Author's Note: Hello! It has been a very long time since I've posted anything on this website, so I'm a little rusty on things. If you couldn't tell by the title this story is inspired by the Hozier song 'Like Real People Do'. That being said, I do not own the song, these characters, or anything Marvel claims right to. I do lay claim to some of the OCs in the story and just ask that you ask me if you'd like to use them. I really hope you enjoy this story!

Edit: I updated this chapter with some grammar/spelling mistakes that I'd caught. Enjoy!

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I had a thought, dear. However scary, about that night. The bugs and the dirt...

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The Alaskan woods were silent. Snow continued to fall on the already white landscape and not a footprint was to be seen from Dana Barton's tree stand.

"Dad," Dana pulled her walkie-talkie out murmured into the device. "I really don't think we're going to find anything today."

Silence was the only response she was given. She frowned in annoyance and sat down on her tree stand, took in the nature around her and scouted for any signs of life. There were a few rocks, and some more snow.

Dana wanted to go back home, curl up on the sofa in front of their fireplace and study her organic chemistry book. She had an exam once she got back to school and wasn't in the mood to be playing hunter in the forest.

"Look alive kid," a male voice stated from her pocket. Dana jumped into action, pulled her bow up and nocked an arrow. She scanned the landscape, seeing nothing, nothing but snow. "Six o'clock," her father noted slowly. She whirled around and loosed the arrow the moment she saw the elk. Her shot was echoed by the familiar whoosh of her father's arrow nearby, with both hitting their target.

The large creature went down in seconds.

Dana swung down from her tree stand and met her father on the forest floor. Clint Barton was just as agile as he'd been in his heyday, despite his age pushing his fifties. He landed softly on the snow and ushered Dana over. The girl swung her bow over her shoulder and hurried over.

"Do you remember how to clean an elk? It's been a while, hasn't it?" he questioned the 22-year-old. Dana pushed a strand of red hair out of her face and mocked offense.

"I've been away at school for four years and you think I've forgotten? That hurts," she rolled her eyes and helped her father flip the carcass. The pair got to work quickly quartering and cleaning the elk before it was loaded into a sled and pulled back to their cabin.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the pair. Clint dreaded those silences; Dana had become almost impossible to talk to over the last few years. He would have taken three tours in Budapest over trying to converse with his daughter.

"So what are you planning on doing after graduation?" Clint attempted to begin a conversation, but Dana was able avoid the question with ease, pretending to struggle with the elk carcass and giving a grunt of frustration. She gave enough silence to her father to justify a change in the conversation.

"Can you make some of that stew? I love that stew so much, with the big chunks of elk meat?" Dana replied, it was clear there were a number of traits she'd picked up from her mother whether she recognized it or not. She certainly did not like to talk about herself.

"I will, if you aren't slow with this," he grunted as they walked through the back door and pulled the elk in behind them. Snow covered the kitchen floor, a sight that was common in the Barton home during the winter months.

Dana grabbed her hunting knife from her hip and shrugged off her winter gear. She shook snow out of her red hair and got to work quietly carving up the elk.

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Within a few hours Dana and Clint had managed to clean the elk and store away any extra meat in their cellar.

Dana sat at the dining room table, and studied a large text while her father stood at the stove. He stirred the stew occasionally and sent a glance in Dana's direction.

She seemed to be engrossed in a type of chemistry, something Clint had no experience or skill in. A frustrated sigh revealed she seemed to be struggling with a particular problem. He was sure it was something Natasha probably would have been able to help the girl with easily.

He looked forward at the stove, and frowned. Twenty-one years had passed since Natasha had appeared at his doorstep, infant in hand, with a desperate plea. Things had gotten out of control, Coulson and the remaining members of SHIELD were struggling to keep HYDRA under control and Natasha was next on HYDRA's list.

He had not seen the red-haired spy since that day, and he feared for their reunion.

"Dad…!?" Dana called Clint back to reality. The stew had caught fire and Dana had already jumped into action. She grabbed a nearby extinguisher and stopped the flames before any serious damage could be done. "Are you ok?" concern flickered in her grey eyes for an instant.

"Yeah, just tired," he grumbled, trying to salvage what he could from the black goop.

"Maybe you should go lay down? I can make some cereal or something," she suggested. She looked exhausted, more so than her worn father. He finally gave up trying to save the stew and eventually grumbled he would deal with the mess in the morning.

"You get some sleep too," he ordered.

"I will, I will," she replied and retook her seat at the table.

"Night, I love you," Clint called from the staircase.

"Night," Dana shouted in response, her voice clearly distracted.

Clint made his way to the upstairs bedroom and closed the door. Some days he missed when Dana was little and had nothing to do but pester him. They had spent their days in the woods, hunting and fishing. Clint certainly wasn't a father figure, but he definitely tried his best. He tried to keep Dana close. He wasn't going to lose the only connection he had to Nastasha.

Things started going down hill after Dana announced after high school she wanted to study outside of the state. They had a vicious fight and nothing had been the same. She started working and saving money and eventually paid for her to fly south and study in the US mainland. She barely visited unless he begged and the two of them would usually spend their nights in solitude.

Clint settled into bed and pulled open his side drawer to search for his sleeping pills. He hadn't had a restful night of sleep in years and a friend from town had offered to pick him something up for it. He wasn't entirely sure what they were, but they helped.

His attention was drawn to the metal box he stored in the drawer, his "emergencies only" box. Dana didn't know of its contents, but he taught her when she was little that she was to grab this box, her bow, and run as far away as possible if there was ever an emergency. Of course he framed it as a fire or break in to the young girl, but he knew the wider application of the word "emergency".

Popping a sleeping pill in his mouth, he turned his light off and stared at the ceiling.

They'd be coming any day now, that much Nat had managed to warn him. To comfort himself he loaded his pistol and kept it within reach. No wonder he needed drugs to sleep at night.

He made a promise to Natasha that he would protect their daughter and he'd be damned if he broke that word.

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