bro·ken

ˈbrōkən/

adjective

having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.

"a broken arm"

(of a person) having given up all hope; despairing.

The elevator doors slid open onto the very last of the R&D floors. "Stay here." She advised the boy as she took off down the hall, her heels tapping out a crisp tattoo against the tiles.

"You're mad about something, and it's something new." He ducked behind a screen, reappearing on the other side with his palms extended. "And I actually don't know what it is this time."

"Look Tony, I can't protect you or this company unless you level with me."

"Okay, okay, I'll admit it, I dipped into the research funds for development, to be fair, I needed it and you cut off my allowance."

That wasn't what she had been expecting, "You what?"

His face fell as he realized that they most certainly weren't on the same page. "Oh." He kept moving about the room, keeping screens and bits of tech between them.

She hadn't moved, "You…" Incredulity was fading quickly, but still her head cocked, "what?"

He had dug himself his own grave on this one, "I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't locked my account for development, Pepper, I need that money."

Pepper shook her head, "No, Tony, you need to do research, I can't keep routing all of our funding to development when you won't research what you are developing." It had been a problem. She had allocated funds to distribute to their subsidiaries as grants.

Tony was quick to defend himself, "I'm researching through development! That's why it's called experimentation."

"You're not developing anything!" Pepper exclaimed, "You're hoarding funds, anyways that's not what I came down here about. I was a little more interested in the kid who has been waiting in our lobby who says you're all he has." She opened a screen on her tablet before turning it to face him.

"Nope, don't know him." He barely glanced at the screen. "Not mine, try to get the press to stay out of it, offer to pay off the mother if she wants to push for a paternity test." He looked back up to her after a moment, brows drawing together, "Usual drill, this is something else."

"Well he knows you, and I don't think he's after money." She waited for a moment before continuing. "His name's Harley Keener."

There was a beat in which Pepper saw the recognition flash before it mingled with an odd expression of desperation before his expression shuttered off entirely, hardening into something cold, "No."

She stalked around the counter, "No what? No, he's not your son, no, you don't know him, no, something else entirely, no what Tony?"

He stopped so suddenly she nearly collided into him as he turned to face her, "Yes I know him, no, he's not my son, and no, he can't be here, I don't want him here." He sighed and then gestured with the tool he had picked up as he reached for words to explain, "Look, I met him once in Tennessee." Oh, she realized, he was that kid.

"Tony, I think he actually needs you, or at least he thinks he does, he seems to be under the impression that…"

"He needs a superhero, not me!" The shout caught her off guard. The pain was tangible, the self-hatred far too close to the surface. "Whatever he's looking for, whoever he is looking for, it's long gone."

"Tony-" She started, desperate to make him see reason.

"Don't." It was just one word, tired, aching, reminiscent that they had had that conversation far too many times.

"What do you want me to do? I can't just send him away!" She realized with a sinking feeling that was exactly what he intended for her to do.

"Tell him I'm busy, tell him I'm out saving the world-"

"Tell him you spend the majority of the time drunk and the rest of it shirking any and all responsibilities?" Her tone was waspish and hurt, her own troubles with the man rising to the surface, "Tell him that you spend all of your time locked in here? That you've closed out everyone that might care about you because-" She trailed off at the tears that threatened to fall.

He sighed and she could hear the tiredness, and it almost broke her. "Just get rid of him Pep."

She dropped the parachutist on his workbench, "Just get rid of that." She responded tartly.

"Pepper." She ignored him, "Pep, honey, wait… I didn't… we're, we're fine, this isn't… Pep."

She ducked her head, refusing to turn back to him, "No Tony, we aren't, but we haven't been. Not in a very long time."