#marksmanbarton

Clint remained standing, pressing a long, soft kiss to Steve’s forehead. “She’s…” Clint swallowed and closed his eyes, tangling his fingers gently in Steve’s hair. “Barney’s Omega didn’t survive childbirth. And he knows he can’t take care of her on his own, so… she’s… she’s ours, Steve.” He pulled back to stroke his hand down Steve’s arm, his fingers brushing the edge of the blanket the baby was swaddled up in. “If.. if you want her?”

Okay. Maybe she can only handle some of it.

Phil’s known for having two sides, of sorts. He’s generally known as a hardass, and a little cold even, but it’s also known that he’s kind to his people and looks after new agents, especially if they seem to need it.

Barton’s sort of a mess when he arrives. Sort of feral looking, half starved and threadbare. It’s not an unusual situation for recruits, but still, Phil double checks to make sure he’s got a bed, even in the barracks or one of the tiny dorms, and checks with the various Ops instructors.

The lighthouse bay was one of Steve’s favorite places to sleep. It was deep enough to still feel safe, but so close to the shore, so near the beaches he loved. And there was a beautiful lighthouse there that always illuminated even the stormiest of nights. Sometimes Steve would shed his tail and climb up the rock jetty on sunny days, just to enjoy the air on his face. He was odd, for a merman, but as the wanderer that he was, he’d never really minded. 

The blue scaled fabric hung around his waist like a sash, but he slipped it off and tucked it under a large rock. If anything happened to his scales, he’d never be able to re-enter the sea, and he’d die. It was a risk, but he knew how to be careful. How to never let it out of his sight, never let anyone touch it. He always hid it in a hard-to-get-to place, like this cave, or kept it with him. Steve pulled on the pair of human pants he kept hidden as well. People didn’t take kindly to nudity, he’d noticed. 

Steve stared out as he noticed a small boat coming back towards the lighthouse. He helped pull the man in to the dock with a smile. “Smooth as glass out there today,” he commented. He’d noticed from the underside rather than by floating along the top, but still. It was a beautiful day.

@marksmanbarton (sorry I'm hella slow but have the thing I promised.)

Kate was sprawled out on the bar top, the tablet she used to play with the lighting sequencing in front of her, filtering through the different colours. The Crosshair was her baby, and she may have, on the down low, gotten Clint to join in. Or at least come look at what she had, so she could convince him to join her.

Steve paced around their bedroom. Clint was talking to his brother downstairs. It was the fucking middle of the night, and Steve didn’t like this at all. Barney appeared out of nowhere and said he needed to talk to Clint, but- where had he been until now? What did he need that he’d come home? Steve wanted to give Clint his privacy, but the nerves were getting to him. Just when he’d decided he could just go check on them, Clint opened the bedroom door.

He was holding a baby.

@marksmanbarton

It had been a long time since the witch had even thought of having a familiar and the thought only entered her head because of where she was. These woods were considered a hotspot for finding them.