Clint never thought he would be happy to see a cargo ship, but when he saw the painted American flag that was peeling off thanks to its days of salt water exposure he was simply happy, not because he was going home or he had a deep love for huge,floating chunks of metal that smell like fish,but because he had actually went the right direction for once and he could finally put Bucky down. He was as heavy as he looked and the metal arm alone weighed a ton, or what felt like a ton to Clint who had just carried Bucky for roughly a kilometre.

After sneaking his way over to a stack of containers he dropped the duffels down behind a old shipping container that looked like it was full of book then trying to be as gentle as possible laid Bucky down next to the bags, leaving enough room for himself to snuggle down and take a quick nap. Clint knew going to sleep was probably not the best idea because literally anyone could stumble across them and, well they could kiss a ride back to America goodbye, but he was tired and if Bucky got to sleep he should get to catch some zees too. So Clint tugged his scarf up around his face,pulled his hood down to shield himself a bit from the wind and promptly passed out.

Yet when he woke up with Bucky's hands around his neck squeezing out what little air he had left he regretted taking his little cat nap

"Bucky," He croaked. "Let go, I need air."

Bucky's eyes just got even brighter. "No, I don't know you!"

Clint instantly remembered the scarf wrapped around his face, Bucky didn't recognize him with it on. "Buck," He tugged ripped the scarf off his face, "It's me! It's Clint."

Suddenly Bucky's grip slackened and he rolled off Clint, a look of realization and absolute horror covering his face like a blanket.

"Clint, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Bucky was struggling for words so Clint cut him off.

"I know you didn't mean to, it's alright. Just drop it." Clint rubbed a hand gingerly across his neck and winced, that was definitely going to bruise.

"I can't just drop it. Clint I could've ki-" He was cut off again,but this time by a ship's whistle.

"If we are getting on we got to get going now." Clint pointed out.

Bucky nodded. "Come on I know a way to get on." A slight smile touched his lips. "I hope the acrobat side of you is flexible or you are going to have a heck of a time." With that he slung his duffel over his shoulder and set off into a sprint. Running straight at the back of the ship he used his momentum to scramble up the side and latch his hand onto a ladder. Which from that he ambled up with ease and swung over the guard rail. With a sigh Clint hefted up his bag and set off after the one armed assassin, his mind quietly playing over what would happen if his hand slipped on the ladder or he didn't get enough power to get up the side. Most of the scenarios ended with Bucky having to peel him off the dock like a giant Clint shaped bandaid, but if Bucky could do it so could he. Hopefully.

__________________________

Kate let out a groan as her arrow thudded into the wall next to the target. She hadn't managed a concrete shot all morning and now the wall behind the target had so many holes in the plaster there was more cracks than wall. A few years ago if her arrow put a hole through the wall she would've rushed to find a way to hide it so Clint didn't see it and complain about her destroying his apartment. She could almost hear his voice whining from the doorway; "Aw Katie," He would say, "I have to live here you know. If you're going to miss at least put holes in your property, not mine."

Kate didn't have to worry about that anymore.

With a sigh she clipped set her bow into her case and stooped to pick up the thin layer of arrows that blanketed the floor of Clint's makeshift firing range.

Your firing range. She reminded herself. Your apartment, not Clint's.

The week after Kate heard about Clint's death she packed herself a bag and moved into his apartment. It wasn't that she couldn't find another, much nicer place to stay, or that she didn't have her own apartment to enjoy, it was that this was where she felt at home the most.

Surrounded by Clint's things,looking at New York from Clint's window and sleeping on Clint's ginormous sofa. Kate never slept in Clint's bed, in the beginning she tried to and she just couldn't do it. No matter how many times she told herself Clint wasn't coming back her subconscious would not let her sleep.

So she slept of the squishy couch with Lucky at her feet.

Lucky. Lucky was another reason she moved into Clint's apartment. The stubborn, one eyed dog was frightfully loyal to Clint. Just after his death Lucky had tugged the blanket off Clint's bed, drug it to the front door and huffed down on top of it. He had spent any time he wasn't with Kate lying on the ratty comforter ever since. At first Kate didn't really understand what Lucky was doing, but it didn't take much to realize what was going on.

Lucky was waiting for Clint to come home.

And some little part inside Kate was sitting at the door too, waiting for her mentor, her friend to come home.

Her thoughts were put to a halt when the ancient landline phone rang and Kate lunged down the stairs to answer.

"Hello? How did you get this number?" She said coolly.

"My name is Barney,we need to talk. I have some questions for you and I have a feeling you'll have some too after this."

"Wait, how do I know you?"

"My full name is Bernard Barton, I'm Clint's brother."

__________________________

The spot Bucky had picked for them to hide in made Clint glad he wasn't claustrophobic. Or arachnophobic, or literally anything phobic. The room, if you could call it that was actually more of space behind a set of engines. To get inside Clint had to take off his coat and slide in sideways then reach out tug his coat and bag in after. The actual space they were in was a little larger than a king sized bed in length and width and the ceiling was just high enough the Clint could stand without hunching or straining his neck.

Also (unsurprisingly) the room with filled with a constant hum from the engines that made the floor vibrate slightly, making Clint's skin itch. There was one ray of sunshine inside what Clint had dubbed the SS. Sardine Can and that was a literal ray of sunshine. The front wall, which was an outside wall, was pricked full of tiny, almost microscopic, holes. Now holes in the hull of the ship he was in probably should've made Clint groan even more, but the holes were so small that they only let in a pinprick of light. This covered the floor and backsides of the engines in a hundred little stars that danced around like salty fireflies.

The little lights made Clint feel better, so much better in fact he almost didn't sigh when Bucky nudged him slightly. Key word, almost.

"Yah?" Clint asked keeping his voice low.

"What year is it?" Bucky's arm glinted in the firefly light. "I stopped keeping track decades ago, but I guess now that I don't plan on going back on ice maybe that would be useful."

Clint smiled. "Yah, maybe. It's 2015."

Bucky's eyes widened. "2015? You mean it's been around seventy years since...."

"Since what?"

"Since I died."

"Died? Dude what are you smoking? I can see you breathing right now, you haven't died." Clint wasn't sure what was going on.

"I should've died." Bucky was full on muttering right now. "The train, the fall, the man, he said I should be dead. Seventy years. Steve. Steve has to be dead now too."

"Steve? Wait I'm not following, who is Steve?" But Clint had a sneaking suspicion on who this Steve was.

"My friend, he was in Brooklyn then he was on the train. He was little, and then he was big, nothing makes sense!" Bucky was beginning to clutch at his head again, like the thoughts were physically paining him.

As Bucky gripped at his head, Clint felt his thought aline into an answer. He had been so stupid, he had missed all the signs, but none of that mattered now because he knew who Bucky was, who Bucky is.

A/N) I'm sorry for ending it rather abruptly and for any mistakes, but I have a basketball tournament this weekend, an essay, a science unit test, a language final project and a construction test all happening within the next week and I am going crazy. I'll try to update more often during Christmas to make up for it, so sorry again. As always please vote and/or comment, it gives me inspiration. Thanks for reading!

-Brokenrook