2. Tiny Tony
"Guys," said he, and although there was a certain cockiness in his voice, there was also a slight shakiness, "this is starting to get old, don't y—?"
One of the boys shoved him against the lockers with so much force that, for a moment, it left Tony breathless. None of this was really a new event. The older boys would corner him and ask for something. They usually wanted his homework; sometimes, they made Tony buy them lunch. However, in times like this, it was that big mouth of his what had got him in trouble.
He could not even recall what he had done this time. Oh, right. He was showing off his mathematical skills again. He remembered saying something about how many donkeys the high school accepted those days. He almost smiled at the memory, but then the leader grabbed him by the lapels, almost choking him, and every thought vanished from his head.
"Shut your mouth, buffoon. It's clear you don't learn. Is your brain as small as you that can't learn what ain't in the books?"
A chorus of laughs followed and Tony felt how his eyes stung with undesired tears. He hated that part of himself: being so sentimental, so weak. His father was right. He could never be Captain America. He could never be a hero, even though he was a genius. But what good came from being a genius? There he was, surrounded by incompetent fools, yes, but stronger than him. Bigger than him.
"Well," he spat venomously, because he was truly incapable of keeping his mouth shut, "maybe I really need another lesson, but you're gonna need a lot more, because I'm sure as hell I'm not gonna help you with your homework."
The other boy, almost five years older than him, only laughed. Tony felt his blood run cold.
"Oh, such a big mouth for such a tiny kid. Yeah, I think you really need a lesson. And everyone knows what the best place for learning manners is. C'mon!" he shouted to the other three boys, dragging the younger child towards the restrooms.
Hours later, he was sitting in the back of the car with fresh bruises in his arms and a very bad mood. The bruises were hidden under his sweater. Yet, he knew Jarvis sensed that something was wrong. The butler said nothing during the ride, but did try to stop Tony when he got out of the car and ran to the mansion.
Jarvis found Tony in his room, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. Jarvis sighed and sat on the floor next to him. The Englishman usually disliked such things. Still, Tony showed no surprise. The child knew very well by then that Jarvis was the only one willing to go out of his way to make him feel better. He supposed that was what love was like.
"What happened?"
Tony bit back a sigh. There was no way he was going to complain.
"Nothing."
Jarvis offered no answer and finally, silence infuriated Tony enough to break it.
"It's the same as always, Jarvis. Those wankers just won't leave me alone."
"Tony! Where on earth have you learnt that word?"
Tony smiled sheepishly.
"I heard it to Aunt Peggy the other day."
Jarvis frowned, but went back to the most important topic.
"Tony, you must say something. To a teacher, the head-teacher, anyone."
The ten-year-old shook his head vigorously.
"No, I can't do that. I can stand it, Jarvis. I know I can."
Such was the earnestness present in Tony's eyes that Jarvis felt how his heart broke once more for that boy. He, more than anyone, knew of Tony's need for validation, for approval.
He leaned a bit to his side and put his arm around Tony's shoulders without a second thought. Immediately, Tony leaned against him as well.
"I know it, too. But you don't have to, young sir."
A/N: What did you think? Please, review!