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The team stared at the little version of Tony, waiting for the inevitable tantrum.
It never came.
A blood test proved that it was, in fact, the genius in toddler form, so the team had readied themselves for the screaming misbehavior. To the other's amazement/disbelief/worry, the toddler just sat there, blinking up at them. His silence put them all on edge, but those big hazel eyes just stared right back. Once Tony finally did open his mouth, they steeled themselves, but the young teammate only spoke in a clear, if a little bit squeaky, voice.
"Daddy?"
Steve and Bucky shared a nervous look before Steve spoke up.
"Um...your Daddy's not here. He had to leave for a while."
"Mommy?"
"She went with your Daddy."
Tony scrunched his eyebrows, which everyone had to admit was adorable. He slid off of the couch, looking around. He looked distinctly unimpressed, but they figured that if you grew up in a mansion you might be.
"Jarvis?"
"Yes, sir?"
Tony's head whipped towards the ceiling, obviously looking for his butler's disembodied voice. Steve thought he was going to have to explain AIs to him, when Tony spoke up.
"Jarvis? You must be on the phone. Are you going to stay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hm. At least you're here."
He continued to wander around, wobbling unsteadily. Nobody knew what to do with him, because he seemed fairly self-sufficient. He climbed up a stool in an attempt to gain a better vantage point, and Steve almost smacked himself in the face. Tony had a habit of leaving his tools wherever inspiration struck. And obviously Tiny Tony had found some. There wasn't a blowtorch or anything else readily explosive (not that anything wasn't explosive in a Stark's hands) in the bunch. Just a screwdriver, wrench, and an...electric drill. Bucky saw it before Steve, and blanched.
"Tony. We need you to put that down before you hurt yourself."
Tony shot him that unimpressed look again, pointedly pressing down on the trigger. It was large in his small hands, and it took two hands to hold it, but he made a point.
"I watch Daddy use them all the time. 'M not stupid. I know not to run with them or anything. And sometimes he lets me help."
Bucky's expression soured. Howard let his kid play with power tools? What the actual fuck. Steve looked ready to run and rip the drill out of Tony's hands, but it was too late. Tony had gathered the tools and scurried off, out of sight. He was fairly small, so he could hide in whatever place he wanted, pretty much. And he had hidden from kidnappers before, anyway. They weren't taking his tools away. His Daddy was gone, and that meant he had time to work on his skills so he could make him proud when he got back.
It looked like Tiny Tony was too intelligent and had far too much experience for a child his age. The other Avengers all sighed. He would come out eventually.
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"Fuck!"
Steve was about to grab his shield when Clint fell at his feet. The grate lied on top of him, bolts missing. Clint groaned and rolled over, glaring at the ceiling.
"When I catch you, squirt, you're gonna get it!"
"No thanks. I just needed the bolts. I got what I needed."
Steve helped Clint to his feet.
"How did he even get in there?"
"I don't know. He's been in there for a while, it seems. I was crawling around when I found him. I tried grabbing him, but my knee hit a loose grate and I fell down."
Steve sighed.
"Tony. Why are you in the vents?"
"Why was Mr. Clint in the vents?"
"Tony."
"I needed bolts. And the ceiling was the only place with the ones I need."
"How-"
"I followed Mr. Clint. I grabbed onto his shirt and rode up there with him."
Steve glared at Clint.
"You're telling me that you didn't feel a young child clutching your back?"
"Hey, he's light!"
"What about the tools?"
"He's made some sort of tool-belt out of one of his jackets."
Steve rubbed his temples. This was ridiculous. He needed to get Tony out of there and confiscate the bolts. But by the time Clint had climbed back into the vents (avoiding the now loose grates) and searched, Tony was long gone.
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"James Buchanan Barnes. Get your ass in here."
Bucky winced. He knew when Natasha full-named him, he was in deep, deep shit. So he left Steve and Clint to Tony-hunting and went to look at what was wrong with his fellow assassin. What he saw left him unsure of whether to laugh, cry, or rip his hair out. Tony had gotten his hands on various appliances, from the toaster to the microwave. But what drew his attention was the butchered coffee maker laying forlornly on its side. It had been gutted, obviously in Tony's mysterious hunt for parts. How he even knew how to open the damn thing when he couldn't figure it out as an adult puzzled him. But Natasha looked out for blood, obviously not caring about Tony's current state. He felt bad for Tony; he knew how dangerous she was without her coffee.
"Um."
"Your itty-bitty boyfriend has destroyed the coffee machine. Little or no, there will be consequences if it's not fixed immediately."
With that, she released the front of his shirt where she had grabbed it, and stalked away.
Damn.
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Steve and Bucky fell into a heap on the couches in the Penthouse. Even with JARVIS' help, the had no luck in finding Tiny Tony. Every time they had a lead, by the time they got there he was gone. And everywhere he went, he left torn-apart electronics. The TV, laptops, their phones, all of them fell in Tony's wake. They were just about to call it quits when JARVIS spoke up.
"Sirs?"
"Yeah, JARVIS?"
"Young Master Tony is in the Common Area. He appears to be in distress."
Worst-case scenarios flashed in front of both of their eyes as they rode the elevator down towards the Common Area. What they found was an...unexpected surprise.
Tony was crying in the middle of the rug, parts strewn all around him. He picked up a screwdriver and chucked it, and they winced as it crashed against the window. He was about to do the same with the drill when Steve hesitantly approached him.
"Hey, buddy. What's wrong?"
Tony hiccupped, and picked up something out of the pile. Steve raised his eyebrows. In Tony's hands was a toy robot, which was actually extremely detailed and large enough that he had to use two hands to hold it upright. Steve looked at him for permission, and Tony just nodded, silent tears still rolling down his red cheeks.
"It's amazing, Tony. Why are you crying, bud?"
"It's not good enough."
"What do you mean, it's perfect-"
"No, it's not! Daddy won't want this! He's just gonna throw it away like the rest, because it's not good enough!"
Bucky ran towards Tony's side, picking him up and shushing him.
"It's wonderful, sweetheart. And if your Daddy can't see that, then he's not half as smart as you are."
"...Really?"
"Yeah. And besides, didn't you have fun making it?"
"...The stuff I took apart was cool."
"See? So there's no reason to cry. Besides. Steve and I would love to play with it with you. Why don't you show us how it works?"
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Tony was fast asleep on the bed, finally succumbing to unconsciousness, clutching his various Avengers toys. After explaining how the robot worked, and the pieces that were in it, he was tuckered out. They didn't really understand a damn thing, but they were fascinated nonetheless. Tony obviously was ecstatic that he could show off his robot to a willing audience, and he even let them attach a few pieces to it to make it a project by all of them. So when he yawned and rubbed his eyes, they figured it was time to put him to bed. As Steve tucked him in, Bucky put the robot on top of their mantle in the Penthouse, next to a few of Steve's drawings and some photos they took on their last vacation in Italy.
Tony still looked embarrassed, yet pleased, whenever he looked at it. After he had returned to normal size he had insisted they trash it, claiming that he literally made ground-breaking tech on a regular basis. But his boys had merely squeezed him tight and refused. They spent the day in bed, enjoying their time together as adults.
Well, after Tony fixed the coffee machine.
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