Clint Barton: Single Dad
Haircuts
The hair salon was full of people, mostly women, all though Clint wasn't the only man.
If only he weren't the only man kneeling in front of a crying five-year-old, trying desperately to comfort her. "I don't want to be a boy!" she protested loudly. Her long light brown hair was a mess as usual – hence why he was getting it cut. Frankly, Clint was surprised she objected to something she thought would turn her into a boy – she was such a little tomboy. He didn't think she had a single female friend, she liked to play in mud and with trucks, she always said, "No!" to any attempt to get her into a skirt or dress or anything pink, and she stole the uniforms off her brother's GI Joes to put on her Barbies.
"Rory, you know there's another difference," he whispered.
Her twin brother with spiky blond hair piped up, "Yeah, boys have a …"
"She knows, Frankie," Clint cut him off. They used to bathe together when they were toddlers – and even now they weren't exactly shy around each other.
"I don't want to be half-boy!" she self-corrected, still sobbing.
"You won't be half-boy …" He wished the meltdown had happened in the car – he could have pointed out "Uncle Thor" had long hair and "Aunt Janet" had short hair, and maybe that would have convinced her hair length wasn't a primary sex characteristic. As it was, he was surrounded by a lot of people and couldn't risk bringing that up. "Look … we'll get your hair cut in a cute girl style – like the girl that plays Hermione."
"I don't want to look like her. I want to look like Katniss." Even just seeing the trailers for The Hunger Games, Rory had decided Katniss was her role model. Of course, the moms with their kids didn't know she'd just seen the trailer and Clint could practically feel the judgment.
"When you're big enough to do your own hair, you can have long hair. It'll grow back. But Daddy can't do anything with long hair."
"Can you learn?" she asked, wiping away tears.
"Daddy tried," he said with a sigh, thinking of the last two months of twigs and peanut butter caught in hair and Rory saying, "Ow!" every time he encountered a tangle with the brush and sloppy ponytails. "You won't be a boy, or half-boy, I promise. I need you to be brave like Katniss."
"Okay, Daddy," she said calmly, looking resolved, and finally consented to being set in the styling chair.
"So … pixie cut?" the stylist asked, politely ignoring the delay due to meltdown.
"Yeah, that," Clint said, though he had no idea what that actually was.
"No! That's too short!" Rory protested. Well, at least she knew what it was.
"How about chin length – I think your Daddy can manage that," the stylist asked with a smile.
"Okay," Rory said, and then started to cry again.
"Sweetie," Clint said, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice and holding her hand. Her nose started to run and Clint just stopped her from using her hand to wipe it, hurrying to give her a tissue.
"Dad, why is this lady naked?!" Frankie asked in surprise, horror, and just a little pure curiosity, holding up a magazine and holding it open to a particularly risqué perfume advertisement. The angle and her body position were the only things keeping the … other differences between boys and girls out of sight, and even five-year-old Frankie was not fooled. The little boy had asked loudly enough that everyone had looked up at him.
"It must be hot where they took the picture," Clint lied effortlessly and snatched it away with one hand – Rory still had a death grip on his other hand. "Why don't you get out one of the books you brought?" Frankie had insisted on bringing fifteen different coloring books.
"I left them all in the car." Of course he did.
"Why don't you get one of these," the stylist said, setting down her scissors to grab a Junior Highlights magazine, and winked at Clint. No naked ladies selling perfume in this one. "You can play with this one."
"Okay!" Frank said and took it happily.
Rory kept her eyes shut tight the whole time, like she was too terrified to look. "Rory sweetie can you not scrunch up your eyes so much while I cut your bangs? I need to see where your eyebrows are normally," the stylist asked sweetly. Rory unscrunched her eyes just a little bit and the stylist sighed but didn't comment. Clint was going to give her an extra thirty dollars just for being so patient.
"Rory – open your eyes then close them again and don't scrunch," he said firmly. He was usually not that firm with them – that was Bobbi's job. But Rory complied – she knew he meant it.
"Dad this is boring," Frankie said, bringing back the Highlights. "I want to look at the one with the naked ladies again." The stylist put a quick hand to her mouth to hide that she was stifling a laugh and Clint was very aware of all the people staring at his son. Most of them seemed to think it was funny – most of them probably understood he just found that magazine more interesting and that was how he identified it, not that he wanted to look specifically at the naked lady. At least, that's what Clint hoped was the case.
"Just hold on Frankie – I'm almost done with your sister's hair," the stylist told him. "Then it'll be your turn."
"Can I skip it and just get long hair instead?" Frankie asked, excited. Not after your mother named you Francis, Clint thought to himself.
"Boys don't have long hair in this family," Clint said instead, which he realized made him sound even older and more crotchety as soon as he said it.
"That's sexist!" both the twins said at once. There were days he desperately wished Bobbi hadn't taught them that.
"Son – I can't take care of long hair on Rory, it wouldn't turn out any better on you," Clint corrected himself quickly.
"Okay sweetheart, you can open your eyes now," the stylist said, and Clint turned to look at Rory. Thank God – her hair was short, but the style was still feminine and cute. Rory squealed happily.
"I love you!" she told the stylist and turned to give her a big hug.
"Thank you sweetie – I'm glad you like it," the stylist said sweetly as she returned the hug.
"See – you don't look like a boy!" Clint said as he lifted her down. She clung tight to his leg though – still a little traumatized by the close call.
Of course it wasn't just the fear of almost being a boy – for the past two months, she'd taken any excuse to cling to his leg like she was afraid he'd die too if she didn't hold onto him. His sweet little tomboy – it broke his heart to see her trying so desperately to keep what was left of her family safe in her arms, like the whole world rested on her little shoulders. He wanted to tell her that it was going to be okay, that it wasn't up to her to look out for them, but she spoke first. "Do you think Mommy would like it?" He picked her up (with some effort, because the twins were growing up too fast) and kissed her on the end of her nose.
"Yes, sweetheart, I think Mommy would love it." The exchange didn't bring tears, like it normally would have. Just a sad little smile and slightly wet eyes – maybe they'd be okay eventually, even though it sure hadn't felt like it until now.
"Dad! Can I get a Mohawk?!" Frank asked from the chair. Clint sighed – yes they'd be all right. If these kids didn't wear him out.
Author's Note
So I like to put superhero characters in ... not superheroic situations. There's probably something wrong with me.
But I want to do a series of short stories about the idea of Clint Barton (Hawkeye) being a widower and trying to raise his two kids by himself after his wife Bobbi (Mockingbird) is killed in action. (Spoilers: She gets better.) I might do something along those lines with Roy Harper and his adorable daughter Lian as well - single fathers are underrepresented in fiction and provide so many opportunities both for drama and comedy.
The continuity for this is ... heck if I know. I originally started out writing Marvel fanfics thinking I would be very respectful of the current canon ... then realized how complicated it was and how many things I don't like about it and was like, "Screw it I'll follow the MCU." But then I brought in things from the comics I actually like so ... I guess the closest approximation would be the MCU, with this story being set about ten years after the first Avengers movie.
Francis is canon, Rory is my invention. Why did I make them twins? Honestly I forgot - I've been working on stories with the Avengers' kids off and on for over a year now and I don't remember exactly what went into that decision. I do remember I put Rory in so it wouldn't be testosterone overload ... and then proceeded to give Tony and Bruce daughters, brought in Rina (Wolverine's daughter) and May "Mayday" Parker from the MC2 universe and ended up with a mostly female cast anyway.
I made a point to specify that Rory still plays with Barbies but puts the uniforms on them. I always hear people say giving little girls dolls is bad because it forces gender conventions on them and, personally, I think that's bunk. I played with Barbies when I was little despite being the biggest tomboy imaginable (I identify with more conventional femininity more now, but when I was little I associated it with weakness) but my Barbies didn't go on dates or go to parties (except when I played with my cousin, and I was never happy about that). I buried toy dinosaurs in my sandbox and had the Barbies be paleontologists, or had them operate on my stuffed animals because they were veterinarians, or get lost in the woods and have to fight for survival, or fight gangs with the power of roller skating (really). The "girliest" thing they did was be Olympic gymnasts, and anyone who's ever taken gymnastics knows that is one TOUGH sport. The way little girls play with dolls reflects their own self-image/what they've already been taught about gender roles, rather than the girls ending up reflecting the dolls, which is why I support Barbie over some other lines because of the wide variety of playsets and clothes which give little girls considerable opportunities to shape their doll into their own image, and huzzah to Mattel for recent efforts to make their ethnic dolls actually reflect reality so every little girl can find one that looks like her. Multiple body types next, Mattel? Maybe? OK - getting off my soapbox now.
So anyway, my idea is that Rory identifies with the female Barbies, but wants them to go on the same kinds of adventures as her brother's GI Joes, being a budding action girl raised by two superheroes, but since that's one of the few playsets no one's actually made for Barbie yet (so far as I know), she has to resort to stealing the clothes off her brother's dolls. (Yes, GI Joes are dolls, guys. Sorry.)
