"You do not hit, do you understand me? You do not hit, punch, kick, or throw anything at anybody. Tristan that is enough!"
Tony had emerged from the basement in search of a cup of coffee after his eyes had grown weary from working without a break all morning. What he didn't expect, however, was to walk straight into what sounded like a warzone.
Mila and Tristan were barely halfway up the stairs, Mila with a basket of unfolded laundry under her arm and her hand firmly tightened around Tristan's wrist while he screamed bloody murder at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Tony had witnessed a few of Tristan's tantrums, but he had never seen the child repeatedly clawing at his mother's arms or hitting her as she turned away her face.
"I'm not tired I don't want to go to sleep!"
Mila let out a heavy sigh as Tristan shouted in her face, pure anger and hatred written in the young boy's eyes that was enough to break Tony's heart to see, let alone for his mother to be face to face with.
Tony swallowed, feeling helpless at what to do but equally uncomfortable watching the scene unfold without anything to offer.
"Give that to me, here."
He grabbed the laundry basket from Mila who let him take it without hesitation, though couldn't find a spare breath to say a word to him. She picked up Tristan and carried him kicking and screaming up the stairs, the noise muffling once the bedroom door sealed them both inside.
Tony boiled the kettle and began to fold the laundry, making a strong coffee for himself and a tea with honey and lemon for Mila, hoping it would still be warm by the time she came back downstairs.
Tristan's screaming was still audible from upstairs, a mixture of screaming and crying which by that point were barely any different, though after around twenty minutes, silence fell across the house and Tony heard the door upstairs open and close.
He threw away the cold cup of tea and began making a fresh one once Mila began to quietly pad down the stairs, though she didn't approach him in the kitchen, instead walking straight out of the front door and down onto the wooden dock by the lake.
Tony watched for a moment, though felt cruel standing by and doing nothing when he saw Mila drop her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried alone by the water, instantly making his stomach drop at the scene.
He followed her outside, walking coyly towards her with his hands in his pockets, an awkwardness about approaching her as he tried to think about what to say to a woman who was clearly just exhausted.
"Hey," Tony whispered, "Hey, Mila, you wanna talk to me?"
Mila sniffed and wiped her eyes when Tony joined her on the dock, her hands on her hips as she looked up to the sky to try and dry her tears, taking a few deep breaths in to settle her lungs and her heart, her entire body still feeling like it was fighting a battle even though Tristan had eventually gone down for a nap.
"I love him," she said, shaking her head, "I love him more than anything but my God does he test me some days."
She squeezed her eyes shut and stood still for a moment, Tony reflecting in the silence. It was midday and the sun was high in the sky, the first day of Spring being just a week away. Leaves had started to reappear on the trees and a few flowers had bloomed, the sun was a rough warmer and the days were getting longer, the darkness of night not creeping in till around six-thirty in the evening.
"Do you think it's my fault?" Mila said, turning to look at Tony, "Do you think if he'd had a father he would be different? You think he wouldn't rebel as much and hit and kick me? Do you think I should've tried harder with his father, should I have done things differently with him or maybe I-"
"No, God no, please don't think like that, Mila. You are an incredible mother and he is so lucky to have someone that cares about him and loves him like you do."
Mila stared at Tony with watery eyes and a quivering bottom lip. Her chest was rising and falling in an unstable pattern and he could hear her erratic breathing, a head full of worries and concerns and hatred towards herself that was most definitely unsolicited, one that made Tony's heart sink.
Tony had known Mila Campbell had a pure soul from their first encounter. She took him in in a time of need and took care of him on top of that. She never made him feel like a burden and always made sure he was eating and drinking enough and that his wounds were patched up.
After living with her for what was almost a month, he had only seen the goodness shine even brighter. She cleaned his home, did his laundry, made dinner and ironed his shirts even after insisting she didn't need to do anything of the sort.
Mila always asked how his day was, she asked about work and if his colleagues were all alright, she made sure Tony knew that she cared about him and told him every single day just how grateful she was for letting them stay at his home, even though by that point, Tony felt as though he was more grateful to have them there.
She made him laugh without trying and brightened his day, enjoying the strange and wonderful things they'd end up talking about at the dinner table or after Tristan had gone to bed. Mila was a good person. Her aura was golden and to Tony, it felt good to have a friend that wasn't a superhero, someone who made him feel like himself whenever he was around them.
"H-he just keeps asking for these toys and books from home and I can't give them to him and he doesn't understand why. He gets mad at me for not being able to give him what he wants and he lashes out, I feel like he has this hatred deep down that's stemmed from never having a father and that's my fault and I hate myself for not being able to give him what he deserves. He's just a kid, none of this was his fault and I'm trying my best but..."
Her words trailed off after she choked out a sob, her eyes flooding with tears that cascaded down her cheeks. Tony despised watching her cry, the reality of seeing a woman who was usually so bright and happy being a raw, broken version of themselves felt ungodly to him.
"Come here, everything will be alright. Cry all you need to, honey."
Tony pulled Mila into his chest, his arms wrapping around her back as she cried into his shirt, her hands gripping his t-shirt weakly as she soaked it through.
Her cries were almost silent but the heavy breaths told Tony that her pain was coming from the deepest part of her, that her soul was weeping along with her eyes.
"I'm so sorry," she said eventually, lifting up her head and wiping her eyes with her knuckles, "None of this is your problem, you don't have to listen to me complain."
Tony shook his head, taking her face into his hands and drying her tears with his thumbs, smiling sadly down at her as he kept her face still, making sure their eyes were fixed on each other's.
"Listen to me. He is two years old, all two year olds are little psychopaths sometimes, alright? The most important thing is that he is happy and healthy and that is because you take care of him. You love him, you protect him, you care for him and you make sure he falls asleep at night with a head full of wonderful things to dream about. You do that, not you and some deadbeat guy who couldn't stick around for his girl and his kid, you. You're more than enough for Tristan on your own and I never want you to think otherwise, alright?"
Mila's green eyes seemed to sparkle blue when she cried and as Tony held her face, he felt the softness of her freckled skin and the warmth she had inside of her. He couldn't fathom how a man could turn their back on Mila after witnessing first hand how wonderful she was, and as he looked at her beneath the burning midday sunshine, he saw just how beautiful she was, too.
Tony had always though that Mila was a pretty woman, though his self-entitled advances back when they'd first met had forced him to place a mental barrier between the two of them, not letting himself see her as anything more than a kind, loving woman.
In that moment, however, it was impossible for any man in his position to not take in the beauty of the woman in his hands, and for a split second, Tony felt breathless at the sight.
"You're so kind, Tony," Mila said, nodding quickly with a weak smile.
He swallowed and cleared his throat, her voice snapping him out of a short lived haze.
"We're going back to your town tomorrow to scope out the situation, you give me a list of everything you two need from home and I'll go back to your house and pick it all up."
Mila's eyes widened, softening as she looked up at him, "Really? You'd do that for us?"
"Of course," Tony said, "Of course I-"
"Thank you."
Mila cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. She closed her eyes as she felt his arms wrap around her waist, lifting her ever so slightly off the ground. The scent of his heavy musk aftershave reminded her of a feeling of safety, but also of how lucky she was.
Mila loved her handful of friends and she adored her parents, though never had she met anyone who had gone to the lengths Tony Stark had to keep her and her son safe. She'd wished for good karma after doing a good deed and taking in a bleeding superhero who was also on the run, but never in a million years did she imagine that this was the kind of karma she'd get in return.
"Come on," Tony said, laying an arm across Mila's shoulders as they began to walk back towards the house, smiling as he felt her lay her head against his shoulder and let her own arm sit around his lower back, "There's a cold cup of lemon and honey tea in the kitchen with your name on it."
an;;
crying finally some Tony Mila content!! I love them sm in fact I love all three of them and I'm obsessed with writing this, I hope you enjoyed this chapter even if it was a little bit shorter than usual!!! Thank you so much for all your kind comments by the way, it really helps me continue to feel motivated!! <3