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Phil stared hard at the monitor in front of him. In one ear he heard what all the mics on stage were playing for the sold out Madison Square Garden audience. In the other he heard the backstage crew around him as they muttered and made sure everything was playing and working as it should.
Hawkeye and the Avengers were playing the last song prior to the encore-break to the captivated audience. Everything sounded perfect in his one ear, and the team around him seemed content, but Phil was less so.
“He’s putting himself out too much,” he explained to Maria, his trusted stage manager, standing next to him also watching the monitor. “He’s not going to make it.”
“He’ll make it to the top of the steps.” She wasn’t disagreeing necessarily. They both knew Clint now. He’d climb those stairs at the back of the stage. He’d turn to give the wave to the crowd, just as they’d rehearsed. But he wouldn’t make it back down. Phil knew she was right and flicked the channel on his backstage mic to the security team.
“Steve, I need you at the top of the back steps, just before you go into view. He’s not going to make it down.”
“I’m on it.” Was the reply and Phil didn’t have to glance up to know the head of security was making his way as instructed to wait for their vocalist.
The song above them began to recede. Each of the Avengers’ spotlights faded away and they disappeared backstage, until it was just Clint, singing, the audience, singing, and a single beam of light.
“Ready the black-out.” Maria stated into the crew’s headphones as Clint neared the last step. Phil watched his vocalist let the last note fade, and lift his hand in farewell. Maria didn’t wait for him to actually wave. “Black out!”
The last spotlight died and Phil looked up as Steve carried Clint in a full bridal-carry down the back steps into the backstage area. Phil nodded to Maria, knew she’d keep an eye on the crowd, listen for the cries of “encore” to get to be too much and then call him back. He followed Steve as he took Clint to the room they’d set aside for him and laid him on the waiting cot.
“Thanks Steve.” Phil nodded and quickly replaced him at Clint’s side. He pressed a hand to Clint’s cheek which was cold and clammy. He didn’t even stir and his breath was shallow. “Someone grab me…” A bottle of water was pressed into his hand and he glanced up as Natasha sat down next to Clint on the cot.
“Pushed himself too much.” She said quietly, touching one hand to his chest as it rose and fell. “Give him a minute and he’ll come back.”
“I should never have told him what Loki said.” Phil whispered to her, his eyes never leaving his vocalist’s face.
“He would have found out.” She replied without any heat. “Loki would have made sure of it.”
They didn’t have a chance to say much more when Clint’s eyes flew open and without really seeing either of them he struggled to sit up. Phil and Natasha made nearly identical arguments with him, in two different languages, namely that he needed to stay put. Once he recognized who was there with him, Clint stilled and settled back down.
“It’s encore-break.” Phil explained. “You made it to the top of the stairs, everything’s going great.”
Clint nodded and accepted the water bottle that Phil quickly opened and handed to him. He looked to Natasha as he downed the water and received a sincere nod which still made Phil bristle. Clint didn’t always trust Phil to tell him the truth, especially when a lie would be better for Clint’s health.
“I know you don’t want me to, but I need to do the encore.” Clint told Phil once he’d finished the bottle and let it fall to the floor beside the cot.
Internally Phil sighed. It was an argument they’d had a time or two before when Clint put too much of himself into a performance and collapsed, just as he’d done tonight. But he tried not to let any of it show on his face. “When have I ever not let you do an encore?” was his gentle reply.
“Rest.” Natasha patted his chest. “Tony and I will go argue on stage. Phil will make sure you’re up when it’s time.”
Clint nodded and Natasha gracefully exited the room. Phil quickly grabbed another bottle of water from the nearby table, intending to leave it at Clint’s side and follow the redhead but Clint grabbed his wrist.
“I’m sorry.” Clint whispered once his eyes met Phil’s.
“You don’t really have anything to apologize for.” Phil replied quietly in return. “I know how much this one means to you. You put your heart and soul into it. I would just prefer you left the stadium under your own power.” He grinned at Clint at the lighthearted jab and was rewarded with a timid smile in reply.
Phil moved to stand but as he did Clint gave his wrist a jerk and the older man found himself kissing his vocalist. Phil knew he let the kiss go on seconds too long, but damn the man really was irresistible. Clint let him pull gently away, watching him with a satisfied grin.
“Clint.” Phil admonished.
Clint’s smile widened. “I’ll stop when you stop kissing me back.” Was the quiet but cheeky reply.
“Rest.” Phil used two fingers to push the other man’s head back down onto the pillow. “I’ll go get everything ready.”
Clint nodded and shut his eyes. Once Phil was sure he’d rest he set the other water bottle on the cot next to Clint’s pillow and headed out into the hall. He tried not to jump when he realized that Natasha had waited for him, but her telling smirk said enough.
“Plan B, we’ll do the piano rise.” Phil explained to her as they walked back towards Maria’s station, the stadium above their heads was ringing with thousands of voices calling “Encore”.
Natasha merely nodded. “It will give him more time to rest.” She agreed. “Tony and I can distract them for a while and the piano solo will give him time to find his legs again.”
“He’s going to be laid up for weeks after this.” Phil frowned. “We’ll have to watch him to make sure he doesn’t get pneumonia.”
Natasha gave him a sideways glance. “True, but Loki will have no more lies to tell that will bring his songbird back to him. We keep him safe, just as we promised.”
Phil took his place next to Maria again, watching the darkened stage, half-listening to the audience which had moved on from calling for encore and instead was singing the chorus to the band’s latest ballad.
“Make sure we’re recording this.” He murmured to the nearest sound technician. Clint would want to hear the audience sing his words, even as he slept in preparation for singing it with them. “And prep the mid-stadium piano, we’re moving with Encore Plan B.”
Two years ago, if someone had told Phil he’d be managing the career of Clint Barton, fabled ‘songbird’ of the band Jotunn, he would have laughed in their face. Jotunn, and its manager and charismatic lead guitarist, Loki Laufeyson, had been selling out super arenas across North America and most of Europe. Every interview, every story was perfect and picturesque. They were the brightest happy family and nothing could come between them.
Until Phil had welcomed Natasha Romanova, vocalist and guitarist for the band Red Room, into his office along with a young man in a baseball cap with a hoodie pulled up over it and his head down. Once the door was closed and the hat was off, Phil found Clint Barton, Loki’s vocalist, sitting in his office begging for a contract with Shield Records, one that would keep him away from Loki, the rest of Jotunn and Black Order Records.
Jotunn’s contract was up with Black Order, and Loki was going member by member to get them all to sign up for another 10 years. Clint, so far, had managed to escape signing and was willing to do anything to escape not only his band leader, but the record company. Phil had heard Black Order was exacting, and that Loki could be a perfectionist, but the way Clint had acted in his office these descriptions had been gentle under exaggerations.
When the stars align to bring one of the world’s hottest vocal talents skulking into your office begging for a contract, you smile your gentlest smile and secretly steel your backbone against the backlash once he’d signed on the dotted line.
What Phil had not been expecting was for Loki to prey on Clint’s remarkably battered self-esteem in an attempt to try and get the singer to come crawling back to him, begging to be a part of Jotunn again. What Loki hadn’t expected in return, was for Phil, the rag tag ‘Avengers’ he’d cobbled together in a month’s notice, and a huge collection of former Jotunn fans, to rally around Clint to insulate him from his former bandmate’s dangerous words and convince him that staying with Shield Records was exactly what he needed to do.
“Lights up on Natasha.” Maria announced onto the back-stage mic, bringing Phil’s wandering mind back to the concert before him. He watched as a single spotlight lit up the darkened stage, Natasha was in her dark but flashy encore outfit, an amused smirk on her dark lips as the crowd started screaming. Phil was amazed at how quickly she’d been able to change, but then he had hired some of the best backstage crew in existence. The plan was she’d fiddle with her guitar for a long moment, revving the crowd up, until a second guitar would interrupt and she and Tony would engage in a battle of notes and wits to the crowd’s obvious delight.
“The Avengers are prepped, going to check on Clint.” Jemma Simmons’, their costume and make-up director, advised over the backstage channel.
“Piano’s ready to go.” Leo Fitz, director of instruments and sound-tech stated moments later.
“Disturbance at Stage Door 2.” Steve’s calm voice cut through the backstage chatter causing everyone in the crew to freeze. “Lockdown in place until further notice.”
Phil frowned, but Steve knew his business. He wouldn’t lockdown the backstage area during a concert without a very good reason. Phil looked around the room and found Bruce, The Avenger’s drummer, leaning back against a wall behind him, out of the way, but still able to see what was happening on stage. “Bruce, can you go wait with Clint?”
The quiet man nodded. He pushed himself away from the wall and moved off towards Clint’s room. He’d stay with the vocalist until the lockdown was finished. No one would get to Clint through him.
“What’s the commotion?” Thor boomed as he stepped into the backstage area, practically sparkling in his own encore-ensemble, startling all the techs still waiting for Steve to cancel the lockdown.
“Not sure yet.” Phil explained to the bassist. “I’m sure Steve’s got it handled.” He smiled at Thor’s disappointment; the man seemed to always be itching for a fight. Thor had delighted in showing Loki’s spies and cronies the door when they somehow managed to get too close, before Phil had managed to convince Steve and his security company to sign-on. Despite Loki being his half-brother, Thor took great joy in messing up Loki’s schemes to get Clint away from them. Phil wondered if it was game between them. Well, maybe for Thor it was a game, anyways.
“Phil, can you meet me at holding area 4?” Steve’s voice came back over the channel.
Phil frowned at Maria who knew the depths of Madison Square Gardens better than he did. “It’s the equipment cages,” She explained. “Where we lock up the equipment between being on stage and loading it onto the trucks.”
Phil glanced at the monitor. Tony and Natasha had the audience eating out of their hands, but they’d need Clint soon. Nodding, sure that Maria had everything well in hand; he left the area and made his way to meet Steve. He felt Thor step into line with him and didn’t object; Thor wouldn’t be needed on stage until after Clint was up there. And Phil was pretty sure what waited for him at holding area 4 would be of interest to the blond man.
Coming into the dimly lit area the first thing Phil spotted was the hulking shoulders of Steve and Sam, his right-hand man. Both of them were standing looking into one of the equipment cages, an area of space ringed in chain link fencing from floor to ceiling with a tall ‘door’ secured with a padlock.
The second thing Phil noticed was the dulcet sounds of Loki, frontman of the band Jotunn, attempting to sweet talk his way out of the equipment cage. Phil felt a self-satisfied smile touch his lips as he came to stand next to his security team.
“Brother!” Thor boomed in a delighted tone. “Fancy meeting you here!”
“Yeah, real fancy.” Sam huffed.
Loki pulled himself up to his not-inconsiderable height and glared at the four of them. “Let me out.”
Phil hummed thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think we will.”
“You cannot keep me here.” Loki practically snarled. “You have no right.”
“You snuck backstage during a live concert.” Steve replied easily. “As it’s my job to keep the backstage area free of rabid fans to protect the performers, I think it’s best if we keep you in there for now.”
“Rabid fans?!” Loki scoffed and sputtered for a long moment. “I am not a rabid fan! You all know who I am!”
“Of course we do, Brother.” Thor was obviously enjoying himself. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not a rabid fan.”
Loki seemed to collect himself, running a hand through his long dark hair. “I just want to talk to Clint, and then I’ll leave, I promise.”
“I think you’ve talked to him quite enough.” Phil smiled, the way a shark smiles. “Besides, Clint has a sold out crowd to perform for.” He pointed at the ceiling. “Hear that? That’s more than 20,000 people who think Clint is exactly where he belongs.”
Loki focused on Phil, the anger showing in his eyes. “You cannot keep him from me forever.”
“Oh, I think I can.” Phil’s smile didn’t waver. “Especially now that I have more than enough evidence to get a restraining order.” Phil patted Steve’s shoulder as he stepped away. “Keep him there until we’re away, then call the police.”
“Coulson.” Loki tried to stop him. “Coulson!” his voice grew sharper as Phil continued to walk away, ignoring him.
Phil clicked his headset over to the stage-hand’s main channel as Thor fell into step beside him. “Lockdown is complete. If everything’s ready, launch the Hawk.”
“And Hawk is launched, in three…two…one…” Maria’s voice replied and moments later Phil heard the stadium go mad as a clear piano grand emerged from their heart with Clint playing the song they’d recently been singing for him.
Phil stepped back into the main hub of activity and joined Maria at the monitors. Thor clapped him on the shoulder companionably before stepping away to get ready for his own entrance. On the monitor Clint sat at the crystal piano and sang along with the audience, a huge smile on his lips, drinking in the adoration that surrounded him. Part way through the song Tony, Natasha, Thor and Bruce joined in, bringing power and electricity to the ballad. Fingering the last piano notes Clint stood up from the bench and the flying rig around his waist lifted him up and over the astonished crowd, flying him back to the main stage. He landed perfectly, turned and held up his hands to the screaming appreciative crowd while two stage hands ran up and quickly removed the safety equipment that had allowed him to fly.
The rest of the encore performance went flawlessly, though Phil could see that Clint’s strength was flagging once again as they played the final song in the set. Thor and Tony stood to either side of the vocalist, putting an arm each over his shoulders to make sure he didn’t pitch forward onto his face while they all bowed to the screaming crowd. Smiling and waving Clint managed to walk off stage mostly under his own power, with Thor picking up the slack.
“And cue the house lights.” Maria announced once Bruce had thrown his last drumstick, gave a final wave and headed off stage.
“Amazing live people!” Phil shouted as he clapped his hands and the band and crew quickly joined him, applauding each other’s hard work. “Let’s clean up and go home!”
Phil watched everyone scatter before turning his attention to Clint who had collapsed into the first chair someone had found for him. “Go rest in the room we set aside for you. When Jemma comes to start putting away your costumes you can help her, but not before.”
Clint opened his mouth to argue but Phil glared him into finally nodding. Phil offered a hand to the vocalist to pull him to his feet and then watched him make his away down the hall.
Turning back to the crew he scanned the bustling crowd until he finally spotted Jemma. “Jemma!” he called to get her attention.
She smiled at him. “Leave Clint’s room until last, I’ve got it!” She waved away his concern and hurried off with the rolling bar of Bruce’s stage outfits.
Phil glanced at Maria who stood in the center of the chaos shouting orders and knew everything was well in hand. Not for the first time Phil had a thought, a solution to his kissing-Clint problem. Pulling his cellphone out of his pocket he stepped away to somewhere quieter to call Nick, owner and CEO of Shield Records.
*
Phil walked behind the band as they made their way tiredly to their hotel rooms. As they each reached their doors they peeled off with quiet wishes for a good night’s sleep and whispered ‘Good show tonight.’
Natasha had her arm around Clint’s waist as they moved to Clint’s room. She let Clint pull his key card out of his wallet, glancing back and finding Phil standing a meter behind them. She arched an eyebrow at him, read something in his expression that pleased her, and let Clint go as his door opened. “Good night Clint.” She brushed her lips over his temple before turning and sauntering off to her own room, touching one hand to Phil’s shoulder as she passed.
“Good show, Nat.” Clint mumbled, turning to wave as she left and finding Phil waiting for him. “You coming in?” he asked, managing to dredge up a cheeky grin as he gestured to his open hotel room door.
“Just for a bit, if you don’t mind.” Phil replied with a gentle smile of his own.
Phil followed Clint inside and let the door slide shut behind them. Clint all but collapsed onto the queen sized bed before looking up at Phil with a tired but pleased smile. “We did good tonight.” He said quietly.
“Better than good.” Phil pulled out the chair for the desk across from the bed. “You were spectacular tonight.”
Clint’s grin widened. “So what did you want to talk about?”
“I won’t keep you up too long.” Phil sat back in the rolling chair. “I talked to Nick tonight.” That had Clint’s attention. Although his curiosity was piqued, concern wrinkled his brow.
“Nick’s been asking me to switch roles for a few years now, take on some more responsibility for finding new talent and such, but I never saw the need…” he met Clint’s interested look. “Until now.”
He let that sink in for a moment before continuing, enjoying watching the understanding and excitement being to light up Clint’s face. “I was thinking if I hand over the reins of Hawkeye and the Avengers over to Maria to manage, then you, and I, won’t have a conflict of interest anymore.”
“And then I could take you to dinner?”
“And then you could take me for dinner.” Phil’s smile widened. “And I could kiss you, for as long as you wanted me to.”
Somewhere Clint found the energy to surge up off the bed, practically straddle Phil’s lap and pull him into a long, exhausted kiss. “Forever, Phil.” He whispered. “I want you to kiss me forever.”
Phil gently kissed Clint back, holding onto his hips, feeling the tired shudders of the other man’s body against his.
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He whispered back and kissed him again.