WHEN TONY FINALLY FOUND IT WITHIN HIMSELF TO RETURN TO THE WALSH HOME—AFTER A GOOD FEW SESSIONS WITH NICKY AND A LOT OF SLEEPLESS NIGHTS—HE FOUND HIMSELF ENTERING ON A VERY ODD SCENE. Seated in the living room was a tired looking woman who was holding a fan of cards, almost ready to pass out with the tired, but pleased smile on her face, turned away from a small boy who was furrowing his eyebrows in concentration at his own cards, glancing over towards the large blue balloon of a robot that was holding his own fan as well.
He watched for a moment, wondering he was about to witness a young boy learn how to play a game more complicated than one of his age knew, only for his hopes to be shot down at a simple phrase uttered by the boy in question.
"Got any three's?"
Tony coughed, interrupting the reply of the robot, giving a pathetically awkward wave and pursed smile. He caught the eyes of all the party and he could see the confusion, the slight peeks of hurt, and the truth that he was going to have to have a long talk with all of them individually.
"Can I get dealt in?" was the first thing he said, because he was nothing if not defensive.
There was a pause in which the party all shared a look that only a family could. Then they each pulled out a certain number of cards from the deck, holding them out towards him.
A symbol of forgiveness. He didn't deserve that.
But he took a seat anyways, sitting down on the rug that he hadn't seen in nearly three weeks at this point, and he started to play.
It took about two turns to make it evidently clear to everyone that he didn't know how to play Go Fish.
"It's the most basic card game!" Remy cried, utterly offended by the man's lack of knowledge.
"I went to MIT when I was fifteen and my dad couldn't really be bothered to play cards with me, all I had was my butler and he taught me poker, blackjack, and all the other games needed to have a very healthy gambling addiction," he replied with an equal amount of vigor, and despite the sad context of his excuse, Remy laughed. He laughed behind his hand while his mother hid her snicker and the robot repeated sympathetic comments of synthesized understanding.
When I was in college, instead of going out partying, I'd sometimes be able to convince my friends to stay inside and play cards," Birdie hummed a few rounds later, handing over a six to BUDDY who may or may not have, using his towering height, cheated.
Remy made a face. "That's really lame, Mom."
Tony coughed to hide his surprised laugh, but it was too late. Birdie gasped in indignation, swatting him on the arm and giving her son a look that had more laugh than bite. "You didn't go to Gage's birthday party last week, you just stayed inside and did nothing, and you called me lame?"
Remy's smile fell then, and Birdie instantly felt guilty. The boy looked down at the rug, scowling, "I just didn't wanna go to his party, Mom. He had other friends he invited to sleep over."
"Actually," the woman said, softer this time, "I heard that, more than anything, he had wanted you to. His mom told me that you were number one on his list and that he had wanted to drop by and give you some soup so you could "feel better," since he heard you had to come to school sick for the week leading up to his party. The invitation was sent two weeks in advance, Remy."
The boy hit his hand against the rug, agitated beyond belief. "I just didn't wanna go! You can't make me do anything I don't want to if it's not good for me!"
"You're back to only spending time with Marc, Remy, what happened, you used to tell me about all the friends you had, I thought you liked Gage—"
"I did like Gage!" he cried, jumping to his feet, "A lot! But he went and left just like everyone else, and don't tell me that he didn't leave, because you don't get it, Mom, but he did, and it sucks! I thought you'd get that, but you just want me to go to these stupid paint ball gun parties and make more friends, but I liked the ones I had, I didn't want more, but I thought making more would make it better, but it doesn't because everyone! Leaves!"
The last part was directed at Tony, and he deserved that, he really did.
The two adults and robot watched the boy storm off into his room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle the foundations.
"I will go to him," BUDDY said, setting down his cards facedown, waddling to the hallway and knocking on the door, "It's me."
After a moment, the door opened and the robot waddled inside, locking the door behind him, leaving the two adults alone.
Tony sighed, rubbing his face. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Birdie said, shaking her head, trying to be sympathetic, but it didn't convince either of them.
"I'm sorry," he sighed, tapping the ground with his finger, "I'm really sorry."
"It was because of me, right?" she sighed, shaking her head, "I'm really sorry about that night. Honestly, I've heard the news, everyone in my firm has been talking about it. I've seen the tabloids. Remy's even started hearing about it with his classmates and their parents. And I'm sorry about intruding on your space like that, it was unprofessional."
Tony scoffed. "Unprofessional? What the—Birdie, I promised you to stay in Remy's life, and I screwed that up, that's my fault, but it wasn't like I signed a contract or signed my name in blood, this isn't a business transaction, at least I thought—did you just see this as, what, some kind of agreement? That'd we'd tolerate each other for him?"
She licked her lips, raising her eyebrows. "At first, yes. But now, I don't even know, Tony, but I really don't think it's a good idea, whatever you're planning."
"I'm not planning anything!" he exclaimed, and he didn't understand why this hurt him so much, "Birdie, I—I wanted to take you out for dinner because I wanted you to be happy, and that's one of the only ways I really know how. I took you home because I didn't want you to be alone, I wasn't obligated to do any of that. I wasn't obligated to care for any of you."
"Should I be thanking you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Give me something to work with!" he cried, "God, Birdie, I don't understand—look, me leaving? That's on me. I'm working it out. But I can't understand what this is anymore."
"This?" she repeated.
"Yes. This," he said, motioning between the two of them, "This weird thing where I look at you and Remy and that stupid robot that freaks me out and I think about what movie I heard Happy talk about that we could watch with popcorn and ice cream, and I think about maybe finding you a place in the facility or a better place to live not because you're charity, but because there's something that makes me feel like it just makes sense. I don't get it, but it's there and I don't know where any of us stand on it."
She paused. "What do you mean?"
Tony glanced away, running a hand over his mouth, before looking back at her. "I mean it's like I found something I've been searching for. I found it once, then I lost it, but it's back, and I don't get it."
She looked away, shaking her head. "I know what you're saying, but I just can't."
"I'm not asking you for anything," he said, and he sounded more confused than ever expected of him.
"But you are, you just don't get it, because it's only me, I just..." she sighed, pressing her palms against her eyes, "Remy thinks I don't understand, but I do. I understand very well, but where he feels abandoned, I feel used. You're not using me, Tony, you never did, but I feel like it. Every day. And what you're asking, I just can't give. Not now. Not again. I can't do that to myself, or to Remy."
Tony fidgeted, the same way Remy did when he was confused or upset, and glanced away, resigned but not content. "If you want me to leave, I will." And it was the truth.
"I don't want you to leave," she whispered, shaking her head, "That's the last thing I want. Hell, I want you to stay forever, but you wanted common understanding, so here it is. I don't want you to fix me, Tony, because you can't. That's my job. But maybe, when it gets easier, we can figure it out."
He gave her a pursed smile. "I'm Tony Stark. Iron Man. You'd think I'd be able to save at least one person."
She reached out and touched his arm. "You can't save everyone. And only I can save myself. But you can help. Please do."
He took a deep breath and, after a moment, said, "I know this is terrible timing, but I kind of want to kiss you."
Birdie scoffed, glancing away at first, only to find that she couldn't stop laughing, not even while Tony was trying to plead his case with the kind of behavior she had expected from him when they first reconnected, and she definitely couldn't stop laughing once he started, or when he pulled her into a hug that was more of him just pulling her to his chest, her shoulder jabbing into him and his nose pressed against her temple, and she didn't stop laughing until Remy looked outside the room to find that she was not only laughing, but crying as well, crying and unable to stop, face buried in her hands and shoulders wracked with sobs, Tony holding her close and fighting back tears of his own for no other reason than her pain was so strong that he couldn't not, and she didn't stop laughing until Remy was curled up between them and crying as well, because the pain was his own and everyone's as well, and not even when BUDDY followed and wrapped them all up in a hug together, warming them up with his body and keeping them together.
A strange family, really. Each broken with only themselves to fix the pieces, but the others to help them heal.
After they finally stopped laughing, they all moved to the couch and got some ice cream and watched one of the most family oriented movies there was, for no other reason than it just seemed right.
They spent the next few days, coming up a week and a half, doing nothing but spending time with each other. Nothing changed but the dynamic, the openness, the fact that they all walked around together, not caring about paparazzi or press; and, when they did, because Tony had his nightmares and Birdie had her concerns and Remy no answers to the slew of questions, they found each other again to just sit and laugh and heal.
Not fix. Not yet. But heal.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
This was by far the strangest narration style I've ever done, but I loved every second of it. I honestly had no idea what this chapter would be about, but it seemed perfectly timed, with the time skip and all, and the narration fit so well. The bit about Birdie laughing is one of my proudest achievements not even gonna lie.
So this is a jump off of the turning point of last chapter (turning point part two, if you will) and we'll go back to the more paced chapters, but with more meat to them, and I'm so glad, honestly.
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!