Clint hung up the phone and rubbed his forehead.

How in the world was he supposed to tell Cooper that his favorite hero had died. How would he tell Lila? And what about Laura?

He took a deep breath and went down the hall.

Laura was in Lila's room, putting their daughter down.

She looked up when he appeared at the door. "Honey, can I talk to you?"

Out on the deck, she closed the door. "What is it? Is it something at work?"

"Steve's dead."

She blinked. "What?"

"Steve's dead. That's all I know."

"Oh my God." She covered her mouth. "How?"

"I don't know."

"How do we tell the kids?"

"I don't know. They also don't know when the funeral is, but we can come down tomorrow."

"So we've got to tell them tonight."

"Or just pack them up and tell them in the car," Clint rubbed his forehead.

"How about we get them in bed tonight, and tell them in a family meeting over breakfast, then pack up for the Tower."

"Sounds good."

Laura swiped at her eyes, and Clint stepped forward to embrace her.

"I can't believe he's dead, Clint. That just seems impossible."

He rubbed the back of her head in consolation. "I know. I didn't believe it either."

They stood like that for a while, until Lila opened the door. "Mommy? Can you finish the book now?"

Laura smiled. "Of course."

Clint followed them inside. He decided to help get Cooper to bed.

His older son was sitting on his bed, reading a comic book.

"Which one is that?" Clint asked, sitting next to him.

"Captain America. I don't remember which one though."

Clint winced slightly. "Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yup."

"Breath check."

He gagged. "Go brush your teeth."

"Aw, dad."

"Do it right the first time and you won't have to go again."

While he was gone, Clint flipped through the comic book. A slightly-discolored, not entirely accurate drawing of Steve stared out of each page. He shut it almost angrily as his son reentered.

Cooper got into his bed. "Can I have my comic book back?"

"Yeah. Sorry, Cooper."

He got up and went to the light switch. "Goodnight, Cooper."

"'Night, Daddy."

Clint shuffled quietly past Nathaniel's nursery to his room. Laura was already in bed.

He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth.

"Cooper was reading a Captain America comic book," he told his wife, putting on his pajamas.

"Poor guy."

"He doesn't know yet."

"I know. But he'll be so devastated to find out."

"They both will."

"We should probably have them pack before breakfast, instead of after."

Clint got into bed and leaned over to turn off the light. "I agree. I'll help Cooper pack. Do they have anything to wear to the funeral?"

"Probably. If not, we'll go shopping."

"I've never been to a funeral I've actually cared about."

"You've never lost as close of a friend as Steve."

Clint nodded and put his head down on the pillow. "Goodnight, Laura."

"Goodnight, Clint."

The next morning was extremely hectic. Laura and Clint hurried to get themselves and their three children packed before any of them complained of hunger.

Both of the older children asked continuously why they had to pack.

Neither parent would respond other than "because I told you to."

Finally, over a breakfast of eggs and bacon, Clint told them.

As predicted, it did not go very well.

Cooper was crying because his idol and friend was dead, Lila was crying because she didn't ever get a chance to give him the picture she drew him, and Nathaniel was crying because his two older siblings were.

Then Clint told them that they were going to the Tower to see the rest of the Avengers, and to go to Steve's funeral.

All three cried themselves to sleep in the car, so the last few hours were blessedly silent.

Unfortunately, that silence also gave Laura and Clint time to think about their late friend.

Finally, they were at the Tower.