Note: I put English translations in stars below the stuff that's not in English*

Before there's been Happy, before there's been Pepper, and before there'd been Rhodey, there'd been Park.

Tony had, from a young age, never really been the amiable type, and so grade school wasn't exactly a friend fest. The first-few years were easy—Howard hired a tutor for his son, allowing Tony to avoid the whole friendship ordeal. Until the awful, awful year of fourth grade. Tony's mother decided enough was enough, and Tony would never be able to live up to his true potential if he lacked social skills.

Thus began the worst experience of 9-year-old Tony's life: elementary school. By the end of the first month of this cruel and unusual torture, it became apparent that public education was not going to cut it, and Tony was moved to a gifted school. While the lunches were less suspect to cause cancer, everything else stayed mainly the same. Tony had absolutely no interest in conversing with his classmates, and he openly mocked them, leading to multiple chastising and a detention. School was miserable.

That all changed in seventh grade with the arrival of Parker Thomas. 

Parker's parents had gone through a rather gruesome divorce, and his father dragged Park to New York in an attempt to keep him from his mom. Park hated English, and while he was fully capable of speaking it perfectly, he opted for a deeply accented franglais, mainly to be a little shit.

French was the most lacking of the school's subjects, which was saying something, and the teachers decided to try to never talk to him so they wouldn't have to hear his migraine-inducing English.

Now, I have to stress that an experienced ear would be able to tell that Park was purposely butchering English as the words he 'didn't know' and replaced with French had no order, and he would randomly forget whatever he wanted. This mustn't be held against him; he was only twelve, and that's not many years to be able to develop a knack for proper bullshitting.

Something that had developed by the age of twelve was Tony's pride. Upon meeting Park, Tony decided that he would not have someone be able to insult him to his face if he could do anything about it, and there was plenty to do about it. Within two weeks, Stark could pass as a native Parisian, and this is when he approached Park for the first time.

Both boys were severely lacking in the abilities to hold a conversation, much less start one, and Tony found the most difficult part of the whole operation was figuring out how to talk to Park. It ended up that Park really talked to him first.

In the third period, a tedious math class, Tony got fed up and threw a crumpled up paper ball at his target. He and Park were in the most advanced class, and both of them found it excruciatingly boring. Park had no qualms with dieting the lesson.

"Putain!" Park roared, whipping the paper back at Tony. 

Figuring Park would be more interested if he responded in French, Tony did not shout, "The fuck did you just say to me?" In English. 

Park's entire figure changed, and he seemed to relax for a moment. Just as suddenly, he flashed back to fury. "Let's pretend to have a big fight and go to the principal's office. This class is boring," yelled Park.

"D'accord." Tony suppressed an urge to grin. "Throw a pencil at me."

"Throw your own pencil." 

Tony raised an eyebrow, something he'd spent an embarrassing amount of time practicing when he was ten, and slammed his entire full pencil sharpener on Park desk. "How about a discorporated pencil?"

"GO TO THE OFFICE NOW! BOTH OF YOU!" The teacher's face was beyond red. 

By the time the boys reached the hallway, they couldn't contain their laughter.

"Je m'appelle Park. Et toi?"

"Tony."

The principal eyed Tony wearily. He knew a little about the French one, but Tony was by far the student he most frequently saw, and he'd started seeing the prodigy as his son. The French one was reported to be a genius as well though. It was fitting that they'd become friends, though the principal had been hoping for this to make Tony better, not make the other kid worse. Besides, Tony had been doing a good job of staying out of the principal's office.

"Hey Tony. And you are...?" The principal asked.

"Park."

"Well then, Park, Tony. what are you here for?"

"Our teacher de maths got mad parce que il was teaching and nous weren't paying attention." Tony smiled inwardly, realizing he understood every word Park had said. Outside, he nodded seriously, pretending that Park's explanation was completely understandable. 

*Our math teacher got mad because he was teaching, and we weren't paying attention*

"Tony, can you tell me."

"I pense Park a dit what happened," Tony murmured, smiling innocently. "Our teacher de maths got mad parce que il was teaching and nous weren't paying attention. C'est how you say ça, is it not? This is anglais?"

*I think Park said what happened//Our math teacher got mad because he was teaching and we weren't paying attention. That's how you say it, is it not? This is English?*

The poor principal, not even knowing a latin-based language, was ready to believe that he had lost the ability to understand half of English.

"Es-tu okay?" Tony managed to look genuinely concerned. 

*Are you okay*

"Are you malade?" Park cocked his head to the side.

*Are you sick*

"Wha-Are you speaking English?"

"What?" Park turned to Tony, and in fairly accented, but otherwise perfect English, said, "Is he having a stroke."

"Il ne can pas speak English. C'est possible."

*He cannot speak English. It's possible.*

Park turned to the principle. "Est-ce que you pouvez see clearly?" In response, the principle just laid his head on the desk and moaned. "Je think il a besoin de l'water."

*Are you able to see clearly?//I think he needs water.*

"L'water?" Tony teased. "C'est grammar magnifique."

*That's magnificent grammar*

"Je mon fou. Get de l'eau."

*I don't care, get the water."

----------------

The rest of the year progressed similarly, though this was the only time the principal would fall for their stroke trick. By the time school let out for the summer, the diner near their apartments knew Tony and Park and their orders by heart. 

Neither one liked being home much, and they stayed out as late as they could every night. All the local store owners knew them pretty well. In contrast to school, the two boys were very well behaved when they went out. There had been the time they'd been told off for launching a  miniature rocket in the park, and when they tested a smoke bomb in the park, and when they'd  started building a one room house in the park... 

Come to thank about it, the parks and rec department also knew the boys, though they weren't exactly fond of them.

--------------

One afternoon in mid August, Tony and Park were plopped over chairs in the library, reading neuroscience studies when a woman burst in and ran up to Park. Whatever combination of emotions she was feeling, it seemed so complicated even she did not know how to express herself.

"Parker!"

"Maman?" Park looked up and nodded before returning to his reading.

*mom*

Tony had been subjected to many of Park's furious rant about his family. His mother was a alcoholic, but more importantly a bitch, and his father was practically in love with Park's older brother, who had died three years ago. Park and Tony were actually quite functional in this way because besides being best friends, they doubled as each other's therapists since they both had horrible family issues.

"Parker, regarder-moi! Je suis ta mère!"

*Parker, look at me! I'm your mom!*

"Comment est-ce que je peux regarder-toi quand tu salement regardes l'alcool?"

*How can I look at you when all you look at is alcohol?*

Tony bit his lip, resisting a smile. Part of it was that this was funny, but he was also proud of his friend for speaking his mind since Park could be very non-confrontational.

"JE SUIS TA MÈRE!" Park's mom shrieked.

*I am your mother*

Several people looked up and politely went back to what they were doing, a general hush fell over the room, only interrupted by page turning and Park's mom's furious breaths.

"Shhhh, maman. C'est une bibliothèque."

*Shh mom, this is a library.*

"Viens avec moi!" The mom snapped.

*Come with me*

This time, people's glances were less innocent, and someone even made a shushing noise. A few library-goers had abandoned their books completely and were watching the scene.

"Pardon, madame Thomas, mais nous sommes en train de lire maintenant. Il a un livre très intéressant. Je new pense pas que tu veux un fil stupide, non?" Tony said. 

*Excuse me, Ms. Thomas, but we're reading right now. He has a very interesting book. I don't think you want a stupid son, right?"

He kept his tone polite sounding, and if you didn't understand him like most of the observers, you would think that Tony was merely being respectful and possibly trying to lighten the tension. Of coarse, if you knew French, you would realize Tony was not at all trying to lighten tensions at all and was just being a little shit.

"Est-il ton ami, Park?"

*Is he your friend, Park?*

Park's mom was nearly frothing at her mouth, and if Tony was not built up with extraordinary amounts of second hand hate for this woman, he would be thoroughly intimidated. 

"Partir," Tony growled.

*Leave*

"Tu ne pe-"

"Partir, maman. S'il te plaît."

*You ca-//Leave, mom. Please.*

Park's mom huffed and walked away, muttering about how kids were so insolent and that Park's father had ruined him. 

"Thanks, Tony."

----------------------

The next time Tony saw Park's mom was when she and Park's dad were pointing kitchen knives at each other. It was around 4:00 pm, far before Park usually went home. Now that they were fourteen, Park's let him stay out until twelve, and Tony's parents usually didn't care enough to notice when Tony came home.

They'd both ran out of money, and Parker was sneaking into his room to get some more. Sneaking in through the door, while safer, was much more unsuccessful, so Tony and Park had taken to going through the window. While they were there, Tony decided to sneak into the kitchen for food because if they were there, they might as well get free food, when he saw Park's parents with their knives in front of the stove.

"Park," Tony murmured. Tony wanted to hiss, but he had a strict policy of not to do anything sen vaguely threatening to Park since his father already did that all the time, and Park sort of shied away now when anyone yelled at him.

Park popped his head around the corner, grinning, but he immediately became serious when he saw his parents. Park shoved Tony back and tumbled into the kitchen. His parents pt down their knives and started directed their anger at Park. 'What are you doing? Stop getting into things you don't understand! Charles, you raised him to be like this!"

"I wouldn't have to raise him if you'd actually done anything!"

"Do you see the kids he hangs out with! The insolent shits!"

"Tony? His father's Howard Stark."

"Yeah well I see why they get along, seeing as both their fathers are full of themselves!"

Park started to back towards the door, until his parents noticed and yelled at him more. Tony thought the worst thing was when your parents didn't care about you, but he would prefer that a thousand times more than having your parents care about you like this.

--------------

Around 3:00am, Tony heard a tapping on his window, and he rolled over to see Park. Park's eyes were read and tears were still streaming down his face. He wiped them away self-consciously.

"Want food?" Last October, Park had confessed to Tony that he was always happier when he spoke in English because his parents talked to him in French, and no one had ever gotten truly mad at him in English. After that, Tony only spoke in French when Park seemed too tired to speak his second language.

As it turned out, Park's parents had stabbed and killed each other, and Park was taken into child services. Tony pestered his father unendingly to adopt him, but Howard hated Park about as much as Park's mom hated Tony. 

-------------

2:59 am May 3, 2020

Tony checked his watch impatiently, waiting for the second hand to reach the twelve.

Finally 3:00 am on the dot. Tony knocked on the window. 

Tony had liked Spiderman from the beginning. It wasn't because his brains or skills and charisma, but because his last name was Parker. Since Germany, it had become that Tony would think of Peter when he heard someone say Parker. Like Peter and reminded him of Parker, Parker now reminded him of his dead son.

Someone had once told him everyone would die because he didn't do enough. Not everyone had died, but half his world had. Pepper was pregnant, and even though he was ecstatic for a daughter, it felt like he was replacing Peter. All this emotions mixed with Tony's exhaustion, so when Parker opened the window, Tony was crying. A complete reverse of what had happened 35 years ago.

"Want food?"