April 2013, Manhattan

Kate was in hospital for nearly a week in the end, fighting off the infection through the haze of slowly decreasing pain meds, but she was finally discharged, and Clint was able to take her home.

"Why are we at Stark Tower?" Kate asked, as he helped her through the front door.

(She said she was fine, but she was leaning on him pretty heavily; he'd learned long ago from Natasha not to comment and just let her do it.)

"Long story," Clint said, ushering her into the elevator.

"Welcome back, Mr Barton," JARVIS said. "Home?"

"Yes please," Clint said.

"What's going on?" Kate asked.

Clint sighed. "Can we get into the apartment first?"

"Have you moved without telling me?"

The question was light-hearted, but her voice shook just a little.

"No, we moved without me telling you," Clint said, "but in my defence, you were on so much morphine you thought you were in Disneyland."

Kate smiled sheepishly. "Fair. Wait, we?"

Clint didn't answer, guiding her out of the elevator and opening the apartment door, immediately grabbing Lucky's collar. "Down!"

Lucky dropped to the floor with a whine, his tail slowly sweeping from side to side, his eyes fixed on Kate.

"Good boy," Clint said. "Wait."

Tail wagging a little more vigorously, Lucky followed them over to the couch, waiting for Kate to get situated and pat the cushion beside her. Only then did he jump up, laying his head on her lap.

"Thanks Lucky," Kate murmured, rubbing his ears. "Clint, what's going on?"

"To cut a long story short," Clint said, somewhat relieved she was looking at the dog and not at him, "I'm now your legal guardian."

Kate's hand stilled for long enough that Lucky gave a little woof, nudging her until she started up again. "I … Are they dead?"

"No," Clint said. "Given they were so concerned about the state of their no-claim incentive, we suggested that they temporarily sign custody over to me so I could use my insurance. They chose to make it permanent."

"Why not just give them the $200?" Kate asked, still not looking up.

"Because it was never about the money," Clint said.

"But now you're stuck with me," Kate said softly. "That's not fair."

Clint closed his eyes, knowing now that her parents had definitely had that argument in front of her, damn them. "No, Kate, what's not fair is that you think that's a bad thing. If I'd known this was an option, I'd have done it months ago."

Kate frowned. "Why?"

Clint stilled her hands on Lucky's head, much to the dog's displeasure. "Hush, Lucky; you can have her back in a second. Kate, they were wrong, okay? They have always been wrong. And I thought that my feelings on the matter were implicit, but maybe I should have said it anyway. They are idiots that I want to knock some sense into, because I would be so proud if you were my daughter. I am so proud of you."

Kate finally looked up, her eyes a little damp. "What happens when you realise the bad stuff?"

Clint bit back a smile. "Katie, I know the bad stuff."

"You don't," Kate insisted. "I'm difficult, and I'm a brat, and I get bitchy, and …"

"And I know all of that," Clint finished. "I teach you archery, Kate; nine times out of ten, those lessons end with you calling me an asshole."

Kate sniffled. "Well, you are."

"I'm exacting," Clint conceded. "And you're damn good, and I know you are, so I push you because you can do it. The point is, Kate, I know all of those things, and I love you anyway."

Kate sucked in a breath, and he realised that he'd somehow never told her that before.

"And you're not difficult," he said. "You're strong-willed, and you're opinionated, and you're tenacious, and those aren't bad things to be. They weren't good parents, Kate. I knew that. I didn't realise how bad it was, and I'm sorry for that."

"It's not your fault," Kate said, wiping at her eyes. "You … You do?"

Sometimes she reminded him so much of Nat that it hurt, that she had wound up with the same kind of uncertainty and loneliness and lack of affection as a woman who had grown up in what amounted to a torture chamber.

Clint sighed. "I have no idea how this is going to work," he admitted. "I always said I wouldn't have kids, because my parents were awful people, and I was scared I'd be the same. We are both going to have to make some adjustments and compromises. You're going to call me an asshole more than once, because I will be."

Kate finally cracked a smile, and he squeezed her hands.

"Here's what I do know," Clint said firmly. "You're my daughter. You have been for a long time. And I love you no matter what you do, and no matter what happens. That is not going to change, okay?"

For a second, he thought she might cry, but then she leaned forwards and hugged him over Lucky's head.

"What about Natasha?" She murmured.

"Nat's not like a daughter to me," Clint said. "That would be weird."

To his relief, Kate started to laugh. "That's not what I meant! Won't she be upset that you did this without asking her?"

"Nah, Nat and I don't have that kind of relationship," Clint said. "Besides, she's on an op at the moment, so I probably couldn't get hold of her even if I tried."

Kate obviously wasn't convinced, so Clint pulled out his phone and dialled Natasha's number. Unsurprisingly, it went to voicemail.

"We don't take our phones on ops," Clint told her with a sad smile. "Why do you think I didn't always answer you?"

Kate shrugged. "I figured the texts annoyed you."

"No, they made my day when we got back," Clint said, nudging her. "I promise."

"You must have some way to contact her," Kate said. "What if it was an emergency?"

"This isn't an emergency," Clint said, but he dialled the number for her burner phone anyway.

Neither of them particularly liked the solo ops. He knew her self-sacrificial tendencies too well, and she just didn't trust anyone else to watch his back.

The burner phones were their ways of dealing with it; very simple, very old, no capabilities other than calling and texting, and they were the only ones who knew the numbers.

Still, it went unsaid that they wouldn't always answer.

This time, however, she did.

"What's happened?"

Clint rolled his eyes, putting the call on speaker. "Are you free to talk?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have answered," Natasha said, affection lacing her voice. "What's happened?"

"I've kind of adopted Kate," Clint said.

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "What took you so long?"

Clint almost laughed at the surprise on Kate's face. "It's a long story. She was worried you'd be upset that I didn't tell you beforehand."

"Of course not," Natasha said. "I'm fairly sure you've known her longer than you've known me."

Clint had to think about that for a second. "It's a close call," he said. "Maybe by like a few months. How's everything going your end?"

Natasha hesitated just long enough to prove her next words a lie. "Fine."

Clint immediately took the call off speaker, squeezing Kate's hand as he stood up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Nat …"

"No, really," she insisted. "It's a cake-walk. Couple of easy jobs."

"But …" Clint prompted.

Natasha didn't answer.

"Natasha," Clint said. "It's me. I'm still your partner."

"Promise me," she said, "that you won't come running. Whatever that long story is … Kate needs you there with her."

Clint sighed. "I promise. What's wrong?"

"There's something I'm not being told," Natasha said. "I'm not sure what it is, but I feel like I'm spying on SHIELD as much as I am anyone else, and … Well, it doesn't instil a lot of confidence in my back-up, put it that way."

Clint grimaced, resting his forehead against the giant windows that looked out over Manhattan. "I haven't heard anything, but …"

"Stay where you are," Natasha said firmly. "I swear to God, Clint, if you show up …"

Clint couldn't help chuckling. "Relax, babe; I'm not going to. I'll speak to Carter."

"She would have told me," Natasha said.

"If she knows what Fury's got you doing," Clint pointed out. "She might be as in the dark as you are."

"True," Natasha conceded. "Okay, call her in. But I mean it, Clint. Stay where you are."

"I promise," Clint said. "Stay safe."

When he returned to Kate, she seemed to have tensed up even more. "Do you need to go?"

"No," Clint said firmly.

"But if she needs help …"

"I can do it from here," Clint said. "And Nat's perfectly capable of looking after herself, Katie; trust me. Are you okay with all of this?"

That was the million-dollar question.

"Because I realise we didn't ask you before we did this," Clint added, when she didn't answer. "I promise you never need to go back to them; if you're not okay with this, we can figure something out …"

"I am out of the hospital, right?" Kate asked.

Clint frowned. "Yeah, of course. Why, are you still in pain?"

"No," Kate said. "It's just … I've had this dream a lot. Something happens to them and I get to come and live with you. I'm not still on morphine, am I?"

Clint hugged her again, feeling her nestle into the crook of his neck the way she used to when she was a young child and he had just met her.

"It's real, Katie. We're home."

Clint was not an idiot, especially not when it came to Natasha.

A large part of his role in Strike Team Delta (a far larger part than he would have liked) involved watching and waiting until she gave the signal that she needed him to take the shot.

He hated it - especially when her 'interrogations' led to her getting hurt, but he knew better than to mistrust her judgement.

And, in any case, she was right in this case.

To an onlooker, Kate might have appeared to have adjusted perfectly fine to the new arrangements, but he knew her better.

She was quiet, polite, perfectly behaved …

In short, she was acting nothing like Kate.

Pepper had told him to give her time, that she would eventually trust that he wouldn't send her away as soon as she took a wrong step.

But it hadn't taken as much time as Clint or Pepper had expected. On day five, things finally came to a head, and he walked into Pepper's office with a giant smile on his face.

"Morning," she greeted. "What's with you?"

"Kate and I had an argument," he said.

Pepper raised an eyebrow. "Most parents would consider that a bad thing."

Clint shrugged. "Well, we'll need to talk when she gets home, which'll be fun, because Peggy and Steve are coming over for dinner. She told me on the way out the door that she was going out after school, and I insisted on knowing where and who she was going to be with and when she'd be back."

"Fair," Pepper said.

"Well, she couldn't actually answer any of the questions, so I told her she wasn't going out until I had those answers, and she kind of … blew up."

"Well, her parents probably never cared where she was," Pepper said. "It's got to be an adjustment. Doesn't explain why you're smiling."

"She called me Dad," Clint said, grinning. "I don't think she realised it, but she did. Also, that's Kate. I was starting to think the hospital sent home an imposter."

Pepper chuckled. "Well, then, congratulations. And good luck for your first big parenting moment."

Clint sighed, his smile fading. "Yeah, I should probably think about that."

At lunch time, he sent Kate a text reminding her that they would have company for dinner, but she didn't answer.

In fact, Clint had braced himself for a teenager coming home stupidly late to prove a point, so he was pleasantly surprised when she came straight home instead.

"How was school?" He asked by way of greeting, slicing vegetables for dinner.

"Keep things calm," Pepper had advised. "Don't start an argument if you can help it."

In response, she dropped her bag by the door, crossed the living room to the kitchen, and hugged him, burying her face in his shoulder.

It was so unlike her; Clint hastily dropped the kitchen knife and turned to hug her back, gently guiding her to sit down in the nearest chair. "Honey, what happened?!"

She shook her head, turning it just enough that he could hear her. "Nothing. I was just a complete bitch this morning."

Clint relaxed, relief flooding through him like an adrenaline rush. "Oh, thank God. I thought you'd been hurt."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

Clint sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "This is what I meant when I said we'd both have to make adjustments. I know you're used to doing whatever you want, but that's because …"

"That's because they didn't care what happened to me," Kate finished. "And you do."

"Exactly," Clint said. "I don't want to be unreasonable, Katie. I just need to know where and who and when you'll be back, so I can find you if something happens."

"That's not unreasonable," Kate said, her voice hitching. "I was unreasonable."

"Kate …" Clint sighed. The armchair was getting a bit uncomfortable with both of them squished into it, and he slid an arm under her knees to lift her so he could reposition them.

Kate curled up on his lap, tucking her head under his chin. "I'm so sorry."

"I was going to be unreasonable this morning," Clint admitted. "And then you couldn't answer the questions, and it suddenly became reasonable."

"Why were you going to be unreasonable?" Kate asked.

"Because you haven't been acting like yourself," Clint said. "I don't need you on best behaviour all the time, alright. I'm not going to suddenly send you back."

"Are you sure?" Kate asked in a small voice. "I said some pretty awful things this morning."

"Nothing I haven't heard before," Clint said. "And you also called me Dad; that balanced it all out."

From the way Kate suddenly froze, it was clear she hadn't realised she had - or intended to do so.

"Not that you have to," he added. "I mean, if you want to, you can, but if not, that's okay too."

"Am I grounded?" Kate asked instead.

Clint hesitated. On the one hand, he should probably set firm boundaries. On the other … "This morning was a culmination of a lot of things and I'm going to count it as an outlier. Not to mention, you came straight home after school and apologised, so thank you. I was half-expecting to have to come and drag you home."

"Oh, you're going to be that dad," Kate said knowingly.

Clint laughed. "I will absolutely be that dad, and I have no shame in that. So, no, you're not grounded this time. Next time will be a different story."

"That's fair," Kate said. "There won't be a next time."

Clint smiled to himself. He was almost certain there would be, but now wasn't the time. "Come on. Want to help me with dinner?"

Kate nodded with a smile, unfolding herself to stand up. "Yeah, I'd like that. Do they know about me?"

"Of course they do," Clint said. "Peggy's the closest thing I have to a mom." He thought about that for a second. "She is my mom. She was the second person I told after Nat."

"I assumed she wasn't that much older than you," Kate said.

"Well, it's a long story," Clint said, "and a state secret, so I'll tell you the story in exchange for a promise that you won't tell anyone."

Kate saluted. "Promise. Where do you want me?"

Clint handed her the knife and started her chopping vegetables. While they worked, he told her about the super soldier serum, and how Peggy had become lady Liberty.

By the time he had finished, dinner was almost ready and, as if on cue, JARVIS announced that Steve and Peggy had arrived.

Clint met them at the door, and Peggy hugged him tightly. "We would have been here sooner, but …"

"You were in London," Clint finished, kissing her cheek. "I know. Hey Steve."

Steve shook his hand with a smile. "Clint. I apologise in advance."

"Oh, what have you done?" Clint asked with a grin.

"Ignore him," Peggy said with a sniff. "He's got no sense of tradition."

"Alright," Clint said, a touch warily. "Anyway, this is Kate."

Peggy gave her a smile. "It's lovely to finally meet you, Kate. Clint speaks exceptionally highly of you."

"Well, I think he's biased," Kate said.

Peggy chuckled. "He's a parent; we're always biased. Now Steve and I had a debate about this in London - I have a tradition by now of giving a teddy bear to new kids in the family, but you're obviously not a newborn, so we weren't sure if it would be a bit weird. Then I saw this, and I had to do it." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small stuffed bear - wearing a purple t-shirt with a bow and arrow on it.

"Where on earth did you find a bear with that shirt?" Clint asked.

"Some places cashed in on the invasion," Peggy said. "There's still Avengers merch flying around."

"So you got her a Hawkeye bear?" Clint asked bewildered.

"I love it," Kate said, almost certainly because he was bewildered.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Of course you do."

"Come on, he's adorable," Kate said, taking the bear. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Peggy said.

"Dinner's ready," Clint announced. "Don't let Lucky get him, whatever you do."

"Oh, good point," Kate said, sitting the bear on the kitchen counter. "Also, Lucky has eaten," she added to Peggy and Steve. "He will sit and look sad and like he's starving; he's very good at it. Don't let him win."

As if he understood her, Lucky let out a little whine.

"No," Kate said sternly. "No human food."

"Sorry buddy," Clint said. "She's right."

"We both know you're the worst for sneaking him bacon," Kate said.

"Guilty," Clint said cheerfully. "But life's too short not to have bacon."

"I mean, you're the one paying the vet's bills," Kate said.

Clint hesitated. "Fair point." He set dinner on the table. "Let's eat."

After dinner, Kate helped clean up without being asked, and then whistled for Lucky. "I'll take him for his walk."

"Alright," Clint agreed easily. "Be careful."

"Always am," Kate called as she left.

"Thank you for not interrogating her," Clint said, once the door was closed.

"Did you really think I would?" Peggy asked.

"Not really."

"How's it going?" Steve asked. "Must be a bit of a change for both of you."

Clint sighed. "Yeah, it is. I mean, she's been my daughter for a long time. It's just that now I actually need to, you know, parent her. Make sure she does her homework and stuff."

"Does she?" Peggy asked.

"So far, she's been unnervingly well-behaved," Clint said. "Well, until this morning when we had a bit of an argument about her going out after school. But she came straight home and apologised, so I think we're good." He sighed. "While she's out, though, I have a problem."

"Kate?" Peggy asked.

"No, Natasha," Clint said. "She has concerns; thinks Fury has her spying on SHIELD as well as her targets."

Peggy frowned. "I haven't heard anything."

"Could it be connected to the missing data?" Steve asked.

"Maybe," Peggy said slowly, "but I wouldn't want to say for certain."

"What missing data?" Clint asked.

Peggy heaved a sigh. "Tony hacked the carrier during the invasion. When he went through everything, he concluded that someone had completely deleted something from the carrier. Except we never figured out what it was or who ordered it. Nick said he didn't."

"So he could have found something and have Nat following it up," Clint said.

"I'm just going to ask," Steve said, "could Natasha be wrong?"

"No," Peggy and Clint said together.

"Nat's instincts are always dead-on, and I know the difference between Natasha bouncing ideas off me and Natasha genuinely worrying," Clint said. "She says she doesn't trust her back-up at the moment; it's making her twitchy, which is making me twitchy. Thing is, I can't go. First of all, she'll have my head for leaving Kate. Second of all, I don't want to leave Kate. And third of all, whatever plan Fury's working on is gonna completely fall apart if I turn up."

"Why's that?" Steve asked.

"I told you about Strike Team Delta," Peggy said. "The jobs Natasha is on at the moment are way below her skill level, and I had wondered about that. Except that kind of makes sense; she's not great at taking vacation time, and I think Nick is worried about Clint, in a kind of blustery, not-going-to-admit-it kind of way. I assumed that he was giving Natasha the closest version of a vacation that she'd accept and keeping her close in case Clint needed her."

"That is something he'd do," Clint admitted grudgingly.

"If Clint suddenly comes off medical leave and turns up where she is …" Peggy hesitated. "Well, it's like taking a sledgehammer to a wooden fence. Overkill. The wrong people are going to start wondering why Delta have been called in."

"Didn't you say there was a strike team with her?" Steve asked.

"Alpha is on the fringes," Peggy said.

"I wouldn't trust them to watch her backs on a good day," Clint grumbled.

Peggy winced. "Yeah, I know."

"So what I'm hearing," Steve said, "is that Natasha needs someone she can trust as back-up that isn't going to make anyone suspicious."

"Yeah," Clint said. "Any ideas?"

Peggy and Steve exchanged a look.

"Up to you," Peggy said.

Steve nodded. "Honestly, I was leaning in that direction." He looked at Clint. "Fury wants me in DC. Something about getting me back in the game. We're fairly sure there's a reason he wants me in DC and Peggy in New York, so we were trying to figure that out and weigh up the options."

Clint felt the tension seep out of his body. "You're sure? Not gonna lie, that would make me feel a hell of a lot better."

Steve gave another firm nod. "I'll speak to Fury tomorrow. Anything I should bear in mind about working with Natasha?"

Clint snorted. "She's self-sufficient. Unless she gives you the signal, do not interrupt her, even if it looks like she's screwed. Trust me, you will never, ever hear the end of it."

"I worked with Peggy in the war," Steve said dryly. "I learned that lesson a long time ago."

Peggy chuckled. "He means it, Steve. I've been on ops where I've been screaming down the comms for Barton to take the shot, and he's refused."

"It's not because I don't want to," Clint admitted, trying not to think about it. "I hate it. But I made the mistake of taking the shot before her signal once. I didn't hear the end of it for a month."

Peggy patted Steve's arm. "You won't be in that situation. At least you shouldn't be."

"I have tried to talk to her," Clint said, just as the door opened again. "She's stubborn."

"Am I?" Kate asked breezily, letting Lucky off the leash.

"Nat," Clint said. "Although you are as well." Lucky's evening walks were usually longer than that. "Did he try and go after the pigeons again?"

"One day, I'm going to let him," Kate said. "He won't know what to do with himself."

As Peggy and Steve laughed, Clint watched Kate closely. It hadn't been a yes, and there was a tightness around her eyes that told him something had happened.

Still, she wasn't crying, and she didn't seem hurt, so he decided to wait.

Peggy and Steve left not long after that, possibly also picking up on the slight shift in Kate's mood.

As soon as they were gone, Clint turned his attention back to Kate. "Short walk."

Kate shrugged. "Yeah, well. Saw my former parents. Had a moment. Decided to come back in."

"You okay?" Clint asked.

"Don't think they saw me," Kate said, not really answering the question. "If they did, they didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but are you okay?" Clint asked.

"Is that why we're here?" Kate asked in response. "So I don't have to deal with them?"

"Partly," Clint said honestly. "It's also more convenient for work at the moment - and let's face it, the perks are great."

Kate nodded, fiddling with Lucky's leash still in her hands.

This time, Clint didn't ask again. She was on the verge of talking. He just had to be patient.

"Is it okay that it still hurts that they didn't want me?"

"Of course it is," Clint said immediately. "I mean, I wish it didn't, but that's because I don't want you to be hurt. My parents died when I was eight, and Peggy more or less adopted me twenty years ago. When I think about them, I still sometimes get mad. I still wish I could drag them back from hell and demand to know what was wrong with me. Some people are just … They were wrong, Katie. I promise. It's okay to wish they had been better."

He gently took the leash out of her hands so he could put it away.

Lucky rose up on his hind legs to press his nose into her stomach, and she let out a reluctant laugh, gently nudging him away so she could sit down and let him rest his head on her lap instead.

"You're a good boy," she murmured, scratching his ears.

"He's the best boy," Clint agreed, coming to sit beside her. "Are you alright?"

Kate sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. It was a habit she had only really picked up in the last few days, and each time she did it, he had the feeling she was waiting for him to push her away. He silently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, patiently waiting.

"I don't know," she said finally. "It just … I always knew they didn't care. I don't know why that's upsetting me now."

"Because you're starting to realise you deserved better," Clint said, as Lucky jumped up to stretch across both of their laps. "Why did you teach him he's a lap dog?"

"I didn't," Kate said. "He thought that when I got him. I think the bigger the dog, the more convinced of that they are."

Clint sniggered. "Probably."

Kate heaved another big sigh. "Is it really okay?"

"Katie, you have been dealing with that crap for years," Clint said. "Of course it's okay to be upset or mad about it."

"Not that," Kate said softly. "I mean, if …"

"If what?" Clint prompted

"If I call you Dad," she said, even quieter.

His throat closed up, and for a second or two, he couldn't answer. "Yes," he said finally. "Of course it's alright."

"Good," Kate said. "Because I've been calling you that in my head for years."

Clint tilted his head to kiss her hairline. "Love you Katie."

"Love you too, Dad."