AN- I'm so sorry I took *awkwardly coughs* 3 months to update...hehe...oops?^^" I just want to say this has been written for, gods-know-how-long, and we lost our WiFi for a while and I guess I lost track of time with school and home life until I realized how long it's been. I do want to make it clear I am and will Not abandon this fic. Now enough excuses and apologize, on with this short af story.

Chapter 8 Finally a son to be proud of

Tony woke up on the plane from the loud screaming of Howard's expensive black phone.
Shifting in his seat on the plush couch, the seven year old lifted an eyelid to watch the bastard answer his phone. The small boy observed as Howard growled at his phone and could see him contemplating whether to throw it out the window or answer it; he choose the latter after long seconds of intense glaring.

"Stark" He half barked/half snarled but still somehow sounded professional.

"Yes, I know Thomas; we became business partners, last year in fact; so what is this about?" That perked Tony's attention but dread immediately twisted his gut once he saw the man's demented smile.

"Oh no. what happened to the suspect? That's horrible; I do hope they find them soon. My son is friends with their boy; in fact we are heading there today." And there was that famous Stark acting at its best. While he spoke, it seemed as though he was fighting a sudden deep depression as his eyes twinkled along with his teeth that showed through his feral grin.

The young boy's gut twisted almost impossibly more painfully as Howard's grin widen and twisted to something that you would see in nightmares. The boy almost puked what little he ate as he saw the abusive fucker eye him with his evil beady, brown eyes, as though, for the ever, he actually acknowledged him. There was no of his normal loathing and worthlessness attitude directed towards his biological son. It was as if he existed, as if Howard had a worthy son, and –if he had never met Mr. and Mrs. Wayne— would have mistaken that for being proud and even… love.

Now he was extremely terrified of what happen that would cause Howard to look like that.

"Really? We're invited to the reading on Friday? Yes, Anthony really was very close to the whole family; so it doesn't surprise me that he would've worm his way in their hearts. Oh, it's just going to break his little heart when I tell him they're dead." He emphasized in a way the operator wouldn't notice but his son could hear the mocking just dripping off of it.

"Yes, thank you. I hope to talk again on Friday. Goodbye."

Once he hung up the phone, a creepy, quiet, giddy giggle—yes, a fucking giggle—escaped the middle age jackass. He pranced over to his son, still giggling like a schoolgirl instead of the grown ass man he was. His old wrinkly hand cupped Tony's small chin as he rubbed his thumb in soothing circles, smearing the oncoming tears.

The seven-year-old hated himself for flinching to the touch, but that hatred only grew to loathing and humiliation as the touch-starved boy leaned into the soothing circles against his will.

"Oh, my little gold-digger. Since you became friends with that brat, his filthy rich-ass parents have apparently left you—and by extension myself—a bit of their things." His brown eyes twinkled with amusement as he watch Tony go through shock and self-loathing as he continues rubbing calming circles.

"You sure wormed your way into their heart like the pathetic parasite you are. Did you know that once, during a meeting, Thomas told me that I must be so proud to have you as a son. I would have straight out laughed in his smiling-fucking- face if I wasn't the amazingly, greatest actor I am. But, now… Oh, Tony, Tony, Tony. Now, I can't believe my worthless son had finally done something of my approval." Then he abruptly gave Tony the first kiss of his life on his forehead as jumped up like he wasn't the aging, broken man he was and let out a louder giggle.

"Oh, I cannot wait 'till the funeral. I hope he gives me part of the company." He sucked in a mocking gasp as he covered his smiling, gaping mouth with a hand. "What if that bastard gave me some of his gold, some of those ideas that everyone thinks to seem is so great." He walked out of the room rambling on about what he could have.

Tony could only sit there; tears of anger, humiliation, depression, guilt and a massive wave of other emotions that was just too much for a seven-year-old, that shouldn't even know what half of them should feel like.

He suppressed the screams of angst and sobs that were bubbling and boiling in his throat, threatening to escape out in small shaky breathing and small hiccups.

The only adults to ever care, to ever encourage, to ever even love him, was now dead. His only friend that ever gave him a chance and didn't betray his trust the first chance he got, was now an orphan.

He let out a humorless laugh slip his lips as the salty tears still ran down his red puffy cheeks.

That fucking stark luck.

AN-well I hope you liked it cuz the next one is right after this! Love you guys so much ^w^