Why Not?

Chapter One: the Day It All Started

As you walked home from school, you couldn't help but feel awful. Your life wasn't awful, you knew people who had it "worse", yet everything felt awful.

Your foster parents said it was because you were a teenager, your friends said you were probably mentally fucked, and you'd decided that you just– didn't have the opportunity to feel overjoyed most of the time. You were too busy focusing on the things and people around you.

It didn't really make a lot of sense, but you'd decided your problems were just normal things that you needed to get over, and you always shrugged off any other feelings telling you otherwise.

There were a few days where you didn't shrug everything off, where you listened to how weird everything felt, the feeling that something wasn't right.

Today was one of those days.

You knew shit was about to go down as soon as you'd seen the vibrantly colored car parked in your driveway. You didn't know what type of car it was, but you knew from the design and paint job that it had to be expensive.

The next thing that told you life was different, was the fact that the great Tony Stark was in your living room, chatting with your 'father', Jerry, about the car parked outside.

This had to be about your abilities, and how Mr. Stark had found out about them was beyond you, but you were more concerned about what he was going to say while he was here. Your foster parents didn't know about your abilities, after all.

You closed the door with more force than usual, causing Mr. Stark and your 'guardians' to flinch and look in your direction. You didn't bother to put on a fake look of surprise or plaster on an empty smile like your 'guardians' had, instead choosing to look at Mr. Stark with a blank expression, a sigh escaping your lips as you looked over to your 'father'.

"Did you get a new job?" you ask, ignoring Mr. Stark's presence. You loved the guy, sure, but that didn't mean you wanted him here, with these awful people.

Jerry cracked a grin, trying to hide how frustrated you'd just made him as he spoke, "They said they'd get back to me, but I'm hoping." he answered cheerfully.

"So I'll take that as a no." you nodded and looked to Mr. Stark, the corner of your lip turning up slightly as you began to walk past them and over to the stairs.

"Y/n." Jerry called, his voice sending awful shivers up your spine, "We have a guest."

You ignored him, continuing to walk up the stairs, "I know, he's rich too, just your type, huh?" you smiled to yourself, even if you knew you'd pay for it later, "I'll be right down, I just have to put my bag in the room." you called, not bothering to look back at Jerry's probably angry expression.

As promised, you were back downstairs within a few minutes, now noticing your foster mother, Janet, sitting in the armchair. This meant you'd either have to sit next to Jerry or Mr. Stark.

Ha, like that was a hard decision to make.

You gladly walked over and sat next to Mr. Stark on the couch, crossing your legs and sighing as you looked over to the man next to you with tired eyes.

"Y/n, this is–"

"Anthony Edward Stark. I'm aware." you cut Jerry off, rolling your eyes as you extended a hand, "Be sure to keep your keys and wallet close, and don't be afraid to leave when you get uncomfortable." you joked. It was pretty close to the truth though, your foster parents liked sucking rich people dry, but they didn't always have the opportunity, so...

Mr. Stark took your hand and shook it, "I'll keep that in mind, but I was just waiting to talk to you. Do you mind if we step outside and talk for a sec?" he asked, nodding towards the front door.