Chapter Text
It's regular to have dinner on the communal floor every other day, mostly when every team member are present but definitely a must after Avengers-level mission.
"It's to remind us that all of our family make it out alright, Natasha," Steve told the Black Widow the other day when she asked why can't they just go lick their wounds on their own.
Funny how the band of misfits is settling better than ever, even so far as regarding one another as families. Perhaps it's also because of what it is composed of, with 2 caregivers, one flip, and a baby it is hard to tone down feelings of protectiveness; the affection that follows is just a sweet by-product.
"Tony I know it's fun to see the noodles fly and land on the wall but please make sure some end up in your tum-tum too." It's Thursday so they are having chinese take-outs. Not sure if it's the food or Tony has some suppressed wall decor dream. Strands of noodles are randomly splattered on the wall behind Bucky, at least the little guy had some decency to miss Bucky's face in his decorating spree.
Everyone knows that Tony Stark classifies as a Little, or at least they know that he is Pepper's little, but not the fact that he falls on the younger spectrum of Littles. It started because he had Stark Industry's name to behold and of course safety issues, and sometimes people also forgo that fact altogether because of his Iron Man persona. All the important people on need-to-know basis are living with him anyway, he doesn't need the whole world to know details of his classification.
Another noodle sticks to the wall followed by giggles that are pitched higher than usual to indicate that Tony has regressed to his baby headspace, Steve can only shake his head as he tries to feed the baby little bits of his stir-fried tofu.
Steve on the other hand was born before the whole classification system is set up and running like it is now, but still, there is no surprise that he tested as a caregiver during S.H.I.E.L.D'S thorough medical examination; even when he was skinny and sickly, he would fight bullies all day. He easily adapts to caregiver-and-littles routine even if he got no little of his own, Tony can be a handful baby when he wants to.
Bucky gently pries the blunt fork from Tony's fingers and picks up his bowl of noodles to cut em up into tiny pieces, then he patiently feeds him spoonfuls of cut-up noodles as his attention is now on Steve.
The mother hen role, though, falls on one James Buchanan Barnes. Once known as the only fallen howling commando and the notorious winter soldier, Bucky is now officially a part of the Avengers. He was pretty reserved at first, only coming up to the communal floor if Steve is asking harassing him to.
Until he met baby Tony.
Pepper is Tony's main caregiver but sometimes there are urgent matters to attend to as SI's new CEO, and vetting babysitters is a nightmare regardless of the headspace her little one is in. As the only other classified caregiver, Uncle Steve is in charge of baby Tony when Pepper is away.
During this one particular instance, Tony stayed with Steve overnight since Pepper needs to go abroad and settle business across China and East Asian associates. Bucky, having retired earlier the night before, missed the commotion of baby Tony crying for his mommy and his pal Steve making the silliest face(s) to soothe him.
The winter soldier still does perimeter checks from time to time, but after months of staying at the tower he now put his utmost faith in F.R.I.D.A.Y to stay vigilant while he lay back a bit on his and Steve's floor. Imagine the pleasant surprise to find a baby curled up on the Punk's hold when he came over for their usual morning run, from that point onward baby Tony acquired another super soldier uncle who would spoil him to pieces.
Clint has finished his meal and is now using his chopsticks (or rather, half a pair of it) to sneakily stab people's food and quickly put it in his mouth, nobody scolds him for that since everyone are aware of his past upbringing, where food was more often than not unattainable.
The family has another one in their care, but unlike Tony, Clint can be both a caregiver and a little. He falls in older headspaces around 11 to 12 when he drops and is a proud brother to Tony, always trying his best to be helpful even when he is little, moreover when he is big. He tends to take on an older sibling role instead of a daddy though.
Clint is married to Laura, a neutral, for years and never really needed a caregiver despite his flip status but Bucky made it his job to supervise little Clint for his even more reckless tendency to make trouble when he is dropped.
Aside from all the fuss from the supersoldiers and baby iron, there is more quiet on the other side of the table. Clint is now content to put his arm around Natasha as she slowly cuts up her food before eating them in an even slower pace, not even once did the archer try to steal a piece of her meal despite the pace she is eating it with.
The rest of the team, Natasha and Bruce, both classify as neutrals. Bruce due to the other guy in him and nobody really know about Natasha actually, her file is redacted with more black lines than actual words. The only person with seemingly decent knowledge about her is the other superspy twin, Clint, who never brought up little and caregiver stuffs regarding Nat so the rest of them just assume that she is a Neutral.
"Alright I'm going to drop Tony off at the penthouse since Friday just informed me that Pepper has arrived," Steve absently addressed the group as he picks up Tony in his arms.
Taking that as a cue that 'family bonding' time is over, Natasha stands up while Clint looks at her with a bit of worry in his eyes, before he followed suit instead of asking questions.
This particular mission is not hard but was quite lengthy, consisting of a 3 days hike and recon in the middle of January, where warmth was scarce amidst miles and miles of snow blanket. Is it too much if Natasha can only focus on the prospect of cocooning herself in blankets?
"Natasha, are you done with your meal?" Bruce asks and the rest of them share the same concern in his tone once they notice that her food container was nearly as full as how it arrived in.
"Gotta keep up my sexiest Avenger title, Bruce." She winked nonchalantly and dismissed the concern quickly with a small upturn on her lips. Unlike with littles, it’s not a common practice to be overbearing with adult neutrals, or in this case, asking Natasha to finish her meals. Pushing down their caregiver urges, Steve continues his way to the penthouse elevator while Bucky starts cleaning up the table since it appears that everyone is done with their meals.
"Good night boys, night night Tony." Natasha expertly masks her haste to leave with graceful steps towards the other elevator that will take them to anywhere except the penthouse, which include the floor that she and Clint reside in. A chorus of nights echo after her and Clint's departure, stepping into the elevator Clint immediately inches closer and let his arm wrap loosely along Natasha's back.
"You okay tash?"
"Mhm. Bit cold but now I can do stuffs to warm up."
"Do you need my help?"
Natasha seemingly contemplates the offer before shaking her head quickly.
"Clint should rest."
Knowing better than to argue with a cranky partner, Clint settles on softly patting Natasha's head before retreating to his own room, where he then asks Friday to notify him if Natasha ever needs anything.
Once in her room, Natasha sighs and lets go of all the tension that she has been carrying since the start of the mission. Her steps are now sloppier since she doesn't have an audience to entertain. Flopping on the bed, she squints her eyes hard once and twice while letting out more huffs to express her frustration. Nu-uh, she is a big girl so she wouldn't stomp her feet but that idea is getting more tempting now that her combat boots are stranded somewhere out there after she kicks them off right after coming off the elevator; red room's stealth training ingrained too deeply in mind for her to make loud stomping noises.
Eyes drooping as the softness of her comforter lull her to sleep, she starts to curl on herself before wincing as the cuts on her body get pulled. Right, a warm shower would probably do good to clean up dirt and blood, and maybe she could use some frozen band-aids to cover up the bigger cuts.
She wishes the bathroom could come over to her and let her clean up in bed instead of the other way around, Tasha just feels so so tired but even teetering between headspaces, she knows that sleeping in icky clothes can make you sick.
Oh right, Natasha is actually a little, not as young as Tony nor a preteen like Clint. She is not really sure about her age range since red room wasn't really keen on the whole classification system in the first place, their trainees are just divided as littles and non-littles. Littles are spotted as early as possible to be given special training both to their ’advantage’ and to help control those with caregiving tendencies. Natalia and Tanya were the only two littles on their batch, the only two who survived until the graduation ceremony at least.
One of the downsides of being a widow and a little is that you're always partnered with other operatives as a prevention measure and the credits will go to their partner as a compensation for taking care of you. So contrary to popular beliefs, the black widow in fact works just fine in a team or partnership.
Natasha likes it even, really.
Like the avengers and her strike team delta partner enough to exchange a bit of her independence and freedom, two things she earned from the short span the black widow went rogue.
Two things that she believes would be lost entirely if anyone figured out that she is a little.
Based on observation and comparison with littles around her, she guesses her headspace to fall around 5-7, not as helpless as a toddler but still quite small to play with bigger kids toys. Combine that with red room training, hiding her headspace comes as second nature now. The confidence she exudes also lead other team mates to associate her little habits as her personal quirks,
"That's just how Natasha usually does it."
The more revealing clues like little gears are safely tucked in the deepest, tiniest, secret compartment with a false bottom in an unassuming drawer in her bedroom. The room that no one is allowed into without her direct supervision.
Both big and little Natasha loves reading, she still tuck away books at random places, much like how she hides weapons. But little Natasha also has a sticker book and coloring books on top of some children's novel books. Another aspect to be grateful of since it would be easier to explain books than stuffies or toys if her secret stash were ever found. Among books and stickers, there is a small tiger stuffie and a soft grey blanket that she often hugs to sleep under her comforter.
After taking a quick shower and changing into comfy rainbow-colored yoga pants and the softest sweater she owns, Tasha makes a bee-line to her bed and flops unceremoniously on top. Her brain is trying to process the mission and what follows after, but nothing is making much sense now that she is starting to drop in the safety of her room.
Tasha is very sleepy and would love to nap for 2 days straight but her mind just won't quiet down, thankfully she is living in the building with the most advanced AI.
"Friday?"
"Yes Tasha, how can I help you?"
"Play a story?" Tasha asks as she rubs her cheeks on the pillow, then adds as an afterthought "Please?"
"Sure thing, you fell asleep halfway on ‘A Bear Called Paddington’. Would you like to continue or start on another story?"
"Uhh.. continue? Wants paddy!"
"Wear your socks to keep your toes warm young missy, I believe there is a pair at the foot of your bed."
Rolling around on her bed with an arm stretched out to look for the socks, she found a mismatched pair of fuzzy kitten socks and put it sloppily on her feet. Deciding that it's too far to roll back and sleep properly Tasha just pulled the comforter and bunch it some up into a makeshift pillow.
"Done Friday, wants paddy."
"Night night Tasha." Friday whispers softly before dimming the room and turning up the temperature in the room, as a podcast reading 'A Bear Called Paddington' plays in the background in low volume, but still enough for each word to sound distinct from each other. If it's too low Tasha would put so much focus on listening that it would make her stay up for as long as possible before she crashed, been there done that.
Usually, she would curl in herself like a kitten, but her wounds are not dressed and she doesn't wanna feel ouchie like she did earlier, so she opted to lay on her front while burying her face on the soft comforter. Tightly gripping her wrist with her other hand, not the comfiest position she knows, but it was familiar, and Tasha loves familiar things.
"Nini, Friday" she mumbles before letting Paddington take her to his world in her dreams, ignoring the way that her little heart wishes for someone to actually read the book to her instead of a stranger’s pre-recorded voice.