Chapter Text
As much as Tony loved new tech, old tech didn’t interest him nearly as much. Old, tired gadgets could have their blue prints improved and a 2.0 created, but he liked to let the original die its own death. No he doesn’t have a parasocial relationship with his robots, have you been talking to Pepper?
Weirdly though, he was slightly attached to their carcasses. It was a habit that must be relatively new, because he didn’t have decades of dusty metal rusting around the workshop, but it felt more natural than breathing. Somewhere in the depths of him, he felt like someone would come along and fix them– no not fix them, make them new again. He wasn’t too sure it wasn’t him. Mostly.
So the desk in the corner of the room became his dumping ground, littered with blue-prints and scribbles that he didn’t recognise, but he was old, tired and busy enough for that to not be too rare. And in the bottom of his doom pile, was a StarkBook laptop that he’d powered off a few years ago. It wasn’t broken, just slow, and that was enough to warrant an upgrade. Friday had turned it off, left it alive but comatose, and he’d abandoned it. There were a couple of weird corrupted files when the data transferred to his new computer but nothing dramatic, so he hadn’t turned it on since.
And maybe that was a strange mistake. Or twist of fate. The real twist of fate was 8 year old Morgan has come scrambling into the workshop one afternoon (morning? Evening? The workshop knew no time periods) in her spiderman pyjamas and, to distract her from the large scary alien hologram floating in front of his face, he’d directed her to the doom pile.
And she’d pulled out his laptop.
“Morg, that won’t turn on. I’ll grab you your own one–”
“Dad, I want this one!”
“I will build you a brand new–”
“But it won’t be this one.”
“It will be a thousand times better-”
“Nah.”
“Nah? How old are you?”
“Um, eight. You birthed me, you should know that.”
“Okay, dial down that attitude, number 1. Number 2, I absolutely did not birth you.”
“Shh, I’m turning on my new StarkBook.”
“Morgan–”
Pepper grinned from the other side of the room, “Tony, let her have it. If it doesn't turn on, it doesn't turn on.”
Morgan lit up, her mother on her side. “Ha! Yeah, Tony, let me have it.”
He faced her again, one finger pointing directly between her eyes. “That's the best daddy in the world to you, miss.”
She unceremoniously blew a raspberry at him.
Pepper inched over to him, creating the social bubble that only parents knew how to make and lowered her voice. “Did you forget what day it is?”
Tony gasped, “I would never!”
“Sure.”
“How could i forget your brother’s– i mean father’s…” His little thinking face was the only thing keeping Pepper from slapping him silly.
“It’s IronGen day.”
“Your father’s daughter's proudest day, I was going to say! Pepper project day woohoo!”
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Why did she marry him again?
“I’m sorry, yes I forgot.” He conceded, mainly because he was a terrible liar to his girls. “But I am ready, I promise. Ten intern options, one winner, may the odds be ever in your favour, I’ve got this.” He waved his hand around dismissively, he actually did have this.
“Okay, well you have an hour and you stink like shit.”
Morgan, never one to miss out on a dollar, looked up sharply, “Mom you said shit,”
Tony clapped his hands together, “Your mother was being incredibly proactive, and all 3 of us need to wash up. You have school today, Morguna.”
The little family piled out of the workshop, leaving behind the glowing screen of the whirring, overheating StarkBook. Smiling out from the glitching home screen was a familiar face.