Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs. Anything you recognize as not mine belongs to Marvel Studios, Disney, Warner Bros. Entertainment, and/or their otherwise respective owners.

Author's Notes: Hi, guys! I told y'all I would get this one out fairly quickly, too. Might be the last one for a little while. I'm gonna get this story finished before the New Year, just need to get back to my WIPs shortly lol. And ofc I have college, too. :P

Chapter title comes from Coming of Age by Foster the People. Holy shit, when I tell you guys it popped up on my tailored radio station, I was like "yep, this is definitely the chapter title for this one." I have yet to hear another song that perfectly encapsulates being a teenager, and I listen to a lot of music.

Slight CW for some omegaverse medical stuff. Tried to keep it as brief as possible, but it had to be done.

Anyways, hope you enjoy,

~TGWSI/Selene Borealis

~the black and gold 'verse~

~black and gold~

~chapter 6: coming of age~

A shaking of his shoulder woke him up. "Wha'?" he slurred.

"Tony."

"Mm, Bruce," he mumbled, sleepily rubbing at his eyes. "Are you wanting another round? Can it wait?"

"Tony."

Blearily, he opened his eyes and looked at his nightstand. "'S three o'clock in the morning," he complained, his eyelids drifting back down. "Come on, I have work in five hours."

"Tony, it's Dick."

Instantly, he was wide awake.

Tony sat up in bed, the covers pooling around his waist. Bruce was sitting up, too, his pupils blown in the dark. "What's going on?" he breathed. "What's wrong with Dick?"

"Master Grayson's first heat started, sir."

He nearly jumped out of his skin, slamming an arm around his chest despite the fact the darkness made it hard to make anything out. "Alfred!" he protested, scandalized. Then the weight of the man's statement caught up to him. "Wait, what? That's not possible!"

Tony knew for a fact that omegas could have their first heats, in which they presented, any time between their twelfth to sixteenth birthdays – after that, too, although people who had not presented by that age were declared deltas until they did, the sterile designation. He knew that most omegas had signs of what their presentation was going to be before then, like with Dick. He himself hadn't; he hadn't been kidding when he'd told the kid he'd had no idea he was going to be an omega until it'd happened.

But he also knew, because of that, what Alfred was saying shouldn't be possible. Omegas didn't present before their twelfth birthdays. They just didn't. Sometimes, very rarely, betas did, and this was called precocious presentation. But omegas (alphas and thetas, too) did not, and nobody really knew why.

And Dick wasn't twelve years old yet. It was March 14th, a week exactly before his twelfth birthday. He was still eleven.

What Alfred was saying didn't make sense.

"We know," said Bruce. "But, Omega – "

He was cut off by the sound of high-pitched whimpering coming from the hallway. The sound of keening. The sound of an omega in heat.

Tony swallowed. "It's happening anyways."

"Yeah."

This was so inopportune. Not the fact that Dick was presenting – Lord knew there was nothing inopportune about that – but...the timing. It was March 14th. The second to last day of Bruce's rut.

Because Bruce was still very much in rut. The heady scent of his pheromones was in the air, and Tony grimaced, smelling it. His nose wrinkled, indecision weighing on his soul.

"Alpha..." he began.

"Go take care of him," his alpha said immediately. "I'll be fine."

He hesitated. "Bruce – "

"Go," repeated the man. It was not an order, never an order coming from him, but it might as well have been one. "I'll be fine. I had twelve ruts before we got married, Omega. I know what to do."

Not needing any further words of permission, Tony darted out of the bed.

He went to the bathroom first, turning on the shower. In order to do this, he needed to be as clean as possible. He couldn't smell like Bruce, because although Bruce was Dick's father in all but blood, his family, he was an alpha. The scents of alphas in ruts always made unmated omegas territorial.

Their fellow omegas, on the other hand, mated or not, in heat or not, not so much.

He scrubbed himself thoroughly, using his softly-scented shampoo and conditioner, the scent-neutralizing body wash he'd been using before work the past couple of weeks while Bruce was in rut. This was followed by his regular body wash, one smelling of vanilla and honey. No harsher scents were used: everything had to be as gentle as possible, especially since presentation was when everyone, regardless of their designation, developed their heightened nose.

Clothes were waiting for him on the closed toilet seat after he was done, as well as a clean towel on the towel rack; both had been placed there by Alfred. He quickly dried himself off, running the towel through his hair, before he put on the clothes: a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, made of the softest material.

But he wasn't done yet. Opening up the cupboards beneath the sink, he pulled out a variety of things: sanitary pads with wings, baby wipes, ibuprofen, water bottles, and a queen bed-sized heating pad carefully folded up. They were all items he had gotten for himself over the years, learning how his heats worked and what he needed for them. Or so when he hadn't actively been trying to get rid of them or not having them due to being pregnant or breastfeeding, anyways.

"Got everything?" Bruce asked him as he exited the bathroom, voice laced with amusement.

"I think so." He adjusted his hold on the different objects in his arms. "I'd kiss you, but, well – "

"That'd undo everything you just did," Bruce agreed. "Maybe I'll be able to help in a few days."

"Maybe," Tony echoed.

The scent hit him as he was about halfway down the hall. It was syrupy, and sweet, not quite unlike his own. Or his mother's. The thought took him back some, the memory of how his first heat had gone nudging at his mind. He remembered how his mother had ran her fingers through his hair after Jarvis had come to wake him up and realized what was going on as he'd sobbed, how she'd whispered to him that it was going to be alright.

But then, once giving him ibuprofen and a heating compress, she'd left.

He was not going to be like that. He didn't care one bit about what society said, how heats were supposed to be a solitary thing with little input even from one's family until they were married or bonded. Fuck it, because that was the same society which had allowed him to be sold off to Bruce, regardless of how good it was for both of them or not.

He was going to help Dick with his heat, because he was his son, in every way which counted.

"Master Stark is here," Alfred informed Dick as Tony entered the room, squeezing his hand from where he was sitting in the armchair next to the bed gently. "Everything's going to be alright, Master Grayson."

Tony heard a sniffle. He watched as Dick slowly, painfully, rolled over, letting go of Alfred's hand, his eyes wide and watery and weepy. "O – Omi?"

His heart melted. Broke into a million pieces.

"Hey, bambino," he whispered, inching closer. He put everything except for the heating pad on the nightstand, handing Alfred the giant piece of fabric over the bed. The beta understood his intention immediately, beginning to unfold it and shake it out, and for that he was grateful. Tony cupped one of Dick's cheeks in his hands, noting how he was hot and feverish to the touch. "How are you feeling?"

"B – bad," Dick hiccoughed. "It hurts, Omi!"

His vision blurred with tears. "I know, baby, I know."

"'S not s'posed to be this early," the kid wept. "'M not – 'm not even twelve!"

"Hey, it happened, it's here, we're going to deal with it." He and Alfred shared a look. "Is it okay if I pick you up, bambino? Alfred's gonna put something on the bed that I think'll help."

All too willingly, Dick wrapped his arms around his neck. Placing one arm beneath his legs and the other on his back, Tony picked him up, allowing the younger omega to burrow his face into his neck. Moving swiftly, Alfred rolled the heating pad over the bed, making sure to pick up the pillows to place it under them. He plugged it in and turned it on to the second setting. "Will that be all, Master Stark?"

"Yeah. Make sure to close the door behind you. Thank you, Alfred."

"Of course."

Depositing Dick back on the bed, he twisted open one of the water bottles and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen. "These won't do anything except for your cramps, but they'll help with them." He shook two pills out onto the palm of his hand. "Small sips."

Dick drank reluctantly, swallowing the pills.

"Alright." Tony selected the pads next, as well as a clean pair of underwear Alfred had seemingly set on the nightstand, too. For a moment, he was grateful: he'd decided to switch Dick to omega underwear back when everything had come out, wanting him to get some time getting used to them before his first heat came. It seemed his early thinking had paid off. "I'm going to change your underwear. Is that okay?"

Wearily, Dick nodded. "Yeah."

He rolled off the boy's pants and underwear, momentarily setting the former aside and throwing the latter towards the hamper. Sticking the pad onto the clean pair of underwear, he slid them on and pulled them up, and put Dick's pants back on. His efforts earned a sigh, not of contentment, but at least acceptance.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Uh huh," Dick answered tiredly. "Don' go."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. Laying down on the bed, he pulled the covers up over both of them, to which Dick snuggled into his side. "I'm here for you, kiddo."

"Thanks." Dick's voice was muffled. "Love you, Omi."

Tony kissed his hair. "Love you too, kid."

That first day was...awful.

Dick woke up from a fitful and unforgiving sleep at around eight o'clock, when Tony would have otherwise been going to work, if not for the obvious. His whimpering drew the older omega awake, forcing him to blink the sleep from his eyes. "You need more ibuprofen?"

Unable to vocalize, he felt Dick nod into his shoulder.

Tony had him take two more pills. He carried him to the ensuite bathroom of the bedroom, letting Dick pee. This was when the baby wipes were used to clean up the dried slick which made his thighs stick together, and he taught Dick how to put a pad on properly. The kid, drawn back and reserved, looked at the offending sanitary item dejectedly. "'Feels like a diaper."

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "They do suck like that."

Bringing Dick back into his room, he tucked them into the bed. Around nine, Alfred came in with a tray for breakfast. There wasn't anything heavy, merely some eggs and turkey sausage for the protein, toast, fresh fruit, and orange juice.

"Ms. Potts has cleared your schedule for the rest of the week, Master Stark, and asked I tell Master Grayson that she hopes he feels better," Alfred said.

"Tell her my thanks," replied Tony.

It was a chore to get Dick to eat anything. Tony wound up gaining a new appreciation for Bruce because of it: he'd never realized how hard it was to get himself to eat anything besides lackluster nibbles when he was in heat.

"Please, baby," he tried. "You're burning up. You gotta eat something."

In the end, he was able to get Dick to eat a piece of toast, half of an egg, two sausage links, and a glass of orange juice.

Half an hour later, he was puking it all back up.

"'M sorry," he sobbed as he leaned over the toilet, in between bouts of heaving. "'M sorry, 'm sorry, 'm – !"

"It's okay," Tony whispered. "Just let it out."

Dick had started throwing up before he'd gotten him in front of the toilet, so sick was covering his front. Tony grimaced again. "We're going to need to change your clothes," he said, to which Dick whined. "I know, you don't want to do it. Maybe I could help you take a bath? Would you be up for that?"

The kid thought about it. "Uh huh."

He drew up the bath, and waited until it was mostly full to help Dick undress and get into the tub. Dick relaxed some, his muscles loosening from their tightness, and he took this as sign he did the right thing.

"I'm going to get some clothes for you to change into. I'll be right back."

He helped Dick wash himself, shampooing his hair and using a washcloth for the body wash – a loofah was out of the question. He dried him off with a towel and got him into the new set of clothes, then led him back into his bedroom.

Dick fell back asleep shortly after noon.

Tony waited until he was off into deeper sleep to get out of the bed. He crept out of the room, quietly closing the door shut behind him.

Downstairs, Bruce, Alfred, and Barnes were all standing in the kitchen. This time, Tony ignored the female alpha, getting the cold brew coffee out of the fridge and pouring himself a glass. He added a hefty amount of milk to it, stirring, and downed about a quarter of the drink in one go.

"O – Tony?" Bruce prodded. "How is he?"

"How do you think?" he retorted. He ran a hand over his face. "It's bad. He threw up breakfast."

"Do you think we should take him to the doctor?" inquired Alfred.

To Tony's surprise, before he could answer him, Barnes did. "No," she said. Her tone contained no room for argument. "If it gets severe enough, a doctor will be willing to make a house call here. But unless it's life or death, he shouldn't be moved."

Tony raised his glass. "What she said." It felt strange for him to agree with Barnes. He wasn't sure if he liked it. "First heats are always rough, Alfred. It's a fact of life."

The man frowned. "But Master Grayson's presentation..."

"Early, we know," he sighed. "But there's nothing we or a doctor will be able to do about that, now that it's come. And any doctor will want to wait to address that problem until after his heat is over."

The second day was reasonably better. It was Bruce's last day of rut, so he still couldn't enter the room, but Dick was able to eat some. He slept for most of the day, curled into Tony's side, and he kept on absentmindedly stroking the boy's hair as he did his work on his laptop. Obadiah gave him a frankly horrifying email disguised as well-wishes for missing work, however he didn't let it bother him. He refused to give a shit.

Then the third day came.

Tony woke up to dawn filtering in through the window, because he was too hot not to notice it. The heating pad had been on almost continuously from the moment Alfred had placed it on the bed, and there was the comforter over him and Dick. Between the two of them, he was sweltering, and he'd never liked sleeping that way.

Grunting, he opened his eyes and put on his glasses.

Dick was still sleeping next to him, snoring softly. It was almost cute.

Except, as Tony's brain remembered as it came back online from his rest, Dick never snored.

Cursing under his breath, he felt the boy's forehead. It was hot to the touch, hotter than it should've been. "Fuck," he spoke, louder than before. "Fuck!"

He scrambled out of bed.

The thermometer was in the bathroom, why he didn't know. Regardless of why it had been left there, he gently pushed it into Dick's mouth.

When it beeped at 103 Fahrenheit, he started cussing a lot more.

"Dick, baby, come on." He patted the kid's cheek to go along with his statement. "You've gotta wake up."

"Mmm," was the only response he got.

"Dickie, please. Wake up."

Nothing.

The doctor came an hour later. Bruce was sitting in the armchair, his head in his hands, while Tony hovered over their older adoptive son protectively. "I need to perform a physical examination, Dr. Stark," the doctor said. "I'm not going to hurt him."

Tony sneered. "No, you're not." Because the second you do, I'll ruin you.

He allowed the doctor – a beta, but that didn't mean he trusted him, because he knew from experience the second you became an omega was the second the world became a dangerous place – to perform the exam, which was only an external one, clenching the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Afterwards, the doctor tutted. "I don't see anything wrong externally. An internal exam could be beneficial, but that can wait until after he's through heat," he hurried to correct himself, seeing Tony's glare and the curling of his top lip. "I think he's simply too dehydrated. I can set up an IV line, if you would like."

"What about the timing of his heat?" Bruce demanded.

"Technically, it's not precocious presentation, because it happened within a week of his birthday," the doctor replied thoughtfully. "I can't say I've ever seen an omega presenting prior to their twelfth birthday before, but..."

Tony finished his train of thought. "You're not worried about it?"

The doctor shook his head. "I don't think so. I did read an article recently about some omegas presenting slightly early than their twelfth birthdays, and so far no causes have been detected. The stress he's experienced recently and Mr. Wayne's rut probably contributed to this."

Well. That was a relief.

The doctor did put in an IV, which was not easy to do because of how dehydrated Dick was. Slowly, over the course of the rest of the morning, his fever lowered to a more manageable temperature. He also stopped snoring.

In the late hours of the afternoon, there was a knock at the door. Tony inhaled sharply, knowing who it was. Who it had to be. "Come in."

Barnes was holding a teapot and a teacup in her hands. "He's going to wake up soon," she explained. "This'll help him, I think."

His nose twitched. "What is it?"

"Tea," she stated. She placed both pot and cup on the nightstand, before moving away. "Sarah Rogers' recipe."

Tony's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"The doctors said Stevie was never going to present. Sarah never quite believed it. She was one of the only two people who wasn't surprised when he did at fourteen. I was the other one," she said carefully. "But Steve's heats were always bad, because of how sickly he was. So Sarah made him a tea to help with his symptoms, and it did. She was nice like that. You would've never known she was a beta from the things she did for Steve in the two years before she died."

Tony gawked at her. She'd never talked about Steve Rogers until now. "You remember him?"

Her nostrils flared. "He was my mate, how could I not? My everything." She looked away from him, casting her gaze downwards. "The scientists electrocuted me each time they put me back under. To make me forget him. Torture me, too, but mostly forget. I never could for long. I promised I would protect him, but I didn't. And now he's gone."

Dick mewled then, squirming.

"I'll leave now," Barnes offered, doing just that.

"Omi?" Dick said not a moment later.

Tony smiled. "Hi, baby. You want something to drink?"

Dick's heat ended on the fifth day.

The doctor kept the IV in and him on bedrest for another day, and said he wasn't supposed to go back to school until Thursday. Tony and Bruce were fine with that. They wanted to cuddle with the kid for a while longer.

"Really, I'm fine, Tony, Bruce," Dick protested. He was mostly back to his usual self, even with his pale and drawn face. He was also back to calling Tony by his name.

Tony didn't let it bother him. He was glad Dick saw him that way, happy beyond belief, but Dick wouldn't be Dick if he called him the title all the time. Not if he felt like he was obligated to.

Thursday, Dick went back to school, and he went back to work. He sat down at his desk in his office, relishing in sitting in a place that was much quieter when compared to his house with his five children. He did his office work, went to the backlog of meetings he'd built up, checked in with R&D, did his lab work. Thursday and Friday both, he did this.

The entire time, his mind kept on drifting to...other things.

Saturday morning, he made his decision. He woke up, stretched, did his morning routine, started on breakfast for the kids. It was as he was flipping some eggs in the pan, Dick and Jason chatting at the breakfast table, he heard his husband come downstairs.

Without even looking up, he said, "Bruce?"

He heard the other man stop short. "Yes, dear?"

"Can you get Barnes and bring her down here, please?"

Dick and Jason stopped talking.

Bruce hesitated. "Pardon?"

"You heard me."

There were was some more hesitation, but then Bruce acquiesced, lumbering off.

A few minutes later, he heard the sound of footsteps. "Barnes," he spoke. "Good morning."

He almost laughed at the expressions on his family's visages. Bruce was tense, Dick and Jason terrified, Lili and Harley oblivious to what was going on. The only person who was calm was Alfred, who was drinking his morning tea and giving him a raised eyebrow.

"Dr. Stark."

Tony elected to put them all out of their misery. "I want you to train Dick in self-defense."

There was silence.

Then:

"What? No way!" Jason shouted. He kicked back away from the table, nearly tipping over his chair. He was only saved by Alfred, who acted in quick enough time. "You're really gonna let her do it?"

"Really?" whispered Dick, astonished. "Really, Tony?"

"Yep." He slid the rest of the eggs onto a plate, placing the pan on an off burner so it didn't cause a fire. "I think it'll be good for you, bambino. I know things are going to be better for you now at your school," because I've made sure they will be better, "but I'd like for you to be able to protect yourself, just in case. And Bruce is...well, he's busy, and I...trust Barnes. For this."

In an instant, Dick had jumped away from the table and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Thank you, Tony!" he exclaimed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I do have stipulations," he warned. "You have to complete your homework before you can train. You can only train in the gym, not outside, in the living room, or anywhere else. And Bruce, Alfred, or I have to be supervising. You can't train without one of us present."

"I don't care!" Dick squealed. "Thank you!"

Tony watched Barnes' reaction. For the first time around him, her face opened up, like a flower blooming. It was a...beautiful sight. Years were shed off her face, making her look closer to the pictures he'd seen of her during the war. Back when she'd only been Bucky Barnes, the wife of Steve Rogers, who had grown up with him in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. Not the Winter Soldier, the woman who had killed his parents.

"Can we train now? Please, Bucky? Please, Bruce?" Dick begged, pleading with doe eyes and all. He knew how to get his way, having finessed it over years' worth of experience.

"Let Bruce eat breakfast, then you can," Tony compromised, cutting off Bruce before he could speak.

At the end of the meal, Jason and Dick ran out of the kitchen, Bruce and Barnes trailing after them. The super soldier had eaten breakfast with them, the first meal they'd ever shared. Tony felt uncomfortable the entire time, however he swallowed it down.

In their wake, as he cleaned Harley's face off with a wet paper towel, he closed his eyes. "Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Stark?"

"Do you think I did the right thing?"

The beta didn't immediately answer him. "Letting Ms. Barnes train Master Grayson?" he guessed.

Tony chuckled weakly. "You know it."

He didn't know if he had. The decision didn't feel right.

It didn't feel wrong, either.

Alfred hummed. "I think you did the right thing, considering the circumstances."

As Harley fussed, Tony picked him up and bounced him on his hip. "I'm letting the woman who murdered my parents train my son in self-defense." He sniffed, having to wipe at his eyes with his free hand as tears rose up. Lili frowned, asking him what was wrong, but he merely petted her hair. "I don't know how my mamma would be able to forgive me for doing this. She hasn't even been dead for four months, and here I am – "

In disgust, he snorted at himself.

Alfred folded the morning newspaper, from which he'd been doing the daily crossword. "You know she isn't the one to blame for that."

"Obviously." He grabbed the teething toy for Harley, putting it in his mouth as he began to cry. His son began to settle down, chewing on it. "I just – "

"You're putting your own problems aside in order to give Master Grayson a better future, I believe your mother would understand that. She would understand wanting to do the best for him."

Tony wasn't so sure.

He knew his mother had loved him. He'd been her only child, her pride and joy, her light in the darkness of a high-class society that was as unkind to its female omegas as its male ones, just in different ways. But she'd also kept her distance until he'd gotten married and pregnant with Lili, losing herself in her Xanax and sometimes alcohol instead of taking care of him or paying attention to him like he did his own children. She'd left him to nannies, to Jarvis and Ana. She hadn't stood up for him with Howard whenever they fought, either with words or rare blows in his sire's case, or tried to prevent him from being married off at seventeen years old. Perhaps that was simply because she hadn't had a choice, as Howard would have retaliated if she'd tried.

But he couldn't imagine doing the same in her position. He would fight tooth and nail, with skin and blood, with his entire soul, before he would let Dick be forced into the same position he'd been in. Or any of his and Bruce's other children, if they presented as omegas.

"Maybe," he conceded.

Alfred went with a different tactic. "Mrs. Jarvis would understand, I think."

Of that, Tony had no doubt. Ana had raised him. She'd been the mother he'd never had. So understanding, too. Despite the fact Barnes had killed her, he knew if she hadn't and Ana was still alive, she would have forgiven the alpha in a heartbeat. If nothing else, she would've been more understanding than him, and supported him in his decision to have Barnes train Dick wholeheartedly.

Maybe that fact would be enough.

He started carrying off Harley to the living room. "Do you mind watching the little ones for ten or so minutes, Alfred? I want to go check on them in the gym."

"It would be my pleasure."

In the gym, Dick, Jason, and Barnes were standing on the mats once more. Bruce was sitting in a chair which looked like it'd been rolled out from Tony's lab at their home, and the omega rolled his eyes at it, but said nothing.

Dick was standing in the basic fighting posture, like he had been the first time. Barnes was adjusting his stance, murmuring things Tony couldn't precisely make out, but what sounded like instructions. Her tenor was gentle, praising.

"How's it going?" he called out.

Dick beamed at him. "Great!"

Jason jerked his head enthusiastically, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Dick's really, really good! Естественный."

"Well, don't let me take away from your training. Keep at it," he encouraged.

Tony went over to Bruce. The older man grabbed his wrist, brushing his lips on the top of his hand. "Have I ever told you how amazing you are?" he murmured.

"From time to time," he was told by Tony. "This'll be good for him?"

"Definitely."

"And you're not mad I wanted Barnes to train him instead of you?"

"No. Why would I be?"

Tony stepped behind the chair, linking his arms over Bruce's shoulders. Their faces were almost side by side as Barnes began to show Dick how to clench his hand into a fist correctly and make a punch. "I don't know, I worry. There's been a lot of change for us in the past several months."

"You're doing fine, Tony."

Hearing words of encouragement from the second person in a row was comforting. He exhaled softly. He was thinking maybe tonight, after the kids had been put to bed, they could –

"Tony, Tony! Your turn!"

He blinked. "Uh, what?"

Jason was pulling him by the arm, leading him towards the mats. "You should learn self-defense, too."

"Oh, no. No, I shouldn't. Who gave you that idea?"

The younger boy was stubborn. "You're an omega, too! You should know this stuff!"

He protested this. "I'm the CEO of the largest government contracting company in the entire world. My face is probably almost as recognizable as the Queen's because of me being the first omega CEO. Nobody is ever going to try and hurt me."

(You know that's a lie.)

"Please, Tony!" said Jason.

"Yeah, please, Tony!" added Dick.

They were both giving him those begging eyes again.

He felt his resolve begin to crack. "Bruce," he attempted.

But his husband only smirked. "They're probably right, Tony. Besides, it couldn't hurt," he said, standing up. "I'll go upstairs and watch Lili, Harley, and Peter until you're done."

"Traitor!" Tony mouthed at him.

Bruce winked in reply.

Oh, he was so paying for that later.

But as for right now...

Swallowing back his discomfort, he faced Barnes. He could do this, if only in order to humor the kids. "So, what do I need to do?"

Jason whooped in joy.

Barnes, meanwhile, did not approach or touch him like she had with Dick. "Bend your knees slightly," she instructed. When he did as told, she gave him her approval. "Now clench your hands into fists, like this." She demonstrated. He did. "Yes. Hold them in front of you. There are probably...better positions, but we'll be learning this one first. I presume Howard taught you what to do when somebody does try to hurt you?"

Tony stared at her. "What do you think?"

He didn't particularly feel like saying in front of the children that Howard had literally sold him off to the first person who bought him, so he kept it at that.

He thought she got the hint. "I suppose not. Do you know what to do, anyways?"

He lifted, then lowered his shoulders. "Whatever it takes. Kick them in the nuts." At this, Dick and Jason snickered. "Gouge out their eyes. Use the pepper spray that Pepper insisted I carry in my satchel. Again, I don't think anybody's going to be trying to hurt me, though. Not like that."

Barnes pursed her lips. "It's a start. Stevie didn't really know how to fight when he started, either. He'd get into fights and get his lip busted, or something worse. Gave Sarah hell for it." She steadied herself. "Anyways, if you're ever in a situation where you have to defend yourself, you should try to avoid getting hit as much as possible. Focus on protecting yourself. But, if you do have to go on the offensive to stop the other person, there are some tricks you can do, like Tony said..."

. . .

By the time for lunch, Tony was able to throw a punch. It wasn't a very good one, in his opinion, definitely not one that would stop someone trying to kill him and/or kidnap him. Nor would it stop the shrapnel from a missile from entering his chest and racing towards his heart. Although the latter was ridiculously specific and pessimistic, and he chided himself for even thinking of such a thing.

But, as he headed back upstairs with Jason and Dick (Barnes chose to stay in the gym for a while longer, to which he was thankful. There was only so much of her he could handle at one time), he figured it was a start. A good one.

He definitely felt better about letting Dick train with the super soldier, too.

Word Count: 5,423

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