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“Mr. Barton?”
Clint looked down at Coulson, who was still stuck as a 9-year-old. According to SHIELD’s science division, he’d be stuck like that for another two months. Clint still wasn’t even remotely used to it.
“What is it, buddy?”
Coulson paused. “I need school supplies. Could you please take me shopping?”
“What? Fury’s making you go to school?” Clint said. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”
Coulson frowned. “It was my idea.” At Clint’s pause, he added, “I’m nine. I’m supposed to be in school.”
“Oh. Okay. Yeah, sure. We’ll pick out school clothes too, okay?” Coulson had been wearing the same couple of shirts and pants around the Tower for weeks. Pepper had bought them on the first day Phil got de-aged, and they were very nice – little white dress shirts with khaki pants – but Clint figured Phil might get his ass kicked if he showed up at school like that. Besides, Clint remembered what it was like to show up at school wearing the wrong thing and not knowing anybody, and he didn’t want Phil to experience that.
Phil grinned at him. “Can we go now?”
Clint was supposed to go to target practice now.
“Uh. Yeah, sure.”
Clint got up and Coulson grabbed his hand as they walked toward the elevator. It was strange for Clint, having a child trust him so completely. He wasn’t used to be the fucking responsible adult in the room. But it wasn’t all that bad, hanging out with little Phil.
He was starting to realize that he was going to miss the kid when they found a solution. But that just made him feel like a shitty friend to the adult Coulson.
--
Apparently, school supplies wasn’t just pencils and erasers. There was a whole list that the school gave them. Colored pencils, a pencil box a certain size, exactly 200 3x5 notecards, and no, 6x8 notecards don’t count so you might have to visit another store if one is out, plus special sized notebooks and binders. And a crapload of other stuff, including a special calculator that Clint didn’t think most adults would be able to use. And if Phil wanted a snack, they had to pack him from a list of approved snacks. Which sounded idiotic to Clint.
They also bought Coulson some T-shirts and jeans, since Clint figured those wouldn’t have gone out of style. Of course, Coulson bought 5 different Captain America T-shirts. And a Captain America backpack, lunchbox, and tennis shoes. Clint thought it was weird to put people’s faces on shoes, but Coulson really liked them. The shoes lit up when you walked, and Clint explained that this would make it impossible for Coulson to sneak around at night, but Coulson didn’t seem to think that was important. Just in case the other kids made fun of him, Clint said he had to buy one shirt that wasn’t Captain America.
Coulson looked a long time and didn’t seem to find anything he liked. Finally, he held up a bright green T-shirt that had a picture of the Hulk on it.
“I’m going to get this one,” Coulson said. “I think it will make Dr. Banner happy.”
“You think so?” Clint asked. Bruce wasn’t really a fan of Hulk merchandise.
“I think it will show that I value his contributions.”
It was such a Coulson thing to say that Clint just nodded and got out his wallet.
--
When they got home, Coulson proudly showed Steve all his new clothes and backpack and lunchbox and shoes. Steve nodded and patted Coulson on the head, and Coulson just beamed. (When Coulson turned his back, Steve gave a look to Clint, who just shrugged as if to say What could I do about it?)
Coulson went to Bruce then and showed him the Hulk T-shirt. “I got this because you’re a hero too, Dr. Banner. Will you sign it for me please?”
Bruce’s face softened. “Of course I will.”
He did, and Coulson thanked him politely.
“They didn’t have any Hawkeye or Black Widow T-shirts,” Coulson said to Natasha.
“They’d better not,” Natasha said. She patted the seat next to her and Coulson climbed up on the couch and sat there.
“Will you please help me fill out my forms for starting school?” he asked her. Clint smiled. Even little Coulson knew to ask Natasha, not Clint, to handle the paperwork.
“Sure,” she said. “And when we’re done, I’ll teach you how to make chicken and dumpling soup.”
Coulson smiled. “That sounds like fun. Thank you.”
“Hey, you know what sounds like more fun than that?” Tony jumped in, “Who wants a PIGGY BACK RIDE???”
Coulson answered, “No, thank you, Mr. Stark. I need to get ready for school tomorrow.”
“Oh. Yeah, fine.” Tony looked highly annoyed and Clint and Natasha smirked at each other. Little Coulson was respectful to all adults but didn’t seem to have much interest in Tony at all. Tony would never admit it, but it was clearly driving him crazy. He had even made Coulson a series of rather advanced and possibly industry-changing robot toys, that Coulson had politely thanked him for and proceeded to play with his Captain America action figures and a cardboard box.
“Hey, Stark,” Clint said, “I’ll take a piggy back ride.”
“Shut up, Barton.”
“What? I was trying to make you feel better.”
--
The first afternoon that Coulson went to school, his school’s office called the Avengers Tower.
It was a good thing there wasn’t an alien invasion that day.
“You should go,” Pepper told Steve, “Who’s going to say no to Captain America?”
“You should come too,” Steve said to her.
“I’m coming too,” Tony said. “I practically paid for that school’s science labs.”
“We can’t make this about money,” Steve said.
“Guys. This is about convincing a principal that Coulson shouldn’t be in trouble, right?” Clint said.
“Yeah.”
“Let me repeat that. This is about convincing someone to do what we want.”
“Natasha,” they all said at once in agreement.
She nodded. “Clint will accompany, in case we need to do good cop, bad cop.”
“What’s Natasha’s version of good cop, bad cop?” Steve whispered to Clint.
“The good cop is the one who gags the guy to stop the screaming.”
--
When Clint and Natasha arrived at the principal’s office, they found Coulson sitting in a chair too big for him, looking calm and collected. He was holding a booklet that appeared to be the School Policies.
The principal gestured for them to sit. “This young man got into a fist fight on his very first day. I don’t know what kind of school he is used to, but that is not ever acceptable at this school.”
Phil opened the booklet and pointed out a passage. “School policy clearly states that self-defense is permitted, and this was a case of self-defense.”
“That refers to teachers defending themselves,” the principal answered.
“That’s not specified in the book,” Coulson said authoritatively.
Clint smiled.
Natasha said, “How did the fight start, Phil?”
“The other kids were making fun of me. They were big kids from the older grades. They said I was a dork. And that Captain America sucks.”
Clint grimaced. Steve was not going to like it if Phil got kicked out of school defending his honor.
Phil continued, “And then I said, ‘I don’t care what you say, because you’re stupid anyway.’ And then they shoved my books to the ground. And I said that if they did that again, then I would tell on them. Then they tried to shove me into a locker. And I pushed back, and they tried to hit me. So I punched the leader in the solar plexus, swiped the other two guys in the knees, and then the fourth guy saw the others lying on the floor and he ran away.” Coulson said the whole thing matter-of-fact-ly.
“And how exactly did you know how to do that?” the principal asked.
“I taught him,” Natasha said, giving him a hard stare. “You don’t really think I’d send him defenseless into this den of snot and chaos, do you?”
Clint didn’t know when she had found the time to train little Coulson, but Clint wasn’t all that surprised that she had. Maybe it was during paperwork time. Hell, maybe ‘chicken dumplings’ was a code word for all he knew.
“That is not appropriate,” the principal said, outraged.
Natasha looked at Clint and smiled. “Could you please take Phil into the hallway for a moment?”
“Sure.” Clint tried not to smirk as he took Coulson by the hand and led him out.
When they were out of the office, Clint said, “Don’t worry, Coulson. Natasha will make sure you’re not in trouble.”
“I know,” Coulson said, like it were obvious.
They waited there quietly for a while.
“Hey, Coulson? Do you like being a kid?”
Coulson paused to think about the question. “Yes. It’s fun. And everyone’s very, very nice to me.”
“You don’t sound totally sure.”
Coulson looked up at him. “I like drawing pictures with Mr. Rogers. I like having tea parties with Ms. Potts. I like it when Dr. Banner reads me books, and I like it when Natasha teaches me things. And I like when you play with me. You do really good voices when we play action figures. And you’re the only one who lets me do stuff like jump off the high diving board at the pool or eat three cupcakes or play tackle with kids at the park.”
Clint didn’t realize that. He was pretty sure that meant that he was doing something wrong.
Coulson continued, “But I know I’m supposed to be an adult. And when I’m adult, I get to fight bad guys and help people and all sorts of really important stuff. And drawing and swimming and tea parties are all really fun, but I want to do grown up stuff too.” Coulson sighed. “They keep saying the cure is more complicated they thought. What if they can’t ever fix me?” He looked down at his shoes.
Clint drew him closer, put an arm on his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo, they’re going to put you right. And you have plenty of time to kick bad guys’ asses, so right now you’re job is to have as much fun as you can as a kid. Okay? You want to be good at your job, right?”
“Yeah,” Coulson said, aware even at his age of the manipulation.
“So don’t worry.”
Coulson paused. “Okay. I’ll try to focus on having fun.”
Just then, Natasha came out of the office. She looked satisfied.
“Should I order a cleanup crew?” Clint asked.
“Unnecessary. The bullies will be punished, Coulson will return to class, and the school will be implementing a full security system as well as a thorough anti-bullying program,” she replied.
Coulson smiled up at her. “Thank you, Ms. Romanov.”
“You’re very welcome. Now go to class, and remember to tell everyone that you beat up the bigger boys so they all know not to mess with you.”
Coulson just turned around and headed toward class, but as he turned away from Natasha, he gave Clint a look that clearly said he intended to do no such thing.
“You would totally be one of those helicopter moms,” Clint said to her.
“Is that a mom who uses helicopters to gain a tactical advantage when taking a building?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what it means.”
--
Two months later….
“So, in summary, while I do not remember any of my time as a child, I have been informed that I received an excellent level of child care from the Avengers team, and I am very grateful to you personally, but I am also very proud of all of you, as your handler, for how well you came together and worked as a team under such unusual circumstances.” Coulson smiled at all of them, and called the meeting to an end.
“Good to have you back, big Coulson,” Tony said, and gave him a hug. The others soon followed.
They shuffled out of the meeting room, but Natasha lingered, and Clint stayed to find out why.
“I’m glad to have the chance to talk to both of you,” Coulson said when he noticed. “I heard that you two especially did a lot for me when I was in my altered state. Thank you so much, both of you.”
“Any time, Phil,” Clint said.
Natasha folded her arms. “You don’t remember anything? You expect us to believe that?”
Coulson sighed and smiled. He was always proud of Natasha’s skills, even when it didn’t work to his advantage. “Okay. I may remember a couple of things. And I remember how nice you were. I really enjoyed… you know, the time we spent together.”
Clint was oddly touched by this. Natasha was too, Clint knew, even if her face didn’t show it.
“We liked you, too,” she said. “But we’re also grateful to have you back.”
“I appreciate that.”
They hugged, then, and it was awkward – with the Avengers, there were always hugs, and so they had just grown tolerant of them, but when it was just them, just the agents, it felt weird to hug. But they did it anyway.
“One thing I still don’t understand,” Clint said after. “Why didn’t you like Tony? Kids love Tony.”
Coulson shrugged. “Tony can be exasperating.”
Natasha and Clint looked at each other. This time, they could both read the lie.
“Fine,” Coulson said, looking embarrassed. “Remember how you guys all told JARVIS to make nutritious meals for me?”
“Yeah.”
“JARVIS said it would be funny if I acted like nothing Tony did could impress me. He said Tony wouldn’t be able to handle it, and it would be hilarious. And let’s be frank, it was. But anyway, JARVIS said that he would give me full access to the ice cream freezer if I acted with polite indifference to everything Tony did.”
“That’s a very impressive prank for someone your age,” Natasha observed with approval.
“The computer deserves most of the credit,” Phil acknowledged. “You two should probably get home now. I have plenty of work to catch up on.”
They nodded and left.
“Should we tell Tony?” Clint asked with a smile.
He knew what she would say: “Hell, no.”
--
When Clint and Natasha got home, they found the Avengers and Pepper opening presents.
“Coulson sent us thank you gifts for taking care of him,” Tony said and pointed them toward theirs.
Clint opened his, a large box with little wrapping, and found several long sticks of parsana wood. It made for the best bows, and Clint liked to carve his own, but it was expensive and SHIELD didn’t think the quality justified the price.
He saw Natasha smiling at her new throwing knives. Tony and Bruce had both received some kind of scientific metal that was really rare and good to experiment with and that apparently even Stark couldn’t get because of tight regulations on it. Steve just got colored pencils, but apparently they were the special artists' kind that were really expensive, and Steve was pretty excited. Pepper had received a very delicate looking teapot with cups and saucers, from some authentic company that has made china for hundreds of years or something – Clint didn’t really listen to all the details, but the tea set had soft red flowers on it, and it looked pretty.
“And this is from Fury,” Tony reminded them, and held up an envelope. “He said he found it with Phil’s things.”
They pulled several pieces of paper out of the envelope. They were crayon drawings that Phil had made while still a child, one of each of them. They were drawn carefully, with the coloring in the lines, but their heads were all oversized and their hair was mostly just a scribble. Even Clint had to think that the pictures were pretty adorable.
There was a picture of Pepper and little Coulson, sitting and watching a movie on TV together. There was a picture of Tony introducing little Coulson to Dummy. There was a picture of Bruce helping Coulson with his math homework, with Coulson’s little hands replaced by green fists – in a thought bubble, Bruce was telling little Coulson how to smash the least common denominator. He drew Steve in his Captain America costume, every detail correct; Steve was helping Coulson color with one hand, while punching twenty HYDRA agents with the other. He drew Natasha and himself making a big pot of soup, with both of them saying in unison “Delicious!!!” Clint figured that this meant “chicken and dumplings” wasn’t really a code word for anything. Unless even the picture was in code….
Clint held the picture Coulson drew of him for a minute, then. It was Clint and Coulson at the park. Clint had pushed him too hard on the swings and Coulson had flown off; Clint had barely dived to the ground fast enough to catch him in time, and Clint remembered the experience as rather harrowing. But in the picture, little Coulson had a thought bubble above his head saying “I knew you would catch me!” Clint looked big in the picture, protective as his arms caught the child, and both of their faces had big smiles. There was a big sun in the sky who was smiling too, even though it was cloudy that day.
Clint tried really hard not to tear up.
He looked around and saw the others similarly faking nonchalance.
“Why the hell did Fury send us these?” Tony said, faking it worst.
“Because he’s a manipulative bastard,” Bruce said casually.
“What else is new,” Steve grumbled, and they laughed.
Clint nudged Natasha. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he whispered.
“Yeah.”
“So, like… I shouldn’t ever have a kid, right? I would be like the shittiest father ever,” Clint said.
She narrowed her eyes. “You would do just fine. But you would probably not be good at disciplining a child. You might need the help of a godmother,” she added, twinkle in her eye.
“Wouldn’t dream of doing it any other way,” Clint said with a grin, grateful for her answer. He looked down at the picture again, and noticed that Natasha was looking down at hers too.