The Freakout
Rhodey had seen a lot of crazy things in his life.
This was new.
The results had just been delivered, stamped with official Stark Industries authentication.
Now Rhodey was staring at a 99.99% match between Tony Stark and Harry Evans.
Rhodey’s brain short-circuited.
“...Oh, shit.”
He snatched the folder off the desk and sat down.
Then stood back up.
Then sat down again.
“…Nope. Not dealing with this alone.”
He pulled out his phone and called Happy.
Happy was mid-coffee when his phone rang.
He checked the ID. Rhodey.
He sighed. “This better not be another Avengers-level disaster.”
He answered. “What?”
Rhodey’s voice was tense. “Get to Stark Tower. Now.”
Happy frowned. “Why?”
“I have an emergency.”
Happy groaned. “Unless it involves Tony doing something monumentally stupid, I don’t—”
“This is worse.”
Happy paused.
“…Worse than Tony?”
Happy swore.
Then grabbed his keys. “I’ll be there in ten."
By the time Happy stormed into the lab, Rhodey was pacing.
“Alright,” Happy said. “Start from the beginning.”
Rhodey threw the results at him.
Happy grabbed them and scanned the page.
He froze.
Because there, in official black-and-white print—
Tony Stark: 99.99% DNA match to Sample.
Happy sat down immediately.
“…Oh, we’re screwed.”
Rhodey nodded. “Yep.”
Happy stared at the paper.
Then back at Rhodey.
Then back at the paper.
Then—
"Tony—”
“—has a son.”
They both froze.
Then Happy winced.
“Oh, he’s gonna lose his mind.”
He sighed. “Alright. So where’s the kid?”
Rhodey ran a hand through his hair. “He left.”
Happy blinked. “He what?!”
“Yeah,” Rhodey muttered. “Said he had to get back to work. He was supposed to come back after.”
Happy narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Work?”
Rhodey nodded. “That’s what he said.”
Happy exhaled. “How old is he again?”
“…Sixteen.”
Happy’s eye twitched. “A sixteen-year-old working?”
Rhodey shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, man. He said he’s a consultantin law enforcement .”
Happy rubbed his face. “Jesus.”
Rhodey collapsed into a chair.
“This is bad,” he muttered.
“Understatement of the year,” Happy shot back.
Rhodey dragged a hand down his face. “That’s not even the worst part.”
Happy blinked. “How is that not the worst part?!”
Rhodey exhaled.
“The kid brought a baby with him.”
Happy’s entire body stiffened.
“…What.”
Rhodey nodded grimly. “He had a kid with him.”
Happy stared.
Then—
"His brother?"
Rhodey shook his head "no ...his baby, looks like him too"
“Tony has a grandkid?!”
Rhodey groaned. “That’s what I’m saying!”
Happy’s hands went to his head. “We—he—he doesn’t even know he has a son! Now he’s a grandfather?!”
Rhodey rubbed his temples. “I know.”
Happy stared at Rhodey.
Rhodey stared at Happy.
Happy threw his arms up. “ All we can do is now wait and see when the kid comes back and tell Tony.”
(If he comes back)
Rhodey just collapsed into a chair.
“…Yeah.”
(Tony Stark was a father and a grandfather.
And he had no idea.)
Rhodey and Happy decided to wait for the kid but no matter how long they waited he didn't come back.
(Harry at this time was kicking open Peter's door after the call of help from May and honestly forgot about the test)
Tony Stark was having a normal day.
(Well as normal as a day can be when you almost get a heart attack from a reckless spiderling and had to take his suit in hopes that he gives up being spiderman and atleast have a semi-normal life or I want him to realise that unlike me he's better and doesn't a need a suit to be a hero. Parenting mentoring is hard)
Then Rhodey and Happy stormed into his lab like they was on fire.
And Tony—who had just taken a sip of coffee—choked.
(coffee-oh my dear coffee where would I be without you)
Because the first thing Rhodey said was—
“You have a kid.”
(Tony felt his not so normal day get worse and gets a very very bad feeling)
Tony coughed violently.
“What—?!”
Happy dropped a file onto the table.
“Scratch that. You have a kid and a grandkid.”
“Oh, good one,” he said, smirking. “Alright, which one of you had the bad dream, and which one’s here for moral support?”
Rhodey and Happy said nothing and stared.
Then, carefully, he put his coffee down.
He folded his hands.
And in the calmest voice possible, he asked—
“Are you both high?”
Rhodey shoved the file toward him. “Just read it.”
Tony grabbed it.
(Tony suddenly felt his body not co-operating-no it's not from being old)
He slowly flipped it open.
And immediately froze.
Because there, in official black-and-white print—
Subject A: Tony Stark
Subject B: Harry Evans
Result: 99.99% match
Tony’s brain short-circuited.
“…What.”
Happy sighed. “That’s what we said.”
Tony flipped through the papers wildly.
“No, no, no, hold on—this is a joke, right? A prank? Am I getting Punk’d?”
Rhodey crossed his arms. “Afraid not.”
Tony stared at them.
Then—
He let out a hysterical laugh .
Because that was all he could do.
Tony let out a hysterical laugh.
“Oh, great! No, this is fine! It’s not like I just confiscated Peter’s suit and now suddenly found out I have kids!”
He threw his arms in the air.
“I mean, wow! Look at me! One minute, I’m scolding a teenager—next minute, I’m somebody’s father—!”
"-and a grandfather apparently because being being is a father isn't enough. I'm too young to be a grandfather!!"
“…I need a drink!! I'm not sober enough for this conversation but I can't, who the the hell who drink when they found out that they have a kid somewhere out there!!.”
(He's not Harward)
Rhodey and Happy exchanged a look.
“…He’s spiraling,” Rhodey muttered.
Happy sighed. “Yeah, let’s give him a sec.”
Tony kept ranting.
“How old is he ?”
“…Sixteen.”
"He's a teenager a kid"
“ Where the hell is He?!”.
Rhodey sighed "he left".
"He left???!!!"
Rhodey nodded.
Tony’s throat felt tight.
“You mean to tell me,” he said slowly, voice tight, “that my own son showed up, took a test, and then just… walked away?…He didn’t even wait for the results?”
“No.”
Rhodey muttered. “Said he had to get back to work. He was supposed to come back after.”
"But he didn't come back"
"Yeah" Happy put his face in his palms.
Tony swallowed hard.
(This wasn’t just about the shock.
It wasn’t about the grandkid revelation or the lack of records.
It was about the fact that his son—his own kid—had come and gone.
Like it didn’t even matter. Like Tony Stark was nothing more than a footnote in his life)
His chest ached.
He let out a shaky breath.
“I need to find him.”
(Because can someone have the irrational urge to know everything about a person so bad when they just exist. Because this was his son -and grandson though he is not touching that yet- he wants to know, who are his parents, what is he doing, how old is he, what does he like, does he like science?)
“Okay. First question.” He pointed at the file. “Who the hell is Harry Evans?”
“We don’t know.”
Tony stared.
“…Come again?”
Happy sighed. “We tried looking him up. We got nothing.”
Tony froze.
Then narrowed his eyes.
“Define ‘nothing.’”
Rhodey gestured toward the screen. “See for yourself.”
Tony hacked through databases at record speed.
Birth records. School files. Medical history.
He scoured every government system he had access to.
And what did he find?
Nothing.
Or rather—
Name: Harry Evans.
Education: Edinburgh Academy for the Exceptionally Gifted.
Occupation: Consultant for US Law enforcement (classified).
Citizenship: Dual British-American.
Miscellaneous: Professional field medic, private law qualification, brief records of working with MI6 (classified), diplomatic Immunity in America.
And that was it.
No baby photos.
No social media.
No medical history beyond basic vaccinations.
Everything else?
Completely locked down.
Tony’s eye twitched.
He turned slowly toward Rhodey and Happy.
“You mean to tell me,” he said, voice dangerously calm, “that my own son has better security than the Pentagon? Why the hell does he have diplomatic immunity?!!”
(Harry: you see magic is a funny thing)
"Who the hell is my son??!!"
(Harry: I'm a human, just a bit special)
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.