Wow. That is about all I can say, just wow. It is definitely bittersweet that this story is ending, but I am so happy that I am able to actually end a story for once. I just want to thank all of you that have read, reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. It seriously means the world to me, you guys have no idea. Seeing the little notification emails pop up always serves to brighten my day and never fail to bring a smile to my face. Thank you for sticking with the story, the angst and the feels, and the crazy wild ride that I put you all through. There may be an additional doctor story, but we'll have to see how much time I have and what I could do with it. Keep your eyes open!

Thank you. For the last time, I hope that you guys all enjoy, and please leave a review if you have a minute :)

Anonymous: *hands all of the tissues* man, I have handed out a lot of tissues in this story! Definitely not a happy one, but thank you so much for your sweet comment :) Hope you like it!

If anyone's interested, I listened to "Fare Thee Well" while writing this. It fits pretty well.

You'd think after all this I'd own the Avengers, but *checks email to be sure* I still don't. Sorry!

"How are you doing?"

"Hm?" Natasha hummed, not paying attention as the voice caught her off guard. She turned to find Clint standing on the porch, leaning against the doorway. There was a bottle of beer in each hand and a smirk stuck to his face.

"I said," he started, getting away from the door to sit down in the chair next to her, "how are you feeling?" Clint passed her one of the bottles, which she took gratefully.

Natasha shrugged as much as she could and sighed, looking out at the landscape. They were on the front porch of Clint's house. Her injured leg was stuck up on another chair in front of her. It still stung and throbbed when she moved it, but she had been through much worse with much less comfort. "About as you would expect, but getting better," she replied honestly, nodding before she took a sip of the beverage.

"I know, vodka's more your thing, but I don't keep too much hard stuff here," Clint said, tilting her bottle towards hers in indication.

"It's the thought that counts," Natasha joked back, though honestly grateful for it. She took a moment to look at Clint. His features were relaxed in a way she had seldom seen. He was in a normal t-shirt and a flannel, of all things (she would be sure to save that mental image), and he had this half-grin permanently stuck on his face. He just seemed so…at peace here, where there were no bad guys or guns or explosions.

Natasha must have slipped up some by staring too long when Clint asked, "what? Stop studying me like I'm a freaking science experiment, Tash," he said, almost quizzically before laughing.

"Sorry," was her quick and quiet reply before she dropped her gaze, only to look back to him. He was never like this out in the field, or at the base. It made her wonder…why did he go back at all if he truly enjoyed it here so much?

She couldn't blame him. Clint had a fantastic home, with a sweet and caring wife. Every morning he could wake up to a rooster or some ungodly animal noise at an ungodly hour. He could watch the sun rise from his porch with a cup of coffee and spend the day working on the house, listening to the wind in the trees, or building up a life. He didn't have to listen for enemy footsteps, or work on cleaning his weapons. It was so much simpler.

"Why do you do it?" Natasha finally asked after a few minutes of thinking it over.

Clint chuckled and shook his head. "I'm no mind reader, you're gonna have to be just a bit more specific."

"This," she cleared up, gesturing with her free hand to everything around them. "It's so…peaceful and perfect, all apple pie and everything. Why do you go back to base? Why do you go on missions when this could be your life."

"This is my life," Clint replied immediately, "and so is the base and so are the missions," he shrugged, taking another sip before leaning back in the chair. "It's peaceful, sure, but you know me, Natasha. I can't sit still. Being out there…it gives me something to do. It gives me some…greater purpose. Sure, it's dangerous and noisy and sometimes it's hard to sleep at night," he shook his head, "but it's worth it."

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"Because I'm helping people. I'm taking down some small amounts of evil in the world so people like Laura and everyone else don't have to worry about it. It means I get hurt sometimes, or that I'm away from home for a little while, but I'm doing good in the world. It's messy and it's crazy, but most of the time it's good," Clint finished with a nod.

Natasha sat in silence for a moment, comprehending his answer. His purpose was here, but it was also there, out in the field. She was probably one of the only people that knew the two sides to Clint Barton.

"Aren't you ever worried you won't make it back home?"

He shrugged again. "Always. Laura and I, we've talked about it a few times, but not extensively, as you can probably imagine. If I do die, it'll be helping people, and I'm okay with that," he nodded. "But I don't plan on dying anytime soon, so don't think you can get rid of me that easily." Clint chuckled and looked out at the expanse of land in front of them.

The sky was starting to turn pink and purple with the sunset; the clouds seemingly set on fire by the receding light in the sky.

"Other people, this place, Laura, they give me something to fight for, you know? So no, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Natasha cast another glance towards Clint, who hadn't broken his gaze with the sky and the fields in front of him. Every so often, the beer bottle would be raised to his lips, but he didn't say another word. Neither did Natasha.

They sat outside long after the pink and purple had vanished. Eventually, Laura came out and curled up next to Clint, and together the three of them watched the stars dance on the black expanse of sky.

When Natasha found herself waking up, the first thing she registered was that her neck was sore. She craned it up, wincing slightly as it protested in pain. It took her a moment to remember why she was on the porch of the house once again.

They had all moved to the porch to be together, but out of the confines of the house. Afternoon turned to night, and soon everyone, including the kids, was sleeping outside on the chairs and couches, surrounded by the warm summer air.

Natasha sat up a little bit, a smile ghosting over her lips when she saw Laura with an arm around Cooper and Lila, the three of them lying on one of the lounges outside. Tony and Bruce were in the two-seater next to them, each of them with their heads hanging back onto the fabric. Thor was across from Natasha in a chair, his chin tucked into his chest.

It took her a moment to find Steve, eventually realizing that he was on the second lounge, seated next to Natasha. He had obviously heard her stirring, as he cracked an eye open to look at her.

"Everything alright?" he whispered, gradually waking up.

Natasha looked around at her sleeping family and nodded. "Yeah, just a dream. Didn't mean to wake you," she apologized.

Steve shook his head and propped himself up a bit higher. "I would've been up soon anyways. Sun's almost up. We old men can't sleep past sunrise," Steve joked, always knowing how to bring a smile to Natasha's face. "Good dream or bad dream?" he asked quietly.

"Good, for once." The first good dream in a long time, in fact. Bittersweet to the very core, but good.

Steve nodded slowly, looking at her before turning his eyes to the world in front of him. "That's good."

"Mhm."

They lapsed into silence, both of them yawning for a few times as they woke up and waited for the others to do the same. They were all sore from sitting and sleeping in the chairs all night, but that wasn't the only soreness in each of their souls.

After a few minutes, Steve began smiling as he looked over the sleeping Avengers and Bartons all out on the porch together. "Think they'll be alright?" he said, not looking away from them.

Natasha took a few moments to answer his question. She pictured the tree in the forest with the freshly moved ground under it.

"It's worth it."

She soon found herself smiling too. Natasha watched the sun begin to rise over the quiet farm and her sleeping friends. She watched the sun shoot layers of yellow and orange over the blue sky and the green trees, just like she had so many times before. She thought about how many sunrises and sunsets she had seen from that porch with Clint, either a beer bottle or a cup of coffee, or sometimes even a child in their hands.

"Yeah, I think so," she nodded. "We'll all be."

It would take time. It would take healing and pain and learning and growing. They would never fill the hole, that much was obvious, but with time they would be alright again. They'd make it work. This was their life, after all.

The sun set, but then again, it always rose after a period of darkness.

The End