Epilogue
Avoidance was Tony Stark’s favourite tactic when it came to skirting around the topic of his very long list of problems. His second favourite was redirecting a conversation. This always worked for him, from a very young age but, now, it wasn’t. And it was driving him crazy.
Every time he walked into a room, everyone would stiffen and walk over to him. They’d try and speak about his past, eyes wide and waiting. Except Natasha, who would keep the same distance from him like they were used to. He liked that.
Tony would, instead, ask about their day and get them talking about their past. However, they were starting to catch on. They wouldn’t let him divert the conversation and they’d talk at him until he ran away.
It wasn’t good.
Tony Stark sat down on his bed, leaning over with his head in his hands. He swore underneath his breath, feeling overwhelmed. An entire week of people asking him if he’s okay. God, he hadn’t felt this stressed in a while.
“I apologise, Stark,” A voice said, making Tony jump out of his skin. He looked over and Loki was there, stood by the wooden frame of his king-sized bed. “I sincerely want to say sorry for what I did to you.”
Tony looked up, sighed, and took a deep breath. He lifted himself up from bed, put a hand onto Loki’s upper arm, and stared outside of the window with a frown. “It’s okay, man, you were just doing what you thought was right. I appreciate it.”
“Yet, I failed. They might try and speak with you, but you are not ready,” Loki replied, standing beside Tony. He raised his palm, a little hologram forming from it. It showed Peter sat downstairs with Rhodey, both of them baking something. “You should spend time with them, however. I can feel that the teenager misses you, like the rest of them do.”
Tony looked at Loki, offering him a small smile. “Thank you, Loki. I mean it. I’ve been wanting to talk about it for a while, and you just gave me that extra push,” Tony admitted, “But... ask next time,” he added.
“Yes, I shall do that,” Loki chuckled, “You’re welcome, Stark,” he said, before clicking his fingers and disappearing into the air.
Weird man, or God, Tony thought as he walked down the steps to go and see his friends. Perhaps the word ‘misunderstood’ fit this man, because he was just trying to help out... in his own messed up little way (Tony would’ve just preferred therapy, if he was honest. Being forced back into a toddler wasn’t the best scheme to get over years of child abuse. But, hey, each to their own).
Tony walked over to Peter, putting his hand on the kid’s shoulder. Peter jumped, but turned and grinned when he saw who it was. He had flour all over his face, but it just made him look even more charming (and Tony definitely noticed how the kid had styled the flour to look like his goatee, but he didn’t think to mention that part).
“Mr Stark!” Peter announced, bringing him into another hug. He did that a lot these days. “Rhodey and I are making cookies! Do you wanna join in?”
“I would, kid, but I’ve got to talk to the team,” Tony said, wiping a bit of grub out of the kid’s hair. He turned to Rhodey, who looked equally as messy. “I’d like to still have a kitchen when I get back.”
A look of realisation came over Peter’s face, “Oh!” He exclaimed, “Well, I’ll definitely save you some cookies.... maybe. I do have a high metabolism, after all, so you can’t blame me if I eat yours!”
“Hmmm, I better have at least one cookie from you two... or I’ll add even more security protocols to that suit of yours, Parker. And, Rhodes, I’ll hack your suit and put annoying protocols all over it,” Tony threatened, before winking. And as he left the room, listening to his two favourite people laughing, he smiled to himself. This was the day.
“Hey, J?” Tony said, looking up at the ceiling. “Call the team into the living room, would you? Tell them ‘Tony’s about to spill the beans,” Tony said, grabbing an open beer with his left hand as he slumped down onto his sofa. He took a sip, looking at the door. They’d be here soon. “Steven!” Tony announced, when a sweaty looking Steve Rogers bounced through the door with urgency.
“I’d rather you not call this serious topic ‘spilling the beans,’” Steve sighed, taking his spot next to Tony. He had a present, or something, in his hands, which was really confusing to Tony. He put that thought to the side of his head for a while.
“No, I think I’ll definitely continue to call it that,” Tony replied, a shy smirk on his face. Was it okay for him to joke around with them all still? Now that they know Howard beat him... “So, uh-,”
“No starting without us!” Natasha said, coming into the room at the same time as Clint. Bruce and Thor quickly followed, all sitting sporadically across the sofas.
Tony gulped, looking around at his teammates. He looked down to his lap, fiddling with the edge of the blanket Steve had draped over him. He took a look at Natasha, who had her little Spider robot in her pocket, and accepted that he needed to do this.
“Okay, so,” Tony started, “As you know, uh, Howard hit me. A lot.” And he couldn’t stop himself from wincing as the group flinched at his statement. “It doesn’t make me any less of a person. I don’t want you to think of me any differently... because then he’s won.”
“I’d never,” Clint said, too quickly. Tony looked into his eyes and there was a look they shared. One of familiarity, of understanding, and suddenly Tony realised that it isn’t just him. “My dad, he- well, he did the same, man. Nat knows, but- nobody else did. I just want you to know that, yeah, of course it doesn’t make you different... but, it does mean that you need to talk to us. You can’t just lock yourself away in the lab, because I can’t deal with not knowing you’re okay.”
Tony sighed. He got it, of course. He would like to know if anything was troubling his teammates, but he couldn’t just magically open up like all of his coping mechanisms didn’t exist. He couldn’t just walk up to Natasha and say ’hey, sometimes I get flashbacks when we spar, because you hit hard and it reminds me of how my dad hurt me,’. It just wasn’t something he did.
“You don’t have to physically say it, Tony,” Natasha added to the conversation, recognising his look. “Just make sure you’re not alone. Sit in the kitchen where we can see you, or tell Jarvis to let us know you’re safe.”
“It’s nice to know you all care,” Tony quipped, as it was his only way to hide from people being nice to him.
Steve’s jaw tightened. He put a hand on Tony’s knee, giving Tony a sad look when he looked up. “Of course we care, Tony. We all love you. I just wish I could’ve been around when you were growing up...,”
“You would’ve been the coolest Uncle, Steve-o,” Tony replied. He looked around, deciding that he probably did need to be a bit more serious. “But, um, thank you guys. I mean it. I- well, I’ve never felt like I had a... f-family. But... that’s what you are to me. We’re one big, dysfunctional, family.”
When most of them left, Steve made sure that Tony saw the gift on the coffee table. Tony waited for Steve to leave before he opened it.
Wrapped in gold and red paper, Steve had enlisted Dr Banner and Dr Parker (the kid wasn’t quite a Dr yet, but he also gave Steve the best smile when he called him that. So, he did. All the time) for the design of the century. Sure, Tony had more robots than he knew what to do with. But, this one? It was shaped like young Tony had made it, similar to all the ones he made in his toddler form.
It was a little man with a golden halo on his head. He had wings that stretched out quite far and, if you looked close enough, it had a little goatee painted on its small chin. Written on the car that accompanied the gift, it said his name was ‘Tony Stark, a hero among men’.
The team had signed it, all writing personalised messages with how much he meant to them. They all got to him, making him tear up in the middle of his living room.
“Mr America helped make that, Mr Stark,” Peter said, shoving a cookie into his hand. “One cookie, as promised.”
Tony sniffed, trying to hide his emotions by chewing obnoxiously through the delicious treat. Peter saw right through it, however, and smiled at him.
“I’m glad you like it, Mr Stark,” Peter smiled, “Because it’s true. You’re the best man I know, Tony. I love you.”
“Ah, right back at you,” Tony whispered, bringing the kid into a side hug. He kissed the side of his head, “For the first time in a while, kiddo, I almost believe you.”
They just smiled at each other, laughing when Rhodey walked in with their first batch of cookies all over him. ”Someone got too excited,”, Peter had muttered in between the giggling. Rhodey took it gracefully, by spreading some of the excess ingredients over Tony’s face.
“Jokes on you, I love the stuff,” Tony winked, taking it in his hand. He licked it off, dramatically. Rhodey, however, didn’t look surprised. He just looked at him, his face full of admiration.
“I know you do, man,” Rhodey winked back. Because why else would they make a batch of cookies at 8am in the morning? It was all for his best friend.
Life started to get good for Tony Stark. Funnily enough, he owed it all to Loki (the same God that tried to take over New York and, subsequently, the earth).
Whenever Tony saw Howard, in his nightmares or his flashbacks, he’s always got someone behind his back to distract him in a healthy way.
Peter and Steve were the best at taking his mind away (he was a bit confused about Steve, but he knew Peter would be).
Peter would just be.. Peter. He’d ramble about his latest adventures, tangling himself into Tony’s grip like a touch-starved koala bear. He’d make Tony play with his hair, liking it just as much as Tony did. They’d then go and play some video games, before taking a drive back to the Parker’s apartment. When Tony would return home, he’d forget why he was even upset.
Steve, on the other hand, was more... direct. He’d speak about wanting to sock Howard around the head, groaning endlessly about how he never got the chance to do so. Then, after a while, Steve would just sit and speak about his past and he’d tell Tony stories of his elusive Aunt Peggy and how much of a badass she really was. He’d gift Tony a drawing, because he always had something to give. He was a great man, and sometimes it would make Tony ashamed that he ever felt scared of him.
Thor visited them a month after Tony was back to normal, Loki in tow. He had brought him down with the intent to apologise, but Tony dismissed it. They had all expected the ‘man of Iron’ to attack, but all he did was bring Loki into a short hug.
“Thank you,” Tony whispered, low enough that only those gifted with super-hearing could hear (and they did). “Never thought I’d be saying this, but you-you saw me. You noticed I was struggling and you wanted to help. I really appreciate it, Loki. But.. don’t ask me to say any of this again. Because I can’t reiterate it enough... one time thing.”
Loki’s smile had never been that wide, Thor thought to himself. He looked.. proud of himself. When he saw the look of pride in his eyes, it made him weirdly emotional. His brother had only wanted to be good, to atone for what he had done in the past, and someone had finally seen that in him. It meant more than the humans could ever know.
And when they were about to return to Asgard, Tony invited them to stay.
Loki, weirdly, really got along with Peter. He was weary around Clint, of course (well, he was weary with most of the team), but they all seemed to be getting used to his presence.
And, given some more time to heal, it might be said that they all ‘lived happily ever after’.
And if Tony Stark heard that last sentence, he’d scoff and look straight into the eyes of whoever muttered those words and say, “Give it a week.”
There was always something for the Avengers to save, after all. However... this time they’d do it as a family.