Hope you like this story, it's been bouncing around my mind for days. I would really like someone to do a cover image for this story.

At seventeen, Tony had graduated from MIT at the top of his class. He hadn't been bothered that neither his parents turned up for his graduation—he didn't miss Rhodey's poor-masked look of concern when he realised that the Starks were a no show—as he had never expected them too.

Tony learnt at an early age that it was better to expect nothing from his parents, that way he wasn't disappointed.

He would admit that he was surprised when Jarvis came up to him with concern clear in his gaze as he told Tony that he was needed home. That had alarmed Tony a bit, his mind had raced for any reason that his parents would need him home.

There was a tense stillness to the air when he arrived at Stark Manor, the old butler quietly telling him that Mr and Mrs Stark were waiting in the main living room.

His mother, Maria, sat rigidly in her favourite armchair with her full painted red lips pursed tightly. Her golden brown eyes barely flickered to him when he entered before the Italian beauty continued to drill holes into the back of Howard Stark's head.

His father stood with his back to him and facing the fireplace. His shoulders were straight and tense though it seemed he was cradling something to his chest.

"Your firstborn has returned." Maria's voice could have been made of ice as she spoke making Tony flinch slightly while Howard's back became impossibly straighter.

"Maria…" Howard almost appealed to his wife in a long-suffering tone.

"No, Howard." Maria denied her husband with a sharp tone and swift words. "Tell Anthony about the foolish mistake you've made, the foolish mistake that you've decided to dump on us."

Tony frowned as Howard didn't fire back. When his parent fought, they fought with passion that showed Tony a hint of how passionate they must have once loved each other. But this, this was cold.

He looked at his mother's face, the wrinkles ceasing her caramel skin as she glared and sneered at her husband's back. Golden brown eyes were as hard as amber, coldly disappointed and darkened in angry-hurt.

With a disgusted toss of ebony hair, Maria left in a swirl of expensive cloth and perfume.

"Dad..?" The question was tentative.

"Tony." Howard let out a deep sigh before he turned to face his son.

Oh.

Is the first thought that enters Tony's mind as he saw just what his father was cradling stiffly yet carefully to his chest. He could understand his mother comment of firstborn now.

There was a baby in his father's arms, a girl if the pink blanket was anything to go by. Fine dark hair thickly covered the baby's head, almost the same shade of dark brown almost black that Tony shared with Howard. One tiny fist was clenched on Howard's shirt, wrinkling it of course though he didn't seem to care, and its' tiny face was relaxed in sleep.

"This is Natasha Margaret Howard." His mouth twitched when he spoke her last name—in a frown or a smile, Tony didn't know. "She is your sister."

Part of Tony wanted to laugh. Because it was obvious that despite the fact that Howard wasn't going to acknowledge that she was his daughter because of the scandal it would cause, that he still was claiming her as his daughter to at least his family because he still gave her his name. Howard.

Part of him vaguely wonders if her middle name is meant to be a tribute to Aunt Peggy, Tony thought that Howard should have made her middle name Maria or something like that to appeal to his angered wife. But Tony knew it wouldn't appease his mother, she would have hated it—but he bet she hated it more that Howard had named his daughter after Aunt Peggy, an old flame, Tony had gathered from stories about WW2.

Another part of him burnt with resentment. Because this baby was proof that Howard cheated on Maria—his father had cheated on his mother! Logically, Tony knew that his parents' marriages wasn't ideal and perhaps they would have divorced if it wouldn't have caused a scandal or because they remembered half-forgotten love they held for each other, Tony naively hoped. And perhaps Tony suspected that neither of his parents had been faithful to each other for a long time. But he had never thought it would be confirmed, especially with a sibling—a sister.

"No one is to know." Howard continued. "It's best if only we know that she's my daughter, to keep her protected."

My daughter. Protected.

The resentment was a burning ball in his lower abdomen as his fists clenched closed. Had Howard cared about Tony's protection when he was that small? If he did, why had Tony been able to be kidnapped twice as a kid?

Did Howard have subconscious pride and care in his tone when he spoke of Tony—when he called him 'my son'? Did he even call him that?

"I'll need you to look after her, Tony." Howard finished and Tony wanted to shout out 'fuck no!'

But Howard was already striding towards him, holding out the baby toward him like Tony wanted to hold it. He would sooner have a holiday in hell than hold that thing.

But somehow, Tony ended up cradling the tiny thing in his awkward arms.

Soft pale pink eyelids fluttered open because of the movement, disgruntled dark eyes focused and stared up at him.

Tony knew he winced as he expected it to let out a shrill scream, and yet it doesn't. It gurgled almost happily as it stared up at him with wide dark eyes—so much like Dad's eyes, he half-thinks, like his own eyes, just without the flecks of gold—and she smiled.

A wide and happy smile that showed all of her dark pink gums and light pink tongue with little spit-bubbles.

The ball of resentment popped like a balloon as something warm and tingly settled in his chest as he stared down at her tiny smiling little face with wide eyes.

He isn't aware of the proud and happy smile that briefly curls Howard's lips as he stared at his two children, a smile that made him seem years younger, before Howard softly padded out of the room.

Tony barely felt himself walk to an armchair and settle in it, he awkwardly moves her so he can hold her with one arm—she stares up at him with almost serene patience that Tony knew for a fact he never had and most likely never have—and let her curl her tiny soft fists around the fingers of his newly freed hand.

"Hey Nattie," because Tony would never call her Natasha, "I'm Tony." He swallowed almost thickly as his throat seemed to close tightly for some reason. "I'm your brother."

Perhaps Tony could understand why his Dad wanted to protect this little girl, because Tony wanted the same thing.

Tony decided that Nattie was for him to look after and took her everywhere with him—after getting Jarvis to buy him a baby carrier and such for her. He set up a little cot for her in his workroom for when she needed to nap—he knew he grinned madly when she easily slept through the noise of his tools when he was inventing things—and the fridge held bottles filled with her formula mixed with cans of his coke-a-cola and such.

His mother always sneered when she saw Nattie happily strapped to Tony's chest, he knew she had been counting on Tony hating her too and saw his love for the girl as a betrayal.

He had threw together a small mobile made of bits and bobs he found in dotting around in his workshop, that shinnied brilliantly when the lights hit them right and could capture Nattie's attention easily.

He foresaw him buying lots of shiny things for her in the future if her love for them continued, which given her level of fascination seemed likely.

When he brings Dum-E home from Dad's workshop almost a year after he first held her and three months after her 1st birthday, Nattie and Dum-E seemed to fall in love with each other and spent their time playing with each other. Dum-E happily dangling toys for Nattie to giggle over and reach for, he would follow after Nattie as she wandered around the workshop, removing anything she shouldn't be handling from her grasp.

That hadn't been the thought in his mind when he built Dum-E, but it sparked an idea.

Before Jarvis had been looking after Nattie because Tony didn't trust anyone else with his little sister, but he knew Jarvis was getting too old to chase after an energy-filled toddler.

Tony knew he couldn't trust any other human to look after and raise Nattie—he had disliked his nannies, especially because one had kidnapped him—but that didn't mean he couldn't build someone to look after her.

August brings the birth of Nanny. A robot specially built to look after Nattie when he couldn't be able to and help raise her, she's the first A.I that he created that could speak. He knew she looked more like a maid than a nanny but Nattie liked the silver, white and black bot.

Dum-E still played with Nattie though under the sharp watch of Nanny, who was always ready to scoop her tired charge up or tell off Dum-E when she thought he was too rough.

Nanny had a horrible of habit of poking Tony into eating whenever she thought he needed to eat, lecturing him in her feminine robotic voice if he ignored the plate of food too long for her liking.