Chapter 7
Natasha watched Bruce walk onto the communal floor with a frown on his face, flipping through results on the StarkPad in his hand, and she couldn't help but call out to him.
"Everything okay?"
"The results don't make any sense." Bruce said, and Natasha frowned at him.
"What results?"
"Stiles' blood results." And that had Natasha's brows winging up.
"Why not?"
"The tests say he should be in his mid-late 20s."
"Have you told Clint yet?" Bruce shook his head.
"I didn't want to scare Stiles. We don't know what's happened to him - and if the data is true he's lost over a dozen years of his life. We don't know what giving him that information could trigger." Natasha couldn't argue with that and she sighed.
"It's your call, Bruce."
"The others need to know, but I think we should hold off telling Stiles until we know more."
"How will we get that information?"
"I'm running Stiles' DNA through all the databases Tony has access too, and it's a pretty extensive list. If he's on one of those lists, young or old, we'll find it."
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"Do we have any idea how they did this to him?" Natasha shook her head, reaching out to place a calming hand on Clint's knee.
"Bruce is working on it." Clint rubbed his hands over his face. This was so much pressure.
"And he doesn't want us to say anything to him?"
"He isn't sure what telling him could trigger. He's afraid it could unlock more memories." She didn't have to specify for Clint to know we was referring to Stiles' panic attack with Tony and he huffed out a breath, thinking of the 5 year old currently downstairs in the gym Tony had made for them with Bucky and Steve.
"So he's just going to keep running tests?" She nodded.
"I thought I might call Charles." Clint just cast Natasha a sidelong glance.
"You sure that's a good idea? If telling him could trigger something don't you think having Prof. X digging around in his head could be worse?"
"Charles knows what he's doing." Was Natasha's response, but Clint just stared at her.
"Do you trust him with Stiles?" The question was a loaded one - and Natasha just stared back. They knew there was the possibility that the magic the assholes holding Stiles had been looking for was actually a mutation in which case Charles would want to bring him into his school. Finally, Natasha shrugged.
"He knows better than to try and steal from us." That earned her a tight smile.
"How do we ask him?" Clint asked then, and he didn't have to specify that he meant Stiles, Natasha knew.
"We tell him as much of the truth as we can. Charles might be able to see something in his memories that Stiles can't properly remember. Something to help us find out what happened to him." Clint nodded, standing. Then he tossed a glance at Natasha over his shoulder.
"It creeps me out that you call him Charles." That earned him a smirk and then Natasha was off, probably to contact the professor. Clint made his way to the stairs. He needed to think about this before he introduced the idea to Stiles.
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"Do we trust him?" Was Tony's first question, and Clint shrugged. He wasn't going to lie.
"It was Natasha's idea."
"Do we trust him?" It was Barnes that repeated the question, and Clint wondered how the guy managed to still look threatening with a 5 year old perched on his shoulders.
"I've met Charles Xavier. He's a good man." Steve said then, but Bucky just cast him a look that informed the super soldier that that wasn't actually the answer to the question.
"I want to meet him." Stiles said then, and Clint just nodded, he'd been expecting that.
"Nat's already talking to him. As long as you're okay with it, she said he wanted to meet you tonight."
"Okay. Can we get ice cream after?" Clint huffed out a laugh.
"Yeah, sure we can, kid."
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“Mr. Stilinski. It's a pleasure to meet you. Natasha speaks highly of you.” Stiles regarded the man very carefully. They'd told him before the man had arrived that he specialized in being able to see into peoples thoughts, and that made Stiles wary. The man was smiling at him, and it was a kind smile, but something told him that this man could be very dangerous too. He could tell the man had heard the thoughts because he felt the flicker of surprise, watched the slightest frown enter the man's blue eyes. “I have no intention of hurting you, Mr. Stilinski.”
"How did you know my name was Stilinski? I haven't told anyone."
"You repeat your own name quite frequently in your mind. May I ask why that is?"
"I don't want to forget."
"Why do you think you'd forget?" Stiles shrugged. But the older man didn't let it go. "If you're afraid, you should tell someone. There is no shame in fear, and the people who care for you can only help you with fears you share with them."
"I don't know you." Stiles countered, and that earned him a smile.
"No, you don't. Would you like to?" Again Stiles shrugged.
"Why did they want you to meet me?"
"Because they're worried. They want to find out what's happened to you and think I may be able to see things even you cannot."
"If I can't remember them maybe I shouldn't." Now, the man didn't answer out loud, but in his mind.
“That is a possibility, and I will not look if you do not wish it, but are you not curious about all the things you forget? You can feel the memories at the edge of your thoughts, just out of reach.”
Stiles' mind shoved the professor out before he even realized what was happening and Stiles was off the couch and moving, bolting from the room. Clint swore and tore after him, and Bucky turned on the professor, eyes dark, but Natasha stepped in the way, putting a hand up for patience.
"What happened?" She asked, but the professor was staring after Stiles.
"My words - they triggered something in his mind. A protective measure."
"What did you say?"
"It wasn't what I was explaining - it was the fact that I was there. In his thoughts. It appears this is not the first time someone else had spoken directly into Mr. Stilinski's mind, and the last time it was obviously quite hostile."
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A question rattled around Stiles' mind, and it wasn't even in the professors voice. Let me in. They were the same words Steve had said but it wasn't Steve's voice either. Stiles shuddered, remembering being scared - more scared than he'd ever been before - remembered feeling trapped, alone - unlike anything he'd felt when he'd been kept prisoner.
“Stiles, I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you, nor did I mean to force you to remember something I'm sure you would rather have left forgotten. Let me help you.”
The professors voice said in his thoughts, and Stiles put his hands over his ears.
"You're in my head." Stiles argued, trying to squeeze himself smaller, tucked into the corner in Clint's room between the wall and the bed.
“No, I'm speaking into your mind - I am not within it. I will never do so without your permission.” The thoughts were soothing, but Stiles couldn't help the tears that slid down his cheeks.
"I'm scared."
“I understand. Will you show me why?” Stiles pushed the feelings of terror he'd felt at the professor's presence towards the professor's voice. There was a moment of silence and Stiles stopped covering his ears, wrapping his arms around his knees instead, resting his chin there.
“This proves what we suspected. There are memories that you cannot remember. Can you think of any reason as to why?” Stiles nodded, he had an idea. After all, he was very clever and he knew he could speak better than he could before he'd been taken and he knew he had forgotten things - important things. And he'd seen the date on the news, it was in the future.
"I think I was older and they made me little again."
“Why do you think they did that?”
"Because they think I have magic, and maybe a little me is more likely to say so than big me." He sniffles. "Big me is probably much braver than me."
“You're plenty brave, Stiles. Perhaps you can return, once Clint finds you. Your friend Mr. Barnes is very upset with me that you were upset.”
"I love them." Stiles admitted. "They're my new family and I love them."
“I can assure you, Stiles, the feeling is quite mutual.”
"Stiles?" Stiles looked up at the sound of Clint's voice and the archer came into view. He looked relieved and put a hand to his ear. "Found him guys." Then he sat on the bed beside where Stiles was hiding.
"You okay, kid?" Stiles considered the question for a moment - was he okay? Finally he decided on nodding. He was okay, he thought.
"I know I'm supposed to be older. And that scary things happened to me then. Scarier than now. Scarier than where you found me." He looked up at Clint with big lost eyes. "I don't want to be scared like that."
"Come 'ere." Stiles moved immediately, standing so Clint could pull him in, and he curled up in the archer's lap, feeling safe there. "I won't make you remember anything you don't want to." Clint assured, and Stiles nodded, obviously comforted, but the grip he'd taken on Clint's shirt didn't loosen.
"I think Bucky is scaring the professor. He asked me to go back cause Bucky was worried."
"Probably not a bad idea." Clint agreed. Rather than try and put Stiles down, Clint just shifted him a bit so he could stand, the kid wrapping around him like an octopus, head resting on his shoulder.
"Is the professor looking for magic too?" Stiles asked, and Clint shook his head.
"Nah. He's just helping us figure out how you ended up with those people. If he does or says something you don't like we'll make him leave, don't worry, Stiles. We don't care if you have magic or not." Stiles just curled into him more.
"K."
They returned to the common room to find Bucky and the professor staring at each other, Natasha watching the former carefully. All eyes turned to Clint and Stiles when they entered the room and Stiles reached for Bucky. The assassin accepted the child into his arms but Stiles was careful to whisper very quietly so the others didn't hear him then.
"Thank you." He said softly, and Bucky leaned in so their heads touched. Stiles understood he was asking for what. "He scared me, and you scared him. Fairs fair." The words startled the assassin but he flashed a grin and a wink. Stiles knew it meant anytime. He grinned back and then settled to lean back into the metal arm so he could regard the professor shrewdly.
"Can people stop you from looking in their thoughts?" Stiles asked, and the professor shook his head.
"Not often."
"Do you see things even when you don't want to?"
"Not anymore." The professor said, and Stiles nodded, looking at Bucky. The man returned his gaze, asking his question with the tightening around his eyes. Do you want to remember? Stiles shook his head, because he didn't, not really, but everyone wanted to know what had happened to him and he could admit to being a little bit curious.
"If you look at my memories, do I have to remember them?"
"Not if you don't want to."
"Okay. I don't want to."
"Very well." The professor moved his wheelchair closer and Bucky crouched obligingly, allowing the professor to reach out to touch his fingertips to Stiles' temple.
Clint watched it all happen is silence, neither the professor or the boy moving. It was the professor who moved back first and there was no missing the alarm in his features. He looked at Natasha and the look had Natasha frowning. That's when Stiles blinked his eyes open.
"Did you see anything?"
"I did." The professor admitted, but the tone had Stiles frowning.
"Was it bad?"
"Unexpected." The professor deflected, and Stiles frowned. Bucky stood then, bringing Stiles with him, but the boy was still frowning.
"I don't understand."
"I'm not quite sure I do either." The professor admitted with another glance at Natasha, and at the look Natasha turned to Clint.
"I believe you promised Stiles ice cream."
"Are you not coming?"
"I'll catch up." She looked at Clint then and the archer huffed out a breath.
"Ice cream it is. Come on Barnes."