[The next day]
The next morning dawned gray, clouds hanging low over the city as if the sky itself knew what kind of day it was. The faint drone of traffic outside filtered through the half-open window, mingling with the muted bustle of suitcases being zipped and shoes shuffled on the hardwood floor.
Nathan sat on the couch, arms crossed tightly around his stuffed toy rocket, his legs kicking lightly against the cushion. His eyes followed every move his father made, the rolling suitcase wheels clicking and rattling against the tiles as he checked for the last time that his passport and tickets were in place.
"Do you have your charger? Your tie? The documents?"
Coming out of their bedroom, Eva asked, her voice low, steady but clipped at the edges. She stood near the doorway, arms folded, watching him with a mixture of care and quiet frustration.
"I've got it all."
Adjusting the strap of his carry-on bag, Anthony answered with a forced small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.
Seeing his father ready to depart for who knows how long Nathan looked at him with misty eyes as he asked the only question going through his mind at the very moment.
"Do you really have to go?"
The question froze the air for a moment. Anthony set down his bag, crouching so he was eye level with his son. The suitcase handle clicked back into place with a sharp snap.
"Yes!... But it's only for work. And when I'm done, I'll come back. That's a promise."
Placing his hand on his son's shoulder, Anthony's gentle voice echoed in Nathan's ears, and hearing it, Nathan's lips trembled for a brief second before lunging at his dad and wrapping his hands tightly around his neck.
Anthony's heart tightened as he hugged his son back before reaching into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, notebook with polished silver edges, and on the front cover page is a polished silver Owl, the symbol of knowledge and wisdom for ancient Greeks, and at the back was the intertwining symbols of Alpha and Omega.
The silver edges of the book and symbols caught the morning light as it came out of Anthony's pocket, glinting as he pressed it into Nathan's hand.
"I know how smart, son. Smarter than any kid I have met, and I know about how you have been pretending to me normal, and being normal is fine, but suppressing who you truly are is bad. This is for you, son. This book contains the majority of the things I know about, and I want you to have it... I want you to start with this, and when I get back, I will teach you everything I know, including the wonders of having the level of intelligence that we have been blessed with."
Nathan's heart trembled as he heard the first part of his father's words, and his hand clutched onto the book as he listened to the rest of his words, nodding hard, though tears blurred his eyes. He threw his arms around his father's neck once again, the sudden muffled sob breaking against his shoulder. Anthony held him close, eyes shut, breathing in the moment as if trying to etch it into memory.
Eva turned away briefly, blinking fast, before clearing her throat.
"We should get going, or you'll miss your flight."
--------
Outside the house, the taxi idled at the curb, engine humming [vrrrmmm], a faint smell of exhaust drifting in through the open door. The suitcase wheels rattled down the steps, and Anthony paused at the threshold, taking one last look at the little home, at his sin tear-streaked face, at his wife whose silence said more than words could.
"I'll call every night."
Anthony promised. His voice cracked on the last word, almost lost beneath the sound of the taxi door slamming shut.
Nathan pressed his forehead against the window, watching as the yellow cab pulled away, its engine growing fainter until it blended with the city noise.
With the taxi departure, Eva knelt beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and for a long moment, they just stood there in the doorway, staring down the empty street.
And in Nathan's small hand, the silver Owl on the notebook gleamed.
#######################
[JFK Airport, New York]
The plane touched down at JFK with a thunderous rumble, tires screeching against the runway. A ripple of relief and impatience moved through the cabin as seatbelts clicked [snap-snap-snap], overhead compartments creaked open, and the muffled chatter of passengers filled the narrow aisles.
Anthony sat still for a moment, staring at the small crack of sky visible through the oval window. Gray clouds pressed low over the skyline, and beyond them, the faint spires of Manhattan cut into the horizon. His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers brushing against the spot where the rocket keychain had rested the night before. Now it was with his son. A tether between them.
By the time he stepped outside, New York greeted him with its usual symphony: the honking horns, the distant wail of sirens, the hiss of steam vents rising from grates in the sidewalks. Taxis zipped past in streaks of yellow, and a swarm of pedestrians pressed forward, heads bent against the wind, each moving with a purpose that left no room for pause.
He hailed a cab, sliding into the back seat. The driver glanced at him briefly in the mirror.
"Where to, sir?"
"200 Park Avenue, Midtown Manhattan."
The cab lurched forward, weaving through traffic. Anthony leaned his head against the window, watching the blur of steel, glass, and neon race past. Billboards flashed with advertisements for tech firms, Broadway shows, and luxury apartments. The city felt alive, electric, but impersonal — a machine that swallowed people whole and demanded they keep pace.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. A message lit up the screen: a picture of Nathan at the breakfast table, clutching the notebook in his tiny hand with resolve in his eyes. Below the picture, Eva had written: "He wanted you to see he's studying."
Anthony exhaled slowly, his chest tightening. He typed back quickly: "Tell him I love him. Both of you". Then he locked the phone and tucked it away, staring once again at the city outside.
By the time he reached the corporate tower with the bold Stark insignia above, its mirrored façade rising high above the streets, he felt the weight of his reality settle in. He adjusted his tie, grabbed his suitcase, and stepped inside. The echo of polished shoes against marble floors, the sterile chill of air-conditioning, and the hum of voices in the vast lobby swallowed him up.
Making his way towards the elevator, colleagues who recognized him greeted him with handshakes and brisk smiles with some even asking him about the new project that he is the head of.
Most of his colleagues behaved as if he had never left before, but beneath Anthony's polished exterior, as he smiled towards his colleagues, his thoughts remained tethered to that small house miles away, to the boy waiting for him to come home, and the woman holding everything together in his absence.
As the elevator doors slid shut with a metallic ding, he caught his reflection in the mirrored walls: tired eyes, squared shoulders, the mask of professionalism already in place.
DING!...
With a mechanical ding, the elevator doors slid open as it reached the very top floor of the tower, and Anthony made his way towards the only office present, which belonged to the current CEO of Stark Industries, Howard Stark.