Mute
By age five, Tony was completely mute. It wasn’t by choice, exactly.
He cried, like all babies did, but he quickly learned to remain quiet from the yelling, and sometimes beatings, he received from his father.
By age five, he was completely silent, which became trouble for Jarvis. So to help with communication, Jarvis taught him a bit of sign language.
On Tony’s fifth birthday, he didn’t spend it eating ice cream and cake to his heart’s content, he spent it standing in his father’s office being taught business etiquette.
Tony stood in the middle of the office, in a tight uncomfortable suit for hours learning the proper way to act around adults. When he would do something wrong, he would get hit, so he learned his father’s teachings fairly quickly.
By the end of the month-long sessions, Tony had learned one new phrase that his father had assured him was the only thing he needed to get through life, and it was ‘Yes, sir’.
It took him a while to get the pronunciation right, having not spoken all his life. He was not fond of the way his mouth was forced to move and twist to get the words out, and his voice was extremely raspy from lack of use.
Despite his father teaching him this phrase, he seldom used it. Used to being punished for speaking, his body had a bad reaction anytime he even thought about using his voice without his father’s permission. It rewired his hardware so that his own body hated speaking, and so he didn’t. Well, until he went to MIT and met Rhodey.
Rhodey was the only one who noticed he was actually mute. It wasn’t like he had any friends, but the teachers would yell at him when they called on him to answer a question and he simply shrugged. They thought he was just being difficult, but they didn't know.
They didn’t know it felt like he was swallowing razor blades every time he even tried to speak up. They didn’t know how his body would shake and sweat with the thought of speaking up and saying ‘The answer is 5 to the power of 2’. They didn’t know that he was constantly plagued with the screaming voice of Howard Stark telling him to ‘Shut the fuck up, Anthony!’. But he couldn’t tell them.
When he first met Rhodey in their shared room, the dark-skinned boy was similarly under the impression he was being difficult in not speaking. ‘Son of Howard Stark, too rich and smart to talk to us lowly lives,’ he heard the kids sneer in the halls.
A week into it Rhodey finally got fed up. He came stomping into the room, screaming and yelling. Tony couldn’t even comprehend the words or what exactly Rhodey was angry about, the scene reminding him so much of his home-life, until the boy started screeching “Just say something, dammit!”
Tony, shaking and pale, curled up onto his bed in fear, rasped out “Y-yes-yes s-s-sir. Yes-s sir,” the only words he knew.
Rhodey froze in shock, not actually expecting the boy to say anything. “So you can speak?”
“Y-yes sir, yes sir,” Tony said, eyes wide and fearful.
“So why haven’t you been speaking, then?”
Tony’s eyes grew even wider. “Y-y-yes s-sir.”
Rhodey stared at him, confused. “Okay, you don’t need to call me ‘sir’.”
“Yes-s sir-r.”
Rhodey frowned. “I just said-” Rhodey tilted his head, staring at the pale boy. “Do you say anything else?”
Tony stared at Rhodey, trying to measure his anger level. After a few silent moments, Tony lifted his shaking hands and started signing the small bit that he knew.
Rhodey’s eyes widened in realization. “Tony, are you mute?”
“Yes sir,” Tony rasped.
Rhodey felt like a dick after the confirmation, but the situation actually brought them closer as friends. From then on, Rhodey got the genius to open up and eventually he was able to teach him a few more words.
At first, Tony was extremely fearful of learning to speak, but slowly he grew more comfortable with the idea. His wish and need to share his thoughts with the words helped him push his fear to the back seat. By the time he graduated college, he was almost able to speak in sentences.
Howards death was a huge catalyst in Tony being able to speak loudly and as confidently as he does today. Without Howard constantly looming over his shoulder, he was excited to share his words with the world.
Tony knew from the start the Avengers were not fond of him. He knew they must have read Natasha’s report, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. His boyfriend, Clint, was the only one who gave him a chance.
Clint made him feel safe and loved and heard. He was able to tell Clint all about his horrible childhood, and the archer took it in stride, telling about his own less-than-ideal childhood. They used ASL as their secret love language which made Tony feel like a spy when he gestured to Clint across the room. Clint never pushed him to speak on the days he had flashbacks and felt like he couldn’t, and in reverse, Clint was there when he felt like he couldn’t stop talking because his voice would be gone forever if he did.
The Avengers got somewhat used to living with him, but one thing they could not deal with was how much he talked.
Tony wasn’t a talker. Heck, he was mute for most of his life. But he had social anxiety, so of course when he was around his teammates who actively ignored him when he was in the same room, he talked. He was nervous, he felt judged, and he also just wanted them to see him as a person- someone worthy to look at and speak to and listen to.
Usually when he rambled during a meeting or during team get-togethers, Clint would be there to subtly wink at him to calm down, and to squeeze his hand to lessen his anxiety. But recently as the Avengers’ threats were getting bigger and more serious, the occupants of the tower became more stressed and therefore their tempers got smaller.
Tony was making a coffee when Steve suddenly walked in. Tony excitedly started telling him about the upgrades he made to the Captain America suit. Steve huffed and puffed, though Tony did not notice and continued to ramble. It wasn’t long before Steve got fed up. “Stark, will you please just shut up? No one cares what you’re thinking or saying, so just be quiet!” Steve yelled firmly.
Tony stumbled back, hitting the counter. “Y-y-yes s-s-sir,” he stuttered. Tony quickly fled the room, flinching at the grateful sigh Steve let out.
Clint found him curled up in the corner of his workshop hours later, shaking. The archer approached cautiously, kneeling in front of his boyfriend. “Tones?”
Tony flinched, curling further into himself.
“Hey, no,” Clint said softly, “Tell me what happened, baby.”
Tony’s mouth twisted and turned and he coughed but nothing came out. Tony’s breathing picked up and his hands fisted his hair violently.
“Baby, baby,” Clint whined, gently pulling Tony’s hands from his hair. “Calm down, okay, deep breaths.” Clint coached Tony through some breathing exercises until the billionaire’s panic attack was finished. “Can you speak?” He asked softly.
Tony squeezed his eyes shut, “Y-y-yes-yes-yes s-ir, y-yes s-s-sir, yes-s-s sir,” Tony chanted, his face frustrated.
“That’s okay, Tones,” Clint said. He brushed the tears away from Tony’s face with his thumb and smiled. “Everything is going to be okay,” he signed.
Tony’s fingers were clammy and shaking but he managed to sign “Love you,” before crawling into his boyfriend's lap.
Clint pulled Tony close before scooping him up and carrying him to the bedroom. Once Tony’s breathing evened out, Clint left the room before asking Jarvis to pull up the footage of earlier. His face grew darker and darker as he watched how rude Steve was to his genius.
Clint stomped his way to the common room, barely giving Steve a second to greet him before pinning to the wall. Supersoldier or not, he would not be disrespecting Tony.
Despite how guilty Steve felt after Clint’s reprimand, it was nothing compared to how he felt watching Tony struggle through PTSD and speech therapy over his thoughtless words. It was a lesson to Steve and the other Avengers on how powerful words could be.