Chapter Seventeen:
After explaining the situation with Ultron to Tyron, he was still sent to bed. He had school, and definitely did not want to miss it. They also didn't want him getting too involved in the Ultron issue, in case he got hurt.
Tyron didnt try to argue and just went to sleep. Or, at least he tried. He was still thinking about how easily that robot, that Ultron reminded him so badly of Baron. And, he killed JARVIS, who was the only real friend Tyron had since he came to the Tower. JARVIS didn't judge him, and he had knew who and what he truly was since the beginning, and he didn't give him away.
Ultron was going to pay for killing JARVIS, and Tyron would eat out his cold metal heart if he had to.
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
Tyron tiredly nodded along to what Peter was saying, half-listening. His planning to kill Ultron had left him with an hour of sleep. Thankfully, with everything going on, Steve hadn't called him down for a morning run.
Tyron kept nodded, his eyes slowly closing. He didn't even realize that Peter had stopped talking. That is, until the hand that propped up his head slipped and he fell straight into his Mac and cheese.
Tyron sat up immediately at the sudden scent of food, coughing and gagging. "Did that wake you up?" Peter asked, laughing.
"Yeah," he muttered, wiping off his face. "Sorry. M'really tired..."
"I can tell," Peter laughed. "Is there a test that I'm missing out on? Why are you so tired?"
"Jus'... Jus' some family problems," Tyron muttered.
"Damn, what happened? If you don't wanna talk, that's cool too."
"Nah. It's just... An... Uncle came over, and messed up some stuff," Tyron lied, wincing at the weakness of it.
"An uncle? How bad was it?"
"Pretty bad," Tyron replied, rubbing his face. "He was a jackass."
"I hope things get better," Peter replied, and Tyron nodded, mumbling a thanks. "What's his name, it you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh," Tyron blanked. A name?! "Uh... Ultron..."
Peter scrunched up his eyebrows, "Ultron? That's kind of a weird name."
"It's a nickname, apparently," Tyron shrugged. "He really likes, uhm, robots when he was younger, so... Ultron..."
"Huh," Peter frowned, "Well, hope it gets sorted out."
"Yeah, me too," Tyron replied. Lunch was soon let out, and Tyron went to go dump his tray.
"Why don't you eat?" Tyron froze immediately at the voice. He didn't recognize it, it was feminine. He turned to see a darkskinned girl with long, bushy hair and a few piercings looking at him. Her eyebrow was raised, and her arms cross over her a very gothic-flower shirt.
"Uhm, what?" Tyron frowned, still holding his food.
"Your food," she pointed to the tray of untouched food - if you don't count his face planting in it earlier. "Why go through the trouble of buying it if you never eat it?"
Tyron shrugged and dumped his tray. "M'not hungry. Thought I was, now m'not."
"So... You haven't been hungry for a week?" She narrowed her eyebrows.
"What?" He turned to leave, he was blocking the trashcans, and the girl followed him.
"I've noticed. For a week, you get a tray, and then dump it. You don't eat a bite."
"I probably wasn't hungry," he moved to sit back with Peter.
"Hey, Michelle," Peter waved at the girl awkwardly as she sat beside him. "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"Asking a question," she replied, leaning her head on her hands as she talked.
"Has it occured to ya that maybe, I don't like the food here?" Tyron challenged.
"Nobody does. We still eat it," Michelle replied. "Besides, if you don't like it, then why waste your money and but it?"
"Oh. You're talking about that," Peter said, nodding. "I noticed that, but I assumed you had to have had a reason, so..."
"And, you don't bring food either," Michelle continued. "You can't be anorexic because you're buff as all get out. So, what is it? So you sneak food in class? Just a little snack here and there?"
"I don't do that," Tyron narrowed his eyes. "An' I do eat, thank ya very much. Maybe ya just not as nosy as ya thought."
"Then prove it," Michelle grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. She went in her bag and pulled out a simple chocolate chip cookie. "A treat." Tyron stared at it, but didn't move.
"C'mon, Michelle," Peter finally spoke. "Leave him alone. There's probably a reason why, you don't have to-"
"I don't," Michelle shrugged. "I'll stop, but then we'll never know why, and I don't care. But, I heard that mutants don't eat real food. What if he got accused for being a mutant because someone figured out he didn't eat food? Peter, he'd be expelled. There's already rumours going around about you not eating, but if people see you reject a simple cookie, what'll they think?"
"Michelle," Peter growled, angrily, but there was no need. Tyron quickly snatched the cookie away and shoved it in his mouth.
"There," he growled, swallowing the cookie. She blinked, surprised. "Now take yaself somewhere else." Michelle shrugged, and stood, leaving the table.
Tyron turned away, "M'headin' out," was all he said before he grabbed his stuff and left.
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
Tyron sat over the toilet bowl, spilling out his insides. He could barely distinguish up from down at this point. Tony, he thought belatedly. He had to call Tony. He'd... Show up all suitie and fly him to dad's house.
Tyron let out a giggle, but it was followed by the grayish vomit again. "Yo, dude, are you okay?" A voice came from outside the stall.
"M'good," he replied, shaking his head. "Ya know what I need, man?"
"What, dude?"
"I want some weed, man." He said, but then vomited again.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, man, I just need some good weed," Tyron sighed.
"Okay, but we gotta to outside." Tyron nodded, agreeing.
"Lezz go," Tyron slurred, wiping his face. The stranger helped Tyron outside. They made it to the back field without falling or him puking everywhere, which was good.
The stranger lit a joint, then handed it to him to take a drag. He did. Tyron took a long, hard drag and felt his mind fuzz immediately. "Fuck yeah..." He murmured, passing the joint to the stranger. "Haven't had a good smoke in months, man." He took a drag, then handed it back.
"Why, dude?" He asked, smoke spilling out of the corners of his mouth.
"My people, man," Tyron sided, nearly collasping with relief after the next one. He felt some more sick rise in his throat, but he ignored it, and it went back down. The world was beginning to get a bit more fuzzing, now, but he ignored it too. He hadn't had the chance to get high in a while and it was good.
"What's your people like, dude?" Tyron sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"They're white, man," Tyron sighed. "And one Hispanic, but he's boujee as fuck, man... They don't let me smoke, which is the only thing I like to do. Goddamn, they don't even care JARV died, man. They're shitty people."
"Damn, they sound bad, what's they're names?" They gave him the joint, that had a few more uses for it.
"'Ey call 'emselves 'e 'Vengers," Tyron slurred and scoffed. "They don't 'venge shit, though. They only deal with petty shit overseas. It's annoying as all get out."
"The Avengers?!" The stranger gasped, shocked. "You're living with...- I-I mean, damn, dude, that's sick."
"Who are ya?" Tyron demanded, suspicious. He tried to focus on their face, but it was so bright outside, and he was dizzy, spots filling his vision. "Wha'... What the hell...?" He stumbled towards them, but his legs felt weird. What was in that joint?! "What'chu... Do me?" He blubbered, trying to grab the person.
"You'll be fine, soon," They replied easily. "Baron will love to hear that his little pet was hanging with the Avengers." They laugh and began to run away. Tyron didn't have the strength to run after them. If they got to Baron and he was still here, he'd be dead. He had to get out of there.
Clumsily, Tyron made his way to the fence and began to climb it. After nearly ten minutes, he made it to the top, then slipped and fell on the asphalt.
Groaning and sporting a bloody nose, Tyron stumbled down the sidewalk. He drunkenly ran for nearly ten minutes before sliding into an alley and vomiting again. All that movement made him even more sick than he had been before.
He sat beside the trash bin, glaring and stabbing rodents with careless flicks of his wrist. He hadn't realized he had been gone for so long until the sky began to darken, and suddenly, drizzle.
Tyron swore, not having the strength to stand. He shivered violently for an hour because of the flash rain. That is, until he heard someone calling his name.
It was faint, and he was still pretty high, but he heard it. He let out a weak groan. It was all he could manage from the rain and his sick. Then, it stopped, and he leaned against the trash bin, bile rising in his stomach again. He vomited on the ground next to him - it was an accumulating pile of vomit and was beginning to earn the attraction of flies.
"Tyron!" Someone shouted nearby, and Tyron moaned again, weakly. He heard footsteps turn into the alley and soon, a blonde man stood in front of him, staring in shock.
"How in the world...?!" Steve muttered, moving to help him up.
"Long... Story," he muttered. "Cookie, weed, Baron... God, m'high as fuck..."
"Doesn't matter, get in," Steve said, pulling him to a car that had a rain-soaked parking ticket on it. There were blankets in the back, and they were warm. Tyron crawled over, wrapping himself in the covers, and fell asleep.
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
Tyron woke up in the infirmary. He snuggled in his blankets, closing his eyes. "Mister Tyron?" A feminine voice he didn't quite recognize spoke.
"Mhmm?" He mumbled.
"Doctor Banner and Master Stark wish to see you. Is that alright?"
"Mm-hmm."
The door opened and Tony began to shout. "What the hell were you thinking?!" Tony demanded, and Tyron sat up, surprised.
"Wha'-?"
"You come here, drugged and high?! And you didn't think to call!? What the hell, Tyron!?"
"Sorry. M'sorry," Tyron mumbled.
"I hope you have a reasonable explanation because if not, you'll be running with Rogers until your knees pop out of their joints."
"That's not possible-" Bruce interrupted, but Tony was already on a roll.
"Do you know what my mother would have done if I came back like this?!" He demanded, "She would have gotten la chancla on my ass and if you don't start explaining now, you will too!" Tyron rose an eyebrow and almost laughed, but Tony was dead serious. "You think I'm kidding?! Give me my goddamn flip flops!"
"Okay, Tony," Bruce sighed, moving the angry man. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."
"Better be," Tony growled.
They turned to him and he cleared his throat. "This girl tried to out m'as a mutant," Tyron began. "I had to eat a cookie to tell 'er I wasn't. Then, I got real sick in the bathroom and some guy came, offered m'some weed. We smoked behind the school. The weed was laced with somethin' because one moment, everythin' was fine, the next I was trippin' fuckin' balls. The dude, knew about Baron, and I accidentally let it spill that I was livin' wit' ya guys. He left, and I left. Then, it started to rain and Steve found me."
Tony and Bruce were silent for a moment. Then, Tony reached down. A second later, he was hit in the face with a shoe. "Fuck!" Tyron snapped, rubbing his face where the rubber bottom hit him.
"Language!" Bruce scolded.
"'E threw a shoe at m'face!" Tyron snapped.
"You accepted drugs from a stranger in a high school bathroom!?" Tony snapped back.
"I was sick! I would've done worse in a high school bathroom!" Tyron growled.
"Both of you, stop," Bruce said, loudly, and both stopped arguing. "Tony, if you're not going to help, I'm going to ask you to go." Tony grumbled, but grabbed his shoe and left.
When the doors closed, he looked at Tyron. "Let me see your nose," he ordered, and Tyron leaned forward. He took the bandage of it. "FRIDAY, is Tony watching the camera in here?" Bruce asked, still feeling Tyron's nose.
"No, sir," the woman spoke again. "He is currently speaking with Mister Steve Rogers."
"Good." He moved to the table beside him and picked up a pencil. Tyron rose an eyebrow, wondering what that would do to his nose. Then, he poked his chest with it. Tyron scrambled back, covering his chest, his face burning with embarrassment and horror. "Yep, definitely a girl," Bruce muttered to himself, handing him some cream. "Rub that on your nose."
"Wha...?" Tyron was stunned, and stared at Bruce. He glanced towards the door, but he was too far. The man who could turn into a raging green monster was far closer to the door, and could probably kill him with his pinkie.
"Don't worry, I've known since the beginning. You don't have an Adam's apple," Bruce shrugged, pointing to his own Adam's apple. "My nephew is trans, you know. He might have a few old binders you can use, if you want. Do you have any binders?"
"I... Wh..." Tyron stared at him. He knew. He knew. He knew. He knew. He would tell the others. It's not safe here. Run. Run.
He moved away from the man, glancing back at the door, and the camera. Bruce just made sure that computer, FRIDAY, made sure that nobody was watching. "What are ya goin' to do to me?" Tyron asked carefully, eying the man's every movement.
Bruce gave him a weird look. "I was planning on giving you a few of my nephews old binders, if you needed them," Bruce admitted. "What do you use?"
"Bandages," Tyron said slowly. "Only thin' I can afford."
"You can't use that," Bruce frowned, worryingly. "I can get him to give you some of his. So-"
"You didn't answer m'question," Tyon glared. "What are ya gonna do to me!?" He clenched his fists to keep himself from shaking, but his heart was bearing faster than a rabbits and sweat grew on his brow. He couldn't stay here any longer. It was already too much that Natasha knew, but Bruce? He'd tell everyone and then he'd be in so much trouble. They would kill him, he'd be sent back to Baron.
"Tyron, calm down," Bruce insisted. "I'm not going to do anything to you. I just wanted to know if you wanted any binders."
"Ya lyin'!" Tyron snapped, he couldn't take it. He just wanted them to kill him and get it over with. "Shut up! Ya lyin'!"
"Tyron, I'm not," Bruce assured. "I want to help."
"Ya lyin'!" He screamed, his hand clenching the metal bar making it crack and bend. "Leave m'alone! Don't touch me!"
"Calm down, I'm not going to do anything to you," Bruce said.
"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" Tyron screamed. He tried to calm his erratic breathing, but the thought of the others giving him up to Baron scared him too much. His nails began to form metal claws, as he moved away from the man.
"I'm not! I won't!" Bruce assured. "Please, Tyron, I really need you to calm down." Bruce held out his hands in front of him, in surrender, but Tyron panicked. His arm whipped out and his metal claws racked against Bruce's palms.
Bruce let out a shout of alarm, backing up several feet. Tyron stared at him, blood pounding in his ears. Bruce held his hand and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. The room was silent for several minutes. Then, Bruce moved, going to clean off the blood, disinfect it, and wrap it up.
After several minutes of dead silence, Bruce sat in the chair beside the bed. "M'sorry," Tyron said softly. "I-I got scared. Last time someone found out... I..."
"No, no, It's my fault," Bruce sighed, "I should have handled that better. I never meant to scare you, I only wanted to help."
"I-I know. S'jus'... When Baron found out I was... Yeah, he... Raped me..." Tyron spoke low, and Bruce's eyes widened. "He... He found out that I didn't kill this little girl who saw m'kill someone he wanted dead. When he was... Punishin' m'for it, m'bandages came undone. When he noticed, he took m'in his room an'... Yeah..." He took a shuddering sigh, closing his eyes. "After tha' he rented m'out to people... 'Til I got enough money to buy myself..."
"Oh, my god, Tyron," Bruce said softly, shocked. "I didn't know... Oh my... I didn't..." He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm so sorry."
"'S fine, I was bein' stupid," He forced out a laugh. "Since, ya know, they're so many guys here, I assumed that since ya knew, ya would tell everyone, an' then I'd end up in the same problem." He let out a dry laugh, choking on tears. "I'd be stuck, 'gain. Or, ya'll would just give m'back to Baron. M'already as much of a freak as it is, ha... Don't want a gender-confused girl who acts like somethin' she's not, haha." He tried to wipe at his tears. "God, m'such an idiot."
"No, you're not," Bruce scolded, coming close. "And, you're not gender-confused. We don't care what you are, Tyron. We want you to be you. And that can be whoever and whatever you're comfortable with, alright? And we would never, ever send you back to that... That shitty excuse for a man, because you're a girl. And we sure wouldn't use you like he did either, Jesus, Tyron. Why didn't you tell us that," Bruce shook his head, but Tyron didn't say anything. He was too busy sobbing.
"M'sorry," he managed to choke between his tears.
"God, Tyron, don't be sorry. You did nothing. You've been conditioned to think like that. That thinking, thinking we're going to hurt you, that's just you speaking from experience. You assumed it because that was all you knew," Bruce explained softly. "You didn't know, but now you do. Alright?" Tyron gave him a teary nod, trying not to cry anymore. "Can I give you a hug?" Tyron nodded again, and Bruce moved close to him, hugging him tight to his shoulder.
Bruce rubbed his back, speaking soothing words, and for the first time since Chris died, he let himself cry.