Chapter Text
Clint woke up in a strange place with strange people. The situation wasn't entirely confusing given that the last thing he remembered was his latest foster father's fist coming towards him. His location however, was confusing. Usually after such an incident, Clint would wake up in whatever room he'd been assigned to sleep or on the floor in the kitchen or living room, or in rare cases, a hospital or social worker's office.
This time, the 7 year old had woken up on a soft, brightly colored couch in a pleasantly warm room. There were huge windows with fancy drapes, and glancing outside, Clint observed a beautiful landscape unlike anything he'd ever seen. Something was definitely different this time.
Around him were 5 other children. A little redheaded girl shared the couch with him, while 2 boys were sleeping on the other couch. One had dark hair and was missing an arm and the other was blonde and pale and very skinny. A very young girl, probably under 3 years, was curled up in an armchair, and in the chair beside her was an older African American boy, likely 11 or 12 years old.
There were two adults at each entrance, but unlike the social workers with whom Clint had experience, these adults were all serious, heavily armed, African men. Seeing that he had woken, one of the adults came over with a pile of clothing and led Clint to a bathroom. The 7 year old used the facilites, but refused to change, so the guard eventually gave up and Clint was taken back to the couch.
Clint figured that he and all the other kids there were simply waiting to be picked up by their newest foster parents. The oldest was the next to wake up.
Sam woke up with a start. He was in an unfamiliar situation with unfamiliar people and immediately put up his guard. Surveying the room quickly, Sam determined that he was in no immediate danger and that it would be best if he were to cooperate with the armed guards present. One didn't grow up in Harlem without learning a few things.
Though he saw that one of the other 5 kids was awake, Sam made no move to interact. Instead, he took the clothes he was given and sat back in the chair to wait, refusing to change. He idly wondered what kind of foster home he would get this time. It made him a little sad, he'd liked the family he was with, but from past experience, foster care wasn't as bad as it was made out to be.
Steve and Bucky woke up at the same time. Immediately, they reached for each other. At that point, Bucky realized he was missing an arm and began to panic. Soon, both he and Steve were balling inconsolably and the guards gave up trying to give them new clothes.
The environment in which the two woke up was unfamiliar and confusing, and Steve's initial panic attack very quickly turned into an asthma attack. He was provided with a strange contraption, and though it helped, it also made him cry harder.
Bucky attempted to comfort his friend, but he had woken up one arm short and was still processing.
Wanda woke up crying. She cried for her parents and her brother, Pietro, but none of them came. Instead, an unfamiliar man approached her with strange clothing and tried to change her. She might have been under 3 years, but Wanda had learned the concept of “stranger danger.”
She cried harder, banging her fists and heels on the chair in which she sat. The man put the clothes next to her and backed off; he'd never spent much time with toddlers. Eventually, Wanda cried herself back to sleep, curled in the fetal position.
Natasha was the last to wake up. The 5 year old sat up slowly, surveying her surroundings and coming to the conclusion that she wasn't at any of the Red Room facilities.
On the couch next to her sat a sandy-haired boy who was looking at her curiously. A nasty glare had him backing away to a distance that satisfied Natasha. There were 3 other boys in the room, but none of them seemed keen on interaction, so she left them alone. The only other girl was a sleeping toddler curled up in an armchair, tear tracks running down her cheeks. Definitely not Red Room.
One of the guards came over to provide Natasha with clothing for her size and she took the clothes obediently, not speaking because she didn't know what language to use. She went to change in the bathroom that the man showed her, but not before her hand darted out and stole a knife from the guard's leg-sheath. He didn't notice, and she didn't change her clothing.
There was a sudden commotion in another room, and all but one of the guards rushed out. It was quite a long time, probably an hour or so, before anyone else entered.
When the new stranger arrived, Wanda, Steve, and Bucky were all awake and crying for their parents, while Natasha was threatening Clint with the stolen knife, she'd gotten bored, and the guard was leaning against the wall looking mildly annoyed.
The stranger, a man with a carefully trimmed goatee and strange futuristic bracelets, quickly took control of the situation.