I'm kind of writing my own history for Clint to fit my little agenda here. I suppose you could consider it AU, but the movies haven't really given us anything on him, and I only read about the comics on Wikipedia. My version will be... different.

This chapter is also in Clint's POV which turned out a lot better than I thought it would.

Part III: Hour After

There are no clouds in the sky today. I haven't noticed things like that in a long time. I remember the last day that looked like this though. It was weird. I was in Afghanistan. I had shot three people the day before. Assassinated. I was—I am good at it.

I had been back at base all of an hour when I got the call. My CO wanted to see me. Urgent. I thought it was another mission.

I don't see any birds flying over me. No movement whatsoever. Only the smooth blue canvas, empty of all life. It's a familiar feeling.

We're in a forest, which is new for the team, but not for me and a few others. I'm lying on the prickly ground. There's a bunch of pine needles digging into my shoulder, but that's the least of my worries because there's a splintered bough jutting out of my left leg. I think it's gone all the way through, but I can't tell.

I'm thinking about falling asleep to that blue sky. It seems like a good idea at the moment. Like that day under the clear Afghanistan sky. Like the day I hopped on a plane to fly home to no one. Maybe this is my final journey home. Maybe when I open my eyes again, I'll see the ones I lost that day.

No such luck.

My blue sky is obscured by a large figure. It's really a talent the way this guy can block out the sun. But even the sight of his face and the thought that I might actually make it out of this alive can't block out the thoughts I was having before he showed up, and I realize I'm going to have to ask him a huge favor.

"Barton, you hear me?" he says.

Has he been talking to me? I don't know. "Yeah."

He's kneeling beside me, looking at my leg. I can see the look on his face, and now I'm sure this guy's had to deal with far more blood in his lifetime than anyone ever should. Which makes what I'm about to say kind of adding insult to injury.

"Hey Steve," I say.

"Yeah?" He's not really paying attention.

"There's something I need to ask you."

"Save it," he says.

He thinks I'm delirious or something. "No, I can't." I really can't. I've been saving it for too many years already, and the opportunity to spill my guts is just too good to pass up, you know? I mean, metaphorically. Not the tree branch in my leg. No one wants that.

"Listen, Steve," I say. "There's something I need you to do. In two days, got that?"

"Yeah, two days."

He's still not paying attention. I try to sit up, but he pushes me back down, and a guy can't really argue with the force of Captain America's shove. It wasn't really a shove, but it felt like one.

"Steve," I say it a little louder, and I'm gritting my teeth, because damn that hurts. What is he doing, twisting it around in there?

"Gimme a minute, Clint," he says a little softer this time. Maybe he is paying attention.

I give him a minute. He's quieter than usual, which is saying a lot, and it makes me think I'm worse off than he wants to admit.

"It's been a minute," I say. And I don't wait for him to reply. "I need to to go to the cemetery in two days. It's the anniversary. I need you to take yellow roses. I hate yellow roses, but she loves them, so that's what it has to be. I know it's a lot to ask, but if I can't go, someone needs to. Oh, and Molly doesn't like flowers, but I'm sure she'd get a kick out of you being there."

There's a brief silence. "Barton, who are you talking about?"

Of course no one told him. Natasha is the only one on the team who knows, and she wouldn't. Fury and Coulson know, but they tend to leave out such details. It's funny, now that I think of it, I think this is the sort of thing Cap would want to know.

"My family," I say. "I don't want to miss the anniversary, but I might not make it."

"You'll be fine. I'm gonna get you to safety, and you can hobble out to the cemetery yourself."

"But if I can't. If I'm stuck in a hospital or something, will you go for me?"

I know I'm being insistent, but I can't waver on this. It's the only thing I have left, and I'm not giving it up. I'm not letting them take it away.

I see him nodding and the sunlight reflecting off his golden hair. Maybe I am delirious. "I'll go," he says. Then he lifts me like I'm a sack of potatoes and carries me deeper into the trees.

.A.

I must have passed out before help came because I'm in a field hospital, and I'm not sure why we have a field hospital right now, but there must have been more injuries. The Army got involved, and there may have been civilians hurt as well.

The pain isn't any less than it was before. It's probably more because someone finally ripped that pine bough out of my leg. I can see the white bandages wrapped around it, the small bloodstain beginning to soak through.

My head feels hazy from anesthesia and pain medication as I try to sit up. I can see other cots around me with many more injured people. There are doctors and nurses running around, and there's a canvas tent overhead.

There's nowhere for me to go, so I lie back down. There's a dull throbbing in my head now, probably from moving too quickly. I close my eyes and listen to the hushed voices and the sounds outside of trucks and soldiers. It's familiar and comforting in a way most people would never understand.

It's when I hear voices closer to me, familiar ones, that I open my eyes again. A little ways down the row of beds, I see Steve talking to a doctor. Arguing is more like it. I can't quite here what they're saying, but when it's over, Steve seems to have won. That's not all that surprising.

He comes over to me once the doctor wanders off. "Feeling better?" he asks.

"Better than what?" I say. My mouth feels like it's full of sand.

"Than falling out of a tree."

I had hoped no one saw that. "Yeah, I guess. Hurts like hell, but I'll get over it."

"That's the spirit." He smiles, and I can't help thinking he's planning something, which is odd because I'm used to seeing that look from other, more sneaky members of the team not Cap.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"We're leaving in about ten minutes," he says.

"Leaving where?"

"We've only got about six hours of daylight left, and you have somewhere to be."

He leaves, and for a second, I can't figure out what he means. Then it all comes back to me. All the things I said to him when I was probably suffering a concussion. I told him about my family. I didn't tell people those things. I must have thought I was going to die or something if I told him any of it.

But now he knows. There's no taking it back, and I don't really want to. I close my eyes and I see blue sky. I'm flying, and nothing can touch me.

I've got to ask them what kind of painkillers they have me on.

.A.

Exactly ten minutes later, Steve shows up with a wheelchair. He helps me sit up, and normally, I would dislike that very strongly, but he's Steve, and you can't really be mad at the guy. Unless you're Tony Stark, and everyone knows he's unreasonable.

Steve takes me to one of the Quinjets that's already running. Natasha is in the pilot's seat, but it's just the three of us. I wonder if Steve talked to her about what I said. He must have. It doesn't matter because she already knows the whole story. She's the only one who does.

Steve again helps me into one of the seats and straps me in. Then he joins Natasha in the cockpit, and I wonder if he's giving me space or avoiding a potentially uncomfortable conversation. Or both. I'm fine with it either way. I like the quiet.

It takes us over an hour to get back to the city, and it isn't terribly comfortable having my leg constantly bounced around with Natasha's "driving." I'm hoping she's not taking us the whole way.

My wish is granted when I see that we've landed back at the tower. Tony built a landing pad for the Quinjets a while back which makes traveling for missions a lot easier. Today, it makes coming home easier.

Once the jet is secured, we go inside. There's a bouquet of yellow roses on the counter waiting for us. I can't say anything to that, but no one seems to be expecting much conversation. Steve picks up the flowers, and I see him scribble something on a scrap of paper. It looks like is says "Thanks Pepper."

Then we head to the elevator and down to the ground floor. The ride feels almost as long as the trip here. We had been upstate trying to take down a stronghold of mad scientists intent on taking over the world. Mad scientists with highly advanced weaponry, that is. There's no way I would have fallen out of a tree if it hadn't literally been blown away underneath me.

Once we get to the main floor, there's a car waiting. Pepper is in the driver's seat. Natasha opens the back door and Steve helps me in. It takes longer since the backseat of a sedan is a lot harder to get into that the open bay of a Quinjet.

Once I'm in, Steve folds the wheelchair and puts it in the trunk. Then he gets in across from me, and he looks like a kid who just hit a growth spurt with his knees jammed into the back of the driver's seat. It almost makes me laugh.

Pepper's driving is much smoother that Natasha's, even in the city, and I've never been more grateful for good driving. It's a little weird to be in a car with three other people and no one's saying a word. I get it though. No one knows what to say. I don't either.

We finally arrive at the cemetery. I don't remember telling Steve which one it was, but I'm sure he had Pepper look it up or something. After the complexities of getting out of the car, Steve stands beside me, staring at the ground. I look down and see what he sees. It rained recently.

"I don't think the wheels will go on the grass," I say. If I could walk right now, I would. I made it this far though, and Steve can go the rest of the way for me like I asked him too. I can see the headstone in the distance. I know just which one it is. I start to point it out, when Steve grabs my arm.

I shake my head. "I can't." It's more painful to admit almost than it's worth, but I know I can't make it, even with help. "I can't walk."

"You don't have to," Steve says. And he pulls me up as if I weigh nothing. He puts my arm over his shoulders, and with one of his arms, he half carries me across the grass. I had never thought about it until now, just how strong he is. I mean, I've always known he was strong. He's Captain America. But here he is carrying me across the cemetery when he really doesn't have to.

We reach the spot I've come to on the same day every year for the last seven. Has it been seven? It feels like yesterday in a lot of ways. It's hard to imagine I've lived this life separate from them. I could never have accepted the idea back then. I remember when it was a struggle to get out of bed, to eat, to keep breathing.

It's not anymore. It's not hard to see why I'm still here and why I had to lose them. I'm stronger than I was then, and that's why I find myself crying into Steve's shoulder. I couldn't have done that seven years ago.

It doesn't last long. It's just a moment of letting go that I've needed for so long. Then Steve lays the roses in front of Mary's grave.

"I have a feeling she'd be glad you're here," I say. "I know Molly would be jumping up and down at the sight of Captain America. She was a tomboy. Probably a lot more like me than her mother."

"I'm glad you told me about them," Steve says.

I nod. "Me too. I wouldn't be here if not for you."

There's no need to follow that, and we fall into silence for the remainder of our time there. We stay until the sun sets, and it's hard to see. My head is pounding, and my leg is killing me but I've just had one of the best days of my life since I lost my family seven years ago.

This time, I'm not going home to no one. I'm going back to a team, a family, that loves me, even if they are afraid to admit it. We prove it though, ever time we fight for each other. Today, Steve, Natasha, and even Pepper proved it to me. Maybe we didn't need to say it out loud. Maybe this was something we just felt in silence the way Steve carried me and stood beside me.

The sky is black as we drive home, but I know the sun is gonna rise in the morning, and my life is gonna be just fine.

Sorry about the wait on this one. I was distracted by other shiny things. The next chapter is going to focus on Natasha, though I think it will be in Steve's POV again. I also haven't decided what I'm doing with Thor and Bruce. I think I may want to do a chapter focusing on Pepper as well. So, let me know if you guys have any ideas for that.