Chapter Text
They touched down in a private hangar that was specifically for Avengers usage, where Tony was reasonably sure the asshole tattling on them wouldn’t see Laura, the kids, or Spider-Man. The kids were excited as they disembarked, and Peter was once again shanghaied into carrying diaper bags and toys, while Tony was given Nathaniel so that Laura could direct her brood + Peter off the jet and into the hangar.
FRIDAY lit up a strip of lights that Lila and Cooper could chase after, and Tony was forced to put Nathaniel down so the toddler could join his siblings. Ollie appeared almost instantly at Tony’s side, the dog’s head bumping Tony’s palm at the exact moment he needed grounding .
Peter jogged after them, laughing when Cooper tagged him in an impromptu game that had the teen dancing around the kids and plucking Nathaniel up to run across the hangar while Lila and Cooper shrieked after them.
It was good to see Peter lose his “Spider-Man” voice, to loosen up and stop long enough to be a kid. Tony knew that Peter would have gotten in over his head at some point or another, and that he’d put Peter on the right side of the Accords, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d stolen Peter’s childhood.
“Hey,” Laura interjected, scattering his thoughts. “You brood a lot. I’d wager over things you can’t change, and take on responsibilities that aren’t yours.”
Tony’s steps faltered, and Ollie kept time, pressing against his handler’s leg while Tony reeled. How was it that everyone could strip him bare and see his insides, when all he could do was flail?
“I don’t brood. I suffer, sexily.”
Laura snorted, but didn’t leave his side as they caught up to the kids at the hangar exit. Nathaniel was on Peter’s shoulders, the dirty diaper gone from memory as the youngest Barton shrieked, “Again, Spidey! Again!”
“Who’s ready to see their rooms?” Tony called out, and even the tiniest agent snapped to attention with his siblings.
“Uncle Tony, we have rooms?” Cooper whispered in awe, and Tony couldn’t help the smile that fractured across his face.
“Of course. I wasn’t gonna make you sleep in the barracks,” he teased, his fingers seeking out Cooper’s hair of their own volition. The kid fucking beamed at the ruffle, but Tony’s heart didn’t even have time to stutter step, because Lila was grabbing his hand and dragging him through the doorway with a surprising amount of strength.
“Our dad says your barracks are nice, compared to the ‘mean bush’ he’s seen,” she chattered, nose scrunching up on a reference that probably meant Budapest, or some shit.
“Your dad has seen some really intense stuff,” Tony agreed as he plodded obediently after Lila, who was still following FRIDAY’s lead.
They traipsed down the hallway, the kids chattering while Peter looked around in awe; he’d had yet to see the Avengers HQ, even though Tony had a suite set up for him next to Vision, when the kid eventually joined their ranks.
He’d decided to put the Bartons on the quieter side of the compound, away from all the tactical planning, and the empty rooms where the ghosts of his teammates still walked. Clint’s room was supposed to be there too, for when he wanted to bring the kids and Laura up if something happened, but he’d never managed to occupy it before he’d fucked off with Steve.
They stopped at the end of the hallway, where a farmhouse door was nestled into the wall, a warm contrast to the rest of the compound’s sleek styling. Tony had stained it himself, and while it rankled him to have something so...homey, he’d always enjoyed catching a glimpse of it whenever he found himself walking the less frequented paths of headquarters.
“Laura, could you put your hand on the pad next to the door?”
Laura shot him a look like he was crazy, considering there wasn’t a visible pad, though her confusion cleared when FRIDAY slid a small panel back.
“Handprint recognition, facial recognition, biometric iris recognition. You’re the only ones who get access to this suite, and if you don’t want me here, you have every right to keep me out,” Tony explained, hooking two fingers in Ollie’s vest while he struggled to keep his voice even. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want him there.
“Tony.”
Her tone brooked no argument, and he wondered if this is what it was like to be scolded like a parent, but with love and understanding, instead of alcohol, abuse, and cold indifference.
“Laura, don’t-”
“Hush,” she snapped, and even the kids watched in awe as their mother rounded on Tony and pulled him into a tight hug. Ollie braced him from behind, meaning Tony couldn’t pull away and start spluttering about feelings or personal bubbles. He realized, distantly, that FRIDAY opened panels lower on the wall so that the kids could start getting their hand prints scanned, leaving him alone with his shame, and guilt, that he could enjoy the warmth of Laura’s embrace.
“You’re welcome in our home,” Laura murmured. “You gave us this home. You came for us, and made sure we were safe. Of course you’re welcome here.”
Tony allowed his head to drop to her shoulder, let himself hesitantly wrap his arms around her waist, and sink into a hug that wasn’t coming from his ramshackle family, though he always loved hugs from his Honeybear.
“Okay,” he murmured, grateful for Ollie’s warm bulk on the backs of his knees.
Laura pulled away, and Ollie eased up, though he bumped his head under Tony’s hand almost immediately, which prompted Tony to scratch his ears while Laura pressed her hand to the pad.
“Barton Brood verified, please come in,” FRIDAY announced, and Tony was glad he’d gotten the hug before Laura found out about the nickname.
Said brood + Peter spilled into the space, and little Nathaniel was let down to toddle to the pile of toys in the main living area, which also featured small desks for Cooper and Lila, already filled with their interests. Lila was into science and robots, while Cooper was an athletic sort, with a bent for painting and drawing, which he’d shyly shared with Tony over a video chat when his sister and mother were well out of earshot. There was a full kitchen setup, and a dining area to top things off, and Tony’s heart clenched at the idea of this little family sitting at the dinner table, an empty chair a clear indicator of Clint’s absence.
The kids took off down the hallway, screeching when they found their rooms. Tony had left their rooms painted a light grey, fully anticipating that they’d want to pick out their own colors and decorate as they saw fit. The rooms were connected by a door that could be locked from both sides, though he’d included a few fun bits, like secret passages tucked behind bookcases, for shits and giggles.
He’d wanted to go all out and give the kids full beds, fill their rooms with as much cool shit as he could before Pepper marked the spending, but she’d ultimately had the last say, though he’d finagled loft beds, which he’d always wanted as a kid.
“Thanks, Uncle Tony!” Cooper and Lila chirped before they disappeared into each other’s rooms. As Tony walked further down the hallway, Ollie a solid presence at his side, he gestured to the master bedroom.
“This one’s all yours,” he stated. “Nate’s room is only accessible through this one, though I can put a door in if you want.”
Laura stepped inside, trailing her fingers across the duvet of the king queen sized bed as she moved through the room. Nathaniel’s room was on the other side of the connecting ensuite bathroom, though FRIDAY had plenty of protocols to make sure that he and the other kids wouldn’t get into too much trouble with the bathroom. The room was generous, having been built for the whole Barton clan, though Tony had plans to add extra furniture to help the bedroom seem less empty and more Laura’s, especially given the walk-in closet that still held some of Clint’s gear.
Tony heard a soft whimper, and looked over his shoulder in time to see Peter come in cradling Nathaniel, who was sniffling and had a red mark on his forehead. The toddler made grabby hands and Tony, who backed up until he bumped into the bed.
“No. No way. The tiniest agent is all yours, Spiderling.”
“C’mon, Mr. Stark. He doesn’t want me. He bumped his head, and he’s not cryin’ but I don’t know what to do.”
Ollie licked Tony’s fingers, a surefire sign that his dog believed in Tony’s capacity to deal with shit like an adult.
“Fine,” he groaned, and accepted the armful of toddler that Peter handed off.
Before Peter had even left, Nate immediately curled up against Tony’s chest, and he recalled that small agents needed sleep. Probably. Shifting the kid to one arm, Tony resigned himself to being a pillow until Laura unburdened him of the toddler. Ollie trotted ahead of him through the bathroom, and they came upon Laura sitting on Nathaniel’s bed, bent at the waist with her arms wrapped around her knees. Tony was positive that her shoulders were shaking, but she was completely silent.
Tony deposited Tiniest Agent™ into a pile of stuffed toys, which made the kid forget all about the bump on his forehead in lieu of cramming the ear of a stuffed rabbit into his mouth. Laura didn’t move, even when Tony sat down on the tiny agent sized bed, and pulled her against his side. He thought of the hug she’d given him, the forgiveness, the trust, and he figured he could pay that back.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Laura rasped.
Tony didn’t have to ask, and instead scooted until his back was against the wall. Laura scooted back with him, curled into his side without prompting, and didn’t so much as sigh when Ollie crawled up and splayed himself over both their laps. He didn’t have the energy to question whether she wanted him there, or if he was doing the right thing. They were his family, under his protection. He was welcome in their home. It was enough, even if it changed later.
“I know,” Tony said tiredly.
Laura’s fingers tangled in Ollie’s curls while Tony’s hand settled on his dog’s head and absently stroked his ear with his thumb. They stayed like that, breathing into the silence of the room, which was only broken by Nate’s soft snores.
“Thank you, Tony,” Laura whispered.
Tony’s chest seized a little, his heart skipping a beat at the pain in Laura’s voice, from her warmth against his side, from the damp spot on his shirt created by silent tears. Ollie turned his head and licked Tony’s fingers, and Tony decided, with the same level of conviction he had for recovering his blackmarket weapons, that he would protect this little family, his little family, from Clint, Steve, and all the others who hadn’t given a fuck about the people left behind in the crossfire. His ticker might be fucked, but Tony was still Iron Man. Avengers or not.