Endeavour Nikolas Stark is perfectly fine as is.
As a child he had been extraordinary, finding a home among the friendliest of people at Charles Xavier's School For the Gifted, and finding himself Gifted in many ways just beyond the X-Gene in his DN...
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It is either blazing hot, or freezing cold.
Tony Stark had always been careful with the care of his son.
From the moment that he had first seen his son in the NICU Ward of the hospital, Tony was undoubtedly in love.
His son was born impossibly small at three pounds three ounces and with little tuffs of dark brown hair and bright mismatched eyes. He looked like his father save for the eyes, and as he grew it was nearly the same.
After not having a healthy relationship with his own father growing up, it was difficult at first for Tony Stark to understand what exactly to do. As most of Tony's life as a child was full of some sort of negative comment from Howard Stark always, and Maria Stark sometimes. The only thing that he could be sure of, was that his son would not be raised the same way.
Tony had cried the moment he saw his son, his name slipping through his lips before he could really thing about it.
Endeavour Nikolas Stark.
The lights in the hospital had flickered ever so slightly as if the name brought power into the room.
Little did Tony know of the truth behind this feeling.
Three hours later both Howard and Maria Stark had died in a fiery car accident on the side of the road, never having the chance to meet their beautiful grandson or even know of his existence. Tony had cried for the loss of his mother and for the wonderful little boy with tubes and wires sticking into his too small chest.
Tony's parents' funeral had been a flashy affair that Tony had attended for all of a half hour. Just enough to give a brief eulogy, receive a few apologies, and be back before his son even realized he was gone. Though, his son had barely been conscious since the day of his birth.
It was all to reminiscent of his sons current status.
The boy had been in and out of consciousness for the past few hours, the hot Afghan sun did not help and Tony's own injuries ached just below the skin. His concern for his son extended much further than just being cautious with carrying him. He jostled Nikolas every now and then or spoke softly to wake him up and be sure that he was still coherent.
Nikolas could not speak at the moment, the overwhelming events and sheer pain that he was in stopping him from being verbal. But Tony did not mind, though he did consider the brief though of Nikolas' not being able to find his words after they were rescued.
As he trudged through the hot sand, Tony could not help but think of times years ago.
When Obadiah Stane was in charge of Stark International and Tony solely focused on raising his son. It had been a learning curve, as the doctors were able to give him vague pointers on raising a disabled child but most of them insisted he give Nikolas up for adoption.
The fact that Nikolas had been born premature had led to a list of long term health defects; breathing difficulties due to under formed lungs and an inability to regulate his body temperature long term. He had been quick to walking and running, and had taken to building the same way that Tony had as a child and the older Stark willingly nurtured this talent in his son.
The health of his son had always been a concern and when his son was four years old Tony had built a monitoring protocol to help be sure that he would always know exactly how he was.
It was a little skin tight black bangle that his son wore on his left wrist. The bangle was an inch wide and held a small piece of tech in it directly linked to Jarvis back home. Nikolas wore it every day, and it gave Jarvis the ability to monitor his oxygen intake, heart rate, body temperature, and other things that could have a negative affect on his health.
Tony could see the bangle now, clear as day sitting over the newest tattoo addition to Nikolas' collection. The curious thought of what his son had meant by 'it is a weapon' crossed his mind as he glanced at it.
It was the humming of a helicopter's blades that drew his attention from reminiscing about his sons gifts.
Tony lifted his head high scanning the air in a hopeful, yet still cautious, way.
He could have cried.
"Here! I'm here!" He screamed it loud, doing his best to wave his hand and catch the helicopter pilots attention. Tony quickly bent, setting his son on the ground at his feet and lifting his hands high above his head.
Tony jumped up and down, waving his hands aggressively and hollering in a joyful way once the helicopter started to make a descent towards the sandy ridge he stood on. He collapsed to his knees beside his son, pressing a hand to Nikolas' cheeks as he tried to catch his son's attention.
"We are gonna be okay Nikolas!" He nearly shouted it, looking up and grinning as he locked eyes with the one man he could not be happier to see. "Rhodey!"
The Colonel in question laughed joyfully, bending at the knees and setting a heavy hand on his oldest friends shoulder as he smiled. "How was the fun-vee?" It was sarcastic, but the humor fell from his face the moment he saw Nikolas at the closer distance. "Oh god Tony."
The panic set in. Tony's hands were shaking as he reached for the cotton shirt covering the bullet wound. "He was shot, on our escape, and uh- and, and his leg. I don't know what-"
When Rhodey interrupted, it was more welcomed than anything else. "We've got him Tony."
The elder Stark tipped backwards, falling into the sand behind him as he let himself relax for the first time in months.
Rhodey was careful when he lifted Nikolas from the ground, smiling down at the pair of Starks as he stood.
