Chapter Text
Steve brushed James’ hair back out of his eyes, trying to get the wild mane that was his son’s hair back into some semblance of control.
“You look so grown up,” Steve said with a smile, pulling his suit jacket tighter around the little boy.
“I’m a big boy, Poppa, just like you,” James corrected, fiddling with the buttons of his jacket. He was dressed in a pinstripe suit with a blue shirt and his blue Captain America tie. It wasn’t really a Captain America tie but it had a large white star on it and that was enough for James. Steve had given up convincing James to put on dress shoes, leaving him in red Van’s Skate Shoes. A pair of tiny sunglasses hung from his jacket pocket with a purple sucker Clint had given him for luck.
Tony looked up from his cellphone, smiling at them both casually. “He’s ready, Steve. He can handle this.”
“He’s three, Tony,” Steve muttered. Steve knew he still was quite ready to let go of James but the little boy disagreed mightily. He was thrilled at the idea of starting school.
“It’s a test, Steve. They just want to see where to place him in the school. He can read and he can write… on thick ruled paper so they’ll just want to see where he would go academically. We’ve talked about this.”
Steve sighed, “He just turned three, Tony.”
“And we waited until three to start him in school. I did compromise and not send him to boarding school,” Tony rebutted.
Steve glared at him, that fight was old and well fought. “You are not sending MY son to boarding school. And you know you would miss him too much and the others wouldn’t let you do it anyway.”
“What’s boarding, Poppa?” James asked.
Steve answered before Tony could. “It’s where you let something or someone go live for a little while.”
“Was Daddy going to send me to a school to live?” James asked quietly.
Tony shook his head, shooting Steve a dark glare. “No, never, baby. It was something we talked about and decided it’s a bad idea.”
“You reasoned with each other?” he asked, testing one of his new favorite words.
Steve nodded.
“Was Daddy being unreasonable?” he asked, stumbling over a few of the syllables.
Steve nodded, again. “Very much so.”
James nodded back, their matching eyes meeting in their shared way. They both knew how unreasonable Daddy could be.
They pulled up outside the brick walled school and the principal of the school opened their door for them, ushering them inside, past curious parents and nannies waiting for school to let out.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers, this must be your son. I’m Dr. Jones, the principal of the school,” the man said, holding out his hand to the little boy.
James clasped his hand. “Hello. I’m James Stark-Rogers. It’s a pleasure,” he answered as he had been trained. That had been Steve’s training; Tony had wanted him to say “What up?” much to Steve’s embarrassment.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Stark-Rogers,” Dr. Jones greeted, releasing James’ hand.
“You may call me James,” the little boy answered absentmindedly as he watched some kids walk by. He had done the song and dance of greeting media and officials that he could almost do it in his sleep. He took a handful of Steve and Tony’s pant legs in an unusual show of nerves as a long line of 5-year olds passed them on their way to leave for the day.
“Miss Pillsbury will be administering the test for Mr. Stark-Rogers. As I explained, we’ll have him placed in a class that is both developmentally and academically appropriate. We don’t believe in true grade levels here.” He showed them into a comfortable room.
A middle-aged woman greeted them, and explained that James would need to be separated from them for testing purposes. Tony frowned but made sure James’ panic button was still secured to his wrist.
“Do a good job and we’ll wait for you right here,” Steve told him.
“You’ll be just on the other side of the door,” Tony added.
James looked at Miss Pillsbury with an ominous tremble of his lip. “I don’t have to sleep here, right?”
Tony smiled, “No, twenty minutes and you’re out.”
James nodded and followed the lady into her office, the door closing quietly.
Tony and Steve looked around the school quietly. “I don’t like the idea of him going to school yet.”
“I’m starting to agree,” Tony answered. “Did you see the size of those Kindergartners? They could eat him. I think his playgroups are really beneficial but I think he may just be too young still.”
They both descended into silence to await James’s return.
_______________________________________________________________________
“That was thirty minutes,” James said with a grumble as he came past Miss Pillsbury.
Tony laughed. “Sorry about that, baby.”
Miss Pillsbury came up to them with a smile. “You have a remarkable young man.”
“Remarkable means special or unique!” James informed them. “I am remarkable.”
Steve picked him up, kissing his cheek. “Yes, you are.”
“My assistant will take you on a tour of the campus for a few minutes while I discuss the results of the test with the principal to find the best placement for James.”
Steve and Tony took James and showed him all the interesting things he would get to do when he attended school, trying to sell it to the skeptical boy. He rolled his eyes when his parents showed him the science laboratory, he’d seen better in Uncle Bruce’s lab. The library was nothing compared to the New York City library that Uncle Clint took him to, it wasn’t even as good as Barnes and Nobles where Aunt Tasha took him when they went shopping. The playground was nothing special, the gym in the tower was great and SHIELD’s obstacle course was amazing. They didn’t bother to stop at the computer lab; the computer in his room could top the entire school’s set up.
Eventually his Poppa showed him the art room and then the music room, which made the school slightly more entertaining. He didn’t have that at home, but he did have Guitar Hero and a lot of stuff for painting.
The assistant showed them to the principal’s plush office, where they sat across from Miss Pillsbury and Dr. Jones.
“Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers, I can assure you this has never happened before but James has actually tested out of our school.”
“What does that mean?” Tony said suspiciously.
“It means his range of knowledge combined with his level of development just don’t make him suited for a classroom environment,” Dr. Jones confirmed with a gentle smile. “Mentally he’s working on about a ten year old’s level, higher in some subjects. He showed Miss Pillsbury how to find the surface area of a rectangular prism and did the math in his head. Emotionally and physically he’s working about at a six year old’s level. We just don’t have any classes that would match his caliber. We can offer him a private tutor, where he would go to play with the six year olds but work with his teacher.”
“He would have to work by himself?” Steve asked. The whole point of school was to allow him to socialize with other kids in an academic environment.
Dr. Jones sighed, “Yes, if we were to put him into the first grade class it would be too distracting for the other students in there. We would have a room for him to work in and all the resources he could need. We would make allowances for the fact that he just can’t write or type fast enough to do the work like the older students.”
“I would be isolated from the other kids?” James asked.
“Not isolated per say but you would have to work by yourself. At recess and lunch though you could be with other kids your age.”
The little boy pursed his lips and snuggled back into his Poppa’s chest. He obviously was not a fan of this idea.
The principal continued, “For certain events, like field trips and such we would have to make arrangements for him to be with the younger groups. And it would be unfair to have him participate in projects like the spelling bee, math-letes, and science fair, simply because he is working at such a higher level than his age mates. We might see if we could allow him to work with the older students but we would have to discuss this with the parents.”
Tony though had been silent for a long while. “So there’s no place for my son in this school? I don’t want him corralled in a corner to learn like some little weirdo. I could hire a tutor to do the same thing for him. It’s been a pleasure Dr. Jones but I think we are done here. I’d apologize for taking up your time but let’s face it, you’ll be telling the story of James Stark for a few years.” Tony shook the stunned man’s hand before flowing out the door.
Steve was a little more polite but eager to leave. He hefted James on a hip before waving his farewell and apologizing for taking up his time.
Happy was at the car waiting for them to exit.
“I cannot believe this,” Tony muttered darkly slamming his way into a seat. Steve put James in his chair, and buckled him in. “I cannot fucking believe this.”
“Tony…” Steve tried to soothe.
“NO, Steve! They want to corral James with a private teacher all by himself. They won’t put him in the higher classes and let’s face it, I don’t want him in a room with a bunch of sixth graders anyway but still! This was the only school that all my research says James should fit in and we got shit!” Tony ranted.
James was quiet in the seat beside him, forcefully staring out the window. Steve rubbed James’ legs; the little boy was as temperamental and sensitive as his biological father.
Tony continued, “Seriously! This is a school. Aren’t they supposed to be impressed by him? Wouldn’t they want to show that off? This is why I wanted to send him to boarding school, those schools have kids like this and specialize in it.”
“Tony, you know he’s very smart and we weren’t sure it was going to work out. In my opinion he’s still too young for most of this. I want him to enjoy his childhood.”
The brunette frowned at him. “He will regret it later if he doesn’t learn to work hard now.”
Steve rolled his eyes, “I want him to have a childhood! I want him to face-paint with Clint and do science experiments with Bruce. I want him to go shopping with Natasha and have Phil teach him how to do a power point presentation. I like him having bedtime with Thor even though I usually have to calm him down afterwards. That’s what he deserves!”
“Nobody ever received the MacArthur Genius Award for shopping. There are schools in France and England that are better equipped to deal with him. He needs school!”
“And he deserves a childhood.”
They pulled up outside the tower after a few tense minutes of silence in the car. When James was released he hopped out of the car and sprinted to the front door, Steve chased after him, pushing past the media but James was already on the elevator and on the way up by the time Steve made the lobby.
Tony staggered in there, waving off the media’s questions of family issues.
“Where is he?”
Jarvis interrupted, “Heading towards the 93rd floor laboratory as we speak, sir.”
“Send his elevator back here, Jarvis,” Tony ordered.
“I am afraid, Master James has overridden my command code. He will be safely leaving the elevator in five seconds.”
_______________________________________________________________________
James stared out the window as his dad ranted about how weird his son was. His eyes felt hot and his hands felt like they were shaking but they weren’t. He was a weirdo. His Daddy had said so. He knew his brain made some people feel uncomfortable around him but he never once thought his Daddy felt uncomfortable. Poppa would smile and help him when he was reading, always surprised when James could sound out a word he wasn’t expecting. Poppa was always so happy, even if he had to get Daddy or Uncle Bruce to help explain the “science-y” things.
Daddy always kept up with him, always said how James was just like Daddy when he was three. But maybe that hadn’t been a good thing? Daddy wanted to send him away, far away, to live by himself. He didn’t want that, not for one single minute. He waited to be released from his booster seat, he could unbuckle it himself but Poppa wouldn’t want him to do it. He burst out of the car and bolted for the entry to their home, weaving around the legs of surprised reporters and coming inside. He waved at the receptionist as he placed his hand on the elevator door. Daddy and Poppa were struggling to catch up when the elevator door opened and he stepped on.
It began to rise even before he spoke. “Can I go to Uncle Bruce’s lab, Jarvis?”
“May I go to Uncle Bruce’s lab,” Jarvis corrected but continued to the 93rd floor anyway. The elevator slowed, “Your father has requested you return…”
“Override code 2A0079-James Stark Rogers,” James overrode the command, continuing his ascent. It would buy him ten seconds before Jarvis restructured that code. It was not for the elevator banks but for the lock on Daddy’s laboratory and only for emergencies. This was an emergency. He was going to be sent to England or France. Uncle Clint said you had to eat frogs and horses in France; he liked frogs and horses as pets, not food.
He tapped on the window into Uncle Bruce’s laboratory, finally drawing the older man’s attention. The door to the lab slid open.
“How was the school?” Uncle Bruce asked with a gentle smile.
James burst into the tears he had been holding back for twenty minutes. “Don’t send me to France or England!” He tried to climb up Uncle Bruce, clinging to his hip.
Uncle Bruce hefted him into his arms, holding him tight, rocking him back and forth as he sobbed. The man murmured things in his hair talking to Jarvis and kissing his forehead like he always did, letting James cry it out. Once he had finished, wiping his nose on his arm like Poppa hated, he sat in Uncle Bruce’s lap and tried to calm down.
“Now tell me why you are going to France or England?” Uncle Bruce asked calmly.
James wiped his hands over his face, trying to wipe away the drool and tears, sitting still while Uncle Bruce wiped his face with a corner of his t-shirt.
“Daddy said I’m a weirdo. He said that there were schools in England and France that were ‘equipped’ to deal with me. Poppa doesn’t want me to go but they might com…promise.”
“Compromise,” the man corrected.
“Compromise. Daddy said I won’t get a McCarter Genius Grant and he said I won’t fit in school. They are going to send me to away! I’m going to have to live there, all by myself. Will you move to France with me? I don’t want to eat frogs and horses!” James tried not to start crying again but it was difficult, he sniffed hard and tried to think about something else.
He felt a kiss brush his forehead again. “I will not let you go to Europe and your parents are not going to send you there,” Uncle Bruce consoled him.
James sighed as the airlock in the lab released and Daddy came in.
_______________________________________________________________________
Tony grimaced when the elevator returned to them, apparently James had realized that the override he had for entering and exiting the labs also worked on the elevators. Then he smiled, his kid was wicked smart.
“Sirs, Master James appears to be in a lot of distress, he is currently speaking with Dr. Banner about the possibility of him going to Europe.”
“What is the conversation?” Steve answered, not wanting to nose in but he wanted to hear what his son had to say.
Jarvis turned on the speaker so they could hear James voice sob uncontrollably while Bruce muttered to Jarvis about where Tony and Steve were.
Then they heard James start to speak, his voice full of repressed tears. Tony listened as his own words flowed back out of James’ mouth, his words true but misconstrued in the mind of a three year old. He had been frustrated and should’ve held his tongue.
He cursed loudly as he waited outside of Bruce’s lab until the scientist had calmed James back down. His son thought he hated him and believed he would send James away to live by himself.
“I’m going to let you handle this one,” Steve told him, turning to get back on the elevator.
He waited until James had calmed down before opening the lab and entering. He smiled sadly when he saw how James’ grip tightened around Bruce. He forgot sometimes that James was barely three. He still was a little scared of the dark and needed help getting the straw in his juice box.
“Come here, baby,” Tony begged quietly. He didn’t know how he would take it if James refused.
James gave him a searching look but slid of Bruce’s lap and came over, his sneakers tapping on the floor. He allowed himself to be scooped into his father’s arms, still snuggling his face into his father’s neck, tapping a rhythmic 1-2 beat on Tony’s arc reactor.
Tony stroked the little boy’s back, back and forth in a motion that could get James to sleep anywhere. This was his little boy, a whopping twenty-five pounds of wit and fury.
“Jarvis told me what you said to Bruce. I’m sorry I had him invade a private conversation but I wanted to know what the problem was. I didn’t know.”
James nodded his head, still buried in Tony’s neck. He wasn’t quite to the point of understanding privacy yet.
“I’m sorry I yelled, J-baby. I’m not sending you to Europe. I will say it’s something Poppa and I talked about but we decided it would make us too sad to have you so far from us. And you would be sad too and we don’t want that. I just want you to be happy. I think you’ll be happy in a school where you can learn things and be around people your age. I loved school but I also wasn’t happy at home like you are. You have so many people that teach you and I kind of forgot about that. You wouldn’t even know how to write with a pencil if you’re Uncle Phil hadn’t taught you to use one. You’d only write with a stylus. You can count that stupid “real money” because Aunty Tasha takes you shopping and you count money with her. I still don’t know why that’s important, just use plastic, but Poppa disagrees. What should you do if you don’t know how much money to give someone?”
“Hand them a hundred and tell them to keep the change,” James parroted from memory.
Tony laughed, jiggling James in his arms. “See? I teach you the important stuff! So why should I send you to Europe?”
Bruce piped up, “Because you taught him to say ‘ass-hat’?”
“True,” James agreed. Tony shot Bruce a glare.
“Anyway!” he yelled. “I’m not going to send you to Europe or anywhere else. I want you to be with me. All the time, I want you to live in my pocket but you’ve gotten a bit big for that. We’ll figure out school. Don’t worry. I just… I got angry that the school you were supposed to go to wasn’t going to let you in. It was unfair. It’s the only school that is near by that would have adequate facilities for you, including protection.”
Tony sighed and repeated, “But we will figure it out and I will not let you leave.”
________________________________________________________________________
Long after they put James to bed the members of the Avengers sat around the family room discussing options for James’ education.
“Over my dead body, you’ll send him to a boarding school. He’s a kid, he needs to be with his family!” Clint said after they had told them all how the day had gone.
Steve agreed. “We are not going to send him away to school. But our options are limited now. We might be able to find some schools in Los Angeles that could meet his needs but that would mean living in Malibu. We also considered a few schools in Washington D.C. but that’s still him flying there everyday.”
Thor hummed beneath his breath. “What about young James being tutored at home? I was taught at home, with tutors and instructors. I learned the most at the knee of my father and his warriors.”
Tony shrugged. “I’m worried that James won’t have time to socialize with kids his own age. He needs to relate to others and not just us.”
“He had play dates and he meets with Franklin Reed and a few of the student’s from Xavier’s. He does well with others,” Natasha justified. “He’s always a charm at Barnes and Noble when they have story time. He does sometime talk over the head of the other kids but that may just be Stark genetics and not a flaw in his socialization.”
“Ha… Ha ha… Ha ha ha ha,” Tony snarked.
Bruce plucked at the Internet, “There are groups to socialize him at for home-schooling parents.”
Now it was Steve’s turn to snark. “That sounds wonderful… a bunch of secular or nut-job parents that only let their children into the sun with a pound of sunscreen.”
“Whoa,” Clint whistled. “Captain America!”
Steve shook his head, “Sorry, I watched a documentary.”
“I do not see why his friendships are a concern. He had many friends at his birthday celebration not a month back, they are an… odd bunch but they are there.”
Phil flipped through his StarkPad. “Thor has a point, he has friends. Maybe you can involve him in some social groups and activities, several area colleges have things for his age group. There’s also SHIELD day care.”
“Home school!” Clint voted.
Tony and Steve shared a look. “We’ll talk about it and get back to you in the morning.”
_______________________________________________________________________
Tony and Phil worked together in one of their few moments of collaboration as they flipped through curriculum for home schooling.
“Most of this younger curriculum would be pointless for James,” Tony said, as he flipped through the material that would be covered in the younger grades.
Phil sighed, it was a running argument. “I know that. You know that. Anyone who speaks to James knows that but it’s still important that he at least learns it. Nothing will be more embarrassing if in ten years he asked to identify a preposition and can’t do it.”
The SHIELD agent cut Tony off before he could start. “I agree that he can go through it probably at a much faster speed but he does need to have it stored in his brain somewhere. The wider his knowledge base, the better. I’m liking the curriculum they have at this site.” He tossed the site to Tony.
“He’ll probably be finished with the fourth grade material by next year,” Tony muttered, looking through the materials used. “It does have a fairly wide variety of materials. It uses a lot of Bloom’s Taxonomy for the lessons.
“We will also have to keep up to date on his physical and social milestones. I know he’s ahead but it’s important. This curriculum includes milestones that every age group should be hitting.” Phil flicked through the workbook.