The start of something
Tony stares at the nasty scar that goes from his left cheekbone to his temple passing through his now glassy looking left eye.
He sighs.
His right eye travels to another scar that makes its way from his chin to his upper lip on his left side. Meanwhile his left eye mimics the first blindly.
Ha. Blindly. Good one.
He closes his eyes.
He is reminded again that his left eye was left unseeing by his and Rogers’ boxing match. Boxing match. More like brutal beating. Sure, he had held his own, but after Rogers had pinned him down and destroyed the arc reactor there wasn’t much he could have done trapped in the suit. There wasn’t anything he could have done as Rogers kept pounding on his helmet with the shield. Nor when the helmet broke and cut his skin, leaving him with a blinding pain in his left eye. Pun intended. There was nothing he could have done but, still, he wishes he could have just died then and there. After all, right now he had no one but F.R.I.D.A.Y.
Pepper left with Happy, Vision left, Rhodey’s in a coma, and the Avengers are just… gone. And he better stay away from Peter before he breaks him too
He passes a hand through his hair. God is he tired.
He doesn’t need to see the last scar to know it’s there. On the right side of his jaw. It’s thinner than the other two. It goes from his jaw to his throat passing just beside his jugular. A millimeter to his left and he would be dead. But he wasn’t. He was just fine. How lucky.
He scoffes at his own sarcasm and opens his eyes.
The three jagged lines are an angry pink, almost red. They are the only visible ones as the others are concealed by his shirt
Usually he avoids mirrors- for usually he means since the Civil Clusterfuck- but today he has to go to the Bartons. He has to look- well, he can’t really look fine, but he can try to look okay at least. And he could proudly say that after getting the bandages off, cleaning up and shaving into his treadmark goatee, he still looked like shit. Great.
It isn’t too obvious- besides the scars obviously, just little details that a mother like Laura would notice. His skin just a little too pail, making the scars all too noticeable, the bags under his eyes just a little too dark, making his glassy looking eye stand out, and being just a little too much on the thin side, making his cheeks look sunken and his cheekbones sharper.
He sighs again and looks at the Arc Reactor’s light shine through the cloth of his dark blue shirt. “Well, this is as good as it’ll get”
He gets out of the bathroom and looks at the two vests laid on his bed. One is a a grey that matches his pants and is bulletproof, the other one’s identical but isn’t bulletproof. He knows Laura wouldn’t hurt him, not without a really good reason, but hey, if putting your husband in jail isn’t reason enough, what is?
He goes for the safer choice and puts on the normal vest. Recklessness always did suit him.
He puts on his glasses, the ones that have a mirror effect so that people can’t see his eyes, and makes his way to the car.
OoO
Okay, he really has to knock
He has been standing on the Bartons’ porch for about fifteen minutes and he still hasn’t knocked. God he feels like an asshole. Standing outside the door of a woman whose husband and father of her children is on the run from the law mostly because of him and expecting her to even talk to him. She would probably rather shoot him than listen to him.
But this isn’t about him, is it? It’s about her and her children’s safety.
So he raises his hand to knock when it suddenly opens startling the shit out of him and making him jump back.
“Jesus!” He puts a hand on his fast-beating heart and takes a deep breath. He composes himself and looks in Laura Barton’s eyes.
She ignores his outburst and crosses her arms on her chest “So”
He raises a brow “so” he repeats, not knowing what to expect
“You’re alive” she says in a rather unimpressed way
Ah, right. Since he hasn’t shown his face since the so called ‘Civil War’ the press just speculated he was dead. Because when hadn’t Tony Stark wanted to be at the centre of attention? Admittedly, there hadn’t been a silence this long from him since Afghanistan. But he couldn’t be seen in public, not like this at least. Not because he was ashamed- even though it played its part in it- but because people would ask questions. So he hasn’t made a public appearance in almost four months. And he would have kept it that way until he had perfected his hologram glasses (which would have created a hologram on his face to mask the scars) if it weren’t for the fact that the Bartons’ well-being has been put in danger. “Surprise?”
She snorts and shakes her head fondly “I’m glad to see you, Tony” she says before opening the door wider and letting him in
Okay, now he’s confused. She let him in without a protest. Is this a trap? “You are?” He asks in a distracted mumble as he enters cautiously. Looking around he notices the mess of toys scattered everywhere.
“What was that?” She asks from behind him as she closed the door
“Nothing” he says looking back at her through his glasses
She gestures to the couch offering him a seat, but he’s too nervous to be able to sit still so he just declines with a wave of his hand. She goes in the kitchen “would you like some water? Tea? Juice? I think I’ve got one of Clint’s beers somewhere in here” she asks rummaging through the fridge.
He thinks about drinking anything other than water and his stomach lurches “water’s fine” she bring him a glass of water a moment later “thanks” he takes the glass but doesn’t drink, tapping on it instead. He lowers his head to reorganize his thoughts now that he has her listening
She sits on the couch and waits for him to talk. When he doesn’t she does “how are you, Tony?”
He stops the tapping and looks up to find her eyes searching him. He forrows his brows. How is he? Why would she ask? Why would she care? Is this a test? Can’t she see what he looks like? He looks terrible he knows. So why is she asking? Should he say the truth? Nah, she is probably asking out of politeness. “Fine” he can see her looking at him skeptically, but he couldn’t stand the look of pity that would certainly come with the truth, he isn’t weak, he’s a Stark and Stark men are made of iron. “I’m fine”
Her eyes roam over his scars, taking in every little detail, then they move down, finally settling on the reactor
“Hey, eyes are up here” he says trying to alleviate the tension
She huffs and looks back at his glasses, eyes full of amusement. Then she turns serious again “are you though? Okay?” She asks concerned and- oh, that’s real concern
He sighs deeply and gives her a tired smile “always” he lets a beat pass “anyway, how are you and the little agents?” He changes the subject.
She smiles sadly at him “we’re okay”
“Really?”
“Well… it’s not-” she sighs “We’re well enough” she settles on “We aren’t fine by any means but I doubt you came all the way here to ask that. Not that I doubt you care, but you could have asked that by calling. So, why are you here Tony?”
Okay, here we go “There might be a threat to your safety” he blurts out “I put Ross in prison a coupe of months ago and- well, he wants revenge on me and the Avengers. So he’s probably gonna come for you if he finds out about your existence and so I thought that maybe you would want to come to the Compound to live there because you would be protected and I mean it would be just me, because Vision left to go to Wanda and Rhodey’s in the hospital but it’s safer than you being without protection and-” he stops himself once he notices he’s rambling. He looks down “I know that it’s all my fault and that you don’t trust me but-”
“I trust you” she states interrupting him.
He looks at her speechless “What?” He must have heard her wrong, right?
“I trust you” she repeats and yeah, he definitely heard right
“Why?” He asks confused
She shrugs “Clint trusts you”
He snorts “Yeah, and look where it got him”
“It was his choice to go against the law and it was Captain Rogers who called him, not you” she says. “Now, I’m not going to sit here to argue with you on whose fault was it, there’s a threat to my family. So, tell me again why should we come with you to the compound?”
“Well, Ross-”
“Not that part” she stops him “I mean why can’t you just come here if you are the only Avenger left? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to come here which is an unknown location than for me and the kids to come to the compound which is famously known as your home? Certainly people would notice if you smuggled in a woman and her three kids, right?”
He sits down “I… hadn’t really thought about the possibility” he admits
She raises an eyebrow “you thought about getting a woman and three kids away from their home just after they lost their father… but you haven’t thought to just come here yourself?” She asks skeptically
He scratches his neck and looks down “well… I just- I didn’t think you would want me in your home”
“Oh, Tony” she places her hand on his, making his eyes snap to her “it’s not your fault Clint’s in prison” she says sternly
He shoots her a small smile, not believing her “anyway” he says, trying to change the subject once again “you’re right, I should move in here to keep you safe, not the other way around. So, I’ll bring my things here. Don’t know how long I’ll be here for, so I’ll just bring some stuff and then some more as time passes and obviously a couple of suits to guard the perimeter and one for me in case of emergencies. I’ll have to bring some stuff to work too and-”
“Tony?”
He stops mid sentence and looks back up “yeah?”
She smiles “you’re rambling”
“Oh… right! So… I’ll go now” he gets up to go
“Tony!” she calls from behind him
He turns back around “Yes?”
“One last question” she gets up and walks up to him, looking straight through his glasses as if she could see his eyes. He nods giving her permission to ask whatever she wants “can you take off your glasses?” He freezes, not knowing what to do. “It’s okay if you don’t want to”
“No, it’s okay” he sighs “you trust me, the least I can do is trust you back” he shifts and takes a big breath.
He takes his glasses off
The only clues that she saw his blind eye are her widening eyes, apart from that it would be impossible to detect any emotion on her face. “I’m sorry”
He startles at the apology “why?”
“Because my husband helped in hurting you” she admits
“You aren’t responsable for his actions” he says fiercely
She scoffs “well you aren’t either but you still feel guilty, don’t you?”
He half smiles “touché”
“It’s been nice seeing you Tony”
He nods, believing her only a little bit “you too” he says before leaving
He has packing to do