Steve stifled a yawn as he moved quietly down the corridors of the Avengers' tower to get a drink. With it being 2 a.m., he figured that everyone else was still asleep. So naturally he hesitated when he neared the kitchen to find the lights on low.

His mind raced through a thousand possibilities, and although the tower was probably the securest place in New York, Steve carefully and silently removed a weapon from an emergency stash and readied it. He made his way forwards, mindful of every miniscule sound and movement. It was because he was being so vigilant that he heard it. Normally, Steve would never have picked up on the unevenness of the breaths coming from whoever was in the kitchen. Nor would he have heard the slight sniff-gasp-thing that people usually made when they were crying.

Even more perturbed by the thought of an intruder – if it was an intruder – crying, Steve decided to leave stealth behind for speed. As soon as he reached the corner he lowered his weapon. The kitchen's occupant had his back to Steve, and by the looks of him, he hadn't realised the soldier was there.

Clint was reading something on paper and he was crying. A slight feeling of anxiety settled in Steve's gut. He had never seen Clint cry before. It was only a matter of days ago that the agent had been preparing to die to save a child no older than his own son, and had instead watched Pietro Maximoff die in his place. It was possible that Clint was only just coming to terms with that. It would certainly explain why he was crying at 2 a.m.

"Don't stand there all night on my account."

Steve startled at the sound of his voice, and dropped the gun onto the –thankfully- carpeted floor. Gingerly, he picked it up, and edged further into the kitchen.

"If you want some time alone…" Steve began hesitantly.

"Nah, it's fine." The archer replied quickly, brushing away tears with his wrist. "It's yours anyway." He said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Steve frowned as he took a seat across from Clint and the younger man slid the paper he'd been holding over the table. Curious, he picked it up and examined the envelope. Sure enough, it was addressed to Steve, but the writing was big; loopy, not unlike the handwriting of-

Of a child.

Mentally, Steve cursed himself of thinking of it before. Of course Clint stayed in touch with his family somehow. But then, why would the letter be addressed to him. With another frown, he began to read.

Dear Captain America,

I was just writing to ask – on behalf of my Dad – if you could let him come home next month, because it is Layla's birthday and it would be nice if he could be there. In fact, it would be nice if he could be home more in general. I feel very strongly about this, so below I am going to detail reasons why you should let him come home.

Firstly, it is statistically unlikely that there will be another world crisis that demands the avengers' time so soon after the tragic events of Sokovia. It is therefore my opinion that Hawkeye could and should be allowed some time off.

Also, he spent all of the time in between the 'Alien Incident' and Sokovia in New York with you. We didn't see him for almost a year. In addition to this, of my nine, and Layla's five birthdays, Dad has only been able to come home for three of them. He even had to miss Layla being born because of work commitments – The point being that he already has to miss enough of our lives due to his work with S.H.I.E.L.D., without you keeping him in New York now.

I would also like to add that – whilst I understand that his work is important and he is your friend – he is our father and sometimes we need him/we need to hear from him. For example, finding out from the news coverage that my Dad had survived Sokovia was not great. As well as this, both Layla and I are home-schooled, and whilst my Mum teaches us a well-mixed curriculum, science is not her strong point. And so, by keeping Dad in New York you are having an adverse effect on our education.

Finally, there are more than enough avengers to protect the world from threats such as Loki and Ultron, even without my Dad in your team. In total, there are nine avengers (You, Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, Vision, War Machine, and Falcon). Then, there are also the X-Men, the Fantastic Four, the Defenders, and Spiderman who frequently help prevent world disaster. If you actually need my Dad as well as all of these to keep humanity safe, then my next science project will be finding a way for us to relocate to the moon.

In summary, if you would please allow my Dad – Hawkeye/Agent Barton / Clint – time off next month, it would be greatly appreciated. If you could also allow Agent Romanoff/Black Widow/ Natasha time off for Layla's birthday, it would be great. If you could allow them both even more time off, you would be my favourite avenger.

Yours sincerely,
Cody Barton

P.S., Neither of my parents are aware that I am sending this letter, so please email any reply to:

435

Thank you.

Steve looked across the table at Clint when he'd finished; he was surprised to find tears in his own eyes. The archer sat with his head in his hands, trying to even out his breathing.

"I just-" He said, once again feeling Steve's gaze on him. "I just feel like I'm letting 'em down, you know?" Clint met his eyes. "I mean, it's- I-" He faltered and looked back down at the table.

"I'm a horrible father." Clint whispered. Steve thought he probably wasn't meant to hear the comment, but due to the serum, he did anyway.

He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat.

"Damn it, Barton!" Steve said weakly, sniffing. "Your kid sure knows how to make a guy feel bad." Clint's shoulders hitched in what could've been a laugh or a sob. Steve glanced down at the letter in his hand once more, but he knew he'd already made up his mind.

"I am a terrible person." He declared as he began to stand. He drew himself up to his full height and crossed his arms. "Go home now and don't come back." He said, just managing to keep his voice steady.

Clint looked up at him. "What?"

"Go home right this instant and don't ever come back, because if I keep you away from your family a second longer I might just break down." He answered sternly despite the smile on his face.

For a moment, Clint just stared at him. Then, a brilliant grin broke out on his face and before Steve really had time to register it, Clint had hugged him, before turning on his heel and out of the kitchen.

At 3 a.m., Steve watched and waved as Clint drove away from the tower. Despite a distant, but somehow certain, knowledge that he probably wouldn't see the archer again, he felt at peace with himself. Tomorrow, he would tell Natasha that she could go join the Bartons' festivities for as long as she wanted, and he'd meet up with Pepper and make sure they kept paying Clint. After all, the man had more than earned his pension.

With a genuine smile on his face, and a pleasant feeling warming his insides, Steve headed back into the tower. He put away the gun he'd retrieved earlier, and switched the kitchen lights off. He was halfway back to his quarters when he realised he couldn't remember why he'd gotten up in the first place.