Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

On days like this, Harley couldn't even leave his bed.

Abbie had tried to drag him out a couple times, but had given up when Harley just didn't move. She had looked at him with a mix of pain and pity before softly closing the door behind her.

On days like this, Harley didn't want to exist anymore. He didn't want the sunshine, he didn't want to feel the time passing, he didn't want to think of other people - he didn't want to be. Sometimes, if he could gather the strength to sit up, he would grab the cheap bottle of whiskey stashed under his bed. He would hope that alcohol could make things a little hazy, maybe even lull him back to sleep. Sometimes it did. Sometimes it didn't.

He worked in the garage in downtown, when he could. The money wasn't that good, but it was better than nothing at all. His ma' worked her ass off to keep the roof over their heads, that was the least he could do. Mickey, the guy who owned the garage always asked him what college he wanted to go to - and the most Harley could manage to do was to keep in a snort. He honestly didn't think - never had thought - that he would live long enough to go college. Even if he did, he wouldn't.

Abbie was brilliant in many ways he wasn't. He had taught her all he knew when they were both still kids - and she was more capable now than he could ever imagine to be. She was good with people, too. She always knew what to say to a crying child, or their exhausted mother, or anyone in need. There was a look they shared then, she would look at them with love and their eyes would shine with gratitude.

It was at these moments where Harley felt unneeded the most. Unwanted. Invisible. Alone.

So he would work. He would work to make money, to help his ma', to save college money for his sister. (He had seen the MIT website that she left open on their shared computer - he had stared at it for a second before closing the tab.) Sometimes his mind would slip to his garage, where tools lay gathering dust. There would be a lingering ache in his chest.

His life became that. He would work and he would drink and he would sleep. Just when he accepted that this would be it for the forseeable future, it all came to a halting stop.

*

It was a Tuesday afternoon. The shop wasn't busy on Tuesdays, the rush days were usually Mondays - not that there was much rush to begin with in Rose Hill. So when an expensive looking black Audi pulled in, it got all eyes on it. Dread settled in Harley's belly.

He saw his coworkers' eyes bugging out of their skulls, he heard their gasps as Tony Stark himself stepped out from the driver's side but he couldn't bring himself to react - it was like lead had settled into his bones, and not even this could shock him out of it.

The man's eyes zeroed on Harley. He was sure no one had ever looked at him with such unadulterated fury. Ignoring Harley's spluttering coworkers, the man walked directly towards Harley till he was standing right in front of the boy. It was weird to be looking down at the man, now that Harley was the taller one by a couple of inches.

The man sniffed. "You reek of cheap whiskey."

"Yeah, the quality of my alcohol isn't high on my list of priorities now," Harley deadpanned. "Not that you're unwelcome, but why are you here?"

"I'm here because your sister called me."

"Yeah? Well, she's at school right now. You're early. Are we done here? I have work to do." Harley turned to grab his wrench, but an iron grip on his wrist stopped him.

"No, we're not done," the man hissed. Harley could see that some of his coworkers were reaching for the closest tools - no matter how famous Tony was, they always looked out for their own.

"Your sister called me because she's worried about you - and from what I see, she has every right to be. You should be at school right now, not working at a shitty garage and wasting your potential so dramatically that it's just self destruction at this point. This ends now."

"Yeah?" Harley let out a bitter laugh. "How so? Because not everyone can afford to send every kid in the family to school, not that you would know. Not everyone is born with a silver spoon up their ass. I'm here because it's Abbie who deserves an education out of the two of us."

"So that's what you're going to do till she graduates college? Okay. What then? You're gonna be on the wrong side of twenty without a high school diploma, Keener," Tony seethed, jabbing a finger into the boy's chest. "Is that what you want? You want this for the rest of your life?" he asked, gesturing to the garage. "Or maybe you won't even get to have this if you can't get to work because you're a fucking drunk."

Harley looked at the man, incredulous and pissed. "Oh, you wanna talk about being a drunk? That's just fucking hilarious."

"Harley Keener, you're gonna get your ass into the car, and you're gonna come to New York with me, and you're not gonna even think about Tennessee till you're all straightened up."

"The hell I am!"

Over Harley's raised voice, all the men in the background became fully alert, standing up straighter as their brows furrowed. Even though Harley was sure Tony was aware of them, he didn't seem alarmed or even distracted. Instead, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a white, thin envelope from an inside pocket. He waved it in front of the boy's face.

"This is a reccomendation letter from me. This could get anyone into any college. I know this and you know this. Do what I say, and it's yours."

Harley took a step back, letting out a frustrated groan as he ran his hand through his mop of a hair. He hated that the man could yield so much power over him. But he knew Tony was right - it would help his sister more than the money he would make till she was off to college.

"I'm only doing this for Abbie," he said at last, relenting. He reached for the envelope, but Tony stuffed it back into his jacket.

"Get in the car."

"Fuck you," he said without any heat behind. He pushed past the man and got into the passenger's side, ignoring the eyes on him.

Tony was talking to Mickey, and even though Harley couldn't hear what they were saying, he could see that Mickey was a little aggresive but Tony didn't seem threatened. After pushing a different envelope clearly bursting with cash into the hands of Harley's boss, Tony got into the car without letting the man say another word. Harley shut his eyes and tipped his head back. He didn't want to see the men looking at them.

"I don't have my shit with me," he said, breaking the tense silence when he realised they were directly leaving town instead of heading to Harley's home.

"I have them," the man said, gesturing towards the back seat where Harley's duffel bag laid. "I didn't take any of the bottles stashed under your bed, though there was plenty," he remarked dryly.

"I really don't think you're one to talk here."

"I am though, since I know from experience that that's not a shithole you want to be in."

Harley didn't respond, opting to look out the window as Rose Hill melted behind them. He briefly wondered if they were going to drive all the way to New York, but he didn't bother to ask. It honestly didn't matter, anyway.

He didn't care. He didn't care about any of this, except the letter in the billionaire's jacket.

*

He startled awake by a hand shaking him awake.

"Hey, hey, easy there. You're here," said an unfamiliar voice. He opened his eyes to see a stocky man in a suit.

Him and Harley were alone in the jet that had eventually turned out to be their vehicle. Tony was gone, so they must have landed a while ago. Why had he left Harley?

He sniffed, pushing past the burly man who was definitely in his personal space and grabbed his duffel bag. They stared at each other challengingly before Harley made his way to the exit with a huff.

The cold air hit him like a particularly stingy slap from his ma'. The famous Compound was right in front of him, big and intimidating with all its sharp edges. Harley would have been excited about seeing it, once. 

"I'll show you to your room," Stocky said, "take a shower and ask the AI FRIDAY to take you to Boss."

*

You're so dead when I come back, Harley texted to Abbie as he laid down on his bed, freshly showered. He had chosen to ignore Stocky's command to find Tony, opting to lay in the strangely comfortable bed. It felt weird not having to bend in order to avoid springs. 

You're lucky to have that man in your corner. You may not see it now, but you're gonna thank me once he's done with you.

He can't keep me here.

He isn't though, is he?

Harley locked the screen and dropped the phone on the bed carelessly.

"Boss requires your presence in his suite," announced a woman from the speakers.

"FRIDAY?" asked the boy.

"This is she," replied the voice primly.

"What happened to JARVIS?"

"I'm not autorised to share that information, but you'll find that boss is. May I guide you to his suite?"

Great deflection, thought Harley. Tony's AI's were good with their words, just like the man himself. "Okay, thanks," he said tentatively. He got out of the bed and looked at himself in the mirror.

He would just have to put on an act. He would smile and laugh and sass like he was expected to, he would build a few things, and he would be on his way back to home in a couple of weeks at most.

He thought of the letter once again. He was doing all this for that letter. He had to, so Abbie could go to any college she wanted.

With a deep breath, he stepped out of the room.

Chapter Text

It was weird to see Tony Stark in his sweatpants, eating pizza on a couch that looked like it cost more than everything Harley ever owned. Yet, that was what Harley saw when he stepped out of the elevator.

"Oh, good, you're here," the man said around a mouthful. "I was starting to think you were trying to drown yourself in the shower. Take a seat."

Harley warily sat to the other end of the couch.

"New York pizza," Tony said, pushing a box towards him. "I took the liberty of ordering you a meat lover."

"Thanks," he muttered. He grabbed a slice and bit into it. It didn't really taste that different to him, but he hummed nevertheless.

They ate in silence. Tony was typing with his free hand on the tablet on his lap. Harley took the time to examine his surroundings. The lounge area was connected to the kitchen, which included a big fridge and a marble counter. The design was minimalistic but tasteful the same, with modern artworks hanging on the walls. Amongst the other ones that contained dishes, Harley could see a cabinet filled with all kinds of booze. Tony was sober as far as Harley knew, and while he didn't know Miss Potts, she probably couldn't afford to nurse hangovers often as a CEO. It was kind of pointless to keep them there, really.

A movement on the edge of his sight pulled him out of his thoughts. Tony was putting his tablet done, now that he had apparently finished eating. Harley looked at his own pizza. He had only eaten one slice. He remembered having made a deal with himself to act cheery, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Would it be so bad to not hide how he felt? Maybe Tony could help...

He pushed that thought out of mind. He was a grown ass man, he didn't need to hide in a corner to lick his emotional wounds. He was fine, anyway. Abbie was just being dramatic and thinking that she knew better than anyone. He would get Tony off his back, he would go back to Tennessee and get his job back. Done deal.

Tony cleared his throat. "Kid, look," he said, "I know that you don't wanna be here because you think you could be making money right now. Just so you know, I'll send money to your family as long as you're here - hell, I'll double it, just stay. I want you to get better."

Harley squinted at him. "What's in it for you?"

Tony was clearly taken aback. He blinked a few times. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said. You came all the way to Rose Hill, you're promising money and a letter for Abbie, you took me in - that's just too much trouble, especially for a man like you."

"Harley, I know I hadn't been able to keep in touch with you as much as I wanted to, but I do care about you - it's not trouble for me. And honestly? You remind me of myself a bit, and I probably wouldn't have survived my own fit of self destruction if it weren't for the one person who cared. I know your family cares about you, but they can't help you. Not like I can."  

Tony bit his lower lip as if he was trying to physically keep himself from speaking any further but didn't avert his eyes. Harley searched something in his eyes for a moment, something that indicated that the man wasn't being fully honest - but all he could see was bare sincerity.

"Who was the person who helped you?" he asked out of curiosity. The corner of Tony's mouth lifted in a fond smile.

"Rhodey - you may know him as War Machine or Iron Patriot, though War Machine is a far cooler name if you ask me - anyways, I've known him since college and he always stood by my side, made me get my shit together."

"Oh," he said, "he sounds nice."

"He is."

The silence returned after that, but it was comfortable rather than stifling. Harley grabbed another slice of pizza and scooted an inch closer to Tony.

*

He woke up to a pleasant but insistent melody the next morning. He groaned and tumbled out of the too-soft bed.

"Good morning, Mr. Keener. It's currently 10 a.m. Boss is not available till 2 p.m. but you are welcome to use his lab once you have breakfast," FRIDAY said, as prim as ever.

"Thanks, FRIDAY," Harley mumbled sleepily, "and call me Harley please." 

She didn't reply, but he supposed that she had acknowledged him and dragged his feet to the kitchenette in his room. He didn't have any appetite, but he had a suspicion that he wouldn't be allowed in the lab with an empty stomach. After fixing himself a bowl of cereal and black, sugary coffee, he plopped down on the bare tiles to eat as he scrolled on his phone.

There were a bunch of texts from his friends and the guys from the garage as well as some plain nosey people from the town. He ignored the others and opened the ones from his best friend Scott first. The boy had frantically tried to reach him, asking where the hell he had disappeared to, what kind of trouble he was in and how he could help. 

He skimmed over the other texts. There seemed to be a common misconception that he had gotten himself into some shady business and now was taken - it was pretty funny, if he were to be honest. He texted back to some people that he actually gave a shit about - which weren’t plenty, really - and ignored the rest. Abbie would take care of the town gossip, and even if she couldn’t - hell, who cared?

Harley fell into a routine in the next few days. He would have breakfast, then he would go down to the lab and fool around with whatever project Tony had left lying around. Tony would usually call him to his suite in the late afternoon. He would be in a three-piece and tired from running around doing God knows what the whole day, but he would still press Harley to tell him about his day and how he was feeling. They would watch TV a little, Harley would try not to stare at the alcohol cabinet, Tony would pretend not to notice.

Nothing really changed till Saturday afternoon. Harley was washing the dishes since Tony had made the casserole - Tony cooked now, talk about a surprise - when the man offhandedly said that they would leave that night.

“Wait, where are we going?” Harley asked confusedly.

“To the city. You know, where I own a tower?” Tony said, looking equally confused. “Did you think we were going to stay here?”

“I - yeah?”

“This was a convenient spot to land the jet and I needed to get some things done about the Accords - we have the meetings with the UN in here. I also thought that it might not be the best idea to grab you from Rose Hill and bring you to a big, loud city while you were a hot mess - no offense.”

“None taken, I guess? When do we leave?” Harley asked, voice suddenly strained.

Tony looked at his ridiculously expensive looking watch and shrugged. “We can leave once you’re done with the dishes,” he decided. His eyes lingered on Harley’s trembling hands. “You need help?”

“No, just -” The soapy plate slipped out of his hold and crashed loudly into the sink, cracking. “Shit.” He pressed the heel of his hands over his eyes, taking shaky breaths. Blood rushed to his ears, mixing with the sound of running water.

“It’s all right, kid,” was saying Tony. His calloused hands wrapped around Harley’s wrists and uncovered his eyes. “It’s fine, go sit on the couch, okay? I got this.”

Harley ripped his arms free from the man’s grip and went to sit on the couch, feeling like a real piece of shit. He couldn’t even clean up his own mess. Why the hell had his ma’ had made him in the first place, anyway? He was no good. He was just a burden - a burden to his family, a burden to Tony…

His hands curled into fists as his anger at himself and his nails dug into his palm.

“Tony, you need to let me go,” he said.

Tony froze, back still turned to Harley as water kept running. 

“You need to let me go,” Harley repeated. “I can’t - I can’t do this, I was fine in Tennessee, I was handling my shit, now I can’t wash a fucking plate without breaking it.”

Silence hung in the air then, choking him. Tony took his time as he dried the other plate. Then he turned around, leaning against the counter.

“That’s because you’re a high functioning alcoholic,” he said simply. “As long as you keep drinking at night, it looks like you can manage. And you think, why quit? There seems to be absolutely no side effect. And there isn’t one, for a while - it doesn’t seem like there is - but when you realise there is, it’s already too late. You would be breaking plates by throwing them at the walls during arguments if you kept going. I know I have - hell, I’ve done worse. Don’t give up so soon. It’s gonna get worse before it gets better, Harley.”

*

They drove to New York in a black, sleek car with rock music playing quietly in the background. City lights started to appear after a couple hours, shining in the dark like stars on earth. Harley had never seen anything like it. He couldn’t help but stare in awe as they delved deeper in the city.

The streets were more lively than anywhere Harley had seen. Throbbing light called people in stores and bars, and a steady stream of people of all kinds poured off the sidewalks. With the traffic jams, it still took them a good forty five minutes to arrive at the Tower.

The Tower… The sheer size of it would make Harley’s jaw drop if he were the same excitable boy he used to be. It was in stark contrast with everything Harley grew up surrounded with - big, modern and sleek in a way that reminded him of sci-fi movies. 

They made their way to one of the top floors without encountering anyone. Tony led him into a corridor where all the other doors were closed with a sombre expression.  Harley stopped dead in his tracks in front of the doors. Unlike others, the handle was gone on this one, and instead of a gaping hole, there was just the smooth surface. There was no way someone could get in… unless they could use magic or walk through walls.

“These rooms belonged to the Avengers,” he stated flatly. Tony, who was walking two steps ahead, halted in place. Harley could see how he squared his shoulders, how his pinky finger twitched.

“They did,” he confirmed. “Come on, your room is down the hall.”

*

Harley woke up with flames dancing behind his eyelids and a knot in his chest. The sky was still a darker shade of blue. He reached for his phone to check the time only to find out it was still 6 a.m. He briefly entertained the idea of going back to sleep, but the heat of the fire was still too bright in his mind. He crawled out of his bed and made his way to the bedroom.

Scorching hot water cleansed his skin as he stared bitterly at all the stainless steel and white marble around. He would have to work his ass off his whole life for a quarter of these luxuries, and here, they just remained unused, collecting dust. 

He grabbed a cup of black coffee from the kitchen - there seemed to be a common room right before the elevator, which was probably quite lively in the day, but now sat empty and sad. He descended to Tony’s personal lab, where the man had said he would leave something for Harley to work on. FRIDAY let him in through the glass doors, and Harley would probably been in awe of all the high tech, if something else hadn’t caught his attention: a kid in a flannel shirt, bent over some test tubes.

“Who the hell are you?”

Chapter Text

“Who the hell are you?” Harley demanded. The kid startled, nearly dropping one of the tubes.

“I - who are you? This is Mr. Stark’s personal lab,” the boy said, taking in Harley’s relaxed posture and the sweats he was wearing.

“Exactly. Tony gave me permission to be here, but he didn’t say I might find it occupied,” Harley retorted with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m his personal intern, I have blanket permission. I, uh, sometimes stop by before leaving for school.”

Harley blinked once, twice. “It’s 6 in the mornin’.”

The boy seemed thrown off. “Uh, yes?”

“So you wake up at five a.m., give or take, get here, do whatever you do, then you go to school?”

“Yeah, so?” He was starting to get defensive, Harley remarked. He raised his free hand in surrender.

“Hey, good for you man, I’m just shocked by the motivation. You go off do whatever you were doing, and I’m gonna… FRIDAY, what am I doing?”

“The table to your left, Harley. Boss wanted you to work on the gauntlet,” she replied. Harley wasn’t still sure whether she liked him, it was impossible to tell from her tone. Nevertheless, he thanked her politely before settling down, popping his earphones in and getting to work. Tony had stuck a post-it on the gauntlet of an Iron Man armor, asking him to try and fix an issue with the joints.

“Hey,” said the intern’s voice, annoyingly seeping through his music, “you didn’t tell me who you are?”

“I’m Tony’s illegitimate son,” Harley replied dismissively, eyes never leaving the gauntlet. The intern gave a shocked yelp, and Harley tuned him out.

*

Harley remembered the smell of smoke the most. It had burned his eyes, his lungs. He wasn’t sure if his tears were because of the smoke or the guilt. The house was ablaze. Mrs. Turner, the old lady who owned it, let it happen with slumped shoulders and glazed eyes. His stomach churned. He was responsible for this. 

Mr. Turner was still at work. He would rush home soon. All his memories, his home would be burned to the ground. He would have nowhere to go. He, his wife and his grandson would probably never be able to afford another house. Harley thought of the dingy residences in the next town, shoeboxes that dared to call themselves apartments stacked over one another. He thought of how Mrs. Turner’s hands would tremble as she helped unpack boxes of whatever could be salvaged. It didn’t look like it would be much.

The roof caved in with a thunderous crash.

Harley couldn’t even rush to a trash can before he started throwing up.

*

The next day greeted Harley with a horrible headache. His jaw ached - he had been grinding his teeth in his sleep again. Again, really? he thought as sunlight assaulted his eyes. The thought of going through motions for yet another day was just… torture. It felt like lead was sloshing inside his bones, pressing him down to the mattress. 

He stared at the ceiling with his hands over his stomach till FRIDAY informed him that it was once again 10 a.m. and he was expected in the labs. He had the sudden urge to tell her to go fuck herself, but deemed it unwise since she could revoke his access to every bathroom in the tower in a petty countermove and he really, really needed to pee sometime soon. He kept silent and didn’t move. The pressure on his bladder kept increasing with every passing moment, but he just didn’t have it in himself to get up. FRIDAY kept chiming in every ten minutes to remind him of the time with increasing irritation in her voice. Harley kept staring at the white ceiling. 

Someone knocked on his door at 11 a.m. and didn’t wait for an answer before inviting themselves in. Fucking FRIDAY, he thought to himself, unknowing and uncaring if the AI could read minds as well.

“Harley?” 

The gentle voice belonged to a woman. He finally tore his eyes away to look at the source, which turned out to be no other than Virginia Potts herself. She looked incredibly out of place in her white suit and perfectly styled hair in Harley’s depression den. She didn’t seem bothered, though, judging by the lack of disgust on her face. 

Harley suddenly realised what he looked like. He stank of sweat from trashing all night, having nightmares; his curls were matted against his forehead. His months-old dark circles and paleness probably hadn’t disappeared overnight, too.

Oh well. 

He slowly sat up, grimacing as the pressure shifted and reminded him the urgent need to go pee. She watched him with a neutral expression.

“What can I do for you, Miss Potts?” he said, accent heavier than usual with morning gruffness. 

“FRIDAY alerted me about your refusal to leave the bed since Tony was busy. I thought I could come check on you. So the question is, what can I do for you, Harley?”

He stared, dumbfounded. The corner of her lip twitched as if she was suppressing a smile. 

“Miss,” he said slowly, “are you aware that you are the CEO of a multibillion company and I’m a high school dropout?”

Her eyebrows climbed up, amusement disappearing from her face. “I am aware of my occupation, I wasn’t aware that you had dropped out though. But that’s a conversation for later. Come on, get up. You’re taking a shower and I’m taking you to brunch.”

One couldn’t simply say no to Virginia Potts herself, so under her assessing gaze, he crawled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom.

*

The place where they came for brunch wasn’t a high end restaurant like Harley expected, and he was glad for it. Instead, it was a cute little cafe, and the employees didn’t seem phased to see the Virginia Potts with a random teenager. He thought that maybe she came here often with the intern kid. A bitter taste flooded his mouth, not unlike the one when she saw Abbie doing better than him. 

A cute girl around his age served them pancakes and bacon in true American fashion and filled their cups with coffee. Without prompting, Miss Potts ordered orange juice and eggs for Harley as well, telling him that he needed the nutrients. He cracked a smile for her. 

The conversation flowed easier than Harley expected. Miss Potts didn’t ask him about school or family or his progress, instead talked about what food she liked best, her love for cooking, her other hobbies. Her guilty pleasure was reading cheesy romance novels. 

“Don’t let Tony in on that, he’s not scared of me enough as it is,” she said with a teasing tone.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he replied, feeling like they were at the beginning of something good. 

Chapter Text

It was nearing 1 p.m. when they came back to the tower. Miss Potts pulled him aside in the lobby. “Keeping busy is a good way to get your mind off of things,” she said with a kind smile. “You’re more than welcome to join me in my meetings today. I know your expertise is mostly mechanics, but I could always use another bright mind in the room.”

He considered it. Going up to his room and spending the day there sounded slightly appealing, but he knew it would make him feel like shit. The thought of going down to the lab felt like a dreadful chore. At the end, he gave an affirming nod.

*

The suit Pepper had given to Harley was a light blue three piece with a white shirt and no tie. It made him look like a bratty rich kid in his opinion, but Pepper had assured him it looked great as she dabbled concealer on his eyebags. He knew that she could see his clammy hands shaking from withdrawal and nerves, but thankfully she didn’t mention it.

The first meeting was uneventful. The people in the meeting weren’t all old, white men like he had expected - instead, they were mostly middle aged, professional but friendly. It turned out that they were the executives of different departments of SI. “These meetings are weekly check ups,” she explained once it was dismissed, “there usually isn’t any problem that requires my direct attention, but better safe than sorry, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Are we going to another meeting now?”

“Yeah, I think you might find this one a little… less tame. We’ll be negotiating with a mining company.”

“For raw materials?”

“Exactly. Tony wants SI to get into that industry as well to be self-sufficient, but then we would be stretched too thin, so another meeting it is.”

He gave a noncommittal hum. He realised that he didn’t really feel like going to meetings anymore. He felt out of place in this fancy suit, trailing after a CEO like he had any right to be here. He thought of other people with actual college diplomas, people who deserved to be here but couldn’t be, because… Because Harley had stolen their spot.

The floor tilted under his feet, and the pancakes threatened to make a reappearance. He took a deep breath. He pictured the envelope Tony had waved in front of his face tantalisingly. He was doing this for Abbie. This wasn’t about him.

He had it under control.

Fortunately, Miss Potts hadn’t realised his discomfort. She was walking a few steps ahead, talking on the phone with someone. He couldn’t handle her worried gaze picking him apart, or worse, her telling him he was wasting her time. His mind felt like it was kept together by delicate threads that could break apart at the slightest nudge - but this wasn’t that moment.

“Are you good to go, Harley?” she asked, finally done with her call.

The envelope. Abbie. MIT website on their laptop.

“Yeah.”

*

These numbers are wrong, Harley thought to himself as he discreetly looked over the papers.

It was a much different meeting than the first. Everything else was settled, apparently, and they just needed to smooth things out and tie the deal. They were sitting on relatively uncomfortable couches around a low coffee table, teams of four on each side.

Harley had just silently observed as Miss Potts argued her way into the most profitable deal for SI, and as everyone else enjoyed their expensive coffees before moving onto the signatures, he had grabbed the wad of paper just for the hell of it. He thought nothing of it at first, he simply skimmed over the tiny writings. But then, he had seen that there was a higher profit for the mining company than what had been discussed. Still, he was only an untrained eye - maybe he was making a mistake any business major would laugh at.

“Miss Potts?”

The other CEO was trying to chat up Miss Potts’s personal assistant, so she was free to talk. She let out an affirmative hum and turned her attention to Harley.

“Is there a reason why these percentages might not match up with the numbers there?” he queried silently, sounding almost apologetic.

“Let me see,” she demanded and grabbed the papers. Her eyes flitted over the contents, her brows furrowing every passing second.

“No,” she said gravely, “there isn’t. Thank you, Harley.”

What happened next was probably in the top five coolest things he witnessed in his life. Miss Potts chewed the other CEO out for trying to trick them, confiscated all their deals effective immediately and berated the man so hard that every other person in the room seemed to suffer from second hand embarrassment.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. They took a break and retreated into Miss Potts’ office, and he played Candy Crush on his phone as she worked on her laptop. At one point, she got onto a video call and spoke Japanese with no sign of struggle.

It was nearing 6.30 by the time she hung up. A lull of silence made Harley realise how close to sleep he was. He had practically melted into the comfy chair he was sitting on, staring at the wall. She let out a laugh as he tried to blink the sleep away.

“Coffee?”

“Please,” he croaked out.

Once her assistant brought two cups and left she turned her attention on him. For the first time that day, he felt the urge to squirm under her sharp gaze.

“So. Harley.”

“Miss Potts?”

“I have a proposition for you. I want you to be my personal intern.”

He gaped at her. “ ‘Scuse me?”

She simply raised her eyebrows, waiting for it to sink in.

“I don’t understand. There are probably hundreds of Harvard graduates that would kill for that position. Why me?”

“What’s stopping you from becoming one of them?”

Harley blinked at her. Then he let out a bitter chuckle. Miss Potts had made the mistake of overestimating him. It must have been easy to forget not everyone was smart when one spent their life surrounded by CEO’s and genius engineers. Harley? Getting into Harvard? It wasn’t even funny. Yet, he could feel that turning down such a proposal would be foolish.

“Miss Potts, I… I’m not as capable as you believe me to be. I could get into an all right college if I go back to school, but I’m no SI material.”

“Well,” she said, sounding contemplative, “Tony’s intern is a high schooler. He started training Peter early, and the internship is practically a door opener for any college. It’s a win-win for both sides, and I don’t see why we can’t do the same. Besides, Tony won’t let you drop out for good if I know him. And, Harley, stop selling yourself so short - you’re plenty smart.”

He wanted to protest, but couldn’t come up with a reasonable argument. Still, it felt wrong to accept a position he didn’t deserve.

“Can I… think about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, her gaze softening. “Take your time.”

*

Dinner was uneventful. Miss Potts had excused herself after their little chat, and Tony was occupied with some classified Avengers business according to FRIDAY. He ordered some takeout with the sleek credit card someone had conveniently left in his room and ate as he watched dumb videos on his phone.

He felt caged and restless that evening. There was a buzz in the back of his mind, like he was failing to see something, something important; but he couldn’t figure it out. After a few hours of pacing around the room, he realised he wasn’t actually restricted from leaving the tower. A walk around the town sounded like a good idea - he had never been in a big town, and it surely had more distractions to offer than Rose Hill could ever hope to have.

The moment he stepped out of the building, a weight in his chest dissipated. He turned his face to the sky. There were no stars. Bustling crowds were running around the city, a constant buzz of conversations filling the air. He, Harley Keener, was insignificant here. He could just… disappear and nobody would know. He felt small. He felt like he could dare to exist here, carving out a place to fit in, rather than trying and failing to fill the role that was carved for him the moment his dad walked out.

New York was so much different than Rose Hill. Rose Hill meant humid, stifling air that the locals breathed down his neck. It meant not being able to look at his sister’s face because he was jealous of her ability to be better at everything. Rose Hill meant lying through his teeth about who he was, it meant looking at the ruins of a burned house and barely keeping himself from falling apart. Yet here, he was nobody. No memories. No expectations.

It was liberating.

Chapter Text

“Come here,” he whispered, reaching for the other boy. 

Jamie smiled, that shy little smile he reserved for Harley. His dark curls grazed Harley’s cheeks as he reached down for a kiss. 

They kissed slowly, calmly. Jamie always calmed Harley, helped him contain the jittery energy always overtaking him. Harley could almost say he loved Jamie for it.

Almost.

*

“I don’t think she knows what she’s doing,” a man was saying into his phone, walking fastly. Everyone was so fast in this city, always in a hurry. Harley could see himself blending in smoothly, once. 

Jamie wouldn’t like it here, though.

He shook his head, willing himself to not think about him. He would never see Jamie again. It was for the best.

Harley stood up from the bench he had been stationed at for the past hour, enjoying the early morning light. He had to make a decision about Miss Potts’s offer today. Even though she had told him to take his time, it was just plain rude to keep her hanging. 

Accepting it meant saving his future and Abbie’s, if he could be successful. He had to be smart, he had to read and learn so he would know what was being said in those meetings. He had to shake off the haze that had settled over him and regain his cocky, confident past self. He couldn’t afford to seem meek if he was to do this. 

But how long would he stay here? As far as he could tell, Tony and Miss Potts never intended for him to go back home. Tony wanted him to stay until he pulled himself together, which meant he would be enrolling Harley to a local high school soon. And Miss Potts wouldn’t have made the offer if she thought that he would leave New York for college. After that, he would be intended for a position in SI, surely. 

Fuck, Tony had really dragged his ass to New York for good, hadn’t he?

He was a grown ass man - surely Tony wouldn’t chain him here if he wanted to leave. He would shout at him, and Miss Potts would look disappointed, but would wish him well. But what expected him back home, anyway? The garage, his concerned but resigned family, and a burned down house that invaded his nightmares. 

In the end, the choice was clear. 

Fifteen minutes later, he was at the CEO’s door with two cups of black coffee and two lemon muffins - the type she mentioned liking. Her assistant let him in without hussle.

“Oh, Harley! Come on in,” Miss Potts said, perking up. 

“Hi Miss Potts,” he greeted, leaving her share to a bare corner of the desk. The rest was covered in papers - she was clearly busy. “I won’t take much of your time, but I wanted to tell you I accept your offer, if it’s still available.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “And it’s available, of course. Come on, sit down. Eat with me, God knows I need a break.”

He settled on a chair and took a sip from his coffee. The smell helped him wake up a bit.

“So, I hope you know Tony wants you to enroll in Peter's school?”

“Intern kid?”

“Yes, him. Did you meet?”

Harley cringed. “I was a bit of an ass to him.”

Miss Potts sighed. “I think you can redeem it, he’s a sweet boy. You don’t have to be best friends, but you’ll be seeing each other pretty often for a long time.”

She bit into her muffin, then made an affirming noise. “Did you get these from the cafe in the corner?”

He nodded. “They’re pretty good, right? These were the last ones, apparently the owner was saving them for himself but I flirted with the server so she sold them to me.” 

“You’re lucky I’m not a slave driver, or else all your internship would be spent bringing me these,” she teased, shaking her coffee cup a little. 

“Don’t worry Miss Potts, I’ll bring them to you anyway,” he replied with a curl of his lips.

They chatted easily for the next ten minutes as they drained their cups, then Miss Potts ushered him out, telling that Tony would meet him at Midtown High at half past eleven for enrollment. A man in a suit met him at the door and drove him to Queens in silence.

Tony was waiting for him at the gate, leaning against yet another one of his luxury cars. Harley left the car with a mumbled thanks to the driver and walked towards the man. 

“Well, don’t you look excited,” Tony said dryly, and laughed when Harley flipped him the bird. “Let’s go, they’re waiting for us.”

“They” turned out to be the principal - an Asian man called Morita. He hummed and nodded as Tony told him how talented and friendly Harley was, how he would fit right in, how his intern Peter would help him ease into this new school - all lies, of course, not that Harley cared. It appeared to do the trick, and half an hour later he walked out as a student of Midtown School of Science and Technology. 

The driver was still waiting outside, but Tony waved a dismissive hand at him and the man drove away. “Come on,” he said, clapping Harley on the shoulder, “I’ll drive you. Do you wanna stop at a drive-in? We’re stopping at a drive-in.”

They passed by the streets, driving at the speed limit with rock music boosting from the speakers; the bass going straight to Harley’s bones. It felt somehow fitting, like the earthquake called Tony Stark was shaking him just like he shook and broke his life apart. 

He was grateful, or at least he would be. Objectively speaking, Tony had gotten him out of Tennessee, had saved him from a swiftly developing alcohol problem, had enrolled him to one of the best schools in the East Coast and would save his and his sister’s future. Objectively speaking, Tony had fixed every major problem in his life like a fucking fairy godmother. 

It didn’t mean he didn’t miss his friend Scott, or Abbie, or his ma’. It didn’t mean he didn’t miss working in the garage with Mickey and the guys. It didn’t mean he didn’t have to tell himself that slitting his wrists was a bad idea. And it certainly didn’t mean he didn’t want a drink so bad sometimes that he nearly throttled anyone who dared to come near him.

*

He heard it from Jenny Macmiller, of all people.

“Don’t you know? They saw Jamie Turner kissing a boy yesterday, under the bleachers. They didn’t see who it was, though, he had his hood up or something. It’s a shame, really. Poor Jamie, they’re gonna turn his life into a nightmare.”

And it was Harley, who had his hood up. It was Harley, who had lucked out. But it didn’t feel like it. They had been stupid, and now people knew.

Harley didn’t dare expose himself in an act of solidarity, and Jamie told him he didn’t resent Harley for it. Suddenly Jamie was a pariah - people tended to avoid you if you were being bullied by the alpha males of the school. Of course, the question of his partner was still a hot topic, and most of his male friends vanished into thin air. 

It got to a head when the rumors reached town and the Turners defended their grandson instead of shaming him. Most people started to avoid the family, then. Yet it was okay. Jamie had plans to go to college in another state - he hadn’t decided yet, being on the track team for the past four years meant that he had a good shot at scholarships. 

Then, it wasn’t okay. It only took one lunatic to burn the Turner house down, to “purge the sin out of the town”. 

Jamie never spoke to Harley again.