As soon as he stepped through the door, Tony could sense something was wrong. Jarvis wasn't there to drive him home and he'd had to walk. The walk was long and quiet, and he'd gotten turned around more times than he could count. It was uncomfortable. Now, he was home and the feeling of wrong had intensified. 

     "J, I'm home!" he shouted. Howard should be in the lab. The room was far enough away that he wouldn't hear Tony shout. It was the only reason he dared to raise his voice. "Jarvis? It's not funny anymore. You already bailed on me this afternoon, stop playing games." Tony's smile dropped at the silence. He searched through the downstairs rooms - living room, dining room, kitchen - and scoured behind each door upstairs. Jarvis was nowhere in sight. Tony rubbed his chest when the room began to spin. His head pounded and he was trembling all over. He doubled over, falling onto his knees as he tugged at his shirt. Tears streamed down his numb cheeks as he curled into a ball. "Jarvis, Jarvis, Jarvis," he chanted in a neverending loop. 

     Tony didn't know how long he was on the floor, but when he opened his eyes they were crusty and the sun had gone down. He wiped the drool from his mouth and stumbled into the bathroom. He heaved over the bowl, emptying his hollow stomach into the churning water. Drained of energy, he was tempted to fall asleep on the toilet. He knew better than that. Tony pushed himself up with his weak arms and fell onto his bed. His tears ran long and silent as he fell into a fitful sleep. When he woke, his head was pounding and his face was puffy. He wished he could stay in bed for the day, but Howard might kill him this time. He was surprised the man hadn't barged in concerning what occurred during school. Tony wanted to believe he'd gotten lucky. He also wanted to believe in luck. 

     He forced himself to stand and clean himself up. Howard says Starks always put their best foot forward. Tony rubbed his eyes on his way downstairs. His feet padded on the hardwood and his hand trailed down the ornate railing. Tony tilted his head at the sounds coming from the kitchen. He bounded down the remaining steps and tripped into the room. Tony froze in his tracks at the sight of Howard. Howard's spoon hitting against the coffee mug in his hands is what had caused the noise. He thought it was Jarvis making Tony's morning coffee. He thought last night had been a mistake; a fluke. Memories crashed into one another and he fought hard to stay afloat. Tony squared his shoulders. 

     "Where's Jarvis?" He asked, blunt. 

     Howard raised an eyebrow. His mustache twitched. "Is that any way to greet your father?"

     "No sir," he muttered. "Good morning, Howard. I was wondering if you could tell me where Jarvis is."

     Howard tapped a finger against the ceramic. "Who?"

     Tony's nostrils flared and he clenched his hands. He took a daring step forward. "The Butler," he snapped. Howard furrowed his brow. Tony resisted the urge to scream. "Edwin Jarvis. Our butler. The man who was more of a father to me than you ever were."

     That seemed to jog the man's memory. Howard set down his coffee mug. He wondered how much liquid was actual coffee. The class ring on his right hand shone as he twirled the ring around. Tony turned his head away when Howard leaned down to the shell of his ear. "He was fired," he smiled against the shell of Tony's ear, "and it's all your fault." 

     "No," Tony breathed. Howard chuckled and patted Tony's shoulder harder than necessary. The man picked up his mug and stared down at his son. Tony tripped back onto the wood floor. He clutched his hair, not noticing he was starting to rock. "No. What did you do? What did you do!" he screamed. 

     Howard smashed the mug on the ground. Tony's breath caught as fingers tightened around his windpipe. His eyes bulged from the pressure. He twitched in Howard's hands, scrambling for purchase while his air was cut off. He tried to take it back; to apologize, but his lungs were collapsing from the lack of air. Tony's feet swung freely in his mission to find the ground and he gripped Howard's forearm. Howard slapped him, hard. Pain wracked his body when his back hit the island counter. He was going to pass out if Howard didn't let go. The man's fingers seemed to tighten with each passing second and Tony ceased flailing. Jarvis always stitched him up on this counter. He coaxed him to health every time without fail. The butler's gentle hands brought life back to his body. It seemed only fitting that he'd lose his life on the sacred surface. 

     "You do not yell at me, boy." Tony wheezed when his body was thrown to the ground. "You don't want to leave you here? Like your mother did, do you? You don't want to be alone, do you, Anthony!"

     "No sir," he wheezed desperately. He coughed harshly, raising his hands to protect his throat from more abuse. He sat on his knees, avoiding eye contact respectfully while Howard paced. 

     "I am the only person who will bother to take of you. You're an insufferable boy who deserves this. Do you deserve this?" Tony nodded shamefully. He did. Howard was the only one who bothered to touch him, bothered to look at him. It was always with unbridled fury or disappointment, but at least he looked. That was more than he could say about his school. 

     Howard sneered, "Get to school. You're walking from now on. You need to lose some weight. Starks aren't chubby, Anthony. And don't cause any more trouble." Tony's eyes widened before he was taken by another fit of coughs and gasps. "I know what happened with Hammer, Anthony. Believe that I wasn't happy about that phone call." Tony scooted away when Howard neared. The man disappeared down the hall and the manor was silent. 

     He missed his mother. 

     Tony blinked at the thought. He shouldn't miss that woman. He didn't. He missed Jarvis. Tony made to nod, but the movement aggravated his throat and he winced. Thinking about Maria would do nothing but make him feel guilty. Right now, he needed to figure out what he was going to do about school. He hurried into the guest bathroom, poking and prodding at the red marks on his skin. Howard must've been angry last night. He's furious if he aims for the face, but the neck is harder to hide than his sides or arms. Tony felt disgusted that he knew the varying difficulties of hiding bruises. His hand lingered above his throat before he rushed upstairs to change. 

     He hopped down the steps, programming the directions to school into his phone. He turned the black smartphone in his hands. The earbuds clicked into the jack and he settled into the blaring voices of AC/DC. He stared at the spiderweb cracks on the screen. He could make a better one. Tony raised an eyebrow. He would make a better phone. His phone would be state-of-the-art with all of his own quirks and safety facets. His fingers twitched for his notebook, but he couldn't sketch and walk. He settled for building it in his mindscape. A StarkPhone. That's what he'd call it. He mapped it out - the battery size, the power of the speaker, the functionality of the keyboard. Every raw thought was tucked away safely in his mindscape. 

     "Hey, J, what do you think of the sensitivity on iPhone keyboards?" Tony waited for a beat before he looked up. His head snapped around at the sound of passing cars and migrating people. His feet slapped on the pavement. His morning encounter with Howard slammed into him so hard he tripped. He rubbed at his throat subconsciously. Right, Jarvis was gone now. Fired. Taken out of his life without so much as a goodbye. They were supposed to be together forever. Now, he'd probably never see his friend again if Howard said so. He lowered his head and immersed himself back into the world of engineering. He wasn't supposed to have friends in the first place, it had only been a matter of time before Jarvis was sent away. Howard was right - he was always right - about him destroying everything he touched. 

     By the time he got to school, he already had a basic sketch of the model in his mind and his self-worth was in the gutter. His sneaker had barely touched the curb when he was pulled off his feet. Tony stared into the enraged eyes of Justin Hammer. He had a purpling bruise on his cheek and a bandage on his nose. Tony couldn't remember hitting Hammer's nose, but anything before his anxiety attack last night blurred together. Tony winced when Hammer shook him in the air. He leaned his head back and grinned with his best media smile. "I see someone's been watching too much anime. Band-aids aren't an aesthetic, Hammer," he quipped. Tony swallowed dryly at the rasp in his voice. He'd blame it on the cold in the manor. Hammer growled at him. Tony patted his cheek with his free hand. "Now, now. Who's a good boy?" Hammer snapped at his fingers and Tony gasped. "No biting!" he scolded, barely maintaining a straight face.

     Hammer dropped him when a teacher looked their way, but the threat in his eyes was obvious. Hammer's planning to spill blood. He'd have to make sure it wasn't his. Tony heaved himself to his feet and shuffled into school. He went through the motions - sit, stare out the window, write up prints, repeat - until History rolled around. Maria Hill taught his class and he considered himself lucky. Not because she was attractive, though he wouldn't deny her looks, it was because she didn't take any shit. He had Hammer in this class and it might be the one time the guy couldn't bother him in fear of getting his ass kicked. He loved duking it out with Justin, but everyone needs a break from a 24/7 feud. Ms. Hill stalked up and down the rows with a stack of papers with her heels clicking ominously. Tony rolled his eyes. Pop quiz. 

     "Pop quiz," she barked. Tony smirked. Called it, he thought. The class groaned in unison. Tony didn't mind the surprise. It was enough to see Hammer's panicked face behind him. Tony's eyes landed on two idiots from That table. Clinton Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Admittedly, he didn't know if Barton was an idiot, but Romanoff certainly wasn't. She had the second highest grade in this class - yes, he hacked into the database - and he knew she'd be first if he wasn't here. Her bright red hair remained still as Barton whispered in her ear. His blue eyes were lidded while his lips moved quickly. Romanoff didn't move a muscle and Tony wondered if she was even listening. Her eyes suddenly flew open, landing right on him as if she knew he was staring. Barton stopped speaking and looked up, his own blue eyes landing on Tony too. Barton glanced between the two. Her eyes narrowed and Tony turned around swiftly. He could feel her staring, but he focused on the pop quiz and didn't once look back. "Begin," Hill said. 

     Pencils flew across papers as each student filled in answers. Tony chewed his lip while he bubbled in the questions. He moved on auto-pilot, trusting his brain to keep him in the right direction. He could still feel her eyes on his back and he shuddered. Tony didn't want to look back, but he was always a curious person. He wasn't surprised to see her staring exactly where she'd been looking before. He painfully cleared his throat, shifting the turtleneck higher and moving away. Romanoff's eyes flicked to his neck and Tony flinched. Hill snapped her fingers and Tony turned back around. He tapped his pencil lazily and looked around. Hill caught his eye and motioned to the door. There were five minutes left in class.

     Tony quietly scooped up his bag and turned in the quiz. Hill's eyes flicked to his collar and Tony bristled. He rushed out of the classroom with a soft thanks. He swallowed convulsively and turned on his heel. Heading to the downstairs janitor's closet, Tony rubbed his chest at the dull ache. His thoughts drifted to The Accident and he shook his head. Now was neither the time nor place to think about that. His thoughts drifted too far and landed on the topic of Jarvis. Tony took his iPhone out with trembling hands. He inserted the key - thanks, Happy - and sneaked into the small room. He blinked rapidly when he switched the light on. His racing heart calmed when his eyes deemed the place safe. He used to be able to enjoy small spaces until Howard had to ruin them. Tony might destroy everything he touches, but Howard ruined anything Tony minimally enjoyed. Tony didn't want to think about the fact that he was such a troublemaker that Howard was trying to help. 

     Tony focused on the task at hand. Calling Jarvis was his highest priority. Tony bit his lip and his fingers tapped an unintelligent beat while he waited. The phone rang...and rang. Jarvis would never send him to voicemail. Ever. As the phone continued to ring his anxiety grew. Jarvis wasn't ignoring him, right? His brain supplied him with the worst thoughts imaginable; thoughts he knew deep in his warped subconscious. Jarvis was only there because it was his job. The caring and warmth were to keep his position. His feelings were artificial and Tony was simply his employer's son. Their relationship was employer and employee. 

     Tony didn't know when he breaths started to come in short bursts or when he'd sat on his knees and rocked with the ringing phone discarded beside him. He covered his mouth at the sound of a beep, hoping against hope that Jarvis had answered. He listened as the generic tone of Jarvis' voicemail rang out. He grabbed his phone with shaking hands, not trusting himself to actually be able to speak. He hung up and redialed. Tony sobbed when the voicemail sounded. He called again and again, over and over until his fingers cramped and the closet started to cave. His keened softly, hugging himself tightly until he thought he could face the world. He'd never leave the closet if he had a choice. Facing the world was hard when it seemed like everyone was against you. 

     Tony felt sick to his stomach. Thinking like this, it scared him. He was a Stark. He was supposed to be liked and adored by all. He was supposed to make people jealous and envious. Starks are supposed to make others want to be like them. Everyone loved his mother and more people strived to be his father. Tony wouldn't wish his life upon anyone. He didn't want people to want to be him, because then they'd have to live with Howard and being kidnapped for a ransom that would never come. He didn't want anyone to adore him or force themselves to be around. He'd rather be alone than have people kissing up to him. He might as well be alone. Rhodey never had time for him while he lived his life - Rhodey at a military academy living his dream. His friend couldn't even be bothered to make time for him, a simple phone call would suffice. Tony couldn't blame him. He was insufferable to be around.

     Tony had to push the dark thoughts away when the closet door swung open. He shied from the hallway lights. He blinked dazedly when a shadowed figure stopped in front of him. When he regained his sight, Tony paled at the sight of Barnes. He was from That table. He was in That group. The Gang, he liked to call them. The closest group of people Tony had ever seen. They were like a family. At least, what Tony thought a family could look like. He shook his head minutely. Enough with the sad thoughts. He had a guest. 

     "Stark. What the hell are you doing in here?" Barnes asked. Tony wanted to know how he always managed to sound bored with everything. If he could gather the courage and basic brain functions to have an actual conversation with any of them. The closest he's come with is with Bruce, but he had science as a distraction. The Gang didn't like when he talked to the boy. They didn't want him to taint Bruce or something. He didn't know what he did, and he didn't know how to fix it. Barnes continued to stare at him with his emotionless eyes. Tony wondered if there was something he was missing. How could someone hide their emotions so flawlessly? Tony blinked when he realized he hadn't answered.

     "I...uh," Tony said eloquently. 

     Barnes didn't even smile. His lips turned down into the one expression Tony has been capable of causing. He only smiled around Rogers, and even that was rare. How'd he even end up in that group? Tony jumped. "Get out, kid." 

     He held back a flinch at the words - "No one wants you here, Anthony - and swallowed. Tony didn't need to be told twice. Barnes was double his size and could easily crush him. So could Rogers and that Thor guy. It's such a weird name. Thor. Must be Nordic. Or Icelandish. He narrowed his train of thought to the now and Tony scrambled to his feet when Barnes crossed his arms, his football muscles flexing intimidatingly. Tony's tongue knotted itself and he sped off to his next class. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he scolded. 

     "That is something we both can agree on, Tony."

     Tony audibly groaned at the sight of Hammer. "I was talking about you." Tony pulled a face. "Hold up, do you ever take a break from being a pain in my ass? I thought to hit you upside the head with a metal tray might knock some sense into you, but I was mistaken. Seriously, I'm starting to think you have a crush on me." Hammer's face turned a bright shade of red. Tony hit his palm with his fist. "Ah, did I hit the nail on the head? It's okay, you can join the long list of beauties. It might take a couple of years to get to your number, but know you have a shot." He tapped Hammer's back. "Don't forget that and keep the courting to a minimum, please."

     Hammer gaped at him and Tony took it as his chance to slink into class. Granted, he missed the first half, but it was worth it to see Hammer's face. Tony snorted at the image and sneaked off to his seat. The teacher glared at him and continued his lecture. Tony leaned back and settled on the desk. He hadn't noticed before Jarvis sent him to voicemail, but his phone was pressed against his leg like a ton of bricks. A constant reminder that he had no one. In reality, his meager contacts consisted of Jarvis, Rhodey, and Howard. He didn't have anyone else to talk to or who'd want to talk to him. His life really...sucked. That word seemed to fit; it summed everything up in a nice bow. His life sucked, and he couldn't do anything about it. It was fact and he'd have to live with it until the end of time. He'd messed up at MIT, now he was at S.H.E.I.L.D. where everyone hated his entire existence. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and fall off the face of the earth.

     He missed his mother. He missed being able to think for himself without the feeling of Howard breathing down his neck, controlling his every move like a puppet master. He missed Before; After was terrible.

     He missed Jarvis more. 

     He missed his Honeybear.

     They probably didn't even think about him.