Amelia cracked open an eye when she felt someone gently shaking her shoulder, and blinked her eyes open at her father. "Hey, dad; long time no see," she murmured drowsily, slowly sitting up and yawning.

"Are you ready to go back to S.H.I.E.L.D.?" That woke Amelia right up. She sat up straighter and glanced up at Clint.

"Are you serious? I can go back?"

Clint smiled and ruffled her hair. "Sure can, Fury convinced the staff to release you."

Amelia grinned but then stated, "That's great and all, but I don't want to leave this room in a hospital gown, thank you." Slinging a bag off of his shoulder, Clint rested it on her bed.

"There are some of your clothes," he replied. Amelia slid off the bed gingerly, ignoring the pain from her chest, and grabbed the bag, heading out of the room to change in the bathroom.

As she headed across the hallway back to her room, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, the bag slung over a shoulder, stopped when she heard someone calling her name. Turning, she smiled and waved to Chris. "Hey, what's up?"

"The ceiling," he smirked, wheeling over to her. "Are you already going home?"

"More like to a different hospital," Amelia explained, and Chris nodded, understanding what she meant.

"Alright, get better," he replied.

"You too," Amelia spoke and grinned. "Hey, for once I'm taller than you."

Chris smirked, "Sorry, but that doesn't count since I'm technically sitting down." Amelia stuck her tongue out at him teasingly and watched him wheel back to his room before heading back to hers and to her father.

As the plane landed on S.H.I.E.L.D., which was a ship for now, Amelia was slightly pale and tense, but not as bad as before, shakily rising from her seat. "Glad to be back," she rasped, wincing from the pain.

"Are you alright?" Clint inquired, glancing at his daughter worriedly.

Amelia smiled up at him. "I'm fine, but I still hurt. Not fully healed. I just realized I have had to training at all." She sighed as she followed her father off of the plane. "I really need training, but I can't for a while once more." Clint chuckled and she protested, "It's true! Well, at least my parents are great instructors."

Once inside, Natasha rushed over, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"Better but I still hurt," Amelia replied. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

"Anytime," her mother replied, and walked along with her daughter and husband. "How was the flight?"

"The flight was well," Clint said. "And Amelia didn't act up as much."

"Yup," she chirped. "It wasn't as bad, but it still freaks me out."

"Good to hear," Natasha smiled at them. "Oh yes, Bruce wants to make sure your wounds aren't infected, Amelia."

"Okay!"

A few days later, Amelia sat on her bed, bored. Her mother insisted that she stayed in her room resting so her wounds would heal and nothing would be strained. Sighing, Amelia headed into her bathroom and rolled up the side of her shirt, holding it in her teeth as she unwrapped the bandage around her chest and peered at the gashes, pleased to see that they were scabbed over and weren't infected. She then rewrapped the bandage and released her shirt. Glancing up at the air vent, she smirked. Pulling herself up onto the bathroom counter, she pulled down the air vent, which was poorly put in, and heaved herself inside. "Time for some exploration," she muttered and crawled along.

Amelia crawled along in the air vent, stopping when she heard voices coming from the gym. Crawling along, she stopped and peered down, seeing her mother training with Agent Hill. Relaxing, she watched the two women fight, and she felt nervous for when it was her time to train with Natasha, knowing she would be proven how terrible her skills were.

"Why did you leave Amelia at the orphanage?" Amelia froze, breath catching in her throat as Hill asked the question, and for a moment Natasha stayed silent.

"It was for her safety," she slowly explained, still boxing with the agent. "Right after she was born, we were sent on a mission, and we knew we wouldn't be back anytime soon. We didn't tell any of you because it wouldn't be good to raise a child here. But when we found out Aaron was still out there, we couldn't go back to claim her for her safety. We never planned on having a child."

Hill dodged a blow and added, "And you thought she was going to hold you back?" The only reply was ashamed silence from Natasha. Amelia held back a strangled gasp and slid back, turning quickly and crawling off to get back to her room, tears blurring her gaze. I was a mistake…

Once back in her room, Amelia paced around, holding back her tears. Angrily, she stalked to the window and ripped down the black cover off, glaring out into the ocean. Never wanted. I was a mistake. Those two sentences bounced around in her head and she balled the cloth, tossing it across the room angrily, choking back a sob.

She froze when she heard a knock on the door and a soft voice call her name. When Amelia didn't answer, the door cracked open and she turned to Natasha, eyes narrowed. "Amelia, what's wrong?"

Amelia turned her head away, shoulders shaking. "Oh, come to talk to your mistake, I see."

"What makes you say that?" Natasha asked, voice sharp from surprise and slight anger.

She wheeled around to face the spy, hurt and angry. "I heard what you said to Agent Hill," she snapped. "You can't keep me in this room forever. I wondered why you were always insistent to keep me in here, and I believed it was because you were worried I was still injured, but that was a lie. You couldn't bear looking at your mistake all day!" Amelia was aware she was probably being too irrational and angry, traits she received from Clint, but she was hurt.

Natasha stared at her, startled. "You know that's not true. Yes, we weren't planning on having you, but that doesn't mean you're a mistake."

Amelia sat down at the foot of her bed, shaking. "How can I be sure that's the truth?" She cried shakily, burying her head in her hands. "You don't know what happened to me, and if…" she shook as she started to cry, Natasha sitting down next to her and wrapping her arms around Amelia. "I know they told you that I always denied you and Clint were my parents, and they're right! I denied it because I thought you left me at the orphanage because you knew I was going to get in the way and fail you! Frederick and Victoria were always there for me, and look what happened! Frederick died and Victoria changed. When I was proven that you were my mother and Clint was my father, I was afraid. I was called a spy, but it was never a compliment, and I was deemed an assassin when Frederick died because I made him tea the day before he fell ill."

Her body shook as she started sobbing; her wall that she had built from everything that had gone wrong broke down. When Amelia was broken, she never truly healed; in fact she never healed at all. It was all an act that she put up, holding back the broken pieces. "I can't even trust what I feel anymore. How can I trust that I was never a mistake?"

"If I believed you were a mistake, do you think I would care about you? Or that Clint would care about you?" Amelia stayed silent but continued to break down, allowing her mother to comfort her. Perhaps Amelia would finally be able to pull away from her hurt and keep moving along.