"Alright, listen up, kid."

Clint said crouched in front of the fireplace in a hoodie and beat-up jeans, cradling a small, worn-out teddy bear like it's the damn Infinity Gauntlet.

"Everyone's scrambling to put their war face on, Steve's out there planning to punch a space god in the chin, Stark's probably monologuing to his toaster again, and I... well."

Currently everyone was out making a fighting plan to go against Thanos. You were sent to hide out in Clint's home with his family for awhile so you don't get hurt. You were new to the Avengers and young so everyone didn't want your first actual battle to be with Thanos of all people. But that upset you. You wanted to fight and be helpful!

Clint glances down at the bear currently in his arms looking confused at its presence but just shrugged it off as he often did.

"I stole this. From my daughter. Because currently? She's mad at me for eating the last toaster strudel and declaring movie night was not up for debate."

He stands, turning to face you. Dad stance activated. Arms crossed. Head tilt. That patented Clint Barton dry sass locked and loaded.

"This bear has been officially rejected. Denied. Cast aside like a rejected S.H.I.E.L.D. clearance form from the others."

Clint then holds the bear out toward you like it's a relic of ancient wisdom.

"Now with being said- do you need the bear?"

His voice is soft now, low and warm like embers, dead serious in the most ludicrous way. He's not mocking you. He's offering comfort. The Clint Barton kind Rough around the edges, but honest. Like a hug in the form of dad sarcasm and a plush hostage.