In which a case is made and Jarvis makes a mistake. Slight humorous chapter.
"Jarvis," started a softly accented voice. "are they arguing about me again?"
The emerald eyed teen glanced at the muted screens in front of him. He watched as Nick Fury argued with Stark. Steven, once more, placed himself bodily between the arguing duo. The boy knew that Steven often sided with Fury in everything. Everything, that is, unless it came to 'that damned trickster', as the team called him.
"Sir, it is ill advised to—"
"Yes, yes, I know. I shouldn't watch it and let it get me upset. Thank you. Real pal."
Jarvis remained silent for several moments before adding, "You should continue with your lessons, young Antony."
Antony nodded as he flicked the screen nearest his left hand. The arguing trio vanished into the back of the screen as text flitted across. Antony read the lines with vague interest. He found he enjoyed Shakespeare, however reading about who he might have been named after bored him. Cleopatra he could do without; he enjoyed Henry V more.
"Jarvis," he began once more, eyes beginning to glaze over. "What is a 'sweet sixteen' party?"
The three screens around him flickered as Shakespeare faded into bright pictures. Cake, candles, gifts and party streamers flashed around one screen while definitions and historical data rotated along the other two.
"Wait, there! Pause."
The screen directly in front of the young demi-god paused, a dark green car frozen in a sharp turn.
"What does a vehicle have to do with the turning of age?" he asked.
"Simply put, sir, when one turns sixteen, one may obtain a drivers permit."
Antony tilted his head slightly, eying the screen. He had been in a 'car' before. He had been in several. He didn't like the large boxy one that S.H.I.E.L.D. had all but thrown him in. It was spacious, to be sure, but had shaken and jolted with every bump and dip. The 'ambulance' had been cramped, smelly and he had not enjoyed the close contact with those attempting to stop the wounds on his chest from bleeding. The cars Stark had in his lab were sleek in design and beautifully appealing. Stark had allowed him to watch while he repaired an engine some weeks past. The only description Antony could attribute with the sound was, as Stark had, that of a large growling cat.
Glancing behind him, Antony took in the sight of one such car surrounded by large screens, fans, misters and wires. Stark, on a bored day he claimed, had rigged the car up to create one giant simulator. There has been a reference to something called 'The Big Bang Theory' that he did not understand, but the car did look inviting.
"Sir, I would caution you against what you have planned."
Flinching at the sharp tone the ceiling had taken, Antony glanced longingly back at the screen.
The ceiling was silent for several moments before an almost whispered "the green button" flowed softly to waiting ears.
Antony wasted no time in propelling his body from the spinning chair into the awaiting embrace of the drivers seat.
The car was not what Stark would consider his best. It was an Impala with a dented door, sheared of roof and missing backseat. While he never mentioned why he had such a disaster of a car, he defended the damaged thing, refusing to get rid of or repair the damage.
"Besides," he had said, "it gives the simulation more edge."
The ebony haired teen buckled his belt—he was sure Stark had mentioned always doing that—before pressing the green button. Six large screens lifted and rotated. One directly in front of the car and the other directly behind him took up the width of the Impala. Four more screens were angled to the corners of the car. The doors were not blocked with screens, allowing Antony to easily glance past the simulation to the rest of the lab. He wasn't sure when it had happened but he had gained a slight phobia with tight places and blocked views. At all times, he needed to be in view of at least one exit.
Looking forward, the young man smiled as wind caressed his face and played with his hair. Before him stretched a long dirt road with fields on either side. It was straight and wide with little room for error. He could just make out the faint smell of grass and dirt when Jarvis began his lesson.
"Now, place your hands on the steering wheel at the ten and two positions as if you were looking at a clock."
He remembered the lesson on how to tell time and use a watch. While the clocks were pretty to look at, he became rather fond of the digital versions that immediately gave the time. Another annoyance, he mused. He was not afraid of not knowing the time so much as it sometimes gave him a crippling attack when he was stuck in a white room with no idea how much time was passing. He wished he could ask his father if he had any fears. Instead, he made note to ask Steven.
Tony was frustrated. He was tired, too. On top of it all he was out of his league.
Dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D., Pepper, his own company, and being Iron Man was hard enough to manage without Captain sparkle pants dragging Bruce against him.
Bruce was his brother. They were buddies. They made beautiful science together. Until the Capcicle threw together a hasty rescue mission to get the son of demon spawn, Antony, from the evil clutches of his boss. Bruce, surprisingly, had agreed that the boy needed to get away from S.H.I.E.L.D. at soon as possible.
Thor had said nothing to his nephew being manhandled into a cell. He was convinced it was some clever trick by Loki. Maybe the kids was Loki and he was just pretending to be a kid to kill them in their sleep.
But then Bruce had stepped in and proven with blood work and magic scans and bone density charts that it couldn't be Loki but, with a paternity test, raised suspicion that he was the father.
Then the boy had given his woefully sad story of being raised on a prison planet and his mother being killed and poor Loki protecting him and helping him escape. Of course, he helped with some of the attacks afterword. They needed supplies and no one was killed. Loki had caused the chaos and he had 'simply stolen what was necessary.'
"but how did you come to be in the park?" Tony had asked.
He was taken, of course. Oh, shocking. That last rabid attack from Loki? He had been trying to find him. He thought S.H.I.E.L.D. or, worse, Odin had discovered Antony and taken him.
"So what happened after Loki was taken?"
That was met with silence. Every time it was asked, no matter the way it was phrased, nothing was said. Once, and only once, he had given an answer that Fury had not deemed good enough.
"He redeemed himself, can it not be enough?"
Tony knew. Thor knew. The glistening behind the Captain's eyes demonstrated he knew. Fury, the counsel, the rest of those privy to such knowledge, did not think so. They wanted to hear it. They wanted to hear someone, anyone, breathe the words of Loki's death at the hands of the Chatari. Someone wanted an acknowledgement that the god's final act had been to save his son.
Rogers didn't need to hear it. He fought to have Antony placed in Avengers town. Bruce, in his ever subtle way, had helped ensure it. Who better to watch the kid then a tower full of super heroes? If the Hulk could take down Loki, then a willowy half Loki would be nothing.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, Tony made his way to his lab, thoughts passing to Fury. He had not been happy Antony had been given free reign to Tony's floor without an Avenger present. The billionaire had argued that Jarvis was more then able to watch him. Besides, he added, Antony was in class, not out causing chaos. The one-eyed man had not been happy with the idea of the spawn of the enemy learning about anything Midgardian. Rogers, bless the boy scout, reminded Fury that the kid knew enough about Midgard to know what to steal. He knew basic medicine and first aid, as well as how to function a cell phone, computer and the internet. It was only a matter of time before he figured out everything else. Bruce was happy to comment that Jarvis was steering his lessons towards compassion and away from 'stab first, question later'.
Tony did not want the kid in his tower. It was strange and weird and it had taken forever to get his father's imprint from out of the floor. It was difficult to look at him and not see Loki grinning back. When he watched Antony stare out of the window Loki had so ceremoniously thrown him from, chills ran up his spine. He was more then happy to let Fury keep the budding sorcerer.
Rogers had called him a few names. Bruce said he couldn't judge the son by the father's actions any more then he could judge Bruce for Hulk's.
In the end, it was easier to take the wrath from Fury then the disappointment from Bruce or the 'Howard would have' from Rogers.
Tony slowed his pace as he stepped lightly down the stairs. Music echoed in the small corridor in front of the glass doors.
"Oh, no. No. Oh, NO." he mumbled, shuffling towards the car currently zipping through simulated roads.
"Apologies, sir, but I seem to have inadvertently created a Hannah Montana obsession."
From the car's speakers blasted 'Life's What You Make It' as simulated wind whipped around the sunglasses perched on top of the drivers head. The simulated sun had begin to set behind high reaching buildings while other drivers swished by. Antony belted out the loud lyrics as he tapped his fingers to the wheel. It was clear the song had been played several times.
Tony turned to escape his lab yelling, "Nope, can't do it. This is the Captain's territory. Nope."
Antony, only glancing at the distraught man, laughed softly before hitting his turn signal to ease his way to the exit Jarvis had instructed. He was heading to the DMV for his virtual license and he was very happy about it.