74 Hours. 74 hours since he had found out that he had a living breathing child, a son.
74 hours and his whole life was a fucking joke. A mistake of such epic proportions that he expected Thor to compose an ode to it as a cautionary tale told to frighten Asgardian children into eating their greens and abandoning world domination plans.
His past, his present, his future should have been different. He should have had his son by his side. Or at least had proper visitation rights!
Maya Hansen was a distant memory, or more truthfully someone he didn't remember at all. Not something he was proud of because he had to do some research to put a face to the name, and he had found her, a fierce eyed dark haired beautiful biologist with an air of competency which must have attracted him because that had been his beach blonde and busty period if he could remember through the alcoholic fog that had shrouded him then. Tony had always had a weakness for a competent human being, male or female. He had programmed his AI to be the ultimate in competent after all. That's why he had been so attracted to Pepper in the first place.

Obadiah Stane had better be burning in the depths of Hell for all of eternity, or Tony would find a way to make Hell itself suffer.
Perhaps Thor could put a word in with his relatives and fix that for him, but after seeing the expression on Point Break's gorgeous face at Pepper's revelations, Tony thought that might already be a work in progress. Thor was big into family, really big into family, adopted psychotic world crushing jealous father fixated brothers included.
Tony had never wanted children. He wasn't a good enough man to have children. He hadn't had the type of role model that he could even use as a template, let alone start from scratch. He would never be a good enough man to be a parent, to raise a child. Jarvis and the robots had been his only physical attempts at Procreation. A living, breathing, squalling, eating, dumping, peeing and sleeping Stark DNA filled baby had never been on the cards.

The media called him the eternal man child but Christ on a crutch, his son, his fucking son, his only living and breathing relative was being raised by a fucking assassin who may or may not believe that Tony was behind that douchebag Obadiah's attempt to make sure that the kid and his Mom were dead.
A human piece of shit who murdered for money. Just like Barton and Romanov. Because that's what they were. Make no mistake, even if he personally had no problem with what they were doing now, their past, their present and their future, they were paid assassins.
They were paid to kill people. Shit he knew he had been called the Merchant of Death so he had no really room to talk.
But this Johnny Cage, Scimitar? No way was he using Tony's son to balance the red in his fucking ledger.

74 hours, not including the time Pepper had instructed Jarvis to search and they still had no leads to go on. How the hell had they dropped off the face of the earth?
He was Antony Edward Stark, the richest man in the world with an IQ off the chart, a suit that had literally saved said world, with access to the kind of information Governments would sell their souls for, if they had any souls, and would willing kneel down before him and become his bitches for just a look inside his mind and they still had no leads to go on.

74 hours since he had found out, and 73 hours since he had locked himself in his lab, away from everyone who had tried to keep the knowledge of his own flesh and blood away from him.

He had not listened to Pepper try to justify her actions. God damn it, SHEILD, fucking Nick Fury and his fucking black suited black hearted stupid shadowy minions had known before he did. All because of his so called best friend and CEO. He should have fired her ass and dumped her in a third world country with no access to designer shoe shops.

He had however taken an hour to listen to Romanov, another traitorous needle stabbing fucking redhead, and her bird brain partner tell him that Scimitar had always, always got to his target, and that destroying lives was his speciality. The bastard son snatcher didn't need to kill to do it. He had creative, innovative and inventive ways to solve the problem of his targets once he had accepted them. Tony had sat with the rest of his team, Pepper and Rhodey offering commiserations, trying to comfort, until he had told them all to shut up whilst they had listened to Natasha speak without really saying anything.

Clint had whimpered unknowingly at one point, his face surprisingly pale but he had refused to elaborate when the whole room had stared at him, Thor had asked in his deep rumbling voice what ailed him, Steve had his "concerned Captain" face on and Rhodey had watched him in the same way he assessed supposed threats to National Security. Bruce had silently passed Clint a cup of herbal tea whilst Coulson had pressed a hand to his shoulder before backing off again.

Natasha was speaking like an automaton as if she was dredging up painful memories. Who the hell could cause the Black Widow and Hawkeye to falter when they were only discussing someone who supposedly hadn't been an active assassin for years?
Tony could feel the same panic building in his chest that he endured if he thought about the Cave and the Ten Rings, or the feeling of Obadiah's hand tugging at the arc reactor as he lay paralysed listening to the old Bastard laugh at his plight, or that insane and terrifying flight into the nothingness of space. He couldn't deal with that panic whilst he was surrounded by his team, his friends, they couldn't know his weakness. He had to get out of there, he had leave them right now or he was going to be a whimpering blubbering mess in a corner, and how could he face any of them then.

Damn Pepper and her bright ideas to bring this to an open forum before he had fully internally digested and dealt with this knowledge. He turned and forced himself to walk from the room, shrugging off Steve's hand on his shoulder and the oddly comforting "We'll find him Tony, I swear we'll find him", ignoring Pepper's pleas for him to listen to her, ignoring everything in his need to find solitude and nurse his wounds in private before he fell apart in public.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, his son, his child, had been at that man's mercy for seventeen years.
What the hell would he have done to him? Tales of the Red Room and Hydra's brain washing capabilities burned through his blood, his mind, sickened his soul until he couldn't sleep.
So he did what he did best when he couldn't drink the pain and confusion away, when he refused to allow himself the alcohol because he needed to be able to react as soon as he found out about his boy, he damn well worked like a mad bastard as he waited. The lab was in lock down, no-one was allowed near him, not Bruce, not Pepper, not Rhodey or Steve, he had made Jarvis booby trap the air ducts in case either of the Agent Assassins decided on that route. He revised and reset Jarvis's search parameters and he just worked in that damn lab. He didn't even resurface for coffee, allowing Dum-E to supply him with his less than toxic green liquid sludge, ignoring the slow burning need for alcohol to flood his system so that he didn't need to think anymore. He was a genius futurist but the images in his head of his son's life, that was even if his son was still alive, locked up his stuttering heart and panicking desperate mind like a vicious clam. He needed to know, this uncertainty was driving him insane.

So he worked, and he deafened himself with ever louder music until when silence fell, it hit the lab like a blow. He raised his head from his soldering iron but before he could challenge Jarvis, a familiar determined voice spoke.
"Tony we need to talk". Tony refused to look behind him, "Jarvis resume music, and I told you to keep the lab on lock down" he ordered coldly and the words to Institutionalized by Suicidal Tendencies blasted their way round the lab "They just keep bugging me, They just keep bugging me". Pepper lost her temper and swung the stubborn infuriating little shit round to face her. "Damn you Tony, you haven't been sleeping, you haven't been eating. Jarvis had no choice but to open the labs up if I initiate the "Tony is being a complete idiot with his health and needs to stop now" protocol.

Tony blinked those beautiful brown eyes at her, his rant derailed for the time being "There is no such protocol Pepper" he snorted with unwilling amusement "I beg to differ Sir, the protocol is based on the optimum time period before your behaviour causes damage to your physical structure and has been agreed between Ms Potts and myself" Jarvis even sounded smug the traitorous bastard.
"New AI, Irish, girly voice and obedient to my needs" Tony threatened him again but Jarvis just snorted at him. Jarvis snorted at him, seriously! "You are teaching my kid bad habits Pepper" Tony mocked and then just like that, the ice descended and he was remembering why he was angry with her, with all of them.

Before Pepper could smack the exasperating idiot into the wall with one of her shoes, they were interrupted.

"Sir I believe you need to take this call" Tony did not notice the odd intonation in Jarvis's normally unflappable voice. "For fuck sake Jay, I told you I wasn't to be disturbed" Tony's response was viper fast and just as vicious but he hadn't taken his eyes off Pepper's furious face.

A strange male voice echoed through the Jarvis's speakers "Anthony Edward Stark, born May 29th 1970 in Long Island New York."
"What, seriously what?" Tony spat "Who the hell are you, what are you doing on my private emergency line and why are you spouting information that is already in the public domain anyway? Jarvis cut this joker off"

The implacable calm voice continued "Perhaps this will make you want to chat. You told my wife after you had sex with her that your favourite flower is the freesia because your Mother loved them so."
Pepper stared at Tony wide eyed as he frowned with concentration and then dawning comprehension but he answered smoothly, refusing to acknowledge the sudden tremor in his hands or the burning nervous apprehension and excitement in his gut. Pepper picked up her smartphone and began texting furiously.

"Look if this is some revenge kick then just deal with it Dude, I don't make a habit of seducing housewives but what can I say I flirt, it's like breathing, no offence intended"
Tony knew Jarvis would be recording this conversation, he was trying to drag it out so that Jarvis would have time to trace the call as per standard protocol on his private line. The smirk on Tony's face was smugly satisfied but his eyes showed how quickly his brain was running through scenarios, possibilities and action plans for the insane hypothesis.

"Don't worry Mr Stark, you slept with my wife before she became my wife so I can't blame you for your excellent taste. I am sure that Maya was the most tempting thing at that Science Convention in Bern in 1994." Conclusion proved. Jesus Christ it was him, it had to be him. How the hell?
For a few seconds there was silence again, but before Tony or Pepper could speak the voice continued, amusement audible at the start but then the tone of the words became ominous.

"You don't need to have your minions trace the call Mr Stark, I know you have been trying to find me. My name is Sheriff John Stilinski and we need to talk about my…our son."

AN:

I know you hate me, seriously it wasn't supposed to end that way but what the Sheriff wants the Sheriff gets and he wanted this! """Runs away cackling gleefully""" (have started the next chapter but it may not be the first meeting because there is a certain selfish best friend who is going to learn his lesson first... I did mention the cackling didn't I?) Hugs xxx

P.S. Thank you for all your reviews, haven't had a chance to respond yet but I do so love reading them

16/6 - Sorry just realised that I messed up my timelines. Maya and Tony met in 94 not 97, otherwise she wouldn't have been pregnant in 95 when Stane sent Scimitar after her.. oops all sorted...