Chapter Text
Phil Colson looked up in pain at the man ordering him not to die. He was all for following orders especially those given to him by his direct boss but this one seemed a little beyond his abilities. The worst part was he’d never be able to see the avengers in action. It had been his project and of all the ones he had had in his life at SHIELD it was the one he cared about the most. But now…
But now it seemed Captain America, his greatest hero, was fighting with Tony Stark instead of the God of mischief throwing a temper tantrum throughout earth, the Hulk was terrorizing Tasha, the God who had become part of their team could very well be dead, and Clint... He closed his eyes in what would probably be read as physical pain. Clint was dead with only his former shell walking around. And to be fair, it had been part duty, but what Loki had done to Clint was what really drove him to take that weapon and shoot at an armed God.
The memory of the first time he had met Clint Barton came to the front of his mind and well that was a really good memory to die by and he really would rather die than ever face Clint like he was now but he really didn’t want to die just having given Loki a bad bruise. He had absolutely nothing to live for any more but everything to die for and that was a good thing in a moment like this. “It's okay, boss.” he started trying to cling to the memory in his head “this was never going to work, unless we had...” he felt it coming over him and he didn’t fight. He was at least dying for something.
~“‘*’”~
It’s a rather warm night, he thinks as he shrugs on his suite jacket, not that that matters as he would still be wearing this suite or one just like it regardless of the temperature. The streets are rushing with youthful energy highlighted by the ambianced lighting hitting the water. It’s just past midnight and the nightlife of the rejuvenated city is pumping in from every discotech and bar.
He walks silently going over the facts. He’s read over the file twice although he committed the key points to memory the first time. He might be a handler but asset acquisition has always been a specialty of his. This one’s an assassin for higher. Rumor is he never misses and if SHIELD wants him he’s willing to bet that the rumor is true. He’s a sniper. Can shoot and kill with any rifle you give him but prefers a bow and arrow. He had found that interesting when he’d first read over the file. Another reason SHIELD might want this one they’re always looking for operatives with interesting ways of killing people.
He gets to the correct building and goes in and to the closest stair well. The buildings only five stories tall, absolutely nothing for a man in his physical condition, but he knows he’s lucky. With this man’s skills he could have easily picked a far taller building. He opens the door slowly and quietly closing it the same way. He is a trained operative of SHIELD, one of their best in fact, he knows how to evade detection. Especially with the aid of loud Euro Pop coming up from the street.
The roof is extremely well lit from all the light coming up from the street bellow. Probably not this guys first choice of locations but in Prague there’s little else. The man looks focused. Good. Even with all his training and experience if the sniper wasn’t so focused he probably would have noticed someone on the roof with him.
“Hello Mr. Barton.” The man tenses up a bit. Not noticeably so to the normal eye but Phil’s always been good at these things. Slowly the man lets go of his gun (thankfully it’s a gun from what he’s read he’d be dead already if it were his bow) and turns around while standing up with his hands up. It’s funny they always assume that he’s pointing a gun at them because it’s never occurred to them someone might confront them without a weapon in hand and then once they register that he isn’t in fact holding a gun to them they lower their arms. Of course Phil never comes to these things unarmed and could easily draw and kill before they’ve had time to even think about it but that never seems to occur them either. This one though is apparently different because he’s keeping his hands at shoulder level. Apparently a very smart assassin.
Phil finally lets himself look away from the man’s hands and at the rest of him. And-
Fuck.
Because Phil Coulson is good at this. He can deal with prisses and people with god complexes and those who are so shy they won’t even look you in the eye and those who are so messed up a team of psychiatrists couldn’t untangle them. But he’s not sure if he can handle this because the man he’s about to try to convince to be an asset is gorgeous. Not the type of gorgeous of the Steve Rogers on the Captain America posters in his apartment but the real kind, the kind Phil would probably hit on in a club if you know Phil had any time to go to clubs. And that’s the worst kind of potential asset possible because Phil absolutely cannot hit on his potential asset and he can’t act awkward around him but that’s the only thing you can do isn’t it?
But he’d never let something like personal discomfort jeopardize a mission. So he steels himself back into perfect Agent Coulson and starts the spiel. “Mr. Barton we know who you are and we know why you are up here tonight” he sees a flicker in the man’s eyes “No don’t jump it would be useless” another flicker “No you didn’t turn around. No I’m not psychic” that last one was just the logical progression of thoughts. “The way we see it Mr. Barton you have three options. Number one we can turn you over to the Chechen authorities and you can go to prison here. Number two we can take you back to the United States and you can go to prison there. Or number three,” he could see Barton tense up a bit readying himself for what he thought would be coming next “you can come work for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.” The man blinked clearly shocked at what he’d just heard.
His eyes came up to meet Phil’s own “it seems you’ve only given me one real option.”
“Ah so what will it be then Mr. Barton”
He smirked at that “Number three please” he said in a sarcastic tone mimicking how you might order a special at a diner. Yes, they would get along just fine.
“Good. Come with me Mr. Barton.” He stepped forward and put his wrists together and held them out as though he was expecting to be handcuffed. “I’m sorry, I thought you picked coming to work for us.” Barton nodded looking confused. “Then put your hands down and just follow me.” Keeping him confused was the safest course of action for the short term and in the long term the kindness would lead a better relationship. Besides the one sided attraction would make the walk through central Prague awkward enough without the added bonus of being stared at because one of them is in handcuffs.
They walked quietly down the stairs leaving the gun behind to be taken care of later. He noticed the man’s discomfort grew as they descended from his perch on the roof and noted that for his later report.
Once on ground level it was a short walk to the designated SHIELD site located in an unassuming office building. He went to the already prepped room and sat down motioning for Barton to sit across from him where a contract was already laid out. “Mr. Barton what you have in front of you is a contract. You may read through it if you wish or simply listen as I detail what you are signing up for. I will not lie to you Mr. Barton by signing this you are giving control over part of your life to us. You will need to be trained to fill any holes you may have in your already extensive training. After that you will be allowed a small amount of freedom though you will be expected to be reachable at all times and to be ready to go whenever and wherever we want. For the most part you will still act as a sniper though you will have a lot more paper work to fill at the end of the day. You will receive a steady income and quarters to live in. You will also have access to the newest and best archery equipment money can buy and open ranges to practice on anytime you’d like.”
Barton glances down at the contract in front of him and closes his eyes for few seconds. When he opens them again he takes a deep breath and signs the contract. When he looks up there isn’t anything in his eyes that’s pained or confused there’s only resigned. “Welcome to SHIELD Agent Barton,” He says taking the contract from him. “I’m Agent Coulson I’m going to be your handler from now on. Do you have any questions?”
“I don’t do well with authority figures.”
He has to fight back a grin, “I know.” He waits a minute before he adds “anything else?”
“What happens now?”
“Ah. There is a bed set up for you in the other room you’ll spend the night here. Try and get some rest. I’ll be back for you at 08:00 our transport leaves at 09:00 for New York. Follow me.” he gets up and walks two doors down, his new asset follows a few steps behind. “Here you are,” he says as he opens the door to the room. He fishes around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a brand new cell phone “I’m number one on speed dial call me if you need something happens,” he slides the phone into the other man’s hand and makes sure he doesn’t react visibly to the tiny spark that goes through him as their hands touch. With that he turns and leaves.
He walks back to the hotel room he’s staying in happy. It’s for a successful mission he tells himself but doesn’t really believe it. He’s in the middle of getting ready for bed when his phone buzzes with a text. He walks over to the bedside table where he placed his phone when he got in curious to see what it is. It’s from the phone he just handed to Barton. He clicks open and reads Thanks. I think. And then he can’t stop the coroners of his mouth from curving up. He clicks reply and types in No problem. See you in the morning. He finishes getting ready for bed and gets in getting himself ready for an overseas flight with a very attractive man who he’s quite sure he’s going to love spending time with. God what an absolutely awful mission.
~“‘*’”~
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A steady rhythm broke through his memory and Phil suddenly found himself awake. He opened his eyes to see that he was in what could only be a hospital room. All he really wanted right then was to see Clint but if he wasn’t in the room already he was probably on assignment somewhere. He tried thinking back to what assignment had gotten him hurt and immediately wished he hadn’t. Fuck why the hell was he still alive.
The monitor kept beeping steadily a sure sign that his heart was working fine but it didn’t feel fine. It felt hollowed out and painful and not the type of pain you’d expect from being stabbed in the heart by an angry god (he was quite sure that was being taken care of by really strong meds anyway) but the kind of pain you get from knowing you are still alive when the person who meant the world to you is either dead or walking around as a shell of what he used to be.
And this was all wrong because everyone knows something like that you need to fight and what the hell did he have worth fighting for.
He rested his head back onto the pillows he’d been provided with. He thought about the bed he was far more used to sleeping in. His own two firm pillows stacked neatly on top of each other sitting next to Clint’s pile of 5 soft feathery ones. Clint could sleep absolutely anywhere but his Hawkeye really preferred his head to be in a nest of softness when he drifted off. He wanted to smile at that but all he felt was a tear streaming down his right cheek.
He raised his hand up to his face and wiped away the tear mildly aware of the sore feeling in his arm though it was dulled to nothing by the painkiller cocktail. Funny how they did nothing for the ache in the wide chasm inside his heart. He put his hand back down and just laid there for a moment. The door opened and a nurse came in holding a replacement IV. She walked around the bed not seeming to notice his open eyes. She was about to start the replacement when she finally noticed the eyes on her. She turned slowly her eyes gaping and let out a shrieked “Oh.”
She only had the semblance of mind to hook the IV limply on the on the hook before she ran off to the other side of the room and pressed a large button on the wall. She walked back over a little sheepishly and only grew more so when she looked on the mix of confusion and are-you-completely-nuts expressed on Coulson’s face. She went back to the bed and carefully asked “How are you feeling Sir?”
She bent down and took something from his mouth which was when Phil realized there had been a breathing tube in his mouth. God what kind of drugs did they have him on? Asking what that whole button thing was about seemed like a supreme waist of effort so instead asks the real burning question “What happened?” because damn it he needed to know. He needed to know all of it.
She looked slightly scared at that. “I- I’m sorry Sir. I can’t. The Orders were…” the poor thing looked freaked out of her mind. He raised his hand slightly and made a motion that said bring it down. She quieted instantly and went to work redoing the IV she had left behind earlier. She worked with all possible haste and was leaving with an empty bag in hand. “Good bye Sir. Director Fury will be here shortly.” And with that she was gone.
Fury was in the room less than a minute later. “Agent Coulson glad to see you’re awake” he said when he had firmly closed the door.
“What happened?” he rasped again hoping for a better answer this time.
“Loki nicked your heart and lung. Thought you were about to disobey a direct order there for a minute but you kept going even after you passed out. Medics came with the new Stark tech and it started healing you right off. Couldn’t do anything for your coma though, not without a high chance of permanent damage.”
Phil nodded slightly careful not to strain anything. He was still wondering why on earth he had hung on when he had meant to let go. “The Avengers?” he wasn’t really certain he wanted to know but at the same time he needed to know. The 6 no 5 of them were all he really had left to truly care about. Hell it might have only been 4 by the time he fell into the coma if Thor had not survived the fall.
“they’re all doing fine. Got to hand it to you, you picked out a great team. When they came together they were a force to be reckoned with. You were right all they needed was something to avenge,” Fury smirked “how does it feel to have 6 super heroes be that loyal to you?” what was that? “Thor’s taken Loki and the Tesseract back to Asgard, The captain is back in his apartment, Banner moved into Stark tower where Stark’s given him his own lab and Romanov and Barton have come back to the barracks on ground base” Fury looked at Phil and registered the confusion on his face “Agent Romanov hit Agent Barton on the head and that snapped him out of it. He immediately got back into the fray fighting for our side.”
Happiness soared through him. He kept his face emotionless as to not give himself away. The lightened feeling in his chest made him feel safe to try an entire quip. “Well if they’re all so incredibly loyal where are all the get well cards?” he means it as a light joke but looking at Fury’s discomfort he saw it wasn’t taken as such.
“I took your advice Coulson I told them you had died. They all put aside their differences to fight to avenge you. They all believe you to be dead.” Fury’s not looking at him which unsettles him more than anything else could considering the director’s normally piercing one eyed stare that’s never afraid to meet any pair of eyes and dare them to be more intimidating. It all just adds to his confusion which is just not good because Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD is never confused He’s the one who quirks an indignant brow at those who are confused by that which by all rights they should be confused about. Must be all he pain meds dulling his senses he figured.
He didn’t even want to think about the hell this would be to explaining being alive but if Fury hadn’t had a chance to tell them yet maybe it had only been a few hours. “How long was I under?” he asked just out of curiosity really.
“Three weeks.”
What?
Everyone he knew thought he’d been dead for almost a month.
“You were in a coma Agent Coulson we really had no idea if you were going to wake up we had no wish of giving them false hope.”
Three weeks. Oh God Clint had thought he had been dead from what was obviously a suicidal mission for three weeks.
“I- I think I’m in love with you Phil.” He looks into the eyes of the most beautiful man in the world bursting from joy at hearing his confession. But Clint’s eyes are shrouded with a sense of worry and dread and it’s almost funny that he feels he needs to be worried.
So Phil allows all the emotion he normally hides away go into his face and says in the sincerest way he can “I love you too.”
Clint’s smiling now but it’s tentative and the worry hasn’t melted completely from his eyes. And he’s seen that look before. Saw it every day those first 6 months at SHIELD. Back when Clint had thought they would throw him out and into jail any minute when they figured out their mistake. Worried about everyone leaving him once again.
Phil cups Clint’s face in his hands and presses his lips, in a firm but chaste kiss to, Clint’s. It only lasts a second before he pulls away and rests his forehead on the other man’s. “I love you. I’m not going to leave.”
“Oh Clint, I didn’t mean to break my promise” he thought with a sense of dread.
He focused back his attention back on Fury. “So tell them now.”
“Coulson having the avengers loyal to you is very important but it’s not as important as them having a certain level of loyalty towards their Director. If I were to tell them now I highly doubt any of them would trust me again and that’s tentative as it is now that they know about the Tesseract weapons. It is probably for the best that they keep being held in the dark.”
“Bullshit”
Fury gave him a glare and Phil shot back one of his far more deadly ones because he was far past following orders at this point. “We’ll discuss this later Phil get some rest.”
Fury walked out and he was helpless to do anything about it.
He could only lay there and wait.