Chapter Text
Tony’s head, face and arm all ached, which is what yanked him out of the best sleep that he’d had in months. The pain was too much to ignore, not to mention that once his brain clicked into gear, there was too much that he needed to do. He opened his eyes slowly; he knew exactly where he was, though not his precise location, inside of Fury’s safe house. The bars not half a foot from his face suggested that someone, hopefully not Steve, had put him to bed.
He sat up, brushing a hand down the onesie he was wearing. He had on a diaper, too, and it was soiled in more than one way. Tony wrinkled his nose as he glanced down at his arm, which was set in a cast. For a few seconds, he let himself daydream about not forcing himself to be big, a world where he could just cry and his daddy would come rushing in to set everything right.
That wasn’t going to happen, though. The thought made him ache somewhere deep inside where medication couldn’t reach. Peter had made a mistake in bringing him here, but he couldn’t fault Peter for that. What else would you do with a hysterical Little? It was Tony’s fault for pushing aside his biological impulses for as long as he had. He should’ve figured out a way to set aside a few stolen moments here and there when Talbot wasn’t looking.
Now he’d gone and fallen over the breaking point, and those hours last night hadn’t been nearly long enough. Already he could feel his hold on his big side splintering, threatening to fall to fragments he couldn’t hold onto; he had to get out of here before he slipped again.
The crib was store bought and easy to manipulate once he worked a hand through the bars. The side fell and Tony slung his legs over, standing carefully. It felt like every muscle in his body protested the change in position at once and he winced. Apparently web slinging really did not agree with someone on the wrong side of forty.
There was a bathroom connected to the room. Tony slipped inside and rid himself of the diaper, tossing it in the garbage to be disposed of later and cleaning himself up. It was awkward with only one hand, and more than once he had to stop and bite the inside of his cheek until the threat of tears had passed. He could do this; he’d done it for years before the team walked into his life and he’d do it for years after.
He discarded the onesie for a pair of soft lounge pants that he found in the closet, and he was in the middle of pulling them on when the door opened and Steve poked his head in. They both froze. Tony’s heart started to race. There went his hopes of quietly slipping out of the house before anyone realized he was gone. He’d been so close.
“Tony?” Steve said finally. “I – you’re awake.”
That practically begged for a blank look accompanied by a succinct ‘duh’, but Tony was just… he was tired. He finished pulling the pants up. “I’m also leaving.”
“Leaving? Why?”
Tony shot him a look of pure disbelief. “Why? Why do you think?”
“But you’re hurt.”
“You didn’t care about that last time,” Tony said. Much to his surprise, Steve flinched.
“You’re also feeling very little,” he said.
“Don’t tell me how I’m feeling, Rogers.”
“Tony –”
“No. Just don’t,” Tony snapped, feeling the renewed sting of tears behind his eyes. He blinked furiously, refusing to give Steve the pleasure. “I really don’t think we have anything to say to each other right now, so I’m just going to leave and you – you do whatever the fuck you want. I’m taking a page out of your book. I don’t care.”
“I never stopped caring about you, Tony. But I know it seemed like it, and I’m sorry for that.”
For the second time, Tony froze. He’d never expected to actually hear those words out of the mouth of the great Captain America.
Steve seized his chance. “I think we both got carried away. You’re right. It wasn’t about the accords in the end, it was about protecting Bucky. And I – I didn’t tell you about your parents before because I wanted your help, and I thought you might not help if you knew, but that wasn’t my decision to make. It was yours.”
Tony stared at him. “Who told you to say that?”
“No one!” Steve protested. And then, when Tony just kept looking at him, sighed. “Fury and Coulson might have cornered me five or six or a dozen times and yelled at me for like six hours straight.”
“Good,” Tony muttered, though without heat. He wasn’t even angry anymore so much as he was tired. Tired of trying to protect everyone. Tired of always making the wrong decision. Tired of being left alone and behind. He turned away from Steve, holding his cast protectively against his chest.
“Tony.” Steve sounded anguished. “Baby –”
“Don’t call me that. You do not get to call me that,” Tony said. “I’m not…” And god, he couldn’t even bring himself to say it out loud. He didn’t even want to be Steve’s Little anymore... except that he did. He wanted it more than he could put into words. The conflicting emotions made his head hurt.
"I'm not good," he said quietly, looking down at the cast on his arm. "Nothing I do turns out the way I intend. I was trying to make things better with the accords. I wanted people to stop hunting us. I wanted to protect the team. Instead I ended up making everything worse." He squeezed his eyes shut, breath hitching on a sob. "Now everything has gone to shit, and I have nothing left. So I'm just going to leave before Bruce yells at me or Clint tries to put that arrow in my back."
"It wasn't all your fault, Tony."
"Oh, now you're interested in taking some of the blame? Because back there - back there, you said -" Tony had to pause just long enough to gulp "- you said you didn't tell me the truth about Barnes for my own good. That's bullshit. That's such bullshit and you know that, Steve, you didn't tell me and I had to find out by watching my m-" His voice cracked too much to continue.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry you found out that way. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry that I didn't sit down and talk with you for five fucking seconds," Steve said. "Because I don't think the accords were right, but I left you behind with Ross and Tony, jesus Tony, please can I hug you?"
Tony should say no. He knew that. Nothing was going to be fixed in the span of one conversation; the smart thing to do would be to decline the offer, finish getting dressed, and get out of this safe house as fast as humanly possible.
But if he did leave, nothing would ever be fixed. He could see the future, clear as day: he and Steve would remain at crossroads forever. Maybe in the future they would come to a kind of stiff acquaintance, especially if it was necessary for them to fight together, but that's it. And Tony didn't want that, either.
Most of all, he just didn't want to be hurt anymore.
"I'm tired of being hurt," Tony said. His voice was shaky. Too shaky. "I can't -"
Steve sighed. "I won't promise that, Tony."
It was honest, and that's why Tony turned around to look at him. "Then why should I stay? I am so fucking tired, Steve. I'm - I haven't let myself be little in months. I can't. I don't have anyone to trust. You're supposed to be my partner. My daddy."
"I am."
"Well you sure as hell haven't been acting like it. How do I know you won't run off again once Barnes is defrosted?"
Steve winced. "Because I missed you," he said softly, miserably.
And it was so fucking selfish, but also probably the most truthful thing that had ever come out of Steve's mouth. "You missed me," Tony repeated doubtfully. "Did you really, or did you just miss having a Little around?"
"There are a lot of Littles out there, but none of them are like you," Steve said, looking Tony in the eyes. Much to Tony's surprise, his blue eyes were bright with unshed tears. "There's no one like you, and I was stupid before. You shouldn't give me a second chance. I don't deserve it. But I wish you would. Please. I need you. The whole team needs you."
Tony tried to steel himself, but it worked about as well as trying to hold onto his big side. Like holding onto sand or sugar. "It can't just be okay," he said through a sob. "I can't trust you like I did before."
"I'll earn back your trust, I swear. And I'll never break it again. I was stupid and arrogant and I fucked up a lot of things," Steve said. He shook his head. "Next time, we'll work together."
He still had his arms open. Tony took a step forward, but paused. Part of him still wanted to just turn around and run, if only to protect himself. But at heart, he was still just a stupid, dumb kid who wanted his daddy. He took another step, and then another, tensing when Steve's big arms carefully wrapped around him.
The last time they'd touched, Steve had been bringing the shield down onto the armor.
Tony tried to hold it back, but he started to cry.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Tony," Steve kept saying, hugging him tightly. He was crying too, rocking Tony back and forth.
No one had ever hugged him like that before.
Tony never wanted it to end. But it did, when Steve's grip tightened just a little too much and put pressure on his arm. He squeaked in pain and Steve released him instantly, looking stricken, though he didn't go far; he left his hands on Tony's shoulders, as though afraid Tony might disappear if too much distance got between them.
"Are you okay? Is your arm hurting you? Should I call Bruce? Or Fury? I can get Coulson in here -"
"Rhodey," Tony said, his head spinning at the bout of questions. "I - and Peter? Please."
"Sure. Of course. There's, um..." Steve hesitated, which was so unlike him that Tony frowned. "The room is fully stocked. I made sure of that. And you seem little right now. I think - maybe you should put a diaper back on."
"Oh. Right." Tony's face got a little hot, the way it always did. He hated to admit that Steve was right. Between the emotional turmoil and general exhaustion, not to mention the pain in his head and arm, there was no way he'd be able to consciously focus on keeping control of his bladder. Which meant that he'd inevitably wet himself, and that was the last thing he needed right now.
"Do you need help?"
"No," Tony said quickly. Too quick. Steve flinched, and a part of Tony felt guilty. Diaper changes had always been a special time between them. His daddy would lay Tony out on the changing table and coo at him, tickling his ribs and peppering kisses across his belly, until what should have been something miserable and embarrassing left Tony giggling instead. It was even better at night, because after the last diaper change, Steve would give him a full-body massage that was always guaranteed to send Tony right to sleep. He ached to lay down and feel those strong, steady hands on him again, but he just couldn't.
"Okay. I'll call Rhodes and Peter and wait right outside for you." He seemed reluctant to leave, though, looking a little too obviously from Tony to the window and back again.
Tony said, "I won't leave. At least not yet. I promise."
Steve gave him a searching look but nodded and stepped out of the room.
Suddenly, the room was simultaneously too big and too small. The contrast left Tony shivering. He dropped the pants he'd managed to pull up and, half-naked, walked over to the changing table. Steve hadn't been kidding when he said it was fully stocked. Tony ripped open a package of diapers, disregarding the cream and powder, and slipped it between his thighs. It was difficult to fasten the diaper with just one hand, and once or twice he actually considered calling Steve back in. He was too little to do this on his own, and tears of frustration started welling up in his eyes.
The door swung open at that exact moment. "Stark?"
"Go 'way," Tony choked out, because he did not want to see Coulson right now.
Coulson sighed and stepped into the room. "I could, Tony, but you're upset and you look like you need help."
"I don't need anything from you," Tony said, well aware that he was being childish, but he didn't care.
"I had the feeling you would say that. I brought back-up."
Tony's glare intensified when Fury walked in, shutting the door behind him. Fury ignored the glare entirely, walking straight over to Tony and removing the diaper from his hand. He expertly slipped it between Tony's thighs, pulled it up around his waist, and pinned the tabs in place.
"Don't give me lip, Stark," he said sternly, pinning Tony with a look. "I baby-sat you back when you were a physical baby; I've changed your diapers more times than I can count."
Tony had thought he was all cried out. Apparently he was wrong. Fury sighed and pulled him into a hug. It was a little awkward, but safe. So safe. Tony closed his eyes and curled closer. Something pressed to his lips, and he opened his mouth automatically to accept a pacifier. He followed blindly when Fury stepped backwards, and ended up being guided down onto a little couch that - oh. Yes, that rocking motion was very soothing indeed when coupled with a hand being stroked through his hair.
He stopped crying much faster this time and opened his eyes. He was sitting on a rocking couch, safely ensconced between Fury and Coulson. Neither man was saying anything; Fury was still hugging him, while Coulson was the one petting Tony's hair. The couch was facing a window, which had an amazing view - but Tony wasn't really paying attention to it. He was too busy focusing on all the people down below.
Most, if not all, of the team was outside on the lawn. Clint and Wanda were standing the furthest away; Vision was near them, but not with them, and he and Wanda kept exchanging little glances. Rhodey and Bruce appeared to be arguing with each other, judging by how quickly Bruce's hands were moving and the expression on Rhodey's face. Maria Hill was observing them; Peter stood next to her, hands in his pockets. Sam and Scott were sitting in the shade of the tree; a door banged in the distance, and Steve slumped into view, walking over to them very slowly.
There were more people out there too - he was pretty sure he saw Clint's family, for one thing - but Tony was too tired to identify them all. He sucked slowly on his pacifier and listened to Coulson and Fury talking in low voices for quite a while. It was calm and peaceful and exactly what he needed after months of feeling like he couldn't even breathe without worrying about a knife being plunged into his back. He honestly couldn't remember the last time someone had just let him be little like this.
"I know you're angry at me," Coulson said, and it took Tony several seconds to realize that Coulson was speaking to him. "Everyone was. I didn't mean to let it drag on for so long; I meant to come back right away and tell you all the truth, but then there was Hydra and I was reassigned to a new team and..." Coulson sighed heavily. "You guys were getting along fine without me."
Tony looked up at him. He didn't feel capable of speaking even without his pacifier, but he thought a single raised eyebrow spoke volumes.
"Yeah, I know," Coulson muttered with a rueful smile. He'd never stopped the petting of Tony's hair. "Stupid thinking on my part."
"I opted not to tell you because I didn't think it would make a difference," Fury said bluntly. "But you already know I made enough of those mistakes. And I'm not the only one."
Tony made a low, distressed noise in his throat. Both men shushed him.
"I didn't just mean you. We all had our part in this," Fury told him. His voice was brisk, but his hands were gentle where he was idly rubbing Tony's hip. "I've made my opinion of that very clear during the past three months. Now that you're away from Ross, we can start fixing this shit."
This time, Tony wasn't even aware of how quickly he tensed up or of the low, terrified whimper that spilled out of him. He just knew that he was being hugged and shushed again, and that Fury and Coulson were looking at each other in a way that seemed angry, just not at Tony. Or maybe at him; it was hard to tell the difference anymore. He whimpered again.
"You're okay," Coulson said, and his voice didn't hit the right register, but it was calming nonetheless. "I've talked to Clint at length. We've come to a few understandings. The Avengers were meant to be a team. That means no jumping to conclusions or hiding secrets." He sighed. "Like Fury said, we've all failed at this in some way. It's just unfortunate that you were the one who got left behind to deal with everything. I'm sorry, Tony. I thought it was better to bide my time, but I should have gotten you out of there sooner. Rather than wait for this to happen." He touched a gentle finger to Tony's cast, and Tony flinched.
Coulson frowned, and without a word he got up and left the room. Tony looked after him longingly, wishing that he would come back; he was mad at Coulson for having lied, but at the same time that betrayal felt a lot easier to handle than anything else that had happened. Maybe because it had happened a long time ago, and his grieving for Coulson had long-since been done and buried. Everything else was still so painfully fresh.
Down below, Bruce looked up suddenly and then started walking towards the house. Tony chewed on his pacifier, unconsciously wrapping his fingers around Fury's shirt.
"He's mad at you," Fury confirmed what Tony was thinking. "But I think, in time, he'll come around. Everyone will. Even you."
Tony didn't know how true that was. He wasn't even mad at anyone now; he was just desperately tired of everything and scared of being hurt and he just wanted to stop everything for a little while.
Fury put his foot flat on the ground and started the couch rocking again. A few minutes later, Coulson came in with a bottle. He sat back down beside them and pulled Tony against him, offering him the bottle.
"Bruce helped me make this. It has a painkiller in it. Do you want help, or would you prefer to do it yourself?"
Only Steve had given him a bottle before. Tony remembered being held in Steve's arms, looking up at that familiar face, and his heart ached. He opened his mouth, letting the pacifier fall out, and leaned forward to latch onto the nipple. The milk was warm and smooth, sliding down his throat and into his empty tummy.
"Good boy," Coulson murmured, not condescending but kind, and wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulders. Fury pulled Tony's bare feet up into his lap and covered his lower half with a soft blue blanket. Tony pinched the tip of it between his fingers, rubbing slowly, and closed his eyes while he drank. For a little while at least, he was safe.