactly what he wants. It's been so damn lonely.

"...It's important. To be sure."

Of course he wants it to stop. He didn't want it to start in the first place. It fucking sucks, but if it gets him fully cleared and back in the game and resting easy knowing that as far as anyone is concerned, he's just a regular kind of crazy and not a serial killing puppet kind of crazy.

"I'm sorry." He has to keep himself from wincing when he says it. "That I didn't see you sooner."

Yes, it was. For SHIELD and for Clint as well but Phil sees him suffering from it and he wants it to stop. His crankiness is partially his desire to protect Clint and his own pain. He's tired and mad at a lot of different things at once.

"If you need it to stop tell me." And Phil will make it stop.

He reaches out and squeezes Clint's wrist. "You always come back to me eventually."

It was hard to be patient this time but once again, his faith in Clint isn't misplaced. He's here. He's free. He's free of Loki. Phil can breathe easier now.

"I've put up with it for this long; a little longer won't kill me. Better than after it first happened, so. Couple more freedoms at a time."

Like it's no big deal. It's fine. He definitely doesn't startle at the touch to his wrist or anything. Because he's perfectly fine. His eyes snap to Phil, and he forces himself to relax.

"Should you even be up? I got this. Go, sit. I'll do whatever you need me to."

They're both such a wreck after Loki. Phil wishes he could get some modicum of justice but all of that is in Asgard's hands. He's not sure if they'll be merciful or not. Thor did still love his brother.

He takes a deep breath which only catches slightly and then lets it out slowly. His touch turns gentler and he rubs his thumb along Clint's forearm for a second before he lets go.

"I can be up with limited physical activity. I'm seeing my physical therapist regularly and listening to medical advice." Mostly listening. Phil hates the drugs and how they make him sluggish and stupid but he takes them when he really needs them.

That his pain tolerance is completely skewed from his work is irrelevant.

"I promise, I'm not going to fall over if you touch me," he says softly.

"Yeah, actually taking medical advice?" Clint softens, just a hair, with a smirk. "How's it feel to be on the other side, huh? I'll be the one hounding you to take care of yourself and you'll see how you like it."

Certainly they've had this talk lots of times, with Clint being the one hurt and Phil being the pestering one. He'll take whatever little gratification he can. Because when Phil gets soft, it aches.

"Is that something you need?" Being touched.

It sounds very nice, actually, because it means Clint will be around to nag him.

"I need less distance between us," Phil answers honestly. "I know you're not okay and I won't expect you to keep me company all the time but an hour or two. Have dinner with me. Just so I know you're still here."

Because for a long time Phil's world did not have Clint in it and he had to make plans not just for that world but how to take Clint out. It brought a new perspective to their relationship and Phil's feelings.

His heart feels like it leaps into his throat, and he has to swallow it back down as Phil goes on so that he can have some semblance of being collected when he formulates some kind of response.

"You're not exactly fine, either. I know this can't have been easy for you, and I'm not talking about getting stabbed." He huffs out a breath. "But I'm back, and I'm here. Even if it took me too long to check in on you myself."

"I'm alive."

Which feels like a miracle. Loki meant to stab him through the chest. Loki meant to kill him. Sometimes Phil lies awake at night and thinks about what might have happened if he hadn't seen the glint.

Phil smiles, somewhat cautiously. "I like it when you're here."

And because he likes that fact Phil rubs his hand against Clint's arm. "I'm going to sit down." Because he can see Clint worrying about him and Clint has enough to worry about right now.

They can be alive and not okay together, sometimes. Or. Maybe they could do it all the time. If he can get out of his own ass, maybe.

There's some humor and relief in his voice, though. "Thank you. Don't worry, I remember how you take your coffee, and I'll bring it right over." It'll give him something to do, for all of two seconds. The pot's about done. He fishes out mugs--yes, there's at least one mug in the cupboard that is designated as Clint's--and sets to the brief task.

Tries not to think of every reason Phil should have to kick him to the curb.

"If you need any help while I'm here, just say the word."

Phil settles back onto the couch slowly and carefully with only a hint of a groan. His side pulls uncomfortably until he adjusts so that it's mildly annoying instead of uncomfortable.

There could be more of Clint's things here if Clint would let himself. Phil leans his head back and listens to Clint puttering around in the kitchen. It's nice to know he's here.

"I'm terrible at asking for help," he says like they both don't know that. Phil is used to taking care of everyone else, not so much himself. "But give me a minute and I can think of something."

Clint frowns to himself. It isn't like he's never heard Phil in pain before, but still... Ah, it's going to suck to be on the other side of this after all, huh?

Schools himself into pleasantness. Of course he's happy to be with his boyfriend. To be here. With someone he cares about, that he's been worried sick about when he's had the time to let himself be distracted with things like that. The awkward discomfort will pass. It's surely just the guilt nibbling at him.

"Careful, it's hot," he says completely unnecessarily when he comes out with two mugs of coffee, handing one to Phil. And he'll take the other side of the couch. Or at least, perch on the edge of the couch, like he's about to jump up again at any moment. In case Phil thinks of something. Obviously. "Are you taking your meds? Getting checked on frequently? Keeping your workload to a minimum?" Since obviously Phil will never just give up work. Even when he should.

"I hope it's hot," he says dryly as he takes the mug. He wraps both his hands around it because the warmth is nice and it keeps him from reaching for Clint. He's sitting like he's unsure if he's welcome and Phil's not sure if touch would settle him or send him running.

"I'm taking my meds." The important ones, antibiotics and mild painkillers. He's not taking the strongest ones until the pain really gets bad. "And if I was missing my appointments with SHIELD medical Natasha would have sent you sooner to bully me into going."

Phil sighs softly. "I work until Fury catches me in the system and blocks my access."

Because Fury wants him to rest but Phil wants to help. They fight about it a lot.

"Sounds like he should hire on Stark to block you out entirely." Not that he's for sale or for hire. Stark's got opinions on that, and on Fury, and on SHIELD. Not all of them unfounded. "But I get it. If you can do some work from the couch to keep your brain occupied so you don't rot it all on your reality tv, then obviously you're gonna do it. Beats being me and trying to go do stuff physically when I really shouldn't."

"Stark is mad at the entire military industrial complex," Phil says with a sigh. He doesn't blame Stark. After everything that happened to him it's easy to understand why he has trust issues with organizations like SHIELD.

That does not make him less annoying to deal with. It's worse because somehow Phil's come to like him. It's probably the smart mouth and insecurity issues. He likes smart mouths and insecurity issues.

He gives up and lays his hand on Clint's knee. "I'm simply organizing operations and assets to where they're most needed. It's not even that tiring. I do more work for international ops."

Is he whining? Just a little bit.

He gives a quick glance at that hand, at the normalcy of it all, and then back up at Phil. Clint keeps his own hands wrapped around the mug, warm and solid.

"He might just be trying to convince you to take it easy since you never take any damn vacations. Relaxing is supposed to be good for you. Refresh the body and soul and turn off the brain for a bit. Hell, maybe I'll take some leave when it feels safer to do so."

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