Hopeless Wanderer | Tony Stark & Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 1

'Stark!'

The billionaire took a deep breath to calm himself before he could get too worked up. 'Cap?' He turned around, used his small posture to hide the thing he had been staring at, lost in thought. He preferred to not give away too much about himself to his teammates, teammates who did not know what privacy was because they figured every bit of withheld private information could mean the difference between life and death one day. Because of that he was even more fond of a little secrecy.

He didn't hate Steve Rogers per se. He just didn't like the man, at all. A lot of awful memories resurfaced whenever he saw him. Often he was remembered of their first introduction, an introduction which probably could have gone better, had he been able to keep himself under control. He had gotten mad at the man who had caused his time with Howard and Maria Stark to be Hell on Earth. And in the instances he hadn't been respectful towards the soldier, the man had reacted just as bluntly – or actually, abreacted.

'Stark, Tasha's Widow Bites need to be replaced.'

Tony stuck his chin upwards in a down looking manner. The patronizing tone of speech of his team leader would not get to him. 'So?' If Black Widow's weapons really weren't up to date anymore, she was more than capable of telling him that herself. 'What's up, Rogers?'

The soldier stayed silent for a moment. Tony waited patiently – after all, he was the one who had all the time of the world at his disposal – but Steve seemed to have changed his mind. He said something, but it clearly weren't the words that had brought him here: 'She needs them ASAP. Who knows when our next battle will take place.'

The billionaire nodded in businesslike manner. He hadn't come to the superhero team to make friends. He was part of the team because he hadn't been able to tell which actions SHIELD would have undertaken had he refused. No favoritism, no attachments, just hiding in plain sight. There was nothing more to this whole superhero charade for him. 'I'll see to it immediately, Captain.' Sometimes even a little teasing would be asking too much.

But those kind of interactions had occurred habitually a long time ago, had been business as usual not even months after the formation of the team. He had teased his teammates since then, even challenged them a little bit. He didn't do it to be irritating. He simply did it because he wasn't afraid of what they might do to him. And also, somewhere, deep down, he had even hoped they would kick him of the team out of frustration.

In the end nothing like that had happened and shit, hadn't that proven to be problematic? Slowly he had become aware of the fact that hiding in plain sight was no longer as safe as it once had seemed. Thor was a threat, because that man was quite literally a God and had probably encountered more mythical creatures than Tony could sum up; and Clint Barton was dangerous because he often put his nose where it didn't belong; and Natasha Romanoff was the embodiment of danger because she knew everything about everyone. Frankly, the whole team was no longer fun and games, because none of his teammates were surprised any more when they encountered yet another peculiarity. Sooner or later one of his teammates would take a critical look at his child hood pictures and draw conclusions that were better of left undrawn. And shitshitshit, because the superhero party only grew.

'Vision!' Startled, Tony pushed down the photo frame he had been looking at, his mind miles gone in old memories. 'Doors! How often do I have to tell you?'

The android didn't seem to have been aware, but still he apologized swiftly. 'I am sorry, Mr. Stark. For a moment, I had forgotten how much you appreciate your privacy.'

'No problem.' He tried to play it cool, look like he belonged in the room, a room that wasn't furnished like any other room in the Compound, in his other properties even. He tried to look like Tony Stark, but it was a difficult image to pull of. Tony Stark didn't crawl away under heavy blankets with his feet stretched toward a cozy fireplace, Tony Stark didn't sit in an armchair he had found after venturing for hours in an antique shop, and Tony Stark surely didn't decorate his sitting area with a dusty tiger skin on which worn out spots were clearly visible. Tony Stark didn't push down a photo frame like a mad man when someone entered the room.

Tony Stark was not present in the room.

'Sir, Wanda and Mr. Barnes need you to settle an argument.'

Wanda and Barnes. So much had happened since the formation of the team. Heartbreak had taken place and enough events had occurred that had caused him to become afraid of certain things while he literally had no reason at all to become afraid of anything. And he fell, in relationships, not the romantic kind, but still, it was attachment. It was scary and shit, it seemed like he had yet again become too entangled in this life he had chosen for himself years before he had met these people, that he wasn't able to let it go.

He pushed the blankets aside, got up. His body was covered in clothes that didn't say Tony, just like the rest of the room didn't carry Tony Stark with it. Still, so much of him spoke from the style. It was clear the clothes had been worn many times before. They didn't scream BILLIONS at your face like most of the man's clothes did. At most, they told the story of a life that had been lived long before this one.