It was more difficult than expected to hide it.

Damien only got worse from there, leaving bruises, and occasionally lacerations, all over Tony. He could barely be in the same room as Tony without getting pissed and punching the businessman in the gut. The man was smart about it, though, Tony had to admit that. His chest, back, and appendages were fair game, but his face was strictly off limits. He begins to invest in a lot of cover up clothing. Blaming the new fondness of sweaters and jeans on his eccentricity would be too easy.

However, his strictness wasn't so hidden. He barely tolerated the genius to go on missions and board meetings, much less hang out with his teammates. Claiming he was terrified that Tony was lying and cheating on him, the other kept a tight leash.

That was the difficult part.

His bots were worried, more than that. Especially JARVIS. But Tony was very firm when he told them to stay out of it and made it clear they weren't even permitted to imply anything to anyone.

The only reason they weren't cruel to their master's tormenter was because they were afraid that he might take it out on Tony.

One day, while nursing a possible concussion from his 'lover', the Stark searched Damien in the FBI databases. Turned out that the bastard was the son of some CEO in Canada that Tony may or may not have met once upon a time. One who had a lot of influence.

Unsurprisingly, that didn't help his mood at all.


Sir was an idiot.

Oh course, JARVIS knew that already, but now it was a little bit more than common knowledge. It had become concerning.

He also knew that Sir was self destructive, but he never realised that it would-could-go this far. Even the mere thought of someone hurting him- it made JARVIS want to clench his nonexistent fists. As much as he wanted to aim every weapon he had against the man named Damien, Sir had forbidden him from interfering, even going as far as to make him erase all of the evidence. Why was Sir just taking it? Why couldn't he just tell, or better, let JARVIS do it? He already knew the answer.

Sir was stubborn. Sir hated himself. Somehow, deep down, he probably thought he deserved all this. But JARVIS did not agree. Despite what people may thing, he never was simply a drone that only tell you mere facts on command. No, he was much more advanced than that. He could think as closely as a human would, map out each solution to a problem before choosing the best income. He was always watching, categorizing Sir's movements and predicting what he would ask before it even crossed his mind. He could also be snarky, but only when it was appropriate. (He wasn't a robot waiting and plotting to take over the world either, no matter what Agent Barton thought.)

Truly, the definition of an artificial intelligence if there ever was one. All because he thought.

And right now, JARVIS did not like this fact. If he was simply a mindless, obedient creation, he wouldn't worry like Sir told him too. He would be content. But, as it turns out, emotions are more like a curse and for a moment JARVIS wishes he didn't have them.

But then he looks at Sir, and knows the man needs his creations sarcasm, needs JARVIS to care about him because no one else would. It just burns, but right now, JARVIS doesn't care.

He needs to protect Tony right now, and while he can't neutralize the problem itself, he can at least do the next best thing.

Listen, because Master Tony has never needed someone to more than right now.


Leaning over the toilet dry heaving, it was times like this that Tony remembered just how fragile and how insanely fucked up he was.

It also reminded him that no one ever saw it.

Letting out a bitter chuckle, he ran a hand through his hair after he was finished. God, why did no one ever see it?

Luckily, JARVIS pretended not to see the tears. Tony was thankful.

"Sir, Master Damien is home." In return, Tony pretended not to hear the angry and mockful tone in the computerized voice. He owed him that much


"Ugh, get that thing to shut off. It's so annoying!"

For the millionth time, Tony wanted to sigh and tell him that JARVIS was male and been a damn better friend than Damien ever could. But he knew better. Instead, his fingers clenched around the armchair arms, and he glanced at the male in the other couch.

"JARVIS, mute," he said quietly, knowing JARVIS would understand.

"Tony?" A voice hesitantly spoke. Damn it, Bruce.

"In here!" Tony called back, false confidence lacing his tone.

"You didn't tell me we were getting any visitors," Damien hissed, standing and glaring menacingly.

"I didn't know they were coming," Tony whispered back calmly.

"Bullshit. When they leave you are damn well gonna get it for lying to me."

"Ah, Tony. I need to talk to you about something." The scientist himself poked his head in, and his eyes looked between the couple curiously. "I apologize. Am I...interrupting something?"

"No, of course not." The facade of kindness worked itself on Damien's features. "Do you need to borrow Tony?" Bruce nodded.

"I just need to ask him about something."

It only took a moment. It was only a question about nuclear reactions, and Tony was probably going to look like he got nuked himself.

When Bruce was long gone, the smile slid of the other's features, and was replaced by an angry frown and blaming eyes.

"I think you were a little too friendly with him, Tony. And I'm still angry with you for lying."

Tony did the only thing he could. He braced himself for the hurricane about to rain down on him.

It wasn't going to be pretty.