Laura came down the staircase, having tucked Cooper and Lila in for the night. She glanced at the clock, listened to the empty house around her and sighed.

Slipping on a pair of sandals, she went out the backdoor, crossed the yard in the gloom, and entered the barn.

Clint was exactly where she'd expected to find him: where he'd spent the past two evenings. He was sitting up on the haystacks, a bottle of whiskey at his side, a half empty glass in his hand, staring out, she hoped looking at nothing, she suspected he was looking at his past.

He heard her footsteps. It was dark in the barn. There was only one light on and it was some distance from where he sat, but she could make out a wry, twisted smile as he saw her.

"I thought I'd find you in here," she said, trying to keep her voice light. She crossed over to the haystacks.

He hesitated a moment and then, setting down the glass leaned over to give her a hand and help her up.

Once she was beside him, he picked the glass up again. She settled in beside him, her shoulder nestled against his.

"The kids are in bed you know," she said, watching him take a drink, "you could come drink inside."

"They might come down for something…I…" –don't want them to see me like this, she finished in her head for him. He sat in silence for a moment. "I guess I haven't been a very good father lately."

"The kids understand that you are having a hard time. They don't understand exactly why, but they know you're in pain. And they just want you to be okay."

He rubbed his hand across his face then nodded at the glass in his hand. "This is becoming a problem isn't it?"

She hesitated. "Not yet. But it could become one."

He nodded. "I know."

She held out a hand. He handed over the glass. She took a sip. She handed it back.

"Why are you out here drinking alone?" she asked.

He let out a snort. "You really need me to answer that?"

"Yes, I think I do."

She studied his face, watching him as his jaw worked, as he grappled with himself. "I guess because it makes me hate being in my own head marginally less. Until the next morning, when I hate it marginally more. I know I'm failing Laura. I know I've been given a chance to be here for you and the kids, and I'm throwing it away. But-." He snapped his jaw shut.

"But what?" He shook his head, but she persisted. "But what Clint? Please. I have a right to know what's going on up there," she said, tapping his forehead gently.

"I just hate myself more, the more time I spend with all of you," he said flatly.

"I see."

"The kids, they're too young to really understand what I did. But you? I don't see how you can forgive me."

"You want me not to forgive you? You want me to punish you so that you don't have to punish yourself?" she said slowly.

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"Clint, you know it doesn't work that way." She sighed and shifted around, so that she was facing him. "Look, if you need to hear this here it is: yes, I was upset. I was hurt. I was hurt that you kept this from me all these years. I was more hurt by you then I ever thought I could be. But you are already hurting so much, I didn't want to lay that on you too. And I still don't. I love you and maybe I'm a bit bruised but bruises heal. Look, do you remember when there was that family living next farm over? The one with that kid?"

"Monster Kid?"

She chuckled. "Yes. Monster Kid. Remember when he pushed Lila down, and so Cooper just went at him, fists flying, protecting his sister? You told him how proud you were of him, right?"

"Yes."

"You told him he was a hero."

"I remember."

"And you remember that other time, when Cooper took the keys to the tractor cause he wanted to drive it and show off to his friends, even after we've told him a thousand times, to stay away from the farm machines when we're not around."

Clint nodded. "Yeah."

"You were really angry. You told him how he could have hurt himself badly, or one of his friends. He was grounded for a week. Later you found him crying in his room, and he asked you if you still loved him, and what did you say?"

"I said of course I still loved him…I said there was nothing he could do that could make me ever stop loving him."

She smiled. "Exactly. It's true for Cooper. And it's true for me and you."

"Laura: Cooper didn't kill anyone. He didn't betray everyone who's important in his life."

"Would you stop loving him if he did?"

"No."

"Well then, like father like son."

"I wish I deserved you."

She smiled and said playfully, "You know what Nat would say: you never did. Even as an Avenger."

He chuckled. "Yeah, Nat did say that. A lot."

"Usually after eating some of my popovers though. So you could argue she was under the influence."

There was a pause. "I really miss Nat."

"I know. The kids do too."

"Yeah…Lila asked me yesterday if Aunt Nat would be visiting soon. I had to tell her, I didn't think she'd be around for a while. Cause I couldn't bear breaking the news that she'd probably never be around again."

"Good. Because it would have been a lie. Nat will come by again. I know it."

Clint shook his head. "I don't think so. I hurt Laura, I hurt her really badly."

"But she knows you. Just like I do. Everyone makes mistakes. But you always make them right. You're a good man Clint Barton. I just hope you can believe it again."

Bruce pulled of his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He was bloody tired. But it wasn't the recent workload he'd been taking on down in the lab or the late nights he'd been spending reading late into the night, that was exhausting him.

It was the tension.

The whole tower was tense. Everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells. Or not bothering to walk around at all.

He hadn't seen Steve around for the past week. Nat was in the gym or the gun range if she was around. Thor was practically moved in with Jane at this point. Bruce saw the most of Tony since they shared a lab, but that was its only special kind of exhausting. Tony was manic if anything. Eager to dive into anything, anything of course except the topic that might have done any good to discuss.

The only person in the tower who wasn't exhausting to bump into was Pepper. Because she would at least bloody talk about it rather than sweep it under the rug.

At the end of the day that was the problem.

No one would talk about it. But they were all grieving. At the end of the day each and every one of them was fractured. They came from fractured homes, fractured countries, fractured pasts, fractured lives. The Avengers had been a family. It was, Bruce admitted, clichéd. But it was a fact. The Avengers were important to them all. And they'd lost one of their own. Not in some heroic sacrifice, a battle of life and death, but to an act of betrayal. Bruce wondered if he was the only one who thought that was the better alternative all things considered.

That first night after Clint had left, Bruce had sat in his room, resisting with every ounce of will power he possessed the temptation to Hulk out, and he had thought about it.

He had imagined what it would have like if Clint had died instead. If that was how they'd lost him. What if they'd had to bury him? What if there hadn't been enough left to bury?

And suddenly he realized he was glad Clint wasn't dead. Sure, the lies still hurt, but he was glad it wasn't worse. Now if only the others would realize that. They might need time to process, but it didn't have to be the end?

Laura picked up the laundry basket and headed upstairs. She was passing the door of her and Clint's bedroom when movement inside made her stop. She did a double take, slowly set the laundry basket down and moved towards the door, leaning against the door-frame.

Clint was standing over their bed. He was dressed in one of his Hawkeye uniforms. There was a duffel bag packed, and the case for this bow opened in front of him. The bow was in his hand and he was holding it up, aiming down the sights.

A strange mixture of emotions washed over Laura: a sense of loss, but also pride; an overwhelming, heart bursting sense of pride and love.

"Well me and my big mouth," she murmured, "I finally have you here full time and I have to go and remind you who you are."

He started and turned. Lowering his bow he looked at her with picture of pleading and determination.

"I have to," he said, "I have to make it right."

She smiled and entered the room, moving towards him, "I know. Believe me, I know the man I married." She kissed him and then, wrapping her arms around him, leaned into him. "But promise me, you won't get yourself killed. You'll be on your own out there. Don't do anything stupid."

He laughed. "I promise." He set the bow down on the bed and wrapped his arms around her.

And it felt good. For the first time since he'd come home, she could feel the tension had left his body. He was her Clint again. And if that meant he had to go away once more, that was a price she was willing to pay.