Siberia
“Been waiting to that for months.”
Tony watched in bewilderment and pure pride as the door – the door that shouldn’t even exist – shut before sliding perfectly back into place. If Stark hadn’t just watched Peter walk through a door that not even he – the one who created the blueprints for this building and paid to have it built – was aware of, the billionaire would never have known there was anything there besides brick and concrete, painted a ghostly white of Tony’s own choosing.
Stunned into silence along with the rest of the group, Tony realised how pale his face must seem in comparison to everyone else’s irritated skin. Tony presumed this was of Peter’s causing from when the boy had carelessly ripped off the webs he’d stuck there, but with Tony and Rhodey Peter did so much gentler so that all the billionaire and his friend felt was a slight pinch. Eventually, a certain archer shattered the uncomfortable silence.
“The fuck!“
The room erupted with conversations. Tony guessed that Katniss over there meant to say something more, like how insane it was that a kid was not only Spider-Man but also able to beat him so easily (Tony knew Clint; the archer was probably thinking it the entire time Peter threatened Steve). Unfortunately, the first few words that left Clint’s lips were like a trigger for everyone else. A trigger that caused them to all start gossiping between themselves like a group of teenage school-girls discussing the new guy on the football team.
Thankfully, no one really paid much attention to Tony. He personally didn’t think he could handle having a billion questions thrown at him all at once considering the fact that he was still processing what his kid – the kid – just said. Just did. Stark assumed everyone else was trying to wrap their head around it too and were probably too busy trying to accomplish that to focus on him. Currently, the billionaire was conflicted with emotions of pride, fear, concern and joy. And he didn’t know which one he should feel because they were all so contradicting but so relevant and the mechanic was starting to feel confused too because – ugh!
Why does everyone have to be so fucking loud?
Bucky was asking Steve if he was okay, and Steve forced out a reply through gritted teeth and a broken jaw he definitely deserved. Wanda as trying to get Vision to wake up to no avail, by shouting from where she was opposite him stuck to the wall. Natasha was demanding silence and Tony could tell the noise was giving her a headache as the mechanic could relate. T’Challa said nothing, seemingly trying to wrap his head around the fact that Peter knew his sister, Shuri. Tony was personally curious about how that came to be and was sure to question the boy after all of this was over.
Clint was swearing under his breathe about the webs that kept him trapped in an apparently uncomfortable position and how embarrassing it was that a kid over-powered him. Sam was shouting at anyone who made the mistake of listening about how that kid can’t have been the one to ‘web him up’ in Berlin, and that he demanded Steve explain what’s going on. Scott was trying to grow himself back to normal size, as when Peter had stuck Antman to the wall, he had done so before Lang had the chance to press the button on his belt that controlled his size.
Scott was a tiny spot on the wall and practically drowning in the web keeping him there while trying uselessly to change that. Antman happened to also be voicing his annoyance through a built-in speaker and rather infuriating grunts and other noises, as well as an inappropriate use of language that Steve would have frowned upon, had the super-soldier not been occupied with Bucky’s constant questioning.
And Rhodey… Rhodey was the worst. He just stared at Tony with this sad almost pitying look that Stark hated. The billionaire knew that his friend wanted answers and to comfort Tony, but Rhodey couldn’t move and didn’t ask a single question verbally. Just stared. Tried to use his eyes to communicate his support and love and Tony hated that it was working.
Choosing to ignore his best friend, Tony glanced at the vial that he had been absent-mindedly fiddling with in his only free hand. Deciding that he had been stuck here for far too long, Stark lifted his arm up and locked his teeth firmly on the lid of the container. He twisted his wrist as far as it would go without hurting and made sure that his grip on the lid didn’t loosen. With an almost silent ‘click’ the small bottle opened giving Tony access to its contents.
Immediately, the billionaire gently lowered his hand as to not spill any of the precious liquid and spit out the plastic lid, ignoring the quiet ‘bang’ that echoed around the room when it bounced off the floor. In his haste to release himself from his restraints, Tony didn’t even notice how the room had quietened significantly. But the engineer could feel their eyes burning into his skull as Stark examined the grey contents closely. It stunk similarly of bleach, the smell intoxicating when in close proximity with Tony’s nose.
Why in the world are those idiots still looking at me?
An exasperated sigh replaced a normal exhale which was closely accompanied with an eye-roll. Reluctantly, Tony lifted his gaze in order to meet the inpatient and perplexed expressions of the entire Avengers team – Rogue or not – plus extras and minus one Doctor Banner and one God of Thunder. Groaning at the sight of the expected and rather un-original reactions to what just went down, Tony fought the urge to repeat his previous eye-roll. Instead, the billionaire chose to try and relax the clearly tense atmosphere with one of his infamous, snarky comments.
“If you want me to build you a sex toy, you’ll have to wait a while. I’m busy. Go mingle.” Tony waved them off dismissively with his free hand, careful to do so without spilling any of the precious liquid, before going back to examining the vial with close precision.
Clint scoffed while the other spies and assassins frowned in disapproval. Those who were neither a spy nor an assassin recoiled so suddenly at the billionaire’s surprisingly fluent and smooth commentary that their heads smashed into the wall (Stark would have laughed if he weren’t so surprised himself). To his credit, Tony didn’t so much as flinch at the glare Natasha sent his way, long ago having gotten used to being on the receiving end of Black Widow’s vicious stare, and chose to instead experiment the liquid’s acidic abilities by pouring a small, miniscule drop onto some of the webbing on his other arm. To his absolute awe, every bit of the Spider-Kid’s webs within a ten-inch radius of the drop dissolved almost instantly, leaving the billionaire staring at the sleeve of his AC/DC t-shirt and his partially tanned upper-arm. Which was perfectly unharmed and unaffected by its recent contact with the mysterious, grey solution.
“Holy shit.”
Tony wasn’t sure exactly how many people said that same phrase simultaneously. Stark just knew that he was one of them. His eyes were wide and reflected his inner surprise at how efficiently this mysterious liquid worked. At some point during Tony’s mindless staring, the thought that Peter made this stuff crossed his conscious. A grin tugged at the corner of Stark’s lips as he silently contemplated his – the – kid’s intelligence.
Tony shook his head in order to clear his thoughts and focus once again on the task at hand. As quickly as he could, the engineer mentally calculated how many people this small container of liquid would be able to free (despite Peter already having stated the answer but, in Tony’s defence, he was still in shock). He did so by taking into consideration how much webbing a single drop could dissolve.
He eventually decided (after several seconds of solving unnecessarily complicated math equations (in his head)) that if he managed to ration the liquid carefully and only use it on the essential areas where the webbing connected them to the wall, he could get five – maybe more – members of the unlikely group down (including himself). It was likely that there would still be a fairly large amount of Peter’s artificial, white webs still stuck to their clothes, but it wouldn’t stay there forever and there was nothing he could do about it. It was basically either release five people, or only three but get rid of all of the kid’s webs that resided on their clothes.
Tony worked smart, not hard, so when he started working on releasing himself, he did so carefully.
With every drop he watched fall onto the webs, he made sure to work with a rare consideration of those that surrounded him. Which was definitely not – at all – because everyone’s eyes were still on him because Tony Stark does not care what people think of him. Especially not Steve Rogers because all trust and brotherly love they had for one another died when Cap chose Bucky over him. When the ‘American-Idol’ revealed his knowledge of Maria and Howard Starks’ murder. I don’t care what he thinks anymore. I don’t. But Tony might as well have been arguing with a brick wall rather than his own conscious because no matter how many times the engineer reassured himself, repeated that phrase like a mantra, the words never stuck.
Maybe some part of him believed he deserved what happened in Siberia.
Maybe he did.
Suddenly, the room darkened significantly, but not to the point of which everyone was left completely blind to their surroundings. “Protocol ‘Let’s Take Their Heads Out of Their Asses’ has been initiated. Warning; all abilities to stop, pause or enable protocol will be removed once video begins playing in 10…9…8…7…” It took Stark an embarrassingly long time to realise what Karen was referring to, but by the time Tony finally had, she had already reached – “2… 1.”
The AI’s usually chipper voice sounded terrifyingly robotic as she reached the final numbers of her countdown. Tony didn’t even get a chance to think – to decide if he really wanted everyone here to witness what Steve had done to him – and the engineer was strangely glad for it. Some small part of him knew he would have refused to show anyone that nightmare fuel. But Stark also knew that would be a choice he would forever regret because if they didn’t see it now, they would later.
As a three-dimensional hologram flickered to life around them though, Tony began to really doubt himself.
Like really doubt himself.
The hologram had an obvious blue hue that varied in shades in order to compensate for the lack of other colours. Most of Tony’s holograms had a larger range of colours so it was obvious Peter had used an older model in order to make it not only harder to track, but also to identify. And if the kid was going through all of that trouble, there must be a reason beyond not wanting anyone to get their hands on this footage. Tony himself hadn’t watched it before as he had been there when it all happened so there really wasn’t a point. Besides maybe torturing himself by revisiting those traumatising memories.
One thing became clear, though, as the impossible-to-forget metal walls appeared in hologram form: if they were going to watch this god-forsaken footage, Tony was not going to be here to watch it with them. So, as any normal person would do in this situation, he visibly sped up his work, splashing the liquid with no regard for savouring the limited supply.
In the room they were in, the holograms showed heavy, metal double doors that were practically wide open, with snow, dark rocks and an almost grey, cloud-covered sky on the opposite side. From that barren landscape approached two figures, easily identifiable to the group as Steve Rogers and his companion, Bucky. Despite the lack of actual, accurate colours, Tony swore he could see the red of Roger’s shield.
The past Steve was the first to enter, circular shield in hand, with Bucky only a few steps behind. They didn’t speak to one another and simply journeyed in silence. Due to the suffocating quiet in the room, Tony, along with everyone else, could clearly hear their loud, echoing footsteps as they travelled through the bunker. The camera followed them seamlessly, giving off the effect that the humanoid projections were walking on the spot and the walls themselves were moving.
Everyone was so concentrated on the holograms that they paid no attention to Tony. That is, until, he managed to free himself from the wall completely, crashing to the floor with a ‘bang’, and barely avoiding spilling what remained in the vial. The inventor could feel their eyes burning into his skin as the holograms continued to move, ignorant to the events currently taking place within the same area.
Somewhere behind him, Tony heard Rhodey speak his name, but Stark was in too much of a panic to care to respond. The hologram Bucky and Steve had left the elevator they were in at this point, and were cautiously walking around with guns raised. Tony knew he didn’t have long before the past him presented himself to the pair, so the billionaire knew his time was running out. Running out too quickly for Stark to ever hope to keep up.
He had to leave. He had to leave now. He couldn’t watch this replay. Not now.
Not ever.
So Tony clumsily jumped to his feet, somehow aware enough to leave the bottle on the floor in an up-right position. He raced for the door, desperate for an escape. Desperate to be far away from here and never look back. But the fucking thing wouldn’t open! Tony growled in frustration, slamming his fist into the locked door as if it would do anything.
“Fuck!” He shouted with a final kick.
He was trapped. Stuck. No, no, no, no, no – this can’t be happening! No! Let me the fuck out! “Tony, it’s going to be fine. Calm down.” Rhodey assured. Had I said that out loud? Whatever. I need to get out!
Stark was hysterical. He could feel the approaching panic attack tugging at his distressed mind, and he tried to resist. He couldn’t break down here. Not now. Not in front of them. Stark men were made of steel. Stark men did not have panic attacks in front of practically everyone they are close to. Or were close to.
The holograms had reached a set of stairs which were high enough that if an average-height man stood at the top of them, their head would be in the ceiling of the actual, material surroundings. Tony hoped that would be the case so that the footage would become at least slightly less visible. But, to Stark’s absolute horror, the ceiling rose!
It rose so that the hologram Bucky was fully visible atop his perch and Stark was scared now because –
“You seem a little defensive.”
Tony hadn’t heard the familiar clanging of his Iron Man suit as the hologram version of himself materialised before his eyes. His – no, it’s – head was tilted to the side slightly in a cocky manner, and a look of partial hesitation shone in its eyes. The helmet was retracted back into the suit already, and the bruises on the hologram Tony’s face were strangely prominent despite its inaccurate colouring. Or maybe Stark was just imagining it.
He probably was.
Tony – Tony2 – approached hologram Steve and Bucky confidently, but Stark remembered the fear he’d felt even then. He was just so used to pretending it was hard to forget not to sometimes. Then Rogers took a step or two forwards, shield still raised protectively.
“It’s been a long day.” It replied, eyes focused on Tony2’s every movement.
“At ease, soldier. I’m not currently after you.” Tony2 reassured casually, but at this point, Stark – the real one – was practically paralyzed.
All he could do was stare numbly as the events unfolded. Stare as the past him makes mistakes that still haunt the engineer to this day. He didn’t want to. He wanted nothing more than to leave. And if he couldn’t do that he would curl up around himself and cover his ears so that he didn’t have to watch. But the moment his voice echoed around the room all rational thinking went out the window. All self-control burned up in flames leaving behind a hollow version of himself that was just frozen.
“Then why are you here?” Hologram Steve countered smoothly, not yet trusting of the man he had only recently fought against.
Tony2 bent his – its – elbows, raising its arms up partially so that its hands were above its hips. The humanoid projection had the decency to seem at least a little sheepish. “Maybe your story’s not so crazy.” It couldn’t even meet Steve’s eyes as it spoke if the way its head turned to glance to the side was anything to go by.
Everyone present was watching with such interest it was scary. They hardly blinked and never dared to look away or speak in fear of missing something important. No one had ever seen them so quiet. It freaked Tony out – well, it would have if he wasn’t so busy doing the same.
“Maybe.” Tony2 continued, shifting in an anxious manner on its feet. Stark assumed that it’d be viewed as hesitation though more than anything. “Ross has no idea you’re here and I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I’d have to arrest myself.”
Tony remembered saying that.
He’d added the ‘arrested’ part because he didn’t want to seem like he cared too much. Stark was known widely by the public as someone who only looked out for himself, and during that moment, showing the vulnerability of not being that selfish person scared the inventor. His entire life Tony had hidden behind the title that was his name, and not being able to that in that situation – although hard to admit – scared him.
“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork.” Rogers nodded despite not being 100% serious.
And Tony2 chuckled. It was a dry sound with no real emotion behind it and even the smirk was forced. But it was believable enough then for Steve so maybe it’ll be believable enough for everyone else now. And then hologram Steve lowered its shield. At that moment in time, Stark didn’t think he’d ever felt so relieved before. He’d gotten his friend back.
He’d gotten his brother back.
“It’s good to see you, Tony.” Rogers admitted.
The surprised expression lasted on Tony2’s face for about a second before understanding washed across its features. “You too.” Stark had replied and back then, he’d meant it.
He really had.
Oh, how times have changed.
Then Tony2 said something to hologram Bucky who still had its gun raised defensively. Tony couldn’t make out what exactly was said nor remember the words uttered. Stark’s brain felt fuzzy, and each memory seemed blurred. He knew it was something about a truce, and could vaguely make out hologram Bucky moving its loaded gun down to its side rather than where it was previously pointed at Tony2’s head.
“We’ve got heat signatures.”
“How many?”
Tony2 seemed to hesitate before replying; “One.”
And just like that Stark was back, in reality, mentally confused on why he had just suddenly zoned out there for a second. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his breaths were short and fast and on the edge of hysterical. No one else appeared aware of his own breathing difficulties besides Natasha but she knew everything, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. She sent him a worried glance, but he just brushed it off with a ‘thumbs-up’ gesture and returned to watching the holograms.
They were there now.
In that room.
That room where Tony found out just what it was that had killed his parents. Or, more accurately, who. His feet still felt rooted to the ground and his body felt so heavy that trying to move any more than he just had seemed like a waste of energy.
“If it’s any comfort –“
Tony visibly tensed. And so did Steve and Bucky – the real ones – but Stark couldn’t have cared less. As much as the billionaire hated Steve, he hated that man, the one who had just spoken, so much more. Because he had set that stupid thing up! Planned it all! Single-handedly caused a group of superheroes to fall apart, crumble into a disorganised mess and hurt each other mercilessly in the process. Then, like the coward he was, shot himself long before anyone bothered to search for the guy responsible for this mess. Most of it at least.
“– they died in their sleep.”
His reassurance meant nothing. And when – after a second or so of standing perfectly still – the trio finally continued walking, they came across the first body; a bullet hole clearly displayed on the glass tube containing the corpse. Hologram Bucky moved on, though, seeming visibly unphased if a little shaken.
“Did you really think I wanted more of you?” The question was clearly directed at Bucky and held a seemingly teasing tone. Like they were mere children, foolish and naïve if the thought so much as crossed their minds.
And he knew it had. He fucking knew because he’d set that up for his own benefit. That bastard.
“What the hell?” Hologram Bucky murmured, its gun still raised protectively in front of it, ready to shoot.
And then they spotted the other people. Other Winter Soldiers with dried blood coming from bullet holes in their heads or chests. Every one of those experiments were dead, and the holograms displayed that so well it was nerve-racking. It was almost like Tony was still there, looking at the corpses with clear confusion even though his helmet once again covered his face.
“I’m grateful to them, though.” Baron Zemo continued, unaffected by their reactions. And his next words, although spoken months ago, still made Tony’s blood run cold. “They brought you here.”
Stark could practically feel everyone stiffen around him despite their probable perplexion. The atmosphere grew tense, and the only three men aware of what was about to happen had similar, wide-eyed expressions. Similar instincts to turn and run but they couldn’t because they were either stuck, forced to watch, or paralysed in their own fear.
And then a light came on and Baron’s smiling face was visible on the wall where Peter had left through. Instinctively, Iron Man aimed its repulsor and Captain America threw its shield. The circular disc, though, only bounced back into Steve’s grip where it positioned it back onto its arm.
“Please, Captain.” He spoke over the speaker with a confidence that could rival Tony’s. “The Soviet’s built this chamber to withstand a launch blast of UR-100 rockets.” Baron stated matter-of-factly.
“I’m betting I could beat that.” Tony2 announced as Steve, Bucky and itself dispersed around the room.
“Oh, I’m sure you could, Mr Stark.” No. No. Only Peter gets to call him that. Only Peter. No one else and especially not fucking Baron Zemo! Something buried deep in his mind reminded Tony that he had hardly known Peter then, but that hardly mattered now. “Given time.” He added. “But then you’d never know why you came.”
Hologram Steve seemed mad and slightly disbelieving. “You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” The soldier continued walking as it spoke, voice void of emotion.
Baron made a noise similar to a chuckle but more akin to an exaggerated exhale that lifted his lip upwards slightly before his expression flattened again. Now, hologram Steve stood right before the window the villain hid behind. The two made eye contact, and, with a chilling seriousness, Baron replied; “I’ve thought of nothing else for over a year.”
And then Zemo shifted in order to move closer to Steve. “I studied you.” He declared. “I followed you. But now that you’re standing here, I just realised…” Here he paused, shuffling even closer to Rogers and staring right it. “There’s a bit of green in the blue of your eyes.”
Tony assumed that the group would have been more surprised by the seemingly random statement if they weren’t so alert. So prepared for a fight that seemed to be coming even though these were only holograms of previous events and they were all stuck to the walls except Tony. Even though it wasn’t the present but a past experience. So then, answer Stark this:
Why did it feel so real? So current? So now?
Was it because Steve and Bucky were in the room with him? Because these holograms, although coloured in strictly blue, looked so strangely realistic that it made it hard to identify people from projections? Or was it just because the memories were still so fresh in Tony’s mind, the trauma so raw that it warped his sense of fiction and non-fiction?
Baron proceeded with his monologue, chuckling after his last spoken sentence, but he promptly cut himself off. “How nice to find a flaw.” He mused.
“You’re Sokovian.” Hologram Steve stated with a forced, neutral expression painted on its face. “Is that what this is about?” That particular question didn’t require elaboration.
Something as big as Ultron tended to be hard to forget.
Baron shook his head as he spoke. “Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell.” At that, Stark had to restrict a cringe. Guilt seemed to be something that never washed away. “No,” Zemo answered. “I’m here because I made a promise.”
A few seconds of silence before fake Rogers shattered it pitilessly. “You lost someone?”
And the villain swallowed, smacking his lips before replying; “I lost everyone.” Another pause. “And so will you.”
Baron turned away and bent down slightly, pressing a button or pulling a lever that lit up the screen of a nearby computer. The thing was ancient, and a disgrace to modern technology in Tony’s opinion. In curiosity, hologram Steve turned to examine the device, turning its head to look back at Zemo questioningly only once. On the computer screen was the number sixteen and nineteen-ninety-one in white writing with a word in between. It was not English so to everyone besides Tony it seemed like nothing but gibberish. But Stark had searched it up, despite the task being an unnecessary one.
It was a date.
The date.
“An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again.” Baron announced. “But one which crumbles from within?” The question was rhetorical and promptly answered by the one who asked it. “That’s dead.” Hologram Steve just stared at the guy when those two words were spoken. “Forever.”
Slowly, Tony2 and Bucky – Bucky2 – wandered over until they were nearby the computer as well. During the few seconds it took them to reach their destination, the image changed from the date to bad-quality camera footage of a dirt road in a night-time setting. Tony2 was the first of the newly approached pair to actually see the screen. Within seconds, the projection’s facial expression changed from mild boredom to confusion, to realisation and, finally, to fear, its head tilting to the side sometime during that process before straightening again.
“I know that road.” Tony2 informed, stepping half a step forward in order to get a better look. To just check if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.
Stark new. He knew exactly what had been going on through Tony2’s head at that moment because that had been him. Standing in a Siberian bunker, surrounded by dead bodies, two man he still hardly trusted and Baron Zemo, the dickhead that almost ruined everything, then smashed what the billionaire had managed to salvage into tiny pieces. Like fragments of a friendship which left physical scars on all those involved as well as mental trauma.
Only now that Tony was watching these events unfold rather than experiencing them did he see the fear on Steve’s face too. “What is this?!” Tony2 shouted amongst spotting the date on the VHS tape. The projection looked to Baron in search of answers.
All he received was silence.
Once Tony2 seemed to realise that he wasn’t going to receive a response any time soon, his eyes hesitantly trailed back to the computer screen, mouth still partially open as if wanting to speak but forgetting how. Then the humanoid projections vanished, and the computer was replaced with a cuboid that was about as tall as Tony was. It now rested in the exact centre of the room. On each side were screens.
Screens that showed the same thing at the exact same time. Screens that were positioned the way they were so that everyone in the room could see them clearly. The holograms, to Tony’s dismay, temporarily gained colour so that the screens would seem clearer.
Stark didn’t watch. He couldn’t. It had hurt so much the first time and he knew it would only hurt more the second. So the inventor closed his eyes firmly. He raised his hands to his head and covered his ears in a desperate attempt to block out the almost silent video.
The video that was silent for everything but the voices of the people in it.
Tony doesn’t need to describe what was shown on that video, and he doesn’t think he could if he tried. It’s not that he didn’t remember it. He did. He remembered it so well it was unnatural and hurt his very being to so much as think about because –
“Help my wife.”
Gasps echoed around the room simultaneously, and even people like Natasha who knew where this video was recorded gasped too because of who it was that approached the injured Howard Stark. Eyes shifted from himself to Bucky to Steve to the video over and over again. The soldiers had the humanity to lower their heads in shame, but it took all that Tony had right then and there not to cry. Why in the fucking hell can I still hear it! Shut up!
“Please. Help” The words were followed by a gasp from the same man who had spoken, as the world-famous inventor of his time was yanked forcefully by his hair and pulled back from his crawling position. His back hit his car silently and the blood on his face was now painfully clear.
Tony wasn’t even fucking watching but he could still see it all happening!
“Sergeant Barnes?” The man wheezed between pants.
To his left, Rhodey was eyeing his friend with an impossible amount of concern that the engineer surely didn’t deserve, whilst attempting to watch the screens at the same time. It was, obviously, not overly effective but it seemed to work for Rhodey and that’s all that mattered. Now, if Tony could just remember how to breathe he could assure his friend that his worry was not necessary because the billionaire was clearly fine.
“Howard!”
Tony audibly choked on a sob. His feelings for his father were minimal, but his mother, Maria, and their butler/chauffeur, Jarvis, were the only people Tony had felt close to the majority of his childhood. They were his everything. Now, hearing his mother’s desperate voice shout out for her husband moments before both of them were killed was agony. It hurt. It hurt so much, and Tony knew it shouldn’t, but it did.
Then the group watched in a terrified silence as Barnes punched Howard repeatedly in the face with his metal fist. There was no remorse on his face. No hesitation.
“Howard!”
Everyone but Tony stared as the man’s lifeless body was placed back into the car, right beside Maria’s still very much alive form. He was positioned strategically back into his seat to make it seem as though the car crash had killed him, not the Winter Solider. Then, the video Bucky walked around the car toward the passenger side where Tony’s mother was panting in her seat, looking anywhere but at Howard.
And then they watched as Bucky chocked her, staring dead-ahead above the top of the car as he did. Tony was pretty sure Wanda was crying, and that there was at least some moisture in Rhodey’s eyes, but Tony didn’t lift his head from where he had curled in on himself nor opened his eyes to check. Not until it was completely over.
And, eventually, after what felt like years, the video Bucky pointed his gun at the camera, and it finally was.
All eyes were on Tony as he hesitantly uncurled and let his body relax a little. “Tony –“ Rhodey began but the billionaire cut him off with a ‘stop’ gesture.
“Don’t.” He interrupted, eyeing the rest of the group as if daring them to say a word about what they just saw. Luckily, they weren’t as stupid as they looked and chose to remain silent (although begrudgingly) for the time being. Unfortunately, the worst wasn’t over yet.
It had hardly even begun.
The hologram cuboid glitched once before vanishing completely. There was that quick second – that rare moment – where Tony thought it would end there. That that was all Karen – no, Shuri (as previously mentioned by Peter) – was going to show the group. And Stark was understandably relieved.
But then the holograms flickered back to life, except this time they took humanoid forms.
There stood Tony2, Bucky2 and hologram Steve (Rogers’ ‘double’ didn’t deserve to receive an actual name as the others had), crowded around that fucking computer like they had been before they were replaced with those screens. Stark assumed that it would skip to the part where the trio fought, which, ultimately, led to Tony’s defeat.
But no.
Instead, Tony2 repeated its previous question, expression still confused and scared. Like he – it – hadn’t seen the video yet. “What is this?!”
Stark swallowed the lump in his throat forcefully as the hologram version of himself slowly allowed its eyes to travel to the computer screen. Tony remembered his hesitance at that moment, thinking that maybe – just maybe – he was mistaken. That that wasn’t the road that they died on because no one was able to retrieve any footage from the destroyed camera.
That it had to be fake.
Tony could identify the exact moment that the white car crashed into the stationary tree. Tony2 stepped closer not a moment after, eyes already moist despite the lack of other, actual, visible people on the screen. The billionaire clearly remembered wanting to look away. To run out of that fucking bunker without looking back. But he hadn’t.
Because, back then, much like now, the engineer had been paralysed with fear.
The holograms were arranged differently, in a way that allowed almost everyone to have a clear view of the projections’ expressions. Their backs were to the wall that Peter had left through, which was a smart move considering it left only Scott and Vision unable to see Tony2’s face. And Lang wasn’t relevant. Nobody here was close to the man and the man wasn’t close to anyone present. Scott was hardly even acquainted with half of the group.
And Vision, well… Vision was unresponsive.
Tony2 stared at the screen in silent horror as someone – someone he hadn’t been able to recognise immediately due to the lights flashing at the camera from whoever’s vehicle – rode up to the scene with chilling confidence. Hologram Steve wasn’t looking at the screen though. It was staring at Tony’s double, obvious alertness clear in its weary gaze.
But Tony2 just leaned forward towards the computer, watching intently. It didn’t notice hologram Steve’s stare as it dug into its back, or Bucky2’s hung head that lifted slightly in order to allow the murderer a decent view of Tony2 before the super-soldier straightened completely. Too soon for comfort, Howard’s voice was echoing around the room again, but to Tony’s relief, at a quieter volume than previously.
“Sergeant Barnes?”
Stark had already recognised the man in the video at that point in time, but hearing the verification coming from Howard himself was plain agony. The inventor could still feel the way his heart had momentarily stopped beating, like a phantom pain that haunted his subconsciousness. In sync with Maria’s first exclamation, Tony2 finally tore its gaze away from the computer in order to glance at Bucky2, who refused to meet the other humanoid projection’s eyes.
A second passed before Tony2 resumed its careful watch of the video, betrayal and anger slowly overpowering the initial denial. Tony2’s whole body shook as punch after punch collided with his father’s face, its eyes closing when watching became too unbearable. But they opened not long before Howard collapsed face-first into the grass and dirt. Tony2’s shaking was undeniable at this point, and his previously rhythmic breaths derayed from their pattern.
Tony2’s eyes widened in pure terror as Maria’s bloodied form most probably (read: definitely) became clearer, its lips parted as if frozen mid-sentence. When the video ended, hologram Steve blinked his gaze from the Bucky in the video to Tony2, mouth partially open in preparation to verbally defend its friend. Hologram Rogers even had the fucking nerve to seem exhausted and begin panting as if it had been the one to discover some hidden secret years too late.
There was that brief moment where the trio stood in silence. Stark could even clearly remember his panicked and desperate thoughts that had searched frantically for a lie. For any indication that that wasn’t real. There are five stages of grief. Came a taunting voice in the present Stark’s mind.
And the first is denial.
But when he’d inevitably drawn a blank, a burning fury had caused his blood to boil. Because his parents’ murderer had been standing a mere few feet away from him, never having received justice for the lives he’d taken. The people he’d murdered that left young Stark utterly alone with more responsibly than he could possibly have handled.
So Tony2 rushed a frantic step towards Bucky2, that Stark hardly remembered turning to face. But hologram Steve grabbed the humanoid projection from behind before it made it any closer to its target.
“No, Tony.” Hologram Steve commanded strictly.
Then Tony2 turned its head to face hologram Steve, the rest of its body quickly copying the action. At first, Tony2 stared at the floor before its eyes rose to meet hologram Steve’s, a growing rage manifesting in its still damp eyes. As it finally spoke, Tony2’s head tilted to the side in questioning.
“Did you know?”
And hologram Steve hesitated. Hesitated. That had been Tony’s first clue that whatever was going to leave that man’s lips wasn’t going to be true. “I didn’t know it was him.”
Betrayal is a funny thing.
Tony had experienced the feeling many times in his years of living. There was Obadiah with his company. Howard with parenting. Fuck – even reporters. And so many friends that Tony had thought he’d made in his MIT days. Turned out, only one of them out of possible hundreds actually wanted to have any sort of relationship with Tony for anything other than the guy’s money and status.
But – to date – the betrayal that had hurt the most had been Steve’s. Had been Sam’s and Clint’s and Wanda’s and Natasha’s when they sided against Tony in a verbal fight turned physical. When they paralysed Rhodey from the waist down then didn’t so much as fucking apologise. When they made the billionaire so desperate that he had to beg for help from two strangers – one of which was a child. A smart and powerful child but a child, nonetheless.
At least, that’s what Tony had thought.
But all that changed when the blatant, five-word lie left Steve Roger’s mouth.
“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers.” Tony2 hissed while shaking hologram Steve slightly. Tony2’s eyes were wide and blood-shot, and its voice was hoarse with grief and betrayal unlike any Stark had known before. “Did you know?”
One second passed in silence. Then another. Then another. Then another. Then; “Yes.”
The atmosphere in the room had never been tenser. The silence had never been thicker. All eyes had left the hologram to stare at either Tony or Steve, except theirs’. Both of their heads were hung, but while Steve’s was hung in shame and embarrassment, Tony’s was hung in pain and grief. He didn’t want anyone to see the tears that had pooled in the billionaire’s eyes.
It's almost silly how a single word can cause so many emotions to flood someone’s senses.
How a single word, although seemingly innocent and plain out of context, can cause a person’s whole world to come crashing down. Everything they thought they’d know – everyone they thought they could trust – all facts that now must be questioned. All hopes and beliefs that had acted as one’s life support now were worth nothing more than the lies parents tell their kids about monsters to get them to behave.
Because if this guy that he’d trusted with his fucking life had lied, for the majority of the years they’d known each other about something so important, then what else had they lied about? What other truths had been hidden from him because he was fucking ignorant enough to trust someone!
And when someone destroys everything you thought you’d known with a protectiveness in his voice for someone else’s well-being, anger tends to be the dominant emotion. The only one worth acting accordingly to.
So when Tony2 released its grip on hologram Steve’s clothes and pushed itself back with an expression of such hurt on its face, the nod was not expected to be all the projection would do. Even when Tony2 turned away to face the computer, the uneven rise and fall of its head for the following few seconds wasn’t enough to persuade anyone in the room that that reaction would be the only one. Even Peter’s hints towards a fight amongst the trio weren’t necessary for the assumption of a fight to occur amongst the group.
Since everyone’s gaze had shifted back to the holograms with a weariness that reflected their inner alertness, no one missed the way that right after Tony2 muttered a quiet; “Okay…”, the Iron Man helmet quickly covered its head as it raised a metal-encased fist. A fist which rapidly collided with hologram Steve’s face. The sound of Iron Man’s repulsor powering up filled the creepily quiet space, and despite the aggression having been expected, the way Captain America rolled across the floor with a grunt was still unnerving.
There are five stages of grief. The voice repeated. And the second is anger.
---
“Get out of here!”
---
“It wasn’t him, Tony. HYDRA had control of his mind!”
“Move!”
“It wasn’t him!”
---
“Left boot-jet failing. Flight systems compromised.”
“Ah, crap.”
---
“He’s not gonna’ stop. Go.”
---
“Come on, come on.”
“Target systems knackered, Boss.”
“I’m eyeballing it.”
---
“Do you even remember them?”
“I remember all of them.”
---
“This isn’t going to change what happened.”
“I don’t care. He killed my mum.”
---
“You can’t beat him hand to hand!”
“Analyse his fight pattern.”
“Scanning… Countermeasures ready.”
“Let’s kick his ass.”
---
It was strange.
Tony won’t go into detail – he doesn’t think he could do so anyway without breaking down and crying for the next few days. And he might have watched the holograms battle exactly like he had but it was like his brain wasn’t processing the information. He was seeing it. He knew he was. But what it was that he was seeing, in particular, wasn’t registering properly.
All that his mind could process was feelings.
He could feel the way his arm had ached and burned after it had broken when that ceiling had collapsed. He could feel the way his neck had been bent all the wrong ways when Steve had pulled him down by his head while Tony had been mid-flight. He could feel the blood as it had dried and stuck to his skin in dark, ugly clumps.
He’d exerted himself an unhealthy amount during that fight. He’d pulled on broken bones until they were so broken he couldn’t move them at all without losing consciousness. He’d felt himself choking on his own blood and panicking when he couldn’t breathe.
But – by far – what hurt the most was feeling that betrayal and pure rage resurface. Because those injuries – those life-threatening injuries – were given to him by one of the people he had trusted the most. By someone he had so foolishly considered family for years and that he still missed and loved like a brother and the self-loathing that came with feeling so dependent on others and being so pathetic.
Then there were the times when he would feel numb. Completely and utterly numb. His expression would become blank with matching wide eyes and sealed lips – no indication whatsoever that he felt anything at all. And maybe he wasn’t. Those moments were as frightening as they were relieving. On one hand, his emotions were so overly negative that it caused the inventor pain, but when those were gone? Then he’d feel hollow and empty and numb and he hated that he didn’t know how long it would last.
Those emotions and that pain weren’t current though. He’d forgiven Steve because all that the soldier was doing was protecting his HYDRA friend from Tony’s wrath. And those injuries that he felt weren’t real either. They were simply phantom pains – ghosts of the actual agony that the Siberia fight had left Stark in for the following three months (that many broken bones and that much internal bleeding take their time to heal after having to stick a machine in someone to keep their heart beating).
---
The humanoid projections would constantly split up after small one-on-one fights or full-on battles amongst the trio. Sometimes the camera would follow Tony2 as it flew, FRIDAY’s voice audible to the group every now and then. Other times it would trail after hologram Steve because the material room wasn’t big enough to show everything all at once.
FRIDAY’s interruptions, in particular, were almost random. Tony was certain that he’d spoken to his AI more times than was made audible to those present now, and although past Steve and Bucky were aware of none of those conversations they still happened. It was a weird combination of sounds and voices but that only seemed to make the recorded events more accurate and believable.
Damn Peter. Why did Spider-Man have to be so smart? And why in the world was I the one cursed with having to witness the wrath of two, young geniuses? After this, I need to have a serious talk with T’Challa about keeping updated on his sister’s friendship circle.
The audience’s reactions were overly exaggerated in Tony’s opinion. Swear words would be muttered under people’s breathes after particularly gruesome or worrisome attacks, and they would wince or grimace as if they were in actual physical pain. When Tony himself was fighting his friend, the billionaire hadn’t voiced his discomfort as much as the rest of the Avengers (minus Thor and Banner) plus extras were doing right now. Except for Natasha who looked perfectly indifferent and Stark himself who would only cringe or flinch occasionally.
Anyway, they didn’t have to act.
It was an unnecessary waste of breath. Sure those things happened and sure, Tony does need a machine in his chest to keep him alive and to prevent any fatal heart attacks because of all the injuries and stress which came with the trauma, but he was fine. Obviously.
But now that he was watching this fight rather than participating in it and feeling the way he stiffened every time Rogers so much as glances his way, Tony is starting to think that he’s wrong. Because if he was fine he wouldn’t be crying silent tears as hologram Steve throws yet another punch in Iron Man’s direction. He wouldn’t be forcing away panic and anxiety attacks every time he sees that fucking shield or that fucking Captain America costume or Bucky’s metal arm that tried to pull an arc reactor out of his chest once.
Maybe he wasn’t fine.
Maybe hating his own existence wasn’t normal.
Was it?
---
Iron Man had just blasted hologram Steve in the chest (with the power at less than 50% because Tony hadn’t actually been going for the kill). Naturally, Roger’s copy doubled over, falling to the cold, concrete ground in the process. Captain America was kneeling now, hands on the ground as it attempted to catch its breath.
Tony2 took a step forward in the dirty, red and gold suit. Its posture was perfect, and its head was tilted downwards slightly in order to view its opponent properly. After a second or so hologram Steve looked up, and despite the blood on its face being coloured blue due to it not being a physical being, the drying liquid remained painfully clear.
It took a few more, deep breathe before fake Rogers spoke. “He’s my friend.”
It was a truthfully weak attempt at defending its previous actions and everyone was aware of that fact. “So was I.” Tony2 replied, the Iron Man helmet warping the sound into something robotic, yet somehow the hollowness and anger that coated the words remained.
And so the fight continued.
Not a moment after Tony2 spoke it changed its stance. Its elbows bent and its right arm was thrown forwards in the form of a punch that connected with hologram Steve’s face almost immediately. Holo-Cap’s body lent sideways due to the mere force of the attack and before the ‘American Idol’s fake had a chance to react, Tony2’s other arm repeated the action. Once again, hologram Steve was on its knees, but with its side facing Tony2 rather than its front.
As fake Rogers coughed, Iron Man grabbed it by the back of its shirt and threw past Steve into a sloped, concrete pillar. Rogers’ back was the first to make contact with the structure and due to the speed of the throw, the humanoid projection bounced off and hit an identical pillar to its left. Fake Rogers now lay in a thin, sheet of snow between the two columns, tired and worn and on the losing side.
“Stay down.” Tony2 commanded and, back then, Stark had truly hoped Steve would. “Final warning.” Fighting one’s best friend was not enjoyable in any way and the billionaire had just wanted to be done. For it to be over so that he could have left that wretched place and never look back.
The inventor had already punished the pair enough. What was the point of dragging that torturous battle on?
But Steve – stubborn fucking Steve – had stood up then, so his hologram stood up now. Shaking and unsteady on its feet but it stood nonetheless and raised its fists into a defensive stance. It took the guy a while, during which Iron Man had simply watched in silence.
“I could do this all day.” Steve had claimed. It was almost disheartening to hear Rogers’ completely blue copy repeat that declaration with just as much determination in its tone.
Iron Man raised a hand, palm outstretched and repulser lighting up white as the energy built up for a final blast. It would only knock fake Steve unconscious. Nothing more. But then Bucky2 was awake, grabbing at Tony2’s leg.
It was enough of a distraction for Iron Man to take its eyes off hologram Steve – something which Tony will always be regretful for. Stark2 turned, kicking the now one-armed offender harshly in the face with a metal-encased foot. The sound which echoed around the space was loud and caused the previous, HYDRA assassin in question to flinch as the disturbingly familiar sensation probably shook his very core.
While Tony2 was still distracted, hologram Steve ran forward – fully intending to take advantage of the opportunity it had just been gifted. It picked Iron Man up, holding the suit and the inventor inside high above Cap’s head. Tony remembered how during that moment he’d blanked and run on instincts alone. The inventor blamed it on the adrenaline rush that had been finally leaving his system, but Stark can’t guarantee that that statement is accurate.
The suit’s soles lit up as the jets within the shoes turned on. Stark had only had one thought in his mind during that moment and that was; escape. Unfortunately, similar to what the cursed holograms re-enacted; the billionaire had failed. It was now Tony2’s turn to be thrown onto the ground and that’s exactly what happened. Even now Tony can recall the exact sound that he had heard the moment his body collided with the floor and that sound was; ‘crack’. Back then the engineer could only hope it was the suit making that noise, and it would only be weeks later after waking up and begging Pepper continuously to show him the doctor’s diagnosis that he would learn it was the sound of his skull fracturing upon impact.
Thanks for that, Rogers.
Now, hologram Steve was the one throwing punches at Tony2’s head. After about three direct hits to its opponent’s helmet, fake Rogers grabbed its nearby shield which it had dropped a while ago. Holo-Cap lifted the weapon above its head before slamming it down onto Iron Man’s face. At first, the attack seemed ineffective. So, naturally, hologram Steve repeated it.
And all the Avengers (minus Thor and Banner who were who knows where) plus extras got front row seats to watch.
So they did.
They watched as the Iron Man helmet was thrown off Tony2’s face to reveal an absolutely terrified expression and blood. A lot of it. They watched as hologram Steve’s expression only became more determined and angry. They watched as he lifted the circular shield above its head again. They watched as Tony2 covered its face with its arms protectively.
And that’s when they started shouting.
“Stop! –“
“Don’t! –“
“No! –“
“Wait! –“
“Tony! –“
And that surprised him.
So far everyone had been surprisingly quiet. But now – now that hologram Steve was raising its iconic shield above Tony2’s head as if aiming for the throat they were suddenly screaming at the top of their lungs. Even Natasha let out a strangled gasp as if she had been trying to hide her concern, but the sound made its way out of her throat anyway. T’Challa had a similar reaction in comparison to Nat and the only ones quiet were Vision, Steve and Bucky. Even Tony himself had let out something halfway between a choked sob and a pained, sharp inhale.
And here’s the thing; Steve never aimed for Stark’s throat because if the soldier had than Tony wouldn’t be here right now, and some small, rational part of everyone’s brain was aware of that fact. And even if Roger’s had gone for the kill and this hologram presentation was one of how the billionaire died then that small, rational part of everyone’s brain would know that yelling at a projection would do nothing to change that.
So why, then, were they shouting like lunatics?
Maybe they were caught in what they were watching, and amidst their panic of seeing one teammate seemingly about to kill another, they had done the only reasonable thing they thought they could. But Tony wanted to think that they were worried about the inventor and about what was seemingly about to happen to him in particular. That they actually cared about Stark.
But they don’t. Something dangerous whispered to Tony. Because if they did then Germany wouldn’t have happened.
Hologram Steve let out a yell and the shield came down fast in a blur of blues, smashing forcefully into…
Tony2’s arc reactor.
There were breathes of relief echoing from any and every corner of the room. The light coming from the damaged power source shone brightly, and Tony2’s own breathe of what was meant to be relief sounded more like a gasp. Is it wrong that I kinda’ wish Rogers had gone for the throat? If he had then I wouldn’t have had to suffer through – no, Stark. Don’t throw yourself a pity party now. Get it together.
Hologram Steve leaned on the shield that still stuck out of Tony2’s chest for a good, few seconds while catching its breath. And Tony2, well, it just looked at its victorious opponent with a scared and hesitant expression, afraid that fake Rogers would continue to dig that Vibranium circle deeper until it crushed Tony2’s heart (he didn’t but maybe he should’ve).
Then fake Steve practically collapsed off of Iron Man, leaving its fucking shield to stick out of the suit awkwardly. Then there were those next moments where Tony had realised he wasn’t going to die. That his former brother wasn’t going to finish him off and the following relief and disappointment crashed into the inventor all at once.
Eventually, hologram Steve stood up, forcing its shield out of Iron Man’s chest and re-attaching it to its arm. As holo-Cap slowly walked towards Bucky2, Tony2 twisted onto its side, some of the shattered, arc reactor remains falling off the destroyed suit and onto the concrete. Fake Rogers lifted its barely conscious, World War II companion off the ground, placing Bucky2’s arm around its shoulders in order to support the injured assassin.
“That shield doesn’t belong to you.” Tony2 suddenly exclaimed. It was leaning on its bent, left arm due to being in too much pain to so much as attempt a standing position.
Hologram Steve only continued to turn away now that the majority of Bucky2’s weight was being supported by the soldier. The duo had hardly taken another step forward and away from the dying Tony2 before Iron Man spoke again.
“You don’t deserve it.” It claimed. That caused fake Rogers to pause momentarily. “My father made that shield!”
There are five stages of grief. Came the voice again, its tone leaving no room for argument. And the third is bargaining.
Hologram Steve remained silent and still as if in thought. Then it simply nodded and tossed the scratched shield onto the ground. The sound of Vibranium hitting pavement made Tony’s ears ring and his body shake. But only for a moment.
Stark was used to playing pretend. What was the use of stopping now?
So hologram Steve walked away with Bucky2, a stupidly proud and victorious smirk tugging at its lips. And Tony2 stayed where it was, too weak to follow and the suit too damaged to repair or to use. Tony2 simply spit out some blood which had started to pool in its mouth before shifting into a forced sitting position, knees bent, and legs squashed beneath the rest of its body. The only indication that that movement caused the humanoid projection any pain was the hesitation and the pained hiss that forced its way out through gritted teeth.
Then, surprisingly, the holograms gained colour. It was slow and the fade was gradual, but it was there and soon the red and gold of the destroyed Iron Man suit glared back at the group. The grime and dirt coating the metal was painfully obvious, as was the rainbow of blues and purples that coloured any and all of Tony2’s exposed skin (despite there being very little of that).
Five seconds passed and Iron Man had remained still and immobile. Ten seconds passed and Iron Man still hadn’t moved. Twenty seconds passed and Iron Man was still silent and in the same position as fifteen seconds ago.
At the twenty-two second mark, it happened.
Tony2 fell backwards into the snow between the two pillars where fake Rogers had just stood not minutes before. Its legs were out in front of it, bent partially at the knees and not quite touching the ground. One arm was rested on its chest, the other squashed between the column and itself, with a few fingers clutching tightly to the armour around its hip.
The quiet lasted for another, full three seconds. Then it began. It started out at an almost silent volume, the wetness in Tony2’s eyes being the only currently visible indication that it was crying – or at least close to it. As the moments passed the sounds became louder and the tears started rolling down its cheeks in steady streams.
Then he – it – I? – was full-on sobbing.
---
Russia, Siberia, HYDRA facility.
May 6, 2016
-
They left. They actually left.
Tony didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. Steve Rogers had had Stark’s back for years now, but the moment the super-soldier’s, World War II, previous HYDRA weapon friend was found the ‘American Idol’ had abandoned that trust and brotherly love in order to gift it to Bucky. It was almost funny how quickly Rogers chose – how easy the decision seemed for him.
Stark would applaud him if the inventor wasn’t 93% sure that his arm was broken. And a few fingers. And his collar bone. And his ribs. And pretty much every other bone in his body besides his spine. The billionaire had to give it to the guy; Steve had managed to not only trick Tony into believing Rogers trusted him, but also managed to get Tony to trust Steve…with his life.
He sees now that that was a mistake, despite how little value Stark’s life held in the mechanic’s perspective.
I should be used to this by now. Tony mentally scolded. Betrayal is practically my life in a nutshell. Stark couldn’t help but stiffen as the thought occurred to him. But… Something kind and caring supplied, that shouldn’t make it any easier. Tony didn’t think he would be able to actually recognise anything with a kind or caring nature but somehow he did. Somehow he had.
And the fact that those emotions felt so foreign made him realise just how broken he really was.
Suddenly everything seemed as though it was spinning, and Stark could practically feel the nausea as it caused his stomach to do all sorts of impossible flips. He needed to lie down – he needed to lie down immediately, or he was going to throw up what little breakfast he had that morning. Or was it yesterday morning? He couldn’t remember.
His legs felt as though they’d lost their solid form, melting into puddles within his broken suit. Tony practically collapsed backwards into the snow, shivering as the coldness in the air seemed to intensify. Snow seeped into his exposed hair, the ice sticking in clumps and giving it white highlights.
Stark’s entire body seemed to scream in agony due to the unexpected movement, fractured bones protesting loudly with fiery-hot flares of pain. At that Tony had to restrict not only a flinch but a scream as well. He and pain were no strangers, but this kind of pain was different and reminded the billionaire vividly of Afghanistan. But he doesn’t think about Afghanistan. It’s bad for his mental health.
He’s not coming back.
Tears welled up in Tony’s eyes without his approval. Steve actually left. Now that the thought was back in his mind he could not – no matter what he did – get rid of it. It blossomed and clouded his conscious and was quickly followed by a; I’m all alone now.
Pepper had broken up with him. Rhodey was paralysed from the waist down. The other Avengers were being kept prisoner on the RAFT and even if they weren’t, they wouldn’t want anything to do with him anymore. And Steve had left. With Bucky. But not before almost killing Tony only to leave him for dead immediately after.
I’m all alone.
---
There are five stages of grief. Whispered the voice menacingly. And the fourth is depression.
---
A sob tore its way out of Tony’s throat. The sound was hoarse and strained but it was there. The tears that had pooled in his ghostly brown eyes fell, rolling down his blood-covered cheeks like waterfalls. And once he’d started, he couldn’t stop.
His whole body shook as he cried, tears freezing to his face uncomfortably. Each sob that left Stark’s lips was louder than the last and jostled his injured ribs painfully. He tried to lift a hand to wipe away any evidence of his misery, but it hurt too much to move even slightly. And even if he’d managed to the metal of the Iron Man suit would scratch at his face rather than dry it.
He wanted to be rid of that fucking metal suit.
He wanted to burn and destroy that broken machine, but he couldn’t. Because the moment he took that fucking suit off his body temperature would drop and he’d die. Human bodies weren’t meant to last in such cold environments for long periods of time especially with little protection and shelter. That suit was keeping him alive despite it being ruined beyond repair.
What if I don’t want to be alive?
Tony shivered at the reality that single question held. The truth that resided within each and every word. Nobody was coming for him because there was no-one left to do so. Nobody was going to miss him when he died because there was no-one left that cared.
So apparently it was a good thing that Tony couldn’t remove this red and gold, nitinol armour from his body if he tried. Despite how it was constructed light enough to keep the average, adult male airborne Stark couldn’t think of a time where anything had ever felt heavier. A time where this suit – this suit that was meant to protect him – had ever felt so constricting and tight, like an almost indestructible coffin which was locked securely over the inventor’s dying form.
Dying form. I’m dying. I – I – I’m dying…
It was what he wanted, right? He wanted to die because there was nothing left to live for. No Natasha, no Sam, no Clint, no Wanda, no Steve to go back home to. No family to love. Family. No, they weren’t family they were friends. Even back then their trust had been fragile and their like for one another limited. Some of them could hardly tolerate a fellow Avenger (himself and Wanda coming to mind in particular). Not to mention that some Avengers were completely MIA like Bruce and Thor.
I’m going to die. I’m going to die here, alone, in an abandoned HYDRA facility and it’s going to be because of the injuries Steve gave me. I’m going to die alone and no-one’s going to care.
---
“This continued for the following eighteen hours. Mr Stark passed out shortly after his constant crying resulted in a tear in the tear duct and a blood clot, which, combined with his various head injuries, caused blood to accompany his tears. The ‘blood crying’, as Peter referred to it, remained for the following hour and a half.” Karen informed, speaking for the first time in a while. “He remained unconscious for the following twenty-three hours. It is a miracle he woke up at all.”
---
Stark didn’t remember losing consciousness nor did he remember waking up, yet somehow, he knew he had.
Tony released a sound similar to a whimper, the action causing his now dry throat to throb and groan in pain. The billionaire had long ago stopped shaking due to the cold, a fact which should be extremely worrying. But Tony wasn’t aware enough to realise nor in the right mental state to care.
“Hey, Fri? How long do you think it’d take for me to die?” The inventor questioned, his voice soft and allowing his fragile mental state to become audible. “Do you think there ‘re any cameras around here? You’re broken s’ you can’t record a mess’ge for me. But d’ you think there’re any camer’s around that w’d hear me?”
That time his speech was more slurred. Stark particularly struggled to pronounce vowels correctly or at all. His vision was darkening, and he felt disoriented, but he ignored all those symptoms of hypothermia in favour of talking to his absent AI.
“I’ll t’ke that as a y’s. M‘kay. Hey there c’m’ra.” Tony hadn’t moved. He’d been staring at the concrete ceiling for however long, a cloudy sky visible from the corner of his eye. “T’ll Pepper ‘m sorry for dy’ng. A – and, i – if you ev’r see Cap t’ll him I’m s’rry too. I didn’t m’n to hurt him. I w’s mad a – and being a b’d friend.”
Stark knew he had to apologise before he died. He had to let those he’d hurt know that he was sorry. He missed his friends. He missed his dysfunctional family – group of friends. He missed Steve. And he missed thinking that someone – anyone – cared about him.
“And ‘m sorr’ about Buck’s ‘rm. W’sn’t p – planning t’ blast ‘t off. B’t h’ was pulling out my ‘rc react’r. Obadiah d’d that t’ me once, b’ck when I st’ll n – needed ‘t to surv’ve a – and I just panick’d. T’ll the other Avengers th – th’t ‘m sorr’ too. I didn’t w’nt to fight. Didn’t w’nt t’ lose nobod’. Guess th’t backfir’d, huh. I w’s scared a – and they w’re thr’tning to k’ll y’all ‘f I didn’t c’tch you f’rst.”
Tony had no tears left to cry. He was dangerously dehydrated, and it was becoming hard to breathe. Was that normal? It had to be if it was happening to him. Nothing weird happens to…to…who was he? He felt drunk and light-headed and was he supposed to not be breathing?
“T – tell P’ter th’t I’m sorr’ f’r d’ing, too. I know h’ l’ks ‘p to me. H’ shouldn’t though. ‘m a t’rrible r’le mod’l. Alw’ys dying ‘n sh’t. S’pris’d you guys w’ited th – th’s l’ng t’ leave m’. T’ll P’ter he’s too pure f – for h’s own good. T’ preci’s. M’ke s’re h’ kn – knows th’t he’s gonna’ b’ b’tter th – th’n all ‘f us. Stup’d k’d gettin’ m’ wrapp’d ‘round h’s fing’r. I h’rdl’ ev’n know h’m ‘nd he’s ‘lread’ gotten’ me to w’rry ‘bout h’m. Fuck h’m.” He stuttered.
Something was in his mouth. It tasted metallic and was climbing up his throat rapidly. It pooled on and around his tongue to the point it coated every tooth and crevice. He choked on the mysterious liquid, wincing as his throat protested angrily. The billionaire tried to spit it out. Tried to rid himself of that fucking – blood. Something sad and hollow provided. That’s blood.
Tony’s body jerked and twisted as he tried and failed to inhale. He felt the panic set in, the fear awakening enough for the inventor to ground himself momentarily. It’s okay. Tony mentally assured himself. It’s okay. You apologised. You can go now. It’s okay. It’s okay.
---
There are five stages of grief, and the last is acceptance.
---
So, he let his vision darken. He let the black spots grow and widen until they hid every sliver of light there was to see. He let his tense body relax as the warmth of unconsciousness replaced the cold of reality.
And, if he didn’t know better, he would have thought he’d seen a frantic Peter rush towards him with the use of the kid’s unnatural speed. If Stark didn’t know better, he would have thought that that welcoming heat had come from the shaking fingers a certain Spider-Kid pressed to his face. If Tony didn’t know better – if Tony hadn’t lost hope and accepted these circumstances a long time ago – he would have possibly considered that the concerned voice he’d heard scream was not a figment of his imagination.
“Mr Stark!”
---
Tony watched as the humanoid projection’s body spasmed viscously.
If anyone wasn’t in tears before when they heard Tony2’s slurred apology they surely were now. The abnormal twitches of Iron Man’s limbs were unnerving to witness alone, but with the added broken suit of armour that was now destroyed and horribly disfigured, red paint indistinguishable from crimson blood, the group couldn’t help but feel sick to their stomach.
But there were also other gruesome details Stark hadn’t been unaware of at the time. Like the fact that his skin had turned a concerning shade of blue, a feature which was accompanied by chattering teeth. Then there was the blood. All of the blood. It leaked from within the cracks of the suit, sliding down the sides of the armour and colouring the snow. It even leaked onto the nearby, ice-free concrete floor, permanently staining the pavement in the ugly hue.
And the blood on Tony2’s face.
It tangled into its brown hair, which explained the unexpected haircut Stark remembered being told he’d received while he was in a coma state for those first few days (they didn’t cut all of it off, but it was still significantly shorter and the billionaire partially wished he hadn’t known the cause of that particular action). The maroon liquid leaked from Tony2’s eyes, painting its sclera an unnatural red that reminded the inventor of a character from a horror movie he watched a while back.
And now, as Tony2 shook violently, the snapping of fractured bones echoing around the room, even more, blood was added to the mess of red. It pooled in its mouth until the dark liquid hid its tongue and teeth before it proceeded to overflow. The blood trailed down the hologram’s face from the corners of its lips until it joined the practical lake of similar liquid on the ground.
Now, Stark was no longer watching due to being too scared to look away, but because of curiosity. The billionaire couldn’t remember anything that occurred following the choking on blood…thing and seizing as he rapidly approached his end. Well, he could remember something, but it had to have been a hallucination.
Right?
He ignored the rational part of his brain that reminded him that Peter himself had stated otherwise. That Peter, the kid that hardly lies because he’s so bad at it, had been the one to find Tony on the brink of death in Siberia. Because that little – yet very important – piece of information could have only been included to make Cap feel guiltier than he already did…right? Please tell me I’m right.
Then Tony noticed it.
The hologram looked exactly like the kid, and the improved colour palette only added to the realism. It was three-dimensional, just like the other projections. Its messy, brown hair bounced vigorously on it its head as Peter2 raced towards Tony2. It screamed out in panic the moment it caught sight of the state Iron Man was in.
“Mr Stark!”