Is There Room For One More? (Post-Hawkeye)

                                    

                                          
Clint loves Christmas.
It's been a long time since he'd had the chance to celebrate it, and he'd begun to forget in those five years of despair just how precious this time of year can be. And though a part of him wishes he could have spent the last week with his family, he wouldn't change this for the world. Christmas feels just a little more special with Kate Bishop here. 
As the day comes to a close, the whole family is gathered in the living room. The fireplace is roaring, not that it's that cold outside, and they've already  gone through a small handful of Christmas movies. They've blasted their way through Rudolph and Frosty, and now they're onto A Year Without A Santa Claus (now that Nathaniel's finally old enough that Heat Miser doesn't scare him). 
It's getting to be time for yet another hot chocolate and cookies break when the doorbell rings. 
"Oh, did you guys invite someone else over?" Kate asks with a grin, doubtless eager to further integrate herself into her newfound family. 
Clint looks up at Laura questioningly, hoping that she'll know who's bothering them this late at night. She gives him the same look right back. It seems they're both equally as clueless. 
"You have no idea," Kate says slowly, "do you?"
Clint sighs and pushes himself to his feet. "You guys stay here. I'll be right back."
Lila frowns. "You don't think it's someone bad, do you?"
Clint forces a smile. "Of course not," he says. "But if they're really bad Christmas carolers, I want to save your ears."
She giggles at that, and Clint's smile grows a little more genuine. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. How he survived five years without the sound of her laughter, he couldn't say, but he's damn glad to have it back. 
As he walks out of the room, he hears someone scramble for the remote. He debates telling them that they can keep watching – it's not like he's never seen this movie before – but if they want to wait for him, he's okay with that. He'd be more than happy to prolong their movie night, even just by a few minutes. 
Clint must admit, of all the things he's changed in the makeup of this house, one design flaw he probably should have paid more attention to is the lack of windows next to the door. He glances through the windows throughout the kitchen, but while he can see the car parked out front, he can't see who's waiting for him outside the front door. 
It's probably unnecessary, but after this week's debacle, he can't be sure, so, just in case, he grabs an arrow from his quiver and grips it tightly in his hand. He doesn't expect to use it, but he's not taking any chances with his kids in the house. 
One hand holds the arrow behind his back, and the other reaches for the doorknob. This is it. One... Two... Three. 
It's...
Yelena?
She still wears the same clothes she wore the day before. Her hair is falling out of its braid, and her makeup is smudged, with traces of mascara running down her cheeks. As she looks up at him, he can see the tears welling up in her eyes, and in an instant, last night's fight is forgotten. 
His fatherly instincts kick in, and he finds himself tossing his arrow aside and spreading his arms before he even knows what he's doing. Yelena wastes no time barreling into him, burying her face against his chest. She chokes out a sob, and Clint has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep his own tears from forming. He wraps his arms around her, gently rubbing her back as she sobs. 
"I'm sorry," she chokes out. "I'm so sorry."
"Hey, it's okay," he whispers. "You're okay." 
"I'm so sorry," she sobs. "I'm so, so sorry."