Jesuslovesmarina: Aw, yeah, i killed him. Again. LOL. I know it's awful, but I absolutely can't help it! Ah, Thor, well that has given me so many opportunities here . . .:)

ELOSHAZZY: More tears! YAY! Yup, it's not called the rabbit hole for nothing!

Batghost: Clint is just awesome, isn't he? And yup, Tony would have completely made it about him!

I'm the lonely life: MUHAHAHAHAHA yet more tears! I have earned my writing badge

Godd3ss: :) Welcome to my world. I'm totally cruel and I love every minute of it.

The Spoiled Duchess: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!


Epilogue

1 year ago
Montana

"What do you mean, you're in jail? Like, jail jail, or is this some super hero super max prison? . . . . Of course it's on an island. . . . Steve? You tell Steve, that I am planning for him to break you out and bring you home or else he is uninvited to the family Thanksgiving! . . . I don't care about the Accords, or the UN, Clint, if you are not out of jail by FRIDAY then I am coming there MYSELF and I am breaking you out. . . Oh you WERE in jail . . . NO that doesn't make it better! And you are calling Natasha the minute you get home and you are going to apologize for this . . . . You better. Who? Now?" Laura looked down and checked her wrist watch. "Well, I'm still mad at him. Tell Steve that. And then you, Tony, Steve, and all the rest of you, are going to sit and talk about this. Good bye."

Laura Smith Barton hit the end call button with an angry jab and threw the cell phone into the bottom of the shopping cart. It was just her luck that her absentee husband decided to cut out in the middle of their planned family vacation to shoot off to parts unknown with Steve Rogers in tow. It was harder to keep a leash on Clint than a stray dog! Just thinking about it, Laura stewed not so privately, forcing her son to glance up from his Starkpad at her.

"Dad got arrested again?" It was a statement from Cooper, not a question. His lack of concern disturbed Laura more than the fact that it was true.

"That's one way to put it," Laura said. "I hate that you can say "again" and it's completely reasonable."

"Guess the trip's canceled?"

"Uncle Steve broke him out. Your dad's on his way home. I'll take us to the lake. Maybe Jake Red Fox will come with his grandmom and dad'll catch up. Aunt Nat should be on her way already." Laura started pushing the shopping cart down the aisle. Cooper went along beside her. Baby Nathaniel oohed from the car seat rocking back and forth in the bottom of the cart. Lila, in the meantime, had made twelve friends, collected two My Little Pony booklets, and vanquished a dented corn can with her helmet.

"I saw on the news Uncle Steve's a terrorist," Cooper went on.

Laura stopped at the end of the aisle and looked at her son. "Uncle Steve's not a terrorist. He's being an idiot, but if every idiot is a terrorist, then so is Uncle Tony. They're having a fight, that's all. You and your sister have fights, so what do I make you do?"

"Wear the friendship shirt and tie us together?" Cooper supplied, smiling.

Laura nodded. "Yup. We're going to make Uncle Steve and Uncle Tony wear the friendship shirt for a week."

Cooper laughed at the ridiculousness of that prospect, after all, how would they go to the bathroom? He followed his mom back toward the regular produce and looked around for his sister. Lila was easy to spot today. She decided to don a yellow and pink tu-tu, her Thor helmet, and was swinging an imitation battle ax. There were two little squeakers in her shoes that made a characteristic chirp every time she walked. Clint installed them himself when she had a propensity to wander off to "vanquish evil", which neither Clint, nor Laura, truly grasped.

Cooper slipped his Starkpad into his back pocket and strolled to the next aisle over. He craned his head left and right, then noticed her standing down one aisle. She was ogling the Avengers' fronted cereal. Her fingers reached up, her fist curled, and suddenly she was pretending to pick the nose of Tony Stark on the Kelog box. Cooper smiled and went over to her.

"Hey, did you hear mom? She's probably gonna break dad's leg."

"How does Uncle Tony blow his nose in his suit?" Lila asked.

Cooper's eyebrow arched. He looked at the box, and then his sister. "Uh, I don't know. I never asked. I bet he has like an internal vacuum system or something for that."

"He doesn't carry a hankee."

"No, I don't think he does."

"Does he get wedgies?"

Cooper shrugged. "Maybe."

She hummed to herself, thinking about the little scenarios in her head. Cooper tugged the back of her shirt and they turned together in the direction of their mom. They hadn't reached the end of the aisle before Cooper stopped suddenly. Laura had circled the aisle behind them, took Cooper by the shoulders, and pressed her hand around his mouth. Instantly, Cooper reached out and snatched tighter to Lila's shirt. They flattened back behind a cart together and crouched down. Nathaniel rocked in a car seat beside them. There, standing at the end of the aisle directly ahead of them was a single man. He wore combat gear, thick steel-toed boots, and the words SHIELD emblazoned across his chest. Laura's blood ran cold. Her fingers nails inadvertently dug into Cooper's skin.

The agent glanced down into the cart that held Laura's shopping and cell phone. He reached in with his gloved hands, lifted the phone, and slipped it into his pocket. He looked around. His head swiveled back and forth. Then he moved away toward the front entrance.

Laura tugged a lock of Cooper's hair and suddenly they all moved together. Laura set Nathaniel on the ground in his seat, prompting Cooper to instantly pick him up. Lila held her battle ax, fit her Asgardian helmet over her ears, and readied for war. Laura glanced out of the aisle and quickly drew back. She motioned to her kids and, wordlessly, they headed for the back of the store.

There was a second exit by the bathrooms, tucked away in a little corner passed the frozen food and the lines of milk substitutes. The aisles all came to an end at the same point before a horizontal stand split the open alley into equal halves. They passed out of the long aisles, ducked, crossed to the horizontal stand, and directly in front of them was the back door.

Laura stopped.

A line of black uniformed men and women appeared to their immediate right. Each brandished weapons. Each turned directly toward them. Her breath caught in her chest. Before she had a chance to back peddle away, the SHIELD team started in her direction.

"Laura Smith!" One of the agents yelled. "Inhuman! Inhuman, STOP!"

"RUN!" Laura shouted.

The kids went first. She threw the keys to Cooper, who caught them mid-air, and, with Nathaniel in one hand and Lila hurrying beside him, they shot out the back of the store together. Cooper threw himself into the door, setting off an overhead alarm at the same time and startling the two agents waiting outside. Within a moment, Lila was swinging her battle ax. At eight years, nine months old, she threw her muscles into each stroke and left a couple of broken kneecaps in the wake of her onslaught. With an Asgardian war-cry on her lips, she went sailing after her brother across the parking lot.

Laura hurried after them. The first in the line of black suits were on top of her in moments though they might have assumed they had the upper hand given their numbers and advanced weaponry.

How wrong they were.

The moment a hand fell on her shoulder, a switch flipped, and all hell broke loose. She tore the man off his feet, threw him head first into an aisle of feminine hygiene products, and attacked the next one in the line. A gun went off close to her ear to decimate a bottle of Silk Soy Milk. Laura snatched it away, turned it around, and landed three bullets into the chest of the closest agent. Three seconds later she emptied the remaining clip into the last three assailants. Laura was out the door before any could recover their senses enough to follow. After all, Laura Barton was an Inhuman, a person born with the dregs of DNA from an alien race, awakened to a power none could have anticipated. Instead of shooting electricity from her hands, teleportation, or suffering bodily disfigurement, Laura had a particular gift. She could absorb the talents of those nearest to her. Clint learned not to sneak up on her anymore, he'd suffered enough bruised ribs and near stabbings to account for all due caution. Apparently, while SHIELD had news of her Inhuman Status, they had no idea what storm they'd just rolled into.

By the time Laura made it into the parking lot, Cooper already had Nathaniel buckled in, Lila in the backseat, and Cooper himself was slamming the car full throttle out of the intersection. Laura ran as fast as she could, watching as three SHIELD SUVs screamed to life in the center of the shopping complex. She wasn't sure who they were, how they found her, but there was one thing Clint always drilled into them. Run. Run hard. Run fast. Do not look back.

Cooper caught sight of her before he crashed out of the parking-lot and cut a hard left. He floored the accelerator and went screaming to a stop only a few feet away from her. He kicked the driver's side door open and seamlessly moved across the bench seat of the wagon into the passenger spot. He didn't bother putting the car in park. Laura slid through the open door and pulled it shut before jamming the gas pedal down.

Lila was stoic, sitting in her booster seat in the back of the wagon as she watched her mother's face in the reflection of the rearview mirror. Cooper at first was concerned. He'd been abducted by men before. Back then his father came to his rescue and in the end, everything turned out well. He knew Clint would come again and, if not Clint, then Thor. The Hulk. Iron Man. Vision. One of a half dozen superheroes sworn to defend each other's families regardless of the cost. If they were taken, they would be saved.

The gunshots caught them all by surprise. This time, being taken alive, apparently didn't matter. The Barton family had always been bargaining chips, now they were liabilities. And liabilities could be murdered.

Bullets tore through the station wagon from driver to passenger side.

Red splattered the windshield and suddenly Laura released a sudden scream.

"Mommy?!" Cooper cried.

The wagon's wheel jerked in her grip as she involuntarily shifted sideways. She corrected- then over corrected- and swiftly got the tires back in the right side of the double yellow lines. Her mouth ran dry, but she managed to say, "Mommy's ok. Mommy's ok. Coop—Coop get mommy's gun. Get the gun."

Another rip of bullets blasted through the air, shattering the rear windshield. Lila threw herself over top of Nathanial while Cooper ducked down to try and find the .357 Magnum tacked beneath the front seat. Clint put it there a year and a half ago for safety. Cooper had seen his mother shoot it three times, each time she was taking down a wandering bear that crept too close to their camp.

The first SUV rammed into them. The wagon lurched sideways, across the small shoulder and into the side of the road. The shoulder was unforgiving. A short guard rail led to a rocky drop off straight down the Montana canyon side. A journey there meant not coming back unscathed. Laura yanked the wheel, pulling the wagon by brute strength back onto the main road. She could feel blood seeping down the front of her shirt but couldn't brave a glance down at herself.

Under the force of cars colliding together, the Magnum slid out from under the seats and rattled under Cooper's leg. Suddenly, he pulled his seat belt free, leaned forward and grabbed the gun. He clicked his belt back into place, reached for the steering wheel, and handed the gun to his mother.

She rolled the window down and emptied the cylinder into the front tire of the first car while Cooper steadied the wheel. The SUV peeled away, but the second one shot forward to take its place. Laura took the wheel back, passing the gun to Cooper. He popped open the glove box to find the spare rounds Laura kept there.

"MOMMY!" Lila screamed.

The second SUV slammed into their back end, throwing the station wagon into a tailspin. Cooper lost his grip on the handgun which went spinning into the windshield, smashing it into a spider web of cracks.

Another hit.

The wagon was forced off the road a second time. Cooper smacked into the side door head first and suddenly he went limp.

Lila screamed.

She cried out for her mother, her father, for Thor himself and the rainbow bridge of Heimdall to open as the drop off of the Montana countryside came closer and closer. Time slowed. The SUVs pulled away, only long enough to work up momentum to cross the two-lane highway and T-bone the station wagon head on.

The small guardrail gave way. Laura released the steering wheel and threw herself sideways across Cooper.

A rapport of gunshots peppered the station wagon as it rocketed down the side of the rocky Montana hills. A short boulder slammed into them part way, crushing the bottom half of the passenger side and sending the station wagon into a roll.

The SUVs pulled up to the edge of the roadway. The tires stopped over gravel and their doors popped open as geared agents stepped out onto the asphalt to see the results of their work. Sun-glassed eyes followed the tumbling car as it came to its final rest on four deflated tires.

:(:):(:):

The Bifrost opened and closed in an instant. Ten figures rushed out of the dazzle of lights in the center of the old Asgardian runes and descended onto the center of the wreckage instantly. A tall dark figure, wielding a horse-killer sword, led the charge. He was larger than most men and Asgardians combined, his two horned helmet reflected the light of the sun in corn silk gold as he took his sword, swung it over his head, and landed it in the center of a marauding black utility vehicle. The vehicle split in two halves. It sailed forward for a short distance, its tires spinning automatically, before it came to a smoking stop.

The second vehicle came next. While the other nine Asgardians made their way down the steep embankment after the station wagon and SHIELD agents scrambled like rats, the leader, Heimdall, swung his colossal sword a second time. This time it sliced through the entire upper half of the utility vehicle. The third SUV started up on screeching tires until it was no more than half a foot away from the watcher of Asgard. Heimdall's eyes narrowed at the occupants. The SUV slammed into reverse. The tires screamed as they attempted to gain enough purchase to ride backwards, but Heimdall grabbed it by the bumper and lifted it, one handed, straight up. He swung his sword with the opposite hand and the engine was completely disemboweled.

He dropped the SUV onto its flattened tire remnants and he circled to the driver's side. Inside, he could see passengers scrambling. Guns fired. The bullets pinged uselessly off of his armor plates. Without missing a beat, Heimdall reached into the front of the car, grabbed the first person he could, and yanked him out.

"Stop! Stop, wait! Don't kill me! Don't kill me, please!" the man screamed.

Heimdall shook him roughly. "What have you done?!" he demanded.

"We were only after the Inhumans!" the man exclaimed. "Please, that's all! They're dangerous! We were supposed to get rid—"

Heimdall's attention was pulled away by another wave of rainbow light splitting the sky. He opened his hand, releasing the man in his grip and instead moved off toward the ridge. When the Bifrost closed, Heimdall could see the Son of Odin standing in the center of the rune circle. Thor couldn't hide the horror in his eyes as he took in the destruction before him. The Asgardians were already working the doors of the wagon open. Others scooped sand onto the fires engulfing the engine while the rest carefully extracted the Barton family from inside the twisted remains.

"No!" Thor screamed, rushing across the slope for the family. Heimdall intercepted him part way and held him firmly.

"Wait," the watcher said. "Wait for them."

"Who's done this?!"

"I have taken care of them," Heimdall said.

"Thor!" one of the Asgardians called.

Thor pulled himself free of Heimdall's grip and together the two of them approached the group. Lady Sif, sworn defender of Asgard, cradled a small child against her and laid the girl on the ground. Thor stooped down beside her instantly.

"Lila?" he breathed, "Lila? Is she dead, does she hear me?"

Sif pressed an ear to the girl's chest and, after long troubled moments, she lifted. Her eyes tearful. "She may live."

Thor looked to Heimdall. "Open the portal, bring them to Asgard imme—"

"M'lord?"

Thor turned back to another guardsman. The three other passengers were laid just out of sight, huddled together in a row beside the remaining warriors. The guardsman glanced at the three, then back at Thor.

"I'm sorry, M'lord," he said.

Heimdall pressed his hand into Thor's shoulder as the Asgardian heir faltered. His knees weekend and he rested back in Heimdall's support.

"No," Thor whispered. His eyes fell on Lila, the little girl who would play Valkyrie.

"What would you have us do?" Heimdall asked gently.

Thor reached forward and pressed his hand over the small child's blood-stained cheek. Emotion caught the back of his throat, constricting it. Fighting through the anger and pain, he said, "Take their assailants. Lock them in the holding cells until I can decide what will be done with them. Find Clint Barton and have him brought to me at once. As for them," Thor's eyes rested on the family of his friend. "Bring them to Asgard. If they can be saved, we will do whatever we must."

:(:):(:):

"WHERE IS SHE?! LET GO OF ME? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! WHERE'S MY DAUGHTER! LET ME GO!"

Clint's exclamations preceded him as he marched through the gold gilded halls of the Asgardian world. He tore himself away from the Warriors Three who tried to lead him onward. Frantic desperation kept him throwing his shoulder into every doorway, bursting into random rooms along the medical wing to try and find where his family had been taken.

Thor heard his fellow Avenger before he saw him. The Asgardian stepped into the great hall, a pensive look setting his jaw, as he waited for Clint to see him. It didn't take long. Barton broke away from the Three and rushed toward Thor. He grabbed the Asgardian by the shoulders and shook him.

"WHERE ARE THEY?!" Clint demanded. His face was horrified and ghastly white.

"My friend, please," Thor tried to say, his voice was low and even. Instantly Clint moved to push past him and into the room Thor had come out of. Thor, though, held Clint roughly back. "Clint, stop!"

"Where are they?" Clint whispered desperately. "Thor, where are they? Where are my kids? Where's Laura? Why are they here? Why did you bring me here?"

Thor's fingers tightened. At Clint's back, the Warriors Three waited for a signal from Thor. The son of Odin nodded once to them and they slowly retreated away to grant the two Avengers some semblance of privacy.

"Thor?" Clint whispered. All hope drained from his eyes.

"There is no easy way to speak these words to you, Clint," Thor said. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stared directly at his friend. He could feel the energy draining out of Barton, as if his very soul was filtering away, one grain of sand at a time. "Your family was attacked for nothing more than the genes they carried. This had nothing to do with you, or who you are. You could not have prevented this. Do you hear me?"

A strangled cry lifted from Clint's lips. The archer grew weak. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor. Thor followed him down and the two sat in the middle of the hall together. Distant guards on their patrols paused at the sight in front of them and turned to keep others away. Thor hurriedly related what he knew for certain. Laura had been killed, in the crash most likely though the bullet wound the healers found sitting beside her heart would have ended her soon enough. Cooper was dead. Crushed. Quick. He didn't suffer. Nathaniel . . . There Thor paused. Clint was rocked in horror. He wasn't moving, wasn't speaking, he'd gone completely catatonic the longer Thor explained how it had all happened.

"But Lila," Thor said cautiously, "she survived the crash. She is very ill, my friend, I don't know whether she will –"

"Where is she?" Clint managed to say.

Thor indicated the door beside them. "She is not awake. They are unsure if she ever will be again."

"The people who did this?"

"Imprisoned in the catacombs here, beneath our feet," Thor told him. "I will see they are punished for their crimes, but do not concern yourself with their welfare. Go to your child. Stay with her."

:(:):(:):

The Asgardians should have kept Clint Barton under lock and key. They were too trusting, expecting that a father grieving from the death of his family might be so distracted by the survival of one, he wouldn't seek retribution. Whatever sentiments they harbored were wrong. Thor realized his mistake too late. He'd assumed too much of a man who had lost virtually everything he had fought his entire life to keep. Thor did not fault Clint for what grief drove him to do, but then again, Thor would never forget the scene he walked into among the catacombs.

A battalion of palace guards stood in a ring around the lowered walls of the Midgardians' prison. Within, half a dozen agents who claimed SHIELD affiliation were cautiously waiting to learn their fate. Thor knew they would be returned to Earth. What government he turned them over to, remained to be seen. Already the Avengers themselves had fractured apart. Asgard itself was in the throws of confusion following the attack by the Dark Elves. The last thing Thor's father needed was Midgard's troubles thumping on his gates, and yet when Lila called, not a soul could refuse the honest plea.

Now, those troubles expounded a thousand fold. Thor parted the throngs of his guardsmen with his presence alone until he could see into the cell for himself. His stomach turned sour. Bile rose to the back of his mouth, forcing him to swallow to keep the sickness down.

"Odin's Beard," Thor murmured.

Clint sat on the raised edge of the prison cell. A sword rested in a puddle of blood at his feet. Behind him, the bodies of the agents lay in piles of snapped necks, slashed flesh, and dissected parts. His revenge had been merciless. Unyeilding. Unsparing.

"What have you done?" Thor whispered, approaching Clint slowly.

Clint didn't answer him or look up from the bloodstained sword laying in front of him.

Thor glanced at the room again, still in disbelief. Clint was an expert marksman. Deadly accurate and as capable at destroying alien invaders as he was at blending into a crowd and disappearing in plain sight. Thor thought he knew him, knew the man that Clint Barton was and what comprised his heart. He never thought Barton capable of this. Thor knelt, leaned forward, and pressed his hand against Clint's hand.

"Clint?"

"I can't stay here," Clint told him, shaking his head. "I . . . I can't face her . . . I wasn't there, Thor, I wasn't there . . . I left them. For what? For Steve? I left her. I promised I was going to stay, I broke my word to her . . ."

"She can forgive, she is a child, and you are all she has," Thor pressed. "Do not abandon her here."

"She has you. She's safer here. Of earth, away from this, away from me, away from them. . ."

Thor's heart sank in his chest. He looked back at the ring of guardsmen, all who watched the man before them with a mixture of fear and distrust. There would be none amongst them ready to appeal on Clint's behalf. Thor also knew he was no father. He had no children of his own, he'd hardly held a commitment to any at all for longer than a score of years. Thor would speak of these reservations in the days that came. He would try to convince Clint out of his foolish need to run, but these words fell on deaf ears. The Clint Barton that Thor knew vanished the moment Clint was taken to Asgard.

Hawkeye was dead, buried with his family in the dirt. Any hopes of convincing him to remain by Lila's side vanished. In Clint's mind he was as good as a lightning rod to the safety of his only child and nothing short of keeping away from her might save what remained.

Sif tried, Fandral, Hogan, every Asgardian in Thor's employ or friendship went to him with their desperate plea. Clint, though, separated himself from them all He whispered his goodbye's to Lila's bruised and bloodied face and returned to the Bifrost before Lila even had the chance to wake up again. Thor didn't like it, but he honored his friend's request and parted ways with Clint at the graves of his family. The Avengers were shattered, fragments of who they once were. Leaving Clint in the clouds of his own misery and returning to Asgard, and the dying child there, Thor wasn't sure what in this world of his would ever mend the team he had so suddenly lost. There was only a single soul he might reach out too, a distant ally who might, despite their differences, continue in her steady concern over Clint's welfare.

It didn't take Thor long to locate Natasha Romanov. It was to her, Thor entrusted his plans. Natasha handled the remains of Clint's victims on Asgard, and those others he went in search of on Earth. She tracked him across the world as Clint dismantled the infrastructure that ever dared to cross him. She watched him twist and writhe into something she didn't recognize anymore, a darkness that Thor first witnessed.

Eventually, Natasha's demanding work paid off. Clint was not to be influenced directly by normal means, though Natasha knew just the Avenger for the job of getting him to twist in just the right direction. Fortunately, that Avenger also looked at Barton with the loving eyes of a sister to a wayward older brother. The Scarlet Witch loved him in many ways.

She couldn't walk up to him, in the state he was in, and tell him what to do. Clint had to go through the motions, accept the little nudges she provided on his own, and hope for his sincere heart to show in the end. Regardless of all the plans and carefully laid influences she'd placed in Clint's path over the past few months, even Natasha hadn't anticipated Peter Parker. For the first time since Clint's loss, she could see the glimmer of him returning, slowly, every day. Natasha had been touching base with Thor. Clint's daughter was getting better, slowly, every day. Lila missed her daddy. He needed to go home.

:(:):(:):

Peter Parker sat in the alcove of the Avenger Compound's underground garage reading the letter Clint had written to him. He was oblivious to the efforts Thor and Natasha coordinated to surround Clint's life, or the heavily laid plans desperate to bring Clint out of his misery and back to himself. Dread expanded in Peter's chest the further down the lines of Clint's letter he read, right until he got to the point where Clint had outed him to Aunt May. In terror and desperation, Peter thrust his hand into his backpack and retrieved his cell phone. One hundred and nine missed calls and all of them from Aunt May.

He groaned inwardly. Amid his swirling thoughts, the sound of a door opening and closing caught him off guard. He receded back into the shadow of the alcove and looked out as Natasha Romanov, Wanda, and Happy suddenly appeared in the garage together. They were heading to one of Stark's cars.

"I have to get back to Washington. Too many loose ends to clear up. Watch Tony, don't let him or Steve out of this building until they've figured something out," Natasha ordered, stalking to the car. Wanda had to jog to keep up with her longer legs.

"When will we know if he's ok?" Happy said, rushing after her. "I never meant to shoot him. I didn't know he was trying to stage all of this, if he had just said something to me—"

"He didn't know. He couldn't know, because if he did, he might not have gone. He's thick headed just like the rest of them. I don't think even Clint realized how much he wanted to kill Tony until he was already trying to do it," Natasha snapped back. "Besides, Thor didn't say how he is. I know as much as you do."

"He'll live," Wanda affirmed. She lifted a corner of her mouth. "He won't like the headache I gave him, but it will do him some good in the end."

"Is Clint coming back?" Happy asked.

Natasha stopped by the open car door and looked at him. Wanda had already climbed into the passenger seat. "I don't know. But they aren't allowed to know either." She stabbed a finger straight up, indicating the rest of the team with that singular motion. "Clint's trying to get them back together, no matter what it takes. He had planned on going up to Cap and breaking his jaw, then making Stark force feed him smoothies in a locked room together, so look at this as a better alternative. Besides, we've got enough enemies around here without Clint getting tied up in the mix. Hawkeye is dead. Clint's with Thor, and Thor has to go hunt down some devil threatening the end of the world."

"And the kids?" Happy asked. Natasha got into the car, trying to pull the door shut behind her. Happy yanked it right back open. "Hey, look, I wasn't exactly part of this little plot of yours until AFTER I shot him. I'm keeping all your secrets. You owe me something for all this."

"You're lucky I trust your discretion or I'd be burying you in Clint's grave," Natasha growled. Inside the car, Wanda's smile broadened for a moment.

Happy pulled his hand away from the door. Instead of slamming it shut, she paused and after a time, sighed. Her voice lowered. "Look, I lost them too. It's not like I get to see them again, and likely none of us ever will. Lila's alive. Clint wasn't sure he could ever face her again, so he's kept away from her. Stayed here. Drowned his sorrows. I've been trying to get him back to her for a year now and thanks to your pet spider, I think I finally did it."

"Well the next time you fake kill a guy with my gun, do me a favor and let me know."

Natasha flipped him her middle finger, grabbed the door handle, and slammed it shut.

From his spot in the shadows, Peter watched as Happy returned the way he came and Natasha rocketed out of the underground parking center. His mind filled in mystery.


... this might be the end of this series...but I'm not sure... I guess we'll have to wait and see. Perhapds Lila has a little Valkyrie she's going to look u to. And perhaps an Uncle Loki . . .

Wouldn't that be something. . . .