Steve slumped low in the uncomfortable folding chair. He fiddled with the baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes, unable to keep still. He'd been coming here for awhile now, but it still made him nervous. Anonymity was a major part of the group, but he knew he was a public figure and if someone recognized him, the ethics of keeping his secret might not be enough to outweigh the payday of spilling his secret to the press.

Coulson had been the one to steer him towards the group. He thought he had been hiding his problems well enough, but Coulson had probably seen his share of agents dealing with similar stuff. Steve knew that he shouldn't be ashamed of needing a little help dealing with everything that he'd gone through, but this just went against everything he was used to. Self-sufficiency, pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, never letting them see you cry…

But even though he hadn't shared anything himself, the PTSD support group had been helping. Just knowing that there were other people out there like him was a huge relief. Well, not just like him, Steve thought, chuckling darkly to himself. But there were other people – soldiers, cops, fireman – who had seen and done terrible things that they couldn't just leave behind them.

So listening to their stories helped. He felt less alone and, when he awoke from yet another nightmare, sweating and shaking, calling out for his lost friends and comrades, he would think of all the others that shared his struggles. Maybe one day he would have enough trust in the others to share some of his story. Get their take on what he could do to get better.

The meeting was just about over when Steve noticed someone lurking in the doorway to his left. All the usuals were there, so it must be someone new. It wasn't unusual for a new person to be nervous about coming in and they would often hang back and just take it all in for the first day. Steve turned to give the guy a reassuring look, but when he caught his eye, they both froze.

Shit.

It was Barton. What the hell was he doing here? Ok, so he knew what he doing there, but why? Ok, another stupid question. They'd all been through a hell of a lot after the invasion and were all trying to piece their lives back together the best they could. He shouldn't be surprised that one of the others would get help. He was surprised though that Coulson hadn't said something or that he had recommended the same group to at least the two of them.

It wasn't that he didn't want Barton to know, exactly. They weren't close though, and sharing just how fucked up you were after everything seemed like kind of…intimate. Sharing problems with strangers was one thing, but with someone you knew and would see in work situation, well things could definitely get awkward. So while he was uncomfortable, Steve didn't want to make Clint feel out of place. He gestured to the empty seat next to him in the back row.

Clint hesitated, but decided to walk over and join him. It wasn't like he could turn and run now. That would definitely show that he had some issues to work out. He could face down hordes of aliens, but not a church basement full of screwed up humans preoccupies with their own shit? He shook his head at just how messed up he felt.

They sat in silence, not looking at one another, while the last two volunteers told their stories and shared their victories over the problems they'd been facing. After the leader shared some parting words, the crowd started to scatter and Steve and Clint stood awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

"Wanna go grab some coffee or something" Steve offered.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

They made small talk as they walked to a local diner only a block away. As they settled into a booth and ordered some sandwiches, Steve broached the subject of the meeting.

"First time you went to the group?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah, figured maybe it was time to check it out. Not like it could do any more damage, right?" Clint answered with a sarcastic laugh.

"You're not wrong. And while I can't say it's been anything life-changing, it does help a little."

"Yeah? Coulson has been pushing me to go for awhile, so when I saw on their site that there was one today…" he trailed off.

"I don't want to pry, but if you want to talk about any of it…" Steve offered.

"Have you talked about it?"

"In the group? No. I'm not really comfortable with that yet. Maybe someday. But I did talk to Coulson about it a little. Well, more like he knew somehow and pressed me about It until I was truthful, but either way, here I am."

"Yeah, he's annoying like that. Way too insightful" Clint said with a more genuine laugh. It was clear he had warm feelings for the older SHIELD agent.

"So, how's it been? Everything, after…everything?"

Clint laughed. "Oh, just great. How about you?"

Steve chuckled and shook his head.

"Really, though, not great" Clint continued. "I mean, I know that I'm a SHIELD agent, so it was no surprise to get sent back out on other missions so soon, but it's like, give a guy a minute, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean. I'm still catching up on, pretty much everything, and they're trying to get me involved in all kinds of things."

"I was trained to be able to handle all this weird shit, but some things you're just not prepared for. And giant ass alien things coming from space, gods walking around on earth, and all that…not really covered."

Clint fell silent for a moment. "Then there was the whole head thing" he said more quietly, a troubled look crossing his face.

Steve felt bad. Even with everything that he'd been through, he'd never had another person take over his mind and body, making him do terrible things against his will. He couldn't imagine how he'd feel after that.

"You know that wasn't your fault though –" he said, not sure what else to say.

"Yeah yeah, I know, I've heard it all. Doesn't change the way you feel about it though. It was still me, even if it wasn't. Guys I knew… innocent people…I was the one that took them out. It doesn't matter if it was my choice or not, I still feel their blood on my hands."

At this both man sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts of things they had done and the people that had been hurt in their wake. The waitress came and set down the plates of food that they no longer had appetites for.

"Well, I guess that's why we're here right? The past can't be changed and all we have control over is what we do in the future" Steve said, trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction.

"Is that some therapy slogan they teach you?"

"Uh, yeah, kinda" Steve said sheepishly. "But it's true!"

Clint laughed and Steve smiled, glad to see the somber mood broken. "No, you're right. It may be corny, but it's true. Maybe this group does have a nugget or two of wisdom to offer."

"If it makes you uncomfortable having me there, we can go on different days or something" Steve said, happy that Clint seemed open to going and not wanting anything to discourage him.

"Nah, that's ok. It's kind of nice to be able to share with someone that understands. I know all those people have their stuff too, but ours is a special kind of fucked up."

"You've got that right" Steve agreed.

Clint grabbed a fry off his plate and started eating. "You think Coulson's going to get any of the others to go?"

"Doubt it" Steve said, cracking another smile at the thought of the others sitting around sharing their feelings.

"I don't know, Stark seems to like talking about himself" Clint said laughing. Steve laughed too and he thought to himself that maybe this would be a turning point and things could finally start getting better.