December 16th was not a happy day in the Stark household. It was the day Maria Collins Carbonell Stark was taken from them in a devastating car crash. Her son was also in the car, but he survived, much to the chagrin of his father. Tony had to make sure to steer clear of Howard as best as he could today. It was always a futile attempt, but he'd try nonetheless. He blinked at the ceiling and held a hand on his bruised torso. He exhaled shakily and turned on his side. He cursed his memory as images flipped through his mind's eye at breakneck speed. His mother stumbling around with a wine bottle in her fluffy purple robe, her being lucid enough on an early summer Saturday to play chess with him, and her blinding smile as she planned a charity function for her foundation. It was painful and he could feel tears building up. He missed his mother so much that it hurt to breathe. He picked at the long scar on his left wrist. He'd gotten it from cutting himself on the shattered window as he crawled from the wreck. It had hurt for-

Tony jumped when his phone rang, wincing as it aggravated his middle. He fished it off the table. His smile broadened at the caller ID. He could be sad later because Rhodey was calling now. "Honeybear! How's it cracking?"

A deep chuckled sounded from the speaker. Tony cupped his chin and leaned on his leg. He was anxious. Rhodey was calling. He was talking to Rhodey after months of radio silence and it was like he'd never left. Rhodey rattled off about how different military school was from public school. Tony pretended not to notice when he talked about his new friends. He blamed the pain in his gut on the bruises instead of Rhodey's excitement. When Rhodey asked about Tony, he didn't give him any details. Rhodey could sense he was holding back, but he didn't push. That's why Tony loved his Honeybear. He knew how to handle him better than he could handle himself. He promised he'd be home for winter break and told Tony to keep his schedule open. "How's Howard?" he asked, serious.

Tony bit his lip. He hated lying to Rhodey, but if his best friend knew how pathetic he was... And it wasn't like Howard was terrible. It was just the stress from the death hitting him, making him more irritable with Tony. He still loved him, and Tony loved Howard right back. Everything was different Before, but his feelings were the same even in After. Howard was his father and he was his son; nothing could ever change that. He still remembered the scarce times Howard smiled and ruffled his hair or took time out of work to speak with him. Granted, it was always a lecture on what he could do better, but at least they talked a bit. Now, in the After, he barely saw Howard unless he was angry or disappointed. Tony couldn't put that weight on anyone. Even though he felt sick doing it, Tony compiled a sort-of truth. "His usual distant self. Enough about him. How's military school? Are you going to be a little toy soldier?"

As Rhodey complained about the early rising and the meals, Tony felt the warmest he had in a long time. Just talking with Rhodey made him feel infinitely better. He didn't think about how lonely he was or the newfound dependency he had put in his sweatshirts. He didn't think about how hard it was to recall the last full meal he had or how much he had saved for new bandages. He listened actively while his friend talked, trying hard not to interrupt as he played with his sleeve. Tony smirked. "Oh, my Honeybear has muscles now?" he teased. "Keep getting in trouble and you can come beat up some footballers for me with those bad boys."

"Are they bothering you again?" Tony bit his lip at the worried tone. He ran a hand through his hair. Crap, he said the wrong thing. Rhodey wasn't supposed to be worried. He should be enjoying his time away as much as he could, but Tony always managed to drag little pieces of him away. He was being selfish, but he wished Rhodey would just hurry up and come home for good. "Tony, tell me the truth."

"No. Um, they're not bothering me again. Some of them just, uh, scared me recently. That's it. I swear." The phone was silent for a pregnant pause. Tony chewed the string of his hoodie and waited. He was doing it wrong. The "friend thing". He was messing up and Rhodey had to be getting annoyed. He got lucky at MIT because Rhodey had to see him. But now, he was away and could drop him like a hat if he chose. Was he figuring out a way to let Tony down easy right now? Or was it going to be like ripping off a band-aid?

"Okay," Rhodey breathed. Tony relaxed back into the pillows. "Now, how are you?"

Tony sat up too quickly and hissed. Pain exploded across his torso and he bit back a whimper. His hand flew up to his mouth and he breathed harshly into his palm. Rhodey was calling for him over the phone, but he had to refocus his vision and calm his breathing. Tony cleared his throat and grimaced. He knew the right answer to this question. "I'm fine, Honeybear. Always am, always will be. What could be wrong with Tony Stark?"

"Do you want me to answer that?" Rhodey deadpanned.

Tony chuckled. "No, definitely not." He glanced at the time. Crap, he was late. He debated on avoiding Natasha forever, but he gave in when he realized it was a final grade. "Uh, hey, Honeybear. I have to go, er, school project."

"Oh." Rhodey paused. "Alright, I might not be able to call for a few days. But I'll be back for winter break. Promise."

The line clicked dead before Tony could respond. He gaped at the blank screen before shaking his head. Tony went through the motions with extra care. His wrapped torso scratched against his turtleneck and he leaned against the wall to steady himself when his vision became too blurry. He blinked rapidly before shuffling down the stairs. He walked out the door without a word and headed to the library. Tony shivered in the soft breeze kicking up the straggling dead leaves. Snow glittered on the ground and Tony gulped. It always snowed today. It seemed like the frozen vapor was out to get him. To grab him by the throat and take his air away as he remembered the iced roads and his mother's smile. He wrapped his arms around him as tight as possible before he winced.

Tony jogged across the empty street and brushed past strangers briskly. He was already late, so grabbing coffee couldn't hurt. The line was short, and in no time he had two cups of steaming caffeine. He worried his lip between his teeth as he stared at the second cup. He didn't know how Natasha liked her coffee, but he tried not to make it too bitter or too sweet. The cardboard tray was jostled and dangerously tipped, but Tony steadied it and excused himself to the stranger. A white brick building came up, large windows showing him shelves stacked with books and the circulation desk. He pressed a hand to the glass door of the library and pushed, eyes immediately scanning for the redhead.

Tony waved at Natasha and she frowned. He took a step back when she came forward. "I know I'm late," he blurted. "But I was hoping I could make it up with coffee?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "I thought you couldn't have food or drinks in the library."

"You can if you're me," Tony said. Natasha's brows rose and he flushed. He shook his head quickly, wincing at the lingering headache. He needed to pick up some antibiotics for his fever on the way home. "Not like that! I just meant that I-I'm sort-of friends with the librarian. I-I don't have special privileges because I'm rich or anything." His voice had gotten softer until it was a hairsbreadth louder than a whisper.

Natasha nodded and Tony relaxed at her blank face. She swiped the coffee cup in the left hole and Tony bit his lip. "Is this not mine?" She asked before her lips touched the lid.

"It is. I-I just...I didn't know how you liked your coffee, but I tried to make it normal. I can, um, buy you another if it's no good." He dug his sneaker into the grey carpet and sipped on his brew. Tony shivered as warmth started to spread through his body. He peeked up to see Natasha tilt the cup back. Her face didn't reveal how she was feeling - as usual - but considering she hadn't thrown it across the room or spat in disgust he called it a win. "Is it good?"

"It's different. A good different," she added at the sight of his fallen face.

Tony smiled tentatively and beckoned for her to follow. He waved at the librarian, Mr. Yinsen, before heading through to the main section. Bookshelves lined the floor as far as the eye could see and study tables stood unoccupied all around them. Tony ignored the quizzical look Natasha gave him and kept walking deeper into the old building. The smell of books and ink seemed to wrap around him and fill his senses. The quietness was serene and he was glad he'd chosen the library. He hadn't been able to visit in a while. This was a good chance to see his safe place. Before they got any farther, Tony spun around.

"Can I trust you, Natasha?" He stared right above her eyes and searched for the slightest shift of her facial features. She nodded curtly and he beamed. Tony clapped and swept his arms back. "Good. Well, welcome to my sanctuary," he announced. A mountain of cushions was strewn meticulously around the ground for optimal comfort. They were at a hidden alcove in the back of the library that Mr. Yinsen left just for him. The librarian was very nice and he didn't question it when Tony disappeared here for hours. He could remember when Mr. Yinsen would let him sleep here if nights were bad with Howard. He was so grateful and now they had an agreement. Tony could have this place to himself if no one found it, all he had to do is keep Mr. Yinsen friendly company from time to time and help shelve books.

"Wow," she exhaled. "This place is amazing." She pinched a green pillow on top of the pile. Tony hummed and hung back. His eyes widened as he watched Natasha move around. Would she invite her friends here? Would he have to find a new place to hide? He liked where he was; he didn't want to move and start over. Tony smoothed out the pillows and sat down beside Natasha. "Good thing you found it first. It's nice to have a place to relax by yourself. A safe place." Tony nodded stiffly and tapped on his cup. "I promise it'll stay that way," she assured.

Tony released the tension in his shoulders. Natasha had basically told him she would keep this place confidential and he wanted to thank her. Tony looked away and nodded. Natasha sat poised on the pillows and pulled out her laptop. She frowned as her fingers flew across the keys. She closed her eyes and pinched her nose. Tony leaned over until he was almost falling into her lap. The screen was flickering and going in and out. "The coffee," he mumbled. "I can fix it." He looked up just as Natasha pursed her lips. He scrambled out of her bubble. "O-Only if you want me to. I need you laptop, but I-I swear it won't take that long."

"Okay." Her green eyes trailed over him. " I want to watch."

Tony flinched slightly before nodding. Of course, she wanted to make sure he didn't tamper with her tech. She shook her head and Tony sank deeper into the cushions. He pulled Natasha's laptop beside him. Natasha placed her hands on her hips and watched from afar. Tony ignored her and pressed down the power button. "Always try shutting it down before starting the nitty-gritty," he explained. Natasha's eyes settled on the dark screen. Her eyes trailed to Tony and he looked away. "It won't take long, as I said." The two settled back into silence as the computer whirred and clicked.

"The great Tony Stark likes to hang out in libraries?" she drawled. Her green eyes were piercing and Tony was intent on avoiding them.

He picked at his left wrist. "Um, they're quiet. And I have a pretty good deal going on with the librarian, not to brag." He smiled cheekily and changed to pulling on his sleeve. "Why? Is that disappointing?"

"No," she replied. Natasha propped herself against a bookshelf, still the epitome of grace and sharpness he knew her for. "And it's not that surprising. Books and genius go hand in hand."

"That's what I've been telling people!" He giggled as he turned the laptop over and popped out the battery. "Hey, did you try to get as much liquid out as possible?" She nodded slowly. "Can you say what you did exactly? Don't be shy with the details."

Natasha frowned. "I sopped it up with a paper towel and turned it on its side to let gravity do its job."

Tony hummed. "Great, that makes this way easier. Anyway, If those idiots at S.H.E.I.L.D just studied more instead of whatever it is that they do in their free time, they wouldn't have to ask for my help so much. That would be amazing," he sighed.

"Students ask you for help?" Tony stopped messing with the casing. "But doesn't everyone hate you? Why would they ask you?"

"First of all, ouch. Second, it's because I'm a genius. Tony Stark knows all the answers. If he's not good enough to know, he's good enough to exploit. Just comes with the new territory, I guess." He shrugged. "I'm used to it. So it's not that big of a deal." Natasha hummed and the computer screen remained dark. Tony hated the oppressing silence and twisted his sleeve. "Did you start researching? For the project?"

Natasha cut her eyes to him. She nodded and crossed her arms. Tony sank deeper into the seat. She didn't want to talk. Of course, Romanoff didn't want to talk to him. If she had Barton as her partner they'd be chatting up a storm, but she was stuck with him. She could at least act as if she liked it. No, he couldn't expect her to do that for his sake. She shouldn't pretend to like him and get his hopes up. He chewed on his lip as they waited. Natasha got up and moved around like a predator stalking its prey. She grazed her hands over the spines of dusty books and measured the domain with her steps. At least, that's what Tony imagined she'd be doing if she was a super spy. He chanced a better look at her. Natasha could pass as a secret spy, especially with her ballerina-esque grace that never seemed to leave. She was stunning, an obvious man-killer, and extremely calculating. Her ability to lie and read others dwarfed his own. It scared Tony to think about how she's working to figure him out. He ignored the nagging voice saying he wanted someone to find out and to help.

Tony wiped down the battery with his shirt before popping it back into place. He drummed his knees when the restart noise sounded. Natasha glanced back before resuming her search along the shelves. Tony's lip twitched and his fingers quickly flew across the keyboard. He double-checked the CPU and sighed. Natasha fell beside him and he swallowed dryly as she leaned forward. "Is it fixed?"

"One working Macbook for a Miss Natasha Romanoff." He handed the device off. "Should be good as before. If I had more time I could make it better."

Natasha turned the laptop in her hands. She mumbled under her breath. "What did I miss?"

"Oh, well, it wasn't anything big. You probably didn't think to check the battery. It's fine. Rookie mistake. Could happen to anyone." His face exploded with color when Natasha stared at him with cool indifference. "Oh. Was it rhetorical?"

She chuckled and flicked his forehead. "Let us focus on the project, yes?"

Tony hummed and scooted the tiniest bit closer. He didn't want to intrude, but his sanctuary was better when it was quieter. They talked in hushed tones with only the clicking sound of the keyboard signaling their presence. If anyone looked, they'd see two friends chatting around a laptop. Natasha somehow ended up lying on Tony's thigh with the laptop balanced on her lap. He flipped through a book about Curie, relaying important information that she typed away. It felt nice to bring someone into his safe place.

When the sun began to fall and a heavy shower of snow began to beat down, Mr. Yinsen came to the back to check on them. The old man laughed heartily at the surprise on their faces and shuffled back to his desk. He told Tony to lock up and left them in the dark. Light from the street streamed through the bay windows. Natasha packed her laptop and pulled out her phone. Tony stared out the window apprehensively. Powdery snow covered every inch of the sidewalk and ice shined on the pavement. His stomach clenched and he stepped away. He lost his mother because of an icy road and an idiotic driver. He didn't want to walk home, but Howard was not going to pick him up. Even if he did, he'd rather jump off of a building than get in a car while it was snowing. He glanced at Natasha and frowned.

They walked toward the front doors in silence and the keys jingled in Tony's hand. Natasha cupped her hands under her armpits when cold air rushed threw the open doors. Tony shivered in his pullover and pulled it tighter. Snow coated his lashes and he twitched. He quickly swiped it away and pulled his hood up. Snow fell down in coats and he backed up until his palms scraped on the bricks. Natasha flicked her eyes at him just as Barton's Mercedes slowed to a stop. The engine rumbled and the headlight illuminated the street. Natasha swung open the door. Barton yelled something indistinguishable and she scoffed.

"Do you need a ride, Tony?" His head shot up and he pressed closer to the wall. He shook his head quickly. "Are you sure? You can't go catching a cold on me." Jokes on her, he's had a fever for days. He perked up at the thought of buying his antibiotics. "Don't go trying to get out of the project now."

"N-No," he said. "I...I'm fine, Natasha."

"You're sure you're sure?" She pressed. Barton had gone silent and he wondered if he could hear everything. Her green eyes were big and glistening, and his heart pulled. The car would be warmer than walking anyway. His toes were going numb in his sneakers. He could handle the short ride. He didn't need any more convincing when the wind picked up, pushing snow and cold air through his hood. Tony pried himself from the side of the library and trudged toward the car. "He's not going to murder you. You look like you're marching to your death," she whispered. Natasha disappeared inside the vehicle with a taunting smile.

Tony chuckled uneasily and opened the door. "Took you long enough, Tasha. I could feel the heat being sucked out of my car with each passing second. What were doing talking to Stark junior? He lives in a perfect little bubble, doesn't he? C'mon, you have to tell me his dirty secrets," he whined. Barton huffed and hit the steering wheel. Tony made himself as small as possible as he slid into the back row. Barton's eyes were on him in an instant but Natasha put a hand on his arm. His blue eyes flicked to her and she shook her head. "Why is he in my car?" he growled.

"It was cold and you have a car." She shrugged and shook the snow from her hair. "We're being hospitable."

Barton scowled. "You can be hospitable in someone else's car. I don't want Stark all over my back seat."

Tony flinched. His breath caught - Blood dripping from the floor of the car and the stench of guts fills his nostrils. Everything is upside down and he can't figure out where he is in the darkness. The seatbelt unclipped and he falls into the mutilated form of his mother - and he fought the rising bile. Tony's hands trembled so badly it looked like he was having a seizure. He held the seatbelt in a tight grip, and when it clicked into the mechanism he didn't let go. His face felt drained of color and his body was vibrating.

"Just drive. I'll cook you something if you take him home." Tony's eyes flicked everywhere, never settling on one place for too long. He had to make sure the car was right side up and the floor wasn't the roof. He checked under the seat and he gasped in pain. He covered his ears and shut his eyes, barely feeling the rocking motion as he focused on breathing. He couldn't panic in front of them again. He wouldn't panic in front of them again. Natasha turned in her seat. "Ton-"

"I'm fine," he snapped. He was still trembling, but he managed to steady his breathing to a regular pace. "I'm fine. I'm fine," he chanted.

Something opened and closed, shaking the car roughly. Tony cried out - The car is skidding around the road, the tires unable to find traction on the ice. Tony holds onto the seatbelt tightly and a copper taste fills his mouth. The car bumps and metal screams and then they're flipping, again and again - and he buried his face in his knees. He didn't want to get into another accident. He clawed for the door, flinching violently when his wrist was grabbed. "Not again! Not again!" he sobbed.

Then he was being shushed and rocked, and he felt warm all over as tears slid down his swollen cheeks. Arms were wrapped around him, but he wasn't being suffocated and he didn't feel trapped. It was closer to a hug and he hid his face from view. The car jerked and he whimpered. The sound of snow crunching under tires echoed around his head and he gripped his hoodie tightly. "Keep going, Clint. He's bringing you home, Tony. Try breathing for me. Can you do that for me?"

His breath rattled as his chest rose and fell softly. Tony shook his head after his failed attempts only managed to frustrate him more. Why couldn't he do something as simple as breathing? He's been doing it since birth, but now his lungs decided they needed a break every now and then. His head was pounding, he was hot, and he was going numb. The car stopped again and cold air whooshed past his cheeks. His arms tingled in pain and he yelped. Air whooshed back into his lungs and he blinked dazedly.

Barton's eyes were filled with confusion and that blasted emotion: pity. Tony made to look away, but he was smothered in red hair. Natasha tucked her hair behind her ear. Tony scrambled out of her arms and pressed up against the car door. He rubbed the two red spots on his arms, coaxing feeling back into the limbs. "I pinched you," Barton said softly. "Can I drive or are you going to freak?" Tony cocked his head to the side at the lack of abrasiveness in his voice. He almost sounded...worried.

Tony sniffled. "I'm good. F-Feel free to drive. Just," he cowered behind the seatbelt, "don't drive too fast."

"That was too intense for it to be a normal anxiety attack. Did you have a flashback?" Natasha probed. Tony poked his lip out and stared at the seatbelt. Natasha placed a hand on his knee and he jerked. "I have them too. Do not be ashamed."

"Yes." He winced at the shakiness in his voice. "It was a flashback." The curiosity in Natasha's eyes washed over him and he sighed. "My mother died today."

"I know. I'm sorry." Natasha gave him a long look before leaning away and clipping on the seatbelt. Tony ran a hand up and down the fabric before pushing it into the mechanism. "But that's not it, right?"

Tony shook his head. "He lied."

"Who?" She asked in curiosity. Barton glanced at them in the mirror. The car wasn't moving any time soon.

"Howard. The news. He made them say she was just driving and sh-she was protecting me." He was getting choked up. "They lied. We were in a car crash, yes. And she did protect me. I still can't remember everything that happened, but she was drunk, bad."

Natasha blinked, the only change in her emotion. He leaned against the door and propped his chin on his hand. "Did she crash the car?"

He half-shrugged. "I guess. She sorta let go of the wheel prematurely to cover me, but there was another driver. Black truck, big fan of football. He died too." Tony jumped when a snowflake landed on the window. "Happened during a snowstorm or something. There was so much snow and ice, it was hard to see. I had been on my phone, typing away to Rhodey before it happened. I can't believe I didn't figure it out. I'm supposed to be a genius. She was crying and everything." He pressed his hot cheek to the window and sighed. "I crawled out and got this scar as the last memory of my mother as I waited for help."

"Tony-"

"Still think my life is perfect?" he snapped. Natasha clamped her lips shut and looked away. He swallowed dryly and scrubbed his eyes. He laughed darkly, cackling like a madman before his tears started again and he was an incomprehensible mess. Natasha pulled him into her lap and threaded her fingers in his hair. That's how they sat for well over an hour. With Natasha running her hands through Tony's hair and soothing him in sweet Russian, and Clint respectfully knowing his place and keeping the heat high, not bothering to drive. The snow fell around them as they sat parked outside the library.

Happy Anniversary, Maria.