Hey guys. This is ch2. I'm very grateful for the positive response this piece has been receiving thus far. For those who have left reviews, thank you ver much. I really appreciate your patience in waiting for this update and your patience for reading through utterly rubbish English. Like always, please leave a review. I really want to know how I can improve this. So... I hope you enjoy this second chapter!
Third person's POV
The room was left in stunned silence. It seemed as though everybody was stuck in their own stupor. Some wore faces of guilt and remorse, others seemed unconcerned.
Apparently, their actions of obliviousness not only angered Peter, but the AI as well.
"If I may, sirs, I believe all of you owe Mr Stark a contrite apology. He has been toyed with ever since he was a child. To think he once, and finally, found solace in his closest teammates, only to have them betray him and treat him like utter trash. I am beginning to think you do not know a lot about him and his past. If I could, I would inform you all about his previous records. Unfortunately, sir had sealed that file shut and strictly forbade me from notifying you anything about this. I must say, the treatment sir has been receiving from you is deeply disturbing." the AI growled, contempt evident in its normally chirpy tone.
Tony had always had impeccable timing, and sometimes, that presented a great problem.
Staring at his miniature device, he unknowingly stepped into the room. Gaze still focused on the machine, he called out,
"Friday, have you seen Peter? Can you send him up to my lab?"
"Sir, it seems that Mr Parker has left approximately 5 minutes ago. Would you like me to call his mobile phone?"
"Yeah. That prick left his bag in here. Thanks Fri."
"Sir, I would not advise you to conduct your call here."
"What are you talking about, Friday?" Confusion creeping into his voice.
The perplexing sight of the full team met his gaze once he tore them off his device. Quickly, he bowed his head, not wanting to cause them any more additional discomfort, then swiftly made his exit, striding out of the room in 2 large steps.
"Dammit, can't a man just use his kitchen to make one frickin sandwich?" he muttered under his breath, annoyed.
"Tony!" Bruce shouted after the man.
The remaining team members on the couch stared at the doctor with surprise and shock.
Tony must have heard him, for he halted in his steps, only to continue marching away even quickly, as if he couldn't wait to find a hole and hide away.
Bruce glared at them harshly, orbs with a slight hue of green, displaying the silent rage built up inside him. Then, he stood up abruptly and jogged after the man. That seemed to jolt Thor out of his trance as he leaped up and followed the doctor, a crease evident between his eyebrows, lips quirked down to form a deep frown on his normally joyful features.
"Tony! Wait up!"
Hearing his name only seemed to agitate Tony more so than he already was. Anxiously, he sprinted to his lab. Upon his arrival, he managed to choke out in between short breaths,
"Friday, initiate… initiate lockdown… protocol… effective immediately."
"Question: Mr Parker?"
"Yes, allow him, and only him, admittance to the workshop."
Hand clawing at his arc reactor, Tony limped to a nearby wall and slid down slowly. Waiting for Peter, he pondered over what the Avengers were doing in that room and why two of them showed a sudden interest in his miserable life.
Peter stalked to the workshop, trying to calm himself such that his little talk won't be uncovered by Tony.
He halted to a stop when he noticed the doctor and the God shuffling awkwardly at their feet, ushering each other to enter the workshop.
"Doctor, Thor, what are you doing here?" Peter lilted sweetly, trying to seem sincere, but he couldn't after witnessing how the lot had treated his mentor.
Thor opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the AI. It seemed as though it had picked up after its creator after all, with the crude remarks and impeccable timing.
"Mr Parker, sir is requesting for your presence."
The doctor tried to follow Peter into the lab, but was blocked by none other than the AI.
"Doctor, Thor, my apologies, but sir has ordered the lab on lockdown. Only Mr Parker may be permitted."
Shrugging carelessly, Peter chortled inwardly, then pushed the door to enter the workshop.
"Mr Stark, you wanted to see me?"
Tony had his head buried in between his knees, one hand on the arc reactor, the other tugging harshly at his hair. He must've thought the smaller he could curl up, the easier he could disappear.
Alarmed by Peter's voice, he shot up from his position, accidentally knocking his elbow into the vapid wall.
"Ah…. yes Peter. Ouch. Okay, uh. I just wanted to say thank you for earlier, though I am not sure what you did since my memory is a little fuzzy. You left your bag here, so I called you in to retrieve it. If you want to, we can talk about the upgrades now."
Peter scrutinized his mentor's appearance: A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead; his hair disheveled and unkempt, sticking up in different awkward directions; deep dark bags highlighting his dull, hollow eyes. Most importantly, the way he spoke. He lacked his usual wit and sarcasm, almost as though he feared Peter. To say Peter was concerned was a major understatement, but he knew his mentor. If he were to cling on to him and force him to answer his questions, Mr Stark would only withdraw and might even remove his access to the lab. Currently, he was the only one permitted, and he was content to keep it that way.
"Mr Stark, the upgrades can wait. Uh… I'll just take my bag and… go, alright? If you need me, just ring me up and I'll be here ASAP. You rest up, and try to nick some more sleep."
Confusion immediately darted across the mentor's features, fearing even the youngest member of the group might ostracize him.
"No! Mr Stark, it's not like that. I just… you seem tired, and I don't want to stress you out more than you already are… Besides, you need to lay down. Inspiration won't hit you in your current state, yeah?" Peter quickly protested, wary that his words might put on additional pressure on the already fragile frame.
"Yeah, kid. Thanks for the help earlier. You get home to that hot aunt of yours okay? Ring me up if she wants a date. Don't go swinging yourself around and diving into trouble." Tony smirked, trying to resume his calm and snappy facade.
Throwing a final glance at the room, specifically the pills, Peter nodded fervently. He chirped a goodbye, then bounced out of the room.
At this moment, Tony didn't know what to think, or what he was thinking. All he seemed to hear was a huge swarm of bees buzzing about in his head. He was forcefully thrust onto a roller coaster, shoved ahead on the frightful and thrilling ride.
He never liked roller coasters.
Everything blurred together and it moved too speedily, too quickly, and despite being a genius, he didn't like it as it hindered his ability to decipher the whatsoevers going on in his surroundings.
Snap out of it Stark. Stark men are made of iron. Stark men are made of iron. We do not show weakness. Stark men are made of iron. Stark men are made of iron. Stark men are made of -
SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.
He let out a desperate shriek in endeavor to stop his mind from snatching control from him.
Don't get him wrong, he loved his genius brain, but he didn't like it when this happened.
All stilled, all quieted; all paused, all froze. Even the incessant ringing he used to hear when times like this happened was absent. He let out a small sigh of relief.
Though his joy was short lived. Oblivious to the man, the doctor and the God had witnessed the entire incident, as did the archer in the vents.
It was fortunate that these imbeciles did not have their judgement severed. The God rapped his knuckles on the workshop door, nudging the man out of his trance.
Tony assumed his calm and collected face, then reached out to the AI,
"Friday, please inform them I have initiated the lockdown protocol, and tell them to fuck the hell off."
"I have alerted them previously sir, but they do not seem to budge. They are adamant in seeing you, sir."
Muttering profanities under his breath, Tony stomped over, wrath evident in his steps, then wrenched the door open roughly.
"In what universe does "lockdown protocol" translate to "please continue to bug me", Hm?"
"Brother Anthony-"
"Don't ever call me Anthony. Ever."
"Brother Tony, I believe we have a long overdue conversation."
"Huh, do we…? Friday, do I have that on my schedule?"
"No sir."
"There you have it."
Stupefied silence accompanied the palpable tension in the workshop.
"Tony, please? Give us a chance mate, we need to talk."
"Do we though? Friday, do I have "a talk with Bruce Banner" notated on my schedule?"
"Again, no sir."
"Huh. I wonder why." He said, smirking at the two.
"Brucey, if you have a fever and are delirious, please proceed to the med bay downstairs. Thor, give him a hand will ya? Wouldn't want the brilliant scientist here to ruin his astonishing brain. That will be deeply detrimental to your team, like the capsicle always says. Can't have that now, can we."
Tony snarked, celebrating internally at the shocked expressions the two have on their faces.
"Friday, send the guests out, will ya. Dumee, get me a glass of scotch. Had enough coffee for the day."
"This way please, Doctor Banner, Thor."
Tony turned around, only to run into the archer.
"Jesus Christ, what is with people nowadays? Do you not understand the words "respect" and "privacy"?"
"Tony, we need to -"
"Talk. I've heard that a lot lately. Friday, help me out here. Thanks Dumee."
"I believe sir does not have a talk scheduled with you, Agent Barton."
"Thank you, Fri, you're the best. Drink?" Tony grinned, gesticulating to the glass in his hand.
Clint just looked away in exasperation.
"Friday, make a note to lockdown all the vents during lockdown protocol. Can't have assassins sneaking up on me to carve out this amazing brain of mine, can we."
"Yes sir."
Tony then proceeded to ignore Clint's unexpected presence, choosing to continue his tinkering with the newest model of the iron man suit he had been working on. He snorted: it's not like he's going to use it anytime soon after all, with this whole mess blaring at his face.
"In case you mistook the silence as a permission to stay, it's not. I'd appreciate if you could pick up your archer ass and shoot your way out of my workshop. Why in fuck's sake are you all crowding me all of a sudden anyway, eh?"
"Tony, I saw your entire episode from the vents."
"So what, Barton? That gives you the right to question me? After actively isolating and avoiding me? That gives you the right to waltz in here and do whatever you want to? That gives you the right to invade my privacy? Come on, birdbrain, it honestly does not take a genius to know that you people want nothing to do with me. Why are all of you pouncing on me?"
Tony raged, stepping closer and closer to the agent menacingly with each vindictive question. The archer kept an emotionless expression on like the way he was trained to do so.
"Focus, Clint." He chided himself. "You're here to collect information."
"Tony. I am here on official business. Fury wants to know more about your background information and your past. Currently, SHIELD does not have it in great detail and they intend to fix it. Please don't make this difficult."
Tony visibly blanched at the mention of his past.
Howard stalked over, screaming profanities at an 8-year-old Tony.
Howard constantly telling Tony that he was not good enough, that he was never going to be good enough, and that there was no way he was ever going to succeed in his sorry excuse for a life.
Howard absent at all his graduation ceremonies, award presentations and competitions.
Howard slapping his son whenever he cried because crying is a weakness, crying is pathetic, Stark men are made of iron and crying is prohibited.
The devastating death of his dear butler Jarvis, one he treated like his father.
People pretending to befriend him when really, all they wanted was to manipulate this innocent child and his wealth.
Becoming a public figure, yet have the feeling of utter loneliness and desolation engulf him.
Realising the destructive power of his weapons, and who it truly was wielded against.
Kidnapped and tortured at Afghanistan.
Watching the only friend he knew, Yinsen, die, because his father had been correct all along, because he was not good enough.
Having Obie, the person he trusted the most, rip the arc reactor straight out of his chest, even going so far as to kill him.
Having to deal with the aftermath of all the psychological abuse and the post traumatic stress. Alone.
Having to put up the thick walls he so carefully built whenever he wasn't alone.
Have the world call him a narcissistic being even when he placed it so obviously in order to hide his weaknesses.
Getting to know the Avengers gave him a temporary shelter, but he was foolish to think that they would ever stick with him through thick and thin.
Him giving the world his all, yet have everybody step on him, under-appreciate him, even see him as a threat.
Meeting Peter, the one person he knew that looked up to him as a father and a mentor. And he might have just ruined this friendship he cherished dearly between this kid and himself.
And Barton just gets to stomp in here and demand to know about his past?
"Tony. Hey, Tony."
Clint's voice brought him out from the rapid flashbacks his mind was playing, entirely unaware of the fact that he now had tears cascading down his face, dripping onto the workshop table. Only when a tissue was handed his way did he realise his repulsive actions.
Idiot, Stark. You're such a weak person. Crying is showing weakness, and you seem to have a potential in doing that, don't you? Pathetic.
Quickly, Tony wiped off his tear tracks, pretending nothing had happened.
"Get. Out. Tell Fury he can fuck off." Tony punctuated, voice silent and dangerous.
Never had Clint heard the billionaire spoke so quietly, so seriously, lacking his usual wittiness. He used to think that he would be grateful for the day the billionaire had finally decided to shut his damn mouth. Never had he thought he would be concerned simply because the billionaire refused to speak.
His soft footfalls echoed throughout the lab as he made his exit, his gaze landing on the prescribed medicine sitting innocently on the bench.
Peter was right.
He needed to fix this.
They needed to fix this.
What won't you tell us, Stark?
Erm, yeah, that's it for this chapter. Please kindly point out all the grammar mistakes cuz my English is abysmal. Again, please review, please do. Please tell me if you think it is horrendous. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and please leave a review. Thanks! :)