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"Nate, wake up. Natey," Clint whispered, shaking his son gently. The eight year old woke drowsily, rubbing his eyes slowly.
"Dad?" Nate's voice came out tired and confused.
"Yeah, it's me. Wake up and come downstairs, okay?" Clint tried to keep all of the emotion out of his voice.
"What's happening?"
"Road trip," Clint responded before grabbing Nate's bookbag that he had already packed with his clothes.
"But, Dad, it's late and I have school tomor-"
"Nate," Clint stopped his reasonable arguments, "Just put on a jacket and come downstairs. I'll explain in the car."
"Where's Papa?" Nate continued to dig for answers. Clint sighed before leaning down and kissing his son's forehead.
"Papa is getting the car ready with pillows and blankets," Clint smiled, "Just please get downstairs."
Nate smiled back up at his dad before nodding. Clint was thankful that this has stopped his questions, even just for right now.
He exited Nate's room and immediately resumed his anxious, yet serious behavior. He jogged down the stairs and over to the garage.
"Got everything?" He asked Pietro, who was standing behind the open trunk.
"I can't believe we're doing this again," Pietro sighed, looking over at the shorter man.
"We're not doing anything but being prepared," Clint responded matter-a-factly before shutting the truck.
"Where's Nate?" Pietro asked, zipping up his running hoodie that he refused to wear for the longest time.
"He should be coming downstairs now if you want to go get him. We have to leave now so no one catches us leaving town," Clint said, opening the drivers side door and getting in.
Pietro walked back inside and found Nate standing in the hallway. As he got closer, he could see Nate was staring at a family portrait of them.
"We're coming back, right?" Nate said so quietly that Pietro wasn't sure he heard him.
"Of course. This is our home."
Nate wore a frown for a second as he stared at the picture before taking it off the wall. Pietro just watched his son open the frame and pull the picture out. He placed the frame back on the wall and folded the picture into four squares to fit it into his jacket pocket. Pietro felt bad and really couldn't wait to get this all over with.
"Come on. Time to go," Pietro smiled softly, leading Nate out to the car. Pietro let Nate walk out first before looking back around their small, but comfortable house one last time.
They would come back, Pietro would swear to it.
He locked the door and hopped in the car next to Clint. Clint didn't say anything, but he gave him a questioning look. Pietro just nodded. So, Clint pushed the garage door button and started the car.
"Comfy back there, Natey?" Clint asked, looking in the rearview mirror at his son lounging across the backseat with three blankets and two pillows. His bookbag full of clothes and snacks was also back there because Clint didn't want to put it in the back with his things.
"So, where are we going?" Nate asked once they were out of the garage and driving on a dark road away from their house.
"Maybe you wanna get so sleep first before you start tiring your brain with asking questions," Clint jokingly suggested, but Nate just sat quietly before shrugging.
