Sorry it took me so long. I have written the chapter weeks ago. It was hand-written and I lacked the time (and was too lazy when I had the time) to write it again in digital form. I decided to take my laptop with me when I go to work instead of a notebook. The kids we have at the moment don't steal. There was a time we had kids who would have tried to steal it.

I hope it isn't too bad. I wrote it during the night. I needed hours but it's finally done.

Thank you for all the reviews and favorites I've got.

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Phil's recovery was slow and filled with sorrow but a few months after her death he was back to his old scary self.

Nick had granted him 4 weeks of personal leave, sadly Clint's request had been denied.

These 4 weeks had added more problems to Phil's already battered soul. Grieving and fearing for his lover's well being had slowed down his healing process.

Being at home, alone with his gloomy thoughts wore him down, mercifully, Clint was a worrywart so he stole some of his paperwork and smuggled it back home to distract him. The archer put the finished paperwork back onto Phil's desk.

They were sure Nick knew about it because the pile of papers increased day by day and the finished files vanished mysteriously.

Going back to work was almost a blessing and keeping an eye on Clint took a load off of his mind.

"When do you intent to proceed with your wedding?" Hill asked after a long meeting.

"I don't know. We haven't talked about it yet," Phil wasn't ready and Clint never pushed him. The archer was his lifeline during the last months. Taking all the shit he threw at him.

His dark moods, his angry outbursts and silent treatment. He took it all without reflecting his moods back at him. He gave and gave and gave, only getting pain in return.

Phil was sure he owed Clint one, no he knew he owed him one. Something special, something personal.

Nothing like an expensive vacation or dinner. It should be something that showed how much Clint meant to him. Phil had no doubt Clint knew how deep his feelings ran. But his aunt's death reminded him, again, how fragile life was.

How easily a human being could break. Turning to ashes, all that remained were memories.

Phil tended to think that they were immortal. They had so many brushes with death. They beat the odds on a regular basis but one day they'd run out of luck and one of them, or preferably both, would not come home.

Coulson chided himself for being so clingy but he needed more than their bond could provide. He needed more than feel their love inside his mind, he needed to have his archer around.

Sitting on the couch in his office.

Hiding in the vents.

Clint following him around wherever he went.

He never told Clint that but the archer seemed to know nonetheless. Clint spent by far more time with him than he usually did. He overheard an agent say that Clint was like a lost puppy. Obeying his master to gain his favor, or in Clint's case to keep what he had.

The agent found a great new occupation in Siberia shortly after.

"Don't wait too long," she patted his shoulder. "Life is too short, but whom I'm telling that."

Phil felt his heart constrict, "I'm not ready Maria."

"I understand and he does too." She gave him a rare smile, "He'll follow you everywhere. I have never seen a couple as devoted as you before. It's sickening, but kind of adorable."

"We're many things but adorable isn't one of them."

"Believe me; it is."

"Women," he muttered.

"You should find more male friends then," she grinned wickedly. Coulson was the perfect friend for a woman. Trained in martial arts, high moral, wicked sense of humor, heart of gold and gay.

"They fear me," Phil deadpanned.

"I know."

"You're the devil."

"No, I'm his queen."

Coulson grimaced, "TMI."

"Why, don't you want to know how he bends me over his…"

"One more word and I tase you."

She snapped her mouth shut because second director or not he would tase her. Justifying his act in front of the director in a way that would convince her lover that she deserved it.

"I'm wrong. I'm not the devil's queen. Clint is."

"I prefer the term the devil's right hand," Clint's voice startled her.

"How long…?"

"Since, don't wait too long," the archer smirked.

"No one is as silent as you guys. Is that a team thing or is stealth 101 the first thing you teach them?"

"A team thing," they said in unison.

She shuddered; finishing each other's sentences was one more scary skill of team Coulson she couldn't get used to. "8 a.m. Training ground. I think you posses some skills you should share."

"Of course, agent Hill. We will be there," Phil gave her a lopsided grin that gave her goose bumps.

"Don't break them," she warned.

"Who said anything about breaking?" Clint said out loud what was written on Phil's face.

Scary, she looked from Phil to Clint, "I want them in one piece afterwards. Mentally too."

"Yes, ma'am," again in unison.

She sighed deeply and left, shaking her head. "What have I done to deserve that?"

"Karma," they said. They knew that she hated it when they did that. They knew her too well.

"That was fun, sir."

"It's always fun to get under her skin," Phil agreed. "Dinner?"

"Sure, I'm starving."

Phil gave him an half hearted glare, "Skipped breakfast again?"

"You were already gone," Clint shrugged. "I wasn't hungry."

"What did I broadcast this time?" Phil felt guilty for Clint's discomfort. Lack of sleep and food had been part of Clint's suffering. Phil's heavy emotions didn't let him sleep at night and took away his healthy appetite.

"Just boredom," and guilt, and fear, and melancholy.

"Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Clint smiled. "Boring meetings are nothing new."

Phil couldn't shake the feeling that Clint only told half of the truth but his lover was great at pretending. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this."

"Not your fault. It's a normal reaction."

"But we share the bond."

"You put up with all my issues for years. It's okay for you to rely on me for once, it's okay to share with me what's bothering you."

"Thank you," Phil was genuine, he wasn't sure he could have made it without Clint.

It was the first time he needed Clint that way, normally it was his job to be the protector. Not vice versa. It felt strange to rely on Clint so heavily but nonetheless it gave him a sense of safety.

Clint proved to him that it was safe to rely on him, always.

"You're welcome, sir." I'll protect you, even from myself if I have to.

The love inside the bond made Phil very happy, lightning his mood like nothing else could.

"Don't ever stop loving me that way," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Clint looked at his handler in surprise, stunned even. It wasn't like Phil to blurt out his thoughts, and the hint of desperation in his voice in regard of their relationship was new too.

Desperation was normally reserved for near death experiences, abductions and similar catastrophes. Phil regained his composure, taking Clint's silence for a bad sign.

Clint looked around to make sure they were truly alone before he grabbed Phil's hand, pulling him closer until their lips met. "I'm not able to stop loving you, even if I wanted to, and I absolutely don't want to," he whispered against Phil's lips. "We're meant to be together."

Coulson nodded dumbly, missing Clint's warmth instantly the moment the younger man stepped away.

Two agents walked around the corner shortly after. Clint's senses were sharp.

"Parking lot in 20, agent," Phil ordered smoothly.

"Yes, sir," Clint confirmed. One of the agents frowned, he was one of Clint's former handlers and was absolutely not used to Barton obeying anyone. He tended to think that the rumors about Couulson and Barton were just that, rumors.

Sure, he'd heard about their sexual relationship and all the stories about team Coulson but the confirmation felt strange nonetheless. He had been on an away mission at that time but he wondered if the romantic side, the female agents spread around, of Deuce attack had been true too.

"If I had known all it took for you to be tamed was a regular fuck I'd have found you a willing partner long ago."

"Nah, I'm not that easy," replied nonchalantly.

"I heard differently," and he knew the moment the words left his mouth that it was a big mistake.

"Meet me in 10, Gym 4," Coulson ordered his fellow agent. They were both handler but Phil was higher ranking. He outranked him by far.

"Yes, sir," he winced inwardly as he mirrored Clint's words. Coulson's gaze convinced him that sex was not the reason Barton obeyed. "You obey because you're scared of him," he mumbled, praying that they didn't pick up on his words.

"Come with me Barton and call our widow. I'm sure she wants to join us."

"Yes, sir," Hawkeye grinned scarily.

Coulson asked for permission to interrupt Sitwell's training session for a few minutes. He explained why and the other man happily agreed. Jasper loved it when Phil handed people their asses. It was always fun to watch and in addition to that always justified, work related or private didn't matter.

Davis entered the gym with his team in tow.

The room was filled with Jasper and his fledglings, Coulson's team and Davis's.

"Interested in a bet?" One of Davis's men asked but no one was interested. The outcome was a well known fact.

Coulson knocked Davis out under a minute.

"Thanks Jasper, you can continue."

"Always a pleasure Phil. I think their motivation level just increased, a lot," he pointed at his baby agents.

"Beer at O'Reilley's? At ten?" Phil asked cheerfully, or what passed as Phil's work version of cheerful.

"Sure. Is Maria coming?"

"I bet," Clint sent her a text and got a reply shortly after, "yep. She's in."

"Can I have this one?" Natasha asked, nodding in direction of a burly man who glared daggers at them for knocking out his superior.

"Yes," Coulson said calmly.

"Great, give me a second and I'm in too."

"Take it slow or he'll doubt his masculinity," Clint joked.

She huffed and went over to the man, asking for a sparring session. The man agreed with a grin, sure of himself.

She wasn't exaggerating, with one smooth motion he landed on his ass.

"So much to taking it slow," Clint laughed.

Davis's team glared at him for laughing at them. Phil went into protection mood, straightening his back and moving in front of Clint as if he could shield him with his body from their glares. "Romanoff," he ordered and Natasha positioned herself next to him.

Sitwell and his men positioned themselves behind them, forcing Davis's team to back down. It wasn't rare for handler, or agents in general, to battle for dominance. Searching for a way to the top. Coulson, Hill and Sitwell, were on top for years. Fury's beloved hazardous three. Some people tried to change the hierarchy on a regular basis. Davis was one of them.

"We have more important things to do than play around with you," Davis tried to stand straight after his right hand helped him back onto his feet. "Some people actually do work around here."

"See, our work is so secret that you don't even notice we're working," Clint stated, hitting a sore spot."

"That's what you say," Davis replied smug.

"No, that's what I say," Fury's voice let them freeze. "Go back to work before I get the impression you're slacking off."

"Yes, sir."

"Coulson, Barton, Romanoff, come with me. I have a job for you."

"Yes, sir." They said in unison and followed him out of the room.

::::

It turned out that Tony Stark got into trouble, serious trouble. He got himself out of the mess but changing his work ethics was something no one expected. Fury wasn't sure if he was glad or annoyed that Stark Industries stopped developing weapons, and then there was the Iron Man issue that caused him headaches.

Phil, lucky as he was, was ordered to play babysitter for one Tony Stark. In this case lucky was a synonym for migraines, high blood pressure and sleepless nights.

"Great," Phil took off his shirt. "What have I done to deserve this?"

"You're too awesome for your own good," Clint lay lazily on their bed, watching Phil undress.

Phil gave him an annoyed glare.

The archer smirked, annoying his handler even more. The feeling of annoyance let Clint's smirk fade, "We're together in this. I'll be there. In the background ready to shoot him whenever you want."

"Tempting as it is. I can't accept the offer. Stark is too valuable to die; yet."

"I'll scare him then," Clint shrugged.

"Don't come near him," Phil growled.

"Scared I hook up with him?"

"No, I'm scared you might get along and become friends. Both of you mean trouble."

"Love you too," Clint's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And what's with you and Jasper?"

"Simple, we wreck havoc," he deadpanned.

"Uh-hu," Clint smiled. Phil and Jasper are S.H.I.E.L.D.'s evil duo, that's what Nick says whenever they burn something to the ground. "Where's the difference?"

"We're in control, you're loose cannons."

"Okay, you have a point," he clicked his tongue.

Phil gave up his stern masquerade and a huge smile broke out on his face. He joined his archer in bed, "The evening was fun," he sighed.

Phil was just a little tipsy but very relaxed. Clint loved feeling the content hum in their bond, "What makes you so happy?"

"Friends, my job -except Stark- and you of course."

Clint snuggled closer, kissing Phil's neck, "I'm not scared of you," he said softly.

"What?"

"I felt a sense of insecurity and doubt. You're the only person I don't have to fear." The archer felt a heavy sense of relief. "I love you sir, you're my safe haven."

Phil placed a kiss on top of his archer's head, "and you're mine." I'm glad.

::::::

"Stark is a menace," Phil fumed after Stark destroyed a huge areal around Stark Expo.

Clint was used to these kind of outbursts or else he would have been surprised how fast Phil's calm façade could drop. "He's more trouble than I am. I'm actually glad I lose my title as menace extraordinaire to Stark."

Phil shot him a glare before he sighed heavily. "Idiot," he mumbled fondly.

"I'm your idiot," Clint was glad that Phil was cooling down, he hated feeling anger.

"I could dump him on Jasper," Phil mused.

"You know how well that will end."

Phil nodded. Clint was right. Jasper would lose his temper and shoot Stark within a week.

"I heard a few birds talking. Wait and see, I'll get you an assignment that'll cheer you up."

"Should I be scared?"

"Maybe," Clint wiggled his brows.

Three weeks later, Phil ended up in Antarctica, with a way too cheerful Hawkeye at his side.

"Care to explain why the hell we're here?"

Clint had practically begged Fury to assign Phil and keep anything mission related a secret. "No."

"No?" The older agent narrowed his eyes, his patients was running low. Clint could feel that but he was determined not to give in. "No sir. You have to see for yourself."

"I don't want to see anything in this hell hole," he growled. "I have better things to do." He regretted his words instantly as Clint's cheerful aura died down, just some hope within the bond was left.

"Richards will show you the way," Clint pointed at one of many scientists. Clint recognized him from one of the pictures within the file he read about the people in charge.

Phil grabbed his lover's wrist the moment the young man intended to leave. "Don't go," he said softly. "Show me your surprise."

The archer nodded, raising his gaze to look Phil in the eye. His handler's features were gentle and his gaze softened too. The archer sighed softly.

Clint led him into a large room, there were many scientists working on machines he had never seen before, guarded by a hand full of agents. In the middle of the room stood that looked suspiciously like an operating table, a person was lying on it.

Phil moved closer to get a closer look and stopped in his tracks. "Is that?" He gasped unable to finish his sentence.

"He is," Clint smiled lovingly; the expression on Phil's face was priceless.

"How?"

"They found him in the ice. They're still defrosting him but he's alive and he will be ready to save the world in no time."

"What am I doing here?" He couldn't take his eyes off of his childhood hero.

"Supervising the process. Stark is in Japan and even after his return he'll be Hill's problem for a while."

Phil took a shaky breath; all kinds of emotions ran through their bond. He looked at Clint. The archer pressed his hand against his chest and Phil realized that he was overwhelming Clint with his feelings. He forced himself to calm down, "Sorry," he mouthed.

Clint smiled, waving his hand to signalize that it was okay. "One week and he'll open his eyes. He will need your help to adjust to the new world."

"Inform me about any changes in his condition," Coulson ordered before he dragged his asset out of the room. "Guide me to my quarters," he snapped at a young agent who obeyed immediately. The agent gave Clint a pitying look, he thought the asset had done something wrong and was in for a good dressing down.

After Phil closed the door of his room, he pushed Clint against the wall and cupped his lover's face , kissing him senseless.

Clint panted heavily, "You're welcome," he smiled.

"I love you," Phil whispered against Clint's kiss swollen lips. "Thank you. You're my very own hero."

"I'm not hero material, but thank you," the archer blushed. He still wasn't used to compliments- To hear how useless he was, what sick kind of scum, that he could handle but to hear that he was great the way he was, was so alien to him that he couldn't believe it.

Phil praised him often over the years but still, it felt like a beautiful lie. The fact that Coulson never lied was a big help to handle his praise.

"You are and one day I will get the chance to prove it to you," Phil rubbed his thumbs over Clint's cheekbones to sooth his fiancé's insecurities. "How did you get the assignment for me?"

Clint brough their foreheads together, "I asked, very nicely, and bribed him with daily coffe runs and my famous muffins; ... and I never begged, should he ever tell you shit like that. I'll deny it until my dying day."

Coulson chuckled, "Did you drop to your knees too? Looking up at him, puppy-eyed?"

"Something like that," the archer replied with a smirk. Fury loved Phil and it didn't take much to convince the director that Phil would love to get the assignment, and that meeting Phil after waking up in a new world would be lees traumatizing than Maria. Mean as Nick could be he enjoyed every moment of Clint's attempt to convince him, making him beg even though he had already decided to grant his old friend the chance to fulfill his biggest dream.

"Let me show you how thankful I am," Phil started nibbling his lover's neck.

"We aren't off duty," Clint slid his hand beneath Phil's shirt though.

"I don't mind."

"You... no?"

"No."

Hawkeye beamed like a kid in a candy shop and pushed Phil onto the bed, "then show me how much you adore me."

"Oh, I will," Phil promised. "Believe me I will."

::::::::::::::

Clint had to return to New York before Rogers woke up but it was okay with him as long as Phil could stay to greet his childhood hero.

Natasha was on a mission in Australia and Clint felt lonely. He hadn't felt that way for a long time.

Hawkeye crawled through the vents in hope to find some comfort there but not even his beloved vents could take the emptiness away. He could feel Phil and the older man was more than fine, but he missed his physical presence. The warmth of his eyes, his smile and his touch. He realized that he had reached a point where the bond alone wasn't enough to make him feel alive, and whole.

Clint felt like the orphan boy he once was. Lonely, scared and restless. Phil was not only his fiancé but his protector too, so much he knew. What caused his sudden sense of loneliness he didn't know. It wasn't the first time they had different missions and it wouldn't be the last. He wasn't jealous of Captain America either. Phil loved him, only Clint, there was no doubt.

"Hawkeye. My office," Nick's voice chimed up in his ear.

"On my way sir," he crawled around a corner and headed in direction of Nick's office. He dropped out of the shaft and landed in front of the director's desk.

"I have a door, you know."

"No but now I do. Hopefully I do not forget."

A barely visible smirk graced Nick's lips, "I have a job for you."

"A milk run, like last time?" He had been disappointed that Nock had ordered him back just to spy on a Hydra scientist.

"We heard about a new organization and it's your job to provide back up for Jasper's team."

"Will you order Phil back?"

"Just when I have to. He's happy where he is. I know he would be happier with you around," he rolled his eyes at the look Clint gave him.

"Damn straight sir."

"We don't need him for this. Meet Sitwell in an hour, he'll brief you and I think you'll leave around 8 p.m."

"Yes, sir." Clint saluted with a smile on his face, "You're awesome Nick."

"Don't push your luck kid," Nick laughed gruff. "Come home safe," he added.

"I do my best, sir. And I know I would be with Phil if you could spare me," Clint left before Fury could reply.

:::::::::::::::::

Clint lay on a rooftop in Chile as a strong wave of joy and awe hit him. He knew instantly that Rogers must have woken up. Phil's happiness warmed his heart and made him feel less lonely, because it was worth it.

Phil's happiness was worth all he had to give.

"Hawkeye, report," Jasper tried to figure out where Barton was. The archer wasn't happy with the position they originally chose so they came up with a new plan and Baron took off to search the right nest.

"I have a clear view, but the sun is kinda distracting. There's nothing around me that could provide some shelter." Clint rubbed the sweat out of his eyes.

"Tell me when you reach your limit."

"Two hours left for today. Tomorrow I'll find a better place; hopefully."

Jasper nodded, he could sense Barton's eyes on him. The target liked to walk down the pavement from north to south, always in broad daylight when the streets were crowded. His destination on those days was the strip club he owned.

Clint barely made it but was proud of himself after Sitwell ended the op for the day. He slumped down onto the hard bed in the safe house. He had to share his room with Jasper and four of his agents, there wasn't enough space for single bedrooms so they had to sleep in the same room.

"Are you alright?" A woman, around 30, asked with worry in her eyes. Clint cracked an eye open to look at her. "Just a headache," and sunburns. For a moment he remembered the feeling of Phil's hands on his sunburned skin, feather like touched, massaging the ointment into his skin.

"Here," Jasper held out a bottle of water. Clint moved to get it but the movement made his stomach churn. He jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. His teammates gave him pitying glances. Shortly after his dry heaving subsided Sitwell's phone started buzzing. "Sitwell," he answered. "Coulson... yeah... he's fine, almost. Too much sun... yes... sure." He went to the bathroom and handed Clint the phone.

"Hey, sir," Clint said softly and Jasper closed the door to grant him his privacy.

"Is that agent Coulson?" Is Barton in trouble?" A young man asked, he took a liking to the cocky archer.

"No trouble," Jasper shook his head.

"Why?" Another man in his thirties asked, he was long enough with S.H.I.E.L.D. to know Coulson meant trouble. He wasn't long enough in NYC to know about the special kind of relationship they shared.

The fourth agent smirked, sharing a conspiratorial look with Sitwell, "So you guys don't know?"

"Know what?" The woman was all ears, "Come on Mike tell us!"

"Permission to tell them, sir?"

"Permission granted," it wasn't a secret anyway.

"They're engaged," Mike stated proudly. He held both men in high regard, it was an honor to know them and it made him happy to have the privilege to call them his colleagues. They worked together on a few occasions.

"Who? Barton and Coulson's sister? Or daughter?"

"Marian," Mike groaned. Jasper snickered. "Barton and Coulson," Mike clarified.

"Oh," a shocked look appeared on her face before a pleased smile replaced it. "Cute," she almost squealed.

"He's a fag?... They're fags?" Andy frowned.

"Shut up man, love is love," Antonio hissed. His little brother was gay and he knew firsthand how hard life could be for homosexuals. His brother got beaten up a lot when they were younger.

Jasper narrowed his eyes, "do you have a problem?"

"No, sir." Andy decided to keep his opinion to himself, for now.

"Good," Marian huffed. "How long are they together? I'd never have thought that one of them prefers men. And now they're an item."

"For years," Jasper patted her on the back. "It all started the day they met. They needed a long time to reach the official relationship status, but that was the beginning of something I envy them for."

"A fairytale comes true," she sighed.

"I wouldn't call it fairytale. Barton almost bled out in Coulson's arms; in the middle of HQ. Both men escaped death by far more than once," Mike kept an eye on them just like all the other agents who had witnessed the tragedy years ago. What Deuce did demonstrated that agents weren't safe, there was no safe place on earth.

"He did? How did that happen?" Antonio folded his hands.

Jasper took over and told them what happened that day. He could see the hero-worship in most of his agent's eyes.

"That's gruesome," Marian started but stopped as the bathroom door opened. Clint threw the phone at Sitwell who caught it easily, "Is he coming?"

"No, I talked him out of it. He belongs where he is right now," Hawkeye crawled back into his bed.

"Good night Clint," Jasper said and stroke through Clint's hair, once. The archer's skin wasn't so hot anymore. "Greet him from me," he whispered.

"Will do," Clint whispered and was out like a light seconds later.

"Don't get yourself into trouble," Andy warned.

"Don't worry I'm their friend. Coulson will shoot us all should we cause him harm in any way."

"He can't do that," Andy huffed in annoyance.

"Fury cans."

"What does he have to do with it?"

"They're his best friends. Harming Barton ends with Coulson, Fury, Romanoff, Hill and me on your heels." It wasn't a threat, it was a promise.

Andy swallowed hard, "didn't know he's so high ranking."

"He isn't yet but handpicked by them. He will make it to level 7 within the next two years. Maybe ten by three. He's valuable and reliable."

"I should find some mighty friends too," he muttered..

"Shame on you Andy. He worked hard right?" Marian's gaze wandered from Andy to Jasper.

"He did. Barton is a fighter," Jasper said with adoration in his voice. Clint was a strong man and behind his tough attitude very kind. Sitwell envied his strength, his willpower and loyalty. His background story on the other hand, what made Clint the man he was now, was something he didn't envy. Sometimes he felt pity for the archer.

"Phil," Clint whispered barely audible, communicating with his lover in his sleep.

Jasper sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his friend's cheek. His skin was warm where the sun hurt the skin but the other parts felt normal. No fever, the pain seems to have faded, good boy.

Jasper readjusted Clint's blanket before he slipped into his own bed. "Time to sleep," he ordered. They had a long day ahead of them. A chorus of 'Yes, sir,' followed.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"How is your nest?"

"Better, sir, and the hat does wonders to my frying brain," Clint felt by far better than the night before. His skin was sensitive but that was nothing he wasn't used to as a sniper. The brutality of mother nature was one lesson life, and Phil, taught him the hardest way possible.

"There isn't much to fry," Andy teased with a serious undertone.

"Don't need much to shoot you," Clint stated matter-of-factly.

Marian chuckled, "Good one." Mike hummed in agreement while Antonio slapped the back of Andy's head.

"Silence," Sitwell ordered and Clint could see the tension on his handler's face, mixed with a hint of worry. Jasper sighed inwardly, homophobes were everywhere and had a right to form their own opinion but Sitwell wished they'd keep it to themselves. Hurting people just because you don't hold their preferences in high regard was plain wrong. It was unfair. Jasper made up his mind and decided to file a complaint against Andy , the man was an agent after all. He should behave professional and respect his fellow comrades, especially higher ranking agents.

"Sir, there's something wrong. There's a convoy. Bullet proof cars, three of them. Around three to four people per car," Clint informed them. "Damn what the...," there was not enough time to finish the sentence as occupants of the cars opened fire. They didn't fire at the agents but at the strip club, not caring for civilians.

"Cover the civilians, Hawkeye take them out."

Clint chose an explosive arrowhead and hoped the car wasn't as explosive resistant as it looked like. To their luck, it wasn't. The engine exploded and Clint could see three men who tried to get out of the car but they didn't make it in time. The fire engulfed them, ripping them apart.

The passengers of the other cars jumped out of their SUV's in case more bombs were planted. They were unaware of Clint's presence. Sitwell's men on the other hand, dressed in black suits, attracted a lot of attention. Clint put his bow down to take his rifle, aim, breath, fire. He took most of them out, but two were left.

"Hawkeye," Marian's frantic voice echoed through his radio.

"I'm on my way," he got up in search of a better position to provide accurate back up. Before he reached a better spot to aim one of the villains took a bazooka out of the trunk of a SUV.

Clint cursed, he should have destroyed the cars to make sure something like this doesn't happen.

The man aimed at the club, including two agents and five civilians. Clint shot the man but the other one was faster. He picked up the bazooka, took cover and released the missile a millisecond before Clint fired his shot, sending a bullet between the enemies eyes.

Clint ran as fast as he could and jumped, crashing into the fire ladder of the building next door as the missile hit the roof he had hid on moments ago. He lost his hold on the ladder as heat and debris rained down on him. He grabbed a rusty rung before he hit the ground but the metal gave in barely slowing Clint down. His body hit the hard asphalt. The rusty rung had done nothing to stop his fall but hurting his shoulder in addition to the hard impact with the asphalt. Clint landed hard on his back, hitting his head too. He could feel how glass and debris dug into his skin, penetrating his vest at some points. Clint waited for the dust to fade before he took a few deep breaths and stood up. His head spun and his vision was blurry but it was not the right time to falter. He looked around, searching for Jasper and his team, spotting them over at the club. Taking the mark into custody, Hawkeye had no idea where he came from but it didn't matter as long as they had him.

Marian had a gash on her handsome face, Antonio cradled his arm against his chest. Probably broken in two spots. Mike looked fine but a barely visible line of pain on his face when he moved told a different story. Sprained ankle if not worse. Andy took a bullet to the shoulder, through and through, and glared at Jasper as he applied pressure to the wound. Sitwell, aside from soot and dust, looked unharmed.

Clint squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to clear his vision, concussion awesome, he thought sarcastically.

"Hawkeye, report," Jasper barked out after he made sure Andy wasn't bleeding out.

"Dirty," the archer stated dryly. He hated being covered in dust, grime and blood.

"Meet us at the safe house," Sitwell ordered as sirens came closer.

"Copy that," Clint was proud at how strong his voice sounded. He gave the SUV one last glance before he vanished in the shadows, blending in with the homeless and forgotten.

::::::::::::::::

"Sitwell," oh-oh. "Yes, sir. No sir. On his way sir. Should be here any moment. Yes, sir. I understand, sir." Jasper hung up, letting out a long and suffering sigh.

"Fury chewing us out for blowing the mission?" Marian rubbed her neck.

"I wish it was. Coulson," he waved with his phone. "Damn, is he angry. I don't want to know how pissed Fury is right now."

"It wasn't our fault," Antonio almost pouted.

"They're angry for leaving Barton behind. Speaking of Barton where is he?"

"How does he know that?" Marian blinked in confusion.

"You don't want to know," Mike put a pack of frozen peas on his ankle. "But he's right we should have picked him up."

"He was too far away. The police would have caught us," Jasper eyed their prisoner. He was still out from the drug.

Sitwell's phone vibrated again. Fury ordered them to meet with Black Widow at the new rendezvous place. She would wait for them until they were all on board.

He didn't get the chance to object but he had the slight feeling that Barton was already there. Nick would have chewed him out even more would Clint still be missing. Or Romanoff had come to liquidate him and his team. He shivered, "Let's go." His team followed him in silence, no one dared to say anything.

They arrived at the little private airport, Romanoff was waiting impatiently in front of the plane. "Hurry," she glared, leading them into the spacious plane.

Three doctors were on board, two of them cared for a unmoving figure at the other end of the plane.

A nurse and the third doctor treated Andy while three more nurses looked after Marian, Mike and Antonio.

"Finished?" A annoyed voice on the other end of the room caught their attention.

"Barton," Jasper sighed with relief. He knew the man was Barton the moment they entered the plane but he had been too scared to take a closer look.

"Hold still," a doctor hissed. "Almost pushed the shard deeper into your flesh instead of pulling it out."

"Aww, Jackson, didn't know you cared," Clint said amused.

"Never said I care," the man huffed but there was amusement in his voice too. They knew each other for a long time. He was still a trainee at the time Barton got stabbed in the neck.

"How are you?" Jasper approached them, giving Barton a once over. The kid didn't look well.

"Fine, sir," but the light slur in his tone told Jasper otherwise.

"Concussion?"

"Yes, sir." The second doctor confirmed, "Cuts, flesh wounds from flying debris, bruises, strained muscles, abrasions. We have to run more tests to rule out internal injuries and brain damage." They didn't like the way Clint responded to their treatment much. He was too cooperative and he was hiding how lousy he must feel. That was something he only did whenever something was wrong. He whined about scratches and nasty doctors but he never complained about things like broke bones and blood loss.

"He'll shoot me on sight," Sitwell rubbed with a hand over his face.

"You're exaggerating," Clint offered him a reassuring smile. It wasn't very convincing but it lightened his mood a little. "Am not," he returned Clint's smile. "You scared me. Don't do that again, I lost at least ten years of my life."

"Then don't let them shoot at me," the archer deadpanned. Coaxing a tired chuckle out of his handler. "How does he put up with you smart-ass?"

"Love makes blind, and obviously deaf and brain damaged too."

"Take better care of yourself," he placed a hand on Clint's uninjured cheek until the archer nodded in confirmation.

"Will do sir," Barton's voice sounded low and it got harder and harder to stay awake.

"Clint?" Jasper's worried voice was the last thing he heard. "Don't sleep."

::::::::::::::::::::::

"Do that again and I will shoot you," was the first thing he heard as he made his way out of the darkness. Clint opened his eyes, looking straight at Phil. His lover looked like shit. Dark circles beneath his eyes, pale skin and lines of worry on his handsome face. "What are you doing here?... You should be with Rogers...," he whispered.

"Why should I? He gets along with the staff, you on the other hand need some help in that regard." Phil inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly as the tension began to fade.

"Sorry, I cut your trip short," Clint sighed. He ruined Phil's chance to be friends with Captain America.

"I am where I belong," Phil assure. "I am where I'm needed most. and my hearts wants to be here with you," he caressed his archer's forehead. He had been angry at first but after reading the files he knew it was no one's fault. Shit like that happened.

"How are the others?" Clint needed to know, was taking the risk useful? Or did I hurt Phil for nothing again?

"They're fine," Phil got up from his chair and gave Clint a gentle kiss. "You're the only one truly hurt."

"How bad is it?"

"No internal injuries and no lasting brain damage, you had a swelling though. But it's gone." Phil took a deep and shaky breath, "You fractured your skull, not badly but... you idiot fractured your skull!" Coulson suppressed the urge to punch Clint in the shoulder.

"That's a first," Clint closed his eyes. The pain level was increasing every passing minute.

"I told you, do it again and I shoot you," Phil's eyes were glued to Clint's handsome face, and bruised, face. The archer looked even more vulnerable than he normally did whenever he let his mask drop in private. His life wasn't in danger, no real touch and go, but it hurt seeing him that way. It reminded him painfully of Deuce's attack. He was secretly glad that he did not witness the incident. One less tragedy that burned itself into his mind. His own imagination was cruel enough. Whenever he closed his eyes, he imagined the jump, the fall and the building crumbling down on him.

"Snap out of it," the rising fear inside the bond felt uncomfortable and told Clint everything he needed to know. He felt even more guilty for getting hurt.

Phil blinked a few time to usher away the fog that clouded his mind. "I might change my mind on shoot Jasper instead."

Clint laughed, wincing in pain."Confirming his worst fear, sir."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. He took care of me Phil. He cares for me."

"Good," He'd have hated to get rid of Jasper. "Get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."

Clint closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep. He was in and out of it for the next two days.

"Good morning Clint," Phil kissed Clint's cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Phil had slept at home after Clint and nurse Betty convinced him to take a break. "How was the night?"

"Lonely," Phil replied truthfully. I couldn't sleep and passed out around three in the morning. A knock on the door brought a sense of fear and joy into the bond, Clint totally forgot what he wanted to say as Phil yelled, "Enter."

Nick, Natasha and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s head priest entered, confusing Clint even more.

Priest Michaels job was it to grant dying agents in the field their absolution. "Am I dying? Phil you said I'm fine."

Natasha chuckled, "No you dummy. It's your wedding day."

"My... what?"

"We don't have time to waste, I should have married you weeks ago, months even."

"It's time?" A huge smile illuminated Clint's face. He felt unworthy and so out of Phil's league that it was almost painful but he knew Phil Coulson would never marry him when he wasn't absolutely sure and in love.

"It is kid," Fury granted him a rare smile. "You gave us a scare kid. You're not going anywhere for a while, not of I can help it."

"Sorry, sir," Clint lowered his gaze. Nick's sentiment made him feel awkward. But nothing could compare with the crushing feeling he got whenever he disappointed his boss, okay disappointing Phil was worse but not by much.

"Not your fault. a disaster was unavoidable."

"Getting crushed by a building was."

"Was not," that was an order. Phil chuckled at his old friend. The director liked Clint so much that he let his facade down, giving him hints that he really cared.

"Rings?" Michaels asked while their boss was busy bantering with Barton.

She pulled a box out of her décolleté, he had no idea where she had space enough to hide it but he decided not to ask.

"Pretty right?" She was happy for her friends, it was about time that they finally knot the tie. They deserved each other, Phil was a very lonely person, that's what she'd observed during her time with them. Coulson had friends at work but no one except Clint to come home to. Clint on the other hand was the most lost and broken soul with a will to live she ever met.

Phil was Clint's anchor to the world, to life.

"I'd like to wed him before he passes out again," Phil interrupted impatiently and with a hint of humor.

"Oh of course," Fury stepped back and Michaels took his place in front of the couple. He quoted the verses, and was glad for the chance to form a bond of love in devotion in the name of god, and his grace. It was way better than absolution, listening to sins, adultery and homicide. After he said what he had to say both agents exchanged their vows. They made them up spontaneously, letting their hearts and bond speak.

Natasha gave them the rings, showing to Clint every gravure on the inside, a bow and date in Phil's ring and a berretta and the date in Clint's ring.

Phil had bought plain platinum bands, Clint wasn't a woman and even if he would have been he would never be the kind of woman who appreciates diamonds and gold.

Phil was fairly certain Clint would be happy with a plastic ring or key chain as long as it was something he gave Clint.

Clint was a modest person, he rarely bought anything expensive for himself. Important wasn't the price but the meaning behind every object he got.

You can kiss the groom," the priest grinned as they stared at each other. The priest interrupted Phil's train of thoughts and he blushed.

Clint laughed despite the embarrassment he felt, "Come here." He tugged on Phil's hand urging him closer, "I want my kiss."

Phil smiled down at Clint for a moment before he brought their lips together, loving and sweet.

Their friends took more pictures before they sneaked out of the room to grant them time alone. The newlyweds used the time they had to hold hands and communicate through the bond. They were happy and totally in love.

"You should sleep some more," Phil smiled gently. It was hard to believe that they were finally married. Clint was his, death failed again. "I can take you home it five days."

"Five,... oh," he groaned. "I want to go home now." Clint closed his eyes, as much as he hated medical he couldn't deny that he was tired, and would be for a few more days.

"I know you do but the doctors are right. you need rest and medical attention; and rehab."

"I know," the archer sighed. "Go home," he opened his eyes a little, studying his husband. It was hard to believe that they had married that morning. Clinton, Francis Barton-Coulson. He liked the sound of it, very much. Their marriage proved home much his stunt had scared Coulson. The older man felt the urge to marry him in medical, that gesture spoke louder than words or the bond could.

Being married was awesome but frightening at the same time.

"Already tired of me?" Phil smirked.

"Never," Clint grinned, raising his hand to watch the platinum bond on his finger. "You're awesome." My wish came true.

"I know."

"I know you do. At work at least," in private Phil was rather insecure. "You need sleep and a good meal."

"I'd rather stay right here," Coulson settled down on the edge of Clint's bed, taking the archer's hand into his own. Bringing their rings together until their rings touched.

"It's uncomfortable, noisy and not good for your well-being," Clint argued but Phil could feel that Clint's heart wasn't in it. The archer was glad not to be alone but he was worried though.

"I'm fine. I slept at home last night and I ate Chinese, I'm good."

"But."

"No but. I don't need a bed or Captain fucking America as long as I have you," the only reason he had left the day before was the goal to take Clint's worry away. His heart had been in it the day before.

Clint's eyes widened, "I'll never let you live this down." Captain fucking America.

"I hope so," in case you doubt your worth again. "Now sleep. You can barely stay awake."

"Good night hubby mine," Clint squeezed Phil hand with a loving expression on his face.

"Sleep well," Phil placed a kiss on Clint's hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

Clint hummed in agreement, too far gone to really comprehend what Coulson had said.

Phil lay down on the bed and closed his eyes while he wrapped his arms securely around his husband. He finally granted himself the rest he needed so much.

:::::::::::::::