Shadowplay | Tony Stark

FORTY NINE - SELFISH

Tony had been abnormally quiet since meeting the rest of the team in Wakanda. He hadn't exactly been himself since splitting up with Mila, but over the six weeks that they'd been apart, the team had noticed him slowly start to pick himself back up as time went on.

After returning from his son's birthday, however, it was almost as if all the progress his friends and colleagues had noticed him making had disappeared, leaving behind a miserable version of their leader to turn to.

Mila hadn't felt much better than that either. In fact, she felt like she'd had her heart broken all over again when she watched Tony walk away from her for a second time, knowing all too well how much having someone hurt you again cut deeper than the last time they'd scarred you.

She pretended everything was fine in front of Joss and her mother, putting on a brave face when Tristan talked excitedly about his birthday and how much of a wonderful surprise seeing his father turned out to be.

In reality, she had fallen apart. She replayed Tony's cold eyes and expressionless face over and over again in her head, torturing herself as she recalled the way he said her name before walking out of her home. It didn't make sense for her to dwell on such pain, but she simply couldn't stop thinking about it.

Mila thought Tony understood. She thought he knew why she made the decision to leave New York and why living anywhere else wasn't an option, but it seemed like she had been wrong. She'd watched Tony turn from somewhat of a local fugitive into a father to her son, though it had become painfully clear to her that even after stepping up to a plate he didn't have to, his mind still hadn't grasped the concept of what it meant to be a parent.

It hurt her to have to tell him again that her child would always come first, a sinking feeling inside of her chest when he asked if they'd come back to New York with him. Mila couldn't understand why Tony didn't get that home, their home, was where Tristan needed to be, not anywhere else.

She'd watched her son flourish intellectually and socially since returning, noticing how much more talkative and expressive he was about his life and his friends, telling her how happy he was to be back in Chicago.

Mila knew her child best, and regardless of where her heart wanted to wander, her head was always going to stay with her son's best interests, whether Tony understood that or not.

"So," Clint cleared his throat after the team briefing was dismissed, walking alongside Tony down a hallway and into a room where he'd been working alone earlier, "How was the kid's birthday?"

Tony debated ignoring Clint altogether as the question he'd posed made him feel like he'd had his tongue ripped from his mouth, only an urge to find his words came out of nowhere instead.

"Birthday was fine," he replied, "Kid's happy."

"And Mila?" Clint asked, leaning against a wall with his arms folded.

Tony paused, kissing his teeth before looking up from his desk, "Can I ask you something?"

Clint shrugged and nodded. He'd had a feeling something had happened while Tony had been away from the second he walked through the door into their meeting earlier. He'd expected Tony to be a ball of energy and determination, fixated on the mission at hand and eager to get everyone prepped, only he was met with something far more lacklustre to say the least.

"Go ahead."

Tony sighed and scrolled through the screen he was working on once more before swiping away all the work, leaving it blank. He walked over to the table in the middle of the room and placed his hands down on the glass, leaning forward with his head between his shoulders for a second before pulling his eyes up to look at Clint.