Hey everyone! I didn't forget about this, I promise. Let's just pretend I timed it on purpose to correspond with the upcoming release of the Avengers on DVD. ;) Actually, I felt like that the last chapter was a good place to stop while I mulled over what should happen next. And now, without further ado, our story continues...


Tony felt as though it had been an eternity since he had last laid eyes on Avengers Tower, his new home away from home, though it had only been about a month. The tower shone like a brilliant jewel in the bright midday sun. He could already see Pepper rushing across the penthouse lounge toward him as he lowered toward his personal landing pad where machines automatically began removing his armor. "Tony!" she cried, running up the steps while he walked toward her. The last pieces of armor had only just been removed when the red-head threw her arms around him. "I missed you," she breathed.

Tony smiled and held her close. "I missed you too." No smart remarks, no pretending she didn't mean the world to him. The words he said were too true for that. Maybe it was because they hadn't been apart for so long since he himself had been a captive in Afghanistan. Or maybe it was because he had seen how much Clint and Natasha had gone through this past month—what she had risked to find him, what he had gone through just to see her again. All Tony Stark wanted now was to have the woman he loved close to him.

Tony put his hands on Pepper's shoulders and pushed her back so that they stood face-to-face. "The rest of the team will be here soon," he said in his most businesslike tone of voice. "Is everything ready?"

"We're all set," she said with a nod. "Monitors, medicines, a wheelchair, and everything else that the doctor requested; plus a guest suite is ready for Lee." It took a moment for Tony to realize that by 'Lee', she meant Dr. Kirby. "It—it's starting to look like a hospital down there, but I did my best to make it feel like home."

"Clint doesn't like hospitals any more than the next person, but anything's better than the helicarrier," Tony pointed out. "At least here, he'll be surrounded by friends rather than strangers. And the food is better."

"But… does he really need all of that medical equipment?" Pepper wondered. "Is it really that bad?"

"Well, just so you're prepared, he still looks pretty bad. He wasn't in good shape when we found him. But I don't want you to get too upset when you see him. He's gonna be fine."

"Tony, he was tortured for weeks and nearly beaten to death. Then after you found him only days ago, he almost died on the way to emergency surgery."

"Yeah, but my point is this: Clint Barton is tough. He's the strongest person I know... besides Thor and Captain America—and gods and super soldiers don't count."

"You're right," Pepper agreed. "Besides, he has to be here for his family now. If that doesn't give him strength, I don't know what will."

With a crack of thunder, Thor dropped from the sky. He beamed at Ms. Potts. "It is good to see you again, friend Pepper," he said, pulling her into a hug. Then he turned to Tony. "Have the others not arrived?"

"Not yet, but they should be here any minute." Tony noticed that Thor held a small package in one hand. "What's that?" he asked, pointing. "A present for Hawkeye?"

Thor nodded and held up the object in question. It looked like a paperback wrapped in plain brown paper. "A gift from Jane Foster," the god declared. "She also sends greetings to Pepper and the other Avengers."

"You know, she is welcome to visit anytime she—"

"There they are!" Pepper exclaimed, cutting Tony off. The quinjet carrying the rest of the team was flying low over the city, swooping gradually toward the landing pad a story below. Minutes later, they were all filing off the jet. Dr. Kirby came first, followed by Banner and Rogers, who were both carrying luggage for the doctor. Then Natasha carefully guided Clint's wheelchair down the ramp. He definitely looked much better than he had the previous week, but Tony was glad he had given Pepper a heads-up. Even after his reassurances, she looked more than a little concerned, her hand flying up to her mouth in alarm.

"Just some cuts and bruises," Tony whispered to her.

"And stitches and broken bones," she added, though even as she said it, she felt sure that Barton was no stranger to such injuries. He actually looked as though he didn't even notice his own poor condition. Pepper smiled at him as he was wheeled toward her, and he returned the smile shyly but without hesitation.

"It's good to see you, Pepper."

"Clint, I'm so glad you're okay. Welcome home!"


All of the Avengers were happy to be home. After a brief exchange beside the quinjet, they scattered to their own floors to settle in and relax a bit. Tony, Pepper, and Dr. Kirby took Barton to his room. The doctor started looking over the equipment, making sure everything was in order. Tony pushed Clint's wheelchair through the door and stopped dead in his tracks—Pepper was following and nearly collided with him. The room was simple, not too cozy, just Barton's style. But the top of the dresser and the window sill were lined with about half a dozen floral arrangements, and several cards lay unopened on the bedside table.

"You put flowers in his room?" Tony asked in disbelief.

"If he's going to be spending a lot of time in here, he might as well have some flowers to look at," Pepper retorted, brushing past him. "You know, that's what you do for people who are in the hospital, Tony."

"Yeah, for other people," he protested, "not Hawkeye. And he's not in the hospital. Wasn't that the point?"

"They're nice, Pepper," Clint interrupted quietly. "Thank you."

Pepper smiled warmly, then walked over to the baskets of flowers by the window. "They're not all from me," she said. "Those are." (She pointed to a brightly colored bouquet in a tall vase.) "And that basket is from Jane..." (She double-checked the card tucked in with the violet flowers.) "...oh, and Darcy. But, honestly, these are mostly from people in SHIELD, though some didn't give their names."

"Aww, I didn't know you had so many friends," Tony teased, pushing Clint over to the bed, "and probably secret admirers too. I'll bet Natasha's jealous." Clint ignored him; Pepper rolled her eyes.

Just then Natasha appeared in the doorway, and like usual, Clint wondered how long she had been listening. She didn't say anything about the flowers and cards though, just offered her hand and took his weight as he awkwardly got to his feet.

"Alright," Lee spoke up, clapping his hands together, "let's get you in bed. I want you to rest."

"Oh, come on," Barton argued, "Let me stretch my legs a bit, will you? I just got home."

"I know now that you're back, you'd like to return to your usual routine," the doctor said, "but life isn't going to be normal for you for some time. I need you to take it easy. I shouldn't have even let you fly here with a recently-punctured lung. But I did you a favor by letting you come home. Now I need you to meet me halfway and stay off that leg."

Clint sighed and nodded reluctantly. It took both the doctor and Tony to get him into the bed, but Natasha insisted that he would be moving about on his own in no time if he would just listen to the doctor. This earned her a resentful scowl from the archer. Once he was satisfied that his patient was going to stay put, the doctor retreated to his guest quarters down the hall.

"So," Pepper began, looking between Clint and Natasha, "I hear the two of you finally had a talk..."

Natasha nodded. "I told him," she said simply.

"And how did he take the news? I've got to know."

Tony smirked. He desperately wanted to blurt out that Clint had fainted. "He, uh… he took it pretty well," he said instead. His life currently depended on Natasha not learning that he had listened in on her private conversation with Clint. And Clint's cooperation in keeping that a secret depended on Tony never again bringing up his embarrassing reaction, even if the pain or drugs were to blame. "A bit of a shock, you can imagine... but a good one, right, Clint?"


Pepper excused herself after a time, promising Clint that she would make whatever he wanted for dinner. At the door, she nearly collided with Thor, who moved aside to let her pass, then took one step into the room and waited to be acknowledged. Clint waved him closer.

Thor cleared his throat, then said, "I visited Jane Foster before I came here."

"How is she?" Natasha asked.

"She is well. Right now, she is working on a project and cannot leave her research team, but she says she will visit as soon as possible."

"That would be nice," Clint said. All of the Avengers were quite fond of Jane. And they all thought that she and Thor made a good couple, though the god hesitated to actually call her his girlfriend.

"She sent a gift with me in the meantime," Thor said, holding up the parcel Clint and Natasha had both noticed him carrying when they arrived at the tower.

"For me?" Clint asked, a bit surprised.

Thor nodded and handed it over. He, Tony, and Natasha all watched with interest as Clint tore off the wrapping. It was a book, which Tony thought was not top on his list of things Clint might like.

But the archer seemed impressed as he studied the cover. "It's a guide for first-time fathers," he chuckled. "So Jane knows too, huh?"

"I did not tell her until after you were informed."

"I appreciate that," Clint said, flipping through the book.

"I'm sure he'll have plenty of time to read," Natasha said.

Clint smiled to himself. She was once again subtly pointing out that she would not let him leave this bed until the doctor granted permission. "Thor, if you talk to Jane before I get a chance, tell her I said thanks," Clint said. "She picked the perfect gift. I'm going to need all the parenting advice I can get."


Now that they were home, the team quickly fell into their usual routine—occupying themselves until the next time the world needed them. Natasha spent a lot of time with Clint, but now that he was getting better, he had an easier time convincing her to take care of herself as well. Others helped with this, taking turns bringing him meals and keeping him company.

On his second morning back at the tower, Tony and Pepper brought him breakfast. Their normal banter turned into a discussion about how a pregnancy would affect Clint and Natasha.

"They're both still trying to grasp what this means for the future," Tony told Pepper with a casual shrug. "But they'll figure it out."

"Neither of them seems too willing to talk about it."

"Neither of them is the type to share feelings."

"True. But Clint can't help commenting, whenever it comes up, that he was the last one to find out he's going to be a father," Pepper noted. "I wish he wouldn't—I know it makes Natasha feel guilty, and it's not all her fault things played out the way they did."

They stepped off the elevator onto Hawkeye's private floor and started down the hallway. Tony said, "I think he's still a bit hurt that he missed out on the first few months of the pregnancy. But at least he'll be here for the next six or seven."

Pepper nodded. "The first two months aren't that exciting anyway," she insisted. She stopped walking, and Tony halted beside her. "And if he hadn't missed them, if Natasha hadn't thought he was dead... well, I can't be sure she would have made the same choice."

"Don't say stuff like that around here," Tony warned with a cautious glance down the hall toward Barton's room.

The pair continued in silence to the door of Barton's room. It was slightly ajar, and Pepper pushed it open. Tony set the tray of breakfast beside Clint's bed. "Hey, buddy, time to wake up," he beckoned. "We brought pancakes!"

Clint's eyes opened instantly. "I'm more interested in hearing what you have to say than in eating," he said, studying the pair intently as he sat up in his bed.

"What do you mean?" Tony asked, confused.

"I heard you talking," Clint continued, and Tony mentally cursed the archer's exceptional hearing. "You know, I was under the impression that before I left, Natasha had been debating how to tell me she was pregnant. Now I'm thinking it was more a question of whether or not to tell me at all. So what's the story? What choice would Natasha have made if I hadn't been captured?"

"Uh, oh," Pepper breathed.

"Now you've done it," Tony muttered.

When no one answered him right away, Clint spoke again. "Was she going to hide this from me?"

"Pepper was just saying that if you had died back there, you would never have known about the baby," Tony tried, "because, you know... you'd be dead."

"That's not what she said."

"You know Natasha," Pepper replied. "She always has two or three back-up plans for every situation. So when she found out she was pregnant, she thought of every possible course of action. That doesn't mean she seriously considered all of them."

"I have a feeling she did."

"You have to put yourself in her shoes," Tony insisted.

"No. I don't. She has no excuse this time. This is one situation where her only option was clear from the start. I deserve to know about my own kid, and she had no right to even consider—"

"I know, Clint," Pepper soothed. "I agree with you. She was being selfish."

"Yes, she was."

"But," Tony said, "you can't blame her for just thinking—"

"Yes, I can."

Pepper sighed and shook her head. "I'm done trying to reason with him," she told Tony.

"Good," Clint said. "Just get out then."

"Come on, Clint..." Tony began.

"I mean it! Leave me alone."


Tony and Pepper decided that it would be best to keep quiet about what had happened and let Clint work this out in his own time. But it wasn't an hour before Lee Kirby caught up with Tony outside his lab.

"Stark! Do you want to tell me why I almost got hit in the face with a fork when I stepped into Barton's room?" the doctor demanded.

Tony did his best to look utterly blameless. "Why does everyone assume it's my fault when someone around here throws a tantrum?"

"As far as I know, you're the last person who spoke to him."

"Fair enough," Stark admitted. "Okay, so he may have overheard a comment implying that Natasha had considered hiding the pregnancy from him."

"Why the heck did you say that in front of him?"

"I didn't! It was Pepper. And in her defense, we were at the far end of the hallway and we thought Clint was asleep."

"Well, I've never seen him so angry," the doctor said. "I am not going in there again until he calms down. The guy has deadly aim, even throwing silverware from his bed."

"Just give him time to cool off," Tony suggested.


That afternoon, Jarvis interrupted Natasha as she was flipping through the channels on her TV. Clint, who had been the one to suggest that she spend a day relaxing on her own, was now requesting her presence. Without delay, the red-head went straight to the elevator. Once she got to Barton's room, she found the door wide open.

"Clint? What is it?" she asked, moving to where Clint sat propped up in bed, an untouched plate of pancakes still on the table beside him. He just stared straight ahead; she couldn't read his expression. "Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, actually," he said, keeping his voice a little too level. "I do." He turned toward her. "I need you to look me in the eye and tell me the truth for once."

Natasha reflexively took a small step back. "What's this about, Barton?" she asked warily.

"Were you really going to hide this pregnancy from me?"

Clearly, this was not what she had expected him to ask. And she didn't know how to respond, so she said nothing.

Her silence seemed to turn Clint's resentment into anger. "Were you?" he demanded.

Nat found her voice at last. "I don't know where you heard—"

"Doesn't matter," he said curtly. "It's true, isn't it?"

"If it was true that I wanted to hide it from you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"That's right!" Clint exclaimed as if he was just identifying this troublesome truth, though he had clearly been thinking about it for some time. "Lies come naturally to you. You're still a spy at heart. You can't help yourself, can you?"

Natasha shook her head. "Clint, you're the one person—"

"What's that? The one person you'd never lie to? Because you care. Is that what you're saying?" Natasha had no reply, but it didn't matter. Clint continued rambling almost hysterically. "But if you just... forgot to mention that I was a father, pretended it never happened... that might be okay, right?"

"No. I don't know. It was just... an option."

"It shouldn't have been."

Clint may have had a valid reason to be upset, but Natasha Romanoff did not take well to being told what she should or shouldn't do. "What did you expect?" she questioned him. "Was I supposed to be okay with this? Was I supposed to throw away my career and become a housewife? What right do you have to—"

"What right do I have?" Clint was sitting up now as if poised to jump from his bed, though he could never have managed it. "I am the father of that baby! And you thought what? That informing me was optional?" Natasha said nothing, but her fists were clenched. Clint continued, his voice a little more level now. "Do you want to know what I thought, Nat? I thought we were in this together."

"We are," Natasha said, taking another step back as she spoke. "That's the choice I made." She turned sharply, her fiery hair flying, and stomped toward the door. She stopped as she was halfway through the door and turned to look at him. "Don't make me regret it."

Clint's new book flew toward her head, but she was already gone. The paperback landed in the hallway with a thud. Clint knew that, try as he might, he would not be able to retrieve it on his own.