*Clint a few days after the first Avengers movie*

Natasha told me not to look into this, but I had to know. I had to know how many people I killed while under Loki's control.

I was currently in SHIELD headquarters, rummaging through the files in the computer's database. I knew deep down that I shouldn't uncover this pit because my guilt will only get stronger, but at the same time I knew my guilt wouldn't let me move on until I knew the full extent of what I've done.

I decided to look through SHIELD's Medical files to see how many people within the past few days were killed from an arrow wound. I was one of the only archers in SHIELD, so any arrow wound was most likely caused by me. I'll never know the exact number of people I've hurt, but at least it'll give me an estimate.

Before I looked at the files, I paused. Should I really do this to myself? Maybe Tasha was right and knowing the numbers wouldn't do me any good.

I thought for a moment before proceeding. I just feel that if I know what I've done, I could somehow set things right by acknowledging my wrongs.

I hit enter and a number of medical files came up where people had gotten arrow wounds. I took in a deep breath and started reading through the results. I rested my chin against my fist, uneasy, as I searched through the files for what seemed like hours. Tears constantly threatened to fall from my eyes as I read through all the deaths I've caused, and sometimes those tears did fall.

I looked through about two dozen recent medical surveys of people shot with my arrows, usually directly in the head or the heart. I started looking into these people's files, to learn more about them in hopes that I could do something to right my wrong. Some of these men and women had families, children, siblings, parents, one was even supposed to get married and leave SHIELD in less than a month to start their own family. And I just killed all these people and their hopes, dreams, and plans, without a second thought.

I slammed my fist on the table, a new stream of tears threatening to fall. I buried my face in my hands, trying to take in what I've done to all these people. Tying to take in the fact that they were all dead because of me.

I rested my back against my chair and stopped. Why did I ever think I could right my wrong? I murdered these people and ruined their familys' lives. I can never bring these people back or fix that.

As I was about to slam my laptop closed, another medical file caught my eye. Instead of putting an arrow through this person's heart or head, it said I hit their shoulder. I never miss my target, so I was curious to investigate this.

I opened up the file and I was surprised by my findings. This person didn't die from their wound, they were currently recovering in one of SHIELD's sick bays.

I paused. I never expected that anyone made it out of my bow and arrow's grasp alive these past days, and yet someone did, but how? Why did I miss their heart? I never miss.

The name at the top of the file read Noelle Simmons. I decided to look her up in the database to learn more about her. Her profile picture had short brown hair and green eyes. I studied the picture for a moment before continuing my information search. She was one of SHIELD's Security Guards, meaning she wasn't a spy or agent technically, but she was hired to protect other agents while they were working in the SHIELD bases. Being ready to fight when needed, she probably ran right into the crossfire while on duty, as the Helicarrier was attacked.

I'm glad she was alive, but I still injured her. This discovery didn't help the guilt I still felt.

As I continued to look through her file, I thought to myself. I knew I needed to do something to try and fix this mess I've made with her. She was still alive, meaning there was a chance I could. But how?

I knew one thing, I knew I needed to apologize. I needed to apologize in person and give her an explanation. She deserved that much for what I did. However, this plan could end in any number of ways depending on her reaction. But I didn't need her forgiveness, how could she, or anyone, forgive me for what I've done anyway? I just needed to tell her what she deserved to know.

I stood up and closed my laptop. I grabbed my black jacket off the back of my chair and left the room.

I must complete my mission. My mission to apologize.