The nursery had finally been finished about a week later, on a Wednesday. Clint and Natasha walked into the room; it was bright with lots of windows and a large closet and enough room for the furniture Bruce and Steve had gotten them. The only problem now was that everything was stark white- even the carpet. Clint had gone out that morning and brought home different cans of paint so they could decide on a color to paint everything.

Natasha knelt down and opened one that said, "FROM TONY" at the top. Her face was deadpan as she lifted the lid and set it on the piece of tarp she had next to her.

"I'm going to punch him," Clint hissed. The pink paint in the can was so bright he had to look away. "No way are we using pink."

"Are you gender stereotyping our son?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. "What if he likes pink, hm?"

Shaking his head, Clint used a screw driver to pop off the top of another can. "No son of mine will have a room that is bright pink," he said. "No DAUGHTER of mine will have a room that is bright pink."

Natasha sighed. "You are hard to please, Clint."

The man gave a smug smile and placed the lid of his can on the tarp. "There's a dark blue here," he said. "That must mean that the other cans-" he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. "-are two different shades of purple and one red."

After closing the can of pink paint, Natasha stood up and walked to the other cans. Just as she was about to kneel down and open one, Steve appeared at the entrance of the room and knocked lightly on the doorway.

"You guys have a few visitors," Steve announced. He stepped to the side and gestured to someone in the hallway. A short blonde girl came in with a large box in her arms and behind her was a tall ginger carrying two more. SHIELD was on the sides of the boxes, and that caused both assassins to look at each other in confusion.

"Hi Mr. Barton," Kelly said with a smile. She turned and started when she saw Natasha. "H-hello..."

"They are the two I was telling you about, Natasha," Clint said, looking back at her. "Kelly Cline and Forrest Weiss."

Forrest set down his boxes and crossed his arms. The two had gotten standard uniforms now, which meant they had been passing all the tests, but what they were doing away from the base was a question Clint almost did not want to ask.

"We brought gifts, courtesy of all the recruits in Mr. Barton's class...and the other agents." Forrest kicked a box off the top of the tower and it spilled open; Natasha let her head fall back and she covered her face, but Clint let out a chuckle. The entire box- and probably the other two, also- had been packed full of stuffed hawks. They were all different colors, shapes, and sizes.

The archer covered his face and tried to stifle his laughs. "They really take my code name seriously." He reached down and picked up a hawk, tossing another to Natasha. "They're really soft."

"Oh, th-this...one's from Fury..." Kelly said, opening the box she had brought. The hawk inside it was very soft and plush- it was a Pillow Pet in the shape of a hawk.

"Fury," Natasha said bluntly. "Fury as in the man who hates 'snot-nosed brats' and wants nothing to do with them." She stood up and took the Pillow Pet. The entire time her face was as blank as if she was back at Shield.

Forrest shrugged. "We're just following orders," he said as he adjusted his hat. "We've got to head back now. See you later, Mr. Barton. Bye Miss Romanov." Kelly gave a weak, somewhat terrified smile and scurried out of the room after her friend.

To help out, Steve piled the stuffed hawks back into the box and set them in a neat pile against the wall in the hall. Pepper had come in a few minutes afterwards in an attempt to help them chose a color for the room. All she could do was sigh when the assassins got into a quiet argument over the colors of blue and red. Since she assumed Tony would have a new carpet in here soon, Pepper knew he wouldn t mind if she got the current one a bit messy. She picked up an open can of purple paint and splashed it all over the nearest wall.

The assassins' jaws dropped in shock.

"Dark purple with blue and red hawks painted on the walls," Pepper said with a smile. "It works, correct?"

"Hmph, I guess it does," Clint said. He looked at his watch and then he glanced at the girls. "I'll throw the colors we don't need into my closet and go pick up more."

Natasha nodded. "Alright, I'll see you when you get back, alright?"

When he turned and left, a sly smile appeared on her face. Pepper stood back and Natasha strolled to the door, closed it, and locked it. Steve, who had been standing in the room at the time, opened his mouth to say something, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Quiet, Steve," Natasha said smoothly. "You're going to help us, okay?"


Clint came home with a few more cans of the same color. They were planning to work on the room slowly but surely, at their own time, so they did not need a whole lot right away. He scratched the side of his head and pulled his sunglasses up as he stepped into the building.

Up and up and up, and finally he reached his floor. He stepped out of the elevator and wandered down the hall, reaching out to grab the door handle. Suddenly he stopped, a look of worry on his face.

"Natasha?" he called. The door was locked and he could not hear anything inside (then again, this is Clint and he could not hear anything to save his life). "Hey, Natasha, are you in there?"

Again, there was nothing. He could have broken down the door, but that would be inconvenient and Tony would probably punch him. Clint sighed and placed the cans down on the floor. He leaned against the wall and waited for a long while until the door was finally opened.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear Pepper's giggling," Natasha said with a look. She took a step to the side and Clint walked in, not sure what he was expecting anymore.

"Oh- oh, I see how you are," Clint breathed, looking around the room. In the single hour he had been gone, the girls- and Steve- had covered the entire room with purple paint and silly silhouettes of all the Avengers and hawks in different colors. "Did you-"

Natasha smiled and leaned against Clint, her head against his chest. "We had paint in the closet," she said. "You are so oblivious."

He rubbed her back, running a hand through her hair. Clint knew that anything more than that would be a little uncomfortable to the assassin, who was unused to showing even the slightest affection around others. "I'll get you back eventually," he said. "Just you watch." Natasha did not see it, but a frown crossed his face as he thought of the next few days.


"Clint, where are you going?"

"I'm...headed out..." Clint mumbled. It was now the next Sunday, nice and surprisingly cool for an early July morning. He was slowly getting out of bed and trudging to the bathroom to take a shower and get off all the paint from the past couple days. Natasha was a little worried because it was so early the- sun was hardly up.

"Are you okay?" She stifled a yawn and walked over to the bathroom door, repeating what she had just asked. Clint gave her an, 'I'm fine,' and because she trusted him, she nodded slightly and went back to the bed to sit down. All she could hear was the shower- she wondered where Clint's usual singing had run off to. Clint rarely got up so early on days he got off, so Natasha went through a list of dates in her head. She was beginning to become a tad bit angry with herself for forgetting the date.

She ran a hand over her arm and stood up, walking over to the calendar on the wall. It was still on the last month so she reached up and pinned the paper back, scanning the squares until she found the day she was looking for.

There, in Clint's scribbly handwriting, was one name. It said, 'Coulson'.

"Oh..." she breathed, her heart sinking. She looked to the door of the bathroom- thinking a quick thanks that she did not have to see that place every morning- and took in the silence. Clint had been going to Coulson's grave once or twice every few months. She felt bad for forgetting.

Natasha sat on the bed, her hands resting neatly in her lap. When Clint walked out of the bathroom, he had pants on and was pulling a shirt over his head.

"Would you like me to go with you?" she asked.

"Um..." He paused before sitting down on the bed. When he finally did sit, Natasha rested her head against his shoulder.

"I'll be perfectly okay if you wish to talk to him alone," she said. Clint nodded and closed his eyes.

"I would prefer that..." he said. Natasha brought her hand up and grabbed Clint's shoulder.

She allowed her eyes to close. "Be back before lunch, alright?"

He nodded and stood up. Clint gave her a tight hug, then grabbed a bag he had in the corner, and put his sunglasses on his head. They waved to each other as Clint exited the room.

It took only twenty minutes to get to the grassy area that had already become familiar to Clint. He stepped out of the car and looked up at the brightening sky, tightening his grip on the bag in his hand as if someone would come and take it away. Shield agents who had died in action were buried amongst other 'normal' people, and his destination was one stone way in the back.

He reread the stones he passed again for what felt like the hundredth time. When he spotted one, he placed the bag next to it and knelt down, resting his hands on his knee, and head on his hands.

"I actually come with good news this time," Clint began. The sun was now glaring in his eyes so he pulled down his sunglasses and reached for the bag. "But first, I found this for you." Clint pulled a little figure out of the bag. It was a Captain America toy. For the first time, Clint got Steve to sign the present he brought to Coulson, and that signature was sprawled across the plastic shield.

"Thought you'd like it." Every time he came he brought something new because everything he left disappeared.

He placed it next to the stone and read the words one more time- 'Phil Coulson.' For a while he just sat in silence, until he remembered what he was going to say.

"Guess what? I think you would be excited to hear this," he said. "Or, well, as excited as you of all people could get." He chuckled. "Tasha's going to have a baby soon."

Suddenly he paused as a group of young children and an older woman walked by. One girl looked familiar, but he could not place it where. They stopped at a stone just a few feet away from where he sat.

He narrowed his eyes and scanned the stone for a name, only seeing 'Jessica Cline'-

"Kelly's sister," he breathed. His heart hurt for some reason; he had heard that one of his recruits had been in a family with an abusive mother and immediately figured it was Kelly, but no one told him that her sister had died.

Clint stood up, grabbed his bag, and wandered over.

"Oh, hello..." the woman began, spotting Clint. "What are you-"

He looked down at the girl. "She's Kelly's little sister, isn't she?"

The woman sighed and pulled a lock of hair behind her ear. "She is," she whispered. "I take her here every month. Say, how do you know Kelly?"

"She's one of my students," Clint said with a shrug. "Very nice girl."

"Oh, so you must be her trainer at SHIELD. My husband and I adopted her and her sister when they were very young...after...Jessica..."

Clint shook his head as if to say 'don't say anymore'.

"Mama, I have nothing to put here!" the girl cried. She looked over her shoulder at the woman, who lightly touched her forehead with her fingers, angry she had forgotten.

"Sorry, Olive, it completely slipped my mind. Maybe next time?" The little girl looked up at her mother with sad eyes.

Clint raised an eyebrow. He reached into his bag and pulled out a flower. It was fake, but today he had decided to bring them to put by COulson's grave because fake flowers never died. He had a few to spare.

The girl looked at the blue flower; she took it when Clint handed it to her and dug a little hole in the ground next to the stone, placing it and filling the hole again to keep it standing.

"Thank you, sir," she said, her green eyes bright. Clint nodded and waved to her. He turned and headed back to his original spot. In the background he could hear the group of kids running around and playing, and saw Olive sitting in front of Jessica's stone.

Clint did not hear the woman when she walked over. He looked out of the corner of his eye after a few minutes, and then looked up.

"Someone special?" she asked. It was only fair that he answered her back after asking her a similar question.

"An old friend," Clint replied. "He died three years ago in a really, really bad accident."

The woman nodded in acknowledgement. "He liked Captain America?" she asked.

"Huge fan." He laughed and switched to a more comfortable position on the ground with his legs crossed Indian style. "When we were training together he would never shut up about how much he wanted to meet him."

"Doesn't everyone?" the woman asked.

You have no idea...Clint thought with a deep sigh.

Suddenly she jerked her head up at the sound of a child crying. "It was nice meeting you," the woman said. "I hope you have a peaceful day." And with that she ran to the child across the field.

He lifted his sunglasses and rubbed one of his eyes. Suddenly all the memories of his nightmares came flooding back to him and he had to close his eyes and calm himself down, just like his old therapist used to say. He thought of being back with Natasha and Eric and the rest of his friends, and he knew quickly that he had to head home soon before he got any more upset.

Like the girl, he dug a hole in the ground and put a bunch of flowers in it.

"By the way, we named him Eric. His middle name is Phil..." he whispered. "We all miss you."

Clint only allowed himself a few more moments. He stood, mumbled a good bye, and then turned to leave. Olive waved and he waved back.

In his car, he pulled out his phone. He quickly texted, 'I miss him' to Natasha and then leaned back in the seat. He could hear the loud giggles and laughter of the children.

We all do, Clint. You aren't having nightmares again, are you?

No, no, I'm fine. I just...every time I come back here it hits me again that he's gone.

He shook his head to clear it and then leaned forward. There was no time to be sad- Tasha was going to have a baby soon. His baby. That was something to be happy about!

Clint forced a weak smile and reached out to turn the keys.


Shinzu: Oh, uh, ahah, sorry this is so long compared to the other chapters. This idea was in our roleplay for a fleeting moment, and I remembered it and got an idea from it. And woot Kelly!