Autism
Tony’s stimming is always worse when Bruce is gone. And after almost a week of the man being away on his business trip, almost all of the training Howard forced into him went out of the window and it took everything Tony had to be seen as normal .
Tony walked into the common kitchen and was met with the whole team, sans Bruce. He vaguely noticed his fingers repeatedly snapping at his sides as he counted the steps to the table. He forced away the counting and sat down, staring at his hands.
“Good morning…?” Steve said.
Tony wanted to slap himself. He forgot to go through his mental checklist. Howard would have been pissed. “Good morning. How are you guys?” People find it rude if you do not address the room when entering.
“Could be better, I got a big ass bruise from yesterday's doombots takedown,” Clint huffed, shoving pancakes into his mouth.
Tony’s breath picked up trying to think of a response. Was Clint’s statement supposed to be funny? Was he sad about his injury? Was he angry? Tony didn’t have Bruce to help him out on this one. “I’m not surprised. You’re the clumsiest one on the team, birdbrain” he went with.
He figured by the tightening of Clint’s face he chose the wrong response. “Fuck you, Stark.”
“That was low, Tony,” Steve said, his face twisted in what Tony recognized as disappointment . Or was it anger ? He should freshen up on his emotional cue cards.
Howard always used to tell him that Starks never apologize. So what was he to say in this situation? “Don’t worry, I saw Sam trip on air too, yesterday. Must be the bird nicknames.” Again, his joke must have been the wrong response as more frowns were seen.
Sam, who had just woken up, walked into the kitchen just in time to see everyone frown at him. “What?”
Natasha relayed the conversation to him and Sam immediately approached Tony. “So you like to talk behind my back, Stark? You think you’re funny?” Tony stared at him blankly but shifted back as far as his chair would allow. He tried to force himself to stare into Sam’s narrow eyes but he couldn’t. His eyes flickered around Sam’s head and his fingers scratched at his arms. “See, you can’t even look at me,” Sam smirked.
Tony’s eyes flickered and he tried to hold Sam’s gaze but he couldn't . He just couldn’t . “You talk so much shit, Stark, but you’re just a coward at the end of the day.”
Tony might now have been able to distinguish the emotion on Sam’s face, but he knew the words were meant to hurt. He curled in on himself and started biting his nails.
Sam stared for a second longer before walking away to the stove. The team were silent, watching the exchange.
Natasha rolled her eyes at the whole situation and walked over to Tony with a plate of pancakes. “Here,” she said, holding them out.
Tony grimaced and his hands started to tremble. “I don’t like to be handed things,” he said, slightly pleading.
Natasha rolled her eyes and forced the plate closer. “Take it, Stark.”
Tony closed his eyes over and over, panicking. His fingers snapped and his shoe tapped against the floor in tandem. He took a deep breath and looked at the area to the left of Natasha. “I don’t like...I don’t like to be handed things,” he repeated again robotically.
Natasha huffed, annoyed, and forced the plate into his hands. Tony moved his hands away as if stung and the plate went crashing to the ground. Tony cringed, letting out a shout, and the whole kitchen started laughing at his reaction.
Tony blinked and blinked as the sounds in the kitchen grew louder and louder. The breaking glass seemed to echo on top of the overlapping laughter. Tony forced his hands over his ears and started humming, running towards the elevator. The laughter seemed to follow him as Jarvis brought him to the workshop and encouraged him to calm down.
Jarvis lowered the lights and televisions so that the only sound was light whirring of Tony’s machines. Tony grabbed a gauntlet from a nearby table and brought it into the small ball he was curled into on the floor. His fingers played with the sticking out wires, mentally going over the colors in his head. Red crosses with blue. Blue connects with green. Or does green connect with red? But if green connects with red, what happens with blue? And then what about yello-
“Tony?”
Tony looked up at the sound of his name and was met with a large holographic screen showing his boyfriend. “Brucie,” he said softly.
“What’s going on, Tones?” Bruce said worriedly. “Jarvis called me.”
“Nothings...nothings wrong,” he sighed, being calmed by the sound of Bruce’s voice.
“Do you want me to come home?”
“No, i’m fine, Brucie. I’ll see you when you get back.”
Bruce sighed knowing Tony’s urge to be independent as possible. He knew the genius gets extra stressed when he wasn’t around but Tony rarely asks for help. “Okay, Tones. But don’t be afraid to call me for anything. I love you, baby.”
“Love you too, Brucie,” Tony gave a small smile. Tony released another breath when the screen turned off, feeling slightly better.
When Tony made his way back to the common room, the team were setting up for a movie. They all stopped what they were doing when Tony entered the room. “I’m...sorry,” he said, looking at his shoes and the wall and the door and the couch. “I didn’t mean to upset you guys.”
The room was silent for several agonizing seconds before Clint huffed. “Whatever, Stark.” Tony was a bit confused at the statement, unsure of its meaning, but he approached the group anyway.
A glance at the clock told him they were setting up for a movie, which they always did on weekends. They were 14 minutes early, but Tony decided to stay quiet. But he did frown when they put Jurassic Park into the DVD player. “It was Bruce’s turn to choose. He wanted Beauty and the Beast.”
“Yeah, well Bruce isn’t here, so we are watching this.”
“But,” Tony started, pulling at his jeans. “Next was Beauty and the Beast.” Last time Natasha chose, so next was Bruce’s pick. That was the order. They can’t change the order.
“Just sit down and watch the movie,” Sam rolled his eyes.
“We’ll watch Beauty and the Beast when Bruce gets back,” Steve compromised. But then the order would be even more messed up.
Tony moved to sit in his normal seat, but Sam was sitting in it. The darker man just glared as Tony went to speak. Instead, the genius was forced to take the other seat between Natasha and Clint.
Tony was uncomfortable and his ramrod straight posture showed it. He didn’t want to be touched by the two spies so he squeezed his body thin and sat on the edge of the seat. He didn’t like Jurassic Park because of all the loud sounds, but he didn’t want to mess up the routine of Saturday movie days even further.
“Can you stop that?” Clint growled halfway through the movie.
Tony jumped, confused.
“The snapping, it's distracting,” Natasha emphasized.
“Yeah, there’s no music playing, dude. You’re coo-coo brain is only imagining it,” Sam smirked.
The group laughed and Tony shoved his hands into his shirt in distress. He swirled them around, wrinkling his shirt.
“What is wrong with you today man? You’re like...weirder than normal,” Clint said. “And that’s a record that’s hard to beat.”
Everyone laughed harder.
Tony curled into himself and started rocking. He closed his eyes, his hands started scratching at his arms, and he hummed under his breath. The team stared, confused.
“Okay dude, you won,” Clint laughed.
“Tony?” Natasha said, grabbing the man’s arm. Tony jumped back, shaking. His rocking picked up and his humming grew louder.
“What is wrong with-”
“Tony?!” The group turned just in time to see Bruce run out from the elevator doors.
“Bruce? You’re back early. Guess now you can help figure out what’s wrong with nut job over here,” Clint huffed.
Bruce’s face tinted green as he moved his eyes from the panicking Tony to the team. “He's autistic, you asshole.”
Everyone’s face turned pale. They watched silently as Bruce coached a silent Tony into the elevator and down to the workshop.
“Fuck,” Clint said finally.
“Double fuck. We are horrible people,” Sam said.
“What’s autistic?” Steve asked.