Mine Would Be Him (Clint Barton x reader x Everett Ross)

Prologue

"Why do people always do their deep thinking while looking through a window?" you quietly asked the rain as it poured down on the opposite side of the glass.

"Because it beats staring at a wall," a deep, familiar voice said behind you. You smiled as you felt the towering frame of Steve Rogers move into your personal space as he came to stand beside you.

"You know," you began, "there wasn't time to do this before New York. Maybe there were a few fleeting moments of it before Sokovia. And Germany...well that was family so there was no point...but I'm sure doing it now" you added with a sigh.

"I know what you mean," he said, "I've been guilty of it a few times myself."

"Regrets are a hell of a thing," you said.

"I don't like to call them regrets if they are something I can still fix," he said. "They don't get that title until they are completely out of reach."

Turning to face you, he took your hands in his and said "If you want to talk, I'm here. As long as it takes." Then he added with a sad smile, "I'm kind of an expert in lost time."

"Where would I start?"

"The beginning is always as good a place as any."

"The beginning was a long time ago. This could take awhile."

"Like I said, as long as it takes."

"Well if we're going to do this," you said with a mirthless laugh, "I'm going to need a drink."

Five minutes later, you and Steve were curling up on a couch in the training facility, two glasses of your favorite wine in front of you, still watching the rain fall.

"Steve, do you know that song 'Mine Would Be You'?"

"Yeah, I think I've heard you playing it before. Why do you ask?"

"Because everything he sings about...how the girl he loved and lost was both his finest moment and his greatest sorrow...well, mine would be him," you said, taking a large sip of your wine.

"But which him?" Steve asked.

With a sad smile you said, "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me once my story is over."