Thank you to DarylDixon'sLover for submitting this request!

A refreshing Sunday breeze ruffled Clint's hair as he helped Lila knock her arrow. Ever since she snooped in the secret compartment in the garage (supposedly looking for some paints, he doesn't remember) and stumbling onto his extra bow, she badgered him nonstop about learning archery. Clint opposed at first, of course. Who the hell teaches their kid how to use a weapon? Especially as a retired spy and SHIELD agent.

But soon he had found her trying to actually use his bow (goddamn did that give him a heart attack - he had high blood pressure for the next few days after that), he agreed to make one for herself and teach her, as long as she didn't tell her brothers what she had found.

Lila was a lot of things, and trustworthy was definitely one of them. A couple months later, and not a peep about what she had found in the garage.

Clint had dug up an old target for Lila and making her a wooden recurve bow (hell if he had to learn how to shoot with a recurve bow before a compound, so was she), three to four times a week she was out shooting with him. He wasn't gonna lie, every time she hit the target, he felt pride swell in his chest. Along with some anxiety of course. But people do archery as a hobby all the time. Yeah, he'd keep telling himself that.

He was brought out of his recollection when Laura asked for mayo or mustard on their hot dogs. He mentally face palmed - for some reason Cooper suddenly acquired a burning hatred towards ketchup, and wouldn't stand to have it anywhere near him.

Lila relaxed her stance for a moment, clearly confused. "Who wants mayo on a hot dog?"

Clint sighed, "Your brother," before requesting two mustards.

Refocusing, Lila pulled up her bow to aim at the target.

Checking on her elbow, he helped straighten it and reposition her hand so the bow string wouldn't graze her cheek. He was gonna have to do something to fix that darn elbow of hers. It was gonna fly away just like the arrow in her hands.

Lila concentrated, then exhaled before shooting.

Bullseye.

Clint berated himself for grinning so widely.

"Great shot, Hawkeye," he complimented, giving her a well-deserved high-five. Lila giggled before going to retrieve the arrow.

God, he hoped what he was doing was right. The last thing he wanted was for Lila, or anyone in his family, to be involved in spy work. He'd die before he'd let that happen. Sure, it was just shooting arrows today, but what if someone from work spotted her? He wouldn't be able to bear it if that had happened.

Maybe he could convince her to try another hobby instead. Why couldn't she just play basketball, or tennis?

His mission-trained ears suddenly didn't hear any footsteps. In fact, he didn't hear anything. Clint's brow furrowed, confused. It's not like it took long to retrieve the arrow, nor did she miss the target.

"Lila?" he called, checking around the tree. Nothing but some dust in the wind.

Maintaining his breathing to stave off hyperventilating, he called out louder.

"Come on guys, this isn't funny!"

No. No way this was happening. Fury swore that no one could find them.

He called out for the boys. He called out for Laura. Glancing over at the picnic table, he saw two hot dogs with mustard, and one hot dog on the ground.

Feeling the control on his breathing slowly unraveling, he screamed louder and louder for them. Hot tears began to sting.

Was this because he had gone to Germany? He had already agreed to be on house arrest with the FBI. He hadn't broken any laws. But even if it was because of that, he would have gotten punishment. There was no reason for the government to even touch his family. What was going on?

Dozens of questions flew through his head as he checked the woods. No blood, no clothes, nothing suspicious.

Whirling around, he saw it.

Nothing.

Nothing but field, sky, and his home.

And with that, the hyperventilation started. His vision blurred, and he felt dizzy. Falling onto his knees, he felt the rest of the tears falling onto the ground.

Gasping for air like he had just been tortured, he gave himself a moment to gather himself. Tears weren't going to find out where his family went.

But he knew someone who could.

Struggling to stand, he stumbled towards the picnic table where he had left his phone. Choking out his last few sobs, he cleared his voice before dialing the emergency number that Fury had given him.

With each long dial tone, he felt as if his family was slipping further and further away. He felt idiotic as he was waiting for Fury to pick up his damn phone, instead of trying to track them down. They couldn't have gotten far. There was no back up in the air, it had been way too quiet. But there was no sign of a struggle, aside from the dropped hot dog. No tracks, no trace, no—

"Hello?" a shaky voice finally broke the monotonous dial tone.

It took him a second to process the voice that was not Fury. "I—Wha—Hill?"

"Barton?" Maria Hill confirmed, obviously in disarray.

"Yeah—wha—where's Fury? Look something happened here, Laura and the kids—"

"Oh god," the agent cut him off, dread weighing down her voice.

"What? What's happening? Who took—" Clint was ready to break his phone, he was overwhelmed with emotion. He used his other hand to steady his shaking one as he listened to Maria talk.

"Barton, look. I'm not sure what exactly happened, but…Fury…Fury's dead."

"Ok, so where is he now?" Clint knew the man had "died" multiple times. He was always taken to another location, always back on his feet sooner than later.

"No, Clint—" his mind was in disbelief when he heard her choke down a sob "He's dead. I saw him…I saw him turn to dust. In front of my eyes. Oh god…"

Mind running a hundred miles a minute, he tried to mentally process her statement as she cleared her voice from tears.

"D-dust?" he clarified, feeling his stomach starting to drop.

She sniffed. "Yeah, and not just him. Almost…almost a third to a half of the people I saw on the road here just…turned to dust."

This made no sense. Zip, zilch, zero. People don't just turn to dust. This…

"I'm gonna call Cap."

"You think he knows what's going on?" Hill asked. She probably knew he had a way to reconnect with the fugitive.

"I don't know. But this doesn't sound like any human's doing. It…It sounds like Avengers work. Or at least, something to do with them. I dunno, I'm following my gut. Hill…I'll keep you posted. I'll call you on your cell when I get answers."

There was a brief pause before she spoke. "Alright. I'm going to report back to the SHIELD HQ. Thank you, Clint."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Catch you in a bit."

"Yeah."

He numbly tapped the red button to hang up the call before running to the house to get the burner phone.

Tracking mud and dead grass in the house, he dug up the phone in a secret compartment in the nightstand by the bed. A single number was in the contacts section.

He called it. And after what seemed like hours of listening, arguing, and screaming, he learned of what happened not just on Earth, but in the entire universe.

Fun fact, I cut my hair like Clint's in Endgame for the premiere. Unfortunately it was too short to be exactly like his, but it's still a mohawk!

As always, requests are open.