And it was the voice had Phil lowering his arm, grip slackening. Recognition passed over his face quickly.

"Clint?" The bat dropped to the floor. "Have you not heard of this handy thing called the front door? I tend to answer it without the bat, unlike a second story window. Are you insane?" He moved closer. "I could have hurt you." This wasn't the best neighborhood, so, yeah, Phil kept a bat in his room. There had been a few break ins lately, although they'd all used entrances on the first floor. Fucking circus kids were crazy.

"Look at you." He smiled. "How long has it been?" He held out his arms for a hug.