Running over little kids wasn't on my agenda, but it found itself squeezed right in there at 12:42 PM.
"Get your ass out the door and go do something with your life," Rhodey called out, barging into my office as if he owned the place. He knew this was a sensitive time for me and acting sympathetic was not really what I needed right now. His words were harsh, but it was something good to just snap me out of it. "You've been sitting here for ages, I'm surprised you don't have a butt ulcer."
"I'm surprised you even know what that is," I retorted back, forcing myself to stand up. I winced a little as I heard my back and knees crack like bubble wrap once I straightened up.
"It's a mandatory lesson in the air force emergency medical class. Something about how sitting in planes all day can be bad for you."
I sighed as I grabbed the cup of coffee on my desk, refilled it, and walked out the door.
"You could at least change into something nice!" the colonel called out from behind me.
"Sorry, but between "ass out door" and "butt ulcers" I didn't hear any instructions about having to change into something appropriate. Think of it as me trying to scare away the paparazzi."
"Ground floor, sir?" FRIDAY called out from above me. I nodded, running my free hand across my face. I don't have the energy for this right now.
Ignoring frantic employees that tried to get my attention from the lower floors, I walked outside, not even getting a car, as I wandered around aimlessly. There was this sandwich place or deli that I've been thinking about trying: Delmars? I think that's what it was called? I heard it was nice and it's in a pretty low class area so I shouldn't get much attention there.
Sad life of a famous person.
Sometimes I wished I wasn't a multimillionaire. Yeah, the money is great and all, but I can't even have a lick of privacy. I'm going through one of the most difficult and sensitive and painful struggles of my life. Something even harder than getting kidnapped and tortured in a cave. I lost my son and the story just seemed like a spoon of sugar to feed to the eager journalists who wanted to write about the story. It made me sick.
Children who lose their parents are called orphans. There's no word for parents who have to bury their child because there's no proper way to describe that pain.
I took the time walking around, not really paying attention to what was in front of me, as I kept my head down and sipped on the coffee. It was nice to have some fresh air so I decided to not pull up maps and just wander around till I found the shop. That was, well, until I ran over something.
I lurched forward and the coffee in the cup spilled out of the top and onto the little boy who was now sprawled on the floor. He looked dirty and confused, his clothes torn up and his hair unkempt. It was clear that he was either from a neglected home or was living on the streets.
"Hey kid, I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention and I didn't see you," I said, trying to apologize. This kid has brown hair. Peter should have had brown hair.
The kid didn't say anything, but simply stared at me with large, wondrous eyes. I felt like he was scanning me as he fumbled with the bottom hem of his shirt that hung too loosely on his frame. His fingers touched the brown stain that erupted over the front middle of his clothes.
"Tony Stark. Iron Man."
Four words was all he said to me, still not breaking eye contact. I glanced around and saw that no one else paid us much notice. Perks of being in New York City. No one really cares for anyone out here.
"Yes, that's me. What's your name?" I asked hesitantly. I'm pretty sure he is homeless, that means I can't drop him off anywhere. Maybe I could treat him? I could take him to the deli I was about to go to and get him some food. God knows if he's been eating all this time.
"I am Peter," he replied, the end of his sentence raising up a little, as if he was asking himself. He waited a minute before adding more. "I am Peter Parker."
[Peter was remembering the one kind guard of his during his time in Hydra. His name was Ben Parker. He would always sneak him some extra food. Another piece of bread. Ben Parker was a good man. He was killed a few hours after the other guards caught on to what he was doing.]
"Okay Peter Parker, where do you live?" I asked him. He waited a second before pointing up to a random apartment building.
"I live in that building. My parents are out at work and I was hanging out with some friends. We were playing in the park and we got so dirty. You know how boys can be. I was just heading back home to wash up."
Oh. That makes a little sense I guess. What was I thinking, all of a sudden thinking the worst? Neglected parents? Homeless? Come on.
Just because you lost your kid doesn't mean every other parent out there is horrible.
"That's okay. Why don't you come back to the tower with me? We can get you cleared up and I can get you some new clothes to make this up to you," I offered, feeling bad.
The boy, Peter, looked hesitant at me, but nodded.
"I would really appreciate that, thank you sir," he whispered. Well. He has manners at least.
"Call me Tony, sir sounds old."
"Okay Mr. Stark," he responded, smiling a little as if he was proud of himself.
[This was his first time having a full on conversation with someone that was better than him. In Hydra, he was not allowed to make eye contact with any of the higher ups, which were all the guards, instructors, and handlers. Peter tried not making eye contact with Tony Stark, but something about him made Peter know that raising up his chin was safe. He didn't receive a blow or a slap afterward, either. The outside world is safe.]
I led the boy back as we walked back towards the tower. I can get Delmar's later. I placed a hand over the kid's shoulders as we walked, guiding him along. I think he flinched when I made the movement, but I also may just be seeing things. I haven't slept in two days, running on pure caffeine alone.
I held onto Peter as we walked into the tower, FRIDAY greeting me as we walked through. The elevator glided up towards my personal floor. I barely even made it inside the kitchen when my eardrums exploded.
"TONY!" a voice (Rhody) screeched out from inside. "I TOLD YOU TO GO CLEAR YOUR HEAD! NOT KIDNAP A KID AND TORTURE YOURSELF!"
I just told the kid to take a seat in one of the chairs at the island table as I set something up for him to eat.
YOU ARE READING
Not Anymore
FanfictionS-20 has only ever known one thing, Hydra, until one man came into his life and showed him that there was so much more. That man was his first friend. His older brother. But after one night, the two were ripped apart and S-20 cannot even remember hi...
