Missouri? More like misery.
The quinjet’s motors shut off just as Peter stepped off out of it and onto the grassy fields of Hawkeye’s family farm.
Happy got off just after him, and clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Welcome to paradise, kid.”
Peter looked around. The scene that greeted him could be described as dreary at best. It was the very end of summer, and from the looks of it, the life had been drained out of the plants by the heat long ago. The leaves on the trees were spotted brown, and even the grass was yellowing. And still, a slight humidity hung in the air.
Besides the trees that lined the grass, there wasn’t much to the place. Out across the field sat what Peter assumed was the main house. It looked like it had originally been painted white, but time had turned it dusty and grey. A covered porch pulled out in front, and there was a worn American flag hanging next to the door. Another building over to the right made of old wood looked like an actual barn. As if to prove it, a cow’s moo rang out towards them.
He groaned. “Happy, come on. You can’t be serious about this, right? This is the middle of nowhere. I can’t -- I can’t be here, while everyone else is --”
Happy rolled his eyes and nudged Peter towards the house. “Don’t start again,” he warned.
“Listen to me, though!” Peter implored, digging his feet into the dirt. “How does this fix anything? I can’t protect --”
“You don’t need to protect anybody,” Happy said firmly. “You really think I would leave May -- or anybody -- in danger?”
Peter looked to the side. “No,” he grumbled.
“Exactly,” Happy said, sounding satisfied. “Besides, he’s after you, remember? Better to have you someplace nobody even knows exists.”
“Well, why couldn’t we have brought everyone here? Or -- why couldn’t I have gone to stay with Pepper and Morgan?”
Happy sighed impatiently, looking down at Peter for a moment. “This is the best way,” he said eventually. “You know it is. Everybody agreed. So just relax, okay? Think of this as… as a vacation,” he suggested, shrugging.
Peter looked around again, unimpressed. “Whoopee,” he muttered.
“That’s the spirit. Now, come on. I don’t want to be here any longer than I need to; I’m allergic to grass.” Happy stepped past him, walking for the house.
Peter looked back at the quinjet before heaving his bag over his shoulder with a huff and following after him through the path he left in the field.
This had to be the worst deal in the history of bad deals, he thought. He and everyone close to him was in danger because of Mysterio’s announcement. But now instead of letting Peter stay close to the action, where he could keep everyone safe, May and Happy had decided the best plan was to send him out to the sticks.
He wasn’t even allowed to keep his phone, for crying out loud. They were too afraid someone could track it. If he wanted to talk to MJ, he’d have to use the landline. It was a crime.
The door to the house opened before they’d even stepped onto the porch.
“Laura, they’re here!” A voice called into the house. Then Clint Barton stepped outside.
Happy waved, “Hey there.”
“Happy!” Clint greeted warmly. “And, hey Peter! Glad to see you made it in one piece. I hear they’re fightin’ over you these days.”
Peter just huffed in response.
Clint raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Happy, who shrugged. “Right,” he said slowly. “Well, come on in. We’ve got your bed all made up for you. You’re gonna be staying with Nate -- I hope that’s cool. He’s the only one with a bunk bed.”
“Um, yeah, I guess.” Peter stepped inside after him, into a surprisingly bright and open kitchen.
A woman with long brown hair and an easy smile walked down the stairs and into the room from their left. Peter assumed this was Laura, Clint’s wife. He’d never actually met the rest of Clint’s family before.
“Hey, Peter,” Laura greeted, stepping up to him and offering her hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Peter shifted his bag and reached out to shake her hand. “Yeah,” he said. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“We’re happy to have you here,” she said kindly. “The kids are excited to show you around.”
Peter nodded. “Cool. Thanks for -- for having me.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. We’ve got lots of space here.” She looked over at Happy. “Good to see you too, by the way. You’re looking good!”
Happy gave a soft chuckle and patted the front of the suit he was wearing. “Thanks, Laura. You too.”
She smiled at him, before glancing at Clint and then back at Peter. “Well, I think Nate’s in his room, if you want to go say hi.”
“Nice, that’s just where we’re headed,” Clint replied.
“Great. I’ll go grab Lila and Cooper, then -- they should be out by the barn.” She reached up and squeezed Clint’s arm before disappearing out the door.
When Peter turned back around, Clint was already walking up the stairs to the second floor. “It’s just this way,” he called, his voice muffled a bit by the walls.
Peter followed him up. There were family pictures lining the walls, including baby pictures of the three kids. One picture showed Laura and Clint at what must have been their wedding -- Laura was wearing a lacy white dress.
It was interesting, seeing Clint in such a domestic place, and seeing him fit so well there. Peter wasn’t surprised or anything -- he knew Hawkeye had a family -- but it just all seemed so normal. It seemed much more natural than the discovery that Mr. Stark had moved into a log cabin and had a kid. Even after getting to know Morgan, he still sometimes had a tough time wrapping his head around it.
He noted the bathroom as Clint pointed it out, and then finally they stopped in front of a door with a child’s crayon drawings taped to it.
Clint knocked on the door. “Nate, are you in there?” He reached down and turned the knob. “Peter’s here!” The door swung open to a young boy sitting on the carpet, a toy car in his hand.
Nate looked up, eyes wide. He looked at his dad, and then back at Peter.
“You wanna say hi?” Clint prompted.
Nate smiled shyly, and waved, the car still in his fist. “Hi.”
Peter dropped his stuff at the foot of the bed and squatted down next to Nate. He picked up another toy car and flipped it around in his fingers. “Oh, I love Hotwheels,” he said. “These are so fun.”
Nate nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed.
“You wanna make a cool track with me sometime?” Peter asked. “I used to make these super long ones when I was little.”
The little boy smiled. “Okay.”
Peter grinned back and put the car down. “Cool.”
Clint chuckled and ruffled Nate’s hair. “Seems like you two might just get along.” He pointed at the top bunk. “That one’s yours up there, Spidey. Hopefully you like dinosaur sheets.”
“I think those’ll do just fine,” Happy said, looking at Peter in amusement.
Peter just rolled his eyes.
“Alright, alright. This room’s too small for us to hang out in here for long. Let’s go back downstairs.” Clint pushed them back out into the hall and then turned back around to Nate. “Why don’t you come down with us, huh?” Nate stepped forwards, and Clint pulled the kid up onto his hip.
When they got back downstairs, Laura was already back with Lila and Cooper. They were making noise as they pulled out plates and utensils for the table.
“Mom, where’s the --” Lila cut off as she spotted Peter. “Oh, hi,” she said.
“Hey,” Peter said, waving. “I’m Peter.”
“Yeah, we know,” Cooper said, putting a plate on the table. “You’re Spider-Man.”
“Cooper,” Lila hissed reprovingly
Peter just swallowed and shifted on his feet. “Uh, yeah. I am.”
Copper nodded at him. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Thanks,” he replied slowly.
“Remember what I told you, though,” Clint cut in with a wry grin, “he might be Spider-Man, but he’s lousy with a bow and arrow.”
Lila rolled her eyes. “That’s not important to everybody, Dad.”
Clint let Nate down off his hip. “Well, it should be. Maybe we’ll all work on that together while he’s here.”
“Go easy on him,” Laura teased, swatting Clint lightly with a dishtowel. “He just got here.” She turned to Peter. “You like meatloaf for dinner?”
Peter shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
“Good, because that’s what we’ve got. Happy, you planning on staying? We’ve got a plate for you.”
Happy shook his head. “Sorry, but I can’t. Got a few things I need to take care of back in New York.”
“Okay. Well, you’re welcome any time.”
“Thanks,” Happy nodded. “I, uh -- I think I’ll get going now, actually. Thanks for agreeing to take Peter in, for the time being. I’ll keep you updated with everything that’s going on.”
“Sounds good,” Clint said. “We promise not to get into too much trouble here.”
Happy scoffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” He turned to Peter and reached up to pat him on the shoulder. “Alright, kid. That’s it, then. I’ll tell your aunt you settled in nicely.”
Peter looked over at where the Barton family was still setting the table, and back again. “Okay,” he said lowly.
“I’ll talk to you soon. Call me if you need anything, or if there’s an emergency. Like, an actual emergency.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Happy gave him one last encouraging smile. “Chin up, Peter. You’re getting meatloaf for dinner.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Bye, Happy.”
“Bye, kid.” Happy stepped back and waved to everyone else, saying louder this time, “Bye everybody! Thank you!”
There was a chorus of goodbyes as Happy walked out the front door.
Peter heard the whir of the quinjet’s engines starting up again, and sighed as he looked back at the dinner table. This was going to be interesting.
Dinner wasn’t as awkward as Peter had expected it to be. The Bartons were a loud bunch, really, and they seemed to be able to tell that Peter didn’t really feel like chatting. So instead of getting interviewed, Peter just slowly ate his meatloaf and watched as they joked with one another.
The whole time, Peter was thinking of Beck. Because of Mysterio, Peter’s identity was out in the open.
The days since the announcement had been a rollercoaster. Happy had called him just after the video had gone public, telling him to get the hell back to the Tower. Peter had done just that, taking MJ with him as he did.
After that, it had been a series of terse discussions between Happy, May, and Pepper as they decided what needed to happen -- leaving Peter out of the decision of course. It wasn’t like it was his name that was out there or anything.
There was also the question of whether or not Beck was alive. It was certainly possible; weirder things had happened before. The possibility left Peter on edge and worried.
When Pepper had told him he would be going to stay here, on the Barton family farm, Peter had fought back. In the end, it had been MJ who made him agree to do it. He’d never been able to win an argument against her.
Now, though, Peter wished he’d fought harder. MJ, May, Happy, Ned… they needed him to be there, and instead he was going to be staying in the middle of nowhere Missouri for the foreseeable future. He was the one who’d been able to stop Mysterio before! If Beck tried again…
Peter took an angry bite of meatloaf. At least the food here was good.
“Are you guys excited to start school?” Laura was asking the kids.
“Heck no,” Cooper grumbled through a mouth full of food.
Clint shrugged. “Well, you’ve got one more week to mentally prepare.”
Cooper just looked sourly down into his plate. “What if I don’t want to go back? Can’t we just do homeschool again?”
“Don’t you want to hang out with your friends?” Laura asked.
“All of Coop’s friends are older now, remember Mom?” Lila said as she reached for her water glass.
Laura frowned. “I thought you made some new friends. The ones who did the play with you, right?”
Cooper shrugged despondently. “I guess. They’re kind of annoying.”
“Well, if you don’t like ‘em, just make new ones,” Clint suggested. “Don’t give anyone your energy if they don’t deserve it.”
“Or,” Laura cut in, “Just give them a second chance. Maybe they’re more fun than you remember.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Laura turned to Peter. “Maybe we should sign you up for school, Peter. I mean, it’s hard to say how long you’re gonna be here for.” She looked at him questioningly. “Would you like that?”
No, Peter thought. But he just said aloud, “Maybe, yeah.”
“Okay, well -- maybe I’ll call your aunt about it. What grade are you in? Are you and Lila the same age?”
Peter glanced at Lila. “Uh, I’m gonna be a senior.”
“Oh, okay. So a year older.”
Lila shrugged at him, amused.
Then suddenly there was commotion as Nate tipped over his glass of milk, and it seemed like the meal was over. Everyone got up and cleared their plate, and Peter helped the kids clean the dishes.
“We’ve got cookies, if anyone wants them,” Clint said, putting a box on the counter.
“Can I have a cookie?” Nate asked, reaching his hand up towards his dad.
Clint smiled and grabbed one for him. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”
“I think we’re gonna watch a movie,” Laura told Peter. “Wanna join?”
“Yeah, sure,” Peter said.
Before he could join them upstairs, though, Laura pulled him aside. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”
Peter nodded, and the two of them walked out onto the front porch. The sun was setting, coloring the sky orange and casting the fields in shadow.
Laura smiled at him gently. “Are you doing okay?” she asked. “You don’t mind staying with Nate, do you? He’s a real sweetie. Most of the time, anyway,” she added.
“Uh, yeah,” Peter said, trying to sound upbeat. “It’s just… a little weird, right now. Sorry.”
“No, of course,” Laura said. She let out a breath. “Well, just treat this place like your own home, okay? You can come to me about anything.”
He gave her a small smile. “Cool. Thanks, really.”
They walked back inside, and Peter went to join Lila and Cooper for a movie. Since dinner was late, it was already almost Nate’s bedtime. According to Cooper though, that was a good thing, since they could watch something that wasn’t a kids movie.
As they turned the lights off in the TV room and settled in to watch, Peter was glad that they’d picked an activity where he didn’t have to offer much energy. Plus, it helped keep his mind off things for a little while.
When they turned in for bed, though, Peter just couldn’t get himself to fall asleep. Clint had told him not to worry about Nate, that he was a deep sleeper, but Peter still felt bad tossing and turning on the top bunk every few minutes. After about an hour of trying to sleep, he gave up and quietly climbed out of bed.
After realizing that the stairs were extremely creaky in the quiet of the night, Peter used the walls to get down to the first floor, and then stepped out onto the front porch.
The night was cool, and dark, with no moon. Wind rustled the trees and the grass. As Peter sat on the porch rail, he cought sight of the night sky. For a minute, Peter could only stare in wonder. He’d never seen so many stars -- and he’d been to space before.
Then he let out a slow sigh. It still wasn’t right, him being here. He could recognize that his protests would sound childish to any adult, but that didn’t mean they weren’t true.
“Enjoying the view?”
The voice almost made Peter jump off the rail. He turned around suddenly, and saw Clint standing by the door, his hands in his pockets.
“Oh,” Peter swallowed. “Uh, sorry. I --”
Clint just waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry about. This space is yours too, now, remember? But… why don’t you tell me why you’re out here, instead of getting some sleep?”
Peter raised his eyebrows. “I could ask you the same question,” he shot back.
Clint stepped forwards and leaned against the rail. “Well, I just thought I’d get some fresh air,” he said with a wry smile. “Plus,” he added, “you looked like you could use some company.”
Peter huffed and looked back up at the sky. Instead of answering, he asked, “Why do you live out here anyways? Is there even a grocery store in this zip code?”
Clint chuckled. “Yes, there is. And… We live here because we like it here. Because since no one knows this house exists, it’s safe. I can relax.”
Peter looked over at Clint. Sure enough, the man did look relaxed. Peter bit at his lip. “Well, it’s not really helping me relax,” he muttered.
“And why’s that?”
He frowned at Clint in irritated confusion. “I just -- I’m not the one that has to be here!” Peter said angrily. “My friends -- my family -- they’re out there! They’re the ones that need protection, not me!”
“They are getting protection,” Clint reassured. “What, do you think we’re stupid?”
Peter opened and closed his mouth. “No,” he said defensively. “But I should be there! I should be looking out for them! That’s -- that’s what I do!”
Clint shook his head sadly. “Peter, this isn’t on you. None of this is. It’s not your fault that your name is out there right now. And you know the kind of power Pepper has -- this won’t last long.”
“How do you know that for sure?” Peter said desperately. “What if I have to stay on this farm for the rest of my life?”
Clint actually chuckled at that. “That’s a little dramatic, Peter. You’re not gonna be here forever, no matter what happens.”
Peter clenched his fists, his face heated. “This isn’t funny! This isn’t a joke, this is my life!” He knew he sounded like a child having a tantrum, but he couldn’t help his anger.
Clint schooled his face and raised a hand placatingly. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, okay?”
Peter ground his teeth and turned away, looking out into the darkened fields. He could feel Clint’s eyes on him, but didn’t turn around. The silence held heavy in the air, and Peter could feel his throat tightening against the emotion that he felt.
Eventually, Peter spoke again, his voice thick. “I just… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what happens now.” He bit his lip, embarrassed at the emotion he was revealing.
“It’s like I said,” Clint said, softer now, but still with a hint of humor. “This won’t last long. You’ll be back to swinging through the streets of New York faster than you can say ‘public recrimination.’”
Peter scowled.
“Right, okay,” Clint said, holding up his hands. “Too soon.”
Peter let out a short breath and crossed his arms in front of himself. The crickets chirped loudly at them from the grass as he tried to organize his thoughts.
“Look,” Clint said eventually. “Just… try to have fun. Keep your mind off things. You’re doing what you can by being here.”
Peter worked his jaw before nodding slowly. “Okay,” he muttered.
“Good. Now… I think I’m gonna go to bed. But you’re welcome to stay out here and brood at the stars as long as you need to.”
Peter felt a smile come to his face despite himself. “Maybe I will,” he said, quirking his brow at Clint.
“Sounds good to me,” Clint replied, opening the door. “Goodnight, Peter.”
Peter sighed. “Goodnight.”
The door closed softly behind Clint, and Peter turned back to the stars, somehow feeling slightly more settled. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.