It was a slow and gradual change and one no one had seen fit to tell him about. It was because of this that it came as a great shock to Tony Stark as he passed a mirror and caught sight of his reflection, that he had inadvertently turned into his father. He moved closer to his reflected image with a morbid fascination until his breath began to fog up the cool glass only to confirm that he looked more like Howard Stark than he did Tony Stark these days.
He had always resembled his father, that hadn't changed. What really caught his attention was his eyes. Cold and calculative eyes stared back at him through the glass and if he hadn't have known better he would have sworn that they were the eyes that he knew from the disappointed glances of his childhood.
He supposed it must have been gradual for he liked to think that if not someone would have hauled him aside one day and slapped some sense into him. But they didn't.
He could pinpoint the day it had started exactly. It was the only day that his oh-so-famous metal suit had been too slow to save what really mattered. Coincidently, it was also the last day he had ever worn that suit.
He had hoped that pain would fade eventually, even a reprise would have been welcome, but it never left him. In a way it became a welcome companion, unchanging and constant. So unlike those he once called his team. They had all tried to help in their own way, at first, Bruce was there as silent support whenever he needed him, it was Steve and, surprisingly, Natasha who organised the mundane day to day things like food being on the table and it was Clint and Thor who stood on the sidelines, unsure of what they could do to help but willing to do in any way they could. It remained so for a while but eventually he sent them all running for cover with either sharp words or callous actions. Still, even now he was barely ever alone, when that was all he really craved. After all, he could look after himself.
Except it was just him anymore. It was him and his son.
His son who was far too young to understand what was happening around him or why it was happening. His son who, while he was too young to know why his father would never meet his eyes or look directly at him, was old enough to notice it happening.
Tony never meant to become the sort of father that he himself had had and at first things seemed to be going well. He talked to his child endlessly about subjects that most adults would have trouble comprehending, he bored his friends mindless with his spiels about the latest achievements, whether it be the first time his son was able to roll over or the first time that he had managed to walk unaided. He did everything right.
But that was before.
After, his words towards to his only child became brittle with a hidden sharpness lurking just of comprehension. Instead of looking after his son in the evenings a nanny was hired to do so while he stared listlessly into the fire with a half drained tumbler of scotch in his slack grip. Nothing his son did anymore could inspire any sort of emotion within him, when the boy who still had yet to reach ten years of age came bounding up to him with tales of new discovery already falling from his lips he would smile and congratulate him. But the smiles were becoming harder and harder to fake and the empty words of praise seemed to repeat themselves.
When he realised this it was around the time that his son began taking his stories of excitement and wonder elsewhere. It was then that he could see Steve's genuine smile as he ruffled the small boy's hair or Bruce's uncharacteristically wide grin as he listened with interest to the child's enthusiastic ramblings that were so like his own. Even on the one occasion when his kid had sought out Natasha, he had been almost shocked to see her give an unusually carefree laugh as she offered a rare high five.
So it was then as Tony looked into the mirror and shadowed eyes looked back at him that he realised he had become what he detested. He wondered though, if it were the same situation. His father had lost nothing and yet had still been what he was, and yet he had lost everything. Even as he looked through the glass panes of the walls and into the next room where his son sat working diligently on a project, of which he knew nothing, he had to ignore the pang of hurt in his chest.
Everything about the boy was painful, from his copper hair to the fiercely determined expression he wore upon his face. It was all just reminders that he had lost her. The one thing he knew he could never bear to lose, and yet he had done so anyway.
He knew that his Pepper would have been ashamed of the man he had become and as he looked into the mirror and consequently the almost-face of Howard Stark he could understand why. She had believed him to be a better man and it was time to stop disappointing her.
Silently, Tony opened the door and walked in and sat beside his son who looked up in surprise at his father's sudden presence. Tony took a deep breath as it suddenly occurred to him that he might be too late; the damage was undoubtedly done, would his son ever forgive him-?
The child's almost blinding grin from beside him was all the answer he needed as he hesitantly returned the smile.
….
A/N- Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it! If you did, please leave a review to tell me what you liked (or didn't) as all of them are appreciated!
Thank you,
VE