Chapter Text
“Let me get this straight,” Clint said, for the third time that hour. “He’s eighteen . The richest person alive, highest IQ in the US and I swear to God if you tell him I said that I’ll kill you- has been turned into a fucking eighteen year old.”
“Yes,” Coulson said, with a level of patience even Steve was finding miraculous. “That is what I am telling you.”
The two were standing near the bay door of the quinjet, rehashing a conversation that had already been repeated several times. Natasha was leaning against the wall, watching in silence, while Bruce sat on the floor near the controls and Steve sat with his arms crossed in one of the chairs, frowning. Thor had gone ahead to discuss the situation with Fury.
“Jesus mother of-” Clint began, unleashing a long string of disreputable words. “How the fuck did this happen?”
“As I have said,” Coulson began, “Several times already, it appears that the creatures we were fighting used some form of extraterrestrial magi-”
“How do we reverse it?” Natasha interrupted. “Do we have any leads on that? Did anyone get a sample of these creatures’ DNA to see what sort of thing we have here?”
Coulson shook his head. “Thor is going to see what information the Asgardians have on the matter. Tony was still unconscious when they picked him up, I haven’t heard anything more on that front.”
Bruce spoke up for the first time. “What about the arc reactor? Did it stay in?”
Coulson nodded. “As far as we can tell the arc reactor hasn’t changed. It’s taking up more space in his chest than it normally would, so that could pose a threat.”
“Oh, god,” Clint grumbled. “Stark’s already an immature asshole, and here I thought he couldn’t get worse…”
“Is he really eighteen, though?” Steve asked. “Or is it just his body- has he lost memories?”
“As far as we can tell, he’s got no memory of anything after he turned seventeen or so.”
~~~
“He woke up on the quinjet while they tried to get him back to headquarters,” was the first thing Nick Fury said upon joining the assembled avengers in a conference room. “Freaked out and destroyed the medical instruments they were using, apparently kicked his doctors in the nuts. We had to handcuff him.”
“This is getting off to a great start,” Natasha observed, earning a glare from Coulson and Steve. She held her hands up slightly in mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry, but honestly? The only thing I can think of worse than having a hangover billionaire genius of a teenager our hands is having a panicked billionaire genius of a teenager. How are we going to keep the press off our tails? They probably have already heard about him going down in the middle of a fight.”
“We’re handling the press,” Coulson said. “The problem right now is Stark, because as much as I hate to admit it, even teenage Stark is a force to be reckoned with when he’s pissed.”
“I knew Stark when he was a teenager,” Fury said grimly. He looked as happy and cheerful as ever. “Quite frankly, there wasn’t much of a goddamned difference then, either, in terms of personality. Except for the possibility that he was more of a jackass then, which is saying something for Stark.. He was a genius and he knew how to manipulate people and handle the press, but he didn’t bother to in favour of spending his time drunk of his ass at rich frat parties. We won’t be able to handle him like he’s a child. He’s already figured out something’s wrong just by the tech we used on the Quinjet. Our best hope is being upfront about things, and hoping he doesn’t decide to do any jackassery while he’s still eighteen.” There was a beeping noise, and the screen in front of Fury flashed with a message. Fury gave a terrible smile. “Speak of the devil. Send ‘im in.”
“He’s here already?” Steve asked, startled. Fury nodded.
A few seconds later, the doors of the conference room slid open. Bruce and Steve did a visible double take. Clint muttered, “mother of god….”. Coulson just wore a vague, very slight smile.
Tony certainly looked younger, the gray hairs gone, the wrinkles faded. He was, if anything, shorter, wearing jeans and a white shirt that didn’t fit right, the glow of the arc reactor bright through his shirt. He was handcuffed, but as the doors opened he said something to the guards behind him and they uncuffed him.
His eyes did a quick sweep across the room before settling on Fury. Something in Tony’s expression looked off , scared even, but he didn't mention it. He strode forward, planting his palms on the desk.
“ Fury , how nice to see you again,” He said, in a dangerously mocking tone. Fury gave a long sigh. Tony kept talking. “Jesus, you’ve gotten old, I mean- sorry, but really, it’s been- what- a year? You look like you’re forty, I swear, the whole shaving thing doesn’t help- and really, come on, an eye patch? I mean, I’m not one to criticize the dramatic here, but that’s a bit over the top-” He paused, but only briefly. “What, you know, I guess I’m trying to say here is why in all of fucking hell did I wake up chained down in a SHIELD jet , huh? And, you know, I’ve got a killer headache- could just be hungover, but really, it feels a lot like somebody goddamn drugged me.”
Fury opened his mouth to talk, but Stark beat him to the chase. “Now, I really thought you were smarter than this, Fury,” he said. “You were privy to the whole fifteen-years-is-the-limit deal, right? Right. So you know that Howard isn’t going to pay you or make you weapons or do whatever the flying fuck it is you want him to do for you that would cause you to do something so abysmally goddamn stupid as drugging Tony Stark and handcuffing him to a jet.” He paused again. “You know, speaking of which, I’m really quite miffed about the whole drugging thing, since when do you have to drug me to get me unconscious, I mean is that really a priority right now, getting me to pass out more , Rhodey’s already going mad as it is. Also, did any of you happen to take a fucking hammer to my chest? Because I feel like I've been trampled on by a herd of wild horses and also my chest is fucking glowing, but nobody will tell me what the hell that's about because they were too busy handcuffing me to a stretcher.”
“Stark,” Fury cut in, “Take a seat and shut up for one goddamned moment and we’ll explain what’s happening.”
Tony, astonishingly, did not sit. He just kept talking. “And, for the record, where in all of the goddamned world did you get that jet, because that sure as fuck didn’t look like SHIELD tech I’ve seen before, and I’ve seen a great deal more SHIELD tech then you think I have, you’ve really got some delusions of grandeur when it comes to your own designs’ security, you sh-” He cut abruptly off, and paused for a long second. He was staring straight at Steve with a very odd, frozen look on his face. Steve looked mildly uncomfortable and tried to appear friendly.
“Well holy goddamn fuck,” Tony said quietly, since apparently his vocabulary decreased under stress. “You found Captain America.”