Surprise!

Ok, Matt will admit that this entire scenario is his fault. He should've made Frank leave when he went on patrol for the night and he should've answered that text Clint sent him not long after. All and all, he should've paid more attention. But he didn't. So now he's here.

Clint stands near the window of Matt's apartment while Frank stands in the kitchen, each with his bow drawn and gun leveled respectively. There's an almost tangible tension in the area between them and it actually feels like it's crushing him when he enters. In fact, the mood is so tense he's surprised that no one actually fired when he entered as loud as he did. Once he's in, the first and most pressing question falls from his mouth before he can actually think it.

"Where's Leslie?"

Clint snorts in tense amusement and nods his head toward the hallway. "In the bathroom with Lucky," he explains, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him. "She went out before I came in, and I'm sure Lucky will keep her there until we settle this. Now please explain why you have one of the most wanted people in the country sleeping on your couch?"

"Red, who is this guy?" Frank grumbles, barely flicking his gaze to the bathroom when Leslie flushes. "Make it quick or the kid will freak out."

Matt sighs loudly and steps between the two with his hands raised in surrender. Yes it's a stupid move on his part, but he's about eighty percent sure neither of them will kill him. "Clint, Frank is an. . .acquaintance of mine. We worked together a bit a few months ago. Frank, this is Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye of the-"

"The archer from the Avengers," Frank finishes irritably, "yeah I remember now." The bathroom door clicks open and everyone tenses, sharing a few seconds of tense silence before Frank and Clint lower their weapons. Matt can barely hold back the sigh he feels working in his chest and everyone turns as the Leslie appears in the edge of the hall with Lucky by her side. "Hey kid," Frank greets, carefully clicking the safety on his gun and shoving into his pocket.

"Hey Leslie," Clint says almost in response to Frank's greeting as he sets his bow aside. "How's it going?"

Leslie's heart rate jumps in confusion, probably at the sudden rise in the amount of people normally in the apartment, but quickly settles at the realization she knows everyone. For a moment, Matt hears her breathing shift as if she's going to speak, but it dies away as fast as it came and she gives a simple nod instead. It was a miracle Matt got a word out of her in the first place, he can't hope for her to talk in front of everyone after a week.

"You hungry?" Frank offers. "We could go-"

"I could take her somewhere," Clint intercepts, a subtle hostility in his tone that's barely masked with pleasantries. "It'd probably be safer anyway."

Frank's fist tightens by his side. "She'll be safe with me," he assures coldly. "You can count on that."

The two lapse into another tense silence and Matt focuses on Leslie, who's heart rate seems unusually calm for a situation like this. Then again Lucky is by her side and she does have a thing for dogs.

He's not getting a dog. He's not getting a dog.

Matt clears his throat loudly and breaks the building tension in the air. "I can call something in," he finalizes, motioning for Leslie to sit as he speaks. "What does everyone like?"

"Breakfast food," Frank says as he moves and takes a seat beside Leslie on the couch. Matt knows he only did it to piss Clint off.

"Pizza," Clint counters, taking a small, defensive step forward toward Leslie. It worked.

Leslie's heart rate jumps slightly and her breathing changes. "Chinese," she offers quietly just before she shies away when all attention falls on her. "If it's ok. . ."

"Of course," Clint says, his tone forced relaxed as his own heart rate jumps to excitement. "I'm always down for Chinese food."

"I haven't had it in a while myself," Frank agrees with a few approving nods. "I can't pay."

"Of course you can't. . ."

Matt rolls his eyes at the bickering as Leslie glances between the men in the room, settling on Matt who gives a small shrug in response. "I'll pay," he says aloud as Frank grins brightly at Clint. Matt can practically feel the heat of the glare Clint sends back. "What do you want?"

"Chicken lo mein," Clint chimes, still holding a staring contest with Frank as he speaks.

"General tso's chicken," Frank says after, then turns his whole body away from Clint to face Leslie. "What about you, kid?" he asks, causing Leslie to shrink slightly at the attention. "You like chicken?"

Leslie clears her throat quietly and her breathing shifts and hitches a few times before she opens her mouth. "Shrimp," she whispers, then clears her throat again. "Shrimp fried rice."

Frank chuckles and tosses an arm over the back of the couch, an action that causes Leslie to cringe and her breathing to hitch again. Clint steps forward again, but Frank holds up his other hand to stop him. "It's ok," he assures in a tone way more gentle that what Matt has ever heard him use before. "It's ok. I'm not gonna hurt you. I was just getting comfortable." Leslie's breathing is still shakier than before, but she offers a quick nod before turning her head to look at the floor. "We good, kid?"

Lucky must sense the change in Leslie because he trots over and plants himself at Leslie's feet, tail wagging slowly and his head tilted sideways in confusion. A small smile flickers on Leslie's face and she nods slowly as she reaches out and scratches behind Lucky's ear. Matt notes how she doesn't try to speak again and he almost frowns. "I'm going to order," he announces as he slides his cell phone out of his pocket. "Try to keep it down."

"I make no promises," Clint replies lazily as he finally takes a seat in the armchair across from Frank and sets his bow beside his feet. "Leslie seems like she's gonna chat us up the whole time."

In an action that surprises everyone in the room, Leslie releases a few breathy chuckles as she continues to scratch Lucky. She doesn't make any other sound after that and Matt makes his way to the bathroom. The only reason Matt feels like he can leave Frank and Clint in the same room without him in there is because Leslie is. The two may hate each other, but they both genuinely want Leslie to be ok. Matt may never understand why, but he can at least assume that Frank's idles stem from the loss of his family. Either way, Matt wants at least one of them out of his house.

The food is ordered and Matt takes a moment to gather some of his thinning patience before heading back out into the living room. Clint is telling some story about the stuff he's done with the Avengers, the domestic life stuff, and trying to ignore Frank's sarcastic commentary. Leslie, however, seems fully captured by the story. It's at times like this that Matt wishes he could read minds so that he could know whether it's the actual story that interests Leslie, or just the thought that there's more in the world. She also offers light laughter or small smiles at Frank's comments, a fact that sends waves of annoyance through Clint's body language.

Matt really wants them out of his house. It's late, or early, and he's tired. So is Leslie, he can tell, but she tries not to let on to that. Tired or not, having two dangerous men in his house when they clearly don't like each other isn't exactly a comforting situation for Matt to be in. Even less of one he wants Leslie in.

"Food's ordered," he says as Clint's story ends, causing all three heads to turn in his direction. "Someone's gonna have to go get it cause they don't deliver."

"I don't think it should be me," Frank announces as he props a foot on Matt's coffee table. "I got shot earlier." Leslie tenses slightly at the statement and Frank shakes his head. "Ah, don't worry about it kid," he assures lazily, moving the hand from the back of the couch to ruffle Leslie's hair. "It was a graze. Barely broke skin."

Matt can tell it actually went through the middle of his left thigh and that he's in quite a lot of pain. In fact, he may even be running a fever from a mild infection because it was treated so quickly. Maybe he should call Clare. Leslie probably needs a check-up anyway.

"I'm not leaving either," Clint says, his voice light even though everyone can tell he's not. "I just got here and I have to talk. . .business with Matt."

Not a lie, a nervously told truth. Clint is dodging the answer and Matt is worried about the impending-

"What kind of business?" Frank asks skeptically, the sudden darkening of his tone causing Leslie to tense. "What's so important that you can't say it in front of us?"

Matt hears Clint's teeth grind together tightly and Matt decides that it's time to intervene. "Both of you calm down," he says sternly. "If you keep it up, you're going to upset Leslie."

"We're not getting worked up," Frank assures in the same tone as before, tight and trying to be light. "We're just having a conversation."

And suddenly, Clint is relaxed, making Matt question whether or not his previous anger was real or not. "Yeah," he practically yawns. "Just talking. But I still can't tell you. That would really upset the kid."

Frank's temper takes a bit longer to quell, but Leslie looks at him with a questioning tilt of the head and he ruffles her hair again. "Then why don't you and Red go get the food so you can have your little talk?" Frank offers lightly, draping the arm over the back of the couch again and sinking back into his seat. "I'll watch the kid and it'll be ok."

The sincerity of the offer causes Matt to pause and consider it. If he had to make an honest list of who Leslie would be safest with beside himself, Frank would definitely be close to the top. His military background, fighting skills, and natural parental instincts means nothing would even get close to hurting Leslie if the situation should arise. However, his temper is the one thing that makes Matt hesitate. Once something sets Frank off, he's off. With that being said, Matt does notice how he's trying to keep it under control around Leslie, and the fact that Leslie already trusts him. . .

"Alright," Matt relents with a huff. "Clint, you're coming with me. Frank, you're staying here with Leslie."

Frank mock salutes as Clint huffs and pushes himself to his feet. "If you think this is a good idea, then fine," Clint mutters as he grabs his bow and quiver and slings both over his shoulder. "Let's go."

"I have to change," Matt reminds, motioning to his Daredevil suit as he walks to his dresser. He grabs a set of clothes, jeans and a T-shirt, and makes his way back to the bathroom. He changes quickly and decides to just leave the suit in the bathroom since everyone in the room knows he's Daredevil, and he's just going to toss it somewhere later anyway. He leaves the bathroom and grabs his cane from the wall, grabbing his glasses, keys, and wallet from the table by the door before calling Clint and heading out.

Frank waves as Matt and Clint leave, not waiting till the door is fully closed before reaching for the remote and asking Leslie about what type of TV she watches. Matt also hears the clink of the gun strapped to his ankle as it hits the table he props his foot on, but Leslie doesn't seem to notice. Matt decides that there's no point in going back and remedying the situation if Leslie isn't bothered by it.

"Is this really a good idea?" Clint asks as he and Matt make their way down the building's main staircase, "leaving the Punisher with Leslie? We both know he's dangerous, right?"

Matt sighs and nods, going through the blind motions and moving his cane back and forth as they walk. "He is," he agrees tiredly, "but he also has a lot of training that makes him one of the safest people for Leslie to be around. He's good with keeping people safe. He's saved Karen a few times and even helped me once. Besides, Leslie trusts him, so that has to count for something."

Clint pauses as they reach the bottom of the stairs and head out into the night, moving with Matt as they make their way to the restaurant. "Fine," he huffs. "I can't argue with that kid's judgement. From what I've read, she's been through a lot so she knows her stuff."

Matt's eyebrows shoot up in alarm and he turns his head to Clint. "What do you mean?" he asks quickly "What did you read?"

Clint clears his throat as a couple of men pass by, then continues in a quieter voice. "Those papers we grabbed that night," he reminds, causing Matt's heart rate to quicken in anticipation. "They had a lot of information about a lot of. . .they called them merchandise. Kids like Leslie. Transaction reports mainly, a profile or three. Someone was sloppy and left a whole lot of useful shit. About three pages alone were on your kid."

Another spike in Matt's heart rate. Clint continues.

"They picked her up five years ago," he informs, his tone going quieter and colder as he relates the information. He likes what he's saying about as much as Matt likes hearing it. Which means not at all. "Snatched her from her family when they were going home from a kid's party. She had a brother. . ." Matt's heart stops. "He didn't make it." Clint takes a moment to clear his throat. "They put her out two days after they got her. She used to fight. . ."

Matt needs the conversation to end. "Did they have any locations?" he says, his throat tight with both rage and sorrow at the story. "Names of buyers? Anything?"

Clint nods. "Not a whole lot," he says as Matt leads him around a corner, "two of the more recent locations and a few holding spots."

Matt nods solemnly as Clint loops an arm around his and pulls him to a stop at the end of a sidewalk. "I need them," he says coldly. "Whatever you have, I need it."

"What are you going to do, Matt?" Clint asks, his tone more serious than Matt can ever remember him using. "Do you plan on stopping them by yourself?"

"I'm not going to ask Frank," Matt replies sourly. "He'll just go in and kill everyone. Your Avengers schedule isn't reliable so I can't ask you."

"I'm too invested to give up now," Clint says, nudging Matt forward and off the sidewalk to move again. "Plus I don't think the Avengers are going to be coming together anytime soon. I could help with a few spots before something comes up."

Matt shakes his head. "I don't want a known Avenger getting involved," he starts. "If that gets around, there's a good chance that they'll scatter and we won't be able to save most of the kids. If I go in alone, they'll take it as a challenge. I was already approached a little while ago."

"When?"

"I forget. But they made it very clear that they're looking for Leslie."

"All the more reason you need back up," Clint enforces. "You don't honestly believe you're going to be able to take on a full human trafficking rink by yourself, do you?"

"I don't have a choice."

The conversation is forced to a stop when Matt turns into the Chinese restaurant, quick to give his number for the pick-up order. Clint also mentions that he's an Avenger and happily accepts the offered discount for his services. Matt actually manages to crack a smile at the gesture. After about five minutes, their order is done and Matt pays the discounted price, letting Clint carry the food as he takes the lead back home. Unsurprisingly, the return trip is silent between the two men, both tense from the previous conversation and unable to find the right words to say to each other.

However, despite the tension, Matt is able to relax slightly when he reaches the apartment building and hears Frank teaching Leslie different knots with a shoelace from his boot. At least there's some sense of normalcy in his not normal life. Then he starts to frown at the fact that he thought of the Punisher teaching his stolen human traffick kid knot tying as he leads an Avenger back home with Chinese food normal. How did his life come to this?

Matt unlocks the door and both Frank and Leslie look up, Leslie's heart rate jumping in surprise and Frank's in anticipation. Normal.

"Food," Clint calls, causing both people on the couch to relax and Lucky to jump up and meet his owner at the door. "No. Lucky, stop."

"Hey," Frank responds, untying the most recent knot and handing the lace over to Leslie. "Here, your turn."

Matt does crack a smile as Leslie's fingers fumble through the motions of making the knot, snagging the food from Clint as he fights with Lucky and moving through the apartment and setting the bag on the kitchen counter. "You guys wanna eat?" he calls to the couch duo as Frank points out a missed step.

"Yeah, give us a second," Frank calls as Leslie corrects the mistake. "She's got a knack for knots, Red," he comments proudly as Clint and Lucky return. "You should see if she could join the scouts."

"She's probably too old," Matt responds as Clint grabs Lucky's leash from the chair he occupied earlier. "They won't take her."

"Plus, aren't parents or legal guardians the only ones who can sign kids up?" Clint offers, hooking the leash to Lucky's collar and straightens. "Or can anyone just put a kid up?"

It's in that moment that Matt remembers Leslie isn't his actual child.

"I'm going to walk Lucky," Clint announces as he starts for the door. "Don't eat my food."

"No promises," Frank responds happily, a smile working on his face when Leslie tugs the string and completes the knot. "Great job, kid," he says, using one hand to take back the lace and the other to ruffle her hair yet again. "Let's eat."

Matt feels a swell of pride at Leslie's ability to pick up on knotting so quickly, but it's quickly snubbed out when he remembers that Leslie still isn't his kid. One day, she's going to have to leave, be it back to her family or in police custody so they can take the next step. Either way, he told himself not to get attached, and yet here they are.

"You hear me, Red?" Frank asks, suddenly in front of Matt and waving a hand in front of his face. Clint opens and exits from the apartment door and Lucky quickly takes the lead in leaving the apartment. Frank continues to talk. "We're starving over here."

"Right," Matt says, reaching in the back and setting aside his and Clint's food before handing Frank his and Leslie's and a couple of forks. "Here ya go."

Frank nods gratefully and returns to the couch, handing over her food and a fork before reclaiming his seat beside her. Leslie nods gratefully as she opens her container. "Thank you."

Matt's heart swells. Yes she just started talking, but she's already spoken more today than she has in the past few days. She's getting more comfortable around him and everything that comes with it.

His heart breaks. Should she really be getting attached to a place she's not going to stay? One day she's going to have to move on.

Leslie laughs quietly at something Frank says, though the words he said are lost to Matt. All he can focus on is the fact that her heart rate is almost at normal levels. She's calm. She's safe and she knows it. Yes, Frank is helping, and so is Clint, but Matt continuously felt and feels Leslie looking to him to make sure that he's still there. She still sees him as a source of comfort. Meaning she's gotten just as attached to him as he has to her. How is he supposed to leave her like this?

"Oh, hey Red?" Frank says around his mouthful of food. "I do wanna know what you and Hawkeye talked about on your little walk later."

Shit.

Ok, I know this is so fucking late, but I hope that this chapter is good enough to make up for it. If not. . . Eh. I can't promise anything as always, cause now I also have an Archive of Our Own account and a few stories working on there. Either way, I haven't forgotten about this even though it seems I have. I just got done with my freshman year of college and I work and life in general, but still. Here!

Thank you for your patience with me! Please Follow , Favorite, Comment, whatever! Thanks, you guys are awesome!