Ok! Now that the main story's done, onto requests again!
Have three or four or 25, I can't remember! But I'll get through them! :)
Reviewers!;
Niom Lamboise; I wouldn't forget, my dear! I was looking forward to writing this one, and now that the other story is done, I can fully focus on it! I'm sorry for not being able to update it sooner! :)
Jewea19; That's a very high compliment from you, thank you so much! :o I'm glad you enjoyed it! :) I didn't update this as quickly as I normally would, for the simple fact I had another story to finish first, but now it should be updated every couple of days if I get my arse in gear and get writing! Hope you enjoy :)
Bri; Old McBarton's farm! I love it! I'm making a song now, dammit! There's more, yes! Sorry it took longer than usual to update, solely focused on this now! About 10 chapters planned, as far as I remember! Hope you enjoy :)
orange-yarn; Hello my friend! I believe I know that name! Welcome anyway! I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I'm sorry for not updating sooner! Had to finish my other story first and foremost, but like I said above, solely focused on this now :) Enjoy!
Layne; I'm glad you liked it, and over joyed that I'm managing to help you with your own writing! First attempt at this pairing, first attempt at any male pairing actually, so you'll have to bare with me! :P Enjoy! :)
TortoisetheStoryteller; I like him living too! So, he shall live! Glad you enjoyed it :)
Disclaimer; I disclaim everything!
"Nope."
"Pietro.."
"Nope."
"Pietro!"
"Nope!"
"Stop being a baby and go wake him!"
"You're better at it!"
"You can run away!"
"You can move the knife!"
"You really want to risk your sister getting stabbed!?"
Stalemate.. This always happened..
Pietro scowled at his sister and cracked his neck, holding his hand out towards her then with his opposite on held in a fist ontop of it. Without any need for words, or any need for mind reading, she mimicked his behaviour. He let out a curse when she chose rock, he so stupidly chose sizzors!
"Fine!" He growled, throwing his arms in the air in defeat while Wanda just fell back onto the sofa with a laugh. "My death will be on your head!"
"If a groggy assassin can get the jump of you, then you deserve it!" Wanda countered as he walked away, and he just knew she was smirking.
She always won this argument.
He didn't know why he still tried each morning!
He sighed to himself and started up the creaky old stairs, reminding himself halfway up he said he'd fix the top step before someone managed to trip down it. Again.
It was his home now, it was the least he could do.
Six months they've been here now. At first, he was a little iffy about coming to a farm. But the old man insisted that himself and Wanda come live with him. A farm house was not expected. Pietro was expecting grimy old apartment that was never looked after. He just struck the speedster as that kind of carefree guy, someone who wouldn't ever think of owning a house not let alone one in the middle of no where. Iowa, that's where Natasha told them they were going as she flew the jet.
A battle with aliens. That's what she said made him want the solitude. Himself and Wanda were still locked away from the world at that time, so they only heard about it after the fight in Sokovia. It seemed brutal, and from what information was available, and what information the other Avengers were willing to give, Barton was the main target. His mind was taken over, he went onto their side against his will, and afterwards he struggled too much to just go right back to normal life. So, he sold his apartment in New York, begged Stark for a little help, and bought an off the radar farm house.
When Pietro woke, it was only a week recovery then he was out of the SHIELD infirmary. It was Barton that took longer. Even though his injuries weren't as severe, the guy was the most human of any of them, so the blow to his side was a little too much to have just a quick stay in hospital. Pietro was healed, scarred, and running around the training grounds two weeks before Barton was, then they were here.
He was enjoying it. Even this part of their daily routine. It felt comfortable, felt relaxed. Felt like he and Wanda finally had a home.
He didn't knock, he learned that from the first day he had to wake Barton up. He panicked a little, looking back on it now he can admit that. When they wanted to wake him for some breakfast, it was their first day after all so Wanda put out a big spread, Pietro knocked. There was no answer. He knocked harder, again there was nothing. So he went into the room, seeing Clint spread out on his stomach and not answering Pietro's calls. He kept calling, nearly shouting, until he just went over to the bed ans shook him awake. He jumped, swinging a knife he had gripped in his hand with these eyes that Pietro wished he'd never see again. When things finally calmed down, when the two of them got their breaths back after a bit of a grapple, Barton reached over and put something in his ears from the bedside cabinet. They never knew he was deaf, and it was then Pietro realised that they knew nothing about this man that so willingly took him into their home, and he knew absolutely nothing about them either.
That was the only day he swung at Pietro with a knife. He kept apologising to him throughout the day, saying it was just a bad mix of circumstances. Clint not being used to people in his house, being on edge after the battle, and Pietro being behind him rather than beside him so he couldn't see the kid all that well. He still slept with the knife under his pillow, they knew that, but Pietro was alot more careful when waking him in the morning.
This morning was going to be difficult. He could tell the second he walked into the room to see Clint tossing and turning on the bed.
Nightmares.
They kept Barton up some nights. He'd hear the archer wandering the house at all hours of the night, cleaning around the house, making some food, one night he even heard the lawn mower start up at 4am and looked out to see Barton tending to the garden. Pietro didn't get them nearly as much, only the odd one, but that's because he doesn't let his mind go there. Wanda informed him one night while they were relaxing that taking a peek into Barton's mind was a mine field. He's had too much trauma in his past, so Pietro knew that it was probably a one in a million chance that this nightmare was about anything that happened during the Ultron attack.
It upset Pietro knowing that. It honestly broke his heart knowing that the events of the past still hurt, even so long after they took place. It hurt knowing that Pietro had the capability of dispelling memories at the drop of a hat so they couldn't bother him anymore, and yet the archer was just left suffering. Clint was too human, and it sometimes scared him thinking of that.
"Ok Barton.." Pietro sighed, carefully going over to kneel down beside the archer. His brow was creased and he had a frown was plastered across his sleeping face.
It didn't suit him, frowning, looking sad or in pain. Over the past six months they've seen the real Clint Barton, the joking and kind Clint Barton, the actual person, and not just the SHIELD agent and Avenger archer. This side didn't suit his features, Pietro realised. Smiling really did.
"Don't stab me.." He whispered with a slight pout, carefully trying to place a hearing aid back into the archers ear so he would hear him. It was difficult to do, so that's why he only did it when Barton would have nightmares, because that's when the attacks usually happened!
Sure enough, when one little touch came, Barton swung his arm out from under the pillow. If he wasn't genetically enhanced, Pietro would have a slash across his face right now, that's how quick Barton's attack was. But he thankfully was, so he avoided the attack and had Clint flipped onto his back in no time.
During training and sparring, this was impossible. Pietro was fast, but he wasn't as good a fighter as the trained assassin. So he could never get Clint pinned down, it was always the opposite. Right now though, Hawkeye wasn't here. Right now, a scared and protective Clint was here. So Pietro pinned his arms to his side, the speedster's hands pinning down the archer's shoulders as firmly as he could as the guy trashed and cursed beneath him.
Aids weren't in, so Pietro had to get close so Clint could read his lips. Their faces were close, too close for comfort on a normal day, but he didn't care right now, he had to calm Clint down before he hurt the two of them.
"You're Clint Barton." He started loudly, his face remaining calm so his lips could be read clearly. It was a trick Barton told him about one night, one of the nights neither of them could sleep so they sat out in the sitting room with a couple of beers. You keep calm, he'll keep calm. Pull him back from the nightmares by reminding him he's safe and there's nothing going on. It worked wonders, and Pietro had gotten the habit of what tone to use and what facial expressions help most. "You're an Avenger, you're on your farm house in Iowa. You saved me and Wanda, we're the only ones here with you. Relax."
The waiting was the worst. Those horrible few minutes where the fear and tears would remain in Clint's eyes. Those heart wrenching moments when he'd mutter about being taken, scream for them to just kill him already. It took everything Pietro had each time not to just pull the archer in for a hug and let him talk about everything, spill everything to him about what plagues his mind. He knew it was wrong to think like that, but he couldn't help it. He was helping by keeping him pinned, keeping him from hurting anyone, that's all that mattered.
They came back though. Those eyes that held such sparkle, those eyes that would light up when they'd tell mission stories to the twins at night. They always returned, they always sparked back to life and made Pietro's heart skip a beat.
"Hearing..?" Barton eventually rasped out, after his eyes became a little clearer, after his whole body sank into the mattress, after Pietro's heart was allowed beat again.
Maximoff smiled and nodded, that was Barton's way of letting him know it was ok to let him up. They never spoke of the nightmares, never spoke of these little moments, never spoke about how naturally it came to them or how not-so-weird Pietro being ontop of him was.
They just got off the bed, Clint put his aids in and went to get changed, and Pietro went out to finish making breakfast.
It was routine, it was some sort of ritual they had to go through during the bad times to transition to the alright times.
It was one of the many things Pietro didn't seem to mind doing for the archer.
He couldn't place these things. He couldn't place these feelings, this protective nature that over took him. He never held it before, not even with Wanda.
It was unsettling him.
"Nope."
"Clint.."
"Nope."
"Clint!"
"Nope!"
"Pietro?"
He looked to her sister with an amused smile when she said his name instead of the archers, she was sitting next to him with a slight pout. That meant that he could either help her out or he'd get a smack across the head!
"Stop being a baby, old man." Pietro laughed, looking across the table to Clint, the older gentleman cradling a mug of coffee in his hands. He just shook his head at the speedster.
"You don't know Natasha Romanoff like I do." Clint sighed, rubbing some of the last bits of sleep from his eyes. "If I ask her for help.."
"It would be better than us." Wanda said softly, and Pietro had to glance down at his hand when he felt her hand resting on it. She could probably tell he was about to swing at Barton for annoying them!
He took a breath before speaking to the archer. "You're wearing yourself out here. If we can go to hers or to Stark's it would be better for you.."
"I don't need help!" Clint cut in with a growl, shoving his food and coffee away to stand from the table, his eyes drilling holes into the two twins.
This was a topic Wanda broached to Pietro a few days ago. She realised that Clint was wearing himself out, pure and simple. When he took a tumble down the stairs the other day, Wanda had begun to worry. He was running around the house doing everything, cooking, cleaning, fixing up things that Pietro was sure didn't need to be fixed. He was keeping himself occupied, Wanda concluded. Trying not to let himself heal by instead running himself mad. The past few days Pietro was trying to convince her she was just being a worry wart, that they knew nothing about Barton and this might just be what he does.
But, when Pietro pinned him this morning, when he realised how little fight and strength the archer held, when he saw the bags under his eyes after being so close and getting a proper look at them, he knew that she may be onto something.
So, he didn't object when she suggested seeing if he'd call Natasha. He didn't object when she suggested talking to him about it, seeing if he could maybe just relax for a few days to build up his energy levels again.
But, it seemed like Clint was hell bent on objecting. And it pissed Pietro off. All they were trying to do was make sure the guy didn't kill himself!
"I'm going out to shoot." Barton sighed barely a breath after his little snap at the pair. The look Pietro saw cross over his eyes made him think that Clint knew it was a mistake to.
Before the twins could say anything, Clint was gone out of the kitchen door. The pair left in the room let out a sigh and stayed silent for a moment.
"We tried.." Wanda said softly, her hand still lying ontop of Pietro's. He hated when she read his mind, when she read what he was feeling as well as thinking. Because sometimes she knew before he even did. She knew then that he felt regret for not being able to convince him, and that was a good two minutes before the emotion even surfaced for Pietro to realise.
"You call Natasha." Pietro said after a moment or two, his voice stern. Like hell he was just going to sit by and let Barton kill himself. He stood up and looked down at the confused face of his sister. "Get her out here as soon as she can. If he won't go to Stark's, at least we will. Give him space to relax then try living with him again."
She smiled a smile Pietro hadn't seen in a while, one that would always say "I like the way you think!". There was no need for those kinds of smiles, they'd only come out during fighting with the proctors, or in the fight with Ultron. It was her mission smile, and this was a mission in itself.
"Good thing I called her last night and she's only twenty minutes out.."
Oh he really loved his sister sometimes!
He returned the smile and gave her forehead a little kiss before leaving the house. He always waited until outside the house to run. He tried inside the house once, and the place nearly blew over! So he was very quickly forced to promise Barton he wouldn't run indoors again!
Once outside, he ran his way over to the barn, it was set up as a gym by the archer. State of the art, he assumed Mr. Stark had a say in the design and funding of it. His suspicions were confirmed one day when he saw a 'Stark approved' sticker on the side of one of the weight machines. He had been in here a lot. Clint was teaching him hand to hand combat since they were healed enough to, and Barton seemed hell bent on it. Pietro was fast, but he could admit that he was sloppy when it came to fighting. The one lucky punch he laid on Captain America had him celebrating for a week! It was why his partner was telekinetic. She could destroy the enemies, he could knock their asses over so fast that it would knock them out.
Don't misunderstand! He was taught basic life saving fighting while with Hydra, but Barton wanted to teach him SHIELD style. He didn't really need it.
Still though, a little training was never a bad thing!
He could hear a thump, a solid whack, but not of arrows. He was used to that sound, but Barton probably only arrived to the place, so he wouldn't be shooting yet. It was a bit of a walk, and he only left a little before Pietro did, so no doubt he managed to catch up to the old man.
He poked his head in the door of the barn and raised an eyebrow at the sight.
All the times the archer went off to be alone, he said he was shooting. So the twins always left him alone, always left him to his own form of training. But this wasn't shooting, this was some pretty intense punch bag training.
He should have only been here maybe a minute before Pietro, but Clint already had his shirt off, a clear sheen of sweat over his body as he went after the bag with an aggression Pietro has never seen, not even in combat.
Stress relief was the only thing that could spring to Pietro's mind. He hasn't been on a mission or Avengers assignment in over seven months now. If the stories he heard about him and Natasha were true, from both himself and the other members of the Avengers, then he was always doing something. Even when he wasn't actually on missions, he was on missions. So sitting still for so long must be driving the guy insane.
Never one for respecting personal space, Pietro walked into the barn and over to a weight machine by the punch bag. He knew the archer sensed him, even with his back to the door, because once he stepped a foot into the barn, Clint paused and tensed for maybe only a second. Enough for Pietro to notice though.
He just sat on the end of the lifting bench, watching as white knuckles laid into the solid bag. No tape, no gloves, just his bare hands. It must hurt. Pietro only ever used the thing with some tape on his hands, Clint always insists, and even that left his knuckles red for hours. He could only imagine the pain the archer was putting himself through right now.
"Fuck it.." Clint pretty much yelled after ten minutes of straight punching, not slowing for a breath as far as Pietro could see. Now though, the archers hands fell still and he just leaned against the bag, his breathing heavy.
Pietro was on his feet in a flash, afraid Clint was about to pass out.
Though, when he approached, Clint turned with his hands up in a defensive position.
"Why did you do it!?" He yelled at Pietro, and it caused him to pause. Why'd he do what? The question must have crossed Pietro's face, because Clint continued on without prompt. "Why the fuck did you throw yourself infront of me like that!? I was fine dying!"
"Clint.." Pietro wished his voice was stronger, but it came out as a whisper. Barton was actually angry at him for it. His shoulders were tense and his eyes were hard, this was an anger Pietro hasn't seen before. This was a wild, nearly trapped anger that he could probably say he saw in stray dogs as a child.
But Pietro didn't have an answer. He wished he did, but he really didn't. It kept him awake most nights, kept swimming around his mind. Why did he move to protect the archer? They weren't friends, not by a long shot, not then at least.
But his body just moved. When he saw that jet coming towards him and the kid, when he saw the hail of bullets that were about to embed themselves in his body, he just moved on auto pilot. He just pushed himself to get to the pair, he made sure to get them to safety. He happily took the bullets, committed himself to death, and he didn't know why.
The lack of answer annoyed the archer. Something came over his eyes that sent fear throughout Pietro's body and instantly had him in the defensive position the man across from him taught just a few days previously.
"Calm down." Pietro said firmly, but nothing seemed to change. Barton took a step closer and shook his head. This wasn't Clint. He didn't know who this was, but it wasn't the fun loving, smiley, laughing Clint Barton they had gotten to know.
"Get on the mats." Clint simply replied, pointing over to the training mats in the corner of the room.
Pietro shot him a smirk and nodded. If he wanted a fight, he could fight!
"Gotta say, old man. Usually have to buy me a drink before ordering me around like that." Pietro said as he made his way to the training mats, his smirk still held in place. Flirting made the archer uncomfortable. How Pietro knew that, well, he may have tried a bit in the past few months! It would just be joking, of course..
Of course..
Joking!
It had to be!
In the house, he'd pass the stupid little comments, and Barton would just roll his eyes and walk away. But, whenever he would do it in training, something passed over Clint's face that would make Pietro grin. That annoyed 'Did he just say that?' look that he knew the crappy lines would get!
Today though, there was no snappy reply. Clint just made his way over to the mats in silence and took his place.
Pietro will admit, the topless look was distracting him a little.. Abs like that shouldn't be possible, but, there they were!
He froze at the thought and shook his head clear, trying to focus on the top half of the archer across from him.
What's going on with you, Maximoff..?
He waited. And waited. And waited some more. But Clint never moved. He just eyed Pietro with the most unnerving stare. Usually the archer would make the first move, usually he'd have Pietro defending. He didn't know what to do, so he did what he guessed Clint was waiting for him to do.
He moved like Barton would. He rushed the archer, not even a little fast by his standards though to give the guy a chance to actually teach Pietro. Still, kinda quick by a normal person's standard!
If there was anything that Pietro has learned over the past six months, it's that Clint Barton was NOT a normal person. Barton simply side stepped the oncoming blow and brought an elbow down on Pietro's neck, the blow sending the speedster down to the mat with a slight yell.
He didn't have a moment to get up though, because as his knees hit the mat, a boot sent him rolling onto his back and had him staring up at the ceiling. He didn't know the archer could move so fast, didn't know he had this sort of fight in him. He had obviously been going easy the past few weeks because this was completely new! This was the kind of Clint that sent the bullet through the glass floor, the kind that had Pietro pinned with a simple boot on the chest and could have killed him without a second thought.
In a flash, Barton was over him, his knees pressed hard on Pietro's shoulders to keep him pinned even as he struggled.
"What the hell are you doing?" Pietro asked in slight shock, but the archer above him just stared down. His eyes not leaving Pietro's and it kind of unsettled the speedster. This whole situation just screamed that something wasn't right, that something in Barton's mind had gone.
"You can fight." Clint said quietly after what seemed like an eternity, it had Pietro raising an eyebrow.
"Well, difficult when I have such a view distracting me.." He replied with a slight smirk, and he got that look again, that look he gets when he flirts, this seemed a little darker though.
"You can fight and you never do." Clint growled, leaning in closer to the speedster so their noses were nearly touching.
It had Pietro's breath caught in his throat. He may have been near motionless before, but now he definitely couldn't move an inch, in case he broke this moment. It wasn't the most ideal moment, but something about it made Pietro's heart skip.
"You never land a blow, never run rings around me." He continued on, he must have realised Pietro was a little too lost in thought to reply. "You let me land blows, you let me pin you.. But I remember seeing you taking out plenty of robots in Sokovia."
"That was then." Pietro said quietly, trying to advert his gaze now. No hope though, Clint had a hand on his chin in an instant to force eye contact.
"Why do you hold back?" He whispered, something in his eyes was softening. No, not softening.
Something in his eyes was breaking, and it made Pietro want to pull him in and just mind him. He realised then why he's never seen Clint this way, why he's never seen this side of the archer.
Because he never let them see this. He always hid these from the twins.
Flashbacks.
Something Natasha had warned them about. Something about Post Trauma, Clint was prone to flashbacks during the day and it had him out of sorts, aggressive, completely different for a while. That's what was happening right now and it broke his heart to see Clint go through this.
"Why don't you hit me?" He was a little louder this time, but it struck Pietro that the archer didn't trust his voice enough to go much above a whisper.
Why doesn't he hit him?
Why doesn't he fight back in sparring or training?
Why doesn't he use the skills he learned with his sister to fight back and prove that he can?
The training will stop.
These little moment would stop.
He doesn't want these little moments to stop.
He needs these little moments.
His eyes went a little wide when Clint started shaking. This is definitely new, but then again, this whole situation was new. They knew he has flashbacks, he locked himself away in his room and wouldn't come out for hours when they hit, but they've never been around like this when it happened.
The shaking was getting slightly worse, his breath was starting to get raspy and he was beginning to shift ontop of the speedster like he wanted to get off but couldn't move.
"Why didn't you hit me?" He whispered harshly, his hands shooting up to hold onto his head, in pain or not Pietro couldn't tell. But he didn't care, he was in distress and that was enough to send him into a world of panic. "Why didn't you let the bullets hit me?"
"Wanda!" Pietro called out, knowing his voice wouldn't reach his sister but his distress should reach her no problem. Distance was yet to be an issue between them.
Barton was starting to hyperventilate and it gave Pietro enough of a chance to get out from under him. Clint was still holding his head and shaking on his knees, and all Pietro could do was fall down beside him and pull him in for a hug. He just held him, held him through the panic attack, held him even when Wanda appeared with Natasha by her side, he didn't let go even when Natasha took Clint's face in her hands and ordered him to calm down, tried let him know everything was ok, that he was safe, that nothing was going to hurt him.
He held him, because that's all he could do to help.
Why didn't he fight back?
Why did he take those bullets?
Why wouldn't he let him go now?
Why couldn't he stop this panic in him over Clint's pain?
Why did he yell at Wanda and Natasha when they tried get him to move?
What was this protective feeling he had?
As he watched the archer in his arms, when he calmed down enough and was asleep, or passed out, in his grip. As he waited for Natasha to bring the car around so they could put him in, so they could get him to Stark's, he realised what those feelings were, realised what the feelings that had him so unsettled for so long were. He realised why he took those bullets, why he couldn't let the archer go.
He realised why he flirted, he realised why he had to be so close. He realised why he wanted to fix that top step, why he wanted to train with him. He realised why he felt the need to protect him, why he woke him each morning. He realised why the simplest smile from the archer sent his heart into a frenzy.
He cursed himself as he carried the sleeping man to the car, placing him in the back seat as comfortably as he could manage.
He was fucked if it was true.
He was in so much trouble if it was true.
Because, if it was true, that meant one crazy and near improbable thing.
That meant he was in love with the archer.
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The more he allowed the thought to settle, the more he watched the sleeping face of the man in the back seat, the more it became clear, yet the more it terrified him.
I'm in love with Clint Barton.