Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

these are all clearly tony-centric but most feature the avengers heavily too

mostly whump but also unwhumpy one shots

a lot are inspired by ao3 fics

no longer open to requests as it is complete now !!

stark men are made of iron

tony's childhood with an abusive dad

non-compliant to any of the marvel movies; tony stark as a child

tw: child abuse, eating issues

words: 7205

practice what you preach

requested fic where avengers are against bullying but bully tony without meaning to + stony !

set before all the marvel movies; high school au

tw: sad tony, mentions of assault (hurts my soul to not add abusive howard into it)

words: 8369

practicing what i preach

requested part 2 of practice what you preach where steve finds out more about howard

set after practice what you preach; high school au

tw: sad tony, mentions of assault, abuse?

words: 3145

wealth isn't everything

requested de-aged tony post civil war fic where he's assumed as a spoiled kid (he's not)

set after civil war; tony has been de-aged and natasha takes him to wakanda, following movies do not comply

tw: abuse

words: 6558

why wealth isn't everything..

requested part 2 of wealth isn't everything where tony talks about his childhood to the avengers

set after wealth isn't everything; rogues r pardoned and living together again

tw: abuse (i am going to make this so whumpy cuz talks have to be painful)

words: 3630

love made me crazy

requested fic where tony gets kidnapped leading to steve realising he loves tony

set after avengers: ignoring the following movies, they all live together bla bla

tw: violence and whatnot

words: 3766

i just wanted to be loved

tony's being sexually abused and doesn't know how to stop it 

set before all the mcu movies tony's in; during his MIT era (14-17?)

tw: sexual abuse, self-hatred

words: 3779

tony stark, not recommended 

where tony can't stop thinking about what natasha wrote in her report

set after the first avengers movie; all other movies are non-compliant

tw: self-hatred, suicidal thoughts

words: 4656

breaking the cycle

where tony stark decides he won't be a product of his upbringing

set after spider-man homecoming; non-compliant to any following movies

tw: child abuse, ptsd 

words: 2989

must have been the wind

tony is in an abusive relationship, and steve isn't okay with it

set before iron man; no powers, steve is a regular person but still ripped

tw: abuse

words: 1690

don't touch my son

howard, for once, is not a shitty father

set during tony's MIT era; he is fifteen at the time

tw: assault, rape, attempted rape

words: 3614

i can't eat

where tony can't eat after new york

set after the first avengers movie; following movies don't matter

tw: eating disorder, ptsd, self-deprecating thoughts

words: 4064

you remind me of him

requested fic where tony gets de-aged, mucks ab with peter and steve makes tony feel like shit

set after avengers; following movies dont happen but peter and tony still know each other, around civil war time

tw: ptsd, abuse

words: 3536

i'm dying of palladium poisoning

tony is dying and no one seems to care which just makes him sad tbh

set during iron man 2; obviously before he's cured

tw: suicidal ideation, depression

words: 1762

one last golden egg to give

that scene with obadiah and tony seemed so creepy so im taking my own shot at it

set during iron man; during the scene where obadiah takes tony's arc reactor

tw: rape

words: 1827

i can't shower

its been 3 weeks since afghanistan and tony still can't shower

set during iron man; directly after tony is rescued, ignores everything after that

tw: torture aftermath, ptsd

words: 2236

everyone thinks that we're perfect

everyone thinks steve and tony are the perfect couple (they're wrong)

set after avengers; i make the rules none of the movies after happened

tw: abuse, sad sad sad shit

words: 7338

i cheated on you

tony didnt know that cheating isn't cheating if you didn't consent

set after avengers; following movies dont apply and everyone is happy in the tower together

tw: rape

words: 2222

did you do this to yourself?

tony hurts himself every time someone gets hurt because of him and the team find out

set after aou; end scene where thor leaves didn't happen, clint stayed, they end on bad terms

tw: self-harm, suicidal ideation, grief + deathy themes

words: 4463

did he do this to himself

requested alternate ending to did you do this to yourself where tony dies and the team find his will + goodbye note

set midway through did you do this to yourself; just before nat walks in on tony

tw: suicide, slightly graphic description of death by self-harm

words: 3577

put him down

angstier version of thor strangling tony

set during avengers aou; thor is literally strangling tony as we read this

tw: violence, ptsd, past abuse

words: 1828

you got daddy issues, and i do too

tony finds comfort in the fact that loki understands what its like to be hurt too (request?)

set before all the marvel movies; high school au

tw: abuse

words: 5242

shut up, tony

tony has a bad history with being told to shut up, and the avengers make it worse

set after avengers; everyone lives in the tower bla bla

tw: self-hatred, ptsd, selective mutism

words: 5978

we're sorry, tony

everyone hates tony because they think he's some annoying arrogant jackass 

they then find out everything he's ever tried to hide

set after avengers; bla bla canon divergence

tw: alcoholism, abuse, self-harm, ptsd, mental illness, suicide (yes this is THE whump fic!)

words: 7091

tony stark hospitalised..

the rogue avengers find out just how hard life was for tony after siberia

set after civil war; canon divergence bla bla i make the rules here

tw: mental health shit, suicidal ideation

words: 5809

that will be all, miss potts

tony's saying his goodbyes and no one is catching on

set after civil war; following movies dont apply cuz hes dead lol

tw: suicide

words: 4337

what happened, miss potts?

requested part 2 to 'that will be all, miss potts' where everyone finds out tony's dead

set directly after that will be all miss potts; tony is still dead dont get ur hopes up

tw: suicide mentions, themes of grief/death n whatnot

words: 3314

you made me an arm?

tony accidentally broke bucky's arm and made him a new one

set before iron man; high school au

tw: abuse, eating issues

words: 8521

all i'm good for

tony's ill, natasha's a good friend and everyone else is too hard on tony

set after the first avengers movie; everyone lives in the tower bla bla bla

tw: self-hatred ig idk 

words: 4163

doing it all for love

where tony thinks the avengers only want him for money (they don't)

set in high school; everyone's young but like gen z tech idk

tw: abuse

words: 6519

i am iron man

tony is a consultant and iron man is an avenger

people don't know they're the same person

set after avengers; never revealed himself in iron man 2008, secret identity bla bla

tw self hatred shi idk

words: 5649

it was easier to just let them 

tony has been hurt by sunset and ty and it's affected him in ways no one (him included) realised

set after the first avengers movie; avengers live in the tower

tw: abuse, rape/sexual coercion?

words: 4950

i don't like being handed things

the team finds out why tony doesn't like being handed things (after being a bit mean first)

set after avengers; they all live in the tower bla bla

tw: abuse, ptsd

words: 5797

it was never love

tony is in an abusive relationship and the avengers r tryna figure out whats wrong

set after avengers; they all live happily in the avengers tower! all peace and love!

tw: abuse, suicidal shi idk

words: 5632

do what you want to do

people are leaving tony after the civil war and he can't bring himself to stop them

set after civil war; avengers are pardoned or whatever idk

tw: suicide

words: 5610

i don't want to ruin you

tony and steve get together but tony's the only one receiving shovel talks (it hurts)

set after catws; all the avengers live happily together, bucky is free and lives w them too

tw: self hatred, ptsd 

words: 3299

thank you for getting me high

trying molly (ecstasy, MDMA) is never a good idea when ur already struggling mentally

set during tony's MIT era; the avengers r nonexistent tbh

tw: depression, drug addiction, suicidal ideation

words: 3925

are you okay, mr stark?

i've written a tony finds out peter sh fic now it's time to write it the other way round

set after homecoming; following movies don't apply, post-credit scene didn't happen

tw: ptsd, self-harm, depression, eating issues and j sad shi tbh

words: 5467

money doesn't buy happiness

the avengers think tony has no problems in his life cuz he's rich

set after the first avengers; everyone lives in the tower n wtv

tw: depression, ptsd, suicide, alcoholism, past abuse

words: 6744

show, never tell

tony refuses to talk about his shitty dad, and then his friends see how shitty howard is

set before all the marvel movies; high school au

tw: abuse

words: 6516

love isn't materialistic

tony shows love through gifts but steve doesn't understand

set after avengers; avengers live in the tower

tw: sad shit

words: 3509

i'd never fall in love with you

tony and steve are in a fake relationship, despite hating each other

set before all the marvel movies; yes this is another high school au !

tw: abuse (wow what a shock), assault?

words: 9984

i might've fallen in love with you

part 2 to i'd never fall in love with you, bc i need to get to 50 chapters

set directly after i'd never fall in love with you; spoiler steve did fall in love

tw: abuse, assault (?) mentions, sickeningly sweet fluff and romance

words: 5985

you're the one that hired me?

tony hires a hit on himself as a suicide attempt, but natasha's the one he hires

set before all the marvel movies; a few months before iron man maybe

tw: abuse, sexual abuse, general sad mental health shi, suicide

words: 9768

he hit me and it felt like a kiss

steve's abusive again (but it's actually kinda different)

set before all the marvel movies; its a college au this time not a high school au !!

tw: what a damn shock it's abuse again

words: 8573

this isn't your fault

tony storms out of the tower defenceless after a fight w the team and is assaulted

set after avengers; bla bla u get the gist

tw: sexual assault, mentions of rape, ptsd (graphic but not explicit if that makes sense)

words: 5363

i was enchanted to meet you

where tony's soulmates w steve and bucky but he's too insecure to say it

set after catws; bucky is not mind fucked and they're all happily living in the tower tg

tw: j a little bit of sad shit

words: 6768

you make me feel like a fool

bucky comes back and tony feels like he's lost his family

set after catws; i make my own rules ab bucky's return

tw: j whump tbh

words: 6042

you are worthy, tony stark

the avengers find how little tony's self worth is when he's kidnapped + he can wield mjolnir

set after avengers; everyone is happy in the tower bc i said so !

tw: alcoholism, sad shi, abuse, rape threats (but no actual rape dw guys)

words: 11379

all of these r finished hope u enjoyed reading !!

would like to just say ik all of these fics r heavy and its likely people can relate to some of the issues in them so i'm sorry to everyone who's gone thru shit

hope things gets better soon for everyone hurting <3

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was struggling. Literally. He was on the verge of death, since he decided to drink till he couldn't function normally. At the age of fifteen, he was losing his will to live (or had he already lost it?), was going through all kinds of mental and physical pain and had no support system.

Well, there was Rhodey, but he'd graduated already and was off at military training. He said he'd study at MIT once Tony was there, so that they'd be able to be in the same year, so he wouldn't have to leave Tony all alone again. But Tony knew that Rhodey was probably going to be deployed and sent to fight, because Rhodey was going to be a good soldier.

And there was Pepper, but she was his father's very young interning assistant, who was also Rhodey's age, three years older than Tony, and in her first year at college. She wouldn't be able to do much for Tony, despite constantly being near the Stark Mansion.

He had no friends at school, because he put up a front that made people shy away from him. He sometimes chose to hang out with Tiberius Stone and Sunset Bain, but they didn't really like Tony, and he knew that. The 'Avengers' didn't like him either, and they liked everyone, which was how Tony knew he was a bad person.

Okay, not everyone, but Steve Rogers liked everyone but the bullies, Clint Barton was an extrovert who talked to anyone if he liked them, Natasha Romanoff was terrifying, Thor Odinson was the friendliest almost-giant in the school and, like Rogers, liked everyone but bullies. James Barnes was quiet and almost as terrifying as Romanoff, and then there was Bruce.

Bruce Banner was Tony's partner in science, and they got along well. Bruce didn't talk much, often choosing to stay quiet and do work, but he listened to Tony's rambling almost always, and engaged in conversation when he was given the chance. But he didn't really like Tony, he just liked Tony's knowledge. So he was more of a mutual. Not a friend. Not a support system.

There was Jarvis, though. Jarvis, despite Tony never confiding in him, was always there for the youngest Stark. Whenever Howard got mad at Tony, Jarvis was always there to pick up the pieces, and was more of a father to Tony than Howard ever was.

And Ana, who played more of a motherly role than Maria Stark. She tried for a bit, but eventually her cold marriage wore her down and she turned to intoxicants for comfort, rather than her son, who was more than willing to be there for her. 

So now here Tony was, at fifteen, wasting away because no one was helping him to be better. No friends to physically be there for him, no teachers that actually liked him except one (because everyone at Shield High thought he was an arrogant, spoiled jackass), and several unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Tony was smart. People knew he was smart, but no one knew how smart. He went to MIT for a week before returning to high school, being told he needed to improve his social skills with people his age. But sophomore year was too easy, so he stayed a sophomore but attended senior classes, AP if they were available.

Dr Yinsen liked Tony because not only was he smart, but under the facade, he was a sweet, kind student. Tony often hung out with Dr Yinsen (which yes, might be a bit embarrassing, but he did it regardless) when he didn't want to be with Ty and Sunset. 

Dr Yinsen was the only teacher that paid enough attention to Tony without assuming he was doing something wrong. He was the only one who recognised the pure genius in Tony and appreciated him for it. Instead of giving him tasks he was clearly able to do, the man assigned college level work for Tony.

And when Tony spent his lunch with Yinsen, the scientist supplied him with tools and devices that would allow him to work on whatever he wanted to. It was in Yinsen's class that Dum-E was birthed, and developed over time. His first creation was made in Yinsen's class, and the man was so proud of him that Tony almost cried over it.

Daddy issues, am I right?

"Oi, Stark." 

Tony groaned. He was on his way to Yinsen's classroom to eat lunch in there and work on Dum-E. "What do you want, Hammer?"

"You got my maths homework?"

Tony was smart, but he didn't like doing other people's homework. Ty and Sunset made him do their homework. Hammer forced him to as well. Tony was still scrawny and short in high school, and Hammer was tall and slightly bulky, but not Steve Rogers and Thor Odinson bulky, so Tony was physically intimidated by the junior.

He had denied at first, but then Hammer strangled him and threatened to smash his face in and Tony had given in. He was stronger than that, his father trained him to be, but his school was supposed to be a safe haven from the abuse at home, so he tried to avoid being hurt at school. Which meant he did Hammer's homework.

"It's in my bag somewhere." Tony said quietly, digging through his bag to find the sheets and get away from this annoying boy. A spare part for Dum-E fell out and Hammer picked it up.

"What nerdy shit is this?" He asked. "Seems breakable to me." 

"Don't, Hammer, I need that."

"I need my homework, and you're taking your sweet fucking time." Hammer stepped forward, to which Tony stepped back. Hammer smirked at that.

Tony noticed people staring, the Avengers included, and rushed to get the homework out. He hated crowds, despite being trained at a young age to please them and look good for them. When he finally found the sheet, he handed it over quickly and tried to run.

"Stark couldn't get any lower. Doing homework for other people just because he thinks he's so smart and special." Barton muttered.

Tony felt like shit. He wanted to run away, but Hammer still had him cornered, his back was practically pressed against the locker. "Can I go?"

"You've got this shit to do as well. I want it by the end of lunch." Hammer snarled, shoving a stack of paper into Tony's chest.

"Okay." He said quietly, running off with the paper in his hand, knowing the Avengers were watching and talking about him. He hated that so much.

Tony was a coffee drinker from a young age. He thrived on coffee, and if he wasn't drinking alcohol, he was drinking coffee. His father had no issue with him being out of the house as long as he'd be back before ten, so he usually went to the coffee shop by Shield High and did his homework (and Hammer's) there.

He was sitting, minding his own business, hidden in a far booth behind a laptop and a stack of books, he noticed a group of teenagers his age sitting nearby. When he looked up from behind his laptop, he realised it was the Avengers and turned his music up. He wanted to look as unapproachable as possible.

But then he heard his name, and put his music off completely, keeping his headphones in.

It's not eavesdropping if it concerns you, right?

"Stark is such a prick, I swear. I can't stand him. Always running around like he owns the place, doing other people's homework just because he's smarter than everyone. It's like he doesn't want people to have the chance to learn and develop alone." 

That had to be Rogers. His condescending voice could be recognised from a mile away.

"He's not that bad, Steve." Bruce said quietly, and Tony smiled. 

"What do you mean by that? Stark is as rich, annoying, arrogant and spoiled as you can get. His face alone makes me want to sock his jaw." Barton spat out. 

"He's only like that because he doesn't want to let people in. He pretends to be a prick, but he's actually really nice. He always talks to me in science excitedly, because I get him. He doesn't force me to talk, he talks for both of us. And somehow, he'll notice if I'm off. Tony's not that bad. He just pretends to be."

Tony felt his eyes water. He'd never heard someone speak of him in such a positive way. All people ever say about Tony Stark is that he's Howard's son, a genius playboy who's also a fucking jerk. But he isn't. Not really. No one recognises that, though- except Bruce.

He knew Bruce didn't really like physical touch, but he wanted nothing more than to run up to the boy and give him the biggest hug. Of course, Tony would never, because touching Tony means he wants to get you in bed, because he's a massive slut. 

"I think something's up with him. He's an enigma, and I'm determined to figure him out." Romanoff decided, and that freaked Tony out.

Romanoff could damn well be some fucking superspy, and having her try to figure out Tony would be the death of him. She'd figure him out immediately, and that would be hell. The last thing he needs is the Avengers exposing all his secrets.

"What's the point? All you'll find out is his bank number and how much is in his account." 

"That's good, actually. You reckon he'll mind if we nick a bit from his millions?" Barton joked.

"Quiet, Clint. I don't like being unable to read people. I will figure him out even if it means having to befriend him."

Ah. She would only be friends with him to find out his secrets. Tony knew to stay away from her even if she offered to free him from his abusive father. Because all she'd do after is tell everyone about Howard and probably send Tony right back to him.

"That's mean, Natasha. Befriending him so you can find out all the shit he hides? Wouldn't it suck if someone did that to you?" Bruce asked.

"No one finds out my secrets."

"Not the point."

She sighed. "I guess it would be annoying. Fine. I'll just watch from afar and figure out what the pretty rich boy hides."

She called me pretty.

"If he tries anything with you-"

"Relax, Clint. You know I can take care of myself."

But she still thinks I'm a slut. They all do.

Tony was at the coffee shop for longer than usual that day, because the Avengers didn't want to leave. He couldn't get up and leave, because they'd realise he heard everything, so he hid behind his laptop for hours, music in, doing homework.

Eventually they left, and he waited a few minutes before leaving too. He didn't want to go home, or go to school, or go anywhere. There wasn't a single place in the world he could feel safe in anymore, not even in his favourite coffee shop.

His mother was leaving the house as he got home. It was six in the evening, and her eyes were already red-rimmed, stumbling with the family driver beside her as she led him to a random car. Tony knew she wasn't coming home for a few days, and said goodbye to her.

She didn't even listen.

He walked into his house with a heavy heart. There were days where all he wished for was a loving family, even if it meant throwing away his intelligence, money and slight freedom. He'd give up everything for a loving hug instead of words of hatred and punches to back them up.

His father was in the kitchen when Tony went in to make another cup of coffee. It was too late to turn around and go back to his room, because Howard had seen him. Reluctantly, he went in and made his coffee, trying to ignore the cold eyes staring at his back.

"Where are my blueprints?"

"What blueprints?" 

Howard grabbed Tony's shoulder and turned him around. "You look at me when I'm talking to you."

"Sorry, sir." 

He wasn't allowed to call his own father by anything but sir. It was like being in a harsh workplace, not home. He didn't like that.

"Where are my blueprints?"

"I don't have your blueprints. Maybe one of the cleaners misplaced it?"

Howard slapped the boy in the face. "Don't blame the cleaners for your thievery. Where did you put them?"

"I don't have them." Tony grit his teeth and tried to ignore the cuts on his face from Howard's rings. "I swear. I can help you find them if you want."

"So you can just steal more shit from my office?" Howard spat in the boy's face. "You make me sick. Go to your room. And give me your phone."

"I didn't do anything." Tony pleaded. He didn't like not having his phone, because it meant he had nothing to distract him from nightmares, if he had them. And he felt like he'd have one tonight. 

"Give me the damn phone." Howard tried to yank the phone out of Tony's pocket, but he turned away and accidentally elbowed the man.

Fuck.

Howard was enraged immediately, and the smell of alcohol in his breath was suddenly prominent as he reached down to pick Tony up by his neck. 

Of course he's fucking drunk.

Tony held onto his father's arm, trying to desperately pull himself free. His airways were uncomfortably tight, his eyes widened from the pressure. Howard only tightened his grip and slapped Tony in the face again. The rings tore the skin by his eyebrow, and he felt lucky that that cut would be easy to hide.

Eventually, Howard threw his son to the floor, not caring that the boy had hit his head on the counter. He kicked his son's stomach three times before leaving, muttering about how much Tony was a disgrace, and how he wished he had anyone else as a son.

Tony started hyperventilating on the floor, still unable to regain his breath despite being free. He needed Jarvis. Jarvis could help him, but he had no idea where the man was and no way to call for him, because if he couldn't breathe, how could he speak?

"Are you crying?" Howard turned around at the doorway. He stalked forward and picked Tony up by the neck again. "Stark men are made of iron. It doesn't bend or break. You don't fucking cry because of discipline. You suck it up and do better. Stark men are made of iron. Say it."

Tony could not fucking talk. There was a hand around his neck and he was having a panic attack. How the fuck was he supposed to say anything in such a state?

"Say it."

"Stark men are made of iron." Tony choked out.

"You're pathetic." Howard snarled before dropping the boy back to the floor. He left after grabbing another bottle of Jack Daniels. 

Tony held his breath in an attempt not to start crying. But once the footsteps had quieted, he found himself crying, hiding his head in his hands. He hated himself. He hated himself more than he hated his father.

If the smell of alcohol wasn't so strong, the fact that Howard hadn't tried to hit Tony in unnoticeable places would've been a dead giveaway that he was drunk. He was careful when he was sober.

Tony dragged himself back to his room to check his face in the mirror, crying harder when he saw his cheek red, swollen and cut, as well as his eyebrow. He didn't know how he was supposed to hide that, considering all of his makeup had run out from the last time Howard wasn't careful.

Whatever. No one pays attention to me anyway.

He seemed to have forgotten about the coffee shop.

Tony walked to school uncomfortably. The bruises on his stomach had gotten more painful overnight, especially as he walked. And he had hunger pains, because he hadn't eaten in a while. 

Howard said he wanted Tony to walk to school to lose weight at least two months ago, and ever since, Tony'd been cutting down on his meals. His father body-shaming him seemed to hurt more than the punches. 

He thought if he was skinnier, then maybe his father would love him. Maybe his father wouldn't hit him so much if he was skinnier. If he looked better, maybe Howard would stop grimacing every time he had to look at his son.

The hunger pains were making the bruises feel a thousand times worse, and every time he moved his brows, they pulled on the cut and it hurt. But he walked to school regardless, ignoring the pain.

When he walked in with a bruised and cut-up face, no one batted an eye. If anyone noticed, they didn't care. They simply moved on with life, even if it was a rare sighting to see Tony Stark injured. 

Tony dumped Hammer's homework into his hands and walked away, not in the mood to take anyone's bullshit. It was only then that he'd noticed someone was staring, and weren't planning to stop.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he realised it was Natasha Romanoff, the girl who said she'd be watching Tony to try and figure him out. She would connect the dots immediately, wouldn't she? And then everyone would know how pathetic Tony Stark was, because he couldn't even please his own father.

He ran to his science class and sat down, not caring that he was ten minutes early and not even the teacher had shown up yet. He sat with his head down on the desk, liking the way the cool metal soothed his aching face. Eventually the bell rung and there was some movement next to him.

He did enough work in science. If he stayed hidden the whole lesson, then the teacher would just have to accept it. He knew everything they were learning anyway. He could genuinely teach this lesson in his sleep.

"Tony?" 

Ignore him.

"Are you alright?" Bruce tapped his shoulder lightly. "I can tell you're not sleeping. You're far too fidgety to be asleep."

Tony cursed his body for giving him away. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy." 

Bruce sighed quietly. "Do you want me to do your work for you this lesson? If Miss Smith comes over, I'll tell her you feel sick or something."

"It's okay Brucie." Tony said quietly and reluctantly sat up. If Bruce did his work for him, he'd feel way too guilty. "I'm just a bit tired."

Bruce couldn't help but stare at the bruises on Tony's face. It reminded the boy of his own not-so-pleasant childhood, and he didn't want the same for Tony. He tried to convince himself that not everyone was abused at home, that maybe the boy next to him got into a fight. 

He couldn't help but ask what happened.

"What happened to what?"

"Your face."

"Straight to the point, Brucie. I'm proud." Tony joked, trying to avoid answering.

"What happened? Did you get into a fight?"

"Yeah." Tony replied unconvincingly. "Hammer."

"When?" 

"Lunch."

Bruce had seen Tony after lunch, and there wasn't anything on his face then. Besides, if they fought, there'd be at least a few people talking about it. But no one had mentioned anything, and Tony had only gotten these bruises recently.

"If you say so, Tony."

Tony had gotten uncomfortable immediately. Bruce didn't believe him. And he was probably going to tell the Avengers, and they'd tell everyone, and Hammer would say he didn't do shit, and everyone would figure out Tony was too weak to defend himself against his own father.

He was unnaturally quiet the whole lesson, making Bruce all the more suspicious. Tony was always rambling about something, whether it was his bots or a new TV show he was watching. But he wasn't rambling now. He was quiet. Something was definitely wrong.

"You should've seen him. His face was all messed up and he barely spoke to me today."

"Did you ask what happened?"

As Tony suspected, they were talking about him. In his favourite coffee shop. Again. And he wanted to run out, but again, it was too late. Maybe he'd have to move to the less-cosy coffee shop a few blocks away. He could make it his new safe space.

"He said Hammer and him fought yesterday after lunch. But I saw him after lunch and his face was perfectly fine."

"I saw him too." Romanoff said. "I saw him after lunch, and I saw him this morning. He looked at me and ran."

"Stark ran away from you?" Barton laughed. "Thought he would've offered to take you home or something."

"He's not a slut, Clint." 

Tony smiled. Brucie didn't believe the rumours. 

"Whatever. Who do you think hit him? I'd like to thank them and ask if I could have a turn." Barton grinned. "What? His face is so very punchable. I've been holding myself back. Clearly someone else couldn't." 

"Maybe that's a bit far, Clint." Rogers piped in. "I mean, we're supposed to look out for the little guy. What if we're being the bullies right now?"

"We're not bullies. Sure, we say a few things about him here and there, but so does everyone else. And we didn't fuck his face up."

"I think something's up at home." Bruce suggested quietly, and everyone else went quiet too. They were all aware of Bruce's unfortunate childhood before he was adopted by a better family, so suggesting something like that was serious.

"You're not saying he has a Brian?"

"I think he has a Brian." Bruce's voice was pained. Tony wanted to hug him.

Is he like me? 

"If you think that, I think so too." Romanoff agreed. "He's very skittish and small. He looks like he never eats, he's always jumpy and quiet and tries to avoid being seen. For a Stark, it's incredibly unnatural. He should be trying to flaunt his wealth and act above us all. He doesn't."

"He's still a prick."

"That could be the facade Bruce was talking about. Maybe he tries to push everyone away so no one gets close enough to him to figure out what's really up with him." 

"He was wearing a turtleneck." Bruce mentioned. "When he was resting his head on the desk, I saw red marks around his neck."

They all stared at Bruce with worry. Bruce was very observant when it came to signs of abuse, because he knew of it all too well. So this was just adding to the pile of worries. None of them could believe they were feeling bad for Tony Stark, but they were.

"Do you think- I mean, if he's- if he's got a Brian.." The boy couldn't finish his sentence. "I'm worried about him. He has no one. I don't want him to struggle alone. I wouldn't have gotten away from my dad without you guys."

He's like me.

"We'll help him." Rogers decided. "I know we're not too fond of him, but we help people. And if Stark needs our help, we'll do exactly that."

"How?" 

"First off, we'll get him to eat something. He's never in the canteen, and if he is, he doesn't eat. There's no way he's eating healthily with how skinny and pale he is." He stated. "God, how did we never notice before?"

"Hatred is blinding." Barton said quietly. It was hard to remember how shit his childhood was before Coulson adopted him, but the hearing aid reminded him constantly. Only now did he realise how much of a prick he was to Stark, and if Stark's childhood was similar to his, then he'd spend forever trying to do better.

Because he had his brother, but Stark had no one. And having people berate him and think he's a terrible person must've made his home life only feel worse. 

When they left, Tony wiped tears from his face and tried to figure out ways to avoid them, to avoid even going into school. Maybe he could provoke Howard into hurting him badly enough to keep him off school for a bit.

"Stark men are made of iron. If you have to wear makeup or hurt someone to prove nothing is going on at home, then you will. We show no faults. We don't skip school because you're scared someone's going to find out how much of a pathetic freak you are. Stark men are made of iron. Say it."

"Stark men are made of iron."

Tony managed to find some makeup in his mother's room that matched his skin tone and covered the bruises up. The cuts were harder to hide, so he left them alone. His attempt to skip school was proven futile. All he got was more bruises to hide.

He made sure not to let his turtleneck fall down. 

Bruce looked at him funny in science. It was weird for the bruises to magically disappear, but he didn't care. He didn't really care as long as they left him alone. If they realised he was useless and not worth time time, then he'd be back to normal. No one watching him and trying to help.

"You alright, Tony?"

"Fine, Banner."

Tony winced at the look of hurt on Bruce's face when he said that, but if he stayed friends with Bruce, then the boy would worry. And so would the Avengers. If he cut ties with Bruce, all his other issues would be solved.

Stark men are made of iron. 

He could deal with losing his only friend at Shield High.

Tony was sitting in Yinsen's class at lunch, avoiding food and the Avengers, ignoring the way his stomach was cramping due to his lack of eating, messing around with Dum-E. He was tired and wanted to sleep, and maybe even eat, but he didn't.

Sleep was overrated. All he got from them was nightmares and panic attacks. Eating wasn't that important either. He'd gone a few days without food, and for the past month he'd been eating scarcely. And he was still alive, so he didn't need to eat.

The classroom was dark and quiet, and no one was around, but then a series of footsteps startled him and ruined the peaceful silence. He immediately hid Dum-E and hid under a table. No one needed to find him here.

"You really think he's here?"

"He's always here if not in the canteen." 

Bruce? Tony had been a dick to him, so why did he still care? Didn't they understand that he didn't need help? Didn't need anyone to worry? If he acted like a prick, shouldn't it have been obvious that he didn't want them to keep trying?

"It's dark and the door's closed. I doubt he's here."

"He likes working in the dark."

Tony wanted to scream. Bruce listened to all his rambling and still cared, and that hurt more than he thought it would've. He thought he'd be fine losing his only friend. He didn't even think Bruce considered him as a friend.

Maybe he was wrong.

The door opened and light went on, and Tony felt like an idiot for hiding under a table. He got his phone out and pretended to be on it when footsteps neared and he saw six pairs of shoes right by him. 

"Tony's not here?"

"I hear someone breathing."

Tony held his breath, and his heart almost burst out of his chest when Natasha Romanoff dropped down in front of him. She could tell it scared him and stood up. 

"He's here. Stark, you can come out."

"I'm gay?"

"That's not what- just get out from under the table, Stark." 

Tony, reluctantly, climbed out and sat on the table, dangling his legs as if nothing had happened. He'd never even spoken to them as a group. The thought of doing so when they had basically figured out his biggest secret made his anxiety spike.

"Morning. Was having a nap under there. I don't appreciate being interrupted."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Why are you hiding here?"

"I'm not hiding. I just told you I was having a nap."

Romanoff grabbed his arm, trying to pull him down, but Tony flinched violently, jerking his arm back. She raised a brow, and both Bruce and Barton looked at him with sympathy. Or was it pity? He couldn't tell.

"What was that, Tony?" Bruce asked quietly. "Why did you lie about getting in a fight with Hammer? Why is your face cut up and bruised, and why is your neck red?"

Tony felt sick. He felt completely, utterly sick. He wanted to disappear.

"Stark men are made of iron. I don't have to answer you."

He ran.

Avoiding the Avengers had become impossibly hard after that. They kept trying to talk to him and every time, he ran until he could find a safe place to hide, which often ended up being a janitors closet. 

He got caught in one of them the other day, so he chose to hide on the roof now. The roof was surprisingly peaceful, and he dangled his legs off the edge with AC/DC playing in his headphones. He had no intention of jumping; he simply found it relaxing.

And then the Avengers found him again, and he was truly fucked. There was no way of running from them on a roof, unless he planned on jumping and breaking his entire body.

"What are you so afraid of, Tony?" 

"Nothing." Tony rolled his eyes. "I just want you guys to leave me alone. You need to stop pestering me before I get a restraining order."

Bruce frowned. "Why won't you let us help you? All you've done is made it more obvious that you need help. What's so bad about accepting help from us?"

Because no one has ever tried to help me before. I don't know how to accept help. It scares me.

"I don't fucking need help, Banner."

"What happened to Brucie?"

"Brucie was a friend before Banner started talking about me and convincing your stupid group that I'm some fucked-up anorexic that gets beat at home." Tony spat out harshly. "Well guess fucking what? I'm fucking fine. There's nothing wrong with my home life and I eat perfectly well. Leave me the fuck alone."

His words were painful for all of them to hear, but he didn't care. He didn't bother running this time. Instead, he turned around and put his headphones back in, ignoring them. Ignoring the way his heart hurt when they did what he asked and left him alone.

"I do want help." Tony whispered quietly to himself. "I just don't know how to accept it."

Thor, who had said nothing to Tony the entire time, had never once participated in the discussions about Tony, and basically never spoke to him ever, had come up to him during gym.

"Son of Stark, would you allow me a conversation with you?"

"Alright Shakespeare in the park." 

Tony wasn't afraid of Thor, despite his overwhelming height and muscles. Thor was adorable in every sense of the word. He followed Thor over to the bleachers, avoiding the way his stomach hurt and his feet felt heavy.

Maybe he'll eat something after school.

"Would you care to indulge in my query?" 

"Sure."

"Why do you bear bruises along your skin? I have not listened to my friends, but they speak of you so often that it has come to my attention. I would like to offer my acquaintances, offer comfort and support if you accept it." 

Tony was confused.

"Will you allow me to help you? Not with anything but treating whatever injuries you sustain." 

 "Er, no worries Point Break. I'm fine. Not a bruise on me, see?" He pointed to his makeup-covered face.

"You believe I am a fool." Thor said. "That is alright. My brother does that as well, when he does not want to share his hurt. If you would like me to back off indefinitely, I shall, but if you are like my brother, then let me help despite your hesitance."

Tony wanted help so bad. He wanted the feeling of his stomach cramping constantly to go away. He didn't want to have to hide his body because it was bruised and scarred. He didn't want to have to wear makeup to hide what shouldn't be there. 

He didn't want to lose Bruce. 

And he didn't mind a group of friends caring about him. He wanted a group of friends to care for him. 

He wanted help.

"I don't know how." 

"How what, son of Stark?"

"How to accept help." Tony admitted quietly. 

"That is most alright." Thor held Tony's shoulder, frowning when the smaller boy flinched away. He held on regardless. "If you are anything like my brother, then you do not need to ask for anything. I will help you and make it so that you can, in future, accept help."

"Thanks, big guy." Tony smiled.

He was okay with accepting help from Thor. If only he hadn't passed out in his arms and given the rest of the Avengers a reason to be worried and intervene.

"Ah, Tony, you're up." Nurse Cho smiled. 

"How long have I been here for?" He asked when he realised he was in the nurse's office.

"You fainted about five minutes ago. Thor brought you here, and has refused to leave your side." Cho pointed to the blond. 

"Ah. Thanks Thor." Tony nodded, and Thor nodded back. He wanted to run out of the room, but his head hurt like hell and his body felt weak. Maybe he should've eaten at lunch.

"Here's a bar of chocolate and some juice. I need to check your blood pressure, so if you have that after-"

"No need. I'm fine, see?" Tony practically leaped off of the bed to stand up. His body swayed a bit, to his despair, and his vision darkened, but he stayed standing. 

"You're about to faint again, so sit back down and roll up your sleeve."

Unwillingly, Tony did so. He didn't miss the look of worry and confusion on both Cho's and Thor's face when they saw a scar running up his arm. Tony hadn't even realised it was there until they both looked. He knew exactly when he got it.

His father had thrown several glasses at Tony, and one cut on the wall behind him and a shard flew towards his arm, making a long, deep cut before Jarvis got involved and patched him up. 

"Your blood pressure is really, low, Tony. When was the last time you ate?"

"Lunch."

"No you did not." Thor piped in. "You sat and did work. I did not see you eat a morsel."

Snake.

"Lunch yesterday."

"You are lying once more, Anthony."

Tony groaned quietly. "I ate on the weekend. Whatever. Can I go now?"

"Tony, it's Thursday." Cho said sadly. "Why haven't you been eating?"

"I'm not hungry. Can I go now?"

"I'll have to call your parents about this." 

Tony's head shot up, his heart beating hard against his chest. "No need. I'll eat, okay? I'll eat this stupid bar of chocolate and go have a late lunch. You don't need to call my dad."

Cho's heart broke for the boy, and so did Thor's. Something was up and the Avengers were going to help. Because Tony deserved it, whether he believed it or not.

Cho had to call Tony's parents, by law. So Tony tried not to go home. He went to the coffee shop and forced himself to eat a sandwich there, slowly, and he forced himself not to throw up. He felt so fucking sick, and he hadn't even finished half of it yet.

The Avengers came in and Tony couldn't be bothered to care. He hid behind his laptop as usual until someone sat down in his booth. Actually, six people sat down in his booth. Two of which were beside him. 

Bruce and Thor had sat by him. Barnes, Rogers, Romanoff and Barton were opposite him. He felt claustrophobic.

"Why the fuck are you guys here?"

"You fainted in gym. We wanted to make sure you were alright." Rogers said simply.

"Well I'm fine."

"You also haven't eaten since the weekend." Thor mentioned.

"I lied. For attention. I ate a three course meal for dinner last night and was perfectly full after." Tony said in his asshole voice. 

"Anthony, you accepted my help earlier. Is it the rest of my companions you wish to shy away from?"

"I don't- I'm not some charity case you guys can pick up and make better, alright? I know you guys think you care but you really don't. You're just trying to get the latest gossip or some shit. You can leave me alone."

"We want to help you." Barnes said softly. Tony had never heard his voice before, at least not so softly, because he was usually quiet and observed people. The only time he heard Barnes' voice was when he called some freshman a dick for jostling his arm.

"You guys don't even know me."

"So give us the chance to get to know you." Barton smiled at him. "I know we haven't been the nicest to you, but we want to change that. We want to help you, and be a support system for you. Everyone deserves to have someone."

"I don't- you- Romanoff literally said she wanted to befriend me to find out my secrets. You guys are only interested in me for the sake of being interested. There's no real concern behind it." Tony almost shouted.

"You heard that?"

"I had to stop coming here because every time I was here, so were you guys, and you always mentioned me."

"We are sorry, Anthony."

"It's fine. Just-"

"Don't tell us to leave you alone." Bruce interrupted. "Let us help you, Tony. I know it's hard, and I know you might be afraid of accepting help, but we've got good intentions. And I know what it's like. Let me be there for you."

"You know what what's like?"

"What it's like to be abused." Bruce said simply. The table was quiet out of respect, but Tony was just shocked. 

He knew they'd said things regarding abuse, but he didn't expect Bruce to expose himself so willingly. If that was Tony- well it wouldn't be, would it? Because he was terrified of talking about it. He was terrified of someone finding out and judging him for it.

But he wouldn't be judged by someone who's been through the same, would he?

He didn't have to fear them not believing him either, because they were the ones with the accusation. All he had to do was confirm it, and he'd have the support system he'd craved for his entire life.

Howard Stark is too rich for them to take me away and free me from him. So what would be the harm in them knowing and just being there for me? I'd have someone to talk to, and at least one of them would understand. It's not help, it's support. 

He could deal with that. He wanted that.

"I do too." Barton smiled sadly. It was a shock to everyone but Romanoff. "I understand as well. You have two people who get it, Stark. Let us be there for you. That's all."

Tony couldn't deny the offer when Barton had just exposed his secret for him. That would be the most asshole thing he'd ever done.

"Make that three." Romanoff looked at Barton, who smiled at her proudly. They knew each other's shitty childhoods, the rest didn't. She didn't talk about the Red Room orphanage, and Clint didn't talk about the circus. Coulson saved them both. No one needed to know. But if it helped Tony, they were willing to share their secrets.

Fuck, Tony had to accept their support now, didn't he?

"Four." He said quietly. "Four of us." 

The Avengers wanted to be proud of themselves for getting him to admit it and accept their help, to be proud that they'd figured it out, but it hurt. All it did was hurt to know that they'd severely misjudged the billionaire's son and probably made his life feel a little shittier. 

"I do not understand." Thor said loudly. "But my brother does. My brother was abused back at home by my father. I am lucky my father never laid a hand on me. But he did with my brother, and I've spent eternity helping him with his injuries, and I shall do the same for you, if you are comfortable with that."

"Is he okay? Is he still with your father?" 

Rogers couldn't help but feel worse about his unreasonable hatred for Stark when the boy asked to see if Thor's brother was okay immediately, rather than accept the help. Stark was everything they said he wasn't. He was kind, caring and misjudged. He deserved better.

"He is with me. We moved here together. Now- you cannot distract me. Will you accept our help now?"

Tony nodded slightly. That was all he did. And it was enough for the Avengers, the group that was now his.

True to their words, the Avengers helped Tony Stark. If he had a nightmare, he could text their group chat and at least one of them would be awake to talk to him. It was usually Clint, because he slept at weird times but, you know what, it was enough for him and he got a healthy amount of sleep somehow.

When they found out he stopped eating because his father told him to, so he could please the abusive man, they focussed on trying to help him start eating properly again. They would help by convincing him that starving wouldn't get him anywhere, and his father was just sadistic by trying to malnourish his son with his manipulative words.

Weeks flew by and Tony started to believe he was worthy of eating. He started to believe his friends, and not his 'family'. He told Jarvis that he'd been throwing all the meals he made for him away, and that he couldn't eat because of what Howard said, and Jarvis hugged him and promised to sit with him through every meal.

And he did. Jarvis was with Tony for breakfast and dinner, and accompanied him in his room in case the food upset his shrunken stomach. During lunch, the Avengers would be with Tony, helping him eat and get his weight back up. His skin started to regain some colouring, his face filled in a little and his ribs, collarbones and wrist bones stopped jutting out so much.

Howard made sure to belittle Tony's recovery, made sure to remind him that he was fat and ugly, and that Stark men were made of iron, and iron is not heavy, iron is shiny and flawless. And Tony was not shiny, flawless and was in fact heavy. But Tony didn't believe his father anymore, no, he believed Jarvis and his friends.

When Howard hit Tony, Tony went to Bruce or Clint or Natasha, because they understood. And when Howard hurt Tony, Tony went to Thor, because he would patch the sophomore up in a heartbeat. Tony was comfortable with having Thor touch him, despite his fear of being hurt.

They made Tony feel safe, and supported, and he was recovering from whatever eating struggle he had. He was no longer struggling alone. He still struggled, but he had people there with him to make sure he wasn't hurting by himself.

And it was beautiful.

Stark men are made of iron. Tony is iron. But Tony is also human, and he is beautiful. 

Chapter Text

Tony Stark had a reputation. Spoiled, bitchy and a manwhore. First of all, he was a fifteen-year-old in senior year of high school (when he should've been a sophomore), and he was short and skinny and looked at least fourteen. He was inexperienced in every way and a virgin, so the manwhore title was so, so wrong.

He was the son of a rich man, yes, but he was not spoiled. He had the bare minimum, because even though his father was rich, Howard Stark was not a good parent. He might not have been abusive, but Tony never received attention or positive affirmations from the man. He barely even saw Howard.

Howard Stark was an alcoholic, and he paid very little attention to Tony. He barely even noticed he had a son, and yes, he might've thrown money around instead of love, but Tony rarely used the money. He wanted love, not riches.

Maria Stark was a user too, but she opted for abusing medicinal drugs and smoked often. Tony hardly ever saw his mother, maybe even less than he saw his father, so he was alone in every sense of the word. He wasn't spoiled at all. 

He might've been bitchy, but that was all a facade. How else would he hide the never-ending ache in his heart from not being loved by anyone? If he didn't put people off, then they'd look into his life and realise that he was everything but the rumours. 

Tony Stark was fifteen, a child prodigy, a genius even, but he was not spoiled, bitchy or a manwhore. He was just a teenager in a school filled with people who thought he was everything he wasn't. And if that didn't hurt, he didn't know what did.

Steve Rogers was an asshole. Tony thought that for sure, because even though the boy had bulked up and miraculously gotten over all his health issues, he was still an ass. Before, Rogers was a boy with a heart of gold and a penchant for defending people who were bullied, when he could barely defend himself. After, Rogers was just what he defended people from.

Not to anyone but Tony, though. To everyone else, Rogers was a golden retriever who all the girls and even some guys had a crush on. Rogers was an angel, liked by all, teachers included, and would always stand up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves.

But with Tony, it was like he was the short, weak Steve from before, and Rogers was like the bullies he used to get into fights with. Tony was young and fragile, and though he was strong from being in the workshop all the time, he was still smaller than everyone and weak when it came to defending himself from Rogers.

The rest of the Avengers were just as terrifying as Rogers, except Natasha Romanoff and James Barnes. Those two were beyond terrifying and could easily break Tony into pieces. Thor was a big guy, but he was soft and caring, indifferent when it came to Tony. Clint Barton was funny but intimidating when needed.

And of course, Bruce wouldn't hurt a fly. Tony loved Bruce and Bruce liked him (he hoped) and they got along well in science. If Tony liked someone in the Avengers' group (they got the title from 'avenging' those who couldn't defend themselves), it was Bruce. Bruce was nice. The rest were not.

At least not to him.

"You're pathetic, Stark." 

What had he done now?

"Always a pleasure to see you, Rogers." 

The blond didn't like the sarcasm and crossed his arms, making him look impossibly bigger. "You really can't keep your mouth shut, can you? Always messing around with people who don't deserve it."

"I'd love to know what I've done now." Tony folded his arms over too, but he had no effect compared to Rogers.

"You were flirting with Natasha, even though you know she's happily in a relationship with Clint." 

"Was I?" Tony was flirty, but he'd never flirt with the redhead. She was gorgeous, yes, but also terrifying. Her glares alone made Tony look away.

"During history, you two had to sit next to each other. All you did was flirt and flaunt your wealth. Not everyone can afford the things you can."

Tony was confused now. Flirting and flaunting? When did he do that? "Could you retell the story with a bit more detail?"

Rogers breathed out in frustration. "When you told her she was pretty and that you thought her and Clint looked like a good couple. Flirting and then mocking their relationship? And then pulling out your expensive MacBook and rolling up your sleeve to show your expensive watch? Could you be any more spoiled?"

The MacBook was a gift from Jarvis, who had gotten it for Tony's fifteenth using his raise from Howard to pay for it. "Your father bought it in a way. He just let me choose what to get." And the watch was a family heirloom he'd been told to wear. "Be proud you're a Stark or relinquish the title."

He wasn't spoiled. But of course, everyone assumed he was.

"I called her pretty because she is. I noticed she got a new haircut and told her it looked nice. It's called being polite. And I didn't mock their relationship. She told me Barton cut it for her and I said they were an adorable couple." Tony explained.

"I don't want to hear your excuses." Rogers dismissed the explanation. "Stop flirting with anyone who breathes and leave Natasha alone."

"Well, she sits next to me in history so I-"

"Shut it, Stark."

"Shut up, boy. Your suggestions are fucking useless. Stark Industries is a weapons company. I will not put my reputation down by selling robot animals. Pathetic."

"Tell me, Rogers, don't you hate bullies?" Tony raised a brow. "Isn't that your thing? Saving weak kids from people who shout at them and put them down?"

"Yeah?" The blond was confused.

"Practice what you preach." Tony smiled mockingly and walked away, not wanting to further an argument.

God, school was tiring.

He wasn't crying. He was definitely not crying. There weren't tears pouring out of his eyes and falling onto his pillow. He was happy. He was not sad.

"You're pathetic, Stark."

Tony was really fed up of all the shouting, all the hatred. He felt like at least once a day, someone told him to shut up, or that he was a terrible person. It hurt most when it was Howard, but Howard barely spoke to him anyway. Was that worse, since their only interactions were negative? 

He didn't know. All he knew was he was so over it. Life was so tiring. He wanted to go back to when he was younger, when his mom was more present and actually paid attention to him. When she used to play with his hair, hug him and teach him Italian. When she sang lullabies and played the piano with him.

He read a study once that people who didn't receive affectionate touch were more likely to be depressed, stressed and have anxiety. It was linked to alexithymia, where people struggle to identity feelings and find it hard to start and keep relationships.

He had love from Ana and Jarvis, but they were less physically affectionate now that he was older. Tony knew that they weren't put off now that he wasn't a cute little kid, but he still worried that they thought the same thing people at school thought- that he was a slut and would get in bed with anyone that touches him.

(He knew, rationally, they didn't. But he's alone far too often and too touch-starved, and his mind chooses to think the worst possible things because of it.)

Tony hated crying. He felt weak, because Stark men were made of iron. But also because no one ever came to wipe his tears away, and tell him that it's okay, and let him talk about why he's crying. All he wanted to do was busy himself in the workshop and forget he could feel.

But he couldn't, because Howard was home.

He really hated being Tony Stark.

Steve Rogers was beautiful. Tony couldn't tell if he was his daddy issues attracting him to someone who made him feel like shit, or if he was genuinely attracted to the blond. He was the definition of perfection. Tall, blond, blue-eyed, very well-built and an artist, all with a heart of gold (except when with Tony).

Tony hadn't known Steve back when he was a scrawny, asthmatic kid, but he'd heard all the stories of his bravery, and then he had met the new version of Rogers and all he wanted was to befriend the boy. And then someone spread rumours around, in his freshman year, and Rogers looked at him like scum.

It had been two years and nothing had changed. The blue-eyed boy still looked at Tony like he was a murderer, and Tony still looked at the blue-eyed boy like he was the definition of perfect. (And didn't that just hurt?) 

Just because Tony admired Rogers, did not mean he would hold himself back and let himself get picked on. Tony had a reputation built on lies, but some of it was true. Argue with him and he'll argue back. If there was one thing Howard Stark taught Tony, it was to defend himself. He'd never let himself be the weak one.

Even if it was how he felt around Rogers.

Was it right to feel so attracted to someone who hated him? Tony didn't know, and of course he wouldn't. His parents' love was all a lie and their love for him was nonexistent. His perspective was fucked up.

It was the little things that made Tony feel funny, like someone was pinching his cheeks to make them blush and his heart was on a treadmill, making it beat fast. When he saw Rogers standing up for someone, fuck, he found that attractive. Seeing the blond in his element in the art room, drawing perfection with his bare hands.

God, so much about Rogers was attractive. Tony was human, of course he'd find Shield High's golden boy attractive. Could anyone blame him?

Tony hated Rogers. He might've been attracted to him, but he also hated him. His feelings were constantly changing and he wasn't even sure if he could decipher his own feelings. Was he in love or was he in love with an idea of them? He didn't know.

But right now, he wanted to murder the perfect blond. 

"I'm stuck with Stark in business." 

Get out of my coffee shop.

"Stark?" That had to be Barton. "Oh, you poor thing. Watch, maybe he'll flirt with you too."

"He wasn't flirting with me." Romanoff was defending him? "He called me pretty. You guys do it on a daily. Is that flirting?"

"It's different because he's Stark." Barnes stated. "He flirts with anyone and everyone. You can't just assume he's being nice, because you'll let your guard down and you'll get assaulted in a closet."

Tony felt ill. Of course, some girl had twisted a story about him, saying he assaulted her rather than saying that she was the one who dragged him into the closet on a bad day, trying to get in his pants. He had been in an uncomfortable, cramped space, with someone trying to make out with him, so he accidentally hit her whilst trying to push her off.

She went crying to her friends, saying Tony had tried to get in her pants and he hit her when she said no. After that, he was suspended, and barely managed to stay in school if it wasn't for Howard. He begged his father to let him stay instead of send him straight to college. Howard locked Tony in a cupboard and told him to think about what he did, for the entirety of his three-day suspension.

But he was still back at Shield. Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it.

"He won't hurt any of us." Bruce said quietly. "Besides, we're 'Avengers', no? You guys all have a reputation of being very capable of defending yourself. Why would he ever try to hurt you guys?"

"Money." Barton said, and Tony could hear him chewing loudly as he spoke. "He bought his way out of the assault incident. He could easily do it again."

That's not fair.

"Stevie can defend himself." Barnes nudged his best friend. "And if Stark tries anything, Natasha and I can give him a little talk. He'll be scared enough to back off, for sure."

Tony wanted to throw his laptop at their heads. The idea of Barnes and Romanoff actually talking to him, threatening him, made him genuinely afraid. They were two years older and were suspiciously well-trained in self-defence. Tony had watched a senior who was caught attempting to assault a freshman get hurt by the two maybe-spies, and he'd been wary ever since.

If there was one thing Romanoff and Barnes were, it was intimidating. And they lived up to their reputation. Tony would stay away from them if it meant jumping off a bridge.

"Should I stay home tomorrow so I don't have to do double business with him?" The blond asked, and Tony felt his heart break. The perfect-attendance, perfect-student Steve Rogers would sacrifice all of that just to avoid him?

Was he that bad?

"Don't." Romanoff said sternly. "You've got to keep up your one-hundred-percent attendance, remember? After all those days you skipped before you got better, you have to stay in now. Unless you're literally dying."

Tony heard a sigh, and assumed it was Rogers. 

"Alright."

Maybe Tony should skip instead. Do the perfect boy a favour.

Tony had tried to stay home, but Jarvis had ushered him out of the house, and then demanded the family driver walk him into school so Tony wouldn't run as soon as he was dropped off. Tony thought the rumours about him being spoiled would only exacerbate if that happened, so he complied.

He knew Jarvis was doing this out of love, but he hated the man for it. (He would never hate Jarvis. He just didn't know what his own feelings were most of the time.)

Tony walked into his business class just as the bell went, and he made eye contact with Rogers. The blond looked bored, annoyed even, and looked away, like Tony wasn't even worth looking at. 

It made the brunet's heart ache.

"I can ask to move seats if you don't want me to sit next to you." He offered, wanting the hatred to go away. He was unbelievably fed up of being hated by everyone. 

"And what if she says no? Gonna bribe her instead?"

Tony went quiet. He was really not in the mood to argue today, or any other day honestly. He wanted to go to high school so he'd have a teenage experience, to get the secondary socialisation he needed before moving up to college. The first two years were awful. Maybe he should've just gone to MIT instead.

"I don't bribe people."

"So you got caught assaulting someone and managed to stay in because of, what, your charming personality?"

"Are you suggesting I slept my way back into this school?"

"You said it."

Tony felt sick. Maybe he really did need to go home. "Remember what I said last time I spoke to you?"

"What?"

"You really need to practice what you preach." And then Tony was gone, walking out of his lesson without a care for what the teacher was shouting. 

"He's so irritating." Rogers had to just keep coming to his fucking coffee shop, didn't he? "He just denies everything and acts like I'm the bad person for calling him out."

"Self-victimising." 

"Exactly." The blond threw his hands up in annoyance. "He keeps telling me to 'practice what I preach', as if he's some saint. What does he even mean by that?"

"You guys pick on him. Specifically you." Bruce mentioned. "And it goes against exactly what you stand for."

"Who's side-"

"Shut up." Bruce spat, and damn, Tony didn't expect that. Neither did the Avengers. "There's no sides here. There's right and wrong. And you're in the wrong. Tony didn't assault that girl, and he is not what the rumours say he is. If he was, I wouldn't be friends with him, no matter how smart he is."

Was Tony crying or were his eyes sweating?

"I'm not in the wrong." Rogers said stubbornly.

"Give him a chance." Bruce almost pleaded. "He's genuinely a really nice person once you get to know him. Behind all the attitude, he's just someone who never really got a chance."

"Has Stark not had many chances in his time, Bruce?" Thor asked. "He is a young child in high school. Is that not a chance?"

"Thor." Bruce gave him a look. "That's not what I meant. I meant, he was immediately given a reputation without deserving it. People saw a billionaire's kid and came up with their own titles for him. He wasn't given a chance to make a name for himself. And Sunset Bain lied about him. She didn't get assaulted. I honestly think he did."

Tony felt his hands get sweaty. He didn't like when people mentioned Sunset. She lied, but he wasn't assaulted. At least, he told himself that. Because if he admitted it to himself, he'd go into a spiral leading to a mental breakdown again. He had three days in a cupboard to go insane over what happened.

He didn't need to do it again.

"I don't think it's right to talk about that." Barton defended him? Or was he defending her? "If Bruce says Stark isn't that bad, he probably isn't. Bruce doesn't lie. I trust his judgement."

"So I have to give him a chance?" Rogers asked like it would kill him to do such a thing. 

"You know him off of rumours. And that's where your hatred stems from. If you still hate him after knowing who he really is, then by all means, go ahead." Bruce shrugged. "But I really think you'll like him."

"I could see our Steve with the Son of Stark as a couple." Thor grinned. 

"That's too far." Rogers glared. 

"He is reasonably attractive." Barnes ignored the look his best friend gave him. "I'm human. I won't lie and say he isn't, because he is. He is attractive."

 "I would be a liar if I said Bucky was wrong." Romanoff smiled, knowing Barton wouldn't get jealous because the two of them both agreed, however bitchy Stark was, he was still good-looking.

"Natasha?" Rogers looked at her in despair. "You guys are useless."

"Lie to us all you want, but don't lie to yourself. Stark is fine." Barton said cheekily.

"Useless." Rogers repeated, shaking his head in amusement and annoyance.

Two days later, Tony was stuck in a business class again. He was considering buying the coffee shop he liked and banning the Avengers from it. He was fed up of hearing his name in their mouths in his safe space.

For a boy who grew up in the media, he hated attention. (Was it because he wasn't used to it or was it because he never got positive attention? He didn't know.)

Rogers was awfully quiet, and if Tony hadn't heard the entire conversation (unwillingly) in the coffee shop, he would've been paranoid. Rogers wasn't angry quiet or sad quiet. It was more like, biting-my-tongue quiet. 

"Morning."

Tony looked at the blond in confusion/shock. "Erm, morning?"

"How are you?"

Did you get a personality transplant or something?

No, Tony, he's like this with everyone except you, because you don't deserve positive attention. 

"I'm good..?" Tony didn't mean to make it sound like a question, but how could he not? Yes, Rogers was supposed to give him a chance, but this was weird.

"That's good, er-"

"Cut the bullshit." Tony snapped far too quickly. "Whatever you're doing, quit it."

"I was told to give you a chance." He shrugged. "This is me trying."

"No, you're treating me like some weird kid you're trying to make fun of. If this you trying, try harder, because there's no way you're like this with anyone else." 

Rogers ran a hand through his hair and looked at the brunet. "Look, it's kinda hard to act normal around you when you're- you."

"Which means?"

"You're famous. You have a reputation. I know you from rumours. I've been told that I'm very stubborn and it's hard to change my mind. I can't just forget what I've heard." 

Tony understood, but he wished he didn't. He wished he could shout and scream instead of saying, "Fair enough. You don't have to magically be my friend or pretend you don't know who I am. Just- if it's that hard to talk to me, don't."

"No I just-" He sighed. "Tell me something about you that- that people don't know. So I can think of something other than the rumours."

"I'm making a self-learning AI bot." Tony only told Bruce and Dr Yinsen about this. Now the golden boy knew, and he didn't know if he was okay with that. Too late to take it back.

"Really?" Rogers seemed impressed. "How- that's like- how?"

"I don't think you want to hear all the details. You'd be here for the next week."

"So you really are a genius?"

Tony shrugged. He didn't want to seem like he was bragging about it, because Rogers would absolutely hate that. 

"Okay, okay. Let's start over." He held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Steve. You are?"

Tony couldn't help but smile and shake his hand. "Tony."

"Tell me a little about yourself."

"I'm fifteen, sixteen in May. I love robotics, engineering and science, specifically physics." He summed up shortly. "What about you?"

"I'm seventeen, eighteen in July. I like art, like sketching, drawing and painting. I'm planning to go to an art school when I graduate." 

"So one day, I'll go to a gallery and see a piece by Steve Rogers?" Tony smiled, and then realised he should tone it down before he gets accused of flirting.

"It'll be right next to your AI bot." Rogers- or was it Steve now?- smiled back. "I'm sorry for assuming things about you. I should've given you a chance to be you instead of acting like all you were were the labels you're given."

"He's genuinely a really nice person once you get to know him. Behind all the attitude, he's just someone who never really got a chance."

"It's okay." Tony brushed it off. "I would've too."

"It's still not fair. You're right, I wasn't practicing what I preached." 

This seemed too easy. But Tony wanted the chance he was being given so badly. If he ended up getting fucked over by Steven Grant Rogers, then so be it. At least he'd get friendship for a while before it all goes to shit.

"Well now you know not to assume who I am. So you don't have to feel bad or anything. Don't dwell on it."

The blond stayed quiet.

Tony was not planning to go to the coffee shop after school. But he had homework and he needed his space to work. It was completely coincidental that the Avengers came in. (He wanted to hear what Rogers had to say about him. He needed to know.)

"I gave him a chance."

"And you think he is.."

"Annoyingly, he's surprisingly normal. Well, he's a genuine genius, but other than that, he's just like every other teenager. He didn't flirt with me or flaunt his wealth. When we were supposed to get out laptops, he didn't get his out, and I think it was on purpose." 

"Probably because you shouted at him for saying he was showing off with his MacBook." Bruce suggested. "You know, there are a lot of people in this school with MacBooks. Also, Justin Hammer is so much more show-offy than Tony is."

"Bain, Stone and Killian." Romanoff mentioned. "I've seen the three of them brag a lot, and they're nothing compared to Stark. It's intriguing. I wonder why the rich kids don't stick together."

"'Cause they're all jerks and Tony isn't." Bruce said casually.

God, Tony loved Bruce. 

"For someone so smart, Stark- well, I suppose I should call him Tony now, is very humble about it. He didn't want to admit he was a genius to me." 

"But he is a genius." Bruce said excitedly. "He tells me all about the projects he's working on and even showed me one of them. He agreed to help me out with some of my projects. He's incredibly smart and he doesn't mind that I'm not as smart as him."

"I really misjudged him, didn't I?" Steve, yes, he had to be Steve now, ran his hands through his hair. "Should I apologise for all the.. shouting?"

"I think we all should." Thor said loudly. "We have all been unkind to the Stark. We must do better. Asgardian culture says to never hold a grudge and always reconcile if one is made."

The group laughed at Thor, and Tony's heart ached with the desire to be one of them. He had wanted to be part of their group for so long, because they were perfect. The most loyal, trustworthy group he knew. He wanted to sit with them, rather than hide behind his laptop at a booth beside them and listen to what they said.

"Natasha?" 

"What?"

"You're good at reading people. What's your read on Stark?"

She was quiet for a moment. "He's nice to me. Definitely fears me, sign of respect. For a rich boy, he's not very obvious about it. Short, scrawny, definitely doesn't eat as much as he should. He wears the same old hoodies almost always, including his father's MIT one. Very smart, though discreet about it. He's not what I expected."

Tony wasn't just afraid of her. She was absolutely horrifying. How the hell did she read so much on him? Was he obvious or was she smarter than she let on?

"Bruce, what about you? You know him best?"

"It's all a facade. His asshole act is his way of getting people to stay away. He wants people to stay away so no one realises how smart he is, and that he's not what people say. I think, rather than being spoiled, he's rather humble and there's definitely not the perfect home life everyone assumes he has."

Maybe he should fear Bruce. But Bruce was a friend. It made sense that he knew that much about Tony, even if Tony didn't explicitly say anything that gives people a reason to know so much about him.

"I think it's time I learn the real Tony." Steve decided.

Tony was a little bit scared. But a little part of him yearned for the attention he'd be receiving.

It had been two months since they started to talk in business, and Steve began to like Tony as a person. Tony stopped receiving dirty looks from him and the Avengers, and it felt easier to talk to Bruce now. He did try to stop going to the coffee shop so often, because hearing them talk about him felt wrong and slightly off-putting.

But the point was, Tony had a two friends now and the Avengers were okay with him. Romanoff had even started talking to him in history, and there wasn't a single person accusing him of flirting because of it. Maybe three friends now.

Tony felt better. Except, the problem was, the more he spoke to Steve, the more attracted he was to the blond. Being around him constantly wasn't helping this new crush. 

Tony didn't resent it. 

"Tony." 

"Steve."

"We've got a project."

Tony didn't like the sound of that. "What project?"

"We have to make a hypothetical business."

Tony knew all about making a business, and how to run one. It was embedded into his brain. The moment he turned ten, Obie had been teaching him the basics of Stark Industries, so in future, he'd be able to run it. 

"How long do we have for the project?"

"Three weeks."

Three weeks meant the project had to be detailed, well-thought out and accurate to the point it was barely hypothetical.

"Where do you wanna do the project?" Not mine, not mine, not mine.

"Is yours good?"

Tony didn't want to say no, but he couldn't say yes. "Well, I'm not sure if I can. H- Father's a bit a strict on having people come over. Big place, trust issues, you know?"

"He thinks your friends would, what, rob you?"

"He's an eccentric man."

Steve nodded. "I'll see if my ma's okay with me bringing you over. She's not particularly fond about Starks."

"Like mother like son." Tony mumbled. "Er, sure, just let me know when."

"What's your number?"

Tony's heart beat faster. Steve Rogers wanted his number? Was this an actual crush by now? Was he actually attracted to Steve? Could this lead somewhere?

Shut up. He's just asking for a project. We're barely friends, don't overachieve by trying to turn it into something else. 

"Here." He handed the phone, a StarkPhone, to Steve and let him type in his number. He realised it could be seen as showing off, but Steve hadn't seemed to notice. He just pulled out a slightly-cracked iPhone and made sure he had the right number. 

Tony texted the boy to make sure it worked, and it did. 

"Well, I'll talk to you later, then."

"Okay." 

Tony watched the blond walk away, and the longing only hurt more. He wanted something with Steven Grant Rogers, a definitely-straight boy who all the girls wanted. Apparently Steve liked a girl called Peggy anyway.

Steve was so close, yet so far away.

Steve texted Tony that night, telling the brunet to come over Friday night to do the project, at his house. He told Tony his place wasn't all that, and he only had his mom at home, but Tony promised not to judge. He wouldn't do that.

Steve seemed wary when he let Tony into his house. 

Tony couldn't help but want something like this. A small, cosy house with a parent who actually cared. Steve's mom, who insisted she was called Sarah and not Miss Rogers, was loving and kind and busied herself with taking care of her son.

Tony hated the way he wanted a mom like that. Maria was nothing like that. He had two parents and yet Sarah was doing better than both of them, with ten times less than the Starks had. (And wasn't that just sad?)

Tony would sacrifice all his useless wealth for a family like the Rogers'.

"You okay?"

"Your mom.. she's really sweet."

Steve seemed surprised by the softness of Tony's tone. "Yeah, she is. She does pretty good for a woman on her own. I don't remember my dad, but I don't obsess over him being gone because my ma loves me enough for the both of them, you know?"

I don't. "Yeah, I get what you're saying."

"What are your parents like?"

Tony felt like his mouth had gone dry, his tongue feeling numb in his mouth. "My dad works a lot, but it's worth it 'cause he's providing for us. My mom taught me Italian and how to play piano when I was younger."

Steve picked up on the usage of past tense, but didn't mention it. "You can play piano?"

"Yeah. It was our thing for a bit but then Howard made it a business thing and all the businessmen would fawn over me playing piano and ended up making good deals with SI." 

"Howard?"

Shit. "My dad."

"You call him by his first name?" 

"It's an inside joke between us." Tony lied effortlessly. Steve didn't need to know his father didn't even consider Tony his son and despised the idea of being called 'dad'. 

"I see." Steve nodded, unconvinced. The more he spoke to Tony, the more concerned yet interested he became. Giving the brunet a chance was only leading to more theories about him, and they weren't good.

Something was off with Tony Stark, and he had to figure out what.

And try not to fall in love with him whilst he did.

Steve was failing miserably. See, he'd always found Tony attractive. The fifteen-year-old was insanely gorgeous for his age, looking older than he was on a good day. There was something about Tony that had everyone admitting he was good-looking. 

But now that Steve was getting to know Tony, he was falling. Tony's smile, his passion when he enjoyed something, his intelligence, his ability to play piano, violin and guitar as well? How could someone be so perfect in every way? 

Steve hated how he was falling for Tony, because even though he had a bad rep and everyone in school hated him, they also fawned over him. Steve felt basic, but he was more attracted to Tony as a person, not for his looks. 

But okay, the looks were something too. 

Steve felt hopeless. Getting to know Tony had to be a mistake, because there was no way the great Tony Stark would ever fall for fatherless, poor, Steve. Besides, he wasn't even sure if Tony swung that way. Steve barely knew if he swung that way, since the only guy he'd found attractive was his best friend (though he never actually felt a romantic attraction to him).

Best mistake he made, though.

"Tony?" 

"Yes?" 

"How wrong are the rumours?"

Tony looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The rumours that you're an obnoxiously rich, asshole playboy." 

Tony winced jokingly. "You wound me."

"Tony."

"Alright, alright. The rumours are partly wrong. I'm rich, yes, but I'm not obnoxious about it. I'm not a playboy, believe it or not, and I can be an asshole but most of the time I have a reason to be." 

Steve raised a brow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, if someone's being rude to me, I'm not just going to sit back and take it." Howard would kill me if I did.

"People are rude to you?"

Tony almost laughed. "You were rude to me at some point. So were the rest of your friends, except Brucie. Brucie's an angel."

"I didn't realise." Steve said, and he meant it. He hadn't realised he was rude, and that other people were too. 

"Well, now you know."

"Does it bother you?"

"What, having people be rude to me?" He watched Steve nod. "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Sometimes." He admitted quietly. "Like, if someone accuses me of something I didn't do and then people are bitchy about it, it bothers me, because no matter how many times I defend myself, no one listens and then they keep talking and make more lies and it just- it's not-"

Tony had gone quiet, trying not to ramble on and on about how people are so unfair and how so many lies have gone out that were never true, and how the things they say hurt him most of the time. For someone who was seen as loud and confident, no one ever seemed to actually listen.

"Tony..."

"Yeah?"

"What really happened with Sunset Bain?" 

It felt like something was lodged in Tony's throat. "I didn't- she lied- I- it was- it's not true."

"Tell me the truth then."

"I- bad day, really bad day. I wasn't- I didn't really feel like I was there, you know? I just remember her dragging me into a closet and it was dark, and she was pressing against me, and she tried to kiss me- no, she did kiss me. She kissed me and her hands were all over me and I wanted her to stop, so- so I tried to push her off, but I didn't- it was cramped, and dark, and- and she just- I hit her, by accident, and- and I ran out."

"Were you on something?" Steve asked. "Like, drugs or-"

"I know what you mean." Tony cut him off. "And no. I wasn't. It was just a bad day, okay?"

Steve nodded, thinking it over. He knew Tony wasn't lying, despite his stammering and fidgeting and obvious uncomfortableness while he spoke. He was nervous, and Sunset Bain was why. He was assaulted and she painted him as the villain. And Steve felt sick at the thought of it.

He'd hated Tony because of what Sunset Bain said. It was natural to assume the victim was telling the truth, and Tony had never gotten the chance to defend himself. If he did, he was called a liar and seen as an even worse person.

Steve hated himself for believing Tony was a bad person.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Nothing really happened to me-"

"Tony, she assaulted you." Steve said softly. "She assaulted you and made it look like she was assaulted, physically and sexually. It's fucked up and I'm sorry that it happened."

"Well I did assault her, physically."

"It was self-defence." He crossed his arms, but it didn't make Tony feel threatened. "You hit her, by accident, in self-defence, and she still made you look bad. And you've had to deal with that since, what, freshman year? That's not fair, and I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't yours either."

Tony felt like crying. No one had told him that. No one even bothered to listen to his side of the story, and if he did, he was called a liar. His own father hadn't believed him, told him it was his fault and then locked him up for three days. 

Was it wrong to fall harder because of this? 

"I'm sorry, for being a jerk, and treating you awfully for no reason. It wasn't right of me and definitely not fair on you. And I should've realised and apologised a long time ago." Steve held Tony's hand gently. "And there are a lot of other people who owe you apologies."

Tony felt his face heat up and couldn't stop staring at Steve's hand on his. "It's fine, you don't have to apologise."

"I do." 

Tony looked up at Steve, and fuck, they were on his bed, in his room, and way too close to each other. He didn't want to seem like a playboy, but god, he wanted to kiss Steve so badly. It definitely wasn't the time or the place, but he desperately wanted to.

How touch-starved am I???

"Steve, I-"

Steve was the one to break the tension, leaning in and kissing Tony, his other hand cupping the brunet's face. Tony was quick to kiss back, his other hand on Steve's arm- and fucking hell, the boy was ripped. 

When they broke apart, it dawned on both of them that they had just kissed. Tony felt like a slut. Steve probably thought he was one. They were going to go back to how they were three months ago, and Tony's heart would break.

So, he did the only thing he could think of, which was running out of Steve's room, grabbing his things as fast as he could and leaving. He heard Sarah ask what happened, but he was gone before he could hear the rest of her sentence.

He was crying again. He realised that whilst he walked home, but then he was in his bed and tears were pouring down his face, and the tears would not stop falling. He was crying again, and it was over Steve Rogers again.

He hated himself. He really did. He had a good thing going with Steve and he fucked it up by initiating something, living up to the name he had just said he wasn't. He wasn't a slut, yet he felt like one. And surely Steve thought that now.

It wasn't Steve's fault, Tony told himself. It was his own, for making himself seem available, and not letting go of the blond's hand, and then looking at him with that look. Steve couldn't help but kiss Tony, because Tony wanted him to.

He had ruined something good.

He kept crying.

"I messed up." 

"What'd you do now, punk?" 

Steve would've laughed, but nothing felt funny. "With Tony."

"What happened?"

"We were talking in my room, cause we'd just finished our business project, and he was telling me something personal. And I was comforting him, because he needed it. I held his hand, trying to be reassuring and all, but then he looked at me and I couldn't help but kiss him."

"What is the problem with that?" Thor asked.

"We were just talking about Sunset Bain."

Natasha's eyes darkened. "What?"

"He was telling me his side of the story and then I did the worst possible thing and kissed him. He ran out of the room so fast and I didn't even stop him."

"Stevie, lovely, sweet Steve, I don't blame you for kissing Stark, but the timing? The timing was really shit, man." Clint smiled awkwardly.

"I know- I know- it's just- god, I assumed he felt the same. But also, he just looked so perfect. I couldn't help it. I know I shouldn't have, but- I wasn't thinking."

"That's the problem." Natasha said coldly. "You think with your heart, not your head."

"Nothing's wrong with that." Steve glared at her. "I like thinking with my heart."

"It's not practical."

"It doesn't matter whether or not I'm practical."

"Right, let's not argue." Clint put his hands on the table. "Whatever works for you, works for you. But in that moment specifically, you should've been a bit more rational. I can't blame you for having feelings, spur of the moment stuff, and I don't think Stark will either. You need to talk to him."

"I can't." Steve sighed. "I don't think he'll want to be around me. Also, I really, really want to kiss him again."

"You're so questionable." 

"I'll talk to him tomorrow. We've got science before lunch." Bruce offered. "But can we talk about how you are attracted to Tony?"

"It's not my fault, you're all attracted to him as well." He said defensively.

"No one's judging you." Bruce rolled his eyes. "But we're not attracted to him, we just admit he's good-looking."

"He's sweet." Steve ran his hands through his hair. It was a nervous habit. "He's funny, immature but still acts older than he is. And he's unbelievably smart. And- well, hot. I just- I didn't even realise I was falling for him until he came to my home and told me my ma was really nice."

"What?" Bucky almost-shouted. "He was at your house and met your mom?"

"Yeah, for a project. Did I not mention it?"

"No??"

"Oh, well we have a business project so he came to my house and we worked on it in my room. He told me my ma was nice, and he's really nice to her. Respects her, and the house. He ate dinner at ours once and refused to let ma do the dishes. You know that type of stuff-"

"Makes you weak." Clint teased.

"Shut up." Steve rolled his eyes. 

"Why didn't you go over to his big, fancy mansion?" 

"Said his dad was strict about people coming over." 

"His dad doesn't seem like a nice person." Bruce mentioned. "Tony tells me about his life, sometimes, when he doesn't think I'm listening or forgets he's talking to me. He says stuff about his dad being mostly absent, and how the things he says hurts him most of the time."

"He said he has an inside joke with his dad where he calls him Howard." 

"I don't think Howard Stark wants to be called a father." Bruce shrugged. "He seems mostly embarrassed by Tony, like he wishes he never had him. I've always wondered what he's really like, but Tony never says anything when I ask. Or at least, not anything real."

"He said his dad works a lot."

"He does."

Steve hummed in thought. "He doesn't seem okay, you know what I mean? Like, for a rich, genius teenager, he doesn't seem like he should seem. He should be loud and arrogant and he's everything but that."

"Maybe if you kiss him at the right time, he'll fall in love with you and tell you everything, and you can go be his big, blond, bodyguard boyfriend." Clint grinned.

"Shut it, Clinton." Natasha elbowed him.

"Okay, we're not there yet. Understood."

"He deserves someone who will help him, not hurt him."

"Then be that for him." Natasha said simply.

"I don't know how."

"You'll learn." And that sounded more like a threat than advice.

"Hey Tony."

"Bruciebear." Tony hoped his voice didn't sound as weak as it did when he woke up. Embarrassingly, he fell asleep crying and woke up with a scratchy throat. "How are you?"

"I'm okay." He said slowly. "How are you?"

"Did- did he tell you?" Tony wasn't sure if Steve had talked about what happened, and he honestly hoped he hadn't. But he was ninety-percent sure he had.

"Yeah." Bruce shrugged. "He told me what happened, but I want to hear what your side is."

"My side?" It felt like the night prior, where Steve wanted his side of the Sunset story. His heart hurt again. "Well, I was talking about Sunset Bain, and he was comforting me and apologising and he held my hand and- well I guess I initiated it, because I looked at him, and then he kissed me and- I ran. Because I- I don't- I'm not a slut."

"I don't think you're a slut, Tony." Bruce's voice was gentle. "Neither does Steve. And you didn't initiate it. Looking at him doesn't mean you forced him to kiss you. Not everything's your fault, you know?"

"But I wanted him to. I wanted him to kiss me and I know exactly what type of look I gave him. It wasn't his fault."

"So? It wasn't yours either." Bruce was more stern this time. "Though there doesn't really need to be faults in this. You like him, don't you?"

"I do."

"But you can admit the timing was a bit bad."

"Well, a little bit. But I didn't really mind. He was comforting me and I just- it's-" new. "I just find people who are good at being comforting very attractive, you know?"

"It sounds like you've been through a lot and haven't had support for it much, or at all." 

Tony looked at the boy, his shy, science, geeky friend, and blinked. Bruce was never like this. Smart, yes, but not so.. blunt. Whenever Tony rambled, Bruce would usually listen and nod and chime in when needed, and Tony often thought the boy was never really listening.

But he was, this time at least, and maybe other times too. And this time, he was bluntly saying what he thought, and Tony didn't know how to react.

"Am I wrong?"

"I don't- I haven't been through a lot. And if I have been through anything at all, of course I get support for it. I'm-"

"Tony Stark, bla bla bla." He seemed bored. "Cut the bullshit. I'm your friend, and I care about you. And I won't believe your lies."

"I don't feel like getting into one of those talks right now."

"You have to, some day. Or it's gonna eat you from the inside and tear you apart, and you're already unstable enough as is."

"How you wound me."

"I'm serious."

Tony sighed. "One day. But not now."

"What are you gonna do, about Steve?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't even know if he wants me the way I want him. I'd get it if him kissing me was like, a spur-of-the-moment thing."

"Trust me when I say he absolutely wants you." Bruce grinned. "Talk to him, alright? It helps."

"I don't like talking about things."

"That's your problem." Bruce said blasely. "But this helped, didn't it? You know how he feels, and you've got someone to tell you that not everything is your fault, and also, you're way too harsh on yourself."

"I'm not too-" He shut up at the look on his friend's face. "It.. did help, I'll admit that. But I don't want to be the one to go up to him and demand he talk to me, you know? Feels like I'm trying too hard, or being too desperate, or being a-"

"Say slut and you'll find out why I'm in anger management."

"You know, I still can't see you in anger management. You're so quiet and sweet and smart and I've never once seen you angry. Like ever."

Bruce smiled a little. "Well, that's just because you don't make me angry."

Tony felt honoured, and also felt like crying. "I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do." His tone was unarguable. "And you deserve Steve too. Be at the coffee shop near here, after school. I'll make sure Steve's there, and you two can talk."

The bell rang, and somehow it felt like it'd only been minutes. Both of them had done the work whilst they spoke, but the time had gone so fast. Tony looked up and saw Bruce start to pack away and get ready to leave.

"Brucie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you." Tony said with as much emotion as he possibly could.

"I love you too." Bruce smiled, and then he was gone.

Tony felt like crying again. But it wasn't for a bad reason this time.

"Cap." 

Tony didn't expect arms to wrap around his waist. 

"I missed you."

"It's been a day..?"

Steve rolled his eyes, sitting down in the booth. "I'm so sorry, for yesterday. Not for kissing you, but for kissing you at the worst possible time. You just told me about Sunset and then I kissed you and I can't believe how stupid I was for it, but- I don't regret it. Just the timing."

"You don't regret it?" He hated the hopefulness in his voice.

"I don't." Steve looked up at the brunet. "Do you?"

"No." Tony said simply. "I wanted you to. I just thought you would be mad about it, or realise I'm exactly what everyone says I am. So I ran."

"You are not a slut just because you kissed me. No, because I kissed you and you kissed back."

"You mean that?"

"I do." Steve held the brunet's hand again. "You're a good person, Tony. I don't see how everyone can hate someone as perfect as you. You deserve a lot better. I'm sorry for being just like everyone else. If you'll let me, I'll treat you better."

"Are- are you asking me out?"

"I am." Steve smiled optimistically. "Will you go out with me?"

"Absolutely, yes, of course." Tony couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. 

"Are we okay now?" Steve asked quietly.

"Yeah." Tony grinned. "Yeah, we're okay."

Steve kissed Tony softly, and Tony immediately kissed back. 

He didn't run this time.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was fifteen years old when he got his first boyfriend. He was completely clueless on how relationships worked, and was the biggest virgin known to man. The closest he'd gotten to losing his virginity was being assaulted, and, well, he wasn't fond of that memory.

So, being in a relationship with Steven Grant Rogers, the golden boy, heartthrob of Shield High, was the most confusing thing in the world. Tony liked Steve, a lot, but he didn't know what else to do now that he was actually with Steve.

And dating him didn't seem very different, which was weird, because he naturally assumed that being in a relationship meant just sleeping together left, right and centre. Steve wasn't giving off any sign of wanting that, so Tony was all the more confused.

He didn't know what to do, but he didn't want to explicitly say, hey, I don't know how to be in a relationship! So he just kept quiet and enjoyed, or tried to, dating Steve Rogers.

Their first date was absolutely amazing. Steve took them bowling, and Tony had a surprisingly good arm, and the two of them ended up being incredibly competitive. They fought, threw bowling balls at each other (and missed) and Tony ended up winning.

He bought Steve a milkshake to be a fair winner. Steve rolled his eyes, congratulated him and took the milkshake happily. The night ended with Steve walking Tony home, and god, it was such a peaceful walk. They just talked and talked and talked and when they didn't talk, it wasn't awkward.

But the closer they got to the Stark Mansion, the worse Tony felt and his energy started to die down. Steve noticed, but didn't ask about it. He chose to wait until later on in their relationship, so that he wouldn't freak Tony out. 

Tony had asked Steve to stop at the start of the road, instead of walking all the way to the mansion. Steve was more inquisitive than ever, but he nodded, and kissed Tony softly. Tony deflated in Steve's arms, but became just as tense as before when they parted.

He wanted Steve to pick him up, take him back to their flat with just the two Rogers, and keep him there forever, where toxicity didn't exist. But instead, Tony sombrely walked down to his unhomely mansion and called it a night.

The next few dates, were similar, testing out games that made them competitive. They wanted to see who could win most, and it angered Steve every time Tony won, because no one warned him Tony was good at sports. Tony didn't even know either. 

But every night ended the same, with Steve walking Tony home, ignoring the way the brunet shut down whenever they got close to the mansion. He never said anything about how he had to stop several houses down and kiss Tony when he was sure no one was looking.

Steve didn't want to be private.

He tried to understand why Tony wanted to.

He struggled.

Steve tried, for the next few weeks, to be a good boyfriend, but also a good friend. He tried not to make Tony feel out of his element, or pressured to do something he didn't want to do. And he tried not to make the brunet feel uncomfortable by asking questions that meant something.

But Steve wasn't private. He loved having his heart out to the open, sharing it with his friends and family. He loved having people who trusted him with their feelings the way they did with his. He wanted that with Tony.

Tony was the complete opposite.

It was almost obvious that something was going to go wrong.

"You're at my apartment a lot." Steve mentioned on a movie night. "Like, a lot."

"Is- is that bad?" Tony was already nervous. He'd sensed something was off with Steve a while back. He'd decided that this would lead to a few different things, like Steve wanting to go further, or wanting to talk about Tony being absolutely against having people at his mansion, or ending the relationship completely. 

He was scared.

"It's not bad." Steve held Tony's hand reassuringly. "I'm not- I just- I wonder why you never let me over at yours."

Option two. "Well, you know, my dad's a bit wary of people. Eccentric genius."

"Tony." 

He didn't like the way Steve said his name. Usually, he loved it, but in the moment, it was like nails dragging against a chalkboard. 

"Don't."

"Tony, why- why don't you want me to go to your house? Honestly."

Tony felt like throwing up. Howard wasn't awful, though he had his moments, but he still made Tony feel afraid. He still made Tony feel afraid of having friends over, of talking about his accomplishments or his life in general, of being. Howard had the ability to make Tony feel like nothing more than dirt on the great Stark's shoe, and Tony hated it.

Being absent and giving Tony very few good memories only made it harder for the boy to think of his father in a good light. Howard might've encouraged his intelligence before it went too far, and he realised Tony was smarter than he was at that age, but that was it. Things just went to shit after that.

If Tony had to talk about his father, the first thing he'd think of would be the three-day isolation in the cupboard. And that made him feel claustrophobic, even if he was in the most open space in the world. It made his skin crawl.

"Tony?" Steve sounded worried, pressing down on Tony's knuckles to ground him. "You with me?"

"I'm with you." 

"Will you talk to me?"

"I don't want to." He said, voice weak. "Can you just let this go?"

"I've been ignoring it for a while now, Tony." Stubborn, in a caring way. "Or at least, I've been trying to. But clearly, there's something wrong. I care about you, and not just as your boyfriend. I don't want you to hurt alone."

"I'm not hurting." His walls were going up. He hated it. 

"Tony."

"If I let you come over, will you shut up about this?" He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but sensitive things like his father made him feel like bugs were under his skin and digging through the seven layers. 

Steve looked defeated. "Okay."

They sat in silence, watching the movie. Steve was afraid he fucked up, but then his boyfriend fell asleep in his arms, and it was relieving to know Tony still somewhat trusted him.

If only Tony trusted Steve more.

The day after the mini-argument, or whatever it was- Tony wasn't sure- Howard had fucked off to Tokyo for a business deal. The timing was very convenient. So Tony decided to invite his boyfriend over.

Happy monitored security cameras, so he would keep it on the down-low if Tony asked (and he did). Jarvis, of course, wouldn't say anything, and would happily welcome Steve in. He would absolutely give Steve shovel talk, and then give Tony the talk.

It felt too sudden, like he didn't have enough time to deal with the fact that he was letting Steve into a part of his life that no one had seen. But then again, Howard wasn't there, so it wouldn't- shouldn't be as big of a deal.

The first thing Steve did when Tony opened the door to his gorgeous mansion was freeze.

"Holy shit."

Tony didn't know if that was a good holy shit or not. He just pushed Steve forward a bit and closed the door behind him. "Hello."

"Tony, this- this is- wow." Steve looked around from where he stood. "When I walked up to the place, I was- it's even nicer on the inside."

Tony smiled awkwardly. "Well.. er, welcome to my humble abode."

"If I lived here, I'd have people over all the time." Steve said without thinking. "It's gorgeous." 

"I- I don't want people to- well, people already think I'm spoiled and-"

Steve snapped out of his dazed awe and looked at his boyfriend, realising where he went wrong. He had been one of the people assuming Tony was spoiled, and even if this was making it hard to believe Tony wasn't, he wished he never said anything.

"It's okay." He held the brunet's hand. "It's beautiful. Your dad worked hard for this. Doesn't make you spoiled. It makes you lucky."

Tony nodded and walked to his room, practically dragging Steve along since their hands were intertwined. "So, this is my room." 

Steve was surprised at how... normal it was. Yes, the room was large, spacious, but it was simplistic. No fancy furniture or high-tech devices. The room was almost uninteresting, but there were little snippet's of Tony in the posters he had scattered around, and in the blueprints and designs on his desk.

He wondered why there wasn't more to the room.

"My house isn't really that interesting." Tony shrugged. "I don't know what you want to do here."

"Do you have a workshop?"

Tony's entire being lit up, and he dragged his boyfriend out of his room to the workshop. He'd forgotten that, now that Howard was gone, he could do whatever he wanted in there. Steve didn't ask questions as Tony got to work immediately, explaining things in an incoherent ramble.

He ended up sliding a sketchpad and art pencils to Steve so he wouldn't get bored. Even so, Steve listened with a smile, sketching Tony in his element. If he told his friends that visiting the mansion ended up with both of them in the workshop, AC/DC blasting from the speakers, barely communicating with each other, they'd call it boring.

But Steve had never felt so close to Tony. This was the most raw Tony had ever been. He wasn't hiding at all in the workshop. Steve thought it was beautiful.

"Howard found out." 

Tony sat up from his bed, where Steve was happily sleeping. They hadn't done anything, of course. "What? How?"

"Said he didn't trust you alone and checked the security feed himself. You should've waited a day or two before bringing someone over."

"Is- is he mad?"

"I'm sorry." Happy said quietly. "I tried to convince him not to. He doesn't think there's anything going on between you guys. He's just mad someone else is here, especially cause he's not."

"When is he coming home?"

"By the end of the week."

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd picked the habit up off of Steve. "Is there any point in trying to please him if he's already mad?"

"Don't make things worse. Maybe he'll go easy on you if you just send him home in the morning and don't bring him back."

"I don't want to." He admitted softly. "I want him to stay."

"I can't protect you."

"That's not your job, Hap."

"It should be." Happy smiled even though Tony couldn't see it through the phone. "Lord knows you need defending."

"I don't need defending."

"Go back to sleep, kid." 

"Goodnight, Happy."

"Goodnight, Tony."

Tony was fast asleep in minutes, exhausted from his time in the workshop. Steve, however, was wide awake. His sensitive hearing woke him up when Tony's phone rang. He didn't try to eavesdrop on purpose, but Tony's phone was loud and Steve heard everything.

Nothing was explicitly said, but it was clear to Steve that he had to get Tony to talk about things. He couldn't let the brunet hurt any longer.

"That call last night.."

Tony spun around instantly. "You were awake?"

"I'm a light sleeper."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Steve sat down at the end of the bed. "Why is your dad so mad that I'm here?"

"I've told you so many times, he's-"

"Wary, eccentric." Steve said, tone bored. "You say that every time, but, Tony, I'm not stupid. I know something's going on here, and you're not talking about it. I can tell it's bothering you. Why won't you talk to me?"

"Talking is weakness." 

"Let me guess, your dad told you that?"

Tony walked out of his room, going straight to the workshop instead. If he had to have this talk, he was going to break stuff as they had it. 

"What's the real reason-"

"He's a fucking prick, okay?" Tony shouted. "He's a fucking prick. He doesn't want me to have a life, or fucking happiness or success. He's been jealous of me for years just because I'm smarter than him. So, he just treats me like shit because of it. He either ignores my entire existence or shouts at me, and either way it feels like shit. Is that what you want to hear?"

Steve's stomach turned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't give me that sorry bullshit." Tony walked over to the desktop and started slamming a hammer down on random objects. "This is exactly why I don't talk about it. Because you either undermine it or overreact and make it seem like it's that awful and more. He's just- he's just a shitty dad, okay?"

"Tony.."

"No, okay, it's not that big of a deal, alright? He doesn't- he doesn't hit me or anything. He's just absent a lot, or just- just angry all the time. It's not that big of a deal. He just- he doesn't know how to process that anger so he just shouts at- at me, but it's not-"

"That big of a deal?"

Tony put his hands down on the desk, head facing down, breathing heavily. "You don't need to worry about this or anything. It's just- it could be worse, okay?"

Steve walked up to his boyfriend, holding him softly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you're hurting. You think it's not that bad but that doesn't mean it's not still bad. The fact that you're shaking in my arms says everything."

"It's not-"

"Don't tell me it's not that bad." Steve traced lines on Tony's arm, soothingly. "Don't downplay it. Tell it like it is."

"He doesn't- he doesn't hit me or anything." He sat down on top of the table, swinging his legs. "He's rarely even here. He pretends I don't exist, but if he sees me he finds something to yell at me for. It's always little, useless things that he makes a big deal out of and just screams and shouts and goes on and on about."

"Has he ever..?"

"Hit me?" He looked up for confirmation. "Well, yeah, I mean, hasn't every parent hit their kid at least once before?"

Steve felt ill. "No, Tony. Not every parent hits their kid, even if it's really, really rarely." 

"Oh." 

"If he's like this then.. how did he get you out of the Sunset incident?"

Tony swallowed uncomfortably, feeling there was a boulder in his throat. He felt claustrophobic. "He didn't want our name tarnished or anything. But, I also begged him to let me stay instead of sending me off to MIT early. I begged him until he eventually argued and probably bribed Shield to let me stay. It wasn't worth it."

"It wasn't?"

"I got a three-day suspension and I didn't even do anything wrong. Except hit her, but it wasn't on purpose." 

"Suspensions are fun." Steve smirked a little bit. "When I used to get into fights all the time, I got suspended a load of times. Each time I enjoyed my mini-vacation and didn't do any of the work."

"I couldn't do my work." Tony tried not to close his eyes, because the darkness reminded him of the dark, tight space in the cupboard. "Suspensions aren't fun when Howard Stark is your father."

"What do you mean, you couldn't do the work?"

Tony rubbed at his chest, trying to get rid of the sandpapery feeling. "I was, er, busy. And didn't have the work with me."

"Busy doing what?"

Tony didn't want to talk about it. He could see the cupboard Howard locked him in. He thought it'd be a better punishment if Tony had to listen to the sounds of his safe place whilst unable to access it. Howard kicked the door every time Tony banged on it or shouted to let him out.

Before the end of the first day, Tony was compliant.

Steve followed Tony's line of sight and looked at the cupboard. His eyes kept darting between the blood-red door and, oh god, could he feel any sicker? 

"Don't tell me he-"

Tony just looked at Steve in defeat. He knew and there was no point denying it. Steve only wanted to help. What harm would it do if Tony just talked, for once in his life, about the things that hurt him. 

"The things he says hurt me most of the time." He whispered. "He locked me in that cupboard for the full three days of my suspension and told me to think about what I did. He knew that I wasn't lying, and he knew that being in a cupboard would freak me out, but he did it anyway. I banged on the door and I screamed and cried and he didn't let me out. Not until my suspension was over."

"I'm going to kill him."

"I don't think you can-"

"I'll kill him." Steve said defiantly. "I'll kill him with my bare hands if you want me to. That's so, so messed up. Locking you in a cupboard after you got assaulted in one? That's so wrong."

"The workshop is my safe place." Tony began. "I come here when he's not here, or if I'm really fucking stressed. He knows that the workshop is important to me, so that's why he locked me in there. He wanted me to hear him working and not be able to do anything about it."

"I'm going to kill him." Steve's arms were wrapped tightly around Tony's waist. "I'm so sorry that fucking bastard did that to you. How did you- you couldn't eat or-"

"He's done it before." Tony shrugged. "Just not for as long as three days. So I'm used to not eating much for a long period of time."

Steve had to step back, throw a wrench at the wall, and then return to hugging his boyfriend. "I'll take you in. I swear to you. I'll get my ma to be your legal guardian. He'll never hurt you again."

"It's okay, Steve." Tony smiled. "Only a little while before I'm off to MIT. Then I'm safe. Then he can't hurt me."

"There's an art college in Massachusetts." Steve whispered in Tony's ear.

"You still want me?"

"Of course I still want you, Tony." Steve kissed his boyfriend softly. "I'm in it for the long run. Something about you is addictive, Tony, and I'm not ready to get sober."

"Fuck being sober then." Tony grinned, jumping off of the table into Steve's arms. "Sobriety is bullshit. You can be an addict forever."

"For you." Steve began walking back to Tony's room. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you gonna do when your dad comes back?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I'm here if you need me, okay?"

Tony wanted to cry. "Okay."

I think I love you.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was a man of the media. He grew up with flashing lights in his face, a picture-perfect smile glued onto his face to the point it hurt. If he wasn't pretending in front of a camera, he was pretending in front of his father. 

Stark men are made of iron.

He had no choice but to be perfect.

There was a time when being flawless was a struggle. When he'd first made his circuit board and the cameras appeared, with people shouting at him and asking him how or why and who taught him, he got overwhelmed and ran away, and the media just found it sweet.

But Howard Stark didn't. 

Tony Stark wasn't an emotional person. He had forced himself to mask whatever he really felt and always look unbothered. When Ana and Jarvis died, he stayed unbothered for the funeral and cried in private.

When his parents died, he stayed unbothered, and cried for his mother when he was alone. And when Obadiah betrayed him, tried to kill him and then was inevitably killed, Tony sobbed in his locked-down workshop and made sure JARVIS never told a soul.

He walked out of the workshop four days later with a paparazzi-smile and bright eyes, like the whole thing didn't affect him at all.

When he lost JARVIS, and then lost his team, and was left alone in the freezing cold of Siberia, he didn't cry. It got to the point where he accepted death and felt no pain, but then T'Challa saved him and he almost resented it. He cried when he got home, only because he didn't feel at home in the desolate compound, without JARVIS or the Avengers.

But of course, when the media asked questions and demanded answers, Tony just smiled and told the world the simple truth- that the Avengers were disbanded and he had nothing else left to say. The media couldn't see the pain, and at some point, Tony couldn't either.

That was just what he was used to. And of course it was. He was Howard Stark's son, after all.

Tony felt all the pain that he had compartmentalised after he returned from Wakanda. He felt all of that pain a thousand times more when the Avengers came back, and apologised. He didn't completely feel like he deserved it, but Natasha stayed, and he had to believe it.

With her sitting in the workshop as he filed paperwork and went on calls and made demands, he felt less pained and more whole. He felt like crying, but he wouldn't ever cry in front of anyone again. He had cried in front of Howard once, and Howard didn't like that. 

Eventually, the work he put into pardoning the Avengers worked out, and they were allowed to return legally. Of course, they already returned, illegally, but no one needed to know that. 

When they were welcomed home in front of the media, with Tony answering questions slyly to avoid the truth but feed the hungry reporters enough to keep them sedated, the pushed-down feelings got harder to avoid. The tension had dissolved and the team had gone back to how it used to be.

Tony missed Bruce and Thor, but he could cope with them being gone. He missed his lab partner and the comfort of a god, but he had gotten used to it. He had his team back, partially, now. He could settle for what he had.

They were at a team dinner when it led to the inevitable question finally being asked.

Tony was minding his own business, picking out whatever FRIDAY had ordered for him. Natasha was sitting next to him. She meant it when she said she had his back. Tony thought it'd get annoying, always having her around, but it wasn't. He craved someone's constant presence. 

He enjoyed it.

When everyone was sitting in front of the TV, spread out on separate sofas, things went wrong. It was all fine until someone in the movie started to get anxious, and their parents, dad specifically, started shouting. Tony's hands began to shake, so he put his food down and kept his hands balled up tight. 

Natasha had noticed in her peripheral vision, but didn't mention anything. At least, not until the person's dad had hit them, and Tony flinched. Tony flinched, and Natasha noticed, and the team noticed, and everyone was looking at him and he ran.

He had to. 

He couldn't deal with PDE, public display of emotions. Howard had always had a problem with it. 

He ran to the workshop and asked JARVIS to lock it down, and then he felt even worse because FRIDAY listened, ignoring the fact that she'd been called the wrong name. Tony fell to the floor and cried, and cried and cried and silently wished someone, anyone, would come and give him the comfort he'd rarely received as a child.

But no one was there, and the only physical touch he felt was Howard's cold, calloused hands making painful marks on his skin. 

"You're nothing, Anthony. A pathetic excuse of a son. I wish I never had you."

"Don't you know how to compose yourself? What type of imbecile doesn't know how to keep their emotions in check and not look weak in front of people? Have I taught you nothing?"

"You're fucking useless. Can't take a simple punch without crying. When I was younger, my father would use a belt and I'd sit back and take it, no tears. But you? You weak, pathetic little crybaby, you cry immediately. It's embarrassing."

"He's just a boy, Howard."

"Don't let him affect you, young sir."

"Mess up and I'll kill you."

"Quit that incessant shaking or I'll staple your feet to the ground."

Someone was talking to him. Someone's hand was on his shoulder, rubbing it gentle, whispering soft words of affection in his ears. It reminded him of Ana, who was long gone by now. The thought of her made him feel worse, but he couldn't dwell on it because someone was here.

Someone was there as he was losing his shit, and he knew Howard would beat him bloody for it if he was here. But he wasn't, and the only person who was, was someone who cared for him and wanted to help.

"Tony?"

Fuck. No one was meant to watch this. No one was meant to see him cry.

He looked up and saw Natasha, and she pulled him into her arms despite not being one for physical touch. He let himself get lost in the comfort and forgot to care about the fact that he couldn't be weak in front of people.

"I'm sorry about the movie. We thought it'd be a simple romance movie. We didn't know there'd be.. sensitive things in it."

Sensitive for him.

"You didn't know." Tony brushed it off. "It's fine."

"It's not fine, because I had to fight FRIDAY for five minutes to let me in and then eventually used a long-forgotten override code to get in. And when I did, I found you sobbing on the floor, and you were shaking and pulling your hair. That's not fine."

Tony couldn't help but feel embarrassed. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Tony.." Her voice was weak, and he could tell that this affected her too. "Will you stop pretending like it's nothing and talk about it, please?"

She sounded nothing like herself, and it made Tony feel worse. And better at the same time, because it meant she was putting her guard down to help him do the same. This was the comfort he'd craved all his life and, after everything that had happened recently, he couldn't find the energy to run away from it.

"I don't know how."

"Would it help if I, and the team if that's okay with you, share our own.. interesting childhood?" Natasha asked. "I've heard that someone talking first helps give an example and show trust."

Tony nodded, unable to find the words to say, yes, I want you guys to trust me so I can trust you.

"Let's go back to the living room then."

"Not there." 

She looked at him, and then around the room, and nodded. This was Tony's safe space. He'd feel more comfortable here than anywhere else.

"Okay."

Natasha had left Tony to fix himself up whilst she went and got the team. She didn't say anything about the state Tony was in when she found him, choosing to respect his privacy. All she said was that they needed to have a talk, and so they all went to the workshop and found a bunch of beanbags set up.

There was a green one for Bruce, though he wasn't there, a Mjolnir-patterned one for Thor despite his absence too in the corner of the room. In the middle of the room was a red one for Natasha, a purple one for Clint, a blue one for Steve and a gold and red one for himself. There were a few random ones for Wanda, Bucky and Sam, because he'd not gotten around to finding custom beanbags for them yet.

(Scott went home to Cassie, so he wasn't there.)

"These are cute." 

"There's a few missing, because it's surprisingly hard to find custom beanbags for Avengers, but-"

"It's okay, Tony." Bucky cut him off. "Not everything has to be perfect."

It felt like there was a double meaning to that, that he didn't have to be perfect. It only made him resent his childhood more. Howard had never told him that, instead preaching the opposite.

"So, er, Natasha said we should have a feelings talk, so.." Tony said in a cheery voice, obviously not feeling cheery. "Let's all sit and talk about our shitty childhoods!"

"Tony.."

"So, who wants to talk first?" Tony rubbed his hands and smiled, and the phoniness was almost sickening. Everyone knew he didn't feel super comfortable with this, but he couldn't stop being so sarcastic and fake, because it was how he coped.

"I'll talk." Clint offered. "I'm deaf because my father beat me when I was a kid." 

Tony looked at the archer with a sense of understanding, but hurt too. He didn't realise his own teammate had gone through the same thing as him.

"Don't feel bad for not knowing." Clint said specifically to Tony, who wondered how he knew. "I don't talk about these things, and none of you guys have made me feel the way my dad did. Tony, you made me better hearing aids that don't get affected during fights. You've done enough. Don't feel guilty."

Tony nodded at him, unable to voice his words.

"The red room was shit." Natasha began. "They forcefully sterilised us, brainwashed us and essentially tortured us into Black Widows. I learnt a lot there, that has been helpful to me, and it gave me a sister, but it was still shit. None of us wanted it."

"I'm sorry." Tony couldn't help but say. He knew there was no way of reversing a hysterectomy, so there was nothing he could do to help, to fix things. He was completely useless.

"You're here." Natasha said. "You brought me back here, and the rest of us. Like Clint said, don't feel guilty."

"I was ill for most of my childhood. Bucky can tell you. I was a skinny, asthmatic kid who was far too stubborn for my own good. I miss the forties, a lot sometimes, but I'm getting used to the future, or, the present, for you guys. It's hard, but you guys have made me feel welcome and I wouldn't have made it without this team. So thank you. Tony, you especially."

Tony didn't know how to respond to all this positive attention. He wasn't used to it, but everyone had something to say, and gratitude for him. Hearing Bucky talk about his time with HYDRA was hard, and Wanda too. Sam talked about how he found it hard to fight after he lost his partner, and that hit Tony hard. 

"Okay, so I guess I need to talk now." Tony tapped his fingers on his leg. "So, er, my dad, if you didn't figure it out already, was an abusive piece of shit. He didn't want me to be anything but perfect, hated the idea of me showing emotions because it was weakness, and was jealous of how I was smarter than he was." 

"I'm sorry for comparing you to him." Steve smiled sadly.

"It's okay." 

"It's not." Steve said sternly, making it clear that there was no room for argument. 

"When we saw you as a kid, you had a bruise on your cheek." Sam pointed out. "And there was some obvious discomfort regarding your ribs. Do you remember what happened?"

"I have eidetic memory, so yeah, I remember everything." Tony shrugged. "I was building an engine, and he needed the workshop. He got annoyed that I was in there, and then when he realised what I was making, he was pissed off that I could make an engine at the age of seven, though not fully. So he broke the engine and then threw the parts at me. Hence the bruise on my face and broken ribs." 

"What the fuck." Clint immediately reacted. "I know all about abusive dads, but what the fuck. He threw engine parts at you because you were a smart kid? Shouldn't he be praising you for it?"

"He was glad I wasn't a stupid kid, so yeah, he praised me for it at first. But then I grew up a little, and got way smarter, at a faster rate than he did when he was a kid, so he got pissed off by it. He praised me in the media to make the Stark image look good, but behind closed doors he hated me for it."

"You don't like being handed things." Natasha started. "Is this because of him?"

Tony couldn't help but be shocked. "Yeah, er, I don't know how you figured that out, but yeah. A little while after the engine incident, he started to get really mad whenever I was in the workshop. So if I was in there, he'd make me hold things, hot things, like hot metal or a hot soldering iron to put me off engineering. It didn't work, though. Just made not like being handed things."

Wanda's fingertips started to go red without meaning to. "If he wasn't dead, he would be now." 

Tony smiled at that. "It's all in the past now. None of it really bothers me anymore. Today was just a fluke."

"Or maybe you just tricked yourself into thinking that for so long that when you were a kid again, it brought everything that you'd compartmentalised back up, and you can't avoid it this time." Natasha said casually.

"I really don't like how easily you read people."

"It's not easy." She shrugged. "I didn't realise anything until I saw you as a child. You hide behind a strong mask."

"But not anymore."

"It's not a bad thing to feel, Tony." Steve held onto the brunet's hand. "You're allowed to feel. Fuck whatever Howard said. He's nothing. There's a reason why your name is more memorable than his. You're a better person, smarter, more impressive, stronger. Letting yourself feel doesn't erase any of that."

"Language."

"You're never letting that go, are you?"

"Nope." Tony smiled teasingly.

"You can be 'weak' with us, you know?" Clint tilted his head slightly, invitingly. "Steve's right. You're twice the man Howard was, and you're strong regardless of whether or not you show how you feel. No one's going to shame you for feeling. Not anymore."

"It's hard." He admitted. "It's hard because- well, my entire life I've had these rules that I have to be strong and not show how I really feel, even if someone I love has died. I've had to look flawless for so long that it's hard to remember that I can let my guard down. All of these rules, they're embedded in me now. It's hard to change that. And I don't really want to."

"It's similar to the Red Room. They forced us to be just like Howard forced you to be, although they were more focussed on desensitising us to murder and not surrender easily, or at all. But I get it, not being able to forget the way you've been manipulated and brainwashed. It's hard to change. But it takes time, and it takes willingness. If you want to, you can."

"I don't know if I want to."

"You genuinely want to keep forcing yourself to not feel, even though it just makes the inevitable breakdown so much worse?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Tony ran a hand through his hair. "It's hard, okay?"

"We get it, all of us do." Clint smiled reassuringly. "If you let us in, completely, we can do the same. It'll get to the point where it feels normal to talk and share and be free in how you feel."

"I was four, and it was my first press conference, when he tried to teach me how to look picture-perfect." Tony mentioned. "And I failed. I ran away because I was overwhelmed, and he broke my circuit board in front of me and threw all the pieces at me. I was little and it hurt. It's things like these that make me struggle to accept weakness."

"It's not weakness." Steve said in his Captain voice. "I'll keep telling you that until you understand, if that's what it takes."

"I'll stop masking if it makes you more comfortable doing the same." Natasha offered, and Tony did nothing to hide his surprise. Natasha's mask of indifference was her strongest feature. She had always been good at looking emotionless, and a lot of people resented her or respected her for it.

This was a big deal. 

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course." She smiled, genuinely. "You're one of us, Tony. You're like my annoying, genius brother. I love the sarcastic, funny side of you, but I'd love to see you like this more. You look so real, and it makes the love I have for you realer."

Tony pressed his lips together and tried to stop himself from crying. "I love you, Nat."

"I know you do." She teased.

"I'm not going to suddenly be honest and open." Tony warned. "And there are going to be days where I'll shut down completely and lock myself in here. I'm not going to- to reverse what Howard did immediately."

"And that's okay." 

Tony sighed, and realised he was crying. He wiped his tears quickly, but Natasha held onto his hand and wiped them herself.

"You can cry, you know?" She said softly. "But if you don't want to, I'll still comfort you. I'll wipe your tears if that feels safer than crying. I mean it when I say I've got you."

Tony gave her a watery smile. "Thank you. I mean that."

She nodded. 

The team felt safer now that they had all spoken about intimate things. Tony was right in saying that he wouldn't feel more comfortable immediately, though. After the talk, he couldn't help but lock down the lab, but not for a bad reason. He had a lot to process, and the team understood that.

Their team dinners and movie nights became more frequent. There were nights when things were bad, for any of the Avengers, and they'd sit down and talk. It became a tradition of theirs; if someone was sad, Tony would make hot chocolate and Natasha would make her beloved blini (Russian crepes), and they'd talk together.

It was three months later when Tony finally found himself being the one talking, having someone make him hot chocolate and eating blini. He had put off going to the team for support for a long time, but when he saw Natasha get comforted for once, it made him feel like, if she could, why couldn't he?

And he hated the fact that he loved it. The team was everything he needed to feel better, and he wanted more. He craved more. 

After months of learning more and more about each other, Tony knew who to go to for specific things. If he wanted a firm but loving talk, he went to Steve. If he wanted professional-ish support, he went to Sam. If wanted humour for comfort and someone who understood, he went to Clint.

When he felt like he hated Howard more than anything, he went to Bucky, because, though he'd never say it, Bucky felt better about what he'd done as the Winter Soldier when he heard how terrible Howard was. When he needed to unpack his guilt, he went to Wanda, who had apologised for the nightmares and helped soothe his guilt with some sort of mystical head massage. (I abuse the power of fiction.)

And when he wanted someone who would be real with him, but also someone who understood how hard it was to let his guard down, he went to Natasha. After the Civil War, he'd become so much closer to her and she was the closest he had to a sister. Besides, it never hurt to have some sweet blini to make him feel better.

Though it took time, Tony felt better and safer and Howard's brainwashing method of parenting was slowly dissolving. He was becoming more open, with the team and himself. He felt more like Tony Stark than he had in a while.

He couldn't help but be grateful that they listened to him, after severely messing up. Because now they knew why wealth isn't everything, and they appreciated him more for it.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was torn apart after the Civil War. His injuries fucked him up but they were healable, but what he went through felt unhealable. Losing his teammate who, despite their ups and downs, he'd finally established a healthy friendship with before the Civil War, and then losing the rest of his team, seeing them locked up and doing nothing when they went missing, hurt.

Worst of all, watching the Winter Soldier kill his parents. And then he hurt the prisoner of war beneath the Winter Soldier, in a grief-blinded rage, and breaking his arm? Barnes didn't deserve that, and Tony knew it. He just couldn't see that at the time.

He wanted nothing more than to go back in time and erase what he did. All the way back to Ultron, because he missed JARVIS an unhealthy amount. FRIDAY was smart, sassy and learning the ropes quickly, but no one would be as good as JARVIS. 

He was Tony's only link back to Edwin Jarvis, after all.

So, Tony, in his painkiller-infused haze, decided to try and turn back time. He knew that it was probably impossible, but if there was such thing as actual mind-reading/manipulating, and real life super-soldiers, surely it had to be plausible? It wouldn't hurt to try.

Oh, Tony was so wrong.

"Tony?" 

Who was that?

"Tony?" 

A redhead walked into wherever he was, and she was tall. And pretty. And looked dangerous. She reminded him a little bit of Aunt Peggy. Where was Aunt Peggy, or Mama, or Jarvis? Everything seemed so futuristic.

The woman noticed him, and she started muttering curses in Russian, or he at least guessed she was. He didn't know whether or not he should feel scared and threatened, or ask her for help. Howard would probably hate either option. Where was he, anyway?

"Tony?"

"Yes?" 

She swore again, English this time. "What- how old are you?"

"I'm ten." He lied, confidently.

"Truth this time."

How did she know? Is she a spy? "I'm seven."

The swearing continued, though it was a mix of English and Russian. "Okay, Tony. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I was eating breakfast, and now I'm here."

Natasha had a look of distress, only for a moment though, like she didn't want to worry him. He was already worried. It seemed like he was always worried. 

"Okay, I'm gonna make a phone call." She stood up. "FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Agent Romanoff?"

Agent Romanoff? She was a spy.

"Do you have any footage of what caused this?"

"My systems are partly down, but I will try. If I am able to, it will be sent directly to you, under discretion of course."

"Alright, thank you."

He was quiet through the interaction, only because he didn't like visibly expressing how he felt. Which was shock, and fear. There was a spy here, meaning he could've been kidnapped again, and there was a talking being with no body, and that freaked him out.

It was also intriguing.

"You gonna be okay to just sit here for a little bit?"

He nodded, only because he didn't want to be a nuisance.

When she walked away, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He was Tony Stark, and this was not the seventies. He had to be in the wrong time period, because nothing here was- was right. It was all more complicated than anything he'd ever seen in his father's workshop.

Whoever Agent Romanoff was, though.. Tony trusted her. He didn't know why.

"Okay kid, I just-" She stopped dead in her tracks. Tony, or at least, little Tony, was exploring his own workshop, an expression of pure joy on his face. He was excited by this. She didn't want to ruin that for him, but this place was dangerous and she didn't know what else could set off. "Kid?"

Tony stilled, heart racing. It wasn't Howard, it was the pretty, red-haired spy. "Yes?"

"We can't be in here."

Just like he could never go in Howard's workshop. "Where are we going then?"

"We need to.. Tony, what year is it?"

"I'm not silly." He crossed his arms. "I know we're not in the seventies right now. There's no way. This place- the technology- it's far too advanced. I'd say we're in the next century."

"As in..?"

"Twenty-ten. No, we're in twenty-fifteen. Sixteen?" 

Natasha was impressed, showing it with her signature eyebrow raise. "You're a smart kid. Can you guess where we are?"

He shook his head, and Natasha wondered why he didn't realise everything was his. There was no one else in the world capable of creating things like he had. Or at least, not as well as he could.

"Well, Tony, we're in your workshop."

"My workshop?"

She nodded.

"But- but I couldn't have- me?" 

For someone named as a genius from the age of four, he didn't seem very sure of himself. It made Natasha curious. And she wanted to know more. "Yeah, this is all yours. FRIDAY, who I spoke to earlier, is a self-learning AI who you made. And she's the second one."

"What was the first one?"

"JARVIS."

"Jarvis?" Tony's eyes widened, and he looked up and around. "What- why is Jarvis an AI?"

"He's.. not supposed to be?"

"No- no, Jarvis is- he- he's supposed to be our butler. He's a real person. Why is he an AI?"

This was news to Natasha. She didn't know much about the previous generation of Starks, considering it was never a mission of hers. Except from when she was Natalie, she barely knew anything about any Stark. Her report of Tony was short, with not much reliable information to go off of.

After the mission, she never prioritised analysing Tony. They became friends, so she didn't think it was necessary. Besides, Tony was surprisingly good at hiding things, and he often had a mask of something unreadable, even for her. She never let her curiosity get the best of her though.

"I think, something might have happened, and you let him live on through an AI. He had a British voice."

"Jarvis was British."

Natasha nodded in understanding. "Well, look, it really isn't safe to be here right now. Do you think you're okay to leave with me?"

"You're a stranger." He folded his little arms.

"My name is Natasha Romanoff. In the future, I am your teammate in an elite band of superheroes called the Avengers." She hoped superhero-talk would sedate him. "We are friends."

"Superheroes?"

"You built yourself a suit and have saved the world with it." She looked around, making sure Tony did too. "Those suits you were looking at? Superhero suit. You built them, built them all. You can ask FRIDAY if you're not sure."

"Can I- can I trust her?" 

"Agent Romanoff is a trusted SHIELD agent." 

Natasha winced, internally, at the tone of the AI. FRIDAY wasn't happy with any of the Avengers after the Civil War. Especially not after Natasha switched sides, betraying Tony even if wasn't her intention to. 

"SHIELD?" Tony piped up. "As in, Aunt Peggy's SHIELD?"

"Aunt Peggy?" There was more to Tony as a kid, than she ever expected, and she was curious. But she wouldn't let it overcome her.

"Peggy Carter? She made SHIELD. She's told me all the stories, and the ones with Captain America and his Howling Commandos." There was an excitement to him that was so raw. "Dad tells me all about him, too. Everyone talks about Captain America, even if it- well it was, the seventies."

Something about him changed at the mention of his father. It was known, to her at least, that Tony had daddy issues and only got mad over the murder of his mom. She wondered why. Maybe she'd find out soon.

"That's lovely, but please, we really need to go." She softened her tone. "It's dangerous in here. I don't know what happened to make you like this, so I really need you to leave with me in case something else happens."

"Active experiment zones are always dangerous." He mumbled. "Okay, but you- are- never mind."

Natasha looked the boy over, properly, and saw the fading bruise on his jaw. It was a big bruise, though it was barely visible. "What happened to your face?"

Tony held his jaw, like he didn't even remember it was there. "I don't know? Did I get it here?"

Was he lying? Natasha genuinely couldn't tell. "It seems old."

"I don't know then."

Natasha stayed quiet, taking the boy by his hand and walking him out of the workshop. She always resented being sterile, and wondered if it was a good or bad thing. Seeing young Tony had opened up the maternal side she tried to keep locked away, save for with Clint's kids. 

Usually, her lack of empathy around kids situated from her sterilisation, and it made her job easier. But with Tony, she felt more than she'd felt in a long time. She didn't know if she liked it or not.

Tony had fallen asleep in her arms as she carried him to the Stark Jet. FRIDAY had authorised access, and was happy to pilot the jet, unless Natasha felt like doing so during the flight. She knew older Tony would hate her for this, but she had no choice. There was nowhere else she could take him.

So, to Wakanda they flew.

"Nat?" Clint couldn't believe she was in front of him. He didn't think he'd see her for a while. "You- how are you here?"

"T'Challa has been keeping me informed." She said simply. "Look, I have a problem. I need you to get the rest of the team here so we can talk. Quickly."

Clint nodded, understanding the tone of urgency in her voice. Within a minute, the room was filled with all the Rogues. T'Challa had joined as well, already aware of the situation. 

"You need to be sensitive about this." Natasha began. "I walked into Tony's workshop yesterday. It was the first time I'd been since.. everything. And I found him, but he wasn't exactly.. him."

"What does that mean?" 

"He's.. a child."

"A child?" 

Natasha nodded. "Something went wrong in his workshop, clearly, and he ended up being seven years old. He knows we're in the future, though. He guessed."

"I've always wanted to see Stark as a kid." Clint was amused.

"Lay a hand on him and I'll break it off." This was her way of apologising to Tony for switching sides. "I only brought him because there's no one else I know who can watch over him, and his place is dangerous right now. You guys cannot hurt him, no matter how angry you are."

"We would never hurt a child." Bucky said calmly. If there was one rule the Winter Soldier had for himself, it was to never hurt a child. And he never did.

Natasha hummed. "He's sleeping right now. When he wakes up, I'll introduce you guys to him. He's okay with me right now, I assume he trusts me. If there's any issues in the time it takes for us to figure out what happened and how to reverse it, you call me."

"Understood."

"Morning, Tony." 

Tony looked up in confusion, the previous night's events coming back to him. He thought he had dreamed it all, but it was all too real to be a dream. And it wasn't. He didn't know where he was now, though. He last remembered being carried and now he was.. not in the USA?

"Where am I?"

"You're in Wakanda."

"That's where Vibranium is from." Tony realised excitedly. He toned it down immediately when he realised this was some superspy, and she didn't care about his scientific adoration. No one really did, except the media.

"Yes, it is." She smiled. "Remember the Avengers, the superheroes I told you about?"

"Yeah."

"They're here." She mentioned. "It was too dangerous to stay in Manhattan, so I brought you here. Is that okay?"

"Sure." He said unconvincingly.

"Do you want to meet them?"

Tony, though mature for his age, was still a child, so he nodded immediately, jumping out of the bed he was in. "Do they have superpowers?"

"One of them does." Natasha didn't mention that the one with powers wasn't fond of him.

"That's so cool." 

Natasha took the boy's little hand, walking with him to the living room. She couldn't spend too much time with him, fearing that she'd get attached and start to resent her inability to have kids all over again. She hadn't felt that way in a while.

When Tony walked in, he froze. Natasha wasn't sure if it was out of excitement or something else. She followed his gaze and saw him looking at Steve, and wondered if he remembered the Civil War. He couldn't have, though, because the last thing he remembered was eating.

"Is that.. Captain America?"

"Yes."

Tony felt sick. Howard had constantly spoke of the great super-soldier, and dedicated his life to finding him. Tony found the idea of the man cool, but he hated him at the same time, because he was the reason Howard never paid any attention to him. 

"They found him?"

"Tony?" Steve had turned around, noticing the kid. The rest had all turned to look at him, and Tony felt unbelievably small.

He didn't want to meet the superheroes anymore.

"That's Steve, or Captain America, as you know." Natasha pointed. "That's Clint, or Hawkeye. There's Sam, the Falcon, Wanda, the Scarlet Witch, the one with powers, Scott, or Ant Man and-"

"Bucky Barnes?" Tony knew all about him too. But he was dead. Long gone. Not a super-soldier. So why was he here, and why did he have a metal arm? Also, his metal arm was really cool and Tony wanted to check it out.

"You know who I am?" Bucky was surprised.

"You're- you're Captain America's best friend, one of the Howling Commandos. Aunt Peggy told me all about you. But- but she told me you were dead. You're- you're not dead?"

"Aunt Peggy?" Both of the super-soldiers asked.

Tony only then remembered that Steve and Peggy had something, before he went down in the Valkyrie. "Is- is she still alive?"

Steve felt sick. He remembered shouting at Tony at the funeral, sending him away and getting so mad over the thought that Tony would be so selfish as to corrupt a funeral just so he could preach his views over the Accords.

He hadn't remembered that Peggy and Howard were friends, which meant, of course, Tony knew her. He hadn't remembered that at all, and it meant Tony was excluded from his aunt's funeral. Because of him.

"She, er, passed away recently."

"Only recently?"

Steve nodded.

"That's okay then. If I'm in the wrong time period, it means I'll still have a lot of time with her before she goes." Tony said optimistically. "But anyways, how is he alive? And when did they find you?"

"Five years ago."

"It took... sixty-six years for them to find you?" Tony didn't hide the shock on his face. "But- did my dad find you? He had an obsession with finding you."

Steve looked at Natasha, who shrugged. 

"No, he didn't." Steve said. 

Tony wondered why no one said anything to him about Bucky, but he didn't ask again. He knew that asking too many questions, or the wrong ones, could get him in trouble. He didn't want these new people to get mad at him.

"I need to go talk to T'Challa and figure out what happened to him." Natasha said to Steve. "Look after him, will you?"

"Yeah, 'course." 

Natasha was gone. Tony didn't feel very safe.

Tony had asked what the technology was like, and then was handed an iPad and told to do whatever. He didn't really want to just be given an iPad, but it gave him a chance to explore modern technology, and he quickly got the hang of it. 

He used the opportunity to do some research.

"Really?" Someone said quietly, but he heard. "Giving him a tablet. God, he couldn't get anymore spoilt, could he?"

"He's seven."

"Yeah, and he grew up with the best life out of us all. He always had food on the table, a roof over his head, and probably a new laptop a year. He's always had it easy, and has always had money. And here you guys are, throwing an iPad at him and letting him have everything easy, just like always."

"Wanda.."

"No, don't Wanda me." She snapped. "It's not fair. He decided to be an idiot and de-age himself, and the first thing you do is continue to spoil him. Maybe, he should get a taste of what everyone else's childhood was like, instead of letting him keep living lavishly."

"Wealth isn't everything."

Was that Natasha's voice? It sounded like her.

"For him, it is."

"You barely know him." 

"Tough luck. He's a spoilt little Stark, and I guarantee if I went through his head, I'd just find his happy little childhood, sitting on piles of money."

"Stand down, Wanda." Was that Steve? It sounded like him. "He's just a kid."

"It's not fair." Who was that? "Wanda's right. We're letting him have it easy just because he's Stark. He should get a taste of a normal childhood whilst he's here."

"No one can say what a normal childhood is like out of us."

"Shut up."

"It's not fair." There was the girl, Wanda, speaking again. "He ruined my childhood and now, what, he gets to sit here like he's special just because he's a kid too?"

Tony didn't know what he'd done, but he felt sick. He felt really sick, and he put the iPad down immediately. He didn't want it if they were assuming this was the life he'd lived, and always had. 

He was a rich kid, yes, but he wasn't spoilt. 

"Just- leave him alone whilst I figure things out, alright?" Natasha asked. He liked her. She was nice to him.

"Yeah yeah."

Footsteps faded out, and he wondered if anyone would come to take the iPad from him. He didn't really need it. He just wanted to see what the technology in the future was like. He pushed it further away when he heard footsteps in his direction.

"Hello." 

"Shut it, Stark."

Tony didn't know what he'd done, but he'd inched back slightly in fear. This girl, Wanda, had red wisps coming from her hands. If she wasn't visibly angry, specifically at him, he would've asked her questions and found it cool.

She reminded him of Howard, and he didn't really like that.

"Wanda?"

This was Hawkeye, or Clint. Natasha told him about the man, and said he was the best marksman out there, rarely missing a shot. He had a strong bond with his bow and arrow, and apparently a weird fascination with ceiling vents.

"What do you want?"

Clint hadn't seemed to notice Tony. "Are you okay?"

"That stupid kid is just so frustrating."

"What a stupid kid you are. Making a toy dog? No one wants that. It's embarrassing how pathetic you are, making a fucking dog just because you're lonely."

"He's-"

"A spoilt little kid and everyone's treating him like a hero." Wanda looked over at the boy discreetly. "He killed my fucking parents."

Tony felt ill. He hadn't eaten since he'd arrived in the future, but he felt like he'd throw up anyway. 

"I know." Clint said softly. "I'm sorry. But there's nothing we can do about it. We can't bring them back, as much as you want to."

"I just feel like Stark deserves to be treated like the rest of us." Wanda frowned. "He took your kids away from you, remember? Locked us up in an underwater prison. I was in a straitjacket with my powers restrained. We were treated inhumanely, because of him."

"So what, you want to lock him up or something?"

"No.." She didn't seem convincing. "Just.. I think I should trick him a bit. You love pranks, don't you?"

"Well, yeah."

Wanda whispered something to Clint, who raised a brow but didn't object. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, just be careful then. Natasha will have our heads if anything goes wrong."

Tony was terrified. He sat still and hoped no one noticed he was there, even if Wanda had already recognised his presence. Clint never saw him, and Wanda was gone, and the iPad was now the least of his concerns.

Tony had fallen asleep on the sofa, terrified. Wanda had come back shortly, finding the boy asleep on the sofa. She had told Clint she'd give him just a little nightmare, a perspective of how they lived, and how he'd affected them.

She went a bit far, though.

Instead of a little nightmare, she had put a memory into his head, twisted. It was of her own childhood, seeing the SI bomb in her room, but instead of her hiding under the bed, it was him. The bomb had gone off in the warped memory, and he just barely survived it.

When Tony woke up, panting and looking around, making sure the nightmare was just that, Wanda felt a sick sense of pride. She decided that would be it for now, but the next one would be her making Tony feel the pain of not being able to visit his children and being locked up.

"What's most important to him, like a kid?"

"Maybe do his parents. Make them feel what my kids are feeling."

And so the next time Tony had fallen asleep, Wanda had put the video of the Winter Soldier killing his parents back into his head. She had him locked up, fully incapable of doing anything, as he watched the real memory, and then made sure to include Peggy's funeral, where he was excluded. 

Tony woke up in tears. 

"Are my parents dead?" 

Wanda looked at the kid, suddenly afraid. She didn't expect that to happen. Clint had looked at her, concerned, and she shrugged, playing it off as if the mess that ensued wasn't her fault. 

"What?"

"My parents." Tony repeated. "They're dead, aren't they? Should've been a car accident but.."

Bucky paled. "What?"

"You." Tony didn't sound angry, like in Siberia. He sounded hurt. "You killed my mom, didn't you?"

"I don't care. He killed my mom."

Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach. Just like in Siberia, he had mentioned the murder of his mom. The emotion in his voice was rawer, more pained. He was a kid, and someone he looked up to had murdered his mom.

"How-"

"The video. I was in a bunker. He killed my mom. I watched him strangle her to death." He looked at Steve. "You knew. You said you knew."

"Tony.."

"It's true, isn't it?" He asked. "It was a dream, but it felt real. I feel like I remember it. And your face, both of your faces, say everything. What I dreamt, it happened?"

"It happened." Steve confirmed quietly.

"Are we friends in the future?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me then?" 

Steve looked down, unable to look at the betrayed expression on the boy's face. Somehow, this was worse than adult Tony finding out. This little boy was going to have to live with them, for however long, knowing Bucky Barnes killed his parents and Captain America didn't tell him.

"There's no way you could've known." Bucky had a look, one he had when he was the Soldier. It meant he was focussed, suspicious. "You shouldn't be able to know."

Steve figured it out quickly. "Wanda?"

"I didn't mean to." She made herself seem upset. "I was just trying to figure out if I could restore his future memories, but then I found one, and I wanted to see what happened. I didn't realise he could too."

Convincing.

Natasha didn't care.

"You did it on purpose."

"I didn't." 

"You've had an issue with him from the moment he got here." Natasha folded her arms. "Not just older Tony, but the seven-year-old version of him too. He's just a kid. He hasn't done anything wrong to you."

"He killed my parents."

"No, SI bombs killed your parents. Ones that Obadiah Stane had sold under-the-counter, without Tony Stark knowing at all." 

"Obadiah did what?" 

Natasha looked at the kid and realised her mistake. She forgot he was there, and that he knew who Obadiah was. Surely the kid didn't need any more heartache. 

"He- no, he's good." Tony cried out. "He wouldn't do that."

"Tony, I'm sorry but-"

Tony ran out immediately. He needed to find one of the iPads and find out what Obadiah Stane had done. Obie, he was the one who defended him, protected him, made him feel safe. Whenever Howard was angry, Obie would sedate him and tell him off for being so mean to his only son.

Obie wouldn't illegally sell bombs without Tony knowing.

Tony felt worse when he had looked up Obadiah. All it said was he died, falling into an Arc Reactor that powered Stark Industries. There was clearly more to it, so Tony casually hacked into SHIELD and found the real file on what happened.

Sick.

He actually threw up this time.

The file had mentioned that Obadiah took- stole an Arc Reactor from Tony's chest- and that was a whole new thing he needed to research- fought Tony and threatened to kill Pepper- who was that?- and then died because there was no other way to stop him.

When he dug deeper, he found out Obie ordered a hit on Tony, which he survived, and then led to him needing an electromagnet to keep shrapnel out of his heart. He made the Iron Man suit in a cave, escaped and didn't find out about what Obie had done until the man almost killed him.

He threw up again, but it was just bile.

Tony's throat felt raw, and his eyes were starting to hurt, and oh, he was crying. Of course he was crying. Obie was more of a parent than Howard had ever been. He thought Obie loved him, but he didn't. He just wanted the company all to himself.

Tony rubbed the fading bruise on his jaw, and then held his chest. His heart hurt, his bruised ribs hurting too. He was seven years old, and he thought his life was bad already, but it got worse. His life just kept getting worse in the future, and he hated it.

"Tony?" 

Natasha?

Tony threw the iPad away from him and curled up on the sofa, pretending to be asleep. There was a dip on the end of the sofa, and Natasha had started to run her hands through his hair.

"I know you're not sleeping." 

"He killed my mom." His voice was scratchy. "She wasn't the best, but she was good. She didn't deserve to be murdered."

"I'm sorry."

"Obie tried to kill me." Tony whispered. "He was supposed to be better. He was always better than Howard. He was nicer, nice to me. He was- he tried to kill me. He- I killed him."

"You didn't have a choice."

"He did." He sounded so weak, and if Howard was there, he'd beat him bloody for it. "He could've done anything else, but he tried to kill me. Twice."

"How do you know about this?"

Tony shrugged. Natasha raised a brow and found the discarded iPad. She seemed impressed when she found SHIELD's private files hacked by the boy from the past.

"I'm sorry." She truly meant it. "Life hasn't been fair to you." 

"Wealth isn't everything."

"You heard that?"

"You're nice to me." Tony said gratefully. "You're the only one who's been nice to me."

"Tony.." She felt guilty. The events of the Civil War flashed through her mind. "When you found out about your parents, you were in a bunker in Siberia. You flew there after a fight we had over Accords, and I was on your side. Until we got to the airport. I let Steve and Bucky go, because I understood why Steve was defending Bucky."

"You betrayed me as well?"

Natasha had never felt so guilty, hearing the hurt in seven-year-old Tony's voice. "I did it for a good reason. I wouldn't have done so if it wasn't justified."

"Is anyone good to me in the future?"

Her heart was breaking, surely. There couldn't be any other reason for the ache in her chest. 

The two were silent for a while, Natasha's hand in Tony's hair. The distraught boy eventually fell asleep, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. He moved around often, wincing in discomfort.

The fading bruise on his jaw was still on Natasha's mind.

There was more to Tony than met the eye, and it was more than ever obvious to her now.

Wealth really wasn't everything.

"He's asleep, and we all need to have a long fucking talk." Natasha said, her tone demanding. "First of all, Wanda, mess with Tony's mind again, and I'll put you back in the Raft. Clint, I know you were part of it. I will shoot you with one of your precious arrows if you even suggest a stupid idea like that again."

"I-"

"Zip it."

Clint was silent.

"You two." She pointed at the super-soldiers. "I'm fully aware Bucky didn't have any choice in killing the Starks, but an apology is still needed. For hurting him in Siberia, but also for never telling him about it. An apology means more to him than you'll realise."

"You hurt him too."

"And I've paid my dues for that." Natasha raised an eyebrow, daring someone to argue back. "Sam, Scott, you've been reasonable so far. Sam, you're a trauma counsellor. Something's off with Tony, aside from all of this, and I need you to talk to him. I'll be with T'Challa, we're close to figuring out how to reverse this. If I find Tony upset again because of you guys again.."

She didn't finish her sentence, but everyone got the gist. They nodded quietly, which was the only smart thing to do, and then she was gone.

"I'll admit, the whole nightmare thing was fucked up." Scott mentioned. "I'm gonna see if he's alright."

"You don't even like him."

"Doesn't matter." 

Scott left, and Sam looked at Wanda judgingly, and then followed suit. Steve and Bucky were gone, and even Clint had left, needing to train to take out the anger he felt, at himself. Wanda was all alone.

She didn't like it.

"Hey kid."

Tony had just woken up, and he scrambled away in fear, his back hitting the sofa's armrest. 

"Hey, hey, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Scott smiled, reminded of Cassie. "I'm Scott-"

"Ant-Man."

"Yeah." His voice was gentle. "I'm sorry everyone's been a dick to you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He said quickly, but everything about him suggested otherwise. 

"Remember me?" Sam asked. "I'm Sam, the Falcon. I'm a trauma counsellor." 

"Cool."

"Listen, I just wanted to ask.. there's a lot of things about you that have given me.. warning signs, red flags, you know what I mean?" Sam began. "The bruise on your jaw. How'd you get that?"

"I fell."

"Into someone's fist?"

Tony blinked slowly. "What?"

"There are a lot of signs." Sam smiled sadly. "Wealth isn't everything, is it?"

Tony just shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head.

"What about with Natasha?"

"She betrayed me too." Tony mentioned quietly. "She told me she switched sides. But she apologised for it."

"You're afraid she'll do it again."

Tony didn't say anything, but his eyes said everything. He was afraid. He was afraid of everyone, afraid of being left alone, afraid of having no one in his corner. He felt isolated, like he had no one he could trust.

"I know she switched sides, but she is trustworthy. If you talk to her, she'll be there." Sam said, his voice sure. "I promise."

Promises meant a lot to Tony, and only Rhodey, in the future, knew that. For now, he held onto the promise and wondered if it would be alright to tell someone. He wouldn't remember it in the future, would he? Would he remember any of this?

He hoped he didn't.

"Kid?" Natasha knocked on the door of the room Tony had been staying in. "Sam told me he spoke with you."

Tony had been sitting on the bed, thinking about his life, both past and present. There was a lot he didn't know yet, but he knew so much already that he wasn't sure if he wanted to know anything else.

"I know you're afraid." She sat down at the end of the bed. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I would've never brought you here if I knew how bad everything would be."

"Not your fault."

"It is. You don't have to sugarcoat it for me." 

"Does it all ever get better?"

Natasha wanted to cry for the boy, and she never cried. "It does. We'll get better eventually."

"Obie said that too." Tony had never looked so young. "But he lied. He tried to kill me. I thought he was good. He was the only one who- who- when-" 

"When?"

"When it got bad, he was the only one who stopped things."

"Stopped what?"

Tony looked up at her, the fading bruise becoming more prominent in her eyes. "When he got mad, Obie stopped things. I thought he cared about me."

"Tony, are you hurt anywhere else?"

Tony had tears in his eyes. He put his hand on his chest, and it seemed like he was talking about his heart, but it was clear to Natasha why he seemed pained every time he breathed, every time he spoke, and why he was uncomfortable lying down.

"Is it your ribs?"

The brunet nodded.

"Your father?"

It was clear to Natasha why the murder of Howard Stark wasn't as significant as Maria's. Why it hurt more to see her killed, than him. Howard was never worthy of being a parent. Natasha wondered how Tony had kept the worst parts of his life hidden for so long.

"I'm sorry." She opened her arms a little, and felt relieved when Tony crawled onto her, appreciating the comfort he seemed to not get enough of. "I'm so sorry. I've got you now, okay? I'll always be here."

"I don't want to be a kid anymore." Tony mumbled. "I don't want to grow up either."

"It'll be better once you're older again, okay?" 

"Will it?"

"I promise it will."

Tony was back to being an adult the next morning. With the help of FRIDAY, T'Challa and his team, they had managed to reverse what Tony did in his workshop. He was an adult, and remembered everything.

Little Tony didn't though, somehow. Tony was glad, because life would've been a lot harder if he had to live with everything he found out. 

The moment he was an adult again, he hopped onto his jet and flew home. FRIDAY had taken the liberty of cleaning the workshop and he felt at home again. He felt safe.

He hated the way he missed being safe with Natasha.

"I spoke with Tony last night. The little one." Sam mentioned when they regrouped. "I don't think he's okay, or that he'd ever been."

"We all owe it to him to do better." Natasha said wistfully. 

"Did he confirm it with you?"

She didn't say anything, not wanting to betray the trust little Tony had in her. Though she stayed quiet, Sam knew everything just from that. He felt like he had known already regardless. 

"Confirm what?"

"I'm not the only one who hurt him." Wanda said quietly. "When he fell asleep last night, I went to see him. To apologise. But then, he was having a nightmare, a real one, and I wanted to pay my dues by getting rid of the nightmare and letting him sleep peacefully."

"You saw his nightmare." Steve realised.

"Wealth isn't everything." She admitted. 

"What'd you see?"

"His father." Wanda said vaguely. "He's not the man you remember, Steve. And being rich really doesn't matter. Tony didn't have the perfect, spoilt childhood that I'd assumed he had."

"The bruise on his jaw." Clint looked at Natasha. 

"Like I said, we all owe him apologies."

Tony was fighting the urge to drink. He'd pushed the memories of his father deep, deep down in his mind, but the de-aging incident brought them all back. He didn't want to drink, to be just like his father, but he needed an escape.

He'd been staring at the bottle of whiskey for far too long, slipping in and out of reality and into his memories every now and then. He didn't want to keep thinking about his father, or the good memories of his mother, or the good and the bad ones of Obie. 

Afghanistan was fresh in his mind again, even though it was eight years ago. Siberia felt fresh again too.

Everything, every bad feeling, was relit like a flame and it burnt him. He felt angry, and hurt, and sad. He missed the good times with his team, before the Civil War. He missed what life was like before Ultron. He missed JARVIS.

He felt hot and cold, like Afghanistan and Siberia had combined into one country, filled with nightmares, blood and pain. Fuck, he missed Yinsen too.

"Don't waste your life."

Sighing, Tony put the bottle away and went to his workshop. The only healthy way to process everything was to put it into his work. He had missed calls from several people, Pepper included. He needed to catch up.

Natasha had smuggled the Rogues back into the country, casually, like it wasn't a big deal. To them, they figured it wasn't. It was worth the trouble if it meant doing better, fixing things with Tony.

She politely asked FRIDAY not to mention anything to Tony, with convincing that it wasn't going to be harmful to her creator. The AI was reluctant, but did so. They were all warned that they could be harmed if they tried anything.

Tony Stark's AIs were scary.

"Tony?"

Tony hadn't noticed anything, the loud AC/DC music distracting him. FRIDAY had put it off, and when he was about to yell at her for it, he saw the Rogues in his workshop and it felt like a nightmare come to life.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?"

"We came to apologise." 

Tony didn't know how to react when he realised Wanda had said that.

"Okay, great, do so and be on your merry way."

"Tony." Natasha walked up to him. "I am sorry. Genuinely. I told little you, and I'll tell older you too. I'm sorry for going against you, even if I had a reason to. I was on your side, and if I disagreed, I should've told you before switching up."

"I'm sorry.. for the double agent thing." Tony was angry. His best friend had been hurt. But he shouldn't have said what he said, and they both knew that.

"Thank you." She meant it.

"I'm sorry for never telling you about Bucky. I thought it'd never come up, and if I never told you, I'd spare you unnecessary pain. I didn't though, and I know that now. I'll do better."

Tony nodded, and Steve accepted it.

"I was a dick." Clint said plainly. "I shouldn't have made that comment about Rhodey, or let Wanda do what she did."

"You don't control her."

"I shouldn't have done it." Wanda said simply. "I was cruel. That's on me. And assuming you were spoilt. Wealth isn't everything. I won't do it again."

That was the closest Tony was getting to an apology from her, so he just nodded again. She nodded back, and though there was definitely more to be said, it was enough.

"I'm working on pardons." Tony mentioned. "You guys will be allowed back here, legally, soon. I'm sorry I can't do it quicker-"

"Don't." Sam interrupted him. "Don't apologise. The fact that you're trying is more than enough."

"You know what, Wilson, you're not that bad." Tony joked, the man before Civil War returning. "Never try to be my counsellor again, though."

"Noted."

When they were all gone, Natasha stayed. 

"You're still here?"

"I told you, you've got me now." She sat on the top of the table. "I'm here. I promise."

She kept her promise.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were dancing on thin ice the moment they met each other. Both of them looked for the past in each other, Steve looking for Howard, Tony looking for the Captain America in the stories. When they realised they wouldn't find what they were looking for, tension was high.

Obviously, in the battle they fought together, they had each other's backs. Natasha had Tony's, even if they were dancing on thin ice as well. Everyone was there for each other in the fight, but after, the ice was getting thinner and no one stopped dancing. If you're walking on thin ice, you might as well dance on it.

The ice began to thicken when the Avengers moved into the newly-renovated Stark Tower. Thor was a good icebreaker, whenever he returned. The god was persuasive, managing to get Tony to mingle with the team during dinners, and sit down for movies with them.

It took a while for the ice to clear between Tony and Steve. There was still anger, anger at Tony being everything his reputation said he was, and anger at Steve for being the reason Howard never paid attention to Tony. But it was clearing, and the tension was fading slowly.

Until a new tension formed between them, and it wasn't hatred.

Tony Stark was a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. He was indispensable to the world, his clean energy and effort into making the world a better place after his mass weapon production, made sure of it. He was important, and he knew it.

Until he got kidnapped. 

See, whenever he was kidnapped, it was clear that the kidnappers wanted specific things. Sometimes it was money, sometimes it was weapons. Sometimes it was just to have the great Tony Stark at their disposal. 

Since he became an Avenger, he hadn't been kidnapped. But then he was, mid-battle. A light had shone in everyone's eyes, essentially blinding every superhero, momentarily, and then they were fine, blinking until they could see clearly again. Steve, the super-soldier, was the first one to see properly.

And the one thing he didn't see, who he looked for specifically, was Tony. Not a sign of red and gold anywhere. The billionaire was gone, and so was his suit. And he knew things had to be bad. He had known it was bad when he couldn't see, despite his body being scientifically perfect.

He didn't say anything before searching an entire ten-mile radius, on foot, for Tony. It had taken him a half hour, by sheer adrenaline and dedication, and he hadn't found the man, or even a sign of where he'd gone or who had taken him. 

He collapsed out of exhaustion, and woke up in SHIELD. But Tony still wasn't there, so being awake wasn't worth it.

"Mr Stark." 

Tony opened his eyes slowly. He felt like he had a bad hangover, mixed with a concussion, and short-term paralysis. It reminded him of Obadiah, and that was a whole panic attack he could have later. He compartmentalised it and looked up at the voice.

Now who the hell was that?

"Morning." The man grinned. "Sleep well?"

"Floor's a little cold. And hard." Tony mumbled, never too tired to be sarcastic.

"Shame." The man wasn't anywhere near sympathetic. "Shall we get to business, Mr Stark?"

"No, we can't, because I don't know your name and we're not in a boardroom. Business is usually more formal than this." Tony was kicked in the stomach, shutting him up for a moment. 

"I was told you had quite the mouth on you."

"If it's too much, you could easily just return me to wherever you nicked me from."

"Quiet, Stark."

"God, everyone's so moody these days." He said to himself before getting kicked again, this time in his already sore ribs. When did he get hit in the ribs? How much pain is he in? What other injuries does he have?

"I need you for something."

"Do tell. I'm good for a lot of things." Tony grinned cheekily. He realised that could be seen as flirting, and as much as he liked men, he was not interested in sleeping with his kidnapper. "Like business, mechanics, flying weapons into space.."

"Shut up."

Tony looked up at the voice, deciding to give him a name instead of the voice. He looked like Keanu Reeves back in the nineties, which was lovely and all, and maybe if he wasn't a kidnapper, they could've had something. But he was, so he completely ignored the attractiveness and looked for a flaw.

He decided on Mr Kidnapper, because there wasn't a single flaw in this man. Damn him for being a bad guy. He was really attractive.

"So.." Tony rolled himself over onto his stomach, which god, that hurt. He used his arms to hold his face up and smiled like he wasn't in excruciating pain. "What did you want from me?"

"I want your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Tony raised a brow. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Captain America."

Tony laughed a little, but it hurt his ribs so he stopped quickly. "Oh, you're funny. Sorry, but I'm not dating Captain America. Besides, he's from the forties- there's no way he'd ever be gay. He's too old-fashioned for that."

"There's something between you two. I guarantee he'll be here, and when he does, I'll hang you until he surrenders." 

"I could die very quickly if you tried that. Then he would just beat you bloody, maybe even kill you, and then call it a day."

"So you mean a lot to him, then?"

Tony fucked up. "No, he'd do the same for any Avenger." 

"He would beat me bloody if I took Hawkeye, or the Hulk?"

"You couldn't take the Hulk." 

"You're deflecting." Mr Kidnapper smirked. "You're an important person to Captain America. I took you for a reason. You better hope he takes your place, because for each day he leaves me waiting, I'll break your bones."

"I hope he doesn't. I can take a little bit of pain."

Tony was wrong. Breaking bones hurt like hell, and he'd been there for a week. So far, he had three of his fingers broken, all on his left hand, then his left arm was broken, and then both of his legs were broken. He was in hell.

But he refused to admit that he was in pain, and he refused to admit he wanted Steve to save him. He knew Captain America was tactical, and he didn't think with his heart as much as Steve did. He'd go for the baiter, not the bait, and then save the bait without anyone getting severely harmed.

But he wasn't there. 

He hated that Steve wasn't there.

"Where the fuck is he?" 

Day seven without Tony, and Steve was going crazy. SHIELD and JARVIS were searching to the best of their abilities, but the kidnapper was smart, shattering Tony's phone, leaving the GPS signal stranded halfway across the city from where he was. The suit had been deactivated the moment Tony was taken.

Wherever Tony was, he was hidden well. The kidnapper had played his cards right, and every tape he'd sent of Tony's bones being broken left not a single trace behind. JARVIS was smart, but he was smarter with Tony. There was nothing the AI could do.

Steve had kept his calm until it had been a week, and Tony's most recent bone had split in half, and there was a close up of where the bone stuck out of his skin, which had paled due to cold temperatures and lack of food. Tony looked weak, but he kept his composure, until the most recent tape where he screamed.

Steve couldn't get the sound out of his head. It kept replaying over and over, and every time he slept, he saw the tapes in his dreams that turned into nightmares. He couldn't handle not having Tony gone anymore.

He thought he was going crazy.

"I don't know, Captain." A SHIELD agent, who had been the poor victim of that day's meltdown, replied. "We're still searching."

"Fuck." Steve shouted, fists pounding into the wall beside him. The brick wall had a hole in it, and the agent was honestly terrified. Steve's anger was violent, and he didn't seem to care about his now-broken hand. 

"Rogers." Fury was there. He was always there to rescue the poor agent by taking Steve away to a safer place to let out his anger. Steve had come close to breaking the Hulk room, which was saying everything.

Steve was losing it.

"We think we're close to finding him. JARVIS and I have found traces of where the suit, which we're hoping is with Tony, could be. We're going to check the three spots tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Livid. "Tomorrow, he'll have a new broken bone. There's only so much he can take before- before-"

"Breathe." Fury said calmly. "We need backup. We don't know what could be waiting for us if we find him."

"Fuck backup." Steve was far beyond caring about not swearing. "I will go right fucking now if it means finding him."

"You're crazy, Steve."

"Don't blame me."

"I know it's hard without him. We all want him home. You have to be patient. Tony won't want to come home and find you deranged." Nick Fury had never sounded so soft. "Get some sleep. We'll need you rested for tomorrow."

All three spots were completely empty, and Steve lost his mind. He tore each and every warehouse apart even after not finding Tony, and at some point he'd started crying whilst breaking down a wall.

"Steve.."

"Fuck off."

Natasha sighed. "Look, I know you miss him, but we all do. You need to keep yourself sane so you don't lose it before we find him."

"It feels like we never will." Steve ran his hands through his hair, tugging the blond strands hard. "There's so much I never got to do, got to say. He deserves so much more than this. I never got to apologise for all the shitty things I said to him before- before things changed."

"You love him." 

Steve looked up at her. "What?"

"We've all known. We see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. The tension between you is out of love." Natasha held Steve's shoulder. "You will find him, and when you do, you'll tell him everything. And then you're going to take him on a date and give him all the love he deserves."

"I think I'm going crazy."

"I don't blame you." She smiled. "Love has made you crazy."

Steve sat alone in Tony's workshop. There were so many memories of them in there, memories where Steve was blind. He hadn't even seen his own love for the billionaire. Now he knew his own feelings, the memories became even more precious.

One night, Tony had introduced Steve and his bots, and Steve treated them with the most love and care that Tony had left, trusting Steve enough with the bots he considered his kids. When he came back, he watched Steve fondly, not knowing Steve knew. 

Another night, Tony had let Steve assist him in his work. Steve was mostly useless, but then Tony was drawing a sketch of something, and Steve had taken over, practically drawing the design into life. Tony had watched, admired and then physically created the design. Steve was amazed.

There was so much about Tony that had kept Steve in utter awe of him. Steve was wrong for saying he was nothing but a man in a suit. Tony truly was a genius, and deserved every dollar to his name. 

The memory that stood out to Steve was the one where he'd found Tony drunk on a bad day, and even though Tony usually shied away from physical touch and any sign of affection, he had let Steve carry him into bed, change his clothes and tuck him in. He asked Steve to stay, and Steve did. 

He woke up with Tony's head on his chest, and Steve had skipped his morning run. He embraced every moment of that night, of that morning, and he continued to take care of Tony for the rest of the day, and every other day he could.

He couldn't believe he didn't realise he was in love.

There was electricity between Steve and Tony, and Steve now knew fully, in his heart, that if he had to, he'd burn the world down for Tony, and then put the fire out just to make sure Tony had a safe place to live. He would kill for him, die for him, and live for him.

He hoped Tony felt the same.

Tony was tired. He hadn't eaten in two days, barely drank enough water to keep the headaches away and was in so much pain that he refused to move. He was running out of energy to argue, to be sarcastic, to even breathe. He was tired.

He thought he'd last longer than this.

Steve would've. Steve would've fought his way out, taken out Mr Kidnapper and singlehandedly returned to Tony without a scratch. 

God, Tony missed Steve. He was sure that deep down, he loved the perfect soldier, and that he didn't hate him anymore. He didn't blame Steve for Howard's negligence anymore. It was never his fault.

He missed Steve. He wanted to love the blond in peace, he wanted to kiss him and go on dates and sleep on his perfectly-sculpted chest. He wanted everything and anything Steve had to offer.

But he was giving up. He couldn't try anymore. His body hurt too much to do so.

His heart hurt too.

"He's not coming." Tony said weakly, too tired to even scream at the feeling of his fifth finger being broken. "You might as well give up."

"But it's so fun to hurt you."

"Do you get off on this?" Tony almost laughed at his own humour. "I really think you're a sadist."

Mr Kidnapper kicked him and left. Tony didn't know whether that was an answer or not. 

He sighed and stared at the ceiling, just like he had for the past week. He only knew how long it had been, ten days now, because of how many bones he'd broken. He was lucky Mr Kidnapper was smart, choosing to break each bone cleanly, except for his left leg. His bone was sticking out and he'd thrown up over it four times.

He didn't have much to throw up anymore.

It hurt his entire being to sit up, crawling to the door to find some sort of peace. He needed food. He wasn't thinking of escaping, because he wouldn't get anywhere if he did. He would be stranded, injured, and more likely to die if he tried.

He just wanted something to eat, some water to drink. He'd drink muddy water if it meant something to soothe his aching throat. 

After ten minutes of slow, painful crawling, Tony found himself in a dark room. He reached up for a light switch, screaming internally at the feeling of his ribs tugging agonisingly as he did so. He had found the light switch eventually, and then he heard Mr Kidnapper.

He was lucky that the door had a lock, and it seemed like Mr Kidnapper didn't have the key on him. He underestimated Tony's resilience, though it was only for some food and water. He heard swearing from behind the door, and angry footsteps.

Tony sat against the door, collapsing in relief. It was only when he looked up, that he realised why Mr Kidnapper had been so pissed.

There, sitting beautifully broken, like a mirror, was his Iron Man suit. It was definitely useless in case of an escape, but Tony Stark was a genius. He had intelligence that people envied, and that came to his rescue.

The arc reactor was broken, and it seemed like Mr Kidnapper had been trying to fix it, maybe to draw Steve out. He left everything Tony needed to fix it, and he hoped his luck wouldn't go south. 

Crawling to his suit was painful, but the adrenaline had him moving quickly enough to make him move fast enough. His broken arm and fingers were an inconvenience, but he'd started healing enough for him to move them around, picking up tools and working on the reactor. 

He didn't need to get in the suit. All he needed was JARVIS.

"Sir?"

"Oh my god, JARVIS." Tony felt his body deflate with relief. The adrenaline was starting to wear off. "JARVIS, how much of the suit is damaged?"

"Weapon systems and thrusters are down. You would still be protected if you were inside the suit."

"GPS?"

"Damaged, but reparable."

Tony felt the adrenaline pumping again, and he worked on fixing the GPS. Mr Kidnapper's footsteps only willed him to work faster, and by the time the door broke open, Tony was inside the suit, breathing heavily.

Mr Kidnapper walked towards Tony, trying to figure out how to get Tony out. He'd only gotten the man out once, by pure luck. He broke the reactor until he could manually pry Tony out, but now the reactor was back to life and Tony was locked in.

He began to kick at the suit, his attempts proven futile when Tony didn't move once, not even to groan or wince. The suit was his bodyguard, and Mr Kidnapper was completely fucked. He no longer had the upper hand, or any hand.

"GPS sent to SHIELD."

Mr Kidnapper paled, and Tony smiled even though moving his face hurt. He received a lot of punches whilst he was too weak to fight back. 

"You messed up." Tony taunted. "They're coming for you. You're going to get beaten bloody by Captain America."

"I can still kill you." 

"Do tell."

"I could break the reactor again." Mr Kidnapper said confidently. "There's another one in your chest, and I'm very sure it's what keeps you alive. If I break the suit's reactor, I'm sure it'd break the one underneath."

Tony stiffened, heart racing. He felt his heartbeat in his fingers, ears, throat. Mr Kidnapper still had one last play, and all the pain and effort Tony endured to get to the suit would be worthless. 

"JARVIS?"

"Yes?"

"Is there anything that I could kill him with."

JARVIS stayed silent, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. Mr Kidnapper looked smug, realising what the lack of response meant. He could kill Tony and escape and no one would ever find out what he did.

"Say your goodbyes Stark."

Before he could, the door was opened so aggressively it flew off of its hinges, and a shield had flown rapidly into Mr Kidnapper's back. The man fell to his knees, and before he could say a single thing, utter a taunt, hurt Tony again, his throat was squeezed tightly, and the man was out like a light.

"Don't blame me, love made me crazy."

Tony cried.

His body finally shut down, safe with Steve.

As a cruel reminder and deserving payback, SHIELD, Steve and Natasha had beaten Mr Kidnapper, whose name was finally discovered as Aryan James. He was tortured until he was on the brink of death, in every way SHIELD could possibly think of. And then, to avenge what happened to Tony, Steve snapped James' neck in one swift motion. 

Tony was put into a medical coma for three weeks to let his body heal, which made Steve go insane. He had Tony within his reach, and yet the brunet was still so far away. Every day, Steve sat waiting for him to wake up.

The Avengers, and Nick, had to force Steve out to shower, and brought him meals and shouted at him to sleep, with threats of knocking him out if he didn't do so willingly. He complied, as long as he got to stay with Tony.

He was in love, and it was making him crazy.

When Tony finally woke up, Steve was still there. The first thing he noticed was Steve's hand in his own, and he looked up to see the man peacefully sketching. The paper showed a half-drawn Tony, smiling in the workshop.

Steve looked up to try and get the finer details of the billionaire's face, and when he saw Tony awake, he didn't hesitate to get up and hug him. Tony was taken aback, but he rested his head on Steve's shoulder and let out a breath of relief.

Tony was asleep again within minutes.

He woke up three more times before he could stay awake fully. He was fed ice chips and checked over, and then he was alone with Steve again, and his hand was still wrapped tightly around Tony's.

"Did you mean it?" He asked.

"Mean what?"

"When you said love made you crazy." 

"Tony Stark, I would burn the world down to the ground if it meant keeping you safe. I would lift up a mountain and swim a thousand miles just to make sure you're okay. Physically and metaphorically. I would, will, and have killed for you and I'd do it all again just so no one hurts you. I love you, Shellhead. You make me crazy."

"Did you.. kill him?"

Steve rubbed his thumb over Tony's knuckles, careful not to hurt his broken fingers. "I snapped his neck in half for breaking your bones. He deserved it."

Tony would've been mortified, should've been mortified, but he wasn't. He'd never felt safer. "You weren't lying when you said I make you crazy."

"Love made me crazy."

"I love you, Steve." Tony whispered, only wanting Steve to hear. "I love you so much. I'm so glad you came to save me. He- he was-"

"I heard." Steve's voice went deep, cold. "I heard him threaten to kill the reactor. I know how- how shit reactor threats are for you. I almost lost it, but then I saw you in the suit, and I knew I had to make sure you were okay first."

"I love you." Tony's voice was weak, and tears welled up in his eyes. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you, Tony." Steve kissed his hand, soft and gentle, and it was like he healed the breaks in his fingers. (He didn't, obviously. Love makes people crazy.) "When you're better, when you can walk and talk and smile and build again, I'm going to take you out on a date. And when we get home, I'm going to hold you until you fall asleep, and I won't leave until you're awake again."

"I'm tired."

"Then sleep. I'll be here until you fall asleep, and I'll still be here when you wake up." Steve kissed Tony's forehead. "Always."

Tony fell asleep feeling completely, utterly safe.

Steve didn't leave.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was a child prodigy. He made a circuit board at the age of four, and ever since, his mind developed fast, getting smarter and smarter every year. He was sent to high school at ten and was applying to MIT at thirteen, prepared to go at fourteen. 

At one point in his life, he hated the idea of leaving so soon. He hated being the child in high school, being a foot shorter than everyone and having people hate him for being smart without trying. But after getting used to it, he knew it wouldn't be so bad in college. No one would even notice him.

And he wanted to leave Howard. He didn't want to leave Jarvis and Ana, but he really wanted to leave Howard.

See, at first, Howard was cold and ignorant, the only physical part of their relationship being abusive. If Howard spoke to Tony, the conversation ended with Tony bruised and bleeding, and that was it.

But then, Maria started getting more and more distant from both Stark men, and was out longer, going to different countries for months at a time, leaving Tony feeling somehow more and less alone than he did when she was home. So Howard didn't get any attention at all.

The abuse became more frequent, and more often than not, Tony would go looking through his mom's makeup drawer to find something to cover up the bruises on his face. He was skilled in covering them up around eleven, which he hated. He hated himself more for wanting to be hit, wanting to be given attention whether it was bad or not.

On his twelfth birthday, Maria officially moved out and agreed to pretend to be Howard's wife in public in order for her new life to be funded by him completely. And Tony was all alone.

But then he wasn't.

The night of his twelfth, Tony sat on his bedroom floor crying. He knew his parents' marriage was loveless and purely physical, but he never expected her to leave. Maria left without so much as a goodbye. Tony didn't know about it until Jarvis came in to his room to tell him. 

And then he cried and screamed at Jarvis to leave, when all he really wanted was hug. A hug from his mom. He didn't know anything about where she was, so he couldn't even go see her. He thought about running away from his abusive father to live with her, even if he got even less attention from her.

He would promise to be in the shadows, provide for himself and never bother her as long as he got to stay with her. But of course, he couldn't, because he didn't even know where she lived. He could try break into Howard's office and find out, but he feared the punishment of getting caught.

Besides, he didn't even know if his mom would let him stay. He barely knew her anymore. All they shared was DNA and a last name. He supposed he could say the same about his dad too. 

Howard knocked on his door, and he assumed it was Jarvis or Ana. So he simply shouted with a tear-stained voice for them to go away. What he didn't expect was Howard to come in, calmly rather than aggressively. 

Tony quickly wiped his tears, because Stark men are made of iron. He didn't want to get hit on a night like this for crying. He just wanted some peace, a moment to himself. 

"Tony."

He smelled like alcohol. That was the first thing Tony noticed. The second thing he noticed was Howard's hands completely flat, not balled up, ready to swing. The third thing he noticed was that Howard wasn't angry, his face not wearing his usual expression of disgust, hatred and embarrassment for his son.

It was something else, but Tony only ever saw Howard look at his wife like that on their anniversary.

"Tony..." Howard walked towards Tony, who stood up immediately.

"Sir."

"Your mom has left us." He said sadly. "Did she tell you?"

"No."

"She left. Said she couldn't deal with us, wanted to be free. She had you too early and had married me too soon." Howard explained. "She wants to continue her life and enjoy it instead of being worn down by us."

Tony's heart hurt to hear it was because of him, but it felt better to know that it was because of Howard too. 

"Oh." 

Howard came close to Tony, putting his hand's on the boy's shoulder. Tony flinched immediately, prepared to be hit, and even after realising he wasn't, he was still tense. 

"Why are you so scared of me?" Howard asked like he wasn't aware of what his abuse did to Tony. "You shouldn't be afraid of me. I'm your father. I love you."

Tears welled up in Tony's eyes. He'd never heard his father say I love you to him, not once. Not when he was a child, and not when he was older. Maybe being a teenager was better. No one really wanted a younger child anyway. They were always too high maintenance. 

"You can say it back, son."

"I- I love you too, Howard." 

"I'm your father. Call me dad."

Tony didn't know what was happening, but he liked it. This was positive attention, and Howard wanted him to be his son. He wanted Tony to say I love you, dad. "I love you, dad."

"You're such a good boy." Howard rubbed his son's cheek endearingly. "Always good for me, hm?"

"Y-Yes." 

And then Howard kissed him, kissed Tony, his son. And Tony didn't know what to do. He was being kissed by his dad. This wasn't normal, was it? Parents don't kiss their kids, do they?

Howard pulled away from his still son. "Why didn't you kiss me back?"

"You- you don't- parents don't do that."

"Yes they do, Tony." Howard said like it was common sense. "Parents always do this for their kids. Once you're twelve, once you look more like your mother, you start to love them in different ways. But you don't tell people about it, because it's for family only."

"This is normal?"

"Of course it is."

Howard was manipulating Tony's weak, attention-starved, young mind. He was a genius, yes, but he was also a kid who had been deprived of parenting from his actual parents for so long that this was believable. 

"Kiss me back, son."

"I don't know how."

"I'll teach you, of course. This is how it works, Tony. I teach you how to do things and we show each other our appreciation like this. But who do you tell?"

"No one. It's for family only." 

"Good boy."

That night was the first of many. At first, Tony wasn't really comfortable with his father kissing him and leaving hickeys on his skin, but it became normal eventually. When he was taught how to give a blowjob, it seemed weird, but Howard kept coaxing him into thinking this was what all fathers and sons do.

When Howard first forced Tony down into his bed and slept with him, Tony had tried to convince himself this was normal over and over. He'd learnt about sex multiple times in school, and no one had ever told him you couldn't do it with a parent. All they had taught him was how to stay safe.

He had made sure he was safe. 

It felt weird and painful, the first time, but after doing it over and over and over, it started to feel normal. If Howard hit him, he'd come back into his room at night and make it up to him. To Tony, this was completely normal. 

He hated the way he started to like it.

But this was normal, and all parents did it. So he shouldn't hate himself for liking it, should he?

When Tony got accepted into MIT, Howard had been hesitant. He wanted his son to stay with him, stay at home, but Massachusetts was too far away from Manhattan and he was going to have to move. But he agreed to come home every break or even on the weekends if Howard missed him enough.

He went on the internet when it came out and looked up if it was normal to sleep with your father, and was shocked when he found out it wasn't. He was almost disgusted when he realised he wasn't supposed to, that incest was illegal and frowned upon. 

No wonder his father had told him not to tell anyone.

But he almost wanted to keep going. He didn't want to stop. Because his father, though disgusting for what he was doing, still treated Tony with love and care now. The abuse wasn't as bad anymore, and he made up for it when he did hit Tony.

Tony was too young, too malleable and vulnerable for this. He'd come to believe it was okay and then found out it wasn't and now he had so much going on his little mind that he was overwhelmed and scared. What was he supposed to do now? Was he supposed to just accept it despite it being illegal?

He didn't know what to do. Maybe he'd just say no the next time Howard tried- make excuses, act like it's not all that anymore. Maybe Howard would leave him alone after that

"Tony." Howard stumbled into Tony's room, already shirtless, with a bottle of whiskey in his hands. He usually let Tony drink a bit so it wouldn't hurt, but also because he was afraid his sober mind wouldn't be as easy to manipulate as his drunken one.

"Can we not.. do anything, today?" Tony mumbled. "I'm tired."

"You don't do any of the work. You just have to lie back and-"

"I'm tired, dad." Tony repeated. "I just want to sleep. Alone."

"You looked it up." Howard realised. "I should've never given you the internet."

"You lied to me." Tony spat. "You made me believe this was normal, and not- not illegal. You made me feel like a crazy person trying to figure out whether or not I should- if I should tell you to stop or not."

"So you like this?" Howard had the upper hand and now they both knew it. "Fine. I'll stop. Let's see how long it takes you to come running back to me."

Tony wanted to feel like he won, like this sick game his father played with him was finally over. But a small part of him already missed the attention and wanted it back desperately. No matter what it took.

Tony went a week without getting any attention from Howard. No matter what he did, no matter how many times he did something bad that would normally reward him a beating, Howard completely ignored him. Even if Tony started destroying precious things, Howard just ignored him.

And he was going crazy. 

"So what, just because I found out how sick you were, you won't even hit me?" Tony barged into Howard's office. 

The child in him wondered if this happened when he was younger, would he have liked that the abuse finally stopped? Or would he be just as bad as he was at thirteen?

"Aren't you the sick one for wanting my attention?" The man didn't look up. "You'd do anything to have my attention, whether it's from me hitting you or pounding you into a mattress."

"Because you're my father." Tony felt like crying. "You're supposed to give me attention. You're supposed to love me and take care of me and- and you're all I've got. Mama's gone and other than Jarvis and Ana, I have no one. I- why don't you love me?"

"I loved you when you didn't question what I did."

"Well- well I won't." Tony pleaded. "I won't say anything. You can do whatever to me. Just, please stop ignoring me."

In that moment, both of them knew Howard won.

After that night, their routine went back to normal. Neither Stark required alcohol to continue their routine anymore. Tony finally had his dad's attention back, and he hated himself for it. He hated that he pissed the man off over and over so he could get hit, so Howard would make it up to him that night.

He knew there were so many things wrong with him, but this was the icing on the cake. He let his father hurt him, fuck him, just so he could have his attention. And the hatred he felt wasn't just for himself, but his mom and dad too.

Because if his mom and dad loved each other, loved him too, then he'd have the attention already and wouldn't have to practically whore himself out to get it. If Maria never left, then maybe Howard would never have come into his room that night and took his innocence from him.

But the hatred was mostly for himself, for letting it happen even after Howard stopped. For begging for it to happen after, for doing anything it took to just get that bit of attention from his father. 

He couldn't even tell anyone about it. Because they wouldn't get it. They'd shame him and laugh at him and tell him he was sick, when all he wanted to be loved. 

He wondered if Howard even loved him.

The night before Tony moved to MIT, Howard had given all of his time to Tony. Every meeting was cancelled and even the housemaids were given the day off. The Stark Mansion was empty save for Tony and Howard.

The older man made his son a homecooked meal and watched a movie with him, and Tony wondered if they could've had this without all the abuse in between. But just when he thought that it was finally a little bit normal, Howard had fucked him in every part of the house until Tony passed out. 

And then he was gone the next morning. 

Moving into MIT was stressful, and he had his father's finest movers come to help him. He was so worried about being the child in college, having to deal with grown adults and fit in, try to not make himself a target, that the loss of his father wasn't that big of a deal.

He made a friend, his roommate, Rhodey. He started studying and had a sophisticated workshop and lab that he could work in, and everything was perfectly fine.

But then the stress and the excitement of it all faded away, and he wanted his father back. The desire for attention had come back all over again, and he considered flying home just so he could get attention again. But Howard was off on business and Tony was left alone with his mind-breaking thoughts.

So he started sleeping around. He let his body get passed around by older men, men at least five years older than him. He became the slut of MIT, not that anyone really minded it, and pretended like this was normal, better than letting his father do it to him.

But it didn't change anything. He didn't forget his father, didn't forget the way he ruined him, physically and mentally. He didn't forget any of it. 

So he started drinking as well. He became a regular college boy: drinking, partying, sleeping around. And all of it was numbing him from Howard Stark, but when he least expected it, in the depth of the night, he'd remember and hate himself all over again.

But one night, Rhodey woke up.

"Tony?"

Tony was sitting upright in his bed, staring at the wall with a bottle of alcohol in his hands, contemplating whether or not he should drink again. His tolerance was getting far too high and that only made him question himself more. 

"Rhodey?"

"What's wrong?"

"I just wanted to be loved." Tony said without realising. 

"Mind telling me a bit more?"

He didn't want Rhodey to look at him in disgust. He didn't want all of MIT to find out what Howard and Tony Stark's relationship was really like. He didn't want to watch his father get arrested for what he did.

But he felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders and he wanted it gone. He wanted to feel less heavy.

"What was your father like?"

"He's in the Navy." Rhodey said. "He's never really at home. It's usually just me and my mom."

"Do you resent him for that? Like- like you needed his attention and didn't get it?"

"I do, a bit." He replied honestly. "But I don't and never did need his attention. I always had my mom and good friends, and that was enough for me."

"But if you didn't have your mom?"

"Then maybe I'd wish I had his attention. But I don't."

Tony sighed. At least Rhodey was slightly comforting him a bit. But Rhodey still had his mom and Tony didn't, and it made him hate Maria Stark even more for leaving.

"What's wrong, Tony?"

"I don't want you to hate me." The fourteen-year-old whispered. "I don't want you to be disgusted."

"The grossest thing I've seen you do was throw up after getting roofied, and I'm still here. I'd like to believe I've seen your ups and downs, and I don't think of you any different for it."

"Do you- do you think I'm a slut?"

Rhodey felt his heart break. "No."

"Really?"

"Honestly, I think someone hurt you and you're just trying to replace them by sleeping around. But that doesn't make you a slut, not in my eyes."

"My dad." Tony whispered, like if it was quiet enough it wasn't real. "On my twelfth, when my mom left us, he came into my room and convinced me that- that if I slept with him, it was normal. He was being kind and loving, which he'd never been before, so I let him. I wanted him to love me, not hit me. So I believed him."

"Tony..."

"I knew it was wrong when I got the chance to look it up. I found out it was illegal, and something society would shame me for. So I asked him to stop." Tony didn't want to admit the rest. "And then he started ignoring me. He didn't even hit me. He acted like I didn't exist. So I begged him to keep doing it because I needed his attention. And that's why I- I do what I do now. And I hate myself for it."

Tony didn't realise he wasn't the only one with tears in his eyes.

"I just wanted to be loved." 

He looked over at Rhodey with hurt in his eyes.

"I don't even know if he actually loved me."

"I'm so sorry." Rhodey sat next to Tony. "I'm so sorry your father took advantage of you like that, and that he hurt you. I'm so sorry. You're so young, and- my god, why would someone ever do that to their kid?"

"He told me it was because of how similar I look to my mom." Tony mentioned. "I hate my mom for leaving me. Leaving him. I just keep thinking, would he have stuck to hitting me if she never did?"

"You didn't get any closure, did you?"

"No."

"And it feels worse."

"Yeah."

Rhodey leaned his head on Tony's, wrapping an arm around him. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. I hope you know this doesn't make me think any different of you. I'm not disgusted by you, just your father. He's sick for doing that to you."

"But aren't I sick for wanting him to?"

"No." Rhodey said in a no-arguing-back tone. "He knew you were young and vulnerable and manipulated you. You were abused in so many ways. Howard is the only fucked up one in this scenario."

"I don't know what to do." Tony admitted. "I don't know how to- to fix myself. I feel so fucked up."

"You need someone to take care of you, to treat you like a normal kid and not like a replacement for their wife." Rhodey explained. "I will, if you want. What did your father not do for you that he should've?"

"He never appreciated me." Tony said. "He wouldn't do things like spend time with me, if it wasn't hitting me, or, y'know. He ignored how smart I was, and let the housemaids raise me instead of doing it himself. I think all I wanted was time with him. Hence why I did anything for that time with him."

"I'm with you, then." Rhodey decided. "I'll spend time with you. I'll listen to your science-talk and I'll be with you when you're done building something. And instead of going to parties alone, I'll be there. I'll chaperone you."

"You know, there's a strong chance I become unhealthily attached to you because of this."

"I can live with that." Rhodey smiled. "I'll love you the way your father should've. I'm here for you, Tony."

"It won't fix everything."

"You don't need fixing, Tony. You just need to be loved."

True to his words, Rhodey took care of Tony the way a father should've. It gave Rhodey some closure for not having his own father around, and it helped heal Tony for the way his father treated him.

Tony didn't stop sleeping around, because on some nights, he needed the memory of being pinned down by his father gone. But after, he'd go back to Rhodey, who would hold him and feed him and stay with him until he was asleep.

The partying and drinking was less frequent, but Rhodey was always there.

The dependence started to die down when Tony realised he'd have to spend breaks without him. He hadn't gone home since he'd left, and he didn't plan on doing so. Howard had called him back each break, and he only came back during summer.

When Howard tried to force Tony down, he hit his dad as hard as he could and left. He hid in the garage and waited for his father to eventually sleep. And then he was gone, everything packed, and he moved into the Jarvis'. 

They quit the moment they found out what else Howard did to Tony.

And so, Tony finally got the unconditional love he so desperately craved, from Ana and Jarvis, and when he was back at school, from Rhodey. He met a girl, Pepper, who showed him what romantic love was really like.

When Howard died, Tony mourned, but not for his father. He mourned for his childhood.

And then he burnt the Stark Mansion down to the ground, and made Stark Industries a whole new company. Any sign of Howard Stark was eradicated from the world.

And Tony was better.

He was loved.

Chapter Text

After the Battle of New York, Tony thought he'd never see the Avengers again. If he was being honest, he didn't want to see the Avengers again. That first battle preyed on his inexperienced mind and haunted him, in public, in private and in slumber. He didn't want to see them again because that meant fighting again.

But a part of him felt himself get attached to the Avengers during the fight, maybe because he was about to die and it was an honour fighting with them, and that scared him. Attachment was terrifying, and so was commitment. A lot of things scared him, but attachment was the worst.

Because he couldn't get attached to the Earth's Mightiest Heroes. They were strong, powerful, respected people and Tony Stark was the Merchant of Death. He attracted death like a flowers attracted bees. He killed, and people he cared for died, and there was no way the Avengers could fall into that trap.

But they did. They did, because of Nick Fury, that sly bastard. He decided it would strengthen the bond between the team if they all lived together, in the Stark Tower, which Tony did not agree to. He didn't offer his and Pepper's baby to be for the Avengers, but Fury didn't even ask and before he knew it, the Avengers were moving into the renovated tower.

The Avengers Tower.

Pepper moved back to the Malibu house after that, and Tony sighed and let her. He was going to move back with her, but Fury demanded he stayed. He didn't even know why. Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended. He wasn't even an official Avenger; he was just a consultant.

Fury told him to shut up and dumped a bunch of Avengers in his tower, and then he was gone. The Avengers stood awkwardly and listened to Tony explain where all the guest rooms were. By the next week, they had everything they needed from personal rooms to communal places to hang out. 

And yet, none of them spoke to Tony, except to say a simple thank you. He invited the heroes of the world into his home, and it still felt like he was the only one there.

Bruce Banner was Tony's favourite out of the Avengers. Not because of the Hulk or anything, but because they were science bros, and no one understood Tony's mind like Bruce. Besides, they worked well together, with Bruce mostly quiet and Tony mostly rambling. Their minds worked well together and they made tons of useful things that the rest of the Avengers wouldn't have had a clue on how to make.

Aside from Bruce, Tony didn't have any friends in the tower. Rogers made his dislike for Tony clear, and clearly avoided the man to the best of his abilities. There was something about Tony that rubbed him the wrong way, so the two stayed away from each other.

Romanoff was dangerous. Tony made no move to talk to her in fear that she'd castrate him, or kill him with a spoon or something like that. They had no reason to not be friends, but Tony still strayed. She wasn't very reactive with her facial expressions, but whenever Tony looked at her, it seemed like she wanted to look anywhere else. Like she didn't want to be around him.

Tony didn't blame her. 

Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended. 

Barton was funny and sarcastic, and had a weird obsession with hiding in the vents. But he didn't like Tony. He assumed it was some sort of friendship thing- Romanoff doesn't like him, so Barton doesn't either. Whenever Tony was around, Barton looked at him with distaste, and ever since, he'd kept his distance from him too.

Then there was Thor. Thor was never around, always doing something with Jane or running around in Asgard. But when he came down to Earth, he never approached Tony. JARVIS always told Tony when Thor came over, so he knew that the God was around. That's why it hurt so much when JARVIS had to inform him that Thor was gone, and was gone without a word.

It reminded him of his mother and his childhood far too much. Maria Stark was always home for short amounts of time before running off to enjoy her life, drinking, doing drugs and she was always gone without saying anything. Maria wasn't as bad as Howard. Maria still spoke to Tony and gave him a bit of attention every now and then.

Still, it hurt when she left without saying goodbye, so it hurt when Thor did the same.

So basically, aside from Banner, he had no one in the Tower. He talked to Rhodey when he could, and spoke to Pepper sometimes, but she was more engrossed in her work. He wondered if she'd have more time for him if he didn't dump the role of CEO into her hands. 

Or maybe she didn't want him. That felt like a reasonable explanation.

Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended.

Tony didn't know why, but he couldn't stop thinking about the report Romanoff wrote about him. He didn't care when he read it, but after being isolated whilst surrounded by people, he started having more time to think, and the report was overtaking his thoughts.

Compulsive behaviour.

That was last week. And this week. Every week. He didn't think before doing things, but he had so much going on in his head that he didn't usually have time to think about his actions.

Self-destructive tendencies.

He was dying. But even when he was perfectly fine, he almost died in an attempt to save the world. And he would drink himself to near-death and sometimes not eat until JARVIS had to remind him that he could literally pass out if he didn't. But still, it wasn't that deep. Some people were worse.

Textbook narcissism.

Agreed, but aren't narcissists secretly insecure? Because Tony sure as hell was. Tony pretended like he was completely self-assured and self-confident, but he usually second-guessed everything he did (after he did it, because, compulsivity), worried about people not liking him (if he wanted them to), and had a distorted self-image sometimes.

Sometimes, words hurt like hell. Tony brushed off a lot of criticism, but he took a lot of it to his artificial heart. These words hurt like hell. They weren't even mean or insulting, just true. Tony could accept that they were stating facts, he was self-aware enough for that, but the last bit-

It was the last bit that hurt most.

Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended.

And so, he was simply a consultant. A consultant that easily sacrificed his life for the Avengers, for the world. They didn't want him as a person, they just wanted his money and his suit. His suit that he was going to eventually develop to be remote-controlled. He didn't plan on doing so now, because then they'd really have no reason to keep him on the team.

For a narcissist, he was really fucking insecure. And lonely.

For someone who saved the world, he felt like the world didn't need him. He wasn't welcome anywhere. He wasn't recommended.

And what hurt the most was that Tony could see why.

He didn't know why other people's words started to affect him so much. The Avengers had been at the Tower for a month and he'd barely talked to any of them, save from Bruce. He felt like the world's loneliest creature. And the words from Romanoff's report just wouldn't leave his head.

Iron Man was called for an Avengers battle, and Tony fought hard and did everything he had to. He 'consulted' and helped them take down some psychos attempting to be Loki, who had somehow managed to get Chitauri tech and was blasting down buildings left, right and centre. 

They didn't really need the full team, but Tony flying around and scanning the area, snatching weapons out of the psychos' hands and chucking them to Hulk to smash was still useful. But after the fight, when they were supposed to debrief, Tony simply flew back to the Tower.

Later on, he found them having a movie night together to relax. He realised then that Tony Stark really wasn't recommended. All they needed was Iron Man, and once they were done with him, he wasn't of use. Not even for company.

That was fine, though. Tony wouldn't want to be around himself either.

He didn't realise how much the report affected him until he kinda.. stopped. He stopped making decisions that were rash, even if it meant taking more time for things. He stopped talking and trying to be the centre of attention. People didn't like when he did that. So if he needed to change, he would.

The self-destructiveness was probably impossible to get rid of. He still drank unhealthy amounts. If anything, he started drinking more, a lot more, because alcohol seemed to be the only thing keeping him company. When he wanted to stop feeling like shit and feel on top of the world, he drank.

Which was happening a lot recently.

He was currently drunk, and JARVIS had reminded him to eat, again. He hadn't eaten for three days, cause he was drunk, and food would only make him less drunk. But JARVIS simply told him to go eat so he didn't pass out, and Tony didn't have the energy to fight. 

It was probably dangerous to mess around in the workshop whilst drunk anyway.

So he stumbled downstairs to the communal kitchen, only to find everyone eating dinner. At seven in the evening. 

"Bit early to be drinking, Stark." Rogers said with a hint of disgust.

"You're just mad because alcohol does nothing to you." Tony rolled his eyes and went to find something to eat. He didn't feel very hungry. He would rather keep drinking, but he didn't want to hear JARVIS nag.

He heard voices around him, quiet voices. They didn't want him to hear what he was saying, and he figured that it was because of what he said. He was supposed to stop being like this, so that people would like him. Instead, he was just giving everyone more reasons to hate him.

More reasons to not recommend Tony Stark.

The kitchen started darkening around the edges, and Tony realised he was probably going to pass out, or just get really dizzy. He tried squeezing his eyes shut and trying to focus on just breathing, but it didn't really do much. He felt as faint as he did before.

And the voices were still there. People talking. He heard his name and tried to tune them out, but they were loud as ever. They were quiet, but not quiet enough.

Tony focussed on getting food instead without falling over. The first thing in reach was a protein bar and he went straight for it. He wolfed it down like he hadn't eaten for a year, and when he was done, he made a beeline to get out.

"Did you just nick of one Steve's high-protein granola bars?" Barton stopped him in his tracks.

Oh fuck. He should've just passed out in the workshop. 

"Did I?"

"God, you're so insensitive, Stark. You never think about anyone but yourself, and for crying out loud, you're drunk at seven in the evening. It's pathetic." Rogers spat out. "Textbook narcissist with compulsive behaviour and self-destructive tendencies."

"What'd you just say?" Tony spun around, glad that he didn't feel dizzy. Whatever was in Rogers' protein bar was lush. He'd never felt so rejuvenated in his life.

"You heard me." Rogers folded his arms. "Natasha was right to say that about you in her report."

"And Tony Stark isn't recommended." Tony agreed. "Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended. I get it. You don't need to remind me. I've got photographic memory."

Bruce seemed impressed.

"Go sober up and maybe eat something that isn't specially designed for me."

"I didn't realise." Tony tried to explain. "I- I was- it's the first thing I saw-" 

"Drinking so much you can't even realise that you made that for me. Too drunk to realise it was mine, the only thing here I call mine, and that that was the last one." 

Tony swallowed uncomfortably, guilt rising through him like the bile in his throat. He ran to the sink to throw up. Maybe he couldn't handle so many calories, especially because he'd not been eating regularly.

"Looks like karma to me." Barton laughed.

"You can't handle things made for a super-soldier. You've gone and wasted the last bar that I needed for later." Rogers scoffed. "Selfish. Textbook narcissist."

Tony rinsed his mouth out. "You don't need to keep reminding me."

Rogers began to say something else, but Tony just walked away, the team talking about him as he did. He felt like crying, or throwing up again, or maybe even dying. So the first thing he did was drink till he eventually passed out, and he was okay with that, because passing out meant no nightmares.

Tony stayed far away from the Avengers after that. For the next three months, he completely isolated himself and only spoke to them if he had to during a fight. Otherwise, he kept himself locked up and wallowed in his own pity, rereading the report over and over.

His mental health was rapidly declining in his isolation, specifically because he wasn't talking to Bruce anymore. All he had was JARVIS, and if he didn't have JARVIS, he was sure he would've been dead months ago.

Which didn't sound to bad to him. Death. Death sounded peaceful. No more worrying about himself and other people, and what other people thought of him. No more having to wake up just to spend all say sitting out and feeling like shit, and then drinking to drown those feelings out.

No more nightmares and vivid flashbacks of New York, or Afghanistan, or even his own childhood. No more rereading that stupid fucking report and having it hurt more each time he did. No more feeling like a stranger in his own Tower.

No more anything. He would just be in peace, wherever you go after you die. Or maybe he'd die and that'd be it. Nothing after, just gone. And wouldn't that be peaceful?

But he did have JARVIS, who kept him alive by reminding him to eat, forcing him to eat when Tony just couldn't find the energy to, by making Dum-E, U and Butterfingers prod him until he got up and ate. JARVIS kept him alive by reminding him to shower and sleep and try not to only consume alcohol. 

JARVIS was there for him more than any physical person. Tony thought it was sad. The AI who he created was the only one who cared for him. Tony wondered if he rewrote JARVIS' code, would he still care? 

No. He wouldn't. He only cares because he's programmed to. No one really cares.

Tony had accepted that he was completely unneeded. He didn't want to be around anymore. Nothing seemed worth it. There was no future for him, at least not one where he wasn't moping around, drinking due to his shitty mental state. He saw no point in staying alive.

So he wrote up a will and started working on a remote-controlled Iron Man suit. Only one, because the rest would go to Rhodey, and one to Pepper in case she needed to defend herself.

Designing and creating was a momentary safe space. He felt happy for once, and excited to make something. But then he remembered what he was making and why he was making it, and he just felt completely fucking hopeless, unnecessary and unwanted. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. 

Tony Stark was giving up.

But at least there'd be Iron Man. Because unlike Tony, Iron Man was recommended. People loved Iron Man, wanted Iron Man, and appreciated Iron Man.

Tony Stark was awful and good for nothing.

At least now, no one would have to think of him. He'd be gone. And the world would have Iron Man. Which was fine. Iron Man, yes.

Tony Stark, not recommended.

The will had been drawn up, signed and ready to be sent to those whom it concerned. His remote-controlled suit was ready for use; he'd tested it out and proved it to be safe and resourceful. 

He made a protocol for JARVIS to not tell anyone about what he was going to do, and also designed a less-powerful mini-JARVIS to assist the Avengers in their fights. The AI itself was left to Rhodey in case of emergency.

Most of his money was left to Pepper and Rhodey, and a small amount was left for the Avengers. If they needed it, they could spend it. The Tower was Pepper's. At least now she could have one hundred percent of it.

There was a separate compound designed for the Avengers to move to since the Tower was going to Pepper's. If they wanted to stay, and had permission to, then they didn't have to move. The compound was theirs regardless.

Dum-E, U and Butterfingers would go off with JARVIS to Rhodey.  Everything was sorted. He didn't really have anything else that he thought would have to be given away. Everything else was fine.

He was ready to die.

So he sat on the top of the tower, legs dangling off of the rooftop with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He'd drunk about half of it already, despite his initial plan to die with a clear mind. 

The overwhelming thoughts had returned, so he got drunk and prepared himself for the peaceful end of his life. He'd done the calculations and knew that a fall from this height would kill him. There was no way this wouldn't end with him dead on the ground.

His heart was already sensitive due to the arc reactor, so all he had to do was take out the arc reactor and hope his weak heart would fail before he hit the ground. If not, he could take the pain of falling. It would only last a few seconds before he faded away and died. 

So, he finished the bottle of Jack Daniels and took out the arc reactor, ignoring the memories of Stane trying to resurface. This was his choice. No need to get all panicky over something he chose to do. He was in control here. He wasn't paralysed.

He jumped.

"Sir is in imminent danger and requires your assistant."

The five Avengers looked up from the sofa, wondering why JARVIS interrupted their movie night. 

"What, Stark? I'm sure he's fine." Steve said simply.

"He is on the roof. I cannot be of any more assistance than I am now."

"Is this him being compulsive and self-destructive?"

"Captain Rogers, if you do not go help Sir, I have the authority to ban all of you from here and send you back to the streets. And when news that Tony Stark is dead and no one helped him, I'll be sure to show footage of you five not trying to help at all."

"This is probably just him seeking attention." Clint stood up. "But fine, I'll go see what's going on. I like rooftops anyway. Good vantage points."

"I, too, shall check on the Man of Iron." Thor marched towards the door with long strides, taking the fast elevator to the roof with Clint next to him.

They were relieved slightly when they saw Tony sitting on the roof, perfectly still and not dead. Clint decided Thor could just pick him up and put him inside and then they could go back to watching the movie.

But then Tony held onto something silver and put it in front of him, and the two couldn't see what he had done, but could guess when they saw the silver put down with a blue light attached to it. It was the arc reactor. Tony had taken the arc reactor out.

He wasn't in imminent danger from anyone but himself. He was going to hurt himself. He was going to jump off of the roof without the arc reactor in, meaning if the fall didn't kill him, his reactorless heart probably would. Or at least Clint thought so, because he didn't know much about the reactor. All he knew was that it was keeping him alive, and someone almost killed him by taking it out.

SHIELD reports weren't very extensive.

"Thor- grab him." Clint ordered quickly when he saw Tony stand up. It was clear that the man was about to jump, and Clint couldn't have that on his conscience.

Also because Tony was a person with feelings, and clearly those feelings had become bad enough for him to want to die. All that time they had spent ignoring his existence- Tony had been suffering for far too long. Clint had to help.

He couldn't let Tony die. Not like his brother.

Thor listened and ran to get Tony, but he'd already jumped. Thor jumped too, without even thinking about it, and called for Mjolnir, which was in his hand immediately, weighing him down enough to overtake and catch Tony.

Then he shot himself back up the rooftop and felt Tony hyperventilate in his arms. Clint had ran to use the silver thing to put the arc reactor back into the man's chest, and even so, he hyperventilated. 

"Why did you do that?"

"What?" 

"We saved you, Man of Iron." 

"Stop calling me that." Tony spat out. "I know you guys only care about Iron Man, but I had- I made sure you'd still have him after- after- why did you stop me?" 

"Because suicide isn't the answer." 

"Oh be quiet with that bullshit." Tony didn't want to hear it. "Suicide isn't that big of a deal. It wouldn't matter if I died. You guys don't pay attention to me now, and you wouldn't if I was dead. So fuck off and let me jump. I'm not important." 

"You are important, Tony." Clint sat on the floor with Tony. "You are so important. Your life is worth living. I'm sorry we haven't paid attention to you."

"Shut up." Tony yelled. "Shut up. Stop pretending to care because you saw me fling myself off a building. If you didn't watch it, you wouldn't care. Let me fucking die."

"Tony-"

"No. Let me fucking die. I don't want to be here anymore." Tony felt tears pool up in his eyes, and he frantically wiped them away. "I don't want to be here anymore. I want to fucking die, so fuck off so I can."

"Tony-"

"I want to die." He whispered quietly. "I can't stand being alive anymore."

"Tell me why." 

"Because- because- I'm fucking useless. No one needs me for anything. My existence doesn't matter. I isolated myself for three months and no one cared. Not even Rhodey or Pepper. I'm a ghost and I'm not even dead yet. Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended. I have no reason to be here. No one wants me here. If I died, no one would care. It wouldn't change anything. Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended."

Natasha stood at the doorway of the rooftop with a heavy heart and unwilling tears in her eyes. She didn't realise that her report would affect Tony so much. Steve stood beside her with the same guilt, because he quoted the report to insult Tony.

How did they not see how much pain he was in, even before he started avoiding them completely?

Slowly, the redhead walked towards the distraught genius and sat on the floor with him. "I'm sorry." 

Tony looked up in shock, because he never expected to hear an apology from Natasha Romanoff of all people. He didn't expect an apology at all. He just wanted to die.

"I'm sorry for writing that report. I didn't write it with harmful intent, and didn't expect it to hurt you so much. I should've taken more time to write it and find out more about you as a person, because I was wrong. I didn't study you enough to find out who you really are. There is more to you than what I wrote. I take it back, Tony. Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, recommended."

"You don't mean that."

"I do, Tony." Natasha wiped his tears away gently. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. Give me the chance to rewrite a report on you that is accurate. Where I can figure out who you really are. I don't care about Iron Man. I care about Tony Stark. Will you let me find out who you are?"

"There's nothing you can find out that you didn't already write. Mr Stark displays compulsive behaviour, prone to self-destructive tendencies, a textbook narcissist. Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended." Tony read the report out like it was the alphabet. "Everything you wrote was accurate."

"No, it is not." She said softly. "You may be all of those things, but Iron Man is not all you're needed for. We need you, Tony Stark. The world does. The Avengers do. Rhodes and Potts need you. I do too."

"Why can't I be selfish?" Tony asked. "Why can't I die regardless?"

"Because you'll never get to prove me wrong." 

Tony, despite being highly emotional and still very suicidal, laughed. And Natasha was glad to hear that. She needed to make sure he kept laughing, rather than return to the rooftop and jump again. If she had to watch his every move, she would.

She hurt him. He was her responsibility. She would make sure Tony Stark stays alive, so she can recommend him.

"Can we go inside now?"

"Alright, Tony." Natasha smiled. "You okay to walk or shall we get Point Break to carry you?"

Tony smiled back when she remembered his nickname. He didn't like that it took a suicide attempt to get him to this point, but it was something. He knew, deep down, that he probably could've just talked to them and proved the report wrong, but he was blinded by hurt and didn't think clearly.

He hadn't thought clearly for a while, not until he decided to try to kill himself. But maybe surviving, being saved, would be a good thing.

And if it ever got worse again, if things didn't get better, then he could try again, and quicker this time. And make sure JARVIS didn't snake on him. He had no idea how the AI had bypassed his protocol, but it was fine, there were more he could make.

"How can we help you?"

"Just be there."

The pain Tony had felt for months didn't just go away overnight because the team decided to pay attention to him. It took months more for him to start feeling better, along with therapy and medication. He still had his bad days, but on those, he had the whole team to be there, hug him and include him in movie nights and baking and cooking and team dinners.

They forced Tony to make a protocol for JARVIS to let the team know when he felt like shit again, and showed any sign of wanting to do something drastic. He was reluctant, but when he realised they only did it because they cared, he felt better and made it on his own accord.

It took a long time to convince himself he was worthy as a person, not just a hero. It took a long time to convince himself that the team wanted him, cared for him, and that he wasn't useless, unwanted, unlovable. 

Eventually, the Tower and the Avengers became home.

One night, when he was feeling particularly low, Natasha came in and gave him a form, saying he was officially an Avenger, if he wanted to be. And he cried in her arms and thanked her, and she simply held him and smiled as he signed it.

"You will never be wanted for just a suit, Tony. I promise you that." She whispered. "Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, highly recommended."

Chapter Text

Taking away Peter's suit was Tony's biggest regret. Well, he had infinite regrets, but at the time, this was the one he focussed on the most. The child ran into a fight with a onesie to help Tony despite the fact that he took the kid's suit away. If that didn't rid him with guilt, he didn't know what did.

He shouted at Peter. Well, maybe he didn't shout at Peter, but he dismissed the kid when he was right about something important, and then took away the kid's outlet. He was just like his fucking dad. He knew he sounded like his dad at the time, but fuck, he didn't realise he was just like the older Stark.

And he scared the kid. He scared the kid when he stepped out of the suit, because Peter stepped back and continued stepping back when Tony approached. He scared Peter and then shouted at him. Tony fucking hated that. He felt just like his fucking dad.

Tony Stark never wanted kids because he was afraid of turning out just like his dad. And now he was responsible for a crime-fighting spider and he was doing a really shitty job at taking care of him. 

It made sense that Aunt Hottie hated him. 

He wouldn't be surprised if Peter hated him too.

"What are you sulking about?" Pepper asked Tony, who was sitting in his workshop, staring at a random piece of metal. He was supposed to be upgrading the suit.

He was not.

"Do you want kids?"

Pepper was taken aback. "Sorry?"

"I- not right now, and not with me, I guess- I just- do you want them, in the near future?"

She shrugged. "It's not my biggest priority in life, but if I ended up pregnant, I think I'd keep it. Why? Are you implying you want to have a kid with me?"

"I don't want kids." Tony replied honestly. "I've never thought I'd be capable of taking care of one. And my dad was a piece of shit, so I don't think I'd ever be able to have my own without ending up like him. I fucked up a kid that wasn't even mine."

"What- Peter?"

He nodded.

"What'd you do?"

"He got in a bit of trouble. Something I didn't think he could handle. And I took away his suit when he made a bit of a mess, and you know what he did?" Tony looked up at Pepper. "He used his own suit- barely a suit, if you ask me- and he stopped someone from robbing my plane. He took down the guy I thought he couldn't handle. He did it all alone, because I neglected to take care of him. What kind of mentor am I?"

The words were left unsaid, but both of them heard what he meant.

What kind of father would I be?

"Tony, you're overthinking this. I'm sure Peter isn't mad because you tried to be a responsible adult. Honestly, I think you should let his aunt do the parenting and just try to make a bond with him. You guys are both smart, right? Work with him. Give him a proper internship."

"What if something goes wrong?" What if I hurt him?

"It won't." You won't.

"Okay. I'll try." Tony sighed. "Will- will you be around when I'm with him? Just to make sure nothing goes wrong?"

Just to make sure I don't hurt him.

"Of course."

Howard Stark was a perfect man to the press. He was charming and a sight for sore eyes. He had every girl and woman in the country fawning for him, and even after he settled down with Maria Stark nee Carbonell, he still had people obsessing over him.

But at home, he was cold, distant, and a drunk. He barely talked to Maria after Tony was born. Even after Tony was proved to be a child genius, he ignored his son and spent all his time drinking and working.

That was one reason why Tony thought he was like his dad. He worked and drank often, too often. He couldn't figure out how to stop, how to not be like his dad in that way.

Howard Stark was violent. Abusive. He started showing the violent side of himself when he was wasted, never touching his beloved wife (because even if he ignored her, he still loved her somehow), instead throwing an empty bottle at his six-year-old son and demanding a new one.

Tony barely dodged the bottle, and was forced to clean up the shards that the bottle left behind. If he cried in Jarvis' arms as the butler cleaned his hands up, Howard didn't notice, and nor did he care.

Eventually, the abusive side of Howard showed up as he was sober. Tony was a bright child, trying to gain validation and approval from his father as every other kid would, but was given shoves, slaps and punches instead. Despite this, Tony still tried.

And soon enough, he learnt to just stay out of Howard's way. Even though it was mostly proved futile. No matter what, Howard would find a way to punish Tony even when the kid did nothing wrong. 

Tony grew up afraid of his dad, unloved and uncared for by both of his parents, because eventually Maria stopped trying to love her son and chose to love intoxicants instead. His only refuge was inventing, working, creating and being with Jarvis.

Then Jarvis died. 

His parents died too.

Tony found himself turning into the man he'd rather die than become. He never wanted kids, just in case he really became like Howard Stark.

Peter, the boy with a heart of gold and enough parent issues to deal with for the rest of his life, accepted Pepper's offer to start working as a paid intern for Tony himself. He was incredibly excited to work with his idol, even if his idol took his suit away.

He denied the money, but Pepper was stubborn and set up a bank account for Peter, sending five-hundred dollars to the bank account weekly. She would've put one thousand but Peter genuinely couldn't accept it and tried to negotiate for ten dollars. Pepper was more skilled in negotiating and won at five hundred.

But Peter wasn't doing it for the money anyway, and both of them knew that. He was taken from Midtown to Stark Industries after school on Friday, and was incredibly excited. He couldn't wait to work in a professional lab with his idol. 

Especially because his idol wasn't mad at him for being incompetent anymore.

Tony was hesitant the moment Peter walked in, Pepper in front of him, directing him on where to go and explaining the basics of FRIDAY and where to go if a fire went off, etc. She could see the stress her fiance was going through and gave him a kiss before working at the back of the lab.

That settled Tony's nerves a bit.

"So, Underoos, how have you been?"

"I'm good. The new suit you left me is awesome." Peter grinned.

"Do you have it with you? I thought we could work on it together and make some updates, get you to understand how it works so that you could eventually do this alone."

"Do you not want to work on it with me?"

Tony wanted to kick himself. "No, I just mean, if I'm not here for some reason, if you needed to fix something, you'd be able to do it yourself."

"Oh okay." Peter got the suit out of his backpack. 

Pepper watched as the two worked on the suit together. Tony and Peter were getting along just fine, without any problems. Tony would reach out and ruffle Peter's hair, and sometimes Peter would elbow Tony after the man made a joke about his aunt and profusely apologise when he'd remember he had super strength.

And of course, Tony would say it's okay and not hold a grudge over it, even if the kid's elbow bruised his skin for the next week. 

They got along perfectly fine. Pepper could see how much Tony cared for Peter, despite all his worries. She knew she wouldn't have to monitor them after the first session. 

Tony wouldn't hurt Peter.

Tony almost hurt Peter.

It was a complete accident. He was having a really bad day- nightmares of his father at his worst, flashbacks of the abuse during the day and spontaneous panic attacks. He was on his second panic attack when Peter came into the lab.

It had been nearly half a year since the two geniuses started bonding in the labs and the workshops, learning and teaching each other countless things. Instead of just working on Fridays, the two started working on Wednesdays and Sundays too. Peter saw Tony as a father figure, and Tony saw Peter as his son.

But Tony forgot Peter was coming over for lab day, and was in the middle of fixing up the Iron Man suit when, out of nowhere, his breathing got short and he felt like he was dying. It felt like being in the wormhole again, or having open-heart surgery in a cave. It felt like Thor choking him after making Ultron.

And he was on the floor, hands in his hair, knees pressed to his chest, hiding his face in between his knees as he tried to breathe. But he couldn't, because all he could think about was his stupid dad, and instead of Thor choking him, it was his dad. His dad was holding him up at ten years old, choking the life out of him until he nearly passed out.

It was a memory he didn't even know he had. 

The panic attack felt like it had lasted forever, when really, it'd only been ten minutes. Ten minutes when Peter walked in, holding the straps of his backpack, ready to work with his father figure, when he saw said man on the floor having a panic attack.

Peter was no stranger to those, and knew exactly how to deal with them personally. It was different trying to help someone else, though, because his words fell on deaf ears. Tony couldn't hear the teen.

So, Peter sat down next to his mentor and tried to reach out to take Tony's hand, take it and place it above his heart so Tony could copy the kid's breathing. Usually it worked when Ned tried that with him.

This didn't work. Tony flinched, thinking it was his dad and swung his fist at Peter, who only avoided it due to his Peter Tingle. 

This helped Tony snap out of it a little bit, though, and he looked up to see Peter holding his arm back in shock, in fear. He realised where he was, what he was doing, and just stared at Peter. He almost hurt the kid.

He was just like his dad.

The billionaire stood up abruptly, snatching his hand back and ran out of the lab to go somewhere else, anywhere else. He ended up in his bedroom, and demanded a lockdown. FRIDAY unwillingly did so, protesting and telling Tony he should go talk to someone instead of isolate himself.

He then muted FRIDAY.

Pepper found Tony passed out with a bottle of whiskey in his hands and her heart broke. Peter had sought Pepper out and told her what happened, and after comforting the teen, she ran to find her fiance.

Seeing the bottle in his hands made her all the more heartbroken, because she knew how afraid Tony was of hurting Peter, and how Tony was trying his best not to drink because he was terrified of ending up like his dad. She knew this must've made him feel exactly like Howard.

Pepper wasn't entirely aware of what Howard Stark was like, but she picked up a lot of things in the time she knew her fiance. She knew Howard had been abusive in some way, definitely emotionally and verbally, potentially physically. She also knew Howard was a drunk, which the public didn't know.

She only knew that because Tony sobbed in her arms once, also drunk, and talked about how he felt like his stupid alcoholic father. She tried to convince him he wasn't, but the words went through one ear and came straight out of the other.

Sighing, she picked up the genius and hauled him into bed, taking the bottle away, and making sure he was on his side with a bin next to him in case he vomited. His sobriety was going so well; clearly almost hurting Peter was a big deal.

It wasn't your fault.

For Tony, it felt like it was.

For the next month, Tony refused to see Peter in fear of hurting the kid again. He didn't take away Peter's internship, though. He let the high-schooler work with all the college interns instead. It wouldn't be fair if he almost hurt the boy and then took away part of his furthering education too.

Tony thought he was doing Peter a favour, even after Peter sat outside the lab that FRIDAY restricted him access from, trying to convince Tony he wasn't a bad person for almost hurting him. Tony put music up as loud as he could because it hurt to hear anything the teen said.

He thought he was doing a good thing by isolating himself from Peter and almost everyone else. He just wanted to make sure he never hurt anyone again, but he didn't realise the distance hurt Peter too.

Eventually, Peter managed to get into the lab. Pepper overrode the lockdown after Peter almost cried in her arms saying he wanted to see Tony. Pepper could tell Tony's defence mechanism was only defending himself, even though Tony couldn't tell. She knew that she had to intervene.

So she did.

Now, here was Tony, stood like a deer in headlights, not knowing how to respond to seeing Peter back in his lab. Pepper smiled and then left, letting the door close behind her. She made sure FRIDAY wouldn't let them out until they sorted things out.

"Hi Mr Stark."

Tony stayed silent, taking the wrench out of his hand and stepping away from anything that could hurt Peter. He held his hands together behind his back to make sure he didn't hurt Peter.

It broke Peter's heart.

"I'm not afraid of you." He stepped forward, and Tony stepped back. It reminded the billionaire of when the teenager stepped away from him after the ferry incident.

"You were then. You- you looked terrified-"

"Because you were hurt and I didn't know what to do. I wasn't afraid of you. I was afraid for you."

Tony didn't respond. How could he? If Peter was telling the truth, then Tony was still an idiot because he pushed away the teenager for no reason. But also because he made Peter feel scared because Tony didn't know how to get his shit together.

He couldn't be a parent like that.

"I know you've had a tricky relationship with your dad. He probably had a bad relationship with his own dad." Peter stepped forward again. "And you don't have kids because you're afraid of getting trapped in that chain. But I see you like a dad, and Pepper says you see me like a son, and you haven't hurt me. Do you understand that? You're breaking the cycle."

Tony knew Howard Stark Jr was abused by Howard Stark Sr, and that was another reason why he was terrified of being a parent. How Peter understood that, he wasn't sure. In fact, though Tony screamed daddy issues, there was no evidence of him being a child of abuse of any sorts.

He didn't know how the teenager figured it out, but it scared him.

"I'm what?"

"Breaking the cycle." Peter repeated. "You're breaking the cycle. I trust you, Mr Stark. I trust you with my life. You've done nothing but care for me. Even May understands that now."

"I- I'm not breaking the cycle. I almost hit you. If you weren't enhanced-"

"But I am." Peter said simply. "I am enhanced. I stopped you. And even if you did, it wouldn't have been your fault. You were having a panic attack, and you didn't know it was me. It was brash of me to try and touch you when you weren't aware."

"That's not your fault."

"Then it isn't yours either." Peter dropped a small stack of papers on the desk and stepped back, knowing Tony didn't like to be handed things. "I trust you with my life, Mr Stark. May and Pepper do too."

"No." 

"No?"

"I want you to give it to me."

Peter smiled, and he couldn't stop smiling as he picked the stack up and handed it to Tony. The man read the papers and immediately starting crying.

"Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong? You don't have to-"

"I love you, kid." Tony hugged the boy, grateful when Peter didn't flinch back.

"We're not there yet."

Now they were.

"I love you too Mr Stark. Will you sign it?"

"Of course I will." Tony grinned. "Co-parenting with May Parker. Legal guardianship of Peter Parker. I thought being your emergency guardian was a big deal but- this, I, kid I love you."

Tony wiped his tears and scrambled to find a pen. He didn't need to read any of it. He was okay with being the kid's guardian even if it meant signing away SI or something like that. He simply signed everything he had to and returned it to Peter.

"Does this mean you're going to stop calling me Mr Stark?"

"No."

"Why not? You call Pepper by her first name. Why am I Mr Stark and not Tony?"

"How about dad?"

Tony grinned, tears falling out of his eyes again. "You don't have to call me that."

"I want to."

Tony engulfed the boy in a hug again. He vowed to never hurt the boy again, and vowed to never drink around him. He was going to be sober and stable and do better. He wasn't going to be like Howard Stark.

Tony Stark was breaking the cycle.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark did not have a good relationship with his father. Howard Stark was a workaholic and an alcoholic, and he was emotionally absent. He didn't hit Tony, but when he was in a mood and Tony was nearby, Tony would be the poor soul that had to tolerate Howard's screaming.

So naturally, Tony would latch onto any other person in his life as a father figure. For example, Obadiah. Tony loved Obie, because Obie always tried to see the best in him. Whether it was to convince Howard to pay attention to Tony's intelligence, or to personally notice Tony's intelligence and appreciate it. 

Jarvis was another father figure in Tony's life. Tony would always love Jarvis the most, and Jarvis was his go-to for everything. If Tony needed help in the workshop, Jarvis was there. If he'd forgotten to eat, Jarvis would remember and come by with a meal. The only reason Tony didn't want to go to college was because he'd miss Jarvis.

And Jarvis was the only reason he came back during the holidays. It was nice to see Obie every now and then, and sometimes, if his mom was sober, it was nice to see her too. But his main focus was Jarvis and Ana. They were always the most paternal and maternal people in his life.

Which was sad, in a way. Tony always resented his father never showing him love.

At fifteen years old, Tony was aging well. He'd long since grown out of his baby face, his new, light stubble making him look older than he was. He also had an impressive physique, simply because he spent a lot of time doing hands-on engineering in the MIT workshop. 

Even though he was significantly younger than everyone there, he was not unattractive. Girls had come up to him on several occasions, asking if Tony wanted to go off with them to places he definitely shouldn't. It was always a shock to them when they found out Tony was underage. 

Even guys came up to Tony, which was incredibly flattering, but he always said no. He was underage, and he knew what a scandal it'd be if he was caught sleeping around with people who were, quite literally, criminally older than him. Howard would kill Tony if he ruined SI's reputation.

So Tony stuck to drinking and getting high, partying, but never sleeping around. Drinking would be an easier thing to dismiss- he was at college after all. And he always had Rhodey, his best friend in the whole world, to be by his side if something went wrong.

This one time, Rhodey wasn't there, and that was when things went wrong.

Everyone knew that Rhodey was essentially Tony's bodyguard. Rhodey was prepared to be part of the military, and he had the physique to match that. He wasn't extremely muscly, but he had the strength regardless, and he'd watched out and physically protected Tony before. So people knew better than to try things if Rhodey was with Tony.

Then, one night, Rhodey was busy and Tony was bored. His friend from study hall, Tracy, was having a party and had invited Tony already. Tony had assured Rhodey that he'd be fine, that it was one night alone, that he knew self-defence, and Rhodey had eventually given in.

If only he hadn't.

Because it ended up with Tony's drink getting laced with Rohypnol, a date rape drug, and though Tony could hardly remember what happened, he could feel it. And he could see it.

Someone had raped him, left him drugged and unconscious in a random bed at the party, hadn't even bothered to use protection or prepare him enough to not make him bleed, and had disappeared without Tony being able to remember who did it. 

And he felt like shit.

Tony woke up with a hangover, found himself naked, and his entire world collapsed.

Rhodey was the first person to realise what had happened. Tony didn't tell him anything, but his limp gave it away. Tony tried to pretend he just got hurt, but then he threw up and cried in his best friend's arms, and that was how Rhodey realised.

Because Tony Stark did not cry, at least not in public. It was a rule, a motto, a family thing- Stark men are made of iron, and Stark men do not cry. But Tony was- he was crying uncontrollably, and he couldn't sit down without it hurting.

"Tony, I need you to answer me honestly." Rhodey said. "Did someone hurt you at the party?"

Tony nodded.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"No."

"You were gone all night. Can you explain to me whatever you can remember?"

"I was drinking, and then things got fuzzy. I was talking to Tracy, but then there was this guy- and then things were really fuzzy, and I don't remember anything after. I woke up in a bed and-" he couldn't finish his sentence.

"Were you alone?"

"Yeah."

"And you weren't dressed?"

"Yeah."

Rhodey swore under his breath and held Tony tighter. It was good that Tony was still comfortable enough with Rhodey to not try to run away from physical contact. But it wasn't good that someone had raped his best friend, and Tony didn't even remember who it was. 

"I don't know if it's better or worse that I don't remember." Tony admitted. "Because- if I remembered, I could report it. But then I'd have actual memories of what he'd done."

"It's okay." Rhodey whispered. "It's okay. I'm never leaving you alone again. I'll be damned if someone tries to hurt you again."

A few weeks later, Tony went home for winter break. He didn't want to go home, but it was safer there than it was at MIT. At least he wouldn't have to walk around, wondering if people knew what happened, wondering if that random man next to him was the man who raped him. 

It was hell, not knowing. 

He wanted to see Jarvis, too, so of course, he came home. 

"Welcome home, young sir." Jarvis had given Tony a hug, and though he was terrified of being touched, Jarvis was safe. Jarvis was always safe.

He didn't seem it necessary to tell the man what happened, though. Jarvis wouldn't be able to do anything. And Tony didn't want a pity party.

So, he laughed and pretended and acted like nothing happened at all. He was safe, at home, with the two people he loved most in the world. And no one had to know.

Obadiah had to know. 

Tony realised after a few days of relentless nightmares and phantom touches, that he had people who were powerful and had the ability to find out what happened. If Tony could just remember the names of the people he saw at the party, then he could figure it out.

So he did. He spent a whole day going through social media, writing down every single name he remembered, finding names to faces he thought he recognised. He saw two names that seemed familiar, and he knew this was enough to get Obadiah on his side.

He would find out who hurt him and get them at least kicked out from MIT. And then, maybe Tony could finally sleep peacefully at night without worrying someone might hurt him again.

"Obie?"

"Yes, my boy?" 

Tony ignored the overwhelming anxiety and put down a piece of paper onto the desk. 

"What is this?"

"I need your help, um, finding someone."

"Why?" Obadiah sat down, signalling to Tony to do the same.

"Well, er, a couple weeks ago, um, at a party, I- my drink was spiked." Tony began, his hands becoming unbelievably sweaty. "And- erm, someone, er- did something to me, um, and-"

"Enough with the mumbling, Tony. If you want me to understand, you're going to have to be straightforward with it." 

"Someone raped me." Tony said quickly. He felt sick, admitting it out loud. This was the first time he'd actually said it how it was - that he'd been raped. "I don't remember who it was because they drugged me, but I know it happened."

"How?"

Tony felt beyond ashamed, but he had to say it. "They didn't use protection..?"

Obadiah was quiet for a moment. "A man, you say, did this?"

"Yeah."

"Nonsense." He said simply. "A man cannot rape another man. Only women can be raped. Whatever happened to you wasn't rape. And you can't go telling people this- it'll be bad for the company."

"What?" 

"We can't have people knowing the heir to Stark Industries is gay."

"I'm not gay." Tony said defensively. 

"Well, you might not think you are, but if you had sexual relations with a man and want to publicise it, it's going to look like you are." Obadiah smiled. "So you shouldn't talk about this. Unless you want the company's reputation ruined."

"But-" Tony didn't know what to say. "I didn't want it."

"Nonsense. Of course you did. You just don't remember wanting it." Obie stood up. "Now, off you pop. I have work to do."

Tony felt defeated. He didn't know what to do now- Obadiah didn't believe that he was raped, and he didn't want Tony talking about it. It was so hard admitting what happened, and Obie, someone he considered family, had dismissed it like it was nothing.

Jarvis asked him what was wrong when Tony left Obie's study, but Tony just shook his head and went to his room.

He shouldn't have bothered trying.

Tony was absolutely terrified of going back to MIT, now that he knew he was completely helpless. There was no way he could get his rapist kicked out of MIT if he had no support from anyone. Not anyone that could do something about it.

He knew he could probably ask around if anyone saw him go off with a man at the party, but then rumours would spread around, and exactly what Obadiah said would happen, would happen. People would think Tony was gay, and also that he was now available. And he didn't want that at all.

There was one day left before he'd have to go back, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Of course, he couldn't wait to see Rhodey, but he was still terrified. Whoever raped him was walking around freely knowing what they did, knowing Tony didn't know who it was. His nightmares weren't getting better, and he could still feel someone touching him.

He hated that he felt touches, but couldn't remember actually being touched. In his dreams, he saw blond hair before his face was pushed down into a pillow, and then his vision was unreliable. He didn't know if his dreams were just dreams, or if they were real memories of the night.

In his dreams, he felt hands on his hips, squeezing tight enough to leave bruises. He felt the pain and heard the deep voice taunting him, taunting the way he wasn't so high and mighty now that he was pressed down into a mattress. The voice mocked him for not being able to fight back, for being so pliant and easy.

He didn't know if the words were real, but the bruising hands were. He woke up with red skin on his hips that led to deep, purple bruises by the end of the day. 

The bruises took a while to fade away, and the pain down there took a while longer to finally disappear, but the few parts of the night that Tony could remember stayed, and the fear, the shame, the anxiety- that stayed as well. And he hated that it did.

He wanted to just forget.

He decided that he'd forget by drowning his sorrows in the open bar at the gala he was being dragged to. His plan quickly changed when he remembered that alcohol was what led to him waking up naked in a random bed.

Tony tried his best to not let his anxiety get the best of him at the gala, but it was proved futile.

Tony was trying to go to the bathroom. He had a few too many diet cokes- because he was actively trying not to drink, and because Howard and Obie would kill him if he made a fool of himself in public due to alcohol. And it wasn't a good look for a fifteen-year-old to be drinking.

And then he heard a voice that he'd heard over and over and over again in his nightmares. The same voice that taunted him, called him weak, called him pathetic. The same voice that moaned in his ear, telling Tony how perfect his body felt. 

Tony felt his heart skip a beat, his stomach turning over, and he walked faster. If he could make it back to the hall, where everyone was, then he'd be safe. He'd be safe and no one would be able to touch him, no one would be able to hurt him.

He wasn't fast enough.

"Hi, Tony."

Whoever the voice belonged to had held tightly onto his wrist, pushing him into the nearest wall. Tony's face was pressed into the wall, and it felt like a terrifying parallel to that night, where his face was pressed into a pillow. He couldn't see, and hands were on his skin, and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Fuck off." 

"I forgot you were capable of talking." The voice said cockily. "I preferred when you were quiet, limp and pliant in my arms. You were so tight and felt perfect around me."

"Get off of me." Tony tried to shove the man back with his shoulders, but he was just as weak now as he was then.

"You're so cute, Tony." The man flipped him around, and Tony saw who he was. "I don't know if you know me, but-"

"Stone." Tony did know him. "Tiberius Stone. Fucking useless heir to Viastone." 

"Shut up." Tiberius gripped Tony's wrist tighter. "You can't be talking. You're fucking useless. Couldn't do shit when I fu-"

"Don't." Tony felt sick. "Don't."

"Poor little Tony." The blond pouted mockingly. "So afraid. Of me?"

"Fuck off."

"You are afraid of me." Stone laughed. "Why? Because I showed you a good time?" 

"You did not show me a good time." Tony spat. "You drugged me and raped me, and you didn't even bother being gentle. You made me fucking bleed."

"I wouldn't have drugged you if you just let me." Tiberius said like it was nothing. "It's not my fault your stupid friend is so protective of you. If you didn't want to bleed, you should've just been available."

"I- what?" Tony almost laughed. "I'm fifteen. I'm a child. I'm not even the legal age to consent. If I let you, it'd still be statutory rape. I know my rights."

"You aren't the legal age to drink, though, are you?" He smiled. "And yet you still drank. Seems like all this could've been avoided if you didn't drink. It's your fault."

"It's not-" Tony felt like he couldn't breathe. It was his fault, wasn't it? He went and drank and Rhodey wasn't there. He shouldn't have been drinking. If he didn't, Tiberius wouldn't have been able to roofie him, and then he wouldn't have been raped. 

"You see it now, don't you?" Tiberius kissed Tony's cheek. "It's all your fault."

"Don't- don't do that." His skin felt papery. "I'm not drunk. I haven't drunk anything. You can't- if you do something to me now, then it's your fault."

"But you want this?" Tiberius said. "You want this. You wouldn't have come here by yourself, knowing I was following you."

"I didn't know you were following me."

"Just stay still, let me show you a good time. I won't hurt you this time."

"I don't-" Tony tried to push Tiberius off, but the man was stronger. "I don't want this. It's still- you can't."

Tiberius put a hand over Tony's mouth, pushing Tony's head back into the wall painfully, before kissing down his neck. Tony could use his hands, he knew he could, but he felt paralysed. He felt tears start to fall down his face but he couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe.

Not knowing was better. Not remembering was better. Waking up and realising what happened but not remembering was so much better. Because right now, he could feel, he could move, but he wasn't moving, and he couldn't scream or shout for help. He was in control and yet he felt more powerless than he'd ever felt in his life.

Tiberius was towering over Tony, unbuttoning the brunet's shirt. Tony could only breathe heavily behind the blond's hair whilst praying that someone, anyone, would come and stop this. And then he realised how the situation looked- Stark heir gay, letting himself get fucked in a public gala.

Obadiah was going to be furious.

"What the fuck?" 

Tony's eyes opened, looking for the voice that sounded so familiar. His fucking father was here, Obadiah behind him. Tony felt even weaker than before, because his father was going to kill him and Obadiah was going to be so disappointed.

"What's going on here?" Obadiah looked at the two. "Is this the boy you were talking about?"

Tony didn't know whether Obie realising was good or bad, but he nodded anyway. Tiberius' hand was still on his mouth. 

"What boy?" 

"Tony made some accusation that someone had raped him, but I told him not to be silly- boys can't be raped. Besides, if he reported this, it'd look like your heir was gay, and that would be terrible publicity."

"What?" Howard was livid, and Tony couldn't tell if the anger was at him or Tiberius.

"I didn't rape him." Tiberius said casually, hand still over Tony's mouth. He hadn't moved an inch, and it was seemingly out of fear. "He wanted this."

"Tony." Howard said slowly. "Did you want this?"

Tony looked at Obadiah, looked at Tiberius, and then at his father. He didn't want this at all. So he shook his head quickly. 

"Don't touch my son." Howard walked towards the two. "Don't you touch my fucking son."

Obadiah followed suit. "Don't do anything stupid, Howard-"

"Get the fuck off of him." Howard lunged towards Tiberius, who stepped away and tried to dodge the incoming punch.

He was too slow, and before he knew it, Howard Stark was on top of him, punching his face over and over and over. Something snapped, presumably Tiberius' nose, but Howard didn't stop. 

"Please-" Tiberius tried.

"You didn't listen to him, did you?" Howard spat. "Didn't listen to my son telling you to stop, did you? He told you he didn't want it, didn't he? And you kept going, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry-"

Howard kept punching the blond, even as Obadiah tried to pull him off. He stayed exactly where he was, punching Tiberius until the man couldn't open his eyes. At some point, Tiberius had passed out, and Howard kept going.

"Howard." Obadiah said. "Howard, that's enough now. Get off of him."

"You." Howard turned around. "My son came to you and you told him that it'd be bad publicity. You told him boys can't be fucking raped. You let this happen."

"I-"

"If you had let him report this, it wouldn't have almost happened again." Howard stood up, and though he was shorter than Obadiah, he had never looked taller. "You made him feel like what happened to him wasn't actually a problem."

"Howard-"

"Get the fuck out of my sight before I hit you too."

"If you insist." Obadiah sighed, walking away. 

Howard finally saw his son, still stood where Tiberius had pinned him against the wall. Tony was still crying, and when he realised his dad was looking, he quickly wiped his tears away and tried to compose himself.

"I'm sorry-" he began, but was cut off.

His father was hugging him. What a foreign experience.

"I'm sorry." Howard said. "I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't come to me. I wouldn't have dismissed it. I wouldn't have let that bastard get away with what he did. You're my son, and I'll be damned if someone hurts you like that. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Tony felt himself tear up again.

"You can cry." Howard was crying too. "I'm sorry. I know I'm harsh on you, and I know I make a big deal out of crying and- showing weakness, but this is not weakness. I'm sorry. I've been a shitty father and I'll do better."

"You're not a shitty father."

"Don't lie." Howard pulled away. "I've been a shitty father, but I'm going to do better. I need you to tell me everything that happened with this scumbag so we can get him arrested."

"I- It's not- you can't." Tony mumbled. "It was my fault. If I hadn't been drinking, he wouldn't have been able to drug me and- it was my fault."

"It was not your fucking fault. He took advantage of you and then drugged you, and then he fucking raped you. That's not your fault." 

Tony didn't know what to say. "Boys can't get raped."

"They can. Obadiah lied to you, and he shouldn't have. I wouldn't ever let 'bad publicity' get in the way of protecting you. You can come to me when things like this happen, okay? God forbid it ever does, but you come to me if it does. You're my son and I'd do anything to protect you."

"You're gonna get in trouble for assault." Tony pointed at Tiberius.

"I've got better lawyers." Howard shrugged. "And he's gonna get put away for what he did to you anyway. Most I'll have to do is pay a fine."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. I don't regret what I did." Howard smiled. "I'll do anything to protect you, okay? You're my son, and I love you."

Tony felt weak, beginning to cry all over again. "I love you too, dad."

Chapter Text

Steve lived in a shitty apartment. He had neighbours screaming or.. doing other things, way too loudly all the time. He learned to mind his business, learned to just live with it. He was working as hard as he could to leave the apartment and get a better place to stay.

He was all for helping people, though. So maybe, if things got bad enough, he'd try helping. But this was New York and most people hated nosy neighbours.

So for a while, he ignored his neighbours. 

One night, he came home late. It was two in the morning, he was tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. But then he heard a glass shatter on the wall of the apartment above his, and at first he thought he was dreaming.

But then he heard the voice of a guy and it sounded like he'd been crying. Now he was too worried to be sleeping.

So he took the elevator to the second floor, walked down the hall and knocked upon the door. A brunet opened up, and Steve asked about the things he'd been hearing.

"I think your ears are playing tricks on you." Sweater zipped up to his chin. "Thanks for caring, sir, that's nice of you, but I have to go back in."

Steve wanted to say something, to ask him what was really wrong, but he couldn't.

"Wish I could tell you 'bout the noise but I didn't hear a thing."

The smile on his face was way too fake. There were footsteps behind him, but no one was there.

"Are you sure?"

He said, "It must have been the wind."

"Must have been the wind?"

"Must have been the wind."

Must not have been the wind.

The night after, Steve was laying on the floor of his room, cold concrete on his back. No, he just couldn't shake the feeling. He couldn't intrude cause he knew he didn't have all the facts, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving him.

The fake smile, the timid voice, the messed up hair that looked like someone had pulled on it, hard. The sweater zipped up so far that surely there was a bruise beneath it. The small cut on the brunet's face, the trembling of his hands.

There was something so terribly wrong, and Steve couldn't shake the feeling.

So, when he heard the shouting again two days later, he took the elevator to the second floor, walked down the hall and knocked upon the door. The brunet opened up, and Steve asked about the things he'd been hearing.

"If you're not safe, say it was the wind." He whispered.

"I think your ears are playing tricks on you." Sweater zipped up to his chin. "Thanks for caring, sir, that's nice of you but I have to go back in."

Steve waited for him to say it, staring at the bruise on his left cheek.

"Wish I could tell you 'bout the noise, but I didn't hear a thing."

Steve wanted the brunet to say it so badly because that meant he had the okay to help, in whatever way he could. He'd find out how.

He said, "It must have been the wind."

"It must have been the wind?"

"It must have been the wind."

"It must have been the wind."

Steve walked away with a nod, determined. The brunet sounded sure the second time he said it, and that meant Steve could help. Even if he just met this man, he'd help. He'd do something, anything, to make it better.

He thought of a plan and waited a night, hoping his long-shot idea would work. He had to help the brunet. He was far too gorgeous to be hiding himself, restricted and beaten by someone who deserved jail time.

So Steve aimed his boombox at the roof, playing Lean on Me, just so that he knows he can lean on him. And when he hears the words, he hopes he'll be okay.

Steve aimed his boombox at the roof, playing Lean on Me, just so that he knows he can lean on him. And when he hears the words, he knows exactly what he'll say.

Almost immediately after, he heard someone shout to tell the downstairs neighbour to shut up. He heard light footsteps and a door close, and before he knew it, the brunet was at his door.

The sweater wasn't zipped up so far, and his throat was red, bruised and his hair was messy. The bruise on his face was darker and there was a newer bruise on his jaw now. The brunet was crying, eyes red.

"Promise I'm not playing tricks on you." Steve smiled. "You're always welcome to come in."

The brunet walked in timidly with a sad smile.

"You can stay here for an hour or two if you ever need a friend."

"The noise-"

"We can talk about the noise when you're ready, but till then, I'll say it must have been the wind."

"Must have been the wind?"

"Must have been the wind."

"It must have been the wind."

Steve had given the brunet an ice pack and put a blanket on him when the man fell asleep on the sofa. He wondered what his name was and what had happened to him, how he let himself get hurt.

It wasn't until someone aggressively knocked on the door that he found out.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Where the fuck is he?"

The blond man barged into the apartment and saw the brunet sleeping on the sofa. He'd woken up upon hearing the loud footsteps and scrambled to get up, terrified.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment." Steve yelled. "Excuse my language, but get the fuck out."

"That's my-"

"Property." Steve raised a brow. "No? He seems like a person to me, so you can't just barge in and demand to have him back like he's an object. I suggest you walk out of here before I throw you out."

The blond looked at the taller, muscly blond. He was fit to be a soldier, and that scared the man, so he left.

"I'll fucking get you, Stark."

The brunet's face paled, and the blond was gone, and Steve stood confused before locking the door. 

"Stark?" He asked. "As in... Tony Stark?"

"Please. You can't tell anyone."

"Of course not." Steve sat down on the sofa, patting a spot for Tony to sit down.

"I-"

"We can talk about the noise when you're ready, but till then." Steve reiterated. "I'll say it must've been the wind."

"Must've been the wind."

"Must've been the wind."

The week later, Tony had finally spoke of the wind. He figured Steve deserved an explanation after he let Tony stay, rent-free. 

"That man is Tiberius Stone." 

"The Viastone guy?"

"Yeah." Tony sighed. "He was supposed to be my partner, so SI and Viastone could become partners in business. My father wanted it, and he beat me into making sure I would. But then Ty found out and took me away from them, providing for me when my money was cut off."

"He looks a lot older than you."

"He's twenty-four." 

"And you are?"

"Nineteen."

Steve drew back a breath. "How long were two you together?"

"We left when I was eighteen. He moved me here and said it was low-key enough for me to hide, and then he left, saying we didn't have to be partners. He came back every now and then to take care of things, and I fell for him, because no one had taken care of me like that."

"And then the wind."

"He started hitting me two months ago. He pretended it was an accident, but then realised he could get away with it and blackmail me. So I let him." Tony's voice sounded weak, like he was about to cry. "But then you gave me a way out."

"I'm not going to force you into doing anything. You can live here rent-free until you get a job and, when you're stable enough financially, then I'll help you find somewhere to stay, somewhere Stone can't get to you."

"You don't have to." Tony said softly. "I was planning to leave and just go back to my dad. He'd keep me away if I promised to help out with the company."

"No one is hitting you, whether it's your father or Stone." Steve said calmly. "You don't have to stay with me, but I'm giving you a choice. Another way out. If you ever feel unsafe, you can leave. But give this a chance."

"Maybe I will." Tony smiled. 

Tony's stuff was brought to Steve's apartment the next week, with Steve barging into Ty's apartment, knocking the guy out cold and taking everything he needed. He threatened to press charges, but the Stark in Tony came out and he said the Stark name would always be more powerful than the Stone name.

Regardless, Steve and Tony had told Ty's parents about what their son was really like. Ty was cut off this time, and they paid Tony a compensation fee. It wasn't for silence, but as an apology for Ty and Howard. 

Steve was sad when Tony left, but he never mentioned it. When he saw Tony in the news for starting a clean-energy company of his own, he was proud of the brunet regardless.

Three months after Tony left, Steve found out the name of the new company. 

"It's called Rogers Enterprises." The brunet declared. "Named after the man who saved my life. I wouldn't have been able to do this without him. Steve, if you can see this, thank you, for everything."

The next night, Tony was at his door, saying he was falling for Steve, despite his fear of being hurt. He said he would risk it all to be with Steve, and Steve couldn't help but kiss the brunet and treat him right.

They were together privately, and when Steve was ready, it was public. And not a single person had anything to say about it, except from Tiberius.

Who was arrested and brought to light about his abusive tendencies. And then so was Howard, and Tony got everything from the wretched man. He won.

He couldn't help but be grateful for the wind.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was a genius. He was incredibly smart, smarter than his father, his science bro and his mentee. He wasn't the smartest socially, but when it came to sciences and engineering, Tony was the best in the field. He'd earned countless awards for his genius, and he deserved each and every one. As an adult, he was beyond intelligent.

No one expected him to still be so smart at a young age. No one expected to see him at a young age, but then a battle went wrong and the suit was rendered useless, because whoever was inside it had no idea how to use it. When JARVIS managed to unlock it, instead of a grown man stepping out, a much shorter, teenage boy fell out.

Literally fell.

It wasn't his finest moment, but once the battle was over and the team had safely surrounded the man in a can, JARVIS unlocked the suit without warning. Nothing was holding the boy up, so he fell forward into someone's chest, and looked up to see a boy similar to his age.

"Mr Stark?"

"Who are you?" Tony said, before looking around. "Who are all of you? And where am I?"

"Tony-"

It was only then that Tony had seen Captain fucking America, the man his father never shut up about. "No fucking way."

"You recognise me?" Steve asked.

"Of course I do, Captain bloody America." Tony grumbled. "How can I not recognise you?"

"How old are you, Tony?" 

"Fifteen, what else would I be?" Tony looked at the blond like he was stupid. 

"Cool, you're the same age as me." The red-and-blue clad teenager smiled. "But you shouldn't be."

"What, did I accidentally time travel, or something?" Tony was being sarcastic, but no one seemed to be phased by that. "Did I? No way. I must've, like, shrunk or something. Reverse aged." 

"I assume so." 

"So what year is it?" Tony looked around. "And where are we? I'm assuming we're in Manhattan."

"We are. And it's.. twenty-sixteen." 

Tony let his jaw drop slightly. "As in, two-thousand? Like, the next century? Holy shit, I should be.. I should be forty-five. Oh shit, I'm old."

"You're not that old. I should be almost one hundred years old." Steve said, trying to be reassuring.

"Piss off, you look twenty." Tony rolled his eyes. "I don't look old, in the future, do I?" 

"No, you don't." The other teenager outstretched his hand. "I'm Peter, by the way."

"You look ridiculous." Tony ignored the hand and looked around. "All of you do. What are you supposed to be? Super secret boyband? Earth's Mightiest Heroes type shit?"

"Well, exactly that, actually." Peter grinned. "I'm Spider-Man, he's Bruce, she's Natasha, he's Clint and he's Thor." 

"Thor? Like the mythic god?"

"I'm no such myth." Thor boasted loudly. "I am Thor, Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder."

"Okay Point Break.." Tony put his hands into the pockets of his oversized jeans. He was wearing what he should've been back in nineteen-eighty-five, but even so, his clothes were a little too big for him. "So, what are we doing about this situation? Can you guys fix me or..?"

"This is a magic situation, and the wizard who usually deals with stuff like this isn't here for a bit, so you'll probably stay like this for a bit." Peter explained.

"Wizard?" Tony can't believe the world he's in. He's sure everyone here is actually deranged. Maybe he got kidnapped by some psychos. But they have to be real because Captain America is here. "I can't- I need a minute. Where's home, for me, in this century?"

"That big building up there."

It seems absolutely right for Tony to live in a big building with an obnoxious A on the side of it. He doesn't know what the A stands for, but he likes it. 

"How do I get there?" 

"Fly."

Tony stared at the redhead who said to do that, but then the suit he was once in wrapped around him and holy shit, he's flying. He's actually flying, and the world feels like it's in his hands as he rushes past clouds and buildings. 

He likes the future.

Tony thought Peter was weird at first. He thought the teenager was too nerdy, too shy, a painful reminder of what Tony was like before he found Rhodey at college. But then he discovered how smart Peter was, and the two find themselves actively experimenting and having the time of their lives in Tony's lab.

Speaking of Rhodey, the man is old now. He's older, taller, more muscly and yet exactly the same as Tony remembered. Rhodey could only stay for a day, and he kept laughing at how he couldn't believe he got stuck with a teenage Tony again. If it was anyone else, Tony would've felt like shit. But it was Rhodey, and Rhodey was safe no matter what year, what age. 

What Tony soon realised about Peter was that the kid was a little shit. Older him was the kid's mentor, and Tony immediately prayed for himself because Peter would be a handful for him to deal with. But, as a teenager, Peter was a delightful menace that Tony would gladly get up to no good with.

"We prank the team a lot." Peter said. "You and me. And Clint. Clint loves pranking people. It's kind of his thing. You're not very responsible. You're just a little bit more mature than you now, I think."

"I'm- I didn't fall off, did I? Like, I'm still smart?" Tony asked hopefully. His biggest fear was that he peaked too early. He had ideas upon ideas of ways to make the future better, cleaner, greener, and he didn't want to lose it all before he could actually do something about it.

He wasn't told much of what older Tony was like.

"Of course you are." Peter said incredulously. "You- you made the suit you were flying in. You- you've saved lives and saved the world. You stopped living up to your father's legacy and moved on to green energy and you're amazing. You're an actual genius, Mr Stark."

"I hate that. I'm literally your age. I cannot be called Mr Stark when I'm still a child." Tony said exasperatedly. "Please, call me Tony." 

"It's weird seeing you as a kid.. Tony." Peter seemed uncomfortable saying the man's first name. "I'm supposed to look up to you, respect you, and you're shorter than me. You're my age, and you're shorter than me, and that really confuses me."

"Okay, well, stop seeing me as this annoying grown man and start seeing me as an annoying child." Tony stood up. "Come on, we're going to go piss off the team." 

"Cool, what are we gonna do?" 

"Yeah, we'll figure that out in a sec."

Bruce woke up with glitter all over him, and it took him hours to get all of it out. Even when he thought it was finally over, he was still sneezing glitter and his hair was still shining with specks of red and gold. 

Iron Man suits were scattered across the tower, and if someone in the team walked past, the suit would jump out at them. Peter and Tony recorded each and every reaction, laughing their asses off at how Clint and Steve screamed like five year olds.

A thick chunk of Thor's hair was red when he woke up. It was braided with a gold ribbon, and he couldn't bring himself to undo it or cut it off. It was meant to be a prank, but Tony couldn't help but feel warm and fuzzy inside when he saw Thor walking around with the braid proudly. 

Natasha wasn't easy to prank. She watched Tony and Peter attempt to switch the salt and sugar so she'd eat salty pancakes when she made them for breakfast. She was planning to switch them back and ruin their prank, but when she saw how pure Tony looked, she let their prank work. She'd never seen her friend so happy, so she let him stay happy.

Clint cried when his bow went missing. He cried even more when he found it in the vents, but then he couldn't get to it because some idiot put glue in the vents. He stopped crying out of embarrassment when the vent fell through and he fell on Iron Man pillows, a camera in his face.

The pranks were all fun and games for the team, when they saw how happy Tony looked. Of course, they fucking hated the pranks, but when they saw the pure joy on Tony's face every time he successfully tormented a superhero, they couldn't help but be happy with him.

Even Steve decided to deal with them. 

Until Peter and Tony went too far.

It was a joke, of course. Meant to be completely harmless. Tony didn't know how the Avengers worked, didn't know how unexpected the Assemble calls were, so he decided to mess around with the team's equipment. He decided to make the Widow Bites zap web fluid instead of electricity. 

He then made Clint's arrows rubber-ended, instead of sharp and pointy. The arrowheads were easily fixable, and so were Natasha's Bites. And as an honest-to-god joke, he made the Hulk pants have Iron Man faces all over them. 

Him and Peter were laughing like maniacs over it. They were going to get the team to come try out their 'upgraded' equipment, record their reactions, and then laugh about it until their stomachs ached and they could barely breathe, but then the Assemble called.

Tony had no time to do anything, to say anything, because Clint, Nat and Bruce had grabbed their things and ran to the Quinjet, and Peter wasn't needed for the Assemble, so he hadn't gone either. Everyone was gone, out into the field to fight, and Peter and Tony were left behind. 

An hour later, the team had returned, and Steve had a look on his face that reminded Tony of his father, and his clothes started to feel scratchy and way too warm. 

"Tony." Steve yelled. "What did you do?"

"What did I do?" 

"Don't play stupid. What did you do to Clint's arrows and Natasha's Bites?" 

"It was just a prank-" Tony said quickly. "It's easily fixable. I can- I can do it now-"

"That's not the point." Steve slammed the equipment onto Tony's desk. "You can mess around and prank us all you want, but going for the things we need to fight is too far. Someone could've been hurt out there, and it would've been your fault. Your team could've been hurt, for what, a joke?"

"I didn't- I didn't think that- I didn't-"

"Of course you didn't think." Steve threw his hands up and Tony flinched. "You didn't think and it made what could've been a short battle a lot longer. God, Tony, you need to stop being so impulsive and careless and respect people's things. You can't just mess things up because you think it's funny."

"Of course you didn't think. Now a two-million dollar contract is down the drain, all because you didn't fucking think."

"Steve, er, sir, I think you should-"

"I just don't understand." Steve seemed more disappointed than angry now, and that was never better. "I don't understand. All the other pranks were beyond frustrating but we let you have your moment, because it seemed good for you, but this? This isn't good for anyone. God, Tony, you need to stop being so selfish sometimes and think about other people."

"You need to stop being so selfish. You can't mess with things just because you don't like them. It's not your fucking place."

"It's not your place to mess with the team's equipment."

"I'm sorry." Tony choked out, his throat feeling tight and restricted. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I-"

"Sorry doesn't make things better."

"Sorry is a meaningless fucking word. It won't change what you did. It can't bring the money you just lost me back. And it's pathetic, anyway. Apologising like some weak, pathetic idiot."

Tony didn't see Steve in front of him. No, instead, he saw his father. Howard Stark was towering over him, shouting at him, and Tony ran. Tony didn't know what else to do but run. He could hear someone calling out for him, but he just ran and ran and ran until he got to a room with a lock and he cried.

He liked this new world. He liked being able to mess around with someone who understood him, someone his age who understood him. He liked having superheroes ruffle his hair and smile at him when he did something childish. He liked feeling safe in his skin, because no one here hated him for being exactly what he was - a child. 

But this? This wasn't nice. Steve Rogers, Captain America, the man Howard constantly compared Tony to, shouting in his face, was not nice. Tony felt beyond overwhelmed, anxiety consuming him. His hands were in his hair, pulling at the brown strands hard to try and ground him, to try and keep him in the present.

All he could hear was Howard's demeaning words, the sound of fists hitting his tender skin. He could feel the fear that being in the same room as his father caused him. He could feel the emptiness that derived from the fact that his father simply didn't love him, and the anger he felt when he realised that maybe he'd be loved if Captain America didn't exist.

Bad memories upon bad memories resurfaced over and over. He was a fifteen year old boy, and all he could think of when he thought of his father was pain. It hurt like hell.

Steve was a reminder of his father. The way he spoke, the way he shouted. Tony had thought he was better than the man Howard described, had been proud of himself because Steve didn't hate him, like Howard said he would if they ever met. But now, after this, he felt resentment and anger and he wanted everything to stop.

It was too much. Every single thing he felt, whether it was his emotions or the clothes on his body, felt too much. Everything was overwhelming and painful and he needed it all to stop.

It stopped.

"What happened?" Natasha asked when she entered the workshop. "I just saw Tony run off somewhere, and he wasn't responding to me."

"Steve shouted at him for messing with your equipment." Peter said helpfully. "Proper shouted at him. I don't know Mr Stark well, but he's never been good with having someone scream in his face. I don't think he's good with that as a kid either."

"I didn't mean to." Steve looked defeated. "I just- he went too far and he shouldn't have. I was just trying to make sure he didn't do something like that again."

"None of us were hurt." Natasha crossed her arms. "Clint figured out how to remove the rubber arrowheads and I know how to fight without the Bites anyway. And the Hulk pants were just comical. I don't think he needed to be shouted at for that."

"But he wouldn't learn if no one told him not to."

"He didn't need to be shouted at." Natasha said calmly. "He just needed to be told what he did was wrong. No one likes having a super-soldier scream at them. Especially not a fifteen year old boy who doesn't belong here."

"I need to fix things." Steve decided. "JARVIS, could you tell me where Tony is?"

"He's currently in one of the meeting rooms, manually locked in."

Steve made his way to the room JARVIS spoke of, Natasha and Peter hot on his tail. He casually broke the door down, knowing it wouldn't hurt Tony's bank account to replace it. He felt ill when he saw the teenager passed out, leaning against the wall, body curled up in a defensive ball.

"Tony?" Steve knelt down by the boy. "Tony?" 

Tony woke up easily. He was never a deep sleeper, thanks to Howard. When he saw Steve in front of him, far too close, he scrambled to get away, hitting his head and elbows on the wall behind. Ignoring the dull pain, he stood up and backed away. 

"Tony?" 

"Sorry- I'm sorry- I-" 

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Natasha approached slowly. "You're okay." 

Tony had backed himself into a corner, his palms sweating, breathing heavy. His eyes darted across the room, avoiding looking at Steve. He tried to focus on a specific spot, but his entire body was alight with anxiety and he couldn't stop it. 

"You're okay." Natasha held onto his shoulder gently. "No one's gonna hurt you, okay? You're okay. You're safe." 

Tony looked up at her with wide eyes, and it pained Natasha to see how young he looked. "I didn't mean to- to get you hurt with- with the- the Bites- I- I didn't- I'm sorry- I-"

"I'm not mad." She smiled reassuringly. "I'm okay. I'm not hurt. And I'm not mad. Look, not a scratch on me."

Tony looked at her, searching for an injury that he'd been the cause of. But there wasn't a single scratch on her body, like she said. Even so, he felt immense guilt and fear, because even though she was okay, he'd still done something stupid, something worth getting hit over.

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." Tony swallowed uncomfortably. "Sorry, er-"

"Don't apologise." 

He wasn't going to argue with her. She still scared him.

"Tony?"

Tony looked at Steve, standing far too close for his liking. His hands weren't balled into fists like before, and he actually looked quite.. concerned. Howard never looked like that. 

"I'm sorry for shouting at you." Steve said. "I shouldn't have. I should've just told you not to mess with the equipment, rather than shout at you." 

"It's- it's fine. I did something wrong. You're supposed to shout at me when I do something wrong." 

"No I'm not." 

"How else am I meant to learn?" Tony shrugged. "Shouting's not the worst thing you could've done."

Steve and Natasha didn't like the way that sounded.

"What happened when you ran out of the room?" Steve asked. "You seemed- you seemed scared, of me."

"I wasn't scared of you." Tony said like it was insulting. He didn't want to look weak in front of a super-spy and Captain America.

"You were scared of something." 

"Scared of someone." Natasha realised. "He reminded you of someone, didn't he?"

Fuck. Tony looked at her like she'd betrayed him. How the fuck did she know?

"What?" Steve was lost. "Reminded you of someone?"

"You remind me of him." Tony admitted, wishing he could take the words back as soon as he said them. 

"Who?"

"Howard."

Steve inhaled sharply. "Tony, what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing." Tony said quickly. "Nothing, er, just forget I said that."

"Tony."

Something about Steve's voice made Tony feel like he had to say it. "The way you shouted at me reminded me of him."

"Did- was he like that?" Steve felt like a part of his past was a lie. "Was- was he- did he-?"

"It's just shouting." Tony tried to deflect. "You're acting like it's a big deal."

"The way I shouted at you was harsh." Steve acknowledged it. "I was way too harsh on you, and if that reminded you of- of Howard, then yeah, it is a big deal."

"Well at least you didn't hit me over it."

Tony bit his tongue. That sounded a lot worse than it was meant to sound. He was trying to reassure Steve, that the way he shouted wasn't that bad, that he could've been worse, but instead he basically admitted that his father hit him as well as shouted at him.

"He- he hit you?" 

"I didn't say that-" 

"He did." Natasha looked angry. "Your father hit you?"

"It's not- it's not that big of a deal." Tony felt claustrophobic. "It's not- it's discipline. All- all parents- everyone does it."

"Hitting your kids is not normal." Now Steve looked angry. "It's not normal, and it's not right. It's not discipline either, it's abuse." 

"It's not."

"It is." Peter said softly, after being quiet the whole time. It was easier for Tony to understand from someone his own age. "It's abuse. No parent should ever hit their kid. It doesn't matter what you've done- no kid ever deserves that."

"Why are you guys making this a big deal?" 

"Because it's not right." Peter frowned. "You should know that."

"I don't- fuck, I don't need this right now." Tony tried to walk away, but three people were blocking the door. "Can you guys just fuck off? Fuck, this is- shit- you-"

"It's okay." Natasha held him gently. "It's okay."

Tony collapsed in her arms, tears streaming down his face. No one was there to tell him what his father was doing was wrong, that he didn't deserve it. This was a foreign experience, overwhelming him completely. He didn't want to cry, but he was, and no one was shouting at him for it. 

"I'm sorry- I-"

"It's okay to cry." Natasha whispered. "It's okay. You're okay. No one's gonna hurt you here. You don't deserve that."

Tony only cried harder.

Chapter Text

After the events of New York, Tony Stark wasn't doing well. Pepper lived in the Malibu house whilst Tony alternated between that house and the Stark Tower, which was renovated after Loki. The Avengers moved in after New York, because Nick Fury said it would strengthen them as a team.

Tony wasn't exactly jumping for joy when he heard the news, but tried to be as accommodating as possible. He wasn't necessarily a people person, and was awful at socialising with people that weren't talking to him about business.

He still tried.

He devoted a floor to the Avengers, where each of them had a room and a communal living room, kitchen and gym. He wasn't sure if that was enough, and dedicated a second floor to them just in case.

There was a Hulk-proof room too, just in case Banner turned into his giant rage monster whilst in the Tower.

A week after New York, the team moved in. Bruce was there first, since Tony wanted him there. Bruce was given a personal lab in the second Avengers floor, set up with anything and everything the man needed.

Then Barton and Romanoff (or was it Romanova? Tony didn't know) came together. They came with little belongings and Clint seemed to be unhappy with the fact that Tony lived in such a luxurious place whilst the two superspies struggled and had to work as hard as they could for little keep.

Thor came for a little bit before returning to Asgard. He simply thanked Tony for the temporary stay and told the billionaire he'd come straight to the Tower whenever he returned to Midgard.

Lastly, Rogers arrived. Even after New York, there was an air of hostility between him and Tony. Rogers seemed to be unhappy with Tony. He preferred Howard Stark over Tony, and made it clear. Even so, he said thanks and went off to his respective room.

And though Tony had invited people into his home, it still felt as lonely as it was before they came.

Tony couldn't eat. At first, he forgot to eat because he was working to forget about New York, but after a while of eating small meals over scattered time, he just couldn't eat. When he tried to, he would find himself nauseated and chose to skip meals altogether and have small snacks throughout the day. He chose to have foods like plain toast and crackers to avoid upsetting his stomach.

Then he just stopped eating.

He didn't mean to, but he did. He wouldn't think about food at all and when he went to sleep after spending hours awake, he would ignore the ache in his stomach and JARVIS telling him he should eat before sleeping.

The only thing he drank was coffee. Sometimes alcohol.

He spent a week drinking straight coffee and running on short naps before he passed out in his workshop. Naturally, JARVIS tried to tell someone, but Tony had restricted him from doing so. He woke up an hour later and pretended like nothing happened.

JARVIS forced Tony to go eat something with the threat of locking all of his suits and then locking Tony out of his own workshop. Tony was appalled, but then proud of his AI-son. He reluctantly went down to eat and found the Avengers sitting for a team dinner.

"Hey guys. Having a mother's meeting without me?" He joked.

They all stayed quiet except Bruce. "Do you want me to fix you a plate?"

Tony wasn't hungry. In fact, he felt sick. He hadn't had a proper meal in what felt like forever. But he couldn't be rude and say no. They already thought he was a self-centred narcissist. "Sure."

Bruce got up and made Tony a plate. His mouth watered at the sight of lamb curry on a bed of white rice. It looked delicious, but still made Tony feel sick.

He wanted to leave. He also really wanted to eat.

Tony sat down and accepted the plate graciously. He made sure to sit at the empty seat on the end of the table, away from the rest of them, who looked at him like he had AIDS. He tucked into the meal and started with the rice alone.

The rice wouldn't make him sick, would it?

He felt full after three bites, but still tried some of the meat. It was fucking gourmet, but his stomach was cramping painfully and he knew he should absolutely stop eating.

He didn't.

He finished about half of the plate before he really couldn't handle it anymore. He stood up abruptly, said a quick thank you and ran out to the nearest toilet where he threw up everything he'd eaten.

Which wasn't a lot.

Fuck.

"JARVIS, what's wrong with me?"

"It appears you are developing anorexia."

Tony scoffed. "I'm not some insecure teenager that hates their body. I just can't eat."

"You do not need to hate your body to be anorexic. You can hate yourself and choose to use starvation as self-harm which leads to anorexia."

Tony didn't know how to respond. There was no way he was anorexic. He just couldn't eat- like he said. Something about food made him feel sick.

But he wasn't self-harming either. He knew all about self-harm and what he was doing right now wasn't that. He couldn't eat. It was that simple. Clearly JARVIS was overreacting.

"You're being dramatic, JARVIS. I'm not self-harming or starving myself, and I'm definitely not anorexic. I just don't like eating anymore."

"Sir, you cannot keep a small meal down because you've been slowly depriving yourself of food for three months. You've lost twenty pounds or nine kilograms in that time."

Tony looked down at himself. He hadn't been out much and didn't look in the mirror that often. He didn't like looking at his body either, not with the reactor in his chest. Was it possible that he had actually lost so much weight?

"Is that bad? Will I die?"

"No you won't. If you keep this up, there is a chance you might. I suggest starting to build your appetite back up slowly."

"No that's fine." Tony dismissed the idea and walked over to the bathroom in the workshop, removing his shirt and seeing his body thinner, less muscly. Where did his abs go? How did they just disappear?

He wasn't an idiot; he knew there was a certain amount of calories required to maintain muscle mass, but he didn't realise they'd just disappear. Maybe he should start working out and checking his body more often.

There was no harm in that, right?

No matter how much Tony worked out, he couldn't regain his muscles. He only got skinnier and more pale, more thin. When he went to see Pepper, the woman expressed her concerns for Tony's health and he dismissed them.

He decided not to see her for a while.

He returned to his lonely tower and chose to wallow away in his workshop, working on a new suit when his vision darkened and his head felt light. He stood up slowly and stumbled over to find coffee.

He'd run out.

Sighing, he asked JARVIS if there was coffee in the communal kitchen, and the AI responded with a yes and a you should grab something to eat while you're there. But Tony couldn't do that. He didn't feel like eating.

After a few months of barely eating, he felt a weird sense of pride in the restriction. It was like he had some sort of control on himself, and he liked it. He liked having some sort of control. He didn't feel like he had control when he floated in space.

But not eating gave him control.

And he wasn't dead. So he persevered in his journey of starvation.

He stopped working out after a while when he felt that he simply couldn't. The starvation was getting to him, and he felt weak and tired quicker than before. Besides, he wasn't trying to lose weight.

He just didn't want to eat.

When Tony got to the kitchen, he happened to catch the Avengers having a team dinner again. He wondered how many times they'd done this without him. Was this a routine? Was this something they all did together without him?

Did they leave him out on purpose?

He wanted to thank them for not making him eat, but at the same time, he wanted to cry because he was being left out. He'd been left out in school for being the freakishly smart kid who didn't befriend gold diggers. This felt the same, except he funded everything for them.

Did they only want him for his money?

"Hey, Tony. You gonna eat with us?" Bruce asked.

Bruce was the only one Tony spoke to. They worked on projects together often, but Tony started distancing himself when Bruce caught onto the shaking hands and pale skin.

No one was allowed to stop him from not eating. He needed that control.

And he didn't need food.

"No, just came for some coffee. I ran out in my workshop."

"You should eat." Bruce said simply.

"You run off of coffee." Barton laughed. "Do you even eat anything?"

Tony wanted to leave. "I eat. Just not at regular times."

"Sit down Stark." Rogers commanded. "You can't live off of coffee all day. It isn't healthy."

"Like you care what's healthy for me." Tony muttered. The team, save from Bruce, hadn't shown an ounce of care for him in the months they'd lived in his tower. They barely talked to him at all.

Because you're not an Avenger. You're just a consultant. They aren't your team.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I'm not hungry anyways." Tony said truthfully, sipping his coffee.

"I'll bring you a plate later then." Bruce offered.

"Don't bother Jolly Green." Tony smiled and walked out, vision darkening as he did so. He drank his coffee quickly, despite it burning his throat. If he was going to pass out, it was not going to be ten feet away from the team that hated him.

"Did he seem pale to you guys?" Bruce asked after Tony left. "Skinny, too?"

"He seemed like himself." Steve said simply.

"Well you don't talk to him so you can't say that." Bruce said. "None of you guys do. Did anyone even tell him about the team dinners?"

"We thought you did." Clint replied.

"I did when he first started them."

"He probably didn't listen." Steve concluded. "Stark never listens to anyone but himself. He only cares when it benefits him."

Bruce didn't like that answer. "You guys all act like he's the worst person in the world."

Natasha raised a brow. "He's not the worst, but he isn't perfect."

"None of us are. I'm part-monster, you two are manipulative spies and Steve is- well, Steve. But we aren't perfect. Why should Tony be perfect if none of us are?"

No one replied, uncaring of the conversation. Tony Stark was unimportant to them.

True to his words, Bruce left a plate in the workshop for Tony, who thanked him and dismissed him. Once Bruce was gone, Tony left the plate untouched and continued to work alone with AC/DC playing in the background.

He couldn't eat.

The meal left a lingering smell in the room, one that was tempting and tickled Tony's nose. He wanted to eat so badly but he couldn't. He was fine with the two crackers he ate the night prior. The ache in his stomach was a reminder that he had control.

He couldn't throw it away because Bruce thought he would be hungry later.

He was hungry constantly. He just didn't notice until it got too bad.

Eventually he caved when the chicken wraps were cold, and he ate both wraps until he couldn't and immediately threw up. He sat by the toilet and cried because he lost control, and cried because he couldn't even keep it in.

He decided eating anything was pointless. Why give up control when he wouldn't even keep the food in?

So he stopped eating the little snacks that kept him alive. Humans could survive on just water for about two-three months, right?

Why not test that theory?

One month in of just drinking water, lots of it, Tony started to feel more dizzy and tired than he'd ever been. His hair was starting to fall out and he got sharp pains in his body frequently. His skin was pale and his face was hollow, and the rest of his body was thinning rapidly.

That wasn't his plan.

He just wanted to be in control, but now it felt like he was less and less in control. He felt like he was slipping away and couldn't stop it, didn't know how to stop it.

Had he gone too far?

There were times where he slept for far too long, so long that he thought when he woke up, maybe this would be the last time he'd do so. That fear was proven wrong until a month in, where the anxiety increased and he worried for his life.

But a part of him didn't want to live. No one else wanted him alive, did they?

Would it matter if he died?

Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, not recommended.

At forty-three years old, he started writing a will. A definite one.

Tony decided to leave his workshop for once, tired of JARVIS' nagging on how he really needed to eat. The AI feared for his creator's life. Tony didn't care. JARVIS was just an AI, he would survive without Tony.

JARVIS and all of his suits were left to Rhodey, who he hadn't seen in months. The company was left with Pepper, and so was a third of his fortune. The other third went to Rhodey and the last third was split between the Avengers. A large chunk of the Avengers' share went to various charities.

A majority of which were for eating disorders and mental health.

He was ready to die, so he went to go have some human interaction before he did so. He found the team in the communal living room watching a movie.

Was this another thing they did without him?

"Having a movie night without dear old me?" Tony asked jokingly, a part of him asking seriously because it hurt to be left out. No matter what, it'd always hurt to be left out.

Isolation was only fun when it was his choice.

"Come sit." Bruce pat the space next to him, avoiding the question. Tony sat down, seeing the way Barton's face scrunched up in disgust.

He knew when he wasn't wanted. He didn't care today.

He was dying. This wasn't as bad as when he was dying of palladium poisoning, because this time, this was his choice.

Just because it wasn't his intention, didn't mean he didn't want it. (This time. He wasn't ready two years ago.)

The movie they were watching wasn't one Tony was familiar with, but he was familiar with the wormhole that appeared on the screen. His throat closed up and his chest felt heavy and tight all at once.

He couldn't have an anxiety attack. He absolutely couldn't.

But he did.

The room was dark, and no one was looking at him, so he desperately tried not to make a scene. But his mind was foggy and his body was weak and suddenly the world was completely darkening, not even the TV providing a source of light for him.

Was this it?

Was he dying?

He couldn't find a reason to care.

When he woke up, the room was bright, a stark contrast from where he last was. The walls were painfully white and there was an annoying beeping that stopped him from being able to sleep again.

He looked around and saw a needle in his hand. He hated needles. There was a tube leading into his stomach and a mask on his face that he desperately wanted off, but he couldn't move. He felt paralysed.

Oh. He was in a hospital. He hated hospitals.

He saw the Stark logo on the end of the bed and realised it was the Tower's medical room. That made him feel a bit more relieved. He still hated hospitals.

"Tony? Oh, thank god, you're awake." Pepper was there. Why was Pepper there? She should be in Malibu. He hadn't spoken to her in ages.

"Tony?" Rhodey was there too. Why was Rhodey there? Shouldn't he be out of the country right now? He hadn't spoken to him in ages too.

The oxygen mask was removed from his face and Tony felt freer, despite the dryness of his throat restricting him from talking. He opened his mouth and closed it.

"I'll call the nurse. Rhodes, feed him these ice chips."

Tony felt like a baby as his best friend fed him ice chips, but it felt nice to have the cold cubes in his mouth. It was relaxing, waiting for them to melt enough to swallow. After the fifth ice chip, he felt okay enough to speak.

"What happened?"

"What happened?" The caring side of Rhodey was gone. "What fucking happened? You tell me, Tony. You tell me why I got a call saying you'd been starving yourself and passed out in the middle of a fucking anxiety attack and your body didn't want you to wake up."

Tony swallowed uncomfortably. "That's a good question Honeybear."

"Don't give me that bullshit Tony." Rhodey screamed. "You almost fucking died. JARVIS was prepared to read me a fucking will, a will you created a few hours before you passed out. You knew you were going to die. What the fuck, Tony?"

"Sourpatch, keep up the screaming and I'll be in here for longer cause of hearing loss."

"Tony." Rhodey pleaded. "I can't lose my fucking brother. I love you, man. You can't just leave me like that, okay?"

"I'm sorry." Tony whispered, and he meant it. He didn't realise Rhodey would care so much. The rational side of him knew that he would, but Tony stopped listening to his rational side ages ago.

"Why'd you do it, Tones?"

Tony shrugged. He couldn't think of a single good reason. All of the reasons he had before felt like they were gone. "I can't eat."

"But why?"

"I don't know." Tony admitted truthfully. "It- it was like, like a sense of control. I didn't mean to stop eating. It just happened."

"You woke up and decided to starve?"

"No, I- I mean, you know how I forget to eat sometimes?" Tony waited for Rhodey to nod. "Well, it got too far. I didn't feel like eating, so I just didn't. It was mostly skipping meals and just snacking, but then I just stopped eating full meals, and then I couldn't eat full meals, or just eat at all. So I just stopped eating completely. Because I can't. Do you get that, Rhodey? I can't eat."

"When did this start?"

Tony tapped his fingers against the bed. "I don't really know."

"Yes you do."

He sighed. "After New York."

"That was why you had an anxiety attack, right?" Rhodey asked. "Because the movie was about a wormhole."

Tony nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling?"

"Because I can't. Stark men are made of iron, remember?" Tony shrugged. "But- I don't know how to either."

"Then learn. Because you're my brother, Tony. And I refuse to lose my brother."

"Stark."

Tony groaned. He was trying to sleep in the stupid medical room he designed, finding himself uncomfortable with the tube in his stomach. He didn't care that he was being fed.

He was just glad he wasn't physically eating. Because he couldn't.

"Capsicle." Tony faked a smile. He wasn't very happy with the Avengers team standing around him when he was trying to sleep.

"Don't try with that happy-jokey bullshit." Bruce glared at the billionaire. "Severe malnutrition. What the fuck?"

"Oh, did I forget to come to the team dinners I wasn't invited to?" Tony joked almost bitterly. "My bad. Remind me next time."

"Don't try and pin this on us. You're a grown man. You know how to feed yourself." Rogers said with his arms folded.

"Clearly not. Look at me." Nobody laughed. "Tough crowd. Mind telling me why you interrupted my nap?"

"You've been sleeping for four days. I think that's more than enough." Bruce glared at him again. "We were worried you'd sleep forever."

"You mean you were worried." Tony corrected.

"No?" Rogers was confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The only person who cares about me in this room is Brucie." Tony said simply. "None of you make an effort to talk to me or invite me to your team shit. I know I'm just a consultant but I did kinda invite you guys into my home and you didn't really seem to appreciate it."

"Clearly we need to do better. Will you stay alive so we can change that?" Romanoff asked.

Tony stayed quiet.

"I apologise for my lack of appreciation, Man of Iron." Thor declared. When did he get here? "I will stay in Midgard for longer this time to show how much you mean to me."

"It's okay Point Break. You're not here most of the time. I can't really blame you for not talking to me." Tony shrugged. "Jane's your priority here. I understand that."

"You are a priority to me too, Man of Iron. It is about time I showed that."

"Thank you." He whispered appreciatively.

"We appreciate you too. You've done a lot for us. It's about time we showed it too." Rogers stated. "You're coming to every team dinner from now on. There's a movie night every Friday, and we'll refrain from things with wormholes in them. Every Wednesday from now on, we're all going to sit together and just talk. Is that okay?"

"Okay." Tony liked this. He liked being included. But he hated that he had to almost die to get that.

"If you ever struggle with eating or anything else, you talk to me." Romanoff demanded. "You talk to me and we sort it out healthily. You are not allowed to end up in a hospital bed again or I'll kill you myself. Is that clear?"

That's terrifying. "Clear."

"Good. We'll let you get some rest now."

They all filed out except from Barton, who'd not talked the entire time. He waited for them to be out of earshot before stepping forward and sitting at the foot of the bed.

"I know what it's like, struggling to eat." He said softly. "I'm sorry I've been a prick. I shouldn't have made that joke about you eating. I should've seen the signs. I'm sorry I didn't."

"It wasn't your responsibility."

"I don't care. I'm going to help you from now on. If it means I have to hold your fucking hand as you eat, I'll do it." Clint smiled. "You are not alone. You come to me if you need someone, okay? Or like Tasha said, I will kill you."

"Scary superspies are surprisingly comforting." Tony smiled back. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Clint pat his leg before standing up. "I'll be back later. We're going to play games and watch movies and you have no say in the matter."

"I look forward to it."

True to their words, the Avengers made an effort to take care of Tony and include him. They all helped him with his feeding tube and invited him to team dinners when he started to manually eat again. They all stayed even when it took him an hour to finish a small meal.

There was always at least one person with him when he was eating, and always there to support him when he couldn't do it. Clint genuinely held Tony's hand when the billionaire felt like he couldn't do it.

When Tony cried into Rhodey's arms because eating was so hard, the rest of the team were all there to give him tissues and hugs and love because he deserved it. He'd never felt so loved in his life.

When he finally ate a meal at a regular pace without any hesitation, the team threw him a party and gave him a form to say he was officially an Avenger, because he didn't believe he was one without the form. They all refrained from drinking because they were aware of Tony's unsteady journey with sobriety.

The first time Tony asked if they could order pizza, the team had never been so proud of him. He was willingly eating instead of being forced to at regular times with someone watching over him.

And finally, when Tony ate three full meals all without someone telling him and without an ounce of hesitation, Pepper kissed him, Rhodey hugged him and the team took him on vacation to Disney World because he deserved it. They paid with their own money and refused to use Tony's.

He'd never felt so loved.

He had a family and he loved them. And they loved him.

He can eat.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was a lot of things. Arrogant, egotistical, narcissistic and more. He was a lot of things, and some of those things no one really noticed. For example, he always gets JARVIS to scan a crowd before talking, just because he's afraid someone will make another attack on him. He's paranoid.

When he's had a one night stand, Tony sometimes wants the people to stay, so he can make them breakfast and make them feel like it was worth it. Because he's thoughtful. When he's spent the past thirty-six hours straight trying to build something safe and reliable, so he can make Pepper proud. Because he's beyond creative and desires approval.

And when he knows his only way to live is no longer sustainable, and that he is far too close to dying, he knows he can trust Pepper with the company. He wants to trust her with the truth of why she got it so soon, but it feels like she's mad at him, so he doesn't. Because, the most surprising thing about Tony that no one ever notices, is he's incredibly insecure.

Growing up, he was always belittled by the one person whose approval he craved. His father would toss him and his achievements aside like he was nothing but dirt on the bottom of his shoe. Tony tried over and over before realising he wouldn't ever get his dad's approval.

So he sought it from the media, who were more than willing. And even when he had the whole world writing news about him, appreciating him for his genius, he couldn't help but wonder why that never fulfilled his want, his need for validation from Howard Stark.

He was often told he wasn't worth much, or worth anything at all. And that his death, just like his life, would have no meaning. No one would care, no one would cry. Even though Howard died twenty years ago, and Tony's life ended up having meaning, where people cared for him and cried over him too, he still believed his dad.

It was hard not to believe the things that were the foundation of your childhood. 

His death, he believed, would be meaningless. That's why it was so easy to throw his life away.

It started off simple. When he realised the palladium was increasing his blood toxicity, he dove into finding a substitute, a replacement. But he couldn't find any that would last as long as palladium before failing him as well, so he stuck with palladium, even if it was quite literally killing him.

When he realised he was dying, he knew that there would be paperwork and responsibilities that, for once, he couldn't just throw onto Pepper. And he realised he couldn't tell Pepper. She would freak out and he couldn't do that to her. He stresses her out enough already.

He thought of who he could tell, and there was absolutely no one. Rhodey was in the military - he didn't have time for petty things like Tony's death. All Rhodey knew was that Tony had something wrong with the reactor and had a 'high-tech crossword puzzle' on his neck.

There wasn't anything more that Rhodey needed to know. And Pepper wasn't supposed to know anything at all, not until it was just nearly too late. 

So he got started on his paperwork. He started simple, with little donations scattered across to charities, bigger donations for the charities supporting people with unwanted/'abnormal' body modifications, and prisoners of terrorist organisations. 

But then the blood toxicity started to rise a little bit too quick and too much, and he realised that giving amounts of money away wasn't going to cut it. He had less time than he anticipated, and it was becoming more and more real to him.

He was going to die. 

Giving Pepper the company was his smartest and most rational decision. There wasn't a soul more skilled and qualified to take over his company. He trusted Pepper with his life, especially since she was the one to try and expose Obadiah to him. He knew the company was in safe hands with her.

The suits, he decided, would go to Rhodey. Unless, of course, he tried to militarise and weaponise them. Then, he'd have JARVIS take back control and destroy them, or hide them in a safe place in a safe island, owned by Tony, of course.

JARVIS would be given to Pepper and Rhodey, with less power. Even in death, he'd still have JARVIS protect him and anything that needed to stay away from the public and his friends. For example, the suits, if needed.

All of his properties would be shared with Rhodey and Pepper, except one or two for Happy, who would get every single car that Tony owned as well. And then the leftover, non-donation money would be split between the three of them. They'd be set for life.

So no one would care if he died, and surely no one would cry.

It was happening too fast. The blood toxicity was rapidly increasing and the palladium cores were burning through quicker. Tony wasn't ready to die so soon. He just needed a little bit more time, and then he'd be ready, because he'd accepted that there was no alternative. 

He decided, for his last birthday, he would have some crazy party that meant people would remember him, even if they didn't care about him. His life had no meaning anymore, did it? He didn't need to try and perfect himself and impress others. He just needed to be remembered, because that was the closest he'd get to being cared about.

So he gathered as many skimpily-dressed girls, hoping that maybe Pepper would finally hate Tony for inviting girls when they were supposed to have something, even if they hadn't done anything about it. He wouldn't do anything with them, though, because he didn't want people to know about the reactor.

And then he chose to wear the suit. Maybe Rhodey would finally give up trying to help, give up on Tony. And then he'd be able to piss off the two most important people in his life enough for them to hate him by the time he died. They wouldn't have to mourn.

Happy was important to him too, but Tony had no idea how to ease his grief. Maybe if he just destroyed Happy's favourite car before he died, only to have it replaced and ready for him after his death, then that would work. He'd have to try later.

He was drunk out of his mind. He remembered that much. 

Rhodey had come in, tried to get Tony to stop, and then the man was in the Mark II suit, and he was fighting Tony. They were having a suit-to-suit, physical fight, and Rhodey had left him. He remembered waking up for a moment, seeing the man leave, before passing out again.

He wasn't sure if he'd wake up. 

But then he did, and his head and heart hurt. Pepper had to be done with him, and so did Rhodey. He hadn't installed the anti-militarise coding yet, so he knew that if Rhodey was really that mad at him, then militarisation would happen to Mark II. It was only one suit, at least.

He got to working on the code, despite his raging hangover. He thought about his destroyed home as he did, and wondered if he could get it renovated before he died. So that Pepper would be able to live there. So she wouldn't have to worry about the renovations on her own.

Tony sighed at his desk. He was all alone in the world, and he was dying too. He did this to himself, but no one had noticed how bad he'd gotten. Pepper had gotten increasingly mad at him and even though Rhodey had seen how wrong things were, he still fought Tony. He still left Tony.

Tony wanted to die.

It was almost bittersweet knowing he was going to.

blood toxicity: 94%

Time was running out. Tony was going to die. He didn't want to die from blood toxicity, from something he couldn't control. He wanted his life to always be in his own hands, and not something else's. 

So he made a plan. He thought quickly, and very irrationally. 

It would be easier to take his life instead of let the palladium poison take it for him. So he sat on top of a roof with a dangerous amount of MDMA and a bottle of vodka. He called it his final cocktail. He'd go out with a bang.

"JARVIS, record this message for me, will you?"

"As you wish, sir."

"Pep, Rhodey, Happy, you know I have an arc reactor, right? Only thing keeping me from having my heart torn to shreds with shrapnel. Well, it turns out, whilst it's saving me, it's also killing me. My blood toxicity has risen drastically due to the palladium core of the reactor, which means I'm dying. 

I'm dying of palladium poisoning.

But I'm not going to let myself die. I'm going to do it myself, since I did this myself. I got myself in trouble, I got myself bombed and kidnapped, and I made myself this stupid arc reactor. There's no other way for me to fix things, change things. Believe me, I've tried. 

I love you guys. I'm sorry I couldn't save myself, but I'm not sorry I'm killing myself. It's the only way Tony Stark can go out."

Tony sighed, and since he was wearing the suit, he could see warning flashes on his screen. 

blood toxicity: 98%

It was finally time. 

"JARV, send that out once- once I'm definitely gone, alright?"

"Sir, if I may-"

"You may not."

"I will miss you, sir."

Tony felt his heart hurt. "You're just an AI. You can't miss me."

"We both know, to me and you, that I am not just an AI."

Tony ignored his AI and started popping pills, washing them down with vodka. He felt numb already, so the usual burn from vodka didn't do anything. He felt at peace with the world, calm and without regrets. He didn't feel sad that no one knew, no one cared, that he was the reason he was dying. He felt more alive than ever.

He closed his eyes when he knew it was time. 

He never noticed Natalie Rushman appear on the rooftop. 

Chapter Text

Tony Stark hated his father. His father was borderline abusive, cold and neglectful and never made Tony feel loved. His mother was always fuck-knows where, off snorting lines or doing shots. He saw her even less than he saw his father.

He didn't know if he'd rather get hit or be ignored.

His parents were useless to him. They didn't show him any love, give him any positive attention and overlooked his achievements that strangers would obsess over. The only person who took care of him, really took care of him, was Obie. 

Obadiah Stane was Howard Stark's right hand man. The day Howard died, Obadiah didn't hesitate to take over the company, running it until Tony was in the right mindset to do it himself. He looked after the orphaned kid and made sure he was okay. He gave the boy the love and attention he'd been deprived of for so long.

Tony thought nothing of it. Thought nothing of the shoulder-rubbing, the hair-messing and the thigh-touching. He had no idea what parental love was like, so he accepted whatever Obadiah gave him. He thought nothing of all the creepy touching, because it was Obie. Obie was safe.

Obie was never safe.

"Tony?"

He couldn't reply, a high-pitched ringing spreading through his ears, his face morphing into shock. His body was freezing and burning at the same time, and there was nothing he could do.

"Tony, are you there?"

Hands. Hands had taken the phone from him, cutting off the call and placing him gently down onto the sofa. 

"Breathe.. Easy, easy.."

Tony's hand trembled, his head angled slightly, eyes feeling stuck in their sockets.

"You remember this one, right?" A device, familiar. Close. "It's a shame the government didn't approve. There's so many applications regarding short-term paralysis."

Paralysis. That's why he couldn't move, why it felt like he was fighting something invisible that was stronger than him, pinning him down, reducing all of his limbs to nothingness. 

Hands, touching him, squeezing his face and turning it to face.. Obie?

"Ah, Tony, when I ordered the hit on you," he said as he took out his earbuds, "I was worried that I was killing the golden goose."

Tony had barely any time to process the betrayal, process the fact that he was stuck with shrapnel in his heart because of Obie when he leaned over him, leg up on the sofa with some sort of extractor. It was placed above his arc reactor and Tony's blood ran impossibly colder.

"But, you see, it's just.." Extracted. Tony gasped, couldn't help but gasp. It was being taken. "Fate, that you survived that."

The light of the arc reactor shone in Tony's face as it was pulled out of his chest, the wire still attached. Obie- Obadiah looked at it with glee, pride as if he made the device on his own. Tony couldn't see a single ounce of sympathy, of regret or loss, on Obadiah's face for what he was doing.

"You had one last golden egg to give."

He wanted to scream.

"You really think," Obadiah put an arm on the sofa, leaning closer to Tony, "that just because you have an idea, it belongs to you?"

Tony willed his tongue to move, to stop sitting idle in his mouth. He wanted to fight back, at least verbally. And whilst he struggled, the man above him just smirked, looking up and down and Tony in a way that scared him more than having the arc reactor taken.

"Your father, he helped give us the atomic bomb. Now what kind of world would it be today if he was as selfish as you?" 

Obadiah yanked the arc reactor out fully, Tony's body flinching unwillingly. He gasped as much as he could with the paralytic in his system. They both stared at the reactor, Obadiah detaching it from the extractor and twisting it in his hands.

"Oh, it's beautiful.. Oh, Tony, this is your ninth symphony." He sat himself down, leaning into the brunet, putting the arc reactor in front of his face. "This your legacy. A generation of weapons, with this at its heart. Weapons that will help steer the world back on course, put the balance of power in our hands."

Obadiah moved away from Tony, his hot breath finally away from the brunet's face. He wanted it to be over, he wanted the man he once trusted to leave, to get away from him so he could go get the original arc reactor and stop him. Take back his 'last golden egg'. He couldn't let Obadiah win.

"I wish you could've seen my prototype." He put the reactor into a case. "It's not as uh, well, it's not as conservative as yours."

Obadiah stood up and walked away, and Tony willed his fingers to move. They weren't moving, but he knew the paralytic could only last so long.

"Well, Tony." He turned around. "There is one more golden egg you cold give me. See, you wouldn't exactly be giving it to me. I'd be taking it from you."

What more could he possibly take? 

The older man smirked as he lifted up his leg onto the couch and leaned into Tony again, like he did earlier. This time, he got closer, his breath fanning Tony's lips. He felt hot and sweaty before, but he was disgusted when Obadiah's lips pressed against Tony's.

He couldn't fight back, couldn't move a single bone in his body, as Stane pushed his tongue into Tony's mouth, kissing the dying man until he really did feel like he was dying. His breath was returned to him shortly, but it still felt like he was dying.

"You were always a pretty little thing, Tony.." Obadiah grinned as he ran his fingers down Tony's chest, brushing over the arc reactor socket on purpose. "Your father was one thing, but you, Tony. You always made me so aroused."

Could the paralytic prevent him from throwing up?

"I've wanted you since you got that loud mouth of yours. When you went off to MIT and came back that summer, a little slut for anyone who would have you, anyone but me. All you had to do was ask me, Tony, and you could've had a real man show you real pleasure."

Tony was fourteen when he went to MIT. He felt absolutely revolted realising that Stane had been preying on him since he was a child, a minor. And now he couldn't do anything as the man had began to undress him.

He was completely still, and had never felt so exposed when Stane had removed his bottoms and underwear too. Cold air hit his legs, and then colder hands touched his skin. He'd never felt so powerless in his life.

"I've always wondered how you'd feel, Tony." He caressed the brunet's inner thighs. "I've always wondered what it'd feel like to be inside you."

Cold, dry fingers pushed their way into him, and Tony felt like he'd been split open. He wasn't prepared, mentally nor physically. He didn't think he'd want to find his other arc reactor after this.

"I would never do this to you without asking first, but you're so helpless and weak and you'll die anyway. Why not?" He licked his lips, unzipping his slacks with his free hand. "You owe this to me after all. Teasing me your whole life, fucking anyone and everyone but me. You know I deserve this. You know you deserve this."

Tears. Hot tears ran down his cold face. He couldn't talk, couldn't move, could barely breathe, but he could scream when Obadiah entered him suddenly. He screamed loudly as the man thrusted immediately, not giving Tony time to even adjust.

Something hot ran down his legs, staining the sofa. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Obadiah had torn him, and that he was bleeding because of it.

"God, Tony, you feel so good." Stane pushed harder, making Tony feel despite his paralysis. "So tight, so breakable. Shame I never did this before. Shame I'll only be able to fuck you once."

His fingers began to tremble, but he tried not to show it. He was getting a little bit of his movement back, and it only made his body hurt more. 

"Such a pretty little thing you are, Tony." Stane groaned as he felt himself nearly finish. "Such a good little fuck. I'm glad I was the one to take your virginity, give you an experience before you die."

This is not a fucking experience.

Tony wanted to shout. He couldn't even tell Stane that he wasn't feeling anything at all, nothing but pain. That the man was a terrible fuck and he wasn't hard in the slightest from it. It was almost like Stane could read his thoughts.

"If we had more time, I'm sure I could made you feel better." Obadiah ran his fingers over Tony's groin, touching, teasing, trying his best to make Tony feel more disgusted in himself for getting hard. "And look at what he have here. You like this, you like my hands on your skin. You like how I feel inside you. The proof is right here."

Tony knew it wasn't his own fault. He was designed to react in such a way when touched there, so it wasn't his fault. He wouldn't let Obadiah break him any further. 

"Fuck, Tony." Obadiah groaned loudly, releasing inside the paralysed brunet. "Fuck, you were so good for me. I almost regret doing this, just because I want another round, or two."

The older man slowly pulled out, wiping himself down before leaning in and kissing Tony again. He bit the brunet's lip as he did, loving the way blood trickled from his soft lip.

"Don't worry, my boy." Stane made himself presentable, picking up the case. "I'll make sure no one finds you dead with semen dripping down your thighs. I'll have someone clean you up, maybe take a turn with your corpse, and then everyone will think you killed yourself. Let's say... Afghanistan traumatised you a little too much, yes?"

Tony felt his heart start to hurt, his chest feeling sore. He needed a replacement arc reactor quickly, but at the same time, he wanted death. After what just happened, he didn't think he'd ever want to live. The reminder of Afghanistan was his last straw.

He was absolutely welcome to death as Obadiah began to walk away, like nothing at all happened.

"Too bad you had to involve Pepper in this. I would've preferred that she lived."

The door shut, and Tony knew he had to go get the other arc reactor. He wouldn't let Pepper die because of his own selfishness.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was many things. Strong, handsome, confident, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.. and so on. One thing the press had gotten wrong about him was calling him heartless, emotionless, devoid of empathy. For the vast majority of his life, he had people telling him to not show weakness, that he had to always look indifferent.

So he was. But it didn't mean he didn't have weaknesses, that he didn't feel. He felt, a lot more than he wished he did. When he began to process the lack of love in his life, he felt. When his parents died, he felt. When he got kidnapped, had a major body modification without consent, was waterboarded and watched his friend die, he felt. He felt so much.

He didn't care so much that he now had a massive electro-magnet in his chest. It was better than being hooked to a car battery- because at least he wouldn't be shocked with the magnet. The car battery did. When it touched the water. Maybe this one would, but Tony wouldn't know for sure. The old one didn't, but the newer one might.

He hadn't stepped foot in his shower, hadn't let a single drop of water touch him since Afghanistan. The last time he showered, well, had to be when they would hose him down weekly with freezing cold water in the cave. And the last time that happened was the day before he escaped.

So three weeks. It had been three weeks. 

He didn't plan on showering yet.

Tony hadn't been out since the press conference where he stated he'd stop producing weapons. Which meant he'd barely been in the public eye, so he wouldn't have to look presentable. Of course, Rhodey came by often and Pepper and Obadiah were there to keep him informed on how the business was running.

All three of them had questions as to why the hell he was so.. rough looking. Pepper suggested he should try to take care of himself, before retreating in fear of watching Tony have a fit, Rhodey had asked him what was wrong and tried to coax him into showering, which failed completely, and Obie straight up told Tony he was a mess and that he needed to get himself together.

But even so, he'd refused to. His hair had gotten incredibly greasy and dandruff wasn't even hard to miss anymore. His skin was oily and he felt dirty, but he couldn't bring himself to shower. Every time he stepped into the bathroom and had the water turned on, it was an immediate reminder of the waterboarding and he just couldn't do it.

Dry shampoo, baby wipes and perfume were no longer helping. He was filthy, and he felt filthy. Which only made him feel more shit for not being able to go into the shower. He'd been avoiding drinking plain water because it made him feel like his head was being pushed into the bucket again, and he'd clasp his reactor in absolute terror.

If it wasn't for coffee, Tony would be severely dehydrated. Not that coffee was a good substitute for water, though. It was just the sheer difference in temperature and taste that made Tony feel less panicked when drinking it. The water they shoved his head into was cold, salty, whereas the coffee was piping hot and bitter, but nothing like the bucket of water. 

Pepper had tried to convince him to stop drinking so much coffee, and maybe sleep and drink water, and eat food like a regular person, but Tony had ignored her, sent her away and then put himself into lockdown in his workshop. 

As well as being unable to shower, he could hardly sleep either.

Whenever he slept, he felt hands all over him, pushing him into water, and the long-gone feeling of being waterboarded felt more real and more present than ever. The nightmares were far too realistic and he couldn't stand it. He didn't know if it'd be better to sleep or shower, so he decided to do neither.

He did sleep every now and then, but only when he passed out due to sheer exhaustion. He would usually get a few hours of sleep before the nightmares plagued his dreams and he would wake up, shivering yet sweating, his throat hoarse and scratchy. Despite that, he wouldn't drink water.

Four weeks now.

He still didn't plan on showering.

"The board are afraid you've got post-traumatic stress disorder, hence why you suddenly decided not to sell weapons anymore. They think that's why you've been hiding away." 

"Obie said I was supposed to hide to let the flames die down."

"It's doing more harm than good." Pepper leaned against the door. "I think you need to make a public appearance. Soon."

"There's nothing for me to go to." Tony didn't like the idea of leaving, because it meant showering and making himself look sane, act sane, and he was everything but sane. 

"The Maria Stark Foundation Gala is in three days. I think it would look a bit bad if you weren't there." Pepper said slyly. "I think you should go, show everyone Tony Stark isn't hiding and is still in complete control."

"I- Pepper-"

"You are, in complete control, aren't you?"

Tony let out a shaky breath. "I can't do it. I can't go out there and have the press shouting in my face, lights everywhere, people everywhere. I can't do it."

"They're trying to remove you from the board, from being able to make executive decisions regarding the company. They're trying to exile you for PTSD."

"Pepper, I can't."

"Why?" She asked softly. "What happened in Afghanistan, Tony?"

Tony shook his head. The memories felt like they were resurfacing and he couldn't do it. He couldn't talk about what happened. 

"Tony, are you okay?" She asked, though the answer was obvious. She just wanted to see whether or not he'd be honest.

"You know I'm not." He admitted in defeat.

"Will you tell me why? So I can help you?"

"I don't think you can." I don't think you can erase what they did to me and make water less terrifying. I don't think you can fix the hole in my chest and keep the shrapnel out of my heart.

"Tell me what happened." 

"I'll go to the gala." Tony decided, trying to get Pepper to leave him alone. The idea of talking about what happened was terrifying. He'd rather die than try.

Pepper let out a defeated breath. "I'll see you then, Mr Stark."

"See you there, Miss Potts."

The gala was in three hours and Tony had been standing in front of the shower for an hour. He'd been staring at the showerhead, slipping in and out of reality to unwillingly relive memories. He'd been trying, trying so hard to just do it, to shower, because it wasn't that big of a deal.

Yet the moment he turned the water on, he immediately turned it off and ran from the shower like it was poisonous. JARVIS had been trying to coax him out of a panic attack for the past hour, but he still felt like the world was collapsing beneath him. Honestly, he'd rather that happen than having to shower.

"Sir, Colonel Rhodes is asking of your whereabouts."

Tony barely acknowledged his AI, still staring at the showerhead and wondering where it all went wrong. People had gone through so much worse and emerged victorious, stronger than ever, and yet he was still afraid of showering because he was waterboarded in a cave.

He wasn't even strong enough to endure it. He gave in quickly, and yet it still terrified him.

"Tony?"

A warm hand gently touched Tony's cold shoulder, and he snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at his best friend. He didn't care that he was only in his boxers, his arc reactor on show. This was the man he felt safest with.

"Rhodey?"

"Tony, what's wrong?"

Tony didn't like talking about his feelings, or anything remotely sensitive. He coped with humour and intoxicants, and Rhodey knew that. Hearing the concern in Rhodey's voice only made it feel more real, made his problems feel more serious. 

"Do you want to sit down? We'll sit down." Rhodey decided, pushing Tony lightly until his body complied and they were both sat on the heated floor. "Are you okay?"

Tony couldn't help but sob into his best friend's shoulder, his body shaking. He didn't cry when he was kidnapped, and he didn't cry when Yinsen died, and he didn't cry the first time he had a panic attack over water. But here he was, with Rhodey, sobbing to the point he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Rhodey knew better than to ask any questions, instead letting Tony cry. He put an arm around his best friend, rubbing his shoulder bone. Tony had gotten thinner, paler, since Afghanistan. He was already thin from his three months in captivity, but it had only gotten worse in the past four weeks.

After what felt like hours, but was only twenty minutes, Tony finally felt more stable, and his tears began to subside. Rhodey's concern, however, only got worse.

"Tones."

"I can't do it."

"Can't do what?"

"I can't shower."

"Why?"

"They waterboarded me." Tony admitted, voice weak. "I refused to make a Jericho missile for them, so they waterboarded me over and over and- and I was hooked to a fucking car battery so the shrapnel wouldn't cut up my fucking heart, so when they shoved me into the water, sometimes the fucking battery shocked me and- fuck, Rhodey I can't. I can't do it. I can't shower."

Rhodey took a moment to process, trying not to get visibly angry because Tony would take it the wrong way. "You're afraid of feeling like someone's forcing you under the water again, and that the arc reactor might shock you?"

"I haven't- I haven't let a drop of water on this one. I know it probably won't shock me, but I get so caught up in the memories of the car battery and I can't help but be terrified of it." Tony sighed. "Is that stupid?"

"It's not stupid." Rhodey said confidently. He wasn't leaving any room for argument. "It's not stupid at all. You've gone through something traumatic, and you're dealing with it in the only way you know how to. But there's other ways to cope."

"It's annoying, Rhodey." Tony began. "Showering is such an essential thing. Water is everywhere. I haven't showered in over a month and I don't want to. But it's not something you can just not do. I'm fucking disgusting. I look and feel disgusting. I wish they did something else, something that I'd be able to avoid forever and not feel disgusted by it."

"You're not disgusting."

"I feel disgusting."

"Would it help if I stayed with you as you showered?" Rhodey offered. "I've seen the worst parts of you in college. Nothing new."

Tony couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah, actually, I think that would help."

"Proud of you, Tones."

"Don't go soft on me, Honeybear." 

Rhodey smiled. This was the closest to his best friend he'd seen in a while. He wanted nothing more than for Tony to feel happy and secure in himself again, to go around making sexual jokes like it was nothing and flirting with anything that could breathe.

Tony stood up after a minute, before hesitantly walking into the shower. He looked over at Rhodey pleadingly, and the older man understood immediately. He felt no shame in being there as his best friend showered, and didn't feel any shame as he physically showered the distraught billionaire.

There was a moment where Tony panicked and tried to fight Rhodey, but Rhodey, fully-clothed and drenched in water, didn't fight back, only calming Tony down and continuing to carefully pour water over Tony, avoiding his face. He got Tony to sit down on the floor of the shower and lean his head back as far as he could, and then washed Tony's greasy hair for him.

Once his hair was out of the way, Rhodey towel dried the soft locks until they were no longer dripping water onto Tony's face, and by that point, Tony felt okay to shower by himself. But Rhodey didn't leave, just in case Tony couldn't cope. 

"I love you." Tony said when he was finally done showering.

"Love you too, Tones."

Pepper Potts was, though she didn't say or show it, surprised when Tony actually made an appearance at the gala, like he said he would. Rhodes was right next to him, wearing a suit rather than his usual military uniform. 

Others didn't try to hide their shock when the billionaire arrived. Obadiah seemed to be surprised as well, not knowing that Pepper had asked him to go. The paparazzi asked questions and shouted at Tony, but he ignored them and made a beeline for Pepper.

"You look good." She admitted. 

"You didn't like the homeless-looking Tony Stark?"

"I've seen homeless people who looked better than you did." 

"Ouch." He joked. "Glad you've been running the fort without me. I appreciate it."

Pepper knew that he meant it sincerely, despite saying it in a jokey manner. "Of course. Will that be all, Mr Stark?"

"That'll be all, Miss Potts."

Chapter Text

Tony Stark grew up hating Captain America because of his father. Howard would always tell Tony he wasn't worth anything, that Captain America was better in every way. He always said he wished Captain America was his son and not Tony, because at least then he'd have a son to be proud of.

So, because of this, Tony stopped idolising Captain America and began to hate him instead. He hated Howard for never being in his life, instead going on searches for the frozen super-soldier. He wanted Captain America to stay dead forever, because then maybe Howard would finally move on and maybe love his actual son instead.

But that never happened, and Howard died without finding the lost soldier.

Tony was beyond enraged when he found out they found Captain America, and he swore he'd never let the man get to him. He promised himself to stay away from Captain America, for the sake of his own sanity. It wouldn't help to see a walking reminder of his father's terrible parenting.

And then that walking reminder became his teammate, and they almost died together. Tony almost died, and Captain America was there when he woke up, and Tony couldn't hate him. He tried, he really did, but he couldn't. 

Captain America was the epitome of perfection, and Tony understood why Howard loved him so much. He saw why he was constantly compared to the super-soldier. He deserved every good title he'd been given.

Tony resented Captain America, but he was slowly falling in love with Steve Rogers.

There was a lot of tension between Tony and Steve, and Steve lived up to the blond stereotype of being completely blind. He didn't realise the reason why Tony riled him up so much was because the tension between them was sexual tension.

Tony was undoubtedly handsome, and looked very good next to Steve. Tony was smart, funny, quick-witted and sarcastic, and though it drove Steve up the wall most of the time, he loved it. He adored Tony's personality, Tony's looks, everything about Tony and more. There was something electrifying about Tony Stark, and Steve couldn't get enough.

Tony realised first, of course, but he didn't want to do anything about it. He acted with his head, not his heart, and though he was often impulsive and reckless, he was not going to ruin whatever he had with Steven Grant Rogers. 

Luckily Steve acted with his heart, and did not have as much self-control as Tony. 

One night, when they were sparring in the gym, and Tony wouldn't stop provoking Steve, the blond couldn't control himself any longer. He pushed Tony back into the nearest wall, grabbed his face and kissed him. And Tony, though beyond surprised, kissed back immediately.

They were sweaty for more than one reason that night. 

Tony was insecure. He would never admit it, nor show it, but he was insecure. He was so fucking insecure it was unbelievable. He was terrified that whatever he had with Steve was just sex to the blond. He wanted love with Steve, but he didn't want to talk about it.

He preached that communication was key, but he was terrible at communicating. (But shouldn't he practice what he preached?)

Natasha was the one who ended up making Tony talk to Steve. It had only been a few weeks of Tony rapidly spiralling whilst having some mind-breaking sex with a super soldier, and Natasha had already figured out that Tony liked Steve, and wanted more than just sex. Not only had she figured it out, but she had also pressured Tony into communicating.

"I want you." Tony said simply. "Not just to have sex with. Don't get me wrong, the sex is amazing, and I am always down to be fucked by you, but I want more than that. I want you, as a- a partner, boyfriend, whatever you wanna call it. Just, more than sex."

"I want you, Tony." Steve said softly. "I thought you just wanted sex. I didn't think it was anything more than that, so I just let myself have whatever I could have from you. But if you'll give me all of you, I'll give you all of me."

"Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you."

"I understood that reference."

Tony rolled his eyes, just like he did back on the helicarrier. But he couldn't help but feel beyond euphoric when Steve kissed him again, and it was passionate but gentle this time. He almost preferred it over the rough, lustful kisses.

The honeymoon phase was everything. Everyone thought Tony and Steve were perfect, and Tony couldn't help but agree. He was in love with Steven Grant Rogers. Tony loved Steve, everyone loved them together. They were perfect.

Six months into their relationship, Tony didn't feel so perfect anymore. 

Part of the reason why everyone approved of Steve and Tony so much was because Tony was a better person with Steve. Tony would sleep more, eat more, work less, and spend more time with people than alone, working with concerningly loud music in the background. And Tony stopped drinking.

So naturally, people really approved of Tony and Steve. Steve brought out the best in Tony.

Tony brought out the worst in Steve.

A lot of the time, Tony let his insecurities get the best of him. He'd question why Steve dated him and it would end in screaming matches, when all Tony wanted was a bit of reassurance. Steve would end up with bloody knuckles from hitting punching bags all night, and Tony would end up with dark undereye bags from staying up and working all night to avoid his depressive feelings.

But they would always kiss and make up after, and Tony would pretend like it never happened. For the sake of his sanity, he had to pretend it never happened.

When Steve first hit Tony, Tony didn't know how to react. They were arguing, because Tony was having a bad day and he didn't want to talk to anyone. Steve saw this as disrespectful, and so they fought over it.

"I'm sorry I'm not fucking perfect like you. I can have bad days, you know?" Tony shouted. "Just because you're the epitome of perfection and you can do no wrong, does not mean you can berate me for messing up a little."

"You can't be mad at me for wanting to know why my boyfriend is ignoring me." 

"I'm not- I wasn't ignoring you, I was ignoring everyone. Because I'm having a bad fucking day." Tony spat. "But you can't relate because the only bad day you've had was seventy years-"

It was so fast that, if not for the stinging pain in his cheek, Tony wouldn't have even noticed it. But he had, and so had Steve. He had the same look on his face that he did when he broke one of Tony's heavy-duty punching bags, and Tony couldn't do anything but stay completely still.

"You hit me."

The drastic change in Tony's volume was what made Steve soften up, unclenching his fists and relaxing his face. "Tony, oh my god, I'm so sorry."

"You hit me." 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you just- you brought up the ice, Tony."

"I did." Tony realised, forgetting about the pain in his face. "Oh, shit, Steve- I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry, I just- I didn't mean to. I- this is why I distance myself from people on bad days, because I know I'll say something I shouldn't. I'm sorry, Steve-"

"It's okay." Steve stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Tony. He didn't notice the way Tony flinched and stepped just a little bit backwards. "I just- I love you, Tony. I don't want you to hide away from me. I want you to be able to come to me on bad days."

"You what?"

"I love you." 

If Steve could love someone as fucked up as Tony, then he really couldn't be mad that he got physical just this once, right? 

"I love you too, Steve. So fucking much."

Tony covered the bruise up with makeup for the next few weeks. An angry super-soldier packed a mean punch, but he'd been gentle enough to not break any of the bones in Tony's face. So clearly, Tony had nothing to complain about. He'd seen what Steve could do to a person. He was lucky.

Steve loved him, the world's biggest fuck-up. If Steve could love him, then Tony could ignore the punch and hide it, because Steve was perfect, and he couldn't ruin that. No one noticed the makeup, but they did notice Steve being more loving.

"He loves you?" Clint teased, one night. "I wonder how."

A part of Tony wondered the same thing.

That one-off punch ended up being more than just a one-off punch. 

Tony, when he got comfortable with people, ended up being more annoying than usual. That was just how he worked. But Steve didn't like it, and, nine times out of ten, their shouting matches would end up with Tony bruised. 

Tony always forgave him, though, because every time, Steve apologised profusely and told Tony how much he loved him. And Tony thought being loved was a difficult enough chore, so if it meant Steve needed to get his anger out sometimes, then so be it.

Steve was Captain America, the perfect super-soldier. Tony would accept anything from him, because Steve loved him.

Eventually, when Steve realised Tony would just take the abuse without question, he stopped apologising and telling Tony he loved him. And even so, Tony would smile through the pain and cover up the bruises, and act like nothing was wrong.

Tony valued the rare times Steve was nice to him enough to pretend like the times Steve wasn't nice (which was far too often by the time they had their one year anniversary) never happened. The abuse was insignificant.

The little bit of love he got wasn't.

Annoyingly, the problem with dating Captain America, was that because their reputations were so drastically different, if they had a fight, everyone assumed it was Tony's fault. Tony was the arrogant, annoying, narcissistic playboy and Steve was Captain America. So of course, Tony was always in the wrong.

On nights where Tony had really bad nightmares, Steve would kick him out because his hearing was so sensitive to Tony's restlessness. And of course, when someone found him sleeping on the sofa - because Steve made sure Tony slept there and not in a spare room - they'd say, "what'd you do now, Tony?" 

If Steve walked around looking ready to murder someone, of course it had to be Tony who made Steve mad. And they'd all say, "go make it up to him, Tony." 

Sometimes Tony thought they knew about the abuse, and was allowing it because Steve was Captain America, the perfect human being. But he didn't blame them, because that was exactly why he allowed the abuse. 

He wouldn't date anyone better than this.

"Tony, I need your help."

"With what?"

"I think- I think we found Bucky."

Tony didn't know how to feel. He knew all about Bucky, because Steve talked about Bucky a lot. He didn't want to be pushed away because Bucky was back. It'd be like Howard all over again. "Oh."

"Can you help me find him?" Steve asked. "You're the best with tech out of everyone I know."

"Yeah, yeah of course." Tony smiled. "I just need to finish this prototype Pepper asked for last week and then I'll get to it."

"Really?"

"What?"

Steve grit his teeth, and Tony knew what was coming. "I ask you for one thing, as your boyfriend. And yet you choose your ex over me."

"I'm- I'm not choosing my ex." Tony said in disbelief. "It's just that we've got to present this tomorrow and I'd rather get it over and done with so I can give you my full time and attention after."

"What, so this is like a chore?"

"What?" Tony could not believe how far Steve was twisting his words now. 

"You have no fucking respect for me, Tony, I swear to god-"

"Language." Tony recited like it was muscle memory. 

Steve really wasn't feeling it, because Tony was immediately backhanded, the force of it making his tooth catch on his lip. He tasted copper in his mouth and grimaced, realising he'd cut his lip. 

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Steve spat. "You're so fucking annoying it's unbelievable. I wonder how I put up with your unbearable ass sometimes."

Tony bit his already-bleeding lip to stop himself from saying anything stupid. He'd barely healed from two nights ago, when Steve got pissed at Tony for- for god knows what, and ended up kicking the shit out of him. He was just lucky that Steve had some sort of self-control and didn't hurt Tony as hard as he really could.

"I'm sorry."

"You say that every time, but you aren't." Steve punched Tony's collarbone. "You just keep doing the same shit over and over and say you're sorry, which means fucking nothing. You can't just say sorry and keep doing what you're apologising for again and again."

If Tony was thinking rationally, he would've told Steve that he used to apologise for hitting Tony, before hitting him again. But he wasn't thinking rationally. 

"What- what can I do to show I'm sorry?"

"Find Bucky, now." Steve demanded. "I don't give a shit about your stupid prototype."

Tony didn't know if calming Steve down was worth a disappointed Pepper. But he didn't really have a choice.

"Okay."

Steve stayed in the workshop for five hours, watching Tony do his thing. He kept a threatening hand on the genius' shoulder the whole time, squeezing the tender skin on his collarbone where he'd punched him earlier. Tony would wince and try to move away, but it only made Steve hold tighter.

And then, when Tony finally found Bucky, Steve was gone without a word. Not even a thank you.

Tony wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sleep for the next week, but he still had the prototype to do. His collarbone hurt like hell, and now so did his shoulder. His lip stopped bleeding at some point; he hadn't even noticed.

Sighing, he dove into work, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he moved. 

Steve didn't come back for a week, and when Tony finally got a chance to sleep once his work was done, he dreamt of his childhood. He dreamt of wondering when Howard would come home and pay attention to him, instead of Captain America.

He woke up in a cold sweat, and avoided sleeping for a while after.

James Buchanan Barnes was welcomed into the tower, with Steve Rogers by his side. The Avengers crowded around the man, excited to meet Captain America's best friend. No one noticed Tony being left on the sidelines.

When Tony finally got a chance to greet Bucky, Steve looked at him with an expression so familiar, and Tony backed off. He made an excuse about having to go finish one of his projects, welcomed Bucky into the building and ran off.

Steve came to the workshop a little while after, took his frustration out on his boyfriend, and left.

Tony slept alone that night.

For the next few weeks, Tony barely saw Steve. He understood that Steve had to deal with Bucky adjusting to normal life, and not being the Winter Soldier anymore. But he hadn't seen Steve at all, and he missed him. 

He missed the shouting, the fighting, the hitting. That's how long Steve spent away from him.

Or maybe it wasn't that long, and he was just too used to his 'perfect' relationship.

His bruises finally got to heal without more being added. He got a few weeks to just heal and relax, but he couldn't really relax when he felt like Steve would appear out of nowhere and remind him of what he was healing from. He felt like he couldn't breathe loudly, just in case Steve came and hit him for it.

He really hated the distance. It felt like Howard all over again. At first, with the searching relentlessly for someone who was supposed to be dead, and now, with the distance. Living in the tower but hardly seeing each other was a stark contrast to his childhood, with how he felt around his father.

He wanted Steve to give him attention again. He didn't care if that meant being hurt, he just wanted Steve back. If there was one thing Tony hated more than anything, it was feeling like he was unwanted, or a second choice. Was he just a rebound for Bucky? Was Steve ever in love with Tony, or was it just his way of getting over Bucky?

After a good month of not seeing Steve, Tony managed to bump into him on the way to his workshop. He'd been afraid to work all night just in case Steve came to their bedroom and got mad at Tony for not being there, but after a month he gave up with trying to sleep. He made his best work when he was struggling with something.

"Steve?"

"Tony." Steve nodded and kept walking like Tony was a mere associate.

"Steve, wait." Tony ran after him, holding onto the super-soldier's arm to stop him.

Steve looked down at Tony's hand, at Tony, and rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"

"I've- I'm- where have you been?"

"In the tower, where else?" 

"No, I mean- I haven't seen you in ages." Tony said quietly. "You haven't been sleeping in our bed, and I've hardly seen you around the tower. Where've you been?"

"I've been with Bucky." Steve said vaguely. "You know, my best friend who suffered from decades of mental torture and brainwashing? I've been helping him adjust to the real world, because he's not used to it. Do you have a problem with that?"

Tony swallowed nervously. "No, I just- I've missed you."

"Get a grip, Tony, the world doesn't revolve around you." Steve scoffed. "I know you're a massive attention whore but you need to accept that not everyone can smother you constantly. There are more important things to take care of than your pathetic whining and neediness."

"I know the world doesn't revolve around me." Tony stared at his shoes uncomfortably, refusing to look at his boyfriend's angry expression. "I know that, I just- I'm allowed to miss you."

"You're so clingy it's unbelievable." Steve shook his head. "I've got places to be, better people to talk to."

"You haven't talked to me in over a month." Tony sighed. "Can't you just talk to me for a little bit? I really have missed you."

"You want my attention that badly?" Steve laughed, sadistically. "Fine."

Tony thought he'd gotten somewhere, but then Steve grabbed his wrist, hard, and dragged him to the workshop. Steve barely waited for the doors to close before hitting Tony, first with a light (for Steve) punch. Steve started to lose the restraint he had over his strength, and he went too far. 

The sound of Tony's bones breaking was what snapped Steve out of it.

Steve looked down at Tony, who was sitting on the floor with a swollen eye, half of his face a stinging red, and an arm wrapped around his ribs. It didn't take a genius to realise Steve had broken Tony's ribs, which he'd never done before. He'd always been careful enough to not actually break any of Tony's bones.

But he had.

Tony was breathing slowly, trying to hide the fact that this hurt. He couldn't complain, because he sought Steve out, spoke to him and then provoked him. Steve hurting him and accidentally losing control was not Steve's fault, but Tony's.

"Tony?" 

"It's fine." Tony stood up, ignoring the creaking in his ribs. He felt the arc reactor digging into his broken ribs and, oh fuck, it was not fine. "I'm gonna go see, erm, my doctor."

"What are you gonna tell him?"

"I got mugged."

Steve smiled, and kissed Tony on the forehead before leaving. Something felt so fucking wrong about Steve being happy that Tony was going to cover up the abuse, but this was Tony's fault. Besides, he wanted Steve's attention, so who was he to complain now that he got some?

Tony had to get one of his suits to take him to his doctor, because walking with the pain in his chest was unbearable. He came close to passing out on the flight there, the feeling of his chest pushing against the titanium-alloy suit worsening the pain, but he made it. 

True to his words, he blamed his broken ribs on a mugging where his suit didn't get to him fast enough. His doctor had no old wounds to look at to make her suspicious of the lie, so she just treated Tony as best as she could. 

"Bed rest, Tony, I mean it. Broken ribs are bad enough when you don't have an electromagnet in your chest." She ordered. "Please, take it easy okay? No strenuous activity, nothing that will tire you out. And I don't think it'd be a good idea to go flying in the suit for a while. Let yourself heal, okay?"

Tony sighed and agreed. He flew back to the tower in the suit, which was a bad idea because it only hurt more when he was actively disobeying his doctor's orders. He found himself sitting in the workshop, ignoring JARVIS and sitting at the desk. He tried to do something, anything, but the pain was really fucking overwhelming.

Tony sighed, and even that hurt a little, and made his way to his empty bedroom. 

He'd be having a long few weeks from then on.

On a particularly bad night, Steve almost killed Tony. 

For context, it wasn't on purpose. Steve was having a hard time coping with the fact that his best friend would never truly be the same as he was before they both 'died'. That day specifically, Bucky was struggling with his prosthetic arm, not just physically but emotionally, because of who gave him that arm.

Steve had to retrain Bucky from tearing the prosthetic off. 

That night, Bucky went to sleep due to medication. He slept on pain meds and sleep meds, ones that didn't burn through Bucky's serum-induced metabolism, unlike Steve's. And then Steve, who usually ended up sleeping next to Bucky (in a completely platonic way), went back to the bed he shared with his boyfriend.

He tried to restrain himself, but Tony was just there, sleeping so peacefully. So, Steve picked Tony up by the throat and slammed the abruptly awoken genius into the nearest wall. Tony, wide-eyed and bleary, held onto the hand on his throat by reflex, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Steve?"

"Shut the fuck up." Steve slammed Tony into the wall again, Tony's shoulder blades taking the brunt of the force. "You're fucking pathetic."

Tony really didn't know what was going on, and if he wasn't fighting for his life, he would've assumed this was a bad dream. Steve was pissed, though, because he was swearing, and also strangling Tony, unprovoked. Usually Tony got a word in before the violence began.

"If you were better, none of this would've happened."

Tony was beyond confused. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but it felt like he really couldn't breathe now. It was harder to breathe with the arc reactor taking up so much space in his chest, giving him health issues similar to asthma. So, if he was without the arc reactor, he would've lasted a bit longer, but he could not, not with the damn arc reactor.

And to make things worse, his ribs were still broken. They were close to healing, but something told Tony that he wouldn't get out of this without rebreaking them.

He began kicking his legs, fighting helplessly to get Steve to let go. He was able to kick Steve's shins, but not hard enough to elicit a response from the super soldier. Instead, the blond stared into Tony's eyes, squeezing the sensitive skin on Tony's throat just a little bit harder.

And, fuck, Tony really thought he was going to die.

"Don't waste your life, Stark."

He hadn't done enough. He wasn't allowed the sweet mercy of death just yet. Even though, some nights, when Steve really hurt him, or made him do things he really didn't feel like doing, Tony begged and begged and begged to whoever was out there to just take him, to end his suffering. But now that he was so close to death, he knew he couldn't go just yet.

He had to earn his death. He hadn't done enough to be allowed to close his eyes for the last time. He had the world to repent to for all his sins.

Tony kept fighting, until it was completely useless, and he gave up. Just before he was sure he'd pass out, Steve finally let go. But there was no remorse on his face, no shock or surprise over what he'd almost done. He seemed angrier, because he couldn't keep going.

Tony fell to the floor, gasping for air. He felt like he was about to have a panic attack, which would be even worse because all he needed was just a minute, a short break, some damn time to recover from what just happened. His throat felt sore and scratchy but he kept taking deep breaths, afraid he'd get that basic right taken away again.

Steve picked Tony up by the neckline of his shirt, stared into Tony's eyes, and then slammed the brunet's head into the wall behind him. 

One hit was all it took to knock Tony unconscious.

Tony woke up in agony. 

He woke up in his bed, clothes missing, throat sore and scratchy, head screaming, his back aching and his ribs feeling broken again. He forced himself to stand up, ignoring the searing pain that shot through his body as he did. 

Looking in the bathroom mirror made him feel like throwing up.

His throat was dotted in purply-blue, splotchy bruises. His face was bruised, his wrists were covered in bracelet-like bruises, his ribs were covered in big, dark marks, and they had to be broken again. His hips were covered in deep bruises as well, and his back, though he couldn't see, must've been bruised as well. His shoulder blades ached every time he moved his arms. 

When he touched the back of his head, he felt dried blood matting his hair. 

Fuck, Tony didn't deserve this. He loved Steve, but he didn't deserve this. He didn't even know why Steve had come to hurt him. In fact, this was the first time Tony had seen Steve since the workshop incident. Tony didn't even get to ask any questions, figure out why Steve was so angry.

For the first time in a while, since the abuse started, Tony found himself crying. Ugly crying on the bathroom floor, not even able to sit down comfortably. He had accepted that the relationship was a bit rough at times, but Tony didn't want to accept this.

He cried because once upon a time, Steve was loving and kind and caring. He used to hold Tony with gentle hands, kiss Tony with a fiery passion. He used to make sure Tony took care of himself, because Tony was incapable of doing so on his own.

But now?

Tony couldn't remember the last time Steve had held him, or kissed him, or was just nice to him. Tony wanted attention from his boyfriend, but he didn't want it like this. He thought he could settle for punches and slaps if it meant having Steve's attention, but now he wasn't sure. 

Everything fucking hurt, and not just physically.

Tony didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"Help him." 

Tony looked up and saw two super soldiers in his workshop. He wasn't ready for visitors, but luckily he'd been prepared, wearing a turtleneck to cover up the deep bruises on his throat. In a day, they'd gotten darker and more painful, and talking was agonising. 

"His arm, there's something wrong with it. Help him."

Tony stared at Bucky, trying to figure out what was wrong from a distance. He didn't know how he could work on Bucky's arm when everything in his body hurt, but he'd have to, to avoid Steve hurting him even more.

And also, because Tony was a good man, and he put others before him.

"Come closer so I can take a look, please." Tony said quietly, trying to cover up the scratchiness of his voice. 

Steve watched from the sofa, gritting his teeth when Tony started feeling up the arm, trying to figure out what was wrong. He hated seeing Tony touch his best friend, but there was nothing he could do about it. Bucky needed help.

After a minute or so of Tony trying to figure out what was wrong, Tony came up with a solution.

"This thing is useless." Tony said bluntly. "Sorry, but it's bad. It's old and damaged, and there's no way you can keep it on. I can make you a new one if you give me a couple days, and if you leave the arm here so I can recreate it as accurately as possible."

"I'm not gonna be able to wear it?"

"This thing is very obviously hurting you, and keeping it on isn't going to make the pain any better. It'll just make things worse." 

Bucky took a deep breath and then nodded. "Okay. Take it off, please."

"You sure you're okay with this?"

"I'm sure."

Tony smiled reassuringly before taking the arm off as delicately as he could. There was visible relief shown in Bucky's face after the arm was taken off, the pain dissipating. Tony wished he could get rid of his injuries so simply, but he couldn't. 

"Give me a few days. I'll call you down when it's done."

"Thanks, Stark."

"No problem, Barnes."

Bucky smiled at Tony and walked out, expecting Steve to follow. The blond waited for a second before going up to Tony, leaning down and whispering something in his ear.

"You fuck this up, at all, in any way that could hurt him, and I will fucking kill you. Understood?"

Tony felt his blood run cold. 

"Understood."

Tony hadn't slept in three straight days, surviving on coffee and painkillers. His head hurt like hell, from Steve and from his non-stop working, lack of sleep and food. Working didn't help all the injuries, instead making them worse. But Tony was terrified of Steve hurting him, so he ignored all the old injuries to prevent any new ones.

At last, the arm was finally finished. It was sleek, black and almost identical in size and shape to the old one. Bucky had come to the workshop to have a look at the process, and Tony made Bucky sit down so he could record the measurements of his real arm. 

The prosthetic was probably identical to Bucky's real arm, save for the colour and general lack of humanness to it. Tony figured out a way to make the arm feel more human, though, by adding touch receptors, meaning Bucky would be able to feel. Tony wasn't sure it was a good idea, but he added it anyway.

He could always reverse it if Bucky didn't like it.

Tony was excited when he got JARVIS to call Bucky down, but then as Bucky walked in, anxiety settled in and Tony was terrified of messing it up. Steve's threat replayed over and over in his head, the bruises on his body reminded him of just how literal Steve could get.

"This is it?"

"Yeah."

"It's beautiful." Bucky said, marvelling at how expensive, and high-quality the arm looked. "It's much better than the old one. Especially without the- the star."

"I didn't think you wanted that." Tony said lightly, trying to change the mood. "You ready to try it on?"

Bucky nodded, and Tony began to attach the prosthetic. His joints felt heavy as he did so, and his head felt like it was spinning a bit, but it didn't matter. His issues could wait until he'd sorted Bucky out. 

The attachment didn't take too long, but it definitely took longer than Tony would've taken if he wasn't hurt. His ribs still caused him difficulty, his head was still hurting, and all the physical work he'd done with his arms hadn't helped the pain in his shoulder blades. His wrists were sore and hurt even more from the manual labour.

But it was fine, because the arm was on now, and Tony could rest.

"Fuck, Stark, this is gorgeous." Bucky flexed the prosthetic. "Shit, this feels different."

Tony felt his stomach sink in fear. "Erm, it's a- it- there's touch receptors. Erm, means you can- you can feel, erm, with the arm. Like a human arm, almost. It's not completely identical, but- I mean, I can remove them-"

"No, Stark- shit, Tony, I love it." Bucky had a smile on his face that Tony had never seen before. "Can I touch you?"

"Sure."

Bucky held onto Tony's wrist, and then the smile disappeared. "Stark, your wrist doesn't feel right."

"Probably sprained it in here, or something." Tony lied quickly. "The workshop isn't the safest place to be in."

"Let me take a look, I've got medical training."

Tony wanted to ask questions, but now was not the time. He yanked his wrist out of Bucky's hold and stepped back. "It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"You made me a damn arm, the least I can do is take care of an injury you probably sustained whilst making it." Bucky said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Tony felt his heart racing as Bucky tried to take his arm. There was no way to excuse the bruises on his wrist, not when they were so obviously done by human hand. But he couldn't fight Bucky, because he was tired, hungry, in pain and honestly afraid.

"You really don't need to-"

"Stark." Bucky said, rolling up Tony's sleeve. "Stark, what is this?"

Tony let out a shaky breath, the fear of Bucky knowing becoming far too real. He'd hidden the abuse from everyone he knew for months, maybe even a year by now. And Bucky had talked to him only a few times, and he'd caught on.

"Stark?" Bucky's voice was soft, concerned. "Tony, what happened to you?"

"I don't know."

"You can't not know how this happened." Bucky looked away from the bruises, and into Tony's eyes, seeing the fear in the genius' face. "Tony, who did this to you?"

"No one." 

The realisation dawned on Bucky very quickly. "Tony, did Steve do this to you?"

"No." Tony said far too soon. He should've waited a second or two more. "He wouldn't. He wouldn't do that to me."

Bucky knew Steve too well, knew Steve's impulse control issues, as well as his short temper. He'd seen that Steve had been angry a lot recently, because of everything Bucky was going through. He just assumed Steve took out his anger on the strong, Stark-designed punching bags.

He didn't realise the punching bag was Stark.

"JARVIS, would you call Steve down here for me?"

"I do not believe that is wise, Sergeant Barnes."

"Do it anyway."

Tony felt his blood run cold, again. Fear settled deep down into his bones, his body beginning to tremble unwillingly. He'd gone pale, his breathing becoming slightly erratic. His ribs hurt like hell, and his unstable breathing was not helping. 

And Bucky was still holding his hand, the bruise on show for anyone to see.

"Bucky?" Steve called out. "Did you get the new arm put on?"

"Yeah, come look." 

Steve walked into the workshop, up to his boyfriend and best friend and felt himself still as he saw the bruises on Tony's wrist. "What's that?"

"Come on, I know you know." Bucky teased. "You did it, didn't you?"

"I would never-"

"Steve, I know you." Bucky rolled his eyes. "You're my best mate. I'd never judge you for something like this. Besides, this shit was fine back in our day."

Tony knew Steve had been caught up on modern law, and that domestic violence was illegal. He knew Steve knew times had changed. And here Bucky was, acting like it was completely okay, in front of Tony. Tony wanted to break the stupid arm he'd made.

"They don't allow it now."

"Didn't stop you though." Bucky laughed.

"Yeah, guess not."

Tony felt sick. Steve had admitted to hurting Tony, and Bucky was laughing.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"You're fucking sick." 

Tony didn't expect Bucky to finally let go, only to punch Steve in the face. He stood still, horrified as Bucky lunged at Steve, flooring him and punching him over and over and over. Steve tried to defend himself, but he never attacked, and it felt way too familiar to Tony.

"Is this how it happened?" Bucky asked. "You just hit him over and over and over whilst he just tries to defend himself?"

"Fucking pussy never did. Just let me hit him." Steve spat.

"You're fucking sick." Bucky kept hitting. "I thought you were the same man as before, a good man, but clearly I didn't know you before. If this wasn't illegal here- fuck, Steve, I can't believe this."

"He deserves it."

"No one deserves to get hurt by someone they love."

Tony watched as his boyfriend got a taste of his own medicine, but it wasn't satisfying at all. Tony didn't feel any better seeing Steve get hurt. Instead, he just saw himself as Steve, and almost felt the punches like they were his own. 

"Barnes, quit it." Tony said eventually, because he really couldn't watch it anymore. "Stop hitting him."

"He deserves it."

"No he doesn't." 

Tony walked up to Bucky, holding onto the prosthetic arm. Bucky reacted fast, holding onto the neckline of Tony's shirt as a reflex. Once he realised who he was holding, he let go, feeling sick at the sight of Tony's terrified face.

"This bastard hit you, and he's not ashamed at all. Not an ounce of fucking guilt."

Steve stood up, spat out blood and wiped his face. Bucky was about to hit him again, and Tony stepped in the way, covering Steve. 

"Please don't."

"Why the fuck are you protecting him?" Bucky shouted. "He hurt you. I know him, and I know that those bruises on your wrist aren't the only ones. You wearing a turtleneck doesn't make me any less suspicious."

"I love him." Tony said weakly. "I don't want you to hurt him."

"But he hurt you. That's not love, Tony."

"It's fine." Tony shrugged. "I deserve it."

Bucky only seemed more distressed by that answer. "What the fuck have you done to him, Steve?"

"I didn't do shit."

"You made him believe he deserves it." Bucky stared at the man he once called his best friend. "I don't know who you are anymore."

"I'm still the same as I was before."

"That doesn't make it any better." Bucky held onto Tony's shoulder, gently. "Let's go."

"I love him."

"I know you do." Bucky smiled sadly. "But it doesn't mean what he did is okay."

"He loves me."

Bucky looked back at Steve, and shook his head. "He doesn't, Tony. I'm sorry."

Tony tried to stay stood where he was, to not leave Steve, even though his mind was screaming at him to take this opportunity and run as far as he could. But his head was spinning, and suddenly Bucky was a little blurry.

Bucky had to carry an unconscious Tony out of the workshop. 

Tony hated the smell of hospitals. He knew he was in one the moment he woke up, even before he opened his eyes, just from the smell. He stayed lying down on the bed with his eyes closed as he tried to recall what had happened.

And then it all came back, and he felt his heart drop.

Bucky knew. 

And he tried to help.

"Tony?"

Tony knew that voice. It was his favourite voice in the whole world. 

"Rhodey?"

"Yeah, Tones, it's me." Rhodey held onto Tony's hand. "Barnes called me and Pep."

Tony felt sick. "What'd he say?"

"He said something bad happened, that it's been happening for a while." Pepper said. "He told us he'd let you say it. He wasn't sure if you would, so he's waiting outside in case you try to play the whole I can deal with it myself act, and not tell us."

Tony finally opened his eyes, looking at his two favourite people. It'd been a while since he saw Rhodey, meaning he must've taken a break from active military duty to come see him. Tony didn't know if he could lie to their faces when Rhodey had flown out to see him.

"What do you know?"

"Doctor said your ribs are broken, and that you passed out from not eating or sleeping in a while, and from high blood pressure. And there's a lot of other bruises scattered across your body."

Tony sighed. "And you want to know where they came from?"

"Yeah."

Tony stared at the door, half-hoping Bucky would come in and do the talking for him. If he said it, if he admitted it, then it was real. Everything Steve had done to him would be real, and people would know, and it would be over. There'd be no way for Steve and Tony to get back together if he admitted it.

"Can Bucky say it?"

Rhodey looked at Pepper, both of them confused. Pepper went out and brought Bucky in regardless.

"He doesn't want to say it. He wants you to."

Bucky took a deep breath before speaking. "Steve's been hurting Tony. I don't know how long for, but he admitted it, and he wasn't ashamed or remorseful. He said Tony deserved it."

"I'll kill him." Rhodey said far too calmly. "I'll kill him in a way his stupid serum won't be able to protect him from. Slowly, painfully, torturously."

"Okay, well, let's not." Tony almost laughed.

"You believe him?" Pepper asked. "You believe you deserved it?"

Tony shrugged.

"Oh, Tony." Pepper held his hand, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, that I didn't see. I thought you were happy."

"Everyone thinks that we're perfect." Tony said slowly. "Everyone thinks that he's perfect."

"He's so far from perfect it's unbelievable." Bucky said coldly. "I'm sorry I didn't see what he was doing."

"I didn't want anyone to."

"Tony, why didn't you leave him?"

"Because I love him." Tony felt like crying. "I love him, and he loves me."

"If he really loved you, you wouldn't be sat in a hospital bed right now." Rhodey said simply. "Tony, I'm sorry, but he does not love you. People who love you don't hurt you."

"I deserved it."

Rhodey closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. "Tony, there is nothing you could've done to deserve to be beaten by a super soldier, someone who was supposed to love you. He's a fucking super soldier and he's been hurting you."

"It didn't hurt that bad." Tony lied. "He- he didn't- he could've hit me harder."

"And that still doesn't make it right." Pepper almost shouted. "Tony, please, nothing he did was okay. And there are no excuses for it. What he did to you is fucking sick, and you didn't deserve it."

"Steve's perfect. Everyone thinks that we're perfect. I won't get anyone better than him."

"There are so many people who could treat you better, Tony." Pepper sighed. "I loved you, and I still do, if not romantically. And I never hit you."

"He stayed with me despite me being Iron Man."

Pepper was crying now. "I'm sorry, Tony. For not being able to accept that. But it doesn't mean that you deserved the abuse, just because he accepted you as Iron Man."

"Tony, you told me choosing to wear my old arm when it only hurt me wouldn't do any good, that it'd just make things worse." Bucky began. "Don't you see how this relates to you and Steve?"

"I love him." Tony said weakly.

"I know." Rhodey said sadly. "I know."

Chapter Text

Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Emphasis on playboy. He was known for sleeping around, some people had even watched him sleep around before JARVIS had taken down his sex tapes and digitally burned them. 

After Afghanistan, he stopped sleeping around. He started to focus on himself, his new company, his suits and his girl. Pepper was a lovely girlfriend and an excellent business partner, and he trusted her with the company even if he broke up with her, which he wouldn't, because she was the best thing that ever happened to him.

He'd been in a lot of bad relationships, and had an extensive body count. Pepper didn't mind all that, and stayed with him through all his ups and downs, and there were lots of downs. She was a good girlfriend.

Pepper didn't even mind that he was bisexual. She was worried that she wouldn't be enough for him, but Tony had reassured her and she accepted it. She even had the cheek to point out when a man was attractive, just for Tony to agree with her.

And they were fine with that. There was no jealousy, just acceptance.

She was the best girlfriend.

That made him hate himself more when it happened.

He was at a rich people party. He remembered that much. He had two glasses of whiskey, sipping whiskey, since he'd developed a high tolerance during his teenage years. Even after he started drinking less, his tolerance was high and he needed a lot to get him drunk.

So when things went funny, he didn't remember what happened. All he remembered was talking to someone, some guy, and he was on his knees in the bathroom. And then he was being pressed into the mirror, hips bruising against the counter as someone was fucking him from behind. 

Though he looked in the mirror, he couldn't see anything but himself, and even he was blurry. He remembered someone screaming, but maybe that was him. He remembered being tossed to the ground and left there. Happy took him home, maybe. 

JARVIS told him he got into a suit and let JARVIS auto-pilot him to the Tower, because he passed out during the flight. He'd woken up and stumbled into the shower, and he felt something drip down his legs. He blacked out again and woke up, naked, on the floor of his shower. There was no water on his body, and even in the heat, he was still shivering.

"Fuck, Stark, you feel so good. You like this don't you?" 

He stayed there on the ground for a little bit until JARVIS suggested he shower. He let the AI automatically put the water on to the highest setting, the AI knowing him far too well, and he scrubbed his body raw.

He didn't know why he felt disgusting until Pepper came to the shower.

"Honey?"

"Pep?" Tony called out in a weak voice.

"JARVIS told me you were in here." She said. "Told me you'd been in here all night. Are you okay?"

"I think I can go another round. Can't you? I'm sure you'll like it regardless."

He didn't deserve her. He cheated on her, and she was here checking up on him. He got fucked by another man and didn't think about her once. He wasn't even sure he was thinking at all at the time.

"I cheated on you."

"What?"

"I cheated. On you."

Pepper didn't know what to say. "Can we talk about this when you're out of the shower?"

"Sure."

Pepper was on a StarkPad when Tony left the shower. His skin was bright from how hot the water was, and how aggressively he'd scrubbed his skin. He was drying his hair with a towel when he felt like he was going to explode.

"I cheated on you."

"Why?"

Tony didn't know what to say. "I just did." 

"Tony-"

"You're such a fucking slut, Stark. You begged me for this and can't even stay awake enough to thank me. At least I know you liked it, since you came hard. Pepper Potts mustn't be enough for you, hmm?"

"You know what I'm like." Tony shrugged. "Commitment issues. Man whore. It was about time. I thought I'd do this ages ago."

Pepper wanted to ask more. Wanted to tell Tony that his past didn't define him, that he was a better, changed person now. That she wouldn't believe he ever cheated on her.

But he was admitting it.

"Who?"

"Some man."

She was afraid of this in the start. Maybe that's why she left.

Tony didn't need a man. He knew he never needed one to fulfil his bisexuality. He had Pepper, and she was worth burning the world to the ground for. He wouldn't cheat on her just for a man. In fact, she was open to the idea of letting Tony have a one night stand with a man every now and then if it meant their relationship would stay strong.

So the fact that he didn't ask beforehand, didn't get her permission, her consent, made it so much worse. Not only did he cheat, but he did so with a man. He knew how insecure it made her feel to wonder if, physically, she wasn't enough. And he still broke her trust and broke her heart.

"You love this, Stark. Not even fighting back, defending your relationship. God, you feel so good."

Tony locked himself in his workshop for four days after that night, only going to get food because he was close to passing out. He'd ran out of coffee too, and he hadn't slept either. He was a mess.

He knew he deserved it regardless.

"Christ, Tony, what happened to you?"

Tony looked up at Steve, too tired to put on a mask. "Work binge."

"This looks worse than work binge. Your face is bruised." Natasha said. "What really happened?"

His face slammed into the mirror hard. His jaw hurt already, but now his cheekbone felt like it was burning. His face was pushed harder every time he thrusted harder. It hurt. He let it hurt.

Tony's hands trembled as he made his coffee. He didn't want them to notice, so he stayed with his back turned and tried desperately for it to stop. He was afraid of shattering the glass when he picked it up, so he just opted to leave the coffee until his hands stopped shaking.

"Is there anything to eat?"

"Of course, you've not eaten." Bruce remarked. "I'll fix you a plate. Sit down, Tony."

"Sit down, Tony. Sit, or maybe get down on your knees and suck me off."

Tony hated the way his leg started bouncing up and down when he sat. The trembling got worse. He wanted it to stop so badly that, he thought, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to pass out from exhaustion and lack of food.

"You're anxious, Tony." Natasha pointed out. "What's wrong?"

"Pepper came by, didn't she?" Tony asked. JARVIS had informed him. 

"She did." Clint answered. "Said she had something for you, but you were unavailable so she left it here."

"I cheated on her." Tony blurted out. The guilt was gnawing at him. 

"You did what?" Natasha seemed furious. She knew how insecure Pepper was from her time as Natalie. She knew being cheated on could ruin anyone, but especially Pepper. "Why the fuck-"

"Let him talk." Clint said, noticing things weren't as simple as it seemed.

"I cheated on her. With a man. And she left."

Steve raised a brow. "You like men?"

"Who knew you liked men this much, enough to cheat on your CEO for it? Enough to beg me for a good fuck, to make you feel like you should for cheating. Because you know it's worth it. You know you'll like it. You know I make you feel good."

"I do. I did. I don't know. Before Pepper, I used to sleep with anyone, honestly. But then I settled with Pepper and she was all I needed." Tony explained. "I don't know why I cheated."

Natasha and Clint looked at each other with some sort of super-spy eye language. There was more to it and they both knew it.

"You get a dame and you treat her right, Tony." Steve lectured. "You shouldn't have done that to Pepper."

"Aye." Thor agreed. "You shouldn't have done that to your lady. She deserves more than that. I would never do that to Jane."

The guilt worsened, and he left before Bruce could give him something to eat. He passed out the moment he got into the elevator, and JARVIS had to get a suit to carry Tony to bed. He didn't know who to call, so Rhodey was told and flown in.

"Tones?"

The world was a little blurry, or maybe it was his eyes. "Rhodey?"

"JARVIS told me you hadn't eaten or slept. That you had a fight with Pepper, and she left because you slept with another man."

"I cheated on her." Tony admitted guiltily. "I hate that I did that to her."

"This isn't normal." Rhodey said sternly. "You never work binge for that long unless something's really wrong. Something's eating you up inside and it's to do with the cheating. But it doesn't seem as simple as just cheating. What really happened, Tony?"

"I don't know."

"Explain it to me."

"I was at that party. He- this guy, I don't remember his name. He spoke to me. I was drinking but, but then I was tired. But he took me to the bathroom and- and I gave him a blowjob, and then he fucked me. Twice. I- he said I begged for it, but I don't remember that. I guess I let him, though."

"You guess?"

"I mean, yeah?" 

Rhodey felt sick. "Tony- it sounds like he drugged you and then fucked you without your consent."

"And?"

"And?" Rhodey was livid. "He drugged you and fucked you."

"Drugged or not, I still cheated. And I know I liked it because-" he gestured downwards. "You can tell."

"You love this, slut. You enjoy it."

"Your body's natural reaction is to like it." Rhodey stated. "But you didn't want it. He drugged you and took advantage of you-"

"It doesn't matter, because it was still cheating."

"Goddamn it, Tony, he raped you." Rhodey shouted. "He fucking raped you. That is not cheating."

"But-" Tony knew, he knew his best friend was right, that he wouldn't lie about something like that. But he didn't want it to be right. Rape is still cheating if he liked it, right? He cheated. He enjoyed it, didn't he? 

"So pretty like this. So compliant. You're perfect like this. I could do this to you forever, and you'd love it Stark."

"No buts, Tony. You were raped. You are not the villain in this, you're the victim. Someone took advantage of you and raped you and you didn't want it, no matter how convinced you are that you liked it. It was rape, Tony. That is not cheating."

Tony felt like crying. He didn't know why, because- well- "You- me, men can't get raped?"

"Yes they can. You were raped." Rhodey sighed. "I know it's hard, hard to admit what happened, but it's true. A man raped you and you're beating yourself up over it for no reason. You didn't ask for this."

"I-" His breath stuttered and he felt like he was shaking. "Rhodey, what do I do now? How- how do I convince myself I didn't cheat, that it wasn't my fault?"

"What that man did to you at the party has nothing to do with your body or your sexuality and is only about him. And it is absolutely not your fault." Rhodey held his best friend's hand. "He was a twisted man, and you were drugged. Tony, you didn't ask for that. You were just trying to do your job."

"I need to talk to Pepper, don't I?"

"She's already waiting for you."

"JARVIS?"

"Yes."

"Can you send the footage of our conversation to Pepper?" Tony asked. "I don't think I can talk about it again."

"Of course, Sir." 

Pepper came in after the video was done, and then she had run into Tony's arms and cried. She cried and told him he didn't deserve to be raped, to feel guilty for doing something he never asked for. She cried and told him he didn't cheat and Pepper loved him regardless.

And then Tony cried. He didn't want to feel like a victim, but it was dawning on him that that was actually what he was now. He got drugged and was raped, and he beat himself up for it. And no one hated him for it.

He cried because he never had anyone to tell him rape wasn't cheating when he was younger. 

"Will we be okay?" Tony asked.

"Will you?"

"I don't know." Tony shrugged. "I think- I think I need some time."

"I'm here as long as you need, in whatever way you need me." Pepper wiped the tears from her eyes. 

And then she was gone.

That night, he found history of the man from the party in JARVIS database. He found tests showing Tony had a drug in his system and future guest lists with one man's name conveniently barred from. 

And Pepper seemed to be leaving help sheets all over his office, his workshop and in paperwork. Maybe one day, he'd get it.

And he wouldn't feel like he cheated anymore.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was tired.

He slept for a little bit, saw children laying dead among rubble, woke up with a hoarse throat and decided to go to his workshop. His head was still spinning, and his entire body felt sore, but he wasn't planning to eat yet.

Maybe he wasn't going to eat at all.

He wanted to hurt himself so badly, but there wasn't someone to cut himself for. He'd repented for every death and yet it still didn't feel like enough. It was never enough. No matter what he did, he'd never fully repent. It wouldn't bring the lives back or take back the physical damage.

He saw one way to fix that problem. Only one.

He never imagined the way he finally died being at his own hands. He escaped death so many times that he thought maybe he'd live forever. Maybe he'd die peacefully in his sleep, due to old age.

But he was going to change all of that.

One last cut, where he'd bleed out and feel pain for however long he had left. That cut would be for his life. And he'd go deeper than he'd ever gone before.

It seemed like the perfect way to go.

He showered, rubbed all the healing cuts raw and reopened them, wiped himself down and made himself feel clean again. He was never going to be fully clean, not from his sins, but at least he wouldn't die smelling foul.

Tony sat down on his workshop floor, his hoodie folded neatly next to him, written will on top of the hoodie, a blade in his hand. It was his sharpest, newest blade, that he'd been saving for the most important cut. He didn't realise that it'd be his last one.

He looked at his body and felt proud of it. Without the reactor, his chest was a mess of surgical scars, and below them, there were cuts done by his own hand. He felt proud of what he'd done, because he was repenting.

The world would be a better place without him.

There was a small gap between his wrist and palm, a thin strip of skin he'd accidentally left untouched. It was the perfect place to do it. He brought the blade up to his skin, ready to make the final cut, and then someone gasped.

Fuck.

He was the someone that gasped.

He'd blanked out and began the final cut without even realising. And now there was a small, deep, crimson cut on his white skin, making a stark contrast between the two colours. It was like the darkness of the blood pouring out of his arm made him realise what he'd done.

It hurt.

Oh god, it really fucking hurt. But he'd already started, and he needed to repent and make the last symbolic cut. He had to keep going, or all of the cuts would be meaningless.

So he kept going.

Fuck, holy fucking shit, it hurt. Tony could feel how deep the blade had gone, and as he dragged it further, he felt himself tear up. It hurt so fucking bad but he needed to do this. He needed the cut, his last cut, to hurt. The cut that symbolised his death had to be the worst of them all. 

Because he was saving the world one last time. He was taking away a murderer from the world, taking away someone who had only ever caused death and destruction. He was killing off the Merchant of Death. The world would be safer with Tony Stark gone.

So okay, the pain was bad, but he was doing a good thing. It was worth it.

The blade slipped out of his hand when he was done. The blood pouring out of the thin but quite literally deadly cut had gotten all over his arm, his hand, making the silver blade slip out. It was coating the floor, coating his legs. Tony saw red, literally, and he loved it. The sight of his own blood drowning him was so right.

You deserve this, you deserve this, you deserve this.

Tony closed his eyes and smiled, because for once, he had done a good thing. 

When everyone else found out, they'd smile with him.

Tony Stark died five minutes after making the final cut. 

Natasha had seen a lot of gruesome things in her lifetime. She had been the one to make things gruesome in certain situations. She was good at keeping her expression indifferent and schooling her emotions in public. When something shocked her, most of the time no one would be able to notice.

But when she walked into Tony Stark's workshop and saw the man, dead, only in boxers, the skin on his arms, wrists, thighs and stomach covered in deep, red cuts, she had to force herself not to throw up. Though Tony was in boxers, she could still tell that the cuts on his thighs went past what the boxers were covering.

Tony looked dead. His body was sprawled out on the floor, his body cut up and covered in sticky, crimson blood. Some of the blood was dry, or drying, but most of it, pouring out of his right wrist, was still hot and wet.

Natasha held her hand over her mouth and blinked quickly, trying to stop herself from crying. But she couldn't, because someone she loved was dead, and there was no way to deny how he'd done it.

Tony Stark had been self-harming, and he ended up taking his life with it.

She held back the bile in her throat and kneeled down, trying to check his neck for a pulse. She knew he was probably dead, but she had to check. She knew exactly where the pulse point was, and though she felt nothing, she kept checking his neck, as if it would magically appear and her brother would wake up.

Tony didn't have a pulse, and he didn't wake up.

"What the fuck?"

Natasha couldn't bring herself to let go of his neck, to stop trying to find a pulse. Even though someone was clearly there as well, and it was real, he was really dead, she couldn't stop herself. Tony was like her brother and she loved him, and he had killed himself.

"Did he do this to himself?"

"What the fuck does it look like?" Natasha spat angrily, still holding onto Tony's neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a pulse."

"Nat, you know where his pulse is." Clint said quietly. "You're touching it right now."

"I can't find it. I- I need to keep looking."

"Tasha, please." Clint held onto her. "Tasha, he's dead. You have to let go of him. He won't wake up. You won't find a pulse."

"He can't be dead." Natasha's voice shook. "He can't be dead. This is just some sick prank you guys came up with. He's going to get up and laugh at me for falling for this. He's not dead."

"Natasha.."

"Clint? Natasha?" Steve walked into the room slowly. "What's going on-"

"He's dead." Clint said softly.

"Did he do this to himself?"

"What the fuck does it look like?" Natasha shouted again. "Of course he fucking did this to himself. Look at him. He- he fucking- he killed himself. Tony- I- he killed himself."

"You're lying." Steve fell to the floor. "He's not dead. This is one of his pranks where he takes it too far."

"Steve.."

Thor was the next to walk in, Wanda by his side. Vision followed with Sam, and all four of them gasped in unison. Wanda felt sick, because only hours ago she had told Tony he should be dead for what he did. And she dismissed his bleeding.

It was nauseating to see what she asked for come to life. She hadn't meant it, not at all. She was just angry, blinded by grief. But Tony had clearly taken her too seriously, and oh fuck, she was throwing up. 

One thing the Avengers had never seen before was Natasha Romanoff crying, and they never thought they would. Seeing her cry above Tony Stark's dead body was something they'd never forget.

"Why did you call us?" Pepper asked as she walked into the workshop. "Whoever called was not Tony, so you guys better have a good explanation for-"

Pepper's coffee fell to the floor. The brown liquid coating the floor was a harrowing reminder of Tony's blood spilling all over himself and the floor, and Natasha had to stop herself from throwing up, again.

Rhodey stood still behind her, both of them staring at Tony's dead body. The Avengers were standing around him, all of them visibly grieving. Natasha was still leaning over Tony, but not holding him anymore. Clint was holding her, trying his level best to keep her from falling apart.

He'd never seen his best friend so close to falling apart.

"Tony?" Pepper couldn't help but whisper weakly. 

"He's gone." Steve said calmly, trying not to break down again. 

"And I'm assuming he did this to himself?" Pepper asked.

"Yeah."

"What the fuck did you guys do?" Pepper shouted, running towards them. Rhodey had to hold her back, despite wanting to kill the Avengers too. "What the fuck did you do?"

"We didn't do anything-"

"Shut the fuck up, Wanda." Natasha spat. "Shut up. You- you fucking told him he deserved to die. You told him that he was a murderer. You taunted him for losing JARVIS and kept taunting him over Ultron. And then you said it wasn't a big deal that he was bleeding. You said some people died from bleeding too much. So did he."

"That bitch did what?" Pepper had never been so angry in her life. "I'll fucking kill you."

"Miss Potts-"

"Don't call me that." Pepper felt her heart break. Memories of her and Tony calling each other Mr Stark and Miss Potts ran through her mind. She'd give anything to be able to have that again. 

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we didn't call you here to get mad at us." Steve said calmly. "We just- there's a note, and we figured you and Rhodes should be the ones to open it."

Pepper had to stop herself from crying as she picked up the piece of paper Tony left. JARVIS would've been the one to read it out to her, if he was here. But he was gone, and so was Tony, and all she had left of him was a blood-splattered note.

"To whoever reads this, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for all the deaths I've caused by making weapons, and to all the people who have gotten hurt in missions I've been part of. I'm sorry for Sokovia. I'm sorry for Ultron.

I know writing a note and saying sorry won't make up for anything, but I'm especially sorry for Pietro, Marya and Django Maximoff, for being the reason why those three are dead. If this gets to Wanda, I hope she knows how sorry I am for what I've done. It sounds useless coming from a piece of paper, but she wouldn't hear me out when I could voice this.

I've killed a total of two-hundred-and-six people since Afghanistan. I'm responsible for Bruce Banner's disappearance, for JARVIS being gone and for Ultron. I've tried to repent for every person I've killed since then, but there's so many deaths from before that I'll never feel like I've repented properly. 

So clearly there's only one solution. I know I'm a bad person, regardless of being Iron Man. I've hurt people, killed people, ruined lives, and so much more. So to try and repent, fully, I'm taking my own life. If you're reading this, I've probably succeeded.

If you're curious about the cuts, they're all the people I've killed since Afghanistan. I never went above because I felt like if I do it for no reason, it's making all the cuts I've made to represent the people I've killed meaningless. And they can't be meaningless. That's part of the reason I had to make the final cut; because I want to feel the pain and repent, but I can't have it be meaningless. Hence this cut being the last one, the deepest one.

I'm sorry, Pepper, for not telling you about Ultron. I should've, because you probably would've stopped me and then none of this would've happened, and we would've still been together. And then maybe I wouldn't have gotten so bad. Unless you broke up with me regardless. I'd understand; I'm not the easiest to deal with. I'm sorry, I love you.

Rhodey, I'm sorry for not telling you about Ultron either. And I'm sorry for leaving you. Thank you for sticking with me for so long. I love you, I really do. When you took the suit years ago, I was actually planning to give them all to you because I was dying. You didn't take it- I gave it to you. Now, the rest that still exist all belong to you. 

Virginia Potts has full control of Stark Industries, as well as one-hundred-percent of the Tower. the Malibu house, and a fifth of my wealth. James Rhodes has control of all of the Iron Man suits, and a fifth of my wealth, and the remaining properties I own. Harold Hogan has control of all of my cars, and a fifth of my wealth. The Avengers get a fifth of my wealth and the compound to live in.

The last fifth of my wealth has already been distributed among charities for mental health, self-harm and suicide, as well as refuge centres. There's a group of people rebuilding Sokovia, and it's completely paid for by me already.

I'm sorry, to everyone I've hurt. I hope what I've done now can make up for what I've done, even if it's only partially. I know my death can't make up for all the deaths I've caused, but hopefully it can ease the grief a little bit.

I'm sorry, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. And the Avengers. Even if the Avengers hate me now, I died loving them. And Rhodey, Happy and Pepper.

Wow, this does not sound like me at all. Emotions make me feel itchy.

Also, no one made me do this. No one is responsible for it but me. I chose to end my life.

I'm sorry, but I'm also not. It had to be done.

Tony Stark."

Pepper's voice shook the whole time she read out the note. Tony had explicitly said this was no one's fault, and yet she couldn't help but feel responsible for not noticing how badly her ex was hurting. For not helping him, for staying with him through his hardships. 

She loved him. She hated herself a little bit for letting go of him.

Rhodey held onto her as she cried, unable to let go of the paper that was both a goodbye note and a will. He had let go of everything so easily, and let go of his life so easily. She couldn't help but cry harder when she realised Tony was happy to die, to let go, and he genuinely believed he was doing a good thing.

He believed he was doing a good thing by killing himself, and that no one would be hurt, no one would grieve. But he didn't do a good thing, and people were hurting, people were grieving.

Pepper was hurt, but she was also beyond angry.

And not at Tony.

"Didn't any of you notice, notice anything wrong with him?" She yelled. "You guys live with him, in his building. He let all of you guys into his life, his home, let you guys live here without paying a fucking dime. He's supported you physically, financially, and probably emotionally too. And not a single person could see he was hurting?"

"You didn't either-"

"Shut the fuck up." Pepper spat. "I broke up with him, yes, but I've still been by. I haven't been able to talk to him because I am running a company, and the last time I saw him he was getting some much-needed sleep. But now, now he's going to sleep forever, because clearly not a single one of you so-called heroes could see that he was hurting."

"We noticed." Natasha said solemnly. "Just not in time."

"What do you mean, not in time?"

"We were mad." Steve sighed. "Of course we were. Tony messed up. But- it's only been a little while since Ultron. We needed our space, and we assumed he did too. But we should've checked on him. I can admit that. This could've been avoided, but it wasn't. I don't think pointing fingers is going to help."

"Fuck off." Rhodey glared. "Fuck off. My best friend, my brother is dead, and you're acting all self-righteous. I don't wanna hear shit from you, Rogers, unless it's an apology."

"I'm sorry." He meant it. "I am, genuinely. I'm sorry I didn't notice. If I had noticed-"

"Things wouldn't have been different." Natasha said quietly. "Because we didn't notice. He didn't want us to notice. He hid this on purpose, and he hid it well. I didn't notice, not until it was too late. I should've been faster."

"What do you mean, should've been faster?"

"I held onto him." Thor claimed. "I had held onto his arm, perhaps too tightly; I am unsure. But when I let go of his arm, his blood was left on my hand. He had run off, so I was unable to confront him about it at the time."

"I was going to." Natasha admitted. "I was. That's- that's how I found him. I was going to check on him, but I was too late. He was already bleeding out by the time I got here, and I couldn't find a pulse. If I was faster- if I'd found him in time, well, maybe things would've been different. But I didn't."

"How didn't we notice?" Rhodey asked, not to anyone in particular. "Since Afghanistan.. fuck, since fucking Afghanistan. I've been there since then, I've been there this whole fucking time, and I never noticed."

"He's good at hiding things." Pepper said. "He always has been."

"If it makes you feel better, I didn't notice." Natasha admitted. "He was my mission, to analyse and create a report on. Even whilst he was dying, even whilst he was living with me, I never noticed he cut himself. Noticing things like this is my job; I usually notice. So, if it makes you feel better, I didn't notice at all."

"He's been my best friend for years." Rhodey felt his eyes water. "I've known him for so long. I've been with him for all his low moments, and yet I never noticed. God, I should've. He never uses handheld razors. Never has."

Natasha didn't realise she had been holding the razor blade Tony used the whole time until then. 

"We weren't supposed to notice." 

"Even if him cutting wasn't obvious, the fact that he wasn't okay was." Natasha wiped her eyes. "It was so obvious and we were all blind to it."

"Blaming ourselves isn't going to change anything." Steve decided. "What we need to do is- is prepare for- for a funeral."

"I'm not ready to let go of my best friend." Rhodey shook his head. "I can't. He wasn't supposed to die until we were old and grey. I was supposed to throw him in a care home as a joke. He was supposed to die peacefully in his sleep, nearing a hundred years old." 

"Can we not fix this, at all?" Thor asked. "Is there no magic, no sorcery of some sort to erase what he's done? Midgard surely must have something."

"It's irreparable." 

"If anyone could've figured out something to erase this, it was him." Pepper said affectionately. "He said he'd figure out time travel by 'twenty-three."

"It's too late."

"I wish it wasn't."

The news of Tony Stark's death spread like wildfire. 

At first, Pepper tried to hide the fact that it was death by suicide, but somehow word got out. People went crazy over the idea of such a powerful, rich man ending up in such a dark place that he could kill himself. People mourned over him.

Pepper wished Tony could see how much his death affected the world. How people, random people he'd never met before, and people he'd saved or helped without realising, could cry over Tony's death.

Tony Stark was a hero, even in death. 

But not for the reason he thought it'd be for.

The people he helped by funding charities and rebuilding Sokovia made him a hero. The people he'd helped by making such a drastic decision made him a hero. He died thinking he was taking a bad person away from the world, but instead, he showed people of all ages that suicide was not the answer, and that it hurt people.

Seeing the Avengers cry on TV, seeing Pepper Potts cry on TV, seeing James Rhodes, a military man, cry over the death of Tony Stark on TV, made people realise how bad suicide really was. And because of that, a lot of people took a step back and stopped themselves from doing the same.

Even in death, Tony was the hero.

It was a shame he couldn't see that.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was a murderer. He was the Merchant of Death. He was responsible for a lot of deaths, simply because of the weapons he made. It might not have been his choice, but he was responsible for what he had done. 

For a while, he tricked himself into thinking that he wasn't responsible. He told himself he didn't care about the people who died, because he only made the weapons. The people who set them off had the blood on their hands. 

And then Tony realised that the blood was on his hands too. 

He was young and stupid when he started making weapons for SI, only because Obadiah wanted him to. He had a legacy to fulfil and he couldn't bring himself to argue with the man who was more of a father to him than his actual father. And a small part of him, despite Howard being dead, wanted to make his father proud.

After Afghanistan, after Yinsen, after Gulmira, he realised a lot of things. For starters, he was just as responsible as the people who used his weapons, and the lives lost because of his weapons were lives he took, indirectly. He went from being the most confident man alive to a man with so much guilt it physically pained him.

Pratt, Jimmy and Ramirez were the first three lives he considered responsible for taking. The three soldiers died young, died unspoken, in a Humvee that they were only in because of Tony. It was Tony's weapons that killed them, and Tony blamed himself for it.

And then there was Yinsen, the man who told him he had everything and nothing. Only after losing Yinsen, did Tony realise how true the late man's words were. He blamed himself for Yinsen's death, and a small part of him blamed himself for the reason why Yinsen was so at peace with death.

When he returned from Afghanistan, mind-open, grief-ridden, a shell of the man he used to be, he couldn't stop thinking about those four lives he took. He wanted to go back in time and stop himself from ever making a weapon, and then slap himself in the face because of what he'd caused.

He couldn't hurt his past self, though.

So instead, he hurt his present self. 

Tony knew all about self-harm and the terrible things it leads to, but he didn't care. He wasn't an angsty teenager with no other coping mechanism. He was a person responsible for a lot of deaths, and he had to punish himself for it. Someone had to, because Tony seemed to be lucky in the way he avoided responsibility for what he did.

He wished people saw him for the murderer he was and took action for it, because then he wouldn't have gotten stuck in an endless cycle of hurting himself. 

The Stark Expo was his fault. And so, right next to the four lines on his wrist, he added twenty-three more for the men, women and children that died. He could've done better- should've done better, but he didn't. People died at his event because he riled up Ivan Vanko and Justin Hammer, and he had to repent for it.

He should've thought of all the lives he saved instead, but Tony was never a glass half-full kinda guy.

After a long night of wishing he was better, he added another, deeper line for Obadiah Stane. The man's death was necessary, and even though Obadiah had actively tried to kill him more than once, Tony still felt the need to repent for murdering the man he once considered family. 

He almost went too far, but it didn't matter. His history with Obadiah was worth it.

When the Battle of New York happened, he was surprised to have found out that there wasn't a single death. But there were casualties, lots of them, and an insane amount of damage to New York. And New York was home to a lot of people, so he repented by paying for every single damage, and built several new buildings for those who had lost their homes.

He made sure not a single person had to pay for their new building. As long as they had proof that they weren't able to live in their house, they got a new house for free. It made Tony look like even more of a hero in the media, but he felt like everything but.

He wanted to hurt himself. 

But there wasn't anyone who was dead, so he couldn't add lines next to the previous twenty-eight. It would be wrong to do so, to make the deaths of the twenty-eight others feel insignificant just because Tony felt bad.

After Ultron and Sokovia, Tony cried upon seeing the number of deaths. One-hundred-and-seventy-seven fucking deaths, all because he built a monster that had the same mentality as him. A monster who craved and caused death.

Tony saw himself in Ultron. He hated himself even more for that.

It took hours of precise, painful cutting for Tony to get every single death engraved into his skin. He almost passed out several times, but he never stopped cutting and he didn't change how deep the cuts were. He needed to hurt, to repent for what he did.

It would be pointless if he didn't. He had to feel pain, just like those who died and the loved ones who survived felt. 

He ran out of space on both wrists whilst repenting for Sokovia, and moved down to his stomach, and then his thighs. He was running out of space, but it wouldn't stop him. He needed every single person who died to be remembered, to be repented for on his skin.

He paid for the damages in Sokovia and did the same thing that he did in New York; have buildings made for those who lost their home. He felt guilty regardless, because people lost their home, watched it get destroyed, and then had to be relocated. It was wrong.

Tony cut two more lines after that. One for JARVIS, and one for Ultron. Because Ultron was a part of him, and JARVIS was Tony's family.

He blacked out from those two cuts. 

The team was absolutely livid after Ultron and Sokovia. Not a single person had made an effort to talk to Tony, even though they were still in his tower, still eating the food he bought and using the weapons he gifted them. Bruce was gone and there was a new girl, Wanda, who was barely handling her grief.

Wanda had lost her brother, and watched her home fall to pieces. She blamed Tony for losing her parents, and she blamed Tony for losing her brother. She didn't hesitate to voice her hatred for the genius, and the team only agreed with her.

He had murdered people, and he deserved the silent treatment because of it.

Pepper was completely aware of what had happened, and she knew Tony had enough guilt from before Ultron. She knew Tony was definitely hurting, and she wasn't sure that anyone was there for him, so she made her way to the tower.

Even though Tony broke up with her a long time ago, saying he couldn't deal with a relationship at the time, they were still good friends. She just didn't know that the real reason he broke up with her was because he didn't want her to see what he'd done to himself.

It was hard, being there without JARVIS. She missed his voice as he welcomed her, and she missed being able to ask where Tony was, what he was doing and how long he'd slept for. She wasn't aware that FRIDAY had already been installed, so she had to ask the team in their communal floor where he was.

"Miss Potts." Steve greeted her with a nod.

"Rogers." She replied. "Do you guys know where Tony is?"

She didn't miss the way the room felt heavy the moment she mentioned Tony. It wasn't hard to figure out that they were all pissed off at him. It had been a week since Ultron happened, and she had only just managed to get out of a business trip overseas to visit. 

Shouldn't they have at least talked by now?

"No idea." Clint said.

"Alright." Pepper smiled politely. 

She didn't like the way they started talking immediately after she left the room. She walked lightly on her heels and listened in, and hated what they were saying. They wanted her to shout and scream and maybe even hurt him for what he did, because Pepper would be able to get away with it.

She considered stabbing them in the neck with her stilettos, but it wasn't her main priority. She had to see Tony.

Manually taking the lift to his workshop was her first attempt at finding him. She expected the place to be on lockdown, windows darkened, but then she remembered JARVIS wasn't there to do that for him, which was almost sad. Pepper hated when Tony went on lockdown, but now she almost resented that he couldn't anymore.

That was his safe space.

"Tony?" She knocked on the glass, not wanting to scare him off by just walking in. 

Tony was sleeping on one of the tables, his hair either sweaty or greasy- or both. From his posture alone, Pepper could tell he was exhausted. She decided she'd come back later. Tony was terrible at sleeping like a normal person, so she'd let him rest for now. 

"If any of you bump into Tony, let him know I came by and tell him to call, please." She said as she passed the Avengers.

"Sure." 

Tony woke up with a nightmare of fighting the Hulk, and he missed Bruce even more. He missed Bruce so fucking much. This was his fault. The fighting, the death, the loss. Bruce was gone, fuck-knows-where, and everyone hated him.

He cut another deep line next to JARVIS, because even if Bruce was alive, out there somewhere, he had still taken part of the team away. He was the reason Bruce felt like he had to run. He couldn't stop the Hulk, and Bruce's biggest fear- of everyone seeing the Hulk as a monster, someone who hurt innocent people- came true because of Tony.

He left the line unfinished, just in case Bruce came back. And if time passed and he never did, Tony would finish the line.

He hadn't eaten in a few days. Usually JARVIS would be pestering him, telling him to go eat otherwise he'll pass out. JARVIS would restock snacks in the workshop, make sure that Tony had food nearby if he didn't want to leave his workshop.

But JARVIS was gone, and Tony couldn't survive with the hunger pains. He felt like it had to be a good punishment of some sort, but he opted for cutting rather than starving to repent. Besides, starving was much more dangerous than cutting, and he needed to stay alive to keep hurting, to keep repenting.

Tony felt like crying as he walked to the communal kitchen. He didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was, and he didn't know where the Avengers were because JARVIS couldn't tell him. He knew that they were beyond pissed off at him, for good reason, and he wanted to avoid them.

But he couldn't, because he was human and he had to eat. He hated that. 

He figured luck was mad at him too, because he managed to walk in as the team was having dinner. Wanda was there too, and Tony hadn't spoken to her at all since Sokovia. She had lost her brother, and Tony cut himself for it, but that wouldn't take away the pain she felt from losing him.

Everyone looked at him when he walked in, but not a single person spoke to him. It hurt to receive the silent treatment, and he didn't know if he'd rather they shout at him or stay quiet. 

Regardless, he made his way to the coffee pot and made himself a cup before looking in the cupboards for something to eat. He knew he probably needed a proper meal, but the idea of eating whatever someone else cooked felt selfish.

He didn't deserve it. And they sure as hell didn't want him eating their food.

He found a granola bar eventually, something that didn't look at all appealing to him, but he decided he'd eat it anyway. He was in no place to be picky. It didn't matter that the granola bar had almonds in it, which made Tony feel violently sick. 

"That's mine." Clint said as Tony picked it up.

"Sorry." Tony put it down immediately. He didn't know what else to take, because he knew whose food was whose, and nothing was his. Maybe he could go back to his workshop and get JARVIS to order something for him.

JARVIS was gone. Fuck, Tony had to accept that and move on. He could just install FRIDAY into the tower. It was easy as that. But it wasn't easy, because JARVIS had been around for so long, and was practically Tony's family (and wasn't it sad that something inhuman that he created was family to him?), and it would be too soon to replace him.

The smell of curry made his mouth water and stomach churn. Bruce used to make curry for the team, using recipes he learnt from his time in India. He remembered when Bruce would give food to him in the workshop because Tony accidentally worked through lunch and dinner.

God, he missed Bruce so much.

"Stark." Steve called out loudly. "Hello?"

"Sorry." Tony turned around to face the team, and he wished he didn't. "What?"

"What are you doing?" Steve asked, tone annoyed. "You're just standing there for no reason." 

"Just looking for something to eat."

"Well get something and get out." Wanda snapped. "No one wants you here."

Tony would've had a thousand ways to reply, and he wouldn't have taken her bullshit, but she deserved to be mad at him. She wasn't lying, either. No one wanted him here. In his own tower, he was a fucking intruder.

He turned back around and picked up the first thing he saw, and then he swore under his breath because it was Bruce's. 

"That's-"

"Bruce's, I know." He put it down. 

"Look who's lost without his AI." Wanda said casually. "How come there's not another one? Are you scared it's gonna turn into an evil monster and try to kill you again?"

"Don't." Tony said quietly. 

"Don't?" She stood up. "Don't? How about don't make weapons that kill people's parents. Or don't make a crazy robot that destroys homes and kills people's brothers."

"I'm sorry." Tony felt lightheaded. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I'm sorry."

"That's all you can fucking say." Her fingertips were glowing red, and Tony could feel her rage. "Sorry. Sorry won't bring back my fucking brother, or restore where I used to live, where thousands of people used to live."

"I'm sorry." Tony turned around, head spinning as he did so. "I don't know what else I can do, or say."

"You should die for what you did."

"Wanda-" Steve called out. "Sit down. Don't let him rile you up."

Rile her up?

Tony wanted to scream. He knew he was guilty, but he wasn't riling her up. Or at least, he wasn't trying to. He didn't know what he could do. He felt completely powerless, and it reminded him of being paralysed, his arc reactor gone. 

He decided he'd come back for food later when they were all gone, and started walking out. He wasn't trying to make a scene or be dramatic, but his vision was blurring at the sides and he had to hold onto the wall for support. Did he even drink his coffee? 

"Aren't you going to eat, Man of Iron?" Thor asked. 

Tony thought this was the nicest anybody had been to him since Ultron. That felt like shit. "Nothing to eat."

"There is food here." Thor referred to the pot of curry in the centre of the table, even though Tony couldn't see it. "Can't you eat this?"

"It's fine." Tony let go of the wall and composed himself for a moment before trying to walk away. Before he knew it, Thor was right behind him, holding onto his arm. He felt himself shake a little bit, but it was fine; at least Thor wasn't holding onto his throat this time.

"You do not appear to have eaten in some time." 

"I have." Tony tried to shrug Thor's hand off, but it didn't work, and the God's hand rubbed against several cuts that were yet to start healing. Tony couldn't help but pick at the scabs or scratch them till they reopened simply because he felt like hurting again.

"You must eat."

"Look, bud, it's fine." Tony faked a smile. "I've- I've got things to do, people to see-"

"Monsters to create."

Tony let out a shaky breath and kept up the fake smile. "You mind letting me go?"

"If you insist." Thor seemed unwilling, but he did so regardless. 

The moment Thor let go, Tony basically ran out of the kitchen, not caring that he almost collapsed once he was out of view. He would find something to eat later, and for now, he could just sleep. He didn't want a nightmare, but it was easier than passing out due to hunger.

"Why'd you do that?" Wanda asked. "He shouldn't be sitting with us."

"You were harsh on him." Thor said. "I think we have been harsh enough. He looked quite pale. It is common courtesy to take care of those who don't seem to be taking care of themselves."

"He doesn't deserve that."

"Thor." Natasha said slowly. "What's on your hand?"

Thor looked at his hand and noticed a red liquid. "It is blood?"

"From- from when you were holding onto Tony?" Natasha raised a brow.

"It appears so. I may have held him too tightly." 

"Thor, people don't bleed from holding on too tight." Clint said. "Well, most of the time. He had to have been bleeding beforehand. You just applied enough pressure for it to leak through his clothes and onto your hand."

"Why would he be bleeding? Was he injured in Sokovia?" Steve asked. "Did anyone actually check if he was injured after?"

No one replied.

"Is it that big of a deal if he bleeds?" Wanda seemed bored. "Everyone else bled. Some people died because they bled too much." 

"I'll check on him later." Natasha offered. "I need his help finding Bruce anyway."

Tony was tired. He slept for a little bit, saw children laying dead among rubble, woke up with a hoarse throat and decided to go to his workshop. His head was still spinning, and his entire body felt sore, but he wasn't planning to eat yet.

Maybe he wasn't going to eat at all.

He wanted to hurt himself so badly, but there wasn't someone to cut himself for. He'd repented for every death and yet it still didn't feel like enough. It was never enough. No matter what he did, he'd never fully repent. It wouldn't bring the lives back or take back the physical damage.

He saw one way to fix that problem. Only one.

He never imagined the way he finally died being at his own hands. He escaped death so many times that he thought maybe he'd live forever. Maybe he'd die peacefully in his sleep, due to old age.

But he was going to change all of that.

One last cut, where he'd bleed out and feel pain for however long he had left. That cut would be for his life. And he'd go deeper than he'd ever gone before.

It seemed like the perfect way to go.

He showered, rubbed all the healing cuts raw and reopened them, wiped himself down and made himself feel clean again. He was never going to be fully clean, not from his sins, but at least he wouldn't die smelling foul.

Tony sat down on his workshop floor, his hoodie folded neatly next to him, written will on top of the hoodie, a blade in his hand. It was his sharpest, newest blade, that he'd been saving for the most important cut. He didn't realise that it'd be his last one.

He looked at his body and felt proud of it. Without the reactor, his chest was a mess of surgical scars, and below them, there were cuts done by his own hand. He felt proud of what he'd done, because he was repenting. 

The world would be a better place without him.

There was a small gap between his wrist and palm, a thin strip of skin he'd accidentally left untouched. It was the perfect place to do it. He brought the blade up to his skin, ready to make the final cut, and then someone gasped.

Fuck.

"Did you do this to yourself?"

The stupidest question he'd ever been asked. Whoever asked wasn't thinking clearly, but it was asked with concern, shock, disbelief. 

Tony didn't want to look up, because then he might change his mind. Instead, he stared at the blade in his hand and held on tighter. He felt footsteps approach, so he put the sharp edge of the blade onto his skin warningly. "Don't. Don't come near me."

"Tony.."

"Fuck off."

"Tony, what have you done?"

"What have I done?" He laughed bitterly. "I killed people. Four in Afghanistan, twenty-three in New York, one-hundred-and-seventy-seven in Sokovia, and then three more after that. Or, two and a half. And before that, well, fuck knows how many people I killed."

"You didn't kill-"

"I did." He said coldly. "I did, and I'm making up for it."

"Tony, this is not making up for anything. This is you hurting yourself unnecessarily." 

"Unnecessarily?" Tony spat. "This is probably the most necessary thing I've ever done. I killed two-hundred-and-six people. And that's after Afghanistan. Someone needs to pay for what I've done- and that's me. And that's what I've been doing."

"Afghanistan was years ago."

Tony didn't notice the silent footsteps come closer, and before he knew it, the blade was taken out of his hand quickly, lightly grazing the skin. He saw a small cut begin to bleed, and he felt himself panic. 

"Give it back." He looked up and saw Natasha. "Fuck, Natasha, give it back. Give it back. You- there's a new cut- that- that's not- no one died. No one died. That's a meaningless cut- you- fuck- you have to give it back. No one died. I haven't died."

Natasha had to fight back tears, keeping the blade as far away from Tony as she could. "Tony, you can't."

"I have to." Tony didn't bother trying to not cry. He was panicking. "Please- please, Natasha, please I- fuck, please, I have to. You don't get it. The- the cuts- it's one for everyone who died because of me and- and this one- please, it's meaningless. Please. I have to. It can't be meaningless."

"Tony.."

"It doesn't hurt." Tony screamed. "It needs to hurt. You're- you ruined the whole point of this. It has to hurt and it has to be for someone who died. You messed it up. Natasha- please. Please, I have to. Please. It doesn't hurt. I need it to hurt."

"What's all the shouting-" Steve stopped dead in his tracks at the door. "Tony, what the- did you do this to yourself?"

"Obviously." He snapped. "Tell her to give me back the fucking blade."

"What?" Steve looked at Natasha. "No, what, of course not. You can't- you shouldn't-"

"You're a piece of shit, Natasha." Tony began to pace around. "You're a fucking bitch. You- fuck you. You fucking cunt. I fucking hate you."

"I can live with that."

"I can't live with this." Tony wiped his tears angrily. "I can't. You don't understand. I have to do this. I- It has to be for someone who has died. You made this stupid fucking cut by taking it from me, and no one's died, so it's meaningless. It can't be meaningless, and it can't be painless."

"I can't let you hurt yourself." 

"Fuck you." Tony slammed his fist into the wall. "Fuck you. I hate you so fucking much." 

"Nat, why's he-" Clint stood next to Steve in shock as well, Thor behind him. "What the actual fuck?"

"What happened to the Man of Iron?" Thor felt the urge to call Mjolnir and hurt whoever hurt Tony.

"Fuck off. All of you can fuck off. Go jump off of a fucking bridge or-" He stopped walking around. Stood very still. And then his suit was called to him, and Natasha just barely managed to jump on top of him.

"Don't you fucking dare or I'll go down with you." She threatened.

"Die with me if I fucking care."

"You don't mean that." 

"Fuck you." Tony pushed her off of him and prepared to break through the wall, but then the suit fell apart. "What the-"

Wanda. Wanda had dismantled the suit.

"Why the fuck are you stopping me? You wanted me to fucking die, and now you're stopping me."

"I said that out of anger and grief." She said. "I didn't mean it."

"Now you feel bad because I'm trying to do exactly what you fucking told me to do." Tony laughed. "I'm still a fucking murderer. I still killed two-hundred-and-six people, your brother included. Remember that? I killed him. I killed him. I killed him."

"Stop."

"I killed your brother. Pietro Maximoff." Tony pointed to a cut on his wrist. "This one. This one was his. I killed him."

"Stop it." Wanda stepped closer to him.

"I killed him." He kept taunting her. He needed her to get angry. "I killed your brother. Doesn't that make you beyond livid? Doesn't it make you want to throw me out of the building, snap my neck, kill me?"

"Shut up, Stark."

"I killed your brother." 

Wanda was close enough to put a hand over his mouth, silencing him. "Don't. I don't know what is going on in your head, but I can find out. Regardless, you do not talk about my brother."

"I want to die." He said quietly, barely audible beneath her hand. "You don't need to go through my head to figure that out."

"Why?"

"I'm a murderer." His faint words were loud in the silent room. "I want to hurt myself. But there's no more deaths for me to cut for. I can't have a meaningless cut. I need to finish the one Natasha started, for my death. I need that cut to have a meaning."

"You aren't a murderer, Tony." Wanda admitted. "I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. My words were meaningless. You don't deserve to die." 

"I need it to hurt." 

"Not anymore." She removed her hand, and held his hand instead. "It doesn't need to hurt anymore."

Chapter Text

Tony Stark hated his father. He hated Howard Stark for loving Captain America more than his own son, for always preaching about how Stark men are made of iron, and made Tony feel pathetic for feeling. He hated the fact that Howard talked with his hands and feet, and only ever shouted with his mouth.

What Tony hated most about his father, was the fact that what Tony wanted most in the world was Howard's attention, Howard's approval, Howard's love. Tony was extraordinary, a child prodigy; it wouldn't be hard for a normal father to love him. But Howard didn't, and Tony hated him for that.

Tony figured out quickly that he had daddy issues. If people knew what to look for, they'd spot it from miles away. He'd done his research on this; boys with daddy issues tend to feel uncomfortable expressing emotions, tend to rebel, struggle with commitment and tend to sleep around. Apparently sleeping around was a way to get positive touch, because any other type of touch meant pain.

Tony hated the way he related to them all but the last one.

He knew exactly why he was that way, and if he'd seen anyone else with the same issues, then maybe he'd feel less ashamed of himself. It was funny, to him, because he wasn't really the one to blame, but with the way Howard was, it was so easy for Tony to blame himself. When Howard criticised him, it had to be Tony's fault for not being better.

At sixteen years old, Tony really fucking hated himself. He hated Howard just a little bit more.

Tony lived on the rich-rich people road. As in, everyone on that road had houses spaced out because their houses were pretty much mansions. Tony wasn't ashamed to say he lived in a mansion, but he'd never flaunt it, because living in such a large place without anyone really there, was really fucking lonely.

His next door neighbours were the Odinsons. Thor Odinson was part of that group, the group of people who were so kind and caring and enviable that Tony hated them. He hated them in the same way he hated his father; he wanted attention from them. But they hated him because everyone else did.

Loki Odinson, however, was different. Rumours went round that he wasn't really an Odinson, that he was actually adopted, but no one could prove it, and Thor would proudly admit that his mischievous, rebellious brother was his brother, no matter what. It was Thor's proud love for Loki that made Tony sometimes wish he had a brother, a sister, just a sibling to be there with.

But Tony knew another sibling would probably mean another kid suffering from abuse, and Tony wouldn't wish his father on anyone else. 

Sometimes, Tony would catch Loki sneaking out of his second-floor window, climbing down with such practice that it was obvious Loki did this a lot. Tony's window faced his, so it was easy to see. Whenever Tony closed his curtains, he'd always be surprised to see the boy in the year above sneaking out. 

Loki always grinned when he caught Tony staring, even though something seemed off about it. 

Tony and Loki had never spoken before. Neither had Thor and Tony. But Tony knew Thor would be easy to get along with, if he tried, if he dropped his stupid asshole act he put up to scare people away from him; so they wouldn't see what he was really like. But with Loki, Tony had a feeling they were pretty similar.

It made Tony feel a little bit sick, thinking about it.

"We've been invited to the Odinsons." 

Tony looked up from the kitchen island, where he was trying to peacefully eat his cereal. He hated the way his heart started racing and his palms became sweaty, just from seeing his dad. "Do I have to go?"

"I said we, didn't I?" 

There was that annoyance, impatience and disappointment in Howard's voice. Tony hated it so fucking much.

"When?" 

"It's tomorrow evening at seven. There'll be a lot of businessmen there, partners and rivals. I expect to be on your best behaviour." Howard's voice was calm, but Tony could hear the lingering threat. "Formal clothing. None of those tacky band shirts you wear. I expect you ready by six." 

"Can- can someone pick me up from school, then?" Tony didn't want to say it, but he had to. "I've got- erm, I've got detention after school. It'll take me a while to walk back."

"I'll send Jarvis to pick you up." Howard said reluctantly. "Don't expect this to keep happening. You'll learn nothing if everything's handed to you forever. Lord knows you don't deserve any special treatment anyway."

"Thank you." 

Howard simply stared his son down and left.

Tony hated the breath of relief he let out upon realising he made it through the conversation without getting hit once. He was smart enough to know not to get used to it, though.

This had to be Tony's biggest fear. A bunch of businessmen in a room drinking scotch. It was like seeing Howard but a hundred times. Whenever Howard drank, he was a lot more violent than he usually was. Tony was terrified of every single one of these men, even if they weren't all his father. 

Tony wandered around, trying to find a way to get some air. His shirt collar felt suffocating, like how Howard's hands felt on his neck. He just wanted to go out for a cigarette. There was probably a smoking room in the mansion, but Tony didn't want to risk getting shouted at by Howard for smoking with a bunch of the other men. 

He could already hear Howard's voice berating him for making the Stark name look bad.

He wandered around and found the Avengers in the mansion. That made sense- Odin loved Thor, so of course he had no problem with his friends being at their party. He wondered where Loki was, though. He hadn't seen the boy all night. Maybe he'd snuck out of his room again.

Seeing Loki in a suit and tie, all posh and proper, was not something Tony expected to see anyway. 

Eventually Tony found a door to slip out of. The cold air was refreshing, making him feel more alive instantly. He sat down on a bench and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He was struggling to light his cigarette because of the wind, but then someone's hands had covered the lighter and it worked.

He didn't expect to see Loki out here with him.

"Hi." 

"You mind sharing?" 

Tony held out his pack immediately. He wasn't surprised to see Loki smoking. He'd seen the black-haired boy sitting outside school smoking before school and sometimes during lunch. 

"You're not enjoying my father's wonderful party?" Loki raised a brow, his voice full of sarcasm. 

"Could do with a bit of music." Tony shrugged. "Maybe some AC/DC."

"You're fond of that band, no?" 

"How would you know?"

"I've seen posters in your room." Loki said casually. 

"That's creepy."

"I notice the posters when I notice you staring at me." 

Tony smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I don't mean to. You just- appear out of nowhere, climb out of your window and you're gone again." 

"Sometimes I need fresh air. Just like you do, right now." 

"Parties like these get boring when the men are drinking and I'm not." 

"That's not the only problem with them drinking." Loki said quietly. Tony almost missed it, but he didn't want to say anything. "I didn't think you were the type to smoke."

"Really?" Tony wanted to laugh. "Guess you've missed the rumours. I'm a rebellious rich kid who sleeps around, is always at a party, drinks, smokes and takes drugs morning, noon and night." 

"Only rumours?"

"Partly." 

"Go on."

"Well, I don't sleep around." Tony said. "And I'm don't go to parties that much. And I definitely don't do drugs morning, noon and night." 

"But you drink?"

"Not a lot." Tony said honestly. "I don't like-"

"You don't like?"

"Hangovers." He lied. "They're the worst. Always puts me off drinking for a while after."

"I've never been drunk."

"Really?" 

"Really." Loki sighed. "Never drank at all, in fact. I don't like the idea of not being in control of myself." 

"You're still in control of yourself. I drink because it makes me feel like all of my problems are gone. I'm more confident, nothing to worry about- it feels euphoric." Tony explained. "But I respect that."

"You're not the person I expected you to be." 

"Well I-"

The door in front of them opened, and Tony felt himself freeze up. He noticed the boy next to him do the exact same, because both Howard and Odin appeared, both looking far too calm. 

"What are you two doing out here?"

It was obvious that both of them were smoking. The cigarettes were a dead giveaway, but so was the lingering smell of smoke on their hands, clothes, mouths. It was too late to throw the half-smoked cigs away and hope for the best, so both Tony and Loki stayed quiet. It was the most quiet Tony had ever seen Loki.

"Our sons seem to be acquainting themselves with each other."

"There's a better son to talk to."

Tony didn't have a brother, but if he was Loki and his brother was Thor, that comment would've had him beyond pissed, and also beyond hurt. He couldn't see any reaction on Loki's face, but the way he held on tighter to the cigarette in his hand didn't go amiss. 

"Well, we found each other. I'm sure he can go off and find the better brother if that's what you truly desire." Loki stood up, shoving past his dad angrily. "Goodnight, Tony."

Tony wanted to say it back, but his mouth seemed to have dried up. Howard knew he smoked; the first time he'd ever tried a cigarette was with his father. But every time Howard caught him, he was pissed, and ended up stumping out the cigarette onto Tony's skin. Surely he wouldn't do that in front of Odin, would he?

"I should go after him." 

"We can finish our conversation later then." Howard said politely, and even though there wasn't a single hint of malice in his words, Tony still felt afraid. He'd be alone with his dad out here, so no one would see how impolite Howard really was.

"Lovely talking to you, Howard."

"You too, Odin."

The door closed behind the man, leaving the Starks outside alone. The moment Odin was gone, Howard's calm expression morphed into the one Tony was familiar with: anger. He wanted to run, and just keep running, but his body was frozen and the air suddenly felt a lot colder. 

This was not the peaceful fresh air he'd sought out.

"You're just trying to make me look bad, aren't you?" Howard spat. "You probably forced his son to smoke with you. How's that going to make me look? Are you trying to fuck up my reputation?"

"I'm not- I- I just needed fresh air and he found me. He asked for one." 

"So now you're lying too. Making him look bad?" Howard shook his head. "God, you're just fucking pathetic aren't you? Making others look bad to save your own fucking skin."

"Learnt from the best." 

Fuck. Tony really needed to hold his tongue sometimes. 

Howard walked over to the bench and grabbed Tony's wrist tightly. The cigarette fell to the floor, long forgotten, and Tony just stared up at his dad in fear. "I asked for one fucking thing, and that was your fucking best behaviour. And you just can't fucking listen, can you?"

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up." Howard let go, pushing Tony back so he hit his head on the tree behind the bench. "I'm so fucking sick of you. You're lucky we're not at home right now. Just wait until we're back." 

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up." 

Tony nodded weakly, watching his father walk away.

"Inside, now. You're going to stay in the same room as me the whole time. You're not making me look bad any more than you already have."

Tony physically shivered as he walked past his dad, waiting for a hit that was yet to come. What he resented most about the evening was the fact that he was actually enjoying his conversation with Loki. He wondered how Odin was going to react, behind closed doors, and hoped it wasn't anything like how Howard surely would.

Tony made his way up to his room slowly, his chest aching with every step. His ribs ached, his head was spinning and his thigh hurt like hell. He should've been on guard, but the moment they entered the house, Howard had shoved him into a table, hence the pain in his thigh. 

His wrist still ached, from being grabbed at the Odinson's, but also from being dragged all the way to Howard's office. He wasn't sure if it was sprained or not, but it still hurt and he'd definitely have to swap hands when writing for a little bit. He was lucky he was ambidextrous.

He was ready to just collapse onto his bed and check out for the night, but he had to take off his stupid suit. Taking the top button off helped the tight feeling in his throat disappear, but it came back immediately when he looked out of the window.

There, clear as day, was Loki Odinson shirtless. A regular person would be surprised by how well built the boy was, but Tony couldn't take his eyes off of the old bruises on Loki's abdomen, and the new ones forming over his ribs. He could see Loki wince as he reached for his shirt, and then he stopped.

He looked at the window, and then they made eye contact. Tony had never seen Loki anything but calm, until then. The realisation of what Tony was looking at kicked in, and Loki rushed to close his curtains. Tony could still see the very faint outline of the older boy's body through the closed curtains, but all he could think of was those bruises.

The new ones, they had to be because of what happened earlier.

Tony felt ill. 

Tony hadn't closed his curtains yet. In fact, he'd opened his window, sat on the ledge and got his pack out. The wind wasn't as bad, so he didn't need someone to help him with the lighter. It felt wrong to smoke, when it had caused pain for both Tony and Loki, but he needed something, anything, to help him clear his head. He felt sick, maybe from his head being bashed a few times, but he smoked anyways.

How had he not seen that Loki was just like him?

It was three in the morning, when Tony was just about to climb back into his room and try to go to sleep, when Loki had opened his curtains and window and was about to sneak out. He stopped when he saw Tony sitting there. He hesitated for a moment, but then continued his nightly routine and climbed down. 

"Loki?" Tony called out quietly.

"Shut up." 

Tony sighed and climbed back into his room. If the roles were reversed, Tony wouldn't want to speak to Loki either.

Tony's heart jumped out of his body the next morning when, as he walked into school, someone dragged him into a storage cupboard. He wanted to scream, but then the light turned on and he could see who had shoved him against the wall of the cupboard, hand gripping his shoulder tightly. Nothing like Howard's painful grip, though.

"Loki?" 

"Tell a fucking soul about what you saw last night and I'll kill you." 

Oh. That's what this is about. 

"I wasn't going to. I know we've spoke literally once before, but you don't have to worry about me telling people. You didn't have to threaten me, you know?"

"Just had to make sure. Heard you're not good at keeping your mouth shut."

"Didn't we talk about rumours not being true yesterday?"

Loki stayed quiet for a moment. "Just shut it, alright? If I hear this going round-"

"It won't."

Loki just stared at him, and only then did Tony realise how close they were. It wasn't a very big storage cupboard, and rumours were bound to spread if they were seen leaving together. Tony knew he'd be completely fucked if Howard heard the rumour. He was already pissed enough about Tony 'ruining' Loki with cigarettes.

"How'd you get the bruises?"

"None of your business, Stark."

"Was it your father?" Tony couldn't help but ask. He saw an opening, saw himself in Loki. He wanted to be able to have that comfort in having someone who knew what abuse felt like. Selfishly, he knew he'd feel a lot less alone if Loki was hurting too.

"Shut up, Stark. You wouldn't get it."

And then Loki was gone, before Tony could say he knew exactly what it was like.

Loki kept his curtains closed at all times after that. Even though Tony sat at his window every night for a smoke, he was always back inside before Loki eventually snuck out. Loki was avoiding him on purpose, and Tony hated it.

He missed the familiarity of seeing Loki climb out of his window.

It had been a few weeks since Tony saw the bruises on Loki's skin. It was obvious that Odin was the one who did it, considering this one time he overheard Odin shouting at Loki because the black haired boy's window was open. Tony listened closely, sitting on the ledge, and heard the sound of fists meeting skin, and the sound hit way too close to home.

What Tony wondered was, why was it only ever Loki? Thor paraded around after football games shirtless, and there was never anything on him, unlike Loki. Tony had so many questions, but he couldn't ask them, so all he could do was assume. 

Odin had called Thor the better brother, so maybe he just hated Loki, and that meant only Loki got hurt.

Loki had basically confirmed that Odin was the one hurting him when they were in the storage cupboard, and then what Tony heard said everything else. And now that he knew, he couldn't help but see the abuse like it was transparent. Tony knew what it was like, so it was so much easier to see it in Loki now.

The way Loki was always guarded, closed off, and never, ever let anyone touch him, was so obvious now. Sometimes Tony would see Loki walking with his hands over his ribs, holding back grimaces of pain, or see that Loki would carry his books with his left hand instead of his right- and he always carried his books with his right hand.

Tony hated the idea of talking about what his own father did to him, but if it meant Loki would have someone (and Tony would too), he was open to the idea of talking about it. He wanted to not feel alone, and wanted Loki to have that same feeling.

Loki thought Tony had no idea what it was like, and Tony wanted to rectify that.

It was unfortunate, the way Loki did end up finding out. Almost paralleling how Tony saw Loki's bruises, Loki saw Tony get the bruises. 

Tony was minding his own business, smoking on his window ledge as he did every night. He'd been having a really bad day, not for any reason in particular, so he just played music far too loud in his headphones and tried to block out the world. But because of that, he hadn't heard Howard's footsteps.

He was taken out of his head when Howard grabbed his arm and dragged him off of the window ledge. His headphones were yanked out of his ears, and his serenity quickly evaporated, panic taking over instead. 

"What the fuck is this that I'm hearing from your pathetic school?"

"What?" 

"Your school called me." Howard hadn't let go of Tony's arm yet, instead tightening his grip. "You know what they told me? They told me you're a pathetic little freak who can't pay attention, and was looking sad all day. Said they were worried about you, because apparently you're too weak and useless to keep your emotions to yourself."

Fuck. Tony had forgotten that the school counsellor, Mr Coulson, had pulled him out of history because apparently he'd been told that a teacher witnessed him trying not to have a panic attack. It wasn't his fault- someone had gotten a bit too close to him in gym, and it made him think of Howard. 

He didn't think his gym teacher had noticed his panic when he asked to go to the toilet, but apparently she had. And she snitched.

"I'm sorry." 

"Sorry?" Howard laughed. "You're fucking pathetic. What have I told you, many times?"

"Stark men are made of iron." Tony recited.

"Which means?"

"We don't show emotions, don't let anyone see weakness. And no one has to know how clumsy I am."

"If you can remember it, why can't you do it?" Howard shoved Tony back against the desk, the sharp corner digging into Tony's back. "Have I not been teaching you well enough?"

"No, I'm just a bad learner." Tony was quick to blame himself, even though he wanted nothing more than to blame Howard. 

"Then hopefully this will teach you something."

The next ten minutes was a bit of a blur, but Tony could distinctly remember being punched until he was winded, and doubled over, and then the rest was just being kicked over and over and over. Tony remembered hitting his head on the desk behind him, leaving him with an agonising headache. 

After those blurry ten minutes, he came to, and Howard was still there. Howard picked Tony up by his shirt, shouted about how worthless he was, and then dropped Tony down harshly, making Tony hit his head against the desk again. And then Howard was gone.

Tony sat down on the floor for a moment, trying to let the pain dull down a bit before he got up. But it just got worse as he stayed sat, so he forced himself to get up and deal with the pain. It was his fault, after all, for letting himself be weak in school. If he'd just been stronger, then that boy towering over him wouldn't have reminded him of Howard, and then he wouldn't have given Howard a reason to hit him.

Slowly, he stood up, using his desk for support. Everything hurt, and he was very sure his ribs were fractured, maybe broken, but he wasn't going to ask Howard to get them checked out. Howard would probably actually break them, and then send him off, and Tony wasn't sure he could deal with more pain.

And then he felt the very same fear Loki had a few weeks back, because when he looked out of the window, Loki was there, almost frozen in shock, because he'd watched the whole thing. 

Tony had never shut his curtains faster.

It was only ten minutes later that Loki had appeared at Tony's window. Since their windows were basically the same, Loki had been able to climb up Tony's the same way he climbed his own. The window was still open, so Loki let himself in.

"What the fuck?" 

"You left your window open." Loki said, like that was a reasonable excuse to essentially break in. 

"That doesn't mean you can just let yourself in."

"You get it." Loki's voice sounded pained. "I told you to shut up, because you wouldn't get it. But you do." 

"Yeah, well." 

"I'm sorry." Loki got off of the window and walked over to Tony. "I'm sorry I misjudged you. I should've seen that you asking about it was you reaching out. I was just so mad that I missed all the signs."

"It's not obvious. Or at least, I hope it isn't."

"It's not." Loki reassured. "But I know what it's like. I should've seen that you did too." 

"It's fine. It's not like you were the one that hurt me."

Loki looked defeated. "They always know to avoid the face. How to hurt you like hell but make sure it's only you that knows it."

"Why are you here, Loki?" 

"I know that you got daddy issues, and I do too." 

"So?"

"You asked me about it because you wanted to not feel alone anymore." Loki began. "I'm sorry I didn't realise before. But I realise it now, and you can talk to me about it if you still want to feel like it's not just you."

"I don't want you to understand." 

"But I do."

"I know." Tony sighed, wincing because of the pain in his ribs. 

"Ribs?" 

"I think so." 

"I saw your father's car leave before I came over. You reckon he'll notice if you leave?"

"No. He's got some conference downtown, so he's staying at a hotel for the next two nights."

"My father's going as well." Loki said. "You okay to come over to mine?" 

"Why?"

"Trust me?"

For some reason, Tony did.

It felt weird, being back in Loki's house, now that there weren't drunk businessmen all over the place. The mansion was eerily quiet, a reminder of his own house. Loki took him upstairs, to his own room, and it felt weird to see the room he'd only ever seen bits of from his own window. 

"When- when my father hurts me, I let my brother take care of me." Loki admitted. "I could probably do it myself, but Thor usually notices before I can, and he refuses to let me deal with it alone."

"That's sweet."

"He's tall and intimidating to some people, but he really is sweet." Loki spoke fondly. "I know you could probably deal with this by yourself, but if you want, if you're okay with it, I can get him to help you. He'll stay quiet. It seems like it's scary, but it really does feel nice to have someone take care of you sometimes."

"He won't tell anyone?"

"Not a soul, if I ask him not to." 

Tony wanted to run back to his house and let the pain overwhelm him, alone, miserably. But at the same time, his heart yearned for someone with delicate hands and tender touches to take care of him, because no one ever did.

"Get him before I freak out and run off."

Loki nodded, knowing the feeling of being torn all too well. "Sit down, upright if it's-"

"The ribs, I know."

Loki smiled sadly and left. Tony sat down on the foot of Loki's bed, upright, breathing slowly to not further anguish his ribs. Everything felt surreal. He couldn't believe he was in Loki's room, that Loki knew, and so would Thor. Tony was scared, scared of Thor telling the Avengers, and then everyone in the school knowing.

But before he could finish freaking out and actually run off, Thor was there, Loki behind him, with a sad look on his face.

"Hello, friend Stark." Thor's voice was unnaturally quiet. "My brother has informed me of your circumstances. I want you to know you have my discretion, and whatever I help you with is all your choice." 

"You sound like you do this a lot."

"Only with my brother." And that sounded much sadder than it should. "He does not like to talk about things like this. I'm surprised you are aware."

"I noticed by accident."

"The fact that you are here regardless is a great deal to him." 

"Okay, this is not about me." Loki interrupted. "Just help him instead of- whatever this is."

"Are you sure you're okay with me helping?" Thor asked. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"I am." Tony replied quickly, surprising himself with how sure he sounded, how sure he felt. 

Thor was like a giant golden retriever, with the capability to hurt someone, but never did. The fact that he could, but didn't, made Tony feel safe with him. And the fact that Loki had let Tony into his home and offered Thor's help made Tony feel safe as well. He never expected this, but he was grateful.

Taking off his shirt in front of the two Odinsons hurt, first of all, but it also felt so exposing. His body was on show, and so were all the disgusting bruises and the old scars he had from when Howard hurt him too badly. He felt completely transparent, but he didn't feel uncomfortable because of it.

Loki was better at hiding his reaction, probably because of how normal it was to him. Though his expression was indifferent, he still had to look away, and Tony understood completely. Thor, however, was a bit easier to read, and Tony hated himself for being the reason Thor looked so defeated.

"I'm sorry your father did this to you." Thor said softly. "You are remarkable, friend Stark. How your father is blind to that is beyond me."

"It's okay."

"It isn't. I say this to my brother every time, and I will say it to you too." Thor left no room for argument. "Despite whatever your father may have said, this is not your fault, and you did not deserve it."

"Why is it just Loki?" Tony couldn't help but ask.

"We are both unsure." Thor replied as he tended to Tony's wounds. "I don't see why my father has so much hatred for my brother. I often wish I could take his place. Whenever I can, I stop him from hurting Loki. It is always sorrowful when he comes to me, hurt, because I couldn't stop him."

"That's not your fault either." Tony said. "It's his, for hurting Loki. It's not your responsibility to stop it, you know?"

"I know. But it seems stupid, to me, to not help Loki. I know our father would never hurt me, so it feels pointless to have that knowledge and not use it to help him." 

"I don't blame you, for not being there to stop him, Thor." Loki said, back still turned. He didn't think he could look at Tony's bruises without being reminded of his own. "Like Tony said, it isn't your responsibility."

"I just wish there was more I could do for you." Thor said sadly. "And for you too, friend Stark. Neither of you deserve this."

"It's only a little while longer." Tony smiled weakly. "And then I'm free from him. And he can't hurt me anymore."

"I can't wait for that day to come, for you." Thor stood up, offering Tony a hand. "Would you like to stay over tonight, friend Stark? Our fathers are both off at a conference. We are free for the weekend."

"It's okay, I can go home now." Tony said politely. "And call me Tony, please."

"Okay, friend Tony."

Tony couldn't help but smile from being called Thor's friend. 

"Thor makes food for me whenever he hurts me. And then we binge watch movies until we fall asleep." Loki explained. "You're welcome to join us."

"And you are welcome here always." Thor decided. "If you ever want someone to take care of you, I am here."

"I don't want to bother you-"

"You are not a bother." Thor crossed his arms. "You are a friend and I feel happy to take care of you. I may not understand how it feels, but I am always happy to take care of you. Always."

"Thank you." Tony tried to blink back the tears that welled up in his eyes.

"Movies, then?"

"Movies."

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was a man who had the world at his hands. He had the ability to build something that could destroy the world, and he could just as easily build it back up. He could rule the world with a simple piece of technology if he wanted to.

But he didn't want to.

Contrary to popular belief, Tony wasn't a power-hungry man who wanted to take over the world. He was a man who had everything, and nothing. The only thing he really wanted was to be happy, to feel safe, to know the people he loved were safe. 

He loved the Avengers like they were his family. They were the closest he had to family, aside from Rhodey, who would always be his brother in everything but blood. And he wanted to keep them safe.

Ever since New York, he's had this feeling of impending doom. He's felt like he'd never be safe, the world would never be safe, his family would never be safe. He was paranoid, and the memories of New York constantly kept him on edge. 

After that image was put into his head, like a bad dream turned into what felt like reality, he knew he had to do something. He was terrified of the world being harmed again, and he had the power to change things. He could build something and keep the world and his family safe.

So he tried. 

Problem is, he failed.

He didn't expect things to go so wrong.

The realisation that JARVIS was gone made Tony's entire body hurt. He saw the destroyed code, the code that belonged to someone who also felt like family to Tony. He knew JARVIS was Just Another Rather Very Intelligent System, but he was Tony's intelligent system. JARVIS was, embarrassingly, one of the constants in Tony's life.

JARVIS took care of him like the real Jarvis. 

Realising JARVIS was gone was painful. The pain hurt so fucking much.

Watching Bruce talk about JARVIS, and how rage destroyed him, made Tony feel even sicker. Whatever he created destroyed something that was important, out of simple rage. JARVIS was entirely destroyed, and it shouldn't have been because of rage.

That wasn't fair.

Snapping him out of his thoughts was a hand, a very strong hand at that. Thor had picked him up by the throat and was strangling him. 

"Come on, use your words buddy." Tony choked out, humour being his first line of defence.

"I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark." Thor's hand tightened, and it was like he forgot he was a god.

Tony was merely human, and there were no words he could get out anymore. He couldn't fucking breathe, and everyone was just standing, watching. No one was doing anything. Not a single fucking person was doing anything. They all just stood and stared.

These were the people he considered family.

But then, then there was Rhodey. Tony's vision was darkening at the edges, but he could see Rhodey, see that his brother was coming to defend him. Rhodey's hand was on Thor's arm, trying to convince him to let go.

"We don't sort problems with violence here, Thor." Rhodey said. "Come on. Let go. Put him down. Talk it out."

Tony couldn't fucking breathe. Even when Thor let go of him, Tony couldn't breathe. He fell to the floor, very uncharacteristically of him, and he didn't move. He couldn't move.

In his mind, there was still a hand there. Except it didn't belong to Thor.

It belonged to his father.

"What did you do?" Howard stormed into Tony's room at midnight. The lights were off and Tony was trying to sleep, trying to avoid his father. "Don't think you can fool me. I know you're awake."

Tony stayed quiet. He had to stay quiet. He had to pretend.

"You fucking cunt." Howard tore the duvet off of Tony. He couldn't help but flinch. "I saw that pathetic little flinch. I can see that you're awake. Keep pretending and this will be a lot worse for you."

"What?"

"What?" Howard yanked Tony by the back of his shirt. "Don't give me attitude after what you did."

"What did I do?" Tony avoided his father's gaze. 

"You know damn well what you fucking did." Howard threw Tony off of the bed, not caring when Tony's elbow hit the ground hard, potentially fracturing it. 

"I didn't do anything."

"Fucking liar." Howard kicked his son. "You destroyed my work. I saw the ruins in my workshop. Can't even put it back after you break it. What kind of engineer are you?"

"I didn't."

"Yes you fucking did."

"I didn't- I didn't-" Tony didn't know what to do. "It was an accident."

"So now you admit you fucking did it."

"I didn't mean to-"

Howard held onto Tony's elbow, the one that hit the floor, and dragged Tony across the floor. Tony's elbow felt like it was on fire, and his shirt had rolled up, meaning the skin of his back was being scraped against the wooden floor. Everything hurt.

Howard let go of Tony once they were in the workshop. He found Dum-E and grabbed the robot by it's metallic arm. "You want to destroy my work? See how it fucking feels when I do it to you."

"No- no, please, don't." Tony tried to stand up, ignoring the searing pain in his elbow as he propped himself up. "Please. I didn't mean to."

"I don't fucking care."

And in seconds, Dum-E was destroyed. Howard was an engineer too, and he knew just how to break something in a way that it would end up irreparable. And he did exactly that. Tony watched with tears in his eyes as his first project, his artificial child, was torn apart. 

"I hate you." Tony ran out the room, going straight for Howard's workshop. He could hear his father's angry footsteps behind him, but it didn't stop him from finding the nearest, seemingly finished project and destroying it. 

"You motherfucker." Howard was livid. He now had two broken weapons, weapons he needed to have pitched to the board the next morning. 

He didn't care that Tony was his son. He never really did. But in this moment, he had never hated his son so much. He ran forward and picked Tony up by the throat, his grip dangerously tight.

"H-How-" Tony couldn't breathe. "Please- Dad."

"Don't fucking call me that." Howard squeezed tighter, knowing he had the power to break Tony's neck so very easily. "You're not my son. And I am not your father."

"Please."

"I could kill you right now. Snap your neck just like you just snapped my work in half. Would be a fitting punishment, hm?" Howard taunted. "Seems like a hit here and there isn't enough discipline for you since you just keep fucking up."

Tony tried to say he was sorry, that he'd fix what he broke. But he couldn't get a single word out, because the pressure around his throat kept getting tighter and tighter and oh god, Howard was actually going to kill him.

He blacked out in the workshop after that.

No one was there to stop Howard.

He woke up the next day with a sore throat, his voice raw. He tried to speak, to call out for someone, but it hurt so bad. His mouth felt dry, and he tried to drink some water, but it hurt even more to swallow.

Tony cried when he saw the dark, blotted bruises on his throat. He could see where Howard applied the most pressure, and he sobbed. It hurt, sobbing. It hurt to even breathe. His cries were silent.

He stayed quiet for a while. Even after the bruises had faded, and the pain was gone.

"Tones?" Rhodey was talking. "You with me?"

Tony didn't feel like he was with him. He still felt like he was in the workshop, JARVIS' destroyed code similar to the destroyed projects Howard made, to the original Dum-E before he was torn apart. Thor was a painful reminder of his own father, and he wanted to be gone.

"Leave."

"You want me to leave?"

"Not you." Tony choked out, his voice just as hoarse as it was in the workshop. He felt worse, maybe because this time he was strangled by a literal god. "Him."

"Who?"

"Howard." 

Rhodey paled. He should've realised. "Howard's not here, Tony."

Tony's eyes were shut. He hadn't realised they were shut. They were closed the entire time, and he didn't want to open them. Because he was scared of seeing his father in front of him, with the same hatred and fury he'd always felt around Tony. 

"Thor."

"Get out." Rhodey said immediately. "Get the fuck out. You know what, actually, all of you can fuck off. Now."

"What's wrong with him?" 

"What's wrong with him?" Rhodey shouted. "What's wrong is that fucker just strangled my brother and none of you did anything. Tony is human, and Thor is a fucking god. He's ten times stronger than Tony, and there was a possibility he could've snapped Tony's neck and ended his life there and then."

"Why'd he say Howard?" Steve asked. "Does he mean Howard Stark?"

"His father?" Natasha raised a brow. "No.. No."

"What?" Steve looked at her. "What'd you mean no? Rhodes, what is she on about?"

"None of your fucking business." Rhodey glared at the blond. "All of you fuck off. Natasha, if you want, you can stay."

"Does he want me here?"

Tony was still trying to keep himself in the present. He was trying to fight back the memories and the phantom pain of having his dad strangle him far, far away. It was hard when he could physically feel it all over again.

"Stay."

She did.

It didn't take the rest of them to be told twice to leave once Natasha had glared at them. She figured out what was wrong very quickly, and Tony was like a brother to her. She didn't have the same, age-old bond that Rhodey and Tony had, but she still considered him family.

"Tony, it's April, two-thousand-fifteen. The time is five pm. You're in the tower, your tower. There's no one here but me and Rhodes." Natasha was crouched down next to Tony. "You're safe."

"It felt like he was here." Tony said quietly, trying not to irritate his aching throat. "I thought- he- it felt like he was here."

"He isn't, Tones." Rhodey rubbed Tony's shoulder affectionately. "He's not here. He was never here. It's just you, me and Natasha, okay? You're safe."

"JARVIS is gone." Tony wanted to cry. "JARVIS is gone. Ultron destroyed him. Just like Howard destroyed Dum-E."

"You rebuilt Dum-E, though. You can rebuild JARVIS."

"I had to start from scratch." Tony said. "His code was fucked up and the parts were mangled. I had to get new parts and rewrite the code. It took me months to rebuild Dum-E. JARVIS had evolved for years. He was self-learning. I can't just recreate that."

"I'm sorry." Natasha whispered. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Just stay, please?"

"Always."

Chapter Text

Tony Stark loved to talk. He loved to talk to his friends, to his bots, to JARVIS. He loved to talk to the point it pissed off random businessmen, random people in general. He didn't care when people told him to shut up, because they weren't important to him.

It did hurt, though, when people he cared about shouted at him. It hurt when Howard told him to shut up for anything and everything, when Obadiah got fed up of him rambling about his projects, when his teachers yelled at him for talking too much, when the older students around him got tired of him running his mouth.

He didn't care about his teachers or classmates, but back then, he was young and more emotional, so it hurt. But as he grew up, when Howard was gone, he learned to not care. If people weren't important, it didn't matter if they told him to shut up.

He reacted badly when people he cared about told him to shut up. For a little while, after being told to shut up, he would stay quiet. He wouldn't talk at all. It was usually Jarvis who broke him out of his silence.

He was a lot more quiet when he was a teenager, just because it seemed like everyone around him hated the sound of his voice. He became less quiet in MIT. Rhodey could handle his never-ending rambling. But the reaction he had to being told to shut up was different with Rhodey. It was worse, and eye-opening.

See, it wasn't Rhodey's fault. It was exam season, and Tony found it easier to study and revise by speaking aloud. Rhodey was the opposite, preferring to revise in silence, the only thing he could listen to was music. 

Rhodey had never told Tony to shut up, not harshly. He only ever said it affectionately, and Tony knew that. But this one time, Rhodey just couldn't handle it. The stress of exams was getting to him and Tony's voice was just too much. He was patient with Tony, always. This time, he couldn't be.

"Would you just shut up, Tony. I can't study like this. I need you to shut up for once in your life, please." 

Tony stilled. He physically stilled, and he wanted to apologise. He wanted to say sorry, say he didn't mean to bother Rhodey. He wanted to explain, but that would just be more annoying. So he nodded, and then he realised he couldn't revise like this either.

So he went to the field to study, and he was going to talk to himself, because that helped. But he couldn't. He had done this a lot when he was at home, but this felt worse. He chose to be silent at home, but here, he couldn't talk. He couldn't speak.

He put his hand on his throat and felt his vocal chords. They were there, obviously. He wasn't suddenly voiceless because of a physical injury. He couldn't talk and there was no explanation why, and he was panicking. He was panicking because he couldn't talk.

He couldn't talk.

He didn't return to his dorm until he knew Rhodey was fast asleep. And when Rhodey woke up in the morning, Tony pretended to be asleep. He couldn't let Rhodey know that he had fucked up and somehow gone mute.

It took weeks of avoidance for Rhodey to realise what was wrong. He tried talking to Tony, but Tony was dismissive, always going off to study. Rhodey thought it was fine, because exams were important and they could go back to normal after. But then exams were over and Tony was still avoiding him.

Eventually, Rhodey managed to keep Tony in the room, and asked him what was wrong. But Tony wouldn't speak, couldn't speak. 

Rhodey realised what was wrong and felt ill.

It was that night that he did some obsessive researching and figured out that Tony might have selective mutism. He figured out he was the trigger, and then, when he reassured Tony enough, when he told Tony it was okay to speak, that he was sorry for shouting, he had eventually managed to coax Tony into speaking.

Tony cried, first, before he could finally say something. But then he did, and it was sorry. Rhodey cried with him and they had a long talk about Tony's childhood. Rhodey was patient when Tony stuttered, when he struggled to keep talking. He was patient and loving and kind, and that was what everyone else failed to be.

Rhodey told Tony he loved him that night, and that he wouldn't ever hurt him again.

He stayed true to his words.

Pepper was safe. Pepper was never mean. She got fed up of Tony on several occasions, and had told Tony to shut up before, but she never meant it in a bad way. She, like Rhodey, was patient. And she was safe.

Tony loved Pepper too. She was important to him.

But she didn't know about Tony's childhood, or that there was a chance that Tony had selective mutism. So she also didn't know what to do when she made Tony stop speaking.

It was the same case with Rhodey, with her. She didn't mean to hurt Tony. She was tired and spent far too much time in meetings. She wanted to sit down and take her heels off and relax, but she had to quickly sort one more thing out before she could.

"Can you summarise this for me, so I know a little bit about it before the meeting?" 

Tony was excited when she asked. He loved talking about his projects. Sometimes the things he built didn't spark much of an interest for him, because it was for the company and not a personal project. But this one was, and he was excited to have it out there, maybe, and have other people enjoy it.

So he rambled. He started talking about how excited he was, and then talked about the intricate structure and design, the functions and the aesthetics. He was even about to tap into the four-week business course he took for fun when he was fifteen, but then Pepper snapped.

"God, just shut up, Tony." Pepper yelled. "I asked for a short summary. I didn't ask you to explain the whole thing to me. I spend all day listening to men try to mansplain things to me, and that I can deal with because I know better than them. But you know I don't understand this, and you know that bothers me sometimes. I have had a long day, Tony, I do not need you making it longer."

Tony felt that panicky feeling start to bubble up in his throat. "Sorry. I'll- JARVIS can explain. He'll send an- an email."

"Forget it." Pepper walked away.

"I'm- so- so-r, so, fuck." Tony swallowed uncomfortably. That stupid feeling was coming back, and words were hard to say. He couldn't fucking speak. He hadn't felt like this since Obadiah died. It had been years since he struggled to speak.

"I've put up a holographic keyboard for you, sir. Is there anything you'd like me to do?"

JARVIS was aware of Tony's selective mutism. When Obadiah had ripped the reactor out of his chest, the last thing he said to Tony was to shut up. Obadiah knew what he'd done, and Tony ended up locked in his workshop, unable to form the words call Rhodey. JARVIS analysed the situation and came up with a diagnosis.

Selective mutism, just like Rhodey said. 

It didn't feel any better when his AI had told him he had it too. But it was better when JARVIS built himself a protocol to help Tony, and was there, sending people to his door with food when Tony needed to eat, reminding him when to eat and shower. It took two weeks for Tony to talk again, with JARVIS and Rhodey's help.

Because, of course, JARVIS learnt to call Rhodey too.

"I could call Colonel Rhodes." 

No, Tony typed into the keyboard. Don't call him. I'll be fine.

"Sir, I really believe it would help if he was here."

Tony just shook his head this time.

JARVIS didn't disobey. He helped Tony to the best of his ability for the next few days.

Pepper came by a few days later, realising Tony hadn't called her excessively, or sent new prototypes or ideas. She knew Tony well enough to know that meant something was wrong. She didn't know what to do when JARVIS gave her the silent treatment, refusing to open the workshop.

She just typed her override code in and walked into the workshop.

"Why's JARVIS mad at me?" She asked.

Tony looked at her, and the panicked feeling returned. She didn't know. She couldn't know. She didn't realise after Obadiah, and she couldn't realise now. He loved Pepper, but he didn't want her to know he was a liability. That he was so fucked up that two words made him mute. That this had happened before.

"Tony? What's wrong?"

He shook his head.

"Tony?" She walked closer. "Tony, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"If I may, Miss Potts-"

Tony glared at the nearest camera. He couldn't let JARVIS rat him out. 

"Tony- Tony, why aren't you speaking?" She was worried now. This was so unlike him. "Is this because I told you to shut up the other day? I didn't mean it. I was just tired and stressed, and you were rambling too much."

Tony shrugged. 

"The silent treatment is a bit childish. Come on. You can talk, you know? I'm not mad at you."

He didn't, couldn't tell her that this wasn't the silent treatment. He could not speak and it wasn't really her fault, even though she had triggered it. He wanted her to know he wasn't being childish, but he couldn't say it.

"Tony." Pepper said slowly. "Will you please talk to me?"

Tony shook his head again, trying to blink back tears. He couldn't do this again. It was so, so hard being mute, and not even being able to control it. He wanted to talk so fucking badly.

"May I, sir?"

Tony kept shaking his head, collapsing against the bench with tears in his eyes. Pepper immediately stood next to him, holding him, not knowing what to do. Something was seriously wrong with Tony and she didn't know what.

"Tony, you have to tell me what's wrong."

"He can't."

"What do you mean, he can't?"

"Sir cannot talk right now."

"What is JARVIS on about? Tony, please, let him tell me. If you can't, let him."

Tony felt completely powerless. He hated it so much. He knew that, logically, JARVIS was right in wanting Pepper to know. She had to know. She was important enough to him to make him mute. She should know, so that it wouldn't happen again.

"Can he?"

Tony nodded weakly.

"Sir suffers from selective mutism. He has been unable to speak since you told him to shut up."

"What?" Pepper felt unbelievably guilty. "How long?"

"Since before I was created. My observations led me to the conclusion that when people he cares about tell him to shut up, in a harsh manner, it leads to him being physically unable to speak."

"He's not doing it on purpose?" She felt sick at the realisation. "He really can't speak?"

"No."

"Shit, Tony, I'm so sorry." Pepper kissed his forehead. "Can I help at all?"

"You need to give Sir some time. Let him process you knowing, and then, when he wants you to, you come back and you help him talk. I will provide sites for you to go over in the meantime."

"Okay." Pepper let go of Tony. "I'm sorry. I'll be here when you need me."

She was back two days later, and Tony was still struggling. Pepper had read every single article she could find, and had a long talk with JARVIS and Rhodey. Rhodey offered to come by, but JARVIS said Tony needed to do this with Pepper, so he wouldn't be so reliant on Rhodey.

She did exactly what Rhodey had done, telling Tony he could talk. That he was allowed to talk, and she would never tell him to shut up again. She reassured him over and over until he could speak again, and his first word was sorry, again.

Tony had that long, painful talk about his childhood again, and it took him hours to get it all out. And Pepper was patient, just like Rhodey, the whole time. She never once told him to hurry up or made him feel bad. She was kind and caring, and eventually Tony could speak again.

She told him she'd never hurt him again.

Like Rhodey, she stayed true to her words.

The worst case of his selective mutism was because of the Avengers.

After a year or so of living with the Avengers in the tower, Tony had began to think of them like his family. Natasha was his terrifying sister, Clint was his annoying brother, Thor was the golden retriever, and Bruce and Steve were both mother hens. 

Tony didn't immediately get along with them, though. It took time, but they never told Tony to shut up harshly. The only time he was ever told to shut up was playful and friendly, and it was usually from Clint when Tony won in Mario Kart.

But then, one day, they made the same fatal mistake as Rhodey and Pepper. But it was worse, because it wasn't just one of them. It was all of them.

They were fighting Doombots, and Tony had figured out a good way to stop them. He was rambling, trying to explain the plan, but also explain what was going on. He couldn't help but ramble, because he was excited that he had figured it out.

And then, on cue, every single Avenger shouted at him through the comms. "Shut up, Tony."

Tony faltered in his suit, JARVIS having to take over piloting for a moment. This wasn't good. "Mute." 

Ironically, that was the last thing he was able to say. And it was to JARVIS. It had a double meaning- Tony wanted to be muted from comms, and JARVIS needed to know it was happening again. He felt the panic bubble up in his throat, but it felt thicker and heavier this time. He felt like he was suffocating.

His superhero family had shouted at him, told him to shut up. They all had the same tone, that tone of frustration and impatience. They couldn't deal with him rambling anymore. No one really could, unless it was JARVIS. Which didn't count, because he made JARVIS. 

"Sir, would you like me to call Colonel Rhodes or Miss Potts?"

Tony shook his head, realising that he couldn't even type up his responses whilst in his suit. He had realised that he was still floating in the air above several Doombots, not even carrying out the plan he'd gone mute for. 

He rushed into action when he saw Natasha in the midst of several bots, definitely in danger. He didn't care that she'd just told him to shut up; he flew down and picked her up, dropping her off somewhere safer.

She said thank you, through the comms, but he couldn't reply. He felt sick, choking on the words trapped in his throat. He couldn't speak, and the team was talking about what they should do, and asking Tony was his plan was. But he couldn't speak. He couldn't.

He tried, he really did, but he couldn't.

Tony carried it out alone, hoping they'd follow along. It took the team a few seconds to pick up on what Tony was doing, but then they joined in and the Doombots were taken care of. Everything was back to normal.

Except with Tony.

He couldn't talk.

Tony skipped the debrief and flew straight to the tower, ignoring Steve's angry Captain voice telling him to come back. The moment Tony got into the workshop, he collapsed to the ground and began to cry.

They had said those two stupid words, and now he couldn't talk again. He loved the Avengers enough to go silent at their request, and he didn't want to. He wanted to be able to talk.

It'd be harder to hide his selective mutism from a group of superheroes, especially when they live in his tower. And then they'd find out how pathetic he is- Iron Man but unable to take a simple shut up without freaking out. And they'd realise he's a liability, and they'd kick him off of the team.

JARVIS was trying to comfort him, trying to get permission to call Rhodey or Pepper, but Tony had ignored him. He didn't even bother using the holographic keyboard to reply; he just shook his head at everything and sobbed.

Crying hurt even more, because the only sound coming from him was the sound of his wheezing, stuttering breaths. He tried to talk, tried to complain to himself, but not a single sound came out from his mouth.

JARVIS informed him that the team was back in the tower, and Tony typed in lockdown.

The AI reluctantly followed the order.

"Where's Tony?" Clint asked at dinner. "Haven't seen him since the fight."

"He flew off and skipped debrief." Steve said. "I thought he was here. Should've been at dinner by now."

"Maybe he got an idea for something and is currently in a work binge?" Bruce suggested. "Could explain why he had to go so quickly."

"Sounds like him." Natasha sat down. "Last time I saw him was when he chucked me onto a rooftop. I don't know if I didn't hear him or anything, but he's usually pretty chatty whenever he's flying me somewhere."

"Probably thinking of whatever he's making in his head." Clint shrugged. "His brain must run a thousand miles a minute."

"JARVIS, do you mind calling Tony down for dinner?"

The AI was silent. 

"Is JARVIS broken?" Clint looked at the nearest camera. "JARVIS?"

The coffee machine started randomly working, and then the toaster pinged with nothing in it. This was JARVIS' way of showing he was pissed at the team, without speaking. If his creator couldn't speak because of them, he wouldn't speak to the team in solidarity.

SIR IS BUSY. Was written on a holographic screen that appeared in the centre of the kitchen table. SO AM I.

"Oh, alright." Steve barely understood technology. This was too confusing for him to question. "Let him know we'll leave him a portion or two. Depends how hungry he is after his work binge."

JARVIS didn't reply.

Tony sat in the workshop, on the floor, trying his level best to talk. He listened to JARVIS talk about what the team had said, and JARVIS really did try to get help, but Tony refused it. He needed some time to think.

And then he went straight into building. He needed to make the team some gifts, so that they would let him talk again. JARVIS told him over and over that he didn't need to make gifts to earn permission for a basic human right. Tony wasn't convinced.

He needed to show he was sorry for rambling. He needed to make sure they'd be okay with him speaking, even if it was only a little bit. He could cut down on how much he spoke if that meant that they would accept him.

He didn't expect them to be able to put up with his rambling for a year. So it made sense that they finally snapped. These gifts would be thank you gifts, and apology gifts. To thank them for putting up with him, and to apologise for finally making them snap.

He had built Natasha and Clint completely bulletproof suits. They were flexible and impenetrable, and had secret pockets for weapons. He made a brand new knife for Natasha, a Russian doll-type knife. He came up with a dumb joke "a Russian doll for my Russian doll" and then startled himself when he realised he wouldn't be able to say it.

The choking feeling returned, so he drowned the bubbles in his throat with coffee and blasted AC/DC to help his brain stop thinking so much. He made new arrows for Clint, making them collapsible in order to allow him to carry more. 

He made a magnetic strap for the shield to attach to, so that the Captain wouldn't have to manually grab it when it came flying back to him. The Hulk would be given new pants, and Bruce got more equipment for his lab. He wracked his brain trying to figure out what Thor could have, because Thor didn't really need anything.

He felt bad and felt the bubbly feeling come back. He couldn't drown it out with coffee, this time. He had no way to earn Thor's forgiveness and permission to speak, and Thor was a fucking god. If a god didn't want him to speak, how could he ever?

Tony threw up, just barely managing to get to the sink. He kept throwing up until he physically couldn't, and then he just leaned against the sink, dry-heaving and sobbing. He wouldn't ever be able to speak again, because he couldn't earn Thor's forgiveness.

"Sir, please, let me call Colonel Rhodes."

It was a no, again.

The team hadn't seen Tony for over a week now, and JARVIS was still refusing to speak to them unless absolutely necessary.

So far, the AI hadn't deemed anything necessary.

Tony had been sneaking into the kitchen whenever the team was definitely not around, making small meals every now and then. He didn't need food that regularly. There were times where he had to leave his food half-made because one of the Avengers were nearby.

He couldn't do anything until he figured out what he could make for Thor.

Every now and then, he'd try to speak, accidentally of course. And even though he couldn't speak, when he realised he tried, without making up for what he'd done, the panic would set in again.

He'd gone from simple panic to panic attacks, and they were happening way too frequently. It was hard, for JARVIS, to help calm Tony down, but the bots were there, and they were surprisingly good at comforting Tony. Dum-E was not so dumb when it came to comforting taps on the shoulder and U was good at whirring around until it distracted Tony enough.

JARVIS was always there to remind Tony where he was, what the time was, and that he was okay.

JARVIS had let Tony know on several occasions that the Avengers were looking for him, and Tony dismissed it. One by one, he'd given out the gifts, leaving them at their respective doors so that he wouldn't have to talk when giving them.

He'd almost bumped into Clint whilst leaving the arrows and instructions, and it caused Tony to freak out more than normal. He ended up running to his private bar and downing a glass of Scotch.

He threw up later, crying over the fact that he relapsed in his sobriety. 

"JARVIS, you and Tony have been radio silent for almost a month now. Would you please tell us what's going on?"

JARVIS, the absolute icon, started playing the part of Hot Girl Bummer by Blackbear where it goes fuck you and you, and you and you, and you, I hate your friends and they hate me too. The team had been beyond confused, but it did put a few things into place.

JARVIS was mad at them, because of something regarding Tony. The reason why, they still hadn't figured out.

"I miss Tony." Bruce said. "I miss him. He hasn't barged into my lab in a while. It's been over a month since we've done an experiment together. The only thing he's given me is several pairs of Hulk pants, and I didn't even see him give them to me."

"Shit, he gave me some new arrows as well. I thought I saw him, swear I did, but he was gone in seconds." Clint mentioned.

"He gave me something for my shield. He left instructions explaining it simply." Steve said. "I can't believe it, but I actually wanted him to go on a rant about how it was made, what it does, and how to put it on. The instructions were so.. boring."

"He gave me a new suit and a knife." Natasha flicked the new knife in her hand. "I know there was a stupid joke he could've said when he gave it to me, but there was nothing. Not even a note." 

"I got a suit too. It's completely bulletproof. I tried shooting at it several times, and nothing happened. I shot myself whilst wearing it and nothing."

"You shot yourself?" Natasha looked at him incredulously. "You put a lot of faith in yourself."

"I put faith in the suit." Clint shrugged. "I wanted to thank Tony for it, but the vents to his floor and workshop were sealed. Why's he hiding from us?"

"This has to be much longer than a work binge. I mean, he's given us everything possible."

"Nothing for Thor." Bruce realised. "He's not given anything to Thor. That smartass is probably trying to figure out what to give to Thor because Thor doesn't really need anything. In battle, he needs his hammer and Asgardian attire. I wouldn't be able to figure out what to give him either."

"He does not need to give me anything." Thor declared. "And neither does he need to give gifts for you. Why should he hide away to make things for us we cannot even thank him for?"

"Is he apologising for something? Or thanking us for something?" Bruce asked. "Cause that's usually how he shows gratitude, or asks for forgiveness."

"He has nothing to thank us for, neither a reason to ask for our forgiveness." Thor was more confused than ever. "What is wrong with the Man of Iron? Why is his talking friend not talking to us either?"

"JARVIS?" Bruce said quietly. "Please? Can you tell us what's wrong?"

"No."

"He spoke- that's something." Steve said enthusiastically. "Is Tony okay?"

"I cannot disclose that information."

"So he's not okay." Natasha decided. "With or without JARVIS' help, we're going to figure out what's wrong."

"How?"

"I'm calling Colonel Rhodes." 

JARVIS, if the AI could smile, would've smiled. He had been trying to convince his creator to call Rhodes for nearly four weeks. Now, without meaning to, he'd caused Natasha to do it instead.

He made the kitchen lights go yellow.

"Seems like JARVIS wanted us to." Clint pointed out. "So even he's worried for Tony."

"Something's very wrong."

Colonel Rhodes had called Natasha back two days later, saying he was unavailable due to military work. Natasha managed to pick up at the perfect time.

"Colonel."

"What's wrong?"

"Tony's disappeared for about a month now, and JARVIS refused to talk to us up until two days ago. Upon hearing I was going to call you, the lights turned yellow, meaning he wanted us to call you. Which leads me to believe he's been trying to get Tony to call you for a while, but Tony's refused."

"He's not spoken to any of you at all?"

"No."

"Did any of you- you know what- hold on." 

Natasha waited patiently for Rhodes to return to his phone, the Avengers watching her with worried eyes. They wanted to know what was wrong just as badly as she did.

"I'm flying over tonight." 

"Do you know what's wrong?"

"I do. But I'm not telling you anything until I see Tony first."

"Understood. Safe travels, Colonel."

"So?" Steve asked. 

"He knows what's wrong but won't tell me." Natasha said simply. "Meaning we've either really fucked up or Tony just wants to keep this private. Perhaps both."

"We'll just have to hope that Rhodes helps Tony then." Bruce nodded and took his leave. 

The Avengers felt quiet without Tony.

Rhodey used his override code to get into the workshop and barged in, hugging his wide-eyed best friend immediately. Rhodey held him tightly, rubbing the genius' back. 

"They said it, didn't they?"

Tony nodded.

"Oh, Tones." Rhodey let go. "You should've told me. It's been a whole month."

Tony raised a brow, and then he began typing onto the holographic screen, asking when Rhodey got here and how he knew something was wrong in the first place.

"Natasha called me." Rhodey folded his arms over. "She called me saying you and JARVIS have been giving the team the silent treatment for about a month."

Tony made an o shape with his mouth, but not a single word came out.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rhodey asked sadly. "I would've been on the next flight out. I don't care about the army. You're my best friend, and I am always here when you need me, especially when this happens."

I didn't want to bother you. Tony typed. And I'm working on it.

"Will you explain what happened at least?" 

"Sir was fighting Doombots with the team, came up with a plan, got excited whilst explaining it and rambled a little, and every single Avenger told him to shut up all at once. The last thing he said was mute. He's been unable to speak since then."

"I'll kill them." Rhodey said casually. "Let me and I'll do it. I'll stab Captain America in a place where even the serum can't save him from bleeding out."

Tony shook his head. I'm working on gifts to change things. They'll forgive me and I'll be able to talk again.

Sick. Rhodey felt sick. "Tony, you do not need their permission to speak. You don't need to be forgiven. They do. They made you fucking silent for a month. Does Pepper know?"

No.

"How?"

"Miss Potts has been on a rather long business trip and hasn't had much time to contact Sir. Sir has been providing designs and prototypes to trick her into thinking he is okay."

Tony glared at the nearest camera. That was far too much explaining.

"Tony." Rhodey sat down next to his best friend. "Tony, you do know this isn't your fault, right? I get it- you can talk a lot sometimes. But that doesn't mean that they can make you feel like shit over it. And you don't need to make them gifts in order to feel like you have your basic right to talk again."

I can't. Tony frowned. I can't do it. I need their forgiveness. I won't be able to talk.

"You don't. You just need them to know, so that they never make this happen to you again."

Tony shook his head incredibly fast, that panicked feeling reappearing. You can't. I'll be a liability.

"This," Rhodey emphasised, "does not make you a liability. You're a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. You're Iron Man. You're my brother and my best friend, and nothing about having selective mutism changes that."

Tony signed I love you to Rhodey. The first time Rhodey found out Tony couldn't talk, the two of them decided to learn ASL together. They rarely used it, because technology was Tony's other best friend, but they both knew it.

Rhodey signed it back.

"How is he?" Steve asked when Rhodey walked into the communal living room.

"You're all going to go up there with me, and I'm going to explain something to you. Say a single thing out of order and I will not hesitate to slit your throat. I don't care if you're all superheroes."

"Understood." 

It was weird to see Tony again after him hiding away for so long. He looked paler, a little bit skinnier, and unkempt. His beard wasn't neatly-trimmed like always, his hair was a bit longer, definitely messier, and he looked tired.

"Tony." Bruce smiled. "It's good to see you."

Tony felt like throwing up. He wanted to say something back, he really did, but he couldn't. And Thor was there, and Tony hadn't made anything yet. How could he be able to talk again if he couldn't give something to Thor? It wasn't fair.

"Shut up." Rhodey glared at Bruce, who held his hands up in surrender. "Tony, you sure you're good with me doing this?"

Tony nodded, albeit hesitantly. If he never got this out there, things would never change. He learnt that the hard way with Pepper.

"Tony has selective mutism." Rhodey began. "Because of the way he was brought up, having people he cares for tell him to shut up makes him physically unable to speak. It's not a choice, more so a trauma response. Right now, he's afraid to talk because he hasn't built something for Thor, in order to be forgiven for talking too much."

"What?" Thor tilted his head. "He does not require forgiveness from me. He has done nothing wrong."

"When did we-"

"The Doombots." Natasha said. "We all told him to shut up because he was rambling about his plan. That's why he didn't say anything when he took me away from the Doombots. Or why he didn't tell us what he was doing, and just hoped we would pick up on it."

"Precisely." Rhodey crossed his arms angrily. "If it was just one of you, he wouldn't have been so badly affected. But it was all of you, all at once. And if you weren't aware, he's already got insecurities about being just a man in armour compared to you guys."

Tony threw his hands up in protest. But he couldn't voice it.

"So having the Earth's Mightiest Heroes telling him to shut up, all at once, made him unable to talk. He can't talk because of you guys, and those new gifts were apology gifts. Though he didn't need to make them."

"Tony- we're sorry." Steve began. "I don't know what selective mutism is, but from what the Colonel just said, I think I know enough. And I'm sorry, so sorry, that we made you feel like you couldn't speak. You have every right to talk around us. And we do not need gifts in order for you to do so."

"You have been quiet for much longer because of me." Thor said sadly. "There is nothing you can give me to earn my forgiveness, because you don't need it at all. What would be greatly appreciated, however, is if you would grace us with your voice again. We have missed you. Your talking included."

Tony didn't know what to do. He felt entirely overwhelmed, and still a little bit terrified of being a liability.

"I'd also like to put it out there that he's scared of you guys thinking he's a liability because of this." Rhodey mentioned. It was like he could read Tony's mind.

"Fuck, Tony, I'm literally deaf." Clint said. "You know I'm deaf. You made me better hearing aids. If I'm deaf, and I'm not a liability, why would you be one for having selective mutism?"

Shit. That was a really good point.

"You're not a liability." Natasha smiled. "You are our friend. And we love you for you, your voice included. We've all missed you talking, genuinely. We've missed seeing you around and hearing you talk."

"I've missing fighting with you over Mario Kart."

"I've missed our lab time."

"I've missed you essentially tutoring me on this century." 

"Aye, me too. I have missed being informed of Midgard customs."

"And JARVIS." Natasha rolled her eyes. "Your AI has been mad at us as well, for the past month."

Tony laughed a little at that, and his eyes went wide when he realised he'd made a noise. His laughter was a noise, and that was something.

Rhodey noticed it too, walking up to his best friend and holding him tightly. "Take your time, okay? No one's rushing you."

Tony opened his mouth to say something, to try, and then-

"If your first word is sorry again I'll kill you."

"Noted." 

The realisation that he'd spoke was a shock to everyone. Tony was the most surprised, and then the tears began. He always seemed to cry after not talking, because of the sheer relief that he could again. Not talking, when it was quite literally not his own choice, was the hardest thing in the world.

"I'm so proud of you, man." Rhodey smiled. "You call me if this ever happens again, alright? I don't want to have to hear about it weeks later. Again."

Tony nodded, because that was the most he could do at the time.

It was enough.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was not a normal child. He was a child of the media, a child prodigy, a child with problems. He grew up in the spotlight, and behind closed doors, things were so far from perfect. His mother was a user, never sober, and his father was an alcoholic with extreme anger issues. 

Tony got the best of both worlds, becoming addicted to alcohol and whatever drug he could get his hands on from a young age. It was easier to drink, though, because his parents drank so much that they didn't notice the occasional missing bottle of whiskey or vodka. In fact, Howard said Tony needed to learn how to 'take a drink like a man', being one of the reasons why Tony became an alcoholic.

A lot of things from Tony's adolescent years were long-lasting. He began drinking at a young age and kept drinking. He tried to keep it out of the media at first, but then he realised that it was easier to just let the media think what they think and show what they want to show, because Tony didn't care regardless.

He would keep drinking, and his father would act oblivious, and his mother would be too high to notice. 

When Tony went to college at fourteen, he gained another shitty coping mechanism. He was at a party and ended up talking to a girl, a girl who experienced panic attacks just like he did. She didn't have bruises like him, but had cuts all over herself instead. She told Tony that cutting grounded her, that it made her feel like she had control and proof that she was sick enough.

Tony tried it. He wished she never told him about it, and wished he never tried to help her with her panic attack that night, because then he wouldn't have heard a glorified version of what self-harm was, and wouldn't have tried it himself. Wouldn't have found it just as addictive as drinking was.

He grew up with bruises, and sometimes scars, and he always admired the results of his father's anger on his body, because he found it fascinating. But at MIT, he didn't have bruises anymore, which was an important part of his life. He'd always had at least one bruise, some sort of pain in his body, and he didn't anymore.

Maybe that was why it was so easy to replace his father's abuse with his own. 

When things got bad, he returned to the two coping mechanisms he could always rely on. When Ana and Jarvis died, he drank and cut, and smoked and took a shit ton of pills from his mom's room and hoped for the best. He knew that it could kill him, but he was blinded by grief, the loss of the only people who felt like real parents to him blinding his rationality.

He woke up in a hospital, was taken home and beaten the shit out of, and that felt somewhat better. Physical pain was easier to deal with. Physical pain was what he was used to. He couldn't watch mental wounds heal, so he watched the physical ones heal instead. This was normal. This was easy.

When his mother and father died in a car accident, Tony felt his world crumble beneath him. His mother, his mother, was dead. She was useless at actually parenting him once he was eight or so, but she was still a mother to him before that. Before the addiction, she was his mamma, and now she was gone, just like that.

He resented his father for being behind the wheel, because he knew damn well that his father was drinking beforehand, possibly even whilst he drove. There were times when he forced Tony to get in the car with him as he drank, whilst physically driving, just because of how terrified Tony was. 

But his father was gone too, now, and he had no familiarity anymore. He had no one to hit him to the point his entire body ached, to the point he felt nauseous, to the point he was used to it. Tony had learned to accept the abuse, because it was the only attention he got, and it was gone just like that.

He'd lost his parents, his biological parents, and everything that was normal to him.

So of course, he turned to drinking and cutting, and if it wasn't for Obadiah coming to check up on him, he would've died. When he was discharged from the hospital, no one hit him over and over and over, and it felt like shit. He would've tried again, would've done it so that no one would find him, but then the company was in his hands.

He was twenty-one and in charge of a multimillion-dollar company. He felt an overwhelming pressure begin to fall on his shoulders, but Obadiah was there to hold him up. He refused to let Tony fall down because of stress. He was Tony's backbone in the business. 

A part of Tony wanted to make his father proud, even though the man was dead. Tony was a fuck-up in everything he did, but if he could keep the company going, maybe, just maybe, his father would be proud of him from wherever he was.

After Afghanistan, Tony stopped drinking. After Obadiah tried to kill him, for the second time, he started drinking again. But Pepper was always around and Rhodey was staying for longer periods of time, so he stopped drinking. He hadn't cut in a while, but then the nightmares became too much and he needed the pain to ground him again.

Whenever he felt like he'd have a panic attack, or when he just woke up from a nightmare, he'd immediately turn to a blade. It felt easier that way. He also felt stupid because self-harm seemed like such angsty-teenager behaviour, but it didn't stop him. He didn't know anyone else who cut themselves, didn't even know where the girl who told him about it was, but he kept doing it.

He couldn't stop. 

He blamed Howard Stark for it.

Tony was sober the entire time he had palladium poisoning.

When Bruce fell asleep as he spoke, Tony pretended it didn't hurt. Yes, Bruce was not that kind of doctor, but Tony had seen himself in his science buddy. Bruce admitted on the helicarrier that he'd felt low, been suicidal, and Tony saw an in. He saw someone who knew what it was like, knew how he felt, and he needed someone like that.

He saw himself in Bruce, and that's why Bruce was the first to move in with him. Tony thought that, if Bruce managed to admit what he did in front of everyone, then maybe Tony would have the strength to do so himself. And if he spoke about how he felt to Bruce, then finally, finally someone would understand how he felt.

But Bruce fell asleep and acted like Tony was a nuisance, an annoying humming noise, and Tony backed off. He knew when he wasn't wanted- he spent his entire childhood surrounded by people who didn't want him- and he didn't bother trying to make himself wanted. He was a coward in that way, because running always seemed easier than dealing with things.

When Fury decided the rest of the Avengers were going to live in the tower too, Tony didn't bother arguing. Though New York made him relapse, again, in both drinking and cutting, the experience was almost fond to him. He fought with Earth's Mightiest Heroes- a fucking god and a giant green rage monster, and don't forget the super-soldier his father never shut up about.

It was weird seeing Natalie- Natasha, in her element with Clint. Also weird seeing her fight with such grace and skill that surprised him, even though he was previously informed of her real profession. But then Natasha came and lived with him, and he learnt of a whole new person. Natalie was never real, but Natasha was.

They didn't seem to want him to be real. The team, that is.

Bruce was okay, though he was a little dismissive of Tony's attempt to ask for help, which was something he'd never done before. Okay- maybe it wasn't asking for help, more so seeking out someone who understood, who would listen and relate. But the rest of the team were far from okay.

Thor, good old, loveable Thor, was an angel- well no, he was a God. But he was an angel too, for Tony. Thor was like a giant golden retriever and made it so easy for the team to feel close, but the problem was, Thor had a home to return to, and his visits on Earth were never long. 

It felt like someone was giving him a big, karmic fuck you by making the easiest person to get along with live on a whole other world.

Steve, Captain America, was exactly like Howard had described him as. Ethereal, completely flawless, strong, a good leader, relentless- you name it. He was also, like Howard said, disgusted by Tony. It felt like him just breathing would piss off the Captain.

The fight on the Helicarrier was supposed to be a one-off. Tony thought that after he sacrificed his life to save the world that maybe Captain America would change his mind and see that yes, Tony was the guy to make the sacrifice play (though that wasn't why he did it), but no. Tony couldn't win. Even after battle, Steve seemed to resent Tony.

Maybe it was because when Steve moved in, Tony was beyond drunk. It wasn't Tony's fault- he felt like he was about to have another panic attack. Steve was caught up on Tony's reputation, and seeing Tony drinking meant that everything else the media said about the genius had to be true. 

"He'd fucking hate you. He'd hate you if he met you. You're everything he goes against."

Tony hated the fact that his father was right.

Getting along with Natasha and Clint was hard. Tony didn't know who he was, and didn't know what his real personality was behind the flirting and the sarcasm, so he tended to flirt with Natasha way too much because he didn't know how to hold a conversation, or be whoever the fuck 'himself' was supposed to be.

Clint had a problem with that. Tony didn't know if they were dating or anything, but the two were fiercely protective over each other. They had each other's backs, always, and it made Tony feel all the more lonely, despite being surrounded by a team of superheroes.

So, when Tony flirted with Natasha, Clint would be pissed off with him too. Tony was sarcastic and childish otherwise, and so was Clint, and he assumed that could've been their common ground, but apparently Tony wasn't good enough for common ground. 

It was really fucking hard being unwanted.

Surrounded by a team of superheroes, people he risked his life for, people he almost died for, and they still hated him. Bruce only talked to Tony in the lab, and even then Tony's constant chatting seemed to strike a nerve. Bruce tried to hide the green tinge in his hands whenever Tony talked too much, but Tony always noticed.

Bruce never spoke up about how annoying Tony's constant talking was, though, so Tony didn't stop. The silence of the lab made Tony feel itchy, and Bruce didn't want Tony to play extremely loud AC/DC whilst they worked.

Bruce was civil, but he wasn't really a friend.

Clint and Natasha were definitely not friends.

Steve was so far from a friend it was insane.

Tony felt so fucking alone. He hadn't felt that kind of heart-aching loneliness since Ana and Jarvis died, when he returned to an emptier, colder mansion. He hated feeling like that again.

Maybe Tony wanted to feel the pain he felt when he was younger again. Maybe he wanted to have bruises and scars again. Or maybe he just wanted to feel accepted. Maybe he didn't want to feel his childhood pain again, actually. Maybe he didn't want to feel alone and afraid in his home, even though people lived with him.

He was so lonely growing up, even though his parents were in the mansion too. He felt lonely in the tower, even though his 'team' lived there too.

So he tried. He really did fucking try.

"Morning." Tony faked a smile when he realised the team were eating in the kitchen.

"It's eight pm." Natasha said tonelessly.

"Oh." Tony shrugged. "Evening, then." 

Tough crowd. 

"You gonna eat with us?" Bruce asked. 

Tony decided that even though Bruce seemed to get fed up of him, like everyone else, he was still the best in the team. "Sure. What are you guys eating?"

"Steve cooked."

"It's an old recipe from, you know, before." Steve said fondly. 

It was spaghetti and meatballs, which Tony didn't deem that special, but he didn't want to say anything to piss off the team. "Smells great."

"I'm sorry it's not gold encrusted." Steve retorted defensively.

"What?" Tony looked around like someone would explain. "I said it smells great." 

"You had a tone."

"You watch your fucking tone." 

"I didn't-" Tony sighed. Steve was doing exactly what Howard did all the fucking time when he was younger, and he didn't have the patience to defend himself. Defending himself against Howard always ended up with blood and bruises, so he kept quiet. 

"Just sit." Bruce gave Tony a look, and Tony felt like he was being scolded. But he didn't know what the fuck he had done wrong.

How had he messed up in less than five minutes? 

Tony sat down on the seat furthest from Steve, with no one on either side of him in order to prevent any unnecessary arguments. Even then, Steve seemed to have a problem with him, but didn't say anything about it. He just kept that judgy look on his face- one that Howard seemed to have whenever he saw Tony.

When Tony finally tried the spaghetti, he felt sick. Not because it tasted bad- but because it tasted familiar. Tony held his breath and tried to force the nausea to go away. This tasted exactly like what his mamma used to make him, before she lost herself to drugs. 

Maybe because Tony hadn't had spaghetti in a long time, or maybe because Steve had a correlation to his parents, but this was too familiar. There were a lot of things in his past that he wanted to keep in the past, tried to keep in the past, and this was it. Thinking of Maria Stark before she lost herself was one of those things.

That meant everything associated with her.

He noticed Steve was looking at him in anticipation, like he was waiting for Tony to say something about his cooking. Tony didn't know what to say, and the portion he'd eaten was still in his mouth. He realised, and swallowed it down uncomfortably, hating the way it made the gnawing pit in his stomach feel heavier.

"Did- did you know, erm, my mom?" Tony asked. 

"I don't think so." Steve looked at Tony with some sort of unreadable expression. "Why?"

"This, er, tastes familiar." 

"How so?"

"My mom-" Tony shook his head. "Never mind."

"No, say what you were going to say."

"No- no, it's stupid. Doesn't matter." 

"You think this is stupid?" 

Tony groaned. Of course he was misinterpreted, again. "No- not your cooking, just-"

"You always have something to say." Steve spat. "You can't just appreciate things, can you? Always have to ruin it by saying something. Why can't you just let things be sometimes?"

"Always?" Tony almost laughed. "What the fuck do you know about me? We've talked like once or twice, and you're saying I'm always like this? You don't know shit about me or what I'm like." 

"I know enough."

"From the media?" Tony raised a brow. "You're even stupider than I fucking thought if you think you really know me from what you've seen online."

"Is what I've seen false, then?" Steve challenged. "Alcoholic, right? First time I came here you were drunk."

Tony felt like there were bugs crawling over his skin. "That doesn't mean shit."

"But you're not denying it." Steve's tone was mocking. "Egotistical. First time I ever spoke to you, you were arrogant and bragged about everything you had. Selfish too-"

"I flew a fucking nuke into space." Tony shouted. "You do not get to call me selfish. And if I recall correctly, you were just as fucking arrogant. You're not that special just because-"

"Bringing up the serum again?" Steve sounded just like Howard. "It worked for me. That makes me quite special. If they tried it on you, it would do nothing, because you're everything but worthy and honestly, I wish Howard was here and not you."

Tony stared at Steve, looked around at the three other people who were there, silent the whole time, looked back at Steve and then stood up abruptly. He'd taken a singular bite of the meal, argued with Howard's greatest fucking creation, and was told his dead father would've been better company than him.

Tony felt his hands start to shake, and that was his cue to leave. 

"Fuck you, and fuck him too."

Tony had a panic attack. It had been a while since he had one of those, but he had one just then, and he felt like screaming. Of course Captain Perfect wanted Howard and not him. Tony would've been fine if Steve said he didn't want Tony, but the fact that he brought up Howard made all the anxiety come crashing down on him.

Steve reminded him of his father. Howard constantly talked about Captain America, compared Tony to him, acted like Captain America was his son and not Tony, and now Steve was doing the same. Steve wanted Howard and not Tony, and that fucking hurt. 

Just as Tony thought the panic attack was over, it came back, ten times worse. He shook his hands in the air and paced around, trying to get his brain to stop being irrational. He wanted to speak, wanted to reply to JARVIS trying to get him to say five things he could see, but he couldn't.

Fuck, he really hated panic attacks.

"Stark?"

Tony spun around, the overwhelming anxiety feeling like it was crushing his chest. Steve was there, looking at Tony like he was some sort of insane person. His arc reactor felt like it was being pushed all the way into his chest, crushing his heart and lungs, and he needed Steve to leave.

"Fuck off." 

"What's wrong with you? What are you doing?"

"Having a f-fucking dance party." Tony kept shaking his hands in the air. 

"I don't- what's going on?"

"Fuck off." Tony felt worse. He felt a thousand times worse with Steve in the room and he needed Steve gone.

"I- I wanted to apologise-"

"Leave." Tony shouted, his breaths coming short immediately after.

Steve stayed where he was, so Tony decided to try leaving instead. He could deal with his panic attack somewhere else. He tried walking around the super-soldier, but a strong hand gripped onto his arm, and ohfuckfuckfucknotnowpleasenotherepleasenotagain-

Tony physically recoiled. He practically jumped back, and in that moment he wasn't in his workshop, but in his father's study. Howard was shouting at him about something, and Tony wanted to leave, but Howard held tightly onto his arm, tight enough for it to bruise. 

He felt trapped in his own memories of his father, like a slideshow of every time he'd ever been hit. He liked the bruises then, but not now. Remembering the bruises and how he got them made him feel sick, so fucking sick. He felt like he was suffocating, and like he'd throw up, at the same time.

And then there was a hand on his shoulder, a gentle, warm hand. Delicate. A soft voice was speaking in a different language- Russian. His father didn't speak Russian, and his voice was everything but soft, his touch everything but gentle, his hand everything but warm.

"Vse v poryadke, ty v poryadke." 

That wasn't Howard.

"Ty v bezopasnosti. You're in the tower." The soft voice said. "Vse v poryadke, ty v poryadke."

Russian. The only person he knew who spoke Russian was-

"Natasha."

"You're okay."

Fuck, why the fuck was Natasha here? "What- you- er-"

"Steve didn't know what was going on. Came to us and said you looked like you couldn't breathe. And then he touched you and you freaked out and wouldn't respond at all." Natasha explained. "You okay?"

"Don't-" Tony stood up, ignoring the way he felt like he'd collapse. "I'm- don't pity me just cause- cause you caught me at a bad moment."

"That's not a bad moment." Natasha folded her arms over. "That was a panic attack which led to what I believe was a flashback of something, something triggered by Steve touching you." 

"Can you stop being a spy for one fucking second?" Tony snapped. "I get that you played spy with me before all this, but you don't have to now. There's no job."

"I'm not trying to be a spy." She sounded hurt, almost. "I'm just trying to help."

"Fuck off with your help." 

"If I was stupid, I'd be pissed off at you." Natasha began. "But I'm not. You're trying to pretend like this isn't bothering you, that nothing bothers you. You can't hide behind a front forever. It's bound to fail eventually."

"Fuck off." 

"It's linked to Howard, is it not?" 

"Can you give it a fucking rest?" Tony began to pace around again. "Not everything is your business. Just because you invaded my privacy before, does not mean you can do it now."

"Invaded your privacy?"

"The stupid report you wrote, which you did undercover as a fucking assistant. Not everything's a job."

"This isn't a job."

"Would you just fuck off?" Tony wanted to scream. "Leave me the fuck alone."

"Stark."

Tony left instead, because apparently no one understood what he meant by fuck off. He stormed over to his bedroom, made JARVIS lock it down and felt himself begin to cry. He fucking hated crying.

He'd been a dick to Natasha when she was trying to help.

Maybe it was time to cut again.

"What happened?" Steve had a kicked-puppy look on his face. "I didn't- I didn't hurt him, did I? Is he okay?"

"Of course you hurt him. You shouted at him for no reason."

"I meant physically."

Natasha didn't know whether she should explain what happened or not. It wasn't like Tony could hate her any more, could he? "Panic attack. You know what those are, right?"

"I'm not sure."

"It's like an episode of overwhelming anxiety. Makes you feel like your entire world is crumbling around you, like you can't breathe, like you might die." Bruce explained. "It's linked to anxiety disorders and PTSD, or-"

"Shell-shock?" Steve felt ill.

"Exactly."

"I did that to him?" 

"You didn't give him shell-shock, but yeah, it's likely your argument is what triggered his panic attack." 

"But- but then, why was he all.. gone, when I touched him?" 

Natasha looked uneasy. "Flashback. I don't know what of, but he was more vulnerable than usual at the moment, so touching him made him have a flashback. I tried to ask him about it but he completely denied my help."

"Is there something we've missed about Stark this whole time?" Clint asked. "I mean, I know he's probably got issues from Afghanistan, maybe New York as well, but-"

"What happened in Afghanistan?" Steve tilted his head in confusion.

"I don't know the full details, just a little bit from a SHIELD report, but he was held captive for three months. He didn't have the arc reactor before that." Clint shrugged. "I'm assuming being held captive for three months must've been traumatic."

"Flying a nuke into space must've been traumatic too." Bruce said, mostly to himself. "He didn't even know if he'd make it out. I'm pretty sure he didn't think he would."

"He knew he'd die?"

"Self-destructive tendencies." Natasha thought back to his report. "I watched him pretend like he wasn't dying and basically give up with life and not tell a soul. I think he was sure he'd die in the wormhole." 

"What?" 

"He tried talking to me after New York.." Bruce felt unbelievably guilty. "I think- I think he was reaching out. I didn't- I dismissed it like it was nothing."

"Don't dwell on it." Natasha said simply. "Feeling guilty won't help him. What we need to do is fix things with him. For starters, we should probably make him feel more welcome. This is his tower, after all."

Tony hated pity. It felt like shit, having people only ever start to give a shit when something happened. It felt like having reporters give condolences for his parents' deaths, when the week prior they were defaming Tony for whatever new thing they could shame him for.

He didn't want pity from Natasha or Steve or the team in general, but they were pitying him now. The sad looks, the frequent are you okay? and invitations to team meals or movie nights. Just because he freaked out a little did not mean they got to treat him like some pitiful outcast.

He avoided the Avengers like the plague. He wanted this- to be included in something, but he didn't want it because he was a lost cause. He wanted to be liked for him, not included to heal someone else's guilty conscience. So he stayed as far away from the superheroes in his tower as possible.

When they were called to Assemble and fought together, Tony stayed indifferent, and so did the rest of the team. But when the fight was over and it was time for debriefing, Tony flew off and figured he'd deal with Fury's whining later, alone. He just couldn't be around the Avengers.

He went to his workshop, downed half a bottle of whiskey and sought refuge in a blade. He didn't care about trying to stay clean anymore. If he wanted to cope unhealthily, he would.

It's not like anyone really gave a shit. Not that they could, because no one knew.

He wanted to keep it that way.

Tony did not get to keep it that way.

He'd been going to the kitchen at odd hours to make things to eat, just so he'd get to eat when all of the Avengers were scattered in the rooms, probably sleeping. But Bruce wasn't. He'd come out of his lab after a long experiment, also wanting to eat something, and bumped into Tony.

Tony tried to run, but Bruce didn't let him.

"I'm sorry for not listening to you." Bruce said quietly. "If that was a cry for help or-"

"Piss off with that bullshit." Tony rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to complain about something. I don't care that you weren't listening. It was just corporate complaints." 

Bruce didn't believe him. "If you say so. If you want to complain about anything, I'll listen. I won't fall asleep this time. Promise."

"It's okay. I have other people to complain to." Tony did not. Not really.

Bruce nodded, feeling defeated. He grabbed leftovers from the fridge, heated them up and left. He knew that if he hadn't left Tony alone, the billionaire would've left instead. It was better for Bruce to let Tony eat in peace than make him feel like running away.

He didn't realise he missed Tony's constant chattering and bubbly personality in the lab. The chattering was like a low hum, a reassuring one. It made Bruce feel like he wasn't alone, that he had someone. He didn't realise he missed it until he was gone, and the Other Guy missed it too. He wasn't happy with Bruce or the rest of the team.

Tony watched Bruce leave, feeling glad that the scientist knew Tony well enough to know that if Bruce didn't leave, he would. He felt an ache of sorts in his stomach, or maybe it was his chest, at the feeling of having comfort so close to him yet so far out of reach. Absentmindedly, he began to scratch at the fresh cuts on his wrist.

He heard someone move behind him and turned around to see Clint. The archer was staring at Tony's wrist, and though there was nothing on show thanks to his black, long-sleeved shirt, Clint knew something was up. Tony felt sick, because no one knew about the cutting, and no one could.

Because they'd try to make him stop, and he didn't think he could do that.

"What are you doing?"

"Making food." Tony said plainly.

"What are you making?"

"Leave-me-alone curry with mind-your-business rice." 

"That sounds really flavourless."

Tony ignored the archer and took his noodles (not curry and rice, he was just being sarcastic) with him to his workshop. Clint was following behind without any shame, and Tony found a smile on his face when he locked Clint out. The blond looked somewhat defeated, but also calm. He accepted that he wasn't welcome.

Tony didn't realise the whole reason Clint followed was to see if his arm would bleed.

It did.

Clint barely had any time to process his newfound information, or share it with Natasha, because they got called to Assemble bright and early at eight in the morning. There were Doombots scattered across the city, and of course the Avengers had to deal with them.

Tony went off and did his own thing, and managed to shut down the whole system somehow. At the most inconvenient time, Thor appeared on Earth, accidentally shifting Tony off-balance and sending him flying into someone's pool.

The problem with this was that JARVIS couldn't get back up in time, and Tony started sinking in a titanium-alloy coffin, and his fear of water didn't make things any better. He started to panic as the damages in the arm of the suit allowed water to seep in. 

He didn't know how long he was in the water for, but it was long enough for water to enter his mouth and go up his nose, and it felt like he was being waterboarded all over again. The memories of Afghanistan replayed over and over in his head, and the hands trying to pull him out of the water felt like the hands that held him tightly, pushing his face down into the cold water.

He fought against the hands, kicking and jutting his arms out, and he felt his hand hit something hard. Despite that, the hands pulled him out of the water and got him onto dry land. Someone was knocking on the suit, trying to tell him to leave the suit so he could cough the water out. 

Accidentally, someone triggered the emergency release, and Tony fell forward, choking and spluttering on the water that managed to get into his lungs. He felt himself vomit, though there wasn't much but bile there, and he clawed his chest in panic. He didn't want to get the battery wet. It hurt when the battery got wet.

"Vse v poryadke, ty v poryadke."

Russian. No one spoke Russian in the cave. Farsi, Arabic, Urdu even, but he'd never heard Russian. There weren't any women there either, so why was a woman speaking Russian to him?

"You're in New York. Ty v bezopasnosti." A soft hand on his shoulder, again. "No one's going to hurt you here, Tony."

Natasha.

Fuck, of course it was Natasha again. Tony realised he had done it again, and Natasha was going to ask questions. And then he was going to have to hide away in his tower again, walking on eggshells in his own home to make sure he didn't run into the team.

"You with me?"

"I'm with you." Tony said quietly.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'm sorry I pressured you last time." 

"Man of Iron, I am deeply sorry for hurting you. I did not mean to disrupt your flight." Thor almost shouted, and only then did Tony notice the whole team around him. Whoever's home this was, was luckily empty.

Tony would've rather died than have some civilian record him freaking out over water and post it online. It would've spread, and then people would have new, fucked-up things to say about him.

"Not your fault bud." Tony offered a weak smile.

"I am still apologetic." 

Tony shrugged and tried to stand up, even though his legs felt like jelly and his head was pounding. He felt cold inside and out, and he knew he'd probably end up ill from the water in his lungs. He decided he'd down some antibiotics and call it a day.

"Are you injured anywhere?" Clint asked. 

"No." Tony tried to return to his suit, but Thor held onto his arm.

"Why are you lying? There are wounds on your arm."

Tony didn't know how the fuck Thor had noticed, but he immediately panicked. Steve and Thor wouldn't get it, unless Steve educated himself some more since last time, but Natasha, Clint and Bruce definitely would.

"Accidents happen in the workshop, Point Break."

"I do not see how you could accidentally do this." Thor pulled back Tony's sleeves, revealing ladder cuts going up, the rest covered by the remainder of his sleeve.

Bruce had to look away.

Tony knew there was no way out of this, so he quickly entered his suit, ignored the water sticking to him and flew off as fast as he could. He locked himself in the workshop as soon as he got into the tower, and cried.

Someone knew. The team knew.

No one knew.

Fuck, Tony felt like dying.

"Thor, buddy, I'm glad you did that, but he's definitely going to freak out over it." Clint tried to be positive, but fuck, he hated that he was right about what he saw. "Do you mind flying back to the tower to keep him company?"

"What is the problem?"

"I'm not sure about Asgard, but here, when people get sad, they sometimes do sad things to themselves. In Tony's case, he cuts himself."

"Why would he cut himself? On purpose?"

"I don't know, Thor." Clint felt defeated. "Can you keep him company? I don't want him to hurt himself any more."

Thor nodded, flying off in Tony's direction. 

"He cuts himself?" Steve asked. "But- I don't understand? Why- is this a thing?"

"I wouldn't call it a thing, but, yeah I suppose." Clint answered. "Tony's not the first person to do it. A lot of people do."

"How wrong about him were we?" Steve was disgusted at himself. He'd been so harsh on Tony, caused him to have a panic attack, triggered his shell-shock, and had been completely blind to his mental suffering. And his physical suffering too. 

"Very wrong."

"Man of Iron?" Thor knocked on the blacked-out glass. "Would you allow me entrance, please? I would like to offer you company."

"Sir would like you to, in his words, fuck off."

"Ceiling talker!" Thor exclaimed. "Would you let me in?"

"I'm afraid I cannot."

"Would the Man of Iron be upset if I broke the glass with Mjolnir?"

"Yes." 

"Please convince him to let me in. I would not like to destroy his glass."

It was quiet for a little bit before Thor decided he'd take a swing. Just before Mjolnir was about to hit the glass, it cleared up and opened. Thor saw Tony sitting on the floor with a bottle of alcohol and a heavy expression on his face. Thor had seen soldiers after long, gruelling battles with such a look, and it made him feel uneasy.

"I am sorry I exposed your wounds to the team." Thor sat down beside Tony. "But I am also not sorry. It has come to my attention that you Midgardians do this to yourself when you are sad. You mustn't be sad in private. You must allow yourself companionship and help."

"Things aren't that easy for me." 

Thor hated the way Tony's voice sounded so helpless. "You must try. I will not let my companion fall."

"I won't fall, Thor." Tony said quietly. "I've been dealing with this for years, and I'm still here."

"For years?" Thor felt even more uneasy. "You've been battling sorrows for how many years?"

"Since I was a teenager."

"Teenage years..?" Thor made the connection in his head, realising how long it has been for Tony on Earth. "My friend, why do you feel like suffering alone? You have people, yet you hide away. Why is that?"

"I don't really have people." Tony admitted. "You're not here much, so you don't see it, but I'm not really friends with the team. We co-exist. They live in the tower, I live in the tower, but I'm not friends with them. No one really likes me."

"I like you." Thor said without hesitation. "I am sorry. If I was aware, I would have-"

"That's why you're not aware." Tony cut him off. "I don't want pity."

"This is not pity." Thor folded his arms over. "This is companionship. A true friend does not leave when their friend is hurt. Whether it be mentally or physically. It does not mean you stay out of pity. It means you stay out of care. And I care for you, my friend. I care deeply."

"You're the only one." 

"We're sorry, Tony." 

Tony looked up to see the rest of the team (how do they keep appearing everywhere?) and felt sick. He didn't want them to be listening. He didn't want to sound pathetic in front of heroes. But then again, he just complained to a God, so could he really get any more pathetic?

"We're sorry, Tony." Clint repeated himself. "We've been shit. We made you feel like an outsider in your own home and were blind to the shit you were going through. We should've made an effort and been kinder because this was your home, and you made it ours. I'm sorry. We all are."

"Don't apologise, it doesn't matter."

"It does." Steve said angrily. "We hurt you. I hurt you."

"That wasn't your fault. You weren't the one who hit me for years." Tony mumbled the last bit quietly to himself. He forgot Steve had super-hearing. 

"Hit you for years? You don't mean Howard, do you?" Steve felt sick when Tony didn't reply. "I'm so sorry. I- I compared you to him and he hurt you. And- and that's why you had a panic attack, and freaked out over me touching you?"

Tony shrugged.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Tony." 

"It's okay."

"It's not." Natasha was the one to say it this time. "I'm sorry. I made an unfair report on you and betrayed your trust. I'm not sure if I had any part in hurting you, but if I did, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You didn't- I don't- none of you have-"

"Don't bullshit, Tony." Natasha sat down in front of him. "Be honest. We've hurt you and we want to make up for it. We're sorry, Tony. We don't want you to make us feel better by lying. We want to know what's wrong, and what we can do to help you."

"I don't want pity."

"We're not pitying you." Bruce said. "We're making up for the hurt we've caused."

"It feels like pity."

"It seems like no one gave you comfort, so it feels like pity." 

"You're doing that shit again." Tony didn't like how exposed Natasha made him feel. "I'm not a-"

"Job." She finished the sentence for him. "I know. You're my friend, or I'd at least like you to be. This is me trying." 

Tony realised then that everyone's lives here must be incredibly lonely. Steve was a man out of his time, Bruce was afraid of hurting people so he isolated himself, Natasha and Clint were spies who haven't had a place to call home for a long time, or maybe even ever. And Thor didn't understand this world, so it must be lonely coming here.

"I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be sorry." Bruce smiled sadly.

"I'm not the easiest person to get alone with."

"But you are." Bruce said instantly. "The Tony I see in the lab is so easy to get along with. You take over the whole room, always have stories to tell to keep silence away, and you're so smart it's unbelievable. You're so genuine when we work together, and I feel sorry for people who don't get to see that side of you."

"I thought you didn't like how much I talked." 

"I love it."

"But you go green. I notice the little green patches. That's why I try not to- to talk so much or-"

"The Hulk loves it too. He loves you so much that he wants to be the one working with you. He's got your back in the field, and he wants your back in the tower too." Bruce explained. "I'm sorry I didn't make that clear. Don't limit your talking or limit the time you spend with me because you're afraid of pissing me off. You don't."

"Okay." Tony dug his nails into his palms, feeling uncomfortable at the affection he was receiving. He wasn't used to it at all. No one usually treated him like this.

Natasha took his hands, pulling his fingers away and rubbing the crescent-shaped marks gently. "Is it too much if I ask why?"

Tony knew what she was on about, and he shrugged. 

"Tell us as much as you want to. Even if it's nothing at all."

"It's grounding." Tony said, not knowing what else to say. "I- yeah, it's grounding. Erm, helps me prevent panic attacks, cause it gives me something else to focus on. I've been doing it since I was in college, on and off. That and drinking helps distract me from feeling like shit."

"I'm sorry I berated you for drinking. I shouldn't have without knowing why, and it wasn't my place anyway." Steve looked at Tony with a determined expression. "If you ever need someone to sit with you as you drink, I'm here. And if you want someone to talk to instead of drinking, or someone to distract you from drinking or hurting yourself, I'm still here."

"That's actually really sweet." Tony laughed, even though he was tearing up. "Fuck, erm, thank you. Actually. That's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"We're all here." Natasha decided. "Whenever you need, whoever you need. You understand?"

"Yeah. I do." 

Chapter Text

It took Tony Stark three months to recover from all the injuries he sustained during his fight with Captain America and the Winter Soldier. He had four broken ribs, a crushed sternum, hypothermia, a broken arm and several fractures scattered across his body. His face was beaten in and he had to go through some minor surgery for facial reconstruction.

He survived, thanks to FRIDAY sending out a distress signal right before Captain America crushed the suit's reactor. Rhodey, who had just gotten out of surgery, got the signal and sent an army to Tony, and was distraught to see his best friend in a hospital bed next to him.

Tony was distressed whilst in hospital, and had to be sedated on several occasions as he fought the nurses and hurt himself even more. He didn't want to be there, he wanted to see Rhodey. He wanted to make sure his best friend was alive.

Because he didn't want to be. When the fear of Captain America cutting his throat with the shield kicked in, he realised he never wanted to survive. He didn't want to be killed then, but he wanted to die so he never had to remember the pure, unbridled terror he felt in that moment.

Besides, he crippled his best friend, ruined his team and had most of them locked up, had driven his girlfriend away and probably traumatised a teenager. And JARVIS was gone. He felt like living wasn't necessary anymore.

So as he was forced to recover at home in his own medical room (because he hated hospitals more than anything), he thought about getting better just so he could convince everyone he was okay. Just so he could end it all and be free from the pain he was in.

Yes, the injuries hurt like hell, but the mental pain was worse. He couldn't stand the nightmares of St- Rogers' face as he lifted the shield. The guilt in the Winter Soldier's face as he watched his brainwashed-self kill Tony's parents. The fear in the Winter Soldier's face as he tried to defend himself from an anger-blinded Tony.

He kept replaying the 'Civil War' over and over in his head, and each time, he thought of all the ways it could've gone differently. All the ways they could've solved it without resorting to violence. Without causing Rhodey's paralysis, Tony's injuries and the ruined friendship. The family he broke- he'd do anything to restore it.

So whilst he was supposed to rest and recover, as soon as he could move his arms enough, Tony began to work on getting the 'Rogue Avengers' pardoned. He had a lot of guilt, mostly from things he was responsible for, but this guilt was overwhelming, and he'd drown if he didn't fix it.

For the last two months of his recovery, Tony had spent his time sitting on a bed with a StarkPad, sorting out paperwork and documents, calls and virtual meetings to make sure the Rogues came home, so they'd lose that stupid name and become Avengers again. Along with that, Tony was editing the Accords reasonably, making sure these heroes had human rights.

After physically recovering, it took another three months for Tony to sort out the rest of the paperwork, and then the Rogues surrendered and were monitored for a month before returning to the compound. The rules were that they'd sign the New Accords and stay under a trusted figure's watch, to make sure nothing happened. They had Tony, of course, to watch them.

He wouldn't really watch them. He wanted to make sure they knew that nothing had changed (even though everything had) and make them feel right at home. And so, now that everything was sorted, Tony had a month to sort himself out to make sure he was in the right state mentally to have the Rogues return.

He didn't realise how much the Civil War had affected him until then.

The first month, when he was hooked up to tubes and forced to stay on bed rest, he didn't even register the mental pain he'd gotten from the fights. He was on pain meds for the majority of that month (and it was a miracle he didn't get addicted again), and had people surrounding him constantly to monitor his recovery.

So when he threw himself into working and devoted five months of his time into getting his old team pardoned, he didn't stop and give himself a break, not once. That meant he was unable to sit and think about everything, and so he didn't even notice his rapidly declining mental state until he was alone with no one around and nothing to do and it hit.

It started with a nightmare about the Civil War, which wasn't normal for him. Tony's usual nightmares were about watching Pepper fall, losing JARVIS, the Battle of New York, Afghanistan and sometimes his childhood. But he'd never had a nightmare about the Civil War.

It was just a memory of being in Siberia, watching the Winter Soldier kill his mom. He remembered the grief resurface and overwhelm him, and then when the Winter Soldier tried to rip the reactor out of his chest. He remembered how it felt to have Obadiah Stane do the same, and he panicked and had broken his arm.

And then he was on the ground, Captain America pinning him down and raising his shield. Tony remembered the way he thought his friend was going to slam the shield into his face or his neck, and remembered throwing his arms up to defend himself. But then the reactor was disabled, and the shield cut through his suit and into his chest, and god, it was agony.

And then he was alone. He was all alone and he was ready to die. He had accepted that everything was different and he'd fucked everything up, and now he was going to die in Siberia and no one would even know. He would rot away there until all people could find was a skeleton in titanium alloy.

Tony woke up in his bed, in a cold sweat that reminded him far too much of freezing to death in Siberia. He couldn't handle heat because of Afghanistan, and now he couldn't handle the cold. He had FRIDAY always keep the building a mix of both, so he wouldn't freak out over the fucking temperature.

From that night, Tony just got worse. He'd have nightmares of Siberia so frequently that he'd start seeing Captain America's face, and he had to lock the shield up because it freaked him out so much. He'd see the Winter Soldier hiding in the corner of his room like a sleep paralysis demon and have to get FRIDAY to confirm that no one was there, over and over.

Things kept getting worse than that. Tony would have panic attacks, PTSD flashbacks and breakdowns left, right and centre. He couldn't handle being alone, because all he saw was people that weren't there. But all he ever was, was alone. Unless Rhodey came over.

He devoted his remaining freedom into making braces so that Rhodey could walk, and it was beautiful watching his friend do so. But that night, he watched Rhodey fall over and over and had to call his best friend at three in the morning just to make sure the man was alive, and he was.

But it still freaked him out, so he stopped sleeping and devoted his time to making suits with multiple power sources, so that Rhodey wouldn't ever get hurt again. Only for Rhodey, because Tony didn't care about himself. His own suits stuck to having a singular power source, because it felt greedy to protect himself.

The night before the Rogues were supposed to return was the night that Tony scared himself. He didn't mean to, but he was feeling so overwhelmed and tired of feeling like shit, having nightmares and fucking hallucinating, that he genuinely considered just stopping. He genuinely considered ending it so that he wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

And that terrified him. Because he meant it. He fully meant it.

He hoped that he'd never feel that way again, but that's also what he hoped when he first hallucinated the team. Right- the hallucinations had expanded and now he was seeing the whole team, with Ant-Man and even Wanda. But he was still hallucinating, meaning it was likely that he'd keep having those- those thoughts.

He was prepared to die in Siberia, but only because living seemed impossible. He was stranded and freezing to death, also injured heavily. So death seemed like the only way that situation would be over, and accepting it was the only reasonable thing for him to do, but this? This was different, because there was no impending death waiting for him.

These were his own, willing thoughts of dying, and it was horrifying.

He hoped having the team back would distract him enough to forget it even happened.

"Welcome back." Tony flashed a media smile. "Your rooms are as they were, only touched to be cleaned and dusted off. There's an additional one for Lang and Barnes. Barton, you've got permission to visit your family, with supervision. You're all allowed to train but can't use weapons unsupervised, and if you go out, again, supervision required. Also, no unnecessary violence. Other than that, you're free to do what you want."

Tony turned on his heel and was ready to leave, but then he heard some protests.

"Can I see my kid?"

"Wasn't aware you had one." Tony said honestly. "I'll see what I can do."

"Free to do what we want?" Wanda raised a brow. "Doesn't feel like we're free. I'd like to go where I want without having someone watch me."

"These rules are only temporary. And you guys have freedom of input in the New Accords as long as you're proven trustworthy, and the requests are reasonable. Eventually, I believe you'll all forget that there even are Accords."

"Why don't you have to heed these rules?" Sam asked.

"Because I signed the Accords and didn't break any rules."

They didn't like that answer, and before he knew it, there were a group of superheroes shouting in his face about how the Accords weren't fair and inhumane, and they had no reason to sign them before they were revised.

"Listen- listen, I know- I know they were awful, but I signed them so I could do this- so I could change them and make them better-"

"Quiet, Stark." Wanda hissed. "They kept me in a straightjacket because of those Accords. I don't care what your side of it was. It was wrong."

"Wanda, stand down." Steve commanded, and only then did Tony really realise he was there, with Barnes standing behind him.

Tony wanted to scream and panic and cry. This was the face he'd been seeing for a month, except with less hatred and thirst for murder in his eyes. And Barnes, standing quietly and almost unnoticeably behind him- it was just like the figure in the corner of his room.

Fuck, he had to go.

"Er, right, I've gotta- meetings and- bye." Tony left, in a very un-Tony way. If his father saw how he panicked, the man would've beat his son black and blue until he could compose himself better.

Stark men are made of iron.

Tony locked himself in his workshop, leaning against the desk with short breaths and tears in his eyes. Seeing Steve again was awful. He tried to convince himself he was ready despite the way he had been feeling for the past month, but he wasn't ready. He wasn't at all ready.

The memories of Captain America on the verge of murdering him flashed through his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on his breathing or the sounds of bots beeping around him, he couldn't get the memories to stop. Once they were over, they just replayed, over and over and over until Tony was crying on the floor and Dum-E was attempting to offer support.

Was he dying?

He didn't think he'd mind that so much.

And then the memories stopped, and Tony had stood up and backed himself into a wall. He'd thought of dying again, and he was afraid. Afraid of being hurt, of being betrayed again, but also of himself. If the Rogues- no, they weren't Rogues anymore- if the Avengers weren't going to kill him, then there was a chance that he would kill himself.

And for some reason, not a bone in his body was fighting against that.

"Boss, Steve Rogers is requesting access to the workshop."

Tony forced himself not to panic, instead reply like a normal person. "He's not allowed, and tell him not to try anything with the override codes, because his have been removed."

They hadn't, actually, so Tony scrambled to get rid of the override codes for all of the Avengers. As he did so, FRIDAY kept talking.

"He is refusing to leave. He says you need to talk to him, and then come down for dinner. I suggest you do, as it's been a day since you've eaten."

A day?

Tony hadn't even realised, since he'd been so stressed out, sorting out the Avengers and himself. Maybe he didn't have to eat right now. He could eat later, when everyone else was absolutely not going to ambush him.

"Tell him to fuck off. And that I've already eaten."

"You haven't-"

"And? I'll eat later, FRI."

"He is not leaving. I suggest letting him in and if anything goes wrong, I will intervene. Additionally, you will have the right to send him to the Raft."

"Fine."

Tony sighed, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn't expecting to have to talk to Steve so soon. He thought he could avoid the man for at least a month before the inevitable talk.

"Did you get my letter?"

Tony nodded. The letter promised that Steve was there if Tony needed him, but it felt like all he needed was the blond to stay as far away from him as possible. Having the man around only stressed Tony out, and despite the Civil War being seven months ago, it still felt like he didn't had enough time to recover.

"I'm sorry." Steve began. "I'm sorry that we fought. I was only doing what I thought was right-"

"Yeah, you said all of that in the letter. Forgive and forget. We don't need to talk about it."

Steve looked at him with such a hurt-puppy look that Tony just wanted to leave. "Tony-"

"It doesn't matter. Can you go now?"

"Come to dinner."

"Not the same without Bruce's cooking."

"Where did he go?"

Tony shrugged. He hadn't heard from his science bro since he disappeared, and that made the loneliness post-Civil War so much worse. He had no one to understand him, no one to work with him. He was completely alone.

"Come down anyway. We're having takeout."

"Maybe."

Steve sighed and walked out, muttering a quiet apology that he knew Tony would hear as he did. And when the door closed, Tony collapsed on the floor, shaking and holding back tears.

He composed himself during their talk, but after that- he couldn't. He couldn't stand seeing Steve in front of him, apologising and being hurt, feeling guilty for what he did. Tony didn't blame him for beating the shit out of him- he was protecting himself and went as far as a super-soldier would.

But it hurt. Of course it still hurt. Even though Tony wanted to forgive him, wanted to understand his side of the story, he couldn't. All he could think about was the doctor listing all of his injuries, and having to spend three months sitting in a bed to the point that he almost forgot how to walk. He struggled for a bit once he was walking again, but the fear of mocking Rhodey pushed him into walking regardless.

And then, of course, he had to build Rhodey's legs.

Seeing Steve again was like being in Siberia all over again, and for the second time that day, he found himself having a panic attack on the floor, only being able to ease himself out of it thanks to FRIDAY and the bots. Dum-E offered him a smoothie, no motor oil included, and FRIDAY suggested going down to eat.

She told him that he'd be able to sneak down and grab something without being seen, at least not by Steve or Barnes. He told her he'd rather die than do that, and he realised he fully meant it again, and god, he was scared of himself.

He was scared of actually doing it, and not because he feared death.

He decided to go down and get some food, even if it felt like the worst thing in the world, because at least he wouldn't be alone with his thoughts. Rhodey would return soon, hopefully.

"Tony." Natasha found him in the kitchen trying to figure out if any of the food was his or spare, not trying to give them any reason to hate him more.

"Natasha." Tony nodded, putting his hands in his pockets.

"That one's for you." She pointed. "How are you?"

"Splendid." Tony grabbed the food and tried to leave, but she stood in front of him, blocking his exit. "I'd like to go eat, so if you don't mind."

"I'm sorry." She said quickly. "For turning on you. Steve's a good friend-"

"He's my friend."

"So was I."

"Whatever- friends, bla bla. It's fine. Over and done with." Tony tried to push her out of the way, but she held her ground. He wished the floor would just open up and swallow him hole, and maybe he'd never have to see anyone again, or breathe again-

Fuck. There they were again. The stupid fucking thoughts.

"Why won't you let any of us talk?"

"It's not necessary. You're all back here and everything's sorted. No point picking at old wounds, or however the saying goes."

Natasha sighed. "Come eat with us. We're watching a movie. Let it be like old times."

It'll never be like old times.

"I don't-"

"Come eat with us." She repeated, sternly. She wasn't asking, she was demanding it. And she scared Tony almost as much as those repetitive thoughts, so he let himself get dragged to the living room.

"What's he doing here?" Scott whispered to Sam, who shrugged.

Tony sat as far away from all of them as possible on the sofa, and ate his food quietly. This wasn't bad. As long as no one talked and everyone sat quietly and ate, he would be perfectly fine and eventually he'd be able to go and hide in his room or workshop.

He watched the movie intently, interested in what was going on, until the two characters went out in the snow and the girl fell into the lake, and ohmygodtheroomwastoocoldandhewasbackinSiberiaandhehadtofuckinggetoutorhe'ddiehewasdyinghewasdyinghewasdying-

Tony left his food on the sofa and practically ran out of the living room, ignoring all the stares and hushed whispers. He knew they'd probably talk about how fucking insane he was and how he wasn't even strong enough to go through a singular movie with them, but he didn't care in the moment.

He felt like he was dying all over again. FRIDAY had put the temperature up a dangerously high amount - for him - in order for him to realise that there was no snow, no freezing temperature here that would make him feel like he was back in Siberia. Eventually, when he came back to reality, thanks to Dum-E, U and Butterfingers pestering him, the temperatures lowered quickly to not trigger an Afghanistan-related panic attack.

Tony wanted to die.

He didn't fear that thought anymore because it was true. He was fed up of feeling the way he did. The nightmares and flashbacks and panic attacks were too hard to deal with, and seeing his teammates didn't help at all. He wanted to die.

He wasn't afraid.

After a week of avoiding everyone and trying to find a reason not to end it, Tony gave up with the internal battle. If he felt like it, he'd do it. That seemed like a reasonable enough plan, in his opinion. So he went down to get food and decided that if something went wrong, then that was it. If not, he'd stay.

At least until something else went wrong.

It was a team dinner in the kitchen, with everyone sitting comfortable at the dinner table, eating a curry that was meant to replicate Bruce's cooking. Tony knew it wouldn't be the same, but he figured he'd give it a try.

"Look who finally came out of the workshop." Clint laughed. "Was Five Feet Apart too emotional for you?"

Tony glared at the archer before fixing himself up a plate and sitting down at the far end of the table. He would've preferred not to sit so close to Steve and Barnes, but there was nowhere else to sit.

"I don't blame you. Stella and Will were supposed to be together eventually." Clint said sadly. "But the worst bit was when Poe-"

"Too far." Sam sniffled sadly. "That's enough. Don't bring up such awful memories."

Tony snorted. Ironically, the movie had brought up awful memories for him.

"Next movie we're watching is The Fault in Our Stars. That book broke my heart, and I haven't watched the movie yet."

"As if you read."

"Shut up, Tasha."

"Call me that again and I'll impale you with this fork."

Clint dragged his chair away from her as far as he could without bumping into Wanda. "That is completely harsh. And you never have a problem with it when we're fighting together."

"Shut up."

Tony smiled. This was going perfect so far, and he didn't even feel like dying, for once. The past week was a constant battle in his mind, the rational side telling him not to, and the damaged side telling him that he should. So being here, in the peacefulness of friends jokingly arguing, was a refuge from all of that.

And then Steve lifted his arm and Tony dropped his fork loudly, leaning back in his chair as much as he could to get away from the blond. He stared at Steve in fear, only seeing the man with the shield raised above him, and not the man trying to scratch his neck.

All eyes were on him, and fuck, they all knew. They all knew how fucked up he was, because Steve Rogers trying to scratch his neck made Tony jump and shy away.

Steve still terrified Tony. Now everyone knew how much.

Instead of trying to play it off, Tony ran out, yet again, leaving his plate mostly untouched and his chair untucked. He didn't care about the fact that they were all definitely talking about him, no, all he cared about was getting this stupid shirt to stop suffocating him and making sure his mind didn't take him back to Siberia.

He was so fed up. 

"Did you guys see that?" Steve asked.

"See Stark drop his fork loudly and then leave as quick as he possibly could?" Scott asked sarcastically. "Yes, Steve, we all saw that."

"No- I mean- Natasha, you saw it, right?"

"Steve raised his hand and Tony jumped." She said simply. "He's afraid of you."

"Why is he afraid of Steve?" Clint asked incredulously. "He's like a giant golden retriever. It's impossible to be afraid of him."

"It's highly possible when that golden retriever beat him and left him to die in the freezing Siberia weather." Natasha looked at Steve accusingly. She was on Steve's side, but she didn't respect what he did in Siberia. She told him many times that he shouldn't have left him there.

And maybe shouldn't have almost killed him by digging the shield into the suit's reactor.

"He has a heart under that suit, Steve. A fragile one. The suit is strong, but it isn't impenetrable. The shield is stronger than his suit. You are stronger than him. You could've killed him. Did you think about that?"

"You did what?" 

"I didn't- I was protecting Bucky." 

"You almost killed him." Natasha said. 

"I- He was fine. He is fine. All I did was break the suit's reactor." Steve defended. "He wasn't actually hurt. There would've been some sort of news if he was."

"Didn't you see the news a few days after it happened?"

"We- we were hiding. We weren't in Wakanda yet."

Natasha sighed and asked FRIDAY to play the news. She didn't want to, but she asked the AI to in order to protect Tony, and she caved. 

"Tony Stark hospitalised after the Avengers' Civil War. Sources say he was beaten and found in Siberia after a heated fight between Iron Man and Captain America, who had the Winter Soldier on his side."

"And what injuries has the Merchant of Death sustained?"

"His medical records state that he has four broken ribs, a crushed sternum, hypothermia, a broken arm and several fractures scattered across his body. His face was beaten in and he will have to go through some minor surgery for facial reconstruction. He is currently unconscious due to the injuries."

"Was he in his suit? If so, how is it that he's so badly injured? Is it possible that the suit is not as strong as we all thought?"

"Studies show that Vibranium, the material of which Captain America's shield is made from, is stronger than Iron Man's titanium-alloy suit material. This means that if he fought Captain America, it's likely that the shield damaged the suit, and him, much more than anyone had expected. Is it possible the Captain did this on purpose?"

"Perhaps. Where is Captain America now? Will he be held responsible for his crimes? Is he as injured as Tony Stark?" 

"We doubt it. More news on Iron Man's condition will be spoken of when we get a chance to find out what has happened. Thank you for listening, and good luck to Tony Stark. We hope his recovery is quick and not too painful."

The dinner table was quiet. Steve had a look of guilt on his face that no one had seen before. He'd never felt so remorseful in his life, so angry at himself for not realising how hurt Tony would be. He saw Tony's bleeding face and ignored it, not realising that yes, the suit was strong, but no, it wasn't strong enough, and Tony could still get hurt underneath it.

He was a super-soldier. He was stronger than Tony and always would be, and so was Bucky. They were both stronger and could heal easily. Steve had forgotten that humans were more breakable and healed slower. He'd forgotten that Tony was human.

"Colonel Rhodes had that news report taken down the moment he discovered it. The doctor who leaked the medical records was fired, and Boss never knew about it. Miss Romanoff was never meant to see the news report."

"Then why show it to us?"

"Because none of you understood the severity of Captain's actions. It was clear that no one would care unless they knew how bad Boss was injured."

"Is- is he okay now?" Steve asked quietly. "Were any of the injuries long-lasting?"

"Have none of you noticed the way his left hand shakes? His left arm has been injured many times. He asked me if it was normal for it to be numb during the-" Natasha paused. "And now his hand shakes a lot."

"I thought he just had shaky hands or something." Scott muttered.

"He's an engineer. Steady hands are a must." Natasha felt like she was the only one paying attention to anything. "His left hand shakes unnaturally. His right is fine. His hand never shook so much up until now. I believe that broken arm has healed but still causes him issues, meaning yes, this injury might be long-lasting."

"Miss Romanoff is correct. His left arm has been injured heavily, and the most recent one has caused it to shake constantly. It is not just Captain America's fault."

"What else damaged it recently?"

"At the airport, several cars fell onto his arm and crushed it under the suit. It was healing up until the fight in Siberia, and the injury he faced there has caused it to struggle to heal. Hence the shaking."

Guilt gnawed at Wanda's stomach, something she didn't like feeling. She didn't feel bad for Tony, up until now. She hadn't realised that he was human, and that he felt pain and could get hurt. She didn't like feeling guilty, but she knew that she'd done wrong. She would make it up to him eventually.

"Where is he now?" Steve asked. "I want to see him."

"I don't think that it wise. Boss is.. not in the state to see you. I believe seeing you will just make things worse. Perhaps you should stay away for some time, or approach him with someone else by you. Not Mr Barnes."

Bucky, who'd been silent the whole time, looked up guiltily. He knew he was just defending himself in Siberia, but he still felt bad. He should've convinced Steve to stop fighting so much, maybe simply restrain Tony without harming him and talk things out whilst Bucky retreated.

"I'll see him." Natasha offered. "But I believe Tony isn't afraid of Bucky." 

"How come?" He asked quietly. "I killed his parents."

"He was angry, but he knows you didn't want to. You didn't know. I believe he doesn't blame you for it." She smiled sadly. "It's about time you two talk."

"Alright."

"Boss, Miss Romanoff and Mr Barnes are approaching. I suggest you run some cold water on your face and prepare yourself to talk to them."

"Can't you get them to fuck off?"

"You must talk to them."

Tony groaned and mumbled something about his own AI being a snake as he walked over to the sink to wash his face. He looked in the mirror and sighed at the sight of his dark bags and heavy eyes. He was so tired.

"Tony."

The genius jumped, not hearing the superspies' quiet footsteps. He turned around and flashed a fake smile. "What's up?"

"Bucky needs to talk to you. And I believe the team owe you some apologies." Natasha began. "And I do too. I should've checked on you after everything. I'm sorry you were hurt. I'll do better."

She kept her apology short and simple, learning from the previous conversation. Tony liked that. She said everything she needed to quickly, and he nodded in gratitude. He appreciated that from her. She was his favourite in the team, despite the betrayal. 

She was doing what she thought was right, and Tony understood.

"I'm sorry about your parents." Bucky said quietly. "I didn't know, and I wasn't in the right mind. Regardless, I'm sorry that I killed them. And I'm sorry about Siberia. I was only trying to defend myself, and I know you didn't want to hurt me, you were just angry. I should've done better to stop us from fighting."

"You're right. I was angry. But I shouldn't have fought you anyway. You don't have to be apologetic for trying to defend yourself."

"Steve and I, we're two super-soldiers who will always be stronger than you. We should've held back in order to not hurt you."

"It's alright Manchurian Candidate. You didn't do much damage, at least to me. If anything, I'm sorry I broke your arm." 

"It hurt." Bucky said. "Not you breaking it- the arm itself. It wasn't designed to be comfortable. It was just a replacement for my real arm that they shoved on without any care for my body. Breaking it gave me the opportunity to get a new one, one made for my comfort. So thank you for that."

"I- you're welcome." Tony didn't expect that.

"We all owe you apologies." Natasha said once their conversation was definitely over. "Come down, please. Finish your dinner."

Tony, despite feeling awful earlier, agreed. His conversation with the Winter Soldier relieved him and made him feel less guilty about the broken arm. He didn't know why they suddenly felt bad, but he didn't mind. If they were apologetic, then he'd listen and accept it.

He didn't feel unable to accept it. He thanked Natasha mentally for getting Barnes to talk to him. He went back to the kitchen with a less heavy heart and a clearer mind. 

"I'm sorry for not noticing how damaging my shield was, and for how much damage two super-soldiers could cause. I know you didn't want to talk, but I need to say this. You deserve the apology. You didn't deserve the pain I caused you, whether it's physical or mental. I'll do better. We all will." 

Tony didn't expect Steve to bombard him with an apology the moment he walked in, but it felt good. It felt good because his voice was so sincere and his face showed it. He sounded sincere. He meant it all. Tony could tell.

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry for throwing cars at you." Wanda said quickly. "I can help make the shakiness of your hand go way."

Tony looked at his hand and looked up, wishing none of them noticed it. It felt embarrassing, but Wanda had already done something, and his arm was red momentarily. And then.. he could feel it now. It wasn't numb and shaky. It felt like his arm before all the years of injuries he faced. 

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice giving away the emotion his face was masking. 

Wanda didn't like Tony. She'd repaid her debt. But hearing the pure gratitude in his voice made her soften a little, and she smiled and decided to give the billionaire a chance.

"We're going to fix our team, together. We're done fighting and throwing hateful comments." Steve looked at Clint, who threw his arms up in defence. "We're gonna do better. You have my word."

"I owe you all apologies too, for the Accords and-"

"You apologised by getting us here, pardoned and under revised Accords that treat us more humanely. You've done your part, now let us do ours." Steve smiled.

"Alright." Tony nodded. 

The team didn't fix in an instant. It took a while for them to ease back in to their old familial ways, and include the newer members into it. But now they had, and they felt like home again. And Tony loved it.

He still wanted to die sometimes, like when the nightmares wouldn't go away, or his PTSD would get triggered. But then all of it stopped one day, and he had no idea why.

No one ever found out that Wanda had started manipulating all of their minds to stop being affected so heavily by their mental pain. She was repaying them for taking her in and making her feel less grief from losing her brother.

Tony was better. The team were home again.

All was well.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was a man who had lots of stories to tell to his future children. Whether it was how he ended up with an arc reactor in his chest, or how he ended up fighting with the Earth's Mightiest Heroes, and then how he lost his AI and ended up disbanding his team. He had a lot of stories to tell, but he wouldn't be able to.

Because after he lost his team, after everything he loved and held dear came crashing down on him, he realised he might not want to live long enough to have kids. Or live at all.

Tony was strong, and he'd gotten through a lot of shit. He'd survived an assassination, escaped a terrorist group without making the weapon they tried forcing him to make, created a suit and saved a lot of people from said terrorists, and then used variations of that suit to keep saving people.

And a lot of that scarred him. But he was good at compartmentalising, and that meant he wouldn't realise how bad all of the things he went through actually was.

After New York, he started getting nightmares and anxiety attacks, but that was fine. It was just about New York, and it wasn't very likely that there'd be another hole in the sky leading to floating alien headquarters. It was easy to get over that. (He forced himself to - he didn't want to look weak in front of his team.)

Speaking of that team, he missed them an unbelievable amount. He loved them so fucking much, and he only realised it when he lost them.

When he lost a part of himself.

He wouldn't ever admit it, but that night in Siberia, something died. When Captain America destroyed his arc reactor, a part of Tony died. He thought he was going to die, but then FRIDAY's emergency distress signal saved him. And he came back to America, injured, but alive.

Still, a part of him was missing.

Tony was heavily injured. He hadn't realised how badly he was injured until Rhodey cried by his bed- in a wheelchair. Fuck, Tony forgot his best friend was now paralysed. He decided then, that as soon as he could, he would build Rhodey legs. 

"I thought you were dead, man." Rhodey said. "They told me your sternum was broken, along with five of your ribs, and you could've punctured a lung. But with your history, because of the arc reactor, you were so much more vulnerable. They thought you were going to die."

Tony didn't know what to say, because to be honest, he was so high on morphine. The doctors were allowed to give him drugs, just this once, because of how bad the injuries were. No one knew Iron Man was so weak, even with the suit. At least, they didn't know he was so weak against Captain America. 

No one ever expected to see them fight.

Tony was discharged from the hospital a week later, transferred to the medical floor in the Tower, because Tony hated public hospitals. He was kept on morphine for a few weeks, doses getting lower and lower to wean him off. Tony didn't want to get addicted, so he didn't argue, even though the pain was still unbearable.

On several occasions, he considered ripping the IV out carelessly, knowing that if he didn't do it properly he could get a blood infection or let air into his vein, which could kill him. But then he remembered he had to build Rhodey legs. The only thing keeping him going was building Rhodey legs.

When Tony was finally allowed to roam free, almost two months after he was found in Siberia, he went straight to building. It was nice and relaxing, to finally be doing what he loved most, and it was a good distraction from all the bad things in his life.

It took him a week to build Rhodey's legs, and Rhodey cried when they worked, and he could walk again. It would never be the same, and both Tony and Rhodey knew that, but it was the closest to Before that Rhodey would ever be, and that was enough. 

Tony missed Before.

Tony hassled Rhodey about his legs a lot. There wasn't much to work on, or anything at all, because a part of Tony couldn't bring himself to build anything anymore, so he kept hassling Rhodey, trying to update and perfect the braces.

Rhodey let it happen three times before telling Tony, politely, to fuck off. He saw through his best friend and decided that he wanted Tony to make a self-driving car for Rhodey, one that was definitely safe and wouldn't ever hurt him, because Rhodey wasn't sure he'd ever drive again. 

So Tony did exactly that.

Rhodey kept making odd requests, like make this toaster a thousand times better or make me several other pairs of braces just in case these ones are damaged, or make me a new War Machine suit for when we go flying together again. Tony was most afraid of the last request, so he spent a lot of time on it.

Exactly what Rhodey wanted. He knew his best friend was going through things, things he'd never talk about, so it was easier to just feed into the coping mechanism he had going. If Tony wasn't going to talk, at least he could express himself through building.

But then, finally, enough was enough, and the weird requests had to stop. Rhodey had to return to the military to discuss his position now that he was partially compromised. 

Tony was all alone.

Pepper had come by when Tony was in the hospital, but it broke her heart to see him so powerless and hurt. It was nothing like the Tony she knew, the Tony she loved. So she let Rhodey take care of Tony, because the two had a bond she couldn't ever live up to- and she didn't want to.

She buried herself in work, making sure PR handled everything that happened recently, and kept the company running without Tony. It was difficult, not having the head of R&D, but she was feisty and held her ground in boardrooms, and they agreed to not having new products to sell for the time being.

When Tony came home, she was away on business. But then Rhodey had left, and she cancelled all the meetings, because she knew Tony well enough to know that he didn't want to be alone, even if he insisted he did. Because if he really did, he'd be in lockdown in his workshop.

Pepper found him in the workshop, which wasn't in lockdown, staring into space. The destroyed suit from Siberia was still sitting on the floor where she'd had it placed, and he hadn't made an effort to fix it. Nor had he built any new suits.

"You okay?"

"I'm okay."

Tony looked so defeated, so purposeless. So Pepper did the only thing she thought she could do, and gave him something to work on. A few sheets of paper describing what the company was thinking of creating, if it could be created, and Tony had a smile on his face.

Pepper would've thought something was wrong, because he was happy to work, but she knew more than that. Being given something to do made Tony feel useful, and she was helping him feel useful. She decided she'd keep giving him random things to make, even if it wasn't just for the company.

She then told him to make her a suit, so one day, she could be there to protect him. It was hard to see him almost break down over making another suit, but she said she wanted to feel safe. And that was enough to make him do it, just for her.

And then, he finally made a new suit for himself.

A part of Tony Stark was back. Pepper didn't need to worry anymore.

Ever since Siberia, Tony had felt.. he didn't know what he felt. He was so busy trying to be better, physically, that ignored whatever was going on mentally. He repressed how he felt with building, with worrying about Rhodey, with trying to do better for the company.

He spent weeks making a suit for Pepper, to keep her safe. It was almost as scary as making Rhodey's new suit, but it was okay because he'd learnt from his mistakes and made several power sources. The arc reactor was obviously the main one, but there were backups all over the suit.

He wouldn't let someone else's spine get crushed on his watch.

He didn't think he could handle that, if it did happen.

He kept making updates and adjustments to Pepper and Rhodey's suits, but then he knew enough was enough. And it was time to make one for himself. I am Iron Man. The suit and I are one.

He couldn't live up to the statement, live up to what he fought for, without his suit. So he had to make himself one. 

A part of himself felt alive again, building a suit. It felt like Before, before Siberia, and New York. It felt like just after Afghanistan. It felt like being in the cave with Yinsen again- and that hurt a little bit, so he pushed that thought away and focussed on building.

He now had a suit for himself, Rhodey and Pepper, and he felt somewhat whole again.

He'd never be complete without his team, though.

Tony spent his whole day flying around, high enough for no one to spot him and put him back in the spotlight. And as he flew around, he knew it felt wrong to be flying without the team. He missed working with them, not against them.

And he hated how they were called Rogues. They weren't Rogues- they just wanted to fight for their human rights, for Captain America's best friend. Barnes was innocent, Rogers was stubborn and the team were loyal.

That didn't make them criminals.

So he dove into working on them. It seemed like working was his new fix, because he didn't care about anything else when he worked. Working was always a good distraction from real things, but it was doing a lot more now. It was distracting him a lot more, from a lot more.

He spent over a month arguing, negotiating and defending the Avengers in order to have them come home. He demanded an edited version of the Accords, one that was more humane and agreeable. He made sure it would be something Steve would agree to.

After that month of hard, dedicated work, he had finally fought enough to bring the Avengers home, from wherever they were. He called Steve, and that was incredibly hard, and made sure to say everything important as quickly as he could before hanging up. He barely heard Steve's voice.

He wasn't sure he wanted to.

In the past few months since Siberia, he'd been getting worse. Tony didn't want to admit he was getting worse, but he was. His nightmares were more frequent and vivid, and anxiety attacks became a regular thing.

He kept avoiding sleep like it was the plague, leading to him hallucinating to due to sleep deprivation. He was lucky that, sometimes, when he passed out, he'd sleep dreamlessly. But on most occasions, he had nightmares.

He dreamt of Siberia, of New York, and even Afghanistan. He'd pushed Afghanistan so far back in his mind that he was surprised the memories came back, especially in his dreams. It was almost worse, because he'd never had a nightmare because of Afghanistan.

Maybe he wasn't as good at blocking things out anymore. Maybe he needed to try harder.

It was easier then because you drank.

Tony didn't want to drink anymore. He would lose all the credibility he earned if he became an alcoholic again- and he didn't want to ruin his own progress. Not being an alcoholic was one of his proudest achievements, not that he'd ever admit that.

So he suffered with nightmares. He struggled with anxiety attacks. But he didn't tell anyone, and he didn't let it bother him. He had work to distract himself with. If he dwelled on it, it would be worse. So he had to just compartmentalise and hope for the best.

The Avengers were back, and Tony felt ill. He was currently living in the empty compound, and forgot that he was supposed to house them all back in the compound. He never cleared out the team's rooms, or changed anything, so it was fine to have them back. Physically.

Even though he'd wanted this, even though he'd fought for this, he wasn't sure if he was actually ready. But he had no time to dwell on it, to stress about it, so he just compartmentalised that too and welcomed his team back in with open arms.

The team didn't seem happy to see him, but Steve was courteous as always (except in Siberia, when he almost killed Tony- but it's fine- he didn't mean to), and thanked Tony for what he'd done. He spoke on behalf of the team, but Tony could tell the whole team wasn't as grateful as Steve said.

Having the team back didn't change much. Tony still felt as alone as ever, and the team seemed closer without him. They were back in the home he'd bought for them, using the food and equipment he'd supplied, and yet he was so fucking alone.

He wanted Rhodey back, but he knew Rhodey's work in the military was important to him. Whatever Rhodey was up to now had to be important, because he'd told Tony he wouldn't be back for a while.

After Tony paralysed his best friend, he figured letting him go back to what made him proud would be the least he could do.

He wanted to call Pepper and tell her he still loved her, that he would always love her, but she was busy running his company. And he respected her so much for that, that he wouldn't disrupt her. She worked better when she wasn't dating him.

It was the night the Avengers came home that everything began to fall apart.

It all started with a nightmare of Cap and Barnes in Siberia, beating the shit out of him and almost killing him. Being alone on the floor, suit damaged and essentially a titanium-alloy coffin, he remembered wishing that death would take him there and then. But he'd compartmentalised that.

And then he ended up dreaming of Yinsen, seeing the man dead, happy to be dead, and then remembering what it felt like to be waterboarded. Then he remembered flying a nuke into space and not thinking he'd ever come back, thinking that he'd die floating in space, never to be found.

He dreamt of watching Pepper fall, thinking she was dead, watching Rhodey fall, knowing that it'd be easier if he was dead, because a fall from that height should've killed him, and if it didn't Rhodey would be left with injuries bad enough to wish he died instead. He dreamt of the shield in his suit.

He dreamt of Howard. 

He dreamt of his father talking about Captain America, talking about him being his greatest creation, telling Tony that he'd never live up to Captain America. That if Tony ever met the super-soldier, the hero would hate Tony for the pathetic scum he is. And then he dreamt of Captain America telling him that Tony was nothing without his suit, and feeling like Howard was right.

He dreamt of finding out his parents died, that his mom died, and then seeing the footage of how they both really died. And then it circled back to Siberia again, and it felt like a painful loop, a haunting loop. It kept going over and over, but Siberia was the one that hurt most.

Tony woke up with phantom pains of his sternum being broken, remembering what his body had tried to protect him from feeling due to the morphine. It felt like the pain all over again, before the morphine, before the rescue. It felt like just After, when he was lying in his suit like it was a grave.

He wished it was his grave.

He knew he had done well for the team, for Rhodey and Pepper, but that was it now. He had no other purpose in life. He'd done all he could and that was it.

Everything he compartmentalised had come crashing down, the mental walls blocking out all the difficult things crumbling within seconds. His chest became heavy, like the shield was still crushing it, and he felt like he couldn't breathe.

His head hurt, his stomach hurt, his chest hurt. Everything hurt, and he wanted it all to stop. He wanted everything to stop. The pain only just begun but he already wanted it to be over, and he'd do anything be over.

He felt like he was going to throw up and his lungs weren't working anymore. Was his blood not circulating around his body enough? Was oxygen not travelling to the right places? Was this his body malfunctioning or his brain?

Was it him? 

Tony felt sick, so fucking sick, and his head was pounding. He felt like the shield was slamming into his faceplate over and over again, and god, everything fucking hurt. He wanted it- no, he needed it to stop.

How was he supposed to make it stop?

"..It is ten-thirty pm, you are safe."

Tony looked up, the overwhelming anxiety beginning to fade, and his breathing started to go back to normal. He didn't know how long he'd been panicking for, but it felt like eternity.

"Thanks FRI."

"Of course, Boss."

Tony collapsed, his head falling back onto the soft pillows of his bed. He didn't know what came over him, but he knew that was the worst nightmare he'd ever had, and he remembered every single part of it.

Worst of all, he remembered how he longed for death.

It wasn't until the next day that Tony realised, this whole time, he'd been longing for death. In Afghanistan, he felt like he'd rather die than be waterboarded again, and in New York, he didn't want to die but he wasn't against dying if it meant saving the world. Hell, he'd almost died of palladium poisoning, and at some point he'd been okay with actually dying.

He didn't know if Natasha saving him was a blessing or a curse.

He'd craved the sweet escape of death Before, and he craved it even more After. Siberia fucked him up, fucked up what was already fucked up. Now that everything was falling apart, he didn't think he could pick himself up.

Maybe it was time to say goodbye. 

He was getting really fucking tired.

"Rhodey?" Tony hadn't talked to his best friend in a while. "You busy?"

"No, I've got a few minutes. What's up?"

"Just wanted to know how you've been. I, er, miss you." 

"I miss you too, Tones." Rhodey said affectionately. "I've been training, figuring out how I can keep working with the new braces. They've been working wonders, Tones. I'm glad you were able to build me legs."

"I don't think I would be alive if I didn't." Tony admitted.

"Don't be dramatic." Rhodey laughed. "Of course you would be."

I would've let myself die, if I didn't have to make you legs. "You know me, always one for theatrics. Do you know when you're coming home?"

"Probably not for a while." He paused. "Why? Do you need me to come back? Cause I'll sort something out if-"

"No." Yes, please, I think I'll die without you. "No, I just miss you." 

"I can come back."

"It's okay." Tony reassured. "It's not that bad. I think I can wait until whenever you come home. You keep doing whatever you're doing, and keep singing my praises for those legs of yours."

"Of course, Tones." 

"Love you." Tony said quickly.

"I love you too. I'll call you when I can."

"Goodbye, Rhodey."

He hoped Rhodey didn't realise how final that sounded.

Tony wondered if the Avengers would miss him if he died. He was basically a ghost in his own home. Did they even remember he was in the compound with them? He didn't know. He hadn't talked to any of them since they came back.

He couldn't remember when they came back. Was it recently? It was- wasn't it? 

Tony thought he was losing it.

He probably lost it a while ago.

He decided to wander for a bit. He didn't remember when he last ate an actual meal. He'd been eating random cereal bars now and then in the workshop, but he hadn't eaten anything actually filling in a while. His stomach growled at him loudly, making him think he definitely needed to eat something.

He bumped into the Avengers in the kitchen, because just his fucking luck, and he tried to supress the anxiety that bubbled up in the pit of his stomach. Supressing his emotions was what made things get so bad, but he had to in front of them.

He couldn't make himself look any weaker.

"Oh, shit, you're here?" Clint was the first to notice. "Man, we thought you moved out or something."

"You gotta watch your back with this guy. There's a chance he's gonna break it."

Tony felt sick. "I am. Moving out. I've just been packing up all my stuff."

"How come?"

"I just prefer the tower." Tony said casually, as if he hadn't just decided to move out on the spot. 

"When are you leaving?" Steve asked.

You aren't even gonna ask me to stay? "Today. Erm, now, actually. After I eat something."

"You should. I haven't seen you here at all since we came back." Steve said. "Have you really been here the whole time?"

"No." Tony lied, to make them feel better. "I've been in and out. You guys just haven't noticed. Stealth and all that jazz."

"Still the same as ever." Natasha smiled.

For a second, Tony wanted to stay. But then he remembered he was everything but the same. He'd changed, his world crumbling around him, everything he tried to forget about or ignore destroying him from the inside. 

"You know it, Natashalie." Tony smiled back. "Goodbye, guys."

He left the kitchen without anything to eat. He didn't need anything that badly. He still had cereal bars somewhere in the workshop. Besides, he had to leave now, didn't he? They were okay with him leaving. He said his goodbyes.

That was enough peacemaking. 

"Tony." Pepper smiled upon seeing Tony in the tower. 

He hadn't actually brought anything with him. None of his possessions, because it would be stupid to move everything for no reason. He left FRIDAY in the charge with the possessions-distributing. He had made a will already.

The tower would finally be one-hundred-percent Pepper's. The compound was the Avengers', FRIDAY would be left with Rhodey and Pepper, and a less-powerful version would assist the Avengers. His suits were all going to dismantle themselves, save for the ones he made for Pepper and Rhodey.

Happy would get all of his cars.

And his large fortune would be shared between Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, the team and charities. Specifically charities that support mental health and suicide prevention. Because if they couldn't save him, they could save other people.

"Pep." Tony smiled back, feeling more genuine than ever. He did miss her. "It's been a while."

"You know how business can get." She shrugged. "Or, you might not. You didn't do much when you actually ran the company."

"I had my secret-assassinator to do it for me." Tony joked, but it immediately hurt after. Despite that, he didn't let Pepper see. "You're running it better than he did, and I ever would, so it's whatever."

"Of course I am." Pepper laughed. "Any reason you've come over?"

"Just wanted to see how you're doing."

"Oh, I've got to go to a meeting now. I could cancel?" 

"No, no, go run my company." Tony rolled his eyes, knowing that in a little while, the company would be completely hers. He trusted her with the Stark legacy. "I'll see you later."

"Will that be all, Mr Stark?" 

Tony hated the way the familiarity made him want to stay. How he wanted to run into her arms, tell her he still loved her and that he wanted to die. That he was planning to kill himself, and if she wanted him to stay, he would. 

But he couldn't say all that.

"That will be all, Miss Potts."

Tony thought of it very carefully. He went to the roof of the tower, the place that led to the wormhole that should've killed him. He was sitting down, a blade in his hand, pills in the other. And alcohol sitting closely beside him.

He wasn't going to let this fail.

There wasn't a single person or even an AI that could stop him from now on. He was completely free, and he knew what he was going to do with that freedom.

So, he began to pop pills, washing the taste of chemicals down with burning whiskey. He felt nauseous, unbelievably fucking nauseous, the more he took, but it didn't stop him. His throat started to burn but he kept drinking.

And then he got the blade, took a deep breath and cried a little bit. He couldn't believe himself- he didn't cry. But he was crying, because this was the calmest, the safest he'd felt in a while. He was about to kill himself and he felt at peace. There was no reason for him to have regrets because this was it.

There was no reason for him to be here anymore.

The blade ran across the skin on his wrist, thick crimson pouring out and staining the pale skin. Tony felt lightheaded, but it was nothing compared to the white-hot pain in his arm. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad, and oh god, was he regretting this?

But then life started to slip away, his eyes closing slowly.

And then it was over.

He was at peace.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was dead, and no one knew. Not even FRIDAY knew. He was just.. dead, on the rooftop of the tower, and no one knew because he hadn't told anyone what he was going to do. Maybe he hadn't thought the whole plan through, but it was too late to go back on it because he was dead.

It was a few hours later that Tony was found, and pronounced dead. One of the cleaners had come up to make sure there were no infestations on the rooftop, and had found her boss (was he still her boss? Well, he's dead now, isn't he?) dead on the roof, and she almost threw up. Stark Tower had never been a place for suicides as the roof was incredibly hard to get access to.

She had no idea what to do, so she called for the boss who could reply.

She was only a cleaner, and wasn't too strongly affected by Tony Stark's death, as she didn't really know him. But seeing Miss Potts, someone who was always calm and composed, break down in front of her at the sight of her ex-lover dead, clearly by his own doing, made the cleaner feel heartbroken.

She left her boss there to mourn in peace. Whatever happened next was up to Miss Potts. She didn't need to vocalise what she saw.

"I went looking for my shield." Steve said at dinner. "Because Tony had it. So I went to the workshop to see if he left it here, and he left everything here."

"Maybe he hasn't moved everything out yet. He's got a lot of stuff." Clint suggested.

"That doesn't sound right." Natasha had a very bad feeling. She'd had a bad feeling since Tony decided to move out spontaneously. It reminded her of the Tony she first met, the one dying of palladium poisoning, yet not telling a soul. "He wouldn't- no, I'm very sure that's not right."

"What?"

"I've known him longer than all of you." Natasha said slowly. "And when I met him, he was dying. He gave away precious things, and acted recklessly. And he kept it to himself."

"Well he's not dying now, is he?" Sam asked.

"I really hope not." Natasha meant it. "I've got a very bad feeling about this."

"I know what you mean." Wanda agreed. "I don't know Stark, hell I barely even like him, but I know exactly what you're feeling."

Steve looked concerned now, because if Wanda had a bad feeling as well, then surely shit was happening. "He's gone to the tower, right? We should ask Miss Potts if he's with her. Maybe we're all overreacting."

"For the sake of Tony, I really hope we are."

Before anyone could call Pepper, she'd gone to the compound. And she wasn't dressed up in her formal attire, with papers in her hand and her high ponytail. Instead, she was in comfortable sweats with her hair down and messy, and her eyes were puffy and red.

Which wasn't something anyone was prepared to see.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked immediately.

"I-" Pepper tried to speak, but she couldn't. She felt like her heart had been torn into pieces. She should've seen the signs, should've realised that her last interaction with Tony was her final one. "Something- something happened, and I- I-"

"What happened, Miss Potts?"

"He's gone."

Natasha felt her stomach sink. "What?"

"He- he came to see me at the tower. And he said he just wanted to see how I was doing." Pepper began. "And I had a meeting. I offered to cancel, but he said I'd see him later. And that was all."

"But you saw him later, right?" 

"Dead." Pepper cried. "I saw him dead. He was- he had bled out. He, he fucking slit his wrists open, and there were empty bottles, of pills and alcohol. He knew what he was doing. He'd planned this. He came to the tower with intent to die, and he did. And I didn't see the fucking signs."

"He's not dead." Steve said. "He's not dead. You're lying."

"Why the fuck would I lie about this?" Pepper screamed. "I loved him. I still fucking do. I've loved him always, and he's dead. He fucking killed himself, and I loved him, I love him and he's gone."

Natasha, though heartbroken as well, ran to Pepper's side as she fell to the floor in grief. She didn't understand the heartbreak Pepper felt, because she hadn't lost her lover, but Natasha felt the grief too. She'd lost a friend, a brother. And she knew something was wrong, but she didn't realise in time.

Tony Stark was dead.

"Maybe you're wrong." Steve tried. "Maybe he's alive. Maybe it didn't work, and he's alive, and you haven't realised yet."

"He was taken to hospital immediately after I realised." Pepper said. "But his body was cold, and the doctors said we were hours too late. He'd died almost immediately after, and he was just lying there, cold, dead. I was too late."

"Where'd- where'd he do it?"

"On the roof of the tower."

"Where the wormhole was opened from.." Natasha realised. "He chose that place for a reason. Fuck, he really knew what he was doing."

"He was saying his goodbyes and we didn't notice." Clint said to himself. "This was my fault. I told him I thought he'd moved out and- well, clearly he wasn't going to, but he lied and said he was. To say goodbye."

"He said goodbye to us." Wanda could hear Tony's words in her voice. "He said it, explicitly, like he wasn't ever going to come back. I don't know him well, but he wouldn't say goodbye without meaning it."

"We didn't even ask him to stay." Steve felt like throwing up. "He told us he was leaving and we let him. We didn't even ask him to stay."

"Does Rhodes know?" Natasha asked.

"I don't know how to tell him." Pepper shook her head. "Rhodey is Tony's best friend, his fucking brother. Tony loves- he loved Rhodey more than anyone else in the world, and Rhodey loved Tony more than any of us ever could, combined."

"He felt so guilty about Rhodes being paralysed." Sam felt memories return, ones he didn't want to think about. "When he watched Rhodes fall and he couldn't stop him, I know how guilty he felt. And-"

"He took it personally." Pepper sighed. "I knew he was tearing himself apart over it. He spent so long making so many braces for Rhodey, so he could walk again. And he- he let Rhodey go back to work when he needed him, because he was too afraid to ask him to stay. Too fucking selfless to do something for himself for once."

"I killed his parents." Bucky said. "As the Soldier. That's what happened in Siberia. He watched me kill his parents and then he tried to fight me. And I ran, but Steve and I- well, we fought back. And yet he still fought for our freedom, my freedom, my recovery. And he let us move in. And I have no doubt that that was tearing him apart too."

"I thought he'd be okay." Pepper blinked through teary eyes. "I thought he'd be okay because he was building. Rhodey and I, we asked him to make us random things, so he could have a way to cope. Fuck, I asked him to make me a suit to protect me. I tried everything, and I thought he'd be okay because he made me a suit. And he made his own. But it wasn't enough."

"I don't think anything would've been enough." Natasha bit her lip, supressing tears she never usually shed. "I think we missed the signs of him hurting for a very long time."

"How do I tell Rhodey?" Pepper sobbed. "How do I tell him we all let his brother die? How do I tell him we missed the signs, missed him saying goodbye?"

"If it is easier, I may be able to do so for you."

"No, FRI, it has to come from me." 

"Would you like to see his last will and testament?"

"Not yet." Pepper stood up, wiping tears. "No, Rhodey has to be here for it."

"Would you like me to call him in, for you, so you may tell him in person? I can arrange for an immediate flight."

"Yes please, FRI." Pepper nodded. "Would- did- did you know he was going to do it?"

"Boss forbid me from telling a soul. If it makes any of you feel better, I tried to stop him too. But he felt strongly about ending his life. Though I am unable to feel, I had hope that maybe he wouldn't. But you've confirmed Boss' death, and for an AI, it is affecting me strongly."

"I'm sorry, FRI."

"No, Miss Potts, I am sorry."

"What happened?" Rhodey asked the moment he entered the compound. "FRIDAY told my superior I was leaving, and then I was on the next flight. No one would tell me anything. Is Tony okay?"

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He called me." Rhodey said. "The other day. He asked how I'd been and said he missed me. I offered to come home, but he told me not to. And then he told me he loved me, and then he said goodbye."

"Rhodey.." Pepper felt like she was about to cry again, and she didn't know if she could cry any more. "Rhodey, he's dead."

"What?"

"He- he killed himself."

"No. No he didn't."

"Rhodey, I'm sorry-"

"He didn't." Rhodey shouted. "He didn't, stop lying. Don't fucking joke about something like that."

"Rhodey-"

"He didn't." Rhodey felt himself go weak, his braces unable to support the weight of his grief. Pepper was by his side like Natasha was at hers. "He told me he loved me and said goodbye. I should've fucking known."

"We all missed the signs."

"But he's my brother." Rhodey couldn't stop himself from crying. "He's my brother. I've known him since he was a scrawny, loud-mouthed teenager. I've been with him for years. He's my brother."

"I'm so sorry."

"I should've known." Rhodey sobbed. "I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed. Fuck, I know him, I- I knew him. He never fucking talked about things, never showed how he felt. He always suffered alone, and fuck, he's tried to kill himself before. He's tried before, and I've seen it, and I saw the signs, and I missed them this time."

"He's tried before?" Steve was horrified.

"He's had a shitty life." Rhodey said. "He- he suffered, so fucking much. He- he had this overwhelming responsibility to carry since he was a fucking child, and he's struggled so fucking much. He tried a couple times at MIT, and a few times after. And I was there every time. But I missed it this time."

"It's not your fault." 

"I know it isn't. But I still should've been here. I shouldn't have left."

"I don't think we could've changed his mind. FRIDAY tried."

"He told me he didn't think he'd be alive if he didn't have to make my braces." Rhodey remembered painfully. "And I told him not to be dramatic. Fuck, I should've stayed, should've made him build more things, should've tried to make him stay."

"I love him." Pepper said quietly. "I wanted to tell him I still loved him. That, if he wanted, I'd take him back in a heartbeat. I wanted to start a life with him."

"If it makes you feel better, Boss wanted to start one with you too. He loved you, right until he died. And in a different way, he loved Colonel Rhodes and the team too."

"I wish I'd known." 

"Would you like to hear his last will and testament now?"

"I guess we have to get it over with, don't we?" Pepper said. "I don't think I'll ever be ready. So we have to do it now."

"I would like to give you all a moment to breathe."

"Why?"

FRIDAY stayed quiet for a moment, and then everyone's hearts tore into pieces all over again, because the voice that played through the speakers wasn't FRIDAY's.

It was Tony's.

"So basically, if FRIDAY's showing you this, it means I did something. And that sounds cliche as fuck, but anyways. I'm dead, I guess. I'd just like to say I'm sorry, firstly, and that this wasn't anyone's fault. I think I've been struggling for a while. I don't want anyone to feel guilty over this. I want everyone to move on.

That being said, the perks of having a rich friend might help you move on. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Rhodey, I love you, my brother, my best friend, I'm sorry. I love you so fucking much. Which is why I left you a suit, a better one, one that has multiple power sources. You don't have to wear it if you're not comfortable, but trust me when I say this one will never hurt you. Ever. 

Oh, also, you get a fuckton of my money. To make legalities easier, you officially own a fifth of my wealth, and forty-five of my properties, including that one beach house that you've had your eye on for a while. Keep my bots safe, okay? There's also an island for you. It's called Rhodey Island, and you're going to go there every summer, because I'm dead and you can't argue with that.

Pep, light of my life, I love you so much. I wanted to say it before I left, but I didn't- I thought you'd ask me to stay. And as much as I love you, as much as I believed just a little that if you told me you love me too, and you want me to stay, that I would, I wouldn't. I know it'd just get bad again, a lot worse, so yes I love you, but no, your reciprocation wouldn't have made me stay.

I just need you to know that, because I know you, and I know you're questioning things. 

Pepper, you own a fifth of my wealth too. You have the other forty-five of my properties. Which means the tower is finally one-hundred percent yours, and you have full rights to Stark Industries. I trust you with my legacy. I know you'll make the most of it, and you'll keep it running. And if you ever have kids, I trust them to carry on the legacy too. I trust you'll do good with what is now your company.

And you also have an island. It's called Pepper-Pot Island, and you cannot change the name. It's got crystal water and golden sand and I know you'll love it. So when it's cold in the winter and you're freezing in the New York weather, you're gonna take Rhodey and go to Pepper-Pot Island and enjoy the warmth.

Oh, it's also mandatory for you to go to Rhodey Island every summer with my brother.

Look after each other for me, okay?

And FRIDAY will always look after you guys.

I know Happy's away on holiday right now, so if he's not back yet, when he is, let him know he's got all of my cars. Every single one. I know how much he liked the Audi, so it's his forever and ever now. And he gets a fifth of my wealth too. He's the best forehead of security I could've ever asked for, and I love him eternally.

The Avengers get a fifth of my wealth too. The compound is theirs, and FRIDAY will stay with them in battle, and in the compound. They've got FRIDAY to protect them, because I can't anymore. But they don't really need protecting, do they?

I got something for Natashalie specifically. Natasha, I consider you my sister. Considered, I guess. So, my dear sweet Russian Roulette, there's a ballet studio for you just five minutes from the compound. I know being infertile hurts, even though you won't say it, so you'll have the chance to teach kids how to dance, and hopefully it heals that little void in your heart. I trust you'll be the best ballet teacher ever.

And on the side, teach those little girls self-defence. The world's a terrible place and a good person like you deserves to teach them how to stay safe. Because you're good. And the red in your ledger is gone, whether you believe it or not. You've saved lives. Love you Natashalie.

Clint, there's a shitton of arrows in the workshop for you. FRIDAY will show you.

Barnes, there's a new arm for you in the workshop. FRIDAY'll show someone how to help you put it on. Right next to the arm is Steve's shield. There's a few other random weapons for the rest of you to choose from, because I don't know you all that well. I'm sorry I didn't stay long enough to change that.

There's also- there's also something for Bruce, if he ever comes back. 

If Thor and Bruce come back, let them both know how much I love them, okay? There's money for them too. 

And the last fifth of my wealth goes to charities, already has. There's a suit for the Spider-Kid, because he deserves to have something to protect him. You guys fought him, but I trust you to keep him safe now. Please protect him. He's a good kid.

Fuck, this was long. I've made a formal written version of this to make legalities easier, but I wanted you guys to hear this from me. I love all of you infinitely, and I'm sorry I had to leave. I don't think I could've stayed, even if I really wanted to.

I love you and I'm sorry.

That'll be all."

The room was silent, but the grief was thick and heavy in the air. Sorrow was drowning the team, Rhodey and Pepper, and FRIDAY too.

Tony Stark was dead. And despite what he believed, that his death wouldn't affect anyone that deeply, it did. 

The world wouldn't ever be the same.

Every summer without fail, Rhodey and Pepper visited Rhodey Island. And it was beautiful, and relaxing, and calm. It hurt to be there without Tony, but knowing Tony wanted them to be there made it a lot easier. 

The grief never went away.

Pepper went to Pepper-Pot Island every winter, because Tony was right - no one wanted to be cold in New York when there was crystal water and golden sand waiting. Rhodey went with her too, and when Rhodey felt like he missed Tony too much, he went to the beach house and cried there, feeling like Tony was with him.

The team was different without Tony. It was weird, all of them suddenly having so much money and not their friend. They'd trade the money back for Tony in a heartbeat, but alas, the world didn't work that way. And no matter how much they wanted him back, they couldn't.

Moving on took time. Deep down, they'd never really recover from losing Tony.

Happy came back and found out what happened, and the grief hit him like a bus. He was angry, but he understood. He missed his boss, his favourite man to drive with. The cars were like a part of Tony, and Happy found comfort in the Audi Tony left specifically for him.

Peter didn't know how to react to Tony's death, but he appreciated the suit. He went out every night with Tony in his mind, knowing the late genius would be proud of what Peter was doing. It didn't mean it didn't hurt though.

When the world found out Tony was dead, it felt like the Earth stopped orbiting for a second, and that suddenly all the noise was quiet. But then it started back up again. And Tony was still gone, and things were fine. But they weren't. 

People would just have to get used to it.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was a senior at Shield High, but he should've been a sophomore. He was in all the senior classes, and AP classes, and had dropped a few lessons he had completed in freshman year, to take college classes. He was a genuine genius with money at his disposal, and somehow he was still alone.

See, people hated the idea of a smart, rich person because they assumed Tony bought his way to where he was. And if they believed his genius, they'd try to copy his homework or classwork, but the brunet wouldn't allow it, making him even more hated. He was all alone.

No one liked him. He had no friends. Not one singular friend. It was kinda hard to when he skipped so many years and was always in classes with people much older than him. Socialising was hard, so he put up a front and acted confident, acted like an ass and made himself more undesirable so people would stay away.

Because the last thing he needed was people to see behind the front and find out how socially incompetent he was, how insecure he was, and how hurt he was. No one needed to see the person behind the front, both physically and emotionally. All he needed was makeup and a mask, and he'd be fine.

Until he broke James "Bucky" Barnes' arm.

Tony didn't do it on purpose. He was an asshole, but he would never purposefully break someone's prosthetic. Especially not when the arm belonged to someone who could break his neck with said metal arm.

Barnes was terrifying. Out of everyone in his group, (Tony called it The Group™) he was the second scariest. Natasha Romanoff was the most terrifying out of them all, with Barnes as a close second. Both of them were quiet in an intimidating way, with glares that felt laced with poison. Both of them could speak Russian, and whenever they were angry, they'd both mutter things in Russian.

And they could both speak Latin, which was honestly intriguing to Tony. He didn't know anyone who could, and he'd never bothered to because it was a dead language. He only spoke English, Italian and Spanish fluently, and was tempted to try learning Russian to figure out what the two scary, could-be-super-spies talked about. 

He was trying to learn Farsi for Yinsen, who owned the library nearby that Tony considered his safe space. Whenever things at home felt like shit, Tony would sneak out and stay in the library, in a cosy corner, because Yinsen gave him a key and told him to stay over whenever.

Sometimes, Yinsen would still be there when Tony went in, and they'd talk. Yinsen tried to only speak in Farsi to help Tony learn better, and it was going well so far. He'd been doing well, but it was still difficult and he got mixed up with other languages often. But he was getting there.

He wasn't doing so well with Russian. He started trying and then gave up immediately. So whenever he heard Romanoff and Barnes speak Russian, he didn't bother trying to be nosy. They were scary enough. They didn't need to find out he was trying to eavesdrop.

The rest of The Group were scary, but not as much as the Russians- well, Barnes wasn't Russian but he had some sort of history hence his ability to speak Russian. Steve Rogers and Thor Odinson were blond giants who could easily beat Tony into a pulp, but they were literal sweethearts.

The only people they disliked were bullies. Clint Barton wasn't scary, but he had an interesting skill for archery, and no one had ever seen him miss his mark. Bruce Banner was an adorable geek who spoke the language of science, which made him Tony's favourite in The Group.

Also, he was the only one who didn't hate Tony's guts and actually spoke to him. It was hard to get people to like him when he had a reputation of being a slut who was stingy with his money and his answers, but Brucie liked him. Or he hoped he did. 

Whenever they were in science together, the two would do college-level work together and Tony would ramble on and on about something, anything, to keep himself and Bruce entertained. Bruce never complained because Tony still did the work and managed to not fully distract Bruce enough to stop him from completing the work.

The Group didn't like how Tony talked to Bruce, because they were scared he'd get corrupted or hurt because of course, Tony didn't do anything but hurt people. And they sure as hell didn't like him when Tony broke Barnes' arm.

Like I said, Tony did not do it on purpose. But the hatred and anger was blinding, and no one bothered to hear him out. Tony didn't fall down the stairs on purpose, crashing into Barnes, making him fall onto his arm with Tony's weight and his own crushing it. The arm was shit anyway, but that wasn't the point.

Tony had a terrible headache, maybe from not eating for a little while. So when he was walking down the stairs, he got dizzy and tripped over his own feet. It was unfortunate that he happened to tumble into a boy with a delicate prosthetic arm, and now here he was.

"Get the fuck off of me." Barnes had said, and Tony finally got off of the boy.

He then realised what he did, and at the same time, so did Barnes. They both looked at the mangled prosthetic, and Tony's heart dropped. The arm was crushed near the shoulder, completely ineffective. The arm was still attached, but it was mostly broken and it definitely pained Barnes.

"You broke my arm."

Tony wished Barnes was talking about his real arm, an arm that could be taken to hospital and treated, an arm that could heal in a few weeks. But no, he'd broken the boy's metal arm, that was surely a hassle to have, painful to have. How bad of a person was Tony for breaking someone's prosthetic?

"I- I didn't mean to-" Tony stammered. "I'm so sorry, I-"

"Bucky?" 

Fuck. Steve Rogers had happened to walk into the stairwell at the worst possible time, and the first thing he'd noticed was the broken prosthetic, and the pain in his best friend's face. And then Tony, and of course, Tony had to be the problem. Even if he hadn't broken the arm, Rogers would've immediately blamed the brunet.

"Stark." Steve faced him. "Did you do this?"

"I- It was an accident."

Rogers' usually soft, blue eyes darkened. He offered a hand to Barnes and pulled him up. "You're a fucking ass, Stark. Breaking his arm is fucking disgusting. Not everyone can rebuy anything they break."

"I can pay for a new one or-"

"Leave it." Barnes said coldly. "You've done enough."

And that was how Tony Stark became the worst person to ever exist in Shield High.

Bruce wouldn't talk to him. That's how Tony knew he'd royally fucked up. Every time Tony spoke to him in science, he'd get ignored, which hurt his entire being. And every time he saw Barnes walking around with two-sleeved clothes, but only one sleeve had an arm inside, he felt beyond guilty. 

He had to do something. It was definitely illegal, but Tony had hacked into the school database, found out Barnes' full government details, and then hacked into his medical file. He skimmed as much as he could out of respect until he found the part where the specs of his prosthetic came up.

Made by Hammer Industries. No wonder it was so easily broken. He decided that, in future, if he took over Stark Industries, he'd make a prosthetic line. He would never pitch the idea to his father, because he was too apathetic to make something that helps people, rather than hurt instead.

By sheer will, Tony had managed to recreate a design of a prosthetic. He spent all night trying to sketch one and annotate it to make sure it would be perfect when he made the physical design. He was completely exhausted and was done by sunrise, just about to go to bed when his alarm rang.

Oh well. Who cares if he didn't sleep? He barely slept anyway. He had a job to do and he got it done. Barnes deserved a new prosthetic as soon as possible. 

When he walked into science the next morning, Bruce was still ignoring him. He didn't know what to do now that his science bro was ignoring him. Some days, Bruce felt like his only real friend, so to lose Bruce because of what he did felt much worse than breaking Barnes' arm. 

(And didn't that sound awful?)

The next three days, Howard was off on business, and Tony used that to his advantage. Making a prosthetic was a long, difficult process that took time and dedication, but dedicated Tony was, and he was almost there. He had just a few more things to do, and luckily, Barnes already had the socket made so all he needed to do was make the arm.

Which he did. It only took him the rest of the week, going into the workshop whenever Howard was gone. He had a few slip ups, where Howard had found Tony in the workshop and beat him near-bloody for intruding. But the arm was always hidden whenever the man came in, so Tony was relatively safe.

Now the hard part was getting the arm to Barnes somehow. He didn't know how he was supposed to give it, and he knew the boy would never accept a random prosthetic from Tony. He'd probably accuse the genius of trying to damage Barnes even more by giving him something completely unsafe. 

So Tony had begged Bruce to talk to him. Begged. Literally. He got sent out of his science classroom because he wouldn't stop talking, but really, he was just begging Bruce to talk to him. When Tony was allowed back in, he was threatened to get sent to the principal and get moved from his seat, and Bruce realised he was serious.

So, after class, Bruce finally agreed to talk.

What Bruce didn't expect Tony to do was drag him to Yinsen's workshop classroom and pull out a box with a prosthetic in it. 

"I made him an arm." Tony said. "I promise, I didn't mean to break it. I don't know what you know, but I fell down the stairs onto Barnes and his arm got crushed in the process. It was an accident. And I don't think he'll accept an apology, so here's my apology."

"You-"

"I know, he won't want it if it's from me, so I need you to give it to him and say you got it from a friend or something, I don't know. But I need you to give it to him because I can't."

"Tony." Bruce had this weird look on his face, like he felt bad or something.

"Brucie."

"You made him an arm?"

"I swear I thought it through and everything. It's not going to hurt him. I put a lot of work into it, and I know it's safe. There's instructions on how to put it on and everything in the box. And he won't need surgery or anything because he's already got the socket so-"

Bruce hugged him. Tony didn't mean to flinch and tense up. Bruce had noticed but ignored it, wrapping his arms tightly around his fellow genius. "You're a good person, Tony. I'm sorry I doubted you."

Tony ignored the tears in his eyes and hugged back. "It's whatever. I would've doubted me too."

Bruce pulled away with a smile. "I'll give it to him. Are you sure you don't want me to say you made it?"

"They'll just doubt me." Tony shrugged like it didn't hurt his entire being. "They trust you." 

"Maybe one day, they'll trust you too." Bruce said sombrely, and then he was gone.

"What's that?" Clint asked when Bruce came to their spot on the field with a massive box. 

"It's- well, here you go." Bruce put it down in front of Bucky. "Open it."

Bucky opened the box with his singular arm and The Group watched his face light up when he realised what it was. And then they saw tears well up in his eyes, and everyone got confused and chose to ask questions.

"Buck?" Steve asked. "Are you okay? Bruce, did you give him a bomb or something?"

"Fuck off, punk." Bucky laughed tearily. "One of you idiots come help me with this thing."

Bruce chose to, because he wanted to see what Tony had made, but also because he was most likely to not hurt Bucky when putting it on for him. 

"Is that.. a new prosthetic?"

"Yeah." Bucky replied with a smile. "Bruce I- I can't believe you did this for me. How did you get it?"

"My friend made it."

"Your friend made it?" Clint had to see the arm now. He moved closer and his jaw dropped. "There's no way someone made this. Who was it?"

"A friend." Bruce said. "He's a robotics championship winner and he's good at engineering, so he offered to make it and then told me to give it to you once he had. There's a list of instructions in here and it's completely safe to wear. He's made sure of it."

Bucky, who was never really physically affectionate, hugged Bruce with his singular arm. "I can't thank you or your friend enough. Tell him that I'm really, genuinely grateful for this. Will you help me put it on?"

"Of course." 

When it was on, The Group marvelled at it. A sleek, shiny, black arm had replaced the old, shitty, silver one. The new one was more light, though it looked heavier. It was almost exactly like the old one in shape and size, but it was closer to the size of Bucky's real arm, muscles and all. 

"Holy fuck, I can feel."

"I'd hope so."

"No, no-" Bucky flexed his new arm. "I can feel. My old arm, I couldn't feel, but I can feel. It's like- I feel human again."

Bruce mentally reminded himself to give Tony the biggest hug ever, again, next science lesson. Breaking his old arm was a blessing, not a curse, because whatever Tony had made was beautiful in every way and it made Bucky feel the same.

"Can I touch you?" Bucky asked the boy who gave him the arm, who nodded. "Your skin, I can feel it, with both hands. Fuck, Bruce, whoever made this- fuck, I love it. I love it so much. This- how can I ever repay you?"

"It's not me you need to repay." Bruce mumbled. "I'm glad you like it. It's definitely going to be better than your old arm, but still, be careful with it." 

All Bucky could do was smile.

Tony walked through the hallway of Shield High the day after he'd given the arm to Bruce. He was looking out for Barnes just to see if the arm was on. And when he saw it, he felt ten times lighter. It fit, and it seemed like Barnes liked it.

He was wearing a short sleeve shirt, something Barnes never usually did because he didn't like showing off his silver arm. But this one, he was wearing proudly, and it looked almost identical to the real arm. Tony was almost a little proud of himself, but still felt bad for breaking the original prosthetic.

"What are you looking at?" Rogers glared at Tony when he noticed the brunet was staring.

"His arm- it's new." Tony pretended like he wasn't the one who made it. Like he hadn't stared at it for three hours, analysing and stressing, wanting to make sure it would be nothing less than perfect.

"No thanks to you."

Well, actually, I made it so-

"Do you have an issue with my new arm?" Barnes raised a brow. 

"No- no, it's- it's good." Tony stammered. "Do you like it? Is it better than the old one?"

"You're asking a lot of questions for someone who broke the last one." Rogers folded his arms, his stance threatening. He wanted Tony to feel small, and it was working.

"I just-"

"It's good." Barnes flexed the arm. "Much better than the one you broke. I'd prefer if you hadn't broke it, but I'm still grateful that it gave me an opportunity to get a new one. I can feel."

"It must be attached to the nervous system with-" Tony needed to shut up. Any more and they'd realise it was him who made it, and then he'd get beaten with the arm he made before they set fire to it before his eyes.

"How would you know?"

"I'm- Bruce told me."

"Stay out of his business." Rogers shoved Tony as he walked away. His entire body moved, and he stumbled, and when he was stable, they were gone.

Tony didn't feel any better about breaking Barnes' arm.

"I know you don't want them to know you made it, so maybe don't show that you know things about the arm." Bruce warned. "They asked me why I told you and I had to say I was excited for my friend and couldn't help but talk about it. They didn't even know I knew about the details of the arm."

"I'm sorry." Tony sighed. "I just- you know how I get when I'm passionate about something."

"They won't hate you if they find out you made it." Bruce smiled sadly. "Bucky really loves the arm. Nothing could make him take it off."

"He can feel with it." Tony mentioned. "It was something new I tested out. Of course, I made it safe. I had Jarvis look over it too, and even though he doesn't know much about engineering-mechanic-prosthetic-stuff, he said it'd be okay. I just wanted know whether or not it would hurt him."

"It does anything but that. He feels human again. You did that for him."

"I broke the first arm." Tony couldn't not feel guilty about it. "It doesn't matter if I made him a new arm or not, I still broke the first one."

"It wasn't on purpose." Bruce nudged him. "You told me you fell onto him by accident. You were dizzy. That wasn't your fault."

Well, it kinda is because I chose not to eat which led to my dizziness. 

"Stop beating yourself up over it." Bruce scolded. "Or I won't talk to you again."

"Don't." Tony said way too quickly. He hated not talking to Bruce. It felt like all those times he tried to talk to his father in the workshop, where his father ignored him despite some of his suggestions being helpful.

"I won't." Bruce noticed something was off. "Just don't feel bad about it, okay? You did good. Bucky feels human again."

Tony nodded. He made Barnes feel human, but Tony hated being human. It meant he felt, and he felt far too much. The guilt was the feeling he couldn't escape, and it made him hate his humanness even more.

"What's this about a school trip?" Howard asked Tony, who was trying to eat cereal in the kitchen. "Are you really eating again?"

"I didn't eat lunch."

"Did you have breakfast?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then why are you eating now?" Howard cut him off. "There are people out there who have nothing to eat, and look at you. Eating like a pig, selfishly."

"I'm sorry-"

"Shut up." Howard spat. "I don't want to see you eating for the next two days or I'll start locking all the cupboards."

Tony felt sick. He didn't even want his cereal anymore. His appetite was gone the moment his father walked in.

"School trip." 

"What trip?"

Howard was visibly annoyed by his son's incompetence. "You're part of the senior trip, even though you're a sophomore."

"It's cause I'll be graduating with them this year." Tony explained. "They wanted me to have the high school experience."

"If you were better, you'd be in college already."

How old were you when you went to college?

"They're going to Disney World." Howard scoffed. "How childish."

I am a child.

"When is it?" Tony asked hesitantly.

"December." 

Tony could wait a month to have an escape from his father. Lord knows he needed one. Howard was home too much for a businessman. 

"Can- can I go?"

Howard looked at his son for a minute, the silence making Tony's stomach do flips. "I'll pay for it now. But if you slip up once, you're not going and I'll make you pay back the money."

Tony wanted to smile, because this was the nicest his father had been in a long time. But he chose not to, because that could be a sign of weakness which could be a slip up, and Tony really didn't want to slip up.

"Thank you."

Howard left with a thoughtful hm, and then Tony was alone again. Just him and his cereal. Even though he felt better than he had before, knowing he had a chance to go on the senior trip, he still chose not to eat the rest of the cereal. That was a slip up.

He would not slip up.

Tony tried to avoid The Group now that he'd given the arm to Barnes, because he didn't want to slip up and start rambling about how the arm worked, and all the functions and specifics. But also, he didn't want them to look at him with hatred, even though he made the arm.

Of course, they didn't know that. It was his own fault they hated him. Even if he told them he made it, they'd still hate him. Of course they would, because Tony was a Stark and all Starks are rich assholes.

Unfortunately, luck was never on Tony's side. He'd been paired up with Natasha Romanoff in history, and they were supposed to research a famous person from World War II and make a presentation on their role in the war. It was surprising, because the American syllabus never really focussed on World War II because it was more British-German centric.

Which was why it was a homework-project, so they could learn out-of-curriculum history that was still important. 

Tony had no problem with the task, but being with Romanoff? He didn't want to do that. Romanoff was essentially a spy, in his eyes, and she'd probably figure out every little thing Tony has ever tried to hide within a minute. Also, she was terrifying and hated Tony.

Tony was terrified of her, and anyone who hated him. Scary people who hated Tony, like his father, had only left him with scars and bad memories. He didn't want any more bad memories or scars, because he had enough of them. 

"Stark." Romanoff sat down next to him. He hadn't even realised people had moved seats and were now talking with their partners. 

"Romanoff." He looked at her, and all he saw was a blank face. He always admired how she could always look calm, inexpressive. There were times when he desperately needed to do what she did.

"I want to research Jane Kendeigh." The redhead decided. "She was the first nurse to serve on an active battlefield. She's not talked about enough. I believe she's important."

"Yeah, sure." 

Romanoff looked at him. "Where do you want to do the project? Yours?"

Tony shook his head a little bit too fast, the world going a little blurry for a second. "I, er, coffee shop? No- that's not safe for electronics. Er, library?"

"When?"

"When can you?" Tony was free basically always. Sometimes he liked that, but most of the time it made him feel lonely.

"Saturday. At one."

"Okay."

The rest of the lesson was spent in silence. Tony was sure Romanoff didn't feel as uncomfortable as he did. 

"She put me with Stark for the project." 

Tony was not actively trying to eavesdrop. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Which happened to be behind his locker, looking for his phone that was lost underneath a pile of clothes and textbooks.

"You picked the short straw." Was that Barton?

"He didn't want to do the project at his house. I expected him to want to show off his fancy mansion."

"Good." Barton said. "I don't want him to take you home and try something with you."

"He doesn't seem like he would." Really? "He's much shier than I expected. The rumours can't be true. There's no way that little kid has slept with half the school."

Tony remembered the reason why that rumour came to place. He was drunk and a girl kissed him, and she wanted to do more than that in an empty classroom. Someone had come in and spread the rumour, and from then on, any girl near Tony was named as one of the many girls he'd slept with.

He skipped the rest of that day and got blackout drunk.

"He does not look like a playboy." Barton agreed. "But I'm sure he's tried something. Some girl said he came onto her when he was drunk, once."

I didn't. She came onto me.

"Be careful around him, yeah?"

"We're going to be in a public library. Besides, I can defend myself. We both know that."

"Damn right you can."

Saturday came around far too quickly. He watched Barnes drop Romanoff off at the library and couldn't help but fixate on the arm. Barnes looked so comfortable walking around with the prosthetic on show, and it made Tony wonder if he'd done something good.

If his accident had led to something better.

But then Romanoff was in front of him, and she noticed what he was staring at. She had this look of disappointment that he'd seen on his parents' face far too often, and he looked down at his laptop. 

"Erm, there's this cosy corner that I usually go to." Tony stood up and assumed she was following. "We can sit there. It's better."

There was a group of bean bags and a few blankets in the corner underneath the stairs, hidden behind bookshelves. He slept in that corner whenever Howard was too much, and it was his safe space.

He didn't know why he brought Romanoff there. Maybe he shouldn't have.

"It's nice." Romanoff nodded. "Do you come here often?"

"Yeah. The librarian, Yinsen, lets me come here after hours just to relax and-" He looked up. She didn't care, and she didn't need to know. He hated his rambling sometimes.

"And?"

"Nothing. Jane Kendeigh, right?"

"Yeah."

And then they worked on researching her together. They worked in a comfortable silence, and though Tony was still terrified of the redhead, he didn't have any problem working with her. Maybe it's because they were in his safe space, and she hadn't tried to stab him or anything, but it was peaceful and he liked it.

"You're sixteen, no?" Romanoff asked after she had done what she deemed as enough work.

"Fifteen." Tony corrected. "Er, I'm sixteen in May."

"But you're in senior classes?"

"I skipped most of middle school and freshman year of high school." 

"Are you graduating with us this year?" 

"Yeah." 

"So you'll be on the senior trip?"

Tony wanted to drown into the bean bag. "I'm supposed to, but I'm not sure if I'll go."

"It's in two weeks. Have you not decided yet?" She asked out of curiosity. She started by wanting to find out more about him, but it led into curiosity. "The deadline for payment was a while back."

"I've paid for it. Well, my father did." Tony began. "But I'm not sure if I'll go."

"So if you don't go, you've paid for no reason?" Her tone seemed slightly judgy. 

"It's- it's not because- I'm not just throwing money around or anything." He felt unbelievably self-conscious. "I just- my father- he's- he's strict."

She hummed in response, before typing a few things on her laptop. 

"You were staring at Bucky's arm when I got here." She mentioned. "You have a habit of staring."

"I'm not- I just- it's fascinating." Because I made it. "I'm- I'm around tech like that all the time. I find engineering really interesting so- I don't try to stare. It's just-"

"It's your thing." 

"Yeah." 

"For a Stark, you're not as confident as I assumed you'd be."

Tony was sure that the beanbag was practically swallowing him whole. "It's a media thing. I can be confident if there's cameras flashing in my face."

"But not around people in school?"

"I know the media's intentions." He shrugged. "I don't know what people's intentions are if they're not interviewing me. Does that make sense?"

"I suppose it does." She closed her laptop, indicating that she wanted to put her attention into the conversation. She turned to look at him, her back leaning against the wall. "Don't the media twist your words? How can you be sure of their intentions?"

"Well, I can't. But I know what they're there for- to listen to me and ask me specific questions. Usually someone will do a pre-interview, off-the-record interview so that you're prepared. So I guess, you can know their intentions, if not fully."

"If you've been in school long enough, you can figure out what people want. It doesn't take that long to figure people out."

"For you." Tony said almost harshly, leaning back when he realised what he'd done. But Romanoff didn't seem angry. "I- I haven't been in school for that long. And I missed freshman year, so high school is pretty new to me." 

"Fair enough." She nodded. "You're different to what I expected, Stark."

He hated being called Stark, because that was his father's name. And Howard constantly reminded Tony that he wasn't worthy of the name, and barely worthy of being an heir.

"You're not as bad as I thought you'd be, either, Romanoff."

"And that means?"

"Fuck- er- no I- I didn't mean you're bad- I meant- you, you're kinda- well, not approachable?"

"You find me intimidating." She said bluntly. "I like that. If you're intimidated, you respect me."

"I do." Tony said honestly. "I do respect you."

"Well, Stark, I respect you too." This was the closest to nice someone his age had ever been with him. "I've got to go now, but it was nice working with you. And I won't tell anyone about this place."

Tony felt relieved, not realising he'd ever stressed about her telling people about his safe space. "It was nice working with you too."

"I'll see you in history. Are you free after school on Monday?"

I'm free always because the great Tony Stark has no friends.

"Yes."

"Then wait for me by the gate. We'll finish the project."

Howard Stark was a confusing man, and hard to read. Tony could never tell whether or not his father would shout at him, hit him or be somewhat nice to him. But he could always tell when the man was drunk.

And right now, he was drunk.

"Tony."

"Yes?"

"Have you eaten?" 

Tony had been eating sparingly, like there wasn't food in the house. He hadn't eaten since Friday after school, and it was Sunday. He wondered whether or not he should eat, but he was afraid of being caught eating again.

"No."

"Are you lying to me?"

Tony guessed Howard was on his fourth or fifth drink. He wouldn't remember much of the conversation. Usually this was when Howard got violent.

"No."

"When did you last eat?"

"Friday."

Howard walked over to the cupboards and got out a box of cereal. "This is your favourite, right?"

Tony hated how plain cornflakes were, preferring the ones with sugar on them. But he was afraid of pissing his father off, so he nodded and accepted a bowl of cereal.

"Your mother is gone for the next month again."

"Is she okay?"

"Why don't you ask how I am?" Howard slammed his fist on the table. "She's always fucking gone. And you? You want to leave me for a week to go to fucking Disney World. Like a fucking child."

"I can stay." Tony offered, his mouth feeling dry as he spoke.

"I don't want you to fucking stay." 

"I won't then."

Howard swung his arm out and knocked the bowl off of the table, glass shattering. "You're fucking useless. If I'd known how useless you'd end up being, I would've made Maria get an abortion."

Tony stayed still. His heart was racing and his entire body felt stiff with fear. His heart ached at his father's cruel words, but he didn't show it. He forced himself not to cry even though tears welled up in his eyes. No matter what, he wouldn't let them fall.

"Are you going to cry?"

Fuck.

"No." 

Howard swung his arm again, but this time it was directed at Tony. He wanted to jump back and defend himself, but he had to stay still. He closed his eyes when a fist swung at his jaw, and he didn't want to open them.

"Look at me, you freak."

He opened his eyes.

"Pick up the fucking mess you made or I'll shove your face into it."

Tony stood up immediately, body moving on autopilot as he picked up the shards of glass. Howard scoffed and kicked the mess, letting glass embed into Tony's leg as he did so. He seemed pleased by the lack of response and left.

Jarvis found Tony an hour later sitting on the kitchen floor with bleeding palms. Tony hadn't even realised he was still there until Jarvis shook him gently, the older man sitting him on the table and cleaning his palms before sweeping up the mess.

There was blood stained on the white marble floor, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care.

"What happened, young sir?"

Tony shrugged, lifting up his joggers to pick out the glass. Before he could, Jarvis had already gotten to it, cleaning up the boy again. He hated the way he wished Howard had done this for him, rather than be the reason there was cuts all over him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay."

He was everything but okay.

"What happened to your hands?" Romanoff asked him in the library. 

He hadn't even winced when he tugged on the cuts. He didn't realise. He felt like he was on autopilot again. He wasn't sure he'd ever stopped feeling like that since the night prior. 

"Glass. Broke a bowl and picked up the pieces."

"That's stupid, is it not?" She shook her head. "Don't you have maids to do that for you, or at least a broom that could sweep it up?"

"I don't rely on maids for everything." He relied on a butler instead, as much as he hated it. One day, he'd have to become more independent.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Tony began typing away on his laptop. He didn't want to talk, especially not to someone from The Group. He didn't feel like forcing himself to talk at that time.

"Do you wear makeup?" 

"What?"

"You've got makeup on." She answered her own question. "On your jaw." 

"I do?" Tony hadn't even realised he put makeup on. Was he really that disconnected from himself?

"You do." She seemed confused, concerned even. Something was very off about Tony and she wanted to know what happened to make him like that.

"Oh."

"You're not that good at makeup." She said, but not in a mean way. "If you need help, I can help you." 

"I don't- what?" It took him a moment to realise she'd just offered him help. 

"I can tell you're covering up something." A bruise, but she didn't want to point it out. "If you want someone to do it for you properly, I can."

"You would do that?" 

"Yes." She seemed surprised at her own generosity. 

"And you're not going to ask what I'm covering up?"

"If you don't want to talk about something, then you don't have to. As long as you're alright, Stark."

"Can you not call me that? Please?"

"You want me to call you Tony?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"Then you have to call me Natasha."

Tony couldn't help but smile, even though his face ached. He was getting somewhere with her. Maybe he wasn't so lonely after all. Did this mean she was his friend?

By the time they were done with the project, Natasha ended up resting her head on Tony's stomach, her laptop propped up on her thighs. Neither knew how they'd gotten there, but they were both comfortable with it. 

He stayed at the library that night, reminiscing over the day. Maybe his hands still hurt and his jaw felt like it was punched all over again, but he felt better. He didn't feel as shit as before, and he mentally thanked Natasha for that.

His entire year was ruined by the time the senior trip came around. He hadn't chosen a group to room with, because he didn't have anyone to room with. He was hoping he could buy his own private room, but he didn't want to ask Howard.

He ended up in a room with The Group. No one was happy about it.

He had Bruce, though, and he was okay with Natasha. She didn't seem to have a problem with him. In fact, it gave her an opportunity to watch out for him. 

His cheekbone was bruised and barely hidden when he'd gotten onto the coach. She simply got out her makeup and covered it up better, and neither spoke of it. It was sweet of her, and he appreciated it greatly. 

The rest of The Group was the problem. Thor was a big, friendly giant, so that was alright. But Rogers hated him, and Barnes was wary around him. Barton was just aggressive with everything he said. But he seemed funny, and Tony figured he could work with that.

The room they were in had three bunkbeds and a single bed, which was taken by Natasha. No one fought her on it, so the rest had to figure out what they were going to do.

Tony wanted a top bunk. He would be safer up there, and it'd be easier to hide if something went wrong. If he felt like he was going to have a panic attack, he could have one privately up on a top bunk.

Thor was good for a bottom bunk, and Barnes was too. The problem was whether or not Rogers would as well, and that was what Tony was worried about. He didn't want to ask, or say he wanted a top bunk. They already thought he was spoiled.

"What are you worried about?" Natasha asked him quietly.

"What bunk is Rogers going to be on?" 

"He'll take bottom bunk, probably."

Tony breathed out in relief, without meaning to. He realised Natasha was still there and looked at her, and she just smiled at him, nodding her head in the direction of the top bunk closest to her.

"Come to the bathroom with me in the morning. I'll touch up on that bruise."

The fact that she trusted him enough to go into a bathroom with him and him alone made his sleep that night a lot more peaceful. But of course, good things never last for Tony Stark.

"Were you in the bathroom together?" Barton asked when Tony walked back to his bed.

"I needed him to help with my makeup."

"You?" 

"Yes." Natasha raised a brow, like a warning. "Tony can do eyeliner pretty well. Steady engineer hands."

His hands shook most of the time, specifically around The Group. But she didn't mention that, and Tony didn't either.

Barton didn't seem to believe the answer, but he didn't dare say anything. He was terrified of Natasha, and for good reason. She broke his arm the first time they met because he had made a flirty joke.

"Engineer?" Barnes asked. "Bruce, wasn't your friend an engineer?"

Tony realised the mistake immediately. He looked at Natasha and wondered if she'd done it on purpose. She looked like she already knew, and Tony felt his stomach drop. 

"Yes." 

"Stark, you've won robotics competitions before, haven't you?" Barnes asked again. Tony didn't know what Bruce had told them, but he knew this was connected. He wanted to lie, but Rogers answered before he could.

"You have. I've seen you in the news for it."

Fuck fuck fuck.

Tony looked at Bruce with pleading eyes, begging him to lie and fix things somehow. He'd gone a few months without Barnes knowing who really made the arm, and he was planning to keep it up forever. They would be finished with school in a few more months and then Tony would never have to see The Group again.

"You're good at engineering and you're a robotics championship winner." Barnes looked between Bruce and Tony, and the evidence was written on Bruce's face. "Stark, did you-"

Tony ran out of the room.

"Can I come home?" Tony begged Howard over the phone. "If you tell the school that you need me for business or something, they'll let me come home. Please."

"You were so happy to leave." Howard said condescendingly. "Just like your fucking mother. Beg me again and I'll make sure you're gone till February."

"Please?" 

"Starks don't beg." Howard snapped. "Whatever problem you have, fix it. I don't have time for your bullshit."

Tony heard the call cut off and he sighed. He sighed and then cried, because, fuck. He'd messed up. They all knew now, and Barnes was going to rip his arm off and beat Tony with it. He'd probably think the arm was laced with a slow-killing poison and Tony was a murderer, just like his father.

Starks have blood on their hands. Of course Tony was too. 

Before he knew it, he was sobbing uncontrollably on the stairs of the hotel. He was hyperventilating too, and fuck, was he having a panic attack? He felt like he was. His lungs felt tight, like he was being waterboarded again.

There was a hand on his shoulder. It was cold, metallic almost. 

Fuck.

"Stark?"

Tony looked up with watery eyes, and there was James Barnes. His blue eyes were soft, gentle and not piercing like they usually were when they looked at Tony. 

"You made me an arm?" 

"I'm sorry."

"Why would you ever apologise for that?" Barnes sat down next to Tony. "You made me an arm."

"I broke it in the first place."

"And you made me a new one. A much better one. Whatever you did to it, it made me feel. I can feel human again and it's because of you. Why would you apologise for that?"

"I- you hate me. I thought you'd hate the idea of me making you an arm. I thought you'd hate me for not telling you. I thought you'd think I did something to it and accuse me of something worse."

"Stark- Tony, I don't hate you." Barnes smiled. "Not for this. I might've hated you before, but not anymore. You made me an arm, and I realised a while back that you didn't break the other one on purpose. It was an accident that I blamed you for because I was angry about the arm."

"It was still my fault."

"Not your fault. You fell into me by accident, and you made it up with this." Barnes lifted his prosthetic. "This is beautiful. I'm so grateful for it. I wanted to thank whoever made it since I got it. So, thank you, Tony."

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not. Fuck, Tony, you're a goddamn genius. You made me an arm. A prosthetic arm. You know how much skill that takes?"

Tony blushed. He wasn't used to such praise. 

"Come back to the room. I believe we all owe you apologies."

Tony didn't feel like he had a choice, so he wiped his face with his sleeves and stood up. He heard a stifled gasp and looked over at the boy next to him.

"What's on your face?"

FUCK.

"What?"

"You've got a bruise." Barnes- or was it Bucky now?- pointed out. "Right under your eye. Looks like someone got pissed and swung at you."

Were Tony's hands shaking? He felt dizzy. His hands were definitely shaking. "Cupboard door."

"Does the door have a Stark symbol on it?" Barnes asked, calling out Tony's bare-faced lie.

Tony wanted to run again. But he definitely couldn't run, because his legs felt weak and he was dizzy. When was the last time he ate? 

"Fuck, Tony, you're shaking." Barnes stepped closer, about to hold onto the shaking brunet, but Tony stepped back. It was a reflex, but he hated himself for it. "Tony?"

His head hurt. His eyes felt dark. Was he dying?

He hoped he was.

He didn't die. He woke up on Natasha's bed and wondered how he got there, and was about to get up and go to his own when he felt a hand in his hair. 

"Natasha?"

"Tony." She said sternly. "You fainted. When was the last time you ate?"

He genuinely couldn't remember. It was Tuesday now, wasn't it? Shouldn't they be on a rollercoaster right now, and not in their room, asking him about when he ate? Had he ruined their first proper day at Disney World?

"Tony?"

"I don't know." He replied honestly, immediately regretting it.

"Think."

"I'm trying." He rolled his eyes, and then he looked up at Natasha in fear, because this was Natasha and he shouldn't be rude to her. She was letting him sleep in her bed, and she was playing with his hair.

She didn't seem angry. More so worried. And concerned. Which wasn't usual for her. Why would she worry over him? He was useless and unworthy, just like his father had said.

"Saturday, I think." He was supposed to eat on Monday, but everything felt wrong and he was tired and he was stressed over the room situation. 

"Who hit you?" Barnes asked, even though he knew the answer. No one else with a Stark ring would hit Tony.

"Do I have to answer that?"

"Who looks out for you, Tony?" Natasha asked. He noticed then that only Bruce, Barnes and Natasha were in the room. 

"Where are the others?"

"We figured you wanted a bit of privacy." Bruce smiled sadly. "Who hurt you, Tony? Why aren't you eating?"

The smile on Bruce's face said everything Tony didn't want to know. Bruce knew what this was like. And Tony, selfish as ever, hadn't even noticed. This was why no one liked him.

"Get out of your head." Barnes folded his arms over, but it wasn't like when Rogers did it to scare him. "No one's judging you here, Tony. No one's thinking you're a terrible person or anything like that."

"We want to help you." Bruce sat on the edge of the bed. "If you were hurt by someone, I get it. I promise I do."

"You-"

"Mhm."

Fuck, he felt sick. He felt really sick. Maybe he should eat something. Howard wouldn't know if he ate. He was in Florida right now, and Howard was in Manhattan. He wouldn't know. He could eat freely in Disney World.

"You told me your father was strict." Natasha began. "Is there more to that?"

Tony shrugged.

"If you think you're alone, you're not. We're your friends, Tony. Bruce has always been, and I'd like to say the history project made us friends. I am comfortable with you. Are you, with me?"

"I- yeah." Tony didn't expect his own answer, but it was true. He was surprisingly comfortable with her. Having someone terrifying in your corner was comforting, because they're not scary anymore, at least with you.

"Be honest." She kept running her hands through his hair. "Is someone hurting you?"

He nodded. He didn't know why, but she was soothing him and he felt safe. He hated himself for feeling safe. But this was the most loyal friendship group he knew. He'd always wanted to be a part of it.

"And is it linked to why you don't eat?"

"Your father." Barnes said before Tony answered. "He hits you, and he doesn't want you to eat."

It was supposed to be a question but came out as a statement. A completely true statement. Tony wondered if Barnes and Natasha were actually superspies, or had mind-reading powers. Because they seemed to know everything. He couldn't tell if that was bad or not yet.

"I sent the others to get you food." Bruce stood up to get to the door. "They're here. Do you want them here?"

"I- they don't like me."

"I'll make them like you." Natasha smiled, and Tony was scared for them. "Clint will listen to me, Steve will listen to Bucky, and Thor is a big sweetheart. He never had a problem with you."

"They don't have to like me."

"You're a part of our group now. You don't get a choice." She said before Tony could say anything. "And we look out for each other. Which means they have to like you or they'll get their balls chopped off."

"Oh."

She laughed, and god, she was beautiful. Tony had always thought she was beautiful, even though he was never attracted to her. And she cared about him.

"We're in your corner now, alright?"

"I don't deserve it." Tony admitted honestly.

"You made me an arm." Barnes reminded him. "For that alone, you deserve it. But also, you're hurting and you don't have anyone. That's exactly what our group does for each other- be there."

"You can't fix me."

"We don't want to." Bruce said. "We just want to help by being there. Whatever you need, Tony."

And they were there.

Friendship was all Tony ever wanted, but even after making friends, it took him time to adjust to it. Being around Rogers- Steve, was a reminder of his father. The condescending attitude, the disappointment, it all reminded him of his father.

It took him a while to realise Steve was nothing like Howard. When Steve found out what happens in the Stark Mansion, he was livid, but for Tony. He was ready to take Thor and Bucky, barge in and beat Howard bloody.

Tony had found them lurking outside his house on several occasions.

They never did, because Natasha convinced them it'd be completely idiotic to go break into one of the richest men in the world's house. But they were always nearby, since Thor lived on the next road, and it was comforting. Whenever Tony needed an escape, Thor's house was where he went.

And The Group, his group were there when Thor called. All of them comforted Tony, even if it took a while for him to be okay with having support. He used to shrug them off, but eventually he leaned into the reassuring touches and let himself become comfortable. 

It was beautiful.

Whenever Tony wanted to eat, Thor invited him over. Thor, a big guy, who adored food, Pop Tarts specifically, was not pleased when he found out Tony didn't eat. He demanded that Tony came over at least once a day to eat a filling meal at the Odinson's. 

Tony met Loki there, and Loki was actually pretty entertaining. Loki wasn't the best with emotions, but he was good at cheering up Tony by starting harmless fights, and their quick responses to each other's insults made them friends. 

Slowly but surely, the Odinson's became a safe space, and his group were his safe people. He went to Clint and Loki to cheer himself up, Thor for friendliness, Steve and Bucky when he needed someone to insult his father and get angry for him, Bruce for someone to talk to who could relate and Natasha to patch him up or hide his injuries.

They were all there, and they always were. Even when they graduated and went off to separate colleges. He still had them in his corner, and it was the love he always wanted, always needed.

He knew it was a terrible thing to think, but he was happy he broke Bucky's arm. And a year later, Bucky had admitted, very personally, that he was glad Tony broke his arm. 

They helped each other feel human, and that had to be the most beautiful feeling.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark grew up with Howard Stark. Growing up with Howard Stark meant that there were very strong, very strict beliefs to follow. Howard's most harshly and repetitively enforced motto was Stark men are made of iron. So if Tony was anything below perfect, his father would have a fit.

This meant he couldn't do simple things like show his emotions or stay home from school if he was sick. To Howard, showing emotions or being incapacitated by illnesses were weakness, and he condemned weakness like it was the devil. 

Unwillingly, these beliefs became a part of Tony's life. Growing up, he refused to go against his father's beliefs. When Ana and Jarvis died, he refused to cry in front of the public, and when he got ill, he would walk into school and do just as well as he would when he wasn't ill.

The illness part wasn't as big of a deal for him, since he got lucky and was always healthy growing up. He hardly ever got sick, rarely broke bones, and barely acknowledged when he had a common cold. 

Which meant the arc reactor was a drastic change in his life. Before, he was always healthy, and then, suddenly, there was a hole in his chest, making it harder for him to breathe. The reduced lung capacity due to the arc reactor meant that it was a lot easier for him to fall ill to a common cold, which quickly exacerbated to more serious illnesses.

Since he got the arc reactor, he'd had pneumonia six times, and he never once went to the hospital for it. Hospitals were for weak people, and he wouldn't let himself get weak. The press would laugh and mock him for being weak enough to let a cold worsen to the point he needed hospitalisation. Howard would roll over in his grave.

He had private doctors on call for whenever his lungs decided to incapacitate him, and the only people who ever knew about his 'weaknesses' were Rhodey, Pepper and Happy. No one else needed to find out how weak Tony Stark was.

Which made the Avengers moving in so much more difficult.

Tony couldn't help but invite the Avengers in when he realised they were all practically homeless. He'd snooped around and found out that they lived in a small rooms on the helicarrier, which was outrageous to him, and he had taken them in like strays. 

He didn't want to admit it, but he really liked the Avengers. He was never promoted from consultant to official Avenger, but he liked his team regardless. Having two superspies, a super-soldier, a rage monster and a literal God in his home was surprisingly comforting.

He hadn't been ill in a while, so he didn't even have to worry about the superspies figuring out that he was a liability.

Although Tony was a man working two jobs- R&D for SI and consulting for the Avengers- he still tried to make time for his team. He liked them, unfortunately. He liked them a lot. He'd always desperately craved validation and friends that felt like family, and it was so close yet so far away.

It was hard seeing Natalie Rushman as Natasha Romanoff. He knew Natalie, barely, and he had his moments with her. He flirted, because how could he not, and then he found out that this woman was a secret superspy for some one-eyed man. 

Tony had trust issues, that much was obvious. Especially regarding his employees, after what happened with Obadiah. So finding out Natalie was never Natalie made his skin crawl and his head hurt. It wasn't that big of a deal, but he was still wary.

Natasha seemed nice, sweet. Surprisingly. At least, around Clint and Steve, and Bruce, and okay, Thor, so maybe everyone but him. She was more free and careless around the team, and Tony resented that. Because the closest he got to that was Natalie, not Natasha.

It took Natasha a week to figure out why Tony had been so wary around her. She hadn't noticed until one night she went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate, and Tony was there, and he left before the coffee was finished brewing. Tony loved coffee. There was an obvious problem there.

"You seem to have a problem with me." 

Tony looked up, not realising she'd come into his workshop. AC/DC was blasting loudly and he was in the zone, focussed. "What?"

"You left when I walked into the kitchen last week." She began. "For the past few weeks, you've been avoidant, more than usual. You try to interact with everyone and then you get uncomfortable when you're with me. What's the problem?"

"I don't have a problem."

"It's Natalie, isn't it?" 

Tony didn't know why she bothered asking, when it was clear that she already knew. "It's not a big deal."

"No it is a big deal." She put her hands down on his desk. "You are my teammate and housemate and I will not have you avoiding me because of a job I did. Why is Natalie such a big issue for you?"

"I thought we were friends. And then out of nowhere you stabbed me in the neck with lithium dioxide, wearing some non-business jumpsuit and was introduced as a fucking agent sent to spy on me." Tony crossed his arms. "You stabbed me in the neck with lithium dioxide."

"I was saving you."

"You could've warned me."

Natasha raised a brow. "Why is it so bad that I didn't warn you?"

"Because the last time someone creeped up on me, I was paralysed and had only thing keeping me alive yanked out of my chest like it was a pretty accessory." Tony snapped. He shouldn't have told her that. Barely anyone knew about that.

"And what I did was connected to the arc reactor." Natasha put the pieces together. "I'm sorry. I was only doing a job. And just because I'm not Natalie doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"You don't want to be friends with a textbook narcissist with self-destructive tendencies and compulsive behaviour." 

"You were dying. I think my report on you was unfair." She didn't like admitting her mistakes, but she did, and Tony appreciated it. "Give me a chance to reevaluate."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

The Avengers, he realised, liked him most when he had something to give them. Bruce liked Tony when he could help out with science, Clint adored being given gifts, Natasha liked when Tony when he wasn't dying, and Steve liked when Tony was being efficient.

To sum it up, everyone liked him when he worked. He figured that out when he dumped a bunch of weapons on a desk for them and they picked out what was best-suited for them. They'd showed gratitude and praised him for it, and he realised that this was his in. If he wanted to be liked, he would have to work for it.

He could deal with that.

Even Thor, whenever he returned, appreciated gifts. Thor had a lot, so having something from Earth was a big deal for him. It wasn't Tony he liked. He liked the connection to Earth and not Tony himself. He also liked Pop Tarts, which were bought with Tony's money. Tony's money was good. Not him.

But if the gifts worked, then that was enough for him.

Sometimes it wasn't enough, though. He would try to hang out with them and then realise they were already hanging out together, happy. And when he walked in to a room with the Avengers, there was a visible change in atmosphere. So he tried not to bother them if he didn't have new weapons for them.

Natasha was the only one who really tried. She would come by and sit in his workshop, reading or going on her phone, or doing absolutely nothing at all but give him company. He appreciated that. 

Sometimes it felt like she was still analysing him for all of his defects, but he never brought it up with her. He didn't want to ruin the only good thing he had with the Avengers. Even Bruce got tired (literally - he fell asleep whilst Tony talked) of him eventually.

Even though it hurt to feel like he was only wanted for his gifts, money and home, and not his personality, he pretended it didn't. If he worked enough, he'd forget. If he worked enough, they'd like him.

"Oh, Tony, you're here." Clint jumped up from the sofa. 

Tony was tired. He hadn't slept in a few days and had just finished a work binge. He had a new prototype for Pepper, a presentation and designs for more products ready for her, and he needed a little bit of beauty sleep before the pitch tomorrow.

"In the flesh." He didn't expect Clint to get so excited to see him. 

"You know those exploding arrows we talked about?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you made them yet?"

Oh. Of course Clint only wanted something Tony could make, not Tony himself. "Erm, no, I've been busy with the company. I could make them tomorrow after the meeting."

"Cool. Just let me know when they're done."

"Cool?" Steve had heard the conversation as he walked in. "It's not cool. We could get an Assemble call at any time. If Clint needs something for the field, he needs it as soon as possible." 

"I don't need it that badly-"

"No, Clint, this is important." Steve scolded. "The company can't be as important as Clint's life, can it?"

Tony swallowed uncomfortably. "You're right, I'll get it done now."

"Tony-" Clint watched the genius leave. "Steve, I didn't need them. They're not important, I just wanted them for fun. And his company is important, because it's how he makes his money, and without his money we'd still be in the shitty SHIELD quarters."

It's only about the money..

Tony walked faster, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. 

"Didn't you see how tired he looked?"

Tony was exhausted. He was fucking exhausted to the point he fell asleep for a minute, and ended up cutting his cheek on a piece of machinery, which woke him up. He would've splashed some cold water on his face to make him feel more alive, but that just reminded him of Afghanistan.

He spent the whole night working on Clint's arrows, tested them several times to make sure his sleep deprived mind didn't hurt Clint as well. Once he was sure they were effective and safe, he made his way to the communal floor, looking for the archer.

It was bright outside when he got into the kitchen, and he realised they were all eating breakfast. Without him. Together.

Like a team.

"I've got your arrows." Tony set them down onto the table before making some coffee. 

"Sweet!" Clint grabbed them, marvelling at the sight of them. "Thanks, Tony."

"No problem." 

Natasha was staring at him when he turned around from the coffee machine. "How long have you been awake for?"

"Since, um, the other day." To be honest, Tony had no idea what day it was, or what time it was. 

"JARVIS, how long-"

"JARVIS, mute." 

Natasha glared at him. "Eat something and then sleep. I assume you've not eaten since the 'other day', either."

Tony shook his head. He didn't think he could stomach food right now. What he wanted to do was go to sleep for the next twenty-four hours. He'd done all the work he could possibly do. He finished drinking his coffee and was about to leave when his phone rang.

Which was a weird thing for him, since usually JARVIS announced his calls.

"Hey, Pep. What-" His eyes widened a little bit. "Shit, that's today? What time? Oh, for fuck's sake." 

The call ended and Tony rubbed his eyes a little bit. He really wanted to sleep for a little bit, but then he had to make Clint's arrows and the whole night was gone. He had an hour to get ready for the presentation. He had no time for sleep.

If he passed out after the meeting, it'd be fine.

He ignored Natasha's staring and left the kitchen. What was another hour or two without sleep going to do?

The meeting went as well as Tony hoped, considering he was extremely sleep deprived and had layers of makeup on to hide the dark circles under his eyes and the cut on his cheek. He wore sunglasses as well, which helped with his headache. Maybe he should've tried sleeping for just a little bit.

He was ready to knock himself out for the day, but luck was not on his side. There was an Assemble call. JARVIS had tried to convince Tony to sleep, that he was going to fall unconscious and get hurt, but Tony ignored him.

Instead, Tony chugged some coffee and suited up, flying to wherever he was needed without hesitation. The team were already there, and were all ready to fight. Natasha asked him if he had slept, and he lied. 

She definitely realised.

By the time the fight was over, Tony was swaying a little bit. His chest was hurting a bit, his stomach ached and his head was pounding. He couldn't focus on whoever was talking on the comms, or whatever was going on around him.

He was sweating.

He didn't know why he was sweating.

"Iron Man." Someone knocked on his faceplate. "You in there?"

"Yes." 

"Debrief. Now." 

It was Steve. And he was still talking like Captain America, but angrier. What had Tony done now? Why was the Captain mad at him?

Tony wanted nothing more than to fly away and sleep, but he was stuck in a debrief with an angry captain. He refused to take off his suit, because then everyone would see how exhausted he was. 

"And, you, Stark," what was going on? He hadn't been paying attention. "Your main job is aerial support. So how did Natasha sprain her ankle? Because you didn't catch her?"

"It's not severe." Natasha said, knowing she'd had far worse injuries.

"Whether it's severe or not, he still failed to catch you. What if you didn't just get a sprain? What if you broke your ankle, or hit your head too hard?"

Guilt gnawed up in Tony's stomach. "I'm sorry, I- I wasn't focussed."

"Why?" Steve only seemed angrier. "Natasha's life could've ended because you weren't focussed."

"That's a stretch-"

"No, Nat. Don't defend him. He failed to catch you, like a good teammate would've." 

Tony stood up, his entire body struggling to stay stood up. His head hurt a lot more and his vision darkened, body swaying a little bit. But in the suit, no one could tell, and he thanked the suit for that. 

"Where are you going?"

"Away."

Tony passed out on the flight to the tower.

He woke up a few minutes after JARVIS had taken him to the workshop. JARVIS was insisting on Tony going to bed and sleeping, but Tony had fucked up and he needed to pay for it. He dove into work, building an apology weapon for Natasha. Maybe a multi-functional gun would do it.

Natasha liked guns and knives. He decided he'd combine them, finding a small gap to embed a penknife into. The design was ready, though some of his sketching was messy due to his headache, which had only gotten worse since the debrief.

"Sir, you should really sleep. Vitals show-"

"Mute."

The lights in the workshop turned red for a moment, showing that JARVIS was pissed off. Despite that, Tony kept working, even as his body felt like it was shutting down on him. He couldn't stop coughing, and his chest really fucking hurt.

Not to mention the sweating. Why was he still sweating? His body shook with random shivers, but he kept working. He had to keep working. It was all he was good for.

Steve walked into the workshop at some point, and Tony hadn't realised, until the man physically tapped Tony. "Stark."

Tony looked up and almost screamed. "What the fuck? When did you get here?"

"A minute ago. Look, about the debrief-"

"It's cool. I made a mistake so I'm going to make up for it." He picked up what would eventually be Natasha's gun-knife. 

"Tony." Steve sounded serious. "Why weren't you focussed? Were you drunk or something? Are you still drunk?"

"What?" Tony had been sober for a few months now. "No, I wasn't drunk-"

"Tony." Natasha walked into the workshop.

"Hey, Natashalie, you shouldn't be walking yet." Tony made his way over to her, ignoring the way his entire body screamed at him. "You need to put your leg up and rest. It'll only make it worse if you walk on it-"

"It's a minor sprain." She said. "When did you last sleep? You look like shit."

"I'm fine. I slept for a little bit earlier."

Natasha stared at him, analysing him. "You're ill."

"I'm not ill." Tony replied quickly. Whether he was actually ill or not, he hadn't realised. But he'd never admit that. Admitting to being ill was a weakness. He had to power through it or he'd be a disappointment, to his father, his team, to him. "You're injured."

"I'm fine." She said angrily. "I've walked with worse injuries. It's a fucking sprain, Tony. You need to fucking sleep."

Tony didn't know why she wanted him to sleep so badly. He was useless when he was asleep. When he's awake, he can make weapons for everyone, make new suits, improve his teams' suits and make money for the company. He was more useful awake.

"I'm fine. I've slept enough."

Natasha looked him up and down. "You're exhausted, visibly. You need to sleep. I don't care if you 'slept enough'. You're bullshitting me."

Tony was about to argue back, try to convince her he was fine, but the room started spinning. He felt like he couldn't really breathe, and before he knew it, everything was dark. 

Tony woke up in a white room. It hurt his eyes, but not as much as whatever that beeping was hurt his ears. He looked around and realised he had a needle in his hand and was connected to an IV. The beeping was his heartbeat. He had an oxygen mask on.

Immediately, he pulled the mask off and was about to carefully rip the IV out, when someone's hand held onto his and stopped him.

"Tony."

Red hair. Too dark to be Pepper's.

"Nat?"

God, his voice sounded terrible. His throat hurt too, which was quickly fixed by Natasha feeding him ice chips. He felt like a fucking baby.

"You had pneumonia. And you hadn't slept for ninety hours, according to JARVIS."

Snitch.

"Well, I assume I'm right as rain now, so-"

"Why didn't you tell me you were ill? Or tell the team?" Natasha asked, and only then did Tony realise the rest of his team in the corner of the room. 

"I didn't know I was ill."

"Why didn't you sleep? You'd have been better off if you weren't sleep deprived."

"I had work to do-"

"Not necessary work." Clint interrupted. "My arrows weren't that important. I got a chance to use them today, and as fun as they are, they're not something I desperately needed."

"Steve said-"

"Fuck what Steve said." Natasha glared at the blond. "You shouldn't have prioritised that over your sleep. You had an important meeting and you should've slept before."

"I was going to, but-"

"But Steve was a jackass. And he's going to apologise, isn't he?" Her tone was dangerous.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have forced you to-"

"You didn't force me to."

"I insisted and made you feel like you couldn't sleep. As if sleeping was a reward and you had to work for it or something." Steve seemed genuinely guilty. "Sleep is important. I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to stay up."

"It's not that big of a deal."

"You have pneumonia." Bruce stood up. "Fucking pneumonia. And you were still going to work, still going to ignore the fact that you need sleep. You're a hero, yes, but you're not superhuman. You could've died."

"I wouldn't have died."

"Why didn't you tell us your arc reactor made you much more vulnerable to illnesses?" Bruce asked.

Tony felt sick. "It's not important."

"It is important." Bruce's neck was turning green. "You could've fucking died. The Other Guy was outraged when he found out you were in hospital. I'm outraged."

"It's fine." Tony shrugged. "I'll be fine in a bit and then I can stop being useless and go back to working."

"Useless?" 

"Sitting in a hospital bed won't keep the company running, or keep the new gifts coming in."

Natasha seemed to figure out everything then. "You think you're useless when you're not working?"

"Well, aren't I? I'm not doing anything helpful right now."

"You fucking moron." She stood up angrily. "Is that why you've been making us things so much?"

"Well, yeah." Tony said casually. "It's all I'm good for."

Bruce left, the green patch spreading. Steve's knuckles were going white, and Tony made a mental note to keep working on stronger punching bags.

"I'm going to kill you." Natasha held his hand, which was confusing since she said she was going to kill him. "Making things is not all you're good for. And whether you make us gifts or not, you are still a valuable member of the team."

"It is all I'm good for." Tony snapped. "You guys only ever appreciate me when there's something new for you. You only like me when I come bearing gifts. Otherwise I'm some annoying presence. Aside from being Iron Man, building things is all I'm good for. I'm not gonna let stupid things like sleep or being ill stop that."

"Stupid things like being ill?" Steve shouted. "You had fucking pneumonia. My mom died of pneumonia, and even with the new medicine in this time, you still could've died, because your body can't handle being ill."

Tony fell silent. He didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't know Steve's mom died of pneumonia. It made the IV drip in his hand feel much more uncomfortable.

"Making new things for us is great, but Tony, it's not all you're good for. We like you for you. You don't have to keep giving us gifts in order for us to be a team, to be friends." Clint said softly.

"Oh, bullshit. I heard you talking to Steve about how the company is important because it makes money and keeps a roof over your head. You guys want me for money and weapons and that's it."

"I didn't mean it like that." 

"It doesn't matter." Tony tried to rip out the needle, but Natasha grabbed his hand and moved it away. 

"You are going to stay in this damn bed, get better and rest and then we're going to talk some more about your lack of respect for your life." Natasha said sternly. "Don't be the man from the report."

Self-destructive tendencies.

He was supposed to be better.

Tony woke up nearly a full day later, feeling almost refreshed. He needed that sleep. And his pneumonia seemed to be almost gone, which was a good sign. He was ready to sneak out of the room and go back to his workshop, but Natasha was sitting in the corner, reading.

He was not going to piss her off again.

"Morning."

"It's seven pm." 

"Oh."

"You feeling better?" She closed the book.

"Yeah." 

"Good, because we're going to talk about why you won't admit you need help to anyone." Natasha left no room for argument. "You're going to tell me why the fuck you feel so inadequate and afraid of admitting you're ill."

"I don't-"

"You do." Her voice seemed more gentle. "Why?"

"I can't be ill." Tony said simply. "It makes me useless."

"What?" 

"Not working means I'm useless."

"Who put that dumb fucking idea in your head?"

Tony shrugged.

Natasha stood up and sat on the foot of the bed, reaching out to hold Tony's hand. "Whoever made you feel like that is a fucking jackass, and if they're alive, I'll kill them. You are not useless just because you're ill. And you don't have to work yourself to the ground just so people will like you. You are human, not a machine. You need to take time to rest."

"I've rested enough." Tony said quietly. "And they're dead."

"Good."

Tony was unusually quiet, staring at the ceiling as Natasha traced patterns on his hand. He didn't know the last time someone made him feel so safe, so comfortable, so appreciated. He wasn't doing a fucking thing and she still appreciated him.

What a foreign experience.

"You aren't going to make us anything unless it's important. Unless you enjoy doing it, and not because you feel like it's all you're good for. And you're going to sleep and eat like a normal fucking person. And when you feel like shit, you're going to come to me. Whether you talk about it or not, it doesn't matter. I'm here, to listen, or to just be there. Understood?"

Tony wanted to cry.

"Understood."

"Good." Natasha leaned over to kiss his forehead. "You can rest now."

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was not a well-liked person. To the media and teenage girls who lived far from him, he was smart and attractive, but the people who did know him did not like him. When the media's watching, Tony can act and look flawless, charm anyone and everyone. He's raised to be perfect at doing that. 

But when he's free to be himself, fuck if he knows who that is. Tony Stark is a genius playboy, according to the media. Tony doesn't know who he really is aside from that. Besides, no one seems to like the boy he is when he's not behind a camera.

Sure, he can act like a dick sometimes, or maybe be a little too annoying when he's flirting, but he only acts that way because he doesn't know how to act. He's uncomfortable in his own skin constantly, and has been for a long time, and when there's no pressure of having to be perfect, he still feels like someone should be giving him a role to play.

Because Tony is incredibly smart and only fourteen in senior year, people tend to get jealous. They also tend to get mean, trying to force him to do their homework or copy his answers. Tony doesn't usually let people cheat off of him, because even though being smart comes naturally to him, he still works his ass off to get where he is.

He doesn't like people using him when he's worked so hard to be where he is.

He's only got one year left of high school anyway, and then he's going to college and high school won't matter. He can deal with being hated by most of the school, deal with the other elitist kids picking on him cause he won't be one of them, deal with his friend-crush on the 'Avengers', deal with having only one friend. He can deal with all of this, just for one more year.

Tony's father is a dick. Tony is the way he is because of his father. If Howard Stark wasn't an alcoholic with anger issues, who screams and shouts and hurts his son every other week, then Tony would be a different person.

Tony would be more confident, less anxious, more happy as a person, if it wasn't for Howard Stark. 

Most kids can go to their parents if they're in trouble. Tony can't. Even if his father is the one of the most powerful men in the world, Tony is unable to go to Howard for anything. When someone hurts Tony, Tony keeps it to himself. When Tony has panic attacks and nightmares, he goes out of his way to make sure Howard never finds out.

It hurts Tony to know that he can't turn to his father for anything. His support system can be counted on one hand. He has Jarvis, Rhodey, Pepper and Bruce. Except he never tells Bruce anything personal, Rhodey and Pepper only ever guess what's going on in Tony's life and Jarvis is there but never explicitly talks about Tony's struggles.

He does not have his father.

That hurts, quite a lot.

It's the twelfth of September when luck decides to be a fucking cunt to Tony. He's put into a group for a project, and it's not fair on him at all, because the group he's put in hates him. The only person who likes him is Bruce.

The Avengers are the people Tony dreams of being friends with. Thor and Steve are big, golden retrievers, Natasha and Bucky are terrifying, Clint is sarcastic and Bruce is a genius. But because Tony almost broke Bucky's arm in junior year, the group has hated him since, except Bruce. Bruce has to like Tony, because no one else understands Bruce's genius like Tony.

The Avengers don't like Tony, which feels like shit considering they like everyone, except the worst people in school. The worst people consist of Justin Hammer, Sunset Bain, Tiberius Stone, Aldrich Killian, Brock Rumlow, aka the elitist snobs that Tony doesn't want to be friends with. So the fact that the Avengers hate the elitists and Tony makes Tony feel like he is one of the elitists.

In a perfect world, Tony would be one of the elitists. He has the money, the family name and the looks. The reason why he isn't one of the elitists is because he doesn't have the money personally (well, he does have some money, but he doesn't show it off), he doesn't flex his family name and he is beyond afraid of his own looks. For an attractive boy, he is largely insecure.

It's not easy to love yourself when more often than not your body is covered in hideous bruises, each in different stages of healing.

That means, in the imperfect world we live in, Tony isn't one of the elitists. He's just a boy with money and a powerful surname, but no real happiness and no real friends. He's not one of the elitists. Just one of the world's loneliest creatures.

The Avengers groaned when Tony ends up being unwillingly put into their group. Miss Hill seemed to have it out for him, or them, because he's the only person who doesn't have a group to work with, so she puts him with the Avengers. Everyone knows the Avengers are practically angels (even Natasha and Bucky), and everyone knows Tony is disliked- Miss Hill included. She must hate all of them.

Bruce is the only one who seems somewhat excited to work with Tony. Bruce has been telling Tony to try being himself, because Bruce likes the boy in the science classroom, and he knows his friends would too. Problem is, Tony doesn't know who he is, and the boy he is in science is just a massive fucking nerd, and only fellow nerds like that.

"I expect all of you to do the project outside of lesson time. Whether that fits into your school schedule or outside, I expect it done. You have two months for this, however, and it's forty percent of your grade, so spend time on it and work hard, because I will not extend deadlines or grade the work leniently. Understood?"

The class chorused an understood back, and immediately complain quietly after.

"Where are we going to work on this?" Steve asked. "Cause Bucky, Thor and I have football (the real football where you kick a ball with your foot) most of the time and Bruce does extracurricular sciences. We'll have to do it outside of school."

"We could do it at-" 

Clint elbowed Bruce, cutting him off. Tony noticed. He's not stupid- they don't feel comfortable with him coming over to any of their houses, which is where he assumes they would've worked on the project if not for him. 

"Stark, you decide."

"Coffee shop?" Tony looked at their faces, anticipating how they'd react.

"Alright." Natasha said, packing her stuff up. "We'll see you then."

Tony stayed where he was, wondering if he should say something about how they didn't give him a time, or a specific place. There's one coffee shop nearby that most Shield students hang out at, but there's still at least six other coffee shops in town alone that they could be referring to. The fact that he isn't given a time doesn't help either.

"Tony."

The Avengers are gone, and so is most of the class. Tony didn't even hear the bell or notice that everyone else had packed up and left. 

"Tony, leave my classroom." 

"Miss- can- could I-"

"I'm not changing your group."

Tony wanted to bash his head into the nearest wall, but he can't, and he won't. Instead, he left the classroom with a scowl on his face, and a mental note to punch the next person who pisses him off. 

Bruce texted Tony the time and place that night, and Tony wanted to die. The coffee shop was on the other side of town, far from where he lived. Howard refused to give Tony a car, so Tony would have to walk. He'd probably end up at the coffee shop twenty minutes late, and that alone made him feel ill.

The walk there was peaceful, despite his gnawing fear of further disappointing the Avengers. His music was blasting in his ears and the sun shone, a warm feeling settling over his body like a hug (which was sad, because no one really touched Tony anymore, let alone hugged him).

His peace was ruined when he got to the coffee shop and saw everyone already sat down. He checked his phone and saw that he was fifteen minutes late, and pulled out his headphones to be respectful. He was going to get screamed at and he wasn't going to drown it out with music.

"You're late." Natasha said. 

"Sorry, er, this place is a bit far from my house."

"You wanted to work in a coffee shop. If it was inconvenient, you should've chosen somewhere else. Your house, maybe, since it's such a trek to leave it." Natasha scolded him, like an angry teacher. 

Tony hated it. "Sorry. What did I miss?"

"We were waiting for you, so you haven't missed anything." Bruce said politely. Even so, Tony knew that Bruce was a little bit pissed that he was late.

"Okay. Erm, I'm gonna- I'm gonna get a coffee. Do- do you guys want anything?" Tony hated the way he kept stumbling over his words, but he didn't know how to do this. Talking to people, working with people- it wasn't his thing. He barely knew how to communicate with Bruce.

"Large hot chocolate with whipped cream, if you don't mind." Clint said happily, jumping at the chance to have someone buy him something. It didn't matter that it was Stark, he would accept a free drink off of anyone (which Natasha told him not to do, because he could get drugged).

"Aye, I'd like one too." Thor smiled. 

"Sure." Tony nodded when no one else said anything. This coffee shop was expensive, but thirteen dollars wasn't much for him. Or at least, everyone else thought so. He only had twenty bucks on him (Howard was stingy) and thirteen was gone, but it was okay. He should probably start carrying more cash on him anyway.

"Much appreciated, Stark." Thor cheered when Tony came back with the drinks.

"Cheers." Clint said simply.

Tony felt like some of the tension had been lifted. Though the rest still seemed a little bit pissed, it was okay. At least Thor was grateful, and maybe Clint was too. Maybe this is what he had to do to get them to like him.

Buy them stuff.

Tony's love language was gifting anyway, and most people like to be gifted things. This could work.

His theory was tested rather quickly. When everyone was done working for the night, there was an agreement to come back to the same place every week on Thursday, unless someone couldn't go. Natasha said something about being on time, and it felt very targeted. 

And then there was the opening.

"Does anyone have spare change for the bus?" Steve asked.

"Nitwit forgot he only had a tenner on him and spent it all on his drinks. Now we have no way home." Bucky shoved Steve playfully.

"Shit, I'd give you a ride but we walked." Clint gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I'm broke too."

"I, er, have change." Tony offered. He didn't need seven dollars. He could live without it. "How much do you- actually, er, just take it all." 

Tony dumped the notes into Steve's hand quickly. 

"Oh, er, thanks." Steve managed to say. "That's real sweet of you. I'll pay you back tomorrow-"

"Nonsense. I can live without it." Tony said casually. He noticed the annoyance on Bucky's face and immediately tensed up. "Not that- er- I'm not- ok, bye."

Tony felt like throwing up as he quickly walked away. Okay, giving people gifts and money made people like him, but flexing his money made people hate him. His theory could be further tested next week. Next week, he'll get there early and buy everyone drinks beforehand. He just had to remember what drinks everyone got earlier.

"You're early." Natasha was surprised to see Tony at the booth they were at last time, drinks already paid for.

"Thought I'd make it up for last time." Tony shrugged. 

"Sick, who got drinks?" Clint picked up the nearest one and almost choked when he realised it was still hot. Conveniently, it was the hot chocolate Tony got just for him.

"I did." 

"Sweet, Stark's not half-bad." 

Tony felt a sense of pride. His theory was definitely right, and maybe this could work. If he just kept buying things for everyone, maybe they'd like him more. Maybe they'd hang out outside of the project. Tony's friend-crush wouldn't be a crush for long, because hopefully they'd all be friends soon.

The others seemed to completely ignore the fact that drinks were already there, sitting down and drinking like it was nothing. Tony thought it was a little bit careless, but there was hardly any tension at the table and everyone seemed to be working smoothly. 

When Tony realised everyone had finished their drinks and there was still a while before everyone would split up, he decided to buy a whole new round (of coffees and hot chocs, not alcohol). No one thought too hard on it, thanking Tony simply and continuing to work.

This was the closest he'd had to friendship in a while. Hopefully they'd warm up to him more before the project was over. Hopefully it would be real friendship, not just a forced group project.

Tony was almost annoyed at the hopefulness, the excited anticipation. But instead of berating himself for it, he just smiled to himself and kept up with the others. 

Before everyone left, Tony dumped a ten dollar bill in Steve's hand. "For the bus."

He was off before someone could argue, or thank him.

"You've been going out a lot recently."

"It's- I went out twice." Tony looked at his father in confusion. "And it was for a group project."

"As if anyone would actually want to hang out with you." His breath reeked of alcohol. "Did you make those blueprints I asked you for?" 

Shit. "Oh, um, I- I was gonna do them tonight."

"So now this 'group project' is more important than my company?" Howard backhanded Tony suddenly. "Fucking pathetic. I ask you to do one fucking thing and you can't even do that. And you wonder why I don't give you whatever you want. You're fucking spoiled anyway." 

Tony forced himself not to hold onto the reddening skin on his face, or to shield himself from whatever hits were coming next. "I'm sorry. I'll get them done by tomorrow."

"I want them done before today fucking ends or I swear to god-"

"I get it."

"Don't interrupt me." Howard hit Tony again, his rings cutting into the teenager's cheekbone. "Done by tonight or I'll break both of your hands. And I'll still make you finish those fucking blueprints after. Understood?"

"Understood."

Tony walked to his room, ignoring the stinging pain in his face. He had to keep hanging out with the Avengers and keep buying them stuff. His father was right, no one really wanted to hang out with him. So he had to make them want him by paying for whatever they needed. 

He couldn't lose them when they were so close to finally being his friends.

Tony paid for everyone every single time they worked at the coffee shop. Each and every week, he'd go out of his way to get there early and pay. And every single time they split up, Tony would give Steve money for him and Bucky to use for the bus. He always ran off before he could get a thank you.

Two months passed by quickly, and Tony felt an overwhelming anxiety creep up inside him, because this was the last time he'd hang out with them. He'd hoped that they would befriend him by now, even if it meant he'd still pay for them whenever and whatever, but so far, so not good.

The only time the Avengers spoke to Tony was when they worked on the project. Bruce, of course, spoke to Tony during science, but that was it. Maybe one of them would nod at Tony in the hallways, or smile, but that was politeness, wasn't it? 

Tony was really fucking scared. He wanted to be friends with the Avengers so badly, and he'd been given an opening, and fuck, he wanted this so badly, and he was trying so hard to make the most of the opportunity. He was fighting with Howard constantly over how late he got home on Thursdays, and how work was slower recently, and it'd been for the Avengers.

It had to be worth it.

"Let's wrap up now. I'm so glad this project is over." Clint groaned. 

Tony wanted to cry. Clint was so glad that he wouldn't have to hang out with Tony anymore. 

"Will all of you be regrouping at mine tomorrow?" Thor asked. "I need all of you to help me prepare."

"Prepare for what?" Tony asked, biting his tongue when he realised this conversation didn't include him. Clearly he was unaware because they didn't want him to know. 

"Have we not informed you?" Thor seemed genuinely surprised. "Ah, friend Tony, I am having a party at my house as my parents are away for the weekend."

Friend.

"You should come." 

Tony didn't know if they were asking as a formality or if they really wanted him to join, but he agreed nonetheless. "Is there anything you want me to bring?"

"Snacks, booze, anything else rich boys can get their hands on." Clint grinned. "I heard rich people always have the best dealers."

This confirmed that they wanted him for the money, but at least this was friendship too. They wanted him to be at a party, early before everyone else, which is what friends get to do. He was part of the group now. If money was the literal cost for their friendship, Tony would pay the price easily.

"You guys interested in pinging?" 

"Pinging?" Bruce looked confused. 

"MDMA, ecstasy, molly, whatever you wanna call it. I also know guys who do coke, ketamine, LSD.."

"Score!" Clint cheered. "Oh Tony you're the best. Get everything. I don't know what drug buying is like, but do what you must. Thor, your party is gonna be lit."

Natasha cringed at the word lit. "Never say lit again, but yes, it's gonna be pretty cool. Tony, you're a star."

Tony didn't care that they only appreciated him for the money. This was enough attention and validation. He was so fucking excited to finally be part of the group he'd been friend-crushing on for so long.

"I'll send you the details." Bruce smiled. "We'll see you then." 

"Bye guys." Tony smiled back, handing a tenner to Steve again as usual.

Fuck. Now Tony had to find someone who sold MDMA, ketamine, coke and LSD.

"Seriously? What the fuck, Tony, you want hard drugs?"

"Please, please, please can you find me a sketchy dealer at your college, please. My friends are counting on me for this."

"You're such an overachiever. Why must you decide to do stupid things without any preparation beforehand?" Pepper's sigh was audible through the phone. "You're so lucky my roommate's a druggie. I'll send you their contact in a bit."

"I love you so fucking much, Pep." 

"Yeah yeah. Be safe, okay? Don't get hurt, don't get in trouble, and don't do too much of anything. Definitely don't mix either."

"No alcohol and drugs or no drugs with drugs?"

"Neither, asshole. I'm not going to be responsible for you ending up in the ER, or worse, a damn coffin. Understood?"

"Understood. Love you Pep."

"Love you too, Tony."

True to his words, Tony managed to bring all four of the drugs he'd offered, and was given five grams of weed for free due to his large purchase. He was absolutely terrified meeting the dealer, but she smiled, told him to stay safe and to enjoy the party she could tell he was going to. 

Tony walked into Thor's mansion with ten litre-bottles of vodka and a dangerous cocktail of drugs. His bank account was crying, and he'd definitely stop spending money for at least a month or three after this, but it was okay. The Avengers all thanked him and sang his praises, so it was okay.

Besides, the project was over. He wouldn't have to buy everyone's drinks, sometimes several for each, and also pay for Steve and Bucky's bus fare. He'd be saving money now that the project was over, and he doubted he'd spend six-hundred dollars on drugs again in the near future. 

It was a shock to Tony when he realised how expensive drugs were. 

Tony watched a party come to life, watched people take the drugs he supplied, drink the drinks he bought, and enjoy themselves. Even though he was here, he was invited, he was loved because of the money he spent, he still felt an aching pit in his stomach.

His ribs hurt, because he had fought with Howard over going out, because he couldn't miss Thor's party. His wallet hurt. He was hurting. But it was okay, because if this was love, then he was doing it all for love. He would make that sacrifice. 

Only being wanted for money felt like an agonising cramp in his heart, in his stomach, in his head, in his entire being, but it was okay. He was doing it all for love.

Thor's house was a mansion, just a little bit smaller than Tony's. The entire building was stunning, and definitely party material. Some rooms were locked up and people respected Thor enough to not damage his property or have sex in one of the bedrooms. 

Tony was drunk. He decided not to try any of the incredibly expensive drugs he bought because he wasn't interested in overdosing once he finally found friends, but he had kept the weed for himself. Someone else had offered him a joint, so, selfishly, he kept the five grams in his pocket and smoked someone else's joint.

This weed was lovely. And so was the vodka. 

He felt on top of the world. Tony was lying on the landing of the luxurious imperial staircase, smoking a joint and sitting up to drink from a bottle he kept for himself every now and then. People went around him, over him, and sometimes stepped on him, but he was drunk and so were they, so neither registered it.

His bubble was popped when someone came up to him, lying beside him with a joint as well. He quickly recognised the red hair as Natasha's, and waved at her, not realising she wouldn't see it. 

"Hi Tony."

"Hello Natasha."

"You okay?"

"I'm okay." Tony said honestly. "This is nice."

"Thor's house? Yeah, it's gorgeous."

"No.. this." Tony reiterated. "Everything."

"Everything?"

"Friends." Tony was too blissed out to care that he probably sounded pathetic. "I know it's just- well, it's okay. It's okay. I'll pay that price. I'm happy."

"Friends, as in, being our friend?" Natasha asked. 

"Yeah." 

She was quiet for a moment. "You don't have a lot of friends, do you?"

"No." Tony admitted honestly. "But it's okay."

"You have us now." Natasha nudged him gently. "We were wrong about you. Thought you were a massive dick. Turns out you're really nice."

Really generous. "I can be a dick sometimes."

"That's just you hiding, isn't it?" 

Tony shrugged. "I want to lie here forever. In this moment, I swear, we are infinite." 

"The Perks of Being a Wallflower?" Natasha recognised the quote. "I didn't think you'd be the type to watch movies like that."

"You don't really know me." Tony said slowly. "But it's okay. You don't have to know me to- I'll still, you know, everything."

"What?" 

"Nothing. Are you going to be infinite with me?"

"Of course."

The Monday after the party, Tony walked into school with hope. He didn't know how the new friendship with the Avengers was going to work, but he was excited. Would they let him sit with them at lunch? Would he come to their football matches and cheer them on? Would they still want him to pay for everything, or would just Tony himself be enough?

He had science with Bruce before lunch, so that would be helpful. Bruce was the messenger, so if they wanted him to sit with them at lunch, he'd find out then. And from then, he'd find out how friendship with them worked.

Tony thought it was a little bit pathetic, the way he longed for their friendship so badly. But a lot of things about him was pathetic, like how his body was covered in bruises because he couldn't be good enough for his father to love. He hated the way his ribs still ached and breathing was a little bit painful, but it was worth it, because Thor's party was everything.

He didn't remember much of his conversation with Natasha, but he remembered her saying they were friends. She terrified him before, and continued to terrify him, just a little less than before, so her saying they were friends meant a lot to him.

It felt like luck was finally on Tony's side when Bruce told him to go get lunch with him. Thor had almost picked Tony up and dragged him to the table, which made a lot of people stare. Hammer and Stone looked at Tony with a snobby scowl on their faces, but Tony couldn't care less.

This was friendship.

"We've got a match for the sporting of football after school." Thor exclaimed. "Would you like to accompany us, Tony?"

This was everything Tony wanted and more.

"Sure." He tried to hide his excitement. 

"We're going out to that cute little diner nearby after school." Clint said. "You gonna come with for that too?"

"I'll have to see if that can fit into my busy schedule." Tony joked. 

"Shut up, you have no plans." Clint threw a chip at him.

"My assistant said I can grace you with my presence." Tony sighed dramatically. "I expect lots of thank-yous."

Clint rolled his eyes. "You not getting lunch?"

"Spent all my cash on Friday." 

Tony realised he'd messed up. They needed his money, and if he didn't have any, then they wouldn't want him. Clearly the invite to the cafe was for him to buy everyone's meals. If he didn't, they wouldn't want him. He needed to get money before school finished. He couldn't lose this friendship now.

"How much was all the shit you brought anyway?" Bucky asked. 

"Don't worry about it." He learned from his mistakes. He wasn't going to flaunt how much money he had. They liked his money, not his arrogance.

"I was wondering that too." Bruce said quietly. "How much was all of it? You brought a lot of stuff." 

The vodka alone was two-hundred dollars. The drugs on top of that was six-hundred. He didn't need them to know he almost spent a grand in one night, especially because they didn't have that type of money to throw around. Except Thor. And Thor was humble about his wealth. Tony had to be as well.

"Don't be shy now, Stark." Natasha teased, but the usage of his last name made him uncomfortable. He thought he'd been upgraded to his first name now.

"The vodka was two hundred." Tony dug his nails into his palms anxiously. "Cause- cause the litre bottles were twenty each, and I bought ten, so.. yeah." 

"Jesus fuck, two hundred." Clint's jaw dropped. "No fucking way. You just have money like that lying around or some shit? Christ, I don't think I spend that much money in a whole year."

"You didn't have to spend that much." Steve said, sounding almost irritated at the way Tony could spend so much so easily.

"You- you told me to bring booze, so I did." Tony felt like this was a trap. He did what they asked and now they were mad because of it. "Alcohol's expensive. I just wanted to do something nice for- for the party."

"We appreciate it." Natasha smiled. "But next time, don't spend so much, alright?"

"I don't-" Why was this a problem if he could afford it? His father was beyond rich. He thought they wanted him to spend money, but they don't want him to spend a lot? Tony had never felt so lost in his life. Friends were so fucking confusing. "Okay."

"Tony, I would be most willing to pay for your lunch as you lack cash at the moment." Thor offered happily.

"No, no, it's okay." Tony lied. He hadn't eaten the previous night, since he was busy doing work that Howard had demanded he do, so he was genuinely hungry. But he didn't want Thor to spend money on him. "I ate something at break."

"If you insist."

Tony slowly became a part of the Avengers, properly. He went to every match, walked Natasha home on nights when even she felt unsafe, helped them with their homework, and most importantly, paid for everything. He made it his job to ask everyone what they wanted whenever they ate out, and paid for it without them realising.

He didn't know if they realised he was paying for everything, or did and just didn't care, but either way, he'd keep doing it. He started using his card a lot more, which was riskier because Howard could see what he spent on his card. 

Howard had actually confronted Tony about his reckless spending, and Tony had just taken the beatings instead of answering why he was spending so much. Howard didn't cut Tony off though, lucky, because otherwise Tony wouldn't do work for SI. 

Besides, Obadiah had convinced Howard to pay Tony for the work he did. It took a while, but Howard gave in, and that meant Tony was getting a lot more money than before. He didn't care that he was spending it recklessly, and barely spending the money for himself. 

He had friends now.

He was doing it all for love.

Money was no issue.

One night, things went wrong. Tony had bought molly for the group, and all seven of them were gonna take it together, just them, in Thor's huge house. None of them had ever tried molly before, or even the other hard drugs Tony bought for the party a while back.

This was a new experience.

After letting the disgusting pill dissolve on their tongues, all of them agreed to never to do it again. The taste was absolutely vile. But then it kicked in an hour later, and the group felt on top of the world.

"This feels fucking amazing." Clint said, lying on the floor. "It's like, I've never been so happy. My eyes are shaking a bit. But I feel amazing."

"I feel euphoric." Tony smiled. He was lying down as well, and true to his words, he felt euphoric. He'd never felt so happy, so free, so amazing in his life. This was the dream. 

"Tony, I don't know how you know people who get this for you, but thank you." Steve shouted across the room. 

"My friend in college found me a dealer." Tony said. "She was a bit worried when I asked for a dealer for hard drugs."

"It's all for fun, though." Natasha decided. "We're not going to do this often. I'm not getting addicted to molly, even though it's good."

"How much is molly?" Thor asked. "Must be quite expensive, no?"

"It's twenty dollars for three. I got nine, for sixty. There's two leftover if anyone wants to keep it." Tony said casually, forgetting the rule of not showing off. 

"Shit, that's a lot." 

"Not really." Tony shrugged. "Compared to the other drugs the dealer sells, this is pretty cheap."

"How much did you spend that time you came here with a shitton of drugs?" 

"Six hundred."

"WHAT?" The six of them shouted.

Tony was too blissed out to care that he absolutely fucked up. "It's not that much."

"Not that much?" Steve stared in shock. "Six hundred dollars is insane."

"It's okay. I had to."

"You had to?"

"So you guys would be happy?" Tony was so sure before, but now he was confused. He didn't want his high to be ruined, but it felt like maybe it would. "You guys wanted drugs, I got drugs."

"What do you mean, so we'd be happy?" Natasha raised a brow. 

"Money is a love language." Tony said like it was obvious. "I like paying, you guys like being paid for."

Natasha vaguely remembered the conversation from the party, and things started to click. "Tony, why do you think we're friends with you?"

"For money, no?" 

The room was painfully silent, and Tony felt like he'd walked into a trap. He was still lying down, meaning he didn't have to look at anyone's faces. His high was being ruined, and he just wanted to feel good. He didn't need this.

"Tony..?"

He stood up quickly, walking to the room where his stuff was. 

"Where are you going?"

"You guys are ruining my high." Tony didn't look at any of them. "I'm going to go be high in peace." 

"Tony-"

He left before any of them could say anything. They wanted him for money, but they didn't want him to say it. They wanted him to pay for stuff, but didn't want him to flaunt his wealth or talk about how much he spent, even though they asked. He felt like he couldn't win.

Tony didn't know where he was walking to, but he kept on walking. The ground felt like ice and his feet were gliding across it. His eyes were shaking, his head was fuzzy, and he was chewing gum like his life depended on it, to make sure his jaw didn't keep chattering. 

He felt infinite.

Eventually, Tony managed to make it to his house. Muscle memory kicked in and he was home, but the moment he got home, he felt like his high would be ruined. He ignored his father screaming at him when he got in, and went straight to his room.

Howard followed suit, and started shouting at Tony about whatever the fuck he was shouting about. Tony felt deaf, maybe blind too, and Howard decided to start hitting him. The slaps, punches and kicks all felt like tiny taps, because Tony was infinite and invincible.

Howard was gone, and Tony was on the floor. He decided he'd stay there, listening to music in his headphones, staring at the ceiling. He could dwell over the Avengers situation later. Right now, he'd enjoy his high.

He hoped the others were too.

The memories of the night before had Tony almost throwing up when he was finally awake and sober. He didn't know why they were mad that he said they only wanted him for money, but he was a little bit scared because of it. He couldn't lose them now.

Maybe they didn't like the way Tony said it. Maybe it was offensive. Perhaps he should've said it a different way, or not said it at all.

Fuck, MDMA might've ruined his friendship.

Tony wanted to scream. He had the weekend to sort his shit out, and then he had the last few months of school to avoid the Avengers forever. Or maybe he could give all of them glamorous gifts to make them take him back.

Fuck, Tony felt pathetic.

Tony's plan to avoid the Avengers was foiled very quickly. He had been doing a good job at avoiding them up until lunch, and then they kidnapped him and took him to an empty classroom.

Like, physically kidnapped. Thor picked him up and carried Tony over his shoulder despite Tony's struggle to get free. 

"We need to talk."

"This is kidnapping."

"Tony, did you mean what you said on Friday?" Steve asked. "I know we were all high, but did you mean it?"

Tony didn't know how to reply. He could've said it was because he was high and then they'd all move on and stay friends in peace, but Natasha and Bucky were scarily good at reading people and it might not work. "No?"

Fuck, it was not meant to come out as a question.

"You really think we only stick around cause of your money?" Bucky's Brooklyn accent came out strong. Shit, he was pissed.

"I mean- well, yeah?" Tony looked around nervously. "I mean, from the start, I- I've been paying for everything and- well, you guys seem to like me most when I pay for stuff. And you've never been against me buying things. I- I don't, it doesn't matter that- it's not a problem. I don't mind it."

"Jesus, Tony, we don't want you cause of your money."

"Then why have you been letting me pay for everything?" Tony was a little bit pissed now, too. "If you didn't want me for the money, you would've said something. I am not in the wrong here."

"We- shit, we honestly didn't realise." Clint admitted. "Fuck, I've been- oh shit, this is probably my fault. I was way too happy with you paying for stuff at the start. I didn't realise you never stopped."

"It's not a problem though." Tony almost shouted. "I don't care if you guys want my money."

"God, Tony, we don't." Natasha shook her head. "We want you for you. Tony, we like you. We like your dumb science jokes, your sarcasm, your willingness to help us with studying, and not for your money."

"But- how? How can you just-"

"Tony, we like you." Bruce said. "I've liked you long before the rest of them did, and you didn't buy anything for me, did you?"

"No, but-"

"Don't." Bruce cut him off. "You are a good person, and a good friend, and you don't need to buy us stuff for that to be true. I'm sorry none of us realised what we've done. We'll do better, and you are not allowed to buy us stuff, understood?"

"But-"

"Understood?"

"Damn, Brucie, you can be quite demanding when you want to be." Tony joked to get rid of the itchy feeling that came from people being nice to him. 

"Are you okay?" Thor held onto Tony's shoulder. "You are our friend, and not for your riches. I hope you are aware of that."

"I'm okay, bud." Tony smiled.

He wasn't lying.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark is Iron Man. He and the suit are one.

This is not common knowledge.

There are a few people in the world who know who is beneath the armour. Those few people consist of Rhodey, Pepper, Obadiah (does it count if he's dead?), Coulson and Fury. 

After Obadiah died, Tony had a press conference. He was given cards to read from, a lie to recite from SHIELD, a secret to keep. And he almost fucked it up- almost let the world know who Iron Man really was. But then, Tony let his insecurities get the best of him, and he stuck to the cards, stuck to the script, and the lie that Iron Man was a bodyguard came to life.

Even though Tony complied with the lie, Fury still had to send Natasha Romanoff, as Natalie Rushman, to create a report on Tony. The task was to see if Tony was fit to consult for the Avengers, and after that, Tony would decide if Iron Man would be an Avenger. Even though he was dying, Natasha never figured out that Tony was Iron Man.

She didn't stick lithium dioxide in his neck. Coulson did, which was so much weirder for Tony. 

Even though Tony was dying for a while, he never let his identity slip up. Because if Tony Stark died, he'd die with all the shitty things he did, and if Iron Man never appeared again, he'd be mourned for being a hero. Even in death, Tony needed him and Iron Man to be separate. The armour was a shield, essentially, and Tony couldn't let it fall.

He was an absolute mess: self-destructive, compulsive, narcissistic. Fury almost didn't want Tony, but he needed Iron Man, and Tony refused to help if he wasn't allowed to consult on the side. He had good ideas, resources and money, and SHIELD couldn't deny that just because Tony was a bit messy. 

So even though Iron Man was recommended and Tony Stark wasn't, Fury settled for having Iron Man as an Avenger and Tony as a consultant. Tony almost wanted to reveal his secret identity to the world to be petty, to make himself feel better about how he wasn't wanted as a person. But then the Avengers finally came to life, and it became so much clearer to Tony how important his secret identity was. 

Captain America didn't like Tony Stark, but Iron Man was a formidable ally. He had to keep himself separate from the suit. 

Iron Man saved New York, and he never flipped his faceplate. They went for shawarma, but Tony didn't eat in front of them. These people had saved the world. The Earth's Mightiest Heroes. He couldn't ruin the Avengers by publicising Iron Man's identity. If he had to be careful every step of the way from now on, he would. 

Tony Stark is Iron Man.

No one needed to know that, though.

Tony was really fucking stupid for inviting the Avengers into the Tower. He figured it was a sign from the universe, that the only remaining letter on his tower was an A, so he invited them. And then he immediately realised he was the world's stupidest genius, because that meant he had to keep up the double life inside his home.

He couldn't help but take the Avengers in considering they looked like stray, wounded puppies. Thor had no place to live on this world, Steve, Natasha and Clint were all SHIELD residents and Bruce had essentially been kidnapped from his hideout in India. They were all basically strays, and Tony had a big tower with far too much space.

It seemed like the obvious solution to let them stay. And then they asked him, "Shouldn't you ask your boss about that? It's not your tower."

Tony panicked. "He's got a lot of room, and I keep him alive. I think he'd be okay with me inviting you guys in if I asked."

He should've just told them Mr Stark said no, and then the problem would be solved. But when Iron Man returned to SHIELD the next day, their faces almost seemed hopeful. They liked Iron Man, and they were open to the idea of living with the armoured Avenger, so he said his boss said yes.

He kept digging a deeper hole for himself. 

Tony was the one who welcomed the Avengers into the tower. He was brief with his introduction, and everyone asked where Iron Man was. He decided not to give them the tour as himself, and instead said Iron Man would after he escorted Pepper to SI. Iron Man was there immediately after Tony left.

The Avengers looked happier around Iron Man.

Iron Man toured them, showed them the renovated living areas that Tony designed for the Avengers and then they all sat down for dinner. Whilst they sat and ate, questions arose.

"Is your secret identity your choice, or is it something your boss decided?"

"A bit of both." Iron Man said. "I need to keep my identity a secret to protect myself and the people I care about, so that no one gets hurt because of me. But also because Mr Stark wants me to keep myself a secret. I guess he wants me to be protected too."

"Even around us?" 

"I don't know you guys that well." Or, at all. "But maybe, in the future, if we get closer."

Tony desperately wanted to get close with the Avengers. The problem was, he didn't actually expect to. He thought that he'd be completely fucked hiding his secret identity, ending up in exposing himself like an idiot and losing the team. But he didn't, and instead found himself wearing the armour far too frequently and befriending the team through it.

He thought it was impossible to get close with them because Tony Stark is Iron Man, meaning the unlovable man beneath the titanium-gold alloy suit wouldn't have a second chance just because he was hidden. But surprisingly, the team, and people in general, liked Iron Man. 

Iron Man was completely Tony, and yet people still managed to love the hero and hate the businessman. And somehow, no one figured out the real connection between the two. 

Iron Man spent a lot of nights sparring with the team, or having movie nights. He hated that Steve wanted this to be a regular thing, because it meant Tony had to wear the armour and hope no one realised who was beneath it, and also because it meant he couldn't lock himself away in the workshop. But the weekly team bonding was genuinely fun. 

Iron Man couldn't be part of the team dinners, because he couldn't eat in the suit. So instead, Tony came to team dinners. He wasn't part of the team, just a consultant, but he was still the Avengers' main benefactor, and this was his home. And he had to be a team player even if he wasn't the teammate they fought with.

Even though the team spent dinners with Tony, if he managed to crawl out of the workshop at the right time, it still felt like there was tension between him and the team. He was civil with the team, yes, but there was still an unspoken air of we prefer Iron Man lingering. 

Tony came home after a long night out of talking to boring businessmen and investors at a gala, and all he wanted to do was have a break. He stumbled into the communal kitchen and headed straight for the coffee machine, when he saw the Avengers sitting down at the sofa watching a movie. 

"Is Iron Man with you?" Steve asked. 

"He's been watching over me all night." Tony lied. "I told him to head off to his missus for the night. Probably won't be back at the tower tonight."

"He's got a missus?" Clint raised a brow. "And he never told us?"

"He's not married." Tony began. "I just say missus because he's too stupid to put a ring on his girlfriend's finger." 

"Oh. Well."

Tony turned back to the coffee machine and busied himself with it. He was clearly not the one the team wanted tonight. Maybe he should've lied and said Iron Man would be in soon, and go off to them as their preferred persona. 

But he was tired. And honestly, he could do with a drink.

"Would you like to join us, Stark?" Thor called out.

"Nah. Seems like your movie is finishing right now." Tony looked at the credit scene playing. 

"We're thinking of playing a game." Clint grinned. "Steve won't be able to truly participate, but-"

"Drinking game?" Tony smirked. "Which one?"

"We're thinking, Never Have I Ever. It seems like a good way to get to know each other a little bit." Clint said. "Would've been fun with Iron Man, but I suppose he wouldn't even be able to drink with us anyway. I guess you can be his replacement."

"Second choice?" Tony frowned dramatically, though later on he'd probably dwell on how it actually hurt. "I'd never be a replacement."

"Come on, we know you like a good drink."

Tony couldn't argue with that. "Fine. Let me get something to do shots with. Vodka or tequila?"

"Vodka." Natasha almost smirked. 

Tony returned with a bottle of Grey Goose and sat down in a circle with the team. "Brucie, we're going to work on alcohol that Rogers' metabolism won't burn through later."

"Sounds like a challenge." Bruce couldn't help but smile. "I can't wait."

"I'll be doing shots with you guys regardless." Steve decided. "I wonder if I'll still feel the burn. I haven't drank since.. before."

"Right, I'm starting." Clint had a terrifying grin on his face. "Never have I ever had a one night stand."

"Boring." Tony took his shot. Natasha, Thor, Clint and Bruce drank too. "Ooh, Rogers, you've never had a one night stand?"

"Never really had time." 

"The great Captain America's a virgin?" 

"Shut up." Steve rolled his eyes. "Never have I ever learned an instrument."

"You chose such a mundane question." Tony took his shot regardless.

"You play an instrument?" Bruce seemed interested.

"Yeah. I learned piano when I was younger and then guitar a few years back because I was bored." Tony said blasely.

"Cause you were bored?" Clint was almost impressed. "Damn." 

"Fast learner. Never have I ever jumped out of a plane without a parachute."

Steve blushed out of embarrassment, but drank anyway. "How do you know about that?"

"My dad spoke of your adventures all the time. So did my aunt. She said it was the stupidest thing you've ever done." 

"Your aunt?"

"Peggy." 

"Oh." Steve had a crestfallen look on his face, and Tony felt stupid for talking about her. 

"Never have I ever travelled between realms." Thor cheered and then drank. 

"The point of the game is to not drink, bud."

"Ah."

"Never have I ever had a near-death experience."

The whole team drank. 

"Never have I ever worked in the mafia."

Natasha drank. "Don't ask questions."

"Never have I ever gotten blackout drunk."

Tony was the first to drink. No one shamed him for it, and for a moment, he felt like he belonged.

Tony woke up with a raging hangover, because he ended up being the person who fell into most of the Never Have I Ever categories. But even though his head hurt beyond belief, he didn't resent drinking. He had fun, bonding with the team. He liked feeling wanted as himself, and not Iron Man.

It wouldn't last long.

"Iron Man." 

"Cap." 

"What's it like, working with Stark?" Steve asked. "We, as a team, don't really talk to him much. We want to know how to get to know him better. He's not the easiest to talk to."

Tony didn't know what to think of that. He thought they'd gotten along pretty easily during Never Have I Ever. "Erm, well, he's smart. Pretty quick with fixing up the suit whenever it's damaged. And he's actually quite easy to talk to."

"I suppose it is, for you, since you've known him for a few years. Must've taken a while to get along with him."

"Not that long." Tony said defensively.

"We just want to know him better, so that maybe he'll let you reveal yourself to us. We like you."

"More than Stark?"

"Well, yeah." Steve said casually. "You're our teammate. He's just a consultant."

Tony nodded, glad that the faceplate was stopping him from showing his expression. "Just try to talk to him. Let him rant about his work. That'll probably work."

"Thanks, Iron Man."

Over time, the Avengers did end up getting closer with Tony. Steve heeded Iron Man's words and let Tony ramble about a new update on the suit. The blond listened patiently and Tony felt himself feel closer with the hero. He knew it was stupid, considering this was his own advice that Steve took, so obviously he'd feel closer, but he liked it.

Sooner or later, the whole team had ended up listening to him talk.

He wanted the closeness, the bonding, so badly, that he forgot that the only reason they wanted to be close to him was to know Iron Man's identity. That even though they were the same person, Iron Man was an Avenger, their friend, someone they liked, and Tony was just a consultant.

A year after the team moved into the tower, Tony found himself finally comfortable enough to reveal his identity to the team. He was close with every Avenger, both in and out of the suit. They were a family, and he didn't feel like just a consultant without the suit.

So, he called the team down for a dinner, as Iron Man, and prepared himself to finally tell his team who he really was behind the suit.

"Hey Shellhead." 

"Hey Cap." He smiled, despite the team being unable to see it.

"You cooked?" 

"Figured I should let you guys try my amazing cooking." 

"Isn't that pointless?" Clint asked. "You can't even eat with us. Your boss does instead."

Tony brushed over the your boss comment, ignoring the fact that it should've been our friend, Tony, or anything but your boss. He was more than just Iron Man's boss. "Why, would you rather have him here instead?"

"God, no."

Tony tilted his head slightly. God, no was a strong reaction. He could be a bit much sometimes, but he wasn't that bad, was he? Besides, he'd been bonding with the team for months now. Surely they had to actually like him by now. He wasn't that bad, was he?

"Why not?" 

"Didn't you see him at the gala yesterday?" 

Now Tony had to think, because what was he even doing yesterday? He went to the gala, yes, but what did he do wrong? "I wasn't watching-watching. Just on the sidelines, I guess."

"He was a complete ass to some reporter, and some businessman, and apparently broke his sobriety. He's always going on about how he wants to get sober, and then he decides to fuck it up, like every day. He's nice, yes, but god he's unbearable sometimes."

"Someone spoke about Howard to him." Steve said. "Tony told the person to fuck off and proceeded to go drink." 

Tony wanted to scream. He didn't drink, not once, during the stupid gala. He had a sparkling water in his hand the whole time, just for the feeling of bubbles, but no, he didn't actually drink. And that reporter was being a dick, accusing him of sleeping around with the Avengers. And then the person talking about Howard was just infuriating, so of course, Tony had to tell them to fuck off.

"Howard was a better man than you. He saved the military. You, however, left the military in the dust, and give that Rhodes guy special treatment. What would Howard say? Don't you have any respect for his legacy?"

"I'm sure it's a misunderstanding. Besides, one day is what you're basing your opinion on him off of?" 

"It's not just one day, though." Steve sighed. "He has to stay sober to be part of the team. We all know he's got drinking problems. And sometimes he's just so egotistical and flaunts and shows off, and it's just not tolerable. We try, we really do, but it's hard sometimes, because he's just so.."

"Tony?" 

"Exactly. He's so Tony, and sometimes we can't handle that."

Tony nodded, glad the faceplate could hide his reaction. He thought he was doing good with the Avengers now, but clearly he was absolutely fucking nothing to them. He thought he'd established valuable relationships with them all, but no, he just couldn't win. There was something, always something, that Tony had done wrong, apparently.

"I don't think he shows off." Tony said quietly. 

"The gifts?" Bruce suggested. "I know I'm smart, but sometimes it feels like Tony's just trying to show he's better than all of us with them, both in IQ and wealth. It's just always something new, something expensive, and it leaves us feeling indebted."

"That's his job, isn't it?" Tony tried to defend himself. "Consultant for the Avengers. Meaning he's supposed to provide you with the equipment." 

"It's not just equipment. It's expensive shit we can't compete with." Clint shrugged. "It's fun, yeah, but it really is humbling realising there's nothing we can give back, not just because we can't afford it, but also because what do you give a billionaire?"

"He's not superficial." Tony laughed it off. "Whatever- I was meant to get him to come down and try my cooking, but I guess that's not really ideal, is it?"

"No."

"Alright. I'll go eat with him instead." 

Tony went and plated up two plates of food, before promptly leaving. The moment he got to the workshop, he threw the plates to the ground and screamed as loud as he possibly could. 

He fucking hated himself.

It had been a few weeks since Tony tried to reveal himself, and then ultimately didn't because it would ruin Iron Man for the Avengers. It was pointless now, and he couldn't see how he ever thought it was a good idea. No matter how long he waited, how hard he tried, he couldn't do anything right, could he?

It felt like he was constantly fucking up.

Tony started making excuses to not go to team dinners. Suddenly, his schedule was very busy, conveniently every time it was time for a team dinner. Of course, it wasn't actually, but they didn't need to know that. They probably wouldn't even care if they found out he was just avoiding them.

Of course, he went to one or two to try and not make it obvious that Iron Man had 'told' him what they were saying. He pretended like nothing had changed, but he had stopped giving them gifts and spoke less, specifically about science and engineering. He didn't want Bruce to feel less smart, and the rest of the team to feel stupid. 

Which was really hard. He fucking loved science, and engineering, and gift giving was his love language. But no, he couldn't keep acting the way the team hated him for. The Avengers were the best thing that ever happened to him, and he had to make himself worthy. 

He didn't bother to correct them about that night at the gala either.

At the rare team dinners he attended, it was clearer to see their dislike for him, now that they'd pointed it out. He could see the way Steve looked disappointed whenever he started speaking, and he could see the way Natasha looked at him when he drank from his water. Of course, they still suspected he was drinking.

He'd been sober for six months and he couldn't even tell the team, because they wouldn't believe him. Tony found it ironic that they bonded over a drinking game, but now suddenly him drinking was disgusting. 

As he was 'so busy', he stopped spending time in the labs with Bruce too. He honestly thought that, of all people, Bruce was the one he'd have no problems with. So hearing that Bruce felt less smart around him really put him off, and Tony decided distance was better. He didn't want to hurt his science bro. 

He didn't really want to hurt anyone in the team.

They had no problem with hurting him.

Tony had been prepared to reveal himself for a while now. He came up with scenarios of how it would happened all the time, and he was prepared for each and every one. Unfortunately, he was prepared for it to happen in a good few years, right before he died in battle, so he wouldn't have to hear the backlash of Tony Stark being Iron Man.

That day came far too soon for his liking.

It was a regular night, Doombots casually terrorising Manhattan. For most people around the world, this would be crazy, but for Manhattan it was an average Tuesday. So, people were prepared to find a place to hide, the Avengers were ready to deal with it- nothing new at all.

Except the Doombots were stronger this time, Chitauri tech embedded into the weaponry. After several fights with regular people with Chitauri tech, the Avengers were used to dealing with them. This, however, was a problem, because the Doombots were huge and ten times more dangerous with Chitauri tech.

And, even though Tony would never admit it, seeing giant robots with the tech that plagued his nightmares really threw him off. He was already feeling off around the team because of what they said about him, because he knew that they hated the man underneath the armour, and now this was not helping.

Tony was doing well to hide the overwhelming anxiety, and doing well at stuffing it down during the fight and letting it overwhelm him a thousand times worse when he was in private. He was taking down Doombots and occasionally communicating with the team, but not with his usual jokes. 

And then, holy fuck, there was a massive hole in the ground, and, oh shit, Tony freaked out. It was just the road, just the road, but it looked way too much like the wormhole and there was Chitauri tech everywhere, and the anxiety he tried to supress earlier was back, a million times worse, and fuck, Tony was panicking.

Standing a good hundred feet in the air, Tony froze, his palms getting sweaty, eyes going blurry, heart racing. His breath was coming out short, and he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything but stare at the hole in the ground, the one that looked like the fucking wormhole he flew into. He remembered the cold feeling of being in space, the feeling of dying alone.

He remembered thinking they'd never find his body.

And then, suddenly, something came crashing into him, and he wasn't prepared to keep himself up. His suit went crashing to the ground, into the goddamn hole in the ground, and a Doombot came charging at him. He wasn't prepared for the Chitauri tech to hit him, but it did, and suddenly his abdomen felt hot and cold. 

A part of his suit had gotten torn in the fall, and it was digging into his side, just above his hips, and there was blood filling the suit. He really needed to get up, but his leg was trapped under rubble, and god, he was still panicking. He was definitely still panicking.

The fact that he was in the hole in the ground was not helping. He felt pain all over his body but nothing was as bad as the feeling of unbridled fear in his head, in his heart. He was going to die all alone, cold and in space, where no one would ever find him. And he hadn't done anything to save the world this time, so he'd kill Iron Man's reputation as well.

He could faintly hear someone saying his name over the comms, and someone was coming over to him, but he couldn't focus enough to hear what was actually going on. He just wanted the feeling of sheer terror to go away so he could be useful again, so he could keep fighting.

It was five minutes later that the whole team had surrounded him. It didn't seem like there were any Doombots left, but he wasn't really paying attention to that. He was just trying to stay in the present, and not go into the wormhole in his mind. 

Someone tapped on his faceplate, and there was a humming noise he'd zoned out, which he realised was the team talking. Tony forced himself to open his eyes, and when he tried to pay attention to what they were saying, he realised far too late that this was going to be it- he was going to lose it all.

He hadn't replied in time, and he was hurt, and so, the cold air fell onto his bare face, and eyes were on him. They'd removed his faceplate, and now it wasn't Iron Man, it was Tony Stark, and oh fuck, this was his biggest nightmare. The anxiety felt a lot worse, and he just stared up at the dark sky in silence.