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“You’re getting your degree.” Clint sounded almost uncharacteristically stern about it but they’d had an agreement. “You cleared to head home?” The question was general, and he carefully shifted out from his spot to go bother the kid.

“C’mon, get up. We’re gonna go home.” The kid still seemed suspicious, which honestly was pretty fair of him. He didn’t know these people very well but still felt like they were better than the lab. Clint offered the kid a hand and Ezra took it reluctantly to hoist him up from where he’d been eyeing everyone and everything. “You ever have mac and cheese? Probably the only thing I can reliably cook.”

“ I know, dad, ” Isleif muttered, sitting upright. She still had a few years to go before deciding on a college or degree, and the idea of such was currently taking too much brain power. With a put-upon groan she stood up, holding onto Natasha slightly as she regained balance on newborn-foal legs. 

“ ‘m fine, I’m fine. Let’s go get mac ‘n cheese. ”

She waved at the new kid, “ It may be the only thing he can cook, but it’s really, really gut. ” She frowned, pursing her lips. “ Góður? ” She looked at Natasha with pleading eyes. “ Yum? ” 

“Really? You’d think a literal fly on the wall would be helpful.” Tara took a bite of her sandwich followed by a sip of her latte. “Opposable thumbs are definitely a plus. I had a bet with my brother once about if I could go a day without them. Not saying who won the bet, but I will say I’m pretty dexterous when need be.”

“Yep,” Clint confirmed with a careful adjustment to be able to brush some hair from her face. “Mac and cheese. You, me, Nat, and the kid. You think you’ll be okay to walk to the van or you need help?” He’d be the one to carry her if that was the case, he’d done it before. But with how wary the kid seemed he’d probably carry her on his back as opposed to in his arms or over his shoulder (ways he definitely had carried her in the past). His focus then turned back to Natasha.

“Fury probably won’t like it, but I’ve done shit he doesn’t like before. With success.” With the arm not wrapped around Isleif’s back he nudged her gently. “Probably mean less field work. Or you or Coulson help keep an eye on him when I’m on mission. And he’s a teenager already, some therapy and school and he’ll be good to be on his own.” He’d already decided. That much was clear.

He couldn’t let the kid fall victim to the bureaucracy that was SHIELD’s variation of witness protection. Being shuffled place to place or bring stuck in the middle of nowhere with people he doesn’t know or trust at all. Clint knew he had the kid’s trust. Enough to let Clint lead him out of there and into SHIELD’s medical at any rate.

Natasha nudged her as she started to drift off, the mild concussion not too worrying but still not anything to play around with. That, and if she fell asleep now she wouldn’t wake up for at least another twelve hours. She was already starving, she’d be even worse if allowed sleep.

“Well, I don’t stress out if I don’t see my size in a store. I just find the closest to it and adjust myself so it fits the way I want it to. I can’t do animals though, I’ve tried. It just doesn’t work. My dream of being an animorph has been put on hold.”

“She learned it from you.” After all, a fair few people would call Isleif a heathen as well. But Clint nodded in approval as Isleif grabbed her phone and moved to the side.

Again, he found himself surveying the room. Studying everything from the way the light flickered to the anxious knee bobbing from one of the other patients’ family members. He patted his knee and Lucky scooted out from under the chair to rest his head on Clint’s leg so he could pet the dog.

When Isleif returned, he glanced over and Lucky moved back to lying at his feet. “She okay?”

“ Fair enough, ” she had to concede. She was, after all, a heathen. According to many at least. And herself.

Her answer just left him more confused. Was he supposed to know this? Ezra moved his arms a bit to test how the shirt moved with him and made a slight face. “This shirt is fine,” He tapped a hand against his chest at the Captain America t-shirt. “But this feels weird when I put my arms out.” To illustrate, he put his arms out as if he was handling a box of some sort.

“Bear puts up with the coat. If it was up to him he’d be huddled around the air vent with the heat on instead of wearing a jumper.” Wait… Could dogs wear jumpers? He’d think so… “But I’d definitely like one for him.”

“Ah, the inelasticity of flannel. It’s all good, no worries. We’ll get you something that fits.” Isleif wasn’t the world’s best fashion guru, but she sure as hell beat Clint in terms of knowing the basics. It also helped that Ezra was closer to her age, twinkiness aside. 

Not all his missions were Avengers level threats. Sometimes it was just him and one or two others. It had been one of those missions. Himself, Natasha, and Isleif were in a minor HYDRA base. Just was supposed to be in and out, but of course nothing ever goes to plan for Clint. 

They found a kid, no older than fourteen. Things escalated, there was fighting and running and a rushed exit.

They’d made it to medical, not without its struggles. The kid they found turned out to not like medical at all, it took a lot of trial and error to even let them do a physical exam on him and patch up injuries from the day. He was sitting in a corner on the floor carefully eyeing up anyone that got too close. Clint had lost a hearing aid, which made some parts a little more difficult. His audiologist was going to kill him. Maybe he needed to change from behind the ear to something more compact and secure.

Isleif and Natasha weren’t overly fond of medical either, not that he could blame either of them. Between their curiosities about Isleif and the involuntary medical procedures done to Natasha, they both had more than enough reason to dislike the poking and prodding. “He’s not gonna trust anybody if we move him to a safe house.” Partially observation and partially a question. 

They couldn’t just send the boy off to the farm with Laura and her girlfriend, and she was the one Clint trusted the most. The only other alternative would be to have him stay with himself or Natasha… But would that work? And would that be allowed? They could just pull the Avengers card if anyone argued. “At least my place for tonight. You and Is too. Mac and cheese and decompressing.”

Sometimes, Isleif was put on assignments that her abilities were useless in. Fury said it was good to be well-rounded when it came to missions and not rely on her powers as a solution for everything. Which was incredibly fair, considering that prolonged use may end with her death.

That didn’t mean she didn’t torch everything she could in the HYDRA base once copies were made to hand over to SHIELD. And the whole base, too. A little bit, at least.

Now there was some kid that they found, saved, whatever, and that put a whole new snag in everything. Especially since Clint was saying that they couldn’t just send him somewhere. Which was incredibly fair, Isleif thought, since he was definitely experimented on in some way or another. Or multiple ways. Ways she shouldn’t be thinking about when it was her turn to get poked and prodded by medics.

tf you mean there isn’t an active witcher rpc

What was it they said in hollywood writing? Show, don’t tell? Tara took off her glasses and sat them on the table beside her food. And, as she spoke, her features started to shift along. “So, there’s this guy I took a drawing class with once, really nice guy . His dad’s family’s from Japan and he adores his grandmother. Says his grandmother’s gonna pay for him to get a tattoo when he’s old enough, a cat in a traditional Japanese art style. Says it’s based on his favorite story that she used to tell him when he was little.”

“This is what he looks like.”

Shapeshifters were a dime a dozen, sometimes, yet they were invaluable as spies and intelligence agents. Isleif clicked her tongue, “ Good start, and every agency will scramble for a shapeshifter. But we’re looking for different. Better. ”

“Yeah. I’m never gettin’ rid of you.” Clint had sent out texts to those he’d trusted with Ezra’s situation and was tapping at the side of his phone watching for responses. It wasn’t a long list, thank God. “Gonna end up babysitting your snake when you’re on mission for the rest of my life.”

He looked back to her and then leaned a bit to look at Lucky. He was definitely picking up on the seriousness of the situation. “You should call her, let her know it’s not you that’s hurt. She’s gotta be freaking out not knowing the details.“

.“ Valkyrie is good company, especially when she takes her mice the proper way and not sideways like a heathen. ” She huffed out a small laugh before taking out her phone and standing.