Chapter Text
Clint stood at Kate’s shoulder as she stared blankly at the still slightly smoking ruins of her old home. She felt brittle, she wanted to laugh. Clint shot her a look of concern at the choked sound that came out of her throat.
“It’s a shame,” She eventually croaked, “I always hoped to do that myself.”
She’d come to hate the damn house and all of its history. Hell, there was a reason she’d regularly threatened to have the whole place condemned, but- a part of her still saw her mother in those walls. She had wanted to cling to that ghost in those memories. Seeing all of that gone-
It felt a little bit like murder.
Clint looked more alarmed, if that was even possible. He turned and took one look at her face before folding her against him in a hug. Kate let out a watery laugh that quickly disintegrated into sobs. They stood together like that for a while, Kate wracked with full-body shudders. Through it all, Clint was warm and sturdy as he let her fall apart in his arms. Eventually she ran out of tears.
He didn’t say anything as he herded her into a cab and led her back to his apartment. She didn’t speak until after he got her to sit on his couch and handed her a warm cup of the decaf. She recognized it as the type Tasha had started stashing in his apartment as a less-than-subtle jab. Clint usually threw it out when he found it, loudly complaining about sacrilege. In some distant corner of her brain, she was grateful for it now. Mostly she was just numb.
“I don’t- I don’t even know why I’m upset.”
Clint’s voice was warm and comforting. “You don’t have to.”
And- oh, right. “I forgot that you had some old man wisdom knocking around.”
Clint grinned crookedly at her.
“And if you ever tell anyone I said that I’m going to deny it.”
“You wound me Kate! What happened to Hawkeye solidarity?”
Kate giggled at him, still feeling fragile. This was what America would never understand about Clint. For all of his many, many faults, Kate needed Clint just as much as he needed her. He wasn’t the most reliable, and one of these days he was sure to get himself killed in his quest for self-sabotage, but, beyond all of that, he was her hero. He was the one adult she could always depend on to be there when she needed him, and actually give a damn about her. If the price for that was that she sometimes had to physically separate his head from his ass, well, stubbornness was a Hawkeye trait.
As though he could sense her thoughts, Clint quietly soothed her as he covered her with a blanket, “It’s okay, Katie-Kate. It’s okay. I’m here, I’ve got you.”
Kate slowly drifted off, feeling comforted, and against all odds, she did not dream of smoke.