Tony's feet pounded on the pavement. He sprinted down the empty street. He had to go faster. He wasn't going to make it in time. He skidded to a stop, panting heavily while he watched their old white limo cruise down the road. He still had time. He could still make it. Tony bolted, running as fast as his feet would carry him. He gasped when his foot began to sink into the asphalt. The melting road was the consistency of mud and it was slowing him down. He couldn't stop now. Tony cursed and whined, clawing at the black tar wrapping around his ankles. He spluttered when he fell face first. He retched at the mouthful of tar he got and forged on. He had to save her. He couldn't fail her this time. Tony crawled through the asphalt, reaching toward the car with each painfully slow step. A black truck crashed into the white limo. It was sent careening in the air, landing on its roof as flames started to billow toward the sky. Tony froze in horror. He screamed, reaching toward the limo desperately. His mother was in the car. He was in the car. Everything was on fire and...and...

Tony woke with a strangled gasp. "Mom?" he called tiredly. "Mom!" he screamed. He turned slightly, crying out as he fell off his bed in a jumbled heap. Tony struggled against the covers. He didn't want to be bound. Not again. Not again. "Let me go," he cried. "Let me go!" His vision blurred when his head bounced off the hardwood floor. He felt hot all over, and he was burning from the inside out. Tony pushed himself away from the bed and jumped to the door. He reached for the handle, but it flung open before he touched it.

Howard swayed on his feet in the doorway. His face was red and the slight tremors in his hands made Tony shiver. Howard was on him in seconds. Tony stood as still as he could while Howard shouted. Awareness started to creep into his body. He'd had a nightmare about his mother. He'd called for her...then it felt like his kidnapping all over again. Howard had every right to be furious. Maria was a sensitive subject and Tony had been carelessly screaming her name. He deserved his father's words. He'd made a mistake and was supposed to be punished. It didn't make his feelings any less real or his thoughts any less degrading. Tony flinched when Howard waved his hands around, getting dangerously close to smacking him.

Tony yelped when he was grabbed by the forearm. Howard's fingers dug into his skin and Tony grimaced. He blinked quickly while he was dragged down the stairs. He shrieked when he was pushed towards the closet, trying in vain to direct Howard to a different direction. The man responded by shaking him roughly and tossing him into the closet. The lock clicked and Tony spun around the cramped room feverishly. He tried the light, but the bulb flashed and went out. He scrubbed his eyes harshly. He hadn't been in here in weeks. He'd been good, or at least better, but calling out for Maria was an immediate ticket to the room he supposed. Somewhere under Howard's coldness, he must've loved Maria. It was obvious by the way he forbade Tony from talking about her or the reverence he took when he gazed at her photos.

Tony had been careless and now he was paying the price.

He didn't bother to call to Howard. The man would've already left as soon as the door had been locked. Tony couldn't tell if Howard knew what he was doing when he was drunk. Speaking of, it was way too early for Howard to be that far gone. He'd either pulled an all-nighter or it was evening and Tony was confused. Tony shivered in the dark. He couldn't remember what had happened before he fell asleep. Sweat dripped down his back and his head was full of cotton. His tongue felt like sandpaper and his throat still ached with every swallow. He was hot all over and he could feel every snapped nerve and wound up muscle.

When Tony had calmed to the occasional twitch and whimper, he started writing. He could practically see where the marker lay and the expanse of the wall he needed to cover. It was muscle-memory at this point. If his hands started shaking, he took deep breaths and pressed himself as close to the wall as possible. The wall grounded him in the thick darkness. It reassured him that he wasn't drifting around lamely and he had no reason to panic. Panic never listened to reason. When his mind grew tired, it replayed his nightmare. The vivid imagery felt so real that he had trouble separating reality. Tony whimpered loudly and picked up the pace. The faster he finished, the faster he could leave. The sound of the marker rubbing against the wall accompanied by his panicked breaths made it all the more humiliating. His head fell against the door in agony. Tony wrapped his arms around his legs and sobbed. He hated being in here. He wanted out.

Tony rattled the doorknob pitifully and was surprised when he fell forward. His cheek landed on the hard floor and he spasmed. Howard scoffed and stomped away. Tony tried to stand, but his knees buckled and he fell on his face. "Pathetic," Tony slurred. Tony berated himself as he made the painstaking journey back to his room. He washed the grime off of his body and wrapped himself in his Robotics team sweatshirt. The fabric billowed around him and Tony felt like he was getting a hug.

It's the closest he came to the actual thing nowadays.

As Tony walked, he tried to call to mind the last time anyone had touched him warmly. He didn't know what made him think of it, but he had to fill the time during his walks somehow. It was more difficult than it should've been. He'd done the research on one of the harder nights. The human body needs 8 to 10 meaningful touches or else they'll start to deteriorate - physically and mentally. Jarvis had ruffled his hair before he took him to school, and he touched his shoulders. It was all he was going to get for a long time now that the man was fired. Howard didn't seem like the type to do such a drastic one-eighty. Stark Manor was shrouded by the rising sky and Tony feared he'd be swallowed by the shadows. The darkness that always seemed to accompany him. It sat in the corner, always watching but not daring to come closer unless he was alone. Whenever he looked it'd disappear. Tony barked humorlessly. He couldn't go insane. If his brain failed he didn't know what he'd do with himself.

Tony massaged his temple. The one thing worse than being molded into a human-sized bruise was getting a headache. They were annoying and distracted him in class. Howard shouldn't make him go to school after putting him in the linen closet. It was a cruel and unusual punishment right up Howard's alley. Tony smoothed his hoodie and headed to class. Hammer was nowhere in sight and he was glad. He really thought he had a headache and the usual banter would take too much energy. Just his luck when he walked into Chem to see Hammer already glowering at him. He didn't know what he did, but the look Hammer was sending him made his stomach churn.

At least he could talk to Bruce. The shy boy was busy unpacking his large backpack when Tony came over. Tony cupped his chin and tapped his nails on the workstation table. Bruce's mop of brown hair laid flat and his glasses hung dangerously on his nose. Tony remembered when he thought Bruce was like his friends. Major assholes who hated him without getting to know him, like everyone else in this school. But the boy was sweet and certainly gave Tony a run for his money when it came to genius. He'd only had a few talks with Banner, but it was obvious he was working on something that he was hugely passionate about. He didn't dare voice it, but he considered Banner an acquaintance-friend.

"Oh. Hello, Tony," Bruce greeted.

Tony smiled genuinely. "Hey, Bruce. How's the project coming?"

Bruce made a face and Tony's heart flipped. Did he say something wrong again? He should ask Howard to make one of his secretaries write up a script. Talking to people has never been his strong suit. "It's not. I can't figure out a way to isolate the radiation particles. It's very bothersome." Bruce shook his head with a smile. "How's your helper bot coming?"

Tony's smile grew and he pushed down his headache. "I think I'm done after I make a few last minute tweaks to the code. I've been on him for so long I can't think of anything to adjust. Wait, you remembered?" He didn't mean to sound so pathetic, but he was honestly confused. He didn't think Bruce actually listened when he talked. No one's done it before, but he should know by now not to think Bruce was like everyone else.

"Yeah. You told me a couple of days ago. My memory isn't that bad," he teased. Tony waved his hand. "I think if you add some touch sensors along with the auditory ones, the bot could essentially feel you and learn better."

Tony mulled it over for a half-second. "Nice," he breathed. The teacher walked in and began her lecture. Tony tuned in and out of Mrs. Simmons lecture, a smile playing on his lips while he watched Banner take down notes.

"Yes, Tony?" he whispered. Bruce tilted his head without looking up from his notes.

Tony shook his head and winced. "Bruce, um, would you...would you want to get together for a brainstorming session?" Bruce's brows knitted and Tony quickly backtracked. He grimaced. "Nevermind. It was a, uh, stupid question. You don't have-"

Mrs. Simmons cleared her throat exaggeratedly. "Mr. Stark, if you and Mr. Banner wouldn't mind, I am teaching a class. It would be in your best interest to stop talking and pay attention."

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused to the Englishwoman.

Bruce tried to catch his eye, but Tony pointedly stared at the wall. He shouldn't have asked that. His headache was messing with his train of thought. He was messing up. He pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his hands and bit his lip. Tony kept himself from covering his ears as the bell blared against his sensitive hearing. He staggered out of the classroom, leaving Bruce to stare at him in confusion. Great, if he hadn't opened his big mouth he wouldn't have to worry if Banner would tell his little gang. They already thought he was a bad influence on the boy. What would they do if they found out about their conversations?

Barnes had already pushed him aside and stolen Bruce before when Tony came to ask for his insight. They made it their job to keep Banner away, but Banner was a big boy. He could choose who he wanted to hang out with and he chose Tony...sometimes. His stupid friends should mind their business. It wasn't like Banner had stopped them before though, he thought. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and headed to English.

He stared out of the window, trying in vain to ignore the buzzing fluorescents and the conversations grating on his ears. He chewed his healing lip and sniffed. His head pinched and he grimaced. He tentatively laid down, every muscle in his body protesting until his head flopped onto the desk. Mr. Strange was speaking, but his voice sounded muffled in Tony's ears. He felt hot all over and he picked at his hoodie. Maybe the A/C in the manor actually was too high and he had a slight fever. He'd check when he got home. Tony looked up when his name was called. "Stark and Romanoff," Mr. Strange droned. "Partners."

Tony's eyes widened as his stomach bottomed out. Partners? What was he talking about? Partners for what? Tony gaped back at Romanoff from his seat, but the redhead was busy jotting down notes. The class was silent when he brought his chair over to her area. He could feel the eyes of jealous males boring into his back. He gulped, bouncing his leg while Romanoff underlined her words in blood red ink. Her green eyes fixated onto his own and he looked away. 

"Uh, hi." He chewed his bottom lip. Her eyes flicked to his lips and she relaxed slightly. He sighed softly when she nodded. Tony squeezed his left wrist. "Um, do you...I mean, what are we, er..."

Natasha Romanoff - would it be rude to call her Natasha just because they were partners? - pursed her lips. "We've been given a project for Finals week. It's our last grade before the break. Investigative Close-reading." Tony knitted his brow and Natasha Romanoff sighed. "You zoned out for half of the class, so we'll meet somewhere else and discuss the project. How about your house?" 

Tony paled, chuckling nervously when Natasha Romanoff raised an eyebrow. "My house is no good. Um, Howard's planning a huge function and he doesn't want any guests over." He smiled at his lap and prayed it was a believable lie. He didn't know how, but Romanoff was a master lie detector. She read everyone like an open book, but Tony had practice tricking people. He had pride - however, wavering - in his skills. He might be able to buy himself some time before she can figure out anything. The question was whether he wanted the redhead to figure anything out. "There's this cafe I like on Main Street. It's called Java Cup." Tony waved his hands around. "Or we can go somewhere you like, it doesn't matter to me. I just want to get this done and over with. Not that I don't like you or anything, it's just-"

"Are you sick?" She wrinkled her nose. 

Tony blinked and coughed into his fist. He was thankful for her interruption, but now that she'd drawn attention to his sore throat it was starting to burn. He nodded slightly. "Uh, the A/C's been cold for the last couple of nights. Tore my throat to shreds." He laughed uneasily when she propped her chin on her hand. Her green eyes trailed over him and Tony adjusted his collar. 

He rubbed his chest until Natasha Romanoff hummed. "Try not to talk as much. It would be a shame if you couldn't add your input because you made it worse." 

Tony blushed and looked away. He couldn't tell if she was complimenting him or if she really wanted him to talk less. Romanoff didn't seem like one to dole out compliments. He frowned at his hands. Howard always said he talked too much. The only people who didn't mind were Jarvis, Rhodey, and Bruce. He couldn't exactly add Banner to the list and Jarvis and Rhodey were gone. They only talked in Chemistry, and even then Tony tried not to bother him too much. And Jarvis was out of the question if the man kept ghosting him. Rhodey barely even called... The bell rang and he tried his best not to bolt away from the girl. He didn't want to be rude, but he couldn't be around her for another second.

Tony ducked into the canteen. He didn't know why he'd come back to the scene of the crime and he immediately blamed it on his headache. Instantly, he could breathe a little clearer and his hands trembled less. A shadow passed over him and Tony grabbed his head. "What," he snapped. "Hammer, what did I say about the courting? I'm not in the mood for a personal ballad of your feelings for me. Leave me alone," he spat.

"Impossible, we're project partners," Natasha Romanoff drawled with her Russian accent. "Java Cup on Saturday at 4. I want this done before the break and if you don't show up I will not look for you. I don't like you, but Strange has made up his mind. We will not waste each others time and we will be civil. Is that good for you?"

Tony nodded and Romanoff stalked back to her table. Her hips swayed just enough to catch the attention of every pubescent male in her vicinity and Tony sighed. He placed his head on the table and ignored the hunger pains as metal trays carried school lunch past his seat. Tony pulled his robotics sweatshirt around him tighter, trying to squeeze as much warmth from the fabric as possible. He felt eyes on him and looked up. Barton sent him a glare that rivaled the heat of earth's core when Romanoff had taken her seat beside him. She directed his face away, but Tony had already looked down first. Great, now he would have to deal with them.

He was never coming back to the canteen.