Archive of Our Own

It’s been almost twenty-four hours, but still none of it seems or feels entirely real.

Well, to be fair, learning about the existence of parallel universes, finding out there’s at least one other Earth that has been destroyed by a threat his Earth isn’t even fully aware of yet, and getting two other-universe versions of people he’s currently not exactly on speaking terms with dropped into his lap has been kind of a lot.

It might take Tony another day—or year, more likely—to wrap his head around all of that.

He shudders, and pushes himself up from the couch, knuckling at his eyes as he makes his way over to the kitchen. He’s seen a lot, before and especially since becoming Iron Man, but the images of a completely dark, silent, scorched Earth littered with bodies and covered in still faintly glowing ash will definitely feature prominently in his nightmares for the foreseeable future.

He checks his phone as he waits for the machine to finish brewing his coffee, not really surprised when there’s still nothing from Strange. Actually, now that he thinks about it, Tony doesn’t even know if Strange will call or text, or just magically appear in the middle of his workshop again and give him another near heart attack.

Universe-hopping, reality-bending sorcerers; another thing Tony hadn’t been aware of before Strange’s impromptu visit last night.

He has barely taken a sip of his coffee when the screen built into the wall above the breakfast bar flickers to life, showing a night-vision view of the guest room. Cursing, Tony quickly sets down his mug, nearly burning his fingers with the sloshing liquid in the process, and hurries across the hall. He pushes the door open as quietly as possible, tiptoes into the room, and lets out a breath of relief after checking both of the cribs.

“Hi there,” he whispers, bending down to carefully pick up the toddler blinking up at him with big, wet eyes, bringing him up to rest against his chest. “Let’s be quiet and not wake up your little buddy, okay?”

In answer, Tony gets a tired murmur, and a small face is smushed into his neck, which he decides to take as agreement.

It probably says a lot about him—and his relationship with a certain star spangled man without any real plans—that he prefers a tiny Barnes to an even tinier Rogers. Granted, parallel universe Steve is a handful, to put it mildly, but even when he’s content and behaving well, Tony isn’t all that comfortable interacting him. Part of that is probably due to Tony never being entirely sure how to handle miniature humans, but he suspects it’s mostly because even being the age that he is and coming from a different universe, baby Steve is unmistakably, one-hundred percent a Steven Grant Rogers.

Barnes, on the other hand, is still mostly an unknown. Tony’s had the time to gain some distance and perspective, and let go of most of his anger towards him. And it definitely helps that James is easy to please, happy as long as he’s being fed regularly and cuddled every now and then.

Tony prepares a bottle with James held in one arm, and only drops one little rubber seal before he manages to screw it closed. He cheers at James, bouncing him gently, and can’t help but smile back when James lets out a string of high-pitched giggles.

They settle down in one of the recliners in the den, James in the crook of Tony’s arm with his bottle, while Tony scrolls through his phone and keeps an eye on James to make sure he doesn’t drink too quickly and get the hiccups. Again.

There isn’t much information about what, exactly, has happened to the Earth the young James and Steve have come from, but Tony can’t help but look through what little he has once again. According to Strange, that Earth’s Avengers were trying to find and collect the Infinity Stones, six powerful gems that, once brought together, are almost immeasurably powerful, and would have been the weapon needed to defeat a villain called the Mad Titan who’d been terrorising their entire universe.

Something had obviously gone wrong, though, considering their Earth is no more, and all that’s left of its population are the two babies Tony is playing babysitter for at the moment.

Strange hadn’t been sure yet what had happened to the Mad Titan when he’d relayed the whole mess to Tony, but apparently there hasn’t been a trace of him since he’d obliterated parallel Earth. He might have died along with everyone else, or he might have finished whatever mission he’d been on and just—left.

Either way, Strange and Tony had agreed that now that they knew what kind of enemy would be knocking at their door soon, it was time to get the band back together. Strange had volunteered to go talk to the rogue Avengers since, officially, Tony doesn’t know where they are, although he does have his suspicions. There are only so many places that will grant you asylum after you’ve majorly pissed off most of the member countries of the United Nations, after all.

So, right now, all Tony can do is wait and worry, and try to decide who he’s more angry at; himself for not being even more insistent that something dangerous was coming after seeing the other side of that wormhole during the battle of New York, or everyone who’d dismissed him whenever he had tried to bring it up.

James makes a soft little noise, his eyes drooping and the bottle hanging loosely in his hands when Tony glances down at him. He doesn’t even protest when Tony takes it and puts it down on the coffee table, just wriggles around so he can snuggle more closely against Tony’s chest. Tony puts a hand on his back to steady him, then leans back and makes himself comfortable.

He’s only been responsible for James and Steve for a little under a day, but he’s learned already that trying to put either of them down before they’re fully under will only restart the whole falling asleep process. And make it louder, usually.

Tony doesn’t mean to fall asleep himself, but he realises he must have when a loud, whizzing sound makes him startle awake just in time to see Strange lead a group of people out of what he assumes is a portal. He scrambles up, apologetically shushing James when he whines in his sleep, heart beating wildly and fingers itching to summon the repulsor gauntlet at the sight of Rogers and Barnes.

He curls his free hand into a fist instead, swallowing down the scathing comment on the tip of his tongue when he catches Rogers staring at him with wide eyes, and automatically angles his body so James isn’t in full sight. He watches in silence as T’Challa and his guard step out of the portal before Strange closes it again, and refuses to be the one to break it even as it starts to grow tense and awkward.

It’s Steve’s cries coming from the guest room that send everyone back into motion. Tony grinds his teeth when James wakes up a second later, lower lip wobbling dangerously as he looks at the strangers in the room, and hitches him a little higher so he can hide his face against Tony’s shoulder.

“Make yourself at home,” Tony says, too tired to keep the bite out of his voice, or play at being a good host right now.

He leaves them standing there, turning on his heels without another glance. Besides, Rogers had lived in the tower for months, had been to Tony’s penthouse countless times; if he needs something, he can damn well go and get it himself.

Steve is standing in his crib when Tony pushes open the door, holding onto the bars to keep himself up. His face is bright red, tears rolling down his cheeks, and his sobs only increase in volume once he spots Tony.

“Okay, hey,” Tony sighs, stroking a hand through Steve’s mussed hair. “You’re fine, kiddo, everything’s fine.”

Less than impressed by that, Steve just keeps crying. Tony shifts James a little to the side, which makes James grumble, and reaches out to scoop Steve up. As always, Steve wiggles and fights him even as he presses closer against Tony, screeching loudly right into Tony’s ear.

Tony winces, takes a deep breath, and readjusts his hold to make sure he doesn’t drop either of the babies. “All right,” he says, trying to sound more collected than he feels, “see? You’re fine, James is fine, everything’s okay.”

“No!” Steve wails miserably, one tiny hand pushing at Tony’s chest, the other curled into Tony’s hair. “No, no, no!”

“Yes,” Tony counters as he moves back towards the hall, “unless you want me to put you back down.”

Steve hiccups, frowning, but his next, “No,” is quieter and, Tony suspects, more for the sake of saying it again than actual protest.

Because this is Tony’s life now; arguing with a cranky ten-month-old while an almost two-year-old is doing his very best to rip off the top button of his dress shirt.

Strange and the others have sat down in the den when Tony gets back, all of them staring at him as he steps into the room. It makes James burst into tears as soon as he notices, and Tony knows what’s going to happen even before Steve follows with renewed effort, bucking wildly enough that Tony has to decide between letting go of him or getting headbutted right in the chin.

It hurts—even more so because of course Tony was made responsible for a parallel-universe baby with super-strength, that’s just his luck—and makes Tony bite his tongue, tears springing to his eyes as the taste of copper fills his mouth.

He’s still blinking, a little disoriented, when Steve is lifted away from him, and apparently shocked enough by that turn of events that he immediately falls quiet. That only lasts for a moment, though, and then Steve is flailing out an arm, fist coming close to hitting Barnes, of all people, in the cheek before Barnes grabs it out of mid-air.

“We don’t hit people,” Barnes says, calm and easy, but with a note to it that makes it clear he’s completely serious. He turns so Steve can see Tony. “Hittin’ hurts people, it’s not nice.”

Steve is frozen, watching Tony rub at his jaw, but then reaches out, making grabby hands at Tony. Barnes, somehow, switches Steve for James without any problems, murmuring quietly to a suspicious-looking James as Steve throws his small arms around Tony’s neck, blubbering and sniffling.

Tony meets Barnes’ eyes over the top of Steve’s head. Barnes smiles, just a tiny quirk of his mouth, and Tony pushes his nose into Steve’s hair to hide his own expression, not entirely sure what his face is doing apart from heating up.

“So,” Rogers pipes up eventually, “this is extremely weird, huh?”

It manages to startle an amused huff out of Tony, one that turns into a full laugh when Barnes answers, “No idea what you’re talkin’ about, pal, this is exactly how I remember you as a kid.”

Rogers splutters, but he’s laughing, too, and something in Tony—it just dissolves, makes him feel like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

“Not sure he ever grew out of it,” he throws in, which makes Rogers squawk indignantly, and Barnes throw his head back and laugh.

Strange is watching them with his eyebrows raised, and even T’Challa looks like he’s fighting a grin when he suggests, “How about we table the discussion of Captain Rogers’ maturity for the time being, and focus on the reason Doctor Strange has brought us all here?”

Everyone sobers quickly at the reminder of why they’re all here, together for the first time in months. Tony directs everyone to his office while he heads for the kitchen with a feeling that they’ll need all the coffee he has to work through this.

Barnes follows Tony instead of the others, James half asleep in his arm—and Tony is definitely talking to T’Challa about that, because hot damn—and asks where everything is to make another round of bottles for the babies, working quietly while Tony gets mugs, sugar and milk. He also grabs a package of baby crackers out of the cupboard, and lets Steve chew on one while he and Barnes carry everything over to the office.

The meeting itself isn’t easy, because the situation at hand isn’t, but Tony and Rogers fall back into working together again, into complementing each other like they’ve never been apart. Like the last time they’d seen each other hadn’t ended in harsh words and even harsher blows.

Tony is relieved, but it’s disheartening at the same time. Depressing to think about how spectacularly they’d failed, themselves and everyone else, during the whole Sokovia Accords mess. Steve must be thinking something along the same lines, his eyes tired and wary whenever they’re looking at each other.

It makes Tony’s throat close up, and he focuses on Barnes and James instead, watching Barnes handle James with confidence and ease. He wonders if it is, at least partly, due to them being the same person, for all intents and purposes, but mostly it looks like Barnes is just good with kids. Not that Tony’s been terrible at looking after James and Steve over the last day, but while James is quietly sitting in Barnes’ lap and scribbling on some spare paper, Steve is babbling to himself and smearing his soggy cracker into Tony’s beard instead of actually eating it.

They come to a decision on how to proceed in the early hours of the morning, the babies long asleep and Tony not far behind. Rogers and T’Challa are adamant to start, though, and Strange is willing to portal them to the parallel Earth as soon as they’ve gone and gotten some more Wakandan reinforcements, just in case it isn’t as deserted as they’re assuming right now.

None of them are sure what they’re going to find, if anything, but combing through whatever data and information might be left in the parallel Avengers Tower seems like the best way to begin figuring out how to defeat their version of the Mad Titan.

Strange opens a portal out in the hallway before everyone else joins him, no one keen on a repeat performance of the scared babies, and T’Challa and his guard are already through when Rogers stops next to Tony, chewing his bottom lip.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Don’t make it weird, Rogers.”

Rogers chuckles softly, shaking his head, but only mutters, “How about you call me Steve again?” and gently bumps his shoulder into Tony’s before following T’Challa.

Strange steps through after him, making Tony turn to frown at Barnes, who smiles and shakes his head. He nods at the den, and they slump down on one of the couches together, mindful of the slumbering babies.

Tony doesn’t ask, but after a few minutes, Barnes says, quiet, “‘M not ready, I think. For—”

He waves his free hand and grimaces, but Tony nods anyway, understanding. “Yeah.”

“Besides,” Barnes says, voice teasing, brushing a thumb over James’ cheek, “‘m pretty sure you could use some help around here.”

Tony just groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. “Fuck you, RoboCop. But also, yes please.”

Barnes’ low laugh is the last thing Tony hears before he drifts off.

He wakes up once when Steve sneezes against his mouth, his own head resting on Barnes’ chest, next to where James is sleeping peacefully. He tries to sit up, but the arm Barnes has around him tightens ever so slightly.

“‘S comfy, stop moving.”

Tony yawns, tucks himself more comfortably against Barnes, and, for once in his life, simply does as he’s told.