Oh my goodness! I've been so busy with this story the past couple of days. College classes start on Monday and I've been working frantically to get most of the rough draft for this story written down before then. I'm almost done, but I've still got more left to write. And then comes the final draft. Sometimes I wish I just didn't have school, you know?

Just a forewarning that my chapters might be farther between. If I didn't have school, it wouldn't be so bad, but I have two writing-intensive courses this semester, so I promise that I haven't given up on this story. Hang in there, guys. Also, thank you all for your awesome reviews! You all are AMAZING!

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Steve had gone to bed for the night, but I knew I wasn't going to catch one wink of sleep. The thought of my uncle sneaking into Steve's room and pounding him to bits was an all too real possibility. I hoped Steve had barricaded his room-or at least set some booby traps to catch my uncle if he tried to sneak into his room.

He's never going to go for this, I thought to myself. He'd kill Steve before he'd even think about us dating.

I tossed and turned for hours that night. I'd sleep an hour and then I'd be up the next. I tried to walk it off by pacing around my room, but I only flopped back on the bed, just as restless as I had been before.

"Sleep." I commanded myself aloud. "Go to sleep."

After about fifteen minutes, that tactic proved as useless as the pacing.

I looked for the millionth time at the clock, only for it to read a dismal 2:47. I buried my face in the pillows, hoping that somehow I'd magically fall asleep.

Forget it, I thought thirty minutes later. I strolled into the elevator in my PJ's, in desperate need for a change of scenery. I mindlessly pressed a button, the machine shifting downwards to some unknown destination.

"Is everything alright, Ms. Barton?"

JARVIS surprised me by calling me by my last name instead of ma'am for once in a long time. I leaned against the wall, looking up to where I'd figure he'd be, although his location was technically everywhere in this building.

"You don't happen to know anything about relationships, do you JARVIS?"

It was by pure whimsy that I'd ask him such a question. It would have been awkward knocking on Tony and Pepper's door that night, asking them about my little love problem while they were half-asleep themselves. Tony had programmed the A.I. Maybe he had actually done something useful and put a little love advice in JARVIS' vast, complex computer system.

However, my hopes were immediately shattered when he replied, "I'm a machine. It's not in my programming."

I sighed.

So much for that idea.

The doors opened to reveal the gym. I probably had pressed the button out of sheer habit. And in the gym hung the same punching bag. I'm glad it was there, because I was in the mood to let off some steam.

I started out slow. A few punches from the left, a few from the right. But they were followed by a gradual procession of combos. Thoughts started to enter my mind; thoughts of my uncle and all that had happened yesterday morning.

Bam! The bag flew away from me, helplessly swinging back into another punch.

The way he had taken multiple swings at Steve and tried to make him an attack dummy.

Wham! The sound became music as my fists started to pound the heap of sand.

And the pain in his eyes when he looked at me. He had broken my heart when I saw the disappointment in his face; like I was traitor.

I could barely feel my arms anymore with each pound of my fists. I could feel droplets of sweat start to pour down the side of my face, and it only made me want to pound the bag harder.

"I see you've become quite attached to that punching bag." I caught the bag and swung around to find my uncle sitting in the bleachers nonchalantly.

"How long have you been sitting there?"

"Awhile."

Figures.

He was silent for a moment, twiddling his fingers and looking at me; something he did often when he was deeply pondering something. As the seconds passed and he continued the Barton-trademark silence, I started to give up on him even talking at all. I cast him an annoyed glance before turning back to my punching bag. I was about three punches in when his hands grasped the bag in front of me.

"Stop." He commanded. I turned toward him, only to be knocked on my bum.

"What did you do that for?" I screeched as I quickly pulled myself up.

Has he gone insane?

"I want to see if Cap's training is paying off." He answered.

Without another word, he dove in for another tear at me. I dodged him, remembering his slowness in basketball.

"Shouldn't we be...I don't know...using boxing gloves or something?" He had turned himself around and was poised to lunge again.

"HYDRA's not going to come at you with boxing gloves, Hannah." He warned as barreled me onto the floor. His hands pinned down my arms, about a foots length in-between my body and his. I was trapped.

Steve hadn't exactly started to teach me any full-body fighting techniques yet. And all the strength in my body couldn't amount to even half of the strength in his.

There's got to be something that you can do to him.

What were those main areas that my self-defense class had taught me about weak spots again? Let's see...the groin (I don't think my uncle would appreciate that), the eyes (now there's a thought) and the nose (perfect).

I started struggling against him, trying to squirm my way out under him. He quickly retaliated, forcing his full weight to keep me on the floor. While he was focused on keeping my arms down, I pulled my leg up and kicked him in the gut. My arm loosened out of his weakened grip and, without a second thought, I socked him in the nose.

He groaned, hand clutching his nose that now started to leak a few droplets of blood. To my surprise, he started to smile.

"Now that's what I'm talking about." He exclaimed.

"You want me to punch you?" I asked in disbelief.

"You've got to practice on someone. Might as well be me."

He tilted his head back, trying to clog up the blood flow that had already made quite a mess on the floor.

"I'll go get you a rag."

I returned to find him sitting on the bleachers, his nose still pinched tightly between his thumb and forefinger. Dummy had arrived, cleaning up the blood. I handed him the rag and he took it.

"Thanks." He said in that funny voice that you get when you pinch your nose.

"No problem."

He tilted his head back and leaned against the bleacher behind him, his eyes closed. I mimicked his pose, trying to give him the time he needed to form the words he needed to say. You didn't think I forgot about our little argument, did you?

"I'm sorry." He finally admitted. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

"Why did you do it?"

He squinted his already closed eyes. "I didn't want to let go."

"Let go of what?"

"You." He answered.

"Me?"

He opened his eyes and looked at me seriously, the blood stopped completely now. "Yes, you."

"Uncle Clint, it's not like I'm leaving you." I wanted to laugh at this whole conversation and its ridiculousness, but I held my tongue.

His expression turned from serious to pained.

Had I missed something? I hadn't tried to make him feel like I was deserting him. My time had become more devoted to being around Steve. Had I made him jealous?

"You've grown up on me, kid." He said the old nickname like it had rotted in his mouth. He hunched over now, his hands clasped together and his eyes on the ground. "And you're not a kid anymore."

"Uncle Clint..."

"I forget that you're twenty-two." He replied as he placed his hand on mine. "You're about to graduate college, and now you're starting to date. I...I suddenly realized that you're drifting farther and farther away from me."

I didn't know what to say or how to feel. The last four years had gone by so fast-and I couldn't turn back time and make everything as it was.

"I didn't mean to get mad at you or at Steve. I just didn't want to lose you." He was ashamed now, barely even able to turn and face me.

"You're not going to lose me," I promised him. I placed my slender fingers in his calloused hands, long worn by countless missions, some dating back to long ago. "Dad."

He didn't have to be my biological father to be called my dad. Since day one, he had always been there for me like Dad would have been if he hadn't passed. Nat had become the mom I had lost when I was thirteen. I needed them just as much as they needed me.

He shifted back against the bleachers, his hand still held in mine. The tension was gone, as if yesterday had never occurred. That being said, I started to lull off to sleep.

But I was interrupted when my uncle said, "Does that mean I get to pull out a shotgun on Steve when he takes you out on a date?"

I groaned.

"You both are funny!" Two little voices suddenly giggled over the intercom system. "Whack Daddy again, Auntie Hannie!"

Uncle Clint and I looked at each other in confusion and dismay.

"Kids, what are you both doing in the security camera room? You're supposed to be in bed!"

"But we always come up here to watch you play!" Barney's voice responded before his sister reprimanded him over the line.

"Don't tell dem dat! They don't know dat!"

And that's why the twins are permanently banned from the security camera room.

And that's how the twins have been spying on everyone! They're just that good. Thank you everyone for reading!