Tiny Genius

Scraps and Talks

Minimal time later, they were all sitting on the couch, eating. Tony had lost his carefree additude in less than two minutes, now shuffling and looking like an awkward puppy. He had eaten most of his fries and half his burger, having seemed surprised to get fries but grateful at the same time. He kept offering some to them and they kept having to gently turn him down.

"Something wrong, Tony?" May asked after a moment of watching Tony wiggle around. He froze, head snapping to look at her.

"No, ma'am, I... I'm not used to eating on a couch, Miss Parker. Mom, Dad, and I usually eat at the table." There was a note of sadness to his voice. "But this is fine. I just don't want to get anything on it."

"If a mess happens, it will be fine, Tony. We'll get it cleaned up. No worries," May said with a calm voice and smile. "Please, call me May."

"Okay, Miss May."

Peter had to hide a smile behind one of his chicken nuggets. Tony was always trying to stop him from calling him 'Mr. Stark,' but it never worked. To see it happening another way around...

They finished their food and Tony got off the couch and held out a hand toward Peter's plate. The teen looked at him, perplexed at what he wanted. "What..."

"I can take your plate to the trashcan," Tony said, voice quiet. His hand stayed mid air until Peter handed over the plate.

"Thank you," Peter said. Tony got May's plate too and headed toward the kitchen, pausing when he entered.

"In the closet," May said and Tony found the trashcan quickly. "Thank you  Tony."

"Your welcome, Miss May," he said, ducking his head. There was a blush forming on his cheeks, Peter realized. "I...." he bit his lip nervously, brown eyes glancing up at them. He took a breath and squared his shoulders, straightening. It was a practiced action, robotic in a way that made Peter uncomfortable. "I have a question," he said as he clasped his hands in front of him.

"What is it, sweetheart?" May asked, both her and Peter giving Tony their full attention.

"Am I in the future? Or have I been reverted?" He asked. Peter was thrown for a loop. How...? Thankfully, Tony went on to explain. "I have my memories up until the conference, but then I wake up in a high-tech lab. You all are familiar, but I am very sure I never met any of you in my past four years. Meaning, I have been most likely reverted to a child and am an adult in this time period."

Peter's mouth was agape, but should he really be surprised? Tony Stark was a child prodigy. He remembered old newspapers saying he was very observational, which was probably the only thing they got right about him as a child.

"Or I could be wrong and spouting nonsense," Tony said, looking away from them and beginning to fiddle with his hands, a nervous habit. He quickly stopped, glancing at them once again. There was fear in those eyes and his whole posture screamed that he thought he was going to get in trouble.

"Tony," May started and Peter pretended not to notice how Tony flinched. "you are correct, but even if you weren't, you did nothing wrong by stating what you thought."

His face twisted a bit with confusion and wariness. "But if it's wrong, it's... wrong."

Peter had the overwhelming urge to pull the four year old into a hug, swaddle him with blankets, and never let go because he needed to be protected from the world.

"Being wrong is okay, it just gives you the chance to learn something new," she said. "No one is ever always right."

"My dad is. He says so when I try to tell him that he-" Little Tony clamped his mouth shut with an audible click of his teeth.