Prompt picture submitted by nathyfaith, in response to a headcanon I shared with her. The said headcanon is incorporated to the story

Of Families Found

Grant is standing on the porch of the Barton house, elbows resting on the railing as he watches Haylie and Nate run along the meadow, chasing each other and, when they feel like it, picking flowers and placing them in the basket Laura gave them with surprising care. He lets out a sigh – Haylie is turning three in just two weeks, she's already her own little person, stubborn and lovely just like her mother, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around how quickly time flies.

"It feels like if you closed your eyes for a moment, she'd grow up by the time you opened them again, right?" Grant hears Clint's calm, confident voice from behind him as the older man approaches him. "I was the same way with all three of them."

"I don't even have to close my eyes – it already feels like she's growing too fast," he smiles as he takes the bottle of cold beer offered to him.

"Thank God you've already taken care of the next one, in case you feel like you've missed something," Clint says in a teasing tone, pointing towards the kitchen where the girls are cooing over the seven month old Ada, prompting a chuckle from Grant. "Truth to be told, kid, I think you are faring a lot better with this one with the first."

That Grant can agree with – his whole relationship with Clint Barton, and subsequently with his whole family, started when a mission brought them together not long after they'd found out that Skye was pregnant with Haylie. There's no point in denying things: he was freaking out, freaking out bad, and Clint picked up on it. So he drew him to the back of the quinjet, and gave him a heartfelt, if somewhat corny, motivational speech about fatherhood and how everybody screws up a little. It not only managed to calm him down and let him approach his newest challenge with a clearer head, but ever since then Clint had become his to-go guy in every fatherhood related question, and despite of having no relation, his kids are growing up knowing the Barton children as cousins.

"I'm learning," Grant says with a little shrug, taking a sip from the beer. "By the time the next one comes along, I'll be a pro."

Clint lets out a laugh.

"You want more kids?"

Grant tries not to smile like a goofball he is at Clint's question, but doesn't really succeed.

"I love the girls to bits, and I wouldn't mind having more of them."

"And Skye?"

"I haven't discussed it with her yet," he admits, turning a bit away from Clint, and hiding his smirk with the bottle. "But it was actually her who brought up trying for a second baby first, so…"

Clint just nods at that, sipping his beer leisurely, while silently thinking about how far his friend has gotten from the scared young man he first met, who was so damn sure that he was not cut out to be a father that he was ready to have a panic attack right before their mission. And, honestly, Clint is rather proud of him.

But before he could voice that, their conversation is interrupted by Haylie, who runs to her father with tears in her eyes. The girl is still only about halfway to them, when Grant has already put down his drink, and is rushing towards his daughter. Clint watches from the distance as he picks Haylie up, propping her on his hip, then has a short, quiet conversation with her, which ends with him pressing a kiss against the girl's little hand.

"Nettle rash," Grant announces when he gets back to the porch. "Do you…?"

"There should be something for it in the bathroom," Clint nods, turning towards the meadow for a moment to see Nate walking back towards to house as well, basket of flowers in his hand. "Just ask Laura."

"Thanks," Grant tells him, stepping into the house, still consoling the teary eyed little girl with a level of gentleness one would never expect from a specialist. Clint just can't keep himself from smiling.

So much for not being cut out to be a father.