Chapter 24

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"Clint Barton, a man of many skills..." I trailed off and my chest constricted with each breath. I never thought I would be at his funeral so soon. We all were ready to die in that fight, but I didn't think about the pain that came with it. My nose was numb at this point from the cold snow as it fell from the sky. I bundled up in my jacket even more and a chill ran down my spine. My vision blurred over as tears formed in my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away to regain my composure. I forced myself not to break in front of everyone. They didn't need to witness that.

I continued my speech, "The first time I met him, I thought his outfit was a cliché dark knight look. I made fun of him in my head, but never took into account that he might become one of my closest friends." One corner of my lips twitched up into a slight smile at the memory. "He hugged me for the first time after I spilled some of my personal details. He tried to tell me that he had gone through a similar scenario and that everything would be okay. He told me to Learn how to let it go. Those are wise words, but I can't let him go. He'll always be in my heart."

My breath hitched and I suddenly choked on my next words, "Clint wouldn't want us to be sad, but we can't help it. We lost someone very dear to us and..." A rogue tear fell from my eye and I wiped it away. "I wish I could bring him back..." My face contorted as I choked on a sob in order to keep it at bay. "He was a damn good spy. A hero. An Avenger. All in all, he was family, and we will never forget him."

Steve and Tony got a little teary eyed. They refused to look at the casket and looked down at the grass or up in the sky. Their shattered expressions pained me to look at. It appeared to be they were falling apart on the inside, just as the rest of us were. Banner didn't want to be near the casket and stood idly in the back, still as a statue. His glasses were foggy from crying, but he didn't move or look at anyone. I patted Peter on the back gently as he made his way to where I was. I moved to the side where the rest of them were and stood next to Steve, who grabbed my hand gently.

Peter trudged up to the casket, standing north of it so he could face everyone. The tears that had fallen from his puffy red eyes dried up on his flushed cheeks and his lips twitched into a frown. He ran his hands through his tangled brown hair in frustration. Peter flexed his jaw and tried to find his voice to speak. "Clint Barton is..." Peter paused, biting his lip in pain, "was one of my closest friends. We were lazy together, shared jokes, made puns, and split a whole pizza from time-to-time."

He cracked a small, broken grin and looked at each of us one-by-one. He set his hand gently on the casket. "I watched a show recently, and one of the characters named Church gave an amazing speech. There's so many stories where some brave hero decides to give their life to save the day. And because of their sacrifice, the good guys win, the survivors all cheer, and everybody lives happily ever after. But the hero...never gets to see that ending. They'll never know if their sacrifice actually made a difference. They'll never know if the day was really saved. In the end, they just have to have faith."

Peter continued, "This speech really stood out to me. Clint...never got to see the outcome of his sacrifice. He never got to celebrate with us. He never had that celebratory pizza or crazy amounts of coffee that I promised him. He never really got to say goodbye." He sighed heavily and wiped away the fresh tears from his eyes. His lip began to quiver and he clenched his jaw to stop. "He meant a lot to us. He was the best dang dead shot I've ever seen. He let me tell corny puns and joked around with me. He was one of my best friends. I could go on and on about our beloved Hawkeye, but Natasha needs to say a few words. I'll let her have the stage now."

Peter walked over next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. I set my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. At this point, I couldn't breathe. The pressure in my system was too much. With every second, I came closer to a mental breakdown.

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