FIC: The Kids Weren't Alright (3/4)

[lettered]

Title: The Kids Weren’t Alright
Rating: PG
Length: this chapter: 13,000; total: 53,000
Characters: Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and Jane Foster. This is gen, but focuses on the relationships between Bruce/Tony, Bruce/Steve, Bruce/Natasha, with some Tony/Pepper, Tony/Steve, Natasha/Clint
Warning: deals with past child abuse (parts 2-4); offensive (including homophobic) language; really nonsensical use of science concepts, equipment, and terminology
Summary: Tony accidentally turns himself into a twelve-year-old using alien tech. Steve is stuck as bodyguard, Bruce is stuck trying to fix him, and Pepper is stuck trying to ward off a twelve-year old’s attempts at flirtation. And then things go from bad to worse.
A/N: Thanks as always to my_daroga, for listening.

This is the fourth story of the series Responsible Science. You don’t have to have read any of the previous stories to get this one.

This story is 4 parts long. It’s finished; I’m just editing. All should be posted within a week.

Go to: part 1 | part 2


part 3

When they got back to Stark Tower, Pepper and Steve went to go change. Tony stayed in the rec room, trying to tell Bruce all about how awesome Clint was. “He can swallow a whole knife,” Tony said, and tried to demonstrate. Actually there were sort of a lot of knives in here.

“You’re fired,” Natasha told Clint.

“Come on,” said Clint. “He’s twelve. That’s like . . . eight years older than he needs to be.”

Attention deprived, Bruce thought, as he watched Tony trying to put the knife in his mouth. That’s what this was called; that’s what teachers said sometimes when he got in fights. Whatever. So Tony’s dad worked too much and didn’t pay attention to him. Boo hoo. Get in line.

After that, Natasha said they were going to order pizza, and Tony argued (“That’s what we had last night; can we please just go to The Four Seasons”) until she agreed to get Indian. Then Pepper and Steve got back, and Clint tried to show them how to do back flips while Natasha went off somewhere to talk on the phone.

Tony was still trying to fill Bruce in on everything they had done while he had been shopping with Natasha. “And then we sparred,” said Tony. “I showed Steve all the moves.”

“He was a really good teacher,” Steve said.

Tony went pink and beamed at the same time. “You’re not so bad yourself,” said Tony. “Just remember when you grow up and are kicking a lot of ass, you learned it all from me.”

Steve smiled. “I did beat you once, remember.”

Tony blushed again, darting a look at Bruce. “Yeah, well,” he started to say, then coughed. He looked at Steve. “I remember. Good job.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Did you let him win?”

“Yes,” said Steve, but he was still smiling.

“Stop saying that,” Tony told Steve, looking earnestly pleased that Bruce had guessed the truth. “You totally got the better of me. You distracted me. You used strategy.”

Bruce was going to tell him that he was laying it on a little thick, but Steve smiled and said, “Well thanks,” and Tony beamed so goddamn incandescently that Bruce wasn’t going to ruin the moment or whatever. They could stand there and smile at each other all day; he didn’t care. And now Steve was asking Tony to maybe show him some more stuff, and Tony was trying and failing horrible to act modest, like he couldn’t tell Steve didn’t care about kung fu and was just asking to be nice. Whatever. Just whatever.

Then Natasha came over and said she had someone named Doctor Erik Selvig on the phone, and she wanted Tony and Bruce to come talk to him about what had happened. They went back to the lab, where there was this old guy on a clear panel television, who just stared at them in shock for a moment before saying, “Mister Stark and Doctor Banner, I presume?”

“’Doctor’?” said Bruce, perking up. “I mean, yes, sir.”

“He’s a doctor too,” Tony reminded Bruce. “Hey Erik. Can I call you Erik? Listen, I bet you have all kinds’ve questions. Lemme get Jarvis to fire up the video, and we’ll go from there. Jarvis, baby? Hit it.”

Tony talked for a while about what had happened, and Doctor Selvig asked a few questions, then Tony mentioned as to how Bruce had been testing the “cure” or whatever, and that was how they all got here. Tony went on talking after that, but Bruce didn’t really hear. Tony hadn’t mentioned this was Bruce’s fault before. He’d conveniently left that part out.

“Oh,” Tony was saying, when Bruce tuned in again. “Bruce’s got it worked out better’n me. You wanna take it away, sparky?”

“What?” Bruce said.

Tony nudged him. “Erik wants to know about the Flux Accelerator.”

“Oh,” said Bruce. “Yes, sir. I mean, Doctor. I mean.” Then Bruce tried to explain what he’d gotten from the notes left by his older self. It would’ve been a really good chance to sound really smart and articulate and way more adult than Tony, but Bruce kept thinking about how he’d messed it all up—even when he was an adult—and he kept kind of stumbling. When he explained the part about the twin paradox and traveling faster than light, Doctor Selvig started frowning.

“This doesn’t make sense,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Bruce said, looking at his feet.

Tony nudged him again. “It doesn’t make sense,” he said, “but it happened. Jarvis, forward Erik Hulk’s notes.”

“I’ve got them right here,” said Doctor Selvig. “The calculations are correct, and I’ve got to admit that both the equipment and the theory are brilliant, but in terms of—ah, ‘convincing’ the bonds in the body that the body’s particles are moving faster than light . . . this is pure science fiction.”

“Yeah,” said Tony, “but Hulk did it. He’s the smartest man alive.”

“Tony,” Bruce muttered.

“He is,” Tony insisted. “He showed me how it worked. I didn’t get all of it, but I know that he—”

“Shut up,” Bruce said, nudging him. Hard.

“What’s your problem?” Tony hissed.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Bruce glanced at the screen. He did not want to be having this conversation in front of an important scientist. “I got it wrong,” he said in an undertone.

“No, you didn’t,” said Tony. “Didn’t I tell you? I found the apple. It was a seed.”

“You did that part,” Bruce muttered, because Tony had been the one to reduce his own age. Bruce had just been the one to mistakenly do it to everyone else.

“Yeah, well,” said Tony. “That just means that I’m a genius too.” He turned back to Doctor Selvig. “Aliens attacked Manhattan. We’re living science fiction.”

“You have a point,” said Doctor Selvig. For a moment, he appeared to be thinking about it, and then he shook his head. “Miss Romanoff?”

“’Sup, Doc?” said Natasha, slipping the phone she’d been looking at into her back pocket and stepping forward.

“I’m afraid I need eyes on this,” Doctor Selvig said.

Natasha glanced at Tony and Bruce, then turned back to the screen. “Sooner would be better than later,” she said.

“I understand,” said Doctor Selvig. “It would take me two or three days to get to New York—”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. can have you here in twenty hours.”

“If that’s true,” said Doctor Selvig, “you could have a scientist of twice my worth there in five.”

“Foster,” said Natasha.

Doctor Selvig nodded. “With your permission, I’ll call her and forward her these notes.”

“Great,” said Natasha. “Tell her the jet’ll be there at seven.”

*

The food came and everyone argued and whined about what movie to watch while Bruce pretended like he didn’t care.

“You’d make everyone watch Pinocchio if I left it up to you,” said Natasha.

“Why not?” said Clint. “Best movie ever made.”

“Everyone’s already seen that,” said Tony.

“I haven’t,” said Steve.

“We want to watch a movie from the future,” said Pepper.

“Terminator II,” said Natasha.

“Way to be retro,” said Clint.

“I first saw it last year,” said Natasha. She crooked a finger at Tony. “He made me.”

“Oooh,” said Tony. “Did I tie you up?”

“It was one of the better ones,” said Natasha. “That, and Run Lola Run.”

“God,” said Clint, “are we really having this conversation again?”

“Nope,” said Natasha.

Instead they watched this Star Trek movie that was sort of like Star Trek, but with new people. There was this whole time travel alternate reality thing that was completely implausible, but otherwise it was okay.

After that Tony said he wanted to go swimming, and Steve said he didn’t know how.

“How could you not know how to swim?” said Tony.

Steve frowned at him. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” said Tony. “Maybe so you don’t drown?”

“It’s okay, Steve,” said Pepper. “I’ll teach you.”

Tony’s face instantly heated up. “I was going to teach him.”

Pepper raised her brows at him. “Then you should have said something, instead of being a jerk about it.”

Tony rounded on Steve. “Which of us do you want to teach you, Steve—Pepper or me?”

“Um,” said Steve. “Are you going swimming, Bruce?”

“Swimming is lame,” said Bruce, who didn’t know how to swim either. He wasn’t about to tell Tony that, and anyway, he couldn’t think of anything he would less rather do. Bruce didn’t have anything showing—he’d checked when he’d changed—but even when he didn’t, he didn’t even like changing for gym. Besides, getting wet for no reason and pointlessly going in circles sounded way less interesting than checking out the Flux Accelerator some more.

Tony argued with him for a while, but eventually he, Pepper and Steve went down to the pool (why did this building even have a pool, anyway, Bruce thought) and Natasha stayed up in the lab with Bruce. “I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Bruce tried to tell her, but she’d just smiled.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I like you better anyway.”

She was obviously just saying that, but it made him feel kind of nice, in an uncomfortable way. Bruce had told the others that the shopping was boring (and that there weren’t any hover cars). They hadn’t asked again why he got to go and they didn’t. Maybe Clint had warned them about him or something.

Bruce didn’t really care.

Later Pepper and Tony came back up to the lab, wearing more new clothes, their hair wet. Actually, when Bruce thought about it, they kind of looked like movie stars too—just very young ones: Pepper with her hair long and neatly combed, wearing a little yellow sundress or whatever that Natasha had given her; Tony with his big, shit-eating grin and stupid pants. Of course, Bruce had nice pants now too, but they made him feel like a dork. He knew he didn’t wear them like Tony, who looked like they’d been made for him. Tony and Pepper made Bruce wish he didn’t have to look at them, so he didn’t.

Tony strode right up to Bruce, sliding his hands easily into his pockets. “What’s the buzz,” he said, “tell me what’s happenin’.”

Bruce closed some of the files he’d been looking at. He didn’t really want Tony to know he’d been reading about Iron Man part of the time. For one thing, Bruce already knew Tony was the type to get a big head. Glancing up, Bruce saw that Pepper was on another computer, and Natasha was still on her phone. Clint and Steve weren’t around.

Following his gaze, Tony said, “Natasha, huh? Yeah, totally a babe. It’s okay if you like ‘em older. Not really my style, but—”

“Did you teach Steve to swim?” Bruce asked.

“Yep.” Tony bounced on the balls of his feet, then rocked back on his heels. “He’s a regular Spitz. What did you do?”

“I thought Pepper wanted to teach him.”

“Actually, we kind of both did. Tickle it, Bruce,” he said, because Bruce was having trouble getting a part of the display to expand. “Here.” He tickled it and of course it worked for him. “Clint showed us how to do these different dives. Steve almost drowned like eight times, but I saved him. I was sort of hoping Pepper might almost drown so I could give her mouth-to-mouth, but she didn’t. She’s a fantastic swimmer.” Tony rocked on his heels again. “She wore a two-piece, you know. You should have come.”

“Whatever,” said Bruce.

Tony glanced to the other side of the lab. “Wanted to see Natasha in a two-piece? Is that it?”

“No.”

“Then what gives, man? Why are you so—”

“So what?” Bruce demanded.

Tony just shrugged. “Heavy.”

“I’m not heavy,” Bruce said, even though he didn’t really know what Tony meant by that.

“Yeah,” said Tony. “What’re you doing?”

Still fiddling with the display, Bruce just said, “Where is Steve, anyway?”

Tony shrugged. “Said he had to ‘rest before supper’. Can you believe that guy?”

“What about Pepper?”

“What about Pepper?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you go bug her?”

For a moment, Tony just looked at him. “Because I’m bugging you,” he said finally.

Bruce tried to think of something that would make him go away, but the only thing he could think of was, “Well, don’t.” He reached out for another panel on the Flux Accelerator, but it wouldn’t come.

Then Tony tickled it, and it went. “I lied, you know,” he said.

Bruce glanced up at him. Tony’s eyes were locked on him, his gaze solid and so still that Bruce looked away.

“When I said that no one liked you when you were grown up,” Tony said. “They both liked you. Pepper liked you, and she’s supposed to be my girlfriend. And Steve—he liked you best.”

“Steve is Captain America,” Bruce said, hating how thick and dull that sounded.

“Yeah. He was.” Bruce wasn’t looking at him, but he could tell when Tony dropped his gaze. “He was even better in person than he was in all the—” he waved a hand—“legend and hoopla. You know what they always say he was: big, strong, handsome, righteous to the core. They also forgot to mention he was really fucking nice, but it was different with you.”

“What?” said Bruce, startled into swallowing hard.

“Yeah. With you, he was more than just nice. It was like . . .” Tony swallowed also, looking down at his shoes. “He’d get this special look, you know? Like he wanted to make things better for you. Like he wished the whole world could be better for you—like he wanted to make it that way.”

“But . . . he’s Captain America,” Bruce said stupidly.

“And what are you, moldy cottage cheese?” Something ticked in Tony’s jaw, and the hands in his pockets were fists. “I’m telling you, you were, you know, best friends. You always looked tired, but when you looked at him, you weren’t. It was—you know, you made each other stronger.”

Bruce could tell that Tony was trying to tell him something. There was something he wasn’t quite saying, something he wanted Bruce to understand, and Bruce didn’t know what it was.

Tony slipped his hands in his pockets again. “It this super-secret club with just the two of you.”

“So you’re saying Captain America and me were faggots?”

Tony flinched, a flush spilling over his cheeks, just as though he’d been slapped. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Bruce knew he’d hit a nerve, and he didn’t know quite how or why he’d done it, just that he’d been sure Tony had been making fun of him, and now he was really sure he hadn’t been. “Were you jealous?” he asked, because he was an asshole and he wanted to make sure Tony knew it.

“Whatever,” Tony said, whirling around. “What the fuck ever. You’re not even worth it.”

*

Later Natasha ordered cheeseburgers and Clint showed them how to make animals out of the paper wrappings. Bruce thought it was dumb, but he didn’t say anything; Tony thought it was dumb and said so. He was touchy with everyone and kept saying he wanted to go out, and that if Clint and Natasha were any good, they would have let him go outside because it wouldn’t matter where he was, if they were so ‘highly trained in weapons and defense,’ like Jarvis had said.

“We are highly trained,” said Natasha. “We’re just not babysitters.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Clint. “Now, whoever burps the loudest gets a prize.”

Pepper got a little paper swan for all her trouble. “Maybe my prize should be I get to go outside,” she said.

“Clever,” said Clint.

“No,” was all Natasha said.

“Whenever you’re considering a life of espionage, call me,” Clint told Pepper, making a phone gesture with his hand and wagging it by his hear. “I got the hook ups.”

Natasha snorted. “Sometimes I find it hard to believe you even exist.”

“Whenever we have kids she’s going to make a terrible father,” said Clint.

Steve looked interested. “Are you married?”

Scowling, Clint leaned back in his chair. “You know? I can’t remember. Natasha, are we married?”

“You’re going to make someone a lovely housewife one day,” said Natasha.

“Whatever,” said Tony, crumpling his paper into a ball. He threw it at the trashcan, missed, and turned to walk away. “I’m going to find a video game or something.”

“What’s his problem?” Pepper wanted to know.

Steve looked out after him, then turned back to the table. “May I please be excused?” he asked.

“Stop asking things like that,” said Natasha.

“What she means is, yes,” said Clint.

“Thank you, sir,” said Steve, pushing away from the table. He hurried out after Steve.

“That boy should eat his victuals,” said Clint, then reached over, grabbed the rest of Steve’s hamburger, shoved it in his mouth. Wiping his hands on a napkin, he stood up. “I’ll go see what they’re up to,” he said, mouth still half-full.

“I’m sure there’s a sitcom like this,” Natasha said.

“Family Ties,” said Pepper.

“Something like that,” said Natasha. “Let’s watch something with a lot of blood and guts.”

*

Kill Bill was okay. Bruce liked the girl in it. Steve had a lot of questions about it, but after a while he stopped asking them. At first Bruce thought it was because Steve had decided it was an awful movie, but later he realized Steve was asleep. Natasha just let him, while Pepper seemed torn between thinking the movie was fascinating and absolutely appalling.

Tony didn’t watch it with them; he was off having a sulk somewhere, and Bruce guessed Clint had to keep an eye on him. Maybe Tony was just having a good time with his brand new dad or whatever. Bruce didn’t care.

He didn’t understand what Tony was so mad about anyway. He’d twisted Tony’s arm and pushed him around, and later Tony acted like nothing had happened, but oh no, make fun of Captain America and Tony was totally all up in arms. Bruce didn’t see what the big deal was. He got called a faggot all the time, because he was smaller than all the kids he went to school with and because they were all dumb fucking dipshits. So what. It was just a name.

Before the movie was over, Clint came down with Tony. Bruce guessed Natasha had texted him to come get Steve—he’d found out about texting when they ate, because Tony’s phone kept getting texts.

Tony just hovered in the doorway while Clint went over to Steve. “Bedtime for Bonzo,” he said, in a low, murmuring voice, then scooped Steve up in his arms. Then he left, and Natasha turned off the TV, saying they had a scientist to meet.

Jane Foster, the scientist, was far younger and far prettier than Bruce had expected. “Oh, wow,” she said, when they walked in with Natasha.

“Back atcha,” said Tony. He sauntered up, and stuck out his hand. “I’m Tony. AKA Iron Man. I don’t know if we’ve ever met, but if we have, my future’s looking up.”

She shook his hand. “It’s really you. I mean—we haven’t met. But—it’s really you.” She just kept shaking his hand.

“In the flesh,” said Tony.

“Wow. That’s just—wow.”

Tony puffed up. “That’s what they all say.”

“Can I—” Letting go of his hand, she reached out to touch Tony’s chest, and Tony’s jumped.

“Hey, whoa, this is moving a little fast, usually I wait until at least the first date, but okay, I’m easy—”

“This is incredible,” Foster said, poking at Tony’s sternum.

“I’ll say,” said Tony, blushing.

Foster turned away—it was actually sort of like she forgot him. “And you’re Doctor Banner. Wow.” She stuck out her hand. “This is really great.”

Bruce looked over at Natasha, who was just watching, so Bruce shook Foster’s hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Foster said. “Weird under these circumstances, but I really admire your work.” She was still shaking his hand. “Do you still—you know—” she made a little face, then dropped his hand in order to wave her arms crazily—“grrrr-aaaaargh?”

“Um,” said Bruce, then looked at Natasha again for help.

“He doesn’t,” said Natasha, her voice flat. “Miss Foster, can we—”

“Jane,” Foster said, her own voice absent. “I’m sorry. This is just—Pepper Potts, right? Jane Foster.” Foster sort of seemed to forget she was shaking people’s hands; once she started doing it, she just kept on doing it. “I really admire Stark Industries’ work on green energy. And the Foundation’s recent contributions to contraceptive distribution. I feel like it’s a real humanitarian direction for—I’m sorry. Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

Pepper smirked, which was weird, if you asked Bruce. Her brow also went up, but she kept on shaking Foster’s hand, and all she said was, “Twelve.”

“Uh-huh. Foster finally dropped her hand and turned to Bruce. “And you?”

“Twelve,” said Bruce.

“And you’re twelve,” Foster said to Tony.

Tony lifted his chin. “I act much older than my age.”

Foster glanced at Natasha. “It wasn’t that I didn’t believe it . . .” She turned back to Bruce, Tony, and Pepper. “I wonder if we calculated your ages to the day—it’s fascinating, because if the device is set to fold a specific mass, then—is Steve Rogers twelve as well?”

“Yes,” said Tony. “I can answer any questions about Steve. He and I have grown very close with time.” Lifting his chin again, he steadfastly didn’t look at Bruce.

“Like I thought,” said Foster. “He would have been much older than you, according to the differential in his own size, so obviously the mass removed is proportionate, rather than—but you’re obviously not the same size, either. You didn’t even deage the same number of years, since—what year is it?”

Pepper smirked some more. “2013.”

“I’m 1979,” said Bruce.

“’77,” said Tony. “I’m the oldest.”

“And what’s the last day you remember?” said Foster.

“Yeah, that’s where it starts to get a little hazy,” said Tony.

“I think it was April,” said Pepper. “Maybe May?”

Bruce had tried to remember what had been happening right before he woke up here, but it had seemed hazy, like Tony had said. He had really distinct memories of going to school and doing homework, Dad coming home from work and brushing his teeth in the morning, but it felt like . . . last week sometime, like there were a couple days—maybe weeks—that were unaccounted for. Like someone had reached in his head and swirled it around.

“Hulk did tests on me,” said Tony. “I’m sure the results are around here somewhere.”

“I did tests on you?” Bruce said, turning to him in surprise.

Tony didn’t even look at him. His voice was icy when he said, “I said Hulk did tests on me. Because I let him.”

“But the brains’ mass can’t have changed that much,” Foster said. She was still looking at them the way you would look at a jigsaw. Or maybe animals in a zoo. “The volume of grey matter peaks before the age of twenty. Or so I’m told. We could ask a physiologist, but—”

“Ask Jarvis,” said Tony.

“The volume of total cerebral and gray matter does peak between the ages of ten and twenty,” said Jarvis, “but white matter and ventricular volume may continue to increase with age.”

“Is that—is that AI?” said Jane. She had a look of wonder on her face. “My God, this tech.” Walking farther into the lab, she looked around. “Wow, this makes me hate S.H.I.E.L.D. even more. I mean, no offense,” she said, glancing at Natasha and Clint, “but they have this dickly habit of stealing research and cutting me out of important work.”

“Fury, dickly?” said Clint. He made a blank, innocent face. “He would never.”

“If we could get to the point,” said Natasha.

“Yeah, sorry,” said Foster, but didn’t look very sorry. Instead, she still looked sort of in awe, turning away from Clint and Natasha and looking around her again. “Jarvis?” she asked.

“Doctor Banner does have some calculations concerning Mister Stark’s age and mass reduction,” said Jarvis.

“Incredible,” said Jane, shaking her head. “It’s a good thing Darcy isn’t here. She would not be able to shut up about this. What’s your voice protocol software like?”

Jarvis started talking to her about his software and systems, so Bruce turned to Tony, because he hadn’t said anything in a while.

“Don’t you think she’s a babe?” Bruce said in an undertone.

“Hey, Pepper,” said Tony, and deliberately moved away from him. “So, what do you think? Can Jane make you my girlfriend again, or what?”

“Is that really what you’re looking forward to?” said Pepper, though she was smiling a little. “Being my boyfriend?”

“And all that hot sex,” said Tony. “Also, did I mention I’m Iron Man?”

Bruce clenched his hands into fists, then shoved them into his pockets. He felt like such an idiot.

Foster was talking to Jarvis about the Flux Accelerator now, and Bruce listened in. At first it was all really basic stuff, easy to understand, and then they moved into some of the stuff that had been in the notes of his older self. Bruce understood some of the theory and calculations, and he’d been over all of the parts of the Flux Accelerator, but then they got into some of the stuff about how it actually worked, and Bruce felt a little lost.

“I can show you that part,” Tony said suddenly. “Hulk showed it to me.”

He sauntered over to the holodesk and flicked on the images. “This is called the Flux Accelerator.”

“Oh my God,” said Jane, “a volumetric display.”

“I know,” said Tony. “Pretty wicked, right?”

“This is—” She reached her hand right into the display. When she pulled it out, a volumetric panel followed. “This is better than Star Wars. Where does Stark even get all this? The best labs I’ve ever seen don’t have this.”

Tony puffed up again. “I’m sure I invented it.”

“Jarvis,” said Foster. “Where are the lasers? Is there an ionization field bending the light, or is there some kind of electromagnetic field? Or are there actual voxels involved?"

While Jarvis started explaining the holodesk, Natasha went to go talk on her phone, and Clint started looking at a tablet or whatever. Tony looked like he wanted to contribute to the conversation going on between Jarvis and Foster, but didn’t quite know what to say for once.

“She’s really easily distracted,” said Pepper, nodding at Foster.

“I noticed,” said Bruce.

Pepper turned to him, looking him over. “What did you do to Tony?”

“What?” said Bruce, stiffening. “I didn’t do anything.”

Shrugging, Pepper said, “He’s really upset, whatever you did.”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Bruce.

Pepper turned back to watch Foster poke at the volumetric images. “We could be friends,” she said. At first Bruce thought she was talking about Foster. “But we can’t be if you hurt my friends.”

I don’t care, Bruce wanted to say, but somehow couldn’t, because then she would think he didn’t care.

“Tony might be kind of a dipstick,” said Pepper, still not looking at him, “but only because he’s trying so hard to pretend he doesn’t care.”

Bruce wanted to say he already knew that; he saw right through Tony, because didn’t everyone; he was such a show-off and a whiner and pretty much the coolest person Bruce had ever met. He really was incredibly smart—not as smart as Bruce but he knew so much, and Bruce didn’t know why, but Tony had tried to be his friend. Bruce didn’t know what to do.

“Just say you’re sorry,” said Pepper, as if reading his thoughts. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s a bit of a soft touch.”

“He is not,” said Bruce.

“Oh, so you’re defending him now.” Raising her brows, Pepper smiled. “That’s interesting.”

I’m not defending him, Bruce wanted to say, but again felt tongue-tied. He didn’t want her to think he wasn’t defending him; he just didn’t want to admit that he was. Glancing around the room again, Bruce’s gaze landed on Clint, and he remembered what Clint had said about Pepper and espionage. Pepper was slippery, Bruce decided.

Foster was back to talking about the Flux Accelerator, Jarvis and Tony periodically contributing to her analysis. Bruce went over there with him. Not to say he was sorry or anything. Just because it was interesting. While Jarvis was talking, Foster reached out for the reactor to see inside of it.

“You have to tickle it,” said Bruce. He looked toward Tony, but wasn’t able to quite meet his eyes. “Like a Chihuaha.”

“A Chihuaha,” said Foster, but she tickled it and it came. “What’s the superconductor; is it—”

“Vibranium,” said Bruce. “I found Tony’s—I mean, grown-up Tony’s schematics for it. Here.” He went to go use the keyboard, calling up the file he’d found. “It’s pretty neat. I mean, really neat. I think he must be really smart.” Tilting his head, he was going to look at Tony again, but just couldn’t. “He’s probably a genius. See, it keeps the plasma in place with these magnetic fields—”

“Right, so we’ve got some hydrogen fusion going on,” said Foster. “Mini-sun, right in your chest. Jarvis, call up the output for this puppy. I wanna run those calculations for the acceleration field again, since that’s an obvious place we went wrong here.”

Tony was looking at the reactor schematics, then pretending like he wasn’t whenever Bruce glanced his way. Leaving the schematics up, Bruce moved away from them so Tony could look, but instead Foster moved in and started touching the display, switching it instead to a bunch of equations.

Bruce pulled up the schematics again on a clear tablet, and handed it to Tony. “If you wanted to look at it,” he said, not quite meeting Tony’s eyes.

Tony didn’t say anything, but he took it.

Bruce messed around on another tablet for a little while. “This one is cool too,” he said, when he thought maybe he wouldn’t sound desperate. “It’s a car you built. You wanna see?”

“Okay,” said Tony, putting down his tablet.

“I can send it to you,” Bruce said. “Like this.” He slid the schematics for the car into a little box, then picked up Tony’s tablet and slid them out of the box. “It’s like a message thing,” he explained.

Tony looked at the car.

“And I found stuff about your robots,” Bruce went on.

Looking up, Tony shook back his hair. “I built a robot. I mean, I’m building one. It’s named Dummy. Old-me improved it but I started it.”

“That’s cool,” said Bruce.

“Yeah,” said Tony, smiling a little. “Lemme see if I can find it.”

Then he came to stand near Bruce. Maybe he just forgot the message box thing, but Bruce didn’t mind at all because Tony started pointing at things over his shoulder and telling him to do things, and Bruce decided not to mind that either. He could feel Tony’s breath on his ear, and Tony kept telling him about his robots and all the stuff he was doing. It was really cool.

Meanwhile, Foster was talking to Jarvis and messing around with the Flux Accelerator display, while Natasha and Clint were doing whatever on tablets. Pepper was doing something on one of the computers, but eventually she came over to Bruce and Tony. “What are you doing?” she said.

“Important science things.” Tony smirked. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Sure,” said Pepper. “Did you know a Black guy is President?”

“What?” said Tony. “Far out.”

“I know, for real,” said Pepper. “And the USSR doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Wait, what?” said Tony. “Did the Russians—”

“No,” said Bruce. “It dissolved. And there’s no Berlin Wall, either.”

“Wicked,” said Tony. “Wait, how do you know?”

“Natasha told me,” said Bruce, and then they talked about the future—or history, whatever—for a little while.

Tony was getting this very pleased, know-it-all type look on his face, just like everything was going his way. He kept looking at Pepper and then at Bruce and smirking, his face all pink but not at all like it had been when Bruce had said Captain America was a faggot. Tony caught him looking, and knocked Bruce’s shoulder with his own. “Hey brewski, you never got to see my huge robotic arm. Wanna come with me? It’s huge.”

“Oh my God,” said Pepper. “You are so immature.”

“What?” said Tony, his voice innocent. “It is huge. It got, you know, even bigger when I grew up. Whaddya say, Bruce? Can you dig it?”

“Okay,” said Bruce, and they went to go look at Tony’s huge robotic arm.

*

Natasha came with them to the shop, and Tony showed Bruce around. Tony pretty much was just showing off, but Bruce acted like he didn’t mind it, and anyway, some of the machines were really interesting. When they came back up, Pepper was talking to Clint and Foster was still working with Jarvis and the holodesk. Tony said he was going to go to bed, which Bruce found pretty weird.

“Tired,” Tony announced. “Need my beauty sleep. So, I’m off to bed! Anyone coming?”

Bruce frowned at him, then looked over at Natasha. “Do we have to go to bed?” he said.

She made a face like he was a little bit crazy. “What? I don’t care.”

“For real,” said Pepper, “you don’t want to stay up?”

“No,” said Tony, in a pointed sort of way. “I think I need to be alone and go to sleep, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Pepper.

“I know what you mean,” said Clint. “Go to bed. All of you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barton,” said Natasha.

Clint just shrugged. “Sorry, man,” he said to Tony. “I tried.”

Pepper scowled at Clint. “What does he mean?”

“What?” said Clint. “I have no idea.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Tony said.

“No,” said Pepper. “Not really.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Bruce? Isn’t it, you know, past our bedtimes?”

Bruce felt a little helpless. He’d sort of been agreeing with everything Tony said since Tony forgave him, but he didn’t know what Tony meant and he really wasn’t tired. “I thought maybe . . .” He glanced at Natasha, who wasn’t paying attention, and then at Foster, who definitely wasn’t paying attention. “I mean, don’t you want to help Miss Foster?”

“No, I don’t want to help Miss Foster; I want to go to bed.”

“Well, okay,” said Bruce. “I mean, if you’re tired.”

Tony rolled his eyes again. “Oh my God. Check you losers later.”

“Whatever,” said Pepper.

“Um, good night,” said Bruce.

*

Thirty minutes after Tony went to bed, Bruce’s phone made a sound. Pepper’s phone made a sound also. When Bruce took it out, a little bar across the front said, 1 Text, Tony Stark. When he touched it, the phone said this:

Since you losers appear to be ignorant re: the idea of *secret slumber party*, I guess we have to do it this way

Suddenly, Bruce understood why Tony had wanted to go to bed. Bruce had never been to a slumber party, but he knew it was something other kids did. What he didn’t understand was where Tony had even gotten a phone, because the one Bruce had was Tony’s. He’d been getting messages on it all day.

In case you haven’t noticed, la femme is hellbent on following us *everywhere*

This is the *only* way we can play truth or dare in peace

Bruce also knew other kids played Truth or Dare. Even though he’d never really been interested, the fact that he was being invited to play sort of made him want to play.

While he was trying to think of what to say in response, Tony texted:

No I don’t want to make out I texted bruce too

Besides I have steve…meet me next to my huuuuuuuuuuuuuuge robot arm if you want him to live

Figuring out how to reply, Bruce laboriously typed “Ok” and hit send. Almost immediately, the reply came through:

Yesssssssssssssssssss b I knew u were cool tell p she’s a dork

Across the lab, Pepper stretched. “I’m getting tired,” she said, walking over to Clint and Natasha. “I think maybe I will go to bed.”

“Me too,” Bruce said, getting up quickly.

Natasha was doing something on a tablet. “Have fun at your secret slumber party,” she said.

“Nat, you suck,” said Clint. “I set up some beds in the penthouse.”

“How did you know?” said Pepper.

Natasha glanced at Clint, and then rolled her eyes. “Know what?”

Frowning, Pepper crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t pretend like you don’t know, now that we know you know.”

“What’s she talking about?” said Clint. “I thought everyone was just getting tired and wanted to go to bed.”

“Here’s what you need to know about alcohol,” said Natasha. “If you drink too much on any empty stomach you’re just going to be miserable later, and I’m not cleaning up any vomit.”

“Have fun,” said Clint.

*

Tony had indeed brought alcohol, and also Steve, who was in pajamas and looked rather sleepy.

“I don’t even know how to play Truth or Dare,” Steve said.

“You don’t have to know,” said Tony. “There aren’t any rules.”

“Clint and Natasha know we’re here,” said Pepper.

“Pepper,” said Tony. “At least allow me my illusions.”

Pepper shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“They really are Big Brother,” said Tony. He spread a blanket out on the floor, and put the glass decanter of brown liquid in the middle of it. Then he sat on one corner, and started distributing short, tiny glasses—who knew where he’d gotten them from. Bruce, who had never done anything like this before, sat down on another corner. He wasn’t going to say anything, but this was totally cool.

“You should go first,” said Pepper, sitting on her own corner. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” said Tony. “And every time someone successfully does a dare, you have to take a shot.”

“You said there weren’t any rules,” said Steve, and yawned. He had sat down in his corner, but that almost instantly turned to sprawling in his corner, his legs spread out in front of him and his head cradled in his hands. He looked like he was going to fall asleep any minute.

“There aren’t,” said Tony. “You only do a shot if you’re cool.”

“Fine,” said Steve. “I’m not cool.”

“No,” said Tony, sounding a little anxious, “you only do a shot if you want to play with us. So, you do a shot.”

“I don’t want a shot,” said Steve.

“Yes, you do,” said Tony, still sounding anxious. “It makes you cool.”

Steve yawned again. “I told you, I don’t care about being cool.”

“Yes, you do,” Tony said again. “Everyone cares about being cool. Come on.”

“I don’t care about being cool,” said Pepper. “And anyway, it’s a moot point. You’re not going to do my dare.”

Tony put his nose in the air. “Maybe I would, if you said what it was.”

Pepper smirked. “I dare you not to disrespect me this whole game.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony said, “That’s not a dare.”

“Yes it is,” said Pepper.

“No it isn’t.”

Pepper leaned back on her hands, her legs out in front of her on the blanket. “How is that not a dare? I think it’s a pretty good one.”

“No, it’s not. That’s a fucking rule, not a dare.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t do my dare,” said Pepper.

“I can do it,” said Tony, “I’m just not going to. It’s a lame dare. You can’t dare that.”

“Yes I can,” said Pepper.

Steve cracked open an eye. “You said there weren’t any rules.”

“Unless you do a lame dare,” said Tony. He looked around at everyone. Bruce just shrugged, and Tony turned big eyes onto Pepper. “Come on, Pep. That’s such a dumb dare.”

“Because you can’t do it,” said Pepper.

“Fine,” said Tony. “Everyone take a shot.”

“You haven’t done it yet,” Steve pointed out, not even opening his eyes this time.

“Yes, I have,” said Tony. “I’m not disrespecting anyone. See? No disrespect.”

“For the whole game,” said Pepper.

“No shots until the end,” said Steve.

Tony turned to Bruce. “Why are we even playing Truth or Dare with them? They’re a complete drag.”

Bruce shrugged, smiling a little, because Tony was kidding around and totally including him. “I dunno,” he said. “You invited them.”

“Fine,” said Tony. “Pepper. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Tony boggled. “Really?”

Pepper just shrugged. “Why not?”

“Fine,” Tony said again. “I dare you to . . . kiss one of us.” He smirked, like he’d thought of something really good.

“Fine,” said Pepper. Getting to her knees, she leaned across the blanket. Steve opened his eyes, presumably to watch, while Tony closed his eyes and puckered up his lips. Pepper brushed her mouth right over Steve’s.

“Oh,” said Steve, scrambling back, his eyes comically wide.

“Hey,” said Tony. “What the hell?”

Then Pepper leaned in again, and Steve, sort of seeming dazed, let her come. It was way more intense that time, like Pepper was frenching him or something, and Steve closed his eyes, and sort of put his hands on her shoulders. Bruce looked away, because he always felt weird when people kissed like that, like his skin was too tight, or like—

“What the fuck,” said Tony, “I didn’t say make-out with—ugh! Stop! Stop it!”

Pepper pulled away, and there was an audible smack. “What?”

Bruce looked again, and Steve’s cheeks were bright pink, his lips red and glossy. His big blue eyes were blinking, and Bruce looked away.

“Wow,” said Steve.

“Yeah,” said Pepper.

“That was . . .” Steve trailed off. He was still beet red.

“Yeah,” Pepper said again. “Tony says we go steady. I’m not sure I even believe him, but you know, if we ever break up . . .”

“What the fuck?” said Tony. “What the flying fuck?”

“Go steady?” said Steve.

“It means—”

“I know what going steady means,” Steve told Pepper. “I just meant . . . you go steady with him?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Apparently. Like we can believe anything he says.”

“I didn’t lie,” said Tony. “You can check the fucking internet if you—”

“Take a chill pill,” said Pepper.

Tony scowled at her. “I didn’t make it up. You like me. You want to do me. You—”

“Whatever,” said Pepper. “Now let’s do shots.”

Bruce had never done a shot before. He was pretty sure Dad would kill him if he ever touched alcohol, but Pepper had taken the glass stopper out of the decanter and was pouring a round.

“Sure you don’t want one, Steve?” she asked.

“Um.” Steve’s face was still pink, his lips shiny, and he couldn’t meet her eyes. “Maybe a little,” he said.

“Cool,” she said, not quite pouring him a full one.

“Okay, fine,” said Tony, taking his. “Now, you got to make sure you take a deep breath, tip it back and—” He stopped because Pepper started coughing.

“Burns,” she wheezed, dropping her empty glass on the blanket. She waved her hand in front of her throat. “Burns!”

“I was going to tell you,” Tony started saying in an uppity voice. “If you had listened—

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, abandoning his own glass and leaning forward to pat Pepper on the back.

Squinching his eyes shut, Bruce held his breath and drank his own shot. Pepper was right—it burned, and he couldn’t drink it all, but he was trying really hard not to cough.

“Oh my God,” said Tony. “That’s my girlfriend. Steve! Stop touching my girlfriend!”

Face still pink, Steve looked at him with wide eyes. “I just wanted . . .” He looked back at Pepper, who had her hand on his shoulder. “I just wanted to see if she was okay,” he said, and started pulling away.

“No,” said Pepper, and pulled him back. “Thank you.” She squeezed his arm, then let him go, and Steve went to sit back in his place.

Tony glared at him. “You guys are a bunch of—Bruce, man, what the hell? Why did you drink yours without me?”

“I didn’t know we couldn’t drink without you,” said Bruce.

“You guys suck at Truth or Dare,” said Tony, then tossed back his shot. He didn’t cough or anything, and he drank the whole thing, though at the end he made an ugly face and stuck out his tongue. “Yeah, that’s the stuff. Steve, you gotta drink if you’re gonna feel up my girl, dude.”

“I’m not your girl, and you lost your dare,” said Pepper.

“What,” said Tony, “I didn’t direspect you; you are—”

“For the guy who wanted to play, you sure hold up the game,” said Pepper. “Hey Steve.” She smiled. “Truth or dare?”

“Steve didn’t even drink yet,” said Tony, frowning.

“You don’t have to drink anything,” said Pepper.

“That’s okay,” said Steve. He picked up the glass and swallowed down its contents. “I think I’ll do truth.” They all looked at him and he looked back at them. “What?” he said finally.

Pepper’s brow furrowed. “Um. Steve, have you had alcohol before?”

Steve frowned back. “Yes, haven’t y— . . .” He looked around at all of them. “They give it to me sometimes when I have a cough. They don’t do that anymore? I thought it was good for you.”

“Boy,” said Tony. “I wish I lived in your time. I always have to steal it.”

“You steal—” Steve began, and Tony flapped his hand at him.

“You picked truth, not me. So, tell us. Who was your first kiss?”

Heating up again, Steve looked at the floor.

“What was that?” said Tony. “We couldn’t hear.”

“Pepper,” Steve said.

Putting her hand over her mouth, Pepper made a little oh sound. “Steve,” she said through her fingers. Her eyes were wide and concerned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I should have—”

Steve kept looking at the blanket, getting redder and redder. “It was nice,” he said.

“But I should have—”

“I said it was nice,” said Steve. “As far as kisses go, it was—” He slid a glance at Tony, then looked at Pepper and for some reason, Bruce. “Is this really such a big deal? You just did it on a dare, and you’re not—” His gaze dropped again. “I don’t think you’re fast, so—”

“Fast?” Tony scowled. “Who said anything about Pepper being fast? She’s not fast. Pepper isn’t fast. I’ve been going at her all day, and she isn’t—”

“Shut up,” said Pepper.

Steve’s gaze remained fixed on the blanket. “No one I knew ever kissed someone on a dare,” he said quietly.

Pepper made her oh sound again, her eyes huge and luminous. “I didn’t mean—”

“Welcome to the backwards era of unfree love,” said Tony. “I take back what I said. I am so glad I was born in the sixties.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.” Pepper put a piece of her hair behind her ear. “It’s not such a big deal to—I mean, people do it—girls—oh my God.” She put her hand over her mouth again. “I bet all the girls always wear dresses, too, didn’t they.”

“No,” said Steve. “Sometimes they wear skirts. Honestly, it’s fine. I’m glad that—that . . . I mean, Miss Romanoff seems very intelligent and successful, and Tony says the new scientist Miss Foster is—is very accomplished—”

“I told him she was foxy to the max.” Tony nudged Bruce. “Isn’t that right, Bruce?”

“Yeah,” Bruce said.

“I’m sure it’s very different for you. Oh crap!” Pepper covered her mouth again. “My bathing suit! Was it—was it shocking?”

“I thought it was nice,” said Steve.

“I’m just going to keep thinking of things,” said Pepper. “Now it’s—it’s so different. I mean, a woman went into space.”

“A girl went to space?” said Tony.

“Also,” Bruce told Steve, “we went to space.”

“We already told him all the important things like that,” Tony told Bruce. “But seriously. A girl?”

Pepper crossed her arms. “The feminist movement is an important thing,” Pepper told him. I was just—distracted.”

“Whatever,” said Tony. “Bruce, your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Um.” Bruce didn’t look around at any of them. He’d been thinking about this: if he picked dare, they could make him do something humiliating, but if he picked truth, he might have to tell them something he didn’t want to. That was the whole point of the game of course—and why Bruce never would have played it with pretty much any other kids he’d ever met before. But it was Tony and besides, Pepper and Steve wouldn’t let him do anything really mean. Besides, Bruce could always just lie, so finally he looked up and said, “Truth.”

Tony’s question came immediately. “Why did you get to go with Natasha?”

“Wh-what?” Bruce said. He looked around at Pepper and Steve, but they didn’t seem to think it was such a bad question. Bruce had come up with plenty of horrible embarrassing things they could ask, but it was all stuff like whether he’d kissed any girls or smoked any cigarettes or whatever—not anything like this.

“Come on,” said Tony, nudging him again. “Just tell us.”

“Um,” said Bruce, and tried to think past the fog in his brain. Even the lies he was coming up with were—they were completely implausible, and then—and then they would know . . . “I don’t know,” he said finally, his tongue feeling thick.

“Miss Romanoff didn’t say anything?” asked Pepper. “She didn’t give you any clues?”

Pepper just looked honestly curious, like she didn’t suspect anything, like she really did think maybe Natasha just wanted—

“We go out,” said Bruce.

“What?” said Tony.

“I mean,” Bruce ran his thumb over his fingers, stalling. “We—she knows the adult me. We’re, you know, close. She, you know, she knows me—I mean, better than the rest of you, so she—she wanted to spend time with me, because we’re—we’re friends.”

“Hulk didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend.” Tony’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t on the internet.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bruce said quickly. “I mean—”

“But you said you go out.” Pepper’s voice wasn’t accusatory, the way Tony’s was, but she seemed a little confused.

“I just mean we—she knows me better, so she wanted to, you know. See what I was like. As a—as a kid.”

Tony was still frowning. “She doesn’t treat you special other times.”

Bruce frowned back. “I’m not going out with her now. I mean—I’m not in the future, either. I just mean she—you know. She’s interested. Or—or that’s what she said, anyway.”

“Huh,” said Tony. “I guess I can see it.”

Bruce wanted to ask what he saw, but he also wanted to get off of the subject as soon as possible, lest they see any flaws in his story.

“Natasha’s totally a babe, and Hulk had this whole—” Tony waved a hand in an airy way, then seemed to realize what he was saying. Going a little pink, he swallowed. “Anyway, I wouldn’t go for Natasha, is all I’m saying. I hate red hair.”

Glaring at him, Pepper crossed her arms over her chest again. “What kind of girls do you like?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Tony said, smirking. “Guess you’ll have to ask me next time it’s my turn.”

Pepper narrowed her eyes. “Truth or dare,” she said, her low voice not even really a question.

Bruce released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Tony smirked. “Dare.”

Pepper’s eyes stayed narrow. “I dare you to answer the question I’m going to ask next truthfully.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Pepper, that’s not a real dare, and Steve, are you sleeping?”

“No,” said Steve, cracking open an eye. “You said it wasn’t a real dare and Bruce said his grown-up self is friends with Natasha, and you said you didn’t like redheads even though you do, because Pepper’s hair is red.” He closed his eyes again. “Did I miss anything?”

“You don’t know if I like redheads,” said Tony, “and anyway, Pepper’s hair isn’t red. It’s light brown.”

“I thought it was blonde,” said Bruce.

“News flash,” said Pepper. “Natasha’s hair isn’t red either.”

“I was wondering about that,” Steve said, with his eyes closed.

“Fine,” said Tony. “I like girls who are smart and know what they want, and who aren’t afraid to have a little fun. Now everyone has to do a shot.”

“I didn’t ask my question,” said Pepper.

“I already answered your question.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Come on, that’s not fair.”

“You’re awful at this game,” said Steve.

“Fine. Whatever.” Tony started setting up the shots anyway. “Ask your question.”

Pepper wasn’t smirking now, her expression open and serious. The thing about her big blue eyes was that they sort of looked like they could look right into you, and see all the sad things there and feel them too. That was something that adults sometimes did, but Pepper did it too, and Bruce thought maybe that was just what her eyes were like. She was doing it to Tony now. “What’s your least favorite part of being a kid?”

“What?” said Tony. Maybe he’d been expecting questions about kissing and smoking too.

“I think you heard me,” said Pepper, and put a piece of her hair behind her ear.

Tony frowned at her a long time. His gaze could be very still—sort of like he could see down into you too, but with Tony it was more like he could pull all the insides out, like he had a very sharp knife and could gut you with it, dragging it out of you until you begged him to stop. Finally, he looked away from Pepper. “Dad,” he said. “Okay, now we drink.”

“Your dad?” Steve sat up. “Really? I thought—”

“We drink, Steve,” said Tony, and knocked back his own glass.

Bruce did it too, even though he could already feel the other swallow he’d had taking effect. It wasn’t like it was bad or anything. Well—the taste was, and the way it burned his throat was, but it was nice inside. Warm, and loose.

“You said your dad and me are friends,” said Steve.

“You were,” said Tony, “and I also said drink.”

“But do you mean he’s—”

“I don’t mean anything,” said Tony.

“He doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.” Pepper swallowed her own shot. “He did my dare.”

“I’m sorry,” said Steve. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“S’okay,” said Tony. “Not a big deal. Just, you know. We don’t really get along most of the time. It’s not like he’s a bad—holy fuck, I’m drunk.”

“You’re not drunk,” said Pepper.

“Yes I am,” said Tony, sounding miserable. “I must be so fucking drunk.”

“You don’t really sound drunk,” said Steve.

“I am though,” said Tony. “I really fucking hate the bastard, okay, but here I am trying to convince you he’s cool and shit so that when you meet him you—and this is the part that’s so goddamn stupid—you’re not going to meet him because you already met him and you guys were totally World War II homeboys and I had to grow up with all these goddamn stories about you and him and him and you and I thought I fucking—oh my God, Hulk.” Tony tugged on Bruce’s shoulder. “Hulk, why don’t you shut me up?”

“Um,” said Bruce, feeling rather uncertain. “Am I supposed to?”

“Yes, you’re supposed to,” Tony moaned, at the same time as Steve said, “You don’t have to shut up, Tony. It’s okay. I mean, I understand that you’re upset about—”

“Oh my God, you don’t understand anything,” said Tony.

“Shut up,” Bruce said.

“And you’re all against me.” Tony tugged on Bruce’s shoulder some more. “Even you, and we were supposed to be homeboys.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “You told him to shut you up.”

“And you were supposed to be my girlfriend.” Tony was sort of hanging on Bruce’s shoulder now, and Bruce didn’t know what to do other than stay very, very still. “You know, you told me on the phone that you knew how to give excellent head.”

“Ew, barf me out,” said Pepper, her face a paroxysm of disgust.

“Maybe you really should shut up,” said Bruce.

“Maybe he really is drunk,” said Steve. He sounded warm and concerned about it. “Can I—”

“Don’t touch me,” Tony said, vaguely flapping a hand while he slumped onto Bruce. “Hulk is taking care of me. Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Bruce said, and sat up a little straighter.

“I’m never drinking again,” Tony moaned.

“You’re not even drunk,” said Pepper, “and anyway, you didn’t do your dare. You disrespected me.”

“That’s right.” Tony wiggled against Bruce, sort of flopping around a bit on Bruce’s side until at last he was lying down and his head was on Bruce’s thigh. He put a dramatic hand over his eyes. “Who’s turn is it?”

“Mine,” said Pepper. “I pick truth.”

“That’s not fair,” Tony said, sitting up so straight and quickly that he almost knocked Bruce in the jaw. “How come the first time you say dare and you kiss Steve, but then the next time—”

“You could have just dared me to kiss you,” said Pepper. “But I noticed you didn’t.”

“Because I thought—”

“Because you think you’re God’s gift to manhood, is that it?” said Pepper. “Get real.”

Frowning, Tony sort of slumped. His head found Bruce’s thigh again. “God’s gift to manhood is Captain America. Everyone knows that. I don’t care. I’m God’s gift to geniusness. Aren’t we, Hulk?”

Tony looked up, smiling, and Bruce really didn’t like him there. His head was heavy and awkwardly hard and uncomfortably close to his crotch, and Tony couldn’t be comfortable anyway, because his neck was at a weird angle and just—just people didn’t sit this way; they didn’t sit this way on him. Bruce tried to adjust his leg without moving it too much so that Tony would be more comfortable.

“Anyway, Pepper has truth,” said Tony. “So . . . can you truthfully take off your shirt?”

Pepper just raised a brow. “Is that really your question?”

“No—Steve!” Tony sat up, narrowly missing Bruce’s jaw again. “Steve, are you sleeping?”

“No.” Steve blinked opened his eyes. “Are you and Pepper still arguing?”

“Such a loser,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “Someone needs to keep you awake. Want me to keep poking you? I can totally keep poking you.”

Steve yawned. “Aren’t you guys even tired?”

“I can go all night.” Tony smirked rakishly. “If you’re tired, you can lean on me. I’ll keep you awake.”

“I’m fine,” said Steve.

“Whatever,” said Tony, but didn’t lean back on Bruce.

Bruce guessed maybe his leg had been uncomfortable after all or whatever.

“What do you hope is different about yourself?” said Steve. “In the future, I mean. Pepper, for your truth.”

“Good question,” said Tony, and didn’t even sound sarcastic.

Steve smiled. His cheeks were pink, from the alcohol, Bruce guessed. “Thanks,” Steve said.

“What do I wish was different.” Pepper started twisting a bit of her hair around her finger, frowning. “I guess I wish . . . people thought I was less bossy.”

“People think you’re bossy?” Tony said, in this really falsely innocent voice.

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

“Because you never tell me what to do.”

“Oh, I still want to tell people what to do,” said Pepper, still twisting her hair. “I just don’t want them to think I’m bossy.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. He had been right. She was slippery. “You want to tell them what to do without them knowing you’re telling them?” he said. “You want them to think it’s their idea?”

“That makes it sound manipulative.” Pepper sounded thoughtful. “That’s not quite it. I just hate how—how people won’t listen to me just because they think I’m being bossy. If I could just find a way to say the things I want to say—and say them in a nice way—then maybe people would see reason.”

“And you’re always reasonable?” Bruce said.

“Well.” Sounding a little hurt, Pepper frowned. “I’m not unreasonable.”

“When I grow up, people do whatever I say because I’m Iron Man,” said Tony.

Pepper rolled her eyes. “No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do.”

Steve leaned over toward Bruce, saying in an undertone, “If we left right now, I bet they wouldn’t even notice.”

Bruce sort of wanted to ask Steve what he hoped would be different about himself when he grew up, because if he was really Captain America, he’d gone through all these changes, and Bruce was interested in them. He didn’t ask though, because that would leave it open for Steve to ask it back, and Bruce didn’t want to answer. Instead he just said, “Yeah,” and listened to Tony and Pepper argue.

“I’m sure I don’t do what you tell me,” Pepper was saying.

“Yes you do,” said Tony, “because you go out with me. And I bet you go down on me all the time.”

“Ugh,” said Pepper. “Why are you so grody?”

“You know you love me.” Tony smiled sweetly. “When I grow up.”

“Sicko,” said Pepper. “Not anymore.”

“Just wait.” Tony turned away from her. “Steve, are you—” He cut himself off, looking between Steve and Bruce.

Steve had moved closer, Bruce guessed. Bruce had hardly even talked to him, but Tony had stopped like he’d thought he was interrupting their conversation, and then Bruce started thinking about what Tony had said, about him and Steve.

“—awake,” Tony finished, after a long pause. “Anyway,” he said, shaking his hair back from his face. “It’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” said Steve.

“Fool that you are,” said Tony, with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, what—”

“Hey,” said Pepper. “You don’t get to ask all the questions.”

“Yes, I do,” said Tony. “It’s my game. And I’m drunk.”

“Oh my God, stop saying that.” Pepper rolled her eyes. “Steve, what are you going to miss most about being a kid?”

“That’s what you ask him?” said Tony. “Why did you ask him what he’s going to miss, when you asked me—”

“Is this a part where I need to shut you up because you’re drunk?” said Bruce. “Or is it a part where you just want to hear yourself talk? Because I can do either.”

“Hmph,” said Tony, and then went back to leaning on Bruce. “Whatever.”

Bruce was surprised, because as soon as the comment was out of his mouth, he’d realized he was being an asshole, even though he hadn’t meant it that way. That was something that happened to him a lot, but Tony apparently—apparently Tony didn’t care. Bruce looked down at the head on his leg. Tony was pretending like he was asleep. This time Bruce was very careful not to move or shift at all.

“Steve?” Pepper tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Did you hear my question?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” said Steve. “I’m just thinking.”

Tony cracked open an eye. “It’s not a hard question, Steve.”

There was a silence, and then Tony sat up. Bruce decided not to worry where or why he was going, because Tony was sort of all over the place. “You don’t have to answer,” Tony said.

“I can answer,” said Steve.

“I know,” said Tony. “But you don’t have to. I mean, if you don’t want to.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t this the game?”

“Yeah, but—” Tony got closer to him. “But I mean, we don’t have to.”

“Thanks?” said Steve. “I was going to say I like drawing, but it’s . . . that’s not singular to childhood.”

“No,” said Tony. “That’s great. That’s a good answer.”

“You can still draw when you grow up,” said Pepper.

“That’s what I meant,” said Steve. “I’m trying to think of something that—”

“It’s okay, Steve.” Tony sounded anxious. “Drawing’s great. That’s the bees’ knees. Drawing. Who doesn’t love drawing? It’s the best part of childhood. Bruce, truth or—”

“Oh,” said Steve, brightening considerably. “Sometimes we get comics.”

Pepper put her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I forgot. You grew up in an orphanage, didn’t you?”

Steve frowned. “How did you—”

“Not to worry,” said Tony. “It’s Bruce’s turn.”

“I’m sorry,” said Pepper. “I read about you. I mean, it said—I’m so sorry. I would never have asked. I—I forgot.”

Steve was still frowning. “Why wouldn’t you ask? It’s an orphanage, not a prison. It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. I’m—”

“Heya, ankle-biters,” said Clint.

They all turned around, and Clint strode up to them. “Hate to break up the party,” he said, and fear poured over Bruce like a cold bucket of water.

Clint wasn’t looking at him, though. He was smiling at the blanket, glasses, and booze. “I’m sort of hurt I wasn’t invited. Bet you’ve got the best sauce,” Clint said to Tony.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Can’t you even pretend to be upset?”

“Nope,” said Clint. “Gimme that scotch; I wanna try it.”

Tony went on looking testy while Clint swiped the bottle and a glass. “We’re having a clandestine meeting here.”

Pouring himself a shot, Clint gave Tony a crooked smile. “Was that what it was?”

“You’re a dork, you know,” said Tony.

“Do we have to go to bed?” Pepper asked, getting to her feet.

“No.” Clint threw back the shot. “But if you want, you can to come down and see what Foster did. Actually, she says Doctor Banner did it.”

Clint didn’t look at Bruce, though. He just put the stopper back in the decanter and turned the glass over. In fact, Clint had never paid any particular attention to him, ever since that first time when he’d reached out and Bruce had jumped away like a dumb shithead. He wondered where Natasha was.

“Bruce?” said Pepper.

“I didn’t know you were a doctor,” said Steve.

“I told you he’s a genius,” said Tony.

“Come on,” said Clint. “Let’s go see.”

Bruce didn’t really want to go, but he didn’t really see how he could get away—Tony would whine at him and Clint would probably be mad or something, so he went.

*

They all went, even though Steve kept yawning. For some reason, they went to the fifty-fourth floor, even though the Flux Accelerator itself was on the forty-ninth. This lab was very similar, though, with another holodesk just like the other one, holding yet another volumetric display of the virtual Flux Accelerator.

Foster seemed to have fixed it.

“I didn’t fix it,” said Foster. “I recalibrated it. That was all that was wrong, Doctor Banner. You calculated the field of effect to be much smaller—actually, that was probably the same mistake that Stark made in his own accident. Once I finally understood this—” she waved a hand—“it was easy.”

“Easy?” said Pepper, smirking.

“Easy in a theoretical physics sort of—Steve Rogers. The Steve Rogers.” Foster put out her hand, and obviously not knowing what he was getting into, Steve took it. “This is—a miracle of science. Darcy would flip her shit. Excuse my French. I’m sorry, is it terribly inappropriate if I mention you’re . . . kind of adorable?”

“No ma’am,” said Steve, but he blushed beet red. Foster was still shaking his hand.

“Yes,” said Tony. “It’s entirely inappropriate. Steve is unprepared to accept advances from women of the future. Especially older women of the future.”

Laughing, Foster dropped Steve’s hand. “I’m all out of advances.”

“As Steve is thusly unequipped,” said Tony, “I am prepared to accept on his behalf any forms of flirtation or admiration that would otherwise be bestowed upon him. I will be sure to render them unto him at such a time as he grasps mating rituals of the future.”

Foster just laughed again. “Careful what you say. I know some people who would blackmail you for photos of you, ah, ‘rendering’.”

Tony blushed now, too. “I meant—I meant I wouldn’t render them, because he’s never going to grasp—”

“Uh-huh,” said Foster.

“Why wouldn’t I grasp the mating rituals of the future?” said Steve, his face rather incandescently pink.

“Because,” said Tony, “because—”

“Anyway,” said Foster. “Check this out.” She tapped a large, clear panel, which blinked on to show the lab on the forty-ninth floor.

“It’s a live stream,” said Foster. “Now, see the apple?”

Bruce, Pepper and Steve moved closer to the screen, while the camera zoomed on the Flux Accelerator. Right beside it on the floor was an apple.

“You and Clint are going to be totally cool as kids,” Tony said, hanging back near Foster instead of looking at the screen. “But I don’t know about Natasha. She’s kind of intense.”

“That’s why we’re up here and not in there,” said Foster. “Just in case.”

“Whatever,” said Tony. “Just don’t make me a baby or anything.”

“Alright,” said Foster. “Eyes on the apple. JARVIS, work with me here.”

“Initializing,” said Jarvis.

Bruce tried to watch closely, but it didn’t look like anything was happening. Even when the apple started shrinking, he couldn’t really see anything else, except that maybe the air looked shimmery around it. Then the apple was gone.

“It’s still there,” Foster explained, coming closer. “It’s just a seed. Okay now, JARVIS, reverse the process.”

“Reversing,” said Jarvis.

The apple started to grow again.

Steve turned away from the screen, looking at Foster curiously. “I’m sorry, this may be a stupid question, but if Jarvis can just reverse the process . . .”

Foster shook her head. “He couldn’t, because he didn’t know how. Doctor Banner worked out the theory, then applied it to the equipment. He’d mostly worked it out, but when he went to test the procedure—”

“We got in the way,” said Pepper.

“’Fraid so,” said Foster.

“So,” said Bruce, thinking he was asking the obvious question, “can we do it now?”

“What?” Foster looked surprised, then laughed. “Oh, no. I have a lot more tests to do before we do it on you guys. I’ve got to make sure it’s restoring mass exactly as it was distributed previously, and then there’s the neural configuration. Your brains couldn’t have lost that much mass, since most of your actual brain growth is done. My guess is the neural matter was restructured, which brings us to the question of whether when you—ah, reage, whether the neural matter will be similarly restructured back to its previous configuration—and whether you’ll have all your memories, et cetera. It’s going to be a little while. I mean, ordinarily, it would take years before we . . .”

Bruce’s shoulders slumped.

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Foster said, in a comforting way. “I’m hoping to have it done by some time tomorrow.”

Tomorrow was much better than years from now, so Bruce tried not to be disappointed.

Foster looked at them thoughtfully, her eyes finally coming to rest on Bruce. “You all could help, if you’re up for it. I’m just going to be doing a lot of tests, so I could use runners. Rat wranglers. Apple stabbers, that sort of thing.”

“Rat wranglers?” said Pepper, sounding interested.

“Yeah, Natasha’s getting us some rats. They should be trained for specific tasks—running a maze, loud noise means cheese, that sort of thing. Then I’ll throw them in the Flux Accelerator, zap ‘em baby-sized then pop ‘em back to adult, see whether they can still run the maze, et cetera. Run a bunch of scans on their brains, too.”

“That’s totally radical,” said Pepper.

Foster laughed. “Isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to play Truth or Dare any more anyway,” said Tony, lifting his nose. “You all were lame.” He turned to Clint. “Pepper dared me to respect her.”

“Nat dared me to do that once,” said Clint.

Bringing down his nose, Tony looked curious. “What did you do?”

“Kid,” said Clint, “I do what I have to to survive.”

Then Steve yawned, and Tony looked at him in concern. “Steve, are you sleepy? Do you need to go back to bed?”

“No,” said Steve, yawning again. “I want to be a rat wrangler.”

“I’m sure you can wrangle in the morning,” said Tony anxiously.

“No, I want to be an apple stabber too. Maybe I’ll just sit down.”

“You can lean on me,” Tony said. Steve sank down on one of the stools, and Tony looked around. “I’ll get you a blanket. I’m going to go get Steve a blanket,” he announced, because he was so concerned about Steve or whatever.

Bruce didn’t care. He went over to look at the volumetric Flux Accelerator to see what Foster had done with it, but couldn’t see any difference, and the screen with the real Flux Accelerator and the apple kept distracting him. Tomorrow, he could be in that apple’s place.

Tomorrow.

*

Sometime later—it must have been like four in the morning—Bruce woke up to a hand on his shoulder, and he startled violently.

“Just me,” Natasha murmured.

Bruce looked around, wiping his face. Foster was standing over near the holodesk, but no one else was around.

“They all went to bed,” said Natasha. “You lasted the longest.”

“I’m up,” Bruce said, yawning.

“Okay,” said Natasha. “But if you want, I can show you where you can sleep.”

Blinking his eyes hard, Bruce shook his head. “I’m not sleepy.”

“There isn’t a prize.” Natasha smiled. “There’s just a mattress and some pillows, if you want them.”

“Fine,” said Bruce, and yawned again.

She handed him his pajamas, and he followed her to the top floor. She showed him where the bed was, and then she touched his face. “Good night, Brusichik,” she said and left.

Bruce thought Brusichik was kind of a dumb nickname, but actually he really liked it, so he changed into his pajamas and then got in the bed.

*

Mid-afternoon the next day, Foster deemed the Flux Accelerator a success, and ready for human trial.

“Human trial?” Tony said.

“We’re the only human test subjects it makes sense to try,” Bruce pointed out.

“Yes, but trial?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, because Tony could be so stupid sometimes, and they got into their adult clothes. They had to go down to the lab on the forty-ninth floor alone, just in case, while Foster, Clint, and Natasha stayed in the other lab on the fifty-fourth. Bruce was a little scared, but he never would have admitted it.

“Are you scared?” Steve asked the rest of them.

“Of course not,” said Tony arrogantly, lifting his head. Then his tone softened. “You can hold my hand if you want, Steve.”

“A little,” said Pepper, and held Steve’s other hand.

“I’m not scared,” said Bruce, scowling. He pushed past them to go stand near the Flux Accelerator. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get this over with.

“Of course you’re not,” said Tony, then looked down at Steve. “Don’t worry. Hulk and I will protect you.”

“Not if you get turned into a five year old,” said Pepper.

“Don’t listen to her, Steve,” said Tony. “We’re going to be awesome adults.”

“Please stand by,” said Jarvis.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Tony. “Standing by.” He was holding Steve’s hand and his pants up with the other, while Steve held Pepper’s hand.

Bruce stood a little bit apart from them, holding up his own pants. Tony was just reaching out his hand to him when the pain started, doubling Bruce over.

It felt oddly familiar, and suddenly Bruce had this swirling, strange memory of standing here before; his skin felt too small everywhere, like something was trying to come out. There was a roaring in his ears, but he couldn’t tell if someone was screaming or maybe it was him. Then finally, it seemed to stop, and he stood up.

His pants threatened to slip down his hips, so Bruce grabbed them, his too-long sleeves getting in the way.

Three adults he didn’t know stood in front of him, holding hands.