Chapter Text
Harley watched Emily whisper to Mr. and Mrs. Hathaway from his spot on the living room floor next to Peter. They were too far away for Harley to catch the words, but he could guess what was being said.
“Mother was a drug addict who hasn’t bothered to begin any services since OCFS removed Harley and Peter from her custody two months ago. Efforts are being made to locate their biological fathers. No addresses or full names were given. Peter was a sweet kid. Harley was quiet and probably won’t talk much so don’t take any offense. Both boys present symptoms of anxiety and trauma. They’ve received assessments to begin counseling but due to waitlists nothing has begun yet. If you have questions, you can reach me—”
Harley had listened to their caseworker Emily give the spiel four times now. If she’d let him, he probably would have been able to update their new foster family on their case by now. Instead, he sat next his little brother as he played with the trains Mrs. Hathaway had brought out when they first arrived. Five-year-old Peter had been distracted easily enough by the new toys, but Harley at nine years was not so easily swayed. Harley knew enough by now to understand that however Emily portrayed he and Peter to this new couple set up the couple’s expectations of them. It set the tone for their stay. Harley has learned that he can have perfect behavior, but if the foster family was told to expect a certain behavior—they’d find examples of it no matter what.
“It’s Thomas, Harley,” Peter announced happily holding the blue train up in front of Harley’s face. Harley nodded at his brother and tried to give him a happy smile. Peter liked anything trains—or mechanical really. He was smarter than any five-year-old Harley had ever seen before. Their mother had always smirked when Peter did something that was obviously advanced for his age. Harley always got the feeling that she knew who Peter’s biological father was. She’d never been shy to tell Harley that his own father was low-life addict she shacked up with one winter for a few days. The identity of Peter’s father though, she’d always kept under lock and key. She’d always smirk when the subject came up like it was all one big joke to her. Harley was selfishly glad she was still keeping that information a secret. Harley had a feeling Peter’s father wasn’t your average drug addict, but on a whole class than their mother. Probably someone who would and could take custody of Peter if he ever found out the boy existed.
That scenario was a nightmare that woke Harley up most nights.
Harley watched Emily walk over to them with a kind smile. Her smiles were always kind and Harley liked that. He got the feeling that Emily actually cared about what happened to him and Peter which was nice. She also would buy ice cream for he and Peter on the days their mom never showed to visits. Most times that was enough to make Peter stop crying.
“Okay boys,” Emily started while kneeing down to their level, “I’m going to go now but I’ll be back on Monday at 10:15 to pick you up for your visit with mom, ok? It sounds like Sarah and Wesley are going take you guys to the park or something later today. That’ll be fun right?”
Peter’s heads tipped up at the mention of the “p” word. “We’ll get to swing?”
Swinging was Peter’s favorite activity at the park. Harley didn’t understand what Peter found so exiting about swinging back and forth, but Peter could do it for hours.
“Sure will, sweetie,” Sarah answered for Emily, coming up behind their caseworker. “Do you like to swing?”
“Yeah!” Peter squealed, flashing his best dimpled smile at Sarah, and Harley watched her melt into goo just like that. Harley turned and met Emily’s eyes who was already looking at him.
“I’ll see you Monday, ok?” She spoke directly to him. Harley felt his gut clench a little bit. He didn’t really want Emily to leave just yet, but he had to be brave for Peter.
“Ok.” He whispered to her. Emily flashed him a smile and stood back up. She gave the Hathaway’s a few more moments for any last-minute questions and then she was gone. Harley tried to not want to run after her.
Sarah immediately walked back over to sit down next to Harley and Peter. Harley studied her. She was pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. Sarah Hathaway looked nothing like their mother. Sarah’s skin was clear and healthy, and her eyes showed focus and alertness. “What are you boys up to?” She asked in an overly animated voice.
“You have Thomas the train!” Peter squealed and she showed her the blue train.
“Do you like trains Peter?” Wesley asked as he came over to sit down next to his wife. Harley felt a little crowded with both adults so close, but Peter nodded excitedly and started yapping about all the train fact he knows.
“How about you kid?” Wesley asked Harley once Peter was finally forced to take a breath. “Got any interests or hobbies?”
Harley met Wesley’s eyes. They were direct but calm. “I like to build things.” Harley found himself admitting.
“Harley can make potato guns!” Peter piped up and Harley winced. Sometimes he wished Peter wasn’t such a motor mouth.
“Potato guns, huh?” Wesley smiled still looking only at Harley. “That’s pretty cool. Later I’ll see if I can scourge up some parts for you to work with. We can set something up for you in the garage.”
Harley nodded warily. “Okay.” He agreed because it was too early to disagree with anything this new couple said yet. Better to stay on their good side.
“Well, how about we clean up and get something to eat?” Sarah interjected, “Emily told us you boys haven’t had anything to eat yet. How about some lunch and then we can head to the park?”
“Swings!” Peter shouted excitedly and started throwing the toy trains back in the basket he’d found them in. Moving more slowly, Harley helped his brother clean up. So far, the Hathaway’s seemed nice. Peter wasn’t scared so that was good enough for him. Harley couldn’t help but wonder how long this placement would last. All adults got tired of them eventually.
()()()()
Tony Stark stared at the certified mail he held in his hands with Office of Children and Family Services written neatly on the front. Feeling a deep sense of foreboding, Tony ripped open the envelope and pulled out the neatly folded printed letter.
Mr. Anthony Stark
200 Park Avenue in Midtown
Manhattan, NY 10001
Dear Mr. Stark,
We presently have a child in our care whose mother identified a person with the name of Anthony Edward Stark as the father. The child was born on August 10, 2001.
In an effort to undertake the necessary steps to free the child for adoption, so that a permanent home can be found, we are using every means available to locate the parent and/or relative. This includes the telephone directory or prisoner locator service. We are contacting you and any other persons with the same name. We recognize you may not be the father of the child or have any knowledge of the child in our care. this search is necessary in order to comply with legal statutes.
In the event you acknowledge you are the father of this child, please contact me within 15 days of receiving this letter. I can be reached at 212-555-4789
Sincerely,
Emily Banks
Office of Children and Family Services
Tony’s first instinct was to throw the letter away. He’d made it as far as to hover the letter over the garbage before he changed his mind. Tony Stark knew had not lived the last thirty-six years completely responsibly. Pepper and Rhodey always joked that Tony had a few heirs running around somewhere out there. A few of his flings had even tried to pin a few pregnancies on him in the past. Nothing every stuck. This letter was different though. It was coming from State of New York for starters. Tony thought that might have a bit more credibility than the latest reporter he’d charmed into his bed. Not much more credibility—but still. Also, the letter was talking about a kid born in 2001—a five-year-old. A baby basically, one that OFCS was trying to terminate paternal rights on so they can pass it off to some other people. Tony Stark had the poor character defect of being unwilling to share. Not his liquor, toys, friends, ideas, and apparently potential parent rights either. Not that Tony knew what the hell he would do with a 5-year-old. He just knew immediately that if one the 1% chance this child was his own flesh and blood, there was no way he was going to let some Emily Banks take the kid from him.
“JARVIS, call Pepper and my lawyers and give them an update.” Tony ordered is A.I. while pulling out his cell phone from his pocket.
“I already took the liberty of doing so Sir.” JARVIS was quick to answer, “Miss. Potts is already on her way over. May I suggest waiting to speak with her before making a phone call to OFCS?”
“Don’t interrupt me while I’m on the phone JARVIS,” Tony snipped as he held his phone up to his ear, listening to it ring. It rang exactly three times before the call connected and a pleasant, feminine voice responded.
“Hello, Emily Banks speaking,”
Tony paused for a second, tongue-tied as a sense of something washed over him again.
“Hi Emily,” he responded, his words sounding sharper than he really intended, “Anthony Stark here. I’m giving you three minutes to explain just what the hell this letter you sent me is all about.”
As Emily started responding seemingly as calm as ever, Tony managed to pinpoint the emotion that was rushing down his spine and making his stomach feel queasy. Terror.
()()()()
It was 8:15pm and Harley was in Peter’s new room helping the five-year-old change into his pajamas. They’d just spent the afternoon with the Hathaway’s at the park and then dinner of popcorn and pizza with a movie Peter got to pick. It was safe to say, the kid was in love with this place. Harley was just glad the kid was happy, being fed, and most importantly still with him. There had been a placement two times back where they had been placed separately. It’d only lasted one and half days. The family Harley had been with gave notice after his second escape attempt. He’d heard them tell Emily that he was “wild” and “destructive” but Harley had just wanted to find his brother. Emily had picked him up and drove him to the couple Peter had been staying at. Peter had met him at the car door with big, puffy eyes and wheezy sobs. He’d heard the couple tell Emily that the five-year-old hadn’t stopped crying and asking for his big brother since he’d gotten there twenty-four hours ago. Emily and turned to them, and Harley had just hugged his brother and glared back. It was the first time he felt like could hate Emily.
He and Peter had stayed with that couple for two more days before leaving. As Emily had driven them to their new placement she’d apologized and told them she’d do everything she can to keep them together. Harley believed her, but knew that responsibility was ultimately up to him. He’d vowed on that car ride that he’d not let himself be separated form Peter ever again. He’d take the kid and hit the streets if he had too.
“Hey Harley,” Peter asked breaking the older boy out his dark thoughts. Harley blinked and turned to his brother. His brown hair was wet and curly from the shower he just took, and the kid looked ready to fall asleep at any minute.
“What kid?” Harley asked, coming over to sit beside Peter on the bed.
“Do you think the Hathaway’s are going to want to keep us for a while? I like it here.”
Harley doubted it. For whatever reason no one wanted to keep them for longer than a few days.
“It has been a fun day.” Harley agreed, and wrapped an arm around his tiny brother. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Pete. I can tell you one thing though.”
“What?” Peter asked, already leaning heavily into Harley’s shoulder sleepily. Harley smirked and moved so Peter could climb under the comforters and get all situated.
“We’re going to be together forever.”
Peter’s browns eyes found him, focused despite how close to sleep he obviously was.
“Promise?”
“Yeah. I’ll make sure of it.”
That was honestly the only thing Harley Keener was absolutely sure of.