It's a Spider Thing. {Peter Parker and Natasha Romanoff}

{5} it's a spider thing

"SO LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT." Clint breathed after Natasha finished her story. She'd explained the coordinates and the warehouse in a breezy manner that Clint was going to circle back on eventually, he just had a few questions first. "You just waltzed in there and practically adopted a kid?" His voice was incredulous while he stared at Natasha who was sprawled out on the couch, facing the direction of the balcony so she could sneak glances at Peter periodically.

He was still sat out there, now peering up at the sky with a blank face but she could see the exhaustion in the dip of his shoulders.

"Fury knows too." Natasha commented with a small shrug, reluctantly switching her focus back to Clint. He was perched on the coffee table, ignorant of the array of guns he had shoved to the side as he made space for himself as if owned the place- Natasha rolled her eyes at his inability to sit in a normal seat. "I'm not giving him up. So don't ask."

"Wouldn't dream of telling you what to do." Clint grinned when Natasha's lip quirked in approval before sobering a moment later. "Guessing he means a lot." He added, a lilt of interest in his voice.

Natasha hesitated, biting back her initial words of 'Yes. He does. He means so much to me in such little time that it's terrifying-' because then she'd have to confront those feelings despite their truth and sincerity. Peter did mean a lot. And maybe it was down to their similar backgrounds; trained and forced to be someone you didn't want to be at such a young age- she didn't know. Didn't care beyond the fact that as long as he was safe then she'd be happy. The kid still had a chance to be normal, to escape the nightmares and horrors that lurked around in his past, waiting in the dark.

Her eyes flicked from Peter to Clint. She wanted to give him that chance. Like Clint had done for her. "Yeah. He does." She finally breathed out, electing to keep the rest of that sentence to herself.

Clint waited another beat, as if half-expecting her to keep talking but he knew her better than that, so instead he clapped his hands together.

"Well. Dysfunctional family bonding time then." Natasha arched an eyebrow.

"I was joking before, you know." She spoke slowly, as if he had suddenly lost a brain cell. Natasha knew Clint would step up and claim the kid if she asked, would take him in because it was her asking- but she wasn't sure Peter would be too keen on the archer doing so. In fact, she was pretty sure he would kick Clint again and definitely put an end to the Barton bloodline.

"And I wasn't. What's new?" Clint sighed. There was a serious set to his jaw.

Then he was suddenly on his feet and wandering over to the balcony to poke his head out. Natasha gawked after him before scrambling to her feet. Peter looked up, clearly startled at the sudden arrival before it morphed into confusion at his solitude being interrupted. Especially by the man he had put into a choke-hold not even half an hour before. "What pizza do you want?"

"Erm." Peter blinked. "What?" His eyes darted to Natasha who materialised behind Clint, hitting him upside the head before sliding out into the cool air with practised ease.

"He'll take whatever."

Clint disappeared into the apartment again, leaving the door open in his wake. Natasha moved to follow, wanting to let Peter have all the time he needed and not rush him into joining them inside even though the night was only getting colder. But then she caught him turning to face her and she instinctively looked back; his head dropped slightly onto his chest. "I'm sorry."

The words were quiet and Natasha's features softened at them as she laughed lightly. Peter looked up in surprise, his eyebrows knitting together in another bout of confusion at her reaction. "Kid, he's used to it. No harm done. Besides, I've tackled him a few times too. Don't sweat it." For a moment Peter looked like he wanted to say more, but thought better. Then his lips curled into a cheeky smile.