Wow! I totally didn't expect that many people to read my story on the first day! You guys are AWESOME! Your collective amazingness has spurred me on to write/post this today. I wouldn't have done anything until next week, at the soonest. Thank you SO much!

I've already replied to the reviewers via Private Message, but now I shall do this:

Special thank yous to: JRBarton, Rivanwarrioress, Barton-Lover, boysmom5, cresdin, AvengerRedHuntress, ecat, and DevinBourdain, blackdog-Iz, and Maxiekat for following/favouriting the story, as well as BONUS POINTS to JRBarton for following ME, as an author.

Also, to: JRBarton (dude, you are awesome!), RivanWarrioress, Qweb, and AvengerRedHuntress, and DevinBourdain for reviewing!

ON WITH THE SHOW! This chapter is dedicated to RivanWarrioress for suggesting the idea. Her profile can be found here: u/1181377/

Just a warning, I'm using a mix of comic book story of Captain America as well as the movie, because I can and because it makes his background with losing Bucky so much more tragic than it already is.

Clint was on the roof again. He was staring down at the bustling city, watching all the people going through their lives, unaware that Clint was watching them. He was always watching, and whenever something was out of line, he could see it. That made him feel better, more important. He was actually doing something, something that didn't require talking to people, or letting them even know he was there. It was one of his strongest qualities.

Nobody bothered him when he was on the roof. Sometimes, Natasha would sit out with him, but they'd never talk. They'd just sit, looking at the people below and taking comfort in the fact that there was someone there, even though Phil was dead and Clint was lost.

Natasha knew. But nobody else did. Nobody else could see how lost Clint was, instead just avoiding him and doing nothing but push him farther over the edge. Today, however, was an exception.

The hatch opened. Clint heard it, heard Natasha step onto the roof and didn't move. However, he heard another set of footsteps intruding on his turf, and he turned around.

Natasha had brought Steve with her this time. Clint glared at him, unsure of what he wanted. He looked slightly nervous, either because of the roof or the angry-looking agent sitting on it.

"Clint," Natasha said, rather forcefully. "Captain Rogers is going to have a talk with you."

Clint stared at her wordlessly. He blinked, then turned his sharp gaze over to Steve. Steve hid his frightened look and changed it to an appealing one, which Clint found less preferable. He didn't say anything, and Natasha sighed and closed the door, leaving the two men alone on the roof.

Steve carefully lowered himself down onto the roof, looking down at the cars and buildings and people. "Wow," Steve said, quietly. "This is nice."

Clint didn't move, didn't do anything. He figured that Steve had come up here to play therapist, and Clint didn't like therapists. They always pressed him for information he didn't want to give, information he would never give to anyone except Phil.

"Romanoff told me to talk to you," Steve started, carefully watching Clint's eyes. He wanted to know how much the agent was prepared to show him, and what caught him. "She told me that I had gone through something... similar, I guess, to what you had gone through recently. She told me to tell you about Bucky."

Clint still hadn't changed anything. Steve pressed on. "She didn't tell me why, but I guessed. All those SHIELD Agents that Loki killed, one of them was different to you. Am I right?" Clint's eyes flickered, showing just a tiny sliver of pain and guilt before he covered it up again. "And I think I can guess who it was, Barton. It was Phil Coulson, wasn't it?"

Steve didn't really know what to expect. He had only spoken about two questions to the man, both of them had gotten him no more than one sentence answers. Natasha hadn't given him any warnings. What Steve got wasn't much, but coming from the sullen agent next to him, it was everything.

Clint's eyes flew up to meet Steve's, and he stared at him for many drawn-out moments before saying one word. "Yes." His voice was rough and deeper than Steve had expected, although not much. The way his face had gone ghostly still like it had proved that it impacted him, a lot more than Clint would ever admit (until years later).

Steve nodded. "There was a guy similar like that in my life, too. His name was James Barnes, but we all called him Bucky. He was my age, but taller and older-looking, and much more popular with ladies." Steve hesitated, looking at Clint. Clint was looking at the tiles underneath him, but he moved his hand when Steve stopped talking, proving that he was listening. Steve smiled.

"He enlisted before I finally got in, and before I became what I am, he was captured along with so many others by the Germans. I rescued him and the other men, in a plane flew that Tony's dad flew for me." Steve stopped again, very quietly murmuring the word "fonduing" before continuing. Clint would have to ask him about it later.

"I just barely rescued them on time. But after I did it, I felt so proud. I had saved my friend after he had helped me through my whole life. I felt real, then, for the first time. I had done something that was real.

"Some of those men, Bucky, and I became a team of our own, and we took down so many bases that we began to get famous State-wide. Captian America, and his side-kick Bucky Barnes.

"But those days never last. It was our final battle with the Red Skull. We were both on his ship as he flew it out to go bomb the States. We tried, together, to defuse them, to stop him. But I fell. I fell into the English Channel, and my thoughts as I did it were terrible. Bucky was always there to help me, and now I had left him alone, practically sitting on top of a gigantic bomb. I don't know what happened, but SHIELD told me he set it off to explode in the air, right there, and died in the blast. I let him down. I made a huge mistake, and my best friend was killed because of it."

Clint blinked slowly. Now that, that was something the SHIELD report hadn't included in Roger's file. Not the fall. They had changed it to make him look better, but now Clint knew the truth.

"Steve," he said, softly.

Steve met his gaze, slightly taken by surprise. He hadn't thought that Clint would answer him, or say anything. That one yes felt absurdly lucky to him.

"I understand. Phil saved me from my old life, and brought me to SHIELD. He did so much for me, and I did so little for him. I owe him my life, I owe him everything I am and everything I have. I'll never repay him for the great service he did for me, or the wrong I did to him." Clint fell silent. Talking, as much as denied this, helped him. It always had, but he never found anyone (except Phil) to talk to that would listen to him and understand him the way he needed them to. But Steve was listening to him, and thinking of something to say back to him.

"Barton, you didn't do anything wrong to Phil. I'd be willing to bet that you made everything in his life better. You gave him someone to protect, someone to fight for, and someone that trusted him beyond any trust I've ever seen before. He owes you too, Barton, and he died protecting what he believed in. There's nothing wrong with that, nothing anyone could say that could make this your fault. You were the bullet in the gun, not the gun itself or the one who pulled the trigger. The fact that you blame yourself is wrong. You tried to fight it, and with Natasha's help you fought free of it. Barton, there is so much in yourself you don't see. No-one who isn't dead or made out of steel could go through half of what you've had to deal with. You're the strongest person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Don't you dare think that you are at fault." Steve blinked self-consciously.

"I think I'm done now," he muttered, and turned around to leave.

Of course, the man behind him had one more surprise in stock. "Steve, I think you should take your own advice. You know why. And it's about time that you started calling me Clint."

A warm glow enveloped Steve at that, and he turned to look at Clint. He was standing on his feet, grinning at Steve and at his amazed expression. "Clint," he repeated, his small smile widening.

Steve returned the smile. "Clint. Thank you."

I'm sorry it isn't as long as the first chapter, but this is going to be the approximate length of these little things (See what I did there?). Anyway... They're going to be short. Hopefully frequent, but short. I'm sorry.

As always, leave suggestions for chapters in the reviews, and I'll probably write them! Thank you, and DFTBA!