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mhalachaiSo anyway here's a random outtake from Hands of Clay where the Barnes' and Rogers' head to the zoo on Mother's Day (which is right around the corner in this story) anyway I was struck with inspiration today after finishing the next two chapters in this story (next chapter on Thursday). This is just messing around.
I figure that they picked up that Sunday and went to the zoo because why not, it wasn’t raining and maybe they’d go for ice cream afterwards (Geeze, Steve, why not just take them to Disneyland while you’re at it) (because I have a meeting tomorrow, but there’s always Father’s Day for that) (oh god shut up before they hear you).
So they went to the zoo, and Natasha simply loved the red pandas and Clint wanted to spend the rest of his life feeding the alpacas and sheep in the barnyard, and James very nearly tricked Steve into milking one of the cows. After a couple of hours, even Clint started sagging and Steve made the executive decision that it was ice cream time, only first they had to do the bathroom thing.
Clint went with Steve into the men’s room, while Natasha got a pep talk and directions to not dawdle, then she headed into the women’s washroom while James waited outside for her in as non-creeperish a way as he could.
(Daddy, I am five years old. I am a big girl! She had said indignantly the week before at the library. I can go to the bathroom by myself. And so James had let her, hovering nervously by the drinking fountain until Natasha came back out again, triumphant and smug about how very capable and adult she was and then James ended up carrying her home because it was raining and she didn’t want her shoes to get wet.)
Steve and Clint reappeared, then Natasha came out (yes I washed my hands. Yes, I used soap. Daddy, honestly!) Then it was James’ turn, and so he didn’t get to witness what Steve later would call "the teachable moment from hell."
So yeah it was Mother’s Day and Natasha didn’t care, she didn’t have a mother and all the grown-ups who said she should give her father something instead were wrong, because Father’s Day was in June and her Daddy would get his present then because he was her daddy and Natasha was doing just fine without a mother, thank you very much. But Clint had a mommy and even though he only got to see her a few times a year, he loved his mommy very much and thought she was perfect and beautiful and smart and gave the best hugs and sometimes he missed her so much that he cried himself to sleep, but he didn’t tell his dad because it made his dad sad and Clint didn’t want to see his dad sad.
(He also had a secret about Mother’s Day, one he hadn’t told even Natasha. He had made his mother a Mother’s Day card in kindergarten last week like everyone else. He had been so careful in gluing the macaroni shapes onto the construction paper, and had made two special purple flowers instead of one like he was supposed to. He smuggled the card home in his backpack and hid it in his secret box of things he was going to show mommy when she came home again, like the special flat stone he’d found at Coney Island and the drawing he’d made at Christmas of him and her and daddy. One day, mommy would come home and he would give her the Mother’s Day card and she would be happy and maybe she wouldn’t leave quite so soon this time.)
In any event, back at the zoo, Steve was sitting on a bench checking his email while Clint and Natasha debated the merits of asking for a snack before they left, versus waiting for the promised ice cream, when some lady butted in and asked them if they had done nice things for their mommies on Mother’s Day.
Natasha looked at the woman with narrowed eyes, but Clint answered right away because that was what he did when someone asked him a question. “My mommy works. I live with my dad.”
The woman bent down in front of Clint, which made Natasha very unhappy because her daddy had always told her that strange adults shouldn’t talk to children without checking with the other grownups first. And Steve was sitting right over there. “Oh, you poor thing,” the woman was saying, her face all screwed up. “Your daddy not even letting you see your mommy on Mother’s Day.”
That wasn’t right, not at all, but Clint didn’t know what to say because a big ball of sad was starting to balloon in his stomach, the kind of sad where he missed his mommy so much and he couldn’t talk about it to anyone. “My mommy’s working,” he tried to shout, but it came out as a whisper and there were hot tears in his eyes and his throat hurt and he desperately wanted this woman to go away.
Natasha, her hands clenched at her sides, shoved her way between Clint and the strange woman, and said very loudly, “Well, I don’t have a mommy. She didn’t want me and so she left me in a garbage can and now I have a daddy and he,” Natasha said, stepping closer to the woman. “Told me not to talk to strangers.”
Steve was there then, asking what was the matter and Clint could press his face against his father’s pant leg and Natasha was saying things but all Clint wanted was for everyone to go away so he could hide and cry alone because only babies cried because they missed their mothers, everyone knew that.
Then Steve was lifting Clint up to his shoulder and asking him what was the matter and the great big balloon of sad rose up in Clint’s stomach and came out his mouth and he started to cry because he missed mommy and he hadn’t seen her for so long and he was worried that she was never going to come home and she would die because Clint was five and when Daddy was five his mother died and Daddy had to go into foster care because there was no one to take care of him and he was all alone.
This was the scene that James came upon when he exited the bathroom, a scant minute later.
James looked at the situation, realized that his fatherly experience was of no use, and mentally put on his sergeant’s bars once again. He dispatched a still-indignant Natasha to the vending machine to buy a soda, gave Steve a firm pat on the shoulder, and darted into the men’s’ room to grab a handful of paper towels.
By this point, Clint was so worked up that he couldn’t stop crying, so James just twisted the lid off the soda bottle, shoved it in Clint’s face, and said, “Drink.”
Still crying, Clint took the bottle and drank. His sobs tapered off slowly as he knocked back half the soda in one go.
When the sobs were gone, James took the bottle away from him, handed him the handful of napkins, and said, “Blow.”
Clint blew his nose, then hiccupping softly, pressed his face against his father’s neck and let Steve pat his back for a while.
“What the hell happened?”
Natasha launched directly into the tale, her wrath and desire for vengeance apparent against the person who had made Clint cry. Steve just sat there, holding Clint with one arm and taking a shot of soda to fortify himself before handing the bottle back to James.
As Natasha’s story ended, James pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Okay, and this is a side note, Natasha, but no one left you in a garbage can. You were left at the hospital.”
“I know,” Natasha said, her hands clasped behind her back. “But when I say that, people get weird and they go away. I wanted her to go away.”
As James rolled his eyes, Steve ran his hand over Clint’s head. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked.
With a mighty sniffle, Clint said reluctantly, “I miss mommy.”
“Oh, Clint.” Steve shifted Clint around so they were looking at each other. “You know that your mother is working, far away, right? That’s why she isn’t here.”
“I know,” Clint said, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “But sometimes I miss her.”
“If you miss your mommy, you should write her a letter like you write me a letter,” Natasha put in, taking the soda bottle from James. “Also you should eat ice cream.”
Clint sniffled again and looked at his father with huge, wet eyes. “Can we still have ice cream?” he asked.
”Of course,” Steve said, and if the hug he gave Clint was just a little too tight, Clint didn’t complain. “And any time you want to talk about your mom, just ask, okay?”
“Really?” Clint asked.
“Really.” Steve kissed Clint on the top of the head and stood up with him. “Come on, let’s go wash your face then go get ice cream, okay?”
James and Natasha watched the Rogers boys head into the bathroom. Then they looked at each other. “I don’t like it when Clint is sad,” Natasha said crossly.
“Me either,” James said. “Nat, did I ever tell you the most important part of being a best friend?”
Natasha clutched at James’ sleeve, her eyes wide. “What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
“You stick up for your friend,” James said grimly. “Any time they’re in trouble, you’re right at their side. You’re with them to the end of the line, just like they’ll be there with you.”
Natasha listened to this advice as if it was a sermon. “I will, Daddy,” she said solemnly. “I got Clint’s back, every time!”
“Good.” James looked around to make sure Steve was still in the bathroom. “Now give me a high-five. You did good today, pumpkin.”
Natasha gave high-five, low-five, and the ever-important fist bump. If anyone ever tried to make her Clint sad again, they would have to go through her first.
(And then they went to get ice cream and in his guilt over Sharon, Steve let Clint get a triple scoop sundae and watched in horrified fascination as Clint finished the whole thing.)
(and that night then they had a long talk about missing mommy and there were some tears and lots of hugs and Clint showed Steve the Mother’s Day card and Steve was impressed, and that night Clint didn’t cry at all.)
author's note: yeah I dunno this happened because I couldn't fit Mother's Day into the story and then there was stuff about Clint missing his mother and now it'slate and back to school tomorrow.
I figure that they picked up that Sunday and went to the zoo because why not, it wasn’t raining and maybe they’d go for ice cream afterwards (Geeze, Steve, why not just take them to Disneyland while you’re at it) (because I have a meeting tomorrow, but there’s always Father’s Day for that) (oh god shut up before they hear you).
So they went to the zoo, and Natasha simply loved the red pandas and Clint wanted to spend the rest of his life feeding the alpacas and sheep in the barnyard, and James very nearly tricked Steve into milking one of the cows. After a couple of hours, even Clint started sagging and Steve made the executive decision that it was ice cream time, only first they had to do the bathroom thing.
Clint went with Steve into the men’s room, while Natasha got a pep talk and directions to not dawdle, then she headed into the women’s washroom while James waited outside for her in as non-creeperish a way as he could.
(Daddy, I am five years old. I am a big girl! She had said indignantly the week before at the library. I can go to the bathroom by myself. And so James had let her, hovering nervously by the drinking fountain until Natasha came back out again, triumphant and smug about how very capable and adult she was and then James ended up carrying her home because it was raining and she didn’t want her shoes to get wet.)
Steve and Clint reappeared, then Natasha came out (yes I washed my hands. Yes, I used soap. Daddy, honestly!) Then it was James’ turn, and so he didn’t get to witness what Steve later would call "the teachable moment from hell."
So yeah it was Mother’s Day and Natasha didn’t care, she didn’t have a mother and all the grown-ups who said she should give her father something instead were wrong, because Father’s Day was in June and her Daddy would get his present then because he was her daddy and Natasha was doing just fine without a mother, thank you very much. But Clint had a mommy and even though he only got to see her a few times a year, he loved his mommy very much and thought she was perfect and beautiful and smart and gave the best hugs and sometimes he missed her so much that he cried himself to sleep, but he didn’t tell his dad because it made his dad sad and Clint didn’t want to see his dad sad.
(He also had a secret about Mother’s Day, one he hadn’t told even Natasha. He had made his mother a Mother’s Day card in kindergarten last week like everyone else. He had been so careful in gluing the macaroni shapes onto the construction paper, and had made two special purple flowers instead of one like he was supposed to. He smuggled the card home in his backpack and hid it in his secret box of things he was going to show mommy when she came home again, like the special flat stone he’d found at Coney Island and the drawing he’d made at Christmas of him and her and daddy. One day, mommy would come home and he would give her the Mother’s Day card and she would be happy and maybe she wouldn’t leave quite so soon this time.)
In any event, back at the zoo, Steve was sitting on a bench checking his email while Clint and Natasha debated the merits of asking for a snack before they left, versus waiting for the promised ice cream, when some lady butted in and asked them if they had done nice things for their mommies on Mother’s Day.
Natasha looked at the woman with narrowed eyes, but Clint answered right away because that was what he did when someone asked him a question. “My mommy works. I live with my dad.”
The woman bent down in front of Clint, which made Natasha very unhappy because her daddy had always told her that strange adults shouldn’t talk to children without checking with the other grownups first. And Steve was sitting right over there. “Oh, you poor thing,” the woman was saying, her face all screwed up. “Your daddy not even letting you see your mommy on Mother’s Day.”
That wasn’t right, not at all, but Clint didn’t know what to say because a big ball of sad was starting to balloon in his stomach, the kind of sad where he missed his mommy so much and he couldn’t talk about it to anyone. “My mommy’s working,” he tried to shout, but it came out as a whisper and there were hot tears in his eyes and his throat hurt and he desperately wanted this woman to go away.
Natasha, her hands clenched at her sides, shoved her way between Clint and the strange woman, and said very loudly, “Well, I don’t have a mommy. She didn’t want me and so she left me in a garbage can and now I have a daddy and he,” Natasha said, stepping closer to the woman. “Told me not to talk to strangers.”
Steve was there then, asking what was the matter and Clint could press his face against his father’s pant leg and Natasha was saying things but all Clint wanted was for everyone to go away so he could hide and cry alone because only babies cried because they missed their mothers, everyone knew that.
Then Steve was lifting Clint up to his shoulder and asking him what was the matter and the great big balloon of sad rose up in Clint’s stomach and came out his mouth and he started to cry because he missed mommy and he hadn’t seen her for so long and he was worried that she was never going to come home and she would die because Clint was five and when Daddy was five his mother died and Daddy had to go into foster care because there was no one to take care of him and he was all alone.
This was the scene that James came upon when he exited the bathroom, a scant minute later.
James looked at the situation, realized that his fatherly experience was of no use, and mentally put on his sergeant’s bars once again. He dispatched a still-indignant Natasha to the vending machine to buy a soda, gave Steve a firm pat on the shoulder, and darted into the men’s’ room to grab a handful of paper towels.
By this point, Clint was so worked up that he couldn’t stop crying, so James just twisted the lid off the soda bottle, shoved it in Clint’s face, and said, “Drink.”
Still crying, Clint took the bottle and drank. His sobs tapered off slowly as he knocked back half the soda in one go.
When the sobs were gone, James took the bottle away from him, handed him the handful of napkins, and said, “Blow.”
Clint blew his nose, then hiccupping softly, pressed his face against his father’s neck and let Steve pat his back for a while.
“What the hell happened?”
Natasha launched directly into the tale, her wrath and desire for vengeance apparent against the person who had made Clint cry. Steve just sat there, holding Clint with one arm and taking a shot of soda to fortify himself before handing the bottle back to James.
As Natasha’s story ended, James pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Okay, and this is a side note, Natasha, but no one left you in a garbage can. You were left at the hospital.”
“I know,” Natasha said, her hands clasped behind her back. “But when I say that, people get weird and they go away. I wanted her to go away.”
As James rolled his eyes, Steve ran his hand over Clint’s head. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked.
With a mighty sniffle, Clint said reluctantly, “I miss mommy.”
“Oh, Clint.” Steve shifted Clint around so they were looking at each other. “You know that your mother is working, far away, right? That’s why she isn’t here.”
“I know,” Clint said, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “But sometimes I miss her.”
“If you miss your mommy, you should write her a letter like you write me a letter,” Natasha put in, taking the soda bottle from James. “Also you should eat ice cream.”
Clint sniffled again and looked at his father with huge, wet eyes. “Can we still have ice cream?” he asked.
”Of course,” Steve said, and if the hug he gave Clint was just a little too tight, Clint didn’t complain. “And any time you want to talk about your mom, just ask, okay?”
“Really?” Clint asked.
“Really.” Steve kissed Clint on the top of the head and stood up with him. “Come on, let’s go wash your face then go get ice cream, okay?”
James and Natasha watched the Rogers boys head into the bathroom. Then they looked at each other. “I don’t like it when Clint is sad,” Natasha said crossly.
“Me either,” James said. “Nat, did I ever tell you the most important part of being a best friend?”
Natasha clutched at James’ sleeve, her eyes wide. “What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
“You stick up for your friend,” James said grimly. “Any time they’re in trouble, you’re right at their side. You’re with them to the end of the line, just like they’ll be there with you.”
Natasha listened to this advice as if it was a sermon. “I will, Daddy,” she said solemnly. “I got Clint’s back, every time!”
“Good.” James looked around to make sure Steve was still in the bathroom. “Now give me a high-five. You did good today, pumpkin.”
Natasha gave high-five, low-five, and the ever-important fist bump. If anyone ever tried to make her Clint sad again, they would have to go through her first.
(And then they went to get ice cream and in his guilt over Sharon, Steve let Clint get a triple scoop sundae and watched in horrified fascination as Clint finished the whole thing.)
(and that night then they had a long talk about missing mommy and there were some tears and lots of hugs and Clint showed Steve the Mother’s Day card and Steve was impressed, and that night Clint didn’t cry at all.)
author's note: yeah I dunno this happened because I couldn't fit Mother's Day into the story and then there was stuff about Clint missing his mother and now it'slate and back to school tomorrow.
