Cliffhangers, it's what I do. I should have warned tissues were needed for the last chapter. Warning - tissues may be necessary for this chapter as well. By the way, I can confirm Barney is dead (yay, Mikayla) and shall suddenly appear. I mean, I think they need a break!

Thanks to everyone for the reviews, the favorites, and the follows! It makes me happy to know you're enjoying my little corner of the Avengers universe.

As a reminder, I don't own any characters (except my OC's) or actors, no matter how much I beg. I mean, my birthday is coming up, but at least I get The Falcon and the Winter Soldier premiere on my birthday, so there's that!

When she got settled, Clint resumed his post next to her bed. "They say the surgery went well, babe. You'll be able to go back to work after you wake up. The next hurdle is your back surgery. You've overcome so much since I've known you, Mikayla. This will be nothing but a minor hurdle." He pulled out her phone. "I'm tired of hearing my own voice. Let's start the playlist, shall we?" He went to her playlist and hit shuffle. Clint plugged the phone into the charger and let it play. He knew it had at least eight hours of songs on it, some he knew the reason behind and some he didn't. Mikayla tended to hear a line of a song and decided to add it to the list because it spoke to her at that moment in time.

"Need a break, Barton?"

"No, I'm good, Cap. Thanks."

"Let me rephrase that. You need a break, Barton."

"She might wake up."

"Then I'll call you. Go."

Clint sighed in resignation. "Fine. I'll go stretch my legs. Call me, remember?"

"I remember." When Clint left, Steve sat down and leaned over the bed rail. "I wish I knew what was going on in that brain of yours. If I had any serum left, I'd give it to you. I even tried to donate blood if you needed it, but because of the serum and the unknown effects it would have, I got shot down. I wish I could do more for you. The team hasn't been the same since you've been here. We're in a holding pattern. The bad guys know it and are even respecting the fact you're not back with us. No one's attacked us since you've been out, so there's that." He pulled out his sketchbook and started drawing.

"We call it the Odinsleep," Thor said quietly as he stepped into the room. "My father went into it when he felt his strength draining. I think here on Midgard we should call it the Avengersleep." Thor stood next to Mikayla. "Whenever one of our teammates are here, it brings to the surface how fragile Midgardians are. I would love to bring her back to Asgard and let our healers work their magic on her. I never understood their gifts. My mother, Frigga, had the gift, and she imparted it to Loki, even if he wasn't her natural son. When we Asgardians were wounded in battle, we would be taken to the healing room and placed on a table, much like the hospital beds here. The healers would gather round the warrior and tap into their gifts, working together to heal us."

"Sounds a lot like our teams of doctors and nurses."

"It does, Captain, it does. How is our fair Mikayla doing? I am sorry I missed the surgery this morning."

"They were able to fix her eyes so she shouldn't be blind when she wakes up."

"For that, I am grateful. She has fought enough battles lately. I'm glad the healers, uh, doctors were able to ease that burden from her." The two friends stood to watch over their fallen friend.

The next week went by without incident. Mikayla was still in the coma but continued showing brain activity. Her legs still didn't move, however. "10 days, Tash," Clint said late one night. "She's been here for ten damn days with no movement." His voice was wavering, and his tough, somber exterior was starting to show cracks.

"Her brain's active, and she's breathing on her own, Clint. Try and focus on the positive."

"I'm trying, Tash. It's getting harder every day."

"I know." Natasha took a step back from the bed. She didn't want Clint to sense how close she was to breaking. He needed her to be strong for him, so she swallowed the grief and worry that was trying to make its way to the forefront. This is what Natasha was used to, what she was trained for. Her phone buzzed. She stepped out into the hallway. "Romanoff…seriously? Yes, sir. I'll tell him." Natasha took a deep breath.

"Let me guess, mission?"

"Yep."

"How long?"

"We've got six hours."

Clint leaned back, still holding on to Mikayla's hand, and ran his hand through his hair. "Where?"

"Hungary."

"Not again. What makes Budapest so damn attractive to the bad guys?"

"It's like Sokovia was. It's nowhere special but on the way to everywhere special."

"Target?"

"Former HYDRA, of course. Gathering intel from a heavily guarded warehouse."

"So, easy in, easy out."

Natasha knelt next to him. "Is anything in our line of work?"

Clint shook his head. "Nope, and I've learned to not believe it when I'm told it is. You'll grab my stuff from the tower?"

"I will." Natasha stood and placed a hand over Mikayla's. "I'll let the team know so someone can be here." Natasha headed back to the tower.

Clint nodded. "Well, it looks like I'm back at work. Fury's decided we need to gather intel on some bad guys, so Nat and I are going back to Budapest." He lifted her hand and kissed her palm, then placed her hand against his cheek. "You get better. That's an order, Agent Fitzgerald." He stretched out and grabbed a few hours of sleep.

"Gear's in the car. Ready, Hawkeye?"

Clint stood up. "Ready, Widow."

"We'll keep an eye on her for you, Clint," Pepper said. He nodded as the partners left the room. Clint went into agent mode, forcing himself not to turn around and look back at Mikayla. "Amy put in her resignation. I refused to accept it and tore it up in front of her. She feels bad about her brother. I told her we didn't hold her responsible for her brother's actions. I know both Clint and Thor would agree. She came up here to see you. She just poked her head in. I think she was afraid if you woke up while she was here, you'd put an arrow through her. We both chuckled at that later." Pepper bit her lip. "We miss you, Mikayla. I miss you. We should be out shopping for wedding attire, not cooped up in a hospital room." Pepper began telling her stories about growing up in West Virginia and then talking about the early days of working with Tony.

'Babe, I'm leaving. I must be on my way. The time is drawing near.' "Why is that playing? Listen to the song, Fitzgerald.' Mikayla concentrated on the song she heard coming from somewhere. 'My train is going. I see it in your eyes. The love beneath your tears.' "Who's going? I'm supposed to be coming back to Clint, so he must be going. Fury must've figured he'd been on the sidelines long enough so he's back in the field. Please be safe, RH. I want you there when I come back. I just need to figure out how in the hell to do that. Well, I told Misty I'd crawl like a snake on my belly to get to my wheelchair on Valentine's Day, so I guess slithering it is. Funny, I always thought of myself as a Ravenclaw and Nat as more of a Slytherin. Clint, sorry, you're a Hufflepuff. You know, loyalty, patience, and all that. It's making my head hurt thinking about the others. I think I'll stop for now."

Pepper thought she heard a groan from Mikayla. She looked and saw she was still out of it, so she figured it was just her imagination. Sam and Misty came to relieve her several hours later. Misty told Sam stories about her and Mikayla in college while Sam relayed stories about him and his partner who died in the service. Rhodey even stopped by and brought Wanda to see Mikayla. "So, they got him? Clint's brother, the man who did this to her?"

"They did. From what Tony told me, she did. The rest of the group was handled by the team."

"Good. That way, they won't hurt anyone again."

"No, they won't."

"Do they know when she'll wake up?"

Rhodey shook his head. "It's up to her. She's breathing on her own and is showing brain activity, so those are good things."

"I hope it's soon. I miss hearing my friend's voice."

"Me, too, Wanda." The two sat in silence and kept watch over Mikayla.

Several days later, Clint and Natasha returned from their mission. After dropping their gear off at the tower, they hurried to the hospital. "Any change?"

Thor shook his head. "Welcome back. No, she is still the same, but the doctors are ever hopeful." He stepped back, allowing Clint to slip in and sit next to the bedside. Clint had spent the entire trip back singing to himself as if the power of music could bring her back. When he got to her room, he hummed "Time After Time," subconsciously believing if any song could wake her up, it would be that one. "I kept her music playing. I know how important music can be. We use it on Asgard as well to set moods and help calm people down."

"Thanks, Thor." Clint was wearing a knee brace and had several bandages up and down his arms.

"Did the mission go well?"

"It did. We got what we needed." Clint looked over at Thor. "Landed on my knee wrong during a scuffle."

"That's Clint speak for a three-hundred-pound man rolled over on his leg as he tried to slash Barton with a knife," Natasha smirked.

"No need to share details, Romanoff."

"Now, young Barton, there's no need to be ashamed of being injured in battle. Wear it as a badge of honor." Thor smiled as he clasped Clint's shoulder.

"I think I've got enough badges. Thanks, though." Clint focused his attention on the music playing on Mikayla's phone. Thor and Natasha stepped out and went to the waiting room, allowing the couple to be alone.

"Music. Where's that coming from?" Mikayla looked around. "I thought Barney destroyed my phone. Well, I did memorize my playlist. It's the only thing that kept me sane during the incident. That, and knowing Clint would find me. I just kept repeating his voice in my head, that I was his kick-ass fiancée, that I was a fighter." 'This is my fight song, take back my life song, prove I'm all right song.'

Clint heard a new noise, so he paused Mikayla's music. He swore he saw her lips moving and moved closer to her.

This is my fight song

Take back my life song

Prove I'm all right song

"Mikayla?"

"It's not real, can't be real. If I keep singing, maybe I can make it real." She continued singing softly until she felt a hand on her cheek. Mikayla immediately recognized the owner of the callouses. "Clint?"

He'd never wanted to cry so much in his life. "Mikayla, you're awake. You're back with me."

She lifted her hand and covered his. "Where am I?"

Clint leaned over and kissed her. "You're in the hospital. Let me call the team and the staff." He pulled out his phone and texted Nat, who alerted the nursing staff. The team beat the staff to the room.

"Clint? Why can't I see you?"

"Shhh. You've got bandages over your eyes."

"Take them off. I need to see you to make sure this is real."

"Believe me. This is real. The doctors are on their way."

"Is he dead?"

Clint smiled. "He is, babe."

"Finally, we're free."

"Yeah, we're free." Clint stroked her face. "You are such a beautiful sight."

"I'll take your word for it." She was lying on her right side facing him, keeping hold of his hand.

"Agent Fitzgerald," Dr. Sullivan said as he entered the room with the medical team.

"Who? Oh, yeah, me."

"Welcome back."

"Thanks."

"I'm Dr. Sullivan, and I've been overseeing your care since you've been here."

"How long?"

"You've been in a coma for two weeks."

Mikayla's jaw dropped. "Two…two weeks? How am I still here?"

Dr. Sullivan smiled. "You have a strong will, Agent Fitzgerald. We'll run some tests, but you've already passed the basic ones. You know who you are, and it appears you know who this man is."

Mikayla blushed. "My devastatingly handsome and patient fiancé, Clint Barton. Where's the rest of the team? Wait, give me a minute. They're standing in the doorway. I can hear feet shuffling, and I can tell Tony needs a shower." She wrinkled her nose. Natasha held out her hand, and Tony handed her ten bucks.

"Good job. I don't think you'll have any problems with the rest of the exam."

"That's good. Why are my eyes covered?"

"Your retinas were detached, probably from the beatings. We did surgery to reattach them. If you're ready, I can remove the bandages, and we can look at your eyes." Mikayla nodded, then tried to roll over. "Go ahead and stay where you're at. That way, the first face you see will be – "

"Mine," Clint smiled, wanting to delay the rest of the news a little longer.

Dr. Sullivan had someone turn off the lights and removed the bandages, shielding her eyes. "Go ahead and blink. Tell me what you see and how they feel."
"They're a little sore. It looks like it does when I don't have my contacts in or my glasses on, blurry. I can see you, RH, so you can stop the waterworks."

Clint leaned in and kissed her temple. "Welcome back, my brown-eyed girl."

The group released a collective sigh of relief. "That's a start. We'll give you some eye drops to use, which will help with the blurriness." Mikayla nodded. "How does your torso feel?"

Mikayla thought about it, trying to find the right word. "Raw."

"That's to be expected. From what we could tell and from what Agent Barton shared," the doctor looked over at Clint, who motioned for him to continued, "you were beaten with a belt and some type of board. As for your stomach, you were burned with a cattle prod."

Mikayla bit her lip. She was afraid if she cried, it would hurt too much. "Well, I guess if there's a contest for most scars, I'll have a good chance of winning."

"I wouldn't go that far. We've been treating them with cream and they're slowly healing. We've been administering antibiotics through your IV to flush out the infection, which has been successful."

"Doctor, I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me." She started to hyperventilate, and increased beeping could be heard coming from the monitors.

"Breathe, Mikayla." Clint began rubbing her temples. "Focus on me, focus on my breathing." He stood up and leaned into her, bringing her head to his chest. "Come on. You've got this. Just breathe." After a few minutes, the beeping and her breathing returned to normal. "Good job."

Mikayla went to scratch the back of her neck. "Clint, did you put my hair in a bun?"

"No."

"What about a ponytail?"

"Nope."

"Clint, where the hell is my hair?"

"Well, uh, they had to cut it because of your injuries. I'm sorry, babe."

"Do you know how long it took to get it to grow that long?" She started crying. "I know it doesn't seem like much, but it was my hair."

Clint laid her head on his shoulder. "I know, and I'm sorry. When you get out of here, we'll get it styled. Plus," he whispered, "you're just as sexy. Don't worry. There's still enough for me to pull." He smirked as he kissed her temple.

"Leave it to you to find the sex angle in all of this. Nat, how much money have you made so far?"

"At least fifty bucks."

"Good, that means lunch on you when I get out of here." She turned her attention back to Dr. Sullivan. "Exactly when am I getting out of here? Can I stand up now? I'm already tired of being in bed and I just woke up."

"Agent Fitzgerald – "

"Mikayla, please."

"OK, Mikayla. We'll also have to do back surgery. You have several compression fractures which need to be surgically repaired."

That's when it hit her. "Is that why I can't feel my legs? I've been so focused on everything else that it's just now hitting me. Doctor, am I going to be paralyzed?"

"We don't think so. We'll know more after the surgery. There may be some temporary paralysis, but the surgery will tell us more." He reached down and clasped her arm. "The most important thing is you're awake now. We'll handle the rest of it as it comes. I'll be back later. Give you some time with your friends." He left and was followed by the nurses after they took vitals and more blood.

"I'm paralyzed, Clint. Let's go over this, shall we?" I've got a broken wrist, eyesight that's healing, a broken back, scars across said back, a nice burn across my stomach, short hair, and I can't move my legs. Damn Barney Barton to hell! I'm still not free, now I'm a prisoner in my own freaking body! Damn it! I can't even roll over without help." Clint went to help her, but she drew her arm back. "No! I'll figure it out myself." She eventually used her arms and elbows to prop herself up and turn away from everyone. "I'm fine. You're dismissed. I don't need anyone's pity." She pulled the sheet up so no one would have to stare at her back. 'I can only imagine how gross that is. I must be the ugliest person in the world. Clint's definitely leaving me now. I'm turning into a whiny bitch who's doing nothing but feeling sorry for herself.' "Please, just go. That means you, too, Clinton Hawkeye Barton." He started to reach out and stroke her hair or clasp her shoulder but respected her wishes and shuffled out the door on the team's heels.

The group returned to the waiting room. "I just got her back, and now I've lost her again, Tash."

"Clint," Natasha sat down next to him. "She's been through hell and just had all this info dumped on her. Can you blame her for being upset? We're going to have to give her time to work through it."

"How in the hell can he still be having this much effect on us even after he's dead?" Clint bowed his head, trying to figure out a way he could help Mikayla. "I'll be back." He limped off, looking for the closest flight of stairs. Once he found them, he went up to the roof, then sat down on the edge of the roof and looked out over the city. "Phil, what do I do? There's not a damn thing I can do for her. If I could, I'd cut off my legs and give them to her. She finally woke up after two damn weeks, and now she's chasing us away, chasing me away." He stared off into the sky, swinging his legs off the roof, feeling the breeze strike him in the face. This is where he did his best work and his best thinking, away from the crowds. It had been like that for him for as long as he could remember. When he was a little kid, after another round of beatings from his dad, Clint would climb up into the loft and curl up in a corner, trying to hide from the world, and dream about getting away from that world. His skills helped him in the circus. Obviously, he wasn't scared of heights, so he became a trapeze artist/marksman. Once he became Hawkeye full-time, he'd still climb to the highest rafters and shoot targets, amazing the crowd with his skill and talent. He transferred that skill to the Army, becoming a sniper, operating again up and away from the public, and now SHIELD and the Avengers. High up is still where he was able to clear his mind and focus. Now his focus was on Mikayla. "She's been off her medication for at least a month, so that's a possibility. I know Tasha's right that she had a lot thrown at her. I need to give her time to take it all in. While she's going through the process, I'll be whatever she wants me to be and do whatever she needs me to do. I'll put my sniper skills to use and patiently wait."

"It'll be the most important job you'll ever have. I seem to remember a certain someone who was all out of sorts after a battle." He should've known Natasha would find him up here, probably trying to make sure he wasn't becoming Broody McBrooderson.

"You mean who had been mind-controlled and had his brain scrambled by a wannabe dictator," Clint said matter-of-factly.

"Okay, if you want to be brutal about it, yes. It took you some time to get over everything thrown at you."

"But none of what happened to Mikayla was her fault."

Natasha sighed and rolled her eyes. "It wasn't your fault, either. Wrong place, wrong time, remember?"

"Let's hope she handles this better than I did that."

"She will once she reframes her mind. She'll come to her senses, and we'll be there for her."

"Yeah, don't think cognitive recalibration will help."

Natasha patted him on the back. "If I thought it would, I'd do it." She stood up. "I'll be in the waiting room."

After about an hour, he heard another voice. "Clint?" Wanda's timid voice asked.

"Hey, Wanda."

She slowly approached him. "Is it okay?"

He nodded. "Sure, have a seat."

Wanda sat down next to him. "How can we help her? It's like she's back, but she's not."

"I wish I knew, other than giving her time to get through it. It seemed to work when we were at her farm."

"Do you think…maybe I could help? That seemed to work at the farm, too. I'd like to have my friend back. I miss talking to her."

Clint put an arm around Wanda's shoulders. He knew this had to be hard on her. He knew what it was like to lose your family, to lose everything you ever knew. Wanda and Mikayla had become close friends in the short time they'd known each other. In their way, they helped each other heal. "I missed her, too. It can't hurt to ask her. Maybe you can get through to her better than anyone else." Clint stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, let's go ask her." Wanda took his hand. He helped her up, and the two went back inside.