Chapter 3
Tony shoved his gloves off, throwing them on the table with frustration.
He stares down at the circuit he’s been messing with for the past couple days. He didn’t even know what it was for- but it kept him busy enough that his mind didn’t drift to the others in the floors beneath and above him.
Okay- what the fuck was he doing? This was his damn house. Hiding was easy. It was less painful and it was simple.
But it was also unfair.
Plus he needed a shower badly. The oil all over his body was starting to get grimy and Tony wanted to scratch his own skin off because of the feeling. So, two full days after nonstop work in the lab, he swallowed his pride and walked into the elevator that took him up to the common floor of the compound.
He’d somehow managed to avoid meeting Barnes at all, which was a shock in it of itself. Tony had the feeling that the super soldier was most likely avoiding him just as much as Tony also was. He wasn’t sure if he should be wary by that or relieved. No- he was definitely relieved. He didn’t want to talk to that man at all. That weapon.
Tony thinks back to Thor. Why Goldie Locks suddenly wanted to be his cheerleader, Tony would never know. To say he was shocked was only a simple understanding. It was obvious throughout the few years of knowing the Asgardian that he preferred Steve over Tony.
Everyone did.
Even dad. Tony thinks with bitterness.
Tony didn’t understand Thor. Because Thor wasn’t suppose to be on Tony’s side. That’s just not how it worked. The only ones who were ever truly on his side were Pepper and Rhodey. And Happy too, sometimes. And Peter.
Peter.
Tony felt a pang in his chest and sighed while the elevator dinged, doors opening. He hesitated. Nervously, he stuck his head out. He looked back and forth anxiously to see who was here.
No Clint.
No Barnes.
No Steve.
He released a shaky breath of relief. He’s fine then.
Wobbling out on his crutch, he goes to the kitchen. There, he sees Vision cutting up some tomatoes. “Hey Viz.”
Vision spares him a glance. “Good morning, Mr. Stark. I see that the Captain has returned?”
“Yeah,” Tony mutters, grabbing his fuck off mug and placing it in the coffee machine. “Wanda too.”
Vision tensed slightly. “I see.”
Tony peeked at him from the corner of his eye. “You know, if you don’t want to talk with her then I can arrange something, right?”
”It is kind of you,” the other began, voice terse. “But I’m quite fine, thank you.”
Tony shrugs. “Whatcha making?”
”An egg with vegetables. This book calls it an Omlote.”
”Omelette.” Tony corrects with a smile, a small giggle escaping him.
”Strange word, is it not?” Vision frowns.
”Well, it is French.” Tony chuckles, taking a sip from his coffee
“Nice to see you out of the lab.” A familiar voice says from behind him, quiet.
Tony froze, smile vanishing. He turned to catch a glimpse of the wispy strands of bright red hair and looks away from Natasha. Next to her stands Sam.
”I’m gonna go take a shower.” Tony says abruptly, setting his barely touched cup of coffee on the counter.
Natasha grabs his arm and Tony flinches. “Get off.” He says flatly. Surprised, she lets go.
”I shall make you an omelette, Tony.” Vision tries to ease the tension.
”Not hungry.”
He leaves to the elevator before he can hear a response.
Natasha stares blankly at the closing elevator doors.
”Give him time Agent Romanoff,” Vision eyes her carefully. “It takes a while to heal when you’re injured.”
“His arm is starting to look better to me,” Sam mutters, biting into an apple.
”His physical injuries are not the ones I speak of.” Vision says calmly, grabbing the two plates of omelettes and leaving.
His words render them both speechless.
>>> <<<
Tony isn’t surprised when he sees the omelette placed neatly on his desk when he steps out of the shower. He just chooses to ignore it as he rubbed his hair vigorously with the towel.
He phones Happy, setting the phone on the dresser as he slips into some suit pants, aware of his healing ankle.
”Yes boss?”
Tony grins as he zips. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite personal slave- how are you today?”
”Just peachy.” The man replies with sarcasm.
”How’s the kid?”
”I was actually just about to call you about that,” Happy began. Tony stopped suddenly, dropping his shirt and picking up His phone. “What happened?” He asks, alarmed.
”Calm down- he’s fine.” Tony relaxes.
”He seems a little out of it though. I don’t think he’s gotten much sleep lately. He’s dozing off in the car on the way to school. Plus he’s just...” Happy trails off.
”What?”
”Sad.”
Tony rubbed his face tiredly, trying to ignore the pang of guilt that surged through him. “Yup... my fault. Okay- don’t pick him up today.”
”You going back to high school, boss?”
”Seems like it. Adios mi amor.” Tony ends the call without waiting for a reply.
Tony shoved a t-shirt on and then threw his blazer on overtop. He grabs his crutch and puts his sun glasses on as he hobbled out of his room and into the elevator.
“FRI, get the car out front.” Tony hums as he exits the compound. Almost instantly, a body jumps out in front of him and Tony has a heart attack.
”Jesus Christ you fucking psycho!” He snaps, putting a hand over his forehead as he glared at a familiar looking face.
”Look dude, I just wanted to apologize.” The man says honestly, putting a hand on his shoulder. There’s a sympathetic look in his eyes.
”Who the hell are you!?”
The man’s face drops and he pouts. “Ant-Man! You remember me! Scott Lang? The dude in the red and black suit?”
Tony narrows his eyes before a memory of the little shit messing with his suit goes through his mind and he remembers. “Oh right. Tiny dude that turns big too.”
”I just feel like we should start over, yeah?” Scott pats his shoulder.
Weirded out and slightly annoyed, Tony nods. “Yeah- sure Ant dude. No hard feelings. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m incredibly busy today.”
He walks past him and enters the car. “Go to Peter’s school. And do a background check on that Ant guy. He freaks me out.” Tony mutters, staring at an excited Scott waving goodbye at him frantically.
”Right away, sir.”
The car takes off.
Tony leans on his car impatiently, arms crossed as he glares at the entrance of the kids filing out with their annoyingly loud voices talking about bullshit that Tony didn’t care about. About three minutes after the bell, he sees Peter’s slump exit the doors.
”Underoos! Hurry up!”
Startled, Peter looks up, brown eyes wide. “Mr. Stark!?” He gasps, looking at him as he approaches the car. “What are you doing here?”
”Just get in the car. We need to talk.” Tony opens the door for him before limping into his own seat. Peter stared at him cautiously. “Why are you driving? You’re injured-“
”I’m not. FRIDAY is.” Tony shrugged. “FRI, take us somewhere quiet.”
Friday parks in between two buildings, muffling the sound of New York.
“I’m only gonna say this one last time, kid. So listen up.” Tony turns to him with no jokes present in his voice, eyes fully serious. “You cannot continue to do this. No more of this personal vendetta against the Cap. No more arguing with Clint or the others about what happened.”
Peter stared blankly at Tony for a moment. And then his eyes filled with annoyance. “Are you serious?”
”I can fight my own battles.”
“You can. Only problem is- you won’t.”
”That’s enough Peter. I want you to stay away from the Cap, okay?”
”Why? Worried I’ll yell at him?”
”I’m worried he’ll hurt you.” Tony admits, fiddling with his fingers. “And that you’ll hurt him.”
“What about Thor?”
”What about Thor?”
”You said to stay away from the Avengers,” Peter began. “Does that mean Thor?”
”That means everyone except for Viz, Bruce, Thor... and some dude named Scott- but you don’t need to worry about him.” Tony waved off. “I trust Thor. And I trust Bruce. No one else. Stay away from the rest of them.” Tony says calmly.
Peter is silent.
“I’m sorry.”
Tony turns to him and is startled to see water shining in the boy’s eyes, doe brown glossy. Tony’s throat tightens. “Hey,” he says softly, gently putting a hand on Peter’s head and Peter burst into tears. “Hey, Pete- no. It’s okay.”
“No it’s not.” Peter chokes out, rubbing his wet eyes stubbornly, nose pink. “You don’t deserve that, Mr. Stark.”
”You don’t know me, Peter. Not the way you think you do.” Tony states and Peter shakes his head. “Yes I do. It’s the others who don’t know you.”
Watching Peter cry hurts Tony in ways he never realized could. And he opens his arms awkwardly. Peter blinks at him in surprise, before shoving his face in the man’s chest and wrapping his arms around Tony.
”I’m sorry for yelling at you, kiddo.” Tony tells him, running a soothing hand through his hair.
“It’s okay.”
He really doesn't deserve Peter.
>>> <<<
There was another place.
His lab was his safe haven. It was where he went to get away from everyone else. He drowned himself in work- because that was the only way he could distract himself from the thoughts that raced in his mind constantly. It was like rest wasn’t a word that lived in the Stark’s dictionary.
After talking to Peter, Tony just wanted to fall asleep. Which was rare. The days of sleepless nights and hardworking mornings finally took its toll, and Tony fell asleep.
He really should have expected the nightmares. After the whole situation with the wormhole in New York and Ultron, Tony was sure he’d get them to ease up a bit.
And then shit spiraled once more after that damn video. His mother’s words haunted his dreams and the sight of everyone dead brought tremors to his body until he was gasping awake, sobs racking through his body.
He shakily grabs his tank top, putting it on over his naked chest before stumbling out of the bed. He wipes his sweaty palms on his sweatpants before he grabs his blanket, wrapping it around himself like a cocoon. He limps into the elevator and presses the highest level.
There was another place. The roof. The one place no one seemed to go to.
He exits and sucks in a breath of the cold fresh air with a silent relief.
He climbs up the ladder to the highest point and sits down. He makes sure the blanket is wrapped over his head to protect his ears from the nipping cold air of New York.
He stared up at the bright stars in the dark sky, images of the wormhole and the chitauri racing through his mind.
Sometimes he wished he wasn’t Tony Stark. Wasn’t the son of the great Howard Stark. Wondered what it’d be like to grow up like a normal kid without an energy source to run his heart. Without having to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and to be the source of disappointment for everyone around him.
He knows he’s a disappointment- he doesn’t need them reminding him constantly. He tries to make it up with his intelligence but it doesn’t seem worth as much. The only thing Tony was good at was hurting people. For a moment, after banning the emissions of firearms in his company, he genuinely thought he was finished with hurting people.
Truth was, he was only done hurting people intentionally. Now, no matter what he did, someone got hurt.
The nightmares never really left. He shouldn’t be surprised by that.
He suddenly hears a thump, and whips his head right.
Tony’s breath hitches in his throat. There, the man was trying to climb down the ladder as silently as possible, one arm missing.
Bucky blinks at him. “Um... hi.”
Tony’s pulse quickens and he panics, taking in gasping pants.
Panic Attack.
Bucky frowns in concern at Tony, climbing up and taking a hesitant step towards him. Tony tightens his grip on his blanket so tight, his knuckles turn white.
”N-No! Get away- Get away from me!”
Bucky backs away, looking small.
Howard!
Her voice echos throughout the hollow ends of his mind, the images of the man in front of him choking his mother to death.
“I-I’m going to go get Steve-“ Bucky began to say but stopped when Tony flinched, fear widening in his eyes.
Bucky froze.
Tony was afraid.
Of him, that was understandable-
but it wasn’t just him.
He was terrified of Steve.
Bucky stared, horrified. Tony wasn’t suppose to be scared of Steve. They didn’t get along, sure. Steve has told Bucky about their different views. But Steve would never have thought this. And Bucky didn’t have the heart to tell him either.
Tony watched Bucky jump off and heard the door to the stairs slam shut. Gasping for breath, he threw the blanket off of him as he began to sweat. His hands are shaky as he reaches towards the edge, letting out a small, choked sob.
He clenched his arm around the edge, looking down at the city of New York with blurry eyes. All of a sudden there was a gentle arm around his waist, pulling.
”No! No! Let go! Let go!” Tony cries.
I’m not ready to meet dad again.
The person pulls hard and then there was something cold against his face.
Tony stopped.
He stares at the large ice pack pressed against his face and feels his body start to cool down. He stops thrashing and rests limp in the arm.
Shakily, he reaches up and pulls the ice pack away. He lets out a breath, blinking. He turns his head warily to see wide and innocent looking brown eyes of Bucky. His lips are turned downwards in a concerned frown.
”Let. Go.”
Bucky let’s go and Tony presses a hand against his forehead, feeling the migraine slowly appearing.
Bucky turns to walk away and Tony glares at his back hatefully. “Do you remember doing it?”
Bucky stopped, shoulders going rigid.
“Yes.”
Tony clenched his jaw. “Do you hear their pleading? Their choked screams in your sleep the way that I do?”
”Every night.”
Tony looks away, angry tears forming in his eyes. “Good.”
They stayed there for a moment, listening to the breeze flow by.
“It doesn’t count,” Bucky swallows. Tony stays silent, tears streaming down his face while he stares blankly out at the city. “My apology- it doesn’t count. It probably never will.”
Bucky gives him a heartbroken gaze, his own eyes filled with unshed tears. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not still sorry.”
Then he leaves, and Tony watches him go in the corner of his eye.
He looks back up to the stars. One shines bright to him and he wonders for a moment if it could be his mother looking down at him.
You can’t blame the gun for what the shooter does.
Tony might be too stubborn to believe that. But maybe, just maybe, he’s starting to understand it.