The dripping blood of his sword mixed with the tropical rainwater falling around him. Garish neon lights flashed ugly on the puddles of blood and water. Bodies lay strewn about like piles of broken toys.

The roar of the tractor obscured most of the sounds of the early morning. With a contented sigh and the fresh smell of last night's rain, Clint sat upon the old John Deer and drove steadily forward, cutting neat rows into deep soil preparing for the spring sewing. Barton didn't miss Avenging; he was finally at rest with that part of his life. Breath condensing in the cool air; he felt at peace.

A feeling hit him unexpectedly, the sky tinted a weird purple then white but there were no thunderstorms in the area. There was a abnormal turn in the wind, a smell of decay that was a counterpoint to the living, clean odor of turned soil.

Clint abruptly felt like he should get home.

"Laura? Nate?" he yelled loudly from the front yard. Something horrible had just occurred. He knew it.

"Cooper!" he bellowed feeling his guts clench in terror.

"LILA!" he was screaming now at the threshold of the house.

It was absolutely silent.

The world tilted, blood rushing in his ears, gulping breaths he saw two piles of what looked like dust in the front room, surrounded by baby toys. Bending down he didn't want to touch the smallest mound of fine grey powder.

A sob choked in his throat; a horrible guttural sound.

Ripping his eyes away, he dashed up the stairs in huge bounds, the staircase booming with his footsteps in time with his heart.

Two more heaps of dust were in Lila and Cooper's room.

Stunned, he backed away from their doors, dropping to his knees in the hallway and was utterly silent.

Natasha saw him there, rain dribbling carelessly down his body like someone who has nothing to live for. The sword was wedged in his elbow as he cleaned the blade.

He heard her, the drops on her umbrella making a distinct pitter patter sound that reminded him of rain on the windowsill at his home, baby Nate gurgling in delight at the water trickling down the glass in shiny rivulets.

Nate. Cooper. Lila. Laura.

Natasha said nothing because words would fail. There were none for the scope of his loss.

Finally, he pivoted on his heel, pulling back his hood and looked at her. Natasha caught her breath. Over her long career, she had seen many things but the pain in his eyes was beyond compare. Rain coursed down his new mohawk haircut, flowing down the shaved sides of his head providing the tears he stopped crying four years ago when he chose this darker path.

Reaching out, she simply took his hand. His fingers twitched, a reminder that they once worked closely together and only she could and would even possibly understand.

Natasha held his gaze and thought deeply there was four more reasons for Thanos to pay.