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Natasha never thought she would have children. After Red Room, there was just no way. She’d accepted she would never have children a long time ago and she never let it bother her. She worked too much anyway; her life wasn’t one for children, she told herself.
When she met Clint, that hadn’t changed. They both worked too much, their lives were too dangerous, but it wasn’t until years into their relationship when she’d watched him interact with a group of children at the local hospital after the attack on New York that she began to wish she could give him that same happiness.
Clint knew she couldn’t have children; when they started dating, she told him and he’d shrugged it off, looking at her oddly.
“I like you for you, Nat.” He said simply. “It’s not a requirement for you to be able to have kids to date me.”
He was telling the truth, she knew him well enough to know when he was lying, but it bothered her. It bothered her a lot the more she saw him interact with small children on the streets or in the hospital because he looked so happy, so full of life, and not tired or run down like he was after missions.
Though, despite her reasoning, Clint told her he would rather have her than kids every time and would wrap her in his arms while they watched one of those dumb reality shows he loved so much.
She eventually stopped bringing it up all together. He obviously was telling the truth.
And then Clint brought Kate home.
She was younger than them both by a good ten years; she lived at home with her two incredibly rich parents, had a very snarky teen attitude, and had been declared Clint’s successor by none other than Clint himself.
She was around a lot; almost every day. Even when Natasha was gone, she knew Kate was hanging around the apartment, sassing Clint or shooting arrows with him at the indoor targets he had set up.
When she finally asked why, Clint’s voice became hushed ,as if he were telling a secret.
“Her home life isn’t too great, Nat. I told her if she needed to escape, she could always come here.” He explained.
Natasha liked her; she sassed Clint on the same level that she did, but she also looked out for him when Natasha was away. Made sure he ate more than pizza, made sure Clint didn’t sleep on the couch every night in front of the television, and made sure Lucky was fed decent dog food every once and a while.
Though, there were times she had to make sure Kate was taking care of herself too.
“Your braid is crooked, you can’t go out like that. Let me fix it.”
“You need more than purple in your life. Have you ever thought of wearing more blue?”
“No, no, you can’t throw knives like that. Let me show you.”
“Thanks, mom.”
It was said sarcastically, but Kate’s averted gaze made Natasha think that it wasn’t meant sarcastically at all.
Her heart twisted; it was a strange feeling, being called mom like that. She didn’t not enjoy it, but…she didn’t know if she liked it. Kate certainly didn’t call Clint ‘dad’, she called him ‘jerk’ or ‘old man’ or ‘Hawkass’.
Huh. Maybe she did call him dad after all.
It was past midnight when Kate knocked on their door, near tears and a bag slung over her shoulder. A fight with her real parents; she hated them and she wanted to live with Natasha and Clint forever.
They both knew that she would go home in a few days despite what she said, but they welcomed her in, got her settled on the couch, and when Natasha tucked the last of the blanket around her, she pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head.
“Goodnight, Kate.”
“Goodnight, Katie.”
“Goodnight, guys…Thanks.”
When they returned to bed, Natasha’s head on his shoulder, Clint’s arm snug around her, she began to think.
“Do you ever think we would make good parents?” She asked, lifting her head to look at him.
Clint frowns, confused. “I thought we already were.”
She’s tired from being woken in the middle of the night and she can see it in his eyes as well, but she also sees the pride there. He felt accomplished for helping Kate in her time of need and wasn’t that what parents were for?
She leaned in to press a kiss to his lips before laying her head back down; she loved this man.
“Goodnight, dad.” She murmured teasingly and his shoulder shook with silent laughter.
“Goodnight, mom.”