Save Us All From The State We’re In
There were so many things to do in the tower, especially with all of the different rooms that Tony gave them access to. It was just a bit weird. They - the Avengers - lived there, which meant that they should have the seniority, should know where everything is and be able to answer all of peoples questions. But when it came to the employees downstairs, Clint felt like an imposter. As if he had broken into the tower in disguise as an Avenger.
The worst part was, whenever he went down there, they’d all ask about Tony. And it felt wrong to say ‘I don’t know’ so many times in a row.
“Mr. Barton, where’s Mr. Stark?”
“I don’t know, sorry.”
“Hawkeye! Is there any new information on Mr. Stark’s medicine plan?”
“I don’t know, he doesn’t tell me about that stuff.”
“Sir, what do you want us to do about the new article on Mr. Stark?”
“I don’t know- uh- look, just do whatever you feel would work.”
He wanted to be more helpful. He knew he could be more helpful, but he just didn’t know how. Without the immediate knowledge and answers, the workers moved on from him without a second thought.
But it still upset him, so, lately, he’d been spending a lot more time upstairs in his living quarters than downstairs in the offices. Just in case they had more questions.
Natasha had definitely noticed that he was more prone to his room now, sometimes not leaving for hours on end. But she didn’t want to upset him, so she let it be. Or, at least, that’s what Clint hoped was happening. He really hoped that she wasn’t ignoring him completely in favor of her new boyfriend. Honestly, now that it’s right in front of him, Clint can’t believe he was ever so blind to miss it.
Clint wished he hadn’t. He wished he could’ve helped her. He wished - how he wished - that he could’ve understood her longing for Bruce to be found and brought back to her safely. But, he supposes the past is past and now that she has him, all is right in their world.
Good thing his wife is a genius, or he would’ve been in for a wild surprise the first time he walked in on them making out on the couch. Like they were teenagers. That’s when the first - technically third, but first of Clint’s - rule of Avengers tower was made: No PDA in common areas. To which Natasha had complained that the living room was hers and his, not a common area, but she was overruled when Sam came up to the floor and walked right back out after seeing them cuddled up together. (“You know it’s bad when Sam can’t even joke about it.”)
Enough about the lovebirds, because Clint was freaking out. He knew he had to talk to Tony eventually, and he knew it should be soon. He had done and said some things - off the record - that he regretted. And he should probably apologize to Vision. Whenever that guy shows up. Tony hadn’t said anything about Vis, and Clint hadn’t wanted to assume anything, but come to think of it, Vision hasn’t been around.
Wanda would know where he is. Maybe he could ask her. If he knew where she was. Gods, this “not knowing anything” thing is getting on Clint’s nerves. Being the only “normal” one on the Avengers, you’d think he’d be used to it by now. And, yeah, he was definitely better at accepting the fact that all the others had more knowledge than him.
Most of them went to college and had teachers or tutors and they had education. The only education he had ever gotten was how to pickpocket a Wall Street man and make it seem like his fault. Maybe he should go visit his mother’s grave soon, that would take his mind off of things. Nope, that definitely made it worse. Even from the grave, his mother ruined his mood. Not that he was in a good mood, more of an anxious mood, but now he was in a bad mood. And that’s the worst kind of mood to be in, mind you!
Jeez, Clint needed to talk to someone now.
Standing in the elevator, Clint realized he had been moving almost completely on autopilot. He had left his room, walked past Nat and Bruce… Did he say hi to them? He must’ve, he always does. He had gotten into the elevator and it had started up without his asking. He didn’t even know what floor FRIDAY was taking him to.
When the elevator opened up, he was greeted by a simple but elegant looking living room. A little more home-y than the ones downstairs, but still similar. Outside the windows was the infamous landing pad that had been partially destroyed when Loki came to visit. Clint shuddered at the thought of Thor’s younger sibling.
That was a bad thought. Bad, bad, bad thought. Clint hated bad thoughts, because they were…bad. That’s pretty self-explanatory. Loki was a bad thought. Honestly, right now Thor was a bad thought. Clint hadn’t seen that guy since Ultron… oh, look, another bad thought. It’s like the domino effect, one bad thought falls and triggers even more.
“Hawkeye?” Oh, come on! What was an employee doing all the way up here? And why did this one look so much younger than the rest?
“Look, kid, if you’re about to ask me about Tony, my answer is gonna be ‘I don’t know’. Okay?” The kid - who carried a terrifying resemblance to Tony - shifted from foot to foot, looking younger by the second. His brown curls bounced with his movement as he opened and closed his mouth over and over again, seemingly looking for the right words to say.
“I was going to ask ‘Are you looking for him?’” He asked, “Because if so, he’s downstairs. Floor 92.”
That made Clint hesitate. He wasn’t allowed on that floor, and he didn’t want to disrespect Tony in his own tower. Clint hadn’t been there long, but no one had asked him to pay rent either time he roomed here. Before Ultron and now.
Sensing Clint’s hesitation, the kid smiled softly. He seemed nice, and his smile looked like the one Tony had on when watching Clint try and fail to make his own arrows. A real smile. A humored, amused smile. Though Clint didn’t know what was funny about this. C’mon, man, he was freaking out right now! This kid was barely even helping. He looked roughly Cooper’s age, which made Clint shiver.
“If I go with you, and give you permission, it’s okay. Right, FRI?” The child looked up at the ceiling, still smiling. Holy shit. This kid’s the carbon copy of Tony. Where did this guy come from?
“That’s correct, Peter.” Peter - now named - nodded and gestured for Clint to follow him into the elevator. It was a silent ride, no tension between the two. Except the fact that Peter was standing a bit farther away than necessary. Had Tony told his kid about the fight at the airport? Did Peter simply have trust issues like his father?
Once they reached the floor, Tony spun around from where he was working on something. More chemical than Clint had ever seen him do, as Tony mostly only worked on machines. He liked machines, they were his friends, and much less likely to betray him than the Rogues. Clint counted Ultron as a fluke, a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. Was it a horrible mistake that resulted in death? Yes. Was it one hundred percent completely Tony’s fault? No.
“Hey, Tones.”
“Barton! What- um- do you need something? Is FRIDAY down? Because I could’ve sworn I told her to announce when you guys were coming here.” Uh-uh. Last name. Not looking good. Peter stuck his head out from behind the archer. Now his smile was nervous, as if worried that he would be reprimanded or scolded for going against his father’s wishes. A glare was sent from Tony to the young boy. Clint, acting on pure instinct instead of his knowledge of Tony, stepped in front of Peter, shielding him.
“I asked him to bring me to you.” Peter tilted his head and blinked at the man in front of him, now completely blank in the face other than a raised eyebrow. For his part, Tony didn’t react much. A hurt look flashed across his eyes, but nothing else.
“I’m not going to hurt the kid, if that’s what you’re scared of. Never laid a hand on him, never want to, never will.” Tony mumbled, turning back around to face the workbench. “Peter’s good. Better than me. Better than you. I’d never willingly or intentionally hurt him.”
“Mr. Stark’s not like that.”
Clint furrowed his eyebrows, thoroughly confused at the title. Why was the kid calling his dad “Mr. Stark”? Before Clint could ask him, however, Peter mockingly saluted and then turned on his heel to leave. Now it was just the two of them. That was fine. It definitely wasn’t making every single thought run rampant through his brain.
Tony didn’t seem to mind that Clint was still in the room. In fact, it didn’t stop his activities for more than a second. His hands moved quickly, picking things up and moving them and reaching across the table. Flashes of blurs from the speed. It didn’t help Clint at all. Though, Tony seemed at ease as he moved around the workplace.
For his own sake, Clint decided to look around. If Tony no longer minded that he was on this floor, he wouldn’t mind that he was looking around, right? There was a short hallway to the right, just one bathroom with one bedroom so that Bruce could be alone when he needed to. This whole floor was dedicated to him, he’d always had it. Before, Tony had also been living with him, and had a room next to his. That room seemed to have vanished, probably adding space into Bruce’s.
“Do you need something?” Tony’s voice called from where he was still mixing chemicals. Clint turned back around, moving towards the engineer now. He was nodding, he realized, and stopped as soon as he did. A small “yes” was uttered, and Tony swiveled to face him again.
“Why does your kid not call you Dad?” Clint blurted. It wasn’t what he had wanted to say, but now that he had thought about it for longer than 2 seconds (a record, honestly) it was bugging him. Bugged him even more when Tony started laughing. There really was no reason to laugh. Didn’t Tony - of all people - know how terrible it was not to allow your kid to call you Dad? Or that it wasn’t a good sign when your kid up and decided to stop calling you Dad?
“Peter- he’s- he isn’t mine, Clint.” First name. Okay, doing a bit better now.
“Tony, I’m a trained spy, that kid’s a miniature version of you. No way he isn’t yours.” That seemed to stump the man for a second. His eyes widened the slightest bit, his top lip curled, his brows furrowed. Just as soon as it happened, his expression was back to an amused smirk.
“Well, I’ve only known him a few months.” Clint raised an eyebrow, expecting there was more to the story since Peter was allowed on the floor everyone else was banned from. Eventually, Tony gave in. “His parents died when he was 2 or 3, in a car crash. His uncle died last year, gun shot. His aunt died last month, mugging. I took him in, I’m all he has.”
Clint listened with intent. He wanted to know more about the relationship between Tony and Peter. It was pure, what they had. Unstained, untainted. He wanted that with Tony too. He wished he could erase the events of June and have everyone get along again, but that was stupid. He knew it was stupid because it was his idea.
“I’m sorry for taking Steve’s side, Tony. I really am. Wanda- she-” a pause, “I owed a debt. And I had to repay it. This was the way.” Clint hoped he sounded as regretful as he felt. He didn’t mean to hurt the man. He didn’t know that it would get so out of hand.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry too, by the way, y’know, for what it’s worth.” Tony sniffed, “Probably not worth a whole lot, but I am. Sorry, I mean.”
Clint laughed. Honest to the gods laughed. And it felt good, maybe this was all going to be okay after all. The thought was reinforced when Tony started laughing along with him. This could be their turning point, it could be the moment where Tony forgives him for everything he’s ever said or done that offended him, where Clint does the same, and they live happily ever after. More than co-workers, more than friends, hopefully family.
It was a nice thought - a good thought - but it got nipped in the bud almost immediately. After a few moments, Tony had sobered up, no longer laughing. There was barely a trace of a smile left on his face.
“Was it just to repay a debt? Or was it more?” Tony whispered, sounding unsure of himself. That caught Clint off guard. He knew that Tony was more than what the tabloids and reporters said about him, but he’d never seen this side himself.
“It was to repay a debt, Tony. If I had- if I had seen it coming, Pietro wouldn’t have had to die.” Clint chuckled humorlessly at his own pun. He was sure that Quicksilver was laughing his ass off in heaven, knowing that the phrase stuck with Clint all this time, but he couldn’t seem to share the amusement.
“Then it’s okay. I don’t blame you for wiping your ledger clean.”
And then, it was time for Clint to say something insanely stupid. Y’know, like he always did.
“You should talk to Steve.”