because a reunion between them was too juicy to pass up.

The first thing Clint feels as he wakes is the combination of the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the breeze over his skin. His next breath tells him that he's in the country, because that crisp and fresh quality in the air isn't something you can find in a city. He opens his eyes slowly, finding a vibrant blue sky above him with a few fluffy clouds drifting seemingly aimlessly.

Leaves rustle nearby and he slides his gaze down to the trunk of the tree by his feet, finding an anchor point for the hammock he's apparently in. He eyes the tree for another moment, realizing it's familiar because he had planted it long ago with a then 3-year old Cooper.

The realization triggers a small rush of memories from over the years that coax a smile from him - afternoons spent playing in the treehouse with the kids, evenings spent curled up next to Laura in front of the fire pit after the kids had gone to bed, archery lessons with Lila, elaborate obstacle courses with Cooper, and long games of catch with Nate.

His eyes drift shut once more as more recent memories begin to surface.

He remembers Laura, with her eyes crinkling and beautiful smile spreading, holding his hand and kissing him gently. Then a whisper in his ear, and he can practically feel the warmth of her breath. "Give Nat a hug from me, okay?" She pulls back and then kisses him again. "I love you, Clint," she says softly, but with all the strength in the world, he thinks.

He remembers Lila, his little girl even if she isn't quite so little anymore, pressing a watery kiss to his cheek. "Don't worry about mom, okay? I'll make sure she's okay." A short silence grips them both as their gazes meet. "I love you, dad. I love you so, so much," she murmurs through her tears.

He remembers Cooper, who made him a father and changed his life forever, squeezing his hand. Like him, he's at a loss for words and stays silent. Their eyes meet, and Clint can feel the love from his gaze. He knows that his eyes are saying everything he can't put into words.

And he remembers Nate, the one who'd been a surprise but brought joy in a much needed time, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. "Thank you for...for everything. I love you."

And then he remembers drifting off.

He thinks of his family and feels a swell of pride. Not bad for a kid who ran away to the circus, he muses, a smile spreading across his face.

A pointed cough interrupts his thoughts and his head swivels toward the sound instantly. And then time feels like it comes to a complete standstill because it's Natasha standing in front of him.

Natasha, who he'd lost so many years before.

Natasha, who'd broken his heart asking him to let her go and reassuring him it was okay.

Natasha, who had saved everyone with her final act...but who had been saving him long before then too.

Natasha, who had fought so damn hard to give him his family back...but in doing so had given up her own.

Within a second of seeing her, he's scrambling to get out of the hammock, limbs fighting against the twisting rope frantically. Three seconds and he's standing upright. Five seconds and he feels the tears well in his eyes.

"Tasha?" he breathes out, still not quite believing but yet still daring to hope that it's really her. It had been so damn long since he lost her - a lifetime, really - and the sight of her reminds him of the ache in his heart that had taken root all those years ago. Laura was the love of his life, but Natasha had understood him on a level no one else could. They had been through so much together, and losing her had meant that he had lost a part of himself as well. The loss of her had devastated him, and it had taken a long, long time to come to terms with it.

Her eyes are watery, mirroring his own, and her expression is gentle, showing him a mixture of hope, reassurance, and relief. "Yeah," she rasps, and the tone is so familiar that he wants to cry right there and then. "It's me."

Ten seconds after he first sees her, he's throwing his arms around her and holding her tighter than he's ever held someone. He feels her reciprocate the gesture, and knows that like him, she's pouring everything she hasn't been able to say since that day into the embrace.

Worry flares in him even as he tries to reassure himself that she's not going to fade away or disappear on him. The nights in the weeks and months after her death had been filled with dreams and nightmares about her. They always ended with her fading from his view, leaving him reaching out for a hand that would never reach back.

"It's really you," he mumbles, pulling out of the embrace just far enough to hold her face in his hands for a moment before wrapping his arms back around her. "You're here. You're really here."

"More like you're here," she corrects, her tone bittersweet.

"I don't care where," he says firmly as they finally break apart. "You're here."

She smiles, and he sees the emotion plain as day on her face. As much as this reunion of theirs means to him, he can't even begin to imagine what it means to her. He'd gotten back his family and had decades with them, but she'd given up the only family she'd ever had.

"Well I guess this means I really did bite the dust, huh?" he quips, looking around at what he's surmised are the not-quite-earthly surroundings despite their familiar feel.

Some part of him wonders if he should be sad to have left behind his family. But he had lived a long life - far longer than he had ever thought possible for him, really - and had been ready at the end. It hadn't been a surprise, and he'd been given the chance to say goodbye to his family. His heart clenches suddenly as he realizes that's something Natasha never got.

"Don't be so flippant about it," she scolds, swatting at his arm even as a small smile curls on her lips betraying her façade. "But yes."

He grins unabashedly. "So this is the afterlife?"

"Yes and no. It's more of a place of transition."

His eyes widen as a thought takes hold. "Please tell me you haven't been stuck here all these years."

She smiles and shakes her head. "No, no, nothing like that," she reassures. "I managed to escape eternal damnation," she quips, her patented smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

He glares playfully, though there's a kernel of truth in it. "Now who's being flippant?"

Her glare back at him is more honest than playful and he holds up his hands in surrender, but he can't help the wide grin from spreading across his face. He's just so damn happy to see her.

"Souls come here to heal before they move on," she explains.

He glances down to catalogue anything that might need to heal, and instead realizes that he's much younger. He looks at her and notices that she looks roughly the same age as when she died. Her eyes are brighter though, he notices, and her hair is missing the swaths of blonde. Her shoulders don't look as though they're carrying the burden of a reddened ledger, and she looks more free than he can ever remember seeing her.

"I feel all right though," he says slowly, a frown creasing his brow.

"Maybe now," she answers with a small smile, "but the healing had already started before you woke up. In your case, you didn't have any traumatic injuries to recover from, so your healing process was a relatively smooth one."

His memories flick to the circumstances of her death. She had probably been left with a broken back, broken neck, and shattered skull, not to mention her limbs, and God only knows what internal injuries... "But yours wasn't, was it?"

She looks up at the sky, an unreadable expression on her face. "It wasn't so bad. I had Coulson to help me through it."

The lie is easy to spot, and he would've been able to spot it even without the years of espionage training. But whether she's allowing him to see it or the afterlife has cracked away her masks, he doesn't know.

He feels the old familiar squeeze of his heart caused by guilt he could never quite shake away entirely. "I'm sorry, Nat," he says sadly.

Her gaze drops and she reaches over and gives his hand a firm squeeze. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Clint."

His head shakes. "I-"

"Nothing," she repeats, interrupting him. "It was my choice, and I would make it again. You guys got everyone back, and you all got to live out your lives. That's all I wanted."

He looks at her sadly. "You were supposed to get to live your life too."

She offers a gentle smile. "I did live, Clint. Every moment after you made that call to spare my life. I did some good, tried to be a better person, and found myself a family. I did live."

Clint feels the tears spilling from his eyes. She had been robbed of the chance to live in a world she had put everything into saving. And yet, he realizes as he scrutinizes her expression and her posture, she seems at peace about it all.

A soft sigh slips from his lips as he wipes away the tears. If she could make peace with it, then maybe with time - a lot of time - he could too.

"So how's this place work? Pearly gates? When bells ring do you get wings? Do all dogs really go to heaven? Is there a stairway?"

She shakes her head and swats at him again. "Good to know you haven't changed a bit."

"Hey, those were legitimate questions," he protests, slipping into their easy banter, even after years apart.

"Well I'm not dignifying them with answers."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm your guide," she answers with a smirk.

"Guide?"

"Everyone gets a guide to help them heal and then lead them to the afterlife."

"You mean I could've had anyone who's dead, and I got you?" he teases playfully.

She rolls her eyes. "I knew I should have called in my favour with Coulson and made him do this."

"You love me too much to do that, Tasha," he retorts with a grin, bumping her shoulder with his own.

"Shut up, you idiot," she replies, bumping his shoulder right back.

They didn't stay much longer, as Clint's minimal injuries had healed quickly and he became antsy to move on. Natasha had led him to the afterlife but he hadn't quite been ready to let her out of his sight, and so they found themselves at the Barton farm lying on a blanket and staring up at the stars.

"I'm a grandfather. Or, was I guess."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He pauses, considering their situation. "Wait, shouldn't you know this? Don't you get observing privileges or something? Or is that not actually a thing?"

She is quiet for a moment before answering. "I watched some in the beginning. When I first got here, I mean. But…" she trails off, her gaze drifting away. She blows out a breath quickly. "It was overwhelming," she explains. "I could feel the emotions coming off of everyone in waves, and everything was still so fresh for me…"

Clint feels his heart clench as he understands. It had been too painful for her to see everyone alive.

"With time it got easier and I'd look in on you guys now and then. But once I knew you were safe, and starting to live again…"

"You stepped back," Clint finishes for her, understanding her reasoning exactly. She hadn't wanted to stay rooted in something she couldn't have anymore.

"Yeah. So I know some things...but definitely not everything."

"Well, let me catch you up then," he says. It comes out with a crack of emotion, despite his best efforts at keeping it light.

Her head tilts toward him and their gazes meet as a smile curls on her lips. "Please do."

"Right, well Cooper's an architect, and he's got two boys."

"I hope they inherited his mischievousness."

"You bet your ass they did," he replies with a laugh. "They keep him busy, that's for sure."

"A little taste of his own medicine," she replies as her smile widens.

Clint laughs again, remembering all the times Coop had tried to pull a fast one over Natasha. He'd never managed to succeed, but God help him he had certainly tried.

"And Lila?"

"She dabbled in some work for the new incarnation of SHIELD but ultimately ended up giving that up, and is a proud mom to a son and a daughter. And don't you worry, she got a taste of her own medicine too," he assures her, remembering all the times his daughter had managed to wear down the famed Black Widow with just a look.

Nat just smiles.

"She named her daughter after you," he says softly. His mind flickers to a memory of Lila handing him his granddaughter to hold, and telling him her name. His eyes had filled with tears at the gesture of love by his daughter for her aunt. "She told me later that as soon as she found out it was a girl she knew she was going to name her Natasha."

"I… I don't know what to say."

Clint reaches over and gives her hand a squeeze. "She loved you so much, Nat. We all did. Losing you…" he trails off and looks over to find her cheeks wet with tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"I don't think you get to apologize for saving the world."

Her laugh is brief, but his heart warms at the sound.

"God, I miss them," she breathes out. "I'm sorry I never got to see them grow up."

"Me too," he agrees, giving her hand another squeeze. Natasha had become a part of their family, and every time one of the kids hit a milestone, he felt a pang of sadness that she wasn't there to see it.

"It feels like just yesterday I was holding them as babies," she says wistfully.

"Believe me, I feel the same way."

He hears her let out a shaky breath. "And what about Nathaniel?"

"Ah yes, your first namesake. He's got 3 dogs. Says he has no interest in having kids, being an uncle is time consuming enough."

She barks out a laugh. "He's right about that. Being an aunt was exhausting."

"Oh, don't even start. You loved it."

"When they weren't puking on me, sure."

It's Clint who laughs this time.

"So you've got grandchildren and granddogs?" she teases.

"You're damn right, I do," he answers proudly.

She bumps his knee with hers. "Old man."

"That's not fair," he replies with a frown. "I can't even call you an old hag."

She laughs. "I guess dying had at least one perk - not having to deal with old age."

He frowns at her words. They are light and very much a part of their banter...but they also remind Clint again of what she'd given up.

"Hey." Her voice startles him out of his thoughts. He turns and finds her looking at him with the slightest of frowns. "Don't do that. I meant what I said - it was my choice and I would make it again. What I wanted was for everyone to get their loved ones back. For everyone to live their lives."

"Doesn't mean I can't be sad that you didn't get to be there."

"I suppose. But it's kind of a moot point now, isn't it?"

They fall into silence then, each content to just be with the other after so many years apart.

"Oh," he says suddenly. "I'm supposed to tell you how much Laura's missed you, and I'm supposed to give you a hug from her."

Nat smiles again wistfully. "I've missed her too. Getting to have her as a friend was almost worth putting up with you," she adds with a teasing grin.

He opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by another voice.

"I want to be very clear - practical jokes and/or pranks of any variety are strictly forbidden here."

Nat laughs and Clint sits up to find the source of the voice. His eyes widen at the sight of their old handler and close friend.

"Phil!"

"I mean it, Barton. Forbidden."

"Sounds like a rule that's more of a guideline to me."

"Natasha," Phil implores, "back me up here, would you?"

She holds up her hands. "Nope. I didn't wade into your ongoing war while we were alive and I'm definitely not going to now that we're dead. I am leaving you two to sort that out by yourselves."

Phil stares at her with a disappointed expression that she easily counters with a smirk.

Clint grins widely as he gives Phil a tight hug. "So, does this place have good pizza? And I mean proper so-greasy-it-is-the-foundation-of-instant-regrets pizza."

Phil shares a knowing smile with Natasha that Clint easily identifies as their 'typical Clint' expression. "I know a place," he says and then begins to walk towards the road.

Clint throws an arm around Natasha's shoulders as they begin to follow Phil. "God I've missed you, Nat," he says as he pulls her close to him.

"I missed you too," she says with a smirk before shoving him and laughing as he struggles to keep his balance.

Clint grins widely as a laugh bubbles out of him as well. Just as he goes in to shove her back, Phil's voice calls out from ahead of them.

"Don't start!"

Thoughts? Comments? Reviews always appreciated.