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“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Tony asked, sitting uncomfortably still as the traffic thinned out around them. The few moments of anonymity were nice. When strangers looked into the car from their own, nothing but tinted windows stared right back.
“Well, that depends—” Pepper said. She wore her narrowed eyes and cunning smirk well. She knew that this was the last thing on Tony’s list of events that he wanted to attend. “—are you going to sit there and be miserable or are you actually going to put any effort into it?”
“That might be asking too much of me if I’m honest.”
She reached over and straightened up his tie. “You know I’m not your assistant anymore,” she said. “And you’re not dying. You have to start doing things yourself.”
“I may not be dying but I’m still recovering.” Tony slipped on a pair of sunglasses while the car made its way down the boulevard. He hadn’t been into Queens since the Stark Expo catastrophe, and he could feel the heavy anxiety branch down from his chest and into his hands. “Plus, I totally do things myself. I did tie this myself, you know,” he said, pointing to his necktie. “God forbid it gets loose because you and Happy like it so damn hot in this car.”
“Whatever, just be nice to these kids,” she told him with a hint of a smile. “They look up to you.”
Tony pressed his chin into his hand, childishly staring out the window as if he was caught in the middle of a daydream. “They look up to Iron Man,” he mumbled.
“Didn’t you say it yourself?” Pepper asked. “I am Iron Man. If I recall correctly, you’re one and the same.”
“Yeah, and which do you prefer?”
She set her hand around his bicep and tugged him close to place a kiss to his cheek. He smiled as her lips met the shell of his ear. “You don’t want me to answer that,” she whispered, pulling away.
Tony let out a playful gasp. “Oh, Miss Potts. How dare you be so seducingly mean to me? You’re going to make me fall in love with you.”
Pepper laughed, and for that, he was grateful. He had a handful of things on his mind—he couldn’t list them all on his fingers and toes, but there was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. The company was in good hands. He was in good hands.
From the front seat, Happy sent a look through the rearview mirror.
“Uh oh,” Tony said, crossing his legs, “I think Hap’s feeling excluded.”
Happy’s defensive demeanor immediately took shape as he glanced back again. “No, absolutely not.”
Tony’s cheeks ached from smiling for so long. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ve got stuff planned for us.”
“I don’t like how that sounds.”
“Yeah, I don’t either,” Pepper added.
“Relax. All in good fun,” he muttered as he tapped at his watch. “How we doin’ on time? Are they still expecting me or did they replace me so that I don’t have to go?”
“They’re still expecting you,” she said flatly. “You have no choice. We’re almost there anyway. Like I said, do it for the kids, Tony. It’s only a few hours and then you can go play with your suits.”
“I don’t play—” He fidgeted with the sunglasses perched on his nose. “I decompress. This—this god awful thing—is not helping my stress levels. Okay? I’m like a ticking time bomb these days. Literally. I think I might explode. There’ll be bits of me all over the upholstery in here.”
Pepper huffed out a laugh.
“This is why I stopped driving you around,” Happy said.
Tony reached over the backseat divider and slapped a hand down on his friend’s shoulder. “Good thing me and Pep are a package deal.”
“A package deal until we get to the school,” Pepper said with a sly smile. “Then you’re all on your own.”
“You’re gonna leave me there alone? With kids?”
The car slowed to a stop on cue, pulling up before a high school with families filtering in and out of the building, all dressed in thick coats to match the weather. All Tony had was a three-piece suit. And to his dismay, the press had already arrived. They crowded his car with shouts and cameras before he could step out and greet his fate. He took a peek at the banner above the school doors and sighed. NEW YORK CITY SCIENCE AND ENGINEERING FAIR 2011.
“This is embarrassing,” he muttered.
The press outside his car had started to yell out his name. Happy slipped outside to clear the crowd as Tony pressed his sunglasses against the ridge of his brows.
“Just a few hours,” Pepper mentioned, setting a hand on his knee. She squeezed gently. “Be nice.”
Tony rolled his eyes behind his tinted shades. “When am I ever not nice?” he asked.
He shot her a grin before letting himself out into the chaos. He had to pretend that his heart didn’t stammer in his chest as the strangers surrounded him. They asked about Iron Man, about Pepper, about some stupid thing he did five years ago, and someone even asked about his Christmas plans. But, instead of engaging and entertaining them as always, Tony wore a tight smile and carried on up the steps of the high school. He dreaded this day.
It was good publicity, Pepper said. All he had to do was judge a hundred kids on their science fair projects and then call it a day. In his Armani suit, he stood out like a sore thumb in a crowd of parents and teenagers with projects bigger than their heads. There were gasps and stares at the sight of him, yet he kept walking through the lobby without bothering to greet them.
“Hi,” he said to a shorter woman behind a table. He smiled as her wide eyes met his. “Is this where I check in so I can start judging people?”
“I-I—yes, Mister Stark,” she stammered. “Wow. We didn’t think you’d come.”
“Well, I do love saying yes to invitations.”
She searched the table for his name tag. When she held one up, he kindly refused. “All right, then,” she said through a sigh. She handed him a thick clipboard, stacked full of grading sheets and whatnot. “For the first two hours, all you have to do is walk around and check out all of the experiments. Give them some ratings and comments. And then afterwards the judges will deliberate and choose their winners.”
“Seems simple enough.” Tony flipped through the pages on the clipboard. “And if I have a hankering for a tuna sandwich…?”
The lady blinked a few times. “W-well—uh, we have catering.”
“Perfect,” he said. His gaze darted down to her name tag. “Thank you, Monica.”
“Thank you, Mister Stark.”
Tony wasn’t used to not being in his element. In this case, he was far from it. As he walked into the gymnasium, adjusting his tie for the hundredth time that day, he immediately wanted to hide in the nearest janitor’s closet. For once, he didn’t want to call attention to himself, and he didn’t want others to do it for him. He refused to lower his sunglasses as he walked around.
The first hour was less than eventful. He had sent a few SOS texts to Pepper without receiving an answer and then stood by the catering table to feast on mini donuts until someone bothered him. There weren’t many projects out there that caught his eye. His top contender was a thirteen-year-old kid who discovered how to make painless band-aids.
“It’s cool that you’re here,” said a man to his left. He didn’t give Tony much of a glance as he continued, “my nephew really looks up to you.”
Tony stared at the man for a few seconds, wondering if he should speak up or let the conversation fall. The latter turned out to be his best option once the man turned away.
With powdered donut dust on his fingers, Tony set off down another aisle of tables with poster boards towering high. He ignored the occasional snap of a sneaky camera, smiled at anyone who was too shy to say hello, and channeled fake excitement whenever another potato clock went well. Tony couldn’t believe that he had ended up here.
He passed three aquaponics presentations, two Venus flytrap experiments, and a miniature Mars Rover that had fallen clean off of the table. And then something new caught his eye. His feet came to a sudden halt.
The curly-haired kid standing in front of the table was much smaller than the rest. He stared up at Tony with large eyes as he adjusted his glasses.
“Hey, kid,” Tony greeted. “Wanna show me what you’ve got?”
The kid nodded. Horror was written all over his face. “Yeah. I-I mean, yes sir. Hi. Uh—it’s kinda like a robot, I guess. It—”
“Kind of?” Tony questioned, glancing at the object on the table. It looked like an average garden sprinkler. This one, however, seemed to be staring right up at him.
“Y-yeah.” The kid exhaled shakily. His nerves made Tony want to sit him down and talk about something mundane like the weather. “Well, I think so, at least. It’s a solar-powered sprinkler that is programmed to detect the levels of moisture in soil. And it moves.” The kid pressed a few buttons on a small remote control, and the sprinkler turned in a 360° motion. “I made it cos’ my aunt forgets to water the plants sometimes.”
Tony—whether he wanted to admit it or not—was impressed. He raised a brow and smiled. “That’s pretty neat, kid. How old are you?”
“Ten, sir.”
“Ten? Wow.” Tony could now proudly admit that he was impressed. The kid was the youngest contestant yet, but his project was unique. It was cool. “No need to call me sir. I honestly don’t deserve it. So, how long did it take you to make this?”
“A few months,” the kid answered. “And then some.”
“And then some?”
He looked around the room and attempted to hide his newfound giggles. “Sometimes I stayed up all night when I was supposed t’be asleep,” he whispered. “Don’t tell my aunt and uncle though. They’ll take away dessert.”
Tony’s brows raised in amusement. The kid was more like him than he suspected. “All right then,” he said, holding out his pinky. “Seems like a promise to me.”
The kid’s smile lit up the room. He took Tony’s pinky in his.
“Do you—do you like being Iron Man?” the kid asked shyly, pulling his hand away. “My aunt says it’s flashy. My uncle likes to pretend you don’t exist.”
“Flashy?” Tony was only mildly hurt by the comment. “It’s not that—aren’t I supposed to ask the questions here, kid?”
The kid bit back his smile. “Sorry, sir.”
“Are your aunt and uncle around here?”
“Uh—” He scanned the room briefly and nodded. “My uncle really likes mini donuts, so he’s over by the food.”
Tony followed the kid’s finger across the room until his eyes landed on a dark-haired man with glasses. A woman—presumably the kid’s aunt—stood beside him with a bright smile as they talked.
“They must be proud of you,” Tony said. He didn’t dare ask about the kid’s parents—he was afraid of the answer as if he already knew what it was.
The kid seemed bashful as he shrugged. “I love them,” he said. “They’re nice to me. They took me in when my—yeah.” He shrugged again.
Tony could tell exactly what this kid was like in school simply by looking at him. He was short for his age, leaning toward the dorkier side of personalities, and he still struggled to make friends. But that last part didn’t make sense to Tony, not when he was the most interesting kid he had met at the fair so far. The other kids and teens cared about hypotheses and solving difficult physics problems before their fifteenth birthday. This kid simply wanted to make gardening a little easier for his aunt.
“Well, you’ve gotta be pretty smart for your age, then,” Tony told the kid. He didn’t have a single temptation to joke around which, he felt, was rare for him. The kid deserved honesty. And considering how boring the day had been so far for Tony, this was the most exciting part of the kid’s day.
“Teachers like to tell me that I’m the smartest in my class,” he said proudly, wearing a lopsided smile. “I don’t really care though cos’ everyone else is smart, too. I just like working really hard. And solving problems. That’s my favorite part of math.”
“Really?” Tony grinned. “That’s my favorite part, too.”
The kid’s smile grew. It was a wonky, crooked smile that could tug on anyone’s heartstrings. Tony couldn’t believe that he had allowed himself to talk to a ten-year-old for this long.
“Tell ya what, kid,” he said, “I’ll try not to let this conversation sway my judgment. But I can’t make any promises. You look like you’re dyin’ to have one of those trophy shelves in your room.”
“I’ve never gotten a trophy before.”
“You’ve never—” Tony blinked a few times. “No spelling bees? Robot competitions? You made a smart sprinkler and you’ve never won a trophy before?”
The kid shook his head.
“God, you’re making this so hard on me.” Tony let out a sigh as he set two fingers on the bridge of his nose. He took off his sunglasses and set them along the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. “I’ve gotta keep truckin’ through, but nice work, kid. Keep it up. You may or may not get to leave with your very first trophy today.”
The kid shot him another toothy grin. “Thanks a bunch, Mister Stark.”
Tony winked as he jotted down a few notes on his clipboard. He glanced at the poster board, ignored the mess of words that he should have marked off points for, and read off the kid’s name in his head. Peter Parker. An obvious winner.
Tony was bored out of his mind.
He had reviewed every project, every experiment—he even held a few more conversations with kids who were only half as interesting as Peter. Their projects were subpar in comparison. They were older but he was wiser. At the age of ten, Tony could disassemble an engine and put it back together again without thinking twice, and he was certain he could have done what Peter was doing. While they were different in every way, they shared a similarity that made Tony feel an odd sense of pride. He liked the kid.
So far, that was Tony’s only takeaway from spending the afternoon at some citywide science fair. A random ten-year-old kid had blown him away, and that was never an easy thing to do.
There were only twenty minutes left before the judges were set to deliberate, which Tony couldn’t wait for. He had been a judge for a myriad of things in the past—mostly beauty contests and events that he now considered to be degrading. The invitation to judge for a science fair in Queens had gone right through Pepper, and she said yes before he had the chance to decline. She was right to do so, however; he had a lot of cleaning up to do for his image. It was his chance to show that he wanted to be there to serve the people, not just himself.
The mini donuts were out by the time Tony circled back to the catering table. He hummed to himself, sighing dramatically as he settled on a handful of sesame seed crackers. The taste reminded him of musty cardboard in an old attic. Meanwhile, the same man from earlier—Peter’s uncle—approached on his left.
“You made his day,” said the uncle. He still wouldn’t look at Tony. It was exactly as Peter had said—he refused to acknowledge that he existed.
“Peter’s uncle, yeah?” Tony asked.
The man nodded. “Ben.”
“Good kid you got there. Smart.”
Ben finally glanced over at Tony and folded his arms. “Did he tell you about the time you saved his life?” he asked. “He wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.”
Tony raised a brow, eager to hear more.
“Guessing he didn’t.” Ben laughed, taking a step closer to Tony so he could speak quietly. “The night when shit went down at your Expo, Pete had thrown a tantrum cos’ he wanted to go again so badly. He was obsessed with Iron Man at the time. He met you on opening night, so obviously, he would want to see you again. And then we all got separated from each other. Apparently, you saved his life, at least that’s what he told everyone.”
Tony tried his best to go back to that night in his head, thinking over every detail he could vaguely remember. He wasn’t sure who he saved and who he didn’t. But now, for some reason, he couldn’t get the mental image of a little kid in an Iron Man mask out of his head.
“He seems like a really neat kid,” Tony said, forcing a smile. “The world’ll be in good hands with him.”
Ben smiled in return. It was clear he was proud of his nephew. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that one of these days he’ll try to build a suit of his own,” he said. “He wants to be a superhero like you, but we keep tellin’ him that there are many ways to be a hero, y’know? A doctor, a scientist… that kind of stuff. I gotta say that him looking up to you makes me a little nervous.”
Tony could agree. The thought of the kid looking up to him made him feel nauseous.
“I’d like to say that somewhat offends me, but even I can’t deny that it makes me nervous, too,” he said as he nibbled on a dry cracker. He would get a drink to wash it down with, but frankly, Tony wasn’t in the mood for apple juice and artificially dyed fruit punch.
“So you’re a science fair judge by day, superhero by night?” Ben asked. “Is that how it works?”
Tony laughed, and before he had the chance to answer with a witty comeback, the sounds of loud pops and crackles tore his attention away. A project in the far corner of the gymnasium had burst into a large flame. If he remembered correctly, that meant Brady Heron’s firecracker rocket had gone off and gone terribly wrong.
“Shit,” Ben and Tony muttered at the same time.
The science projects surrounding the fire immediately caught flame as the piercing noises quickly died. Children began to scream before they scurried across the room to safety. Tony and Ben stood frozen and in a horrified daze. By the time someone was able to get their hands on an extinguisher, the fire had already spread beyond control.
Ben took off in a flash, darting right toward the aisle of tables where Peter and his strange robot sprinkler were stationed. Tony could only do so much as he ran off toward the gymnasium doors to help lead people out. He hadn’t come prepared for this. He hadn’t worried about any villain making an effort to attack a science fair at a random high school in Queens. The suit, unfortunately, was a no-go.
The chaos only grew from there. The fire spread down each aisle, melting the poster boards and poor Venus flytraps until they were nothing but ash. Kids were crying, parents were desperate to save their child’s hard work, and Tony was trying not to let the smoke bother his sinuses.
It seemed like a cool project in retrospect—a miniature rocket powered by firecrackers. Any teen with a budding interest in pyrotechnics and a dash of pyromania would jump at the chance. And now, Tony found himself barrelling through the thinning crowds to see if anyone had fallen behind. The fire had spread to the stage where the trophies were left all alone.
Tony managed to snatch a ribbon before the flames had the chance to lick at his ankles. He had seen his fair share of fires—had even been on fire a few times, but now he felt lost. As the fire spread to the bleachers, Tony didn’t want to leave. He couldn’t leave. If there were any kids in there, trampled on or cornered somewhere all alone, he refused to leave them behind.
He coughed violently, and his lungs stung with each breath. He let his intuition guide him until his eyes met the sight of a woman curled up on the floor. She was sheltered beside the water fountains with a cut on her head. From what he could tell, the woman was Peter’s aunt.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Tony said to her, helping her up so he could hold her by the waist.
She had been crying, mascara and ash stains streaked down her cheeks as they mixed with the blood from her forehead. She was too tired to stand on her own.
Tony was lucky he managed to get them both out alive.
Firefighters passed them and EMTs greeted them, and then, Tony was left on his own. He trekked across the parking lot where the crowds of people had gathered, making his way around ambulances and firetrucks before sitting down on the curb. He needed to breathe. He couldn’t breathe. And as snow fell around him—a reminder of the cold, fresh air—all he could feel was ash burning against his skin.
He let out a sigh, deep as he could let it, and fetched his phone from his jacket pocket. Ash coated his clothes in dark, frightening patches.
He sent a text message to Pepper.
I am never doing this again. Ever.
Schools these days need to do better
at teaching kids fire safety.
FYI—never having kids.
Also, I need a new suit.
Tony rubbed the smoke from his eyes, allowing a few tears to slip down his cheeks to clear the sting. He coughed as much as he could before the ache in his lungs became too unbearable. He had made it out without a scratch, without a burn, and without a singe to his clothes. Those few minutes replayed over in his head as he watched strangers hug one another. It had happened so fast. All he could hope for was that everyone was okay.
“I couldn’t save my project,” said a voice. Peter Parker had taken a seat on the curb beside him. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
Tony smiled at the kid, grateful that he had made it out okay. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said, patting Peter on the knee. “But, just so you know, it was definitely a winner in my book.”
“You think so?”
Tony set the ribbon he had grabbed down on Peter’s lap. “It’s no trophy, but I managed to snatch it before I was swallowed up by Satan’s butthole.”
Peter snickered as he held the ribbon up to his face in awe. Despite the few marks of ash lining his cheeks and the unfortunate fate of the fair, he seemed okay. He seemed pleased. Tony had a feeling that he and Peter didn’t mix when it came to happy endings.
“Thank you, Mister Stark,” Peter said, peering up at Tony with wide eyes and a familiar toothy smile.
Tony ruffled Peter’s hair. “Anytime, kiddo. How’s your aunt?”
“She’s fine,” Peter mumbled with a shrug. His fingers fidgeted along the crimped edges of the ribbon. “Got hurt when people were running and screaming. She’s getting it looked at. She says thank you, by the way.”
The cold air was finally starting to bother Tony. It was uncomfortably cool against the sweat along his forehead and the nape of his neck. For the first time in a while, Tony didn’t feel quite like himself. He knew it wasn’t the fire that left him feeling vulnerable. It was the kid.
“I came over here to see if you were okay,” Peter added. “People are talking about how you kept making sure everyone left before you did. I didn’t know you could do that stuff without the suit.”
Tony’s heart warmed at Peter’s words. There was no way he could possibly be enjoying a conversation with a ten-year-old, yet he was. He had a feeling that this kid would be more significant than a one-night interaction.
“You know, Pete—” he said, leaning over his knees. The asphalt of the parking lot crackled beneath his shoes. “—you don’t need a suit to be a hero. And that’s not me patting myself on the back or anything—even though what I did in there was pretty badass, if I’m honest.”
Peter laughed.
“But if you want a suit so badly,” Tony continued, “all you gotta do is let me know. They’re kinda fun to have around.”
“You’ll make me a suit?”
“Maybe when you’re older,” he said, giving Peter’s shoulder a nudge with his elbow. “Keep up the good grades, then we’ll have a talk.”
This made Peter pout. “But what if I fail a class? Will I still get a suit?”
Tony didn’t think for one second that the kid had the capability to fail. But instead, he said, “I promise you, kid, you’ll be just fine.”
“Peter, hey—” Ben came running up to them from the mess of firetrucks and ambulances. He appeared to be in one piece, yet his hair was disheveled and his clothes were a mess. His glasses were clouded with ash.
Peter leapt up and tossed his arms around his uncle’s waist. “Ben, Mister Stark is gonna make me a suit one day!” he cried as he squeezed his eyes tight.
Ben’s gaze fell onto Tony, and he narrowed his eyes. All Tony could do was innocently smile and shrug as if it had all been an accident. He stood a moment later, dusting his pants off despite the redundancy of it, and held a hand out for Ben to shake.
“Thanks for your help tonight, Tony,” Ben said with a nod. “Please don't make him a suit.”
Tony smiled. “You have my word.”
Ben turned his attention back down to Peter with a pinch to his cheek. “Okay, Pete, we’ve gotta go meet May at the hospital. She’s just gotta get some stitches and then she’ll be good as new.”
“How many stitches?”
Ben hummed. “Well, let me think. How many did you get when you fell off your bike?”
“Ten!”
“Ten stitches it is.” He looked up at Tony once more and said, “need a ride?”
Tony laughed as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Funny. Thanks, though. I’m covered.”
Ben gave him one last smile before turning away. Soon after, Peter slipped from his grasp and wrapped himself around Tony as he had just done with his uncle. And for a moment, Tony wasn’t sure what to do. He placed a few pats on Peter’s shoulder before the kid could pull away.
“Thanks for the ribbon, Mister Stark,” he said on his way back to Ben. “See you around!”
With a wave, Tony watched as the kid and his uncle walked off without another word. There was an unexplainable sense of pride that filled his chest when he thought about his interaction with the kid. Tony knew that Peter would take on the world one day; he only hoped that the world wouldn’t swallow him whole. If there was any chance of it—if they were to ever cross paths again, Tony would have Peter’s back. And Peter would have his, too.
Maybe kids weren’t so bad after all.