Chapter Text
There was no speed limit. However, Bruce did notice a small, plain wooden board nailed to one of the trees along the side of the narrow road. It had a simple hand carved message that read, "Don't Be An Idiot." He chuckled at it and already began to feel as though a weight was lifting off his shoulders. The verbal directions Clint's gave him had been more than accurate and Bruce hadn't had any trouble finding the turn off onto the gravel road that wound through the woods. He drove slow, just taking it all in. It was May. Everything was blossoming and the trees were thickening with bright green foliage. With the windows rolled down he could breathe in the cool air. Bird song of all descriptions filled his ears.
.
The original cast members, as Stark liked to call himself, Bruce, Thor and Cap, were all in need of some r&r. Neither of them had taken a break in a long time, and after a particularly intense series of events, they needed one. Sam, Wanda, Pietro, and the others could certainly hold down the fort while they were away. So, the Starks headed to Florence, a trip they'd been putting off for some years. Tony joked that it was an overdue anniversary celebration of their first kiss and him not dying of palladium poisoning. Jane took Thor on his first visit to Iceland. Steve hadn't felt like anything flashy so he called up Natasha. Spending time with Natasha and family out at the farm would be a nice change of pace. For no reason at all, except perhaps too many years spent around Clint's sense of humor, she did not mention to him that Bruce would be visiting too. Neither he nor Bruce had discussed their plans with each other. It just hadn't come up.
Bruce had already been spending the last few of months really hoping to get away. He just needed a break from New York, from all the avenging. He missed his two old friends and wanted a little peace. He was tired and he sensed painfully the need for a little recalibrating of his relationship with the Hulk. He made a call to Clint, who welcomed him emphatically. Bruce smiled when he'd put the phone down that night. It would be so good to see Clint, Natasha, and the two boys.
Both Rogers and Banner left New York on the same day, still unaware of their shared destination. Steve left earlier in the morning, planning on a solo scenic motorcycle ride along the way. The day was already too gorgeous waste. Bruce drove out mid morning and arrived before him.
.
The drive eventually opened into a clearing and Bruce's eyes fell on the modest sized dark wooden house. When he pulled up to it, he saw Clint standing on the porch, firing arrows into the forest. The baby lay quietly in a bouncy seat beside him, just looking up at his dad's movements. Down in the grass, Natasha was kneeling with a short staff in her hands. Their little boy was with her. He had his own little staff and seemed to be having a blast knocking it against the one his mother held. Bruce smiled at the odd little family.
As he put the car in park beside the house, Clint hung his bow and quiver up on a hook out of reach from his son. "Banner!" He called happily as he walked to one end of the porch and hopped over the rail.
Clint was smiling as he came around to the car. "Welcome, buddy."
"Hey, Clint." Bruce said as he pulled his duffle from the backseat. They shook hands and Clint took his bag from him. Bruce followed him to the front of the house where Natasha rose to greet her friend. "Hi Bruce", she said, offering him a brief hug.
"Good to see you, Natasha. And Thank you guys again, for having me here."
Clint waved off the comment with disapproving expression, but Natasha spoke. "You know you're family to us. We're happy we can share this with you." She gestured to the open space and Bruce looked around. It felt so good to be there.
Wind was still standing at a distance, watching his parents welcome the semi-stranger. Bruce hadn't seen him since Isaac's birth and wasn't sure if he remembered him.
Clint ducked down to pick the child up. He came over with the boy in his arms. "D, this is Uncle Bruce. You remember him?" Wind stared.
Bruce chuckled. "It's alright".
"He'll warm up." Natasha said. "He won't be able to help himself."
Clint laughed. "We don't know how we produced such a friendly child." Then he beckoned, "Come on inside."
Bruce followed him up onto the porch.
"And this is Isaac." Clint said, crouching down by the baby seat.
The baby had an expression so calm and wise that it was almost funny. Bruce crouched down too. "Hi, buddy." He took Isaac's hand and gave it a gentle little shake. "Good to see you again."
"He doesn't say much." Clint said. "It's weird."
Bruce laughed.
When they went in, he was led to the right and into a hallway.
"Wind sleeps down the hall. Isaac's in our room. Bathroom's there, and the these next two rooms are spare. You're in here." Clint pushed open the door to one of the rooms. Bruce stepped in and looked around. It was spartan yet still homey. However, later when he would open up the closet, he would find a very large, very locked container that could not have been holding anything other than weapons. It was somehow nice to know that some things didn't change.
Clint put Bruce's bag on a chair and led him back down the hall. "Cap'll be in the other room." Clint added.
"Cap?" Bruce asked.
"Yeah." Clint said, looking at him. "Steve's coming too."
"Oh." Bruce said.
"Had enough of that guy?" Clint joked.
"No, no. I just didn't know."
"I guess he's taking a scenic route or something, because he said he'd be here a lot later."
"Sounds like him." Bruce said.
"You want some water or something?"
"Sure."
Bruce looked around the living room while Clint went to grab a glass for him. It was warm and not too spacious. Just enough. Clean, but very lived in.
Over by the fire place, a wood pile had thoroughly dwindled through the previous winter. Above the mantle hung a framed sketch that Steve had done for them when they got married. It was a simple picture of two non descript figures sitting in quiet conversation. Bruce remembered Natasha's quiet, but sincere appreciation of the gift. A blanket hung over the back of the couch and signs of a small child's presence were everywhere. Against one of the walls was a book shelf stacked with baby books, parenting books, as well as russian novels, children's books, firearms magazines, cook books, books on carpentry, gardening, beekeeping, almost everything really. Bruce noted a few self help/psych titles about raising children despite a lost childhood, protecting your children from your own past trauma, etc. He couldn't help but look away when he saw these. He knew his friends wouldn't feel intruded upon, that the books were out in the open, a part of their life. Still, he chose to respect their privacy in that small way. He wanted to know of those stuggles only if they chose to share them.
On the table there were crayons strewn about along with blades of grass and a few stones. Beside the papers covered with Wind's scribbles, there were little drawings that were obviously been done by either Clint or Natasha as they had sat there with their son.
Clint came to hand him the glass of water and nodded toward the table. "The little king of sticks and rocks."
"He's so big." Bruce said.
Clint nodded. "If you wanna take a shower, eat, or anything, go for it. It's your home while you're here."
"Thanks, Clint." And he meant it because he knew Clint and Natasha meant it.
"You got it. I'll be outside."
.
Bruce did take a shower and then found a bag of pretzels (something Clint never let his home run out of) to munch on. Then, he headed out to the porch to see what everyone was doing. Natasha was out working in the garden. Isaac was now asleep in the bouncy chair, napping peacefully in the shade of the porch. The sound of little Wind's laughter carried over on the breeze. Just inside the trees, Clint was doing pull up after pull up on a low, firm branch. Wind stood to his dad's feet, clinging to his knees as he went up and down with each movement. Over the past three years, both Natasha and Clint had found unique ways to incorporate their children into their work outs. Bruce laughed and sat down in one of the chairs. He leaned back and allowed himself to just relax. Now, he was on vacation.
.
Natasha looked up from where she knelt in the dirt. She could see Bruce on the porch, just watching the little world around him. She had noted the tiredness in him and was glad he'd come. She'd seen him on the edge of despair before, those times when running away felt like his best option. She'd never been the person to talk him down. That was Clint's and Tony's friendship with Bruce. Nonetheless, she knew. He'd been weighed down lately, that much was obvious to her. Knowing that she lived in a place that offered peace and maybe even a little healing made her happy. She pulled another weed and tossed it aside for composting.
.
The sun was down by the time Steve arrived. Bruce, Clint and Natasha, all seated comfortably on the porch, watched the single headlight from his motorcycle move through the trees. As he parked the bike, Steve did not yet notice his three friends sitting in the dark, just enjoying the night.
When he approached the house with his duffle in one hand, his foot steps sounded comforting in the dark.
"Hey Cap." Clint called from the porch.
"Barton!" Steve sounded very happy, if not a little surprised.
"Come on up. Have a beer."
When he stepped up on the porch, Natasha reached behind her for the outside light switch.
"Hi Nat." Steve leaned down to give her a big hug. "Kids asleep?"
Natasha nodded. "Wind is excited you're coming. Says he can't wait for your to chase him again."
Clint hadn't gotten up yet and Steve's eyes fell on Bruce who was sitting next to him. Bruce smiled sheepishly.
"Can I go on record here, please?" Steve said putting up his hands defensively with a big smile on his face.
"By all means." Bruce said.
Natasha just watched with her usual smirk. Clint was still holding his beer and already chuckling.
"I had no idea Bruce made plans to come here. I called Natasha-"
"I called Clint." Bruce interrupted.
Steve looked at the couple.
"What?" Clint said innocently.
Steve's cell phone chimed.
"It's Stark." Then he read the text aloud. "Run into anybody interesting?" Steve looked up. "He knew too?"
Natasha and Clint just laughed.
"And this goes off... now." Steve emphasized the last word and shut down his phone. Then he heaved an audible, exaggerated sigh.
Bruce chuckled slightly.
Steve dropped his duffle by the rail and sat in a chair by Natasha. She turned the light back off just as the bugs were beginning to gather. Clint pulled a beer from the cooler at his feet and handed it off to Steve.
"Perfect." Steve said, visibly relaxing in his chair. After opening his beer and taking a sip, he looked over at Bruce and then back at Clint. "Don't be an idiot. Really?"
Bruce almost choked on his beer. Clint chuckled.
"You two didn't see what Thor did to that road last time he visited." Nat said.
"We had to replace gravel because the ruts were so deep." Clint added. "That road's not made for quite those levels of testosterone."
Steve laughed. "I love that guy, but I'm still amazed that the state of New York gave him a driver's license."
"Or why he bothered to get one. He can fly." Bruce said.
"He was trying to be 'normal'. You know, blend in a little." Clint offered.
Steve and Bruce looked at each other. That ship had sailed for all of them quite a long time ago.
Natasha snorted a laugh and tried not to spit out the sip she'd just taken.