Author's Note: First thing's first... the number of reviews I'm getting on this are AMAZING! You have no idea how much the support means to me! Thank you so much to TheSnoopyFox; AllexMussen; Sage Nicholson; Lesfont25; TactfuLizard; BrokenKestral; GloriousPurpose12; wolfimus prime; Katie MacAlpine and the two Guests for taking the time to leave such wonderful reviews! I very much appreciate it!

Second thing's second: I wanted to give you guys a heads up about my posting schedule. After this chapter, I only have one more chapter pre-written for this story. I had hoped to have made more progress at this point, but with the stress of a global pandemic hanging over us and my daily life rapidly shifting because of it, I haven't made nearly as much progress as I hoped I would. So just a heads up that there will definitely be a chapter posted next week, but after that my posting frequency might slow down a little bit. I hope not, but wanted to let you guys know what to expect!

Hope you all are staying safe out there!

Chapter Four

The next day was Saturday, a day where everyone tended to be left to their own devices. After breakfast everyone scattered to typical activities. Thor went out to meet up with some friends from school and Tony and Bruce – who's grudges never lasted – took over the living room with one of their science projects. Steve sat on one of the stools at the counter trying to get a jump on his summer school homework he was behind on. He would be so relieved when he was finally caught up with all the school he missed while he had been sick for so many years and could actually have a normal summer.

Clint had disappeared back upstairs after breakfast as he always did. However, Steve had really expected to see him come back down by now. It was approaching lunchtime and Steve would have thought Clint would have wanted to get this over with early.

When he was about halfway through his math homework, Steve decided to take a break. He grabbed an apple and then headed upstairs to see what Clint was up to. But when he reached the bedroom, he strangely found it to be empty. Steve looked around curiously, even going so far as to step back and rise up on his tiptoes to see further up onto the top bunk. But it was empty. Confused, Steve turned and walked back out into the hallway, glancing down at the bathroom door to find that the door was open.

Clint wasn't here.

Steve walked back down the stairs and took a long look around the living room and kitchen, confirming that he didn't see Clint anywhere around.

"Have you guys seen Clint?" Steve asked, heading over to where Tony and Bruce had what appeared to be a dismantled computer tower on the coffee table in the living room.

"Not since breakfast," Tony said distractedly as he was fiddling with something inside the tower with a screwdriver. He glanced up at Steve. "I wouldn't worry. We don't usually see much of the kid in the daylight."

"Yeah, I know," Steve admitted, though he didn't feel comforted as he sent an uneasy glance back at the stairs.

There was going to be real trouble if Clint had left the house without telling Phil. But if he had left the house, wouldn't they have seen him come down the stairs?

Not knowing what else to do, Steve went back over to his homework. It was almost lunch time and Phil would be coming up from his office. If Clint didn't show up for lunch, then Steve would have to say something to Phil. But Steve found that he wasn't able to really focus on his homework as he kept glancing over at the stairs.

"Alright, guys, break time before you burn the place down," Phil announced, glancing over at Bruce and Tony as he came back up to the second floor.

"There is no fire involved here, Phil," Tony said, rolling his eyes.

"Good to know," Phil said. "Now why don't you run upstairs and grab Clint. Bruce and Steve, can you grab plates and drinks while I work on sandwiches?"

Steve packed up his homework, knowing from experience how messy meals could get. Tony headed upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time and Steve found that he was distracted as he watched him go.

"Steve?" Phil prompted when Steve didn't move to help Bruce. "Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so," Steve mumbled as he pulled himself out of his daze and moved into the kitchen.

Just a couple of minutes later, as Steve and Bruce finished setting the table, they heard Tony's pounding footsteps coming back down the stairs, ending in a big THUD as he launched himself from a few steps up and landed heavily back on the main floor. Steve whipped around, fully expecting to find Tony in a panic. But Tony looked completely calm as he made his way over to them. And even more surprising… just a few seconds later, Clint appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

But… he hadn't been up there just a little while ago.

"Where did you find him?" Steve asked Tony in an undertone as he approached, glancing at Phil to make sure he was preoccupied with preparing sandwiches.

Tony paused and gave him a funny look. "Sitting on the bunk bed, like he always is."

"The bunk bed in our room?" Steve asked.

"You really think I wouldn't mention if he were in mine and Bruce's room?" Tony said skeptically. "That room is a death trap to anyone other than us." He paused, studying Steve's face. "Dude, what are you freaking out about?"

"Nothing," Steve murmured as he turned to the table.

Well, maybe Clint had been in the bathroom. After all, Steve hadn't really investigated that closely or searched all that hard.

Lunch passed without major incident. Tony and Bruce were deeply immersed in a discussion that only they could understand. Steve was able to relax into a normal conversation with Phil about his summer school classes, putting the confusion over where Clint had been out of his head. It was likely just an honest mistake.

"The syllabus for next year's advanced European history class is killing me," Phil said with a laugh as he was cleaning up his plate. "Do me a favor guys, next time I say that I'm going to start an advanced class's syllabus over from scratch, please talk me out of it."

As Phil was over by the sink, Steve caught Clint's eye, sending him a silent question. Clint took a deep breath as he dropped the crust he was fiddling with back down to his plate and gave a small, resigned nod. He was ready to get this over with.

Steve picked up his plate and headed over to the sink where Phil was finishing up.

"Hey, Phil," Steve said quietly, hoping to avoid drawing attention from Tony and Bruce. "Um, Clint wanted to… wondered if he… wondered if we could all talk about something." He hadn't put much thought into his phrasing and he suddenly wished he had.

Phil's eyebrows went up in surprise. He glanced over his shoulder at where Clint still sat at the table, studying his mostly empty plate.

"Yes, of course," Phil said. "You guys want to come down to my office?"

"Yeah, that'd be good," Steve said.

"Okay, I'll meet you guys down there," Phil said with an encouraging smile. "Whenever you're ready."

Steve nodded. As Phil headed back toward the stairs, Steve went back over to the table. When he approached, Clint glanced up at him with a questioning look.

"Phil's ready when you are," Steve told him with a smile, hoping to put him at ease.

Clint didn't seem comforted though. He dropped his gaze and picked up his plate, getting up and trudging over to the sink like a condemned man.

Steve got it, he really did. He had been in homes before that were great until there was any kind of hurdle to cross. He had firsthand experience being cast out because things were suddenly too difficult. He had tried to explain to Clint last night that Phil wasn't like that, but he honestly wasn't sure how much CLint really absorbed.

But Steve trusted that Phil would prove to Clint that not everyone was looking for a reason to give up on him.

"C'mon, let's go," Steve invited as Clint made his way back over to him, turning and leading him toward the stairs.

"What's going on?" Tony asked suddenly. He didn't miss much.

Steve shot a look at him over his shoulder. "I'll tell you later." Because this wasn't something that would be kept under wraps once it came out, but Phil needed to know first.

Something Steve had always loved about this house was all the large windows. On a sunny day like today, light flooded in those windows making the place feel even more open and welcoming. The same was true of Phil's office area. A large bay window with a cushioned seat took up most of the wall on the front side of the house. When Steve was younger and afraid of being left alone, he would often curl up there to do his homework while Phil worked.

Just in front of the bay window was a setup similar to the living room upstairs. There was a large couch pushed up against one wall and an overstuffed chair angled to one side of the couch. It allowed the person in the chair to face anyone on the couch without them feeling like they were on trial. It was a very comfortable setup, one that put the kids in Phil's care at ease much more than if he were to sit them in front of his desk, which was set at the back of the large, open room, out of the way.

As Steve and Clint came into the room, Steve could see Phil standing over the desk at the back of the room, shuffling around some papers. He looked up and smiled at them.

"Go ahead and take a seat," Phil invited warmly. "I just need a minute, I just need to organize this before I forget where everything goes."

Steve turned to Clint and motioned toward the couch. Clint looked from the gesture to the couch and back, and then gave a small shake of his head with a frown.

"Okay," Steve said quietly with a nod.

Steve moved over to the couch and was encouraged when Clint drifted along with him. Steve took a seat at the end of the couch closest to where the oversized chair was situated. Clint stopped at the other end of the couch, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Sorry about that," Phil said as he headed over and took his usual seat in the chair. He looked between Steve and Clint. "How are you guys doing sharing a room? Is everything going okay?"

"Yeah," Steve assured him with a nod and a glance at Clint. "Yeah, everything's going fine, it's nothing like that."

"Okay," Phil said, looking a bit relieved. He glanced at Clint again, whose gaze was snapping anxiously between the two of them. "What did you boys want to talk about then?"

Steve turned to look at Clint. The only thing Clint had really told him was that he needed Steve's help telling Phil. It wasn't clear just how much Steve was supposed to tell.

"It's okay," Steve encouraged quietly. When Clint's gaze settled on him, Steve went on slowly and carefully. "It's okay. You can tell him. Phil will help you, I promise."

Clint bit his bottom lip and shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. He opened his mouth, took an unsteady breath, and then snapped his mouth shut again, a look of panic over taking his features for a moment. It was such a difference from the blank look that Clint had worn for the past week. When he wanted to, Clint could be incredibly expressive, portraying so much more than simple words.

It was mesmerizing to watch.

Finally, Clint took in another deep breath, dropped his gaze to the floor and spoke, his voice soft but surprisingly steady. "I can't hear."

While Clint continued to study the carpet, Steve watched Phil for a reaction. For a moment, there was no reaction at all. Steve couldn't blame him, he hadn't known how to react either when Clint had finally told him last night. Steve had managed to get a few details out of Clint last night, but even after Clint started speaking, it was still hard to get information out of him.

"He's deaf," Steve supplied quietly, even though Clint couldn't hear him anyway and was still looking down at the floor. "He told me he can read lips reasonably well and can get the gist of what's being said if he can see the person's mouth. But he can't hear anything."

Phil gave Steve an appreciative nod and then focused back on Clint. When Clint still didn't look up, Steve took the initiative to reach out toward him to try and get his attention. Before Steve's hand reached his arm, Clint's head snapped back up as he took a step away from the reach. Steve tilted his head toward Phil, encouraging Clint to focus on him so that they could communicate.

As Clint's wary gaze shifted to Phil, Phil gave him a comforting smile.

"It's okay, Clint," Phil told him. "It's fine, we can work with this." He paused, but Clint didn't have an obvious reaction. "Can you talk to me? We can talk about this and figure out what you need in order to make this work."

Clint stared at him, eyes wide. It was impossible to tell if he really comprehended what Phil had said. Phil sent a glance at Steve, but Steve didn't know how he could communicate the sentiment any better.

"Hang on," Phil said, holding up a finger before he got up - Clint taking a panicked step back at the sudden movement - and headed back to his desk.

"It's okay," Steve tried to assure Clint, even though he wasn't looking at him.

It pained him to see anyone react to Phil of all people with such fear. He put out a placating hand toward Clint, whose frightened gaze snapped to him. God, did he understand that fear. But he also knew that that kind of fear didn't belong in this house.

"It's okay," he repeated slowly, hoping that Clint would be able to understand him. "Phil is not going to hurt you. I promise, Clint."

Steve couldn't tell if Clint was even remotely comforted by the statement, since just a second later Clint's gaze was back on Phil as he returned from his office area with a pad of paper and a sharpie marker. Phil knelt at the coffee table and started writing. Steve leaned over so that he could read it.

It's okay that you're deaf. If you talk to me I can help you.

Phil turned the pad toward Clint and slid it down to the end of the table. Clint sent an unsure look at Phil before taking a half step closer, leaning his upper body so that he could read the paper without getting any closer than he absolutely had to. He shot Phil a skeptical look, taking a moment to size him up and look for any indication that he wasn't being sincere.

Finally, Clint gave a small, timid nod.

Phil smiled as he reached out and took the pad back and wrote again before sliding it back. Have you ever been to a doctor who looked at your ears?

Clint leaned forward to read the paper again. He considered the question for a moment before he finally shook his head.

Phil nodded as if he weren't surprised as he wrote his next question. I would like to set up a doctor's appointment for you. We can go to an ear doctor who can tell us if there's anything we can do about your hearing loss. Would that be okay with you?

Clint had to take a full step forward in order to read the longer message. He sent several nervous glances at Phil as he moved, who to his credit seemed to take extra care to be still while Clint moved. Clint leaned over to read. Steve figured he had to have read it several times before he finally looked up. That skeptical look was back, as if he were trying to figure out what Phil's true intentions were.

Finally, at long last, Clint bobbed his head in agreement.

Phil smiled as he slowly moved his hand back to the pad to pull it closer so that he could write again. Okay, I'll work on that this afternoon. In the meantime, is writing things down like this the best way to communicate with you?

Clint got an introspective look on his face as he carefully considered this. Then he opened his mouth and slowly spoke. "I can mos'ly read lips."

Steve had noticed with the very few times Clint had spoken out loud so far, he paused to think for a long time before speaking. It reminded Steve of Thor before he had gotten a decent handle on his speech apraxia. Clint seemed to concentrate a lot on his enunciation, which generally came across impressively well considering he couldn't hear himself, but there were a few times when Steve had noticed missing syllables in certain words.

Phil wrote another note and slid it down the table. Okay, that's good to know. But is it easier for you for me to write things down for you like this?

Clint blinked blankly at that question. When he looked back up at Phil, his expression had shifted. Clint was no longer looking at him with suspicion. For just a split second, Steve could have sworn that Clint looked mystified before he carefully blanked his expression again.

It was the look of a kid who had never once been asked what would be easiest for him. A kid who's wants and needs had never been held in any kind of regard.

Finally, Clint gave a small, timid nod.

Phil gave Clint a warm smile as he started writing again. Okay, we can work with that, that's not a problem.

Clint swallowed thickly and then nodded again. Phil paused to write again.

I'll call and get you a doctor's appointment as soon as I can. Is there anything else you need in the meantime?

Clint gave a small shake of his head.

Okay, please let me know if that changes. I'm here to help you with whatever you need.

After Clint read that message, he simply shifted his gaze to Phil and took a small step back. Then his eyes darted to the stairs as he shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortably. Finally, he pointed toward the stairs, sending a questioning look at Phil. Phil barely started to nod, and Clint was hurrying up the stairs and out of sight.

Both Phil and Steve were quiet as they watched him go. Once he had disappeared, Steve shifted a little awkwardly in his seat. He felt like he should leave, after all this had all been for Clint, and now that Clint had left Steve had no business left here. But for some reason, he found himself remaining in his seat.

"Thank you for helping him, Steve," Phil finally said with a slightly strained smile. "I appreciate you helping him get to this point."

"He was really scared, Phil," Steve admitted quietly. "He really didn't want to tell you."

Phil sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, that's not all that unusual with the kids I take in."

"Yeah," Steve said. He paused and then decided to go on. "But… this is different, isn't it?"

Phil looked up and met his eyes with a sad smile. "Kid… you are too young to be this perceptive."

Steve laughed softly as he shrugged. "Too much life experience I guess."

"Okay, well, do me a favor and add some good old-fashioned teenage rebellion into your schedule at some point," Phil laughed.

Steve smiled as he pushed himself up to his feet. "I'll see what I can do." Then he went on sincerely. "Thanks, Phil. It's really nice to be able to come to you with this stuff."

Steve had been in and out of six homes over the course of two years before he had been placed with Phil. A few of those homes were decent homes, the parents had just been overwhelmed with Steve's special medical needs. But it was more common to be moved out of a bad home. He was pulled out of his last home as the foster father had been in the process of being handcuffed and charged with abuse.

Phil's home was completely different from any other home that he had experienced while in the system. Phil truly cared about them. He wanted to be more than just a place to crash, he wanted this place to be a home to every kid who walked through that front door. And more than that, he genuinely wanted to help them. He listened not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He wasn't interested in short term fixes to their problems just to get them through their time with him, he wanted to make long term changes in their lives.

Steve felt incredibly lucky to be able to live here and call Phil his guardian.

Phil gave him a warm smile. "You know you don't have to thank me for this kind of stuff, kid. This is what I'm here for."

Steve smiled and nodded before he turned and headed up the stairs.

When he got back up to the second floor, he wasn't surprised by what he found. Clint was nowhere to be seen and Steve assumed he had gone right back up to their bedroom. Steve's feet had barely hit the second floor when Tony was running over to him, though Steve was a little surprised to find Bruce trailing behind him.

"Alright, spill it," Tony demanded. "Clint just ran upstairs like there was a demon chasing him. What the hell is going on?"

Steve sighed wearily. He knew that now was as good a time as any, since he knew that Clint sure as hell wasn't going to want to tell the rest of them.

"Clint talked to me last night," Steve said.

"You're shitting me," Tony said with wide eyes. "Well I hope it was something damn profound after spending a week as a silent monk."

Steve figured there was no reason to beat around the bush at this point. "He's deaf."

There was a long silence following the revelation.

"Wait… what?" Tony finally sputtered.

"He can't hear."

"I know what deaf means," Tony practically snapped. "But that doesn't make any sense. You said he'd respond to some questions by nodding or shaking his head."

"Apparently he's got some pretty decent lip-reading skills," Steve said, shrugging one shoulder.

"So… he can't hear anything at all?" Bruce asked curiously.

"I don't really know all the specifics," Steve admitted. "I could only get the bare minimum out of him last night and he wasn't particularly forthcoming with Phil just now either. Basically, you know what I know at this point."

"But he can talk, right?" Tony said, still obviously struggling to get his mind around the turn of events.

"Yeah, pretty well actually, all things considered," Steve confirmed.

"Then, why doesn't he talk?" Tony said. "I still don't get it."

"I don't know," Steve sighed, starting to get frustrated by Tony's obsessive questioning. "It's almost like he's afraid to talk."

"But why-"

"Like I said, right now we only know the bare minimum," Steve cut him off. "You basically know what I know at this point. Now, I'm gonna go check in on him."

Admittedly, it was mostly an excuse to get out of the conversation, but he also wanted to make sure Clint was holding up okay considering how terrified he had seemed to share this part of his life. Steve turned and headed up the stairs.

This time, Steve couldn't say he was surprised when he entered their room and found that it was empty again. He did do a more deliberate search of the room this go around though. He crouched down to look under the bunk bed, he stepped on the bottom rung of the ladder in order to better assess the top bunk, he even checked the spaces between the furniture and the walls.

Once again, Clint had disappeared without a trace.

Steve headed back out of the room and in order to assure himself that he wasn't overreacting, he confirmed that the bathroom up here was empty. He even went so far as to check Tony and Bruce's room and then went upstairs to check Thor's room. There was really no sign of Clint anywhere.

Knowing that Clint had shown back up again last time he disappeared, Steve was able to keep more calm about the situation. He went back to their room and grabbed some of his summer school homework. Then he settled himself on the lower bunk, pushing himself all the way back to lean up against the wall. Using a binder as a table, he got to work. He could glance up between problems and have a pretty good view down the hallway. Knowing that Clint had somehow materialized back in their room last time, Steve figured this was as good a spot as any to wait and hopefully get an idea where he disappeared to.

He almost missed it completely. It was late into the afternoon and Steve was completely engrossed in his math homework. Math had never been his strongest subject.

He was absently chewing on the eraser of his pencil as he stared dismally at a particularly tricky problem when he was vaguely aware of movement in the room. It was really by instinct alone that had him glancing toward the window before focusing back on the math book sitting open next to him. A long beat later, his brain finally comprehended what his eyes had taken in, and he slowly turned his head back toward the window, because surely that wasn't what he had actually seen. The screen from the window was now sitting on the floor - Steve hadn't even heard it move - and Clint was carefully climbing into the room from outside.

From outside into the third story window.

"What the…" Steve mumbled, leaning forward to get a better look.

Clint hadn't noticed him yet. He dropped silently to the floor and then quickly scooped up the screen and carefully fitted it back into the window with such ease that it was clear he had done this several times before. He turned and took a couple steps into the room… and froze as his gaze finally fell on the lower bunk where Steve sat watching him with wide eyes.

For a long minute, the two just stared at each other. Steve looked at Clint in shock while Clint looked at Steve in fear.

Clint swallowed thickly. "You g'nna… you g'nna tell on me?" His voice was soft and timid.

Steve blinked. Then he pushed himself to the edge of the bed, ducking out from under the bunk bed. Clint scrambled backward, but Steve hardly noticed as he headed for the window, looking out curiously.

"How?" was all Steve could think of to say.

In the silence that followed the question, Steve slowly remembered that Clint had no idea what he was saying. He turned back toward Clint and found that the younger boy was pressed back against the wall and the poor kid was practically shaking in fear.

Steve put out a placating hand. "Hey, no, it's okay. I'm not mad, I'm just… confused. Con-fu-sed." He repeated what he felt to be the most important point slowly, over-enunciating and pointing to himself. He still wasn't quite sure what the best way to communicate with Clint really was.

"I-I jus'..." Clint started and then paused. He took a deep breath and stood up a little straighter, speaking more carefully. "I jus' nee'ed some air."

"Okay," Steve said and then sent an uneasy look over his shoulder at the third story window. He was careful to turn back to Clint before speaking again. "There's just… easier and less dangerous ways to get some fresh air. You know, like the front door."

Clint just frowned as he shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm not gonna tell on you," Steve assured him, encouraged when he saw the subtle relief in Clint's features. He had to be mostly getting through anyway. "But please don't do that again. That's really dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt. Okay?"

Clint bit his lip and shifted uncomfortably. He was obviously reluctant to make such a promise but also didn't want to outright refuse.

Steve sighed. "Okay, how about you and me go for a walk and I can show you around the neighborhood. And, you know, how to use the front door." He gave Clint a smile and was surprised when he actually got a small smile in return. "Come on, we've got some time before dinner."

As Steve led the way back downstairs with Clint in tow, he finally felt hopeful. This was going to work; they were going to figure out how to reach Clint. This was going to work.

It had to.