Chapter Text
Bruce snapped the lid closed on his last bit of research and passed it over to Clint for him to put a label on. Over the past two days they had been slowly packing up Bruce’s research together.
Clint skipped to the door, loaded down with a backpack full of books. They had been hanging around the campus early, eating breakfast together and going to visit the pond before starting the laborious task of packing Bruce’s notes and papers.
“Can you go stack this one outside the door?” Bruce asked. Clint nodded, grabbed the box and dashed for the door. The swinging door slammed open and swung closed. Bruce sighed when he heard a crash down the hall, and jogged after his wayward charge. He hoped the boy hadn’t run into the wall again.
He had thought Clint just fell but when he turned the corner he saw a man stumbling to his feet beside Clint. The blonde was shaking, climbing to his feet and trying to shuffle the box full of papers back together.
“What are you doing?” one of the vice-chancellor’s of MIT growled, helping the man that had been on the floor dust off.
“I’m sorry, Vice-Chancellor Hasting,” Bruce said, coming to a stop in front of Clint. “He’s my assistant today, running my stuff to the door for the Sandia trip.”
The mention of the Sandia Lab took the sour look off the man’s face, Sandia was handing over a lot of money for Bruce’s research and time, which generated revenue and notoriety for the university.
“Well, keep the kid from running around like a crazed....”
“It’s all right, boys will be boys and all that,” the dark haired man that had been knocked down in the first place said with a wide grin. “You all right, kid?”
Clint was still frozen behind him but the boy quietly answered, “Yeah... Sorry.”
“All… right, then... Kids are weird.” The man had obviously expected more out of Clint.
He turned to Bruce. “Tony. Tony Stark. And I didn’t mean to say that in a “James. James Bond” sort of way. You were… in the lab a while back? What are the odds? Working on anti-electron collision still?” The younger man’s sunglasses slid to the end of his nose and he ran his eyes across Bruce and the silent statue behind him.
Bruce held out his hand, remembering the loud man from the math lab. “I can run the numbers on the odds for you. And I am still working on anti-electron collision. Dr. Bruce Banner, physics department.”
Tony nodded. “Interesting. Send me something when you’re done.”
Tony’s hand waved out, pointing down the hallway. “This way, Hastings? This way looks interesting! How much longer are you supposed to keep me “occupied” until the board is ready? This is why I don’t show up to things on time. I have an appointment with a couple of ski bunnies in the Poconos and…”
Tony strode away, Hastings struggling to keep up.
“And he thinks I’m weird?” Clint whispered.
~*~
At the dentist the next day Clint had more fillings put in. They had steadily given him more fillings until his teeth were starting to normalize from years of non treatment.
“I still need you to stop chewing on the inside of your lips and cheeks. If you go any deeper Clint, you’ll need stitches.” The boy nodded, trying to keep from pulling his cheek between his teeth again. The dentist was hovering right over his head and the only reasons he was still in the chair was Bruce’s hand on his ankle.
Clint rinsed and spit, idly rubbing his new teeth with the tip of his tongue.
~*~
Bruce admitted that he was using Clint to pack up for their trip, using his remarkable memory anyway. Clint remembered where things were with a frightening accuracy.
Bruce knew that Clint could find anything in the fridge simply from memory, and Bruce, the forgetful professor, only had to ask, “Where is the lemon juice?” for Clint to answer, “Second shelf, left side, behind the orange juice. Green bottle.” He was putting that to use in packing his things. Clint was a nosey little booger and he’d looked through most of Bruce’s things over the past few months, enough that when Bruce asked if Clint had seen his leather gloves, Clint had known where they were, even if it was on the top shelf of the coat closet, a place he had never had cause to go.
“My sandals?”
Clint dove into his closet and came out with one sandal and then underneath the bed to come up with the second.
“If you knew those were separated why didn’t you put them together?” Bruce wondered, stuffing them in his bag.
“Thought that’s where you wanted them,” Clint answered, sitting on Bruce’s bed.
Bruce smirked. “I probably wouldn’t have found them anyway.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Clint agreed.
“Very funny, Sprocket,” Bruce laughed. “My green button up shirt? I swore it was hung up yesterday.”
“It’s kind of ugly… you sure you want it?” Clint asked with a little smile.
Bruce held back the urge to cuff Clint around the head, and instead stuck his tongue out at the boy and pointed towards the closet.
~*~
Bruce was never happier to get on the road as he was at that moment. Clint had been excited to get going and Bruce was happy to finally be doing some serious research in New Mexico.
He had packed Clint’s clothes, Nerf gun, and school work. He actually was pretty excited himself, it felt a bit like taking a family vacation. They hadn’t managed to find the time yet but now they were flying across the country for a six week trip, if things went according to plan.
Bruce had arranged for Clint to stay in the day-care provided while Bruce was working. While Clint was technically old enough to stay by himself it made his adoptive father way too nervous. Instead he signed Clint up at New Mexico University’s day care center. His laboratory had sent him up with a small apartment at NMU and he was afforded all the accommodation of a student at NMU. It was the Sandia National Laboratory and Bruce finally had a chance to test some non-nuclear aspects of his research.
The plane tickets were bought and Clint was excited and painfully nervous. The boy had been being prepped through social stories and exposure to handle the crowds of the airport and the crush of people in the airplane. He had managed to get an early boarding pass for them and they were almost ready to go. He struggled to snap the bag closed over it s bulging contents.
He looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Clint? You have your carry-on packed?”
The boy nodded, bringing his heavy backpack out and carefully unpacking it. He was kind of stunned how much the boy had managed to get into the bag. “I have my toothbrush and an extra set of clothes. My blanket, my coloring book, my purple socks, and my journal are all in here. So is my puzzle book.”
Recently Clint had gotten into mind puzzles, like Sudoku and word jumbles, anything that took a bit of thinking to figure out. Clint was also into tangrams and liked to make pictures. He was thrilled his kid was cheap to entertain.
He carefully repacked everything, Bruce was mystified how one little kid managed to get all that into one bag. Without prompt the little boy opened Bruce’s bag and repacked it. Bruce gave Clint a suspicious smile as the bag easily closed.
“You’re sneaky.”
Clint shrugged, “Years of packing my stuff.”
Bruce looked around his apartment one more time, they’d be back in a few weeks but he was nervous about leaving not only his comfort zone but Clint’s. He had traveled all over the world but not being near Clint’s doctor, therapist, and social worker made him anxious.
“Okay, our bags are by the door. Dishes are done. Garbage is out. Plants are on loan. We ready?”
“Yeah!” Clint said with a giant grin. He heard a faint honk and knew their car was here to take them to the airport. Clint grabbed his huge purple duffle, now tied with a giant silver bow, and started to drag it down the hall. Bruce picked up his own bright green bag and locked up the apartment.