The train lurched forward as it pulled away from the station at an unholy hour. Clint pulled his coat tighter around himself, shivering in the air's frosty clutch. His forge kept his house warm year round so winter wear wasn't a high priority for him, though he might prioritize it after this trip. He wished he'd brought his hat and mittens now, but he'd have to deal with it. Breathing hot air between his palms he rubbed them together before rubbing them up and down his face. A little better.

He closed his eyes hoping to get some more sleep, but his mind was racing too much. He pulled out his phone again, but there was still nothing. Not surprising really, his dad slept as much as possible still. The chemo and radiation had taken their toll on Frank; it was a common conversation between the men if the procedures were ultimately worth it. Clint sighed heavily, he supposed they would find out the answer to that question soon enough.

Nearly three years ago his dad had been diagnosed with cancer, and while they were waiting for surgery it spread, quickly, to other areas of his body necessitating chemotherapy and eventually radiation. It had been a long process with more than one relapse. The physical, mental, and emotional toll it had taken on his dad had been immense, but certainly significant on himself as well. Clint sent all his extra money home to help with expenses. Well, aside from that one mortifying experience with Emily, but he shoved that back to the dark recesses of his mind. He sent most of his money home, but that meant he hadn't taken any time off in a couple years now.

It was time, he'd decided, and closed up shop for the holiday season to spend it with his father. A full month off would make finances tight for a while but in the end it would be worth it. Frank had an appointment this week to check and see if he was cancer free and the results should be in before Clint went back to the valley. He told Clint a few weeks ago he wouldn't be going through any more treatments, regardless of the results; Clint had tried to reason with him for a short while, but he eventually had to accept that it wasn't his decision, one of the most difficult truths of his life so far. Shaking his head to clear his morbid thoughts he rubbed his arms once again, the cold air relentless in its pursuit to chill him.

"Clint! Hurry up! We're going to be late for our reservation!"

"Dad, it's just lunch at Dinah's, she doesn't even take reservations," Clint hollered back as he finished combing his hair and beard.

"Yeah but you know she's got a soft spot for you and has been on my case about getting you there since you came home, she told me she'd save us a table today. You're special to her and you know it!" Frank's reply was insistent and Clint hurried out of his room to avoid distressing him further.

"I'm right here Dad, it's alright. Let's get going," he said, wrapping an arm around his dad's frail shoulders with a gentle squeeze. He was heading home tomorrow and this was their last planned trip out. Dinah was his dad's cousin, the closest thing Clint had to a mother,and she owned the best restaurant Clint had ever been to, though he would never tell Gus that.

The men had spent the past four weeks catching up on all the things they loved to do together, the conversation always flowing easily between them. Now however, silence descended over them as they drove to Dinah's and the tension was thick, caused by a lack of answers. It had been weeks and they still hadn't learned what the test results were. Calling hadn't gotten them anywhere and there were no notes in his online chart. Clint left tomorrow and his stomach twisted itself into knots at the idea of his dad receiving bad news and not being there to support him through it.

Entering Dinah's was like a scene from Cheers , everyone there knew his dad and shouts of "Frank!" filled the air. Sure enough Dinah had reserved a table for them, and she knew their orders well enough to place them before they even sat down. It was comforting being back here, even if the reason wasn't the best. Just as Dinah was delivering their meals Frank's phone rang.

He looked up at Clint, the color draining from his face. A deafening silence filled the diner, everybody seeming to understand the significance of this moment. Clint forced himself to swallow his fear and nodded to his dad to answer the call, the knots in his stomach tightening to an uncomfortable mass. He watched as his dad nodded silently, grunting a response here and there, and then as tears welled in his eyes. Nobody spoke and Clint waited with baited breath as Frank ended the call and took a moment to himself. Finally he looked up at Clint, a smile splitting his face while tears streamed down his cheeks, and he whispered the best two words Clint had ever heard.

"I'm free."