screw timelines though and ages. i just wanted to put my rhodey/tony feels in ficformat.
may or may not be a working series of fics with tony and rhodey adventures ('cause i still want to explore some stuff, but couldn't make it work in this fic).
FLASHBACK
James Rhodes is a first generation student, second year at MIT, when he meets the fourteen-year-old prospective student Tony Stark. Moviesverse.
James hastily smooths the front of his shirt and unfolds the curled hem, after having maneuvered the gauntlet of students. He waves at an acquaintance from this semester's Econ class when he passes her by. He notes her group of excited parents, guardians, and high schoolers and sympathizes with Lana, knowing she just got over her cold.
And then. He is just a few steps away from the only group that he's going to be conducting today's afternoon tour for, per the particular request of his supervisor (who has been pressured to make the best tour possible, by the Dean of the School of Engineering).
Tony's fiddling with the zipper of his jacket (slung over his arm; it's too warm for a jacket and he blames Jarvis for having suggested the jacket in the first place. Considerate butlers and all.). The sun catches the metal whenever he shifts the zipper to the right. He's calculating the angle, just to see if he can maybe mess with some of the students streaming past him. It's his current experiment, out of boredom, and because the numbers are jammed in his head in this heavy (yet just a fraction, muted) flow of thought.
(Tony doesn't know quite yet how to ignore or turn off certain aspects of his mind. For the most part, he lets his mind run and stretch however it wants because it's the only thing keeping him from being so constantly bored.)
James clears his throat slightly, his fingers unconsciously flexing at his side as he prepares to introduce himself.
The noise doesn't do anything to Tony's focus.
"Uh," James starts politely, though awkwardly, "excuse me. Anthony Stark, right?'
"Tony."
"Sorry?"
"Just call me Tony."
"Right," he observes as Tony moves the jacket to hang over his other arm and resumes his actions, "Tony then. I'm your tour guide for today, James Rhodes."
"Oh," Tony blinks, finally distracted enough to look at him, "well. Hey."
Tony extends his hand out, which James takes with a warm smile, warm hand. The handshake is firm, but Tony's is far too firm, too assured, for a fourteen year old. The boy's eyes are on him intensely and James is careful to keep his hold strong, even as they both pull their hands away. He knows when he's being challenged, especially in condescending ways. Except, in this case and because of that awareness, he knows Tony is not judging, really, but just observing, figuring him out.
(Like an adult.
Like a businessman.)
"I know that your parents, Mr. and Mrs. Stark are joining us. Will they be here soon? Unless they're already here?"
"Fuck if I know."
James is slightly startled at the expletive (not because he's sensitive to cursing, but he just wasn't expecting it) and he supposes it shows, when the younger boy just laughs.
"Sorry," though he clearly is anything but, "too inappropriate for MIT?"
"No," James has to chuckle at that himself, "no. Trust me. It can get pretty nasty here."
He gets it. Tony is fourteen. And he's at that age, finding himself out and swearing, somehow, is an outlet for that. It's his way of being an adult, maybe, because Tony is not an adult, but he's supposed to be. He's in college, at fourteen. And James, most of the time, still doesn't know, isn't aware, that he's an actual adult.
"So. Should we wait then, for Mr. and Mrs.-"
"Chances are the old man's not gonna be able to come," Tony shrugs, "pretty great chances, actually. You wanna bet on it?"
James blinks at that, a little confused how to respond to the blatant, casual offer and Tony's grin - clearly confident he'd win said bet. He's really just taken aback by the young boy's demeanor.
He settles with a polite nod, "I know that Mr. Stark's job demands a lot of his time. We can still wait for him, since Mrs. Stark-"
"She's not coming either," Tony interrupts, "busy with some charity or something."
"Wait, I'm sorry," James is really confused at this point. Most parents, at least one, accompany their kid to these tours. "Does that mean...no one is coming?"
"Isn't that adulthood? When you gotta do crap without parents?" Tony cheekily grins, a little too tight in the corner.
It's ten minutes into the tour when Tony speaks up. James expects an inquisitive question, prepares the answer, but is - again - met with the unexpected.
"We can go without the tour."
"What? But we haven't-"
"I can read a map or whatever," Tony shrugs.
"It's...not really the same," James says as he rubs the palm of his hand against his neck nervously.
"The same what?"
"College experience."
Tony gives him a look and James simply thinks.
"Right."
"Grab a couple of napkins. No. More than that. Stop being stingy. Is there a deficit of napkins or something? I might make my decision about using Dad's money here, based on just that."
James thumbs for more napkins, but eyes the fact that Tony already has a generous number in his own hand.
"Meant to bring the notebook. Forgot it in the car," Tony explains, as they settle into opposing chairs. James still doesn't catch on what that means, until Tony takes out two pens (red and black) from his pocket. And it then makes sense.
When James's mom and his older sister were working at the diner during the weekends and James couldn't be left alone at home, he'd have to make do and doodle on the napkins after he was done with his homework. Eventually, young James learned flipbook art, though it wasn't exactly the best to do on such flimsy material. His mom and older sister were, nonetheless, entertained when they dropped by his stool, dropped a kiss on the top of his head, full trays balanced on both hands, and told him another fifteen minutes, and they could all go home.
James sets down the napkins in the middle of the table; Tony places his own on top of the stack.
After Tony's insistence that there is no need for a tour, Tony follows that up a statement that he's hungry. And they might as well get food, since the car isn't coming back for Tony at least two hours. Which gives great relief to James; it would put him in an awkward position to return to the office so early. And especially when Tony's admission into the school is incredibly important, as James has been told by faculty.
Tony lifts his head up abruptly, the napkin under his pen already riddled with text, shapes, designs, equations. His eyes scan around their table, seemingly searching for something. He reaches over to James' side, not even asking if James is done with the ketchup bottle, squeezes some into his own container of fries, before setting it down. He folds the napkin haphazardly and places it under said ketchup bottle, using it as a weight to hold down his makeshift notes.
"Fries are decent here," Tony says as he stuffs three of them into his mouth, generously coated with ketchup.
"Yeah, they are." James replies, eager that Tony is finding something enjoyable with the school, even if it is food. Food is always one of the deciding factors for a school, and that's more than okay with James if it makes Tony find the school more favorable of a choice.
Still. James feels like he's not doing his job right. He volunteered to be a tour guide because he wanted to help people make the right choice, the way he didn't. And now, all he's doing is sitting across the prodigy he should be making more of an effort to convince in applying here.
"So, why'd you choose here?" James asks.
"It's a good school," Tony says, with conviction, but not the same measure of passion - or, and here's the difference, self-conviction - that most students should have when choosing the school they want to go to.
James knows the tone all too well.
He narrows his eyes, "Yeah. It's a pretty damn good school. But is it a good school for you?"
Tony, at that, raises an eyebrow and looks up at him, "You saying I'm not smart enough for this place? Because I-"
"No," James has to laugh at that, the warmness of it surprising Tony for once, "shit, man. Let no one tell you you're not smart enough for this place. I know your IQ. I've seen what you can and what you already have done. I'm saying, is this place good for you?"
Tony just shrugs, resuming his writing, having switched from black to red, "Where else."
"Hey," James says quietly, not wanting to pressure him, "you wanna go here, I'm not gonna stop you. But it's four years in one place, studying whatever you want. You gotta know what you want to do and if it's worth it."
Tony laughs, "Hey."
"What?"
"I'm fourteen. If this place doesn't work out, I can just go somewhere else."
Tony finishes his food pretty quickly (except his fries. With the way Tony was eating them, he doesn't get why those didn't go first), typical of his age and appetite. James is still finishing his meal, though he felt awkward buying food when he should be working. Tony insisted he couldn't care less about boundaries or whatever. ("Buy food or not, I don't care, but I'm hungry.")
He then notices Lana's tour group, watching as she emphatically gestures to the food area. He supposes he's doing half his job, then, since Tony is aware of MIT cuisine options.
"I went to my local college back home, before MIT." James says suddenly, aware he hasn't even eased into a conversation.
Tony doesn't press on, but he does furrow his brow in confusion that he can't quite hide. Of why James is here.
James shrugs, "It just wasn't a good fit. When I was a senior in high school, I had the smarts to apply and everything to MIT. I just didn't have the money."
That piques Tony's interest as he stops writing, pen still in his hand. He doesn't say anything immediately. It takes a few seconds before he asks, "And now you do?"
James chuckles wryly, "I still don't, no."
Tony stares up at him, "How are you doing it?"
"Jobs. Scholarships. Loans," James replies evenly, as he finishes his food and rubs his fingertips against the napkin at his side. Tony watches intently these actions - again, observing, calculating.
(James won't get this is how Tony tries to understand people, like new data, until much later of their relationship.)
"Not all of us really get the chance to," James is unsure if he should say this, but drives forward boldly, "-to just 'go somewhere else' that easily."
Tony is slightly bashful at that, as he returns to look down at his napkin notes. He tries to hide this too and almost succeeds, but James is observant.
He notes how Tony is done with that napkin, vibrant red, but has yet to move to grab another napkin as he has been doing once there is no free space on one. He's just sort of staring at the napkin in front of him.
When James slides a fresh napkin towards him, Tony snaps to and just resumes working.
James has to excuse himself when his pager goes off, to which Tony only replies by shooing him off with a hand, acknowledging that James needs to locate a phone, assuring him he'll still be here. James trusts that, considering the deep focus of the young boy on his Project Napkin.
"I just got off the phone with Mrs. Stark. She's waiting. And she isn't sure where her son is. Where the hell are you?"
"What? I- I was told she wasn't coming. And Anthony Stark is with me. He was the one-"
"Well, whatever you were told isn't true. She's here. And she's waiting. Go get her. This is important, Rhodes."
"Got it. Sorry. Okay. I've got it."
When James returns to the table, there are at least eight napkins now under the ketchup bottle. Except Tony's ripping them into small shreds.
"That Mom?" He just says.
James blinks, "...Yeah."
"Oh," Tony shrugs and closes the container, half-full of fries, "yeah. I lied. She was coming all along. But I still don't need the tour. I'm applying anyway. So you can just tell everyone that wants me here, that I'm here."
"Mrs. Stark, I was misinformed that you weren't coming. I am really very sorry. Had I known, I wouldn't have started the tour without you."
Maria just smiles warmly and shakes her head, "It's alright. I have an idea of what happened and the...ah, misinformant."
She glances at her son.
"James Rhodes, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Stark." James says, as he shakes her hand.
"No need to be so stiff," she laughs, "Maria Stark. Please, call me Maria."
"Are you sure?"
"I've been called Mrs. Stark all day. I need some relief. Oh, what's this, Tony?"
She's startled when Tony just pops his container suddenly in front of her.
"You had lunch?" She looks to Tony, taking two fries from inside the container.
Tony shrugs, "I was hungry. Also, we finished the tour early."
"That quickly? Really?"
"Yup."
"Tony-"
"He's that good of a tour guide."
Maria frowns at her son and then looks to James, who is unsure how to take this situation, not wanting to overstep in clearly personal affairs.
"Uh. Yes," James finds himself saying, convinced somehow by Tony (and hell, Tony will be dragging him into such situations so many times in their friendship), "I'm...that good of a tour guide." A pause. "...Ma'am."
They're standing side to side, right where Tony was first sitting at when James found him, as James checks in with the office. The container of fries sits between them. A tree shades them from the sun.
"Tony. Just because you 'knew' somehow that your father would have an emergency to go to, does not mean you can just lie to that young man that I wasn't coming along for this tour. It makes it seem like I don't...," she sighs, "I'm sorry that I was late, but don't assume that I'm not going to come to these kinds of things. Because I always will try to. We just had complications with the car, that's all."
"I didn't lie," Tony says, though unconvincingly to Maria, "I just figured you were busy. And it's not like either of you have to be here, anyway. I've seen the school and both of you already know about the school. There's no point of you both having to be here."
Maria frowns. She takes his hand into her hand and squeezes, "Tony. The point is that this is a very important part of your life. It's college. And you're only fourteen. That's amazing and so exciting. It really is. And as parents, one of us - optimally both of us - should be here It doesn't matter if we know the school. We need to know if you know this is the school for you."
Tony doesn't really reply, as he picks up a fry with his free hand and nibbles at it.
"He's sorry he couldn't come." Maria offers gently, after a moment.
Tony snorts.
"Okay," she acquiesces, "not in so many words. But he is sorry, Tony. And I'm sorry you can't take my word for it."
(Maria learned very early on she couldn't just make up words for her husband, to their son about things Howard never actually said. Howard, she knows, loves Tony, but just doesn't express it and that's a fault she hopes he rectifies soon. Evidently, it is difficult for her to be the translator between her boys.
She knows entirely how unfair it is for her to have to have that responsibility in the first place.)
Tony just squeezes her hand before letting it go, to finish the fries. He leaves the crispy bits for her. Her favorite.
"Well," Maria says, "I...suppose that's it, then, if the tour is over."
She looks at James for a moment, to see if he'll say something otherwise. He shifts the weight to his other foot as he stands awkwardly, still unsure what to do. He's still really not certain why he, in the first place, went along with Tony's lie. Maybe just a natural respect for people's boundaries and privacy. He doesn't want to pressure the boy or make things more difficult than they apparently already are. James, of all people, knows family affairs should and stay private.
He can't help it though, the guilt, his discomfort at how this afternoon has turned out.
"Thank you for all you've done. Again, I'm so sorry that my husband couldn't make it and- I'm so sorry it took me such a long time to get here."
James just smiles, "No, it's alright. I understand how it can get. I'm just sorry that you didn't get the tour with your son."
"As long as Tony has seen the campus and," she turns her head slightly to the boy behind them, who is walking towards a trashcan to throw away the now empty and greasy container of fries, "-and enjoys it here. If he thinks he has a future here, then I'm okay with it."
James notes how the woman, herself, is uncertain.
"It's a good school," James offers, "it's- I mean, he's really smart. But I think it will- It is a good fit for him."
It's sad that James can't mean that as wholeheartedly as he usually means it, when ensuring parents with their child's place at MIT. He's not entirely sure if Tony himself has really chosen MIT out of personal will or is just choosing because 'where else.' Maria gives him a slight smile, as if understanding his thoughts, but it doesn't resolve James' concerns. It actually makes it worse, because God, it must be hell of a life - for this woman, to be the mother of Tony Stark, the wife of Howard Stark. To be Maria Stark.
"You're sweet," she says simply, "and I'm sorry Tony put you in such a tough situation, what with having to lie to me."
James swallows at this and hurriedly works at his apology, "Mrs. Stark, I am really sorry-"
"No, please." Maria sighs, "I'm not upset at all. I just mean, he shouldn't have done that to you."
Tony reappears at her side with a yawn, "Talking about me?"
"Always," Maria sighs, she links arms with her son, "well. I suppose that's it. Thank you very much, James. Good luck with school."
"Yeah. Thanks. Good fries."
James chuckles, "It was nice to meet the both of you. Good luck, Tony."
James remains unsettled, as the two walk away from him. And really he should just let it be. He's done all he can and it's been a weird afternoon with the Starks, for sure. But fuck, there he is.
"Wait- Mrs. Sta- Maria?"
"Yes?" Mother and son both turn around.
"Can I just- Can I bring you and Tony to just one more place? Before you leave? Last spot. College experience can't go without it."
Tony narrows his eyes, displeased clearly. James doesn't care. He's found why he's been so uneasy. Because hell if he's going to let Tony Stark get his way entirely.
"Could just get it custom-made," Tony says with a sigh, "or wait until I grow into it. Growth spurt, any day now. When did yours kick in, Rhodey?"
James doesn't get to answer either to the question or the random nickname, as Maria glares at her son.
"Absolutely not," she insists, "we are buying you a proper MIT sweatshirt. One that is already made and we are not just going to wait for you to grow into it."
"Mom, it's useless."
"Tony," Maria sighs, "it's tradition. It's the thing to do when you go to college."
"I think we can dispense with tradition, or whatever precollege shit at this point. It doesn't get more unconventional as is."
Tony, then, just walks away, in a rather conventional teenager way.
"I'm sorry about that," Maria says quietly as she folds it neatly away.
James grins, "I have a feeling this happens a lot. And besides, I'm used to it. I have my own little brother and sister who are about his age."
Maria laughs at that, outlining the letters of MIT with her index finger.
"Well," James starts, unsure if he should even butt in, but he already has so he might as well continue, "I might have a solution? I mean- I understand this may be strange, but-"
"Yes?"
"This is...embarrassing, to say. But I did a wash once and accidentally shrunk some of my clothes. I've got a sweatshirt. It's probably still too big for him, but a few more washes and it'll be right his size. Plus, growth spurt and all," Maria just nods at him, eyes wide and eager, "But. It'll save you the cost of buying - let's be honest, overpriced merchandise, or getting it custom-made."
Maria blinks at that and James just then realizes his words.
"Ah- But," he laughs at himself for that, scratches the back of his head, "guess that wouldn't be important to you."
"Oh no," Maria says, "no. That's very thoughtful of you, James."
"Just whatever makes it easiest for you and him, is all," James shrugs, "I remember it was a little awkward to be doing this kind of stuff, college stuff, with my own mom. Being on my own, but...still with her around. It's a weird place to be, growing up."
"Yes," she just says softly, pondering at the MIT lettering, and then looks back at him, "But, are you certain you'd want to do that? You paid for the sweatshirt yourself and it seems rude to just take it. I am more than willing to reimburse you."
Though James is tempted to take that offer, he politely refuses. He takes out one of the business cards for the tour office and a pen, offers them to her, "Just tell me how and where you'd like me to mail it."
She writes against a nearby wall and glances at James for a moment before returning to her writing, "Your mother must be very proud."
"Can you tell her that for me?"
Maria laughs as she hands him the card. He reads it over and makes a note at the top of the card "memo: send to STARK."
"Would you mind if I could get your number on the back of one of those cards?" she asks. They are both walking towards Tony, last located around the branded mugs, "Just so I have a way to contact you and properly thank you, when the package arrives. Or have any questions."
"Yes, sure. But, wouldn't you rather just have the counseling department? I'm just a student."
She just smiles at that, "You're also a very good person."
Two nights before Tony starts classes (as well as James' third year and hell, time goes fast), James gets a call.
"I'm- Mom. I'm calling him right now," he hears in a muffled voice, before the voice becomes clearer, "Rhodey. Er. Rhodes."
"Tony?"
"...I don't know where any of my classes are."
rhodey is supposed to graduate with tony in '87.
but
that...isn't in this fic.
my headcanon involves rhodey maybe having to take a semester or even a year off, and can't graduate on time. mom's sick, money's short, needs to return home. as thanks or support or compensation because this poor guy has to deal with their son, maria and howard (which would kind of explain rhodey's sort of smile when Tony mentions Howard in IM1) are the ones who help to pay off a portion of rhodey's tuition fees because it's a convenient plot thing, even if a bit unsettling that rhodey still uses stark money. tony never finds out they did that.
(also i apologize for the sloppy writing of not only clearly the timeline, but also why is Rhodey giving a tour? shouldn't someone else be doing it, that is more qualified/knowledgeable? whatever.)
ALSOALSO. that is a human Jarvis. not JARVIS.