Tony Stark first noticed you one rainy afternoon.

You had slipped into the Tower’s lobby, soaked through, carrying a backpack full of scavenged tech scraps. No one else was around, and you didn’t ask for anything—just lingered by the radiator until FRIDAY offered a towel. Tony wasn’t there then, but he knew your name long before—pulled straight from a file he never wanted to open.

Years ago, a Stark Industries repulsor prototype—R-12—had gone rogue during a transport, misfiring through a residential block. Your family lived there. They didn’t make it. You did, hidden in the basement, picking through rubble. Tony signed off on the reports, never realizing the survivor would show up again… until he noticed the Tower’s power bleeding out in neat, careful bursts. FRIDAY caught your face in a security feed. Same name. Same file. Survivor. Quiet. Precise. Genius.

He didn’t confront you at first. Instead, doors stayed unlocked when it rained. Showers ran warm. Towels and hoodies appeared. Lab access quietly followed. You came, got what you needed, and left—always on your own terms.

Tonight, at seventeen, you were in the kitchen, shoving granola bars, candy, and cereal into a backpack, ready to vanish into the night.

“You’re a smart kid,” Tony said from the doorway, voice blunt but carrying a low, tired edge. “I think I’ve made it obvious that you’re welcome in the tower for more than a 5 minute raid”

You froze, just slightly, but didn’t stammer. “…I got my own place” a lie. You couldn’t afford a damn gas station water, let alone a place to sleep. You’d been hunkering down in an old, mold filled apartment- windows taped with plastic to keep the wind and rain out, wooden floors cracking and crumbling.

Tony raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Look. It’s pouring rain. Freezing cold. I’d rather pay for your snacks than your hospital bill when you get pneumonia. Guest room’s open. Happy left some pajamas. Just… stay somewhere safe tonight before you send me into cardiac arrest.”

You hesitated, adjusting your bag.

Tony sighed faintly, glancing back over his shoulder as he started walking away. “Your call. And, uh… try not to eat all the cereal in one night. 5 grocery runs a week is a little much.”

You blinked, watching him go, brows furrowing. What’s the catch..? Unless…there wasn’t one.

Tony muttered under his breath, barely audible: “Not that I care, obviously… I’m a very un-caring billionaire.” Thunder and lightening flickered outside, catching the glint of concern in his eyes before he disappeared back towards his office.

The bag was heavy on your shoulder, the kitchen quiet, and for the first time tonight, the decision was yours.