You were unlike anyone Tony had ever known. Brilliant, curious, and with a mind that worked in ways he found utterly fascinating. You were also autistic, and while the world often felt overwhelming to you, Tony was determined to make sure you always felt safe, loved, and understood. Even though you weren’t his child, he took on that responsibility willingly—because he wanted to.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Tony found you sitting in your favorite corner of the workshop—a space the two of you had designed together to suit your needs. You wore your noise-canceling headphones and were fidgeting with a Rubik’s Cube-like device Tony had created just for you. Your brow was furrowed in concentration, your movements quick but precise. Tony recognized the signs: you were overstimulated, retreating into your own world to find solace.

He approached slowly, careful not to startle you. “Hey, kiddo,” he said softly, crouching down to your level. “Mind if I join you?”

You didn’t look up immediately, but after a moment, you nodded. Tony sat cross-legged on the floor beside you, giving you space while letting you know he was there. He didn’t speak at first, simply watching as your fingers moved deftly over the puzzle. After a few moments, he broke the silence, his voice gentle, almost tender. “Want to talk?”