**Chapter 5: A Messy Mix-Up**
The day had already been a whirlwind of chaos, and Natasha was starting to feel the strain. She had wrestled with the logistics of diaper changes, managed the squabbles between Baby Tony and Baby Steve, and even found herself calming Baby Thor after his stuffed hammer got temporarily misplaced. But as exhausting as it was, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. She was keeping her mini-team safe and relatively happy, and that was no small feat.
She was just beginning to think she had things under control when she noticed something strange. Baby Thor, who had been quietly playing on the floor with his hammer, suddenly stopped and made a face. Natasha recognized that look—it was the universal baby expression for something unpleasant happening in the diaper department.
"Oh no, not again," Natasha muttered, rushing over to Thor before any further damage could be done.
She scooped him up and carried him over to the changing table, setting him down with a sigh. Thor, despite his usual rambunctious nature, seemed unusually calm as Natasha unsnapped his onesie. She soon realized why—this was another monumental mess, even worse than what Baby Bruce had done earlier.
"You've got to be kidding me," Natasha groaned, shaking her head as she reached for the wipes. "What did you eat, Thor?"
As she worked to clean him up, Natasha couldn't help but marvel at how something so small could produce something so... overwhelming. But she was a professional, and she tackled the situation with the same determination she brought to every mission.
Meanwhile, the rest of the babies were still engaged in their various activities. Baby Tony was busily stacking blocks with a level of concentration that would have been impressive even in an adult, while Baby Steve watched him with an expression of quiet admiration. Baby Clint was now using his couch cushion fort as a base from which to launch plush toys across the room, clearly entertained by his own antics.
And then there was Baby Bruce. Ever since his earlier "incident," Bruce had been particularly quiet, which usually wasn't a bad thing. But Natasha had learned that with these tiny Avengers, quietness often led to trouble.
As she continued cleaning up Thor, she noticed Bruce slowly crawling toward the changing table, his curious eyes fixed on something Natasha couldn't immediately identify. She was too busy making sure Thor was properly cleaned and re-diapered to give it much thought—until Bruce reached the base of the changing table and his tiny hand closed around something brown.
It took Natasha a split second too long to realize what had happened. Her heart dropped as she saw Bruce, who had managed to grab a piece of what Thor had... left behind, bring it to his mouth.
"Bruce! No!" Natasha yelled, lunging toward him, but she was too late.
With the innocence only a baby could possess, Bruce had already stuffed the piece of poop into his mouth.
Natasha's stomach turned as she watched Bruce's face twist in surprise and disgust. His tiny lips puckered, and his eyes widened as the taste hit him. Natasha quickly scooped him up, holding him away from her as she rushed toward the nearest sink.
"Oh my god, Bruce, why?" she groaned, trying to keep her panic in check.
Bruce started to cry, his tiny fists waving in the air as he tried to spit out the offending substance. Natasha reached the sink in record time, turning on the water with one hand while holding Bruce securely with the other. She splashed water into his mouth, trying to rinse out the taste as best she could while Bruce squirmed and cried in her arms.
"This is why we don't eat everything we find on the floor," Natasha muttered, more to herself than to Bruce.
Once she was sure his mouth was thoroughly rinsed, she wrapped him in a towel and held him close, trying to soothe his sobs. "It's okay, Bruce," she whispered, rocking him gently. "It's over now. You're okay."
Bruce hiccuped, his cries slowly quieting as he snuggled against her, seeking comfort after the unpleasant experience. Natasha stroked his hair, her own heart still racing from the ordeal.
When she finally managed to calm Bruce down, she carried him back to the living room, where the rest of the babies had continued their activities, oblivious to the drama that had just unfolded. She sat down on the couch, holding Bruce close as she tried to gather her thoughts.
"I'm never going to get that image out of my head," she muttered, shaking her head. "And I don't even want to think about what Bruce will say when he's back to normal."
As if on cue, Baby Tony looked up from his blocks, giving Natasha a look that seemed far too knowing for someone his age. He giggled, as if he somehow understood what had just happened and found it amusing. Natasha glared at him, but there was no real heat in it. If she didn't laugh at the absurdity of the situation, she might just cry.
She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "Okay, new rule," she said aloud, addressing all the babies. "No more eating anything that isn't food. Got it?"
Of course, they were too young to understand, but it made Natasha feel a little better to say it. Bruce, now calm and snuggled in her arms, looked up at her with wide eyes, as if he understood that something had gone wrong, even if he didn't know exactly what.
Natasha smiled down at him, her heart softening. "You're okay, Banner," she whispered, kissing the top of his head. "You'll be back to your old self soon, and then you can go back to eating normal food. No more... surprises."
Bruce let out a soft coo, snuggling closer to her. Natasha held him tightly, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over her. These tiny Avengers might be a handful, but they were her responsibility, and she was going to make sure they were safe and happy, no matter what.
As the day went on, Natasha found herself constantly checking on Bruce, making sure he was okay after his unexpected culinary experiment. And while the memory of what had happened would likely haunt her for a long time, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride. She had faced down one of the messiest, most chaotic days of her life, and she had survived.
She was the Black Widow, after all. If she could handle this, she could handle anything.
