Clint groaned quietly, his entire body ached, every muscle in his body screamed in pain, begging him not to move, wishing for something to numb the pain Agony that was only amplified when he tried to move, forced to bite down on his cheek to stop anything more than a grunt of pain escaping as pain bloomed from his chest like a raging forest fire. He didn't remember feeling like this last time he woke up. A frown tugged at his lips as he let his muscles go slack, giving up on the attempt at moving, he actually couldn't remember much of the last time he was awake.
The last thing he remembered was... Pepper! And a storm of bullets being fired towards her. He and Natasha had heard of a hit out on the CEO so they had insisted Clint be allowed onto her security team. At least, that’s what Tasha told him, he’d left convincing Tony up to her. It was never meant to get so close. He remembered jumping in front of the bullets, knocking her to the side and into the other bodyguards, so they could escort her away. Then nothing. Nothing but pain, until now.
Long fingers ran repeatedly through his hair, both soothing him, and as an added weight to hold him down, as if the fingers owners could follow his drug-free train of thought. They succeeded, the memory slipping from his mind as the fingers massaged his scalp, soothing down his dirty blonde hair. For a second Clint thought they were Natasha's, but as they slipped down to his neck he realised his mistake. Natasha’s fingers were shorter, full of calluses that came from their line of work, these fingers were long, edges of nails nicking his skin as they ran back up into his hair. Skin soft and smooth against his neck and through his hair.
"Take it easy Barton. You got a lot of bullet holes." He could hear the smirk that tugged her lips upwards as they uttered the soft spoken words, another groan falling from his own lips as he forced back the memories that threatened to overwhelm. He wanted to enjoy this daydream for as long as his mind would let him, ignore the fact that they'd clearly taken him off the painkillers that had prevented him feeling as much of the pain he did now, in favour of the ghost of a woman who was speaking to him. He tucked his head further into what he thought was a pillow, but the gasp that fell from the female and her hand tightening in his hair told him that it was her lap his head was resting in, his face pressed into her inner thigh.
"You've been out for six weeks. Mostly healed, they decided to bring you off the sedatives yesterday. Tony had you sent back to the tower before they cut off the supply. You're back on your floor in your nest. Talia's here, she's asleep on your couch right now." The female kept speaking softly, knowing Clint would be dazed and slightly confused. Her hand kept running through his hair until he drifted back off to sleep.
~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~
"He woke up for a few minutes about an hour ago. Drifting in and out ever since," The same gentle voice woke him up again, her fingers still tangled in his hair, as her palm rested on the back of his neck. He could feel the denim of her expensive jeans pressing against his cheek, head still nestled in her lap. The pain seemed slightly more subsided this time, no longer a raging fire through his veins, more a gentle warmth that reminded him that he was alive, prodding and twisting its way through his chest with every heartbeat. They must have given him more painkillers whilst he slept.
"The hospital said it might take a few days for the sedatives to wear off properly." Natasha's voice replied from behind him, his partner speaking just as softly as the ghost he slept upon, neither seeming to want to wake him up.
"He's going to be furious when he realizes you had him sedated for longer than normal." The conversation continued above him, both allowing him to pretend he was still asleep.
"We didn't have much of a choice, he wasn't eating, wasn't taking care of himself, taking every active mission he could get his hands on. He wasn't coping without you." He felt Natasha's hand dance over his shoulder before it left again. His partner reassuring himself that he was still there.
"I'll go get you some food. Bruce will probably be up soon to try and get something into him." Clint heard Natasha stand, his body moving slightly as her weight lifted off the huge round super king sized bed.
"Thanks Talia." The hand in his hair started moving once more. A soft sigh leaving it's owners lips. "You need to sit up my love." She clearly knew that he was awake, her words directed at him, bringing her hand down, the back of her fingertips stroking his jaw and cheek. He turned into her touch, seeking her out subconsciously, ignoring the ache that reminded him of his injuries. Her name was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't force the words to leave his lips.
"Sit up my love." His eyes cracked open, smiling slightly when he noticed that the lights had been dimmed. He rolled his weight away from her, feeling her hand trail across his shoulders. He caught himself on his arms, ignoring the shake as they struggled to support the weight they'd normally bare easily.
"Careful." The concerned comment left her lips before she could stop it. He went to protest, but a blinding pain in his throat stopped him. Instead he settled himself into a sitting position, his back against the headboard, legs stretched out, pressed alongside hers.
"Here. Ice chips. They should help your throat." A cup was placed in his hand, but she made no more attempts to help him as he lifted a small piece and allowed it to melt in his mouth. The cool liquid soothed his throat, coating the dry and rough feeling from weeks of disuse.
"Are you even really here?" His words came out as a croaked whisper, still refusing to look at the person seated beside him. He shut his eyes, trying to hold back the tears he could feel pooling there.
"Yeah Baby, I am. Papa lied to you. I was in a coma, wasn't expected to make it. He said you assumed I was dead, and he didn't want to correct you until he was sure I'd make it." The hand tangled in his hair once more, cupping his face. He felt her weight shift, straddling his lap as her other hand cupped the other side of his face. Thumbs brushing his cheek, wiping away the tears that leaked from his eyes. "Hey, look at me." Clint's eyes slowly cracked open, locking on to a golden pair of eyes.
"I'm here. I'm alive. You're safe. I love you." She stated each fact with so much determination that Clint couldn't help but believe her. He put the cup of ice on the bedside table. His arms wrapping around her slender waist and crushing her to his body as best he could. A smile graced his lips when he heard her laugh, her arms snaking up to wrap around his neck.
"I love you." She whispered repeatedly, holding him as tightly as she felt she could without causing further pain. He ran one of his hands up her spine, tangling his hand in her honey brown ringlets, much like she had been doing to him earlier. With a soft tug her head moved away from his neck, allowing him to capture her lips in the softest, sweetest kiss he could manage.
"God Ri." The choked gasp left his lips, his grip on her tightening as he finally believed she was real. He couldn't help but kiss every part of her face, ignoring her giggles and half hearted attempts to pull away. "I thought you were dead. I-" A sob cut off his words, his head falling forward to rest on her shoulder as his body shook, unable to tell if the tears were caused by happiness or sadness.
"Baby. Papa and I, we had an argument once I woke up. I lost my temper, so did he. I accidentally told him about us, and our child. Dad knows too, he was there, but they're both sworn to secrecy, and they've had a month to get used to the idea." Clint's body tensed as he realized the implications of her words. That her adopted father's knew he was involved in a sexual relationship with their daughter. The woman that had saved him and given him a home, his best friend and partner in crime. A woman strictly off limits because of who her fathers were. He was a dead man once they found him.
"Our child?" The whisper passed his lips all too easily, remembering the list of complications he'd memorised, all the things that could have gone wrong.
"Growing steadily, at about half the rate of a human child though. He's fine my love." She slipped one hand from his neck, entwining her fingers through his before gently tugging his hand down to rest on her stomach, letting him feel the slight bump that proved she still carried his child. That nothing had gone wrong. A laugh left his lips, his hand tugging up her shirt, revealing more of her olive toned skin so that he could see what he so clearly felt. His lover allowed a small smile of her own to grace her lips when he looked up at her, leaning forward to steal a kiss from his lips.
"How long?" He whispered, the hand tangled in her hair gently tugging her face closer to his,
“Six months.” He watched as she told him how long it had been, her eyes flickering between his lips and his soft blue gaze. A groan passed his lips before he tilted his head forward,
capturing her lips with every bit of emotion he felt. Silently trying to explain what words could not. His hands held her to him, as hers did the same. Neither willing to release the other, in case it should all be proved a dream.
A throat clearing slowly pulled them away from each other. Clint's hold releasing just enough so that she could roll off him, instead being tucked under his arm and into the left hand side of his body. Bruce shuffled closer slightly, carrying a tray laden with a bowl of soup and a rather large side salad.
"Natasha said you had to eat all the salad." He directed to the woman beside Clint, watching as she squirmed both her arms free and took the tray from him, eyeing the salad distastefully.
"I have a meeting with my Uncle-" She started to protest, glancing at the time as she moved the tray to rest on Clint's lap.
"Eat." Two voices cut her off, one belonging to the doctor as he folded his arms across his chest and eyed her pointedly. The other from Natasha as she crossed the room to perch on the edge of Clint's bed, muscles coiled as if ready to pounce and force feed the other woman.
"Talia-" Her pleas were ignored, Natasha's attention turning to Clint, eyes scanning down his body. Silently checking for herself that he was alright. Clint smiled at her in response, lifting a spoon full of what tasted like chicken soup to his lips. The pair ate in silence under Nastasha and Bruce's watchful eyes. The other female scowling at them every chance she got.
"Okay. I really do have to go meet my Uncle." The woman stood, stretching her muscles, aware of her lover's gaze on her stomach, before it scanned the rest of her, dedicating every inch of her body to memory, remembering the feel of her skin beneath his hands and lips.
"Be good for Talia and Bruce. I'll be back soon." She whispered against Clint's lips, stealing a kiss from him quickly. One of his arms circled around her waist, the other cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. Silently begging for her to stay. She breathed an apology before pulling away, easily breaking the hold his weakened muscles had on her. She paused to hug Natasha and Bruce on her way out, her footsteps making no sound on the hardwood floors.
"I just need to-" Bruce trailed off, half motioning towards the medical kit that sat beside Clint's bed. His hands twisting around each other, the doctors weight shifting from foot to foot as he glanced around the spacious room.
"Go ahead Doc." Clint nodded, forcing a reassuring smile on his face. His eyes were on Natasha as Bruce crossed to his bedside and started running the normal tests on him. The red haired woman making sure he obeyed all of Bruce's requests.
"Alright, everything seems to be fine. Just take it easy, your muscles a weakened and your body will be drained, not to mention the sedatives are still in effect. We'll leave you to get some rest." Bruce stood, sliding the medical kit beneath the bedside table with his foot and taking the empty tray off of the bed. Natasha nodded once in agreement, leaning forward and kissing the top of his head. A whispered order to behave before she accompanied Bruce out of the room.
Clint waited until he heard the elevator doors shut to throw back the covers and roll himself out of bed. A hand on the bedside table to steady himself as he looked around. Tony had given him the top floor of Avengers tower. Above him was the aircraft hanger, and below him was Natasha's floor. One of the few places he had thought he could call home, had imagined could be a home with Iris.
He shouldn’t have expected that everything would be as he had left it. The duffel bag that had held his clothes and lived on the end of his bed was empty. Tucked into the corner of his closet, easily within grab, but practically out of sight. Against the back wall suits he would probably never wear were hung immaculately, coded by colour and shades in the large walk-in-wardrobe. Clint smiled when he realised it mimicked Coulson's way of sorting his suits.
Clint slowly made his way closer, leaning heavily against the doorway to look into the room. Beside his suits were dresses of every style and colour, the longest sweeping against the floor. Unlike his suits, the dresses were organised by length, the longest pressed against a pure white suit. Half of the right hand wall was covered from floor to ceiling in shoe racks. His shoes took up less than a quarter of the space, each rung dedicated to a different style of shoes, his running and everyday shoes were on the lower levels, and the dress shoes towered high above his head. The same with his girls shoes that occupied the space beside his, although her heels were colour coded whereas his dress shoes were not.
The rest of the right hand wall were mirrors, makeup tables placed in front of them that held a wide variety of every type of makeup Shield assigned, or that of which his girl owned. Directly behind him were more mirrors, each floor to ceiling yet again. In front of these were dressers, Clint walked towards the dressers, opening drawers to see them filled with clothes. His were further towards the back, each dresser filled with different types of jeans and shirts. Clint pulled out a change of clothes, slinging the black tracksuit pants and shirt over his arm as he left the wardrobe.
His gaze went upwards, eyes on the rafters that ran the length of the floor, and the blank of wood he'd hauled to sit above the office and kitchen. The makeshift nest had been fixed up, and a second round bed was just visible over the top. Tony's idea of a funny ‘nest’ joke had actually been really cool, and despite Pepper's offer he had refused to have the bed switched back to normal conventional rectangular mattresses. He made his way towards the ensuite, bracing himself against the vanity as he filled up the two person bathtub.
A sigh left his lips as the warm water caressed his bare skin, soothing aches and relieving tension he didn't realise he had. His eyes fell on where new scars should have littered his chest. The reminders of bullet holes that had seen him sedated. The experimental subatomic machine rifles had torn through his top-of-the-line shield-issued bullet proof vest to bite into the skin underneath. Clint couldn't bring himself to regret his actions however, surely he had managed to save Pepper's life, and he would do it again in a heartbeat.
"Jarvis?" He called, eyes casting skywards once more as he waited for the AI to respond.
"Yes Agent Barton? How may I be of assistance?" The british voice didn't take long to come through the speakers hidden throughout his room.
"Pepper Potts, how is she?" A tile at the end of the bathtub flickered to life, the display showing vital signs and a full body diagnostic.
"She is perfectly fine Agent Barton. A little shaken after your ordeal, and very worried about you, but otherwise in perfect physical and mental health. She is currently in a business meeting, but I have alerted her of your return to consciousness, and she will visit you later this evening." Jarvis spoke removing the screen once more.
"Can you do that for Iris?" Clint's hand motioned at the tile despite the fact the AI had no eyes in his room. At his own request, he would have the voice, but he wouldn’t have the AI monitoring him or recording video of him in his own home.
"Of course." The screen flickered back to life with no hesitation, another set of vital signs that Clint ignored, instead his keen gaze on the body that turned beside it.
"Can you zoom in on the stomach region?" Jarvis offered no verbal answer, instead doing as Clint requested. His breath caught in his throat and tears sprung to his eyes as he saw the minimal detail that was the 3 month old tiny human growing within her. The child he had helped create and he believed to have lost.
"Congratulations Sir." Jarvis whispered, before the image vanished and Clint was left alone. The warm water soothing him until his eyes drifted shut.
"Barton!" A fist slammed against the door, startling Clint. He automatically reached for a weapon that wasn't there. A curse word fell from the person's lips before the door was broken open. Clint blinked back tiredness as he realised it was Steve in his doorway, chest heaving as he breathed heavily.
"Captain." He greeted, trying to pull himself up slightly.
"Nat, he's fine. I got eyes on him." Steve's hand moved to his ear as he spoke. His eyes never leaving Barton for a second. Clint sighed, rolling over and pulling himself upright, wrapping a towel around his waist as he stepped out of the bath. Steve's hands on his arms steadied him as he swayed slightly.
"Hey, take it easy Barton." Steve spoke softly, removing his hands and passing the younger man another towel. Clint dried himself, before pulling on the clothes he had already selected, running the towel through his hair to dry it.
"Jarvis alerted us when you started drifting off." Steve picked up the splintered remains of the ensuites wooden door, piling it to one side with a frown. "Your wife called moments later, Natasha's still on the phone to her, trying to calm her down." The super soldier continued, Clint frowned.
"She's not my wife Cap. Just my girlfriend." He corrected, making his way out of the bathroom and towards the small kitchen. His eyes rested on the elevator momentarily, wishing it would open to reveal her, before he continued on his way, pulling ingredients out of the cupboards, automatically starting to make her favourite meal.
"I said I'd stay with you until she got back. Do you mind?" Steve gestured to one of the bar stools on the breakfast island across from Clint.
"Go ahead. Is she due back soon?" Clint consented, turning the coffee machine on as he passed it.
"She normally goes for a couple of hours each day. Tony's been trying to tail her, but he's having issues keeping track of her. Can't find any trace of her on any security cameras." Steve answered with a shrug, Clint paused to observe him, wondering how he truly felt about a girl he knew would have to be a mystery to him. On the outside he seemed not to care, every other sentence about her accompanied with a shrug and carefree dismissal, but his eyes gave Steve away, The way they hardened with the mentions of her daily disappearances, the curiosity when Clint had said they weren't married.
"She was raised by Nick Fury and Phil Coulson, if she doesn't want to be found, there's nothing Tony can do." Clint watched the look of surprise that flickered across the super soldiers face with his admission. Clint wasn't surprised, his girl didn't tell people of her parentage often, and neither did they.
"You're not worried?" Steve asked, watching as Clint started to make pasta from scratch.
"No. She can beat me and Tash in a fair fight more often than we can beat her. She's the reason we're both Shield agents. I trust her with my life, and with her own. She's not some damsel in distress that needs to be rescued." Clint replied, kneading the dough before he wrapped it up and put it in the fridge. Making two cups of coffee before taking the seat next to Steve.
"How long has she been here?" Clint asked a question of his own.
"She's been at your side on and off for about two weeks, but I have a funny feeling she's been here longer than that, and we just haven't seen her." Steve answered, sipping at his coffee as he did so.
"A month, two weeks in she decided that you all could be trusted." Natasha plucked the cup of coffee out of Clint's hand, knowing he had his coffee the exact same way that she drank hers. Clint rolled his eyes, pushing himself to his feet and making himself another. Natasha slid herself back into his seat beside Steve, watching as Clint started to make a sauce to accompany the homemade pasta.
"Man, I wish I could've seen the look on Stark's face." Clint chuckled, raising his coffee mug to his lips.
"Me too." Natasha smiled, but she hid it behind a layer of her red curls.
"She got to Jarvis, had him on her side from her arrival. Tony wasn’t impressed, we thought their argument would wake you when he found out." Natasha leant into Steve as she spoke, eyes following Clint as he walked around his kitchen, frowning as he opened all the drawers and cupboards.
"Jarvis, where did she put my knives?" Both Steve and Natasha pointed to the multiple knife blocks and magnetic stip that held a large variety of knives. Steve’s arm falling over Natasha’s shoulder rather than being pulled back to his side. Clint’s lips curled up in amusement when Natasha did nothing about it.
"Nevermind." Clint grabbed one of the largest knives from the block, twirling it around his fingers as he pulled ingredients from the fringe and place them on a chopping board.
"Need a hand?" Natasha grabbed the knife out of the air as he threw it upwards. Clint motioned for her to go ahead, turning his back so he could get into the cupboard behind her. His coffee abandoned in favour of an old, well used pasta maker. Steve watched silently as he started rolling out the dough before feeding it into the machine with seemingly little thought.
Natasha shrugged her way out from under Steve's arm, taking her chopping board full of vegetables, cheese and bacon around to a frying pan Clint had already prepared with oil, quickly sauteing the vegetables and bacon as she mixed cheese into the sauce.
"Something smells amazing." Clint's gaze was drawn to the elevator as it opened and revealed his olive toned beauty. Her golden eyes swept the room, pausing over all of the inhabitants, frowning when she saw Clint up and about.
"I'm fine Ri." Clint spoke, opening one arm. She rolled her eyes, before walking to his side and tucking herself under his arm. Her head resting on his chest, her arm snaking around his waist.
"You were sedated for ten weeks baby. Fine is a lie." She stole a kiss from his lips before walking towards the bathroom, kicking off the heels that added three inches to her natural 5'6 height and pulling her long ringlets up into a bun.
"Imma take a quick shower." She called over her shoulder before she disappeared into the other room, fully aware that Clint's eyes followed her every step. Natasha's elbow nudged his side, and she gestured for him to chase after her, turning off all the stove top elements and pulling Steve into the elevator. Clint paused, glancing at the meal he'd been making, before abandoning it in favour of his lovers company.
~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~
Clint smiled when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, a face pressed against his bare back. A sigh leaving the woman's lips before she kissed the space in between his shoulder blades.
"Dinner will be ready soon." He spoke, reaching around behind him to grab her arm and tug her to stand beside him.
"Smells amazing Babe." She whispered, trying to steal a bite of the sauce he'd made. Clint playfully slapped her hand away, grabbing hold of her wrist in the same movement, in order to hold her still as he pinned her between him and the kitchen counter. One of his hands travelled down her hourglass figure to tug at the fabric that fell to her mid thighs. His shirt and the only item of clothing she wore. He ran a finger up her thighs, covering her mouth with his own to cut off her quiet moan. Her free hand tangled in his hair, holding him close to her even as he pulled back slightly.
"I missed you." His whispered, his steel grey eyes locking on hers. She offered no immediate verbal answer, moving her hands to rest on his bare chest and kissing him once more.
"As I you." She whispered when she pulled back, tucking her head into his neck. The oven timer went off, interrupting whatever it was Clint was going to offer in return. Instead he released her to spoon two bowls full of carbonara. Her whispered thanks and the brush of her hand against his as she took the bowl set his heart racing. The slight upturn of her lips at his intake of breath told him it was intentional.
"Ri." He scolded halfheartedly, shaking his fork at her. She only laughed at him, eating the meal he'd made for her. A moan passing her lips as the flavours hit her taste buds.
"You've missed your calling my love." She pressed a kiss to his cheek as they both sat at the kitchen bar. Clint rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm around her waist before proceeding to eat with his left hand. "And your son hates salads." She added with a scowl, stabbing the homemade pasta as if it were the offending food.
"Excuse me Agent Barton, Ma’am Iris. Miss Potts is wondering if it's an acceptable time to visit?" Jarvis interrupted, saving Clint from having to make a comment.
"As good-a time as any Jarvis. Send her up." Clint spoke, turning to Iris with a frown.
"Ma’am Iris?" He demanded, gently tickling her side. She squirmed further into his side, her hand covering his and stilling his actions.
"Well, Mrs Barton is incorrect. Agent Coulson-Fury will be to confusing when Tierre and Vaile show up, plus he sounds hot saying Ma’am with that sexy british accent, and it pisses Stark off because he hasn't been able to convince Jarvis to stop." She shrugged, bumping his side slightly and pulling away abruptly when he let out his breath in a hiss of pain.
"-it, Baby Sorry. You okay?" She panicked, a hand resting over the bare skin that she had bumped.
"Fine Ri." He pulled her into his side, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. The ache in his side fading back to a pain level he could ignore. He felt her muscles start to relax, his fingers drawing intricate patterns up her side absentmindedly. He was surprisingly hungry, finishing his bowl of food as about the same time as Iris did. His hold on her tightened slightly as she went to move away, a kiss to his cheek as she stole his bowl had his hold loosening, smiling softly as she refilled the bowls and slid back next to him. Her head resting on top of his shoulder. They continued to eat in silence, neither really needed words to explain to the other how they felt, they'd been together too long for that. All they needed now was to be close to one another, remind themselves that they were safe, both alive, and both still breathing after the catastrophe their latest missions had been.
"Clint." The archer looked up as the elevator door slid open, revealing the CEO of Stark Industries. Pepper was still dressed for the office, Clint frowned when he realized she hadn't even been to her floor to change yet.
"Hey Pepper." Iris left his side to wrap her arms around the other woman, buying Clint just enough time to check for himself that the CEO was uninjured.
"Evening Iris. How's everything?" Pepper's hand strayed to the younger woman's stomach, a breathtaking smile lighting up Iris' face at the action.
"Much better now Daddy's awake." Iris motioned over at Clint with her head, laughing slightly at her own word choice.
"Aren't we all." Pepper let go of Iris, taking slow steps towards Clint. Her eyes locked on his bare chest, Clint felt uncomfortable under her scrutinising gaze. He wasn't at his normal heightened physical level, muscles weakened after what Iris said was ten weeks in a medically induced coma, he had gained weight and he didn't like it.
"No scars." Peppers fingers probed at his skin, exactly where she knew the bullets had hit. Clint locked eyes with Iris over the top of the redhead, silently asking for a rescue. Iris smirked, shaking her head and walking into the other side of the kitchen. Clint narrowed his eyes to glare at her, rolling them when she turned her back to him.
"Nope, all healed and good to go. How are you doing?" Clint answered,
"Just fine, I wasn't the one who was shot." Pepper dismissed his question, deliberately not making eye contact with him. Clint grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him.
"No, but you were the target, and you watched me take several bullets for you." Pepper looked away again, eyes resting on Iris' back as she tried to figure out what to say.
"Thank you." Pepper whispered, looking back to him. "But please don't do it again." Clint wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tears hitting his arm before she turned into his chest. Sobs racking her slender frame. Clint could think of no comforting words, looking to Iris for advice. His girl only shrugged, motioning she was going to find pants.
"You are going to have a child, and you have an amazing woman who needs you. I have-"
"Tony, and he would be a mess without you, taking hits and bullets is exactly what I am trained to do. I don't regret it, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. Iris knows this, and I know she'd do the same if she were in my shoes." Clint cut Pepper off, gently pulling her away from his chest and into one of the bar stools, walking around to dish her a plate of pasta,
"Yes please!" Iris called from the bedroom, Clint chuckled to himself, putting the last of the pasta into her bowl before starting to wash the dishes. Iris was quick to return, a pair of black tracksuit pants that matched his covering her lower half.
"We still on for Yoga tomorrow morning?" Iris nudged Pepper as she slid into the seat beside her, stealing the fork Clint had left on the bar and taking a huge bite of the pasta, watching Pepper as she took a dainty bite out of her owl bowl.
"Course. Holy crap this is good." Pepper nodded, before taking a much bigger bite. A slight moan passing her lips as her eyes fell shut.
"My evil plan to take over the world is working." Clint faked an evil laugh, his lips curling up in a genuine smile when he saw the two women burst out in laughter, leaning against each other in an effort to stay upright.
"Babe we'll do the dishes, go back to bed." Iris motioned with the fork as she caught her breath, watching him wobble unsteadily on his feet. His arms bracing himself against the island bench. Clint opened his mouth to protest, but was cut short by a yawn.
"Bed, go." Iris stood, placing one of his arms over her shoulders, as her arm wrapped around his waist, keeping him upright and moving towards the bedroom. Clint wanted to refuse, but his body wouldn't obey his commands, he was too tired, his mind too hazy to notice anything more than the warm body holding him upright.
~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~
Clint woke first, rolling over and tugging the woman who shared his bed into his chest. Arm slung over her waist so his hand rested on her growing stomach. She complained in her sleep, but snuggled back into his hold like she had been there the entire time. Clint smiled to himself, lifting his head up on one arm to look down at her. Fingers drawing patterns on her stomach, gently pushing the shirt she wore higher up so he could attack more of her skin.
“I thought you were dead Ri, you and our little one.” His quiet voice pierced through the silence of his floor.
“So many people were caught up in the Battle of New York, and no one could tell me where you were. Maria said that only Fury knew, and he was so busy dealing with the world governments and the council, and the entire world as it learnt about the existence of aliens. Natasha and I tried to catch him between meetings, but we just couldn’t find him, only a note that said to check the Wall of Valour.” Clint’s voice caught in his throat, arm squeezing Iris gently.
“Your names were on it Ri. You, Tierre, Vaile, right beneath Coulson's.” He forced himself to keep speaking, needing to get the words out, knowing she was awake beside him, pretending to be asleep so he would feel more comfortable. “That was it, my life felt like it ended right there. I couldn’t...” He breathed out a swear word, burying his face in her hair.
“I couldn’t imagine life without you. Nothing’s torn us apart for twenty two years, and then for this to happen? Natasha had to drag me back to the tower. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like air just no longer existed. Nat forced me to eat, shower, all that normal stuff that I just couldn’t find the energy for. She kept me alive for the first few months, but then she couldn’t stop me from taking every mission that I heard about. I didn’t want to live Ri. So I kept taking them, got more and more reckless until Maria refused to give them to me.” Clint chuckled slightly at the memory his words invoked.
“I think she and Natasha teamed up against me. Then all I would do was work out, only eating enough to sustain me. Then I heard about the hit out on Pepper. I couldn’t let Tony live through what I had to. I barely coped, he wouldn’t. Pepper didn’t understand why I started hovering around her like a second shadow whenever she left the tower. I think Nat must have said something to her, because she never complained. We even became friends. I’m not sure if Tony ever thought I was moving in on his girl, but I’m sure Nat would have pulled him aside if he did get suspicious.” Iris moved slightly in his hold, rolling over to rest her head on his chest. Clint automatically dropped himself back, barely registering the movements he made so she could be comfortable.
“Pepper forced me to eat more, I have no idea how, but she went mother hen on me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, she handles Tony with ease. Then came the attack, I was ready to die Ri. I was happy to die, to see you again. I just had to make sure Pepper was safe first. I don’t think I’ll ever forget her scream when I took all those bullets for her. Happy pulling her down and out of the way.” Clint felt her hand move on his torso, brushing over the very faint scars the bullets had left.
“I’m glad you didn’t die baby.” Iris whispered against his skin.
“So am I.” Clint smiled, running his hand through her hair,
“I was unconscious, in a hospital somewhere. Papa didn’t think we’d make it. Our Undercover Op went wrong, just before the attack, so we slipped under the radar. Father sent help, headed the team himself when someone going over Dad’s cases reported that we’d missed seven check ins. We’d been tortured for a while. Even the doctors weren’t optimistic, but they weren’t ready cut the life support until they were sure. Especially because my doctor knew of our child.” Iris kept speaking quietly, Clint’s hand brushing over her stomach again.
“He didn’t tell anyone, I checked.” She added before Clint could ask. “But I did, when I fought with Papa about him letting you think I was dead. He knows about us as well, but he’ll keep it a secret until we’re ready.” Clint stiffened he remembered her mentioning that the day before, but the full implications were still making themselves known to him.
“What does Fury think?” He asked softly,
“I don’t know, I only told him off for not telling you we were alive, especially because I was carrying your child. I even mentioned that my doctor knew it, and I know the doctor argued for telling you and Talia. Though Talia was just to maintain our cover. Papa might have tried to piece together more from that, but we’ve covered our tracks well until now. So there is no way he has an accurate timeline. He probably only thinks it’s been a year or so, after the surprise birthday party I threw for you.” Iris frowned, lifting herself from his chest, “I’m pretty sure Papa had bet on you and Nat anyway.” Clint rolled his eyes, smiling as she mentioned Shields long standing bet.
“Only because he couldn’t imagine his baby girls dating.” Iris laughed at him, leaning down to kiss him sweetly.
“We want Pancakes, you want any?” She asked against his lips, Clint hummed tangling a hand in her hair to keep the kiss going.
“I’ll cook, you two rest.” He whispered letting her pull away from him.
“We aren’t the ones that just woke up from a medically induced coma. You stay here. I’ll cook.” Her lips pressed to his head before she slid out of bed, tugging on one of Clint’s shirts and walking into the kitchen. Clint’s eyes followed her for a moment, before getting up himself. He’d spent more than enough time laying in bed, and he couldn’t bare to let Iris out of his sight. It didn’t take long to pull on a pair of sweatpants and follow after her.
“Clint.” She warned, hearing him move towards her. Clint sat on one of the stools, resting his head on his hands and watching her.
“I think it’s strange how the only thing you can cook is pancakes. Anything else and you burn down the house, but pancakes?” He started teasing her, trying to get her mind off of the fact that he was up.
“Well one of Grandma’s friends spent a long time teaching me. Papa can tell you how many kitchens I nearly burnt down. Plus, technically it’s crepes, fancy french pancakes.” Iris stuck her tongue out at him as she whipped the batter together, two pans on the stove slowly heating up, butter sizzling in each. “Plus, he only taught me because I begged to be taught. I think by the end of it he had had enough of me. It was easier just to eat out rather than spend thirty years learning another simple recipe.” Clint didn’t reply, watching her flip the crepe with ease as she pulled sugar and lemon from the pantry, passing Clint a plate as the first one was ready.
A smile pulled at her lips as she pulled out two more plates, placing them either side of Clint and flipping crepes onto them moments before the elevator door opened.
“Morning Pepper, Tony.” Clint glanced over at the pair, Tony looked exhausted, like Pepper was only just dragging him out of the lab and to bed, whereas Pepper looked as bright as she always did, wearing workout clothes with her hair tied back.
“Morning Iris, I dragged Tony up to watch over Clint while we exercise.” Pepper took a seat at the breakfast bar, helping herself to the pile of fresh fruit Iris pulled out of the fridge. Clint couldn’t help but notice the way Tony refused to look at him as he lifted himself into the opposite seat. The billionaire being surprisingly quiet, barely drawing attention to himself as he shoved away the food and stared out the windows instead.
“Eat Tony.” Iris scowled, flipping another crepe onto his plate before making herself one, taking a bite as she turned to keep cooking.
“Not hungry.” Tony muttered, but pulled the plate towards him regardless, only looking up when Iris plopped a coffee down in front of him. “Rough night inventing again?” The question was directed towards Tony, but it was Pepper who shook her head in answer.
“He still feels guilty, and you’ve seen how well he handles his emotions.” Tony’s head whipped up to glare at Pepper as she outed him. He didn’t like other people knowing about his weakness.
“Why do you feel guilty?” Clint asked, frowning when Tony looked away from him just as quickly.
“Baby, you were hurt real bad protecting his girl, why do you think he feels guilty?” Iris added another crepe to his plate, motioning for him to keep eating. “I’ve tried telling him that it’s your job, and both of us would have done it no matter who we were protecting, even Pepper has but... well he’s Tony Stark, one of the most stubborn men on the planet.” Iris reached out to poke Tony’s hand as she teased him, trying to lift his mood slightly.
“Because I took the bullets instead of her? Or instead of you?” Clint immediately knew what it was that was making him feel so bad, turning and facing Tony even as he refused to face him.
“Because he thinks it’s his fault.” Iris spoke softly, still making crepes, pretending like her words wouldn’t annoy the silently brooding man.
“I don’t think it is my fault Agent I know it is! I had to tell the world that I’m Iron Man, and everyone knows Pepper Potts is the closest person to me. I painted a giant target on her back, and then Clint had to go get hurt trying to protect her! It’s my fault! All of it, so don’t you dare tell me that I ‘think’ it’s my fault when we all know it is.” Tony snapped, standing and taking a step back.
“No, it’s not.” Three voices snapped back, before Iris flipped another crepe onto Peppers plate and motioned for her to let Clint handle it.
“Come on Stark, you can’t blame yourself for what some sick individuals thought was a smart idea.” Clint kept speaking as the girls fell silent. “And I know you don’t want to hear this, but Pepper painted that target on her own back when she choose to be your PA and then CEO, then your girlfriend, it’s why you pay so much money for good bodyguards, and we both know that I needed the work. Nor are you allowed to take the blame for me taking those bullets, it was not only my job, but my choice, and I would make the exact same one right now if I had to. I don’t regret it Tony, not one bit.” Tony still refused to look up at him as he spoke, and Clint didn’t force him to, turning back to his breakfast and the pile of crepes Iris and Pepper were happily working through.
“I’ll just get changed then we can go Pep.” Iris shoved Tony back towards his stack of food, waiting for the billionaire to sit down and eat before she continued on.
“No hurry Iris, we still have about half an hour before Natasha will have vacated the gym.” Pepper answered, glancing at her watch.
“I thought she was going to join us.” Iris asked over her shoulder, walking towards the giant walk in wardrobe.
“Over sparring with Steve?” Pepper raised an eyebrow, hearing Iris laugh in response. A smile tugged at the CEO’s lips as she turned her attention back to the last crepe on her pile.
“Did I miss something?” Clint whispered to her, making another crepe for himself.
“Natasha’s got the hots for the Captain. Ri noticed it within moments of arriving and was kind enough to tell me about it.”
“I don’t know how you missed it babe, obvious as all hell. Had to have been going on a while.” Iris called out to Clint.
“Maybe because my girlfriend and child were dead! I wasn’t paying attention to very much.” He yelled back, standing to clear the dishes. A slight shove of Pepper’s hand had him seated once more, the CEO easily taking over the task once she finished eating.
“Touche!” Iris returned to the kitchen, tying her hair up as she walked towards him. “But you should know better than to think death would be able to keep me away from you.” She stole a kiss from his lips, before moving to help Pepper with the dishes.
“Tony?” The billionaire actually looked at Clint as his name was uttered softly. “Think you could help me with some renovations up here? Ri and I are gonna need more space when our little girl arrives.” A smile tugged at the inventors lips as he looked around the loft.
“You mean our son?” Iris teased, nudging Pepper to look at Tony, and the first smile they’d seen on his lips in weeks.
“Either way you’ll need a nursery. I can build a crib-” Clint listened as Tony started rambling, grabbing a pen and napkin from the island to start sketching out the ideas. Iris rolled her eyes, opening a drawer and pulling out a stack of paper for the inventor.
“Just don’t mess with the nest yeah? I quite like that.” Tony thanked her quietly as he transferred the ideas from napkin to paper, leaning closer to discuss them with Clint. Who smirked at the girls before giving his opinion.
“I think that’s our cue Iris.” Pepper laughed, drying her hands and linking her arm through the other womans.
“We’ll be in the gym, tell Jarvis if you need me.” Iris spoke softly to Clint, waiting for him to nod before she walked away with Pepper.
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