Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, I just play in their sandbox.
A/N: There are triggery elements, dealing with severe child abuse and PTSD, as well as canon violence.
Baby, The Stars Shine Bright
Packing up the lone box of things and setting it in the trunk, however, was the saddest thing Clint had ever done in a long lifetime of sad things. He claimed the battered booster seat from her stone-faced grandparents and strapped her in, making sure that her bunny was right where it needed to be. She was quiet in her little denim jumper and soft shoes, hair up in cute pigtails. She'd spent the last night in his motel room, curled up on the second bed while he watched, cleaning his bow and standing guard through the night. He could sleep later; for now, he helped her find clothes that fit her, shoes that weren't too tight, and an actual bath, rather than the half-showers she'd had to take before.
That first night was pretty damned rough for both of them.
Clint had pulled the battered little photo album out of his suitcase once he'd gotten her back to his motel, and sat on the bed with the TV on the news, telling her about the circus all those long years before. He showed her the grainy, crappy photos he'd managed to take with an old Kodak instant of Nina atop her beloved gelding, and smoothed back Emma's hair when she asked about the stunts she would perform, and with a soft smile, he got up from the bed, reenacting all the ones he could remember. He tossed himself in somersaults all around the room, grinning at her giggles and loving the way her eyes lit up.
Bathtime had been...interesting. He'd kept his eyes averted as he helped her get undressed, and laughed when she'd splashed him in retaliation. There were a few scars...a few things he knew he'd need to ask about later, but for now... He'd washed her hair out carefully, rebraiding it in a single french braid down her back, and gotten her into the fluffy pajamas he'd picked up a few hours before, then tucked her into bed. Lullabies weren't ever something he'd been used to as a child, but he knew a few, a few he'd sung to Natasha years ago. And so he hummed and sang and made up pretty words to soothe his Emma, and before too long, she was fast asleep...and he was at peace for a little longer.
The second day, they spent at the lawyer's office as Clint signed document after document to regain custody of his daughter, and dealing with the outcome of Nina's will. He'd kept Emma close; Nina's older brother and parents sat on the other side of the room, and the glares were positively glacial. Thankfully, that little girl had a hell of a sense of preservation; she only called his attention once, and that was to ask for him to escort her to the bathroom. He waited outside the door for her, texting Phil all the while, and after a few more hours of signing, reading, and being silently cursed into eternity, they retreated to one of the little diners downtown, her legs dangling off the chair, much to his amusement.
"Papa?" He glanced over his menu over at where she was coloring on the children's menu; Bunny was right next to her, and a purple crayon in her hand, her eyes on his.
"Yeah, baby?"
"...Grandmother was really mad."
"...Your grandmother didn't deserve you, sweetheart. None of them did. And...I'm sorry you went through that." Her eyes ducked, and he laid his menu down, taking both her hands. "I mean it. I...read about what was done."
"Mama couldn't say anything; no one believed her." He winced, slightly, and held her hands a little tighter.
"...I know how that goes, honey. And someday I'll tell you...but right now, I want you to be happy. Okay?" Her shy smile made him react in kind, and he leaned down to kiss the backs of her hands, eyes crinkling. "I promise."
"Okay, Papa...can I have the mac 'n cheese?"
"Of course..."
They were homebound as soon as dawn broke; Clint had no desire to keep her here any longer. A stop at the lawyer's office to pick up the last set of papers, a quick run by the gas station, and they were high-tailing it out of town, heading straight back to New York...and to the Avengers. Phil called about halfway through the trip, and Clint put him on speakerphone, smiling as Emma started in immediately with the questions.
"Mr. Phil, are you Papa's boss?"
"Something like that, sweeting. Are you excited?"
"Yes! Papa told me about Captain America and Iron Man and the Hulk! And Thor and Black Widow and all the agents!" Clint could almost feel the grin on Phil's face, and it made him feel pretty damned happy too. It wasn't often that the older man allowed even a hint of his amusement to show, but with children...well, everyone had a little weak spot.
"That's excellent, darling...We'll have a whole room laid out for you, alright? Tony already has a whole lot of toys picked out for you." She squeaked a little, eyes going wide again, as they had so many times now, and Clint chuckled, setting the cruise back to sixty-five to avoid the crazier drivers.
"Lots of toys?!"
"Lots of toys, dearheart. We want you to be happy here...it's been a long time since most of us have been near a child, and so, we might be a little odd...but we want the best for you." Ah, she was blushing, and he grinned, chuckling all the while.
"Alright, Phil, I'm gonna let you go, okay? We'll be in town in about an hour..."
"I'll be waiting for you. Director Fury has tabled your other work for the time being; nothing's time intensive and you'll need to take care of all the other legal matters before we can let you back onto the field."
"Fair enough. I take it we have a welcoming committee?"
"Myself, Stark, and Captain Rogers. And Dummy." Clint just laughed.
"Bye, Coulson."
"Good-bye, Barton." He turned off his smartphone and glanced back in his rearview mirror, eyes dancing at her glowing smile. Emma's face was transfigured when she was happy, becoming her mother's daughter in one turn of the glass. That was a look he cherished, and he turned his eyes back to the road, feeling warm inside.
New York City, New York. They hit the streets just before lunch, and with all the skill of a Brooklyn cabbie, he slipped into the underground parking complex of Stark Tower, easing out of the sedan with a crack of his neck and a groan.
"Hey, Barton." He grinned at Tony's familiar welcome and turned to pull open the back passenger door, slipping the buckles off of a sleepy little girl and scooping her up, wrapping the worn little blanket around her limp form. Tony only raised an eyebrow and moved forward, helping Cap get the luggage out of the trunk while giving Clint the once over. "You look like shit."
"No language, Stark." He blinked.
"You're serious."
"Very."
"You swear more than I do!"
"And I'm amending that. So knock it off...she's had a rough week so far." It was Steve who nodded now, and he carried Clint's shoulder bag with ease.
"How is she holding up?" He took a deep breath, heading to the elevator, where Phil and Dummy were clearly arguing over paperwork, and gave the soldier a sigh.
"...Not that great, despite all outward appearances. She's lost her mom, her dad, and her grandparents just want to farm her out for her inheritance." Steve winced at that, and Clint only shrugged with his free shoulder, careful not to dislodge his daughter. "She's heartbroken and lonely and for all her excitement, she cried most of last night, though she tried to hide it from me. And she's still a baby, and she has to deal with all this...I'm going to court sometime in the next month to finalize the custody agreements. Otherwise, her grandmother and grandfather get her, and I'll break SHIELD regs and disappear the two of them before I let that happen." Steve looked startled, and Clint stopped halfway across the garage, eyes dangerous.
"I mean it."
"I'll help." Coulson's voice was just as calm and cool as normal, but the edge was there, and Clint's lips kicked up on the side. "I've got her bed ready and put together."
"Thanks, she's been out for about an hour, and maybe another one or so before she needs to wake up. Coulson, can you...?"
"Already done. Get her to bed, we'll get the things into your apartment." Clint chuckled softly and slipped into the elevator, Dummy waving tentatively behind them as Phil, Steve, and Tony followed. The trip up was blissfully quiet; not for the first time, the archer was thankful that Jarvis tended to be the silent, watchful type, and Tony was too busy analyzing everything, while Steve and Phil were too respectful to interrupt his little girl's nap. So when they disembarked on his floor, Phil had the door open and ready and Clint just ghosted in, one hand coming up to cup the back of Emma's head as he made a beeline to her new bedroom and swung her down, only a little unpracticed. Tucking her under the covers, Clint made sure that her nightlight was on, and Bunny was close, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, kneeling next to her small bed.
"...You know, baby, I never, ever thought you'd come into my life...I always thought it'd be your mom who'd have the talk with Coulson, the grieving...the pain. So, I'm probably gonna screw up, but...I love you. I've loved you from the moment I first saw you in that black and white photo, still in your mama's belly, and I didn't give you up because I wanted to...I gave you up because I wanted you to have the best life in the world. And...maybe that was a mistake." He rubbed watery eyes with the heel of one hand, throat suddenly tight. "...I'm so sorry, Emma. But I promise...I promise, this will never happen again. On my life, I swear it." He kissed her again, stroking shaky fingers over her braids, and slipped out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Out in the living room, Tony was nowhere to be seen, and Coulson was just leaving, tossing a wave in Clint's direction as he stepped out. Clint replied in kind, and stepped into the kitchen to survey what he had available. Steve followed him, big hands holding a small mug as delicately as any teacup.
"Still fast asleep?" Clint smiled as he started pulling down the fixings for burgers and hotdogs, figuring that they'd take long enough and could sit warm without too much of a problem.
"She's out cold still. Bruce coming down to peek in at her?"
"Probably in a few hours. He was in the labs when you called."
"...And Natasha?" Steve sighed, one huge hand rubbing his neck, and Clint braced himself.
"...She requested a mission as soon as she found out. She's...not really happy about this."
"Yeah, I knew she was opposed, but..."
"Right now, your daughter is more important."
"...They're both important, but I can't in good conscience leave her alone." Steve nodded, and helped him fold the hamburger patties, both men at ease in the kitchen. "And to be honest, Natasha can and will take care of herself. Em can't."
"She's so little for her age..."
"Takes after me. I was a runt." Steve's lips kicked up and Clint flashed him a grin. "We runts gotta stick together, eh, Rogers?" Steve's body shook with silent laughter, and Clint nudged him with his shoulder, chortling.
"Yeah, yeah...we do, don't we? Well, if it makes you feel better, the Director is likely to spoil her rotten. He's already brought in a small fortune in toys and clothes for her." He laughed a little and slapped down his patties, turning to wash his hands.
"I noticed. And she will too when she wakes up. I take it Tony's already set up her college fund?"
"He did that yesterday. He's actually a little excited about all of this, and Pepper and Rhodey are too. To be honest, Natasha's the only one who isn't."
"Yeah...and I do know why, but I can't say. I'll talk to her when she comes back, just me and her, and see if maybe she'll at least talk it out. Because I am not giving up my daughter, team dynamics be damned. I'll move out and work a desk job if I have to." He murmured, drying his hands on the towel. Steve's reply was simple, and more than a little surprising.
"I know, Clint. That's why I'll intercede if I must. I want us to stay a team, but at the same time, I'm not going to let an innocent child be left on her own, especially to abusive family. Do you need witnesses in court?" Clint nodded, his face going serious. That would be the hardest part; they'd be bringing lawyers and character witnesses, and Clint...well, Clint had Roz in legal and Phil Coulson. And the abuse allegations; he'd debated for a long, long moment last night as to whether he wanted to bring them to light. He'd gone with a 'yes', because in the end, his daughter was not going to suffer the same way he had. And Clint refused to let those cowards hide behind their money any longer.
"That'd be appreciated, Cap. We're going to use the abuse reports in our favor..."
"Good. Because if I'd have been in your position when I'd found out, I would have put a shield through someone's head." The sharpness in his voice made Clint sigh, and Steve hunched his shoulders a little, blue eyes a little darker than normal. "I mean it..."
"Mmm, but I pride myself in my ability to make revenge an absolute bitch. And this...this will destroy their reputation, and so much more. And she'll be safe."
"And she'll have a family." Clint glanced up at the super soldier, eyes softening at the lost look in the older man's eyes.
"She will. Okay with being Uncle Steve?" The smile he got in return was almost blinding, and Clint stifled his laughter. "Alright, Uncle Steve, you're in charge of the hot dogs, I'm going to go hunt down buns in the main kitchen." As he headed out to the elevator, Steve caught his elbow.
"You're a good man, Clint Barton." He paused, searching his eyes for a long moment.
"...Not yet, Rogers. But I will be. I will be."
"You sure that's the mark?"
"Were I not sure, you would not be here, my dear mortal. Have you any qualms as to your job?"
"...No."
"Good. I will expect you in three days, upon my prior arrangement. For now, surveillance is what I desire."
"Fine, see ya..." One pale hand closed over the other man's elbow, and glowing green eyes bore into sullen blue.
"Do not disappoint me. I have spent far too long imprisoned to allow you to squander my chances. You will do this, and you will be paid handsomely." The burly man snorted, roughly, and shook the god off.
"Whatever."
"Three days, Barton. Three days." As the other archer stalked off, Loki's eyes narrowed, dangerous, and he summoned a small globe, staring into it with an unnatural intensity at the man puttering around his kitchen, laughing silently at the little girl kicking her feet against her chair. She was too obviously his child, and Loki swallowed the bitter rise of annoyance, curious as to how the younger Barton had kept her so hidden, even from Loki's connection to him. That was not something he was used to, and Loki did not do well with things he wasn't used to. But with the elder brother watching, and his own magic, he might be able to find a way...he smiled, faintly, and opened a slim doorway into the darkness between worlds. "You will be mine, Clinton. Mine, once and forever more..."
