Toddlers Can't Work in Labs
Tony's evening went about as well as his morning. For quite a few hours he refused to eat, and when Bruce finally forced him to eat something light, it gave him diarrhea almost instantly. He spent the remainder of the evening sobbing pitifully each time one of his teammates repeated the process of comforting him as his stomach cramped up, and changing him out of a soiled diaper.
By the time it was decided he should go to bed, it was far past his bedtime, and he'd not eaten dinner and barely had a thing to drink. He dozed off on the couch with Natasha keeping watch over him to make sure he didn't fall, as he absolutely refused to be left alone in his crib.
Tony woke up the next morning in Natasha's arms (it seemed she'd never left the couch), feeling ten times better than he had the day before. He also felt much more adult than he had when he went to sleep. He was beginning to think that his mind set quite possibly was not only related to his emotions, but how much sleep he'd had, seeing as his toddler brain seemed to tie emotions in pretty closely with how long it'd been since his last nap. When the spy saw that he was awake, she cooed, and ran her hand through his hair in a way that was both comforting, and extremely annoying now that he was thinking clearly. He pushed his tiny hands against her till she sat him on the couch.
"Head doesn' hur' anymow." he declared happily, as he came to the realization that the pounding headache he'd been sure would never go away had reduced itself to a mild, dull throb in the back of his head.
"I'm glad to hear," she smiled at him, "sometimes you just have to get the bug out of your system to start feeling better." Her words were blunt, and Tony failed to hold back a blush at what she was insinuating.
"Feew gwon up," He desperately scrambled for a change in topic, "can I go down to wab with Bwuce?" Apparently Natasha was immune to puppy dog eyes, because she firmly shook her head,
"No way. There are too many things in those labs that a curious baby could swallow." she booped his nose, hoping maybe he'd forget about the labs, but he clearly wasn't having any of it.
"No' cuwious! No' baby!" Tony was starting to get frustrated, Natasha was barely even listening to him! Instead, she was busying herself screwing the lid onto a sippy cup that Steve had offered her. When had Steve entered the room?
"I know Tones, but your gonna' change head spaces eventually, and it can't happen in the lab." He stuck his bottom lip out, making a last effort at convincing her to let him go, but she wasn't changing her mind no matter how cute he looked.
After a few minutes of Tony pouting while a kid's show played on the tv, Bruce emerged from the elevator, and sat down next to Tony.
"Hey babe, feeling any better? That sippy cup's not just for show, ya know?" The physicist leaned over and planted a kiss on his huffing lab partners head.
"No' babe." Tony shoved the untouched cup off the couch, in a motion even he could admit was immature. "You wook tiwed" He muttered as Bruce knelt in front of him to grab the cup. He reached out, and splayed his fingers across the tired man's cheeks, pointers pulling on the large bags under his eyes. Bruce hummed, and climbed back onto the couch, handing Tony the cup, and giving him a look that clearly said he expected him to drink it. Tony decided to humour Bruce, and took a few gulps of the water before continuing to speak. "You take nap now, an' I go wo'k in wab, okay?" he declared in an important tone that eerily reminded Bruce of the times he'd seen the toddler's adult counterpart make public announcements. Despite his exhaustion, the scientist barked a laugh, and collected Tony up onto his lap.
"A lab is not a safe place for a toddler, Tony. Especially an unattended toddler." Tony let out a long-suffering groan, and leaned back against Bruce in dismay. "But," He perked up a little bit, "if you're feeling up to it, I can go grab my Starkpad from the lab, and you can help me with some equations." Bruce tried not to coo at the toddler bouncing happily in his lap, knowing how much it would bother him. Adorable he thought, handing the child over to Natasha. "I'll be right back." Tony waved at him, eyes following him as he left full of desperation to accompany him down to the lab.
Bruce could tell that Tony was getting restless, and also that he was getting over his bug. It was good that Tony was feeling better, of course it was. But, it also meant they were about to have a very restless, energetic toddler on their hands once more, who'd just spent the last few days cooped up in a room. He was going to want non-stop entertainment, whether that meant playing outside, or solving complex math equations, and with all the time he'd spent working recently, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to handle the little bundle of energy. He'd have to coerce Clint into being the kid's main supervisor, that was for sure. But, for now he was happy to sit and do some science with his partner again.
When Bruce returned to the communal floor, tablet in hand, Tony was sitting on Clint's lap eating breakfast.
"Little punk refused to sit in his highchair." the archer grumbled when Bruce entered the kitchen. Natasha snorted from where she was perched on the counter,
"Yeah, and you're a pushover when it comes to the kid. Anton has you in the palm of his hand." She smirked, but their was a loving touch in her voice when she looked at the little boy. Clearly, Clint wasn't the only Avenger who was enamoured with their miniaturized friend.
"No mow food." Tony shook his head as Clint tried to give him another spoonful of cereal, "no' hungwy. Wan' go do science!" He made to leap off of the archer's lap, but Clint reached out and looped an arm around his torso.
"Woah, not so fast short stack!" He pulled the grumbling toddler back up from where he was suspended half-way to the ground, not releasing his hold on him once he was secure in his lap. "First of all, you know not to jump from high places,"
"Says you bi'd-bwain." grumbled Tony.
"Second of all," Clint pressed on, ignoring Natasha's snickering, "you don't get to go do science until you've eaten at least half your bowl of breakfast. Those are the rules."
"Since when?" Tony challenged.
"Since now. I'm the adult, so I get to make new rules whenever I want." He offered Tony another spoon loaded with cereal, but Tony just gave the food a nasty look, as though it'd personally offended him. It was obvious that Tony wasn't going to give in any time soon, but Bruce had an idea.
"Hey Tones, I have all your projects loaded onto this tablet, so which one do you want to work on first?" The toddler began responding eagerly, describing one of his favourite projects, and let out a garbled squawk when the spoon was shoved into his mouth.
"Mean!" He hissed after he'd chewed and swallowed.
"I know, we're sooo mean," Clint chuckled, "but it wasn't that bad was it? Come on Tony, I know this is your favourite cereal, just eat some more. It's really yummy and you know it." Tony glared at Clint's childish choice of words, and kept his lips glued, not eager to repeat the experience of being force fed while speaking. "Just two more bites." The archer was trying desperately to make Tony see reason, "Two more bites, and I won't make you eat again till lunch." Tony squirmed furiously, throwing his head from side to side when Clint scooped up some more of the now mushy cereal.
"The quicker you eat it, the quicker you can come with me." Bruce turned on the starkpad, opening the file of the project he knew Tony wanted to work on, "I'm getting tired of waiting Tony," he stated dramatically, "and I'd hate to have to finish designing Veronica without you." Tony stilled in Clint's lap, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline,
"You wouldn'! Vewonica is my baby!"
"Oh, I just might, if you don't hurry up and eat your breakfast." Tony begrudgingly opened his mouth, shooting Bruce an offended look at the same time that Clint gave him an extremely grateful one. It ended up taking only a few more minutes for Tony to finish the whole bowl of food, once he stopped grumbling about it, and he bounced eagerly as the scientist wiped his face off with a cloth, and carried him back into the living room. On the couch, Tony shifted so he was on his knees, and reached his hands up in excitement as Bruce swiped the screen of the tablet, and the schematics and diagrams on it were replicated in holograms that hovered in the air, encircling the toddler.
"Wigh' big gween," Tony reached out, and drew one of the diagrams closer to him, "we's ge' to wo'k!" Bruce would've had a hard time understanding his partner, if it wasn't the same phrase that he said every time they worked together.
"Let's get to it, bud." Bruce responded, trying to hide how truly happy he was to not be working alone in his lab again. He'd have to take advantage of this time, because he knew it was inevitable that adult Tony would be leaving him again soon. He hated to admit that the thought made him more than a little bit sad.
The pair fell into their rhythm pretty quickly, Bruce researching different materials for the containment system, while Tony edited his designs for Veronica's deploitation system. At times it was a little bit difficult, Tony's unsteady toddler hands making it hard for him to jot down equations, or draw designs, but Bruce was happy to lend a helping hand. However, after an hour or so, Bruce knew that playtime was coming to an end when he saw Tony's face screwing up in frustration.
"What's wrong Tony?" The toddler just shook his head,
"No." He pressed his fists against his eyes like he was trying to force away tears.
"No?" Bruce wanted to help, the kid was obviously upset about something, but he was gonna need more details than that.
"No! Can' do i'!" Tony was fully and truly crying now, "Don' know how!" Tony jabbed a tiny finger at an equation hovering in front of him. Bruce hummed sympathetically, he could see at a glance where Tony had put a decimal point in the wrong place, throwing his answer straight outta whack. He was planning on pointing this out, but then he thought that maybe if Tony was crying about an equation, he was slipping into a headspace a little bit too young to do any more work. He felt a sudden pang of longing for adult Tony, who could work on a single equation for hours on end without getting frustrated, but swallowed it down.
"That's alright Tony. You did a lot of really good work today, but I think it's time for a nap now." He scooped the toddler up into his arms, getting rid of the holograms with a quick wave. Tony sobbed angrily into the man's shirt, pounding his little fists against his chest. It didn't hurt or anything, so Bruce didn't complain, allowing the toddler to cry himself into exhaustion in his arms.
"Nooooo!" he wailed pitifully, "don' wanna nap! No' done ye'!"
"Mhm," Bruce responded calmly, "all done. All done with work for today." He bounced Tony a little, "I won't work on Veronica without you Tony, she's your project." That seemed to somewhat pacify the toddler. The main reason he hated naps was because he was afraid of missing out on anything while he was asleep. "But, you need to have a nap. You made that big brain of yours tired!" He planted a kiss on Tony's forehead, hiding a smile when the child reached one hand up and rubbed his head, as though considering the statement.
"Bwain tiwed?" He couldn't help but chuckle at that,
"Yup, your poor brain is sleepy, and if you want it to work better so you can do math again, you have to have a nap." Tony's sobs slowed until they were just sniffles,
"Nap make me do good math?"
"Yes, I promise." Bruce had learned pretty quickly that toddler Tony loved promises, especially pinky promises. He wasn't quite sure why. Was it a fixation all children had, or was it unique to Tony? He didn't care, because he was too busy focusing on the way Tony was giggling through his tears as he wrapped his tiny pinky around Bruce's.
"I can take him down to my floor, doc." Bruce hadn't even noticed Clint enter the room at the sound of Tony's fit.
"Thanks." He handed off the sleepy toddler, who didn't complain, but just curled up in the archer's arms.
"What's wrong bubby?" Clint began rocking the toddler,
"Can' do math." he whimpered sadly, "Head all fuzzy, bu' Bwuce said ge' be'er if I sweep." Clint hummed, and pretended to understand Tony's laments.
"I told him if he has a nap, he'll be able to do math better." Bruce translated helpfully, not that it was necessary, because the toddler was out like a light. Clint smiled fondly, planting a kiss on Tony's cheek before he spoke to Bruce,
"You're good with him. Nat told me he asked for you first thing this morning." Bruce tried to ignore the swell of pride in his chest.
"That jealousy I hear in your voice?" Clint scoffed indignantly,
"Me? Jealous?" His face softened into something more sincere, "I was gonna' if you're good to take responsibility for him for the next few days, seeing as you're his favourite. But, judging by the fact you're about to fall asleep on your feet after one hour with him, I'm not sure if it'd be the best idea." Bruce tried to deny his obvious exhaustion, but the archer continued to speak, "Oh well, I guess I'll just have to take the little guy with me." He didn't look all that upset.
"Wait, where are you going?" Clint's face brightened,
"Nat and I are going to visit my family for the weekend. I wanted to bring Tony, but Natasha said it isn't fair to spring another kid on Laura." Clint wrinkled his nose in a way that told Bruce he and Nat had argued about this topic, "But," his eyes lit up mischievously, "If I tell Nat that the poor little guy has no where else to go-"
"That's not true though. I really don't mind taking care-"
"Come on, Bruce! I think that Lila will really like him, even if she's a little bit older. Do me a solid, man! All you have to do is tell Natasha that you don't want to be responsible for the kid." Truthfully, Bruce wasn't interested in being responsible for the kid. Of course he'd have Steve in the tower with him, but still, if Tony was always around him, it increased the chances of him injuring him in a hulk out. There were few things these days that managed to draw the hulk out these days, but he still had his reservations about being alone for too long with Tony.
"Fine, but telling Nat you have to take Tony because I don't want him is completely unbelievable. Tell her I'm scared of a hulk out." Clint looked sceptical,
"How is that more believable? You've never hulked out at the tower."
"Yes, but I'm also kind of known for over analyzing, and worrying about other people's safety around the hulk."
There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence before Clint spoke up again,
"Fair point. Imma' take the brat to my floor."
"Or," Bruce hesitated, looking sheepish, "I could just hold him here. I know we're trying to get him used to the crib, but-"
"It's fine, Doc." The archer handed over the child with a smile, "knock yourself out. I should probably go pack some clothes anyways." Tony made a funny little snuffling noise, but didn't wake up as he was transferred into Bruce's arms. He settled on the couch, trying to be as still and quiet as possible, for fear of waking the sleeping child, but he couldn't help a laugh when he heard Natasha's voice from the kitchen,
"Who do you think I am? Of course I heard you scheming against me in the next room over Clint, there's no door between the two rooms." and a moment later, "Fine, we can take Anton with us, but you get to explain to Laura when we show up with a child. Good luck." She stormed out of the kitchen, pausing for a moment to shoot Bruce a hieroglyphic look,
"When are you going to learn to trust yourself?" She scolded. What was that even in reference to? Taking care of a child? The hulk? Damn spies and all their cryptic messages!
Tony was woken by the sound of voices floating around him.
"JARVIS, take a photo of this please?"
"Certainly, sir."
"Bruce won't be happy if you take a photo of him."
"Oh, please. What's he gonna do, hul-"
"Guys, inside voices! You woke up Tony!"
Tony sat up, and blinked, eyes adjusting to the light. After a few seconds, the blurry figures surrounding him turned into his teammates, aside from Bruce, who was currently asleep underneath him.
"Cap, did you jus' say inside voices?" Steve scoffed at Tony, who was snickering from his place snug in Bruce's arms.
"Well, I'm sorry for trying to help you. Next time you're sleeping I'll just let them shout and wake you up." He freed Tony from the scientists hold, setting him on the ground when he squirmed in his arms. The toddler instantly booked it towards the elevator, shouting as he went,
"JAWVIS! Take me to the wab pwease!" To be fair, Steve probably should've excepted Tony to want to go to the lab the moment he was feeling adult again. Natasha was the first person to jump into action, snatching up the toddler as he waddle-ran past.
"Where do you think you're going mister?" Tony huffed, and looked at her like she was the dumbest person to exist,
"The wab! I'm gwon up Na'! An' I wanna go!" He had a pout on his face that was probably meant to be intimidating, but was just plain cute.
"No," Clint took the toddler from Natasha, "you're gonna come up to my floor and get out of those pyjamas, and then we're going on the jet." Tony furrowed his brows,
"The je'? Why? I can' exac'wy join a figh' wike this." Clint chuckled, and bounced the toddler a little, resulting in him receiving a tiny foot to the chest.
"Oof! We don't kick Tony!" He scolded, holding the child out at arms length, "You little brat." He didn't really sound to angry, after the incident last time Clint had gotten mad at Tony, his scoldings had become very light and lenient. He sincerely didn't ever want to see a kid look that scared, ever again. "There aren't any battles. Nat and I are going to visit my family, and Bruce is really busy right now with all his work, so you're going to come with us." He waited for a moment, gauging Tony's response, and he was surprised (but relieved) to see his face light up with childish glee at the prospect of leaving the tower. He smiled back at the grinning kid, "You excited?"
"Mhm, wanna go on pwane!" Clint chuckled a little more, and gave his other teammates a wave as he began making his way up to his floor, Tony in his arms.
***Tony was having a hard time pinpointing his exact mental age range, and it was getting on his nerves. He was sitting on Clint's bed, fighting the urge to bounce up and down on the mattress as he watched Clint pack. Part of him wanted to run around from all the excitement he was feeling, and the other part of him wanted sit calmly on the bed and prove to Clint that he could be adult for more than five freaking minutes at a time. The two contrasting instincts were battling inside his head, and honestly, it was making everything happening outside his mind kind of hazy. After a few minutes, Clint approached the bed with changing supplies in hand, and in a split second, Tony felt his younger side win over.
"NO!" He screeched, "No mow diapews! No mow baby!" Clint sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. If he'd had this conversation once with Tony in in the past four days, he'd had it a hundred times.
"Sweet boy, I know you don't want to be a baby anymore. But, it's only for a month. You just have to be patient, and you'll make it through this, okay? In the meantime, the diapers are unfortunately, not an option." Tony's face screwed up in frustration, and Clint knew there was about to be a serious meltdown. Picking up Tony could be hit or miss, because, depending on how old his brain was, he'd either love or hate it. Unsure what else to do, Clint took the risk, scooping Tony into his arms, and immediately regretted it when the child started screaming bloody murder, and swinging his limbs around frantically. "Tony!" He scolded, beginning to lose his patience, "I told you, we do not hit! How would you like it if I hit you, hm?" Tony froze, eyes expanding in fear, till they took up most of his face.
It took Clint a few seconds to realize his mistake. Asking his kids how they'd like it if he'd repeated their actions was always a go to. Some parenting book he'd read said it was a good way to teach empathy. But, bringing up hitting to a toddler who'd suffered abuse? Yeah, not a good idea.
"Gon' hi' me?" Tony whispered, tears streaming down his face. Without thinking, Clint reached out to brush away the drops, but flinched when Tony let out a shriek, "Sowwy! I sowwy Cwin'! Pwease no hi'!" Clint released the toddler from his hold, heart wrenching in pity at the sight of the tiny child shying away from him and curling in on himself against the headboard of the bed.
"Tony, I'd never ever hit you. I promise." He made no move towards the toddler, but knelt next to the bed, so his solemn face matched height with Tony's, "You're safe with me." Tony met his eyes, staring at him for a moment, like he was trying to figure out whether the spy was being honest or not. After a few excruciating moments of Clint waiting patiently as Tony's sobs ebbed to sniffles, the man released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when Tony reached out one tiny pinky to him, and whispered,
"Haf'ta' pinky pwomise." Despite himself he chuckled a little at the request.
"I absolutely pinky promise, sweetheart." The toddler uncurled a little, wrinkling his nose at the nickname. His breath hitched once more when he saw the changing pad laid out next to him on the bed,
"Pinky pwomise no diapew?" Clint sighed,
"That, I can't pinky promise. But," Clint got an idea, "if you're a really good boy for me while I change you, you can hold this super cool stuffy I have!" He reached past Tony for one of the stuffed Avengers that'd made its way into his room at some point, not missing the way Tony flinched when his arm got to close. He held out the miniature Hawkeye in offering. Tony sniffled a few more times, rubbed his snotty nose (gross), and reached out to accept the toy.
"You?" He asked, the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips.
"Yeah, it's me." He smirked as Tony started sucking mindlessly on the arrow the toy was holding. The other hand of the toy was folded into a sign.
"You wanna know what the doll is saying?" He replicated the sign. Tony nodded, pulling the stuffy out of his mouth to get a better look at its fingers. "That sign means I love you." The toddler studied Clint's hand for a few more minutes, before shyly attempting to copy the sign. It took some time, and the utmost concentration for Tony to lift his pinky finger while keeping his ring finger curled, but eventually he had it, and with a slightly larger smile on his face, he announced,
"Tony woves Cwin'." in a wobbly voice that made Clint's heart melt inside his chest. He used the sign for his name, paused to translate, then crossed his hands across his chest, fingers curled in fists, and pointed to Tony.
"Clint loves Tony." The toddler giggled, scooting over to the edge of the bed, and signing,
"I want hug, please" Clint didn't have to be asked twice to wrap the toddler in a gentle hug, running his finger through the little boy's curly hair before he released him, and reached over for the changing pad.
"Want, want, want," Clint'd noticed that even when Tony was an adult he'd had a habit of repeating signs when he got excited and his brain became faster than his hands.
"What you want, Tony?" Tony frantically beat his hands together in a garbled version of the sign for more, before wrapping his arms around himself in the sign for hug.
"Please?" Clint smiled sympathetically, but shook his head.
"I'll give you lots more hugs after you get changed, stinky boy!" Tony growled, but didn't look like he was going to have another meltdown any time soon. Clint figured he'd tuckered himself out with that last one. He got Tony settled on the changing mat, and stripped him of his onesie, but the moment he actually started changing the child, he began whining crankily. "Look at the airplane, bud!" It was a desperate attempt to distract Tony from the diaper change, but it, shockingly, worked. The toddler giggled, as Clint bounced his hand in the sign for plane, and made a vrooming noise. Finally, Tony stilled, albeit he was waving his hand in the air, folded into the sign for flying.
"Gon' go on ai'pwane, an' gon' mee' Cwin' famiwy." He informed the man, who widened his eyes in surprise, as though it was the first he was hearing of the trip.
"So exciting!" Clint exclaimed as he taped the diaper up, glad to have a happy baby on his hands once more.
"Mhm," Tony agreed, "and Cwin' my favouwi' 'vengew..." Tony frowned thoughtfully, "favouwi', bu' jus' fow today." Clint laughed,
"I'm honoured that I get to be your favourite Avenger for a whole day!" the toddler giggled, but showed no signs of comprehending what Clint was saying, poor kid was really out of it. He'd dropped to his kid brain faster and more drastically than Clint'd ever seen when he thought that he was going to be hit. The thought made him frown, but he covered it up quickly, distracting himself with tugging the elastic waistband of tiny pants over Tony's diaper, and helping him stand up. "Don't let Nat hear that she's not your favourite Avenger." Tony, serious little boy that he was, nodded thoughtfully, as though storing that in his brain for later. Clint couldn't help but wonder how much knowledge Tony had in that little brain of his. "Don't let Bruce know either," he added as an after thought, "or he won't let you work on Veronica any more... what ever Veronica is."
"Vewonica's a space satewwite with a 'mergency depwoymen' sys'em inside." Tony mumbled around the pacifier Clint had stuck in his mouth during the change. Okay, so apparently he had more in his brain that Clint had initially thought. For a brief moment, Clint worried about how Tony was going to get along with his kids, but they'd just have to wait and see.