I will not be able to respond to any comments after Tuesday or post chapters for the next 3 weeks because I go one a vacation trip for the first time in 26 years and I do not know if I will have internet.

Chapter 2

Clint had noticed the two men, who were following him, very early on. However, since they hold a generous distance to him and did nothing to stop him, he ignored them. The only thing that struck him as weird was that they burned the bodies he left behind.

So far, however, they had never followed him when he entered a bar to drink. But this time one of the men followed him in and sat next to him at the bar and ordered a beer, which he got at once and after he took a generous sip from the bottle he put it down again.

Clint looked at him out of the corner of his eye. He was maybe 40 years old, a little rough looking, and his hands, which he had now laid flat on the counter, looked as if he was familiar with hard work. At the same time, he radiated something that screamed danger to Clint.

"Can I buy you a beer?" The man asked softly, hands still clearly visible on the counter.

"Why not? To be honest, I'm a little curious about the reason you and your friend follow me all the time."

"Our boss keeps an eye on the remaining Avengers and he has asked us to follow you discreetly. By the way, my respect! You are one of the few superheroes who still help and protect the defenceless."

"Why do you burn the bodies?" Clint ignored the remark and asked the question, which had bothered him from the start.

"This is how we prevent them from coming back as ghosts", the man replied with a shrug.

"Ghosts?" Clint asked incredulously.

"Let me put it this way, there are far stranger things between heaven and earth than aliens." The man had now turned to Clint and grinned at him, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Clint recognized a fellow soldier, who had fought in more than one war, in them. And there was this lost look, Clint had seen in many eyes since the blip but there was even more in there, something haunted. "Why are you contacting me now? So far, your friend and you have kept your distance."

"Would you be interested in undoing the past 5 years and bring the dead back?" The man asked softly.

"I find this not especially funny", Clint growled threateningly.

"It isn't meant to be, I'm dead serious. The boss has a plan and he wants to meet you in person to talk with you. And believe me, this man doesn't make empty promises.

I will not say that the chances are good and that everything will be going without problems but there is a chance. And believe me, my associates and me would give our lives to undo the last 5 years."

Clint stared into the man's eyes. The man squirmed a little, but held his gaze, which was no small feat. More importantly, he believed what he said.

"Is your boss in town?" Clint asked abruptly.

"Yes, more precisely he is sitting in the back corner where he can see both exits."

Clint remembered the man who had occupied his favourite table. Younger than the man next to him, blond, muscular with the looks of a photo model. "This is your boss?"

"I wouldn't underestimate him, but your reaction is pretty normal." The man looked pleased. "His appearance is very deceptive."

"Are you going to sit with us?"

"No, the boss doesn't want you to feel cornered. I will go after I finish drinking my beer."

"So your boss doesn't need a bodyguard?" Clint asked amused.

The man laughed. "No, he can take care of himself. By the way, my name is Ben." He reached his hand out and Clint shook it.

"Thanks for the beer, Ben."

Ben finished his drink and left the pub as promised. Clint took his beer and went to the table where the man had risen. He was 1.80 m tall and somehow he had a charisma, which reminded Clint of Steve.

"Dean Winchester. It is an honour for me to finally meet you." Dean held out his hand.

Clint took it. "Clint Barton, but I assume you know that."

The man grinned and looked even more boyish for a moment.

"I'm a big fan of yours, like most hunters are. However, I was already before all this an admirer of you and the Black Widow. Do you want to sit down?" Dean sat in the place of the bench where the view of the exits was a little more restricted.

Clint sat in the place Dean had cleared for him. Apparently, he really wanted to talk to him on equal terms. Then he looked Dean straight in the eyes and stopped. The last time he saw such old and tortured eyes was when he made a different call by Natasha. This kid had been through hell more than once and suddenly Clint believed Ben when he said that Dean's looks were misleading and nobody should underestimate him.

"What is a hunter and do you do?"

"We hunt monsters like vampires, demons, ghosts and everything else, which preys on humans to eat or kill them."

Clint choked on his beer. "Come again?" he asked faintly.

Dean smirked but there was no joy in it. "You heard right. The monsters have come out to play and it gets worse with every day. My men and I fight a losing battle. Too many hunters were killed in the blip, which I don't believe was a coincidence. Our only chance is to undo the last five years or I guarantee you, in twenty years humans are an endangered species."

"I don't believe in the supernatural or in monsters."

Dean laughed humourless. "Good for you, I unfortunately don't have that luxury anymore."

Clint tapped with his fingers on the table. The thing was, he could read people and his gut told him that Dean was speaking the truth. "Let's ignore the possibility of monsters for the moment. What is your plan?"

"We have a supernatural way to travel back in time which bypass all the annoying restrictions who are valid when you time travel with earthly or technological means. My problem is that our enemies are a little different and the methods with which we fight them are not applicable to Thanos or aliens. For that we need the Avengers or rather what is left of them. However, why should they believe, listen or speak to us?" Dean looked annoyed. "I know that my story is hard to digest."

"You need someone to speak for you, to make contact with the Avengers", Clint realized.

"Yes. All other Avengers have withdrawn from the people who they should protect. They see the big picture, but they don't care about the little people anymore. I already tried to make contact with them but I had no luck so far. You are the only Avenger who is still approachable and in the mud with us ordinary people."

Dean looked uncomfortable. "Don't misunderstand me, I don't blame the Avengers for their retreat, after all, they are still trying to help in some ways." Dean scoffed contemptuous. "Not like Tony Stark, that coward, who plays family with Miss Potts and his daughter. He lives well and in comfort while people around him suffer and die. He has more money than he could ever spend and he does nothing with it for other people. No, you are my last hope."

Clint winced. "I kill criminals; I don't think that my word has much sway anymore with the Avengers."

"I don't care. All hunters do it when we catch murderers or rapists red-handed in our hunts. We make sure that they never can hurt anyone ever again." Dean laughed grimly. "Will you help us?"

"How can I say 'no' to this", answered Clint and his heart hurt at the small chance to see his family again.