Dreams Stay Big, Worries Stay Small

Sitting on the quinjet, Clint was looking forward to getting back home. It was a weird feeling that he was slowly getting used to. Until that first op in New Mexico, Clint never really thought beyond the mission. And when not on one, he was antsy for the next one, going so far as to bother Phil into sending him out on minor ops.

Then he met Darcy Elizabeth Lewis (Stark).

All he was supposed to do was be the eyes while in Puente Antiguo. Watching the Asgardian alien-god take down an entire team of agents more than made up for being in the middle of nowhere. Finding a girl was like adding icing to the cake.

While getting a beer when off-duty, he met the spitfire assistant for their latest mark. One beer turned into two, into four, and him walking her back to the lab and a kiss on his cheek.

He was smitten.

Somehow, that evening turned into spending all his off-duty time with her. She managed to convince him to help her get her iPod back, so much as turning a blind eye when she hacked her way onto the base and stole it from under Phil's fingers (not really, because seriously, Phil had eyes everywhere, but she did take it from his office when Phil was off base).

More drinks between them. More kisses goodnight.

He was more than smitten.

They traded numbers, spoke on the phone when they could, texted when they couldn't. For once, Clint had someone worrying about him when he went out on an op. Tasha and Phil didn't count since they were normally on the op with him. But Darcy. Whenever he would call her after getting back, the sound of her voice made everything worth it.

Before her, SHIELD was just a job. A means to get his record clear, turned into just living, of not being dead. With her in his life, it became more than that. He now understood why Phil did it. Why Fury and Hill worked so hard. Granted, for them it was more of a general sense, but Clint understood it now. He was working to protect a loved one back home.

It felt good.

That is, until he was used to seeing her on a more regular basis.

The first year of their relationship, if you added all the facetime together, was perhaps a month or so. Darcy didn't trust her math, but that's what she told him it was.

And that was fine. An afternoon or a weekend when he could manage was more than enough. Not to wax poetic, and he'd deny it to anyone and everyone, but her lips were like heavenly clouds, kissing them was just...

"Agent. We're ten minutes out."

Clint nodded at the junior agent flying him back to New York. It was weird. Being on an op without the team. Not even Natasha was on this one. But Sitwell knew that Clint wasn't interested in anything long-term, so he was only sent for missions with week-long durations at most, two-weeks if things went FUBAR (almost a month, that one time, forcing Sitwell to really consider the ops he sent the Hawkeye on). Natasha was working with Steve, and while Clint wasn't supposed to know, he knew it had to do with a Red Room operative. So he wouldn't deny Tasha the chance to work on that mission just cause he missed his partner.

Plus the woman found him being all lovesick disgusting.

To each their own.

Where was he? Oh, right. Seeing Darcy right after the Battle of New York (And what sort of name was that? The place was attacked every other month.) was a blessing in disguise. After getting his head knocked straight (he still owed Tasha for that), going immediately into a warzone didn't afford him the time to really think about what happened while he was under. The two-days between that and sending Loki home, he was too busy in debriefings and helping with the cleanup to really stew in his thoughts.

So seeing her, holding her in his arms, kissing her, it made it easy to forget all his problems. That is, until she forced him to talk about it. It was still an ongoing issue, one where he would make a random statement, and that would be that. Or he would actually sit there and have a full blown conversation about how he felt about planning the Helicarrier attack and the guilt he had for the death of Phil.

Like he said, ongoing issue. They were working on it.

She stayed though, held him through his nightmares, kissed him just because. He loved the woman, and yeah, they'd only been together for just over a year, but while he was in Belgium for the mission, he swung by Antwerp to pick up the perfect gift for the upcoming Christmas holiday.

The small velvet box was sitting in his bow case.

He loved Darcy, and intended to spend the rest of his life with her. Clint knew that this life wasn't really meant for settling down and being a normal family. But that was the thing about Darcy. She didn't do normal. She was the kid of Tony Stark, and was allergic to normal (her words).

Before he even knew that she was Tony's daughter, after their first weekend spent together, he had asked her if she could do this, handle a relationship with a man who would be gone on missions.

He'll never forget what she told him. "I'm used to it. My dad, he does what he has to to protect me. What you're doing. It's in order to protect me, too. Just be smart, be as safe as you can, and return home to me.

And that's what she was. She was his home.

"Clint!" Darcy shouted, running across the rooftop, jumping up into him, wrapping arms and legs around his torso.

Grinning, he breathed her in. "Darcy."

"I missed you," she cried into his neck.

"Hey, hey." He walked back towards the elevator. "Don't cry."

Sliding off him, she kept her arms around him. "They're happy tears. You're home. Are you hurt?"

"Naw," he shrugged. "Easy mission. Only took too long cause the mark kept moving about the city. Couldn't get a good shot till a few days ago."

"Do you have to debrief? Sitwell isn't here." Twining her fingers into his, she pulled him out of the elevator towards their suite.

"Already did. Came straight here after." He pushed her into the wall, giving her a kiss to make up for the week he was gone.

Pushing him away enough so that she could breath, she spoke into his lips. "What was that for?"

"I missed you."

"Missed you too." Giving him a chaste kiss, she pulled him into their home. Dragging him onto the couch, she shoved him down, and straddled his hips. "Do you need to clean up?"

"No. This. This is good." He pulled her into him, licking along the seam of her lips, begging entrance.

"Wait," she huffed, "I want to talk to you first." Pulling back so she sat on his knees, she looked him in the eyes.

Wary, and a little apprehensive, he tried to pull her into one more kiss. Girl was strong though and held her place, hands firmly placed on his shoulders keeping her at length.

"I'm serious."

Arching a brow, he gave her a dubious look.

"It's nothing bad." She told him, followed with a quiet mutter of "At least I hope not?"

"Darce, just talk to me. You never have problems talking." He wanted to laugh, but he was worried. Maybe this mission was the one that was the one too many. Maybe in the week he was gone, she realized that she couldn't handle it, that their love wasn't enough, that-

"Well. Okay. So just shut up and let me talk," she interrupted. Clint focused on her eyes. They didn't look sad, more scared than anything. He had really only seen that look once, that night Tony kept them from enjoying a tryst in the media room. He rubbed her back, trying to convey that he would be there for her no matter what.

"Is it Tony?"

"No, you idiot. Just let me talk." She playfully shoved him, but kissed his cheek as well. Making herself comfortable, she moved forward so that she rested on his thighs, steepling her fingers at the base of his head, thumbs playing with the short hairs on his neck. "Just. Okay. Don't freak out. Because I already did that, and we both know me freaking out is enough for the both of us. But like. You see. You remember when you were on that mission. The one in Jakarta. And okay, I know I'm not supposed to know that. JARVIS don't let anyone know I know that."

"Of course, Darcy," the AI voiced, giving Darcy a chance to breathe and for Clint to try and figure out what she was trying to say.

"So yeah. You were in Jakarta for like, two weeks, and it was the first really long mission you had gone on since we moved in together. I wasn't used to you being gone, and all that. And I was sick for a few days. I think I told you that. Well, Bruce had me on this antibiotic that did funny things to my birth control. And I only know this because I was having some serious cramps that I don't normally get and that's what Bruce told me. Well, I totally forgot about it, because the cramps went away and I stopped being sick. Then you came home, and I was so happy to see you and we practically had sex on the roof. Again, JARVIS, don't tell anyone about that. Especially dad."

"Of course, Darcy."

Clint was a little confused, but if what he was hearing was what he was comprehending, then he believed he knew where Darcy was going with this.

"You're pregnant," he said, voice as expressionless as possible, face blank. He thinks he's excited about this. Actually, he knows he's excited about this. But she's hyperventilating in his lap, so maybe it isn't a good thing? "Yay?" he quips, lifting the side of his mouth a tad, just in case he needs to pretend to be unhappy at a moment's notice.

"Well, to me its a yay thing," she answered, staring at his shoulder. Her hands are fingering through his hair, making him sigh. "Is it a yay thing for you?" He can see her forcing herself to look him in the eye. Her back straightened, daring him to tell her this is a terrible thing.

"Well," he responded. He has to be honest. "I'm more anxious than excited at this very moment." And it's the truth. Bringing a kid into the world is a big deal, and he already worries about Darcy's safety. At least she can protect herself. Adding a miniture person to the mix is just asking for trouble. "How old were you when you got a taser?" He snarked, stopping the frown from forming on Darcy's face.

Giggling, she kissed his cheek. "I was eleven. And our kid won't be getting a taser until way past that. You and Nat can teach our kid hand-to-hand. And Steve can teach the kid to box. And Bruce can teach the kid martial arts. And dad will. Well, we won't let dad around the kid without supervision."

Chuckling, he pulled Darcy into a hug. "Tony won't like that."

"Well, he wasn't allowed alone with me for like, the first year. Nana was always around. Which I guess is good, otherwise I'd have lived in a dirty diaper. And eew. You're totally on diaper duty for putting me in this mess."

"Excuse me." Nibbling at her shoulder, he placed a hand on her stomach. "Didn't you just say you were sick and it was your birth control that went faulty? I think that means, it's you whose at fault here."

"Semantics." Shrugging, she kissed the tip of his nose.

"We can share the blame?" He asked, as he pulled them off the couch and started walking towards their bedroom.

The combination of 'I miss you' sex, 'welcome home' sex, and 'celebratory' sex should have tired him out. Darcy is laying in his arms, face resting in the crook of his neck, hand right over his heart. It was invigorating, that's for sure, but while Clint's body is tired, his mind can't rest.

He's going to be a dad.

A dad.

The idea of it is sort of freaking him out. He maintains a steady breathing pattern, avoiding waking up his girlfriend. She's right about how Darcy could freak out enough for the both of them. But the idea of impending parenthood. It's just...

Mind-boggling.

Clint doesn't really have any father figure to base off of. And he knows Darcy probably has similar hangups from the mother front, but (and he'd never say this out loud) at least she had a parental figure, and decent adults in her life.

Who does Clint have to look up to?

His dad was a drunk, killed himself and Clint's mom in a car crash when Clint was six.

All his foster parents were in it for the money provided by the state. Not to help out the kids.

And the circus folk. Swordsman and Trickshot. They weren't really parental figures. Mentos, maybe. At least until Clint knew better.

The only person he could ever truly count on was Barney. And even that went south.

So really? Who could Clint look up to? He always had an issue with authority figures (see previous authority figures), and the first one he ever managed to respect took ten years to happen. And now Phil was gone.

Would his kid hate him? Would Clint be like all the others? And if somehow, miraculously, he managed to impersonate Agent Coulson, would it take until his kid was over the age of ten to respect him?

And was respect what he wanted?

When really, Clint knew, what he wanted most, was love. His kid could hate him for all he cared, as long as, deep down, the kid loved him. That's all he wanted.

It took Clint a long time to figure out that out. Sure, he probably would have figured it out a lot sooner if he listened to Phil and went to the mandated shrink sessions. But whatever, ten years later is better than never, right?

So Clint had issues with believing he deserved love, deserved good people in his life. He would purposely set himself up to disappoint others, believing it was inevitable (see past authority figures, again).

And yeah, for a good while, he had questioned when he would finally drive Darcy away. Hadn't he thought he finally managed that, just earlier that night? And now they were going to have a kid together.

A kid.

There was going to be a little being that was half him.

"Hey," Darcy mumbled, kissing his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

"I will," he kissed her temple.

"You're going to make a great dad."

He couldn't hold back the grin. So what if he was apprehensive. So what if he didn't really know how to be a dad. He made it this far in his life without knowing what he was doing.

And he'd have Darcy at his side all the way.