![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: Six Months
by:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathierif_fic
Fandom: MCU // The Avengers
Pairing: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: This is a transformative fanwork. No profit is being made (apart from emotional satisfaction).
Summary: Nick Fury enters Clint's room with a grim expression on his face and a cat carrier in his hand, and Clint feels as if he can't breathe anymore.
A/Ns: Sequel to "The Only Way To Land" and Part 3 of the Pepper-verse. This fills the "grief"-square of my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hc_bingo card. 2477 words.
Clint's room in SHIELD's headquarters is barely big enough to pace four steps in every direction. Grey and without much of a personal touch, besides the arrow sticking out of a wall and a haphazardly thrown t-shirt that is hanging precariously off the back of the desk chair, it has all the charm of a cheap hotel room or a prison cell.
Clint doesn't particularly care, even when he's confined to the room for the foreseeable future. He knows how much damage he caused when he was under Loki's influence, knows that SHIELD and Fury need to make sure he's back to himself. As soon as he returned after his brief stint with the Avengers, he was politely asked to stay here, and he didn't fight the order.
He knows why he's here.
He understands Fury's reasoning.
He even agrees with it.
Besides, he has nowhere else to go. Phil is dead, killed by Loki, and as much as Phil's apartment had turned into a home for him, he feels as if he doesn't deserve to go there right now.
It's his fault Loki managed to kill Phil. Without his help, Loki wouldn't have managed to escape from his cell, and if he hadn't managed to escape, he also wouldn't have killed Phil.
His thoughts circle while he stays where he is, on his back on his cot, arms folded under his head. His back aches, his heart aches, and he is trying to work, again and again, through the fuzzy memories of his time as Loki's thrall, trying to determine if there was anything he could have done differently.
He didn't kill Natasha, or Fury, no matter how much he felt compelled to do so by the blue invasion of his mind. He didn't do it.
But Phil is dead.
It's an infernal circle, and it's one he can't escape from on his own.
~*+*~
Fury is polite enough to knock, but he doesn't wait for Clint to ask him in. He's dressed in black, as usual, and he's looking down at Clint with a grim expression on his face.
In his hand, he's holding a cat carrier he carefully puts down on the floor, next to Clint's boots.
"Agent Barton," he greets.
Clint can't look up into his face. His eyes are unable to pull away from the plastic box. He can see the edge of a towel in it, and a dark shadow pressed into the far corner of the carrier, and an invisible weight is pressing down on his chest and stops him from breathing and from running away from this situation.
"Sir," he forces himself to say, acknowledging Fury's greeting. Blood rushes in his ears, and he feels strangely detached from the whole situation.
This isn't happening.
"I realize that this is against regulations," Fury says, "but he would've wanted you to keep her."
The ache in Clint's chest magnifies. He swallows thickly against the thick lump in his throat.
"Yes, sir." He doesn't know how he manages to say the words.
"SHIELD is taking care of the rest of his belongings," Fury says. "If there is anything you want, you should let Agent Hill know."
At least half a dozen things jump to Clint's mind, but he knows that he won't ask Hill for any of them. He simply nods.
"As soon as Psych clears you, you'll be re-assigned to the Avengers Initiative. I hear Tony Stark extended an invitation to all the Avengers to move into his tower with him." Fury regards him with a long, almost kind look. "It might be for the best if you take him up on that offer, Agent. For all of us."
Clint nods again.
They sit in silence for a long moment, then Fury sighs. "He was my friend, too," he says quietly. "And if he could see you right now, he would kick your ass. You know that, Barton."
Clint somehow manages a smile. It feels like a grimace, foreign and strange on his face, and it does nothing to make him feel any better, but Fury seems to be satisfied. He reaches out, squeezes Clint's shoulder briefly, and then leaves, not without the promise of getting one of the junior agents to take care of the necessities of a cat living with him temporarily.
Clint waits until he's alone before he sits down crosslegged on the floor and opens the cat carrier.
And then, he waits.
~*+*~
Pepper-the-cat misses Phil as much as Clint does, he's sure, and she curls up against his side, her head resting on his shoulder and her claws tangled in his t-shirt.
He doesn't mind. Pepper-the-cat is warm and offers comfort in a way that nothing else can. She's a tangible reminder of Phil, something he loved almost as much as his Captain America-collectibles.
He curls himself around her and buries his face in her grey fur.
She lets him.
Clint's eyes burn, but he doesn't cry. He just holds on to the cat throughout the night.
And the next.
And the one after that.
~+*+~
"Nobody said anything about a cat, Hawkeye," Tony says by way of greeting.
Clint carefully shifts his bowcase and his duffelbag and puts the cat carrier on the ground before he straightens to his full height, to look Tony in the eye.
"She's Phil's," he simply says.
Tony's mouth snaps shut with an audible click.
He doesn't say anything else about the presence of a cat in the Tower, at least not where Clint can hear it.
~*+*~
Clint stumbles into Tony's kitchen - the one they all use - one morning, still half-asleep, Pepper-the-cat twining around his legs and mewling. Clint's been gone the past three days on a mission for SHIELD, and he only returned late last night to find the cat on her customary spot on his side of the bed.
It doesn't matter that it's just his bed now, not his and Phil's anymore, he still sleeps on the same side as ever, and the cat does, as well. She greeted him the same way she used to greet Phil when he came home, and just like Phil, he took the time to sit down and pet her before taking a long, hot shower.
He woke up early in the morning because she settled down on his chest, purring and kneading his t-shirt, and he doesn't need to check to know that his chest is still covered in tiny red marks from her claws.
"Good morning."
He looks up and finds himself face to face with Pepper Potts.
It's the first time they really meet. Pepper has been in California, taking care of Stark Industries from there, since before Clint moved into the Tower. She's beautiful, he realizes, and she's looking at him with sharp eyes. Next to her cup of coffee, he can see an open file and her phone.
It's no wonder she impressed Phil, he thinks.
"Pepper, Clint," Tony calls out an introduction from his spot by the coffee maker. Steve, who is busy cooking breakfast, has to move around him, but then, he is used to it. Getting between Tony and his coffee in the morning is somewhat of a foolish thing to do.
"It's nice to meet you, finally," Pepper says before her eyes flicker down. "And this is...?"
Clint feels himself flush. It's impossible that Tony didn't tell her about the cat, he tells himself. She has to know about the cat, has to know everything Tony knows. He can't imagine Tony not using the opportunity to try to embarrass and set up the people around him, even if he's only doing it because he wants to find out how they tick, how they react.
He bends down and picks the cat up. Holding her against his chest, he brushes his palm over the back of her neck, fingers digging into her fur the way she likes it.
She arches into the touch and then headbutts him before squirming out of his grip and pressing herself against his legs again.
Pepper is still waiting for an answer, and Clint takes a deep breath. "That's Pepper-the-cat," he mumbles. "She's Phil's."
He doesn't wait for a reaction, doesn't look at her face. Instead, he goes for the box of kibble and pours some into her bowl.
As soon as the food is in the bowl, Pepper-the-cat forgets everything else around her. Clint is used to that - there's only one thing that rates above kibble for Pepper, and that's Phil.
"Kibble - the best thing since sliced mammoth," Tony comments from his spot before slurping down some of his coffee.
Clint smoothes his hand over Pepper-the-cat's back and straightens.
"Her name is..." Pepper asks, and Clint gives her a twitch of the lips that could count as a smile.
"She's Phil's," he says again, as if that explains everything, and that makes her narrow her eyes at him as if she knows something he doesn't.
Maybe she does.
Clint doesn't exactly care.
Naming the cat Pepper had been a joke, a way to gently mock Phil for his little crush on Tony Stark's PA. He'd been impressed by her, Clint had been able to tell during the few phone conversations he'd had with Phil while Phil had been assigned to try and debrief Stark. If he's honest, Clint has to admit that he named the cat Pepper, back when he found her, because he hoped that it would convince Phil to keep her.
"Breakfast's ready," Steve announces firmly, breaking the silence that has fallen across the room. "Sit down, Clint, please. Ma'am?"
Clint takes his usual seat at the table, and it doesn't take long for silky fur to press against his bare leg.
The others pretend not to notice when Clint shares a tiny piece of bacon with her. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't stop himself.
She's all he has left from Phil. Spoiling her a little is all he can do to fill up the gaping hole Phil's death left in his chest.
~*+*~
It's Avengers movie night at the Tower, and the six of them plus Pepper plus Jane are sprawled out across Tony's living room. Pepper-the-cat is there, too, curled up on Clint's chest and purring softly.
Clint barely manages to focus on the movie. Something's going on, some sort of tension is keeping Natasha from leaning properly against his side, and it's enough to make him feel nervous. Petting Pepper-the-cat helps with that, but he wishes Natasha would just tell him what is going on.
Pepper Potts silently reaches out and brushes her fingertips across her namesake's head. Clint doesn't know if she feels the tension, as well, but he hopes she doesn't.
They just got Tony back from the hospital. She has enough on her plate without any weird vibrations.
Tony is lying stretched out next to Pepper, his head half in her lap, his feet in Steve's. He's pale and quieter than usual due to the painkillers, but he's here, he's alive, and he will be as good as new as soon as his broken wrist heals.
Jane is curled up between Bruce and Thor on the second couch, a small smile on her face while she leans against Thor's chest. For a split second, Clint feels a sharp wave of jealousy crash through him.
Phil's been gone for almost six months now.
He can't have anymore what Jane does.
All he has is Pepper-the-cat, who suddenly lifts her head and swivels her ears toward the elevator.
Seconds later, Jarvis' voice announces "Director Fury, sir."
"What does Fury want here? At this time?" Steve wonders while Tony pauses the movie.
Natasha stills.
"He's here about the new SHIELD liaison," she says calmly.
Too calmly.
She's hiding something. Natasha knows what's going on, and she's hiding it from them.
"New SHIELD liaison?" Steve asks, at the same time as Tony says, "You know something, don't you, of course you do, you always do, who is it, is it Hill?"
"No," Natasha says, just as the elevator arrives with a discreet chime.
Pepper-the-cat hops off Clint's lap and pads over to the elevator, her tail straight up in the air.
She doesn't usually greet Fury like that, Clint knows. Pepper isn't afraid of Fury, likes to curl up next to him whenever Fury sits down somewhere in her vicinity for long enough, but she generally prefers to observe him from a distance for a while before she gets closer.
Natasha's nails dig sharply into Clint's arm when Fury steps into the room, and behind him...
Pepper-the-cat purrs loud enough to be heard across the room, but maybe that's because the Avengers are frozen to their spots and speechless. Loki could waltz in right now, Clint thinks, tapdancing and declaring his undying love for Odin, and none of the Avengers would be more surprised than they are now.
"Son of a..." Tony grunts and struggles into a sitting position. His eyes are unnaturally wide.
"Gentlemen. Ladies." Fury gives them all a long look. "I want you to meet your new SHIELD-liaison."
Their new SHIELD-liaison is dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks, and right now, he's kneeling on the floor, trembling hands curled around the cat rubbing herself against every piece of him she can reach.
"Is this a joke?" It's Thor who breaks the silence to ask the question that's probably on all their minds.
"Do you see me laughing?" Fury replies. "This is a serious matter of world-wide security. Agent Coulson was not supposed to be cleared for fieldwork yet."
They all know why the Avengers need a new liaison - their last one got caught in the same attack that caused Tony's injuries.
He wasn't as lucky as Iron Man.
Tony is on his feet now. "Let me ask the scientific question that is on all of our minds," he says, swaying slightly. "What the fuck?"
Fury opens his mouth to explain, but Clint can't. The gaping hole in his chest is still wide open, burning like fire, and Phil is still kneeling on the ground, smiling at his cat, their cat, and Clint can't.
He pulls away from Natasha's grip on his arm. Blood is rushing loudly in his ears.
He can't.
Turning around, he leaves without a single word, locks himself into Tony's bathroom and uses a ventilation shaft to get to his own room, where he can fall apart in peace.
Phil is alive.
He doesn't know how, or why nobody told them sooner. Natasha obviously knew, her nervosity makes a lot more sense in hindsight, but she didn't tell him either.
Phil is alive. He is not dead.
It's been six months since Clint saw Phil last.
Six months in which he thought Phil was dead.
Clint curls up in the dark corner behind his bed and shakes apart.
~end.
by:
kathierif_ficFandom: MCU // The Avengers
Pairing: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: This is a transformative fanwork. No profit is being made (apart from emotional satisfaction).
Summary: Nick Fury enters Clint's room with a grim expression on his face and a cat carrier in his hand, and Clint feels as if he can't breathe anymore.
A/Ns: Sequel to "The Only Way To Land" and Part 3 of the Pepper-verse. This fills the "grief"-square of my
hc_bingo card. 2477 words.Clint's room in SHIELD's headquarters is barely big enough to pace four steps in every direction. Grey and without much of a personal touch, besides the arrow sticking out of a wall and a haphazardly thrown t-shirt that is hanging precariously off the back of the desk chair, it has all the charm of a cheap hotel room or a prison cell.
Clint doesn't particularly care, even when he's confined to the room for the foreseeable future. He knows how much damage he caused when he was under Loki's influence, knows that SHIELD and Fury need to make sure he's back to himself. As soon as he returned after his brief stint with the Avengers, he was politely asked to stay here, and he didn't fight the order.
He knows why he's here.
He understands Fury's reasoning.
He even agrees with it.
Besides, he has nowhere else to go. Phil is dead, killed by Loki, and as much as Phil's apartment had turned into a home for him, he feels as if he doesn't deserve to go there right now.
It's his fault Loki managed to kill Phil. Without his help, Loki wouldn't have managed to escape from his cell, and if he hadn't managed to escape, he also wouldn't have killed Phil.
His thoughts circle while he stays where he is, on his back on his cot, arms folded under his head. His back aches, his heart aches, and he is trying to work, again and again, through the fuzzy memories of his time as Loki's thrall, trying to determine if there was anything he could have done differently.
He didn't kill Natasha, or Fury, no matter how much he felt compelled to do so by the blue invasion of his mind. He didn't do it.
But Phil is dead.
It's an infernal circle, and it's one he can't escape from on his own.
~*+*~
Fury is polite enough to knock, but he doesn't wait for Clint to ask him in. He's dressed in black, as usual, and he's looking down at Clint with a grim expression on his face.
In his hand, he's holding a cat carrier he carefully puts down on the floor, next to Clint's boots.
"Agent Barton," he greets.
Clint can't look up into his face. His eyes are unable to pull away from the plastic box. He can see the edge of a towel in it, and a dark shadow pressed into the far corner of the carrier, and an invisible weight is pressing down on his chest and stops him from breathing and from running away from this situation.
"Sir," he forces himself to say, acknowledging Fury's greeting. Blood rushes in his ears, and he feels strangely detached from the whole situation.
This isn't happening.
"I realize that this is against regulations," Fury says, "but he would've wanted you to keep her."
The ache in Clint's chest magnifies. He swallows thickly against the thick lump in his throat.
"Yes, sir." He doesn't know how he manages to say the words.
"SHIELD is taking care of the rest of his belongings," Fury says. "If there is anything you want, you should let Agent Hill know."
At least half a dozen things jump to Clint's mind, but he knows that he won't ask Hill for any of them. He simply nods.
"As soon as Psych clears you, you'll be re-assigned to the Avengers Initiative. I hear Tony Stark extended an invitation to all the Avengers to move into his tower with him." Fury regards him with a long, almost kind look. "It might be for the best if you take him up on that offer, Agent. For all of us."
Clint nods again.
They sit in silence for a long moment, then Fury sighs. "He was my friend, too," he says quietly. "And if he could see you right now, he would kick your ass. You know that, Barton."
Clint somehow manages a smile. It feels like a grimace, foreign and strange on his face, and it does nothing to make him feel any better, but Fury seems to be satisfied. He reaches out, squeezes Clint's shoulder briefly, and then leaves, not without the promise of getting one of the junior agents to take care of the necessities of a cat living with him temporarily.
Clint waits until he's alone before he sits down crosslegged on the floor and opens the cat carrier.
And then, he waits.
~*+*~
Pepper-the-cat misses Phil as much as Clint does, he's sure, and she curls up against his side, her head resting on his shoulder and her claws tangled in his t-shirt.
He doesn't mind. Pepper-the-cat is warm and offers comfort in a way that nothing else can. She's a tangible reminder of Phil, something he loved almost as much as his Captain America-collectibles.
He curls himself around her and buries his face in her grey fur.
She lets him.
Clint's eyes burn, but he doesn't cry. He just holds on to the cat throughout the night.
And the next.
And the one after that.
~+*+~
"Nobody said anything about a cat, Hawkeye," Tony says by way of greeting.
Clint carefully shifts his bowcase and his duffelbag and puts the cat carrier on the ground before he straightens to his full height, to look Tony in the eye.
"She's Phil's," he simply says.
Tony's mouth snaps shut with an audible click.
He doesn't say anything else about the presence of a cat in the Tower, at least not where Clint can hear it.
~*+*~
Clint stumbles into Tony's kitchen - the one they all use - one morning, still half-asleep, Pepper-the-cat twining around his legs and mewling. Clint's been gone the past three days on a mission for SHIELD, and he only returned late last night to find the cat on her customary spot on his side of the bed.
It doesn't matter that it's just his bed now, not his and Phil's anymore, he still sleeps on the same side as ever, and the cat does, as well. She greeted him the same way she used to greet Phil when he came home, and just like Phil, he took the time to sit down and pet her before taking a long, hot shower.
He woke up early in the morning because she settled down on his chest, purring and kneading his t-shirt, and he doesn't need to check to know that his chest is still covered in tiny red marks from her claws.
"Good morning."
He looks up and finds himself face to face with Pepper Potts.
It's the first time they really meet. Pepper has been in California, taking care of Stark Industries from there, since before Clint moved into the Tower. She's beautiful, he realizes, and she's looking at him with sharp eyes. Next to her cup of coffee, he can see an open file and her phone.
It's no wonder she impressed Phil, he thinks.
"Pepper, Clint," Tony calls out an introduction from his spot by the coffee maker. Steve, who is busy cooking breakfast, has to move around him, but then, he is used to it. Getting between Tony and his coffee in the morning is somewhat of a foolish thing to do.
"It's nice to meet you, finally," Pepper says before her eyes flicker down. "And this is...?"
Clint feels himself flush. It's impossible that Tony didn't tell her about the cat, he tells himself. She has to know about the cat, has to know everything Tony knows. He can't imagine Tony not using the opportunity to try to embarrass and set up the people around him, even if he's only doing it because he wants to find out how they tick, how they react.
He bends down and picks the cat up. Holding her against his chest, he brushes his palm over the back of her neck, fingers digging into her fur the way she likes it.
She arches into the touch and then headbutts him before squirming out of his grip and pressing herself against his legs again.
Pepper is still waiting for an answer, and Clint takes a deep breath. "That's Pepper-the-cat," he mumbles. "She's Phil's."
He doesn't wait for a reaction, doesn't look at her face. Instead, he goes for the box of kibble and pours some into her bowl.
As soon as the food is in the bowl, Pepper-the-cat forgets everything else around her. Clint is used to that - there's only one thing that rates above kibble for Pepper, and that's Phil.
"Kibble - the best thing since sliced mammoth," Tony comments from his spot before slurping down some of his coffee.
Clint smoothes his hand over Pepper-the-cat's back and straightens.
"Her name is..." Pepper asks, and Clint gives her a twitch of the lips that could count as a smile.
"She's Phil's," he says again, as if that explains everything, and that makes her narrow her eyes at him as if she knows something he doesn't.
Maybe she does.
Clint doesn't exactly care.
Naming the cat Pepper had been a joke, a way to gently mock Phil for his little crush on Tony Stark's PA. He'd been impressed by her, Clint had been able to tell during the few phone conversations he'd had with Phil while Phil had been assigned to try and debrief Stark. If he's honest, Clint has to admit that he named the cat Pepper, back when he found her, because he hoped that it would convince Phil to keep her.
"Breakfast's ready," Steve announces firmly, breaking the silence that has fallen across the room. "Sit down, Clint, please. Ma'am?"
Clint takes his usual seat at the table, and it doesn't take long for silky fur to press against his bare leg.
The others pretend not to notice when Clint shares a tiny piece of bacon with her. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't stop himself.
She's all he has left from Phil. Spoiling her a little is all he can do to fill up the gaping hole Phil's death left in his chest.
~*+*~
It's Avengers movie night at the Tower, and the six of them plus Pepper plus Jane are sprawled out across Tony's living room. Pepper-the-cat is there, too, curled up on Clint's chest and purring softly.
Clint barely manages to focus on the movie. Something's going on, some sort of tension is keeping Natasha from leaning properly against his side, and it's enough to make him feel nervous. Petting Pepper-the-cat helps with that, but he wishes Natasha would just tell him what is going on.
Pepper Potts silently reaches out and brushes her fingertips across her namesake's head. Clint doesn't know if she feels the tension, as well, but he hopes she doesn't.
They just got Tony back from the hospital. She has enough on her plate without any weird vibrations.
Tony is lying stretched out next to Pepper, his head half in her lap, his feet in Steve's. He's pale and quieter than usual due to the painkillers, but he's here, he's alive, and he will be as good as new as soon as his broken wrist heals.
Jane is curled up between Bruce and Thor on the second couch, a small smile on her face while she leans against Thor's chest. For a split second, Clint feels a sharp wave of jealousy crash through him.
Phil's been gone for almost six months now.
He can't have anymore what Jane does.
All he has is Pepper-the-cat, who suddenly lifts her head and swivels her ears toward the elevator.
Seconds later, Jarvis' voice announces "Director Fury, sir."
"What does Fury want here? At this time?" Steve wonders while Tony pauses the movie.
Natasha stills.
"He's here about the new SHIELD liaison," she says calmly.
Too calmly.
She's hiding something. Natasha knows what's going on, and she's hiding it from them.
"New SHIELD liaison?" Steve asks, at the same time as Tony says, "You know something, don't you, of course you do, you always do, who is it, is it Hill?"
"No," Natasha says, just as the elevator arrives with a discreet chime.
Pepper-the-cat hops off Clint's lap and pads over to the elevator, her tail straight up in the air.
She doesn't usually greet Fury like that, Clint knows. Pepper isn't afraid of Fury, likes to curl up next to him whenever Fury sits down somewhere in her vicinity for long enough, but she generally prefers to observe him from a distance for a while before she gets closer.
Natasha's nails dig sharply into Clint's arm when Fury steps into the room, and behind him...
Pepper-the-cat purrs loud enough to be heard across the room, but maybe that's because the Avengers are frozen to their spots and speechless. Loki could waltz in right now, Clint thinks, tapdancing and declaring his undying love for Odin, and none of the Avengers would be more surprised than they are now.
"Son of a..." Tony grunts and struggles into a sitting position. His eyes are unnaturally wide.
"Gentlemen. Ladies." Fury gives them all a long look. "I want you to meet your new SHIELD-liaison."
Their new SHIELD-liaison is dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks, and right now, he's kneeling on the floor, trembling hands curled around the cat rubbing herself against every piece of him she can reach.
"Is this a joke?" It's Thor who breaks the silence to ask the question that's probably on all their minds.
"Do you see me laughing?" Fury replies. "This is a serious matter of world-wide security. Agent Coulson was not supposed to be cleared for fieldwork yet."
They all know why the Avengers need a new liaison - their last one got caught in the same attack that caused Tony's injuries.
He wasn't as lucky as Iron Man.
Tony is on his feet now. "Let me ask the scientific question that is on all of our minds," he says, swaying slightly. "What the fuck?"
Fury opens his mouth to explain, but Clint can't. The gaping hole in his chest is still wide open, burning like fire, and Phil is still kneeling on the ground, smiling at his cat, their cat, and Clint can't.
He pulls away from Natasha's grip on his arm. Blood is rushing loudly in his ears.
He can't.
Turning around, he leaves without a single word, locks himself into Tony's bathroom and uses a ventilation shaft to get to his own room, where he can fall apart in peace.
Phil is alive.
He doesn't know how, or why nobody told them sooner. Natasha obviously knew, her nervosity makes a lot more sense in hindsight, but she didn't tell him either.
Phil is alive. He is not dead.
It's been six months since Clint saw Phil last.
Six months in which he thought Phil was dead.
Clint curls up in the dark corner behind his bed and shakes apart.
~end.