HEY GUYS! How are you?
I'm sorry I haven't posted quite AS much.
Disclaimer: Don't own Marvel, that's the end of the story.
Clint: Don't worry, tomorrow, you can see more of MOI!
Tony: I think they want to see me...
Clint: Uh, the story kind of revolves around me and Nat, so... :/
Tony: (rolls his eyes)
Clint: SUCKER!
Clint practically floated to his room, that's how happy he was.
He knew it was probably just something small, but his brain couldn't help but blow it out of proportion. Even though he could barely remember what had just happened, he enjoyed the thought of that kiss.
He slowly lay down onto his bed, ignoring the pain in his shoulder once again. Yes, his headache had returned, and yes, he was still mad that the Avengers for waking him up, and triple yes, he was worried and kind of scared-though he wouldn't admit it out loud-of the the time capsule suddenly speeding up and rendering them all kids.
With this dizzying feeling digging deep down into his bones-either from the fever or the kiss and the thought of the time capsule, Clint went to sleep, without Tylenol, with the kiss as his painkiller. He's just needed a break from all this stress.
Clint woke up in the middle of the night, the nightmare of a dying Coulson, and his blood on Clint's hands bubbling in his mind. As soon as he sat up, a gentle soft moaning filled his ears. He turned to look at the source, which was a stirring Natasha lying beside him.
The two had shared beds before, and slept beside each other, but it didn't mean anything at all. It was just usually a shortage of beds where ever they were at the time, or they needed some warmth. And no, it wasn't awkward, because they are almost like family.
Were almost like family. But now for Clint, there was a huge amount of sexual tension hovering heavily in the air like a veil. He watched her eyes slowly open as he lay back down beside her.
"Sorry," He whispers gently, "I had a nightmare."
"It's alright," She answers back, giving him a weary smile. "Sorry I'm... Here, with no reason."
Clint impulsively reached his hand over and tucked a curl of red hair back behind Natasha's ear, wondering if what he just did was normal. Oh my god, please don't hit me.
He looks really tired, Natasha inquired, like extremely tired. More tired than usual. He looks really worn out.
The two held each other's gaze for a long time, like they did when the Avenger's were chatting in the hallway just the day before.
"Well, good night." Clint said quickly, and turned over onto his other side so that his back faced Natasha.
She rolled her eyes tiredly, and also half-heartedly. She was too exhausted to snort and fire back a remark. "Good night, Clint." And she turned over so that her back faced his.
Both were thinking the same thing as they drifted off to sleep.
I wonder if they're feeling just as awkward as me right now.
Clint slept until late noon. He woke up because someone pulled his covers off and he was exposed to the cold air of the room. As soon as he sat up, he glanced at his alarm clock at his bed.
And then he cursed loudly, realizing that it was very late in the afternoon, and that Natasha had turned off his alarm clock. At first he felt like he should be extremely mad at her, but then he did a double take. Natasha did it for his own good, so he would probably have to thank her after.
As he swung his feet over the side of his bed, he looked for his blankets warily. That's about when he saw the two five-year-olds holding onto his covers and giggling loudly.
Oh no, he mouthed to himself.
A little Tony and little Thor continued giggling, clutching Clint's blankets in their chubby fingers.
Crap.
Clint shot up off of his bed, running for the two five-year-olds, but clearly, Thor could still fly. Little Thor shot up into the air, dangling Clint's blankets over his head. Quickly, Clint climbed onto his desk, leapt off, and snatched Thor out of the air, pulling his blankets out of mini-Asgardian god of thunder's hand. Clint threw his blankets back onto his bed, held Thor who was giggling into his neck and started chasing after slow, waddling Tony. He caught Tony, and now carried the two mini-Avengers in his arms.
The little Avengers continued giggling into his chest, even as he walked out into the kitchen, where a tired looking Pepper, a smiling Maria, a bored looking Darcy-who was somehow friends with Thor or something, Clint wasn't sure-an unhappy Nick Fury, and a distressed-trying to keep a hold on a squirming little Hulk-Natasha sat.
Clint put the little Tony and Thor down, letting them run over to also little Steve, who was coloring in a picture of his adult self.
Which is really cute, in retrospect.
"What the hell happened?!" Clint demanded, sitting down across from Natasha, right beside Nick.
Pepper dug her hands into her disheveled bun. "The Avengers are all kids except for you two, luckily. End of story."
"Sorry, I let you sleep in," Natasha said, not sounding sorry at all, more strained as little Hulk gave her one last punch in the jaw before settling down, "You looked like you needed it."
He just smiled, and took her clammy hand gently, holding it with his warm hands. "Thank you."
Fury made a face, raising an eyebrow, and frowning as well. He turned and motioned for little Tony-who was glancing expectantly at the table-to come join them. The toddler-ized alter-ego of Iron Man ran over to them, and jumped into Pepper's lap, who was too tired to object.
"So," little Tony proclaimed very professionally, in his high-pitched voice, "I fixed the time box so that we are going to be kids, and not just disappear."
His vocabulary had slightly degraded, but the way he was leaning his head back into Pepper's chest with a smug grin on his look meant that he was still the same old Tony on the inside.
"Great. How do we fix it?" Clint got straight to the point, and Natasha's hand stiffened in his.
The Hulk changed back into Bruce, who fidgeted in his spot until he found a position he was comfortable with in Natasha's lap. He then stayed still, blinking slowly as he answered Clint's rude question.
"It'th quite thimple." Bruce said, and Clint's eyes widened.
"A lisp?" He felt like laughing, slapping a hand up to stifle the loud laugh that was currently climbing up his throat.
Bruce rolled his little eyes dramatically. "Yeth, I have a lithp. Get over it. Anyway, ath I wath thaying, the time box thimply needth it'th counter-act button."
"Don't we have that?" Maria's face was now sullen, the smile wiped out of existence. You couldn't even tell she was smiling just the moment before.
"Unfowtunately," Bruce eyed Tony, who sunk deeper into Pepper's chest sheepishly. "Thomeone loth it in hith workthop or where ever elthe he liketh to throw hith thuff around."
For a long while, no one spoke.
Darcy's elbow was on the table, her hand pressed against her cheek, supporting her head. She looked very bored, and she was the only one who didn't fit in in this picture. "It's so cruel how there's an S in lisp." She said at last, and Clint had to laugh. Just a little.
"Don't you guyth get it?!" Bruce exploded, throwing his little arms in the air, "Thith ithn't a joke!"
Darcy sat still, until Fury kind of arched his head around Natasha to look at her. "Ms. Lewis. What are you still doing here?" Fury asked calmly, and strangely enough, without swearing.
"Oh yeah!" Darcy sat up straight. "Gotta go, gotta get this to Jane, who's probably been wondering where the hell I am right now." She waves a rolled up scroll of paper. "See you little Avengers, and... Big Avengers." With that Darcy picks up her jacket off the back of her chair and leaves.
Tony picks the sesame seeds off Pepper's bagel and takes a bite out of it. "Legolas and Natty, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." He stops, thinking about the rest of the song.
At this moment, Natasha and Clint look at each other's hands, which are still together. They quickly release at the same time, and wipe their hands on their pants.
Pepper puts Tony down onto the floor, making him pout. "Don't try to hide it!" Tony calls, voice floating in the air since he's too short to show up over the top of the table, "I have a video clip of that!"
"Hang on..." Natasha looks at her big hands next to Bruce's. "How are Clint and I still adults, while all the other Avengers are kids?"
"Brucie and I have no idea!" Tony yells, "We think it might have something to do with the fact that both of yours are stuck together!"
Natasha's eyes fill with confusion, and meet Clint's amused fill ones. "They're stuck?" She asks slowly, tucking a stray curl of red hair behind her ear, therefore pulling it away from her green eyes, "Like, you can't pry them apart?"
"We tried evewything," Bruce's voice was small, but strained and tired, making it sound like an old. "Latherth, Tony'th roboth. It juth can't come apart."
"You two are souuuul mates!" Tony chirped, but Clint isn't listening.
There's a sudden bang, probably Fury falling out of his chair because everybody has dropped to the ground, and then everything gets deafning. The kids scream, and Maria dives for them.
What's happening?
His mind is spinning. His thoughts are becoming squished together, and then pulled apart. The stress of this is just...
Why? Why are his and Natasha's pieces supposed to be together? What was so special about their relationship?
FREEZE FRAME.
Clint remembered that when he was very little, he used to have dance off's with his brother. They would dance and dance very silly, and then their dad or mom would love to come, and pause their music, and the two would go into a freeze frame moment, not moving.
Eventually, and it was usually Clint's little brother Barney, one of them fall down laughing and be tickled by the other. The tickler would scream, in succesion; "Get down Mr. President!"
And the tickled would laugh.
END OF FREEZE FRAME.
His head kept spinning, flying around the room. He felt like throwing up, and he didn't know why. His whole body was tingling, as he fell off his chair, as if he was being tickled, but there was little pleasure in the sudden numbness.
And then black pulled at the corners of his mind, and then he saw was Natasha's mouth moving frantically, but no words pouring out.
Natasha crawled over to freshly-shot Clint, as Fury starts taking down the attacker. She presses his chest where a hole the size of a dime from the bullet has entered, just above his heart. She felt her throat ripping.
No, I can't cry. She bites her lip, and continues pressing his chest. More gunshots in the air ring, but these don't effect her or Clint. Don't die on me, Clint, you are not dying on me.
Clint stared at Natasha's glistening green eyes. He still didn't understand what Fury was yelling, or why Nat kept pressing his chest and then turning around and yelling.
The last thing he saw before everything faded away was Natasha's glistening green eyes, and he fell into the abyss of darkness.
In case it wasn't clear, Clint got shot.
Crap.
