Work Text:
Steve woke up at 2:37 am to his cell phone ringing. Beside him, Bucky didn’t even stir.
“Hello?” mumbled Steve, blinking tiredly, trying to pretend that he was actually awake and hoping the call wasn’t a butt dial.
It wasn’t and a half hour later, Steve was downing his second cup of coffee and waiting for the doorbell to sound. When it did, he answered right away, talking briefly with Pepper Potts, the social worker who looked incredible despite the early hour, before taking in the young boy with her. Pepper explained that Tony had wandered into a fire station, dirty and barefoot, seemingly abandoned. She was working with the police to locate his parents but until then placed him with Steve and Bucky. The pair had proven themselves good with difficult cases and since there was next to no information on little Tony, Pepper thought they were the best home for him.
“This is the kitchen,” said Steve when Pepper left. “We keep lots of snacks in the fridge and pantry. Would you like a snack?”
Tony shook his head, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands nervously. Steve tried not to yawn.
“Okay,” said Steve easily.
He held out his hand and Tony eyed it distrustfully before tentatively taking it with his own, tiny one. Steve grinned and walked slowly into the living room.
“This is the living room,” explained Steve. “There are some toys in that box over there that you can play with in the morning but it’s pretty late now. So how about I show you your bedroom and we get you to sleep?”
Tony shrugged and followed Steve up the stairs. Steve and Bucky had the master bedroom with a bathroom at the end of the hall next to the stairs. There were three other bedrooms upstairs and an office downstairs that they could use as a guest room if needed. The house had truly been too large for them when they bought it but the price had been low, the area on the rise, and Bucky and Steve enjoyed a challenge. Together they had restored the old house, transforming it into a home.
“This one will be your room,” said Steve, opening the door to the room at the end of the hall.
The room had a twin bed with bumper rails to prevent anyone from falling off in the night. The blankets were a light blue and the walls mostly blank, save for a single framed movie poster from an old science fiction movie that Bucky loved. They hadn’t used the room in almost a year. When Clint had come to stay with them, they had put him in this room originally but the kid snuck into Phil’s room every night until finally they gave up and let them share a room.
“The bathroom is right down the hall,” explained Steve. “See, it’s through this door.”
Tony nodded and shifted again in his dirty clothes.
“Why don’t we get you all changed into something a little more comfy?” suggested Steve softly.
The blonde understood that it was really late and Tony was probably overwhelmed with everything, which would explain the lack of verbal response. Steve took a pair of sweat pants and long sleeve shirt and helped Tony change into them, biting back a grimace at the scattered bruises on the kid. Steve helped Tony settle into bed and turned on a night light.
“Sleep well, Tony,” said Steve with a smile. “I’ll be in my room down the hall if you need me during the night. If you need to use the bathroom remember it’s the door with the yellow sign on it.”
Tony turned toward the wall, ignoring Steve entirely and Steve left the room, keeping the door open a bit so Tony could see the hall if he woke up confused. With another yawn, Steve went back to his room, keeping his own door open in case Tony or one of the other kids woke up and called for him. Bucky was still asleep and didn’t stir when Steve slid back into bed.
The next morning found Steve yawning into his coffee while he made scrambled eggs. Clint and Phil were playing cars in the living room, waiting for breakfast to be ready, while Wade sat on the table, watching. Bucky stumbled down the stairs, freshly showered but clearly not quite awake.
“Morning handsome,” greeted Steve, passing Bucky a full mug of coffee and kissing his cheek. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Want me to get the hooligans?” asked Bucky.
“That would be wonderful,” said Steve. “Also, there is a new hooligan still asleep upstairs. I want to let him sleep for a little longer, though. He arrived late last night.”
“A new one?”
“Yup. His name is Tony. His case worker is Pepper Potts. There’s not much information on him yet, they think he was abandoned but nothing is positive.”
“How old is he?”
“I think he’s five but again, there’s not a lot on him yet.”
Bucky took another deep sip of coffee. Four kids. That was a lot of children. They had had more – six was their limit – but not since Clint had come to live with them. In fact, after officially adopting Phil and Wade and starting the process to adopt Clint, Steve and Bucky had been considering not taking on any more children. They were happy with how their family had settled in together and another child would disrupt that. But now they had Tony.
“It’ll only be for a few days at most,” said Steve. “Pepper said after finding the parents it would only be a matter of whether they want him back or not.”
“And if they don’t?” asked Bucky. “Steve, we talked about this. We’re done taking more kids.”
“If they can’t find his parents or they need to find him a more steady solution, then we will just tell Pepper we can’t have him,” sighed Steve. “Two days, Bucky. Just two days max.”
Before Bucky could respond, there was a shout from Clint in the living room.
“Who are you?” demanded Clint.
“Shit,” cursed Steve.
Tony entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with one fist and sucking his thumb. Steve almost cooed at the sight of the kid practically drowning in the borrowed shirt. But he bit it back, because they weren’t going to be keeping Tony and he didn’t want to get attached.
Foster care was only temporary.
“Good morning, Tony,” said Steve with a smile.
“Dad!” said Clint, running in after Tony and jumping on Bucky. “Dad, who’s the new kid?”
“Clint, this is Tony,” said Steve while Bucky tried to get Clint to sit in his own seat, not his lap. “He’s staying here for a couple days.”
“I thought you guys were talking about not getting any more kids,” said Wade, wrinkling his nose slightly as he marched to his chair. He was seven but he had lived with Bucky and Steve since he was three months old. His family had died in a house fire that left him with scars all down his left side and a thick scar pulling from his hairline to his chin.
Bucky and Steve exchanged awkward looks. They didn’t want Tony to feel unwelcomed but they also didn’t want their kids to get the wrong idea. They would not be keeping Tony.
“Didn’t you hear Papa?” said Phil, the eleven year old using his matter-of-fact tone he often adopted when Wade was acting like a brat on purpose. “He said Tony’s only here for a couple of days.”
“Hi Tony,” said Clint, climbing out of the chair Bucky had just managed to wrestle him on and running over to the smaller boy. “I’m Clint. I’m 8 years old but I’m going to be nine in a week! How old are you?”
“Oh, sweetie, Tony hasn’t –“ Steve began to explain that Tony hadn’t spoken since he had been found.
Tony held up four fingers to Clint with a small look through his shaggy brown hair.
“Wow, four, that’s pretty big!” said Clint enthusiastically. Clint was outgoing and loved younger children especially. “Do you want to come eat some breakfast with me? Steve makes pretty good eggs.”
Tony nodded and took Clint’s hand when the taller boy offered. Steve set a booster seat in the chair next to Clint’s before adding plates of food in front of each of the kids.
“Here!” said Clint, reaching onto the table and snatching up a banana. “Banana’s are yummy too.”
Before anyone could stop him, Clint peeled the banana and placed half of it in front of Tony, putting the rest in his mouth until it squished out the sides.
“Ew, Clint!” squealed Phil. “That’s gross! Chew your food!”
Clint gave a banana smeared grin before he finished chewing. Tony smiled down at his plate and took several miniscule bites of his own banana before poking grimly at the eggs. By the time everyone else at the table was finished, Tony had taken a total of three full bites of egg and finished about a third of his half of banana.
“All done?” asked Clint, when Wade got up to go play and Phil was helping clear the table.
Tony nodded.
Steve eyed the nearly full plate but didn’t comment. Bucky quickly kissed the kids and his husband, and left for work. Steve, meanwhile, took a phone call from Pepper. At the end of the conversation, Steve let out a frustrated sigh and turned to the living room where the three older boys were all playing and Tony was sitting quietly.
“Alright boys, we need to get our shoes on,” announced Steve. “We’re going out.”
“Where?” asked Phil, ever the curious one while Wade and Clint raced each other to get their shoes. Tony shifted, uncertain as to where his shoes had ended up last night.
“We have a few errands to run,” said Steve, leaning down and picking up the four year old. “We need to get some groceries and a couple other stops.”
One of those stops was to the hospital. Pepper had called and explained that the police hadn’t gotten Tony checked over by a doctor the night before and she didn’t have time to take him today, so Steve needed to do it. While he understood that it needed to happen, Steve wasn’t happy about the disruption to his schedule for a kid who – apart from a couple of bruises – seemed fine. But they went to the hospital where Pepper had set up an appointment with Dr. Bruce Banner.
“Why don’t you kids go play with those toys?” suggested Dr. Banner when they had Tony settled on the exam table.
It was the pediatrics ward of the hospital and Bruce had a large exam room for families, so a corner was dedicated to games and toys to keep younger ones distracted while their siblings and parents talked to the doctor. Wade, Clint, and Phil were all too happy to play since it meant they didn’t have to be stuck with needles and stuff.
“Tony, I’m Dr. Bruce,” said Bruce, sitting on a rolling stool and pushing his glasses more firmly on his nose. “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, listen to you breathe, take your temperature, and draw some blood, okay?”
Tony nodded.
“After that, I may have to give you a shot or two, but I will tell you before, okay? No surprises,” said Bruce. He was used to treating young, uncertain children, so he tried to put them at ease by telling them what was going on. “If you have any questions, just ask. I will answer everything I can.”
Tony sat through the entire appointment without complaint, barely sniffing with Bruce drew some blood and sent it to the lab. Bruce had a lab that rushed the results on all his work because children were antsy and also because they were anxious to see if Tony was already in the medical system. It would aid in finding his parents or guardian. Maybe he had just wandered off, though that was unlikely since no one had reported him missing yet and it had been almost 24 hours – by their best estimate of when he would have wandered off.
“What that?” asked Tony, speaking for the first time, pointing at the industrial laptop Bruce was entering data into.
“This is my computer,” said Bruce with a smile, turning his full attention on the kid who had not said a thing the entire appointment. “It keeps track of everything for me. Right now I’m making a file just for you. See, I’m writing down what your height and weight is.”
“Why?” asked Tony, crawling to the edge of the table and placing a hand on Bruce’s shoulder for balance as he peered at the screen.
“So I don’t forget,” explained Bruce. “Sometime grown ups forget things, so I like to write them down. Now I’m going to write down how tall you are. See this box? That’s where the number of inches tall you are goes.”
“Thirty-three,” supplied Tony.
“That’s right!” praised Bruce, surprised that Tony remembered and had been listening. “You’re thirty-three inches tall.
“That’s 2 feet and 9 inches,” said Tony with a grin, getting excited.
“How did you know that?” asked Bruce, careful to sound happy-surprised instead of accusing.
“I like numbers. And I’m 20.4 pounds!”
“Very good! What a smart little boy you are.”
Tony positively glowed at the praise.
“What that say?” asked Tony, pointing at the words Bruce had typed on the line next to weight.
“It says that you’re underweight for your height,” said Bruce. “What that means is that you need to eat more food so you can grow even bigger and stronger.”
The doctor didn’t mention that Tony was also smaller than most four year olds. He would explain that to Steve when he had Tony’s blood results in a bit.
“Um, Dr. Bruce, here are the records on your patient,” said young nurse, sticking her head around the door and handing a file folder to the doctor.
“Thank you,” said Bruce, opening the file and starting to read.
As he did, his face grew pale and eyes narrowed in worry.
“What is it?” asked Steve, concerned because the doctor was concerned.
“Tony, do you know what epilepsy or asthma is?” asked Bruce.
Tony wrinkled his nose as he thought before shaking his head no.
“Have you ever had a difficult time breathing?”
Tony nodded.
“Has your head ever gotten foggy? Or have you ever fallen down but don’t remember falling down?”
Tony nodded, this time more slowly.
“What’s going on?” demanded Steve.
“First, I need you to keep your voice calm,” said Bruce sternly, turning his eyes on Steve for the first time in several minutes. “There is good news and bad news. The good news is we know who Tony is now. This is Tony Stark. According to his medical records he has been flagged for epilepsy, asthma, and an allergy to bee stings and shellfish. He’s not wearing a medical ID bracelet, though, and none of his prescriptions for EpiPens, seizure medication, or breathing treatments have been filled in over a year.”
“So even if we find his parents now that we know who he is, they won’t get him back until they can prove not to be medically neglectful,” sighed Steve. He felt bad, he really did, for the first concern being that Tony was going to have to find a new home and not concern for the boy himself, but he couldn’t help what his first thoughts were. It had been a really long night and not at all how he planned things to go.
“I’m going to get these prescriptions sent in,” said Bruce, pointedly glaring at Steve for his response. “You are going to pick them up and I’m having our hospital engraver make Tony a bracelet so if he needs a new home or anything happens to him, he can be taken care of properly.”
“I’m sorry,” said Steve, having the grace to look shamefully at his lap. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just a bit tired and having a hard time coping with all this new information.”
“How do you think Tony feels?” hissed Bruce, low enough that Tony – who was playing with a tongue depressor – didn’t hear him. “He’s four years old and from what I can tell from his medical records hasn’t had anyone helping or explaining what’s happening to him his entire life. So I’m sorry if this is inconvenient for you but that’s Tony’s reality and if you’re not going to help him then tell me right now so I can call his case worker and find him some adults who will give a damn.”
Steve felt like a complete asshole. Tony had done nothing to deserve getting shifted from house to house, to feel like he didn’t belong, and he certainly didn’t deserve to feel scared because he didn’t know what his own body was doing. Bruce was right, and even if Tony was only with them for the rest of the day and the next, Steve needed to do his best to make the boy feel cared for and welcome. Just one look at his own children made his heart clench at the idea that anyone treat them like they were a burden as he had been doing to Tony.
“No, it’s okay,” said Steve softly. “What do I need to know to help Tony?”
Bruce nodded, satisfied if not completely at ease with Steve, before turning to get different folded bits of information for the blond. Steve lifted Tony down and told him to go play with the other boys while he talked to Dr. Bruce in more detail.
“We’re playing blocks,” said Wade when Tony sat down next to him.
“You can be on my team,” said Clint. “We’re going to build the best tower ever. And then we can knock it down.”
Tony was happy to build with Clint and Clint was glad to have him because Tony was great at making a sturdy block tower. The kids didn’t even notice the time nor other people who entered and exited the room until Steve was telling them to clean up so they could go get lunch.
“I’m going to see you next week, Tony,” said Bruce, crouching down to be level with the kid. “Steve is going to give you some medicine every day that should help you not fall down. And I have a present for you!”
Tony looked on in wonder as Bruce secured a stainless steel bracelet around his wrist. The flat part said words Tony couldn’t read but it was pretty and a gift just for him!
“I want you to wear this all the time, okay?” said Bruce.
“Thank you!” said Tony, hugging the doctor.
“You’re welcome,” said Bruce with a grin. “Now, you be good. I’ll see you next week.”
Steve left the office with his hoard of boys and a bag full of medicine and informational reading. He took the easy route for lunch and bought each of the kids a Happy Meal before calling Bucky and asking him to take the afternoon off work. They needed to talk.
At home, Steve and Bucky sat at the kitchen table, medical information spread between them, while the Clint, Phil, and Wade all played in the living room and Tony napped upstairs.
“Have they found the kids parents yet?” asked Bucky, more because he didn’t know what to say exactly and that seemed easy.
“Pepper hasn’t called to let me know if they have,” said Steve. “Buck, we need to talk about this. About Tony.”
“We’re not keeping him,” said Bucky instantly. “This,” he gestured to the papers in front of him, “is all the more reason to have Pepper find him a better home. We don’t know how to do this, we can’t take care of a sick kid.”
“Now that’s not true,” said Steve instantly. “I think we did okay with Wade. He still has to go to physical therapy for his injuries and it’s been six years. We keep on top of any pain medication he might need and we take him for regular appointments. We’re not completely clueless. And I had asthma as a kid. And Phil is allergic to bee stings, so that’s nothing new.”
“But epilepsy?” said Bucky quietly. “Stevie, we don’t know anything about seizures. Quite frankly, that alone is reason to send him back tonight. Pepper can find him a foster family who knows how to take care of kids with medical disorders.”
“Yeah, because there are a ton of good foster homes just begging to take in a sick kid,” said Steve, rolling his eyes. “We’ve learned how to take care of anger issues with Victor and an eating disorder with Natasha. What’s one more thing?”
“But each of those kids had families they eventually got back to or were adopted into! You and I both know that even if they find Tony’s parents there’s no way he is going to be allowed to live with them because they haven’t taken care of his medical needs. You told me Bruce said that he’s underweight and he thinks he wasn’t getting fed. This kid needs a long-term plan and I don’t think we are it.”
“Fine,” snapped Steve. “Then you go tell him yourself! Go tell him that tomorrow he’s going back with Ms. Pepper and she’ll find him a different family.”
“I will!”
“Dad?” asked Wade, peaking around the corner of the kitchen door.
“What is it, buddy?” asked Bucky, instantly softening his tone and smiling at his youngest.
“Are you sending Tony away because he’s sick?” asked Wade.
“Kiddo, it’s a little more complicated than that,” said Bucky, guilt twisting his stomach.
“Because, because I was sick when you got me,” said Wade, eyes bright but tone determined. “And you kept me. And you still have to take me to the doctor and help me with some things and you still keep me.”
“And Tony needs a family to keep him,” said Clint, stepping up behind Wade, Phil a moment behind. “He’s just a little guy and he’s scared but he’s real smart.”
“If you aren’t going to keep him, where is he going to go?” asked Phil.
“Were you all listening instead of playing?” asked Steve.
“I don’t know where he’ll go,” said Bucky. “But I just don’t think it’s best for our family to take in a sick kid right now.”
“I’m sure glad you got me when you did, then,” said Wade, tears in his eyes. “Because otherwise you’d just send me away too!”
Wade stormed off, crying loudly to his room. Clint and Phil glared at Steve and Bucky before following their little brother.
Bucky took a moment before standing up.
“Where are you going?” asked Steve, his voice broken.
“To tell Tony he’s leaving tomorrow,” said Bucky.
“Not talk to our kids?”
“They’re children, they’re mad right now but they’ll get over it. It’s not fair to let Tony get comfortable if he’s just going to leave again so soon.”
With that, Bucky marched upstairs, down the hall, and into the room Tony was sleeping in. When he entered, he saw Tony seizing on the bed. By the state of the blankets, it appeared as though he had been doing it before Bucky arrived. There was a large wet spot where Tony’s little bladder had released. It was not at all what Bucky had been expecting a seizure to look like. He had thought it would be a lot of flopping and flailing but it was closer to muscle spasms – and not every muscle spasmed at the same time. By the time Bucky reached the bed, only Tony’s left arm was still twitching and when the brunet knelt down, that too had stopped, leaving a blinking, panting, crying little four year old in it’s wake.
“Oh, kiddo, you’re okay,” said Bucky, not hesitating to scoop Tony into his arms, ignoring the smell of urine and wetness seeping into his shirt. “Sh, I know, I know, that was scary, wasn’t it? That was fucking terrifying kid.”
Bucky closed his eyes while he swayed on the spot, Tony’s sobs muffled when the kid buried his face in the older man’s black shirt. That had been terrifying and he hadn’t even witnessed the entire thing. But the way Tony so willingly snuggled into his arms, crying out his fear and confusion, made Bucky feel infinitely better and entirely sadder at the same rate. He was glad he could help – he couldn’t prevent the seizure but he could hold the boy after and make sure he knew he was safe. But he felt even worse because how many times had Tony suffered through these alone? How often did they happen and did he cry without anyone to tell him it was over?
How long had this boy been alone?
How much longer would he be alone, shifted from house to house?
By the time Tony was calmed down and changed into clean clothes, it was almost dinner time and Bucky carried a very clingy little boy downstairs. Steve was at the stove, stirring a pot of mac-n-cheese because it had been such a long day and he wasn’t up to making something more complicated, and the other three boys were pouting at the table. No one was speaking.
“Call Pepper after dinner,” said Bucky, kissing Steve’s cheek over Tony’s head, the toddler resting trustingly against his chest. “I want to know what we have to do to keep him.”