Chapter 5

Clint had never met anyone like Richard or Mary Parker.

Complete opposites that were madly in love.

Mary was seemingly the most pessimistic woman in the world, with a dark sense of humor, low expectations, and an unimpressed look she gave everyone, everywhere she went. She was a snarky, impatient and a stubborn woman who didn't take no for an answer but if her answer was no it wouldn't change. She was a virologist and when she wasn't in a lab she was being an agile, stealthy, and clever agent on the field.

This is where she and her husband were opposites.

Richard was an optimist, naturally charming, who was smart enough to not expect anything from anyone, but believed that there was good in everyone. If you knew him, you'd have to have received a wink from him at least one time, the entire time you knew him. He was an engineer, who was great at making enemies underestimate him with his chattiness before he kicked their asses. (Clint had seen it enough times to know Richard wasn't the completely innocent puppy he was made out to be)

They had a son. It was around 2001, and it was a sunny day in August, on the eleventh day of the month. Mary told a grinning Richard to go to hell for the hundredth time when Peter was born, and Richard cried because Peter was so perfect. Mary just smiled.

Instantly, Clint saw the resemblance in Peter to Richard and Mary.

From birth to age seven, Peter, Clint noticed, was more like his father than his mother.

It was in the way Peter always pretended to be okay, and never asked for help. Not because he was stubborn, but because he worried that he was taking up someone's time and wasting it. Richard did the same. (Even though everyone he knew wouldn't hesitate to make time for him.)

Peter got his father's facial expressions. Though the child, like his father, rarely got angry, he did once become actually a solid angry, but would once in a while get ticked off. The first time Clint saw it was when an agent talked shit about Natasha, and Peter who loved his aunt wholeheartedly, was very disgruntled, frowning at the agent and refusing to speak to them.

When he was happy he would grin and bounce up and down, just like Richard childishly did all the time.

As Richard did, he narrowed his eyes, pouted his lips, and crossed his arms when he was thinking hard about something, and his eyes would widen when he came up with the answer.

There were times when Peter got irritated too, but those only happened twice a year at most, because Peter was a patient child, but he'd look around, clenching his fists, and he'd purse his lips, trying to regain his patience.

But he also had some of Mary's qualities. Because he was stubborn, in the ways that he refused to back down. He got her politeness and her fake smiles.

But what he got from both his parents was his innocence, his kindness and his ability to lodge his way into even the most cold-hearted people's hearts and stay stuck inside there, never to be pried out, not that people wanted to pry him out, but if they did, it would be impossible. Clint knew. Clinttried.

When Natasha walked into the kitchen, Bruce leading a miffed Spiderman who glared at everyone in the room, to his room, Clint wouldn't have believed he was little Peter Parker, at least not the Peter Parker Clint had imagined him growing up to be, butNatasha wouldn't just say something like-

"You know whose child that is" she snapped the moment Peter was out of earshot, "that's Richard and Mary's kid, that isPeterfuckingParker,"

-And have not been completely sure about it.

Clint saw the resemblance immediately. Peter grew into his own face, but he had his father's good looks, his mother's beauty too, and he'd grown up to be like his mother, with a stern glare that put people to shame even if they hadn't done anything wrong. (Though they would probably start to think that with a glare like that thrown their way.) He also had his father's bipolar personality. Clint had seen him walk by, glaring, then something Bruce said made him smile, just for a second before he went back to being annoyed and irritated.

Peter got his father's figure, tall, lean, muscular, not like Steve, but still really muscular.

Clint was looking for everything Richard and Mary in the kid, while he let the fact the kid, Spiderman, was as Natasha said, PeterfuckingParker.

Thor, who had been hanging out on a different floor when Natasha left to interrogate Spiderman, was now sitting in front of Clint, a look of confusion crossing his features.

"But, we met this Midgardian when he was younger no? At that age, he would have the capability of remembering our faces? The young man seemed very cross and unfamiliar with us," he furrowed his brows and turned to Natasha, "I understand his... grumpiness, but the later, has me muddled,"

"Amnesia?" Tony assisted Natasha, leaning back in his chair, looking down at his phone, "his parents died from a plane crash, right? Peter was the sole survivor, got amnesia though' so-" he arched an eyebrow at Natasha, "am I right, this S.H.I.E.L.D file is telling me the stuff, not sure if it's complete in its accuracy,"

Without a confirmation, Natasha stood and headed to the elevator to her floor of the tower, "Make sure no one else can find that information Stark, we'll continue his interrogation tomorrow,"

Clint whistled, everything now put in place "so that's why he was mad, we're holding him hostage for another complete day," shaking his head Clint leaned forward in his chair, crossing his arms, "Natasha," he said timidly, "maybe we should hurry this up, Peter had always been very patient, but obviously, he's grown to be a lot more like Mary-"

But Natasha was gone, and Clint sighed.

"Talking to yourself Barton," Stark muttered, and Clint rolled his eyes at the snickers coming from the rest of the room.

Forcing it, Clint smirked, "it's honestly the only interesting conversation I can have around here," he quipped. There were a handful of scoffs and playful cursing around the room before Stark looked away from his screen shaking his head and said, "get out of here!" playfully.

Leaving with a smile, Clint was also carrying a heavy heart.

He would never forget the day he and Richard were on a mission, and he'd seen the panicked, scared side of the man, for the first time.

Peter had just been born, and Mary was going through postpartum depression, her past just now coming back to her, and Richard and Clint thought they were going to die, so Richard asked Clint to take care of Mary and Peter if something happened to him. Clint couldn't say no, so he nodded, but asked Richard of the same favor. For him to take care of Laura if anything ever happened to him. Richard swore he would.

Clint always thought that Richard would be the one to die, just because he was so reckless, and never hesitated to put everyone above him, and couldn't help the reflex to help everybody. Clint thought he would die a hero's death, and he thought he would have to take Mary and Peter in, not that he minded, but then both Mary and Richard died, and Ben and May Parker took custody of Peter, and Clint thought he'd never see Richard and Mary again.

Of course, he knew that he would never see Richard or Mary again because they were dead, but he had always seen them both in Peter, so that's when Clint knew there was really nothing left of Richard and Mary Parker for him.

So he tried to forget Peter, for a long long time, but the kid had won his heart the first day Clint saw him, and there was no getting rid of him.

Now, Spiderman, Peter, who was so much like Richard, it hurt, and so much like Mary, it hurt more, with his hero complex, his need to save everyone, his attitude, his eyes, Clint wanted to grab him, talk to him. For so long Clint just mourned the Parkers, but he had moved past his pain, and now it was coming all back.

When Clint got to his hallway, he jumped up and opened his vents, and crawled inside, then crawled to above Peter Parker's room, and looked down.

Creepy, he knew he was being creepy, but Peter was nostalgia, and Clint couldn't help what made him sentimental.

Pete was on running his hands over his face, glaring at Bruce who was kneeling in front of him, his hand on Peter's shoulder, trying to get the kid to calm down. Bruce was quite specialized now in anger management, Clint thought, so who better to help than him.

The kid would disagree.

"You swore that I would leave once I answer all your questions, fucking ask me your question, Bruce, I don't have time for this, the note will just excuse my absence, but it won't finish my work for me," the kid can pull of an angry face well, it's frightening, threatening, and Bruce looks ready to let the kid go, but he doesn't.

He sighs.

"I-" he looks at Peter, and sighs again, "wejust, need to ask questions, but we also need to tell you things, things you forgot,"

Peter stares at him as if he's grown two head then turns and looks straight at Clint.

"Well, come out then," he grumbles, then looks back at Bruce, "tell your friend to come out of the vents, he knows shit too doesn't he? Tell me whatI've forgotten,"

Bruce looks annoyed when he looks up at the vent, probably irritated with Clint's evesdropping.

Clint opens the vent, jumps down, and tilts his head in question at Peter.

"How did you-?" he motions toward himself, up at the vent and finished the question off with awhat the fucklook.

Peter cocked his head to the side and smiled snidely, "I think everything is a danger to myself, which works well for me half the time, so my sixth sense screams in my head when people like you are around,"

Clint pretends to be affronted, pressing a hand to his chest in the fake offense, "there is no one like me-"

Peter cuts him off with a smile, and it seems genuine and he sighs, "yes," Peter cuts him off, "yes, of course, you're the special one,"

"No seriously, "Clint lets his hands fall to his sides, "what do you mean'people like me?'"

"Eavesdroppers," was all Peter said before he turned back to Bruce, "so, shoot,"

Bruce and Clint glanced unsurely at each other because they had no idea where to start, and Clint thought it would be best if Natasha were also there to explain it because she was good at dropping information on children. A literal expert. Whether she hinted at it until those kids themselves figured it out or just slowly brought them out of their denial.

But Peter was impatient, and he seemed ready to beat it out of them so Bruce looked at his shaky hands and shrugged.

"So, amnesia, we heard you had it," he questioned meekly.

Peter looked amused and not at all expectant of that, while Clint just gave Bruce his most blank face which he seldom made in Banner's directions.

"You're going to tell me that you know my parents? Aren't you?" he said in a now very bemused tone of voice, pulling a knee up to his chest to rest his chin on, "a lot of people do, you know after the ferry incident, I was approached by a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, Maria Hill, I believe her name was, who claimed she also knew my parents, they worked together, so how exactly did you know them? Again I'm assuming that's why you're asking," he said a littler hurridly, trying to keep his voice as emotionless as possible, but Bruce saw the hopefulness in his eyes.

Clint stepped in this time, which Bruce was most grateful for as he really didn't want to make a fool of himself again. He also didn't know much of Peter's parents.

"I worked with your mother for over a decade," Clint explained, sitting beside Peter, "but I knew your father longer, we were in the special unit forces together for years before we joined S.H.I.E.L.D, we were field partners going entering S.H.I.E.L.D as well, and even before that we were both partners in the circus and before that, we both were in the same orphanage, that's actually where we met-"

Peter shifted to sit on his knees, expressing great interest, "my father was in the circus, my dad was an orphan?"

No one had told him that part. He was slightly confused with this part of his father that he knew had been the half that his aunt and uncle had avoided talking to him about. They described his father to be this perfect polite, movie star looking man, that Peter could never bring himself to try and remember him, do to the fact that he thought the man to intimidating to see as a father.

This was a completely different way to see his dad.

"But, "Peter wondered out loud, "my uncle Ben, he had a ton of pictures of him with my dad when my dad was like sixteen-"

"Oh, ya," Clint nodded, getting at where he was going" your dad went missing when he was three, kidnapped, but they did find him when he was fourteen, coincidentally, all the way in Florida when your uncle was visiting his half-cousin, your grandparents basically adopted me when they found out I was his best friend, and we went to school together until our last years of college when we decided to join special forces,"

"You knew him that long?" Bruce asked, frowning, after all, Clint had never spoken of this part of him before, and it was surprising.

Clint half ignored him, only acknowledging his question with a short glance, before turning to Peter who was now at full attention.

"How did they meet?" he questioned, quickly, leaning forward awaiting the answer, "my uncle and aunt didn't know, do- do you?"

Clint smiled looking back on that memory, "yes, of course, I do, very clearly I do, you see, your mother was a member of this- organization? The Rising Tide, a master hacker, and she kind of just hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D, to scare us, and so we tracked her, and it was your dad and I who were sent to actually recruit her, but your mother was a-" he snapped his finger looking for a modest word but really couldn't find one, " well she was abitch"

Bruce gave him a disapproving look while Peter's eyes went a little wide and he raised an eyebrow, in confusion.

"No," Clint chuckled underneath his breathe, "you see she was smart, her dad was a S.H.I.E.L.D, agent, and he trained her really well, too well and too hard in all of our opinions, before he passed, so when she was escaping our grasps the first time she well, she fought back, broke my arm and bruised your father's rib, she was a literal spitfire, but then Fury just wanted her even more, and apparently Mary, thought your dad was cute, because he's like you, in combat, talked all the time, and she just thought that was cute, so they talked, and he calmed her a bit, I mean, she broke his nose and bruised my ribs, but otherwise, the second time we tried to recruit her went better, but ya, she was a bitch when your dad first met her,"

Peter smiled, but Bruce scrunched his nose at Clint's wordplay, clearly disapproving of the way he was talking about Peter's mother.

"Ya, I got that from her well enough," Peter nodded leaning back against the headboard of his bed. Because he really had. In many ways, he preferred to fight before talking things out. His patience ran short when he wasn't being Spiderman.

Clint nodded, "Look, "he said slowly, "Natasha, she knew you,"

Peter said nothing just nodded and brought himself back forwards.

"She was really good friends with your mother, and she-" Clint closed his hands together," she loved you very much because you were always around at S.H.I.E.L.D bases, and you wouldn't leave her alone,"

Peter frowned, "my aunt never mentioned her, or that I knew her or you in the first place at all, like, I did see pictures, of a boy and my dad, who now I guess looked like you, but I never cared to look into it, never bored enough,"

"Wow, thanks," Clint gave Peter a blank stare, "ya but anyways, I'm guessing it's because they didn't know your parents were S.H.I.E.L.D agents, and they had no idea that you were at the bases, all in all, besides me, your uncle and aunt had no idea your parents knew the avengers or Nat, and in the plane crash, when you fell and got amnesia, you forgot,"

Peter shrugged, leaning back so his head was pressed up against the headboard, "mkay then. I totally believe you,"

Clint glared, "are you being sarcastic or?"

Peter sighed, "you could just be lying to get in my head," he said, "to get information out of me."

Bruce shook his head, "no Peter, that isn't why we are keeping you here it's just-"

"How did you know my dad?" Peter said, cutting him off, crossing his arms as he leaned forward, "if you really knew him."

Bruce blinked, "oh," he said, "oh, we weren't close, but I met your dad around the same time I turned into the Hulk. He was the only one who didn't want me dead, then I left, tried to keep my distance from anything that could turn me into Hulk, then we saw each other the day before-" he paused, "the day before he got on that plane and died,"

Peter had this hard look on his face as he looked away from Bruce.

"I bearly remember anything from that fall," he said, admittedly, "nothing really, except the sounds of bullets, my mother screaming and crying and my dad shouting my name,"

Bruce nodded sympathetically, but when he turned to look at Clint, he held a stony expression.

"Bullets?" he whispered, "they told us the plane had some problems and that's why it fell you're saying-"

"I tried to tell people the little that I remember," Peter said, sighing, "but everyone said it couldn't be true. The plane started going down, and my parents secured me in a life jacket but drowned during the ordeal. It's not what I remembered though," Peter said a bit frantically, "I remember bullets flying, a window shattering, screaming, shouting, and me being tossed off of the plane by my dad, or a blurry figure of him,"

Bruce met Clint's gaze.

Okay.

That was unheard of