Chapter 2: The Return of Magneto

Clint hadn't slept well that night, because he was replaying and replaying and replaying the way things had gone with Gail. Somehow, he hadn't even managed to ask her if that was her name or if that was the hero name she wanted to go by. He hadn't managed to do anything but play pool. Like that was in any way a good way to flirt.

So, he slept in and then woke up startled, convinced he had missed his alarm before he remembered that it was, in fact, Saturday. He didn't have any classes to miss.

Which was a good thing, because his mind was so not on schoolwork.

He stretched and yawned and grabbed some deodorant before he made his way down to the kitchen for an embarrassingly late breakfast. Everyone else was already up and about, but he saw more than a few teachers making the rounds of the school with more tension than usual, like they were waiting for something…

Oh, right. He'd been so focused on Gail that he'd totally forgotten that Charles was going to meet up with his chess buddy again.

At least this time, they were being more careful about things. More discreet. That probably had something to do with the way Clint's mom had absolutely read Charles to filth for inviting supervillains over in a house full of children. And even if she and Clint had warmed up to him after he'd killed Sinister and rescued them, that didn't make the point any less potent.

But they were meeting up on the grounds, not at the school itself. And some of the teachers were going to make sure curious students didn't get too close. And Scott still looked like he was going to have a stroke right there in front of everyone for how stressed he was.

Yeah, Clint wanted to check on whatever was going on — not just because he still wanted to be useful and to remind the team that he could help even without a uniform but because Scott was one of the few people who he trusted who wasn't part of his adoptive family, and he wanted him and his family to be okay too.

So, out the door he went, bagel in hand, to catch up to him.

"Everything okay?" he called out to get Scott's attention before he could quite catch up.

Scott stopped and then, when he saw Clint approaching, waited for him before they moved on together. "Just making sure everything stays okay."

"Yeah, Mom's been rolling her eyes at Charles all morning."

"He's noticed."

"He's not changing that much, even if he's noticed," Clint pointed out, which had Scott smirking and shaking his head.

"I don't think there's much that could make the professor change his mind when it comes to his oldest friend," Scott said diplomatically.

"Right, because of how much he loves him," Clint said, nodding seriously.

"Yes, they've known each other for-"

"No, that's not what I meant," Clint said, and Scott got it so suddenly that he came to a hard stop, and Clint nearly ran into him.

"Does your mom say the same thing?" Scott asked. Clint couldn't read his expression because of his glasses, but there was something at the corner of his mouth that was either annoyance or the start of a smile, depending on what his eyes were doing.

Clint wasn't sure what to do with that, but he figured honesty was the best policy, right? So, he shrugged easily. "I mean, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? Mom says it's a shame they were born when they were or they wouldn't have had to hide their whole lives."

Scott looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to smile or stand there in shock, so his expression got stuck somewhere between the two options. "Your mom says a lot of things," he said at last, mildly.

Clint shrugged again. "Yeah, but you know she knows things, right? And so does my dad?"

"Your dad has never mentioned anything like that."

"Dad was here for a lot longer than Mom was," Clint said.

Scott let out his breath and then apparently decided he wasn't going to argue, because he turned sharply on his heel and kept walking in the same direction he'd been headed before. "Okay, Clint."

Clint watched Scott for a second before he rushed to catch up again. "Want me to help you look out for trouble? You know nothing gets past Hawkeye," he said, puffing himself up.

Scott couldn't hide his chuckle, especially because Clint was always so thrilled to bring up his codename. "Sure."

Clint grinned and fell into step with him, recognizing immediately the pattern he was walking. He had seen that one in the Danger Room — when they were supposed to be practicing looking for threats.

But for as much as Clint agreed that they needed to watch out for supervillains too close to their family, for as much as he didn't trust Magneto not to be dramatic… the guy had killed Sinister. He had saved his life. He had ended a menace to so many people. And yeah, he'd had lots of long talks with both of his parents about how he didn't owe anyone for rescues, especially if the rescuer wasn't on the side of the angels, but that didn't mean he wasn't reconsidering how he looked at Magneto.

He'd still put a wooden stake in him if he threw his mom again, of course. But he was, frustratingly, starting to get why Charles couldn't bring himself to just banish the guy. There was enough of a glimmer of a good guy somewhere in there that if they were already friends (or more than that), it made sense.

But Clint stood by his mother's distrust, so he broke off from Scott so they were covering more ground. They were mostly looking for any of Magneto's followers, anyway.

Luckily, he didn't see anybody awful. But he did see Charles and Erik walking out, talking easily, smiling more than Clint saw either of them smile most days. And that really just told him that his mom was so ridiculously right.

And he couldn't resist saying something about it.

"Hey, professor!" he called out, practically skipping over. By that point, he was tall enough to match the eyeline of a few adult heroes, but he didn't mind playing into how young he still was by their standards for as long as he could make that last. "Who won?"

Charles chuckled. "I'm afraid we had to pause the game. Something came up — a young mutant in trouble." Almost on cue, Clint saw Scott running back to the house with his game face on.

"Can't be too intense. You're smiling too much," Clint pointed out, figuring that if the mission was important, calling Charles out on the smile might be fun, and if it wasn't, they'd both keep their good moods enough for Clint to probe around the edges of whatever the heck was going on.

"Thankfully, it's nothing like we sometimes see, but I have asked Scott to get to her quickly before it does escalate," Charles said, his smile changing from what he'd been directing Erik's way into the usual serene smile he gave everyone else.

"Makes sense." Clint looked toward Erik, who looked like he was headed to leave. And, well, he wouldn't get a chance to say anything for a long time if he didn't speak up in that moment, considering how long the two of them seemed to go between chess appointments. So, he cleared his throat and turned his whole body toward Erik. "I never really got to say thank you, by the way. For the fact that me and my little siblings and Scott's kids and everybody aren't going to be stuck with that ghoul following us around for the rest of our lives."

Erik stood up straighter when he realized what Clint was saying, and his expression softened as he looked over Clint and nodded. "Believe me, young man: I have wanted to end him far longer than any of you have lived."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I'm not grateful."

Erik smiled lightly. "I appreciate that."

Before he could say anything else, though, Clint figured he had the guy softened up enough to say, "But just so you know, if you break Professor Xavier's heart, you're gonna have hell to pay."

Both Charles and Erik stopped and turned toward Clint, similar looks of disbelief on their faces. "I assure you," Erik started to say.

"Clint," Charles started to say at the same time.

Clint broke into a crooked grin. "That's okay. I won't tell," he said — and skipped off again, still grinning to himself.

"You're in a good mood."

Clint nearly startled out of his skin when he heard the familiar voice. He'd just been mentally congratulating himself for getting both Charles and Erik with his teasing, and he hadn't expected to walk nearly into his crush the second he got back into the school. But there she was, smiling at him in a way that made it hard to remember why he was in a good mood so he could actually have a conversation with her.

Why did his brain turn off around pretty girls? What was wrong with him?

"Yeah," he managed to say at last, which wasn't much, but it was at least better than standing there like an idiot.

Gail smiled, blushing pink. "Any particular reason?" she asked, and it occurred to Clint that she might have ulterior motives for asking, but he couldn't for the life of him make his brain connect the dots the rest of the way to tell him what was going on.

"Oh, um. Just talking with Scott, I guess," Clint said. Why couldn't he just say that he'd had some good zingers and was proud of them? That sounded way cooler than talking to a teacher!

"Right. You're going out for the team soon, aren't you?"

Clint blinked and blushed. "Yeah, I know I bring that up too much…"

"Literally everyone here does. I'm still debating whether or not to use 'Gale' as my X-Men name when it could mess up having a secret identity. Everyone dreams about wearing the patch. It's not as weird as you think it is."

"Yeah." Clint rubbed the back of his neck and realized, belatedly, that she had just cleared up for him what her name was. So that was something, at least.

"I figured you'd be more disappointed," Gail said.

Clint's head came up fast. He was sure he was missing context clues. "Why?"

"Well, weren't you asking him about the team? I know they just left…"

"Oh." He smiled quickly and shook his head. "No, I'm okay, actually. We kinda worked things out a while back so I could get some training without being on the team yet. Mostly because of my parents, you know?"

"Must be nice," Gail said, holding her arms at the elbows.

Clint held both hands up quickly. "No — I mean, not like that," he said, somehow turning redder. "It's not a favoritism thing. Is that what people think?"

"It kind of looks that way," she admitted softly.

Clint dragged his hand down his face. "Ugh. Try and fit in at school with that hanging around your neck. Like middle school isn't hell enough."

Gail laughed at that and then covered her mouth, as if she hadn't been expecting to laugh. "Tell me about it."

He grinned, delighted by his success, and added, "For the record, it's more a safety issue than a favoritism issue. If you could help me squash the rumors, that would be great, actually."

"How is it a safety issue?" Gail asked, wrinkling her nose at him.

And that was about when Clint realized that Gail just didn't know. She hadn't been around for the missions where things had gone horribly wrong as the team desperately tried to get a young Clint away from Sinister or the Department or Victor Creed. She'd been there when the thing with the Hulk had happened, but most of the school didn't know the whole story anyway because it had been weird and it had mostly been the Avengers batting cleanup. Most of the focus had been on the fact that Scott and Captain America had been weird around each other for a while after the whole telepathic takeover incident.

And how much did Clint really want to tell her? He didn't want to spread around his parent's misfortune, for one thing. And he knew they didn't like people knowing what they'd been forced to do. But the truth was that he did have weapons programs after him in a more tangible way than other people did, and he couldn't ignore that.

Especially if he wanted to date her.

Yeah, he was getting ahead of himself. He could think about whether or not dating was more dangerous because he had people after him once he figured out how to date.

"Do you have a minute?" Clint asked at last, gesturing for her to walk with him - if she wanted to.

Gail smiled at him and nodded, even taking his arm, which made Clint feel warm all the way down to his toes. "Is it a long story?"

"Very."

"Then I can't wait to hear it."

Clint almost told her that it wasn't that kind of story, that it probably wasn't enjoyable to listen to, but then, he realized that she was blushing a brilliant red.

Oh.

She was flirting with him.

He smiled and tried to ignore how red he was as well as they headed out together and he tried to tell her as much as he figured he could share without sounding melodramatic or giving away weird family secrets.