A/N: Hello, everyone! Here we go with the next installment for this month's theme of 'fathers.' Last time we looked at Bruce, and now we're looking at Clint. :)

And this is totally not based off of an iCarly episode I saw last weekend for the first time in a couple of years. What? That's crazy. Speaking of 'crazy,' this chapter title was taken from the song, "I'll Go Crazy if I Don't Go Crazy Tonight" by U2. The animated music video of the song (which is really cute) actually inspired some of this chapter! Also... I SAW U2 IN CONCERT LAST WEEKEND. YES. JUST. YES. Please excuse me while I cry...

Thanks for all the faves, follows, and reviews, guys! WE PASSED 230 FAVES AND 200 FOLLOWS WOOOOOOO! YOU GUYS ROCK! Now, just gotta pass 300 reviews, and we'll be even more awesome! In observance of this nice, even-numbered milestone, I invite you to splurge and buy something nice for yourself or something today. Hooray!


Clint stifled laughter at the sight of Maggie running by, rushing through the penthouse with her mother's Widow's Bites clutched tightly to her chest. The twenty-five year old had a mission she needed to leave for, like, now, and appeared to be trying to sneak a top-tier weapon in with her.

As expected, Natasha was following, not too far behind her jittery daughter. She stopped by the couch Clint was currently occupying with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. "Лапушка, what are you doing?"

Maggie turned toward the archer and spy with a nonchalant expression from across the room, trying (and failing) to discreetly hide the gloves behind her back. "Trying to leave for my mission. I just, uh, needed some extra fire-power, you know? So, like, bye."

Now, Maggie was trying to make her getaway, hastily grabbing the duffel bag that had been placed beside the elevator on her way. Unfortunately, as the doors opened, she hadn't anticipated Steve to emerge, nearly knocking her over.

"Ah! Not the Widow's Bites!" Maggie cried as she dropped her bag and Natasha's signature weapon to the floor from the sudden jostling. Steve just raised his blond eyebrows, looking neither surprised nor shocked at Maggie's thievery.

"Were you really trying to steal Mama's gloves for your mission?" he questioned, his eyes and head following her sudden movement as she darted behind him. Looking up again, he noticed an irate Natasha walking toward them, picking her Widow's Bites up with an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, she was," she informed him. "Your daughter is a kleptomaniac."

Steve's eyebrows remained higher than normal. "My daughter?"

"Yes, your daughter." Natasha eyed him sharply.

Meanwhile, Maggie tried to reach around Steve for her duffel bag, which was sitting on the ground between her parents, aiming for a sneaky escape from being chewed out by Natasha. Successfully grabbing the straps and pulling it toward her, she silently cheered, but was cut off as Natasha snatched the entire bag away from her. Steve stepped out of the way, revealing Maggie, who was trying to appear casual and not like she was up to something (it never worked, but she tried, anyway).

"This," the spy gestured with her eyes toward the bag in her hands, "belongs to you." She handed Maggie her bag. "These," she held up her Widow's Bites, "belong to me."

Maggie pouted. "But they're so cool!"

"And they're mine, so, be jealous," Natasha returned with a smirk.

Clint watched the exchange, amused, as he usually did. Steve just looked on, exasperated, between the two hotheads that inhabited his life daily in the form of his partner and daughter. Clint couldn't help but laugh a bit at that.

It was also nice to see that the events at the playground a few months prior, where Natasha and Maggie had gone up against HYDRA and Alexei Shostakov, didn't have any long lasting negative effects on the small family. If anything, it only seemed to have strengthened their bond, which always warmed Clint's heart a little bit.

"I've used them before! And I was pretty good with them, if I do say so myself." Maggie flipped her hair over one shoulder, placing her hands on her hips with a confident stance. "So why can't I borrow them?"

Maggie's questioning pulled Clint out of his thoughts, as he watched her fight for the rights to Natasha's precious electric gloves. He could say, from personal experience, Natasha did not share those things easily, if even at all.

"Because maybe I'll need them for some world crisis while you're gone," Natasha pointed out, and now she was the one clutching them to her chest, Clint noted with a chuckle. "You never know when the Avengers call will sound."

The younger agent huffed, dismissing Natasha's reasoning with a wave of her hand. "Fine, whatever, I don't want your stupid taser bracelets anyway," she tried to brush her mother off, throwing the strap of her duffel bag over her shoulder. Natasha just rolled her eyes. "I should probably get going, so Skye doesn't kill me or anything."

"Stay safe," Steve immediately advised, catching her in a quick hug that was warmly reciprocated. Natasha followed suit next, giving Maggie's cheek a kiss as well, and some affectionate and assuring words in Russian.

"We'll see you in a few days," Natasha said, an optimistic smile lighting her face. Maggie nodded with a mock salute, before turning toward Clint's approaching form.

As soon as she had started talking about her mission, he stood from the couch to give her a farewell hug, just as Steve and Natasha had. However, Maggie initiated the embrace, throwing her arms around his neck enthusiastically. "See you soon, Uncle Clint!"

"Yeah, see you soon," he echoed in agreement, patting her back as he wrapped his arms around her for a few moments. Upon release, he gave her a hard stare. "And you better come back in one piece, completely unscathed. Got it?"

"Got it, Uncle Clint. I'll be careful." She laughed a bit as she turned back toward the elevator, her now much shorter red curls swinging a bit from the movement. Her hair had grown back a bit since her epic and spontaneous cut at the Playground months before, now actually touching her shoulders, but still had a way to go to reach their previous length.

"I love you all, now, farewell," she announced with an epic wave of her hands and bow, which was a bit over dramatic for the occasion in Clint's opinion, as she boarded the elevator and the doors closed. The three Avengers stood on the other side, watching and waving back.

As soon as the elevator began its long descent, Natasha sighed, looking down at the Widow's Bites still in her hands. "One of these days, she's going to make it out of here with these."

"I told you, your daughter is a kleptomaniac," Steve quipped, his expression completely serious as he walked away, down the hall Natasha and Maggie had originally emerged from. Natasha looked after him, her glare as sharp as ever.

"She inherits that from you," Natasha shot back as she trailed behind him, probably to return her beloved weapon to its rightful (and locked up) location. Clint just shook his head in a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

He sauntered back over to the couch, lying back on it with a sigh. These days felt much slower than any others he had lived before, and, as much as he denied it, aging was definitely a contributing factor. He still worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. and went on missions every now and then, yeah - but, he just moved… Slower now. It was frustrating and kind of sad, because he couldn't operate on the front lines as much anymore.

Which meant he couldn't look over Maggie in the field as much as he'd like - that irritated and worried him constantly. Especially given what happened to her months before. Ever since then, he waited for her to return from missions more nervously than ever.

Honestly, Clint missed the days when everything had been simple. Well, nothing had ever really been simple with them, they're Avengers, after all - but, when things had been simpler, and Maggie just needed someone to make her food or tie her shoes.

Eventually, Clint dozed off on the couch.


The ding of the elevator woke him some time later, lacking a vocal announcement of the newcomer from JARVIS. Clint thought that to be curious as he sat up, rubbing his eyes, and turned his head toward the sudden intruder.

When he caught sight of her, he had to do a double take.

She didn't say anything as they made eye contact, simply walking from the elevator and up to the couch, a light expression on her face. He eyed her curiously, convinced he was asleep and dreaming.

There was no other explanation for how he would be able to see seven year old Maggie Rogers silently standing in front of him.

He could tell what age she was based on her appearance. She was wearing an Avengers shirt, one that had become an immediate favorite for her right after her seventh birthday, during which she had received the clothing item from Darcy. And, Clint noticed, the arrow necklace he had given her that same year was resting on the fabric of her shirt, shining a bit each time it caught a ray of sunlight.

Little Maggie was still staring at him, her eyes burning into his. He blinked, and she mirrored the gesture.

"Um…" he began, not really sure what to say. "Hi."

Suddenly, she grinned, and just as quickly as that happened, she turned and ran. Clint, baffled, barely managed to stand and take one step toward her before she bolted down one of the hallways. With a small groan, he gave chase after her, thinking this was a very strange dream he must be having.


Pepper sighed as she laid her hands on her desk, the appendages exhausted from all the writing and sifting through files and just plain work she had been doing all morning. Tony had been suggesting lately she go on more breaks, which she had taken with a smirk because, really, workaholic Tony Stark advising her to take breaks? Talk about hypocritical.

Looking up from the seemingly countless papers sitting on her desk, she noticed the door to her office was slightly ajar. She must not have closed it all the way, she figured, so the air probably pushed it open.

Deciding to use that as a distraction and break, she walked from her desk and up to the doorway to close it. Wrapping her fingers around the knob, the sound of hurried footsteps caught her ears.

Opening her door a bit wider, she watched as Clint suddenly ran by, yelling something about someone coming back to him.

"Maggie, come on, knock it off! Come back here!" he called, watching the tiny redhead turn random corners and run down their corresponding halls. "Don't make me have to catch you!"

Honestly, he doubted he could catch her. Twenty years ago, yeah, it would have been child's play, because he had the stamina for it, and Maggie lacked this much focus and carefulness when running around. Today, she seemed to have both endless energy and precision, as she had yet to run into anything, which was something she used to do a lot.

"Clint!" The sudden call of his name caught him off guard, as Clint skidded to a stop, nearly crashing into a wall. He frowned as Maggie looked back at him with a laugh before turning down another corner.

Taking in his surroundings now, he realized he had somehow followed her to a much lower level of the tower, where Pepper's office was located, which explained her approaching figure.

"Clint, what are you doing?" she questioned him, looking confused. "Why are you running around?"

"I, uh…" he stammered, scratching the back of his head, uncertain. Should he tell Pepper that a seven year old Maggie Rogers was now running around the tower?

Hearing her giggle again, he turned at the sound, catching sight of her staring at him from around the corner she had just turned at. Clint groaned a bit.

Pepper raised her eyebrows. "Clint? Care to explain?"

Oh, what the hell, he thought.

"Maggie's here," he answered shortly, but then realized how uninformative and vague it was. "Wait, no, let me amend that - seven year old Maggie is here, running around, and I'm trying to catch her."

"Seven year old Maggie?" Pepper questioned, staring at him in disbelief. "Clint, in case you've forgotten, Maggie is twenty-five years old-"

"See! She's over there!" He pointed at the corner she had just been peeking her head around, but then frowned at her sudden absence.

"Um, I don't see anything," Pepper answered, looking back and forth between Clint and the empty space, concern written all over her face. "Should I be seeing something?"

"She just ran down the hall," Clint sighed, exhaustion evident in his voice. "Look, I gotta go, I gotta… Catch her."

Before Pepper could ask him to clarify, Clint was back at it, running after Maggie. Or, at least, running after this 'apparition' of Maggie.

With a curious and exasperated shake of her head, Pepper walked back to her office, deciding to put off dealing Clint's weird behavior until later.


On the communal floor, Clint caught Maggie sitting on the counter, silently drinking from a juice box she must have retrieved from the fridge. He sighed gratefully.

"You're done running, thank God," he said, stopping a few feet in front of her to catch his breath. He smiled up at her. "I swear, any farther, and I think I would collapse."

Maggie didn't respond, simply continuing to watch him as she sipped her juice. Clint took that as an invitation to get closer.

"Now, then, where on Earth did you come from?" he wondered aloud, looking her up and down. From all the running and tripping and crashing, it was clear that Clint wasn't dreaming. Somehow, this was all real, and seven year old Maggie was appearing to Clint for some reason. Somehow.

He walked up closer, stopping just in front of the counter. "Are you even from Earth? A different dimension, maybe? Did you get your hands on an infinity stone, or something-"

Suddenly, she shrieked, right in his ear. Ah, yes, how could Clint forget - Maggie had gone through a short 'scare the living shit out of everyone by screaming in their ear unexpectedly' phase when she was seven. (It was quickly shut down by an irate Natasha, thank God.) Apparently, this Maggie was from that exact period of her life.

And, from surprise, Clint fell backward to the floor on his back, having not expected that at all. Because, really, that had been a brief period of time during Maggie's seven year old days. Brief. So, the chances of this Maggie doing that right here and now were slim.

He groaned, his ear protesting in pain at the sudden torture. Instinctively, he reached a hand up to the poor body part, making sure it and its respective hearing aid were still in tact. Meanwhile, Maggie hopped off the counter, and made a quick dash for one of the halls - Clint couldn't tell which because he was too busy writhing in pain.

Finally sitting back up with another groan, he saw her juice box left on the counter, abandoned. Because of the sudden scare, he missed the sound of the elevator doors opening, and a person walking out and up to him.

"Clint?" It was Steve, who just looked confused as to why Clint was sitting alone on the ground with a lone juice box on the counter above him. The leader of the Avengers stopped in front of Clint's defeated form with a curious expression. "Should I even ask?"

With a huff, Clint pushed himself upward, off the ground, to a standing position. He grabbed the counter with a hand for assistance in balancing himself after having his brain and senses completely disoriented by Maggie's scream. "No, honestly, you shouldn't. You really shouldn't."

How was he supposed to explain to Maggie's father that a much younger Maggie was somehow running around the tower wreaking havoc?

"You sure?" Steve tilted his head to one side, questioning Clint's frazzled appearance. "You don't look so good."

"Never been better," Clint sighed, grabbing the empty juice box. "Really, Cap, I'm fine."

Steve looked as if he didn't believe Clint for a few more moments, but dropped it. "Well, if you feel bad, Bruce is here today if you need anything."

Not a bad idea, Clint silently commented, thinking of how Maggie had been able to pass through the tower for so long undetected. He had checked a lot of security footage on his way back up from Pepper's office, and found her on none of it. It was very strange, and that could only mean one thing:

Clint was seeing things.

"Anyway," Steve continued, breaking Clint out of his thoughts, "I came up here to tell you that Nat and I are about to leave for a mission. We should be back the day after Maggie."

With a nod, Clint offered him an encouraging smirk. "Alright. Good luck, Steve, and, stay safe out there."

"Planning on it," Steve agreed, pulling Clint into a quick, amicable embrace before turning back toward the elevator. "Nat told me to tell you 'goodbye' for her."

"Tell her I'll see her soon," Clint offered in return as Steve disappeared into the elevator with one last hand wave.

After Steve was gone, and he had disposed of Maggie's empty juice box, Clint sat down at the dining table with a sigh. A few moments of mental debating and thinking passed before he fished his phone out of his pocket, and dialed for Bruce to meet with him.


Planning to meet with Bruce the following day, Clint saw Maggie a few more times before then. She would pop in every once in a while, just to stare at Clint, before running off again any time he got close to her (she even sat on top of the goddamned fridge while Clint was getting a drink at one point in the night, casually staring him down; he screamed in surprise and woke up half the tower, and she giggled at his misery, as expected). It was very strange, as Maggie hadn't actually spoken a word to Clint, which completely went against her normally chatty and outgoing nature. Clint could have sworn at some point she crawled up in his bed with him while he was sleeping, but, by the time he opened his eyes, she was gone.

When Bruce arrived just after breakfast, he instructed Clint to lie back on the couch, and took a seat in the chair next to him with a curious expression.

"Now, then, Clint, what's bothering you?" he asked as they settled, watching Clint peer around the room nervously before finally relaxing.

"Honestly, I have no clue," Clint answered honestly, staring up at the ceiling. "Do you know if Asgardian and Infinity Stone mind-control magic have long-term side effects? Because, so far, that's the only theory I've got."

"For what?" Bruce asked for clarification.

"It's really weird, and Pepper thinks I'm crazy for it," Clint sighed. "But, ever since Maggie left for her mission yesterday, I've been… Seeing things."

"'Seeing things'?" Bruce echoed, eyebrows raised. "Could you be more specific?"

"I see… Well, I see her. But not, like, present-day her. The Maggie I keep seeing running around is seven," Clint explained, sounding just as baffled as his explanation. "And no one else sees or hears her, so I have no idea what the hell is going on."

Bruce nodded thoughtfully for a moment. "Ever since Maggie left yesterday, how have you been feeling?" he inquired. "Aside from winded and confused by this second, younger Maggie, of course."

Clint shrugged. "Nervous. Anxious. The usual stuff, you know. It's kind of scary to think our niece is out there fighting bad guys on her own now, you know?"

"I do," Bruce agreed earnestly. "It's terrifying."

"Yeah."

"Anything else?"

"Well…" Clint mulled it over for a few moments, before deciding to voice it. "I guess I'm also worried because I have no control over what happens to her now. Like, I'm not with her in the field, so I can't do anything to ensure her a safe homecoming."

Bruce didn't immediately reply, seeming to be thinking over Clint's confession. The archer gave a defeated sigh.

"So, tell me, Bruce: am I crazy?"

To Clint's surprise, Bruce actually smiled, and gave a chuckle at the question. That was a good sign, right?

"No, no, you're not crazy," Bruce clarified, making Clint sigh in relief. "Your mind just created a physical manifestation of your worries."

"What?" Clint sat up, looking at Bruce with a confused expression. "I'm imagining Maggie because I'm worried about her?"

"Simply put, yes." Bruce nodded. "Basically, you miss being able to take care of her. You miss knowing what she was doing all the time because she was doing it right in front of you. She's off living her own, independent life now, and your mind is trying to cope with that change by recreating Maggie when she was young and vulnerable, so you can watch over her again."

"Wow." Clint blinked, a bit overwhelmed by the information Bruce had just offered him. "So, then, why can't I catch her? She keeps running away before I can so much as touch her."

"Catching her will be like facing reality, I'd imagine," Bruce guessed. "The moment you'd touch her, the image would be revealed to be, well, an image, and not real."

That made sense to Clint. "When will she be gone? Is this permanent?"

On one hand, he really hoped it would last a while, because his mind had definitely hit the mark on this one: Clint did miss taking care of Maggie, and interacting with her younger self. Of course he still loved modern, older Maggie - but that didn't mean he didn't long for the lost days when all she needed in life was her godfather to love and protect her.

On the other hand, he really hoped she would leave soon, because all she did was run around and scream, and it was starting to exhaust him. If she wasn't going to talk to him, that made it a lot less fun.

"I think once Maggie - the real Maggie - comes back, she'll leave," Bruce assured him. "It'll all work out in the end."

Clint sighed gratefully. "Thank you, Bruce."

"I'm just glad I can help. Trust me, you're not the only one still having a hard time adjusting to Maggie growing up."


Clint wanted nothing more than to just go to bed. But, unfortunately, a finger poking his cheek wouldn't let him.

He groaned, trying to turn away, but opened his eyes at the sound of giggling. Lo and behold, standing in front of him, beside the couch he was lying on, was little Maggie.

Older, real Maggie had texted him earlier when she was back at S.H.I.E.L.D., telling him she'd be back in a couple of hours. So, naturally, Clint decided to wait out for her, as he took up residence on the couch in the main room of the communal floor.

The seven year old was smiling still when Clint looked at her, and he sighed, trying to reach a hand out to touch her, knowing it would shoo her away.

Surprisingly, it didn't.

Maggie simply met his hand with one of her own, palm meeting palm as if comparing the different sizes of their hands. She still didn't say anything, but her face grew more serious as she made eye contact with him. Apparently, Bruce's theory hadn't been exactly right; Clint was touching her now, but she wasn't evaporating into thin air, or anything. Maybe it meant, then, that they were nearing the end of this whole thing. If real Maggie was here, her presence would dismiss that of imaginary Maggie; was this the little Maggie's way of saying goodbye?

The tender moment was ruined, though, as JARVIS announced a certain 'Ms. Rogers' to be on her way up via elevator. The announcement caused little Maggie to laugh and suddenly pull Clint off the couch.

He yelped in surprise, but quickly hopped onto his feet to chase the tiny, redheaded mischief maker. She made a face at him as she turned and ran toward the elevator on the opposite side of the room, Clint in hot pursuit.

At the last moment, though, she turned and darted in a different direction, to the kitchen, as she had been mere inches away from the opening elevator doors. Clint, meanwhile, was not as precise in his running, and ended up barreling into the newcomer.

Said passenger of the elevator, as expected, was older Maggie. Luckily, she was strong enough to not fall backward when Clint ran into her, but she did gasp a bit in surprise.

"Ow, goddamn, Uncle Clint, where's the fire?" she questioned as she pushed him back up to full height, and took a step back for some room.

Something passed over Clint's expression for a bit, but then he suddenly looked enlightened. "Maggie, you're back!"

She looked at him, confused by his behavior. "Uh, yeah… Why are you-oof!"

Before she could finish, Clint had wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her into a constricting embrace. She weakly returned the hug, patting his back curiously, as he pressed a kiss to her hairline.

"I missed you," he admitted, loosening his grip on her for a moment so he could ruffle her hair with his hand. She giggled a bit at the gesture, finally managing to break out of his grasp.

"I missed you, too," she returned, though confusion was evident in her voice. They took advantage of the brief break in conversation to finally exit the elevator, moving to the couch so Maggie could set her bag down. "What's got you so hyper tonight?"

"Nothing. I just missed you, so, now I'm being affectionate," he explained defensively, making her raise an eyebrow. "I wanted to remind you your Uncle Clint loves you."

He looked sentimental now, and Maggie looked worried. She tilted her head to one side. "And, uh, your favorite niece, Maggie, loves you, too… Should I be concerned? Oh, did you get drunk with Uncle Tony? Ugh, not again."

Clint gave a small laugh at that, his expression genuine enough to prove he was not, in fact, inebriated, Maggie noted. "I'm fine, kid, really. I'm just really proud of you, that's all."

This whole encounter was really strange, but Maggie decided to discard her concerns, as she offered Clint a warm smile in return. "Well, thanks. It's nice to be home."

"Definitely." Clint looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Now, then, I'll let you get to bed, so you don't have to sleep half the day away tomorrow."

"Oh, don't worry, I probably will, anyway," Maggie assured him as they shared a quick hug again. Offering her arm a gentle pat, Clint turned and walked back down the hall, yawning loudly as he went. She rolled her eyes at the sight.

After that, she resumed her mission to retrieve something from the kitchen with a yawn. The mission had only been three days long, thankfully, but was still action-packed and just generally exhausting. The rest of the Bus team was probably in bed by now, Maggie thought, as she remembered Skye having to be woken by Maria multiple times during the debriefing. It was an amusing sight, and Skye was barely awake when she finally bid Maggie goodnight.

Upon entering the area of food, Maggie immediately snagged an apple from a nearby bowl, then turned to the fridge to look for something else she could devour. But, suddenly, a strange sight greeted her, and she stopped.

Standing in front of the fridge was a smaller version of herself, looking up at the older version with a curious gaze. A blink passed between the two redheads before the young Maggie offered her older self a warm smile, and walked around her, out of the kitchen.

Following the seven year old with her eyes, Maggie watched as she patiently waited and entered the elevator, the doors closing behind her. After a few moments, Maggie just blinked once more, rubbing her tired eyes with a tired expression.

"Bus madness," she diagnosed herself under her breath with a shake of her head. "Just like Skye and Bobbi warned me."


A/N: So, what do you guys think Clint (and, now, Maggie briefly) was seeing all along? Before you ask me, I'll just say, I myself don't know, because I just threw the curve ball in for a comedic ending. XD I also assumed Skye and Bobbi may warn Maggie about going crazy from being on the Bus with a team of people for too long...

Shoutout to anyone else who used to watch iCarly, and may have even recognized the inspiration from the show in this chapter. X) See you all next time!