Chapter Text
Tony slid the toy cars over the banister, pursing his lips as they caught an edge and careened over the side. He made a falling noise, crashing them into the hardwood floor and making small explosions sounds. There were imaginary people screaming and toy carnage everywhere. Tony groped behind him, grabbing his Captain America and Red Skull dolls and placed them in the middle of it all.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, trying for a deeper voice. The cars were tossed in the air and Tony laughed, going for maniacal. He frowned, tried again, and then continued to move everything around.
There was a crash, something that sounded almost like metal groaning, and a thick plume of smoke rose from beneath the stairwell Tony was perched on. He peered between the slats of the bannister, biting his lip. His father was known for blowing things up, known for causing all kinds of havoc. The first few times Tony had asked if he was okay, or if the house was going to explode, his father had coughed out an assurance and disappeared back into his lab. Recently however, Howard had ignored him, muttering quietly to himself as smoke curled ethereal around him. Tony wanted, desperately, to ask if his father was all right now, but knowing that, knowing he would probably just be brushed off, made him stare forlornly down at his Captain America doll.
“Dad’ll be okay, right?” He poked at the shield and stared down at the painted blue eyes. The doll didn’t answer. “You would protect him if he wasn’t, right? That’s what you do.”
He picked up the toys, rearranged the scene, and, just as he began to crash the cars again, the door downstairs slammed open. Tony jumped, staring down at a woman that limped in. Shiny crutches supported her, and her leg was wrapped in thick plaster to just below the knee. She glared around the mansion, bright red lips drawn down in a frown. She looked behind her, where Tony could see Jarvis helping with the luggage, and huffed out a sigh.
“Stark!” she bellowed, her voice bouncing around the empty mansion and giving it a small spark of life. Tony blinked, noting her accent. The woman hobbled in a few more steps, her brown hair swinging around her shoulders. “Stark, if you do not help me with this bloody luggage, I will burn down your lab. Do not think I won’t.”
A clash, followed by a curse, and Howard Stark stumbled out from beneath the stairs, goggles high on his forehead and white lab coat no longer white. Tony frowned down at them, watched the way his father stumbled slightly but stood up straight. The sickly sweet smell of whiskey curled around Tony and he hunkered down further, holding tight to Captain America and wondering just how badly his father was gone at the moment. The woman seemed nice; granted, most of the women dad brought home could be considered nice at first glance. His mother never talked about it and Tony stopped asking. The woman clicked her tongue and adjusted her crutches, reaching out a hand.
“Peggy!” His father bypassed her outstretched hand and gathered the woman in a hug. Tony bit his tongue in surprise. Hugging? What was happening? His father pulled back. “What are you doing here? I thought you were somewhere over the western seaboard.”
Peggy smiled, a tight quirk of her lips. “As you may have noticed, the mission didn’t end without a few injuries. I’ve been forced on leave. And since Maria cannot stop raving about her little boy, I thought I would come visit.”
“‘Little boy’?” Howard’s face twisted and Tony clutched at his doll. “Oh! You mean Tony. Yes. He’s – well, he’s somewhere around here, I’m sure. Tony!”
Tony startled, squirming backward amongst his cars. One of them careened over the edge, falling to the floor below with a clatter. He winced, wondering how quickly he could dash away to his room. His father would show him off if he went down there, like he usually did whenever new people came to visit. He would push Tony forward, ignore Tony’s uncomfortable fidgeting whenever he tried to shy away. The fear, the overwhelming urge to find his mother and hide behind her legs, had become a constant whenever Tony met new people. His father never allowed him the luxury, however.
“Tony! Come down here. I want you to meet someone,” his father called again. There were footsteps on the stairs, a quick one-two that had Tony scrambling to move. Howard’s hand snapped out and grabbed him by the collar. Tony tried to make himself smaller, curling around Captain America and hoping his father wouldn’t parade him around.
“Howard, stop with the theatrics. If the darling doesn’t want to meet me yet, don’t force him,” Peggy said and Tony peered past his father at her.
“Nonsense. Tony is fine; he’s just being a child.” Howard tugged at him. Tony bit his lip at the words, that familiar stab of insecurity shaking through him. He was pulled down the stairs and nudged forward by his father, put on display like a brand new piece of machinery. The two loomed above him and Tony looked at the floor.
“Hello, ducky,” Peggy said. She rearranged her crutches, wincing as she carefully kneeled down. He glanced up at her, did a quick scan of her face before looking back at the floor. Peggy continued, “My name is Peggy. What have you got there?”
She gestured at the doll clutched in Tony’s grip and Tony grinned, holding Cap up for inspection. “He’s Captain America! He protects people. I’m Tony.”
Smiling, Peggy tapped Tony on the nose. “That he does, love. Would you like to hear some stories about him?”
“Really?” Tony blinked at her, fidgeting under her gaze. She seemed incredibly kind. “I would. Please. I mean, did you know him?”
“Personally.”
“That’s so cool! Dad, can I –” Tony turned, but Howard was no longer there. He clutched at Cap, looking longingly at the entrance to the lab. He heard Peggy sigh behind him and wondered if she had been lying, if the thought of spending time with him now that his father had disappeared had been a ruse. He tried not to let it bother him.
“Well, Howard is certainly a fool. He used to enjoy the stories about Steve,” Peggy said. Tony turned and she was standing again, fidgeting with the crutches. “Shall we find the kitchen, ducky? I make a fantastic cocoa.”
“Really?” Tony said again, feeling his face flush. No one had ever just wanted to be around him without his father hovering. Peggy frowned.
“Of course. I promised you stories. Lead the way.” She gestured with her crutches and Tony smiled, wanting suddenly to grab her hand. He resisted the urge and shuffled away.
“This way.”
The kitchen was sprawling, excessively large and filled with a mixture of tried and untried tech. The refrigerator’s door had been mangled, wires popping out and curled together, the handle put back on sideways. Peggy eyed it and Tony bypassed it completely, grabbing one of the stools around the island. He crawled up on it, rocking back on the legs once before settling. The coffee machine gurgled something and Tony gurgled back, grinning when it beeped in surprise. Peggy raised an eyebrow and started moving around, leaning her crutches against the wall as she hobbled around. Tony pointed out where Cook kept most of the ingredients, and Peggy set about boiling milk and adding in various items. Tony carefully set Cap on the counter, bending his legs and allowing him a good view of the entire kitchen. He swung his feet and watched Peggy.
“Miss Peggy?” Tony called. Peggy turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “What happened to your leg?”
“‘Peggy’ is just fine, ducky. And I was in an accident. But,” she gestured with a wooden spoon, “I got them back for it. How do you like your cocoa?”
“I don’t – I’ve never had cocoa. Is it good?” he asked. Peggy blinked at him, surprise flickering over her features before she shook her head.
“Quite. Now, ducky, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”
Tony bit his lip, poking at Cap. Experience had taught him that people usually didn’t want to hear about little Tony Stark and his actual interests. They wanted to hear about how he managed to build a computer at such a young age, and whether or not he had anything else in the works as he neared his sixth birthday. They didn’t want to know that he liked playing with his toy cars and making up scenarios for Captain America to save the day. They didn’t want to know that he frequently drew pictures of a family that wasn’t his own, of a father that played with him and a mother that wasn’t afraid to show him affection.
He looked up at Peggy, caught the worry in her eyes and plastered on a smile. “I like to build computers. Robots. Circuitry. I’m really excited to play around with some of dad’s old things when I get a bit older.”
Peggy clicked her tongue, turning around to pull the pot off the stove. “And that is a bold faced lie, isn’t it?” She turned, smiling at Tony’s wide eyes. “You are young, Tony. About five, six? Yes, you may enjoy building and tinkering about with electronics – you are Howard’s son, after all – but I didn’t ask what Howard wants you to say about yourself, I asked what you want to say about yourself.” She poured the mixture into two tall mugs, adding extra snaps of chocolate. “Now, what were you saying?”
Tony flushed. “I – well, nobody wants to know what I like to do, I mean, it’s not amazing like when I made that computer. Or the plans dad wants me to bring up for my birthday.”
With a clatter, Peggy dropped the mug in front of Tony and sat across from him. “Well, I would like to hear about you, little Anthony Stark. What do you do for fun?”
“I don’t.” Tony bit his tongue and wrapped his fingers around the mug. Steam curled up and off and Tony took a tentative sip. “This is really good!”
“Don’t dodge the question, love,” Peggy chided.
“Well, I mean, I do like computers. And robots. I just, I like them when I can make what I want, like a robotic dog! I don’t like that I have to – to create things because everyone expects me to. Oh! And I like cars. And Captain America. Can I have more of this stuff?” Tony gulped down more cocoa, humming to himself. He dipped his fingers in and pressed them to Cap’s face, grinning. Peggy was smiling when he looked up.
“Of course. You seem to really enjoy the Captain. Why?”
Tony beamed. “I’ve heard all the big stories, like how he saved the world from HYDRA and how he was so brave when he was facing down mechanical things and monsters and oh! Dad used to talk about how he would throw his shield and it would bounce back and he would catch it and it was so cool, but dad doesn’t talk about it anymore and I always wonder why because he usually liked talking about Cap. He stopped after I –” Tony cut himself off, blinking down at the chocolate mustache he had managed to give Cap. He wiped it off with his thumb. “I just really love Cap. I know he’ll protect everyone, like he did before. He’s tried to protect me.”
Fingers brushed against his and he jerked back, startled. Peggy was watching him with soft eyes, but they sharpened at Tony’s abrupt movement. He steadied the stutter in his breath and carefully put his hands back on the counter, closer to Cap and his empty mug of cocoa. Peggy didn’t seem the sort to grab, or harm, but he had made that mistake before. He shifted in his seat and fiddled with Cap’s shield.
“And I’m sure he’s done a wonderful job,” Peggy said, drawing Tony’s attention. “But why would you need protecting?”
This was moving into dangerous waters. Tony scrubbed at his face, looked down at Cap and then back at Peggy. He tried on his best polite smile. “I’m sorry, Miss Peggy, I need to go work on things. Things that dad wants me to work on.” He hopped off the stool, scooping up Cap. “Have a good day.”
“Wait, Tony!”
But Tony was already scrambling out the door.
He didn’t see Peggy again until dinner the next night, when his mother marched him down the stairs. Low voices were talking in the dining hall and when he entered, they abruptly cut off. His hands felt empty without Cap in them.
“Evening, ducky,” Peggy called. Tony fidgeted and climbed into his seat, staring down at the table cloth. Mother had decided on the white cloth, with little inlays of blue and red. Tony wondered if his father had noticed and carefully traced a three into the designs.
“I’m just saying, Peggy,” Howard started. “We need to figure out the possible probabilities of having such power in our grasp. I know it’s not something you want to look into, I know it brings up all sorts of emotions and feelings that are, in all honesty, arbitrary, but I just need you to think.”
The first course was brought out, thick broccoli soup that Tony immediately balked at. He peered into his bowl, poking at the tiny broccoli chunks with his spoon. They disappeared into the creamy broth and Tony made a face. When he looked up, his mother raised an eyebrow, gesturing. Screwing up his courage, he scooped up a small chunk and nibbled on it. It tasted as disgusting as it looked. Tony shoved the bowl away from him, ignoring the chiding look his mother gave him.
“And that is all well and good until you realize the implications,” Peggy said, drawing Tony’s attention. Her face was a thundercloud ready to clap. “SHIELD will continue to hold the cube until we deem it safe. Right now it’s anything but. That type of power, in the wrong hands, for the wrong reasons, could unravel everything we managed to accomplish in the war.”
The plates were shifted out of the way and large chunks of meat and potato were placed carefully on the table. Tony picked up his fork, poking at the meat. Jarvis came to stand beside him, giving him a crooked smile as he cut the meat into smaller chunks. Tony grinned at him and stabbed one of the pieces, chewing loudly. The Cook had outdone herself this time; Tony could taste apple and cinnamon overlaying the meat and he grabbed another piece before he’d finished chewing the first. Jarvis rolled his eyes and stepped back, hands folded neatly behind his back. His mother shared a secret smile with Tony and he giddily ate more.
Across from Tony, the conversation was devolving, Howard gesturing with his tumbler of whiskey and Peggy jabbing her fork toward him. His mother ate delicately and when Tony was done the meat, he sat back and thought of Captain America, all alone upstairs and possibly unsure as to why Tony had left him. Fidgeting, Tony drew up invisible plans and began designing his escape.
“And you think SHIELD has the correct motivations? Peggy, I saw a small percentage of its power, just a little spark, and I was nearly blown up. We need to learn how to harness that and use it to our advantage.” Howard cut roughly at his meat and Peggy glared at him. Tony carefully slid down his chair. His mother caught him with a raised eyebrow and he sulkily sat back up.
“You can talk to the board about that if you’re so bent on this ridiculous idea. I will have nothing to do with the technology that helped kill him. End discussion.” Peggy shifted her gaze away from Howard and Tony winced when it landed on him. “How have you been, Tony?”
“Fine, Miss Peggy,” he replied, poking at his potatoes. Howard huffed.
“Leave the boy be. We have important things to discuss.”
Peggy silenced him with a look. “It is no longer of import, Howard. You’ve had your say, your little babble, and now I wish to converse with the others at this table.” She glanced at Maria. “Thank you for the lovely room, Maria. Is there a chance of a tour tomorrow?”
“Peggy!” Howard wheedled.
“Howard!” Peggy mimicked. “You had me all to yourself yesterday evening and this morning, ranting and raving about prototypes and a new molecular structure you had managed to create. I have yet to speak completely with Maria, nor have I had a chance to tell stories to Tony. You will behave or there will be words, and they will not be kind.”
Tony had never witnessed his father shut down so quickly, tossing back his tumbler of whiskey like it was water. Peggy sighed and tried again. “So, Maria, I love the décor in the living room. Did you have someone help you with the designs or are they all your own? I remember you talking about starting in on fashion.”
With Peggy and his mother distracted, Tony tried again to escape. This time it was his father who caught him.
“Tony,” Howard called and Tony stiffened, sitting up straight. “What are you working on right now? I know you’ve been distracted lately with your little toys, but you need to remember your studies.”
“Of course, dad,” Tony said.
Howard poured another tumbler of whiskey. “I want you to realize that if this continual distraction keeps up, I’m taking that Captain America doll from you. You can’t afford all this nonsense with toys and childish imagination.”
There was a hollow point in Tony’s chest, growing wider. Dad couldn’t take Cap from him. Cap – Cap protected him. Tony looked down at his plate. “Of course, dad.”
There was a clatter as Howard slammed the tumbler down on the table. Peggy and his mother stopped talking, both staring as Howard’s face grew red. “Don’t take that tone with me, Tony.”
“I’m sorry, dad. May I be excused?” Tony asked, keeping his voice from shaking. His mother wasn’t looking at him. Howard narrowed his eyes but nodded. Peggy – Peggy was staring at him with wide eyes.
“Get out then,” Howard said, gesturing with his glass.
Tony scrambled off his chair, feet catching in the carpet momentarily. Jarvis led him out, hand hovering just behind him, and Tony desperately wanted to be alone. The foyer looked massive when Jarvis led Tony to the staircase, and Tony turned on his heel, stopping Jarvis in his tracks. “Thanks, Jarvis. I’ll just head up. If you could tell mom that I’ll see her tomorrow to go to the rose garden?”
And then he ran up the stairs.
The walls were suffocating him. He shoved his way into his room, carefully shutting the door and turning the lock. He sunk down against the wood and sighed, looking around his bedroom. Little pieces of electronic devices were scattered across the carpet, scattered amongst the figures in his toy chest, folded into the creases of his blankets. Tony tucked his legs up against his chest, wrapping his arms firmly around them. His eyes caught on Cap, watching him from his pillow, and he buried his face in his knees and cried.
There was a light rap on his door and Tony startled. Toy cars scattered under his frantic hands as he shoved them under the bed, tossing Red Skull with them. He momentarily thought of hiding Cap too, but the pain of being separated again after that discussion with his father – and if it was his father at the door, wanting to continue their conversation from dinner, Tony would need all the protection he could get.
Tony looked around quickly to make sure all the cars were gone, all the maps and plans he had drawn up for a new scenario were carefully tucked away, and gripped Cap tight. He walked to the door and unlocked it.
“Yes, dad?” He carefully eased open the door and was surprised when it wasn’t Howard Stark standing outside, but Peggy.
“Evening, ducky,” Peggy said, voice soft. He gripped the handle tightly.
“Hi, Miss Peggy.”
Peggy shifted her weight, taking the pressure off her bandaged leg, and Tony wondered if it hurt her that badly. Whenever he did scenarios with Cap and Red Skull, Red Skull never managed to harm Cap that seriously. He wanted so desperately to ask but was afraid of the repercussions.
“Can I come in, ducky? I promised you some stories, and I thought tonight would be the best time to tell you them.” Peggy pointedly looked over Tony’s shoulder. “Or I could help you with some of your projects?”
Familiar fear curled up his spine. “No, that’s okay, Miss Peggy. Dad doesn’t like it when I ask for help.”
“Oh, Tony,” Peggy sighed. “May I come in and watch you work then?”
Biting his lip, Tony weighed the pros and cons. On one hand, he wouldn’t be alone tonight and it might be fun to talk to Peggy about his inventions, and about Cap. And his father didn’t seem to have a problem with Peggy, so maybe he wouldn’t get so mad. On the other hand, he didn’t really have anything of import to show Peggy, let alone work on. He just wanted to play with his cars.
Peggy was still watching him. Tony let the chart fall away and nodded.
He moved around the room, clearing space and miscellaneous pieces of junk from hindering Peggy. He noticed one of the toy cars peeking out from under his bed and panicked, kicking it sharply away. It cracked against the wall under his bed and he winced. Peggy made a clicking noise behind him.
“You needn’t worry about cleaning up, Tony. I’m sure I can find a comfortable spot to sit.” Peggy’s voice was still that measure of kind and caution and Tony kind of wanted to duck and hide. No one had spoken to him like that, except his kindergarten teacher, but she was obligated to do so. Was Peggy feeling obligated to stick around?
An uncomfortable silence settles over them both, Tony fighting for words but unsure if he’ll be welcome, and Peggy seemingly unsure how to even start a conversation. There was a rustle of skirts as Peggy sat down on the bed, her crutches tucked neatly against the end of the bed. She smoothed fingers over the comforter, picking out random machine parts and fitting them into a pile. She smiled when Tony shifted closer, turning her full attention to him. Tony looked down at Cap, at the shield that was still attached to his arm and sighed.
“I’m sorry for my behaviour tonight,” Tony said, tamping down the insecurity that flared up. He smiled at Peggy. “It won’t happen again, I swear.”
Peggy sighed, rearranging her skirts and beckoning for Tony to come closer. Tony edged forward, clutching at Cap and holding him protectively over his heart. When he was practically standing beside Peggy’s knee, Peggy took hold of his arm and pulled him up and onto the bed. She then proceeded to hug him.
Tony froze, eyes wide and face trapped against the cascade of Peggy’s hair. Cap pressed tight against his chest, probably digging into Peggy’s side too, but Tony couldn’t move, couldn’t even bring himself to pull his thoughts together because he didn’t understand. Peggy’s arms were loose around him, one hand brushing against the back of his head and the other tight around his shoulders. Tony could feel how warm she was, how she was barely holding him in case he wanted to run away. And suddenly Tony didn’t want to.
He dropped Cap, heard him thump against the comforter and threw his arms around Peggy’s neck, buried his face in her soft hair and clung. He understood the mechanics of a hug, knew them from watching the few cartoons he could actually stand when he was still too young to understand, but had never experienced one of his own. He had tried to initiate one with his mother once, but she had just tapped him on the forehead and told him she was busy. He had never considered trying with his father, too afraid of the possible repercussions to speak up. This, however, this was something more and it hurt, something painful in his chest shifting loose, and he realized too late that he was crying.
Peggy tightened her arms and started whispering nonsensical words in his ear, rocking gently back and forth, and Tony wanted to fight against her warmth, fight against her comfort. But his arms clung stubbornly and he wondered if this was really so bad, if having someone actually hug him was another activity he should forever cross off his list.
“Hush, there, hush, my love. It’s all right, don’t worry,” Peggy was saying, fingers combing through his hair. It felt safe, here, and Tony sniffled against her neck. “Now, now, ducky, let it all out. It’s all right, I’ve got you.”
There was the rustle of skirts and Tony was moved, closer until he was curled in Peggy’s lap, face pressed against her blouse and fingers tangled in her sleeves, unable to stop the sobs. She hushed and hummed at him, her accent adding something to her words and he just stayed there, cocooned in her arms, safe from the world outside. Soon his tears dried, a familiar throbbing sensation starting behind his eyelids, and he curled in closer, wondering if this was all right. Peggy smoothed his bangs down.
“It’s all right, ducky. Sleep, now. We’ll talk in the morning,” she said, carefully untangling his fingers from her blouse and he let go quickly, embarrassment causing him to flush. Peggy smiled at him, clicking her tongue. She brushed at his hair again, ushering him under the comforter and tucking it in gently around him. Tony watched her with wide eyes, unsure how he should proceed, and when she pressed a lipsticked kiss to his forehead, Tony couldn’t hide his shock. Emotionally drained, he tucked his knees up close and blinked at Peggy over the edge of his comforter.
Peggy just smiled at him. “Sweet dreams, Tony.”
Tony cleared the lump in his throat, already missing the warmth. “Night, Miss Peggy.”