ok.
hold onto your butts.
this is the LAST chapter before the Epilogue
Savor it.
Chapter 59
. . . Sometime in the Future . . .
Clint Barton stood at the center sink, staring through the windswept curtains at the two forms bounding across the hill only a few yards away. Brilliant light filtered through the occasional clumps of cumulonimbus stacking in the distant skies. Rain wasn't forecast for another month. The spring lilies remained tucked in their uprooted sheaths of green for that promising new life to come swamping down on them. He was in no rush. The rains lasted for at least two months, and the days always shifted to a dark, dismal state while the promise of sun-long days vanished.
"Don't let her wonder too far off, Flint! Keep close to the house. To the grass, at the least," Clint called through the kitchen window.
The massive, black wolf picked up its 5-gallon head, and swung it toward the house. A long, pink tongue lolled out of his mouth and a short, excited bark replied. The dire wolf trotted off in a circle around the Barton family toddler. She jumped excitedly at him.
"You are the biggest worry wart on the planet. I'm not even this bad," Natasha told him, arriving from the spare room. She snuck in close beside him and threaded her arms around his middle. Chin propped on his shoulder, she watched the wolf and child play. "Besides, you are letting a three hundred pound wolf play with your three year old, and the thing you worry about is whether or not she might trip on a rock."
"Flint's a good boy. He won't hurt her," Clint said.
"Oh, I have no doubt at all about that. I don't think she's even touched her mattress since he got big enough to sleep on."
"Rinon thinks it's the funniest thing every time he comes around with Valya. Those two came out of the same litter, but just the size difference, I can't even believe it."
"Arrow was as big as Valya is," Clint pointed out. "This time, I just happened to bond with a big one. Laice was a good mother to them. The last pup hasn't bonded to anyone that I know of yet. Tony keeps trying to get him to warm up to him, but I don't think that's ever going to happen."
Natasha's head dipped against his neck, sending a chill up his spine. He smiled and turned away from the window, taking her in his arms. Their kiss was rough, wild, and heated. It didn't matter how long they had lived together already, every moment of their lives made up for the time they had lost, run away, or spent trying to keep out of one another's arms. Now they loved unabashedly. Eventually Natasha forced herself off. After all, someone had to set the table, and if Clint had his way, he would find an entirely different use for that space. Natasha smiled, grabbing the mason jar of forks and moved them to the center table. Sighing, he grabbed the stack of dishes he'd been working on, and carted them off beside her.
"You save that," Natasha said, indicating his waist line and everything that lay below it, "For when we aren't having a houseful of friends in five minutes."
Clint snickered. "You aren't sticking any jokes in about what I can do in five minutes?"
She lifted a seductive eyebrow at him, that same eyebrow arch that absolutely drove him wild for her. "I don't want to boost your ego."
Now Clint laughed.
The long wooden table was sturdy enough to support even Thor slamming his glass down onto it, which had happened on many such occasions, and long enough for the entire extended Avengers' family to dine around. Usually, everyone took up their same familiar places along the two benches of seats. Only the ends of the table had single chairs, as it became much easier to store benches when not in use. The rest of the home was very reminiscent of Tony's fantasy 'hobbit hole'. Built into the side of a grassy knoll on the northern reaches of the Blue Skin Mountains, and very near where they intersected with the Lakeheed Rivers, the Barton home had all the intricacies of elven life, with the small comforts of Midgard to keep them well adjusted.
Porthole windows extended through the earth, allowing light in at all angles, and wide, two man-sized halls created a labyrinth of passages from the under-hill home to the taller above-hill structure only a spiral staircase away. Despite Clint's lackluster appreciation for tunnels of any sort (he had a less than stellar history with them on Earth), these halls were so packed in hard work, sweat, and personal touches, that he experienced no disdain for living in their confines. In fact, he began to love them more than the above-hill home, for the exception of his bedroom being up there. No man in his right sense would go on without that.
Along the halls of the under-hill, were little doors. Behind the little doors, were little portals, all individuals, and all labeled specifically in Elvish and English, with signs tacked right over the door posts. Loki had specifically created and designed them for the Barton family use. Clint kept away at the time the Frost Giant came by. After all, he was a man of his word. And he didn't exactly like the idea of murdering someone who came to do him a service as an act of seeking forgiveness.
Two portals led to Midgard, another to Asgard, a third to Xandar and so on, were added as the couple saw fit. Rarely did the Xandar portal find a knock on its outer side, for Peter Quill was much too busy these days trying to fight a certain someone over the rights to Gamora's heart. So much was his fury over the green woman's 'stepping out', he had declared a Guardian of the Galaxy war against none other than Loki himself. Loki, laughing off the notion, froze Quill in place for seven days in the Asgardian courtyard. Eventually, Rocket had a measure of pity on him, and came calling with a long extension cord, and a hairdryer. No one expected a relationship with Loki to last, but for now, it kept them out of trouble, and that was all the universe could ask for.
Other doors saw a greater influx of friends and family. Midgard, in particular, hardly shut at all. There were two, in fact, leading to that place. It became much easier to install one leading directly to Stark Tower, the living room/kitchen in fact, and the other existed at Bruce's part-time residence in Princeton. Often, to save on travel, the scientist would walk through the portal door, enjoy coffee at Clint's home, and walk through the other to enjoy some time with Stark. The idea had been so much a success, Clint hardly shut them at all, unless Alice decided to go trotting by on unsteady feet.
More times than he cared to recount, Alice had appeared, albeit briefly, on Asgard or Midgard. Flint took his charge very seriously, and on just such occasions, headed right into 'search mode'. It never took more than half an hour to come back with the laughing, wayward girl, and usually an Avenger was attached as well.
The over-hill house was a continual work in progress. Clint never found himself quite satisfied at its completion, and enjoyed randomly destroying a wall one day, reforming it the next, and shifting around the current rooms they did have. The only room he hadn't touched in the past six months, was the kitchen. Partly, because it was in use so often he had no time to consider it out of commission, and partly because it had become almost a staple in their lives. Changing it, shifted that invisible balance the Avengers had fallen into. It housed all their memories; the things that tied the travelers to their homes. Since the Time Stone had shifted the majority of the Nine Realms, the individual system of planets now existed on the same, basic timeline. No longer did hours on Asgard translate to days on Midgard, or days in Alfheimr turn to months. It allowed the trio of systems to not only remain consistent, the wayward Midgardians were less likely to end up in that same, age-old trap of forgetfulness. Not a day went by without someone visiting someone else, and it was that connection, that family, which kept them together. No one wanted to interfere with that.
Clint headed up the hallway, and poked his head through the Stark Tower portal. Through the warbling fluid-like texture, he emerged on the other side, and looked around the living room on Midgard.
"Tony!" he yelled through the seemingly abandoned rooms. "We are eating in twenty minutes whether you show up or not! And you better show up, because I want my cheeseburger, or someone is going to die!"
Pepper flustered around the hall corner, sunhat over her head, sunscreen turning her nose white, and a great, big straw bag hiked up over her shoulder.
"Coming!" she announced, rushing over.
Clint stepped back through the portal, coughing against his arm to get his wind back. He massaged his chest, taking short breaths until he felt himself relax again.
Pepper popped in a second after him. "You will not believe the day we've had! Tony's going to tell you all about it, don't believe a word. He thought we were going to Long Beach, even though I told him Ocean City, he just had his mind set. Then JARVIS didn't want to give him directions to Long Beach, because he knew we were going further south, it was an absolute mess." Pepper took in a great breath, let it out in a mighty sigh, and dropped the bag from her shoulder. She smiled at Clint, opened her arms and wrapped them around his neck. "I missed you!"
"It's been twelve hours, and I poked in and said hi last night right before Tony broke out the extension cord and we all watched Avatar in the hallway with popcorn," Clint reminded her.
"Not the same. Not good enough," Pepper repeated, the same line she stuck to.
"Hi, Pep! Alice is out playing with Flint on the hill if you want Ben to go out. I think that wolf might just die of happiness," Natasha said, cruising up the hall. She picked up the discarded straw bag and peeked inside. Golden delicious apples, a container of Country Time lemonade, and an entire two bags from the Golden Arches. A devious smile spread over her face. Clint knew exactly what to order for a good party.
Pepper flung a hand against her forehead. "Oh, my God! Ben!" She had just about spun on her heel, and went tearing back through the portal when Tony arrived, toddler in hand, and baby bag over his shoulder.
"Someone order a set of baby-back ribs, medium well?" he asked, grinning beneath the cover of his shades.
Pepper gave him a withering look. "I've told you how many times? New jokes, Tony!"
Clint snorted. He reached over and picked up, for all intents and purposes, his nephew. "I still think it's funny."
"That's because both of you have the IQ of your kids," Natasha pointed out.
"A point, I will not argue," Clint replied. He looked critically at Tony's son. "I heard somebody is afraid of a tickle monster . . . could that somebody be you?"
Benjamin's face lit up in utter enthusiasm. Holding nothing back, Clint rushed off down the hall, mauling the little boy's abdomen and declaring that the 'tickle monster' would soon claim his next untimely victim. The sound of the child's laughter radiated throughout the under-hill home. The others followed along at a slower pace to set their wares out on the kitchen table.
"Flint! One boy-baby-Ben for special delivery!" Clint announced.
Just outside, an excited yip split the air, and a spinning, round, wood door pushed inward under the influence of a massive, wet nose. Flint's jet black ears flattened under the wooden pallet as he began to bathe the Stark child in a human-sized tongue. Clint pushed the nose back with one hand, propped the door up with the top of his head, and lifted Ben out into the grassy area just beyond the kitchen window. He let the door swing closed, like a coin rotating on its diameter, and latched it to prevent the children from falling into the kitchen.
Ben wobbled his way across the grass over to Alice. Together, they picked a handful of plastic shovels out of the big outdoor bucket, and began to dig up a few dirt clods. A proud wolf/baby protector laid down a few feet away, and watched for the predators that would never come.
"Don't you love a babysitter you don't have to pay or background check?" Clint asked, turning back to the table. Spying one of the cheeseburgers he snatched it up swiftly before Natasha could steal it away. He skirted over to the sink, attempted to lift himself up on the counter, and failed. Instead he dragged a chair over with his foot, and used it as a stool. He sat contentedly, and munched away. Tony cast a wary gaze in his direction, but said nothing.
"You're telling me!" Pepper said. "I've got a trip to Munich in two weeks, and Tony needs to be in California. I think I've screened forty-five people in the last two days."
Clint lifted his hand, eyes narrowing. "Forget baby-sitter! Pep, just bring Ben here. I can watch him."
Both Natasha and Pepper gave him a long, steady look.
"OK, fine, I promise not to do anything crazy with him, or try to teach him to swim at the age of three, and no excursions after faralirs in Woodrenkell. Good enough?"
Natasha and Pepper's attention turned to each other.
"I'll be here," Natasha said.
"OK, then that'll work."
Clint threw up his hands in defeat. Tony snorted.
Tony looked around the kitchen. "Hey, what gives? No golden boy and Thor?"
"I was so excited about bacon and cheese on a patty of mystery beef, I actually didn't go and see if they were at the door," Clint confessed, taking another, unashamed, chomp out of his burger.
"I'll get them," Pepper said. "Don't want you boys straining a muscle turning a knob or something."
She heaved out of the chair, and headed down the tunnel again as the laughs of the others receded behind her. She traced her hand along the wall tiles until she noticed the one with 'Asgard' written above, and tried the knob.
The little brass hook was set across the top, Clint's idea of child safety locks. Removing it, the door came easily open. All at once, a wobbly two year old wandered through, blowing spit bubbles between pursed lips. Thor strolled in behind the child, his hand attached to the back of the baby's coat should the boy take a face-first spill. He adjusted the strap to a sack of food and drink over his other shoulder, and smiled at Pepper.
"Fair sister! We had begun to think our presence unwelcome!" Thor declared.
"Oh no, don't think that," Pepper said. She offered to take something from him.
"Do not attempt it," Thor said, keeping his items. "They are weighty enough that I have taken them over our captain."
"I said I could carry it," Steve complained, walking in behind Thor. He shifted his own son from his left arm to the right, and drew the portal door shut at his back.
"It is hilarious that you think such things. You might match your strength against mine, my friend, but one round in the Grandstand of Bugrenkrok, and I will best you at once!" Thor replied.
"We did that three weeks ago, and as i remember it, I gave you a black eye!"
Steve leaned forward, planting a kiss on Pepper's cheek. They headed up to the open kitchen. Thor pulled the sack down from his shoulder, and left it by the nearest table leg. He put an arm around Natasha in greeting, while Tony dropped down and snatched up Thor's son.
"Mighty Max!" Tony exclaimed, lifting the boy up and blasting him off like a rocket ship. He spun the boy about around the room, running this way and that as the boy's laughter became infectious. Just outside, the desperate Flint began clawing at the little porthole trap door. He wanted a new ward to watch, like a dragon who hoarded over gold.
Tony's blastoff headed over to Clint, who stole the boy from him. The tickle monster attacked. Thor's son, breathless in utter delight, began to squeal-laugh uncontrollably. When it seemed he could take no more, it was time to join the other Avengers' kids. Clint flicked the lock on the porthole door, and Flint stepped back in excitement. Up, Thor's boy went, and Flint grabbed him by the back of his shirt. He deposited the child in the circle of others, then went bounding back to shove his nose inside and stare longingly at Steve.
"Clint, I think your dog has a problem. It thinks our children are puppies," Steve said, laughing. He passed his own boy around the circle of friends, and up to Flint to play with the other kids.
"Sif didn't come along?" Natasha asked, unpacking Thor and Steve's items.
Steve shrugged. "Little lady's off slaying Frost Giants in Muspelheim. Thinks she might be back sometime next month, but I'm not allowed to get my hopes up." He shrugged. "She carried James Erling Rogers for a full nine months, and don't you think she'd ever let me forget that."
Clint shook his head. "Should have just done what I did. You know, been dead for the whole time. Avoids a lot of that hormonal stuff."
Tony punched him. Clint scrunched his face at him and held his arm.
Pepper looked at Thor. "What about Magni?"
"Mighty Max," Tony corrected. When the others looked at him, he shrugged. "I just think it sounds less girly, especially with a dad who has long, flowing, blond locks. Might give the kid a complex."
Thor ignored him. "Jane is still finding her feet. Fandral is not making it very easy on her. I believe my friend means well in their teasing, though she does not quite understand his humor."
"It's hard adjusting to another realm. If she needs to come by, she's welcome whenever. I'm heading into the Wild South next month, but Clint doesn't go back to Lakeheed for another two," Natasha said. She extracted an ubiquitous jug from the bottom of the sack, and leveled a glare toward the two Asgardian boys. "Is this what I think it is?"
"In fact, you are wrong," Thor said, taking it and removing the cork. He passed the jug back for her to smell. "A blend of Vanaheim fluh, Joten ice, strained over Muspelheim coals. As innocuous as the juice of an orange, yet the kick of swallowing a stick lit on fire."
Clint leaned in to look. "I'm not gonna have to confiscate your keys after this party, am I, guys?"
"Thor's right. It has about as much alcohol as grape juice, but that's not what it tastes like," Steve said. Spying one of the stack of burgers, he snatched it up in overwhelmed excitement.
Noticing he might be one burger less, Clint rushed over and grabbed Steve from behind. The two wrestled around the kitchen at the others' enjoyment. In the window beyond them, Flint's head lifted to stare into the window and observe them. Noting nothing amiss, he settled again as official Avengers' nanny. Clint soon let go, knowing he wasn't going to get the upper hand, and preferring not to injure himself in the process.
"Fel lesali! Hallo, Rellya!"
Clint jogged to the other end of the hill home. He grabbed the handle of another porthole, and shoved the window outward. "Fel lesali, Rinon! We're down in under-hill."
Deep in the upper home, a solid, Woodrenkell door pushed inward under the hand of the recrowned Alfheimr king. He stepped back, letting the three excited wolves with him thunder down the spiral staircase to the under-hill side. Clint crouched down, spreading his arms wide while the three of them collided with him. The others stepped into the hall, and watched the pile of fur maul all over him. Excited yips, coos, and barks echoed in the under-hill halls. Clint struggled up under their excitement, and stumbled back toward the basement stairs nearest him. He climbed them first, lifted the doorway, and all at once, Laice and her two pups, the smaller Valya and the larger Nian, joined Flint in the child's play field. They jumped and howled together before circling up around the kids.
Clint patted the fur off his arms, and greeted Rinon who finally arrived from the upper home. They clasped arms. "Welcome, kinme, I wasn't sure you'd get away."
Rinon shrugged. It was a peculiar motion on him, but one he had picked up from his continuous company with the Midgardians he enjoyed. "It is not so difficult. Have you been waiting upon me?"
"Actually, Bruce is the last one to show. Go figure." Clint offered to take his pack, which Rinon handed over.
"I will join in a moment, let me see after friend Banner." Rinon pulled open the Midgard door, leading to Bruce's home, and disappeared inside.
Clint set Rinon's things out on the table. Everyone pressed in to see.
"If he brought those little chewy, fruity, candy things, I might just take the whole thing and run away before Bruce shows up," Steve said. Finding the exact delicacy he hoped for, he lifted the entire tray with an exclamation. He pressed the parcel against his chest and closed his eyes. "I am so happy."
"Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late. I had this student freaking out about his grade, and I seriously considered Hulk-ing out for no reason at all just to get away from him," Bruce announced his presence, tumbling into the kitchen under a great flutter of movement. One bag went to Steve, another hit the table, an apple broke away from the others, and spiraled across the floor to Natasha's feet. Behind him, Rinon held a platter of fresh cut vegetables, and a center of ranch dip.
"I will be completely honest, no cooking was performed by me or anyone I could bribe. Everything you see, was graciously provided by my VISA card and Betty's trip to Shop-Rite."
Pepper shook her head, tsk-ing at him. "Someone dropped the BBQ ball. Bruce, you disappoint us all. I think we may vote you out of the club."
"Hey, I did remember to bring coffee!" He hiked a thumb over his shoulder to the cardboard container Rinon lifted.
"Forgiven. Repealed. Whatever you want, just give me coffee!" Clint exclaimed, snatching the carton and running, carefully, over to the cupboard with it.
"What happened to the kids?" Bruce looked around the floor.
"Outside with the nanny-brigade," Pepper smiled.
He glanced up to the window, and squinted through his glasses to see the ring of dirt-digging children surrounded by the four dire wolves. "Ah, should have guessed. Is that the brother and sister, Clint? Flint's litter mates, right?"
"They are, indeed," Rinon told him.
"They didn't pick anyone in particular yet?"
"Valya has," Natasha said. "She's just here for a visit. Nian is still on the hunt."
"Can I, again, point out how hilarious it is that Natasha now has to live with Flint and Clint. How did that even happen?" Tony stole one of the tea-crisps from Rinon's wares, and popped it into his mouth.
"Because flint was the main material of arrowheads," Clint said. He, with his coffee in hand, returned to the others, who began to settle around their normal spots at the table. Tony picked the singular chair on the far right head of the table, so he might enjoy having Pepper on one side and Clint on the other. Clint sat across from the outdoor portholes, giving him ample view of the playing children, and Natasha slid in beside him and Steve. Rinon took up the opposite table end, Thor being on his left and Steve on the right. Bruce sat between Thor and Pepper.
The table had once adorned the great hall in Asgard, though it had been scaled down (by way of band saw) to fit inside Clint's home. As such, its width was grand enough to supply space for all of their multi-realm eats, every dish and utensil imaginable, five squat glass jars filled with colored stones and the flowers Alice collected from the valley below them, and still there was room to spare. Once, a full eighteen people had sat around it during a particularly large party.
Settling in, passing food, and catching up on conversation, was a particular delight every last Friday of the month. Of course, those were only the scheduled gatherings. Clint couldn't think of a day he went by without entertaining one friend or another. Once, long ago, he thought that sort of life might never appeal to him. Now, he was right where he wanted to be.
:(:):(:):
"Remind me, the next time I want to eat fifteen pieces of Atlantic City fudge, drink four cups of coffee, and then steal some of Steve's candy...to steal Steve's candy first." Clint moaned, wincing as he bent over at the waist.
"Agreed, if you promise to never let Natasha boil eggs. Like, ever." Tony leaned on the rail to the garden walk. After a time, he got tired of leaning, and lifted himself up onto the large, flat top of elven carved wood.
Clint looked over, smiling. "Yeah, I know better. But, she wanted to try it."
"How did we end up with women that can't cook?"
"'Cause we ended up with women who are smart enough to get men who could?"
Tony deliberated that, and nodded. Clint had a valid point in that regard. Across the yard and down the glen, in the depressed cove behind the under-hill house, Steve and Thor were playing tag with the toddlers. Just away from them, Natasha and Pepper both distracted the non-sure-footed 'Max' and James from the worm both had desperately attempted to eat.
Rinon kept a safe distance from the children, and instead sat amongst the wolves. He was the first one to point out his lack of experience when it came to any offspring, and occasionally thanked the stars he had none. Bruce stayed beside him for company. It had been three years since he'd suffered in the caverns of Nova Luna, and still he had not fully recovered. Clint could see the pain hit Rinon occasionally, the same way it got to him. Old wounds, long scars, and battles hard fought connected them forever.
"She talking yet?" Tony asked, watching Alice trail after Thor.
"I thought she said 'ma' the other day, but Natasha didn't agree. How many words is Ben up to?"
"He said, 'Dad, I want doggy.' to me the other day. I didn't tell Pepper, she might have actually bought one. I think he really meant he wanted to come here and play with the doggy, but, you know, he's only three." Tony considered the low contents of his mug, and whether or not he'd brave another splash of the Asgardian non-alcoholic jungle ale. For now, he set it beside him. "What does Bruce say?"
Clint shrugged. "Tasha took her in to see the hearing specialist, and they said she isn't deaf. We had three or four pediatricians look at her last week, Pepper recommended a few of them and did a lot of the groundwork, but you know I always trust Bruce and you over that."
Tony nodded. He knew.
"Everyone cleared her. No auditory dysfunctions, no brain miscommunication. She just doesn't talk. It's weird, though, too. You've seen me and her together. I'm so used to handling Flint, that we know what each other's thinking without even saying anything. Well, it's kinda the same with her. Everyone knows she was a hypoxia baby, and I think they all just assumed she'd grow out of it."
"And she hasn't."
Clint glanced over shaking his head. "No. I mean, I know sign language. All of us do. So we've been debating over just doing that full time. But I'd like her to talk too. I guess we're just still trying to figure all this parenting stuff out."
"I think they wrote a manual for that."
The corners of Clint's lips upturned, and he picked up Tony's glass. Drinking the last of the contents, he sat it back down and winced again. He straightened and stretched, running a hand along the old, healed scars over his chest.
"Pain?" Tony asked.
"Only in winter, and if I do too much," Clint replied. "It's really not bad, not like that first year. God, I never want to face that again. It's worse when I decide to do a mad dash through the Tower or something on a whim. The breathing's a little better, not much, but I can only ever make it to the second elevator before my chest starts to bleed or my legs go numb."
Tony looked away. He didn't exactly approve of Clint's occasional detraction from reality that made him perform the silly stunts. Then again, if he was in Clint's position, he might do the same thing, just for a bit of fun now and again.
"How far on Asgard?"
"All the way to Hengrel's Cuff."
"And back?!"
Clint snorted, shaking his head. "Nope. Actually, Steve showed up and saw me. I think I gave the guy a heart attack. Then I started coughing up blood, and I really did give him a heart attack. I've never seen Cap sprint so fast in my life, carrying me over his shoulder. Natasha smacked me."
"Rinon any better?"
Slowly, Clint shook his head. "They don't think he ever will be. Maybe one day, but we'll all be dead by then. Fehreh's taken over much of the ruling to keep him free. He can't ride the faralirs or wolves anymore. It's too much for him. Bringing that bag in, I was worried he'd pulled something, but he seems to be moving all right. How's Bruce doing?"
Tony sighed, shrugging. "I don't know. I want him to talk about it, but he's been avoiding the subject."
"How many people are sick?"
Tony didn't reply at first, gauging how much he wanted to share. The move was as telltale, as being forthright would have been. Clint knew him well enough to interpret his silence just as easily as if he'd spoken.
"That many," Clint said, shaking his head. "I thought they had a handle on it. The virus, I mean. Bruce was so hopeful with the vaccine."
"I know. Viruses change. Shift, apparently, and most of the people, it did work for, but there's a quarter of the population infected. Took three years to span the space between Xandar and us."
"If you want to stay here for a while with Pep and Ben, just come. I don't want to see something happen to you."
Tony nodded. He'd already considered it. Betty Ross' husband was dead. Bruce worked unendingly for the past weeks trying to save the man to no avail. There she was, a widow with twin toddlers, and absolutely nothing to her name. Her husband's research had been confiscated, their accounts frozen until the government decided what they did and did not need from his personal work on the Universal Influenza Complex-2. Clint siphoned a few million dollars into a private account for Bruce to freely give to the woman. It was the least anyone could do.
"Maybe for a while," Tony said. "New York's pretty hot right now. We've been spending a lot of time in Jersey, down the shore. Pepper's worried. She knows Alfheimr is always safe."
Tony folded his arms. He spun around on the railing to face the family and friends all enjoying the last few weeks of Alfheimr spring. It was summer back on Midgard, and a wicked hot one, too. Tony didn't mind spending more time here than his air-conditioned, fumigated tower back home. Besides, his favorite family was here too. They weren't perfect, but then again they never were, and that was exactly what he liked about it.
"How'd we ever get this lucky?" Tony wondered aloud to himself, watching them all.
Clint climbed the railing beside him, and plopped down. "Well, you know, there's a funny story about that. I think it started somewhere down in Mexico, a little while after the battle of New York."
AHHHHHHHH... I just LOVE THEM!
Ok, let's sum it up: Yes, Clint can (sort of) never go home. But has he really lost anything? Natasha/Clint love? Too much. I just can't get enough. Alice and all the kids? Ben, Magni, and James? What's a girl gonna do with all that testosterone when she grows up? Well, as a daughter of Natasha, probably kick all their butts. Steve/Sif and Thor/Jane fighting it out on Asgard. Bruce maybe rekindling an old flame with Betty? He is ever the rebound! And FLINT! I know Arrow's death hit so hard, but it is so wonderful to see Clint have that love once more that he had lost.
Never Perfect, but good enough. That's how I like it.
Please review! WARNING::: The Epilogue is coming up next, and if you have read my work in the past, you know it can change everything! In Where the Worlds Burn, I revealed Clint as an old man going blind. In Sacrifice Worth Living, He had joined the heroes together to fight the Galactus War. What could POSSIBLY HAPPEN NOW?!