Avengers-endgame 🎁 🆒

Clint nodded once. No speech. No grand vow. He just picked up his bow from the dock—the one he’d set down five years ago—and the string sang under his thumb.

Tony tilted his head toward the cabin. “She’s asleep?”

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

Clint stood.

Tony didn’t look triumphant. He looked tired. But he was here . Clint nodded once

“Good.” Tony pulled out a folded piece of paper—hand-drawn, crayon, with a heart in the corner. Morgan’s. “She left this in my suit’s boot last week. Said it was for ‘repairing the big donut in the sky.’” He smiled, small and real. “Let’s go fix it.”

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.