I'm not dead! :)

Thank you to Ashley and Kate for proof-reading this :) Much love ladies :) xx

TRIGGER WARNINGS IN THIS CHAPTER.

Chapter Seven: Your Focus Determines Your Reality

"That's not enough!" Jacques shouted at Clint, bringing the whip down on the ten-year-old's back, making Clint cry out at the sudden pain. "I am looking for perfection, Barton, not some half-assed piece of crap. I took you and your brother in. I need something in return for it. And so far? Not good enough."

Clint stood up and notched the arrow again, focusing on the bullseye. In, out, just like Buck had instructed him. Hand beside his cheek, fingers against his mouth, wrist facing inwards. On the exhale, let go. The arrow sailed better this time, hitting the edge of the bullseye.

"Better," Buck called out before Jacques could hit the boy. "Work on your speed, boy. You must be quicker with each shot."

Clint looked at the older archer and nodded, mindful of his mentor silently fuming behind him. "The bow is too heavy," the ten-year-old complained, making Buck raise an eyebrow. "It doesn't balance for me."

Buck stepped forward and instructed Clint to step back into hold. Clint did as he was told, notching a new arrow, mindful not to drop it again and to go quicker than the last time; he didn't want another kick to the back of his knees or a punch to the ribs and stomach. Buck adjusted Clint's right arm so his elbow was in line with his shoulder before pushing down on his left shoulder. "That feel better?" Buck asked, stepping back to look at the boy's posture before realising the bow was, indeed, a bit too big for the kid.

Clint found the new posture was better but still felt off balance. "Yes, sir," he half-lied.

"Try again," Buck ordered.

Clint focused on the bullseye and let out a breath, releasing the arrow. It landed in the bullseye, millimetres from the dead centre.

Jacques looked impressed, turning to face Buck. "Is he good enough?" he asked, making Clint pause, not wanting to hear Buck's answer if it was negative.

Buck looked back at Clint before returning his gaze to Jacques. "Leave him with me. I'll make him into your best act," he replied.

Jacques nodded before leaving, muttering something about getting the rest of the group ready for tonight's performance.

Clint laid his bow down carefully on the table before moving to collect the arrows. Buck watched him, arms folded over his chest as he eyed the boy's movements; Clint was limping, favouring his left side. He kept his head down as he returned to the bench.

"What next, Sir?" Clint asked, pocketing the arrows back into the quiver.

"Sit down," Buck ordered, taking a seat in front of the bench. Clint did as he was told, sitting beside the older archer. "I'm going to be frank with you, boy. You need to be more distant with the rest of the circus. You and your training will need it. You're afraid to be touched; use that as your excuse. Until you are the best, you can't let anyone distract you. Not even your brother."

Clint frowned but nodded. "Yes, Sir," he answered, willing to do anything to be better than he was at the moment.

"Your focus determines your reality, boy," Buck continued, making the ten-year-old look at him. "I've noticed that you get distracted easily. That needs to change. You need to focus solely on your target while knowing everything around you. If you don't, I can't teach you and that means that you and your brother will be back out on the streets. So you got to work with me. Got it?"

Clint nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Buck nodded. "Now… Let's make you a new bow. Handmade are always better as long as you have the proper materials," he started, standing up and leading the boy out of the tent.


Natasha sat up when she felt her husband tossing and turning in the bed beside her. She gently moved back down, moving to her side and gently placing her hand on his chest. His heart hammered against the palm of her hand. She pressed her lips to his shoulder, waiting for him to wake up on his own.

She didn't have to wait long. Clint sat up, breathing heavily as he gazed unfocused at the far wall. She gently lay down beside him, waiting for him to lie back down; she knew if she touched him, he would most likely attack her before realising that it was her.

He, eventually, lay back down on the bed, finding her hand with his own. "Sorry," he whispered as she moved her head to the crook of his neck.

"It's okay," she replied, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of his neck. "Want to talk about it?"

Clint pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her and the vanilla/lavender shampoo she used earlier. "It was the first time I used a bow under Buck's guidance," he whispered, wrapping one arm around her waist as she moved to blanket his body with her own, one leg between his. "Every time I went too slow, Chisholm punched me. Every time I dropped an arrow, Chisholm kicked me. When I didn't hit the centre, Duquesne used a whip on my back or used the cigarettes to burn my arm. Sometimes, my chest. The pain made it more difficult… But I eventually learned how to make them stop by becoming better. I became better than they expected me to."

Natasha pressed another kiss to his skin, frowning as he spoke. She moved to straddle him, resting her forehead against his. "You're not there anymore, Yastreb," she whispered, making sure he focused on her. "You are not the criminal they tried to make you."

He leaned up and kissed her deeply, unable to put what he wanted to say into words. She moaned in surprise but kissed back, bringing one hand to cup the back of his head. Clint sat up, pulling her tight against him as he deepened the kiss. He fisted her shirt in his left hand, his right hand coming up to cup the back of her head. He slipped his tongue into Natasha's mouth, humming when she moaned into the kiss. Slowly, he slid his left hand under her shirt, splaying his hand against the small of her back.

Natasha broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his. "Let me take care of you tonight, Clint," she whispered, pressing soft kisses along her husband's face.

Clint sighed and nodded, letting Natasha push him back down onto the bed. She kissed him lightly before climbing off of him and reaching over to the bedside locker, taking out a bottle of massage oil. "Turn over," she ordered softly, making Clint raise an eyebrow at his wife before doing as she instructed. She poured some of the oil onto her hands before massaging it into his bare shoulders, rubbing the tension away.

"Shouldn't we be in the playroom?" he whispered, looking at her as he twisted his head on the pillow, looking over his shoulder.

Natasha smiled and leaned down, kissing his cheek. "No. I just want you to relax," she whispered against his cheek. "Then you can have your way with me, Sir," she whispered, making him groan as she pressed her thumbs into the hard knots of stress in his shoulders.

"Is this what I have been missing out on all these years?" he asked, letting his eyes close in pleasure as Natasha worked his shoulders.

Natasha smiled and kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, bringing her hands further down his back. "My massages… Yes," she whispered, pressing her hands against his spine, frowning when a few of his vertebrae clicked back into sync. "What have I told you about going to bed without stretching if your back is stiff?" she asked, pressing a nipping kiss to his neck.

"It's not the only thing stiff," he mumbled, making her chuckle lightly. "You're really good at this," he added as she stroked her hands along his triceps.

"You use your arms and shoulders more than any other part of your body," she whispered, grinning when he hummed his agreement. "Except… for when you have me at your mercy," she purred, making him groan in response.

"Tasha," he groaned, earning a saucy grin. "You're wet," he observed; she was wearing a thong under his shirt and he could feel her dripping through the lace fabric.

"All for you, Clint," she promised, making him growl in response. She grinned and grinded her hips against the curve of his ass while bringing her hands back to his shoulders. "Are you going to punish me, Sir?" she purred.

Clint moved suddenly, pinning Natasha to the bed, her hands above her head. She grinned cheekily up at him before he kissed her, making her moan loudly into the kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her so she could feel just stiff he was against her.

He broke the kiss and brought one hand down to the apex of her thighs, grinning when her breathing hitched. He pushed her thong to the side before sliding two fingers inside her. He leaned down and sucked a mark onto her neck, pumping his fingers slowly in and out of her. She arched into him, moaning as he hooked his fingers inside her.

"Clint," she gasped, biting her bottom lip to stop her from moaning too loudly. "Fuck. Please."

He lifted his head to grin at her. "You said I could do whatever I wanted," he pointed out, making her grin as she arched up into him.

"I did, didn't I?" she purred, making him groan as she pressed her breasts up against his chest. "What are you going to do to me, Sir?" she asked, her voice low and husky as he continued to pump his fingers inside her.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Make you come for me," he promised, nipping her earlobe and making her whimper at the contact. "Over and over until you beg me to stop." He grinned when she arched against him, rocking her hips in time with the movement of his fingers. Suddenly, he pulled back, his hands finding the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. He leaned back down and kissed her, grinning against her mouth when she moaned his name. She made to bring her hands to his neck but he pinned her arms above her head, making her groan in response. "Now, now, Mrs. Barton," he whispered, breaking the kiss. "Did I say you could touch?"

Natasha bit her bottom lip before shaking her head. "No, Sir," she replied, smiling when he lowered his head and pressed wet kisses to the tops of her breasts. She spread her legs wider, cradling his weight against her. "May I touch you?" she pleaded, earning a growl from her husband. "I would like to touch you."

"Mmmm…" Clint hummed, moving further down her body until he had his face between her legs. "You may put your hands on my head," he told her before sliding his hands up her thighs and ripping her thong from her. She groaned, immediately bringing her hands down to his hair, her fingers tightening around the locks of hair, holding his head as he buried his face against her core. She whimpered loudly, bucking her hips as he brought one hand to cup the back of her ass while his other hand pushed her leg over his shoulder. He ran his tongue along her sex before pushing it inside her entrance, humming when she moaned his name loudly, bucking her hips against his face.

Clint hummed and pressed harder against her, holding her hips tightly. He slowly brought his lips to her clit, replacing his tongue with two fingers, grinning when she cried out his name. He hooked his fingers upwards, grinning when he felt her thighs tense either side of his head, her fingers tightening around his hair. He added a third, lapping at her folds quickly in between sucking her clit. When he suddenly quicken his pace, Natasha cried out as she came, her thighs closing in on his head. He removed his fingers and lapped at her sex, guiding her down from her orgasm. She whimpered as he flicked her clit with his tongue before he slowly kissed his way up her body.

"Hello," he whispered before claiming her lips with his own. She hummed her delight, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue. He grinned into the kiss, lowering his weight against her. Breaking the kiss, he dropped to press a soft kiss beneath her jaw.

"Switch?" Natasha requested, making him raise an eyebrow. He slowly nodded, rolling them over so he was lying on his back. Natasha smiled and kissed his lips softly before slowly making her way down his body. She placed several kisses along his chest and abs, paying more attention to his various scars. He groaned at the sensation of her lips trailing along his skin and scars. She brought her hands to the hem of his pyjama bottoms, slowly pulling them down. Clint groaned, lifting his hips to help her. She grinned up at him and tugged the pyjamas off of him before taking him in her hand. He groaned loudly as she slowly stroked his cock, placing her free hand on his thigh.

"Tasha, please," he whispered, not really knowing what he wanted.

Natasha grinned up at her husband before lowering her mouth, taking him as deep as she could. She hummed when he groaned, slowly bobbing her head, breathing through her nose. She stroked the base of his cock in time with her movements, grinning up at him when he he grunted her name before cursing. Natasha pulled off of him, continuing to stroke him as she looked up at him. "Yes, Sir?" she purred throatily, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his cock.

"Get up here," he growled, reaching down for her as he pulled himself up against the headboard. She met him halfway, moaning into the kiss as he lifted her into his lap. He maneuverered her over him, pulling her close to him, her breasts pressed up against his chest. "Ride me, Tasha," he whispered huskily into her mouth.

"Gladly," she replied, leaning down and grabbing his cock, guiding him inside her as she sunk down on him. They both moaned loudly at the sensation of his cock filling her up. She stopped moving when the back of her thighs rested on the tops of his. She deepened the kiss, bringing her left hand to cup the back of her husband's head.

Clint brought both hands to her hips, slowly lifting her up before pulling her back down, making her moan into his mouth. He grinned as she broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his as she moved with him. He planted his feet on the mattress as she moved faster, meeting her thrust for thrust. Natasha kissed him again, moaning and nipping on his bottom lip as she moved her hips over his.

"Tasha," he groaned as he broke the kiss, dropping his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked and nipped on the sensitive bud, earning a loud mewl of pleasure from his wife. She still had her left hand on the back of his neck, holding him to her as he sucked on her tits and bucked his hips underneath hers. She brought her right hand to his left knee, using his leg as leverage to help her move faster.

Clint brought one hand between them, his fingers easily finding her swollen clit as she worked herself on him. She whimpered when he started to rub the bundle of nerves in time with her movement. "Clint. Fuck," she gasped, biting her bottom lip as she tightened around him. "I'm close. So… Fuck!" she shouted, cutting herself off when Clint suddenly pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger. She arched against him as she came hard around his cock, whimpering as she buried him deep inside her, her walls clenching methodically around him.

He wrapped both arms around her waist as she came, pulling her against him and thrusting deep up into her a few more times before he came himself, grunting her name as he spilled inside her. She found his mouth with her own, kissing him deeply as they rode out their orgasms. Clint nipped playfully on her bottom lip, making her laugh lightly before pulling away to rest her forehead against his. Natasha brought both hands to his head, gently trailing her fingers through his hair.

"I can hardly believe that you're mine," he whispered against her lips, making Natasha laugh breathlessly. "What did I ever do in a previous life to have you as my wife?"

Natasha smiled and kissed him softly. "You saw me when everyone else assumed they knew who I was," she whispered.

Clint smiled and moved them so they were lying down, making Natasha whimper as his limp cock slipped from inside her. He pulled the sheets over them, cradling Natasha against his chest. She laid her head on his chest, her eyes sliding closed as her husband wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body.

"Mmmm… Feeling better?" she whispered against his skin. He chuckled and nodded, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"Much better. Like the way you always do," he whispered, pulling her closer to him.

She tried to move, making him pout at her. "You know what Erik is like, Clint," she whispered, pressing a placating kiss to his lips. "We need to put on some sort of clothing."

Clint continued to pout but let her climb out of the bed. She made her way over to the closet, smirking when she spotted Clint watching her ass in the mirror. She twisted her head over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him, making him grin. "I'm innocent," he replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

Natasha shook her head at her husband. She grabbed one of Clint's fresh shirts and pulled it over her head before grabbing a fresh pair of his boxers and pulling them up her lean legs. Clint whistled lowly as she turned around, bringing his hands behind his head. Natasha smirked and grabbed a second pair of boxers before returning to the bed. She handed him the boxers as she climbed onto her side of the bed. He pulled on his boxers before rolling over to spoon Natasha as she lay beside him.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" he whispered in her ear, making her snort with laughter.

"First Westlife, now Van Morrison. Getting into your Irish and Northern Irish music, Yastreb?" she teased, looking at him over her shoulder.

Clint grinned and stole a languid kiss. "I'm a hopeless romantic bastard," he whispered against her lips.

"You're my hopeless romantic husband," she corrected, smiling as she slowly broke the kiss. "I love you, Clint," she whispered.

"I love you too, Tasha," he whispered, hugging her close to him…


Natasha groaned as she felt Clint climb out of the bed from where he had been spooning her. He chuckled and pressed his lips to her temple gently. "Artyom's awake," he whispered before climbing out of the bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the floor and leaving the room. Natasha rolled onto the warm spot her husband had left, sighing as she buried her face into the pillow. Moments later, she smiled when she felt a light weight climb onto the end of the bed. She twisted her head to the side as Erik crawled up to the pillows. "You're supposed to be in bed," she greeted, raising an eyebrow at him.

Erik grinned and pointed to the bed. "I am in bed, Mama," he told her cheekily, making Natasha shake her head at her son. She twisted onto her back, wrapping one arm around him and pulling him to her. He snuggled against her, smiling when Natasha hummed in his ear. "Mama, can we go get the new Toa Matoro, Toa Hahli or Toa Jaller later or during the week?" he asked, looking up at her.

The red-head raised an eyebrow before it clicked what Erik was talking about. "They are the Bionicle characters, right?" she asked, just to make sure.

Erik nodded solemnly. "Toa Nuparu is the ice character. Toa Hahli is the water character. Toa Jaller is the fire character," he replied before adding, "Please and thank you."

Natasha smiled and kissed the top of his head. "If you are good and help Papa with that thing he is planning for you two, yes," she replied.

Erik grinned and kissed her cheek before resting his head in the crook of her neck. "Thank you, Mama," he whispered as Natasha wrapped arms tighter around his small body.

"You're welcome, Erik," she whispered just as Clint entered with Artyom, Lucky on his heels. She raised an amused eyebrow at the sight of her youngest son in his diaper, bare-chested like his father. "What happened?" she asked, making Clint pout at her.

"He wouldn't let me dress him," Clint replied, bemused as he sat down beside Erik, his back against the headboard. "He started kicking when I tried to put on his vest." Lucky climbed onto the bottom of the bed, curling up in a ball and promptly falling asleep; Natasha was jealous of the mutt.

Natasha chuckled. "Aw… Poor baby," she teased, smiling at the sight of Artyom sitting up in Clint's lap, slapping his hands down lightly on Clint's chest as he tried to reach for his father's chain.

Clint pouted at his wife before he was distracted by Artyom's attempts to catch his chain. He smirked when Artyom frowned, the seven-month-old looking at Natasha when she laughed. Erik lifted his head and smiled at his little brother, giggling when Artyom grinned gummily at him.

Natasha caught Clint's eyes, the couple sharing a happy smile as their sons laughed together. Artyom reached for Erik. The four-year-old moved to sit between his parents, holding his arms for his younger brother. Clint raised an eyebrow at Natasha. She slowly nodded, sitting up as Clint gently placed Artyom in Erik's arms. She smiled at the sight, looking up at her husband to find him grinning at the sight of their sons together.

Clint took out his phone, taking a picture of Erik and Artyom smiling at each other. He put it as his wallpaper, lifting his head and smiling at Natasha, both forgetting about everything outside their home for that moment in time….


Natasha and Clint made their way through HQ's halls, making their way to Fury's office. The Director had called for a meeting between them, Coulson and Hill; meaning it was extremely classified and he only wanted them to know about. When they reached the office, they found Phil pacing in front of the desk while Maria worked through something on the computer. Nick was standing to the side, watching Maria work.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the scene in front of her, twisting slightly to look at Clint. He shrugged, shutting the door behind him. "What's going on?" Natasha asked, making the three superior agents turn to face her and Clint.

"We have a situation," Maria started calmly, her eyes flickering to Phil. "One of Barton's old mentors has recently begun attacking Council Members of the UN. After we had declared him dead."

"Which one? Phil's standing right there," Clint stated, pointing towards said suit.

"This isn't funny, Barton!" Phil suddenly shouted, turning to face him. "You lied to me! When you said he was dead!"

Clint raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Maria as pulled up an image on the projector behind her. Jacques Duquesne's mug-shot came up.

"Barton, you said this man was dead," Phil argued, making Clint look back at him. "You said Duquesne was dead. No longer an issue."

"Obviously, he's not," Clint replied, glaring at his handler. "The last time I saw him, there was a pool of blood around him, he wasn't breathing and there was no emergency services coming. I was seventeen-years-old. How was I supposed to know he could survive that?"

Natasha frowned before interrupting. "What matters now is that he is still alive and is a problem. To a lot of people," she stated, making Phil turn to face her. "What we need to know is who he is working with? Not blaming anyone for anything else."

Phil looked away, making Natasha raise an eyebrow before turning to her husband. He was frowning at Coulson's back too, his fists clenching at his sides. She placed a placating hand on Clint's arm, gently rubbing her thumb along the inside of his arm. He slowly relaxed beside her, sharing a look as Coulson brought up various images onto the screen. There was various scenes of Duquesne attacking UN Council Members.

"He could be working with various terrorist groups. All with problems with the UN," Maria informed the two assassins. "At the moment, we're not sure what his main goal is. If he has one at all."

Natasha looked at Clint. He slowly nodded. "Duquesne wants revenge against Clint, Barney and Buck Chisholm," Natasha confessed, making the superior officers turn and look at them in surprise.

"When did he approach you?" Nick asked, looking at Clint.

"Chisholm approached me," Clint replied. "End of my last mission. Duquesne kidnapped Chisholm's granddaughter. Chisholm came to me for help."

"Did you agree?" Phil asked, looking at him. "You've always been a sucker for people in trouble."

Clint glared at him. "So Mel is seeing someone who's not you, big deal," he shot back, making Phil's face drop. "I know it hurts, I know you're angry and upset. But you can't take it out on the rest of us, Phil. Nor can you take it out on me. I don't deserve your bullshit."

Phil looked away. "You're right. I'm sorry," he replied. "I have to deal with new recruits. I'll pass on any information that has been found." With that, he left, leaving the office before anyone else could say anything.

Maria looked at Clint. "Who is Mel seeing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Andrew Garner. He's one of the new psychologists S.H.I.E.L.D. has employed," Clint replied. "Obviously, Phil isn't happy about it."

Nick and Maria shared a look before slowly nodding at Clint's revelation. "We won't be partnering them for a while," Nick commented drily. "Did Chisholm reveal anything about what Duquesne wanted?" he asked, not wanting to dwell on the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s oldest team, apart from Clint and Natasha, was on the verge of collapsing.

"Chisholm wants Barney and I to help him rescue his granddaughter. Said we were the only ones who could help him. Told me that Duquesne took Olivia to gain revenge against Chisholm for letting me and Barney escape from our last crime together," Clint informed them. "Duquesne used to abuse a lot of the kids at the circus. He raped Buck's daughter, Victoria. But she was too scared to tell her father. When Barney and I found out, we stopped him. Started hanging out with Victoria a lot more, not giving a chance for Duquesne to hurt her again. And when we informed Buck, he made plans for us to betray Duquesne. Buck left him for dead as he let us escape."

Natasha looked at her husband, surprised to hear him tell Nick and Maria so much of his past.

"Is Olivia Victoria's daughter?" Maria asked, leaning back to look at the archer.

Clint nodded. "Olivia is Victoria's youngest child. Duquesne got Victoria pregnant when she was seventeen. Barney claimed it was his to throw Duquesne off before the last hit. It worked. Victoria has four kids now, happily married and has a steady job. Then Duquesne found out where she was and kidnapped Olivia. After finding out that Alexander was his. Claiming it was retribution for stealing Alexander away from him."

Maria brought her hands to her face. "Why? Why can't bastards leave their kids alone?" she asked, lifting her head.

Natasha frowned at her words before remembering that Maria didn't have that good of a relationship with her father. "What's the play?" she asked, looking at the older agents in front of her.

"Barney and I should see what Chisholm wants to do. How he wants to play it," Clint answered. "If it is too dangerous, we can change our play. Bring in support from outside."

Natasha watched as Nick and Maria shared a look. Nick turned back to Natasha. "What do you think?" he asked.

She didn't bother to look at Clint. "I don't like not having Clint's back. Not that I don't trust Barney but you always trust yourself more than you trust anyone else… But, for now, it's the best play we can make," she answered honestly.

Nick nodded. "Okay. We will create a joint F.B.I.-S.H.I.E.L.D. case to alone Barney to join you. Should cover him," he started. "What do you need?"

Clint tilted his head. "You're going to regret asking that, Sir," he replied…


Clint smiled as he worked with Erik, showing the four-year-old how to sand down the wood properly. The little boy had his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he kept his hands on his father's hands, guiding the sander over the wooden piece. Clint pressed a soft kiss to his oldest son's head, smiling as his little boy concentrated on the task at hand.

"Papa, will I be going to school?" Erik suddenly asked as they finished the downward motion.

Clint paused in his motions. "If you want to go to school, you can go to school," he slowly replied. "If you want to be home schooled, that's okay too." Clint and Natasha had discussed their options; if their boys wanted to go to public school they could. If they wanted to be home schooled, Ashley had agreed to do exactly that.

Erik bit his bottom lip in thought. "I don't know, Papa," he stated, pulling his hands away from the wood. Clint placed the sander on the table, letting Erik turn to look at him. "I… I don't know what the other kids will think of me," he confessed.

Clint tilted his head to the side, surprised by Erik's words. "Why?" he asked, lifting Erik so he was looking Clint in the eye.

"Because of my accent. And that I'm very smart like Auntie Eva said," Erik answered. "Kids don't like other kids being smarter than them."

Clint frowned and pulled his oldest son close. "Aw, Buddy," he whispered, hugging the four-year-old. "I don't think the kids at your school will not like you just because you are smart," he whispered, lifting Erik's head. "I think you will make a lot of friends at school who will like you for you being so smart."

Erik bit his bottom lip before looking back at the table. "Can we finish the bow?" he asked, diverting the topic.

Clint raised an eyebrow at him and slowly nodded; Natasha was teaching Erik bad habits about diverting subjects they didn't want to talk about. Not that he could say much about that himself. "Okay… So we got to string up the bow. Make sure that you can pull back the string but that it won't hurt you to do so," Clint explained as Erik turned back around to look at the bow on the table. "Shall we start?" Erik nodded, turning to smile at his father over his shoulder. Clint returned his smile and grabbed the string. "Okay, so this end goes here…."


Clint was sitting with Erik and Lucky on the floor of the living-room, helping his son making his new Bionicle figures. Clint was reading the instructions manual when somebody knocked on the door. He raised an eyebrow and looked at his son. "Can you continue without me, Buddy?" he asked as he stood up.

Erik nodded, paying close attention to his different sets. Clint kissed the top of Erik's head before making his way to the front door as Natasha exited Artyom's room with the seven-month-old dressed and in her arms. She raised an eyebrow at him, making Clint shrug in reply. "Erik's in the living-room," he informed her. She nodded and made her way into the living-room while Clint went to the door.

"Are you an idiot?" Barney hissed at his younger brother when Clint opened the door.

Clint sighed and opened the door further, letting Barney in. "No," he answered as he shut the door. "The video is real, Barn," he added, making his older brother pause.

"You sure?" he asked, spotting Natasha soothing Artyom in the living-room, the seven-month-old curled against his mother's chest. "Does Natasha know?"

Clint nodded, looking in at his family. "Her exact words were that if you're weren't in this that she wasn't going to let me do this alone," he replied, smiling as Erik played with Lucky in the living-room while Natasha sat with Artyom.

Barney noticed the look on Clint's face. "Chisholm nearly killed you the last time he saw you," he pointed out, making Clint look at him. "How can we trust him?"

"His granddaughter," Clint replied. "And Chisholm has cancer," he added, making Barney look at him in surprise. Clint shrugged. "Natasha did some digging."

Barney looked out at Natasha before turning back to Clint. "Your wife is one smart cookie."

Clint smiled. "She sure is. Are you in? I don't expect anything, Barn."

The older of two brothers shook his head. "I'm in. This is our past. Not Nat's, not Ashley's. Although, I know Natasha's not going to want to stand on the side lines."

Clint snorted. "She could take down at least twenty trained men and walk away with nothing more than a complaint that they can't fight properly," he stated, making Barney laugh.

"She does have a wicked right hook," Barney agreed, grinning knowingly at him. "I've witnessed her using it on you. It was pretty funny."


Natasha watched Clint and Barney speak in hushed voices. Artyom was teething and didn't want to be put down, curling against the red-head's chest while Erik continued to make his new Bionicle character sets on the rug in the living-room. Erik laughed when Lucky stood up and began licking the boy's face, trying to distract Erik from the task at hand but to no avail.

Natasha turned her head back to her oldest son, smiling as he laughed loudly as Lucky licked at his face. Artyom lightly snored against the spot where he had rested his head on his mother's breast.

"Aw, Lucky," Erik complained, sounding like his father without coffee as the one-eyed Labrador continued to lick at his face. "Want to get these finished. Please?" he begged, point at the three Bionicles lying half-completed on the floor in front of him.

Natasha whistled, making Lucky pause and look up at her. She patted the spot beside her, raising an eyebrow when Lucky's tail wagged happily; Natasha usually didn't want the dog on the couch. He pulled away from Erik and leaped onto the couch beside the red-head, curling up against her. "That better?" she asked Erik.

Erik smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mama," he replied before he returned to making his toys.

Artyom whined lightly, nuzzling against Natasha's breasts. She pressed a soft kiss to his head, smiling as he gripped the collar of her top. Standing, she made her way out to the kitchen to prepare a bottle for the seven-month-old. Clint turned his head, smiling at her as she walked in with Artyom in her arms. "Everything okay?" he asked, interrupting his conversation with Barney. Natasha nodded, pointing at the bottle beside him as she took out the formula. Clint grabbed the bottle and walked over to her.

Barney smirked at the two. He pointed to the living-room and informed them, "I'm going to say hello to Erik." He left them alone, smirking smugly and knowingly at the two of them.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her husband as he stood behind her. Clint rested his head on her shoulder, smiling when Artyom lifted his head to look at his father. "Hey, Little Hawk," Clint greeted, pressing his lips to Artyom's forehead. "Your mouth still hurting you?" he asked rhetorically, bringing one hand from Natasha's waist to gently stroke a finger along Artyom's cheek.

Natasha leaned into Clint's body as she measured out the formula for Artyom's bottle. "He refuses to leave my arms," Natasha told her husband, twisting her head to look at her son who turned into her, nuzzling his head against her cheek.

Clint pulled away and took over making the bottle. "Anything we can do for him?" he asked, feeling helpless that his little boy was in pain and he could do nothing about it.

"I'm still breastfeeding which is making it easier for him," Natasha replied. "But now that I'm back at work, we decided to start reducing the breastfeeding to twice a day. If he starts crying, Eva told me to use the Bonjela teething gel."

Clint bit his bottom lip. "Do we have any?" he asked, lifting his head from where he was preparing the bottle.

Natasha nodded and lifted her head from where she had her mouth pressed against Artyom's temple. "I got it earlier. Don't worry," she whispered, kissing his cheek. "I had Eva check him. He's teething, nothing else," she promised him.

Clint sighed and slowly nodded. Natasha rested her head against Clint's cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his racing pulse. "I feel so helpless, Tasha," he whispered, bringing a hand to gently rest on the top of his son's head.

She closed her eyes. "There are some things you can't keep him from experiencing Clint," she whispered, "No matter how much you want to. Nature has to take place."

Clint pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Doesn't mean I have to like it," he whispered.

"I don't like it either," she replied, lifting her head to look him in the eye. "But we can only do so much for him. He'll grow out of it eventually," she whispered before kissing him softly. "Trust me."

"I do trust you," he whispered, smiling softly as Artyom whined and reached for Clint when the archer shook the bottle of formula.

"Somebody's hungry," Natasha stated, smiling as Clint gently took Artyom in his arms. "Now you can tend to him, Papa," she whispered, kissing her husband softly. Clint hummed against her lips before she pulled back. "Have you and Barney come to a decision?" she asked.

Clint nodded as he fed Artyom his bottle. "Yeah. We'll meet up with Buck. Make sure he's not playing us. Victoria has reached out to us too. Barney helped set her up with her job and her husband. Like I did for Kate and America Chavez," Clint replied.

"Do this for Victoria then," Natasha whispered. "Forget about the idea that you're doing this for Chisholm. Think of it as doing it for Victoria."

Clint took a breath and nodded. Natasha smiled and kissed him. "Come on. Let's make sure Erik hasn't killed Barney yet," she whispered as she pulled away, smirking smugly when Clint grinned at her. He followed her out into the living-room where Erik was sitting on Barney's chest, smirking as he continued to make Toa Nuparu. Barney was frowning at his nephew before looking at Natasha and Clint when they entered.

Natasha raised an amused at her brother-in-law while Clint snorted.

"You two have been teaching your son bad habits," Barney stated, twisting his head to look at Erik who had raised his head from finishing Toa Nuparu. "I am not a cushion."

Erik smirked. "Mama's more comfortable," the four-year-old agreed. "You would make a good stool," he added as an afterthought.

Natasha and Clint couldn't help but laugh at the look of mock-outrage on Barney's face. He turned to look at the couple. "See? Bad habits. It's disgraceful," he continued.

Clint moved to sit down on the couch, moving so Artyom was more comfortable drinking his bottle. Natasha smirked and perched herself on the arm of the couch. "Did Uncle Barney try to tickle you, Erik?" Natasha asked, making Erik grin as he looked up from Toa Nuparu.

"Yes. He didn't think Lucky would help me beat him," Erik replied proudly, making Lucky bark when the four-year-old said the dog's name.

"Your own fault," Natasha told her brother-in-law. "You shouldn't try to out-do my son again," she warned him.

Barney pouted and looked back at Erik who had gone back to making his toy. "Do not teach my kids how to do this," he instructed the four-year-old.

"No promises," Erik replied, holding up Toa Nuparu. "Finished!" he cheered, making Natasha grin.

"Well done," Natasha replied, holding her arms out for the four-year-old. He nimbly removed himself from his perch on Barney's chest and raced over to his mother, easily climbing into his mother's arms. He grinned as he handed the toy. "That is very cool," Natasha admired, inspecting the toy. "Well done, Erik," she repeated, kissing her son's cheek.

"Thank you, Mama," he replied, hugging her as he smiled. "Now I have to finish Toa Jaller and Toa Hahli," he stated seriously. Natasha kissed his cheek again.

"Go for it," she whispered, letting him down to move back to the other two character sets he had yet to finish completely.

Barney moved to sit in the armchair across from Natasha and Clint. "I better get back to Ashley. I had promised to be only an hour," he stated. "Her parents are over."

"Avoiding your in-law's?" Clint teased, making Barney glare half-heartedly at him in reply.

"No," Barney replied. "But I did get a sudden new case that frightened the crap out of me," he stated, standing up. "How many times have I told you not to do that to me?"

Clint tilted his head before grinning. "This is the first time, actually," he stated, making Barney groan.

"Goodbye," Barney stated, kissing Natasha's cheek before ruffling Erik's head. "Wreck your daddy's head for me, Erik," he requested as Natasha walked with him out to the front door.

"No promises, Uncle Barney," Erik called out with a cheeky grin, making Clint snort as Artyom pulled away from his bottle. Clint gently moved Artyom into a sitting position, helping the seven-month-old get up any wind up. Erik grinned at his little brother when Artyom burped loudly. Erik climbed up beside Clint, grinning when Artyom reached for him.

"Lean back against the back of the couch," Clint instructed. Erik did as he was told, smiling when Clint gently placed Artyom on Erik's lap. Erik kept a hand behind Artyom's back despite the fact Artyom was pretty sturdy. Erik grinned up at his father, Clint smiling back at his son. Clint leaned back in the couch, keeping one arm around Erik's waist and using it to pat Lucky's head.


"You know I'll have Clint's back out there, right?" Barney asked as he and Natasha reached the door.

Natasha smiled weakly at her brother-in-law. "That doesn't stop me from worrying," she replied.

Barney placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "I promised I'll bring him back home to you, Nat. Ashley would kill me if we didn't come home together," he stated with a small grin. "And there is no way I'm leaving my kids or yours without their father."

Natasha nodded. "You better not," she warned him.

Barney grinned. "I've seen your right hook… And heard rumours about your thighs. I know not to piss you off," he replied. "I'll see you later, Nat."

"Drive safe, Barney," Natasha replied. "Say hello to Ashley."

"Will do," he replied. With that, he was gone. Natasha shut the door and locked it before returning to the living-room. She smiled at the sight of Erik sitting with Artyom in his lap beside Clint, Lucky curled up beside the four-year-old, the dog's head against Erik's thigh. She leaned against the doorframe, admiring the view in front of her. And no one was going to take it away from her…

If you spot any puns in any of my stories, please feel free to point them out to me :D

To answer the reviews from the previous chapter:

Sith Shadow Stalker: Haha. Yes; "It's Daddy in green and a hood!" :) Hope this was worth the very, very long wait :)

Princess2016: Thank you :) Hope this was as good as the last one :)

Feedback is appreciated :)