Chapter Text
Matt's ears perked up as Natasha's heartbeat entered the furthest reaches of his world of fire. He was at the airport, leaning against a wall near the baggage deposit with his bag at his feet while he waited for Natasha to find him. He wasn't worried about the time, having made sure to arrive with a book and a few hours to spare, but he was also in no hurry to get on the plane. Touching down in Iowa and spending a week on Clint's farm with Laura, yes, he was very much looking forward to, but the flight itself? Even at this distance from the runway, the volume of the jet engines was unsettling, and he had no doubt that the noise would only get exponentially less bearable the closer he got.
He sighed and slapped the book shut after running his fingers over the same sentence three times and still not taking any of it in. It wasn't a particularly demanding book, just a light detective novel to pass the time, but his mind was elsewhere, so he accepted defeat and stowed it back in his bag, settling on tracking Natasha's path from the traffic jam up the road to the door. Apparently, the roads were well and truly locked with no hope of movement whatsoever, because it seemed that Natasha had chosen to pay the taxi driver in the middle of the road and walk the rest of the way.
She locked onto him the instant she passed through the entrance, her heart doing that joyful little skip it always did when she saw him, and strode over with a purposeful step, the crowds parting for her almost like magic. She dragged him into a tight hug as soon as he was within her arm's reach, sighing a soft "missed you" into his collarbone.
"I missed you too. How was the mission?" He relieved her of her bag and dropped it down beside his own.
"Chaotic. Stark is... a handful."
Matt chuckled. "No surprise there. Billionaire arms dealer turned self-proclaimed agent of world peace. Did you get to punch him?"
"Unfortunately not, although I did stab him with a syringe because he was dying of palladium poisoning."
Matt paused his teasing in confusion. "Hold on, palladium poisoning? Where do you even get palladium from? How on earth did he manage that?"
"You know the blue light which powers his suit?"
"Nope, never seen it." Natasha rolled her eyes at his shit-eating grin.
"You're a dork. So, there's an arc reactor in the middle of the chest plate, which does power the suit, but is also permanently fitted inside his chest to keep him alive, because he suffered some extreme complications when he got blown up and kidnapped a few months ago and he needs an electromagnet above his heart at all times to not die."
"That's... wow. Not what I expected."
"Tell me about it. So anyway, his original arc reactor design had a palladium core, but it was unsustainable and was poisoning his blood, so he apparently built a mini-CERN in his garage to invent a new element and now he's as good as new."
Matt whistled, impressed. "So he's a proper, Looney Tunes-style mad scientist then. Why don't the media ever mention that side of him?"
"Because he takes great pleasure in playing the insufferable billionaire asshole so that people leave him alone."
"Huh. Works pretty well, clearly. Smart."
Natasha snorted. "Don't say that around him, his ego is big enough already. That's the part of the character that is real."
They continued to talk about her mission as they picked up their bags and lined up at the baggage deposit queue, keeping their voices low to avoid broadcasting the sensitive nature of Natasha's job to the rest of the airport.
"So, what exactly happened at the Stark Expo? The news didn't explain it very well, and Foggy was at Marci's again."
"In simple terms, it was a mess. Justin Hammer, the new contractor the army hired after Stark shut down his weapons department, hired the revenge-crazed laser-whip guy from the incident in Monaco, Ivan Vanko, to build him some knock-off Iron Man drones, except Vanko programmed them to go nuts and try to kill Stark during the presentation at the Expo."
She paused her explanation once they reached the front of the queue, dropping off their bags without much hassle and moving on to the next area of the airport, joining the line of people waiting to pass through security.
"Where was I? Oh yeah, there were a bunch of shoddily built but still dangerous murder drones flying all over the place. Stark and his military friend, who also has a suit, somehow managed to take them all out before any civilians got caught in the crossfire, but Vanko apparently had his own suit and joined them for a super-powered punch-up, and activated the drones' self-destruct feature after he lost, which is the reason everything exploded. I still can't quite believe nobody died. Oh, and although I didn't get to punch Stark, I got to punch Hammer, which is about ten times better."
That got a chuckle out of Matt, who's eyebrows were still slightly raised in disbelief. "I get why you called it a mess. Well, at least it means Fury can't argue that you haven't earned your time off and call you in mid-week."
"He'd better not," she grumbled, but quickly lightened her demeanour as she changed the topic. "Wait, so how come Foggy wasn't there to describe the news footage? I've been doing clean-up for the past few days, he's been with Marci the entire time?"
"Oh, yeah, they went on a camping trip upstate as soon as the semester ended."
"Really? She doesn't strike me as a camping kind of girl."
Matt shrugged. "Me neither, but apparently her parents made it a tradition to take her to a new site every summer, and she liked it enough to continue after she left home."
She hummed in acknowledgement. "Remind me again how she and Foggy even got together in the first place?"
Natasha had only ever observed Marci from a distance, but that distance was plenty close enough for her liking. Her brain couldn't seem to process how Foggy the human puppy and Marci the ruthless shark could be on civil speaking terms with each other, let alone in a surprisingly stable and affectionate relationship.
"To be completely honest, I have no idea either, it just sort of... happened. But she doesn't take shit from anyone, she makes Foggy happy, and she doesn't treat me differently for being blind, so she's okay in my books."
She hummed again, more contemplatively this time. "She reminds me of the people in Stark's legal team, except she hasn't quite lost her soul yet."
Matt snorted, "Yeah, I'm afraid that one's still up for debate." He stifled a laugh as he realised something. "Hey, how come all of your assignments have you go undercover as a lawyer? Phil does know that you were only at Columbia for one month, right?
"Yeah, he does, but he also seems to think that because we're together, I can just absorb your degree entirely by osmosis," she said with a grumpy sigh. "He thinks it's funny. I've told him multiple times that it isn't, but apparently that just makes it even more amusing."
Matt, to her dismay, also found it amusing.
"Oh no, not you too!" she groaned, swatting at his arm in annoyance. "You're not allowed to side with him, I hate being a lawyer."
He snickered mercilessly. Natasha huffed to signal her disapproval, but it was ineffectual, so she settled on grumbling, "I'm banning you from talking to Phil."
They fell into a comfortable silence as they reached security and were waved through without a hitch (Natasha rolled her eyes at their ineptitude, considering that they had completely failed to pick up on any of the weapons concealed around her person, but Matt seemed to sense what she was thinking and gave her a look). They kept a relaxed pace on their way to their gate, chatting about anything and everything, stopping to browse the absurdly overpriced shops without ever buying anything, holding each other's hand like any other young couple in love, anonymous and ordinary, free from the stresses of dying billionaire geniuses, megalomaniacal military contractors and vengeful laser-whip-clad scientists that had plagued the last few weeks.
However, the closer they got to their flight, the more antsy and restless Matt grew. She reminded him that they didn't have to fly, that she was perfectly capable of driving them, but Matt assured her that he was fine, he would be fine.
He was not fine.
Even just filing onto the plane and taking his seat, Natasha could see him working his jaw and tilting his head every few seconds, as though struggling with something she could not detect. The pair of noise-cancelling headphones they'd had the foresight to purchase helped a little, but were no match for the whine of the engines, even whilst they were still taxiing along the ground. He shot her a grateful smile when she took his hand with a squeeze, but all too soon, the plane was lined up on the runway and roaring up to speed for take-off.
It was hell. The engines were so loud, stabbing like ice picks into his ears, but somehow not loud enough to conceal the terrifying creaks and groans of the airframe as the wheels tucked themselves into the fuselage and the wings flexed under the burden of dragging the enormous metal coffin into the sky. The pressurised air smelled weird, tasted weirder, felt artificial and unnatural on his skin, and wreaked havoc with his sense of balance, throwing off his perception even more than heavy painkillers usually did, not to mention the agonising pain in his ears.
He spent the entirety of the two hour flight strung like a wire about to snap, muscles locked and teeth clenched tight as he tried and failed to acclimatise himself to the conditions. However, even worse than the physical discomfort, which was pretty awful to begin with, was the vast nothingness beyond the walls of the aircraft. Everything about it felt wrong, and he couldn't wait to be back on solid ground, where the noise was manageable and the air didn't hurt and the world actually existed around him.
Throughout the length of the flight, Natasha lent him her hand to hold on to and anchor himself with, acutely more aware of the uncomfortable quirks of air travel than she had ever been before. She mentally composed a quick thank you to whatever powers may be for the lack of turbulence as the plane began its landing approach. She wasn't certain Matt could have coped with a rattling aircraft on top of everything else.
Touchdown wasn't much better than take-off, but at least it came with the knowledge that they were safely back on land and that he would soon be allowed out of the flying torture machine. Everything still felt a little off-kilter as he walked down the flimsy tunnel to the terminal building, but once he reached true, stable ground, his sigh of relief came straight from the soul. He was never taking the surface of the planet for granted again.
He didn't remember much of the journey connecting the exit of the plane and the airport car park, too busy readjusting to and revelling in the normality of the world, but the hot summer sun was pleasant on his skin as he and Natasha wandered slowly towards Clint's car, distinguishable from the sea of other vehicles by the years' worth of mud and dust coating every inch of paint. The man in question greeted them with a grin and a happy clap on the arm, relieving them of their bags and dumping them in the trunk of his car as he asked about the flight.
Matt plastered a tight smile over his face. "Oh, it was... good?"
Natasha shot Clint a look which plainly said not to trust a single word from his mouth. "It was terrible, wasn't it?"
Matt dropped the fake smile with a sigh. "I hated it, everything about it was awful. There wasn't any turbulence though, at least."
"Ah, yeah, that's more what I expected. Well, silver lining, you've got a whole week and a half before you have to go through that again."
"Offer's still open if you want to drive back instead," suggested Natasha.
Matt declined again after succumbing to the insults from Stick's unwelcome presence in his head, reluctantly conceding to the voice that he should not have been brought to his knees by a measly two-hour flight and that he had been letting himself get soft. He didn't mention any of that, of course, but Natasha's concerned glances suggested that she had an inkling of what was going on in his head. She didn't press the issue, however, letting Clint regale them with tales of Lila and Cooper's recent exploits as he drove.
Soon, they had escaped the clutches of urban civilisation and found themselves surrounded by fields upon fields of grass and crops. It was... different, but not unpleasant. The always-present background noise of cars and electricity he had grown so accustomed to that it barely even registered anymore had been replaced by the small sounds of insects and rodents buzzing and scurrying about, wind wafting through trees and birds chirping happily from the sky. The air smelled fresher, cleaner, a considerable improvement over New York's perpetual stench of pollution and garbage, everything adding up to an enjoyable, peaceful atmosphere which deftly slipped his attention away from the horror of the flight and towards relaxation.
Said relaxation was promptly shattered by the excited squealing of the two children bouncing behind the window as they tracked the car up the driveway. Almost as soon as the car was stopped, the two bundles of energy were bursting out of the house and ambushing Clint into an eager hug, Laura following them out at a more leisurely pace a few moments later. The instant the children saw Natasha, however, Clint found himself forgotten about and abandoned.
"Auntie Nat! Auntie Nat!"
She crouched just in time to catch them as they crashed into her, smiling widely at the warm reception. "Hi Cooper, hi Lila. Oh my, you've both grown since last time I saw you. Have you had a good summer so far?"
Matt and Clint began emptying the car to the soundtrack of their hyperactive storytelling, leaving Natasha to catch up with the kids as they greeted Laura and took their luggage up to the spare bedroom. Clint gave Matt a quick tour of the house, pointing out any potential trip hazards just in case, and they descended the creaky stairs just as Lila led Natasha through the front door by hand, babbling happily.
Clint waited for a lull in Lila's excited word vomit to introduce Matt. "Kids, you remember we told you about-"
"Uncle Matt!"
Matt's pained expression sent Natasha into hysterics, cackling so hard she had to double over and clutch her middle dramatically, much to his chagrin.
"Sorry. We didn't tell them to call you that, I promise," Laura sighed. "Would you prefer something else?"
"Just Matt is fi-"
Natasha interrupted him gleefully, still red in the face and wheezing for breath, tears of laughter making her eyes glint as she hijacked the children's attention. "Lila, Cooper, Uncle Matt LOVES hugs! Why don't you go and show Uncle Matt what good huggers you are?"
Uncle Matt stumbled slightly as the two kids crashed into his legs with unexpected force. He sent Natasha a peeved glare over the children's heads, mouthing, "Two can play at that game, Nattie."
Clint and Laura watched with amused smiles as her laughter ceased instantly, her face dropping in horror as she frantically waved a "Don't you dare!" motion at him. It was Matt's turn to laugh, but he took mercy on her and raised his hands in acquiescence, before kneeling down to the children's level to greet them properly. Clint was happy to sit back and watch the cute scene unfold in front of him, but winced when Lila started making grabby hands towards Matt's sunglasses.
"Lila, darling, what have we told you about grabbing things without asking?"
Lila dropped her arms disappointedly as Cooper regarded him curiously. "Why do you wear sunglasses if you can't see?"
Matt smiled wryly, amused by the bluntness of the question. Most adults tended to feel too awkward to ask about his blindness and skirted around the topic clumsily, so Cooper's direct approach was surprisingly refreshing. "I can't look at anyone in the eyes, and a lot of people find that a bit unsettling, so I wear the sunglasses to make them more comfortable." I don't like when people can see my eyes.
"Oh. Those people are dumb."
Matt grinned. "Yes, they are, aren't they?"
The kids continued to bombard him with questions, intent on learning everything important about him. Do you like unicorns? Don't know, never met one. Can you know what colours look like? Yes. What's your favourite colour? Red. Why do you have a stick? So that I don't walk into anything. What's your favourite dinosaur? Uh... Velociraptor? Do you like playing with legos? Don't know, never had any. You've never played with legos?!
Cooper grabbed his new best friend by the hand and yanked him into the living room to rectify that outrageous fact, Lila squealing excitedly in their wake as she followed, leaving the remaining three adults free to move into the kitchen and have a much-needed catch up. They talked for a long time, trading stories of the past few months, both mission-related and not, making sure to check in with Matt every once in a while to make sure he was still happy where he was and that the children weren't being too overbearing. When she made mention of the Avengers Initiative and her report on Tony Stark, however, Matt's voice called out from the living room in mild alarm.
"I do hope that I don't have one of those character assessments, right?"
Natasha grimaced. "I don't know. I haven't come across it if you do, but I wouldn't put it past Fury. I'm fairly sure Clint and I both have one."
It was Laura's turn to speak up in alarm. "This is the first I'm hearing of this! You're being considered for a team with Iron Man? Is Fury insane? You two are just ordinary, squishy humans, Iron Man is a flying bulletproof tank! How is that fair?"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Laur," Clint chuckled, but he sighed a moment later, serious again. "I don't know. Fury has these big plans for an independent team to protect the world from supernatural or extraterrestrial threats, and he's been monitoring potential candidates for a while now. I'm not sure exactly why he thinks that the world needs such a team, but he probably has a legitimate reason. He's put way too much effort into the idea not to."
"I suppose, but still! Why you two? Iron Man accidentally took out an F22 when he first showed up, how can they expect you to keep up with a guy who can destroy a Raptor by mistake?"
Clint shrugged. "As I said, I don't know. How do you even know about the F22 incident, anyway? I thought the details were classified?"
"They are classified, my team was the one assigned to keeping an eye on that situation. How do you know about it?"
"I was camping in the vents to avoid debrief when it happened, I overheard Hill and Fury talking about it."
Laura rolled her eyes. "Of course, I should've known. I bet Phil didn't expect child-rearing to be part of his job description when he signed up to SHIELD."
Natasha snickered while Clint spluttered in outrage, Matt's chortling audible through the open door. When they left the kitchen to join the three in the living room, they were taken aback by the scene that lay before them. Matt, Cooper and Lila were sitting among a sea of loose lego pieces and discarded half-creations and appeared to be having a tea party, sipping blue bricks from misshapen blocky mugs, with the adult among them sporting a short ponytail in the middle of his forehead ("like a unicorn!" exclaimed Lila) and a pair of multicoloured, catastrophically oversized lego sunglasses ("because his normal ones are too boring," explained Cooper). With permission, Clint rushed upstairs to find his camera and took a photograph of the glorious view, the moment far too perfect not to immortalise.
Dinner was a comparatively tidier affair, consisting of a simple but delicious soup with an accompanying salad. Natasha had taken over from Matt to reclaim her title as Lila and Cooper's best friend, allowing Laura to kidnap him and borrow his culinary talents as they introduced themselves more thoroughly, getting to know each other beyond the short descriptions Clint had given them.
Evening brought board games, Matt marvelling at the impressive collection stacked in the corner of the room. Matt's eyes grew shiny behind his glasses when they brought forth a not inconsequential selection of blind-accessible games from the pile, deeply moved that they had bought them for him despite their reassurances that it was no trouble at all.
Natasha was apparently the reigning champion at Cluedo, and she gleefully extended her unbeaten run as Clint disqualified himself by jumping the gun with an accusation wrong in every category, but Uno proved to be her downfall, no amount of card-counting and body language analysis able to counteract an eight-strong stack of +2 cards (she vehemently rejected the stacking rule, pointing at the official rule sheet in support of her claim, but then Laura silenced her protests with a grin and a +4). They chose Jenga next, and proceeded to watch in awe as Matt wiped the floor with all five of them for three rounds on the bounce. He managed to select the easiest possible block on every single turn, tapping a finger on the table to listen to the vibrations travel up the tower and broadcast the position of the loosest pieces without ever touching them.
They continued playing until the children's drooping eyelids started to win the battle against alertness, finally deciding to call it a night and sending them upstairs to get ready for bed while they packed everything away. Matt and Natasha ventured out onto the front porch while Clint and Laura tucked the kids in, content to sit together in silence and appreciate the serene countryside evening. The other two soon joined them outside with four mugs of chamomile tea, and they all watched the sunset shoulder to shoulder in a tranquil peace. Eventually, they too felt the day catch up to them, and the four of them headed back inside once the last of the light had disappeared, efficiently running through their routines and then waving the other couple good night. Matt and Natasha closed the door to the spare bedroom and slipped under the covers into each other's arms before settling in to sleep.