[Ahh I liked this one. Requested by divaauliaferrari ]

You still remember that moment like it was yesterday. Your mother had sat you down, explained that your dad had gotten involved in a terrible accident. That he's in heaven now along with his closest friends. That he's happy.

It's many years into the future now, your mother gone, passing only days ago.

Now, you stand at your parents' grave, holding the small device that'll change everything. Save everyone. Stop your father from dying.

You don't realize you've set the date for the day when he met his demise until your finger hovers over the small button.

"This is for you, Dad," With a grim smile, you slam the button. Your world disappears, swirls into brilliant white light, nearly blinding you, and then the air shifts around you.

Blinking, your vision comes into focus, and you're able to dodge a robot heading straight towards you.

"Ma'am!" Your breath catches as the man in red, white and blue, Captain America, your fathers friend, comes running up to you. "You need to get to safety immediately. The escape pods are just over there."

"I-" You cut yourself off, nodding quickly when his eyes narrow. "Okay."

"Hold on. Do I know you?"

"Who, me? No. I just have one of those faces," Jabbing your finger behind him, you gasp. "There's another one of those robots!"

He turns, shield rising, giving you enough time to activate the invisibility device implanted into your watch.

"Don't die," You say quietly, not looking back as you take off running for where you know your father will be.

On that day on the floating sky bound to destroy earth, your father, as stupid and as brave as he was, died saving a small boy who grew up and became HYDRA's number one agent.

You skid to a halt, spotting your father as he jumps off the escape pod and sprints for the building where the small boy is.

Your eyes search the sky for Ultron's Quinjet, catching it as it smoothly turns and begins its decent towards the city.

"Dad!" You shout, jumping over pieces of rubble as you head towards him. Clint's head whips around, eyes wide as he searches for his daughters voice. "Get down!"

Bullets pierce the ground as you shove them behind a car, watching as he lands on his back, still clutching the child, safe and alive.

You grin, backing away as Clint sits up, eyes bouncing from the car ridden with bullet holes and to where he had been standing.

You set the date to the next day, when your mother had told you Clint had died. That he wasn't coming home and press the button without hesitation.

Your eyes water as Clint tiredly climbs up the steps, doesn't even touch the door before it flies open and your small, seven year old self launches herself into Clint's arms.

"I'm here," He breathes, crouching down as your siblings emerge from the house. "I'm home."