In The Beginning - Natasha Antonia Stark #1

1. Before

Notes: This first chapter is a series of snapshots of Toni's life.

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My first memory is Mom telling me that she loved me. Since I was only three, my immediate response was to tell her I loved her too. Then Jarvis walked in, and I instantly ran to him, hugging his leg and telling him I loved him. Jarvis laughed and picked me up, hugging me. "I love you too, Natasha," he tells me. The first two times I've said those words are also my last, for a very long time.

I never say it to Dad. Somehow, I know better not to. Years later, I still don't know how to feel about that.

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"You will never be Captain America, Toni! No one could replace him, especially you."

I was only nine when I realized how powerful hate was. That I hated Captain America, because he turned Dad into this. Turned him into this drunk monster. Set unrealistic expectations of America that were disappointing in the least. I wanted to scream at the hollow shell that had consumed Dad, but Aunt Peggy walked in right at that moment and dragged me out. "That man," she huffed. "Where is your mother?" she asked me a moment later.

"She's napping. She got a headache earlier and I suggested she lie down," I stated matter-of-factly.

Aunt Peggy smiled at me, but it looked kinda sad. Probably about Captain America, I think bitterly. "C'mon, kiddo, I need to show you something," she said, picking me up and carrying me to Dad's lab (even though I could walk without running into anything). She rummages through a few of Dad's junk drawers (Mom's words) before letting out a small "aha!", taking out a small picture. She hands it to me to look at, and I'm surprised to see that its Captain America, but sickly. "His name was Steve Rogers," Aunt Peggy explains. "He was the bravest man I ever knew. He became Captain America because he wanted to show people hope in a time of darkness. Because he hated bullies. Steve loved art; I'd always hoped he would become an artist after the war." Aunt Peggy looked sad again, so I tried to give her back the picture so she wouldn't be sad anymore, but she refused and pushed it back towards me. "No, love, you keep it. To remind you what real heroism looks like." Aunt Peggy picks me back up, and I hold into the picture tightly as we head to my bedroom. Aunt Peggy places me on my bed, kissing my forehead. "Go to bed, love. I'll still be here in the morning if you want to learn more about Steve." She leaves, but I stay up hours later memorizing the picture of Cap—Steve. When I finally do go to sleep, I'm thinking about how much metal it would take to make a good replica of the shield.

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"Jarvis, am I a freak?"

Jarvis nearly drops the vase he was cleaning when I asked my question. "Why would you think that, Natasha?"

I roll my eyes. He and Mom always insisted on calling me Natasha; everyone else had been calling me Toni for years. They were the only ones allowed to. "I'm smarter than most, I'm an asshole to a lot of people, and the only people who can tolerate me are you and Mom. Doesn't that make me a freak?"

Jarvis shook his head as he gently set down the vase  (my favorite one, the red and gold pattern striking against each other) and gestured for me to sit down. "Just because you're different doesn't make you a freak," he tells me as he sits next to me on the loveseat.

I look at Jarvis like he'd lost his mind. "That's exactly why I'm a freak," I explained logically.

That got a smile from Jarvis. "You want to know what a famous man once said?" I cock my head curiously. "I'm not going to change the way I look or the way I feel to conform to anything. I've always been a freak. So I've been a freak all my life and I have to live with that, you know. I'm one of those people. John Lennon said this. Now, did someone tell you you were atypical?"