"You'll be safe here."

The children read on the couch, listlessly following the words on the page. Coming down from the high of excitement that the Avenger's visit had given them. Barely able to keep their eyes from drifting closed in the lull of late afternoon, it was all they could do to enjoy even that simple activity.

Just as it always happened after Clint left.

"We can start over here."

Cleaning the kitchen, Laura ignored the fear that settled in her belly, making her unborn child restless, uneasy. When Clint started working for SHIELD, this is what her life had become; a secure home for her children to grow up in, but with an endless fear that would never go away.

When her husband was home, when he smiled and reassured her with a joke, when he played with their children, she could relax. She could ignore that fears that resided in her breast. She could believe that their home really was safe.

On the nights when he was gone, which were frequent, she would stay up late, unable to sleep for fear his dead body would haunt her dreams. During the days, as she completed the chores, she prayed wordless prayers for his safety, hands flattening across her belly in unshared worry that he might not see his third child.

"Our family will be safe."

"But you're leaving."

The farm sheltered them, a haven against the demons in the world, protecting them from the enemies Clint fought. It was a good life, a quiet one, but also a strained one. She never told Clint how the silence got to her, how she couldn't stand the anxiety that plagued her, a fear for the what if…

...What if he didn't return?

He didn't need to hear it, he already knew. Reading her soul with his keen blue eyes, he knew the secret thoughts she kept from him, and whenever he asked, "Are you okay?" she would always return, embracing him tight and whispering in his ear, "I miss you." And between the soft exchanges of their utterances, he knew.

But he didn't see the way their son practiced on his own. Learning how to bend the bow, aim the gun; perform the actions that Clint did so naturally. Nor did he see the way their daughter watched the shadows, half afraid that the next time it wouldn't be her dad appearing, but a monster.

He wasn't there to see it.

"I have to. It's what I've always done."

Visiting as often as he could, calling when a mission delayed him, he tried to make up for it. But he couldn't replace the time that was stolen from them.

"Promise me you'll come back?"

"I promise."

Sensing a presence in the stillness, familiar eyes watching her, she turned around, heart pounding with something between a hope and a wish; afraid it would be only her imagination. Eyes landing on the shadow, his form recognizable to her even though she couldn't see his face, quick steps carried her to him before a word passed between either of them.

Clutching the fabric of his shirt, fist resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart underneath, she held him tight as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

And she knew how bad it had been for him.