#clint bartonxreader

“Well I can’t very well leave you to fend for yourself, now can I? As it stands, I’m already a shitty friend, working together can’t hurt things.”

Bruce grins and grips my shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t fight back my smile. “Do I need to pack a bag, or will I be allowed to go home at the end of the day?”

“Not sure yet. Might as well bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush just in case.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you Monday.”

“I can’t believe you actually pulled it off, Banner,” Stark says. “You wrangled a counselor for the team?”

“What,” I say. “Like it was supposed to be hard?”

Bruce laughs and reaches out to place his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve known (Y/N) for just about as long as I can remember. I’m sure she’ll be a good fit.”

“As long as you can remember, huh?” I look past Captain Rogers and find a sandy haired man. He grins when I meet his eyes. “Just how long?”

I bob my head from side to side. “Somewhere between twenty years and most of our lives.”

He whistles. “Pretty long time, then.”

“Mhm.”

Bruce clears his throat. “I’m sure (Y/N) wants to see where she’ll be working, so I’ll just show her to her office.”

Everyone in the boardroom waves and Bruce leads me out of the room. As soon as we’re out in the hall I sigh and bow my head, finally able to let my shoulders relax.

“That was a lot.”

Bruce chuckles. “Trust me, it’ll either get worse or stay exactly the same as time goes on, depending on who you’re talking to.”

“The blond guy who spoke up, that’s Hawkeye, right?”

“Clint Barton, yeah.”

“Will I be seeing much of him?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know much about the guy. He seems pretty happy-go-lucky and stable most of the time, though.”

“Huh.” I shrug and hitch my bag a little higher on my shoulder. “You never know with some people.”

“True. I’m sure you’ll deal with him at least once more after this. He’s the curious type.”

“I guess I’ll have to look forward to that, then.”

Bruce hummed in agreement and leads me to the elevator bank and takes me down to what will eventually be my office. He gives me a basic rundown of the facilities and shows me which restroom is closest to my office. I ask for a baseline reading on everyone on the team and Bruce rattles off what he’s noticed about the main five.

“Steve will most likely drop by to make small talk, but it may take some time for him to open up in any way that counts. Tony will joke about therapy, but once he warms up to you it’ll be impossible to get him to leave.”

“Oof, that bad?”

“He’s long-winded.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to enforce appointments with him when he starts to take interest.”

“Probably wise.”

“And Natasha?”

“I doubt you’ll see much of her. She has her ways of working through her issues on her own.”

“Do they involve murder?”

“Don’t know, and I don’t care to.”

“Got it. None of our business. I’ll let her come to me if she needs anything.” I plop down behind my new desk. “What about Thor?”

“Who knows. He shows up when he wants and tends to be a pretty jovial guy.”

“Ah. Is there anyone else outside of the tower I can expect?”

“Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey will be around from time to time. If Steve has his way, Bucky will move in at some point, and Wanda is currently in the process of moving into the tower, so you may see her more after that. I’m not sure how often she’ll drop by. She’s fairly private due to her powers.”

“Energy manipulation, right?”

He nods. “That, and other mind tricks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But that just leaves Clint, and we’ve already gone over what you can expect from him.”

“It doesn’t just leave Clint, Bruce.” I fold my hands on the desktop. “I expect to see you in here at least once a week. Ideally twice.”

Bruce scowls. “(Y/N), you know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, well, I listen to your opinions on that stuff when I’m just your friend. Now I’m your therapist, and you’re going to listen to me because I know what works for you. So I expect you to get your pasty ass in here when you’re scheduled.”

“You’re making appointments for me now?”

“Until I’m sure you’ll come to me on your own, yes.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Send me the schedule. I’ll see you at my appointed time.”

“Wonderful.” I relax my shoulders, letting my professional mask slip. “Thanks for this, Bruce. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” He cracks a smile. “You’re the only person I trust to get to the root of our issues.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“Believe me, (Y/N), if anyone’s gonna let me down, it’ll be the team.” I laugh and he heads for the door. “I’ll see you later. Good luck with your first day.”

“Thanks, Bruce. I’ll see you later!”

“So, (Y/N),” Tony says, spreading out on the couch across from my chair. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah, what makes you tick? What motivates you to try and heal the fragile minds of the Avengers?”

“I’d say a decent paycheck is a pretty good motivator, Mr. Stark.”

He seems disappointed with my answer. “Is that it?”

“Well, that, and I want to make sure Bruce is doing alright. He’s struggled with therapy in the past, and I want to make sure he’s getting the kind of help that he needs.”

“I see.” He presses his lips together and folds his arms. “You’re not even curious about the rest of the team?”

“Of course I’m curious, but nothing discussed in this tower will be shared with anyone outside. I take my patients privacy very seriously.”

“You sure you don’t just fear for your life?”

“Living in New York, I fear for my life constantly. That doesn’t mean that I’m worried about getting merced if I get a little loose lipped outside of work.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “That being said, I won’t be sharing your confidential information with anyone you haven’t specifically given authorized access to your records.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I’m a professional, right?”

He smiles. “I’m really starting to like you, (Y/N).”

“Then I guess I have a lot more of this to look forward to, then, don’t I?”

I laughs and hauls himself up from the couch. “We’ll see.”

I make a note of his response in my open document. “Sounds like a tentative yes to me, Mr. Stark, and I’ll be here so long as you deem my services necessary.”

He nods and exits my office. He leaves the door open.

“How are you liking it here so far, (Y/N)?”

“It’s been quiet, Captain Rogers. It’s a bit like pulling teeth trying to get anyone to make use of their resources.”

“I guess it would be. We’re a relatively private bunch.” He pauses a moment. “And, please, call me Steve.”

“Right, Steve. Is there anything that I can do for you today?” I ask. “It’s entirely alright if you just want to make small talk.”

“Oh, well, uh…” He awkwardly clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “I guess I just wanted to get a lay of the land.”

“I understand.” I glance around my office. “I should probably bring in some art and plants. Make it a little less sterile in here.”

Steve laughs. “That might help.”

I smile. “Maybe an area rug?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you think would be best.”

“I appreciate the creative freedom.” I close my laptop, set it to the side, and settle back in my chair. “Is there something on your mind, Steve?”

“No,” he says quickly. He immediately looks conflicted. “I… well, kind of.”

“Feel free to speak. Nothing you say will leave this office.”

“You hardly know me.”

I shrug. “I know how stressful this environment can be. And, while your team is very good at what they do, they’re also the ones who are causing your stress.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” I watch him chew the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’m just concerned that things might not get better, even when Bucky’s moved in.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I’m worried that it might not be a good fit for him, or that the team won’t accept him, or that he might not even want to be around me.”

“Those are all valid concerns. Have you mentioned any of this to him?”

“God no. I don’t want to stress him out more than I already have with all of this moving business.”

“I might suggest bringing it up. He might be having similar worries himself, and, as helpful as it is to work towards what’s troubling you with me, I won’t be able to settle your nerves.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“If nothing else, it might open up a new line of communication between the two of you, which couldn’t hurt.”

Steve stays for another hour, just talking. When he leaves, he asks if I want the door open or closed. I don’t give him a definite answer and he leaves it open, just a crack. I laugh and start on his profile.

Someone knocks on my door and I glance up from my paperwork to see Clint standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Barton,” I say. “I was wondering when I might see you.”

He shrugs. “Here I am.”

“After two weeks, I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“If I was?”

“Then it’s none of my business.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “I like that answer.”

I rise from my desk and gesture to the couch. He raises his eyebrows, but takes a seat anyway. I sit across from him and watch as he tries to decide just how he should sit. In the end, he leans heavily on his knees. Nothing about him is relaxed.

“I’m starting to think Bruce was wrong about you.”

“What’d the green bean tell you about me?”

“Nothing concrete,” I answer. “He just mentioned that you seem to have a positive outlook on things most of the time.”

He snorts. “Great.”

“Mmm, I see. It’s a facade, then?”

He frowns and presses a finger to his right ear. “Could you say that again?”

“I said, it’s a facade, then?”

“Sometimes.”

I nod. “Interesting.”

He barks out a laugh. “Yeah, interesting.”

I watch him look around the room, examining the art on the walls and the stacks of paper on my desk. When he turns his head to the left, I notice his purple earpiece and something suddenly clicks. He tilts his head to the side when he sees me staring.

“What?”

“Would it be easier if we signed?” I ask, signing along as I speak.

He looks surprised. “You sign?”

I laugh. “Yes. My little brother is on the Autism spectrum. When he was a kid, he was almost entirely nonverbal. Mom taught him sign, and the rest of the family learned along with him.”

“That must’ve been really nice for him.”

“It was nice to be able to communicate with him when he couldn’t vocalize what he wanted to say. He eventually started speaking when he was about seven, though.”

“And you still held onto the signing skills?”

“Of course! It’s not like he just, bam, started talking. It was a long process, and he still has nonverbal days sometimes.” Clint starts to actually smile and it warms my heart. “It’s come in handy in my particular line of work too. Deaf and hard of hearing folks need counsellors and therapists too.”

“Which brings the topic of conversation back to me.” He shakes his head and leans back against the couch and signs, “You’re a tricky one, (Y/N).”

“I’m not tricky!”

“Then what?”

“I’m accommodating.” I speak again, but continue to sign along. “You don’t have to tell me everything, or anything, really. But I’m here to help, if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Clint. Any time.”

“Seems like you and Clint are getting close,” Bruce says.

“I don’t know what you mean, man.”

“He’s in here all the time, (Y/N). There’s no way Barton needs therapy five times a week.”

“It’s not always about therapy, Bruce. I strive to make my office a safe space where everyone knows that they can speak freely. He knows that he can come here and chill out without worrying about the rest of the team.”

“Barton doesn’t really worry about anything, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Bruce stares at me, eyes narrowed, and snaps his fingers. "You like him."

I roll my eyes. "I do not like him, Bruce. And you're not even here to talk about Clint, you're here to work on yourself and managing your stress levels."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure there's something we could talk about aside from me."

I sigh and hold my head in my hands. "I've been here for two months. I haven't been around long enough to form anything more than tentative relationships with the rest of the team. I'm more concerned about whether or not they can open up to me than I am with my love life."

“Right,” Bruce clears his throat.

“Thank you.” He looks thoroughly ashamed and I have to laugh. “I appreciate the interest, but it’s just not something that you need to worry about.”

“No, I understand.” He smiles and shrugs. “I guess I just miss having that easy rapport with you.”

“I mean, we still have that, Bruce. It’s just not something that I want to talk about in the workplace. It’s one thing to shoot the shit over lunch on a Saturday, it’s another to discuss my patients with another patient, all of whom are my coworkers.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

I smile. “It’s fine. Did you want to pick up where we left off on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“(Y/N)?”

I’m startled by the woman in the doorway. “Ms. Romanoff?”

She shakes her head and steps into my office. “As long as you’re not a government official, it’s just Natasha.”

“Ah, right.” I sit a little straighter in my chair. “What can I do for you, Natasha?”

“Clint’s said you’ve helped him a lot.”

“I don’t know about that. We just talk. He does all the helping.”

“I figured you’d say that.” She moves quickly across the room and takes a seat on the couch. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

“Oh.” I scramble up from my desk to sit across from her. “What about?”

“I need help working through a recent case.”

“Are you sure I’m qualified for that?”

“Well, you said Clint does all the helping. Maybe what I need is a sounding board.”

“Fair enough. Where are you caught up?”

Natasha rattles off the details of a recent mission. I do my best to follow her, but she loses me when she starts explaining the intricacies of a piece of Hydra technology they discovered. Eventually, she perks up, almost looking like she wants to jump up from her seat and run from the room.

“I think I’ve got it.”

“That’s great!”

She calmly gets to her feet and walks to the door. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

I shake my head. “It was my pleasure.”

“Even so, you helped me.” She flashes me an unexpected smile. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s not a problem, Natasha. I hope that we can speak again at some point.”

She nods and heads for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

In the hall I hear, “Oh, hey, Nat.” and Clint pokes his head in soon after.

I smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leans in the doorway and folds his arms. “What’d Nat dump on you?”

“Doctor patient confidentiality, Barton,” I say. “I can’t tell you.”

His arms fall to his side and he dramatically slumps into the room. “I thought you trusted me!”

I laugh. “I do trust you, Clint. But it’s not my information to give.” He drapes himself across the couch and grins at the sight of me fighting back my smile. “If it were, Bruce would have full access to what we talk about in our sessions.”

“That’s private information, (Y/N)!” He laughs. “I see your point.”

“Good.”

“Did you want to grab lunch later? That weird little cafe down the street started serving some kind of coffee burger.”

“Ugh, and you want to eat that?”

“(Y/N), it’s a coffee burger.”

“With all the heinous shit you put in your body, it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“If you think I’m bad, you should meet my dog.”

“Is that an offer?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to stick around long enough to find out.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s been four months, Clint. If I haven’t run for the hills yet, I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna happen for a while yet.”

Something twinkles in his eyes. “That’s good to hear. I was worried I might scare you off.”

“If anyone were to scare me off, it’d be Tony.” I shake my head. “That man is a handful.”

“What happened to patient confidentiality?”

“Since when is Tony being a handful a secret?” He laughs and I relax in my seat. “But, yeah, I’ll get lunch with you.”

“Really?”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over from physically eating coffee.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like they solidified the coffee and stuck it on a bun!”

“How do you know they didn’t? Maybe they turned the coffee into jello, passed it through a meat grinder, and threw it on a griddle.”

His face scrunches up in disgust. “Ugh, that’d just be burnt coffee.”

“I’ve watched you drink an entire pot of burnt coffee.”

“Desperate times, (Y/N). They call for desperate measures.”

I sigh and shake my head. ”I guess it’s fine, so long as you’re not addicted to caffeine pills.”

“Those don’t do anything for me.”

“That’s terrifying.”

He laughs, hauls himself up from the couch, and offers me a hand. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Head out for lunch.”

“Now? I thought you said later.”

“It’s been like five minutes. It’s later now.”

I laugh. “I can’t just go now. I have an appointment with Steve in twenty minutes. We can leave after that.”

He pouts. “Fine.”

“Don’t give me that look, Clint!”

He sighs and trudges towards the door. “I guess I’ll just have to make a reservation for one thirty.”

“That’d be great.”

He flashes a brilliant smile before disappearing out into the hall. I shake my head and move back to my desk.

“That man is gonna get me in trouble.”

“I thought you said you weren’t involved with Clint?”

“I’m not, Bruce.”

“Then what’s this?” He places his phone on my keyboard.

I pick up the phone and find an article titled “Hawkeye’s New Flame, or Just a Fling?” pulled up. A picture of Clint and I at lunch the other day sits just below a paragraph speculating who I could be. I snort and hand him his phone.

“Clint and I went to lunch. That’s all.” I sit back and fold my arms. “What’s the problem, Bruce?”

“I don’t want you getting dragged into some kind of media storm because you work with us.”

“It’s one article!”

“There’s at least four more like it that I’ve seen.”

“I’m not worried about it, Bruce. Clint just went out for lunch and some pap caught us talking. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it, but I can’t stop people from talking.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“No one should have to deal with anyone plastering their personal life all over the internet, but you know what? I’d rather get caught out in public with Clint than Tony.” I laugh. “Can you imagine the shitstorm that’d kick up if that happened?”

Bruce tries not to laugh. “I guess you’re right.”

“It was bound to get out that the Avengers brought in a counsellor at some point. It’s better that it’s like this instead of some media outlet picking up a rumor and deciding that you’re all unstable.”

“Well…”

“I’m not saying you’re the most sane bunch, but that’s no one’s business but yours. Regardless, don’t worry about this. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” He pockets his phone. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Of course I would, Bruce. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

I sit on the floor of the gym and lift the collar of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face.

Clint plops down on the floor beside me and tips his head to the side.

“Definitely didn’t expect to find you in here,” he says.

“What, I can’t work out?” I groan and lay back. “Ugh.”

“You okay?”

“No. I knew I should’ve just stuck to the treadmill.”

“What’d you do to yourself?”

“Weights.”

He laughs. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. Is wanting to be able to lift a very large dog a good reason?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad reason.” He lays beside me and props himself up on his elbow. “I could help you, if you want.”

“I don’t know how I feel about being all sweaty gross around you.”

He pokes my stomach and I laugh and shift away. “I don’t know, (Y/N), sweaty’s the new sexy.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” I laugh and scrunch my nose. “Also kind of gross.”

“Sweet and kind of gross, I think you’ve pretty much summed me up perfectly.” I laugh so hard that I snort and he grins. “So, do you want help working out?”

I press my fist to my mouth to quiet my giggling. “If you’re willing to, I really would appreciate it.”

“Then it’s a done deal.” I thank him and his smile softens. “Sorry about those articles last week, by the way.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I should’ve warned you, at least. I’m used to it, but you didn’t sign up for pap shots and gossip columns when you took this job.”

I scowl. “Honestly, Clint. If you’re not gonna read my lips, read my hands. It’s totally fine. I don’t care. I had a nice time at lunch. A few dumb articles won’t change that.”

“You mean that?”

“Well, yeah. I like spending time with you outside of all of this,” I say, gesturing to the tower in general. “With, y’know, no expectations of maintaining all of the professional bullshit.”

“Pretty sure you’re the most professional one here.”

“Thanks, I’m glad that comes across in the day to day, but do you understand what I’m saying? Like I genuinely do not care about what a shitty news outlet says. At the end of the day, the only opinions that matter are ours.” I sigh and settle on the floor. “Sorry.”

“Sounds like we’re not the only ones who need therapy.”

I hum. “Maybe I do.”

“No shame in it.”

I smile at him. “I know.” I sit up and get to my feet. “It’s getting late, I should head out.”

“You’re in tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around till noon. I’ve got a wedding later in the day.”

“Not yours, right?”

I laugh. “No, definitely not mine.”

“Cool,” He smiles up at me. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Since when do we have staff meetings?” Clint asks.

“Since we brought on a counselor,” Tony says.

I frown. “I’ve been here six months and I’ve never been to any kind of meeting.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you brought that up and just keep moving with the meeting.”

I snort and shoot Clint a look. He laughs and signs for me to stop. I wave him off and turn my attention back to the head of the table.

Tony rambles on for about half an hour before Steve cuts in and the two of them start going back and forth. They bicker for twenty minutes before Thor swans in, greeting everyone with his bright, booming voice. I was stuck in my office the last time he was on Earth, so our paths never had a chance to cross. Steve takes a moment to introduce the two of us and Thor vigorously shakes my hand, unintentionally jostling me around the whole time. He takes his seat on the other side of Bruce and the conversation picks up again.

I catch Clint’s eye twitching in my peripheral when Thor speaks a little too loudly. I gesture to get his attention and he raises his eyebrows when he meets my eyes.

“You good?” I sign.

He nods. “Can’t pay attention to save my life in these meetings.”

“I’ve never known anyone to compliment your attention span.”

He mouths, “Oh, ha ha,” and I laugh.

“You’re mean, (Y/N).”

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“Never said I didn’t.” He grins. “The way things are going, I’d say you’re probably just my type.”

I shake my head and hide my smile behind my hand. “Stop.”

“Aw, you're cute when you're embarrassed." I flip him off and he laughs. “That's a compliment!"

I snort. “Pay attention, Clint.”

We manage to make it through another hour and, by that time, someone has turned off the lights and started giving a presentation. I fold my arms on the table and rest my chin on top and beg myself to stay awake through this meeting. I’m sure it’ll only be a little while longer.

Clint’s hand creeps into my line of sight and he taps the table to get my attention. I shoot him a quizzical look and he lifts his eyebrows.

“You still with us?” he signs.

“No.”

“It’s going longer than I thought it would.”

“I’m honestly about to fall asleep.”

“Aw, (Y/N), no.”

“This is how I go out. Avenge me, Clint.”

“No!”

“It’s your job. You have to.”

“But who will help me through the trauma?”

I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter. “I’d be dead, that’s none of my concern.”

He shakes his head. “And you call yourself my friend.”

Natasha clears her throat, startling me away from the conversation. I try to pay attention to the presentation, but I just can't wrap my head around what they're talking about and Clint easily distracts me again.

"Quick question."

Surprised, I sign, "Shoot."

"Would you want to go out with me?"

My brain stops working for a second. "Wait, what?"

"I said, will you go out with me?"

My heart hammers in my chest. "Like as friends, or on a date?"

He sighs. "We've been hanging out as friends for months now. I'm asking you on a date, stupid."

My face heats and I sit back in my seat. “Oh.”

He laughs. “Did I break you?”

“A little.” I frown.

“Just say yes!”

Startled, I glance up the table, only to find Natasha glaring at Clint and I. Everyone is looking at us and I suddenly want to disappear.

“What’s the problem?” Steve asks.

“I’m sick of watching the two of them flirt with each other,” Natasha says. “You’ve been mooning over each other for months. Just say yes and be done with it.”

“Nat, they haven’t said a single thing since the beginning of the meeting.”

“They’ve been signing at each other the entire meeting.” She looks directly at me and signs, “I see everything.”

“Sorry.”

“Just say yes.” She looks very pointedly between Clint and I. “You’d be good together.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” Bruce says.

“That was months ago, Bruce. Things change.”

“Don’t be hard on her,” Natasha says. “Clint’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m just gonna, um…” I gesture to the door. “I’m just gonna go.”

I see Tony and Steve nod and I shove my chair back from the table and make my escape. The door shuts behind me, and I’m free. I sigh, relieved to be free of the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, only for the embarrassment of having my crush exposed to my coworkers to settle deep in my stomach.

I press my fingertips to my temples and walk down the hallway. “I knew he was gonna get me in trouble.”

I make the decision to just go back to my office. Maybe I can at least get some work done or, at the very least calm down. I turn as the elevator doors close and catch a glimpse of the conference door opening at the end of the hall. I shift slightly so that it’s not in my line of sight.

The elevator ride feels like it’s too long and I immediately flop down on my couch as soon as I’m in my office. I can't get comfortable and shift around until I'm upside down with my legs over the back of the conch, staring at the ceiling. I press the heels of my hands over my eyes and groan out of frustration.

“I left without even answering him,” I mutter.

The door suddenly opens and I freeze, pulling my hands away from my face, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

"(Y/N)?"

"Clint?" I try to sit up and smack my head on the edge of the coffee table. "Shit."

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I rub my forehead and sit up a little more carefully. "I'll live."

He takes a seat on the coffee table and watches intently as I sit upright on the couch and face him. He reaches out and gently touches my forehead, only to jerk his hand back when I wince.

"Sorry."

"Don't, it's fine."

"Okay." He sighs softly and shuffles awkwardly on the table. He stills when I touch his knee and takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry about the meeting. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

"Honestly, Clint, you don't need to apologize," I murmur. "I got flustered and then embarrassed when everyone else got involved."

"I know. I probably like pushing your buttons a little too much."

"That's not it."

"But I do push your buttons."

"Yeah, but only 'cause I let you." He smiles and I squeeze his hand. "But I'm a deeply private person. To have Natasha butt in like that, no matter the good she meant by it, really set me on edge."

"I had no idea."

"I don't feel like I have to keep everything close to my chest when I’m with you. You tease me, but it’s never from a place of malice and you know me well enough that you never take it too far.”

“I mean, you give as good as you get.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he runs his thumb over my knuckles. “But still. I should’ve just asked in private, but you know me.”

“Yeah. You’re sweet, but kind of stupid sometimes. More than a little impulsive. And way too fond of coffee.”

“Aw, I thought that was endearing!” He smiles when I laugh. “The invitation still stands, but you don’t have to say yes.”

“What’re you talking about?” He meets my eyes and I shake my head. “I’m not about to turn you down. You haven’t introduced me to your dog yet.”

“Oh, I get it, you only want me for Lucky.”

“Mhm.”

He shakes his head and kneels on the floor in front of me. “Shoulda known.”

“I know, I’m pure evil.” He grins and takes my face in his hands. “I should be fired, right?”

“Without a doubt.”

I hum softly and lean forward to bump my nose against his. After a moment’s hesitation, Clint closes the distance between us and gently kisses me. I place one hand on his forearm and tilt my head to the side to kiss him back. He smiles against my lips and pulls away, his eyes flitting over my face.

“So… about that dog.”

I have no idea what would happen to them after that, but I’d like to think they’re having a great time, petting dogs and continuing to mess with each other, all whilst falling in love.

I’d love to know what you guys thought of this little one shot. Did you love it, did you hate it? Did you breathe out through your nose a little bc you kind of laughed but also didn’t? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

If you’d like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know!

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Coughing, you pad out of your bedroom and into your kitchen, where you can see fire — fire — flickering off of the cracked linoleum. The smoke and the rapidly growing flames have you blinking back tears and swearing loudly. Someone pounds on your door.

”Help,” you cry out. “I’m in here!”

The fire is between you and the front door. Shit. You scramble to get back into your room, grabbing an empty duffel bag on your way past the utility closet. When you get into your room, you slam your door shut,

You toss clothes haphazardly into the bag, grabbing the comfiest that you can find. Now you remember why Professor X had told your class why you needed to keep a bag packed at all times.

”Humans… normal people… don’t always understand what’s different, and they can be dangerous. It is always best to be prepared to move.”

You have gotten too comfortable in the little life you’ve built for yourself, and this is the result. Stupid, stupid, naïve, you scold yourself, sliding your clunky old laptop in amidst the soft sweatpants and worn t-shirts. This is why you listen to your elders, dumbass.

Biting your lip, you briefly debate digging around in your closet for the delicate gold chain that you’d been given when your family dropped you off at Xavier’s so many years ago. You scoff to yourself. It’s the only thing you have of them; it’s a non debatable necessity.

You’re on your hands and knees waist-deep in the junk that you’ve tossed into your closet when someone taps on your window. You don’t hear them at first, finally wrapping your fingers around the knotted gold chain. They knock on the white-wood frame this time. You hear them and stand up too fast, smacking the back of your head against the lower clothes bar.

“Fuck!”

Rubbing your hand over the newly-formed goose egg, you turn to your window with a scowl. Your apartment is three stories up and the fire escape’s ladder to the ground is always rusted stuck — there’s no way anyone could climb up it. “Who are you?”

”What, you don’t recognize me? I’m hurt.”

That voice… You definitely recognize it, but you can’t place where you’ve heard it before. How do you know him? “Who are you?”

The man slides in your window like it’s second nature. He’s wearing a mask-hood hybrid. A super? He pulls the cowl back, and recognition dawns on you.

“Clint?”

“Hey, sweetheart. Miss me?”

You splutter at his use of ‘sweetheart’. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Do you really want to have that conversation while your apartment is on fire? Come with me, I can keep you safe.”

Safe, right. Safe is good. You spread your hands out in front of yourself. “Lead the way, oh mighty one.”

Clint makes to grab your duffel, but you beat him to it. “Nope, there’s delicate stuff in here, man. I’ve got it. Can you give me my cat?” He looks confused, but then you point at your incredibly dumb cat; he’s rubbing up against Clint’s legs. The man scoops Sprinkles up and hands him to you. The little idiot is purring like crazy. You unzip the bag and let Sprinkles sit on the top of the clothes before zipping it up.

Clint snorts. You roll your eyes. Sprinkles does look a little ridiculous with just his poofy head poking through the zipper. In your hurry to get to the window, you brush up against the doorknob and hiss. It’s hot enough to burn your skin now. You clap a hand over the burn.

”Okay, I’m good to go. Can we go now?” Your voice shakes with the pain. You’d never been good with injuries in school, and that hasn’t changed over the last two years.

”Yeah, of course. C’mon.” Clint helps you through the window and onto the metal platform of the fire escape. It’s cold outside, and you remember that a weather anchor had predicted snow later on in the week. Clint waves you towards the stairs going up. “This way.”

You give him a very thorough side-eye. “Shouldn’t we be going down?”

Clint jerks his head at the angry crowd below. “You sure you wanna go down there right now?” You shake your head. He nods. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now come on, I have a place where you’ll be safe until we can get you to Xavier’s.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes climbing up the fire escape before reaching the roof. Clint hasn’t even broken a sweat, you notice. Meanwhile, you’re panting and bracing your hands on your knees as you catch your breath. “How,” pant “are,” gasp “you,” wheeze “not,” deathrattle “dying?”

“Because I’ve trained nearly every single day of my adult life to do stuff like this,” he says. You place a hand on your chest, as if that will stop your heart from leaping out behind your ribs. Clint frowns. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine,” you say, breathing heavily through your nose. “Just… give me… a minute.”

Sprinkles meows at you. You idly scritch begins his ears. Your heart rate slows to a more manageable pace, and you swallow past the lump in your throat. “Okay, I’m good, I think. Unless there are more stairs. If there are more stairs, just let me perish.”

Clint gives you a strange look. You shrug. Stairs suck; you’re not afraid to voice your opinion and you tell the archer as much. He rolls his eyes.

Smoke is beginning to cloud the air. “So…” you breathe in and cough. “How do you plan on getting us down from here?”

Clint holds up a finger and makes a one-eighty turn, muttering. You strain to hear what he says, but he’s just far enough away that you can’t quite catch it.

Something sizzles and sparks beside Clint, and you scramble backwards as an orange portal — a portal?! — opens. While you’ve seen some weird shit in your life (Logan peeling potatoes with his claws while on kitchen duty was pretty fucking weird at the time, okay?), this really does take the cake. You’re pretty sure that the orange circle is permanently emblazoned on the inside of your eyelids. It’s bright.

“Go on, I’m right behind you.” You hadn’t heard Clint approach you, and in your surprise you shriek, pitching headfirst into the portal. As you fall, the only thing you can really concentrate on is not squishing your cat.

Your shoulder hits the ground hard, and you groan. Sprinkles meows and licks one of your fingers. Clint’s shoes appear in your peripheral vision as he offers you a hand.

“What the hell was that?”

“Dimensional portal, à la Doctor Strange.” Clint pulls you upright with little trouble when you grasp his hand. You don’t let go of his hand. “It’s safe here, I promise.”

”Where is this place?” You peer at your surroundings. It’s a beautiful building, whatever and wherever it is, with heavy woods and plush carpets and a distinctly art nouveau vibe to it. If you hadn’t just tripped off of the roof of your apartment building and landed inside of another one, you might have relaxed enough to ask questions about the history of the place, but you did just trip through a portal, so your lack of questions could be forgiven. Clint opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts across the room.

“This is the Sanctum Sanctorum,” a man in a red cape says as he glides down from the balcony above. Your eyebrows rise. “I am Doctor Stephen Strange. You must be a mutant from Agent Barton’s quadrant.”

“Pleased to meet you,” you say, and then you introduce yourself, pulling your hand out of Clint’s in order to shake the man’s hand. Doctor Strange then returns to the second floor, leaving you alone with Clint. You turn to him, your hand finding a place on your hip. “Alright. What’s going on? Why were you oh-so-conveniently near where I lived? I could’ve gotten away from the rioters just fine on my own.”

“My people — the Avengers — and your people — the X-Men — have joined forces temporarily,” Clint tells you. “There’ve been… threats… against mutants with the new tolerance laws that were passed recently. “

“That’s it?” You are distinctly unimpressed and it shows in the curl of your lips. “Mutants have dealt with worse in the past. What’s so big about this that Professor X has strangers evacuating mutants? Why hasn’t anyone contacted those of us who don’t live at the school anymore?”

Clint runs a hand through his hair. “Uh, well, we’re — I’m — not sure. It’s all very hush-hush, and I’m not an A-list Avenger, so…” He spreads his hands out before him. “I wish I had more information for you.”

“Alright, then,” you sigh and glance around the foyer of the Sanctum. “Is this where I’m supposed to stay? Or is there another stop on this ‘Underground Railroad’?”

”Huh? Oh, ha ha. Funny.” Clint doesn’t sound amused but the corners of his eyes are crinkled up, so you count that as a successful attempt at humor. “No, this is just a pit stop on the way to Xavier’s. Do you have a hoodie or something in that bag of yours? We’re gonna have to walk to my place before I can get you to Xavier.”

"Yeah. Of course I worry. You saw what she looked like when we found her. That shit broke my heart."

"I know. I felt it too. But we do what we have to for the people we love, right? And… and we love her."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I know that I do. And we're the same with her as we are when we're alone, all tangled up together like we're one person. I don't know about you, but I don't really do that shit with people who're just my friends." Clint chuckles and Bucky squeezes his hand. "When she's not with us, you complain that something's missin', and we both know it's (Y/N)."

Clint hums. "You're right."

Bucky cracks a smile. “I know I am.”

“Maybe we should tell her how we feel.” Clint searches Bucky’s face for any sign of reservation. “After everything we’ve been through together, and the way things are without her, I don’t think I can compartmentalize this.”

“I know.” Bucky scoots closer and Clint bumps his shoulder against Bucky’s. “I mean, we’re already pretty much together in every sense except the title.”

“Exactly.”

“We’re not going anywhere, ‘n she said she’s here to stay.” Bucky sighs. “Maybe we should tell her.”

Clint nods and they fall silent. Bucky can’t stop his mind from racing now, thinking about how (Y/N) will react when they tell her. Will she feel the same? Will she want both of them? The questions keep coming and his anxiety begins to spike, just as Clint starts to fidget beside him. He bounces his leg and bites at his lip, and Bucky can’t help feeling a little more calm knowing that Clint’s anxious too.

“How should we tell her?” Clint asks. “When should we tell her?”

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“How do you not know? You’re the one who makes the plans!”

“Clint, all of this is new to us. But what we’ve got with (Y/N) is good-”

“It’s great, actually,” Clint mumbles.

“Exactly. That’s the point. We can tell her when it feels right.”

Clint nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Bucky pecks him on the lips and pushes him away from the desk. “Now get outta here, I have paperwork I gotta finish before we can go home.”

Clint grins lopsidedly, and leans forward on his knees. “You kissed me.”

“Sure did.” Bucky looks him over and smiles before he turns back to his work. “Dunno why you’re surprised, we’ve done it before.”

“It’s just that you don’t do it all that often.” Clint shrugs. “It’s kinda nice.”

“You could’ve told me. I’d do it more often.”

“I know.”

“You could kiss me too, y’know.”

“I know, it’s just…” Clint shakes his head and gets up from his chair. “I’ll leave so you can concentrate.”

Bucky sighs. “Clint, c’mere.”

Clint shuffles closer to Bucky, eyebrows raised. Bucky gestures for Clint to lean down and tips his head back, carefully pressing his lips to Clints. Clint slowly responds, moving his hand to the back of Bucky’s neck and humming softly. Bucky pulls back and Clint quickly kisses him once more.

“What was that for?” Clint asks.

“I love (Y/N), but I also love you,” Bucky murmurs.

“I know. I love you too.” Clint combs his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “We don’t say that enough, do we?”

“No, we don’t.”

Clint smiles and heads for the door. “I’ll be at the range. Come get me when you’re done.”

Someone knocks at the door, and I’m momentarily pulled away from my work. I poke my head out of the bedroom and stare at the front door, waiting to see if they’ll just go away. They don’t immediately knock again, so I take my seat and settle back into working.

Unfortunately, they knock again.

I sigh, close my eyes, take a deep breath, and calm myself before getting up and going to the door.

“If you’re selling something, I don’t want it,” I call. “I still have Thin Mints in the freezer from five years ago that I haven’t eaten.”

I open the door and freeze where I stand.

Kate stands in the hallway, purple duffel slung over her shoulder. She smiles and waves.

“Hey.”

“Kate?” My brows pull together. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard from a friend in the Avengers that you were kidnapped-”

“Wait, what friend?” I ask. “Clint didn’t tell anyone what happened.”

“I went to school with someone on staff, they overheard something and passed it on to me.” She waves her hand. “Specifics don’t matter-”

“They kind of do, Kate. That’s confidential information. The fact that they told you is a massive breach of the contract they signed when they were hired.”

“You didn’t tell me what happened to you, (Y/N)!” She plants her hands on her hips. “Do you know how fucking worried I was about you?”

“I’m sorry, Kate. I know it must’ve been stressful. I should’ve been in better contact.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.”

“I’m sorry, Katie, I don’t know what else to say.”

Her bottom lip wobbles and she launches herself at me, arms wrapping around my shoulders, her nose pressed to my neck. I stumble back into the entryway and my muscles immediately scream under the strain of holding her up. I wrap my arms around her to try and lessen the strain, but I’m still not back to my full strength. I can’t keep this up for long.

“I was so scared for you!” she cries.

I sigh and rub my hand up and down her back. “I know.” I try to set her down, but she just tightens her hold. “Katie, you gotta let go. I can’t hold you up like I used to.”

She promptly lets go and drops to the floor. She holds my shoulders and looks me dead in the eye. “What happened to you?”

“Lots of poking, prodding, and needles, with some torture added for flavor.” Her expression morphs into one of horror and I carefully move around her to close the door. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine-”

“I am fine. I’m home and I’m recovering. Clint and Bucky make sure that I don’t push myself too hard.” I walk out to the living room and Kate follows. “I’m not saying I’m healthy or better by any means, but I really am fine.”

“Are you sure?” Kate drops her bag by the coat rack and takes a seat at the kitchen island. “What about your strength?”

“It’s slowly coming back, but I was there for a little over a week before the guys found me. I’ve had just under a week to really recover.” I pass her a bottle of water. “It’s a process.”

“How’d Clint take it?”

“Well, Clint was pretty calm, but Bucky apparently tore through just about every thug that got in his way.”

“Oh?”

“As soon as we got back to the compound everything pretty much went back to normal. Took them a few days to clear me to go home, but things’ve been good since.” I smile to myself and lean against the kitchen counter. “It’s good to be home.”

Kate smiles. “So. Both of them?”

“Hm?”

“Clint and Bucky and you.” She links her hands. “Both of them and you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, what’s going on there?”

“We’re really close. We always have been, but we’ve gotten closer since I got back.”

“Mhm, likely story.”

“There’s nothing more to it than that. You’re just looking for gossip.”

She rolls her eyes. “No I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, likely story.” I push off the counter and head back to the bedroom. “You’re welcome to stay, but I have to get back to work.”

“Oh?” Kate trails along after me and plops down on my bed when I sit at the desk. “You’re still employed?”

“Yeah, my clients were super understanding about the whole thing. The only problem lies in the fact that I’ve got two weeks of work piled up because of my little impromptu getaway.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Mhm.”

“How about I make dinner tonight?”

I stop typing and turn around to face her. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll make you dinner!”

“Please don’t.”

“I’ll go get groceries and make dinner when I get back. It’ll be great!”

“Kate, I love you, but you’re a shit cook.”

“I am not.”

“You can’t manage to cook a frozen pizza.”

She scowls. “I’ve gotten better since you left, and I’ll prove it to you.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

“I’ll be back before you know it, and the whole place is gonna smell amazing.”

I don’t say anything, and she hurries from the room and the front door opens and closes shortly after. I go back to work and barely notice when she gets back an hour later. I do what I can to ignore her as she rummages through my cabinets and drawers, but there’s only so much banging and clattering that I can block out.

Forty-five excruciatingly long minutes later, the front door opens again and I can finally relax a little.

I meet Clint and Bucky in the entryway and immediately wrap my arms around Clint’s middle.

Clint laughs and loops his arms around my shoulders. “Hello to you, too.”

I bury my face in his chest and mumble, “Please make it stop.”

“What?”

“Kate randomly showed up and decided she was gonna make dinner.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s destroyed half the kitchen already.”

Clint kisses the top of my head and rubs the space between my wings. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He moves around me and heads towards the kitchen. “Better figure out where we’re getting takeout from tonight, though.”

Bucky quickly takes Clint’s place and wraps me up in his arms.

“Sounds like you’ve had a rough day,” he says.

I nod. “I don’t really appreciate surprise visits.”

“I know you don’t.” He moves one hand to run his fingers up and down my neck, applying just enough pressure to relieve some of the tension. He hums softly when I relax against his chest. “You seem tense.”

“Because I am,” I mumble.

“Talk to me?”

“I… I’ve been working all day, and I was hoping I could try and get caught up, but then Kate showed up. She was upset that I didn’t tell her about what happened and then she was sad and she just launched herself at me and hugged me.” I shake my head. “If it’d just been a hug, I would’ve been fine, but I’m still too sore for that shit.”

“Is this okay, though?”

“Yeah, this is perfect. You know where and what to avoid.” I sigh. “I just wish my back would stop hurting.”

“Maybe I can help with that.”

“Would you?”

“Of course. Clint’s got Kate covered, it’s only fair that you get a back rub outta the deal.”

“I dunno if that’s how that works.”

“Well I’m not just gonna give you some Tylenol and call it a day. That’d be rude.” He takes my hand and leads me to the living room. “And also the barest fuckin minimum someone could do.”

Bucky takes a seat on the couch and has me sit on the floor between his legs. I lean forward on the coffee table and he starts moving his hands over my back, pressing his thumbs under my shoulderblades, and over the base of my wings before moving on to the small of my back. He works his way back up to my neck and I groan when he moves back between my wings. I push back against his hands and he obligingly digs his fingers in, earning a hum of approval from me.

“That good, huh?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Mhm.” I stretch my wings and he laughs. “‘S really nice, Buck.”

There’s a shout from the kitchen before something crashes to the floor. Bucky stops and I cover my face with my hands. Footsteps approach and stop just short of the coffee table.

“The hell was that, Clint?”

“I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind before this day is over,” I mumble.

“We’re definitely having takeout tonight,” Clint says.

He drops a bunch of takeout menus on the table, but I refuse to look at them and look up at Clint instead.

“We’re having Thai food.”

“What?!” Kate rushes over to join us. “I don’t like Thai food, though.”

“Kate, you fucked up dinner.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We’re having Thai. End of discussion.” I sigh and scrub my hands over my face. “What broke.”

“That white casserole dish you got from Tony a few years back,” Clint answers.

I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my temples. “I really liked that dish.”

“I know, (Y/N), I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Kate says. “I’ll go clean everything up.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Bucky mutters.

Bucky hands me his phone and tells me to order dinner while he gets me some Tylenol. As long as he’s known me, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could see the headache slowly spreading through my head. I quietly thank him and dial the number of the Thai place we used to regularly order from. I give them Clint’s name and they ask if I want the regular order.

“No, tonight we’re gonna need three chicken Pud See Ew, two seafood Pud Kee Mao, one chicken Pud Thai, all of those two stars, and then one order of fried rice with tofu.”

“Lots of company tonight?”

“No, we just want leftovers.”

They laugh and I ask them to deliver the food to my apartment instead of Clint’s. They oblige and let me know the food will be here in about half an hour. They promptly hang up and Bucky is back with the Tylenol and a glass of water before I can even put the phone down.

“You’re the best, you know that, right?”

Bucky laughs and hands the medication and water over. “I didn’t, but thanks.”

I hum and take the pills before hauling myself to my feet. “I’m gonna go back to work till the food gets here.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m still up to my eyeballs in first drafts. I’ll drown, if I’m not careful.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’ll try not to.”

I work until Clint pokes his head into my room to say the food’s arrived. It’s a little later than promised, but still hot enough to eat regardless. Everyone gathers around the coffee table to share each dish, but Kate sticks to the fried rice, as I thought she would.

When I finish my meal, I get up, kiss Clint and Bucky’s cheeks, and let them know I’ll be working for a while longer. Clint complains, but doesn’t do anything to stop me.

After almost an hour, the sounds of their conversation fade into white noise, and I barely even register them as I work. I wish I could be out there with them, but I know that there’s no way that I can reasonably expect to relax until I’ve made some kind of dent in my inbox.

It’s totally dark when Clint comes into the bedroom and drags me and my chair away from the desk. I protest, but he just closes my laptop and picks me up under my armpits.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter. “I can walk by myself.”

“I don’t trust you not to go right back to work.”

“But there’s so much of it… Can you please just put me down?”

“Nope.” He tosses me over his shoulder. “Hurry up, Buck!”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Bathroom. You’re gonna get ready for bed.”

“But my pajamas-”

“On the bathroom floor, where you leave them every single morning when you get dressed.”

I sigh. “Sometimes it’s annoying that you know me so well.”

"Comes with the territory, sweetheart."

"I know… still." I whap him with my wing and he laughs. "Annoying."

Clint deposits me in the bathroom and leaves to check on Bucky. I shut myself in and get ready for bed, taking my time brushing my teeth and washing my face. When I'm done, Clint and Bucky are cuddled up in bed. They shuffle away from each other when I approach and I hold up a hand to stop them.

"I can spoon Clint tonight," I say. "I don't need to be between you."

"But we want you between us," Bucky says.

"I… why? I've been in the middle for a week. Don't you miss getting close to Clint?"

"We can switch things up some other night. But right now, I like knowing that you're safe."

"And we know that you're safe when you're sandwiched between the two of us," Clint adds.

"But one of you always wakes up with a mouthful of feathers. Wouldn't it just be easier-"

Bucky cuts me off. "Please don't fight us on this, (Y/N). We just wanna be close to you."

I nod and climb into the bed and lay between with my back to Clint. I fold my wings tight against my back, but Clint doesn't move closer. Slowly, I roll onto my stomach and extend my right wing to cover him. He shuffles across the mattress and presses his chest to my back. He relaxes when I settle against him and Bucky then moves closer and wraps his arm and Clint and I.

“Where’d Kate go?” I ask.

“She called America for a portal home,” Clint says.

“I didn’t mean to chase her off,” I mumble.

“You didn’t.” Bucky kisses my forehead. “She thought you needed someone to stick around with you for a couple of days, but didn’t realize that you’ve already got us.”

“I’m sensing something else happened.”

Clint laughs. “We gently explained that she stressed you the fuck out showing up like she did. She doesn’t always think before she does stuff like that, so she didn’t see it at first.”

“I did kind of ignore her though. Probably shouldn’t’ve done that.”

“You didn’t ignore her. You kind of go into your own little world when you’re working.” He pauses for a moment and presses his forehead to the back of my neck. “Kind of worries us sometimes.”

“Oh.” Clint’s arms tighten around me and I look at Bucky to see if he feels the same. He just nods. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bucky murmurs.

“But I do. And I’m sorry if I’ve been distant since we got back home, and I’m sure I have. I talked to my clients, and they were really understanding about the situation, but I’m still almost three weeks behind on my workload.” I sigh. “That’s not a good excuse, but I’ve just been so swamped that I’ve barely had any room to think about anything else.”

Bucky closes his eyes, and sighs. I can see the tension leave his body, and Clint’s hold on me relaxes. I reach back with my left hand and gently comb my fingers through Clint’s hair and take Bucky’s hand with my right. Bucky meets my eyes and I silently ask him to explain.

“We were worried that something about the barn was still messing with your head,” Bucky says. He squeezes my hand and holds it to his chest. “I know what that’s like, and I’d never want you to go through that alone.”

“Oh, Buck…” Clint mumbles something much to the same effect against my neck. “I didn’t mean to worry you. Either of you.”

“We’re always gonna worry about you, (Y/N),” Clint says. “We-I…”

Bucky finishes Clint’s sentence, saying, “We’re always gonna worry about you, because we love you.”

“You… me?” Bucky nods and I quickly sit up and look between both of them. “Both of you?”

“Yeah,” Clint rolls onto his back and looks up at me. “Both of us.”

“Oh.”

“We were literally talking about how to tell you when we were at the tower earlier.”

“We weren’t expecting an opportunity so soon, though,” Bucky adds.

“What about you two?” I ask, voice small.

They look at each other and smile.

“We love each other,” Bucky says. “And we have for a long time, but we’re not complete if our relationship doesn’t include you.”

“You’re our missing piece.” Clint shrugs. “I don’t know if there’s much to say past that.”

“Oh.” They’re quick to reassure me that they don’t want to pressure me into anything. I just laugh and shush them. “No, that’s not it. I’m just surprised.”

Clint frowns. “Really?”

“I mean… I didn’t doubt that you two loved me before, I guess I just didn’t want to assume that it was more than what we’d already expressed.” I sit back on my heels and sigh. “But more than that I just… when we were leaving the compound, it really hit me how much I love you two. How much being with you and having you in my life means to me, after everything we’ve been through.”

Bucky nods. “We just don’t wanna be quiet about it anymore.”

“I don’t either. But ever since I met the two of you, you’ve been my closest friends, and I…” I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. “I guess, I-I just don’t want any of this to change our relationship.”

Bucky props himself up on one elbow and covers my hands with his. “Nothing needs to change. Things are perfect the way they are.”

“I mean… it’d be kind of be nice to kiss you,” Clint mumbles.

“I think that kind of goes without saying,” Bucky says.

I laugh. “I dunno, that’s a pretty big change.” Both men freeze and I laugh harder. “I never said no.”

Clint grins and quickly sits up. He looks between Bucky and I and Bucky just shakes his head.

“Don’t look at me,” he says. “You gotta ask her.”

Clint shakes his head. “Right, I know.”

I reached out and ran the back of my finger over his cheek before cupping his jaw in my hand. His expression softens and he slowly leans in and presses his forehead to mine. Bucky laces his fingers with mine and I tilt my head to the side to press my lips to Clint’s. He readily responds, gently kissing me back, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare me off. I pull away and peck him once more on the lips. Clint wraps his arm around my middle and ducks his head to kiss my neck. I laugh and shiver at the feeling of his stubble against my skin.

“How was it?” Bucky asks.

“It felt right,” I answer. I meet his eyes and he smiles. “Kind of like we’ve been doing it the whole time.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him and he laughs. “You want a turn?”

He sits up fully and places his hand on the back of my neck. “Of course.”

He traces his thumb along my jaw and I lean into his touch. Bucky leans in and bumps his nose against mine before brushing our lips together. I let out a shaky breath when he does it again and tip my head up to kiss him. He smiles against my lips and I hum softly. When he pulls away, he brushes his thumb over my cheek and smiles in the way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corner.

“That was nice,” I murmur.

“It was.”

“Definitely looked like it,” Clint says.

I laugh and Bucky wraps his arms around Clint and I. Somehow, they manage to comfortably situate me on both of their laps. I enclose the three of us in my wings and slowly relax into the warmth of their arms. Clint and Bucky figure out a way to kiss me at the same time, which only results in the three of us laughing.

Eventually we get too tired to stay upright and we collapse in a pile on the bed. Bucky pulls the covers up over us and slips his hand under my shirt to splay across the small of my back, just under Clint’s.

“I love you,” Clint mumbles.

“Me too,” Bucky says. “Both of you.”

My heart swells and I blanket them with my wings. “I love you, too.”

“G’night, (Y/N).”

“G’night,” I murmur.

My eyes grow too heavy to keep open and I drift off to sleep, wrapped up in Clint and Bucky’s arms.

I promised a happy ending, and here we are! I won’t lie, I’m kind of in love with this chapter, and I feel like it ends the series really nicely.

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This fic:

“Even so-”

“What the hell is this about?” I cut in. “Because I was under the impression that this meeting concerned myself and the Avengers alone. Not you and your little government issued lackeys.”

“You’re awful hostile for someone speaking to her superior,” he ground out.

“Who, me?” I glance around at everyone in the room. “I’m a civilian and the Avengers are a private organization. I don’t work for you, Ross. None of us do.”

“You will,” he says. “When the Accords are put into governmental procedure.”

“See, I don’t know if you’re ever going to make headway with that little project of yours.” I shuffled around in my seat before leaning on the table. “Considering the fact that you refuse to work with one of the biggest players in this, who knows how many signatures you’ll get.”

“To what do we owe the displeasure, Thaddeus?” Tony asks.

Ross’ eye twitches. “You missed your deadline.”

“We were a little preoccupied in finding (Y/N),” Steve says. “As she said, she was kidnapped. You would know this if you’d read any of the correspondence we sent you concerning this.”

“And we wouldn’t be in this position if you’d quit running in circles and rejecting any kind of amendments we suggest,” Bucky adds. “We’ve been trying to work with you on this for months, yet you never seem to be able to make up your mind on what you want from us.”

“He wants complete and total control over the Avengers,” I say.

“Excuse me?” Ross grinds out.

“I said, you want to control the Avengers,” I repeat. I look to Natasha. “Did I stutter? I don’t think I stuttered.”

“Not that I heard,” she says.

I look Ross dead in the eye. “Do you need me to speak up? Or would it be helpful if I just signed instead?”

“(Y/N),” Steve warns.

I glare at Ross, but sit back in my chair. “Sorry.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Steve says. “But I don’t want you to say anything incriminating.”

I simply nod and keep quiet. Steve gestures to Tony, who stands to face General Ross.

“We weren’t planning on announcing this today, but we’ve given your proposal some serious thought, and we’ve decided to turn you down,” Tony says.

“You’re what?!” Ross hisses. “You can’t do that!”

“Can’t we? Because we’ve been operating independently for the past two years, and things seem to be going just fine. The only major incident we’ve dealt with since Sokovia-”

Ross interjects, “Which was your fault, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Shut the fuck up, Thaddeus,” I snap. “You don’t get to interrupt people just because you’re a General.”

Clint snorts and I squeeze his knee in a silent plea for him to be quiet.

Tony clears his throat. “As I was saying, the only incident we’ve dealt with since Sokiva has been (Y/N)’s kidnapping. And we managed to find her just fine, no thanks to you.”

“And,” Natasha says. “If I’m remembering correctly, we’ve been fully functional since S.H.I.E.L.D. went under, even without asking for any assistance from the likes of you.” She tilts her head to the side and folds her arms. “And yet you expect us to just hand ourselves over to you.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“No,” I say. “I think we understand perfectly. You think that the Avengers have too much power. The only way that you can see to ensure no one gets hurt is to put a leash on them. And I can see where you’re coming from, and your care for the public, if you can even call it that, is commendable. But this ass backwards, roundabout route you’re taking is absolutely fucking absurd.”

“You said you’re not part of this team!”

“I did, but I never said I didn’t have any kind of stake in whether or not the Accords are approved. I have powers, remember? I’m directly affected by whatever kind of legislation is put in place because of those Accords. But you could never understand that, because you’ve only ever seen people like us as power hungry egomaniacs. But look around.” I gesture to the room. “No one here asked for what we got. Bruce and I were accidents, Steve was a scientific crapshoot, regardless of how successful, Bucky was kidnapped and brainwashed and experimented on without his consent, Natasha and Clint’s backgrounds are questionable at best, and Tony was blown up by his own bomb. His first suit was built out of necessity, not curiosity or the need to seize power.”

“(Y/N)...” Bucky murmurs. He takes my hand and squeezes it gently.

“By all means, work with the Avengers. But quit acting like you’ve got the moral high ground, because all you've done is set up roadblocks and refuse to compromise in any capacity."

Ross looks down his nose at me. "You've got a lot of opinions for someone so vehemently against being part of their team."

"Well, you’re ready to imprison any single powered person who doesn’t sign, simply because you deem us to be threats.” I narrow my eyes. "But last I checked, you can't arrest someone for having opinions."

"Maybe not, but you certainly seem to know more about the Accords than what's been made available to the public-"

"We've kept her up to date with the proceedings," Steve says. "She has every right to know about something that would change the way she lives her life."

"That's not a decision for you to make."

Steve simply shrugs. "You never said anything about our discussions being confidential."

“Why you-”

“You do see the position you’ve put us in, right?” Steve presses. “We’re trying to work out ways to protect our loved ones, powers or no, and still do our jobs, but you keep blocking every single suggestion we make. You want us to cooperate, but you make it impossible.”

“You say that as if you’re not trying to bend the Accords to work for you.”

“No,” Tony says. “That’s what you’re doing. Your unwillingness to collaborate with just proves (Y/N) right. You don’t want to work with us. You want to control us. Because we’re not predictable, and that scares you and your little government buddies.”

Steve rises from his seat and stares Ross down. “See, we’d be happy to work with you. But that means working with us.”

Ross tries to protest, but shuts his mouth when Bucky stands abruptly. Bucky’s glare can only be described as glacial. No one says a word.

Ross shifts closer to Steve and Natasha shoots up from her chair. Clint, Tony, and I follow suit. I shake out my wings to make myself look bigger than I am and squint at General Ross. He’s startled to find all of us resisting him and turns back to Steve, only to find him with a similarly cold expression and his arms folded across his chest.

“If you’re not going to work with us,” Steve says. “I suggest you leave.”

“Fine.” He looks around the room at each of us. “But I will be back.”

“Until you’re ready to compromise, you’re not welcome,” Tony quips. “But we’ll gladly escort you out.”

Ross seems to know he’s been beat and makes a hasty retreat. His lackeys follow him from the conference room and down the hallway, back to whatever they arrived in. When I’m sure they’re gone, I sink back into my seat and cover my face with my hands. My heart is beating out of my chest and every ache from two days earlier is back with a vengeance.

“Are you okay?” Clint asks, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I nod and turn to press my face to his shoulder. “Too much excitement for one day, that’s all.”

Clint hums in agreement. “I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.”

I laugh. “Of course he won’t, he got stared down by a room full of Avengers. He probably shat himself as soon as Nat stood up.”

“Of course he did,” Clint grins at Natasha. “She’s terrifying.”

Natasha snorts and Clint tries to make another joke to actually make her laugh. Steve watches them and I wait till I can catch his eye to say something.

“Is it safe to assume that wasn’t part of the plan today?” I ask.

Steve sighs. “No, it wasn’t.” He glares at the door. “General Ross seems to have a bad habit of showing up when he’s least wanted.”

“And ignoring anything he doesn’t want to hear,” Tony adds. “I swear, we sent him at least three notices about the delay, and he just ignored every single one of them.”

“You seriously put off negotiations to find me?”

“Of course we did, (Y/N),” Tony says. “You’re family. You know what we do for family.”

I frown. “Drop everything.”

“Exactly.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, we did.” Bucky takes my hand. “We weren’t going to leave you behind after everything we did to find you last time.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I blink them away and whisper, “Thank you. All of you. Really.”

“There’s nothing to thank us for,” Natasha says. “Don’t argue with me about this.”

I laugh, but sniffle a moment later. “Okay, I won’t.”

“You wanna tell us why you actually wanted to meet?” Clint asks.

“Right,” Steve shifts in his seat. “We believe that we’ve apprehended everyone involved with your kidnapping, (Y/N). They’ll be tried and probably sentenced before the end of the month.”

“Oh, wow.” Surprised, I look between Steve and Tony. “I forgot how quickly you work.”

“We put in a rush order for our favorite Sesame Street character,” Tony says.

I laugh. “So I’m Big Bird now?”

“Well, you’re smart, you care about your friends and family, and you’re nice. Well…” He gestures vaguely. “Most of the time.”

“I’ll take it.”

Tony hums. “I started looking into Hoffman’s research, and it’s pretty grim stuff.”

“Oh?”

“A lot about genetic mutation and splicing animal DNA with human. From what Banner and I have found, she’d been doing this for a long time, and getting away with it, too. Based on her notes from the last five years, you’re her most successful experiment, and she didn’t even know you existed until six months ago.” He sighs. “I won’t go into too much detail, but the plans she had… she’s bad news in every sense of the phrase.”

“I got lucky, then.”

“I didn’t want to say that, but yeah. You did.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). You shouldn’t’ve been mixed up in any of this in the first place.”

“It’s not your fault. She would’ve caught up to me eventually. It’s not like ten foot wings are easy to hide.”

“All of that aside,” Steve says. “They’ll be going away for a long time. The rest of their lives, if we can manage it. They won’t be able to get to you ever again.”

I nod. “What’ll you do about Ross?”

“If we can manage it, we’ll keep pushing for reformed Accords. None of us want to be limited in what we can do, but it was easier to operate when we had the power of a government agency or two to back us up.” Steve shrugs. “If he can’t agree to that, we won’t be signing.”

“And you’re all cool with that?”

Tony nods. “We’ve argued over this for months, and getting your insight as someone on the outside helped as well. We’re not backing down from this.”

“Good. There’s no reason to roll over just because some dickhead bully demands it. He needs your support on this. He’s blind if he can’t see that.”

“Our thoughts exactly,” Steve says.

“Has she been cleared to go home yet, though?” Clint asks.

Steve nods. “She’s good to go as early as tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” Clint says, his relief obvious in his voice. “Simone has to go out of town on Saturday and without her, there’s no one left to dog-sit.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and Tony makes makes a joke about Clint’s loyalties lying elsewhere. I can’t pay attention to any of it, though. My thoughts keep straying back to what it’ll be like to be back in my apartment and away from the rest of the team. I can’t help thinking that it’ll be a little more peaceful, especially with the constant sounds of the settling apartment building around me.

Bucky squeezes my hand and I shake the fog from my head. “Hm?”

“You okay?”

I try to reassure him with a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to plan what we need to do to get ready to go tomorrow.”

“We’ll head out bright ‘n early tomorrow. Okay?” I nod and he kisses my forehead.

“You’re sitting in the back, Clint.”

“What? You know I get carsick.”

“You don’t get carsick, you just don’t like the legroom in the back.”

“Can’t help that, Bucky, I’m a tall guy!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You know (Y/N) needs the front seat. She can’t sit normally because of her wings.”

Clint scowls. “Then let me drive.”

“Hell no, you’re a nightmare behind the wheel.”

“You’re no fun!” I clear my throat and both men look to me and smile. “Hey! You’re finally up.”

I shake my head. “I was up an hour ago, I just wanted to make sure I had everything.”

“Oh, right.” Clint strides across the driveway and takes my bag from me. “We were just-”

“Squabbling,” I laugh. “I know. It’s what you two do best sometimes.”

“We can do other things too,” he mumbles.

Bucky shakes his head and joins Clint and I. “Ignore him. He’s just grumpy because someone called about a burst pipe in the basement.”

“Oh shit.” Clint scratches the back of his neck and I place my hand on his arm. “Have you called someone yet?”

“Yeah, they already showed up, but it won’t be a cheap fix.”

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure. We can get it sorted out when we get back, right?” He nods and wanders off to pack up the car.

Bucky hooks his arm around my waist and I tilt my head up to kiss his cheek. “You’re looking better this morning,” he says.

“I slept really well last night. Probably has something to do with you two.”

“You give us too much credit, (Y/N).”

“I don’t think you give yourselves enough.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I’ll go get the car set up.”

“Okay. I’ll be over in a minute.”

I stand back and watch them move around the car. Clint scoops up two more duffel bags, I assume they’re his and Bucky’s, from beside the car and places them in the trunk. Bucky puts the passenger seat down and I can see him roll his eyes when Clint sidles up beside him and says something close to his ear. Clint laughs when Bucky pinches his side and I can’t help smiling.

It suddenly hits me how thankful I am that I have both of them. I don’t know what I would do without them, or even where I’d be right now if they weren’t in my life.

My smile slowly slips away as I realize that I love them. Different from when we first met and more than I did when I left.

My heart flutters and I press my fingers to my lips, just letting the realization wash over me. I’m not scared. Just peaceful. This feels right.

“You okay, (Y/N)?”

I refocus and meet Clint’s eyes. “Hm?”

“You were zoning out,” he says. “Are you feeling alright?”

I smile. “I’m good. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?”

I nod and approach the car. “Mhm.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. “Okay, good.”

“Help me into the car?”

“Of course.” He grins and gestures to the open passenger door. “Your chariot awaits.”

----------

Part 12

How’s that for an ending? I’m pretty fond of it, personally. I promise this isn’t the grand ending, but we’re getting close, I think. But for now, we know that the reader loves her boys, and that’s what really matters.

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This fic:

“I don’t… is she the woman from the barn?” He nods. “Right. I only knew her as the Doctor. No one used real names and I didn’t bother asking for any, but that doesn’t matter. Dr. Hoffman is the reason that I have wings.”

Clint appears beside the bed. “Wait, you fell into her vat of toxic waste?”

“From what she said, yeah, I think so.” I reach over my shoulder and scratch at my left wing. “There were others like me at one point, but I think they’re dead. She probably found them long before me, partially because I wasn’t supposed to exist.”

“How so?”

“I fell into a vat of whatever was leftover from her initial experiments, I think. That’s how I got my wings. She didn’t have an answer when her lackey asked when I was made.” He opened his mouth, but closed it immediately. “What?”

“What’d she do to you? And why?”

“Steve,” Bucky warns. “That’s enough,”

“It’s fine, Buck, I’d rather talk about it than keep it bottled up. Besides,” I reach out and he grabs my hand. “Considering I’m not dead, I probably got off easy. The rest weren’t so lucky.”

“Okay.” He sits beside me on the bed and envelopes my hand in both of his. “You can stop any time.”

“I know,” I murmur. He kisses the side of my head and I smile. Steve clears his throat and I cough awkwardly. “Anyway… the Doctor was incredibly clinical about everything right up until the last few days, but I think she freaked out after a couple guards saw Clint and Bucky lurking around. That was about when they belted down my wings and started actually leaving marks when they hit me. Partially my fault, if I’m being honest.”

“None of that was your fault, (Y/N).”

I nod. “Mm, yeah, except when I punched a guard in the eye and then intentionally egged them on.”

“Why would you do that?!”

“I don’t know! I was tired of being manhandled and jabbed with needles and dragged hither and yon at every hour of the day. When they were told to hit me, something took over and I told them to not puss out.” I laugh before realizing how morbid it sounds. “Stupid as it is, this really isn’t the worst I’ve been hurt. They didn’t really try all that hard when they came at me.”

“That’s still not okay,” Steve says.

“No, I know that. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but they hadn’t gotten a single reaction out of me that they wanted since the first day. Their bark was entirely bigger than their bite.” I lean against Bucky and he sighs. “But in that moment, I realized that you’d found me. It was just a matter of time until you got me out of there.”

“Didn’t figure you’d be in Michigan,” Bucky mutters.

I rub my hand up and down his arm. “Still.”

“Was there anything else you learned about Hoffman?” Steve asks.

“No. I was unconscious during most of the tests. She didn’t want me moving around while she worked. Why?”

Steve shakes his head. “Everything we’ve been able to dig up on her leads back to A.I.M., but after that it’s a dead end.”

“Well that would make sense. A.I.M. focussed on genetics for a long time, right? Aldrich Killian weaponized it, but I doubt he was the first one in the agency to do so.”

“You’re right, but Hoffman hasn’t been associated with A.I.M. for almost twenty years.”

“Even better for her, right? If she’s not under their roof, no one can hover while she experiments on, and inevitably mutilate and kill, live, human specimens. Being out on her own was probably the best thing that happened to her.”

“That… that makes a lot of sense.”

“She probably dragged a bunch of disgraced A.I.M. grunts along with her when she left.”

“She did, actually. There were a handful of private contractors in her crew, but just about everyone has ties to A.I.M..”

“What about that wiry, ratty-looking guy?”

“We’re still looking into him. We don’t have an ID yet, but we do know he was weirdly strong.”

“What if he’s one of her experiments?” I ask. “He seemed to be really close to her, not in the way that an evil boss and henchman are close.”

Steve nods. “You’re probably right, I’ll make a note of that.”

“Thank you.”

Suddenly very tired, I lean heavily against Bucky. I shiver and he wraps his arm around my middle.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod and mumble, “Just really, really tired.”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave and promises to get back to me with any new information he has before I’m released. I thank him and he quickly disappears out into the hall. Only when the doors close does Bucky help me lay down. He lays beside me and Clint drags a chair up to the side of the bed. He pouts and complains about the hospital bed being too small.

I laugh. “It’s stupid uncomfortable, Clint, You don’t wanna be up here anyway.”

“No, I really think I do,” he counters. “Bucky’s been hogging you since we got you back. I’m just waiting my turn.”

“Aw,” I poke Bucky’s stomach and he grabs my hand. “You couldn’t let him cuddle with me for a little bit?”

Bucky shrugs. “The bed’s uncomfortable. He’d hate it.”

“We could probably move to one of our rooms, if we wanted,” Clint suggests. “The beds would be more than big enough for the three of us.”

“Wouldn’t we get in trouble?” I ask, looking between Clint and Bucky.

Bucky glances over his shoulder at Clint, who gives him a pleading look. “I’m sure it’d be fine. We just have to be careful with you and keep an eye on your injuries.”

I nod. "Okay, let's do it, then."

I look up in time to see a grin flash across Clint's face before he can tamp down his excitement. He takes his time moving his chair back to the edge of the room and fiddling with something on the couch. Bucky helps me sit up, but refuses to let me walk to the room. Instead, he loops my arms around his neck and picks me up. He wraps my arms around his waist and signals to Clint that we’re ready to go.

"You got her bag?" Bucky asks.

"Of course I do."

"My bag?"

"I drove back into the city after we got you back and packed up some things I thought you might need," Clint explains. "Just some clothes and your tooth brush, but you can't wear a hospital gown the rest of your life."

"Thanks, Clint." I reach out and he takes my hand. "I really appreciate that."

He smiles and kisses the back of my hand. “Thought you might.”

Bucky’s room is closest and he uses me to lead Clint down the hallway, gently pulling him along by our linked hands. The three of us bundle through the doorway and Clint drops my bag in the chair next to the dresser. Bucky allows me to stand on my own and I move to sift through the bag on the chair.

I find a pair of soft leggings and immediately put them on in place of the thin boxers I was provided. I pull one of my shirts from the bag and stare at it, knowing full well that I won’t be able to wear it. It’s too tight and would rub against my still too sensitive skin. I sigh and let it fall back into the bag.

Clint places a gentle hand on my waist and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t wear my shirts. They’re too tight to get on with my injuries.”

“That’s not a problem,” Bucky says.

He pulls one of his shirts from his dresser and cuts two slits down the back from neck to hem. Clint helps me out of the hospital gown and I readjust the straps of my sports-bra before taking the altered shirt from Bucky. I yank the neck over my head and slowly slip my hands through the arms.

“Where’d you get this?” I ask. “It’s huge.”

Bucky shrugs. “Big shirts are more comfortable to sleep in.” He lifts the middle flap from my right wing, positions it between my shoulder blades, and ties the slits off at the hem. “Is that comfortable?”

I shake out my wings and nod. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

I crawl into the unmade bed and lay on my left side. With one eye closed and the other slightly cracked, I watch Bucky change into a pair of sweats. Clint simply strips off his jeans and climbs onto the bed with me. He pulls me to his chest and pulls the covers up to my chin. Bucky slides in beside me and places his hand on my back. Clint rolls us slightly so that Bucky can press closer without crushing my wings. Clint’s hand presses between my wings while Bucky’s arm snakes around my middle. His hand splays out over my stomach and his warmth practically seeps into my skin.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Bucky asks.

I nod. “I’m just sore now, for the most part.”

“Tell us where it hurts?”

“Pretty much everything from the waist up,” I say. “I think my arms got overextended when they chained me up.”

“I’m so sorry,” Clint murmurs.

“Sometimes it still feels like my wings are strapped down.” I sigh and scrub one hand over my face. “It’s hard to sleep when you guys aren’t there.”

Their arms tighten around me, but neither of them speak. With Clint and Bucky tangled around me, I feel so safe and secure that I can finally just relax. The silence that blankets the room is soothing instead of stifling. There’s no urge to explain away the pain or make excuses.

Bucky kisses the back of my neck and I cover his hand with mine. My body grows heavy and I slowly drift off to sleep.

The door slams open startling the three of us awake. I grip Bucky’s hand and both Clint and Bucky’s arms tighten around me.

“Bucky, she’s gone.”

It’s Steve.

“The hell are you talking about, Rogers?” I manage to say.

“But you-”

“Medbay is cold and silent. It’s easier to sleep here, with them.”

“We’ve got new intel, he says, breezing past what I just said.

“Okay?” I try to bury my head in the pillows. “It can wait till tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Go away, Steve,” Bucky says. “She needs her rest.”

“Yeah, Steve,” Clint muffles his snicker against the pillow. “Go away. She’ll find you tomorrow.”

Steve sighs. “Fine.”

He retreats and the door closes.

Bucky sighs and grumbles something about “getting out of here asap.”

“Steve said I’d be cleared before the end of the week,” I mumble. “I’ll bother him about it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is twelve hours away,” Clint says.

“No,” I poke his stomach and he laughs. “Tomorrow is whenever I can haul myself out of bed, and there’s no telling when that’ll be.”

“Mm, you’re hilarious,” he says dryly.

“It’s why you keep me around, right?”

Bucky snorts. “Go to sleep.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You know that’s not why we keep you around.”

“But it’s one reason?”

“It’s a bonus.”

“Hmm,” I trace my thumb over Bucky’s knuckles. “An acceptable answer.”

“Sleep, (Y/N),” Clint mumbles. “We’re not gonna go anywhere.”

“Okay.” I nod, yawn, and press my nose to his chest. “Okay.”

-----------

Part 11

Finally, finally we can get away from the Hardcore Sad Times and back to interacting with Clint and Bucky (which I think is pretty great, just for my own peace of mind lmao.)

Anyhow, I’d love to see your reactions! I always like knowing what you guys thought, so please comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

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“Alright.” Bucky nods. “Then we act now, before they can do anything to prepare for us.”

“Move fast, hit ‘em hard.” Steve nods once. “Understood.”

“Alright.” Clint looks around at the group. “Let’s do this.”

“No one is coming for you.”

“Okay,” I say simply.

My answer is rewarded with a slap across my face and I just let my head fall forward. My chin hits my chest and my eyes close of their own accord. I want nothing more than to curl into a ball and sleep, but the chains around my wrists keep me held up against the wall like some kind of bastardized crucifix.

“You’re ours,” the Doctor declares. She paces in front of me, but I can’t bring myself to look at her. “I will complete my research, and you’re going to help me do it.”

She slaps me again when I don’t say anything. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. She didn’t want me to fight back when she initially captured me, but was intrigued when I did the day before. When I talk back, she hits me. When I don’t react at all, she hits me. There’s no winning with this woman.

My legs begin to give out and the chains around my wrists start to dig in when they’re forced to hold up more weight. I wince and do what I can to keep my feet underneath my body, but I barely have the energy to lift my head.

Someone rushes into the barn and the Doctor stops pacing. They rattle off something that sounds urgent, that needs the Doctor’s immediate attention, but I can’t seem to focus on their words. She shifts back towards me momentarily and I turn my face away from her and squeeze my eyes shut. She makes a frustrated noise before hurrying out into the hallway, grunt in tow.

I give myself a moment to breathe before I try to stand at my full height. My legs shake, but I have just enough time to get a firm grip on the chains and wrap them around my hands once. With just that small adjustment, I can support myself better, even if I can’t fully stand, and the cuffs don’t dig into my wrists the way they did before.

There’s a shout from the hallway, followed by muffled thuds and groans. A herd of thugs thunder past the door. One voice stands out against the rest of the noise, barking out orders, only to be cut off by a distant explosion. A gun fires and I flinch.

Steve, Natasha, and Sam sneak into the main building, careful to not draw attention to themselves. Clint and Bucky don’t waste time with any kind of subtlety.

Clint blasts a hole into the side of the main building with an explosive arrow and Bucky moves through the rubble before the smoke clears. As soon as Clint joins Bucky, they're surrounded by goons. Bucky makes a mental note of the lack of identifying patches on their uniforms before he smacks one of them with the stock of his rifle and throws another into the wall. The man leaves a dent in the plaster and falls to the linoleum in a heap.

Clint takes down large clumps of men with net and putty arrows at the end of the hall opposite their destination. When he's finished, he joins Bucky in mowing through the guards blocking the way to the barn. They're not particularly careful as they go, not paying much attention to the force they use. They're more concerned with getting to (Y/N) than they are with the health of the people who kidnapped her.

They work quickly and methodically until no one is left standing. Clint signals to Bucky when he finds an open door, right about where they initially guessed the barn would be. They freeze as soon as they step through the door.

(Y/N) is strung up by her arms, barely able to keep herself standing. Clint cautiously approaches and finds her face turned away from them, her eyes squeezed shut. He glances back at Bucky, who looks like he wants to throw up, and his stomach clenches. He takes another step towards (Y/N).

“(Y/N),” he says softly. “Open your eyes.”

“Clint?” she croaks.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me. Bucky’s here too.”

Her eyes flutter open and she looks around the barn. Her grip on the chains tightens when she sees her boys. She shakes her head and presses her back against the wall.

“You’re not really here,” she whispers.

“We are,” he says. “I promise we are.”

Clint reaches out and brushes away the tear that’s rolled down her cheek. (Y/N) doesn’t flinch away from his touch like he thought she would. Instead, she presses her cheek to his hand and her bottom lip begins to tremble.

Clint motions for Bucky to come closer, and he slowly approaches, scared that he’ll spook (Y/N) if he’s too loud.

“We’re gonna get you outta here,” Bucky says softly.

He crouches down and breaks the chains at her ankles so that Clint can pick her up and relieve the stress on her wrists. Bucky then snaps the chains on both wrists and her arms fall around Clint’s neck. Bucky reaches up and ghosts his fingertips over her cheek and she blinks. They watch as she slowly realizes that they really have come for her and her face crumples. She covers her mouth with her and as she begins to cry and she presses her forehead to Clint’s chest.

“Come on.” Bucky turns to the door and Clint follows. “We’re leaving.”

“What about Steve, Sam, and Nat?”

“They can catch up.”

“They’re here?” (Y/N) asks. The scratchiness of her voice breaks Clint’s heart.

“Yeah, they helped us find you,” Clint explains.

"Oh." She takes a shaky breath and reaches out to Bucky. "Thank you."

Bucky takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "Nothing to thank us for. We should've been here sooner."

Her head falls back to Clint's chest and all three of them bundle out to the hallway.

Leaving the facility is easy compared to getting in. Every single man they took out on the way in is still in a heap on the floor as they move through the hallway. Clint's arms tighten around (Y/N) as they near their exit point. As soon as they're clear, Clint and Bucky sprint back to the quinjet.

They slow as they reach the line of trees that hide the jet from sight. Bucky lifts his rifle and steps into the brush first. When he knows the coast is clear, he signals for Clint to follow. They lift the ramp as soon as they’re inside. Clint takes a seat with (Y/N) in his lap. He looks up when Bucky makes a sound akin to a growl and finds him with a knife in his hand.

“Bucky?”

“They put belts around her wings,” Bucky grinds out. He kneels at Clint’s feet and pulls one of the straps away from her feathers. She whimpers. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but I gotta get these off.”

(Y/N) just nods and presses her face to Clint’s chest. She presses her fist to her mouth to muffle her noises of discomfort as Bucky saws through the leather. As soon as he tosses the third and final strap to the side, Bucky takes a seat beside Clint and (Y/N) lets her head fall to his shoulder. He places his hand on the back of her neck and kisses the top of her head before tracing over her jaw with his thumb.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he murmurs.

She just shakes her head and loops her arm around his. “S’fine. Kind of my fault.”

“None of this is your fault,” Clint says. “You should’ve been home, safe.”

“But now I’m safe with you.” She grabs Clint’s hand and squeezes gently. “I knew you’d find me.”

Clint and Bucky look at each over her head. Bucky lets out a shaky breath and Clint nods, confirming that he feels the same. Relieved to have her back, but devastated seeing what she’s gone through.

Bucky’s earpiece crackles to life and he presses his finger to, saying, “What is it?”

“Where are you?”

“We’re on the jet. We found (Y/N) and got out of there.”

“Is she alright?” Steve asks.

“She’s injured and exhausted,” Bucky says. He kisses her forehead and she shifts against him. “But she’s alive.”

“Good. We’re just about finished here. Natasha and I are gonna stay behind and wait for reinforcements. We’ll join you upstate once we’ve rounded everyone up.”

“What about Sam?”

“He’ll be flying back with you.” Steve pauses and Bucky hears a heavy thud. “Did you really have to throw them into walls?”

“They were in our way.”

Steve sighs. “Sam’s on his way to meet you. I’m glad she’s safe.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“We’ll see you at the compound.”

The line goes dead and Bucky pockets the earpiece. He relays everything to Clint who simply nods.

By the time Sam makes it back to the quinjet, (Y/N) has fallen asleep and Bucky and Clint are finally starting to relax. They begin to doze as the jet rumbles to life.

I dozed off, somehow. My entire body is sore, and I can’t find the energy to move, but the quiet beeping edging into my consciousness is telling me to wake up. In spite of this, it still takes me several minutes to force my eyes open.

When I manage to crack open one eye, I find that the room is dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner. There’s a couch next to the lamp where Clint and Bucky are fast asleep. Clint has Bucky tucked under his arm and his head is tipped back against the wall as he snores softly. Bucky, with his head on Clint’s chest, has folded his arms and is scowling in his sleep.

Watching the two of them sleep, a feeling of peace washes through me. Clint shifts in his sleep and Bucky presses closer to his side and I smile. I wish I could be over there with them, but just being in the same room is enough for me right now.

I pull the thin blanket up, over my shoulders and hug my arms to my chest, careful to avoid the IV tube. The sounds of their deep, steady breathing lulls me back to sleep.

I wake again later, feeling significantly better than I had before. My back still aches, but I suspect it will for a while due to the abuse my wings took and the time that they were strapped down.

I stretch my arms out in front of me and then scrub my hands over my face.

With my eyes still closed I call out, “Bucky?”

Receiving no answer, I open my eyes and glance around the room, only to find it empty. The lamp in the corner is still the only light on in the room, and my eyes adjust easily. I sigh and slowly sit up. I can’t straighten my back fully yet, but leaning forward slightly allows me to extend my wings and stretch out my back. I stretch my wings out to their full length and I’m surprised when there’s no tug on my feathers.

I wrap my right wing around and am shocked to see that the tar that had covered the primary feathers is gone. I reach around to the left side and find nothing but soft feathers. Even better than clean feathers, none of them are missing. I remember when the Doctor had suggested trimming the tar from my feathers and knowing that wasn’t ultimately necessary almost reduces me to tears.

The sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway makes me freeze. I peek around my wing and wait.

“(Y/N)?” Bucky stands in the doorway, looking like he’s about to drop the phone in his hand. I shift towards the edge of the bed and he darts into the room. “Don’t move, you’re still hurt.”

I nod, but still turn myself to face him and fold my legs underneath myself. He slowly approaches, almost as if he’s worried about spooking me. He stops just short of the bed, and my fingers twitch with the need to have him just a little closer. Close enough to touch. To hold his hand. I reach out to him and curl my fingers into the hem of his shirt and tug him slightly closer. I hesitate a moment before taking his hand. Bucky readily weaves his fingers with mine and lifts our linked hands to kiss my knuckles.

“Please stay with me,” I whisper.

“Of course I will,” he says. He carefully takes my face in his hands and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. He pulls away and swipes his thumb over my cheek. “Of course I will, sweetheart.”

He pulls up a chair and sits beside the bed. He tells me to leave the IV alone and I laugh.

“I haven’t touched it, Buck.”

“Good. You need those fluids.”

“I know.” I squeeze his hands. A shadow appears in the doorway and I glance up and smile. “Clint.”

“You’re awake!” He drags a chair across the room with him and plants himself next to Bucky, only to immediately stand up again. “I wanna hug you so bad.”

I glance between Clint and Bucky, Bucky smiles and nods. I push myself up on my knees and wrap my arms around Clint’s shoulders. His arms circle around my middle and he presses his nose to my shoulder.

“I missed you so much,” I murmur.

“We missed you too,” he says. “We were so worried. I’m sorry it took us so long.”

“You found me.” I comb my fingers through his hair. “Just like I knew you would.”

“You left a note,” Bucky wraps his arms around Clint and I. “We knew you wouldn’t run off again.”

“Never.” I pull away to look at them. “Never again. You’re stuck with me.”

-----------

Part 10

So, how about that happy ending? That’s not the end of it, I promise, but it’s a good start. No more hurting anyone from now on, I promise.

That being said, I’d love to hear about your reactions! I always like knowing what you guys thought, so please comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwihtasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​

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