TWIST OF FATE • A multi-ending Stark!Reader fic

\/\~9~/\/ - 3 Apr 21

"Look," he groans. "I don't know how to tell you this, but..."
You feel a growing sense of dread in the pit of your stomach, already anticipating what he's about to say. "But what?"
"I called your dad and told him where you were."
Yup, you guessed right. You freeze, whirling to face him. "You what?!" You grit out, grounding your teeth.
Clint runs a hand through his hair. "Look, Y/n, I gave you like three months. And it's been two years. Your dad deserves to know where you are."

"I can't believe you, Clint. I trusted you. And I'm not going to steep low enough to blow your cover too, but my god. Everything I've built, a life I've come to love, you just come sweep it all away. I thought you cared. Not understood, because I don't expect you to, but I thought you at least cared enough to not just ruin my life."

"Y/n, come on. Just talk to him, please."

"No."

"Why?"

"That's my business, not yours. Apparently, I can't trust you to not meddle if you do know, so I, therefore, can't trust you with it. And I don't see why I should explain in the first place."

"Y/n..."Clint begins.

"No," you interrupt, cutting him off and holding up your hand. "Don't say another word. You've said enough already.

With that, you take off running, Clint staring at you, lost, as you leave. Fucking Clint. Come on, Y/n, you should've remembered what happened last time you trusted people, you mentally berate yourself. Wherever you go next, it'll do you well not to forget.

Somehow, throughout your argument with Clint, you managed not to cry. Once you get back to the small apartment you're renting on your meager salary from I.M.F., though, that all sails out the window. You mourn the loss of your life, of the family you had managed to create, of the loss of trust. You pack slowly, taking the time to memorize every little detail of the crappy apartment. The mold stain on the wall, in between the old oven and essentially broken microwave. The spot in the carpet from whoever rented before you. The scratches on the wood floor in your room.

A knock on the door surprises you. Having completely finished packing, you grab your gun and head to the door. Please don't be dad, you pray to whatever deity there is. Crossing the fingers not on your weapon, you peer through the peephole. Ethan.

Sighing in relief, you open the door. "Hey, Ethan," you greet. "Come on in."

"Hey," he says, walking in. He notices the absence of the photos that used to line the mantle and the small trinkets you were able to pack. "Where is everything?"

Your face drops and the weariness shines through as you sit down, gesturing for Ethan to do the same. He doesn't take the seat you point to, opting to sit by you instead. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

The last of your unconvincing facade crumbles ad you bury your head in your hands. "He knows."

Ethan's eyes widen. "Like, him he? Your dad?"

You nod. "You can say his name, you know. He's not Voldemort."

"Okay, so Tony Stark knows where you are? How?"

"I ran into one of his old business associates--one of his old friends. He tried to convince me to tell my dad where I am, for like a couple of months. I said no, but I trusted him enough that I didn't think he'd go behind my back. I mean, I even told him the whole story. Almost all of it, at least. So I ran into him again tonight on the way home, he tells me that he contacted my dad."

"And by business associates..."

"Yeah. Ex-Avenger. One of the people I considered family, actually, one of the first to leave."

Ethan pulls you in for a hug. "It's okay, kiddo. Are you sure you don't want my help...?"

You shake your head stubbornly. "I'll be fine." You pass him back the phone he handed you earlier. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Y/n. Best damn agent I ever worked with."

"Don't tell Luther," you quip, causing brief smiles to appear on both of your faces. Yours falls off when you realize that he's another person you can't talk to.

"Tell the others I'm sorry? I'm not going to fake my death, but you can say that I died. I don't care. Obviously, tell Luther the truth. But... I'm almost back to where I started with the whole trust issues thing."

Ethan nods. You pull out a burner phone, handing it to him. "Here. If you ever need me, you can call. Only for emergencies, though. But I'll be there as fast as I can if you ever end up needing me."

He nods, taking it and putting it in his pocket. "If I memorize the number, will I still be able to contact you?"

"Probably. I'd keep it though, so I can tell you if something changes."

"Yeah." You two hug again, not wanting the moment to end for knowledge of what happens when it does.

You blink back tears, but one delinquent one manages to escape. You wipe it away, trying to keep your voice from cracking. "Bye, Ethan."

He releases you, giving you a sad look before heading out. "Bye, Y/n."

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