Chapter Text
Pepper Potts was undoubtedly a woman of success. Throughout her school years, she effortlessly soared among the distinguished students. While not a genius, she was sharp and always worked hard. Her college years were an adventure, offering thousands of possibilities to prove that she was more than just a pretty face. Although her striking appearance, as a slim blonde, was a slight hindrance, she built a reputation over the years, and after working in the field, her name symbolized the highest quality of work. Despite the challenges in her personal life, she achieved her goals, climbing the career ladder, and shortly after turning 30, she became the CEO of the largest tech company in the United States, or as their marketing department proudly proclaimed, in the world. Working at Stark Industries was a dream come true for Pepper. Every day, she had to make monumental decisions and find solutions to seemingly unsolvable problems. Some might find it amusing, but her desk job provided a real adrenaline rush. The fact that the company's owner entertained absurd ideas and thoughts from beyond their galaxy certainly added to the excitement. Pepper simply loved her job. It wasn't just a means to achieve prosperity and the standard of living she deserved.
Being the brains behind such a massive company came with ridiculously irregular working hours and the need to be available at any time of day or night. However, Pepper had her principles, and one of them was leaving the office at exactly four in the afternoon every Friday. Every member of her team knew this well. So, when this Friday, as she was finishing up her last commitments for the week, she heard an animated discussion outside her office, she knew something was definitely wrong.
"You have exactly seven minutes to tell me what's going on," she declared loudly, ensuring that anyone standing outside her door heard her words. "After that, my workweek is over."
After a few moments of silence, the doors opened, and Melissa and Jonathan entered the room. They proudly held the titles of assistants to the personnel department of Stark Industries, but in reality, they were fresh out of college kids serving as messengers and helpers in the company, all under the guise of gaining experience. Pepper sighed; something was definitely not right.
"Miss Potts," Jonathan began, looking at the desk in front of Pepper to avoid making eye contact but still facing her. "I'm afraid your presence is required at an emergency board meeting."
Pepper leaned back in her chair, measuring the two guests with a cold stare and pursing her lips into a thin line. She knew that Melissa and Jonathan were not in any way to blame for the fact that she wouldn't leave the office until late in the evening, but anger at the messengers was brewing inside her.
"How soon?" Pepper asked, lifting her chin and locking eyes with the younger woman.
"45 minutes, Miss Potts," Melissa replied with a slightly trembling voice.
Pepper might have found it amusing that Melissa, a tall, well-built, clearly athletic woman in her early twenties, felt such a respect in front of her. Although Pepper had done nothing to earn a reputation as someone to be feared. However, the amusement was overridden by the knowledge that she wouldn't be able to keep her word. Pepper despised breaking promises, so if there was even a shadow of doubt that her work could disrupt her plans, she refrained from giving her word. And yet, the Friday evening away from work was an unwritten agreement.
"I'll be there," Pepper said, reopening the laptop she had just closed. She still had a chance to get some work done before the meeting.
The assistants left her office a few seconds later, and Pepper paused in the middle of typing on the computer. An emergency board meeting on this day and at this hour could only mean one thing – some investor had doubts, and they needed to reassure them with a demonstration of how smoothly SI operated.
Shaking her head, Pepper instinctively opened the top drawer of her desk. A smiling face from a photo greeted her Her son was around eight years old in that picture, probably one of her favorite photos of him. She had paid for a professional photoshoot to capture her son's childhood, but almost none of the photos from that session showed his true face. Only this one, taken by the photographer during a break, had that special something. The blonde boy was sitting cross-legged on a chair, his blond hair falling into his closed eyes, head thrown back in the burst of laughter. Pepper loved that photo but kept it in the drawer to avoid a thousand conversations on the subject. In the office, she was Pepper Potts, the CEO, a woman whose top priorities were good stock market results and securing sponsors, not Pepper Potts, a single mother of a too-smart-for-his-own-good boy. It's not that Pepper was ashamed of her single motherhood or her son; far from it. However, constant questions about her son and, worse, about his father were unnecessary in the office. The boundary between private and professional life had to be clear, at least according to Pepper, who had been remarkably effective in maintaining that order for years. Almost no one in the entire company knew that her dissatisfaction with late hours at the office stemmed from the fact that she was losing valuable time with her son and breaking her word to him.
The sun continued to shine high in the sky, and the air carried the pleasant scent of vacation, even though the school year had started a while ago. Harley loved afternoons like these, full of warmth and colors. Running onto the soccer field at his new high school, he couldn't help but smile. Here he was, a freshman starting the first game of the season in the starting lineup. Some jealous teammates insinuated that his mom somehow secured his spot for him. Harley almost snorted at the thought. Not that his mom lacked the means to influence such decisions, whether by carrot or stick, but Harley knew well that his mom would never resort to such measures. Especially for something as trivial as his place on the team. Besides, Harley was aslo sure that Coach Johanson wouldn’t hestitate kick him off the team if anyone tried to sway his decisions. Harley was on the team because he had talent. Period. Not because of any favoritism. The referee blew the whistle, and the game began. Life was good.
Only after a few minutes of play Harley had enough time to scan the stands in search of a familiar blonde ponytail, warm pale-blue eyes, and a wide smile. He found none. Not that he cared. His mom always left work at four on Fridays; it’s just the commute in New York from his mom's office to his school on a Friday afternoon could drag on due to traffic, a real pain in the backside. Harley didn't let the temporary absence of his mom take away the joy of playing. And it was a truly enjoyable game. Harley was the only new player in their school team, so the whole team operated like a well-oiled machine, seasoned by years of playing together. The opposing team was good but not outstanding. They had clear shortcomings, that the home team didn't hesitate to exploit. Finally, just before halftime, an opportunity presented itself. Harley crossed the ball to a teammate waiting in front of the goal, and... GOAL! Their team shouted in congratulations and happiness, and applause rolled through the stands. Harley instinctively turned towards the stands, wanting to give his mom a thumbs-up, but she wasn't there. So, he just smiled at no one in particular and jogged back to his position. He wasn't angry or disappointed. He understood. Yes, he would rather have his mother by his side than god knows on which floor of her office building, but he also knew that she would prefer it that way, too. For the rest of the game, Harley didn't think about the empty seat in the stands, well, hardly.
Toward the end of the game, Harley had an ugly clash with an opposing defender. Judging by the force of the blow to his legs, Harley guessed that the boy was definitely a senior, probably held back several times, as no high school student should be that big and strong. Swiping his sweaty fringe from his forehead and limping to his sore ankle, he involuntarily searched the stands one last time. His mom still wasn't there. Harley wasn't upset. His mom did what she could to be there for him at important moments. However, she was a single mother with an extremely demanding career; Harley understood that.
Descending from the well-deserved victory, Harley didn't linger on the empty spot near his friends. Instead, he waved to the filled seats.
Harley studied his reflection in one of the many mirrors in their locker room after a shower, which he deserved like a dog his kennel. A sizable bruise was forming on his left cheek under the freckle constellation, the aftermath of a collision he couldn't quite recall in the excitement of the game. It didn't look pretty.
"Oh, don't worry," said Louis, the team captain. "It'll disappear faster than it showed up."
Harley grinned sincerely and turned to the older teammate, who patted him on the uninjured cheek.
"You'll still score a lot of dates with that cute face," the taller guy added and headed towards the exit of the locker room. "And now, move it, move it, or janitor Brian will lock you in here, and you'll have to stay until Monday."
Harley laughed, shaking his head, and gathered his things from the bench, following his captain.
"I'm going, I'm going," the thirteen-year-old replied, rolling his eyes.
Life was good.
Sitting on the bus on his way home, Harley's mood wasn't as good. The vibrations of the bus and the tiredness after the game made him frown involuntarily. His mom would surely be exhausted after returning from work. Harley hoped her day had been a good one. However, he knew that even if everything was against her there was nothing to stop her from showing him a little love when he got home. His mother always hugged him and praised him for playing. Recently, however, they had a little less time for each other. Harley started high school, and Pepper was especially busy, working after hours and going out early in the morning. Harley missed his mother. He missed their evening chats, praising his latest inventions and the warm home-cooked meals she prepared. He missed the moments when she would sit next to him on the couch, with her laptop in her lap, typing away, occasionally glancing at him and smiling proudly, as if she saw in him a future genius. He appreciated the fact that his mother saw potential in him, even if she didn't say so every day. Life as a single mother was hard, and Harley wanted to help her, make her life a little easier and see her happy. Harley knew she didn't need his complaints and reproaches. He understood that she certainly felt bad about missing his match even without his comments. So, he reached for his phone and clicked on her contact. "Dinner at eight?" A short "See you then" came in response as Harley was already climbing the stairs to their apartment building.
Harley loved their home. It wasn't a single-family house or a super modern apartment; it was a floor in one of the old brownstones on the edge of Central Park, and it was the best place in the world. Harley smiled and exchanged a few words about the game with Jerry, who served as their security guard, but the boy was sure that the slim and gruff sixty-year-old wouldn't be able to kick a homeless cat out of their building, not that it bothered Harley.
Harley sat on the couch in their open-plan apartment, waiting for eight o'clock to strike. The lights were dimmed, but not completely, as Harley read a text for his English class with one eye. However, he wasn't too focused on it. A silly game show was playing on TV, somehow amusing Harley. On the table in front of him were sketches of his new robotics project, and outside the window, some serious argument echoed, audible even on the second floor, as if Harley stood inches away from it. Suddenly, a click in the lock was heard, and a moment later, familiar heels tapping. Harley leaned over the back of the couch to get a glimpse of his mom, who, despite slightly hunched shoulders and a serious face, looked as beautiful as always. Harley truly loved his mom and considered her the perfect parent. He wasn't sure if his mom was as perfect as he imagined or if everyone just looked great compared to his dad. Simon Keener was indeed a lousy parent. Harley didn't remember much about the man. He knew they shared the same nose shape and eye color, more from photos than actual memories. However, he remembered the scent of anise that surrounded the man and how his eyes sparkled with the light of a thousand stars when he was excited about something. He also remembered that he never had time for shared meals and did everything to make Harley spend time doing anything but being with him. Harley vividly recalled how he mocked his mom's career, suggesting she should stop pretending to be a businesswoman and take care of the house and child, as befitting a woman. Simon left one day when he was supposed to take care of seven-year-old Harley and never came back. He left for scratch cards. When asked about his father, Harley always said the guy must have won the jackpot; otherwise, he wouldn't have left his son and wife without a word. Harley loved his dad because he was his dad, but he didn't like him at all. Seeing how his mom smiled much more often and returned to her maiden name at the first opportunity made Harley know that he wasn't alone in this feeling.
"Hi, sunshine," the woman said, leaning in to kiss her son's forehead. "Are we cooking our traditional three-cheese pasta?"
Harley studied his mom, who was already halfway to the kitchen. Her presence exuded an aura of confidence, competence, and security. Harley didn't like admitting that he was a kid and really needed his mom, but he never felt as relaxed as he did in her presence. His mother was a woman with a stern face in the office and a warm smile at home, and she did her best to ensure her son's happiness. Not only did she provide for him financially and offer him all the resources he could dream of, but she also managed to create a bond with him that was unbreakable.
"Well, actually," he began, rising from the couch and following her, "since we're celebrating my outstanding performance, I ordered pizza!"
Pepper stopped in her tracks and smiled at her son. Both of them knew that Harley ordered pizza not because he wanted to celebrate his victory but because he didn't want to add to her responsibilities. Pepper had repeatedly told him not to worry so much, that her happiness shouldn't be his priority, but the boy never seemed to hold onto their agreements for too long.
"In that case, I'll change into something more suitable for eating pizza," she said, ruffling his already tousled hair and heading to her bedroom. "And you, gather your things. Since it's a pizza night, we'll eat on the couch."
When Pepper returned from her room in much more comfortable clothes than her suit, two pizza boxes were already on the coffee table, along with two plates and bottle of their favorite orange juice. Harley sat in his usual spot on the couch, flipping through channels. Pepper observed her son. She never knew what she did to deserve such a wonderful kid.
"Grey's Anatomy?" Harley asked, turning over his shoulder to meet her gaze.
"Of course," Pepper replied, sinking onto the couch next to her son.
For a moment, they ate in silence, enjoying their own company, warm pizza, and who knows which episode of their show.
"Harley," Pepper began, grabbing the boy's attention, "I'd like to apologize..."
"Mom!" Harley cut her off with a groan. "You don't have to. You're here now. You didn't come to the game because you didn't want to but because you couldn't. I get it."
Pepper looked at her son, his cheerful eyes, lips curved into a gentle smile, the bruise on his cheek... She took his face in her hands and turned his left cheek towards the light.
"Harls, sweetheart," she said, furrowing her brows as she examined the swelling. "Don't tell me you got into another fight..."
Harley rolled his eyes like a typical teenager and leaned his face into her hands.
"No, Mom," he sighed. " Their defender was huge. I mean enormous! He was like 26 years old."
Harley was honest, and Pepper knew her son wouldn't lie to her. It was their fundamental rule: complete honesty, regardless of the subject of their conversation. Following this rule, Pepper knew she should have a serious talk with Harley about what was currently happening in her life and how it could slowly start affecting his daily life. But she simply couldn't. She didn't want to spoil these precious moments with a heavy conversation and intense emotions. The two of them never had any secrets. Yet, Pepper kept a secret, a pretty significant one.
"Ooooh, tell me everything, kiddo," Pepper said, turning entirely towards her son. "I can't live in ignorance about your battle wounds!"
Harley chuckled under his breath and immersed himself in the story. From the game, the assist, the foul, and his excitement, to his morning math test, which he, of course, aced, all the way to the fact that he'd like to invite Sarah Goodson to the upcoming fall dance, which was approaching rapidly.
Pepper absorbed every word from her son's mouth and soaked in his incredible energy. Being a mom was more important to her than being the CEO of Stark Industries, and in moments like these, she was one hundred percent sure of it.
When she kissed Harley goodnight and retreated to her home office to handle some paperwork, making sure Saturday would be entirely work-free and dedicated to Harley, she decided that soon she would talk to her son about the subject she kept delaying. She couldn't pinpoint when 'soon' was going to be, but she promised herself she would do it, and Pepper Potts rarely broke promises.