So much for updating every Friday. Sorry for the delay, I'll be on time for the next ^^"

I only own my twisted mind here. Read and enjoy :)

STRAYS

*Chapter 3*

Jeremy Romanoff was no ordinary child. At first glance, he appeared normal; he was your average eight year old kid, sandy curly hair with blue eyes (his father's, or so mom said) and a good-looking face (his mother's, and he tended to agree). Yet, many things separated him from other kids his age. Staring with his striking intelligence. He was eight, yes, and had jumped into 5th grade the moment the teachers realized he was utterly bored in 2nd grade. He could do better, of course, but he liked 5th grade. His friends were there, and teachers tended to dislike students smarter than them. And again, mom always said he had time before being dragged into the adult world.

Then, there was the matter of his family. Or surrogate family. Two aunts, three uncles and ten cousins living together in a huge building divided in separate apartments they nicknamed 'The Residence'. His mom and he had a big apartment of their own in the building, but since she was often out for work, Jeremy often lived with an aunt or uncle. Uncle Oliver mostly, since he never got out…

"M. Romanoff, are you with us?"

Jeremy stiffened on his seat and realized his teacher and the whole class was staring at him.

"Sorry, ma'am" he muttered, lowering his eyes. Mrs. Carter nodded and carried on with her lesson. Both knew this was just a way of asserting the teacher's authority over the boy. Jeremy might often be lost in his own little world, but he aced all tests every time so as long as he pretended to listen, Mrs. Carter mostly let him be. Besides, Jeremy liked Mrs. Carter, so apologizing was fair game. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Gillian wincing and next to her, her sister Sophie rolled her eyes. He replied with a nonchalant shrug. For some reason since he'd join their class, the Hill twins had been extremely protective towards him. He didn't mind though. His classmates thought he was a freak and would have teased or bully him a lot more had it not been for the girls.

He didn't need protection though. His mom was a special top secret agent in a top secret organization. All of his aunts and uncles were special top secret agents and the Hill twins' mother was their super secret boss. He knew that because his mom had told him when he had asked her why she was gone so often and sometimes so long. She had made him pinkie-swear that he'd keep it a secret and to bribe him further, had taught him how to fight. Jeremy knew he could take down the bullies if he wanted to, but mom had also insisted he didn't start a fight if he could avoid it and he wasn't a violent kid to begin with. Hence the Hill twins overprotective behavior.

The teasing was always about his physical appearance (girly face they said, because yeah fine, he had his mom's features) or his nonexistent father. True, Jeremy had grown without someone to call 'dad', but he had grown surrounded by a very loving mom and people who liked him. While his mom had no problem talking about him, she hadn't told Jeremy the whole story, just bits and parts. But the kid was patient; he knew he'd have his answers in time.

The bell rang. The teacher ordered silence and gave them last instructions before setting them free. Gillian waited for him –her sister wanted out ASAP and ran out ASAP- and walked him through the door. As they stepped out of the school yard and out of the gates, Jeremy wondered who would bring them home today. He was about to ask Gillian when he spotted a flash of red hair in the crowd. A huge grin grew over his face.

"Mom!"

Natasha spotted him seconds after his cry. Her boy was there, standing next to Gillian –or was it Sophie? She could never make the difference from afar. She matched his smile with one of her own, took off her sunglasses. She had reached the Residence –the STRAYS unofficial living quarters- a little after noon, giving her enough time to wash up and tell Oliver she'd be picking up her son today. She had been gone nearly three weeks this time and missed him like crazy. So when he came running at her, she didn't hesitate and crouched with her arms wide open to pull him into a tight-crushing hug. Needless to say, she'll be spoiling him rotten in the upcoming days.

"Hey ребенок, how are you?"

Jeremy grinned as he pulled back and stared down at his mother. She was still crouching to be at his eye level, her hands holding his smaller ones tightly; her way of saying that everything was okay.

"Fine мама I didn't know you were coming back today."

"I finished earlier than planned." She stood up and messed with his hair. The boy shrieked in protest but the laughing in his eyes washed the seriousness away.

"Hey Natasha!" Both Jeremy and the woman glanced on the right and realized the Hill twins had just joined them. The redhead smiled and bent over to hug them. "Is Oliver still coming or are we going with you?" Gillian asked right away.

"No, I'm just here for Jer." The redhead replied apologetically. The faint disappointment on both faces told her they were hoping their mother had managed to get out of work early too. "Sorry girls. But Maria will be there for dinner; I think she mentioned going to the restaurant." A glint of excitement cheered the girls a little. In the background, Natasha spotted a plump man already surrounded by two kids waving at her. "Oliver is waiting for you over there. I'll see you girls later."

They parted ways –Natasha kept an eye open to make sure the twins were well under Oliver's supervision- before taking her son's hand and walking to the car. Jeremy jumped into the back seat and once all the doors were shut, asked:

"How long are you staying this time?"

Natasha glanced at him through in the mirror.

"Until I get another call, I don't have any trips planned for the near future." He beamed. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

He hummed, a pensive expression over his face, but she knew it was faked; her boy always wanted to do the same things when she was around and being permissive.

"Gym, shooting range, McDonalds, gym again, the baseball stadium, the couch to watch TV and park for soccer." Pause. "In whatever order" Natasha laughed.

"We can do McDonalds this evening. I thought you'd wanted to go to the amusement park; I heard there were quite a few shooting ranges there."

"Seriously?" his eyes glittered with sudden envy. "I didn't even know there was an amusement park!"

"About two hours away. I know I said none of that during the week, but tomorrow is Saturday and you can sleep in." She paused and winked in the review. "I think Oliver mentioned a couple of fun houses too."

"Then what the hec-" Natasha raised an eyebrow and Jeremy grinned sheepishly. "What are we waiting for?"

The redhead smiled and turned the engine on. The boy settled comfortably on the seat and started humming off-tune along with the radio and Natasha pushed any negative thoughts of Clint or her work in the back of her mind. She was firmly decided to enjoy her time with her son until Hill called her back in.

One week later

"I'm quite sure you're not to be discharge until at least another week, Agent."

Barton glanced up and rolled his eyes inwardly. After being stunned by morphine and spending hell to make his muscles work again, the archer had been planning to slip in his clothes and sneak out of the medical ward. Unfortunately, fate had other plans in mind –or Maria Hill knew him too well. Not an hour went by without someone stepped through the threshold to check on him. After the nurses came Bobbi his ex-wife, then his handler Coulson, then his boss Fury, then his colleague Jasper, then his poker buddies Marisa, Harrison and Wayne, then the cook Jane, then the pilot Higgins…It was only a matter of time before the man showed up.

Tall, blue-eyed, blonde, awesome leadership skills, Steve Rogers was one of the biggest secret of SHIELD. Rogers was otherwise known as Captain America, a hero during WW2 who had disappeared in a plane crash. After years of research, SHIELD had found him caught in the ice, had revived him and hired him once he had become tired of brooding and decided to return to the modern world.

Barton and he had been partnered occasionally and surprisingly, the combination had worked out pretty well. Rogers was no assassin, but he was reliable backup and a planner. After three years of cooperation, the archer considered the man as one of the few friends he could trust implicitly, and according to Steve's tendency to hang out with him outside of work, so did he.

"Nice to see you too Rogers."

Steve smiled and stepped inside the room.

"I'm supposed to supervise your second debriefing, since you couldn't recall much last time. Bear with me ten minutes and I'll help you out for two hours."

"Let me guess, Hill issued the order?" Steve laughed and nodded. "She thought I'd be more cooperative with you?"

"Was she wrong?"

"That woman knows me too well." Barton grumbled, sitting on the medical bed, back against the wall. "But still can't remember everything."

"We'll start with what you do." Steve's easy-going smile and accommodating behavior annoyed the archer, but at the same time found it somewhat comforting. Phil usually did the debriefing, but he had a particularly blunt approach that Barton could do without today. Steve let him gather his thoughts with patience, let him find his words. "Start with the trip. How did it go? Did you see anything unusual?"

The memories were a bit vague but Barton managed to gather a few things. They were a team of four, charged to retrieve intel from a secret chemical factory. The flight hadn't been very smooth; half of the team slept and Evans looked ready to puke at any moment –that guy could pull any stunts with any wheeled vehicle, but never handled quinjets very well. After the landing, they had made their way to the industry and infiltration had gone without a hitch. It wasn't until they had reached the control room that…

"They were waiting for us." Barton muttered. "About a dozen guards inside, same number waiting to block our exit road. Not exceedingly trained, but good enough to take us down one by one. We didn't stand a chance."

"I see." Steve said gently. "What about after?"

The man frowned as he summoned his memories. They were perhaps clearer than a few days ago, but still based on impressions.

"Things are kinda fuzzy. They were wearing white blouses, goggles. Couldn't see their face. Just remember the scent, the pain, the guys screaming." Barton would have never let the vulnerability slip in his voice, but this was Steve. Steve had gone through his deal of shit and they were friends, he trusted him. "Next thing I know, I wake up in the SHIELD medical staring at the ceiling and Coulson's telling me I'm the only survivor."

"You can't remember anything else?"

Barton hesitated. For a fleeing moment, he was tempted to mention the flash of red and painful scent of lilac he caught in his dreams.

"No." he replied eventually.

Steve nodded, finished scribing some notes and stood up. Barton eyed him with curiosity.

"You did your part, my turn to hold on my word. Let's get you out of here."