Epilogue

Clint's floor had become Loki's floor, and Bruce's floor had become Bruce and Clint's floor, and Loki was teaching Tony about magic, and Tony was teaching Loki about tech, and Clint was teaching Loki archery, although just for fun, because Loki's primary weapon of choice was always going to be magic. And he fought to protect his new family viciously.

It was difficult, of course - Loki was certainly not accustomed to admitting to not knowing things, or that he might be wrong, and there were some memorable arguments. But the most heated of these were between Loki and Tony, on subjects only Bruce had the faintest hope of following.

One day, they were arguing over a post-battle feast, and Steve had no idea what it was about, but he stood ready to pull them apart if necessary. When they suddenly launched at each other, though, Bruce held Steve back, because the surface conversation hadn't been the only one he'd been following, and he was therefore unsurprised when the violence unfolding before them involved rather more tongue than Steve was expecting.

Clint just rolled his eyes at Bruce, in a sort of 'Well they grew up way too fast' sentiment, and Bruce laughed.

Things weren't really any easier at all, after that. In fact, Tony and Loki argued more, and often when they got very into it, Natasha would tell them to get a room. Bruce thought they were probably both processing a lot of dissonance, not just between their two sets of memories, but between who they had been taught to be and who they wanted to be. And he supposed it helped to have someone to argue with, someone they trusted not to leave, because they could see that the other enjoyed the arguments as much as they did.

Regardless of the immaturity that was still very much present in the tower, it wasn't the same now that they were re-aged, and Bruce tried to push the whole question out of his mind again. But Clint was having none of that.

"I know you miss the whole thing," he whispered in Bruce's ear as they lay tangled up together on the huge soft couch, when the movie they were watching had ended. "Putting kids to bed. Helping them get through hard stuff. Being the family they need."

"They're still family," Bruce said. "I have more than I could have imagined a couple of years ago."

"Not the point," Clint said, shaking his head so that his nose ran up and down Bruce's neck. "You're good at that. You could help other kids." He snugged Bruce just a little bit tighter in his arms. "We could sign up to make this a foster home."

Bruce considered for a moment, then sighed. "Right. We don't have any long term experience with kids. We haven't been together very long. The whole superhero thing isn't really conducive to the stable environment aspect. And then of course there's the obvious point - who in their right mind would give a kid to the Hulk?"

"Very smart people," Clint answered immediately. "And the rest of that is just stuff they take into account. We've got a great support system, all Stark's resources behind us if we need them. And we can get some fabulous letters of recommendation, I bet."

Bruce laughed. "If it's Tony, we'd better hurry before it gets out that he's dating the Norse god of mischief and lies," he said.

"I was thinking more along the lines of Steve, maybe Pepper," said Clint, laughing a bit as well. "But mainly, they'd have to be blind not to see that you're meant for this. Hulk or not, you're incredible with kids. That's all that should matter."

Bruce smiled, slow and content. "You're pretty incredible yourself," he murmured, leaning into Clint. "You really want to do this?"

"Definitely," said Clint. "Those three days were hard, but they were good. I want that again."

"Okay," said Bruce softly, pressing a kiss to Clint's ear. "Let's try."