Chapter 8

AN - So here we are, another chapter and again the responce to the last chapter was beyond amazing! I'm so glad that you all like it so much. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed your questions are always taken into account with the story. Sadly I don't own any of the material that is either Harry Potter or Avengers the credit for this goes to JK Rowling and Marvel. I hope that you enjoy the chapter :)

Clint glanced at his watch. 0210. Well this was not how he had envisioned spending the night. When he had been sent over to London, England he had been told it had been a long term surveillance op and that it would be a weekend job at the worst case scenario. That had changed of course because it was Clint on the op and he had taken one look at the surveillance and had said that it was sub-standard and he would do his own before even contemplating taking out the target.

That hadn't gone down well with the bosses. Not that Clint cared, though he did take exception to the fact that they thought he was just prolonging the mission because he had nothing better to do. Not only was that unprofessional but there was also a beautiful woman waiting in his bed when he got home, not that he had told anyone that. Lauren. She was different, Clint hated how ridiculous that sounded and the cliché made him wince, but it was true. She didn't pry into what he did, as soon as he had said he wasn't allowed to talk about it she had nodded and said if he needed to talk about anything and it wasn't classified then she would listen gladly. That had surprised him if he was honest.

So that was why he was currently sat in an alley across from the hotel watching a meet between the guy he was staking out and a buyer, taking notes about the discussion and running down possible scenarios Clint watched carefully as the two men shook hands, he continued snapping pictures of the two men as the made their exit. After the two men went their separate ways after dinner, Clint was about to move out to follow the main target when he heard movement behind him at the end of the alley.

Placing everything in his backpack and pulling out his side arm - he wasn't allowed to carry his bow when doing surveillance as apparently it was too conspicuous - so a side arm was his only weapon until the actual take down. Just as he started to move off he was startled by a noise coming from the other end of the alley. Keeping to the shadows he slowly made his way down to the end, if Clint listened carefully he would have sworn it was a child whimpering making the need to investigate even more important. As he came to the end of the alley he came across a row of bins, hearing the whimpering noise increasing, he turned slightly to face the noise. Clint began to make his way toward it, as the whimpering grew closer Clint drew in a gasp as he first laid eyes on the shadow that sat huddled between the bins.

The fragile figure of a small child squatting between the bins tore at Clint in every way. As the young boy sat underneath the flickering street light, it allowed the agent to get a look at the small boy who had recently noticed he was being watched. As the boy looked at him he was shocked with what he saw, a thin and pinched face that was stained with tears, large emerald green eyes that were looking back at him from underneath a mop of jet black hair that stood out at gravity defying angles. Realising the boy was most likely very jumpy and skittish around those larger than him Clint slipped his weapon into the holster and shrugged off his rucksack and jacket.

He slowly crouched down onto the back of his heels and holding his hands out in a universal gesture of surrender, he took a deep breath "Hey there, my names Clint, Clint Barton. Can you… can you tell me… uh your name?" He got a small glance in response from the boy but he made no indication that he was going to reply to the older man, nodding in acceptance Clint continued, "I'm 24 years old, how old are you little man?"

The young man glanced in his direction slightly, green eyes surveying him, as if assessing whether he was trustworthy. He shivered slightly, rubbing his abnormally thin hands over his upper arms in an attempt to warm himself up. After a moment he glanced up and looked Clint in the eye, "H… Harry." He murmured in an overly timid voice that made Clint shiver in thought at what the boy may have been through.

"Harry. That's a strong name." The boy – Harry, glanced up and looked at Clint with a small flicker of doubt on his face. Smiling Clint chuckled, "Yeah. Harry is short for Harold, it means power, leader, ruler. It's a kings name. A man who leads nations." Harry's eyes lightened at the comment, obviously not accustomed to getting compliments. Grabbing his black thermal jacket he opened it out to Harry saying, "Hey buddy, can you come out for me."

Harry shook his head, shrinking back into the corner even further and wrapping the dirt stained shirt that was ripped and holey entirely around his alarmingly thin frame. Nodding his head in acceptance Clint laid the shirt to the side for a moment. Looking at Harry he waited quietly until 5 minutes later the young boy began to shuffle his way out of the gap to stand in front of Clint.

Smiling at the sudden change Clint gestured to the jacket on the floor, waiting for an indication of approval to be manhandled by Clint. After receiving a shy and uncertain nod Clint slowly reached for the jacket, picked it up and wrapped it around the young boy. "Are you okay to come with me Harry?" Clint said holding out his much larger hand. The young man nodded and took his hand as they turned and slowly began walking to the end of the alley.

Gasping suddenly Clint was pulled from the dream abruptly. Looking over to the clock on the bed side table and seeing it only read 02:37am Clint sighed in frustration before rolling over and returning to sleep.

Bruce hurried out the door, trailing behind Natasha as she wandered the corridors. It took about 15 minutes of wandering in the identical concrete corridors before they came across the gym and she had long since noticed that he was following her. Ignoring him she entered the gym, stripped off her jacket and threw it on the bench on the side. Turning to the back of the gym she turned the radio on and allowed the music to fill the room. After doing a series of stretches - still continuing to ignore Bruce, she walked up to the treadmill and set it to an 8 mile run.

Bruce raised his eyebrows, from what he had seen of before the Ultron incident she only did 5 miles at night if she was trying to settle her mind. Pulling up a stool he sat himself down and made himself comfortable for a long wait. He loved this about her - he realised that now that he did actually love her – not that he deserved to – though from his entirely male point of view he was very much enjoying the benefits of sitting behind as she ran. The view was spectacular if he did say so himself. Bringing his mind back to more appropriate thoughts he began to consider how to word this particular apology.

In all honesty, he would most likely categorise this as groveling owing to his incredibly dick move after Ultron. Seeing that she had had sufficient time to gather her thoughts he took a breath, stood and made his way over to the side of the treadmill. "Nat, can we talk?" She continued running, maintaining focus on the wall as she kept up her rhythm. Realising that she wasn't going to respond he continued, "Ok, silent treatment. If I talk will you listen?" She didn't say anything, but gestured her hand in a vague motion for him to continue.

Nodding Bruce began, "Good." There was a long pause as he shuffled his feet, uncertain of where to start, "I'm sorry. I was a dick of epic proportions and I ignored the team but more importantly I ignored you. The only person who has respected me, not because of the Hulk but because of me, I took advantage of you and I regret it. Not only did I walk away from you but I abandoned you for 10 years. For what it's worth I am truly sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me now but I hope at some point in the future you can. I just wanted you to know that."

Seeing that she hadn't acknowledged his words and was unlikely to do so, Bruce returned the stool to its original place in the corner and once again took a seat, going through his meditation ritual he had set up long ago. After completing the series of breathing exercises he flexed his shoulders and looked once again at Natasha, pleased to see that she too had begun her cool down routine he stood and began to make his way to the door. Glancing at his watch it read 01:30am. Knowing that he didn't do well on so little sleep he opened the door but stopped before exiting and turned back to Nat, "Make sure you get some sleep, we'll be pretty busy tomorrow no doubt." Bruce then left the gym, the door closing with a click as he left.