Chapter Text
Tony watches on screen and Steve walked around the living room, Bucky on his hip. The Little had just woken from a nap and was little more than a snugly octopus. It brought a small smiled to Tony's face as he thought about the two of them. Steve was a loyal Caretaker, sure to give Bucky everything he needed and attentive beyond what Tony believed possible. The man could basically read minds. It kind of blew Tony away.
Bucky, however, was a rambunctious little thing. He'd be all over the place, constantly running to and fro without a care in the world. He was always getting told to pick up his toys and not leave them all over the place. But it was always with a kind smile and never a command, Steve's tone getting him to do what was asked without being threatened with punishment.
Tony envied them. But he knew better than to think he deserved something like that.
He scowled at himself, dragging the screens to the side to close them. He shouldn't be looking at that. It was stupid and he had work to do. Stane was expecting an update to his new tech by morning. And Tony didn't want to think about what would happen if he was late. Even Iron Man was no match for that guy when he was mad.
Tony set into his work, letting the numbers and blue prints surround him and almost form a shield to the world. It was so easy to do now, let everything else matter more and shove that part of himself to the side. Because if he thought about that side for too long, the one that wanted someone to look at him the way Steve looked at Bucky, it would become too much.
So he pushed it down, just like always. Just like he'd been trained. Breath in, breath out, center your body, and think about something else. Even biology was no match for Howard Stark, who wanted to hide a broken son.
It wasn't until the small hours of the morning that Tony came up for air. The project having been finished, there was really no reason for him to stay in the workshop. So he dragged himself to the elevator, hitting the button for the communal floor. He had his own floor, sure. But that didn't mean his kitchen had food or anything other than coffee.
The cab beeped and the doors opened, showing the team huddled in on the couch watching a movie. Or more, sleeping as the movie played on.
Tony stepped out of the cab with a small smile on his face, then walked over to the fridge and yanked it open. A sticky note hung on the side of a tubawear container, claiming the food as Tony's. It was Steve's perfect cursive that put a painful smile on Tony's face. Steve had known Tony would come here looking for food, and had made sure to save him some of dinner so he wouldn't just grab a granola bar after deciding it was too late to cook as he normally did.
The team didn't see him much outside of battles and the highly-mandatory meetings Tony would often ignore. He was always in his lab at the tower, and avoided interaction with the group whenever possible. Agent Coulson was always mad at Tony for missing the bonding exercises, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Tony was co-CEO of Stark Industries, and, therefore, often busy with many other things. Or, so the world thought.
Although Tony did own 51-percent of the company, and it was his name across the building, Tony didn't really have much control at all. Obi had said it was because of his age, at first. He'd claimed that Tony was just too young at seventeen to take the company. Even when he'd turned eighteen, Obi claimed he'd have to wait until he was twenty-one. After the day of his birthday had passed, Obi claimed that a Little could never own a company as large and influential as Stark Industries.
At first, Tony didn't believe him. Howard had claimed him as the owner of SI even with the knowledge of his Classification. But Obi said that it just wasn't possible. It was better for Tony to stay focused on Research and Development and just "play the part" of CEO while Obi took care of the rest.
"It's just not fit for a Little to run this. You know the studies, they are constantly telling us what is and isn't healthy. This would put too much undue stress on you, my boy." Obi said, squeezing Tony's shoulder painfully. "It'll still be your name, but I will do all the busy stuff. You just keep that smart head of yours were it belongs."
Tony didn't have much room to argue, so he didn't even bother. He was a Little, and if that fact came out, he didn't even want to think of the repercussions. Instead, he would let the world think he was Neutral as they had his whole life.
Tony sat down at the table, putting out his phone to read the news as he ate. Dinner had been meatloaf and potatoes, and Steve had left him plenty. Tony had been so zoned out with reading that he didn't notice when Steve took a seat at the table, waiting on the brunet to notice his presence before he spoke. It took several minutes, but eventually, Tony did look up, nearly scared to death as he saw the figure at the table.
"Woah, hey, it's only me." Steve laughed, hands up in surrender.
Tony glared at him for a moment, then went back to his food. It took him a moment to realize he should probably thank Steve for saving him food, but he wasn't really good with verbal accounts of appreciation.
"It's good to see you out of the lab." Steve smiled as he stood up and walked into the kitchen.
Tony let out another groan, knowing the line was coming, but still annoyed by it. "You know, I do have a business to run. Keeps me busy."
Steve laughed, nodding as he filled a cup with water and went back to the table. "All good. But, still, we don't see you much anymore."
Tony would have lied to say that it was mostly because of Steve that he didn't come upstairs. The man just had this presence about him that made Tony's legs get wobbly and his stomach churn. Tony was testing a theory that said if he was never around Steve, he would never get that feeling. It was working--until now.
"I've just got a lot on my plate." Tony lied. His list was clear, which is why he was up here in the first place.
"And yet you never eat anything." Steve joked, flashing that winning smile that made Tony's stomach do a happy little flip.
"Uh, yeah..." Tony looked away, an odd feeling flailing up. "Uh, thanks. You know, for, uh--"
"You're welcome." Steve smiled. "You're a good eater when you want to be."
At Tony's questioning look, Steve pointed down at the empty container. Tony's face flashed red, and the odd feeling grew a little bit more.
"I-I should go," Tony stuttered, trying to stand as quickly as possible and dash into the kitchen. Somewhere along the way, there must have been a wet spot or something, because Tony was suddenly on his back, looking at the ceiling several feet above his head. Pain flared up from his head, sending spikes down his back like a firework.
"Tony!" Steve was suddenly at his side, keeping a hand on his chest to keep him down for a second. "Hey hey hey, it's okay, you're okay. Just stay still for a second, okay. You're okay."
Tony knew he shouldn't let Steve be doing this--grown men don't need people to talk them down after having tripped--but he felt inclined to do what Steve said. So he laid still, hand clutching the back of his head.
"There you go, good boy, okay. Can you sit up for me, slowly." Steve asked, hand on Tony's back to help him up. When Tony was sitting up, Steve asked him to move his hands.
Tony really didn't think it was a good idea, but Steve was convincing. He let go of his head, instead wrapping his arms around himself in a type of hug.
"Good boy. Okay, lets see what's wrong. I don't see any blood, so you're good there." Steve pushed gently on spots on his head, having Tony rate the pain. After a second, Steve decided that Tony had a bit of a bump, but nothing serious.
"We should have Bruce take a look at it, though." Steve said, leaning back on his hands.
"No!" Tony said, a little louder than he meant to. He cupped his hands over his mouth to quiet himself, as if it would take the noise back. "I mean, no. We shouldn't wake him up. He needs his sleep."
Steve looked suspicious, but played along. "Speaking of which, that's what you need to be doing. You've been down there for a week and I know you weren't sleeping properly."
Again, that odd feeling flared up, mixing with a twinge of guilt. "Yeah, I was, uh, just about to do that."
Steve nodded his approval, standing up and then offering a hand to help Tony. The second he was on his feet, Tony was off to the elevator and hitting the button for his floor.
"JARVIS, I need a scan."
"Of what, sir." The AI responded as Tony got off the elevator.
"Me. Whatever happened down there, something was wrong." This feeling in his stomach wouldn't go away, and he couldn't ask Bruce. Littles were easy to spot due to certain... physical differences. Height, weight, structure, and hair growth, just to name a few. If Bruce was a half decent doctor with most of his brain cells, he'd be able to tell. It was a risk Tony wasn't ready to take.
Tony fell face-first onto his bed, curling up on his side as Jarvis did his thing. The feeling was getting stronger, making his stomach twist in ways he wasn't aware were possible. He felt like he was going to puke when JARVIS finally spoke up.
"Sir, your vitals are spiking. All of your symptoms show the possibility of underexposure."
Tony wasn't sure if he would be able to get a word out, but he seemed to successfully say something because JARVIS responded.
"You biological needs, sir."
Those were not the words Tony wanted to hear. But he could deal with this. It wasn't hard, he'd done it before. His body may have chosen that it was Little, but his mind thought otherwise. He just had to breath through the urges, as he always did. In and out, in and out.
There was a part of him that was so done with hiding and hurting and quenching the desire. The part that wanted to see what it was like to be Little every now and then like he was supposed to be. But then Howard or Obi's voice would talk him out of it.
"A Stark would never be Little and let it show. No son of mine is going to be some second-class citizen!"
"Imagine the outcry, Tony. What would the world think if Stark Industries was run by a Little? They'd want you off the board, to sell your stock, and don't even get me started on the shareholders. No, it's best for you to just stay in your lab. That's a good boy."
Tony felt shivers run down his back, making his whole body convulse. The way Obi said good boy was nothing like the way Steve said it. Obi's made it feel like a back-handed complement. It was a, "thank you for doing what I told you, as you should," tone. But Tony was always compelled to follow, because he was getting at least some attention.
Steve's "good boy," though, felt so much more endearing. Like he was just trying to talk to Tony in a way that didn't feel hostile. And Steve was the whole reason Tony was curled up on the bed now, holding onto his sides tightly as he felt like he was falling apart.
It hurt so much. This time was so much stronger, Tony didn't know what to do. His head was pounding with each beat of his heart rate that rapidly increased. He couldn't take it as tears poured from his eyes. Quiet tears soon turned into large sobs, loud and heart breaking.
Tony wasn't a good son, he wasn't a good teammate, he wasn't a good person, and now he wasn't even good at doing the one thing he'd trained his whole life with. Howard's voice echoed through his head, screaming that he was worthless; nothing more than a waste of space.
"Tony?" A voice asked. When Tony didn't respond, it repeated, "Tony!"
Tony was forced to look up, watching as a shadow moved into the room, developing into a person.
"JARVIS, what's wrong?" He asked, stepping closer to Tony and the small amount of light coming off a clock. Bruce's features stood out against the shadows in the white light, but left half of him as shadows. A worried look seemed to be sew onto his face as he listen to the AI's reply.
"Sir is having a mild panic attack, Doctor Banner." JARVIS spoke plainly.
Bruce sprung into action, asking JARVIS to turn on music Tony would like, but not at his usual level. He sat next to Tony, running a hand up and down his back and instructing him to breath. It took longer than Bruce had been expecting, but he got the man calmed down soon enough.
After a long moment of silence, Tony looked up and asked in a broken voice, "Why'd you show up?"
Bruce gave a pained smiled. "JARVIS asked me to. He said you needed help and no one else was awake."
Tony was going to donate that damn AI to a community college, he swears. "I would have been fine."
Bruce shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Still, I'm glad I was able to help you."
Tony let out a loud sigh. He was exhausted and didn't have the energy to argue with any one. He let his eyes flutter shut and focused on his breathing for a minute more before Bruce called his name again.
"What?"
A second of silence and then, "How long?"
Tony cracked an eye open and sent Bruce a questioning look.
"How long have you been hiding your Classification?"
Tony felt all of the blood drain from his face, hands suddenly very cold. His voice left him for longer than could make his next statement true.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Really, because you've never really told us what you were. The news channels, they all say that you're a Neutral. Thing is, I've treated many Neutrals, and they carry weight on their back. Not much, but enough to hide the bones underneath. Same could be said for Alphas and some Omega types. But you carry none."
Tony felt like he was going to puke all over again. He hadn't even known that was a thing! Build always played a part in Classifications, sure. But that usually had to do with height. Who the hell would know where they carry their weight or muscles? Of course, Tony also hadn't been around the world helping every sick person in sight. Bruce would have to know these things to tell what treatments you could give a person. Classifications sometime couldn't handle certain things and it was best to just not mess with it. Bruce would have been forced to be able to tell the difference on experience alone.
"Tony, I don't care what you are. I just want to know that you're getting what you need." The sincerity in Bruce's voice made Tony want to cry all over again.
Bruce's voice was so soft as he asked, "Are you getting what you need?"
Tony shook his head, knowing there was no reason to lie. Tears streamed down his face as Bruce's face twisted in concern.
"Tony, are you a Little?"
And then, Tony did the one thing he thought he'd never be able to do. Not on this matter, anyway.
He told the truth.
And he nodded his head.
Bruce let out a puff of air, as if trying to find where to go from here. "We need to tell the team."
"No!" Tony yelled, louder than he thought possible.
"Yes! Tony, they need to know! What if something happened out there and they can't help you because they don't understand! Everyone believes you're a Neutral! That's not a good place to be when you're putting you life into someone else's hands!" Bruce's voice was loud, but not yelling. Like he needed Tony to listen even if he didn't want to, which was exactly what was going on.
But Tony played the part of dumb just as well, shoving his fingers into his ears and humming.
Bruce sighed and stood to leave, telling Tony to just make it to breakfast in the morning. Tony had no such plans and let Bruce walk out, desperately wanting to reach out and ask the man to stay.
Tony didn't sleep much that night, and happily ran to his lab before the sun came up. He knew the team would be having breakfast about the time that he opened up the cameras. He felt bad for butting in on the conversation, but he needed to see if Bruce was going to share his newfound information.
The whole meal was passing quickly, and no mention of Tony had been brought up. Not even Littles, due to Bucky and Clint being Big. Just as Tony was about to close the screen, Bruce spoke up.
"I think you all need to know something about Tony. And, since he won't show up and tell you himself, I have to be a jerk and do it for him. I only say this because it concerns us all, and we need to know." Bruce took a breath, looking around to make sure that the team was listening. "Tony is a Little, pretending to be a Neutral."
Tony burned red with anger. Did Bruce understand what he was doing? Tony could lose the company his father built if this information got out! He was going to kill him. Science bros be dammed.
Just as Tony was about to tell JARVIS to do something with Bruce, he heard Bucky laugh. Tony leaned toward the screen to see the shocked faces of everyone but Bucky and Clint.
"Duh, he's little." Bucky laughed. "He doesn't hide it well."
At the questioning looks, Bucky went on. "I mean, he's not a big dude. He's small, even for a Little. And he's always got those big puppy eyes. I figured that Stane dude was his caregiver, since none of you were looking to take him in."
"You've seen Stane and Tony together?" Steve asked.
"Yeah," Bucky said, a bit of question in his voice. "I figured he was Tony's Caregiver because he always seemed to be yelling at Tony for one thing or another."
Bruce and Steve shared a look. Tony couldn't take it anymore. He closed the screen and enacted the Black-Out protocol.
Steve felt his heart skip of beat. He'd heard about this Stane guy. Not much, but enough to know he was bad news. There were suspicions that Tony's trip to the Afghanistan caves had been his doing, but there was noting to prove it.
"Bucky, do you know anything that they said?" Steve asked.
Bucky shrugged. "A project or something. Stane seemed angry that he was taking so long. He threatened to tell everyone 'what he really was' and take SI. I didn't really understand it, but I thought it was weird."
"Do you remember exactly what the project was?" Natasha asked seriously.
Bucky thought for a second. "I think he called it a reactor or something."
"An Arch Reactor?" Asked Natasha.
"Yeah, that was it. Why'd you wanna know?"
Natasha looked to Steve. "Stane has a SHEILD file looking into illegal weapon sales. He could be using Tony to make designs and selling them to the highest bidder. If Tony's being threatened, he may not even know what he's doing."
"What do you mean?" Asked Bruce.
"When was the last time any of you heard anything about how SI is doing from Tony? He may not even control it anymore. Tony's been hiding his Classification, too. What if Stane is telling Tony that he'll make sure everyone knows what Tony really is unless he does what he's told. He wouldn't know where the weapons are going or why Stane suddenly wants a reactor."
"The same power source Tony uses to fly the suit." Steve said, realizing what was really going on. "If that gets into the wrong hands..."
"If Tony doesn't do what he's told, I fear that his Classification being out in the open will become the least of our problems. Stane controls Tony's lab because it's part of SI." Clint jumped in, now worried over his friend. "The only thing he doesn't control is--"
"JARVIS." They all yelled together.
"How can I help?" The AI answered. "I am sorry I was unable to tell you sooner. But I was programmed to not relay any of the information."
"JARVIS, where is Tony now?" Steve asked, standing up.
"Sir is in the lab, under a Black-Out."
"Remove it. We need to put Tony somewhere safe. If Stane finds out we're coming after him, he'll go after Tony first."
JARVIS happily closed out the protocol, letting Steve hand out orders.
"Bucky and Natasha, you all are Stane's office. Clint, take to the vents. I need to know where Stane is. Bruce and I will guard Tony in the event anything happens. Got it?"
Heads nodded around the table, and then they were all standing, ready to do what needed to be done.
Tony was pissed, yelling at the ceiling for JARVIS to reactivate Black-Out. Just as he was about to do a manual override, Steve and Bruce busted into the room.
"What're you doing!" Tony yelled as they each took an arm and dragged him into the elevator. "Let me go!"
Neither man answered him as the went to the highest floor--Tony's--and told JARVIS to lock down all ways into the penthouse. Tony was fighting the whole time as they sat him down on his couch. He jumped to run away, but Steve was too fast, gently lifting him and putting him right back on the couch.
"Tony, calm down." Steve's voice was soft as he spoke, making Tony want to listen.
"What all do you know about Obadiah Stane?" Steve asked.
"He's my godfather," Tony said, "my dad's old business partner. He's just always been there."
"What do you know about him and SI?" Steve specified.
Tony shrugged. "Obi doesn't let me see any of the SI files anymore. He says they're--"
Tony stopped, but Steve pushed him to finished. "What does he say, bud?"
Tony's eyes fell on the floor as he said, "Not for Littles." The bitterness rolled off a bit as he spoke. "He says that a lot."
"So you have no idea what he was doing?" Steve asked to make sure.
The look on Tony's face gave him all the answer he needed. Steve tapped on his ear, turning on his comm. "Buck, 'Tasha, how's it going?"
Steve's voice came through the comms loud and clear. Buck tapped his ear to respond, saying, "So far, so good. There might be trouble with Stane's PA, though."
It was something none of them had stopped to think about. Pepper was the wonderful PA that kept SI running when Stane didn't feel like doing it. The woman looked kind and sweet, but she was a force Bucky would rather avoid.
She sat at her desk, looking up every few minutes as people walked by. Natasha stood close to Bucky as they watched, taking in her every move. After a minute more, Natasha stood and just waltzed up to the PA's desk.
"We need to get into Stane's office." She said, loud enough to get Pepper's attention.
Bucky could not believe what she was doing. Natasha was risking the whole operation.
Pepper looked up at the woman dressed in all black that clung tight to her body. For a second, she seemed lost, and then her eyes narrowed. "You figured it out."
Natasha nodded, and Bucky was more lost than ever.
"Which side are you on?" Pepper asked with a fiery look in her eyes.
"The only one that should be sided with." For a moment, Bucky was sure that Natasha was going to lose any chance they had at getting through, and then Pepper stood up, taking a stack of papers with her.
"I'm afraid I have an awful lot of folders to get to people around the building and cannot help you." And then she walked off.
Natasha smiled gratefully, watching as the woman walked away.
"What just happened?" Bucky asked, eyes wild as he looked to Natasha.
"A deal." Was all the woman said before turning around and busting through the large doors. In no time at all, she found the files she was looking for and they were off.