Chapter 13 ━━ Rogers: The Musical, Bro

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The music is blaring through the speakers as a bunch of actors cosplaying as the Avengers and performing the Broadway show on the stage.

Out of all the places in New York, Clint decided to take the kids and Heather to see 'Rogers: the Musical.'

At first, Heather frowned with disappointment, but then again, he decides to take a little fun out of it.

Heather smirks at the blonde, probably in his age, sitting a few seats away from him. When the girl meets his gaze, he flashes his boyish lopsided grin at her.

He then glances over at Clint, who is staring at the stage, in his own thoughts. He leans over to Clint's side and whispers. "Clinty?"

No response.

"Big Bro?" Heather waves his hand in front of Clint's face, causing him to jump out of his thought bubble and turn on his hearing aid. "Dude, did you turn your hearing aid off?"

"No, I know what happens. I was there. You know who wasn't there? Is that guy. Ant-Man." Clint points at the actor playing Ant-Man.

At the same time, the actress playing Natasha performs a cartwheel and lands on Black Widow's trademark fighting pose.

"She didn't even do the fighting pose right." Heather comments, his eyes lingering at the redhead actress.

Clint turns his full attention to his brother with a raised eyebrow. "How do you know about that?"

"I don't know. There's something in my head about Nat's fighting pose and it isn't much clear. It's like some blurry images and distorted talking." Heather shrugs but pauses to look at Clint again, when realisation clicks in his head. "Wait. Am I not supposed to not know about it?"

Clint sighs somewhat in relief and shakes his head slightly. "No, I just wanted to know if you're getting your memories back."

"I don't want that shit back. Everytime I try to recall my past, I'm experiencing this very odd feeling like-like someone's squeezing my brain out. It fucking hurts. I'm so done with it." Heather says, leaning back into his seat.

"Moving on, look at that chick. Nat got a pretty curvy ass than her." Heather gestures at the actress playing Natasha and looks back at Clint to see him shooting a dead glare. He raises his hands in the air in defence immediately. "Bad joke. I get it. I'm sorry. Just wanted to lighten your mood. I know everyone misses her, but... she was your best friend. I'd probably be the same if I was in your position. Though, I will still manage to somewhat look a little bit better looking than you."

Clint smiles at him, shaking his head once again. "Thanks, man."

"You're welcome." Heather sings and turns to peek back at the previous blonde, only to find her looking back at him already. He shoots his lopsided grin again, ruffles his hair and winks at her.

Her cheeks turn red as a freshly bloomed rose as she turns her eyes back on the stage. She bites her lips to avoid showing off her smile.

Heather grins with satisfaction. The reaction he earns from her is way better than what he expected.

"Are you flirting with that girl over there?" Clint asks.

Heather rolls his eyes and looks back at his brother. "Does that back of your head look like a huge penis?"

Clint stares at him blankly without even attempting to give a reply.

Heather sighs. "The answer is yes! And I'm not gonna just flirt tonight."

"You love to whore around. Don't you? You slept with all my neighbours and you're here to do the same."

"I only slept with blondes. Do you even know why I love blondes? Scratch it. I don't even know why I love blondes." Heather states, moving his hands in the air to prove his point. "And for the information, I'm not here to sleep around, I'm here to explore new things of the city. That blonde over there, happens to be a part of it."

"Believe it or not, Clinton. Some girls don't need my persuasion. Some girls just can't resist my good looks, my style and my charm and my own flinching ability to listen to Taylor Swift." Heather informs, shifting on his seat. He wonders when they're giving an end to the stupid musical. "I feel terribly sorry for you though. Look at all those wrinkles on your face. You're too old for these things. It's okay, man. You got a great wife, you got your sweet kids. Let's not think about how crappy you feel right now. It's for the best."

"Did I mention you I can't stand the sound of your voice?" Clint asks him.

"Too bad." He replies with a smirk and darts his blue eyes through the crowd to the blonde. This time, she mouths him 'washroom' before leaving her seat.

"That's my cue. I have a date in the washroom. Sweaty palms. Wish me luck." With excitement, Heather rises and heads towards the washroom for his date. He finds her standing in the male washroom waiting for him. A little of him fascinated her confidence to walk into a male washroom alone, even though it is deserted.

"Hey there." He proclaims her channelling of his elegance through his blue eyes, looking into her deep soul. A charm he picked up from the Disney movie he watched with Lila.

"Hey!" She squeaks nervously, obviously melting then and there. "You took forever."

"Traffic police slowed me down." He replies sarcastically as he stands in front of her. His eyes trails down her dress. "Let's not talk about how much you look good in that little dress or my hands might misbehave before I process what's going on in my head."

The blonde giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I think you should stop with the flirty little comments and that eye thing you do, you damned fuckboi."

"What eye thing?" He asks with one eyebrow raised, closed mouthed half-grin and slightly shut eyes. The blonde shakes her head with a smile in return and connects their lips. Before Heather kisses back, the door bursts open and the two jump at the sudden movement of air, their heads snapping at the direction of the door.

Clint turns up in a hustle and his eyes flickers across the washroom to stop at the two. Mostly at Heather. "Oh there you're. It's your anniversary night, dude. Your eight months pregnant wife asked me to bring you home. She has planned something special."

"Your wife is pregnant and you thought it is a wise choice to cheat on the poor lady on your anniversary? Be shameful of your actions, you jerk!" She yells at Heather and slaps across his face before rushing out, bumping into his shoulder on the way.

In shock, Heather holds his red cheek, not moving from his spot. The slap doesn't give him an itch because of his super soldier strength, but mentally, his pride is now laying on the dirt under his foot. He slightly glares at his brother. "Was that necessary?"

"No. But it was fun. You should've seen your face. It was priceless." He beams, amused.

"Ha ha. Priceless my ass." Heather sarcastically says, not forgetting to roll his eyes in the process. "Let's go and see my eight months pregnant wife before I throw you out of that window."

Clint laughs and nudges the raven headed playfully. "Come on, I feel like you should know me by now."

"Whatever, you old narcissistic backstabbing wanker." Heather mumbles with a fake irritable expression on his face, fighting the twitch on his lips.

The two Barton brothers exit the theatre, engaging in a small conversation. It's cold outside with the light snowfall. But it's bearable.

"This whole musical thing is a bit ridiculous, isn't it?" Heather asks, burying his hands deep inside his jacket pockets.

Clint nods in approval. "A lot ridiculous."

"The Hulk part was great."

Clint lets out a chuckle, eyeing at the layer of snow on the pavement. "Yeah, as if you watched it anyway."

"True." Heather shrugs with a laugh. "It was boring as hell."

"Hey, Dad. Hey, Uncle B!" Nathaniel jogs out of the theatre with Cooper and Lila following behind in no time.

"Hey, guys! What's up? What are you doing here?" Clint asks, reaching down to his five year old son with a smile.

"Why is everyone singing and dancing about everything?" Nathaniel queries.

"I don't know." Clint laughs, shaking his head. "But it's Christmas in New York. And we're out of here. Right?"

Heather stares up at the night sky to find a carpet of stars blinking one after the other. He takes a deep breath of New York air and releases when he feels a tug on his jacket. He looks down to see little Nathaniel gazing at him with expectancy. His eyes glistening with excitement.

"Piggyback?"

"Come on, bud." Heather nods with a smile, bends down with his back to the kid and his head looking at the little lad over his shoulder.

With an enthusiastic cheer, Nathaniel jumps onto his back and wraps his little arms around Heather's neck. Heather holds onto the little boy's legs making sure he wouldn't drop as they walk through the path with others.