Tony was estimated to be about four and a half, but Steve and Bucky had been told that he was old for his age.
He didn't really seem it. At first glance, he was a ball of energy.
"Hello." Steve said softly, bending down to be a little more at the boy's level.
"You're here to adopt me, aren't you? I'm meant to care and be special for you but I really can't be bothered. No one ever keeps me, I've been through thirteen false adoptions."
They had been warned of that. Poor Tony seemed a damaged sort of lad, the social worker had said. He'd been hit very hard on the head, by his parents, it was presumed. He'd lost all memory of his past but he knew his name, and he had showed his extreme intelligence in already knowing words like 'presumptuous' when he woke up in hospital.
Everyone knew that Tony was lying about his memory loss. But they had no way to prove it and Tony functioned just fine without a past.
But he'd been through thirteen adoptions already.
He blew things up during the day and had panic attacks at night. He was hyperactive and he rambled. He had no desirable social skills. And he knew it. Nis words were riddled with low self-esteem and general lack of trust with everyone.
Steve couldn't help but find it hard to remember that he was only four years old.
He was much too small for a four year old (the social worker said that he hates eating). Tiny, and very skinny. His eyes were big in his face and they were very brown. Much like Bruce's.
"Yes, we're here to adopt you." Bucky said warmly. "But we aren't going to rush into it. We don't want to make you or any of our other children upset."
"You don't want me around other people." Tony said. "I'm not good with my peers, I'm too intelligent."