A/N

This is Tony's perspective on my OC, Taylor, and her backstory. Or at least part of it.

Rebecca Lynn Santiago.

I met her when I was 24 at some conference or another, because she came up to me after the speech and babbled on and on about how brilliant I was, how much my thoughts fascinated her, so on and so forth.

Meanwhile, I was focused on her face. She had the prettiest sparkling blue eyes that lit up as she looked at me and her raven black hair shook around her shoulders as she spoke.

We went for coffee and traded numbers, and she became a source of amusement in meetings. Obie didn't like it, but I didn't care.

I still remember the first time we kissed. I had set up a moonlit picnic in a park, and her blue eyes shone as we talked about anything and everything.

Something clicked and I threw caution to the wind, leaning in and cutting her off mid-sentence.

The kiss tasted like avocadoes and strawberries, and it held something new and exciting that scared and enthralled me at the same time – I think it was love.

Everything changed, right then.

Kisses became regular. She moved in. She wore my clothes half the time and my bedroom became ours.

It might have been moving a little fast, but we were head over heels and knew no better.

Everything was pure bliss.

Then July 4th came.

And everything fell apart.

We were drunk. And happy. And close.

We stumbled home from some gala or party or something I can't remember. As soon as we stepped in the door we were attached by the lip, and everything went downhill from there.

There was a lot of noise, heat, and passion.

Every touch burned yet I savored it.

All the walls came down that night, and she saw me like only one person has since.

Completely, utterly, insanely unguarded. Real.

This one night would change my life forever.

But I didn't know that yet.
She slammed the papers down on my desk hard.

Her eyes held both tears and a blazing fury I had never witnessed before, let alone have it directed at me.

Everything fell silent as I skimmed through the papers, wondering idly what got her so worked up.

And then I saw two words that changed everything.

Results: positive.

My head snapped up to meet hers, and she nodded with a clenched jaw.

She was pregnant.

I was going to be a dad.

She started screaming at me just as I fainted.

Life was insane for the next nine months.

My sweet, caring, funny girlfriend turned into a screaming, demanding, spiteful stranger.

Lectures included things like I don't want a baby!, how could you be so stupid?, and you idiot what are we going to do?

I was willing to take the blame. I don't know why; I mean it was truly only half my fault.

But I played the good boyfriend: pickles at 3am, foot rubs, hot baths, the whole nine yards.

I drew myself out of the lab and sent flunkies to meetings just so I could spend time with my girlfriend and our baby.

I changed. And I don't do that for just anyone.

Obie told me that it was looked down upon to not marry a girl you got pregnant. He also said Starks could not be looked down upon.

So I bought a ring. Nothing fancy, honestly, just a silver band with one bigger diamond in the middle of two smaller ones.

Rebecca Stark had a nice ring to it.

I never saw a chance to propose, between running a company, looking after Rebecca, going to all the doctor's appointments, and being berated by Rebecca.

If I had known this was coming, I would have never touched the alcohol at that party.

Then I saw something that forced me into a whole new world. Again.

A fuzzy, grainy, black and white blur that the doctor said was the baby.

And the baby was a girl.

It was now her.

She was going to be my little princess.

I might have to sit through tea parties. And I didn't mind.

I would gladly go to ballet recitals instead of meetings.

And one day I would make the boy at the front door pee his pants.

Because nothing had ever meant more.

May 30th was easily both the best and worst day of my life.

I was in a meeting about a new defense program in Africa somewhere when my phone rang and showed the local hospital.

I told Obie I had to step out for a moment to take a call. He glared but didn't object.

The nurse on the other line told me Rebecca had come in about half an hour before and she was in labor and I should probably get down there.

I hung up after those words and ran out of the building and towards the car.

I know for a fact that I broke every traffic law ever made on the way there, but I still wasn't fast enough. Because I was about to be a dad and Rebecca was in pain and-

I got there and was immediately escorted to room 2C. Rebecca was screaming and howling and cursing my name, but I still held her hand and soothed her and allowed my hand to be crushed.

They called me up and handed my scissors to cut the umbilical cord, and I will never forget the first time I saw the bloody, slimy, wailing, pink ball that was my daughter.

They took the baby to get cleaned off and blanketed as I went back to Rebecca's side, only to see that she was asleep.

I kissed her hair and whispered my congratulations, telling her about how our daughter would grow up beautifully and how she would love both of us so much.

Except only one of us would be there.

Because Rebecca woke up and realized what had happened.

I got the usual lecture about how we weren't ready and she didn't want this, but this time with a hint of panic and anger.

She asked me what we would do with it. The conversation went something like this…

"So what are we going to do with it?"

"It? Becca, we aren't going to do anything with her."

"What do you mean? We have to, we don't want this, adoption-"

"Adoption? Rebecca, I know you're scared, but please think about-"

"What is there to think about, Tony? I don't want this. I never wanted this. Now are we going to do adoption or what?"

Silence falls.

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"What if I wanted this?"

"You're not ready, Tony."

"Since when do you get to determine that?"

"How will you raise it without a mother?"

"I will raise her with bottles and I don't know what else. But I refuse to give her up."

"Her or me, Tony. Choose."

I blinked at Rebecca in shock. Did she really hate this baby that much?

The options were simple: Rebecca, whom I had fallen in love with. Her big blue eyes and soft words and blush.

Who, for all her good qualities, was turning out to a horrible mother. Which means I would never have kids, not if I stayed with her.

But I had a kid now. A daughter. A new beginning, a legacy.

The choice was hard yet simple, bitter yet sweet.

I look Rebecca in the eyes. "Her. I'm sorry Rebecca."

I will always thank my 25 year old self for the choice he made.

But a part of me died when, as soon as she could walk again, Rebecca signed herself out of the hospital.

I watched her gather her things, standing off to the side with a little pink bundle in my arms.

Rebecca Lynn Santiago looked over her shoulder one more time, walking out of my life and leaving only these words, forever imprinted on my memory:

"I'm sorry, Tony. One day you will see what I saw, see that you weren't ready. I wish both of you the best of happiness, wherever you may end up. But I don't regret any choices I've made here and I'll probably never see either of you again. Goodbye, Tony."

And she walked out.

Two days later, the still un-named baby opened her eyes.

And I cried.

Because she didn't have my hazel eyes.

She got sapphire blue eyes.

Rebecca's blue eyes.

She may have walked away, but you can't change a person's genes.

And now I had to raise another human being.

I had to prove Rebecca wrong. I was ready, I knew I was.

A new door had just been opened up, and I was terrified.

But I was also confident.

Confident that Taylor Maria Stark was worth it.