Title: Second Chance

Chapter: 4

Author: SomethingIDontknow

Rating: M (For the kink loving use of mpreg (Male pregnancy).)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers, they belong to Marvel

Author's Note: No Beta-ing here, because I'm impatient. I don't know how slow this is gonna be, cause I'm a great combination of lazy and slow. Review, please? You've all given me so much already and I've so little to give in return, but I'll do my best.

When his boots touched solid ground again, Clint sank straight down to it. There were very few things that could throw Clint, or his stomach, for a loop, but apparently magical space travel was one of them. As he retched violently, he wondered why traveling with Thor hadn't made him so sick.

"I'm so sorry, love." He could feel Loki crouch beside him, feel a cool hand moving over his forehead, feathering his hair a moment before the air was rent by a thunderous /crack/.

Loki's hand whipped away and there was the too familiar sound of repulsors firing.

Still down on hands and knees, head bowed, Clint could only see a flash of light and hear Loki's soft grunt as the blast ricocheted off of something. Clint managed to look up as heavy footsteps approached.

"Clint?" the voice coming from the Iron Man suit was heavily modified and robotic.

"Hey, Tony." Clint managed a weak smile before heaving once more. Though he considered it again at the sound of the Quintjet landing nearby, followed immediately by bullets impacting, refracting, and zooming off into the dark. "Everybody, stop!" Clint hauled himself to his feet, spitting into the sandy ground before wiping his mouth.

Loki stood beside him, arms outstretched and lips pressed thin. A thin, greenish veil of magic created a bubble around them. A shield. Loki's fingers were trembling and he looked impossibly pale. He found it in him, however, to offer Clint a rueful smile. When Clint looked around, he found they were surrounded by The Avengers team.

"Clint?" Natasha asked, her handguns trained carefully on Loki.

"It's me, Tasha." Clint held out his hands, palms out, "Just put the guns down, please, Tasha." She hesitated, searching his face. "Tasha, please, it's me, he's not doing this." Clint pressed his hand flat against the barrier between them, "I'll explain everything, just please, everyone, put down your weapons." He looked around the group, pausing to implore Steve. "Can't you see he's not well?"

Steve turned his attention back to Loki, first and foremost as a threat. But Loki wavered, his knees nearly gave out and the glittering barrier fizzled. Steve's alarm was instant. "Stand down."

Clint turned back to Loki, trusting his team to obey. "Let it go, Loki, they won't hurt us." Loki's eyes were dim, his breathing was ragged and uneven. Clint stepped up to him, slipping his arms around the slender man. It took several seconds of tense trembling, but he collapsed into Clint, holding tight to his shoulders for support. The barrier glittered brightly, disintegrating to dust around them.

"What's going on with him?" That was Bruce, hopping off the jet.

"He-" Clint cut himself off as Loki clutched tight to him, suddenly. He shook his head minutely, panic in his softly whispered, "no."

"He's exhausted." Clint corrected, "The gate we used to get back wiped him out."

"Bring him here," Bruce called, leaning into the jet to drag out a first aid bag.

Looking around at his team, Clint gathered Loki to his chest and helped him walk toward the jet. Loki tucked tight against him and kept his head down, sitting on the edge of the jet's open bay.

Bruce began fussing over him, popping opening a space blanket when he found Loki's temperature low. Holding the shiny silver blanket around his shoulders, Loki shooed Clint, gesturing to the group all standing around, staring. Able to easily pick out the distrust in their faces, Clint was acutely aware of how much he wished his sight wasn't quite so sharp. Bracing himself, Clint leaned in and kissed Loki gently, shutting his eyes against the evening light and four scrutinizing stares. Loki sighed, pulling back carefully. "Go on." He whispered. Clint smiled and gave Bruce a nod before turning to face the others.

"Well that explained a lot." Tony smirked, Iron Man's faceplate pulled back.

"I wish I could tell you it's not how it looks." Clint scrubbed a hand over his face and cocked his hip as he faced them, "But It's pretty much exactly how it looks."

"How can we be sure he's not... You know... Behind this?" Steve looked embarrassed to even ask, but his jaw was set the way it was just before he plunged headlong into a war zone, all determination and intent. He would have the truth.

"He-"

"He's not." everyone turned to Natasha, who was staring intently Clint. "His eyes are clear, he's not clinging or tracking, not lying." She nodded to Steve, "He's clear."

Steve turned back to Clint, who pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply before speaking, "Steve, this is so serious... I'll explain better once we're at the Tower."

"Who says I want him in my Tower?" Tony crossed his arms as best he could in the suit, "This man- god- thing, threw me out the window of the aforementioned Tower, which, I would like to point out again, is, in fact, mine."

"Tony, It think we should-"

"He's pregnant, goddammit!" Clint snapped, interrupting Steve's no doubt drawn out but thorough rationality, they didn't have time, "He's fucking pregnant, and the baby is mine."

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Tony's gob-smacked expression might have been hilarious. "I'm very aware of what happened before, I also remember it very clearly. Believe it or not, I trust him. Maybe he had the wrong way of going about it the first time, but he's just as hurt and tired as any of us." Clint rocked back onto his heels, the weight of everything they were facing settling over him suddenly. He was very tired. "Please, just... Let's go back, talk about this unarmed." He looked around the little group and felt something in his chest tighten. "I need you behind me on this." He said softly, "You'll have all the answers we can provide, but I need you with me. You're my team. We've stood together against Armageddon, and I trust you the way I trust my own hands. If you aren't..." The thing in his chest clenched violently at the thought. "Then I don't think I'll be strong enough."

Tony was very pointedly not looking at him, but Steve and Natasha both nodded resolutely. "Let's head back." Steve called, walking back to the jet.

Tony snapped down Iron Man's faceplate and took off without a word. Clint sighed, but felt a little better as he turned back to the jet. A small hand on his arm stopped him.

"As long as you can accept the fact that I'll kill him if he hurts you, you'll have me on your side." Natasha said softly in Russian.

Clint laughed, the first real laugh since this entire mess had begun. "I really do trust him, you know." he said back, his Russian a lot less natural, "But thank you, I cant tell you how much it means."

He held out one arm, offering a friendly hug. She looked at him hard and wrapped both arms around him, squeezing tight a moment. "You're my whole family, Clint." She whispered, still in Russian, "Just know that. And make sure he knows that."

"I do. I will." Clint whispered back.

They parted and Natasha hopped into the jet, taking the pilot's seat. Clint hopped up and shut the bay doors. Loki sniffled as Clint sat beside him on the bench and leaned into him with a tired sigh. Putting his arms around Loki, Clint looked up to find Steve looking at him.

Steve said nothing, just observing, for the moment. He looked down to Loki, already sleep, and Clint thought he caught the bare edge of a smile.

Bruce was playing with a computer toward the front of the jet. He was pulling a small something out of a drawer and typing and he turned to Clint to hold out a clip on finger tip monitor. "It'll start recording his vitals" He explained, "Just to make sure he doesn't do anything unusual." Bruce smiled. "I'm no expert of Asgardian physiology, but it's a start."

"Thank you." Loki barely stirred as Clint clipped it on his index finger. "For helping us. And being so calm about this, especially." Clint added softly.

Bruce shrugged, "Freaking out would have solved nothing. And I am still a doctor. I help people. Even if they tried to conquer the earth last time we met." His small smile was only a little strained.

Clint could understand why.