Clint's POV

"I don't have anything to wear!" I grumble, shuffling through my closet again. Natasha, who was previously sorting through hair products, leans out of the bathroom to give me an odd look. "No, really!" I continue. "I'm not being a diva, I swear I literally have nothing to wear!"

"You have plenty good suits," she points out. "And plus, I don't think she would care if you showed up wearing a cardboard box – just as long as you showed up. And why do you care so much?"

I give a shrug. "This means a lot to her, Tash, I'd rather look good."

She mumbles something incoherent and moves back into the bathroom.

Today was a really important event in Avengers Tower – well, actually, it wasn't happening in the tower, more 200 miles away in Cambridge, Massachusetts – but it was a big event all the same.

Today Taylor was graduating summa cum laude from MIT as the valedictorian.

Tony, who had been bragging about this fact for weeks, had an Armani suit already picked out and had been rushing around all morning, going over his commencement speech and the travel arrangements. Bruce was split between helping him and choosing a suit for Thor, who, of course, had no idea what he was doing because apparently the only thing similar to this on Asgard was when a guy or girl reached 2000 years old and received their godly name, title, and domain. Steve, thankfully, knew his way around a suit, and there were even some companies still around from the 40's.

Taylor herself was actually in Massachusetts and had been for the past month. I'm told she had been doing the courses virtually for the past four years in order to keep up with the superhero work, but she had to appear on campus to take the final exams and fill out all the necessary paperwork for today's ceremony. The rest of us got a break as well, for she – as VP of Stark Industries – had convinced Steve and Tony, leader and second-in-command of the Avengers respectively, to put us on suspended duty for a month; meaning no meetings but we could still respond to calls because Taylor reasoned that she "wasn't one of the main Avengers and you guys could still go on missions because I kind of need the world to not burn before I get my Master's."

So far, we had gotten lucky.

"Hey, Nat, what do you think I should-"

"Avengers, you are being requested to assemble on the 45thh floor communal floor for a debriefing, all Avengers please report to the 45th floor."

So far.

I sigh and grit my teeth as I hoist myself into the vents, quickly making my way into the communal space with a pit stop in my room to grab my bow and redesigned flat quiver, which Taylor had designed for the both of us so she finally had something to wear with her suit.

I step into the communal room just behind Natasha to be greeted by a bunch of annoyed superheroes, all in full uniform except for Tony, who was wearing an MIT hoodie and sweatpants over his black undersuit.

"Take it away, Cap," I sigh, perching on a table.

"Here's hoping this won't take too long. So here's what going on: we've got an alien…blob…thing…in Manchester. It seems like it absorbs everything, and it's mowing down entire neighborhoods. Tony, when to we have to be in Cambridge?"

"3:00, ceremony starts at 4."

"Right, and it's about ten now, so we've got six hours to defeat this thing. Tony, Clint, bring Taylor's gear, just in case."

"We won't be calling her into this." Tony warns defensively, and I nod.

Steve puts his hands up in surrender. "Of course not. I just want her to be ready just in case this thing gets too close to wherever she is. I want her prepared."

"Boy Scout," Tony snorts, but he leaves to go get Beta III anyways. I do the same, grabbing her gear out of the armory and packing her bow case.

We all return to the communal room, and Steve looks at us all before nodding sharply.

"Let's go."

An hour later, we've arrived on scene, gotten in position, and discovered that this gigantic blob is one tough little (big) SOB.

Bullets didn't affect it, nor did Steve's shield. Tony's repulsors and Thor's lightning burnt it, but the burns instantly healed over. My arrows simply acted like a bee sting: annoying, but only a small sting. Hulk could get a hit on the thing, but the blob just bounced back after all of his punches.

Tony had a plan to take this thing down – find it's center heart or brain and burn it for long enough, it should…I dunno die, melt, cease to exist.

But therein lies a problem – we need someone that's a bit smarter than your average bear to do that, and one genius was a bit busy being shot at and the second was busy, you know, being the Hulk. The third viable option was awaiting her college graduation ceremony, and we weren't going to pull her in until the world started burning or we reached Massachusetts. Whichever came first.

(The other two – Betty and Jane – weren't even brought up.)

"Can we trap it anywhere?" Tony asks desperately. "I only need a minute-"

"No," I tell him bitterly, "because guess who's got the nets?"

He groans and there's an explosion on his end of the line before he clicks off again and zooms off, presumably to go find another vantage point.

I take another three shots – an explosive arrow, a poisonous arrow, and an electric arrow – but nothing works.

Until I remember another type of arrow I've got in my quiver; it's newest addition, in fact. "Guys, I may have a way to end this!"

"Hawkeye, what is it?" Steve asks eagerly.

"Taylor made me an arrow right before she left," I explain. "It apparently expels this black putty-like stuff to keep something or someone in place and can't be broken by human means."

"Okay, what about non-human means?"

"Um…" I bite my lip. "I don't know. We never got to test it – we were going to and then she got called off."

"Did she, by chance, tell you what it's made of?" Tony asks hopefully.

"No. She never does." I sigh.

I hear him growl in frustration, even though he probably expected that answer. "Okay…maybe I can access her files. Gimme a sec, someone cover me."

And then he's gone. I sigh but sight Iron Man anyways, picking off anyone who got too close to the metal suit, which hadn't stopped moving but had ceased it's fire.

Iron Man is quiet for almost another forty-five minutes before I hear his comm unit crackle again. "Damn."

"What is it, Iron Man?" Steve asks with a mixture of hope and exasperation coloring his voice.

"I've taught her well," he admits. "This is – this is worse than what I've got on the suits! These are, like, Jarvis-level encryptions! What are so important about these arrows?!"

"Oh, I don't know, Stark." Natasha comments dryly. "Maybe it's the fact that Hawkeye is a world-famous master assassin that is on the hit list of thousands and she is the only one making his weapons? Those firewalls are the difference between life and death."

"Well when you put it like that…" Tony concedes petulantly. "Okay…putty arrows, putty arrows…oh, here. Project 118181523-1621202025."

He's silent for another minute, then-

"Oh, this is awesome. I'm so proud of myself for having a genius kid. Alright, Hawkeye, here's the deal: you'll be able to hold this thing, but only if the putty's hot. Fire a slow-burn arrow with the putty one, it should heat it up enough. Also, if you fire two arrows close enough to each other, the putty will merge."

I nod, and Cap comes back on with a plan. "Listen up. There's a spot a few blocks away where we can capture this thing, on the corner of Puckett and 34th. Hawkeye, go get in position. Iron Man, Thor, lead this thing over there. We've got four hours left."

It took two hours for the thing to move two blocks. Two. Freaking. Hours.

Apparently Jell-O monsters don't have a sense of urgency.

For the last hour and a half I had been perched on the roof of a Walmart, on top of one of those big silver AC units, humming some stupid song about Spanish capitals.

And then, finally, Steve radios through. "Hawkeye, confirm position."

"Confirmed." I draw a putty arrow and a hot one, notching both on my bowstring. "Awaiting your command, Cap."

He's silent for a moment, and I can see the big, gray-ish blob inching through the alley across the street.

"Now."

I fire the two arrows towards the building on the left of the alley, then two more to the one on the right; standing back to watch as a black substance bleeds out of the arrows, a slight orange tint to it because of the heat.

The putty doesn't move very fast, but fifteen minutes later a black band is stretched across the mouth of alley.

"It worked," I inform them over the comms. "We've got it cornered."

"Good." I can almost hear Steve's nod. "Iron Man, find the center. Thor, follow him and aim where he does. Hawkeye, stand by."

I sit back and relax a tiny bit as I watch Tony and Thor circle the trapped and enraged (I think) beast.

And then Tony stops, above what I thought was it's upper back. "Found it. Taking aim."

And suddenly there's a loud clap of thunder, a gust of stormy wind, and a flash of light as Tony's repulsor beams and Thor's lighting hit the same spot, the gelatinous material sizzling and hissing like the most unappetizing bacon ever.

I wrinkle my nose at the putrid smell of rotting eggs the thing was giving off as it disintegrated. "God, this thing needs a shower."

"As will we all." Thor – who had a shock-proof, modified, Stark-made comm in – agrees. "I do not think that the Lady of Iron will appreciate our presence in our current state."

"We've got one hour forty-five left," I report. "Add in the half hour flight, plus de-arming and cleaning up, that leaves about a half hour or so. We're cutting it close."

"We'll be there." Natasha assures me. "Come hell or high water."

"We better be." Tony grumbles. "I refuse to let history repeat itself."

I blink at that, but decide not to go there because it more than likely had to do with Howard, and that was a no-go subject as much as Loki was. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get going!"

"Almost done…" Tony mumbles. "Oh, this smells. Plug your noses guys, this smells worse than the time Cap-"

"Focus." Steve snaps, and I chuckle lightly.

"Yeah, Tony, focus-" I'm cut off in my impression of a stern Steve by a litany of swears coming from Tony.

"Damn it all – guys! Get to high ground, now! This thing is going to get wet, quick!"

I watch as the final semi-solid parts of the blob dissolve, watching it all form into a ball of water about the size of the building beside it.

"Hawkeye!" I recognize Natasha's voice. "A little help here?!"

I take a step forward and glance over the edge of my building, noticing Natasha standing just below my perch. I quickly grab a grappling hook arrow and attach it to the building, jumping off the building to land next to the Black Widow before hauling us both back up.

We both make it back to the roof just in time to watch a massive wave rush through the streets, Iron Man following the leading edge out, probably to see how far the water would spread.

"Report!" Cap barks.

"Here," I answer immediately. I glance up at Thor, who was hovering about a hundred feet off the ground. "And I have eyes on Thor, he's fine."

"I'm with Hawkeye," Natasha reports.

"I'm about two miles out," Tony replies. "The water will spread for about another half mile. We don't need to evacuate anything, the cops have already got that. Cap, are you okay?"

"I'm good. Do we need to clean this up?"

"Nah." I can almost hear Tony's smirk. "I called in a favor with an annoying bungee cord of a scientist and his band of merry misfits. We have a graduation to get to."

Half an hour later we all step back into the Tower, half of us soaked to the bone (everyone who couldn't fly) and all of us rushing around like madmen (and woman) to get dressed, because it was 2:00 and we weren't even close to being ready.

We all scurry off to our floors to get out of our suits, take showers, and get dressed in what Tony called 'half-formal'.

I peel off my soaking clothes and quickly jump through a shower, shaving and applying a aftershave Taylor has outright told me she liked. I emerge back into my bedroom and blink at the suit laid out on my bed with a note that read you're an idiot. – Natasha.

I grin and shake my head in amusement.

The suit is a two-piece, double breasted, steel grey suit with a white shirt, shiny black shoes, and a lavender silk tie with a matching handkerchief. She had even included cuff links: a set of the stainless steel Avengers 'A' cuff links Taylor had gotten everyone for last Christmas.

I get dressed as fast as I can, slipping a holster on my right ankle, fitting a knife in the lining of my jacket and a minigun on my hip.

I'm just finishing fastening the last button on my jacket as I walk back out, bypassing the vents to preserve my suit.

The rest of the team has cleaned up nicely; Tony's in a charcoal grey suit with lighter grey pinstripes and a red tie with and Iron Man tie clip, Bruce has gone completely classic with black suit and tie, Steve has a dark brown suit with a khaki shirt and tie, and Thor is looking surprisingly good in a navy blue suit with a silver shirt and tie and Mjolnir cuff links. Natasha's dressed in a green cocktail dress with flowy chiffon half-sleeves. She grins at me. "Nice work."

I roll my eyes. "Thank you, one-who-did-all-the-work."

She shrugs and I go to grab Taylor's bow case off the couch, quickly checking to make sure everything was there before shutting it again and latching it.

"Let's go, let's go…" Tony anxiously waves us towards the landing pad, where the jet was ready and waiting. "2:45, really! You people take forever to get ready!"

"Calm down." I advise him, then add "Prima donna," quieter.

Tony narrows his eyes at me suspiciously but hurries onto the plane anyways.

The flight there is fairly normal, filled with Tony's chatter about MIT (which I ignored) and Natasha falling asleep about five minutes in.

We touch down not far from the campus, a black Cadillac SUV waiting for us on the tarmac.

"Jarvis, tell Taylor we just touched down and we're on our way now," Tony orders as we all pile into the car, Tony himself taking the wheel and me calling shotgun.

"Does she know why we're not there yet?" I wonder aloud.

Tony raises an eyebrow at me. "You mean does she know about the sentient blob that flooded the Bronx?"

"Yeah."

"No." He shakes his head. "Because if I had told her, she would have worried, and then she would have missed her own graduation to come help us." I start to protest, and he gives me a dubious look. "Don't, Barton, you know she would."

I concede his point with a nod, and silence blooms in the car until Tony's phone chirps, showing that he has a message.

And chirps again.

And again.

And again-

"What the-" Tony grabs his phone and taps a few buttons. "Ohhkaay, she's freaking out."

I perk up. "Taylor? What? Why?"

"Whoa there Legolas." He glances over at me. "She's fine. Just pre-show jitters, if you will. And we're not there yet – Natasha." He hands his phone back to her. "Text her in Russian, that usually calms her down."

Natasha nods and I can hear keys clicking extremely quickly, and I bite my lip anxiously.

"Seriously, Barton." I look over at Tony. "She's alright. She does this before every conference, every expo, every speech…everything. Trust me on this."

I sigh and rest my head against the car window, my nerves easing just slightly.

We pull into the campus parking lot and Tony shows some form of ID to some guard that gets us into a slightly more secluded area.

Tony quickly leads us onto the campus, cutting a quick path towards the building marked 'Auditorium'.

"You guys go find seats." Tony orders once we're inside, passing Natasha some papers. "Someone text me where you end up. I'm going to find my daughter."

And then he's off again, leaving me blinking in his wake. "How much coffee did he have this morning?"

"As compared to his usual amount?" Bruce frowns. "About double."

"That man's going to have a heart attack one day." Natasha grumbles, leading us off to our seats.

It turns out Tony's reserved six seats in the VIP section, which was up on a second level balcony and gave us all a bird's eye view of the entire stage.

The fifteen minutes before 4:00 pass like lighting, and soon enough the lights are dimming and the announcer is welcoming the one and only Tony Stark, MIT class valedictorian of 1991, to the stage for the commencement speech.

"The future minds of tomorrow are bred today." Tony starts. "And the best minds the world has to offer are bred right here, at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. And, bonus, these kids are pretty tough too, because if we're all honest with ourselves MIT is a special kind of hell." He pauses to let the crowd laugh. "Really, though. Two days to work on eight page essays, a month to write a thesis paper…" he shakes his head. "But I suppose that's just how the students see it. When I was seventeen, that's how I saw it. But – and I know I'm going to sound like a hypocrite – now that I have my own sixteen year old here, I know that might not be the case.

"I mean, sure, there are a few bad apples in the sack that just enjoy seeing sleep-deprived college kids writhe in pain, but most of the staff here doesn't actually hate the students." He gives a mock gasp of horror. "I know, right? Absurd! But all the teachers want from you here is better. Better work and better grades, ergo, a better job, better relationships, and a better life. When you're ninety something, and you're looking back on your life, you might forget where it all started, but it all started here. Because these adults want better for you, and you'll want better for your kids, and that's a never ending cycle."

"So remember this hell when you take your first steps in the world, because this pain is all about betterment. Thank you." Tony grins as the audience bursts into applause, throwing up his signature double peace signs as he disappears off stage.

The announcer begins speaking again, introducing the graduating class of 2015, going on to introduce the President of MIT for his speech.

"Hey, feathers, let me through!"

I jump ad twist to see Tony looking at me with an annoyed expression in the half-light. "Sorry," I hiss. "Didn't see you come back."

"Obviously," he grumbles quietly, falling silent as "Ackerby, Emmanuel," is the first to be called across the stage.

I will admit that I almost fell asleep before Taylor's name was called, woken out of my daze by Tony punching my side. "Ow! Hey, what-"

"Shh!"

"Stark, Taylor. Graduating with a Master's degree in mechanical engineering and a second in electrical engineering. Graduating summa cum laude, senior class valedictorian."

A red robe emerges from the crowd, her red and grey heels clicking quickly across the stage as she goes to accept her two diplomas, shake the president's hand, and pause for pictures. Once she reaches the other side she goes to join the throng of newly-made alumni gathering, but she pauses.

She turns her head upwards, her sapphire eyes wide as she searches for something –

No. Someone.

I give a taxi whistle, not caring who turns to stare, and wave as her eyes find mine and light up. She gives a happy little wave before skipping (Iron Beta, fearsome Avenger, skipping!) out of view.

Natasha pulls me back into my seat, and after that little burst of excitement the lull continues as the rest of the names are called.

And then, after "Zadora, Tiberius," graduates, the president briefly retakes the stage to congratulate the new alumni before handing the mic off to the salutatorian, who gives a decent speech for about twenty minutes before the president comes back on.

"Thank you for that. Now, please give a warm welcome to the senior valedictorian of 2015, Miss Taylor Stark!"

The crowd bursts into applause as Taylor retakes the stage, waving to the crowd and looking just like her father does around crowds.

She clears her throat, experimentally tapping the mic as she rests her elbows on the podium and clears her throat. "Thank you. You all probably know who I am, even if you didn't go to school with me. You might now me because of what I've done, or because of my dad Tony, who delivered a wonderful commencement speech-" she pauses and glances up at Tony "or, if you've ever been to New York, that really shiny building that always stays on." She gives a small grin.

"But," she leans forward on her forearms, "here's something new: some consider me an oddity. Shocking, yeah? I mean, I'm only graduating college at the age of most high school sophomores, what's so strange about that, right?" she pauses to let the crowd laugh. "But I don't think that. I don't care much either. Because I know I'm a good kid – I've got all I need in life to succeed and make butt loads of money. And so do my former classmates. We've all got everything we need for success – that's from school, teachers, and books. But as for the knowledge on how to use those tools – that came from life itself. And now our new lives are beginning. Here. Now. And we're ready."

She pauses to draw in a breath. "Let's hear it for the class of 2016!"

The alumni raise a roaring cheer as Taylor throws up a hand.

And then, after everything's settled down, the president comes back on, but we're not listening because Tony's led us into a back hallway.

"Dad!" Taylor laughs as she comes rushing out of a side door, dressed in a simple wraparound, form-fitting, sleeveless dress that matches my suit. "Did you see me?"

"Yeah," Tony laughs and ruffles her hair, "heard you too, Miss Rally Cry."

She rolls her eyes at him but keeps the ear-to-ear grin on as she turns to the rest of us, graciously accepting the hugs – even Thor's – and Natasha's "khoroshaya rabota, vypusknik!" (Good job, graduate!)

And then she reaches me.

We stare at each other for a second before I wrap her in a hug that actually lifts her a few inches of the ground, holding her for a second before setting her down and letting go. "Good job."

She grins.

"I'm proud of you," I tell her softly. "And you'll never be an oddity to me."

She nods slowly, and I watch something shift in her expression before she grins again. "I know."

I grin softly as she goes back to chattering excitedly.

Today was a really big day in Stark Tower.

Wow.

This is long – over 4,000 words – but I didn't want to split it. Anyone who understands the title is awesome.

So, I hope you guys liked that. When you review this chapter, can you please tell me if you would read a new story I have in the works called Dissention? It's my take on Captain America: Civil War and the forecast calls for angst – lots and lots of angst with a downpour of feels.

So just tell me if you would read that, and…yeah! Until next time, readers.