Chapter Text
Looking over the subdued waves, Harley breathes a heavy sigh. The winter wind biting at his skin, Harley clutches the jacket over his shoulder trying to preserve whatever warmth is left of him. After what seems like hours - but really, in actuality mere minutes- Harley stirs from his reverie. He shuffles from the sandy beach and starts heading toward the shore.
Harley has never been one for introspection. It's just how he is. It's just how he was raised. His parents didn't appreciate much when they were inconvenienced by his feelings, always pushing him to toughen up and brave whatever is thrown at him. They insist that he can be stronger than some whiny child, that he can be strong as long as he controls his emotions.
And he does. He does such a good job that he eradicated whatever semblance of emotion his heart had. When his dad left, abandoning Harley and his sister, and his mother to fend for themselves after he presumably won the lottery, he didn't cry. He never shed a single tear as he acknowledged that when his dad left he had taken a part of Harley's soul with him. And so did the last speck of innocence he had. All he had then to take care of him and his sister was their mother. And she was no better than his father in the parenting aspect. In fact, he thinks she was worse.
At least he didn't have to deal with drunken slurs and scathing insults when he was with his father.
Every night she would come home, drunk off her ass, stumbling around the darkness of their house trying to find respite from the everpresent despair that plagues their existences. Every night Harley would do all he can to help her through the worst of the alcohol. He cleans her messes and takes whatever scathing remarks she has for him. He does whatever a dutiful son should do for his clearly hurting mother. But he loathes her. He absolutely hates her. She abandoned him and Abbie for the escapism of alcohol right when they needed her most. He despises her. He despises his parents. He wants to lash out, scream, cry, and rage at them. At everything really. He wants to despair and mourn the boy he once was. Because they killed him. He was well and truly dead now. Deep inside.
But he continues to push it down until nothing but a cold spark is left, and an unbearable emptiness took hold of his heart. Like the void in an empty galaxy.
He continues to push it down as he starts taking any and all jobs available to a scrawny 9-year-old boy. He takes to sweeping sidewalks, accompanying wayward dogs, and even fixing odd gadgets here and there. He does anything and everything he could to keep himself and Abbie afloat. He even does- well. Harley doesn't even want to remember.
The following years after his dad left were truly the most horrible years of his life. Faced with the world seemingly against him, Harley couldn't afford to break down. It's unhealthy for a child to even feel this way, but he did. Because there's nothing healthy about his life anyway. He faced every job he was handed with an iron grip on his emotions.
Because otherwise, he'd break. And he refuses to break. He refuses to break and leave Abbie alone with their mother. He refuses to break because, despite this shitty hand that life dealt him, he also absolutely refuses to back down. He refuses it. So he soldiers on, with his emotions tightened securely between his ribcage and his heart. Never to be touched upon unless necessary.
It has been this way ever since. Whenever a speck of emotion Harley didn't feel comfortable with would appear, he will do everything he mentally can to suppress it and eradicate it. Like a flame under a depressurization chamber. Or an ant under a person's boot.
He does this so often that not only has he lost touch with a vast majority of the spectrum of emotion, he is now utterly and helplessly incapable of comprehending the emotions he currently has. As he had taken every opportunity to unfeel, when he finally feels something and he is unable to immediately quash it under his metaphorical boot, he shuts down. Harley shuts down. It isn't even a graceful shutdown, it's more of a freeze-and-stand-there-for-hours type of shutdown. Sometimes maybe it's a type of shutdown that has him desperately clawing at his scalp and neck at night to try and salvage whatever rationality (Or irrationality) he still has. Or maybe the type of shutdown that makes him unable to form coherent thoughts except for suicide and degradation.
Okay, maybe it's all a little dramatic. But is it all just dramatics? Hm.
Speaking of confusing feelings that he doesn't know what to do with- as he walks towards the shore and into an open campfire he sees him. Unerringly, unnervingly, stupidly, gorgeously handsome him. The source of the many unfamiliar emotions he is currently feeling. He's sitting there on a log, facing the campfire, roasting a marshmallow completely uncaring that it's totally burnt.
(And later he would reason that burnt s'mores are just better overall, and Harley would have to disagree with him on that.)
He's sitting there, with all the beauty of a million stars all condensed into one being. He sits there with his short brown locks that curl slightly at the edges, still damp presumably after swimming. He sits there as their eyes lock and Harley thinks that the world stops for a moment. The breeze seemed to stop, and the crackle of the fire vanishes. The now distant waves seem to fade out of existence as Harley looked into the boy's eyes. His hazel eyes bore deep into Harley, carrying with them a wisdom Harley is sure he cannot yet have. They stay there, eyes locked on a standstill for what seems like an eternity when the s'more the boy was holding promptly melts through the stick and falls into the fire with an unsavory splat.
The boy breaks eye contact and instead opts to stare disbelievingly at the s'more as if it's death and frankly suicide was anything other than his negligence's fault. A few moments pass and a blubber makes its way into Harley's throat and he chuckles lightly. Quick and light, but genuine nonetheless. The boys' eyes shine towards him, and a creeping smile plasters itself on his face. As if making Harley laugh was a prize. As if seeing him laugh in the first place is a cause for joy.
Harley thinks that he really wouldn't mind seeing more of that.
Honestly, Harley didn't know how he got here. With Peter fucking Parker. Otherwise known as Spider-man. Scratch that, he did know, he just didn't know what prompted him to do so.
It was only a few weeks ago when he decided to just say fuck it and try to yeet himself across the world to god knows where and spend his vacation doing vacation-y things. He pulled out his phone, opened his online map, and randomized it. It was truly up to the universe's whims when his hand landed on New York, of all places. A 14-hour car drive from Rose Hill, Tennessee.
It doesn't take him long to realize that Tony would be there. In New York. And wow that put a damper on his plans, did it? He hasn't been avoiding Tony since he was 13 per se, he was merely indirectly directing Tony into finding some better use of his time. Certainly talking to some 13-year-old bump-fuck from Tennessee wouldn't be high on Tony's list of priorities back then. He had the avengers and all those world-destroying catastrophes to worry about. Those types of problems should be pretty high on his list. Harley just took an extra arm to make sure that he's taken off the list entirely. Not that he's ungrateful of the man. No. In fact, he's eternally indebted to him. He just doesn't want to be a burden of all things to the man who raised his spirits. He doesn't want to
Tony arrived right when Harley needed him the most. Right, when the darkest of days were maelstroms and Harley was an old fishing boat struggling to stay afloat. He came in a blaze of red and yellow, engulfed Harley's life with the prospects of actually having possibilities outside of Rose Hill, and left in the same extravagant and arrogant way. Tony pulled him out of his mind that day. And Harley is ever grateful.
So no he's not being ungrateful and just hateful to the man. It's just that, father figures never really seem to stay long in Harley's life. And yeah. For as short as Tony had been in his life, Tony Stark was the closest to a father Harley ever had. And then he left. And although Harley doesn't resent him for leaving, he sure as hell cannot help his mind's involuntary response to being abandoned again. Abandoned is a loose term, seeing as to be abandoned one must be attached in the first place.
Anyway.
So Harley finds himself mulling over the different possibilities of his trip to New York. He anxiously thinks of Tony Stark and his inevitable reaction if he sees Harley. When he sees Harley. He thinks of every interaction then, what Tony would think of Harley now that he was older and admittedly even more jaded than before. Colder, certainly. To Harley, Tony Stark was a fever dream, quick to arrive and quick to go, but still left you reeling with impact when you awake. But to Tony, Harley was probably a speck of dust he remembers he accumulated back from Tennessee. Something he took pity on. Harley gulped then and clicked dial on the number he swore he'd never use.
As Harley was calling Tony, his mind was racing with anxiety. Harley figured that calling Tony would be the quickest way to see if Harley still meant something to Tony. If Tony still thought of Harley as the speck of dust Harley feels like he is-
Overwhelming calm proceeds to take over Harley's body. Any and all anxiety fades away into background noise as Harley straightens his back and steels his gaze toward the wall as if willing to dare and punch him. Harley finds himself clear-headed and ready to duke it out with a lawyer. A few moments later and Tony Stark himself picks up.
"Look, whoever this is, I really don't have the time to talk, so why don't you tell right now why you have this number or I swear to god I'll-" It is said in a clipped and short tone, but there is a hint of amusement and annoyance behind it as Tony continues. It is exactly what Harley would imagine Tony Stark would say. But Harley interrupts.
" Tony? " Just a name. Barely anything really but a small smattering of hope and longing. Harley allows himself to hope for a moment before the overwhelming cold is back and he's continuing to speak. "I need to talk to you."
"Harley?" Tony's bewildered voice makes its way to Harley's ear. "I-" Tony stumbles with his words for a bit. "Harley is that you?" Tony continues, disbelief in his voice this time, and an unidentifiable emotion tacked on to it.
"Yes. We need to talk." Harley continues, and if he flinches minutely at the ice in his voice then that's his problem to deal with.
"I- shit- kid" Tony continues, disbelief and relief all at once making its way to the forefront of his words.
"Is that really you? I- shit alright we can talk, but not right now. Shit! Kid! How've you been?"
Inwardly, Harley is reeling from the enthusiasm that Tony is showing. Harley thought that Tony would have been mad at him for ignoring his calls. He thought maybe Tony would've wanted nothing to do with Harley. So hearing him being so enthusiastic and joyful, Harley doesn't know what to make of it of it.
" I'm fine." came Harley's hesitant reply.
"Really? You're fine? That's all you have to say to the person that's been trying to call you for years?" And Harley flinches. There is no malice in Tony's voice, never a hint of anger and irritation. Yet he flinches anyway. He's teasing Harley as if it were the most natural thing to do when faced with a wayward child that dropped off all contact years ago. It probably is natural, for Tony. But to Harley? Awkward, emotionally-stinted Harley? It is anything but.
"Really, I'm fine Tony." And maybe call it resignation that permeates his voice.
"... Okay." Tony relents. Perhaps filing away that conversation for the future. "What'd you wanna talk about, kid?"
"I'm going to New York." Boom.
"Seriously? Well, damn kid I'm glad ya called, I'll send you the jet so you don't hav-"
"No! No, that's fine Tony. I already have tickets."
"Then I'll upgrade them for you." Harley's indignant irritation flashes outwards for a moment. But a certain fondness creeps inside a moment later. Classic Tony.
"Tony, for all you know I could've gotten first-class seats already."
"Maybe, maybe." And a moment passes before Tony continues, "You don't really have tickets do you?"
"No, I'm taking the truck." Harley can't help but smile.
Tony laughs loudly at that. "Alright kid, you got me. When are you coming?"
Harley pauses, considering the date and time.
" 'Bout three days later. I'll probably arrive the day after I set off."
" ' Kay, where are you staying?"
"I was thinking about stayin' at a nice hotel?"
Now here's the thing, Harley and Abbie may have been abandoned when they were children, and they may have been dirt poor back then, but now they at least had enough to keep them afloat. More than enough with Harley's mechanical job involving the equipment that Tony gave him. Another debt to Tony that Harley has. Without that equipment, Harley doesn't think he could've been able to put himself and Abbie through school when their mother stopped paying bills altogether around that time.
Harley feels like the biggest jerk to Tony again. Christ, the guy was insistent on staying in his life with the weekly phone calls. But it was Harley who was determined to push him out entirely. Too many memories and correlations. Too much affection would bleed into Tony's voice and Harley would shut down because that's exactly how his father was. And then he left. Just like Tony.
Harley knows it's irrational. He knows that he was being stupid and crazy. But he still cut him off anyway. He stopped responding to calls and texts overall. He sat there staring at the ringing telephone of their house until its voices eventually fade out. The calls would come back, and Harley supposes that Tony was worried for him for a while. But maybe Tony had someone check on him or something because eventually, the calls stopped. The telephone stopped ringing, and his flip phone stopped receiving messages. At the time it felt like a chapter in Harley's life had closed. It felt like waking up from a fever dream that he didn't want to wake up from. And Harley supposes, now, that he really missed talking to Tony.
"Nope. Absolutely not. You're staying here, at the tower." Yep. Classic Tony.
"Tony, I wouldn't want to impose."
"You could never, Harley. In fact, I'm offering one of the penthouse rooms to you."
"Tony-" but Tony soldiers on.
"Stay here kid. I want to see you. And Pepper really wants to meet the kid who shot me with a potato gun the first time we met." And isn't that funny? A genuine smile manages to creep up on Harley and before he knew it he found himself mentally agreeing.
" C'mon, kid. "
" Okay. "
" Okay? "
" Okay. "
" Good. "
And Harley thinks that Tony is relieved. That he's elated that Harley agreed.
"Can't wait kid. You have to tell me everything since you went radio silent."
"Okay." And Harley smiles. "I'll see you, Tony."
"Alright, see ya kid. Call when you set off, and call when you arrive."
And that was that.
Harley moved to his shared room with Abbie then, finding his sister plopped on the bed with her feet in the air and her nose on her phone. Her fingers expertly flying around the phone, rapidly sending texts between what Harley assumes are her friends. Abbie is an interesting character. Really. Just like Harley, Abbie's been forced to grow up too quickly. She's been dealt the same hand as him, and they've been through the worse together. But she isn't like Harley. Not at all.
Where Harley expected a broken, non-emotive person would take over Abbie, a positive bubbly aptitude formed instead. Harley was honestly shocked when he found that instead of him comforting Abbie at times, it was Abbie comforting him instead. He was even more shocked when their mother was in a drunken rage, Abbie stepped up and full on subdued her. Like literally subdued her. Words were exchanged while she was wrangling their mother to her bed. Before, Abbie would cower behind the kitchen door frame as their mother became the loudest hyena they know. Abbie would flinch when their mother became particularly too rowdy, and Harley has to step up and stop her from accidentally stabbing herself with a knife. Abbie never associated with their mother more than what was necessary for the mornings. To find his 12-year-old sister there, calmly talking to their mother as if she were the 12-year-old, shook Harley more than anything. Because Abbie hated their mother. He knows that she hates her alcoholism. He knows she would rather have nothing to do with her at all.
And he supposes she's what's holding him together. She was quite literally the light in his bleak existence. She was the very reason why Harley worked so hard to keep themselves afloat. Why he did do what he did so that they survive the next day. Without his little sister to take care of back then, Harley thinks that he would've given up long before Tony Stark entered his life. So really, he's grateful for his little sister. Only three years younger than him. They were twiddle-dee and twiddle-dum. Attached since the hip.
So when he eventually finds himself talking to her about his plans, he isn't that surprised when she immediately agrees.
"Harley, you HAVE to go!" Abby perks up after he's done explaining his plan.
"I am!"
"Harley James Keener, you HAVE to go!" Abby emphasizes again, really driving home her point.
"Abs I am going. I already talked to Tony about it. I'm staying with him."
"You mean you talked to Tony Stark? Darn, and here I was pretty sure you were lyin' to me about him." Abbie smirked at him, her tone completely teasing. She knows Tony's landing here was real. It's pretty hard to hide the evidence from her. He also has a garage full of technology that magically appeared out of nowhere after that whole fiasco. She may be annoying, but she's definitely not stupid.
So Harley clicked his tongue at her as she laughs.
"This'll be good for 'ya, I just know it, Harley.
"Yeah, probably."
"No, not probably. It WILL be good for you." Abbie emphasizes again. She really did love emphasizing things.
"In fact, it's already good for you. You're actually breaking out of your shell a bit."
Harley raises his brow at that. Disbelief in his voice when he asks her, "Really?"
"Yep. I haven't seen you smile in ages Harls. And now just thinking about this trip to New York and reconnecting with Tony Stark has you all dopey and smiley."
Harley pouts. "I am not being dopey."
"Harley you kinda are." Abbie smiles at him, genuinely excited for him. "You're the dope in this family."
"Go enjoy your trip m'kay? And don't worry about me. I'm 17, I can take care of myself."
And Harley smiles again at her. He's proud of her.
"I know Abs. You stayin' here at the house? Or over at Janice's?" And Abbie props her head up on her hands, her elbows resting on the mattress beneath her. Thinking.
"Mmm, I think I'm stayin' at Janice's. I have a feeling she'd be happy to have me for a couple a' weeks."
"Why of course! Her parents love ya!"
Abbie lightly punches his arm, smiling.
"You doofus."
And Harley smiles genuinely at her. He finds himself thinking about his trip. About Abbie and how she'd be when he's gone for a bit. He starts thinking about Rose hill, and how he really wants to get out of this stuffy town. It's not like he's Abbie who's friends with practically everyone. He has no one really. He starts really thinking about it, wondering when he last took a break (Never), and wondering when he tried to let loose. (Again, never.)
And thus Harley smiles again, this time into the space between them.
"Yeah, I think it'd be good for me too."