The Plane - Part two
Tony stayed awake the whole flight. It seemed for a while like he's going to nap, but then his mindset had to go and shift, and suddenly they had a very adult, but still very fussy Tony on their hands, who refused to sleep in a carseat.
"We' me ou' Bi'd-bwain!" Tony kicked his feet angrily, and fussed with the carseat buckles. Clint sighed, and turned his pilot seat all the way around to face the toddler.
"No, Tony. I think now would be a great time for you to have a nap."
"No nap!" He snarled, looking offended. "No' baby!" Clint scoffed,
"Really? Because you're acting a lot like a fussy baby." Clint wished that Tony would have more difinitive and seperate headspaces. But, with his lack of sleep, he was drifting quickly back and forth between the two, and he was never fully settled in one or the other. Clint assumed that if he could just get the toddler to settle down for a nap, he'd probably stay steadily in his adult mind for a while, but right now he was somewhere between the two.
"No!" Tony whimpered, "Big!" It wasn't true of course. He knew he was stuck in between headspaces, and it was driving him crazy. It was almost like there was an adult in his brain, complaining about how dastardly this whole situation was, but his body was responding in ways much more befitting of a two-year-old. Oh, and his hands! His glorious hands that could once work on even the most intricate projects after a week of no sleep, couldn't even manage to open a buckle, no matter how much he struggled agaisnt the binds.
"You know how I know you're not big Tony? I know because adult Tony would be able to pop open that buckle in seconds." Tony swore to god that man had some kind of mind reading powers. He was mortifyingly close to tears now, and in one final desperate act, he pulled the pacifier clip off of his shirt, and tried to use the metal edge to pop open the buckle. When he got to close to succeding, Clint walked over, and gently pried the clip out of Tony's hands.
"Hey now," he cooed, "no need for that, Tones. You're really not gonna sleep, huh?" Tony just shook his head, scrubbing the beginnings of tears out of his eyes. "Alright then, why don't you eat one of the nummy snacks Natasha packed, hm?" Tony growled, and threw his head to the side. Why wouldn't Clint stop talking to him like he was a child? Despite the fact that he was technically a child, that man had to right to treat him that way! He growled and yanked at the straps again, though he knew it was futile. "Tony," uh oh, Clint was starting to sound frustrated, "you choose, nap time or snack time. But, if you want to continue to play with your carseat I will not hesitate to put you in mittens." Tony gasped, looking shocked.
"No!" He whined pitifully. "No mi'ens!"
"Fine then," Clint agreed calmly, "make a choice." Tony humphed indignantly before accepting a container of animal crackers Clint offered him with a smirk. "Not so bad, hm?" Tony just stuck out his cookie crumb covered tongue at the archer, his face set in a deep scowl. Clint responded maturely, by sticking his tongue right back at the toddler, and returning to his seat. "Thank you, sweet boy." He teased as he switched places with Natasha, taking over the pilot seat for a while.
With Clint manning the plane, Natasha wandered back to where Tony was sitting, a few minutes after he'd finished his snack. The toddler was too busy squirming in his seat, eyes trained on the sky beyond his window, to notice her settle herself delicately next to him.
"маленькая птица, do you need a change?" He whipped around to face her, obviously not having noticed her before, but the moment he processed her question tears flooded to his eyes, and he began sucking rapidly on his pacifier to soothe himself. She took that as a yes, and with a sympathetic hum, collected the now crying toddler into her arms. "It's alright Anton. Let's get you cleaned up." He squirmed in her hold, shaking his head.
"No' okay!" He wailed, "Sowwy I jus' a dumb baby." The spy winced at both his self-depricating tone, and his high pitched sobs.
"Tony, you are plenty of things..." She trailed off as she thought of all the foul words that could fill that blank, "but dumb is certainely not one of them." She finished firmly, placing the sniffling child down on the cot usually reserved for post-transformation Bruce.
"No." he rubbed his eyes as he muttered softly. "Was big. Shouldn' have acciden' when 'm big." Okay, now she understood why he was so upset.
"Just the effects of the spell, little bird." Tony'd assumed that whatever she'd called him earlier had been along the lines of that pet name, but hearing it in English still made his cheeks turn pink.
"Sowwy you have to hewp me." He said, pointedley looking away from her.
"No apologies needed." She murmured, "We help the people we care about." She scooped him up after she finished changing him, and planted a kiss against his warm forehead. "You wanna go to sleep now? You look sleepy." He pushed his tiny hands into her sternum crankily as she placed him back down in the car seat. "Right. Well, it was worth a shot."
As she turned to leave, she heard a soft little voice from behind her.
"Cawe bou' you too, mama." Tony's pacifier had fallen from his mouth, and he was shoving a fist in to replace it. A smile played on her lips as she walked over and pressed the object back into his waiting mouth.
"I know sweet heart. And, if you really want to help me, you can try to go to sleep for at least a little bit before we get to Clint's house." She waved at the suckling child, and returned to the cockpit, leaving him to consider that.
Tony wailed the entire last two hours of the flight. They'd agreed after a while to let him just cry it out, but when that didn't work and neither spy had any more ideas, Clint just took out his hearing aids with a grin, and left Natasha to deal with Tony. He didn't return the devices to his ears till after they'd began their descent, and Tony's cries had died down a little as he took in the sight of the farmland growing beneath him. When the landed in the field next to Clint's house, Tony was inarguably completely submerged in his toddler headspace.
"Ou' now?" He asked hopefully, sniffling and reaching for Clint who was approaching him. Clint couldn't help but coo at the sight of the sleepy little boy,
"Yeah babe. We're here."
"Cwin' home." Tony nodded knowingly as he peered out the window "Cwin' happy?"
"Super happy. I'd be even happier if we dried away those tears, sweet boy." He finally unclipped the toddler, and hoisted him onto his hip, not missing the way he curled himself in closer against the archer, clinging with one tiny fist to his shirt. "Nervous?" He asked soflty, bounding the boy a little. Tony shook his head, which judging by his body language, was a total lie. He was sucking rapidly on his pacifier, and now both his hands were toying with Clint's shirt.
"Don' pway with othew kids." He muttered soflty after a few seconds of Clint rocking him gently as he repacked the content's of Tony's diaper bag. "Wha' if they don' wike me cause 'm diffewen'?"
Oh. This wasn't a talk that Clint was excpecting to have with Tony, but judging by what he knew of Tony's childhood, he'd probably never talked to anyone about feeling different from other kids, and it'd also been confirmed that he had very little experience with them either.
"Sweetheart, I-" Clint wasn't really sure what to say next. He wasn't exactly home often enough to be entirely comfortable having difficult conversations with kids. "I can guarantee that my kids are going to love you. They really are Tony. They're great, and you're great so... yeah, it's gonna be great. As for other people, I can't make the same guarantee. You are different, Tony. There's no denying that. You're Tony freaking Stark, and you're completely unique and different in your own brilliant way, but... a lot of the time people don't like what's different. I- I assume your concerns are stemming from some past experience?" Tony nodded sheepishly,
"Didn' go to schoow with othe' kids, cause da' say I'm diffewen', an' he say othe' kids won' wike me cause don' undews'and me." He ducked his head down, tucking it neatly into Clint's shirt. "And tha' makes me sad cause I don' wan' be diffewen', wan' fwiends." Clint sighed and settled gingerly on the edge of one of the passenger seats so he could hold Tony closer.
"Well, like I said, a lot of people don't like what's different. But, that's only because they're intimidated by what's different. All you have to remember is why they're intimidated. They're intimidated because your different is genius on a whole other plane above what they're used to. Because, different is bold and eccentric and untameable, but Tony, different is beautiful. Different is super. Besides, if kids are mean to you because you're different, that means you don't want to be friends with them anyways. They're definitely not super. And, it's not impossible to make friends even if you are different. Look at me, for example."
"You no' a genius." Tony poked Clint in the stomach. "You make fwiends supew easy." Clint laughed,
"You're right, I'm not a genius, but it still certainely wasn't easy finding friends when I was a deaf kid with no money to buy aids." Tony's mouth formed a little o.
"Fowgo' bou' tha'." Tony said thoughtfully, reaching up to tug on one of Clint's earlobes.
"Most people do, thanks to these super awesome aids you gave me." Clint grinned and tapped one of the devices. "But, communication wasn't always this easy for me, and a lot of the time I was really scared to be around other kids. So, you know what I did when I felt alone?" Tony shook his head. "I looked for the other people who were different too. Together we learned that our differences made us stronger, and it made all the bullying and the fears a little less important." He smiled, "You know why you're lucky, Tony?"
"Nuh uh." Tony scooted on Clint's lap so he was face to face with him, instead of leaning back against him.
"Because, you already live in a tower full of different people. People from different places with different abilities, just ask Steve about his childhood when he was all scrappy and sick. And Bruce, I mean the dude turns into a monster. But, the ones who overcome and embrace our differences, the outcasts and misfits, we're the super ones! I'm telling you kid, embrace your different, embrace your super, and other kids will love you! My kids are going to love you either way, they'll be so excited to meet Ironman, even if he is puny." Tony who'd previously been smiling, scowled at the cackling archer.
"No' puny!"
"Okay, Tiny Tony, let's get out of this plane now, huh?"
"Don't antagonize the child, Barton." Natasha scolded as she entered the plane from her exterior check. "And yes, let's please get off this plane so I can watch Harry Potter with my niece and nephew." Tony reached out for Natasha, and after scrubbing his face on the soft fabric of her hoodie to remove any remnants of his cry, they exited the plane.
The trio made their way through a small pasture to where a cross looking woman was standing on the front porch of a nearby rancher. Tony assumed that she was Clint's wife, and buried his face shyly in Natasha's hoodie at the displeased look she was giving her husband and his colleague,
"Ma'am." Clint greeted formally with a southern Twang, obviously trying for Comedy, while Natasha gave the woman a smile and a casual,
"Hey, Laura." as though she didn't have an unidentified toddler on her hip.
"Barton," It was apparent when she ignored both of their greetings that neither route was the correct one. "Explain the child."
"I thought you told her ahead of time." Natasha muttered sotta voce.
"I forgot?" Clint smiled sheepishly, only recieving piercing glares from both women, "Right," Clint cleared his throat, obviously stalling, "you know how the kids have always wanted to meet ironman?" He took Tony from Natasha, cradling him against his chest, and nudging him a little encouraging him to give Laura any type of greeting. Tony gave the lady a shy wave as Clint said, "Well, now they can. Surprise?"