Date: 24/12/1991
Location: Long Island, California
The snow coated the road as a radio played, Smells like Teen Spirit by Nirvana ,softly. The brand new 1991 Cadillac sedan trailed carefully along the icy straight. Snow sliding off the windshield as the driver turned on the wipers, thought it didn't help much with visibility.
"I'm just saying, Maria. He could do better than those toys he makes." the man complained, his grey mustache moving as he spoke, defensive of his point. His blue, brown eyes glance away from the road for a moment to check his passengers, a young child and a woman, before staring back at the road. The passenger sighed, grabbing the toy that had fallen in the back seat.
"He's not a child anymore, Howard. Let him make his own decisions," her voice was a bit resigned but cooed towards the end as she handed a Captain America action figure to a two-year-old seated in a car seat in the back, her little miracle. Said toddler smiled at her, a smile reminiscent of her own. His face lit up with joy as he took hold of the toy and resumed playing , too consumed in his imagination to pay attention to his parents arguing over his older brother.
His mouth formed sound effects of explosions, gunfire, and war cries. The figurine moved along the window like it was trudging through the snow. A vision of nativity every child should possess. His icy blue eyes followed the horizon only to stop at the sight of a black truck that seemed to dim its lights as the car passed by. His gaze remained locked to it as it disappeared into the snow.
Then, before he even noticed, the car jerked, his small body moving forward as it tilted, swerving off the road and slamming into a large tree. The passenger was thrown out through the windshield. The driver slammed into the wheel and the child's head was rained upon by glass, shards cutting into his arms and forehead. For a few moments, the only sound one heard was the constant beep of the horn, and a motorcycle coming to a stop from the road.
Snow crunched and compacted as a black clad figure stalked over to the wreckage. His steps punctuate each second with an ominous flare.
A soft moan of 'Maria...' was heard as the driver, now regaining his consciousness, lifted his head only for the door to be pulled open to a gloved arm grabbing and dragging him out of the car by the hair ,pushing him into the snow.
"Where is it?" The figure asked, his metal prosthetic reflecting the light of the motorcycle nearby.
"No, I don't know. Please. Please don't do this." the man begged, disoriented but already guessing what this was about as he glanced toward the car, then gazing back at his assailant. In a moment, shock enveloped his face, eyes widened in recognition. "Seargent Barnes?" It was all that he got out before his head was crushed in by the instigator's fist.
One.
Two.
Almost six punches from the metal arm. Once the man took his last breath the figure turned to where the passenger was thrown and shoot two precise shots into them as they stirred awake. The passenger screamed in pain only to be silenced by a final killing shot.
He stared at the two for a moment, before turning back to the car. His eyes caught sight of the small child in the back, his eyes blinking weakly as his gaze remained on the stranger's silhouette. Instead of sending him off, as he did to his parents, the stranger turned away, took something from the busted truck, and left the scene.
The child, still alive, stared out at the retreating form of the stranger. His vision blurring before blacking out. He was found a few hours later, his dirty blonde hair caked in blood and nonresponsive.
—
Date: 06/01/1992
Location: Malibu, Children's Hospital Los Angeles (CHLA)
"I'm sorry but, it would seem that due to the ... incident, Matthew has gone temporarily mute or selective, in his case as he seems to trust you enough to speak but freezes up with anyone else." The psychologist started, "This is common in children, especially in children who have witnessed loss, but it won't affect his growth. As I said, it is temporary. Right now, all he needs is support from you."
The consoling voice did little to ease his stress. Tony didn't know what was worse. The fact that Stark Industries is currently an extreme hot potato that would either break or make him, and at this rate it leaned more to break. Or the fact that his little brother can barely communicate if he even knew where he was.
"Yeah... Temporary." Tony looked through the glass partition. On the other side, seated with one of the nurses, was his brother staring blankly at her. Paying no mind to her words as she tried to coax him to play with the toys placed on the table in front of him. He just blankly stared out the nearby window.
No longer smiling.
No longer happy.
No longer the same child.
He entered the room and kneeled in front of him.
"Hey Matty, you ready?" he asked softly , folding his hands to look smaller.
The child turned to him then nodded.