Chapter Text
"Done."
"Are you serious?"
"Yep." Tony took a triumphant sip of his coffee and turned around to face Obi smugly.
"You're kidding. There's no way you could have done it that fast."
"Just did."
"Let me see."
Tony gestured with an open hand and Obi stepped up to the computer to verify that Tony had really completed the dare. He took way longer than he actually needed to; Tony suspected he spent most of it just trying to believe his eyes.
"This is ridiculous," he grumbled.
"What? The fact that it was so easy?"
"Shut up."
Tony rolled his eyes, wishing his dad's meeting would end sooner so Mr. Stane would take Obi home with him. Whenever the two had official meetings together, they shoved their kids into the same room and told them basically the teenage equivalent of "Play nice." Most of the time, they just complained about some of their more annoying peers or tedious calc homework. Stark and Stane dreamed that they'd hand their positions in the company over to their sons one day and they'd continue to be good friends and business partners, but if Tony had his way he'd never interact with Obi ever again.
"Are you going to get in trouble for this?" Obi asked.
"Nah. I covered my tracks. They can't trace it to here."
"You're insane."
"You're the one who dared me to do it."
"I didn't think you'd actually accept it!"
"What can I say? I like a challenge."
"If you really did like a challenge, you'd man up and ask Maya out."
"What?" Tony turned back to the computer and pulled up a random document to pretend to work with, anything to avoid looking Obi in the eye during this conversation. He was irrationally convinced that Tony liked this girl in their bio class, when in reality Tony only wanted to talk to her because she was easily the smartest in the class and he regrettably struggled with the "squishier" sciences like biology. He wanted to get into her study group, not her pants.
"You know who I'm talking about."
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure she's with Killian."
"That asshole? No way he scored her."
"They're together all the time."
"Just because they were lab partners one time doesn't mean they're together."
"No, but when they're no longer lab partners and still spend every second of their time together and making goo-goo eyes at each other, it usually means they're together."
"I'm sure if you made the right moves she'd dump him for you."
"Even if that were true, that doesn't mean I want her to."
"What about Christine then?"
"You mean Vanity Fair?" The girl had earned that nickname because of her obviously dyed blonde hair and undeniable self-absorption. Tony had never been less attracted to a person in his life, and he failed to understand why Obi thought he was interested when Tony literally went out of his way to avoid the girl.
"Is that what they call her?"
"Yeah. You've never heard that before?" Tony knew Obi could be shockingly ignorant of the goings-on at their school.
"Maybe. I don't know."
"Obadiah! Let's go!" Mr. Stane called from upstairs. Tony failed to disguise his sigh of relief, but fortunately Obi didn't seem to notice it.
"Later Tony," he grumbled as he marched up the stairs.
"Bye." God, the meeting had only lasted two hours but it had felt more like six. Tony shut down all the equipment in the lab and waited another five minutes just to make sure Obi and Mr. Stane hadn't lingered in the lobby to say an extended farewell to his father. Then he made his way upstairs and took the elevator back up to the penthouse, exhausted from feigning friendliness. He passed Mom sitting on the sofa with a book on the way to his bedroom.
"Did Obadiah leave?"
"Yes," Tony said flatly.
"Have you finished your homework?"
"Yup."
"Good night then."
"Good night."
It was only eight o'clock, but both Tony and his mother knew that once he retreated to his room for the night he was unlikely to show his face again. Tony sat down on the edge of his bed and flopped onto his back to gaze blankly at the ceiling. A strange spike of pain drove through his chest and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He'd finished his homework within an hour after school ended because it was all so easy and forced himself through that interaction with Obi by holding himself together with willpower and deeply-ingrained manners alone. Hopefully when he went off to college he'd have a chance to make real friends.
~0~
The next day, his dad dragged him along to a Stark Industries press conference. That's why he and Mr. Stane had been meeting last night; to finalize details for today. Tony didn't want to go. He never did, but today even less so. As he changed from his sleep clothes into his suit, an overwhelming fatigue washed over him. For the past week or so, he'd been feeling off, but never this drastically. A slight pressure made itself known in his chest, so he drank a glass of water to try and loosen it. It helped, but only a little.
"Dad, are you sure I need to be there?" Tony asked. He asked this same question almost every press conference, trying to wheedle his way out of it just because, but this time he actually doubted he could survive it.
"Yes," Howard said without even turning to look at him. "The people need to see that you're participating, or they won't accept you when you take over the company."
Tony rolled his eyes. His father presented that same explanation every time he asked why he needed to come to press conferences. He didn't even do anything, just sat there two seats away from his father and tried not to look too bored. Apparently, his presence there was crucial to the public handling the transition of power when Howard Stark retired or died. Since he never even spoke the word retirement, Tony assumed he'd inherit the company only after his father died. So he saw no reason to attend stupid press conferences and shit at this age. His inheritance of the company was decades away.
Tony nodded hello to Obi, here with his father on the left side of the table. He faked a smile at a few reporters who looked his direction and took his seat, which didn't even have a microphone. Howard took his seat front and center and plastered on his 'publicity face.' Tony resigned himself to a very boring hour.
Around the ten-minute mark, the strange sensation in his chest worsened. Tony tried to rub it away without drawing too much attention to himself, but it didn't help. He glanced at the clock and willed the hands to move faster. His father's words blurred into meaningless chatter in his head, almost drowned out by the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Tony knew something wasn't right.
He survived the press conference, but when he moved to stand up at the end his vision tunneled. Tony blinked and woke up on the floor, having apparently missed the chair on his way down. Obadiah's dad was the first one by his side. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"Think so," Tony muttered, working his way back to standing. His back hurt from hitting the ground and his head was spinning, but he didn't think he was in immediate danger of passing out again.
"What happened?" Howard asked flatly, glancing furtively between Tony and the crowd of reporters now staring at the inventor's son.
"I think I just stood up too fast," Tony said. "I'm fine."
"Let's get you some water," Mr. Stane said. He helped Tony to his feet and kept an arm around his shoulders as they left the room. Tony rubbed at his chest some more to try and dissipate the lingering weirdness and accepted the cup of water from Mr. Stane.
"This is going to be all over the news," he heard his father mutter. Tony wanted to punch him. That should probably not be his main concern in this situation, but frankly it wasn't surprising that it was. The fact that Tony was there in the first place proved how much is father prioritized public image. Like a child, he wanted his mom. Tony did not feel good and he knew she'd at least have some genuine caring to offer him. By the time they got home, his desperation and his symptoms had lessened, but he still sought her out immediately.
"What's wrong?" she asked, sensing his distress.
"He fainted at the end of the press conference," Howard said with practiced detachment.
"You fainted? Did you hit your head?"
"No."
"Do you know why you fainted?"
Tony shook his head. She put a hand to his forehead, but Tony knew she wouldn't feel any heat. He'd had fevers before from run-of-the-mill viruses and knew this was something different. But as to what it was, he had no idea.
"What did you feel like before you fainted?" she asked.
Tony shrugged. "A little dizzy. And my chest felt weird."
She frowned and put two fingers to the pulse point on his neck. "I think we should take you to the doctor."
"Okay," Tony sighed.
The doctor spent only a few moments with his stethoscope pressed to Tony's chest before he decided to send him home with a heart monitor he needed to wear for forty eight hours straight. Tony didn't think too much of it, except for the annoyance of not being able to shower for that time. His symptoms abated to barely noticeable, and by the end of the two days Tony was convinced this whole thing was overkill and the incident at the press conference had been nothing more than a passing phenomenon.
When he returned to the doctor to look at the results, though, he was proven wrong. He pointed out all the times Tony's heart beat an abnormal rhythm, which was very, very many. Mom, who insisted on accompanying him to the appointment, audibly gasped when the doctor finally said the fateful word: "Arrhythmia." At this point, it wasn't too concerning, but they wanted an electrophysiology study done to determine its cause and the course of action from here. It didn't sound too daunting, but then Tony actually learned what it entailed.
Mom drove him to an honest-to-God hospital where they sedated him and threaded a catheter through a vein in his groin to send electrical impulses directly to his heart and measure its baseline activity and reaction to stimulus. Tony drifted in and out of consciousness throughout, but on the threshold of a baseline state of panic at being in this situation. He could physically feel his heartbeat speeding up and slowing down and it freaked him out to know that they had such control over a vital organ.
When it was over, they took him to a recovery room and made him lie completely flat for four hours to prevent bleeding at the catheter sight. Those were some of the worst hours of Tony's life. The sedative faded from his system enough that he was fully aware of how uncomfortable and bored he was. As the third hour bled into the fourth, he realized he needed to pee but instead of urgency he just felt pain. And pissed. He was just generally pissed off at the whole situation.
When he finally got to stand up, he went straight to the bathroom, and then home to sleep off the rest of the sedative. At his follow-up appointment, they had no concrete information on the cause of his arrhythmia, but they had a prescription for him and loads of advice. Most of it was basic "Live a healthy lifestyle" shit, except for one part: no caffeine. Tony wanted to object, but his mother silenced him without a word.
"How am I supposed to do high school without coffee?" he protested. School started in just over a week.
"You'll manage," Mom said conclusively.
Tony grumbled under his breath, but didn't argue. He entrusted Mom to relay his diagnosis and instructions to his father. Ever since the press conference, he'd been in Afghanistan on business, so he knew nothing of the goings-on with Tony's health. He got back this morning just before Tony and his mother left for the hospital. Tony started to march straight to his room to be alone, but then he heard the tone of Mom's voice as she approached Howard. Something about it intrigued Tony, so he paused just around the corner to listen in.
"Howard, I have to tell you what's been going on with Tony."
He didn't even respond verbally, just grunted to indicate that he was listening.
"He has an arrhythmia. They couldn't figure out exactly what's causing it, but they put him on medication that they think will help."
"So he's really…sick?" Never in his sixteen years of life had Tony heard his father sound so heartbroken. It didn't make any sense whatsoever. Was he really that distraught over learning his son and heir was less than perfect?
"It's just an abnormal heart rhythm. He's going to be fine," she assured.
"You're sure?" His voice sounded shaky with an emotion Tony couldn't identify. He presumed it was concern for the future of Stark Industries. Was he hallucinating or was Howard's breathing audible—and audibly distressed?
"Yes."
Tony itched to walk back into the kitchen to see what was going on, but he restrained himself from interrupting this private moment. Instead, he walked away, hoping that if his father really cared about this issue he'd come find Tony to talk about it. He waited for an hour, then two, then seventy two, but still his father never approached. If anything, he grew more distant than ever. If having a heart condition didn't make Howard pay attention to him, Tony doubted anything ever would.
~0~
Tony waltzed into his calculus class and sat down with a huff. Somehow the short walk from history had left him breathless. He attributed it to the mere two hours of sleep he'd gotten last night. Not that he'd intended to stay up, he just got distracted and by the time he realized he should probably be asleep it was three in the morning. Tony pulled out his notebook and prepared to fake his way through another lecture. It wasn't that he didn't respect Dr. Yinsen as a teacher, but he simply didn't see the point in paying attention. He practically knew it all already. In fact, the only reason he was even in high school was because his father refused to let him skip grades, insisting it would jeopardize the normalcy of his childhood—as if being the son of the CEO of a massive weapons manufacturing company didn't do that already. Howard had fought back every time Tony's teachers suggested bumping him up. Tony didn't much care, knowing he'd be bored either way, but now that he'd endured six months of junior year, he realized he probably would rather be in college now. Heck, if he'd really worked at his own pace he probably could have graduated by now. As it stood, he was stuck here for another year.
"Hey Tony," an overly exuberant voice greeted. Tony grumbled as the number one reason for his wishing he was already in college took the seat next to him. They'd been allowed to choose their own seats on the first day, and Tony had sat in the back corner, not realizing this kid was also in the class. He'd tried to move when he walked in the door and made a beeline for the seat next to Tony, but there was no way he could have played it off casually. So, he was stuck sitting next to Justin Hammer for the rest of the year—or at least until Dr. Yinsen reassigned them.
"I heard through the grapevine that you hacked into the Pentagon last summer," Justin attempted to whisper. The astonishment in his voice ensured it came out much louder.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Shhh, don't go blabbing about it."
"Right. Sorry. I don't want to get you arrested or anything."
"How kind of you," Tony remarked, failing to keep the sarcasm from his tone.
"I'll shut up about it, I promise, but I just want to say that I think that's super cool."
Tony scooted his chair ever so slightly to the right so he could no longer feel Justin's breath on his neck. He begged the bell to hurry up and ring already so Dr. Yinsen could start teaching. Fortunately, he only had to wait another minute. Tony tuned out as soon as he started talking, occasionally glancing at the whiteboard to feign attentiveness while really just sketching schematics in his notebook. For the past few days he'd been messing with ideas for efficient power sources. He completely lost track of time, made worse by the faint dizziness that spiked every time he looked up. Did he take his medication that morning? Yes, definitely. Tony remembered swallowing the pills with a swig of tepid tap water before dashing out the door, and they'd been perfectly effective at keeping his heart in rhythm since he started on them back in August. Maybe this funny feeling was just because he skipped breakfast. Yeah, that was it.
Dr. Yinsen finished the lesson part of the class early to hand back their exams from last week. Tony knew he'd be last because of the route Dr. Yinsen always took around the classroom. By the time he reached their row, Tony felt woozy enough to be nauseous, coupled with a strange sensation in his chest.
"Congratulations, Mr. Stark," Dr. Yinsen said as he held Tony's exam out towards him. Tony saw the large, circled "A+" at the top, but by the time he moved his hand to accept the paper the pain in his chest spiked and his vision blacked out.
~0~
He woke up in a hospital with a horrific ache in his chest and a headache exasperated by an obnoxious beeping off to his left. "What happened?" he asked aloud before even verifying that there was someone in the room with him to answer.
"You went into cardiac arrest at school." His mother's voice. She'd clearly been crying. "Dr. Yinsen performed CPR and called an ambulance and they brought you back."
Saved by a calculus teacher. How grand. Tony looked around, thinking maybe his father would make an appearance after he nearly died, but Howard was nowhere in sight. He didn't even bother asking Mom where he was. At this point, Tony didn't care about whether his father cared for him, he just wanted to go home.
"When can I go home?"
Mom's expression morphed into an indecipherable mask and she took Tony's hand. "Your heart rhythm is too chaotic. You need to be in a hospital where you can be monitored and quickly resuscitated if necessary. They're sending you to Gravesen…and they're putting you on the list for a heart transplant."
Great. His heart was too fucked up to even do its job. And they were sending him to a hospital whose name literally began with 'Grave?' It sounded like the most depressing place on the planet. Tony would rather spend a day locked in a room with Justin Hammer than a day at a place called Gravesen. But it seemed he had no choice.
Tony took a deep breath, trying not to let the fear for his life swell and overtake him completely. The idea of living out the foreseeable future in a hospital was mind-numbingly terrifying. He scrambled to think of anything that could make the situation less horrible, and ultimately landed on, "Can I bring Jarvis?"