He's drifting now. He feels nothing. No pain, no anxiety, the darkness only a distant memory. He's waiting for something. Death, he thinks, but it doesn't matter.

And then something shatters the peaceful quiet.

I…love…you.

He gravitates towards the sound, because something deep inside him responds to it. It does something to him, makes him want to shake off the lethargy. He listens with his whole being, waiting.

Come back to me, it whispers, and it's more powerful than whatever's waiting for him on the other side of the nothing. Come back to me, Clint. I was wrong. I love you.

I love you.

She loves him.

The pain opens up like a red-hot chasm, bringing with it a painful light. This is what happens if you fight, a mocking voice informed him. It will be hard, too hard.

And for a moment he glances back into the peaceful void.

But her voice is stronger.

I love you, Clint. Come back.

And Clint makes his choice.