False Confidence
“So, where am I? And what year is it?”
Clint looked at the child Tony dumbfounded
“You’re on the roof of your compound, and it’s 2017” Natasha said without skipping a beat
the child Tony nodded “and you are?” He asked
“We are…” he searched for the right word. How did you describe what they were in just a word? What even were they? Coworkers/fellow heroes turned friends turned family turned enemies turned… what exactly? “…friends” he settled on
“I love how you said that with so much confidence I almost believed you” Tony deadpanned
Natasha rolled her eyes at Clint “we’re family”
“Now you sound way more sure about that than he did. So much so in fact that I almost believed you. Key word: almost” Tony said in a bored kind of way
***
Tony’s heart was beating loudly in his ears as he interacted with the adults. He acted nonchalant but was actually terrified. Who were these people? Why were they claiming to be his friends- family? Were they coworkers trying to take advantage of the situation? Maybe they wanted something from him? Did they think they could fool him into giving them stuff? Maybe they wanted him to hand over the company since he had suffered an age regression in both body and mind? And if so, didn’t that mean Howard was dead? If he had the company it must’ve meant Howard was dead right? He wouldn’t just retire, so if Tony did have the company Howard was definitely dead. But did he have the company? Maybe these were Howard’s employees? Maybe- wait, what if they had changed him? Maybe they were kidnappers who thought it’d be easier to kidnap a child than an adult? But then why kidnap him at all? Who did they think would pay them? Maybe he had a friend in the future? Wait, should he refer to this as the future or the present or- jeez Stark, focus! If his father was dead, did it mean mamma was too? Wait! What about Jarvis? Ana? Aunt Peggy? He tried to calm himself down. There was an easy way to know if these people were his ‘friends/family/whatever’.
“What did my mum teach me?” He asked suddenly after, having panicked internally, he had looked at them blankly for a while
“Uh… what?” Asked the one who just moments ago had red mist swirling around her
“If you know what my mum taught me you are definitely my friends, otherwise, you are lying. So, what did she teach me?” There was no way they knew she taught him to play the piano
The woman who the man had called Tasha- was it for Natasha? Was she Russian? instantly answered “to speak Italian”
Tony narrowed his eyes and hummed in consideration, he supposed she had taught him that too, and he never would have told anyone about that unless he trusted them. He nodded “Are... are my parents dead?” He asked, feigning fear at the possibility of his parents’ demise, which wasn’t too hard as he was fearing the death of Jarvis and Ana. Not asking about his parents would make them suspicious, cause he could bet everything he had ‘future him’ (present him?) hadn’t told them about his childhood. He had made a promise to himself when he was about four, just after Howard had hit his mamma for the first time and Tony wasn’t able to help, that no one would know how weak he was. Ergo, he was positive he hadn’t told anyone about his childhood. So, to keep up appearances he had to ask about them. Not that he didn’t care about his mamma, but Ana was more of a mother than Maria ever was. And Jarvis was more of a father than Howard could ever have been.
There was an awkward pause before the man kneeled down and gently, if not hesitantly, put his hands on his shoulders, making him almost flinch, but thankfully he suppressed it enough that the adults didn’t notice. “I’m… I’m sorry buddy, they are” he said
Tony took in a shuddering breath, making his lip tremble on purpose. He let a tear fall, then another and another. He scrunched his face up in sorrow and started sobbing, throwing himself at the man, hugging him tightly and clutching his shirt in his hands. The man hugged back, sadness clear in his very being as he whispered sweet nothings to him such as ‘it’ll be okay’ and ‘just breathe’ when he started fake hyperventilating
Most of the crying was fake
Again, not that he didn’t love his mamma, but she had been barely present for the first three years of his life, absent for the other three. And his father had beaten the family motto into him enough times that, even if he did want to cry out of pure grief, he wouldn’t have. The only reason he was crying right now was to fool the people around him. After all crying was weak but not protecting his own mamma from Howard was even weaker. So, to stay true to his four year old’s promise, he faked crying for his deceased parents. Not crying would give away too much.
But he had to admit, even if it pained him to do so, part of the crying was real. Because he was tired and hurting and confused and scared. Because he didn’t know who were the people surrounding or why was he in this situation. Because his chest hurt every time he took a breath and he didn’t know why. Because he had two jagged lines going from his wrists to almost his elbows. Because he didn’t even know if Jarvis and Ana were alive. Because he hadn’t cried in who knows how long.
He sobbed harder
He let himself relax a fraction. It was nice, in a twisted way. He couldn’t remember the last time that someone who wasn’t Jarvis or Ana or aunt Peggy hugged him. And even then the hugs were brief and fleeting in case Howard caught them and punished them for coddling him. And the man was rubbing comforting circles on his back, hugging him tightly. He clung to him and buried his face in his shoulder, letting time pass. The man… he reminded him of Jarvis. His hug was safe in a way only a father’s was capable of being
He took a moment to gather his thoughts. He needed to know more about the situation. So he had to find a way to let them talk freely in front of him… sleeping, he had to fake sleeping he thought as he counted the minutes.
He let minutes pass by, and waited the thirty minute mark before faking to exhaust himself to sleep, regulating his breathing to be slower and deeper, letting his eyes fall closed and his face relax. His sobs quieted and his sniffles faded. He let his full body weight rest on the man, boneless and forcibly relaxed.
The man had done this before, Tony noted as he lifted him up with an ease and calm that came solely from handling children on a daily basis. He was definitely a father. The man hugged him to his chest “let’s go to the common room, we need to see how Cap and Sam are, and they’ll want to know about Tony” he said lowly to the women.
They slowly, probably as not to wake him, made their way to the common floor, using the elevator.
The elevator dinged and then they were there, and Tony heard a grunt of pain from somewhere to his left
“Stop whining, you’re distracting me” said… someone
“Oh I’m sorry James, is my pain distracting you?” Tony recognised that voice as the one who he had stabbed in the thigh
“It is actually, thanks for asking” ‘James’ said
“Asshole” murmured the first guy
“You’d think he’d be kinder to the guy who’s currently stitching his wound”
“Is this what you humans call ‘banter?” Asked whispering a new voice, closer to them
“Oh no, Viz, this has more ‘old married couple bickering’ vibes” the man holding him said
“Stop bickering you two, you’re making my headache worse. Damn that kid has a mean swing” said another guy, probably the one Tony had hit with the frying pan
“Captain America, downed by a five year old” snickered the one who was getting stitches
“Talking about said five year old” said the man holding Tony making their presence known
“You got him?” Asked the one they called ‘Captain America’. Tony was very tempted to blow his cover and snort at the nickname
“He’s so scrawny!” He heard the guy getting stitches yell “how the hell did you get knocked out by a little scrawny kiddo like him?” He asked sounding dumbfounded
“You knocked out a five year old?” Asked concernedly ‘James’
“What? No! Who do you take me for? He just cried himself to sleep” the one being questioned whispered
“Why was he crying? Clint, did you make him cry?” Asked ‘Captain America’ in a disappointed voice
“Oh come on! When have I ever made a kid cry?” ‘Clint’ asked whispering harshly
“Well, there was that one time-” started ‘Tasha’ whispering too
“It was one time, guys, one time!” He interrupted her, whispering in fond exasperation as the others chuckled
“Then why was he crying?” Asked the one getting stitches, whispering
“Also, who is he? And why did he stab Samson and Cap?” Asked ‘James’
“I told you that’s not my name” ‘Samson’ sounded annoyed
“Sure you did, Samson” mocked ‘James’
“You little-” started ‘Samson’
“Guys! Stop, you’ll wake him” interrupted ‘Clint’ bouncing up and down, probably to keep Tony asleep
“As for your question about who he is, well… he’s Tony” said ‘Tasha’ bluntly
“Just Tony? No surname?” Asked ‘Samson’ confused
“No, no, you didn’t get it, he’s Tony” said ‘Clint’
“Yeah… I got the name… what about it?” Asked ‘Samson’ cautiously
“He. Is. Tony” ‘Clint’ said slowly “Stark” when nobody said anything he continued “you know, billionaire genius playboy philanthropist?” Still silence “the one who owns this compound?”
“Yeah Clint, we know who Tony Stark is, but who’s the kid?” Asked slowly ‘Captain America’
“Wait, you mean he’s Stark’s kid?” Asked Samson “you owe me fifty bucks, Buck”
“hilarious” deadpanned ‘James/Buck’
“No, I’m saying he is Stark”
And there was silence
“You sure I’m the one who hit his head?” Quipped ‘Captain America’
“He’s serious” said ‘Tasha’ “the kid is Tony Stark, his body got pushed through time”
“What does that mean?” Asked ‘Samson’
“It means” started the only person he hadn’t already heard, who he supposed was the one with the red mist “that Stark got de-aged”
For a moment there was silence
“Fuck” said ‘Captain America’. It was muttered but no less heartfelt
“Language” chorused the room