So, I did a writing binge. You're welcome.

I'm not Marvel.

Thanks to my scary beta, Nova.

TapTap

Claire curled up in a blanket, on the big sofa in their communal living room, and plainly refused to move.

She wasn't actually being very difficult, truth be told. When Pepper arrived all in a frazzle, she reassured her. When Bucky insisted she'd first drink and then eat some hot soup with bread, she complied. When the police turned up to take statements (and she was really the only one capable of giving them one, not to mention one that made even remote sense) she helpfully went it over with them for their reports.

She just didn't move while doing any of that.

Tony, somewhat surprisingly, had grabbed a blanket next to hers, and didn't move either. He had just magicked out a tablet from somewhere and offered up occasional reassurances, calm as could be. Bucky had taken her other side, and beyond demanding she lean on him so he could check on her, his tactics were very similar.

Steve was more fidgety, but as everyone was present, he busied himself with the inevitable catering, especially as Bruce was in no state to help.

The doctor had gone through yoga and breathing exercises, and finally taken a blanket of his own, falling dead asleep as soon as he stopped moving. Natasha doted on her perfectly unharmed daughter like a mix between your average devoted mother and an angry cobra.

Pepper had joined her for a while, and then she'd gone back to work, dragging the then newly arrived Bruce Wayne back out with her. Realising his pacing and endless questions were hard on both the people with PTSD and those struggling not to go into shock, your friendly neighbourhood billionaire version number two let himself be removed without resistance.

Wayne left peacefully and quietly, but only after he kissed Claire on her head and assured her that he was just a call away if she needed him. They both knew she was well cared for already, but he still needed to tell her that. And though her state of mind might not be entirely ideal, she did still understand that, and didn't begrudge him his protectiveness.


Claire had lost track of time in her little warm cocoon when Rhodey and Sam joined them. Rhodey updated everyone in a state to hear him on all the practical stuff, while Sam - who obviously had experience in some form with people coming out of a trauma - jumped straight into helping Steve without more than a greeting.

"I hope that if anyone else were involved, they'll get what they deserve." Natasha's grip on her baby was gentle, but her eyes hard as she spoke up, once Rhodey had finished his update.

The military man snorted. "I doubt they had more accomplices. They were not the kind. Still, we have security teams on that. Both Stark employed and military. They've been joint by some of Wayne Inc's people, too, I assume that's because of press reasons after Tony's stunt at that gala." He rolled his eyes, but he was only half wrong. "As for the men in that room..." Rhodey's smile was almost harsh, and some sort of mix between disgusted and satisfied. "For what I can tell, the first responders assigned to the scene had to use the body bags much like you'd do a black garbage bag when cleaning your kitchen. It was grim.

"Oh holy..." Steve frowned, from his position leaning against the back of the sofa, where he could both see them all and rest a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Pretty much, yeah, from what they told me," Rhodey confirmed. "Whatever the hell they did, the Hulk didn't appreciate it!"

"He drew blood." Claire's voice was stable, though she herself found it a little too mechanic to truly sound like her. She burrowed deeper into her warm cocoon and lethargically ordered her body to get itself together.

She looked up from a blink that had taken the better part of ten seconds to find everybody watching her. "He had a knife." She elaborated. "He was just playing power games, really - I think he wanted me to scream or something - but he put the tip of it to Maria Natalia's finger and it drew blood. I think, anyway. There really wasn't enough for me to see for sure."

Natasha looked even more menacing, staring down upon the small human in her arms, who had a small Band-Aid over the cleaned, tiny cut already.

"I'm sorry," Claire added after a moment, startling everybody and setting of a chorus of assurances that this was in no way, at all, ever, her fault in any way. She already knew as much, but she couldn't help saying it anyway.

Clint still hadn't returned.