https://youtu.be/pB-5XG-DbAA

After the snap that shook the universe to its core, the world stopped. The life that had survived continued on, but their lives were paler, sadder, and diminished in meaning.

You had been called one of the fortunate, though you never once felt that way in the years that followed. Very few of the team had survived, and the compound barely held echoes of the voices of the lost anymore. Steve was disconnected and despondent, broken like you had never seen of him before. Nat and Bruce awkwardly danced around each other day in and day out, but you knew it was for show despite no need for it. If they could find any shred of happiness together then no one would ever dare to judge. Tony had come home but he was unreachable; his traumas had run far too deep, and he was no more real to you than those who had disappeared.

Life had stumbled along for everyone without any desire to make anything more. The heroes who would save the universe felt impotent to do so, and the world never once sought to blame them. Thor had left Earth only twice since the snap, returning quickly to be with the remnants of his only remaining family, and the only home that he knew anymore without Asgard to call his own. On this day, however, his focus would change, and his travels were much faster and focused. He sought out the missing part of the incomplete six-piece puzzle, so that he might bring them hope once more. Maybe if they were all here, the original six Avengers could find the drive to fight again.

When Clint walked through the door with Thor, he looked nothing like the friend you had known for so many years. You hadn't seen him since the Raft, when he had taken the deal of house arrest to be with his family. All it took was one look to understand that the team would be his only family now; Laura and the kids hadn't been spared from the fate that Thanos had forced upon them.

"Clint," you greeted softly, walking to greet him, "I am so sorry." The natural urge to hug him was met with a cold reception, so you opted to hold back and it felt completely wrong.

"Yeah, me too."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing, (Y/N)," he answered flatly, and offered no more.

"Okay. You'll let me know if that changes?"

"Sure."

"Alright, so let's get you settled in, then. There's a guest room upstairs that's all yours for as long as you want it. I'll show you, it's next to mine."

All he could muster was a shrug of agreement as he picked up his one bag that carried all he had left of himself. You held out a hand for him to take, but he declined, simply nodding you towards the elevator. The two of you stood at its doors in silence as you waited for them to open, like two strangers who had just met only moments before.

It was a crushing feeling, being this close to him and yet so utterly distant. Years ago, he had trained you into SHIELD just before Nat had been brought on board. The two of you had grown close over that time, so much so that you had helped convince Fury to take Natasha in; more precisely, you had distracted him so that Clint could sneak her into the facility. You had shared so many laughs and horrors with this man and had gotten each other through life and death before, but this was nothing like those times. This felt real for the first time and you had no idea how to even talk to him anymore.

"You okay?"

The sound of his voice startled you back to attention, "um...yeah, as much as can be expected, I suppose. I'm not sure what to do anymore. None of us do. We're just languishing here, trying to not drive each other crazy."

"It's a short drive."

"Thanks, jerk," you finally, genuinely smiled. "You're here too, you know? So, who's the crazy one now?"

Clint kept his eyes up towards the numbers of each floor as they changed, as if looking at you would be too much. He pushed down the small spark within him that wanted to play into the banter, like the old days. He couldn't engage that way, because if it couldn't be felt genuinely, he was only lying to you. "I'm only here to drive an arrow through that bastard's eye. I don't think I'm staying past that."

"I assumed as much."

The doors opened to allow you both in, and you pushed the button to your floor to make your way. Once again, he watched the numbers change while you watched him. "So, Thor thinks there's a fight for us? He hasn't really said much about it, but we're never all in the same room very often anymore."

"He thinks he might have a plan," he nodded. "Sounds like he'll bring it to everyone tonight. You up for it? From the stories I've heard about Titan and Wakanda, it was a blood bath."

"We're all ready."

"Even Stark?"

"Even Stark," you answered quickly. Now all you had to do was to make yourself believe it.

"Okay, then. I'm in."

The lift came to a stop and you pointed him towards his room, allowing him to exit first, but he waited for you as a true gentleman. The remaining steps to his door were taken in painful silence, awkwardly at best. You had never experienced this with Clint before, and you couldn't stand it one second more. He was your closest, best friend, and the two of you needed reminding of that. He pushed his door open to enter, but before he could you took his hand to hold him steady.

"Barton, talk to me. I'm right here. I'm still me."

"I'm not still me, (Y/N). I'm not the man you're expecting anymore. I can't be him."

"Then tell me about this person. No matter who this new Clint is, it's not going to change how I feel. We promised to always have each other's backs, remember? I'm keeping my part of that promise."

"You sure, (Y/N)? Are you sure you want to know?"

"Try me."

With that simple agreement, the grip on your hand tightened and he pulled you into the room with a jolt. A split-second later you were held firmly against him, your heart beating so forcefully that there was no way that he wasn't feeling it too. "Clint-"

"I'm not looking for love, (Y/N). I'm done with that."

"Then what are you looking for, Clint?"

"A distraction," he said, his voice low and dark, "a friend. One night. You."

You looked into his eyes to try to read him and to understand this man who had changed so much. The Clint you knew would never have asked this of you, but this Clint carried a pain and desperation that you wanted to heal. This may not do it, or it could make everything so much worse, but that was worry for another time.

"One night," you said quietly, allowing him to draw you into the room, your other hand slamming the door firmly shut.

~~~

"Don't leave. Not yet."

Your eyes were closed, as if doing so would keep the world outside away just a little bit longer. It would be a lie to say that you hadn't considered this with Clint before, but that was years ago; he was your superior then, and he carried himself with such command and assuredness that you couldn't have been the only one to think about it. But now, years had gone by and he was so much more to you, and you prayed that this hadn't just ruined it all. You had lived without him long enough, and to have him back even this much had you fearing his loss again. When you opened your eyes and finally looked back at him, the sight was a relief. The glimmer of your best friend was in his eyes again.

"I won't leave."

"Stay with me. I don't think I'll survive being alone right now." He turned away and stared at the ceiling, his hand blindly reaching out and searching for yours until you finally connected.

"Hey, it's okay, Clint. I'll stay as long as you need me to."

"Do you think..." he paused, his voice cracking and with no guarantee to hold, "do you think she knows? What we did?"

It wasn't what you expected, and your voice fell mute at the worst possible time. Your mouth hung agape as you tried to put any sensical words together, but he was far more composed and spoke again.

"I know she's gone. They all are, it's just that-"

"You feel guilty."

"Yeah."

"Clint, look at me."

He complied, albeit slowly, and his eyes were filled with tears. "I haven't even cried yet, (Y/N). It's been years, and I've been too angry to. Then I do this with you and now I'm not sure if I'll be able to stop."

"Don't do this to yourself. I know Laura, and she would understand. She would know what this was, and she'd understand."

"I don't know...maybe..."

"I know. Honey, you're hurting and believe me, I know how you're feeling. Maybe not in the same way after what you've lost, but we're all the same right now. We're just figuring out how to survive and how to help each other through this. That's what this was, Clint. We were being there for each other, that's all. She would be able to see that."

He wiped his free hand quickly over his eyes and turned away again. He wanted her here so desperately. He wanted to hear his kids playing in the next room again. He wanted his life back to the way it was, and he would never see it again. "Don't hate me for this, (Y/N)."

"That could never happen."

"I hate me."

The break in his voice was too much to bear, and your own tears began to join his. With a deep and shaky breath, you moved closer to lay against him. When the warmth of your skin touched his, he didn't pull away, but he didn't move any closer either. "If you love her, and if you care about me, please don't. Please don't hate yourself. None of this is your fault, and we're going to figure this out. You're not alone anymore."

"I know," he whispered, but then held silent again for several minutes. You stayed at his side in the quiet, until the sun began to just peek up from the horizon. You shifted slightly to see if maybe he had fallen asleep when his breaths calmed, but when you tried to pull your hand away from his, the tight grip returned. "(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?"

"It couldn't have been anyone else but you. I want you to know that."

"I know, Clint. I know."

"Good," he sighed contentedly, "but don't go just yet. It's a new day. Let's watch the sun come up before shit gets real again. Let's pretend that it's all okay."

"As long as you need me, I told you that," you agreed, moving into the arm he was holding up for you to slide under. You rested your head on his chest, calmed by the rhythm of his breaths that relaxed with each one taken. You watched the sunrise with him, feeling alive for the first time in years, and that this new day would be the start of some semblance of life. Clint was home, and the family was together again, ready to fight to see another sunrise.