Steve and Tony grew up together, though not in the traditional sense of the word. Steve's mother worked for Tony's family, one of five maids that kept the place clean and sparkling. Steve was seven that year and home sick from school more often than not. Their apartment was cold and drafty, not a great place for a sick boy, so as often as she could, his mother would bring him to work with her. He hid in the backrooms, at first, the rooms only for the servants, but after a while, that section of the house became very boring. Steve was always a brave child, though maybe not an exceptionally reasonable one. He decided to explore.

The mansion was bigger than any place he'd ever been before, with rooms and rooms that had no use, with no one living in them. There were enough bedrooms to sleep an entire army. There was a library bigger than the one in Steve's elementary school. There was even a ballroom, with a shiny floor which was fun to slide around on in his socks. He had a lot of fun in that room, until his coughing became too bad to slide anymore. Whenever that happened, Steve usually went to the greenhouse, where it was always so warm and sunny. And that was where he first met the boy.

The boy was taller than Steve by a very little bit and had dark hair and eyes. He was sitting between rows of plants, his back to the door, but he turned to look as Steve came in. Steve froze, unsure of what to do. He knew his mother would get in trouble if Steve was caught wandering the house, but he wasn't sure that leaving now would make any difference.

"Hi," he said tentatively, instead.

"Hey," the boy said. He didn't sound mad, so Steve ventured a few more feet into the room. When he got closer, he could see that the boy was holding some sort of little machine with wires of all colors coming out of it in every direction. "Who are you?"

"Steve. Are you Anthony?" Steve had heard the name before, though he'd never met the kid, who was supposedly away at boarding school.

The boy made a face. "Don't call me that. It's a gross name. Call me Tony, okay?"

"Okay," Steve agreed. "Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"Got kicked out," Tony told him and he somehow sounded both proud and guilty about it. "So now they're having me go somewhere around here."

"Maybe you'll go to my school," Steve said hopefully. Knowing the new kid even before his first day at school would be the very coolest.

"Nah," Tony said, waving a hand. "You probably go to a public school. They're sending me somewhere private."

"Oh," Steve said, disappointed. Then, because he really wanted to know, he asked, "What are you building?"

"This?" Tony asked, holding it up. "It's a robot. Or it will be. Someday. Come see."

Steve took the invitation and sat down beside Tony, who scooted close and held up his project, explaining the different parts of it and why some of them didn't work for now. After that, they started talking about school and what the difference was between public and private. They spent all afternoon there together in the greenhouse, until Tony had to go for dinner. They made plans before he left, though, to meet again the next day.

And that was how Tony and Steve became friends. They did meet again the next day, and the day after that. They stayed friends for eight more years, through fights and brief separations, through Tony getting kicked out of his fancy private school and having to go to one on the other side of the city, through people telling them gross and untrue things about puppy love and them getting married one day. They stayed friends until they were fifteen, until the day Tony died.

The funeral was okay, as far as funerals went, Steve figured. They had separate ones for Tony and his father, even though they both died in the same car accident. They were both very pretty services, the kind only rich people could afford. Steve knew it was stupid, but he couldn't help but think Tony would have hated the whole thing. Tony never liked big events, even if he was good at faking it. At least now, he'd never have to go to another big event, and that was something that made Steve smile a bit through his tears.

Honestly, the person Steve felt worst for, apart from himself, of course, was Maria. The poor lady lost her son and her husband all in one day, and now she was kind of losing her mind. She'd been inconsolable since the day of the accident, when Obi had called her from the morgue. He hadn't let her see the bodies, either, which Steve guessed made sense, since they died in a car accident. Steve didn't think he'd want to see Tony's body, anyway. He wanted to remember Tony full of life, smiling at Steve in the way that Steve had just started to think meant something more than friendship.

Obi must have had the same idea, because he hadn't let Maria or anyone else anywhere near the bodies. He'd handled the whole thing himself, and now he was handling the company, too. Maria was in no state for it, after all, and someone had to make sure the company stayed afloat while everyone got over the shock of losing the CEO and his heir apparent. Obi was a good man, Steve knew, and he would do right by the company.

It wasn't until years later that Steve finally realized how wrong he'd been in that thought.