Avengers-endgame ›

“Yeah. For another hour, maybe.”

He should leave. He’d said his goodbyes. But his boots stayed nailed to the wood.

Behind them, the quantum tunnel flared to life. Through the trees, he saw Steve Rogers step out, shield on his arm, beard gone, chin high. Natasha wasn’t there. She would never be there. But Clint felt her hand on his shoulder for just a second—light, certain, gone. avengers-endgame

Clint stood.

Clint’s throat closed.

The lake was still. So still that the reflection of the cabin didn’t ripple, and the stars looked like pinned needles of light in a frozen sky. Clint sat on the dock, feet inches above the water, and watched the suitcases by the cabin door. The years had taught him that silence wasn’t empty. It was just waiting.

“One more,” Tony agreed. And then, quieter: “For her. For all of them.” “Yeah

“You look like hell,” Tony said, landing soft on the dock.