Lost to Arcadia

For any outsiders, Carbonell’s Car was nothing more than a garage. One with a great reputation, sure, but nothing more. Yet, for Tony, this place was everything. It was home. One that he built and created for himself, who suited him in every way possible. There was the ground floor where the garage was, with everything the humans needed. There was the 1st floor where a barely used kitchen stood with a never used bedroom. Lastly, there was a trap door in the garage, one that took you underground, in the workshop. 

It was a constant mess, but the wires, the tools would move out of the way of the Wizened. He just had to raise a hand for the place to answer his call. Handing him, guiding him to whatever he needed. And Tony? He would create. Pumping his wyrd into every creation, sometimes giving them life. He had weapons, from a time where he was looking for something that would kill a Fae. He had armour, gadgets that Fury would order from him for his team and soldiers. He had creatures made of iron, wire and cameras that would seek him as a child would their father. 

Tony would create, eat and sleep amidst this place. A nest of wires and metals, that soothed him at every nightmare. If Fury had the garden under his spell, he had his workshop and no one could ever harm him in here.

Tony was currently in his workplace, shoving away for the tenth time a metallic claw holding an orange out of his face. Cursing the wired up creation who seemed pretty worried about his health even though he couldn’t possibly understand anything about it. 

“No Dum-E. Not now, it’s only…” he checked the clock and glared at the 2.30 AM, which was sweetly reminding him of his terrible sleep schedule. “It’s not the time and Daddy’s working.”

Dum-E gave a high-pitched beeeb, disagreeing completely with his father’s statement. Waving the fruit in its claw and holding it a bit too tightly to make a point. 

“Okay, now drop the orange. Stop squeezing it.” Tony ordered calmly, eyeing the drips that were raining on the ground. Thank God it wasn’t over some blueprints or cables. He would have to ground Dum-E and grounding the bot was like grounding a puppy. No one likes grounding a puppy. The bot ended up putting the fruit in a glass and sliding it next to the changeling before going to sulk in its charging station. Leaving the Wizened to concentrate fully on his battle plan.

What kind of battle plan you may think? Well, not for the prosthesis he definitely should be working on, since he agreed to it, but on his soon-to-be return to Arcadia.

No changeling would want to go to Arcadia. But Tony couldn’t just walk around living his life, when James, the man who helped him run away from the Blacksmith, was still stuck back there. And it took some time to come up with this decision: he waited for the day Fury would come to announce to him that James had found his way out, but… Luck seemed to ignore his friend’s needs. 

What could he use in Arcadia to survive? First of all, food. Eating anything in the fae world was probably the stupidest move. Probably would pack some alcohol or coffee to give him some strength and sanity for the trip. Tony took out a pen and started to note everything down. As the list took form, he let his gaze turn to an abandoned blueprint. Carefully he picked it up. After a moment he stapled it to his list of things to have, and do, for his trip. A part of him was excited, the other was terrified of the prospect.

Was he really ready to go on such a suicide mission? The chances of him coming back will be very little. Who would want wanted to risk his life like this? The worst thing that could happen in Arcadia wasn't even dying. Will he be brave enough?

Tony looked up at the ceiling and close his eyes with a sigh. He was not there yet. He hasn’t been shown the gateway yet. He had time to prepare. There was no going back: he made a promise and he will fulfil it, no matter the price to pay. With that thought, Tony let himself fall into slumber.

He shouldn’t have fallen into slumber, now he’s late. Well, he’s always late but he tries not to be. He had slept through the whole morning and only woke up in the middle of the afternoon when Dum-E dumped the squashed orange on his head. Tony still didn’t eat the orange so he’ll have a sulking bot when he’ll come home. 

He looked at his phone and cursed at the time for the fifth time. The meet-up was not a professional one but nonetheless important. In a desperate attempt to catch up with time he started to run. In the middle of a busy New York street which was obviously a foolish and poor thought idea. As he tried to keep up the pace without bumping into other people, he ended up nearly knocking over a poor woman. He narrowly grabbed her by the shoulders before she could meet the ground.

“Fuck, sorry about that! Are you okay? Probably not, I kinda crashed into you…” he ended in an embarrassed mumble. 

He backed off when the woman pushed back her red hair, mouth open and probably ready to yell at him for not paying attention. The changeling raised his hands as if he could protect himself from the soon-to-be wrath but nothing came.

She had stopped herself and was staring at him wide-eyed. Tony raised an eyebrow at her, did he had dried toothpaste on his face? Shit, maybe he did, he didn’t really look at himself when he cleaned himself up this mor-afternoon. He tried to discretly wipe his mouth and offered a charming smile.

“Charmed are we?” flirting, the solution to distract and take control of the conversation. “I must say I’m flattered-

“Sorry, I took you for someone else.” gone was her anger, she was studying his face and probably trying to put a name on him. Had Tony been thinking, he would have recalled that he had been a public figure in his young years but… He was a sucker for a pretty face.

“Carbonnel, Tony Carbonnel. Mechanic and engenr extraordinaire.” He made a little bow

“A pleasure, Virgina Potts.” she answered back with an amused smile. “I’m sorry I’m stared at you like that, you’re just so familiar. 

“Believe me, I would remember such a sweet pepper like you.” he joked while admiring the lovely redhead. 

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say because she seemed to paled at those words. As if she just saw a ghost. Suddenly all the laughter left Tony too and reality crashed back him. When he got taken away, many things had changed. His face got wrinkles, his hair turned to salt-pepper. But, even if no one had seen him grow old, if you looked carefully it would be hard to deny-

Tony forced himself to keep his smile on and offered a rushed goodbye before walking off into the crowd, disappearing from their sight. Hopefully, she would just see it as a weird encounter. Please, please let her forget me. He didn’t look back, still feeling her sharp eyes on him.

Finally, a few minutes after that unlucky encounter, Carbonnel arrived at the retirement home. It was a pretty, and expensive, place. Not everyone could afford it but Tony was glad his friend could. Every resident had a good large room with little balconies where they could take the sun, or hang some flowers to make it more lively. Plus, it wasn’t too far from a large garden so the visitors and families could take them out without tiring them too much. The wizened walked inside waving a the secretary who smiled in return. They all knew him around here. Every week, Tony would visit. Since he was such a regular, he would sometimes bring some doughnuts for the hardworking staff. 

“Hey Tony, you’re late again.” she teased, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“When was I ever on time Lily?” he shrugged casually. “And if ever I am, it’s probably because the world is ending. That’s the only valid reason.” 

That made her laugh and he winked at her before going down the corridors, going to meet a very old friend. He stopped in front of the door and took in a deep breath. Relax. Put on a smile. Raise your hand.

He knocked softly on the door and waited for the “Come in” before entering the room.  

“Hey Jarvis.” Tony said weakly.

The old man raised his head from his book. A kind smile spreading on his lips. He didn’t get up to welcome the newcomer. His frail and thin body resting softly in his armchair. Tony wondered if his friend had gotten thinner since the last time. He hoped it was just paranoïa but the doubt was here and couldn’t leave him in peace. 

“Mister Carbonnel! How nice of you to visit.”

The changeling moved slowly around the room. It never changed in between Tony’s visits. Edwin being too old to stand on his feet without tripping, the once-human saw it as his job to give more life to the place when he could. 

“Now, now, how many times did I tell you to call me Anthony or at least Tony.”

A flash of pain crossed the man’s face before it disappeared in the following second. Tony, of course, noticed the flicker of expression. Even then, he still wished he would call him Anthony though. Just as if he was just a kid again, being scolded for running away from his parents and lessons. Jarvis was the only one who could find him when he hid. 

“Well, one more time it seems Tony.”

Tony walked inside, giving a quick look at the many pictures on the shelf, on the wall. Years of memories surrounding the old man, probably giving him comfort in his old age.

“So tell me, how’s your garage doing?

“Pretty well. I do have a new big contract so I’m pretty happy about it. Dum-E had a little upgrade, I will soon be able to bring him to meet you. If Lily lets me. The pet rule doesn’t apply to bots, right?

“Oh, I’m pretty sure Lily will let you do anything.” Edwin chuckled. “Just keep it up with those terribly greasy doughnuts.

“They wouldn’t be cheap and greasy if you give me your recipe. Then no one would suffer!

“Never.” the old man narrowed his eyes playfully at him. “But I made some this morning, so if you go to the fridge you may have one.”

Tony rubbed his hands together as he went to the table to pick one. Biting into it and groaning exaggeratedly into the pastry. No matter how many years had passed, Jarvis never changed his recipe and it tasted the same as when Tony was just a kid. As that thought flitted through his head, the changeling gaze sadly at the pictures on the wall. 

There were many of Ana, Jarvis’s wife. A few of Howard and Maria Stark, Tony’s parents. and of course, Tony could see his own eyes staring back at him from behind the many glass frames. When he was a child when he was a teenager. That’s it. The changeling tried to ignore the fact that he didn’t get to age as normal people do. 

Anthony Stark. The boy I once took cared of. He was a genius. So bright and kind, even if he didn’t believe it himself.  Jarvis once said to him. The man had had a smile on his lips while talking about him but his eyes had turned glassy. Still, he didn’t cry in front of Tony. It had been the first time he was actually talking about the past, it was already so much. Tony had felt like choking but held himself through that conversation. He couldn’t even tell him to stop. Stop talking about him. Not when Edwin was opening to a friend, he had to bear it.

I took quite a bad turn, mentally, after he was gone. Sometimes I feel like I failed him. I wasn’t there to protect him when it mattered but you learn to live it. It’s horrible but I know he’s in Heaven now and it does help. Not many people truly understood him, that’s why I’m hanging on in there, with my old bones. So I can still talk about him and about how much he was a gift.

The changeling looked softly at Jarvis who munched on his own doughnut, commenting about Lily and how Tony should ask her out. It wasn’t much but he had this. All that he could be: a kind stranger to an old man. He couldn’t say how much it warmed his heart that Jarvis still cared so much for him, even after he disappeared. On bad days, Tony wanted to scream that it was him, Anthony. That he came back, that he was going to take care of him, that he’ll never leave again. But wasn’t it just another lie? If he found the gateway, go through it to look for James, there is no way of telling if he would ever come back. And Jarvis will never believe him anyway. He’ll never be able to go to the Stark Manor. Never be able to live up to his father’s legacy. Never will be able to laugh and talk about his childhood with Jarvis.

“Tony, why are you crying?

“What?” he whipped his eyes quickly. “Sorry, sorry, I’m pretty tired today. Science doesn’t sleep. Most of the time.” he laughed loudly while shrugging off the tears as not important.

The old man looked worried but didn’t push and just squeezed softly Tony’s shoulder. He probably thought that it was stress or whatever humans worried about those days. They continued to eat and chat about the weather, the week, Tony’s client. Settling into a comfortable feeling. Inside those walls, Jarvis and Tony could be friends. Even if there were too many secrets between them. 

At least, they weren’t alone. 

~Back then ~

The changeling that had found the wizened was losing his patience. It was easy to see, in the glare and the clenched jaw. He was a part beast, Anthony noticed, scales running down his neck and fangs poking out of his lips -was that venom dripping or drool? Anthony didn’t catch his name and he didn’t care. He learned what was important and just wanted to go back to his house. Back to Jarvis. Even if a few years have passed since his “disappearance”, he must still be around. He must be. He had to be.

“I don’t see why I cannot go home. Actually, I don’t get why I’m still debating this with you. So be a pal and leave me-”

“Listen to me very carefully. You don’t exist anymore.” spat the snake-man. “Tony Stark? The one the world remembers? He committed suicide in his lab two years after his parent’s death. Stark industries have been in Obadiah Stane’s hands for the last ten years.”

Anthony froze. An ache blooming in his heart, seeping through his chest like poison. Dead. But that wasn’t possible. 

He didn't die. Fae were strong but even them couldn't rule over death. So people couldn't think of him dead. No. They couldn't.

“No. No, no, no. you’re lying, I’m here! I’m alive I-”  he tried to put some distance with him and this horrible, fucking,  liar. “I remember my parents' funeral. It was only a few days before the blacksm- before They took me! I- How the fuck did I die two years later if I WASN’T THERE ?!” he yelled, his voice hoarse. 

Finally, some sympathy showed on the face of the older changeling. He lowered his eyes and told him very softly. 

“ When they took you, they put a fake instead. Do you understand? They made a perfect copy with all of our memories and... With that, They can make sure no one ever notices what they are doing to us.” he gulped, a similar pain reflecting on his face. “I’m sorry for your loss. But that’s why they send me here. The court will help find a home, help you find a job and a new identity but going back to your past life it’s… It’s not an option, never was..”

Twelve years. Taken and the world didn’t know. They never looked for him, never wondered where he had disappeared because an impostor took care of being him. 

Anthony Edward Stark had waited so long to come home. But back in his world, no one was waiting for him. 

Tony was glad Barnes’s appointment was a couple of days after him visiting Jarvis. It was painful to put on a brave face when you felt wrecked inside. He should probably stop seeing the old butler. This was just hurting him and reminding him of everything he had lost but at the same time, he couldn’t. It was all he had left. Or, really, the one person Tony couldn’t stand letting go. As he went home to his workshop he lay heavily on his seat. Gazing off into the distance, he felt his energy seeping out of his limbs. Emotionally exhausted he didn’t try to fight his eyes when they closed. He just hoped he wasn’t going to have any nightmares. Just this time, he hoped his brain will have mercy and let him sleep through the afternoon and night. The mechanical claw of Dum’E moved out of the mess of metals and wires on the ground and went to stroke softly the changeling’s face as he slept. It pulled a blanket over his creator’s body before going back to hide in the shadows of the room. The wizened shuffled in his sleep and pulled the cover closely around him as the workshop hummed softly for him, light dimming down