Clint Barton's house was like something out a movie. A rustic farmhouse sitting on a beautiful bed of scenic land that seemed to stretch for miles. The house was large enough for the family growing within it, and raidatied warmth from every corner and crevice inside. The porch that wrapped around the front of the house, was wide and overlooked the stunning land that spilled outward, until it soon blended into the dark tree line. It was a painting coming to life before every eye that saw it, it's raw and natual beauty jumping out instantly to all those who stood amung it.

But for Steve Rogers... Clint's perfect home was a dream he had once, years and years ago. One that he had always invisioned coming true one day. But that dream faded long ago, and only now as Steve looked out the window from inside the beautiful family home, did he feel a sliver of what it would've felt like if his dream had come true all those decades ago.

Clint's secret and near perfect family, made Steve think of the family he could've had, if he had never become the hero every one saw him as today. He saw himself returning home from the war, and settling down with a woman who made his heart feel completely whole. He saw himself building a house just like this, one that could overlook the sun rising in the early dawn and setting just over a hill in the distance. He saw the children he would bare, running barefoot and giggling away up and down the halls. Their smiles and their laughs echoing in his head and in his heart. He saw himself sitting out on the porch as his skin turned old and grey, his wife beside him as they watched their grandkids run and play in the long grass before them. He saw a life flash before his eyes, one he wondered if he could've had and sometimes still deeply wished for. It was a beautiful life... and if he couldn't ever experience it, he was happy that Clint could. 

As a deep sigh escapes past Steve lips, his eyes that gaze out at the far stretched land out the window, spot something. On the many long steps that lead up to the front door, Steve's eyes fall upon a figure slumped forward. With their elbows resting weakly on their knees, as their head fell into their open palms. He watched with softened eyes as he immediately recognized the figure, although it was only her back that faced him from where he stood in the window watching. But it was all of her that Steve needed to see. 

He knew the blonde hair that blew haphazardly in the warm breeze, and seemed to tangle itself around her tense neck. He knew the way she held her body when she was deep in thought or lost in a memory too far to reach. He knew just about everything there was to know about her... and it didn't matter where in the world they were, he would always be able to pick her out of a crowd of a thousand people without a second glance. 

No one had made it out unscathed by the female twin's mind games. And even as Steve continued to shake away the unsettling sensation in his bones, from the too real dream she had placed in his head, he saw that the woman sitting out on the front porch steps alone was affected worse than he was. 

His boots seemed thunderous against the hardwood flooring of the house, and he felt as though each step he took and every move he made would in some way damage the beautiful home. But he still walked swiftly down the staircase and straight through to the front door. Peaking through the small window of glass as his hand slid around the knob, Steve gazed at the woman still sitting where she had been. Unmoved.

And as quietly as he could, as not to startle or frighten her by the sudden noise, Steve slowly opened the front door. The fresh air of the land around him filling his senses instantly, and there was a welcome clarity that came with the clean air. His footsteps seemed less heavy as he walked across the wide porch, and came to a swift halt as he reached the beginning of the steps. Leaning his hip against the frame of the porch, as his kind blue eyes swept over the woman he shadowed behind. 

"I'm not quite in the mood to be snuck up on today," She murmured under her breath, and Steve was taken a back for a moment. Not realizing she had known he suddenly stood behind her, for she hadn't moved not even an inch when he walked out. 

"That was never my intention."

Her tightly wound body finally moved as her head slowly lifted, and turned in a faint motion to look at him over her shoulder. And even as her hair shielded most of her face, Steve could still see the redness and swollenness that encompassed her beautiful hazel eyes. 

"If you're going to just stand there, you might as well come sit down. You're making me anxious."

Even as he saw the evident pain in her eyes, she still had her quick quips. She was shaken from whatever she had seen in her dream, but it hadn't seemed to change her brazen remarks that from time to time made Steve Rogers blush. And for that, he was thankful. 

With a faint nod of his head, Steve pushed himself gently off of the wooden post and walked the few remaining steps to the top step she herself sat on. Sitting down in the space provided next to her, small and slightly cramped against the wooden post, and yet when he looked over at her, there wasn't any other place he would rather be.  

"I know what you're thinking," She spoke softly, and looked the opposite way as to avoid Steve's careful gaze. He could hear the way she tried to detach her emotions from the comment, but it wasn't as successful as she had hoped. He could still hear the vulnerability and the frightened tones shake in her low voice. 

"I'm not thinking anything." Steve assured her kindly, and it was then that she swung her head to face him. Her glossy eyes looking straight at him, scrutinizing his words.

She shook her head after a moment, brushing some of the honey blond strands from their place along her right shoulder. "Almost everyone went down on that call, everyone had something placed in their head by that witch. And yet, I'm the only one out here still completely trembling and crying about it."

Steve listened intently to her heavy words, and it pained his heart to hear the dismay in her voice. The way she saw herself with such disappointment. 

"I know I'm the weakest one, and I think I always have been. But today--" She shook her head, as her it fell once again into the open palms of her waiting hands. 

"Hey," Steve reached out, and gently touched her wrist. Causing her head to slowly raise, and she looked at him with red-rimmed eyes that glistened with tears that screamed to be let free. "you're not weak. Not in the slightest."

She laughed coldly for a short second at his remark, "Look at me Steve, I'm still a mess. But you, and Tony and even Nat have sucked it up and moved on. But silly old me is sitting out here like some kind of wuss crying about it."

Steve shook his head, "Maybe that's the way you see it, but I can tell you with certainty that no one has simply moved on from what we were shown. We just have a way of shoving things so far down that we hope they'll just disappear. But you, you embrace and you actually allow yourself to feel it. You think you're weak for shedding tears and still shaking over something that frightened you, but I think it's brave."

"It's brave to allow yourself to be vulnerable, especially when you're in the midst of others who simply lock their feelings away."

Her eyes burned holes into Steve as she stared steadily at him as he spoke, as though she was trying to read his face for any sign of dishonesty in his words. But as he finished and she came up empty handed, she took the first deep breath since she came outside. Something about his words calming her like a balm over her aching wounds. 

"It was you," She croaked suddenly, her voice breaking under the weight of her tears. "in my dream. It was you."

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and turned her head slightly, but not far enough for Steve still saw the tears beginning to roll down her reddened face. 

"You were laying in front of me," She cried softly as her eyes continued to stay shut. "the floor was completely stained red from your blood. It was pooling around your body, making your suit and my knees sticky as I knelt down beside you."

"I tried to apply pressure to your wound, but all it did was rush blood out faster. It flowed through my fingers like a stream, never seeming to end. I could barely make out my hands they were so stained by your blood."

Steve's heart ached and his breathing became harder as he listened to her talk, and as badly as he wanted to interrupt her and remind her that it was all a dream, he let her tell him. Because he knew she needed it, she needed to say the story out loud. As though to release some of the excruciating pain that it caused within her.

"And your face, it was so pale. I thought you were already gone, you looked like a ghost. But your eyes opened and they looked right at me. It was like having knives stab me through my chest, the way your eyes looked at me. So piercingly deep."

Her eyes opened as she looked down at her hands, "Your lips began to move, I could see you trying to form the words. And yet nothing came out. It was the most painful silence I'd ever experienced."

"Eventually," She took a deep breath. "my voice broke through the suffocating quiet. I was screaming your name over and over again, but you looked at me like you simply couldn't hear me. I screamed at the top of my lungs, until my voice nearly went hoarse, but you just stared at me with this blank look on your face."

"You faded in front of me and there wasn't a thing I could do about it."

She grew quiet as she finished, but even as no words or even sobs escaped past her nervously chewed lips, her pain spoke volumes. And everything inside of him wanted nothing more than to take all of that pain, all of that anguish, and take it upon himself. 

Her fear was losing him... but he realized he dreaded seeing her in pain even more.

Steve looked out at the vast rolling green land before him, before looking back down at the woman sitting shaken beside him. And reaching out his left arm, he softly wraps it around her. Pulling her gently towards his side, and wrapping her completely in his warm and safe embrace. He could feel the way she breathed deeper as he held her, and the way her muscles began to release their built up tension slowly. And closing his own eyes for a moment, he leaned his head towards hers, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her temple. His lips stayed there for a moment, as though through the tender touch he could somehow soak up her fears and take them with him. 

As they sat there, watching the sun bathe the spotless land in a warm glow, Steve thought back to her words. She thought she was weak, she thought she was the weakest link among all of them. When in fact, she might as well be the strongest one. For Steve knew, if he had had the same dream, but it was him that had to watch her die without anything he could do, he wouldn't be standing strong the way he somehow was right now. He wouldn't be able to be the one to comfort and reassure.  

She was stronger than him... but witnessing her strength first hand... only made Steve strive to become stronger. For himself and for the team... but most importantly, for her.

A/N: I'd been trying to write this one for a while, as I loved the idea when it came to me. And as I have continued to work on this, and let the writing go where it wanted to go, I am so unbelievably happy with what came out! I hope you all enjoyed this one, I'm so proud of it!!❤