Chapter Text
The door to the guest bedroom creaked softly when he opened it. It was still early, the kids were sleeping, and Laura was brewing coffee in the kitchen; Clint could smell the rich aroma floating upstairs. But before he went to pour himself a cup, he had to check up on the sleepyhead behind the door, like every morning since Christmas.
He wasn’t sure why he was doing it, but something was compelling him to keep checking in on her. Kate was the first thing on his mind after waking up each day since he brought her home to spend Christmas with his family.
With his hand on the doorknob, he peeked his head in.
Kate was fast asleep on her stomach, with one arm draped over the bed's edge and the other tucked under her head. One foot was sticking out from beneath the sheets. She appeared unconcerned, despite the fact that the blanket she had draped over her was twisted in every direction. Her sleep was peaceful and Clint preferred to leave it that way.
She needed to rest after everything she had been through. Clint has made sure Kate gets as much sleep as she needs since she arrived here on Christmas day, ushering Nate away from her door when the boy wanted to drag her out of bed so they could play with Lucky together, and asking the kids to be quiet while she slept. The fact that she was getting some sleep was more important than whether she woke up at nine in the morning or after lunch.
Especially today.
It surprised him, but Clint did not want her to leave. He felt more at ease when he was near her, knowing she was safe and not getting herself into trouble. The all-too-familiar seeds of protectiveness sprouted in his chest, reminding him of that fateful night in Budapest. Of flaming red hair and eyes that blazed with life whenever they caught his gaze across the battlefield. He hadn't felt that way since... since Vormir.
Years of training had made Clint nimble on his feet, so he quietly crouched down at the edge of the bed, head tilted to one side, to get a glimpse of Kate's face. Her hair cascading over her face fluttered with each breath, and he could not help but grin at her slightly parted lips. Unable to stop himself, Clint reached out and tucked the strands behind her ear. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment; she looked so much younger when she slept that he felt a twinge of guilt. She was too young to be getting herself into this madness. But, at the same time, she held her own, far exceeded all of his expectations, and she was determined — she was born to do this.
The next Hawkeye. His successor. His legacy.
He couldn't be prouder.
But also, he couldn't be more worried. Taking up his mantle was not the only thing that had just turned Kate's world upside down. She uncovered her mother's crimes, watched her being arrested, and was the one who made it happen. It takes a toll on a kid, especially one with such a giant heart like Kate.
Clint didn't want to send her back to that empty penthouse and the reality of dealing with the mess Eleanor Bishop left behind. Nothing will ever be the same and Kate shouldn't be dealing with that alone.
But her life was in New York. She had school, friends, and now the company on her head. He couldn't keep her at the farm like some princess locked in a tower just so he could feel calmer about this.
Nat would have teased the hell out of him if she were here.
It's the dad instinct, Barton. You can't shut it down, she'd laugh.
He missed her laugh. Could still hear it, deep inside his mind, so melodic and beautiful. He held onto the memory of it for dear life, praying to whatever God was out there that he’d never forget it. He would never forgive himself if he did.
Clint blinked quickly and pinched the bridge of his nose to staunch the tears that had begun to well up in his eyes without his knowledge. It happened every time he thought about her. There was no way for the rip in his chest, caused by her fall, to ever mend. But Clint realized with a sudden jolt that, with Kate here, it hurt a little less.
Natasha would have liked this kid; he was certain of that.
It wasn't even 8 a.m. yet so he stood up and headed for the door. Kate’s ride home wasn't coming till late afternoon, so they still had plenty of time. He stopped by the door, though and took another look at her sleeping form; in the past week, he got used to this view. He got used to everything: the sight of her sleeping in this bed in positions that her spine was definitely going to pay for in a few years, the extra plate prepared for breakfast and dinner, the competitive cheering and shouting whenever she joined Cooper in the living room to play video games. He got used to Kate moving around the kitchen beside Laura, the two working so seamlessly together as if they've been doing it their whole lives, and conspirative whispers and giggles coming from Lila's room late at night. To her joining him in the backyard or at the barn in the afternoons so they could shoot some bullseye and tease each other about their absolutely not shitty aim. It was as if Kate had slotted herself into his life in a way of a perfectly fitting puzzle piece and to remove her now felt downright wrong.
The irony of the exact same thing happening once before wasn't lost on him.
Clint sighed and closed the door, heading downstairs. He took a mug from the cupboard and poured himself some coffee, then sat at the kitchen table and looked out the window, trying not to think about how different tomorrow's morning was going to look, but his wife's sad gaze when he looked at her told him it wasn't working.
After all, he wasn't the only one in this house who didn't want Kate gone.
Two hours later, Kate came downstairs with her usual bright smile plastered on her face, and Clint wanted to sigh in relief, but the moment she sat down for breakfast, he knew the smile was forced for their sake. He exchanged worried glances with Laura as the girl dug into her scrambled eggs and bacon, but they decided not to say anything, at least for now. Kate kept up the chit-chat, threatened to torture him if he didn't tell her the secret to his special Barton scrabbled eggs and to no one's surprise, she gave Lucky a piece of her bacon, just like the rest of them did earlier.
Nate was still young; he didn't understand that his innocent joke could strike an unwanted chord. So he didn't see anything wrong with barreling into the kitchen and reminding everyone that a Quinjet would be docking close to the farm in a few short hours. The happy mood popped like a balloon against a needle and Kate's smile vanished as if it were never there. Seeing as she curled into herself, slowly, as if trying to make sure no one noticed (like she wasn't sitting in front of two trained spies), something deep inside Clint physically hurt.
Using his empty coffee mug as an excuse to stand up, Clint walked up to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, you wanna, uh, grab your bow and meet me in the barn? We can practice your aim, like we talked last night.” he asked.
Kate looked up at him with the tiniest of smiles on her lips, trying to fool him into thinking she was not seconds away from bursting into tears.
She shoveled the rest of her breakfast into her mouth to buy herself a few seconds, then stood up and nearly tripped over her own feet, trying to get out of the chair. “Sounds cool, but... I just remembered I still need to pack so... later, okay?”
She climbed the stairs two at a time and Clint moved to go after her, her name already at the tip of his tongue, but Kate closed her bedroom door and hid behind it, leaving the rest of the house in stunned silence.
Clint leaned against the staircase banister and sighed.
“Kate, wait…”
He looked at Laura helplessly, but his wife only sent him a sad look. There was nothing they could do.
He was almost done double-checking her brand new trick arrow set when she finally found her way into the barn. He put a bow in her hand, teased her about her aim (she had great aim and he knew it; he just loved to poke at that competitive streak of hers and watch her light up when she realized she impressed him) and they got to work. It's no S.H.I.E.L.D. training facility but it’ll do, though now Clint couldn't stop thinking about actually taking her to one one day. Of course, S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore but Fury still had some asses in his sleeves and the wheel had to continue spinning.
At the very least, training took her mind off the inevitable. Letting her try to split a wooden arrow in two allowed her to let off steam, and Clint watched with satisfaction and relief as tension slowly left her body and the big smile on her face became more genuine by the second.
That is, until the low rumble of Quinjet’s engines announced the arrival of her ride home.
Kate was doing her absolute best to hide how much she was dreading this moment. She tried to cover it with her usual jokes and sarcasm, but Clint knew.
It's funny. They've known each other for all two weeks and he was already attuned to her emotions in the same way he’d been with Natasha before. Even though he and Nat felt like two halves of the same being after a while, it still took some time for them to truly connect.
With Kate, on the other hand, it felt instant. He didn't know how to explain it. Maybe he really just had a soft spot for strays.
She said goodbye to the family in good spirits, smiling and hugging everyone tight. She thanked them all again for welcoming her in and made Nate a promise to bring Lucky along next time she visits (and Clint didn't miss the skip in his heartbeat at the prospect of a next time). The way Kate's voice trembled with emotion despite her trying to hide made Clint want to carry her bag right back into the house and call the whole thing off.
It didn't feel right, sending her back to New York alone. That's where her life was, he knew — her school, her friends, her world. But the thought of her arriving to an empty penthouse and a burned-down apartment did not sit well with him.
He had no other choice, though. He couldn't keep her here forever. The only thing that made him feel better about the whole thing was that the kid was capable. Of protecting herself, taking care of herself, living by herself. She's been doing that long before Clint stepped into her life.
It still didn't stop him from sending her off with a few more lessons.
“Remember, prioritize yourself over the mission. Chasing the lead is not worth it if it puts you in too much danger.”
“Okay.” Kate nodded along as they walked through the snow towards the Quinjet.
“And no overusing trick arrows,” he said, pointing to the bag on her shoulder. “These are for emergencies only , is that clear? Otherwise, you can forget about me making you more.”
“Emergencies only, got it.”
“And stick to street-level criminals, for now. Don't venture out of your home base area.”
“But what if I spot an Avengers-level threat?” She asked and Clint just could not stop a tired sigh from coming out of his mouth. What was with this kid and wanting to get herself right in the eye of a goddamn hurricane?
He had to rethink sending her back to New York another twenty times and convince himself that yes, this is the right thing to do before answering.
“Then you abandon ship immediately. You hide and contact me or any other Avenger in the vicinity, you understand?”
“Not if I can help!” She protested and Clint didn't know if he should slap his hand against his forehead or grab her shoulders and shake her. “I know I still have a lot to learn, but if I’m taking on the Hawkeye mantle, I think I should be there when–”
“You've already survived one alien invasion in your life, kid. I do not need you in the middle of another one.” He grumbled, opting to lift his eyes at the sky and ask God to please send some fucking help.
“You– you're talking as if there could be another one. Should I know about something?”
“Kate.”
His urgent tone finally caused her to stop and look at him, and there had to be something in his eyes that convinced her to quit the jokes. He had to make her understand that this was serious. This job had its perks, he couldn't lie. But it was also extremely dangerous, and her safety had to be the top priority. Above the joy and cool toys, above the kick of adrenaline, above everything.
She was so eager to be a hero. Meanwhile, he couldn't bear the thought of her not coming out of this alive.
After all, the blame would only be his to carry.
Trying to push away the images of her limp body under a pile of smoking rubble from the Avengers compound, Clint drew nearer to Kate, placed his hands on his shoulders, and ducked his head to meet her eyes.
“I need to know you understand,” he pleaded.
Please stay safe, for God’s sake. I can't lose you, kiddo.
The thought was so sudden and so surprising, he had to blink away the haze of confusion it left him with. It felt like getting hit in the head with a hammer.
But it also couldn't ring more true. He could not lose this girl.
Kate stared at him for several long moments, clearly taken aback by his urgency, before giving him a brief nod.
“I understand,” she said.
The relief that washed over him nearly sent him into the snow.
“Good.”
Having Hunter around was always a delight, though to get Clint to admit it out loud, not even a whole squadron of Black Widows would be enough. His constant babbling, as annoying as it was at times, was like sunshine sinking right into your bones. He was a good man and a great agent, and Clint was proud to call him a friend.
He was leaving Kate in good hands.
They took to each other like fish to water, which came as no surprise. Hunter's grin seemed contagious, and Kate was not immune. It was great to see how they bounced off each other; their sense of humor was almost identical.
But selfishly, Clint wanted a little bit more time alone with his partner.
“Take these bags inside, Hunter. Would ya?” Clint said as he handed one of Kate's bags to his friend, cutting off her questions about Coulson and stray radar. That was a story for another day.
(The sudden thought of Kate meeting Daisy Johnson that the conversation had brought him actually made him giddy and Clint made a mental note to try to arrange that.)
“And that's my cue,” Hunter said, winking at Kate before turning away and climbing up the ramp, totally not struggling with the weight of two overpacked bags on his shoulders.
The moment he was gone, the atmosphere got awkward, which was weird, to say the least. Clint could have sworn that after the adventures they've had, he and Kate were definitely past awkward. But the strange feeling of not knowing what to say was too stubborn to leave him so Clint pushed his hands into his pockets and started swaying on his feet, his eyes fixed on the snow coating the tips of his boots. It took him a moment to realize that Kate was doing the same.
He could almost hear Natasha laughing in the back of his head.
Look at you. Like two peas in a pod. I couldn't have planned it better myself.
It brought a shadow of a smile to his face.
“Thank you, Clint. For everything,” Kate broke the silence just when he was about to open his mouth and her voice sounded so little that it shut him up immediately. This girl was twenty-two years old, but right now, when she was giving him that sweet little smile and staring at him with those big doe eyes as if he hung the moon for her, she could very well be Lila’s age. And it tugged at his heartstrings in ways he did not expect when he looked into those eyes for the very first time, back in some dark alley in New York two weeks ago.
Had it only been two weeks? Why did it feel like Kate had been a part of his life much, much longer?
“Yeah, don't mention it,” he brushed her off, ignoring the tidal surge of emotions that washed over him. In order to hide his true feelings, he resorted to their typical playful banter, smirking as if he were going to tease her but his eyes had never lost their warmth.
“Just don't get into any trouble, alright?”
“No promises,” Kate teased back, because they're Hawkeyes and she could. It made Clint’s smile even broader. He shook his head and laughed, wondering how it was possible that it feels like they've been doing shit like this for years.
“If you need anything, let me know, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
“Kate, I mean it,” Clint insisted. “ Anything. ”
“Yeah, of course,” she nodded. “And, same.”
The Quinjet’s engines roared to life; even Lucky lifted his ears at the sound. Clint strained his neck, and inside the machine, he saw Hunter in the pilot seat, giving them a thumbs up.
They were ready to go.
“I should probably..." Kate murmured, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. All Clint could focus on was the sadness pouring out of her eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
She grabbed Lucky's leash in both hands and wrapped it around her knuckles, as if she wanted to buy herself a few extra seconds. It appeared instinctive, like she wasn’t even thinking about what she was doing. She took a step back, looked inside the jet—
—and released the leash so Lucky could skirt away alone.
Before Clint knew it, she was in his arms.
At first, he froze in shock. This was something new. But his arms rose and wrapped around her waist as if by themselves, and he was soon holding her close to his chest, his cheek pressed to her temple as she slotted her head against his shoulder in a way Clint could swear felt like it belonged there. And he found himself tightening the grip, his strong arms completely engulfing her thin frame as if they were made to hold her.
Because it felt like holding Lila while standing on the porch every time he was leaving for another mission. It felt like holding Nat, hidden in the dim lights of a safehouse on the other side of the world, as her nightmares about the Red Room ripped screams from her throat. And Clint found himself not wanting to let go because right here, in his embrace, was where Kate was truly safe.
Just like Lila and Natasha always were. Nowhere else but here.
“Take care of yourself out there, kiddo,” he mumbled into Kate's shoulder, his eyes closed as he sent out a silent prayer.
Please, please be okay, please.
Kate pressed herself even closer to him, nuzzled her face into his neck, and breathed deeply. Another action Clint suspected she took unknowingly.
“You too,” she choked out, and the sound only made him hold her tighter. Maybe it was selfish of him, but God, he really didn't want to let this kid go.
Kate eventually let her arms fall from around his neck and stepped back, concealing her flushed cheeks behind a curtain of dark hair that the wind was blowing into her face.
At least she could blame that on the cold.
Clint tucked his hands into his pockets. “See you around, partner,” he said, a smirk tugging one corner of his lips up as he said the word. He secretly loved watching Kate’s face glow when he called her his partner. In her eyes, he could almost see the reflection of the ten-year-old girl who witnessed him jump from a building during the Battle of New York.
“See you around,” Kate parroted. “ Partner.”
Natasha would’ve been so proud of her. Clint could almost feel her smile on his back, that shiny look glimmering in her eyes. No one could ever replace her, but Kate was more than worthy to be her — and his — successor. Their legacy. He couldn't have asked for anyone better and above all, he was so goddamn proud.
With a wide, though tight-lipped, smile, Kate gave him a little wave and stepped onto the ramp. Halfway through, she shouted over her shoulder.
“Don't delete my number!”
“No promises!” Clint shouted back, grinning.
The engines hummed louder, and Quinjet began to gently rise off the ground. Kate waved at him one last time, her smile as blinding as the snow around them, before sprinting inside and disappearing inside the cockpit. The ramp closed as the jet rose above the trees and flew between the clouds, where its cloaking system rendered it invisible.
Clint stood there, watching the sky long after it was gone.
"We are now heading back to New York, where another corporate titan is confronting an uncertain future. One week from now, the prosecution of Eleanor Bishop, the CEO of Bishop Security, one of the preeminent security firms in the United States, is scheduled to begin.”
Clint threw the remote on the empty couch seat next to him, dragging a hand across his face and sighing deeply. The all-too-common feeling of anxiety twisted his stomach as Eleanor Bishop's face appeared on the screen next to the news anchor. The pictured woman was caught posing with a polite but staged smile on her face, which made him scowl at his TV.
“Is that Kate's mom?” Lila's quiet voice came from behind him and when he turned, he saw his daughter standing in the archway to the living room, her eyes glued to the screen while the female host continued speaking.
“Bishop, who faces up to 15 years in prison on charges including money laundering and the murder of Armand Duquesne the Third, a member of the New York social elite, is currently behind bars.”
"Yeah." Clint nodded, his face grim.
Lila dashed around the couch to sit beside him and leaned toward the television, as if doing so would help her absorb more information. Clint watched her face change as she listened; the concerned expression on her face mirrored his own. It wasn't surprising at all — everyone at the house was just as stressed by this situation as he was.
“As the trial approaches and the situation appears bleak, interest is renewed in Katherine, the young daughter of Eleanor Bishop and the designated heir to the security empire.”
A shaky video of a young woman swarmed by paparazzi appeared on screen and Clint nearly shot out of his seat. All he could see was a wave of long, black hair behind a bag she held to her face as she tried to break through the crowd of people shouting questions at her. Questions about her mother.
Beside him, Lila sucked in a sharp breath.
“Kate.”
Kate, surrounded by a small group of friends, during what looked like a Saturday night outing. Leaving a restaurant and stepping right into the traps of these hyenas. She kept her head ducked, no doubt blinded by the camera flashes but just as her friends ushered her into the car (bravely pushing the shouting men away), the video caught a glimpse of her face: blank and frozen, save for her eyes, which were screaming in silent terror.
A wave of white-hot rage flooded Clint.
"Fuckin-" he cut himself off before the full curse could escape him; Lila was still sitting beside him after all. Not that she would hear him anyway — her whole attention was focused on the frozen video frame showing Kate's terrified face.
If only he had been there. He should've been there. Protected her from it. He was glad she had friends with her who were able to take care of her but if he were there, he would have made sure these fuckers didn't even breathe in her direction.
“No statement has been issued so far, neither from the daughter nor the company,” the woman on TV continued while the video shrank and moved to the side of the screen, a high-quality picture of Kate posing with her mother at some event appearing next to it. The juxtaposition was painful, to say the least. “But it's impossible not to speculate as to what will happen next. Who will take over? Will the empire collapse if the young daughter, who has so far maintained a distance from the company, assumes control of it? Guess we’ll find out in the coming weeks.”
Clint grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, and collapsed against the couch with a groan. This was bad. Really fucking bad. All of this attention could get Kate in serious trouble. Not to mention that she obviously was not taking it well. The frozen frame of her face flashed before his eyes. The girl was like a deer caught in headlights; if it had not been for her friends, she would have stood there completely paralyzed.
The worst thing was that he had a feeling this would happen; he's been worried ever since she went back to New York. The situation was bound to catch up to her sooner or later, no matter how hard Kate tried to ignore or avoid it. And she did try; every time he called, every time he asked, Kate either changed the subject or gave him some half truth just so he could let it go. He could hear the nervousness in her voice and could almost picture her fidgeting with something as she tried to come up with a satisfying answer.
He didn't want to push her. Respected her space. If she didn't want to tell him something, she had all the right to do so. But at the same time, his protective instincts were working on the highest gear and all he wanted was to make sure she's okay.
He kept his distance and there she was — clearly not okay.
“I’m worried about her, dad,” Lila whispered, looking at him with sad eyes. The sight broke Clint's heart. Lila had always wanted a sister; she said it many times when her brothers drove her insane, and when she met Kate, it was as if her wish had finally been granted. The two girls became almost inseparable, communicating in their own secret language, and for an only child, Kate proved to be an excellent big sister. Every night, Clint found himself leaning against the wall outside of his daughter's bedroom, listening to the giggles coming from the inside and grinning like an idiot.
Kate wasn't just his partner; she was a part of their family now. And family took care of their own.
Clint lifted his arm and pulled his daughter to him, letting her snuggle to his side.
“I know, baby,” he sighed as he dropped his chin into her hair and rubbed her back. “I’m worried, too.”
Later, when the kids were already asleep and the house had gone quiet, Laura found him in their bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms folded behind his head. He didn’t take his hearing aid off yet so he heard the sheets rustle, then felt the mattress dip on his right side. A moment later, his wife was by his side, sitting with her back against the headboard and smiling fondly down at him.
“Have you figured it out yet?”
“Figured what out?” he asked.
“Whether you should go to New York or not.”
Clint sighed. Was he really that predictable? Laura had the uncanny ability to read his mind like an open book, and no amount of spy training could ever keep him safe from her. It was one of the reasons why he married her.
“I don’t know what to do,” he confessed with a heavy heart.
Kate didn’t tell him anything about the trial, been avoiding all the questions about the situation. She didn’t want him to worry, which probably also meant she didn’t want him involved. But how could he sit back and watch it all unfold on TV when she was clearly struggling with it so much?
Laura slipped under the covers and lay on her side, her head resting on her folded arm.
“And what do you want to do?” she asked him, looking up at his face.
That was the easy part.
“I want to help her get through this,” Clint said, finally looking at her. “I feel like I should, considering, y’know, everything. Kate is a strong kid, but witnessing her own mother being put on trial? Having the whole country watch it happen? She shouldn’t go through that alone.”
Smiling softly, Laura reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. “Then you already have your answer,” she whispered. Her gentle touch made his eyes flutter and he released a breath, sinking deeper into the pillow.
But his doubts were persistent.
“She never said a word about the trail.”
Laura took her hand away. “And that’s exactly why you should go,” she said. When Clint opened his eyes, she was now leaning over him, propped on her elbow, watching him with serious eyes. “The first thing that stood out for me about this girl while she was here was how extremely independent she was forcing herself to be. It was hard for her to accept help and even harder to ask for it. She wanted to do everything herself and either keep helping out as much as she could or stay out of the way and be invisible. That’s why she didn’t tell you about the trail.”
Clint nearly laughed. Kate? Invisible? That did not sound like her at all. But the more he thought about it, the more proof of what Laura was talking about he remembered: always doing the dishes, insisting on helping with dinner prep, and having that guilty look cross her face whenever she was told she did not have to help. That first day, all her "Are you sure this is okay?" questions, and trying her damn hardest to stay out of the way.
He felt his chest cave in.
“She thinks she’d be crossing a line, asking for help.”
“Yeah. But she needs it. She needs you .”
This time Laura’s hand found its way onto his chest, where he grabbed it and held onto it. His wife was right; Kate needed him, no matter how hard she was trying not to admit it. She did it once before, right before it all went down. Tried to push him away, told him to go back to his family, said it was her mess to clean up, not his. But he told her, loud and clear, that her mess was his mess because they were partners, and partners did not leave each other’s side no matter what. It was as true now as it had been that day.
He had to go.
Lifting an arm, Clint pulled Laura close to his side and burrowed his face in her hair, a long sigh escaping him. “Is it okay if I’ll be gone for a few days?” He asked. Deep down, he knew what she was going to say, but he had to ask anyway.
“Stay with her as long as you need,” Laura said, snuggling into his side and closing her eyes. “You know we’ll be fine.“
Yeah, he knew that. He also knew he had to make a few calls first.
On March 16th, Clint slipped past the paparazzi and entered the New York State Supreme Court Building through one of the back entrances he knew like the back of his hand. It wasn't his first visit here, either official or unofficial; the layout of the building had been ingrained in his mind for years.
It only took him a few minutes to find the courtroom where Eleanor's trial was being held. He walked past security and staff unnoticed, moving silently on his feet and keeping his face down. Didn't even need to wear a tie and hold a briefcase — no one paid even a nickel of attention anyway. He knew he probably wouldn't be able to enter the courtroom with Kate but he wanted to catch her before and speak to her. Unfortunately, when he finally got there, it was already too late; the trial was about to start. He only caught a glimpse of her — a flash of fashionable purple suit — as she stepped through the door, surrounded by people he could only assume were lawyers. He tried to call out to her, her name already flying through his lips but it drowned in the chatter and the double doors closed behind her, leaving only an echo in the empty hallway.
Clint sank into a nearby chair and rested his head against the wall. All that was left for him to do was wait.
Slowly, the minutes passed, and he made no effort to keep track of them. The need to remain alert kept him from giving in to the temptation to disable his hearing aid. At least no one bothered him so he could wait in peace; on occasion, passers-by would give him an odd look, but they still were not curious enough to ask him any questions. They just let him be and he was glad. So he sat there with his eyes fixed on the door and his heart restless inside his chest, and all his thoughts focused on Kate.
How was she doing in there? Was she nervous? Definitely. He could imagine the way her hands must be shaking. She stepped inside the courtroom with her head high, looking every inch like she knew what she was doing, but Clint knew that kid. Probably better than anyone else at this point. He knew she must have been terrified.
Finally, the doors flew open and Clint instantly shot to his feet. People began to pour out, talking over one another, shaking hands, and patting each other on the back. Jack was there too, busy with chatter and charming people. Though the smile he had plastered on his face wasn't as wide as Clint remembered it, it didn't reach his eyes.
And then he saw her. A purple arrow standing out from all the whites and grays, and blacks. One of the attorneys she had entered the courtroom with offered her a handshake, and she grinned as he patted her on the shoulder. A lot of people were doing that, offering their congratulations and compliments on her bravery. Speaking on how it must have taken guts. Cold sweat started pearling at the base of Clint's neck; she must have taken the stand and testified against her mother.
Although Kate put on a brave front, thanking everyone and smiling throughout, Clint saw right through her — she was exhausted. Walking in high heels was not as effortless as she made it appear; her knees trembled slightly with each stride. And she was white as a sheet of paper; even her makeup couldn't cover it.
She got through the last few in a hurry and then bolted out of the crowd into the empty space of the hallway, the smile instantly fading off her face. She reached out blindly until her hand collided with the wall and she propped herself against it, taking a few deep, calming breaths. Clint was ready to move, already whispering her name but before he took a step, Kate lifted her head and her tired eyes landed right on him.
“Clint?” She whispered, part in shock and part in relief. Clint could swear he had never heard her sound this small before.
He took a step toward her. “Hey, kiddo.”
Suddenly, any trace of courage left her face; her features crumpled like a piece of paper and she began to make her way to him, stumbling clumsily at first, then sprinting before she barreled into his arms with a choked-up sob.
“God, Clint. It was awful,” Kate cried into his neck. “I felt like I was gonna be sick.”
Her breath hitched in her throat and she dug her nails into his back, clinging to him for dear life. Clint closed his eyes and rested his chin on her shoulder, pulling her close with a heavy sigh.
“Oh, Katie.”
He gently caressed her back and ran his fingers through her lengthy, black waves, smoothing them down her scalp. His body fell into the familiar rhythm of swaying back and forth, like a lone boat at sea — a trick that always worked on all his kids when they were distressed. While his movements were slow and gentle, he cradled Kate in his arms tightly, rocking her until her breaths became easier and her sobs subsided.
“Clint…” she wept and he pulled away to gently take her face into his palms. His heart tripped in his chest as he watched her lean into his touch the same way Lila always does.
“Shh, it's okay. I’m here now. I’m here, Kate,” Clint whispered, wiping away her tears. Kate wrapped her hands around his wrists and held on tight, as if afraid he'd disappear if she let him go.
“You came,” she choked out, then sniffled. There was a note of shock in her voice, blending with a note of guilt. After all, she didn't tell him anything.
Clint let out a soft chuckle and swiped his thumb under her right eye, catching another tear.
“Of course I came, kid.”
He could see the flood of immense relief wash over her, felt its force ripple through his hands as her whole body deflated with one deep exhale. Tears no longer rolled down her cheeks, but they still brimmed in her eyes, which made the look of gratitude she was giving him that much more heartbreaking. Clint had seen a similar look on the faces of countless people he had saved over the years but none of them affected him the way Kate did.
He wasn’t just a superhero doing his job right now. In every way, he felt like a father coming to his daughter’s rescue.
Kate continued to hold onto his wrists even as his hands slipped to her shoulders.
“Better now?” He asked her softly. Nodding, Kate wiped her nose on the sleeve of her suit.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need—"
“Kate?”
Kate instantly froze. A shudder shot through her body, and Clint felt her tremble under his hands. He didn’t need to look, he recognized the voice immediately, so instead he focused on the girl’s face, watching a kaleidoscope of emotions in her eyes. Fear, anger, longing, shame. When she finally turned to look at her mother, she did it like a machine, like she was forcing her body to move despite every cell of her being telling her not to.
With her hands bound behind her back, Eleanor was led out of the courtroom. Though her guards were gracious enough to allow her to pause when she called out to her daughter, they swiftly retreated as soon as she reached out.
“Kate, honey..." the words died on Eleanor’s lips.
Clint’s hand rested gently on Kate’s lower back as he stepped closer to her. Kate pushed her weight against it, leaning on it, and he knew it really was the only thing keeping her standing. She didn’t say a word, only kept looking at her mother, and when Eleanor realized her daughter wouldn’t speak, she moved her eyes to Clint.
Just like Kate’s gaze, her mother’s eyes told him everything. There was a hint of betrayal — at Kate for turning against her and at Clint for stepping in her place as her daughter’s protector and guardian. She felt sadness, deep and sharp as a blade, when she realized Kate trusted him more than her. But also a strange sense of relief, because she could read from Clint’s eyes that he would stop at nothing to protect her daughter — even if it meant protecting her from her own mother.
With a look of understanding and resignation creeping onto her face, Eleanor gave herself a little nod. She walked away in silence, hanging her head low.
Clint finally wrapped his arm around Katie's shoulders and drew her close. "Let's get out of here, Katie," he said as they turned away, and as soon as she felt his embrace, Kate tucked her head into his shoulder. Clint tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss against her hair. His good ear caught a small hitch in her breath.
He took her out of the building the same way he got in, through the back door. There’s no need for her to take on even more stress and face the paparazzi and reporters outside the front entrance; her lawyers can take care of that. Kate didn’t even seem to notice where they were going; she just let herself be guided out, blindly following him and trusting that he'd take her where she needed to go. Her eyes only gained focus when they got out on the street and the cacophony of the city’s noises hit her ears.
With his hands steadying her upper arms, Clint checked her over from head to toe and only let her go after he was certain she could stand on her own.
“Are you hungry?” He asked. “We could go grab something to eat; let you unwind a little.”
Kate let out a relieved sigh. “Please, I’m starving. I was so nervous I couldn't eat all day.”
A concerned frown curled across Clint's face. “No wonder you can barely stand now. Come on, let's go. I know a place nearby.”
He drew her back to him and led her down the street to a small burger shop Natasha had discovered a good ten years ago. He sat her down in a booth and watched her order a double cheeseburger, which she inhaled within minutes. It was good to see the tension melt from her shoulders and the lively spirit of the Kate Bishop he knew pour back into her, but the way she was trying to avoid the big topic despite it hanging over their heads like a giant rain cloud worried him. She couldn’t keep doing this.
On the subway, she slumped against his shoulder once more and his arm went up and around her instinctually; he didn’t even have to think about it. The need to keep her close had overridden everything else in him. Kate didn’t talk; she just watched the lights and images blur outside the windows with an unfocused gaze until they reached their stop in the middle of Brooklyn.
Sam was more than happy to help when Clint called him about borrowing the keys to Steve’s old apartment. He had the place set up immediately, even stocked the fridge and handed him the key when they met at the airport. Climbing four flights of stairs in an old apartment building made his knees protest but Clint decided that the awestruck expression on Kate’s face when he told her where they were was absolutely worth it.
He handed her some of his own clothes to change into and sent her to the bathroom, where she spent the next twenty minutes. When she came out, dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that were way too big on her, the look on her face begged him to ignore the redness around her eyes, an obvious evidence of crying and lack of sleep.
He couldn’t. Not when the sight of her in such a wrecked, vulnerable state caused his heart to tear itself apart.
“C’mere, kiddo,” Clint whispered softly, reaching out to her.
Taking his hand, Kate surrendered herself completely to his embrace. As he enveloped her in the blanket, she drew her knees to her chest to make herself as small as possible and curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Sighing, Clint leaned back on the couch, holding her close as he ran his fingers up and down her arm.
They let the silence fall over them, and Clint hoped it would be enough for Kate to fall asleep. There was nothing more this girl needed now, just hours upon hours of sleep. The world could stop for all he cared; nothing outside of this apartment mattered right now.
So when Kate decided it was finally time to address the big rain cloud above their heads, he was relieved but also a tiny bit disappointed.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she said, looking out the nearby window. The sky had become gray and rain was beginning to fall. “I didn't want to bother you.”
Clint let out a lengthy sigh. “I figured that much, didn't want to push you. But Kate— you could never bother me, okay? Your mess is my mess. It's as true now as it was back in December.”
“I know! I know, I just…”
He waited patiently as she trailed off, but after ten seconds of silence, Clint ducked his head to meet her eyes and gave her a little squeeze to get her to look up at him.
“What?” he asked softly.
Kate blew air out through her nose and began blinking furiously. Tears still welled up, unwelcome.
“I wanted to call you,” she finally admitted. “As soon as I got the letter. But you’ve already done so much for me. You and your family — I will never be able to repay you for your help. Dragging you back into this felt like asking for too much.”
Oh, this girl. It’s going to take her a long time to learn that she is not a burden, isn’t it? It might just take him the rest of his life to convince her, but frankly, Clint didn’t care. His fingers brushed against her chin, and when she didn’t get the hint, he gently tilted her face up to meet his eyes. When she did, he moved his hand to her cheek and caressed it affectionately.
“Nothing is too much, okay?” He told her. “Kate, I think, in this whole partner thing, you missed one crucial detail: there is absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
Without realizing it, Kate let out a gasp. She said nothing, just stared at him, speechless. A single tear slipped down her cheek, but Clint swiftly dabbed it away.
Then he continued softly. “If you need me to show up, I show up. One call and I’m hopping on the next flight or texting Hunter to give me a ride. That's what partners do, Kate. That's what family does.”
And Kate was family in every single way that truly mattered. He might have known her for only a few months, but with blinding clarity, Clint knew he would do absolutely anything for this kid, just like he would for Laura and their children. He might as well call it a day and say he got himself another daughter because that’s exactly who Kate was to him. And he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the eye and call himself a father if he left his daughter all alone, without help and support, when she needed him the most.
When fresh tears welled up in her eyes and a sob tore through her body, she did not try to stop them. Her breath hitched in her throat.
“Thank you for coming.”
Clint broke into a smile. He caressed her hair with his fingers before drawing her close and planting a tender kiss on her forehead.
“Always, Katie,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over her skin. “Always.”
This closeness was new to them, but it wasn’t new to Clint. That’s how he showed love. He couldn’t help but smile into Kate’s hair as he remembered how Natasha, so unused to being shown any form of affection, reacted almost like a stray cat to his first attempts at comforting her, hissing, scratching, and biting before finally giving in and melting inside his embrace. It was funny how Kate was the total opposite of that, longing for it and giving in as soon as she saw the opportunity, as if it was something she had always dreamed of.
Her giddy, excited grin flashed before his eyes from the night they met.
You’re kind of my favorite Avenger.
Yeah, it was probably even more than she dreamed of.
Well, he was happy to deliver.
“How did you know? About the trial.” She asked after she nestled herself back against his side and buried herself in the blanket.
“It was all over the news,” he replied. “Along with–”
"—with pictures of me hiding from the paparazzi, right."
Remembering the video he saw on TV, Clint held her a little closer. The soft smile he wore on his lips morphed into a frown.
“We were worried about you, Kate. It was a no-brainer; I had to come.”
Laura would have probably killed him if he hadn’t — that is, if his own guilt and worry didn’t drive him mad first.
Smiling weakly, Kate's eyelids began to droop as she struggled to fight off her growing exhaustion. After the day she had, it was no surprise. Clint kept watching her and the worry in his eyes only grew.
"No offense, kid, but you look like shit," he said and Kate could not help but laugh despite his serious tone. “Have you even slept last night?”
“Barely.”
“Get some rest. You have nowhere to be and I’m not going anywhere either. Sleep.”
“Okay.”
He tucked her under his chin and moved the blanket to better cover her. Laura had a good idea that he should bring it with him; he could tell just from the exhale Kate let out when he wrapped it tighter around her that it brought her comfort. She snuggled up to him, threw an arm across his middle, and with a deep sigh, she closed her eyes. Clint brought one hand up to smooth down her hair and also relaxed deeper into the couch, more than happy to be her pillow.
He thought she was falling asleep. Once again, he was wrong.
“Clint?” Her voice sounded so small when she said his name.
“Yeah?”
“She's going away for a really long time, isn't she?”
Clint sighed deeply and pulled her closer. How is he going to heal this kid’s scars?
“Probably, yeah,” he said, looking down at her. “But don't worry. You're not on your own anymore.”
He kissed her forehead again and felt Kate smile. It was a good sign. She finally rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, and this time he was certain she would not open them for a good few hours. Rain pelted against the apartment’s old windows and heavy drops kept sliding down the glass, just like Clint kept holding his kid and watching her finally get some proper rest.
He stayed, just like he promised. For days, for weeks, as long as Kate needed him. He was there for everything; he sat by her side during the meetings with lawyers and in the courtroom. And when Eleanor Bishop heard her sentence, he held Kate’s hand, his fingers intertwined with hers, to remind her that her hero is right here and he is never leaving her.
“Why?” Eleanor asked him one day, when he paid her a visit.
Clint looked her dead in the eyes through the glass window that was separating them and pressed the receiver harder to his ear.
"At the beginning of this, I promised you that I would keep Kate safe," he said. "And, just as you asked me to stay away back then because you could not lose your daughter, I can now ask you the very same thing because I cannot lose mine."