Avengers Generations

Chapter 32

Clint didn't know what to do as he sat next to his wife's bed. He had unharnessed her, and she now sat up, breathing heavily with mental pain.

"I don't understand..." She kept muttering over and over, interspersed with recounts of impossible memories. "The hospital fire... Was that real?"

"Yes..." Clint responded "In Budapest." He couldn't stop looking into her eyes as they sat in the dim light... One of the little things he never thought he'd been able to enjoy again.

"And my mother left me there?" She asked in her rough, but beautiful voice.

Clint shook his head slowly. "Nat, you never knew your mom..."

"But... I don't understand..." Her voice was strong and firm, but Clint knew she was afraid. She was afraid of not knowing. "I don't understand..."

Suddenly, a scream echoed through the helicarrier from somewhere outside their room. They both looked up suddenly toward the room's small window, and Natasha jumped to the ready. They saw Raza crying out under the demonic glare of Loki in the room across the hall, and they looked at each other for a moment to judge their next move. Clint started to move his wheels toward the door, but stopped when Fury stepped into his line of sight.

The Director stood in the room with Loki and Raza, but only now moved so he could be seen through the window. He nodded knowingly across the hall, and the two ex-agents stood down. The screaming continued, however, so they had no choice but to listen to the torture until it died down.

"Just like the old days, eh?" Clint said in a quiet monotone after Loki lowered his arms and Raza ceased his screaming.

"I think so..." Natasha answered as the terrorist began weeping inconsolably to himself "I remember so much pain and suffering... So much anger and revenge..." She sat down slowly on the bed and stared blankly at the ground "...but I can't remember ever being happy..."

Clint thought for a minute. "What about our wedding?" He said, and then smiled bittersweetly "...or our honeymoon...?"

She laughed softly, but shook her head. "No..."

As Clint pursed his lips, the door opened quietly. He turned suddenly to see the familiar face of his son, but he noticed an unusual brightness in his eyes - the likes of which he hasn't seen since Jake was a boy.

"Hey, Dad..." He nodded, forcing a small smile as he stepped into the room and sighed unbelievingly "Mom..."

Clint felt a trebling hand grab his shoulder as his wife began breathing heavily.

"Jacob..." She said as she held back tears. Clint knew tears weren't in her nature - not unless pushed to the breaking point. "Clint, this is our son," she continued, half questioningly.

"Heh... yup..." Jake nodded, facing the ground but looking up at her timidly.

"I..." She shook her head "Clint, I remember..."

He turned to face his wife with searching eyes. "You remember Jake?"

"I remember everything..." Her deep, lovely voice broke and she pursed her lips. She held out her arms to her son, and after a moment's hesitation he hugged her tightly.

Clint suddenly realized what he was looking at; this was his family. His whole family together, when it had been broken for so long. He wiped a stray tear from his cheek as he smiled.

Peter lay strapped to a bed, his eye swollen from his attacker's punch. The dark-haired boy himself stood menacingly in front of him, glaring intently. Peter's ears were still ringing from the bloodcurdling screams from behind the grey wall, and he was afraid of what was to happen to him.