Brain Chemicals
Two weeks after Clint’s original arrival the boy had become more comfortable in the house. He trusted Phil to watch his back, trusted him enough that he stopped trying to protect himself from everything. Instead he was just wary. He overanalyzed things, but he let his outside guard drop enough to relax.
During those weeks though, Clint had met Scott and Sam who had helped him with school work and got a basic knowledge of how it worked. He was on a waiting list to be tested for dyslexia as soon as possible. For now he stuttered along through his books.
The transitions weren't as rough as Phil expected. After the first 3 days, things really leveled out and became more normal again. The seizures continued daily, but the absence of the tonic clonic ones were a relief for Phil.
Instead, the new concern was drop seizures.
“AW SHIT!” Tony yelled from the kitchen. “Puppy’s dead again!” He called, hauling Clint up and onto a chair. “Almost freaky, you’d think he just died and I’m dragging his corpse,” Tony muttered but in good nature as he glanced at Bucky.
“But he’s already had 2 this afternoon,” Bucky pointed out. “That can't be good.”
Tony shrugged, keeping Clint supported until he could wake up. “Dunno. These drop ones are kinda scary though. I like the blank ones better.”
“I think everybody likes the blank ones better,” Bucky pointed out, helping Clint orient himself when he opened his eyes.
“One of these days he’s gonna drown himself in the shower or something,” Tony muttered, shaking his head with a smile and then ruffling Clint's hair as he got up to finish making dinner.
Bucky shoed Tony off before going back to his homework, Clint resting his head on the table.
“The medication is supposed to be working,” he muttered, his voice half a complaint.
“Well how many did you used to have a day?”
He shrugged. “Maybe 12?”
“And that’s your 3rd today. I’d say that it’s working pretty good then,” Bucky pointed out, but he knew what Clint meant. He knew what it was like to want to be whole again. Cured, actually okay. Sure, alleviating things was great, but it was annoying to never have things normal.
The younger boy gave a sigh. “I know. But I keep hitting my elbows and it’s annoying,” he huffed.
“Hey, Clint, you alright?” Phil asked as he walked through the room.
“Yeah, tired,” he muttered, crossing his arms and sitting back on his chair with a frown.
Phil nodded, reutring with a cup of water for him. “Hydrate. That’s important.”
“Yes sir,” he said jokingly, taking a sip of the water. It felt good in his throat but it settled odd in his stomach which was just as sick as Clint was of this rollercoaster.
“You know, school is almost over,” the older man noted as he looked at the calendar on the wall. “One more week?”
“Yeah, one more, the middle school finishes in two though,” Bucky agreed.
He thought about it before giving a hum and a nod. “We should plan something for the summer. A project. Oh and Clint, your birthday will be here in 3 weeks. Do you have any ideas?”
Clint looked confused as he maneuvered around his chair to see Phil. “Ideas?”
“For what you’d like to do,” Bucky explained. “On your birthday we typically get good food and cake and celebrate it. So sometimes we do stuff like laser tag or go to the park or zoo.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t have to come up with it right now, you can decide later,” Bucky assured him, standing up to pack up his work. “Phil, my rides here in ten, I’ll be back for Group tonight,” he assured him, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.
“Sounds good, Buck. Be safe,” he reminded his foster-son before Bucky was out the door and hopping into his friend's car.
Clint watched with a frown before going back to his school work.
“What’s with the sad face?” Phil asked, scooting into the chair Bucky had occupied.
The boy looked up and shrugged.
When Phil didn’t say anything more Clint gave a loud sigh that sounded very much like Tony’s dramatic exhales.
“Fine, I cave,” he relented, glancing at Phil. “I just. I don’t know. Ever since that day Bucky’s been treating me differently…”
“You mean kind?”
“Yeah, well. He doesn't tease me anymore! And like. He’s being weird.”
Phil sighed softly. “He’s being nice. I think we’re all just working on giving this place a chance and seeing how it can go.”
Clint rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter anyways. I’ll be gone.”
“Huh?”
He looks at Phil, his eyes so bright and brilliant but sharp like a weapon. “I’ll be gone soon. They said this was a temporary place until they could find someone who wants me.”
Phil hid a grimace at the phrasing of the words but he nodded slowly. “We’re starting to think maybe you’ll just stay with us.”
The boy’s brows narrowed and then he seemed to come to the epiphany because he tilted his head a bit and said in a neutral voice, “You mean nobody’s gonna take me in because they don’t wanna deal with my mess. So since you already agreed to be the temp house, you’re stuck with me.”
“Stuck isn’t the right word for this, Clint. It’s not some throw away thing or our last option. We’re gonna take you in because we want you here with us. We want to help you.”
“Still don’t get that,” he muttered, standing up now.
“Where are you going?”
“Basement. Need help in Science,” he explained.
The basement had become Tony and Bruce’s second bedroom. Ever since Tony realized how brilliant Bruce was, the two had become inseparable, bouncing ideas off the wall and each other. They spent hours holed up in their working on projects and experiments and it seemed to help Bruce open up a lot more.
He became less shy and stuttery and more open, using wide gestures when he talked and grinning at Tony’s comments on his work. Overall the boy had come out of his shell and Phil was glad to see the progress.
Having the two bunk in the same room only increased their chatter and friendship. Since Clint had been transferred to stay with Bucky so the older boy could watch for seizures, Bruce and Tony had been shuffled around. Their room was now an absolute death trap and filled with ‘organized’ messes according to Stark.
“Did you find any ideas for the monitoring?” Maria asked, sitting down on the chair next to Phil as he read the newspaper from a few weeks ago.
“I don’t know,” he shook his head tiredly. He was still tired. Always tired. “Some suggested medical alert bracelets, or a supervisor. Some of these parents have kids who have neurological and cognitive disorders though. And Clint doesn't need a full time caretaker,” Phil explained. “And he’d go insane if someone was always over his shoulder.”
Maria nodded thoughtfully, understanding the depth of this problem. “What did the nurse suggest?”
“Medical alert stuff. Bracelets, necklaces, all that. But half the time I don’t even think the kid knows when he’s about to seize. And I just. The alert would help the aftermath be less substantial. But I’d like the seizure itself to be less substantial.”
“You’re thinking about treatment? More medication? A surgery?”
Phil sighed, his thumb absently rubbing under his jaw in calming circles. A self regulating stim he used all the time.
“I can’t put him through a surgery, I know that much.”
“Understandable,” Maria agreed.
“Medication.. Well he’s already reached a pretty high dose and chemistry gets tricky with his other meds. I don’t know anymore. I’m gonna have another talk with the doctor next week.”
“Alright, Phil,” Maria nodded, her hand resting on his arm. “Don’t wear yourself to thin”
He smiled, feeling a bit better as he thanked her and let her go.
Phil had many ideas of what he’d come home to but this wasn’t one of them…
“Come on guys, it’ll be fun,” Tony whined, grinning hugely when finally Bucky relented. “Besides, I wanna see Clint’s face when I wipe the floor.”
“Oh shut up. Maria?!” Bucky called.
“What’s the problem?”
“My, I’m almost offended that’s the first thing you think of,” Tony mocked, hurt before rolling his eyes with another devilish grin. “Bucky and I are gonna go to the arcade to play some ping pong, is that alright?”
Bucky elbowed him in the ribs. “And Clint.”
“Oh yeah, and Clint too,” he remembered.
“Fine. Be back before 8,” she warned as the older boys grinned.