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Daphne waited until Tony and Pepper fell asleep to leave.
She checked Morgan's room first—the last thing she wanted was the toddler ratting her out—and then headed to Tony's lab.
She grabbed the AI glasses Tony wears when he walks, and a couple little gadgets Tony's made over the years, stuff he wouldn't recognize had gone missing. Some kind of taser, what looks like a baton, Captain America's shield. (Which, okay, she knows she shouldn't be messing with, but she knows Tony would rather her be safe than sorry.)
It felt wrong to take it, borrowing stuff her dad trusted her not to, but she told herself she'd put everything back before sunrise. No harm done.
The lab lights dimmed automatically as she slipped out, the door sealing behind her with a soft hiss.
Outside, the air was cool and damp. She kept to the sidewalks, hands loose at her sides.
She wasn't looking for trouble, she told herself over and over. She just wanted to make sure nothing happened, protect people like Tony and Peter used to.
She'd only been walking for about 30 minutes when she ran into a woman, probably a couple years older than her. She was walking in the same direction as Daphne was, holding a phone to her ear, but the glasses told Daphne she wasn't talking to anyone.
Daphne sped up until she was walking beside the woman.
"Hey."
The woman startled, fingers tightening around the phone. She glanced sideways, eyes flicking over Daphne’s face like she was trying to place her.
“Sorry,” Daphne said quickly. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” the woman replied, though her grip on the phone didn’t loosen. “Just—late night.”
“I get it.” Daphne nodded toward the street ahead. “You headed this way?”
"Yeah."
They walked in silence. Daphne matched her pace without really thinking about it, keeping half an eye on their reflections in the windows of stores they walked past.
“You live around here?” Daphne asked, casual.
The woman hesitated. “A few blocks.”
“Same,” Daphne lied easily.
A car drove up in her periphery, going too slow for midnight. Daphne felt it before she saw it—the prickle at the back of her neck, the sense of being watched. She felt behind her as subtly as she could, fingers running over the edge of the shield on her back.
The woman noticed it too. She sped up, shoulders tensing.
Daphne matched her again.
The car drove right past them, turning the corner.
The woman let out a breath she’d clearly been holding.
“Probably nothing,” Daphne said, even as her pulse picked up.
“Yeah,” the woman replied. “Probably.”
They made it another half block before the car came back.
This time it didn’t pass.
It idled at the curb ahead of them, hazard lights flicking on like a bad excuse. The passenger-side window rolled down an inch.
“Hey,” a man called out. “You girls need a ride?”
The woman stopped.
Daphne didn’t.
She stepped half a pace forward, putting herself just slightly in front without making it obvious. “We’re good,” she said easily. “Thanks, though.”
The man laughed, like she’d told a joke. “It’s cold out. You ladies'll freeze.”
The driver leaned across the console, eyes crawling over them. Daphne felt her jaw tighten. She shifted her weight, ready.
“We said no,” the woman snapped, voice sharp with fear.
The car door creaked open but Daphne moved faster. The shield was in her hand before either of them could register it, she slid her arm through the straps as she planted herself between the woman and the car.
“We don't want a ride,” Daphne said, voice steady. “So leave.”
The man froze, confusion flickering across his face as he took in the star emblazoned on the metal. “What the hell—”
Daphne slammed the shield into the door, hard enough to dent the frame and make the hinges scream. Not a full-force hit—Tony would kill her—but the door swung shut.
The driver swore. Tires screeched. The car peeled away into the dark, taillights vanishing around the corner.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then the woman turned, staring at Daphne like she’d just stepped out of a nightmare.
“Holy shit,” she whispered. “Are you—”
“I'm fine,” Daphne said quickly, lowering the shield and feeling her hands shake now that it was over. “You okay?”
The woman nodded, eyes still wide. “Yeah. I think so.”
Daphne glanced down the street, then back at her. “You said a few blocks, right? I can walk you.”
The woman swallowed. “Please.”
They started again, Daphne walking closer this time. When they reached the woman’s building, she lingered at the door, fumbling with her keys.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t know what would’ve—”
“It’s okay,” Daphne cut in. “You’re home.”
The door shut behind her.
Daphne stood there a moment longer, listening until she heard the lock slide into place.
Only then did she turn back toward home.
Fortunately, she didn't run into much more trouble on her way back. She stopped a mugger, called in about a lost dog she saw run past, and that was really it.
By the time Daphne turned onto her street, the adrenaline had worn off enough that she could feel the ache in her eye. She's positive she was bruised, but she could worry about that when she woke up tomorrow.
The house loomed ahead, dark except for the faint glow of a porch light Pepper always forgot to turn off. Daphne slowed as she approached, suddenly aware of how tired her legs felt, how the shield weighed more now than it had an hour ago.
She slipped inside as carefully as she’d left, shoes off, breath held.
The kitchen light clicked on.
Daphne froze.
Tony sat on the counter, cross-legged, a mug of tea cradled between his hands. His hair was mussed, glasses missing, eyes sharp in a way that told her he'd been awake for a while now.
“Hi,” she said weakly.
“Hi,” Tony replied, “where have you been?”
His voice was calm. Which was so, so much worse than angry. Because one thing she's learned in the last nine years of knowing Tony is that he's never really calm. Not unless he's trying way too hard to be.
Daphne stopped short, guilt crashing into her all at once. “I—” She exhaled, words tumbling out too fast. “Just.. walking.”
“At three in the morning,” he said. Not a question.
She nodded. "I—Don't worry, I didn't do anything stupid, I promise."
Tony exhaled slowly through his nose. He slid off the counter and crossed the kitchen, stopping a few feet away. Up close, she could see it now—the tightness in his jaw, the red-rimmed eyes.
"Didn't do anything stupid," he repeated. He reached behind her, taking the shield off her back. "Is that so?"
Tony sighed, placing the shield down. "And what happened to your eye?"
Daphne lifted a hand to her face without thinking, fingertips brushing the tender skin beneath her eye.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Just—caught an elbow. I’m fine.”
"Caught an elbow," Tony repeated. "Because that makes it better."
Silence stretched between them for a moment, heavy and fragile. Tony reached out without thinking, thumb hovering near her cheek before he seemed to remember himself and pulled back.
“I woke up,” he said quietly. “Your bed was empty.”
Her throat tightened.
“I checked the cameras,” he went on. “The lab. The doors. And for about thirty seconds, I thought—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I thought I’d failed you.”
“You didn’t,” Daphne said immediately. “I just— I knew you’d say no if I asked, so I didn't.”
That got a bitter huff of a laugh out of him. “Yeah. I would have.”
She met his eyes, stubborn and earnest. “But people still needed help, and you're not doing it anymore. Someone has to.”
Tony closed his eyes for a moment, then reached out and pulled her into a hug. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed it until she was clinging to his shirt, face pressed into his shoulder.
"I get it," he murmured. "I really do."
Daphne nodded against him.
"But you can't do this, okay? You want to help people? Fine. We’ll talk about that. We’ll plan. We’ll prep. But you don’t sneak out in the middle of the night with half-tested gear and a borrowed national treasure.”
"I was gonna put it back," she muttered.
Tony chuckled. "That's not the point." He took a breath. "I already lost Pete, and your brother. I can't lose you too."
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are." Tony pulled back, squeezing her shoulders. "I don't forgive you, though."
Daphne chuckled sheepishly. "I'm not grounded?"
"Grounding you wouldn't do shit. I'm not stupid," Tony replied. "Besides, unfortunately you just did what I would do. What kind of hypocrite would I be if I punished you for that?"
Daphne laughed again. "Thanks, dad."
He looked her over again, then nodded once.
“Return what you took and go to bed,” he said. “We’ll talk more in the morning."