#who would beam at his toddler grandson and wave and ask him all the right questions

[blueteamtexas]

reading caboose's page on the rvb fan wiki is kinda sickening ngl. please learn how to reference people with tbi like. "this is caboose. he is very stupid. there is major brain damage or w/e but liek. his main attributes are his idiocy and how fucking dumb he is. basically a baby if it could talk. cant even use a gun" thats fucked up. i personally know several people with tbis who are still happily married (possibly sexually active, i never asked), full ass adults with lives and cares and worries and struggles. its so unfair that everyone treats wash's cerebral hypoxia with grace and delicacy (bar the whole character arc of carolina handling it with less grace and more fear) but caboose is just an idiot? why does wash get that "is this what donut feels like all the time" but not "is this what caboose feels all the time"? it breaks my heart (and scares me) that when seeing someone struggling with understanding their reality and word comprehension a lot of reactions are just "stupid"

tldr: stop fucking treating diabled people like invalids for fucks sake

(edit: ive been informed that caboose suffers from an abi (aquired brain injury), not a tbi (traumatic brain injury).)

[fallenfurther]

A break in the clouds - Part 4

It’s debrief time and it’s up to Grandma to keep the little cutie out of trouble. I sit there and want to cuddle the little boy myself. I so see this little boy pouting just like Alan does. 

Scott, Virgil, Gordon

*********

Grandma

Sally held the hand of her great grandson as he made his way down the steps, one at a time. The boy had been a surprise, but one that had made all their lives better. She adored him and his cheeky personality. A miniature Scott in so many ways that there were times she was transported back thirty years. Sometimes more when bits of Jeff shone through. There were even glimpses of Lucille that slipped through from time to time. Sally was sure she would be able to see the boy’s mother in him, if she knew the woman a little more, but the woman had preferred to keep her distance. There had been one visit to the island while the boy was baby, but it had not suited her. Her life was on the mainland.

Considering the state of her grandsons, Sally knew she was going to need to give them time and space to get through the debrief. It was going to be tough one, and certainly not suitable for young ears. Smiling at her foresight, she had the perfect task that would keep the little one busy.

“Go sit at the table, sweetheart. I’ve got something fun for you that I’ve hidden in the kitchen.”

Sally headed towards the kitchen cupboards, keeping a constant eye on the child as he pulled himself up onto one of the dinning room chairs. It wasn’t the most graceful method she’d ever seen, but he managed it. A gleeful smile came her way as he bounced on his knees, hands on the table. Opening the cupboard, Sally carefully retrieved the sprout box from the top shelf and carried it over.

“Sit down properly now, and I’ll show you what I’ve got in here.”

Her great grandson lent forward before plopping himself back down on his bottom. She knew he’s be on his knees again in no time, but his excitement at what was in the box was winning right now, and she was going to make the most of it. Carefully opening the flaps, with the child straining his neck to peek inside, Sally removed the rocket shaped cookies and placed them before him. The gasp was accompanied by reaching hands, but Sally raised her finger up and he pulled his hands back before she could ask him to. Next to be placed in front of the boy was the tubes of coloured icing and a packet of jellybeans. Sally was relieved to see the vegetable box had done the trick as nothing was missing or opened. The look of pure joy that lit up the child’s face was priceless, though what little boy wouldn’t be excited with a box of cookies.

“These are not for eating.”

The sorrow that filled those blue was genuine as a single small hand reached out. A little lip puckered.

“But cookies?”

“These cookies are for you to decorate for your Dad and uncles. Don’t you think it would help cheer them up if you made them some cookies?”

A slow nod was his response.

“And if you ask them nicely, they might let you have one.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The grin was back, and his little hand was reaching for the colourful tubes. Sally nudged the box closer, allowing the child to open the packet. Stepping away quickly, she grabbed a clean tray, chopping board and piled on the ingredients she required for sandwiches. As she approached a blue tube was waved in her direction.

“Open please.”

Smiling at him, she placed her tray down and took the tube. Twisting off the stiff lids, she piled them to the side, knowing it was pointless to try keep them in any order. She would be lucky of there was any icing left to save after this little monster had finished with them. Slipping the tray from the bottom of her pile, she placed it before her great grandson before grabbing a wet wipe. She gave his hands the once over and finally opened box of cookies. His hand immediately darted in and grabbed one. As she used the rest of the cloth to clean her own hands, she gazed down at the boy as he squeezed blue squiggles over the first rocket.

“You can put three of these on each cookie, understand?”

Sally held up the packet of jellybeans to some furious nodding. Slipping the zip lock open she lay it beside the cookie box. Probing fingers reached in.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

There was much concentration on that small round face as he counted, and it melted Sally’s heart. He could count so well thanks to the Thunderbirds that were hidden deep within the island. Each uncle helping by teaching him the number of their craft. Shifting her ingredients to the side, she started to prepare lunch for her family. They may not appreciate her cooking, but she was perfectly capable of making a decent sandwich. As long as she restrained herself from adding any ‘special ingredient’ the boys would eat them happily. It made food less interesting, but Sally could live with it every now and then. Keeping half an eye on the opposite side of the table. She buttered bread and layered up cooked ham, lettuce, tomatoes and cheese, before cutting the sandwiches into triangles.  Before long she had used up and entire loaf and was in need of another packet of ham. Nipping into the kitchen she grabbed what she needed as well as an extra couple of plates. In the reflection on the automated kitchen unit, she spotted a hand dart into the sweet packet before heading straight to an awaiting mouth.

“I saw that!”

She didn’t turn around to speak, preferring the element of surprise. Her great grandson’s reflection jumped as he turned her way, a face etched with shock. Picking up the items, she turned to face him. She fought the smile that always threatened when she’d caught someone in the act. Big guilty eyes pleaded with her.

“How?”

“I see everything. I thought you would know that by now, young man. If I see you do that again you’ll be getting no cookie today, understand?”

He responded with a small pout and solemn nod.

“Good. Do you want to finish those up? It’ll be lunch time soon.”

“Yes, Grammie!”

The two of them finished their work in companionable silence. The little boy’s tongue was sticking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on making colourful patterns on the rockets. There was no repeat of the sneaky escapade and Sally was able to tidy up as he finished the last one.

“All done!”

Sticky hands were thrown in the air with the exclamation. Sally grabbed a damp soapy cloth and headed over to the beaming boy for the inspection.

“Very good! I think your Dad and uncles are going to love them. Now, time to clean you up.”

Sally grabbed the boy’s arms and swiftly wiped the multicoloured stains from them, as well as the icing that had managed to get all up his arms and onto his shirt too. Once he was all clean, she playfully wiped his face, getting a disgruntled pout back. She gave a quick wipe over the few saveable tubes; black, brown and white. Sally slid the tray to the side and removed the temptation of the jellybeans.

“How about you help me prepare for lunch?”

“Okay.”

Sally ruffled the boy’s soft locks before retrieving two big sharing bags of chips and some bowls. Passing one to her great grandson, she observed him trying to pull it open. Opening hers, she offered it to him. The swap was accepted, and he gave her a cheeky grin as he snatched one out and ate it. Sally gasped comically, causing giggles to echo around the room.

“Put them in the bowl, please.”

Upending the bag over the bowl, the boy filled it up with some almighty shakes. Sally took the empty bag and turned a blind eye to the eating of the three chips that had missed their target. With footsteps approaching, Sally tipped the other bag into the remaining bowl. Her boys would be hungry. It was Scott who appeared first, his eyes already spotting the food on the table, though he headed straight for his son. Sally stepped away to fill a jug with water.

"Did you decorate all those cookies?"

Scott's voice was filled with the excitement and pride all parents expressed for their little one’s achievements.

"Yes!"

Sally cast a loving eye over the pair. Her grandson knelt next to the chair, so he was the same level as his son.

"You haven't eaten any already have you?"

"No."

There was so much pride in the little boy's voice as he soaked up his father’s attention. Scott lent in close and put his hand to the boy's ear.

"Did Grammie make them?"

Scott had hushed his voice, but she still heard. Sally held her tongue, holding in her normal response of 'I heard that'. Her great grandson was chuckling. She headed over and slide the tray from the table.

"I did not make them, and they are for after lunch. Now sit down, young man."

"I think I'm in trouble."

Scott whispered loudly to his son, before he scooped up the happy toddler and slipped into the vacated seat. There were enough chairs for everyone, but Scott needed the closeness. She could see the sadness in her grandson's blue eyes as clear as day. There was still healing that needed to be done. The rest of the family started to take their places at the table. Virgil joined her in the kitchen to grab plates and the jug of water. Sally carried glasses and joined her family for lunch, smiling as she watched many hands diving into the bowls of chips.

[miss-tc-nova]

Guide - Eraqus & Brain

Yes, I am currently subscribed to the “Brain is Eraqus’s grandpa theory.” When that bit came up, I knew I had to write this. AND, it was originally going to be a lot darker, but I spruced it up a bit and like this version better. 

~~~~~

              “The darkness will not win!” Wooden weapons clash.

              The boy with slate colored hair hits back. “Hiya!”

              While the defender stumbles back, he recovers quickly. He prepares to rejoin the fight but movement in the window catches his eye. There’s someone in his house—someone he recognizes.

              An enormous gasp leaves his mouth, startling his opponent. His weapon falls into the grass as the boy races for the backdoor. Little feet patter across the floor, rushing for the visitor.

              “Grandpa!”

              Granite eyes light up. “There’s my little sunshine!” Reaching down, he scoops up the giggling child who immediately reaches for that worn hat. “What have you been up to today?” he asks, straightening the headwear on the little boy’s head.

              “Me and my friends were playing Keyblade War but I saw you in the window!” he happily states, pointing out the open backdoor.

              “Friends, huh?”

              “Yeah! And—”

              “Eraqus!” A tiny, little blonde pokes her head inside.

              “Come back! We need you to make the teams even!” A white-haired boy runs in, skidding to a halt when he sees the stranger.

              Another girl, this one with silver hair and golden eyes, jumps in. “Are you comin’ or not?!”

              The enemy from earlier spots Eraqus in his grandfather’s arms and gapes. “M-M-Master Brain!”

              A third boy tilts his head of red hair, not very impressed at all. “Hermod, are you sure? He doesn’t look like a master to me.”

              Grandpa simply chuckles but Eraqus is not having his friend’s disrespect. “Yes he does, Bragi! This is my grandpa!”

              “Just because he’s your grandpa doesn’t mean he’s Master Brain,” Bragi huffs, still eyeing the man suspiciously.

              “You pea-brain,” the silver-haired girl snaps. “Teacher told us Eraqus is the grandson of Master Brain. So if that’s Eraqus’s grandpa, then that’s Master Brain.”

              His amber eyes widen. “Oh…”

              Hermod pushes a sheepish Bragi closer. “Say you’re sorry,” he whispers not so subtly.

              Now before a legendary master, the kid doesn’t seem so confident. “S-Sorry, sir.”

              Grandpa laughs, letting his grandson slip to the floor. “Don’t worry about it, kid; I’m not working right now. I just came to visit Eraqus, but I guess he’s already got visitors today.”

              If Eraqus had to pick his favorite person in the whole world, it would be his grandfather. He loves his mother and father but not the same way he loves this man. “But you can stay, right?” he begs, tugging on the jacket. “I want you to meet my friends!”

              “You do, huh?”

              Frantic nodding messes the wavy hair. He’d do anything to spend time with Grandpa and will take every chance given to show him off—not because he’s Master Brain, but because Grandpa is the best.

              “Alright. Do you want to introduce me then?” Grandpa says with a smile.

              His excitement is so great, his words run together in his already small mouth. “This is Bragi and Hermod and Urd and Baldr and Vor and they’re all in my class!”

              Children wave or comment at the mention of their names and then it’s Grandpa’s turn. “It’s nice to meet you all. I’m Brain. So you all want to be keyblade warriors, huh?”

              Baldr is the first to voice their dreams. “Yeah!”

              “We’re gonna be the best!” Urd agrees.

              “Oh ho? Even better than me?”

              Immediately, the little girl’s confidence falters into fear. “N-No sir! Never better than you!”

              A grunt escapes the man as he sits himself on the floor among the kids. “Now that’s not the right answer.” She appears even more distraught. “You should always aspire to be better than the generations that came before. If each and every one of you becomes better warriors than I ever was, then I know the future will be in good hands. So go ahead, be the best, and don’t stop until you are.”

              Urd’s frown turns into a beaming smile and the others start to catch her elation too.

              “Hey, do you have any cool stories about the Keyblade War?” Bragi asks, having recovered from his blunder as if it never happened.

              “Mmm, no, but I do have a great story about this giant Heartless that tried to destroy my favorite bakery.”

              Eraqus exclaims, “The one you beat while eating a tart?!”

              “Yes, that one.”

              “That one’s my favorite!” The kid excitedly sits down, staring up at his grandfather, one hundred percent ready to listen to another telling of his favorite story. Eraqus is an excitable, impatient child but when it comes to his grandfather, he would happily listen to the same story over and over again. Not only is Grandpa his biggest hero, but the relationship he has with his grandfather is the relationship he wishes he shared with his parents.

              The gaggle of children plop on the ground while Grandpa tells his silly tale of fending off a ferocious monster. Before long, the storyteller’s got every one of the rambunctious toddlers hanging on his every word, sparing time to answer excellent questions the curious come up with. Their little expressive faces show every bit of awe and delight as they listen, all the while Eraqus radiates pride.

              “Wait, how did you pay for the tarts if Master Lauriam took your wallet?” Urd asks, ever the perceptive one.

              Hesitation. “Uh…Well…”

              Vor gasps, “Master Brain! Did you steal them?!”

              “No! Nooooo!” Grandpa replies hastily. A warning finger points at them. “Stealing is bad and you should not steal from other people.”

              Eraqus tilts his head. “But didn’t you steal Master Ephemer’s coffee?”

              “No! I did not steal the coffee and when the fight was over, I made Lauriam pay for the tarts since he took my wallet!”

              “Did he steal it?” Baldr asks.

              The master seems to contemplate this new question. “…Yes. And stealing is bad.”

              His grandson decides it’s time for a different topic. “Will you tell us the story about you and Master Skuld and the giant trickster?”

              “You mean the Trickmaster.”

              “Yeah!”

              A hand raises. “What’s a Trickmaster?” questions Hermod.

              “Well it’s this really tall—”

              “Kids.” The interruption comes from the hall where Eraqus’s mother and two more women stand. “Vor, Baldr, your moms are here to pick you up.”

              “Aww!” the pair complain.

              Baldr protests, “But Master Brain was about to tell us about the Trickmaster!”

              “Yeah!” agrees Vor.

              “All you munchkins better listen to your mothers,” Grandpa warns them. “They’re doing their best to make sure you grow big and strong.”

              “Yes Master Brain,” they all drone, each of them having been taught to respect their elders. The unfortunate two scurry off to their mothers who say something before they come running back.

              “Thank you for talking to us.” Vor gives him a bow.

              Baldr follows her example. “Thank you, Master Brain.”

              “No problem.”

              As fantastic fables entertain those remaining, the toddlers are taken away, one by one, by parents until it’s just grandfather and grandson.

              “You got some exciting friends, kid,” Grandpa says, watching Eraqus return from bidding Urd goodbye.  

              “Yeah. They’re all really cool and they don’t treat me funny.”

              Grandpa nods, pushing himself off the floor. Eraqus can see something thrilling in those eyes. “That’s good. Now, you’ve got three seconds to run before I TICKLE YOU!”

              The boy takes off yelling with the man close behind. Shouting, a foreign phenomenon to the home, fills the silence while the pair rushes around in their game. Their antics lead them to Eraqus’s room where there’s running, roughhousing, mock sword fighting, and more fun than the kid has had since Grandpa’s last visit. This is his best friend who knows all his secrets because Eraqus isn’t afraid to tell him everything; even when he knows he’s done something wrong, he knows that Grandpa may scold him but will still be there to help him learn from his mistake. This is what every kid needs and this is the relationship he gets jealous of when he sees his friends with their parents: one full of respect, freedom, and love.

              “Dad.” Grandpa freezes, child above his head, looking to the doorway where his daughter looks on. “Don’t you have a meeting with the council?”

              Arms lower to drop the boy onto his bed. “Oh, right. Man, I forgot about that.”

              “I noticed,” she replies bluntly. “And Eraqus needs to work on his studies before he goes to bed.”

              Said child groans, tugging at Grandpa’s jacket, “Aww, do you have to go?”

              The woman opens her mouth to retort, but the man waves her off and she leaves them be. “Sorry kiddo. People are counting on me to make choices to take care of them. Plus, you heard your mom, you got studies to do.” Era gives a little pout and the man ruffles his grandson’s black hair. “Look, the next time I come visit, if your mom tells me you’ve been good, I’ll take you to see the citadel.”

              Oh he’s been dying to see that. “Where the keyblade warriors train?!”

              Grandpa grins. “That’s the one. But like I said, you gotta behave and do your studies like your mom asks.” A hand extends to the boy. “Deal?”

              The kid puts on a show of considering the offer but slaps his little hand into his elder’s. “Deal!”

              The stolen hat is taken, plopped back onto the owner’s head while they shake hands. “Alrighty then.” A warm, loving expression softens Brain’s smile. “You’re gonna be a great warrior someday, kid, better than me.”

              “You think so?”

              “‘Course I do. Always remember, may your heart be your guiding key.”

~~~~~

              Warm sunlight beats down on the bright world. Despite its dreary nature, the cemetery, too, is actually quite bright. The youth in white strides along the stone pathway, flowers in hand.

              Months ago, he stood in this very vicinity, in the deafening rain, trapped in a bubble of mourning. He cried and screamed and even blew up at the parents he’d never before disrespected. They didn’t understand; they still don’t but the whole thing has managed to blow over. Friends, acquaintances, and even his Master came with condolences, receiving a meager ‘thank you’ in return. Nothing made him feel better and he just couldn’t come to terms with the fact that such a powerful, legendary master—that his grandfather—was dead.

              And then he found the words carved into the headstone: “May your heart be your guiding key.”

              Even now, those words echo in Grandpa’s voice—the mantra he told the boy at least every time they parted ways. Those were his last words to Eraqus.

              Grandpa was the only person who seemed to understand and acknowledge his struggles. The pressure of nobility and responsibility often pressed down on Eraqus but somehow, his grandfather always gave him the support and courage he needed to endure those things. In the face of all his anxieties, it was always his grandfather reaching back to lead him through. Brain was everything Eraqus needed in his life. Even now, in death, he’s still managed to leave his grandson with the strength he needs to move forward.

              It’s because of these words that Eraqus became something his parents aren’t exactly proud of. He began shirking his studies and speaking his mind no matter the company—really the only thing that keeps them off his back is the fact that he’s still a pretty damn good student. Just because he’s happy doesn’t mean he can let his grandpa’s faith go to waste; he’s supposed to become a great warrior after all. But, following his grandfather’s words, Eraqus started becoming the person he wanted to be instead of the person he was expected to be.

              The boy sits down, resting the bouquet before the stone. From his pocket, he also presents a talisman—the mark of keyblade wielders, even those in training—which he finally earned today.

              “There’s so many things I want to tell you.” He expected the tears, but even so, he smiles. “But before I get to all that, I have to say thank you.” The sleeve of his haori drags across his face. “Thanks for guiding me, Grandpa.”

[thisnerdblog]

Omg I love Bixby! Could you please do a Drabble where bixby has a baby sister on the way and isn't very happy about it, but when she's born he loves her to pieces! Thank you

OMG! I’m sooo sorry about the delay on these guys. I got a few more on deck I’ll hopefully get out sometime this weekend🤞

Just like the last Bixby story, this one is def based on true events.

Also if nobody has picked up on the people I’ve named these Brucenat brats on, shame on you guys 😂

~*~

They had sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours and Bixby was starting to get board. Tony plucked the temperamental three-year-old from his perch climbing all over Fury, the old man him a grateful glance from his one good eye. Fury loved his not-by-blood-but-through-a-huge-messy-series-of-events-that-actually-cemented-their-relationship-as-family grandson, but the little Hulkling was starting to grate at his infinite patience.

Tony took the squirming kid and plopped him down on his lap, taking the StarkPad Pepper handed to him and booting it up. The boys wriggling knees, that came dangerously close to popping him in the grapes, relaxed as a brightly colored YouTube video started to play. Tony had no idea what the kid found, something to do with a puppy sock puppet slowly mushing brightly colored cupcakes with its face, kids tended to find the weirdest corners of youtube. Tony couldn’t tell if it was some sort of kink thing or not and decided to redirect Bixby to some tamer Sesame Street.

Bixby whined, high and annoying, the sort of thing three year olds do when they don’t get their way.

“Relax bud.” Tony popped his knee, bouncing the kid lightly, perhaps they should have left Bix home with Laura and the Barton Brood and he could see his new sibling after the wait. “It wont be too long now, you’ll have a new brother or sister to play with.”

Bixby collapsed in Tony’s arms sniffling crocodile tears.

Tony was just thinking of asking Barton if he had any sort snack on him in his daddy pack, but before he could open his mouth the creak and bang of a door echoed down the corridor followed by the fast squeak-squeak-squeak-squeak as sneakers power walked down sterile tile.

Bruce appeared in the waiting room doorway, glasses askew and his hand cradled close to his chest. There was a small awed smile creeping under the scruff of his jaw, his glassy eyes skipping around the room already planning to run back the way he came. Everyone held their breath as Bruce gathered his, Bixby straining in Tony’s arms reaching for his father.

Bruce’s awed smile grew until it was splitting his face, “It’s a girl.” He gasped before the room erupted in cheers. Tony popped to his feet with the others, tossing Bix into the air and cheering. They gathered around Bruce laughing and congratulating him, hugging and kissing his cheeks and slapping him on the back. Bixby was passed to his father, who gathered him close and pressed a kiss to his forehead. The boy wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck, tucking his head into his father’s chest. Tony noticed that there was a distinct pout on Bixby’s face, but he chalked it up to a missed nap time or too much noise.

Soon enough Bruce passed Bixby off to Clint and rushed back the way he had come, scrubs swishing and sneakers squeaking.

It was a time later, after a late lunch and many phone calls, the word was passed around that little girl banner would be in the nursery on display for everyone to see. Bruce was there behind the glass peering down at what Tony could only describe as a swaddled tomato with a soft pink cap pulled down over her ears. The little girl was chubby cheeked, round and as red as could be, her eyes were screwed shut and there was an expression of extreme annoyance on her chubby cheeks. Thick dark downy hair curled softly from under the cap and one thin chicken wing arm wiggling free of the blankets with the tinniest little fingers Tony had ever seen.

It was an amazing powerful sight, Tony thought, Bruce Banner, one of his closest friends, allowing his newest tomato faced child grasp tight to his large finger with her tiny little fist. Bruce looked so awed as he gazed down at his little child.

Peppers nail tapping on the glass broke Bruce from his trance, “What’s her name?” she called through the glass.

“Carter Lynn.” He says with a soft smile gaze going back to the baby.

Pepper and Laura ‘awwed’ on cue and Fury looked as closed to melting as Tony had ever seen him. Tony himself couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from his own face despite the ache that was starting to appear in his cheeks.

“Hold her up.” Clint said as he hefted Bixby to rest against the railing and his chest.

Carefully Bruce cradled little Carter and held her up to the glass for his friends, family and son to see.

Bixby peered close, nose pressed against the glass that separated him from his new sibling. His dark eyes studied her, his brows pulled close as Carter blinked lazily back.

“Look Bix,” Bruce said, his voice muffled through the glass. “It’s your new sister, Carter.” He waved her little fist.

Bixby pushed off the railing and wailed huge tears burst from his eyes as he kicked and thrashed. Clint fumbled for a moment dropping the kid safely to the floor and stared down at him as Bixby had a complete melt down. He rolled and kicked and thrashed, beating his fist on the ground. People stared as they passed the group surrounding the crying toddler and Bruce tried to look from the other side of the glass, Carter held close to his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Buddy!” Tony dropped to a crouch, knees cracking, reaching out to try and still the flailing fists. “What happened?”

Bixby glared up at Tony, eyes red and puffy, a snot and drool combo string dripped onto the carpet, his square little baby teeth shining bright in his red face.

“I don’t want that one!” he wailed, his chest hitching as he sobbed. “I want the one in the blue hat!”

It took everything Tony had in him not to keel over with the kid and start his own hysterics.

The room was quiet when they entered, Bruce opening the door and ushering them in, reaching down to take Bixby’s hand and lead him to the bed bathed in late afternoon sunlight.

Bixby was doing better, much more calm than he had been an hour or so ago. Tony and Pepper had scooped the boy up and bought him an ice cream, which he ate half of before falling asleep mid bite. Tony watched as Natasha reached for her son, cradling her daughter on her chest. She looked tired but happy, and judging by the size of her new little tomato, Tony couldn’t blame her. Out of the blankets and soaking up her mother’s warmth, legs frog splayed and sleeping, she was plump, chunky and round. a perfect little tomato. Tony quite liked the little nickname he decided with a soft smile, slipping his hand into Pepper’s.

Bixby clambered up Natasha’s hospital bed, crawling up to her side.

“Careful there Bix.” Bruce reached out guiding Bixby to a safe spot on the bed. “Momma is tender right now.”

“To say the least.” Natasha mumbled, still riding the cocktail of painkillers. “Do you know who this is?”

Bix shrugged cuddling close, “Baby Carter.”

She hummed, nodding softly. “And you know she’s your little sister, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That means you’re her big brother, and she’s going to look up to you and it’s your job to be a good influence on her and to show her how to have fun, right?” Bruce asked, crouching down to be level with his family.

“I guess.”

“Do you want to hold her?” Natasha asked

“Ok.” Bixby didn’t sound sure.

Natasha nudged Bixby to lean against her shoulder with her arm around him as Bruce carefully places Carter in his lap.

“Use this hand to hold her head.” She instructed beaming down at her children.

“What do you think, Bixy-Boy?” Tony said creeping closer, leaning down to twiddle the baby’s soft cheek. “Think you can keep her?”

“I guess,” He said, touching her face and poking gently at her soft belly. Carter coos softly in her sleep wobbling her head into Bixby’s stomach. He smiled up at the grownups hugging Carter to him. “She can stay.”