Chapter Text
On May 29th, 1970, I was born Antoinette Elizabeth Stark. But I was never a girl.
From the moment I was self-aware, I knew that I was a boy. I refused to wear anything girl-related, and spent most of my time playing with erector sets and machinery. My nannies tried to encourage me to be ‘more lady-like’, and to play dolls. My Mother made them stop once she realized that I was not that kind of child.
At the age of 4, I presented my parents with my first circuit board. And I told them that, from then on, I would be called Anthony Edward Stark, because I was a boy.
My Mother wasn’t surprised. She knew from the start, just as I had. She said that my Uncle Neil had been born Natalie. The next day, we went to change my name officially, with a treat of ice cream afterwards.
My Father didn’t really have an opinion on the matter. He was never home, and when he was he was either working, or intoxicated. If anything, he was glad that he was finally getting the son and heir that he always wanted.
At the age of 14, I started at MIT. Shortly after that, under the supervision of my doctor and therapist, I started T. Both my doctor and my Mother wanted me to wait until I was at least 20 to have any surgery done, so I used binders on my chest, cut my hair short, and grew a handsome mustache, thanks to T.
Going through college while being underage and transgender was an experience. Both my teachers and my classmates detested me for being both a genius and a millionaire. But eventually I began to fit in, even finding a friend, named James Rhodes. He snuck me into parties and I quickly became popular. Physical relationships were out of the question, so I became a flirt and a player. I spread rumors about my sex life, and everyone believed them. I perfected my drunken act very quickly. I never actually drank. I could never let my guard down and my secret out.
At 17, I graduated summa cum laude from MIT. At 18, I convinced my Mother to let me get top surgery. I spent most of my time after that planning my surgeries, building robots, and calling Rhodey in boot camp.
Then, in 1991, my parents died in a car crash and everything came to a screeching halt. Suddenly, I was the new CEO of Stark Industries, my Father’s weapons company. I was something I never ever wanted to be involved in. But everyone, especially Father’s friend Obie Stane, expected me to take over the company. So I did. I threw all my creative genius into building weapons. I drew up plans for an arc creator to power the company. I played my part. But in the midst of all that, I continued planning. I created JARVIS, created new robots, created new technology so that when I did eventually have my surgeries, I would be a fully functioning man.
And then Afghanistan happened. And Obie. And Vanko. And almost dying. And New York. And Killian.
I currently sat in my lab in the Avengers Tower, looking over and adjusting my schematics for my surgery. It had been quiet since the whole Extremis Fiasco, so I had been in constant with new doctors. And now it was finally going to happen.
“JARVIS, have everyone, including Agent and Pepper meet me in the main lounge in 30.”
“Going to break the news, Sir?”
“I’m 43. It’s about damn time I finally get this done.”
“Congratulations, once again, Sir. The message has been sent and received.”
~~~~
I found everyone sitting in the lounge. Thor was eating a poptart and Clint was throwing a ball against the wall behind him.
I cleared my throat. “Hey guys. I called you all here today to tell you that, for the next 3 months, I will be out of commission. That includes Ironman and anything Stark Industries related.”
The room broke into chaos. “Stark, you better have damn good reason for this.”
“As a matter of fact, I do, Agent. I am having surgery. Well, surgeries.”
Bruce was predictably the first one to comment on that. “What surgeries?”
“Are you having your arc reactor taken out permanently?” That was from Clint.
“No, it’s nothing to do with the arc reactor.” After the whole Killian business, I had gotten the shrapnel taken out of my heart, but the doctors and I decided, since my body was already altered and dependant on the arc reactor, that it should be left in.
“Stark, if you could enlighten us. We don’t have all day.”
I took a deep breath. “Ok, but what I tell you does not leave this room. JARVIS, pull up my birth certificate please.”
A hologram appeared next to me, showing the birth certificate that the world at large knew to be mine. “This isn’t my real birth certificate. In fact, there is no longer a physical copy of my original birth certificate. I had it destroyed when I inherited Stark Industries, just to cover my ass. JARVIS, if you would.”
A picture of my original birth certificate appeared. “Notice anything different?”
It took them all a minute. Bruce was the first to notice. “Oh my God…”
“Antoinette Elizabeth?! You mean you were born a chick?” Clint said.
“Stark, if this is some sort of joke…”
I laughed. “Agent, I would drop my pants right now to show you that I don’t actually have a dick, but I don’t think you’d appreciate that.”
“So you haven’t had the transition surgeries yet? Why now?” Bruce asked.
I sighed. “I’ve been on T since I was 14, and I had my top surgery when I was 18. But then my parents died and I got caught up in life and responsibilities. Now that things are finally settled down-ish, I’m going to finally get them done.”
Steve looked really confused. “What’s T?”
“It’s the nickname for testosterone. Transgender female to male people take it to combat the estrogen that their bodies normally make. Testosterone also makes them look and sound and act like a man.”
“Tony, why didn’t you tell me? I mean, we even dated.”
“Pep, you were my only physical relationship I ever let myself have, for obvious reasons. There was a reason that I would never take our relationship to the bedroom. I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”
Bruce had his StarkPad out and was taking notes. “So you still need to have the hysterectomy, the Bilateral Salpingo-oophorectomy, and the Phalloplasty?”
Clint glanced over. “The huh and the what?”
I snorted. “I still need to get all my female parts taken out and get myself a dick.”
“Oh.”
“The great thing about having to wait this long is that I have created the technology to give myself a fully functioning dick.”
Steve’s expression was split in between confusion, horror, and jealousy. “So this is why you’ll be out of commission?”
I nodded. “The internal surgery is on Monday. I didn’t mean to wait this long to tell everyone. I was crossing my fingers that nothing major would attack New York before I was set to have it. So, is everyone ok with this?”
Everyone nodded.
“And once again, this goes nowhere. That includes to any other part of SHEILD except you, Agent. Tell Fury that I’m having work done or something like that. It’s close enough to the truth. I’m going back to my shop now. If anyone has questions, come see me.”
I walked down to my shop. “Well done, Sir.”
I smiled. “Thanks JARVIS.”