Skye froze.

'Shit. ' She muttered to herself. Tasha suddenly stood up, and Tony shrank back. Tasha ignored him, just standing there, clenching her fists. She looked at Skye, her face unreadable, before she swept out of the room.

'Tasha!' Skye called after her, but she was gone. The room was filled with silence.

'Well, that was unexpected,' Tony tried to joke, using humour as his go-to tension diffuser. Steve threw him a glare, and Clint stood up. He didn't say anything, as he walked up to Tony. In a flash, Tony was on the floor, clutching his face.

'What the hell?! You punched me!' He moaned, before Clint swiftly left the room, presumably to console Tasha. 'Skye?'

'I.. We..' Skye managed to stutter out, before blushing profusely. 'I thought they would have told you.. But, Clint and Tasha are my parents... I, umm, I met them for the first time yesterday.'

The Avengers, except the two assassins, stared at Skye in shock.

'Wait.. You don't actually know them?' Steve asked.

Tony groaned, before he got up from the floor. 'Now I understand the punch, why cant I shut my mouth?!'

'Yeah, you are going to regret that, I think Clint broke your face.' Bruce piped up.

'I need a drink.' Tony whined. Skye snorted, he wasn't the only one. She remembered seeing a mini fridge in her apartment, and hoped to god it was stocked.

'Well, this has all been too incredibly awkward, I'm just gonna go... Okay.' Skye got up, and walked over to the elevator, ignoring the other's worried glances.

'Hey, Jarvis, take me to the 15th floor, please.'

'Right away, Miss Skye.' Jarvis responded.

As the elevator fell, Skye frowned.

'Jarvis, where is Tasha?' Skye asked, her tone worried.

'Mrs Romanov is currently in the Gym, on the 19th floor. Would you like me to send you there?'

'No,' Sky hastily responded, 'Is Clint with her?'

'Yes, Miss Skye, Mr Barton is currently with her.'

'Good.'

Clint heard the sound of pounding, as he entered the gym. Tasha stood, her back facing him, furiously attacking a punching bag.

'Tasha.' Clint said tentatively.

'Go away.' Tasha responded, without pausing her attack.

'No. We're in this together, remember.' Clint stubbornly refused.

'I'm fine.' Her voice was deadpan, letting in no emotion.

'Really? Because you forgot to wrap your hands.' Tasha looked down at her hands, and saw her knuckles, slightly swollen, and bleeding. She stopped punching, and paused.

'That doesn't mean anything,' she finally muttered.

Clint snorted in disbelief.

'Sure. And you can beat me in a fair fight.' Disbelief clear in his voice.

'I can beat you in a fair fight... Idiot,' Tasha spoke up, her voice louder than before.

Clint smiled. 'There's the Natasha Romanov I know and love.'

Tasha finally turned around, and faced Clint. His heart almost broke at the emotions across her face. She had no guard up; right now, she wasn't the Widow, she was Natasha.

Clint reached forward, and pulled her into a deep hug. Tasha seemed to sink into him, embracing the warmth and stability he always brought her.

'I love you, Carrot top.' Clint whispered.

Tasha groaned. 'Always have to ruin a moment, don't you?'

Clint just grinned.

'I love you too, idiot.'

Clint's grin dissolved into a soft smile. Leaning down, he gave her a gentle kiss, pouring all his love into the action. Pulling away, after a moment of staring into Tasha's eyes, Clint looked down at Tasha's hands.

He frowned, before taking Tasha gently by the wrists. He pulled her over to a table in the corner of the gym, and sat her down. Quickly finding one of the many first aid kits stashed in the gym, he sat down beside Tasha, and placed her hands in his lap.

Tasha's eyes started to water, as she saw the care and gentleness he took, as he began to clean her wounds.

'Thank you,' Tasha spoke, as Clint started to wrap up her hands. She still wasn't used to someone looking after her, even after years of it.

Clint smiled, 'Its okay. Make sure to wrap your hands next time, especially when you are working so... Vigorously.'

Tasha laughed. 'I will.'

They both remained quiet, for a couple of minutes. It wasn't an awkward silence, rather one that felt comfortable. They just enjoyed each others presence. Tasha's hands were still in Clint's lap, and he brushed his fingers over her palm, running down the lines on her hand, as if memorising every trace.

'I punched Tony. He upset you.' Clint admitted, out of the blue.

Tasha shrugged, 'It wouldn't be the first time, and definitely wont be the last... It's fine, though, he didn't know.'

Clint frowned, but didn't say anything. He knew he wasn't really angry at Tony. He was angry at himself, for not being there for Tasha when she gave birth. Angry that he couldn't tell something was wrong. He had failed as a husband and as a father.

'Besides, he wasn't wrong. I'm not Skye's mother. I may have carried her for 9 months, and given birth to her, but I wasn't there when it matters. I'm not her mother.' Tasha stated this, as if it were fact. No room for argument.

It didn't matter though, Clint wasn't going to argue. He didn't bullshit around the truth.

'You're right. Neither of us were there for her. We should have been, even if it was as strangers, we should have known her.' He paused, and frowned. 'We failed her, but we're here now. We can never make up for the lost time, but we can be here for her now. We can make a difference in her life, help her find happiness. One day, she might even love us. That is all we can strive for now. Putting Skye first.'

Tasha looked up from where Clint was fiddling with her hands. She looked him in the eye, and nodded.

'Putting Skye first.' She murmured, before slipping her hand into his, linking fingers. She stood up, pulling Clint with her.

'Come on, we should apologize to the others.'

Once Skye made it back to the apartment, she found the not-so-mini mini bar. It was stocked to the brim, with just about everything. She had so much choice, that Skye just grabbed a six pack of beer, and a bottle of Vodka. Sometimes you just had to go simple.

She walked through the large expanse that was her apartment now, and finally settled on the sofa, in front of the TV. Grabbing the remote, she flicked through the channels, before she landed on a random reality TV show, about rich girls. Making a game of it, she took a shot every time a girl bitched about another, or whined. She was going to get pissed.

After the 3rd or 4th shot, Skye started sipping at a beer, instead of the Vodka. Pulling out her phone, she soon became distracted by watching her teams snap chats. She smiled as she was videos of FitzSimmons arguing, and shots of a Mediterranean island that they had gone to, after dropping her off, for a mission.

The one that really made the tears start to fall, was a simple photo taken by May in the cock pit. It was a shot of the sunset, from high above the clouds, and was breath taking. It was accompanied by the caption,

'Not the same without you in Co-pilot. We miss you.'

Skye smiled through the tears. She and May hadn't been on the best of terms, but they had an unspoken rule. When ever things got tough, they would watch the sky from the cock pit. They didn't speak, just sat, and watched the sun go down. It was all kinds of soothing, and right now, it was all she needed.

Skye chugged the rest of her beer, and stood up. She swayed slightly, her peripheral starting to go fuzzy, but she was okay. Grabbing the rest of her beer, she headed to the elevator. Directing Jarvis to head to the top floor, she waited, humming along to the AC/DC that was playing in the back ground. When the doors finally opened, Skye looked down the corridor. It was empty, save for a pile of blankets, next to a door. Skye shrugged, before grabbing one, and opening the door.

Skye knew it would be cold, but she wasn't expecting the great rush of wind that met her head on. She stumbled, the alcohol not helping her balance, but righted herself quickly. She cautiously walked to the edge of the roof, and looked over. Skye let out a sigh of relief, when she saw an outcropping ledge, about two meters below, and a couple of meters wide.

Skye sat herself down, dangling her legs over the edge, and took her first look across the New York sky line. It was beautiful, bright lights, shining all over the city in stark contrast to the dark sky. She felt emotion swell in her stomach. She was looking down on hundreds of lives, each crossing paths and intermingling. Hundreds of homes, and families, all oblivious to what was going on around them. Blissfully ignorant. It was quite a view. But it wasn't home. Not yet. It only served to remind her how far away she was from her own family.

Skye sighed. These thoughts were much too deep for her fuzzy mind. She opened another beer, and took a long gulp. She set it down beside her, and drew the blanket she had taken around herself. She sat there, for what seemed like hours, in silence, until she was out of alcohol, and was starting to sober up.

She sighed, again, before she heard the door back inside open. She remained where she sat, not looking away from the slowly dwindling mass of lights in front of her. It seemed New York did sleep, only in the very early hours of the morning.

She felt the gravel shift beside her, as the newcomer sat down.

'I see you found my favourite spot.'

Clint.

'I like the view. It reminds me of home.' Skye spoke, barely audible.

'It seems we have that in common. When I was in the circus, we would travel the rural America. We would sleep in bare fields, and often I would forgo a tent for the stars. It was always so free and uncontrollable. That was my home, for a time.'

Skye nodded, understanding.

'I know this isn't your home, and we aren't your family. You must carry a lot of resentment. I understand. We just want to be here for you now.'

Skye didn't trust herself to speak, instead, she just looked back to the sky line.

'Tony and Tasha made up. And I apologized. It was all very domestic. It was stupid of us not to warn them. Sorry.' Clint said, resuming the conversation, despite a lack of an answer.

Skye looked at him. 'It's okay. Easy mistake.'

'You know, we were going to name you Daisy. I think I like Skye better though.' Clint said, before getting up.

'Good night Skye.'

Skye looked up at Clint, tears in her eyes. 'I want to move past this. I just don't know how.'

Clint smiled. 'You wont have to do it alone. Not this time.'

Clint left, leaving the door slightly ajar. Skye sighed, and picked herself up. It had been a rollercoaster of a day. Following in the direction Clint had gone, she made it back to the elevator. Jarvis soon sent her to her floor, and she meandered her way to her room, stopping to place the vodka back in the bar, before she made her way to bed. Skye's thoughts lingered to Tasha, as she drifted of to sleep. She would speak to her tomorrow, she needed to clear the air.

With a sigh, she drifted off. Tomorrow was a new day, hopefully one with less surprises. Skye knew that was probably too much to ask, life never ended out that way.

Hey guys, sorry for the late update, I mixed up which fic i was meant to write for by the weekend. Thanks for being patient. So this one was a lil boring in my opinion, so sorry. Let me know what you think :)