I still do not own. And the next few chapters are going to focus on the budding friendships between Anora and the Avengers that are at the tower. This one focuses on Hawkeye. Enjoy!

"We all make mistakes, have struggles, and even regret things in our past. But you are not your mistakes, you are not your struggles, and you are here now with the power to shape your day and your future."

~ Steve Maraboli

They all had nightmares, visions of the things they wished they could take back or change when they closed their eyes in the dark. That was why Tony worked until he passed out from exhaustion in his lab. Why Bruce shut himself away with scientific equations and lab reports until he fell asleep reading them. Why Natasha physically exhausted herself before she even attempted to sleep. And why Clint would stay up half the night watching crappy infomercials until he couldn't keep his eyes open. But none of that stopped the nightmares and flashbacks. It didn't stop the horrors from play repeatedly behind their eyelids in the dark of the night. Tony saw that cave in Afghanistan, as clearly as if he were still there. Bruce saw the Hulk destroying and killing because he couldn't be controlled. Natasha's had her back in the Red Room. And Clint was back under Loki's control, hurting the people he had signed up to protect.

Even Anora was not exempt from night terrors, though most of her's were about that night her parents died, about their deaths and about the man who had let her and her brother go. She could hear his pained cries in her dreams, See the haunted look in his horrified eyes before they became blank and cold, and she couldn't help wondering when she woke up if she had done the right thing all those years ago. She couldn't get back to sleep after she dreamed of the pained masked man, so she wandered out of her room.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, Miss Williams?"

"Is anyone else up? Besides you and me, I mean."

"It appears that Agent Barton is on the common floor, Miss."

"Think he'd mind some company, JARV?" the young woman asked walking to the elevator.

"I believe it would be welcomed, Miss."

"Okie dokie. Thanks JARVIS." She pushed the button for the common floor, stifling a yawn.

Clint Barton looked up when he heard the elevator ding. A small smile flashed across his face, "Hey gorgeous. What are you doing up this time of night?"

"Hi, Clint. Couldn't sleep." She replied walking to the kitchen. He watched as she put on some water, probably for tea or hot chocolate. "What're you doing up, Arrows?"

His lips twitched at the nickname. "Same as you."

"Mmmm." She nodded, pulling out two mugs and packets of hot chocolate mix. "Wanna talk about it Hon?"

Clint shrugged. "Not really."

"Talking about it helps sometimes…"

"You wanna talk about yours?"

She poured water into the mugs, stirred them, and added whipped cream to the top. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours."

Anora handed him a mug. "Okay, you first."

She took a deep breath. "Alright."

Anora didn't know exactly where to start. But she figured her family was a good place. "You know my brother and I aren't exactly what people would call normal right?" Clint nodded. "Well, because we're mutants, well, some people wanted to use us, for their own agenda and, they sent people to, to take us, and kill Mum and Dad. They kill our parents, and we got away-" she broke off, remembering how terrible it had been, trying to force back the tears. "One of them came after us, he- he'd been ordered to take us back to his superiors. He made a different call, he let us go, I don't know why, but he did. It, it was like something clicked, like he was waking up from a dream or a nightmare, or something. He looked like he was in pain and he was fighting something, and I didn't know what to do, so I kind of dropped a tree branch on his head." She drew her knees to her chest, hugging them. "And now all I can see or hear is his eyes and his screams as he's being punished for helping us get away. And-" she completely lost control of her tears. Nora felt Clint pull her into a hug.

"Hey, It's not your fault. It's not. You couldn't have done anything. It's not your fault."

Clint felt his heart clench when Anora broke down. She'd been at the tower almost two months now, and he had never seen her cry, not once.

"Hey, It's not your fault." He said pulling her towards him, holding her against his chest. "It's not. You couldn't have done anything. It's not your fault." The archer kept holding her and whispering to her until she stopped shaking and her tears stopped.

"Your turn, Hawk." She sniffled, but didn't move away.

Clint sighed, a deal was a deal, and how could he say no to her after she'd just bared her heart to him. So, he told her about Loki. About how he'd been unmade and forced to shoot at Fury and hurt people, and how he'd almost killed Nat, and he couldn't stop his body and a large portion of his mind from doing what Loki Wanted, giving him what he'd wanted. How he hated himself for letting Loki compromise him. Hated himself for hurting the only people he cared about. Hated himself, because he should have been able to fight it, but he hadn't, he couldn't. He hated it.

"You should listen to your own advice, Hawk. It's not your fault. There was nothing you could have done, and it's not your fault."

"It feels like it is."

"I know, believe me I do, but it's not. If what happened to that man wasn't my fault, then what happened with Loki wasn't yours. It was out of your control. Besides, you didn't choose to do those things. It's our choices that define us. No one is fully good, or totally evil, we're all a mix of good and bad. It's our choices that make us heroes or villians."

He just shook his head. "I feel like a monster, sometimes because of what I did under his control."

"Clint Barton. Look at me." She sat back, and boy, did she look pissed off. "You are in no way a monster. You feel guilty and you feel remorse for what happened right? Well, monsters, real monsters, don't feel sorry for what they've done. They don't feel remorse and they don't feel guilt. That you do means you're not a monster. It means you're a good man, just like the call you made when you met Natasha means you're a good man. And the fact that just now, you let me get snot all over your shirt, in the middle of the night when you have your own worries proves that you are, in fact, a very good man. So don't you dare take the blame for something you couldn't control damnit!"

He gave her a teary smile. "Yes, ma'am."

She gave a curt nod before lunging forward and hugging him. "Good. Now, can we maybe watch a movie or something?"

The archer laughed. "Sure. What do you want to watch?"