Chapter Text
‘I thought we’d get the biggest tantrum from the toddler at the thought of separation,’ Clint muttered, watching in amazement as Tony swore rather spectacularly into his phone.
Natasha nodded in bemusement. ‘I don’t know who’s going to have the harder time babysitting: the ones with Tony or the ones with Bruce.’
‘You’re one of the most incompetent idiots I’ve ever spoken to!’ Tony spat down the phone. ‘And I’ve met Justin Hammer.’
‘The ones with Tony,’ Clint said. ‘Definitely the ones with Tony.’
Steve sent a reprimanding glare to the man furiously pacing the length of the living room. ‘Not in front of the baby, Tony,’ he hissed, settling down next to the toddler at the coffee table, Thor keeping an ever watchful eye on the child from an armchair.
Crayon abandoned as soon as Tony took the phone call, Bruce blinked innocently up at Steve before his attention was drawn right back to Tony as the other simply poked his tongue out at Steve. Though he did refrain from swearing again, even if by the way his lips puckered now and then, he certainly wanted to.
Rolling his light blue eyes at Tony’s pettiness, Steve turned a soft smile on to Bruce. ‘What are you drawing, sweetheart?’
Regarding Steve unsurely for a moment, Bruce pointed tentatively at his idol. ‘Tony?’
Steve cocked his head at the paper. ‘Are you drawing Tony?’
Bruce shook his head, but didn’t try to elaborate. He brought his hand back and it went straight to his mouth, even despite it being stained green from his crayon.
Luckily, Clint quickly intercepted, gently catching Bruce by the wrist. ‘No, Bub-Bub, your fingers are all yucky.’ It wasn’t said in a reprimanding way at all. Clint screwed his face up comically and even darted some tickling fingers underneath Bruce’s arm, effectively making the worried look vanish, replaced with a shy smile and, as always, an adorable little squirm.
Grinning back, Clint snatched up the red pacifier from the table. ‘Want to give it a try, squirmer?’
Despite Bruce often sucking on his fingers, he showed no interest towards the pacifier whatsoever. While he would never downright refuse it, he would only take it for all of two seconds before stealthily taking it out and leaving it in some of the strangest places. Clint had gotten a shock when he had somehow found a pacifier in the back of a kitchen cupboard, behind some flour, after he had seen Natasha try to give Bruce the same one not ten minutes beforehand.
Now, Bruce glanced mournfully back at his fingers, which was still in Clint’s grip, before turning an equally sad gaze back to the pacifier, letting his thoughts be heard loud and clear without saying a word.
Sighing fondly, Clint sat down the pacifier before holding out his arms to the toddler. ‘Come on, Bub-Bub. Let’s go wash your hands. Maybe even get you something to drink, huh?’
Clint was man enough to say he was more than a little thrilled that after only a moment’s consideration, Bruce put his arms up in consent to be carried. He didn’t waste any time in scooping the toddler up, ignoring as Natasha mouthed, ‘Smitten much?’ to him, cuddling the baby easily to his chest.
As they walked past Tony, the engineer began madly gesticulating even though he currently wasn’t saying word, as though he just had to get out his frustration somehow. Bruce peeked over Clint’s shoulder.
‘Tony?’
‘Tony’s fine, squirmer.’
In the regular sense of the word anyway.
Bruce perked up more so he could continue watching Tony for as long as possible before they disappeared into the dining room which opened out into the kitchen which Clint headed into. ‘Tony angry?’ the toddler asked, sounding a tad worried, little eyebrows furrowing together in concern.
Clint smiled softly at Bruce, always concerned about his older brother’s well-being, big or little. ‘Nah, kid. More cranky, I’d say.’
‘Oh.’ Bruce went quiet as he watched Clint wet a cloth one-handed then proceeded to clean off his fingers, even giving his face a wipe. As always, Bruce was a perfect angel through it and didn’t try to get away at all, despite most children being notorious fighters against having their faces washed. Clint’s little hellions included.
He remained silent up until Clint got out one of the sippy cups that used to be Lila’s, a faded pink one Bruce had taken one look at and declared, ‘Pwetty’.
‘Bobble?’ he asked, which was Bruce-speak for bottle.
‘Bobble?’ Clint echoed. He had the bad habit of simply saying the words how the kids did, which Laura continually went off at him for, saying they would never learn how to say it properly if he did it too.
He wasn’t too worried. Cooper and Lila had turned out all right. Though Lila did tend to call knives, ‘Daddy and Aunty Nat’s toys’. Not completely inaccurate but not really something he wanted his six-year-old to claiming. Particularly in supermarkets in front of a group of older ladies.
Just to clarify, Clint asked, ‘You want a bobble?’
It was pretty obvious Bruce preferred bottles but it was like he was forever trying to impress them by drinking as much from a sippy cup as possible. The only time he would take a bottle without a protest was nap time or bedtime. Since it wasn’t close to either, being about ten am in the morning, Clint was a little confused by the request, secretly hoping it was Bruce finally conceding to what the toddler wanted but somehow, Clint didn’t think so.
Just as he thought, Bruce shook his head adamantly, sending his curls everywhere. ‘Nu-uh,’ he said, caused Clint to bite down on another smile at just how adorable it sounded. ‘Bobble um … um … for Tony.’
This time, Clint couldn’t hold back the beginnings of a smile. ‘Tony?’ he asked, voice a little high with questioning.
Bruce began to suck on his fingers, craning his head to look up at Clint. ‘Tony cranky,’ he said matter-of-factly.
Clint swore he was going to choke on laughter; he was going to die from trying not to swallow it back, he was sure of it, of the thought of a toddler wanting to give a grown-man a bottle.
‘Oh, baby,’ he managed to gasp, unable to articulate any further. ‘Oh, baby.’
The toddler blinked up at Clint and just as with adult Bruce, tended to go along with someone even if he didn’t understand what they were on about. He grinned unsurely up at Clint, obviously not getting the joke but happy to humour the archer anyway.
‘Bub-Bub,’ Clint finally managed to get his welling laughter under control, smiling fondly at the toddler. ‘That is a very sweet thought, but I think Tony might be all right for now. Okay?’
While it was wildly tempting to pull this prank on Tony and bring him a bottle, Bruce was suggesting it as a nice thing. Clint wouldn’t hurt his feelings for the world when the toddler would pick up that it was something done just to tease Tony.
Bruce nodded in acceptance of this, but still pointed to his sippy cup. ‘Get … get Tony d-dwink?’
The toddler had a bit of stutter as well as lisp. It was more than a little adorable; Clint loved listening to the little husky voice ask the sweetest of questions, always inadvertently showing how smart Bruce was. Effectively smashing the stereotype that if a person had a speech impediment, they were somehow less intelligent.
Dumbest thing Clint had ever come across in his life and he used to get into more than a few fights in school when some unintelligent nitwit thought it was a bright idea to pick on someone because they had a stutter.
‘Done and done, Bub-Bub.’ Clint easily planted a kiss on Bruce’s cheek; this toddler was in serious need of as much love as possible and Clint was only too happy to provide it at every chance possible.
Especially when the adorable blush lit up the toddler’s face, as it did now, along with the shyest of smiles that Bruce had to hide from the affection, burying his face at the base of Clint’s neck.
Chuckling fondly, Clint pressed another kiss to the baby’s curls, filling the sippy cup one handed. Then, still with one hand, managed to screw the lid back on, he used his surprising hand-width to grab both the sippy cup and a can of lemonade and headed back to the lounge room, swaying automatically the whole time.
Tony was off the phone when they came back in but didn’t appear much happier than he did before. The guy could look terrifying when he wanted to, despite being on the shorter side. With the amount of years Clint had been working with Natasha though, he knew better than to estimate his opponent based on their height.
However, as soon as Bruce was brought back into the room, Tony lost the darkness, smiling at the toddler. While it was strained, it was certainly no less genuine.
‘Those words you just heard Tony say, bud? Not for repeating.’
Bruce gave his adorably gummy grin, huge and open, not one of his shy smiles, which was the norm when Tony gave the toddler his full attention. He flung out his arms for Tony to take him. It was becoming less and less of a shy request and more something Bruce did without question or worry, content in the knowledge Tony wanted him. Clint loved seeing the change and for Bruce to act more like a child rather than like a haunted figure taking up residence in a child.
His interactions with Cooper and Lila had certainly seemed to help; Clint was sure he would miss them today, particularly if Tony was having to head out.
The strain disappeared around Tony’s face and his eyes got that soft twinkle. Without hesitation, he took Bruce from Clint, forever gentle with anything he did with the toddler as he settled Bruce in the curve of his arm so the toddler could rest against his shoulder.
‘Tony,’ Bruce declared, completely satisfied now, snuggling into the crook of his hero’s neck. The sippy cup was forgotten in his hands as he concentrated on getting as close to Tony as he could.
Clint gave a snort. ‘What am I, just a piece of meat?’
He regretted saying it immediately as Bruce turned heart-broken eyes on to him.
‘No sad, Cwint,’ it was hard to make out through the tears and already, he was reaching one stumpy hand back to the archer. ‘No sad, ‘o-‘ove you too. ‘Ove you too.’
‘Oh, Bub-Bub, no,’ Clint cooed, knowing the heartbreak showed on his face at his carelessness. He felt a little sick with guilt as Steve, Natasha and Thor’s voices basically melded together, calling out, telling Bruce it was all right and that Clint was joking.
He was grateful when Tony didn’t make him feel worse, but instead, shot him a sympathetic grimace, before kissing Bruce’s temple, already murmuring soothing words of, ‘Clint’s playing, big man. Being silly, remember? He just made a silly joke, he knows you love him.’
Clint smiled back, beyond grateful. There was nothing worse than inadvertently setting off Bruce’s triggers. It made you feel like the worst person in the world, especially because Bruce never actually got cranky, but instead, tried to be comforting to the person who upset him. He really had to learn to watch his words around Bruce. Usually, he was really good, but he naturally teased and forgot that so much, little Bruce still couldn’t quite decipher a joke. And to joke that he had somehow done something to upset one of them was the biggest no-no possible and Clint had been the biggest right idiot ever and spoke without thinking at all.
He ran a hand done the side of Bruce’s tear-streaked face while gripping the little hand Bruce held out to him. ‘No sad, squirmer, no sad,’ he murmured gently, but otherwise, didn’t try to interfere too much. Tony was the one who tended to have the magic words to make Bruce realise he hadn’t done anything wrong. He was the only person who seemed to have the knack of making Bruce believe him whole-heartedly that the toddler was a good boy.
Just as Clint thought, Bruce calmed, listening to Tony’s words, but held on to Clint’s hand with a death grip.
‘Joke?’ he whispered, as though to make sure, the word coming out more sounding like, ‘Yoke.’
‘Yes, baby, joke,’ Clint assured with a sad smile as Tony gave the toddler another kiss, confirming at the same time, ‘That’s right, silly joke.’
Bruce got that look on his face which had become horribly familiar over the past month. His whole face screwed up with heartbreaking indecision. He wanted to believe so badly everything was okay but was so afraid it wasn’t true so couldn’t quite let himself go there.
Tony gave a fond, frustrated sigh. ‘C’mon, baby,’ he murmured, cupping Bruce’s crown and gently guiding the toddler to rest on his shoulder. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong. Hey, I’m always excited to see you. Do you think that’s wrong?’
With most kids Bruce’s age, that sort of question would go over their heads. However, Bruce got what Tony was getting at straight away.
There was something to it as well Clint was picking up that he wasn’t sure Tony was seeing yet. If any of Bruce’s behaviour was compared to Tony’s, there was just no way it could be wrong in the toddler’s mind.
The teary eyes became bright as Bruce put together that if Tony wasn’t doing anything wrong by acting excited to see him then he wasn’t either. The smile was terribly shy and watery but it was a smile and that was so much of a damn victory. Clint even felt a bit weak with relief since it was him who set off Bruce’s trigger.
‘Tony,’ Bruce whispered, cuddling back into the engineer, fingers wedged into his mouth.
Rubbing a firm hand up and down Bruce’s back, causing the little body to lose the tension there, Tony confirmed in a soft voice, ‘That’s right, buddy. Tony.’ Gently picking up the sippy cup, he pressed another kiss to Bruce’s curls. ‘How about we trade this for a bottle then chill for a bit, huh?’
It showed how much Bruce worked himself up when he didn’t protest the plan in the least. Instead, he gripped Tony’s shirt so hard that his fingers turned white at the tips and curled up into a tiny ball in the other man’s hold.
Clint still felt an edge of sickness when the two went out of the room. Why did he use his mouth sometimes before he used his brain?
He was grateful to feel Natasha nudging him with her shoulder; she knew him well, knowing he liked some space when worried, not really going for a hug, liking to cross his arms as he worked through the emotions twisting him up. It didn’t mean he didn’t want closeness though, which is exactly what she was providing.
‘We’re learning his triggers,’ she murmured to him. ‘It takes time.’
Clint’s shoulders slumped. ‘But I knew that one.’
‘It was a mistake, Clint.’ Natasha nudged him again, slightly harder. ‘You didn’t mean to upset him. That’s all the matters.’
He shook his head but was stopped when Natasha grabbed his chin. Unlike with most people, he easily met Natasha’s piercing gaze. Her unique green eyes, bespeaking a strength he always knew was within her, was calming to him.
‘Yes,’ she said, not harshly, but simply, speaking the truth, nothing more, nothing less. ‘It is.’
For a few moments, he didn’t say anything, simply drinking in the strength she was giving him; the truth she was giving him. Finally, he gave a nod.
She watched him for a moment, but she saw he was listening and not blowing her off. They rarely lied to each other with stuff like this. With a small crook of her lips, she nodded as well, stepping back.
Clearing his throat softly, he directed his next words at Steve. ‘So … what’s happening with Tony?’
He vaguely noted he hardly ever referred to his old mate as Stark at all anymore.
Steve gave a sigh. ‘He needs to head to Cape May. SHIELD have a research laboratory there.’ Amusement coloured his features. ‘The scientists can’t seem to quite grasp his schematics.’
Clint snorted on his laughter. Nothing ticked Tony off more than people not able to understand something he was utterly convinced was simple. Truthfully, people in the scientists’ positions should have so he could understand why Tony was so annoyed. Not to mention, the prospect of having to leave little Bruce for most of the day wouldn’t be going down with Tony at all, not liking leaving his adopted little brother’s side about as much as Bruce did.
‘Who’s wrangling him?’
It was common knowledge never to send Tony to SHIELD by himself. It was an unpleasant experience for everyone involved and the fallout tended to be quite epic. Fury had to work through going into another aneurism by the time Tony waltzed back out.
Unsurprisingly, it was Steve who raised his hand. ‘That would be me.’
‘I don’t envy you,’ Clint grinned while Steve rolled his eyes, not looking putout at all. Really, why would he? He adored spending time with Tony, no matter in how a caustic mood the engineer could be in.
Thor lazily stretched beside him. ‘I shall be out for the day as well. My fair lady Jane has requested for me to visit her for a reasons she would not disclose.’
Clint gave a wicked grin. ‘I could think of a few reasons.’
Natasha elbowed him, in which him coughed dramatically, just because.
It suddenly made sense why Tony hadn’t returned from the kitchen with Bruce. He was probably explaining to the toddler what was about to happen. Clint really was happy not to be there for that conversation. The way Bruce’s face could drop tended to make his heart plummet just as much. Really, the child had a brutal pair of puppy eyes which could give some lethal hits.
‘So,’ Clint turned to Natasha, trying to grin cockily but he knew she would be able to see the nervousness behind it, ‘you and me on babysitting duty, huh?’
Natasha grinned crookedly, checking him with her hip. ‘As long as he has the Avengers daddy, I’m sure he’ll be fine.’
Clint rolled his eyes at her nickname for him, but it settled him somewhat all the same.
What really clinched it for him though was when Tony came back in, empty bottle in hand, obviously having forgotten to discard it. Bruce was looking up at him with teary eyes but wasn’t outright crying. Yet, anyway. However, as soon as Tony saw Clint, a genuine grin lit up his face and he pointed at the archer.
‘Clint’s going to be looking after you, munchkin,’ he said enthusiastically, giving Bruce a bounce. ‘Do you know how awesome he is with his little minions?’ He waved his hand high in the air, causing droplets of milk to spray from the bottle he was brandishing. ‘This much! You’ve seen it. I mean, come on! You’re going to have a ball with him.’
As with all things Tony said, Bruce believed it, glancing over at Clint with hope in his glistening eyes.
This time, Tony’s words had the same effect on Clint. Because Tony wasn’t just goofing off; it was obvious how much he believed what he said as he smiled at Clint, chestnut brown eyes bright in a way that made Clint swell on the spot, smiling confidently back at his old mate.
He could do this. If those two could trust him then he could trust himself.