AN: I watched the avengers movies this weekend, and may be on a bit of a marvel kick. Have some Hawkeye as a result.
Prompt: Being Clint’s wife, and having to say goodbye
You follow him around the room with your eyes. You watch as he stuffs articles of clothing in his bags. When he sighs and straightens up you grimace, with a sad smile he turns to face you, “I have to go.”
You nod, “I know.”
“I don’t want to.”
He gives you a crooked smile before walking over to you, and wrapping his arms around you, “Well aren’t you just a regular braniac.”
You give a small smile, “I have to be, to keep up with you.”
He says nothing else, just kisses you on the lips, before grabbing his bag, and heading towards the stairs. You follow him down, and out the door on to the wrap around porch. You stare at the three boys playing with the family dog in the front yard.
Clint glances back at you, “A little help?”
With a smile, you put two fingers to your lips and let out a sharp whistle. A second later your boys are running towards you. You watch as they tackle their dad. He hugs, and kisses each one, making them promise to be good. After he’s done with each one, they come to stand by you. At nine, six, and four your boys are old enough to understand why daddy has to leave, but not grown enough to come to terms with it.
You pick your youngest up, and hold him at your hip. Clint smiles, “Be good.”
You blow a kiss and simply say, “Make me Barton.” He laughs and heads to the car. The four of you watch him drive off, and when he’s gone, you plaster a smile on your face and ask, “Who wants ice cream.”
There’s chorus’ of me, and your youngest wiggles out of your arms to run to the kitchen with his brothers. You simply smile, and follow along; because while you may not be an Avenger, you do have a mug that assures you, that you’re the world’s greatest mom.