Captain America risked a glance at his extremely volatile american teammate across the gym from where he had just entered. The archer was hunched forward, royally beating the crap out of the punching bag in front of him. Steve's super soldier enhanced eyes caught the blood staining his bruised knuckles from thirteen yards back. The muscles in his back were tight with tension and exhaustion, shimmering with the thick layers of sweat streaming down, curving around his muscles. Steve's eyes narrowed in knowing concern as he distantly wondered exactly how long the man had been down here. The blood stained lettering on the punching bag in front of him suggested much longer than was probably strictly healthy.

The Captain let it go given the date and moved over to the terf track circling the workout room before launching into a full blown sprint around the gym. It was a full hour and a half before Clint slowed his hand breaking, anger management, coping mechanism to a stop and sank to the floor against the wall, a water bottle clutched in his hand as he wiped at his sweat coated forehead with the back of his forearm. Steve stopped his running as well, and sat down beside him, panting heavily and accepting the water bottle Barton held out to him.

"Thanks." he said tightly as he screwed off the cap and tossed it into the trashcan on the other side of the refrigerator that Clint was leaning against. The archer nodded grimly and downed the contents of his plastic bottle, crushing the material in his fist. "Rough night?" Steve asked knowingly as the shorter man tipped his head back against the wall.

"Something like that." he responded tightly. The soldier was slightly surprised that the man's redheaded wife wasn't down here with him, cursing his ear off for hurting himself.

"Nat?" he asked simply.

"Asleep. Aleksandra woke up a grand total of six times." he laughed dryly, a small smile stretching across his face at the mention of his newborn daughter. The smile promptly faded a few moments later.

"You know, he'd be proud of you." Steve said hesitantly. Clint tensed up so fast it nearly gave the good captain whiplash.

"Nobody is proud of an assassin Rogers." he said darkly.

"You're married and you've got a daughter, Barton. I'd say he'd be pretty darn proud." he said certainly. Clint's eyebrow arched minutely and his hard expression softened to something sadder.

"Well, Cap, we'll never know if you're correct or not, now will we," he said with a sad smile as he picked himself up off the ground. Steve followed him with piercing blue eyes, knowing full well the feeling of loss and the desire to be left alone that came with it. He only nodded stiffly and waited until the archer had disappeared out of the gym to stand up and resume his work out.

Clint eased his bedroom door open to find Natasha passed out on the bed in a different position than he had left her in. That same fond smile momentarily reappeared the as he stared at the only two girls in the world that he would unquestionably die for, lying on top of the deep purple covers. Aleksandra's tiny body was curled up on her mom's chest, chubby cheeks squished against Natasha's sternum. The redhead's pale fingers were linked protectively over the brunette baby's back.

When he shut the door softly, Natasha's green eyes inevitably snapped open and Aleksandra whined softly as the surface she was sleeping on shifted only infinitesimally; assassin's daughter indeed.

"Mazokhistskiy idiotskaya amerikanskaya," Natasha hissed lowly, glaring at his hands. The corners of his tight lipped smile twitched. She was feisty and rude but she also married him.

"Izvinite." he replied softly, eyes shifting from his wife to his daughter. Her eyes lost some of their intense anger and she followed his gaze to the baby who's body rose up and down with her breathing. "He never got to meet her." he smiled nostalgically, leaning against the wall. Natasha fell silent. "He wasn't at our wedding either, Tasha." he was smiling, only because he couldn't help it while looking at his beautiful daughter. She was too much like Natasha. Only innocent and clean of the red that stained her parents hands.

"Not like he didn't know that it would happen eventually." she smiled gently. Clint's heartbreaking laugh morphed into a grimace and he sighed.

"He would've spoiled Leksi rotten." he chuckled wistfully.

"Yeah he would've." Natasha agreed quietly, fingers tracing absentminded patterns in her daughter's short brown hair.

"Aleksandra wouldn't even exist without him, and he never even got to meet her." he frowned. Natasha sighed and sat up, being careful not to jostle Aleks to much. Her hand splayed out across the baby's back to hold her in place as she used the other to push herself more smoothly off the bed. Natasha stepped in Clint's personal space and lifted her hand to the side of his tormented face. Aleksandra whined softly and Clint instinctively cupped his large hand around the back of her head, quieting her instantly.

"Phil would be proud of the man you've become." She whispered sincerely.

"He wouldn't. I haven't changed Tasha." He replied painfully. Natasha arched an eyebrow and glanced with meaningful disbelief down at the tiny baby in her arm. The pain intensified in his eyes and he leaned into Natasha's hand. She pulled away and shifted Aleks until she was in a better position from which Clint could take her.

"I have blood on my hands." He denied, taking a step back. The haunted look in his eyes made it clear that he meant more than in the literal sense.

"She doesn't care, Clint." She said fiercely. The archer sighed and watched as Natasha settled their daughter into the palms of his hands. She was so tiny.

The small baby girl, wrapped tightly in the red, white and blue blanket her godfather had given her, was resting in the palms of his hands, held away from his sweat drenched chest.

"You didn't kill him." Natasha whispered seriously.

"I may as well have."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I let Loki in Tasha." He breathed guiltily.

"Not your fault."

"I all but handed him over on a silver platter Natasha."

Natasha studied him for another minute before she stepped closer, forcing him to pull Aleksandra closer to his body.

"I forgive you. And so would he." She whispered the one thing she knew he couldn't deny. His shoulders sagged a little and Natasha took Aleks, gliding over to her crib in the corner before lowering the baby onto the pale blue mattress. She felt Clint behind her before she actually turned around. Natasha flattened her cold hand against his chest, feeling his erratically beating heart pulse under her fingers.

"Shower." She said simply, grabbing his hand and roughly dragging him across the floor into the bathroom.

"Tasha what're you...?" He asked in alarm as she closed the door quietly and flipped the lock.

"Shut up and strip Hawkeye." She growled under her breath as she pulled her v-neck top off over her head.

"But Aleks," he started.

"Will be fine. Jarvis will let us know if she wakes up." Natasha finished.

"What are doing Tasha?" He asked again.

"Tell me you want to be left alone and I'll leave." She whispered challengingly. He sighed and slid out of his basketball shorts.

They stepped into the oversized shower and Natasha pushed Clint back under the spray. Neither assassin's eyes wandered in slightest as she took his bloody hands and the washcloth they used on Aleks, rubbing it gently against his bloody and bruised knuckles until the physical blood was washed away. Clint watched her hands work and remained silent as she cleaned him up. Then when she had finished, he silently turned them until her bare back was up against his chest and reached for the shampoo. She didn't protest as he massaged the soap into her now mid shoulder blade length red hair.

"Tasha," he whispered in her ear. "I want to take her with us today."

"Okay." She agreed easily, turning around in the spray so that she could rinse the foam out. He nodded and they both stiffened as Jarvis' voice rang out over head.

"Agent Barton, I've been informed to notify you that Miss Barton has awakened."

"Me?" Clint arched an eyebrow. Natasha shrugged without opening her eyes or moving out from under the water.

"Applies to both of us doesn't it?" She murmured, rinsing the last of the soap from her hair.

Clint leaned forward and kissed her hard.

"Yeah. It does." He breathed.

"You go. I'm gonna finish up." She muttered against his lips. He nodded and stared at her suspiciously before grabbing his towel and stepping out.

Clint dressed quickly and swooped his fussing daughter out of her cradle.

"Hey there baby girl." He smiled gently as he swayed. Her cries quieted as she stared at him with big blue-grey eyes. He was humming softly before he really knew what he was doing. As his humming went on he slowly started to recognize the song and it sent another pang of guilt through his body.

Phil Coulson would hold to the claim that he never sang. When Clint had called him out on it one mission, long before Natasha had been inducted into their team, he had adamantly denied that he had been singing. Clint had let it go with a snicker about his being an old man, though the latent curiosity had never gone away. And now, he found himself singing the words to the song that he had never actively tried to memorize.

"Swing low, sweet chariot. Comin' for to carry me home..." He sang softly, watching as Aleks' tiny eyelids fluttered. "If you get there, before I do, Comin' for to carry me home, tell all my friends I'm comin' too, comin' for to carry me home," he inhaled shakily as he recalled Phil's voice singing the very words he was. "Swing low, sweet chariot, comin for to carry me home," he shifted one hand to lay on top of the baby's steadily rising and falling chest, gently fingering her cheek and smiling when he forehead crumpled in her sleep.

"He never admitted to singing that song." He chuckled to Natasha who had snuck up beside him.

"I know." She smiled, reaching around and brushing her hand over her baby's head.

"You want to dress her while I finish getting ready?" She asked lowly in his ear. He swallowed thickly and nodded, using all of his will power to step away from Natasha and walk through the door that led into their daughters adjoined nursery.

Holding her tightly to his toned chest, Clint moved over to the closet and picked out the first purple outfit he saw; even if Tasha would give him crap for it.

Unwrapping Aleksandra from the baby blanket she was secured in, he laid her down on the changing table as she started to fuss loudly.

He buttoned her into a slightly oversized dark lavender onesie that swallowed her tiny body and gently tugged a hat down over her light brown tufts of hair. It ended with Barton needing to roll it up a few times so that he could actually see her tightly shut eyelids. He took her captain America blanket and swaddled her tightly, effectively calming her down.

"Coulson would approve." Natasha laughed as Clint tucked the blanket tighter around her before lifting Aleksandra into his hands.

"Unhealthy obsession." Clint grumbled. Natasha smiled and reached around to pull down on her daughters hat.

"Arrogant Hawk." She smirked, smacking the back of his head.

"Ow Tasha." He grumbled childishly. He turned to see her in a pair of black skinny jeans and her leather jacket, staring at him without regret.

"Ready to head down?" She asked after another minute. He smiled in affirmation and readjusted Aleks' position in his arms as Natasha took his other hand and led the way out the door.

The second they stepped into the kitchen they were met with the sight of Steve dressed in black slacks and a grey button up, blue eyes lighting up hopefully when Clint and Natasha entered with his goddaughter. Bruce was coaching Tony through not burning the scrambled eggs sizzling in the pan. Thor was chatting softly with Jane while Pepper was seated at the kitchen table in a black dress, trying in vain to coax apple sauce into her one year old son.

Clint handed Aleks off to Steve, watching as she seemed to literally shrink in size in his palms. Natasha watched as he stalked over to stark and Banner, pushing them both out of the way as he finished cooking their breakfast. Natasha moved over to the fridge and pulled out one of the pre-made baby bottles that were there for babysitting purposes, and handed it to Steve who didn't look like he was going to be letting go of the baby girl anytime soon.

She then sat down across from Pepper, on TJ Stark's other side and watched in amusement as he adamantly refused his food.

"Nnnhho." He giggled, slapping his palm into the puddle of apple sauce, splattering his long sleeve dress shirt.

"Tony," Pepper called irritably. The billionaire appeared behind her in record time, kissing the top of her head. "You deal with your son. I'm going to go wash apple sauce out of my hair and try to appear somewhat decent looking." She said finally and stood up, leaving Tony staring at his smiling toddler.

"Yeah kid. You think pissing off mom is so funny. Just wait a few years." He grumbled, sitting down and staring at the mess of apple purée.

"Momma pissssss." The boy gurgled. Tony's eyes went wide.

"Oh." Natasha laughed darkly. "You're screwed, Stark." She smirked sadistically, standing again and ruffling her nephews hair.

"Hey Foster," she called as she crossed her arms and moved closer to the scientist and her husband.

"Yep?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Barton wants to bring Aleks along so you're free of babysitting duty." She said without any inflection. Jane grinned and nodded.

"I don't mind." She insisted. Natasha just smiled and took the empty seat between Thor and Cap.

"She's hungry." Steve noted fondly, watching the newborn drain the bottle in his hand. Natasha nodded and watched her husband as he carried the eggs and a plate of pancakes to the table.

"I'll take her back while you eat, Cap." She held her arms out and watched as he reluctantly and gently to a point of reverence, transferred Aleksandra to her mothers arms. Clint grabbed two apples and tossed one to his wife who caught it effortlessly.

"Nat an I are gonna head out. See you there?" He called to the team, picking up the black backpack they used for Aleksandra's diaper bag. Tony waved and grumbled incoherently through a mouthful of food.

"We'll be right behind you." Bruce called after them. Clint smiled weakly over his shoulder and followed Natasha out the door.

They made their way down into the cold garage and gravitated immediately towards their red Acura, Clint climbing into the drivers seat as Natasha carefully buckled her daughter into her carseat, and tucked another blanket around her tiny body before strapping into the passenger seat and nodding at Clint who through the car into drive and sped out of the garage.

They were immediately pelted with rain and met with the darkness of a coming storm. Aleks whimpered softly from the back seat and Natasha tensed, waiting to see if she'd go back to sleep, only relaxing when she did.

"You don't have to do this, you know." She said gently, reaching over and pulling his hand free of the white knuckled grip on the armrest.

"You know that I do." He said tightly. "He's been gone almost a year, Tasha. If I'm not ready, I never will be. He deserves more than my blowing off his funeral."

The redhead squeezed his hand as her only reply and kept an eye on the flooded road.

They reached Arlington Cemetary within the hour, where Phil was only being buried because of certain strings pulled and hackers used by the Director himself. SHIELD didn't exist, and therefore neither didn't Agent Phil Coulson.

Before he pulled his baby girl's carseat out of the backseat, he flipped the visor down to protect her body from the rain coming down on them and shoved his sunglasses onto his face despite the dark weather.

There were a grand total of two people there when Clint and Natasha arrived, Agent Hill and Director Fury being among the small handful of people who knew of his existence and had grown to be friends with him. Clint shifted Aleksandra's carrier in his hand as he observed the grim faces of his bosses and turned to find the closed casket containing his best friend and brother.

His bosses only nodded and the assassin's nodded back, but no words were exchanged.

Not even when the small Stark family appeared; TJ clinging tightly to his mother and Tony walking behind them, holding a black umbrella. Bruce was close behind, not minding the rain soaking through his khaki jacket and dark brown hair. Thor and Jane were next, the rain suspiciously missing Janes body as she shivered under Thor's arm. And Steve was last, looking almost as grim as the two other SHIELD agents.

"Barton," Fury started lowly. "If you'd like to start." He continued, nodding to the podium. Clint took a deep shaky breath and nodded, passing Aleksandra's carseat over to his wife, squeezing her hand tightly before letting go and walking forward.

Natasha watched Clint intently as he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, only looking away to nod gratefully at Steve when he stepped up beside her, moving his umbrella sideways so that he was shielding both Barton girls from the rain. As Clint got ready to start his speech, Aleksandra started to cry softly from her carseat-turned-nest, which led to her mom setting it on the soggy ground and disentangeling her swaddled body from the many blankets, holding her tightly to her chest.

"You know," Clint started roughly. Aleks quieted instantly at the sound of her dad's voice.

Daddy's girl.

"Phil Coulson was an idiot." he said seriously, tracking a hand back through his hair. "The guy had a million ties and loved them more than his car. And anyone who knew him, knows that is saying something." he chuckled into the microphone, only to sober immediately and look down with agonized eyes. "But then, he always told me there was a fine line between bravery and stupidity. So which does that make him?" he asked rhetorically. "Either way, I owe my life to the man. He brought me in. Did a da-" his eyes fell on TJ who was watching sleepily, head pillowed on his dad's shoulder. "Darn good job of shaping me up and protecting me, even if I didn't deserve it." he met Natasha's eyes and swallowed thickly. "He always believed anyone, no matter what you'd done in the past as long as you were trying your hardest to make it right now, deserved a second chance and deserved to be happy." Natasha's eyes didn't waver from him as he repeated the very words Coulson had told her on a roof in Argentina.

Rain was soaking through his black leather jacket, and dripping from his hair. "And because of him, I'm married." He smiled weakly. "With a daughter." He looked up at the rain and shut his eyes tightly before continuing. "He knew I proposed to her. Long before the avengers. I'd already asked him to be my best man. He accepted, of course." His nostalgic smile tightened. "And he'll never meet Aleksandra. But he was the best man I ever had the pleasure of working with. And all I can say is at least he died honorably. We don't all get that. And he of all people deserved it." Clint cleared his throat and smiled tightly, nodding at everyone before stepping down from the podium and taking his spot by Natasha again. With one hand on Natasha's lower back, Clint leaned around to press a long kiss to Aleksandra's head. Natasha could feel the slight shaking of the bruising pressure he was applying to her hip, and stiffened slightly, knowing he would break down sooner rather than later.

The Barton family stood ramrod straight, listening and watching quietly as the rest of the men, plus Maria Hill, spoke about their fallen friend.

But none of them knew Phil like Clint did.

Not a single one.

Not even Natasha. But she was easily second.

And when the service had ended, and they had lower Phil Coulson's body into the ground, the people filed out, one by one, slapping Clint's shoulder as they passed. Bruce stopped at the man's shoulder and lowered his voice.

"Are you coming back tonight?" he asked quietly.

"We need to go home for a few days." Clint spoke through gritted teeth.

"Do what you have to do." Bruce replied. "So long as you come back eventually." He added, squeezing his friend's shoulder once more before following after Tony.

Clint slid Aleks out of Natasha's arms and held the baby girl tightly to his chest, pulling his leather jacket over her body to shield her from the rain. He dipped his head and took Natasha's hand, threading their fingers together before pulling her forward.

"Hey Phil." He said quietly. So quietly that Natasha had to strain her ears to hear him over the pounding rain. Natasha squeezed his hand reassuringly. He glanced down at Aleks who was whimpering in response to the cold, eyes squeezing shut, tiny lips parted. "This is Aleksandra Katherine Barton." He smiled gently. "You were right." He chuckled lowly, staring at the granite headstone. Natasha brought their hands up and kissed their interlaced fingers. Natasha dropped down to one knee in the wet grass and put a hand on top of the slab of stone.

"Thanks Phil." She said simply before standing and taking Aleks back from Clint. She encased the baby in her toned arms and kissed Clint gently. "We'll wait for you in the car." She whispered. He nodded and followed her with his eyes as she picked up the car seat and walked back to the car. He fell to the ground hard and traced the engraved lettering with his calloused fingers.

"I miss you, Phil." He sighed painfully. "You were right about me. We got married. And Aleks…" he trailed off with a small smile. "She's beautiful, Phil. I wish she'd have gotten the chance to meet you. But she wouldn't even exist if you hadn't stalled Loki, saved us all." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'll take care of Juliana." He swore. "Izzy too." He breathed. "I've got your back, Coulson." He sighed, patting the headstone as he stood up. "Bye Phil."

Hawkeye stuffed his hands deep in his pockets and walked out to the parking lot. Natasha was leaning against the passenger door, watching him steadily as he neared her.

"Aleks strapped in?" he asked. She nodded once. "Ready to go home?" he asked, burying his face in the side of her neck. She nodded.

"You want to go see her?" she assumed softly. He nodded.

"Julia deserves to find out from someone she trusts." He breathed. "She thinks he's on an extended mission." He grimaced. Natasha carded a hand through his hair and nodded gently.

"I'll drive."

He nodded in agreement and slid into the passenger seat, leaning his head against the window as Natasha pulled out of the cemetery.

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