a starter for the papa @justastarkgenius
He’s actually productive for once. He’s actually gotten things done without making a gigantic mess, and without hurting himself or anyone else, and dare he say it, Danny is proud that he hasn’t made one mistake yet this morning. Ah, well... the day was still quite young, and the boy was certain that something would happen later. It was a gut feeling. One he was sure his “brothers” and “sisters” felt as well, even if they weren’t all human like he was now.
Being human was still a trip and a half. Literally. As he pretty well fell out of bed every morning and tripped over his own two feet. Choked on his own spit and food and water constantly, and tended to hurt himself every other moment of the day. It was an understatement to say “I’m sorry!” was his catch phrase, and Tony-- DAD -- he had to play caretaker more and more, and it was beginning to eat away at the man’s time.
So he assumed.
It was times like this, where he hadn’t screwed anything up nor hurt himself nor broken anything that made him think... well, this wasn’t all bad. Maybe Tony wouldn’t heave a sigh the moment he walked into the labs. Maybe he wouldn’t have to untangle the boy from wires or pick him up after face planting... Danny felt just a tad bit useless on the best of days. Yet despite the sighs, and despite having to clean up each day after his child, Tony was always rather supportive of the boy.
Speaking of Tony, Danny had just sat himself down at one of the tables, smiling to himself dumbly and staring ahead-- he very often lost himself to thought. He wasn’t used to thinking and thinking and thinking, and boredom very much consumed him. So, when Tony entered the labs, Danny behaved similar to that of an excited puppy at the sight of their master returning home.
“Dad!” he barks out, a grin taking his features from ear to ear. “I made coffee without spilling it everywhere!” He couldn’t promise the coffee would be strong enough mind you (or perhaps it would be too strong?), but he was proud of the fact he had done something without creating a mess. He leans back into the love seat comfortably, fingers lacing behind his head as he picks his feet up to rest on the table.
“I even--”
It was too bad the table was made of glass, however. And it was too bad Danny wasn’t entirely accustomed to how he should be moving. Glass was breakable, this he knew-- what he didn’t know was that slamming your boot covered feet onto a glass table top would certainly crack or shatter it. Danny wasn’t a light boy. The shattering glass makes him flinch and go wide eyed at the sight, jaw dropping and a wheeze escaping him with shock. “-- I even.. Dad... I’m sorry.”
