A/N: Hey there, how ya doin'. This little thing is about 1k about Tony Stark's definition of family. I'm not entirely sure this fits into the oneshot series but it also doesn't not fit so here we are. As always, feedback is appreciated and if you wanna you can follow me on tumblr (josywbu) or just follow the irondad blog I run with my bestie (weartirondad). Much love x
Family's a funny little thing.
Even with all his cleverness and imagination and ingenuity… if he's being honest, it's one of the few things he's never been able to wrap his head around.
(That and pineapple on pizza and smelly chees but he has resigned to that always remaining a mystery to him)
No, but family?
He's not quite sure what that entails.
When he is 7, holding his swollen cheek and trying to blink past the blood that is dropping down from the cut on his eyebrow that's messing up his view and his lips are pressed into a thin line as to not make a sound, he thinks he gets it.
Family means an absent father with an alcohol problem, strong hands and poor impulse control and a mother too scared to stand up for her son or herself. It means either obeying to his creator's rules without questioning them or getting a black eye for his fractiousness.
Family is the hell he was born into. Cold and unwelcoming and nothing but pain. Family is an obligation and a burden and he's sure he could never fully grasp how anyone would go back there out of their own free will.
At the age of 14 he somehow stumbles into the Rhodes' family.
From the second Rhodey's dad greets him with a wide welcoming smile and a "how are you, son?", he realizes that this is vastly different to everything he has known before.
Rhodey's mum is sassy where his is submissive and where his dad is angry, Rhodey's is soft. Where his family is quiet, cold and rejecting, this one is loud, cheerful, warm and open. They welcome him with open arms and treat him like one of their own.
Rhodey's uncle becomes his uncle and his cousin enjoys having two boys to dress up and do her biding now.
It takes some time but after a while Tony learns that when the adults raise their hands at him it's usually to give him a high five rather than plant it in his face to leave their mark.
It's weird… that this seems to be normal, too, apparently. It's a stark difference to, well, the Stark Mansion with all its high walls, clean carpets and old vases. This family feels more like home than his own ever has so he starts dreaming about having one of his own one day - in secret and ashamed but silently hopeful.
He thinks he has a shot at that when he's 40, fosters a house full of superheroes - his team - and has an assistant-turned-CEO-turned-girlfriend by his side. He's happy but then again, there's always a nagging voice inside him telling him he's damaged and no one really wants damaged goods.
No matter what he does, it's never enough it's never what they deserve. It's like it used to be at home that wasn't a home. And so, inevitably they fight and they snap and they leave because, so far, no one has ever stayed.
He's 42 when he buries his hope to ever have something good of his own. Maybe it's just not meant to be. Maybe it's in his blood, his DNA coded in a way that leaves no room for supportive conversations and calm family dinners. Or in his brain that's always too busy inventing, battling his own demons and being scared to ever have someone willing to stick around and to care for him.
Somehow he's nearing 50 now, just half a year out, and he's on the lawn of one of his holiday houses in the Hamptons and his wedding band is glistening in the sun when he winds up to throw the baseball as far as he can.
His kid-but-not-really-but-in-every-way-that-counts laughs loudly when he chases after it and he watches, a wide smile on his face as his eyes follow the boy jogging across their makeshift field, unruly curls bouncing with every step, hanging into his eyes when he finally gets to the ball and he grins proudly when it disappears on their neighbor's property.
Tony is shaking his head in exasperation. "I'm not going to get that for you," he tells him in no uncertain terms, fondness giving away the lie in his words.
"Oh please, Mister Stark," the kid whines, bumping their shoulders together with a pout, "You know how scared I am of Miss Sunshine."
Before he has the chance to snark back, Pepper is calling for them.
His wife and May are standing on the patio, barefoot and with light bouncing of their hair. He can hear the sound of their laughter, it fills his soul up with a surge of warm contentment. His entire being is buzzing with the gentle energy they generate.
"I think Happy and Rhodey might be getting here for the barbecue," Peter tells him matter-of-factly and he's suddenly overcome with such a wave of fondness that he can't help but reach out to his kid to ruffle his hair and tuck him closer to his side.
It hits him then how Peter doesn't flinch away like he did the first time Rhodey's dad went in to hug him. No, Peter leans into the embrace without hesitation without even a hint of the fear Tony used to associate with his father's touch. His relaxed posture gives away his genuine trust and unconditional love as he's enjoying the contact, settling into the familiarity.
Familiarity.
Family.
This is his family.
Not the one he feared he would end up with, not the one Rhodey has had and not even the one he dreamed about having all those years ago but in the end none of that matters.
This is his version of family.
A little chaotic, a good chunk of patchwork with pieces from the most unexpected corners but inherently good and undoubtedly his.
So, yes, family's a funny little thing but he thinks he understands it a little better now.
