Disclaimer: I own nothing ... as always :(
Authors Note: I'm sorry it's taken so long to post this, but as you will be able to tell I got carried away again lol This was supposed to be the first in a series of one shots but alas, my mind was on overdrive and this ended up an epic 24,000 words *sigh* So I have separated this into seven chapters and will hopefully post one each day to keep you all going :)
For those who haven't read Sanctuary, you can still read this one on it's own but it will refer to things that happened in the other story. A quick recap - Clint was living on the streets and eventually came face to face with Agent Phil Coulson. Phil adopted Clint and has been trying to help the youngster through all the trauma's he'd suffered before they met and some that happened after. Taking a lot of time and patience, Phil has managed to gain the kid's trust and unwavering loyalty.
Summary - It has been over two years since Phil became Clint's guardian, over three years since he saw his family. Now with Clint's fourteenth birthday approaching he has been unable to avoid the inevitable visit. Phil's family are coming to stay... maybe, just maybe a disaster could strike. One can only hope!
A huge thank you to DevinBourdain, my awesome beta! You help me out so much, and always give me a nudge in the right direction. :)
So enough of my ramblings, enjoy!
Clint blinked awake slowly, his brain taking a few seconds to process the familiar images in front of him. A genuine smile spread across his young face as he realised he was still here, still with Phil; home. He knew it was stupid that even after all this time he still felt he might wake up and find it was all a dream; nothing this good had ever happened to him, nor had he ever expected it to.
Throwing the covers off, he sat on the edge of the bed while running a hand through his short blonde hair. He was still getting used to the shortness, having as he'd only got it cut a few days ago. Phil wanted him to look his best. Clint could tell the older man was nervous, hell he was nervous. It was the first time the youngster was going to meet Phil's family, well most of them. One of Phil's sisters couldn't get the time off from work but had promised to come visit when she could.
The older man had also taken the time to explain his reasons for keeping his family away for so long, needing to make Clint aware that while he'd thought it was in the boy's best interests to hold off on the meeting, Phil realised that he wasn't being entirely truthful with himself. Barton had been in a bad place in the beginning, his constant nightmares and trust issues were a very serious cause for concern. The teen was doing a lot better now. The older man had used the teenager's issues as his own selfish reasons not to invite his family, instead of admitting the real reason. Phil was afraid. For all the times he tried to make Clint believe that he was worthy of Phil's love and protection, the agent still had a voice in the back of his head telling him he was unworthy to be Clint's dad.
That alone had caught Clint off guard. He'd never heard Phil admit to being scared of anything before. It immediately put the teen on edge. If the agent was afraid then whatever it was, must be very bad. The agent went on to explain that even though he knew Clint was ready months ago, had even asked the older man when he would get to meet them, it was Coulson that wasn't ready to face them. Feeling that his parents and his sisters would try to dissuade him from adopting the teen who had major issues, they had kept on at him about settling down and having kids of his own. His mind twisted those words, making him question whether they'd accept Clint as he wasn't his own flesh and blood, or treat him unfairly. Or that they'd tell him he wasn't good enough for the boy. What did he know about raising children? Clint had felt hurt at the implication, angry that they'd think Phil wasn't good enough and ashamed that the agent was choosing him over his own family. Coulson softly reminded him that he was his family now.
It took a phone call from the agent's mom to set things straight. She told Phil not to be such an idiot, that they would never have thought he wasn't good enough or that he shouldn't be Clint's dad. The kid needed someone he could trust, could depend on and be patient with him. Her son was the best man for the job. Phil had simply let his own fears and insecurities take over, instead of listening to his heart, which would have told him his family would be proud of him, that they'd back his decision, whatever that may be.
Barton smirked when he thought back on that day, seeing the nervous, slightly flustered agent apologising profusely for even thinking those things. Clint had heard her raised voice over the phone as she reprimanded her son, making the older man blush at some of the words used. The teenager was certain he'd get along with Marie Coulson, the woman reminded him of Molly. Her no nonsense attitude and ability to threaten over the phone, made him smile in amusement. Not many people could do that. He couldn't wait to meet her, or the rest of the family. He'd kept the letters and drawings he received from Phil's youngest nephew Tommy, in his side cabinet in his room. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was still early. They'd be here about lunch time, supposedly, depending on traffic, Phil had said.
The purpose of their visit was what had Clint smiling brightly. It was his birthday today, his fourteenth and he was excited. It was hard to imagine that just over two years ago Clint didn't want the reminder of his special day. Didn't feel the need to celebrate, what was the point? He had nothing good in his life. Another birthday was just the marker of another horrid year coming to a close and the start of the next nightmare he'd be forced to survive.
Until that one fateful day, Clint had thought he'd lost what little possessions he had left in the world in a fire that burned down the old building he'd been staying in. He'd ended up walking for miles until he reached a nice neighbourhood and in the process came face to face with Phil Coulson; the man who would save him, who cared for him, and quickly became the most important person in his young life: his new dad.
Clint flopped back on the bed with a grin. He couldn't believe two years had passed already, the bond between himself and the agent was unwavering. They were closer than ever and the teen was pretty sure he was the only one who got to see the relaxed, carefree, sarcastic side to Phil. It made him feel special.
"Clint?" Phil's voice drifted upstairs. "You awake?"
The fourteen year old sprang from the bed, grabbing various articles of clothing from around his room. He'd admit he was a little messier now than he was previously. He was sure it had something to do with Phil's constant need for cleanliness. This was his way of acting out, just a little. He enjoyed pushing Phil's buttons on the odd occasion.
"Clint?"
"I'm up, just getting dressed," he called back, pulling a clean t-shirt on then grabbing his favourite jeans. Once he was ready he made his way quickly down stairs, entering the kitchen with a smirk on his face.
Phil was making breakfast, while cleaning the counter again. The older man granted him a warm smile and threw down the cloth, drying his hands before pulling Clint into a hug.
"Happy birthday, Clint."
Barton smiled against Phil's chest, then pulled back. "Thanks," he said quietly, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. He wasn't sure how Coulson did it, but there were certain ways he spoke that sent a warm feeling through the teen. It was like a shot of pride, happiness and love all rolled into one. Clint still had trouble accepting it sometimes.
Phil squeezed the teen's shoulder, smiling at how easily he could still get to Clint, before making his way back to the kitchen. Grabbing the cloth he got back to work on scrubbing. He wasn't sure why he was being so over the top with his cleaning, probably something to do with the fact he hadn't seen his mom, and dad, sisters or their kids for over two years. His busy schedule at SHIELD didn't leave much time for visits, and if Phil was completely honest with himself, he tried to avoid it. The constant nagging from his sisters and on occasion, his mother about settling down and having kids of his own was the usual topic of discussion.
Over the past two years he'd focussed everything he had on helping Clint, getting him through the horrors he'd been subjected to. He didn't want the kid, who was already in a very fragile emotional state, to be put through the prospect of dealing with Phil's family. The agent knew that even now, Clint preferred small groups, in small doses. He still didn't like loud noises or people arguing but the kid was getting better, which was why the agent had agreed to ask them to stay the weekend. Phil was the youngest of three sisters, who were married with children. Even though he knew deep down that his mom wished he'd settle down, have a few kids of his own. The older woman had practically screamed down the phone in delight when he told her he'd adopted Clint. She'd wanted to visit right away, but after explaining the situation, how fragile Clint was, he'd managed to convince her to back off for the time being until the youngster was ready. He'd been bribed into sending her pictures of Barton, just to keep her happy. Phil wasn't scared about them not accepting Clint, especially after his recent phone call with the older woman, it was clear to him now they already had. Unfortunately the feeling of being constantly compared with how well his sisters were doing, weighed heavily on the agent's mind.
Clint had tried to hide it but he was nervous about meeting Phil's relatives, these were the people who raised the man who'd saved him, they'd moulded him into the man he'd become. Barton wasn't sure what they'd make of him, would they like him or hate him for keeping their son away for so long? He was finding it odd that now it seemed like Coulson was the one panicking, maybe he should offer him the silver hawk he still kept on him at all times; it was his most precious possession apart from his bow. Phil had gave him the small hawk for his twelfth birthday, as a way to help with his anxiety attacks.
"You know if you clean that anymore, you're going to wipe away the pattern on the countertop?" Clint grinned.
Phil grimaced when he glanced at his hand, it was looking a little red from scrubbing so hard. "I just want the place to look good," Phil told the teen, throwing the cloth into the sink.
Clint gave him an incredulous look. "The place is sparkling Phil. I may even need to wear sunglasses the glare is so bright."
Phil rolled his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from the teen's voice. "Yeah, yeah. Smartass," he replied, shaking his head.
Clint ducked under the hand that was aiming for his head with a chuckle.
"You'll have to move faster than that, old man," he mocked.
Phil gave him a half-hearted glare. Waiting until the kid turned to the stove to keep an eye on the food, then attempted to flick the boy's ear. He missed by a breath, Clint had already twisted down and away, the spatula in his hand was aimed for the side of the agent's head. Coulson blocked it before it could connect and once again tried to flick the teen's ear.
Barton was smirking as he gripped Phil's hand and twisted it up behind the agents back.
"I give, I give," laughed the older man, while rubbing his shoulder.
Clint pointed a finger at him accusingly. "You should know better, Phil."
"Sorry," he chuckled. "Come on, let's get breakfast then you can help me set up the guest rooms."
"Okay." Clint nodded, still smiling.
Both sat quietly at the table, enjoying their breakfast and the silence that was soon to be disturbed. 'The calm before the storm', as it were. Once they'd finished eating, and cleaned away their dishes, they headed upstairs. It took them almost an hour to get the rooms ready, well, to the point where Clint told Phil for the hundredth time that the room was fine, that it was immaculate even by Phil's standards, a drill sergeant would be hard pressed to find something to nit-pick over. The older man nodded, running a hand through his hair in a nervous fashion. Clint had seen him do this numerous times, usually when he was worried about the teen.
"Are you alright Phil?" he asked softly.
Coulson slumped on to the edge of the bed with a sigh. How could he explain to Clint the inadequate feeling he usually felt when confronted by his sisters? He wasn't sure he even fully understood it himself.
"Phil?" Clint questioned, concern shining in those expressive blue eyes.
"I'm okay, kid. My sisters just have this way of making me feel inadequate. Like you'd probably be better off with someone more qualified with kids and any problems you might have from before," he explained quietly.
When Clint didn't respond the older man looked up, shocked to see the boy shaking in what looked like anger.
"Clint, what's wrong?"
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me Phil, and if they even think of saying anything like that to you, then I'm sorry, even if they are your family they will get shown to the door." Clint stood stiffly in front of the agent, mentally kicking himself for saying how he really felt and hoping that he hadn't went too far. He never wanted to see Phil angry with him. He was surprised when Phil stood and pulled him into a warm embrace. Could tell the man was smiling without even looking at him when Phil spoke calmly. "I love you, son."
Barton pulled back with a grin. "Love you too, dad."
"Thanks kid." Phil smiled, shaking his head at the fact the teen was giving him advice; it was usually the other way around.
Both made their way down stairs to wait for the impending arrival. Phil grinned to himself, he should have known better. It didn't matter what his family thought, the one person whose opinion mattered the most was right in front of him. Nothing else mattered.