Thank you, everyone, who is still with me on the journey, and welcome to my little corner of the fanfic world to those of you who are relatively new here! We have an ending to the last mission, then an unplanned mission.

Those of you who were reading my Whumptober stories may recognize the second part of this chapter. I reworked it to fit where the characters are now. I hope you enjoy it!

The following day, a car picked the four up from the hotel and shuttled them to the airport, where Stark's jet was waiting to return them to New York. Once they arrived in New York, they all headed to bed to get some sleep before the debrief the following day. "Did we truly get the bastards?" Mikayla asked.

Tony answered. "You bet. Bucky took the main guy out with one shot."

"I could've done that," Clint muttered under his breath to Mikayla, who ran her hand along his arm.

"Yes," Mikayla whispered in his ear, "but then I wouldn't have been able to see you in the suit."

"Good point, shutting up now." Clint grinned.

"Eyes up here. Recap of the mission, please." Fury's voice bellowed from the screen. Steve gave a recap of what occurred at the hotel. To their relief, he left out Clint and Mikayla's escapade. Tony filled him in on their end and how Bucky neutralized the main bad guy, with Sam, Thor, and Tony taking out his associates. "Good, four fewer bastards the world has to worry about. Until next time, Avengers." The transmission ended.

The group stood up and left the conference room. As Mikayla opened the fridge, looking for something for breakfast, Fury's words hit her. Her hand gripped the handle, and she froze. "Babe, are you okay?" Clint asked.

"Did Fury say what I think he said?"

"Good? Yeah, he said that."

"No, after that."

Clint went over the words, then the recognition came. "He called us Avengers."

Mikayla turned around. "Clint, I am so not an Avenger."

"Shhh." Clint put a finger over her mouth, then moved her away from the fridge so others could get into it. "Were you on the mission? Do you want to make the world a better place?" She nodded. "Welcome to the Avengers, Sharky." He kissed her temple. "I always said you'd fit in with this crazy group." Clint wrapped an arm around her. "He'd be so proud of you."

"I know." Mikayla's voice softened as she laid her head on Clint's shoulder. "I still miss him."

"Me, too, babe. Me, too." The two stood in quiet contemplation until the rest of the group begin filing into the room. "How about we go out for breakfast? We can go to a place by my apartment. It'll be quieter."

'Less stressful, he means.' "Sure, sounds good."

Clint pulled out his phone. "Looks like it's going to be another sunny day, so shouldn't be any weather issues."

"We're taking the bike?"

"If that's what you want, sure."

"Yay!" The couple went to the garage, hopped on the bike, and Clint drove them to his apartment, where he parked the bike and walked to a nearby diner. Clint held the door open for Mikayla, and she walked in. "Now I know why you like my diner. This one looks a lot like it, but it doesn't have Edna."

Clint nodded to the waitress behind the counter as he escorted Mikayla to a booth in the back. After sitting in the booth, Mikayla looked around. It did remind her a lot of the diner back home, and, of course, Clint picked the booth with the best vantage point. From this angle, he could see the rest of the diner and all the exits. "Hey, Jeremy!" The waitress behind the counter yelled. "Be right over with some coffee." Clint nodded.

"Jeremy?" Mikayla asked.

"I can't walk around telling everyone my real name."

Mikayla shook her head. "Once a spy, always a spy, I guess." It was times like these she began doubting herself. How would she ever keep all her names straight? The only solution she came up with was to create a spreadsheet and a daily reminder of who she was supposed to be that day. 'I think I got in over my head, jumped in too quick. I should've waited until I was completely healed before agreeing to join SHIELD.'

"Babe?" Clint was knocking on the table to get her attention. "Everything okay?"

"Just thinking."

"You mean overthinking, don't you?" Clint took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "Wanna talk about what's going on in that head of yours?"

"Sorry it took so long," the harried waitress hurried over to the table, setting two cups on the table, pouring coffee in each. Mikayla looked up at a girl who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, dirty blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail with hair hanging around her face that had fallen out of the elastic holder. "Did you need menus?"

Clint shook his head. "Two specials, please. Everything okay, Brittany?"

"Got here late, had to take mom for her weekly treatment, and the doc was running late."

"How is she?"

"Hanging in there, cancer hasn't progressed."

"That's good news."

"It is." The bell over the door jingled. "I'll go put in your orders." Brittany whirled around, left the carafe on the table, and went back behind the counter, shouting to the cook.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what? Be so charming? It's a family trait."

"No, the different names. How do you keep track of them?"

Clint drank his coffee, then refilled the cup from the carafe. "Practice. It wasn't easy at first, but you learn little tricks along the way. You try to pick names that can't be traced back to you, or at least make a slight change to it."

"Like Natalie Rushman."

"Exactly like that. Plus, you're usually given enough time to become familiar with your new name since it will come with a story. The more you live the life, the shorter that time becomes."

"So, tell me about Jeremy." Mikayla smiled as Clint refilled her coffee cup.

"He works for a large restaurant group, travels across the country for the openings, explains why he's hardly ever home. An only child, he's originally from Chicago, relocated up here when he took the job. When's he home, he doesn't socialize a lot, tends to be a bit of a loner but loves eating at his favorite diner. The only routine thing about him is what he orders for breakfast."

"Nice to meet you, Jeremy. Do I get to come up with my cover story, or do you already have one planned?"

"You are my adoring fiancée, Scarlett Johnson. We met at one of the restaurants where you were training the staff. You're a native New Yorker, have one sister, parents live in a retirement community in Buffalo, closer to your sister since she's a stay-at-home mom, which makes it easier for her to check in on them. We haven't set a date yet because we're waiting for our work schedules to clear."

Mikayla wrapped her hands around Clint's arm and leaned on his shoulder. "Scarlett, Scarlett," she mumbled under her breath as if trying the name on for size. "So, Jeremy," she said out loud, "what's your schedule looking like for this week?"

Clint grinned. "I'm home for the first part of the week, and then I have to travel to Detroit on Thursday. You?"

"Would you look at that? I've got the same schedule. How often does that happen?"

"Not often enough." Clint leaned over and kissed Mikayla.

"Ahem," Brittany cleared her throat as she sat down their breakfasts. "Two specials, per your request. Do I get to meet the lucky lady?"

"Brittany, meet my fiancée, Scarlett Johnson. Scarlett, this is the best and hardest working waitress in the five boroughs, Brittany Smith."

Mikayla stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Brittany. Jeremy is always talking up this place, so as soon as I flew back home, I made sure this was the first place he took me."

"I hope it lives up to the hype," Brittany smiled. "Let me refill the carafe for you. Anything else I can bring you?"

"Peanut butter for the pancakes, please."

"Sure thing, Scarlett." Brittany picked up the carafe and walked away.

"Peanut butter?"

"You heard me. Scarlett likes peanut butter instead of butter and syrup on her pancakes. She also puts ketchup on her hash browns and eggs."

"I should've vetted Scarlett more carefully before asking her to marry me. I mean, peanut butter? Really?"

"I can make sure to leave some for you to wipe off," Mikayla smirked.

"I'm holding you to that, Scarlett," Clint emphasized the name, then followed it up with something only Mikayla could hear. "Great job creating a character. It's giving you a chance to put your improv classes to use."

"Good point."

"Yep, that's me. The archer with a point." Clint smirked as Mikayla groaned. "I couldn't help it."

"Yes, yes you could. You just didn't want to."

"True." The couple chuckled then ate their breakfast, Brittany checking on them when she could as the breakfast rush had hit. She was the only waitress and was rushing from table to table. It appeared, though, that most of the customers were regulars and were patient.

"You were right, Jeremy. This is one of the best places to eat."

"Have I ever led you astray, Scarlett?" He leaned in and ran his tongue over her lips, then licked his lips. "Mmm, peanut butter." Mikayla rolled her eyes.

"Was everything okay?" Brittany asked, dropping off their check and gathering up their empty plates.

"Jeremy was spot on, best breakfast ever," Mikayla answered.

"Glad to hear it, Scarlett. I hope you'll come back."

"I'm sure we'll be back. Thanks, Brittany." She nodded as she left to drop off their empty plates and take care of other customers.

Clint looked over at Mikayla. "Ready?" Mikayla nodded. Clint took some money out of his wallet and laid it on the table, waving to Brittany as they left the restaurant. When they got to the bike, he turned to Mikayla. "Where to now?"

"Hmm, what about the Tarrytown area? There are some majestic homes to see, there's a state park somewhere around there, and maybe we can go to Sleepy Hollow and find the headless horseman?"

"Whatever you say. I love having my own personal tour guide." The couple chuckled, Clint started the bike, and they drove north. They went to Rockefeller State Park Preserve to stretch their legs and take in nature, then traveled around Westchester County to admire the architecture of the old money mansions, ending up in Sleepy Hollow.

"Look, a county fair. You going to be okay?"

"Yep, I stopped getting nauseous at the smell of cotton candy and popcorn years ago. It does bring back memories, though." Clint thought back to his time with the circus. To help prove their worth, they were trained in the art of pickpocketing. After the show, they'd walk around the crowd and take wallets and billfolds from unsuspecting patrons. Clint hated doing it, but he hated getting beat up more, so he went along with it. He figured he'd wiped that red out of his ledger by taking money from the carnies working the rigged games. "If we had the car, I'd win you a lot of stuffed animals."

Mikayla took his arm. "That's sweet of you, but you would always win them and give them to kids who don't have any."

Clint smiled. "Good idea." They walked over to the first game they spotted, a dart-throwing game where you could win a prize by popping a balloon; the smaller the balloon, the larger the prize. "Watch and learn." Clint walked up to the carnie with his aw-shucks look and handed him some money.

"Gonna try and win something for your lady?" The carnie bellowed at him.

"Something like that." Clint took the darts and paused a moment, weighing them in his hands, knowing they were too light to bust the extra thick balloons. He tossed the first one and missed.

"That's okay. You've got two more chances." The second dart also resulted in a miss.

"If I don't win her something, she might leave me," Clint said to the carnie.

"Better make it a good shot, then." The carnie lecherously eyed Mikayla, who wisely chose to ignore him and focus on Clint and how good he looked in jeans. "Good shot, guess that means she'll keep you." Looking disappointed, the carnie went to hand Clint a small stuffed pig, then added, "Tell you what. If you buy three more and can bust two of the three, I'll upgrade it to a large prize."

Clint turned and looked at Mikayla, then winked at her, shrugged his shoulders, and turned back to the game. "Sure, what have I got to lose, other than my girlfriend, of course." He blushed.

"That's the spirit, my friend." The carnie took Clint's money and handed him three darts. Clint stared at the board, figured out the weight and the trajectories in his mind, took a moment to visualize the shot, then threw all three darts simultaneously. The darts landed in the center of the three smallest balloons. In response, Mikayla became giddy, clapping her hands and jumping up and down. "Uh, you been holding out on me, friend," growling when he uttered that last word.

Clint leaned in and, using a calm, demanding voice, spoke to the carnie, smiling the entire time, though the smile didn't travel to his eyes. "I know your secrets. I know about the light darts and specially made balloons, so here's what you're going to do to make sure I don't broadcast your secrets to everyone within the sound of my voice. You're going to give me three of the largest prizes you have, which look like the bird, the spider, and the dog. I'll leave with a happy girlfriend, and you'll be here still able to cheat these good folks out of their money, though I have a feeling you won't because you never know when I'll show back up. Deal?"

"Uh, deal, mister." The pock-marked, greasy-haired man turned around, took the stuffed animals off their hooks, and handed them to Clint. "Look here, folks. See what you can win with the throw of a dart!" The carnie started nervously shouting to the crowd.

"Here you go, babe. You pick one, and we'll give the other two away."

"Hmm, let's see. I have my own Hawkeye so that one can go to a good home. I'm friends with Black Widow so that the spider can go, so by process of elimination, the golden puppy it is. I'll name it Lucky, but I don't think it'll fit on the bike."

"I'll text Nat. She can come up here with a car and take it back. Maybe Steve can come up here with her and win her something at the strongman game."

Mikayla leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I adore you, and I think I've found the perfect kids to give them to." She pointed toward a woman holding the hands of a boy and a girl who both looked to be around 8 or 9. They were wearing Hawkeye shirts and the little boy had a toy bow and arrow strung around him. "Damn, why don't they make those shirts in adult sizes? I want one."

Clint leaned in and whispered, "Yeah, but you've got the real Hawkeye, and you wear his shirts all the time."

Mikayla blushed. "True." Mikayla walked up to the woman and tapped her on the shoulder. "Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you. My fiancé won me some stuffed animals. We came here on a motorcycle so don't have a way to carry them back. Could we maybe give two of them to your children?" The mother looked dumbfounded that anyone would want to do something like that and wasn't sure what to say. "By the way, I love the shirts."

This seemed to put the woman at ease. "Thanks. They had a classmate on a bus during the alien attack, and Hawkeye rescued him, so they've been fans ever since. They want to be like him when they grow up."

After receiving permission from their mother, Mikayla knelt to their level to talk to them. "That's awesome. I happen to know Hawkeye, so I'll tell him he has a couple of fans."

"You'd do that?" The little girl asked in amazement.

Clint stood back, watching Mikayla interact with the two children, causing him to fall more in love with her. He confirmed then what he'd told her at the outdoor mall, that since they couldn't have children the natural way, he would love nothing more than to give a child a new life via adoption. He put down the stuffed animals and called Nat. "Got a favor to ask," Clint told her about his predicament with the stuffed animals. She said she'd be there shortly. After ending the call, Clint returned to watching Mikayla interacting with the kids. When the little girl turned around, he noticed she had black hair and brown eyes, resembling what Mikayla may have looked like as a child and how she would've turned out if she'd had a daughter. Clint's heart leaped to his throat, thinking about the possibility of becoming a parent. He knew he didn't have the best examples for parents, so he figured if he did the opposite of what Francis and Edith Barton did, he couldn't go wrong. Plus, the kids would have Mikayla for their mother, who was most definitely not in the mold of his mother.

Mikayla was still talking to the family. "Do you think he'd send us a photo? I think he's kinda cute." Clint heard that and blushed. Mikayla looked behind her, saw Clint, and smiled. "I think that could be arranged." She stood up and leaned toward their mother. "I happen to be engaged to Hawkeye, and I'll make sure they get some autographed photos." She happened to have one of her old business cards. "Do you happen to have a pen and paper?" Their mother nodded, dug through her purse, located a receipt and pen, handing them to Mikayla, who scribbled down her cell number. "Please call me. I'll be happy to put you in touch with someone who can verify my story. In fact, if you turn around, you might recognize someone." The woman looked and saw Clint, her eyes almost popping out of her head. Clint nodded in recognition. "He's very private due to his line of work outside the Avengers, so please don't say anything."

The woman regained her composure. "Thank you so much. You have made our day. His secret's safe with me."

"You're welcome. What are their names?"

"Tabitha and Trevor, they're twins. Trevor is deaf, and that's why he hasn't said anything."

Mikayla smiled. "I have another surprise for you." She walked over to Clint and told him about Trevor, then brought him over to the family. "Does Trevor know sign language?"

"He does."

Clint knelt and started using his ASL skills to engage Trevor in conversation. Watching the two, Mikayla had never been more proud and more determined to have Clint teach her. After a lengthy talk, Clint stood. "Here you go." He gave the two stuffed animals to Tabitha and Trevor, then ruffled their hair. "Enjoy the rest of the carnival, guys."

"Thank you both so much," their mom said.

"I don't think we ever got your name," Mikayla said.

"Paula Carter."

Clint and Mikayla shook her hand. "Please be sure to give me a call so we can arrange the photographs." The couple waved at the family as they walked away. Mikayla took Clint's hand as they went in the opposite direction. "Did you reach Nat?"

He nodded. "She's on her way." Clint looked at Mikayla and noticed she was sniffing.

"Allergies, or are you crying?"

"That was a really sweet moment back there. It got me thinking about Tony and Pepper and what great parents they're going to make. They'll balance each other out. Tony will be the grandiose dad that will spoil his child to no end, and Pepper will be the disciplinarian, the voice of reason. It also got me to thinking about a conversation we've had before."

Clint thought he knew where this was going but wanted to hear her say it. "About?"

"Adopting. I mean, you once said it would be a perfect way to give a child a new start in life. You and I, we've both had our share of chances, so why not give one to someone else? So, maybe, after we get married, we could look into it?"

Clint's smile grew. "I was thinking the same thing while watching you with Tabitha. I wondered if that was what you looked like at that age, which got me to thinking about adopting a child less fortunate, and, yes, giving them a new start, another chance."

"So, since we're on the topic, I came up with an idea. What about adopting a hearing-impaired or a deaf child?" You could teach both of us ASL."

"That is an excellent idea." He softly kissed her. "We can do research when we get back home." Clint kissed her again. "You are going to be the hottest, sexiest soccer mom."

"And you're going to be the most handsome dad at parent-teacher conferences."

"Nice to know the sappiness is back in full strength," Natasha greeted the couple as they walked through the parking lot to the bike. "How many did you win?"

"Only three gave two away," Clint replied as he and Mikayla followed Natasha to the car. After Natasha unlocked the car, Clint put the stuffed dog in the front seat. "Meet Lucky."

"No, not in the front seat," Natasha ordered.

Clint huffed, taking the dog out and repositioning it in the back seat, patting its head. "Be a good boy for Nat, Lucky." Natasha flashed him her middle finger as she drove away. Clint and Mikayla laughed as they walked toward the bike, Mikayla leaning her head on Clint's arm. When they reached the cycle, a man appeared from the nearby woods, grabbing Mikayla and throwing her to the ground. Clint had seen him out of the corner of his eye but couldn't warn Mikayla in time. He immediately went on the defensive, punching and kicking at the man. To slow the attacker down, Clint pulled out a knife and began swinging it. As he did, a group of men appeared from the other direction, restraining Clint and injecting something into his neck, causing him to go limp and drop the knife. Once it was confirmed Clint was unconscious, several of the attackers whisked him away. The others stayed behind, beating Mikayla until she was barely conscious. They left her in the parking lot in a bloodied heap and followed the group holding Clint back into the woods.

"Clint," Mikayla softly moaned, "where are you?" She had the wherewithal to pull out her phone. "Nat…help…Clint." Those were the only words she could get out before falling into unconsciousness.

"Shit," Natasha growled and called the tower, making a quick U-turn to return to the fair.

"On your way home already, spider lady?"

"Tony, it's Mikayla. I'm sending you coordinates."

"What?" Natasha filled him in on what she knew, which wasn't much.

"Where's Clint?"

"No clue."

"Full team will be right there." Tony hung up. The team was hanging out in the living room watching TV. "Avengers, suit up."

"Didn't we just get back from a mission?" Steve asked. "Where's Fury sending us now?"

Tony pulled up the coordinates. "Didn't come from Fury. Something happened to Clint and Mikayla. She called Nat, barely able to speak, called for Clint. They're not that far, so we'll be there shortly. They're just north of the city." 5 minutes later, the team was in the Quinjet flying to Sleepy Hollow. They found a small clearing and landed. Thor was the first one to exit and immediately saw Nat kneeling next to Mikayla.

"How is she?" Thor asked.

"Guessing concussion and broken ribs. Tires on the bike have been slashed," Natasha replied.

"The doctor is here and ready to examine our lady archer." Natasha nodded.

"Hold up," Tony appeared, wearing his suit. "Friday, vitals?" Tony ran his hand over Mikayla to scan her.

"Strong heartbeat and pulse, boss."

"Get her to Bruce, Thor."

"At once." Thor cradled Mikayla in his arms and quickly returned to the jet.

"What the hell happened here?"

"From what I can tell," Natasha said, "they were ambushed. Someone, Clint, probably, fought back. They were separated. There's a trail of blood over there." She pointed toward an area of the woods. "No clue who's blood, though." Steve and Bucky followed the blood trail into the woods, while Natasha and Tony looked around the parking lot for any additional evidence.

About an hour later, Steve and Bucky returned. "Well?" Tony asked, almost scared to hear the response.

Steve spoke. "We found an abandoned cabin and searched it. No sign of Clint."

"Something didn't feel right about it, though," Bucky added.

"What do you mean?" Tony asked.

"It felt off. I can't put my finger on it. I'm going back." Bucky spun around and walked back into the trees with his 'murder strut,' as Steve and Natasha labeled it.

Thor came down the ramp of the Quinjet. "Friends, Mikayla is awake and has information for us."

The group hurried into the plane. Mikayla was on a bed, sitting up slightly. The others gathered around her. "Did you find him?"

"Not yet," Natasha answered.

"Bucky's still looking."

Mikayla clenched her fist, and a terrified look crossed her face. "Steve, you need to find them. You need to find Clint and Bucky."

"Why?"

"It's HYDRA. I heard one of the men say HYDRA wanted Hawkeye."

Steve's jaw clenched. "They can't have him, can't have either one of them." He stormed out of the jet and back into the woods.

"Damn it, Tony," Natasha said. "We just got back from a HYDRA base and found nothing mentioning Clint's name."

"Nat? Get him back, please?" Mikayla shakily begged through her tears. "Bring him home." Just that small expression of emotion seemed to wear her out, and she passed out, still crying.

When Clint came to, he was sitting in a chair, his hands and feet bound tight enough he couldn't move to try and escape. He could tell one eye was swollen shut, blood dripping above his other eye, and his lip was split. From the pain he felt in his various body parts, he knew he'd been struck in the ribs, abdomen, and knees. His wrists and ankles felt raw from where the ropes had rubbed against his skin. Clint looked around with a half-opened eye, noticing the room had no windows and one door that he could see. There were a few metal chairs along the wall, and he thought he saw a file cabinet off to the right, just beyond his view. Behind him, he could hear movement, so he assumed he wasn't alone, confirmed shortly after when he heard a voice from behind him.

"You're a hard man to find, Hawkeye." A blond-haired man with a receding hairline and a goatee stepped into Clint's view and paced in front of him.

"You haven't looked in the right places," Clint quipped and tried spitting on the guy. Unfortunately, the beating he took emptied his stomach, so he couldn't work up enough saliva.

The man chose to ignore him. "We've got people willing to pay a high price for you and your services."

Clint chuckled. "Haven't you heard? I'm priceless. Also, I'm not for sale. I'm perfectly happy working for who I work for."

In response, the man backhanded him. "That's it. I've had enough of your lip." He then motioned to someone else behind him. Suddenly, Clint was ripped up from the chair, causing additional damage to his hands and feet. Before he knew it, he was strung up, hanging from what best could be described as a meat hook, his hands, and feet bound again, still too tight for him to escape. Of course, he wasn't going to advise his captors he could dislocate his shoulders, making it easier to get out of this situation. "Oh, don't think we don't know your tricks, Hawkeye. We're aware of your time in the circus. Your brother, before he died, shared much information with us."

"Us?"

"I guess it's only fair you should know where you're headed since it will probably be the last thing you'll remember. We're working on behalf of HYDRA. They're looking for replacements for the updated Winter Soldier program and believe your skills will fit nicely in their program." Clint tensed up when he heard the words HYDRA and Winter Soldier program. There was no way in hell he was going to let anyone have control of his mind ever again. He sent a quick apology to Mikayla, knowing she would understand if he died rather than giving in and letting someone else control him. The man motioned to someone out of Clint's view. Clint knew the next thing. Something flew across his back, causing him to arch away from it. He assumed it to be some type of whip with steel pellets embedded in the leather from the feel of the wounds. "This is going to be enjoyable, just not for you." Clint bit his lip as much as he could to keep from screaming, but after about 15 lashes, the pain was too intense, and he cried out. "Impressive. Most subjects react after only five strikes. I'm sure your new masters will appreciate your tenacity. I'll contact them and advise you're well prepared. Please stay here."

As the man opened the door, Clint used his last bit of energy for one more retort. "Where else am I gonna go?" The man holding the whip jammed a needle into Clint's neck. Clint struggled but soon passed out, hanging limply from the hook, allowing the torturer standing behind him to get in a few more licks, causing Clint's body to spasm.

Steve caught up to Bucky. "Any luck?" Bucky shook his head. "What was off about the cabin?"

"Remember when we found Mikayla in the barn?" Steve nodded. "There were a couple of cellars. I think Clint's being held in one. HYDRA's known for going underground, so why not? Won't be as obvious as the ones on the farm, though." Upon arriving at the cabin, Bucky motioned Steve to investigate the left side as Bucky went right. Steve investigated anything he thought might be a door but came up empty. "Found something," Bucky said through the comm. "Southwest corner of the structure." Steve hurried and met Bucky, who pointed to a disturbance in the soil. "Handle," he whispered. Bucky dislodged some of the dirt to reveal the handle. "Has all the markings of HYDRA. It's well-hidden, out of the way, and an underground facility. Trust me. I've been to enough of them to know." Bucky grabbed the handle with his metal arm, then held up three fingers on his other hand, slowly counting down to 1. Once he put down the third finger, he ripped off the wooden handle, shattering the door in the process. Steve then followed him down the stairs, where they came upon a long hallway with several doors. The two men made their way down the hall, opening each door and taking care of anyone they found, Bucky with his arm and Steve with his shield. "Stark, found a bunch of computers and boxes that might interest you." Bucky was making his way down the left side of doors while Steve handled the doors along the right side of the hallway, finding similar items. They met in front of a doorway with a palm reader next to it. Bucky smashed it with his metal fist, and the door opened into another hallway, where the two Avengers repeated their actions from the prior hallway. The last door in the hallway opened, and a figure dressed in all black and carrying a whip exited. Before he'd even looked up, Bucky had snapped his neck. There was no way in hell he was going to allow HYDRA to take any of his friends. Bucky and Steve silently stepped into the open door, noticing another man off to the right. Steve assumed he was the ringleader as he wasn't dressed in black but a beige suit. The man had his back to them, and before he could turn around, Steve had him in a headlock.

"Where is he?"

"Hawkeye?"

Steve tightened his grip. "Yes. Where is he?"

The man's face was growing redder as Steve put pressure on his windpipe. "Cut off the head. Two more will follow," the man uttered as he bit down on a cyanide capsule. Steve threw him to the ground and turned to Bucky, following him through another door.

The two found Clint, unconscious and still hanging from the ceiling, blood running down his back. "Found him. He's alive," Steve said into his comm. "Tell Banner he'll need medical." Steve bent down and cut the ropes tied around Clint's ankles. Once Steve did that, Bucky lifted Clint and took him down from the hook, then Steve cut the ropes tying Clint's wrists. "We're headed back." Steve walked in front to ensure the trail was cleared for Bucky, behind Steve carrying a still-unconscious Clint.

"Stretcher's ready," Bruce said to the duo as they approached the plane. Bucky carried Clint up the ramp, and Bruce followed him into the plane.

"How's Mikayla?" Steve asked.

"Doc gave her something to sleep and something for pain," Natasha answered. "How in the hell could HYDRA be in our backyard, and we not know it?" She put up her hand. "Scratch that. I remember D.C."

"I don't think they were strictly HYDRA," Bucky said as he exited the jet. "Maybe one of them was, but the others were hired by HYDRA, recruiters." They heard whirring and looked up to see Tony landing. "Well?"

"Uploaded the data, torched the rest. How are the patients?"

"Mikayla's sleeping," Steve answered.

"Master Barton is still unconscious. Doctor Banner has treated his back and given him some antibiotics. He expects the Hawkeyes to make a full recovery. Am I to assume the enemies have been handled?" Thor looked over at Bucky, who nodded. "Good. The doctor said if we're done here, we can head back. I've already loaded the motorcycle onto the plane." The group made their way back up the ramp except for Natasha, who drove the car back to the tower. Everyone else sat down on the benches next to Clint and Mikayla. As Thor went to sit down, he noticed Mikayla had reached over and taken Clint's hand. He smiled, never ceasing to be amazed at the power of two souls in love.