Man, SHIELD sucks.

Like, come on. A corrupt government agency led by Nick Fury and a whole bunch of boring people no one cared about? Ugh.

Even Tony hated them. Of course he did. They pretty much took away his freedom as Iron Man. But that was also his immature view of things. He could still be responsible.

…When Steve asked him to.

And sometimes SHIELD does good things. Like find criminals or terrorists, or save people that are in danger. Or pick out random people and just kind of harass them for however long it takes to recruit them. Yeah, okay, not everything is good.

Sometimes Tony gets to witness other stupid and wacky things. Like Norse Gods joining the team. Or America’s Ass. Or a guy turning into a big green monster.

Or the really tense situation between Clint and Nat. That’s a whole other story, but jeez, did that have to be a thing? Why marry some woman when you’ve got Nat right there? It’s always perplexed him, but Clint’s kids are cute, so he doesn’t pay any mind.

But these things still tie in to SHIELD. And I’m the time he’s spent thinking about SHIELD right now, someone had rushed into his office and given him a tablet, and now he’s being told to go out of his way for you.

Turns out, out in some part of Canada, SHIELD agents found a scrap yard full of complex machinery and careful tinkering. At first they thought aliens or terrorists, but then they found you. Some teenager, no younger than fourteen, making so many crazy inventions that they were at Tony’s IQ level.

And Tony had a pretty large IQ.

And then there’s another bit, under your name and age and all the spying the agents have done on you, there’s some more information on you.

Turns out you have tunnel vision.

…How the fu-

———————————————

It’s cold. I mean, of course it is, it’s snowing and he’s in Canada. Geared up in his suit, lowering down to the scrap yard behind the garage he’d been told about.

Tony glances around, watching curiously as snow drifts onto frozen metal and wood. It’s peaceful, at this time. He doesn’t quite mind it. But he’s here for a reason, so he focuses.

Quietly slipping into the garage, he takes in the workshop you’ve managed to create, admiring the technology and the warm lights that give the place a little colour. The heaters are blasting, so you definitely don’t do well with the cold.

The hero’s gaze lands on you, staring at you for a moment. You’re sitting at your workbench, scribbling away at some designs while some of your welds cool down on the pieces of metal you’ve shoved together out of boredom.

This’ll be fine.