francis barton / hawkeye (sonofahawk) wrote in valloic, @ 2023-05-29 09:46:00 |
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WHO: Francis, James, Tony, Pepper, Natasha, Kate, Steve.
WHERE: Stark Tower, then Avengers Mansion.
WHEN: Moments over the course of a day during the age plot.
WHAT: James is smol.
RATING: Low.
STATUS: log; COMPLETE.
"Sit." Looking exceptionally put out, the dog with the four eyes – four! – did exactly that after James hissed the word near-silently. Now that the dog was seated next to the smaller dog with STARK spelled out on his collar, who had listened the first time James had tentatively whispered sit and hoped for the best, James continued with his escape from the apartment. He still didn't know exactly what was going on, but time travel seemed to make the most sense, and the device he had found had already made it clear that Tony had to be here. Maybe the dog collar was a clue. But, just in case this was something more sinister than time travel, James was going to get out of here and find some answers. Giving the dogs one more look, he eased his body around the door he had just cracked, squeezing through the space to keep from having to open the door wider. On the outside, he paused, shushed the dogs in a whisper just in case that would work too, and slowly, very slowly, closed the door. It was a nearly soundless escape, minus the dogs, and James took a second to breathe before turning around to determine where to go next. Only to find a man in the hallway with him. He wasn't parent-aged, but still definitely an adult. James stilled bodily, but his eyes moved, his gaze slicing to one side and then the other to determine an escape plan. Francis had just finished locking his front door when the one next to him slowly cracked open. He turned, fully expecting to see his best friend, as they’d made plans to head out together that morning. While he did see James standing there, he wasn’t anything like what he’d expected. These days James was built like Steve, but the little boy who slowly crept out of the apartment looked far more like his mother. More slight and nimble, with that trademark red hair. It was an emotional gut punch seeing him so young, but Francis reacted quickly. He slipped around behind James so he would be standing there by the time the boy finished the process of easing the door closed. There was the temptation to bend down so they were more on the same level, but he knew James, and even at this age, he’d be trying to make a run for it. Francis needed to be fast until he could convince him who he was. “Please don’t bolt. I know you’re thinking about it. I’m not going to hurt you, it’s me- Francis.” He silently pleaded with the Powers that Be that James still remembered him at this age. Francis. James absolutely still remembered Francis, even though James was now older than Francis would ever be in his memories. "You can't be." James' chin trembled, which made his bottom lip twitch. "You're a grown up." Time travel could have explained it if Torunn or Azari or Pym was standing there as an adult, but it couldn't work that way for Francis. He would never be an adult. He was gone, just like his parents and aunts and uncles and the Avengers and so many, many others. The wall of names held so many, many names, and Francis Barton was one of them. James had known that for a while now. Any relief he felt at knowing James remembered him was quickly replaced by an ache in his chest at those words. Francis’ expression softened as he went on. “I didn’t die during the battle. Tony didn’t know it at the time, but me and my mom and dad all got out. We were in hiding, and we didn’t know you all got out either. We finally found each other again years later.” James listened silently, a flush creeping across his skin as he struggled, but the chin and the lip were joined by tears welling up in wide eyes. Francis and Uncle Clint and Aunt Bobbi had survived? "Prove it." James' voice was small and unsteady as the tears tracked down his cheeks. His dad would probably have taken a man at his word, James thought, but his mom was a spy. She'd have asked questions. Good questions. James was at a loss for a good question that sounded like an adult was asking it, so he went for something he could at least verify with his own memory. "You had dinosaurs all over your room." It was a test, the first thing that came to James. There weren't any dinosaurs painted on the walls in the Mansion that James remembered, but he did remember space. He remembered and he really, really wanted this man to get it right. It was easy to see just how much James fiercely wanted to believe him, even if his instincts told him not to trust it. It gave Francis enough assurance that he felt he could bend his knees enough so that he and James were now eye to eye. “Trying to trick me, huh?” He gave James a crooked half-smile. “It’s a good tactic. I never had dinosaurs in my room. My room had space decorations. And I took my astronaut teddy bear everywhere. I’ve even got him here with me.” "And there were stars, stars on the ceiling and stars on the walls, and they glowed." James only just managed to get all of that out before he was crying openly, but in direct counter to the tears and the trembling of his chest was the smile that spread across his face. It twitched into life hesitantly, but it was quick to spread until James' cheeks hurt. This was Francis. James had time traveled and this was Francis. There was a moment of conflict, as if James was still tied down by one last string of caution, and then the string snapped and James launched himself at Francis. He was small and slight, but he was strong, and it was used as he wrapped first his arms around Francis' neck and then his legs around Francis' torso, and clung. Though it was muffled, the next thing James said, it could still be heard decently well. "I missed you, I missed you a lot!" Francis would deny it later, but a few tears filled his own eyes and slipped down his cheeks as his miniature best friend hurtled himself into his arms. He laughed softly and quickly wrapped his arms around James so he wasn’t clinging solely under his own power. He rose back up to his full height, James still firmly in his arms. So much of their younger years were lost to the memory fog of life and trauma, even with their enhanced minds. When James and Francis had met one another again, neither had remembered the other. To see this reaction from James, to know how much he had been missed, it was deeply touching, and Francis hugged him tightly. “I missed you too, buddy. A lot.” James didn't actively cry for long, nor did it ever become sobs, because his little body could only contain so much emotion at once and the sadness and the shock were quickly being eclipsed by the joy and the relief. Back in James' time, Francis was out there somewhere, and maybe that was why he was here in the future, to learn things like this and go back to tell Tony. Then it could be more than just them in hiding. Changing the future wasn't bad if it was for good reasons, right? However. James had questions. So many questions. The first of which was– "Francis…" James' voice was still quiet, and still said partially into Francis' shoulder, but it had a more conspiratorial edge to the quietness now. "There's a dog with four eyes. Why are there four-eyed dogs in the future?" Francis bit the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter that almost escaped. He didn’t want James to think he was laughing at him. “His name is Vox. This place we’re in, it’s not just the future. It’s special here, and people and animals from all over the universe can show up. Vox turned up here, just like we did. He was a puppy and all alone and you rescued him.” James lifted his head to look at Francis, but his grip remained at not-releasing-Francis-whether-he-holds-o "Me?" He canted his head, like a puzzled puppy, and then understanding dawned with more than a bit of awe. "Future me? I'm here right now? And Tony's here, I know it. Is he from the future?" James' eyes widened. "Do you have a past you?" Francis did his level best to turn and meet James’ gaze despite the chokehold around his neck. “Future you is here most days. He and Future Torunn live in the apartment you woke up in, and I,” He turned slightly so he could gesture to his own front door, “Live right next door, so we can hang out together every day. Future You is on a mission right now, but you can meet past me. He lives with Tony and Pepper. We can go see them right now, if you want. The Mansion is here and all fixed up like it’s supposed to be.” James' jaw dropped open as though Francis had announced down was up and left was right. "Aunt Pepper?" He had thought Francis and Uncle Clint and Aunt Bobbi were gone and they weren't. Why not other people? "Did other people survive too?" Hope was written across his features and brightly flaring in those young eyes. Maybe Tony hadn't known what really happened to everyone? Francis had begun moving down the hallway of their floor and toward the elevator. He never once stopped to even consider putting James down while he did so. He’d carry him all the way to Avengers Mansion without a single complaint. He wished he could tell James yes. That he could paint a rosier picture than what their lives had actually been. He’d been able to hedge around it by omitting certain information, like the death of his parents, but he couldn’t outright lie to him. “No, bud. There wasn’t anyone else. But,” he stressed the word by drawing it out. “One of the really great things about this place? Is that people can turn up here from any time. Which means that sometimes we get the chance to see people that we lost.” The elevator doors opened silently and Francis stepped inside. He hit the button for the ground floor then turned his eyes back to gauge James’ reaction to that news. Francis had James' full attention. He was young and energetic and excitable, but James also knew how to focus when it was important and the miraculous wonder of this place was Important. "Like who?" James was afraid to name names for fear of causing some irrevocable jinx that would keep them away simply because he had asked out loud if Mama was here, if Dad was here, if Uncle Clint and Aunt Bobbi and Katie were here. And on and on and on. So James left the question at that. “Well, Aunt Pepper for one. And a few other people you’ll be familiar with. Did Tony ever talk to you about the multiverse?” It was genuinely ridiculous to ask a six year old about the multiverse, but Francis figured if there was anyone that age that could comprehend it, it would be James Rogers. And Tony was just ridiculous enough to have explained it to him. "Tony and J.O.C.A.S.T.A." James said, confirming Francis' correct assumption and then some. Education hadn't stopped just because the world came apart, and just like before Ultron, there wasn't anything Tony considered too far out of reach of them, just like their parents hadn't thought so. There were still the training games that had become less game, but still age appropriate, and Tony made sure they did things they enjoyed and had some kind of fun, especially when there were Bad Days, but the breadth and depth of universal knowledge accessible was still in reach. "Are there people here from the shrimp dimension?" he asked, eyes widening again. The breadth and depth of knowledge included media and jokes, after all. Francis smiled to himself as James continued. At least now he felt slightly better prepared to share some more of what he knew about who exactly was here with them. The elevator had come to a stop so seamlessly that the movement could hardly be felt, and as the doors slid open, Francis carried the two of them out into the sunshine filled lobby. “Not from the shrimp dimension, no,” he chuckled as he headed toward the front doors. “But there are some alternate versions of a lot of people we care about. They’re not exactly the same, but they’re pretty close, and they mean a whole lot. “My mom is here, and Katie too. I know Katie is going to be so excited to see you. Best of all, though, there’s a version of your mom and dad here too.” He paused before actually exiting the building. He understood that the news he’d just dropped on James was world-shattering and he wanted to give him a chance to at least process it in the relative privacy of the empty lobby before they exited outside onto the Vallo sidewalk. Hearing that Aunt Bobbi and Katie, multiverse or not, were here was thrilling to James and questions bubbled up right away – only to stop bubbling very abruptly as Francis said the thing he said. The thing that seemed to change everything, despite things having felt like they were changing from the moment James woke up. His mom and dad were here. Informationally, James understood what Francis was telling him, that it wouldn't be the parents who had died, but he was a little boy hungry to have back anything he had lost, most especially his parents. "They're here?" His voice was small, but the emotion in it was enormous. "Where? Can I see them? Can it be now?" It would be a lie to say that Francis didn’t immediately want to alter his course from the Mansion to Morningside or the Black Widow house. He may be older, but he knew that feeling. The desperate need to be near a connection to lost parents. It could be all-consuming. After a moment of deliberation, Francis shifted James’ weight to one arm. He used his now free hand to dig into the pocket of his jeans and fish out his phone. “How about we call them, and you can talk to them on the phone and they can meet us at the mansion? What do you think?” Right now, with the idea of his parents holding him firmly in its grip, James would have agreed to motorized paper airplanes to talk to his parents. But hear them? It took all the manners James still possessed not to snatch it out of Francis' hand and call them himself. He nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I wanna talk to them now." A beat. "Please?" “You’ve got it.” Francis scrolled through his contact list and stopped when he got to Natasha’s name. He dialed the number quickly, then handed the phone over to James. With as close as they were, he could hear Natasha’s voice on the other end of the line as she picked up. “Hello?” "Mama?" It came out so breathless it was nearly soundless, before James rallied and said it again. "Mama?" There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone, and Francis felt mildly guilty for not warning Natasha first. Luckily she was quick to understand and adapt. “Good morning, Солнце.” There was another pause, where Francis had to assume Natasha was motioning to Steve, then another deeper voice joined the conversation as well. “Hi James, we’re both here.” At that, James nearly dropped the phone, but a combination of his own fast reflexes and Francis' kept it from tumbling to the ground. That interruption, though, brief as it was, led James to rapid-fire reassure them that he hadn't gone away. "I'm here, I'm still here! I almost dropped the phone but I'm still here." Once the words tumbled out, it was if the energy had stretched its legs and so many risk of becoming tongue-tied evaporated. "We're going to the Mansion, because Francis said it's fixed and it's where Tony is and Pepper is and the other Francis is so can you be there too, please?" That last word wasn't a simple excited child begging for something he wanted; there was a world of pain and loss in that voice, far beyond his years, and it was edged with enough desperation to be pleading. The desperation in James’ voice finally spurred Francis back into movement. He carried them out the front doors of Stark Tower and headed straight toward the Mansion. His usual strides were already long, but Francis lengthened them further and kept his pace brisk. He was sure Steve and Natasha were probably hurrying to get there as quickly as possible as well. On the other end of the line, he could hear the both of them assuring James that they were already on their way to him. Francis tightened his grip around James and sped up. Coming home again was strange even though it was familiar, because things didn't seem quite right, a point he had made out loud and been reassured by Francis that it was the Mansion, not James, that wasn't quite the way it used to be. Add buildings rebuilding themselves wrong to the fast growing list of things James was blown away by in this new world. H.O.M.E.R. greeting them was a sound remembered, so at least that part worked the same. James started to hear a sound, a tapping like rain falling quickly on a noisy roof, and it grew in volume. He hadn't heard rain, real rain, in a long time, let alone on a noisy roof. The sound was even more familiar than H.O.M.E.R., except he couldn't quite place it. Before he could puzzle out the answer, he spotted Tony and he looked exactly like himself, except happier. So much happier. "Tony!" Up until this point, the only time James had let up on his four-limbed clinging grip on Francis was to move one arm, just one, to handle the phone. Otherwise, he had remained locked on well enough that Francis could have freed both of his hands if he wanted. That changed the moment he yelled for Tony and attempted to effectively throw himself out of Francis' arms to get to the other man. By that point, Francis had adjusted to the weight of James clinging to him so much that the scrambling movement caught him by surprise. He moved his arms enough to be a safety net if needed, but it was unnecessary as James was quickly scooped up into Tony’s arms instead. Tony pulled James in close and hugged him tightly. While he wouldn’t trade his life here or his relationship with the elder James for anything, he’d missed this. Being able to hold James like this, to feel the small arms lock around his neck so tightly. He swallowed the massive lump that had risen in his throat. “Hey, kiddo. Having an interesting morning so far?” James planted his face against Tony's neck and took a huge breath before answering him. But then he paused. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. James had thought the sound stopped but it had started again, much closer, and with his face pressed to Tony's neck, other senses allowed memory to stir. The sound stopped and started because of the carpets, because the sound– "Aunt Pepper!" It was an exclamation quietly voiced, rather than loudly yelled, and James' head whipped up to find her not far behind Tony, looking right at him. Looking exactly the same as he remembered her. He didn't cry, exactly, so much as let out a sound akin to a muted whimper, but suddenly she was right there at Tony's back and her hand was on his head, and then stroking his hair back, and his chest started to hurt, like it did when the Bad Days happened and James didn't know what to do for Tony. "My mom and dad are here," he told both of them, even though he wasn't looking at Tony right at that moment. The emotions suddenly felt so big and he shuddered, tightening his grip on Tony. "We know, sweetheart," Pepper said, and James felt a third arm wrap around him, near his legs. The hand in his hair was briefly moved, as Pepper gestured behind him, and that was when James realized it was for Francis. Without hesitation, James freed an arm from around Tony and held it out wide open, the invitation very clear. He’d stepped back near the wall, silently watching James with Pepper and Tony. It was a good, if emotional, feeling to see them like this, and he’d been content to stand by as an observer. Though he should have known better, and that assumption was quickly corrected by Pepper and James both motioning him forward. He grinned that lopsided smile and came to join in on the group hug. Meanwhile Tony had rested his head against the top of James’ hair and turned to lock eyes with Pepper. He was intensely grateful that they had long-since grown past the point of needing words to communicate with each other, because he wasn’t entirely sure he could speak at that moment. He just held tightly onto James and leaned in close to her. Pepper smiled at him, though it was distinctly emotional. Thanks to Blackpoint, she had experienced both James and Torunn at this age, with the added benefit of it being the young James' second time when she was there, with him retaining his memories of the first time. This James clearly had no memory of any of that and, perhaps, it was for the best, because even though it added pain and confusion, it removed the additional loss and grief of not having any of the Blackpoint versions of people, including their Steve and Natalia. For Tony, this was his first experience with having one of the kids back at this size after living with them as adults for a significant amount of time. He was from only a few years beyond her in the timeline, so she knew experiences were comparative, which was why, instead of hustling them all along, she just remained in the group hug with Tony and the kids and gave Tony the time she knew he fiercely needed. It was James who finally broke the silence, but not the embrace. "When are they getting here?" His parents. Torunn. Katie. The others. Any and all people at this point. Tony’s mind was always in motion, whether working on inventions or jumping to conclusions, there was almost always something going on. As he held onto James, he could feel his mind starting to spiral in a hundred different directions. He drew in a shaky inhale to try and regain control of himself again, but it was the sound of James’ breathing that brought him back to the present. The smell of his hair, and the feeling of that arm still tightly wrapped around him calming his turbulent emotions. He loved this kid more than he could ever possibly express. “How about right now?” Natasha’s voice, much steadier than she currently felt, called an answer to James’ question from the doorway of the sitting room. She stood there smiling at him, Steve at her side. The second the post went up that James was babyfied, Kate was on her feet and headed for the Mansion. She’d heard stories of James being little over the time they’d known each other, but she’d never gotten to witness it herself. She doubted he’d recognize her – why would he? – but she couldn’t resist following Nat and Steve to see him. Maybe all she’d do was wave awkwardly and offer to wrestle him later or something, but she couldn’t stay away. It wasn’t like she needed to – Yelena had been de-aged in this bout of weirdness, too, but she was seventeen. She didn’t need or want constant supervision, or attention, but if Kate knew James – big or little – then attention would never be turned down. It was decided they were taking it slow with him, which Kate understood, no matter how antsy it may make her. She’d done the same when Francis and Morgan first turned up after Thanksgiving, though that had been for her sake as well as both of theirs. She wasn’t too experienced with little kids, but once they’d settled in and everyone had adjusted, she’d quickly become a pro. (She would say, actually, she was the world’s greatest aunt.) (Clint would have laughed.) She waited as patiently as she could muster for her turn to say hello, a task that was smoothed over with the help of the adorable Morgan Stark. They turned on a bonafide Stark Industries Family Production, some sort of adorably ridiculous cartoon about space that even Kate found herself sucked into and giggling over by the end. Apparently, there was a whole line of these videos, all credited to Tony Stark and Bobbi Barton, and The ABCs of Space autoplayed right into The World’s Greatest Inventions from A to Z. “This is… surprisingly good,” Kate muttered, completely entranced by the lightbulb turning tricks on screen. Not long after Kate's remark, Pepper appeared in the doorway and smiled at the sight, and then that smile turned into a grin as she realized what they were watching. Deeming it fine for background noise or entertainment once James was done focusing solely on Kate, Pepper left it playing as she motioned Morgan over to her. There was little protest, since Morgan could continue watching it elsewhere, and so Pepper addressed Kate without needing to redirect anything first. "As long as you're fine with it, we can just send James in here," she said. “Oh, uh, sure!” Kate perked up and literally stood up. She wasn’t entirely sure why. It just sort of felt like she should. She was so weirdly nervous. She wanted to make a good impression which was, all in all, kind of ridiculous. She was decidedly good with kids now, and she knew how to handle them, and she knew how to handle James, just in general (mostly), so there wouldn’t be a problem. The situation was just odd. Maybe her nerves were kind of in proportion with that?? “Thanks for hanging with me, Morgy,” she grinned over at the little girl, snagging her for a quick hug on her path toward her mother. “Wish me luck.” "Good luuuck," Morgan sing-songed as she ran to Pepper and took her hand. Pepper smiled at Kate, warm and reassuring, but most of all encouraging. "Just relax. He's going to make it very easy for you," she said, and then she and Morgan left the room. Shortly thereafter came the distinct thumps of feet running, light and quick, and then a little boy with chaotic red hair appeared in the doorway, eyes widening. There she was. Maybe not the way she was in his memory, but enough her to know her. "Katie!" He didn't so much yell it as shriek it as he went from full stop to full sprint and threw himself at her when she was within reach. Kate barely had time to do more than stare, eyes wide, before she was being bowled over, quite literally knocking her legs back against the couch by the ball of fire and excitement that came racing toward her. It was pure luck, in this case, that she managed to keep herself standing. She immediately burst out laughing, lifting her arms around James to squeeze him tightly to her. Every worry she’d had left her in a heartbeat, and she felt a little ridiculous for worrying at all. She would probably dissect her thought process later on, but right now, all she could do was squeeze her adoptive brother and press a kiss into that wild mess of Natasha-red hair. “Hi, you,” she chuckled. She knew she wasn’t exactly the Kate that he’d remembered, but she was obviously close enough to win some points. “I’m so happy to see you!” James hadn't full body jumped and clung to her like he had Francis, but there was no less energy and emotion for his feet still being on the ground. He knew this Katie hadn't died, but not in the same way that Francis hadn't died, because Ultron hadn't ruined the world in her timeline. That didn't stop the big feelings from existing just the same, but James was determined not to cry again – he'd already done enough of that, in his opinion. And it didn't stop him from still saying: "I missed you too! A lot." He lifted his head, small chin planted against her torso. "There are so many people here. And a whole city. And four-eyed dogs." “I know, right?” Kate smiled down at him. “There’s a lot of really cool stuff around here and cool people, too.” She lifted her hands to frame his little face and look at him properly. He was so little, at least compared to James at their age. Where she’d always thought he looked a lot like Steve, James at this age reminded her of Natasha in nearly every way. Maybe that was just some bias toward her big sister, but the resemblance was another thing that made her feel calm. "That's what I said!" James exclaimed. And oh, there were so many people after living with only four other people for three years. "I've seen Francis and Francis and Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper and my mom and dad and Morgan and you already, and Torunn's here and Francis' mom and Torunn's dad and a bunch of Avengers." Real, living heroes, right here in this place. He lowered his voice. "Francis said older me and some of them are off on a mission. He didn't say if it was a secret or not so pretend like it is for now." Kate nodded very seriously. “The secret’s safe with me,” she agreed, miming zipping her lips and tossing away the key. She’d have to remember to give Francis kudos for that story. It was a perfect cover for there being two of him but only one of everyone else, and it explained away his family from home not being around without getting too deep into mechanics. Well done, Hawkeye. “So what do you wanna do while you’re here?” she asked him, finally sinking back down onto the couch so she was more level with his eyes. “Did your mom tell you about our house? We live there together with Yelena. Do you know who that is?” James' nodding was immediate and emphatic at her final question. "I know now! She's my aunt because of Mama. I don't know if she's my aunt at home because I never met her that I remember. I bet Tony would know." He looked like he was considering rushing out to ask and come back to Kate with the information, but ultimately decided against it and stayed with her. “I bet he would,” Kate agreed. She’d never really thought to ask Tony and Pepper much about her or her sisters’ other universe selves. She’d gotten brief bullet points from the comic wikis, so she had a general idea, but multiverse rabbit holes were not where her brain needed to go right now. “Well, Yelena’s really cool, but right now, she’s on that mission with older you,” she explained. Why not? If older James could be on a mission, so could older Yelena. It was easier that way. “And we’ve got a teenager in the house.” She wrinkled up her nose playfully and made a face. At this point, James was convinced that whatever mission all of these future thems were on had to be pretty epic to need as many people as he'd overhead the adults say were part of it. "A too cool to play teenager?" he asked, wrinkling his nose right back. Teenager alone was a mortal sin by any means, but a teenager who didn't want to come do stuff? That was nose-wrinkle-worthy. But, hey, that didn't mean Katie didn't know other people. James grabbed her hand. "Come on, I wanna hear about everybody." And with all the confidence of his parents combined, James drug Katie out of the room with him. The sun had set outside the Avengers Mansion, and after an incredibly full day, Natasha could see that James was losing steam fast and fighting hard against his need for sleep. A quick aside with Pepper had the two women deciding that James sleeping in his bedroom at the Mansion was the best course. Aside from an upgrade to a larger bed, the elder James had left the room almost entirely unchanged and it would be a familiar sort of comfort to his younger self. One of the guest rooms was offered for Natasha and Steve, but she already knew exactly where she wanted them to sleep that night. On either side of James in that bed. With the promise of stories and songs, the two of them eventually managed to corral James into the bedroom and into a pair of pajamas. A large world map hung on the wall above the bed. Various pins, some blue and some black, marked different places on it. James had once confided to her that they were to mark all the places Steve and Natalia Rogers had been on their travels. An Avengers poster was framed above the desk, and an Iron Man themed alarm clock blinked on the nightstand. Everything about the room was cozy and comforting. With a smile, Natasha scooped James up into her arms and covered his face in kisses. Definitely a sight Steve found himself believing he could get used to. A smile had been plastered on his face for hours already, but there was something about prepping James for bedtime that made it feel even more sincere. He'd known James for, by goodness, years now, but as mutual adults. Getting to see him, his son, as a child was something he never truly expected to experience. It was wonderful, especially after all the chaos Vallo had been throwing at them recently. Stepping into the room, he grabbed a book off the desk - the Hobbit, perfect - and moved over to give James a kiss on the forehead, then another for Natasha, though that one was on the lips. His little family. He loved that, too. James had very definitely planned on staying awake as long as was (peak-)humanly possible. How could he waste time sleeping when that time could be spent with his parents, or Francis, or Tony, or any of the other people who were here in the Mansion and beyond? So yes, he absolutely had been fighting sleep and believing he would win when his parents finally convinced him to go upstairs. The discovery that his future self had gotten a bigger bed was actually welcome, because despite James' old bed being built with enhanced abilities in mind, it would have been too small for all of them to stay in, and if he had to go through the motions of going to sleep, then they had to stay. One hand tangled in his mom's hair with his arm around her, he did the opposite of evading those kisses, giggling a bit too much from over-tiredness, and it was only his dad's approach that distracted him. His free hand went to his dad's arm with the book, but it wasn't to pull the book closer, it was just so he could hold on again – one hand on each of them. Natasha’s gaze was soft and warm as she watched the way James held onto Steve’s arm. She’d gone through a gamut of emotions since she’d gotten a call from Francis’ cell early that morning (and lord help that Barton when she had a chance to corner him later). She was thrilled to have this time with James at this age, but for every lovely, happy moment, there were reminders of all the things he’d missed, and her heart broke a little with each one. The way he held them both so tightly, as if he was afraid they’d slip away from him, tugged at her heartstrings, and she pulled him in closer to her. Even as she did so, she leaned into Steve too. She wanted the three of them as close together as possible for as long as possible. A stifled yawn from James finally broke Natasha out of her reverie. She kissed James and Steve both again for good measure, then moved over to the bed and set James down. The comforter that had been on his original, much smaller, bed was folded there neatly, and Nat wasted no time in grabbing it to drape over James’ head and shoulders while he giggled. Her eyes crinkled with a smile as she bundled him up “This is how you get under the covers, right?” "Looks right to me," chimed Steve, joining them at the bed. He'd have to remember for tomorrow that they should see about making a blanket fort. He'd never actually made one, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity. "Though I do see some toes that are ripe for tickling." Still giggling, James yanked his legs back as far as he could, until his legs were tucked against his chest and his feet close to his body. Like that, the comforter easily fell over them with a slight wriggle. "Now you don't!" he declared, and then for good measure, he covered his toes with his hands. Natasha was becoming fairly certain that those giggles of his could heal everything broken inside of her. “Quick thinking,” she nodded her approval to James, then directed her next comment back over to Steve. “He’s got you there, you know.” She moved to the head of the bed and pulled back the actual comforter there. Ducking her head slightly, she leaned in and stage whispered to James. “Better get under there before he catches you. I’ll cover you.” "The great Captain America isn't so easily defeated," answered Steve, humor apparent in his voice. "It'll take more than that to get away from me." He paused long enough to give James enough time to 'escape' under the covers, before sitting on the end of the bed, book still in hand. His dad wasn't wrong, at all – Captain America wasn't easily defeated. Right now, with the two of them there, it was easier to forget that Captain America and Black Widow, the soldier and the spy, were ever defeated at all. Wriggling fiercely, James got his entire body under the bigger cover, all the way up to his nose, so only his fingers, eyes, forehead, and all that hair were visible. It hid a grin, but that grin shifted downward as his dad sat on the end of the bed. "You're not gonna sit beside me and Mama?" he questioned, dropping the comforter and sheets down to his chest. “Yeah, you’re not going to sit beside us?” Natasha gave Steve her widest eyes and poutiest lips and she settled herself down on one side of James. Steve chuckled in response. "I thought I was being held at bay?" But he grinned and moved to the other side of James. "If I'm invited, though, I accept." Extremely pleased with these results, James wiggled until he was comfortably crammed half-upright between his parents. This was familiar, even with the years (and timelines) separating the feeling for James, and that familiarity bred comfort, which brought on more of that tiredness he was so fighting, which brought on heavy eyelids. Add voices to that, nearly-familiar reading words from a book James knew, and that tired overactive brain of that tired little boy finally gave in before Steve reached the third page. |