Darkness was starting to spread across the vast white blanket covering the land. The small but important pocket knife fell into the snow once again as Barton's numb fingers fumbled with it. He let out a frustrated sigh between chattering teeth and dug through the snow until he latched onto the knife again. He had picked every type of lock imaginable under a vast array of circumstances, but this was by far the most challenging. His own body was betraying him, failing to respond to simple commands and contort his fingers in what should have been familiar patterns.

Clint had proven himself many times over the years; shown something in himself that Coulson believed in, earned Fury's faith in him and secured Natasha's loyalty and trust. The Avengers trusted him to have their backs and, considering recent events, the archer had proven he deserved his spot on the team by sheer determination alone. Despite it all, it was still a daily challenge to prove to himself that he had the right to stand alongside superheroes, to go round for round with extraordinary people that had powers and moral righteousness he never had to start with. This challenge was compounded by the sudden faith Captain America had just put in him.

Steve had made it a point to try and catch Hawkeye every time he fell, even though Clint always managed to have a way out. Rogers believed Clint could save himself while the good Captain worked to save the team; it was the first time the leader of the Avengers had put such faith in the archer and Barton couldn't allow himself to fail. Not only would it mean his death, but Steve would forever be saddled with the guilt of leaving Clint to such a fate. The man already had so much on his shoulders; he shouldn't have to carry Barton's failures as well.

With an almost impossible level of concentration, Clint continued to twist the knife in the lock, fighting hard to keep from trembling and giving into the darkness that hovered on the outskirts of his vision. He would get himself out of this. Steve was depending on him.

Steve leaned against the door after it locked shut, his legs suddenly unable to support him. He was rapidly starting to regret his decision to leave Hawkeye to fend for himself. What if he was too far gone from hypothermia to understand what Rogers was getting at? What if he couldn't free himself? What if the guards killed him before he got back inside? The possibilities were dizzying. He closed his eyes and sucked in a steadying breath. Clint was a highly trained SHIELD agent. He didn't need a babysitter. Steve had to believe that the man could pull off the impossible so he could warn the team about what was coming their way.

"It doesn't look like you were successful, Captain Rogers," gloated the commander.

Steve glared with a hatred he didn't think he possessed. If everyone didn't walk away from this unharmed, there would be no one that could pull him off the commander once he got a hold of him. It was a promise that both men seemed to recognize.

"Perhaps you'd like to share some of your deepest darkest secrets in an attempt to earn the release of your misguided friend out there?" The temptation to give them one of SHIELD's less important secrets nagged at the back of his mind. He could save his friend. Yet he knew that saying anything would be as big a betrayal to Clint as letting the archer die. Pooling his strength, he managed to keep silent. The commander smirked. "Very well, some time alone in your cell to think things over might loosen your lips."

The two guards didn't waste any time, grabbing him by the elbows and forcing him back towards the hall. "I'd think quickly, Captain. Just because they were able to bring you back from a frozen death, doesn't mean we'll be able to do the same for him. The gamble is yours."

As Steve felt himself dragged out of the room, he couldn't help but think just how much of a gamble he was taking. The burden of command had become a physical thing. It was wrapped around his neck, strangling him. Somewhere along the way, the weight had become too much, the body count too heavy to drag around with him.

Before Steve could get a handle on the combination of anger and panic, he found his fist connecting to the side of one of the guard's heads. The moves had long since become familiar, almost nothing more than muscle memory; the coil of muscles, the jarring impact as his fist hit flesh and bone were all common place. In a matter of minutes aided by a renewed determination, Rogers had knocked out both guards as well as the five less threatening Hydra members in the communications room.

His pulse thrummed underneath his skin and his chest heaved with the effort to suck in air. All the brightly colored buttons on the control panel before Steve blurred together and the painful feeling of inadequacy smothered him. This was what he had sacrificed Barton for, a chance to warn the team, and now, standing in front of a technological marvel of the twenty-first century, Steve wasn't sure he could do it.

A shaky breath left his lips. Banner had faced his inner demons and came back to join the team. Thor put aside family loyalty to stand up for what was right and just. Natasha fought everyday to atone for the wrongs she had done. Clint constantly fought for redemption and Tony Stark, the most self-centered person Rogers had ever met, put all his arrogance aside to sacrifice himself for the world. If they could do all that, surely he could live up to all their expectations and be Captain America, if only for a moment.

Hesitantly, he reached out towards the control panel and, utilising every scrap of information Stark and Banner ever thought to impart upon him, started pressing buttons. Maybe it was his naivety or maybe Tony had been exaggerating the complexity of computer systems, but the computer program was surprisingly easy to navigate. Within minutes, an operation window controlling communications popped up.

Cautious fingers typed in the Avengers' emergency frequency, and Rogers held his breath as he waited to either be connected with the team or have the console blow up.

"Captain?"

Steve looked up to see a frowning Tony Stark staring back at him from the small window on the computer, and wasn't that the most beautiful sight in the world. The tension and fear that had coiled its way around the Captain's insides released; it was reassuring just being in contact with the team, calming him down. Steve silently vowed never to tell Tony that.

"You know next time you and Bird Boy want to go joyriding with friends you really should give us a heads up. You're out past curfew mister…" lectured Stark, but Natasha pushed him out of the way to position herself in front of the camera.

Ignoring Iron Man's muffled protests behind her, she asked, "Are you two alright? We're fifteen minutes out from your location."

Cowardice killed the words before he could voice them; how could he tell her that he'd probably left Clint to die? "Listen to me, you're all in danger. Hydra has developed a new type of missile and they claim you'll never see it coming." He could hear Tony scoff in the background and Natasha rolled her eyes as the billionaire continued to grumble. "Check your ego for a moment, Stark. They seemed pretty confident that they could take you guys out with it."

The lighting in the Quinjet changed as alarms started flashing. Steve could feel the change in mood as if he were there with them. "What's happening?"

Romanoff's fingers flew over the control. She turned just as Steve caught a flash of red metal behind her. "Stark?!" Her voice held a note of concern despite her cool demeanour.

"I got this," replied Iron Man before the screen went fuzzy and hissed with the sound of static. Just like that, his tentative connection with the team was lost and all that filled the empty room was worry and fear for their safety.

A loud bang shook the complex, the floor rolling underneath Steve's feet and the roar of fire ringing in his ears. The sudden motion flung him forward. His head connected with the edge of the consol with a resounding thud. His last thought before the blackness smothered him was that he had let the team down.

A pesky, repetitive beeping was burrowing itself deep into Steve's brain. It drowned out everything, a beacon in a sea of turmoil and disconcerting nothingness. He felt heavy, sore, and it took far more effort than it ever should just open his eyes. His hand ghosted over a thick comforter, the cream and faded brown a welcoming sight. Afternoon sunlight flooded the room through large windows. Rogers could just make out the sleek silhouette of Natasha standing in front of them.

His heart skipped a beat as his chest tightened. Eyes stinging with the promise of tears, Rogers sucked in a shuddering breath. If the Black Widow was standing in his room instead of Barton's after such a disastrous mission, it could only mean…

"He's alive," she said before turning and sashaying towards him. She sat down in the nearby chair with a fluidity most dancers would envy and turned off the heart monitor. Her jade eyes pierced all the way to his soul as a thousand questions danced on his lips. After a moment of silence she took pity on him. "You were right about the missile. They did develop a new form of stealth technology, but you know Tony, never one to be out done. He was able to take it out. He and Bruce are in the lab right now going over the research for the technology."

"Natasha…" The pleading whisper gave a vulnerability to Steve that she had never seen before.

Romanoff continued, "That explosion helped distract them long enough for Stark to take out the missile and for us to land the jet."

He remembered feeling the blast before everything went black, but he had no idea what caused it. His brow creased. "What explosion?"

"It was Barton. He got into their generator room and worked his magic. Don't know how he managed it though. Hypothermia had set in pretty good. When Thor finally found him he was hiding in the hanger. Took some impressive manhandling to get him out of his hiding spot, but Thor can be surprisingly… gentle." A smile tugged at her lips.

"Why would Barton hide from you?"

"Terminal burrowing." Natasha paused to consider how close she came to losing Clint. "People suffering from late stages of hypothermia often experience what's referred to as hide and die syndrome. They seek out confined places to try and protect themselves."

Steve's stomach bottomed out and he had to swallow back the guilt. He could see the remnants of fear that Natasha had felt upon finding the archer half dead, a position he had put both of them in. Bracing himself for whatever retaliation Romanoff would visit upon him, he confessed, "I left him to die there."

They stared at each other, neither moving a muscle. Steve could see where her reputation came from. Her lack of response was frightening.

"I know." Her voice was soft and exonerating. "You played the odds and had faith that Barton could look out for himself. He's going to be fine; medical is already taking about releasing him and everyone else walked away. You did the right thing under the circumstances, Steve."

"It doesn't feel like it."

"He looks up to you, you know. He'd never say it, but it's true. Hell, he even looks up to Tony, if you can believe that." Natasha let out a snort at the idea herself.

It felt like a new cut, a slap across the face, to learn that, after everything he'd let Clint suffer, the man looked up to him like some goddamn hero. He certainly hadn't done anything heroic during their last fiasco and he couldn't recall doing anything noteworthy for the archer ever. "Why?"

"Because you have the strength to do what's right. He and I… we haven't always been able to do the right thing. Phil wasn't the only one that idolized you. Not that Barton has a collection of Captain America memorabilia anywhere or anything but… I saw the look he would get when Phil used to talk about you and all the things you did. Phil would tell your stories and Clint would get this glint in his eye, that envious, when-I-grow-up-I-want-to-be-like-that look." Romanoff glanced away for a moment at the mention of their handler. The memories were still too painful to think about, even if they were happy memories. "You need to have more faith in yourself, Steve. Trust your judgement. We all do."

Natasha reached over and placed her hand in his much larger one. She exuded a warmth and trust that Steve couldn't remember seeing before. A piece of cold metal slipped into his hand. It took moment to realize that she had slipped him a key.

"Stark has a cabin up state. Nice and quiet, a great place to get away from it all for a while and get perspective on things. We've been going nonstop since Loki and we think a change of scenery could do you some good. Take a week, get out of this mad house, get some fresh air and sing kumbaya around a fire or whatever it is you do in your spare time. You'll see that I'm right." With that, she got up and left him alone, the weight of the key heavy in his hand.

Steve's sigh echoed in the room. Maybe Natasha was right and a break would make things clearer. He couldn't shake the guilt about Barton but he had been right. The archer not only got himself out, but also created a diversion that saved the team. They shut down another one of Hydra's bases and now had the stealth technology research Hydra had been developing; the last mission was firmly in the win column. Steve had watched the other Avengers come to terms with some of their demons. Perhaps he should give serious thought to burying some of his.

His finger tightened around the key. He was going to do it. He owed it to the team to put his faith in the people who deserved it. After all, the past belonged in the past and he had the future to look to now.

The End.

Thank-you to everyone who read this story. A super big thanks to those that continuously read my stories and show their support.

Endless thanks and much appreciation to anyone reviewed this story. Almost every chapter got over ten reviews!

Many thanks to Red Aurora for all their tremendous beta work on this story.

The next story will be Lambs to the Slaughter which is the second part to Albatross and inspired by a prompt from Twisted-67. Steve needs to get away and clear his head. Naturally Tony sees this as a chance for a guy's weekend but when they arrive at the cabin a very large wolf puts a damper on the weekend and could foretell the return of a former enemy.

I have and AU story I wanted to try but it will work its way around to fit into this universe; Forlorn Hope. Loki has claimed the Earth but a pesky group of resistance fighters led by would be heroes are a constant thorn in his side. With the age of man coming to a close can the heroes rise up and stop him or will the human race be crushed under Loki's army?

Following that will be Birds of a Feather Flock Together. Superheroes: a preposterous idea that sounds crazy in theory as well as practice. It would make sense that a group of mentally unstable individuals would create a fantasy world in which they were heroes that saved the world on a regular basis. If one was to pretend to be a superhero why would they go with archer but more importantly, Clint can't shake the feeling that it's all true despite the padded walls and what the doctor handing out the pills is telling him.

After a week of house hunting, I have triumphantly found a place. That being said in order to pack, move and get internet hooked up at the new place, it will probably be early July before I start posting the next Avengers story. I thought about starting to post now but didn't want to have a huge gap between chapters near the end of the month. Once I get settled, I will start posting the next story.