Tony stumbled out of the tall building, the crisp air whipping his face and making an involuntary giggle erupt from his chest. He stumbled forward and fell into the snow, not a soul around to ask if he was okay, except for the doorman, who seemed a bit too pleased that the young Stark was making a fool of himself. He flipped over and sighed, watching his breath curl into the air in a thin cloud as he stared up at the tall building before him. Tony was angry. He was angry because his mother died and he was angry because he hated his father, who also, at this present moment, was no longer breathing. Tony could hear the music blasting from the penthouse of his father's old building. Tony had invited his entire high school to a stupid party, wanting nothing more than to taint the name his father created. In actuality, no one would care, and Tony knew this, which is why he left.

The young billionaire sat up then, the memories of his mom and the man he called father sobering him up enough to get him to stand, but not enough to stop him from tipping over again. He managed to catch himself though, and then he proceeded to drag himself down the street to wherever his drunken body carried him. He didn't know how long he'd been out, but by the time the chill of the air had him walking almost perfectly straight, and the only remnants of the party was the faint smell of whiskey on his breath, the sun was already coming up from behind the tall buildings, illuminating a quaint sign that glistened and caught Tony's attention. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyelids heavy with sleep, although his mind was far too awake to care. The nineteen year-old pushed the door to the orphanage open to be greeted with an empty desk and a warm light to his right. He followed it, mostly because he smelled food and couldn't remember the last time he ate. He opened the door, only to see three older women sitting around a large pot of potato soup. They stared at him.

"Can I help you sir?" The woman closest to him asked.

Tony took a moment to process what she was asking, and just as he opened his mouth to say no, his stomach growled. The woman laughed, and gestured for him to sit down.

"Sorry," He mumbled as one of them moved to grab a bowl for him. He remembered, at least, that not all adults were out to get him.

"Mrs. Sharman," A voice called, "Peter can't fall asleep again," A young boy sleepily whined, entering the room while Tony was mid-bite. The boy froze, and then his face lit up. "Hey you're Tony Stark!" He exclaimed. Tony forced a smile to his face and nodded slightly, quickly shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth, hoping to mask the smell of alcohol he was most likely exuding. After all, he wasn't even legal yet, and as much as he hated the company he was inheriting, the last thing he wanted was to crush this kids dreams on how 'amazing' Tony Stark was rumored to be. Not yet, at least.

Mrs. Sharman followed the small boy out of the room, only to return moments later, with another small boy resting on her hip.

"Tony Stark was it? If I had known there was a celebrity here I would've gotten out my fine china." The woman was obviously joking, but Tony couldn't help the way he cringed when she called him a celebrity. Choosing to ignore her comment, Tony glanced at the boy who was staring at him. He had a mop of brown hair and big brown eyes, and Tony, for a second, was reminded of himself when he was young. The boy, what was his name? Patrick...no Peter. Peter reached his hands out toward Tony, and without thinking, the nineteen year old stood up and took the boy into his arms. Mrs. Sharman laughed lightly, but all Tony could focus on was the way Peter wrapped his arms over his shoulders and pressed his face into the crook of his neck.

"Oh my. He fell asleep instantly." Mrs. Sharman noted impressed.

Tony didn't say anything, but seemed to really liked how warm Peter was. Tony was about to ask about Peter's parents and then remembered that he was in an orphanage. Then the words slipped out of his mouth and he blamed it on the alcohol. "I want to adopt him." The idea was outrageous, but Tony, he decided then, had the last name Stark, and he would make it count for something.

There was silence in the room, as Mrs. Sharman pursed her lips into a thin line. "Mr. Stark with all due respect, I don't know if that will be possible."

Tony pulled out his phone and dialed Pepper, his father's former assistant and two-years his senior.

"Pepper, I want to adopt him. Get it sorted out." He hung up the phone after that, not giving her time to reply. He knew she had tabs on him. Ever since he heard that he inherited the company Pepper has been bugging him about responsibilities. If he didn't find her charming he probably would have fired her, although he's surprised she hasn't left on her own. She tried to, once. But when Tony didn't protest she stayed to spite him.

"Mr. Stark even if you go through the process it can take up to two years for it to-" Mrs. Sharman started.

"Pepper will take care of it. Besides, this place is up for destruction on behalf of my father's company. I'm going to be revoking the plan at the next meeting. I'll provide any funds needed to help this place grow." He stated, pulling his phone out and taking notes as Peter stirred. It was an ass-hole move, but Tony could have cared less at that moment. He had made a decision and was going to go through with it no matter how pretentious it was.

"As much as I appreciate your kindness Mr. Stark, Peter is not leverage for that. He's a child and he will need proper care. You're nineteen, how do you expect to raise a child on your own?" Mrs. Sharman snipped, growing impatient with Tony's attitude.

"I raised myself, Mrs. Sharman."

She paused, "That's not the same."

"You're right, because unlike me, he'll have someone to help him." Tony's words were soft and hushed so he didn't wake Peter. Mrs. Sharman's face softened slightly and the door swung open a bit wider to reveal Pepper. She sighed.

"Tony-"

"I want to adopt him Pepper." Tony sounded so sure of himself that Pepper's protest caught in her throat and died down. She didn't know how this would work, but she saw the way Tony looked at the boy and she remembered once, when Tony's father looked at him that way and she couldn't say no.