Chapter Text
Natasha settled down in the ratty, old one-seater lounge chair. It was probably the nicest piece of furniture they had in their home, a left-over product from when the previous owners left.
Crossing her legs, she easily settled Bruce in her lap. He pressed back into her stomach, fingers of his right hand being sucked on while he excitedly pulled at the faded green material of his onesie-clad foot, fitting perfectly in the cove her crossed legs formed. He loved it when they placed him in spots like that, always liking areas he felt he was protected from the outside world.
He gurgled with joy when Natasha balanced a book on her crossed ankles.
She smiled softly down at him, running her fingers through his unbrushed hair. ‘You feel a lot better after your nap, don’t you, malysh?’
Bruce leaned his head all the way back to smile up at her, fingers never once leaving his mouth. He could have simply turned to the side, but instead, opted to bend backwards to look at her upside down.
All worries were melted by the warm produced by the baby. She wrapped her right arm firmly around him, holding him in a permanent hug, while kissing the tip of his nose, which screwed up as his smile grew wider.
‘Yes, you’re cute,’ she cooed, unable to stop the voice she put on for the toddler because he had the talent of bringing that out in the whole group. ‘Yes, you are, the absolute cutest.’
Bruce blushed and hid his face in her stomach. However, he hopefully peeked back at the book, but wouldn’t indicate towards it to show what he wanted.
It was one of the few left in the apartment. There had been a dictionary, a cookbook Clint liked to read when he was hungry, saying the pictures helped him feel more full, a Bible Thor burned to make a fire within the first few days of discovering the place and a couple of others. This one Natasha held was a novel called Hold My Hand, about a sister and brother who were on a journey to find their real parents. She had read it a lot and it had helped with her grasp of English greatly.
When Tony and Bruce first came along, Bruce spotted her reading it and looked so longingly at the novel, she simply started reading it aloud because she knew he would have fled if she would have suggested she read to him. So, instead, he settled down in a corner and listened to her for a full hour.
It became a daily thing. She would sit on the seat and read, while Bruce would sit away, listening intently to every word she said. Until, gradually, each day, the toddler moved closer and closer until he was just next to the couch.
Taking a chance, she had reached down and gently lifted him on to her lap, making sure her grip was loose so he could escape if he wanted to. The poor child had stiffened and even burst into tears, worried he finally crossed some sort of line.
Natasha remembered swallowing down against the emotion which made her want to go use her talents and hurt some select people, and continued to read, voice shakier than she could ever remember it being.
After a good twenty minutes, Bruce’s cries dimmed to sniffles. He kept peeking up at her, shoulders hunched, waiting for it all to come crashing down on him, but when she just kept on reading, he began to listen to the words, for a brief moment, forgetting about his fears. When he realised he was relaxing, the poor baby had begun to cry again, not understanding what was happening and why he wasn’t being punished.
They had come a long way since then. Bruce even once brought the book over to her, the only time he outright requested for her to read to him. Overall, they had probably read the novel five times, but Bruce never got sick of it, which was why Natasha opted to sit down with him today and start it all over again.
There was a bit of an ulterior motive as well. After one month since the water park incident, Bruce was yet to talk so she hoped getting him into a position he was most relaxed, he may actually say a word. She tried not to let it hurt her that Bruce could still get so scared so he reverted to non-verbal. It was nothing personal, but she was desperate to hear that husky little voice again, for him to feel overall safe enough to just speak. And that was the crux of it. Speaking made Bruce feel unsteady, a bit broken open, so when he was terrified, the only way he knew how to protect himself was to not talk. It showed how unsettled he still was after everything because it was like even when he appeared content, he couldn’t bring himself to open up again, afraid … just afraid.
Natasha was determined to make him feel absolutely safe again, even just for a moment, for him to talk. She couldn’t just tell him that either because if attention was brought to the fact, it made Bruce even more self-conscious, clamming up even further, though some tears would escape, thinking they were telling him he was doing something wrong or was simply odd.
Bracing herself against those thoughts, she gave Bruce’s tummy a pat, which was accentuated by the onesie, one the reasons she loved him in the outfit.
‘You ready, malysh? Ready for a story?’ God, she couldn’t believe how goo-goo her voice went when talking to Bruce.
It wasn’t stopping anytime soon because Bruce loved it, giggling up at her, patting enthusiastically at her hand splayed across his tummy.
Natasha laughed and cuddled him close, turning a few pages until they were at the beginning. ‘Okay, lapushka, here we go,’ pausing, she cleared her throat in exaggeration, gaining more throaty chuckles. Hiding her own proud smile, she began reading from the story, ‘Sandy leaned her head back while she swung high on the swing. It was the only way to swing really. That way, the world glittered around her, sunshine glinting off every surface, as opposed to staring at the ground, where a monotonous, ugly brown would stare back at her, never-ending and dreary …’
She allowed her words to rise and fall, not too loud, not too soft, as she read to her baby.
Bruce responded appropriately to her tones, humming in sympathy when she made her voice go sad for a moment, but would squeal when she spoke with enthusiasm, absently playing with his left foot, just like a baby did. It was something he only did when he was totally at ease, which made Natasha feel warm, a sensation she didn’t really get to know too well until Clint, Thor and Steve came into her life. The warmth brought by Tony and Bruce was different though. To see Bruce completely content just … overwhelmed her, but with good feelings, a myriad of sensations she couldn’t describe or name, but simply welled up within her, beautiful but could make her cry as well.
The mood was serene and she relished in the moment like when you sank into a hot bath after being chilled to the point you felt like your bones were cold.
‘Naataaasha!’ A voice sang out from the hallway.
She paused, a fond smile springing to her lips as she glanced over in that direction, Bruce perking up and looking too, making happy noises as soon as the voice made itself heard.
‘What are you up to, nakhal'nyy mal'chik?’
Tony was peeking around the corner, high cheekbones making his smile absolutely blinding.
‘Thor said him and I are going to do gymnastics because I ate all my vegetables.’ The little boy was bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was about to explode from excitement.
Natasha narrowed her eyes and stared further down the hallway. ‘Is that so?’ she called out.
Thor’s sonorous voice immediately replied, causing Tony to glance curiously over his shoulder.
‘Yes, an extremely safe and supervised gymnastics.’
‘One Steve would approve of?’ Natasha sent a reassuring smile down at Bruce, who was starting to suck on his fingers anxiously at the loud voice, and she began a gentle rhythm of patting his tummy. It helped assuage the stiffness from his person straight away.
There was a distinct pause then before Thor finally talked. ‘Rather unreasonable, don’t you think? Is there one he would approve of?’
Tony pointed down the hallway, snapping his fingers, and nodded emphatically, looking intensely over at Natasha. ‘The man has a very good point.’
Laughter burst out of Natasha’s lips despite trying to hold them together, shaking her head in amusement. ‘Just be careful,’ she said, addressing both Tony and Thor. She resisted adding that if there was a bruise found on Tony, she would take it out of the tallest teenager’s skin because Bruce still couldn’t understand jokes like that.
‘Of course,’ Thor called back, sounding thoroughly offended, while Tony nodded so enthusiastically that it was a wonder he didn’t have whiplash from the movement.
‘Very careful,’ he proclaimed, determined to put her mind at rest in case she decided to try to put a stop to the activities he was obviously stoked about.
‘Thank you, Tony,’ she tried to say blandly but was unable to be amused by the little fast talker. He would make the perfect businessman, drawing anyone in with that captivating twinkle in his eye. A person just wanted to believe him.
Tony grinned back at her, loving it when he made one of them laugh. However, he lingered at the hallway, an air of unsureness entering his stance as he scuffed his heel along the floor.
Before Natasha encouraged him to speak his mind, she was pleasantly surprised when he took it upon himself to.
‘Um … do you … do you need any help with baby?’ He asked, fingers beginning to snap, crack and clap at a bit of a faster rate.
Usually, when Tony wanted to ‘help’, it often slowed down the process of whatever they needed to do to Bruce. However, in the past month, Tony had been a God-send with the toddler, who was in general, unsettled, and it took so little to set him off, crying very easily. However, Tony had been wonderful, entertaining and comforting the baby like the best big brother in the world, getting smiles out of him even when Bruce needed his hair washed, an activity which never failed to bring tears.
Even all of today, Bruce had been fussy, but he went down for an early nap at around 1 o’clock and was in an exceptionally good mood. He was a lot softer lately and Thor or Clint couldn’t rough-house around him. The environment had to be as peaceful and quiet around him as possible, which was why sitting down with a book was the best thing for him.
Natasha’s smile was full and open as she regarded the little boy just at the entrance of the hallway.
‘Baby is doing very well after his nap, solnyshko.’ She brushed a demonstrative hand over the head of curls, seeing the blush on Bruce’s cheeks at being talked about. ‘You can go play for now.’
Tony nodded, but she could see the slight disappointment when he turned to leave.
‘Actually,’ she called out quickly. ‘It would be a big help if you could get his cup for me. He’s all comfy and I don’t want to move him.’
The skin around Tony’s eyes crinkled as he smiled that hard, all sadness evaporated, as it always should be.
‘Yeah, I can do that!’ he exclaimed, racing over to the cupboard and grabbing Bruce’s sippy cup off it.
‘Such a good brother,’ Natasha said softly, hoping she kept the melancholy out of her voice at Tony’s need to prove how good a big brother he was. For a while there, the poor little boy wouldn’t play, just sitting vigilantly by his bubba in case he was needed at any moment. It had gotten better, but little worries were still lingering, as shown by Tony checking up on them before he launched into a game.
At Natasha’s praise, Tony’s smile became shy, but so much more pleased as he stood on his tip-toes to fill Bruce’s cup with water from the tap at the sink in their self-proclaimed kitchen as they were out of milk.
Most food was depleted, making Clint and Steve go out on a food run. She was trying not to think too hard on that so as not to become paralysed with worry at their safety. Instead, the fears were being pushed to the back of her mind as strongly as she possibly could and instead, she was focusing on just being in the here and now with the kids.
Using so much scrutiny to make sure the lid was put on the cup like it was the most important job in the world, eyes becoming intense with concentration, Tony then walked to the seat Natasha and Bruce occupied, holding the cup out reverently in front of him.
‘Here you go, Bubba.’ Tony presented the item to him with such flourish. It was a trait that had been missing for a while, the child being a little quieter and hesitant around them as he tested out the new waters Steve had broken open for him, but now, he was getting his old enthusiasm back again.
Bruce reddened even more at the sight of the sippy cup. He hadn’t needed it before, but he’d been so shaky lately. He hadn’t been able to drink anything without spilling it all over himself so Clint lifted the item from a chemist. The toddler was embarrassed for sure, but Natasha saw how much he relaxed when he had it, not having to worry about spilling anything, which sent him into an upset, obviously bringing back bad memories from when he had done it before. While it was like he knew they wouldn’t punish him for it, he just couldn’t get those images out of his head lately.
‘Come on, baby,’ Tony encouraged, ‘you have to have some water, it’s good for you!’
That was another thing. Bruce had turned off food and liquids a bit. He was slowly getting his appetite back, but that was the other good thing about the sippy cup. He could just carry it around with him and sip on it absently, which was making sure he at least got some nutrients.
At his big brother’s words, Bruce hunched over shyly, but reached out to take his special cup. As soon as it was in his hand, he shoved the spout in his mouth, not drinking it, but absently chewing on it.
Seriously, this kid and having things in his mouth.
Natasha pressed her lips on the curls to hide her fond amusement so Bruce wouldn’t see it and take it the wrong way, thinking she was laughing at him, not just feeling pure joy at the overwhelming love she had for her darling malysh.
Tony grinned up at Natasha, who peered down, just her eyes showing, glinting with affection. The black-haired boy read her emotions and he rocked from side to side as he glanced back at his little brother, hands clasped in front of him.
‘He’s so cute, huh, Natasha?’ he said, going all gooey over his little brother. He was such a little mother hen sometimes with Bruce and the two of them combined where going to make Natasha literally melt one of these days at their combined adorableness.
The baby whined at the attention, burying his burning face in Natasha’s shirt. However, he still allowed enough room for him to still bite on the spout of his cup.
Natasha ran light fingers along the bottom of his foot, which gained an adorable squeak and leg kick, causing Tony to openly ‘Aw’, at the toddler unintentionally making a cute scene of himself.
‘He is,’ Natasha agreed with a smile before reaching over and tickling under Tony’s chin. ‘Very much like another little boy I know.’
‘Natasha,’ Tony immediately whined, jumping back and rubbing under his chin vigorously to try to erase the tingly feelings her fingers left behind. ‘I’m handsome not cute.’
The girl conceded with a chuckle, so much deeper than most girls. ‘Fine, fine, you win.’
Tony lifted his chin, eyes becoming scrutinising, and Natasha stared back, masking her face perfectly of any humouring. It satisfied the child as he gave a nod and firm ‘Good’, before beginning to walk away.
Bruce peeked out from his hiding spot and as soon as he saw Tony heading towards the hallway, he sat up ram-rod straight.
‘Uh!’ He cried, sippy cup dropping on to his lap, as he reached out desperately for his big brother.
Tony glanced back at the sound and when he saw Bruce, his face didn’t break into the exuberant joy he usually had. Instead, this time, his expression morphed into the softest look, eyes twinkling beautifully, lips quirking into the gentlest smile. At that moment, he looked a lot older than the seven-year-old he was.
‘Sorry, Bubba,’ he said, racing back, and grabbed Bruce’s tiny hands in his own small ones. ‘I forgot to say goodbye! Silly Tony.’
Natasha bit back her coo at Tony copying the way Steve talked to the two of them.
Bruce preened under his big brother’s attention, making happy noises, little nose wrinkling up as he listened to every word Tony said with complete adoration.
Smiling lovingly back, chest pumping out at Bruce’s obvious love for him, Tony leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Bruce’s pudgy lips, making Bruce give a happy laugh, bouncing a little as he grinned up at Tony.
While Bruce’s sensitiveness had been terrible to see, for Tony, it increased his confidence as a big brother to such a level that he was no longer asking if it was all right to interact with Bruce, as he was for the first few days after the incident. The love Bruce had for Tony couldn’t be ignored even by the child who possessed such self-confidence issues. For Tony, if Bruce thought he was good enough, that was enough and it was a weight off of Natasha’s shoulders, as she was sure it was for the rest, to see the thought of Tony being a bad older brother wasn’t sticking in the little boy’s mind.
‘Good boy, Bubba,’ Tony smiled softly. He grabbed the sippy cup and gently slipped it into the baby’s mouth, who reluctantly accepted, unable to deny anything his big brother decided was for the best. ‘You can have your drink now and I’m going to play with Thor. You just call though and I’ll come back. Okay?’
Natasha grabbed the bottom of the cup so she could trade hands with Tony, gaining a grateful smile.
Murmuring, ‘Okay,’ as though cementing the plan, Tony pressed another kiss to Bruce’s cheek before heading towards the hallway, a definite skip in his step as he left the room.
Bruce whined softly around the spout, but other than that, didn’t fuss at his older brother’s disappearance.
‘Such a good malysh,’ Natasha praised, gently pushing him back so he could rest against her again.
He stiffened momentarily, but then allowed her to do it and even when she brought the cup higher, he tipped his head back, allowing her to give him the water.
‘Clever malysh,’ she whispered, slowly using her other hand to prop the book up again so she could read from it.
The atmosphere was even more relaxed than before, Bruce listening to the story with half-lidded eyes, absolutely limp in her lap. Though he did perk up when there was a bang from the bedroom. Natasha inwardly cringe then relaxed when Bruce didn’t react badly, but just peered up at her in concern, honeyed brown eyes huge from behind the sippy cup.
Biting her lip to keep from openly cooing at the vision, she cocked her head to the side as she called out. ‘Everything all right in there?’
‘Yep!’ was Tony’s instant, enthusiastic reply.
‘The cot may have suffered an injurious blow though,’ Thor replied.
Rolling her eyes to the roof, she glanced down to see Bruce had lost interest in the conversation as soon as he heard Tony’s voice. Instead, he was sitting up again, staring intently at a section of the novel, leaving behind the sippy cup she still had poised in her hand for him to drink.
‘What’s so interesting, lapushka?’ She asked softly so as not to startle him.
Bruce glanced back at her, an intensity in his eyes he got when he was really in deep thought, showing his intelligence most people would bypass because of the way he regressed.
He tapped at a word on the page, looking from it to back at her expectantly.
She peered down where his finger was pointing.
‘Sister?’ When Bruce tapped again, she saw he was pointing to two words. ‘Big sister?’
At Bruce’s nod and proud smile, which served to amuse her to no end that a toddler was proud of her for understanding, she raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘What about it, lapushka?’
Bruce bit his lip, obviously thinking how to communicate what he wanted to. He turned back to the novel and, with grievous care, turned a few pages to the left, making sure not to even crinkle the parchment. Eyes scouring the black ink, he tapped at another word.
She peered around him, no longer surprised at how he could read. He could at three and his reading had just improved out of sight the more she read to him where he would often mouth along to the words, imprinting what writing made what sound. The child was a little genius.
‘Mother?’ When Bruce made an unsure grimace, indicating he was sorry, but it wasn’t quite right (the child had such an expressive face, able to say so much with so many different sets of frowns and smiles), her chest felt icy. ‘Mama?’ she asked softly.
Bruce smiled up at her, squirming a little, a bit shy and unsure at asking things, but the questions were burning too much for him to stop. He turned in her lap and sat up on his knees, tapping in the middle of her chest.
She knew he wasn’t indicating to her per se. The movements were too persistent, asking for something deeper. When his fingers brushed against his lips then tapped at her again, more urgently, but no less gentle, she got it.
‘How would I say it in my language?’
The toddler squeaked, falling back on his backside, as he clapped happily. Curls fell into his face as he craned his neck back up like he was staring up at the top of a skyscraper.
Bruce had always shown such an interest in her language and it strangely meant a lot to her. A part of her wasn’t being forgotten, but meant so much to the beautiful toddler for some reason. He was also freakishly good at it, pronouncing the words fairly well but remembering them outstandingly.
But, for her though, it was like she was passing on a piece of herself, preserving it so it would never die, and to someone who held it close to his heart. For her, it was a special connection she was given with Bruce through this and she felt another wave of love for the baby in her lap, removing the ice from within her when he talked about the word mama.
She playfully tapped the tip of his nose, holding back a chuckle at how his eyes crossed slightly to track the movement then shook his head, sending his curls everywhere to try to straighten his vision, staring up at her as though asking, ‘How do you do that?’
‘Well,’ she ran her tongue over the word, straightening out her voice from any laughter before she pushed on. ‘You say big sister like this.’ She leaned down a bit so Bruce could study her mouth because it helped him with the pronunciation. ‘Bol'shaya Sestra. You see? Bol’shaya Sestra.’
Bruce peered intently at her lips. His own parted and her heart leaped as she swore he was about to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, she could see the wheels turning in his head as she spoke, cementing the words into his mind. She didn’t let her upset show though and pushed on brightly.
‘And Mama is simply Mama,’ she finished with a grin. ‘Though just lather on the accent and people will think it’s somehow different.’
Bruce giggled at her, getting her dry joke. Yes, Clint, she could make jokes. Just because he didn’t get them didn’t mean she wasn’t funny. Bruce got them and they made him smile so that made her hysterical, so there.
The smile faded though as his expressive face became reserved, deep in thought, and he tapped his lips with an index finger, slipping it in to momentarily give it a thoughtful chew.
Hiding her amusement, she sat quietly, letting him sort out what he needed to ask.
A grateful flicker of his eyes to her own indicated he noticed her letting him think and was thanking her for it before going back to deep thinking again. Then, he lit up as he knew how to say what he wanted, clapping his hands together with purpose, slowly and deliberately.
It showed how much she had improved in Bruce’s language that she got what he was saying by the third time he did it. ‘What’s sort of like a combination between the two?’
Bruce outright squealed, patting her leg enthusiastically in congratulations.
Natasha ruffled his hair, lips in a permanent state of being turned upwards, lines around her mouth filled with love and affection. ‘Thank you, malysh,’ she murmured gently, keeping her hand on his head as he peered up at her happily. She paused for a few moments, running her old language through her head. ‘Well …’ she said slowly, thinking his question through. She was never one to just bypass whatever it was the kids asked. If it was important to their little minds, it was important, irrelevant if she could understand why or not. So, she took her time and thought it through thoroughly before answering, which by the touched look on Bruce’s face, he realised as well. ‘I think it would probably be sestrichka.’
It wasn’t insanely accurate, but it was the closest she could come up with. It was a very affectionate term for a sister, so it would be only said to a wonderful sibling. She figured that was kind of a close term for a motherly older sister, who took care of you.
At Bruce stretching up a bit to better see her lips, she leaned down again so he could see.
‘Sestrichka,’ she repeated, watching as his mouth opened, but once again, nothing came out. His little lips were so adorably pudgy while his expression was just so serious, which was the cutest when the toddler was taking something so critically that she couldn’t resist leaning forward and stealing a quick kiss. ‘Mwah.’
Bruce’s mouth dropped open in shock at the stolen kiss, hands coming up to his mouth, eyes huge, before he burst into giggles, which grew when she tickled his slightly protruding tummy.
‘I love you,’ she said softly, because she thought sometimes she mightn’t say directly enough, but instead, through all these gestures that maybe weren’t being read properly.
Bruce simply stood up on wobbly legs and threw his arms around her neck.
It was okay if he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t have to. It was all said in just that there and that was enough for Natasha as she cradled him close. She murmured words to him in Russian, which made him hum in contentment, head tucked up underneath her chin as he sucked lazily on his fingers.
***
‘I think I’d take a really good mug shot.’
Steve tossed a withering glare over his shoulder as he walked down the familiar old alleyway to the fire escape. ‘That isn’t funny on one, single level.’
Clint waved that day’s newspaper in his face, making the image of himself fuzz on the front. ‘Look at this picture and see if you think I’m joking.’
‘Get that out of my face otherwise it’s going in the bin.’
‘You have no taste for the aesthetic.’
‘Thor’s new word of the week?’
The guy had an obsession with reading the dictionary at the home and liked to introduce a new word into his vocabulary every week or two.
The brown-haired boy smiled widely. ‘Yep!’
Steve rolled his eyes, feeling a small smile coming on to his face, his weary mood fading the more Clint goofed around.
Which was obviously his little brother’s plan.
It had been a month since the incident at the water park and it hadn’t been one of the easiest ones they had out on the streets by far.
The nightmares had come, as Steve knew they would. Bruce woke that very afternoon, sweating and screaming for a full half hour before they could get him to calm down. That had woken Tony up, who proceeded to cry quietly the whole time Bruce was upset.
The only thing which finally succeeded in calming them was getting Tony to hold Bruce, which soothed the toddler immediately while Tony swelled with pride upon seeing it.
Steve had been so concentrated on those two that he hadn’t even taken into consideration nightmares for the others. It took three nights, but shockingly, it was Natasha who woke in a fit, punching and kicking wildly in her sleep, scaring Tony and Bruce to the point Thor and Steve had to take them out of the room, leaving Clint to calm her down. After an hour, she came out, eyes red and hair askew. Fear was written all over her face when she saw the little ones, obviously scared they would hold it against her for waking up like she did. However, upon seeing her, Bruce raced over and threw himself against her legs, hugging her fiercely. He still wouldn’t talk, but the message was received loud and clear, Natasha slumping to her knees, expression soft with relief as she took the baby into her arms.
Unfortunately, the nightmares weren’t all founded on unrealistic fears. Steve crept out a few days later for food to see Clint and Natasha’s pictures plastered all over newspapers. Slightly fuzzed images, but clear enough as far as he was concerned, as they disappeared into the panicking crowds that day, saying they were wanted for questioning over an incident where a man known as Thaddeus Ross was assaulted
The picture of him standing proudly in a General’s uniform confirmed him as the man in the park that day. And as Steve stood next to a garbage bin, frantically reading the news article as soon as he saw the picture of Clint and Natasha, his face paled and he had to dash around the back of a little bodega to throw up in privacy.
Ross was identified as the fiancé of Susan Banner. He remembered as strong as yesterday Tony saying he had taken Bruce away from his Aunt Susan. Which meant this man … this man who had went to backhand a child’s face after scaring him and accusing him of being a horrible human being … had access to Bruce. Which was why … why Bruce still wasn’t talking. And how he knew before all of them that Ross was going in to strike Tony.
He came home that day just that little bit more broken. Even though Bruce had been napping, he took the baby into his arms and curled into the corner with him. Clint, Natasha and Thor knew not to bother him and let him do what he needed.
Tony had peeked around the curtain of his cordoned off area, uncharacteristically standing shyly away to see if he wanted to be left alone. Only when Steve opened out his spare arm did Tony come forward, diving into his side and simply staying with him.
‘You knew about Ross, didn’t you?’ Steve whispered after a while. ‘That’s why you took baby, wasn’t it?’
Tony didn’t ask him to clarify; he simply nodded, looking too solemn for a child his age.
Bruce waking up broke the mood, crankily whining at simply coming up from his nap. Soon though, he was all smiles as Tony leaned on Steve’s thigh and made silly faces at the baby tucked into the crook of Steve’s left arm.
Steve wanted to cry, but he had to laugh because Bruce needed to hear those sounds. He’d heard enough of tears and screams to last him several lifetimes.
For the rest of the day, he kept the toddler as close to him as possible, causing Bruce to glance at him in concern sometimes. However, he would break out into the shyest grin when Steve would kiss the tip of his nose. Bruce loved it when any of them did that.
It was decided from that point Natasha and Clint had to stay out of the spotlight for a while. After two solid weeks though, they were going stir-crazy. So they were now going out at times, but always separately so it would be harder for people to jog their memories of the two, and always as incognito as possible.
To say it was stressful was an understatement, which was why Clint was trying to make some light of it now. It helped a little, but Steve couldn’t really shake the anxiousness coating his body until they were all safe and sound in their little haven.
A happy squeal made all the residual tensions just melt away and the smile that shone on Steve’s face wasn’t forced at all.
‘There’s the cutest baby ever!’ All hardness Clint possessed in the outside world disappeared as he dropped to his knees as he held out his arms to Bruce, who was frantically scrambling off Natasha’s lap to race over to Clint as fast as his little legs could carry him. ‘Yes, that’s it, come to Clint,’ the light brown-haired boy cooed and immediately snatched up the toddler as soon as he got within reach, cuddling him close to his chest.
Bruce gave an indistinguishable happy sound, snuggling up underneath Clint’s chin. He had become very clingy to both Clint and Natasha after what happened, as though still afraid tone day they weren’t going to come walking through the door.
Steve immediately pushed aside the thought before it could really take hold.
‘I just got him settled, Clint,’ Natasha grumbled, but the twinkle in her unique green eyes gave away how she wasn’t too put out. Her scrutinising gaze flickered over the both of them, making Steve’s heart clench at what she and Thor must have been going through here whenever the two of them were out. Steve certainly knew because he stayed in a state of permanent nausea when Thor and Natasha had to go out, never leaving until they came back, and then even some.
After placing a kiss on Bruce’s curls, earning him a gummy smile which warmed his insides from the cold of the people on the outside of their little world, he came over and wrapped the red-headed girl in a huge hug. He normally would have gone to steal Bruce away from Clint before he came over to her so he could get his customary hug and kiss, but lately, whenever either Clint or Natasha returned, Bruce didn’t want to leave them for a good while. Steve or Thor had to always wait now until the toddler was satisfied of the two fifteen-year-olds’ well-being then get their greeting. It was more than slightly heart-breaking.
Natasha muttered something in Russian Steve was pretty sure translated into some sort of insult, but she curled into him, fingers clutching into his shirt tighter than usual, so he held on to her that bit longer to silently give her the comfort she needed.
‘Thor and Tony?’ Steve asked as he pulled back, but kept his right arm around her shoulders and she stayed leaning into his side.
He and Natasha could communicate like this. A couple of words here, a quick gesture there, and they both knew perfectly well what the other one was saying.
‘We have arrived!’ Thor suddenly appeared from the hallway leading to the bedrooms, one arm spread out theatrically, while the other held Tony. The little boy’s arms were spread out wide in a ‘Ta-da!’ gesture, smile huge on his face at the stance he was doing, obviously planned ahead by Thor.
Steve laughed, feeling just that bit warmer upon seeing the two of them, particularly the glowing smile on Tony’s face. ‘So I see.’
Thor grinned back, bouncing Tony in his arms, eliciting giggles. ‘What have you got to tell Steve, my little warrior?’
The child puffed up at the nickname before gesturing his arms out as wide as he could possibly go while his smile grew the tiniest bit shyer as he gazed at Steve, obviously hoping for a certain reaction at what he was about to say.
‘I ate all my vegetables at lunch today!’ He announced, chestnut brown eyes and smile turning painfully hopeful.
Steve took his cue immediately, gasping in elated shock as he gave his hands a clap before leaning on his knees to be more on the child’s level. ‘Did you, baby?’
This time, Tony didn’t protest the nickname at all. Instead, he lit up, like he was absolutely glowing, a special little light.
‘Yep!’ he declared, practically palpitating with pride.
‘He was very excited to tell you,’ Thor added with a fond smile and affectionate bounce of the boy in his arms. It was probably on account of the build-up Thor and Natasha would have provided Tony with, saying all the time how proud Steve would be.
It was something they were putting into place after Tony’s admittance of being seen as a bad kid and feeling so insecure that he readily accepted some stupid stranger telling him terrible things. They were trying to build a sense of pride within himself and show what a good, little boy he was, just with things like eating his vegetables or letting himself be taken for a shower.
Tony was soaking it in like a sponge and was showing more and more of his bright personality. Not to mention affectionate, no longer pushing away their cuddles and kisses (though he would cheekily sometimes make a game of it), but instead, taking it all in. He was gradually seeking it out more, a huge step in trust after seeing Steve gave so much love to him that day, even after trying to convince the oldest of what a bad child he actually was.
‘I am so proud of you, kiddo!’ Steve clapped his hands again before striding forward and scooping Tony out of Thor’s arms, holding him high in the air.
Tony squealed, legs kicking in excitement. ‘Throw me up then catch me, Cap!’
The oldest immediately winced at that, bringing the child firmly and safely into his arms. ‘No, Tony, that’s too dangerous.’
Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Thor does it,’ he pointed out, looking too smug for his own good.
Steve sent a glare over at the other blonde, who shrugged sheepishly. ‘He likes it,’ he protested weakly.
Heaving a sigh, Steve begrudgingly admitted (to himself, never to anyone else) that maybe he was a tad overprotective of the two littlest ones. But just a tad.
Instead of arguing his point, he turned a proud smile on to Tony. ‘Such a good boy, buddy,’ he praised. ‘Kiss for Steve?’
Tony blushed, but his chestnut brown eyes twinkled with happiness as he leaned in and gave a quick kiss before turned redder and looking everywhere but Steve.
Steve ‘Aww-ed’ silently at the adorable child. Tony was the sweetest when he went shy at affection. It was seriously too cute.
‘Hey!’ Clint called out. ‘Where’s my kiss? How come Steve always gets one and I don’t?’
Tony giggled, recognising the game and raised his nose in the air snootily. ‘Because Steve’s aren’t sloppy.’
Clint gasped in over-exaggerated hurt, clutching his chest with his free left arm, causing Bruce to blink innocently in concern. He gave the toddler an exaggerated wink to show he was playing.
Not one to be so easily convinced, the sweet toddler gave Clint a kiss as though to make everything better and patted his cheek in a comforting motion.
‘N’aw, sweetheart,’ Clint melted with helpless fondness, cuddling him close, while Steve was sure he wasn’t the only one cooing at the interaction, ‘what would I do without my darlin’ Bub-Bub to make sure I was okay, hey?’
Bruce grew shy at the fond gaze, ducking his head into the crook of Clint’s shoulder, but making sure he was turned enough so he could suck on his fingers.
Chuckling lovingly at the baby, Clint rocked as he began to walk towards Natasha.
When Tony saw where Clint was heading, he perked up in Steve’s arms.
‘Clint?’
Said teenager cocked his head questioningly over at the child.
Absently, Tony fiddled nervously with the frayed collar of Steve’s shirt as he divulged softly, like a huge secret, ‘Um … I ate all my vegetables today.’
Clint’s eyes became inexplicably warm. ‘Oh, buddy, you did too! I’m so sorry, I forgot to congratulate you!’
He immediately came forward, pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead before quickly stealing a real one, causing Tony to burst into giggles at the teenager’s playful nature.
‘Clint,’ he whined, smile giving away his humour, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘Can’t wipe it off, bud,’ Clint said cheerily. ‘It’s there forever.’
‘Is not!’ Tony immediately scowled, slapping his hands down on Steve’s shoulder in emphasis of his point, making himself squirm, causing Steve to tighten his hold on the wriggling boy.
‘Is too.’
‘Is not!’
‘Is too.’
‘Is not, not, not!’
‘Is—’
‘Stop teasing him, Clint,’ Steve stepped in with a sigh, giving the small boy in his arms a comforting bounce, causing Tony to snuggle into him with a little ‘Mm’ sound. ‘He probably hasn’t even had his nap.’
Clint made a face at Steve, but stopped anyway as Tony’s eyes snapped wide open at the last word.
‘No nap,’ he exclaimed, pushing himself up straight as though to show his wakefulness. ‘I don’t need a nap, I’m a big boy.’
Steve glanced over at Thor for confirmation of this proclamation. Tony was still at the stage where he sometimes needed a sleep in the afternoon, but could sometimes get away without one.
When Thor waved his hand from side to side in a ‘So-so’ motion, he knew Tony was actually in a terrible need of nap. The other blonde hated to rat out the little ones with anything they didn’t like doing so for him to indicate Tony may need a rest showed how badly it was needed.
Tony looked up at Steve with a begging gaze, chin trembling. The rapid mood change showed his tiredness because when he needed a nap, it really didn’t take much to set him off. Simultaneously, Tony was being a bit more liberal with the tantrums because it was like he had to check sometimes if the love he received was going to change. That was only at times though. Mostly, it was because he was tired and now comfortable enough not to hold it all back.
Immediately Steve gave his forehead a kiss to try to soften his words, but Tony simply whined, sensing what was coming.
‘Just a quick one, sweeties,’ he cooed, threading his hand through the silky hair as Tony gave a broken sob at his words, like he was condemning the child to a timeout. It may as well have been with the way the poor little guy was reacting. ‘I know, I know,’ he soothed, ‘it gets so hard when the day gets further on, doesn’t it?’
‘Steve,’ Tony cried, going into a wail when the older one began to rock towards the hallway and he reached out frantically to whoever was nearby, which happened to be Natasha as she hopped up from her chair to try to comfort him a bit.
‘Oh, solnyshko,’ Natasha kissed the little hand, but avoided the boy getting a grip on her, which only increased his distress, which made her give his palm a kiss as well. ‘It will all seem better after a nap.’
Tony shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his face, and reached out again, crying out as Steve moved further towards the hallways, effectively putting Natasha out of reach. He began to pat Steve frantically on the shoulder.
‘No … no,’ he cried. ‘No, Steve, I … I want … I want …’
Steve stopped in his tracks immediately. Poor Tony could never get the words out of what he wanted (or really needed) because he was always too scared of what the reaction would be. Steve was determined for him to be able to finally vocalise what it was he did need.
Giving the shaggy hair a stroke, pulling back the strands sticking to his face from the tears, Steve gave the soft cheek a kiss as he continued to stroke Tony’s hair, rocking the little boy as he continued he weep.
‘Okay, sweeties, deep breaths for me,’ he soothed, giving the boy’s backside two pats. ‘Deep breaths then you tell Steve what you want and he’ll see what he can do.’
Hiccuping with his tears, Tony sniffled into Steve’s embrace, resting his head on the other’s shoulder.
‘There we go,’ Steve murmured, pressing another kiss to the hair. ‘It’s all okay. You think you can tell me what you want, baby?’
Tony whined a little at the name and Steve was more than shocked to see his thumb go into his mouth. The child never sucked his thumb. Once, when he was napping, but when he woke, he had rubbed the digit so vigorously on his shirt, giving a decisive nod like he had officially erased the incident.
And here he was, doing it in front of them all without even trying to hide it. Clint looked worried over the fact, but was trying to hide it while he shushed Bruce, who was full of sympathetic tears for his older brother, crying softening just a fraction when Tony’s did.
Natasha simply looked expectantly at Steve, like he would know exactly what to do while Thor mouthed, ‘It’s actually a good sign.’
At the statement, Steve relaxed, not realising how stiff he had went in fear. Thor made a really good point. It wasn’t that Tony was so upset he was sucking his thumb; it was actually he was comfortable enough to finally do what he sometimes so obviously wanted to.
Keeping up the patting of his backside, he murmured words of comfort until Tony was simply sniffling, thumb still in his mouth while his other arm had come up and was wrapped firmly around Steve’s neck.
That little sign of affection made warmth chase away all the anxieties clinging at skin, just making him feel contented for once.
‘What do you want, my baby?’ He asked softly, swaying gently, Tony completely limp in his arms.
The child whimpered and murmured something as he wiggled slightly.
Steve comfortingly tightened his hold. ‘Come on, kiddo,’ he coaxed. ‘You can tell me anything. I promise.’
Again, Tony stayed quiet for a few moments. Then, he turned and nuzzled his damp face into Steve’s neck.
‘I want to stay with you,’ he choked out through his tears, arm tightening around Steve as he cuddled in as close as he could.
Then and there, Steve knew he was sunk; Tony was going to live the rest of his life sleep deprived because there was no way Steve would ever be able to say no to him from now on.
‘Oh, kiddo,’ he breathed, wrapping Tony up in his arms as tight as he could without hurting him, shoulders slumping helplessly in defeat. ‘Oh, kiddo, of course you can stay with me.’
Natasha raised her eyebrows at him and he knew she was mentally calling him an absolute push-over, yet, if he would have refused, she would have come over and decked him.
‘I think you have a little admirer,’ Thor said fondly. He came over, rubbing a large, gentle hand over Tony’s back, trading smiles with Steve, the oldest knowing his must have been absolutely smitten with the little boy in his arms.
Clint saw it because he made another face at Steve. ‘Stop looking so damn smug,’ he grumbled. His words were softened with a wink before he turned his attentions to Bruce, who still hadn’t stopped crying softly.
Shifting the toddler so he was being cradled, Clint lovingly nuzzled the baby, talking in a low, soothing voice until Bruce was simply murmuring little sounds back of, ‘Uh … uh, ma.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Clint hummed understandingly, nodding along to Bruce’s ‘words’. ‘You don’t like it when big brother gets upset. He’s okay though. Just tired. A bit like you I think, hmm?’
‘He’s had a nap,’ Natasha chipped in, curling back in her seat now everything was settled. ‘I think he’s still a little sleepy though.’
‘You reading to him?’ Clint indicated to the book, nostalgia seeping into his tone as he quirked his head.
Before Natasha could reply, Bruce sat up a bit in his arms and patted his chest. ‘Ah!’ he said, pointing to the book.
The light brown-haired teenager smiled down at him. ‘Yes, book!’ He agreed, gently cleaning the toddler’s face of tears, Bruce placidly allowing him to. ‘Do you want Natasha to read to you again?’
Bruce immediately began anxiously sucking on his fingers and Clint hid a wince as he realised his mistake. The toddler was still a bit iffy on being asked what he wanted so they had to word their sentences not to put him on the spot and make him worry he was requesting something too much, which had obviously been an issue for him in the past.
Luckily, Natasha jumped in. ‘I know I really want to.’
The baby’s elated little gasp had Steve trading another fond, amused smile with Thor.
Clint laughed, giving him a gentle bounce, before handing him over to Natasha, who already had her arms up for him. ‘I think that’s a yes, Nat.’
‘I think so.’ Natasha easily settled Bruce in her lap and he actually went for his sippy cup, happily sucking on it as he leaned back against her, looking so comfy. His left hand came up to intertwine in her flannel shirt, causing Natasha to gently rub the tiny fingers fisted into the material
It was really the perfect idea for sleepy children to get them to drift off without letting them know you were.
‘Mind if we join you?’ Steve asked, patting Tony’s back as he whined. ‘Both of us, sweeties, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.’ Bringing his hand up to cradle Tony’s crown and lean his head on the child’s silky hair, he reiterated. ‘I promise.’
Unlike so many times before, Tony settled, not fighting against the words, but instead, relishing in them as he gave a contented sigh.
‘Not at all.’ Natasha waved him forward then placed a hand on Bruce’s tummy, rubbing comfortingly as he squirmed a little, making him still, as she grabbed the novel off the arm rest.
Finding her place as Steve sat on the other arm rest, leaning against the back, she began to read, velvety tones so tangible and settling after the drama. In his peripheral vision, Clint and Thor snuck off, not wanting to cause any noise to stir Tony up and lose out on a nap he badly needed.
‘Sandy grabbed Thomas’s hand as they ran across the playground together. It wasn’t necessary. They weren’t crossing the road or in a crowd where he could get lost. But she still did it anyway and Thomas loved the sensation. It grounded him to the world around him which was constantly trying to let him go. But Sandy’s hand anchored him, refusing to release him no matter how much the universe tried to rip him from her grasp.’
Bruce watched the pages avidly, giving an absent sip from his special cup now and then, so caught up in a story he had heard so many times. On the other side of the scale, the arm curved around Steve’s neck began to loosen more and more. Until, finally, it slumped to the side and Tony snuffled around his thumb in his sleep, losing the battle even though he had battled valiantly.
After about half an hour, when Bruce showed no signs of nodding off, Natasha finished off a chapter and laid the novel aside, movements so graceful as she then threaded her fingers through Bruce’s curls.
‘How about some milk now, hmm?’ She asked and only then did Steve realise the cup was practically empty.
Bruce made a noise, which indicated he was easy either way, before finally tearing his attention away from the novel, able to be diverted now Natasha had stopped reading. He gazed up, immediately zeroing on his big brother.
Tony was still completely out for the count, thumb now only half in his mouth, eyes shut peacefully, not squinting like he did when caught in the midst of a nightmare. Instead, his whole expression was totally slack, breathing noisily through his mouth. His cheeks were still a little ruddy from his tantrum earlier, but Steve had made sure to wipe his face clean of tears and snot. Even in his sleep, Tony had whined about getting his face cleaned, but luckily, hadn’t woken up, Natasha’s tones and Steve’s rhythmic pats to the backside allowing him to sink back into a deep slumber.
An adoring smile spread across Bruce’s face at seeing his big brother at peace and he made soft cooing noises.
Steve chuckled down at the adorable toddler. ‘Yes, your older brother is napping, baby boy. He was tired, wasn’t he?’
Bruce looked up at Steve from behind his fingers, expression so open and innocent, not attempting to move from his position of laying back on Natasha, not to mention Natasha was still playing with his hair, which was something he enjoyed greatly.
The oldest grinned down at the baby. ‘I’m getting my hug and kiss later too, mind you.’
Shyness immediately overtook the toddler and he squirmed in Natasha’s lap, caused the red-head to rub his tummy, the strong angles of her face, showing off her Russian heritage, soft with fondness as she rested her head to the side on her hand, regarding Bruce with a crooked smile.
For some reason, the action caused Bruce to concentrate intently on Natasha for a moment, craning his head right back to the point it must have hurt his neck a bit.
Natasha looked down at him, shaking her head slightly as she laughed softly, ‘Hi there.’
Blinking thoughtfully, Bruce turned back to Steve, using the hand that was free from his mouth to pat insistently at Natasha’s thigh, giving soft little grunts.
‘Yes, that’s Natasha,’ Steve said, part amusement, part confusion. While it seemed that was what Bruce was indicating, he didn’t think he was quite right.
That assumption proved correct though as Bruce shook his head, a little distressed as he whined.
‘What’s the matter, malysh?’ Natasha asked, frowning with concern. ‘Do you need me to get something for you?’
Again, Bruce shook his head, a little desperate as he tried to sit up, but was too sleep-heavy to do it. Natasha easily reached down, slipping her hands under his armpits, lifting the toddler into a sitting position.
Honeyed brown eyes glanced back, regarding Natasha with such an intensity, to which Natasha quirked her lips back, trying to gather what was in the child’s mind, as Steve knew he was.
However, determination suddenly flooded the intelligent gaze. Turning back to Steve, Bruce pulled his fingers out of his mouth, patted Natasha’s leg again and proclaimed, ‘Sestrichka.’
At first, Steve thought it was some of Bruce’s indistinguishable baby talk. By Natasha’s reaction though, he quickly realised it went so much deeper than that.
Fingers flying up to cover her mouth which was quickly crumbling, she gasped, so soft, trying to make it silent, but after years on the street, Steve could hear it, as well as her trembling breath. She didn’t cry; Natasha hardly ever did, especially around the children, but her eyes glistened, causing her unique green irises to glitter like tiny emeralds.
Just because she didn’t downright shed a tear though didn’t fool Bruce. Within a day of knowing him, Steve knew the observance skills he possessed were uncanny.
The toddler squirmed so he was turned back around and wrapped his little arms as far around Natasha as they would go, leaning his head on her chest, just where her heartbeat was, which was his preferred position with all of them.
‘Shh, sestrichka,’ he murmured. ‘It’s all wight. You should be happy, not sad.’
After not hearing the husky little voice for a full month, the sound immediately brought a lump to Steve’s throat. Managing to detach a limb from Tony and not disturb the boy, he wrapped his arm around Natasha’s trembling shoulders. The girl was helpless to do anything, but keep one shaking hand over her mouth while using the other to clutch Bruce tightly to her, as though afraid he would disappear.
‘She is, Bruce,’ Steve choked out, unable to swallow away the tightness in his chest and heart. He smiled reassuringly through his blurry vision as Bruce looked up at him unsurely. ‘She really is.’
Unlike with most children, that statement didn’t confuse Bruce. He simply nodded in understanding and held Natasha until she could speak again, exactly how she would have done for him.
***
Steve knew what people thought. That he didn’t have a family because it wasn’t the traditional type of one. Two parents, siblings by his side, maybe a dog, even a cat.
He’d had something close to the traditional family unit once. He remembered his ma … how she danced, smelled, felt … and always would. While he didn’t remember those important things about his pa, the memory of that old photo would never fade.
But there were these faces. These faces by the names of Clint, Thor, Natasha, Tony and Bruce. They were his world … his life … his soul. While their lives were never going to be a fairytale adventure, if he could wake up to those faces every day, he was finally complete again, having been giving back the pieces of his heart that had been shattered when his ma had to go far too soon. They had taught him how to live again, making him feel just overwhelmed with emotion at the love he had for them, a truly indescribable feeling, unable to be defined with a single word or definition.
These faces were his family and no one could ever tell him any different. Because no one knew better than him what family was and who they were to him. And these faces were, without a single doubt … even through every hardship and nightmare … his family.