Baby Banner-Stark

Uncle Clint

Tony managed to convince Bruce to wait a few days before they broke the news to everyone – Pepper knew, of course she knew, she picked out his middle name – and if he was honest, Bruce didn't need much to be convinced.

He wanted to be selfish and keep their little boy to themselves for as long as possible. The doctor had a feeling that when they knew, there would be a period of hostility – Tony did make him in a test tube – and then people would stop by at all hours just to see him. It would be a very long time before they got a bit of peace.

Two days into diapers, 2 a.m. feedings, and a few rounds of very enthusiastic celebrating between the new dads, the Avengers were called in. Bruce didn't want to go in and leave Mattie, but Tony knew they didn't have an excuse for it, so they called Pepper.

She readily agreed. She hadn't seen the baby outside of the faux-womb he had been formed in, and the CEO was extremely excited to meet her godson.

Pepper looked at him and cried while she hugged Bruce and Tony, then she held him and shooed the heroes out.

They were a bit restless in the meeting, Bruce more-so than Tony. He was still convinced this was all some strange hallucination. During the actual fight they were much more ruthless than usual, destroying robots and knocking out humans faster than any other mission.

When they were finished, they rushed to debrief and went to their personal floor. Pepper had moved the baby's things into a room two away from theirs. They hadn't been able to get the nursery painted yet, but they had had furniture delivered. The crib, changing table, dresser and rocking chair were all made of a dark brown, sturdy wood. The white walls were so far adorned with pictures of the all the Avengers, both in uniform and civilian clothing. The largest picture was one Pepper had taken that morning of Bruce, Tony and Mattie of the couch in the lab. They were surrounded by the bots, and were looking up at the ceiling, laughing at something JARVIS had said.

Their first family photo.

When they reached the room, Mattie was sleeping in the crib and Pepper was sitting in the rocking chair on a StarkPad, absent-mindedly rocking herself. She smiled in relief upon seeing them. "You guys look exhausted." Her nose wrinkled as she hugged them both. "You need showers. Go. Shower, food, nap, preferably in that order. I've still got a few hours before I have to leave, so I'll stay with the baby."

She didn't have to tell them twice. After a quick shower, a few sandwiches, and some shut-eye, the scientists were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, if not a little sore. They lounged around their floor, taking turns with diapers and feedings, just reveling in boredom and fatherhood.

The next morning, Mattie woke up a bit earlier than usual. Tony grumbled something like "It's your turn," and rolled over, the mattress snuffing the light of the arc reactor out.

Bruce laughed tiredly and stumbled into their son's room, swearing as he stubbed a toe. "Okay Mattie, it's alright. Daddy's here." His heart swelled as his roughly-three-week-old son's head flopped around against his shoulder. Mathew still couldn't control his neck muscles and wouldn't for a few months. Bruce changed his diaper and decided to walk and rock; it always seemed to calm him down enough to eat.

He walked and shushed the boy. The crying had just died down when he heard footsteps behind him. Distractedly, Bruce called over his shoulder, "Hey, hon, will you make a bottle? There might still be one in the fridge, actually, from a few hours ago." The footsteps retreated, and Bruce went back to talking to the brown-eyed boy in his arms about the fight from the day before.

"...and then one of your uncles, Clint, saved your papa by shooting an arrow through the head of a robot that snuck up behind him." The footsteps got right behind and bottle appeared next to him. "You aren't allowed to play with Clint's arrows – or any weapon – until you are at least in the double digits."

"Well, there goes my plan." Bruce whirled around at the not-Tony voice, bottle coming out of Mattie's mouth in the process.

There in front of him stood the one and only Uncle Clint, with a look of mild surprise and confusion on his face. Mattie fussed at being interrupted and Bruce stuck the bottle back in his mouth with a quiet "Sh, sweetheart, Daddy's sorry." His eyes never leaving his teammate's face.

"So, care to explain?" He asked with a raised brow and a hand gesture to the child.

Bruce sighed and decided not to put it off any further. He and Clint sat on the couches in the living room and he told Clint the basics of how Mathew came to be. By the end of it, Clint looked to be very conflicted.

"Well, I'm torn between congratulating you, and telling Stark off for playing God and making a child so unnaturally."

Bruce felt his eyes flash green in his indignation, and the Other Guy rumbled in the back of his mind. He opened his mouth to argue but Clint rushed to remedy what he had said. "No! I didn't mean that there was anything wrong with him, Bruce. God, he's perfect." He bit his lip and looked around with a sigh. "It's just, as a father myself, it rubbed me the wrong way, is all. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it."

"You have chicks, Bird-Brain?" Tony wandered down the short hall from their bedroom, wearing black pajama pants and no shirt. He leaned over the back of the couch, forehead rested on Bruce's shoulder and murmured, "Didn't come back to bed. Got worried."

Bruce elected to ignore the feelings that sight gave him, in light of current circumstances.

Clint sighed and let his head drop. "Yes, Tony. Two, as a matter of fact, and a wife. My family is one of SHIELD's best kept secrets. So, now that you know about it, Stark, it will become yours." Tony nodded and crossed his heart. "I mean it, Tony, no playing around. If anything happens to them and I can trace it back to you, rest assured, I will disembowel you."

"Yeah, Hawk, I get it. Now, threats out of the way, do you want to hold him?"

Clint scoffed. "Does Thor like Pop-Tarts? Give me that baby."

One down, three to go.