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Ideas by: Anonymous
About: Raising a toddler was supposed to be easier than fighting villains—but Tony and Layla quickly learn that Ryder is a whole new kind of chaos. Between car theft attempts, gadget explosions, and nonstop energy, they're in for the wildest ride of their lives.
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Three years had passed since that night. Tony had fought to come back to his family, and he had won that battle.
But as he stood in the middle of their completely wrecked living room, watching his three-year-old son dangle from the curtains like a trained stuntman, Tony realized something terrifying.
Fighting supervillains? Easy.
Dodging explosions? No problem.
Raising Ryder? Impossible.
"Ryder, get down from there!" Tony lunged toward him, but the toddler let go, flipping midair before landing squarely on the couch. He bounced twice, then took off running.
Layla came storming in from the kitchen, holding a juice box in one hand and a toy car in the other. "What happened—Ryder! You were supposed to be sitting still for five minutes!"
Tony gestured around the room. "Do you see anything in this house that suggests he's ever sat still?"
Their living room was a disaster zone. Cushions were thrown everywhere, one of the lamps was knocked over, and Frostee's latest gadget—something Tony definitely wasn't supposed to let Ryder touch—was smoking in the corner.
Layla groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I was gone for five minutes!"
"Five minutes is an eternity with this kid," Tony huffed. "I told him not to touch the button, and you know what he did? He touched the button!"
Ryder, completely unbothered, grinned up at his parents. "Button go boom!"
Layla shot Tony a glare. "He gets this from you."
Tony scoffed. "How is this my fault? How does a three-year-old kid know how to do all these crazy acrobatics? How does he know how to fight? You taught him."
Layla raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know... maybe because he's a mini version of you? Stubborn, accident-prone, obsessed with cars—"
"I am not accident-prone," Tony argued. "
Layla pointed at Ryder, who was now standing on top of the coffee table, arms spread wide like he was about to dive into an imaginary race.
Tony sighed. "Okay, maybe he's a little like me."
Layla rolled her eyes before turning back to their son. "Ryder, honey, get down before you—"
CRASH.
Ryder had jumped, not onto the couch or the floor, but onto the glass coffee table... which now had a giant crack running through it.
Tony groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm gonna need to send Cisco an I'm sorry gift basket."
Layla exhaled sharply, grabbing Ryder before he could make another escape attempt. "That's it! We're enforcing the rules, Tony. No more letting him do whatever he wants."
Tony frowned. "I don't let him do whatever he wants! He's just... really good at ignoring me."
Layla gave him a look.
"... Okay, fine. Maybe I do let him get away with too much." Tony leaned in and ruffled Ryder's dark hair. "But come on, look at him. How can you say no to that face?"
Ryder blinked up at him, big blue eyes shining with pure mischief. "More boom?"
Layla groaned. "No, baby. No more booms."
Tony sighed dramatically. "I mean, technically, you did name him after a guy who causes chaos."
Layla threw her hands up. "That is not why I picked his name! It's a cool name."
"It is a cool name," Tony admitted. "But admit it, we should've named him Hurricane, because that's what he is."
Layla shook her head. "We need a plan. A real plan. Something that keeps him busy and burns off some of this energy."
Tony scratched his chin. "I could take him to the garage. Let him tinker with some tools."
Layla gasped. "Tony, no! We are not giving a three-year-old access to tools!"
Tony grinned. "Come on, Layla. He's gotta learn sometime."
Layla crossed her arms. "Absolutely not."
"But—"
"No."
Tony sighed. "Fine. What about racing? I could teach him how to—"
"Tony!"
"What?! I'm just saying, he's clearly got the instincts!"
As if proving his point, Ryder slipped out of Layla's grasp and bolted toward Cisco's parked car outside.
"Race car!" he squealed, climbing into the driver's seat.
Tony's stomach dropped. "Ryder, NO—"
Too late. The little speed demon had already found the ignition button and pressed it.
The engine roared to life.
Tony and Layla screamed.
Cisco's voice rang out from the garage. "WHY IS MY CAR MOVING?!"
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