Chapter 2
Tony sat on the floor of his room, Howling Commando toys spewed around him. He knew how mad Howard would get if he found out he had these toys, but sometimes he needed a break from building, or thinking. The Captain America toy in his hands had fierce expression on his face, as if he was fighting the enemy right now. Sometimes, Tony imagined that Captain America would save Tony from Howard when the older man got angry, but that kind of wishful thinking was for babies who couldn't think for themselves. Tony was not a baby, no matter what Howard said, the few times he talked to Tony that is.
The sound of the door creaking open caused Tony to take a sharp intake of breath, glancing at the door before shoving his toys under the bed. Noticing how suspicious he looked he quickly stood. Howard entered the room, all power and no sympathy for his own child.
The older man pointed at the boy with one calloused finger. “Have you been working on your engine?”
Tony crossed his arms in a defensive gesture before answering. “I-I got stuck, with the-um, camshaft?” The small boy took a step back at the heinous look on Howard's face. “I swear! I was trying really hard, it's just, it-it didn't fit! Please Da-Howard believe me, I tried-” The boy was cut off by a slap, whirlwind of emotions and thoughts flashing into the boy's mind.
Howard's disappointment in having such a failure of a child, his disgust that this thing was something he made. The audacity of that child. No Stark would act like a baby, he should be building an engine, doing something useful, for once.
A shattered look crossed Tony's face as he looked up at his father. Howard pinched his nose as he looked at his child, trying to understand how he made such a godforsaken child.
“You're a waste.” Howard looked down at the minor. “I wish you had never been born.” And with that, Howard turned on his heel and walked out of the room, only to be grabbed by a tiny hand.
How dare that child touch him, he didn't deserve his attention, much less the things he has provided for the boy. What a disappointment.
Shaking off the child, Howard turned away, only to be stopped by the voice of his son. “Dad!”
Howard looked at the child, a scowl on his face and fury in his eyes. “You have no right to address me.”
The not yet eight year old looked up at the imposing power figure in front of him. By all rights the child should be afraid, but Tony showed no weakness except for the slight shake of his hands. “I'm sorry I'm a disappointment. I know you wanted something more and I'm sorry! Sorry! That I couldn't have been something else, something better. I'll try harder, I swear.”
Howard turned on his heel to leave the room, before stopping. “You can never impress me.” And then with that stalked out, leaving a depressed child on the floor of his own room.