The Avengers Whump & Bromance Anthology
The Barton Farm Battle
Whumptober 2020
PenPatronus
Auntie Nat convinced Peter to go to Cooper's birthday dinner, granting his wish to meet Spiderman. Peter autographed everything the kid wanted him to. He sang "Happy Birthday" and ate pizza and the amazing cake that Mrs. Barton baked. He played darts with Clint, colored pictures with Lila, and showed off his powers to an astounded Nathaniel, who immediately started searching the farm for spiders so he could be just like his new hero. Peter was in the barn, where Nathaniel was proudly showing off the family's tractor, when the hairs on his arms suddenly stood on end. He grabbed Nathaniel and raced outside. Beyond the farm, the sun was close to setting.
Natasha was closest. She was sitting with Cooper on the porch, showing him how to use the Swiss Army knife she'd gotten him. Peter sprinted over and opened his mouth to say the codeword he'd been trained to use at Avengers Tower for such a situation. But – he couldn't remember it. So, he just stood there while Nat, Cooper, and Nathaniel stared at him like he was crazy. "Strawberry pancakes!" he finally sputtered. "I mean… blueberry crepes. I mean… Raspberry waffles!"
Natasha's cheeks paled. "That's what you want for breakfast? I was thinking the same thing." She smiled, stood up, and rubbed her upper arms. "Hey, Clint!"
"Yeah?" Clint called back from where he and Lila were practicing with a bow and arrow.
"Did you feel that breeze?" she asked him. "Gave me goosebumps."
It was subtle, but Peter noticed Hawkeye stiffen. "Babe? Honey?"
Laura stuck her head out of the kitchen window. "Yeah?"
"That summer breeze gave Nat goosebumps. Maybe you could run downstairs and grab her a sweater."
It was subtle, but Peter noticed Laura start to tremble. "Of course! And it's getting dark, honey, how about you all come inside?"
"All right!" Clint took the bow from Lila and gestured for her to head into the house. He sauntered over to the porch where Nat stood with Peter, Cooper, and Nathaniel. "Coop, take Nate inside, will you? It's past his bedtime, anyway." The three Avengers stood listening to the movement inside the house. Peter heard a door open, heard Laura talking nonchalantly about heading to the basement to grab a popsicle, heard several pairs of feet go down a flight of stairs, and then he heard a louder, heavier door open and close.
Clint's phone chimed. He read a text that Peter saw was from Laura. "We're in."
And then, incredibly quickly, Barton and Romanoff started using American sign language. They signed back and forth at each other so quickly and so wildly that Peter could tell they were "yelling." Several times they each pointed at Peter's nose. Then they settled down. Clint "shut up" and Natasha signed – and then seemed to have the last word. "Hey, Peter, why don't you go downstairs and have popsicles with the other kids," Natasha said.
Peter's eyes narrowed. "No thanks. I don't like popsicles."
Barton glared at him. "Have a popsicle, Peter," he said. "Go. Have. A. Popsicle."
Peter stood straighter and raised his chin. "No, thank you," he said. "I'd rather hang out here with you guys."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Fine, stay with us, but do everything we tell you," she insisted with a tone that left zero room for argument.
"Yes, ma'am."
"All right. Why don't you two head inside and get the Scrabble game set up," said Clint. "I'll be right behind you. I just have to run to the barn." Clint started jogging away. Nat took Peter by the elbow and led him inside. She took the Scrabble box off the shelf and sat down at the kitchen table. Peter went to sit down beside her, but she gave him a look, and he sat across from her, his back against the corner of the walls. Nat opened the box, loaded the guns inside it, and slid one over to Peter. "Do you know how to play?" she asked him casually.
Peter gulped. "No, I've never played before."
Natasha nodded. Her lips were thin and white. "I should've taught you how to play before we came here," she sighed. "But, don't worry, you'll figure it out." She winked at him.
Suddenly – and Peter couldn't help but leap to his feet – the lights all over the farm went out at the same time that the yard exploded. Underground charges in a circle around the barn and house erupted, tossing Nate's tricycle onto the roof and leaving a moat of fire no one could possibly pass through. At first Peter thought that the intruders on the edge of the property had set off bombs, but then he saw Clint racing to the house with a smile on his face. He joined them in the kitchen and Nat tossed him a gun. "I've kind of been wanting to do that for years," he admitted. "That was fun."
Nat turned to Peter. The jig was up. They might as well talk freely now because whoever was listening knew they knew they were there. "Laura and the kids are safe in a panic room in the basement, but we cannot, under any circumstances, let those intruders get inside this house. How many are there?"
Peter shrugged, only able to see his teammates by the light of the fire moat. "I don't know. I can sense them coming, I know there are a lot of them all around the house, but that's all I got."
Clint's phone chimed again. "The team is on their way," he reported. "We just have to hold them off long enough for them to get here."
"We can do it," said Natasha. She nodded at Peter, then shrugged. "Point and shoot," she instructed.
That was when a bullet punctured the kitchen window behind Clint. The bullet went through his back, exited the upper right side of his chest, and continued on into the right side of Natasha's chest.
"Oh," Nat said.
"Fuck," said Clint.
They both collapsed to the floor.
Peter ducked as a dozen bullets came through the same window.
"Parker," Clint said with red teeth, his voice barely audible over the gunfire, eyes glowing in the firelight, "get her downstairs."
Natasha coughed. A glob of blood leaked down her chin. "N-no," she stuttered, "take… him…"
"Peter, do what I say."
"He has a wife and kids, Peter, take him down to them!"
"Shut up, Nat!"
"You… shut… up… Barton…"
"Both of you shut up!" Peter bellowed. The assassins looked at him shocked, and a little annoyed. "Shut the fuck up and let me save you both!" Peter grabbed Nat and Clint by the wrists, got up onto his knees, and dragged them both to the basement door. He kicked it open and then, struggling to keep the backs of their heads from slamming down on each step, he walked backward, hauling their bodies downstairs. "LAURA!"
"Molasses," Clint said, his voice sounding a little dreamy. Natasha was unconscious.
"MOLASSES!"
A ceiling-high silver box stood in the far corner of the basement. Laura peeked out of the panic room, took one look at the scene, and started giving orders to Cooper and Lila. By the time Peter dragged Clint and Nat into the tiny room, the Barton's were all ready to give first aid.
Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Thor saw the smoke as they approached the farm in the Quinjet. Dark figures were running around the house, throwing grenades and torches into it, blowing it up in one corner and burning it down in another. Tony turned spotlights down on the figures and started firing. The figures immediately retreated, running into the woods. Tony landed the Quinjet in the field beside the burning farmhouse, right on top of the picnic table. Thor took flight the moment the ramp descended. He raised his hammer and launched himself into the sky. High above the house, barely visible in the moonlight, Thor swung his hammer as fast as he could, summoning wind. He aimed the tornado at the house and unleashed it. The house fire disappeared in seconds. The Avengers were about to run into it when everything load-bearing collapsed. The second floor dropped into the first, which collapsed into the basement.
The house was gone.
"Oh my god," Bruce said, shaking.
"They're…" Steve was breathing so heavy and fast that he almost failed to get the words out. "Do you think they're…"
Thor landed beside them. "I saw nothing from above. Barton's vehicle is still here, the barn is empty… They… Maybe they…"
Tony leaned over and put his hands on his knees. For a moment he looked like he was going to vomit, but then he took two deep breaths, and led the sprint straight into the wreckage of the farmhouse. "PETER!"
"Nat! Clint! Laura!" Bruce called. He waded into the debris and started throwing wood and books and stones outside of the wreckage, digging.
"Romanoff!" Steve shouted. Carefully, trying to avoid nails and broken glass, Steve stepped into the destroyed house, looking for clues. "Barton! Parker!"
Thor jumped over all three of them and landed in the very center of the rubble. He rummaged around, called out names, and then suddenly ordered his teammates to be quiet. "What is it?" Tony demanded.
"Hush!" Thor commanded. "Captain, what do you hear?"
Steve shut his eyes and tried to hone in on his super hearing. He did hear something. Pounding. A fist against something metal. Steve stepped over and between piles of junk until he found a hole close enough to the sound. Miraculously, that hole led to a staircase, and more than half of the steps were intact. Steve and Thor exchanged a look, then climbed down into the basement with Bruce and Tony right behind them. Part of the basement was still burning, and chips of wood and bits of stone were raining down around them. Steve spotted the silver panic room. He pounded on the door, and someone inside pounded back. "Password!" that someone shouted.
A desperate Tony kicked the door so hard that he left an indent in the metal. "You know who I am!" he roared. "Now open up!"
There were so many locks to unlock that it took Peter half a minute to unhook, turn, and unscrew them. When the door opened he threw himself into Tony's arms. "Oh, thank God," Tony exhaled. He hugged the kid back, then held him at arm's length. "Are you all right?"
Peter nodded. There was blood all over his clothes, but none of it was his. "Happened so fast," he gasped. "I – I did all I could."
"Of course you did, kid." Tony smoothed down Peter's wayward hair and smiled at him. More dirt and debris showered down around them. "Upstairs," he ordered. "Get out of here."
"Yes, Sir." Peter ran out of the crumbling house.
Tony turned back to the panic room where Laura was convincing her children to exit with Bruce. "Mommy will be right behind you," she told them. She put a sobbing Nate into Bruce's arms and made the pale and trembling Cooper and Lila each hold onto a corner of his shirt. The little train made its way up the stairs and out of sight. Tony actually entered the room, then, and gasped at what he saw. The entire floor of the tiny bullet-proof, waterproof, fireproof panic room was one puddle of blood. Tony watched, shellshocked, as Steve carried a heavily bandaged, white-faced, unconscious Natasha out and up. Clint sat up against the far wall, just as pale and bandaged, with his wife kneeling beside him. Tony went to them and put his palm on Clint's wound. "Jesus, Barton."
"I'm ok," Clint wheezed, clearly far from it. Blood was starting to leak through the dressings. "Are the others out?"
"They're safe," Tony promised.
"Take Laura," Clint said. "Laura, honey, go with him. Thor can help me."
"Babe, I…" Laura took a deep breath. "Ok." She went to the door and Tony took her hand, holding onto her tight as he ascended the steps in front of her. Tony was at the top when the second-to-last step gave out, and Laura plummeted. She screamed, but Tony's grip on her was tight, and he pulled her the rest of the way up. Meanwhile, around them, the basement ceiling/first floor was disintegrating. By the time Laura and Tony reached the others on the outskirts of the destroyed house, the entire thing had caved in. No one could hold in their screams. Thor and Clint were still down there.
A hammering sound preceded Thor emerging from the ground like a cork out of a bottle. The kids screamed and clapped. Thor had Barton over one shoulder and he flew straight to the crowd. He landed and readjusted Clint's body so that he was in a bridal carry. Barton was unconscious. They started for the Quinjet.
"Where's the nearest hospital?" Tony asked Laura.
"Half an hour north, by car," she said.
"Do they have a helicopter pad?"
"No. It's a tiny place – one floor."
Tony shrugged. "They have a roof. That's all we need."
Everyone crowded into the Quinjet, and Tony took off.
Natasha had surgery – and recovered.
Barton had surgery – and recovered.
By the time Clint was able to leave the hospital, Tony already had the house rebuilt – three times as big.
The End
