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Clint Barton can’t help but see his own son as he looks at Peter Parker.
The quiet hum of the jet is the only sound that can be currently heard, everyone either resting or tending to their own wounds. The Avengers had been called out to a Hydra base that had seemingly been thought to be abandoned. When they had arrived, it had become clear very quickly that it was not, and they had been thrown into a fight before they could even set the jet down.
Hydra had put a good fight, but they had gotten the upper hand and taken them down. It had taken them hours and by the end of the fight, Clint was starting to feel his age. He was more than happy to get back onto the jet and take a seat, parts of his body aching in a way it probably shouldn’t be.
But as he looked over to the opposite seat and took in the bloody features of Peter Parker, he couldn’t help but think of his son.
Clint liked Peter. The kid was an even bigger nerd that Tony Stark and one of the sweetest and most down to earth kids that Clint had ever met. He was kind, polite and if Tony hadn’t of shared with the team a very brief history of Peter, Clint wouldn’t have suspected that the kid had already been through so much in his short life. And Clint knew that Tony had kept some details of Peter’s personal life to himself, and he knew that no one had dared to dig deeper on the kid.
Watching Tony Stark become a father before their very eyes had been an experience. Everything they thought they knew about the genius, everything that had ever been profiled about him, had been wrong. Clint thought he would never see Tony care about anything the way he cared about himself but seeing the way he acted with Peter, Clint took it all back.
Tony had made it perfectly clear that if they did anything to Peter, then they would be facing the full wrath of Tony Stark.
“When I’m done with you,” Tony had warned them. “Not even Baskin and Robins will hire you.”
Clint would deny it till his dying breath, but the threat had given him the chills.
“Hey,” Clint called out softly.
Peter’s head jerked up and he blinked owlishly at Clint. “Mr. Hawkeye, sir?”
Clint stood, telling himself that the sound wasn’t his knees popping, and crossed the space between them. He crouched in front of Peter, offering the kid a smile. “It’s Clint. How are you feeling?”
Peter blinked. “I’m okay.”
“You sure about that?” Clint asked, eyes tracing over the bloodied lip and the bruises around the kid’s temples.
“Yeah. I’ll be mostly healed before we land,” Peter nodded and then gave a small wince.
“Right. Handy little power you have there,” Clint said. “Still got all your fingers and toes?”
Peter lifted his hands and made a show of counting each finger making Clint snort.
“Smart ass,” Clint chuckled, and Peter grinned back.
“What’s going on?”
Clint looked up sharply as Tony approached from deep in the jet. In his hands he held a candy bar and a bottle of apple juice. Tony expression was soft as he took a seat next to Peter, handing over the chocolate bar and juice but his voice sharp as it was directed at Clint.
Of course, Tony was already on getting Peter what he needed. Clint was an idiot for forgetting that Tony would have known the second that Peter was hurt, and that the genius would have already formulated a plan on getting his kid the best care.
“Just making sure Peter has all his fingers and toes,” Clint said, rocking back up on to his feet so that he was standing once more.
“He better,” Tony warned playfully to Peter. “And all of those fingers better be opening that candy bar.”
Peter sunk into Tony’s side, fingers clumsily trying to open the candy bar while holding the juice bottle. With a fond quirk of his lips, Tony plucked the bar from Peter’s hands, un-wrapped it before giving it back to Peter and taking the juice instead.
It was such a dad move that Clint couldn’t help but grin.
Peter happily munched on the candy bar, sinking deeper into Tony’s side, eyes slipping close.
“Don’t fall asleep eating that,” Tony warned. “I’m not having you choke because you fell asleep mid-bite.”
Peter mumbled something under his breath but kept chewing as he squinted open on eye. He finished the bar and took the juice Tony offered him, sculling half the bottle before he passed it back to Tony.
“Now can I sleep?” Peter asked around a yawn.
Tony wrapped an arm around Peter, hugging him close. “Snooze away, kiddo.”
Clint watched with an aching fondness as Peter snuggled into Tony’s chest, making himself comfortable before his face slackened and his breath evened out.
“Is he really asleep?” Clint asked, arching a brow at Tony.
Tony looked at the watch around his wrist, giving a small hum. “Vitals says he’s almost in REM.”
“Now that’s a superpower,” Clint said admiringly. He looked at Tony, letting a smirk grace his lips. “You know, used to take me ages to get my kids to sleep.”
“This here is a miracle,” Tony snorted. “You know how many times I catch him out past his curfew still on patrol?”
Clint grinned. “Teenagers, right. Although, I’m glad my teenagers don’t have superpowers. Not sure I would know how to handle that.”
“It’s called a tracker,” Tony said with a rueful grin. “And a new grey hair every day.”
“That’s ‘coz you’re old,” Peter mumbled into Tony’s chest.
“Shhhh, Spiderbabies should be sleeping,” Tony said, smoothing a hand through Peter’s curls.
“Not a baby,” Peter grumbled, words trailing off as he fell back into sleep.
Clint chuckled under his breath. He missed his kids and when he got back, he was going straight to his farm to see them.
“Hey,” Clint said softly.
Tony gave him a questioning look.
“I wasn’t trying to overstep,” Clint said. “I know you care about him. You’re his dad. My own instincts kicked in, but I wasn’t saying you couldn’t –“
“I know,” Tony said. “We’re good. And I didn’t mean to growl at you. It’s just…”
“He’s your kid,” Clint finished.
“Yeah.”
“I get it,” Clint nodded, giving a small smile. “You know, most dad’s just go out for a beer, not go tearing down Hydra bases.”
“Eh, so we are a little different,” Tony shrugged. “Also, I’m sober so beer is out of the question.”
Clint grinned. “Maybe we should try golf?”
Tony snorted. “Yeah, maybe we should.”
Clint nodded and rolled his shoulders. “Well, I’m going to rest so I’ve got enough energy to go home and keep up with my kids.”
“Yeah. You need anything?” Tony asked. “Candy bar? Juice?”
Clint chuckled. “Save those for Peter. But thanks.”
Tony nodded and Clint felt the genius’s eyes on him as he returned to his seat. Clint may not always see eye to eye with Tony but there was one thing that they could agree on when it came to their kids; they would burn the world down for them if they had to.