AN: This was an idea that wouldn't leave my head. I had been going on a seaQuest marathon, and well, I wanted to see how Tony would react to Lucas. And since there were no fanfics like this, the only choice I had was to make my own. I hope you enjoy this experiment as much as I had while thinking of all the things the two could do!

Also: I ignored timelines in this, sorry.

Collision
Chapter One

The world was nauseating when Tony woke up.

He groaned.

"You're not gonna barf, are you? Please tell me you won't."

Surprised that he wasn't alone, Tony opened his eyes and searched around the dim room for the voice. Squinting at the blessed darkness, Tony could barely make out the figure of a person coming towards him. Whoever this was, he didn't seem at all threatening. In fact, the body language screamed wariness. Of him. Which meant only one thing.

"Great," he said, a little surprised at the scratchiness of his voice, "Please don't tell me we slept together. Or better yet, please don't speak at all. Or better better yet, please leave and let me mourn for my broken manly pride in peace."

The person didn't leave though. He just shrugged and said, almost as if only to himself, "Right. She did say this could happen."

"Wait. She? It's Agent Romanoff, isn't it? She's the one who put you up to this, isn't it! Dammit. I'll kill Barton the next time I—,"

"Mr. Stark, relax," the other interrupted as he pushed a glass of water into Tony's hand, "Drink up. It'll help with the headache. I think."

"You think?" Tony asked, incredulous, as he finished drinking, "What the hell did Legolas give me?"

"Um, I don't know who Barton or Legolas is, well apart from the latter being a fictional character, but you aren't here cause we slept together, thank god," the stranger muttered the last words as he took the glass from Tony, "And the she I was referring to a while ago is a doctor friend of mine. She's been teaching me first-aid for a while now, for emergencies. And well, you were in an emergency a few hours back, Mr. Stark. You, well, you crashed. In the backyard, if you can believe it."

That stopped Tony's impending tirade, "Crashed? I crashed?"

And then for the first time since he woke up, he took notice of the various pains and aches his body was emitting. "What the hell?"

"I know. I felt the same way when you, uh, dropped in."

Tony was almost grateful to whoever this was, and was even considering offering a reward. But then he got a good look at the face of his savior— and saw him smirking in amusement at him.

Tony scowled, watching the other refill the glass with water. He was remembering bits and pieces now and he had planned on playing nice for once, but now, "Why is it so dark here? Forgot to pay the bills?"

Unfortunately, the stranger didn't rise to the bait. And as he came closer to Tony to place the refilled glass of water on a table beside him, it was just then that he realized that his savior wasn't a man—well, technically he was. But he was a child—probably only around 16 or so.

"Well," the other replied, smiling as he moved back from Tony, "I really wouldn't know, since I'm not the one who pays the bills and all."

"Yeah," he nodded curtly, "I can see that."

Tony looked around the room then, which wasn't actually a bedroom like what he had expected, but more of a garage-turned-multipurpose-room. He was lying on a huge sofa at end of the room, an afghan draped carefully over him. Beside him was a small bedside table, the lamp that had probably decorated it was on the floor, replaced by a first aid kit, some bandages, and the glass of water. Across from him was a long table filled with various pieces of... electronic things. A huge circular light fixture was above it, making it look like an operation table of machines.

Tony's interest piqued at that. Perhaps the boy's father was a scientist or an inventor like himself. He was used to fixing his suit using wits and spit, but he wouldn't turn down luck if it ever turned up.

So he asked, "Are your parents home?"

The kid had settled himself on a chair near the table, facing him. Fiddling with the pieces of technology on the table, he replied, "Nope. Why? Gonna ask them if they've paid the bills?"

Tony snorted, "Cute. Very cute. But no, seriously. Haven't you told your parents yet? You can't keep me a secret forever. I know I'm adorable and all, but I wouldn't make a good pet."

The boy stared at him in surprise for a while, and then he replied, "The first part is vaguely disturbing. And the latter," the boy shook his head, "No. Just… no. And if you must know, my parents aren't home, Mr. Stark. Well, my mother was supposed to pick me up this morning but, as you can see," the boy said, gesturing at himself, "Still here."

Tony wondered why he always got stuck with stupid people, "There is more than one way to contact other people, child. The first is to tell them in person. But I find that the more popular version is to call them up. So why don't you do number two so that we can both be rid of each other, hmm?"

The child rolled his eyes then and Tony could swear he almost stuck his tongue out at him. But instead of a snarky response, as Tony had come to expect, the child merely said, "Phone's dead."

And before Tony could respond, the boy interrupted, "And before you ask, Mr. Stark, I wouldn't know if the phone bill's been paid either."

"Party-pooper," Tony muttered loudly, pouting at the kid.

Seeing the pout, the kid instantly recoiled as he grimaced, "Oh geeze. Please spare me the theatrics! I don't wanna lose my dinner!"

Tony merely grinned at him, before turning his head away from the child as he began to lose himself to a badly needed sleep. This hadn't been the best rescue he's had and the child wasn't the most accommodating rescuer either. He had horrible manners, didn't know how to treat injuries (the bandages around his head was wrapped loosely, for a start), and he snarked at his patients even when they were unable to properly defend themselves!

However, despite these numerous faults, Tony saw genuine concern in those deep blues. The kid didn't want anything from him, even when Tony could give him anything he wanted; he was just genuinely worried about him. But aside from that though, Tony really, really liked the kid.

There was intelligence in those eyes, very, eerily similar to his own. Tony wouldn't even be surprised if this garage-slash-laboratory was the kid's. Tony had caught the way the other fiddled with the electronics on the table. Though he looked bored as he did it, there was also familiarity in the way he handled those pieces of technology, as if he knew what they were for, or what they were meant to do. And the kid had such character!

Most others would have immediately been intimidated by him. He was Tony friggin' Stark, after all (genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist). The masses either hated him or groveled at his feet. And most of them did grovel at his feet. Or pretended to, to get something from him. But this kid didn't. He snarked just as hard as Tony. It had only been a few minutes, but the bantering between them had felt scarily comfortable.

Closing his eyes and allowing sleep to overtake him, Tony's last thought was to call Pepper and blame her for this. After all, she was the one who had a penchant for children. Tony had never bothered with them, because despite his childishness, Tony had never really felt what it was like to be a child.

Pepper must be rubbing off on him, but really, was that such a bad thing?

xxx

For the next few hours the kid kept on waking him up periodically.

Tony knew this was because of the concussion he probably had, and he should be thankful to the kid for being so diligent, but it was getting really, really annoying. Besides, he knew his concussion wasn't that bad. At least, not bad enough to warrant the periodic checks if he was brain dead or not. The only reason why he was so tired was because he hadn't been sleeping for days now. None of them had. The threat of that bomb was more important than sleep, but now that that drama's over, he could finally afford the rest. And though he had been telling the kid off, the groans he made whenever he tried yelling wasn't really helping his case.

"Look, I'm just trying to treat you the way I've been taught how. And you keep on grimacing, isn't that bad?"

Tony sighed. The kid's concern was actually touching, seeing as how he was a complete stranger (he should get the kid's name sometime), but, "I'm grimacing because I have a headache which usually follows after you've hit your head really hard. I may have a concussion, but it's a mild one."

The kid looked at him skeptically, "A mild concussion? How do you treat that?"

"You don't," Tony shrugged, as best as he could while lying down, then he glared, "Uninterrupted sleep takes the headache away though."

The kid winced, then smiled sheepishly, "Oh."

"'Oh' indeed," Tony replied as he pulled the covers over his head. Before he slept though, he poked his head out of the covers and glared at the other boy, "And don't wake me up unless it's a life or death situation, got it?"

In reply, the kid offered him a salute and a smirk, "Aye aye, Cap'n!"

And speaking of captains... He should have probably called them the moment he woke up. But still, a few hours couldn't hurt, could it?

"On second thought," he said under the covers, "Wake me up in four hours."

When the boy didn't reply, he asked a little louder, "Child? Have you finally gone deaf or mute?"

Tony could imagine the kid rolling his eyes at him, "Four hours. Will do, oh supreme master. What else would you have me do?"

Tony smirked. Ah, sarcasm. The kid sure had it in spades. Barton would go well with this one.

"And my name isn't child. It's Lucas," the kid—Lucas (finally Tony had a name) grumbled.

"Well, since you asked nicely, child," Tony stressed, grinning, unable to let the chance go, "Get some rest. I'm gonna need your help with the suit tomorrow morning. You seem capable enough."

Lucas snorted, "You'd be surprised."

But Tony didn't hear that. He was already fast asleep.


TBC

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