Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Alana.
"Comrades: There is no stronger bond between men than those who served in combat."
Alana pressed her face into the side of Pietro's neck as he ran, tears fighting to fall from her eyes as the words she had thrown at Clint repeated over and over again in her mind.
"Some promise, wasn't it, Clint?" She saw the pure hurt flash through his eyes again. She hadn't known how betrayed she had felt about the situation until then, until she actually started talking about it.
The worst part was that she had meant it. Every word.
Her body shifted slightly, Alana gasping in pain. "Sorry." She barely heard Pietro, his voice getting caught in the wind around them.
Seconds later they stopped, Alana looking up and not really recognizing their surroundings. They were on top of mountain, the city now far off in the distance. Smoke rose from it, Alana shaking her head in dismay.
"You went after Banner?" Her voice was weak, and Pietro nodded as he placed her on the ground gently.
"That was the plan." Alana didn't like it, making Bruce change into the other guy. She knew the scientist didn't like it.
She couldn't really be mad at the twins for carrying out what she told them. Alana looked over, watching Wanda walk slowly out of the trees, looking slightly dazed. "The archer got me with an arrow." She explained on seeing Alana's worried expression.
Alana tried to grin, failing miserably, "He's not a fan of mind control."
The three sat in silence, looking out at the city as another building fell to the ground. It was Wanda who spoke up first, "What do we do now?"
Alana was still bleeding, her vision drifting in and out of focus. "Find somewhere safe. I don't know if they'd take us in, even if we come to help. B-but they'll go," She paused, taking in a few deep gulps of air, closing her eyes tightly once as her vision tilted slightly. "Imma pass out soon." She told the twins, "Barton's f-farm."
"The archer is a farmer?" Pietro was completely confused, which made Alana smirk.
She had been there before, quite a few times actually. Alana was one of the few who knew of Clint Barton's family. About Laura, about the kids. She'd spent holidays with them, celebrating some birthdays too. If the team couldn't go to New York, she knew Clint would take them there.
"Yeah, h-he'll tak'em there." Alana glanced at her hip, grimacing once more as even more of her vision went dark. "Follow." Her voice drifted at the end, her eyes falling completely closed as she succumbed to the darkness.
"Dad!" Clint bent down to scoop up his son as he ran into his arms, ignoring the shocked expressions of the rest of the team.
"Those are just…smaller agents." Tony glanced at Bucky, who stood beside him. The assassin shook his head, silently disagreeing with the billionaire.
"Is Aunty Nat here?" A little girl bounced up and down in excitement.
"Why don't you come ask her?" Natasha smiled as she gathered the girl into her arms, resting her on her hip. Clint turned to the rest of the team, who still looked shell shocked.
"Guys, this is Laura, my wife, and these are my kids." Clint wrapped an arm around Laura, "This is the team." She lifted a hand as a wave, feeling slightly out of place in her own home.
"Thank you for letting us stay, ma'am." Steve ducked his grin slightly, his gratitude genuine. Laura seemed to relax a bit more.
"Of course."
It felt awkward, being led around Barton's home; each Avenger being shown a room they could stay in for the duration of their visit. Thor left soon after their arrival, but it didn't really surprise anyone.
After he had showered Bucky wandered downstairs, finding himself in the living room and taking a spot on a well-worn couch. Steve and Tony were outside, helping chop firewood while Clint worked on repairing the porch railing.
It wasn't surprising that Bucky's thoughts drifted to Alana, his flesh hand coming up to rub the spot where her knife had been driven into his prosthetic. It had hurt, electric charges running through his whole body as the blade had severed some wires, but he had just yanked it out. Bucky thought he'd ask Tony to fix it up later that night, for now Bucky didn't mind the pain.
He glanced around the room, children's toys littering the rug and coffee table surface. Little knick-knacks that Bucky assumed Clint had acquired on his missions took up almost every shelf surface. When he saw the picture frames, Bucky stood up to get a closer look.
Of course he found Alana first. His flesh hand moved slowly as he picked it up, bringing it closer to his face for closer inspection. She was sitting crossed legged on a carpet, and a quick glance was enough for Bucky to see it was in the very living room he stood in. Clint's son was in her lap, Alana laughing at the little boy as she held his wrists in each of her hands. There was laughter not only on her face, but in her eyes.
They were brighter than he'd ever seen them, clearer in a way. Given that the boy in her lap was only a toddler, Bucky guessed the photograph had been taken years ago.
"That was nine years ago." The sudden voice to his right made Bucky's whole body go rigid, his head snapping up to see Clint's wife standing in the doorway. At his reaction, she placed a hand apologetically over her chest, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."
Bucky let out a breath, "That's alright ma'am. Didn't hear you walk up is all." His response surprised her, mostly because she thought he would just nod. She took it as an invitation to step closer to the super soldier, smiling when she could see more of the picture.
"It was the first time Clint brought her here. She and Cooper hit it off right away." Bucky looked back at Alana's face in the picture. Laura was quiet for a moment before speaking up, "I like to think I know her pretty well," She offered, gaining Bucky's attention again, "And if what Clint told me is true, then she'll come back. She's not one to abandon people she cares about." At Bucky's bewildered expression she let out a laugh. "Clint told me she's alive."
"Isn't that classified?"
"I'm his wife. Tells me everything." They shared a soft smile before Laura reached up for another picture, bringing it down and showing Bucky. It was one of Alana in their front yard, Clint's daughter riding on her back as Cooper chased after them. "This was a few years later. I think she's twenty-five in this picture. Both Lila and Cooper adore her."
She was wearing a long sleeved flannel, the picture catching her mid-stride as Lila had her small hands buried in the assassin's long hair. Again, she was laughing, her smile so wide that dimples could be seen on her cheeks.
"Do they know?" Bucky asked in a quiet voice, surprised again when the woman nodded. He looked at her, tilting his head a bit in silent question.
"Their father is an Avenger. We didn't tell them the whole truth. Just that there had been a mix-up and Alana had just been kept away again."
"Kept away?"
Laura nodded somberly, "That's what we told them when she was in Batswana. Didn't want to, but kids are pretty perceptive, they knew something was wrong. It just stuck." Bucky's eyes drifted over the rest of the array of photographs. Most were of just the kids, though some were of Clint and Laura. Natasha was in a number of them, and then there were more of Alana. "She really is like family." Bucky's lips pulled up slightly, "She just." Laura paused, searching for the right words to say, "She deserves so much more."
Bucky smiled, putting the photograph back down carefully. "Yeah," He agreed, "She does."
The Avengers were all eating dinner when there was a knock on the front door. Everyone, including the kids, were suddenly very still. The light-heartedness that had been in the air disappearing as soon as the two thuds reverberated throughout the house.
"Was anyone expecting company?" Tony tried to joke, but Clint's face was still somber. He always tried to avoid bringing his family into his work. It was his number one priority.
So there was no humor in his voice when he answered shortly, "No." Clint turned to his wife, trying to offer a gentle smile. It faltered when two more knocks sounded. "It'll be alright." The archer pushed his seat back, standing up from the table to make his way to the front door. The blinds had already been closed for the night, so he couldn't see who was there.
Clint paused when his hand was on the doorknob, wondering – for a brief moment – if it could just be someone from town. But his gut told him that would be too much of a coincidence with the Avengers being there.
Taking a short breath, Clint opened the door, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the silver haired man who stood there. Clint's hand was already halfway to the knife he hid above the doorway when he saw the look in Pietro's eyes.
The boy was scared.
Seeing Barton's quick movements, the Sokovian held out his hands, "Please. I mean no harm."
"Barton-" Clint glanced back to see Steve standing in the doorway, the Captain ending his sentence when he saw Pietro. "What'd you want, kid?"
"That's what I was just gunna ask'em, Rogers." Both men looked to Pietro expectantly.
"It's not easy to explain. But," He turned, pointing a hand quickly to the barn, "My sister is in the barn, hope you do not mind." His words came out faster as he tried to explain, his English not the best in the world, but both Steve and Clint understood. "We tried to help her but," Pietro shook his head.
"Out with it!" Natasha had joined the party, standing just behind Clint now. She didn't like having the enhanced – who they just fought against – so close to Clint's family. Literally on his front porch.
"Alana is hurt. Bad. She will not wake up." Bucky had started to get up from the table when he heard Natasha, and at Pietro's words he was spurred into action.
Steve caught his arm as he went to shove by, clearly about to head to the barn. The Captain held Bucky in place with a glance, "Why should we help you?"
Pietro's eyes widened, "She is your friend. Isn't she?"
"She just fought a battle against us." Natasha pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest, "So did you and your sister." Pietro shook his head.
"No, I mean, yes, yes we did." He ducked his chin once, "But Alana's plan. The whole time. I-" He huffed, "Please help her, she can explain if she wakes up."
That was enough for Clint, the archer pushing past Pietro and heading in the direction of the barn. Natasha followed her partner, but when Bucky went to move forwards, Steve caught his arm. "Let this be between them for now." His voice was low, and his words made Bucky's jaw tense slightly.
He wanted to see her. He hadn't forgiven her, he wasn't sure when he'd do that, but he was worried. Bucky still cared about her, he wanted to help. "It was always just them, Buck, for the longest time." Steve's gaze drifted to one of the picture displays, as though to explain himself.
Bucky let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging in silent acceptance. He turned to Laura, who stood just behind them, "Do you need help with the dishes, ma'am?"
Outside, Clint and Natasha shouldered past the door into the barn. Wanda's head snapped up at the sound, a sigh of relief escaping her when she noticed who it was. Alana was lying a top a blanket in front of the younger woman, her head on a blanket they had found on one of the work benches.
Natasha strode up to Alana's still body quickly, kneeling down and pressing her fingers to the side of Alana's neck. The redhead glanced up at Barton, "She's alive. I just don't understand," Natasha shook her head, "She was only shot. She's been through worse and came out fine."
"They did…experiments on her." Wanda supplied, her lips pulling down into a frown, "While we were together. Tested why her genes were different. Said they wanted to extract it."
Clint was shaking his head, "S.H.I.E.L.D tried that, after she fell into that plant. Said it was impossible."
"They did not have the scepter, yes?" Pietro had a point. Clint and Natasha exchanged a worried glance, Natasha moving her hands down to lift up Alana's shirt, getting a closer look at the entry wound that the bullet had inflicted. "We took bullet out." Natasha nodded, removing the makeshift bandage that had been taped over the wound.
"Did she pass out before that?" Wanda nodded in answer to Clint' question. "Alright, when she passes out she's usually out longer than…unenhanced people…but if they ran tests on her."
There was a soft knock, everyone looking over to see Bruce lingering by the entrance to the barn. "She should be put on fluids." He told them, his hands wringing together in front of his body. Bruce looked to Wanda and Pietro, "Hello."
"Hey, kid." Pietro looked up at Clint, "How'd you know where this place was?"
"She told us. Said you may help. We never," He paused, "We never planned to help Ultron completely. He promised us peace, but Alana did not trust him. We planned to help you, but Ultron's army was bigger than we thought."
"You were just trying to stay alive in there?" Natasha didn't seem like she fully believed the story, "Then why play with our minds?"
"If you were not rattled, he would have known." Wanda dipped her head, "I am sorry. It was not easy." Their confused expressions made her explain, "I see it too."
"Let's get her inside." Clint slowly started to gather Alana into his arms, looking to Natasha as he did so, "Can you make sure the kids are busy? I'll put her in the spare room next to mine." The Russian nodded, moving almost silently out of the barn to go back to the house. Barton looked to the Sokovians next, his mouth twisting slightly, "Thanks, uh," He didn't trust them, didn't know them well enough to invite them into his home.
Wanda seemed to understand, "We can stay in your ship," She nodded in the direction of the quinjet, "if that is alright."
Clint paused, looking back at the house and seeing Steve standing out on the porch. The archer inclined his head towards the twins, the Captain nodding before he started to make his way towards the group. "Cap'll go with you. Tell him what happened." Clint only waited long enough for the twins to agree before striding towards the house, pausing only a moment when the Captain reached out to rest his hand briefly on Alana's forehead.
Clint Barton was careful not to jostle Alana too much as he walked up the porch and into the house. He could hear Laura upstairs with the kids, on the opposite end of the house that he was taking Alana too. The kids didn't need to see Alana like this; she wouldn't want them too.
Bucky stood in the kitchen with Tony, his eyes finding Alana's still body in Clint's arms when the two came into the house. His chest clenched, but he didn't go to move towards her at all. "Barton-" Tony's voice was filled with concern as well, taking on a tone that the Avengers didn't hear very often.
Clint didn't even pause, he kept moving towards the stairs, "She's gunna be fine."
Alana woke up only seven hours later, an IV stuck in her arm and wool blankets covering her body. Bruce had cleaned out the bullet wound before rewrapping it properly.
Her hip still ached when she came back to consciousness, but she gave no physical indication of it. She didn't open her eyes or adjust her breathing until she recognized the sound of Clint's pacing.
Natasha was sitting by her side in a rocking chair, the Russian smiling softly at Alana when her eyes opened. "Hey," Clint was by her side in the next second, a relieved breath passing his lips.
Alana didn't smile back, didn't know what to say to either of them. "You really stayed out pretty long for a gunshot." To anyone else Clint's words were a bad attempt at poorly timed humor, but it meant more to Alana.
They weren't mad at her.
Her voice was hoarse when she replied, "I just like to be dramatic."
"Well," Natasha rolled her eyes, "Lay off the theatrics for a bit." Alana saw the shift in her eyes, giving away that the next questions wouldn't be as light hearted, "What do you remember?"
Her answer came out in a whisper, "Everything." Alana wished she didn't remember any of it.
The betrayal she had seen in Bucky's eyes replayed over and over again, like a broken record whenever she blinked. Alana couldn't take it, couldn't take the pain or the expectations. A few tears escaped without her consent, rolling down her cheeks.
Natasha wiped them away gently, not commenting on them as the younger agent spoke, her voice choked, "I, I can't. Tasha, I can't." The Russian ran a hand over Alana's forehead, pushing her hair back.
"It's fine, младшая сестра." The red-head smiled softly, Alana's gaze softening as she said the nickname that hadn't been used for years.
Clint reached over, taking a hold of Alana's hand and squeezing it.
The three of them had been to hell and back together. More times than any of them cared to count.
Alana clutched to his hand like a vice, "After all this," Her gaze met Natasha's and Clint's in turn, "After. I'm done." Her throat closed up again, her next words coming out in a whisper, "Does that make me selfish?"
"No." Natasha's tone left no room for argument, "No one will judge you for hanging up the belt. If they do," The Russian shrugged, "I'll take care of them."
They were silent for a minute, a few more tears slipping from Alana's eyes, Natasha wiping each one away. "Where's everyone else?"
"Twins are in the quinjet," Clint let her know, "Everyone else's asleep. Well," his head inclined towards the door, "Bucky and Steve take turns waking up and pacing the hallway."
Alana's eyes softened, "Steve," Her thoughts were of immediate concern. She had been his first friend waking up from the ice, and she'd just betrayed him. Another promise broken, "How's he?" Her words caught at the end, Alana grimacing as she started coughing. A quick look from Natasha sent Clint out of the room and downstairs to get a glass of water.
Natasha waited for Alana's coughing fit to end before answering, "He'll be alright. We're all a bit rattled."
"Natasha, I'm sorry." Alana's words were pleading, "I'm so sorry." The red-head covered her mouth with a hand before she could apologize more.
"You did what you thought was right," She ignored Alana's shaking head, "What you had to to survive." Her hand found Alana's, squeezing it tightly. "We'll get you outta this. Just like we always do. Besides," She smirked at the younger agent, "When has STRIKE: Team Delta ever failed?"
Alana let out a soft laugh, Clint walking quietly back into the room, a glass of water in hand, "Budapest, Syria, Oman, those are just off the top of my head." Natasha made a face, rolling her eyes at the archer.
"Those were all your fault, Clint."
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