Divided |2|

fifteen

When Clint picked up his daughter, he wasn't sure what to expect. She had sounded okay on the phone, but he knew she was hurting.

So, when she hopped into the van—giving him a quick kiss on the cheek—and immediately went silent, he knew something was still up. 

"Victoria," he drawled out her name.

"Dad," she mocked him.

"You can talk to me, you know."

"It's really nothing, dad. I'll be okay."

"Well, your silence tells me otherwise."

"I need to focus on the mission, anyway."

End of that conversation, she indirectly said.

He sighed and carried on driving to where the Quinjet was parked, on the outskirts of town. Victoria followed the scenery with her eyes, but her vision blurred and felt wetness on her cheeks.

She raised her hand to her face and realised that she was actually crying. She sent a nervous glance to her dad, who was watching the road. She could still feel the tears flowing, her heart breaking along with them, and closed her eyes for he rest of the ride.

She tried her hardest to stop crying, but by the time they reached the jet she was practically sobbing, gasping for air as her chest constricted her breathing. Her mind raced and as much as she tried, she couldn't get the thought of Pietro and his hateful glare out of her mind.

Clint hopped out of the van hurriedly and ran over to his daughters side. He opened the door and pulled her into his arms. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. I'm right here."

"I—I just—I don't get it, dad! I try s—so hard to pretend like it's all okay when I know that it's not! I know I need to act like an adult now and—"

"—Woah, who said you needled to be an adult, Vic?"

She looked at him with still blurred vision and shook her head. She doesn't know how she got to that thought, but then again she couldn't sift through her thoughts at that given moment either.

"Nobody, but with the Accords—"

"—To hell with the Accords. Victoria, you are still a kid – so is Pietro and so is Wanda. What's going on here, you shouldn't have to be worrying about. But because you guys made the choice to be on the team, you are worrying about it. But, Vic—for the love of God—you still need to be able to be a kid sometimes."

"But—"

"—No buts. You have every right to be upset about the Accords, about Pietro. You have a right to be mad at him, and to cry. You can't go through your life trying to be strong all the time!" Victoria remained silent in her father's arms and he hugged her tighter. "It's hard for me too, you know. Every day, every time you go out on a mission – I have the urge to break down and cry, sometimes I do. But I have so much faith in you, sweetheart. And I'm worried about going out on missions too, worried that something happens to me and I have to leave you and your mother and Coop and Lil all alone. But that doesn't stop me from going. Because I have faith in myself, and my team.

"Now, it may look tough right now, but that's what we still are – a team. And no damned Accords could ever change that. You and Pietro? You're like the team right now. You—we—fight, but we know that we're stronger together and that we love each other. Right now, we're just... we're just taking a break, per se. That's what you and Pietro are doing too, taking a break."

Victoria broke into a watery smile and let out a small chuckle. "Where do you find all your speeches? TheatreFolk.com?"

"Mostly from your mom and practicing in the bathroom mirror, actually." He helped her out of the van and shut the door behind her. He guided her to the jet and they entered. "Now, let's wipe those tears," he spoke while wiping her face. "And let's go collect people to fight some crazy assassins."

Victoria settled into her seat as her father powered up the jet. She curled her feet up underneath her and placed her head on her arms. A quick nap, she thought – closing her eyes and falling asleep quickly.

Clint looked back and found his sleeping beauty, and smiled. He'd let her rest, even when they arrived in New York. And he set off to collect a Mr. Scott Lang.

***

Victoria awoke to an unfamiliar voice and her dad's voice in front of her.

"—A bunch of crazy assassins."

"Hey, is that—"

"—Yes, that is my daughter, Victoria. Do me a favour while I start the jet up? Throw this blanket over her."

"Uh, okay."

There was a lengthy pause before her dad spoke again.

"You can put the blanket over her, Scott. She's not a feral dog, she won't bite you."

"I just—I don't want to wake her up?"

Victoria opened her eyes suddenly and whispered, "Boo."

Scott jumped and made both Victoria and her dad burst into laughter. Scott straightened himself out and stared at them. "Ha ha ha, good one."

"You must be Mr. Lang." She smiled at him. "I'm Victoria Barton, it's nice to meet you."

"I know who you are, I saw you on the news." He handed her the blanket. "Congrats on helping those people out, you know."

She sent a small smile to him as she accepted the blanket, "Thanks."

"Well," her dad plopped down on his chair, Scott following and gawking at the controls. "Let's get this show on the road. We still have one more person to pick up and it won't be as easy as picking Scott up."

"Who else are we fetching?"

"Wanda Maximoff, who is under the watchful eye of her android boyfriend."

"Easy enough."

"Which is why you will be staying in the jet while we fetch her."

"But, why?"

The father and daughter ignored his whining. Scott took that as a sign and found a seat at the back of the jet, sulking, before passing out.

Victoria looked to where her dad was sitting, with a frown, and quietly asked, "Do you think she'll be on our side, dad?"

"She will be. She knows better than to not be. She knows what's right. And just like you," he nodded. "I have faith in her."

Victoria curled underneath the blanket. She didn't want to fall asleep again, but she couldn't help it when her eyes shut.

***
a/n

question, do you guys want Pietro and Victoria to reconcile ? I'm tempted to not let it happen but I'm torn.