Author's Note: So here's chapter fifty! I lied when I said I was almost done with the story. I'm tweaking parts of it because I wasn't happy with how it was all going, but here's a chapter for you lovely readers who have been hanging around. I'm kind of happy with it as this is my third attempt at it, but I think this is now going in the direction I'm comfortable with.


Chapter Fifty

So far the trip was a success. Nothing terrible happened save for Remy nearly hitting Clint with a flaming marshmallow the first night. It caught her by surprise when it erupted into flames and she flung it out of the fire to blow it out. Unfortunately Clint was sitting right next to her and nearly got hit in the face. However, he was pretty fast in grabbing her hand to stop the movements. The flaming marshmallow was a few inches from his face before he took the liberty of blowing it out for her.

She gave him a kiss and made him a fresh s'more with a marshmallow that hadn't been a flaming inferno.

She was also sick in the morning, but she figured it was just being outside. Clint honestly did not understand that excuse at all, but he didn't want another argument about it so he just nodded and gave her a can of ginger ale when she was done throwing up behind a tree.

It was their second night now. The campfire had been out for a while and the night was so far peaceful. They had managed to zip their sleeping bags together so they could actually cuddle while they slept, and Clint appreciated that, finding it easier to sleep with his girlfriend in his arms.

He wasn't asleep just yet, to busy worrying about her throwing up these past few days. Since he was able to get cell service out here in the woods, he took the time to google pregnancy symptoms while Remy was fast asleep beside him. Thankfully the light of his phone didn't wake her up, but did make her mumble and bury herself further under their covers. Clint grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he waited for a site to load. He browsed it quickly, making note of the symptoms: vomiting, fatigue, some moodiness.

Well, shit.

Maybe she wasn't pregnant? Remy could be right, maybe she was just stressed, though Clint wasn't sure about what exactly. The move was over, he was more or less better from the New York events, and work seemed to settle down a bit. The only thing that came to mind was the Chimera Order, but they hadn't heard anything from those assholes for a while. He hoped they just gave up.

He cleared his browser history on his phone and tucked it under his pillow before burrowing under the covers, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Clint kept telling himself that everything would be fine and to not worry. They would head home tomorrow and everything would be back to normal.

Yea, right.


The next morning Clint woke up to Remy crawling desperately over him to leave the tent. He grunted when her knee landed in his stomach, and he did get a smack to the face as she unzipped the tent and rushed out, but he wasn't going to yell at her about it. Obviously she was in a rush to do… something. And by the sounds of it, that something was the same thing she'd been up to the last few mornings. With a sigh, he crawled out of the tent after her and grabbed a water bottle, heading over to where she was hunched over beside a tree.

"Here." He said, unscrewing the cap and handing her the bottle. She blindly reached for it, trying to keep herself upright against the tree. Clint pressed it into her hand before grabbing her hair, holding it back behind her as she dry heaved. "So do you… want me to call the doctor? We can head there after we pack up?"

She rinsed her mouth and spat out the water. "Maybe? Is there a doctor at SHIELD that is uh, normal?"

"Define normal, Remy." He teased, running his fingers through her hair carefully. "We work for a secret government agency."

"Normal in that they don't just deal with gunshot wounds and shit." Remy retorted as she wiped her mouth, looking back at him. "Like, what if something is wrong with me? Will they actually diagnose something?"

"Yes, babe." He assured her, giving her a kiss on the forehead before leading her back to the camp. "So sit down for a bit and I'll start packing up. Then we'll head back home."

Remy nodded and took a seat on a log, sipping the water as Clint crawled back into the tent to change into clothes. Grinning, she called over to him, "You know, it's just us out here. You can change outside."

Clint peeked out of the tent and stuck his tongue out at her before disappearing once more. She laughed, shaking her head as she sipped her water. A few minutes later Clint emerged, now in jeans and a hoodie. "You wanna change, or are you gonna stay in sweats?"

"I'm gonna stay in sweats. I don't feel like wearing jeans." Remy replied, looking him over as she bit down on her lip. "How do you make jeans and a hoodie look good? I mean, come on, Clint. How are you blessed like that?"

"It's a blessing and a curse." He said with a resigned sigh, shaking his head as he started rolling up the sleeping bags. Remy kept checking him out, grinning widely. "Okay, I can feel your eyes staring at my ass, Remy. It's kind of weird."

"Shut up." She grinned. "I wouldn't be complaining if you did it."

"No, you'd be shaking your ass and tempting me." He finished rolling up the sleeping bags and set them outside the tent. "Don't even try to deny it."

"Never." She teased, capping the bottle of water and getting up. "I feel up to moving around so I'll help you out."

"Aw, babe." Clint started packing up their bags. "You wanna just grab our cooking things?"

Nodding, Remy started grabbing the few dishes and utensils they brought along, stashing them into a canvas tote bag. Next she grabbed the skewers and pan, also putting them in the tote. Right then she was grateful they didn't bring a whole lot along with them on this trip. By the time she finished packing the cooking utensils, Clint had already taken down the tent and was packing it away. It only took maybe twenty minutes to tear down the camp, and after Clint helped Remy get her hiking boots on, they headed back to the car. It was only a few hours to get back home, and before starting the car up, Clint called up the SHIELD doctor he happened to have on speed dial (just because he had the tendency to get injured on missions, he found it easier to have one he could call directly). Remy reclined her seat back as he scheduled an appointment for her, which she was eternally grateful for. She didn't feel up to talking on the phone right then.

Once it was settled, Clint pocketed his phone and started the car up. "Doc said to just head on in when we get back to town."

"Look at you, gettin' the doctor to give me a walk in appointment." Remy teased as she buckled her seatbelt. "Is that a perk of being an Avenger or something?"

"Pfft, no. It's because I hurt myself all the goddamn time on missions so she's fine to let me walk on in." Clint replied as he steered the car down the dirt road. "So just take a nap or something, okay? And let me know if I need to pull over or something."

"Yea, yea, I will." She suddenly yawned and allowed herself to get comfortable in her seat. "Gonna nap, though. Wake me when we get there."


Both Remy and Clint stared at the posters hanging in the exam room they were seated in. At one point Clint squinted and tilted his head curiously as he studied one showing the weekly growth of a baby in the womb. Then he looked at Remy's stomach, only to get a gentle slap on the back of his head for that.

"Don't. That's just weird." She scolded, tugging at her t-shirt over her stomach. There was no reason for her to do that except more out of nervousness. She was terrified at the thought of being pregnant, but after sharing her symptoms to the nurse and the look the nurse gave Remy, well, fuck, that just made the agent more nervous.

"Ow, babe." Clint said with a pout, rubbing the back of his head. She rolled her eyes and reached over to run her fingers through his hair instead.

"Cliiiiiint, what if I'm pregnant?" She whined softly. "What am I gonna do?"

He shrugged, taking her hand in his. "You'll figure something out. I'll do whatever you need me to do, babe."

She nodded, biting down on her lip. "What if I don't keep the baby?" Her voice was quiet when she asked this, and Remy could feel Clint tense up beside her. After a few minutes of silence, he let go of her hand and put his arm around her.

"It's your choice, Remy." He replied, pulling her closer. It was a bit uncomfortable for the two of them seated in those chairs, armrests digging into their sides as they leaned into each other. But Remy managed to rest her head against Clint's chest before letting out a sigh.

"If I'm pregnant, I'm keeping the baby." Remy told him firmly; Clint relaxed. "And you're gonna be changing so many gross diapers, Clint Barton."

"Well, considering I got you into this…" He trailed off when there was a knock at the door and an older woman stepped in, holding a clipboard and mug. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the two.

"I honestly expected you to be the one injured, Agent Barton." She said as she set the mug down on the small desk in the room. "Not Agent Black."

"She's not injured, doc." He sighed. "But uh, maybe pregnant, like I said on the phone."

"Hm." The doctor narrowed her eyes as she looked Remy over. The agent just stared back at her. "If you don't mind getting up on the exam table, we'll get started."


The exam didn't take as long as Remy anticipated. In under two hours, she was out of the doctor's office, her purse packed with pamphlets and information about maternity leave. And when they got back to the apartment (after stopping to pick up lunch at the diner they liked), Remy hugged Steve and stuffed some money into his pocket. Clint took Lucky out for a walk while Remy walked Steve to his motorcycle, thanking him profusely for dogsitting.

That was one thing Remy thought she'd never do: thank Captain America for looking after her dog for a few days. But she figured it was one of those things that just proved how interesting her life had gotten over the last few months.

Plus, adding in that she just found out she was pregnant really proved it as well. Pregnancy was something Remy never thought would happen. Yes, she enjoyed sex and often had it (with it happening more frequently since she and Clint started dating), but she was always so careful. She always made sure her partner used a condom, just to be sure, but as she thought back to that night Clint left the psych ward and surprised her in her apartment, that was when they just stopped using them.

The doctor said Remy was about six or so weeks along. And as Remy thought about it, that was pretty accurate to when they stopped using condoms. No one was to blame – they just got lazy. Clint had all but tackled her to the bed that night and Remy forgot to tell him to use one.

"Why do you look like you're thinking really hard?" Clint asked, interrupting Remy's train of thought. She didn't even hear him come back into the apartment. Lucky pulled at the leash, excited to see her again. Once the door was shut and locked, Clint removed the leash, allowing the dog to run excitedly over to Remy, nearly slipping across the floor and into the table. Thankfully Remy was there to catch him.

"Just thinkin' about life." She replied, scratching Lucky behind the ears. Clint nodded understandingly as he headed to the table. The food was still hot, waiting to be eaten, so he grabbed two plates for them to have the food on. Remy immediately started eating her burger, having barely waited for him to hand her a plate. He rolled his eyes and sat down, dumping his fries and burger onto a plate before tossing a few fries to the dog.

"Hey." He began; she looked up, setting her burger on the plate before grabbing a napkin. He stole one of her fries and she raised an eyebrow. "I uh, want you to know that uh, I'm here for you? And that I wanna be around for the baby and help you and everything, since uh, I got you into this."

Remy nodded, listening to him as she stole a fry from his plate. "Thank you. I mean, I was kind of hoping you would, but at the same time I didn't… want to just assume anything. But thank you, Clint. It means a lot."

He grinned before taking a sip of his milkshake. Remy smiled back before she started eating again. They then ate in silence, the only noise being heard was the jingling of Lucky's license as he begged for food. Occasionally Clint slipped him a few fries while Remy just shook her head, mumbling something about the dog turning into a fry himself.

When Clint finished his food, he leaned back in his seat, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What are we gonna name the kid?"

"Well, since the baby is probably smaller than a jelly bean right now, it might be a little too early to think of names." Remy replied as she sipped her milkshake. "I mean, we can brainstorm, if you want, and throw ideas around, maybe lay down rules."

"Rules?"

"Like not naming the kid after one of our parents." Remy explained, shaking her head. "And I'm all for naming the kid in honor of someone like Nat or Phil, but I don't think I want the kid to share the name, you know?"

"Makes sense." Clint agreed with a nod. "Like, Roman or Cole?"

She grinned at that and nodded. "Exactly. Unless you want another Clint Francis Barton running around, we should try to do that."

"I don't think the world wants another Clint Francis Barton running around." Clint groaned, shaking his head. "I don't even want that."

Remy laughed at that, shaking her head. "I'm fine just having one Clint Francis Barton right now, hon."


Closing Note: Okay for the record, I never intended for Remy to get pregnant. But as the story went on and I thought about it, I dunno, it just worked? And yes, they are both very much like "Oh GOD a baby?!". Originally there was going to be a buttload of angst, but I realized that I really do not want that much angst so I toned it down a bit. There will probably be a little drama from here on out, but I plan to stick to the more 'humor' aspect of the story.

Also I have never been pregnant and last person I knew who was pregnant gave birth like, ten years ago, so that's why with the doctor scene I kind of just noped out of that because I didn't know what to write for it. Just imagine a lot of awkward pauses and confused looks shared between Clint and Remy.

So thank you for reading! I have 13 days left in the classroom and then I'll have my associates degree! And then I'm free to finish this story and work on the sequel! Aw yes.

Also? Current obsession is that cartoon Avengers Assemble! because of Clint Barton being Clint Barton.