Inspired by 'I'll be There' by luckias.

(I)

Being a Stark has a lot of advantages. That's what Tony likes to think.

But…this isn't what he would like to call an advantage.

However, Stark men are made out of metal. Their hearts are cased in metal. That's what he likes to think.

Anthony looked at the picture in his father's room, the picture that his father praises all day and never gives him the time of his day.

The star spangled clad 'Hero', Steve Rogers.

Anthony glared at it so hard like it's going to burn if he kept looking at it longer.

Anthony does his best to please his father but the only thing he gets is a sidelong eye filled with disdain.

It doesn't help that his father is always away from work. He almost never comes home. The only people in Anthony's life are his mother and Edwin Jarvis.

Being a Stark has a lot of advantages, that's what Anthony likes to think.

(II)

Being a Stark was an advantage, that's what Tony liked to think.

That's what he's thinking as he bottoms up another bottle of Macallan Single Malt scotch whiskey.

Being a Stark lost its advantages when he was suddenly the last Stark living.

Anthony Stark, son of Howard and Maria Stark, reached out another bottle but something stopped him.

"Drinking won't solve anything, Master Stark." Edwin Jarvis said.

Tony… Tony could've shouted, ordered him but he didn't, he only requested—

"Call me Tony." Tony murmured.

Edwin smiled warmly, "Will do, now come and clean yourself, Mast— Tony."

Tony let out a watery chuckled like he's going to break down any moment now.

He's only thankful that Jarvis didn't comment on that.

Being a Stark was an advantage, that's what Tony liked to think.

(III)

Being a Stark was never an advantage, that's what Tony never thought.

Leaving his house results in flashes of cameras blinding him and microphones shoved in his face. Times like this need sunglasses, Tony thought.

Plastic smiles and fake ' I'm sorry's all over around.

Standing around like vultures, ready to eat him if he showed any weaknesses. Tony doesn't want their pity.

'How are you feeling about your Parents death?' some journalist shouted.

'Are you really as insensitive as your father?'

'You didn't mourn for them, did you?'

Tony kept his face blank and let Jarvis guide him in the Hotel.

Tony's hate for the media began then.

The words of the journalist's hit too close. He almost felt the metal around his heart getting dented.

Being a Stark was never an advantage, that's what Tony never thought.

(IV)

Being a Stark was a curse, That's what Tony and the world never believed.

The Stark family has the curse of genius.

Being a genius was a curse, more so when you are a Stark. Tony never believed that.

Until his mind started behaving wildly, his mind calculating things at an extreme speed and never shutting off. Even when asleep, he would dream of calculus, biology equations, engineering and the trillion Neurons in the human brain.

Tony never slept since then, always trying to shut his mind off.

It never worked.

Until—

Tony worked the courage to close on the cabinet. Tony's hand trembled at what he's about to do. 'Forgive me, Jarvis.'

Tony opened the cabin and took out a bottle of liquor and drowned it.

Tony sled down and drowned another bottle until—

Six bottles littered on the ground.

Tony's mind stuttered and slowed down. But not off, never off.

Tony sighed in relief.

Being a Stark was a curse, but Tony and the world never believed it.

(V)

Stark men are made out of metal, but Tony think this can shatter them, can shatter the metal.

Have you ever taken dark chocolate, oil and ash, and dipped them in coffee? Not the liquid coffee but the powder coffee. No? Well, It's only when you dip your finger in the black tar of chocolate and coffee, and put it in your mouth that you start to realize—

This…this is grief and anger, pure and unrefined. Grief so black that it stab you in the throat.

That's what Tony is feeling. Standing beside the deathbed of Edwin Jarvis.

"Master Stark I," Edwin breathed heavily, " Thank you. Thank you for all the years I've been with you."

This is unfair.

But when did the world choose to spare those who pity themselves?

In that moment, Tony's eyes felt blurry, tear tracks on his face.

"What are you talking about, Jarvis? And stop calling Master Stark." Tony's voice was watery and cracked between his speech but Jarvis didn't say anything.

Stark men are made out of metal, but Tony think this can shatter them, can shatter the metal.

(VI)

Being a Stark has many advantages, but Tony think this is his favorite advantage.

After the death of Jarvis, Tony hit the streets. He hit every club, pub and tarvens there is. He drunk a lot and slept with many girls that he didn't care to remember their names of.

And that's when Obistian came in. His uncle. Bald with eyes full of shrewdness and basically being slimey.

Tony didn't care about that or him. He bought a lot of alcohol to drink. To forget, trying to make the pain less sharper.

That's when his anger Introduced itself.

Anger at the Stark name, Anger at his father, anger at himself and the world.

Tony spend every waking moment drunk.

Because of that Tony will, vividly remember in the future, that because of being an alcoholic he signed many papers without reading them. Signed any agreement without reading it's clause and conditions.

That day, SI died with the old him.

Being a Stark has many advantages, but Tony think this is his favorite advantage.

(VII)

Tony wakes up some days remembering the sound of Jarvis. The British male tilt voice full of baritone and warmth.

Tony crave to remember that, but the owner of it di— oh, it haven't sinked in yet.

But Tony forgot, he forgot that Stark men are made out of metal. He forgot that Stark men can create.

But he remembered. So he did. He create.

He sat on his computer and coded. He sat hour's to no end, his back, arms and eyes hurting but he didn't give up.

He wished he did, months later. As the code always run into ERROR.

Tony spend days not eating, the food will always come back.

'What am I doing wrong?'

At that time, Tony started to question his intelligence.

But he didn't need to.

Days later,

"J.A.R.V.I.S online—"

Tony's knees buckled at the familiar voice sounding in his speakers. His whole body shook as the voice washed over him, like a warm blanked of warmth and safety when raining outside.

Like a cup of warm coffee in winter, or a bottle of cold water in summer after you finished working under the sun.

"Good morning, Master Stark."

Tony tried to speak, his throat closing and constricting. Out of sheer instincts if nothing else, Tony said.

"I-i told you to stop calling me that, didn't I?"

Tony, for that moment ignored the AI fret over him, ignored its — his, his voice— distress calls and just listened to his voice.

A/N: I'll continue this when I'm bored again but for now, I'll just mark it complete. I tried to include feelings and emotions but I'm not sure if I did that correctly. Anyway I don't know Tony's childhood or how Edwin died, so don't be surprised if it didn't match any movies or comics you've read/watched.

Anyway, This is Godfire, signing off for now.