A/N: Guess what, guys? In honor of 2018 starting, it's time to FINALLY bring this story to an end! (BEEEEEAMS) Hooray…?

FIRST, though…! THANK YOU, so very much, for all your reviews and support! They're what have carried this story so far, you know? (HUGS)

Awkay, because I left you on a MEAN cliffie and I know that you want to see what happens next… LET'S GO! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

Chapter 10 of 10 – Lay Your Ghosts to Rest

/ As it turned out, getting kicked out by his adoptive parents was the best thing that'd happened to Will since Clint told him to leave. There, away from all the memories and so-called friends who meant nothing but trouble, he was able to breathe again. He went to therapy out of his own free will. Started rehab. And this time he succeeded, because he was doing it honestly, just for himself.

Some of the person he was while drunk or high remained, lingered behind like a ghost. When he wanted to be, he was a witty and sarcastic young man. Which earned him a few friends. Not friends for life, and not such who would've really known him. But at least he wasn't lonely anymore.

Knowing that he needed something to blow off the steam, ache, cravings and rage that threatened to bubble over, he decided on hobbies that were probably bad ideas. Such as martial arts and shooting. And, since he didn't have his adoptive parents' wealth to support and trap him anymore, he started working as a barista at a café near his university.

One evening, not much before Christmas, his eyes caught a pair of hazel ones looking right back with open curiosity. The girl was incredibly beautiful with her long, wavy hair and mocha-colored skin. He could've sworn that his heart, which was supposed to be all fixed, skipped a couple of beats when she smiled.

Once she left he not only found a generous tip. But also an incredibly skilled draft of his face, along with a message. 'I don't think I got your eyes quite right. If you don't mind me trying to draw you again, have coffee with me tomorrow.'

Unable to even consider any other option, Will sat to her table the following evening. And smiled honestly for the first time in… forever. "Hey. I'm Will."

She grinned. "Leah. And since my suggestion didn't freak you out, I'll risk buying you coffee as a thank you."

Two months later a man he'd never met before approached him at a shooting range. "I've been observing you for a while. And I'd like to make use of talent like that." A card was handed towards him.

Will frowned, tempted but healthily hesitant. The knowledge that he'd been watched by someone who looked too much like his adoptive father didn't sit well with him. "What's this?"

"A job offer." The older man tilted his head. "Would you like to find out what IMF is?"

With those two meetings Will's new life began. /

/ Clint was barely even eighteen when he found himself stuck in a bit of a trouble. Again. Because he'd messed up. Again. And it looked like this time it'd cost him his freedom.

When a man he'd never met before entered the room he first imagined that it was someone from the police. Only… This arrival's suit looked curiously expensive.

He followed with sharp, mistrusting eyes as the man claimed the seat beside his hospital bed like someone who belonged there and began to flip through a file. It took torturously long before the arrival spoke. "You… have been busy, kid. So far you've been connected to having robbed five extremely wealthy criminals. And that's just scratching the surface." The man pointed towards the bruises all over the boy's face and winced. "You've succeeded in fleeing the law so many times that I guess they started taking it personally. I need to have a chat about rough handling with the guys who arrested you."

Clint's eyebrow bounced up while he wondered if the man thought he was stupid enough to believe that the other gave a damn.

Undiscouraged by his lack of verbal response, the stranger began to skim through the file once more. "Archery… You're not too shabby with a handgun and knives, either. And from the looks of it you're quite an acrobat." The man pursed his lips. "Makes me wonder… Last night you took down five heavily armed bodyguards… but it didn't take more than two police officers to arrest you?"

Clint shrugged. He didn't like the knowing look on the stranger's face. "Didn't feel like getting myself into even more trouble." His eyebrows furrowed. "Who are you? And what do you want from me?" Subtlety had never been his forte. Especially not now, with how unnerved he was by the fact that this guy and… whoever he worked for had been able to keep an eye on him.

The man seemed amused, rather than insulted. Almost like having expected his response. "I'm Phil Coulson. And I have a job offer for you."

Clint snorted with disbelief. He yanked at the handcuff that fastened him to the bed. "They told you that they'll throw me to jail as soon as I'm recovered enough, right?"

Phil grinned. "Get yourself free from the cuffs in under a minute… and maybe there's something I can do to keep you out of jail. And don't insult us both by claiming that you wouldn't know how to. I've seen your file."

In forty seconds Clint's new life began. /

It was far too sunny for a day of funeral. A very small group of grim-faced people had huddled together and watched as a coffin was lowered to the ground. The size of the audience wouldn't have bothered the person lay in the wooden box, who'd never been a fan of crowds.

"… gathered here today to …"

A warm breath of wind blew, caressed a pair of hellishly stinging eyes soothingly. It did little to ease the searing sensation. But the shoulders that'd slumped under the weight of the whole world relaxed ever so slightly, a small portion of the burden carried away by the wind.

Clint drew in a deep, shuddering breath that did his slowly healing wound no favors. Technically, he should've still been in a hospital. But this was far more important.

At very least he wanted to say goodbye properly, after all the lost time.

The priest continued to speak hollow words. Soon enough dirt covered to coffin entirely. Shortly after the group of friends surrounding him took their distance, staying far enough to allow privacy but close enough to be there if they were needed.

Something moist traveled down Clint's cheeks, and he wondered if started to rain, after all. His mouth opened but in the end nothing came out. There was so much he would've wanted to say. But then again… What difference would words make now?

He shivered when, without a warning, a hand grabbed his. Instantly on guard, he glanced towards the limb. It was less calloused than his archery-hardened one but otherwise nearly identical. Warm. Solid. Real. Looking up once more, he discovered whatever it was he felt was reflected in Will's eyes. Grief… Remorse… Longing… But also a touch of hope and relief.

They'd done so many things wrong in their lives. Stumbled and fallen, forced themselves back up over and over again. But now, they'd done at least one more thing right. Their mother had finally been laid to rest. They could only hope that she was proud of them, wherever she was.

Clint squeezed Will's hand back, and they came to a silent agreement that not another word needed to be said.

It was most likely simply a trick caused by light and residual moisture from three days of rain, of course. But if one looked closely enough, there seemed to be a ghost-like figure stood by the cemetery's gate. With a smile on her face.

The two teams gave their grieving friends fifteen more minutes before Tony finally approached. "So… Shawarma?" the billionaire suggested hopefully.

The twins had never seemed more identical than they did upon rolling their eyes and trying hard not to seem amused.

Steve and Ethan took the lead silently, as they often did. Leading their troupes out of the hurricane that'd been blowing since the twins were reunited. Tony and Benji remained close, babbling excitedly and talking over each other as they planned on something that probably promised bad news. Jane and Natasha lingered behind, watching their backs. Wanda walked close to Clint and held his hand without even noticing it, still needing the reassurance that she hadn't lost him.

True, the brothers still had a mountain of issues to sort out. And things would probably always be… complicated between them. But they weren't alone in the world, like they once thought they were. The comfort of that realization wrapped around them both like a blanket.

Two months later Barney Barton was drinking himself to oblivion at one of his favorite bars. Which he'd been doing far too frequently lately, a very annoying, sharp voice in the back of his head pointed out. (A voice that sounded too much like both his mother and Clint.) He'd imagined that the attack on his so-called, failure of a brother would set him free of the bitter taste that'd been sitting in his throat since he walked away from the Carnival. No such luck.

Every time he fell asleep he dreamt of his adoptive brother. Every time he looked into a mirror he saw the face of that little boy he once left behind, who refused to go with him. By now he'd lost track on how many mirrors he'd shattered.

Whether he'd succeeded in killing Clint or not, the man's ghost was alive and well in his head, and he had no idea what to do about it.

He shivered when a drink was placed on in front of his drumming fingers. The bartender responded to his nearly hostile, demanding glare with a nod to the right. "The lady over there wanted to say 'Hi'."

Barney was brooding, true. But he was also a man with… a healthy appetite. Curiosity and something else rising, he craned his neck towards the mentioned direction. Just in time to see a woman with the perfect figure and long, black hair walking away. Never one to refuse tempting offers, he downed the gift-drink with one gulp and rushed to motion, primal urges leading the way.

His knees began to turn to rubber just as he reached the woman. In a flash a pair of arms wrapped around him, making it seem like they were locked to a heated embrace. He almost got a good luck at her face, until she moved her head to whisper in his ear. "Shh… Just go to sleep. You'll get a surprise when you wake up."

Darkness swallowed him up.

When he woke up he was in a room he'd never seen before. And Clint stood only five steps away from the bed he'd been placed to. Barney needed no further trigger. With a clumsy hand, his head only just waking up, he grabbed a gun and fired several shots. Several seconds later he realized that even a single bullet didn't actually fly.

The other man's eyebrow arched. "Really? You thought I'd leave you with a functional firearm?"

Barney's heart thudded as the gravity of the situation began to register to him. He clenched his jaw. "If you're going to kill me… Just do it."

"No. I'm not going to kill you." The other took a step closer, which was when Barney became aware of the plexi-glass separating them. And realized that he couldn't recognize the eyes looking back at him. "I'm going to make you disappear. Because no matter how many times Clint already has and would try to reason with you, it wouldn't make any difference." The man, Will, tilted his head. "Did you really think that I wasn't keeping an eye on you? That I wouldn't find out about the plans you had for his family?" The agent's eyes flashed. "After everything you've already put him through… I'm not letting you hurt his wife and kids. I've already let down three families. I'm not about to fail with his." With that the agent was walking away.

"Hey!" Barney slammed his fist against the plexi-glass, panic rising. "You can't just leave me here, you asshole! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME HERE!"

A door slammed closed.

Natasha was waiting when Will left the room, the black wig she wore earlier in a careless yet elegant hold. She gave him a sharp look. "Well?"

Will sighed heavily. He still wasn't quite recovered from the heart-surgery and the events before, as well as after, it. Today had been too exciting. "He's awake. And unhappy."

Only a careful pair of eyes caught the barely visible hint of softening in Natasha's eyes. "This was the only way", she pointed out. "Fury will make sure that he has everything he needs."

On a level of reason Will knew that it was better than Barney deserved. Still… "I'd appreciate it if…"

"Don't worry. This'll stay between us and Fury", Natasha assured him. They exchanged nods, and he was already walking away before she went on. "You should tell Clint, you know. About Leah and Serena."

Will shuddered, not having expected that although he should've. He gritted his teeth, the ache still fresh despite all the years that'd flown by. "I will." And he would, just… not today. Or tomorrow. "When I'm ready." He chose to switch the topic before the pain would become unbearable. "Thanks for helping me today."

Natasha shrugged. Was that… the beginning of a smile? "I think we're both on the same page, wanting to keep that idiot as safe as he can be." Which was quite possibly the biggest sign of trust she could give. And he realized that after everything he'd lost – adoptive parents who never really took him in, friends, mom, wife, child – he now had a bigger family than ever in his life.

It felt incredibly good, Will concluded silently, to not be alone in the world anymore.

Three more months flew by. A warm breath of wind made its way to the Farm as the door opened. "Honey, I'm home! And I didn't come alone."

The thundering steps of Lila and Cooper were the first response Clint received. Smiling, Laura picked up Nate and whispered to her youngest's ear. "C'mon, little troublemaker. Let's go see uncle Will."

By the time she made it to the door Will was already facing an onslaught of questions, from both Lila who was in her daddy's arms and Cooper who stood a slight distance away. Clearly the identical appearance to their dad's helped the usually reserved kids to relax.

Will noticed her quickly, of course. There was something almost shy to the nod he offered as a greeting. "Hey."

"Hey." Laura was amazed by how someone who looked just like her husband could seem so different. "I was already starting to wonder if you'd ever dare to visit."

Will's smile was tiny but it reached his eyes.

A year later the twins stood in front of a grave. Yet again. Just like the previous time, neither felt any particular need to say a thing.

As they both lay down a single rose, Will introduced Clint to his family. And not for the first nor last time wished that they would've had the chance to actually meet. Leah would've liked Clint.

With his flower Will swore to keep on fighting and truly living. He wished from the bottom of his broken but still beating heart that his dearest ones would have the patience to keep waiting for him. And with his flower Clint promised that he'd do whatever was in his power to look out for the man those two had to leave behind. Now that they'd found each other again.

There'd always be a rift between them, caused by all the years they spent apart and all the harsh lessons they learned throughout that time. But come what may, they'd never chase each other away again. They'd never imagine that they were all alone in the world again.

As the twins walked away eventually one could, just barely, see the young innocent boys they once were in their shadows. Warm wind ushered them forward.

End

A/N: AAAAAND, thus concludes this tale that began A LONG time ago. Not a fairytale ending, for sure, but still a happy one. The twins are still alive, still together, and they won't let go again.

SOOOOO… Was that any good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know!

And THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking around through this whole, LONG ride! It's thanks you guys the story was allowed to reach its end. (HUGS)

Who knows, maybe I'll see you again one day.

Take care!