Chapter 14: "I Get It Now"

It had been a few weeks since what had happened with Ross and the department, so Clint knew that the grace period of time he'd bought himself before someone came to "check on him" was fast running out. Everyone had given his family time to recover from K's loss of memory, and then on top of that, Barney had been pretty badly shaken up, and K had taken them out camping for a weekend.

But now, Clint was sitting at the dining room table, a few bites away from finishing his breakfast, keenly aware of the fact that Scott was watching him and clearly waiting for him to finish eating before he said anything.

Clint met Scott's gaze and then pointedly shoveled two bites worth of food into one bite, then got to his feet and took his dishes to the sink, knowing Scott was probably going to follow him.

And he did — and then jerked his chin to the side to indicate to Clint that he should follow him.

Clint knew this talk was coming, so he didn't say anything as he headed down the hall with Scott — though he did pause and raise both eyebrows when they didn't go somewhere casual like the living room but actually went to Scott's office.

So this was a talk talk.

Clint was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet as he walked with Scott. He wasn't sure now what this talk was going to be, because it felt official. And Scott had agreed to let him train with the teams, but what if he was rescinding that offer?

He'd spun up a dozen different possibilities in his head by the time the door closed behind him in Scott's office, but Scott didn't get behind the desk or anything. Instead, he stopped in front of Clint and put a hand on his shoulder to look him in the eyes.

"How are you holding up — really?" Scott asked.

And Clint could have lied to him. He knew he was okay at it now, because he had so much practice lying to bad guys. But he also knew that Scott knew everything Jean knew, and he knew that Jean had to at least suspect some things, even if she couldn't peek into his head as easily as she used to be able to before he had healing powers.

"What did Jean tell you?" Clint asked rather than answering the question. And it wasn't just for his own benefit, either. Sure, he would rather keep his emotional secrets, but he also knew that what he'd experienced, what he'd seen when he died… that might give Scott some insight into Logan and K, too. Clint hadn't missed that, even memoryless, K had given Clint more attention and care once she'd heard how badly he'd been hurt. And not all of that was just because of the phantom pain.

And, yeah, Clint was a Hawkeye, but he knew Scott was pretty good at spotting things too. Especially for people he cared about. And since Jean had more or less decided Clint was part of the family from day one, Clint knew Scott cared about his family. All of them.

Scott, for his part, blew all his breath out in a whoosh and ran his hand through his hair — both actions that told Clint that, yes, he was right to suspect that Scott had more of an idea of what was bugging Clint than he was letting on. "I know you're doing better now that your mom remembers who you are," Scott said first. And that was telling too. It meant he wanted to build Clint up first before he got to what was really bugging him.

Which was nice and all, but Clint would rather rip the bandaid off.

"Did she tell you about what happened when I stopped breathing?" Clint asked bluntly — and when Scott straightened up quickly, he knew he was on the right track.

"She doesn't know all the details, but she does know that you were reliving some loss when you came back," Scott said carefully.

"Yeah." Clint kicked one foot against the other and then gestured vaguely toward the desk and the chairs that sat in front of it. "Should we sit down or something? I'm not sure where this falls on the scale of X-Men discussions."

"I"m not sure either," Scott said with a wry smile. "It's not like everyone comes back from the dead on our team—"

"—but enough people do that it's kinda normal, huh?" Clint finished for him.

Scott sighed and then ran his hand down his face. "I wish it wasn't."

"Me too. It's not fun, and I don't recommend it." Clint kicked his foot again and then cleared his throat. "I asked Mom about it, you know. After she remembered me."

Scott did a horrible job of acting like he wasn't as interested as he was. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Clint thought about not elaborating, like Logan would do, but he also knew that Scott wouldn't have called him in there without a reason. So, he cleared his throat again and said, "She said it's normal. But she wasn't happy about the fact that those guys literally killed me. That's what happened, you know. I stopped breathing. And I healed, but that doesn't mean I wasn't dead for a minute there."

Scott let out a soft sound and reached out to rest his hand on Clint's arm, though Clint pulled back, leaving the two of them sitting in silence for longer than either of them was entirely comfortable with.

Finally, Clint cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said slowly, "I guess, um, dying has some repercussions. Mom's not sure about it, either; she said she tends to remember loss and other things too. We're not sure what happens. Maybe it's our life flashing in front of our eyes again or…" He trailed off, unwilling to say the rest out loud, because he didn't know what he'd do if K's theory that he might have actually been with his mom was true.

But Scott could figure out the rest of it, even if Clint didn't say it out loud. And without a word, he simply opened his arms in an invitation to Clint to fall into a hug — if he wanted it.

And Clint was old enough by that point that, usually, he wouldn't take a hug from someone who wasn't his mom or dad. Not when it was anything but a quick moment of affection. He was starting to get to the point where he didn't want people to treat him like a scared kid even when he was a scared kid. He always had wanted to be taken seriously, but there was something about being eleven that made that urge even more pronounced than usual.

But this time? This time, none of that mattered. Not when the topic was that sensitive. And so, he all but fell into the hug, clutching on tight.

They stayed there for a long time before, eventually, quietly, Clint cleared his throat and straightened up. "So, um, I get it now."

Scott frowned, moving back enough to give Clint space but obviously still close enough to be there if Clint needed him again. "Get what?" he asked with a frown.

Clint gestured outward with both hands, red-faced, though he was embarrassed to admit it out loud. Still, with Scott sitting there and watching him so intently, he finally cleared his throat again. "I get, you know, why I have to wait."

"Oh?"

Clint nodded, holding onto his arms. "This is… this is a lot," he said, slowly, quietly. "And I don't… I don't think I'm ready to … I don't want to have to do that again. Dying, I mean."

Scott let both of his shoulders drop before he reached out to put his hand on Clint's shoulder to get his attention. "Even when you join the team, we're going to do everything we can to keep that from ever happening." He smiled grimly. "I try my damnedest to keep your parents from having to go through that too. And I'm sorry that we haven't been able to keep you as safe as you deserve to be," he added, and Clint could swear he heard Scott's voice crack.

And, well, Clint didn't want Scott to cry — not over him — so he just gave Scott a tight hug until it seemed like they were both going to be okay to let go.

The next time Clint and his family went to Avengers Tower, he knew that Steve was going to come check on him — and that conversation went just about as well as the one with Scott had gone — but he also made it a point to seek out Bruce. Or at least ask Tony where he'd be.

Which was how he ended up outside of Bruce's lab, biting his lip and bouncing on his toes as he tried to figure out what he could even say after everything that had happened lately.

He had raised his hand to knock on the door about a billion times, but he kept lowering it again. He wanted so badly to make sure that Bruce was okay, but he was, weirdly, better at dealing with the Hulk than with Bruce.

He was just about to try knocking again when the door swung open, and Bruce stood there, one eyebrow raised, his arms crossed as he looked down at Clint.

"Hi," Clint said, kicking one foot behind his ankle.

"Hi," Bruce said, his eyebrow still raised, obviously waiting for an explanation.

"Hey, so, um, I wanted to check on you," Clint said, feeling his cheeks burning red. "You know, after everything that happened. And, um, ask if the Hulk was okay too, if that's okay to ask you. I don't really know if it is, but he was hurt, and I want him to be okay, you know?"

Bruce's disbelief turned into a quiet smile, and he stepped back to let Clint in, shutting the door behind them so that they could speak in private. "We're both okay, thanks for asking," he said as he showed Clint to a couch that looked like he had probably slept on it a few times even though he had his own room in the tower that he could have used instead of sleeping in the lab.

But then, Clint had seen his parents fall asleep in weird places, and he'd seen Scott asleep at his office, so maybe he had just managed to find himself in a group of people who didn't know how to stop until they had to.

He'd picked up that habit, too. That was kind of what had gotten him into this mess.

"How are you?" Bruce asked as he came to sit down on the couch as well, putting himself on the far end so that he and Clint had plenty of space between them even though they were on the same couch. He didn't look like he knew what to do with himself around Clint.

And Clint honestly couldn't blame him. This was all a bit… weird.

"I'm okay," Clint said, belatedly answering Bruce's question.

Bruce scoffed into a chuckle and shook his head. "Well, now that we've both lied to each other…"

Clint let his shoulders drop, relieved when the tension between them broke. "I guess I mean I'm trying to be okay, huh?"

"Me too," Bruce agreed, his smile more genuine now. He gestured toward Clint with one hand. "Did the, ah, buzzing stop?"

Clint nodded quickly. "Yeah, that doesn't last long after I'm done healing — usually."

"Usually." Bruce raised both eyebrows significantly, and Clint cleared his throat.

"Yeah, well, I've never been that badly hurt before," Clint admitted. "And … I kind of wanted to apologize about that part."

Bruce was already shaking his head before Clint could even finish his sentence. "Apologize for being hurt? Don't. It wasn't your fault."

"It kind of was," Clint argued. "If they hadn't seen me playing with the Hulk—"

"No," Bruce said firmly. "Don't apologize for being a kid. You have every right to be reckless and make mistakes. You're a kid. That's what you're supposed to do."

"I don't think making friends with the Hulk was a mistake," Clint clarified. "I actually like the guy. I just think it was a bad move to do it openly where the guy who's obsessed with taking you down was around to see it." He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out again. "I… I'm learning that I have a lot to learn, and I'm trying to do right by the people who got hurt."

Bruce sighed and then reached over to rest his hand on Clint's arm. "Clint," he said softly, "I'm not mad at you."

"I know," Clint said. "But you got hurt, so I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Bruce watched Clint for a long time, but he must have realized that Clint wouldn't be deterred. As strange as it was, Clint was trying to take responsibility, and he was dealing with the trauma he'd been through by trying to take all of it on himself in a preteenager's understanding of the word "responsibility."

"I'm sorry too," Bruce said.

Clint pressed his mouth into a smile and then shifted nervously until he finally stood up and cleared his throat. "So, ah, is it okay if I stay friends with the Hulk? I do actually like him."

Bruce's smile seemed more genuine as he nodded. "We'd both like that, honestly," he said. "You can probably imagine he doesn't have many friends."

"Which is weird, because he's easy to get along with."

"I think it's the other way around, and you just get along with everyone, but sure," Bruce said, smiling as he stood up to mirror Clint. The awkwardness between them was gone as Bruce walked with him over to the door, where they both paused. "Thanks, by the way."

Clint wrinkled his nose. "Um… you're welcome? What did I do?"

"I'm glad you came to check on me. I was worried about you too."

"You don't have to do that," Clint promised. "I'm always okay."

Bruce gave him a tired smile. "And I've known far too many people in my life who use that exact phrase to think it means anything but that you've gotten used to being hurt. And that's not okay, either."

"Yeah, I guess." Clint shrugged both shoulders and then gestured to the door. "So, um, see you around?"

"See you around," Bruce agreed, letting Clint out again, though he paused before he would have closed the door. "And Clint?"

Clint spun around. "Yeah?"

Bruce smiled. "I think you're going to be a great Avenger."

At that, Clint broke into a huge grin and gave Bruce a two-fingered salute as he backed down the hall. "One day," he agreed — and then spun on his heel, his head held higher than before.

A/N: This is the last chapter of this volume! Keep your eyes peeled for the next edition in this universe: "Clint's Guide to Flirting"!