Summary: Everybody has to have a reason to fight, to survive during a national disaster. Clint Barton was no exception.

Warning(s): Slash, smut, mpreg, hurt/comfort, angst, humor, blood, violence, romance, bad pick-up lines, closet-pervert Clint, and Tony being Tony.

Title: Achilles' Arrow

.:~*~:.

Clint awoke with a sudden jolt to the sound of heaving in the bathroom.

Getting up, he rubbed his eyes before shuffling to the bathroom, standing in the doorway as he observed the person hunched over the toilet.

"You need to go to the doctors tomorrow," he said while the person, huddled on the floor, gasped for breath.

Eyes glared upwards at Clint as a pale hand clutched at the toilet seat before relaxing as the fit receded once more. "Dinner was spicy tonight; it was probably just something from that. I'm not used to food being that spicy, you know."

Clint raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "For three nights in a row? Please be reasonable and admit that you're sick."

"And for the last time, it's just the food. I'm sure of it. Look, if I still have it by the end of the week, I'll go to the doctors then since it bothers you so much, but, for now, I maintain that it's just the food."

Clint's gaze softened as he looked down at his lover before reaching down to help him up, "Harry Potter, lover and sex kitten of Clint Barton, archer extraordinaire, that is all that I ask for."

In response, Clint got a shove to the shoulder.

.:~*~:.

Some would say that Clint and Harry made for a relatively…odd couple.

One was a marksman for a government agency and the other was a stay-at-home newspaper columnist who took care of the cooking and cleaning about the house.

They had met two years ago in a bar that Clint frequented, and Harry was forced to go to by Tony Stark, billionaire playboy and friend of Harry's who claimed that he needed to get out more. At some point during the evening, Harry got separate from Tony as he was waylaid by a pretty brunette in a low-cut top, when he felt a hand grope his ass while another crept around his waist.

Harry quickly stepped away from the wandering hands before turning around, affronted. "Excuse me!" Harry exclaimed.

The stranger, who Harry would later come to intimately know as Clint, gave a smirk. "How would you and your hot ass like to be pierced by my arrow?"

Harry, thrown off by the pick-up line, let out a small noise before he found himself laughing at the absurdity of the pick-up line, "I'm afraid if you really wanted to get into my pants, you'll have to use something better than that pick-up line. It was a nice try though, Achilles."

Clint frowned, "Achilles?"

Harry- eyes glittering in mirth- nodded, "Because, like Achilles, that arrow line was your downfall."

.:~*~:.

Harry was wearing down, and Clint could feel it.

For the past few weeks, Harry had gained an extra shadow in the form of Clint, following him and hitting on him with pick-up lines that Harry had never even heard of before- not that they weren't funny all the same- and, somehow, ever since that night, Clint has managed to incorporate the Achilles reference into every single line; "Did I die? Because I was just struck by your beauty" or "You're the only arrow I'd let slip past and hit me" or "Wanna let your quiver sheath my arrow?"

Finally, after much stalking and asking, Harry threw up his arms, "Yes! I'll go out on a date with you," he exclaimed, "just so long as you stop with the terrible lines!"

And so Clint managed to land a date with the object of his affections, and then another one with more following after that. Harry thought he'd get tired of Clint and his personality, but...somewhere along the way, he began to find Clint- and the lines he never stopped using no matter what- charming.

.:~*~:.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked Clint as they headed down for training.

"Nothing," Clint replied absentmindedly. They had just been in a meeting that he paid absolutely no attention to whatsoever.

"Right, because you just agreed to double duty and more paperwork because everything is just fine," Natasha said with a roll of her eyes.

Clint face-palmed and sighed, "I agreed to that?"

He knew that a few people directed some things his way, but he was too busy wondering about Harry to really pay notice. He just nodded and agreed sporadically but, otherwise, did not listen. He had hoped that Natasha would have been there to make sure nothing bad happened to him.

He stopped and turned to glare at her, "Why didn't you do something?"

"I tried to get your head in the game but you just weren't home. When after the third time of helping you dodge the bullet without so much as a thank you, I decided to let you take the hit. So, what's up?" Natasha asked, but really she was saying, "I know something's wrong. Tell me."

Natasha had met Harry during her time in Stark Industries. He was the only one not fooled by her, managed to catch her, and help her out. But unlike other people in her life, Harry didn't look down on her, or think her incapable of anything. It was hard to describe, but for the first time in a long time, someone just understood Natasha. Somehow Harry became a very close friend of Natasha, and that was saying something.

"It's Harry…he's sick," Clint sighed, feeling dejected.

"How sick?" Clint had known her for a while so he could hear the worry others couldn't.

"It's the third night he's been unable to keep his food down. He insists it's the food itself and that he'll be fine, but...I want him to go to the doctors just to make sure. But he's very adamant about not going."

"Be more persistent," though it sounded like a suggestion to others, Clint could hear the demanding voice behind it.

"He's agreed to go by the end of the week," Clint said with a frown.

"A lot can happen between now and then," Natasha warned.

Clint sighed again and said, "I know. I'm trying Nat, but you know how he can be."

Natasha smiled a bit, "I know. But do try harder. And, if all else fails, just pull out your secret weapon."

"My secret weapon?" Clint echoed.

"Call in Stark. If there's anyone who can pester someone to do anything, it's him. And you know how he gets about Harry," Natasha said. Stark had made himself the self-proclaimed best friend of Harry and, when it came to the wizard, it was a bit daunting at how overprotective he could be.

Clint shuddered a bit. It wasn't that he outright hated Tony, because he didn't. He thought the guy was pretty cool and funny, but his interest in Harry made Clint feel very jealous. Tony had known Harry before Clint and they have their own bond, and, even though Clint knows Harry loves him and is completely faithful, he still can't help but feel the gut twisting feeling of jealousy whenever he sees how close those two are.

It'll really hit him hard in his pride if it's Tony who gets Harry to the doctor's. Then he sighed once more. He was so worried about Harry that at this point he didn't care who got Harry to the doctor so long as he goes.

"I just might. But I'll try some of my own tricks first."

.:~*~:.

Clint got Coulson to cover for him for the rest of the day, and he quickly made it made to his and Harry's home. It was odd for Clint to think he actually had a home. Being an orphan who was raised in the circus, to working with S.H.I.E.L.D., he was used to always being nomadic. Then he met Harry and everything changed. Harry wanted something stable, he never went into detail as to why, but that was mostly due to their unspoken deal of not bringing up the past.

Though sometimes he was curious, especially whenever he'd find a scar on Harry's body and wanted to know the story, he always managed to hold back. He knew full well that he'd have to share similar stories with Harry and sometimes...with what he's done...he just can't. But Harry wanted a house and he got it, and when he asked Clint to come and live with him, well...their usual erratic, kinky, steamy sex was more of a passionate, slow, chick-sex-book-romance sex instead- which was amazing! The sounds Harry made were new and added to Clint's memory.

Clint had been smiling as he walked into their home, but frowned when he heard the sounds of heaving and smelled burnt food. He quickly ran to the kitchen and turned off the stove and placed the pot in the sink before running to the bathroom to check on Harry.

He knelt down next to Harry, and made soothing motions on his back. When the heaving completely stopped Harry leaned into Clint's embrace and asked, "Why are you home early?"

Clint smirked, "I have to do this randomly every once in a while to make sure you don't have a secret lover or something like in those soap operas on tv."

Clint's chest rumbled a little bit as Harry chuckled, "You give far more sex than I know what to do with. I don't think I could handle a lover on the side."

The archer loved his banter with Harry. It was one of the reasons he loved Harry and knew Harry loved him back. Not only did he tolerate it, but he encouraged it and played along. But he wasn't in the mood for that right now. He held Harry at arms-length and inspected him with a frown.

"Last night's dinner was my idea and it was spicy. That was my bad, I know. But you cooked for yourself today...this isn't the food Harry," Clint insisted.

"I'm fine," Harry replied and moved to wash his hands and mouth.

"How many times have you thrown up while I was and wasn't here?" Clint asked.

"Clint..." Harry said as he turned to face the spy.

"No Harry! This is serious. This can turn worse! I'm taking you to the doctor's whether you like it or not!" Clint declared.

"I'm not a little kid, Clint!" Harry fought back.

"Then stop acting like one and just go to the damn doctor!" Clint yelled back.

Harry turned away from him and crossed his arms. Clint could see Harry's reflection through the mirror and he sighed. He never liked fighting with Harry over anything; especially not when he could see the brief flash of fear on Harry's face. He walked up to Harry and embraced him from behind.

"I'm worried Harry...to the point of being scared. Please..." Clint closed his eyes, "If I need to, I will call Tony."

Harry turned around with wild, widened eyes, "Oh god no! I'll go...just...just with you though..."

Clint smiled and hugged Harry close to him. He mentally sighed though, "Tony Freaking Stark is my secret weapon to get my lover to go for help..."

.:~*~:.

Though Harry had agreed to go to the doctor's, he was very tense and fidgety as Clint led him to the waiting room and held him to his side. It was almost like a parent keeping a child in place during an annual check-up.

"Everything is going to be fine Harry. They're just going to check you, give you some meds, maybe a shot, and then we're on our way home. If you're a good boy and not complain, I'll give you a blow job when we get home, kay?" Clint asked with a huge smile on his face.

Harry just glared at him, crossed his arms, and pouted. They were in S.H.I.E.L.D's medical department. Clint didn't trust just anyone with Harry, and S.H.I.E.L.D doctors were sworn to secrecy and, more importantly were open minded and used to 'weird', something that was just what he and Harry were.

Clint was in the room as the doctors checked Harry's throat, his ears, his eyes, his reflexes, took his temperature, his blood pressure, took some of his urine, and some of his blood. While Harry tried to skip over some of the symptoms, Clint was having none of that. He spoke out when a question was asked, and added something he thought was needed.

He would admit he was a bit confused when they asked about their sex life. "Very active, but we're both clean and have no problem in that department whatsoever."

Harry blushed and tried to hide away while Clint just smiled down at him.

"What about protection? Do you use it?" the doctor asks.

"Why bother with it? Like I said, we're both clean, and it's not like he can get pregnant," Clint said with a shrug.

The doctor nodded, scratching at his chin, before continuing, "Well, we'll send the blood in for some testing to see if your ancestors could have had anything- from the lack of medical history, I can assume you wouldn't know of any gene-related diseases. Mr. Potter here is also in need of some shots he should have had as a child, but, until we get the test results back, it sounds like it's just a bad case of a stomach virus. I'll write some prescriptions for nutrients and vitamin supplements to take care of what he loses from the vomiting, but I want you to keep him on a bland food and liquid-based diet for now until we get the test results back."

Clint watched as the doctor gave Harry his shots before standing up, getting ready to leave.

"You are free to go now, Mr. Potter. We will contact you when the results come in." The doctor said, "In the meantime, here's the paperwork for the prescriptions."

.:~*~:.

Hours later, the doctor sighed as he looked through the test results one more time. They were all inconclusive and, aside from the vomiting, Mr. Potter's health was normal for his age. Looking towards the urine samples once more, the doctor sighed once again when he realized that, if this run of inconclusive testing continues, Mr. Potter would have to provide more urine.

Rubbing at his forehead, the doctor closed his eyes for a moment before opening them once more. For some reason, Mr. Barton's words kept coming back to him. The doctor-side of his senses screamed that it was an insane idea, that it was impossible, but…after experiencing spies and agents and alien gods, anything could be possible.

And, indeed, perhaps this idea wasn't nearly as mindboggling as he first thought.

Sighing for the third time that night, the doctor went back to another round of testing.

.:~*~:.

Two days later Clint and Harry walked into the waiting room to see Tony pacing back and forth.

"Finally! Where have you two been?" Tony demanded when he saw them.

"Uh...what are you doing here, Tony?" Harry asked.

"Jarvis is programmed to tell me everything that goes on with your paper trail and electronic life. Imagine the surprise I get to know that you're sick," he looked down at some papers in his hands, "Apparently been sick for a while, and yet I get no call, no text, no email! This is the 21st century mister, we stay connected!"

"It's nothing," Harry said calmly.

"Then why are you here if it's nothing?! What's with all the testing," Tony exclaimed.

"I don't really have a medical background and they wanted samples," Harry answered.

Tony's face was stoic as he looked at Harry. Then he sighed, "Are you in any pain? Do you need anything? Are you sure these guys are the best?"

"No, no, and yes," Harry said with a smile, "Go. You're a busy man, I'm sure."

"No way! I'm not leaving until some dude in a white lab coat and stethoscope tells me you're okay." Tony said with his arms crossed.

Harry sighed and dragged Clint along. They all waited silently until they called Harry up. Though Clint and Harry tried to get Tony to leave, Tony forced himself into the room with them and wouldn't leave. Eventually they decided to just let him stay, and waited for the doctor. When the old man came out with a clip board in hand, all of them were quiet.

"Mr. Potter...in all my years in the medical field, never have I come across something so...baffling," The doctor began.

Harry gulped and instantly grabbed Clint's hand, who tightened his grip on it. Tony gulped loudly and they all waited for him to continue.

"What was thought to be scientifically impossible has apparently become possible..."

All three looked at the doctor, silently questioning him with their eyes. Seeing the looks, the doctor sighed.

"Congratulations...you're going to be a mommy."

TBC...

Thanks to Catzi for Beta-ing this and also co-writing it :D