Biography | Quentin Beck

[Comparisons] - Monday, January 21st, 1976

At first glance, he thought he would hate turtlenecks. The way they seemed tight and constricting, almost claustrophobic like. But to his surprise, they were quite cozy. Snug, sure, but that's what made it work so well. After the huge inconvenience from yesterday, the two friends traveled back into the city to help cover up the obvious bruising on his neck.

Speaking of, the journey back to what was considered home base was not an easy one. Quentin had to beg Tony to stop walking. Turns out, Tiffany had hurt him pretty good, causing the eleven-year-old to limp. Not taking no for an answer, Quentin had a solution. The bicycle had a flat from when she had jumped him, spiraling out of control and getting stuck on a sharp rock. Beck forced Stark to sit on the trike while he would walk with it. 

Tony of course protested, saying he was fine and all the Stark like excuses, but falling on his face twice was enough evidence that he at least needed to take a break. Finally, he had agreed to the royal treatment. The déjà vu was strong when they entered the Stark house. It reminded them of the very first day they met. After parking his bike outside, Quentin carefully helped Tony up the stairs.

It was an interesting experience, their roles reversed as Tony was the one injured and Quentin was the doctor patching him up. His heart broke for his friend, the way he would flinch or tremble from his touch whenever he was trying to wrap his injuries. He saw himself in the boy at that moment. With him being a little more exposed, Beck could make out even more bruising and past scarring. It would be inappropriate to bring it up again, so the blue eye boy did his best to ignore it and continue to patch up his friend. 

Today however didn't seem to be any better. Tony was different, and it was noticeable even if you didn't know him personally. The first big thing was when Quentin first woke up. Stark wasn't in his bed, in fact, he wasn't even in the room. Quentin thought that maybe he had already left for school, but his book bag was still against the wall. 

It was thankfully nothing to worry about as Tony came back shortly after, but he wasn't the same. He was more bossy, bold, stern. Not like his usual, goofy self. Something was wrong... what changed that morning? It was almost like his personality had been corrected.

It was extremely noticeable in History. What was usually a class clown stayed seated. His eyes glued to any work he was handed. Not even any comments about the teacher's lessons. Quentin tried to get an answer, ask him if he was okay or if something was on his mind, but Tony shut him down by dodging the question or countering it with a question. He'd give up... for now.

Tony stared at his work, almost on the verge of tears because of this morning. Truth was, he was woken up by Jarvis, who was there to let him know that his father wanted him. Now, this very rarely ever happened, so of course the young boy was excited. Maybe he had finally proven himself to the grumpy old man. Nope. Instead, he was screamed at, as usual.

"You got into a fight and got beat up?! What do I always tell you, Tony? Stark men are made of iron." He had said. It wasn't fair... Tony won the fight, so why wasn't he ever satisfied? He even voiced that to the company owner.

"But I won!" He had shouted, "How do I avoid getting beat up in a battle?! Nobody can do that!"

"Captain America can." Howard corrected. Tony's heart sank at that moment as he lightly growled at the comment. He hated being compared to Steve Rogers. It made him insecure, his self-esteem making him feel like he is never good enough. Not only that, but he also got a punch to the face for disrespecting the man. Just as all the other times, the young Stark left daddy's lab in tears.

It was unfair. Someone who wasn't even family was the golden child. Why did an experiment get praise, but not his own blood? The happiest day of his father's life being when he was shipped away to boarding school at just seven years old and considering him a headache whenever he saw him, but a soldier with awful hair could make him smile? How was that fair?