Clint smiled when he heard his children cry out for him as he walked through the door. You rounded the corner first and into his waiting arms. "I missed you, Dad," you whispered. You were the oldest and the strongest of your siblings. You always felt the need to protect your little sister and brothers when your dad was gone, so you were relieved every time he came home.

"Missed you too, kiddo. Now where's your mom?" You told him she was out with Nathaniel. "Alright. Go get your chores done." You nodded and headed for the door. When you reached the doorway, you stopped and turned back to him. "Dad?" Clint looked up from the stack of bills on the table with a smile. "Could you...do you think you could teach me how to shoot? Like you?" The proud smile on Clint's face could have rivaled any star in the sky. "Sure. Meet me outside the barn in the morning. Oh...and let me tell your mother." You beamed and went about doing your chores around the farm.

The next morning, you were up before dawn since you were so excited. You quickly finished your chores, careful not wake your siblings or parents, especially your dad who liked to sleep in when he wasn't away. By the time you'd finished your chores, your dad was up and drinking his coffee. "Morning, kiddo. Thirty minutes and we'll get started." You nodded again and sat down to wait. You were bouncing your legs up and down in anticipation.

Clint watched you with a small smile on his face. He hardly had any time to spend with his family and you least of all. You were the eldest and had a life outside of the farm and school. So, Clint took every chance he had to spend time with you and if that meant teaching you how to shoot, then that's what he would do. At least, that's how he phrased it with his wife. If he was honest, he'd admit that he was thrilled at least one of his children was old enough to learn the art of archery.

As soon as Clint put his coffee cup in the sink, you shot up off the couch and went running outside. Clint laughed and walked out behind you, grabbing an old bow as well as his own. You were bouncing on the balls of your feet by the time Clint met you behind the barn. "You're not gonna be able to shoot anything if you're bouncing like that," Clint said with a laugh as he handed you the old bow. You took it carefully, as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

Clint couldn't keep the smile off his face as he showed you how to safely use the weapon. He took you through the process step by step, but Clint really believed that practice made perfect, so he set you up in front of a target. "Remember to breath, Y/N." You did everything your father had told you and fired. You missed. "Try again." You took a deep breath and tried again, this time you hit the target. "Good! Again!"

By the end of the day, you were sweaty and your arms were tired but you'd hit the target more times than not. Neither you nor your father could wipe the smiles off your faces. "I take it you did well?" your mom asked when the two of you approached the house. She handed you each a glass of lemonade. "Yeah. Kid's a natural, just like their old man!" Clint bragged, throwing his free arm around your shoulders. "Good. Go get cleaned up for dinner." Clint watched as you went inside. "That's my kid," he thought to himself. He'd never been more proud of you than he was that day. You'd refused to give up and Clint knew that, one day, you could be even better than he was.

'