It wasn't often that Bobbi thought about how her AIM mission ended, and when it came up it wasn't even something that necessarily that bothered her. She recovered from her injuries fairly quickly, since AIM had mostly preferred playing mind games with drugs and sleep deprivation with their prey. And any gun shyness about going back in the field had been gotten over quickly. But Monica Rappaccini was still to this day at large, and while they'd been able to take care of the cell Bobbi had gotten embedded in, the thought of that woman still being free haunted her. It was her own unfinished business. "It's the one thing we do. No one is left behind."
She shook her head. "The longer the mission, the more sessions they want to make sure you're alright, especially if it goes balls up like mine did, but they're not bad. Just there to make sure we don't put someone who's about to crack in the field." Hers had taken a while. It had been her first big mission, there'd been a traumatic event. And her decision to elope with Clint not long after her return ping the therapists radar as one of those big decisions you shouldn't make after a traumatic experience.
"Not to toot my own horn, because I'm not like Reed Richards or someone, but I'm exceptionally talented at it, and I keep up with the science. Someday it might be all I can do. But... I think I might be an even better spy and fighter. It feels right."