You guys. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. That MOVIE. It was ... blindingly wonderful. I can't even process how amazing it was. I am definitely supposed to be sleeping right now but I can't stop THINKING about it. And certain things made me like the ending I'd written to this so much more than I used to. YOU GUYS. So many perfect things!

Anyway, as this is the last chapter I want to give credit to my best friend who came up with large chunks of this plot and encouraged me to post when I was too scared. AND I want to give credit to all of you for being so encouraging and awesome! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I am really going to miss this story.

Pepper put a hand on Tony's knee, stilling his bouncing leg. "It's going to be fine," she assured him quietly, looking around the silent waiting room.

"I know," he replied, making a point to lean back and appear relaxed. "I just don't get why they wouldn't let me in there. Or at least Bruce. He's a doctor."

"Technically…" Bruce muttered wearily.

They'd had this conversation before. In fact, they'd all been having it with Tony all day, but Clint had asked only Natasha to observe the procedure and they were respecting his wishes. Pepper surmised that Clint didn't want them in there in case it didn't work. He couldn't stop them all from flying out to New Jersey with him however, but Pepper was beginning to think that hadn't been the best idea either. It would have been much easier to keep Tony occupied if he had his lab. Instead, Tony, Steve, Thor, Bruce, Phil, Pepper, and Felix had been wandering around downtown New Jersey attracting attention and stopping at every coffee shop they came to which hadn't helped anyone's anxiety levels.

"He didn't even let Phil in," Tony continued. "They've been in there for hours so who knows what's going on. Last time we let him out of our sight idiot medical professionals gave him brain damage."

Pepper squeezed his knee. "If you wake Felix up he's all yours," she threatened quietly, glancing down at the sleeping boy in her lap.

Tony spared him a glance as well, his expression softening for just a moment before he got up to pace. Again.

"They will send word soon," Thor spoke up, his large frame looking especially so in the small plastic chair he was sitting in.

Phil nodded. "Any time now." He wasn't sitting, just standing quietly with his arms folded but Pepper could read the tension in his face.

"Steve, give me the letter," Tony said, whirling to face the captain, his palm outstretched.

He shook his head calmly. "I promised her not to open it until Dr. Doboisky is finished."

"C'mon," Tony said, smiling like he didn't believe Steve. "You heard Agent over here. They're probably almost done."

Steve just leaned back in his chair. And that was why Natasha had given Steve the sealed envelope not Tony, Pepper thought. She had to admit she was curious too, though. Almost ten hours ago before heading into the neurology wing with Clint, Natasha had handed Steve the envelope and made him promise not to open it until the procedure was finished. Tony had, of course, been obsessed with it ever since.

"He's here," Phil said quietly.

They all looked up as Dr. Doboisky came down the long hall toward them. He was neither smiling nor frowning which Pepper thought was disconcerting. Shouldn't he give them some kind of clue about how it went? Everyone stood with the exception of Pepper, who didn't want to wake Felix before she had to, and waited for the doctor to speak.

"Everything went well," he said, and a collective sigh escaped the team. "Your friends are in Recovery if you want to see them."

He pointed them in the right direction and headed back the way he came, but none of the Avengers moved yet. In the lingering silence, Steve opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

3 Years Later

Natasha stood on her toes and stretched up, trying to get the end of the banner pinned to the wall. She really didn't want to have to drag a chair over because she almost had it. So … close … there! The brightly colored "H" of Happy Birthday hung successfully. Now for the other end.

"I could use some help," she called to the other room.

"Almost done with the balloons," her husband called back.

She smiled, shaking her head. "You mean the game is almost over?"

His silence gave him away and she finished putting the banner up herself, muttering about the insanity of soccer fans. Then she turned to survey the kitchen. The food was set out (mostly purchased, she didn't cook) and the decorations were in place. They only needed the guest of honor now.

She walked into the living room, noting that not many of the balloons had been blown up. Her husband hastily grabbed the bag of balloons and stuck one in his mouth, his brown eyes not leaving the screen.

"Game's tied," he said around the balloon.

She plopped next to him on the couch, her fingers coming up to tease the curly blond hair at the nape of his neck. "Haven't you already seen this game?"

He shot her a sheepish grin, the orange balloon still hanging from his mouth.

"They're going to be here soon, turn it off," she said smiling, shoving his shoulder playfully.

As if by prophecy, there was a rap on the door and it opened, the birthday boy poking his head in.

"Come on in, Clint!" Natasha told him, standing to hug her friend.

He was holding his six-month-old daughter, Ava, in one arm which made the hug a bit difficult, but she didn't mind. "Looks good, Nat," he said warmly, catching sight of the banner and the other decorations.

"I can't take all the credit," she said. "Lane blew up at least two balloons."

Lane came forward to shake his hand while Natasha welcomed his wife, Grace, in with a hug.

"Where's everybody else?" she asked.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Chronically late. But they do have to fly in all the way from New York, so. I'm sure they'll be here soon."

A few other friends from the neighborhood stopped by as everyone dug into the food, sending their kids to play outside the house, and just when Natasha was starting to wonder if they should start cake and ice cream without the others, they arrived.

Tony was the first through the door, as usual, followed closely by Pepper and Felix, the latter of which dashed out the back door immediately before his mother could remind him to greet their friends. She apologized for the six-year-old, shaking her head, but Natasha waved it off, hugging her.

"I was getting worried you wouldn't make it," she said smiling. Steve and Bruce were next through the door followed by Phil, and even Thor and Jane had managed to get there. Natasha greeted them all warmly and waved them into the crowded kitchen. "We were just about to start the cake," she told them.

She brought the huge chocolate cake to the table and lit the candles, laughing at the good-natured jibes about how many there were, and someone flipped off the lights which prompted a very loud, slightly off-key rendition of the birthday song.

"...Happy birthday, dear Cli-iiiint! Happy birthday to you!" they finished.

Clint grinned at them all and leaned over the cake, blowing out all the candles in a single breath to cheers and applause. Natasha met his eyes over the cake as the lights flipped back on and shared a grin with him.

"And many more," she told him.

Steve opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper...

Clint asked me to make a choice, and I did.

You all know, more than anyone, that you can't escape the past. You can only learn to deal with it. And this is how I'm choosing to deal with it. Don't tell us anything about S.H.I.E.L.D. or what we've done in the past; allow us to live free of the things that haunt us.

Dr. Doboisky has agreed to remove my memories which will, I hope, provide further research in the field. In the future I believe he will be able to help many more people regain their pasts, but that's not the reason I'm doing this.

I've spent a long time trying to balance my ledger, and I never will. But Clint deserves a chance at real happiness, and I'm going to take it with him.

- Natasha