Hi, sorry about the delay, I was at a party Monday and didn't make it home until the next morning and then I slept all day, so this is a couple of days late! My bad! Well this is Clint and Bruce's chapter, I think it's pretty cute and hope you guys do to! Thanks so much for all of the reviews/favs/comments! I'm glad people liked Barney's role, he'll be around until the end, he wants to look after his brother! Any way, thanks so much for reading! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

The next day posed a problem. Tony awoke everyone with a message saying they needed to assemble in the briefing room. Barney and Clint tagged along after Steve said it would be okay for them to be in the room. Tony stood at a computer looking more irritated than anything else and Clint worried that something had gone wrong.

"Okay, we just got a distress call from the Friends of Humanity. Maybe some of you don't know them, they're an ant-mutant extremist group. Mostly the X-Men deal with them but this morning we got a call saying that apparently, though no fault of their own, several sentinel robots have been reactivated and are wrecking havoc in the Midwest. I don't think anyone believes that but the sentinel's are real enough." He clicked a key and a holographic screen began playing footage of a giant robot smashing a few dozen trees. "Here's where it gets fun. These morons hate mutants so much that they asked us to only send non-superpowered Avengers to help." Bruce put a hand to his head as though it suddenly hurt. "Ok. I normally would say screw them but sentinels do their best work against people with powers and think in this case it's probably best to send only humans. "Sorry Bruce, you're out. Tell the big guy I said sorry too. I know how much he'd have enjoyed smashing a few of Trask Industries' best work. Thor's in Asguard not that. "Looks like it's me and Cap."

Suddenly seized by a desire to be useful Barney stepped forward. "Can I help any?"

Tony frowned as though he had not considered this. "Hm. Actually you can. Clint. . . grown up Clint has some electromagnetic arrows that knock out machinery. Grab those and meet me on the roof."

Next to Barney Clint looked up in surprised. "You're gonna go fight a robot?" He asked.

Barney put an arm around him and squeezed. "Gotta. I know you would and what kind of brother would I be if I couldn't live up to that?"

Clint gave him a quick hug back.

"Where's Natasha?" Tony asked, looking around. "It'd be nice to have her."

"She's on a solo assignment." Bruce said. "She left a message saying she'd gotten a personal request for help from someone and ran off last night."

"Oh well, not like we could have used back up or anything." Tony sighed. "Alright, lets go."

Clint watched his brother leave on the Quin Jet with worry. Bruce was the only Avenger staying behind while Natasha was still off on her solo job and Thor was in Asguard. He held back timidly, worried about his brother. Glancing up Bruce was watching the jet leave with folded arms. He hung his head. He didn't think Bruce liked him. The man wasn't mean or angry with him but at the same time he was the most distant of all of the Avengers and had avoided being around Clint by himself.

Clint looked up at Bruce nervously. "A-are they gonna be okay?" He asked.

Bruce looked down with apprehension. "Of course. They know what they're doing. Tony and Steve have faced hundreds of people worse than a robot." Clint nodded uncertainly. "And Barney will do just fine. Do you want to go inside now? I can put on a movie."

Clint nodded and followed him back inside. He had never really been nervous about the others going off but somehow when it was his brother he was much ore concerned. Bruce felt for him but held himself back. It wasn't that he didn't like the boy but everything about him made him afraid. He was terrified of going Hulk around the child and every fear and worry Clint possessed he understood and knew too well. It hurt to watch Clint flinch and jump because he felt those same movements in himself.

Inside Clint settled onto the couch and Bruce turned on a movie and left him. He'd rather have been down in the lab or really anywhere else. He was sure he would do something wrong and it so utterly scared him how easily the Hulk could crush the boy. He didn't think it was safe for him to be around Clint and if there had been any other way he would have requested someone else babysit.

With nothing else to do he settled himself in the kitchen with a laptop and messaged Hank Pym who reported that he had hit a dead end and the residue from the particles in Clint's blood was disintegrating. Through a video communication Bruce sighed. "Do you need a new blood sample?"

Hank ran a hand through his hair. "It might be too late. They might have already disappeared from his blood stream. Then again, his body might be incubating them at some level."

"I'll see if I can get Clint to give me another blood sample."

"Okay but I don't expect too much. Is everything okay with him, he's not showing any unusual fever spikes or anything?"

"No, he's been fine. Should we watch for that?"

"No. Yes. Honestly I have no idea what you should be looking for."

Bruce rubbed his eyes. "What's Reed got?"

Hank's expression turned a little sour. "He keeps going on about bringing the particles back with him but he's having trouble locating the exact dimension he found them in. turns out he found it the first time by accident."

Bruce didn't comment on the tone of voice which clearly said Hank thought Reed was full of it and was maybe a little pleased at the other's dilema. "Well anyway, I'll let you know on that blood sample."

"M'kay. I'll be here."

He clicked off and sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was cause Clint any pain and he was terribly afraid that if he did the boy would become afraid of him. Inside he felt the Hulk rumble at his weakness. He pushed the thought aside and stepped into the living room. Clint was sitting cross legged on the couch, staring at the television with rapt attention. Bruce glanced over long enough to see Lynda Carter transform into Wonder Woman in a flurry of motion. "Clint," He said tentatively. The boy looked up. "Clint I was wondering if you would be okay with a quick blood sample."

Clint bit his lip. He didn't like the sound of that.

"I mean, a shot. Just a quick one."

"Why?"

"Well, we need to check to see if the stuff that turned you into a kid is still inside your blood." One glance told him everything he'd just said had gone over the boy's head. "Well. . . it's so we can make sure everything is okay."

Clint frowned but nodded. Bruce was very serious and so he guessed that whatever he was saying was probably important.

"We can do it right here." Bruce said. "Can you roll up your sleeve for me?"

Clint did as he was told and for the first time Bruce saw the shadow of a mostly healed bruise on the boy's wrist. He felt the Hulk strain in anger and averted his eyes from it, focusing instead on tying a tourniquet around Clint's upper arm. Clint made a face when the tourniquet was tightened but remained still. Bruce removed a syringe from his jacket pocket. "This might sting a little but I promise it won't take long."

Clint nodded and looked away, biting his lip as the needle slid into his vein. "Mm." He whimpered.

Bruce smiled encouragingly at him. "Almost done." He drew back the plunger, letting the syringe fill slowly. Finally he removed the needle with as little discomfort as possible and taped a cotton ball over the vein. "Good job. I'll be right back. I'm going to go grab you some orange juice. You're gonna feel a little funny and it will help."

Slightly dazed, Clint nodded, leaning back into the couch.

In the kitchen Bruce put up the vile up and grabbed a glass. Clint had been remarkably calm through the procedure. He was impressed, most kids squirmed and complained. Spotting a pack of Oreos he grabbed them off the counter and returned to the living room. Clint was sitting back in the cushions looking pale.

"Here, drink up. It'll make you feel better."

The boy immediately gulped down some juice and twisted apart a cookie. "You're supposed to drink milk with Oreos." He said, making a face.

Bruce smiled and went and changed his drink. "Here."

Clint smiled happily and dunked his cookie. "Do you want one?" He asked.

Bruce returned his smile tentatively and took a cookie, twisting it apart and dunking the half without icing. "Thanks."

"Do you not like me?" Clint asked suddenly, ducking his head as he did so.

Bruce swallowed carefully. "I do like you, Clint and I'm sorry if it seems that I don't."

"Well, you just never talk to me and I thought you didn't like me."

"I don't really know how to be around children. And to be honest you remind me a lot of myself at your age."

Clint looked up at him with a curious expression. "Is that bad? Cause I don't mean to."

"No it's not bad and it's not your fault. My father wasn't a very nice man. Like yours."

Clint gave him a compassionate look. "So I make you think about him?"

"Yes and no. You don't so much make me think of him as you make me think about myself. I suppose it's selfish of me to avoid you for something like that."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Bruce reached out a hand and ruffled the boy's head. Clint leaned into the affection. "Don't be. It's not so bad."

"Really?"

"Really." And inside he felt the Hulk settle a little more. "I think maybe I've been a little too selfish. Can I spend the day getting to know you?"

Clint nodded seriously. "We can play the question game."

Bruce smiled a little. "I don't know that game. How do you play?"

Getting up on his knees to explain Clint cleared his throat importantly. "We each think of ten questions and write them down and then we take turns asking them. I learned it the first day of school."

Bruce smiled again. "Alright. I'll get a pad of paper." It was really quite charming. They sat for a moment in silence with the tv muted while they wrote. Glancing over he saw Clint had large childish writing and misspelled multiple words. Then finally Clint looked up saying he was done.

"You go first." The boy said shyly.

Bruce chuckled a little and looked down at his paper. He had picked simple questions he knew Clint could answer. "What's your favorite color?" He asked.

"Purple." Clint grinned excitedly. "My turn! Do you have any dogs?"

"No, Tony doesn't like pets in the tower. Do you?"

"No. Dad won't let me have one."

Bruce frowned but continued the game, after a while they finished and went to get lunch. Most of the questions had been simple and easy, what he had expected from Clint or really any child his age but it was nice to see that he was creative. "You must be really smart." Clint said, kicking his feet at the kitchen table.

Bruce laughed a little embarrassed, but secretly pleased. "I like to think so."

Clint shrugged off his modesty. "I think that's really cool. I'm not very smart."

"You don't think you're smart?"

"I get a lot of stuff wrong in school."

Bruce leaned forward across the table. "That doesn't mean you're not smart. Lots of people don't do well in school. It just takes them a little longer to understand the subject." He of course had never had that problem. He'd always gotten things right off the bat and had managed to be miles ahead of his classmates. Still, he didn't like seeing someone so small so down on themself.

"I'm sure you're much smarter than you're giving yourself credit for. What's your favorite class in school?"

"I like gym cause everyone always picks me for their team. I'm really good at sports."

Bruce smiled. "What about academic subjects?"

"What's academic?"

"The classes you use books for."

"Oh. I like reading okay. I like hearing stories."

Bruce smiled. He knew Clint wasn't as smart as he or Tony and probably not as smart as Natasha and most people would say he wasn't even as smart as Steve but he wasn't stupid. Most of the time he just didn't think and anyway, he had a heart to make up for it. It made sense he probably hadn't liked school too much. "I liked math."

Clint made a face. "I don't like math. I'm not good at it."

"It just takes some work."

"Yeah, I know. That's what my teacher says. She says I don't try and sometimes I don't. You won't tell Barney that will you? He'll get mad. He doesn't make good grades either but he says I should."

"I won't. He's good to tell you that though. Sometimes when we fail it's important to us that we keep the people we care about from doing the same."

Clint ate quietly, thinking about that. It made sense to him and the more he thought about it the more he wanted to be that kind of person. "Am I a nice guy when I grow up?"

"Yes, nice enough. You're a lot to be around. You have a lot of energy. But yes, you're a good person." He didn't say that Clint could be a bit of an asshole at times, he didn't think that was important. He knew Clint was a good person at heart and that was what mattered and spending time with him as a child only furthered this belief.

"Can we watch more tv?" Clint asked.

"Are you sure you don't want to take a break or anything?"

"We can play a game."

"What would you like to play?"

"Can we play Candy Land."

Bruce cringed inwardly at the game but nodded. "Sure." They spent the rest of the day playing games and watching tv and Bruce found himself enjoying his time with Clint. The boy was sweet and much smarter than he gave himself credit for and he slowly began to feel as though he knew what he was doing with the kid.

Thanks for reading!