Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony was so done. This was just his luck, and he was over it.

The day, hell, the year had started out great, and although they’d only been in 2013 for a handful of weeks, he was happy. He and Pepper were still… having a, uh, moment, but somehow, despite all that, he wasn’t completely alone (for once).

At least… he didn’t live alone (yeah, apparently there was a difference). Others were living in the tower with him.

He and Pepper had planned and designed the tower together, organised everything together, watched as it was built and prepared together, and while he owned the majority of it, she was still the proud owner of 12%!

…Yeah… That had come back to bite him in the ass.

Point was, they designed a home together, and… they weren't together anymore.

Tony and Pepper were still friends, he could still trust her with his life and he knew that, but… She wasn’t spending much time in the tower, or even in New York at the moment. And he couldn't even fault her for that.

Flying into a wormhole, having their Malibu home attacked and destroyed, her getting kidnapped…

He'd have to be even bigger of a douche than he usually was to fault her for needing time alone.

But, he… he missed her. And he missed her a lot more than he was willing to admit to anyone. Well… more than he was willing to admit to anyone alive.

Because JARVIS knew. Of course, JARVIS knew. And because JARVIS knew, that meant Dum-E and U both knew. But no one else did.

…Okay, Natasha probably knew. And Fury might've known. But he certainly hadn't told anyone about it, so as far as he was concerned, no one else knew.

Pepper needing time to herself was understandable. If Tony here more… adjusted, he would probably have taken time for himself as well.

But therapy was for people with time, and Tony certainly didn't have time, so he ignored what had happened recently, and he let Pepper process and take time.

Plus, Pepper had it worse anyway.

Killian, the dick, had only tried to kill Tony, but he'd kidnapped Pepper and forcefully given Extremis, those left different… issues behind. So he was giving her the time she needed, and he offered to give her anything she needed to stay safe, to recuperate.

And while she took time off, while she healed from the surgery to remove Extremis, he’d upgraded his arc reactor.

The whole experience had given him ideas and realisations about his current version of the arc reactor, and he fully planned to do everything he could to prevent certain issues arising again.

After the palladium poisoning incident (and subsequent fixing of that problem), after realising the arc reactor could be upgraded far beyond what he originally realised, he went off the deep end.

He made a new arc reactor, a better one to assist him. Was it as good as what he ideally wanted? No. It still dug into his chest, it was still somewhat obvious unless he wore layers upon layers over it, it was still cold, but it was a better, more reliant, and it was slightly less… obvious.

The end of that year had been shitty, anyone that knew what happened had to agree. And it had been busy too, what with the Avengers forming, Pepper being kidnapped, temporarily going homeless, and having superpowered humans actively trying to kill him, not to mention the destruction of his home.

But since then, he'd managed to turn things around. Kind of. And on the plus side, losing his usual home in Malibu meant he could officially move into the tower with the Avengers without looking like he was following them!

…Not that he was. It was his home, after all, and it wasn't like he needed people around him.

…

Anyway.

After the ‘New York wormhole in the sky’, incident, Fury had asked (demanded) that the Avengers be given somewhere to properly operate.

The tower was originally designed to be used as an office/lab building, despite whatever anyone else may have thought, but hey! Since when had Tony had ever been one to stick to plans? So the top floors were altered to act as a set of ‘penthouses’ for the Avengers to live.

Bruce got his own lab, a couple of gyms were added, and each Avenger got their own rooms, and spare rooms to turn into whatever they wished. Their own ‘wings’ he supposed, if you thought about the tower as some sort of manor. Tony didn’t want to assume what they liked, so he left everything blank for them.

In the process of doing that, he added onto his personal lab (that was always going into the building) a… ‘kiddy’ lab for Peter (and, hopefully, Harley at some point).

Tony had run into the kid before the Avengers incident, and he’d run into the kid through his school, Midtown School. He couldn’t accurately say why the kid intrigued him, but something about the kid was just… familiar.

Meeting May had… been a fun instance, the woman had interrogated him more than even Fury had. He'd been impressed.

But somehow, he’d managed to organise a… not an internship, Peter was far too young, but an agreement similar to… ‘tutoring’. While the tower was being built, Tony organised to teach Peter and assist Peter without a lab (because he couldn't reasonably take the kid to Malibu every time he wanted to do something), but as soon as a lab was built, Peter got access to it.

He didn’t get access to everything, Tony needed to at least keep him away from the especially dangerous things, Tony wasn't that stupid. But he got access to easy, somewhat harmless things. …After a dozen safety tutorials.

He tried to be there whenever he could, but certain events kept him away, so JARVIS (and a scientist he somewhat trusted) kept an eye on Peter.

JARVIS liked Peter.

And when Tony came home, officially moved into the tower full-time, it seemed that the events with the Mandarin and Killian had been reasonably well hidden from the Avengers because no one mentioned anything about it.

He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed.

Once he was back and made sure Peter was ok (he was 12 for fuck's sake), was all good, Harley got a similar deal. He couldn’t come down all the time, what with being 14 hours away by car, but Tony could fund science projects. He’d organised something with Harley’s guardian, and occasionally Harley would be allowed to come down to the lab. At some point.

Tony was quietly looking forward to Harley and Peter meeting.

JARVIS would probably like Harley too.

But because neither of them were always there, and Tony couldn’t distract himself with helping either of them, he needed another distraction from his failing relationships. He decided to focus on his new roommates, the Avengers. Earth’s mightiest heroes!

…And apparently social recluses.

Tony got it, despite everything the public knew about him, if he could choose to stay in his lab 24/7, he would. Until Pepper wormed her way into his life, that is.

Tony could’ve very comfortably spent his life only interacting with Rhodey (and Obadiah…).

His business just unfortunately forced him into the spotlight a lot.

At some point, easier than Tony ever would've realised, Pepper became a constant in his life too, and while she wasn’t now, Peter and Harley’s constant communications were… nice to see. The kids were excited about everything, and something about it managed to warm the chunk of metal in Tony's chest.

Pepper was still in his life, he still loved her, but based on who he communicated with most often, it was the nerdy kids he mentored. …He funded? That… both sounded better and worse… The point was, Tony only needed to be able to communicate with 2 — maybe 6 people at most — and he’d be happy.

But… it was still a little bit disappointing that he rarely saw any of his new roommates… It was fine, they had their own lives, but it was still just a tiny bit disappointing.

But besides that, he had his own work to deal with anyway.

Still, the interactions he had with them on the rare occasion he met them were nice.

Superficial, but nice.

Tony didn’t quite need to use his ‘Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist,’ persona to its fullest potential, but he couldn’t quite… be himself either.

People didn’t like Tony because he was Tony.

They liked him because he was Tony Stark, a genius billionaire who filled the pages of every tabloid and gossip magazine in New York.

Or they hated him for the same reason.

Steve… disliked him for not being his father.

Natasha disliked him for how he’d acted when they met, when he was dying (and to be honest, he couldn't completely fault her for that).

Clint disliked him, probably because Natasha did, or because Tony’s reputation had proceeded him.

Thor… he wasn’t sure about Thor, but the god probably didn’t like him either.

Bruce? Well… Tony liked Bruce. He was a scientist, someone that could communicate with Tony better in the lab than any of the others could, and he hoped Bruce liked him, but the likelihood was Bruce tolerating him and his irritating habits.

But ignoring all of that, the year had been… okay.

The Avengers had been moved in by New Years, and while Tony had gone off to a party he’d been invited to, JARVIS had reported that the Avengers had had a fun night as well.

A fun night Tony didn’t know about, but Tony was happy for them. He wouldn’t have been able to go to the Avengers night anyway, he’d accepted the New Year’s Party invite months prior. He would've cancelled…

Tony had been planning on upgrading certain elements of the Avengers equipment since they won against Loki for a while (certain things just got in the way). One way or another, he was going to get around to upgrading everything so that the team had the best chances possible.

That being said, his plans had become ‘official’ when Nick Fury asked (again demanded) it of him.

So, Tony had been spending most of his time designing and testing and making all sorts of improvements on the Avengers gear (which had officially started around New Years, however had been in the making since Loki’s defeat).

He found weak points in Clint's arrows, he adjusted Steve’s suit to something more modern while keeping the older style in mind, and he went out of his way to make Bruce stretchy pants.

However, if anyone found out exactly how many experimental pieces of gear were being tested and worked on, well… Tony might’ve been called a little bit obsessive, or a little bit insane, or told that he needed a hobby. He’d backed off creating so many Iron Man suits, and the Avengers gear had replaced that gap.

Well… he was still creating more Iron Man suits while leaving JARVIS to construct them in the background. But he had backed off a tiny bit.

He found a valid excuse to bury himself in his work, only going out for the occasional party or speech or function, and every time the news had a field day because every time Tony gave them a new scandal.

Real scandals? Well, that was debatable.

Slowly, his behaviour in public became progressively more… well… more. But he spent so much time focusing on the Avengers gear, away from the public eye, that those few, big ‘scandals’ all blew up.

It had been about 8 or so months since Loki was stopped, and Tony’s usual handful of scandals a week had changed to about one scandal a month.

Was that a lot?

Well, it was by no means a small amount, but for Tony, it was tiny compared to what usually happened. It was almost a repeat of after Afghanistan when he completely shut himself away, only daring to go out once he felt more confident in himself, more secure. But at least this time he was still showing up in public occasionally, which meant his every move was scrutinised.

Tony was content with that. And of course, JARVIS monitored everything, keeping everything under control.

If anything truly went to shit, JARVIS would step in.

At some point, about 6 weeks into the new year, the longest amount of time he’d gone while being reasonably content and happy, he ran out of things to do with the Avengers gear.

…At least, he ran out of things to do without feedback, and without coming off as obsessive (his previous concern as well). So the Avengers were given the upgraded equipment he made, passed off as SHIELD issued.

Tony understood the need for that, the team were more likely accept SHIELD issued gear as opposed to STARK issued gear.

But he hit a roadblock in equipment upgrading, and his own stuff was already being altered for a new set of tests, a new set of ideas being implanted in numerous new suits.

He’d managed to make a deal with Wakanda, giving them a safe space on American soil and STARK Industry backing, and he’d been gifted a small amount of Vibranium to examine and experiment with.

Or at least… he was going to experiment with it.

He wasn’t sure if that’s what they intended, but that’s what was happening.

Everything was going great!

So of course, his life wouldn’t continue along that path.

He'd been doing the maths that would allow ‘portals’ to exist. Something that could transport a person, or more likely, an item from one point to another.

He wasn’t focusing massive amounts of energy or time or materials on this project, because it was a mere side… hobby.

Something he’d thought of in passing and was just… playing around with for the hell of it.

Something to pass time with.

But he’d found a formula that intrigued him, and for the sake of it, he found a handful of scrappy materials he had lying around the lab, nothing impressive or particularly rare, quite genuinely, scraps.

Despite his riches, his ability to secure whatever he needed no matter how rare or expensive, Tony Stark was not someone to let things go to waste.

…Usually.

His birthday party, the one where Rhodey took the ‘Iron Patriot’ suit (stupid name by the way, the suit wasn’t made of iron) was not a good example of using everything.

He wasted a… lot of things doing that time in his life. Including Pepper’s art collection.

He’d bought them back later.

Tony used top materials for his suits, he used top materials for his buildings and tech and the Avengers gear. If something needed to be safe and high quality and good, it got the best of the best, even if he needed to synthesise a new metal or material.

But he used scraps for minor, quick experiments. They didn’t need to be fancy, they didn’t need to hold up against everything, they just needed to act as an experiment.

Besides, it was always nice to challenge himself to build something with things anyone would be able to find (even if they needed to do a little bit of searching).

Truth be told, when it came to Afghanistan, he'd been glad about his habit of creating things out of scrap material (and the habit had gone up tenfold).

So, with a vision and a half-assed plan in mind, he sat down and used the formula he’d made, and he made something small. Technically, the object wasn’t big enough to do anything, to ‘teleport’ anything, it was just… to see if it would work. If the formula could be compatible with anything.

In theory, the portal size would barely be bigger than an apple, a watermelon at the largest.

If anything, the test was just to see if anything happened, if it was something he could focus time and energy into, or if he should continue working on it as a side project.

He had either underestimated the formula, overestimated his knowledge on the matter, or something else had fucked with his tech.

Why?

Because once he’d set everything up and turned his back to the device, getting up to finish his stale coffee and get ready to test the device out, something behind him had lit up in a colourful display of light, and every single godforsaken hologram, every screen, and every alarm in front of him lit up and went off with all the subtlety of a dying cat, and just JARVIS said something just a couple of seconds too late.

In fact, seconds would’ve been an overstatement, JARVIS’s warning was late by such a small amount that Tony heard every word the AI had said before everything went black, and his body was falling backwards.

“Sir, the device’s pulse seems to be spiking, might I recommend putting distance between it and yourself before a malfunction occurs?”

…

“Sir?!”

Tony had never quite heard JARVIS sound like that before, and somehow, that scared him more than the stomach lurching feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him, and his entire body going weightless.

So, yeah, Tony was absolutely, positively, done with this shit. And yet, he somehow doubted he could escape from this. So… as it turned out, he wasn’t done. …Sigh…

Chapter Text

Tony breathed out slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose and tightly closing his eyes.

Ok, so… he had no idea where he was, but it was definitely not somewhere he recognised.

…And he was on a roof, so… there was that.

He opened his eyes and carefully stepping forward to peer over the edge of the roof. Wherever he was, it looked like a hellhole. Well, a hellhole on earth in a city that was definitely not New York.

He scrunched his nose up, looking around. Something about this place smelt… off.

The air smelt stale and humid, a distinctive rotting trash smell wafting through the air, and Tony was glad that he was so far above the streets. …Well, he wasn’t high off the streets, he would estimate the building he was on was only two or so stories (assuming his depth perception was still okay), shortish compared to some of the buildings he could see in the distance, but the smell was reduced up here, so he was content for the moment.

The other thing he noticed, although it took a considerable moment, was how his body felt.

He was 42 years old, 43 later this year, and he knew he wasn’t an accurate example of the average 42-year-old. He needed to be fit and strong and have stamina to be Iron Man, and he needed muscle to make his own prototypes and to work on his cars and suits. He wasn’t Steve’s level of strength, but he was reasonably confident he wouldn’t fall far behind Clint in a battle of muscle and strength.

…Maybe. More likely if the spy was behind in his training.

Still, he was 42, and he had a heart condition.

He knew how his body felt on a daily basis.

He was always aware, he needed to be thanks to the fact that he had nerve damage on his hands, he got injured more often than not because of being Iron Man, and the fact that he slept the bare minimum he could get away with.

He needed to know what was his body protesting nutrient deficiencies, lack of sleep, simply being sore from working hard, or when something was actually wrong.

And remember, a heart condition that continues trying to kill him.

He was aware of the nerve damage still on his hands, and he was very aware of the metal cylinder lodged in his chest.

But… he didn’t feel the ache of age in his bones. He felt how his mind was tired, but his body felt… young. Painfully so. Actually, painfully was wrong, he was just… acutely aware of it, and it was weird. Tony had an eidetic memory (strangely enough, not a known fact), and he remembered how he felt as a young man.

It felt similar to how he felt now.

There were differences, of course there were differences!

Even if he had somehow de-aged 25 years, so much had changed that he’d always feel different, even if he didn’t have a chunk of metal lodged in his chest. But, it didn’t feel like he’d just become younger, it genuinely felt like his current body, every ailment and issue included, had just… gotten younger.

It was… strange.

To suddenly feel like a young man again and yet… still be exactly as you were. It was probably only because of his eidetic memory that he realised he’d gotten younger, or at least, that he felt younger.

But… after his parents died he… he changed quite drastically.

JARVIS was created in a weekend.

Dum-E was created in a week as a failed project.

And Tony reintroduced himself to society as Tony Stark, Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist™.

Tony wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d spent most of his early adulthood drunk out of his mind. He spent so much time bouncing between beds, the hospital, the lab, and parties that he didn’t have time to mourn.

He didn’t want to remember, so he didn’t remember.

…He remembered what happened, but he’d successfully managed to bury his feelings until he got older and could process it.

Admittedly, process it badly, but still process it.

The memory of the weekend that JARVIS was created was fresh in his mind, even after 25 years. And he remembered how much he’d hurt. He’d been a similar age then to however he felt now, and all those feelings he’d continued to neglect were trying to rise to the surface.

It was irritating.

…He… he couldn’t handle with that now. He couldn't handle it when he felt more mature, he couldn't handle it while feeling immature again.

Especially not when he didn’t know where he was, when he was on a roof, and when he needed to focus on staying, well, vaguely alive.

Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his hand coming up to press against the arc reactor, a silent reassurance that it was still there. If all else failed, if he truly had nothing other than the clothes on his back, he needed the arc reactor.

Without it… having nothing or everything wouldn’t really matter…

He glanced down, taking a moment to just… figure out what he had on him.

He was definitely not wearing what he had been before, that was for sure. He was in distinctly more… young clothes, something that Harley or Peter probably would’ve worn. A simple black hoodie (oversized, was that a trend amongst youth?), and jeans.

He couldn’t see the glow of his arc reactor through the material of his hoodie, and he was glad for that.

He checked his pockets, distinctly remembering having his phone on him before. An attempt to hear any calls he got without JARVIS needing to turn his music down, if it was in his pocket, he could, in theory, feel it vibrate.

It didn’t work, of course.

And he breathed out a small sigh of relief as he realised he had his phone, a specialised, one-of-a-kind Stark Phone (obviously).

The screen lit up, a dim glow to keep Tony from being flash-blinded, and he frowned as he realised he had no connection of any sort. And if JARVIS hadn’t immediately sent him a message or spoken to him… then it was probably safe to say JARVIS wasn’t here.

Which meant… it was safe to say that wherever he was, it wasn’t his Earth.

Assuming he was even on a version of Earth.

And for the second time in only a few minutes, he sighed.

His body felt young, and yet his mind still felt exactly as it did before; old.

Tony clicked his tongue, slipping his phone back into his pocket and making a mental note to find something to connect it to any network nearby. But for now… he needed to figure out if he should wait for the sun to rise because based on the gunshots and sounds around him, this place wasn’t particularly safe.

He was only hoping that, wherever he was, was an unusually bad area because if it wasn’t…

His goal would change from just getting settled and figuring out where he was, and it would become trying to get out of wherever he was.

But until then… he needed to figure out the differences compared to wherever he was now, and where he had been before. Namely, he needed to know the main differences, he needed to know what city he was in, and he needed to figure out the date.

Oh, and he needed shelter and food.

Those were probably important.

But he could take care of those as he needed to, and hopefully, he could keep himself safe as he focused on getting his bearings. The benefits of being the son of a billionaire who made most of his money and received his fame from warmongering, was that he learnt how to defend himself. He needed to defend himself, he couldn’t always be accompanied by bodyguards or witnesses.

And even if he hadn’t done much self-defence training recently (at least, he didn’t focus on the techniques), he should have enough strength and stamina and observational skills to stay safe long enough to get away.

Y'know, hopefully.

And even if he didn’t, he’d need to figure out how to stay safe because while he could probably afford to lose his phone, he’d rather not. He didn’t have the materials to hack another one right now, it was simply easier to keep his current one and just change some of the coding and wiring.

So, he knew what his first plans were.

…So what did he do now?

…Did he even know what the time was? No… and he doubted his phone was going to be 100% accurate…

So, he supposed that now it was time to find a clock.

…Somehow.

Tony peered down from the roof again, and upon watching what appeared to be a gang member attacking another gang member (of a conflicting gang? Who knew.), he decided that he would try and stay to the roofs. Meaning, he now got to act like one of those… 'parkour pros'.

…Was that the term?

Whatever.

Now, Tony had never done this before, he’d never thought he was going to do this before, and yet, here he was, about to try and do it.

…At least he wasn’t going to look like an old man while trying to do it.

He might act like an old man doing it, but at least he'd look physically young.

He just had to figure out how to do it…

He could probably jump to a nearby roof, a couple were around the same height as the one he was currently on, a couple were a little bit lower, and there were a few that were maybe a story or so higher.

Directly next to him, though? There was a same height building to his right, and two taller buildings behind him and to his left. The one behind him was definitely too tall though, so he settled for the building on his left. And hopefully, he could grab the fire escape and use that to climb upwards.

However, he felt like he was severely overestimating himself here. But he’d figure it out at some point.

So that’s what he did.

Tony carefully approached the left side of the building, was relieved to see that there was no gap between the building’s so he wouldn’t fall three stories if he failed, and he jumped up to grab the fire escape, clutching at the metal.

It creaked ever so slightly under his weight, and for a nerve-wracking moment, Tony wondered if this city had looked after its architecture and safety features. But he shoved those thoughts aside, gave himself false reassurances, and carefully pulled himself up, moving to the roof of the taller building.

…It did absolutely nothing for him. He was now even further from the smog and stench down below, and further from the crime, but he couldn’t see anything of worth or value. That was, admittedly, to be expected, but it still sucked. He could see some of the architecture better now, though, very gothic and… gargoyle oriented.

On the bright side, he was right, jumping from roof to roof was not particularly easy, and he was starting to think that some of his stamina and strength had disappeared when he de-aged.

…He didn’t actually have any proof that he’d de-aged other than the feeling, and the fact that he felt like he looked smaller than before, but whatever, a couple of things had changed. His respect for the spies and their special spy movements was steadily rising.

But after who knows how long (30 minutes? Tony wasn't really paying attention) he found himself standing above what appeared to be a time square.

On the surface, that did nothing to assist him.

Except for the fact that there was a library beneath him, and the sun was very slowly trying to shove its way through the heavy smog and pollution in the sky to light up the world. It was not succeeding.

So, now he could (hopefully) access a computer, meaning he could handle the basic knowledge he needed to find. Hopefully, there was a bathroom that he could slip into to figure out of he was actually younger than he was only an hour or so beforehand.

…And he was probably going to check the arc reactor… just to make sure everything was fine…

So, current question, is the library open?

Tony carefully found a way down to the street, another fire escape and then a jump where he prayed not to break anything, and he just lingered in an alleyway. He kept an ear out, making sure he was aware of everything around him, and he was very conscious of the fact that he probably looked like he was going to mug someone.

The entirely black clothes he wore didn’t help. But, he didn’t care at the moment, he wasn’t planning on mugging anyone, so he didn’t bother caring what anyone thought.

A surprising number of people walked past him, some glanced at him, others ignored him, none went near the library.

Whether that was because the library wasn’t open or because they just didn’t want to go in was the question.

But he assumed it must’ve been about 5am? He was taking a lot of guesses.

He assumed he was in America. He had been before his experiment went to shit, so he continued assuming that he was still in America. And if he was in America, he could take a guess about what the time might be.

He needed to figure out the exact time, though.

But Tony was patient, he was fiddling with everything he had on him, but he was patient.

His hand in his hoodie’s pocket as he fiddled with his phone might’ve been suspicious, though.

Oh, well.

So after however many minutes (about an hour) of just leaning against a wall, staring intently at the library doors, he finally saw someone walk up the stairs and try the door. The door opened, and Tony grinned, relieved that he could escape the cold he’d been ignoring.

He peeked out of the alleyway, quickly crossing the square and few roads cutting between the buildings to approach the library. Of course, there was a chance that had been an employee, but… He was willing to risk embarrassment on the hope that the library was open.

And, thankfully, despite his luck, the library was indeed open.

Thank god…

He walked inside, pausing as he glanced around. It was just as architect cantered as the outside of wherever he was.

…Did the library say the city he was in?

…Considering the fact that he’d been staring at the library for a solid hour, he should probably know that. But he’d read the word ‘library’ on the building, and he hadn't look any further. So, if the library was called… ‘City’ Library, then… he didn’t see it.

At all.

But again, he now had access to computers!

…Hopefully.

He caught sight of a sign at the reception desk.

‘Ring the bell if you need any help. Computers for guest log ins are towards the back wall.’

That was awfully convenient.

Tony nodded to himself, simply choosing to walk through the library, and making sure to look at all the genre signs to see if anything was different. There was nothing that he could see that was noticeably different, so he just moved onto the library computers designated for guest log ins.

He understood why, the computers were all… old, but the guest log in computers were worse.

So, at least he knew that it was before 2013.

*****

…2014.

It was 2014 and the tech here looked like it was from 1993.

How?

His first priority changed quite drastically.

Instead of figuring out where he was, or figuring out the main differences, he searched for himself. And found absolutely nothing familiar.

Tony breathed out slowly, glancing up and around to make sure no one was near him.

He'd been positively thrilled that the guest log in computers faced the wall, meaning, no one could sneak up behind him, but now he was glad for a different reason.

Now it was time to find databases to search for every and any Tony Stark or news about him that would potentially prove Tony existed.

…Or, at least, that a version of him existed.

*****

Genius Tony Stark didn’t exist here.

The computers immediately made sense.

Well… at least he could provide a steady income stream?

…Or at least, he could probably find somewhere that would give him at least a few benefits.

Ok. Now he knew.

He also knew he didn’t exist either, so… he decided to do something about that first.

…After he checked to figure out if he was actually younger.

He was indeed younger.

He didn’t have his goatee anymore, his hair was longer and his face shape was softer. He did, just as he suspected, look like he did 25 years ago; he was 17 again.

Tony didn’t know how he felt about that.

But, he couldn’t do anything about it right now, so he instead chose to return to the computer, and fake provide a few documents to prove his identity. Then he did basic searches for Captain America, the Avengers, and for the hell of it, the Iron Patriot.

No searches that meant anything to him.

So onto figuring out where he was.

…New Jersey?

…Huh.

Out of everywhere he could’ve gone, he wouldn’t have ever picked New Jersey, but whatever. Tony pulled up a map, squinting at the name his little dot flashed under.

Gotham.

And there was a Metropolis nearby.

…Was Metropolis by chance a metropolis? Stupid name…

Searching Gotham, however, led to links about vigilantes and villains galore. Gotham was… definitely the hellhole Tony had called it beforehand.

Joy.

Someone named Batman seemed to be the main vigilante, and he somehow appeared to link into something called the Justice League (note to self: need to research that too).

This Batman seemed to, lacking better words, own Gotham. He had a ‘no meta’ rule (the fuck was a meta?), he was responsible for the smaller (literally) vigilantes running around, and he seemed to be closely connected to someone called Bruce Wayne.

The Tony Stark of this place if the articles he found were anything to go by. Except, nowhere near as technologically advanced.

Ok, so.

He’d walked into the library at about 6am.

In theory, the library was open from 5? He hadn’t seen anyone open it, so it was either always opened (24/7 library?) or someone opened it from the inside and people just knew when to come inside.

He’d been busy manufacturing finding his records to satiate any curious eyes and doing some basic research about this place for about an hour.

It was now around 7am.

So, time to see if he could link his phone up to this place’s satellites.

Now, Stark Phones as a whole had a generic, always easy to find charging port.

Tony’s phone was different.

However, thankfully, he had an attachment that meant a generic charging cable could work. Once it was charging with a generic cable or being connected to a computer via that cable, you needed a set of codes to verify who was using the phone (for safety reasons, obviously).

Except that wasn’t obvious, so only Tony or JARVIS would ever be able to access his phone at any given time.

And luckily, the generic cable in his world was the same as the one here.

So he plugged his phone in, and he hoped his encryption systems would keep everything safe until he could weasel his phone into this world properly.

Once that happened, he would be infinitely better off than before.

Why? Because his phone could comfortably mimic the level of computers that he owned, which were far above the level of computers here.

…Assuming everything worked.

Currently, he just needed to secure an internet connection which would allow him to contact emergency services, and keep an eye on local news.

Based on what he’d read, if you kept up on the news anywhere, Gotham was the place for that, especially with the minute-by-minute updates of issues, complications, and gossip that seemed to be everywhere.

It was… a strange experience to link his phone into Gotham’s network.

Mainly because something else in the building was connected to the same network in its entirety. If Tony had cared more, he probably would’ve looked into that. Except he didn’t care, so once his phone was half-assedly connected, he disconnected and was about to log off.

Until a thought crossed his mind. Tony Stark was what everyone knew him as in his world. But that wasn’t his name. So he did one more search.

Anthony Edward Stark.

That came up with a couple of results, namely, an article about a missing boy. Same age, similar appearances, different families. Maria and Howard Stark were not this boy’s parents.

Tony hesitated slightly, and he wondered if he should’ve focused on this first. But if this boy was missing, taking his records and documents would only hurt Tony in the long run, so he left it as was.

Researching that to another thought, where could he stay?

He decided to keep his phone plugged in, making sure it charged as much as possible before Tony eventually left. And he looked for shelters or soup kitchen’s nearby. And he found Bruce Wayne’s name again, funding something called the 'Martha Wayne Foundation'.

And there was a shelter nearby in somewhere called, The Bowery.

Looking at the map, he figured that’s where he had been before.

Well, he could find his way there. But he needed a way to find money…

The sound of wheels on the floor approaching him from the side caught his attention, but he didn’t acknowledge it, making sure that there was nothing incriminating on his screen.

Looking for various things throughout Gotham was fine, he could easily pass off as a tourist.

“Do you need any help?” a feminine voice asked, and Tony finally turned to observe her.

For starters, she had red hair, a badge signalling that she worked here, and she was in a wheelchair.

He put on his calm, for-the-public smile.

“Not at the moment,” he dipped his head towards her, making himself look ever-so-slightly smaller and more… teen like. Hopefully. Tony hadn't been a teenager for a long time…

She nodded, glancing past his screen casually. “Well, you should probably get going soon,” she said lightly, her voice calm and as neutral as possible. “School starts soon, and you wouldn’t want to be caught by the GCPD.”

Ahh… school.

Joy.

Technically, by the age of 17 he’d almost graduated from MIT.

He probably couldn’t say that here, though, so…

“I’m not enrolled in any yet,” he said, deciding to play the card of ‘poor-homeless-kid-with-no-useful-help’. “I’ve just moved here, and… I’m not really sure where anything is,” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

The woman smiled, nodding in understanding. “Well, there are plenty of schools in the area near designated housing,” she said, smiling at him. “Or you could try for a position at Gotham Academy,” she suggested. “They hold entrance exams before every semester, and you could potentially end up with a stipend.”

Tony tilted his head. “Gotham Academy?”

His eyes flicked to his computer screen, a hand already typing the school into the search bar. The first option was a couple of news feeds regarding the school. They mostly spoke about rich and famous families sending their kids there, or a couple of events the school was holding.

Presumably, it was similar to the school he went to; only the elite went there. Elite was a strange category, though. The rich, the famous, and the smart went to his school, they were at the top in whichever field they belonged to.

Tony had been all three, except he’d 3–4 years younger than everyone else.

Tony had not enjoyed school.

But he could probably end up in the smart category here.

Sorry, he could definitely end up in the smart category, he just needed to pick a level that wouldn’t draw too much attention to him.

So in went the term ‘scholarship’ into his search, and up popped many Gotham Academy scholarships.

The woman raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth. “Do you need help applying? The process can be a little bit tricky sometimes,” she smiled, and Tony smiled at her.

“I’m sure I can manage, ma’am,” he dipped his head, declining.

He’d need to deal with the application himself, and he’d need to carefully proceed so that he didn’t raise any red flags within any systems.

She laughed lightly, waving him off. “No need for the ma’am,” she smiled. “I’m Barbara,” she held her hand out, and Tony hesitated, momentarily clenching his fist as he watched her hand.

He shifted slightly, the sleeve of the hoodie falling to cover most of his hand, and he shook her hand that way. She tilted her head a fraction, obviously noting his reaction, but she kindly didn’t say anything.

“Tony,” he told her, pulling his hand away.

…Was Tony a strange name for a teenager in 2014?

…Whatever, it didn’t matter.

She nodded, her hands returning to the hand holds on her wheelchair.

“If you need anything, feel free to come up to the desk,” she wheeled away, and Tony’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before he focused his attention back on the screen.

Ok, time to apply for school. Yay…

At least this time he’d be the right age…

So off he went to carefully apply to this elite school.

A scholarship and a stipend would benefit him, especially right now. School gives him time to be somewhere warm (hopefully), get access to facilities, potentially food, and all sorts of equipment.

Ideally, he’d do his best to network, but let's be honest, he would be entering this school as a nobody, and he didn’t intend to stay here that long. He just needed to stay long enough to figure out a way to fix that formula (because who knew if it would send him back to his Earth or to another Earth…).

Now, where to stay…

Being the son of a billionaire meant he never went cold or hungry or without a home. But after last year with Killian, he’d gone cold, he’d gone hungry, he’d been alone, and he’d been without a home.

There was no way to say whether he’d be able to successfully manage here in Gotham, but he at least had an idea of what to do now.

Although, he didn’t have Harley to help him this time.

With his recent knowledge of being without a home, and with his experience in Afghanistan, he could probably half ass everything until he could properly get his bearings.

So, with a confirmation of his entrance exam slot, a new email connected to his phone, and a game plan (and reminder), he finally logged off the computer and off he went, preparing to leave the library with the plan of exploring the Bowery and finding somewhere to stay.

He passed by Barbara on his way out, giving her a small smile with his hands firmly in his pockets. She smiled back, momentarily covering the speaker of the phone she held to her ear.

“Good luck, Tony,” her eyes lingered on him until he’d left, and she spoke into the phone. “Hey, Tim? Can you do me a favour?”

*****

The Bowery was… not good.

It was like the crappy crime filled alley ways of New York except… everywhere.

Very not good.

And it seemed not to be much safer during the day, crimes were just occurring in more private areas. Tony avoided those areas, keeping close to the street and refusing to relax until he found somewhere that he knew would be safe.

He doubted that would be anywhere.

He passed by a handful of… shelters that were very obviously fake, and he walked past a handful of abandoned buildings which were most definitely not empty, and a couple of stores that somehow seemed to be open and running.

He made notes of the places, wondering if the few scrappy tech places would be of any value to him. He focused most on the bar and diner he passed by.

Tony was no longer old enough to drink, but truthfully, he hadn’t been drinking much anywhere except the lab for a while, he could, however, see if he could find a job there, however temporary. If they were content with hiring a minor as a bartender, then chances were he’d make good enough money that he could steadily work on finding somewhere safer to stay.

And he could give himself a fake Licence to Serve Alcohol (if that was even necessary).

He focused on the diner with hopes they’d have cheap prices because that might become his only certain food source for a while.

Eventually, Tony somehow found himself in an abandoned street, plenty of apartments and buildings that had been broken into nearby, but no people that he could see. And a specific apartment building caught his eye.

The door was bolted shut, a warning sign explaining that the bottom few floors were unsafe and that the top floors were inaccessible.

So, of course, Tony was sticking this place as a possible base of operations.

He’d need to climb up, probably via roof access, though.

So he walked around the area, keeping an eye out and looking for a way onto any of the roofs on that side of the street. And… there was another fire escape, hidden behind a building that it was obvious no one went to.

So up he went, using the escape to go as far up as he could.

It didn’t quite reach the roof, but there were ledges that Tony could use to carefully jump up to the roof.

Dangerous if he fell, but if this gave him somewhere safe to stay for the moment, then he could handle dangerous.

And a benefit?

It meant he’d be able to slowly work on his stamina and strength as a passive thing.

That was probably important right now.

The path across the roofs was smooth, yes he needed to follow the uneven roofs up and down, but there were ways up and down that he barely needed to even stop for. And luckily for him, it was easy to get into the top floors of that apartment building.

The dust and crap inside momentarily concerned him, if he ended up in a coughing fit with the arc reactor it would hurt and not end well, but he was willing to temporarily take the chance.

The biggest concern he had regarding the arc reactor was getting sick. Getting sick had never been fun before, but with a cold chunk of metal in his chest near his heart and lungs and taking up space his ribs should’ve been in, getting sick could potentially be a death sentence for him.

And yes, he knew how dramatic that sounded.

So, he’s found shelter.

Now he needs water.

He carefully moved around the abandoned apartment, looking for a bathroom or sink so he could see if there was any water pressure.

…Or water at all.

If there wasn’t he could potentially fix it, make a temporary solution, and if there was he could comfortably find some materials to make a satisfactory filter.

Thankfully, there was water.

He wasn’t sure how safe it was, and he wasn’t sure when he could find the materials for a filter, but if worse came to worst, he could probably find a café and ask for some water while he spent time fixing everything up.

First things first, clean up somewhere that he could sleep.

He wasn’t certain that this place was completely abandoned, and he wasn’t going to waste his energy only to be kicked out in a week. All he needed was somewhere relatively clean to sleep for his health, and he could slowly clean up once he was sure he would be safe to stay here.

By that point, it was about mid-morning, and he could spend a couple of hours meticulously cleaning an area with the few materials he had.

There was even a chance he’d find some things he could use to fix up aspects of the apartment as well.

A small chance, but still a chance.

He’d need to figure out food, though…

*****

As it turned out, his temporary ‘home’ was near a soup kitchen type thing, and he could very comfortably find food. They’d even been nice enough to give him a bottle of water, which he could use until he could make a filter for the sinks.

He didn’t particularly feel like returning straight to the abandoned apartment, though, so instead he sat on one of the roofs.

Not the roof of the building he was staying in, but a roof nearby on the same chunk.

He'd chosen the highest roof he could find, wanting to get as far away from the stench below as he could. There was the small benefit of giving him a chance to get further away from the sounds of the street as well.

Wherever he was seemed to be hidden away from most crime, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear plenty of it, the further up he was, the fainter some of those sounds were.

He could handle that.

He wasn’t expecting someone else to join him on the roof, though.

But the sound of something metal hitting the side of the building, the mechanical sound of rope moving quickly, and the sound of feet hitting the ground behind him was undeniable.

As was the sound of a soft grunt.

Tony shifted, slightly pushing himself back away from the edge of the roof and partially turning his body. Presumably, he was being looked at in turn, but the red helmet didn’t exactly show the stranger's eyes.

Still, the red helmet’s face was in Tony’s direction, it was safe to assume he was being looked at.

The man was decked out with guns and a leather jacket, and he looked like some of the gang members Tony had seen in passing on his journey towards the library (minus the red helmet).

Except, he very obviously wasn’t.

Tony recalled reading about someone of this description, a Red Hood, or something. He was vaguely linked to Batman, but from what Tony read, they disagreed with each other more than not.

Tony could get behind that.

“…Sitting on the edge, huh?” Red Hood asked, his voice strangely casual despite the mechanical edge.

A voice changer, probably.

“…Not anymore,” Tony shrugged, glancing at the gap he’d out between him and the edge when the… vigilante had landed.

…Vigilante? Anti-hero? He looked a lot like an anti-hero…

“Swinging over the edge?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Not anymore.” Red Hood’s hand rested on his gun, peering down at the 17-year-old in front of him.

The kid sitting on the edge of a roof was mildly concerning, but the way that he’d backed away from the edge when Red Hood had landed was a relaxing gesture.

Still, a kid sitting on a roof wasn’t usually a normal thing. “Run away from home?”

Tony narrowed his eyes a fraction at the masked vigilante. “No.”

“Need a break from home?”

“No.”

“Need somewhere to stay?”

Tony paused at that. He had an idea about why Red Hood was asking so many things, but he hadn’t quite expected that question. “I’m good,” he shook his head, tilting his head slightly as he rested his elbow on his knee.

Red Hood nodded slowly, observing the kid’s body posture. He seemed relaxed, like he wasn’t worried or nervous about anything.

Suspicious of Red Hood, but not nervous.

He could respect that, the kid had guts (and hopefully, they stayed inside his body).

They just stared at each other for a long moment, Red Hood ignoring Oracle’s voice in his ear as she provided information through his channel of the comms.

The sun had set a couple of hours ago, and Red Hood had been out since the sun set, wanting to escape from the Manor and a ‘mandatory’ family thing Dickiebird had insisted on.

“You’re not from around here,” Red Hood said bluntly, shifting his stance ever so slightly to closely watch the kid.

Tony didn’t respond, instead continuing to peer up at him.

Sirens were starting to go off in the distance, and Tony absentmindedly wondered if Red Hood was going to go deal with it, or just continue to stare at him.

Red Hood continued to ignore the voices speaking in his ear, until Oracle specifically spoke to him, mentioning reports of two gangs having an… ‘argument’ nearby.

He sighed, grabbing his grappling gun and walking towards the edge of the roof, near the kid, but keeping distance between them.

“Don’t trust anyone around here, kid,” he said, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement from the kid before he left.

Tony raised an eyebrow, but nodded, leaning forward slightly as he watched Red Hood grapple away.

He shifted back to the edge of the roof, leaning forward and watching the vigilante until he was out of sight.

He sighed, looking up at the smog filled sky.

It was late, and while Tony was never one to enforce curfews, he hadn’t slept in a while. He’d been awake a whole 18 or so hours longer than he’d been planning too (and he’d already been awake for a while before that), but he was fed, had temporary shelter, and a clean space to sleep.

He might as well take the chance to rest a little bit, who knew what would happen tomorrow?

The entrance exam for Gotham Academy was still about a week away (cutting it close to the semester, but Tony decided to just go with the flow, it didn’t particularly matter to him), so Tony could afford to sleep for however long he needed to; thus he didn’t need to bother with an alarm.

Chances were if anything happened or changed, Tony would wake up, he’d become a lot more sensitive since Afghanistan and Killian, his sleep being deep until something in his area changed.

But he did need sleep, and he didn’t need to regulate how much sleep he got with an alarm at the moment.

So he returned to his temporary home, and settled down to sleep, conscious of the fact that for the time being, he was alone.

Chapter Text

Tony’s body ached when he woke up.

This was a lot more familiar to how he felt before he’d been de-aged (which was still a mystery to him), and somehow it was almost relieving.

Except for the fact that it meant he’d slept terribly and now felt like shit.

But ignoring that, it was almost relieving how familiar he felt again. He’d get used to being young again, to feeling young again, but he’d need time for that.

And, knowing his luck, the moment he got used to the feeling, it would be reversed.

Checking the time, he wasn't surprised to realise he’d slept through a day.

It wasn’t good, but he’d been awake and managing on coffee for a comfortable 60 or so hours. And he’d originally been planning on going to sleep after 42 hours (yes, specific time frames), then he’d gotten teleported to Gotham.

Side note, it meant that his formula and theory had worked!

It also meant that it had made everything go to shit, but it worked, so… experiment successful?

Whatever.

The rest of the week was mostly spent exploring the area, finding scraps and whatnot to build a filter, and slowly cleaning up aspects of the abandoned apartment.

Life was very dull when he didn’t have much to do. But he took a risk and the day before his entrance exam he found himself approaching the bar he spotted when he first arrived in the neighbourhood, and this time there was a sign for ‘help wanted’.

Tony took the chance and walked inside, approaching the bar and keeping a cool expression on his face.

There was only one other person was inside, and he was greeted with a stern face, short blond hair, and green eyes.

The woman at the bar glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “You have an ID?”

He shook his head.

“Money?”

He shook his head again.

“We don’t serve to minors.”

“I saw the help wanted sign,” he spoke before she could turn away, standing in front of the bar and watching her.

She paused, glancing towards him and putting a rag down.

 “You want to work here?”

He nodded.

“This isn’t a safe place for kids.”

 “Good thing I’m not a kid, then,” he said lightly, his hands slipping in his pocket as he smiled coolly at her. “I just need something part-time, you don’t need to pay me a full wage."

He wasn’t stupid enough to assume he’d get full pay.

Nor was he stupid enough to assume he could work full-time. He sincerely doubted he could if he was going to school.

But he just needed any sort of money, even if it wasn’t much (not that he would exactly know what wasn't much, even after last year).

 The woman narrowed her eyes at him, not saying anything for a long moment. “…Can you mix drinks?” she asked, resting her hands on the bar as she observed Tony.

 He smiled. “Yes.”

 “Show me.”

 He blinked as she walked to the side of the bar, opening a side door and motioning for him to come through.

That was… awfully easy.

…Should it have been that easy?

She leaned back against the bar, closely watching him as he rolled his sleeves up. If she noticed the ever so slightly off skin littered across his forearms and hands, she didn’t mention it.

 He appreciated it.

“Know how to make a Manhattan?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and watching as he nodded, his body twisting at the waist to look over the alcohol and tools available.

She watched as he grabbed a mixing glass and stirring stick, looking through the bar area for ice and the alcohol needed.

He scooped some ice into the mixing glass, finding measuring cups and rye whiskey, sweet vermouth and bitters. He measured out two ounces of rye whiskey, 1 ounce of sweet vermouth, and he put two dashes of bitters into the mixing glass.

Tony put the bottles back as he finished using them, finding the designated area for used measuring cups. He stirred the drink, using the outside to feel how cold the liquid was getting.

He strained it into a glass before pausing.

 “Don’t need the garnish,” she said, reaching out to take the glass from him and sniff it.

Obviously, he'd usually need to add garnish, but the main reason for mixing this drink was to see if he could mix drinks.

Evidently, he could.

That raised the question of why a teenager knew how to mix a Manhattan without even looking up the recipe, but that wasn’t exactly her concern.

 She hummed softly, and Tony watched as she sipped the drink, nodding approvingly. She put the glass down, tilting her chin up to peer at him for a moment.

“…Tomorrow, 6pm, come to the back door. Real names are discouraged,” she said, pushing off the bar and grabbing a rag. “Oh, and I’m Leah,” she smiled at him, holding out her hand.

Tony raised an eyebrow, not moving for a moment. “…Eddie,” he responded, pulling his sleeve down to cover his hand so he could shake hers.

Except, she pulled her hand away before that. He blinked, but didn’t complain.

“Our clientele can sound violent, but don’t worry. The bar’s a neutral zone,” she smiled at him. “We’ll work out hours and pay tomorrow.”

 Tony nodded, smiled, and left, content that he now had a potential income stream alongside a potential stipend from Gotham Academy.

Which led to the next day and the entrance exam.

*****

…Had school always been this easy?

Tony had stumbled slightly on the history and geography sections, but he had enough knowledge from his brief set of searches to know at least a handful of the answers.

Everything else, though?

There were 3 hours allotted for 6 subjects (sports ed not included). Tony was comfortably finished in 30 minutes (which would’ve been 20 if the history and geography of this place hadn’t changed slightly).

 Yes, he knew he was probably being cocky, and that finishing so soon probably wasn't smart, but did he care?

Not really.

If it screwed him over, he'd figure it out later.

But lunch was offered, and a tour of the facilities was as well, so it was definitely worth his time turning up for the test.

Tony felt out of place in his current clothes, but that was also a familiar feeling.

It did feel a tad cruel to offer a tour when placements weren’t certain, but hey, rich people could be assholes. Tony knew that.

He couldn’t even accurately say he’d gotten a position at the school at all.

Being classified as a certified genius would draw unwanted attention, so for the test Tony was just… smart (which, now that he thought about it, meant that finishing the test in 30 minutes might not have been his best idea… Oops).

But he didn’t know how smart everyone else was. He had the speed, but for all he knew everyone else got similar answers.

The school was nice, though, and again, very architectural.

That seemed to be a theme.

And Tony got a look at the official uniform.

Black dress shoes, dark blue slacks, white button up shirt, navy blue and grey striped tie, and a dark blue blazer (which was optional?).

Yay… Private school run #2…

Except this time while he was going in at the right age, he wasn’t rich or famous here. At all.

Philips Academy (his original high school) had been much like Gotham Academy, but Tony had been rich, and famous. The problem at that school was that he started when he was 7, and he graduated when he was 14.

 Everything about his situation had been typical to end up perfectly set up as popular.

…Except for the fact that no teenager wanted to be besties to a 7-year-old.

So… yeah. Not great.

One way or another, he continued to be different no matter which school he went to. But again, he had experience with this, and he was good at ignoring people.

Years of paparazzi and cameras being shoved in his face ensured that.

The labs were top quality for a high school, probably around Midtown High level (from what he occasionally read about the school). Peter would enjoy this lab if he went here. …Y'know, with a bunch of safety precautions.

Young children around chemicals and radiation was… probably not ideal.

The classrooms were typical, except everything in them was high quality. The lockers were typical lockers, except presumably, they all worked properly. The cafeteria had good food (shocking. …Maybe, Tony actually had no idea if it was shocking or not), and the few teachers that had been there were all snobs.

So basically, Philips Academy but… 30ish years in the future.

Joy.

 Tony was glad to leave.

The exam had started at about 11am, and he’d managed to leave at about 4, meaning he had 5 hours until he needed to be back at the bar for his first shift (here’s hoping that he got paid tonight, because if he didn’t than he’d need to quickly find another solution for finding a uniform).

So he went to the library.

Why?

He should probably learn more about history. Geography didn’t matter, history probably mattered more…

Barbara was at the front desk when he arrived.

She was tapping away on something, presumably a laptop hidden from sight, but she glanced up when he walked in and smiled at him.

“Tony, it’s nice to see you again,” she greeted him. “How did the exam go?” she asked, and for a moment Tony wondered how she knew he’d come from the exam.

Until he realised, she’d mentioned it to him, she probably knew when the exam had been the entire time.

 “I think it went well,” he smiled at her, his hands in his pocket again. “History stumped me a little bit though,” he decided it wouldn’t harm to tell the librarian in the library that history wasn’t his best subject.

 She smiled understandingly. “History was never my best subject either,” she said lightly, looking to the side and typing on a library computer, probably used to find books or titles or check things out. “If you want, I can find you some books,” she suggested, smiling kindly at him. “Unless you’d prefer searching on a computer,” she joked.

She definitely preferred computers.

 “Well, books never hurt when doing research,” he smiled, accepting her offer to help. He did grow up when books were the only way to get information. “…Can I do anything to help you, in exchange?” he asked lightly, mimicking her tone, privately hating the idea of being in someone’s debt.

He already owed her for the tip about Gotham Academy, he didn’t want to owe her anything else.

 Barbara glanced at him, and her lips parted slightly before she considered something. “If you could, can you just put those books in the kids section? They’re all part of a set so just find the right spot in the alphabet and put them in,” she smiled at him, nodding her head towards a box of books on a tray. Probably recently donated or bought. “I’ll type out a list and print it for you in the meantime.”

 Tony smiled, nodding as he relaxed slightly.

There, debt expunged.

“Sure thing."

He picked up the box, careful to make sure he wasn’t going to pull anything (old person mind still in play…), and he started searching the library for the kids section.

It was reasonably easy to find, it was absolutely covered in rainbows. A complete 180º to outside. He found the right part of the alphabet, and in the books went. Reasonably quickly if he did say so himself.

And back to the desk he went with an empty box to find a list of book titles printed out, and a small sticky note stuck to the page.

‘So sorry, had to run out for a second. Family emergency! Thank you for your help, here’s the list! Should give you basic knowledge of everything school will want!’

Tony’s brows furrowed slightly as he read about the family emergency, but he shrugged it off.

It wasn’t any of his business.

He made a mental note to thank Barbara for the list next time her saw her though. And so off he went, finding the books that looked interesting (that obviously contained altered history), and he did a little bit of internet searching for major events.

The Justice League popped up a lot.

So down that pathway he went.

 They kinda seemed to be like the Avengers, except… more established, and they seemed to actually like each other.

Also, they had secret identities. Unlike himself.

Pepper had just about killed him for that…

Anyways, the information he found was… interesting.

One immediate similarity he noticed, this Superman was a lot like Captain America.

Except Superman hadn’t met Tony’s father, so he was already above Steve in Tony’s mind (not that he’d ever admit that he held a grudge against his long dead father).

And a couple of hours later with a new arsenal of knowledge about this place Tony was leaving the computers, putting the books he’d found away, and on his way to leave the library.

 Barbara was back at the desk and there was a man standing with her.

He was probably a similar age to Barbara, around early 20s. He had black hair and blue eyes and the type of smile that screamed ‘publicity training’.

Although it could’ve been a real smile too.

Tony truly didn’t care enough to figure out whether it was a real smile or not.

He simply wanted to thank Barbara and leave.

 She saw him approaching.

“Thank you for putting those books away,” she thanked him in person. “Sorry for taking off, but you know how it is. Did the books help?” she asked, and Tony glanced towards blue-eyes before focusing on her and smiling.

 “Very much. Thank you again,” he dipped his head.

“I’m glad,” she smiled before glancing towards the man and clearing her throat. “I hope you get into Gotham Academy.”

Tony saw the man’s expression change slightly from the corner of his eye, but he chose to ignore it.

“Finger’s crossed,” he showed his hand with a grin before his hands returned to his pockets. “Good luck with your family,” he added before turning and leaving before they could stop him.

She’d mentioned it, so it wasn’t like he was being strange for mentioning it in passing.

He was just being empathetic.

…He thinks.

 Emotions were not Tony’s strong point.

“That smile…” the man muttered, his voice barely reaching Tony’s ears before he was gone from sight.

*****

Tony had been heading towards the bar when he suddenly had a thought that made him falter.

Somehow he doubted he’d be allow to wear a hoodie for this job, but…

What about the arc reactor?

It’s glow wasn’t obvious through the material of a black hoodie, but what if it was obvious through whatever uniform he’d probably have to wear?

And if he was accepted into Gotham Academy, he’d need to figure out how to keep the arc reactor secret.

So he had to very quickly find some sort of solution.

…He did not have a solution.

He’d figured out quickly that, for some reason, the clothes he turned up with included a reasonably thick tank top, and, upon cleaning the apartment and taking the hoodie off for a couple moments, he realised the glow was somewhat dimished.

But the glow was still visible, and that had been during the day where white light wouldn't show up as well under a white surface as it would at nice.

Maybe another layer would help cover the glow more, or at least to a point where tony could gaslight people about it (was that the phrase?), but he’d need to figure out a permanent solution at some point. 

But right now, he was hoping for the best.

In order to keep the amount of layers needed to be worn to a minimum, Tony was thinking that maybe a bandage covering the arc reactor would work, but that would be a test for when he had money.

He’d never had to worry about this before, because it wasn’t a secret that Tony Stark had something in his chest, but here? He didn’t want to risk anything until he could guarantee his own safety.

Plus, a bandage covering it might be able to keep the metal from cooling down (which was not good when the metal was in his body).

Tony arrived at the bar a couple of minutes early (note to self, turn up earlier, turning up so close to the time made his chest feel weird), but finding the back entrance had been… a little bit frustrating.

Not because it was hard to find, but because it was hard to find the way to the back alley the back entrance led onto.

The back entrance itself was easy to find, and once he knocked on the door he was being let in by male Leah. He had the same blond hair, although a tad shorter, and the same green eyes.

He didn’t look anywhere near as stern though.

 “Eddie?” he asked, observing Tony with a curious look.

 Tony nodded, peering at male Leah with a similar, although more toned down, expression. Male Leah grinned.

“C’mon, Lele told me to give you your uniform,” male Leah gave him a crooked grin. “The names Jack,” he didn’t hold out a hand, instead choosing to give Tony a small salute in greeting.

Tony gave a small grin back, mimicking his movement.

You know… it’s surprisingly easy to be so relaxed and chill when you aren’t famous… Tony’s had fun, but he’d never had fun.

Especially as a teenager.

At 17 he’d been graduating from MIT, his parents had just died, he was being moulded to take over the company known for warmongering.

That left little room for teenage fun.

He hadn’t gotten a chance to have fun, and even before that he’d been a teenager in college. He hadn’t been able to party, to have proper fun, he hadn’t even had a friend until he met Rhodey.

Yes, technically he was 42, he was not a teenager he just looked like one.

But he remembered what it was like to be a teenager.

He remembered all the things he missed out on, and some part of his brain was just… falling back into what it was like to be 17 again.

This was a very strange situation…

 And he was definitely happy that Jack was an adult, because Tony was vaguely uncomfortable with the idea of being close with teenagers.

…That wasn’t in a father/son way.

Which he didn’t know anything about, because Peter and Harley were just… friends.

…Who were tiny people… Who had internships!

Yes, that’s how he knew them.

…Tony felt like he was spiralling right now…

And not in a good way.

Jack gave Tony a standard uniform, slacks, white button up shirt, vest. Maybe strange for a bar, maybe strange for such a shitty area, but a typical waiters uniform.

…And a typical bartender uniform now that he thought about it.

He changed into it, not really needing to think about it as he rolled the sleeves up, made sure the collar was flattened, and made sure his hair didn’t look too shaggy.

He had a lot of experience with clothes like this.

 And he was so incredibly relieved that the glow of his arc reactor was well hidden. As it turned out, the shirt itself was less of a dress shirt, and was actually made of quick a dense material.

Meaning it was beyond cheap, but Tony was fine with that.

He was sure there’d be a tiny glow in complete darkness, but Tony was fully prepared to lie and pretend nothing was there if anyone asked.

Hopefully no one would ask though.

 “Ok, so,” Jack clapped his hands together as he gave Tony a once over, blinking slightly as he realised that Tony didn’t need any help.

Tony didn’t know why, it wasn’t like the uniform was overly complicated.

“I assume Leah told you that real names probably shouldn’t be used here?”

 “I know their discouraged,” Tony nodded, his hands slipping into his pockets and his attitude slipping slightly back into ‘rich boy’.

 “Well, the fake names staff use for each other are also discouraged,” Jack smiled, ignoring the way Tony’s brows furrowed. “Yes, I know, it’s strange. But staff aren’t necessarily trustworthy, and clientele are even worse. So, pick a name.”

 “…Pick another name…?” Tony frowned slightly, thinking. “…uhh…” Tony was surprisingly struggling with this.

It couldn’t be a ‘cringe’ name, or a ‘I’m so powerful!’ name… He could go with a month or day…

“…August,” he said slowly, carefully watching Jack’s reaction to the name.

Tony wasn’t sure about it, but no one could get offended by the name August.

…Right?

 “August it is!” Jack grinned, despite raising an eyebrow. “If you do well tonight Leah will get you a nametag for your next shift. You’re only serving as a bartender tonight, so you don’t have to comply to any demands about fetching anything,” Jack motioned for Tony to follow him.

“You’re working with the others, they probably won’t give you any name for a while. The recipe book is under the counter, it should be easy to find, there’s a note that tells you where all the equipment is, and another bartender is sticking on for about another hour. Ask him if you need anything,” Jack gave the rundown, about to open the door to the open bar before pausing. “And under no circumstance can you tell anyone your age.”

 Tony blinked.

 “Not for legal reasons, no one cares about the law here,” Jack specified. “But because some of the people here are… not good with children. And we don’t know who they are. And if you were followed home and hurt Leah would feel responsible and she’d be wrecked with guilt. …Which means I’d have to take over the bar and I don’t want to do that,” Jack smiled and Tony only raised an eyebrow with an unamused look on his face.

“Yeah, no one seems to find that funny. I don’t know why,” Jack shrugged before grinning. “Off you go, and remember, we aren’t responsible if you piss anyone off.”

Tony snorted softly as he was gently pushed through the door and towards the bar.

Sure enough, there was another bartender there – how surprising! He was told there’d be a bartender, and there was indeed a bartender!

 The bartender in question was very comfortably in his late 30s to early 40s, much like Tony was supposed to be.

He was muscular, looked like ex-army except so recently that he still had all the muscle. He had a buzzcut, a couple of scars across his forearms (mostly rope burns and torn up skin), and he looked like he’d very happily break someone’s neck just by flicking them.

And he looked straight at Tony with a blank stare.

“…”

“…”

The bartender narrowed his eyes, putting a glass down and approaching Tony as he peered down at him. “…If anyone gives you trouble, send them to me." And off he went, walking past Tony to a customer who just approached the bar.

Tony blinked again, watching the guy walk away from him.

Huh.

That was… huh.

Tony shook his head off as somehow cleared their throat nearby, a man impatiently tapping his fingers on the bar. Tony stuck a smile on his face, approaching the guy.

“Yes, sir? Can I get you anything?” Was Tony doing a bad job at being polite?

Yup.

Tony could be a great guy. Not when he was in ‘rich kid’ persona though. And unfortunately, that’s what he was falling into right now.

He should probably work on that…

The man narrowed his eyes, before seemingly shrugging it off. “Whiskey. Neat.”

Tony could respect that.

He could respect a Laphroaig Whiskey more, but this bar didn’t have that.

He knew, he checked.

So, he found a tumbler to pour 2 ounces of whiskey in and he put the glass down, taking the man’s cash (with a napkin), checking to see how much the drink actually cost, and giving him his change back.

First drink done, and he’d even managed to withhold a sarcastic comment!

…Kind of.

 So here's to hoping that everything worked out tonight.

*****

Fellow bartender left about halfway into Tony’s shift (which was a lot longer than an hour, fyi), and on the way out he’d glanced at Tony, narrowed his eyes again and left.

Tony was very good at reading people, so fellow bartender either hated him and just wanted to avoid anyone getting pissy at him because that would cause trouble, or bartender had a soft spot for kids.

Either way, Tony had someone to run to for help if he needed it (he would not need it).

 About at about 2 am, after 5 hours of working, Tony was changing back into his hoodie.

They were very good at helping him out of his ‘rich kid’ persona.

He was just loitering at this point, absentmindedly thinking about how similar hours would continue with a school schedule.

Ideally Tony would need access to coffee sooner rather than later, and if he could get access to some money he could probably safely buy coffee to stay up for a while. Having a regular set of shifts from 9 pm – 2 am would give him 5 hours of work a night, and he assumed Leah was planning on only having him work weekends.

That would work best with a school schedule.

 …Except that Tony could comfortably work 4 or so nights a week with that shift schedule and school combined.

Friday and Saturday would be obvious days, one was a weekend which gave him the day to sleep and the next day to get ready for school, then was Monday and Wednesday which gave him days in between everything. It was the best way to get 20 hours of work a week while managing school.

Assuming his shifts continued being 5 hours.

 And assuming Leah agreed to that.

But Tony was very prepared to bullshit his way through any explanation necessary for this – namely, that he didn’t go to school.

Jack had already said they didn’t care about laws, so they wouldn’t care if he went to school or not, and they didn’t need to know that he was lying about anything.

And technically, at the moment, he wasn’t lying.

 He hung around until Leah and Jack both appeared, Jack with cash in his hand that he was going through and Leah with a notepad and pencil. He figured he'd probably get minimum wage (which would be… $6 an hour? Maybe?). That was fine. All he needed was money. Anything else was just a bonus.

“Good job, kid,” Leah said, glancing up with a small smirk. “Got plenty of comments on how quick you served,” she mentioned. “So, does $10.75 an hour sound good? We can give you 2 shifts a week, 5 hours each shift, if that works,” she waited patiently for an answer as Jack pocketed some of the cash, and held the rest.

Presumably, Tony’s pay if he agreed to the price.

 “Sounds great,” he agreed.

That was $107 dollars a week. That was positively brilliant for a first attempt at job here. He wasn’t sure if that was a lot for a job like this, or if it was average, but whatever it was he was happy to take it. It was certainly higher then what he believed mininum wage to be.

But…

“I can do more than 2 shifts if that’s useful,” he mentioned, his hands in his pockets again.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Same hours or less hours?” she asked, peering at him before flipping to a new page on the notepad.

“Same hours.”

 “So you can do 20 hours a week?” she clarified, and upon his nod she narrowed her eyes a fraction. “Days?”

 “Friday, Saturday, Monday, Wednesday,” he listed off.

He’d thought about it after all, and he was confident those days would maximise the time he could spend making money and at school.

20 hours would be $215 a week, and if he qualified for a stipend the that would give him more than enough. Plus, without needing to pay rent he could focus on making sure he stayed healthy, he stayed warm, his arc reactor stayed hidden, and he could buy and find materials to work on a working version of the device that had caused all this.

Leah nodded, taking a moment to think those days over before writing something on her notepad.

“If you’re sure. We’ll give you a two-week trial." Some part of her expected Tony to protest, to get upset at her lack of faith in him.

He didn’t.

“You get $53.75 for tonight. And…” she flipped back to another page, “$29.30 in tips.”  

Jack responded by holding out 4 twenty-dollar notes, 3 dollar bills, and a 5 cents coin .

That was… good. That was really good.

To be honest, he almost forgot tips were a thing.

Obviously he stuck a $100 bill to tabs a lot, but he had honestly forgotten that tips were a thing.

Tony’s expression didn’t betray the way he frowned at the idea of taking the money directly from Jack’s hand. But, like how he'd been using a napkin to take money all night, he let the sleeve of his hoodie cover his hand as he took the money, quickly flicking through it as a side thought, finding himself looking over the serial numbers on each bill.

Why?

Who knows, he just did it in passing.

“We’ll make sure you have a couple of uniforms in your locker and a nametag. You don’t have to wear the nametag,” Jack smiled, shrugging slightly. “Unless we tell you to, and then you wear it.”

“…Sure,” Tony agreed, raising an eyebrow..

“See you on Monday,” Leah smiled at him, closing her notepad after writing something. “Good luck, Eddie.”

*****

He felt like he’d been jinxed.

Tony had folded up his new found money, splitting it up so that he could slip it into both pockets of his jeans.

He didn’t know if it would do anything, but in the event that he ended up getting mugged and couldn’t defend himself, he’d rather only give up a portion of his money compared to all his money.

It might’ve been a good idea, it might’ve been a bad idea.

Either way, it’s what he did.

 As it turned out, it ended up being a good idea for that particular night.

 Tony had his hands in his hoodie pockets, his money in his jeans pockets, and he was just walking back to the neighbourhood he’d ended up staying in.

As usual he was paying close attention to the side streets and alley’s he walked past, so it wasn’t a complete surprise what happened.

But it most definitely wasn’t welcomed.

 When he’d walked past one more dark alley that he’d heard whispers coming from, he was pleasantly surprised when he managed to walk past without being intercepted.

However, the rapidly approaching footsteps behind him put every one of his nerves on edge.

Tony’s reflexes weren’t as good as Natasha’s or Clint’s or Steve’s, but they were still pretty damn good, especially now that his body was younger.

That being said, he managed to surprise himself with the way he ducked, stepped forward, and spun around in one motion, narrowly avoiding the crowbar aimed at the back of his head.

The guy behind him was also surprised, but not as much as he was now angry.

Attacker guy stumbled slightly, his balance lost as the crowbar sailed far past where it’s destination was supposed to be, but to his credit, he regained his balance quickly.

Tony stepped backwards, leaning back and avoiding a blow that would’ve caught his chest.

Tony could deal with a head wound, he couldn’t handle something potentially screwing up the arc reactor, not right now.

 “Woah, calm down buddy." Tony put his hands up, trying to go for the universal sign of peace (in America at least…). “No need to be so aggressive." Which is exactly what calmed an angry person down.

On the bright side, it prompted a response.

 “Give me everything in your pockets!” Accompanied by the crowbar being pointed threateningly at Tony’s face.

Tony wordlessly complied, reaching into one of his pockets and digging out $41.

Not an even split, and not such an easy amount to give away at the moment, but Tony wasn’t willing to risk getting injured without having medical supplies already in his possession.

So he lost half the money he had, a fine trade for his life and health.

And luckily, his phone was hard to see where it sat in his back pocket (which he’d continued to be hyperaware of since arriving in this damn place).

 Attacker guy reached out to grab the money from Tony, but a black glove covered hand intercepted, taking the money before attacker guy could. The attacker turned to shout or curse, and he froze.

Tony’s eyes followed the hand back to its owner, and he blinked.

“Gee, for me? How nice of you.” Red Hood folded the money, putting it in his jacket pocket and waving a gun around in attacker guy’s direction. “You really didn’t have to, but I am truly honoured." The vigilante smiled beneath the helmet, his gun aiming towards attacker guy. “Have anything else for me?”

Attacker guy dropped the crowbar, the metal clanging against the broken concrete footpath.

His hands went up and Tony watched as apologies and excuses tumbled from his mouth.

Well, Tony couldn’t say he was surprised, attacker guy did have a gun in his face. That'd kinda freak anyone out.

“No? And I suppose that means you won’t have anything else for me tomorrow? Or the day after? Or any day soon?” Red Hood continued, his tone almost disappointed as he shook his head, his helmet portraying no emotions compared to his voice.

Attacker guy stumbled over his words as the gun was pushed even closer to him, his face going pale as he backed up, hands in the air. He very quickly agreed, and off he went, practically bolting away.

Tony couldn’t say he felt bad, but as he turned to watch Red Hood, he also couldn’t say he felt victorious.

“…Well, you already have all I had.” Tony shrugged as the vigilante’s helmet turned towards him. He was rewarded with a scoff as Red Hood put his gun away (ha, the safety hadn’t even been off), and the $41 Tony had taken from him was being held out.

“I’m not gonna rob you, kid,” Red Hood said dryly, observing the familiar kid for a moment.

The teenager didn’t take the money immediately, and Red Hood could understand that, but the way the kid frowned and hesitated seemed… more cautious than it should’ve been.

Red Hood tilted his head, half tempted to just force the money into the kids hand, but he chose that moment to move forward and take it. With the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand.

Red Hood’s eyes narrowed under his helmet.

 Tony slipped the money back into the jean pocket it had come from.

Yes, Tony had originally had the money, yes Red Hood had put it in a pocket before immediately giving it back.

But Red Hood had gloves on, and who knew what his goal was?

Yeah, it was irrational, but Tony didn’t even like taking things from Happy if he could avoid it, and even though it made no sense for Red Hood to do something, or try something, especially on some homeless kid, it didn’t stop Tony’s paranoia.

“…” Tony didn’t say anything though.

He should’ve thanked Red Hood, said something nice or something, but he just couldn’t force himself to at the moment.

At least the vigilante didn’t seem to be offended by it.

"Red Hood? Where are you?" Oracle’s voice filtered through his earpiece, his tracker having been turned off today (and for the last week).

He ignored her, choosing to focus on the kid that continued to look painfully familiar.

There was something about the kid’s appearance that was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite figure out how.

He had a very… the only way Red Hood could even begin to describe it was ‘old money’ face. And he could only recognise it thanks to Bruce (unfortunately).

But under the dim, flickering light of a nearby streetlamp, the kid looked like he could’ve very vaguely been related to Bruce through ‘old money’ feel alone. That being said, Red Hood doubted that was possible.

But as the light flickered out for a couple of seconds longer, he realised where he recognised the kid from.

 “Roof kid?” he raised an eyebrow under his helmet, not sure if he should be amused at seeing the kid again, or vaguely concerned that the kid was still in the clothes he’d been in last time, the kid that was definitely not from Gotham, and the kid that had been on the edge of a roof last time.

At least this meant he hadn’t jumped or tried anything…

 Or that he just hadn't successfully jumped.

“…Roof guy.” Tony raised an eyebrow, adopting a similar tone. “…Did you deal with the… fight?” he asked lightly, remembering how Red Hood had left so suddenly, and distinctly remembering how the sounds of guns nearby had gotten louder and more frantic before very quickly quieting down.

Conveniently in the same direction the vigilante had went.

Tony could only assume he had dealt with it.

Red Hood tilted his head up slightly, observing the kid as he asked the question.

Well… it wasn’t impossible for someone with any kind of common sense to realise why he’d left, but he didn’t often see anyone with common sense in Gotham.

At least… no one he ran into more than once.

“I did. …Are you staying in Gotham long?” he asked lightly, quietly wondering if he needed to find a way to get this kid to accept help.

If he was only staying for a short time, that was one thing, but he’d already been here at least a week.

Red Hood didn’t want to leave a vulnerable kid alone on these streets.

 “I’m not planning on it.”

 Which didn’t answer the question at all.

Red Hood frowned slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. “…You got a name?” A name might give Red Hood a chance to… subtly spread his slight concern over this kid amongst the family.

Assuming the kid was willing to offer a name.

Tony stayed quiet for a moment, his hands back in his pocket as he shifted his stance slightly. “…Anthony."

He hadn’t manufactured documents with that name, and he hadn’t shared that name with anyone yet.

It was a safe bet.

Except for the missing Anthony in this world…

Nah, it was a safe bet.

Besides, that Anthony lived in Italy. As long as Tony pretended his Italian was shit, no one would make that connection and be able to verify it.

“Red Hood,” the vigilante introduced himself, nodding at the kid, Anthony. “That’s a very…”

“Old name? Yes, it is.” Tony accurately guessed Red Hood’s comment. “…Anything else?”

Tony felt like he was being curt at the moment, but now he was irritated. …For some reason.

It took a hot minute to catch up, but almost being mugged and attacked before even getting the chance to comply was… well, irritating.

And Red Hood’s appearance made something in Tony feel upset. He didn’t know why, he wouldn’t be able to explain why.

It probably was an irrational teenager thing, but still.

Red Hood nodded slightly, seeing a lot of himself in how Anthony was acting at the moment. Not necessarily in how composed he was being, but rather in how curt he was being near an adult.

It was like looking at a young, angry-at-the-world Jason Todd.

“You eaten yet? There’s a diner nearby that serves the best burgers in the area. And there’s a roof with a great view next to it,” he mentioned lightly, carefully making an offer, and a suggestion at the same time.

Anthony could decide which option he took.

 Tony considered it for a moment.

Well… he did make it a habit of eating takeout after getting attacked…

And Red Hood was known to be a safe person as long as you weren’t a criminal or a douchebag, and Tony was very good at currently not being a douchebag, so… It didn’t make sense to break his tradition now.

“Great view, huh? How great a view?” his stance relaxed, and his body posture became more open, his hands still in his pockets, but his shoulders relaxed and back.

Red Hood grinned under his helmet, his hands going down to his hips as he let his stance relax as well. “Pretty damn good,”

He slowly started to shuffle in the direction of the diner, curious to see if Anthony would follow him.

He nodded to himself in satisfaction as the kid took a step in the same direction, and off he went. It was a little bit strange to be walking with Anthony, because it almost felt like walking with Bruce or Dick.

In more ways then one.

Between that 'old money' look Anthony had, he was also tall enough to resemble Dick or Bruce. …Probably more Dick, though.

Red Hood was a comfortable 6 feet, and Anthony was probably… around 5’9, maybe 5’10.

And he was obviously a teenager, chances were he still had an inch or so to grow. And despite the kid being lanky, he wasn’t as lanky as he could’ve been, he definitely had some muscle. Maybe not much, but some.

Chances were the kids body type was a lot like Tim’s at the moment, except Anthony was taller. Obviously.

 He very easily could start to look more like Dick though…

Red Hood put his hand in his pocket, feeling his wallet as they walked along.

It was strange, Red Hood hadn’t quite noticed Anthony’s stature before now, but as they walked towards the diner it was quite obvious that Anthony was, well… he seemed kinda like a Robin.

He was alert, not quite looking around but obviously aware of his surroundings, and while he was walking calmly, there was something that emanated caution. So, maybe he wasn’t like a Robin.

Robins were nowhere near as cautious…

They paused once they were in sight of the diner, and Red Hood turned to look at Anthony. “There’s a fire escape on the side of the building. Have any dietary restrictions?”

Tony looked at him, shaking his head.

The vigilante motioned for Tony to go find the fire escape as he pulled out a wallet and walked towards the diner. Tony watched him for a long moment before following the side of the building, finding the fire escape.

It was fairly obvious what happened afterwards.

Tony had been sitting on the building, observing the view for a couple of minutes when Red Hood joined him with a takeout bag.

The view was better than most view’s Tony had seen in Gotham, it wasn’t just buildings and alleyways and trash.

Admittedly, it wasn’t much better, but Tony hadn’t been expecting anything other than food anyways.

A slightly better than average view was just a bonus.

 “Cheeseburgers and fries,” Red Hood said, sitting down next to him with the takeout bag between them, giving Tony space.

Tony appreciated that.

He also appreciated being able to take from the bag instead of Red Hood’s hand.

The vigilante didn’t move until he saw Tony take a cheeseburger and take a bite, at which point he took his helmet off, setting it down beside him. Tony’s eyes lingered on the white streak in his black hair for a moment, and the domino mask hiding his eyes, but he didn’t say anything.

Just because Tony had shared his identity as a hero (vigilante? Anti-hero?) with the world didn’t mean everyone else in existence wanted to. Natasha had, for example, kept her identity secret as long as she could manage (before she was kind of forced into the limelight).

Tony’s decision to reveal that he was Iron Man had been an impulse decision anyway.

“Good burger,” he commented, pushing away the memories cheeseburgers linked into.

“The best in the Bowery,” Red Hood agreed, taking a handful of fries. He finished his burger before speaking again, unwrapping another one. “The best way to celebrate not dying.”

Tony noted the small, bitter hint in Red Hood’s voice, but he didn’t react to it, choosing to snort softly and smile, taking a few fries for himself.

“The absolute best,” he agreed, and he pretended not to see the way Red Hood glanced at him, looking at his hair for a moment.

*****

All things considered, the day hadn’t been half bad.

Tony was almost guaranteed an entry into Gotham Academy, he had a job where he’d consistently make $50 or so a shift, and he’d eaten his first real not soup kitchen food since arriving in Gotham.

Once he got accepted into the Academy he’d have done about… another weeks worth of shifts, so about $215 dollars (minus whatever he ended up spending on medical stuff, non-perishables, and tech to tinker with and use) for school uniforms.

Of course, by the time he found his the apartment it was comfortably nearing 4 am, so he’d need to wait a few hours until he could go out and buy anything, but he had 83 dollars to use on things to stay warm, and medical supplies, namely, bandages to cover the arc reactor.

Although… when he took his money to skim through it again, not for any real reason, he blinked up realising he had an extra 20 dollar-bill.

$103.

Huh…

Well, he could sleep tonight which would give him time to rest before his next bar shift on Monday, so right now he was going to spend his time cleaning up some more of the apartment and adding wires and scrap material and metal to a small pile he was compiling of things that may be useful for tinkering.

So that’s what he did, he cleaned up until the sun started to rise before choosing to tinker with things he’d found, wasting his time until he was sure at least a couple of stores would be open.

*****

JARVIS searched through every network, camera and piece of technology he was connected to, searching for any sign of Tony.

AI’s were built, that was common knowledge, they were artificial.

Not real.

They didn’t have emotions or opinions, they simply did what they were designed to do, what they were created to agree or disagree with.

That’s why no one truly understood how advanced Tony Stark’s robots and AI’s were.

It’s also why no one would ever believe that JARVIS had panicked when Tony disappeared through a flash of blinding colours behind him.

Tony was unbelievably clever, a certified genius, so it was no surprise that Tony had successfully created a ‘teleportation’ device from a theoretical formula and a half-assed test.

Unfortunately, it also meant that JARVIS wasn’t surprised when the device had worked too well.

It didn’t change how he panicked, but he wasn’t surprised.

Dum-E and U were whirring sporadically, twisting around and poking at the device, trying to get it to turn on again despite JARVIS’s warning’s against doing so.

But, JARVIS was connected to Dum-E and U, if they ended up in the same place as Tony it would give JARVIS access to wherever Tony was.

In theory, Tony’s phone should’ve done that, but he’d been updating it.

It was ironic, the one time JARVIS wasn’t connected to Tony’s phone or arc reactor and his master had disappeared off the face of the planet.

It did not reenforce JARVIS’s confidence in allowing Tony to be completely alone.

The whole point of sticking JARVIS in Tony’s arc reactor in the first place – which was an incredibly recent decision – was in case another Killian situation occurred.

 JARVIS knew it was a bad idea to stay disconnected for so long, but he’d made up for his worry by keeping an extra close eye and ear on everything in Manhattan.

Not just in the tower, but in Manhattan.

Although Tony never enforced it, or mentioned it, or used it, JARVIS had an in to every single piece of technology on Earth. As long as it was in sight of a satellite, near any sort of network or connection, or had been created by Stark Industries, JARVIS had access to it.

 Of course, this was a violation of… certain rights.

But, no one knew about it.

JARVIS controlled what stayed on the internet and what didn’t, and he controlled what knowledge of JARVIS the world had.

Only Miss Potts technically had any sort of idea about what JARVIS could be capable of, and even she didn’t know the exact extent.

In actuality, SHIELD had a vague idea, but they knew even less than Miss Potts did thanks to JARVIS.

But the AI had long since figure Tony was longer on Earth, the question was whether Tony was still in this universe.

JARVIS and Tony had both experimented with the idea of other realities, other universes, Earths and everything involved. Just like they’d both done research and had planned experiments around time travel.

JARVIS had all of Tony’s calculations, theories, plans and thoughts along with his own, just like Tony had access to everything JARVIS came up with.

JARVIS knew the odds.

JARVIS knew the risks.

JARVIS knew everything to do with it.

The only thing he didn’t know was how to fix it.

All he could do now was continue running theories, searching for any sign of Tony, and keeping Tony’s disappearance hidden from the public.

JARVIS knew Tony wouldn’t want to worry anyone, and JARVIS knew that he had plans and contingencies in case Tony never came back.

So every time Miss Potts contacted Tony she was given apologies for missing her calls, excuses that Mr Stark was sleeping or had asked not to be disturbed.

Should the Avengers ever hold training sessions or require Iron Man for a mission, however quick or unimportant, JARVIS planned to control Iron Man.

The only situations JARVIS was reluctant to fake, were if Mr Keener or Mr Parker attempted contactTony, but he had plans for that as well, very similar to how he’d deal with Miss Potts.

Tony would fix everything when he eventually returned, and if he didn’t, JARVIS wouldn’t be around to see the backlash.

JARVIS, Dum-E and U refused to exist in a world where Tony Stark didn’t.