Tony hadn’t really thought much about heaven. Dying, sure, it seemed like he had courted death every other day for a while there. The downside of being a superhero and all that. Though he had passed on the torch many years earlier – choosing to retire to an advisory role for good when his grandson Steve had been born (he had put himself in enough danger when he had a kid at home waiting for him, he couldn’t put his grandkids through that as well) – he had still had far too many brushes with death to be healthy.
He had even died once before. He remembered precisely nothing about the apparently several weeks he had spent in the afterlife (despite an amusing quip about cheeseburgers that was probably in poor taste at the time, but he couldn’t help himself).
Even if he had thought about it though, a bar with every alcoholic beverage imaginable and no hangovers was an ideal dream even he in his younger partying days couldn’t have come up with.
Now that he was here though, he had to admit it could be much worse. He had done a lot of questionable things and been pretty self-serving during his life. If he had believed in such things as heaven and hell, he wouldn’t have been willing to bet on where he would end up. But the aforementioned bar, a model of the old Avengers Compound, and even better, some of his best friends were all waiting for him from the moment he woke up from the memories of his family. He hadn’t seen Steve and Natasha in decades. Maria and Bucky’s deaths had hit him and Pepper hard. And Peggy – holy shit, only Cap could die and still end up with the girl in the end.
Tony didn’t need to think twice about following them to the Compound and giving up his own heaven. The only thing that would make it better was Pepper by his side, but he had every belief that when she died – hopefully not for a very long time – she would see through the memories just like he had, and would find him again eventually.
Until then though, he would enjoy what he had found here. Catching up with Steve, who had gotten a rundown from Bucky and Maria but latched onto any and all stories about the friends he had left behind so long ago, and marveling at what heaven was actually like. They had to have copies of every movie that had been released, ever, in their living room. According to Natasha, they had been making steady progress, but there were so many things to do in this afterlife other than hole themselves up watching movies. The grounds were massive, the training rooms rivaled what the Compound in New York had had at the height of its use, and of course there was the pub. Bar. Whatever it was.
As Tony soon discovered, the group had many more friends that they hung out with regularly, though only the five of them (six including Tony) ever went back to the Compound. Apparently, they only had the one communal meeting spot, and people just didn’t visit each other’s heavens (he wondered why that was, if it wasn’t possible or if it was considered some sort of cultural taboo, before giving the entire thought process up as a headache-inducing waste of time – and he was dead. He didn’t get headaches. He didn’t need to think about the taboos of ghosts).
Peggy introduced Tony to some of her friends from the early days of SHIELD, and Steve introduced him to the Howling Commandos – he had met Dugan a few times as a kid, but the group had for the most part fallen out of touch by the time he had come into the picture. And Howard had buried himself in his research and development, and his search for Captain America, and as a result let those friendships lapse before Tony had grown to double digits.
For all these introductions though, there was one meeting Tony really should have expected. But he had to admit, the possibility hadn’t even entered his mind until he was early to meet the group for drinks one afternoon – Maria and Natasha had begged off and Bucky was in the middle of an intense workout but said he might come later if he wasn’t too tired. Steve and Peggy had gotten a little sidetracked, and Tony determinedly would not be the one to let them know that they were supposed to be at the bar to meet some friends five minutes ago (he had no interest in interrupting his friend and the woman who used to be his aunt when they disappeared like that – once was more than enough to teach him that it was far better for his sanity to let them have their time and catch up with the rest of the group on their own. Seriously, there were some things you just couldn’t un-see. Suffice it to say though, she would never again be Aunt Peggy. Not with the relationship she had with the man who was practically his brother).
So instead of interrupting them and seeing something else that would scar him for...death, he had just rolled his eyes exasperatedly and stepped through the door.
And found himself staring across the table at a much younger Howard Stark than the version he remembered from so many years ago.
Now that Tony understood a little better just what it took to wake up from the memories, he knew how rare it was for that to happen. Most people didn’t have Natasha to meet them at the entry point and explain, like Steve and Bucky had had. There were billions of souls in heaven, but the bar only saw a hundred or so over the course of any given day – or whatever passed for a day in the eternal afterlife.
So him and Maria, Peggy and Natasha, the Howling Commandoes and all the others he had met over the last few days, they were the odd ones out. He had never thought to lump his father in with that exclusive crowd though – what did Howard have to hold onto so badly that he would wake up from the perfection of heaven? Tony’s – admittedly somewhat jaded – memories told him that the only thing Howard really cared about was himself.
Howard looked just as much like a deer caught in headlights as Tony when the two locked gazes from across the table. Howard was sitting with Morita and Dugan on one side, and several empty spaces on the other, clearly waiting for more people to join.
Shit. Tony, Steve, and Peggy were supposed to meet the Commandoes this afternoon.
Why had no one told him Howard could be joining them?
Tony’s feet remained planted to the floor, unable to move as Howard slowly stood up, ignoring the rest of whatever story Dugan was in the middle of telling.
He remained silent as his dead father joined him off to one side of the main seating area of the bar. Howard swallowed harshly and observed his adult son, reminded painfully of the teenaged version he had left behind so many years earlier. The brilliant young man he had completely failed as a father. Pity he had had to die to realize that. Steve, Bucky, and Natasha had told him many stories of Tony and his family over the years, but none of it could compare to seeing the real thing standing in front of him after all this time.
The silence stretched on for several long, tense moments, before Howard finally grimaced and offered up a shrug that was just a touch too nonchalant to be genuinely careless. “If it’s any consolation, Steve would have broken my jaw if I wasn’t dead?” he commented, the intonation sounding like a question but Tony wasn’t quite sure what the answer was supposed to be.
Instead, he quirked an eyebrow in silent invitation to continue, and Howard sighed, shaking his head. His expression showed genuine remorse. “Apologies really don’t mean much now, do they. I know I wasn’t always the best dad…” he stopped, forcefully swallowed, and then grimaced. “No excuses. I was a pretty crappy father, Tony. I know it now.” He snorted. “Even more now than I did after I died. Steve might have been one of my best friends once upon a time, but damn kid, you went and found yourself a brother after all, didn’t you?”
Tony rolled his eyes, remembering how often he had asked his parents for a little brother when he had been a kid. His mother had always told him he was so perfect she didn’t need any more kids (a line he knew was a cop out once he was old enough to understand all the issues his parents had had), while it had been obvious that Howard just didn’t want any more of his time taken up by kids – not that he had spent that much time with Tony in the first place, but still.
Howard smiled easily. “I’m glad, Tony. You could do far worse than Steve.”
Tony nodded. He had been lucky in his life to have found several brothers over the years: Rhodey, Steve, even Bucky after Steve had traded his life and the former Winter Soldier had stepped in to take on the role of uncle for Morgan (and Nate).
There was a lull in the conversation at the table a few feet away from them – the one Howard had just vacated – and when Tony looked over, he saw that Steve and Peggy had finally arrived. Peggy was sitting down, but Steve had remained on his feet, his attention focused on Tony and Howard, expression showing nothing but concern.
Tony was torn, and his gaze must have shown it, because Steve squeezed Peggy’s shoulder reassuringly and then joined the two Starks in the semi-private corner. “Everything OK?” he asked neutrally, glancing between father and son.
Howard looked to Tony for his assessment, letting him take the lead.
After a moment of silence, Tony nodded slightly. “Did you really punch him?” he asked curiously.
Steve looked at Howard, and then shrugged. “He deserved it,” the former super soldier said simply. He looked entirely remorseless.
When Tony looked back at Howard, he saw agreement in the (older? Heaven kind of took away any ages) man’s eyes. “I did,” Howard chimed in, not skipping a beat.
Tony snorted softly, shaking his head in amusement. “I would have killed for this when I was a teenager,” he admitted quietly.
Steve raised an eyebrow. “Someone to beat up your dad?”
“OK, let’s get one thing straight here buddy, you did not beat me up,” Howard looked offended. “It was one punch. I didn’t fight back. Even though I had no idea what was going on.”
Tony frowned, confused. Steve grimaced, looking a little apologetic for the first time. “It may have been my first reaction seeing him again,” he admitted. “I didn’t exactly greet him first.”
Howard glared lightly. “I stood up to give him a hug and he laid me out across the table.”
Tony laughed. “I wish I could have seen it. But no,” he rushed on, not giving Howard a chance to butt in, “I was referring to the self-awareness. You never told me you were proud of me. I can’t even remember you telling me you loved me. And for the longest time after you died, I hated you for that. And for a whole lot of other things, but those were pretty big parts of it. But it wasn’t just that, it was that you and mom died and we never got a chance to reconcile. We never got the chance to know each other as adults and I don’t know… maybe form some sort of relationship?” He looked entirely embarrassed, and his gaze flickered over to Steve who looked far too understanding for someone who had had a great relationship with his mother before her death (but maybe he too could understand, given that his own father had died before he was born and he never had a chance to form a relationship with the man?)
Tony grimaced and looked back at his father. Howard looked guilty, and Tony shook his head. “I would have loved to hear you say that you were wrong back then. I mean, I already thought you were always wrong anyway, but it would have been nice to hear you say it.” Howard chuckled and Steve smiled. Tony pursed his lips. “Having Morgan definitely changed things for me. I was holding onto resentment for so long, way too long. But one thing having a kid of my own taught me was that you should never let your child doubt that you love them. No matter what they do or how badly they screw up, they should never doubt that you’ll always be in their corner.”
Howard winced. “I promised myself I wouldn’t be like my old man,” he admitted. “I really wanted to be different.”
Tony shrugged. “You never hit me,” he acknowledged, knowing that his paternal grandfather had been a piece of work alcoholic who had no ambitions and thought the world owed him something but wasn’t willing to put in the effort to make anything of himself.
Howard shook his head. “That’s not exactly a high bar to set,” he pushed. “My father liked to spend his evenings pounding me and my mother into the ground, but I spent my days ignoring you and chasing after a ghost.” He glanced guiltily at Steve, who kept his expression carefully blank. They had already talked about this and worked out exactly how stupid Howard had been years ago. “I should have told you every day how proud I was. I should have encouraged you to reach for the moon and never let you feel like you didn't matter. I should never have told you that you weren’t good enough.”
He looked close to tears, and Tony wasn’t much better. He stepped forward and pulled Howard into a tight hug, feeling any lingering resentment he thought he had gotten rid of decades ago, finally disappear completely. “You never told me I wasn’t good enough,” he whispered softly.
Howard shook his head, the motion rubbing against Tony’s shoulder lightly. “You don’t have to actually say the words,” he murmured in response.
Pulling back, Tony knew that Howard was right. Though the man may never have actually said it, by the constant ignoring and belittling, the way he was always comparing Tony to Captain America and finding his son lacking, he may as well have screamed it from the rooftops.
Steve stayed silent through the exchange, smiling gratefully. Howard had been one of his best friends before he had gone into the ice, and he had been both disappointed and saddened to hear about the kind of father the man he had held such high regard for had turned into. Tony had become one of his best friends in what he had thought of as his ‘second life’, after he had woken up. He hated that Howard had made such a bright and determined man doubt himself and his own self-worth so much. They may have clashed frequently in those early days, but as they got to know each other and their friendship grew, Steve could see how such a childhood would have forced the other man to build that hard exterior, hiding behind bravado and self-centeredness to deflect from the remarkably uncertain child inside who had just wanted someone to be proud of him.
Once the two Starks had separated, Tony found himself incredibly annoyed. “Ok, maybe you were right,” he muttered as he brushed passed Steve on his way to the table where Peggy and the others were sitting. Steve hurried to turn around and join him, while Howard followed behind.
“What?” the super soldier asked, confused.
Tony glanced at him and glared. “Don’t make me say it again.” Steve still looked puzzled, so Tony rolled his eyes. “You made it clear all those years ago that the man you knew and the one I did were two very different people. I never really believed you, but yeah. I think I get it.”
Steve’s expression cleared, and he sighed softly. Behind them, Howard made a sound of distress, but didn’t chime in. “People make mistakes, Tony. We all do things we’re not proud of, and I’m glad you two had a chance to clear the air, even if you had to be dead to do it.”
Tony snorted. “There’s something seriously wrong with that sentence.”
Steve smiled slightly but didn’t disagree. He looked back at Howard, who nodded resignedly, and Steve grimaced. “I think Howard’s come to acknowledge his shortcomings, and I know he regrets the way he acted.”
“Definitely,” the man in question jumped in, rubbing his jaw in remembrance of the hit he had taken many years earlier. Even dead, Steve still carried the force of a super soldier. “I was an idiot.”
Tony chuckled lightly as he sat down next to Steve, who filled in the seat between him and Peggy. Howard sat down on Tony’s other side, and the deceased superhero finally felt like he had truly entered heaven. The memories had been nice until he had ‘woken up’ and realized that it wasn’t real. Being with Steve, Natasha, and all the others was great, but missing his dad had been one of those secrets he never really admitted to anyone – his dad had never been all that great when he was alive, so why should Tony miss him once he was gone? But try telling that to the lost kid who was still seeking approval from the old man, even years after his death. Seeing Howard again during the time heist to fix Thanos’ snap had woken up that longing feeling he had thought had finally been buried, and watching Morgan grow up had only made the ache more pronounced.
Even after Steve and Natasha had explained a little about what heaven was like for those who had ‘woken up’, he hadn’t really thought about whether he’d see his parents again. If he had thought about it, he would never have even hoped to have something like this – apology, reconciliation, even the chance of building some sort of relationship moving forward. They were dead, they had eternity stretching in front of them, so really anything could happen.
Tony smiled into his beer and felt himself relax even further. Friends, family of blood and choice – yeah, heaven was pretty good. The only thing that would make it better was Pepper, who would hopefully not join him for a very long time.