December 15th
Tony never really thought much of that night anymore. He could still remember it, clear as a bright summer day, every single detail etched into his mind like stitches in fabric, but it felt like something from a fever dream. Something that felt so real, but wasn't. This idea was further supported when his dad became even more distant and detached from him, seeming to flee to the lab every time he got close as a young child. He claimed to love him, yet he couldn't even look his own son in the eyes. He could remember hundreds of nights he spent crying in his room, sometimes being comforted but most the time waiting until all the lights were off and the monsters in his mind pounced, telling him how much of a disgrace he was that even his own father didn't love him. He knew his mom, Jarvis, and Ana loved him - they never went without saying it - but he was desperate to win the love of his father, or at least a little praise. A small 'good job' or 'great work' when he built or made an A on his test would have been the best thing he could have imagined back then, but it never came. He got it from everyone else, from Uncle Obie to the maids, but never from his own dad.
As he grew older, this resentment grew with his body. From a little seed of sadness came a tree of hurt, anger, and detachment. If he and his dad had any semblance relationship before, it was gone. An axe chopped away the thin string between them when one too many cold shoulders hit him in his heart, and Tony decided that he didn't need his father's approval. He just wanted some attention from him, and he would get it any way he could. Even if it meant acting out and almost getting himself killed in one dangerous stunt or another, from parties to pranks on teachers with Rhodey. MIT probably only kept him due to his sheer genius, excellent grades, and his dad's reputation and money. Howard's reputation and money. He didn't like calling him dad, even if it was just in his head. What kind of father abandoned their own flesh and blood? Their own son? Fathers were meant to love their children, right? That's what Rhodey and those Father's Day cards always said. Howard wasn't his father. He didn't love him, so Tony didn't love him back.
Except he did. As much as he tried to convince himself that he didn't, he still felt a sharp stab of pain in his heart every time Howard dismissed him with barely a word or grunt. A cold feeling still washed over him every time he was ignored, and flames of rage and sadness bit at his fractured heart when the embers were churned enough for them to argue. Sometimes it was his additude. He could admit that. But there were times when the elder man drove him up the wall until he eventually cracked, basically exploding into a metaphorical ball of anger and bitterness after their combination of harsh sarcasm and quick tempers blazed into an inferno Tony didn't feel like quelling, and neither did his father. Jarvis and Ana tried. His mother tried. He could hear them telling his father to 'go a little easier on him' and 'be less stern.' Tony supposed that was the nice way of telling him he was emotionally stunted around his son. They also told him to try and be a little more understanding of the stress his father was under and be more patient with him.
One big problem was that Tony didn't have patience. Zilch. He couldn't go five seconds standing still without being bored out of his mind and wanting something bizarre to happen, from dinosaurs coming to life to some kind of explosion. He did try to be patient a few times - for the sake of his poor mother and maybe a little bit because he did want his father to talk to him casually. Just a little. He tried it four different times, and each time he either got two worded answers or non committal grunts as his father worked on machines or signed off on paperwork at his desk. The only time they could ever have any semblance of getting along was in the lab where they both had their own space and their own projects. The two of them could stay down there for hours and not speak, lost in their own little worlds. Tony had stopped showing Howard his projects when he was thirteen and he gifted him a robot dog he had made for Father's Day, which was promptly called simple despite the complexity of the coding that the teen had spent a week of sleepless nights developing. He still took it, but Tony had no doubt it was hiding somewhere in a storage bin in the attic, covered in cobwebs and shattered pieces of his heart.
Now seventeen years old, Tony had learned that the only way he could survive living in the same house with his father was to avoid him whenever he could. He never asked questions. Barely ever said good morning to him at breakfast or spoke a word to him at dinner. They were never in the same room for more than a minute. For instance, if Howard was in the livingroom when Tony wanted to watch TV, he would go to a different room. There was only one exception to that rule and that was the lab. It was the one room in the house where he felt even minimal connection to him because they shared the same intelligence. People always said they had other things alike - hair, sarcasm, charm, the list went on and on annoyingly - but that was the only one that didn't make the teen want to grimace.
He had graduated from college last May, two months after his seventeenth birthday. He had received two masters diplomas in engineering and science and a doctorate. He was now working on getting his second doctorate along with a PhD, and he wasn't even a legal adult yet. Part of him doing this was for himself, yes, but it was mostly to get back at his father for all the critical or bored comments he made about him in his younger years. (Tony wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but a little part of him thought that maybe burning himself out in MIT and showing off his intelligence might impress his father. It hadn't worked, which only fueled his desperate frustration to just be noticed.) He was back for Christmas break, but nothing felt cheery like the lights hanging off the giant mansion.
"You gonna be alright, Tones?" Rhodey's voice pulled him out of his reverie and he wondered just how long he's been standing on the edge of the cobblestone path, feeling like every force in the universe was trying to tell him to get away from this lonely house. It wasn't a home unless he was being hugged by the arms of someone who truly loved him. Otherwise, it just felt like a cage and he was screaming, fighting in his mind to get out and run straight back to his dorm room. Or, better yet, Rhodey's house. His slightly elder friend handed him his suitcase from the backseat and Tony took it, hoping that the weight of the brown bag would ground him to the present and away from the haunting memories of his past. They had came here in Rhodey's car, one of the only places he had learned to feel truly safe. They blared rock music all the way, belting out the lyrics way louder than necessary as snowflakes stuck to the outside and everything was covered in powdery white snow. The closer they got here, the less jubilant Tony was, until he eventually could only look out his window and pick at his second Burger King meal of the journey, trying to ignore how Rhodey kept glancing at him with worried eyes every two minutes. He was fine. He was always fine.
His best friend was looking at him with those eyes again, but he knew from experience that saying he was fine would result in Rhodey's particular brand of being a mother hen before dragging him off to see his own mother so she could give him a hug and force him to eat multiple helpings of food and pie- what he wouldn't give to be heading to his house right now. But he also wanted to see his mother, Jarvis, and Ana. They didn't deserve to not see him just because of his strained relationship with his dad. "I'll be okay, Rhodey. Mom really wants to see me and I want to see her. So do Jarvis and Ana. I've really missed them."
Rhodey sighed, moving from where he had briefly leaned up against his beat up Toyota 1975 to put his hand on Tony's shoulder. They didn't exactly have a mushy friendship - it was more... blow things up, don't get caught, and have the best time kind of friendship - but they worked well together emotionally. The first time Tony came back to the dorm after fall break, he was fourteen years old and had a brand new press smile to cover up the hurt and sadness that had been following him for the entirety of the two weeks. Rhodey had seen through it and about drove all the way back to the mansion to "kick Howard's worthless butt into gear" when he learned he was the main reason for it, but Tony talked him down luckily. If he hadn't, there probably would have been a lawsuit and restraining order, meaning he would lose his only friend. He just couldn't have that. He wouldn't be able to survive it. They might not express it much, but when one needed the other to be a little mushy, they were there. That's what Rhodey was doing right now - he could feel it. Rhodey was his anchor outside of a storm right now and he needed him to keep upright for the next few hours. "Alright, Tony, but call me if things get tough, okay?"
"Okay," the teen agreed, voice quieter than he meant it to be, but his friend didn't comment on it. He knew him well. Rhodey pulled him into a surprise hug that he gratefully accepted, giving him more of a squeeze than he usually would and holding on a bit longer than neccessary. He didn't want the moment to end. He didn't want to go inside the mansion of horrors and see his father. He didn't want to feel those sharp pains in his heart every time he was brushed off like an annoying fly for just trying to talk. But moments didn't last forever and soon Rhodey was back in the driver's seat, window down and elbow out as Tony waved at him exaggeratedly. His friend laughed before he revved the engine. "You know you can always come over, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, honey bear, you've said it like a million times," he said, trying to sound annoyed but the smile fighting to form on his face gave him away. Rhodey rolled his eyes at the nickname, but there was a fondness to his eyes that let Tony know he was just joking. "Go before Mrs. Rhodes tears you a new one for being late." That woman was amazing, but she could be terrifying if she needed to be. His friend smirked and slowly started moving, calling out, "I'm gonna tell her you said that! You know she only wants you to call her Mama Rhodes." He held his hand out the window before speeding off the property, leaving vague skid marks on the road right by the cast iron gate that encircled the large estate. Most would have thought it accidental, but Tony knew the truth behind them. Rhodey would do anything to cause Howard just a little inconvenience.
The teen waved after the car, watching it disappear over the hill as the sun reached its midday peak. He waved even after the vehicle disappeared, giving himself enough time to garner back his composure and wipe away the stray tear forming at the edge of his right eye. Here goes nothing, he supposed with a scowl as he turned back to the house and slowly started walking up the familiar path, sneakers crunching against the thin layer of snow. The soft winter wind bit through his blazer and jacket, leaving his cheeks and nose red from cold, but he would rather stay outside for another hour than walk inside, but he knew his mother was waiting. She might even be looking out the window now, watching him move agonizingly slowly toward the mahogany door that he had tried to forget about over the last two and a half months. He finally stood on the cobblestone porch, two columns standing tall beside him. Intimidating structures that were the only thing keeping the stone roof from collapsing on him. After a long minute of debating if he should run to the nearest payphone and call Rhodey, he put his hand on the bronze door knob. He hesitated for brief second, pulled in a shaky breath, and turned the nob. No going back now.
He pushed the door open and was immeadiately met with a wall of delicious aromas. He took a deep breath, a small smile actually gracing his face. That was not the smells of professional cooks, but Ana and Jarvis. His mother told him they were having a welcome home dinner for him (just the family, thankfully), but he had half expected it to be made by the staff. For once, he was glad to be proven wrong. Tony shrugged out of his frosted jacket and hung it up on the hook, hitting his shoes against the rug briefly to knock off some of the clinging snow. No one was in the livingroom, so he put his bag down by the expensive leather couch and made his way into the nearby kitchen. The entire house was full of Christmas decorations, from garland lining the stairwells to shelf ornaments and the thirteen foot tree. It was barren, the green branches stretched out and ready to be decorated. It warmed Tony's heart to know they waited on him.
He moved into the kitchen silently, messing up his hair a little so Ana would have an excuse to brush it into place like she'd done since he was a child. The two were at the counter, husband and wife side by side as the former chopped vegetables and the other seemed to be preparing a neat stack of deviled eggs, just as she did every year. There were four pots on the stove, all simmering with delicious food, and he could see the golden ham baking away in the oven. Neither of them had noticed him yet, Ana humming along to an imaginary tune in her mind and Jarvis moving smoothly in a little dance to it. His mind decided to remind him right then how they were both getting older - Ana's vibrant red hair now entwined with silver and Jarvis's hair was almost completely grey and thinning at the top, wrinkles of age, stress, and happiness present on their faces, and their movements slower and stiffer with every year that went by - and he cherished every Christmas he still had with them. This one was no exception, and he brushed away the dark thoughts from his mind, locking them away in the deep corners to resurface another time.
Tony walked forward slowly and quietly until he was standing behind them, right in between them. He smiled to himself before speaking, poking his head forward between theirs. "Think I can get a bite of any of that?" He asked, glancing at them both. Jarvis dropped his knife out of surprise and Ana knocked over her little castle of eggs, but if they minded, they didn't show it as their faces split into grins as they turned to him in unison, saying, "Tony!" Ana was the first to come back to her senses, as always, and pulled him into a giant hug that was much tighter than anyone expected with her smaller stature, but the teen was very familiar with them. His arms instantly came to wrap around her in a squeeze of his own as she rested her chin on his shoulder for a moment. He's surpassed her in height a year ago, but he still looked up to her like when he was five years old and sitting on the counter, watching her bake cookies.
"I've missed you so much," she said right before pulling away, looking him up and down with her hands on his elbows, a bright smile on her face. "Is it just me or have you gotten taller? You need to stop growing already." He laughed, a cheeky smile forming on his face as he replied, "or maybe you're just getting shorter." She lightly slapped him on the arm with a playful scowl, a smile still present on her lips. "I see you're cheekiness hasn't changed since I last saw you," she said, shaking her head fondly as he continued to laugh. "It never will," he said with a wink before turning to Jarvis, who was looking at them both with a gentle smile.
"Hey J," he greeted right before being pulled into another bear hug that he returned automatically, the comforting feeling of safety and love making him far more relaxed than he had been outside. He thought about making a joke on if he was still keeping Dad in line, but decided against it. Mentioning his father might make things awkward and they didn't need to focus on him. This was about their reunion. Not him. Never him. "Have you been listening to Ana?" He asked instead as he was finally let go. Jarvis chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Of course I have, young sir. She knows how to use a frying pan." Tony snorted out a laugh as he agreed, "yeah, I understand that." Ana rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she went to fix her little tower of eggs.
Tony reached for one and his hand was promptly wacked away lightly. "Hands off, Tony. You can wait until dinner." He thought about reaching for it again, but there was a wooden spoon in her reach. After a second, he had a plan in mind and exaggerated his voice into a whine, "but I'm hungry, Ana. Are you going to let me starve?" He said dramatically, putting a hand over his heart as if he'd been physically wounded by her words. Jarvis tried to muffle his laughter with his hand, eyes crinkling at the corners as an amused smile briefly crossed his wife's face. Tony kept up the act for another minute, eventually taking it to the top level of dramatic and slumping to the floor against the counter, looking up at her with his pleading eyes that almost always got hin what he wanted from anyone - Rhodey called them his "puppy dog eyes," describing them as his "big brown doe eyes." He'd had them since he was a baby and age hadn't stopped them from being effective. He hoped he could play them to his advantage, especially as he slid to lay flat against the ground.
Ana wasn't swayed though. She turned from the counter and crossed her arms with another fond eyeroll, looking down at him with amusement and a tad bit of exasperation. Tony switched gears from lying on the tile floor to sitting on his knees, continuing to look up at her as he dialed up his 'adorable meter' to eleven in hope she would just give him one egg. She didn't budge as she raised her eyebrow, opening her mouth to speak. "I doubt you're starving. You got here with Rhodey, right?" Tony hesitated, then nodded slightly, suddenly getting the feeling like he'd been beat and just didn't know it yet. "I bet you two ate Burger King at least twice on the way over. You better not have spoiled your dinner." She said, voice slightly stern but balanced out by her knowing smile.
He had to think fast to get a foothold again - good thing that was what he was an expert in. He turned his cuteness dial as far as it could go and further, adding in a slight pout lip. He knew it was childish, but give him a break. He would have to face his dad soon and that wouldn't be easy - he deserved an egg. Or some kind of food. "Come on, Ana, pretty please with a cherry on top." Tony clasped his hands together in front of her chest, inching forward on his knees. He doubted he was getting his jeans dirty on the floor because it was way too clean all the time, but his mother certainly wouldn't approve of him ruining another pair, even if it wasn't in a lab incident. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her though, right? Ana shook her head again and again as Tony continued to say please, Jarvis snickering behind her as he started cutting the vegetables again, one eye on what he was doing and the other on them. The teen would have sent him a heat-less glare if it wouldn't have broken his character. Jarvis usually would help him out, but today it was like he was just in for the ride.
An idea struck him, and it was a bit of a low blow, but he could turn almost anything into a joke. Hopefully. "Come on, Ana! It's essential. I need something to eat if I'm going to go see my dad. Food is power!" He exclaimed, dropping the puppy dog expression for a bright, convincing smile that wasn't all fake. Ana's face turned from an unyielding stone of sternness and amusement into one that held obvious inner debate. Even Jarvis had paused, looking torn between amusement and sympathy. Tony hated sympathy, but it was better than pity and his long time friend, basically father figure, knew that. "I solemnly swear I won't tell Mom and will eat my dinner," he put a hand over his heart as he gave her his best smile.
After a few more seconds, Ana finally crumbled with a sigh, dropping her arms and shaking her head. Her smile was still there, though slightly sadder than it had been. "Alright, Tony, one egg, but that is it," she said, wagging her finger at him like a mother to her naughty child. Which that was similar to the relationship they had. He hopped to his feet with more gusto than neccessary, but he hoped it would relieve some of the sadness that had slowly began to seep into ther cheerier atmosphere. It felt like every time Howard was mentioned or in the room, things got tense. Was it just him? He doubted that. His father had that effect on everyone, from business men to his very own family. When he was younger, Jarvis would tell him stories of a different man. A man who could look fear straight in the eye and not cower before it. A man who would fly a plane into battle with a cheesy one liner and always had a friendly, if snarky, remark on his tongue. Where was that man when he was growing up? He sure would like to know.
Mentally shaking away those thoughts, be turned his attention to the deviled egg Ana put in his outstretched hand, practically shoving half of it into his mouth the second he could. Jarvis snorted out a slight laugh behind her as she raised an eyebrow. "Was that neccessary?" She asked, but there was unmistaken amusement in her voice. After he took a bite, he smiled in a way that he knee was both cheeky and sheepish. "Thank you, Ana," he responded instead, hand over his mouth as he finally swallowed the delicious good. She looked like she wanted to tell him off for talking with his mouth full, something he had been taught not to do for his entire life, but she let it go for once, releasing a bemused sigh.
"I'm going to go say hi to Mom. She's probably been waiting for me to get back, hasn't she?" He asked, getting two identical nods from the adults. His mom always was ready for him to get back. She called at least ten times yesterday to make sure he packed everything correctly and this morning to make sure he would get home by dinner. "See you guys in a bit," he said, turning to head out, only to be stopped by Ana pulling him into another hug that he hadn't exactly expected, but loved anyway. She surprised him a second time by whispering, "there may or may not be some cookies waiting for you after dinner." The woman pulled away and he grinned at her, warmth flooding his chest as she smiled back, holding a finger up to her lips. He mimicked zipping his own lips and throwing away the key, getting a near silent giggle from her. With a final wave at Jarvis, he made his way out of the kitchen and down the hall in search of his mother.
He didn't have to look long before he knew where she was. A few feet into the livingroom and he could hear the faint sound of piano music, the slow tempo moving through his ears. He could pick out each note and what key to press in his mind with as much ease as it was for him to state the Fibonacci Sequence due to him being raised on the piano. Tony had spent many nights since he was a baby with his mom at the piano, one of his earliest memories being her singing him a soft lullaby as she played a soft tune on the ivory keys. As soon as he stepped into their music room, those memories came rushing back.
Maria Stark sat at her piano, delicate hands moving over the keys with ease. It was like it weren't the piano producing the music - it was her. She was the angel of music to him. Her hair, which had faded from dark brown to silver, fell in loose ringlets around her shoulders and her pale blue dress was as stunning as ever. He couldn't see her face, but he could imagine her eyes being closed as she mouthed along to her current song: September. It was one of her favorites. Their favorite. It had to have bern the first song her ever heard, a constant recording of it always playing somewhere in his vast mind. He would always have room for that song, holding it above his knowledge and personality. It was more important than knowing how to breathe to him. Just like with Jarvis and Ana, he walked silently up to her from behind, but this wasn't exactly intentional. It was like he was in a trance, drawn to her by the amount of love, power, and grace she radiated.
When he was close enough, he reached around and carefully put his hands on hers as she played the final lines. This time, however, she wasn't surprised like Ana and Jarvis, as if she had known he was coming. They played the final notes together, the lyrics pouring from them at the very same time, voices working in tandom. They weren't the greatest singers, but they were the best pair in the entirety of the universe. At least, to him that were.
[I]There was a
[I]Ba-dee-ya, say, do you remember?
[I]Ba-dee-ya, dancing in September
[I]Ba-dee-ya, never was a cloudy day
[I]There was a
[I]Ba-dee-ya, say, do you remember?
[I]Ba-dee-ya, dancing in September
[I]Ba-dee-ya, golden dreams were shiny days
[I]Ba-dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya
[I]Ba-dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya
[I]Ba-dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya
[I]Ba-dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya
[I]Ba-dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya
[I]Ba-dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya
As the last of the piano lyrics drifted through the air in a slow fade, his mom turned around to look at him. The teen stepped back slightly as she stood, a few inches shorter than him yet so much more vibrant than he was. He saw the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes as she took his face in her hands gently, and he couldn't deny that there was a lump in his throat or that his eyes were burning. He wasn't usually an emotional guy, far from it, but today had just put him through the ringer and he wasn't afraid to get a little misty eyed in front of his mom after having not seen her in months. "Mi tesoro," she said, running her thumb over his cheek. "I've missed you so much." The Itallian nickname struck a cord in him and the stinging in his eyes increased.
"Mama," he said, resting his hands over hers just as he had done at the piano. Just like he did when he was five years old and still learning the sounds of each key, mouthing along to September and just enjoying his life. Why did things have to get so much more complicated with each year that went by? The care free world he once knew, the world so many people used to know, was gone. Sometimes he just wished he could go back in time to when he was just learning Itallian and only stood to Jarvis's waist. "I've missed you, too." She tilted his head down and looked straight into his eyes with a small smile, a little tear straining down her cheek before she wiped it away, taking his hands and holding them between the two gently.
"You've been building a lot lately," she said, tracing his callouses on his once soft hands. He chuckled, fighting back the water that glazed his eyes. "When am I not?" He replied, getting a laugh out of her. "How are things going at college?" She asked, stepping back and pulling them both to the piano bench again. He sat beside her without any prodding, enjoying the time he had with his mother after so long of just long distance phone calls and daydreaming of coming home to the woman who was basically his back bone, his support. Everything was more vivid than even his edict memory could come up with: her vanilla perfume, the lights, the sound of her familiar laughter and the gentle touch of her hands.
"Good," he replied, "I'm acing it. I told Professor Kin he was wrong and..." she raised an eyebrow at him before he finished, effectively shutting him up. "Antonio, you need to be nicer to your teachers, even if they are wrong." Mother and son talked for another thirty minutes, from school to Rhodey to if he had a girlfriend yet. The last one made him fluster, admittedly, and he couldn't help but whine, "moooom," while she giggled at his rather dramatic reaction. Though as the minute hand inched toward the twelve and the aroma of food grew stronger, their conversation came close to an end with his mother's small sigh and sadder eyes as she spoke, "you know you need to go see your father."
Just like that, the good mood vanished, but Tony didn't snap like he usually would. This was his mother and she just wanted him and Howard to get along. All she wanted was a functional family, not the chaotic, tense one that was the exact opposite of the image painted by the press. "I know, but that doesn't mean I want to. I can't talk to him, Mom, not without a shouting match." She squeezed his hands in one of hers, brushing his brunette hair back away from his eyes. He knew what she was going to say before she said it. "Just try, Anthony, please."
After a moment of hesitation, he let out a small puff of air and nodded into her hand. "Okay, I'll try, Mama." The slight brightening of her eyes made the possible cost of this decision fade away. If he could give his mother a little happiness, he would do anything for her. As he stood up, she said, "that's all I ask." He kissed her cheek and left the room, looking over his shoulder back at her while in the doorway. She smiled at him reassuringly and for a second he thought that he could do this. Maybe they could have a peaceful holiday for once. Maybe he and his dad still had a chance to salvage their crumbled relationship.
And what did that thought make him feel?
Hope. For the first time in a long time, he thought he had hope. Real, tangible, strong hope. He didn't know what made today so different than others or why this hope was growing as the seconds ticked by. Maybe there was something in the cards for him this time. Maybe, just maybe, this could all work out. That he could have the relationship he so yearned for since he was a child. That hope didn't waver even as he reached the steps that lead down to the dark depths under the house where the workshop laid, the faint sound of a hammer against metal reaching his ears. This could work. His mother had faith, why shouldn't he?
Tony wished he knew how wrong he was.