Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bucky comes and goes as he pleases, and Steve doesn't say anything about it because he’s too afraid of doing something to make Bucky leave forever. His departures become less frequent, though, and on Thursday he even tells them he is going to leave.

"I’m going. I’ll come back."

"O-okay," Sam says, making the face that he makes when Bucky has done something completely incredibly unexpected but it mustn't be pointed out.

"Call me if you need anything," Steve says, and Bucky nods, hoisting the duffle bag higher on his shoulder and walking out Sam's front door.

Sam stares at the door, then at Steve. “That was five whole words, Steve.”

Steve nods blankly.

“Five. Words.”

"That’s definitely five more words than I was expecting to hear from him tonight."

"He’s on the up-and-up. Who knows, maybe he’ll come back with some Starbucks."

Bucky does not come back with Starbucks.

**

They don’t know when Bucky comes back, because it’s in the middle of the night and all the doors and windows are secured. (Steve left the door unlocked for him the first time he left, then two days later watched as Bucky came in through the window, so. No point.) They only know he’s back because at five in the morning, there is a soft whimpering sound, and then another, and then that is definitely a baby crying.

"Steve," Sam hisses, kneeling by the couch and shaking Steve’s arm roughly. "Steve. Steve. Jesus Christ, man, Steve.”

Steve swats blearily at his hand and sits up, looking around and listening for the threat. Nothing. A baby is crying somewhere, but that’s - wait -

"Is that coming from the guest room?"

“Yes, Steve.”

Steve gets up, crossing the living room in bare feet and stopping a moment in the hallway to listen. The serum means he can hear other things, quieter things - the shuffling of fabric, the quiet sound of someone humming a tune under their breath. Bucky.

Bucky’s never brought so much as a food wrapper back to the house. Steve has no idea how this happened.

He steps forward, knocking very quietly before opening the door. He knows Sam is right behind him, and despite Bucky’s on-the-fence feelings about Sam, Bucky does not even look up to look at either of them. He is seated on the floor with crossed legs, holding up an infant in a grey onesie that desperately needs to be washed.

"Hi, Bucky," Sam says, and Bucky still does not look up. He is still humming, studying the child’s face, taking in the details of the crumpled anguish and despair. Bucky chews his lip, pauses, and then lays the child delicately against his right shoulder, supporting it with his metal arm. The child fusses but begins to quiet down.

"Bucky," Steve tries, because this cannot be put off, not like so many other odd behaviors, because that baby belongs to someone, “where did you get that?”

"Him." Bucky sits up a little straighter, readjusting his grip on the baby and craning his head around to see if the child’s expression has changed. It looks wary, but far less distressed. He looks wary, Steve should say.

"Okay, he." Sam takes a cautious step into the room, waits to see if Bucky doesn’t like it, and then takes another one. "Where did you get him?"

"U Street." Bucky slowly gets to his knees, then to his feet, moving smoothly and keeping his eyes on the tiny - it - it can’t be a year old. Steve is baffled.

"Why did you take him, Bucky?"

"The trash truck was coming."

Steve tries to recreate this in his mind. “The child was in the street?” In a stroller, perhaps?

Bucky shakes his head, walking to his bed and laying the baby down very, very gently. He stares at it a moment. It wibbles as if considering another outburst, but decides against it. Bucky pulls his pillow down from the headboard and lays it between the baby and the edge of the bed.

"Dumpster," Bucky says finally, and walks past Sam and Steve to go to the linen closet.

"You found a baby in a dumpster?" Steve tries to keep his tone as even as possible, but he can’t. Bucky, meanwhile, looks fine. So often he looks completely vacant, or like someone biting back the expression of pain from a fresh wound. Right now, he doesn’t look vacant, exactly. He looks … preoccupied.

"He was crying, and then he stopped. I dug him out. He was under too many things. He started breathing again. I waited, for." Bucky frowns, not knowing how to finish the sentence. For the parents to come? For someone to tell him what to do? "I waited. Then it was morning. The trash truck was coming. So I got out and took him with me."

Bucky pulls out two clean pillowcases, a washcloth, a towel. He brings them back to the bed and looks at the baby again.

"He needs a bath."

**

Sam reports that the he called Child Services and got an automated message about the administration building currently being out of service due to a large freaking chunk of SHIELD debris having fallen through two floors. The voicemail inbox is full.

Steve watches Bucky wash his hands up to the forearm, then fill the sink with warm water and get a small glass from the cupboard. He does this with one hand, because the metal one is currently holding the baby to his shoulder.

"He just…" Sam looks at Bucky, clearly trying to connect the man who couldn’t speak or hardly eat to the man he’s looking at now.

"He had two baby sisters," Steve murmurs, remembering. "I mean, he knows what to do with kids. Knew. Still knows.”

"We gotta watch him, man."

"Oh, obviously."

**

They do. The baby gets a bath, which he seems delighted with, and when that’s done he’s gently toweled off and put back in his onesie. (Bucky washed it by hand, but most of the stains did not come out.)

The baby makes a cooing noise as he’s buttoned back up. Bucky holds him up at arms length, studying him carefully, before pulling him in and cradling him against his shoulder.

"You should buy diapers," Bucky informs Sam flatly, and goes back to his room.

Chapter Text

The pillowcases are used to swaddle him. Bucky pulls out the smallest drawer in his dresser and lines it with the t-shirts he doesn't like - the ones with the tags and the itchy collar seams - and that becomes the bassinet. Sam comes back from the store with some bottles, formula, and everything else that looked important. There's a brief but fierce battle about disposable versus cloth, with Bucky's side of the argument mostly communicated through pointed glaring, but finally Steve intervenes and it's over without any physical altercations. Bucky rests on his side for the first time that Steve's ever seen since he came back. He does it so he can keep an eye on the baby across the room.

**

They order some clothes. Steve is a little overwhelmed by the options until he finds 'bodysuits' and 'rompers', which seem much more appropriate than the tiny polos and board shorts that are apparently also made for infants under a year old. The five-packs have simple block colors or stripes, although Steve also buys something called a 'footie' with elephants on it and isn't one hundred percent sure why. He adds a pack of socks and small hats because he's pretty sure babies get cold easily.

The internet has next-day shipping. When the box arrives, Bucky appears as if from nowhere, digging through it to inspect every item before taking the entire box and taking it into the kitchen. Knowing better than to get in the way, Sam and Steve watch television while Bucky cuts the tags off, hand-washes every item, and hangs them to dry in the bathroom. As soon as the first thing is dry the baby is in it, and the stained grey thing he came in with is in the trash.

**

"You're doing it wrong."

"I'm not - what am I doing wrong?"

Bucky uses his foot to nudge Steve's, turning him around and handing the crying baby to him as if this were something Steve could handle. Steve's hands come up under the tiny flailing arms, holding it away from him for a moment before cringing and resting the wailing thing against his chest. It's got some serious lungs, and the enhanced hearing isn't making this any easier. Steve watches as Bucky prepares the bottle in record time and takes the baby back in his metal arm, supporting his head and tilting the bottle up to feed him.

"Like that." Bucky walks to the couch and sits on it, actually sits on the couch where someone might conceivably sit next to him, and patiently waits until the bottle is empty.

**

Sam keeps up with the one-sided phone tag with Child Services. From what Steve can gather, it was an underfunded and overtasked organization before their offices were partially destroyed by SHIELD/Hydra wreckage. Right now it's just not a priority, for whatever reason, and the emergency reconstruction is focused elsewhere. The baby stays, for now.

**

"He got a name yet?"

Bucky looks up from his pacing. The baby's asleep for now, but in the evenings it only seems to stay that way if someone is walking him around. After the first few days Bucky must have gotten tired of circling his own small space and started carrying him around the whole house, gently bouncing him every other step.

"A name," Sam repeats. "For the baby."

"He has a name," Bucky murmurs, and disappears into the kitchen, down the hall, returning soon enough as he walks the same track over and over.

"So what's his name?" Sam asks as he passes.

"I don't know." Bucky keeps walking.

**

Bucky still doesn't talk to Steve or Sam, not really. He answers direct questions, reports when they're out of something Sam or Steve needs to go out and buy. That's about it.

Bucky doesn't leave the house anymore. Steve worries about it a little, but it might actually be preferable to whatever he was doing when he was leaving. Steve can't pretend to guess everything Bucky got up to, but there was definitely a strange bunker in the midwest that was found smoking and charred last month, and another near El Paso back when Bucky was gone for eight days a while before that. Steve's less worried about the morality of the property damage/death count of Bucky's missions and more worried that Bucky might end up hurt. His eyes aren't as empty as they were when he first came back, but Bucky's not himself, not completely, and Steve can't parse out exactly which parts of him are missing, which are still there, which bits are new that don't belong. For the first few days Bucky was back, Steve would wake up on the couch, roll over, and see Bucky getting up from the floor across the room, walking away - like he'd been staring at him for what might have been hours, watching, making sure he woke up or just taking the opportunity to inspect him. Who knows.

Bucky watches the baby now, making small encouraging sounds when the baby pushes himself up from crawling on his stomach to sitting upright. Steve thinks he talks more to the baby than to him or Sam, even if it's not always words.

Bucky sings sometimes, but the lullabies are old and he doesn't sing the words. Just sounds, melodies, like he's known the song his whole life but he's never spoken the language it was sung in.

**

"African-American male. Yes. No, I don't..." Sam leans against the wall, eyes rolling up to the ceiling as he holds the cell phone to his ear. "I don't know, ma'am. I don't think he's nine months yet."

Steve sips his coffee and looks out the window. It's raining. Underneath the sound of that, if Steve listens, he can hear the real silence next door. Bucky might actually be really asleep. That would be a nice change for an early morning. The circles under his eyes are still incredibly prominent.

"Yes. Yeah, we've got him here at my house, but he - no, no, I don't - well can you at least give me a case number or something? Or a direct phone number so I don't have to spend an hour getting passed around to - yes. Sorry. Yes. Thank you."

Sam hangs up and mutters a curse under his breath, going to the coffee maker and pouring himself a cup. Steve gives it a few seconds before asking.

"No luck?"

"I made the mistake of telling her the baby seems fine and that we have the resources to take care of him." Sam takes a deep, tight breath and then lets it out. "She's gonna check the list of missing kids, but if he's not on there, we've got him until CS gets their shit together."

"That could be ... a while?"

Sam says nothing, but his expression speaks volumes.

**

The baby gets sick on the towel laid over Bucky's shoulder, and five minutes later there's a surprise encore on Bucky's tank top.

"No more baby food with pears," Sam declares, and holds his hands out to take the child from Bucky. There's a long moment of great reluctance and tension, but Bucky finally hands the baby over, and Sam takes him and starts to coo, sidling over to the pile of small towels to get one arranged. Just in case.

Bucky showers off and comes back in a fresh shirt in what must be under three minutes, but the baby's already fallen asleep on Sam's shoulder, drooling copiously. Unwilling to dislodge him from his spot, Bucky sits with them and watches the news until the baby stirs and begins to wake up. When he takes the baby back it makes an incoherent tired sound, and Bucky makes a small, sympathetic one back.

Chapter Text

Steve comes back from a midday jog to find Sam gesturing frantically at him to be silent. Steve shuts the door as quietly as possible, determining from Sam's excited expression that this isn't a security issue, but something Bucky-related that is being spied on.

Steve listens for a while, and is about to quietly ask what he's listening for when he hears it - a raspberry sound, followed immediately by a delighted, uproarious giggle.

Sam covers his mouth to keep in his laughter. Steve's eyes widen, and he grins as Sam mimes blowing a raspberry on a baby's stomach and then pulling back and making an overly goofy face.

Another raspberry sound. Another peal of baby's laughter. Steve and Sam listen to this for a good three minutes or so, and when it tapers off and there's an almost-silent whining sound, Bucky's response is quiet enough that only Steve hears it:

"Okay. One more."

**

The baby likes TV, but they don't let him 'watch' too much. Most often they'll watch it with the baby over one of their shoulders, chewing on a dish towel or his rubber duck. He babbles sometimes now, quietly as if unsure of himself, and Sam checks the internet and says this is a good sign for his development. The cooing sounds evolve into little testing-the-waters syllables like 'deh' and 'mah' and 'nuh', and Bucky parrots them back as if they're a conversation. The eye contact comes more easily now, and the baby seems to like it, responding with big eyes and grins and more enthusiastic declarations of 'deh'.

**

"If you're tired, we can take him for a while."

Sam has said this every other day or so, and he's clearly ready to hear 'no' again. It's been weeks of this and Bucky needs some uninterrupted sleep. Some rest on his own body's schedule, not whenever the baby's resting for more than an hour or two at a time.

"Just a few hours," Bucky mumbles, and puts the baby on the multi-colored mat. He knocks the suspended toys gently, making them swing back and forth, and gets to his feet. He's pulling off articles of clothing before he even makes it to the hallway, let alone his room.

The door shuts. Sam turns to stare at Steve, whose eyebrows are already climbing up toward his hairline.

"He let us babysit," Sam murmurs, quietly enough not to be overheard.

Steve looks at Sam, and then the baby, whose legs are kicking up enthusiastically as he watches a bright yellow lion swing back and forth.

"He did."

Bucky sleeps four whole consecutive hours.

**

Tony offers to put them up in New York City, but Steve knows they can't go. Even if Bucky was good enough to travel - he's not - the baby shouldn't cross state lines. He's not perfectly clear on the legalities of holding on to an abandoned child in the first place, or where they are legally with having tried to declare the lost infant to both the police and CS, but he's pretty sure taking it out of the 'DMV' area could be misconstrued as a kidnapping or something.

Steve goes back to the dumpster on U Street. The laminated sign he made at Kinko's is still there, untouched except by the elements. Rainwater has slicked its way across the side of the 8x11 paper glued to the brick wall. "IF YOU LEFT SOMETHING IMPORTANT HERE, CALL:" His cell number is displayed below in huge font. He hasn't gotten any calls. It's been a month.

Steve tries not to think of what kind of situations lead to something like this happening. When he gets home, the baby is in Bucky's lap, sitting upright with a bit of help and watching a children's television program. His eyes are huge and beautiful, entranced. Steve tries not to think about what might have happened.

**

"We're gonna say 'pediatrician', this time, never 'doctor'," Sam says, and throws another bottle of formula into the cart. Behind them, Steve can hear the quiet whispers of two teenage girls who are theorizing that Steve and Sam are a couple. They have no idea, he thinks to himself.

"Yes, that was my fault." Steve inpsects a three-pack of suckers that's hung up amongst the diapers and determines that Bucky will not find them suitable. He continues to walk along the cart. "I'm going to say it, though."

"Okay. Practice."

"'Bucky,"" Steve says, lightly, "'Sam's sister knows a local pediatrician. We could bring the baby to get checked out on Thursday. He's got an open slot that day.'"

Sam, if Steve is completely honest, scares the shit out of him by pulling a completely dead yet murderous expression while pushing the cart along. "'He's safest in the house,'" Sam-who-is-pretending-to-be-Bucky says.

"'Y-yes, but Sam and I will go with him and be there the whole time. We can get him vaccines and things to make sure doesn't get sick.'"

"'The baby's fine.'"

"Jeez, Sam, you're kind of too good at that."

"I took an acting class in college. I'm multi-faceted. Now, c'mon."

"Right. Um. 'He's okay now, but you know babies. Sometimes they just get sick. If we can prevent that, we should.'"

Sam pretends to pout, looking away and brooding. Steve presses the advantage.

"'I know you want the baby to be safe, Buck. That's what we want, too.'"

**

It actually plays out more or less like it did in the grocery store.

**

At the pediatrician's, Steve pays cash up front and uses his best Captain America voice to remind the receptionist that they discussed the unique situation over the phone and that they cannot fill out paperwork for the child with anything close to accuracy. They still sit in the waiting room for quite some time. A toddler of about five sits across from them at a very short play table and sketches Steve with a crayon, adding wings to the sides of his head and a big star to his t-shirt. Sam finds nothing to skim through but a magazine called 'Highlights', which he ends up reading to the little girl next to him. The girl clearly has an awful case of the chicken pox. Steve holds the baby a little tighter, leaning in the opposite direction.

**

They're in the parking lot, having just hit the hour-and-a-half mark, before the baby starts falling apart from what Steve just knows is separation anxiety. The wibble starts before he's even strapped in to his child seat, and it's imploded into a full-on screaming wail by the time they pull in to the driveway. Bucky must hear, because he's pulling a hoodie on and coming out the front door to meet them, opening the back seat without even looking at either of them and freeing the baby from the carseat.

"Shhhh," Bucky croons, and murmurs something in Russian, bouncing him on his hip and carrying him back inside. Steve grabs the 'baby' bag from the back seat, watching as Bucky touches his forehead to the baby's and rubs soothing little circles on his back. "I know, I know. I know."

**

Sam finds a blog dedicated to the phenomenon. It's really a DC thing, although there's a little bit of a precedent from what happened in New York. Families from all over the area have similar stories. A mother in Woodbridge talks about how she took in her son's friend from school after his single father was killed in 'the SHIELD incident'. A young man in Silver Spring has taken in his younger cousin because the kid doesn't have any other family unless he flies all the way to South Korea... and he doesn't speak the language.

There's a small handful of other abandonment stories. One person says they heard their neighbor's baby crying for an entire evening straight before deciding something was wrong. When the super unlocked the doors they found the baby abandoned, most clothes and valuables missing. The parents had just... left. The person says they were a strange couple and he thinks they might have been Hydra. His wife is holding on to the baby because they can't get a straight answer from CS on what to do yet. The police are beyond overwhelmed. There are some phone numbers and recommendations for good sitters in the area.

**

"He's always kicking. We should get him one of those jumpy things."

"Jumpy things?" Steve looks up from the laundry he's sorting - one of his few but treasured victories as far as chores. Sam still doesn't let him cook more than every other night.

Sam gestures something nonsensical, then shakes his head. "It's like a harness suspended a few inches off the ground. They kinda... stand up on tiptoe and bounce around. There's toys all over it. I dunno. My nephew loved his."

The pictures on the internet fill in the gaps of Sam's explanation. It's expensive, but then again, so is everything, and Steve never spent much of his SHIELD paychecks on anything beyond rent and groceries. It arrives mostly assembled, and Steve puts the last bits together before Sam gets back from work. The baby seems to have a particular fondness for the rhino and chubby red birds, if the peals of giggles are anything to judge by. When Bucky laughs back in response Steve nearly trips over his own feet in the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Natasha visits. They prep Bucky beforehand, and after a little coaxing he does seem to remember the 'red-haired woman' he fought. There's a twitch of annoyance about something to do with his goggles, but he doesn't seem really upset, and he understands that she's an ally now. She comes bearing cake pops and a small, quirked smile.

Steve and Nat and Sam sit and talk over coffee for a long time - too long, long enough that Sam says he'll have to call in sick to work tomorrow. He doesn't look like he cares. Natasha is reminiscing about sliding down the highway on a broken-off car door with the two of them and there's something weirdly calming about it.

When they do finally hit the hay, Steve sharing Sam's bed so Natasha can have the couch. Steve sleeps better than he has in weeks. It's not the mattress, or even the calming sound of even breathing behind him. When he wakes drowsily around two in the morning because he can hear quiet Russian across the hall, two voices, he smiles, because from the tones he can tell that the baby's asleep and they're talking to each other.

**

It's two days later when the package comes, and Sam shows it to Steve with immense confusion: the return address shows it's clearly from a baby clothing company, but it's addressed to G. Miller.

"It's from Natasha," Steve says in a deadpan, and calls Bucky in from the other room.

Bucky, for once, opts to let them open it - the baby's acting a bit fussy, and bouncing him on Bucky's leg while he coos is on the very short list of things that will keep him from crying. Sam finds the scissors and reveals soft hats, onesies, and some pairs of pants with elastic waistbands and little bees and lions stitched on the backsides.

"Aww," Sam laughs, and pulls out a t-shirt with childlike writing on the front: DADDY LOVES ME!

Steve laughs too, and it takes them a moment to realize that Bucky's stopped moving and is staring at the shirt with a strange expression. After a few seconds, he gathers the baby up, stands, and walks back to his room.

Sam eyes Steve sidelong. "Help me out, here." It's what he always says when he can't decipher Bucky's mood. Steve's got no idea either, so he shrugs helplessly and tugs the box over to see what else is inside.

**

"You got arm drool."

"Oh. Thanks." Bucky sets the baby gently in his playpen, contorting his metal arm in different directions to locate the drool. Steve shares a 'he said thanks! That's new!' smile with Sam before getting interrupted by a tiny hand reaching through the gate and holding his pant leg.

"Bap!" The baby says insistantly, and following Bucky's lead, Steve nods in agreement and says it back. The baby makes a delighted noise and yanks on his pant leg until Steve obliges and sits down on the floor. "Baaaaaawa," the baby adds, and makes a brave attempt to use the gate to pull himself up onto his feet. It's a good try, but he tumbles harmlessly to the side instead.

"Baby, you are drunk." Sam makes a grave 'tsk' sound. "We gotta stop leaving you alone with Bucky. He's been sneaking booze into your formula again, hasn't he?"

Steve looks to the kitchen doorway to see if Bucky's going to stick his head out and glare, but there's no sight of him yet. "Bap," he says, deciding to play it safe and not join in.

Sam sticks his finger out so the baby can grab it with his other outstretched hand. "No more baby booze."

**

Sam scratches out Bucky's scribble of 'formula' so many times that Bucky eventually relents and starts writing what Sam always overwrites it with:

bb booze

**

"Any news from CS?"

Sam looks up from the paper. Bucky's never asked this before. "Um," he says. "No. I faxed them the little finger print things they did at the pediatrician's, but if they found a match I think they woulda called."

Bucky nods and disappears back into his room.

**

Steve coaxes him into coming to the grocery store with him. He can't think of a reason that doesn't sound like 'I worry about you', so he just says 'please' a lot, and Bucky finally relents.

Bucky's silent for most of it, and Steve can see him checking the exits and sizing up everyone who walks in and out, but they check out without incident, and Bucky only hides in his room for a day and a half to recuperate. Sam insists it's a win.

**

Natasha calls Steve and tells him what happened. Steve reacts badly, hangs up, calls her back, apologizes for snapping, and talks with her for a few minutes, trying to work out a roadmap. A couple roadmaps. Several plan Bs.

Steve gathers himself up and waits until Sam comes home, calling him and Bucky over and explaining it as simply as he can. He leaves out the police reports and the rap sheet and just boils it down to the essentials: the mother died when her office building collapsed. The father saw an opportunity to get out - he claimed the child died with his mother. The father is already two states away and facing new drug charges. There's no other family.

Sam and Steve both wait for a reaction out of Bucky - rage, defensiveness, something - but Bucky stares at the floor.

"Name."

"What?"

"His name." Bucky grits his teeth. "All that stuff Romanova found, she must've found his name."

"It's Todd."

**

It's much later, at four in the morning, when Steve gets prodded awake on the couch. Bucky is crouching next to him.

"Jesus, Mary and - what? What's wrong?"

"I want to talk." Bucky's expression is even more serious than usual. Steve pushes himself up on one arm, disentangling himself from the quilt.

"Todd," Steve says, and Bucky nods.

"His father sounds. Bad."

Steve considers mentioning the misdemeanors and intent to distribute charges. "Yes, he's. Not a good person."

"He tried to kill Todd."

Steve looks up at Bucky's face, examining, searching for the seething rage, but it's not there. Bucky's struggling somehow, like he's not sure if he's got the story right, or he's not sure he's reacting correctly. This happens when they try to watch emotional movies, Steve and Sam have found. Bucky's literally not sure when he's allowed to be angry or upset.

"He left him to die," Steve says slowly, correcting but agreeing at the same time. "But we don't... Getting revenge isn't going to help his son."

"I don't want to hurt him. I just." Bucky turns away so Steve can't see his face, it's dark enough but Bucky turns away to make sure, and something in Steve's stomach tightens. "Do we have to give him back?"

"I don't know, Buck."

"I don't want to if he's not good."

"I don't either."

**

**

**

They don't get to do Avengers cookouts enough. They have good luck, though, in the weather - there's hardly a cloud in the sky and it's a perfect 70 degrees. Clint is watching the grill with a worrying level of attention, flipping the burgers and brats with something sharp that is probably not meant to flip meat. Bruce and Sam are laughing about some TV show they both watch, Natasha listening with a smile. Bucky and Steve are sitting at the table talking.

Tony, fuck his life, is stuck on the phone.

"Yeah, but if you-" Tony sighs. "If you don't get a registry key to fix it we're going to see this same issue over and over again. No. No, don't trust him with that. I told you, the last time I checked there were privilege issues with the service account. I'm thiiiis close to pink-slipping that entire IT division and doing it myself. You can't see it, but I am pinching my fingers very. Close. Together."

Pepper begins nudging Tony's arm and does not stop, looking at something Tony can not see.

"I have to go. The head of the company needs something and also I'm tired of talking about this." Tony hangs up. "What?"

"Look," Pepper whispers.

Off to the side of the cookout, safely away from the grill, Todd is standing on wobbling feet with the help of one tiny hand wrapped around a bar of the baby gate. His face is contorted in concentration as he mumbles under his breath, staring at the picnic table:

"Bug-ee." He's getting increasingly louder. "Bug-ee. Bug-eeeeeeee."

Tony's eyes widen. "Oh my God."

"Get your phone out."

Tony does. He sets it to video while Pepper gestures frantically for Steve and Bucky's attention - they're having some quiet conversation over at the table, but it can't possibly be more important.

"Buh. Bug-ee."

Chapter Text

Todd seems impervious to attempts to get him to pick one langauge and stick with it - he just uses whichever word is shorter, generally. Luckily, that means English often wins. 'Milk' is shorter than 'moloko'. 'More' is shorter than 'boleye'. 'No' and 'neh' get used equally.

'Give' is shorter, but Todd still yells 'dah-VAAAAAT' thunderously when Clint dangles the green elephant toy just out of reach, jangling the bell inside, for too long without letting him have it. 'Blanket' is lost to 'od', which Natasha explains is short for 'odeyalo'.

(Steve is "Seeb" or just "See", depending on which way the wind is blowing.)

**

"Do you have a plan for when he starts preschool?"

Steve frowns at Pepper, then at Todd, who is staring at a pigeon out on the patio with rapt attention. "Not really, no. That's a long way off, isn't it?"

Pepper nods. "Two and a half at the very earliest. We've got plenty of time."

'We'. Todd became a 'we' thing almost as soon as he came to New York, Steve thinks. "You're right, though, we should maybe... start thinking about those things."

"Well, there's daycare down on floor 8 for Stark Industries employees, and I see no reason we can't slip our boy in there every so often to get him acclimated to other kids." She smiles and holds her hand above Steve's knee so Todd can grab at the stones on her rings. "But he's what, a year and a half?"

"Almost. Next month." Steve gathers Todd up to look at him at eye-level. "What do you think, little man? Do you want to start meeting other kids soon?"

"Seeb!"

**

Sam is the only person in the entire Tower who can get story time right. Nobody else is both willing and able to do the voices, and once Todd is introduced to the concept of voices during story time, he will not accept anything else.

Todd also insists on turning the pages. They're cardboard, with rounded edges, and a couple teeth marks here and there. Every couple of weeks Steve will wipe them down with disinfectant in an attempt to keep them from becoming complete germ havens.

**

The unwritten list of "who can babysit" grows faster than Steve would have expected. Bucky's becoming more... more himself, more relaxed, but for all his advances he still struggles with a lot of things involving protection and safety.

Steve is getting himself a second cup of coffee one morning when he sees Bruce sitting at the table, perusing some kind of CPR pamphlet.

"Surely you know that stuff already," Steve says. Anyone who goes within ten miles of SHIELD ends up getting trained on the basics.

"It's very different with infants," Bruce replies. "Have you read up on it?"

"Are you kidding? He made me read all that stuff as soon as he found it on the internet." Steve grins. They don't need to specify who they're talking about. It's clear.

"Well, it's my turn, apparently." The smile on Bruce's face is ... calm, maybe something near content. It's unusual for him.  "Natasha's taking Bucky out for some kind of dinner adventure tonight and I've got studying to do until then."

Bruce ends up handling Todd like a dream. No fussing, no accidents, no TV breaks needed. Back in the crib by seven, asleep by seven ten. Steve expects to see something like regret or sadness on Bruce's face when he comes back to the common area, but it's not there. He's satisfied. Maybe he feels this is just as much of a parent as he can be, and it's enough.

**

Clint pretends he's not very interested in the kid, but half the time Steve comes to pick Todd up from Natasha's room, Todd is bundled up in Clint's lap, getting read to.

**

Tony's not allowed to babysit. He's just not.

**

Thor, when he visits Midgard, treats him like a tiny treasure.

"Mortals have such frail and wondrous beginnings," he says, and kneels down on the floor. Todd is staring back with big eyes, squishy octopus toy forgotten; he's clearly mesmerized by the cape's movements and probably just how big Thor is. "What is the custom? Do I ask to hold him?"

Bucky's voice is flatter than normal: "You have super-strength." Steve cringes and elbows him, but he's not budging, clearly willing to risk social discomfort to get his way on this.

"Buck," Steve tries, but Thor waves it away, getting back to his feet.

"It is alright. A protective nature is a good trait in a father." That word. Damn it, Steve thinks. That's always an awkward- "Just promise me one thing. Do not... do not ever mislead him about where he came from. Let him know that... that he is from somewhere else, and that it does not matter to you."

Thor leaves to go speak to Jane in the other room. Steve watches him go, wanting to follow, to say something, but can't.

**

Todd starts feeling progressively left out of the pool parties, and it's when he starts to push his playpen closer and closer to the edge of the pool that they decide it's time to get some inflatable stuff.

Sam finds some ridiculous inflatable tube thing with a built in seat, and Todd clearly hates it the second they put him in until he realizes he's being gently lowered into the water. The crying stops, and his eyes grow huge, legs flicking out and a weird grin spreading across his face.

(Half an hour later when they decide they really need to pull him out and reapply sunscreen, he begins crying instantly.)

Chapter Text

"Buggy!"

"Hmm?"

"Buggy hug."

"Okay."

Steve peeks over the top of his book to watch as Bucky makes an exaggerated swoop in toward Todd, making him giggle. His arms curl around him gently, but he makes growling noises as if he were squeezing him fiercely. Todd giggles louder.

"Seeb hug!"

Bucky shakes his head. "Steve's reading, Todd."

"Seeb hug," Todd says again, like maybe Bucky didn't hear him correctly the first time. Steve slides the bookmark into place and sets it down on the couch, smiling, and reaches both hands out. Bucky hands Todd over so Steve can take him and arrange him in his lap.

"What do we say?"

"Peas."

"Very good." Steve bends down to give Todd a small hug, somewhat amused at the chubby arms that lift up around his neck as if to hug him back. He's starting to figure out the basics of a reciprocal hug. One day he'll even be big enough for them. "Want to go back to Bucky now?"

"Nyet." Todd leans over precariously and smacks his palm against the paperback, indicating. "Story."

"That's a grown-up book, Todd, not one of yours."

Todd makes a quiet pleading noise.

"You wouldn't like it. It's boring."

"Wan' story." Todd looks up. "Wan' story peas."

Bucky, still sitting on the floor surrounded by toys, actually grins a little. "Looks like you're reading Dostoyevsky to him."

"I finished that yesterday. This is is a biography on Lincoln."

"So add dragons."

**

"Who's that in the picture?"

"Boose."

Bucky nods and points to another. "And who's that in this picture?"

"Big Boose."

"Very good."

"Big Boose gween."

"Yes. He turns green. Very good." Bucky scrolls through the tablet photo album. "Who's that?"

"FOR!"

"Yes. And him?"

"Sam!"

"And her?"

"Natama!"

"And next to her?"

"Kin."

"And who's these two?"

"Tomy."

"And?"

Todd makes a face, struggling. "Bepper."

Bucky snickers and kisses the top of his head. "Close enough, kiddo."

**

Sam finds some online parenting forums with good advice and forwards it on to Steve. There's subforums which are dedicated to their own specific topics, and he 'subscribes' to several so that he can see updates. Advice on kids who are behind schedule on walking, picky eaters, picky eaters that seem to want to try to eat everything but food...

He finds one with TV show and movie recommendations for 'non-nuclear parents'. This turns out to mean a lot of single parents and same-sex couples who don't want to show their kid nothing but shows where the kid has one mom and one dad. Steve decides it's probably a pretty good idea, less for Todd's benefit and more for Bucky's. The whole Tower knows to avoid the word 'father', and Steve's best guess is that it reminds Bucky that he isn't Todd's, even with the paperwork Pepper put together.

(Natasha insists her trip to visit the birth father was very civil and that he signed his parental rights away with no fuss. Steve knows that could well be true considering how badly the man apparently wanted to be rid of Todd to begin with, but he also knows Natasha, and it's not completely out of the realm of possibility that she got his signatures and then broke both his legs or something.)

The forums also have a lot of opinionated people arguing the benefits and risks of breastfeeding versus formula. It's... more intense than Steve would have expected that discussion to be.

**

The patio and the roof are the same old scenery, and Pepper finally takes the initiative and buys a stroller. Bucky decides it's alright as long as he's always involved in the outing. The security risk is worth it for how infatuated Todd is with everything. Especially dogs - Steve has never noticed how many people walk their dogs in parks until he's with a baby that insists on stopping to look at (and hopefully pet) every last one of them.

"Sorry," Steve says, gently extricating Todd's grabby hand from a very patient retriever's ear.

"It's okay," the owner says, laughing. "I've got two kids at home, so she's used to it. Knows he means well." She moves on down the path, shooting Steve a small smile he's used to by now. The 'hi, I think you're a gay dad with an adopted child and I think that's really sweet' smile. Steve has never felt it necessary to translate the meaning of that smile to Bucky.

"Todd, you have to be gentler with dogs." Bucky is kneeling in front of the stroller and looking Todd in the eyes. "It's very important. Sometimes it hurts them, okay? And they get scared and might hurt you by accident."

"Doggy," Todd exclaims, already pointing to another one.

**

During another excursion, a couple at another table at the cafe tells them they shouldn't be giving their son a stuffed toy with so much pink. (Mr. Squid, as it happens.) Bucky actually has to pull Steve away from that one, because Steve has read up on modern academic discourse involving gender roles and he has a lot of opinions about where these people can shove their stupid rules about color.

**

Jarvis is an actual godsend. Todd has fewer meltdowns than he used to, but when he needs 'od' or a specific toy, Jarvis can track it down in seconds, and it saves a lot of heartache. One day Steve, Sam, Bucky and Todd come back to a trip from the park and Jarvis literally texts Steve to quietly inform him that they left that morning with a giant stuffed lion and did not return with it, and that this may become a critical issue, because Todd named the lion 'Rah-Rah' yesterday and will likely notice it missing before long.

Steve really appreciates Jarvis.

**

Jarvis calls everyone to the dining room early one morning. Clint is just wearing boxers with obnoxious cartoon characters all over them, Bruce still has a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, and Tony's shirt is on backwards.

Bucky does it again for them as they stream in, over and over: the room is silent for him as he places Todd five feet away, steps back, and stretches his arms out. Todd wobbles unsteadily at first, but stumbles forward, a couple steps, then a few more. When he falls, he mumbles to himself under his breath, wobbling back up, until he's to Bucky.

Pepper sniffles.

**

"Why always small Boose?"

Four words put together. Steve's head snaps up like he heard a gunshot, shocked.

Bruce, who is bouncing Todd on his knee, tilts his head. "Small?"

"Small pink Boose." Todd puts one palm inelegantly against Bruce's cheek in illustration, kind of smacking Bruce more than he probably means to.  "No big gween Boose."

"Oh! Oh." Bruce smiles. "Well, ah. When I'm happy, I'm small and pink. And when I see you, I'm always happy!"

Todd considers this for a while, working it out with an almost comically serious face. "Okay," he says finally. "Snack, peas?"

**

Todd starts getting way better at walking unassisted.

Way better.

Sam calls them 'the zooms', and the term catches on. Sometimes Todd's fine sitting surrounded by toys, or in someone's lap, or steadying himself on a table leg to look up at what the grownups are doing.

But sometimes, he gets the zooms.

Around the furniture, down the hall, into the elevator which is blessedly sentient and does not function for him, to the patio doors that conveniently slide shut as Todd starts to approach them.

"Thank you, Jarvis," Steve pants, scooping Todd up in his arms. "Todd, what do we say about the patio?"

"Bird!" Todd explains, pointing out the window.

"No grownup, no patio."

Todd scowls and points more vigorously to the bird.

"Rule-breakers don't get cookies," Steve reminds him conspiratorially. Bucky comes in, frowning.

"What was Todd doing?"

"NUH-UH!" Todd yells preemptively, less than convincing.

"You know rule-breakers don't get cookies," Bucky says. Todd makes a face of utter despair.

"Nyeeeeeeeet."

"Do we want to be rule-breakers?"

"Nyeeeeeeeeeet."

"Will you do it again?"

"Nnnn."

"What was that?"

"Nyet."

"Good." Bucky grunts, satisfied, and reaches out to take him. "Ready for bath time?"

Todd looks suspicious. "...ducks?"

Bucky nods solemnly. "Ducks."

Chapter Text

Bucky and Steve are out to dinner when they get the text. They leave a wad of cash on the table and book it home.

"Ear infection, I think." Bruce is holding a wailing Todd against his shoulder, looking both professional in his diagnosis and completely worn thin. The screaming is loud. "He's - I need to -"

Steve takes him wordlessly, unable to help from noticing the green tinge in Bruce's eyes. "Go relax," he says, and Bruce nods gratefully, leaving. Clint comes in to see what the fuss is about.

"We taking Junior to the ER?"

"We don't need to do that," Bucky says tightly, but he's uncertain. Todd won't give him eye contact, won't stop yelling, looks exhausted to the point of irrational anger and self-pity. He's definitely running a fever.

Clint shrugs. "I bet Tony's got an on-call kid doctor by now."

"They're called pediatricians."

"Yeah. Those. Kid doctors. Jarvis? Got a phone number?"

Jarvis does, and the man arrives in under thirty minutes, but Bucky doesn't get hardly any sleep for the next three days. It's hell, but Steve takes shifts and they discover, purely by accident, the completely inexplicable soporific effects of The Lion King. Todd never makes it to the stampede scene.

**

"You understand why it's better for Sam to drop him off, right?"

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I'm not stupid," he says, gesturing to his own distinctly white face, and then to Steve's.

"I actually meant that Sam's not included in every history text book published since the 1950's, but yeah, there's that too." Steve sighs. "Okay. We should let Sam get going."

"Just - gimme one more second."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, but Sam doesn't make a face, just hands Todd over so Bucky can hold him to his chest and press his nose to his.

"<You're gonna be good, right?>" Bucky says it softly, in Russian.

"<Yes.>" Todd is distracted, grabbing a handful of Bucky's hair and inspecting the ends.

"<Okay. You're going with Sam.>"

"<Yes.>"

"<Be good.>"

"Okay, Bucky."

Bucky glares at Steve but hands Todd over to Sam, who grabs his bag and heads for the elevator. The employee daycare is on the eighth floor, far for the Tower but ridiculously close as daycare goes, but from Bucky's expression you'd think they were dropping Todd off somewhere in Maine for a few days.

"It's gonna be okay, Buck."

Bucky looks out the window, arms crossed. "I know."

"Promise me you won't just watch the eighth floor video feeds all day."

"I won't."

"Jarvis, don't let him."

"Understood, sir."

**

Sam dutifully brings back a slightly teary Todd, handing him off to Bucky before pulling a note out of his pocket and reading it aloud.

"Congratulations on your child's first day at Stark Industries Daycare. Your child was:" He pauses to indicate the line break. "Very shy at first, but made friends and played respectfully. Was quiet during nap time. Ate his snack. Was sometimes difficult to understand."

"<Remember, we said English.>"

"<Not for Jar,>" Todd argues, pouting. He has the expression he gets when they have to leave the park to go home but Todd's still having fun. Steve suspects he was crying because he had to get taken away from his new friends, but he's not going to voice that suspicion within earshot of Bucky.

Bucky smirks. "<Not supposed to ask Jarvis for things at daycare. Ask the grownups.>"

"<Jar is grownup.>"

"English now?" Sams asks, hopefully.

Bucky actually tilts his head to apologize. "Ask the grownups in the room when you need things. Not the robot in the ceiling."

"Okayyyy." Todd smooshes his face into Bucky's shoulder, heaving an exhausted sigh. "Rules." He says it as a complete sentence, and Bucky nods, understanding completely.

**

Todd actually transitions into twice-a-week daycare really well. Pepper, who presumably never stops reading, says it's probably because he has a rotating support system at home and doesn't need one specific person to feel secure.

"Plus," she adds, "Todd counts Jarvis, and Jarvis is always there."

"Why do I feel concerned he's going to find the world outside really lonely when he grows up?" Steve makes a face.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Because you always look for the raincloud in every silver lining. Relax, Cap. The kid's got world-class nannies down there and more adults taking care of him at home than I have doctorates. It's every helicopter parent's dream."

**

"Alright, who's teaching him Polish?"

The group at the table looks up with confused innocence, and Steve makes himself take a breath.

"Bruce, I know the Spanish is you."

Bruce pretends to be very interested in his oatmeal.

"And I know some Spanish, so it works out. But Polish I do not know, and if I'm going to be Todd's -- if -- if I'm going to be taking care of him, I need to know what the hell he's saying."

The group chews their breakfast for a while, admitting nothing, until Natasha gets up to refill her juice.

"What'd he say?" She asks.

"He wants a... pomara-something?"

"An orange." Natasha shakes her head. "Clint, quit polyglotting the baby."

Clint grimaces. "Snitch."

"дебил."

**

They manage to keep it down to English at daycare, which is the most important thing.

**

Sam puts Todd on the floor and pulls the new note out of his pocket, reading aloud as always: "Today, your child was." A beat. "Energetic. Talkative. Sometimes had trouble listening to instructions. Established positive social bonds."

Bucky lights up a little. "Todd, are you makin' friends?"

Todd looks up from the dinosaur toy he's already preoccupied with. "MABEL," he shouts loudly for some reason, and then quiets up and goes back to walking the dinosaur across the floor.

The three grownups exchange glances. "Is Mabel nice?" Steve hazards.

Todd talks quietly to himself under his breath, rearing the dinosaur back on its haunches.

"Sounds serious," Sam deadpans.

**

They don't post anything online, but everyone has pictures on their secure phones. Steve's favorite is actually really blurry, one of Todd making an expansive, arms-out curled-fingers 'I am a monster' pose while Natasha has her hands clapped over her mouth to mime shock.

Sam's is one of Todd sprawled out in a belly flop on the floor, laughing, surrounded by stuffed animals. Tony's is a pretty old one, of Todd gnawing on a prototype Iron Man toy and looking at the camera with a confused expression. Pepper's is of Todd curled up on Bucky's chest on the couch, both of them asleep.

Chapter Text

Steve gathers Todd up and heads down to Tony's labs. "What's up?"

"New helmet I want you to try. Here." Tony holds out an unpainted, slightly differently-shaped version of the Captain America helmet, and Steve nods.

"Tony's gonna take you for a sec," he informs Todd, putting him on the ground instead of passing him directly. (God, Tony is strange.) Todd sleepily reaches his arms up and makes grabby hands, and Tony grudgingly accepts the handoff by putting the helmet on the worktable and picking up the kid.

"He's half an hour from N - A - P time, so he shouldn't be too much of a trouble... is this reinforced?" Steve fiddles with the strap, noticing the way the panels at the nape of his neck aren't as flexible.

"You did nearly get a concussion on the last mission," Tony reminds him. He tugs Todd against his right shoulder and, remembering that's the one he has the oil rag on, readjusts. "I can make it a little more flexible if I really need to, but what you're wearing could take almost twice as strong a hit and disperse the -"

"JAR!"

Todd is pointing excitedly at DUM-E, who looks over its shoulder from a rewiring project with as much of a 'who, me?' expression as a faceless robot can possibly have.

"No, buddy, that's not Jarvis." Steve smiles. "That's a different robot."

"ROBOT!" Todd amends, no enthusiasm lost.

This seems to win Tony over a little. "That's DUM-E," he enunciates, and looks from the robot to the baby's face. "You like him?"

"Dum!" Todd is already wriggling fiercely to get put down, clearly wanting to go over and inspect.

"Noo, nono buddy, there's - there's stuff on the floor. DUM-E, c'mere." Tony flips him forward and uses a more secure two-armed approach to keep him in place while he kneels down, letting him reach out a bit towards the equally curious robot.

"Hiiiii, Dum. Hi. Hi."

DUM-E squeaks mechanically in response, hunching down a bit and extending a prong for Todd to grab.

**

The zoo is an inevitability. Bucky puts it off as long as possible, keeping Todd's animal obsession sated with stuffed toys and carefully selected story books, but finally the "z" word comes up in daycare and Todd. Must. Go.

"Okay. Just." Bucky rubs the back of his neck, head tilted down, embarassed. Maybe a little ashamed. "What if. What if you and Sam take him."

"Of course," Steve says, because it's not a hardship to go, and Bucky is ridiculous for feeling like he has to participate in every damn thing. Even if it's hard. Beyond hard, probably. Bucky doesn't talk about it with any of them, he reserves that for the specialist, but Steve knows 'crowds' and 'noises' and 'yelling' are all still on Bucky's list. The tension's nearly palpable sometimes when the park is too packed.

"I'm sorry," Bucky says quickly, as if unable to stop himself. "I. I'm gonna. Work on."

"Bucky, you don't need to-"

"I'm getting better," Bucky promises.

Steve pauses. "Of course you are." It's indisputible. Bucky started out at rock bottom, unspeaking, untrusting, and it's barely been a year yet.

Bucky nods, keeps staring at the floor, finally walks out without saying anything else.

**

A lot of the animals are sleeping, and some of them are hidden away in unviewable parts of their enclosures, but Todd is in what Sam decides is 'Epic Levels of Baby Heaven'. He smooshes his face against the glass in the reptile house, watching a boa constricter uncoil and travel along the length of a thick branch.

"Sake," he whispers, awed.

"He's pretty scary, huh, buddy?" Sam squats down to look with him.

"Preddy." Todd presses a smooch against the glass, which Steve finds both completely unhygenic and utterly precious.

**

Sam is possibly more entertained in the aviary than Todd is, but Todd is delighted to be held up so he can see the birds better in the higher branches, twitching and fluttering around. He likes the brightly-colored ones the best. He's flapping his arms to get the bird's attention when Steve overhears a homophobic slur muttered somewhere behind him. Having known this day would come, Steve smiles patiently and wraps an arm around Sam's waist, leaning into him a little as Todd continues to flap.

Sam looks over at him, an eyebrow lifted. "Uh, sup?"

"Just enjoying my day off with my beautiful husband and our perfect child," Steve says fondly.

Sam stares at him a second, but it doesn't take him long to catch on. "Well, your beautiful husband wants an overpriced soda, so get your fine ass to looking at that map and find me a refreshment stand."

**

Steve hears a peal of laughter from the common room, then another. Bucky. He looks up when he hears the patio doors slide open, revealing a grinning Bucky encouraging Todd to follow behind him.

"C'mon," he says, beckoning Todd to come stand in front of Steve and Pepper. "Go on, tell 'em."

Todd stands with his arms at his sides like he's ready to do something, but it's clear he's already forgotten what it was. Bucky prompts him: "Todd, what's next week?"

Todd brightens immediately. "My burpday!"

**

Bucky, with Darcy's help, makes cupcakes for daycare. (Darcy shows Bucky how to swirl the dyes together to make it multi-colored. Bucky holds Todd up to see the mixing bowl and Todd is convinced from then on that Darcy is magic.)

The party itself is actually a really small affair, because Bucky and Steve both insist that huge events for tiny children is a ridiculous modern notion that they refuse to allow. Tony insists that it's not that expensive to get a fondant cake in the shape of a triceritops, but Bucky says homemade will be fine, and they compromise on some balloons. They're from some speciality place that makes them in different sizes and shapes, and Todd is absolutely fascinated by a large navy blue one with stars that is almost as big as he is. He tugs on the ribbon over and over, bringing it down to hold it and look through it before letting it float back up to the ceiling.

Steve thought 'party city' was a joking fictional place, but apparently it's a store, because the bags Clint and Natasha come back with it have the words emblazoned on the side. They lay out robot-themed napkins and paper plates as if they never heard the 'don't overdo it' speech Bucky made - apparently they did not buy the robot pinata, and thus they were restrained -  and when Todd gets into the bags and finds small cheap wind-up robots in different colors that stumble forward and make little sparks, he squeals in delight.

Chapter Text

The doctor's visit on the medical floor involves shots, and even with the promise of chocolate later, Todd is a miserable wreck by the end. Steve brings him immediately up to Bucky, who he can tell is still kicking himself for not going, and hands him off, listening to the soft crying whines subside just a little as soon as he's passed over.

"Hey, you were really brave today," Bucky murmurs, rubbing Todd's back.

"Hurt," Todd whines. "Hurt a lot."

"Does it still hurt?" Bucky asks, biting his lip.

Todd sniffles. "Lil bit."

Bucky kisses the top of his head and holds him close, a guilty line forming between his brows as he sits on the couch and rocks him a little. The fact that Todd has decided this is not an acceptable 'big boy' activity falls by the wayside, and soon he's sniffling but otherwise quiet. Steve walks to the kitchen to put a sippy cup of juice together.

**

Todd rebounds after his nap, chatty and giggling, and Bucky's so overjoyed with this he asks if Todd wants to go to the toy store to pick something out for being such a brave guy.

"YES YES YES PEAS YES PEAS!"

Steve laughs as Tony sticks his head out from around the corner, eyebrow arched.

"Did you tell him I'm going to genetically engineer him a t-rex? Because Pepper told me I wasn't allowed to."

Bucky grins and gathers Todd into his arms. "Tony, can we borrow a car?"

**

Toys R Us is a fabulous treat for Todd and an absolute nightmare for Bucky.

"You didn't tell me it'd be like this," Bucky whispers, looking at the overlit aisles and the children hollering in shopping carts.

"I didn't know," Steve hisses back apologetically, eyes darting. "I've been buying everything online. There's no screaming on Amazon."

"Oooooh," Todd's enthusing, already drawn in by a display of summer outdoor toys. There are hula hoops which are far too big for him, but he insists on giving them a try anyway, unable to even get the entire ring up off the floor.

"Boken," he declares. "Tomy fix?"

"I don't think so, buddy." Steve hides a grin behind his hand. "It'll, um. It'll work when you're older."

"Oh." Todd gets no opportunity to be disappointed or affronted at the idea that he is too small for something - he moves on to ask what the watering can does, and then what the inflatable pool is and where the diving board goes.

"Our bougie child," Steve murmurs, and that gets at least a little bit of a laugh from Bucky.

"Silver spoon," Bucky agrees.

**

There are shiny packs of different kinds of playing cards, and neither Bucky nor Steve know exactly how the games are supposed to be played. The age suggestions on packaging are a huge help, though, and Steve navigates Todd from the display toward an aisle full of Lego sets.

"LEGO!" Todd shouts in triumph, and Steve laughs.

"Yeah, lots. Indoor voice, remember?"

"Indoor," Todd echoes, biting his lip as if to physically keep his mouth from opening too far. He tugs a small box down to investigate the picture on the front, accidentally knocking over the other one in the process. "Oops."

Steve kneels down. "We'll clean up when we're done looking, okay?"

In another aisle, a young boy is screaming something about something called Bakugan. Bucky comes over and stands above Steve. "Air," he says, curtly.

"Huh?"

"Going to. Get some. Air." Just as Bucky says it, an unattended three-year-old with a foam sword barrels past them.

"Yeah," Steve says, and nods, making sure Todd is distracted with the boxes and not noticing Bucky's face. "My phone's on. Text me if you can't find us again."

Bucky nods and turns on his heel, almost running out, and Todd looks up at Steve. "Buggy go home?"

"No, just outside for a second. He's coming back. Do you like this? Star Wars?" He rattles the Lego box.

**

There are aisles with action figures, and the boxes aren't enclosed, meaning one can touch and move the toy at least somewhat, and Steve can pick out the ones he knows Todd will like, handing them to him so he can play with the movable arms and make quiet sound effects under his breath. Todd seems disinterested in picking one item and bringing it to the checkout and leaving - he wants to investigate the entire store. Steve is actually enjoying himself too much, vicariously through Todd, to mind. He pulls out his phone.

Steve Rogers: It's going to be a while. He's having fun, not worried. Take as long as you need.

Bucky Barnes: ok

Bucky Barnes: thank you

"Dat way?" Todd is tugging on the hem of Steve's t-shirt, pointing to another aisle.

"What do we do first?"

"Keen up." Todd picks up the action figure and hands it to Steve to put back on the peg.

**

There are educational toys with buttons that make different farm animal sounds, or say colors, or numbers, or letters. Todd seems very unimpressed by them, since none of them talk back to him.

"No Jar?"

"No, not in these."

"Boken."

"No, just different."

Todd makes a dismissive 'pssh' sound Steve is pretty sure he picked up from Sam and uses two wobbly toddler hands to put the toy back on the shelf.

**

There are Furbies, which Steve is sure he remembers Tony explaining once as a faux-AI toy from the 1990s, but there's a whole display. Past that is a bright pink aisle of Barbies, and Todd wanders through it with a strange sort of look on his face. Most of the boxes have clear plastic on the front that prevent Todd from bending the arms or making them move at all, and this appears to be a source of disappointment.

"There are some over there you can play with," Steve says, pointing a little ways on. The non-Barbie dolls, including some soft cloth ones that might be more age appropriate, draw Todd's attention. He 'zooms' over, head cocked at something called an 'American Girl Doll' and starting to reach for it on tip-toe. It's out of reach.

"Peas, Steeb?" He gestures.

"Be careful, it looks like it could break." Steve takes the doll off the shelf and hands it to Todd, who grabs it with both hands and looks at it with interest for several moments. Steve looks around and notices a shelf of something called 'Monster High' that appears to be school-aged Barbies with supernatural abilities and particularly skimpy clothing. He sighs.

"Oh-kay." Todd sets the box down on the floor and moves on, grabbing a cloth doll with yarn hair from a display and holding her up. "Baby."

"Hi." Bucky is suddenly next to him, and apparently in Accidental Stealth Mode - Steve jumps and Bucky winces apologetically. "How're we doing?"

"Good. Todd isn't deciding yet, he's just. Looking around." Steve gestures to Todd, who is still holding the cloth doll up and talking to her.

"Okay." Bucky kneels down and picks up the box on the floor, putting it back on the shelf. "Sorry, about."

"If you apologize again I'll h-i-t you when I'm sure Todd's not looking." Steve says it in a serene, warm tone that makes Bucky roll his eyes. "Go help him reach high up stuff."

Bucky smiles and does as instructed, talking to Todd about different doll beds and cradles and high chairs. The brushes are not particularly interesting to him, but the word is, so much so that Todd begins wandering from item to item going "b'ush b'ush b'ush b'ush" under his breath like it's something he's trying to remember to find at the supermarket. Steve chuckles.

**

"Why kye-ing?"

"Hm?" Bucky looks down at Todd, who's got his hand on a tricycle he's way too small for but is looking over at another family. The boy in the shopping cart is crying, constantly checking if his parents are paying attention, and pulling down every toy he can reach.

"Ky... Kw..." Todd points. "Sad."

"Not really sad. He's throwing a tantrum," Steve says mildly, and is secretly pleased to see Todd's judgmental frown. Tantrums, he has been told, are for little kids who want something. Big kids use words when they want something.

Bucky rubs the side of his head. "Todd, do you think you know what you want?" The man looks like he's hitting his limit, and Steve can't blame him. They both have enhanced hearing, after all. This place is... intense. There's a talking cat not far off whose button is apparently stuck to 'meow forever'.

"Um." Todd lets go of the bike, wandering back towards the bouncy balls, then veering right, back to the doll aisle. He points to the American Girl doll but then stops, frowning, and walks over to the cloth doll. He makes this trip several times.

Bucky quirks his lips. "One of those?" he prompts, and Todd mumbles 'uh-huh' and walks back and forth a bit more. Steve grabs the American Girl one off the shelf and kneels down so Todd can see it better and make a more informed purchase. Todd's 'serious thinking' face is on and it's way too cute.

"Determined to make sure he ends up like them," a man murmurs a few yards away, and when the meaning hits Steve, he almost drops the doll. He sets it down instead, rising to his feet and turning to stare at a father in his 40's who is talking to a woman who must be his wife. The baby in the stroller is oblivious.

Steve is about to ask that the man please repeat that for him, but all of a sudden the man's eyes are widening, pupils shrinking in fear, and he's pushing the stroller away toward the exit. Steve watches them leave like they're a threat.

A few moments pass. Steve takes a few calming breaths and turns to Bucky. "Did you do the glare?" he asks.

Bucky is looking at him like it's taking every bit of willpower not to break out into laughter. "You did," he manages, and mimes what Steve just did, squatting and then rising to his full height and turning and then giving an exaggerated hateful death stare. Steve winces.

"I didn't - I didn't mean to -" Steve rubs his face. "Todd?"

"Hi."

"Todd, we're buying both. C'mon, let's go to the register. You've been very good today."

"BOF!?"

"Indoor voice, Todd."

"Bof?"

Chapter Text

Confusingly, both dolls are named 'Natama'. The cloth doll does have red yarn hair, but the packaging says her name is 'Anne'. Todd is very firm, though. Natama it is. For both dolls.

Natama, Natama, and the dinosaurs go on adventures on the patio. They get their own Goldfish snacks (one each) during snacktime. Occasionally one of the Natamas or one of the dinosaurs falls behind the couch and the others will go on a rescue mission.

"I'm glad to see you're doing okay," Pepper says mildly to Nat one afternoon, when she's walking by with a magazine.

"Hm?"

"You were trapped in a sofa cushion fort for nearly an hour this morning," Bruce explains over his tablet. "A mastadon made a daring leap from the coffee table to save you."

"Very dramatic," Pepper adds solemnly.

Natasha grins and keeps walking.

**

Sam brings Todd home from daycare with a card in an envelope. In bright lettering, it invites Todd to Mabel's third birthday.

"An older woman," Sam stage-whispers, drawing a laugh from Bucky.

"Todd," Bucky asks, "you wanna go to Mabel's birthday party next week?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?" Bucky asks, beating Steve to it.

"Yes peas." Todd wobbles a little on his feet, rubbing his nose. He looks nervous.

"This crush is for real," Sam murmurs under his breath, amused and impressed. "Okay. The apartment's in Red Hook. I've got this one."

"You sure?" Steve asks. "I can-"

"No, dude," Sam interrupts. "One? More than five minutes hanging out with you and people will clock you for Cap. Two? Mabel's mom does not wear a ring."

Steve's about to ask what that means before he sees Sam's expression. He tilts his head. "You've run into Mabel's mom a few times during drop-off and pick-up, I take it?"

"Mabel's mom usually picks her up right after yoga on Wednesdays and Fridays," Sam singsongs, and Bucky's eyebrows go up a little.

"Oh," he says. "Those... pants."

"Yes, my 1940's friend, those pants. Trust me. I've got the kid's birthday party. I am all over the birthday party."

**

Sam comes back with a gift bag and a phone number. The smugness is radiating off him in waves.

**

Cloth Natama comes with Todd to the park. He introduces her to the other children and almost (almost) lets them play with her.

"She's shy," he says finally, pulling the doll behind his back and avoiding the disappointed gaze of the young girl in the blue t-shirt. "You can play wif tricerrops."

That turns out to be a good compromise. Sam and Steve unwind on the nearby bench and watch the day go by.

**

Sam checks his phone. "Li's dad wants to know if we can do a playdate on Saturday."

Bucky tilts his head. "Li from daycare?"

Sam nods.

Bucky shrugs. "If you've got time." His mouth goes into a slant. "I... feel kind of bad. Steve can't go because he's famous, so. It's always you."

"Would you laugh at me if I told you I kinda enjoy it? Usually all the parents hang out and drink wine and talk about Game of Thrones. It's really pretty nice."

Steve considers this. "That could be worse. Actually, now that I think of it, I've surprised Natasha hasn't jumped in and stolen that job."

"If she wasn't famous now for her Congress smackdown, she'd probably go." Sam leans back and smirks. "More Zinfandel for meeee." 

**

It's not that Todd plays particularly roughly - it's that the American Girl doll had an '8+' age recommendation that Steve studiously ignored when purchasing it.

When Clint carries Todd into Steve's room without knocking, Todd is clutching American Natama, looking like he might pass out from heartbreak.

"Her leg," Clint says, 'I'm really sorry' written all over his face and looking kind of pale.

"Seeeeeb," Todd whispers, voice wavering. Tears are welling in his eyes and his lower lip is quivering. "I boke her..."

Natama's right leg is dislocated somehow, hanging loosely in its socket and sporting a thick crack up along the shin. Her shoe is missing.

"I boke her..."

"It was an accident, Todd, it's okay." Steve gets up and takes Todd from Clint, who's still mouthing I'M SO SORRY.

Todd pushes his free hand against his eye, pushing the tears away. "I hurt my fren."

Looking back on the situation later, Steve identifies that moment as when something in him snaps. "No," he says firmly, and holds Todd a little tighter. "Don't cry, honey. It's going to be fine."

"Nyet." His lower lip is quivering and he's holding the doll so firmly, but so awkwardly, as if he's scared that holding her wrong will damage her further.

"It is. I promise. We- we're going to go find Tony, and he's going to fix her."

Todd looks up with a distraught expression with just the tiniest glimmer of hope. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve can see Clint bite back a curse before racing ahead to find Tony.

**

By the time Steve and Todd make it to the labs, some large and slightly dangerous project has been slung haphazardly to the side of the room.

"Pay no attention to the pile of junk in the corner," Tony says, and dons a hugely unnecessary white lab coat and pair of work gloves. "This is a Natama Repair Facility and I am your specialist. Bring 'er here."

Todd hands her over, and Steve rubs Todd's back and talks to him while they wait. The guilt in him is slightly overwhelming - Steve wishes this hadn't happened during Bucky's therapy hour. He's got the magic cuddles and while Steve's are good, they're still second best by a mile.

"Scalpel, Nurse Barton. Ow! Ow. Okay, never mind. Jeez."

It only involves about three minutes of reattaching, epoxy, sanding, and repainting, but at Clint's whispered suggestion Tony also wraps a small piece of bandage around the repaired leg's 'cut'. 

At last, Tony hands Natama back over to Todd.

"She's gonna need two days of bedrest," Tony says solemnly. "Think you can keep her from adventuring for that long?"

Todd pulls her to his chest, mumbling something into her hair and nodding.

Chapter Text

"It's actually very simple."

Bucky scowls. "So explain it, then."

Steve allows himself one long, put-upon sigh just to annoy Bucky a little further, then squats down to point at the upper left corner of the construction paper attached to the fridge. "Giant green circle with a pink circle inside."

"Bruce," Bucky says. "Duh."

"Yes." Steve moves his finger over to the black squiggle surrounded by gray squiggles. "Tony."

"Wh- oh. The bots."

"Yes." On to the orange rectangle. "Natasha."

"Why's she orange?"

"Because her hair is," Steve says patiently.

Bucky sighs and nods, waiting for the next one.

"You're closest to him. Brown squiggle for your hair. Yellow one's me. Brown one's Sam." Steve ticks them off his fingers. "Clint's the pink squiggle with the black horizontal line."

"Why?"

"His sunglasses." Steve looks for the one he hasn't found yet. "And the pink and yellow near Tony, that's Pepper."

"And the blue oval at the bottom?"

"That..." Steve squints, assessing. "Is his stegosaurus figure."

**

It's about a month from Todd's third birthday when Bucky has his first mission. They're about to wind down for the night when Jarvis flashes the lights and begins speaking in all rooms:

"Dr. Victor von Doom has incited a small rebellion outside the Romanian borders and gained control of a significant weapons cache. Please assemble by the Quinjet ASAP."

Pepper gets up and immediately starts putting Clint's half-finished dinner in tupperware for him. Most of the table stands and begins heading out, and Steve is almost too preoccupied to notice Todd staring at Bucky's back.

"Bucky goes to work now?"

Bucky turns around, eyebrows lifting and sharing a look with Steve. Shit. They'd only decided this a few days ago, and hadn't gotten around to explaining it to Todd yet. (Doom had a knack for really shitty timing in his dominating Europe schemes.) "Yeah, buddy." He bites his lip. "I go to work now too."

Todd frowns, then looks at Pepper, as if making sure that she's staying put at least. "Why?"

"Um. Because I'm... better, now, so I can go and help Steve and everyone else."

The response is immediate: "No."

Clint smacks Bucky's arm in a don't-let-this-take-too-long gesture before disappearing down the corridor. Bucky looks torn between dashing away from this conversation and not leaving the dining room at all. Steve rallies and kneels down to Todd's eye level.

"Bucky's gonna come back," he says quietly. "Just like we always do. It's not forever."

"No," Todd says again, looking from Steve to Bucky to see if it's working. "No. No."

"Pepper'll watch a movie with you," Bucky tries, grasping at straws. "She's gonna make sure you don't get bored while I'm-"

"No! Don't go to work! Stay!" Todd's eyes are welling up a little and he looks like he's ready to slam his tiny hands on the table, kick, something. Steve reaches out to try to pick him up but Todd wiggles away, getting to his feet and running down the hall to his room. Steve and Bucky have just enough time to share a look of alarm before they hear a door slam.

"Did an almost-three year old just run to his room and slam the door?" Steve asks quietly.

"Delayed separation anxiety," Pepper says smoothly, and pushes in Todd's chair and nudges Steve's shoulder in one motion. "I've got this. Go. Punch Victor for me."

**

Bucky spends the majority of the ride over on his phone, texting with Pepper and generally looking like shit. Steve navigates his way through the plane to sit next to him on the bench, chinstrap dangling and shield held between his knees.

"He's gonna be okay."

"I feel like an ass."

Sam looks over and makes a face. "It was that bad, huh?" He'd been in the gym at the time.

"He almost kicked Steve, " Bucky moans, head tilting back as if enduring physical agony. "I'm the worst."

"Dude, parents leave to go do stuff. Kids just don't like change at first. They adjust."

"I left him."

Sam sighs, getting up too to take the spot on Bucky's other side. "Remember," he says quietly, "this is the same kid who was bawling last week because there were only three chocolate chips in his cookie."

"Sam's got a point. If you try to make sure he's never upset, you're gonna drive yourself up the wall."

"It's not that he's upset, it's that - he's upset with me? I dunno, it's different when it's because I'm being bad cop, keepin' him in line."

"If you stayed with him 24/7 until he was 18, trust me, that wouldn't be healthy for him. Take it from the guy that had to share a freshman dorm room with a kid like that. They're not healthy people." Sam leans into Bucky's eyeline, grinning crookedly, until Bucky cracks a little, nods, seems to forgive himself a bit.

"Take all those feelings you have," Clint gestures gathering things, "and focus them on ripping Doom's stupid mask off and beating him with it."

Sam jerks his thumb toward Clint. "What he said."

**

It's Monday when they get back, but Jarvis says he's in daycare. Makes sense - Pepper couldn't possibly stop being a CEO to babysit for a day. She shouldn't.

"He's okay," she insists over the phone. "I mostly dropped him off so he could see his friends and take his mind off of it. I think he's trying to sulk, but we watched Lilo & Stitch yesterday and he did the Elvis dance, so it's 90% an act."

"Got it. Thanks, Pepper." Bucky smiles and hangs up. Steve holds up the shopping bag full of chocolate.

"So, the plan to spoil him into forgiving you is still on?"

"Yes," Bucky says firmly.

"As Parent Number Two, I feel the need to point out that your idea is solid but you went way overboard in the shop."

Bucky frowns and peers into the bag, perhaps forced to admit that it's maybe half of Todd's bodyweight in candy. "Okay. Let's... save three fourths of that and put the other fourth on the table."

"Good compromise."

**

Todd, in a rare display of emotional manipulation, really does pout at Bucky when Sam brings him back from daycare. He crosses his arms, and scowls, and doesn't answer questions.

"You don't even like what I brought back for you?" Bucky tries, flicking the Toblerone through his fingers. Todd scowls more deeply and turns his back to him. Bucky sighs. "Well, if you change your mind, I'm gonna be in the common room watching cartoons."

**

They end up staying up until ten and eating half the chocolate.

Chapter Text

"As you know, we primarily cater to the children of prominent political figures, foreign ambassadors..." The woman twirls her hand in a gentle 'and-so-on' gesture. "It appears that your child has fluency appropriate for his age in... several languages, outside the usual English and French."

Clint and Natasha share a smug look.

"Our tests also show that his reading comprehension is very high for his age range. You read to him often?"

"Yes," Steve says. "We all do."

The woman looks up from her clipboard at the arrangement of chairs. "All... of you?"

Steve, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Clint, Thor, Bruce, Pepper, and Tony all nod.

"Well," Tony pipes up, "I don't read to him much. I might be the deadbeat parent, now that I think about it."

"That's not true," Bruce comforts. "You were the one to get him started on the little addition/subtraction toys."

"Yeah, maybe I'm just the STEM parent." Tony scratches his chin. "And hey, actually, Thor's the deadbeat, he's often not even on the same planet as-"

Steve holds up a hand. "Maybe we should wait for Ms. Rothford to finish."

Ms. Rothford has the calm exterior that Steve recognizes from other people who had to be very professional in the face of an overwhelming situation. She glances back at her papers. "He displays a positive, social attitude and responds well to directions. I'm afraid we cannot officially accept the letter of recommendation from Stark Industries Daycare, as there is a..." She gestures to Tony. "...conflict of interest... but I have found no reason not to believe their declarations of an intelligent and well-behaved child." She looks back to Bucky. "We would be happy to enroll him in next year's kindergarten program."

Bucky grins widely and gets up to shake her hand over the desk. To his left, Steve notices a subtle fist-bump between Natasha and Clint.

**

Steve has shared some of his books with Bucky - the modern parenting guides that warn of bullying at a younge age, both physical and verbal.

"'Often focus on those who can't necessarily defend themselves'," Bucky reads in a flat tone, eyes flicking up to Steve. "Gosh. A real eye-opener, Stevie."

Steve resists the urge to punch Bucky's shoulder, as it would be a little inappropriate considering the discussion. "Just because I survived it doesn't mean he should have to," he says, and Bucky nods like this is obvious. "What we need to do is follow the book, communicate with teachers, make sure Todd understands it's not his fault, that we've got his back."

Bucky nods. "Sounds good."

"And not," Steve says, "say, pay anybody a visit if Todd comes home crying one day."

"Why would I do that?"

Steve crosses his arms. "Spend ten seconds imagining Todd with tears on his face and a split lip."

There's a moment's pause, and then a familiar flicker in Bucky's eyes. His eyebrows crease.

"Yeah," Steve says, and taps the book. "Talking to teachers. Supporting Todd. Not getting revenge."

"Ambassadors don't even have good security, you know, the guards are-"

"This is why I'm approaching you about this now and not after it's happened. Buck. Prepare yourself for not being able to protect him like you did for me."

Bucky frowns, licks his teeth, and finally nods.

**

It actually, blissfully, turns out to not be an issue. The scrabbles Todd gets in are minor at best, and before long his classmates have a good understanding of who his parents are.

Natasha makes the most of it. She actually really enjoys the parent teacher meetings. The veteran politicians are always easy to spot, giving her a wide berth and trying not to sweat bullets. They don't know for sure she's got dirt on them, but they don't know that she doesn't - and she just smiles and slings her arm around Bucky's shoulders, dressed in her 'Park Slope casual' attire and looking every bit the part. Bucky grins, rolling his eyes, and pours her some punch.

**

"Welcome home, young sir."

"Missed you, Jarvis!" Todd sets down his bookbag, punctuating the statement with a quick hug to the wall. Bucky and Steve look on, heads tilted.

"Day's gonna come he doesn't do that when he comes home from school anymore," Bucky murmurs under his breath.

"Shhh," Steve says, and smiles as Todd runs over, hugging his legs and then Bucky's with a big grin on his face.

**

"Nonono, I will be so so careful, actually, we. We will be careful. Right, Todd?"

"We're gonna be really careful."

Steve turns the corner to see Tony and Todd standing in front of Bucky, begging him for... something. Bucky notices Steve and beckons him over.

"Tony wants to start Todd on power tools or something."

"No," Tony counters, "no power tools. Just regular old-timey tools! Old as you, promise. We're gonna put a circuit together, make a lightbulb go on. That's it."

Steve takes his place next to Bucky, hands on hips and looking from Todd to Tony. "Lightbulb, wires, battery?"

"That's it. Well, and a switch. A totally safe switch. Super safe."

Steve shares a look with Bucky. Bucky seems to be in agreement - that they've investigated enough and that Tony is clearly even more excited than Todd about this. "Okay," Steve says, and smiles a little when Todd hops up in excitement. "Todd, you're gonna be careful and do everything Tony says, right?"

"YEAH!"

Bucky grins. "Alright, then. Go learn some stuff."

Todd is already barrelling down the halls toward the labs, yelling "YESSS YES YES YES" at the top of his lungs.

**

Bucky takes him to the zoo for his fourth birthday. Just Bucky. Todd is in transcendant when they come back to the Tower, carrying a large stuffed otter and giggling at whatever Bucky's saying to him in quiet Russian.

"He looks like he's had a pretty good day already," Clint remarks loudly. "Maybe he doesn't want the cake or ice cream."

Todd's face drops into a betrayed scowl.

Bruce stifles a laugh as Natasha strokes her chin in thought. "Well, there are a lot of us. We could probably finish it without him."

"Nuh-uh!" He puts his otter on the dining table so he can scramble up into a chair. "Birthdays mean cake!"

Steve brings it out from the kitchen, noticing that Tony's been buying progressively larger ones every year. This one has a large green '4' in icing on the top. Todd picks a corner piece and smiles hugely as he eats it, getting a fairly substantial amount of it on his face. (Sam gets pictures.)

**

"You are growing up to be a fine warrior, young Todd."

Todd cackles, arms looped around Thor's neck and hanging off him like a cape. "Make your hammer fly! Oh! Can you take us to the park?"

"No," Steve says calmly, not looking up from his book.

Todd makes an exasperated sound.

**

Mabel goes to a public school, but Sam is more than happy to set up playdates at her place and hang out. October rolls around and they go trick or treating together as a witch (Mabel) and a pumpkin (Todd). Sam takes tons of pictures, and when they come back with the sack full of candy, they spread it on the table and can't prevent Clint from stealing some of the bite-size candies.

"Shoulda gone yourself, " Todd shouts, but he's grinning, pushing some M&Ms over to Tony and insisting that everyone should have something.

"You're doing a very good job of sharing," Steve encourages. Todd beams.

"I already dumped halfa the bag in my room. You guys can help me eat these candies."

Clint smiles around the tiny Snickers bar. "You're a smart pumpkin, you know that?"

**

Apparently it's a tradition in Pepper's family to bake some of the Halloween candies into things. M&M cookies, Snickers brownie bars. The kitchen smells amazing and Bruce sits with Todd on his lap, waiting patiently by the oven timer and discussing favorites.

"Three Musketeers?" Todd tries.

"Too sweet for me," Bruce says.

"Nerds?"

"Nah."

Todd cranes his head back to look at him, as if studying his face for the answer. "Pea butter cups?"

"Close."

"Reeses Pieces!"

"Yep!" Bruce grins. "Those are the best."

"They're good," Todd corrects. "Not the best. But good!"

"So what's your favorite then?"

Todd looks like he's about to tell him, getting an idea at the last moment and snapping his mouth shut.

"Oh, I have to guess?"

Todd nods fervently.

Chapter Text

"Steve, can Mabel come over this weekend?"

Steve looks over from the television, unsure. "Um."

Todd looks at him a moment and then gets up to walk over to where Sam's finishing off a sandwich at the dining table. "Sam," he says, because he was clearly talking to the wrong parent, "can Mabel come over this weekend?"

Sam looks up and then stops chewing, making the same unsure expression as Steve. "Mmm," he says around his sandwich. Todd gives an exasperated sigh.

"That's what Steeeve said."

Steve turns on the couch a little and searches for the right words. "Todd, our house is kind of... different. From other houses."

Todd nods. "We have Jarvis. And a pool."

Sam swallows his bite and laughs. "Yeah, it's definitely the pool that sets us apart."

Steve throws him a look. "Yes, we've got Jarvis, and we live in a big, um, a big tower with lots of stuff below us, and,"

"Li lives in an apartment with a restaurant on the bottom," Todd supplies helpfully.

"Yes, but we have - we're not in an apartment, we're in a. A headquarters."

"For superhero things?"

"Yes," Sam says.

"I'm not a superhero and I can be here," Todd points out, clearly hoping that this exception to the rule means other exceptions can be made. "And Pepper's not."

"No, she isn't, but." Steve looks anxiously back to Sam. "There are... security concerns, and... let me talk to Tony about it, okay?"

Todd makes a sad noise and nods, plunking back onto the couch and watching Lilo & Stitch with a little less interest than before.

**

Tony doesn't look up from whatever he's welding. "Talk to Pepper. She's the one who handles background checks."

**

Pepper has already done them. "Back when he first started having playdates with the kids at daycare," she says, and pulls up an extensive file. "Her mom's fine. Jarvis will keep an eye on Mabel while she's here, although I'm sure it'll be unnecessary. Just please tell Clint to put his stuff away before she comes over? Todd knows the no-touching rules, but you can't expect a regular kid to know a grenade arrowhead when she sees one."

**

"Ugh," Clint says, but agrees to do it.

**

Mabel has freckles and tiny braids and huge green eyes. Sam's carrying her Dora the Explorer bag over his shoulder, but Todd has clearly insisted on carrying the small lunch tin full of snacks and insulin pens - he opens the fridge very carefully and slides the box into the middle, patting it as if to make sure it'll stay in place.

"This is Mabel," he announces very seriously, coming back to the common room, and Steve suppresses a laugh as he kneels down to shake her hand.

"Hi Mabel, my name's Steve. It's nice to meet you."

"Hi," she says quietly, and then looks around, at the high ceilings, the common area with the huge TV, and the dining area that leads into the open kitchen. Out the French doors she can see the pool, and her eyes get a little bigger. "You live here?"

"Uh-huh," Todd says, shifting a little, clearly waiting for her assessment.

Mabel blinks at him. "You have a pool at your house?"

Sam clears his throat. "Mabel, your mom set timers on my phone for when you need your shots, so I'll come get you for those, okay?" He waits for her nod. "You wanna take your bag and go get changed for the pool?"

Mabel nods so hard it looks like she's trying to shake her head clean off her shoulders.

**

Mabel's mom - Lydia - drops by that night to pick her up. The kids smell like chlorine and they're sitting on the couch wrapped up in big beach towels, talking excitedly over Mulan.

"No trouble?" she asks, smiling as Sam presses a glass of wine into her hand and encourages her to sit and stay a while.

"None at all," Steve says. "We'd love to have her over again any time."

Lydia sneaks a glance over at the couch, watching for a moment as the villain of the film comes into view and the kids gasp in unison. She smiles. "I'm really glad they met each other," she says. "If you ever need an emergency babysitter, I'm happy to step in."

Sam lifts his eyebrows. "Actually, we might have to take you up on that if Eastern Europe doesn't calm down."

"As someone who actually reads the CNN scroller, I'm gonna take a huge leap and say it won't." Lydia takes a sip from her glass. "Is that where Bucky is?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"Bucky," she repeats calmly. "Todd talks about him nonstop. I assumed I'd be meeting him today."

"He's working with Natasha," Steve confirms. "And, I feel I should, I mean, his reputation is-"

Lydia waves the comment away. "My brother's a Navy SEAL," she says. "He can kill someone a hundred different ways. Treats his two little girls like princesses. I know how it is."

Relief washes over Steve. In the corner of his eye he can see Sam's shoulders relax a little too.

**

After Mulan is over, Todd helps Mabel pack up her things to go home. As Lydia checks it over to make sure everything's there, she blinks into the bag and pulls out a bright blue triceratops toy.

"Mabel, did you pack this by accident?"

She shakes her head. "Todd said I could borrow him until we see each other again."

Chapter Text

The people on the parenting forums are astonishingly reassuring. All Steve has to do is explain that he never "did sleepovers growing up" (a mild lie) and wants to make sure he's hosting one correctly for his child and his friend. It turns out it's very easy at Todd's age - popcorn, a movie, and maybe staying up an hour(!) later than usual is all they need. The tower has guest rooms, but that defeats the purpose, so Bucky pulls a mattress into Todd's room, puts some sheets on it, and asks Todd if there's anything else Mabel would like.

"She likes..." Todd pauses, giving it a surprising amount of thought. "She likes melon slices."

"I'll get some at the store today," Steve promises.

"And more pens for her. Just in case."

"Those come from the doctor, not the store. She'll bring those herself."

"And Fruit Loops," Todd says very suddenly, grinning.

"Todd, is that something Mabel actually likes, or something you want me to buy for you?"

"She really really likes Fruit Loops."

"Todd. You like Fruit Loops."

**

Mabel is treated to dinner with the grown-ups this time, now that so many of them are back in the Tower. (Save Sam, who Steve suspects is making the most of Lydia's free night.) Her table manners actually put Todd's to shame: no arms on the table, every single please and thank you, and vegetables first.

When Todd nudges her with his foot, though, she giggles mischievously and engages in a brief poking war.

Steve couldn't be happier.

"Miss..." Mabel trails off, then leans in to have a quick exchange with Todd. "Miss Widow?"

Natasha looks at her calmly, ignoring Clint's stifled snort. "Yes?"

"On TV, I saw you run up and kick a bad guy in the head."

Natasha nods. "That was me."

"Could you teach me to do that?"

Bucky's eyes widen a little, and he exchanges a quick glance with Steve: What if her mom doesn't like it? Todd would be devastated if Mabel wasn't allowed to come over anymore.

"I'm a little worn out from training today," Natasha says smoothly, "but maybe another time I can teach you a cool blocking move."

Mabel lights up and does an excited little wiggle in her seat. Steve suspects she picked it up from Todd.

**

7:03. Clint, without disclosing any particular reason, has joined the movie session, perched on a recliner in the corner as Bucky holds up two discs.

"Totoro," Bucky says for the third time, "or Ponyo?"

Todd's mouth forms a grim line, grumpily stubborn, but when he peeks a glance over to Mabel, her sad eyes are apparently too intense to be ignored. "Ponyo," he relents, head hung. Mabel does a delighted little hop and Clint, Steve swears, smiles.

**

8:46. "Flashlights," Todd's murmuring under his breath, rustling through the supply closet. He makes a triumphant sound and backs up with an armful of them, moving to awkwardly close the door with his foot.

"Not the red one," Steve says, squinting. "That gives off sparks."

"Oh." Todd tries to pick out that one without dislodging the others, but ends up spilling them all. "Oops. Um." He starts chasing after them as they roll. Steve finally abandons the newspaper he's been conveniently reading in the common room ever since Todd and Mabel disappeared to his room, kneeling down to help.

"What are they for?"

"The secret fort," Todd explains patiently, letting Steve take the red flare and picking up the rest.

"Would your secret fort have anything to do with the reason the linen closet's missing half its stuff?"

Todd chews his lip and deigns not to answer, scurrying back to his room with his loot.

**

9:12 PM. Bucky looks up from his tablet, lost in thought for a while. Finally,

"What did we do when we had sleepovers?"

"Talked about girls, mostly." Steve grins. "Sometimes you'd tell me what I should draw. I ended up with a lot of odd doodles from those nights."

"I think there was one of me fighting a bear," Bucky says slowly, remembering.

Steve nods sagely. "You were very explicit about the fact that you should be winning against the bear."

"Mmhmm. One of your better works."

"Oh, I think so too."

**

They check in a little after 9:30; they could ask Jarvis for a display screen, but it's never been their style.

"It's adorable," Steve enthuses quietly.

"Lemme see," Bucky mouths. He tugs the door open further, careful not to let too much light in. A few of the flashlights have been left on, illuminating a sort of bedsheet lean-to made between Mabel's mattress on the floor and Todd's higher mattress up against the wall. From one of the LED lights under the turtle-themed bedsheets, two small children are very clearly asleep, starfished out and slightly overlapping at the arms.

Bucky whispers, "Jarvis, picture, please."

"Taken, sirs."

**

Steve oversleeps, so by the time he makes it to the dining room Todd and Mabel are already seated. Todd remains in his footie pajamas, but Mabel has already dressed for the day.

"Morning," Steve says, nodding politely to the girl.

"Bucky's makin' pancakes," Todd reports, eyes big and excited.

"We never have pancakes at my house," Mabel says. "We have, um. We have cereal, and toast, with peanut butter."

Todd considers this. "Buuut, your mom can make green curry. Bucky can't."

"I could make green curry," Bucky argues lightly from the kitchen. "What's in it?"

Mabel shrugs. "Rice?" She calls back. Todd is kicking the nearest chair back, so Steve takes it and noogies Todd affectionately as he reaches for an apple from the bowl. "And chicken, and... and green goop."

"The green goop is really good," Todd adds loudly so Bucky can hear, shooting Steve an injured look: Don't embarrass me in front of my friend!

Steve grins and rolls his eyes: She didn't even notice. Steve takes an orange out of the bowl as well, plunking it down on Todd's plate. Eat up.

**

Todd's blue triceratops is back. It sits on his little desk next to an unfamiliar stuffed monkey doll.

Chapter Text

"He's basically like our Robin," Tony says, leaning casually against the podium, "except he doesn't fight crime with us and he's got like twelve adoptive parents instead of one."

Camera bulbs flash. Standing in the back, Steve digs the heel of his palm into his forehead.

**

"What do you say to questions about your adoptive child's right to a nuclear family?"

Bucky stares at the microphone in front of him, then over his shoulder at the rubble.

"We just took down a huge octopus robot thing... which opened up and let out hundreds of smaller octopus robots... and you think we can't handle a kid?"

The reporter doesn't say anything.

"Fuck off, ma'am."

**

Summer comes. Mabel's taking classes at the youth gym, so Todd does too. He brings home a messy stack of pamphlets on jazz dance, ballet, karate, arts & crafts, and - the holy grail - circus class.

"Ballet is Tuesday," Todd says carefully, "and Circus is Friday. So I can take both."

"Mabel isn't going to be in beginner's ballet if she's been taking classes on the weekends," Steve says, examining the brochure. "Do you want to go to ballet if Mabel's not there?"

Todd looks a little crestfallen.

Natasha leans back on the arm of the couch, looking at them upside-down. "When does the intermediate class start?"

Steve tilts his head. "Why?" She just keeps looking at him, so he flips to the last page to look at the schedule. "In... three weeks."

Nat's mouth curves into a smile. "Todd, will you work really hard for three weeks?"

Bucky laughs. "Really?"

Nat waves her hand at him to be quiet. "Todd?"

Todd's eyes widen a little. "You can teach me?"

"If you work really hard."

"I'll work really really hard."

**

He does, actually. It's hell staying still for so long, not coming as naturally as Clint's lessons on flips and leaps, but by the time the day camp starts his form is as good as any other six-year-old's, knows all five 'positions', and practices his retiré devants against the table when he's waiting for dinner to start.

**

"Is circus hard?" Mabel asks, after she's done helping bringing the dishes to the kitchen and Steve has outfitted them both with a brownie and a cup of milk.

"Nah. S'fun." Todd's grin is open-mouthed and toothy. "There's a tumble mat, and rope swings, and big..." He gestures his arms as far out as they'll go. "...balance balls? They're like medicine balls but you're s'posed to stand on 'em."

"Oh," Mabel says, obviously curious.

"You'd be good at it," Todd insists. "And Mr. Henry is super funny!"

**

Neither Steve nor Bucky are surprised when Mabel convinces her mom to sign her up too.

**

They are surprised when they get a call from the camp one Friday and have to come in. Todd is sitting with his arms crossed and legs dangling from the adult-sized chair, eyes burning and unrepentant.

"He threw stuff at her," he says immediately, and looks up and scowls when the camp director walks down the hallway to stand beside him.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes." The man smiles tightly. "I'm Mr. Leighton. Todd here got into an altercation today."

Barnes looks at the man, then down at Todd. "Todd, why don't you tell us what happened?"

"He threw stuff at her," Todd reiterates. "The big bouncy balls. They're big. She fell over both times."

They don't have to ask who 'she' is. "Who did that, Todd?" Steve kneels down.

"David M. He's mean and I told him to stop and he wouldn't."

"David has already gotten a talking to," Mr. Leighton says preemptively, "but I think he deserves an apology from Todd here."

Bucky crosses his arms. "Todd, what'd you do to David?"

"David M.," Todd clarifies, because in the world of children, last initials are often vital bits of information. "I just pinned him on the tumble mat. No. Bruises." He gestures for emphasis, then at the director, as if to say that this whole thing is ridiculous.

"Nat," Bucky mutters under his breath, and Steve sighs and nods.

"Apparently you also shouted at him, Todd," the director says.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. "Todd, is that true?"

"I only said he should stop."

"Exact words," Steve orders.

Todd bites his lip, then clears his throat as if about to recite a line. "STOP IT!"

"That is shouting," Bucky agrees.

"But it's not a threat," Steve points out.

"It's inappropriate," Mr. Leighton says. "We don't allow any kind of fighting in our programs."

"Twice," Todd says, focusing his attention on Steve now. Steve takes in a deep breath and sighs.

The sound of arguing down the hall comes closer. A woman turns the corner, a man close behind, and she narrows in on Steve immediately, pressing a finger into his chest.

"Your child owes my son an apology," she snaps, and Steve takes a step back just as Bucky hisses through his teeth.

"You must be Mrs. M.," Bucky says, voice smooth, and sidesteps to block Todd from her view. With a quick gesture behind his back, Todd gets up and obediently slips away to the boy's restroom.

"Yes, I'm Mrs. Marston, and you both must be ashamed of yourselves." She thankfully takes her finger away from Steve, crossing her arms in front of her. "David was terrorized. How do you feel, with your child emulating your behaviors?"

Bucky tilts his head. "Ma'am, does your husband throw things at you?"

She turns to him, eyeing him like he might be insane. "I beg your pardon?"

"To show he likes you," Bucky clarifies. "Does he throw things at you. Knock you down."

"What an-"

"Because that's what your son was doing to a little girl," Bucky reaches his hand out and effortlessly blocks Mr. Leighton from placing himself between the two of them. "And that's why my kid kept telling your son to stop. I'm sorry he scared David, but-"

"Little boys get crushes, Mr. Barnes, it is completely normal to-"

"Common doesn't mean okay. He was bullying Mabel. Has he apologized to her?"

The woman rolls her eyes. "I'm sure Mabel is just fine."

"That's a no," Steve murmurs helpfully, and Bucky nods along.

"We're gonna talk to our kid about talking to a teacher when he sees other kids acting out," Bucky says, raising his voice a little when he sees the woman about to cut him off, "and you're gonna talk to your kid about how to treat girls, right?"

"I really don't think my child is the one with serious problems, Mr. Barnes. You two might expect special treatment because of who you are, but-"

"There's nothing wrong with Todd," Steve cuts in.

She focuses back on Steve. "Oh no? The abandoned kid raised by freaks, nothing wrong with him?"

The room goes silent. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve notices Mr. Leighton take a quiet step back.

**

In the parking lot, Steve and Bucky both kneel down to hug him.

"M'sorry I got in trouble," Todd mumbles, much more repentant since he was collected from the bathroom by two very grim-faced men.

"We're not mad at you," Steve assures him. "We love you."

"Are you mad at Mrs. M?" He rubs his nose. "For calling you freaks?"

Bucky leans back. "You heard all that?"

Todd nods wordlessly.

"We're not mad at her for that," Steve says after a while. "We're mad at her for just about everything else, though."

"Oh."

They look at Todd's face, a little confused, definitely sad. Bucky glances over at Steve. "Clint can teach you circus things, if you want."

"Will... will he teach Mabel too?"

"If she wants, sure."

Chapter Text

It's nothing dangerous; just the gymnastic rings, the uneven bars, stuff Todd mostly swings from before finally managing a couple pull-ups. It's the more 'circusy' stuff that he really takes to: the balance beam, juggling three, then four balls, grinning proudly when Natasha applauds. Mabel is happy to stick with the small hula hoops they got from the toy store, managing two at once while Todd does cartwheels around her.

**

It's not until an orange leaves a citrusy mess on the floor that a new rule about 'juggling at the breakfast table' has to be set.

**

"So, the trapeze stuff I could show him is actually really simp-"

"No," Bucky says, not looking up from his book.

**

Kate Bishop, who's apparently another SHIELD straggler with ties to Clint, starts showing up more and more often. She's a slim, quick-mouthed girl with sleek black hair and Todd looks up at her with a strange sort of expression that makes Steve worry.

"It's starting," he murmurs one day.

Bucky frowns. "What is?"

Steve stares down the hall. "Clint just said Kate's coming over. So he just ran to his room."

"To... hide?"

"To pick a better shirt."

"Mary and Joseph. He's not even seven yet."

Steve eyes him sidelong. "You were the damn same."

"Sure, sure. He must get it from my side."

**

It's not that Pepper avoided Todd when he was younger, but now that he can hold a conversation, she seems to be able to relate to him a little better. She teaches him 'go fish', and then, because his math skills are slightly ridiculous ever since Tony got him those educational video games, gin rummy and poker.

"We're going to have to start playing with two decks," she says one day after dinner, taking his face-down card and passing him a new one.

"How come?" He frowns.

"Because I think you've taught yourself to count cards."

Todd's frown deepens and he looks up from his awkwardly-held hand. "Isn't that the best way to win?"

**

(He's still a kid, though. One of his favorite things in life is to be snatched up by Bucky, swung in a circle, and then tossed into the pool to make as big of a splash as possible.)

**

Todd and Mabel are playing with LEGO in the other room, and Steve and Bucky have super-hearing.

"I need all the blue ones."

"Blue," Todd echoes dutifully. There is the sound of rattling plastic as pieces are pushed around in piles. Steve scratches idly at the bandage on his arm - A.I.M. pulse gun - and flips the newspaper over.

"Todd."

"Uh-huh."

"Why don't you call Bucky your dad?"

Steve's hands freeze on the newspaper.

More rattling of plastic pieces. Little clicks as they snap into place. "I dunno," comes the quiet reply. "I call him his name."

"I don't call my mom 'Lydia'."

"You could if you wanted to."

"Yeah, but it'd be weeeird."

"I've always called him Bucky."

"Hm." More plastic clicks. "Is it cuz you already have a dad?"

"I don't," Todd says. "I have a bio... bi-o-logical father. He's not my dad."

"Okay," Mabel says. "But Bucky's like your dad."

"Steve's like my dad."

Steve peeks over his newspaper to see Bucky sitting still with a very odd expression.

"Bucky's like my mom," Todd continues. "Moms, like. They cook, and give hugs, and play pretend... but Steve hugs and plays pretend too. And Clint."

"Maybe you have like five dads."

"You can't have like five dads."

"Freddie has two dads."

"Yeah, but they're married to each other. Bucky an' Steve an' Sam an' Clint aren't all..." He devolves into giggles, and so does Mabel.

"And Mr. Stark!" Mabel adds delightedly. "And, um, Mr. Banner, and Mr. Thor."

Bucky catches Steve watching him and lifts one eyebrow just a fraction of an inch. Steve shrugs.

"Anyway, you don't have to have a mom or a dad, so it doesn't matter," Todd says finally. There's a brief silence of little plastic sounds. The sweeping brush of one of them fanning through the pile, looking for something in particular.

"Sometimes I wish I had a dad again," Mabel admits.

"Your dad?"

"No, I think... a different one."

"You have all my not-dads."

"No, they're yours."

"But they can be yours too."

"I don't live here."

"That doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

"No it doesn't."

Mabel doesn't sound so sure. "All your not-dads love you," she says carefully.

"They like you a lot," Todd insists. "Clint says you're really good at the balance beam now. And you always help clean up after dinner. Steve says you have super good manners." A pause. "You can have more than one kid. And love them. So. They can have you too, right?"

"I don't know. I guess so."

"I think so."

Chapter Text

Todd starts making noises about all the sports the other kids play, and the time finally comes for them to start looking at options: Karate's right out. The other kids will run screaming even if Natasha's taught him great restraint for his age. Todd's not nearly tall enough for basketball, and he's not that interested anyway. Soccer's alright, but baseball - he's been watching the games with Steve and Bucky enough that he knows the rules, knows the positions, and has some opinions about short stop.

"So, what position would you wanna play?" Bucky asks, pretending that baseball is no better or worse than any of the other sports, and that he's in no way biased or hoping that this one will stick more than 'tennis', which is also still on the table.

"Batter, duh."

"Batter's good," Steve says mildly. He rubs his face because he knows that when it counts, he is terrible at lying. "Whatever you, I - I mean, if you want to try tennis and baseball and then drop one, we can schedule it, and you can make your pick after a week or two."

"I think I just wanna try baseball first. Plus Danny's in it so we could just go straight from school together. His mom's nice."

"Yeah." Bucky nods. "We'll set it up with Danny's mom if you want."

"So... that's yes? We can go pick out gear and stuff?" Todd's sitting up a little straighter, looking from one to the other. "They have loaner helmets and things but-"

"We can definitely go buy you some baseball stuff," Steve cuts in.

"Yeah, we can do that," Bucky adds.

"Okay." Todd grins. "It starts next month! So um, maybe this weekend, we could-"

"We can go this weekend."

"We can," Bucky agrees.

Todd's face finally breaks into the grin he's been holding back. "Yes!" He gets to his feet and does a little jump. "M'gonna go tell Clint! Oh. Um. Thank you!"

"Bye," Steve says, and Bucky just nods, looking studiously at a spot on the wall. Todd clambers off the couch, running out of the living room, and Bucky immediately turns to Steve.

"You're tearing up, you big sap."

"Like you're not proud too. Look at you! I see that streak. You're a hypocrite."

Bucky flicks his hand in a refusal to acknowledge this, looking back at the wall.

**

Bruce reschedules a conference on his latest radiation findings to attend the first game.

**

Steve has gotten used to quiet knocks very low on the bedroom door, about knob-height; they no longer set off his internal alarms.

"C'min," he calls, rolling onto his side and squinting one eye open as Todd comes in. He no longer brings cloth Natama in with him, but he's got the same slant-mouthed tension that he always does when he shows up this late. "What's up, buddy?"

"Bad dreams," Todd mumbles, and there's only a brief moment before he gives in and crawls into the bed, hiding under the blankets and cocooning himself up. Steve sighs and throws an arm over the lump, wincing as the bandage on his elbow rasps against the sheets.

"Is it because Bucky got hurt this last mission?" Steve was lucky to only have some scrapes - Bucky's dislocated shoulder and broken wrist were a little more traumatizing for Todd to handle when they made it back, although he'd put on a brave face at the time.

"No," Todd lies evenly. "I just dreamed about monsters."

"Monsters?"

"Really big ones."

"Really big monsters," Steve agrees, and rubs the blankety lump's back for a few minutes until he hears quiet snores. He doesn't manage to fall back asleep himself for a couple hours.

**

"He already has," Steve says, peering over the dining table at the homework Todd's doing. He's clearly breezing through it; Bruce is right. He'll be on to precalc soon.

"I mean, like, special robots," Todd says, voice a little weird. "Superhero ones."

Bucky reaches over and puts a hand on Todd's. "Hey, pal, I really am okay."

"I know," Todd snaps, and pulls his hand away clumsily. "I just, it's stupid, okay? It's, there's other people that could do it."

"We-"

"And Bucky has - you both already did a lot last century! Why can't you retire?"

"We're not old," Steve says simply, then cants his head. "I mean, we can still work."

"You fight."

"And we win," Bucky says firmly. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Darcy walk into the room, stop, and then slowly retreat as if trying not to draw the attention of something big and hungry.

"People have tried to copy Tony's suit and turn them into security bots before. It's a nice thought, but in practice - Tony's teaching you this, right? Mechanical warfare ethics?"

Bucky tries to lean in, but stops when he sees Todd start to lean away. "We aren't goin' anywhere."

Todd's mouth twists and he gets up from the table.

Chapter Text

Darcy leans over the table and shakes her head. "No! You know Jane, she's totally stubborn. She's all, 'If I can handle containing the Aether in my physical form, I can handle a fetus conceived with the help of some Asgardian technology, no big'-- oh, uh, hi there, champ."

Darcy, Bruce, and Steve all turn to stare at Todd, whose eyes are like saucers.

"Todd," Steve says slowly, "did you understand what we were just talking about?"

"...fetus," Todd says after a pause, and Darcy winces.

"Um, you can keep a secret, right, buddy?"

He really can't.

**

The announcement is a little rushed.

**

"We are very happy," Thor says to the room, and after the applause, turns to Steve and murmurs very quietly under his breath: "I am intensely confused and require your assistance."

"Oh," Steve says. As soon as the celebratory cake has been demolished and people are dispersing and asking to touch Jane's belly, Steve pulls Thor into the hallway.

"Let me guess: cultural questions about being an expecting father."

"Expecting what? That is just the problem, friend Steve. I have no idea what to expect." Thor's brows knit together and he crosses his arms over his massive chest. "Lady Jane explained that she wanted to wait several months before announcing that she was with child. This was nearly unbearable for me, but I agreed."

"That's typical," Steve says, but Thor is already bursting with the next issue.

"She said that she desired a ceremony to tell her family that took place at a restaurant and that I attend. I did so. Her mother was overwhelmingly happy at the news!"

"That's... bad?"

Thor throws his hands in the air. "She then asked when we were planning to wed and became vexed when the answer was that we were not planning such a thing at all!"

"That's also typical," Steve says delicately.

"This woman's happiness is important to Jane, and thus to me, but I do not understand why she would want Jane to be Queen of Asgard. The duties are numerous and time-intensive and Jane would no longer have time for the studies that she holds dear. She would have to leave Midgard and-"

"She just wants to make sure you're going to stick around."

Thor makes a face as if this concern is ridiculous, but something slowly dawns on him. "She thinks I am using her daughter to breed powerful sons, but have no intention to remain by her side to raise them?"

Steve tilts his hand side to side. "I'm sure if you, um, explain the politics of what marriage would mean, and that you're going to be raising the kid together..."

"Of course." Thor smiles. "In Asgard, families are often large and interwoven, much as they are here in Stark's home. It will please me to see a child raised in the Tower."

"I'm glad. Because Todd is dying for a little brother or sister."

**

"You can't eat cheese!?" Todd looks at Jane like she has a horrible illness. She just giggles.

"It's soft cheeses."

Todd looks down at the queso fresco, frowning, before cutting off a slice from the wheel and putting it on a small plate. Bucky watches this and catches on first.

"Buddy, putting it in the fridge for a while won't fix it."

"But it'll be harder if it's colder!"

Jane bursts out laughing.

**

Nearly the entire Tower wants to take the afternoon off to go to the first game, but Todd actually tells them they can't all come because it would make him nervous. Clint visibly suppresses despair from what Steve has been mentally calling 'Secret Uncle Syndrome'. Natasha just nods and accepts it. Pepper makes sure to catch Todd on the way to the car, kneeling down to give him a hug and a kiss before he goes. He makes the requisite "that's gross" face, but it's clearly all for show.

**

Bucky kneels down, adjusting the brim of Todd's hat. "You gonna keep your knees bent?"

"Uh-huh."

"Gonna stare down the pitcher?"

"Uh-huh."

"And what'm I gonna do, no matter what?"

Todd makes a face and looks away.

"C'mon, pal."

"You're gonna be proud a'me no matter what," Todd mumbles under his breath, so quietly that Steve only hears it because of his super-hearing.

**

On the bleachers, Sam and Bucky argue over who's been teaching him better game strategy while Steve talks with the other parents.

When Todd steps up to the plate, he gets one strike before making it all the way to second base. Steve gets it all on tape.

**

Todd stomps into the gym. "My last name is stupid."

Bucky looks over from the punching bag, mouth twitching. "Stupid?" He echoes.

"It's French," Steve corrects, but Todd just crosses his arms and shakes his head, position unmoved.

"It's hard for everyone to spell and I don't like it," he says. "It's - can't people get different ones? If they want?"

Tony shrugs his shoulders mid-stretch, arching left and then right. "You could drop it entirely. Be like Cher." He smiles at his own idea. "Todd. Just 'Todd'."

Steve shudders and readjusts his grip on the bag, jerking his chin to indicate Bucky should resume hitting it. "All those machine-read forms for your school and summer programs are hard enough as it is. Let's not confuse them with a blank field."

Bucky clocks the bag with his left. "What's gotten into you, kid?"

"I just don't like it," he says, clearly not giving the rest of the story; knowingly, as a group, the adults in the room just wait it out and continue what they were doing until Todd speaks up again. "I mean, I could..."

"Could what?" Bucky asks.

"I mean, could I use yours?"

Bucky stops hitting the bag.

Chapter Text

"Todd Barnes," Clint says, musing over the name. "Good ring to it."

Todd, who has been strangely insistent about doing as much of this himself as possible, looks over the mess of paperwork, carefully pushing it into a neat pile and then putting it into a folder. "Jarvis is helping me with the form for my school ID. Then I think that's it."

"There's also your passport," Steve reminds him gently.

Todd frowns. "Passport." He nods. "Jarvis, can you find the stuff and print it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you, Jarvis." Todd rubs his face, giving the belabored sigh of a child with too much to do, and leans against Steve's arm when he takes the chair next to him and starts drawing up a checklist on the outside of the folder. "Thanks."

"No problem." Steve kisses the top of his head. "You're doing a good job."

Todd looks around. "Where'd Bucky go?"

"I think he had a phone call," Steve lies.

"Yeah," Clint supports, nodding along. "Steve, maybe you should see if he's done with that phone call?"

Steve shrugs as if it's not a big deal, getting up and leaving the common area to go to Bucky's room. He knocks, waits a moment, then comes in, smiling when he sees Bucky hunched over his bed with his head in his hands.

"I think he'd understand that you're happy," Steve murmurs.

Bucky shakes his head, shoulders shaking before he lifts his head up. His face is tear-streaked and his smile is shaky but genuine. "I saw my dad cry once," he says. "I nearly had a heart attack, age five."

"Always so protective." Steve joins him on the edge of the bed and throws his arm across his shoulders, hugging him. "Modern parents can get emotional. Quit being such a fossil."

"Thanks, Sam." Bucky laughs weakly and swipes at his face again. "Jesus, how do I look? I always ended up looking like a wrinkly tomato when I cried."

"You did," Steve agrees, thinking back. "I don't... you know, I don't think I've seen you cry since..."

"Doesn't matter. I'm gonna hit the gym, and the showers after that." 

"Go punch things and feel manly," Steve encourages.

"I swear to Christ, I do not need two Sams in my life."

 **

"Ebbets Field was in Flatbush. It had big-"

"Where in Flatbush?" Todd interrupts.

Bucky rolls his eyes. "There's apartments there or something now. It's not important."

Todd scowls, irritated at discovering yet another mythical place that he will not get to visit.

"Anyway. Steve and I would go there for every Dodgers game we could and it would be packed. Never enough room for all the fans. People tryin' to drive in from out of town, but there was never enough parking." 

"Was it only for baseball?"

"No, but baseball was the most important thing they did," Bucky responds, and Todd nods along seriously, as if this were a given.

**

"Why don't you ever use the art program anymore?"

Steve looks up from the watercolors. "The one Jarvis has?"

Todd nods, coming over to look at what he's making. "Tony said it was a test program and he was gonna... make a new Photoshop, or something."

It kind of fell by the wayside, as a lot of Tony's brilliant but half-baked projects do, as Steve recalls. "I don't know. I've gotten pretty used to technology, but art's really kinetic for me, I guess." He stops, thinking about it. "But, I mean, that's a personal preference. There's nothing wrong with digital art."

Todd is putting on an excellent show of causal interest. "There's not?"

"No," Steve continues. "I mean, a lot of the 'brushes' were... they were meant to simulate real-life brushes, or different kinds of pencils, or charcoal... and I grew up using the real things, but that doesn't mean the simulations are inherently no good. And I mean, I started to really like the idea of layering. Makes erasing a lot easier."

"Hmm." Todd pulls up a chair next to Steve's, leaning his elbows on his knees and watching Steve paint for a while. After a few minutes, he gets up, getting a fresh cup of water for the brushes. (It's rarely necessary, but Steve has never had the heart to tell Todd this since he started 'helping' this way back when he was four.) "I don't know what to draw. Or paint."

"Or sculpt, or... whatever you want." Steve switches to a smaller brush. "Do you have an assignment for school?"

"No."

"You just want to?"

"I guess."

Steve smiles. "Have Jarvis make you a sketchbook folder," he suggests. "And you can have one of mine, too. You don't have to choose a side."

"I can really have one of your sketchbooks?"

"Promise you won't forget it in the park."

"That was one textbook, one time."

"Your sketches are much more important than a math book."

**

**

Bruce frowns, tipping his head back. "I know what they injected me with," he says finally.

"What? What is it?" Tony leans forward as much as he can with the cuffs at his ankles and wrists. When Steve glances over to see if he can see the others, he finds he can see enough of Clint's expression to know that they don't have a solution to get out of here either.

"I invented it," Bruce explains, brows coming together in pain. "It was... it's a suppressant, to keep me from..."

"Hulking out," Tony finishes for him. "From your expression I'm gonna guess this is the one that got scrapped due to liver damage and severe migraines?"

Bruce nods delicately.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Bucky asks, somewhere to the left.

"Yes," Bruce says. "I'd die if I took a dose every day for a few years, but... yeah, quit worrying about me and let's think of a way out of here."

"You're the best option we have," Natasha says on the other side of the room, where Steve can't see. "Clint and I have been picked clean. Bucky's got super cuffs on. Steve?"

"Same," he says apologetically.

Bruce sighs. "Nothing's clear," he says, breath shallow.

"It kind of made him high," Tony explains quietly. "But not, like, fun high? Just... sort of drowsy, unemotional, headachey high."

Natasha's voice is sharp: "Is it possible to cut through it?"

"Theoretically possible," Bruce says, as if from far away. "Important to differentiate... stress from anger, anxiety from fear... the most core... the hippocampus is..."

"Radiation studies are boring," Tony says, enunciating slowly. "Everything you do with your life is boring. Your yoga is boring."

Sam shares a look with Steve. "Tony, I don't know if that's the best way to-"

"I know," Bruce says quietly, as if he's on a five-second delay. "Boring's good. Boring's safe."

"Your hair looks like a gray baby sheep's taking a nap on your head," Tony adds, squinting.

Bruce just tilts his head as if to reluctantly agree.

"New tactic," Natasha says. "Attacks to the ego aren't our way in."

Clint starts making a very loud, very irritating noise.

"No," Bucky snaps.

Clint stops.

"Bruce," Natasha says suddenly. "Can you hear me?"

"Hi," Bruce mumbles. He's blinking at the floor like he's trying to get it to stop spinning. Steve swallows his fear and starts pulling at his cuffs again, quietly so as to not disturb whatever Nat has planned.

"Do you know who Todd is?"

"Of course I do," Bruce says, in a mixture of patience and amusement. "Helped him... with his bio paper. Yesterday."

"No more bio papers."

Bruce looks up. "He's switching to physics?"

"No," Natasha says, and the hair on Steve's neck rises up as he realizes the plan. "He's going to have to do his homework on his own now. Everything on his own. Because if we die here, Todd is alone."

The room goes weirdly still.

"He'll have to go to our funerals," Natasha continues. "Pepper will take him. She'll hold his hand while they lower our-"

The cuffs snap off in a loud burst as Bruce yanks the metal chair apart and throws it through the reinforced door.

Chapter Text

"Hi," Todd greets in the hangar, waving to them as they descend out of the Quinjet. Bucky jogs over to him and picks him up, giving him a brief hug before pulling back and kneeling down to him.

"Todd, you're gonna see something kind of-"

"Is Steve hurt!?"

"No. Steve's fine. Everyone's fine." Bucky strokes his hair. "Bruce had to fight really hard today, and he's still the Hulk, that's all. He's not angry, but you have to be extra nice to him right now, okay?"

"Hulk!" Todd whispers, awed.

Steve trots down the stairs, gesturing to someone still in the plane as he walks toward Todd. "He wants to meet you, buddy, is that okay?"

"Can I hug him!?"

Bucky shares a look with Steve. "You... have to ask, first," he says.

"And we're going to remind him you're human," Steve adds.

Hulk peers out of the plane, shouldering through the door and skipping the steps entirely to just drop onto the concrete floor. It rumbles impressively.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiii," Todd yells, waving. When Hulk looks over, his eyes light up.

**

Bucky Barnes: Hulk totally refused to 'leave' because he wanted to hug Todd first

Steve Rogers: Agreed.

Tony Stark: +1

Clint Barton: duh

Sam Wilson: yep 

**

**

"<No, you can blend them like this, too.>" Todd bites his lower lip and puts the second crayon down, using the edge of his thumb to meld the blue and green together. Steve watches, impressed.

"That's very nice," Steve says. "Have you tried mixing it with the pencils?"

"It looked stupid." Todd rolls his eyes. "I'm not like that guy you showed me, I can't do... mixed mediums."

"Mixed media. And, you'll get there if you want to. Just takes time."

Todd looks at the streak of color on his thumb, wiping it off on a fresh sheet of paper before going back to his still life. Steve takes the abandoned sheet and picks up a piece of charcoal, setting about turning the smear into a dinosaur. (Todd never asks him to draw them anymore, but Steve knows he still likes them.)

**

**

“Why would someone wan’ clear?”

“This is base coat, and this is top coat.” Mabel points to each in turn. “Base coat is for before and top coat is for after.”

Todd examines them studiously, and to Steve’s amusement, the face reminds him of when Tony prods him to think critically during one of their ‘mini mech’ sessions. “To make it safe for your skin or to make it be stronger?”

Mabel shrugs. “I think stronger? So it doesn’t chip?” She starts rearranging the other bottles into a rainbow. There’s a dearth of yellows and pale greens, but the smaller, more glittery bottles which are probably Mabel’s and not her mother’s provide a few oranges, electric limes, and one particularly impressive magenta to round out the more demure reds and plums. “We’ll do base coat while you pick your color.”

“I already know which colors I want,” Todd informs her.

Mabel blinks. “One, though. You usually.. well, I guess there’s no rule.”

Todd backpedals. “Is it okay?”

She thinks it through, considering the possible unintended consequences. “Yes,” she says finally, “as long as Mr. Rogers helps us make sure they won’t clash.”

Chapter Text

As Todd gets older he seems to pick up a few outside social norms that don't quite run smoothly with what he's been doing at home. Steve never quite works out Todd's system for deciding which are important and which aren't, and he's not even sure there is a defined system.

The Avengers aren't really relatives but they're certainly more than housemates. Todd's hugs get less frequent with Tony and Clint, who bear it admirably, but when Sam spreads his arms out for a hug once Todd's back from school one day and is met with hesitance, he isn't having it.

"Todd-monster," Sam says very seriously, "I am waiting for my hug."

Todd skips forward guiltily, as if caught that he also wanted to engage in the hug, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck and squeezing back.

"You don't have to hug people if you don't wanna, but don't stop hugging to be cool, okay?"

"Mph."

"Hugs are very cool," Sam intones.

"Mph," Todd says again.

Steve squints. "Sam, let the kid breathe."

**

**

The private school has accelerated programs, which turns out to be beyond necessary, but Steve and Bucky make sure to keep a couple classes in his age range, and continue to throw small but very important kid parties at the Tower to keep Todd well-socialized. There's a weird article in a gossip rag, which does not get shown to Todd, which has a fictional account of what goes on when a child is invited to hang out with superheroes for a day.

"They fly with Thor," Steve reads bemusedly, causing Thor to look up from his breakfast with incredible confusion.

"No Midgardian parent I have ever met would permit such a thing."

"Of course not," Bruce says around his toast. "Skip down to the bottom, that's the best."

"The bottom? Oh, we give..." Steve blinks. "Avengers-themed gift bags?"

"That sounds like something Tony would do," Natasha comments.

Bucky nudges her shoulder. "It does," he agrees. "Except it'd all be Iron Man stuff."

Steve continues reading. "And we... wow, apparently they all get to try to lift Mjolnir. Why is so much of this stuff Thor-based?"

"I do get on well with children of any realm," Thor says with a shrug, and Bruce makes an agreeing noise around another mouthful of toast.

**

**

To keep supplementing his math and science interests, Bruce starts giving him small projects at home to do, and finally starts letting Todd pick his own. After a successful mini-recreation of Mendel's work on flowers, Todd asks to learn more about how the body processes sugar, and Bruce has to tell Bucky, in the most pleased of scientist uncle voices, that he is fairly sure Todd is trying to figure out how diabetes works in order to fix it.

**

**

Toward Jane's second trimester, Steve starts to help decorate the new baby room. This is largely because Todd wants to help decorate the new baby room, and someone has to reign him in and tell him 'no' sometimes.

"Why can you only have one mobile?" Todd asks, with that look in his eyes that says he's pretty sure he's on to something.

"A baby can't stare at four moving things at once," Steve says evenly.

Todd points to the one with the zoo animals, and then the one that is starlight themed, and then one that is exclusively, for an unknown reason, multicolored hippos. "But you could hang them up at different times. Or. Or Have one over the crib, and then also another one over the rocking chair. The baby's not just in one spot."

Steve looks to Bucky for help, but Bucky is rubbing at his mouth in the way that means he's trying to hide a smile.

"We don't want to overspend," Steve says finally.

Darcy smacks his bicep lightly. "I've seen what Stark stock is trading at. We can get two."

Todd does an excited hop and runs toward the stars one, clearly trying for a moment to figure out how to get the display one down before noticing the boxes underneath it.

**

**

"No," Todd says patiently, "the sleepover's at his house."

"He can come here." Bucky shrugs. "His brothers too. We've got extra mattresses."

Todd frowns. "He invited me. I can't tell him to... to have his party at my house. That's weird."

"Bucky," Natasha murmurs.

"We've got a pool," Bucky points out. "And a huge open space, and the television is enormous."

Steve tilts his head. "Bucky."

Bucky throws up his hands. "We - we have superheroes."

Todd looks up at him, face uncertain.

"What?" Bucky asks.

"They have a trampoline," Todd says quietly.

**

"It's going to be fine."

"It's n-" Bucky sucks in a breath, pacing the bedroom again. "I know I'm being crazy."

"You're not being crazy," Steve argues, then takes in a breath. "You're just... overreacting."

Bucky scrubs his hands over his face.

"Lots of parents stress out when their kid overnights somewhere else for the first time."

Bucky answers with a prolonged moan.

"I'm nervous too," Steve points out.

Bucky pulls his hands down enough to level a stare at him.

"Not as nervous as you, obviously, but maybe we can, I mean, it's not like when we were kids. We can text him." Steve sits up straighter at Bucky's expression. "Not every five minutes! Don't smother him! Mary and Joseph, Buck, you told me you never wanted to become a chopper parent."

"Helicopter parent," Bucky corrects snippily, and slides down the wall to land with a thud. "It's too far away. It's not even in the city."

"I know you don't like New Jersey, but-"

"I hate New Jersey."

"-but this is a huge milestone for Todd. It's good for his social development, it's almost imperative, and, and it might be good for you too." A beat. "I mean, over time. After you... after Todd's back and you can see nothing happened."

"Who's even keeping an eye on things in Jersey?"

Jarvis actually pipes up: "There are reports of a young girl in the Jersey City area working under the moniker of M-"

"I don't care about amateurs," Bucky snaps. "Okay. New plan. We get the address and I scope the place out beforehand, find a place nearby to-"

"Bucky."

There's a knock on the door. Both men jump.

"Bucky?" Todd calls. "Lee just texted me, and his mom's asking how much food she's gotta make. Can I go?" A beat. "...please?"

Steve watches Bucky's expression fall from alarmed to cornered to resigned. "Yeah, pal," Bucky says through the door. "You can go."

**

Steve stays up with Bucky that night until about four, which is when Nat takes over. The police scanners and the local alert notifications are numerous and blissfully, gloriously quiet.

(There's also a display showing the readouts from the tracer watch, which monitors Todd's heartbeat. A compromise struck with Todd's happy agreement and Tony's help. Steve goes to sleep in his own bed that night knowing that Bucky's still watching the even, soothing beats float across the screen.)

Chapter Text

The digital masks work really well for the team when going out incognito, so it's only a matter of time.

Todd stares at himself in the mirror, poking his nose and chin experimentally. The appearance of his nose and chin indent softly in time with his finger. "Why didn't we use these before?"

Steve looks at Bucky guiltily, who takes a deep breath. "We tried once, when you were younger," he says slowly. "You took one look at my face and started screaming your head off."

Todd frowns and turns around. "Did you put a scary face on?" He sounds skeptical that Bucky would do something so mean.

"No. I think you just thought I'd disappeared or turned into somebody else. Took about an hour to calm you down."

"Oh." Todd looks back a the mirror and starts fiddling with the edge of the mask near his ear. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You were too little to understand, is all." Bucky smiles. "Kinda freaked me out too. Some li'l kid with your body and the wrong face..."

"I think we all look silly," Todd declares.

Steve grins and activates his voice modulation. "Well, are you ready to be silly and go get some burgers?"

Todd's eyes go huge and after a pause, he bursts into laughter.

**

The diner is nice, if noisy. A few people glare at the two nondescript white men with the black child, but Steve is beyond used to it. Bucky, as usual, is too busy hovering over Todd to notice anyone that isn't a threat. The radio is playing rock music that Steve is pretty sure is from the fifties or sixties.

After the wing appetizer is picked over, Todd wipes his hands on the napkin on his lap. "Can I be excused?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, and points toward the hallway where the restrooms are. Todd slides off his chair but goes the wrong direction, going to the front door... no, to the hostess... and scooting into her line of sight.

"What's he doing?" Bucky murmurs.

"Dunno." Steve leans back and cants his head, looking at a black and white photo framed above the kitchen door as he listens in.

"...too loud for B- for my dad. Can you make it quieter?"

"Sure, honey, I'll tell the manager." Footsteps.

"Thank you." Smaller footsteps. Steve sits up straighter and pretends to occupy himself with putting everyone's chicken bones in the basket so it can be taken away.

Bucky's voice is a little strange, although it's hard to tell with the modulation on top: "Everything okay, pal?"

"Uh-huh." Todd climbs back into his chair and frowns at his glass. "But I need more water."

Steve pets his head. "I think they'll give us more for free."

Todd makes the classic expression of a child unable to cope with their parent. "S- ... come on."

"The future's amazing like that," Steve continues, face earnest.

Todd rolls his eyes and makes an annoyed face, but he's smiling.

**

**

Tony shuts the lab door behind Steve, which is unusual.

"Okay, I lied. There's no new helmet to look at."

Steve immediately crosses his arms. "So why did you bring me down here?"

"To look at something else? Something I want to show Bucky, but I'm going to need your help in softening him up to it. It's kind of..." Tony tilts his hand back and forth as he strolls toward one of the tables, gesturing until a hologram folder appears for him to sort through. When he opens up the three-dimensional blueprint, Steve thinks for a moment that Tony has made an Iron Man suit for Bucky. But the proportions are wrong; the torso short and the limbs slimmer, and things start to fall into-

"No."

"It's an evac suit. Not designed to engage. Well, I mean, I put a few things on it just in case he gets intercepted, but it's not like he'd be driving the thing. It's purely for-"

"This is insane." Steve walks forward and starts gesturing for the folder to close and go into the far corner, where Tony keeps his trashcan. Tony's eyes go wide and he gestures to counteract Steve's motions, trying not to show how surprised he is that Steve knows how to throw something out.

"What would be insane," Tony says, "is not having a plan for if the Tower gets-"

"We have a plan. Bucky would take him to-"

"Bucky might not be fast enough."

Steve levels a glare at Tony, who bites back another comment before pushing on: "If something attacks the Tower, and he's in the Tower, I assume you want the fastest and safest method possible of getting him out of the Tower. This is equipped to fly him all the way to Spain if he needs to, but obviously, that's plan, like, F; the first place it would take him to is the farm. Jarvis would pilot it, talk him through what was going on, we'd have a read on him the whole time."

Steve looks at Tony, forcing himself to calm down, and then back at the suit. The projection is glistening in a way that isn't familiar to him.

"It's some of my small-fry cloaking technology," Tony explains. "If people can't see him fly out, they can't tail him."

Steve reaches forward to splay an hand across the schematic, shooting Tony a look as he does so to make sure he's not contradicted. Slowly he widens the image up and inspects the details. The shoulders and the mask all have the hallmarks of Tony's latest suit. "Let me take a guess."

"Shoot."

"You already put this into production."

"I'll only answer that if you promise not to be mad about it."

Steve looks at the suit, then Tony, then the suit again.

"I'll talk to Bucky."

"I can talk to him."

Steve and Tony turn around. Todd, who is rubbing his nose with the hand not edging the door open, is looking at the blueprint with some interest.

"Todd, why did you sneak in here?"

"Because Tony said he wanted to show you a helmet, but he made the face he makes when he's hiding a cool secret, sooooo." He comes in the rest of the way, climbing up onto a nearby stool to see the hologram better. "What color is it?"

"No color, technically." Tony glances sidelong at Steve in that way that means he's trying to gauge how much shit he's in.

**

**

"Steve!"

Steve turns just in time to see Todd before he gets pulled into an empty classroom. "Todd, what - what's going on?"

Todd gives him an exasperated look, gesturing emphatically to... to all of him. "You're not wearing it," he hisses, as if he doesn't want the students in the hallway to hear.

Steve looks down at his civilian clothes. "Was I supposed to?" He looks out of the small window in the door, peeking at the other parents and guardians. The police chief is there and wearing his uniform, but most of the others are dressed casually. (He recognizes a few Senators dressed in slacks, and the Vice President is actually wearing blue jeans.) "I mean, I'm sure the kids will recognize-"

"Yeah, but the suit is cool. You were supposed to-" Todd makes an anxious sound and waves his arms around. "You have to be cool!"

"I am cool," Steve says, for what feels like the millionth time in the last six months.

Todd lets out a huff of a sigh. "Okay. Just. Just - say that you couldn't wear it today. Say that it's covered in blood."

"Todd. My Captain America suit is not covered in blood."

"Liiiiiiiiieeeeee."

**

Career day in a private school full like this is mostly uneventful. There are only so many government officials who can stand in front of middle schoolers and break down what they do without inducing sleep, and there is clearly a bit of a letdown when Josh's father works for NASA but turns out to not be an astronaut. The resulting disappointed stares are not lost on Steve as he awaits his turn, although Todd makes sure to give him a meaningful look to drive the point home.

"I hate these things," the Speaker of the House murmurs, earrings jingling as she turns to smile at him. Steve remembers her from one of Tony's fundraiser parties. She was nice. "I've got two older girls, so I've already had to do this twice."

Steve winces sympathetically. "Any tips?"

"Are you kidding? You've got nothing to worry about. No talk of how bills move through the House and Senate, no lobbyists..."

"We've got more paperwork than you might expect," Steve confides.

"Well, leave that part out." She grins. "Stick to the punching."

The Surgeon General is explaining how experimental drugs are tested before entering the market to be purchased. A girl in the front row looks like her head is about to drop onto her desk.

"Punching," Steve reiterates, and sits up a little straighter.

**

"Class, please thank Dr. Melhorn for his presentation." A small bout of applause rises up and then dies down. "Next is Mist- I'm sorry, Captain Rogers, Todd's guardian. Captain Rogers?"

Steve gets up and walks to the front of the classroom, smoothing his hands down his slacks and looking out over the crowd. A dozen kids. He can do this.

"Hi, everyone." He waves hand. "My name is Steve Rogers, and I'm-"

"Where's your suit?"

The teacher shushes the boy in the back row, but the damage has been done. A murmur of pre-teen disapproval ripples through the room.

"Well," Steve says, rallying, "it's, um. I decided not to wear it. Well, you see, it needed to be cleaned." Damn it. "There was some blood on it."

A hush falls on the room.

"Cool," the girl in the front row whispers.

Chapter Text

 The audio from the dungeon isn't responding, which Doom cannot account for. His captives are no threat to his safety, so he goes down to investigate the issue himself.

"I did it," a young boy says. Unlike the other children in the cell, this one is pressed to the bars, as if to get as close to Doom as possible. "I'm sorry I broke something, but I reaalllly need to talk to you."

Doom gazes at the other faces - a senator's daughter, an ambassador's son, the list goes on - and deduces by process of elimination that this must be the Barnes boy. The papers have almost never been able to catch him without a digital mask, if Doom remembers correctly. His authentic face doesn't have the terror of the other children... rather, deep concern.

"I trust you understand that you and your friends will come to no harm here, as long as your parents comply with my wishes."

The youth nods politely.

"Then why have you caused the microphones in here to malfunction? Do you wish to test Doom's patience?"

"You need to let us go, Mr. Doom." The boy - Todd Barnes - scoots closer and reaches past the bars, putting his hand on Doom's gauntlet. It is such an unexpected move that Doom does not even have the opportunity to move away from it. He stares at the small dark hand on the reflective chrome, then at the boy's face again. "You could get really hurt."

"There is no risk of that, child. The same Doom-Bots that whisked you away from your 'field trip' now encircle this castle, and are scattered across the fields around us, ready to-" The boy's shaking his head vigorously. "You really have such blind faith in your family that you think they can save you from anything, do you?"

"Not... anything," Todd says, choosing his words carefully.

Behind his mask, Doom arches a brow. "Ah, but I do not meet your standards of a true threat?"

This seems to throw the boy off balance a little, and it appears to be because he realizes he's been rude. "You're very scary," Todd says quickly. "Look, they're all scared." He gestures behind him. "Mako - that's her there - she tried three times to stop me from getting you down here. She's scared of your mask." He pulls his hand away and wraps it around the bar. "There's, um, this nice lady from Korea. I've only met her a few times, but she's super nice and super smart, and I bet she could help you with your face."

"Excuse me?"

"Only if you don't like it! If," Todd takes a breath, "if you like it, then don't do an'thing to it, but if you wear the scary mask because you don't like your face... you could change it. To how it was before. Or change it to something else!" The boy practically giggles at the idea. "You could look like anything."

"Or I suppose I could wear a digital mask, as you often do."

The boy's eyes practically light up. "Yeah! That's a really good idea!"

His lack of fear would be indicative of a simple mind, if it were not for the fact that he managed to cause such an unexpected disturbance to initiate the conversation he wanted. "You are almost impressive."

Todd seems torn between a frown and a hopeful smile. "Th... anks?"

"Do not do this again. I have no interest in harming children. Do you understand this?"

The child pauses, then nods. "What do you want?"

"My homeland," Doom says quietly, kneeling down. Something about getting to the boy's level makes his eyes widen, his pupils shrink just a little in what finally must be fear. "It is mine by birthright; the blood of its kings runs in my veins. I am the one who can bring us back from the rubble of the wars and dominate the totality of Europe." Behind his mask, his grin is cold. "And eventually much further than that."

Todd looks confused. "Oh."

"Still so little faith in me, young one?"

"No, just. In Geography, they said Latveria has been a constitutional democracy since, um," Todd falters. "Mako! Was it 19, um, 1989?"

Mako gives him a panicked look that says she has no interest in engaging in this conversation, then turns her head toward the far wall.

"Mako knows," Todd says, turning back to Doom. "Anyway, why are you doing this when you could just run for-" His face switches to shock and confusion when the ground trembles, and switches again to excitement at the sound of cobblestone crumbling about half a kilometer to the southwest. Doom surmises that it must be the exterior wall, which would need the equivalent force of several-

"Surrender!" Todd suggests happily.

"Get to the back of the cell with the other children," Doom snaps. He turns on his heel and prepares to deal with whoever has managed to get past his perimeter forces.

"If you say you surrender, they won't hit you," Todd yells after him, and clearly he thinks he is helping. Doom grits his teeth and pulls out his latest shock baton from underneath his cape, readying it at his side and rounding the corner to the east.

More stone crumbling under incredible force. The mutated one. Hulk. It must be-

An enormous hand punches through the corridor wall to his left and closes around his head.

"GIVE TODD NOW."

Chapter Text

Jane and Thor traveled to Asgard to deliver the baby, and stay for a few months for a much deserved vacation. When they finally return to Earth, Brenna can hold her head up a little and peer around the room in a deep cloud of sleepiness and suspicion.

"She's so little. She's soooo little." Todd nudges Bucky's side. "Was I that little when you found me?"

"You were smaller, actually." Bucky quirks a little smile and watches as Jane sets the baby back in her carrier. It slightly clashes with the diaphanous gown-meets-baby-sack that Jane must have had tailor made for her back on Asgard. Brenna's little hands open and clutch around thin air and she careens her neck to make sure Jane isn't moving too far away. "And you definitely didn't have a getup like that."

Todd lowers his voice. "Do you think I can hold her?"

"You're ten, buddy. I think you can handle it."

"Yeah, but. She's really, really small."

**

Mabel visits with a baby gift she clearly insisted on wrapping herself. Jane opens the gift with careful hands, setting the balloon-and-confetti patterned paper aside. Wordlessly, Thor begins smoothing it out and folding it.

"This is what Jane's mother does with gift paper," Thor whispers to Steve, noticing his attention. "Am I not doing it correctly?"

Steve shakes his head and gives a big thumbs up. Thor looks visibly relieved.

"Aww, I love it!" Jane smiles and holds the tiny raincoat up by its shoulders, displaying it to the room. "Thank you so much."

"It's too big," Mabel says, "and she can't walk yet, so she doesn't need one yet? But Mom said it's okay to give stuff that's too big for babies because they grow so fast."

"Very thoughtful," Jane assures her.

**

Todd reads lullabies off of Jarvis's holoscreens, singing them to Brenna when she's fussy. Todd's not the best in the house at calming her down, but he's definitely the most persistent, enduring the cries and screams and bouncing her gently in his lap until she wears herself out.

Sometimes Bucky will sit and watch him sing.