When you woke the next morning, Steve wasn't there; his side of the bed had already grown cold and the room was silent. Grabbing your phone, you found it to be much later than you usually slept, quickly shooting to wakefulness at your realization. But Clint hadn't been by to wake you for your therapy session as he had for the past several days...and now your curiosity was awake as well. You texted him with no reply, followed by a text to Steve, again finding silence as your only response.

"FRIDAY?"

"Yes, miss?"

"Could you locate Clint or Steve please?"

"Mr. Barton and Captain Rogers are in the gym, miss. Shall I call them for you?"

"No..." you sighed, hoping that they were at least having a civilized discussion, knowing that Steve was completely against Clint's methods of pushing you as he was. But if you didn't call one of them, getting out of bed was almost impossible. You looked at the wheelchair on the other side of the room, still unable to feel anything other than inadequacy when you saw it.

'You're an Avenger. That's who you are.' Clint's voice echoed in your head and you found a small smile crossing your lips, surprising you that he was succeeding in getting to you. You didn't mean to push back so hard, and you really did appreciate what he was trying to do, though you weren't quite ready to let him know that just yet. No need to let the guy know that he was winning.

"Okay," you mumbled, "no bitching, (Y/N). Just do this." With a deep breath and a renewed resolve that you hadn't felt in weeks, you sat up and pushed your legs to the side and over the edge of the bed. Getting safely to the floor would be the hardest part and likely not graceful at all. You straightened your legs and pushed up from the mattress, sliding your feet forward to lower yourself until you had to release the bed and drop onto your butt. "Well, that went better than I thought."

Getting to the chair was only a matter of determination and dragging yourself to it; once there it was all upper body strength to pull yourself up. "Dammit, Steve," you mumbled, realizing that no one was there to help you change your clothes. It wasn't his fault; he just wanted to let you sleep and probably didn't think beyond that. After a mostly successful trip to the bathroom you grabbed clothes that looked the easiest to change into, and cursed Clint Barton under your breath as you struggled. When you were done, all you could do was stare at what you had actually accomplished.

"Holy shit, I did it."

~~~

"You don't think she's gonna see it as pity, do you? I mean, I've wanted to do this for a long time, but now I'm worried that she'll think I just feel bad for her." Steve sat on a bench in the gym while Clint was lifting weights, spinning the ring that he and Tony had made for you around his finger as he stared at it like he was waiting for it to give him his answer. "Do you really think this is gonna be okay?"

"Cap, you're obsessing," Clint grunted, struggling slightly beneath the weights held above his chest. "Could you maybe spot me while you do it though?"

Steve quickly stood and grabbed the bar with his free hand, easily setting it back on the rack as if it weighed nothing and returning to his seat. "That's too much weight for you. I told you that."

"That's too much weight," Clint snickered, mocking Steve as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Oh my god, Cap, stop staring at it. You're taking this too far."

Steve leaned back against the wall with a groan, rubbing his eyes and then pushing his hand through his messy hair. "You're right, I am. But isn't it warranted? You've seen it first-hand how she reacts when she thinks we're treating her differently."

"I still can," Clint laughed, holding up his arm to show Steve the large bruise you had left behind on his arm during a particularly angry therapy session.

"Yeah," he scoffed, pointing back and holding the ring up in display, "that's exactly what I'm trying to avoid. Can you imagine the beating I could get for this?"

"Steve?"

The Captain squeezed his eyes shut tightly and moaned quietly, trying to cover the sparkling jewelry that he was certain that you had seen. "No, no, no, no..." he whispered to himself with a shake of his head. He slowly opened one eye as if hoping you were a part of his imagination, but realizing that you were really there, he opened the other and faced whatever you were about to say. "Hey, (Y/N). I didn't know you were awake." He stood suddenly, smiling and almost forgetting what had just happened. "Look at you! You did this by yourself?"

Clint now stood to join him, giving you a small slap on your shoulder. "See?! You can do more than you think, am I right? God, I'm just so good! I think I'm in the wrong profession!"

"Yes, Barton, I got dressed without you. It's a miracle," you sighed at him though you were still holding your stare at Steve. "Could you give us a minute please?"

Clint nodded but moved behind you and pulled your chair back several feet, locking the wheels and grabbing a weight bar to push between them so that you had no way to move. "Alright, Cap, you're safe. Just stay out of her swing range and you should be all set."

"Are you kidding me?! You're such a jerk!"

"That may be true," he laughed, "but I'm also smart, sweetheart." Steve watched Clint until he had cleared the door and it was solidly shut behind him, preparing for the worst and a range of high-volume curses from you that he didn't need the team to hear. Taking Barton's advice, he moved a bit closer but well within the safe zone.

"(Y/N), listen..."

"Steve, was that what I think it was?"

"This isn't the way I wanted to do it," he replied quietly, "and I've wanted to for a long time. Long before all of this, I swear."

"Yes."

Steve took in a deep breath and relaxed his posture, "good, I'm glad you understand that I don't...wait...did you just...did you just say yes?"

"Your age is showing, Rogers. I can ask Tony to make some hearing aids that should work with your helmet if that makes you feel better." Your smile faded slightly when all he did was stare back at you, seeming frozen in place. "That is what you were asking me, right? Because I'm gonna feel ridiculous if it wasn't."

"That's what I was asking you," he whispered, almost too quiet to hear and still staring at you.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay."

"Then maybe you should try blinking. Or breathing. Or anything, because you're freaking me out."

Steve shook his head to break his own trance and sucked in a deep breath from holding it almost too long. His hands were shaking when he knelt down in front of you and took yours, holding the ring in position to slide it onto your finger. "You're sure? You're sure about me?"

"I think I should be asking that of you."

Without another word, he slid the ring into place, smiling to himself at the exact fit and how the design he had created looked perfect on your hand. "Tony really is amazing," he mumbled to himself as he admired it.

"Okay," you smirked, "I know you've never done this sort of thing before, but it really isn't the time to be talking about how amazing Stark is. Unless I'm getting in the way of something..."

"You're such a smartass," he laughed, taking your face in his hands and finally kissing you through the sound that you couldn't help but join in on. "And I love it. I love you."

~~~

Each time that your hand slipped from the bars or whenever your ankle threatened to roll over with your steps, a long string of profanities would spew from your mouth, enough so that even Clint's face turned a little red. Today wasn't one of your good days, but just when you were ready to give up, you'd look down at your left hand and angrily decide to try again.

"What the hell is going on with you, (Y/N)?" Clint barked, standing at the end of the apparatus with his hands crossed tightly over his chest. "This attitude needs to stop."

"If you don't like it, you're free to go, Barton."

He dropped his gaze to the floor and shook his head with a renewed disappointment in you. "I thought we had gotten past this. I thought we had an understanding, (Y/N)."

"Well you must have thought-" you stopped suddenly, feeling a shock of something run down the length of your right leg, looking down in time to see it move at the sensation. "Clint..."

"What?! Did you run out of names to throw at me? Can't think of a good insult? You want me to come up there so you can reach?"

"Clint...it moved. My leg. It just moved by itself."

"Shut the hell up!" he gasped, hurrying to stand in front of you and watching for it to happen again. "Come on...come on..." he whispered anxiously and hopefully. When the sensation and movement returned, he scooped you up in his arms with a laugh that filled the room. After a moment he set you down again and held you at arms length, with a wide smile and pure joy in his eyes.

"I felt it. Twice."

"Well that settles it, (Y/N)." He stepped down and back to his position with an affirmative clap of his hands, ready to watch you begin your work again. "We're gonna get you walking down that aisle, just you watch."