Chapter Text
You knew you were safe here, safer than you were anywhere else – at least, when Steve was not present – but the sound still startled you. You spun around from the window, faster than you thought you could with your 32-weeks-pregnant belly, spilling your already cooled down hot chocolate on the floor in the process.
“Stand down, kiddo, it’s just me.”
You recognized the familiar shape in the doorway even though the kitchen was lit only by the light coming from the hallway and the dim glow of the lights outside the window. You blinked and cursed under your breath, mourning your hot chocolate.
“Do you have to sneak around at 3 AM, Clint? I thought hawks weren’t nocturnal! And besides, aren’t old people usually early to rise, early to bed?” you snapped.
A cleaning robot that had been automatically dispatched from the corner was already taking care of the spilled drink. You stepped back to give it space and put your mug down on the table.
Clint paid no mind to your outburst. He took two mugs and spoons from the cupboard and pulled a small pot out of the rack hanging above the island, rattling all the others in the process.
“In case you don’t remember, this compound also houses people who can hear!”
“Sucks to be them, then,” Clint shrugged, placing the pot on the stove.
He poured in the milk and foraged the fridge for some chocolate. The European kind Tony always got directly from Switzerland.
“Sassy today, are we, kiddo. What’s on your mind? Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?”
“Same goes for you, and we both know you need that a lot more than I do,” you said under your breath.
“Don’t disrespect your elders, little lady,” he said. “We both know I’m a lost cause. And I’m jetlagged. What’s your excuse?”
You smiled at that and pulled a chair from the table to sit down, somehow managing to sit down almost gracefully, if an aircraft carrier you currently felt like could be graceful. You re-arranged your robes to cover the belly better and sighed.
Clint was stirring the milk, trying to get the chocolate to melt as fast as possible. You pushed your earlier mug aside – you hadn’t wanted to make any noise, so you had used the instant powder. Clearly not up to your cravings’ standards, so you were lucky that Clint had no problem waking the whole compound up with the rattling pot and metal whisk. He poured some heavy cream into the pot and then divided the mixture into two mugs. He presented one to you like an offering, and you smiled at his antics.
“I’ve learned the hard way that if you mess with a pregnant lady’s food, you better get your act together and find a replacement real soon.”
“Let me write my next paper on the amazing discovery of the fact that your thick skull can actually absorb information,” you sassed, smiling behind your mug.
“Hey, hey, you’re being vicious today. I might actually feel hurt soon. I made you hot chocolate, and this is how you reward me? And this a helluva upgrade from that instant crap you had, so I basically did you a favor by making you spill it.”
Of course he’d noticed. He lifted both of his hands up in defense and shook his head.
“Stand down, senior citizen. I’ll leave you alone before you yell at me to get off your lawn.”
He chuckled, stirring his drink to make it cool down a little. You did the same – he was obviously waiting for you to start talking. You wanted to avoid the topic of why you actually were up and asked:
“How’s it going with Laura and the kids? Are they discussing moving you into a care home?”
He never failed to smile at that, ignoring the insult that followed. He’d come back from his mission only a few hours ago, planning on leaving back home in the morning to wake up his family, desperately trying to get on top of his circadian rhythm before he returned.
“Everything’s good. I just talked to them from the plane. Nathaniel’s really excited about the new chickens,” he said. “He’s growing up so fast, and he’s a really good help now.”
The thought of Clint and Nathaniel feeding the chickens together made you feel all warm inside. Then your face dropped, and you sighed.
“You know, wholesome farm life actually sounds really good. Maybe I’ll leave these two on your doorstep.”
“Don’t you dare,” Clint laughed. “I have absolutely no intention to ever changing another diaper again.”
“You’re supposed to be a superhero, and you’re scared of two tiny little babies?” you teased.
“Who said I’m scared?”
You shrugged, taking a sip from your drink. Clint was right, this was definitely an upgrade from your earlier one.
He was silent for a moment and then said:
“So that’s what this is about. Projecting your fears is pretty common, you know.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” you muttered.
You stroked your belly with one hand. It had turned out that your hunch about a baby boy was right, but it was only half the truth. You would go to your grave claiming that the only reason you’d thrown up at that ultrasound appointment was morning sickness.
“He’ll come back, you know.”
“I’m not worried about him coming back.”
“You’re a shitty liar.”
The babies were probably sleeping – it was quiet in your belly. You balanced the mug on it, focusing on the warmth that radiated through the mug’s bottom.
“He’s just so… sure about everything. He’s so certain everything will work out, and I said that to him back when we’d just met, that everything would fall into place because that’s the point of soulmates, right? But what if it doesn’t?”
You sniffed. Damn these hormones.
“This is his last mission for a while. Paternity leave, he calls it, so some day he’ll want to go back to the field. And then I’ll be outnumbered. And what if something happens to him?”
Tears were falling from your eyes now, and you couldn’t be bothered to hide it from Clint.
“So you are scared!” he said like he’d caught one of his kids stealing cookies.
“And you definitely missed some sensitivity training lesson when joining the Avengers,” you scoffed.
You took a sip of the cocoa, trying to distract yourself from the crying. It was fine. It honestly was fine. You were just pregnant and missing Steve and couldn’t sleep. It’d all work out. Steve had never promised you anything he couldn’t deliver. You were just overreacting.
“I’m pretty sure he won’t,” Clint said.
You frowned in question. Clint continued with uncharacteristic seriousness:
“Look, kiddo, back in 2015 during the Ultron shit we had to crash my house. He thinks I didn’t notice, and I never asked about it, but honestly, the look on his face seeing what I had despite superheroing… I think the man wants a family more than he wants anything.”
“I know. He does. But… He needs to save the world, too. That’s what you all do. You and Tony have families, too.”
“Tony mostly does tech nowadays. I’m rarely out there myself, and when I am, they’re surveillance missions.”
“I can’t ask him to get an Avengers version of a desk job just because I’m scared. He’s always come back to me.”
“It’s not about you anymore. And he knows it, too.”
You knew he did. Two weeks ago, when he’d left, you’d had to practically push him out of the door, and if you weren’t staying at the compound, he probably would’ve flat out refused to go at all.
After the whole Volition thing, Steve had begged you to stay at the compound whenever he was away. It was a small price to pay, and you truly liked the company instead of sitting in your country house alone, so you’d obliged.
“I’m continuing my work after maternity leave. I can’t ask him to give up something I’m not,” you reasoned.
Clint sighed at your stubbornness.
“It’s not like you’re asking him to get a job at Starbucks.”
“That’s an important job, too,” you said.
“Yeah, do you think I don’t know it? They’re practically preventing me from committing mass murder by providing me my caffeine fix,” Clint rolled his eyes. “But anyway. If it’s just the field, or most of it, it’s no different than what me and Tony did. He’s a master strategist and really great at training people. I’m certain there are things he can do for the world without being in constant danger of having his head blown off.”
“Well, that’s an image I need right now. Seriously, that sensitivity training thing? Maybe you just missed the entire thing?”
“Sorry,” he grimaced.
You breathed deep, in an out. You wanted to tug at the bond, to find out that everything was okay, but you were scared that you’d startle him. You never initiated contact with him during missions, and it was a rare treat for him to feel safe enough to engage with you. The thought made you shiver.
“Okay, maybe your bird brain does have a point,” you finally sighed.
You hadn’t talked about this, not really. Maybe you should’ve. But Steve had been so… amazing. He was smiling practically every moment, so thoroughly happy about being in the family way that you hadn’t wanted to make him worry. And most of the time, you yourself were pretty certain that everything would be okay. It should’ve been impossible for you and Steve to even meet, considering the almost century-wide age gap, but yet you had. Maybe this soulmate thing had a point to it, maybe the universe would work in your favor now, too. But defying space-time felt like a much easier task than parenting twins with an Avenger.
“Maybe we need to talk about it.”
“I only give good advice, what can you say,” Clint shrugged.
“Well, only you can come up with a way to bake pizza with a coffee maker.”
“I still consider that my greatest achievement.”
“You’ve literally saved the world at least five times.”
“Your point being?”
He rose, putting both of your mugs in the sink and extended his hand to help you up. You rose to your feet and looked at him.
“Try to get some sleep, birdman. And say hi to everyone for me.”
“You too, kiddo. I will. I’d invite you over when the babies come, but I’m afraid we might get some very much not thoroughly thought idea about getting another baby.”
“Like you’re going to tell Laura she can’t have us over. I’d like to see that,” you laughed. “Good night, Clint.”
“Good night, kiddo.”
You started waddling towards the door, but Clint’s voice stopped you.
“And kiddo, you know, should anything happen, not to Steve or to you or the babies, but should anything bad happen in some alternate universe far away, we’ve got you. You’ll always have a place in here, and in my place, too.”
You smiled and sniffled a bit.
“Thanks, Clint. I know that.”
“Sensitivity train that!”
“I’d start by leaving that last sentence out.”
But you were still smiling, when you made your way back to your apartment in the compound. Maybe you could finally get some sleep. Steve would be back the day after tomorrow, and then you’d talk.
Because bird brain or not, Clint did have a talent for seeing things. Maybe he was right.