Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Not long after the mess in Siberia, Pepper had much of Stark Tower and the Avengers compound redecorated. But even though everything looked different, that didn't stop Tony from seeing the shadows of his former teammates every time he walked into a room. It was both painful and stressful to the point where sometimes he would go days without eating just so that he didn't have to remember what it had been like when the others were there. Because it turned out that eating take-out all by yourself wasn't quite the same when you were used to sharing.

So this was a whole new experience. Walking into an unfamiliar kitchen was actually kind of nice. Tony sat down at the table and looked around the room. At first glance, he could pick out roughly four different machines that were in dire need of improvement. This was just a SHIELD safe house after all, though he suspected that it was one of the nicer safe houses. And really, considering that he no longer had to share a house with the rest of the ex-Avengers, he wasn't complaining. Sleeping outside in the mud was preferable to running the risk of bumping into one of them at any moment.

Not that that had stopped Steve. No, it was exactly the opposite. Steve was bound determined that he was going to fix things between him and Tony, and he'd thrown a little bit of a fit when he was told that Tony, Bruce, Rhodey, Peter, and Coulson were moving to another safe house. Fortunately, Tony hadn't had to actually witness the fit. But he'd heard about it secondhand. Apparently, Fury had taken more than a little delight in putting Steve in his place and reminding him that Steve didn't get a say in anything have to do with Tony anymore.

He put his head down on the table and sighed. That was true. But it was just as true that Tony still missed his daddy desperately. Fury had decided, and Pepper agreed, that Tony needed to be kept out of the limelight for a while. Others had stepped up to take his place, giving Tony a much needed break. But the downtime was just making him miss Steve even more. It was hard to let go and be Little when the only caregiver around was Peter. Fury, Coulson, and Bruce all registered as baseline. Rhodey, also baseline, had returned to Stark Tower to pack up a few things. Not that Tony would've wanted them to be a replacement, anyway - except maybe Rhodey, because he was awesome.

"Tony?"

The overhead light switched on. He didn't move as Bruce shuffled into the room, but the sound of the coffee machine being switched on definitely caught his attention. Tony lifted his head an inch, peeking at Bruce. The house wasn't stocked with the kind of coffee that Tony liked, but Rhodey had promised to bring some back with him. Until then, Tony was forced to drink subpar coffee or go without. Since the last time he'd gone without was when he was captured in Afghanistan, subpar coffee it was.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked, taking a seat across from him. It would take a minute for the coffee to be ready, which was aggravating.

"I'm just peachy."

"You look tired," Bruce said.

Tony thought about denying it, but really. What was the point? "I can't sleep," he admitted, which was as much as he was going to say. Bruce did not need to know that he'd wet the bed for the past five nights, or that last night Tony had climbed into the crib that was pushed into a corner of his bedroom and cried himself to sleep.

Bruce sighed. "You need to be Little, Tony. You've pushed yourself to your absolute limit. Your body is at the point where it's starting to break down."

"I can't be Little. There's no one to help me," Tony said to the table, and wasn't that just galling to say. Life would be easier if he wasn't a Little period, but it still would've been better if he were an older Little and not a baby. Add in the fact that, every time he woke up, he was half-expecting to find that Bruce, Fury and Coulson had taken off again, and Tony wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to let his headspace take over anytime soon.

"Setting aside the fact that any one of would help, Peter adores you. He would gladly look after you for as long as you needed it."

Tony swallowed. "It's weird."

"What's weird?"

"He's so much younger than me, Bruce. He's just a kid. I can't put that on him. It's not right." The words spilled out, roughened by desperation. He'd still been Little when they left the last safe house. Peter had been fiercely protective, hovering over Tony and all but snapping at anyone who dared to come too close. At the time, Tony had clung to him, seeing Peter as the last caregiver who gave a shit about him. It was only once he forced himself out of his headspace that cold clarity set in: Peter didn't deserve to have that kind of pressure on his shoulders.

"Tony. For one thing, you haven't asked anything of Peter. He offered. I can't argue that he's younger than you, but that does nothing to change his biological drive. He's a caregiver, just like you're a Little. Age has very little to do with it." Bruce folded his arms. "You know that. He spent all of last night pacing around because he's so wound up with energy. He knows that you need him. It's bothering him."

"It is?" Tony frowned, feeling a renewed flush of guilt. "Maybe I should -"

"If the next word out of your mouth is leave, I won't be held responsible for my actions," Bruce warned. When Tony wilted, he softened. "Does it embarrass you? The fact that Peter is so much younger?"

"Maybe."

"It shouldn't. There's nothing wrong with that. He's over the age of eighteen, for one thing, which means he gets to make his own decisions. Besides that, he showed me the results. He matches best with young Littles. Littles like you." Bruce kept his voice gentle.

"That doesn't make it right," Tony pointed out. "He's already Spider-Man in his free time. Plus he has school. I've already dragged him away from his summer vacation."

"If I recall correctly, Peter was the one who did the dragging," Bruce said. "It's okay to be afraid, Tony. After what Steve did, no one could blame you for having second thoughts about developing that kind of relationship with another caregiver. But please don't be so quick to push Peter away. You need him, and frankly I think that he needs you."

"This is all feeling very after school special," Tony said.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay, mock me if you want. That doesn't change the fact that you know I'm right."

"But I'm so much work," Tony mumbled, hunching his shoulders. He knew that. Everyone knew that. "And it's... it's weird."

"The only one who can make it weird is you and Peter. You seemed okay until you started second-guessing yourself," Bruce said. "Furthermore, I think you should let Peter be the one to decide whether it's too much work. He's a caregiver. You know what that means. You saw how wound up Steve used to get when you passed the two week mark without being Little."

Bruce had a point, much as Tony hated to admit it. "He could go home and find a Little there. One his own age. Who is cute and significantly less trouble than me."

"Maybe I don't want to. Maybe I want you," Peter said. Tony jumped. Bruce didn't, the bastard.

"How long have you been standing there?" Tony demanded, twisting around to glare at him.

"Long enough." Peter crossed his arms, a mulish pout on his face. "I came down to see if I could ask you some questions about my summer project."

"Great, let's do that," Tony said quickly, because this was not a conversation he felt prepared to have. Bruce sighed and stood up, waving Peter into his chair. Then he poured himself - and Tony, after Tony gave him some puppy eyes - a cup of coffee and wandered out of the room, leaving them alone.

Peter sat. Tony thought he might try to push the issue, but he didn't. He just dropped a college-level biology book on the table and pointed to one of the tables. It was actually kind of soothing in a way, to push aside everything else and just focus on science. And it was comforting knowing that Peter still saw him as a mentor, that Tony hadn't totally destroyed that side of their relationship with his behavior. He basked in the wide-eyed expression of wonder that crossed Peter's face every time Tony opened his mouth. The fact that he had resumed calling Tony "Mr. Stark" was just a bonus.

Of course, it couldn't last. Tony was still awkward in the cast on his broken arm, still not accustomed to not having the use of both arms, and he accidentally knocked his coffee mug over when he went to grab a pencil to scribble out an equation. Lukewarm coffee flooded over the side of the table and into his lap. He froze. Peter jumped up and hurried over to the sink to grab a dishcloth; at least someone's reaction time was decent, because Tony just kept sitting there. He felt like he couldn't move, even when Peter returned and started mopping up the coffee.

It was all just a huge mess. He couldn't keep the sob from slipping out.

"Tony?" Peter asked. His voice had changed, dropping into something much more soothing. So much for Mr. Stark. He stepped closer, hand raised in the air above Tony's shoulder.

"I'm s-sorry," Tony stuttered, pressing his hand to his mouth when another sob followed.

"Tony, hey. Don't be sorry. There's nothing that you need to apologize for. You haven't done anything wrong." Peter hesitated. "Do you want me to go get Agent Coulson or Fury? Or Bruce?"

No. Tony didn't want any of them. He wanted Steve... but he also wanted Peter. And he knew that he shouldn't, and that this had the potential to be so awkward when everything was over, but he was a weak man. He turned, wrapping his good arm around Peter's waist and pressing his face against Peter's stomach as he broke down into tears. Peter touched him then, gently running his hands over Tony's shoulders.

"Okay. Okay, shh. C'mere." Peter lifted him with such ease, sliding an arm under Tony's bottom and bracing the other across Tony's back. He carried Tony out of the kitchen and up the stairs without even breathing hard.

"S-sorry," Tony whispered again when they walked into his bedroom - though really, he might as well call it a nursery. The bed was the only piece of adult furniture in the room.

"I know, honey. I know. Let's get you out of those wet clothes and into something dry. Bruce said that we needed to keep a close eye on your health. It would be really easy for you to get sick. And I don't know about you, but I hate being sick." Peter made an exaggeratedly disgusted face. "Aunt May always makes me stay in bed for days and she keeps trying make me chicken noodle soup... except she's not a very good cook, so her soup always tastes funny. Don't tell her I told you that, though. She'll be mad."

He laid Tony on the changing table as he chattered, undoing the fastenings of Tony's jeans and pulling the wet denim, as well as Tony's boxers, off completely. Tony flushed with embarrassment, but Peter didn't skip a beat. He grabbed the baby wipes and set about cleaning Tony off, then - forgoing the baby cream for the moment - slid a diaper under his butt and pulled it up between his thighs. He knew exactly where the tabs were, sticking them together with the air of someone who'd done it a hundred times.

"I studied a lot," he explained at Tony's startled look. "I told you I wanted a Little of my own someday. I've read every book on Littles from the library at least twice. And I've looked up dozens of articles and how-to's on the internet." While he talked, he very gently helped Tony to remove the wet shirt he was wearing. He paused for a moment, looking into Tony's eyes. "I don't have much real-life experience, and I know I'm just a stupid kid with a lot to prove, and I know you've been hurt before. But I can take care of you, Tony. I swear. If you'll let me."

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about this, Tony? You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. I can make him go away.” And Coulson sounded only too happy to make that offer, which was distinctly at odds with his previous attitude. A year ago, he’d all but worshipped the ground that Steve walked on. Funny how things could change.

“It’s fine,” Tony muttered for about the twentieth time in the span of an hour. He was getting tired of being asked if he was sure he wanted to see Steve. The truth was, no he didn’t want to see Steve. If Tony had his way, he would never have to see any of the old Avengers again. Just thinking about them was enough to make his stomach churn.

But he also knew Steve well enough to know that Steve wouldn’t give up so easily. Steve was Committed™ to making things work between them, as indicated by the numerous texts and voicemails Tony had been receiving since they’d left the last safe house. Telling Steve not to come now would undoubtedly result in even more attempts at contact, and Tony just didn’t have it in him to deal with that right now. It was just easier to meet with Steve in person for an hour and then Tony would be able to relax.

Coulson didn’t look satisfied with the answer. He actually glanced at Peter, as though expecting Peter to tell him something different, but Peter just shrugged helplessly. Finally, Coulson sighed. “Alright then. But the second you want to leave, you let me know.”

Tony just nodded rather than risk opening his mouth and saying something that he probably shouldn’t say. He watched Coulson and Peter exchange worried looks. Had Bruce been in the room with them, he would’ve been right there with that same stupid look on his face. But for safety reasons – namely, now that Bruce had learned the truth about Siberia and what had happened between Tony and Steve, he was so pissed at Steve that he couldn’t be around him without wanting to Hulk out – Bruce was waiting outside while the visit happened.

All of them tensed when the door opened. Steve – not Captain America, just Steve. Tony was grateful that either Steve’d had the foresight not to wear his uniform, or someone had explicitly warned him against doing so – stepped into the room, face painted with uncertainty until he caught sight of Tony. Then he smiled. It was such a bright, happy smile that Tony wanted to cringe.

Because as far as Tony was concerned, nothing much had changed between them. Steve might have apologized a few times, but that didn’t mean everything was okay. He didn’t trust Steve. He still had nightmares about Steve hitting him with the shield. And he didn’t even know if Steve was really sorry, or if Steve just wanted things to go back to the way they were before so badly that he was saying what he thought Tony wanted to hear.

“Hi Tony,” Steve said softly. It wasn’t his ‘caregiver’ voice, not exactly, which was a good thing because Tony might’ve thrown something at him. Or given him a repulsor blast to the face from the watch he was wearing. He wasn’t in his little headspace right now for a damn good reason. In spite of how he’d let Steve hug him before, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to be Little around Steve again.

“Steve,” Tony said. When he didn’t say anything else, Steve moved a little closer. He was in between Tony and the door, and, even though there were two windows in the room and Peter and Coulson were behind him, Tony was left feeling trapped. He fiddled with the watch on his wrist, his heart quickening.

“How have you been?”

“Fine.”

Steve nodded. “That’s – that’s good.” He finally stopped, a bit too close for Tony’s comfort, hand half-raised like he might try to touch. Fortunately, he realized that wasn’t a good idea and didn’t. Instead, he said, “Things have been good with us too. Well, as good as it can be. Scott and Clint wanted me to thank you for bringing their families to the safe house. And Wanda wanted to thank you for sending Vision.”

Tony snorted. He couldn’t help it. He was 100% certain that Wanda still loathed the ground he had walked on. More likely, she’d complained that Vision hadn’t come sooner. And he was equally sure that Clint and Scott had nothing good to say about him, either. Things had still been pretty frosty when Tony left the safe house. No one had tried to speak to him again, not even Natasha.

“Whatever,” he said flatly when it became obvious Steve was waiting for a response. “I don’t care about them.” Which wasn’t the truth, exactly. He didn’t want to care about them. But sometimes he couldn’t help it.

“Tony,” Steve said, and he had the nerve to sound disapproving. “You shouldn’t say things like that. They’re your teammates.”

“We’re not a team.”

“Yes we are.”

“No, we’re not!” Tony said, maybe a little too loud. “Just because you said you were sorry doesn’t make everything magically okay. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust any of them. How could I?”

Steve winced. “We’re trying to make things better. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t want you to shut me out again.”

“I had every right to shut you out. You were the one who left.”

“I sent you a letter!”

“That fucking letter,” Tony said with a bitter laugh. “You mean the letter that didn’t take responsibility for anything? The one that basically said you were sorry for nothing?”

“I apologized,” Steve said feebly.

“You said you were sorry for my reaction, Steve. You weren’t sorry for anything you did. You were just sorry that I got mad. Do you even get how condescending that is?” Tony was caught somewhere between being angry and wanting to cry. “And then you had the nerve to say that the Avengers were mine, even though you took 90% of the team with you when you fucked off to save Barnes.”

Steve visibly took a deep breath. “Let’s not talk about this right now. I came to see how you were doing.”

Amazing. Tony sure wished that he could push things aside as easily as Steve could. He wrapped his arms around stomach, fighting for air. “No.”

“Tony?”

“I said no! That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You don’t care about me. You just miss having a Little around.”

“There’s no one like you,” Steve said. It was word for word what he’d said last time, but this time Tony wasn’t swayed by some line from a corny 90’s romance movie.

“If you cared that much, you wouldn’t have been so selfish. All you were thinking about was you and what you wanted. You shouldn’t have let things go so far. You should’ve told me the truth about Barnes. You should’ve sat down and talked to me. You shouldn’t have left me behind.” Tony didn’t actually mean for that last part to slip out.

“God Tony, I told you that I was sorry! What more do you want?”

“I don’t know! But you can’t just fix things so easily! You can’t pretend it’s all okay!”

“Then tell me what to do!” Steve roared. Tony flinched. Steve stared at him, breathing hard. “I’m trying here, Tony, but it’s like banging on a brick wall. You have to meet me halfway. I just want things to go back to how it used to be! Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said again. His heart was pounding now, panic making him feel light-headed. He had no idea how things had gotten so bad so quickly. Wasn’t this meant to be a good visit?

“Alright, that’s enough,” Coulson said. Tony flinched again, having actually forgotten that Coulson and Peter were even in the room. He startled when someone touched him, jerking away in fear, until he realized it was just Peter.

“We’re not finished,” said Steve.

“Yes you are. I won’t hesitate to tase you, Rogers,” Coulson said, and Tony had never heard him speak that coldly to Steve.

“Tony, baby, please.”

“Don’t talk to him,” Peter snapped.

“You can’t tell me what to do. That’s my Little,” Steve growled. Tony shuddered.

“That’s it. Out.” Coulson grabbed Steve’s arm, twisting it up behind his back. Steve yelped, probably more in surprise than pain, and actually let himself be shoved out of the room. The door slammed shut behind them.

Tony didn’t even realize he was trembling until Peter touched his arm again. He turned his head, looking into Peter’s sympathetic face, and couldn’t hold back the choked sob that came out. “I g-guess that d-didn’t go so well, huh?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter said quietly.

“He’s never going to change,” Tony said, more to himself than to Peter. “I don’t know w-why I expected anything d-different.” He put a hand over his face, embarrassed that he was so close to tears. He was walking a thin line between being Little and staying big, but he was holding on. For now, anyway.

The door opened again. Coulson came back inside. He looked pissed. “Fury is escorting Rogers out of the building. Are you okay?”

“I’m f-fine.”

“That was a disaster,” Bruce said, walking into the room behind Coulson. His face and eyes had a faint green tinge. It was probably a miracle Steve was leaving the building unharmed.

“I agree. We won’t be having any more visits until Rogers gets some therapy,” said Coulson. “Fury is giving him some recommendations right now.”

“Therapy?” Peter repeated. He still had a hand on Tony’s arm. It was more comforting than Tony wanted to admit.

“I think the whole team could do well with it, actually. That includes you and Tony and Bruce. Everything that’s happened since the Battle of New York, not to mention a few things that happened before that, has been traumatic for everyone.” Coulson looked meaningfully at Tony, who couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Rogers in particular could also use anger management counseling.”

“He won’t go,” Tony said quietly.

“Then he won’t see you again until he does.”

“You can’t make that call.”

“Tony –”

“You’re just going to leave again,” Tony said, staring at the ground. His voice quivered. “All three of you will go, and then it will just be me and the kid again. You really think Steve doesn’t know that? He’ll just bide his time until you’re gone, and then he’ll muscle his way back in here and yell at me some more. I’m so tired of hearing him yell.”

It used to be fun, actually. Of course, that was back when he actually had the strength and energy to yell back without bursting into tears midway through the conversation. He was just so tired now. Tired of everything.

“Tony.” Bruce in particular looked stricken. “I’m not leaving.”

“Sure you’re not,” Tony agreed blithely. “I believe that.”

“No, Tony, I mean it.”

“Me too,” Coulson said. “I’ve taken a leave of absence from my team. So has Fury.”

Tony just shook his head. “You’ll all have your reasons eventually. Everyone leaves.” He knew that Peter would leave too at some point. The kid was too good to be stuck here with Tony forever, no matter what he said about wanting to take care of Tony. Peter would find a new Little and Tony would be alone. He could feel himself crumbling at the thought, another sob escaping.

"Okay,” Peter said. “I think it’s time to go back to the safe house. Can you walk, Tony?”

He could walk just fine, but Tony didn’t protest when Peter picked him up. It was easier that way to hide his face from Bruce and Coulson; he didn’t want to see their expressions or hear more false reassurances. Fortunately, both of them took the hint and remained quiet. By the time they got back to the car, he could feel himself sliding fully into his headspace.

Fury met them there, radiating displeasure. “That was a fuck-up,” he declared. “Rogers is a fucking –”

“Don’t swear around the baby,” Peter snapped, one hand cradling the back of Tony’s head.

“ – menace,” Fury concluded. “Tony?”

Tony tightened his grip on Peter’s neck with one hand, sliding the thumb of his other hand in his mouth. He sucked furiously, eyes burning with tears that he didn’t want to shed. He wanted to talk even less, though. There was a long pause – he wondered if Coulson and Fury were communicating in some secret spy way – but no one forced him to talk. They just opened the car doors and everyone got inside.

Fury and Coulson were in the front seat, which meant that Bruce was in the back with Tony and Peter. Bruce reached over and touched Tony’s arm, keeping his hand there until Tony peeked at him. Bruce’s forehead was furrowed and he was blinking a lot. He tried to smile when he realized Tony was looking at him, but didn’t get very far.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” he said. “I should have told you before I left.”

Tony just blinked. Had he been capable of words, he would’ve said that Bruce was a grown man and didn’t owe anything to anyone. Perhaps the message got through anyway, because Bruce shook his head.

“You’re my friend. My Science Bro. And someone very wise once told me that when someone means something to you, taking off without saying anything is a shitty thing to do.” He kind of laughed a little, but it sounded more like a sob. “I did the same thing to her, even though I know that you both would’ve understood. You would’ve let me go.”

Yes, he would have. After what Wanda made the Hulk do, Tony would’ve understood. It was being left without a word that hurt the most when it came to Bruce. He curled into Peter, who hugged him a little tighter.

“I know an apology doesn’t mean much. You’ve had enough of those, right? And I won’t try to say mine is different or anything like that. I’m not – I’m going to stay this time. Not just for you, but because I can’t keep running away.” He paused, studying Tony’s face. “But… if something happened and I did have to leave, I swear that I’ll tell you first. I know that doesn’t mean much either, but I promise anyway.”

Bruce was wrong, actually. It meant a lot. Tony still believed that Bruce (and Coulson and Fury and Peter) would all leave him someday, but knowing that Bruce would tell him first helped. That, he could also believe. He twisted the arm he had wrapped around Peter’s neck until he could shyly slide his fingers into Bruce’s hand. Bruce might have cried, silent tears rolling down his face right there in the back seat, but Peter was pretending not to notice and Tony would keep his secret.

Chapter Text

There was someone on the bed with him when Tony woke up. He tensed, brain immediately jumping to the conclusion that it might be Steve, but the fingers rubbing at the base of his neck never stopped rubbing. A knot gave way, releasing a lot of pent-up tension, and Tony couldn’t help melting into the touch with a groan. He heard a soft, familiar laugh and relaxed further, willingly sprawling across a chest and belly.

“Ugh, I think you’re putting on weight,” Rhodey complained, though he kept up the light massage.

“Sh’up,” Tony mumbled, opening his eyes just enough to check that they were alone in the room. They were. The door was even shut.

Rhodey laughed again. “You needed to gain some weight, Tones. You were starting to look like a stick for a while there. I guess that Spider-kid must be feeding you lots, huh?”

Tony shrugged, sliding a thumb into his mouth. He wasn’t feeling little enough to slip into his headspace, but sucking on his thumb was comforting even when he was big. It had the added bonus of people not making him talk unless he really wanted to, which had been a big benefit lately. Sometimes it seemed like the more he talked, the more angry people got instead of the other way around.

The rubbing stopped. “Hey. Are things still going okay with him? I only went back to pack up the important things in your workshop because you said you would be fine. Did something happen?”

“No,” Tony said, squirming until Rhodey started to rub again. He sighed into Rhodey’s chest, pathetically grateful that Rhodey was there. The meeting with Steve was looming in the back of his mind, not to mention the conversation that had taken place afterwards. He’d never meant to say those things to Bruce and Coulson, but now that he had he didn’t regret it because they were true.

Part of him really did believe that Bruce, Coulson and Fury would disappear again. Tony was a scientist, and the evidence didn’t lie. Fury had “died”. So had Coulson, because even though it was Fury’s decision to make the team believe that Coulson was dead, Coulson had still stayed away. And Bruce had packed a bag and left in the span of about one hour after Johannesburg; Tony hadn’t even realized he was gone until he’d walked into an empty room and saw the clothing Bruce hadn’t taken strewn across the bed.

Rhodey was the outlier to everyone who had left. Out of all the people in Tony’s life, Rhodey was the one person that he knew he could depend on 100% to always be there. His friendship with Pepper was still a little awkward, and he didn’t see Happy nearly as much since Tony had assigned him to be Pepper’s bodyguard. But Rhodey. Even when the military had Rhodey away on missions for months at a time, Tony always knew he would come back.

Ever since a frustrated nineteen-year-old had taken a gawky fifteen-year-old under his wing at MIT, Rhodey had been the constant.

He draped an arm across Rhodey’s chest and curled in closer, until his nose was tucked into Rhodey’s hair and his broken arm was cradled between their bodies. “Steve was here. He wanted to see me.”

“I know. Bruce says he’s still being his typical asshole self?”

“It wasn’t all him,” Tony admitted. “I was the one who brought up the letter.” He didn’t feel bad about it, either. It really hurt to realize that Steve didn’t even consider him worthy of a face-to-face apology – or barring that considering their fugitive status, one over the phone – or that Steve was expecting Tony to be the one to go crawling back. And it wasn’t just his pride that stung, either. He’d genuinely believed that Steve thought more of him than that.

But he was pretty sure that Steve had no idea that Tony was still hurt. Steve could be kind of dumb like that. And really. As though, even if Tony had forgiven him, they could go right back to living together in the tower and having everything be sunshine and roses? Yeah right. Things would never be that way again. Tony had finally accepted that, but Steve hadn’t.

Rhodey snorted. “Good. I hope you threw something at him.”

“I thought about it, but Coulson hustled him out of the room before I had the chance.”

“I wish I’d been there. I’d have punched him.”

“And broken your hand,” Tony said, smiling in spite of himself.

“What’s a broken hand between friends?”

“A price that’s too high to pay.”

“That’s for me to decide, not you.” Rhodey shifted a little. “Are you okay, Tones? I mean really.”

The sudden burning in his eyes made Tony curse under his breath. He tried to blink the tears back, but they came too hot and fast to handle. “I’m fine,” he choked out anyway, knowing that Rhodey wouldn’t believe him.

“Sure you are,” Rhodey said. “Does your arm hurt?”

“No,” Tony lied. He pouted when Rhodey sat up a little and reached over to the nightstand. He didn’t want to take the two painkillers that Rhodey presented him with, but he’d learned a long time ago that trying to say no when that look was on Rhodey’s face was pretty pointless. It would only end with Tony (carefully) pinned down and the two pills being pushed into his mouth. Reluctantly, he took the two pills, popped them in his mouth and then drank the sippy cup of water.

“There. Bruce said that’ll make you feel better,” Rhodey said, laying back down and patting his chest. Tony quickly resumed his spot. “You know, if you’re not happy here, we can figure something else out.”

“I’m kinda running out of people willing to put up with me,” Tony couldn’t help pointing out.

“More like you’re running out of people who aren’t assholes,” Rhodey corrected.

“Whatever. Maybe I should just head back –”

“Absolutely not.”

“Honeybear, I have to go back sometime,” Tony said. That knowledge was a heavy weight on his shoulders. He wanted to curl up and sob when he thought about having to face Ross again. Technically, he still didn’t have an official caretaker. He’d probably be reassigned to Talbot, and wasn’t that a terrifying thought? His stomach shriveled up every time he remembered the blank look on Talbot’s face when he’d broken Tony’s arm.

“True, but you don’t have to go back right away. Pepper and T’Challa are taking care of it, okay? Pepper’s telling everyone that you’re stepping back from the public eye for a couple of months. With how you’ve been looking lately, people are eating it up with a spoon.”

“I look fine,” Tony said, insulted.

Rhodey just looked at him for a moment, then continued as if Tony hadn’t spoken. “T’Challa is going to go to New York and stay there for a couple of weeks, if not longer. He’s more than capable of taking care of Ross so you can have a break. You need a break, man. I was starting to think that you were going to collapse on me at any second. That’s not a fun feeling to have.”

“I was fine,” Tony muttered stubbornly. Rhodey just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sure you were. Even though you hadn’t let yourself be little for months and you were barely eating or sleeping, and I know you cried every night because you missed Steve. But sure. You were fine.”

Tony flushed, embarrassed, not having known that Rhodey had heard him crying. He’d tried to keep his voice down as much as he could. Actually, he’d done his best not to cry at all. But that had proven to be impossible. Those first few weeks had been the worst; when Steve was around, all Tony had to do was let out one measly sob and his daddy was right there. Crying alone and having no one come to help was one of the loneliest experiences Tony had ever lived through.

“Hey.” Rhodey’s voice softened, and he rubbed Tony’s neck again. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. You have every right to cry, even if you weren’t a Little. I just meant that you really do need a vacation. Stay here. Relax. Forget about New York and Ross and the ex-Avengers for a while. Just let yourself be little.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? We’re safe here, or as safe as we can be on U.S. soil. T’Challa offered us a place in Wakanda if that –”

“I don’t have a caregiver. Not really. I’m not exactly a self-sufficient Little,” Tony said.

“You have Peter.”

“He’s a kid.”

Rhodey sighed. Instead of doing what everyone else was doing, which was trying to convince Tony that Peter’s age didn’t matter, he said, “You’re right. He is a kid. But this isn’t supposed to be a long-term solution, either. I know you; even if it was the best thing for you, you wouldn’t stay on vacation forever. So when you get back to New York, we’ll figure something else out. Find you another caretaker that you can trust. In the meantime, though, I think Peter’s a pretty good candidate, don’t you?”

“I… maybe?” Tony said. He hadn’t really thought about it like that.

“Is that a ‘maybe’ like you know I’m right and don’t want to admit it?”

“No. It’s a ‘maybe’ like I’ll think about it.”

“Uh-huh,” Rhodey said skeptically. “Well, think hard because I can tell you’re about five minutes away from sliding whether you want to or not. And I know how hard it is on you when you drop into your headspace unwillingly.”

“It’s not that easy,” Tony mumbled. “Steve…” His lungs felt too big for his chest when he tried to take a breath. “He left.” He couldn’t even put it into words: the fear that if he went into his little headspace, he might wake up to find that everyone was gone, that Bruce, Coulson and Fury had left and taken Peter with them.

“Oh,” Rhodey breathed, and he sounded so sad, because of course he understood what Tony was trying to get at. “Tony.” He pushed himself up so that he could look into Tony’s face. “I’ll stay, okay? I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave. I’ll make sure that you’re not left alone, okay?”

And that was a promise that Tony could actually believe. Rhodey wasn’t a caregiver, but he had taken care of Tony a handful of times. Even if everyone else took off, Rhodey would still be there and they’d muddle through somehow. He exhaled shakily and nodded, unable to speak.

“Okay,” Rhodey said, trying to smile. It fell flat, but he’d tried. “Do you want me to get Peter?”

Tony shook his head – not yet – and put his head back down on Rhodey’s chest. He’d spent so long forcing every bit of his little headspace away that, for a moment, he couldn’t even remember how to get back to it. It helped when Rhodey offered him a pacifier, which Tony gratefully accepted, and started to rub his back. He sucked slowly on the pacifier and tried to let go. Tried to relax.

He might have drifted a little; he woke up to the sound of hushed voices and a wet diaper between his legs, an uncomfortable feeling he’d never grown to like. Rhodey and Peter broke off their conversation the instant they noticed he was awake, both of them looking down at him. Tony blinked up at them. Their combined attention made him feel very little. He couldn’t decide whether to cry or smile.

“But you’re right,” Peter said, addressing Rhodey, only he was looking at Tony. “He is a wonder. A little wonder, huh?” He cooed at Tony, standing up and leaning over him. “You need your diaper changed, little guy.”

“I’ll pass you the bag,” said Rhodey. He was slower to stand than Peter, moving a little stiffly, but he bent down to pick up the diaper bag easily enough. He set it on the bed as Peter pulled Tony’s jeans off. Then Peter lifted Tony’s hips, allowing Rhodey to slide the plastic changing sheet underneath him. It wasn’t the way his daddy used to do it… but the actions themselves were comforting, and Tony found he didn’t mind that it was Peter doing it.

Still, he kept his eyes on Rhodey as Peter changed his diaper. Rhodey noticed and smiled at him, taking Tony’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I thought we could go outside and play in the yard for a while. Peter has a couple of new toys for you. But first, Uncle Bruce is making up a bottle for you,” he said. “Doesn’t that sound yummy?”

And the surprising thing was, it really did.