A/N: So, I've been holding on to this Little Steve story for a while, intending to publish it after my Norseman's Cube story was over, but I figured, people are stuck at home these days and could maybe use something nice and fluffy, so here we go. I've got all the fluff for you. (For those of you following Norseman's Cube, don't worry, it's still posting on schedule.)

This story is set not too long after Age of Ultron, with a slight AU twist on the ending in that they all still live in the Tower, not the new compound, and Thor hasn't left yet. Also, Bucky is here. Because Bucky just makes the story better, and I wanted him here. He came back at some point not long after Winter Soldier and is, like, 3/4 of the way recovered.

Thanks as always to Ninjagidget, my fantastic beta reader! So, here we go: Time for the adventures of the Avengers and Kid Steve! (Who, if I may say so myself, is a heckin' cute kid.)

A roar shook the walls of the building—distant, but not distant enough. Another one of the creatures was out there, and Steve had no idea where they were coming from. It was like they appeared out of thin air. No one knew what they were either—if they were aliens, they were a kind Thor had never seen. The best anyone had come up with was some sort of dragon-fish hybrid, though they flew (Or hovered, maybe? They didn't have wings.), had crests of feathers behind their heads, and spat poison. They ranged in size from large crocodile to small whale. Their scales and feathers came in a range of soft jewel tones, and they were graceful and lithe when they moved, and if not for the fact that they were destroying everything in sight and trying to eat everyone, they would have been beautiful.

Two of them were dead on the ground—no one knew what they were, but they were flesh and blood, and not immune to bullets, lightning or fire. Five were flying around somewhere, and Steve had sent Rhodey, Sam and Thor to try to keep them contained in the warehouse. Bucky and Clint were chasing one of them, and the shouts and gunfire Steve heard through the radio in his ear told him they were at least keeping it in sight.

Steve, Nat and Tony were looking for more of them—they were oddly silent for giant flying lizards. "You think they can go through walls?" Nat wondered.

"That would explain why they're so hard to track," Steve said.

"Or maybe they do just pop out of thin air," Tony said from behind them in a tone that made them both turn around. An opening in space was appearing in the air up by the ceiling, a glowing ring of burning orange light framing the opening and the creature's head that was coming through it. Steve took a moment to be impressed at the sight before flinging his shield straight into the creature's jaw. It hissed angrily and drew back, and the opening closed behind it, the light blinking out.

"Be advised, guys, these things do just come out of thin air," Steve said into the radio, retrieving his shield. "Look for circles of glowing orange light that they come out of. Try to make them retreat back into the hole if you can." It was a testament to how weird their lives sometimes got that nobody's responses sounded surprised.

"Hey, uh, is anyone in the building seeing this?" Sam asked a minute later over the radio. "Anyone in the room with the purple one we killed earlier?"

"No," Steve replied. "What's up?"

"Well, I'm looking through the window, and I'm not seeing any orange light, but the monster is glowing green. Oh, crap, guys, it's moving! The injuries are closing up and it is definitely coming back to life!"

"On our way!" Steve said, and he, Nat and Tony took off running.

When they arrived in the room, the creature was still surrounded by spirals of glowing green light. It was slowly rising back into the air, moving its limbs gingerly, as if testing them out. The fatal wound in its head where Tony and Rhodey had dropped part of the ceiling on it was closing back up. Steve could actually see the flesh growing back over the exposed skull.

Nat and Tony immediately started firing, but Steve's attention was drawn to a movement back in the shadows. The figure of a man stood in the darkness, illuminated only by two small glowing circles of green around his wrists, the same color as the light swirling around the creature. "Guys, there's someone here!" he shouted. "Someone controlling the monster!" Steve hurled his shield at the figure, and the man stopped waving his arms at the creature and extended a hand in Steve's direction. A glowing circle of orange light appeared and kept the shield from making contact.

Protecting himself had cost him, though, and the green light around his wrists and the creature winked out, and the ground shuddered as the massive animal fell back to the ground. It groaned, gunshots rang out, and the creature was silent once more.

The figure took off, Steve, Tony and Nat in pursuit. Steve was closest, and nearly had the man in reach when he stopped and spun, his hands glowing green again. Steve was abruptly lifted up in the air, the green tendrils of light surrounding him now, and a pain like he hadn't felt since Project: Rebirth was rolling through his body. It didn't stop, agony coursing through his veins and whiting out his senses, and the last thing he was aware of was the sound of his shield clattering to the ground as it slipped from his hand.

Bucky and Clint had managed to take down the creature they were pursuing just as Wilson started yelling through the comms about one of the other ones coming back to life. Barton took one of his exploding arrows, jammed it into the dead animal's neck and set it off as he and Bucky ran. Severing the head should at least slow it down if this one decided to resurrect itself too.

They arrived just in time to see the light flare out around the floating half-alive creature, stumbling back slightly as it hit the ground with an earth-jarring crash. They joined Stark, Natasha and Steve in their pursuit of the man who was evidently in charge of these things. Bucky groaned. Weirdo portal-jumping aliens were bad enough—they had to have some kind of psycho magician controlling them too?

They caught up with them in time to see the man catch Steve in a swirl of green light, just like the one around the animal. Steve rose up in the air and started to scream, and Bucky picked up the pace, raising his gun and taking aim at the man. Steve screamed even louder, and something in the pitch of his voice drew Bucky's eyes away from his target and back up to his friend. His voice was higher than it should have been, and he was curled up awfully small against the pain and…Holy Hannah, he wasn't just curling up tightly, he actually was smaller!

Bucky pulled his eyes back to the man and took aim, sensing Natasha doing the same beside him and hearing the sound of Stark's repulsors firing up. The man waved his arms and the glowing ball of light and Steve came crashing down, flying back through the air and barreling into the three of them and sending them to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw the man vanish in a blink of orange light.

They disentangled themselves from the heap they'd landed in as Barton rushed over. Steve was on top of the pile, and while it looked like the rest of them had broken his fall, he was way too small and light. Bucky put his hand on Steve's arm and Steve's eyes snapped open and he yelped and backed away, falling to the floor as he rolled off of Bucky's chest and bounced off Stark's legs. He hit the floor and scrabbled away until he backed into a nearby wall, hampered in his movements by the uniform that was far too big for him.

"What's going on?" Steve demanded in a high, frightened voice.

"What the hell?" Barton asked, staring wide-eyed at Steve. Bucky could only nod in agreement. Steve wasn't just small, he was…This was a Steve Bucky hadn't seen in nearly a century. A Steve who was just…He was just a kid.

"Cap?" Stark said, getting to his feet first and stepping toward him. "Are you okay?"

Steve flinched back against the wall and Stark stopped moving. "What's going on?" Steve demanded again. "Who are you?"

"It's okay. It's us. Are you alright?" Nat asked.

Steve just pulled back farther, shaking his head slowly. "I don't understand," he said. "What's going on? Where am I?"

Bucky got up and stepped forward slowly, his hands up to show they were empty. He nodded at Nat and Stark to take a few steps back. "It's okay, Steve," he said, stopping a few feet away and getting down on his knees so he was closer to eye-level with his tiny friend. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Steve was staring at him warily, only looking mildly comforted by this statement. "How do you know my name?" he whispered.

That was not what Bucky wanted to hear, but he kept smiling. "It's okay," he said again. "You're safe. Everything's gonna be okay." He tilted his head a little and caught Steve's wide eyes. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he said calmly. "Do you believe me?" There was an awful lot going on and an awful lot to figure out, but the first thing they needed to do was calm Steve down.

Steve studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly.

Bucky's smile widened. "Good. That's good. Now, I know you're really confused, and kind of scared right now. I know you have a lot of questions, and I promise I will answer them for you. But can I ask you one more thing first?"

Steve nodded.

"How old are you?" Bucky asked. There was just a chance that whatever Mr. Glowy-Hands had done to Steve had just shrunk him, and his head was okay but just kind of scrambled right now. Not a great chance, but he had to check.

"Nine," Steve said softly.

Well, crap. Not unexpected, but still. Bucky nodded, making sure to keep smiling. "You look about nine." He was actually really small for a nine-year-old, but Pre-Serum Steve had always been little for his age.

"Alright," Bucky said, ignoring the worried murmurs of the rest of the team behind him. "The reason I know your name is because I know you. Do I look familiar to you?" He doubted very much that Steve would believe him if he just told him he was Bucky.

Steve tilted his head, studying him. "Well," he said after a minute. "You…" He paused, like he was afraid he was about to get the answer wrong. "You kind of look like my friend Bucky's dad."

Bucky's smile grew a little bit at that, amused and a little bit touched to think he looked like his pop. He'd never really thought about that before.

"But you're not Mr. Barnes," Steve continued, a slight question punctuating the remark.

"No," Bucky confirmed. "I'm not. You're close, though. Why don't you look me in the eyes—a good, long look—and see if you don't recognize me." If Steve could recognize him on his own, that would make things a lot easier, and Bucky didn't think it was too much of a gamble. No one knew either of them as well as the other one, even back when they'd been that little.

Steve shuffled forward awkwardly in his over-sized uniform, hesitating, then moving closer, then stopping, then moving again, until he was inches from Bucky's face. He narrowed his eyes and stared intently into Bucky's. After a minute, Bucky saw a spark of recognition catch, followed quickly by a furrow of skepticism across his eyebrows. He tilted his head, as if the new angle would offer a clearer answer, then his little hands shot up and grabbed the sides of Bucky's face and he leaned in until their noses were almost touching.

"Bucky?" he whispered.

Bucky smiled warmly. "Hiya, Stevie."

"But," Steve said, letting go of his face and backing away a few inches. "But what…" He looked him up and down as if confirming what he saw. "You're all grown up."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. This probably wasn't the right moment to point out that it was actually Steve who was the incorrect age.

"What happened?" Steve asked.

"To be honest with you, Stevie, I have no idea," Bucky admitted. "But we're gonna figure it out," he said firmly, because even if Steve didn't have any idea what was going on or what needed figuring out, he was still scared. "I promise."

"Okay," Steve agreed, and that seemed to settle him a little. Bucky felt warmth spreading in his chest at the realization that the little guy trusted him that much.

"Now," Bucky asked, reaching out and putting his hands on Steve's shoulders. (Dear Lord, he was skinny!) "Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" Even if the rest of them had broken his fall, he'd still dropped several feet, and who knew what the glowy green light actually did to him.

"I'm okay," Steve said.

"And your asthma?" Bucky asked, figuring that was back now too. "Are you breathing okay?"

Steve nodded. "Uh huh."

"Okay," Bucky said, getting to his feet. Big Steve had a tendency to downplay how much he was hurt, but Steve hadn't really done that when he'd been this little, so he believed him. Now that the immediate crisis was in hand, there were still giant dragon-fish aliens flying around the building. "Where we are right now isn't very safe, so what say we get out of here, huh?" Steve nodded quickly, clearly unnerved by his surroundings even if he didn't know why. "It might be a little tough to walk in all that," Bucky went on, gesturing at the folds of Steve's uniform. "Is it okay if I carry you?"

Steve glanced around the room uncertainly, then nodded again, looking up at Bucky. Bucky smiled and scooped him up, and he could tell the little guy was trying hard to be brave, but the way he nestled in against Bucky's chest told him how scared he really was. He wrapped his arms protectively around him and patted him on the back. "Okay, I gotcha. Let's get out of here." He started walking, casting a questioning eye around at the others, but they all seemed to agree that whatever had happened, this was no place for a kid. "If you find anything," Bucky said to Stark, nodding significantly down at Steve. "You call me. But we're gonna go wait in the Quinjet."

"Yeah," Stark nodded, still staring at Steve in shock. The attention of Stark and the rest of the team was clearly making Steve uneasy, and he shifted a little closer into Bucky's chest. "Yeah," Stark said again, nodding and pulling himself back together. "Let's catch us a glowing guy."

They were mostly quiet as they made their way back to the jet. Bucky was keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of the monsters, one hand securely around Steve and one hand holding his gun at the ready. Steve had both hands wrapped around Bucky's neck and seemed aware of the seriousness of the situation, clinging tighter to Bucky when they passed one of the dead creatures, but not saying anything to distract him.

"Hey, Bucky?" he asked softly, once they made it outside uncontested.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, relaxing a little but not letting his guard down entirely.

"I was wonderin'…" He trailed off for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase his question. "It wasn't you that got big all of a sudden, was it? I got little, didn't I?"

Bucky arched an eyebrow, surprised. "How'd you figure that out?"

"Just 'cause, I mean, I don't know how I got here, and everybody back in there was lookin' at me all weird, and my clothes are too big, and so, well…I'm supposed to be a grown up too, aren't I?"

Bucky smiled. "You always were a smart cookie, you know that?" That got a little smile out of Steve. "Yeah," he agreed with a sigh. "You are supposed to be a grown up." He looked down at him seriously. "You know I wasn't trying to hide that from you, right?"

"I know," Steve said, giving him a small, but warm smile. "But you don't know why I'm little now?"

Bucky sighed. "No. I mean, I saw it happen, but I don't know how it happened."

"I don't remember being grown up," Steve went on. "I just feel like I oughtta be nine. I don't remember getting little again, either."

"What do you remember?" Bucky asked curiously.

Steve frowned thoughtfully, considering. "I remember going to school. We were learnin' about fractions. Then you and me climbed some trees until dinner time. Me and ma had spaghetti, then we listened to a murder mystery on the radio. Then I took a bath and went to bed, and then…then I was in there," he finished, nodding back at the warehouse.

"Huh," Bucky said. That sounded innocent enough.

"How old am I supposed to be?" Steve wondered.

Bucky chuckled. "Well, that's…There's a long story to answer that question, but I guess the easy answer is that you should be twenty-eight."

"What's the hard answer?"

Bucky climbed up into the jet, sealing the door behind them as he considered. He didn't see the harm in giving him the whole story—besides, it would become fairly obvious fairly quickly that it wasn't 1947 outside. And they probably had a while before the rest of the team cleared out the monsters.

He settled Steve into one of the seats on the side of the plane and started talking. Steve listened intently, not interrupting once as Bucky told him about Dr. Erskine and the formula, World War II, Hydra, the Valkyrie, the ice and waking up in the future. He told him about the Avengers, what each member of the team did and their assorted superpowers. Steve's jaw was just about on the floor by the time Bucky was done.

"Wow," Steve breathed. "That's so cool." He was quiet for a few minutes, absorbing everything Bucky had said. "I really grow up to be tall?" he clarified.

Bucky laughed. "Seriously? Super-soldier strength, frozen in time, and aliens, and that's what you take away from this story?"

Steve huffed a soft laugh, blushing a little. "I just never figured I'd be tall, is all."

"Yeah, well, you get even taller than me one day," Bucky told him.

"Awesome," Steve said. "Hey, um, is it okay if, I mean, do you mind if…Is it alright if I ask about your arm?" he asked timidly, nodding at Bucky's metal arm. "Is it, I mean, if you don't wanna talk about it, that's alright," he went on hurriedly. Steve was smart enough to have worked out that the arm was a prosthetic, even if he'd never seen one that advanced, and he was sensitive enough to know that people didn't always like to talk about things like that. He was clearly curious, though. Bucky had caught him shooting covert glances at the arm since they'd sat down.

Steve blushed a little. "It's just, after 1945, you weren't in that story much," he added, as if explaining his reasoning for asking the question. "Did something happen to you?"

Bucky sighed. He hadn't really wanted to get into all of that with Steve, but he'd never been dishonest with him before and he didn't intend to start now. "Yeah," Bucky sighed. "I'll tell you, because you deserve the truth, but this part of the story is a lot messier than the first part," he warned him. Steve nodded solemnly.

Once again, Steve didn't interrupt as Bucky spoke. He told him about Hydra, what they did to him and what he did afterwards. He told him about DC last year, and Steve finding him and saving him. He told him about running away and then coming home.

Steve's eyes were just as wide as they had been after the first story, but now they were pooling with tears. Bucky looked down at him warily, wondering if he'd shared too much of the darkness, and prepared to get up and move away in case Steve was afraid of the monster that had been inside him.

To his surprise, Steve flung his little arms around Bucky's middle and buried his face in his chest. "I'm so sorry, Bucky," he whispered. He hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry you got hurt so bad," he said softly.

Bucky smiled warmly. "It's okay, Steve," he told him. "I'm okay now."

"How?" Steve asked tearfully. "After all that bad stuff…"

"You wanna know how?" Bucky asked him, one finger tilting Steve's chin up so he was looking at him. "I'm okay because of you. You saved me, Stevie," he said, swallowing down a waver in his voice. "You saved me, and you helped me get better." He hugged his little friend against his chest. "That's how I'm okay."

Steve hugged him back tightly. "I'm glad you're okay," he whispered.

They sat there for a couple of minutes, then Steve sat back up. He looked at Bucky's arm curiously, ghosting a finger over his forearm but not quite touching it. "Does it hurt?" he wondered.

"A little," Bucky said. He reached up to tap his shoulder, where the metal met flesh. "Right here. Not bad, just kind of sore." Steve still looked worried, and not too far off from tears again, so Bucky held the arm out for him to inspect, hoping to distract him. "You can touch it if you want."

Steve rested cautious fingertips on the metal, then curved his hand around the forearm. He ran his hand slowly across the limb, gasping when Bucky twisted his arm and the plating shifted and reshaped. "Wow," he breathed. "It moves like muscles."

"Uh huh," Bucky confirmed, flexing and twisting it a little more to demonstrate.

Steve watched in fascination as Bucky curled and uncurled his fingers, his own hand mirroring the motion.

The door of the Quinjet hissed and opened, and Steve startled and jumped back against Bucky. Bucky's gun was up in his hand again before he registered that it was Stark coming up the ramp. "Took you long enough," Bucky said.

"Yeah, well, the portal-jumping aliens are a little hard to chase, due to, you know, the portal jumping and all," Stark snapped.

"We got them all, though," Natasha said. "But no sign of the portal-opening guy. He must have taken off, because no more creatures were coming through."

"We'll find him, though," Stark declared. "Now that we know what to look for."

Bucky decided to wait a while before asking how long he thought that might take. If they were going to have to hunt the guy down, it looked like Steve might be staying little until then, and there was no need to freak him out. Speaking of which, Steve was huddled against his side, staring warily at his team mates as they boarded the jet. Rhodes, Sam and Thor had clearly gotten some sort of heads-up about what happened, and they were hiding their surprise at being face to face with it with varying degrees of failure. Barton, Natasha and Stark weren't doing much better.

They did all, however, seem to realize their attention was making Steve uncomfortable, so they backed away to different seats and areas of the jet to give him some space and allow Bucky to make introductions one at a time.

"So, I've explained a lot for him," Bucky told Natasha, and he knew everyone else was listening well enough to hear it too. "But he doesn't remember anything past being nine years old, so, some reintroductions might be in order. Steve," he said, looking down and patting Steve's arm. "This is Natasha."

"Hello," Steve said politely, more at ease now that the whole team wasn't being thrown at him all at once. "Nice to meet you, ma'am." He held out a hand. "I'm Steve."

Natasha smiled warmly. "Hi, Steve," she said, shaking his hand.

Bucky introduced each of them in turn, and they all held their composure reasonably well, though Stark, for possibly the first time, seemed at a loss for words.

They took off, and though Steve stayed glued to Bucky's side, he loosened up a little as the journey went on. Bucky hadn't seen the side of Natasha that was good with kids before, but she sat there next to Steve and asked him questions about himself and what he liked to do, and answered questions about the plane and some of the Avenging stuff they did. When Steve seemed settled, Barton came over and joined them, pulling out a deck of cards. They shifted down the floor to play Go Fish, and Thor—eager as always to learn new Earth games— and Sam joined them. Steve seemed most in awe of Thor, but quickly warmed up to the genial giant.

"Coming up on home," Rhodes announced from up front.

"Come on," Bucky said, standing up. "You're gonna wanna see this, Stevie." He picked him up again—he was wrapped up enough in his over-sized uniform to stay decent, but they were going to have to find him some kid-sized clothes pronto—and walked up to the front window as they broke through the clouds.

Steve's jaw dropped. "Whoa," he breathed. New York City lay stretched out before them. Standing up proudly amid all the other skyscrapers was Avengers Tower, gleaming in the sunlight. "Whoa," Steve said again, lost for anything else to say.

Bucky smiled, and he caught Natasha doing the same. Yes, this was a very, very not good situation, but the wonder on Steve's little face was something else.

Bucky carried Steve down the ramp when they landed on the roof, which was just as well. He would have tripped over himself in that giant uniform anyway, but the wind was strong enough up here to blow the little guy right off the side.

"Alright," Stark said, once they were inside. "I'm gonna head down to the lab and get started on that," he said, pointing at Steve. "There's some stuff for him down in his quarters—get him changed and bring him down so I can take some readings."

"What do you mean there's stuff for him?" Bucky asked. "You keep a spare set of kid's clothes laying around the Tower?"

"No," Stark huffed. "But I have one-hour delivery from Amazon."

"You get one-hour delivery?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Perk of being Tony Stark. F.R.I.D.A.Y. took a quick scan on the jet and got some measurements, so it should all fit him fine."

Bucky nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

They got into the elevator with Natasha and Barton, and once the doors were closed, Steve said quietly, "I can change myself, you know. I don't need you to do it for me."

His cheeks were red, and Bucky gave him an encouraging smile. "I know. He didn't mean it like that."

"Stark doesn't always think through what he's saying when he's focused on something else," Barton added. "He talks to everybody like that."

"He's not so bad once you get to know him," Natasha said. She smiled. "You thought he was kind of rude the first time too, but you guys are pretty good friends now."

"Okay," Steve said, still a little skeptical about that last part, but too polite to say so.

They all got out of the elevator, and Bucky and Steve headed for their end of the wing, and sure enough, there was a pile of delivery boxes sitting on the couch just inside Steve's quarters. "Wow," Steve said as Bucky opened them. "Mr. Stark got all that for me?"

"Yep," Bucky said. Hopefully, the amount of things Stark had ordered was just part of his general attitude of excessiveness, and not a reflection on how long he thought it might take to fix this. "I'm gonna go across the hall to my room and get changed too," he said, pointing through the open door to where his was visible. "Come get me when you're ready, alright?"

"Okay."

Tony stepped out of the Iron Man suit and it flew off to its lab for repairs and cleaning. Seriously, what was it with aliens and the disgusting bodily fluids going everywhere? "F.R.I.D.A.Y., bring me up the specs on Captain Tiny," he said, shoving the question aside for later and studying the data flowing across his screens. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had taken some preliminary readings on the jet, and that would be enough to give him a base to start looking at until they got down here. "Oh, and see if you can find anything on that portal guy."

"Yes, Boss," she said. Tony was still getting used to the fact that even though they had the same programming, she was more succinct than J.A.R.V.I.S. had been.

Tony studied the data, which was not very helpful at the moment. No glaringly obvious signs of anything wrong, anyway, but since when was he ever that lucky? He shook his head, snagging a handful of trail mix from a bowl on the table as he studied a string of numbers. This was…There was a lot of weird stuff that went on when you were an Avenger, but Tony didn't think he could think of anything he'd seen that was weirder. This was like a science fiction cliché, right here. And why did he seem to be the only one freaked out by it? Well, okay, not the only one, but everyone else seemed a lot cooler about it than he was. One of his best friends was a literal child. Natasha was, okay, very little actually seemed to phase Romanoff, and Clint was always something of a mystery. Sam should be more freaked out about this, though, and what about Barnes? You'd think this was a weekly occurrence, as smoothly as Barnes was handling it. Good with children was not a skill set Tony had pictured the Winter Soldier having, to be honest, though not freaking out externally probably came from somewhere under all that programming.

Anyway, back to the problem at hand. The door swished open behind him while he pondered his screens, and he heard a little voice gasp. He turned around to see Little Steve staring in awe at the room around him, and Tony had to smile a little at that. He always acted too cool for it, but he really did love impressing people.

"Hang on," Barnes said, putting one hand on the little guy's shoulder and pulling him back a couple steps, though he was looking at Tony. He pointed at the bowl of trail mix. "Peanuts," he said. He pointed back at Steve. "Deathly allergic."

"Oh, right," Tony said. He was aware somewhere in the back of his brain of all of Steve's original ailments, but he'd never given them much thought before, seeing as he'd only ever known the jumbo-sized version. "DUM-E, clean that up," he said, waving at the table, moving to a corner sink to wash his hands. He washed them a couple of times, followed by a healthy dose of hand sanitizer before he came back. Last thing the kid needed after a day like today was anaphylactic shock and a trip to the E.R.

"Sorry," he said, walking back over to the two of them. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., pull Cap's old allergies from his file and make sure the kitchen gets a list of that."

"Yes, Boss."

"Thank you," Barnes said.

"Don't mention it," Tony said. "Should have thought of that earlier. You really think that's all back?"

"Seems safer to act like it."

"Good point. We'll check for it in the scan." He patted one of the stools. "Hop on up, Cap."

Steve's eyes snapped back to him from where they'd still been roaming the lab in wonder. "Me?" he clarified.

"Yeah," Tony said. He tried not to stare as the kid clambered up onto the stool. It was one thing knowing Cap used to be a runt, but seeing it—not to mention the kid-sized version—was still frying some circuits in Tony's brain. He never would have guessed the kid was nine. He barely came up above Barnes's hip. He was skinny too—F.R.I.D.A.Y. had ordered some good clothes for him, but the jeans and t-shirt still hung a little loose.

Steve sat up on the stool and shifted a little. "Um, thank you for all the clothes and everything," he said, folding his hands in his lap. "That was really nice of you."

"Don't mention it," Tony said, waving a hand. "Couldn't just leave you to run around naked."

Steve didn't seem sure what to say to that, so he just didn't say anything.

"Okay, I'm gonna need a blood sample," Tony told Steve. "But I promise, that's the only part of this that's gonna hurt."

"Okay," Steve said, sticking out his arm. Tony was a little surprised at his nonchalance, but then, with as sickly a kid as Steve had been, he was probably used to needles and stuff.

Tony took a quick blood sample and slotted it into a machine to start analysis. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., start deep scans," he said. The air around Steve started humming as the A.I. set to her work. Steve looked up and turned his head to follow the noise. "No, no, stay still," Tony said. "Just for another minute."

Steve blushed and returned to his original position. "Sorry, Mr. Stark," he said.

Tony winced internally. Big Steve would have cocked an eyebrow and wiggled a little more before complying, never mind that he actually just called him 'Mr. Stark'. "Don't worry about it," he assured him. "And you can call me Tony."

Steve didn't seem sure what to say to that either.

"All done," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said after a minute.

"Who's that lady that keeps talking?" Steve asked, looking around the room to confirm there was no one else there.

Barnes answered before Tony could figure out how to explain the A.I. to a nine-year-old from the 20's. "It's a robot that lives in the ceiling," he said. "She kind of runs the building."

Steve's jaw dropped, and, okay, that was kind of adorable. "You have a robot?" he asked Tony.

"I've got all kinds of robots," Tony replied. "I can show 'em to you sometime if you like."

Steve nodded eagerly. "That would be really neat!"

Tony couldn't help but smile back a little at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, totally. Maybe after dinner. Right now, though, I gotta work on this. You can get down, by the way," he added when Steve stayed perched on the stool.

"Does it tell you anything good?" Barnes asked, nodding at the streams of data on the screen.

"On the surface, no," Tony admitted. "It looks like he's just a nine-year-old kid. Although, the medical records from what we just got do match his old ones—allergies and all, and the blood sample is serum-free but it checks out. So, at least we know he's not a clone or a duplicate or something. He's nine, but he's one hundred percent Steve Rogers."

The look on Barnes's face told him he hadn't considered that. "That's good. You need anything else, or should we get out of your way?"

"No, go on upstairs. It'll take me a while to get through all this," Tony said, wishing Bruce was here to help.

"Okay," Barnes said. "C'mon, Steve, let's go back upstairs." He held out his metal hand and Steve moved over to take it. "Oh, you said the medical records matched the old ones," he said, looking back at Tony. "His asthma—"

"My one-hour delivery has a couple of inhalers with his prescription on the way," Tony said with a smile.

Barnes smiled. "Thanks."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark," Steve echoed.

"Tony," Tony corrected him.

"Thanks, Mr. Tony," Steve said, and Barnes chuckled and Tony shook his head. It was close enough.

Bucky had been handling this whole miniaturization of Steve thing beautifully thus far, but Natasha could sense the freak-out that was bubbling under the surface. She offered to give Steve a tour of the Tower so Bucky could have a few minutes, which he gratefully accepted—after making sure Steve was okay with being left with her.

"So, where do you want to start?" Natasha offered.

Steve considered. "I'd really like to see the robots," he said. "But Mr. Stark said he would show me 'em after dinner. How high up are we? Am I allowed to see outside?"

"Sure," she said. She led him to the balcony off the main living room area.

"Whoa!" Steve exclaimed, rushing to the edge and going up on his toes to look over the railing. "We're so high!" He peered down at the streets below in awe. "Are we higher than the Empire State Building?"

"We are," Natasha said. "See? That's it over there." She pointed to the landmark.

"Wow!"

Natasha grinned. She wondered if, internally, Steve's reactions to the sights and technology of the twenty-first century had been the same when he first came out of the ice.

"Is this the tallest building in the world?" Steve asked.

"No," she told him. "There's taller ones. Not here in New York, though."

"I'll bet it's really pretty out here at night," Steve said, looking out over the city. "With all the lights and everything. Have you ever been out here for the Fourth of July? The fireworks have gotta look amazing from here!"

"You know, I never have," she said, suddenly wondering why she hadn't. "I'll have to make sure I do next time. That's your birthday, right?"

"Yeah," Steve said, turning back to look at her. "How did you…Oh, wait, you know that 'cause we're friends, huh? Sorry I keep forgetting."

"No, it's okay," she assured him as his little face fell. "I don't mind."

"I'll bet it's weird for everybody, huh?" he asked. "Bucky said you guys are all my friends, and I guess I'd think it was really weird if one of my friends forgot all about me. I hope I'm not hurting your feelings by not remembering. I'm not trying to."

"Oh, no, that's okay," Natasha assured him, resisting the urge to tack a 'sweetheart' on the end, though she did kneel down in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. "We all know you're doing the best you can." Every now and then, Steve's resilience still surprised her, and it looked like that was something he'd always had. She supposed it was tough to be upset about things you didn't remember losing, but considering that from where he was standing, he'd been ripped out of 1927 and thrown into the future, he was still handling it remarkably well. She wondered how much tougher this would be without Bucky.

"Nobody's upset with you," she added, patting his shoulder. "We're worried about what happened to you, but we know it wasn't your fault. Nobody's mad that you can't remember."

"Okay," he said with a small, grateful smile.

"So, tell me about your birthday," she said, steering them back inside and back to their original conversation. "Do you have special food or play special games?"

"My ma always makes me a strawberry pie," he said with a smile. "That's my favorite."

"No kidding? I love strawberries too."

"Strawberries?" Clint asked from behind them. "Are we getting strawberries?"

"No, though we might need to later," Natasha said. "We're just doing a tour of the Tower."

"Sweet," Clint said. "Hey, you wanna check out the garage? I can show you my motorcycle."

"Yeah!" Steve said excitedly.

"Where's Barnes?" Clint asked quietly as they headed for the elevator.

"Taking his turn to freak out about this," she replied quietly.

Clint nodded. "Good. I was wondering if he was ever going to do that." He turned back to Steve with a smile. "You ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

"No, sir," Steve said. "But Mr. Barnes has an old broken one that he works on sometimes, and he lets me sit on it, and tells me what some of the pieces are."

"Yeah? Well, we'll see if you can spot them on mine, then. Motorcycles are one thing that probably haven't changed much in ninety years."

Natasha smiled as they left the elevator and began poring over the motorcycle. Clint was quizzing Steve on the parts, and Steve was getting most of them right and laughing at Clint's jokes. This was easy for Clint—or easier, anyway—since he had practice being a dad.

"Miss Natasha, do you know how to ride a motorcycle?" Steve asked, noticing that he and Clint had been chatting away without her.

"I sure do," she said. She grinned slyly. "Beat this guy every time we race," she added, nodding at Clint.

Clint snorted. "Sure; 'cause I let you."

"Clinton Francis Barton, you have never 'let' me do anything, and you know I would kill you if you tried."

Steve giggled into his hand.

"What?" Clint asked.

Steve giggled again. "She middle-named you. You better watch out."

Natasha laughed, then looked down at her watch. "What say we move it upstairs, guys? Time for dinner."

"Oh, good!" Steve said, hopping off the motorcycle. "I'm really hungry. What are we having?"

"Sam ordered pizza."

"I love pizza!" Steve enthused.

"Yeah, we know," Clint chuckled. "Big you ate a lot of it."

"How much did I eat when I was big?" Steve wondered.

"Depends how hungry you were," Natasha allowed. "But you could eat two pizzas easy."

"Nuh uh," Steve protested.

"Between you and Thor and Bucky, we'd go through pizzas pretty quick," she said.

"Two is an awful lot," Steve insisted.

"That's what I always said," Clint said.

"I won't eat so much tonight," Steve assured them.

"You eat as much as you want," Natasha said, again swallowing down the urge to call him 'sweetheart'. (Seriously, what was it with that?) "Even if you do eat two pizzas, we won't run out."

They got off the elevator into the main living area, and Clint directed Steve to the kitchen to wash his hands. "You're such a dad," Natasha teased. Clint rolled his eyes and followed Steve, but Natasha hung back as Bucky appeared from the direction of his and Steve's rooms. "How you doing?" she asked. Aside from the oh-my-gosh-Steve-is-a-child panic that she was sure was still swirling through everyone's heads, on a personal level, she knew this was tougher for Bucky. Not just that this had happened to his best friend, but that Steve was Bucky's anchor—he'd been the one to get him through recovering from what Hydra did to him, and the one who helped him keep his feet when things got shaky. Bucky was better now, but whether he was ready to stand on his own or not, he was going to have to.

"Okay," Bucky said, and he sounded like he mostly believed it. "This is, I mean…" He trailed off and gestured at the kitchen and Steve's voice coming through the door. "But he's alive; he's not hurt; and, you know, now it's my turn to be leaned on instead of doing the leaning, and I can do that. And…" He shrugged, and a little smile lifted one corner of his mouth. "I haven't lost him, you know? He's still Steve."

"Yeah," Natasha agreed. Hopefully Tony could fix this and fix it soon, but, yeah. Steve was still here. She bumped Bucky's shoulder and smiled. "Was he really like this last time he was a kid? Because he is cute as hell."

Bucky chuckled. "He was exactly like this."

"Do you know how many times I've had to stop myself from calling him 'sweetheart'?"

Bucky laughed. "I've definitely called him 'Stevie' more than I usually do. He's just so little and cute he invites that kind of thing, you know? Just don't pinch his cheeks. He hates that."

At dinner, Steve had been introduced to the two remaining members of the team, Vision and Wanda, and they'd handled it just about as well as the rest of them. Everyone was starting to take it in stride, though, and Bucky figured that was good. He could tell it was weirding Steve out when people freaked out about him being little, although it did seem to be more because he didn't know what to do with it than because it hurt his feelings.

People were able to keep up a mostly normal conversation during dinner, even if it was insanely weird that Steve only ate a slice and a half of pizza and declared himself full. After dinner, Stark took him down to one of the labs and showed him some of the Iron Man suits and robots like he'd promised, and it was hard not to smile at the amazement on the little guy's face. Steve was, well, he was ever the optimist, but Bucky didn't know that he'd seen this kind of unbridled joy on his friend's face in a while.

After the robots, Steve started having more trouble swallowing down his yawns, and he didn't argue when Bucky declared it was time for bed, even though it was still kind of early. He showed Steve to his room, and pointed out where everything was in the bathroom so he could get cleaned up. He told him goodnight and pointed out where the door to his own room was again, reminding Steve that he could come across the hall and get him if he needed anything.

Once Steve was in bed, the rest of them gathered in the kitchen.

"Have you had any luck in deciphering this?" Thor asked Stark.

"There's a lot to sort through," Stark said, taking a long sip of coffee. "To be honest, I'm not finding anything promising right now, but it's early stages."

"Guys, what the hell?" Sam asked. "This is, I mean…" He didn't have any more words, but he didn't need them. The rest of them nodded in agreement.

"You have spent the most time with him, Sergeant Barnes," Vision said. "How does he seem to you?"

Bucky exhaled. "He seems…Just like he did last time he was nine. This is just how I remember him. And, yes," he added, holding up a finger to preempt the question he could see forming on Rhodes' lips. "That is something I remember."

"Does he seem worried about his current situation?" Vision wondered.

"I don't think so," Bucky said. "I mean, I'm pretty sure he understands it. But I don't think it bothers him." The uncomfortable thought occurred to him that in some ways, Steve was a lot like he had been when he'd still been the Asset—it was hard to be upset over something you didn't remember losing.

"I think he may be worried about what we think," Nat said. She explained what had happened when she brought up his birthday earlier. "I think he might be worried that we're mad at him for forgetting everything, or that we're hurt by it."

Bucky shook his head. Of course Steve would be more worried about everyone else.

"Are we sure he's forgotten everything?" Barton asked.

"Yeah, dude, he's already told us that he doesn't remember anything after being nine," Sam said.

"No, I mean, yeah, he doesn't remember, but are those memories gone?" Barton clarified. "What if they're still in there, but he can't get at them? The kid thing is, yeah, that's new, but we've seen mind control and memory suppression and people messing with other people's heads before. What if Adult Steve is still locked up in there somewhere?"

It was quiet for a few minutes as they considered that possibility.

"I could check," Wanda offered. They all looked at her. "That sort of thing should be fairly easy to spot."

"It would be a good thing to rule out," Stark allowed.

"I can ask him how he feels about it in the morning," Bucky said. He didn't doubt Wanda's abilities, but nobody was going anywhere in Steve's head without his understanding and permission. "It won't hurt him, will it?" He didn't doubt Wanda's intentions either, but he knew what she did could feel…weird.

"No," she assured him. "It would be painless."

"In the meantime," Thor said. "Have we any news on our friend with the portals? If he was capable of doing this, he is capable of undoing it. Whether he wants to or not," he added threateningly.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s working on it," Stark sighed. "Vision, maybe you could help her out—there's a lot of internet out there, and there's a lot of crap about portals on it, most of which is no good."

"I would be happy to," Vision said.

They drifted off not long after, not really much else left to say. Bucky had so much going on in his head that he doubted he'd be able to sleep. But it had been a long day of fighting aliens and freaking out, and worrying really took it out of a guy. He fell asleep quickly, waking not too much later to the sound of his door creaking open. His hand was already wrapped around the hilt of the knife under his pillow before he registered the tiny figure shuffling into the room. He waited, and Steve, wrapped up in a blanket, came to a stop next to his bed.

"Bucky?" he whispered.

"Hey, Stevie," Bucky said. "What's up?"

"Sorry for waking you up."

"Don't worry about it," Bucky said. "You okay?"

Steve shifted a little uncomfortably. "I can't sleep," he said softly. "My room's all different, and it's big and empty, and dark and, and there's weird noises and stuff…"

Bucky smiled, though Steve probably couldn't see it in the dark. It was totally reasonable for Steve to be scared sleeping in a strange new place, even if he was embarrassed to admit it. Bucky probably should have thought of that earlier, actually. "Yeah, it's always kind of weird sleeping in a new place," Bucky said, letting Steve know he wasn't being silly. "The future sounds a lot different, doesn't it? Took me a while to get used to it too." Steve nodded, and Bucky moved over on the mattress. "You can come up here if you want," he offered, patting the empty space beside him. "Maybe the sound of someone else breathing will help with the weird noises," he said, trying to sound casual so Steve wouldn't think he was babying him.

A grateful smile crossed Steve's face. "Okay," he said quietly. "Thanks." He climbed up and climbed under the covers, still wrapped up in his own blanket. The little guy always did get cold easy.

"Comfy?" Bucky asked, draping an arm loosely across his shoulders. Steve nodded. "Okay. But if you snore, I'm rolling you off the mattress." Steve giggled and Bucky smiled. "Goodnight, kiddo."

"G'night, Bucky."

So there's Day One of Tiny Steve. Next up, Wanda does some investigating, Clint and Steve make pancakes, and the team tries to figure out what exactly one does with a nine-year-old.