Marvel Oneshots And Crack

Bad Childhoods

Everyone thinks Steve Rogers had a perfect childhood. And Tony never opens up about his either. When some tapes are played of Tony's dad that feature little Tony, the team is very curious. Steve has a surprisingly sad confession when Bruce finds an old 1940s paper containing an obituary of Joseph Rogers.

Steve POV

"Hey Spangles. We're watching some old tapes before I consider throwing them away or burying them in a box downstairs. Wanna join?"

Tony walks up, wiping his hands with a rag. Motor oil or...something is smeared on his left cheek. Sometimes I forget he's also a car fanatic.

Stretching, I stand up from where I've been sitting on a chair outside, drawing the skyline. "Oh sure, why not?"

Sketchbook in hand, I follow Tony into the TV room, where Natasha, Bruce, Clint, and Thor are reclining on the sofas. I sit by Natasha, startled at how much I sink into the cushions. She smirks. "You know there's an imprint in the couch from you sitting there?"

My mouth twitches into a smile. "Shut it, Romanoff."

I'm hit with popcorn in response. The Russian assassin holds out a small bowl of popcorn to me. "Here. Want a bowl? It's kettle corn. Thor found it in Tony's popcorn cupboard and figured you'd like it better."

I blink in confusion. Popcorn isn't just made by kettle now? "A whole bowl for me?"

Natasha chuckles. "Of course, Steve."

I graciously take the ceramic bowl, lifting it to my nose. I'm instantly hit with nostalgia of Ma popping corn in that old black kettle, of Bucky and I burning it when we attempted to recreate the delicacy.

My eyes feel a little wet. Aw, fuck. Why do I keep doing this to myself? "Thank you so much. It smells exactly like the stuff my ma used to make."

"See? Told you it was worth the extra dollars to buy Spangles kettle corn, Bruce! My dad loved that crap too."

"Okay, okay, Tony. You're right. Happy?"

"Oh, I'm not letting you live that down."

"And don't I know it."

"Pfft. JARVIS, turn on the TV."

"Of course, sir."

The TV turns on. I see an older, aged version of Howard Stark. I feel a deep wave of sadness, seeing the world he got to see that I missed.

Howard is speaking, but I'm not processing anything he's saying. His voice sounds almost completely the same. I never realized how similar Tony looks and sounds to his father until I saw them both at the same time.

My attention is brought to the screen when a little boy with dark curly hair runs in, lifting something off the Expo display. Howard's voice turns harsh and cutting. Kid Tony immediately puts back what he was messing with, and someone carries him out of the room.

Adult Tony's shoulders tense up. "As you can see he was a lovely, even tempered lad."

I look down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Tony, that he treated you that way. Who was the man who carried you out?"

Tony's mouth twitches a little. "Jarvis, actually. He was our butler and pretty much my surrogate father. He died, though, when I was nineteen."

I nod. "At least you had someone who cared. I apologize for random questions-"

Tony chuckles. "Ask away, Rogers. Please, you're so polite it's heartbreaking."

I consider throwing popcorn at him but eat it instead. "Did you ever know Peggy?"