A/N: Hello! I haven't had much time to write lately, but this happened the other night, so I guess I'll just put it here! However, please note:

Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Childhood Trauma, and Repressed Memories, and one slightly graphic description.

Just want to mention it to be safe! I would certainly hate to trigger someone, as it's the worst feeling. So this fic is a little crazy, written in a different style than I usually use, so please let me know what you think about this as opposed to the other one XD It's a bit run-on-y and a bit like the 'stream of consciousness' style ^_^

Howard used to abuse Maria, even in front of Tony. Tony repressed the memories because of the trauma, but since things have been changing for him, the memories start getting triggered, until he finally remembers.

Thor/Tony because I really like that pairing for some reason ^_^

Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you think ^_^

Tony remembered his mother.

He remembered his mother, whom he'd called "Mamma", who smelled like perfume and flowers and tomatoes and rain and the make up she used to cover her face. He remembered her dark, curly hair, sometimes frizzy, which would go in his mouth while she was holding him but he didn't mind because it didn't taste that bad and anyway it was an accident, and you can't really get mad at someone when it was an accident, like when Tony accidentally knocked over a glass of water and it shattered into a million glittering pieces Mamma had just sighed and swept it up, and when he'd cried and said sorry, she only asked him to be more careful next time, didn't he know he could get hurt? Or when Mamma covered her face with make up all over, and she said that it was an accident so she wasn't mad at Daddy, so Tony shouldn't be mad at Daddy, either. And Mamma wouldn't say it if it wasn't true, so Tony believed her.

Tony remembered dark, dark roundish eyes with long lashes, just like his, although he seemed to remember them being red-rimmed as though she were crying, bruised as though she were tired. But Mamma almost never seemed sad or tired in front of him, so he didn't think about it too much. Tony remembered a voice, low and a little scratchy, loud sometimes and quiet others, and remembered long sleepless nights of being rocked and sung to by Mamma, sad-sounding lullabies that he liked sung by the not-so-good voice that he liked anyway so he didn't mind if she wasn't a very good singer. He even remembers her favorite dress, red with swirly purple roses on it, which Tony thought was terribly ugly but he didn't tell her because she liked it so much, though the fabric felt nice and he has more than one memory of clinging to it, afraid, though he can't remember why.

Tony remembered his father, too, of course, though for some reason, there's… less. He has multitudes of childhood memories of Mamma, but for some reason, whenever he thinks of Dad, Tony is sixteen. He remembers the slicked back hair with a growing grey streak just to the left of the side-part. He remembers horn-rimmed glasses and red ties and perpetually shiny shoes, the smell of cologne and paper and ink and whiskey. Sometimes a sharp voice, an angry frown, for when Tony did things that Dad disapproved of, which was almost everything. But he did have a few phantom memories of Dad, with a shadow of a smile on his face and a glint of approval in his eyes when Tony showed him especially clever plans, held tight to that vague feeling of something, because otherwise he had an odd, uncomfortable feeling about Dad. Really that was the most common feeling, the inexpressible discomfort. It was irksome, annoying, and Tony could identify that it was from his father, but he didn't know why. But he satisfied himself with being regarded as having "Daddy Issues" and rolled with it, since he figured he might as well.

Sometimes the discomfort was worse than others—once it was when he was watching Thor in the mirror trimming his beard, and when his big sometimes clumsy hands dropped the tiny scissors his mouth smooshed up to the side in annoyance, and Tony had this weird flash of remember and it was weird and made him a little dizzy, but it stopped when Thor laughed to himself because he'd dropped the scissors a second time and was too good-natured to get annoyed again. Once it happened when he was fighting these big metal bastards with the other Avengers—there had been some casualties, one of which was a youngish woman with a halo of curly almost-black hair spread out around her head and sticky with blood from her broken skull, wearing a red dress and shiny black shoes, and when Tony saw her he felt as though he'd been socked in the gut and nearly threw up, which would have been terrible since he was inside the suit, and the image was burned into his mind and he saw her the bloody stranger every time he closed his eyes for months.

After that he tried to pay attention. Since he'd been so badly affected the time before he thought that he ought to at least figure out why. But the reasons he'd felt so strange were completely unconnected—a hauntingly familiar look and a hauntingly awful sight—both scaldingly hot inside his mind but ultimately unrelated. Thor did not make that face again but once or twice, when he couldn't figure something Midgardian out but was determined not to ask, and although she the bloody stranger was even in his dreams, Tony would not see her again, since she was dead and cried over and buried by a loving family who missed her and had more a right to think of her than Tony did.

Then things got weird—Thor got weird. They'd been kindasorta together and it was nice and it was good, but then all of a sudden Thor thought he was Tony's husband or something, because he got all leery and watchy and protective. Tony didn't mind while it was cute—Thor wanted Tony to hold onto his arm when they went for walks, he told Tony stories of Asgard or sang his odd-sounding folk songs when Tony couldn't sleep. That was nice, that reminded Tony of Mamma a little, but it was still nice. But then Thor got more worried. He hovered, annoyingly. He asked if Tony had many nightmares, if Tony was well, if Tony wanted Thor to do this or that for him so Tony could rest more. It was weird and stupid and Tony let Thor know, but Thor just gave him this look, and would go away for a while, and then come back and do it all again.

Tony was pretty sure it was madness, since is madness not doing the same thing over and over expecting to get a different result? but he liked Thor too much, was too fond to be as biting as he might have been with anyone else. He didn't even know what it was, really, that made him so stupidly fond of Thor, but it just happened, so Tony decided to just go with it. He just went with a lot of things, and he would've liked to continue as always, but then it all went to shit.

It was an unseasonably nice day, and Thor convinced Tony to go for a stroll with him. Normally Tony wouldn't bother, wouldn't waste time when he could be in the lab or doing one of the million and one things he could be doing instead. But Thor used his evil blue puppy eyes of doom and Tony couldn't very well resist. The walk at first seemed fine, although they did get a look here and there since Tony was holding Thor's arm like an old-fashioned southern belle or something, but Tony didn't really care, and Thor didn't care or was oblivious. But then as they wandered in a park, Tony's attention was called to a bench a ways off, where a young woman was sitting and sobbing, and clutching a baby to her chest, and a man was standing in front of her, scolding angrily.

"What's wrong with you?" Tony heard. "Don't you know how to be a parent? You'll spoil her if you carry on like that! What's wrong with you, stupid bitch?"

Tony had heard couples argue, but normally they would both shout at each other, and the woman didn't shout back, but cried and cried and cried and Tony thought that the man was going to hit her but he just grabbed her by the arm and squeezed and shook a little and she cried and the baby cried too and Tony really really thought he was going to hit her and he couldn't breathe and all of a sudden the asphalt seemed so much closer to his face than he remembered and then nothing.

Nothing, nothing, but swirling colors in his mind, blue, red, purple, yellow, purple, red, red, red and a high-pitched whine rushing in his ears and broken glass and the smell of make up and accident it was an accident it was an accident don't be angry it was an accident and-

Blue-black washed over Tony's eyelids and all of a sudden he was blinking against bright sunlight and a familiar smell (warm, sweat, and something, something, thunder) was being shoved up his nose.

"Hush, hush, everything is all right now," a voice murmured, soothingly, and Tony finally was able to place it as Thor's, Thor's Thor's he was safe then Thor was here, and then Tony was aware that he was being held, tightly, and that there were people around him with concerned faces, and that the man and the crying woman and the baby were gone.

"He is well now," Thor was telling them, "He works himself to exhaustion, but I will take him home to rest and he will be well."

Once Thor has his mind set to something it is hard to change it, so home Tony went, and was brought to his room and presided over by Thor who guarded him as jealously as a dragon did his treasure, and Tony was at least able to get the laugh of the idea of him being treasure of any sort. Eventually Thor sighed.

"What happened, Tony?"

"Dunno what you're talking about, big guy."

"Yes, you do," Thor said, and he had this weird, sad, serious look on his face which Tony certainly didn't like, and then Tony remembered and then he did throw up, right on the blankets. Thor, alarmed but trying not to show it, pushed Tony back to lying down and took the soiled blankets away to the bathroom to clean and brought back fresh ones and tossed them over Tony, only saying, "You are ill."

"No. Not ill. I remember." And Tony felt totally hysterical and crazy and like he might throw up again but he didn't, and all these images flashed at lightning speed through his head, Mamma crying, Mamma with a bruised cheek or black eye, Mamma with blood on her lips and on her teeth and coming out her nose Mamma with cuts on her face and arms Mamma Mamma Mamma Dad did it it was Dad and Tony could see it all in his mind Dad's fist and his open hand and his angry red face and his knuckles bloody and red red red and then it was all clear.

The noise stopped. It was quiet. He could see clearly.

"Dad. It was Dad all along. That's why. Dad." He was so angry that he was tranquil, so horrified that he was calm. Thor looked afraid, which almost made Tony laugh.

"Tony? Are you—what? What did Dad do?" Thor said "dad" like it was Dad's name and not Howard, which was amusing but also sort of made sense because Tony had probably thought of him as Dad more than Howard, but anyway it didn't matter since he was dead, which was good and Tony knew it was probably morbid and awful to be glad that Dad was dead but he was, he honestly was.

"My father… He did awful things, big guy. Pretty awful things to my mom. But he's dead. So it's… it's ok. I mean, it's horrible and I wish he could go to jail. But at least he can't hurt her anymore, right?"

Thor's face darkened, evidently understanding what Tony meant.

"I am sorry," Thor said earnestly, tilting Tony's chin up gently with his hand to look in his eyes, "I am sorry that he harmed your lady mother, and I am sorry that he harmed you that you feel pain to this day. It was wrong. So very wrong. Would that I could force him to pay for crimes against his own family. But I will protect you now, Tony. All is well now."

That was… that was not what Tony had expected to hear. But it was what he wanted to hear, and he was grateful, so very grateful. The memories whirled and churned in his mind but Thor slowed him, comforted him, you don't blame Mamma and I don't and Dad was wrong and I'm not that crazy and it's ok now it is it is it is.

"It is," Tony said, and Thor nodded.