Chapter Text
Harley had a dream once—when he was five and staring at the dripping rain—his toy figurines already having been sold by his mama, and he did not quite believe when she said, ‘Dad’s gone, honey.’
He imagined a scene - him in an Iron Man costume, leading a team with kids like him, his friends and they all laugh and beat up villains.
He’d be one of those kids on TV whose dad wasn’t their real dad and Tony Stark would show up soon, real soon.
Then Abby starts crying again; shrill and annoying and his daydream breaks.
—
He grows out of it or so he says to himself, at eleven believing that you’d ever be a superhero is embarrassing.
He goes to school; stays quiet as people rib him about his father and builds a potato gun while Abby draws her tenth black widow sketch.
He’s hoping the team gets a new female superhero in the sole hope of someone else being his sister’s obsessions.
He’s had to stop her from stealing their knives at least a dozen times and she’s only five.
He thinks he wasn’t as bad at five, then again he wanted to be Iron Man then - what a joke.
He can’t even defend himself against run-down bullies.
—
And then Iron Man crashes into his garage and suddenly the son thing seems just in his reach and he wants it to be true so badly.
Sure, it’s a little embarrassing but if there’s a chance and so he tries, heart still pounding from almost dying.
“You need me. Admit it. We’re connected” Mr Stark raises an eyebrow, giving him a ‘are you serious’ look.
He even throws in the pitying dad line and it almost works - it would have at least got him off the quiz tomorrow.
But then Iron Man speeds out of town.
And suddenly, even though he had been just joking - he feels it in his heart like a door slammed and fathers who never returned.
He really should be used to this.
(but the dumb five-year-old had believed and he’d been so close)
“It was worth a try”
–
His mom scolds him later, mostly for leaving his sister at a stranger’s place but Harley is only eleven and sometimes little sisters are annoying.
Anyway, Abby had said Nicole’s parents were cool.
He sits by the Iron Man suit and gets to miss school - so it’s worth it in the end.
The next week, it feels like a fever dream until he sees a lab, his mom smiling wider than she in years and suddenly his sister’s dream of having widow bites by her birthday doesn’t seem so impossible.
Still, Harley resolves to let go of the five-year-old’s dream.
(He mostly succeeds but then he catches Iron Man’s face in the news and the always empty house and it’s… he doesn’t need a dad, he doesn’t )
—
At fourteen, Tony Stark is but a distant dream.
Sure, he talks to the guy sometimes, mostly when he’s hit a snag in his latest creation, and he definitely plans on blackmailing him into getting a reference letter for MIT.
At fourteen, all Harley wants is to be out of here - out of this town, this life. He wants to make something of himself, more than a diner cook, more than whatever the fuck his dad is doing.
(He isn’t like his dad.
He isn’t.
He swears .)
—
Harley scribbles the last answer on the SATs and the aptitude test, very aware of Mr. Martin’s eyes on him and his sister’s Nintendo Switch.
He gulps down his nervousness because nothing will be lost if he fails at this, his real SATs are years away but if he does good - this could be his chance.
He could get out of here.
Mr. Martin is their new physics teacher and has been impressed with Harley since he assigned them an unsolvable problem.
It was meant to foster a spirit of the sciences in them since they couldn’t have solved it but Harley had.
And now here he is.
“I’m done, sir” Mr. Martin smiles at him and collects his papers.
Harley wishes he could just get his results in today but the aptitude test goes to a psychologist and the SATs take time to be checked.
Fourteen is a little young for college but he - he’s special according to Mr. Martin, too smart for his own good according to Mom, and a nerd according to Abby.
—
That night he’s making pasta - he prefers the red sauce but since Abby waited for him, he’s making white sauce.
His mom enters the kitchen, her expression pinched and something swimming in her eyes.
His back straightens, and his throat runs dry as he gives her a glass of water, he’s always been attuned to her moods - she’s his mom, and he wants to take care of her since his so-called father never did.
It’s his burden to hold - always has been.
“So, you’re thinking of leaving this town are ya?” Harley freezes, the smell of the roux flooding his nose and making him feel sick.
His mom has gotten up, standing beside the kitchen counter in her uniform.
He looks back down, stirring the pot again.
“Umm, yeah. I… Mr. Martin said I have a shot at MIT”
“And were you planning on telling me or just hightailing it out of here like your dad?” There’s a hint of accusation in her voice and his chest feels tight.
He’s not his dad.
He’s not.
“No, I... I was going to tell you” It’s about time to add the milk and cheese but his hands seem to be stuck in the repetitive motions of mixing the roux.
There’s a scoff, “No, leave all you want, Harley”
And then she’s gone and he presses a hand in his mouth to muffle the ugly sobs on their way.
Because he isn’t like his dad, because he’s tried all his life for his mom to see anything but his dad in his eyes.
There’s a sound of light rain starting up again - he can see himself sitting there - waiting for his dad to come back.
Will Abby sit there when he leaves, if he leaves?
The truth of the matter comes to him just as the smell of burning reaches his nose.
He can’t go to MIT.
—
“Harley, what’s wrong?” He barely glances at his sister, white hot rage burning in his chest because she’s the reason, he can’t go because of her.
“None of your business” He manages to grit out and her face shutters down with hurt - he feels a bout of guilt but there’s nothing for him to be guilty about.
He’s already sacrificed his childhood, his dreams, and his dream college for her, she can deal with a couple of comments.
“Eat your breakfast and quick. I have to get to school”
The guilt eats at him as the walk to her middle school is quiet, she doesn’t even hold his hand and he thinks dimly that maybe he really is like his father.
“Hey abbs, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted” Abby doesn’t say anything, furiously blinking away tears.
She takes his hand almost gingerly and when they reach the middle school, she turns to him, serious and sincere, “You’re not like him. Dad. Mom’s wrong”
It shouldn’t mean as much as it does, she hasn’t even met him, he’d left when she was an infant but it still makes him feel warm.
—
He reaches school and hopes for his sake that he’s failed, that there was never any chance of him making it.
He doesn’t.
Mr Martin looks impressed when he hands over the test scores, it’s enough to get him through the Sats, enough intelligence to rival geniuses.
And so it hurts more, more like a dream ripped from his hands when he declines.
“I can’t, sir. I gotta take care of my sister and my ma. Maybe, someday”
—
It’s not a big deal, he assures his teacher and his friends over lunch break - there’s time, he can always try when he’s a senior.
Like normal people do.
He’s just gotta keep up his scores and maybe build something, he’s just a freshman, he’s got three more years.
And then what, Abby’ll be twelve maybe thirteen.
Can he really leave her then? During puberty, the age of bullies and confusion?
He remembers that time, always feeling so wrong - body growing in the wrong ways and what about her high school, can he leave her alone when she’s dealing with college and careers?
He leaves the lunch table, his heart beating and the truth settling in like the sandwich he just ate.
He can’t leave till she’s eighteen - won’t, so he can’t go to college until he’s - until he’s twenty-three.
And which college will take him then?
Definitely not MIT, he’s doomed, he’ll die in this town just like Ma.
At least Abby won’t have to raise herself - maths quizzes and projects and bullies all handled by himself.
So no, he won’t step out of here until Abby is eighteen, and after that, well what would be the point?
Someone would have to pay her bills anyway, he - he could start saving, get a job, be a mechanic.
—-
So at fifteen - Harley says goodbye to dreams, takes up a not-so-legal job that pays cash under the counter to fix up cars, takes a legal one as a dishwasher, and does homework for cheap.
His own never completed because when would he have time?
Mr. Martin looks at him all disappointed nowadays and he’s migrated to the back bench.
But it’s all good, it’s okay because at least he’s not his dad.
—
His hands have a permanent shake to them, most days he’s so tired that he can barely force himself to make dinner.
Abby helps, she’s smarter than he was her age, they’ve always understood each other but that night has broken every barrier.
It’s like she knows that he’s let his dream go of her and he hopes that she never ever feels guilty about it because he’d do it over and over for her.
“How was school?” He asks as he takes her bag from her, waving to Nicole’s aunt as they start walking.
“It was alright, Nicole and I got into a fight again but we solved it by lunch and then there’s this rumor about Chad and Regina” He lets a smile settle on his face as he listens to her chatter, something warm blooming in his chest.
He had so many stories when he’d been twelve, so much to share but his mom had always been too tired, he gets it - now more than ever but Abby won’t ever feel that way.
“Well anyway, the point is we drove our sub away, I’m pretty sure Mrs Johnson had like a heart attack trying to wrangle -” Her sentence gets cut off, the tips of her hand turning to tiny brown particles.
“Abby”
There’s a panicked expression on his sister’s face as she holds onto him but her hand passes through his and she’s fading into dust.
She’s fading .