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Chapter Text

“Hey, James,” the young woman behind the counter smiled at him friendly and with a tiny wink in her eyes. “What can I do for you today?” she asked and Bucky couldn't miss the flirty tone in her voice. She was nice and she always flirted with him and he had always turned her down, he had a girlfriend and she knew it.

“Hey, Ashley. You know, standard fare. We're not up for experiments,” he smiled and she turned around and Bucky looked around in the coffee shop, took in the other patrons and regulars while Ashley prepared his order. “Cinnamon Dolce Latte,” Natasha's stuff, “two Caffè Americano,” his and Tony's, “Hazelnut Macchiato,” Steve's and inwardly Bucky winced, “Peppermint hot chocolate,” Thor's, “and Iced green tea latte, right?” That was Bruce's. He smiled and nodded. “Right. And a huge box with cupcakes, you know them.” He added and Ashley laughed. Of course she knew them. Thor had eaten a whole box alone one time and Bucky knew if he would return without cupcakes they would send him back straight away to get them. He just turned and wanted to leave the shop, the box and the paper cups with their drinks balancing on one arm while he tried to get his wallet into his back pocket with the other, when someone bumped into him. One of the cups started to wobble and then it fell. He just wanted to curse when a hand grabbed it in mid-air.

“Sorry, sir. My mistake,” a really young voice said and Bucky shoved his wallet into his pocket and took the offered cup. He looked at the owner of the voice, a young boy, maybe fourteen years old, dirty blonde hair in faded jeans, a purple shirt and a olive-green hoodie jacket.

“You have good reflexes,” he couldn't hold back. The boy caught the cup on its way to the ground, damn it.

“Thanks, sir. And sorry for bumping into you,” he repeated.

“No harm done,” he smiled. The boy smiled back and went to the counter and Bucky left the shop. It wasn't far away from the tower and five minutes later he left the private elevator on the common floor. In an instant he was surrounded by his teammates like a bunch of hungry hyenas. All of them wanted their fix and Bucky carefully grabbed his cup and stepped back, went to the breakfast bar and sat down to watch them. Thor already munched the first cupcake and smiled all over his face, some frosting in his beard and Bucky couldn't hold back the grin. The huge guy and his sweet tooth, he chuckled slightly.

“Oh, by the way, Barnes,” Tony turned and smirked at him. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“Why?” he asked and took a huge sip from his coffee.

“Why don't you ask your brother from another mother with whom he's going to the gala next weekend.” The billionaire sat down beside him, a huge, evil smirk on his face while Steve blushed so violently that the tips of his ears were nearly purple.

“Sharon? Seriously?” he asked and it was Natasha who nodded, the same evil smirk on her face.

“Yeah,” she patted Steve's shoulder who mumbled unintelligible things into his non-existent beard.

“Oh, Steve! How can you do this to me? Why couldn't you ask Maria!” Bucky huffed and placed the mug onto the bar.

“Come on, Barnes. Thou shalt honor thy gambling debts,” Tony grinned, smugly self-confident and angled for a cupcake. Bucky reached back to his jeans pocket where he always had his wallet... and found it empty. “What the...” he started and tried the other pocket but it was empty as well. “My wallet is gone,” he frowned and then it hit him. The boy with the purple shirt! He was the only one close enough to him. “Son of a bitch!” he cursed.

“Something wrong?” Steve looked now in his direction and frowned as well.

“My wallet. I used to have it in my back pocket and it's gone.”

“Seriously?” Tony blurted out, his eyes comically wide.

“Yeah... there was this boy in the coffee shop. He bumped into me, one of the cups fell and he caught it and I was so distracted by his reflexes that I didn't realize that he pinched my wallet.”

Tony started to laugh outright and even Bruce put a hand over his mouth to keep the grin on his face hidden. “Am I the only one who thinks it's funny?” Tony said when he had himself under control again. “I mean, a boy steals the infamous Winter Soldier's wallet? That's too funny, sorry buddy,” he still grinned when Bucky's face went dark. He emptied his cup and rose.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked now and all of them looked at him, Thor munching the sixth cupcake by now.

“What do you think? I go back and see if I find that bastard and then I'm going to strangle him,” he grumbled, grabbed his jacket and went for the elevator. Just you wait, my friend, he thought. No one steals my wallet. And with an angry glare he hit the button to ride to the ground floor.

Chapter Text

Yes, Bucky was angry. But not because of the lost money and his credit cards and driving license and the stuff, no, Natasha was right. He was the fucking Winter Soldier, an assasssin and nowadays agent of SHIELD, he was a legend and hardened criminals had peed their pants when they were confronted with him and now some underage street rat stole his wallet. If someone ever hears about this he could can his reputation. He had to admit the fact that he didn't notice the boy pinching his wallet had bruised his ego. Enormous.

He entered the coffee shop again and walked over to the counter, ignoring the bleating of the other guys waiting in the line to get their caffeine-fix.

“Oh! Hey, James,” Ashley greeted again and she rummaged immediately around behind her counter. “There was a boy here, gave me your wallet. He said you dropped it.” Bucky blushed in an instant. Did he read the boy wrong? Had he really dropped his wallet and the boy had given it to Ashley? She handed it to him and he opened it. His driver's license was there, his credit cards were there, all his stuff was there but his money was gone. It wasn't too much, about eighty dollars as far as he remembered but nevertheless, it was gone. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered again.

“Is everything all right?” Ashley asked and Bucky showed her the empty wallet. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Uhm... the boy... do you know him? Was he here before?” he asked and Ashley deliberated for a second and then she nodded.

“Yeah, I think he's here sometimes. Not very often, though. You know, people like him usually don't buy their coffee here,” she shrugged apologetically and Bucky knew what she meant.

He grabbed a napkin from the counter and searched for a pen. Ashley frowned but then she handed him the one they use to write the names onto the cups and he scribbled his number onto it, the one of his prepaid phone. He would never give her the number of his SHIELD issued phone. “Can you call me if he's here again?” He asked and Ashley's smile got broader.

“Sure,” she took the napkin as if it was a trophy and inwardly Bucky sighed. When this was over he had to get another number.

“Thanks,” he smiled back, took his wallet, checked if he really put it in his pocket and then left the shop. But on his way back to the tower he spotted a thin figure in faded jeans, purple shirt and olive-green hoodie. And the boy looked up the same moment, stared at him, recognized him and Bucky saw him swallow nervously.

“Hey!” he yelled and the boy made a few steps backwards, bumped into an elderly woman who fell down and when other people snarled at him indignantly he turned and ran away. “Hey, boy! Stop!” Bucky cursed under his breath but then he followed him.

That bastard was fast, he had to admit and he darted into the next side alley. When Bucky turned into the alley he saw a high fence at the end and he smirked but the boy didn't stop he ran to the wall of the next building, jumped, pushed himself off of it and could reach the top of the fence and with a smooth motion he was over it and already on his way to the other end. Bucky cursed even more – and he could curse in at least twenty languages – but he followed him. He didn't need to use the wall of the building, the bastardized super soldier serum enhanced his jumping power and he climbed over the fence just a few seconds after the boy.

He looked over his shoulders and Bucky saw him stop for the tiny fraction of a second but then he ran even faster and when he hurried out onto the other side of the street he saw a lot of people but the boy was gone.

“Fuck. Fuck!” he yelled and a few of the passersby looked at him and shook their heads. They were used to a lot of strange behavior here in New York but Bucky was right now really strange. He looked around once more but no one with purple shirt or olive-green hoodie. “Fuck!” he spat again, pinched the bridge of his nose and went back to the tower.

He only could hope that Ashley would call him should the boy come back to the coffee shop. And inwardly he already cringed when he thought about the smug smirks on Natasha's and Stark's face.

Chapter Text

Since the incident where the guy with his strange glove followed him Clint hadn't been at the coffee shop anymore but he had had a really bad day today and he needed something warm and sweet and comforting. He could go to another coffee shop but only there they made the caramel macchiato the way he loved it and when Rosa was there she put in an extra shot caramel syrup and sometimes she slipped him a cookie or a muffin when the manager wasn't there.

He reached into his pocket and took out the money he had left. Eight dollars and sixty-eight cent. Enough for his coffee and something to eat for himself and Lucky. Well, maybe not as bad a day as he had thought.

“Come on, Lucky. We're getting some coffee and then something to eat. Sounds like a plan?” The dog looked up at him with his one eye and woofed once. Sometimes Clint thought that damn dog understood each fucking word.

When he was in front of the coffee shop he pointed at the ground beside the door. “Sit. I'll be right back,” he told the dog and Lucky sat down. “Good boy.” He opened the door and went in, looked around and saw Rosa behind the counter. He went over to her and when he was there the woman prepared his coffee. And then she took one of the cookies and shoved it over as well.

“Thanks, Rosa,” he smiled thankfully and the older woman and she nodded pleased.

“You're welcome,” she said and Clint took the first sip of this wonderful dream of hot and sweet coffee with extra caramel and he closed his eyes. Perfect. Slowly he went to the door, took a bite of his cookie and another sip from his coffee and just when he was outside Lucky woofed again but not at him. Clint turned and then he paled. There was this guy again and this time he wasn't alone. A red haired woman was beside him and just this moment they had spotted him.

“Crap,” Clint cursed and walked in the other direction. The two guys followed him and Clint moved faster. The woman nodded at the guy and jogged in his direction and Clint started to run, his coffee fell down together with his cookie. Lucky followed him and he tried to hide in one of the back alleys but this time there were two of them and he had his dog with him. He ran as fast as possible through the small street, jumped over some rubble and slithered out onto the streets on the other side. But there was the guy and Clint had no fucking idea how he could manage that so fast. He ran in the other direction, the red head and the guy with his glove behind him but he got slowed down because of the people. When he saw a chance he grabbed Lucky and dragged him over the street, cars honked angrily but Clint didn't stop. He had no idea why this guy was still after him, he had given his wallet back, had only kept the money and he didn't look as if he couldn't get over the loss of a few dollars.

“Hey, kid! Stop!” The guy called. Yeah, sure! Clint thought and ran around another corner, Lucky still close behind him, when he saw an open door and a man just threw some bags into one of the dumpsters. That was his chance and he ran into the building, Lucky with him, and the guy yelled at him but Clint threw the door shut. He was in a small corridor that led to a kitchen and when he and his dog ran through it another man yelled at him and threw a pot in his direction. Clint ducked, hurried to the door and out into the guest room but there he saw the woman enter through the front door.

“Fuck!” he cursed, grabbed Lucky and shoved him into the men's restroom. Luckily there was a window. It wasn't too big but Clint wasn't big as well and he locked the door behind him, opened the window, lifted Lucky and threw him out. The dog landed in the street and looked bewildered but Clint climbed through the window as well. And then he heard someone kick in the door and he moved even faster and just when he thought he was out he felt a hand grab his ankle and god, that hurt. That guy had an iron grip and Clint yelped when he heard something crunch.

“Bucky, stop!” he heard another voice and this time the woman was in front of the window. How the fuck could she be there so fast? Lucky, that dumb idiot of a dog, stood there and waged his tail and let her ruffle his fur. The man opened his hand and Clint fell down onto the asphalt but he didn't expect it and so he couldn't prevent to hit his head and the last thing he heard before his lights went out was a hissed “Idiot!”

Chapter Text

When Clint woke he realized that he lay on a soft surface. He slowly opened the eyes and looked around. He was in a bedroom, a very nice and very comfortable bedroom, and the bed he lay on was the softest he had ever felt in his life. The room had two doors and huge windows.

“So, you're awake,” he heard a voice and he startled and turned his head jerkily. A man sat in a chair on the other side of the bed. He was older than the guy with his strange glove, had curly brown hair and looked nice. He smiled at him and raised his hands carefully. “Don't worry, I won't harm you,” he said and then he saw Lucky, that dog slut, sit beside the guy, his snout on his knee and let him pet his fur.

“Who are you? And where am I?” Clint managed, his voice shaky and he licked his lips and searched for an escape route.

“I'm Bruce. And you're at Stark Tower,” he said calmly and Clint's eyes went wide. Stark Tower! That's where the Avengers lived. Why was he at Stark Tower? He wanted to rise from the bed but then he felt pain in his left ankle and yelped slightly and he saw the cast around his leg. And he wore sweat pants that weren't his.

“Careful. I just patched you up,” the man chuckled warmly but still didn't rise, just petted Lucky and the dog had his one good eye closed and panted happily.

“What happened?” he asked and moved over to the edge of the bed and sat up.

“Bucky grabbed your ankle too hard and it's slightly broken,” the man, Bruce, explained, removed his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt before he put them back on.

“Bucky?” Clint frowned but he didn't get an answer because the door opened. And when he turned around and saw the man that had chased him he startled again, scrambled off of the bed and realized that he was on the wrong side of the bed and that he couldn't reach the other door as well.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down boy. I'm not here to hurt you,” the man said and stopped but Clint stepped back till he felt the wall behind him and Bruce eyed the cast warily, probably to see if he damaged it. The other guy, Bucky, raised both hands and since he wore only a t-shirt Clint could see that the strange glove went up to his shoulder and it looked like it was made of metal. “Calm down, okay. Not gonna hurt you.” He said again and stepped back and when Bruce nodded slightly Clint sagged down and sat at the floor.

“Don't have your money anymore,” he said and looked at the guy.

“Yeah, that much I figured out myself,” the man pointed at a small couch where Clint could see his jeans and the rest of his clothes, laundered and carefully folded.

“What the fuck!” Clint blurted out because now he realized they even had taken away his undies while he was out cold. “What kind of creeps are you?”

“The kind of creeps that patches up hurt kids and washes their laundry,” Bruce said and Clint glared now at him. And his damn dog still sat beside the guy and didn't even bother to come over to him, to defend him or what kind of stuff other dogs usually do when their source of food gets molested by some strangers.

“I'm not a kid. And I wouldn't be hurt if he didn't crunch my ankle,” Clint spat and folded his arms in front of his chest and when Bucky simply raised his brow and Bruce nodded he at least tried to get the attention of his dog and he whistled through his teeth, the way he always did, and usually Lucky came to him. Not today, though. Damn traitor, he thought.

“How old are you?” Bruce asked instead and scratched Lucky's chin and the dog waggled his hind leg and panted even more. Clint sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sixteen,” he said. He didn't intent to tell them that his sixteenth birthday was in two weeks. So, technically he was still fifteen.

“Sixteen?” This Bucky-guy blurted out and now his eyes went wide and he scrutinized him, Clint. “You don't look a day older than fourteen,” he stated and Clint got angry. He knew that he was small for his age, everyone told him and he also knew that living on the streets wasn't helpful in this instance.

“Yeah, well. We can't all be giants, can we?” the sarcasm dripped out of his words and he glared as angrily at the guy as possible. “So, what are you going to do now? Call the cops? The CPS?” He looked from Bucky to Bruce and back.

“No. No need to call the cops, I think,” Bucky once more raised his hands in a defensive gesture to show him that he didn't want to harm him.

“Listen, man. I can't give you your money back. That's... well... mostly in him,” Clint pointed at the dog who just now looked in his direction and seemed to recognize him because he wagged his tail.

“It's not the money, boy.” Bucky started, then stopped, frowned and cocked his head. “Do you have a name, by the way? I don't want to call you kid or boy the whole time.” Clint pressed his lips together. He wouldn't tell them his name. They'd call the CPS and they would send him back to the orphanage and Lucky would end in the dog pound where they would most likely euthanize him because no one wanted an older dog like him with only one eye and a rough fur. “Something I can call you if you don't want to tell me your name?” Bucky asked again and Clint sighed.

“Hawk,” he said. That was, what the guys from the circus had called him and Bucky's brows hit his hairline. “Take it or leave it but that's the only name you get,” he added when he saw the question on the man's face.

“Okay, Hawk. Uhm... thanks for leaving my wallet at the coffee shop but there was something in it that you took, something I need back,” he explained and Clint knitted his brow now. “There was a cent in it. A really old cent and... and I got it from my father when I was a boy. Do you have an idea what happened to it?” He probably talked about the strange cent with the rings on the reverse.

“No. Guess I just spent it.” He lied and he could see the man's eyes go wide now.

“You... you spent it? Are you...” he started to yell but when Clint flinched Bruce rose now and stepped between the two of them.

“It's enough now. You, leave,” he gestured at Bucky. “... and you, back to bed,” he pointed at Clint.

“I don't stay here, I want...” Clint said but Bruce interrupted him.

“No discussion. I gave you some pain meds and you need to rest. You can leave when you're fine but as long as your ankle is hurt,” he glared at Bucky who ducked his head sheepishly, “... you stay here. Got me?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled and then he wanted to slap his head because he never intended to call that guy sir. It just slipped out.

“Fine,” Bruce smiled now. “Come on, back to bed. No one will harm you, I promise but you need to rest,” he pointed at the soft bed again and Clint, who wanted to resist, felt the meds in his system and he actually was tired.

“What about Lucky?” he asked and Bruce looked at the dog.

“He can stay with me. He looks hungry,” he said and Clint snorted slightly. Lucky looked always hungry. But when Bruce came over and wanted to help him get into the bed he shook his head and hobbled over himself and sat down. He didn't intend to sleep but to lie on this perfectly soft and comfortable bed for a little bit more time couldn't hurt, could it?

“Pizza,” he said when Bucky and Bruce were on their way out of the room together with the dog and Bruce turned around once more, cocked his head and Clint repeated. “Pizza. Lucky loves Pizza,” he explained and the older man smiled.

“Okay. I guess that can be done.” Clint nodded sleepily when Bruce and Bucky finally left and only a few seconds later he was out like a light.

Chapter Text

“Agent Barnes,” JARVIS addressed him and Bucky looked up at the ceiling, some bad habit he couldn't get rid of. “The young man is awake now.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.” Bucky removed his boxing gloves, walked over to his locker and threw them in before he grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off of his neck. He took off his sweaty shirt and threw it into the locker as well before he put on a clean one. He jogged to the elevator and rode to the communal floor and went to the guest room but just as he wanted to unlock the door it swung open and the boy, Hawk, stared up at him, a bent paperclip and a ball pen refill in his hands.

“Oops,” he managed and Bucky raised his brow again.

“So, you're checking out?” he asked and the boy rose and stepped back when he folded his arms in front of his chest. He always stared at his artificial arm and swallowed slowly.

“Uhm... I... I just wanted... uhm... my dog?” Hawk went back and sat on the bed and he seemed pretty nervous.

“He's still with Bruce after he devoured all the leftover pizza.” Bucky leaned against the wall beside the door and tried to look as unthreatening as possible. But when he looked at the boy's face he had to admit that he wasn't really successful. “Listen, Hawk,” he hunkered down and placed his forearms on his knees. “You don't have to fear anything. I'm sorry that I nearly broke your ankle and...” He pinched the bridge of his nose. He really wasn't good with this.

“Are you hungry?” he changed the topic and saw the boy shrug. “Come on.” He left the room to fetch the crutches Bruce had leaned against the wall outside of his room. “Here,” he said and gave them to Hawk.

“Where are we going?” he asked but he took the crutches.

“What do you think? We have this room here... we call it kitchen, you know, and we used to keep our food there,” he smirked and Hawk glared at him.

“You're not as funny as you think,” he hissed but hobbled behind him out of the guest room. When they entered the kitchen they found Jane sitting on the breakfast table in the corner, lots of papers around her and mumbling to herself, and Natasha, leaning against a counter and glaring at something in a pot.

“Sit down,” Bucky gestured at the table and Jane looked up, her mouth open and her brows furrowed, glanced from Bucky to Natasha to Hawk and back.

“That's it!” she yelped, bundled together her papers and ran out of the room. Bucky sighed.

“That was Jane,” he explained when Hawk looked after her. “Dr. Jane Foster. Don't mind her, she's working.”

The boy didn't say a word, just hobbled to a chair and flopped down, placed his foot on another chair and then he cocked his head.

“What's that?” Bucky went over to look into the pot in the hope that it was something he could offer the boy as well. But it was only tea. With a sigh he turned back to Hawk.

“So, about something to eat... what do you want?” He asked and the boy shrugged again. Natasha watched him for a few more seconds and then she shook her head.

“Sometimes I wonder how you could survive so long without me,” she muttered, went to the cupboard and took out some bread, handed it to Bucky, went to the fridge to get the peanut butter and some jelly, put it in his arms as well and pointed at the table. “I guess you know what to do, right?”

“Right,” Bucky cleared his throat and started to spread peanut butter on the bread. Natasha sieved her tea, filled it in a small pot and left the kitchen.

“So. She's your girlfriend?” Hawk asked when Bucky handed him a plate with his sandwich. And yes, Natasha was right, PBJ was the right thing to do because the boy outright inhaled it and Bucky started to prepare another one.

“How do you know?” He asked and looked at Hawk, his brows knitted.

“'m not blind. And you stare at her...” he mumbled around his sandwich and blushed, “... backside.” He added then. Bucky shoved another sandwich over to him and the boy ate it as well, but not as fast as the first one.

“Uhm... you want something to drink?” He ignored the comment and when he heard Hawk chuckle slightly he rose and went to the fridge.

“Coffee?” He asked and Bucky turned around and closed the fridge.

“Are you sure you should drink coffee? I mean...” he pursed his lips when he saw the frown on the boy's face.

“Why shouldn't I drink coffee?” he leaned back and folded his arms over his chest and glared at Bucky now.

“I mean... usually children don't like...”

“I've told you, I'm not a child.” It came out harder than he had intended when he interpreted his following expression correctly. Bucky scrutinized him for a long moment and yes, he was right, he wasn't a child. He probably stopped being a child long time ago and that, that saddened him more than he wanted to admit. Apparently he was a magnet for lost children, first Steve, then Natasha and now this boy and they all had to grow up faster than necessary.

When he and Steve had been young it was war, young boys had to be 'men' far too early. And when he met Natasha for the first time she was a tiny girl but already on her way to become one of the most feared assassins in the world. And now, now there was Hawk. Bucky had seen him when Bruce had removed his clothes to get him in something clean, he had seen the scars and the far too prominent ribs and bones.

“No.” He took a mug out of one of the cupboards and went over to the coffee maker. “No, you're not a child. Not anymore,” he added quietly and he felt Hawk's eyes on the back of his head, trying to figure out what was in his mind. He turned and placed the mug in front of the boy who added lots of milk and sugar before he wrapped his knobbly fingers around it and slurped it carefully. Inwardly he winced but he also knew that sugar was a rare treat when one lived on the streets.

“This cent... what's so special about it?” Hawk asked and munched away on his third sandwich.

“It's old, I mean, really old. And super rare.” He scratched the back of his head with his artificial arm and he saw the boy's eyes stare at it but he didn't say anything and so he wouldn't bring it up as well.

“Is it of value?” He asked and Bucky snorted slightly.

“You might say that.” He nodded and once more the boy frowned.

“Why did you carry such a valuable coin around in your wallet? Wouldn't it be better to put it, I don't know, in a safe or something like that?” He didn't know if he should laugh now, getting scolded by the guy who stole his coin.

“It's not the tangible value that counts for me, Hawk. My mother gave it to me when I went to war, sort of a lucky charm. It was from my father who got it from his father and as long as I had it with me nothing happened to me.” He saw the boy's eyes wander once more to his arm and this time he nodded.

“It was a dangerous mission and it was possible to lose it and so I gave it to a friend to keep it for me.”

“Sorry,” Hawk said and looked at the now empty mug and Bucky wasn't sure if he meant that he was sorry for the stolen coin. “So. What are you going to do now? Call the cops? Call the CPS?” He asked again and Bucky shook his head.

“Why are you on the streets? Why not with your parents? Or in an orphanage or... I don't know?”

Hawk just shrugged and pressed his lips together, definitely not willing to explain himself, and Bucky sighed. “You can stay here till your ankle is healed.”

“Why does an Avenger care about someone like me?” Hawk asked cautiously.

“You know who I am?” Bucky raised his brow but the boy only snorted.

“I live on the streets, not under a rock.”

“Because it was me who hurt you and I don't want you to wander around on the streets with a cast around your leg, alone and without medical help. And by the way, that's what we do. We help people.” Now it was Bucky who shrugged and Hawk nodded. But just as he opened his mouth to say something they both heard a noise and a few seconds later a dirty fur ball hurried into the kitchen, put both forelegs on the boy's knee and licked his face enthusiastic.

“Hey, you dog slut, finally come back to me?” Hawk chuckled and petted his dog and Lucky woofed happily and licked him even more. Bruce came into the kitchen as well, his arms folded over his chest and a smile on his face when he saw the empty mug and the plate in front of Hawk.

“You have eaten?” he asked and the boy nodded, still ruffling the dog's fur. “Okay, then with me. It's time for your meds and I want to check on the cast again.”

“Aww, seriously?”

“Come on, get it over with. If you want to you can use the Playstation afterwards but now let me check you.”

“Okay, fine.” The boy grumbled but he grabbed the crutches and followed Bruce, the dog on their tail. Bucky got up and put the plate and the mug into the dishwasher and put away the food before he leaned against the counter and sighed another time. Yes, definitely a magnet for troubled children and even if he had stolen and 'lost' his Fugio Cent, he still wanted to help the boy. He needed to talk to Coulson. Coulson always knew what to do.

Chapter Text

Three days later, when Bruce entered the living room he found Hawk lying on one of the couches, the crutches on the floor beside him and Lucky on one of the armchairs, lifting his head as soon as he heard him.

“You shouldn't be on Thor's armchair,” Bruce sighed and gestured with his head but the dog only started to pant. He never thought about to move his furry ass and Hawk chuckled slightly.

“Nice try,” he said but didn't rise, just watched whatever show this was. “So, why are you here while the others are out? You got the short straw?”

“No. But those galas are not my cup of tea,” he smiled. “I volunteered to stay with you.”

“I don't need a babysitter,” Hawk grumbled and turned back to the TV.

Bruce shook his head, grabbed the book he had left on the end table and sat down at another couch. They both were quiet for a few minutes, the only noises came from the huge TV but then the boy turned his head and looked at him.

“Whatcha reading?”

“Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban,” he said and smiled. He had read all of them a few times but he really enjoyed the books and had started a few days ago to reread them.

“Is it good?” Hawk asked curiously and Bruce couldn't stop himself from raising both his brows. He had never met a child before who hadn't read Harry Potter, at least not in the western world and even in his time in India every other child knew at least about Harry Potter.

“Yes, it's pretty good. I've read all of them a few times and I still like them.”

“There's more than one?” Hawk still looked in his direction, forgotten about the TV and the show.

“Yeah, there are seven books.” He said and saw the boy frown. “It's about a young wizard and his friends at a school where they learn about wizardry and witchcraft and where they fight against an evil wizard.”

He saw the boy nod and then turn his head back to the TV. After a few more minutes watching the boy Bruce rose, went over to the book shelf, searched for 'Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone', went back to the couch and gave Hawk the book. He looked at him questioningly but then, when Bruce sat down again and took his book to continue reading, he saw him out of the corner of his eye open it.

“Flying motorcycles?” He blurted out after a while and Bruce looked up to see him stare in his direction.

“Yes. It's about wizardry, remember?” The boy blushed violently but hid again behind the book and Bruce carefully watched him. He needed much time to turn a page and Bruce saw him move his lips while reading as if he read it to himself. He had seen this behavior before, but that was in third world countries when people, who couldn't read very well, tried to spell out the words to understand them.

Bruce looked back in his book but his mind was still over with the boy. He was pretty sure that it was quite some time ago he had seen a school from the inside but he didn't seem to be dumb. Yesterday he was with him in his lab and he had watched Bruce working on his newest experiment. Sometimes he had asked questions and those questions bore witness to his acuteness of mind and he had realized that he actually understood what Bruce did and was interested. He wondered what this boy could've become if properly schooled. Maybe he should talk to Tony about...

“What?” Hawk asked, a brow raised, and looked at him and Bruce blushed when he discovered that he had stared at him.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said and Hawk shrugged, it was a strange gesture, only half shrug but also half nod. “Where are your parents?”

Hawk blushed and pressed his lips tight together. He didn't answer for quite some time but then, when Bruce still looked in his direction he licked his lips, raised the book he held in his hand and snorted a bitter laugh.

“Me and Harry Potter, we have something in common. We're both orphans,” he finally said quietly and Bruce nodded. And then he smiled.

“Yeah. Me too,” he admitted and Hawk frowned again. He could clearly see the question on his face if he wanted to bullshit him or if he thought because he was so old that it was obviously that his parents were dead.

Bruce took a deep breath. Maybe he had to open up first if he wanted the boy to do so as well. He closed his book and placed it back on the end table, took of his glasses and cleaned them before he put them back on. “When I was eight my father killed my mother, just beat her to death when he had one of his tantrums. They put me into an orphanage but then I could live with my aunt while my father was in jail. He got executed a few years later,” he explained and saw the boy pale.

“Wow... that's... I'm sorry,” Hawk looked at his fingers and then at the TV before he turned back to him.

“My dad drove while drunk and my mom was in the car with him. They had an accident,” he said and looked away again. He drew his uninjured leg up to his body.

“How old have you been?” Bruce asked and he could see the boy wipe his nose with the back of his hand.

“Six.”

“And then you've been in the orphanage?”

“Yes, but it was awful there and we ran away two years later.”

“We?” Bruce furrowed his brows but this time Hawk didn't answer, he blushed, grabbed the book and opened it again.

Bruce didn't push him and took his own book to read again but after a while he saw the boy hide a yawn and squeeze his eyes with his fingers as if he had a headache and tried to shove it away. But when he realized that Bruce had seen it he pretended to be relaxed.

“How do you like the book?” Bruce asked and Hawk looked up now. He pursed his lips, and put his chin on the knee of his uninjured leg.

“This is a children's book, right?” He nodded and the boy cocked his head, looked at him curiously, tried to assess if he wanted to stultify him.

“Yes, it is. At least the first few but the last few are pretty dark and honestly, I wouldn't let a child read them.”

“But why are you reading a children's book?” Hawk asked now and Bruce exhaled audibly.

“Sometimes, I think, it's important to be a child again,” he said and the boy's face darkened but he couldn't say if he was angry or embarrassed. “Look, those books are good books, they are fun to read and I enjoy them a lot. It doesn't matter to me that the first ones were meant for children. And I'm not ashamed to read children's books. Lots of people have read them and most of them were grown ups. It's the inner child we need to preserve, do you understand that?” Hawk nodded and this time he couldn't hide the yawn. “Okay, time to go to bed? You can take the book with you and when you're finished with it and want more, the others are over there in the shelf.” Bruce pointed in the direction and Hawk yawned again. He handed Bruce the book, grabbed the crutches and hobbled this time without complaining – the last few days he had always insisted that he wasn't tired when they sent him to bed – to his room. Bruce knew that JARVIS would monitor him and call him should he try again to leave the tower. On his way to Hawk's room he stopped at the kitchen, fetched a bottle of soda out of the fridge and placed both, the book and the soda, on Hawk's nightstand.

“Do you need anything?” He asked and heard the dog trotting into the room as well and as soon as Hawk lay in the bed he jumped onto the free space at the foot board, curled up and closed his eyes again.

“No, I'm fine,” Hawk said and Bruce nodded. But when he wanted to leave the boy stopped him.

“Bruce? Do you... do you miss your mom? Sometimes?”

“Yes, of course.” He said and Hawk took a deep breath.

“I miss my mom, too.” He looked at him but then he just closed his eyes. “Good night, Bruce.”

“Good night.”

Chapter Text

He managed two floors before the giant stepped into the staircase the floor beneath him and looked up at him, his girlfriend behind him and Clint huffed in frustration when Lucky barked happily and wagged his tail. He loved Thor, he always gave him pizza.

“So, what do you think where you are going, little Hawk?” the man asked in his strange way and Clint licked his lips.

“I... I was just... I was just... just... crap!” he pinched the bridge of his nose when Jane came down behind him and took the plastic bag he held in his hand.

“You know that JARVIS monitors the whole building, right?” she asked and Clint put on his most charming smile. It didn't work. “Yes, even the staircase.”

Thor held open the door and Clint went down the few steps and back into the living area of Thor's floor.

“You can't keep me here forever,” he grumbled and Thor frowned.

“Why not? Do you not like it here?” He asked and placed one of his gigantic hands on Clint's shoulders and shoved him to the elevator.

“Yes, I do, but...” he trailed off, bit his lip. He looked from Thor to Jane and back and it was the woman who nodded understandingly.

“You want to leave before Tony throws you out, right? Before you get too used to it.” She hit a nerve and Clint took a deep breath and looked at his feet.

“Why would we throw you out?” Thor asked now when they left the elevator on the communal floor again, where his attempted escape had started only mere minutes ago. He had put the few things he had in a plastic bag together with the shoe he couldn't wear right now, hobbled to the door to the staircase and picked the lock. He had thought he was sneaky but apparently JARVIS (damn traitor!) had ratted him out.

“Because... because... I'm a street rat and you... you are the Avengers...”

“Hawk, believe me, we wouldn't throw you out. At least not as long as you're hurt,” Jane said and followed him to the couch where he finally sat down.

“Yeah, and then?”

“Bucky won't allow that someone throws you out. At least not as long as you don't wanna go.”

“Bucky? Why would he want me to stay?” Clint looked at them disbelievingly. He hadn't spoken to Bucky in days and the last time he seemed upset because of his lost coin and then he had to leave to go on a mission, whatever that meant. Natasha was gone as well together with the suit.

“He likes you, little Hawk,” Thor said and chuckled.

“But why?” He couldn't get it. He had stolen from him. Why would he like him?

“I'm not a psychologist,” Jane said and smiled, “but I think... you're like a little brother to him.”

“What?” Clint's eyes went wide. “That makes no sense. He doesn't even know me, I mean, he broke my ankle and...”

“... and he's pretty sorry about it.” Clint stared at her and Thor for a very long moment before he snorted.

“I don't need another brother,” he muttered and curled up in the couch.

“You have a brother, little Hawk?” Thor asked and Jane rose and went to the kitchen. Clint bit his lips angrily and glared at him. He never wanted to tell them about Barney and now it slipped out. He was far too long here, he let down his guard already and that was dangerous, that was something they could use against him.

“I also have a brother. His name is Loki. He...” Thor stopped for a moment and then Clint looked up at him. “He did all this,” he pointed out at the city and Clint knew what he meant.

“It was your brother?” His eyes went wide. “You fought against your brother?”

“Yes. It was necessary. He would have hurt all the people here and he needed to be stopped.” Clint nodded. He was quiet till Jane came back, three mugs with coffee in her hand and gave one to Clint, one to Thor and kept the last one and she had already put milk and sugar in it, just the way he liked it. Why were all of them so nice to him?

“Your brother, is he older or younger?” She asked after a while and Clint looked at her before he shrugged. This wasn't a vital information, right?

“He's four years older than me.” He took a long sip of his coffee. It was really good. And a sure sign that he was right, he was here far too long when they knew how his coffee had to be.

“He doesn't take care of you?” Thor asked and Clint was sure the worry on his face was true. And once more he couldn't understand it. Why did they worry? They didn't know him?

“Oh, he took care of me,” he blurted out when he thought of him, Barney. That was, why Clint was here and Barney was only god knew where. Both, Jane and Thor, frowned when he had said it and he wanted to smack himself. Once again had he let his guard down. They lulled him in a false sense of security and then, then they will throw him out and...

“What did he do?” Thor asked and placed the mug on the coffee table. His stare was adamant and Clint winced slightly but shook his head. He wouldn't crack. Not this time.

“Did he hurt you?” The giant asked again and Clint took another sip of his coffee. He wouldn't tell them. No way. Thor looked at Jane and she took their empty mugs and left the living room and he was alone with him. And Lucky. “Did your brother hurt you?” Thor asked again and this time his usually far too loud voice was soft and gentle.

“That doesn't matter anymore,” Clint murmured and took another sip of his coffee.

“It does matter, little Hawk. Tell me, did your brother hurt you?” Thor rose from his couch and moved over to the one where Clint sat.

“Why do you care?” He asked once more and Thor leaned back.

“Everyone deserves a chance,” Thor said and shrugged and that was really a strange gesture from the big guy.

“Not me. I've had mine and I failed.”

“Don't say that.” Thor placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it slightly and it was alarming how soothing this felt.

“I've had my chance, Thor. And... and my brother... he and... and... they stole the money and I wanted to stop them. I've tried. I failed and I...” he stopped but this time he grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifted it and showed Thor the huge scar on his stomach. “I failed. I'm just a failure.”

“No. No, you are not. You have been brave and tried to stop your brother and his companion. You are very brave, little Hawk. Not many people would have done that.”

“But I failed. They stabbed me, left me for dead.” Clint felt a tear in his eye and wiped it away angrily.

“You stood alone against two but you did not step back. They are cowards, little Hawk but you, you have been brave. You say you failed? You did not. Your chances were against you from the beginning but you did not step back. Do you understand that? You are not the coward, they are. You are not the failure, they are.”

“But...” Clint started again but Thor took his hand and he looked up at he big guy.

“You think because we are the Avengers we are without fail? We are not. We all have failed. I have failed my father because I disobeyed him. I failed my brother and you see what happened here as result. Steve has failed and Bucky lost his arm as result. Bucky has failed and he became the Winter Soldier as result and it needed lots of time to get him back. Natasha has failed, Tony has failed. We all have. We all got another chance. And you, you deserve another chance as well.”

They both were quiet and then Clint finally nodded.

“Okay, I just got a call from Darcy. I need to...” Jane gestured at the elevator and Thor nodded.

“We are okay, Jane,” he said and smiled. She came over to him, kissed him, patted Clint's shoulder and left.

“Why are you all so nice to me?” he asked and watched the big guy once more.

“Because you need someone who is nice to you.” Thor smiled as well, got up and slouched on his usual armchair after shooing Lucky away from it. “But now, let us not think about failures or our brothers. Let us watch a movie, one who makes us laugh, all right?”

Clint slowly nodded. “Yeah, right.”

“JARVIS, can you show us the movie with the girl with the long hair? It is very funny.”

“Of course, sir.” JARVIS answered and Clint leaned back. Maybe the big guy was right. Maybe not. Maybe he should just enjoy the movie. He had seen it a few days ago and he loved it. Maybe he should just wait till his leg was okay before he had to decide what to do. Maybe he could enjoy the company of the Avengers just a little bit longer. They, at least, seemed to wanted him to stay. Maybe...

Chapter Text

“You can't hide in there forever, Hawk,” Steve huffed frustrated and stared at the locked door when he heard a muffled voice from inside.

“But I can try.”

“This is ridiculous. Please, come out and we can talk about...” Steve tried again when he heard something slam against the door from the inside.

“Forget it. I don't go back to the orphanage. Before I go there I rather jump out of the window.” Steve paled, turned around and gestured at Thor to be ready in case he really jumped. The Asgardian nodded, grabbed Mjölnir and went to the deck to watch his window.

“I didn't say you have to go back, Hawk, it was...”

“Maybe you didn't. But the suit said it and I don't go back! No way! If you want to get rid of me then let me go and I get out of your hair!”

“We don't want you to go. We just talked about...”

“How to get me in there?” He could hear again something slam against the door and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Agent Coulson and me just talked, Hawk, and...”

“Bucky promised that I don't have to go back there.” Steve turned to look at the other man that leaned against the wall and shrugged when he threw his disapproving glance in his direction.

“I know that and believe me, we don't want to shunt you off. Please, come out and talk to me. I give you my word that I only want to talk to you.” It took some time but then he heard the click of the lock and the door opened a few millimeters and an eye appeared in the gap. When he saw that Bucky was there, too, he finally opened the door and hobbled back to the bed to sit down.

Steve entered behind him and Bucky leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded in front of his chest and his hair bound back into a ponytail. He nodded at Hawk and the boy smiled at him for a tiny second before he looked back at Steve again.

“Okay, I'm listening.” He slid back and leaned against the headboard, his uninjured leg drawn to his body.

“First, I really don't want to get rid of you and I'm sure as hell don't want to shunt you off to the orphanage, okay?” Steve sat down at the bed and turned to face the boy.

“Agent Coulson and me, we just wondered what probably could have happened that you are so dead against it. And you came in in the very wrong moment.”

Hawk didn't say a word, he still just stared at him and Steve had to admit he really had a piercing gaze. Maybe the nickname 'Hawk' wasn't so wrong after all.

“Do you want to talk about it, Hawk?”

“No.” He shook his head. “You wanted to talk, remember?” Steve heard Bucky snigger from behind and closed his eyes for a second to resist the urge to turn and glare at him.

“It was just... in an orphanage there would be other children and...”

“Which part of 'I am no child!' was too complicated?” Hawk grumbled and pressed his lips together, the way he always did when he was upset.

“... and the social workers are...”

“Can you finally decide if you want to get rid of me or not?” Hawk interrupted him now, his head cocked and his arms folded in front of his chest.

“I don't want to get rid of you. We all don't. But don't you think it could be better for you? They can...”

“No! Fucking! Way!”

Steve nodded and then he squeezed his eyes with his fingers to force the upcoming headache away.

“But why? I don't understand it.” Steve huffed frustrated and threw his hands in the air.

“Have you ever been in an orphanage?” Hawk asked and Steve sighed but then he shook his head.

“No. When my mother died I could live with his parents,” he pointed at Bucky who nodded slowly when Hawk tilted his head and scrutinized the man as if he'd seen him for the first time.

“I've been in eleven different orphanages from traditional orphanage and group homes to some sort of a boarding school and in all of them it was the same: too many children, to less space, food, clothes, books or whatever you needed. You think it's bad to live on the streets? It's paradise compared to those fucking orphanages! Yes, I have to steal or to beg to get me and my dog fed because law says I'm too young to get a job but at least we have enough to eat. We sleep in tear downs? But at least no one comes at night and wants in your pants,” Hawk spat and both, Steve as well as Bucky, paled.

“I... I had... I had no idea,” he said and swallowed hard. He turned to look at Bucky and the expression his best friend had on his face was homicidal to put it mildly.

“What... there are orphanages from the churches and they...”

“... are not better. Maybe the nuns didn't molest one but they...” Hawk once more pressed his lips together and he looked at Bucky. When Steve saw the other man nod slightly Hawk closed his eyes for a few seconds before he continued. “... they wanted to heal me. Me and...”

“Heal you?” Steve frowned and he saw the boy blush and he looked at Bucky once more. He had no idea how it happened but apparently Hawk trusted him to a certain degree.

“It's not wrong, Hawk,” Bucky said now. “You're not wrong. Whatever they told you, you're not wrong.” He came over and hunkered down.

“They said I'm a sinner and I had to confess and to pray till... till God heals me...” Steve saw tears in the boy's eyes and he still had not really an idea what he talked about but apparently Bucky knew.

“No, you're just you. Don't let anyone talk you into it. You are not wrong, they were and they didn't have a right to try to change you.” Hawk slowly nodded and wiped the tears in his eyes away angrily.

“I can't go back. Please, don't make me.” He looked at Steve now and the desperation in his face made him want to strangle whoever had hurt him and Steve was by no means a violent man.

“No, you're right. You don't go back.” He rose, swallowing, and looked at Bucky who nodded at him. He had to leave immediately.

Steve went to the kitchen and rummaged around in the cupboard aimlessly before he finally took a mug and made himself a cup of coffee. He sat at the table and slowly drank it when Bucky came in after some time and sat down as well. He sighed deeply and pressed the heels of his hands on his eyes.

“He's gay, right?” Steve asked when he had emptied his mug and put it back onto the table. Bucky removed his hands and looked at him but then he nodded. “They... they tried to... to re-educate him.” It wasn't a question but Bucky nodded again.

“This is so wrong, Steve. I mean... it's... I don't have words for this.” Bucky shook his head. “They should've taken care of him and instead he got beaten and molested and... and... god, this is so wrong,” he huffed.

“He can't go back.” Steve stated and Bucky smiled. “I don't care what Fury and Coulson say, I won't send him back. No way.”

“That's what I've told you,” he said and apparently Hawk had talked to him earlier. Steve couldn't help himself, he scrutinized his friend for a long moment but then he rose, patted his shoulder and brought his mug to the sink.

“You're a good friend, James,” he said and Bucky raised his brow.

“Am I?”

“The best.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, just one drop and very careful,” Tony said and Hawk looked up at him, a brow raised as if he wanted to ask if he was serious. Tony nodded and the boy shrugged and added the drop to the mixture.

“Perfect. And now step back. Back.” Tony pulled at his shirt till they were in a safe distance. They only had to wait a few seconds and then it started to bubble. Hawk's eyes went wide and after a few more seconds a fountain erupted in the glass basin and it bubbled even more.

“Uhm... you expected that, right?” Hawk asked and went back a few more steps and Tony cocked his head.

“Yeah... no. I guess we...” he grabbed his shirt again and shoved him out of the lab, just in time. The moment they had closed the safety door behind them they could hear the boom, they could see the remains of the table and other stuff flying around and they could feel the security glass wall vibrate slightly.

“Cool!” the boy grinned and looked at Tony with a manically grin and he knew that he had the same grin on his face. But it didn't stay there for long.

“Tony! What the fuck happened here?” he heard an angry voice behind him and saw Bruce come over, green around the edges and really, really angry. Tony wondered why he hadn't turned to Hulk yet but hey, who was he to question him?

“We blew up the lab table and some stuff,” Hawk grinned at Bruce now and inwardly Tony winced.

“You... you've been in there?” he pointed at the lab where DUM-E just tried to extinguish the fire but only sprayed the foam on Butterfingers. Hawk nodded and this time Tony squeezed his eyes with his fingers.

“Are you completely retarded, Tony? You have to take care when you have a child around and...” Bruce yelled.

“I'm not a child,” Hawk interjected but the grin was still present in his face.

“... dangerous substances and god knows what kind of stuff you have in there. You ever heard the word responsibility? This was not only dumb, this was fucking dangerous! You...” Bruce still ranted but Hawk only shrugged and smirked at Tony.

“Nothing happened, Bruce,” Tony tried this time but the other scientist was only just getting warmed up.

“... could've hurt him! Did that ever cross your mind? You call yourself genius but you're so irresponsible, I can't believe it! What do you think Bucky will say? Or Steve? You will never, ever...”

“Bruce! Will you calm down for Chrissake?” Tony yelled now back and this time the other man shut up, but his eyes shot daggers at him. “Nothing happened. We're both all right. I just... maybe...” Tony stopped and huffed.

“I've told you, you've been wrong,” the boy said and sniggered smugly. “Comma fault. I've told you.”

“Yes, yes... you've told me,” Tony sighed and now Bruce frowned.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He demanded to know and crossed his arms.

“Maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny mistake in the calculation and...” Tony started.

“Comma fault! And I've told you!” Hawk interjected and couldn't hold back his grin.

“... and a certain smart ass who's apparently pretty good with mental math had seen it and told me. And it's quite possible that I may or may not have ignored it and...”

“You definitely ignored it!”

“... and the mixture may or may not have been not perfectly balanced and...”

“Boom!” Hawk spread his fingers to mimic an explosion and was in a really good mood but Tony saw Bruce turn even more green and launch into another ramble when the boy just let something drop that made both of them quiet in an instant. “Best fucking birthday ever!”

It took a few seconds but then it was Tony who asked, his head cocked. “It's your birthday today?”

Hawk paled. Apparently he didn't intent to let them know, it really just slipped because he was so excited and Bruce looked now at Tony, his brows knitted.

“Maybe,” the boy shrugged and the good mood was gone, he was back to his wary self again.

Tony looked at Bruce and then back at Hawk. “Well then, happy birthday, birdbrain,” he grinned and the boy started to smile again.

“Birdbrain?” Bruce cocked his head and Tony shrugged.

“He started it. He'd seen my suit and called me shellhead.”

“Happy birthday, Hawk,” Bruce said, ignoring Tony who just grabbed his phone and started to type.

Later that evening Clint was back in his room. He didn't want to let slip that it was his fucking birthday but he was so overwhelmed and he had had so much fun with Tony that it.. well... just slipped.

Bruce had dragged him to his lab to check him over. He said he had just patched him up, he won't let Tony hurt him again. But then, when he and Bruce arrived at the communal floor, he discovered that nearly all of them were there. Only Thor and Suit weren't. And Tony had organized a spontaneous surprise birthday party for him, complete with cake and presents. He had no idea how he had managed it, but hey, he was Tony Stark, he could do things like that, right?

Clint once again let his hands trail over the things the others had gotten him. He actually had gotten presents. The last time someone had given him a gift had been when he was a little boy. His mom gave him a stuffed dog and he had kept it till one of the other children in the orphanage had stolen it. Tony had given him the new StarkPad Nano, a small version of the popular StarkPad. He had already downloaded some music and movies and books on it and he had told him the battery would work at least two months once recharged. Clint had no idea what to say and Tony had just grinned and ruffled his hair. Natasha had given him a self knitted wool hat in purple with a bobble on top. It was cute, he loved it. Steve had made a drawing of him and Lucky, Bruce had given him a pile of books, Harry Potter, all seven books. Bucky had stayed in the back and just watched but when they had eaten the cake – black forest, Clint's favorite – he had taken Clint's arm and led him to the kitchen and handed him a clumsily wrapped package.

“You... you don't need to give me anything. I mean, I've... your penny,” Clint had stammered but Bucky had shaken his head and insisted that he took the gift. His hands had trembled slightly when he unwrapped it. It was a Swiss army knife and Clint had looked up at him open-mouthed.

“I... I thought maybe it could be useful whether or not you decide to stay. And you know... that... that we still... you know... want you to stay. Right?”

He had had that thick lump in his throat and couldn't answer and so he had done the only thing that crossed his mind, he had wrapped his arms around Bucky and hugged him. And after a few seconds he had felt the other man hug him back.

And now, now he lay in his bed, in his room, the knife in his hand, and he had no idea what he should do when his ankle was healed.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?” Pepper heard a small voice behind her and she huffed frustrated and turned around to see Hawk in the doorway watching her, his brow raised.

“I... I try to... to...” she pointed at the food on the counter and the she sighed. “I try to cook but apparently this is a really bad idea. I have no idea... this is...” she threw the knife she just used onto the cutting board and went to the table in the corner. “I guess I should just order in.”

“Can I... can I help you?” Hawk asked and blushed when Pepper looked up.

“You can cook?” She asked and wondered where he may have learned that, given that he was still so young.

“Not much, mostly some stews or soups, but sometimes I helped Maite in the kitchen and she showed me a few things.” Pepper pursed her lips. Another name, carelessly and contextless thrown into the room. This boy was tight as a clam with his past but sometimes something slipped.

“Okay, that's good. I've tried to make Gumbo. We, Tony and me, we've been to New Orleans two months ago and he loved it and I've thought...” she trailed off and looked at the chaos in the kitchen.

“... you wanted to surprise him?” Hawk asked with a smile and Pepper nodded.

“Yes. He had started to cook lately and ever so often he cooks for me. And he's pretty good by now. So I've thought it can't be too difficult when Tony can do it.”

“And then you wanted to start with Gumbo?” Hawk seemed amused and Pepper furrowed.

“Yeah... uhm... why not?”

“It's not the easiest dish. And Camille always said there isn't a real recipe for Gumbo, each cook has its own recipe.”

“Camille? Didn't you say Maite?” Pepper tilted her head. Maybe she could get something out of him.

“No, Camille was... she worked where I lived and Maite was... she was the boss, so to speak.” He explained and Pepper huffed inwardly. Again he said something and it wasn't useable at all because there was not a single information in it except for the two names.

“And Camille knew how to cook Gumbo?” Pepper asked and Hawk nodded.

“Yes. Her family was from New Orleans. She didn't make it very often, though, because the ingredients for her family recipe are so expensive but sometimes... it was delicious.” He smiled and his face had this dreamy glance now.

“The people who you lived with, they didn't have much money, right?” She asked and Hawk shrugged.

“Sometimes more, sometimes less,” he said vaguely and she was pretty sure that this was the reason why he had to learn to pick pockets. “It was always enough to keep us alive. When there wasn't enough food then Maite added water to the leftover stew, called it soup and baked some bread to eat with it.”

Pepper sat down at the table in the corner and Hawk handed her the onions and a knife.

“Can you chop them very fine?” he asked and Pepper nodded. A few things she actually could do in a kitchen.

They worked silently for some time. Pepper chopped vegetables and ham, Hawk chopped the chicken. But she saw how masterful he used the knife, not like actual chefs more like Natasha or Bucky used their knifes. Together they watched the chopped chicken and ham fry in the pot and then Pepper checked the recipe and they added onion, parsley and thyme and Hawk stirred it till it was nicely browned Pepper added boiling water and the oyster stock. They also added bay leaf and bell pepper Hawk put a lid on the pot and then he smiled.

“Wait an hour, then you can add the oysters,” he said. “But no longer than three minutes, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks for your help,” she smiled when he scratched the back of his head.

“No problem,” he smiled back and then he hobbled out of the kitchen.

An hour later Pepper had called Hawk back to the kitchen to season the Gumbo. She had made some rice and when they looked at the awful lot of the dish Tony, who was back in the meantime, called out for a spontaneous team dinner and invited all the other Avengers as well. And since Phil just was over to talk to Natasha he was invited as well.

“Courtesy of Pepper and Hawk,” Tony exclaimed broadly grinning when the team strolled into the dining room and wondered why they had team dinner on a Tuesday. “They cooked way too much.” Hawk blushed but when he saw Bucky nod approvingly he finally smiled and sat down with the team, as far away from Phil as possible.

They all praised Pepper and Hawk, apparently they liked their Gumbo and Pepper nodded in his direction and mouthed 'Thank you'. Hawk blushed even more.

When they had eaten up – there wasn't a crumb left, thanks to Thor – Hawk, Bucky, Tony, Thor and Natasha went to the living room and Phil assisted Steve and Pepper with clearing the table. She had insisted that they would do it alone because she wanted to talk to Steve and Phil alone.

“I have a few more crumbs to your new favorite puzzle,” Pepper said and started to load the empty plates into the dishwasher. “Wherever he was there was a woman named Maite, he said she was the 'boss', and a woman named Camille with a family in New Orleans.”

“Okay,” Phil said and wrote the names down. “Anything else?”

“He can handle a knife, but not like a cook would do, more like our two resident assassins would.” Phil and Steve both raised her brows.

“Oh, and...” Steve stopped, looked out of the kitchen to check if Hawk was still in the living room and when he saw his head between Tony's and Bucky's, playing Mario Cart, he turned back to Phil. “When he's really upset there's a trace of a Midwestern accent in his voice.”

“Okay,” Phil said again and nodded. “I hope this will help to find out more about him.”

“I don't know, Phil. I still don't feel comfortable to spy on him like this. It's... he's just opening up a bit and starts to trust us. To betray this trust doesn't feel right,” Steve stated when Phil put his notebook away and looked into the living room to check if the boy was still there. He was.

“You don't betray him, Steve. We try to help him. And on the other hand, we have to be sure that he is what he claims to be and not someone sent to kill anyone of you.”

“Seriously? He's a child even if he claims not to be one. What could he...”

“Natasha learned to kill with five.” Phil interrupted him and Steve closed his mouth with an audible click.

“We'll keep an eye on him if you insist, but...”

“Yes, I insist.” Phil said and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It still doesn't feel right, Phil.”

“I have to agree with Steve on this,” Pepper added and Phil finally nodded.

“I know. But as soon as I'm sure that he's no threat I will leave him alone. Okay?” Phil smiled that bland smile of his.

“Yeah, okay,” Pepper closed the dishwasher and started it before she turned back and nodded and saw Steve agree as well.

“Fine. Then I'll see you tomorrow in my office, Steve. Pepper, thank you for the invitation.” Phil waved goodbye on his way to the elevator but Steve looked at Pepper and then over into the living room, where Hawk just whooped because he had won again. And when they shared another glance they both thought the same, that – in this case – Phil was too paranoid.

“You coming?” Pepper asked and Steve nodded.

“Yes, let's get our asses beaten as well,” he smirked.

Chapter Text

Everyone, who knew Natasha, knew that she was one of the five most badass agents SHIELD had. Everyone knew that she was tough as nails. But no one outside of a tiny group of people knew, that even Natasha had her guilty pleasure: jigsaw puzzles.

This morning she had bought a new one – the Eiffel tower in 2000 pieces – and she sat in the living room with a cup of tea and the pieces spread out on one of the coffee tables and collected the edge pieces when she heard the uneven steps of someone who walked with crutches, well, or with one of them. Hawk, followed by his dog. She looked up to see the boy come around into the living room, a book in his hand and already on his way to the bookshelf but then he apparently sensed her and looked at her.

“I... I just...” he gestured at the shelf, “Bruce said it's... I can...”

“You don't have to explain yourself, Hawk,” she said and smiled. He nodded and hobbled to the bookshelf, put the book he had in his hand in and took another one out.

“What are you reading?” she asked but she already knew it, Bruce had told her.

“Uhm... Harry Potter,” he looked at the book and she saw him move his lips slightly. “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets,” he added after a few seconds.

“Bruce gave them to you,” she said and the boy nodded and moved a little bit closer. And then he saw the jigsaw puzzle on the table.

“Oh, your... your picture is broken.” His eyes went wide as if he expected to be scolded for it.

“That's a jigsaw puzzle,” she said and smiled again but now the boy tilted his head and furrowed his brows questioningly. “It's supposed to be broken because it's fun to put it together,” she explained.

“You mean... no one destroyed it, it's...” He furrowed hos brows again.

“It's a game. Did you never make one of them when you've been...” a child she wanted to say but then she remembered, he never had the chance to be a child. “You want to help me?” she asked instead and Hawk seemed unsure, looked at the book in his hand but then he hobbled over to her and sat down. Lucky seemed unsure what to do now but then he hopped on Thor's armchair, curled up, yawned and closed his eye.

“Okay, at first we'll assemble the edge,” she said and Hawk nodded and watched. Natasha put the first few pieces together but Hawk still just watched. “They don't bite,” she smiled.

Hawk looked at the pieces and unerringly picked the one piece that fits.

“Good,” she praised and his smile got broader. And he looked again for a piece and found it in a few seconds. And the next one and the next one. He always picked exactly the next fitting piece, he never had to try.

“Are you sure that you've never made one of them before?” she asked and he looked at her now and his eyes went wide as if he had done something wrong.

“No... I... I didn't lie, I've never...” he stammered and pulled his hands back as if he's burnt them.

“Hey, it's okay!” she raised both hands in to calm him. “It's okay, Hawk. I just wondered... you never have to try.”

“Is that... bad?” he asked now warily, his hands still close to his body.

“It's not bad. You have really good eyes, don't you?” she asked and he shrugged and by now she knew that shrug, they all knew. He only shrugged like this when he didn't want to talk about it because it was too close to his past. Something she should tell Coulson eventually.

Natasha watched him for a few more seconds but then she turned back to her puzzle and searched for another piece. She had to try three pieces to find the right one but Hawk didn't move his hands anymore.

“Hey, you can do it as fast as you want, okay? If you can find the fitting piece in one try then so be it. Okay?” She looked at him again and then, after a few more seconds, he nodded. And added another piece without trying.

“Natasha?” he looked at her after a while and when half of the edge was finished. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she said and looked up and the boy licked his lips nervously.

“Agent... Agent Coulson... he doesn't trust me, right? He thinks I'm a... I don't know... a threat or something like this, right?” He tilted his head and scrutinized her and even if she wouldn't admit it, his eyes, the way he looked at her, made her uncomfortable. It was as if he could look right into her.

“Why do you say this?” she asked back instead of an answer and this time Hawk sighed and wiped over his nose with the back of his hand.

“I... I don't know. It's the way he looks at me. As if... as if I would kill someone every moment.” He shrugged.

“It's... it's his job to make sure nothing happens to us, so to speak,” she explained and smiled when she saw his eyes go wide.

“It's his job to keep you safe? Are you kidding me? You are the Avengers? What can he do what you can't?”

Natasha actually chuckled. “You would wonder what he can do. He's one of the best agents SHIELD has and his super power is to look as harmless as possible. He's a good man, Hawk, and you can trust him. Maybe you want to talk to him for once?”

Hawk pursed his lips and then he looked at the table, at the puzzle and quietly added a few more pieces and closed the edge before he sat back and bit his lower lip.

“Yeah, maybe.” He said.

“Don't get me wrong, Hawk, I won't pressure you, okay? I just... I know that people have their secrets. We all have them. Some more, some less. Me and Bucky, we have some pretty dark secrets. It's just... what happened to you that you think you can't tell us?”

He looked at her for a very long moment, his lip still pulled in with his teeth and then he shook his head.

“I think it's better when I go now,” he said and rose, grabbed his book and crutch.

“You don't have to go. The puzzle is not finished,” she gestured at the table. “And I promise I keep quiet.” She moved her fingers up to her lips and pretended to lock them. Hawk looked at the entrance, then at the puzzle, bit his lip once more and sat down again.

“Okay. I guess I can... I can...”

“Help?” Natasha supplied and he finally nodded.

“What's that on the picture anyway?” he asked and took the box to look at the picture.

“That's the Eiffel Tower. It's in Paris, France,” she explained and he nodded again.

“It looks nice. Guess one has a great view from up there,” he said and furrowed his brows.

“Oh, it's definitely a great view. You can see the whole city but only for people without fear of heights.”

“Have you been there?” He asked and looked at her now and Natasha nodded. “Can you tell me?”

“Okay... uhm... I... we, Bucky and me, we've been there a few years ago. It's been on a mission and...” she told him about the mission while Hawk, still picked the matching pieces without a second try, listened closely, he downright absorbed her stories and when she was done with Paris she told him about Moscow, about Budapest, about London and Berlin and Rome and Sydney and Cape Town and the boy visibly enjoyed it. And he forgot his worries about Coulson.

Chapter Text

“Okay, hop on the table,” Bruce said and patted the space where Clint should take a seat. He looked warily but sat down nevertheless.

“What are you going to do?” he asked when the man took some tool and turned back to him.

“We're removing the cast. You're ankle should be fine by now.”

“Should be?” Clint looked from Bruce to Bucky, who shrugged, and back.

“Okay, it is fine,” he corrected himself.

“Do you know that or are you just guessing?” Clint frowned but when he heard Bucky sniggering he glared at him now.

“Hawk, don't worry. Bruce may be not a real medical doctor, but believe me, he knows what he does. He has patched up all of us. More than once. When he says your ankle is fine then it is fine.” He came over and sat down beside him. Clint looked at him for a long moment but then he nodded.

“Okay,” he said and Bruce switched on his tool and removed the cast. It tickled slightly and Clint bit his lip to not giggle. He was a little bit ticklish but he was pretty sure that Bucky had seen it nevertheless.

“You want a lollipop?” Bucky asked when it was gone and grinned and Clint couldn't hold back another glare.

“Still not funny,” he grumbled but Bruce nodded for him to get down.

“How does it feel?” he asked when when Clint made the first few steps without cast.

“Strange. As if the floor has bumps,” he admitted and Bruce nodded.

“Yeah, that's okay. It's because your foot was immobile for the last few weeks. But does it hurt or...”

“No,” Clint shook his head and made a few more steps. “No, feels fine.”

“Good,” Bruce patted his shoulder. “Then you're officially released. You shouldn't go for a jog right now but otherwise, you're good.”

Clint nodded. That was it. The day he had waited for. The day they said he was fine. He could go now. He looked at them, at Bruce and at Bucky but both just smiled and none of them told him to grab his stuff and piss off.

“So...” he finally said and looked at them again. “What happens now?”

“I'm going to my lab, I have some work to do. You, Bucky?” Bruce said and looked at Bucky then.

“I wanted to head to the range, training, you know.” Bucky smiled. “What do you want to do?”

“I don't know. Maybe...” Clint bit his lip and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Hawk, I've told you, we're not going to throw you out. If you want to go it's your decision but you don't have to go if you don't want to. You've talked to Tony, right?”

“Yes,” he looked at his feet and nodded.

“I'm pretty sure he said you can stay as long as you want.”

I've invited them to stay in my house and I don't even like all of them. But I like you and Pepper likes you and you're welcome here. Fuck Agent, fuck SHIELD. This is my house and I invite whomever I want. I don't care what they say, Hawk. My house, my rules. Do you get me?

“Yes, something like that,” Clint grinned now. “Uhm... do you mind... if... if I... could I come with you?” he asked and Bucky looked at Bruce and when he nodded he shrugged.

“Sure, if you want to. You probably get bored,” he said but Clint grinned and pointed at his StarkPad he had had with him.

“Oh, okay. Well then, follow me, my trusty sidekick,”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you're not as funny as you think?” Clint asked and Bucky started to laugh.

“Yeah, there's this guy, you know, he reminds me every now and then,” and he ruffled Clint's hair. He wouldn't admit in a hundred years that it actually felt nice.

“Children,” they heard Bruce sigh and then Bucky steered him to the elevator and they rode down to the floor with the gym and the range.

“Wow,” Clint breathed. He'd never been here on this floor so far. The range was great, he could tell. He and Barney sometimes went to one of the public shooting ranges when they were with the circus but most of them didn't have archery lanes and so only Barney shot there. But this range was top-notch. Tony wouldn't settle for less, Clint was pretty sure.

He sat down in the back on the floor with the ear protectors but he had shoved the ear buds from his StarkPad beneath them and could watch another episode of Star Trek. Tony had thought he might like it and he'd been right. But when he finished the episode he put the StarkPad aside, crossed his feet and just watched Bucky. He was damn good and Clint was in awe when he saw how fast he could empty a clip, remove it, put a new one in and start shooting again.

He just stared at Bucky's hand, the artificial one, when he apparently sensed it and turned around.

“I... I'm sorry, I didn't want to stare,” he apologized and Bucky shrugged, removed his ear protectors and came to the back and sat down beside him. “Everyone looks at it, it's unusual and I know it.” He moved his arm and let Clint watch closely.

“What happened?” He asked and when Bucky nodded he carefully touched it. What he thought was a strange glove at first was a high-tech prosthesis, that he had learned really quick but he had never touched it. It was metal but fully flexible, like a real arm.

“I lost it in the war,” he shrugged but when Clint furrowed his brows then he sighed. “I've been captured by some evil guys some time before and they experimented on me, gave me some bastardized super soldier serum, you know, like the one Steve had gotten. When I fell from that train I should've died but I just lost the arm and survived. The evil guys found me, built that arm and brainwashed me to kill people. Steve saved me, brought me back, you know?”

“You and Steve, you've been friends before the war, right?” Clint asked and Bucky nodded.

“Yes, I've known him when he was just this tiny runt who started fights everywhere because he wanted to do the right thing. He had heart, you know? And he still has.” Clint nodded again. “You remind me a little bit of tiny Steve,” Bucky added and this time his eyes went wide.

“What? No! No, I... I'm not like Steve, quite the contrary. I'm a thief and a liar and I... and Steve is... is a hero and Captain America, he's a good man and I...”

“You've done what you had to do to survive. Do you have any idea what we have done to survive back then? We've been no saints, Hawk. Far from it, believe me.” Bucky patted his knee and Clint looked over to him now.

“Okay,” he rose and held his hand, his real hand, out for Clint to take it. “Do you want to sit the whole day on your ass or do you want to shoot?”

“I've never shot with a gun,” he said but Bucky shook his head.

“No problem. I'll show you. So, what is it? Lounge around or learn how to shoot?”

“Shoot,” Clint answered with a broad grin, took the hand and Bucky hauled him up.

Bucky showed him how to load the gun, how to stand and how to aim and then they both put on their ear protectors again and Clint took a deep breath, went into position, aimed and shot. It was definitely different. A bow didn't have a kick for example but at least he had managed to hit the target and he grinned at Bucky. And when he gestured at him to continue he turned to the target again and emptied the clip.

Three inches away from Bull's eye, two inches away from Bull's eye, one inch away from Bull's eye, Bull's eye, Bull's eye, Bull's eye, Bull's eye, Bull's eye, Bull's eye. He put the gun down and grinned like a maniac.

“Wow, that's cool,” he said when Bucky had removed his ear protectors. “Everything all right?” he asked when he saw him frown at the target.

“You sure you never shot before?” he asked and Clint's grin faltered.

“I didn't say that,” he admitted after a few seconds. He wouldn't lie to Bucky. Not to Bucky. Not anymore. “You promise not to laugh?”

Bucky nodded and Clint sighed before he looked down. He knew it was embarrassing to use such an old fashioned weapon. All of them here had high-tech equipment and he had used a stick and a string. “It's... it's a bow. I've learned to shoot with a bow.” He finally admitted and now he waited for Bucky to start laughing. But he didn't.

“Seriously?” he asked instead and scrutinized Clint again.

“Yes, I know it's nothing to be...” he started to babble but Bucky stopped him immediately.

“No, god no. Hawk, this is... this is... fascinating! I've never met someone who mastered a bow.”

“You're not going to laugh?” He asked and now Bucky frowned again.

“Why would I laugh? A bow is a silent and deadly weapon in the right hands.” He stated matter-of-factly and Clint's smile got broader. He was used to getting laughed at when he told about his weapon of choice. “I'm pretty sure we can find a bow for you and then you can show me your skill, okay?”

“Okay,” Clint couldn't hold back his grin.

“So, you done here or you want more?” Bucky asked and gestured at the gun and Clint chuckled.

“More sounds good.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, with every bit of information you've given me I could reduce it to four possible names,” Coulson said and looked at his note pad. “He's either Marc Andrew Johnson from Lakeville, Minnesota, Daniel Elias Seavers from Bettendorf, Iowa, Clinton Francis Barton from Waverly, Iowa or Alexander Martin from Mount Clemes, Michigan. They all have some similarities, parents died in a car crash when they were six, have an older brother, all went to orphanages and ran away.” He came over for their weekly team meeting and to update them on his search for Hawk's past.

“I'd say he's one of the Iowa guys,” Tony said and waved with his hand.

“And how did you get that idea, Mr. Stark?” Coulson asked, his face the usual bland mask but Bucky could see a tiny vein on his temple twitch.

“Iowa. The Hawkeye state. Hawk. You get it?” He grinned and Pepper, who sat close beside him, turned, frowned and then shrugged.

“Could be possible,” she said and Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why don't you just ask him?” Sharon, who came over with Coulson and now sat very close to Steve, asked and looked around.

“We tried,” Natasha explained. “But he prefers not to answer questions about his past.”

“Why?” She pursed her lips and Steve, who had his arm around her waist, sighed.

“Because we're pretty sure that it was pretty bad,” he said quietly and when she opened her mouth again he just shook his head slightly and she finally nodded.

“Okay. And what are we going to do with this names? Should we ask him, hey, is your name by chance Marc?” Bucky asked now and Coulson sighed again.

“Maybe you can be a little bit more subtle, Agent Barnes?” He turned to him now.

“Yeah. Maybe.” He muttered and folded his arms over his chest.

“Okay, I guess we're finished. Are you coming, Agent Carter?” Coulson asked and this time it was Thor who shook his head.

“We have invited Agent Carter to eat with us, Son of Coul. You can stay as well if you like,” he smiled broadly and endearing.

“I'm sorry, but I've still work to do. Enjoy your meal, though,” he said and left the living room. They heard him bump into someone and then a muttered, “Sorry,” told them that it was Hawk and a few seconds later the boy came in, his dog close behind him. But when Lucky saw Thor he hurried over to him, placed his forelegs on Thor's knees and licked his beard. The Asgardian laughed and petted the dog who visibly enjoyed it. Hawk shook his head but he smiled.

“Ah, there you are,” Pepper jumped up and hurried over, grabbed the boy's arm and hauled him into the kitchen, her new hobby since she discovered that he could cook.

Bucky chuckled when he saw the desperate glance on his face and Natasha sighed and slapped his arm. “You're impossible,” she said and Bucky shrugged, nodded, leaned over and kissed her nose.

“I know.”

“Agent Barnes,” JARVIS woke him quietly and Bucky groaned. “Young Mr. Hawk's dog is making some noises in his bedroom, sir,” the AI explained and he sighed, rubbed his eyes, turned on his back and tried not to disturb Natasha too much. He grabbed his sweat pants and padded into his living room before he answered.

“What's the problem, JARVIS?”

“The dog, well, whines. I'm afraid it needs to go outside to relieve itself.” Bucky frowned.

“Where is Hawk, JARVIS?” he asked now.

“He should be in his room, sir. He went to bed yesterday evening and didn't leave it since then.”

Bucky grabbed a hoodie and pulled it over before he left his apartment to check on Hawk. But when he knocked at his door he only heard the dog bark inside. He turned the handle but the door was locked. That was strange. He never locked his door, Bucky pursed his lips.

“JARVIS, tell Tony I owe him a door,” he said and then he kicked it open with his foot. The dog barked even more and hurried out, his tail wagging and apparently waiting for someone taking him outside. But Bucky had no time, he went into Hawk's room to find it empty. The boy wasn't here.

“Fuck!” he cursed and went to the door to the bathroom but it was locked, too. He had a really bad feeling about this and when he once again checked his room he saw the package, where the Swiss Army knife had been in, empty. Locked door, missing knife? His blood went icy. He wouldn't do something to himself, would he? He had said that he would jump out of the window a few weeks ago.

Awaiting the worst he kicked in the door to the bathroom as well... and found it empty. “What the...” he muttered now. How could he vanish without a trace?

“JARVIS, call the team. Something happened with Hawk,” Bucky searched the room but only one pair of jeans, a shirt, a hoodie, his sneakers and the knife were gone. And then he saw something on the nightstand and his mouth went dry. It was Coulson's dreaded note pad, the one where he wrote everything he had gotten from them about the boy.

“Fuck,” he cursed, grabbed the note pad and skimmed through it. Of course Coulson had written down everything with the name from whom he got which information.

Natasha and Steve came hurried into the room as well when they saw Bucky with Coulson's note pad and no Hawk.

“Fuck,” Natasha said and Steve looked around, saw the destroyed door to the bathroom and went in.

“JARVIS said he didn't leave the building,” Bucky said and Steve came back and shook his head.

“At least not through the doors.”

“What the fuck... what have you done to my doors?” Tony came in and stared at Bucky and then he looked around. “Where's the boy?” He saw the open door to the bathroom. “Please, don't tell me he's in there and...” he stopped when Steve shook his head.

“It seems as if he disappeared through the air vents, Tony. The lid is open and only leaned against it to cover it.” He said and Tony's brows hit his hairline.

“JARVIS, is it possible to leave the tower through the vents without someone noticing?” He asked and the AI was quiet for a few seconds and then he said, “Yes, sir. I'm afraid, it is.”

“Shit,” Tony cursed and Bucky could see him make a mental note to change that. Lucky barked again and Natasha asked JARVIS to call someone to take care of the dog.

“What do you think where he is?” Tony said and looked at Bucky.

“He said he slept in a tear down house, I guess somewhere not far away from the coffee shop where I found him and after the Battle against Loki there are still a lot of them,” he explained.

“Sounds as good as place to start the search as anywhere,” Tony said and Steve nodded.

“JARVIS, call the team to assemble.”

“I have him,” Steve's voice came quiet through the comms after about two hours later.

“Where are you?” Tony asked and Steve gave them his location. It was one of the office buildings and Steve saw Hawk climb over some rubble. But just as he wanted to call out for him he saw him jump to one of the metal bars and hoisting himself up. He balanced along a pipe and jumped to another pipe over his head. Steve's mouth was so dry now he couldn't hold back any longer.

“Hawk, for heaven's sake, what are you doing?” he yelled and that startled the boy. He wavered a second and looked down but then he seemed reliefed.

“Steve, my god. You startled me,” he said.

“Will you come down already?” Steve said but Hawk shook his head.

“I have to... to get something first,” he pointed at a particleboard in the opposite wall and moved forward. But when he jumped from joist to joist Steve couldn't breathe anymore.

“Uhm... hey... could you maybe get over here?” he suddenly asked and pointed at a spot at the other wall.

“Why?” He asked and Hawk looked down at him, cocked his head and he could see him frown.

“Because then I don't have to climb down with the stuff in my hands,” he said matter-of-factly and Steve could only stare for a long moment before he climbed over the rubble to the point where he had told him and put his shield down. He got nauseous when he saw the boy climb over but then he had finally arrived at the wall and he shoved away a particleboard and Steve could see a hole behind it and there was stuff in it. The first thing he took looked like a slim and extra long briefcase and when he saw that Steve was in position he threw it down to him.
Steve put it aside and bit by bit he threw down a few more items in boxes and he caught them and put them beside him.

“Okay, that was the last one,” he finally said and started to move back when Steve saw some of the rubble come down and something scrunched suspiciously.

“Oh my god! Be careful!” Steve blurted out when he saw him waver a few seconds but then Hawk stopped, hunkered down and turned to look at Steve.

“Uhm, you know that I've seen the reports of the Battle, right?” he said and Steve's brain stopped for a few seconds.

“What?!”

“The thing... you know... the thing with your shield, where you've thrown Natasha upwards... can you do that again, just not upwards but forwards?”

“What?” Steve still couldn't process what he just said.

“Can you? Over there is an empty area, can you point at this?” Hawk asked and gestured with his hand in the direction.

“What do you have in mind?” Steve finally managed and Hawk sighed.

“I'm taking the shortcut,” he grinned. “So, are you ready?” he asked and mechanically Steve took his shield and then Hawk nodded... and jumped.

“Hawk!!” Steve heard Bucky yell when he entered the room. But then Hawk's feet touched Steve's shield and he moved it to the side and Hawk made a backflip and landed on one knee. “Are you completely out of your mind?” Bucky yelled now at the two of them and he wanted to give them a piece of his mind when the boy interrupted them.

“Hey, it's okay. I knew exactly what I did and... and I've done far more... well... spectacular things before in...” he stopped, looked at them, licked his lips and then he added, “... in the circus.”

“In... what?” Bucky shut his mouth and looked at Hawk now.

“When I ran away from the orphanage me and my brother ended up in the circus.”

“In the circus,” Steve said now and they both could see the boy blush violently.

“I know I should've said something but...”

“Why the fuck did you run away without telling anyone. We worried, Hawk!” Bucky snapped now.

“I didn't ran away, I...”

“Wait... what?”

“You said I have to decide what I wanted to do and I've made my decision.”

“But you could've at least say goodbye. You didn't need to sneak out of the tower like...” Bucky was really angry but Hawk interrupted him.

“I didn't want to leave, Bucky, okay? That's why I didn't say goodbye. I just wanted to get my stuff.”

“But why did you climb through the vents?” Steve asked now, his brows furrowed.

“The last few times I tried to leave JARVIS didn't let me out. And so...”

“Oh, Hawk,” Bucky sighed relieved and pressed the boy to his chest, hugged him tightly.

“Clint,” they could hear his muffled voice and Bucky looked down and cocked his head. “That's my name. Clint Barton.”

“From Waverly, Iowa,” Steve added and the boy nodded.

“Yes, Suit found it out.” He nodded. And then he struggled out of Bucky's arms, went to one of the boxes and opened it. Both, Bucky and Steve could see some knickknacks in it and he rummaged through it till he found what he searched. “Here,” he said and put a tiny thing in Bucky's hand.

“My... my coin?” he looked up incredulously. “I've thought...”

“It was nice. I couldn't give it away. Sorry for stealing it,” he said and Bucky hugged him again.

“Thanks,” Steve could see a tiny tear in his eye. He knew how much this coin had meant to him and even if he never admitted it, he was angry that it was gone. But now the relief was palpable. “Thank you,” he repeated and Hawk... Clint blushed.

“Okay, let's get home.” Steve said and then he touched his comms. “Avengers, we have him. Meeting back at the tower.”

“Oh, Jane said your dog peed into the atrium,” Bucky smirked when they left with the few boxes and the slim case in their hands.

Chapter Text

“Wow, this is... this is amazing,” Bucky stared at the small screen and then at the boy, Clint, who sat beside him. “That's been you?” He asked again and when Clint nodded and blushed he could only repeat, “Wow.”

“You... you don't think it's weird?” Clint asked and Bucky stared at him as if he'd grown another head.

“What? No! Why would I think that? I mean, this is... amazing.”

“I guess that's why they called me 'The amazing Hawkeye',” he shrugged but ducked his head slightly. “But everyone I've told it called me circus freak afterwards.”

“Clint, believe me, this is definitely nothing to be ashamed of,” he pointed at the screen of Clint's StarkPad again where he had just shown him a YouTube clip from his time in the circus. Someone had filmed it with his phone and uploaded it and it wasn't a good quality but Bucky was still amazed about it.

“But there's a trick with the rotating woman and you shooting at her blindfolded, right? I mean, it's not a real blindfold, you could've seen through, right?” He asked and after a few seconds Clint shook his head and changed his facial color again to red.

“I don't know if you would want to call it a trick but the wheel rotates always at the same speed and when you start in the same position you know where she is after a few tries. With a dummy! I've learned it with a dummy,” he added quickly when he saw Bucky's eyes widen. “But then, in the show, I really couldn't see.”

Bucky still couldn't do anything but stare at the boy. “And the... the contortionist thing? You really can do that?”

Clint shrugged, rose, bowed backwards till his hands touched the floor right behind his feet and then he lifted them and went down onto his elbows.

“Shit, that hurts only from looking at it,” he winced and Clint moved his legs over his body to get them back onto the ground. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Uhm... I can throw knives, I can fight with a sword, I like heights, I... I dropped out of school for good with twelve,” and here he locked at his fingers and blushed once more, “I can repair a car, I can build my own trick arrows.”

“Tell me about your brother?”

“Barney, his name is Barney. He's... he's four years older than me. He... he...” Clint swallowed and Bucky placed his hand on his back to calm him and then Clint showed him the large scar he had over his stomach. “The doctor said I can thank my creator that I'm still alive, he said it was close.”

“Your brother did that?” Bucky asked. He knew from Thor that his brother had stabbed him but he had no idea that it was this huge and this severe.

Clint nodded slowly. “I know it wasn't perfect in the circus, far from it. I mean, Buck and Jacques beat the stuffing out of me every other day but the others, they were nice, you know. It was the closest I ever had of a family, my own included. And then my brother, that fucking idiot, had to try to steal the money and I tried to stop him. But he wasn't alone, Buck was with him and Barney stabbed me and left me for dead. Carson found me and brought me to a hospital and they even paid for the bills. But then they left and I stayed back. They said they are thankful that I tried to stop my brother but since we're the same breed they can't trust me anymore. And they just left. It's all Barney's fault.” He swallowed and took a deep breath. “He deserves to rot in jail,” he spat finally and Bucky rubbed his back soothingly again.

“Your brother is in jail?” he asked and Clint nodded.

“Yeah. Found it out a few months later when some cops had hunted me down to question me. He had tried to rob a bank and failed miserably.” Clint snorted as if he had never expected anything less than that his brother would fail. And Bucky was so angry at this bastard for stabbing the boy and leaving him to die. What kind of asshole would do that?

He put his arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. “I'm sorry, Clint. I'm sorry for you, for everything that happened to you and...” he trailed off and then he just added, “I'm sorry.”

“I want him,” Bucky said the moment the door to Phil's office slammed against the wall. He stalked over to his desk and placed his fists on his desk and glared down at him. Phil raised a brow and leaned back in his chair.

“Good morning to you, too, Agent Barnes,” he said.

“I want the boy, Clint. I want to keep him. You have to make it possible.” It wasn't a question, it was a demand and Phil pursed his lips.

“And what exactly do you have in mind?”

“I don't know. But I know you can make it happen.” Bucky started to pace in front of Phil's desk and gestured with his hands. “He got beaten and abused and stabbed and lived on the streets and... and he deserves better. Maybe he needs a bit help to get back on the tracks but he's worth it, Coulson. You know that. Help me help him.” Phil sighed and took a deep breath. “You've trusted me when I brought in Natasha and she's one of our best, right? Trust me in this, Coulson.”

“He's a minor, Agent Barnes... James,” he said slowly and Bucky huffed in frustration.

“Then I adopt him, for fuck's sake!” He threw his arms in the air and finally sat down on the only empty chair in his office, as usual with the backrest in front of him.

“You're barely ten years older than him,” Phil pointed out and now Bucky raised his brow.

“Technically I'm ninety-five, Coulson,” he grinned and Phil couldn't resist to roll his eyes now. “Seriously, what can I do? As you've said, he's still a minor but when we inform the CPS they'll put him back to an orphanage and that's... no way, Phil. I... I can't do that to him. If we send him back to the orphanage he'll run away again. And then I'm pretty sure we would lose him,” Bucky leaned forwards now, looked at Phil. “He's a good guy, Phil. Let me help him. Can you make it possible?”

“James, I know...”

“The whole team likes him and we want him to stay. He wants to stay. Come on, Phil, you know that deep down in that suit is a heart and that you like him as well.”

“He stole my note pad,” Phil pointed out and Bucky smirked.

“See, I've told you he's talented. He could borrow your note pad and you've only noticed it back here in your office.”

“Okay. Fine. I'll talk to Director Fury. Let's see if we can do something,” he eventually huffed and Bucky's grin broadened. He rose, moved the chair back to its usual spot and went to the door.

“Thanks, Phil. Oh, and by the way, I've sent you an email with a link to a YouTube video. Maybe you want to know why he called himself Hawk. Believe me, it's amazing,” he winked and closed the door behind himself.

Phil raised his brow when Bucky had closed the door but he turned to his computer and opened the email. He clicked on the link. The Amazing Hawkeye: Carson's circus.

The video had a bad quality but he could see the performer in a ridiculous purple costume and a bow. It started in the middle of his performance and the guy was, well... Phil didn't find another word than amazing. “Holy hell,” he breathed when he saw him shoot at a woman, tied to a rotating wheel, with a blindfold over his eyes and when they released her afterwards her shape was marked with arrows.

'Believe it or not, but that's Clint!' the email said and Phil raised his brows once more.

With another sigh he rose and went to Fury's office and when his assistant let him in he flopped down on the chair.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay, Clint. Please sit down,” Steve said when Clint had entered the living room. Lucky in tow. JARVIS had called him and told him that they wanted to talk to him and now he faced the whole team including their respective girlfriends, Suit and a scary black guy with eye patch in a leather coat. He carefully sat down in one of the empty armchairs and the dog glared angrily at Thor because he sat in his armchair. But then he padded to a corner of the room and curled up, yawned and started to snore.

“What... what's wrong?” Clint asked and he cursed himself the next moment because his voice sounded so scared. He wasn't scared, they are his friends, they told him. There was nothing to be afraid of.

“Nothing's wrong. We just have a proposition for you.” Suit said and rose.

“A... a proposition?” he looked around but all of the team just smiled reassuringly at him.

“Yes, a proposition. That's the deal, Clint. Since you're still a minor you need a legal guardian, you can't stay alone, okay?” Clint nodded and then Suit came over to him. “Agent Barnes said he would adopt you and that's the reasons why you're here now. Do you want that, too?” Clint stared at Bucky disbelievingly.

“You... you would...” He couldn't finish the sentence, he had a thick lump in his throat. But when he saw Bucky smile shyly and nod he opened his mouth but Bucky raised his hand and stopped him before he could say anything.

“If you're going to ask me why I would do this, then you can spare your breath. It's only for the reason that I really like you and I think you deserve a chance, a real chance, Clint.”

“I... I don't know what to say?” he pressed mumbled and stared at him and Bucky just shrugged.

“What about yes?”

“Yes, yes, of course I want that!” And this time he couldn't stay in his armchair, he hurried over to Bucky and he needed to hug him.

“We'll do all the paperwork tomorrow, we just wanted to ask you for now.” Suit... Agent Coulson said and this time he smiled and Clint could see tiny wrinkles around his eyes.

“But?” Clint asked now when he had taken the seat beside Bucky at the couch now. “I can clearly hear a but here.”

“Yes, there is a but. You're going back to school and make your high-school diploma.” Bucky said now and Clint tried to complain again but this time he got interrupted by Bruce.

“We know that you dropped out of school with twelve but that's not a problem. We have enough geniuses here to prepare you and you'll get some homeschooling in the subjects they can't do till the next school year starts. Believe me, we'll get you fit for school,” he explained with a smirk.

“And there's another but,” Tony said now and Clint frowned when he saw his expression. “You teach your dog not to pee in my potted plants anymore. They're all dying,” he grumbled and Clint couldn't repress a grin.

“Yes, I guess I can do that.”

“Do you have any questions?” Agent Coulson asked now and Clint shook his head but then he smirked and turned to Bucky.

“Do I call you dad then?” he asked and Bucky stared at him taken aback but when he saw the wink in Clint's eyes he ruffled his hair.

“No, Bucky is still okay,” he said and put his arm around Clint's shoulder.

And even hours later, when Coulson and Director Fury – because that was the scary guy in the leather coat – had left, Clint couldn't wipe the happy smile out of his face. Family. He had a family again, a real family, one who wanted him, who asked him to be part of them. Now he wasn't the circus freak that had to live on the streets because no one wanted him anymore, no, now he had a family and friends and... and a home. All in all, he thought, it wasn't the worst decision to snitch Bucky's wallet.

Chapter Text

Later:

“You know what to do, right?” Bucky asked for the umpteenth time and Clint rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I've been in the briefing, remember?” He stowed away his bow case in the quinjet and turned to find Bucky close behind him. “I know what to do, okay? Sharon is my handler and she's good, remember?”

“Yes, yes... it's just...”

“You're worried,” Clint said and stepped back to sit down in co-pilot's seat.

“It's my fucking job to be worried,” Bucky grumbled and Clint turned to smirk at him.

“Language, old man.”

“You're not too old to be put over my knee, buddy.” Bucky folded his arms over his chest and Clint turned again.

“Okay, I know that this is my first real long term mission but there are a few reasons why I intend to come back in one piece.” He counted on his fingers. “One, I want to see Coulson's face when I wrap up the mission successful. Two, I have an important date with Pietro in three weeks and I don't plan to miss that and three I expect my little brother to be here when I come back and so stop bugging me, go home and annoy Natasha.”

“You've had so many dates with Pietro in the last two years, why is this one so special?” Bucky asked and frowned but Clint grinned.

“Aww, come on, I've told you. It's that date.” Bucky stared for a few seconds and then it hit him. Clint had told him a few weeks ago that he wanted to ask Pietro to marry him. Bucky had asked him if he really thought that it was a good idea to marry Magneto's son but then Clint had shrugged and pointed out that he, Bucky, had told him that it wouldn't matter where one came from, it only mattered what a person did and Pietro was a good man and he loved Clint as much as Clint loved him.

“Oh, okay. Then be careful! I have a very pregnant, bad-tempered wife at home, I can't deal with an upset soon-to-be son-in-law as well.”

“I've learned from the best, remember.” Yes, Bucky remembered. He and Clint had had a long and loud fight the day after he had gotten his high-school diploma. Bucky wanted him to go to the university to study but Clint said he wanted to join SHIELD. They had yelled at each other for more than two hours and Lucky sat beside them and had howled and barked as loud as possible. But in the end he had given in and Clint joined SHIELD but he and the rest of the Avengers had insisted that they would be allowed to train him themselves. Fury had agreed after another loud discussion with the team.

And now he would be gone for three weeks for the first time and Bucky was worried. But when Sharon pointed at her wristwatch and raised her brow he nodded.

“Okay. All of you, be careful,” he said and went to the hatch. But then he turned around again. “Hey, Clint.”

“Yeah?” The young man turned around and looked at him once more when he threw a tiny item in his direction. Of course he could catch it and when he looked at it his mouth dropped open.

“Your coin?” Clint looked at him and Bucky smiled and nodded.

“For luck!”