Current mood:	calm
Entry tags:	active: tony stark, inactive: francis barton

Tony & Francis
WHO: Tony Stark & Francis Barton
WHAT: Getting burgers
WHERE: Burger King
WHEN: Sometime last week
WARNINGS: Tony’s mouth, probably
SPOILERS: Endgame
STATUS: Completed via gdoc

Tony meant what he told James about Francis being part of his family, but he honored both James and Francis by taking it slow. Francis was important to James, which was enough to make him important to Tony, but he was also an Avenger’s son, alternate dimension or not. Tony, needless to say, was mixed up in their world so he wouldn’t turn his back on them.

Francis floated the idea of burgers so Tony decided to take him to Burger King, which was as low-key as he could get. It was also the first burger he had post-Afghanistan, so Tony had a soft spot for the chain. “I hope you like it,” he told Francis as they entered the fast-food joint. He gestured to the large, brightly lit menu that showcased photos of juicy burgers, crispy chicken, and salty fries. “I usually get the whopper meal,” he added, hoping to make it easier on Francis. “Big burger and fries. With cheese. Cheese is very important.” He grinned at the young man.

“Cheese is important, huh?” Francis echoed with a doubtful eyebrow arched. He was wearing the jacket that had been bought for him (but if anyone asked it was practical and that was it) and his new converse (also practical, shut up he doesn’t like them), so he stuffed his hands into the pocket and rocked up onto his toes, listening to the way the rubber squeaked against the linoleum.

He looked over at Tony, nose wrinkled slightly before he nodded, just once. If that was what Tony was going to have, he would too. There was a lot of choices otherwise and Francis had learned the hard way that stuffing himself with all the foods he was interested in led nowhere but to feeling really sick and it was hard to maintain a facade of effortless nonchalance and boredom with everything when he felt green around the gills.

A group moved behind him and Francis’ spine straightened immediately, almost unconsciously moving closer to Tony though whether that was to protect him or to be protected was open to interpretation. There had been a fair share of both things happening where he came from, even if this Tony wasn’t quite so… grey.

“None of those green things though? The little green circles.” He poked at a picture on a nearby display. He’d tried them. They tasted like battery acid.

“Oh, cheese should be part of every meal, kid,” Tony responded with a playful wink. “Don’t tell my wife, okay?” Granted, he’d have to meet Pepper first, but Tony was hopeful that would happen in the not so distant future.

Tony noticed Francis inched closer when the group behind them got a little too close. He hated that Francis was so on guard. Those kids deserved better. However, he couldn’t undo years of that sort of upbringing; he could only hope to make Francis (and the others) feel safer in Goodland. “Onion rings?” He laughed. “Sounds like you had a bad run in so we’ll stick to fries. How do you feel about ice cream now that Candy Land is over?” He nodded toward the teller, indicating it was nearly their turn to order.

“Isn’t the bro code something like ‘if your wife didn’t see, it didn’t happen’?” Francis asked with a sharp grin, flashed for a moment, boyish and bright before it disappeared, almost as though he’d caught himself and needed to smother the moment. He rubbed his hand through his hair and then returned it to his pocket, stepping closer as they moved towards the teller.

Onion rings. Yuck. Onions were easily one of the worst things he’d tried since being here. Those and pickles. “Oh, and pickles. Hate those.” In fact, most vegetables were things that he’d rather avoid. And the leafy shit that made up salads? That didn’t even constitute a real meal. That wasn’t real food. And okay, so maybe it would stop him getting scurvy or whatever but he’d never had that problem before scavenging for whatever they could find.

Ice-cream he was relatively ambivalent towards, but his shoulders didn’t drop, this time the move was definitely protectively between the group and Tony. “Uh, yeah,” he said, distracted a little. There was probably no danger, but safety was an alien concept to him. “Sure, ice-cream is fine. I didn’t eat much of the candy anyway.”

Tony laughed. “Right, bro-code,” he agreed. His own smile widened when Francis grinned. He looked care-free for a flash, something Tony wished he could bottle for the young man. He nodded along as Francis mentioned pickles and lettuce. “Probably best to stick to meat and cheese for you,” he teased. However, his expression grew more serious when he realized Francis was in protective mode. He very gently placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, making sure Francis could (hopefully) see him do it. He didn’t want to startle the kid. “Let’s order.”

Even though the touch was carefully telegraphed, Francis wasn’t used to people touching him and it made his back stiffen again. He turned his head sharply to look at the hand on his shoulder, then up at Tony, and forced himself to unlock, fingers flexing restlessly at his sides. Of course as they approached the counter properly, Francis looked uncomfortable for a different reason.

“Can you-” he started, indicating the server with his hand, subtle but still demonstrative enough, he hoped. He didn’t even know what to ask for, really, or how to ask for it.

Tony withdrew his hand quickly as they neared the counter. He quickly stepped up on noticing Francis’ discomfort and ordered their meals along with two milkshakes. Their order was ready quickly so Tony grabbed the tray, loaded with food, and looked over at Francis. “Why don’t you pick where we sit?” He thought giving the boy some control in the situation might help ease his nerves some.

Francis looked relieved when Tony took over and ordered, shoulders hunching protectively as he moved away from the counter to move towards a table. He stopped, looking at the area for a moment and reassessing it. There was a table not too far from the emergency exit that would give them - him - a good view of the room.

“Over there?” he asked, moving quickly before Tony could even agree to secure it and sit down, sliding into the side of the booth that faced the room and then, almost cheerily, waving Tony over. Now he was somewhere with a little more personal space, he felt the tension in his shoulders drop a little. “Here’s good,” he added, stretching his arm along the back of the chair.

Tony was happy to give Francis some control over the situation and followed without a word. He sat across from the boy and handed him his burger, fries, drink, and milkshake. “So how are you settling in?” It was probably a stupid question; Francis came from a completely different world so obviously there was an adjustment period. Still, Tony wanted to keep the lines of communication as open as Francis would allow.
Francis’ shoulder lifted at the question, picking up a couple of fries and chewing on them thoughtfully. “Settling’s the wrong word,” he offered. “Besides, I’ve gone from having no adults that give a shit to having a bunch of them that sort of do due to my connection to my best friend who rep-”

He grabbed his milkshake and slurped on it loudly, as though that was why he’d cut himself off.

“Fine. It’s too quiet. Everyone’s so nice. Just… waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tony bit into his burger while Francis talked. He frowned when he mentioned something about James. Rep- what? Replaced? Tony thought of Nathan. Things were getting complicated fast, but he set his expression into neutral again. Francis was telling him more than Tony hoped, which he was grateful for and didn’t want to push. “Well, I don’t think any of us are just going to stop caring about you, hate to break it to you.” He kept his tone light and he grinned.

He washed his food down with some of his milkshake and added, “It is…scary waiting for the bad shit to happen,” he admitted. “Half the time, I can’t believe I have my family safe and whole here.” It was only fair to open up to the kid too.

“You don’t even know me,” Francis retorted, “and whatever picture you’ve built up of who I am in your head isn’t- I’m not like the Clint you know. Or any of his kids. And James is a nerd, so I’m not like him either. He’s a bossy dweeb.” A dweeb that was his best friend and he’d launch himself across a table to punch anyone who suggested otherwise.

He tipped his head, blue eyes focusing on Tony. “If you’ve got your family here, why do you keep adding kids to it?” Francis wouldn’t have wanted to share his dad with anyone. He didn’t understand why everyone here was so willing to just… add people to their family. Why everyone was just so willing to be open and bring others in. He wouldn’t have done that, but then he was an asshole.

“Because I never thought I’d have a family period,” Tony replied softly. “Because I don’t get a chance to watch my daughter grow up…” He shrugged. “Never had much of a family growing up either.” He cocked his head. “The Avengers…we’re dysfunctional, but we show up when it matters. Your dad is an Avenger. He may not be here, but James is and I’ve gotten to know James the last few months. I’m not every Tony from every universe, but I feel responsible for myself regardless. The kid part? That is the easy part. Call me a sentimental dork, but I like having everyone around.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his fries before shoveling some in his mouth. He wasn’t keen on spilling his guts, but he was learning sometimes it had to be done.

“Yeah,” Francis said after a few long moments, digesting what was being said to him. He didn’t know the Tony in their world well, other than having a lingering sense of (delayed) abandonment and a desire for the guy to care about him the same way he cared about his actual kids, and if he was honest he hadn’t been trying. He was too worried about being let down. He was still afraid of that here, but here he had no control, no scavs, no people to look after so he was stuck just… waiting. Waiting to be sent away, waiting to be told he had to go somewhere else (which, he wasn’t getting comfortable at Clint’s; he alternated between sleeping there, the 8th floor - because no one wanted him, really - and the hideout he’d found on the roof). “You are a sentimental dork.”

He poured a few of his chips out onto a napkin. “My dad was an Avenger. But I- I’m glad you were here for James. He ne- needs people to look out for him.”

“Was,” Tony repeated quietly. “I’m sorry.” He hated that Francis and the others experienced so much loss and pain early on. It wasn’t fair, but, of course, life wasn’t fair. “I’ll always be there for James,” he promised. “Okay?” It was obviously important to Francis and an easy promise to make. “And you. It is too late, really, I’m attached and you wouldn’t want to break an old sentimental dork’s heart.” He took a sip of his drink and flashed a big Tony-type smile.

“You always get so attached to strays so easily?” Francis asked, unwrapping his burger and eyeing it for a moment before tearing it in half, and then in half again. He’d found that scarfing food down still made him feel really sick, so he still needed to break his food into smaller pieces to slow himself down. “That’ll only end in heartbreak you know.”

He shifted a little, taking a breath and leaning into the chair. “Also, you shouldn’t apologise for stuff you can’t control. It’s not like you’re the Tony that built the robot that killed my dad.”
Tony glanced away. Attachment could definitely end in heart-break, which was he resisted it for so many years. However, he learned having people on his side made life that much more enriching (and less lonely).

He cleared his throat. “Ultron,” he said quietly. “Built to protect the world, developed its own idea, and tried…” He sighed. “In my case, he tried to take over the world and failed.” He forced himself to look Francis in the face. “We fought him in my world too. My fault.” It wasn’t an easy topic; nor, was Tony proud of it. The road to hell and all that.

Francis was very proud of how he didn’t flinch, not even a little bit, when Tony said Ultron’s name. “Sounds familiar,” he offered off-handedly, small piece of his burger being popped into his mouth. “At least you guys kicked his ass. How much of the world did he conquer before you stopped him?”
Did this mean Francis didn’t hate him? Tony hoped so. “A country,” he admitted. “It was destroyed.” He tried to keep his face neutral, but he thought of the young boy whose mother still grieved him. How many more like him perished? Too many. “Some lunch topic, huh?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Better a country than half the known world,” Francis said. It still sucked for the people living there, but he understood the nature of things. Or at least, he understood the nature of things in the world that he lived in. He was understanding - slowly - that his understanding and the understanding of someone who grew up not in an apocalypse. “Still sucks for those that were there, though. But I bet you guys did everything you could.”

His shoulder lifted. “Tony, fighting Ultron and losing people is the only life I’ve ever known. It’s pretty typical lunch fare for me.” There was that grin again, sharp at the edges. “But if you wanna talk about a, uh, more normal topic, I’m open.”

Tony hated that was the kid’s life. “Well, tell me, what do you think you want to do here?” He finished his burger and drank more of his milkshake. “School?”

Francis’ eyebrows lifted. “Fuck, no. School’s for people-“ with a future “-who need to use their brain for shit that has no use in my future.” Afterall, if he got sent home it’d be back to his future, right? How was being able to identify the meaning behind a poem going to help him in kicking robot ass?

“I’m not sure,” he admitted after a moment. “James is gonna be an EMT. He said I should think about being a firefighter.” It would be cool, if they got to work together. “But if you have to have an education and shit then I’m screwed. James and his siblings at least had you to teach them some school stuff. My dad was a little more practical.”

Tony decided not to push the subject. It wasn’t his place anyway. “There is time to figure it all out,” he responded. “Look at some of us. We’ve been here for months.” Sometimes it felt like years, but other times? Like a blink of the eye.

Francis nodded, “Eight, right? Months, I mean.” It was a long time. Not hard to believe that people had settled here, decided that they’d make it a home. James had been here almost half as long as he and Francis had known each other.

He pulled another couple of bits of his burger off and looked up at Tony, brows creased slightly. “What if someone gets settled and tries to make a go of it here and then it all gets pulled away and you lose everything?” he asked, “Isn’t it easier to just say fuck it and be on your own?”

Tony shrugged. “I said that in my other world for a long time. It didn’t do me any favors,” he admitted. “And…” He tried to think of the best way to phrase what he wanted to say. “You know better than most you can lose here or there, but...does it really stop you from caring about people?” He gestured to Francis. “I know you care about James,” he pointed out. “And you seem to care about your team at home too. Losing them might be a real possibility, but can you stop it?” He paused and took a long sip of his drink. “Turns out I couldn’t, here or there. Eventually.” It was a hard lesson, but he really wouldn’t trade his loved ones, regardless of the amount of time they had in either world.

Francis’ jaw ticked a little and he shrugged. “If I leave here, I go back to my team.” But if he tried here and he was rejected, it would hurt so much more. Surely it was much easier to accept that than try and belong? He thought it was less painful that way. He couldn’t be rejected if he rejected everyone first, right?

“You’re a regular bleeding heart, Stark,” he deadpanned. “Even in the future, you pretty much give up everything to raise James and his siblings. You lose everything in doing so but you protect the kids and raise them like they’re your own.”

Tony was glad, despite all his judgment errors, he managed to do some right things across worlds, especially when it came to kids and young adults. “Glad I don’t fuck up everything,” he said, only half kidding.

He gestured to Francis’ food then. “So what do you think? Would you come here with me again?”

“Nah,” Francis said around a few fries with a cheeky little grin. “Not everything.”

He was quiet again for a moment, stuffing another couple of small pieces of burger into his mouth and nodded his head. “Yeah,” he answered, “I think so. Until you get sick of paying for it.”