Butterfly Effect

December 24th, 1975

It was five in the afternoon in the Stark Manor and the aroma of dinner wafted through the large, ornate house. The place often felt like an empty cage to five year old Tony Stark, but today was different. Instead of the dozen cooks in the kitchen, it was just Mom, Jarvis, and Ana running around trying to make a giant Christmas Eve dinner. Gala plans fell through, meaning that instead of thirty boring and condescending buisness people filling the house and him being forced into a stuffy buisness suit to charm everyone with his peculiar genius and what his mother referred to as 'the Stark grin' that made waitresses give him extra waffles, it was just a small gathering. If it wasn't clear, Tony much rather preferred the latter. He might not have a clear memory of the other Christmases he'd experienced, but the thought of them was often accompanied with a sense of loneliness. Having only family at the Christmas dinner didn't mean he got out of dressing up, unfortunately, but it was much less formal than his usual wear. He negotiated to wear sneakers instead of polished black shoes, so that was a plus.

Currently, he was helping Jarvis to set the table. They were using the smaller dining room instead of the big one and it had been decorated for the occasion, along with the rest of the house. Despite the stuffy parties, Christmas was Tony's favorite time of year because his mother, father, Jarvis, Ana, and him were all together for three days. That might not seem like much to others, but it was the world to him. Tony took a stack of glass plates carefully, aware of Jarvis's watchful eye on him from where he was standing at the stove, stirring the soup and waiting for the ham to finish baking. The turkey was already cooling in the middle of the dining room table, sitting on a large silver platter that had a few too many detailed etchings for it to just be a plate. To him, anyway. His mother liked that kind of thing.

Tony set the plates at each seat carefully, making sure they didn't hit too hard against the mahogany surface. After the plates, he set the forks and spoons just as he'd been taught, then the glasses. As Jarvis put the large bowl of vegetable soup on the table, he knelt down by the boy, sitting a hand on his shoulder. "Good job, young sir," he praised, making Tony smile. He knew setting the table was a menial task, but Jarvis always made him feel good about doing even the small things. Where his father wouldn't praise him, Jarvis had encouraging words and excitement over his accomplishments that wasn't just for the press people who had really flashy cameras. A big part of him vied for the attention of his father, no matter what it was for, which lead to him creating his first circuit board. He was building an engine now, but he was having a hard time getting the parts. He just hoped his father would be proud of him for that. Maybe even lift him up in his arms or place him on his shoulders like fathers did for the other kids in his second grade class. That was his dream, his Christmas wish, and maybe it could come true. "Hey," Jarvis's whisper brought his attention back from his thoughts, and he watched as a mischievous glint appeared in his brown eyes. "I think Ana has something for you."

He tilted his head to the side, a small smile appearing on his face as his curiosity grew like a raging fire. Jarvis gestured him toward his wife, who was now standing at the counter organizing the deviled eggs into a little sculpture on a plate, the cranberry jam and mashed potatoes sitting in bowls beside her, filled passed the brim. Tony walked over to the woman he considered his aunt, basically a second mother to him, barely restraining himself from running. It was a rule to not run in the kitchen, and the one time he did he ended up slipping and going almost head first into the lower cabinet, resulting in him being sprawled out on the ground with a lengthy bruise on his arm. That resulted in quite a bit of aches and no lab for three days. He was never doing that again - not being able to do any engineering work had been the equivalent of torture to him. "Jarvis said you had something for me, Ana?" Tony asked as he curled his hands over the edge of the counter, peering over the marble surface before looking up at her with his big brown eyes. She smiled kindly down at him, her red hair almost glowing in the fluorescent lights above.