I like to think of them as OUR arrows

Kate couldn't help smiling to herself. The levels of testosterone in a room shared with Frank Castle? It explained the mild annoyance in Matt's tone as he had bantered back.

"Huh? Well, I might be a little fucked up." The quiver was new. Definitely held way more arrows than the last one and kept the trick ones firmly attached as an extra safety measure. "When I was a kid, my dad died -- My dad was murdered during the Battle of New York. Mom and I almost get killed. But as this... This thing came towards me, a single arrow took him down."

Clint can argue as much as he wants, he can carry as much pain and doubts as Matt does. But she'll never stop reminding both men of their value. Of how much they mean to their people.

"All my life I've practiced martial arts, kick boxing, I picked archery when I was eight. Now, I'm not gonna use what I learned to pretend I'm giving a real fight in a competition when people out there need all the help they can get."

Satisfied with her choices, Kate picked her duffel bag, carrying to Matt's balcony.

"I don't know, I just can't stay at home and do nothing. And I don't want other little girls to lose their dads and have nobody to help when they need it."