Welp, sorry for the week long delay! BUUUUTTTT guess who wrote an 11K+ chapter about a musical with angst and love and humor to make up fro it? THIS GIRL.
SOO
Phil and Mark are 17
Peter and Abby are 18
Amelia is 14 and turns 15
Spreads out from January to late March
"I don't care how much you don't care, Mr. Barton, but you're GPA must be higher if you want to pass the eleventh grade!" The Student Counselor, Mr. Christopher Bates, exclaimed a little too loudly while talking to Phillip in his office. It's not that Bates doesn't like Phil, it's more his attitude and hobby to piss off every faculty member in this school, not to mention all the acts of violence displayed over the past few months. Bates only wanted him out of the school before someone pressed charges or something. "Your Algebra 2 D- absolutely needs to come up. You only have anything higher than a C- in Public Speaking, and PE."
"I'm a physical kind of kid." Phillip, honestly, did not like Bates, didn't like the way he sort of crawled into his mind, and would do anything and everything to annoy him until the day he literally pulls his hair out. So he simply glared at the man and put his boots up on his desk. "And how do you expect me to do that, my dear friend?" He asked sarcastically while slumping deeper in the chair. He cuffed his hands and put them over his waistline.
Bates shot him a look and shooed his feet off the table, they didn't move. He sighed and leaned back into his chair. Job, focus on your job, helping students, not yelling at them. "You have half the year left, you could try more on exams and things." He ignored the scoff that came from the student. "Or," Bates have him an amusing look. "Might I suggest the spring musical, that would certainly count for art credits, hmm?"
Phillip raised an eyebrow and crossed his leg. "I would rather become a drop out and work in a whore house than be the stereotypical flamboyant fag-"
"Mr. Barton, do you want to pass or not?" Bates interrupted his spiel before it turned into a yelling match. There had been a few rumors about whatever is going at the Barton household ever since Phillip passed out in the hall. Bates could only hope they were not true. Though from what he has seen and heard from both of the Barton children at the school, all the signs seem to be pointing towards that Phillip and Amelia were a bit too much to handle for a single father. Bates wondered if he just snapped sometimes.
The counselor leaned over his desk to look the boy in the eye, only to have him look to the ground. He spoke quietly. "You're a smart kid Phillip, I know you don't think that, but-"
"You don't know half of what you think, Mr. Bates." The teen snapped at him, not looking up.
"No," He agreed softly. "I guess I don't. But I do think it's a good idea...just, consider it?"
Phillip finally eyed him, sending a glare his way. The red head eventually dropped his feet from the desk, slung his back pack over his shoulder and stalked out. "Maybe." Was thrown over his shoulder as he exited the room.
Mr. Bates let out a breath and leaned back in his chair.
At least a 'maybe' was better than the 'go screw yourself' he was expecting.
"Well I think it's a great idea." Abigail announced happily as her, Phillip, Amelia, and Markus were walking out of the school building. "I was going to try out for it anyway, this'll be even better!" She nudged the shorter boy with her shoulder and smiled when he only looked away from her.
"Oh c'mon Phil, you loved Les Mis." Amelia chirped from behind Mark.
"I loved Aaron Tveit's ass." He mocked.
Abby nudged him again. "You should be Enjolas then!"
"I'm not going to be Enjolas Abby, I'm going to be a stage hand or something." Phillip tried not to feel regretful when her face saddened.
Mark rolled his eyes. He knew Phil needed the credit, and he wasn't about to let his brother be left behind. There was only one way Phillip would ever agree to be in the play, it took a moment of debate on whether what he will say would backfire on him or not. "I'll do it if you do it."
Abby brightened again. "Awesome, Marius." Abby pointed to Mark. "Enjolas." She hit Phil on the chest. "now we need Pete."
"Why is Mark the only one who gets to live?"
"What about me?" Amelia asked.
Mark gave her a sorry look. "Freshmen aren't allowed to be in the musicals."
"That's so dumb."
Phillip spoke up again. "I'm not being in this stupid thing."
"Yes you are." They all said at the same time. Phil threw his hands up in a moment of frustration as Peter joined the little group next to Abby.
"What are we doing?"
"Oh look, it's interrupting Javert."
Abby ignored Amelia and shot Peter an amused smile. "We're forcing Phillip to be Les Mis for GPA credits. Me and Mark doing it too."
"Whoa," Markus held up a hand. "I only said I was trying out if Phil was."
"Which I'm not."
"Yes, you are!"
"Did you guys rehearse this of something?"
Amelia let out a small chuckle. "Abby did want some way to convince you to be Enjolas." She adjusted the strap to her backpack on her shoulder. "For quite some time now."
"You planned this?" Phil asked in confusion.
Abby shot a glare towards Amy before Mark explained. "She actually went to Mr. Bates suggesting it."
Phillip threw the older girl a look of disbelief, and possibly a small flash of betrayal in his eyes. "Really?" He spat.
Abigail immediately went into defense. "Oh c'mon, you can't be mad at me, I wanted to help you. Phil, don't act like we don't hear you singing Walk The Moon in the shower, you got yo daddy's voice."
Peter raised an eyebrow at the slur in her voice. "Why did you turn gangster for like, five seconds?"
"Not important." Abby have him a little 'shut up' gesture and turned back to Phillip. "Are you going to do it or not?"
The red head blew out a breath and shrugged. Mark nudged him with his shoulder. "C'mon, I'm gonna do it. We'll be the barricade boys."
"That's sounds like the worst boy band name ever." Phil scoffed. "But fine, I'll try out for the stupid depressing musical."
Clint shrugged and nodded from where he was cooking some hamburgers on the fryer over the stovetop. "I think it's a good idea." He expressed lightly to Phil, who was sitting on the island behind Clint. "You know, keep you occupied and stuff."
"Noo." Phillip leaned back on his palms, almost disappointed. "You were supposed to be evil and not let me do this. You were my excuse so say no to Abby."
Clint chuckled and started stacking he burgers on a plate. "Well call me satanic, I'm going to make you do it. Just cuz I can." He held out the plate to Phil. "To the table."
The teen groaned but took the plate to their dinner table on the other side of the bar in the kitchen. "I don't need to be occupied." He grumbled under his breath.
Clint heard it. "Don't act like I have no idea you were at the warehouse again." He said sternly and turned to face him. The casual tone Clint used with Phil was gone, in came the strict father. "I thought we talked about that."
Phillip purposely turned to look away from him. "I didn't even fight." He said quietly.
"No, you just went to bet." Clint squinted his eyes. "You know this how gambling addictions start."
"I don't think I'm going to, acquire, or something, a gambling addiction. Just because I'm making a few bets with losers on the East side." Phil's voice thickened and put a plate down on the table a bit forcefully. He spun on his heel to meet Clint's gaze.
"Really, Phil?" Clint asked sardonically and crossed his arms. "Is that why you kept going there after you lost the first time? Or the second or third or fourth? Whenever you got in over your head and you just kept going back, is that 'just making a few bets'? Phillip someone almost killed you over money. I'm telling you now like I've told you before, I will not always be here to drag your ass out of the fire."
"I should be able to make own decisions, I'm a big boy now dad."
"This is not about freedom, Phil. I told you to stay away from there."
"You told me to stay out of the ring."
"You deliberately disobeyed my orders."
"Orders?" The teen laughed humorlessly. "Was that what they were, dad? Orders? Cuz I'm just a little soldier boy to you."
"Phillip-" Clint cut himself short when he noticed Amelia walk in.
The blonde looked between the two, unamused. "Oh, don't stop this wonderful discussion just cuz I'm here." She told them sarcastically and sat down at the dinner table. "So are we going to suffer through the awkward family meal like we do every time you guys get in a cat fight, or just stare at each other?"
They ate in silence.
Clint eventually cornered Phillip again in his room.
"What?" Came the muffled groan from Phil, not taking out the headphones blasting music or lift his head from where it was buried in the mound of pillows he had on his bed.
Clint ignored the attitude coming from the teenager and sat on the couch. With a sigh he leaned back, determined not to turn this into another fight. No, this was a calm, problem solving discussion. Still after the whole 'everything out in open' talk in September Phillip still had this swell of anger inside him, coming out in random bursts seemingly from no where. Six Saturday detentions were the outcome of the fits. "Can you at least look at me?" The archer started calmly, linking his fingers together.
The music stopped abruptly and Phil turned his head, agonizingly slow just to make Clint wait, to face him. "Yes?" The assassin didn't expect someone to make 'yes' sound like a term of offense.
"Let's start with why the hell are you so angry all the time?" He started quietly.
"I have angst." Phil answered simply. "I'm a teenager."
"I see that. I want to know why though."
"I don't knoooow." Phillip grumbled and sunk deeper into the pillows. "Maybe cuz I'm now forced into a musical, like that isn't the stereotypical gay kid thing to do. Or possibly because I'm failing math and I can't do anything about it and everyone's expecting me to but the freakin teacher flat out refuses to do visuals or extra help or even use colored paper cuz it shows 'special treatment' or some shit." He sighed and flipped on his back. His bed shook.
Clint blew out a breath and ran a hand down his face. It was always the damn teachers pushing down on this kid. "I know kid." He said. "I can go down there and-"
"No," Phil cut him off. "That'd be worse. Then she'll only see it as I'm not trying hard enough and think I'm blaming her."
Clint looked up to him sternly said: "Phillip, you should blame her. She's not even trying to help you."
"I shouldn't need help." Phil put his palms over his eyes with his elbows pointed to the ceiling. "I shouldn't be angry. I shouldn't act like asshole to everyone. I shouldn't feel awful all the time because nothing is wrong. And I shouldn't hate myself for no reason at all." He sighed heavily. "I have a fine life. I have a family that loves me and were not starving or poor or anything."
The sheer amount of pain in his son's voice had Clint closing his eyes. He looked up again when Phil took his hands off his eyes and spoke again, voice cracking.
"Why the hell am I so angry, dad?" He asked desperately, taking his hands away from his eyes and burying his head in the pillows. "I feel so close to the edge, you know? Like, the edge dad. And, I'm actually scared."
Clint stood up to run a gentle hand through the red hair sticking up. It would normally being an annoying gesture that Phillip would move away from. If anyone asked, Clint would deny it, but it just broke his heart to see his own son so, out of it. "I'm gonna help you, kid."
Phillip didn't even protest when the archer took his pistol.
"C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon!" Abigail was practically bouncing as she guided Mark through the crowded morning halls to the school's announcement board.
"Can I ask why you're dragging me excitedly?" He had to yell over the noise of other people in the hall. Mark barely had time to duck under a large piece of carpet some janitors were carrying. How the eighty year old (at the least) Mr. Lee managed to carry half of the rug will forever amuse the students.
Abby stopped in front of the bulletin board and pointing to a list. "They released the parts for Les Mis." She said out of breath, but happily. She smirked smugly and put a hand on her hip. "I'm Cosette, bitch."
"That's awesome!" Markus congratulated. "Did I get the part you wanted me to play?" The raven haired teen was perfectly fine with a small part like Joly or Courfeyrac. But no, Abby put him down for Marius on the audition paper. Same with Phil for Enjolas.
"You did, actually. Both you and Phil."
"Oh, great. Now I'm the blind lover you falls for..Cosette." Mark glared at her. "You plan that too?"
Abigail looked to the ground dug her toe into a crack in the tile. "Didn't think of that, believe it or not."
"Great, this won't be awkward at all."
Abby bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at the list again. "Hey," she said amused and smirked at the younger boy. "guess who's playing Eponine?"
"Who?" Mark asked. Mostly uninterested.
"That Claire girl." She sang devilishly.
Mark tried not to think about the rather pretty Claire Matthews pretending to die in his arms on stage. He also tried to ignore the way his head started to speed up at the very mention of her. Claire was a bit, strange, you could say. She insisted to get to school by rollerblading, and was basically a slightly altered version of Luna Lovegood. Only a bit more, quiet, about it all. She didn't tell anyone about her family or where she lived or anything. She was that kid that wore the relatively similar things everyday. Long sleeves and jeans. Mostly black or dark colors. "What about her?" Markus swallowed.
"C'mon." Abby rolled her eyes and lightly punched his shoulder. "The girl you've been drooling over since the beginning of the year? Don't try to act like you don't have a thing for the weirdo."
"I do not." He pressed.
Abby smiled doubtfully and held a little 'okay' sign up with her hands. She mouthed a joking 'okay, sure' and started to step/bounce away.
Mark let out a small laugh and turned around, almost having a heart attack when the Claire Matthews was suddenly behind him. She looked up, being considerably shorter than him (well, mostly everyone was, Markus was almost six foot two), and her bright blue eyes lined with the same blue eyeliner found his, the dip dyed electric blue ends of her black hair curly and bouncing. She started to spin around him, like she was analyzing him, she had not even taking her rollerblades off yet. How she was able to get all the way to school in those, even in January, no one may ever know.
"Markus Banner." She said, seemingly amused.
"Yes?" He replied, trying to hide the nervousness.
She stopped in front of him and bit her lip. "Guess I'm supposed to fancy you?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Um, what?"
"In the play, Eponine and Marius." Claire crossed her arms over her chest. "She's in love with him, he doesn't love her, she dies for him, it's quite tragic. You think?"
He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. I guess it is."
She suddenly smiled widely and rolled away. "See you at rehearsals then."
Mark let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He wiped his forehead, only to find he was sweating. The teen quickly invited a small amount of the cold he had become familiar with to calm himself down and slow his heartbeat.
Yes, this mysterious Claire girl certainly had a firm grip Markus Banner.
"Lights! Center stage!" The director of the production, Mr. Hiddleston called out to Amelia in the cat walks. She practically begged to part of the play, but as nice as the director was, freshmen were not permitted a part. He did, however put her down as a stage crew member. Peter only joined her because he would not let himself be the only one not part of this whole deal.
It was only three weeks into the rehearsals and Phillip actually sort of enjoyed it. Enjolas was a pretty bad ass character, devoting his whole cause to the revolution. Phil mostly enjoyed the Red and Black scene, mostly because Mark had to act like a total in love idiot, which he actually was being lately. The boy who was playing Grantaire was the best, he had as much sass as the character. His name was David something, Phil didn't bother to remember, but he sure liked his style.
"Okay, great job everyone!" Mr. Hiddleston clapped his hands. "Now I want everyone to practice lines, maybe go over them with a partner over the weekend. See you Monday, fantastic kids, you are."
Most of the other actors quickly dispersed to go home. Phillip had to wait up for everyone at the door, Peter was driving, they all (and by all I mean all but Peter) decided that he was a good chauffeur to use everyday. By said door to the back parking lot, were a few people who have made there way onto Phillip's shit list. Three of them were the Hammer triplets, Thomas, Braydon, and Sebastian Hammer. Yeah, Hammer as is ass hat Justin Hammer's kids. Them along with none other than Bobby Drake, the looks on their faces seemed to almost call Phil, urging him to throw a punch. He had felt a bit better ever since Clint talked to him a few weeks ago, but right then he just felt it all come back, for no particular reason.
"Can you try to not kill them for five seconds when we walk by?" Peter pulled Phil out of the mindset he was in on how many ways you could injure someone the wrench he saw laying in the corner.
"Me? It's your dad's rivalry." Phillip crossed his arms but continued to glare at the four jocks.
"Yeah, and I'll be the first to admit that they're dicks, but I don't think it's them you're mad at." Peter tilted his head towards Bobby. Phil rolled his eyes.
"I don't care." He claimed with a slightly arrogant air.
Pete looked at him and spoke softly. "I think you do."
Phillip looked at him angrily. "Well I think I'm about adding you to my kill list, Pete. So why don't you shut it before I make Abby an only child?"
Peter just leaned back against the wall in silence. Not that he thought Phil would follow through with all the threats, but the brunette didn't see the need to feed the chip on that kid's shoulder.
Abby, who heard none of this, was in the catwalks. Amy was always going on about how awesome all the platforms were up there, the older girl only saw the easy possibilities of slipping and falling thirty feet down to the hardwood stage.
"Amelia?" She called out. "Want to actually move your ass down to the car? Everyone's waiting."
"Just a second, you have to see this!" The blonde popped her head out from behind a pipe above Abigail. "Get up here." The senior sighed and pulled herself up. Amy took her hand and guided her along the older catwalks, the ones the school didn't use anymore because they were old and breaking. They built the same platform right under the old ones.
The two stopped at a large, darkened platform. Amelia fiddled with a light switch before several strings of white Christmas lights turned on. They showed the whole platform, it looked like a thing you would see on doomsday preppers. There was a mattress with blankets and pillows in the middle of the floor, food that wouldn't spoil and shampoo and other hygienic supplies lined the railing.
"Does someone live up here?" Abby asked.
Amy shrugged. "Don't know, found it at the beginning on rehearsal. Wanted to get a better look." Her phone started buzzing, she slid her finger across the screen. "What Phil?...Okay, we're coming, don't get your tampon in a knot, jeez."
Abby laughed into her fist.
"I have a feeling today will not be a very good day." Mark was not talking to his dog, that'd be crazy. He was thinking aloud, and Mara just happened to be listening. They were sitting on the floor of his dark room, it was barely two in the morning on February 22. Exactly one year since the whole Ross incident. Bruce told him that he could stay home, Mark thought he wouldn't need it. His subconscious decided otherwise, seeming to like keeping him awake.
Mara, ever aware of her favorite person, was immediately in his room. Mark really didn't feel like having a 120 pound dog jump on his bed (and she was the runt), so he sat himself on the floor next to her, leaning against the foot of his bed. He softly pet the graying fur around her nose and face as they sat, Mara's big head on his lap. Just the feeling of another living thing by him kept Markus calm, kept him there. He'd read all these things about dogs being anchors to people, like sick people in hospitals would sometimes have dogs around because they made them feel better. He supposed Mara was no different. He loved the old girl and she certainly showed favoritism for him.
So she kept him calm. He wasn't at that facility. He wasn't tied down to a table or chained to a wall. Their was no one hurting him. No one trying to drown him. No one trying to electrocute him. No one burning him with a poker, stabbing him, cutting off his air. The worst was the heat they put him through. Locked in a cell with something blasting hot air and humidity through the vents. That's what seemed to hurt Mark the most, that's what Ross put him through the most. Old man was determined to bring out the monster that wasn't inside him.
But he was safe now. He was in his bedroom, in his apartment. Bruce and Darcy were sleeping right across the hall. Phil and Amy and Clint were right up stairs. Abby and Pete and Tony and Steve were right above them. Mara was in his lap. He was safe.
There would be no panic attacks tonight.
Mark would sleep.
And he did.
For an hour.
Apparently Mark's subconscious was a total asshole and wanted to send a few night terrors his way, keep him up all night. Mara was still in the room, which was suddenly causing him to become claustrophobic. Mark knew it was so stupid, and would probably cause his parents to have a heart attack, but he needed to get out of the tower. He threw on some clothes and got Mara's leash out so she could come with him.
As a defense, even if a hell of a weak one, he did leave a note.
For some reason he found himself on a subway headed for the school. He didn't make eye contact with anyone on the cart. Even if it was because he was a seventeen year old with a giant dog on a subway at three in the morning, it still made him paranoid.
Mark's feet took him to the school, the backstage door was always open. He not-so-quietly bursted the door open and got to stage. It was pitch black in the whole auditorium except for the glowing red exit signs and the light that was always on above the levers for the lights on the stage.
Mark sat right at the center of the stage, his knees drawn up his chest and his elbows resting on them. He held his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. It was getting longer again, down to his ear lobes almost. Thor once said to him he looks a lot like Loki. Mark never meant to look like his father, in all honesty he was just too lazy to get a haircut. He liked it that way anyway.
The teenager was so caught up in his thoughts (about his hair, how weird), that he didn't notice a faint light pop on above the catwalks. He didn't notice the person quietly climb down the ladder and step on the hardwood floor of the stage. Mark didn't think of it as anything when Mara sudden stood on all fours and faced the direction of this person walking towards him. Mark did look up when she started growling, and jumped when some one touched his back.
Mara barked, the person yelped. Mark slid himself away from the hand and instinctively created some ice on the floor between them. He heard the sound of the person slipping and falling on the floor with a thump. He dug his hand into Mara's thick coat of fur to keep him from panicking because there was no way this was going to happen to him again.
"What the hell?" A voice said, feminine, familiar. Mark heard her fumbling with something in her pocket before a bright light shined on him. A flashlight. "Markus?" She said in disbelief while he tried to get the light out of his eyes.
"Get away from me." He demanded, crab crawling backwards.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay." She put the light on herself, giving him a few seconds to recognize her black hair, the electric blue tips that matched her eyes.
Claire.
"It's just me." She put a hand up. "You know, Eponine? Maybe 'that weird chick with the roller blades'?" Claire huffed a laugh. She stood up and shined the light on the ice on the floor. "How did you do that?"
Mark heaved in a few breaths and stayed silent for a moment. Mara still was on defense, he patted her back as a sign to relax and sit. She did, but still kept her eyes on Claire, like she knew the girl scared her owner almost into a panic attack. Eventually the boy swallowed and accepting the fact that 'no, she wasn't going to hurt him', but why was she there? He looked her over, no makeup she usually wore, and was wearing only a sweatshirt and old pajama pants. Mark had to admit she looked more beautiful when she wasn't wearing black.
"What are you doing here?" He managed to ask.
"I'm pretty sure you owe me a bigger explanation for the apparent ice rink the school has now." She raised an eye brow and gestured to the ice. "Hold on though, it's creepily dark in here." She ran over to the light above the levers, pulling one to turn on the blue lights. They were light to see each other but dark enough not to blind them, she did just wake up. "Now spill."
"Excuse me if I need a moment." Mark rolled her eyes, and finally seemed to notice he just gave away his secret. "Oh, that."
"Yeah, this." Claire smiled and tapped the ice. "How the hell did you do this?"
"That," Mark leaned back on his hands. "is a loooong story. I bet your reasons for sleeping on a stage are shorter, so why don't you start."
Claire sighed and pushed her hair behind her ears. She stepped around the rink of ice and sat next to Mark, mirroring his pose unconsciously. "Well," she started quietly. "only if we're swapping stories." She tried to laugh off the fact that her heart was pounding at the same rate as Mark's, only she had no idea about it, they both just realized where they were and who they were with. The boy nodded and shrugged. "Okay, I live in a huge ass apartment with eleven brothers and sisters with my rich ass parents who need everyone to be perfect. Mostly my dad, well, it's all my dad, actually. But whatever. So I sort of partially moved into an abandoned cat walk platform, but I go back home all the time, it's just when I need to get out. I pay for a lunch, eat cereal other times, take showers in the locker room and sleep up there. I don't blade to school, I blade before school. It's better than where I was, at least." She looked to her feet. "You know that David kid?" Mark nodded. "He's actually my twin brother, thankfully not horrid, but the rents sure like him a lot."
"I can see that, you and David." Mark stayed silent for a moment. "At least your story is reasonable. Mines just batshit crazy and you'll probably think I'm insane."
"Boy, you just created ice from nowhere, I'm debating whether I'm insane."
Markus blew out a breath and laid on his back. He relayed practically his whole life to her, beginning to present. "So now, I'm still recovering and have a grip on this whole frost giant thing. Just waiting to see what happens next I guess." By this time Mara was half asleep next to them.
Claire licked her lips and swallowed, looking down to him. "So it's not muscular dystrophy?"
Markus chuckled and bit his thumb nail. "No," he shook his head. "I was actually cursed as a baby by an age old god."
"And your dad,- your dad, the god - just sort of pops up from time to time?"
"Basically." He shrugged. "I haven't seen him forever though. It's only when I'm in need or something."
"Wow." Claire huffed and chuckled. "That is really fucking awesome." She titled her back to look at the ceiling and slid to lay on her back, her shoulder touched Mark's. "So you're dad, is like a.."
"Man, but sometimes turns into a giant green monster. But the monsters cool with us."
"You've seen him to do it?" Claire asked, not looking away from the ceiling.
Markus shrugged, but nodded. "Twice, once when I was like, eight and another time when I was thirteen. Apparently it happened after Ross but I was sort of, non responsive." He trailed off and purposely looked away from her.
The dark haired girl could tell it was a sensitive topic for Mark, but she couldn't help herself from asking him softly: "What happened to you in there?"
"A lot of things." He swallowed, just noticing his voice had become raw at just talking about it. Mark coughed and continued. "When I woke up, it was actually only Phil there."
He wouldn't tell her that he'd never seen seen him look so tired and so relieved at the same time.
"He told me that m mom dragged my dad off to get some actual food and sleep, so he took the shift."
He wouldn't tell her that he knows Phil didn't sleep at all the whole week Mark was gone.
"I don't remember maybe a day or two near the end, but Phillip told me that he went with the rest of the adults to get me, and that I wasn't breathing when they found me."
Mark didn't even know about Phillip being the one to find him in a cell, no heartbeat and not one breath. He didn't know about Clint having the drag the screaming teen off of the body so Tony could revive him.
The teen sucked in a breath. "But, we're all okay now."
"I hope." Claire said sincerely. She turned to face him, hoping that she showed some solace in her eyes.
"It's really not that big of a deal."
"Dude, you live with the Avengers. The ones people tell stories about, the heroes." She turned her tone to be lighter, trying to get away from the memories that clearly haunt him. "Why don't you tell some these shitheads here at school? They'd treat all of you, even Phil and Amy, like kings. Like Peter and Abby."
Mark sighed and twiddled his thumbs across his chest. "We can't...My uncle, he's an assassin, a covert, assassin. If people know who he is, there'd be tons of people after him, after Phil and Amy too. My dad, people would only see the monster, not the man. Our own government came after me just cuz they thought I had the same deal going on inside me. And the only reason Pete and Abby are fine, is because they're in the media, in the spot light. If anyone touches them, they're screwed." He let out a breath looked at Claire. "We'd rather have each other be safe than treated like royalty."
Claire nodded, understanding, but not completely. "I get it, I guess." She started. "But you, Markus Banner, if you think about it. Are royalty. You said this Loki guy is your father?" The other teen nodded. "And he's the brother of Thor, the heir to the throne of Asgard." She made a rolling motion with her hands.
Mark didn't see it.
Claire rolled her eyes and went on. "Thor's king after Odin, if Thor doesn't have any sons, who you inherit the throne? The nephew." She hit his chest lovingly and smiled. "You're a prince, my dear boy."
The teenager started to blush and nodded modestly. "I..guess I am." He huffed a laugh and sat up. "Huh, I'm a prince."
Claire sat the same way as Mark again. "No one wonder you're so handsome, it's like a rule for princes, isn't it?" She looked away and tried to ignore how stupid that actually sounded out loud. "That was really bad."
He smiled brightly at her and went out on a limb to brush her hair behind her ear. "It wasn't." He said quietly. "And if it's the rules of princes, it should definitely be a rule if princesses. I'm starting to think, Claire Matthews, that you should be a princess cuz you're certainly following that rule of being beautiful."
Claire looked back up to him. Suddenly they were leaning in towards each other. Here, on the hardwood floor of a dimly lit stage next to melting ice, these two kids who never thought the other one noticed them, were leaning into each other. Their foreheads touched, they could feel each other's breath against their lips.
Oh my god this was really happening to them and this really is that moment that everyone talks about and it actually was exciting and oh my god they were going to have their firs kiss with each other and oh boy.
Then Mark's phone rang.
Successfully ruining the moment.
But they had to laugh, keeping their forehead touching each others.
"Think I should, get that." Mark said awkwardly. He pulled away from her and got his phone from his pocket, ready for the oncoming fireworks on the other end if the line. "Mom?" He greeted, trying to sound innocent.
"Where. The. Hell. Are. You?" He could tell Darcy was holding back the fear for him and the anger at him.
"Mom, I'm sorry. But I needed to get out." He explained softly. "I'm okay, I'm at the school."
Darcy sighed heavily on the other end. "I know babe. I get it. Just..wake me up? Next time, okay?I don't think it's the healthiest thing for me to be waking up with you gone." Her tone became lighter and gentle. "I love you."
"I love you too." Mark searched for the snicker from Claire, but there was none.
"Come home soon? Dad would appreciate it, he's sort of freaking out right now."
He gave Claire a sorry look. "Yeah, I'll leave soon. Keep him calm."
"I got it covered. Thank you." They hung up.
Mark flipped the phone over in his hand and looked up at the girl. "My parents are flipping out. I really have to leave." He stood up and held out a hand to help her. "I'm really sorry."
"Hey, can't really blame them." Claire only shrugged and suddenly stood on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Maybe next time, Prince Markus." She curtseyed mockingly.
He smiled, kissed her in the same fashion and bowed.
"Certainly, m'lady."
"Man," Amy scoffed when she entered Markus' room thirteen hours later. "Next time you want to have a freak out, don't go off on some adventure in the middle of the night. That never ends well for anyone." She gave him a small joking smile and sat on his desk by his computer.
The older boy ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back in the chair to look at her with a smirk. "Shut up, you're like twelve."
Amelia crossed her arms over her chest and crossed her legs. "I'm fifteen."
"14.917."
"Did that all in your head?"
"Yes, actually."
"Whatever." The blonde rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall, still on the desk. Her expression turned serious and looked at Mark. "Are you okay?" She asked softly.
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you Phil now?"
"The anniversaries are hard." Amelia continued seriously while pullin her knees to her chest.
Mark cracked his neck and looked to the floor. "Mostly, yeah. Sleep isn't coming very...peacefully. That bad place in your brain takes over and it just..."
"Hits you hard." She finished, taking a sudden interest in her toes. "Like it doesn't want you to forget it."
"That it happened."
"And that no one could change it."
"No one can help you stop feeling like.."
"You're gross."
"They didn't care that you are a person."
"Unclean."
"An experiment."
They raised their eyes to meet each other's. Amelia sniffed and relaxed her posture. "I had a reason for coming up here, I swear. Wasn't supposed to be a weird, 'trauma buddies' session." She huffed a laugh.
Mark shrugged. These were types of things you don't want to talk about but sometimes just spit it out to anyone. "Who cares. We're all a bit messed up anyway."
"Yeah," She replied quietly before perking up. "But anyway, we are to kidnap you and have a total Perks of Being a Wallflower type deal while blasting David Bowie on our way to the student vs. teachers basketball game."
"Sounds fun."
It was.
Well, it was if you didn't mind Phil calling unnoticed fouls.
"Cut! Cut for a sliver of a minute." Mr. Hiddleston waved his arms and was almost apologetic for interrupting the Red and Black scene. He went over to Phillip and put a hand on his shoulder. The teen resisted trying to shake it off.
"Now Phil, you're doing a marvelous job. But Enjolas lives for the revolution of France. He hates that a king is still on the throne. You're planning a revolt. But Marius here," Hiddleston gestured to Mark, sitting at the table in set for the pub. "All he is thinking about is some girl he glanced at in town this morning. You're best friend is basically throwing aside your whole cause for love, something which you do not believe in. Now Grantiare,"
He gestured to David, holding the fake whine bottle and wishing it was real. "he is encouraging Marius be a dopey lover. No offense Markus." The director held up a hand to the boy. "So try to act almost offended when Grantaire starts to get Marius to sing. Alright?" He patted Phil on the shoulder and returned to his chair when the red head nodded. "And, action."
The boys started the scene again, this time Phillip successfully managed to put all of his attitude into that one scoff Enjolas was to do when Grantaire got Marius singing. Turns out they all had quite good voices. Though he would never admit it, Phillip was pretty happy he joined this 'stupid depressing play'. Even if he's only in the second part and dies. The kid has just been feeling way better over the past two months, a little after Clint actually talked to him.
"Amazing! That is perfect." Mr. Hiddleston clapped and got up from his chair, moving to the stage while the barricade boys filed out. "Can we move on to, Marius and Eponine going to find Cosette? Markus and Claire! Center stage please!"
The two glanced at each other before meeting in front of the director. Mark bit his lip nervously, the couple haven't even talked to each other in weeks, she probably thought him a freak. A cross breed of alien raised by people and just crippled and deformed. Maybe if he just stayed a bit longer that night, his mother knew he was fine, she'd be okay for another few minutes while Mark explained any of the questions Claire might have had. It was a load to drop on her anyway.
Claire just stood, acting like the whole night on the stage, where the teen told her everything he wasn't supposed to, didn't even happen. No one else knew about it, and no one in the room at this moment could tell that the girl was almost dying inside. Wanting to say something, anything about being a total bitch and purposely avoiding him because she knew it would be weird, like it was now. Or something about how no, she doesn't think anything less of him, it's amazing what he lives like.
Mr. Hiddleston coughed, pulling them out of their thoughts to see he was already back in his chair. "Guys, action."
Mark nodded quickly and went to his place. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, ready."
They went on with the scene, Phillip stood to the side of the stage. Arms crossed and leaning against one of the sets, David came up behind him, making the red head look up.
"They so have something for each other." The dark haired boy said with a smirk. He tipped the fake-wine bottle to his lips and took a large sip.
Phil huffed a laugh and nodded. "Yup, kid's been floating all the time lately." He turned to face David, raising an eyebrow. "You do realize that it's not wine, right? Just apple juice or something?"
David rubbed under his nose and swished the drink in the bottle. "Call it, getting into character." He shrugged. "You ever had any fine wine, Barton?"
Phillip turned away from him. "Nope."
"You need to live a little dude, you always seem so serious." The taller boy smirked behind the glass.
"Oh," Phil shrugged and sarcastically continued. "I guess having your mother get killed by a drunk douche kinda leaves a bad taste for alcohol in your mouth."
David was taken aback for a moment. He stayed silent for only a second before his tone was turning serious. "I'm sorry man, that was a dick thing to say."
"Oh, shut up." Phil gave him a mock glare before huffing an amused laugh when David was still sincere. "Relax, it's no big deal."
Suddenly an pair of arms wrapped around both their shoulders. "Sup barricaders?" Abby said, leaning her head in between theirs.
David smirked and crossed his arms. "We are observing the mating ritual of two awkward species in their natural habitat."
Phil scoffed while rolling his eyes. "Mean, but sadly true."
"They are cute together though." Abby squinted at Markus and Claire as they continued the scene on stage. "Like, Mark is tall and scrawny, and Claire is short and medium sized. You know, like, not fat but not grossly skinny either." She unwrapped her arms from them when Mr. Hiddleston was calling out Cosette's Que.
"They are good together, aren't they?"
"You know David's totally in the closet, right?" Abby teased Phillip as they were helping clean up the stage after rehearsal.
Phil put down the fake tree to look at her doubtfully. "Not funny. And he isn't."
"Are you kidding me? Love is in the air mon ami." She teased in French. "And just look at him, a yellow fedora? with matching pants? Kid, a guy who's into the Va-jay-jay does not wear yellow skinny jeans." She gestured to the teen in question's outfit. "Plus I was practically grinding my boobs against him, no reaction!"
"I would appreciate it if you never said that again."
Abby huffed and smirked as she eyed the dark haired boy they were discussing. "Fine, if you don't believe me." She waved her hand and yelled across the stage to him. "Hey David! Get over here!"
The teen shrugged and did a little jog to meet them. "Yeah?"
"You gay or what?"
David stepped back. "Excuse me?"
Phil rolled his eyes. "Abby, c'mon." He crossed his arms and looked David. "But seriously dude, what's going on with you?"
David twirled his head, looking to see if anyone was watching. He ushered the two the come closer and whispered. "Look, if you must know, and Im telling you this because I know you won't make a big deal about it, I...am interested. In the male population."
Abby shoved Phillip's shoulder with a smug smirk on her face. "See? I told you."
"You guys, discussed this?" David gave them a questioning look.
Abby huffed annoyingly. "Yes, we're weird. We guess people's sexuality and then ask about it I went over this months ago." She sighed quickly and shooed him away, they got the answer to their question, that was all that was needed from him. "Well, good to know, you can be on your way."
David gave her a cautious glance before slowly turning and walking back. "But David," Phil called out to him. "Beware the white girls wanting a gay best friend. Their deadly and vicious."
The other teen huffed a laugh and waved a small goodbye. A little ways over Mark was accidentally on purpose running into Claire.
"Listen," The dark haired boy started, holding out a hand to explain. "I'm sorry I just ran off that night, but my mom really was flipping out." He tried to smile innocently.
Claire only smiled and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, that's not really your fault. I was sort of being a bitch by avoiding you. It's like," she sighed and looked to the floor. "we were just having that moment, and your life and just you in general are so awesome. And, then there me. A boring normal person."
"Claire," Mark made her look him in the eye. "trust me, you are not boring. You dye your hair and wear roller blades and apparently have parent issues so you sleep in the catwalks. Who does that?"
She smirked and pushed his chest lightly. "You are quite the flirt, Markus Banner."
"It may seem like I have charm, but trust me I am very awkward if you get to know me." Mark laughed and rubbed his neck.
"Good, maybe my parents'll like that when I tell them Im dating you now." She smiled at him knowingly before grabbing his hand and making him take a piece of paper. She patted his shoulder and started to walk away, leaving Mark gaping and asking himself.
"What?"
"Pete! Can you get in here for a second?" The brunette heard his father call him from the living room. He shut his laptop on his desk and rolled out of he chair was sitting on, making his way to Tony.
"Yeah?" Peter greeted, leaning against the wall. Steve and Tony were on the couch, the captains arm wrapped around his husband's waist.
Steve smiled and held up a small package. "Guess who's New York University College of Arts and Science letter came."
"Nu uh," Pete immediately felt excited and terrified all at the same. He raced over and sat next to them on the couch, taking the parcel and testing it's weight. "It's thick, that means means acceptance right?"
Tony huffed a laugh. "Or maybe they couldn't fit the name of he school on one price of paper."
"Tony, shut it."
"Yeah dad, shut it." Abby smirked from where she appeared seemingly out of nowhere, standing behind the bar.
"What did you say young lady?" Steve scolded.
Abby put on an innocent expression. "Nothing."
Peter shook his package and drew everyone's attention. "My future is in this stupid thing, you know." He huffed and leaned back on the couch.
The slow trepidation started to rise in the teen because oh god he was growing up and going to college and move out which means no more high school or Abby or pulling Phillip off the kids he's beating the shit out of or no more Amelia asking him weird questions his to make it awkward and after this summer he'll have to get a job and a house and maybe even family and maybe Gwen would be that family or maybe MJ and Harry might even still be friends with him and maybe he'll have kids or maybe adopt cuz he was adopted and he should help other kids that might be like him or Abby but him and Gwen's children would be so beautiful and-
"Peter?" Steve pulled his son out of the fog. "Do you want to open it?"
"Um," Peter stuttered and picked up the parcel again. "Yeah, yeah. Give me a second." He breathed once before quickly ripping off the top. 'Like a bandaid' they always said. Pete found the first piece of paper. A simple letter he read aloud. "Dear Mr. Peter P. Rodgers, we are happy to inform you that you have been ACCEPTED INTO NYUCAS!" He stood up and excitedly shouted the last words.
"Yes!" Tony was shouting right along with him and didn't hesitate to wrap Peter into a tight hug, Steve joined and made it bone crushing. Abby bounced and clapped from behind the bar.
Steve let go of them and just looked. Looked at his happy they all were. Peter was growing up, he hated to think of it but he would be so smart and so good at whatever job came his way. It might be in SI, it not be, he didn't really think it mattered. And Abigail, she was sitting on her hands waiting for her letter. California Institute for the Arts was her first choice. California, way too far away in both Tony and Steve's opinion, but they weren't going to hold her back.
Their kids were actually growing up.
It was great, and it scared the hell out of the two men at the same time.
"Happy birthday!" Phillip woke up Amelia with a loud announcement and violently shaking her shoulders. He quickly reached the knife he knew was on the backside of her nightstand before Amy could and turned it on her. "You're a bit slow."
"Well excuse me if I haven't been in any life or death situations in a while." The blonde groaned and grumbled while sinking back into her bed, burying her head in the pillows and away from the sun. "Why don't you scare me half to death, that'd be a nice birthday present." She groaned sarcastically.
Phil smirked, put the knife back and spread his arms out. "C'mon Amy, it's like, eleven. You never sleep this long, always going for a run or something. I had to make sure you weren't dead." He glanced towards her windows before closing the curtains. The red head sat on the edge of her bed and teased lightly. "Dad made the pancakes you like."
"You run too, at night. like a weirdo." She teased and didn't let her brother see the spark of interest at the mention of food. "With little strawberries and blueberries in them?"
"Gross," the older sibling rolled his eyes. "but yeah. He also made things that normal people eat." He lightly pushed her shoulder and got up, heading towards her door.
Amelia sat upright, messy blonde hair sticking up in some places. "Normal? What's that?"
"Have no idea." He laughed over his shoulder.
Amelia smirked to herself and flung her legs over the edge of the bed. Fifteen. Wasn't she supposed to be the baby? What ever happened to that? She didn't feel fifteen, she still felt young, the last of this chaotic batch of children. Maybe it was that she was only freshmen, mean to be a sophomore. Clint did hold her back from first grade for reasons he would not say.
He always kept her close that year, especially after Ribner. She understood that, but Amelia was fairly certain it wasn't only that she was scared. The little six-year-old could deal with it, Clint really didn't have to take her out of school completely. Steve and Ton or Bruce and Darcy didn't have to basically adopt her when Clint wasn't home. He was so paranoid, if literally anyone they didn't know looked at her, he'd immediately pull her closer. It was for something. She knew it. Yeah, the whole thing totally freaked her out, it still does, but it had to be for something bigger. Bigger than one guy.
Why the hell won't her father tell anyone anything?
"So many questions and answers that somehow seem wrong." The blonde quietly sang part of Abby's character's solo to herself.
Or even Phil.
Like how he'd been taking Zoloft.
Amelia guess she could understand that one, but why not mention something? Not leave her to find it in his bathroom when all she wanted was some toothpaste. Okay, so maybe she had looked at bottle of pills when she glanced in the cabinet behind the mirror. But Phil was happy, genuinely happy. That didn't just happen over night. Yes, she should've let it be, but why the hell wouldn't he let anyone know? It's not like it would be embarrassing. Amy was always sure that kid had issues, why not try to fix them?
"Amelia! Are you actually going toward up or do I need to sic Phil on you again?" She huffed a laugh when she heard Clint call for her. The blonde ran a hand through her hair and got to kitchen, the smell of pancakes calling out to her. Fifteen or not, pancakes are fucking good.
Clint smiled from where he was in front if the pancake fryer and opened an arm to invite her in. Amelia embraced him fully cuz dammit sometimes you need to hug your dad because you never know when he won't come back. The archer kissed her hair and spoke softly in Russian. "С Днем Рождения моя девушка." He let her go to sit at the table with Phil. (Happy birthday my girl)
"Благодаря папе." (Thanks dad)
Phil rolled his eyes and tapped his fork on the table. "яй, мы сказали, что наши приветствия в значимых русских, теперь мы можем пожалуйста, есть?" (Yay, we said our greetings in meaningful Russian, can we please eat?)
"Impatient much?" Amelia shot him an annoyed look.
"I have been up since eight on a Sunday morning just to eat breakfast." When Phillip did decide to sleep, he would prefer it be for a long time. Clint waking him up saying that it's time for breakfast - when it wasn't and he really just wanted help from the kid - did not have him very patient. "I am starving."
"I let you have some of the batter." Clint justified weakly. He set the plates of pancakes, bacon, sausage, and some waffles on the table. Phillip didn't hesitate to start piling food on his plate.
"Batter means nothing to me old man." The red head said in between bites.
Clint rolled his eyes and continued to cut his food in a proper manner. "I'm not old." He pressed. Amelia laughed.
"You keep telling yourself that dad."
The archer let out an exasperated sigh. Such polite and considerate children he has. "Forty three is not old." He blew out a breath when they snickered. "Maybe this old man will forget to give someone her present later then." He said smugly.
Amelia immediately turned innocent and put her head in her hands to look at her father. "Oh, I love you so much daddy, you don't look a day over thirty. You're such a handsome young man." Phillip made a series of fake coughs with something along the lines of 'kiss ass' in between them.
"Eat your food, Phillip Alexander." Clint said stoically as a warning for the insult.
Amy smirked and teased him. "Ooh, you got the middle name."
"Whatever." Phillip groaned and bit off another piece of bacon. "It's not like it was bad."
"Well, I don't like you two insulting each other." Clint told him simply. "One day it'll be just you guys, I don't want you to be distant."
"It was one little remark, we're not going to hate each other for the rest of our lives." Amelia pointed out, finishing the meal.
"I know, I know." Clint started to clean up some of the plates, passing them to Phil who passed them to Amy to be rinsed and in the dishwasher. "Hey Phil, what time does your play thing start next week?" The father asked.
"Oh," Phillip waved him off. "You don't have to go to that if you don't want to." He quickly pushed the rest of the plates into Amelia's arms and headed back to his room. "I'm going back to sleep, wake me when there's cake."
Clint was taken aback for a second. Phil loved working on that play, he'd come home humming some of the songs and Clint knows that kid loves it too. He turned to Amelia. "Does he not want me come?"
"No," The blonde clarified. "He really wants you to come. But doesn't want to place the obligation on you or something."
Clint leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "Why would he think that I wouldn't want to see him?"
"Dad," Amelia sighed like it was obvious. "Phil is Phil, and will always be Phil, even on the good drugs. And he will never let you go out of your way to do anything for him...willingly." She added the last word with a shrug. The blonde finished pipeline the dishes in the washer.
Clint nodded and ruffled her hair teasingly. "Then I'll go to see your fantastic lighting."
"Cake?" Darcy held up a plate of the purple-iced chocolate cake from where she was leaning against Bruce's lab doorway. "Clint made it himself." She added trying to sell it.
The scientist spun his chair around to face her and smiled at his wife. Hm, wife. It still sounded strange to him, even after fourteen years Bruce couldn't believe he was actually married to this amazing woman. He couldn't believe he was married at all, and had a child. Not even a child, Mark was almost an adult. Way too fast, everything was going. Bruce suddenly got up and wrapped his arms around Darcy. Taking in her oddly nice smell of coffee and lavender. "I love you so much." He mumbled in her hair.
"I love you too." She responded, slightly surprised. It wasn't a rare occurrence that they told each other those three words, but it usually wasn't because of food. "You're really glad I brought you cake than, eh?" She joked smiling and looked up to him, Bruce kissed her lips as a response.
"I just really love you, Darcy. We're like an old married couple." He said sweetly. She leaned her head against his chest. They started swaying on their feet.
"Like? Brucey, we are so those sweet old people who would live next door." This is Darcy counting forty-one and forty-four as 'old'. What ever happened to them, being those young, in love people? She actually grew up, it was like Darcy was raising her self along with Mark. "I want the baby years back." She murmured.
"The what?"
"The baby years. Like when we could put Mark to bed and read him children's books that I swear the authors were on crack." Bruce chuckled and she hit his back. "I'm serious. Who the hell would talk to a tree, kill it, then sit on it's face when you're old? That guy was on acid throughout that whole book." She sighed. "But I just want the baby years, Peter and Abby are leaving only almost four months. Then Mark's gone, and he's even liking some girl Brucey. And we're just old and alone in this stupid huge apartment."
"Do you not like the apartment Darcy?" Bruce asked humorously.
"No I love it here." She admitted with a laugh. "I raised my baby here."
Bruce looked down at her with a mock surprised expression. "You raised your baby here?"
"Yes. Finders keepers." She said smugly. "We make horrible jokes."
"Oh, so now it's 'we'?"
"Of course, don't you know how this works Banner?" Darcy teased.
"I've come to learn Banner." Bruce retorted gleefully.
"Darcy Banner still sounds wrong." She shrugged and smiled.
"I know, Darce." Bruce huffed and agreed. Darcy would never let it slide that he wanted to take his name. "Still wouldn't blame you if you ran off Jensen Ackles." How he remembered their old joke was above the scientist.
"Ah, but Darcy Ackles would be even worse."
Markus pretended to have not heard the whole Kodak moment when he rapped gently on the door. "We're going out." He nodded over to the elevator.
The couple untangled themselves from each other and Bruce nodded. "Have fun."
"Don't get arrested." Darcy added.
Mark shrugged and held up a hand. "I actually can't promise that."
The two would only laugh when they hear that the kids got detention for building a barricade in the school.
"Dad! Hurry up we're going to be late!" Abigail shouted from where she was holding the elevator door open, waiting for Tony to drive the family to the musical. "We have to be half an hour early, we're already five minutes late!"
Peter smirked. "You're very good at channeling your inner, gentle Cosette Ab."
"Whatever stage hand." She rolled her eyes and glanced at her brother. Dressed in all black for camouflage while changing sets. "You look good in black, you should wear it more often."
"Thanks..?"
"Just saying, maybe Gwen'll like the punk look instead of that jacket you always wear." She winked at him.
"Gwen doesn't care what I wear and she shouldn't." Peter responded seriously. "I promised to keep her out of it."
"Pete, that was almost a year ago. You haven't even told anyone else, nor have you made any enemies or whatever." Abby turned to face him fully. She started to play with her hair, some of the fancy curls coming loose from the bun. "You still like her. I can see it."
"Are you a wizard or something?" Peter shook his head. "Seriously, you know everything. Phil and David, Mark and Claire, me and Gwen. Who's Amelia going to eventually end up with? You probably know."
"I never said Phil and David end up together, out loud at least." She smirked. "And Amy's going to become a quiet school teacher in Iowa and eventually marry a guy named Patrick."
"Wow," Peter nodded sarcastically. "Very specific. You know Claire and David are twins, right? That'd be weird if Phil and Mark each got together with one of them."
Abby smiled and look down to adjust her hair more. "Wouldn't that be cool if that actually happened though?"
"If what happened?" Tony and Steve finally appeared in the doorway.
"Nothing, let's go. We're late." Abby pushed the button to close the elevator doors and off they went.
"Why the hell are this many people here at a high school play?" Darcy grumbled as she and Bruce squeezed through the crowd to find a seat.
Bruce only chuckled and issued a lot of 'excuse us' and 'pardons' to other parents, and possibly a few recruiters from some colleges. He wasn't paying attention for a second and knocked into a blonde woman.
"I am so sorry." He held up a hand to apologize when she turned to face him. He was met with striking blue eyes that Bruce never thought he'd see again. "Betty?" He asked the woman cautiously.
She blinked and looked at him more before starting to gape. "Oh my god. Bruce Banner, can't believe it's you."
"Uh, yeah. It's..it's been a long time." The brunette stuttered and held out a hand to shake her's. "What-what are you doing here?" He asked, glancing around to make sure no one else, or her father, was here with her. That was one thing that wasn't needed tonight.
"My cousin's son and daughter are in the musical." She laughed awkwardly and pointed towards the stage. "Um, oh who do they play?" Betty pressed a hand to her head. "Yes! It's Eponine and Grantaire. Maybe you'll see them. I don't know, they're in the program."
"Oh," OH. Bruce remembers Mark going on about the whole story line and how Eponine has some major scenes with Marius. And how he may, or may not be in to the girl playing her. Great. "That's good. Um, me and my wife were coming to see a friend of ours' son." The scientist waved to Darcy to come over by them, he wrapped an arm around her waist and turned back to Betty. "Betty, this is Darcy. My wife." He added quietly. "Darcy, this is one if my old colleges, Betty." He ducked his head close to her ear and continued gently. "Ross."
Darcy actually took a step back and looked to Bruce to see if he was serious. He nodded quietly, but showed no sign that they should take Mark out of here. "Ross." Darcy confirmed with herself and gave Betty a fake smile while shaking her hand. "Bruce has told me about you, once or twice. How's your father doing?" 'Yeah, you little cumslut how is daddy dick doing?' Darcy was basically screaming in her head.
Betty was surprised but nodded answered anyway. "He actually is retired. For about three years now, I think."
'Three years my ass'. The lights in the auditorium started to dim and signal the starting of the play. Bruce ushered Darcy back to the seats she found and waved goodbye to Betty.
The brunette woman instantly started spitting fire. "I can't believe she would actually admit to ever knowing you or even have the nerve to act like nothing happened and that her own father is the cause of our son being terrified half the time and-"
"Darcy, she doesn't even know." Bruce cut her off and grabbed her hand in a comforting manor. "I'm sure no one's here for Mark."
She sighed and put her head in her hands. "I don't like her being here, and I really don't like Mark or even Phillip anywhere near those other kids."
He rubbed her back gently while pulling out his phone. "I'll tell Peter to stay by them, that Mark fell earlier today, okay? They won't panic, but they'll be together. Everything'll be just fine."
Abigail ignored when Phillip grumbled at her forcefully putting a palm to his forehead. His sweaty, burning hot forehead. "Oh, you are not sick." She groaned, dragging him to sit down on a changing bench backstage.
"Of course I'm not sick." He protested when she started to fill a waterbottle and leaned back against the lockers. "I'm just tired."
"Yes, and I suppose you're tired from swimming on the sun." She scolded, handing him the water. "I knew you'd get something by tonight. I swear to God you have the immune system of a homeless cat." Phil only looked up at her and reluctantly took a sip from the bottle. However he managed to only break out in disease tonight would be a mystery, but the kid did look miserable. Abby softened and ruffled his hair gently. "Just, sleep on the bench. You got an hour before Enjolas shows up, I'll wake you." She promised and left after making sure he laid down.
David, after being ordered to by Abby, made the mistake of trying to shake Phillip awake. He realized this when he found himself on the ground, Phil twisting his arm so far back that he thought it might break. It wasn't a thought provoked action for the red head, he only felt a touch and it was all instinct. He was naturally already aware that sleeping in an unprotected public area along with being sick and vulnerable = bad.
"Okay, okay, sorry. Let go." Phil blinked and realized there was no threat, he released David's arm and helped him up. "Well, someone's full of surprises."
"You really shouldn't touch me when I'm sleeping." Phil told him stoically, heading towards the stage.
"I figured." David crossed his arms and followed him. The dark haired boy noticed the sweat around his peer's neck. "You have like five more minutes before we go on, are you sure you don't want to sit-"
"I'm fine." Phillip insisted. "I've done more with worse."
David raised his eyebrows at how simply Phillip admitted it. "That's slightly terrifying."
The red head huffed. "I guess it is."
"Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men.
It is the music of the people who,
Will not be slaves again.
When the beating of your heart,
Echoes the beating if the drums.
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes."
The entire cast of Les Miserables in that high school softly hummed the song when they went out to the stage and took a great bow. There was much applause and a standing ovation.
"Dad!" Amelia waved obnoxiously to Clint over the sea of students and parents trying to get to their cars. "Father!" She grabbed her brother's hand to squeeze though the people and meet the archer.
Clint greeted them happily. "You guys did awesome! The lighting though, whew, they need to fire that kid." He gently pushed Amy's shoulder as he joked. Clint looked to Phillip, tired but happy. Really happy. "How you feeling kid?"
"You know, I'm about to pass out, but actually pretty good."
"Good." Clint smiled and wrapped and arm around each of them. "Let's go home."
And as Christopher Bates watched from afar, he knew. No matter how short the exchange was, he knew that Clint Barton would never lay a hand on his children.
Hooray! so lots o' stuff happened, and I will continue with David and Claire and what happens with them and their 'relations' to a certain person...
I don't think Betty had a cousin, but oh well. I made an alien baby and passed him off as human so...I'm not a fan of logic and reasoning.
I would love love LOVE reviews cuz I actually worked hard on this and stuff!