https://archiveofourown.org/series/65723 Instructions for Assembly (Some Parts Sold Separately), MCU & Young Avengers, Tony/Pepper/Steve Billy/Teddy Kate/Tommy, Number of Works 7 , WIP

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882845/chapters/4056459 For you, I'd wait 'til kingdom come, Spideypool Steve/Tony Harry/Gwen, Complete

https://archiveofourown.org/series/426973 Peter Parker's Home for the Wayward Villain, A series of AU-ish fics centered around Peter and the various Marvel villains he adopts, Spideypool Stucky and other pairings, WIP, Number of Works 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2737832/chapters/6135923 The Health Benefits and Damages of Being an Avenger, Clint/Phil Peter/Wade, WIP

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6132700/chapters/14053726 Wingless, Peter/Wade Pepper/Tony, Wingfic, WIP

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494792/chapters/19467136 Zero Summer, MCU & Young Avengers, Bucky/Steve Riley/Sam Teddy/Billy Kate/America, WIP

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10067948/chapters/22435160 There's A Million Things I Haven't Done, MCU & Young Avengers, Teddy/Billy, WIP

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8026210/chapters/18377527 Lost Boys, MCU & Young Avengers & House of M, Teddy/Billy, WIP

https://archiveofourown.org/series/284166 Assembly Line (or Why It's a Lot Harder than Steve Thought to Recruit New Members), Daredevil & MCU & Young Avenegrs & Jessica Jones, WIP, Peter/Mary J Steve/Karen Teddy/Billy

  https://archiveofourown.org/series/369068 The Way Things Ought to Be, MCU & Agents of Shield & Young Avengers, WIP, Wanda/Vision Scott/Sam Clint/Laura/Phil Steve/Tony Teddy/Billy 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639240/chapters/8039562 A Wolf in the Fold, Complete, MCU & Young Avengers & Agents of Shield, Clint/Phil Bucky/Steve Teddy/Billy, AU Werewolves

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15234426/chapters/35334222 a new start, WIP, Young Aengers & MCU, Teddy/Billy Kate/America David/Tommy 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12748416/chapters/29078346 Reckless, WIP, MCU & Young Avengers, Teddy/Billy America/OFC

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669591/chapters/17466499 One Cloud Feels Lonely, Complete, Part 1 of Series, MCU & Young Avengers, Steve/Billy T'Challa/Sam Teddy/Billy Kate/America

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697515/chapters/6037025 Choldren's Crusade, MCU & Young Avengers, Complete, Part 1 of series, Clint/Phil Teddy/Billy Kate/Eli, past rape/non-con 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15240198/chapters/35347905 The Dust is Bothering My Allergies, WIP, MCU & Young Avengers, Scott/Hope Teddy/Billy 

Afterwards, they stumble home punch-drunk, high on their own success. Kate's place is closer (Does Tommy even live in New York, these days? Does Tommy live anywhere?), so they head there. There's a moment of hesitation at the door, but then Tommy slips around her, flops down on her couch like he's been here before, like there isn't enough words left unsaid between them to fill a book.

Kate makes tea, because she's too high-strung for coffee, and she wants something in her hands. She's noticed lately that her hands always want to curl, like she's still gripping her bow. Instead of seeing this as a sign that she might need to take a break, she makes sure she doesn't leave her hands empty often.

Tommy takes the cup and doesn't even make a face at the herbal tea. She can't remember if she's ever seen him willingly consume a drink without caffeine before.

Tommy's got the news on, muted, and they watch coverage of their fight for a few minutes. Kate frowns at some sloppy form on her part, is about to reach for the remote to rewind the clip so she can see exactly where she went wrong, when Tommy beats her to it, clicking the TV off.

"Hey!"

He shakes a finger at her. "I didn't come over here to watch you dissect your performance. You're a superhero, not an Olympian. Chill."

Being told to chill from someone who cannot sit still to save his life is rich, and she opens her mouth to tell him so, but he's gone, in the kitchen rifling through her cabinets.

"Do you not have any food here or what?"

Why did you come here, she wonders, but doesn't voice out loud. "I don't really eat in much, I guess. And if I buy groceries, I usually bring them to Clint's." He lives a few floors up, after all, and his oven is better than hers. She could always replace her oven, but then she has one less excuse to go over there and make sure the man is actually eating.

Tommy sticks his head out from the hallway. "So should I go over there and give him a talk, or did my brother already beat me to it?"

Her cheeks heat, and she scowls. "Just friends, Tommy."

He shrugs and disappears again, but his voice carries in her small apartment. "Just checking! Gossip mags get things right every once in a while, so I thought I'd make sure."

Kate doesn't know what's more ridiculous, the idea that her and Clint are actually the subject of some rag's article, or that Tommy reads trashy gossip magazines.

She sits down on the couch because otherwise she'll follow Tommy around, and she doesn't want to. She's tired, she should probably stretch and ice her shoulder, actually. And get out of her costume. Ugh.

There's one of her sweatshirts lying over the back of the couch, so she peels herself out of the top of her costume and throws that over her sports bra. She'll get up and get alternate pants in a bit, but already she feels better, the tension draining out of her. She puts her tea down on the coffee table and breathes, falling into her post-workout/fight stretches instinctively, letting all the doubts and questions that plague her go, her mind blissfully blank as she reminds her body how to relax.

"Did you fall asleep?"

And reality comes back, all at once. She frowns. "No. I'm stretching. Not all of us are mutants with superspeed recovery time."

Tommy grins at her, and she realizes what she said a moment too slow.

"Not what I meant, Tommy!"

He chuckles. "Hey, it's true. Super fast recovery, that's me." He winks at her, but he also offers her a bowl of mystery noodles that smell absolutely delicious, so she bites back a retort in favour of taking the food.

"This didn't come from my kitchen."

He shakes his head, digging into his own bowl. "Nope. Not even the cutlery. I got us takeout."

She doesn't thank him, but she also doesn't kick him out of her house. Tommy looks too smug already, anyway. He doesn't need more praise.

After the noodles, all she really wants to do is curl up and take a nap. She waves a hand at the couch, says something about 'make yourself at home,' and heads to her room. She's asleep almost instantly, not even bothering to get under the covers.

Kate sleeps for four hours without dreams, wakes up feeling like she's been born anew. There's a blanket over her that she doesn't remember grabbing, but underneath it she's still half in costume, and it's getting to evening, so she does up her top again and heads for the door and her bow. It's a Friday night. There will be something to do.

She'd forgotten about her guest. In the dark apartment, lit by the city outside, all she can really see of him is his white hair. He sits up as she walks past.

"Kate?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

He shrugs. He's shirtless, and she tries to pretend she doesn't follow the sharp lines of his collarbones with her eyes. "S'okay. Are you seriously going out?"

"Yes?"

He's next to her before she registers he's moving at all, which is probably a sign she shouldn't go out. Her reactions feel slower than they should be. Or maybe it's just Tommy, this dusk lighting that makes everything feel dreamlike.

"Don't go." He brushes a light hand over her arm, the one already clutching her bow. "Stay over."

She raises an eyebrow. "Stay over? This is my house."

He grins, crooked and more open than she's seen him in a long time. "Yeah, and I'm asking you to stay over. Give yourself a break. You already saved the city, today. It's someone else's turn."

"That's not how it works."

"Sure it is." His hand is on hers, and she lets him take the bow away, put it back in its place, lead her back to the couch. "It's New York. You shoot an arrow straight up, it'll hit like three do gooders on the way down."

Clint likes to wander on Fridays, when there's no Avengers business. Stopping petty thefts and keeping an eye on anyone walking home through the park. Tommy's right, there are always eyes on this city. But she doesn't know what to do, when her hands are empty. She doesn't like giving herself much time to languish.

Her hand isn't empty now. Tommy's tangled their fingers together, and the remote is in his other hand. He skips past all the news channels, pulls up Netflix instead, and she should protest, but she doesn't. Just lets herself lean into his shoulder as he flicks through movies faster than she can follow. Lets the iron grip she maintains on her own life loosen, just for a night. Trades in a bit of control for this comfort, a mindless movie with a boy she used to know, one she thinks will let her get to know him again, if she wants.

It’s an old warehouse, out by the docks. The boss calls them ‘abandoned’, but Tommy knows that’s not true, because he remembers this place, full of corners that can easily fit a sleeping bag or two. People here had respected each other’s space, minded their own business but were there if you were in trouble, just like proper neighbours. Tommy spares a thought to the list of kids he ran with here. One day, when he’s a little braver, he might even try to look some of them up. Say hello.

Tonight, the warehouse looks empty, a skeleton, although even his familiar eyes can’t see all the corners. The moon cuts through the few windows that have managed to avoid being boarded up. He pretends that’s why he doesn’t bother reaching for his flashlight.

“Bishop,” he hisses. She’s still a good few feet in front of him. She looks very exposed. “Bishop. we should call for backup.”

“He’s in here, Shepherd,” she whispers back, in that tense, angry tone Tommy’s gotten to know quite well, in their six months of partnership. It’s a voice that only comes out when they’re dealing with a rapist, and Tommy knows better than to point it out.

“Yeah, and there are about a thousand little bolt holes in here.” There are thirty six exits, actually. He still remembers every one. “We’re not going to catch him like this.”

Kate is fuming, but he’s right. He knows it, she knows it. In the dim light, he sees her shoulders tense.

Uh oh. “What are you-”

“This is the police!” Kate yells, switching on her flashlight. “Come out with your hands up!”

Tommy freezes, just for a moment. In that second, there’s a pained whimper, and the sound of hurried footsteps. Tommy tries to listen, pinpoint the person running and if they’re actually leaving, but Kate is already rushing towards the pained noises. Tommy curses, not bothering to be quiet at this point. The the whole world know that he has the most impulsive partner in the state. He follows her, trying to cover her as best as he can.

In one of the corridors between two empty crates, a pile of rags is crying. Kate kneels next to the girl immediately, and Tommy is instantly reminded of why he’s utterly in love with Kate Bishop, even with her tendency for the rash. You would never know from looking at her, that she is one of the wealthiest heiresses in New York. Tommy had watched most of his graduating class at the Academy look down upon or even straight up dislike the homeless population. Kate Bishop, who probably has shoes more expensive than anything this street girl has ever held, doesn’t treat the homeless like a disease or a tragedy. She sees them as people, as worth her protection as anything, and when she grabs the victim’s hand, Tommy knows she feels a sistership with this girl that has nothing to do with where they came from.

Tommy keeps an eye out, calls in the paramedics, and lets Kate do the talking. They’ve known for almost a month that a man is preying on the homeless girls by the docks. But this is the first time they’ve actually managed to get this close to stopping him. Tommy knew this case would probably bring them back into his old stomping ground, but he didn’t expect to end up in what used to be home. The perp has killed some, mauled others, and it’s too easy to see the faces of girls he knew, in the faces of the dead. Especially now.

“Ambulance is on the way,” he tells Kate, when there’s a lull in conversation behind him. There’s a little hiccup, and then the victim’s voice, louder than before and definitely familiar.

“Hey, I know you?”

Tommy’s whole body goes cold, that old instinct of flight overwhelming him. He’d been planning on telling Kate, really, but he doesn’t want to do it here.

“Probably not,” he says gruffly, and doesn’t look.

There’s movement behind him. He should be able to hear sirens by now, right? Maybe that’s wishful thinking. Kate protests, tells the girl she shouldn’t be moving, but this one’s never been a good listener.

“I know you,” she says, right behind him now. He has to turn around and face her, and when he does he makes sure to keep his eyes on only her. He doesn’t want to see Kate’s face.

She’s probably got a broken cheekbone, he notes, one side of her face all messed up, and she’s leaning to one side like her world is tilting. But her untouched eye is sharper than he’s used to, staring him down. She’s older than she was when he last saw her, he knows this, but she looks just the same.

“Speed! Knew it was you.” She clasps his shoulder, although whether it’s out of camaraderie or to help her stay upright, he’s not sure. “All cleaned up like a copper, but still Speed.”

“Hey, Kiden,” he replies, and guides her down to the floor again, their backs against one of the crates. Kiden was new to the streets around the same time he and Billy were. She’d been the one to show them the warehouse. They’d gotten out, but he knew they were the lucky ones, knew most of their old friends wouldn’t. He takes in her thin arms, threadbare shoes, and it hits him how different knowing verses seeing that luck is.

“I’m clean now, you know?” She’s babbling, maybe going into shock. Still no sirens. What’s taking so long?  "Six months. Time still moves like molasses but at least I remember it all, right?“

"That’s…” He can’t pretend to be distant anymore. He lets himself smile, pull her in for a molasses. “That’s awesome, Kiden.”

“Not as awesome as you, Officer Speed. Or what do I call you now?” She turns to wink at Kate with her one good eye. “You know why we called him Speed?”

“I can guess.” Kate’s voice is flat. Tommy still can’t look at her. “Where’s our bus?”

“I can call again?” Tommy offers, and does. There’s an accident, they’re having trouble getting through. Great.

“It’s 'cause he was so quick, man. Didn’t matter what kind of trouble we all landed in, he knew. He’d bend time to be there. Made to run, this one.”

That’s not the whole truth, but it’s a kind one. Kate’s 'oh’ sounds almost guilty.

Is that footsteps again?

“Let’s wait outside.” Tommy stands up, suddenly wanting to be somewhere with sight lines. “If you’re already up, we might as well-”

A glint of metal in the dark, out by the end of their narrow hallway. Tommy moves forward, gun coming up, but the man is quicker. He hears the gunshot, knows his own shot goes wide even as the pain hits him. He crumples, Kate’s scream of his name echoing strangely in his ringing ears. The perp is running, Kate pushes past him, and it’s dark but not too dark.

Kate is the best shot in the force, he’s always thought so, and tonight he’d put money on it. He hears their guy running for the door, and knows he won’t make it there.

One shot. A scream of pain. Hands are on him, familiar hands, and it’s like he’s sixteen again, bleeding out on this same floor. Both times he’d been too slow, too slow. Kiden’s face swims in his vision, like he’s tripping again.