Chapter Text
Take off the suit; Who are you?
Chapter One
“Master Anthony, please. You need to rest,” Jarvis urges.
“No, Jarvis, what I need is to finish this,” Tony argues gesturing to the workshop table covered in things that Jarvis couldn’t even begin naming. “You’ll appreciate it when I do, I swear.”
“Master Anthony, the only thing I appreciate is your health. Now, please, I must insist, come to bed.”
“But Jarvis, come on,” Tony whines, eyes unmoving, focused intently on the project in front of him.
Jarvis shakes his head and wraps his long fingers around Tony’s wrist. He doesn’t grip it hard enough to hurt, only to add enough pressure to remind the boy that there’s a world beyond the project in which he’s lost himself. As per usual, Tony’s head snaps to his wrist and then slowly looks up at Jarvis’s face.
“You’ve been down here for sixteen hours. You need a proper meal and then bed.”
Tony looks back down at his project and then rubs at his eyes, smearing grease across his face.
“I’m not a baby,” Tony grumbles, even as he clears up the work desk. “I don’t need to be looked after.”
“No, you’re twelve, and you need someone to manage you,” Jarvis corrects. “Now, come along. Ana has made your favourite.”
Tony skips giddily to the door, looking back every few seconds to ensure that Jarvis is still following. Ana always knows when he needs a pick-me-up. Usually, Tony spending twenty hours uninterrupted isn’t unheard of, but there had been a big argument with his father earlier. Jarvis knew that if Tony wallowed any further, he’d have to drag Tony out by his ear.
It had all started the week before when Howard said Tony was going on a trip. It came to a head this morning when Tony discovered that neither of his parents would be at his side. Worse, it would see him on the other side of the world.
Tony hadn’t wanted to go on the business trip with Uncle Obie. Still, his father insisted that now was the time he started to have a more active role in the company and to orchestrate a weapons demonstration with his father's right-hand man was the best introduction to the life.
Tony didn’t want to go for many reasons.
First, Uncle Obie is a damn bore. Tony loves him, but Obie only ever wants to talk about Tony’s ‘ideas’ for the future. Usually, Tony doesn’t think much passed his current project. He shouldn’t need to. None of the other kids at school has to make plans to take over the family business when they’re older.
Second, Tony has never travelled that far without either of his parents there with him. Afghanistan is a long way away. Trips across the world usually are, but the distance always feels so much more prominent when he and his mum and dad aren’t together. He doesn’t want to go without them, but his father had insisted upon it.
Hence the argument.
The only reprieve from the enforced trip is that Colonel Rhodes will be there. He’s the military liaison between Stark Industries and the air force, and he’s been around since Tony was a toddler. Their friendship started with hair ruffles and secret candy, but as Tony got old enough to form full sentences, he was able to have real conversations with Rhodes, and now Tony considers Rhodey his best friend.
“I don’t want to go, Jarvis. Can’t you ask Dad to keep me here?!
“You’ll be fine,” Jarvis assures, as they head upstairs. “Obadiah and Colonel Rhodes will keep you safe.”
“I’m not worried about being safe. I’m worried about being bored. Could you come with me?”
“I wish I could, Anthony, but your father is almost as careless with his health as you are. Someone has to stay behind to watch over him.”
Tony giggles as he jumps up on a stool, where Ana starts serving him risotto with a loving smile.
“Glad to see you out of that wretched room, Anthony. Now. Eat up. And for goodness sake, clean that grease from your face.”
Tony digs in, hungrier than he’d even noticed. Ana takes this as an opportunity to scrub at his face with a napkin, clicking her tongue when Tony tries to lean away.
“Gross, Ana. Are you using your spit?” Tony groans, turning his head to the side.
“I’ve changed your diapers, Tony. You don’t get to speak to me about ‘gross’.”
As his face burns red, Tony allows Ana’s reign of ickiness.
Once he’s eaten, Jarvis ushers Tony into the bathroom with strict instructions to wash and brush his teeth.
Tony climbs into his bed that night, staring resentfully at the packed suitcase by the door. He’s not looking forward to this trip, but it’ll appease his father, and if he thinks about it right, it’ll be like an extended vacation with his best friend.
~
“Tony!”
Grinning, Tony runs up the jet stairs, throwing himself into Rhodes’s arms. Happy follows closely behind and stores Tony’s suitcase in an overhead locker.
“Rhodey! Hi!”
Rhodey gives him a tight squeeze and then leads him inside, where Uncle Obie sits, with a tumbler of scotch in his hand and a stack of paper on the table in front of him. He looked up at Tony’s arrival and stood to greet him with a crushing hug. Tony doesn’t like the smell of alcohol, but he greets his Uncle enthusiastically anyway.
“Your father told me you weren’t happy about making this trip, but I’m glad he talked you into it. It’s about time you get your fingers in the family business, Anthony, my boy. Come, we’re about to take off. Put on your seat belt.”
Before doing so, Tony hugs Happy.
“Remember what I told you on the ride, Kid. Stick close to Colonel Rhodes. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“I promise,” Tony whispers, pulling away. “See you soon!”
Happy shakes hands with Rhodey and offers Stane a nod – which Obadiah does not return or acknowledge – and disembarks the plane.
“Tony. Seatbelt. Now.”
Tony does as he’s told, sitting in a chair opposite Rhodes, who calls the stewardess to bring them both some orange juice. The seatbelt clicks over his lap, and he accepts the cold glass with a bright smile.
“You’re adorable,” the steward says.
“Am not.”
“Would you like anything else, sir?” the man asks, ignoring the denial. “Some hot Sake?”
“No, thank you. The adorable child and I are good with just the juice.”
Rhodes can sometimes be talked into drinking during work, but he never drinks around Tony. Tony appreciates it. His father makes an effort sometimes, too. He doesn’t want Tony to think that alcohol is a healthy crutch, but Tony knows his father has a bottle of whiskey under his desk at all times. Tony used to spend a lot of time playing under there as a child, often being given chocolate by his father when his mother wasn’t there to scold them for it.
“Miss Potts has sent word ahead that the demonstration will be on schedule. We have some time to settle into the hotel when we get there, and we’ll be picked up by a convoy in the morning. Jarvis packed you a suit, as far as I’m aware, and Mr Rhodes is providing a vest.”
Rhodes bristles at the lack of recognition for his position, but he nods anyway.
“A bullet-proof vest?” Tony asks, shaken. “Will I need one?”
“Not at all,” Rhodes assures.
“But it’s better safe than sorry, my boy.”
Tony nods, but he’s suddenly far more apprehensive about this trip than he was a moment ago.
“Don’t worry, Tones,” Rhodes says, putting a hand on the table between the two of them. “I’ll keep you by my side the entire time. It’s just a demonstration. I’ve done these a dozen times with your father, and we’ve never had a problem.”
Tony nods again, his gaze straying to the window.
Little did any of them know that less than twenty-four hours later, Tony will be thrown into a dirty cave with a bloody chest.
“Save him,” someone orders, the words barely breaching Tony’s consciousness. “Do whatever you have to.”