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"You missed."
Natasha waited for Clint to answer, but he was silent, staring at the row of targets as he sank arrow after arrow into each bullseye.
"Clint," she said softly.
"Yeah, Nat," he answered abruptly, clear annoyance in tone and gesture. "I missed."
But Clint never missed. She frowned, knowing she needed to push but not how when he was this upset.
The sound of the arrows went on for a little while, then finally slowed and stopped. Clint dropped his arms.
"It was my brother."
She stepped forward and leaned against him in silent support. He leaned back.