Clint opens his eyes and Loki is standing in front of him, staff already moving toward his chest. When he feels those cold, snaky fingers wrapping around his brain he slams his shields up instinctively, just like the Architect had taught him, but he knows it won't work. Nothing ever has. He's had this nightmare more times than he can count, and it always goes the same way. Nothing he does can ever make it change.

Except that does. Work, that is. The coldness disappears and Loki takes a step back.

"This usually works," he says, frowning in confusion at the staff. Clint's thoughts are reeling but he still has the presence of mind to take advantage of the situation. He brings a leg up, sweeping Loki's feet out from under him. The god is up again in an instant, but Clint has already leapt back, well out of reach of the staff.

Loki's face twists in anger and he lashes out with the staff, throwing an energy bolt at Clint. He throws himself to the side, but not quite quick enough, and the blast wings him and sends him spinning across the room. He ducks and rolls out of the fall, just able to brace himself as he slams into the wall. When Clint looks up, Loki has Agent Webster under his control and is talking to Fury.

The longer this goes on the less it feels like a nightmare to Clint and the more it feels like a second chance. It's probably not - it's probably some new variation on his nightmare or some kind of mind trick. Maybe Clint got hurt and is in a coma - he's heard coma-dreams can be very realistic.

But the only thing worse than thinking you have a second chance and then finding out it's not real is to realise you actually had a second chance and you didn't take it. Clint decides he's going to operate on the assumption that this is real until he finds a good reason to think otherwise. He's been wishing for a do-over for the past two months and if there's even the slightest chance that this is actually happening Clint's going to take it.

Clint knows how this is going to pan out. Loki will take Selvig next, and then he'll have someone - probably Webster - shoot Fury. Webster's no sharp shooter, so he always aims for center mass; with the armor Fury will be fine, just like before. Clint's arrows are still up top and he knows from experience how little bullets mean to Loki. The demi-god seems to have forgotten him for now, but Clint knows that even with the element of surprise, the only thing that him attacking right now will accomplish is getting himself killed, so he stays put.

Loki takes Selvig, and the good doctor warns him that the whole structure is about to collapse. "Well then," Loki says, and right on cue Webster shoots Fury in the chest. Fury goes down hard and Loki walks out of the room with the case, Webster and Selvig in attendance. Clint waits until he's sure Loki is out of sight before dashing over to the Director.

"You all right, sir?" Clint asks, as Fury struggles up into a sitting position, groaning.

"Barton," he says around clenched teeth, "get it back."

Clint helps Fury to his feet. "Yes, sir," he says, and races after Loki. He catches up just as the truck speeds off, Webster driving and Loki in the back.

"Get these people out of here," Clint calls to Hill as he jumps into a jeep and tries to catch up to Webster. Loki is firing the staff at any SHIELD vehicle that gets in his way, most of whom are just trying to escape. Soon it's just down to Clint and Webster. It's a strange dissonance - last time he was in Webster's place and Hill was in his place. The end result is the same though - Loki gets away and Clint ends up half-buried in the rubble.

Clint crawls out of the wrecked jeep and slams the door in frustration. Every wrecked car or truck represents good agents Clint has failed to protect, despite already knowing Loki's every move. Good agents who are now buried in the rubble of the outpost, and mostly likely dead. Clint searches the cab trying to find his radio, but when he finally pulls it out from under the crumpled dash, it's busted.

'Great,' Clint thinks. Now he has no way to contact Fury or anyone back at base. And also no way to call for help. He's going to have to dig himself out on his own and hike until he finds a phone. Just wonderful.

Clint grabs everything he can salvage from the jeep and starts heading for the end of the tunnel. It takes Clint a good half hour of ducking under and scrambling over chunks of concrete to get free, back in open air of the New Mexico night.

Clint scrambles up to the edge of what is now a large crater where the outpost used to be. The range of destruction is devastating. Clint hopes Phil got most of their people out before the collapse and then falls to his knees at the sudden realisation.

Phil. Right here and now Phil is still alive. Probably on his way back to base. Clint has spent most of the last two months trying not to think about Phil, not quite ready to face the magnitude of his loss, and even with all that has happened it's only now that he realises that he doesn't just have a second chance to stop Loki - Clint has a second chance to save Phil.

A Phil who probably thinks Clint is now dead, what with the whole collapsed building and Clint without a working radio. The urgency to call in just got stronger.

Clint staggers to his feet. A few minutes of walking and he finds a wrecked helicopter that he thinks must be Fury's. It's empty, so Fury's probably already been extracted, but after fiddling around in the cockpit Clint discovers to his delight that the cockpit radio still works.

"Agent Barton to base, anyone copy?" Clint calls through the radio. He gets and immediate answer.

"Base to Agent Barton, we copy. Transferring to AIC." Clint waits in silence for about thirty seconds before the radio crackles to life again.

"Barton?" Phil's voice comes over the radio, trying and failing for a professional tone. Hearing that voice again after two months is like a shock to Clint's system - his heart actually stops for a moment, before trying to pound out of his chest. Clint knows he should take a moment to compose himself before answering but he remembers the half-hopeful, half-disbelieving tone in which Phil had said his name and he refuses to worry Phil even more by hesitating to answer.

"Hey," he croaks, and it might not be professional but Clint can hear Phil's heavy sigh of relief over the radio and knows Phil will hardly call him on it. In the brief silence that follows Clint can hear the muffled sounds of frenzied agents grow softer and then disappear with the click of a door and he knows Phil has just gotten them some privacy.

"God, Clint," Phil says, still shaky. "Are you ok? Where are you?" It's the tone Phil always uses when Clint manages to get himself hurt on assignment and Clint grins - he can't help it. It's familiar and it's perfect and Clint never thought he'd get to hear it ever again.

"I'm fine, Phil," he's quick to assure his husband. "I got a little banged up when the tunnel collapsed on me but no broken bones, no head wounds, just scrapes and bruises, I promise. My radio got busted in the crash and I had to dig my way out, that's why it took me so long to check in. I'm sorry," he finishes, because he's never not sorry for all the worry he puts Phil through, even when it's unavoidable.

Clint can hear Phil take several deep breaths before he responds "Ok" in a slightly calmer tone. "Where are you?" Phil asks again.

"I'm at the downed helicopter right outside the tunnel," Clint responds, "Luckily the cockpit radio still works or I would have had to hike into town to call in."

"Ok," Phil says, tone professional once more, "I'm going to get someone out there to pick you up as soon as possible. We're scrambling to the helicarrier so I'll meet you there."

"Yes, sir," Clint says, just barely across the line into flippant, and he can practically hear Phil smile.

"I've got to go," Phil says, "I'll see you soon," he promises, more warmth than is strictly professional in his voice.

"Yeah, see you soon," Clint replies, putting the radio back in its cradle and crawling out of the cockpit to sit on top of the helicopter. He leans back and watches the sun rise over the desert while he waits for his ride.