Chapter 7

Clint

Scott snored.

Clint rolled over.

Steve snored.

Clint shoved his pillow over his ears.

Scott snored again.

"Come on," Clint muttered under his breath. He switched to his back. The pillow pressed against his face making him feel a little too much like the time in Minsk when a war criminal tried to smother him.

They both snored.

"That's it." Clint rolled off his cot and grabbed his bow from underneath. He threaded between the others spread out in the apartment's main room and wondered how Wanda and Natasha were able to sleep.

He slipped out the door and headed for the elevator. Pushing the button, he rubbed a hand over his face trying to wipe the fuzz from lack of sleep off his brain. Clint took the elevator to the storage level in the basement.

It was the reason Natasha chose the building for her safe house. Tiny apartment. Big storage space. At least big enough for a two car garage. He pulled the door open, careful not to disturb Sam in the corner. After the first night, he grabbed his cot and decided to brave the cold rather than the snoring. Clint was tempted to do the same.

He moved into the gym section. It was rough and concrete, dark and cold, nothing like what they had in Tahiti, but it was something. The other half was partitioned as a workspace. Sam's suit sat on the bench half-finished.

Clint scanned the room and spotted the target in the corner. His senses felt dull, fuzzy. He needed some sleep. He fought the urge to steal a blanket from one of the lockers and curl up on the mat.

He nocked an arrow and sighted in on the target. At the last second, he turned toward the door and released.

The arrow froze… A red tendril held it an inch from Wanda's face. She raised a brow.

"Sleep on the mat?" He asked. "Really?"

She tossed the arrow back, and the fuzz retreated from his senses. He felt more awake.

"You weren't sleeping upstairs." She shrugged.

He laughed. "Looks like you weren't either." He nocked the arrow again. "You're getting better."

Wanda nodded. "Peter's senses can pick up Scott and the comms. I've had a lot of practice cloaking, lately."

"I bet... so you survived your first couple weeks at school. How was it?" He drew back and sighted the target.

"I've finished my reading assignment," she said, "so Mrs. Lille finally believes I understand English."

Clint let the bow relax without shooting. He turned to her.

She shrugged. "She means well."

"You know if you need anything we're here to help."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "Yesterday Natasha told me to say Americans used smallpox as a weapon against Native Americans."

Clint shrugged. "She's only ever learned the Soviet version of US history."

"Not exactly helpful in a US classroom."

"Point taken…" He turned back to the target. "Has Lester made a move yet?"

Wanda's eyes flared red. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. "Nothing yet. He just keeps following Peter around. It's a little creepy, honestly… I think he's waiting for evidence."

"Then we make sure he doesn't get any." She hummed in agreement. "The study group still going well?"

"What is this twenty questions?"

"If it is, I'll need to come up with a few more." He saw her roll her eyes and smirked.

"It's… actually fun. Peter's too smart for his own good, miles ahead of the rest of us, but a surprisingly good teacher. MJ's helping me with math. For some reason I can't seem to focus in that class." They exchanged a wry smile. "Ned is… Ned. He's actually helping me catch up on some gaps in my pop culture references. Surprisingly, Hydra didn't let us go out to the movies between experiments."

Clint raised his brow. "Shocking."

"Peter invited us all to his internship in a couple days. I thought Ned was going to lose it. They swore me and MJ to secrecy then refused to give us any details."

He glanced over. "Where is it?"

She laughed. "What part of no details wasn't clear?"

He hummed, then let his arrow fly. Bullseye.

"I see Tony's replaced Secretary Ross." She nodded toward the photo stuck to the target.

He shrugged. "New place, new picture. It seemed right."

"Clint..." she scolded. He started toward the target to collect the arrow. "Tony's still-"

"What?" Clint interrupted, not willing to hear Wanda, of all people, stick up for Stark. "He's what? He turned us in. He turned you in. What exactly is he Wanda?" He yanked the arrow out of Tony's forehead. The man's smirk mocked him under the hole.

"He's still… a part of our team."

Clint let out a dark laugh. "The team's broken." He stalked over to a new vantage point.

"Something broken can be fixed. Look at Sam's suit."

Clint's jaw clenched. "He turned us in for not signing the Accords and let the kid go for doing the same thing," he snapped. "He designed a way to…contain you, Wanda, and Parker walked free."

She stared at him, her face a mask of calm consideration. It pissed him off. She should be as mad as him. She should be madder.

"He won." She shrugged.

Clint stopped short. "What?"

"They won the fight, so they got a free pass."

Clint's mouth fell open. He shook his head in disbelief.

"You're expecting something just and fair. You're too used to being on the winning side," she scolded. "Winners make the rules. Losers deal with the consequences. This is what it is to lose." She sent him a sad smile. "I may not have gone to school in Sokovia, but I learned that much."

"No." He dug his heels in. "Tony doesn't care. There's no team if you can't trust the guy next to you to have your back."

Something flashed across Wanda's face, something desperate and hurting. It was gone so fast he thought he imagined it.

"Ok," she said, pushing off the wall. She moved toward the door hesitating at the exit. "It's just… it wasn't too long ago, I was the one no one trusted." She met Clint's eyes. "He's afraid, Clint."

Wanda slipped out before he could respond. He debated chasing her down. Then he realized he didn't know what to say.

Clint spun and glared at the picture of Tony. He drew and shot. The arrow wiped the smirk off the photo's face.

One thing was certain. If they ever crossed paths again, Tony would know what it was to lose.

Tony

Tony needed a win.

Ross was being a pain. He was still breathing down his neck about Vision, he called almost daily for updates on the containment device, – Tony had Friday block his number after the second day – and now he was starting to sniff around about Spiderman. Tony paled at the thought of Ross getting his hands on the kid.

The grid he was working on sparked under his fingers. He yelped.

"You alright?"

Tony jumped.

"Rhodey." He took a breath to calm his nerves. "Aren't you supposed to be bedridden somewhere?" Tony spun his stool to face the door.

"Maybe if I didn't have such great friends." He was standing halfway in the lab, the skeleton Tony built holding his legs steady.

"Aw, careful, you might get this thing beating again." He tapped his chest. The shrapnel may be gone, but jury was still out on whether or not he had a heart.

"Oh, no, no." Rhodey waved a hand. "I meant Pepper."

"Ouch, buddy." Tony spun back to the grid. He tapped a piece with a screwdriver. It sparked. There you are. He rerouted the circuits in his head.

"Tony..."

"Nope."

"Excuse me?"

"I know that tone," he said, reaching for the wire he needed. "That's your 'Tony there's a mess that needs cleaning' tone. Rhodey, if I told you once I've told you a million times, I'm not a maid." He ripped the wire out. Another section sparked. Shit. "I don't have the legs for it."

"It's the kid."

Tony spun back around. "The kid?" He blinked. "You mean the kid that promised to stay in his nice and safe apartment with his overly attractive aunt? That kid?" Why did all the teenagers in his life decide to ignore him?

"Happy just called. Apparently, there was some kind of incident at a bank."

"Of course, there was." He tapped his fingers once, twice, three times. His eye caught the metal collar sitting on the desk. "Friday get my suit ready." Pepper's going to kill me.

"Yes, sir."

When he got there, Peter was already gone. Ross wasn't.

"Tony," he called a greeting. The guards turned their guns on him.

"Secretary… looks like you finally caught some criminals." He said nodding toward the bank robbers hanging from the light poles. "Congrats."

Ross glared. "There's another one around here somewhere. You weren't thinking about breaking the Accords and helping him... were you?"

"No, no." Tony waved a hand. "It's a nice night. Thought it would be fun to fly around a bit. You know us billionaire playboys. Boredom's a mortal enemy."

"Uh huh, you know I've been trying to get ahold of you."

"What?" Tony flew higher. "What was that? Sorry, you're breaking up. Bug in the mic. Clogged speakers." He hit the thrusters and blasted away.

"Come on, kid." He scanned the city. "Where are you?"

Clint

"Incoming," Sam buzzed through the comms. Clint spotted the red and blue blur swing down the adjacent street as Sam circled above out of sight.

"How was the bank, birdman?" He asked taking out one of the military goons lining up a shot on Parker. The woman collapsed, stunned. Natasha melted out of the shadows and picked up the arrow.

"Man..." Sam complained, cutting up then swooping into a dive before releasing Red Wing. "You know it's Falcon." The drone zoomed silently behind Parker and intercepted a shot meant to cut his web. Cap bashed the shooter in the back of the head and sprinted down the next alley to keep up. "The kid's a bit clumsy, but did the job."

"Aw, Sam, are you still sour about Leipzig?" Clint let two arrows fly. Two goons fell. Man, it was nice to be back in action. "Nat, you're going to want to take the next left. It looks like he's heading for the school," Clint said as Parker swung around a corner.

"Cap, you have about a dozen waiting two streets over. Wanna thin them out?" Sam asked as Red Wing intercepted five more shots. "And I'm not still sour. I'm over it."

"Sure you are," Nat said slinking down the next road and out of sight. Clint was losing his vantage point.

"Completely over it," Cap grunted as one of the goons got in a lucky shot. Clint watched him flip a trashcan lid into his hand and bash the guy into a wall before packing up and jumping to the next rooftop.

"Uh, guys?"

"Come on, Sam, you know they're right," Clint said snuggling down into a new perch.

"No, guys, we're about to have company."

"Well, yeah… what do you think we've been doing for the last ten minutes?" Scott asked.

"Holding on for dear life under a lapel?" Sam deadpanned.

"… maybe… but Cap's been kicking ass."

Clint rolled his eyes and let another arrow fly. A goon who popped onto a nearby roof fell into the alley for Cap to clean up.

"No, I mean Tony."

"Tony?" Cap asked.

"Yeah, in the suit."

Clint spotted the trail from the thrusters. Shit.

"Did he see you?" Cap asked, pausing to look up.

"No… but I'm grounded, now."

"What is he doing? He's going to get himself arrested," Cap grumbled. "Barton… get Sam back in the air."

A smile spread across Clint's face. "My pleasure." He shot a salute Cap couldn't see and took aim. "Nighty night, Tony." He let the arrow fly. Bullseye.

Electricity wrapped the suit. The thrusters sputtered… then died. Stark fell hard onto the closest roof. Clint hoped he bruised something. He watched Tony struggle to his feet and tap the arc reactor. Nothing happened. Clint waited a few more seconds before turning back to the fight.

"Suit's out of commission."

"Nice shot," Sam complimented before taking off.

"Thank..." Clint spotted a cluster of goons waiting for Parker down an alley. There were too many. They took aim… and fired. "you." Red Wing intercepted five shots. The rest slipped through and shredded the kid's web. He went flying. "Parker's down."

"What?" Wanda's voice bled through the comms, worried.

"On it," Nat appeared behind the cluster and stole their attention. Parker took out three before limping down an alley. Clint took out another that tried to sneak up behind his back before another web shot from his wrist. The kid took off.

"He's up..." Parker was almost to the school, but there were too many between him and his target. They would follow and see him go in. A stray thought flashed through Clint's head. The kid wasn't paying too much attention to where his webs were landing… Clint's lips curled into a smile.

"Hey Sam, I don't suppose you would be up for helping the kid get a little more height?" he asked. "After all, you're over it, right?"

"What?" Sam groaned when he caught on. "You've got to be kidding."

"Or we could let them follow him. What's the worst that could happen?"

…

…

…

"Fine… Kid, you better not wreck my suit again."

Sam dove into the line of Parker's next shot. The webbing hit one of his wings, and Sam swooped up dragging the kid with him. He catapulted Parker over the goon's last line of defense.

The kid's arms and legs pinwheeled as he tried to understand what happened. By the time he dropped low enough, he was able to shoot another web and swung the last couple of blocks. He landed and looked up, head darting back and forth.

"Come on, kid," Clint muttered. "Go inside." As if he could hear, Parker turned and went into the school. "He's in."

Sam swooped in the air and came in for a landing behind Clint. "Told you… Over it."

Clint smirked back.

"Think that was enough time to change?" Nat asked.

"It was long enough. The Watchdogs made their move. I want someone on him at all times tonight," Cap ordered. "Wanda, you're up."

Peter

That was crazy! What had his web hit to make him swing that high? He needed to find out so he could try it again… and what was with the shady military guys? Maybe Ned would have an idea. He was going to flip when he heard. Peter glanced at the clock. Oh crap, Aunt May was going to kill him.

"Hey, Peter."

Peter's head snapped up. He hadn't heard her come in. How didn't he hear her come in?

"H-hi Ana." He cleared his throat and snuck a peek at his backpack. His suit wasn't showing. He let out a breath. "Wha- er-" he crossed his arms – "What are you doing here?" He tried to lean casually against his locker and slipped. Popping back up, he tried again.

Smooth.

"I forgot something," she said putting the combination into her lock. It popped open. She hadn't stopped studying him, and it made his brain fuzz. "Are you ok?"

His ribs hurt from a lucky shot one of the robbers got in, and his knees were skinned from the military types that chased him back to the school… He was pretty sure he lost them… yeah, he totally lost them.

"Of course." He smiled, trying not to grimace as his ribs complained. It must have convinced her because she smiled back. Ana closed her locker and hugged a book to her chest.

"Study group's at your place tomorrow, right?"

He nodded, suppressing a very manly groan as another spike of pain hit his side. "Mmhm."

She cocked her head to the side. "I'm actually heading that way on my way home. Want to catch the bus together?"

He hesitated.

"I wouldn't ask, only… I heard there was a robbery not too far away, and well..."

Peter rocked onto his feet and breathed through the pain. "No, you're right. We should definitely buddy up."

He was pretty sure he got all the robbers, but there was always a chance one got away. If something happened, he would never forgive himself. He motioned her ahead.

"Lead the way." If she walked ahead, he could hide his limp.

They walked outside and down to the closest bus stop. The hair on the back of Peter's neck stood up. He scanned the area and spotted a military-type scouring a nearby alley. Peter shrunk back as the man turned and started for the bus stop. Ana conveniently took a step into his line of sight to study the bus schedule. The man changed course, heading for the subway instead, and Peter let out a breath.

"Looks like we only have a couple more minutes," she said turning to smile at him. Her eyes crinkled.

"Good." He returned it. "Aunt May is probably worried sick."

"You're lucky to have her."

Peter laughed. "You have no idea." He noticed her eyes fall despite the smile still plastered across her face.

Not for the first time, he wondered who she stayed with. Somehow their study group always managed to skip her place. He hoped she didn't think they were trying to exclude her.

The bus pulled up, and they boarded. He followed her to the back. She chose seats near the emergency exit, and he let out a relieved breath. They had a standoff for the aisle seat before she gave in slid over to the window. The military man had him nervous, and if anyone boarded who shouldn't, he wanted them to meet him first. He collapsed into the seat next to her and suppressed a groan. He thought he saw her lips moving from the corner of his eye, but that couldn't be right. If she said anything, he, of all people, would hear.

Ana was a mystery. She was kind of old for their grade, but he supposed that was to be expected when a person's school was disintegrated along with their city. She was smart and funny and had some really weird gaps in her education that MJ found fascinating. He liked Ned's idea to host a movie marathon to help her with the essentials.

The bus screeched to a stop.

He and Ana exchanged concerned looks.

"We aren't at the next stop yet are we?" She asked.

He shook his head.

The door opened, and their heads snapped in its direction.

Mr. Lester walked on.

…

…

…

What?

Their math teacher walked down the aisle until he stood by Peter. He stared down at them.

"I need to see your backpack, Mr. Parker."

What?

"Mr. Lester?" Peter looked back at Ana. She looked just as confused. "I-"

"Why?" Ana asked behind him.

"Ms. Belova, this doesn't concern you. Mr. Parker, your bag, please."

His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't hand over his bag. His suit was in it. He opened his mouth to say… something.

"Peter doesn't have his bag," Ana said. Peter looked back surprised. Her honest eyes stared up at Mr. Lester. Their teacher looked between her and the bag at his feet. "We heard there was some trouble at the bank, so we decided buddy up for the ride home. He offered to carry my bag for me."

Before he could do anything, she grabbed the bag, unzipped it, and shoved her book inside. Peter froze. No way she didn't see his suit. She zipped it closed without pausing.

He waited for the shock to cross her face, the flash of realization… nothing.

Who was this girl?

Mr. Lester looked between them. His face twisted in anger. A second ticked by. Then another. Mr. Lester forced out a breath, his lip curling in disgust. Peter had never had anyone look at him like that, like he was a bug or something that deserved to be squashed.

"I'll see you both in class tomorrow," Mr. Lester spat before turning on his heel and leaving the bus.

Peter let out a relieved breath before turning and seeing his bag in Ana's lap. His heart thudded in his chest as she took out her book. He swallowed, and waited for her to gasp, for her to ask the question. It never came.

She handed his bag over. His brain fuzzed. Suddenly, it didn't seem as important that she saw inside. There was no way she saw his suit. Mr. Lester was weird, and he should probably avoid him when possible. Other than that, everything was fine.

Peter leaned back and bit back a groan.

Everything was fine except for his ribs.

A/N: Regarding whether or not Spiderman Homecoming has happened yet, excellent question! Honestly, I didn't take it into consideration when writing this because it's been entirely too long since I've seen it. I want to say this is before the movie occurs, and I'm sorry for any inconsistencies. As always, thank you everyone for reading! The feedback I've received is amazing and incredibly motivating. You're all the light in my day. Thank you!