Mini-Barton's Sleep Disruptions

“Heya, ‘Tash,” Clint’s voice came from where the little boy and the deadly assassin were napping.  Bucky’s eyes flew open, but he didn’t move.  Clint turned over to face Natasha, keeping his spot on Bucky’s arm so he wouldn’t move. “Did ya miss me?”

From where she sat, too casual to actually be relaxed, she sat up, her eyes narrowed.  She turned her eyes to the little boy and saw something she had been afraid she’d never see again. His eyes no longer were young and guileless.  His mouth held a half smile she’d learned a long time ago that meant Clint was tired.  But it belonged to adult Clint, not the little boy. 

“He’s sleeping,” the small mouth said. 

She glanced at Bucky, who only shrugged his free arm, his eyes wide and confused.  Clint huffed a little, not quite a laugh, but she suddenly knew. She sat forward in the chair, fully alert and focused on him.

“Clint?” 

He blinked at her slowly as he nodded.

“I’ve been trying to reach you.” He reached towards her and she didn’t hesitate to take his hand. She must have put too much emotion into it because he twitched.

“Easy, don’t wake him up just yet.”  She let up on her grip but didn’t pull away. 

“How?  What is happening?”  She glanced at Bucky who was frozen, as though afraid to move.  She knew without looking that Tony was now in the doorway, both arms braced on the frame.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony swore softly.  Clint tilted his head towards him and smirked.

“Hey, Tin Can.” 

Tony ran a hand over his face and took a step further in.

“How?!”

Clint sighed.

“I don’t really know, but I can talk to him…me…myself? But only when he’s asleep.”

By now Steve and Bruce were both wide-eyed, standing behind Tony, moving slowly, like they were trying not to break the magic moment.  Bucky was looking between them all, but mostly they focused on the boy laying next to him. 

“I’ve been trying…,” Clint said, then grimaced as his body shuddered. “But I feel like I’m…fading.” He faced Natasha directly. 

“No,” Tony said what Natasha would not.

“Sir,” Jarvis spoke up softly. “Hawkeye has reconnected to my servers. He has been continuously scanning Master Clint.  There are two brainwave patterns, but they are fluctuating.”  There was a very pregnant pause. “It appears one is overwhelming the other.” Tony appeared startled.

“We’ll find a way.  We’ll keep trying. You have to hold on.”

Clint sighed and shook his head. He squeezed Natasha’s hand lightly, but she got what he was not saying.  She dropped to her knees next to the bed and rested her forehead against his.  Her body went still as he shuddered again.

“’Tash,” he said softly. “He…I’m good.”  He smiled over her shoulder to the team. Bruce had tears building. “I’m here. One way or another.” 

He shuddered again and then curled up, pulling out of Natasha’s grasp and sitting up fast, breathing hard as though in a nightmare.  He blinked rapidly, looking around.  Upon seeing the sadness and devastation on all their faces, he glanced back at Bucky, catching the utter confusion.  The age and wisdom that had weighed his features previously were gone and the young boy was back in control.  Natasha had bowed her head to the mattress in a moment of vulnerability.  He frowned, his bottom lip trembling, then burst into tears.

That seemed to break the hold the moment had on the team.  

Bucky sat up and pulled the boy into a hug, Clint’s arms going around his neck as he hid his sobs into his neck.  They were all shocked at the tenderness in the movement.  This was not the Winter Soldier.  This was Bucky Barnes.  This is what Clint had done without doing anything more than being himself. 

“Shhhh,” Bucky shushed the crying child, using the shirt edge to wipe the tears away. “You’re okay, right?”

Clint shrugged even as he hiccupped while catching his breath.  He mumbled something into Bucky’s shoulder and the man leaned further into the hug, laying his cheek against the small, blond head, and patting his back with his flesh hand.  Clint mumbled something else and Bucky’s confused look turned to Steve who had picked it up with his super hearing.  Steve leaned heavily against the doorframe as he wiped his own face of wetness. 

“I don’t know, Clint.” Steve finally replied, then swallowed, looking to where Natasha had fallen back on her heels, her head up and face a blank mask.  “We don’t know what’s going to happen either.”

Natasha rolled up to her feet and turned towards the window, crossing her arms.  Her partner would have recognized it as her pulling into herself in contemplation and protection.  Clint turned his head and watched her.  He reached up and scrubbed at his own wet face. 

“You want him back,” Clint stated and her head spun, hair bouncing.  She chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment as she gathered herself.  Clint wasn’t asking.  He was just stating the facts as he saw them.

Apparently, another thing that was just inherently Clint Barton, not something he had learned.  He had always been observant. He had always been a sassy little shit.  The sneaky way he helped Bucky escape and then treated him like he was just another person who needed help, rather than as a dangerous weapon.  From the way Bucky had been acting since they discovered him with little Clint, the man was utterly wrapped around Clint’s fingers and powerless to defend himself. 

Clint had saved her from what she assumed was fate years ago and she was forever grateful to him for it. With a sigh, she realized that this was just part of Clint. Rescuing those who thought they were unsavable, giving them a new purpose, a new family.  Bucky had been a brainwashed assassin with Hydra, stored away, nearly naked, frozen in a tube.  Until they were searching for a way to reverse what was done to Clint and they had found him.

Then Clint had found him and woken him up, warmed him up, clothed him, and had given him a place to rest. He had given him no choice in the matter, except to acquiesce.  And Bucky had come forward from the blank slate that had been the Winter Soldier.  Bucky had awoken and his frozen body and heart had been thawed by the entity that Clint was. 

No matter if it was the scarred, worn-down adult Clint, or young, freshly adopted young Clint, the Barton Effect was in place and running smoothly. 

She couldn’t help but turn her head back to the window as she knew looking at the bright being currently being gently held by the man who had shot through her to get to his target once-upon-a-time would blind her. 

“I miss him,” she admitted.

“He misses you too.”

That…was too much.  She bit her tongue and stalked from the room.  Steve stepped aside quickly, then looked at Bucky with a new perspective.  Clint had watched her leave before turning his eyes to the others.  Tony swallowed thickly, turning to follow her.  Behind Steve, Bruce eased around the doorframe, looking in. 

“Hey,” Bruce said, his voice wavering.  He came all the way in hesitantly, stopping just inside as the Hulk took over, shredding his clothes, as usual, leaving behind the flex-weave pants Tony had helped invent to keep Hulk and Bruce modest in public.  Hulk squatted down heavily, just watching Clint and Bucky. 

He had been down to the lab where all the information that had been brought in when they’d located the cryo chamber.  Bruce had been sorting through it, trying to find anything that could lead to them reversing the de-aging.  He’d been holding onto the thought that there had to be something in the files, something that they had missed before, with the excitement of finding Steve’s long-lost best friend. 

Hulk had been irritable the entire time and Bruce thought it was because Clint had chosen to rest with Bucky rather than his big green friend, but as Jarvis had alerted him to what was happening, he’d rushed to the elevators. He’d caught part of the conversation with the remnants of adult Clint and it had struck him on why Hulk was not happy. 

The big guy was worrying about losing his little friend if they were able to reverse it.  He missed ‘Robin’, as Hulk associated him with the archer fox from the Disney movie.  Barton had always been nice to Hulk, had not feared him as Natasha had.  They’d just started training sessions where Hulk would let him climb onto his shoulder or back, or let him be thrown towards a roost.  They’d learned early on for Barton to have a grappling arrow ready, because Hulk’s strength was up the challenge, but his accuracy left a lot to be desired. 

Just like the rest of the team, they loved having the little boy running around.  They’d woken up to his night terrors of being chased or beaten by his father that were more visceral than the panic-induced late nights Barton had from Loki or other issues.  Barton’s nightmares were controlled by decades of discipline as a man on the run, as a spy.  Little Clint’s nightmares were frantic and reminded Bruce of his own rough childhood. 

What ‘fixing’ the situation would do though, would bring back their smartass archer, but it would hide away the boy back into the dark recesses of the man who quite possibly would have two sets of memories of this time.  If they could fix it, would he even remember this? Would Agent Barton wake up with the last memory being that building and that battle?  Or would he have new memories disconnected from his previous childhood? 

Their only concern up until recently had been getting Barton back.  But what would happen to Clint?

He must have made some sound because the little boy sighed heavily, then pushed against Bucky so that the man would let him go. Bucky raised an eyebrow at Clint, who nodded as he patted him on the metal arm.  Bucky twisted his body around so his legs hung off where Natasha had previously knelt, reluctant to let him go as the boy was his to protect, but also his shield against the angsty hand-ringing he could see from Steve, whose eyes flitted between them.  When Clint pushed again, Bucky finally let him go, watching him slide down to the floor.

Clint picked up the robot dog, putting him in Bucky’s hand with a smile. 

 “He’ll will look after you.” The boy leaned in and whispered a little too loudly.  “If Steve gets all grabby, Hawkeye can zap him a little.” 

Bucky knew that Steve had heard because suddenly he snorted.  Bucky smiled, gently gripping the dog, feeling the metal housing inside.  Hawkeye turned an eye towards Bucky.

“Woof,” he said, then turned his head with no mechanical whirring sounds, which astounded Bucky.  The eyes looked at Clint and flickered, as though winking. “Guard dog mode activated.”  Clint patted the little dog head before turning to where Hulk was sitting so forlorn. 

“Hey, Hulk,” he said, wiping the back of his arm across his face for the last of the tears.  Once Hulk looked up, Clint ran at him and leapt carelessly, fully expecting the big guy to catch him. 

And Hulk did.  His sad face lit up and he spun with Clint, who started giggling.  Clint clambered up to whisper something into the green ear, causing Hulk to nod and smile. They squeezed carefully out the bedroom door and headed for the TV in the front room. 

It made Steve laugh as he meandered over to sit next to Bucky on the edge of the bed.  He noticed Bucky’s concerned look.

“Hey,” he said.  Bucky took a deep breath and turned to glance at him, then away.

“Hey.”  They sat staring in silence through the open door to where they could just see the side of Hulk’s arm.  They heard the tv in the front room come on and Steve recognized the opening number to Clint’s favorite movie begin.  Disney’s Robin Hood.  Finally, after a few false starts by both of them, Steve huffed, making Bucky turn to face him.

Steve threw his arms around his best friend, dragging him into a hug.  Bucky was startled.

“It’s just stupid to not hug you after so long,” Steve said as Bucky finally lifted his arms and hugged him back.

“Yeah, you kept all the stupid with you.” When Bucky said it automatically, Steve snorted and then laughed.  Which of course made Bucky laugh and they both hugged, laughing.  After a few moments of them clinging to each other, the tension leaked out of them both and they sat back, smiling as they realized Clint and Hulk had twisted to look back through the doorway at them, then smiled and gone back to the tv.

“Guess we need to talk,” Steve said.  Bucky blinked, realizing just how much that little blond boy had done in such a short amount of time. 

“I’m guessing,” Bucky replied, “that you have a lot of information on me and where I’ve been.” His friend looked at him with a shrug. 

They stood up, both of them looking at the warm clothes Clint had provided him.  Bucky brushed his hand over his now dry hair, pulling it back away from his face from where it had drifted up during his nap.  They headed through the rooms towards the elevator, Bucky stopping to hand Hawkeye back to the little boy. Handing over the last shield between himself and Steve felt like a new door opening for him and he couldn’t help but reach out to tousle the blond head. 

“So,” Bucky said as the elevator doors closed behind them, leaving little Clint and Hulk to their show. “Tell me about your little family.”