Archive of Our Own ^beta

Clint ducked behind the nearest tree, waiting for the familiar explosion that would follow his arrow making contact with the bunker.

5…4…3…2…1

Except nothing happened. And certainly, nothing exploded.

Clint blinked.

He hadn’t hit his target? That almost never happened, not without outisde magic-like interference. He wasn’t called the world’s greatest marksman just because it sounded cool.

Whipping around the tree, he took aim again. This time he watched for a flicker, a protective shield, anything that could have sent his arrow off course.

There!

He saw a blur, but before he could process or react to it, he was on the ground.

“You didn’t see that coming?” A voice asked sarcastically.

Barton blinked at the cocksure man pacing beside him. He got a glimpse of a blue-grey shirt and silver hair before the kid blurred away again.

Jumping to his feet, arrow drawn, Barton scanned the area again looking for a blur. A rustled leaf. Any sign of the speeding kid.

In his distraction, he didn’t notice the bunker warming up for another shot.

Not until he got hit in the gut anyways.

He was down on the ground again for the second time in as many minutes, white hot pain ripping through his side.

“Clint!” Natasha yelled from nearby.

Damn, she was going to string him up for getting injured again.

Clint rolled over on his back with a groan, expecting Natasha to be glaring down at him by now.

But it wasn’t her face Clint saw when he opened his eyes again.

The silver haired kid from before was standing above him.

Clint instantly shoved the pain aside. His survival instincts kicking in as he watched the kid, the threat the agent part of him reminded insistently, loomed over him.

The kid had his head cocked to the side as he surveyed him, eyes swimming with emotions. Curiosity, confidence, anger, and determination were all there but, underneath it all the most prevalent emotion was fear.

His eyes were eerily familiar to Clint, for reasons he wouldn't like to admit to. Those eyes were all he had seen for years whenever he looked in the mirror, especially when he had been the kid’s age. Before he found Natasha, before SHIELD, before he ever met Laura.

This kid was living something similar to his Before. Capitalization damn well deserved. And, Clint knew, that wasn’t a good place for anyone to be. Let alone a kid who looked like he was barely out of his teens.

Clint opened his mouth to say something, what he didn’t know, when a branch snapped nearby.

Natasha was making her way towards him, yelling over the comm to the others.

The kid looked up, likely spotting Nat, and then down at Clint again. His cocky smirk never left, even as he mock-saluted Clint and sped off again.

“Clint!” Natasha shouted again as she fells to her knees beside him.

Safe in the knowledge that Nat was there to watch over him, Clint stopped pushing back the pain and let it flood through him with a groan.

Natasha was speaking into her comm, asking for evac, but the words blurred to Clint.

The one thing that his mind did seem to hold on to, was the kid’s lost eyes.

As Thor took Natasha’s place, his vision greyed over before fading to blessed and pain free blackness.

By the time Clint saw the kid again he knew it was really kids plural, and he knew their names.

Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins who’d allowed Hydra to experiment on them to save their country.

It was a sentiment that Barton could relate to. Particularly the part of him that had spent time working with military, people who would and did lay their lives down for their countries.

The only thing that had changed for him was that now the people he worked with were willing to die for the entire world, and not just their tiny part of it.

Clint took a place up high, balanced precariously on the railing, and began taking out the henchmen that were pouring out of the inner maze of the ship.

He did this all while keeping an eye on the others. Tracking their progress, and calling out advice when he saw something.

Simultaneously he kept about a third of his attention concentrated on tracking Pietro.

He hadn’t lasted this long in his career of choice just because of his ability to sight a target, he also saw more than the average person did. More than even enhanced people like Steve and Thor could see.

That was why as the fight went on, and he learned to look for it, he could see the silver blur that was Pietro Maximoff. It was faint, barely there, and almost too fast to see. Almost.

Mostly, he saw it out of the corner of his eye and by the time he turned Pietro had moved on.

But each time it happened he got just that much closer.

Maybe he would have eventually gotten a clear shot at him, or maybe he wouldn't have. They’d never know because around the time he was getting close enough at predicting the kid’s movements to attempt a shot, his sister started with her mind tricks.

And his attention instantly shifted to her. He wasn’t risking having his mind played with again. Never again.

Thor was the first to go off comms.

Clint couldn’t help his paranoid act of checking that he had an arrow that would potenetially be able to take out her powers if she tried for him, or at least disrupt them, without permanently hurting her.

They were just kids, bratty punk ass kids, but still kids and the father in him balked at the idea of permanently hurting them.

For all that they were on the opposite side and Clint was wary of them, they weren’t the same level of enemy that Ultron was.

Next to stop answering was Steve, but what really worried Clint was when Nat quickly followed.

She had a lot of shit events in her past that could be catastrophic for her if she was forced to relive even one of them. And they couldn't afford for her to go off the rails and have to rebuild herself again.

As he shot off another arrow, he heard the girl, Wanda creep up on him. She wasn’t as quiet as she thought she was. He kept his position, he let her get close.

Once she was close enough, and in all likelihood reaching out for him, he whipped around and stuck the taser-like arrow Stark had designed to her forehead.

He watched dispassionately as her eyes went wide, and her body shook with the jolts his arrow caused.

“I’ve done the mind control thing, I’m not a fan.” He quipped sarcastically.

Once again, before he could make his next move, Pietro was there. He wasted no time ripping the arrow off her forehead before scooping his sister up into his arms.

He paused just long enough to glare at Clint before he was speeding off yet again.

Clint sighed. He wasn’t building any bridges today.

“We’re just a few hours out.”

“From where?”

“A safehouse.”

Satisfied, and yet not satisfied with the answer, Tony grumbled but backed away.

He'd learned when it was safe to pester the archer, and when it was better to drop it.

Tony hadn’t been kidding when he said they’d all taken a hit. Even he and Barton were off kilter and their minds hadn’t been played with.

As he passed Romanoff, he paused to rest a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m going to catch some shut eye,” He told her, even knowing he probably wouldn’t get any rest. “Barton could use some company.”

He didn’t pretend to understand the two ex-SHIELD agents’ relationship, he volleyed between platonic life partners and secret spouses on an almost daily basis. But he did know that the best thing for them both right now was each other.

Natasha looked at him blankly, before shakily getting to her feet. When she stumbled Tony grabbed her around the waist, tugging her to the cockpit.

“Back so soon Stark?” Clint snarked without looking away from the controls.

Tony grinned as he maneuvered Natasha so that she dropped into Clint’s lap. “Special delivery” he sang, watching with unholy glee as Barton quickly switched on autopilot and grabbed at Natasha so she wouldn’t slip off his lap.

He raised an irritated eyebrow at Stark, before stilling as Natasha shifted.

She had instinctually curled into him, tucking in close and resting her forehead on his throat.

A knot in his stomach Clint hadn’t even noticed was there, relaxed.

“Thanks Tony.” He said softly, not wanting to wake the now dozing Natasha.

Tony smiled, a soft smile that the Avengers rarely saw and a smile they all privately treasured when he gifted it to them.

And before Clint could say anything else Tony took one last look at the now peaceful assassin twins and moved to sit beside Steve.

Sitting there, he couldn't help but move just close enough so that their elbows and knees brushed together.

Steve closed his eyes briefly, and then leaned his weight into Tony.

Thor watched over them all, standing sentry between them and Bruce.

They all knew trying to comfort Bruce right now would be a fruitless endeavor.

Back in the cockpit Clint turned away from checking on the others and shifted so that he could hold Natasha close with one hand and take control of the quinjet back over with the other. He needed the distraction of manually piloting. And it would be too much of a risk to program their destination into the quinjet's autopilot.

He couldn’t risk Ultron being able to track them. He’d killed JARVIS after all. Who'd had access to everything Stark built, including this quinjet and its autopilot coordinates.

Some might call him paranoid, but were you paranoid when someone really was after you? Clint didn’t think so. Most covert operatives were paranoid by either practice or nature, without it they tended to die young. He and Nat were some of the best and had lived longer than most in their profession. Barring Fury of course.

And as Tony liked to say he was 'The Spy', and his level of paranoia matched.

Looking out the view screen, he watched with something close to peace cloaking him as the sun began to rise in the horizon.

Over his many years first as a soldier,  a mercenary, a SHIELD agent, and finally as an Avenger he’d learned to enjoy the little things. To take peace where you could find it.

To stop and smell the roses, so to speak.

He had a feeling this was an idea none of his teammates understood. It was something he hoped he could teach them.

He’d certainly be showing them, proving that having a second (almost normal life) wasn’t impossible for people like them.

After all, he was taking them to the Barton Family Farm.

Steve glanced over at Tony, who was lightly dozing beside him, his head inches from resting on Steve’s shoulder.

He was loathe to wake him up, Stark got so little sleep even on a normal day, and this wasn’t a normal day. Hadn’t been for a couple days.

“Rise and shine Guys,” Barton called as he set the quinjet down. “We’re here.”

With a sigh, Steve shook Tony awake. He watched as Tony woke slowly, blinking as the last few days events filtered through him.

Tony eye’s lost the sparkle they’d woken up with.

The genius, billionaire, philanthropist roughly shoved himself up and out of his seat and just beat Bruce to being the first outside.

Behind him Steve shook his head sadly.

Thor pat his shoulder roughly as he moved to stand beside him.

“Do not fret over Stark,” Thor advised, “He is adept at putting himself back together.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Steve confessed.

It was true that over the years Tony had pieced himself back together again and again. After catastrophe after catastrophe. And from what Steve could tell, each time he lost a little more of himself. The important bits. The parts that made him Tony.

He wasn’t sure he could watch Tony do it again. Wasn’t sure what would be left of Tony on the other end.

“Don’t let him do it alone then.” Clint advised, having snuck up on them.

Natasha leaned heavily into the archer’s side. “What he said. Get your act together Captain.”

Steve blinked, before nodding.

He was still angry with Tony. Frustrated that the man he’d been beginning to think of as a partner and a friend, hadn’t told him about Ultron. Had gotten them into a mess that could have been avoided if they’d simply communicated.

A problem he’d previously thought they’d gotten past.

But if his dream of fear had done anything, it had reaffirmed his desire to stop this. To stop Ultron. To save his friends so that they could go home, all of them, Together.

Clearing his head with a shake he stood and followed the others down the ramp.

 Tony trailed behind Barton and Romanoff as they limped their way up to the rather rundown looking farmhouse.

Beside him Thor looked around curiously. “What is this place?”

“A safehouse.” Tony parroted back, his mood lightening with the fresh air.

“Let’s hope so,” Clint muttered ahead of them as he pushed the door open, helping Natasha in and placing her where she could lean against the nearest wall.

His next words surprised them all. Well except Romanoff, but she knew everything. It freaked Tony out sometimes.

“Honey, I’m home!” Clint called.

Tony’s first thought was that the man was being sarcastic, quoting the movie cliché that went along with that line.

That was proven false when a very pregnant woman rounded the corner quickly, eyes only for Clint.

The two fell into each other, kissing briefly but sweetly.

Tony’s brain couldn’t connect the image with what he thought he knew of their archer.

“She’s gotta be an agent,” He whispered to Thor, who shot him an amused look. He was laughing at him, Tony knew.

It only got worse from there.

He heard what sounded like a herd of animals thundering down the hall, and before he knew it two miniature humans were whipping around the corner and tackle hugging Clint who had stooped down and greeted them with a roar.

Tony pointed at them dramatically, “Mini-agents!” He mock whispered, just loud enough to be sure the entire team heard.

Steve was next to shoot him an amused look.

Hoisting the girl on his hip, and keeping his arm around the shoulder of the boy, Clint turned to face the team.

“Team, meet my family. Laura, Lila and Cooper. Family, meet my team.” He introduced, looking expectantly between the two distinct groups. Both family in their own unique way.

They all watched each other quietly, while Clint looked rather bemused at the stalemate going on.

The first to break it was little Lila Barton as she wiggled out of her dad’s grasp and darted for the sole female on the team.

“Aunty Nat!” She cried as she threw herself at her favorite, and only, Aunt.

The team blinked.

And just like that, the tide broke and they began to mingle. Steve stepped forward to shake Laura’s hand, Tony trailing behind him while Thor crouched down so that he was eye level with Cooper.

Cooper smiled at him shyly, “You’re Thor.” He declared softly.

“Yes, I am youngling.” Thor replied, unsure of how to respond. There weren’t many younglings on Asgard, and he hadn’t been around many since he came to stay on Midgard.

Behind him, Bruce covered a smile with his hand, all while maintaining a careful distance between himself and the civilians. Clint’s family.

Clint watched this all occur with a smile. He’d thought his worlds colliding, figuratively and literally, would have made him anxious. Worried. But instead it was like everything was falling into place.

Natasha had had a place with the Barton family since they'd been permanently partnered up, and the others seemed to be fitting in as if they’d always been there.

He looked over as he felt Laura come up beside him, gripping his hand tightly. “This is nice isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He agreed, eyes softening as he memorized the scene in front of him, “It really is.”

Or it was, until the spell was broken by Thor jolting, and then striding from the room.

Concerned, Clint glanced at Steve, who nodded. He’d handle it.

Clint nodded back, before letting Laura draw him away as the remaining avengers  set about distracting, and doting on his two hellions.

“They’re just kids, Laura. Punks but…” Clint sighed, as he finished telling his wife about what had happened the last few days. Clearance levels be damned, he’d always told her everything.

“They just need someone to teach them a little respect. Some manners.” He told her, unable to shake the idea that these kids were in over their heads.

Laura cast a knowing look at him, “And that someone would be you?”

Clint shrugged. Before confessing what had been nagging him since he’d first seen the kid. Pietro.

“I look at them, and I see myself when I was that age. I just needed that helping hand, that invitation to join SHIELD. Without it I don’t know where I would’ve ended up.” He waved a hand around, encompassing the house, “definitely not here. With you, and the kids, and the team.”

He shook his head, “If I can be that hand for them, if I can get them out… they haven’t passed the point of no return yet.”

Laura narrowed her eyes at him, searching his face. She must have found whatever she was looking for, because she nodded and moved even closer and well within his personal space.

A bubble he usually kept people out of. Even Natasha only pushed her way through in extreme circumstances, having her own personal space issues.

“Bring them home then.” It was an order, not a suggestion.

Clint grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

“But this team Clint…” she started, getting to the subject she’d really wanted to discuss, “I look at them and I see gods.”

The sentence, even said as gently as it was, was a punch to Clint’s gut. She was voicing the very thing he often thought.

He was just an archer, just a man with exceptionally good sight and athletic ability. What use was he really to a team of superheroes? Sure, he was above the average soldier, above even the exceptional soldiers. He was an elite athlete, an elite assassin, and he never missed a mark (barring magic and super powers).

But even with all of that, there was no contest. No matter which teammate he was paired up against, he would always be the one found wanting.

Most days he was at peace with that. Didn’t mean he wanted to hear it from his wife.

“And they don’t need me.” He finished, saying what she had obviously decided not to explicitly say.

She surprised him when she shook her head ‘no’ vigorously.

“I think they do need you, Clint.” She revealed, allaying his insecurity about whether they really needed him. At least until the next time his abilities fell short.

But then again, he knew that was his inner abused child talking. He’d been to years of therapy to learn to see past that. To see his own value, to see his value to others, to accept that someone like Laura could love him. That he deserved every wonderful thing he’d been given.

That he deserved to be happy.

It had been a long road, and if it hadn’t been for Nick forcing him into therapy, and for Laura’s steady support, he wasn’t sure he would have gotten to this point. The point where he could recognize that irrational voice inside him and consciously decide not to listen to it.

Though, he had to acknowledge that Laura’s quick denial certainly made that process quicker and easier.

Laura had never lied to him before. He didn’t expect her to start now, and certainly not about this.

“And that’s even scarier.” She revealed, drifting ever closer to him, laying her hand on his shoulder and kneading the sore muscle she knew was hidden under the flannel.

In return he rested his hands on her waist, reeling her in so she was standing between his legs and coincidentally bringing her pregnant belly flush against his chest.

“They’re a mess Clint.” She told him quietly, watching through the window with sad eyes as Steve and Tony talked in the yard.

Clint followed her gaze, smiling fondly as he watched the two begin to argue and gesture at each other.

“I guess they’re my mess though.”

Dinner was a lively affair, especially once ex-Director Nick Fury showed up to join in. He might not be the Director of SHIELD anymore, but he was still one of the only people Clint trusted with everything.

With his family, with his team, with finding a way to save the world from Ultron.

Fury fit right in, helping Laura set the table, and navigating the mess that was inevitable in a house with two growing kids.

The kids darted everywhere, talking to all the adults, interrupting their conversations and generally being nuisances.

Clint couldn’t bring himself to corral them, reveling in the familiar chaos.

He’d missed them. This.

Sometimes he very much felt like he lived two lives, with two families. Laura and the kids, and then The Team. The only people who crossed between them used to be him, Natasha, and occasionally Fury.

And now it was all colliding.

Beside him Laura was chatting with Natasha, explaining to the disappointed assassin that her namesake was in fact, a Nathaniel and not a second Natasha.

Clint knew she wasn’t really upset when she looked over at him, their eyes connecting briefly. A thousand things passed between them in that moment, and afterwards Clint felt more at peace with everything than he had been since Ultron had crashed their after party.

He was home, Laura and the kids by his side, Natasha nearby and happy, his team there and healthy and lively… he didn’t know what else he could ask for.

Except for the obvious.

For Ultron to be gone, for Thor to return from wherever the hell he’d gone off to, and for the twins to be safely here among them.

He knew the latter bit was probably not an idea shared by the rest of the team (except maybe Steve who had a soft spot for just about everyone and especially for kids who made bad choices) but Clint instinctively knew that the Maximoff brats did belong here.

And if he had anything to do with it, after he beat some sense into them, they would be here.

After dinner was over, and the table cleared Clint was reminded how late it was geting when Lila began yawning from her place in Clint’s lap, and even Cooper’s eyes started drifting shut.

Laura smiled, having noticed the same then, and lifted Lila from Clint’s grasp. “How about I put them to bed, and you guys can talk.”

Catching her hand, Clint kissed her palm, “I’ll be up soon.”

“You better be.” Was her parting shot as she herded the mildly protesting Cooper out of the room too.

Those left in the kitchen listened as the trio made their way upstairs, Cooper bartering for five more minutes, and Laura placidly saying no.

“They’ve sure grown up quick.” Fury observed.

Natasha smiled, “They really have.”

“That’s supposed to be my line.” Clint pouted, grinning when Nat swatted at him.

“Not that this isn’t domestically adorable,” Tony cut in, “But what are we going to do about Junior?”

And so Fury laid out his plan, though in his typical fashion he took his time about it.

But it all eventually led to Bruce’s key revelation.

“Has anyone heard from Doctor Cho?”

 "I can sense his mind..." Wands softly exclaimed from where she was standing between Pietro and the cradle.

Pietro paused in his pacing to glance at his sister, who was now moving closer to the machine in the center of the lab.

He watched warily as she rested her hands on the cradle, knowing she was dipping into Ultron’s new body's mind. And by extension, Ultron’s mind.

His apprehension was understandable, as it wouldn’t be the first time Wanda had gotten more than she’d bargained for when entering someone’s mind. Back when their powers were still new she hadn’t been able to control it, and had often found herself drawn into the minds of the Hydra scientists and soldiers surrounding them.

For all that their goals lined up, the twins were no longer under any illusion that they were good people after that.

His attention was immediately all on her when she stumbled back from the cradle with an aborted cry.

Concerned, he moved closer, watching as Ultron surged to his feet.

"You... you said you only wanted to destroy the Avengers!" Wanda cried, backing into Pietro's waiting embrace. Pietro kept a careful eye on Ultron even as he wrapped an arm around Wanda’s waist, and brushed her hair back from her face.

“Wanda?”

Unlike Pietro, Ultron seemed to know exactly what she was talking about.

“All humans will be given a chance to change."

Pietro's heart sank. He suddenly had a guess as to what Wanda had seen.

"And if they don't?" He asked, fearing but already knowing the answer.

Ultron very tellingly couldn't answer.

Horrified by the revelation the twins leant into each other for strength, Pietro pressing his lips to Wanda’s temple in the only silent reassurance he could offer.

Luckily, for the twins, just then there were reports of the Avengers in the area. Pietro used Ultron’s resultant distraction to grab Wanda and speed away.

In the short time it took them to get far away from Ultron, to what appeared to be a backstreet market place, there was already news footage of the fight on the televisions set up in the stalls.

He and Wanda watched as Captain America and Ultron duked it out on top of a semi, as Widow dropped from a jet on a motor bike to chase them, with the jet following from above.

If Pietro had to guess he'd say the one piloting the jet was the very same archer they kept running into. Literally in his case.

He didn't have a basis for the guess, just a gut feeling.

“Pietro…” Wanda murmured as they watched the fight move from the truck to the passing train. A train full of innocent bystanders.

He sighed.

“Yeah, yeah.” He agreed, knowing arguing with her would just waste precious time. Stooping down he scooped her up in his arms, heading towards the fight this time instead of away from it.

When they arrived Rogers looked to be in trouble. Which only made Pietro relish his intervening rescue more.

The shock on Ultron’s surprisingly impressionable face once he saw who had interfered was strangely satisfying for Pietro.

“Don’t do this,” he tried, switching his atention to his sister as Wanda approached him.                                       

Wanda waved her hands and the railings twisted to block his path towards the civilians. “What choice do we have?” She snarled.

So angered was Ultron that he threw himself from the train. They barely had time to celebrate what seemed to Pietro to be a minor victory, when Rogers bolted past them to the front of the train.

Looking ahead, it was clear as to why the captain had panicked. The train was running out of track. And the only thing in their path was building and roads, full of more innocent bystanders.

The sight made Pietro sigh. That was the problem with these overpopulated cities, it was impossible to find anywhere where there wasn't potential colateral damage.

Pietro exchanged a glance with Wanda, but before either could say anything Rogers was back.

“Civilians in our way.” He said, looking at Pietro. It wasn’t worded as either an order or a request, but his gaze was clearly expectant.

And for the first time in his life, Pietro followed an instruction that hadn’t come from Wanda.

Clint blew out a frustrated breath as he readjusted the dials once again.

If anyone could get a message to him when in the hands of someone like Ultron, who was literally tapped into the internet, it would be his partner. The one and only Natasha Romanoff.

And while he trusted her to take care of herself, he couldn’t help but worry. He’d worry if it was of any of his teammates, but Natasha would always be different. He didn’t know what he’d do if something happened to her.

Laura liked to jokingly call Nat his Work Wife, and honestly she couldn’t be more right. Natasha was his partner in everything, not just work, but maybe especially with work.

In the beginning, things had been a bit rocky with the three of them, trying to figure out where the boundaries were. Laura had been understandably wary of how attached Clint had become to Natasha once he’d recruited her into SHIELD.

And that was before they were partnered up by Fury.

But once Clint brought Nat home, and introduced them, things had fallen into place. And they were all the closer for it.

In some ways, Auntie Nat was more like a third parent. To the point that when Clint couldn’t make it home, or was caught up in a long term mission, Natasha would go instead.

She’d been there, with and without Clint, for birthdays, play recitals, football games, whatever had the kid’s short attention span at the time. Between the three of them, someone was always present at the kid’s many and varied events.

It meant a lot to all of them, that she’d let them draw her into their family. Natasha had high walls, and rarely let anyone in, let alone an entire family.

But as Clint liked to say, the Barton charm could win over anyone.

And yes, he would admit, their inability to take no for an answer had probably played a part.

He was pulled from his nostalgic and ultimately useless thoughts, when one of the transmitters started picking up a signal.

Clint twisted in his seat to pick up the headset. Yes! He cheered mentally as he recognized it. It was morse code. He knew he could count on Nat to tell them where she was.

Some part of him was not at all surprised to see she was in Sokovia, it made sense that Ultron set up there.

Just as he was getting up to tell Stark and Banner, he heard a commotion above. Glancing up through the glass floor, he saw that Cap was back and he’d brought the twins.

Clint frowned.

From the sound of things they were all arguing pretty heavily. Another thing that seemed to be going around these days.

Just in case, Clint reached for the gun he kept taped to the bottom of the desk. And it was a good thing too, because moments after he’d switched the safety off Pietro was zooming around the room, disrupting whatever it was Stark had been trying to do.

And that just didn’t work for Clint.

With a smirk he aimed just above, shooting the glass out from under the bratty speedster. He was careful to make sure the bullet wouldn’t actually hit the kid, just take the floor out from under his feet.

Pietro fell through with a crash, landing on the broken glass with an audible crunch.

“What?” Clint mocked, “You didn’t see that coming?”

Pietro arched off the ground with a curse, glaring after the retreating archer while absentmindedly knocking the glass off him.

That had hurt his pride a lot more than his body, not that he’d ever admit it. He could feel Wanda’s concerned irritation from here.

It took him several moments to catch his breath, and pick the glass out of his skin. His healing was improved, and if he wasn’t careful his skin would heal over the glass. Something he knew from experience would be very painful.

He looked up when the arguing suddenly stopped, only to be replaced with the crackle of lightening.

“What the hell?” he wondered aloud even as he pushed himself to standing upright. Time to go see what the crazy superheroes were getting up to now.

And more importantly, what they were getting up to with Wanda in their midst.

Once he was upstairs he skidded to a stop next to Wanda, adding a fancy twist to the end just because he could, which judging by the way Wanda’s lips twitched had done exactly what he wanted.

Point to Pietro.

Looking around, it was fairly clear what the lightning had done.

After all there was suddenly a new, floating, figure that looked remarkably similar to the figure that previously inhabited the cradle.

He exchanged a wary look with Wanda. Was this just another Ultron? Or Ultron 2.0?

Apparently not. Or at least, the thing, didn’t think he was the same as Ultron.

As the floating figure rejoined them, things came to a head again.

Everyone naturally burst out arguing again.

“We can’t trust him!”

“He’s made from JARVIS, not Ultron!”

“But part of Ultron was downloaded into him!”

“I only sensed destruction when I looked into his mind before.”

“Like we trust your assessment anyways.”

“I prefer to go by Vision, I believe.”

“See? Different name!”

Pietro sighed. Last time he’d interrupted by switching everything off, but that wasn’t exactly an option right now.

Before he could figure out how to get everyone on track again, or at least talking instead of shouting, the robot? Man? Vision? Whatever he was, interceded.

“I do not know how to make you trust me, only to say that I am not now on Ultron’s side, and will not be as long as his goal is the destruction of life on Earth.” He stated, as if he was talking about the weather and not about his questionable loyalty.

“But we are wasting time,” Here he picked up Thor’s hammer and held it out to him, “We must go.”

The Avengers stared.

Pietro didn’t understand the significance this action seemed to hold for them, but apparently Vision had inadverdently stumbled on the one thing that would convince them to trust him.

Even Rogers, the most outspoken against Vision, seemed begrudgingly convinced. “Alright everyone. You have five minutes, grab what you need.”

Immediately everyone moved off, and Pietro and Wanda were left standing there awkwardly.

The archer, Pietro really needed to start refering to him as Barton if only for simlicity's sake, turned back to look at them.

“Locker room is this way,” He said nonchalantly, “I’m sure we can find something for you two.”

Pietro looked at Wanda, only moving forward when she nodded.

Once in the locker room, Clint led them to some lockers on the far wall. “There’s an assortment of equipment and field uniforms here, there should be some that fit you. The jackets are bullet resistant so think about grabbing one of those.”

With that said, he moved to the other side, and opened what could only be his set of equipment lockers as they were filled to the brim with arrows and bows.

Looking back, Pietro made quick time of finding gear that would increase his speed and not hinder him. And then he saw something perfect. A red leather jacket. Wanda’s favorite color, and if Barton was telling the truth, good protection for her.

He held it out to her silently.

She took it with a wondrous smile.

Now fully kitted up she moved towards the door, looking back when Pietro didn’t immediately move to follow her.

Pietro had glanced back at Barton. The older man had moved from grabbing his gear to sitting on the bench, staring intensely at something in his hand. A picture.

He looked back at Wanda, “I will catch up.”

She raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

Pietro sped over to the archer, focusing more on silence than speed this time, and stopped just behind him.

He glanced at the creased and clearly much held picture. It was of a woman and two kids, all dark haired and grinning from where they were standing in front of a barn. At first glance the two kids, a boy and a girl, didn’t look much like the archer. But something in their faces, even from the angle of the camera, was familiar.

For some reason he was surprised to find out one of the Avengers had a family. He supposed he’d just always assumed they were like him and Wanda. Orphans and family-less.

He’d thought he and Wanda were the lucky ones, because at least they had each other. He didn’t know what to make of this new information. Did the others have families too? Spouses and kids?

“That’s my wife Laura, and my kids Cooper and Lila.” Barton said suddenly, startling Pietro.

Pietro floundered, not having expected the archer to notice him. And he certainly hadn’t expected him to explain the picture to him. Something that could potentially be used against him.

“They are cute kids.” He heard himself say.

Barton smiled, “This is an old picture, Coopers almost as tall as my shoulders now.”

Pietro was forced to meet the archer’s eyes then, and he looked so… wistful and paternal that for a moment it took his breath away.

Maybe that’s why he pulled out his own talisman, his own picture. He’d told Ultron the story, and it had been a mistake. But somehow, he didn’t think showing the archer the picture would be a mistake.

Judging by Barton’s own photograph, he would understand what Pietro was trying to tell him.

He held it out wordlessly to the archer.

Barton glanced at him, before turning his attention to the picture Pietro was showing him.

It had been a rare day where both his parents had gotten off work and he and Wanda hadn’t had school. They’d gone to one of the nearby parks and spent the entire day there, playing.

They’d had someone take the picture, because his mom had loved to photograph their good days. To remind them.

He and Wanda hadn’t been in a picture of any kind since they died.

In it their parents were standing in the middle, their arms around each other. Pietro and Wanda were next to them, Wanda on his back and grinning in a way he rarely saw now.

Barton handed the picture back silently, tucking his own into a hidden pocket in his shirt Pietro hadn’t noticed before.

Pietro was stupidly grateful that he didn’t comment on it, he was already having to choke back his rising emotions. He had never shown anyone the picture before, not even Wanda. They had their own keepsakes of their parents, and had silently agreed to keep them to themselves.

Wanda, Pietro knew, had a locket that had been passed down the maternal side of their family for hundreds of years that she never took off. Inside was a picture of both their mother and their father, one on each side.

The Maximoff clan had been a matriarchy for centuries, and Pietro privately thought that this was why Wanda liked to boss him around so much. Why he let her with minimal complaining.

Their mother had definitely been the force to be reckoned with in their family, and Wanda was very much like her.

Barton stood slowly from the bench, as if trying not to startle Pietro, and stooped down to pick up his bow and quiver from where they’d been resting against the bench.

He paused to look at Pietro, his gaze narrowed and assessing as he surveyed him. Pietro had a feeling this man saw more than most.

“If we make it out of this alive,” Clint started, “Remind me to tell you my life story. We have more in common than you think.”

Pietro blinked at him stupidly.

“Let’s go kid, we’ve got the world to save.” Clint said when Pietro continued to just gape at him, squeezing his shoulder as he moved past him.

Pietro grinned helplessly, “Who you calling kid, old man?” He returned as he followed the man out.

The entire exchange took a couple of minutes at most, and yet it meant more to Pietro than he could describe.

People rarely took an interest in him and his sister, that didn’t relate to their powers. Pietro wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, but he had a feeling Wanda would know.

Wanda didn’t know.

She waited on the ship for her brother, having been in the back of his mind for the entirety of the conversation.

They’d been connected even before the experiments, they’d always been able to tell when something was wrong with the other. That connection was only more enhanced now.

As such she’d seen and heard everything through her brother’s mind, and was at just as much of a loss as her bother about what to do.

She pushed it aside for the moment, focusing on her surroundings.

Pietro and Barton were the last to join them, Pietro having walked there with the archer instead of speeding ahead.

Wanda smiled knowingly at him as he moved to stand beside her.

Once he was next to her, she tangled their fingers together.

‘Made a new friend?’ she teased mentally.

Pietro ignored her with a barely audible huff, and watched as Barton moved to the cockpit and started pre-flight.

Rogers, meanwhile, began his speech and laid out the plan.

“…Our first priority will be getting the Sokovian people out of the city and away from harm…”

Wanda frowned, unable to help but wonder if the Captain was only saying this part for her and Pietro’s benefit.

Or she was, until Barton unwittingly put her mind at ease.

“Guess that’s my job like usual?” he asked, spinning his chair around, autopilot engaged.

Rogers nodded at him.

Barton turned to them, “Since Nat’s not here, you two will help me. After all, you know Sokovia and her people better than any of us.”

Nodding her agreement, Wanda elbowed Pietro in the ribs before he could say something likely stupid and provoking.

For the rest of the briefing, Wanda only listened with half an ear as Rogers assigned the others their tasks.

Thor was to try and determine what Ultron and Hydra had been doing in the labs, Rogers and Barton were to help get the civilians out, Banner was to try and find Romanoff if she didn’t find him first, and Stark was to distract and stall Ultron so that they would have time to get the civilians out of harm’s way.

It all sounded simple and easy when Rogers talked it out, but Wanda knew plans never worked out the way you wanted them to.

What was the proverb? It had been one of her father’s favorites. He’d often quoted it to them when something inevitably went wrong on a day to day basis.

She smiled as she remembered, hearing his gruff, but gentle voice saying it in her head. “Man plans, and God laughs.”

Next to her Pietro was growing restless as the Avengers settled in separate areas of the ship to mentally prepare themselves.

Pietro nudged her, tilting his head towards the seats that were coincidentally closest to the cockpit.

Wanda wasn’t a fool, especially when it came to her brother, but let him lead her over to the seats anyways.

Once they were seated, she leaned into him and let her eyes fall shut. She half dozed and because of that time went by fast and before she knew it Pietro was shaking her awake.

They were home again.

Everything was exploding around them.

They’d barely been able to get anyone out before the iron legion, under Ultron’s control, showed up. And then, the city was flying and everything stopped making any kind of sense.

Clint growled as he used an explosive arrow to take out a group of them that had been trying to flank him and Wanda.

From the beginning of the battle, he’d decided to stick with the twins, and make sure they were handling everything well. Powers or not, they were rookies and had never experienced a fight on this scale.

Pietro was clearing the way for the civilians, grabbing the ones he could carry and getting them to where they were trying to corral them. The city was flying, and half of the city’s people were still here.

They didn’t have anywhere to genuinely safe to take them, but they were trying. The best they could do was try to creat safe zones and ferry them there.

Wanda on the other hand, was helping him clear the robots in this section. Thankfully, she seemed content to stick close to him. Made his job easier.

As Pietro paused to catch his breath and check in with his sister, Clint spotted a robot coming up behind them, one they hadn’t noticed while they leant into eachother. There was also one coming at him from a much closer range.

Clint swore, and pulled two arrows out of his quiver. The first he used to take out the one behind the twins, startling them both.

He quickly set his bow down and flipped the other arrow in his hand and used it to stab at the Ultron-robot approaching him, which had used his distraction to get much closer. Too close to use his bow with any kind of effectiveness.

The arrow only slowed it down, and the attacking bot grabbed for him before he could back out of its reach. He wrestled with it for a moment, wrangling one hand free so he could twist down and pull a knife out of its holster on his thigh.

Once the knife was in his hand, he wasted no time stabbing it through its eye and into where its brain would be if it were human.

That did the trick, and it felt to the ground, lifeless.

Breathing heavy, he looked up to see the twins staring at him with wide eyes.

He rolled his shoulders, “Back to work.” He ordered, picking up his bow and checking it for any damage.

The Twins hesitated a moment more, before following his lead.

Wanda moved closer to him, putting her back to him in a show of trust that gave him a minor thrill, while Pietro gave him a nod of thanks before zooming off again.

The fight blurred after that, as Clint tried to fight off the robots, watch Wanda’s back and keep an eye out for Pietro and his tell-tale silver blur.

When Clint, and she had to call him Clint after the pep talk he’d just given her, left her behind in the room they'd sheltered in Wanda closed her eyes and concentrated.

She’d been low level tracking the avengers’ minds since they’d gotten to Sokovia.

Rogers had noticed, and allowed her to do it without comment. Thor had welcomed her in with a guilelessness she was starting to expect from him. He even let her see his plans and movements as they formed in his mind.

It made her wonder if he’d worked with someone with powers like her before.

With Banner she had warily, and very lightly, tapped into his mind. She didn’t want to make him angry at her again. Her link to him was just strong enough of that she got a vague sense of where he was, a sense that got stronger once he was Hulk.

It was through Banner that she found Romanoff, and she’d approached her mind very carefully. The woman had allowed her in, but Wanda had gotten the express feeling that if she tried anything untoward she would pay for it dearly.

But it was with Clint that she had been most careful. He’d shown a strong aversion to any kind of mental contact before, and part of Wanda liked the man. Wanted him to like her.

She didn’t look too closely at which part of her that was.

So when she had reached out to his mind earlier, she had stopped just outside his mental walls. Then she had done the mental equivalent of knocking on his mental doors.

She had been very surprised when he immediately let her in, peripherally at least.

‘This will help you?’ he’d asked mentally, ‘You won’t mess with my mind?’

Wanda had nodded physically and mentally. ‘I swear it.’

The archer had considered her for a moment, tilting his head.

“Okay.” He said aloud, as he mentally lowered his shields. Privately Wanda was impressed, not many people were aware enough mentally to have protective walls, let alone be able to consciously manipulate them.

It was a sign that he’d been exposed to telepathy before, and likely not had a good experience with it considering his vehement reaction last time she’d attempted anything.

Clint brushed past her and off the ramp, reaching out to squeeze her hand on the way out.

It was because of her presence in all their minds that she knew right now Pietro was making his way towards them, that Romanoff was fighting alongside Rogers, and that Thor and Tony were providing air support.

More importantly, it was how she knew that outside the building she’d just fallen apart in, Clint was outnumbered and pinned down.

She could sense his determination to fight anyway, and likely win, but not without some injury.

It was his grim determination that got through to her. If he, a human with special skills but no real powers, was out there fighting, how could she not?

She burst out of the house, flinging her hands to take out all the rapidly approaching Ultron-bots.

She was an Avenger.

Pietro was naturally one of the first to reach the reach the church when Stark called them there.

He stayed in the background while the others converged, searching the horizon for Wanda’s approaching figure. Through their connection he could sense her drawing closer, and that she wasn’t alone.

Sure enough there were two figures picking their way across the debris on his left.  One red figure and one black figure.

Once she reached the church he zoomed to her side, gripping her forearm gently. “You are alright?”

Wanda smiled, twisting her arm in his grasp to grip his arm in return. “I am fine, brother.”

Pietro let out a breath, before turning to the archer. Barton. “And you, old man? Ready to keel over yet?”

Barton wasn’t impressed, “I’m old? At least I’m not going grey yet.”

“It’s not grey!” Pietro protested, his free hand rising to touch his hair, “Its silver!”

Barton just raised a smug eyebrow, “Sure it is.”

Beside them Wanda laughed.

Pietro opened his mouth to argue some more, when he was interrupted by Romanoff’s arrival.

She made an immediate beeline for Barton, “Clint.”

Barton turned to her with a grin, opening his arms.

Romanoff stepped into his grasp and seemed to collapse against him. Pietro watched as Barton held her weight for a moment, his hand carding through her hair.

It seemed that as quick as they were to comfort each other, they were just as quick to recover and stop.

Pietro barely had enough to ime to take the sight of them in before Romanoff was pulling back and straightening first his uniform and then hers.

“Ready for another brawl?” She asked, her smirk gentler than Pietro had ever seen it. But since he mostly saw her when they were fighting, that wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Barton smirked back, “You know it.”

“Enough chatter,” Rogers broke in, “We’ve got incoming.”

The avengers obediently fell in line, creating a loose grouping within the church.

Pietro was surprised when Barton and Romanoff silently moved to flank he and Wanda, Natasha on Wanda’s right and Barton on his left.

Before he could comment on it, however, Ultron was there and Thor was provoking him. From the way all the Avenger’s collectively sighed, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

“How many times do we have to tell him?” Barton grumbled as they fell back and circled the key to everything. The center of the church that they couldn’t let Ultron reach, “Rule number one…”

“Never say anything that has even a remote chance of jinxing it.” Natasha finished as she twirled her baton.

Pietro blinked, “You have rules?”

“For just about everything,” Clint confessed, as he fit an arrow to his bow, “The team would have long since imploded without them.”

Natasha smirked, “For example, rule number nine: banter all you want, but don’t get distracted.”

As if to prove her point she threw a knife at a bot that had been sneaking up on Pietro.

Pietro took the hint for what it was, and with a hasty salute, sped off to take out as many bots as he could while keeping an eye on the team. Particularly Wanda.

If he kept up with what was going on, he could manipulate things to their advantage as he sped around. Adjust the path of a knife her, move a leg there, it all added up in the end.

He was surprised to find that while there were spots where he could improve the odds, none of the avengers really needed his help.

It was strangely freeing to just be able to focus on taking out as many as possible.

With all of them in one place, it didn’t take long to wade their way through the bots Ultron was throwing at them.

As Ultron retreated, Pietro halted by a pillar and leaned against it. He breathed heavy as he tried to catch his breath and slow his heart down to a normal rate. 

Or well, normal for him. His heart beat was naturally at a faster speed than a normal person.

“Pietro?” Wanda called, moving towards him.

By the time she reached him he’d mostly regained his breath. “I just needed a moment.” He reassured her.

It didn’t work.

“You’ve never tired yourself out this much before,” She reminded him, “It’s okay to sit out for a bit, catch your breath.”

Pietro straightened, “I’m good. I need to do this, Wanda.”

He turned to face her, catching the concerned look in her eyes as she surveyed him. “Okay, but the moment you start to feel exhausted, take a breather.”

“I promise.” He said, reaching out to stroke her cheek with his knuckles. “I’ll be okay, we both will be.”

He said it like the vow it was.

Behind them someone cleared their throat.

Pietro looked over to see Rogers and Barton.

“We need to secure the area, and get the civilians to the life boats. But someone needs to stay and watch here.” Rogers announced looking out over everyone now that the twins were paying attention again.

“I’ll stay.” Wanda volunteered, stepping towards the center of the church and away from Pietro. “It’s my job.”

She looked at Barton then, her gaze expectant. Confused, Pietro followed her gaze to Barton who was looking at Wanda proudly as he nodded his head in acknowledgment.

Wanda must have sensed his confusion, because suddenly he had a new memory in his mind, one that he knew instinctively was Wanda’s not his.

Oh, he thought as he listened secondhand to Barton convincing Wanda to keep fighting.

His respect for the archer went up another notch.

While he’d watched the memory, the rest of avengers had filtered out, leaving him and Wanda alone.

“Go Pietro.” Wanda ordered.

Pietro shook his head, “Not without you.”

Wanda ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, “I can handle it. Go get everyone else off the city and then, and only then, come back for me.”

Pietro wanted to argue, but he recognized the look in Wanda’s eye. And he could see the logic in what she was saying. He’d be able to get civilians on the lifeboat quicker than anybody else. They needed him more out there than here, protecting Wanda.

But he couldn’t leave without one last parting shot, “You know I am 12 minutes older?”

Wanda shook her head with a fond smile, waving him off.

Pietro went.

Clint heaved a sigh of relief as he handed off his gear and stepped onto a lifeboat. He’d made it through another life-harrowing, potentially world ending mission alive.

He’d kept his promise to Laura and he’d be home soon to finish the sun room and then to start tearing apart the dining room for her. He could picture it already, him on his hands and knees working while Nat and Laura sat nearby sipping coffee and teasing him.

It was a good image.

And maybe one he’d never actually live to see, he realized, as he noticed a mom looking frantically for her son.

Looking out over the rubble, it didn’t take long for Clint to spot the boy.

Clint cursed, shoulders drooping for a second in quiet despair.

But like he’d told Wanda, this was his job. And so he hopped off the lifeboat and jogged towards the kid.

Luckily the little boy wasn’t injured and it was short work to convince the kid to come out of his hiding place and into his arms. Maybe he’d still get out of this alive after all.

And apparently, even thinking such things could jinx you, Clint realized as he spotted the quinjet heading towards them. It was firing round after round as it flew over the street the avengers had been clearing.

Clint knew from experience that he wouldn’t be able to reach shelter or the lifeboat in time.

Resigned, he turned his back, intent on using his body to shield the little boy.

And thats when he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye, there was a silver blur.

Suddenly, he had an awful premonition about what was going to happen. And there was no way he was letting it go down that way. No one else was dying today, and certainly not for him.

He had just shifted the kid in his arms so that he could grip him with one arm, when Pietro reached them, trying to push them towards shelter.

Clint used his now free arm to grab Pietro and pull him behind the shelter with them.

It all happened in a blink of an eye.

When the dust had settled Clint groaned from where he'd landed on the ground. He'd put all his weight behind his arm when he'd pulled on Pietro, not wanting to risk the kid not reaching shelter with them.

Beside him the little boy was fine, if a little shaken.

Dreading what he might see, he turned to check on Pietro.

The silver haired kid was sprawled on the ground next to him, eyes closed in pain but thankfully behind the car with them.

Clint let out a relieved breath even as he spotted the source of Pietro's pain. His left leg was shot to hell. Clint winced in sympathy.

"You guys okay?" Cap asked as he skidded to a halt next to them.

Clint passed him the kid, eyes still on Pietro.

"Please tell me you have some bandages on you, Cap?"

Cap always seemed to have extra supplies on him, whether it was weapons or medical supplies, depeneded on the day.

It was a common game among the team to try and figure out where he kept it all.

Steve nodded, fishing around in his pocket. He held out gauze and a compression pad to Clint.

Clint grabbed them, "Sorry kiddo, this is gonna hurt." He said as he used the compression pad to put pressure on the worst of his wounds.

It was a little too close to the femoral artery for comfort.

Pietro arched off the ground with a cry of pain.

Clint didn't let up on the pressure, using some of the gauze to hold it in place before checking the other wounds.

The rest were through and through flesh wounds that weren't life threatening. And to Clint's experienced eyes, they seemed to be healing already.

Sometimes he was incredibly thankful for his teammates healing abilities. Pietro clearly had some sort of accelerated healing, similar to Steve's.

"Wanda..." Pietro called out blearily.

"I'm sure she's on her way," Clint pacified as Rogers returned with a stretcher, having taken the kid back to his mom.

Pietro shook his head. "No... she's angry. She was in my mind when..."

That got Clints attention. Something happening to Pietro would almost certainly set Wanda off.

Especially if she experienced it with him. If she'd known he'd made the decision to sacrifice himself, even if he was okay in the end, Wanda was likely about to do something stupid.

But Pietro was fading in and out from exhaustion or maybe from blood loss.

Clint hated to do it, but he shook the kids shoulder. "Pietro! What about Wanda?"

The kid groaned, head rolling to look at Clint. "She's... going after Ultron."

Clint cursed long and colorfully.

"Clint. We've got to get him to the boats." Cap reminded him.

"Do not worry about Wanda." Vision said across the comms, having listened in on their conversation, "I will retrieve her."

"Thanks Vision." Clint said as he helped get Pietro on the stretcher.

They made short work of getting Pietro on the lifeboat after that.

Once the medics had him, it didn't take long for them to realize that he didn't just run fast. He healed fast too.

They collectively threw up their hands in disgust when his wounds began to heal up in front of their eyes.

Even his worst leg wound was already well on its way to just being a scar.

The biggest thing they could find wrong with him was a mild case of dehydration.

Clint had waved the medic approaching him off, collapsing on one of the benches. Within two minutes Pietro had escaped the medics himself and stretched out on the ground beside him, an I.V. for fluids with him.

Unable to resist physically reassuring himself, Clint let his hand dangle over the edge and rest over Pietro's heart.

He let his eyes fall closed with an exhausted sigh, Pietro's heart beating a reassuring if too fast tempo against his fingers.

Next to him, Pietro laughed breathlessly, "You didn't see that coming?"

Clint's lips twitched helplessly. "Actually I did."

He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he hadn't seen Pietro's telltale silver blur out of the corner of his eye.

They fell into a comfortable silence.

Several moments later there was a quiet thump, and Clint opened his eyes to see Vision setting Wanda down before flying off again.

"Pietro." Wanda breathed, dropping to the ground by his head.

Pietro automatically tried to sit up but Wanda wouldn't let him and pushed him back down. Then she settled down with her back resting on the bench, and laid Pietros head in her lap.

Her fingers moved through his hair, giving it a quick jerk, before gentling.

"You are a fool. A brave fool, but a fool."

Pietro grinned up at her. "I'm your fool."

Wanda let her head fall back on the bench with a huff, tilting her head so that it was resting against Clint's.

Clint let his eyes fall shut again, listening over the comms as everyone checked in.

Everyone had made it out alive. He couldn't ask for more

By the time they were all onboard the helicarrier Pietro was only walking with a slight limp.

Wanda still insisted on helping him walk, and he didn't fight her on it.

The twins were closely following Barton as he led them through the helicarrier's corridors.

They were supposed to meet up with the other Avengers in a private conference room.

Clint kept glancing back, as if to check and make sure they were still there, only relaxing once they stepped into the designated room to find the rest of his team waiting for them, with the conspicuous absence of Banner.

Rogers looked up from where he'd been talking quietly with Tony and waved them in.

"Good, we're all here." He said brightly.

Tony rolled his eyes, "Obviously."

Natasha elbowed him in the ribs, while Steve kept talking like he'd never spoken.

"I just want to say, I was proud to serve with all of you today." He looked over at the twins, "all of you."

The twins shifted nervously, moving closer together.

Barton sighed, "Don't freak them out Rogers," he teased, "We just got them to trust us."

Rogers rolled his eyes but let it drop.

The battle weary avengers milled about the room, some collapsing in the chairs, others remained standing.

"I can't wait to get back," Tony was saying, "I'm gonna steal Pepper from the company and hole up with her for days."

He turned a warning look on Rogers, "At least 48 hours. No world saving antics till after that."

Rogers held up his hands in silent surrender, Natasha snickering beside him.

"That goes double for me." Clint piped up, "Laura won't be letting me off the farm for awhile."

The team laughed.

Meanwhile the twins had drifted to the side, staring out the window.

"Where will we go now?" Wanda asked Pietro quietly.

Going back to Sokovia wasn't really an option anymore.

Pietro opened his mouth, to say something to reassure her though he didn't know what, when Clint was suddenly standing behind them.

He threw an arm around each of their shoulders, pulling them close.

"You're coming home with me of course."

The twins stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What?" Pietro asked, not daring to believe that the archer was offering what he thought he was.

Clint's mouth twisted self-consciosuly. "I mean, it's no where near as nice as Starks tower. It's just a farm. But it's off the grid, lots of open space. Laura and the kids would love the company."

He looked between them, "You could stay for as long as you like. If you... if you want to, that is."

Wanda smiled, leaning into Clint's chest. "We would love to."

Clint sagged in relief, a bright grin on his face as he tugged them closer and dropped a kiss first on Wandas head, then Pietro's.

Pietro grudgingly leaned into the man and allowed the affection, the prospect of having a home again temporarily lowering his defences.

"Good, Laura would have kicked my ass if I came back without you."

Behind them Natasha smirked and held her hand out to Rogers, "Pay up Rogers. I told you he collects strays."

Rogers gave up the cash, but had to get the last word in. "Like you?"

Natasha glared, but softened as she turned to watch the three again.

"Yeah." She agreed quietly, "like me."