"Tony!" Tiny Steve wails, voice cutting off as his head goes under the water. Tony takes an automatic step forward, driven by the fear in his voice. Behind him, the young Avengers are in various states of dismay.

"Stay put," he says tersely, calling up everything he knows about the area and the tide patterns. The memory of a late-night research binge on riptides and their presence at this beach quickens his step. Without much thought, Tony kicks off his flip flops and crashes into the ocean.

As always with the west coast, the water is frigid and takes his breath away. It takes a few seconds to find his bearings, but that doesn't stop him at all. Moving with single-minded determination, he shoves aside the flashes of memories sparking at the corners of his vision and makes his way towards the struggling child as fast as he possibly can.

Tony curses the fact that he didn't think to bring floaties. After all, he never intended for them to set foot in the ocean itself. Steve is unnaturally quiet now; likely he only managed to get a word out at all because he expresses his surprise verbally as he reacts.

At this point it seems like Steve is getting further away, travelling through the water at the same speed that Tony is - only in the opposite direction. Tony can feel the sand slipping from under his feet in his haste to reach the young Avenger, but the water is fighting him every step of the way. Frustrated, he gives up all notion of staying upright and lunges forward with his hand outstretched just as Steve's head goes under.

**8**

They're a sorry sight when they finally make it back into the Malibu house. The children are subdued; Natalia and Thor are huddled under one beach towel, Bruce is dragging one behind him, and Clint is still dripping from the tidepools. Tony's got tiny Steve bundled up to his chest and wrapped in a blanket. He sneezes every few steps.

Happy greets them at the door. Tony casts him a sideways look, because he's pretty sure the man was supposed to go home after delivering the kids' beach gear, but here he is anyways. Either he's got a sixth (seventh, eighth, Happy is all-knowing, really) sense, or Jarvis read the mood on the way home from the limited sensors on his phone and called ahead. Regardless, Tony finds himself quietly grateful.

"Welcome back, boss," Happy says, holding the door open for them as they step inside. Adult shoes and kiddie flip flops get kicked aside at the entryway, scattering sand across the floor. Not even Bruce, who sometimes worries about the mess they make, bothers to do a thing about it. They all come to a stop in the middle of the living room, staring around exhaustedly. Steve is still sneezing. It would be adorable if the whole situation hadn't scared five years off Tony's life.

"Hey, Hap," he answers, after a too-long delay.

"Hi, Happy," three of the munchkins chorus, sort of. It's a little out of sync, and mumbled at the floor. He's not sure which of them said anything and which ones have zoned out.

"Need some help?"

"Maybe," Tony admits. A tiny hand fists his shirt. "Kinda got my hands full here."

Happy considers this for a few moments. He must come to some conclusion, because he then claps his hands to get everyone's attention. "Attention, kiddos!" he calls, and the ones still standing look up at him. "Right this way," he continues with an air of friendly authority. "Bath time. Gotta wash the sand offa you."

Obediently, single file, they follow. Steve stirs, but Tony pats him on the back in a fair attempt at being soothing. "Not you, bud. You're coming with me."

There are three showers in Tony's mansion. The main floor's has a tub for no real reason - that's where Happy takes the rest of the mini-vengers. The workshop has an emergency shower, a toilet, and a sink. The master bathroom also has a tub, though it's sized to fit six, so really it's a small pool.

They're headed up to the master bedroom. A wordless glance at a camera has Jarvis filling the tub a few inches for them on the way. Tony shifts the Steve-shaped bundle in his aching arms and rubs a little more vigorously at his head with the beach towel. Tiny Cap has devolved into sniffles, rubbing his nose against Tony's shoulder. It's leaving smears of snot on his shirt sleeve. He tries not to hold it against the kid.

One thing he can comfortably hold against him, though…

"So," he says conversationally, kneeling down and patting the inside of the tub. Young Steve strips off his swimsuit and takes the three steps built into the side, nose wrinkled. Likely they've all had enough of water to last a while, but the salt needs to wash off. "Wanna tell me just what you were thinking?"

Steve makes an inquiring noise, opening caps and sniffing at the (many) bottles of shampoo and body wash lining the tub. He offers one bottle silently and Tony takes it, lathering up his hands and attacking Steve's straw-like hair.

"I mean," he continues, taking on a sharper tone, "why did you go out into the water when I told you it was off limits? Do you know what off limits means?"

Tiny Steve nods mutely, playful spark gone. He knows he was in the wrong.

Frustrated, Tony rubs a little harder at the kid's head for emphasis. "Well? You scared years off my life with that little stunt!"

"I thought I could do it."

"What's that?"

"I said I could do it!" Steve cries, eyes welling up. His face creases and soap inches down his face. He smacks at Tony's hand when the grown Avenger tries to swipe it away. "I been to the beach before! I know how ta swim!"

"It was dangerous," Tony argues, snagging one arm and lathering that up instead. "And I told you not to! I told all of you not to. I made that rule for a reason!"

"'Sa stupid reason!"

"You could've gotten hurt!" snaps Tony. He tugs the other arm out and dumps some suds on. "You could've died! The rule was not stupid: your decision to ignore it was!"

"I'm not stupid!" Steve shrieks. He finally bursts into tears, bringing both fists up to rub his eyes. The cries pick up another notch when the soap suds connect.

"I didn't say you were stupid," Tony says angrily, frustrated at Steve's unwillingness to let him help. Frustrated at the situation at hand. Frustrated at the kid's noisy crying echoing off all corners of the bathroom. Frustrated at his own inability to handle this crying child without tears of his own springing to his eyes. "Christ. Fuck. I said that you should have listened to me when I told you not to go in the water."

"I know how to listen!"

"Do you?" Tony snarls, gesturing violently at nothing. "Because it seems like, big or small, you go out of your way to make sure you don't listen, even if that means you get hurt!"

"I don't wanna get hurt," tiny Steve argues, "I wanna do stuff."

"You were doing stuff. You were doing stuff with the other kids just fine! Argh!" He runs a soapy hand through his own hair. "Why do you have to be so - so -"

"Bad?"

Tony looks up. "What?"

Young Rogers' face is still all scrunched up, soapy water and tears running down his face. The yelling has stopped. "I don't wanna be bad," he chokes.

"Oh," Tony sighs, deflating. This time, when he reaches out Steve goes to meet him. He gathers the kid up into a hug as best he can across the tub wall as the quiet cries evolve into wails of distress. "I'm sorry, kiddo. You're not stupid or bad. I shouldn't have yelled."

Exhausted crying is his only response for several minutes. Tony crouches there stiffly in that time, his own stress mounting until it overflows into highly cathartic tears of his own.

Eventually, it peters off. Steve sniffles, coughs. Tony puts himself back together and lets go.

"I won't do it again," Steve says in a small voice.

"I won't either," Tony replies, exhausted. "Let's agree not to scare each other anymore, because let me tell you, munchkin. You really did scare me back there."

They meet up with the rest of the young Avengers in the master bedroom. Happy is perfectly willing to watch one more cranky child (and dose him up with all kinds of delightful medications that, apparently, pre-serum Steve needs - asthma cigarettes not included) while Tony washes the stress of the day off and changes into comfortable pajamas like the kids. It may be early evening, and they may not have eaten dinner yet, but a nap feels like a really good idea at this point.

Once they're all settled in, Steve at his shoulder this time, Happy takes his cue to leave. He quietly promises to check back in later and closes and locks all the doors behind him. Jarvis obligingly dims the room.

They're all almost done for when Natalia speaks up. "No more beaches."

The rest of the kids murmur agreement.

Tony is already asleep.

**8**

DELETED SCENE!

"Good god," Tony says, horrified. "They're going to track sand all inside. Why didn't I have towels laid out?"

"That would be a lot of towels"

"Yeah but I'm not worried about that, am I? I'm rich enough to buy a bunch of towels to lay out between the door and the bathroom. The sand? Will never leave, no matter how much money I throw at it."