#readerxclint barton

[arrow-guy]

Talk to Me

Original request from @scrawlingwithstyle: Here's a request I've been sitting on for a bit. ClintxReader; Clint is deaf and most people rely on his lipreading skills, but Reader knows some ASL from when her family thought her autistic younger sibling would never speak (they became vocal close to seven years old). They have secret conversations across the room, thinking no one else on the team understands. . . . They're wrong. Adjust however you like!

A/N: Okay, it’s taken probably close to a year to actually get around to this, but i kind of breezed through writing it? And it was a whole bunch of fun to finally put down in a document. I didn’t change much about your request, but I definitely added to it, and made it a little romantic? Idk if it’ll come off as romance, it’s kind of goofy (it’s Clint, there needs to be a goof somewhere.) I really hope you like it, though!!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: None

“Are you sure about this, Bruce?” I ask. “Ross let me go as soon as you went AWOL. I haven’t worked with people like this in years.”

“Of course I’m sure! You were the best back in the day.”

“Back in the day,” I laugh. “You make it sound like we’re ancient.”

“We’re not as young as we used to be,” he says. “But that’s the point. You’ll bring some much needed experience to the table.”

“But I’m not a spy and I definitely don’t have any powers.”

“Trust me, (Y/N), superpowers are not all they’re cracked up to be, and both spies have long since ceased their spying activities.” I cock one eyebrow and he laughs. “For the most part.”

“Saying a spy stopped being a spy is like saying you misplaced the hulk.”

“Ah, very true.”

“I’ll do it, though.”

“You will?”

“Well I can’t very well leave you to fend for yourself, now can I? As it stands, I’m already a shitty friend, working together can’t hurt things.”

Bruce grins and grips my shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t fight back my smile. “Do I need to pack a bag, or will I be allowed to go home at the end of the day?”

“Not sure yet. Might as well bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush just in case.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you Monday.”

“I can’t believe you actually pulled it off, Banner,” Stark says. “You wrangled a counselor for the team?”

“What,” I say. “Like it was supposed to be hard?”

Bruce laughs and reaches out to place his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve known (Y/N) for just about as long as I can remember. I’m sure she’ll be a good fit.”

“As long as you can remember, huh?” I look past Captain Rogers and find a sandy haired man. He grins when I meet his eyes. “Just how long?”

I bob my head from side to side. “Somewhere between twenty years and most of our lives.”

He whistles. “Pretty long time, then.”

“Mhm.”

Bruce clears his throat. “I’m sure (Y/N) wants to see where she’ll be working, so I’ll just show her to her office.”

Everyone in the boardroom waves and Bruce leads me out of the room. As soon as we’re out in the hall I sigh and bow my head, finally able to let my shoulders relax.

“That was a lot.”

Bruce chuckles. “Trust me, it’ll either get worse or stay exactly the same as time goes on, depending on who you’re talking to.”

“The blond guy who spoke up, that’s Hawkeye, right?”

“Clint Barton, yeah.”

“Will I be seeing much of him?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know much about the guy. He seems pretty happy-go-lucky and stable most of the time, though.”

“Huh.” I shrug and hitch my bag a little higher on my shoulder. “You never know with some people.”

“True. I’m sure you’ll deal with him at least once more after this. He’s the curious type.”

“I guess I’ll have to look forward to that, then.”

Bruce hummed in agreement and leads me to the elevator bank and takes me down to what will eventually be my office. He gives me a basic rundown of the facilities and shows me which restroom is closest to my office. I ask for a baseline reading on everyone on the team and Bruce rattles off what he’s noticed about the main five.

“Steve will most likely drop by to make small talk, but it may take some time for him to open up in any way that counts. Tony will joke about therapy, but once he warms up to you it’ll be impossible to get him to leave.”

“Oof, that bad?”

“He’s long-winded.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to enforce appointments with him when he starts to take interest.”

“Probably wise.”

“And Natasha?”

“I doubt you’ll see much of her. She has her ways of working through her issues on her own.”

“Do they involve murder?”

“Don’t know, and I don’t care to.”

“Got it. None of our business. I’ll let her come to me if she needs anything.” I plop down behind my new desk. “What about Thor?”

“Who knows. He shows up when he wants and tends to be a pretty jovial guy.”

“Ah. Is there anyone else outside of the tower I can expect?”

“Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey will be around from time to time. If Steve has his way, Bucky will move in at some point, and Wanda is currently in the process of moving into the tower, so you may see her more after that. I’m not sure how often she’ll drop by. She’s fairly private due to her powers.”

“Energy manipulation, right?”

He nods. “That, and other mind tricks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But that just leaves Clint, and we’ve already gone over what you can expect from him.”

“It doesn’t just leave Clint, Bruce.” I fold my hands on the desktop. “I expect to see you in here at least once a week. Ideally twice.”

Bruce scowls. “(Y/N), you know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, well, I listen to your opinions on that stuff when I’m just your friend. Now I’m your therapist, and you’re going to listen to me because I know what works for you. So I expect you to get your pasty ass in here when you’re scheduled.”

“You’re making appointments for me now?”

“Until I’m sure you’ll come to me on your own, yes.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Send me the schedule. I’ll see you at my appointed time.”

“Wonderful.” I relax my shoulders, letting my professional mask slip. “Thanks for this, Bruce. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” He cracks a smile. “You’re the only person I trust to get to the root of our issues.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“Believe me, (Y/N), if anyone’s gonna let me down, it’ll be the team.” I laugh and he heads for the door. “I’ll see you later. Good luck with your first day.”

“Thanks, Bruce. I’ll see you later!”

“So, (Y/N),” Tony says, spreading out on the couch across from my chair. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah, what makes you tick? What motivates you to try and heal the fragile minds of the Avengers?”

“I’d say a decent paycheck is a pretty good motivator, Mr. Stark.”

He seems disappointed with my answer. “Is that it?”

“Well, that, and I want to make sure Bruce is doing alright. He’s struggled with therapy in the past, and I want to make sure he’s getting the kind of help that he needs.”

“I see.” He presses his lips together and folds his arms. “You’re not even curious about the rest of the team?”

“Of course I’m curious, but nothing discussed in this tower will be shared with anyone outside. I take my patients privacy very seriously.”

“You sure you don’t just fear for your life?”

“Living in New York, I fear for my life constantly. That doesn’t mean that I’m worried about getting merced if I get a little loose lipped outside of work.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “That being said, I won’t be sharing your confidential information with anyone you haven’t specifically given authorized access to your records.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I’m a professional, right?”

He smiles. “I’m really starting to like you, (Y/N).”

“Then I guess I have a lot more of this to look forward to, then, don’t I?”

I laughs and hauls himself up from the couch. “We’ll see.”

I make a note of his response in my open document. “Sounds like a tentative yes to me, Mr. Stark, and I’ll be here so long as you deem my services necessary.”

He nods and exits my office. He leaves the door open.

“How are you liking it here so far, (Y/N)?”

“It’s been quiet, Captain Rogers. It’s a bit like pulling teeth trying to get anyone to make use of their resources.”

“I guess it would be. We’re a relatively private bunch.” He pauses a moment. “And, please, call me Steve.”

“Right, Steve. Is there anything that I can do for you today?” I ask. “It’s entirely alright if you just want to make small talk.”

“Oh, well, uh…” He awkwardly clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “I guess I just wanted to get a lay of the land.”

“I understand.” I glance around my office. “I should probably bring in some art and plants. Make it a little less sterile in here.”

Steve laughs. “That might help.”

I smile. “Maybe an area rug?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you think would be best.”

“I appreciate the creative freedom.” I close my laptop, set it to the side, and settle back in my chair. “Is there something on your mind, Steve?”

“No,” he says quickly. He immediately looks conflicted. “I… well, kind of.”

“Feel free to speak. Nothing you say will leave this office.”

“You hardly know me.”

I shrug. “I know how stressful this environment can be. And, while your team is very good at what they do, they’re also the ones who are causing your stress.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” I watch him chew the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’m just concerned that things might not get better, even when Bucky’s moved in.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I’m worried that it might not be a good fit for him, or that the team won’t accept him, or that he might not even want to be around me.”

“Those are all valid concerns. Have you mentioned any of this to him?”

“God no. I don’t want to stress him out more than I already have with all of this moving business.”

“I might suggest bringing it up. He might be having similar worries himself, and, as helpful as it is to work towards what’s troubling you with me, I won’t be able to settle your nerves.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“If nothing else, it might open up a new line of communication between the two of you, which couldn’t hurt.”

Steve stays for another hour, just talking. When he leaves, he asks if I want the door open or closed. I don’t give him a definite answer and he leaves it open, just a crack. I laugh and start on his profile.

Someone knocks on my door and I glance up from my paperwork to see Clint standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Barton,” I say. “I was wondering when I might see you.”

He shrugs. “Here I am.”

“After two weeks, I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“If I was?”

“Then it’s none of my business.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “I like that answer.”

I rise from my desk and gesture to the couch. He raises his eyebrows, but takes a seat anyway. I sit across from him and watch as he tries to decide just how he should sit. In the end, he leans heavily on his knees. Nothing about him is relaxed.

“I’m starting to think Bruce was wrong about you.”

“What’d the green bean tell you about me?”

“Nothing concrete,” I answer. “He just mentioned that you seem to have a positive outlook on things most of the time.”

He snorts. “Great.”

“Mmm, I see. It’s a facade, then?”

He frowns and presses a finger to his right ear. “Could you say that again?”

“I said, it’s a facade, then?”

“Sometimes.”

I nod. “Interesting.”

He barks out a laugh. “Yeah, interesting.”

I watch him look around the room, examining the art on the walls and the stacks of paper on my desk. When he turns his head to the left, I notice his purple earpiece and something suddenly clicks. He tilts his head to the side when he sees me staring.

“What?”

“Would it be easier if we signed?” I ask, signing along as I speak.

He looks surprised. “You sign?”

I laugh. “Yes. My little brother is on the Autism spectrum. When he was a kid, he was almost entirely nonverbal. Mom taught him sign, and the rest of the family learned along with him.”

“That must’ve been really nice for him.”

“It was nice to be able to communicate with him when he couldn’t vocalize what he wanted to say. He eventually started speaking when he was about seven, though.”

“And you still held onto the signing skills?”

“Of course! It’s not like he just, bam, started talking. It was a long process, and he still has nonverbal days sometimes.” Clint starts to actually smile and it warms my heart. “It’s come in handy in my particular line of work too. Deaf and hard of hearing folks need counsellors and therapists too.”

“Which brings the topic of conversation back to me.” He shakes his head and leans back against the couch and signs, “You’re a tricky one, (Y/N).”

“I’m not tricky!”

“Then what?”

“I’m accommodating.” I speak again, but continue to sign along. “You don’t have to tell me everything, or anything, really. But I’m here to help, if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Clint. Any time.”

“Seems like you and Clint are getting close,” Bruce says.

“I don’t know what you mean, man.”

“He’s in here all the time, (Y/N). There’s no way Barton needs therapy five times a week.”

“It’s not always about therapy, Bruce. I strive to make my office a safe space where everyone knows that they can speak freely. He knows that he can come here and chill out without worrying about the rest of the team.”

“Barton doesn’t really worry about anything, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Bruce stares at me, eyes narrowed, and snaps his fingers. "You like him."

I roll my eyes. "I do not like him, Bruce. And you're not even here to talk about Clint, you're here to work on yourself and managing your stress levels."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure there's something we could talk about aside from me."

I sigh and hold my head in my hands. "I've been here for two months. I haven't been around long enough to form anything more than tentative relationships with the rest of the team. I'm more concerned about whether or not they can open up to me than I am with my love life."

“Right,” Bruce clears his throat.

“Thank you.” He looks thoroughly ashamed and I have to laugh. “I appreciate the interest, but it’s just not something that you need to worry about.”

“No, I understand.” He smiles and shrugs. “I guess I just miss having that easy rapport with you.”

“I mean, we still have that, Bruce. It’s just not something that I want to talk about in the workplace. It’s one thing to shoot the shit over lunch on a Saturday, it’s another to discuss my patients with another patient, all of whom are my coworkers.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

I smile. “It’s fine. Did you want to pick up where we left off on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“(Y/N)?”

I’m startled by the woman in the doorway. “Ms. Romanoff?”

She shakes her head and steps into my office. “As long as you’re not a government official, it’s just Natasha.”

“Ah, right.” I sit a little straighter in my chair. “What can I do for you, Natasha?”

“Clint’s said you’ve helped him a lot.”

“I don’t know about that. We just talk. He does all the helping.”

“I figured you’d say that.” She moves quickly across the room and takes a seat on the couch. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

“Oh.” I scramble up from my desk to sit across from her. “What about?”

“I need help working through a recent case.”

“Are you sure I’m qualified for that?”

“Well, you said Clint does all the helping. Maybe what I need is a sounding board.”

“Fair enough. Where are you caught up?”

Natasha rattles off the details of a recent mission. I do my best to follow her, but she loses me when she starts explaining the intricacies of a piece of Hydra technology they discovered. Eventually, she perks up, almost looking like she wants to jump up from her seat and run from the room.

“I think I’ve got it.”

“That’s great!”

She calmly gets to her feet and walks to the door. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

I shake my head. “It was my pleasure.”

“Even so, you helped me.” She flashes me an unexpected smile. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s not a problem, Natasha. I hope that we can speak again at some point.”

She nods and heads for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

In the hall I hear, “Oh, hey, Nat.” and Clint pokes his head in soon after.

I smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leans in the doorway and folds his arms. “What’d Nat dump on you?”

“Doctor patient confidentiality, Barton,” I say. “I can’t tell you.”

His arms fall to his side and he dramatically slumps into the room. “I thought you trusted me!”

I laugh. “I do trust you, Clint. But it’s not my information to give.” He drapes himself across the couch and grins at the sight of me fighting back my smile. “If it were, Bruce would have full access to what we talk about in our sessions.”

“That’s private information, (Y/N)!” He laughs. “I see your point.”

“Good.”

“Did you want to grab lunch later? That weird little cafe down the street started serving some kind of coffee burger.”

“Ugh, and you want to eat that?”

“(Y/N), it’s a coffee burger.”

“With all the heinous shit you put in your body, it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“If you think I’m bad, you should meet my dog.”

“Is that an offer?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to stick around long enough to find out.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s been four months, Clint. If I haven’t run for the hills yet, I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna happen for a while yet.”

Something twinkles in his eyes. “That’s good to hear. I was worried I might scare you off.”

“If anyone were to scare me off, it’d be Tony.” I shake my head. “That man is a handful.”

“What happened to patient confidentiality?”

“Since when is Tony being a handful a secret?” He laughs and I relax in my seat. “But, yeah, I’ll get lunch with you.”

“Really?”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over from physically eating coffee.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like they solidified the coffee and stuck it on a bun!”

“How do you know they didn’t? Maybe they turned the coffee into jello, passed it through a meat grinder, and threw it on a griddle.”

His face scrunches up in disgust. “Ugh, that’d just be burnt coffee.”

“I’ve watched you drink an entire pot of burnt coffee.”

“Desperate times, (Y/N). They call for desperate measures.”

I sigh and shake my head. ”I guess it’s fine, so long as you’re not addicted to caffeine pills.”

“Those don’t do anything for me.”

“That’s terrifying.”

He laughs, hauls himself up from the couch, and offers me a hand. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Head out for lunch.”

“Now? I thought you said later.”

“It’s been like five minutes. It’s later now.”

I laugh. “I can’t just go now. I have an appointment with Steve in twenty minutes. We can leave after that.”

He pouts. “Fine.”

“Don’t give me that look, Clint!”

He sighs and trudges towards the door. “I guess I’ll just have to make a reservation for one thirty.”

“That’d be great.”

He flashes a brilliant smile before disappearing out into the hall. I shake my head and move back to my desk.

“That man is gonna get me in trouble.”

“I thought you said you weren’t involved with Clint?”

“I’m not, Bruce.”

“Then what’s this?” He places his phone on my keyboard.

I pick up the phone and find an article titled “Hawkeye’s New Flame, or Just a Fling?” pulled up. A picture of Clint and I at lunch the other day sits just below a paragraph speculating who I could be. I snort and hand him his phone.

“Clint and I went to lunch. That’s all.” I sit back and fold my arms. “What’s the problem, Bruce?”

“I don’t want you getting dragged into some kind of media storm because you work with us.”

“It’s one article!”

“There’s at least four more like it that I’ve seen.”

“I’m not worried about it, Bruce. Clint just went out for lunch and some pap caught us talking. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it, but I can’t stop people from talking.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“No one should have to deal with anyone plastering their personal life all over the internet, but you know what? I’d rather get caught out in public with Clint than Tony.” I laugh. “Can you imagine the shitstorm that’d kick up if that happened?”

Bruce tries not to laugh. “I guess you’re right.”

“It was bound to get out that the Avengers brought in a counsellor at some point. It’s better that it’s like this instead of some media outlet picking up a rumor and deciding that you’re all unstable.”

“Well…”

“I’m not saying you’re the most sane bunch, but that’s no one’s business but yours. Regardless, don’t worry about this. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” He pockets his phone. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Of course I would, Bruce. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

I sit on the floor of the gym and lift the collar of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face.

Clint plops down on the floor beside me and tips his head to the side.

“Definitely didn’t expect to find you in here,” he says.

“What, I can’t work out?” I groan and lay back. “Ugh.”

“You okay?”

“No. I knew I should’ve just stuck to the treadmill.”

“What’d you do to yourself?”

“Weights.”

He laughs. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. Is wanting to be able to lift a very large dog a good reason?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad reason.” He lays beside me and props himself up on his elbow. “I could help you, if you want.”

“I don’t know how I feel about being all sweaty gross around you.”

He pokes my stomach and I laugh and shift away. “I don’t know, (Y/N), sweaty’s the new sexy.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” I laugh and scrunch my nose. “Also kind of gross.”

“Sweet and kind of gross, I think you’ve pretty much summed me up perfectly.” I laugh so hard that I snort and he grins. “So, do you want help working out?”

I press my fist to my mouth to quiet my giggling. “If you’re willing to, I really would appreciate it.”

“Then it’s a done deal.” I thank him and his smile softens. “Sorry about those articles last week, by the way.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I should’ve warned you, at least. I’m used to it, but you didn’t sign up for pap shots and gossip columns when you took this job.”

I scowl. “Honestly, Clint. If you’re not gonna read my lips, read my hands. It’s totally fine. I don’t care. I had a nice time at lunch. A few dumb articles won’t change that.”

“You mean that?”

“Well, yeah. I like spending time with you outside of all of this,” I say, gesturing to the tower in general. “With, y’know, no expectations of maintaining all of the professional bullshit.”

“Pretty sure you’re the most professional one here.”

“Thanks, I’m glad that comes across in the day to day, but do you understand what I’m saying? Like I genuinely do not care about what a shitty news outlet says. At the end of the day, the only opinions that matter are ours.” I sigh and settle on the floor. “Sorry.”

“Sounds like we’re not the only ones who need therapy.”

I hum. “Maybe I do.”

“No shame in it.”

I smile at him. “I know.” I sit up and get to my feet. “It’s getting late, I should head out.”

“You’re in tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around till noon. I’ve got a wedding later in the day.”

“Not yours, right?”

I laugh. “No, definitely not mine.”

“Cool,” He smiles up at me. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Since when do we have staff meetings?” Clint asks.

“Since we brought on a counselor,” Tony says.

I frown. “I’ve been here six months and I’ve never been to any kind of meeting.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you brought that up and just keep moving with the meeting.”

I snort and shoot Clint a look. He laughs and signs for me to stop. I wave him off and turn my attention back to the head of the table.

Tony rambles on for about half an hour before Steve cuts in and the two of them start going back and forth. They bicker for twenty minutes before Thor swans in, greeting everyone with his bright, booming voice. I was stuck in my office the last time he was on Earth, so our paths never had a chance to cross. Steve takes a moment to introduce the two of us and Thor vigorously shakes my hand, unintentionally jostling me around the whole time. He takes his seat on the other side of Bruce and the conversation picks up again.

I catch Clint’s eye twitching in my peripheral when Thor speaks a little too loudly. I gesture to get his attention and he raises his eyebrows when he meets my eyes.

“You good?” I sign.

He nods. “Can’t pay attention to save my life in these meetings.”

“I’ve never known anyone to compliment your attention span.”

He mouths, “Oh, ha ha,” and I laugh.

“You’re mean, (Y/N).”

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“Never said I didn’t.” He grins. “The way things are going, I’d say you’re probably just my type.”

I shake my head and hide my smile behind my hand. “Stop.”

“Aw, you're cute when you're embarrassed." I flip him off and he laughs. “That's a compliment!"

I snort. “Pay attention, Clint.”

We manage to make it through another hour and, by that time, someone has turned off the lights and started giving a presentation. I fold my arms on the table and rest my chin on top and beg myself to stay awake through this meeting. I’m sure it’ll only be a little while longer.

Clint’s hand creeps into my line of sight and he taps the table to get my attention. I shoot him a quizzical look and he lifts his eyebrows.

“You still with us?” he signs.

“No.”

“It’s going longer than I thought it would.”

“I’m honestly about to fall asleep.”

“Aw, (Y/N), no.”

“This is how I go out. Avenge me, Clint.”

“No!”

“It’s your job. You have to.”

“But who will help me through the trauma?”

I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter. “I’d be dead, that’s none of my concern.”

He shakes his head. “And you call yourself my friend.”

Natasha clears her throat, startling me away from the conversation. I try to pay attention to the presentation, but I just can't wrap my head around what they're talking about and Clint easily distracts me again.

"Quick question."

Surprised, I sign, "Shoot."

"Would you want to go out with me?"

My brain stops working for a second. "Wait, what?"

"I said, will you go out with me?"

My heart hammers in my chest. "Like as friends, or on a date?"

He sighs. "We've been hanging out as friends for months now. I'm asking you on a date, stupid."

My face heats and I sit back in my seat. “Oh.”

He laughs. “Did I break you?”

“A little.” I frown.

“Just say yes!”

Startled, I glance up the table, only to find Natasha glaring at Clint and I. Everyone is looking at us and I suddenly want to disappear.

“What’s the problem?” Steve asks.

“I’m sick of watching the two of them flirt with each other,” Natasha says. “You’ve been mooning over each other for months. Just say yes and be done with it.”

“Nat, they haven’t said a single thing since the beginning of the meeting.”

“They’ve been signing at each other the entire meeting.” She looks directly at me and signs, “I see everything.”

“Sorry.”

“Just say yes.” She looks very pointedly between Clint and I. “You’d be good together.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” Bruce says.

“That was months ago, Bruce. Things change.”

“Don’t be hard on her,” Natasha says. “Clint’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m just gonna, um…” I gesture to the door. “I’m just gonna go.”

I see Tony and Steve nod and I shove my chair back from the table and make my escape. The door shuts behind me, and I’m free. I sigh, relieved to be free of the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, only for the embarrassment of having my crush exposed to my coworkers to settle deep in my stomach.

I press my fingertips to my temples and walk down the hallway. “I knew he was gonna get me in trouble.”

I make the decision to just go back to my office. Maybe I can at least get some work done or, at the very least calm down. I turn as the elevator doors close and catch a glimpse of the conference door opening at the end of the hall. I shift slightly so that it’s not in my line of sight.

The elevator ride feels like it’s too long and I immediately flop down on my couch as soon as I’m in my office. I can't get comfortable and shift around until I'm upside down with my legs over the back of the conch, staring at the ceiling. I press the heels of my hands over my eyes and groan out of frustration.

“I left without even answering him,” I mutter.

The door suddenly opens and I freeze, pulling my hands away from my face, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

"(Y/N)?"

"Clint?" I try to sit up and smack my head on the edge of the coffee table. "Shit."

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I rub my forehead and sit up a little more carefully. "I'll live."

He takes a seat on the coffee table and watches intently as I sit upright on the couch and face him. He reaches out and gently touches my forehead, only to jerk his hand back when I wince.

"Sorry."

"Don't, it's fine."

"Okay." He sighs softly and shuffles awkwardly on the table. He stills when I touch his knee and takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry about the meeting. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

"Honestly, Clint, you don't need to apologize," I murmur. "I got flustered and then embarrassed when everyone else got involved."

"I know. I probably like pushing your buttons a little too much."

"That's not it."

"But I do push your buttons."

"Yeah, but only 'cause I let you." He smiles and I squeeze his hand. "But I'm a deeply private person. To have Natasha butt in like that, no matter the good she meant by it, really set me on edge."

"I had no idea."

"I don't feel like I have to keep everything close to my chest when I’m with you. You tease me, but it’s never from a place of malice and you know me well enough that you never take it too far.”

“I mean, you give as good as you get.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he runs his thumb over my knuckles. “But still. I should’ve just asked in private, but you know me.”

“Yeah. You’re sweet, but kind of stupid sometimes. More than a little impulsive. And way too fond of coffee.”

“Aw, I thought that was endearing!” He smiles when I laugh. “The invitation still stands, but you don’t have to say yes.”

“What’re you talking about?” He meets my eyes and I shake my head. “I’m not about to turn you down. You haven’t introduced me to your dog yet.”

“Oh, I get it, you only want me for Lucky.”

“Mhm.”

He shakes his head and kneels on the floor in front of me. “Shoulda known.”

“I know, I’m pure evil.” He grins and takes my face in his hands. “I should be fired, right?”

“Without a doubt.”

I hum softly and lean forward to bump my nose against his. After a moment’s hesitation, Clint closes the distance between us and gently kisses me. I place one hand on his forearm and tilt my head to the side to kiss him back. He smiles against my lips and pulls away, his eyes flitting over my face.

“So… about that dog.”

I have no idea what would happen to them after that, but I’d like to think they’re having a great time, petting dogs and continuing to mess with each other, all whilst falling in love.

I’d love to know what you guys thought of this little one shot. Did you love it, did you hate it? Did you breathe out through your nose a little bc you kind of laughed but also didn’t? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

If you’d like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know!

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Broken Flock (12/12)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: We’ve reached the end! It’s a little bittersweet to close out this story because I’ve fallen so in love with it and these characterizations. All I can say is that I’m so grateful to have had all of you on this journey with me, and I hope you enjoy the finale!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: None

Part 11

"Has (Y/N) seemed off lately?"

Bucky briefly looks up from his work. "A little. Why?"

"Dunno," Clint leans back in his seat. "I guess I'm just worried. She went through a lot in that barn. What if it's still messing with her head?"

"It might be." Bucky sighs and moves around the table to sit next to Clint. "We're here for her, right? She can come to us with anything."

"I know, but she doesn't like asking for help. You know that. What if she doesn't feel like she can talk to us? I don't wanna sit by and watch this eat her alive, Buck."

"Y'know, you're a little too empathetic for your own good." Bucky smiles and brushes the back of his fingers against Clint's cheek. "We'll be there for her when she's ready."

Clint nods. "You're right. I just…"

"You worry."

"Yeah. Of course I worry. You saw what she looked like when we found her. That shit broke my heart."

"I know. I felt it too. But we do what we have to for the people we love, right? And… and we love her."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I know that I do. And we're the same with her as we are when we're alone, all tangled up together like we're one person. I don't know about you, but I don't really do that shit with people who're just my friends." Clint chuckles and Bucky squeezes his hand. "When she's not with us, you complain that something's missin', and we both know it's (Y/N)."

Clint hums. "You're right."

Bucky cracks a smile. “I know I am.”

“Maybe we should tell her how we feel.” Clint searches Bucky’s face for any sign of reservation. “After everything we’ve been through together, and the way things are without her, I don’t think I can compartmentalize this.”

“I know.” Bucky scoots closer and Clint bumps his shoulder against Bucky’s. “I mean, we’re already pretty much together in every sense except the title.”

“Exactly.”

“We’re not going anywhere, ‘n she said she’s here to stay.” Bucky sighs. “Maybe we should tell her.”

Clint nods and they fall silent. Bucky can’t stop his mind from racing now, thinking about how (Y/N) will react when they tell her. Will she feel the same? Will she want both of them? The questions keep coming and his anxiety begins to spike, just as Clint starts to fidget beside him. He bounces his leg and bites at his lip, and Bucky can’t help feeling a little more calm knowing that Clint’s anxious too.

“How should we tell her?” Clint asks. “When should we tell her?”

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“How do you not know? You’re the one who makes the plans!”

“Clint, all of this is new to us. But what we’ve got with (Y/N) is good-”

“It’s great, actually,” Clint mumbles.

“Exactly. That’s the point. We can tell her when it feels right.”

Clint nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Bucky pecks him on the lips and pushes him away from the desk. “Now get outta here, I have paperwork I gotta finish before we can go home.”

Clint grins lopsidedly, and leans forward on his knees. “You kissed me.”

“Sure did.” Bucky looks him over and smiles before he turns back to his work. “Dunno why you’re surprised, we’ve done it before.”

“It’s just that you don’t do it all that often.” Clint shrugs. “It’s kinda nice.”

“You could’ve told me. I’d do it more often.”

“I know.”

“You could kiss me too, y’know.”

“I know, it’s just…” Clint shakes his head and gets up from his chair. “I’ll leave so you can concentrate.”

Bucky sighs. “Clint, c’mere.”

Clint shuffles closer to Bucky, eyebrows raised. Bucky gestures for Clint to lean down and tips his head back, carefully pressing his lips to Clints. Clint slowly responds, moving his hand to the back of Bucky’s neck and humming softly. Bucky pulls back and Clint quickly kisses him once more.

“What was that for?” Clint asks.

“I love (Y/N), but I also love you,” Bucky murmurs.

“I know. I love you too.” Clint combs his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “We don’t say that enough, do we?”

“No, we don’t.”

Clint smiles and heads for the door. “I’ll be at the range. Come get me when you’re done.”

Someone knocks at the door, and I’m momentarily pulled away from my work. I poke my head out of the bedroom and stare at the front door, waiting to see if they’ll just go away. They don’t immediately knock again, so I take my seat and settle back into working.

Unfortunately, they knock again.

I sigh, close my eyes, take a deep breath, and calm myself before getting up and going to the door.

“If you’re selling something, I don’t want it,” I call. “I still have Thin Mints in the freezer from five years ago that I haven’t eaten.”

I open the door and freeze where I stand.

Kate stands in the hallway, purple duffel slung over her shoulder. She smiles and waves.

“Hey.”

“Kate?” My brows pull together. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard from a friend in the Avengers that you were kidnapped-”

“Wait, what friend?” I ask. “Clint didn’t tell anyone what happened.”

“I went to school with someone on staff, they overheard something and passed it on to me.” She waves her hand. “Specifics don’t matter-”

“They kind of do, Kate. That’s confidential information. The fact that they told you is a massive breach of the contract they signed when they were hired.”

“You didn’t tell me what happened to you, (Y/N)!” She plants her hands on her hips. “Do you know how fucking worried I was about you?”

“I’m sorry, Kate. I know it must’ve been stressful. I should’ve been in better contact.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.”

“I’m sorry, Katie, I don’t know what else to say.”

Her bottom lip wobbles and she launches herself at me, arms wrapping around my shoulders, her nose pressed to my neck. I stumble back into the entryway and my muscles immediately scream under the strain of holding her up. I wrap my arms around her to try and lessen the strain, but I’m still not back to my full strength. I can’t keep this up for long.

“I was so scared for you!” she cries.

I sigh and rub my hand up and down her back. “I know.” I try to set her down, but she just tightens her hold. “Katie, you gotta let go. I can’t hold you up like I used to.”

She promptly lets go and drops to the floor. She holds my shoulders and looks me dead in the eye. “What happened to you?”

“Lots of poking, prodding, and needles, with some torture added for flavor.” Her expression morphs into one of horror and I carefully move around her to close the door. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine-”

“I am fine. I’m home and I’m recovering. Clint and Bucky make sure that I don’t push myself too hard.” I walk out to the living room and Kate follows. “I’m not saying I’m healthy or better by any means, but I really am fine.”

“Are you sure?” Kate drops her bag by the coat rack and takes a seat at the kitchen island. “What about your strength?”

“It’s slowly coming back, but I was there for a little over a week before the guys found me. I’ve had just under a week to really recover.” I pass her a bottle of water. “It’s a process.”

“How’d Clint take it?”

“Well, Clint was pretty calm, but Bucky apparently tore through just about every thug that got in his way.”

“Oh?”

“As soon as we got back to the compound everything pretty much went back to normal. Took them a few days to clear me to go home, but things’ve been good since.” I smile to myself and lean against the kitchen counter. “It’s good to be home.”

Kate smiles. “So. Both of them?”

“Hm?”

“Clint and Bucky and you.” She links her hands. “Both of them and you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, what’s going on there?”

“We’re really close. We always have been, but we’ve gotten closer since I got back.”

“Mhm, likely story.”

“There’s nothing more to it than that. You’re just looking for gossip.”

She rolls her eyes. “No I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, likely story.” I push off the counter and head back to the bedroom. “You’re welcome to stay, but I have to get back to work.”

“Oh?” Kate trails along after me and plops down on my bed when I sit at the desk. “You’re still employed?”

“Yeah, my clients were super understanding about the whole thing. The only problem lies in the fact that I’ve got two weeks of work piled up because of my little impromptu getaway.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Mhm.”

“How about I make dinner tonight?”

I stop typing and turn around to face her. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll make you dinner!”

“Please don’t.”

“I’ll go get groceries and make dinner when I get back. It’ll be great!”

“Kate, I love you, but you’re a shit cook.”

“I am not.”

“You can’t manage to cook a frozen pizza.”

She scowls. “I’ve gotten better since you left, and I’ll prove it to you.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

“I’ll be back before you know it, and the whole place is gonna smell amazing.”

I don’t say anything, and she hurries from the room and the front door opens and closes shortly after. I go back to work and barely notice when she gets back an hour later. I do what I can to ignore her as she rummages through my cabinets and drawers, but there’s only so much banging and clattering that I can block out.

Forty-five excruciatingly long minutes later, the front door opens again and I can finally relax a little.

I meet Clint and Bucky in the entryway and immediately wrap my arms around Clint’s middle.

Clint laughs and loops his arms around my shoulders. “Hello to you, too.”

I bury my face in his chest and mumble, “Please make it stop.”

“What?”

“Kate randomly showed up and decided she was gonna make dinner.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s destroyed half the kitchen already.”

Clint kisses the top of my head and rubs the space between my wings. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He moves around me and heads towards the kitchen. “Better figure out where we’re getting takeout from tonight, though.”

Bucky quickly takes Clint’s place and wraps me up in his arms.

“Sounds like you’ve had a rough day,” he says.

I nod. “I don’t really appreciate surprise visits.”

“I know you don’t.” He moves one hand to run his fingers up and down my neck, applying just enough pressure to relieve some of the tension. He hums softly when I relax against his chest. “You seem tense.”

“Because I am,” I mumble.

“Talk to me?”

“I… I’ve been working all day, and I was hoping I could try and get caught up, but then Kate showed up. She was upset that I didn’t tell her about what happened and then she was sad and she just launched herself at me and hugged me.” I shake my head. “If it’d just been a hug, I would’ve been fine, but I’m still too sore for that shit.”

“Is this okay, though?”

“Yeah, this is perfect. You know where and what to avoid.” I sigh. “I just wish my back would stop hurting.”

“Maybe I can help with that.”

“Would you?”

“Of course. Clint’s got Kate covered, it’s only fair that you get a back rub outta the deal.”

“I dunno if that’s how that works.”

“Well I’m not just gonna give you some Tylenol and call it a day. That’d be rude.” He takes my hand and leads me to the living room. “And also the barest fuckin minimum someone could do.”

Bucky takes a seat on the couch and has me sit on the floor between his legs. I lean forward on the coffee table and he starts moving his hands over my back, pressing his thumbs under my shoulderblades, and over the base of my wings before moving on to the small of my back. He works his way back up to my neck and I groan when he moves back between my wings. I push back against his hands and he obligingly digs his fingers in, earning a hum of approval from me.

“That good, huh?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Mhm.” I stretch my wings and he laughs. “‘S really nice, Buck.”

There’s a shout from the kitchen before something crashes to the floor. Bucky stops and I cover my face with my hands. Footsteps approach and stop just short of the coffee table.

“The hell was that, Clint?”

“I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind before this day is over,” I mumble.

“We’re definitely having takeout tonight,” Clint says.

He drops a bunch of takeout menus on the table, but I refuse to look at them and look up at Clint instead.

“We’re having Thai food.”

“What?!” Kate rushes over to join us. “I don’t like Thai food, though.”

“Kate, you fucked up dinner.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We’re having Thai. End of discussion.” I sigh and scrub my hands over my face. “What broke.”

“That white casserole dish you got from Tony a few years back,” Clint answers.

I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my temples. “I really liked that dish.”

“I know, (Y/N), I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Kate says. “I’ll go clean everything up.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Bucky mutters.

Bucky hands me his phone and tells me to order dinner while he gets me some Tylenol. As long as he’s known me, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could see the headache slowly spreading through my head. I quietly thank him and dial the number of the Thai place we used to regularly order from. I give them Clint’s name and they ask if I want the regular order.

“No, tonight we’re gonna need three chicken Pud See Ew, two seafood Pud Kee Mao, one chicken Pud Thai, all of those two stars, and then one order of fried rice with tofu.”

“Lots of company tonight?”

“No, we just want leftovers.”

They laugh and I ask them to deliver the food to my apartment instead of Clint’s. They oblige and let me know the food will be here in about half an hour. They promptly hang up and Bucky is back with the Tylenol and a glass of water before I can even put the phone down.

“You’re the best, you know that, right?”

Bucky laughs and hands the medication and water over. “I didn’t, but thanks.”

I hum and take the pills before hauling myself to my feet. “I’m gonna go back to work till the food gets here.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m still up to my eyeballs in first drafts. I’ll drown, if I’m not careful.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’ll try not to.”

I work until Clint pokes his head into my room to say the food’s arrived. It’s a little later than promised, but still hot enough to eat regardless. Everyone gathers around the coffee table to share each dish, but Kate sticks to the fried rice, as I thought she would.

When I finish my meal, I get up, kiss Clint and Bucky’s cheeks, and let them know I’ll be working for a while longer. Clint complains, but doesn’t do anything to stop me.

After almost an hour, the sounds of their conversation fade into white noise, and I barely even register them as I work. I wish I could be out there with them, but I know that there’s no way that I can reasonably expect to relax until I’ve made some kind of dent in my inbox.

It’s totally dark when Clint comes into the bedroom and drags me and my chair away from the desk. I protest, but he just closes my laptop and picks me up under my armpits.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter. “I can walk by myself.”

“I don’t trust you not to go right back to work.”

“But there’s so much of it… Can you please just put me down?”

“Nope.” He tosses me over his shoulder. “Hurry up, Buck!”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Bathroom. You’re gonna get ready for bed.”

“But my pajamas-”

“On the bathroom floor, where you leave them every single morning when you get dressed.”

I sigh. “Sometimes it’s annoying that you know me so well.”

"Comes with the territory, sweetheart."

"I know… still." I whap him with my wing and he laughs. "Annoying."

Clint deposits me in the bathroom and leaves to check on Bucky. I shut myself in and get ready for bed, taking my time brushing my teeth and washing my face. When I'm done, Clint and Bucky are cuddled up in bed. They shuffle away from each other when I approach and I hold up a hand to stop them.

"I can spoon Clint tonight," I say. "I don't need to be between you."

"But we want you between us," Bucky says.

"I… why? I've been in the middle for a week. Don't you miss getting close to Clint?"

"We can switch things up some other night. But right now, I like knowing that you're safe."

"And we know that you're safe when you're sandwiched between the two of us," Clint adds.

"But one of you always wakes up with a mouthful of feathers. Wouldn't it just be easier-"

Bucky cuts me off. "Please don't fight us on this, (Y/N). We just wanna be close to you."

I nod and climb into the bed and lay between with my back to Clint. I fold my wings tight against my back, but Clint doesn't move closer. Slowly, I roll onto my stomach and extend my right wing to cover him. He shuffles across the mattress and presses his chest to my back. He relaxes when I settle against him and Bucky then moves closer and wraps his arm and Clint and I.

“Where’d Kate go?” I ask.

“She called America for a portal home,” Clint says.

“I didn’t mean to chase her off,” I mumble.

“You didn’t.” Bucky kisses my forehead. “She thought you needed someone to stick around with you for a couple of days, but didn’t realize that you’ve already got us.”

“I’m sensing something else happened.”

Clint laughs. “We gently explained that she stressed you the fuck out showing up like she did. She doesn’t always think before she does stuff like that, so she didn’t see it at first.”

“I did kind of ignore her though. Probably shouldn’t’ve done that.”

“You didn’t ignore her. You kind of go into your own little world when you’re working.” He pauses for a moment and presses his forehead to the back of my neck. “Kind of worries us sometimes.”

“Oh.” Clint’s arms tighten around me and I look at Bucky to see if he feels the same. He just nods. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bucky murmurs.

“But I do. And I’m sorry if I’ve been distant since we got back home, and I’m sure I have. I talked to my clients, and they were really understanding about the situation, but I’m still almost three weeks behind on my workload.” I sigh. “That’s not a good excuse, but I’ve just been so swamped that I’ve barely had any room to think about anything else.”

Bucky closes his eyes, and sighs. I can see the tension leave his body, and Clint’s hold on me relaxes. I reach back with my left hand and gently comb my fingers through Clint’s hair and take Bucky’s hand with my right. Bucky meets my eyes and I silently ask him to explain.

“We were worried that something about the barn was still messing with your head,” Bucky says. He squeezes my hand and holds it to his chest. “I know what that’s like, and I’d never want you to go through that alone.”

“Oh, Buck…” Clint mumbles something much to the same effect against my neck. “I didn’t mean to worry you. Either of you.”

“We’re always gonna worry about you, (Y/N),” Clint says. “We-I…”

Bucky finishes Clint’s sentence, saying, “We’re always gonna worry about you, because we love you.”

“You… me?” Bucky nods and I quickly sit up and look between both of them. “Both of you?”

“Yeah,” Clint rolls onto his back and looks up at me. “Both of us.”

“Oh.”

“We were literally talking about how to tell you when we were at the tower earlier.”

“We weren’t expecting an opportunity so soon, though,” Bucky adds.

“What about you two?” I ask, voice small.

They look at each other and smile.

“We love each other,” Bucky says. “And we have for a long time, but we’re not complete if our relationship doesn’t include you.”

“You’re our missing piece.” Clint shrugs. “I don’t know if there’s much to say past that.”

“Oh.” They’re quick to reassure me that they don’t want to pressure me into anything. I just laugh and shush them. “No, that’s not it. I’m just surprised.”

Clint frowns. “Really?”

“I mean… I didn’t doubt that you two loved me before, I guess I just didn’t want to assume that it was more than what we’d already expressed.” I sit back on my heels and sigh. “But more than that I just… when we were leaving the compound, it really hit me how much I love you two. How much being with you and having you in my life means to me, after everything we’ve been through.”

Bucky nods. “We just don’t wanna be quiet about it anymore.”

“I don’t either. But ever since I met the two of you, you’ve been my closest friends, and I…” I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. “I guess, I-I just don’t want any of this to change our relationship.”

Bucky props himself up on one elbow and covers my hands with his. “Nothing needs to change. Things are perfect the way they are.”

“I mean… it’d be kind of be nice to kiss you,” Clint mumbles.

“I think that kind of goes without saying,” Bucky says.

I laugh. “I dunno, that’s a pretty big change.” Both men freeze and I laugh harder. “I never said no.”

Clint grins and quickly sits up. He looks between Bucky and I and Bucky just shakes his head.

“Don’t look at me,” he says. “You gotta ask her.”

Clint shakes his head. “Right, I know.”

I reached out and ran the back of my finger over his cheek before cupping his jaw in my hand. His expression softens and he slowly leans in and presses his forehead to mine. Bucky laces his fingers with mine and I tilt my head to the side to press my lips to Clint’s. He readily responds, gently kissing me back, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare me off. I pull away and peck him once more on the lips. Clint wraps his arm around my middle and ducks his head to kiss my neck. I laugh and shiver at the feeling of his stubble against my skin.

“How was it?” Bucky asks.

“It felt right,” I answer. I meet his eyes and he smiles. “Kind of like we’ve been doing it the whole time.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him and he laughs. “You want a turn?”

He sits up fully and places his hand on the back of my neck. “Of course.”

He traces his thumb along my jaw and I lean into his touch. Bucky leans in and bumps his nose against mine before brushing our lips together. I let out a shaky breath when he does it again and tip my head up to kiss him. He smiles against my lips and I hum softly. When he pulls away, he brushes his thumb over my cheek and smiles in the way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corner.

“That was nice,” I murmur.

“It was.”

“Definitely looked like it,” Clint says.

I laugh and Bucky wraps his arms around Clint and I. Somehow, they manage to comfortably situate me on both of their laps. I enclose the three of us in my wings and slowly relax into the warmth of their arms. Clint and Bucky figure out a way to kiss me at the same time, which only results in the three of us laughing.

Eventually we get too tired to stay upright and we collapse in a pile on the bed. Bucky pulls the covers up over us and slips his hand under my shirt to splay across the small of my back, just under Clint’s.

“I love you,” Clint mumbles.

“Me too,” Bucky says. “Both of you.”

My heart swells and I blanket them with my wings. “I love you, too.”

“G’night, (Y/N).”

“G’night,” I murmur.

My eyes grow too heavy to keep open and I drift off to sleep, wrapped up in Clint and Bucky’s arms.

I promised a happy ending, and here we are! I won’t lie, I’m kind of in love with this chapter, and I feel like it ends the series really nicely.

However, I’d love to know what you thought! I always love seeing your reactions, so please comment, reblog, like, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be added to my forever tag list, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark

This fic:

@avengerscompound​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @shirukitsune​, @keenmarvellover​, @katebarton15, @feelmyroarrrr​, @shynara51​

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Broken Flock (11/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Okay I’m actually kind of really excited about this chapter. I feel like it got away from me a little bit for a sec there in the first half. That being said, I really love the end of this chapter, and I hope you guys will as well. Please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussion of human experimentation (not in depth), Discussion of politics (the Accords)

Part 10

“I didn’t expect to be stuck in a conference room for this.”

“Trust me,” Steve says. “I didn’t think it’d come to this either, but-”

The door bursts open and everyone turns to look. General Ross stands in the doorway, hands behind his back. He looks too smug for my liking. If I weren’t so sore, and if I knew I wouldn’t get in trouble, I’d wipe that look right off his face.

Steve groans. “We had a change of plans.”

“Ah, so good of you to join us, Ms. (Y/L/N),” he says. He strides through the room to stand at the head of the table and address us. “I was beginning to wonder where you’d gone.”

“Last I checked, I don’t answer to you,” I snap. “None of us do.”

“You dropped off the map for a good two weeks.”

“I was kidnapped.”

“Even so-”

“What the hell is this about?” I cut in. “Because I was under the impression that this meeting concerned myself and the Avengers alone. Not you and your little government issued lackeys.”

“You’re awful hostile for someone speaking to her superior,” he ground out.

“Who, me?” I glance around at everyone in the room. “I’m a civilian and the Avengers are a private organization. I don’t work for you, Ross. None of us do.”

“You will,” he says. “When the Accords are put into governmental procedure.”

“See, I don’t know if you’re ever going to make headway with that little project of yours.” I shuffled around in my seat before leaning on the table. “Considering the fact that you refuse to work with one of the biggest players in this, who knows how many signatures you’ll get.”

“To what do we owe the displeasure, Thaddeus?” Tony asks.

Ross’ eye twitches. “You missed your deadline.”

“We were a little preoccupied in finding (Y/N),” Steve says. “As she said, she was kidnapped. You would know this if you’d read any of the correspondence we sent you concerning this.”

“And we wouldn’t be in this position if you’d quit running in circles and rejecting any kind of amendments we suggest,” Bucky adds. “We’ve been trying to work with you on this for months, yet you never seem to be able to make up your mind on what you want from us.”

“He wants complete and total control over the Avengers,” I say.

“Excuse me?” Ross grinds out.

“I said, you want to control the Avengers,” I repeat. I look to Natasha. “Did I stutter? I don’t think I stuttered.”

“Not that I heard,” she says.

I look Ross dead in the eye. “Do you need me to speak up? Or would it be helpful if I just signed instead?”

“(Y/N),” Steve warns.

I glare at Ross, but sit back in my chair. “Sorry.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Steve says. “But I don’t want you to say anything incriminating.”

I simply nod and keep quiet. Steve gestures to Tony, who stands to face General Ross.

“We weren’t planning on announcing this today, but we’ve given your proposal some serious thought, and we’ve decided to turn you down,” Tony says.

“You’re what?!” Ross hisses. “You can’t do that!”

“Can’t we? Because we’ve been operating independently for the past two years, and things seem to be going just fine. The only major incident we’ve dealt with since Sokovia-”

Ross interjects, “Which was your fault, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Shut the fuck up, Thaddeus,” I snap. “You don’t get to interrupt people just because you’re a General.”

Clint snorts and I squeeze his knee in a silent plea for him to be quiet.

Tony clears his throat. “As I was saying, the only incident we’ve dealt with since Sokiva has been (Y/N)’s kidnapping. And we managed to find her just fine, no thanks to you.”

“And,” Natasha says. “If I’m remembering correctly, we’ve been fully functional since S.H.I.E.L.D. went under, even without asking for any assistance from the likes of you.” She tilts her head to the side and folds her arms. “And yet you expect us to just hand ourselves over to you.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“No,” I say. “I think we understand perfectly. You think that the Avengers have too much power. The only way that you can see to ensure no one gets hurt is to put a leash on them. And I can see where you’re coming from, and your care for the public, if you can even call it that, is commendable. But this ass backwards, roundabout route you’re taking is absolutely fucking absurd.”

“You said you’re not part of this team!”

“I did, but I never said I didn’t have any kind of stake in whether or not the Accords are approved. I have powers, remember? I’m directly affected by whatever kind of legislation is put in place because of those Accords. But you could never understand that, because you’ve only ever seen people like us as power hungry egomaniacs. But look around.” I gesture to the room. “No one here asked for what we got. Bruce and I were accidents, Steve was a scientific crapshoot, regardless of how successful, Bucky was kidnapped and brainwashed and experimented on without his consent, Natasha and Clint’s backgrounds are questionable at best, and Tony was blown up by his own bomb. His first suit was built out of necessity, not curiosity or the need to seize power.”

“(Y/N)...” Bucky murmurs. He takes my hand and squeezes it gently.

“By all means, work with the Avengers. But quit acting like you’ve got the moral high ground, because all you've done is set up roadblocks and refuse to compromise in any capacity."

Ross looks down his nose at me. "You've got a lot of opinions for someone so vehemently against being part of their team."

"Well, you’re ready to imprison any single powered person who doesn’t sign, simply because you deem us to be threats.” I narrow my eyes. "But last I checked, you can't arrest someone for having opinions."

"Maybe not, but you certainly seem to know more about the Accords than what's been made available to the public-"

"We've kept her up to date with the proceedings," Steve says. "She has every right to know about something that would change the way she lives her life."

"That's not a decision for you to make."

Steve simply shrugs. "You never said anything about our discussions being confidential."

“Why you-”

“You do see the position you’ve put us in, right?” Steve presses. “We’re trying to work out ways to protect our loved ones, powers or no, and still do our jobs, but you keep blocking every single suggestion we make. You want us to cooperate, but you make it impossible.”

“You say that as if you’re not trying to bend the Accords to work for you.”

“No,” Tony says. “That’s what you’re doing. Your unwillingness to collaborate with just proves (Y/N) right. You don’t want to work with us. You want to control us. Because we’re not predictable, and that scares you and your little government buddies.”

Steve rises from his seat and stares Ross down. “See, we’d be happy to work with you. But that means working with us.”

Ross tries to protest, but shuts his mouth when Bucky stands abruptly. Bucky’s glare can only be described as glacial. No one says a word.

Ross shifts closer to Steve and Natasha shoots up from her chair. Clint, Tony, and I follow suit. I shake out my wings to make myself look bigger than I am and squint at General Ross. He’s startled to find all of us resisting him and turns back to Steve, only to find him with a similarly cold expression and his arms folded across his chest.

“If you’re not going to work with us,” Steve says. “I suggest you leave.”

“Fine.” He looks around the room at each of us. “But I will be back.”

“Until you’re ready to compromise, you’re not welcome,” Tony quips. “But we’ll gladly escort you out.”

Ross seems to know he’s been beat and makes a hasty retreat. His lackeys follow him from the conference room and down the hallway, back to whatever they arrived in. When I’m sure they’re gone, I sink back into my seat and cover my face with my hands. My heart is beating out of my chest and every ache from two days earlier is back with a vengeance.

“Are you okay?” Clint asks, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I nod and turn to press my face to his shoulder. “Too much excitement for one day, that’s all.”

Clint hums in agreement. “I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.”

I laugh. “Of course he won’t, he got stared down by a room full of Avengers. He probably shat himself as soon as Nat stood up.”

“Of course he did,” Clint grins at Natasha. “She’s terrifying.”

Natasha snorts and Clint tries to make another joke to actually make her laugh. Steve watches them and I wait till I can catch his eye to say something.

“Is it safe to assume that wasn’t part of the plan today?” I ask.

Steve sighs. “No, it wasn’t.” He glares at the door. “General Ross seems to have a bad habit of showing up when he’s least wanted.”

“And ignoring anything he doesn’t want to hear,” Tony adds. “I swear, we sent him at least three notices about the delay, and he just ignored every single one of them.”

“You seriously put off negotiations to find me?”

“Of course we did, (Y/N),” Tony says. “You’re family. You know what we do for family.”

I frown. “Drop everything.”

“Exactly.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, we did.” Bucky takes my hand. “We weren’t going to leave you behind after everything we did to find you last time.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I blink them away and whisper, “Thank you. All of you. Really.”

“There’s nothing to thank us for,” Natasha says. “Don’t argue with me about this.”

I laugh, but sniffle a moment later. “Okay, I won’t.”

“You wanna tell us why you actually wanted to meet?” Clint asks.

“Right,” Steve shifts in his seat. “We believe that we’ve apprehended everyone involved with your kidnapping, (Y/N). They’ll be tried and probably sentenced before the end of the month.”

“Oh, wow.” Surprised, I look between Steve and Tony. “I forgot how quickly you work.”

“We put in a rush order for our favorite Sesame Street character,” Tony says.

I laugh. “So I’m Big Bird now?”

“Well, you’re smart, you care about your friends and family, and you’re nice. Well…” He gestures vaguely. “Most of the time.”

“I’ll take it.”

Tony hums. “I started looking into Hoffman’s research, and it’s pretty grim stuff.”

“Oh?”

“A lot about genetic mutation and splicing animal DNA with human. From what Banner and I have found, she’d been doing this for a long time, and getting away with it, too. Based on her notes from the last five years, you’re her most successful experiment, and she didn’t even know you existed until six months ago.” He sighs. “I won’t go into too much detail, but the plans she had… she’s bad news in every sense of the phrase.”

“I got lucky, then.”

“I didn’t want to say that, but yeah. You did.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). You shouldn’t’ve been mixed up in any of this in the first place.”

“It’s not your fault. She would’ve caught up to me eventually. It’s not like ten foot wings are easy to hide.”

“All of that aside,” Steve says. “They’ll be going away for a long time. The rest of their lives, if we can manage it. They won’t be able to get to you ever again.”

I nod. “What’ll you do about Ross?”

“If we can manage it, we’ll keep pushing for reformed Accords. None of us want to be limited in what we can do, but it was easier to operate when we had the power of a government agency or two to back us up.” Steve shrugs. “If he can’t agree to that, we won’t be signing.”

“And you’re all cool with that?”

Tony nods. “We’ve argued over this for months, and getting your insight as someone on the outside helped as well. We’re not backing down from this.”

“Good. There’s no reason to roll over just because some dickhead bully demands it. He needs your support on this. He’s blind if he can’t see that.”

“Our thoughts exactly,” Steve says.

“Has she been cleared to go home yet, though?” Clint asks.

Steve nods. “She’s good to go as early as tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” Clint says, his relief obvious in his voice. “Simone has to go out of town on Saturday and without her, there’s no one left to dog-sit.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and Tony makes makes a joke about Clint’s loyalties lying elsewhere. I can’t pay attention to any of it, though. My thoughts keep straying back to what it’ll be like to be back in my apartment and away from the rest of the team. I can’t help thinking that it’ll be a little more peaceful, especially with the constant sounds of the settling apartment building around me.

Bucky squeezes my hand and I shake the fog from my head. “Hm?”

“You okay?”

I try to reassure him with a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to plan what we need to do to get ready to go tomorrow.”

“We’ll head out bright ‘n early tomorrow. Okay?” I nod and he kisses my forehead.

“You’re sitting in the back, Clint.”

“What? You know I get carsick.”

“You don’t get carsick, you just don’t like the legroom in the back.”

“Can’t help that, Bucky, I’m a tall guy!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You know (Y/N) needs the front seat. She can’t sit normally because of her wings.”

Clint scowls. “Then let me drive.”

“Hell no, you’re a nightmare behind the wheel.”

“You’re no fun!” I clear my throat and both men look to me and smile. “Hey! You’re finally up.”

I shake my head. “I was up an hour ago, I just wanted to make sure I had everything.”

“Oh, right.” Clint strides across the driveway and takes my bag from me. “We were just-”

“Squabbling,” I laugh. “I know. It’s what you two do best sometimes.”

“We can do other things too,” he mumbles.

Bucky shakes his head and joins Clint and I. “Ignore him. He’s just grumpy because someone called about a burst pipe in the basement.”

“Oh shit.” Clint scratches the back of his neck and I place my hand on his arm. “Have you called someone yet?”

“Yeah, they already showed up, but it won’t be a cheap fix.”

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure. We can get it sorted out when we get back, right?” He nods and wanders off to pack up the car.

Bucky hooks his arm around my waist and I tilt my head up to kiss his cheek. “You’re looking better this morning,” he says.

“I slept really well last night. Probably has something to do with you two.”

“You give us too much credit, (Y/N).”

“I don’t think you give yourselves enough.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I’ll go get the car set up.”

“Okay. I’ll be over in a minute.”

I stand back and watch them move around the car. Clint scoops up two more duffel bags, I assume they’re his and Bucky’s, from beside the car and places them in the trunk. Bucky puts the passenger seat down and I can see him roll his eyes when Clint sidles up beside him and says something close to his ear. Clint laughs when Bucky pinches his side and I can’t help smiling.

It suddenly hits me how thankful I am that I have both of them. I don’t know what I would do without them, or even where I’d be right now if they weren’t in my life.

My smile slowly slips away as I realize that I love them. Different from when we first met and more than I did when I left.

My heart flutters and I press my fingers to my lips, just letting the realization wash over me. I’m not scared. Just peaceful. This feels right.

“You okay, (Y/N)?”

I refocus and meet Clint’s eyes. “Hm?”

“You were zoning out,” he says. “Are you feeling alright?”

I smile. “I’m good. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?”

I nod and approach the car. “Mhm.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. “Okay, good.”

“Help me into the car?”

“Of course.” He grins and gestures to the open passenger door. “Your chariot awaits.”

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Part 12

How’s that for an ending? I’m pretty fond of it, personally. I promise this isn’t the grand ending, but we’re getting close, I think. But for now, we know that the reader loves her boys, and that’s what really matters.

I’d love to know how you reacted! I always love knowing what you guys think, so please comment, reblog, like, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

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Broken Flock (10/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Okay, so this is mostly fluff, thank goodness. And, finally, some answers about who took her. Nothing canon, but definitely fun to mess with. Anyway, please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of experimentation, brief description of injury

Part 9

“Not that I’m not grateful or anything, but when can I go home?” I ask.

"We want to make sure you're healed enough to be on your own," Steve says. Bucky gives him a very pointed look and he clears his throat. "But I think you should be cleared before the end of the week."

I nod. "Okay."

"You're not going to argue on that?"

I shrug and shake my head. "No. I don't really see any point in doing so. I’m hurt, you’re telling me that I need time to heal. Seems pretty straight forward.”

"I see."

"Was there anything else?" I ask.

“It can wait till you’re feeling better.”

“No, Steve, I’m fine now.” He frowns and I tilt my head to the side. “What is it?”

“What connection do you have to Dr. Danielle Hoffman?”

“I don’t… is she the woman from the barn?” He nods. “Right. I only knew her as the Doctor. No one used real names and I didn’t bother asking for any, but that doesn’t matter. Dr. Hoffman is the reason that I have wings.”

Clint appears beside the bed. “Wait, you fell into her vat of toxic waste?”

“From what she said, yeah, I think so.” I reach over my shoulder and scratch at my left wing. “There were others like me at one point, but I think they’re dead. She probably found them long before me, partially because I wasn’t supposed to exist.”

“How so?”

“I fell into a vat of whatever was leftover from her initial experiments, I think. That’s how I got my wings. She didn’t have an answer when her lackey asked when I was made.” He opened his mouth, but closed it immediately. “What?”

“What’d she do to you? And why?”

“Steve,” Bucky warns. “That’s enough,”

“It’s fine, Buck, I’d rather talk about it than keep it bottled up. Besides,” I reach out and he grabs my hand. “Considering I’m not dead, I probably got off easy. The rest weren’t so lucky.”

“Okay.” He sits beside me on the bed and envelopes my hand in both of his. “You can stop any time.”

“I know,” I murmur. He kisses the side of my head and I smile. Steve clears his throat and I cough awkwardly. “Anyway… the Doctor was incredibly clinical about everything right up until the last few days, but I think she freaked out after a couple guards saw Clint and Bucky lurking around. That was about when they belted down my wings and started actually leaving marks when they hit me. Partially my fault, if I’m being honest.”

“None of that was your fault, (Y/N).”

I nod. “Mm, yeah, except when I punched a guard in the eye and then intentionally egged them on.”

“Why would you do that?!”

“I don’t know! I was tired of being manhandled and jabbed with needles and dragged hither and yon at every hour of the day. When they were told to hit me, something took over and I told them to not puss out.” I laugh before realizing how morbid it sounds. “Stupid as it is, this really isn’t the worst I’ve been hurt. They didn’t really try all that hard when they came at me.”

“That’s still not okay,” Steve says.

“No, I know that. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but they hadn’t gotten a single reaction out of me that they wanted since the first day. Their bark was entirely bigger than their bite.” I lean against Bucky and he sighs. “But in that moment, I realized that you’d found me. It was just a matter of time until you got me out of there.”

“Didn’t figure you’d be in Michigan,” Bucky mutters.

I rub my hand up and down his arm. “Still.”

“Was there anything else you learned about Hoffman?” Steve asks.

“No. I was unconscious during most of the tests. She didn’t want me moving around while she worked. Why?”

Steve shakes his head. “Everything we’ve been able to dig up on her leads back to A.I.M., but after that it’s a dead end.”

“Well that would make sense. A.I.M. focussed on genetics for a long time, right? Aldrich Killian weaponized it, but I doubt he was the first one in the agency to do so.”

“You’re right, but Hoffman hasn’t been associated with A.I.M. for almost twenty years.”

“Even better for her, right? If she’s not under their roof, no one can hover while she experiments on, and inevitably mutilate and kill, live, human specimens. Being out on her own was probably the best thing that happened to her.”

“That… that makes a lot of sense.”

“She probably dragged a bunch of disgraced A.I.M. grunts along with her when she left.”

“She did, actually. There were a handful of private contractors in her crew, but just about everyone has ties to A.I.M..”

“What about that wiry, ratty-looking guy?”

“We’re still looking into him. We don’t have an ID yet, but we do know he was weirdly strong.”

“What if he’s one of her experiments?” I ask. “He seemed to be really close to her, not in the way that an evil boss and henchman are close.”

Steve nods. “You’re probably right, I’ll make a note of that.”

“Thank you.”

Suddenly very tired, I lean heavily against Bucky. I shiver and he wraps his arm around my middle.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod and mumble, “Just really, really tired.”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave and promises to get back to me with any new information he has before I’m released. I thank him and he quickly disappears out into the hall. Only when the doors close does Bucky help me lay down. He lays beside me and Clint drags a chair up to the side of the bed. He pouts and complains about the hospital bed being too small.

I laugh. “It’s stupid uncomfortable, Clint, You don’t wanna be up here anyway.”

“No, I really think I do,” he counters. “Bucky’s been hogging you since we got you back. I’m just waiting my turn.”

“Aw,” I poke Bucky’s stomach and he grabs my hand. “You couldn’t let him cuddle with me for a little bit?”

Bucky shrugs. “The bed’s uncomfortable. He’d hate it.”

“We could probably move to one of our rooms, if we wanted,” Clint suggests. “The beds would be more than big enough for the three of us.”

“Wouldn’t we get in trouble?” I ask, looking between Clint and Bucky.

Bucky glances over his shoulder at Clint, who gives him a pleading look. “I’m sure it’d be fine. We just have to be careful with you and keep an eye on your injuries.”

I nod. "Okay, let's do it, then."

I look up in time to see a grin flash across Clint's face before he can tamp down his excitement. He takes his time moving his chair back to the edge of the room and fiddling with something on the couch. Bucky helps me sit up, but refuses to let me walk to the room. Instead, he loops my arms around his neck and picks me up. He wraps my arms around his waist and signals to Clint that we’re ready to go.

"You got her bag?" Bucky asks.

"Of course I do."

"My bag?"

"I drove back into the city after we got you back and packed up some things I thought you might need," Clint explains. "Just some clothes and your tooth brush, but you can't wear a hospital gown the rest of your life."

"Thanks, Clint." I reach out and he takes my hand. "I really appreciate that."

He smiles and kisses the back of my hand. “Thought you might.”

Bucky’s room is closest and he uses me to lead Clint down the hallway, gently pulling him along by our linked hands. The three of us bundle through the doorway and Clint drops my bag in the chair next to the dresser. Bucky allows me to stand on my own and I move to sift through the bag on the chair.

I find a pair of soft leggings and immediately put them on in place of the thin boxers I was provided. I pull one of my shirts from the bag and stare at it, knowing full well that I won’t be able to wear it. It’s too tight and would rub against my still too sensitive skin. I sigh and let it fall back into the bag.

Clint places a gentle hand on my waist and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t wear my shirts. They’re too tight to get on with my injuries.”

“That’s not a problem,” Bucky says.

He pulls one of his shirts from his dresser and cuts two slits down the back from neck to hem. Clint helps me out of the hospital gown and I readjust the straps of my sports-bra before taking the altered shirt from Bucky. I yank the neck over my head and slowly slip my hands through the arms.

“Where’d you get this?” I ask. “It’s huge.”

Bucky shrugs. “Big shirts are more comfortable to sleep in.” He lifts the middle flap from my right wing, positions it between my shoulder blades, and ties the slits off at the hem. “Is that comfortable?”

I shake out my wings and nod. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

I crawl into the unmade bed and lay on my left side. With one eye closed and the other slightly cracked, I watch Bucky change into a pair of sweats. Clint simply strips off his jeans and climbs onto the bed with me. He pulls me to his chest and pulls the covers up to my chin. Bucky slides in beside me and places his hand on my back. Clint rolls us slightly so that Bucky can press closer without crushing my wings. Clint’s hand presses between my wings while Bucky’s arm snakes around my middle. His hand splays out over my stomach and his warmth practically seeps into my skin.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Bucky asks.

I nod. “I’m just sore now, for the most part.”

“Tell us where it hurts?”

“Pretty much everything from the waist up,” I say. “I think my arms got overextended when they chained me up.”

“I’m so sorry,” Clint murmurs.

“Sometimes it still feels like my wings are strapped down.” I sigh and scrub one hand over my face. “It’s hard to sleep when you guys aren’t there.”

Their arms tighten around me, but neither of them speak. With Clint and Bucky tangled around me, I feel so safe and secure that I can finally just relax. The silence that blankets the room is soothing instead of stifling. There’s no urge to explain away the pain or make excuses.

Bucky kisses the back of my neck and I cover his hand with mine. My body grows heavy and I slowly drift off to sleep.

The door slams open startling the three of us awake. I grip Bucky’s hand and both Clint and Bucky’s arms tighten around me.

“Bucky, she’s gone.”

It’s Steve.

“The hell are you talking about, Rogers?” I manage to say.

“But you-”

“Medbay is cold and silent. It’s easier to sleep here, with them.”

“We’ve got new intel, he says, breezing past what I just said.

“Okay?” I try to bury my head in the pillows. “It can wait till tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Go away, Steve,” Bucky says. “She needs her rest.”

“Yeah, Steve,” Clint muffles his snicker against the pillow. “Go away. She’ll find you tomorrow.”

Steve sighs. “Fine.”

He retreats and the door closes.

Bucky sighs and grumbles something about “getting out of here asap.”

“Steve said I’d be cleared before the end of the week,” I mumble. “I’ll bother him about it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is twelve hours away,” Clint says.

“No,” I poke his stomach and he laughs. “Tomorrow is whenever I can haul myself out of bed, and there’s no telling when that’ll be.”

“Mm, you’re hilarious,” he says dryly.

“It’s why you keep me around, right?”

Bucky snorts. “Go to sleep.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You know that’s not why we keep you around.”

“But it’s one reason?”

“It’s a bonus.”

“Hmm,” I trace my thumb over Bucky’s knuckles. “An acceptable answer.”

“Sleep, (Y/N),” Clint mumbles. “We’re not gonna go anywhere.”

“Okay.” I nod, yawn, and press my nose to his chest. “Okay.”

-----------

Part 11

Finally, finally we can get away from the Hardcore Sad Times and back to interacting with Clint and Bucky (which I think is pretty great, just for my own peace of mind lmao.)

Anyhow, I’d love to see your reactions! I always like knowing what you guys thought, so please comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

Tag List:

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This fic:

@avengerscompound​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @shirukitsune​, @keenmarvellover​, @katebarton15, @feelmyroarrrr​

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (9/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: HELLO, WE HAVE REACHED THE END OF THE ANGST TRAIN, TIME TO DISEMBARK. There will be mentions of Sad Times later on down the road, but as of the last third of this chapter, we’re headed to that happy ending I promised last chapter. Anyway, please enjoy!

Page dividers @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mentions of needles/IVs

Part 8

“We’re certain she’s in there,” Bucky says. “And we need to move now if we’re gonna get her out.”

Steve nods. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“You, Sam, and Nat will focus on the goons and finding whoever’s in charge,” Clint explains. “Bucky and I are going to find (Y/N). We think she’s in the barn, but we can’t go in through the side unless we want the whole thing to come down on top of her.”

“When do we move?” Sam asks.

“As soon as possible. Now, if we can.”

“Then let’s do it,” Steve says.

Bucky pauses. “Really? What about Ross and his bullshit accords?”

“Fuck the Accords,” Steve says. “(Y/N) is our family, and we’re going to do whatever it takes right now to save her. I’m tired of trying to work around his little roadblocks. These bastards wormed their way through his cracks, and we’re going to make sure they pay for what they’ve done.”

“Alright.” Bucky nods. “Then we act now, before they can do anything to prepare for us.”

“Move fast, hit ‘em hard.” Steve nods once. “Understood.”

“Alright.” Clint looks around at the group. “Let’s do this.”

“No one is coming for you.”

“Okay,” I say simply.

My answer is rewarded with a slap across my face and I just let my head fall forward. My chin hits my chest and my eyes close of their own accord. I want nothing more than to curl into a ball and sleep, but the chains around my wrists keep me held up against the wall like some kind of bastardized crucifix.

“You’re ours,” the Doctor declares. She paces in front of me, but I can’t bring myself to look at her. “I will complete my research, and you’re going to help me do it.”

She slaps me again when I don’t say anything. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. She didn’t want me to fight back when she initially captured me, but was intrigued when I did the day before. When I talk back, she hits me. When I don’t react at all, she hits me. There’s no winning with this woman.

My legs begin to give out and the chains around my wrists start to dig in when they’re forced to hold up more weight. I wince and do what I can to keep my feet underneath my body, but I barely have the energy to lift my head.

Someone rushes into the barn and the Doctor stops pacing. They rattle off something that sounds urgent, that needs the Doctor’s immediate attention, but I can’t seem to focus on their words. She shifts back towards me momentarily and I turn my face away from her and squeeze my eyes shut. She makes a frustrated noise before hurrying out into the hallway, grunt in tow.

I give myself a moment to breathe before I try to stand at my full height. My legs shake, but I have just enough time to get a firm grip on the chains and wrap them around my hands once. With just that small adjustment, I can support myself better, even if I can’t fully stand, and the cuffs don’t dig into my wrists the way they did before.

There’s a shout from the hallway, followed by muffled thuds and groans. A herd of thugs thunder past the door. One voice stands out against the rest of the noise, barking out orders, only to be cut off by a distant explosion. A gun fires and I flinch.

Steve, Natasha, and Sam sneak into the main building, careful to not draw attention to themselves. Clint and Bucky don’t waste time with any kind of subtlety.

Clint blasts a hole into the side of the main building with an explosive arrow and Bucky moves through the rubble before the smoke clears. As soon as Clint joins Bucky, they're surrounded by goons. Bucky makes a mental note of the lack of identifying patches on their uniforms before he smacks one of them with the stock of his rifle and throws another into the wall. The man leaves a dent in the plaster and falls to the linoleum in a heap.

Clint takes down large clumps of men with net and putty arrows at the end of the hall opposite their destination. When he's finished, he joins Bucky in mowing through the guards blocking the way to the barn. They're not particularly careful as they go, not paying much attention to the force they use. They're more concerned with getting to (Y/N) than they are with the health of the people who kidnapped her.

They work quickly and methodically until no one is left standing. Clint signals to Bucky when he finds an open door, right about where they initially guessed the barn would be. They freeze as soon as they step through the door.

(Y/N) is strung up by her arms, barely able to keep herself standing. Clint cautiously approaches and finds her face turned away from them, her eyes squeezed shut. He glances back at Bucky, who looks like he wants to throw up, and his stomach clenches. He takes another step towards (Y/N).

“(Y/N),” he says softly. “Open your eyes.”

“Clint?” she croaks.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me. Bucky’s here too.”

Her eyes flutter open and she looks around the barn. Her grip on the chains tightens when she sees her boys. She shakes her head and presses her back against the wall.

“You’re not really here,” she whispers.

“We are,” he says. “I promise we are.”

Clint reaches out and brushes away the tear that’s rolled down her cheek. (Y/N) doesn’t flinch away from his touch like he thought she would. Instead, she presses her cheek to his hand and her bottom lip begins to tremble.

Clint motions for Bucky to come closer, and he slowly approaches, scared that he’ll spook (Y/N) if he’s too loud.

“We’re gonna get you outta here,” Bucky says softly.

He crouches down and breaks the chains at her ankles so that Clint can pick her up and relieve the stress on her wrists. Bucky then snaps the chains on both wrists and her arms fall around Clint’s neck. Bucky reaches up and ghosts his fingertips over her cheek and she blinks. They watch as she slowly realizes that they really have come for her and her face crumples. She covers her mouth with her and as she begins to cry and she presses her forehead to Clint’s chest.

“Come on.” Bucky turns to the door and Clint follows. “We’re leaving.”

“What about Steve, Sam, and Nat?”

“They can catch up.”

“They’re here?” (Y/N) asks. The scratchiness of her voice breaks Clint’s heart.

“Yeah, they helped us find you,” Clint explains.

"Oh." She takes a shaky breath and reaches out to Bucky. "Thank you."

Bucky takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "Nothing to thank us for. We should've been here sooner."

Her head falls back to Clint's chest and all three of them bundle out to the hallway.

Leaving the facility is easy compared to getting in. Every single man they took out on the way in is still in a heap on the floor as they move through the hallway. Clint's arms tighten around (Y/N) as they near their exit point. As soon as they're clear, Clint and Bucky sprint back to the quinjet.

They slow as they reach the line of trees that hide the jet from sight. Bucky lifts his rifle and steps into the brush first. When he knows the coast is clear, he signals for Clint to follow. They lift the ramp as soon as they’re inside. Clint takes a seat with (Y/N) in his lap. He looks up when Bucky makes a sound akin to a growl and finds him with a knife in his hand.

“Bucky?”

“They put belts around her wings,” Bucky grinds out. He kneels at Clint’s feet and pulls one of the straps away from her feathers. She whimpers. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but I gotta get these off.”

(Y/N) just nods and presses her face to Clint’s chest. She presses her fist to her mouth to muffle her noises of discomfort as Bucky saws through the leather. As soon as he tosses the third and final strap to the side, Bucky takes a seat beside Clint and (Y/N) lets her head fall to his shoulder. He places his hand on the back of her neck and kisses the top of her head before tracing over her jaw with his thumb.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he murmurs.

She just shakes her head and loops her arm around his. “S’fine. Kind of my fault.”

“None of this is your fault,” Clint says. “You should’ve been home, safe.”

“But now I’m safe with you.” She grabs Clint’s hand and squeezes gently. “I knew you’d find me.”

Clint and Bucky look at each over her head. Bucky lets out a shaky breath and Clint nods, confirming that he feels the same. Relieved to have her back, but devastated seeing what she’s gone through.

Bucky’s earpiece crackles to life and he presses his finger to, saying, “What is it?”

“Where are you?”

“We’re on the jet. We found (Y/N) and got out of there.”

“Is she alright?” Steve asks.

“She’s injured and exhausted,” Bucky says. He kisses her forehead and she shifts against him. “But she’s alive.”

“Good. We’re just about finished here. Natasha and I are gonna stay behind and wait for reinforcements. We’ll join you upstate once we’ve rounded everyone up.”

“What about Sam?”

“He’ll be flying back with you.” Steve pauses and Bucky hears a heavy thud. “Did you really have to throw them into walls?”

“They were in our way.”

Steve sighs. “Sam’s on his way to meet you. I’m glad she’s safe.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“We’ll see you at the compound.”

The line goes dead and Bucky pockets the earpiece. He relays everything to Clint who simply nods.

By the time Sam makes it back to the quinjet, (Y/N) has fallen asleep and Bucky and Clint are finally starting to relax. They begin to doze as the jet rumbles to life.

I dozed off, somehow. My entire body is sore, and I can’t find the energy to move, but the quiet beeping edging into my consciousness is telling me to wake up. In spite of this, it still takes me several minutes to force my eyes open.

When I manage to crack open one eye, I find that the room is dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner. There’s a couch next to the lamp where Clint and Bucky are fast asleep. Clint has Bucky tucked under his arm and his head is tipped back against the wall as he snores softly. Bucky, with his head on Clint’s chest, has folded his arms and is scowling in his sleep.

Watching the two of them sleep, a feeling of peace washes through me. Clint shifts in his sleep and Bucky presses closer to his side and I smile. I wish I could be over there with them, but just being in the same room is enough for me right now.

I pull the thin blanket up, over my shoulders and hug my arms to my chest, careful to avoid the IV tube. The sounds of their deep, steady breathing lulls me back to sleep.

I wake again later, feeling significantly better than I had before. My back still aches, but I suspect it will for a while due to the abuse my wings took and the time that they were strapped down.

I stretch my arms out in front of me and then scrub my hands over my face.

With my eyes still closed I call out, “Bucky?”

Receiving no answer, I open my eyes and glance around the room, only to find it empty. The lamp in the corner is still the only light on in the room, and my eyes adjust easily. I sigh and slowly sit up. I can’t straighten my back fully yet, but leaning forward slightly allows me to extend my wings and stretch out my back. I stretch my wings out to their full length and I’m surprised when there’s no tug on my feathers.

I wrap my right wing around and am shocked to see that the tar that had covered the primary feathers is gone. I reach around to the left side and find nothing but soft feathers. Even better than clean feathers, none of them are missing. I remember when the Doctor had suggested trimming the tar from my feathers and knowing that wasn’t ultimately necessary almost reduces me to tears.

The sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway makes me freeze. I peek around my wing and wait.

“(Y/N)?” Bucky stands in the doorway, looking like he’s about to drop the phone in his hand. I shift towards the edge of the bed and he darts into the room. “Don’t move, you’re still hurt.”

I nod, but still turn myself to face him and fold my legs underneath myself. He slowly approaches, almost as if he’s worried about spooking me. He stops just short of the bed, and my fingers twitch with the need to have him just a little closer. Close enough to touch. To hold his hand. I reach out to him and curl my fingers into the hem of his shirt and tug him slightly closer. I hesitate a moment before taking his hand. Bucky readily weaves his fingers with mine and lifts our linked hands to kiss my knuckles.

“Please stay with me,” I whisper.

“Of course I will,” he says. He carefully takes my face in his hands and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. He pulls away and swipes his thumb over my cheek. “Of course I will, sweetheart.”

He pulls up a chair and sits beside the bed. He tells me to leave the IV alone and I laugh.

“I haven’t touched it, Buck.”

“Good. You need those fluids.”

“I know.” I squeeze his hands. A shadow appears in the doorway and I glance up and smile. “Clint.”

“You’re awake!” He drags a chair across the room with him and plants himself next to Bucky, only to immediately stand up again. “I wanna hug you so bad.”

I glance between Clint and Bucky, Bucky smiles and nods. I push myself up on my knees and wrap my arms around Clint’s shoulders. His arms circle around my middle and he presses his nose to my shoulder.

“I missed you so much,” I murmur.

“We missed you too,” he says. “We were so worried. I’m sorry it took us so long.”

“You found me.” I comb my fingers through his hair. “Just like I knew you would.”

“You left a note,” Bucky wraps his arms around Clint and I. “We knew you wouldn’t run off again.”

“Never.” I pull away to look at them. “Never again. You’re stuck with me.”

-----------

Part 10

So, how about that happy ending? That’s not the end of it, I promise, but it’s a good start. No more hurting anyone from now on, I promise.

That being said, I’d love to hear about your reactions! I always like knowing what you guys thought, so please comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwihtasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​

This fic:

@avengerscompound​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @shirukitsune​, @keenmarvellover​, @katebarton15

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (7/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Again, this chapter is dealing with really heavy themes that could potentially trigger some readers. Please read at your own discretion.

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Warnings: Kidnapping, panic attack, mentions of sedation, needles

Part 6

Clint and Bucky don’t get home till nearly four in the morning. They stumble up the stairs, exhausted and on the verge of collapsing. They’re determined to make it up to (Y/N)’s apartment before they fall asleep.

They bundle into the apartment and are surprised to find only the stove light on. (Y/N) usually leaves, at least, a couple of lamps left on in the living room and a lamp on in the bedroom. Bucky looks up at Clint, concern evident on his face and Clint squeezes his arm in an attempt to reassure him. Clint moves further into the apartment to check the bedroom, while Bucky investigates the kitchen.

It only takes Clint a moment to flick on the bedroom light before he calls out to Bucky and joins him in the kitchen. He stops short when he sees Bucky hunch in on himself and cover his mouth with his hand.

"What is it?" Clint asks.

Bucky holds up a slip of paper. "Something's wrong."

"What?" Clint turns on the rest of the kitchen lights and takes the paper from him. "She left a note?"

Bucky nods silently and Clint gently pulls him to his chest with one arm. He runs his hand up and down Bucky's back, hoping to keep him calm, while he reads the note.

Hey guys!

I don't know if you'll be back before me, but in case you are, I'm heading out to stretch my wings. After last week I think I need a little break, haha. It's 8:45 right now, but I'll stop by Clint's place to feed Lucky before I head out for the day. I'll have my phone with me if you need to get in contact.

See you when you get home!

(Y/N)

P.S.: I'm not running away again. I promise.

The note falls from Clint's hand and he wraps his arms fully around Bucky. It slowly sinks in that (Y/N)'s been gone for well over twelve hours and Clint begins to panic.

"Maybe she decided to camp out for the night," Clint offers. "She hates being cooped up for too long."

"No, she would've texted or called or something." Bucky takes a deep, shaking breath. "Something's wrong, and you don’t want to admit it."

“Of course I don’t wanna admit it, Buck. She’s-” Tears form in his eyes and he wraps Bucky tighter in his arms. “She’s our girl.”

“We gotta get her back.”

“We will.”

Bucky shakes his head and pulls away. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose her.”

Clint wipes away Bucky’s tears and then his own. “I know. And we’ll find her. I’m gonna call Steve and Nat and Sam. We’re gonna get every single pair of eyes we can on this.”

Bucky covers his face with his hands and Clint tucks him under his chin. They stand silently in the kitchen until they’re able to speak again. Bucky takes a seat on the couch and texts Steve while Clint immediately calls Natasha. He can hear Bucky sniffle and has to force himself to stay where he is.

Natasha is not in a good mood when she picks up.

“It’s four in the morning.”

“I don’t give a shit, (Y/N)’s gone.”

“What do you mean she’s ‘gone’?”

“Bucky ‘n I just got home and she wasn’t here.”

“She probably ran off again. I know you don’t want to hear this, but she’s done it once, she’d probably do it again.”

“The fuck she would, she’s settled here, Nat. She wouldn’t just leave without telling us.”

“You don’t know that.”

Clint’s tempted to break something. “Nat, I’m telling you, she wouldn’t fucking do that. She wouldn’t do that to us. Not again.” His breath catches in his throat and he does his best to hold back his tears. “Please, Nat. We need your help.”

Natasha sighs. “Fine, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Clint sighs, relieved. “Thank you. Would you bring Steve with you? Buck’s getting in contact with him, but we need his help on this.”

“I’ll let him know.” She pauses. “Anyone else you want on this?”

“Sam,” Clint says. “He’s good at this kind of stuff. And I’m gonna call Tony and see if he can help at all. I don’t want him physically looking for her though. We’re already impatient enough as is without adding his stress to the mix.”

“Okay. See you soon.” She hangs up before Clint can say goodbye.

Clint sits on the coffee table in front of Bucky and takes hold of his shaking hands. “Nat’s on her way over with Steve and Sam.”

Bucky nods, but it’s clear that he’s still trying to process what’s happening. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna see if I can get Tony to help us track her phone.”

“Okay.”

“We’re gonna find her, Buck,” Clint murmurs. He kisses Bucky’s knuckles. “I promise.”

“You’re sure she didn’t just leave again?” Natasha asks.

“I’ve already fuckin’ told you, she didn’t just leave,” Clint growls.

“She left a note,” Bucky says. His voice is rough and makes Natasha do a double-take. When she sees his red-rimmed eyes, she realizes how serious this is.

“Can I read it?”

Bucky nods and points to the kitchen counter. Steve picks up the slip of paper and scans over it before handing it to Natasha. Her frown grows deeper the further she reads into the note. She opens her mouth to speak and Clint holds up one hand to stop her.

“We know she’s missing. Her laptop is still here and so is the rest of her stuff.” He wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and sighs. “Like I said. She wouldn’t do this to us.”

“No, Clint I get that. Do you know where she would’ve gone?”

“North,” Bucky croaks out. “We were up there a couple weeks ago. She likes flying up there.”

“Did Stark manage to find her phone?” Steve asks.

Clint shrugs and checks his phone. “I think he’s still working on it. I’ll call him again-”

“No,” Steve says. “It’s alright, I’ll do it.”

Clint absentmindedly rubs circles against Bucky’s shoulder, trying to calm himself more than Bucky at this point. For all of his optimism, Clint knows how much he’s lost throughout his life. He’s lost his brother to the Swordsman, his childhood to abuse and the circus, his mother to his father… Hell, even his shitbrick of a father dying was a loss. But losing (Y/N) a second time overshadows all of that. There’s no time to mourn or process, just an overwhelming need to go, find, rescue. The urge to protect Bucky is there, too, but he knows that Bucky would never fall into his arms like a damsel in distress, even if there’s a tiny part of him that wishes he would. Wishes Bucky would let him take care of him. But he knows that taking care of Bucky means finding (Y/N) first.

Steve interrupts his thoughts, letting them know that Stark’s found the location, and Clint coaxes Bucky to his feet. He grabs his spare bow and quiver from his apartment before they leave the building.

Dawn breaks and brings even more anxiety with it.

They find her phone in the middle of the field Bucky had taken her to not even a month ago. Bucky's heart drops to his feet and he would walk away from all of this if it weren't for Clint's hand on his shoulder.

Bucky crouches down and picks up the phone. The screen is freshly cracked and the battery is nearly dead. He pockets the device and scans the surrounding area for any other sign of human life. He's about to say something when he notices that the top of a nearby tree has been snapped off. He reaches out to Clint and takes off as soon as he's got a hold of his hand.

"What is it?" Clint asks breathlessly.

"Something."

Clint knows better than to try and get anything more out of him when he's like this.

Bucky drags Clint to a clearing littered with crushed leaves, broken branches, and feathers that are too big to have come from any kind of bird. Both men freeze at the sight in front of them and Clint feels nauseous when he notices the dark, tar-like substance stuck to the majority of the feathers.

"I-I saw the broken off trees and I…" Bucky trails off and drops to his knees. "Oh, God."

Clint glances up from the carnage to see Sam hovering in front of a particular tree. He grabs something before he drops to the grass and walks over to Steve. Clint sees him say something about a bag and "Caught on a branch." His stomach clenches and he manages to force himself to walk over and investigate.

Sam turns as Clint approaches and holds out a tattered pack.

“I’m sorry, man,” he says. “This is all I could find.”

Clint reaches out with shaking hands and takes the bag. His breathing stutters. “Shit.”

“Is it hers?”

Clint nods. “Yeah. It’s hers.” He looks around the clearing. “The feathers are hers too, and they’re every-fucking-where.”

Clint watches Natasha prod at a clump of feathers. She frowns when she touches the tar-like goop and a string of it pulls away with her fingers. She scowls and walks away, making a note on her phone. Bucky’s wandered over to the one clear space in the middle of the grass and Clint joins him. He takes Bucky’s hand in his and hopes it’s at least a little comforting.

“She fell here,” Bucky murmurs, tracing a vague indentation in the grass. “And then it's like she just disappeared.”

Clint shakes his head. “She didn’t disappear, Buck. She was here. We’ll find her.”

He kisses the side of Bucky’s head and wraps him in a tight hug. Bucky hesitates, but slowly wraps his arms around Clint’s middle and presses his nose to his chest. Clint notices Natasha speaking with Steve and his brows pull together when she glances back at him before talking to Steve again. He sees her say “shot down” and “kidnapped” and the hopelessness starts to settle in again.

There’s something wrong with my left wrist. Probably a sprain. Both of my wings are sore from tip to shoulder, but I think I twisted my right wing on the way down to the ground. My ribs are probably fractured after snapping so many branches, and it’s hard to breathe. Secondary to all of that, every inch of exposed skin stings with little tiny scrapes and cuts.

I have to take my time in sitting up and wince when my wings stretch a little too far. There’s something that’s stopping my feathers from fanning out to the point that any kind of movement slowly becomes painful. I slowly extend my left wing, hoping to investigate whatever's stuck to my feathers and stare in confusion at the mess of black goo covering the majority of my secondaries. Cautiously, I reach out and try to remove some of it, and I only succeed in pulling a feather loose. I swear and flick the goo that came away on my fingers to the floor.

I sigh and try to fold my legs underneath myself, but my motions are inhibited by a pair of shackles around my ankles. A long length of chain tethers the shackles to the floor. With that, in combination with the crippling soreness that's starting to settle deep into my bones, I realize that I'm not getting out of here any time soon. Wherever here is.

I shuffle back until my back hits the wall and my eyes slowly begin to adjust to the low light in the room. It looks like I’m being held in a small barn. Little slivers of light creep through cracks in the walls and fall across my hands, revealing every little cut and scrape. I sigh and angle myself so that I can reach the goop on my left wing. I lick the pads of my fingers and try to work some of the stuff from my feathers. It’s slow going, but I manage to avoid pulling out any more feathers.

Eventually, I can’t keep up with cleaning myself, and exhaustion settles in every inch of my body. I curl into myself and doze off.

“An excellent specimen, Doctor.”

I don’t recognize this voice. The sounds of conversation slowly creep in at the edges of my consciousness. I keep my head down and just listen.

“As it should be, I made the serum!”

“When was she made?”

“I can’t be sure. It was not a procedure that I performed. I believe she was an accident.”

“Ah, well, you know what Bob Ross says.”

The second voice laughs. “I think you’re onto something, there, my friend.”

It takes a moment for it to register that these people are the reason I have my wings. And they’re just talking about me like I’m some kind of animal. An experiment.

One of them begins to pace in front of me. “It appears that she’s been sleeping for nearly twelve hours. Should we be concerned?”

“No, the serum imparts a sort of healing factor. The fastest way for her to heal is to sleep.” The shift and their shoes scrape along the concrete floor. “That being said, I don’t know the extend of her injuries. And her breathing has changed since we started speaking.”

The one pacing stops mid-stride. “She’s listening.”

“Precisely.”

Their footsteps approach and I panic. Fingers sink into my hair and wrench my hair back. I’m forced to look up at the woman who had previously been referred to as the Doctor. Out of the corner of my eye, I can just barely see the wiry young man that holds my head back.

“What should we do with her?” the young man asks. “Do you think she’s ready for tests.”

“Please,” my voice comes out scratchy. “Please, don’t.”

“I’m not sure,” the woman says. She begins to pace. “On the one hand, I’ve been waiting for weeks to capture her. Her strength and speed are unlike any of our previous subjects. I’m curious to see what makes her different from the others.”

“But?”

“But she’s been very clearly hurt.”

The man’s hold on my hair tightens and I whimper. He just tugs harder and I force my hands to stay where they are in my lap.

“We’ve been very careful in the past,” he says slowly. “We’ll sedate her. Keep her limbs still. She won’t feel a thing.”

“That is true…” I catch the wicked glint on her eyes and my stomach churns.

The young man laughs in my ear. “Excellent.”

“We’ll have to trim the tar from her feathers.” The doctor shakes her head. “Shame. They’re so beautiful.”

“Don’t touch my wings,” I plead. “Please.”

They just carry on as if I’ve said nothing. I watch the man grin, his eyes crazed. The doctor gestures towards the door and several large figures bundle into the barn. They all stalk over, arms outstretched and ready to grab me. I try to shrink away, but the man holding my head is stronger than he looks, and I can’t move an inch.

Hands latch onto my wrists, ankles, and wings, and I cry out in pain. I go limp in an attempt to make myself too heavy to carry, but they just twist my wings back to fold them. I bite down on my tongue to keep every whimper, groan, and sob from surfacing. My wrist and right wing scream out white-hot pain and, each time they jostle me around, a new jolt of pain lances through my body.

The three men dump me face down onto a metal table and roughly strap my arms and legs down. I beg them to leave me. To let me go. To just let me go. Nothing I say seems to reach their ears and tears streak down my cheeks by the time they wench my wings down to the table. Two large clamps descend from the ceiling and pin my wings to the table. I’m stuck and in pain.

The doctor appears at the edge of the room and she slowly approaches me. She seemed hesitant earlier. Maybe there’s some way I can reason with her?

“Please, don’t do this,” I plead. “You don’t have to do this. Please.”

She grabs my face and turns it from side to side. I whimper and pull against my restraints when she twists my head a little too sharply.

“You don’t understand,” she says. She presses my cheek to the table and my entire body seizes up as I feel someone slowly inserting a needle into my neck. “I want to.”

Her manic grin is the last thing I see as the world goes black. The hum of electricity fills my ears and my body goes completely limp.

-------

Part 8

So that was a ROUGH chapter, but I promise that there will be a happy ending I just need you guys to trust me on this.

If you’d like to yell at me, absolutely comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask.

If you would like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace​, @sian22redux​, @skeletoresinthebasement​, @lady-thor-foster​, @jazzcutie​, @gaytonystark​, @geeksareunique​, @nyxveracity​, @breezy1415​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @darling-loki​, @lemonadeorange73​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​

This fic:

@avengerscompound​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @shirukitsune​, @keenmarvellover​

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (8/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Okay, I can say, for sure, that this chapter is the end of Pain Pain Pain. Chapter nine will see things start to actually look up and head towards getting better. However, this chapter still does touch on some serious themes that could potentially trigger some readers, so please read at your own discretion.

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Warnings: Anxiety, needles, canon typical violence, general angst

Part 7

“There’s no news,” Steve says.

“Then we need to go further,” Bucky insists. “We don’t know who these people are. We don’t know how they operate and we don’t know where they’d go.”

“I know, Buck, we’re doing what we can with what we’ve got, but we can’t just rush into this without a plan.”

“There’s no proper procedure for this, Steve! The option is to go out, and look. That is the plan. She didn’t disappear on a busy street corner, she was shot down in the middle of the fucking woods and dragged away. If we don’t rush into it, she could be dead by the time we find her.” Bucky curls his hands into tight fists on the table. “She’s already been missing for three days. If we don’t do something fast…”

Steve nods. “I know.”

“I’m gonna pull Stark in on this.”

“Buck-”

“He’ll at least have recent satellite footage we can use.” He shoves back from the table and heads for the door.

“Don’t put this on Tony,” Steve says. “He’s already made himself sick worrying about her.”

“I don’t know what else to do here, Steve. Either we put a team together and get our asses in gear, or I’m going to start tearing the countryside apart till I find her.”

Steve sighs. “Fine. You and Clint start your search. I’ll work with Nat and Sam on this end and we’ll do what we can to help.”

Bucky pauses and looks Steve over. “You sure?”

“Yeah. You have an idea of where to start, so you should go with that. We’ll get everything sorted out here and keep you updated.”

Bucky nods. “I’ll be in touch.”

He breezes out of the room, immediately in search of Clint. Steve sighs and calls Natasha and Sam to meet him.

Clint is with Natasha when Bucky finds him. He places his hand on Clint’s shoulder to get his attention and Natasha excuses herself from the room.

“What is it?” Clint asks.

“We’ve got the green light to start looking for her.”

Clint shoots up from the couch. “Really?”

Bucky nods. “Steve almost didn’t agree.”

“You threatened him with Tony, didn’t you.”

“Yes.”

Clint almost laughs, but clamps his hand over his mouth. His hand moves to the back of Bucky’s neck and he presses their foreheads together.

“We’re gonna get her back, Buck.”

“I know.” Bucky wraps his arms around Clint. “We should leave soon.”

“Yeah,” Clint sighs. “Come on. Let’s get the hell outta here.”

“They’ll find me,” I whisper to myself. “I left a note. They’ll find me.”

With my head between my knees, I close myself in my wings. I rock back and forth, trying to find some kind of comfort in myself. I don’t have my shoes anymore and my pant legs are little more than shreds at this point. The jacket I wore when I first arrived is long gone and my shirt was traded out for a thin tank top a long time ago, leaving me with little more than my own down to keep myself warm.

I don’t know where I am or how long I’ve been here, but I do know that Clint and Bucky would never leave me here to rot. Just thinking about how worried they must be brings tears to my eyes. Guilt settles in my stomach and I swipe my tears away before they fall. Crying isn’t going to get me anywhere, and it’ll definitely just leave me more dehydrated and sore than I already am.

The door slams open and I jerk my head up, but hold my wings tighter around me. Through gaps in my feathers, I can see their shadow as they move through the barn. I watch as they pace around the space in front of me. They stop abruptly and I clamp one hand over my mouth to muffle my gasp when they approach me. They grab the chain attached to the manacles around my ankles and I silently beg them to drop it. They take several steps forward with the chain in their hand and they chuckle when they see me curl around myself even further.

Finally, they drop the chain and stop just in front of me. I bite down on my fist in an attempt to stay as quiet as possible.

“Arm.” I don’t say anything or move, and they kick me, laughing when they hear me wince. “I said arm, you dumb fucking bird.”

I slowly extend my right arm between my wings and they grab my wrist and yank me forward. I fall forward onto my knees and catch myself with my left hand. I refuse to look up at them, knowing that they’ll only try to hurt me further.

I’ve realized, in the time that I’ve been here, that they need me alive and in one piece for their tests, but they don’t necessarily care about hurting me. This man is no exception.

“Y’know,” he says idly. “I can’t figure out why they care about keeping you alive. They never did with the others. Went through the first ones like wildfire.”

He jabs a needle into my arm and I turn my face away to avoid the sight of my own blood. He doesn’t do anything to hurt me further, but I still flinch when he pulls the needle out. I shiver and clutch my arm to my chest when he lets go and I see his shadow shake its head.

“They think you’re somethin’ special, but I don’t see it. You look just like every other bird freak that’s been through here. Only difference is that you’re alive and awake.” He crouches down and tips my head up with a finger under my chin. I can see the detachment from what he’s doing in his face, which makes my anxiety spike. “You haven’t been nearly as interesting as the rest, though. Don’t struggle as much. Why?”

“I don’t know,” I croak out.

“Huh.” He grabs my jaw and tips my head from one side to another. “They’ll take you apart, one little bit at a time, till there’s nothing left. You know that, right?”

“Oh.”

“Mmm, and I’ll be there to see it, too. Might even get to help out a little.” His grip on my jaw tightens and I whimper. “I look forward to it.”

I can't stop myself from asking, "Why?"

"You're so innocent and scared." He squeezes my cheeks and his face morphs into something crazed and animalistic. "That little doe eyed look is exactly why."

I don’t say anything and the light in his eyes seems to dim as he loses interest. He shoves me to the side and gestures for someone at the door before he stands up and walks off. Someone new shuffles in and crouches in the same place as the man before. They reach out to my arm and I jerk away from them, only succeeding in cracking my head against the wall. They sigh, shuffle closer, and press two fingers to my pulse. They take their count and then grab at my arm again, and their fingers wrap around my wrist.

“You’re ice cold,” they say.

“I sleep in a fucking drafty ass barn, of course I’m cold,” I mutter.

They hum and squeeze my wrist momentarily before standing and dropping a paper bag at their feet.

“Get some rest,” they say. “You’ll need it.”

They leave and I wait till the door closes to reach out to the bag. Inside, I find a chunk of bread, a couple of slices of cheese, a small apple, and a bottle of water. I nearly  ball up the bag and chuck it across the barn, but my stomach growls. I sigh and reach into the bag and take out each item, placing the bread, apple, and cheese in my lap. I set the water on the floor and tear the bag open to make a sort of placemat. I reorganize the food on the torn up bag and stare at it, momentarily wondering why the hell I even set it up like this.

I shake my head and eat what little food I’ve been given.

“Found anything?”

“Some locals have been shooed off their land recently,” Clint says. “They saw some weird shit going down a few weeks back and now they’re being asked to leave.”

“I think they said someone offered to buy their plots to try and get them to leave,” Bucky adds.

“Weird,” Sam says. “They got any idea where these people are holed up?”

“Not from what we can tell,” Clint sighs. “I think they’re too freaked out to try and look into it.”

“Which is understandable, considering the firepower some of these goons apparently have,” Bucky shakes his head. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to just find one guy.”

“I know, Buck.”

“I might be able to help with that.”

“How?”

“We’ve been cleared for aerial recon. I’ll be flying out around the area you’re in later today. See if there’s anything I can find that you can’t see on the ground.”

“How long have you been working on this?” Bucky asks.

“I put in a request the day after you talked to Steve. Had a helluva time trying to get Ross to agree, but Stark suggested that there’d be no way anyone would ever sign the accords if he let one of their own disappear without a trace.”

“Thank him for us,” Clint says.

“Will do.”

Anxious to get the search underway, Bucky asks, “How soon can you get out here?”

“I’ll be there in about an hour.”

“Great, we’ll go back over what we’ve got and send you anything useful. Has Natasha found anything since she last called?”

“Not much, but I’ll let her know you could use whatever she’s got.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. See you guys soon.”

“See you.”

Sam hangs up and Bucky leans back in his seat.

“That’s good news,” Clint says. “We’ll be able to cover more ground now. Find her faster.”

Bucky nods absently. “It’s been almost a week.”

“I know.” Clint takes Bucky’s hand. “We’ll find her. She’s strong, we’ll-” his voice breaks and he takes a deep breath. “We’ll get her back.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up into a smile. “You keep saying that.”

“Because we will.”

“Say it enough times, and it’ll come true, right?”

Clint nods. “Exactly. She’s probably doing her best for us. We have to be strong for her too.”

“I know.” Bucky takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. “We’ll find her.”

“We will.” Clint kisses the back of Bucky’s hand. “We absolutely will.”

“Yeah, this place looks real sketchy.”

“Explain,” Bucky says.

“The barn is old and rickety, probably a little too close to falling down to keep any kind of livestock in. There’s a building that’s attached though, and it’s newer.”

“Can you get a closer look?”

“Not a chance. Shit’s on lock-down. At least twenty guys around the perimeter, and who knows what else inside.”

Bucky sighs and lays back in the grass. “We’ve been watching this dump for two days. We’re pretty fuckin sure she’s in there. Can we please just rush in and start shooting?”

“Not yet,” Clint says.

“Please, Clint.”

“Give it a day, man,” Sam says. “Let them get a little restless and see what they do. They might just bring (Y/N) to us.”

“It’d give us time to get Steve and Nat up here,” Clint adds. “Extra hands on this would make it easier for us to focus on getting to (Y/N) instead of avoiding getting shot.”

“Fine. But only because we could use the help.”

“I’ll do another lap and then I’m headed back to the compound. I’ll call you guys when we’ve got a plan of attack.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Clint says. “We’ll talk to you soon.”

They hang up and Bucky reaches out for Clint’s hand. Clint laces their fingers and sighs softly.

“We’re so close,” Bucky mutters.

“I know. She’s less than a mile away now.” Clint’s gaze is distant.

Bucky recognizes Clint closing himself off, preparing for the worst. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“You’re shutting down.” Bucky sighs and squeezes Clint’s hand. “She’s not dead.”

“Buck…”

“If she were, they wouldn’t need so many guards.”

“I know, I’m just… I’m just worried.”

“I know.”

Clint flops down beside him and rolls onto his side. “You’re not supposed to be the optimist here.”

“Yeah well, it’s not fun to be pessimistic if we’re both dragging each other down.” Bucky looks over at Clint and offers a small smile. “We’re close. We’ll get her back. There’s no other option.”

“Did you hear what Todd was saying earlier?”

"What're you talking about, man?"

"He said scanners picked up on two bodies a little over a mile away."

"No shit?"

"Yeah, and there was something buzzing by the barn yesterday and today. Said boss lady's real freaked out."

"You think it could be the Avengers?"

The first man laughs. "Why the hell would the Avengers be interested in us? It's not like we've done anything to them."

"I dunno, man. What about this chick?"

"What about her?"

"I think she was with the Avengers for a while. Like I think I saw her on TV at one point."

"Nah, man, that was the Falcon. There's only one Avenger with wings and it's a dude in a suit. We're home free."

“I dunno, man… I got a bad feeling about that.”

“Look, it’s two guys. What can they do against all of us?”

The second man laughs hesitantly. “I guess you’re right.”

I cough into my elbow and freeze when their eyes snap to me. I curl into myself, hoping that they’ll just ignore me and go back to their conversation.

“You got something to add, freak?” the first man asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

He squints at me. “You think someone’s looking for you?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur.

“How the fuck do you not know?”

Anger flares in my stomach. “I don’t know what time it is most of the time. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. So forgive me if I don’t know jack fuckin shit about whatever it is you two are bickering about in your little doorway over there.”

The first man squinted at me and gestured to his friend. “Get the boss.”

“Which one?”

“Both of ‘em.”

“Oh shit.”

The second man ran off in search of the bosses. I can only assume the first man meant the Doctor and her right hand man. I think I’d be worried, if I didn’t know that the Doctor wants me alive for whatever other tests she’s got planned. Besides that, my mind is buzzing with what the two men were talking about. Just the idea of Clint and Bucky knowing where I am fills me with just a little hope.

The second man returns, flanked by three burly guards, followed by the Doctor and her right hand man. The two men from before and the guards wrestle me up from the floor and I do what I can to push back against them. My legs are still shackled to the floor, so I can't get far, but I manage to punch one of the guards in the eye. He stumbles back, clutching his face.

"Don't fucking touch me," I hiss.

The Doctor’s right hand steps up and slaps me across the face. My head snaps to the side and heat blooms in my cheek. The guard I punched kicks me in the stomach, forcing the air from my lungs. I hang in the grip of my captors and they force me onto my knees. I glance up to find the Doctor leaning over me, holding something out to her right hand. He forces my wings flat against my back and he works with the Doctor to belt them down.

“Chain her up,” the Doctor instructs. “Don’t touch her wings, and don’t break any bones.”

She’s answered with a chorus of “Yes, ma’am.” and she walks out of the barn.

“What do we do, boss?” the first man asks.

The right hand tuts. “You hit her, of course, you empty headed morons.”

“Don’t be a puss about it,” I add. I’m going to regret egging them on, but there’s only so much they can do to me, and Clint and Bucky are so close. “Really make it count.”

“Oh, believe me, bird girl,” the right hand says. “We will.”

-----------

Part 9

Honestly, I do not like hurting characters, and I promise we’re nearly at the end of the pain. It’s totally cool if anyone’s still kind of upset with me lmao

As always, I’d love to hear what you guys think, so please comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

Tag List:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23 @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement​, @lady-thor-foster​, @jazzcutie​, @gaytonystark​, @geeksareunique​, @nyxveracity​, @breezy1415​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @darling-loki​, @lemonadeorange73​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​

This fic:

@avengerscompound​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @shirukitsune​, @keenmarvellover​

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (6/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Please understand that the end of this chapter will be quite heavy and potentially triggering for some people,. Please read at your own discretion and forgive me for the ending. That is all.

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Heights, falling, drugging, passing out

Part 5

“(Y/N),” Clint mumbles. He shakes my shoulder and I groan. “(Y/N), there’s someone at the door.”

“Hmm?”

“Someone’s knocking,” he mumbles.

Clint rolls over and goes back to sleep. I sit up and glare at him before rubbing my eyes and shoving myself up from the bed. It takes a moment for the knocking sounds to reach my ears and I scrub my hands over my face in frustration. I suddenly find myself wishing I hadn’t taken down my “No Solicitation” sign.

They knock harder and louder and I can’t stop myself from yelling, “Knock it off! You bang any harder, you’re gonna have to marry the fucking door, or some shit.”

The knocking doesn’t die down and I swing the door open only to immediately freeze. Steve stands out in the hallway with Natasha at his side.

“(Y/N),” he says.

“Aw, fuck.”

I slam the door closed and immediately run back to my bedroom. Clint still hasn’t moved and stirs slightly when my wings brush against him as I race past. I grab my bag from the chair in the corner and yank the window open. Clint sits up and blinks against the afternoon light, confused.

“Why’re you climbing out the window?”

“Steve and Nat were at the door.” I flatten my wings against my back, but can’t seem to fit through the window. “Gonna fuckin kill me if they catch me.”

“Why?”

“Slammed the door in their faces.”

Clint covers his face with his hands and flops back down onto the bed with a groan. “This is it. This is the day I die.”

“Not yet.”

I whip around to find Natasha and Steve stepping into the room. I sigh heavily and drop my bag to the floor. Steve folds his arms across his chest and Natasha follows suit.

"I'm surprised Bucky's not here," Natasha continues.

"He got stuck at the tower last night with work. Otherwise, he would be," Clint explains. He pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks directly at her. "What're you doing here, Nat?"

"You weren't home, figured we'd try the one other place you've been known to disappear to." She looks very pointedly at me and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Why didn’t you tell us you were back?”

“Because I’m not,” I answer. “I’m in town. That’s it.”

“We know you were up near the Compound last week, (Y/N),” Steve says. “Why were you anywhere near there if you’re not back?”

“Bucky took me upstate to stretch my wings. It’s harder to do so unnoticed in the city.”

“Why were you near the compound?”

“What is this with this interrogation?” Steve simply raises his eyebrows, silently telling me to answer the question. I sigh and shake my head. “I got a little off course and didn’t realize where I was until it was too late. I redirected as soon as I saw the first building, but even then I was probably half a mile away, maybe more.”

‘I see.“

“How’d you know it was me anyway?”

“Asked Sam what got picked up on the scanner. He said it was just a big bird,” Steve explains. “But, you’re way too big a blip to just be a big bird.”

“No, she’s a big ass bird,” Clint corrects. “Massive difference.”

“Clint, you’re not helping,” I say. I perch on the bed beside him and he reaches out and places his hand on my knee. “Still doesn’t explain why you decided to make the trip out here to see us.”

“We just wanted to see you for ourselves, (Y/N),” Natasha says. “It’s been two years. You can hardly blame us for needing to double check.”

“Could’ve just asked.”

“You say that like you would’ve actually answered.”

“You wouldn’t have to ask me. Clint and Bucky are more than capable of giving you the information.” I press my lips together. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell anyone I was coming back.”

“Then why did you come back?” Natasha asks.

“Because I missed my idiots.”

“Aw,” Clint squeezes my knee. “You’re so nice, (Y/N).”

“Nah, I’m an asshole. Everyone knows it.”

“Mm, yeah, but we’ve always hoped for better from you,” he says, dumb smile on his face.

I snort. Everyone’s head turns when the door opens and shuts. Keys clatter against the kitchen counter and I sigh in relief.

“(Y/N)? You here?”

“In the bedroom!” I call back.

Bucky wanders into the room, yanking his sweatshirt over his head. Clint laughs when he nearly crashes into Steve. He just barely misses, but looks around in confusion when he can finally see again.

“The hell is this?” he asks, gesturing between Steve and Natasha.

“She couldn’t get through the window fast enough,” Clint explains.

“Clint, that’s even more confusing,” Bucky says.

Clint gestures with a flourish. “I live to serve.”

Bucky shakes his head and skirts around Steve and Natasha before crawling onto the bed and sprawling out between Clint and I. I squawk at him about having his shoes on my duvet and he kicks them off onto the floor. He shuffles up the bed and props his chin up on my calf. I comb my fingers through his hair and he sighs and melts into the mattress.

“We’re fine here, guys,” Clint says. “(Y/N) is working on her own deal, and Bucky and I are still obviously engaged with the team. Our priorities haven’t changed.”

“Are you sure?” Natasha asks.

“Nat, we spent two years looking for her and now we’re coming home to her at the end of the day. So, yeah,” he glances over at me and smiles. “I’m sure.”

“Fine.” She grabs Steve’s arm and steers him out of the room. “We’ll see you bright and early on Monday, then.”

Bucky and Clint wave to them as they leave and, only when the door closes for the final time, do we allow ourselves to fully relax. I coax Bucky onto his side and shimmy down the bed to lie beside him. He wraps his arms around me and keeps his metal arm held tight to my body while stroking one of my wings with the other to avoid pinching.

“So it seems like you guys’ve had an eventful day,” Bucky mumbles against my shoulder.

“(Y/N) slammed the door in their faces,” Clint says.

“Oh shit, really?”

“Yeah. Then she tried to climb out the window to get away, but her wings are too big and she can’t get through this one.”

“No, my wings are fine,” I correct. “The window’s too small.”

“Ah, ” Bucky hums. “Blaming windows, now, are we?”

I flick his ear and he laughs. “I am not blaming windows.”

“Then what are you blaming?”

“Myself for not finding a bigger window.”

“Oh, duh, obviously.”

I shake my head and press a little closer to his chest and reach out for Clint with one hand. Clint takes it and laces our fingers together. Clint curls himself around Bucky’s back and asks him about his day. Bucky complains about being stuck at the Tower the entire day yesterday, forced to sit in an hours long conference with General Ross, debating the viability and sustainability of the proposed Sokovia Accords. Steve, Bucky, Tony, and Rhodey had entered the call having read everything in the packets they’d been provided multiple times and had essentially been talked at and over the entire time they were in the conference. By the end of it, even Tony was starting to lose his cool, and he’d gone into the call most willing to comply with the Accords.

“So Ross acted like he wasn’t talking to a handful of the world's most dangerous people?” I ask.

“I could pop that guys head like a pimple, and he acted like I was a dumb little three year old,” Bucky says. “Steve was able to stay calm enough to get in contact with a few other people who helped draft the Accords and we were allowed to write up our own edits, but we have twenty four hours to do so.”

Clint sighs. “What time did you manage to get to sleep last night?”

“Five in the morning, I think. Can’t really remember. We worked in shifts with the rewrites, so I think Stark and Rhodes are working on it right now. Steve’s gonna have Nat go back through and see if there’s anything she’d add before we throw the damn thing at the General’s fuckin head.”

“I could help, if you want,” I offer. "I've got great aim."

Bucky laughs. "Thanks, but I'm pretty sure that'd get us into more trouble than we're already in."

“Ah, well, maybe next time then.”

Clint snorts. “You two hungry at all?”

“Eh,” Bucky responds. “I could eat. (Y/N)?”

I shrug. "I'll probably want something by the time we finish cooking."

Clint grins at me over Bucky's shoulder. "Great. What's on the menu, guys?"

Tuesday morning, the door flies open at exactly 10:35. I'm standing in the middle of the kitchen, breakfast in hand, and nearly drop the bowl at the sound of the front door slamming into the wall.

"Hope you're decent, cause I'm coming in anyway!" a familiar voice calls.

I groan and put my breakfast on the counter. “Go home, Tony!”

He appears from the entryway and grins. “That’s no way to treat a guest, (Y/N).”

“I didn’t invite you!”

“I’m happy to see you, too.”

I roll my eyes. “Why are you here?”

He walked through the apartment, looking around, his head tilted to the side. “Heard my favorite winged killing machine was back in town, and I had to see it for myself.” He frowns at my furniture before he looks back at me. “You still live in this dump?”

“It’s not a dump, it’s my home. Clint does a great job of maintaining this place.”

“It’s a run down tenement building.”

“It’s an old ass brick building in the middle of New York City. It’s holding together as best it can. That doesn’t mean it’s a dump.” I lean against the counter and silently beg him to leave. “If you just wanted to see if I was here, you’d buzz by in one of your suits, but that’s not the case. So, why are you actually here?”

“So suspicious.” He tuts and shakes his head. “What do you take me for?”

“Someone who doesn’t have a lot of normal friends.”

“Did you get meaner while you were gone?”

“Tony, you broke into my home. I’m allowed to be a little mean.”

He sighs and his shoulders slump slightly. “Fine, I need someone to talk to, and I know you won’t judge me.”

“Why didn’t you call ahead? I’m assuming Steve and Nat told everyone I’m back.”

“I figured you’d find some way to be out when I showed up.”

“Tony, I have a job and I work from home. This is the only place I’d be.”

“A job?”

“Yes, a job.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Will you at least hear me out?”

“I don’t know, Tony, I’ve got a lot to do today…” He hits me with his puppy-dog look and I cave immediately. “Fine, you can stay. But you have to let me work while you talk.”

“Won’t that distract you?”

“No, I need external stimulus when I work sometimes. Usually that’s music, but I guess you’ll do.”

Tony launches into a long explanation of the issues with the Accords while I set up my work stuff for the day. I interject where I can and he seems surprised when I manage to keep up. I simply finish my breakfast and do the dishes before starting on work for the day. When Tony starts pacing, I turn slightly on the couch so that I can face him. After a bad experience with Bruce a few years back, Tony needs to know that the person he’s talking to is paying attention.

Tony keeps at it for three hours before he stops to ask for a glass of water and starts up again when he’s hydrated. By the end, I’m starting to understand how Bruce could fall asleep while Tony talks.

“Does that make sense?” Tony asks.

“Honestly, I totally get where you’re coming from, but none of that shit in Sokovia was your fault.”

“I don’t know...”

“Tony, you did what you could when it was happening, and even more after the dust settled. There’s no going back to fix that now. But do you honestly think that the Accords are a good idea? I mean, Bucky was talking to Clint and I about them a few days ago and they sound awful. Like literal grade-A bullshit.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know about you, but if I were being attacked on the street, I’d want someone to help me right then and there, not ask their boss for permission first. What if people are in danger and your superiors decide that they’re not a priority?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. And on top of that, people like me, people with powers and shit, just minding our own business, could potentially have to sign. If we don’t we could face prison time.” I sigh. “I’m not saying you’re wrong on any account, because it’d be great if the Avengers could get help from government agencies again, but I don’t think this is the right way to do it. Especially when you’re so used to being your own boss.”

“Right, but-”

“Tony, you asked for my opinion. I’m not gonna tell you that I’m one hundred percent right, this is just how I feel. I know that Steve and Bucky are pretty on the fence with the Accords as well.”

“That’s true.”

“I know Ross sent your revisions back, but you have to keep pushing this until they give up on the document, or you get your way. Just… whatever happens, you have to stick to your guns.”

“Right. I need to trust my gut.”

“That’s not what I said.”

The front door opens and Tony and I both look to see who it is.

“(Y/N), we’re back!” Clint calls.

“Oh, so he can come and go as he pleases, but I show up and you’re mad?”

“He has a key, and he’s not breaking down my door. Yes he can come and go as he pleases.”

Clint and Bucky stop short as they enter the living room.

“Didn’t realize you’d have company today,” Bucky says.

“I didn’t realize I’d have company today,” I shoot back. “He invited himself in.”

“That’s not nice, Tony,” Clint admonishes. “You know how private she is.”

Tony scowls. “I needed her advice!”

“Call ahead next time.”

Tony shakes his head and pushes himself up from the chair he eventually settled in. “I’ll take this as my cue to leave.” He stops just before he reaches the entryway. “Will we be seeing you around at all?”

I shake my head. “Probably not, no.”

“Shame.” He waves over his shoulder as he heads for the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

The front door closes one last time and I close my laptop and lie down on the couch. Clint sits on the floor in front of me and places my laptop on the coffee table.

“How long was he here?” he asks.

“Hours. Literal hours. He wanted to talk about the Accords.”

“Seriously?”

“I think he’s kind of waffling on his stance with the whole thing. Blames himself for the stuff that they’re citing as the reasons behind the Accords. But that’s bullshit, because they’ve probably been trying to figure out a way to put a leash on people like us for years, Sokovia was just the catalyst.” I turn over onto my front and sigh. “I don’t wanna be someone’s therapist!”

“Definitely not a good idea. You’re not qualified.”

“Super not qualified!” I cry.

“Well,” Bucky says. “He’s gone now, so we might as well chill out and have dinner.”

“What’s for dinner?” I ask.

“Takeout from the Chinese place down the street.”

“Ooh,” I push myself up from the couch. “I love their sweet and sour pork.”

Bucky smirks. “I know you do.”

I bound over to the kitchen and hug him tightly. “You’re the best.”

He laughs and I squeal when he hooks his hands under my thighs and picks me up. “I know I am.”

“Alright, strongman, put me down. Dinner’s getting cold, and Clint’s probably hungry.”

Bucky lets go and kisses the side of my head as soon as my feet touch the floor. We grab plates and flatware and set up the food around the coffee table. We eat and talk and laugh, and Clint eventually misses his dog and goes back to his apartment to get Lucky. Bucky leaves on a mission in the morning and has to go back to the tower. I go to bed alone.

Over the next week I see a pretty steady stream of old friends waltzing through my door. Sam drops in on Thursday to apologize again and overstays his welcome by two hours. Bruce stops by on Friday to drop off a tin of tea and a book he’d been holding onto since I left. I refuse to turn him away and ask if he wants to stay and stare a pot of tea. We talk for a few hours and I hug him before he leaves. Saturday sees Wanda, Natasha, and Rhodey in quick succession and I take to hiding in Clint’s apartment because I don’t have either him or Bucky through the weekend to act as a buffer. Bucky and Clint leave for a long mission Sunday night and by Tuesday, I’m able to go back to work in my own apartment. I finish my final project by four in the evening and let myself relax for the rest of the night.

Wednesday morning, I wake up restless and decide to go flying. I pack myself snacks and water and leave a note for Clint and Bucky in case they’re back before I am. Before I leave I drop by Clint’s apartment to feed and love on Lucky for a little bit. When I’m thoroughly covered in his hair, I say goodbye and head up to the roof for takeoff.

Flying through the city is different from the country. I have to fly higher than I’d like in order to get out of the smog, and even then I have to worry about avoiding buildings. For all it’s wonders, New York City feels like a bunch of hazards all shoved together and populated past it’s bounds. But still, it’s home. Apparently.

I decide to see how far I can get before my body forces me to turn around, and I get distracted enough while flying north that, without realizing it, I reach the field that Bucky took me to a couple weeks back. It looks just about the same as I remember it, even as the early morning fog dissipates. I take a couple of laps around the field before I decide to move on.

As I near the treeline, something hurtles towards me, and I just barely manage to dodge it before it hits me. I glance over my shoulder, and assume it was a drone or something when I can’t see what it was. I shrug and fly out over the forest. Something comes at me again, this time hitting the primary feathers of my right wing and coating them in a thick, heavy substance. I lose altitude immediately and try to shake whatever it is off. The substance won’t budge, and my left wing is soon hit with another projectile. I try to turn around and get away, but whatever’s on my wings is too heavy and I can’t seem to keep moving. I cry out as I fall to the treetops below.

I crash through several trees on my way down and my pack gets caught on a branch, nearly strangling me until I manage to unclip the strap. Unclipping my bag sends me tumbling to the forest floor and I fall flat on my face, unable to catch myself in time.

Shadows loom over me and I try to get up, only for someone to place their boot between my shoulders and hold me to the earth. I yell and struggle, to no avail and an unseen figure lifts my chin and presses a rag over my nose and mouth. I tell myself not to breathe, but something in me overrides every rational thought. My limbs grow heavy and dark patches start to creep in at the edge of my vision.

I stop moving, and everything goes dark.

----------

Part 7

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[arrow-guy]

Sister Winter (11/??)

Summary: Keeping secrets only hurts those closest to you, but sometimes the blunt truth hurts more than you’d ever imagine. What happens when you can’t differentiate between the two?

A/N: Hello, we return to this fic with More Characters Than Before and even more drama! Things are really getting started with everyone starting to show up lmao. Hope you guys enjoy this new chapter!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: ClintxReader

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part 10

I startle when I catch Fury out of the corner of my eye. I shiver and shove my hands into my pockets.

I turn my head slightly and nod to him in acknowledgment. “Director.”

“I’m surprised you’re not out there waiting for them,” Fury says. “You look like you’re ready to jump outta your skin.”

“I’ve only spoken with Natasha very briefly and read about the others.” I pause, my brows furrowing. “And I…”

“You’re worried about the whole blue thing.”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Why haven’t you gone back to your little magic trick yet?”

“Clint already knows and accepts me as I am. Now that you know too, there’s no point in using a disguise.”

"Hm." He folds his arms. "You should go out to meet them anyway. We're taking off as soon as the Captain shows up. We don't need to lose any new recruits before we get a chance to debrief them."

“I’ll go now.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he says.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind doin’ your little magic trick when the Captain arrives?” he asks. “It’ll help me win a bet.”

The corner of my mouth quirks up into a small smile. “Is that all I’m useful for, Director?”

He snorts. “No, but it sure as hell is handy.”

I chuckle. “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

"You'll need this," he says. I hold out my hand and he drops an earpiece into it. "We'll keep in contact from up here."

"Of course." I position the earpiece and turn it on.

He jerks his chin at me. “Get going. Agent Romanoff should be preparing to land.”

I nod once. "Yes, sir."

"That's her quin, right there." An agent points to the incoming aircraft. "She should be the first one down the ramp."

I nod and shield my eyes against the sun, watching as the quinjet descends. My hair whips around in the wind kicked up by the jet, and I try to keep it out of my eyes as best I can as I move closer.

The ramp lowers and a woman with a shock of red hair appears and immediately walks towards me. She stops short and tilts her head to the side.

“(Y/N)?”

I nod. “Natasha?”

“Yes,” she says. “You’re more… blue than I expected.”

I laugh. “I don’t have to be blue, but it’s just my natural state.”

“Does Clint know?”

“Yes. He actually prefers me like this, believe it or not.”

The corner of her mouth twitches up in an almost smile. “I do, actually. He’s got a knack for pushing people to be themselves.”

“Yes,” I say. “He certainly does.”

She looks me over, silently regarding me. I try not to shrink under her gaze, but she's far more intense than anything Clint told me could've prepared me for.

"You look like you could use a hug," she finally says.

"What?"

"You look like hell. Like you need some comfort." She glances around and takes a step closer. "I'm going to assume that Clint was the only person you're close enough to to go to for emotional or physical comfort."

"I don't know if I like how exposed I feel right now," I joke.

She shakes her head. "I'm not trying to expose you. I just want to suss out what's going through your head. Understand you better."

Slightly confused, I say, “I appreciate that.”

My earpiece crackles to life and I press my finger to my ear. “Coulson’s headed in. Wheels down in five.”

“What is it?”

“We’ve got about five minutes before Coulson lands.” I glance behind her. “I suppose meeting the Doctor will have to wait.”

“He’s just a bit timid.”

“I understand. I hope he’ll be fine on the helicarrier.” I fold my arms. “I mean, Fury’s taken precautions, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll be any more comfortable.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she says. She places her hand on my arm. “How are you holding up?”

“You asked me that yesterday.”

“And answers change.” Her eyes bore into mine. “How are you actually?”

I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m worried. I don’t know what Loki’s doing. I don’t know what he’s doing with Clint and Selvig. I don’t know if Clint’s even still in there.”

“You care about him a lot.”

“Yes. I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t get him back.” I place my hand on her shoulder. “How are you, though, Natasha?”

She sighs. “I’ll be better once we fix this. That’s all I’ll say.”

I nod and manage a small smile. “Fair enough.” I press my lips together. “Do you want a hug?”

She glances around before she leans in, tightly gripping my arm, and whispers, “If anyone sees or hears about this, I will kill you.”

I bite back my laughter. “That’d be harder than you’d expect, but okay.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch her mouth turning up into a small as she wraps her arms around my shoulders. I circle my arms around her middle and hug her just as tightly as he hugs me. She sighs against my shoulder and pushes me away abruptly.

“That’s enough,” she says.

Wind whips up around us and I glance up to find the quinjet we were waiting on preparing to land. When I look back at Natasha, she won’t meet my eyes. “Thank you.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t mention it.”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

I roll my neck and set my enchantments in place. The cerulean takes on a more natural, human color. I sigh and smooth my hands over my hair.

“Showtime,” I mutter. I catch Natasha staring. “What? Are my eyes still red?”

“No, Definitely not.” She scowls. She gestures to my body and asks, “How?”

“Magic.”

She shakes her head and walks towards the quinjet. “I don’t even want to know.”

I shrug and follow after her. “She’ll get curious eventually.”

“We’ll introduce the Captain to Doctor Banner once we talk to Coulson. Fury contacted me earlier, said they needed him inside asap.”

“Alright.”

As we approach, the ramp lowers revealing Agent Coulson with a tall, blond man at his side. He nods to both of us and introduces Natasha before he looks at me, confused.

“I thought you weren’t doing the whole-” he wiggles his fingers at me. “-thing anymore.”

“I thought this would be less jarring for people who I’ve never met before,” I explain. “Would you prefer that I stop?”

“Yes,” Natasha and Phil say in unison.

The Captain looks confused, but his confusion quickly gives way to shock as I allow the enchantments to slip away.

“You’re blue,” Rogers says without thinking.

“I am.”

Natasha cuts in, saying, “Coulson, they need you on the bridge. They’re starting the face trace.”

Phil nods. “I’ll see you there.”

He slips between Natasha and Rogers and quickly makes his way across the landing strip. I watch him go and turn slightly towards Natasha.

“I’ll go with him,” I say softly.

“Why?” she asks.

“I’m not sure I’m the kind of welcoming party Doctor Banner is expecting. It’d be better if he had some warning.”

She nods. “Probably safer that way.”

“As soon as you’ve got Banner, you should get inside. We’re taking off in a couple minutes.”

“Right.”

I look back at the Captain and offer him a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Captain. I’ll see the three of you inside.”

He nods hesitantly and I head back to the bridge. I heave a sigh of relief as soon as I’m back inside. I take my place just behind Fury on the bridge and wait for instruction.

“How’d it go?” Fury asks.

I shake my head. “He was a little shocked.”

“A little?” He raises an eyebrow. “That all?”

“I’ve barely met the man. I don’t know him well enough to predict what he’s thinking about.”

He tuts and takes his head. “I’m sure everything went fine.”

I roll my eyes. Coulson hands me a tablet and points out specific camera feeds. I take the tablet and examine them more closely.

“You’ve spotted Loki?” I ask.

“We think so, but his appearance changes each time. I figure you’d be the best person to spot anything recognizable.”

I nod. “I’ll do my best.” I tuck the tablet against my chest. “Any word on Clint?”

“Nothing new. Agent Romanoff will be working with the surveillance team to track him down.” He pats my shoulder. “We’ll get him back, don’t worry.”

“I know we will. I’m more worried about what he’s being forced to do. Loki will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. He doesn’t care who he endangers along the way.”

“I can only hope we’ll be able to stop him before he gets too far.”

“I know.” I glance up momentarily and catch Captain Rogers handing Fury a ten-dollar bill. I laugh. “Guess Fury’s little prank worked.”

“Prank?”

”He said something about making a bet. Asked me to skew the odds in his favor.”

Coulson smiles. “Sounds like something he’d do.”

Fury speaks with Doctor Banner. Banner asks something about the search for the tesseract and Fury gestures for a status update.

“We’re sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet,” Coulson says. “Cell phones, laptops… if it’s connected to a satellite, it’s eyes and ears for us.”

“Still not gonna find him in time,” Natasha says.

Banner takes in everything they say. “You have to narrow your field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?”

“How many are there?” Fury asks.

“Call every lab you know. Tell ‘em to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays.” Banner takes his jacket off and rolls his sleeves up. “I’ll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places.” He glances around. “Do you have somewhere for me to work?”

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury gestures to Doctor banner. “Could you show Doctor Banner to his laboratory, please?”

Natasha rises from the monitor she’s squatting in front of and walks up to Banner. “You’re gonna love it, Doc,” she says. “We got all the toys.”

It takes several hours to even get an approximate match for Loki on any camera. At the smallest glimpse of his hair, I clasp Agent Sitwell’s shoulder.

“There,” I point at the monitor. “That one.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The monitor beside him chimes, notifying us of a match. It’s the same feed as I had indicated a moment ago.

“Sixty-seven percent,” I shake my head. “It’s absolutely him.”

Sitwell turns and lets Phil know. “We got a hit.”

“Wait,” I smack his arm. “Check again.”

“You’re right.” He shakes his head. “Crossmatch, seventy-nine percent. It has to be him.”

Coulson appears beside me. “Location?”

“Stuttgart, Germany. Twenty-eight Konigstrasse.” He pulls up several images. “He’s not exactly hiding.”

“He wants us to find him,” I say.

“Captain,” Fury says. “You’re up.”

Captain Rogers nods and follows Coulson down the hall. I move across the floor to speak with him.

“I want to go with them,” I say.

“No.”

“You seriously won’t allow me to bring my own brother in?”

“Yes. Seriously. You don’t need to be in the line of fire.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’ll stay in the jet with Natasha. I won’t be in the line of fire.”

“You’ll stay in the jet?”

“Yes.”

He scowls. “Fine. You can go with them.”

“Thank you-”

“But you stay away from that spear,” he says. “I don’t need to lose another agent to your psychopath twin.”

“He won’t get to me.” I pause. “Did you just call me an agent?”

“I might’ve.”

“Alright.”

“You better go find Agent Romanoff. Don’t want her to leave without you.”

I nod leave the bridge. I run into Natasha along the way and follow her out to the jet. Captain Rogers is hot on our heels, dressed in a vibrant blue, red, and white suit. Coulson said something about having a hand in the Captain’s new uniform and I hadn’t put much thought into it until now. The colors are a bit nauseating.

Captain Rogers settles into the seat across from me in the jet and we lapse into an uncomfortable silence as Natasha and another agent take the controls.

“So,” Rogers says. “What’s your connection to all of this?”

“Loki is my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes. My twin, actually.”

“But he’s...”

“Not blue?” He nods. “Very astute. I’m sure you’ll notice that we’re not identical twins either.”

“That’s true.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s controlling the people I care about. I want to stop him and take him home to face judgment.”

“Where is home?”

“Asgard.” His eyes widen. “I’m sure it’s clear that I’m not exactly from Earth, Captain.”

“Call me Steve,” he says.

“Alright.” I pause. “I’m (Y/N), by the way. We were never formally introduced.”

He shoots me a small smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

I nod and he doesn’t say anything else. I cross my arms, put my head back, and doze until we reach our destination. I wake when Natasha says we’ve arrived and I move to join her near the cockpit.

“Looks like he’s giving a speech,” she says.

I shake my head. “Of course he is. He really seems to enjoy the sound of his own voice these days.”

“What’s the plan?” Steve asks.

“Don’t let him get to you,” I say. “He’s persuasive and he’ll distract you if he can. If he can distract you, you’re in trouble.”

“Anything else?”

“He’ll fight dirty. Protect your stomach and your legs.”

“How dirty are we talking?”

“He has an affinity for knives.”

“Jeez.”

Natasha lowers the ramp. “Remember to have fun,” she says.

I move up to the cockpit with Natasha as Steve drops down into the middle of the crowd and deflects a blast from Loki. Natasha lowers the quinjets weapons system and points it directly at my brother.

“Loki, drop the weapon and stand down,” she commands.

I shake my head and sit back and watch as a fight between Steve and Loki breaks out. Natasha mutters something about not being able to get a good shot when someone overrides the communications system.

“Agent Romanoff,” they say. “You miss me?”

Music blares through the loudspeaker and she shook her head. A figure in a suit of armor swoops in and easily lays Loki out with one blast.

“So this is Stark?” I ask.

“The one and only,” Natasha mutters.

“Huh,” I watch as Loki surrenders and Stark lowers his heavily armed hands. “Impressive.”

“That’s one way to describe him.”

We land briefly and I help the agent on board restrain Loki and bundle him onto the quinjet. Steve and Stark join us on the jet.

“You’re a traitor,” Loki hisses.

“Shut up.”

“Rather bold, aren’t we, sister?”

“I’m not doing this with you, Loki.” I tighten the straps around his shoulders. “I have no energy to humor you anymore.”

“Oh, (Y/N), you wound me.” He grins manically and I push his face away as I stand and join Stark and Rogers near the cockpit.

“I don’t like it,” Steve says.

“What?” Stark asks. “Rock of Ages giving up so easily?”

“I don’t remember it being that easy,” Steve mutters.

“No,” I interject. “He was going easy on you.”

“And you know this… how?” Stark asks.

“He’s my brother.”

“But you’re blue.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m blue, he’s pale as fresh snow. Am I seriously going to have this conversation with every newcomer?”

Steve shakes his head. “Still, this guy packs a wallop.”

I take a seat across from Loki and tune out their bickering. A crash of thunder startles me out of my thoughts. When a lightning flash lights up the quinjet Loki and I look at each other with wide eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Steve asks. “Scared of a little lightning.”

“It’s not the lightning that scares him,” I say, careful to keep my voice steady.

Loki squints at me. “I’m not overly fond of what follows.”

Something lands on the jet, shaking all of us around. Stark immediately puts on his helmet and lowers the ramp, much to Rogers’ protests. I jump up when Thor lands in the jet. He doesn’t see me. Instead, he knocks Stark back just as he’s about to fire at him and grabs Loki out of his seat by the neck. Before I can say anything, they’re gone. I look around at everyone in the jet and Stark is already on his way out to follow Thor. Steve moves to grab a parachute and I just shake my head.

“I’d sit this one out, Cap,” Natasha calls.

“I don’t see how I can,” he says.

“These guys come from legend. They’re basically gods.”

“She’s right,” I add. “You don’t know their power, and you nearly got your ass handed to you by Loki. I don’t think you can manage both of my brothers at once.”

“Both brothers?” Steve asks.

“Yes, both brothers.”

“Great,” he mutters. “This is just wonderful.”

“If you’re determined to go-” I sigh and grab a parachute. “Then I’m going with you. I’m at least strong enough to hold one or both of them back.”

“Be careful, (Y/N),” Natasha says. “You know how dangerous they are.”

“I will. Tell Fury to hide Jane Foster. If Thor’s here, Loki’s people may try to hurt her to get to him.”

“Will do. You two get down there and stop them.”

I look to Steve and he nods before jumping out of the quinjet. I follow his lead and we freefall for a while before deploying our chutes and gliding down over the treetops. We follow the trail of felled trees and sparks down to find Thor and Stark fighting one another. I yank my chute from my shoulders as soon as my feet hit the ground and move through several broken off trees to get to Thor, but I’m too late.

Steve has already engaged him, telling him to put his hammer down. Thor refuses and takes a swing at Stark, swinging him back through several trees.

I shake my head and step between Thor and Steve. “Stop.”

Thor looks between me and Steve, unsure of what to do. He shifts slightly towards me, and I see Steve move out of the corner of my eye. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I make a cutting motion outwards, and immensely cold energy travels down my arms and through my hands. Both men freeze in place and stare at me, surprise and fear etched into their features. All around me on the ground is a thick layer of sharp, spiked ice. My eyes go wide when I see what I’ve done and I have to school my face into calm indifference.

“I said stop. All of you.” I look very pointedly at Thor. “We’re all on the same side. Fighting isn’t going to change a fucking thing about this situation.”

Thor nods. “I’m sorry, sister.”

I shake my head. “Go get Loki. We’re leaving and both of you are coming with us.”

Thor summons his hammer and takes off to gather up Loki. I carefully pick my way out of my little field of ice and wander off to find Stark. I pull him to his feet and lead him back to Steve while I signal for Natasha to bring the jet around.

“This is just the beginning of things, isn’t it?” Steve asks.

I nod. “I’m afraid it is, Captain. And it’s not going to get any easier from here.”

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this chapter, please reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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This fic: 

@mysticalhermitofdoom​, @imagine-you-are​, @avengerscompound​, @thorne93​, @cryptidwolfe​, @welldonebeca​, @magicstrengthandcourage​. @this-is-mycrisis​, @rhymesmenagerie​

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (3/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Hey, guys, how’s quarantine treating you? Here we are with a new chapter of Broken Flock. I integrated a little more comic stuff and it’s mostly fluff, so please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Warnings: Mild angst

Part 2

“I’m glad you’re back,” Clint says.

“It’s only been a week, Clint. Don’t be so sure having me here is gonna be a blessing.”

He laughs. “I think you underestimate how much we like you, (Y/N).”

I snort. “I think two years has made you forget how much of a pain in the ass I can be.”

He groans and lets his head fall back against the recliner cushion. “Us liking you and you being a pain in the ass can coexist.”

“Aw,” I press my hand to my chest and grin at him when he shoots me a dirty look. “You’re so nice to me.”

“Really pushin’ your luck here.”

I cackle. “I told you!” I point at myself. “Pain in the ass.”

He rolls his eyes, but can't stop himself from smiling. "I've missed this," he says. "Shooting the shit. The teasing. Everything."

“So have I. Kate’s great ‘n all, but she doesn’t handle teasing the way you guys do.”

“With us, teasing is a sport. With Kate, it’s more seeing what you can get away with and hoping for the best.”

I laugh. “Yeah.”

“Y’know, you can come back to the building any time,” Clint says. “When you’re ready, obviously. All your stuff is still at your place.”

“Wait, really?”

His brow furrows. “Of course. Why would I throw out your stuff? It’d be too much work, especially when you’ve been paying rent the entire time you’ve been gone.”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Have a little faith in me, (Y/N).”

“I’m trying, I promise. It’s not your fault I’ve got a shitty brain.”

Clint frowns and pulls me into a tight hug. The urge to run is strong, but the need to be close to him is stronger, so I wrap my arms around him and hug him tighter.

“I forgot how strong you are,” he wheezes.

I laugh and loosen my hold on him. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget to reign in it.”

“So, will you move back?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. I need a little time to be back in New York first. Soon, though. I think I’ll be back in the apartment soon.”

He nods. “Okay. Just keep in touch, okay? Bucky worries. I mean… I do too, obviously, but Bucky paces and it’s really starting to get to me.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Like, he’s gonna wear a hole in his carpet, then mine, he worries so much.”

I laugh. “I get it. I promise I’ll stay in touch.”

His phone chimes and he groans when he checks the message. “I gotta go.”

“Someone in trouble?” I ask.

“Yeah. Me if I don’t get a move-on.”

“Okay.”

He pushes himself up from his chair and I get up and follow him 

Ge pauses just before the door. “Sorry, I really wanna say, but duty calls.”

“Go,” I say. He pouts and I laugh, shoving him towards the door. “Go! You’ve got a job to do. I’ll be fine on my own. I promise.”

He presses a kiss to the top of my head and hurries out of the apartment. I sigh and plop one hand on the top of my head and close the door behind him.

I try to hold out, but it takes me all of three days to get lonely and move back to my apartment.

While I did keep my promise to keep in contact with Clint and Bucky, I didn’t feel like telling them I was moving back yet.

I leave the little condo behind and get to Clint’s apartment building as quickly as my feet will take me.

The building is weirdly quiet, but I push the thought aside, eager to get to my apartment. I fumble with my keys trying to find the right one. I gently push the door open, only for the hinges to squeak the entire time. I cringe at the sound and quickly close the door behind me.

The entryway is dark and the small amount of light filtering through the curtains in the living space paints the room in an ominous light.

When I drop my bag on the couch it sends a massive plume of dust into the air, leaving me coughing and waving whatever I can away from my face. I flick on the lights and find a layer of dust coating every inch of the apartment and my heart sinks. Sure, Clint held the apartment for me, but I completely forgot what happens when you leave a space undisturbed for two years.

I start the cleaning process by stripping my bed and throwing any and all clothing and towels into a hamper to be washed. I pull down the curtains as well and toss them in for good measure. With the curtains gone, the sunlight filters in through the windows and I can more fully see just how much dust is covering my apartment.

I sigh as I realize that the only solution to this whole mess is a lot of vacuuming and potentially new cushion covers.

I decide to tackle the living room first, shuffling through a box of stuff from the last remodel that Clint did to find a dust mask. When that’s in place and I’ve opened the windows, I take a spatula and start batting at the couch and chair cushions, sending dust in every direction. When the majority of the gray has left the cushions I start sweeping as much as I can into a pile. In the end, there are two good-sized piles in each room. I vacuum everything up and move on to using the vacuum hose to suck up anything on the windowsills and counter-tops.

It takes me nearly two hours to get to a point where I can take a break and pull the dust mask from my mouth. I stand at the mouth of the entryway with my hands on my hips, dust mask around my neck, when someone bursts in.

“Who the hell do you think you are, breaking into this building?!”

I whirl around, looking for a weapon, only to realize that it’s one of Clint’s tenants. I’ve never met her before, so she has no idea who I am.

“I live here,” I say dumbly.

“No, you don’t,” she says. “No one’s been in this apartment for over a year.”

“I’ve been gone for two.” I take a step back into the apartment in an attempt to put a little distance between this young woman and myself. “Look, you can call Clint if you don’t believe me. He’ll tell you the same thing.”

She scowls. “Maybe I will. He doesn’t seem to pay much attention to who he lets in this place as is…” She reaches into her pocket for her phone.

“Aimee, what the hell is going on?” someone calls down the hallway.

The young woman, whose name I now assume to be Aimee, pokes her head out into the hall. “I was just gonna call you! Some rando says she lives here.”

“What?” Clint appears in the doorway and freezes. “I thought you said you needed a little time before you came back.”

I shrug. “I got bored. The Wi-Fi here is better than that dump anyway.”

He laughs and slips through the door. Clint wraps his arms around my waist and spins me around. My wings flutter helplessly when he doesn’t put me down afterward.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says.

I brace myself on his shoulders. “It’s lonely in a little one-bedroom condo. The only company I had was the old lady selling tickets downstairs. I needed to at least be around other people.”

“I thought you might,” Clint waggles his eyebrows and I laugh. “I’m glad you decided to move back sooner.”

I smile. “Can you put me down now? I’m starting to lose feeling in my legs.”

Clint smiles and finally lets me down. “What have you been doing in here? It looks like a tornado hit.”

“There was, like, an inch of dust on everything when I came in. I’ve been trying to clean, but I think I’ve mostly been pushing stuff around.”

Aimee clears her throat and Clint and I look back at her.

“So you know her?” she asks.

“Yeah, we go way back. She’s been living here on and off for three or four years now.”

Aimee’s brows pull together. “Way back?”

“Close to ten years, I think?” I offer and Clint nods.

“Definitely a while,” he says.

“Oh,” Aimee shoves her hands in her pockets. “Well, in that case, sorry for busting in on you. Hope you get the place cleaned up.”

She heads back out into the hall with a wave.

“Well that was weird,” I mutter.

Clint snorts. “Why didn’t you say you were coming back?”

“It was gonna be a surprise. But this place is a wreck, so it might be a little while before you and Bucky can spend any time here.”

“You want some help?”

“Are you offering?”

He shrugs and looks around the living room, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Why not? Got nothing better to do.”

I shove him and he catches himself on the kitchen counter, laughing. “You’re such an ass, Barton.”

“But you hang out with me anyway. What does that say about you?”

“That I’ve got really weird taste in friends.”

He laughs and slings an arm around my shoulders. “Where do you want to start?”

“Could you put any dishes that are out on the counter in the dishwasher? And then maybe move on to the bathroom from there. I’m gonna go down to the basement and run a couple loads of laundry. I’ll meet you back here when I’m done.”

“Sounds good.”

“Cool. I think I left the cleaning supplies under the sink.”

“Kitchen or bathroom?”

I pause. “Both? Maybe?”

Clint laughs, loud and free. “I’ll get started then.”

Four hours later, Clint and I collapse on the freshly made bed. No dust poofs out of the mattress and I breathe in the sweet scent of detergent and fabric softener along with the soothing smell of Clint. I shuffle closer to him and he sighs and gently runs one hand over my left wing. The touch is familiar and something I’ve suppressed wanting for two years. I press my forehead to Clint’s shoulder and finally let myself relax.

“I think I need to get new sheets,” I say.

“What’s wrong with these?” Clint asks.

“I need more than one set of sheets, plain and simple.”

“Who the hell needs more than one set of sheets?”

“What do you mean ‘who needs more than one set of sheets’? Everyone should own more than one set of sheets!”

“I don’t own more than one set of sheets.”

“That’s because you’re a walking garbage fire, Clint!” I shake my head. “Do you even change your pillowcase?”

“You’re supposed to?”

“You don’t-”I pull back to stare at him. “How is your skin so clear?!”

“Genetics, baby,” he says, lifting his chin and grinning.

I roll my eyes and settle against him again. Silence settles in the room and I find myself growing drowsy.

“We should tell Bucky,” Clint says.

“Mm, yeah, probably.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t text me.”

I lift one wing so I can look behind me. I move away from Clint when I see Bucky standing in the doorway.

“We were just talking about you,” I say.

“Yeah?” The corner of his mouth quirks up.

“Yeah,” Clint says. “We were just saying that your breath is rank and you never shower.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and sheds his coat and shoes. He shoves Clint and I across the bed so he can snuggle into Clint’s side. He reaches around my back and takes a fistful of my shirt, pulling us all together.

“How did you know where we were?” I ask.

“I went to go check on Clint. Aimee said he was hanging out with some weird chick with wings she’d never seen before.”

“And you figured it was me?”

“Clint doesn’t have a lot of friends-

“Hey!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “With wings.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s true,” Clint admits. “I think I know one other person with actual feathery wings.”

“I’m surprised there aren’t more out there.”

“There might be,” Clint says. “But we haven’t found them yet.”

“Hmm,” I rest my chin on his shoulder. “I wonder what it’d be like for a whole bunch of bird people to be in the same place. D’you think they’d want to form a flock or something?”

Bucky snorts. “Maybe.”

“Would you join them if they did?” Clint asks.

I shrug and the movement makes my feathers rustle. “I don’t know. I kind of like the one I put together myself.”

Bucky smiles and rubs a slow circle on my back with his thumb. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You might be flightless and kind of dumb sometimes, but you’re mine nonetheless.”

“Aw,” Clint digs his fingers into my side, making me squirm. I laugh and try to get away from him, but he’s stronger than he looks. “You know just how to sweet talk a couple of guys.”

I manage to dislodge myself and shuffle back on the bed and out of Clint’s reach. Bucky props himself up on his elbow and Clint grins up at me.

“I only speak the truth,” I say, holding my hands out in front of me in surrender. “But you gotta know I care about you at least a little bit.”

Bucky shrugs. “Maybe, but we’re gonna tease you when we can. Haven’t been able to do it for two years.”

“You’re gonna deal with everything you’ve missed from us while you’re still here,” Clint says. “We don’t know when you’re gonna have another existential crisis and run off again.”

“I…” I sit back on my heels and clasp my hands in my lap. “I’m not leaving again.”

“Can you really be sure?” Bucky asks. “We haven’t even had you back for two weeks yet. It’s too early to say.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m staying. That’s it. No take-backs, no crossed fingers, nothing. I’m here, one hundred percent.” Both men stare up at me and I fidget under their gazes. “I know that I was away for a long time. I know that it wasn’t fair of me to stay away that long without any kind of explanation, especially to you two. I know what I did wrong, but I know that I can’t be away from either of you for that long ever again. I just physically can’t.”

Clint nods. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

I sigh and Clint gently takes hold of my wrist and I shuffle closer. He lets go and places his hand in the small of my back. I bite the inside of my cheek and look at Bucky.

“We just don’t want to lose you again,” he murmurs.

I nod and reach over for Bucky’s hand. He readily takes it and pulls me over Clint so that I lay on top of both of them. He wraps his arm around my back and holds me tighter to their chests and presses his forehead to my shoulder. I sigh and settle against them. I stretch my wings across the width of the bed and blanket both the boys with them. They smile and pull me closer to them and snuggle together. We fall asleep tangled together, like we used to before I left.

------------

Part 4

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this chapter, please reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Tag listers:

@ghostlyhamlet​, @baguettegirl, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @liladeldiamandis, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @ilovebeingjoyful, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @not-that-type-of-person, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @leahhavoc, @future-ll-evans, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @buckybcrnes, @nyxveracity, @idalinette, @tomorraw, @breezy1415, @feelmyroarrrr, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73, @thisismysecrethappyplace, @princess-unicorn124, @hermionie-is-my-queen, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark, @avengerscompound​

This fic:

@nerdy-bookworm-1998, @shirukitsune

[arrow-guy]

Sister Winter (10/??)

Summary: Keeping secrets only hurts those closest to you, but sometimes the blunt truth hurts more than you’d ever imagine. What happens when you can’t differentiate between the two?

A/N: We’ve finally arrived at the events of The Avengers. I’ve changed canon a little for Reasons, but I’m happy with how this came out overall. Now it’s time for some sad times!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: ClintxReader

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part 9

“You must prepare for this invasion, Director,” I say. “There’s no telling the scale of their forces, but I have no doubts that they’re going to come at us with everything they have.”

“And just how do you know this?”

I shake my head. “The energy fluctuations are becoming too unpredictable for there to be any kind of coincidence. If he were further away, the fields would be more stable, just as they were four months ago.”

“Any guess as to when he’ll show up?”

“No, but we are working on an approximation. It’s hard to pinpoint any specific time. I can only say that it’s a matter of weeks now, rather than months.” I take a deep breath before explaining further. “Look, I know you’re not going to like what I say, regardless of how I word it. I have given you the information that I have and I’m simply asking that you trust me.”

He stares at me long enough that I begin to wonder if I said something wrong.

“Alright. We’ll take this into account. Agents Coulson and Hill will be heading this project until the time comes that this thing blows.” He pushes himself up from his chair. “I trust all of you can get along without me here?”

He’s answered by a chorus of “Yes, sir’s”, after which he promptly leaves the room.

Agent Coulson crosses the room to speak with Clint and I. He extends his hand to me and I look at Clint for help. He just gestures for me to take Coulson’s hand, so I do.

“I look forward to working with you,” Coulson says as he shakes my hand.

I’m so surprised that I can’t stop myself from saying, “Really?”

He laughs. “Yes, really. If Clint trusts you, I’ll take the plunge.”

“Oh, well…” I shove my hands into my pockets. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles and nods at Clint. “Agent Barton.”

Clint nods in return. “Coulson.”

I watch him walk away, perplexed.

“Odd.”

“What?” Clint slings his arm around my shoulders. “Coulson?”

“No, just… all of it, really. Fury just accepted all that. He barely asked any questions.”

“He’s a mysterious guy,” Clint shrugs and turns us towards the door. “Take the win, for now, and worry about what’s happening with the cube instead.”

“You’re right. There are more important things.”

“Yeah, more important things like making sure you actually manage to get some sleep tonight.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve been trying. Nothing works.”

“You could always stay in my room. There’s more than enough room for the two of us in my bed.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Clint laughs. “Honey, if I had my way, you would’ve been imposing months ago. I just didn’t want to push you.”

“I thought we had to be quiet about our relationship.”

“If anyone hasn’t noticed that we’re together at this point, they never will,” he says.

I laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”

“So, you’ll stay with me tonight?”

“Unless someone tries to send me back to my room, yes.” He grins and I can’t help smiling back. “Don’t get too excited.”

“I’m gonna get as excited as I want, babe. I get to have a sleepover with my girlfriend.”

I laugh. “You’re so enthusiastic.”

“But so many things are exciting.”

“I will have to trust you on that.”

Clint leads me to a secluded alcove away from most of the foot traffic. Leaning against the wall, he circles his arms around my middle and holds me against him.

“You’re worried,” he says.

“Of course I’m worried.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that there’s a full-scale extraterrestrial invasion headed for your planet, which is hardly even equipped to handle humans to begin with. Not to mention the fact that my father has refused to send any sort of aid.”

“You asked?”

“Of course I asked. Seeing Loki as crazed as he is made me realize that I’m not enough.” I put my head in my hands. “We need all the help we can get, but… I don’t know why I even bother.”

“Because you care, and you care deeply. The fact that you even asked is more than we could’ve done.”

I sigh and fold my arms. “I’m frustrated.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.”

I nod. “Alright.”

“Come on,” he kisses me briefly and takes my hand. “Let’s get something to eat. We’ll work out a rough plan to run by Maria tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.”

We barely have three weeks to prepare before any kind of extreme anomalies presented themselves.

“Coulson, it’s happening.”

“Now?“ he asks.

“No, next week. Yes, right now,” I hand him the tablet with the Tesseract’s energy readings. “We need to call Fury.”

He scans the readings before handing the tablet back. “I’ll do that right now. Does Maria know?”

I nod. “I let her know earlier so that she could start organizing the evacuation.”

“I’ll help her with that as soon as I get ahold of the Director.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s Clint doing?”

“Keeping an eye on the situation,” I gesture to the catwalk. “He’ll be able to see if anyone’s getting too close to the tesseract before any of us. He’ll let us know if something goes wrong.”

“Alright. I’ll let you know as soon as Fury’s on his way.”

“Thank you,” I reach out and touch his arm. “Really, for everything. You’ve been a massive help.”

“No need to thank me, (Y/N),” he says, sly smile tugging at his lips. “These are interesting times. I’d hate to miss anything.”

I smile and shake my head. “If anyone could manage to put a positive spin on this, it would be you.”

“I do my best,” he says. “I’ll go make that call. You make sure nothing blows up till Fury gets here.”

“I won’t make any promises about that.”

He nods and leaves to make arrangements. I check in with Maria to see where the evacuation plan is at.

“We just need to pack up and leave at this point,” she says. “You’re sure shit’s about to go down?”

“I’m certain. I worry that if we don’t evacuate, we’ll lose more people than necessary.”

“What do you count as necessary?” she asks, one eyebrow raised.

“If it comes down to it, me.”

“You’d be willing to sacrifice yourself?”

“It sounds as if you have a problem with that.”

“I have a problem with anyone sacrificing themselves, but I’m pretty sure Barton would lose his fucking mind if you died.”

“Then we’ll do our best to avoid that.” She doesn’t seem convinced, but there’s no time to worry about it. “Coulson said he’d help you with the evacuation as soon as he has confirmation that Fury is on his way.”

“That’s great. I’ll get started on what I can. Where will you be if we need you?”

“I’ll be on the floor with Selvig. Clint is up in his usual perch. If you need anything, just let us know.”

“Guess I’ll see you when something goes wrong, then.”

I nod and pat her shoulder before heading back to speak with Selvig. I pull one of the lab techs away from the Tesseract before he can get too close along the way.

“All of you, stay away from that,” I command. “We don’t know what could happen if you touch it. I doubt it’ll be a cute little zap.”

Everyone nods and shrinks back to their work stations.

“That was quite the talking to, (Y/N),” Selvig says. “Somehow they never listen when I say the same thing.”

“It has everything to do with what I am, Doctor. I don’t think they like getting bad news from an alien.”

He laughs. “Perhaps. But you can’t really blame them for wanting to get a closer look. We’re watching history happen right in front of us.”

“Many have been lost to history. You all would be wise to remember that.”

“I understand why you’d be wary.”

“But you don’t take my concerns seriously.” I shake my head. “It’s a wonder humans have survived this long.”

“Ah, we’re a resilient species. You’d be surprised what we can survive.”

“I don’t think I want to be.” I fold my arms. “We’re waiting on Fury, now. When he arrives, we can begin to evacuate.”

“Shame. I really hoped that we could learn more before this time came.”

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m sure you’ll have ample opportunity to study oddities in the future.”

“I’d consider that a blessing,” he says.

I snorted and left him to his work.

An hour and a half later we begin evacuating the staff and moving important tech and other precious possessions offsite.

An hour after that Fury arrives.

“Talk to me, Doctor,” Fury says.

Selvig meets him halfway, saying, “The Tesseract is misbehaving.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“It’s not funny at all. The Tesseract is not only active, she’s… behaving.”

“How soon can we pull the plug?”

“She’s an energy source. We turn off the power, she turns it. If she reaches peak levels-”

“You prepared for this, harnessing energy from space.”

“But we don’t have the harness. My calculations are far from complete. And she’s throwing off interference, radiation. Nothing harmful, low levels of gamma radiation.”

“That can be harmful,” Fury mutters. “Where’s agent Barton?”

“The Hawk?” Selvig scoffs.

“He’s up on the catwalk, Director,” I say. “Keeping an eye on everything.”

“Get him down here.”

I nod and turn to Clint. I sign for him to come down and he immediately begins his descent.

“You were supposed to be keeping an eye on things,” Fury says.

“I see better from a distance, sir,” Clint offers a nod. “(Y/N)’s been keeping an eye on things closer to the ground.”

“Have either of you seen anything that might set this thing off?”

A technician alerts us to another energy spike and my stomach clenches. It’s getting close.

“Nobody’s come or gone,” Clint says. “And Selvig’s clean. No contacts, no IM’s. If there was any tampering, sir, it wasn’t on this end.”

“You’re still going with your space travel theory?” Fury asks.

“Yeah, the Cube would act as a doorway to the other end of space.” Clint shrugs. “Doors open from both sides.”

The building shakes and I grab Clint’s arm.

“It’s happening.” I look back to everyone at the workstations. “Everybody, out! Get out now.”

The Tesseract sparks and I pull Clint and Director Fury away from the machinery. Something in the Tesseract activates and a beam of light shoots out towards the platform near the wall. Everyone watches in morbid fascination as a portal opens before our eyes. A deep feeling of dread settles in my gut. As soon as it appears, it disperses into the room, leaving behind a figure crouched on the platform.

Several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents creep towards the figure. They slowly lift their head to reveal a wicked grin to go with a shock of wild, raven hair.

“Loki.” I take a step forward, but Fury blocks my path with his arm.

“Sir,” he says. “Please put down the spear.”

Loki looks at the object in his hand as if just now noticing he had it. He tilts his head to the side and lifts the spear, pointing it directly at Fury, Clint, and I. I manage to shove Clint and Fury away, but wind up taking the brunt of the blast. In the time it takes me to get to my feet again, he’s taken down five men and nearly killed the technician who was caught in the crossfire.

Before I can react, Loki rushes over to Clint, easily slapping his gun away. The glint of cold recognition in Loki’s eyes freezes the blood in my veins. Clint grunts as he struggles against my brother’s hold.

“You have heart,” Loki says. Loki lifts the spear to Clint’s chest.

“Stop!” I yell.

Loki jerkily turns his head to look at me, His eye twitches. “You.”

“Me.”

“You dare interfere?”

“Yes, I dare. You’re making a mistake here, Loki.”

“I assure you, I am not,” he says. He holds out his free hand to me. “Join me, sister. We can do this together.”

“I won’t,” I shake my head. “Just let him go. Please.”

“I don’t think I will.”

He presses the point of the spear to Clint’s chest and his demeanor immediately changes. His posture relaxes and he puts away his gun. Something about his eyes changes. I’m too distracted to notice Loki doing the same to another agent. His attention is drawn back towards Fury at the sound of a faint click.

“Please don’t,” he says. “I still need that.”

My eyes flit from the case in Fury’s hand to where the Tesseract is supposed to be. I only find an empty space.

“This doesn’t have to get any messier,” Fury just barely turns back.

“Of course it does. I’ve come too far for anything else.” That seems to get Fury’s full attention. “I am Loki, of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

“Loki,” Selvig stumbles to his feet.

“No,” I try to gesture for him to stay back. No one pays attention to me.

“We have no quarrel with your people,” Fury says, managing to keep his voice even and steady.

“An ant has no quarrel with a boot.”

“You planning to step on us?”

“I come with glad tidings,” Loki looks pointedly at everyone in the room. “Of a world made free.”

“Free from what?” I ask.

“Freedom,” Loki says as if it’s the most obvious answer. “Freedom is life’s great lie. Once you accept that, in your heart-” he presses the spear to Selvig’s chest. The Doctor gasps at the reaction. “You will know peace.”

“Yeah, you say “peace,” I kinda think you mean the other thing.”

Clint and I both notice the anomaly swirling in the ceiling of the room. Clint approaches Loki while I creep closer to the Director.

“Sir, Director Fury is stalling.” Clint steps up beside Loki and looks back at Fury and I. “This place is about to blow, and drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us.”

“Like the pharaohs of old.”

“He’s right,” Selvig says. “The portal’s collapsing in on itself. We have, maybe, two minutes before this goes critical.”

“Well then.”

Loki looks to Clint and nods and draws his gun. I just barely manage to jump in front of the director before Clint’s shot hits him. The force of the bullet knocks me back into Fury and we both fall to the floor in a heap. Neither of us can recover in time to stop Loki and his company from leaving with the Tesseract.

I roll off of the director and stumble to my feet only to brace myself against the wall. My legs give out and I slide to the floor, clawing at my jacket in search of the bullet. I barely register Fury warning Maria about Clint as I pull the bullet from my chest. I unzip my jacket and pull my t-shirt aside to inspect the potential wound. The skin just barely split, but I’ll have an awful bruise in the morning.

Fury hauls me to my feet and drags me from the room.

“They’ve got the Tesseract,” he says to Maria. “Shut them down!”

I follow Fury through the halls and out to the helicopter he arrived in. As soon as we lift off, we’re in pursuit of Loki’s commandeered vehicle. Fury shoots at them, only for Loki to shoot us out of the sky. Fury and I manage to jump from the aircraft before it crashes with us in it. Fury recovers faster than I do and he fires off several more rounds at the car. They manage to get away unscathed. I watch them drive off before falling back onto the dirt and trying to catch my breath.

I can faintly hear Coulson trying to contact Fury. He picks up and fills Coulson in. Fury asks for a report from Maria, who seems to still be stuck at the facility. She’s tasked with finding anyone she can that’s still alive in the tunnels.

“Coulson,” Fury says. “Get back to base. This is a Level Seven. As of right now, we are at war.”

“What do we do?” Coulson asks.

“We’re pulling every resource we have,” Fury’s jaw clenches. “That includes the Avengers initiative.”

“Sir, are you sure about that?”

“We have no other choice.”

“Yes, sir.”

The line cuts out and Fury appears in my line of sight. He offers me a hand up and I take it. I wobble as I get to my feet, but manage to steady myself.

“So,” he says. “You’re blue.”

“What?” He gestures at me and I look down at my hands. The enchantments must have faltered when I was shot. “Fuck.”

“Why keep this a secret?”

“I… you’re not upset?”

“No, I’m not upset. You’re not exactly the first alien I’ve met. I just need to know going forward.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You prioritized the mission over yourself and your boyfriend,” he explains. “You took a bullet for me-”

“I’m a little more bulletproof than you are,” I mutter. He scowls and I shrink away. “Sorry.”

“As I was saying, that earns you a little respect, if not a little trust on my end.”

“I-thank you, Director.”

“Explain yourself, thank me after.”

“Right, uhm… yes, I am blue. I hid it because I didn’t expect anyone to react well to someone who didn’t look human randomly showing up and warning them of a potential war. Before that, I hid it because those from my homeworld aren’t welcome on Asgard.”

“I was under the impression that you were Asgardian.”

“No, my brother and I hail from Jotunheim. We are Frost Giants by birth. Our adoptive father imbued Loki with enough power to disguise him as an Asgardian. I wasn’t so lucky.”

“So you stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Yes.”

“Fair play. Anything else you can do?”

I shrug. “I can freeze things, though it’s not particularly impressive. I’ve only managed to burn my brother.”

“Which brother?”

“The one you actually like.”

“The blond one?”

“Yes.”

“He planning on making an appearance?” he asks.

“I’m not sure. I’ve asked for help from Asgard, but I haven’t gotten an answer.”

He begins walking back towards the facility. “I guess we’ll have to work with what we got right now.”

“I just hope that’s enough.”

I wrap my arms around myself and follow behind Fury.

Just before we meet up with Coulson he turns back and says, “We’ll get him back.”

I just nod.

I’m with Coulson when he calls Natasha. She tries to get him off the phone but seems to listen when he mentions Clint.

“He’s been compromised,” Coulson says.

He bobs his head from side to side and shoots me a wink while he waits for Natasha to get back on the line.

“We don’t know where he is, but I’ll brief you on everything when you get back.” Coulson takes a file that’s handed to him. “First, we need you to talk to the big guy.”

I can hear her scoff.

“Oh, I’ve got Stark,” he says. “You get the big guy.”

Her answer is positive, or something close to it because he goes to end the call. I quickly jump up from my seat and hold my hand out to stop him.

“Wait, please.”

“Stay on the line, Natasha.” He places his hand over the receiver. “What is it?”

“Could I talk to her?”

“You know her?”

I nod. “Clint introduced us.”

He nods and brings the phone back to his ear. “You have a minute to talk to (Y/N)?”

I take the phone when he holds it out to me and follow him down the hall. “Natasha?”

“(Y/N),” she says. “How are you holding up?”

‘Well, Clint shot me, so I’ll say not well.“

“He shot you? That doesn’t sound right.”

“He was aiming for Fury. I jumped in and took the bullet.”

“You’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Bruised, but fine. I don’t think he was aiming to kill. But something Loki did to him… I think it’s mental. Maybe he’s controlling him.”

“You think Clint’s okay?”

“Loki wouldn’t have taken him if he weren’t useful to him past being a bargaining chip. He has to be alive.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“I’m worried,” I admit.

“We’ll get him back, (Y/N). Don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

“I have to go. I’ll talk to you when we reach the Helicarrier.”

“Alright, good luck.” The line goes dead and I hand the phone back to Phil. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He tucks the phone into his breast pocket. “I’m headed out. You wanna come with? Dropping in on Stark is usually pretty entertaining.”

I shake my head. “I can’t, Fury handed off everyone’s profiles to me earlier. I want to know everything I can before they show up.”

“I understand. Just remember that everyone’s different in person than they are on paper.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

------------

Part 11

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this chapter, please reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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Take Cover (11/??)

Summary: The world’s gone to shit and the Avengers have been missing for eight years. What difference can one person ever hope to make?

A/N: Hi, it’s been Too Long since I posted a new chapter of this story, but there’s no time like the present to get back to it. As a warning, this chapter is Super Emotional, so please go into it with caution. I made myself cry with this one, it’s that heavy. Anyway, please enjoy!

Page Dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Fire, severe exhaustion, Abuse, Murder

Part 10

“How did you figure out your powers?”

“Hydra tortured my brother and I until we were able to control them well enough.”

“I mean when you weren’t being used as a weapon.”

She frowns. “When I had the time, I would meditate. Retreat within my mind, and try to work towards the source of my powers. Then I was better able to control myself and my power. It is still a work in progress, but progress is made every single day.”

“Do you think it could work for me?” I ask. “My powers aren’t quite on the same level as yours, but they could come from the same place.”

Wanda shrugs. “It is worth a try, right?”

I nod and sigh. I press my palms together and rest my hands in my lap. Closing my eyes, I focus on trying to locate the source of my powers within me. Wanda tells me that she was able to gain better control of her powers by going back to the source. She explains that her source was a bright, angry, red ball of emotion at the core of her being, which she finds is anchored in her mind. I can’t even begin to guess at what mine will be, if I can even manage to find it.

No matter how hard I try, how tightly I squeeze my eyes shut, I can’t seem to find anything. Frustration flares in me and I clench my hands.

"I can't feel anything," I mutter. "It's just blank. Like I'm empty."

Wanda frowns. “There has to be something in there, (Y/N). Maybe you just need a little extra help to find it.”

“Are you suggesting-”

“That I poke around inside of your head?” she asks. I nod. “That is exactly what I’m suggesting.”

I hesitate. “I don’t know…”

She tilts her head to the side. “Why? Are you worried about what I might find?”

“No, it’s just… does it hurt?” I ask. “What if I lose control of my powers and hurt you?”

“That won’t happen,” she says. “And I promise that I will be gentle.”

I press my lips together. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Give me your hands.”

I reach out and we link hands. Her eyes glow red and her power gathers in her hands before traveling up my arms. Every point that a tendril touches tingles and goes numb. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on trying to locate my power. Even with a little bit of help from Wanda, I can feel something within me that I couldn’t feel before, but I can’t pull it forward.

“You need to relax, (Y/N),” Wanda says. “Getting frustrated will not help.”

I nod and take several slow, deep breaths. I try to release the tension from my shoulders and sit up a little straighter, but it still feels like there’s something holding me back.

“I can feel it, but I can’t reach it.”

“This will take time. You won’t get to it after only trying for five minutes.” Her grip on my hands tightens and I feel a surge of energy rush into my chest. “Allow me to help you look.”

The energy spreads from my chest to the rest of my body, but it’s most concentrated behind my eyes. The pressure inside my head builds until everything just falls away, and I’m free-falling through blank space. I hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs and I just lay there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. When I can finally manage it, I sit up. The area around me is bathed in pale, watery light.

I can vaguely hear Wanda’s voice in the distance. She’s trying to get my attention, but there’s too much going through my head for anything she says to stick. I stumble around in the hazy darkness until a light cuts through in the distance. I freeze in my tracks and watch as it advances on me. It gets closer and closer and I try to turn to run, but my feet are stuck in place. I can’t move.

I close my eyes and bring my arms up to shield myself as the light crashes over me. Wanda’s voice drains away completely.

When the light dissipates, it’s replaced by the warm, red light of a raging fire. I shield my face against the glow, only to realize what I’m looking at. It’s the Church. The farm I left behind all those months ago, up in flames. Something inside me forces me forward to find water, Tells me to put out the fire. Fix this. Put everything back the way things used to be. Control the outcome.

I race around, trying to find any source of water possible, but every single spigot that I know was at the farm is gone. It’s not until I find a single bucket near the chicken pens that I see any kind of source.

When I reach out to turn the crank, I jerk my hands back. Looking at my palms, I find massive blisters forming all over my hands. I clench my hands into fists and reach out again. I fill the bucket with water and throw the contents at the fire. I fill it again and again, but nothing I do makes any kind of dent in the wall of flames separating me from the rest of the facility. I keep working and push myself to the point of exhaustion.

I pause to take a break, only for the fire to swallow me up. The heat of the flames slams into me with enough force to knock me to the ground. I gasp for air and only manage to pull smoke into my lungs. With each breath, my vision grows darker and darker until I finally lose consciousness.

When I come to, I’m sat on the stool in front of Tony’s set-up in the lab. The same place where I first saw myself on the Most Wanted list. The place where I learned that Grant Ward had completely, and thoroughly betrayed me and everyone else who was supposed to trust him. That he had helped the government, Hydra, capture and torture Inhumans, my own kind, for no reason other than a sadistic fascination with taking something apart with absolutely no intention to put it back together. My blood boils just thinking about it.

I try to get up from the stool, but I’m held there by an invisible force. The more I struggle against it, the tighter the hold becomes until I’m gasping for air. Just when I think the restraints might crack a rib, the room goes dark. The restraints loosen slightly. Screens flicker to life from every possible angle, bathing the room in an eerie light. The room seems to tilt as a video begins to play.

A figure is curled into a ball in the corner to my left. It takes me a moment to recognize them as Daisy. The door opens and I flinch away when Ward walks in front of me. The audio from the video is garbled and fuzzy, like the sound is coming from far away as Ward addressed Daisy. She doesn’t move except to breathe and Ward nudges her with his boot. When she doesn’t respond he kicks her harder. I try to call out to her, to yell, scream, whatever I can to just get her attention, but no sound comes out.

Only when he does it a fourth time do her whimpers reach my ears. I yell for her again. Still, no sound.

Ward turns to face me completely and walks towards the screen facing me. He has a smile plastered on that is much too wide for his features and it makes my stomach churn.

“Ah, (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). How kind of you to join us again.” He grabs the back of Daisy’s shirt and drags her into the middle of the room. “All of this,” he gestures to Daisy, then the room in general. “All of this could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t been such a selfish little kid. Handed over the power to me instead. You never knew what you were doing. I was the only one who could’ve handled the pressure.”

Daisy gurgles out something incoherent and Ward kicks her again, several times over. “Shut up,” he hisses. “You’re the reason everyone left. No one trusted you. Not even Coulson’s favorites. Now look at them. Daisy’s the only one left.”

Bile rises at the back of my throat, and I gag. I try to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. I can’t force them past my lips.

“May was easy, Yo-yo didn’t stand a chance against the scientists, and Mack?” Ward whistles and shakes his head. “Not nearly as tough as he wanted everyone to think he was, was he, Skye?” He laughs when she doesn’t answer. “Fitz and Simmons, now they were fun. Watching one beg for the other’s life. Wow. That truly was something special.”

I strain against the restraints as tears roll down my cheeks. I still can’t force any sound past my lips, but something shifts in the bindings around my body. They loosen and give with each new movement, and they soon snap and disappear altogether. I lunge forward to stop Ward, only for the room to go dark again. I fall to my knees and bury my head in my hands.

“Don’t cry.”

I startle at the familiar voice and, trembling, lift my eyes to see them.

Coulson lays in a hospital bed, gaunt and sickly. This would be about the time he died, if not the exact day.

I shuffle over to his bedside and haul myself up into the chair there. The plastic is hard and digs into my back. I feel very small all of a sudden. I take several shaky breaths and reach out to take his hand. It’s cold and insubstantial, like he’s here, but just barely. He could disappear at any moment.

“I don’t know how much time I’ve got with you,” he says. “But I don’t want to make you cry, (Y/N). There’s been enough of that already.”

I nod and rub my tears away with the heel of my hand. I still can’t quite form words, but they’re there on the tip of my tongue. I just need a little extra time.

Coulson squeezes my hand. “Good. You always were one of my favorites.”

“You had a lot of favorites, Phil,” I mumble. “You liked people. A lot.”

“I certainly did my best,” he says. “Though I’m sure I could’ve done better.”

I shake my head. “No, you couldn’t. You were the best. You kept everyone together.”

“All that took practice. I had my fair share of failures among the successes.” He sighs. “I will admit, you didn’t  have enough time to get used to the position-”

“You didn’t even tell me I was supposed to be running S.H.I.E.L.D., Phil. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

“Would you have stuck around if I’d told you?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t even get to make that choice, and then I had to watch you die after I had to do the same with my dad.” I hunch in on myself. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“You’ve lost a lot already, but there’s still more to come before you can do anything about it.”

“What?”

“You’re on a journey here, (Y/N).” Images appear on the walls. My father’s death, trashing the Church, Daisy, Fitz, Simmons, May, everything, everyone I’ve lost along the way, laid out for me to see. Every image chips away at whatever’s been holding me together.

“Why?”

“Hell if I know, I’m just in your head. I do know that there’s just one last thing you need to see. You’re not ready. You’ll never be ready. But whatever it is you’re trying to find, this last thing is the key.”

“I don’t want that.”

“No, (Y/N). What you don’t like about this is letting go of your control over the situation. But you know that you’ve never been in control of any of this. You gave that up a long time ago.”

“I know.”

“You have to be strong,” he says. “Not just for everyone else, but for yourself. Especially yourself.”

I nod and wipe my thumb under my eyes. “I understand. Or I think I will, at least.”

“Good.” He squeezes my hand one last time. “This is it, kiddo. I can’t help you after this.”

“I know,” I take a deep, shaking breath. “I know.”

Phil nods once and settles back against his pillows.

Everything begins to blur and fade until Phil is gone and my chair disappears from underneath me. I expect to fall to the floor, but I slowly drift down through hazy white clouds. Only when I begin to relax does my momentum begin to build, and I find myself plummeting through open space. I wrap my arms around myself and curl into as tight a ball as I can manage.

I land with back-breaking force in a grassy field, arms and legs akimbo.

It takes a moment for my head to stop spinning and for me to register the world around me.

I feel the sun on my skin and manage to peel myself up from the ground and sit up. I’m in the middle of a grassy clearing in the middle of the forest. A short way off I can see two people playing in the sun, while another sits against the trunk of a tree, watching them. Curious, I wander closer to investigate. I freeze when I’m close enough to see the person against the tree.

“Dad?” I say.

He doesn’t register anything I said and doesn’t react when I sit beside him. He just stares at the two people in the middle of the clearing. I glance at the pair running around in the sun before looking back at my father. He’s so much younger than I remember him. Happier. The worry lines haven’t set in yet and the tension I remember in his shoulders isn’t there. It brings tears to my eyes realizing that this is probably before we lost my mother.

Dad leans forward slightly and I follow his gaze.

“Careful, Rose,” he calls. “Our little sparkplug is faster than you think! She’ll run you down in no time.”

The woman stops running away from the child, who I assume is me, probably around three years old here, to look back at dad and grin. Little me manages to get the upper hand and crashes into mother’s legs. Both of them tumble to the ground laughing.

“I got you, mommy!” I squeak.

“So you did!” she exclaims. “I think that warrants a prize.”

Little me gasps and sits back in mother’s lap as she sits up. I watch in awe as she plucks several daisies from the grass and closes them between her hands. When she pulls them apart, the daisies have tripled in size and number, weaving themselves into a vibrant green, white, and fuschia flower crown. Little me squeals and claps her hands and leans forward for mother to place the crown on top of her head. Mother laughs and positions the fragile crown daintily on her head.

“Do I look pretty?” little me asks.

Mother smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear, carefully smoothing down any stray strands. “You look beautiful, little one. Every bit the princess you are.”

A rustling in the underbrush at the other side of the clearing draws my attention away from my mother, and dad seems to have noticed it as well. Mother looks up when the first man in black breaks through the treeline.

Hydra.

The first man lifts his gun, followed by four more following through the brush. Dad tenses and slowly creeps forward until he’s just barely covered by the shade.

“Take her,” mother hisses. She slowly moves little me from her lap, trying her best to keep the toddler behind her back.

“But what about you?!” dad hisses back.

“Come with us,” one of the men in black demands. “Come freely and no one will be harmed.”

“Take her, Daniel!” she says. “You take her and-”

“You will come with us!” another man barks. “We will not give you another chance.”

A third man advances with his gun raised. “Don’t move!”

Mother raises her hands, submissive. She glances back at dad and little me, silently begging my father to grab me and get out of there. Little me makes the mistake of reaching out for her, saying, “Mommy?”

One of the men gets spooked and fires off several rounds. Dad lurches forward and snatches up little me. The rest of the men open fire on the clearing and my mother rears back before slamming her hands to the earth. The ground trembles and massive roots burst through the earth. Mother is shot in the leg and she cries out. Dad looks back for a moment. A mistake.

The men turn their fire on us, and little me cries out for our mother, not understanding what’s going on. I feel sick to my stomach, but stand rooted to my spot. I’m helpless to do anything but watch. I can’t even call out a warning.

The roots tangle around the men, binding their arms to their sides, forcing their guns from their hands. She then turns back and slaps her hand on the ground behind her. A wall of grass and roots weaves together behind my father and little me. Three more men emerge from the underbrush before the wall closes completely and my father looks back, just in time to see the three men shoot her. Once in the stomach, once in the heart, and one last time in her neck.

She chokes on her own blood and collapses onto the torn-up earth beneath her, arm outstretched to us as little me screams out for her. Dad takes off running, but the Hydra operatives make no move to follow them. Instead, they stand over my mother’s body, shaking their heads, freeing their companions, and radioing back to whoever they answer to. Eventually, they clear out, leaving my mother to bleed out in the middle of the clearing.

I’m finally able to make myself move and manage to stumble over to my mother. I fall to my knees beside her, hands hovering over her motionless body, unsure of what I’m supposed to do.

“No, no, mom, I-” my voice fails me when I can’t hold back the tears any longer.

I cover my mouth with one hand to muffle the broken noises I make as tears stream down my cheeks. This is why dad never talked about her. Why wanted everything to be normal for me growing up.

“I’m so s-sorry,” I sob. I lean forward and press my forehead to my mothers, hiccupping and sniffling, completely incapable of getting myself under control. “I can barely remember who you were. I never knew you. It’s not fair. None of this is fair.”

I curl in on myself and just allow myself to cry. Let everything out. The grief, the pain, the stress, and anxiety, and pressure that’s been building up over the years. Let go of it, feel it, let it flow through me like it’s supposed to instead of keeping it bottled up.

Everything around me fades away, leaving me to cry alone in the dark.

“(Y/N)?“ I recognize that voice. “(Y/N), you gotta come back to us.”

“I don’t know how,” I answer. My voice is feeble. Broken. They won’t be able to hear me.

“Come on, sweetheart,” they say. “You’re strong. I know you can do this.”

The panicked edge in their voice causes me to worry. I prop myself up on one elbow and look around. Off in the distance, there’s a pinprick of light. It’s far away, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.

“Please,” they beg.

I stand up.

“Come back to us.”

I put one foot in front of the other. The voice urges me forward, gives me the strength to make the journey. The light grows bigger and brighter than before.

“Come back to me, (Y/N). I need you.”

I reach the edge of the light. Again, the voice pleads for me to come back. I take a running leap at the light, shielding my face with my hands. The world rushes in around me as soon as I crash through the barrier.

Someone sits in front of me, quietly begging for me to come back. Their warm hands on either side of my face slowly pull me forward. I can’t quite open my eyes yet. It feels like they’re glued shut. I feel myself begin to shake with the effort it takes to force my eyes open.

The person in front of me slowly comes into focus as I manage to pry one eye open, then the other. I squint against the lights but manage to make out their face.

“Clint?”

“(Y/N), oh, thank God.” He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. “We couldn’t get through to you. I didn’t know what to do.”

“H-how long was I out?”

“Five, maybe six minutes?” He looks to Wanda for confirmation. “Wanda couldn’t pull you out of it.”

I let out a shaky breath. Everything I saw is slowly sinking in and my eyes fill with tears.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” Wanda says.

“What happened?” Clint asks. He looks from me to Wanda for an answer.

“I can’t,” I shake my head. “Not here.”

Clint nods. “Okay.”

He helps me to my feet, almost supporting my full weight with his arm.

“Carry her,” Wanda says. “She is weak.”

Clint looks to me for approval and, only when I nod does he pick me up. He gently kisses my forehead and walks out into the hall. I let my head fall against his chest and hold my hands against my stomach when my fingers start to tingle. I don’t feel like I’m in control anymore.

Clint and I curl up together in bed, but he doesn’t ask me to talk. He keeps me close to his chest, my head tucked under his chin. I allow myself to calm down, for my shoulders to stop shaking, and for the tears and sniffling to subside before even trying to get his attention.

“I think I’m ready,” I say.

“Okay,” he says. He shifts back enough to see my face. “Don’t push yourself.”

I nod. “Wanda was trying to help me figure out how to use my powers. Something went wrong and I got stuck in my head, but it felt like it was longer than five minutes. It felt more like hours, and there was nothing I could do to control what was happening. There were just urges and feelings and no way to escape.”

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Can you tell me about what you saw?”

I recount the scene from the farm, how I had to keep throwing water on the fire until I passed out. About Ward and Daisy. About seeing Coulson again. “It was like he was there. Like the day he died. More lucid that he’d been for months right before he passed. He knew more about what was happening than I did.”

“He always seemed to figure things out before everyone else.”

“He warned me about the last thing I saw. Said I wasn’t ready for it and that I never would be.”

“Was he right?”

“Yes,” I whisper. I press my lips together to keep myself from crying again. I suck in a sharp breath and wipe my cheeks. “He was right. He always was.”

“What happened?”

“I saw how my mom died.”

“I thought she left when you were little.”

“No, she-” I take a shaky breath. “She was an Inhuman. She could control plants. She and I were playing in a clearing in the woods when I was about three. My dad was watching us. We were ambushed by a team of Hydra operatives. I think they were trying to bring her in or something, maybe for their experiments, but they didn’t try very hard. When I reached out for her, one of the operatives got spooked and started shooting. It turned into a full out firefight. My dad managed to get me out of there, but my mother was shot.”

“(Y/N)...”

“And I had to just watch while it happened. There was nothing I could do to stop it.” I cover my face with my hands. “I watched my own mother get murdered when I was a little kid because she was an Inhuman. Because she was different. And now I’m just like her, facing off against the same people, and I can’t even control my powers like she could.”

“You’ll get there. You’re already leaps ahead of where you were last week.”

“Huh?”

“Webster is like four floors up right now,” he says. His brows pull together. “Did you not know that?”

“No, how could I?” I begin to panic, which sends my fingers sparking. I hold my hands tight to my chest and shuffle away from Clint. I shake my head and curl into myself.

“(Y/N)-”

“No, I can’t do this.” I can feel myself start to hyperventilate. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t.”

“Give me your hand.”

“Wh-”

“Gimme your hand, (Y/N),” he says. “I’m serious.”

I tentatively place my still sparking hand in his. The muscles in his forearm tense and I try to pull back. Clint doesn’t let me. Instead, he holds on tighter.

It dawns on me that he trusts me. Trusts that I won’t hurt him. I don’t want to hurt him. I won’t hurt him. I won’t. I won’t. I silently repeat it like a mantra and push down my panic. Clint relaxes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I chant as Clint pulls me against him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry, Clint.”

“Honey, calm down,” he says. “You just gave me a little shock.”

“I could’ve hurt you.”

“You’d never hurt me. You’re too patient for that.” He ducks his head to look me in the eye. “I love you, (Y/N). I know you can get this.”

My heart hammers in my chest. “I love you too.”

Clint cups my face and kisses me. “We’ll do this together. Okay?”

I sniff once and nod. “Okay. Together.”

He smiles, kisses my forehead, and holds me close. I fall asleep against his chest.

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this chapter, please reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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Take Cover (2/??)

Summary: The world’s gone to shit and the Avengers have been missing for eight years. What difference can one person ever hope to make?

A/N: I am legitimately so excited about this fic, and I genuinely hope you guys like it!!

Pairing: TBA

Word Count: 2960

Warnings: None

part 1

I wake to Webster licking my nose. Not ready to be awake yet, I push him away and press myself more firmly against the wall and try to get back to sleep. Instead of leaving me alone, Webster bites me on the nose and my entire body jerks back from his sharp little teeth.

“What the hell do you want?!” I hiss. Webster meows quietly and points his nose towards one of the partially broken windows. It’s pitch dark outside and I suddenly understand.

I yank the sleeping bag off of my legs and stuff it back into it’s drawstring bag before shoving it into my pack. I push myself up off of the floor and sling the pack onto my back and grab the produce. Racing outside, I heave a sigh of relief at the sight of my tarp covered bike. I strap the veggie bag to the bike and, instead of starting it up and riding off, roll it out to the main road, just in case any of the government caravan is still lurking around.

Sticking to the shadows, it takes me nearly twenty minutes to reach the other side of town. I didn’t see any sign of the people that had been following me earlier, but I didn’t want to take any chances just in case they had decided to hide like I did.

We started off on the bike again as soon as we hit the edge of town. I do my best to stick to the road, but occasionally stray into the woods that flank it if I hear anyone driving up behind us. I have to take breaks a couple of times a day so I can walk around and eat while allowing the bike to recharge and sleep. We’re able to travel close to a hundred miles a day, and we manage to make pretty good time once we hit New Jersey. Only when we hit upstate New York do we encounter any serious issues.

When we hit Saratoga Springs, the bike begins to overheat. Not wanting to push it so far that a little overheating becomes a catastrophic failure, I pull off to the side of the road and cut the engine. I take this time to allow Webster to hop out of the duffel he’s been confined to for the past five hours and wander for a while. I watch him out of the corner of my eye while I check over the bike.

There isn’t anything specific that I can see without breaking down the bike that could have caused it to overheat. I don’t want to mess with it too much, so I decide to leave it be so it can cool down.

I lean against a nearby tree and dig around in my pack for something to eat. I find a ziplock bag of freeze dried strawberries, picked clean of their seeds, and a bit of jerky from the night before. I mix the last fourth of a packet of tuna with some water and roll the package down so Webster can get to the mixture. I prop the packet up against my leg and refocus on my own meal. Webster trots over and scarfs down his food like there wasn’t anything to begin with. He cleans his paws and licks around his mouth before placing one small paw on my leg and meowing loudly.

“What?” I ask.

He nudges the soggy tuna packet with his nose and mews again.

I shake my head. “No. No more right now. We still have at least twenty miles to go till we hit Albany.”

He makes a soft frustrated noise and turns his back to me. I snort and reach out to scratch his ears.

“Fine, more water to wash out the pouch, but then you’ll have to wait till we stop again for more solid food.”

His ears perk up and he eagerly turns around and watches as I pour more water into the pouch. He sticks his nose in and starts lapping up the tuna water before I’ve even got the lid back on the water bottle. I laugh softly and pop a strawberry into my mouth.

--

I allow myself to doze off for a bit after I’m finished eating. When I wake up the sun is well on it’s way to setting. Webster is curled up on my lap, asleep. I hate to wake him, but we have to get going if we’re to make it to Albany before morning.

“Alright, bub,” I murmur, scooping him with one arm. He makes a tired mewling noise, but doesn’t try to jump from my arm. “We gotta get going.”

Bundling Webster into the duffel, I pack everything back up and start off on the bike once again.

I manage to get about fifteen miles up the road before the bike dies completely. I try to restart the engine, but nothing happens. The engine doesn’t even turn over.

I growl and shift my weight to my left so I can put one foot on the pavement and get off the bike. After safely moving it to the side of the road, I grab the bag of fruits and veggies, sling it over my shoulder, and then kick the bike over, as if that’s a sound way to get revenge on an inanimate object. I scowl at the overturned bike before turning on my heel and walking away. Webster squirms in his duffel bag and meows loudly. Taking this as a sign that he’s had enough time to nap, I unzip the bag the rest of the way and crouch down so he can hop out.

We walk down the road, side by side. I desperately hope that I’ve made it far enough away from the caravan that was following us to safely make the journey on foot. Even if they’re still tailing us, I haven’t got much other choice so I resolve to just keep off of the road when at all possible.

By the time I see any new road signs, we’ve been walking for nearly three hours. Streetlights are few and far between and, when one does crop up the light is simultaneously comforting and altogether too bright. After walking through the light of the first few we passed under, I tried my best to avoid them at all costs.

I try to stick to the trees, but much of the forest was planted in a grid so the trees are very evenly spaced and provide very little cover. Webster is the only one of us who can hide with any ease, as the shrubs reach my knees and he’s not a very big cat.

At about midnight, I notice a single building in the distance. I take a moment to make sure that the coast is clear before stepping back out onto the road and turn towards the building. I’m about three feet away from the underbrush when I hear a loud meow. Turning around, I find that Webster has stayed behind.

“Come on,” I crouch down and hold out a hand to him. “I think I found a place for us to stay for the night.”

He pads out of the shrubbery and sits on the side of the road, staring at me with bright, green eyes. He meows again and refuses to move. I sigh and sit on the cold asphalt.

“Why are you being so stubborn? Everything was going so well up until now, can’t you tough out one night in the mystery building?” He just stares at me and I hang my head in resignation.

A soft paw rests on my knee before I have a lap filled with cat. Webster pushes his nose against my chin and licks it several times. I laugh and push him away. He meows happily when I scratch his chin and jumps out of my lap, trotting off in the direction of the building in the distance, tail held high. I scramble to my feet and hurry to catch up with him.

As we near the building, it becomes clear that it was once a sort of ma and pop diner, The bright facade has faded to a subdued pastel and the neon signs were smashed beyond recognition long ago.

I pause at the front door and Webster brushes up against my leg, I pull the door open and a bell dings somewhere deeper in the diner. Looking around, I can see a fine layer of dust covering everything, but it’s not thick enough for a place that’s been abandoned as long as this one appears to have been from the outside.

I hear a growl from beside me and look down to see Webster with his hackles raised and the fur along his spine prickling up. He’s staring at something in the doorway of the kitchen, When I glance up to investigate, there’s a shock of red before whatever was there is gone. Immediately freaked out, I take a step backward, only to run into someone who wasn’t behind me when I walked in. I open my mouth to say something, but a rag is pressed over my and nose before any sound can come out. I scrabble uselessly at the hand holding the rag and try my best to hold my breath while doing so. I feel my shoulders sag and my defiant body grows heavy. Soon I can’t even support myself and a strong arm wraps around my waist to hold me up.

As my eyelids grow heavy, I watch as a woman with shockingly red hair scoops up Webster. She holds him tight to her chest in spite of his yowling, wriggling and scratching. I lift one heavy art, desperately wanting to help him, but I can’t reach him.

The rag is pulled away from my mouth, only to be replaced with a dark canvas hood that covers my entire head. Any sound and light is muffled and dulled by the fabric. Whatever on the rag kicks in and everything slips away.

--

The feeling of something tightening around my wrists rouses me from the drug induced sleep, and I find it hard to ignore the subtle pounding in my head that it left behind. My eyelids are still heavy and my eyes are dry, but I do my best to force them open. When I’ve just barely managed to pry my lids apart, someone throws cold water in my face, shocking my drowsy system awake. My eyes fly open and I’m left coughing and spluttering.

“What the hell?!” I hiss, blinking water from my eyes.

“Naptime’s over, sweetheart,” they growl.

“And who put me to sleep in the first place?” I mutter. I shake my head in an attempt to get my wet hair out of my face and further clear my vision.

There are two figures in the room. One with red hair, probably the woman I saw earlier. She hasn’t got Webster with her, and I’m not sure whether I should be worried or relieved. The other is standing a short ways away from me. They’re wearing worn jeans and a flannel shirt. Their hair is a dark blond. I assume they’re the one who drugged me earlier. Now that I’m more awake, I realize that they’ve taken everything I brought with me. Even my ka bar sheath is gone from my thigh and my father’s butterfly knife is missing from my pocket.

“Who are you?” the woman asks. Her voice is harsh and pulls me out of my thoughts.

“I could ask the same of you,” I answer. “I thought the diner was abandoned.”

The blond man leans in close to me, squinting, and I lean away as far as the chair I’m stuck in will allow.

“Who are you?” The man repeats the woman’s question.

“Why would I tell you? You’re the one who drugged me and then strapped me to a chair!” I lift my hands from the arms of the chair as best I possibly can and wave them around.

“You broke in.”

“The door was unlocked!”

The woman disappears through a doorway and soon returns with my backpack in hand.

“What’s in here?” She asks.

“Clothing, food and a sleeping bag. I’m backpacking across the country.”

She drops the pack to the linoleum floor and I sigh loudly. She rummages through it, not caring that she’s throwing my socks and underwear halfway across the room. I watch as she pulls the hard drives from the pack and slaps them on the table before diving back in for more. She retrieves my spare batteries and laptop before she looks up again.

“Why do you have S.H.I.E.L.D. tech?” She demands. The man standing in front of me perks up at the name and turns to investigate.

“What do you mean? It’s my laptop. The only thing that’s on it is my journal and a log of daily reports.”

“Reports of what?”

“Why should I tell you? It’s not like you’ve done anything great for me,” I say, scowling at both of them. “You’ve drugged me, stolen my cat, strapped me to a chair and now you’re rifling through my shit! I’m not exactly feeling forthcoming right this moment and there really isn’t any reason why I should be.”

“Sounds like she’s got a death wish,” the man mutters.

“Yeah, well better you kill me than the government thugs who were chasing me a week and a half ago,” I mumble, my eyes trained on my pack.

“You’re wanted by the government?” the woman asks.

I shrug. “I was the last person left at a functional farming station and I destroyed everything before they could get to it. Tends to piss those guys off.”

She snorts. “Wow, sounds like you’ve been living an exciting life.” She folds her arms across her chest and takes several steps forward so she’s standing in front of me, her toes practically touching mine. “Doesn’t explain why you’ve got old S.H.I.E.L.D. tech in your pack.”

I squint at her and tilt my head to the side. “You look familiar.”

She raises her eyebrows, but her expression remains wholly unimpressed. “Do I really.”

“Yeah, you do, actually.” I lean forward slightly and it hits me. “Phil had a picture of you on his desk!”

“Phil?” She asks.

The man behind her turns around and stalks up beside her. “Phil Coulson?”

“Yes, why?”

“You knew Coulson?”

“Yes, I knew him. He was in charge of the church until about four years ago.”

“Was? What happened to him?” the man asks.

“He had cancer and we couldn’t get the tech necessary to help him, so he was dying. He put me in charge eight months before he passed away.”

The man shakes his head. “That can’t be right, he died years before that.” He glances at the woman at his side. “We saw it happen.”

“Well then he must have been a different Phil Coulson, because he was very much alive when I showed up on the church doorstep eight years ago.”

“What’d he look like?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know, five nine? Kept his hair short because he was worried about his receding hairline. Had a really nice smile. He made really bad jokes all the time. Had a really bad habit of making every single person who set foot through our doors feel like part of his family. People liked him.”

“It had to be him, Nat,” the man whispers.

“She could be lying,” she whispers back.

“Yeah, well I’m not, so you can stop whispering about me like I’m not sitting seven inches away from you.” I scowl at him. “You were in the picture too. Looked like the three of you were close.”

“We were,” he says, his expression neutral. “You said you were in charge?”

“Yes, I was.”

“What happened to you being in charge?”

“It’s hard to be in charge of people who have either left or just straight up died. You can’t really be a leader when there’s no one left to lead.”

“Who did you work with when you were in charge, then?” the woman asks.

“A lot of people, actually. If you’re wanting specifics, there was Melinda May, Grant Ward, Fitz and Simmons and Daisy Johnson. There were a few others, but they defected almost as soon as Phil announced I was in charge.” I sigh and flick a lock of drying hair out of my eyes.

“She was as close to being director as anyone could get, Nat.”

“Can you please tell me what you’re talking about?” I ask. “It seems like you know more about this than I do. I don’t even know your names.”

The two exchange looks that speak volumes that I will likely never understand. He frowns and she tilts her head to the side before his shoulders slump and he nods.

“My name is Natasha Romanoff, and this,” She jerks her thumb to the man beside her. “Is Clint barton.”

I shake my head. “Wait, wait, wait. Romanoff and Barton as in the Black Widow and Hawkeye Romanoff and Barton?”

“Yes,” she answers.

“Well that explains why you drugged me,” I say, eyebrows raised in surprise. Clint pulls the knife from his belt and cuts the zip ties from my wrists. I turn my attention to Natasha. “Where’s Webster?”

“Who?”

“My cat, Webster. Where is he?” I repeat.

“You named your cat Webster?” Clint asks.

I shrug. “He’s a smart cat.”

He shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Come on,” he says, offering me a hand up. “I’ll take you to him.”

------

Part 3

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this installment, please leave a response or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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Secret Santa

Summary: Accidents happen, and Christmas is just an excuse to spoil those you care about, right?

A/N: Alrighty, this is a little too late for Hawkday, but it’s close enough. This is kind of goofy and sweet and I really hope you guys like it!!

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 3114

Warnings: None

“This is absolutely ridiculous,”

“You seriously think I would joke about liking Clint?”

“Yes! That’s why I’m laughing!”

“Tony, please, this is serious.”

Tony sobers and leans forward in his seat. “So you really like that disaster?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I really like that disaster. Nat says he likes me too, but he’s too scared to make a move.”

“Oh, I would be too. You’re absolutely terrifying.” I reach over the cafe table and punch Tony in the arm and he winces. “He’s probably just worried that you don’t feel the same. The man acts like he’s got his life together, but he drinks coffee straight from the pot. He probably doesn’t want to mess up his chance with someone as great as you.”

“Thanks, Tony.” I flag down a roaming waiter. “I’m going to get Clint a coffee and then we have to go. We’ve got an important mission that we have to leave for as soon as we get back.”

Tony nods and, after I’ve placed the order, says to the waiter, “Just put it on my tab. We’ll be back again within a week.”

--

“Is everyone alright?” Steve asks as soon as all of us are back on the quinjet. His question is followed by a chorus of yes's and groans. Steve nods wearily as he sinks into the pilot’s chair and fires up the jet.

Clint plops down next to me and sighs loudly, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“You alright there, Clint?”

He nods a couple of times before letting his head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller though.”

I laugh softly and shake my head. “It certainly was one hell of a challenge. Gonna feel it for the next week or so.”

Clint barks out a laugh. “Well that’s one way to feel about it.”

We fall into an easy silence

“Thanks for the coffee earlier.”

“Don’t mention it. I know how tired you are when you don’t get your caffeine.”

“But you got it from my favorite cafe.” His lips curl up into an easy smile. “I just appreciate the trouble you went through is all.”

“It’s not a problem, Clint,” I smile and pat him on the arm. “I know you’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah...” he trails off, zoning out with a concerned look in his eye.

“You okay there, Clint?”

He shakes his head. “I-yeah,” he says, patting down his pockets. “Shit.”

“What?”

He sighs in defeat. “I lost my knife.”

“But your ka bar is still on your hip.”

“Not that knife,” he explains. “The switchblade my mentor gave me when I was a kid.”

“I thought your mentor was a criminal.”

“Well yeah, but it still has sentimental value.” He scowls, still rifling through his pockets before giving up and sighing loudly. “Could have given it to my older brother, but he gave it to me. He chose me for some reason, and he’s the reason I’m even on this team right now.”

“Really?”

“Well yeah, why else would S.H.I.E.L.D. have come looking for me?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Not many other master marksmen trained by carnies out there.  We're good at sneaking around y’know?”

“I understand,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve got a scar on my knuckles that I got when I was in the fifth grade. I got it when I punched Riley Jones in the teeth after lifting the skirt of a girl two years younger than us.” Clint presses his lips together, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “Yeah, laugh all you want, but that’s the reason I wanted to do anything like this in the first place. I know what it’s like to have an irreplaceable reminder like that.” He raises his eyebrows at me and I scowl back. “Quit looking at me like that, you know what I’m trying to say.”

He smiles. “I do, and I appreciate the sentiment, (Y/N), it’s just fun to see you flustered like that sometimes.”

“You’re an ass, Barton.”

He laughs loudly. “Yeah, but you like my ass.”

--

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious, Tony.”

“We’re not going back just so you can look for his little knife. No way,” I raise my eyebrows at him and push my bottom lip out a little, silently begging him to do what I want him to. “I’m not going to waste resources like that, (Y/N).”

“Fine,” I scowl at him. “But there’s nothing stopping me from sneaking out and borrowing a quinjet.”

Tony sighs loudly and grabs his tablet from off the table. “I’ll send out a drone to look for it, but if it can’t pick up on anything, then you’ll just have to figure out some other way to get your boyfriend’s knife back.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Tony.” I cross my arms and pout.

“Not yet, and that’s not what you should say when someone is trying to help you,” Tony says, his fingers flying across the surface of his tablet.

“You’re right,” I push off the table and press a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek. “Thank you, Tony. I really appreciate it.”

“You should,” Tony smirks and sets the tablet on the table. “Now, we wait.”

--

A loud ping from the surveillance system fills the room, pulling Tony and I out of our respective naps. Tony is the first out of his chair, leaving me to rub my eyes and blink at the harsh lighting.

“What was that?”

“It looks like the drone is done with it’s scan,” Tony answers. He crosses the room and hands me the tablet. “This is all it managed to find.”

I look down at the tablet, and only see the crushed remains of what was once a lovely switchblade. The black handle is shattered, and the blade has been broken into three separate pieces. “Well shit.”

“Yeah,” He takes the tablet back and flicks through several different images taken of the mission site.

“What am I gonna do now?” I scrub my hands over my face then fold my arms across my chest. “You’re good at making up convoluted plans as an excuse to give someone a gift. What do you suggest?”

Tony runs a hand over his mouth and turns to look at me. He smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Well, it is almost Christmas.”

--

“Alright, everyone,” Tony addresses the room, rubbing his hands together. “Time for a little announcement.”

I plop down on the couch next to Steve as Tony somehow produces a large ceramic bowl.

“Hey, Tony,” I say, shooting him a cheeky grin, knowing full well what he’s about to say. “Whatcha got there?”

“I’m glad you asked, (Y/N), because here in my hands I hold the names for the first annual Avengers secret Santa.” He waggles his eyebrows at me.

The rest of the team erupts into groans and I whistle loudly to show my support.

“Really, Tony?” Steve asks, his voice tinged with a whine. “When do we have time to even think about buying gifts for each other, let alone secret Santa gifts?”

“More like secret Satan,” Clint mumbles. I reach over and punch him, earning a laugh in return.

“You have time as of two days ago when I decided this was happening,” Everyone groans a second time. “I’ve talked with S.H.I.E.L.D. and they’re going to be helping us out a little more than they usually do for the next couple of weeks until the annual Stark holiday party. We’ll exchange gifts then.”

“Enough with the build up, pretty boy,” I call. “Let’s choose names!”

Tony snorts and shakes his head, gesturing for me to get up. He shuffles the names around in the bowl as I approach.

“It’s taped to the bottom of the bowl,” Tony whispers.

I nod and sift through the slips of paper until I reach the bottom of the bowl. I unstick the name, flip it open just to be one hundred percent sure that it’s Clint and shove it in my pocket before grinning at Tony and turning to head back to my seat. As soon as I flop down onto the couch, Tony starts calling on the other members of the team. I watch with mild interest at everyone’s facial expressions as they unfold their slips of paper. Steve’s eyes widen momentarily before he folds the slip and slinks back to his seat. The corners of Clint’s mouth quirk up into a little smile, and Sam nods a couple of times. Bucky, Rhodey and Nat’s expressions are unreadable and Bruce just seems resigned to the fact that we’re even doing this. Scott takes one look at the name on his slip of paper, purses his lips, and turns on his heel to sit back down. Tony takes the last name in the bowl and tucks it into his back pocket.

“What now?” Bucky asks.

“Now we do whatever it is we do when we’re not on missions,” Tony answers. “I assume that’s paperwork, research and training. Unless you want to go out and shop for your secret Santas right now.”

Everyone sighs collectively and, one after another, they haul themselves out of their seats and go their separate ways. Even if everyone is annoyed at the idea of doing secret Santas, I think that they’ll have fun with it in the end.

“You okay there, (Y/N)?”

I look up at Tony and smile. “Yeah, I’m good.” Tony reaches out a hand to help me up and I take it. “I think I’m gonna go out and try to find a knife.”

“Do what you have to do,” Tony says. “I just hope they aren’t too crazy expensive.”

I shrug. “Like you said, I’ll do what I have to do.”

--

It took me five days wandering around eight different shopping centers to finally find the perfect knife. There’s a little specialty knife shop about two hours away from the tower just outside of Saratoga Springs that has a limited collection of beautifully restored, vintage switchblades.

As soon as I step through the door, the owner is there to help me out.

“What can I help you find?”

“I’m looking for a very specific black switchblade,” I answer. “It would be fairly old, but still in usable condition.”

The elderly man’s eyes brighten and he gestures for me to follow him. He slips behind the counter and stops in front of a case about three feet away from the register.

“All of our switchblades will be right here. I’m not sure if we’ll have what you’re looking for, but there is a fair selection.”

Scanning over the rows of knives, my eyes catch sight of one that’s nearly a carbon copy of Clint’s original knife.

“That one,” I say, pointing to the glossy black knife. “That’s the exact knife I’m looking for.”

The man’s greying eyebrows lift in surprise. “Are you sure? It’s not cheap, you know.”

“As long as he can use it like he does his other knives, it’s perfect.”

“It’s a gift, eh?” He says, carefully taking the knife from the display. “He must be very lucky to have someone like you.”

“Well, we’ll see how lucky he is after I give it to him.”

The man laughs and presses the knife into a cushioned box. I pay for the knife, and thank the man for his time. I leave the store without an ounce of doubt about my purchase.

-December 3rd-

“So,” Tony sidles up beside me, drink in hand. “Did you ever find that knife?”

“I sure did,” I shoot him a grin. “It’s perfect too. Almost exactly like the one that got destroyed.”

“Really? How much did that cost you?”

“Eh, nothing too crippling.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it then.”

I sigh and shake my head. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but it was almost a hundred dollars.”

Tony nearly spits out his drink. “Seriously?!”

“I may have given him one of Clint’s broken arrows and signed a couple of group photos for him to get him to knock down the price a little.”

“So you used the “We Saved The World Twice” discount, did you?”

“Maybe,” I mumble into my drink, glaring at him over the rim of the glass.

“I’m just kidding, I know how important this is to you.”

“I know, you banter because you love.”

“Exactly,”

“So, who did you get for secret Santa?”

“I got Barnes.”

I let out a low whistle. “How do you think you did?”

“Well I didn’t buy him any sort of weapon, so I think I did fairly well.”

I shake my head and toss back the rest of my drink. “As long as you didn’t get him stainless steel wipes, I think you’ll be alright.”

“I didn’t even think to get those,”

“Good. You shouldn’t unless you truly do have a death wish.”

“I’ll remember that for our next secret Santa,”

I smack his arm and he laughs, his eyes glittering.

Looking round the room, I find everyone talking and laughing. They seems happier than they’ve been in months. Steve leans on Bucky’s shoulder and whispers something in his ear, making Bucky laugh like he never has before while Sam shakes his head beside them, grinning ear to ear. Clint and Nat lean on the bar, pointing to different people milling about the party and snickering at each others comments. Scott bounces around the room, mingling with just about everyone. It’s his first Stark party, so his excitement is understandable.

Rhodey approaches us, beer in hand and a rare easy smile on his face.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Happy said that he and the security crew can wrap up down here if we want to head upstairs for the night.”

“Cool,” I shoot him and Tony a grin. “I’ll go let everyone else know if you and Tony wanna head upstairs.”

Rhodey nods and follows Tony to the elevator. When they’re out of sight, I start making the rounds, talking to people around the room that I recognize and letting the team know that we’re headed upstairs. We all slowly trickle into the common area upstairs, all of us lounging on couches and comfy chairs.

Someone tosses a gift into Steve’s lap and he looks up, blinking slowly at Bucky who had thrown the gift at him. A faint pink dusts his cheeks as he heads back to his seat. One at a time, each of us gets up and reveals who’s name they drew. Steve got Tony, Nat got Sam, Rhodey and Scott somehow got each other, Clint got Natasha and Sam got Bruce. The only person left who hasn’t received their gift is Clint. I slowly push myself up off the couch and hand a black box with a large red ribbon on it to him. He looks up at me, confusion written plainly on his features. I simply smile at him and head back to my seat.

I hear Clint gasp as soon as I sit down, and I know he’s opened his gift. I cautiously look up and find that Clint is on his feet, crossing the room towards me. He holds out a hand and I take it. He pulls me up from my seat and leads me away from the group and down the hallway. We’re followed by a loud “Oooh, someone’s in trouble!” from Sam, and I clap my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.

When Clint has decided that we’ve gone far enough, He turns around to face me.

“You… you bought that knife?”

“Well the one you lost was damaged beyond repair, so the only option was to replace it.”

“It must have cost you a fortune, I can’t accept it.”

I shake my head. “You can, and you will.” He scowls, but when I reach a hand up to cup his jaw his expression immediately softens. “I know how important that knife was to you. You were pretty torn up about losing it, and I wanted to fix that.”

“There’s absolutely nothing I did to deserve this,” He says softly.

“Well, like you said, I like your ass.”

“Wait, what?”

“I like you, Clint. And I know you like me too. Nat told me like a month ago.”

His eyes go impossibly wide. “She wasn’t lying then,” He pulls away from me and paces up and down the hall. “The one time she tells the truth, and I think she’s lying.”

“Clint, calm down,” I manage to catch his arm and stop his pacing. “What are you talking about?”

“Nat told me you liked me almost a month ago and I thought she was messing with me,”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re smart and gorgeous, and I’m kind of stupid and oblivious.” He shakes his head. “You can have just about any guy out there, and you seriously want me?”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, first of all, you’re not stupid. No one can aim like you do, and you’re constantly three steps ahead,” I push his hair off of his forehead and frown at him. “You get hurt a lot, and you don’t always put yourself first, but you care about keeping people safe. Plus, you’re one of the most handsome men I have ever seen in my life, you’ve got legs for days and killer abs. Who wouldn’t want to be with you?”

“Only one of the most handsome men?” He asks, a smile playing at his lips.

“You know what?” I lace my fingers through the hair at the back of his head and pull his face down towards mine. “Shut up.”

“Only if you make me,” He smirks and circles his arms around my waist.

“Gladly,”

I pull him into a kiss that’s gentle at first, but quickly becomes more heated. I bite gently at his bottom lip before pulling away, trying to catch my breath.

“Wow,” He pants out, eyes flitting over my face.

I tilt my head to the side. “I tell you what. Give it till tomorrow morning, think about it a bit, and then let me know if you really want to give the knife back. But, until then,” I take his hand in mine and lead him further down the hallway. “We can talk a little more about how gorgeous and smart you think I am.”

“But the others-” I cut him off with a pointed look, turning the knob of my door and backing inside. “Never mind, merry Christmas to me!”

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

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