Meanwhile, on the farm - Pietro

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"Nathaniel Pietro Barton!" I yell, as the kid toddles across the field. "Get back here!"

I'm certain we weren't this fast when Stark turned us into babies. Well, except for me. 

I stop to catch my breath. I've been trying not to use my power on Nate, cause it feels like an unfair advantage, but this is ridiculous. There's no way I'll catch him at this rate. 

I groan, roll my neck and start running. The world around me slows, and I feel the power in my legs. I forgot how good this feels. 

I catch up to him in a millisecond.

"Come here, you little rascal!" I say, catching him up in my arms.

Nate looks shocked for a moment, then he bursts into laughter as I tickle him.

I carry him back to the house, where Laura is making sandwiches for lunch. 

"There you are!" she says as I walk in, Nate swinging from my arm. "I was about to go hunt you down!"

"Sorry," I shrug, shaking my arm over the sofa. Nate clings on, screaming with laughter. "He's getting fast." I shake some more. "And strong. Come on, kid, get off!"

"No, Peetwo!" he whines, just before he falls off. I collapse into a kitchen chair. 

"Don't you have super speed?" Laura asks.

"Yeah, well..." I pause to catch the knife she drops before it lands on her foot. "I don't like to use it on him. It feels like cheating."

She just shrugs. "If I had super speed, he'd never make it further than the door. Speaking of..." She nods at said door. Nate is on his way out again.

I sigh. A second later, the door is closed and Nate is back on the sofa.

"Right. Cheating," she says.

"Honey, I'm home!" Clint calls from the back door. He took Lila and Cooper to their friends' house for the day.

"Why's he there?" I frown, turning to the front door, which Nate is trying to open. He can't reach the handle though, so I'm not worried.

"I've been married to him long enough not to question things like this," Laura laughs.

Clint walks into the kitchen and Nate squeals, "Daddy!" 

"Hey, buddy!" Clint grins as his son bulldozes into him. He almost falls over.

"You're just in time," Laura says, closing the last sandwich. 

"Oooh, sandwiches!"

Clint reaches out to grab one, but Laura slaps his hand and carries them to the table.

"Now you can have one," she says, and Clint reaches out again.

I pinpoint the one he's going for, zoom forward, grab that one and go back to leaning on the kitchen counter before slowing down time again.

"What the heck?!" Clint turns around to glare at me. "You come into my house, steal my child-" He indicates Nate, who is sitting on my feet, "and now you take my sandwich?!"

I consider it for a second, chewing on said sandwich, then say, "Yep, that about sums it up."

"Boys, boys." Laura shakes her head, making tutting noises. "Pietro, in the future, don't take Clint's sandwiches just to be a pain. Clint, there are plenty more on the plate. Take one of those."

Clint glares at me again, and I smile innocently. Then he turns and quickly grabs another sandwich. I consider taking that one, too, but then decide it would be nice to have somewhere to live.

After lunch, Clint leads me outside and says, "You need to learn to shoot."

"Nat taught me," I reply, confused. I'm not about to forget the endless training sessions, the painful rebound of the guns and the embarrassment of Wanda being better than me form the start.

Then he picks up his bow. "I'm very fairly sure she didn't."

I eye him suspiciously. "Is this about the sandwich?"

Clint rolls his eyes. "It's about the fact that you're Eighteen-"

"Nineteen," I interrupt.

"Nineteen, then, live on the Hawkeye farm and have never touched a bow before. It's outrageous. Cooper's only twelve, but he can hit the target. Lila can draw the string back almost as far me, and Nate can already the bow, even though it's bigger than him. It's your turn."

I roll my eyes and take the bow from him. "Alright, then."

He starts by teaching me the foot position, one face forwards, one sideways. He makes me go into it from all sorts of odd poses and actions. Once, he even makes me jump from a tree and land in the correct position. He doesn't do that again, after I panic, go into super-speed halfway to the ground and almost twist my ankle.

Then we practice arm position without the bow. He shows me just how far back my elbow should go, how curved it should be, the angle it should bend at. 

Then shoulders.

Then eye-line.

Then, finally, we move on to the bow. Except we don't start shooting yet. He teaches me how to nock the bow, again in the most ridiculous positions: while running, in the middle of a flip, hanging upside down from a tree.

There are so many things to remember that, by the time we move on to actually drawing the stupid thing, my brain feels like a saturated sponge. 


Word count: 873

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