Whaddup guys! Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows as usual. Your glowing reviews made me blush *aw*
Warning for angst and fluff and basically everything. Hardy har.
Steve: *singing* Silent night, holy night ~
Tony: shut up, Steve. I hate Christmas.
Steve: *gasp* how could you not? It's Christmas.
Tony: none of your business.
As usual, I own none of the Avengers. I do, however, own an Iron Man's mask that I keep on my bedside. Hah.
Chapter 17- Christmas
December rolled in, along with cold weather and snow to match. Students of SHIELD Prep were already counting the days before the winter break. But as of right now, they still stuck in school for another week.
Steve was in his AP Arts, trying to pay attention to Miss Storm while he was tempted to glance out the window. The snow was falling slowly and what he wouldn't give to run out and make some snow angels. He sighed. Snow angels could wait. He needed to pay attention to the class first. Straightening his spine, he stared ahead toward the figure of Miss Storm, who was explaining something to the class.
Miss Susan 'Sue' Storm, a woman in her mid-twenties, was an interesting teacher. And by 'interesting', it also meant attractive. She had long blond hair, bright blue eyes and curves in right places. Half of the boys even swore that her smile could light up the dark side of the moon. She had an on-off romance with Reed Richards, one of the researchers at Stark Industries who had a grudging friendship with Tony (long story.) Right now, they were on. Her brother, the smoldering hot new-teen actor Johnny Storm was a recurring presence in SHIELD Prep.
"I know you will hate me for this, but I have an assignment for you to work on during the break," she said, clasping her hands. She smiled kindly, indicating that the assignment won't be downright boring. "So, to celebrate this gorgeous wintry season, I want you to take some photos. The subjects can be anything, as long as it is winter-themed. And then put the photos in a scrapbook."
A student raised her hand. "How many pages the scrapbook must be?"
"Minimum pages are eight," Miss Storm answered. "The sky is the limit. Paste one photo on every page. Write a short caption under the photo –or a short story/poem, whichever you prefer."
"A short story or poem about what exactly?"
Miss Storm shrugged. "It can be about anything. It can be what you feel about the photo," she gesticulated with her hands, "or what you think about it. It can be about anything. Art is not just paint and brush, you know."
Steve smiled as he wrote down the assignment in his notebook. The assignment wasn't so bad. He could get acquainted with his camera again. He was sure his friends wouldn't mind if he asked their help for this assignment. Who would reject a photography session?
"You will graded for this assignment," Miss Storm informed. "I'll look forward to grade them in the first week after you come back to school."
The students groaned. Apparently they were thinking to stretch the due date. Everyone was too lazy to do the assignment during the holiday and hand in right after they got back to school.
"One more thing- Rogers, St. John, Danvers and Lewis, please wait for a moment," Miss Storm said as the bell rang. "I need to speak to you guys about something."
The students started packing their bags and filed out of the classroom. Steve and Darcy however, with the other two students went to the teacher's table. As they gathered around the table, Miss Storm stood behind her chair, adopting a serious gesture.
"As you know, on February every year, SHIELD Prep will hold a charity event," she started. "The donors, parents, and famous people –you get the idea- will attend. As for me, my job for the Art Dept. is to find some artworks that is good enough to be auctioned. The problem is –"
"There is not enough artwork," Darcy finished, grinning wolfishly.
Miss Storm nodded, smiling. "Right, and since the four of you always exceeded in my class, I want you to prepare a couple of artworks. Painting, sculpture or anything you are comfortable with. I will give you extra credit for this."
"Nice," St. John grinned.
"Hmm, that's all," Miss Storm concluded. "Just do what you can. I don't want to burden you guys too much."
They murmured okay in unison and excused themselves to their next class. Darcy lagged behind and walked along with Steve. She nudged his rib lightly. Steve recoiled, ticklish.
"Extra assignment, huh?"
Steve shook his head amusedly. "You're not complaining."
"Why should I?" Darcy huffed. "I love arts. At least there's somewhere safe I can lash out all the rage inside of me." She made a comically outraged face that reminded Steve of Bowser. "What's your next class?"
He shrugged. "American History. You?"
"I've got to meet Mr. Coulson," she told him. "I still lack the credits to graduate for community service."
"Oh, they're fun," Steve widened his eyes.
"Only you, Steve Rogers, would find the joy in teaching a class of five-year old brats 'fun'," Darcy rolled her eyes. "What did you done for community service?"
Steve bit his cheek. "Um, I volunteered for a story-time program at a kindergarten for a month and visited a children's hospital."
"I thought we only need to do one task only?" Darcy scrunched her eyebrows.
"Yep," Steve replied. "But I kind of did extra task."
Darcy sighed. "Of course you did." She glanced at her watch, "Nice chat but GTG. See you at lunch."
"Yeah. See you later."
Darcy turned to another corridor and made her way to Mr. Coulson's office. Her platform boots made no noise as she entered Mr. Coulson's office. The middle-aged man was looking through some documents on his table.
He didn't even look up when Darcy entered. "I told you numerous times to knock before you enter, Lewis."
"Bad habit, sorry," Darcy nonchalantly apologized. She took a seat on the plushy cushion. "So, what is it you've been dying to tell me?"
"Since you haven't chosen a task for the community service, I am giving you a choice," Mr. Coulson spoke up.
Darcy raised a perfectly curved eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're sending me to humor senile grandparents."
"No, Lewis," Mr. Coulson shook his head at her poor attempt of humor, "though it would amuse me to do so. Do you know Loki?"
"Thor's lil' bro? Sure."
He cringed at her use of language. "He needs help. I…can't really explain it. You read the file."
Mr. Coulson handed her a file –brown colored, typical P&C material. She took it from his hand and opened the file.
Oh the regular bio shit, Darcy thought as she read his bio. Her eyes went straight to the details Mr. Coulson's had written down:
Adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Odinson since he was a baby. Didn't know about it until he was sixteen from a misplaced document. From his usual petty prank, he has escalated to serious vandalism.
He tolerates his foster-brother to a point. Student does not appreciate being over-shadowed by his foster-brother.
Further meetings uncovered that the student has indulged himself with self-harm. Observation depicted he is suffering from depression and bipolar disorder (?). Student confessed he is involved with substance abuse.
He also found out his biological father - a man he doesn't want to have anything with.
Conclusion: Student is scared to get close to people and make friends because the people he has regarded as 'family' kept a big secret from him. Negligence from a father-figure also the cause of his low self-esteem and dislike for authorities. He has no one to talk to (or so he thinks) and constantly feels isolated by society. He has trust issues.
"He is a nutcase," Darcy made her own conclusion. "What you want me to do about him? Call the social service?"
Mr. Coulson shook his head. "No. And I want you to deal with him."
"As in?"
"Befriend him. Give him support."
Darcy let out a sarcastic snort. "You're the one with Psychology PhD, Mr. Coulson, whilst I am just a teenage girl without even a diploma."
"He is distant with me. You read it, he has issues with authorities. You, on the other hand –"
"A harmless girl, who is practically ordered around by authorities," Darcy rolled her eyes.
Mr. Coulson sighed. "Please Lewis. I need to help this kid. No one should suffer. He is too young to be this sad. You're capable."
Mr. Coulson's eyes fell on one of a photograph on his table. Him, on his younger days –probably twelve years old with his arm around a younger boy. His friend probably, for they held no similar features. Darcy followed his gaze. There was an untold story behind the photograph. But Darcy understood.
A friend Mr. Coulson had failed to save.
Loki could be his second chance. Loki still could be saved. That was why he tried so hard to help him.
"I will try," Darcy cleared her throat. "But what should I tell him?"
"The truth –I sent you," Mr. Coulson smiled. "He has trust issues. Better come clean."
Darcy wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her skirt. "But you do understand that there's a limit for what I could do, right? A person like him, he won't let me in to his life easily."
"Noted."
With that, Darcy picked up her tote bag and left.
x
Sure, she had her fair share of crushes in high school. And Darcy would admit it, Loki was one of them. He might be a year younger, but he was so mature and wise in his posture that she felt (almost) no shame for harboring a crush on Thor's little brother. She had been attracted him the second she saw him, lurking behind other freshmen during her sophomore year. Darcy was instantly attracted to those sharp cheekbones and pale skin with bright emerald eyes that contrasted it. He had the voice that was made for reciting Shakespeare's literature (she'd heard him reciting Hamlet once.) Loki was tall, and carried himself with such regal and mystery air around him. Not to mention, he was kind of a bad-boy.
Definitely her type -no doubt about it.
Conclusion, she was attracted to him purely by appearance.
But to know his back story, it made her feel slightly guilty. She felt like one of those shallow girls who doomed less-cool kids based for what they do, how they looked. She'd taken interest to Loki just because how he looked, physically. She didn't care what inner turmoil and crisis he had.
So shallow.
And selfish.
Sighing, she made her way to the courtyard. Despite the cold weather and snow, the gang still chose to hang out at courtyard. Pepper always brought a large picnic blanket for them to sit on. Ah, she might talk to Loki tomorrow, or next week, or after winter break or –
Now.
Loki's tall figure passed her. She used two seconds of her time to think whether or not she should turn around right then and talk to Loki. She decided she should. Inhaling a breath, she turned around and quickened her pace to match Loki.
"Hi," she said breathlessly.
Loki stopped on his tracks, irritated. "What do you want Lewis?"
"Um," her cheeks reddened. "I'll just cut to the chase then. Mr. Coulson told me to …to…"
"Oh, you have a community service program to complete and I am the perfect specimen for you to complete your task," Loki said harshly.
Darcy started to feel mad. But then she remembered that Loki was as stubborn as hell with a trust issues to rival the President. "Look, I just want to help…"
"I don't need help."
"The information in your files begs to differ," she shot back.
Loki's eyes turn darker and he pulled her arm so they stood away from other students. "What did you read from my file?"
She was nervous under his glare. "Just the basic stuff. Depressive, all that jazz."
"Just turn away, Lewis. You can't help me," Loki gritted his teeth. "You need the credits to graduate. Just tell Mr. Coulson the hours you spend with me, I'll conform it. Done. We don't need any more intervention."
It will be easier that way, she thought.
But she remembered the look Mr. Coulson had in his eyes when he looked at the photograph in his office.
A friend he had failed to save.
She could save Loki. She wanted to.
Darcy wasn't going to back down.
"I know you have hard time trusting people," she said softly, letting her anger dissipate. Rash words would not help, she decided. "You need someone to talk to, I understand that. You don't even have to trust me. We will…just talk. And you have my word that what we talked about stays between you, me and Mr. Coulson to an extent."
His glare softened. He searched her eyes, looking for flecks of insincerity and lies. He found none. "I am not easy to deal with."
"I am up for a challenge," she replied, mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'll help in any way I can."
Loki stood there, scrutinizing her. She sighed.
"After school –we'll meet at Andrew's Coffee Shop," she decided. "Meet me there. I'll wait until five. But if you doesn't show up until then, I'll take the point –I'm not wanted. You don't want my help. We'll do as you suggested. But I tell you, I hated cheating."
Loki set his jaws and nodded.
Darcy exhaled as Loki left. There, first mission accomplished. In came second crisis –meeting Loki. Would he meet her there?
She waved a hand and breathed. Guess she'll just wait and see.
x
"Ah."
Pepper sighed as she drank her hot coffee. The gang was sitting on the extra-large blanket she had provided. Tony had decided to be childish and made a snow angel next to their spot. Not soon after, Clint and Rhodey joined in. Steve was holding his camera, taking photos every now and then with a serene smile on his face.
"I love winter," Natasha said.
"You're Russian," Tony spoke up from his snow angel spot. "Of course you love cold weather."
Natasha threw a snowball at him. "Shut up, you."
"You're going back to Russia for Christmas?" Pepper asked, nudging Natasha's leg suddenly.
"Well, yeah," she nodded. "You?"
Pepper shook her head. "I'm staying in New York."
"To keep me company," Tony interjected, giving her a snowy kiss on the cheek.
Darcy joined them, sitting down next to Steve. "Oh hey guys. You already started on the assignment, Steve?"
"Ha, yeah," Steve smiled. He gestured to his friends with his chin, "Found my muse in them."
"Anyone staying here for Christmas?" Tony asked suddenly. "Raise your hands."
Pepper, Bruce, Darcy and Jane raised their hands.
"The rest of you?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Brooklyn," Steve answered. "Won't be home for two-three weeks."
"Malibu," Rhodey said.
Thor sighed. "England. I do not see why it is such a big deal. It's not like my grandparents are still alive."
"I am going back to Iowa," Clint spoke up. "My grandparents want to celebrate their Christmas with their old neighbors and friends."
Tony stayed silent for a moment. After doing some mental calculation, he said, "Why don't we have a get together before everyone left for holiday? We could have it this Saturday," he mused. "Plus, it's Bruce's birthday!"
Bruce chuckled shyly. "It's just a birthday."
"Eighteenth birthday, I might add," Tony nodded smugly. "So, this Saturday? Bring along your Christmas presents."
"We should do a lucky draw," Pepper suggested. "That way we can save some money. I mean, there are twelve of us –plus Peggy and Betty- and we'd be broke before we could buy each and every one of us a present."
Clint brightly agreed. "So, this Saturday, each of us needs to bring two presents –one for Bruce and one for the person they had draw out."
"Nice deduction Sherlock," Tony sneered.
"Elementary, my dear Watson," Clint replied back.
X
After school, Darcy took her time to Andrew's Coffee Shop. She doubted Loki would want to meet her, but hey, she would take her chances. Maybe he will change his mind.
Five minutes to five, her faith had turned to vapor. Loki was as stubborn as a pig -that was it. She had given him the benefit of the doubt and he made her spine tense. She started to fix her snowcap and blazer and in the midst of packing her bag when Loki's lanky figure stood in front of her.
"Sorry I made you wait," he apologized. "I had…doubts."
Of course he had.
She sat back down (not smiling, she was furious he made her wait for almost two hours.)
"Why do you take this task?" he asked carefully, fishing her reaction. His fingers reaching for the unfinished breadsticks she'd ordered earlier.
"Obviously, I need the credits to graduate."
Loki smiled half-heartedly. "The subtle reasons then?"
"I want to help you," she answered sincerely. "No one deserves to be hurt the way you are. You are too young to be sad."
His face fell. "I already told you I am not easy to be deal with."
"You see, that is what drives us apart –my optimism and your realism. Ooh, I can imagine we're snapping each other's neck now," Darcy tried to joke. "No one is easy to deal with. But I'll try my best to help you, makes the unbearable a little bearable."
"Your level of optimism astounded me. It almost collided with the fine line between optimism and stupidity."
"Ah, many mistakes stupidity and bravery too often, young warlock," Darcy mimicked the voice of The Great Dragon. "Your level of realism also can be mistaken for pessimism, or is it the same?"
Loki smiled at her attempt using British accent. "You tell me, you seem like you have all the answer."
"All in due time, Loki," she playfully winked. "Any plans for Christmas?"
"I'm staying in New York."
"I thought Thor said you guys are going back to England."
Loki fingered the lips of his mug. "He and my foster parents are. I made myself clear that I want to have nothing to do with them."
"You don't want to have anything to do with your foster family," Darcy said, "and you said the same about your biological father. And you complain about being alone?"
Loki leaned forward. "What do you know about my biological father?"
"Nothing," Darcy answered truthfully. "I just know that you want to steer clear of the guy."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Loki leaned back. "My biological father…he is not a man to be associated with. He is a dangerous man, from I've been told."
"You never met him?"
"I don't know a thing about him until a few weeks ago."
Darcy raised an eyebrow. "And you believe it when the people you don't trust anymore said your biological father is a dangerous man?"
"There is proof of his…dangerousness. Not only by words -permanent, physical proofs," Loki explained. "And I do not complain of being alone. Alone is all I have. I like being alone."
"Or at least," Darcy waved her breadstick, "you convince yourself that you're better that way."
"Why would you say so?"
Darcy pointed her breadstick toward Loki. "You are a person with trust issues. You used to trust the people you once called 'family' and they kept a humongous secret from you. It left a scar, and quite permanent one –cause they're family. Deep down you're afraid. You are afraid to make friends because you have doubts. You doubts if they can be trusted. If your 'family' can betray you, why can't a friend do the same?" she smirked. "Am I right?"
"Quite."
Darcy huffed. "Quite? You're just too arrogant to admit that I made the perfect conclusion."
Loki stifled back a smile. It was refreshing to talk to Darcy. She was daring, pushing him, dancing around the edge of his dark side, unlike Mr. Coulson who was too careful and treated him like he was a fragile China that could break if he wasn't careful. Loki won't break, for God's sake. How can you break someone who was already broken?
"Loki, you're not alone," Darcy said softly. "You're not the only who is hurting. But I won't tell you that other person have it worse, 'cause it won't change the fact that you're hurting. What you can do is try to live in the moment instead of wallowing in the past."
"Talk is cheap."
Darcy bit her lip, like she was considering something. Then she rolled her sleeve, revealing pale scars on her arm. "I used to…cut myself too," she confessed shyly, avoiding his eyes. "I was thirteen. For a year my parents would fought, every single night before they settled for a divorce. I felt terrible. Their fighting, divorcement, it made me feel…strange. Every day I heard my friends say how well their parents are getting. And mine was separated. That was when I started to self-harm."
"It's not your fault they divorced."
"It felt like it," she half-whispered. "The whole thing –depressed, self-harm it didn't stop until freshman year. I cut too deep and lost too much blood. My mom rushed me to the ER. My grandma from New Mexico flew to New York and helps me recover. She convinced me to seek help. I was reluctant at first, snapped at the volunteer and almost threw a plastic chair at her too." She let out a small laugh, "But then I met Jane, you know -Thor's girlfriend. She lost her parents when she was six and since then she lives with Mr. Selvig –the astronomy teacher. Jane's parents and Mr. Selvig went way back."
Darcy exhaled. "Jane was my mentor. She told me how kids used to tease her for not having a normal family. When she grew up, the teasing turned to sympathy –the kids started to understand why she didn't have a normal family. She was in 6th or 7th grade when kids started to tease her back, for having a weirdo astrophysicist guardian. It wasn't even her fault. She didn't even choose Mr. Selvig as her guardian. Which made her ran away from home. "
"What happened?"
"Police found her. A woman cop asked her why she ran away and when she told her reason, the cop just laughed and said, 'Girl, it doesn't matter what people say. They would always find the errors in you. What matters is you are happy with the way things are.' So she went back to Mr. Selvig, because really, she loved him like her own dad." Darcy laced her fingers, looking at Loki with earnest eyes, "She made me promise to stop cutting," Darcy tugged at her other sleeve, showing a bracelet with colorful beads, "she gave me a bead every time I stayed clean for a month. I have almost three years worth of beads."
Loki scrunched his eyebrows. "You never tempted to cut again?"
"Sure, there are days I feel worse, especially after I went to visit my dad and his new family, but I took out my anger somewhere else," she smiled. "I know why you cut. Sometimes you just feel dead and when you cut, seeing the scarlet line and feeling the pain –it made you feel alive, the pain reminded you that you are very much alive."
He nodded in shame.
"You see my friends –your foster brother, Stark, Rogers, and Barton. People thought they had it easy, just because they rich and smart and handsome. But really, it is far from that. Stark's dad ignores him every now and then. His old man didn't even greet him when Stark was found after he went missing. Rogers' dad used to have PTSD after he came home from Afghanistan. He went home drunk and ignored his family. Barton's parents died when he was five and he had lived a not-so-easy life with his grandparents."
"But they seemed normal."
Darcy chuckled. "That's the keyword –seemed. Yeah, they are kind of taken aback of those things but they moved on. Nobody has normal apple-pie lives; they just hid the rotten part better than most of us do. Life sucks sometimes, and terrible things happened. Things never seem to get better, but eventually it will."
Loki stared into her eyes, astounded by the amount of wisdom and marred past she'd kept all this time. It was well behind her happy-go-lucky and quirky self. She was an optimist, always trying to look into the bright side. She saw a half-full glass.
He saw a glass half-empty.
"Like you said," Darcy leaned toward him, "talk is cheap. I could be wasting my time and you would be wasting yours. All of this meant nothing if you still want to keep re-reading the last chapter, instead of moving on to the next. I can tell a thousand of steps how to be happy, but the change in perspective starts with you."
He considered that. She was right. This meeting and the next (if there was), meant nothing if he still wanted to stay back and wallowed on the things that wasn't his fault. It would only wasting some precious, precious time if he still wanted to re-read the last chapter, instead of moving on.
He wanted to change. He saw promises of colors in Darcy that had quickly seeped through his gray perspective.
"I will be there for our next meeting," he informed, rather imperiously.
x
Tony hated winter break.
First, it means Christmas. Second, most of his friends would leave New York to spend their holiday somewhere else. Third, his father as busy as ever, like Christmas was an event that he couldn't give a damn about.
Honestly, winter break (and Christmas) actually means he would be left alone while everyone else was having fun. Presents meant nothing (he could've buy those thing himself), not when his companies were a rack full of alcohol, video games and Jarvis.
And God, why does SHIELD Prep always give their students and staffs a long winter break?
On Saturday, with a heavy heart he walked to the coffee shop near Stark Tower. His hand carried the paper bag that contained the presents he supposed to give –one for Bruce, and one for Peggy (the name he'd picked out.)
His friend were already there, he could hear their chattering as he entered. With his usual cocky smile plastered on his face, he walked over to their table.
"As usual, you're fashionably late," Clint muttered. He waved a French fries at Tony lazily.
Tony smirked. "Please note there is the word 'fashionable' in the sentence."
He took a place beside Pepper, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Everyone was enjoying their warm drinks and fresh pastries. He grabbed a croissant, eyes wandered to each of his friends.
"Where's Natasha?" he asked, noticing the absence of the petite redheaded Russian.
"She said she have to pick something up, she'll be here in five," Clint shrugged.
Tony continued to indulge himself with the fresh pastries, until exactly five minutes later, the shop's bell chime and the familiar figure of Natasha walked in. She carried a regular-sized box in her hands, while shouldering a tote bag.
"Hello," she greeted, putting down the box on the table, right in front of Bruce. "Happy birthday, Bruce. I've gotten you a cake."
Bruce chuckled shyly. "Thanks Natasha."
She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "And I've got you a birthday present too," she reached for a well-wrapped thin box from her tote bag, "open it up."
He nervously took the thin box from Natasha. His fingers carefully tore open the wrapper. When the wrapper came off, he opened the thin box. There, in the box, lie a perfectly folded tuxedo.
"Wow," he breathed. "Thanks again."
"I've got your measurement from Clint," Natasha sat down, nudging her boyfriend. "Since his brother's and your size are the same, only you are thinner."
Betty took out the birthday cake from its box. It was a chocolate cake. In purple frosting, there was Congrats! You're now 18th years young. We love you, xoxo written on the cake's surface. Tony lighted up the candles with the lighter he had in his jeans.
"Come on," Tony stood up. "Sing!"
"Tony, stop. It's embarrassing," Bruce flushed.
But Tony only sang louder. "Happy birthday to you..."
And what embarrassed Bruce even more, his other friends, who often argued Tony's idea, simply stood up and sang with Tony. The other customers inside the coffee shop were staring, and some of them even singing and clapping.
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to Bruce,
Happy birthday to you!
Rhodey clapped Bruce on the back and laughed. And while he appreciated the singing, Bruce can't help it but feel slightly humiliated. In a good way. Bruce made a wish, before blowing out the candles.
Peggy helped cutting the cake and gave everyone a slice. Except Jane, who shared slice with Thor (seriously, these two were getting sickeningly sweet.) The shop manager came to their table shortly after, offering them free beverages and freshly baked chocolate chip cookie, since they were his regular customer and celebrating birthday.
The cake was finished in record time, and they started to exchange presents. They gave Bruce his birthday present first before one-by-one, starting with Tony (because he sat at the end of the table) giving the present to the person they had picked out by lucky draw.
"I've got Peggy," Tony announced. He then mimicked a British accent –surprisingly well at that, "Lady Carter, I humbly present you my Christmas gift."
Which was, a Chanel diamond-encrusted red lipstick after the small box was uncovered. Fitting for Peggy's love for classic things.
"Good Lord, this must cost a fortune," Peggy exclaimed.
Tony grinned smugly. "For you. It was a snap of a finger for me."
Pepper rolled her eyes. So much for being humble. They continued giving present until Tony was the only who hadn't got his present and Steve was the last person in turn. Steve nervously passed a rather large-sized rectangular box toward Rhodey to be passed to its intended receiver.
Tony took the box from Rhodey's hand. Every eyes were on him. Except for Pepper, Rhodey and Natasha, there rest of them rarely got him a present, either for birthday or Christmas. Because they didn't know what will please him when he could've buy everything he wanted.
Tony tore open the wrapper and revealed a painting. He knew, for a fact that Steve had an artistic skill, he was never aware how good Steve was in his art. It was precisely painted. There was a photograph taped on the bottom of the painting, seemingly the whole inspiration. It was the twelve of them, at Natasha's house, before going to Homecoming Dance.
And this was another reason why Tony hated Christmas. Presents.
He didn't really care if his friends didn't get him any present. He understood, they weren't as stinking rich as him and he could have buy the thing they wanted to give by himself. The presents he often receive were engineering books (from his father's business partner –namely Obadiah) and anything that fit a corporate life.
But the present he had in his hands, was something different. It wasn't bought, it was made. Inspired by an event that happened a little while ago. A memory.
He might be rich he, but he can't buy memories.
"Um, thanks Steve-o," Tony cleared his throat, "I will put this in my lab! Yeah!"
Most people would think it was a humiliation to hung the painting in the lab/ workshop. And no matter how Tony tried to shrug it off, make it look like a joke, his friends knew he meant it when he said he will hang it in the lab.
It wasn't an act of humiliation to have the painting in the lab.
That was where Tony spend his time the most. He rarely sleeps, and even if he does, most of the time he fell asleep in the lab (which was exactly the purpose the cars in the lab.) There was a reason why he wanted to hang the painting in the lab.
So he could look at it, as much as he wanted to.
And his friends knew it.
x
After the celebration at the coffee shop, the gang had a snowball fight in the Central Park. It lasted for a while, before most of them had to go, to pack their stuff for the holiday. Steve and Peggy took a walk around the city after the gang dispersed.
They walked aimlessly around, chatting about their plans. Steve had given Peggy a set of pastel colors as a Christmas present and she in return gave him a peck on the cheek with a silent 'sorry' because she didn't know what to give him for Christmas.
Steve brushed that off, saying it was okay (really it was.) They had a couple of pretzels and hot coffees as initiative to continue walking. Peggy made a stop at a small store that sell winter apparel. She gestures Steve to follow her so he did.
At the section that held hand-knit scarves, she stopped. Her fingers trailed over the scarves with various colors and designs.
"Since I haven't given you anything for Christmas," she said, picking a white scarf with small red stars on it. "I want to give you something practical for this cold weather." She gestured to his neck, barely covered by the collar of his thick sweater.
Steve rolled his eyes. "You don't have to get me anything."
"I insist," she replied, tying the white scarf around Steve's neck before taking it off. "Not your color."
Steve stifled a laugh, watching her choose another scarf. Peggy then picked a scarf with red, white and blue stripes. Very America.
"You are making fun of me," he complained as she tied the scarf around his neck.
"No," she denied. "I am giving you a sense of your nickname. Captain America. This is definitely your color," she commented. "Come on, I'll pay."
After she paid the price for the scarf, they went out of the shop. Again, walking aimlessly until their feet brought them back to Central Park. Steve grinned, amused. As if there was no other place. But they kept on strolling. Steve somehow found the courage the hold Peggy's hand. She didn't pull out her hand, instead held his hand tighter. The friction against their palms ignited a warm and comfortable feeling.
"So when you're going back to England?" He asked, trying to start a conversation.
"Tomorrow," she answered, "with my mother. My father will follow shortly before Christmas. He has a lot of work to settle."
Steve nodded thoughtfully. "When you will be back?"
"A week before school start," she shrugged. "What about you?"
"Nothing special, just going to celebrate in Brooklyn," he replied. "My friend, Bucky will be home for the holiday. I thought I could introduce you two."
Peggy pursed her lips. "I'm afraid I couldn't."
"Yeah, figured that," Steve chuckled. He glanced at his watch. It was almost six. "I've got to go. I promised to pick my mom from her workplace and do some shopping for the groceries. I hope to see you soon."
"Don't worry, I'll text you often. Most of my cousins are boring anyway."
Steve was reluctant to turn. "I'm going to miss you a lot."
He gave her a small wave and a half-sad smile as he turned. Then he felt a tug on his scarf.
"Let me fix your scarf," she said softly, "it's crooked."
Steve watched as her fingers deftly tied up his scarf. A couple of seconds later, his new scarf sat perfectly around his neck. Her fingers still lingered around his collar. Their breaths were mushrooming in front of their faces.
"I will miss you too," she said finally.
He smiled. Her lips were just inches apart from him. He closed the distance between their lips with a kiss. She tasted like coffee and chocolate. Her lips were soft and sweet. He pulled her closer and inhaled her familiar old-books and ink smell. Steve swore it was her smell, specifically hers. Her hand was rested on his neck and he feel nervous tingle where she had touched him.
They only pulled back when it felt hard to breathe. Peggy smiled at him, eyes shining brightly. He smiled back, fingers playing with the hair that fell on her forehead.
"I will definitely miss you," she whispered.
"Me too," he confessed, "terribly."
She pressed another kiss on his cheek that was close to his lips. "I hope to see you soon, Steve."
And then she walked away, waving lightly. He watched as her figure lost in the crowd.
Gingerly, he raised his fingers to his lips.
The kiss was overwhelming. He still felt the tingles on his nerve. Or maybe he was just biased because it was his first kiss.
However, it was definitely better than the scarf.
Oh, he can't wait for winter break to end.
X
On 25th December, came the yearly event for Tony Stark.
No, it wasn't Christmas. It was called 'let's feel sorry for my and get drunk'
The event was simple. Tony would wake up in the morning, in his cotton pajama pants and bands t-shirt looking out of the window. He would stare the population of New York's citizens that had slightly decreased, because most of them were celebrating Christmas with their family. He won't turn on the stereo and TV, because all they ever played was Christmas special. He would stay beside the window, quiet. Because he had turned Jarvis off the night before. He always did, because the first thing Jarvis said on 25th December was 'Happy Christmas'.
There was nothing 'happy' about Christmas -at least not for Tony.
Expensively wrapped present sat near the door of his penthouse, from his father's colleague and the legion of girls, usually. His father often left nothing behind, except an extra allowance to spend on. The presents would stay there until he was drunk enough to open and critique them. And then he would sit on the couch, with a photograph album in his hand, looking at some old pictures.
The same thing happened for this year's Christmas.
See, Tony used to love Christmas. He used to go out and buy a gigantic Christmas tree and decorated it lavishly. He used to wake up in excitement on Christmas mornings, having a cup of hot chocolate first thing in the morning instead of reaching the alcohol cabinet. Tony didn't mind the season's specials that ran on the television. He opened his presents, also with uncontainable excitement instead of loathing them. He wished people 'Happy Christmas' because he hoped they had a good one like his was.
All of that was when his mother was alive.
Maria always went out of her way to make sure Tony enjoyed his Christmas. Since she was gone, not even Howard cared to put up a Christmas tree inside their respective residence.
Usually, the drinking started after he looked through the album, feeling sorry for himself. The memories with his mom will rapidly, harshly crashing into his mind, sending him shaking with tears. And the realization that he was all alone, all by himself to celebrate Christmas felt like frostbite to his heart.
And usually, he was drunk before the clock hit 12.00 P.M.
This time however, he crept to Howard's residence –a floor above his own, with the photo album under his arm and a bottle of whiskey. He sat on the leather couch in the empty residence. Howard was never home on Christmas, always had a business to attend to. This time was no different. He crossed his legs, and riffled through the photo album again, sipping from the whiskey bottle every now and then.
Tony didn't even bother to turn on the light when it got dark.
When Howard got home at 8.45 P.M he taken aback by the figure of his son, sitting on the leather couch, drunk and staring emptily into space.
"God, Tony," he almost shouted, flipping on the switch. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"
Tony shook his wrist. "Do you ever miss her?"
Howard raised an eyebrow. Her? Maria. "Of course I do."
"Do you ever love me?" Tony leaned back on the couch.
"Of course I do!"
"Lie," Tony replied. For a teenager who finished almost two bottle of whiskey, he sounded sober. "You never loved me."
Howard sighed in frustration. "What is your point Tony?"
Tony stood up. "I used to think, after –after mom died, I used to have faith," he laughed shakily, "that it could be a sign that you, my biological father, would get off your high horse and spend time with me. But now, almost six years after she died, and you still busy, even busier, I might add."
"Tony-"
"Shut up!" Tony screamed. "You were never there. You never paid attention. You never even acknowledge what I've been into. You ignored me," he said, words as fast as his tears was coming down. "All you do is throw money in my way to avoid dealing with me -your son. Am I that humiliating to you, for you to neglect my existence? 'Cause really who would forget that they produced and owns a teenage son?"
Howard was shaking with fury. The briefcase he had in hand was thrown on the floor. He approached his alcohol-induced son and slapped him across the face.
Tony rubbed his cheek. "That's what you do. You're too arrogant to admit that you make a mistake with me. The fact that you failed to succeeded me pains you, right? Ouch," Tony mocked. "You failed to be my dad, Howard. For once in your lifetime, you failed at something. You failed to be a dad. My dad."
"I never asked anything from you," Tony said quietly to his trembling father. "Everything I have, you give it to me. But I never asked. The only thing I ever want and had asked is for you to spend time with me, be a regular father and son. If mom was still alive, I won't ask this from you. She was enough. She was always there, accompanying me so I didn't feel so alone. And since she was gone, I never had a proper birthday, or Christmas or any achievement that could celebrated with occasion. I miss her, a lot. Sometimes I wish you were dead instead of her."
Howard looked at his son. "I am sorry."
"Sorry wouldn't cut it," Tony hissed. "Even if you don't know how to say it, you could have shown me that you appreciated me. Is that too much to ask? I guess it is. Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair soon I'll turn eighteen. I'll leave and you could be free of your responsibility. Your sorry wouldn't make up for the pain I had felt all these years."
Tony walked out of the residence, leaving his father dumbstruck. The whiskey bottle, now empty, was smashed to the floor carelessly.
x
"Pepper, I know its Christmas and you are probably celebrating, but I kind of need you. That is if you can come here," the voicemail from Tony said.
Pepper looked at his family. Her father was deep in conversation with her uncle. She looked at her mom, who thankfully met her gaze.
I'll be out for a moment, Pepper mouthed.
Her mother nodded. Pepper quickly grabbed her sweater and a few stuff before walking out of her house. She hailed a cab, telling the cab driver to stop near Stark Tower. Except for a few of security guards who already accustomed with her presence, Stark Tower was deserted when she entered.
Tony's penthouse was dark when she walked in. Tony himself was sitting on the rug, head in his hands. She turned on the lights, before hurriedly sat by his side. He smelled like whiskey and strangely, old book. Her eyes fell on the photo album that lay opened next to Tony and quickly understood.
"What's wrong?" She asked, enveloping him in a hug.
He was unresponsive to her touch. "Everything," he answered tiredly. "Everything is wrong. I am wrong. My mom shouldn't have been dead. My dad should've been someone else. I should've been someone else's son."
"Tony…"
"All he can say was sorry," Tony laid his head on her shoulder. "All the pain I felt all these years, all the shit I've gone through and all he can say was sorry."
Pepper soothed his back. "Shush…"
"Everything hurts, Pepper. I shouldn't have burdened you and our friends. I am useless son, right? That's why he couldn't love me."
"Tony, shh," she whispered, her own tears threatened to fall down. "You are the strongest person I've ever met. Anyone would have buckled under the pressure of being the heir of Howard Stark, being expected to exceed his predecessor. I love you. Don't ever think that you burdened me or whatnot."
Tony was shaking. "It still hurts, knowing that he will only be relieved when I'm gone."
She forced him to lay his head on her lap. Running her finger through his hair, she sang softly;
When you try your best but you don't succeed,
When you get what you want but not what you need,
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep,
Stuck in reverse,
She'd known Tony since they were kids. Tony never stopped garnering his father's attention. All he did was threw money on Tony's way. Even after Maria's death, he never put an effort in getting close to his son. Tony was always stuck to his mom's memories. She was the only thing that made him feel good about being in the family. Now that Maria was gone, everything was shattered.
And the tears come streaming down your face,
When you lose something you can't replace,
When you love someone but it goes to waste,
Could it be worse?
Tony lost Maria. And no matter how many times he swore off his father, Pepper knew Tony loved his father. But it was wasted. Howard never showed he appreciated Tony as his son.
Lights will guide you home,
And ignite your bones,
And I will try,
To fix you.
She will always be there for him. Because she loved him and he was too precious for her to ignore. Pepper would always help him to sort out his problems.
And high up above or down below,
When you are too in love to let it go,
But if you never try you never know,
Just what you're worth,
Lights will guide you home,
And ignite your bones,
And I will try,
To fix you.
She will fix him. When he reached out for her, she will be there to catch his hand.
She will fix him.
X
Reviews please!
I just had to put the song, it seems fit with the scene!
I always appreciate the reviews, to prove it, here some kisses from Pepperony and Topper xD