It takes a few more days, but Clint manages to get on his feet once more. The Avengers all get called away about a week into his recovery, and after much assurance that he won't die, they answer the call. After their departure, Clint is generally left alone, the doctor, Simmons comes to check on him twice a day but she's his only visitor. About a week and a half after his attack, Clint manages to get up from his bed. It's painful to move, but the pain is at a level he is used to enduring. He moves about the room, finding that the dresser is stocked with standard shield uniforms in his size, he changes into them. Another sweep of the room and he finds a couple of guns, holsters, a pair of knives and their sheaves, and finally his bow and quiver which was stashed under his bed. He straps the various weapons to his body, then with a slight limp, he wanders into the hallway.

He meets very few agents in the hallways and those that he does see, he doesn't recognize. He knows that they recognize him, one of the things he hates most about being an Avenger, but they thankfully leave him alone. He walks down the familiar hallways, but he finds himself lost as he attempts to locate the shooting range. He has to stop every few minutes to lean against the wall and take deep breathes. He knows that he shouldn't be out of bed, his entire body is in protest of his movements, but he can't stay in that room any longer. He'll go insane if he continues to only have his thoughts as company. So he pushes through the pain, it isn't too hard for short periods of time, he had trained himself years before to deal with pain. It was often essential for his survival that he could push through anything, the one thing that is currently affecting this skill is the lack of adrenaline in his body. It's much harder to keep moving when every part of his mind is screaming that he is safe and that he shouldn't move. But somehow he manages, and he manages to find the shooting range. He had taken a wrong hallway, his usual quarters at the base were not where he was currently being housed and the change had thrown off his mental map of the building.

When he reaches the range, he programs the targets to be moving. He then locks himself in the room. He pulls out his bow and with a precision that can only come from intense practice and natural skill, he begins taking out the targets. The repetitive action of pulling back his bow is soothing, it settles his restless mind and allows him to focus. He shoots the entire quiver of arrows, then retrieves them, only to begin again. He empties the quiver five times before he begins to feel as if he's being watched. He shakes the feeling off as old paranoia and keeps shooting but it doesn't go away. Finally, with his last arrow, he spins and shoots toward the observation window, the glass surprisingly shatters. Clint had thought it would be bulletproof. But his shock doesn't come even close to rivaling that of those who had been watching him. He watches as Coulson, May, Bobbi, the doctor Simmons and her counterpart Fittz, Mack, Hunter and the girl Coulson had adopted as the "new Clint", all slowly stand up. His arrow had been unexpected by all, including himself. He hadn't conciously decided to shoot the window, the action had simply been a reflex. He felt as if he was being watched from that direction so he took the shot to confirm the feeling.

Clint watches a sheepish smile slowly spreads across Coulson's face. Clint is reminded of a look his son had often given him when Clint had caught him eating sweets before dinner. The memory is blinding, and it causes him more pain than if someone had just stabbed him in the back. He feels his leg give out from underneath him, and suddenly his face hits the floor. He doesn't even attempt to get up, he feels that his nose has just broken so he rolls onto his side but he just allows it to bleed. He doesn't have any energy to move, his entire mind is frozen by the grief remembering his son has caused him. It takes a full minute before he's able to get himself up into a sitting position. By that time, the doctor has already arrived. She begins scolding him for being out of bed, not realizing that his collapse wasn't due to his physical injuries. He allows her to baby him for only a few seconds before pushing her away. He scoots himself back and stands up, wincing as he pinches his nose in an attempt to stop the blood flow.

"I'm fine." He says to her, the words coming out garbled due to the blood currently clogging his throat. He clears his throat, spitting it onto the ground. He then carefully resets his nose, as he's done so many times before. He grimaces as the cartilage moves but the pain is quickly gone. He collects his bow and straps it to his back. He then begins collecting his arrows from around the room taking particular care to demonstrate just how uninjured he wants to appear. He hears the doctor hem and haw, but overall she seems to accept that he won't allow her to help him. By accident, he looks toward Coulson, and he knows that he hasn't fooled him. But he doesn't care, Coulson is no longer his keeper. He owes the man nothing, and he doesn't have to listen to him. When his arrows are collected, he exits the room altogether. Had he not been interrupted by them watching him, he probably would have shot for another few hours as he was just getting warmed up. But now he has no desire to shoot, so he heads for the nearest workout room. This one has no windows, and it has a lock on the door which he bolts. He then begins punching anything he can find. The workout is rhythmic and in perfect form, but it's also his way of blowing off some steam. He punches, kicks, and generally works on his fighting technique until he physically can not continue. When he's done, he just collapses in the middle of the room. All the thoughts he was trying to avoid catch up to him, and suddenly overwhelm him. So he pulls his knees to his chest and does the one thing that disgusts him and sobs. He sobs until the tears will no longer come. He then slowly collects himself, locking all his thoughts away, and readjusting his mind to adapt to the physical pain he is in, he manages to get himself up off the floor. He finds that his stomach is ravenously growling, so with a final sigh of collection, he starts toward the door in an effort to find something to eat.