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shanachie_quillTitle: Avengers’ Eyass (Part Two)
Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Phil Coulson, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, other SHIELD agents and various people
Fandom: Avengers
Series: wee!Hawkeye
Written For:
Prompt: Clint gets de-aged. And not in the way you think.
Summary: The Avengers have dealt with just about everything life has thrown at them, but when one of their own gets turned into a child, can they deal with that?
Rating: PG-13 (rating might go up)
Spoilers: comic verse
Warnings: swearing, cuteness, de-aged Avenger
Disclaimer: No one recognizable belongs to me. Not making any money off this.
Author's Note: Yes, I know de-aged has been done to death. But this isn’t your typical de-aged fic…as I think you’ll see. Yes, this is a WIP, but I’ve got a chunk more than this written so hopefully I’ll be about to post some more soon. For now, enjoy! Wow y’all just…loved this. More than I ever expected. Glad it was embraced so much. Hopefully you like this next installment as much. I forgot to thank the following people last time, chrismouse for her translations, illfindmyway and whogeek for well being them because I wouldn’t write half this shit without them.
Clint wiggled loose from Coulson’s grip as soon as they reached the conference room, heading for Natasha as soon as he was free. She reached down and lifted him into her lap, allowing him to cuddle against her.
“We were discussing an action plan for dealing with Agent Barton,” Fury explained as Coulson took a seat.
“We’re taking him back to the Tower,” Steve stated, clearly continuing an argument the senior agent had missed the beginning of. “He’s ours to protect.”
“I’m not sure that’s best,” Fury started.
“Actually that might be the best idea,” Coulson broke in. “He clearly trusts Natasha and Steve. And the rest of the team can look out for him.” When the Avengers and Fury just stared at him, he continued, “It’s probably the safest place for him. At least until we figure out how this happened and how to change him back.”
“Do we know how he ended up like this?” Fury demanded.
“No idea,” Bruce answered. “I’d like to run some tests on him, but I didn’t want to panic him too much.”
“And that’s another reason he should be back at the Tower,” Coulson continued. “If anyone can figure this out…”
“If the Avengers get called to a crisis, there’d need to be a way to get him to safety,” Fury stated. “Coulson, I’m assigning you to Avengers’ Tower. If they get called in, your first responsibility is to get Barton to the Helicarrier.”
“Yes, sir,” Coulson responded as Tony said, “Hey. Hey! Hey! You cannot just summarily move people into my house!”
“It’s not a house, it’s a monstrosity. And if it concerns the safety of my people, I will move an entire squadron of my people into your building,” Fury answered.
Tony grumbled but subsided as the team continued to map out a plan. Coulson glanced over to see Clint had drifted off, sleeping peacefully against Natasha’s shoulder. A glare from the Russian woman prevented him from commenting on the position.
Wee!Hawkeye Wee!Hawkeye Wee!Hawkeye Wee!Hawkeye Wee!Hawkeye
“He’s going to need clothes and toys and I’m not sure what all, but there are things a child needs. And he can’t stay on his own floor anymore,” Steve commented as they exited onto the main floor.
Tony waved his phone. “Way ahead of you, Rogers. Pepper’s using her shopping mojo and getting what we need.”
“You know we have people who could have done that,” Coulson commented.
“He’s ours, Coulson,” Tony replied. “And Pepper is family, too. She’ll know what to do.”
“We take care of our own,” Steve said. He shifted Clint in his arms, moving the boy to a more comfortable position. “Would it be better for him to stay on Natasha’s floor or mine?”
“Should he be sleeping this much?” Tony questioned, twisting his head to study the child. “I mean is it normal for a child this age?”
“It might have something to do with whatever turned him into a child,” Bruce replied. “No, seven year olds don’t normally sleep this much.” He brushed a lock of hair off Clint’s forehead. “Maybe you should put him down on the couch. We can decide where he’s going to sleep permanently later.”
Gently, Steve laid Clint out on the couch. He looked around; searching for something to cover the boy with and Bruce came over with one of the blankets they used on occasion. When Clint whimpered in his sleep, Natasha was there to sooth him. The others watched as she settled down beside him, clearly intending to watch over him.
Wee!Hawkeye Wee!Hawkeye Wee!Hawkeye Wee!Hawkeye Wee!Hawkeye
Clint came awake with a wail, screaming over and over as he tried to fight his way free of the blanket. Natasha reached for him as soon as his eyes were open, cooing, “It’s okay, dorogoy. We’re here. No one is going to hurt you. We’re here for you, dorogoy.” She unwrapped him, drawing him from the confining fabric.
“I want Barney,” Clint whimpered, even as he latched onto her shirt. “Where’s Barney?”
Natasha looked up at Steve and Coulson, who’d come to their feet when Clint started screaming. Coulson knelt down in front of the two of them, reaching out to touch Clint’s knee. “Barney’s not here right now, Clint. But we’ll be here. Natasha and Steve will stay here with you. And Bruce and Tony and Thor. I’ll be here.”
“You aren’t going to leave like Mommy?” Clint asked.
“Not if we can help it,” Coulson assured him. “Now. We have a question for you.” He waited until Clint’s grey eyes were fully focused on him before asking, “Where would you like to sleep? Near Natasha or Steve?”
Clint looked confused for a moment, then looked from one to the other as if considering his options. “I want to stay with Tasha.”
“Okay,” Coulson responded. “You think you want to meet someone else? And we’ve got some stuff for you. We thought you might like some other clothes and some toys.”
Clint looked at him suspiciously before burrowing against Natasha. “Don’t want anything.”
“You need to use full sentences, please. No more baby talk,” Natasha chided him. “No one here will hurt you.” He looked at her for a minute, as if judging her. “I promise,” she added. From one of her hidden sheaths, she produced a small knife and showed it to him. Tucking it back into the sheath, she handed both to him. “Do not use it on anyone without just cause or I’ll take it away,” she cautioned.
He nodded solemnly before sliding it into his pocket. “Thank you.” Turning to Coulson, he said softly, “I will meet your friend.”
The adults exchanged glances, trying to connect this tentative little boy with the snarky and confident agent they knew. “You have nothing to fear from us,” Coulson told him.
“There’s always something to fear,” Clint told him seriously.
“There is,” Natasha agreed when Steve would have reassured him. “But we will do our best for you.”
He seemed to accept this after a moment, slipping off the couch and holding out his hand to Coulson. “Can I meet your friend now?”
“May I,” Coulson corrected. “And yes, you may. Pepper is in the kitchen with the others. I bet we could find something to eat while we’re in there.”
Clint paused in the doorway to the kitchen, one hand scrambling for the edge of Natasha’s shirt and grabbing on. His grey eyes latched onto the strawberry blonde standing next to Tony and he refused to budge from the entrance. No one wanted to push him so Coulson and Steve moved around them and into the kitchen, greeting her warmly. After a minute, Pepper made her way around the island and came over to stand before him, crouching down so she was almost eye level. “Hello, Clint. My name is Virginia Potts, but everyone calls me Pepper. I’m a friend of Tony’s. And Natasha’s.”
Clint looked up at Natasha as if checking to be sure he was being told the truth. When the Russian nodded in confirmation, he unhooked his fingers, holding a hand out to shake. “Hello,” he said softly.
“Would you like something to eat?” she asked him kindly. “We have macaroni and cheese. And Tony asked me to get you some clothes and toys. There really wasn’t anything here for a young man your age so we thought you might like some things.”
His eyes lit up at the mention of food. “Mac and cheese?” he asked.
“As much as you want,” she assured him. “Come sit at the counter and I’ll get you a bowl.”
Clint tentatively followed Pepper into the kitchen, checking behind him to make sure Natasha wasn’t leaving and was in fact following them into the kitchen. He eyed the others in the room, clearly mapping who was where, even as he allowed Pepper to lift him onto a stool. He watched carefully as the new Pepper person went to the stove and spooned out a bowl of something before placing it in front of him. He peered at it for a minute before realizing it was food and he was starving.
“Has he said anything else?” Tony asked as Clint dug into the bowl, rapidly shoveling in food. The boy looked up at the question, but didn’t say anything. “Anything useful?”
“Tony. He’s just a child,” Steve protested.
“And the only one who might have any idea how he got this way,” Tony pointed out.
“He obviously doesn’t remember what happened,” Steve responded, clearly trying not to raise his voice.
“And what are we going to…” Tony stopped at the whimper from Clint.
They both turned to see Clint had pushed his bowl away from himself, hunching over at the counter. He’d curled up on himself as much as he could, covering his ears with his hands as he continued to whimper even as the argument ground to a halt. When Natasha reached out to stroke a hand down his back, he jerked away, some sense keeping him on the stool.
“They didn’t mean to frighten you, dorogoy,” she assured him. “No one is going to hurt you.” She had to repeat it a few times before he heard her, but he finally unwound himself and threw his body into her arms, wrapping himself around her.
Pepper clapped her hands, glaring at the men, even the ones who hadn’t been involved in the argument. “All right. All men over the age of ten out of the kitchen. Since you clearly can’t be trusted to act in a reasonable manner, Natasha and I will take care of Clint for now.”
“Hey, it’s my house. Building. You’re only twelve percent.” Tony stopped at her look. “Fifteen. Or never mind. She’s right. We should…um.” He jerked a thumb towards the doorway. “Go. Thataway. Now-ish.”
Clint’s head came up as the last sounds of the men leaving faded from the kitchen. Natasha tried to edge him back onto the stool he’d been sitting on, but he clung to her; tiny fists clutching her shirt. Speaking softly to him in a mixture of Russian and English, she coaxed him around until he was facing the counter again. Pulling the bowl towards them, she handed him the spoon. “You need to eat, Clint. Unless you aren’t hungry anymore. Would you like to see what Pepper bought you?”
Instead of answering, he picked at the food, ignoring the two women as he took small bites. Pepper waited until it seemed like he was involved in his meal before asking softly, “Is there a reason he’s so leery of arguments?”
Natasha stroked a hand down his blonde hair, soothing the child that had gone stiff in her arms. “Loud voices and angry words mean bad things,” Natasha replied in a voice just as soft. “Have you ever noticed how Coulson’s voice is always even? How he never raises it? No matter what? There’s more than one reason for it.”
Pepper’s face crumpled at the news. “Oh, the poor… I don’t know if I should say poor child or poor man.”
“He wouldn’t want your pity as an adult. And he needs other things now. He needs us to keep him safe and give him the life he didn’t have. Before. If we can’t have our Clint back, we can take care of the Clint left in our care.”
“I know you know the truth of it, but it’s not my place to ask,” Pepper told her. “There was nothing I could do for Tony. I met him too late to be a friend when he really needed one.” She reached out, gently brushing a hand through Clint’s hair when he didn’t pull away. “But I’d like to do what I can for Clint.” She smiled as he looked up from the macaroni he’d been playing with more than eating. “Would you like to see what we got you, little man?”
Clint twisted around until he could look at Natasha. “Can I?”
“Yes. Of course.”
Clint watched warily as Pepper began to pile bags on the counter by him, waiting patiently until she stopped. "How many do I get to pick?" he asked.
Pepper looked at Natasha, not understanding the question at first. When she realized what he was asking, her face crumpled. "Oh, sweetie, it's all for you," she told him. "We want you to have whatever you need. If there's something here you don't like or don't want, we'll get what you do want."
Clint looked at Natasha then back to Pepper. "I can have what I want? You won't take them away? Or send me back?"
"Oh, no, baby!" Pepper reached for him before realizing it might startle him. "Could I give you a hug? Please?" When he nodded shyly, she gathered him into her arms, assuring him as she held him, "We'll never send you away."
After a minute, he squirmed in her grasp and Pepper let him down. He eyed the stool for a minute before determinedly scaling it and setting himself up so he could peer into the bags. Within minutes, he'd spread the clothes across the counter and clearly lost interest in them and was attacking the packaging containing the toys.
Natasha looked up at a noise and wasn't really surprised to see the other Avengers hovering in the doorway. She hadn't really expected them to stay away for long. Clint also turned and held up the mini shield and hammer he'd found in the pile. "Look!" he exclaimed. "Just like Capwin America and Thor's!"
Tony looked almost pained at the sight. "Pepper? Really?"
"There's an Iron Man helmet, Tony. And a nerf bow and arrow, but he's five. He's got a limited attention span," Pepper answered.
Clint glared at her. "I'm. Seven."
"I am dreadfully sorry, Clint," Pepper apologized. "I didn't mean to mistake your age."
Natasha poked his side, making him giggle and distracting him. "How about we take these things to the room you're going to be sleeping in? And get them put away?"
Clint nodded, his eyes roving over the stuff as he clearly tried to figure out how he was going to pick it all up. "We'll help, Clint," Steve told him kindly. "Everything will get to your room."
dorogoy—sweetheart
On to Part Three
Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Phil Coulson, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, other SHIELD agents and various people
Fandom: Avengers
Series: wee!Hawkeye
Written For:
Prompt: Clint gets de-aged. And not in the way you think.
Summary: The Avengers have dealt with just about everything life has thrown at them, but when one of their own gets turned into a child, can they deal with that?
Rating: PG-13 (rating might go up)
Spoilers: comic verse
Warnings: swearing, cuteness, de-aged Avenger
Disclaimer: No one recognizable belongs to me. Not making any money off this.
Author's Note: Yes, I know de-aged has been done to death. But this isn’t your typical de-aged fic…as I think you’ll see. Yes, this is a WIP, but I’ve got a chunk more than this written so hopefully I’ll be about to post some more soon. For now, enjoy! Wow y’all just…loved this. More than I ever expected. Glad it was embraced so much. Hopefully you like this next installment as much. I forgot to thank the following people last time, chrismouse for her translations, illfindmyway and whogeek for well being them because I wouldn’t write half this shit without them.
Clint wiggled loose from Coulson’s grip as soon as they reached the conference room, heading for Natasha as soon as he was free. She reached down and lifted him into her lap, allowing him to cuddle against her.
“We were discussing an action plan for dealing with Agent Barton,” Fury explained as Coulson took a seat.
“We’re taking him back to the Tower,” Steve stated, clearly continuing an argument the senior agent had missed the beginning of. “He’s ours to protect.”
“I’m not sure that’s best,” Fury started.
“Actually that might be the best idea,” Coulson broke in. “He clearly trusts Natasha and Steve. And the rest of the team can look out for him.” When the Avengers and Fury just stared at him, he continued, “It’s probably the safest place for him. At least until we figure out how this happened and how to change him back.”
“Do we know how he ended up like this?” Fury demanded.
“No idea,” Bruce answered. “I’d like to run some tests on him, but I didn’t want to panic him too much.”
“And that’s another reason he should be back at the Tower,” Coulson continued. “If anyone can figure this out…”
“If the Avengers get called to a crisis, there’d need to be a way to get him to safety,” Fury stated. “Coulson, I’m assigning you to Avengers’ Tower. If they get called in, your first responsibility is to get Barton to the Helicarrier.”
“Yes, sir,” Coulson responded as Tony said, “Hey. Hey! Hey! You cannot just summarily move people into my house!”
“It’s not a house, it’s a monstrosity. And if it concerns the safety of my people, I will move an entire squadron of my people into your building,” Fury answered.
Tony grumbled but subsided as the team continued to map out a plan. Coulson glanced over to see Clint had drifted off, sleeping peacefully against Natasha’s shoulder. A glare from the Russian woman prevented him from commenting on the position.
“He’s going to need clothes and toys and I’m not sure what all, but there are things a child needs. And he can’t stay on his own floor anymore,” Steve commented as they exited onto the main floor.
Tony waved his phone. “Way ahead of you, Rogers. Pepper’s using her shopping mojo and getting what we need.”
“You know we have people who could have done that,” Coulson commented.
“He’s ours, Coulson,” Tony replied. “And Pepper is family, too. She’ll know what to do.”
“We take care of our own,” Steve said. He shifted Clint in his arms, moving the boy to a more comfortable position. “Would it be better for him to stay on Natasha’s floor or mine?”
“Should he be sleeping this much?” Tony questioned, twisting his head to study the child. “I mean is it normal for a child this age?”
“It might have something to do with whatever turned him into a child,” Bruce replied. “No, seven year olds don’t normally sleep this much.” He brushed a lock of hair off Clint’s forehead. “Maybe you should put him down on the couch. We can decide where he’s going to sleep permanently later.”
Gently, Steve laid Clint out on the couch. He looked around; searching for something to cover the boy with and Bruce came over with one of the blankets they used on occasion. When Clint whimpered in his sleep, Natasha was there to sooth him. The others watched as she settled down beside him, clearly intending to watch over him.
Clint came awake with a wail, screaming over and over as he tried to fight his way free of the blanket. Natasha reached for him as soon as his eyes were open, cooing, “It’s okay, dorogoy. We’re here. No one is going to hurt you. We’re here for you, dorogoy.” She unwrapped him, drawing him from the confining fabric.
“I want Barney,” Clint whimpered, even as he latched onto her shirt. “Where’s Barney?”
Natasha looked up at Steve and Coulson, who’d come to their feet when Clint started screaming. Coulson knelt down in front of the two of them, reaching out to touch Clint’s knee. “Barney’s not here right now, Clint. But we’ll be here. Natasha and Steve will stay here with you. And Bruce and Tony and Thor. I’ll be here.”
“You aren’t going to leave like Mommy?” Clint asked.
“Not if we can help it,” Coulson assured him. “Now. We have a question for you.” He waited until Clint’s grey eyes were fully focused on him before asking, “Where would you like to sleep? Near Natasha or Steve?”
Clint looked confused for a moment, then looked from one to the other as if considering his options. “I want to stay with Tasha.”
“Okay,” Coulson responded. “You think you want to meet someone else? And we’ve got some stuff for you. We thought you might like some other clothes and some toys.”
Clint looked at him suspiciously before burrowing against Natasha. “Don’t want anything.”
“You need to use full sentences, please. No more baby talk,” Natasha chided him. “No one here will hurt you.” He looked at her for a minute, as if judging her. “I promise,” she added. From one of her hidden sheaths, she produced a small knife and showed it to him. Tucking it back into the sheath, she handed both to him. “Do not use it on anyone without just cause or I’ll take it away,” she cautioned.
He nodded solemnly before sliding it into his pocket. “Thank you.” Turning to Coulson, he said softly, “I will meet your friend.”
The adults exchanged glances, trying to connect this tentative little boy with the snarky and confident agent they knew. “You have nothing to fear from us,” Coulson told him.
“There’s always something to fear,” Clint told him seriously.
“There is,” Natasha agreed when Steve would have reassured him. “But we will do our best for you.”
He seemed to accept this after a moment, slipping off the couch and holding out his hand to Coulson. “Can I meet your friend now?”
“May I,” Coulson corrected. “And yes, you may. Pepper is in the kitchen with the others. I bet we could find something to eat while we’re in there.”
Clint paused in the doorway to the kitchen, one hand scrambling for the edge of Natasha’s shirt and grabbing on. His grey eyes latched onto the strawberry blonde standing next to Tony and he refused to budge from the entrance. No one wanted to push him so Coulson and Steve moved around them and into the kitchen, greeting her warmly. After a minute, Pepper made her way around the island and came over to stand before him, crouching down so she was almost eye level. “Hello, Clint. My name is Virginia Potts, but everyone calls me Pepper. I’m a friend of Tony’s. And Natasha’s.”
Clint looked up at Natasha as if checking to be sure he was being told the truth. When the Russian nodded in confirmation, he unhooked his fingers, holding a hand out to shake. “Hello,” he said softly.
“Would you like something to eat?” she asked him kindly. “We have macaroni and cheese. And Tony asked me to get you some clothes and toys. There really wasn’t anything here for a young man your age so we thought you might like some things.”
His eyes lit up at the mention of food. “Mac and cheese?” he asked.
“As much as you want,” she assured him. “Come sit at the counter and I’ll get you a bowl.”
Clint tentatively followed Pepper into the kitchen, checking behind him to make sure Natasha wasn’t leaving and was in fact following them into the kitchen. He eyed the others in the room, clearly mapping who was where, even as he allowed Pepper to lift him onto a stool. He watched carefully as the new Pepper person went to the stove and spooned out a bowl of something before placing it in front of him. He peered at it for a minute before realizing it was food and he was starving.
“Has he said anything else?” Tony asked as Clint dug into the bowl, rapidly shoveling in food. The boy looked up at the question, but didn’t say anything. “Anything useful?”
“Tony. He’s just a child,” Steve protested.
“And the only one who might have any idea how he got this way,” Tony pointed out.
“He obviously doesn’t remember what happened,” Steve responded, clearly trying not to raise his voice.
“And what are we going to…” Tony stopped at the whimper from Clint.
They both turned to see Clint had pushed his bowl away from himself, hunching over at the counter. He’d curled up on himself as much as he could, covering his ears with his hands as he continued to whimper even as the argument ground to a halt. When Natasha reached out to stroke a hand down his back, he jerked away, some sense keeping him on the stool.
“They didn’t mean to frighten you, dorogoy,” she assured him. “No one is going to hurt you.” She had to repeat it a few times before he heard her, but he finally unwound himself and threw his body into her arms, wrapping himself around her.
Pepper clapped her hands, glaring at the men, even the ones who hadn’t been involved in the argument. “All right. All men over the age of ten out of the kitchen. Since you clearly can’t be trusted to act in a reasonable manner, Natasha and I will take care of Clint for now.”
“Hey, it’s my house. Building. You’re only twelve percent.” Tony stopped at her look. “Fifteen. Or never mind. She’s right. We should…um.” He jerked a thumb towards the doorway. “Go. Thataway. Now-ish.”
Clint’s head came up as the last sounds of the men leaving faded from the kitchen. Natasha tried to edge him back onto the stool he’d been sitting on, but he clung to her; tiny fists clutching her shirt. Speaking softly to him in a mixture of Russian and English, she coaxed him around until he was facing the counter again. Pulling the bowl towards them, she handed him the spoon. “You need to eat, Clint. Unless you aren’t hungry anymore. Would you like to see what Pepper bought you?”
Instead of answering, he picked at the food, ignoring the two women as he took small bites. Pepper waited until it seemed like he was involved in his meal before asking softly, “Is there a reason he’s so leery of arguments?”
Natasha stroked a hand down his blonde hair, soothing the child that had gone stiff in her arms. “Loud voices and angry words mean bad things,” Natasha replied in a voice just as soft. “Have you ever noticed how Coulson’s voice is always even? How he never raises it? No matter what? There’s more than one reason for it.”
Pepper’s face crumpled at the news. “Oh, the poor… I don’t know if I should say poor child or poor man.”
“He wouldn’t want your pity as an adult. And he needs other things now. He needs us to keep him safe and give him the life he didn’t have. Before. If we can’t have our Clint back, we can take care of the Clint left in our care.”
“I know you know the truth of it, but it’s not my place to ask,” Pepper told her. “There was nothing I could do for Tony. I met him too late to be a friend when he really needed one.” She reached out, gently brushing a hand through Clint’s hair when he didn’t pull away. “But I’d like to do what I can for Clint.” She smiled as he looked up from the macaroni he’d been playing with more than eating. “Would you like to see what we got you, little man?”
Clint twisted around until he could look at Natasha. “Can I?”
“Yes. Of course.”
Clint watched warily as Pepper began to pile bags on the counter by him, waiting patiently until she stopped. "How many do I get to pick?" he asked.
Pepper looked at Natasha, not understanding the question at first. When she realized what he was asking, her face crumpled. "Oh, sweetie, it's all for you," she told him. "We want you to have whatever you need. If there's something here you don't like or don't want, we'll get what you do want."
Clint looked at Natasha then back to Pepper. "I can have what I want? You won't take them away? Or send me back?"
"Oh, no, baby!" Pepper reached for him before realizing it might startle him. "Could I give you a hug? Please?" When he nodded shyly, she gathered him into her arms, assuring him as she held him, "We'll never send you away."
After a minute, he squirmed in her grasp and Pepper let him down. He eyed the stool for a minute before determinedly scaling it and setting himself up so he could peer into the bags. Within minutes, he'd spread the clothes across the counter and clearly lost interest in them and was attacking the packaging containing the toys.
Natasha looked up at a noise and wasn't really surprised to see the other Avengers hovering in the doorway. She hadn't really expected them to stay away for long. Clint also turned and held up the mini shield and hammer he'd found in the pile. "Look!" he exclaimed. "Just like Capwin America and Thor's!"
Tony looked almost pained at the sight. "Pepper? Really?"
"There's an Iron Man helmet, Tony. And a nerf bow and arrow, but he's five. He's got a limited attention span," Pepper answered.
Clint glared at her. "I'm. Seven."
"I am dreadfully sorry, Clint," Pepper apologized. "I didn't mean to mistake your age."
Natasha poked his side, making him giggle and distracting him. "How about we take these things to the room you're going to be sleeping in? And get them put away?"
Clint nodded, his eyes roving over the stuff as he clearly tried to figure out how he was going to pick it all up. "We'll help, Clint," Steve told him kindly. "Everything will get to your room."
dorogoy—sweetheart
On to Part Three
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