Summary: A series of one-shots detailing the brief moments in the lives of the Stark and Winchester families when they came into contact with one another. After all, the Winchesters and Tony Stark as relatives? Now that just sounds like a whole realm of fun.

AN: Okay I am taking complete liberties here. I'm going with the film version of things in which case it is impossible at this stage to know the birth years of either Maria Stark or Howard Stark. However, that in all essence is the fun of fanfiction writing: you don't have to play by the rules. Please enjoy these series of snapshots. Reviews and constructive criticism very much appreciated.

Words Said & the Spaces Between

Curiosity ~

"Mum? Who's that?"

Maria Stark glanced up and felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Mum?"

Her young son tore his eyes from the stranger, glancing up at his mother's face questioningly but Maria could only see the man before her, standing solemnly at the gates of the Stark estate.

"Mum!" Tony tugged insistently at her skirt. Her young son had never appreciated being ignored. He received that treatment enough from his father and Maria couldn't help but tear her eyes away at his plea. Tony was a demanding child who was always getting into all sorts of mischief and a certain amount of refusal to give in to his attention seeking antics had always been necessary when dealing with him but not to the level Howard took it at times.

She knelt before her four year old son, meeting his solemn brown eyes - her eyes, his grandfather's actually and the same eyes he shared with his uncle.

"He's no one darling. Just a stranger who comes by once in a while," she explained.

"Oh, ok," replied Tony.

Appeased by her words, Tony stepped back into the sandbox and picked up his plastic shovel. Maria watched her son a moment, glad he had accepted her explanation so easily but then again, he was only four. One day he'd stop believing in her, stop taking her words as truth. All children did eventually when they realised their parents couldn't fix everything and Tony would probably work that out sooner than most children but that was alright. Her son took after his uncle; he would be able to handle more than most other children the lows that life would chose to fling his way.

Maria glanced back to the gates. The young man was still there, hands thrust into the pockets of his brown leather jacket. There were lines etched deeply into his face and a bowed but strong set to his shoulders. There had always been a lot of weight on those shoulders but when they had last seen each other, those shoulders had been thrust back proudly, bearing the load upon them with ease. In the time since, clearly the load had increased in weight and those shoulders had fallen under it but hadn't broken. There was a stubborn firmness now that would take more than many times the amount resting there now to break it completely.

As she watched, he nodded once in acknowledgement, his dark eyes meeting her own and then he turned and walked away and all the words in her throat, the feelings rising within her chest, melted back into her body. Her eyes felt wet with the sheer relief and yet sadness of it all once he was gone from her sight.

"Goodbye John," she whispered, her words lost upon the cool autumn breeze as she returned her attention to her son. He'd be back, he always came back and she'd still be here, safe and sound and waiting for him.