Chapter Text
Tony found himself unexpectedly shaken by Howard’s news -- he couldn’t help but wonder if his father’s paranoia actually had some basis in fact. Tony stepped outside to take a stroll on the boardwalk to help clear his mind. Without a coat, the wind off the ocean bit all the way down to his bones, but it also blew away the stifling feeling of having to keep pretending to be something he wasn’t.
“Stark!” A voice behind him called out, and he turned. It was Deputy Director Fury, his long black trench coat waving in the wind. Tony stopped to let the older man catch up with him.
“Yes, sir?”
“Just wanted to say that robot of yours is really something. I might have some of our SHIELD R&D guys come talk to you, see if you’d consider helping us out on some projects we have going.”
“I’m flattered, sir,” Tony replied. “But of course, I’d have to plan any consulting around my duties at SI.”
“Understood. By the way, I was wondering how friendly you are with your neighbor.” Tony blinked in confusion at the abrupt change in topic.”
“Who, Clint?”
“Agent Barton, yes.” Fury replied, as if the answer had been obvious.
“Well, we chat in the hallway, and he sometimes comes over for pizza and a movie. Why do you ask?”
“Wanted to know if he’s said anything about the Russian girl to you.” Tony hadn’t realized Clint was still on the Roman case, or for that matter, that there was still a case to be pursued.
“No sir, can’t say that he has.” Tony didn’t quite see the point of this conversation, but he figured it was best to be polite to the second in command at SHIELD.
“What about your father? Has he seemed distracted or particularly secretive lately?”
“Not that I’ve particularly noticed, but I’ve been pretty busy with my own projects,” Tony replied. If he were going to speak to anyone about Howard’s behaviour, it would be Aunt Peggy, not a man he barely knew.
“Well, if you or your roommate see or hear anything out of the ordinary, let me know.” Fury handed over a business card.
“I’d be happy to oblige, sir.”
Tony went to find his mother and say his goodbyes before driving back to the city. “Looks like another successful weekend, Mom -- and I’m not a bit surprised. Since Pepper and I have to work in the morning, I think we’re going to be on our way.”
“Thank you, dear. And I’d better wrap things up here as well. Did your father tell you he wanted to leave for Bermuda tonight? Claimed he had a business meeting tomorrow in Hamilton. I swear, I haven’t gotten that man to simply relax and and enjoy a vacation in at least a decade. Hopefully, we won’t be back in the city before the first of the year.”
Tony thought of his own New Years’ plans and the small box tucked away on top of his bookcase. “I might have some important news to tell you when you return, Mom.”
“Oh, Tony!” Maria exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she looked around for Pepper.
“Don’t say anything,” he cautioned. “It’s a surprise.” One hell of a surprise, he thought.
Still beaming, his mother kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you, dear. I wish you both the best. I love you, Tony.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Tony let Pepper and Steve lead the conversation on the way home, as he felt emotionally exhausted by the whirlwind of events. Pepper gave him a look of concern when they dropped her off, but she simply said she’d see him at the office the next day. He was just pulling into their neighborhood before he remembered the SON cameras had gotten left behind. Damn. He’d call up to the beach house in the morning; Jarvis and Ana would still be there setting things to rights and he’d ask if they’d mind bringing the equipment back to the city.
Steve got the luggage and they trudged up the stairs to their apartment. Tony lay down on the couch with a groan; it felt good to be home again. He moved enough to let Steve sit down, putting his head in his beloved’s lap and sighing heavily as Steve stroked his hair.
“Hell of a weekend,” He opened his eyes to see Steve’s smiling fondly down on him.
“You did good, sweetheart. Let’s get something to eat and head to bed.”
The phone rang in the wee hours of the morning. Steve answered it, but then nudged Tony, saying, “It’s for you.”
“H’lo?” Tony mumbled.
“Tony. There’s been an accident. Your parents...” It was Jarvis, sounding more grave than Tony had ever heard him be.
“What? What happened?” A jolt of adrenaline ran through him. There was silence on the line for a moment, then Ana spoke.
“Your parents, dear one. They’re gone.” Of course they were gone, Tony thought confusedly, Dad had said they were flying to Bermuda. Then the true meaning of her words hit him.
“No.... no... that.... that can’t be right ....” he stammered, his blood running cold. Steve took the phone from his lax hand.
“Could you repeat that, Ana?” Steve asked carefully. He listened for a moment, then said,” Can I speak to your husband, please? Yes, Mr. Jarvis, it’s Steve.” A lengthy pause. “Of course. Yes, that’s a good idea. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Steve put down the phone, took Tony’s hands and said, “Tony, why don’t you shower and get dressed. I need to go ask Clint for a favor.” He pulled on sweats and left the bedroom.
It was a dream, it had to be a dream, or a nightmare. But he didn’t wake up, not after the shower, not after getting dressed, not even after meeting Clint in the hallway and getting pulled into a completely unexpected hug.
“Tony... man, I am so sorry,” Clint said, his voice rough as he clapped him on the back twice before releasing him. He then turned to Steve, all business. “Where we headed?”
“Do you know how to get to Montauk?” Steve said, handing over the keys to Tony’s car.
Steve had pushed the passenger seat all the way up before climbing in the back with Tony, for what little extra legroom it gave him. But Tony was immensely thankful to have Steve by his side literally as well as figuratively during the long drive back out to the far side of the Island. Tony had expected that they’d go out to the house, but instead, Steve directed Clint to the resort.
“Mr. Jarvis said we’d find them here, as it’s more of a central location than the beach house,” he explained.
The sky was so overcast they could barely tell that the sun had come up; the weatherman on the radio warned that squalls were in the forecast. Stepping back into the lobby they’d left less than twenty four hours previously, they found not only Jarvis, but Fury and Peggy, who opened her arms as soon as she saw Tony.
“Oh, Auntie...” he said, his voice breaking. She held him close, one hand rubbing his back as she tried to console him. As the men introduced themselves, Tony could have sworn he heard Fury call Steve ‘Captain’. He supposed the secret identity could only have lasted so long around an organization designed to ferret out the truth.
“Agent Barton, come with me out to the accident site,” Fury commanded. “We convinced the local authorities not to move the car until we could give the area a good look in the daylight. Director Carter, Mr. Jarvis -- you’re on the phones. Keep trying to get a hold of Stane and check back with the security company. I can’t believe they don’t have backups.”
“What about me, sir?” Steve asked. Tony turned his head to see Fury give Steve a once-over.
“Alright, Rogers -- you’re with Barton and me. Can always use another pair of eyes.” Steve glanced over to Tony, who gave a small nod. He knew Steve would feel more useful actually doing something rather than sitting with him.
The three men left, and Tony followed Jarvis and Aunt Peggy back to one of the hotel rooms. Ana was already there, jotting down some notes. When she saw Tony, tears welled up in her eyes.
“My darling boy, I’m so sorry...” She motioned him over for an embrace, patting his head and murmuring in Yiddish. Her familiar perfume calmed him, bringing him back to the days when a skinned knee or pinched finger was the most painful thing that had ever happened to him.
“I’ve started making arrangements,” Jarvis broke in. “But there’s a great deal left to do.”
Tony tried to keep busy, going down to the hotel desk to ask for their New York City area phone books and bringing back coffee and pastries from the coffee shop. He considered calling Pepper and Rhodey, to let them know what happened. But he didn’t think he could say the words. A numb feeling crept over him, almost as if there were a glass wall forming around him. Tony was only half-listening when Jarvis finally reached Obie and broke the news.
“If you must know, Mr. Stane, the accident happened on Cliff Drive, that last nasty curve just before you reach the highway.” Jarvis responded sharply to what he must have considered an inappropriate inquiry. Tony suddenly remembered the cameras.
“Aunt Peggy, I need to go out there,” he told her.
“Anthony, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she replied, concern written all over her face.
“I put cameras out there, as part of my robot demonstration,” he insisted. “I forgot to take them down afterwards. They might have recorded what happened.” That got her attention.
“All right, Tony. Get your coat on.”
Tony suspected Peggy was taking the back roads on purpose, as it would be less likely for them to run into the tow truck hauling the wreck of his father’s car back into town. He assumed his parents’ remains had already been taken to either the local morgue for an autopsy or a funeral home. He couldn’t remember if anyone had told him where they were. He didn’t know if he’d be asked to identify them. Or if he even could, depending on how bad the accident had been.
“Tony,” Peggy’s concerned voice broke his reverie. She reached out with her free hand towards his. Only then did he realize he’d been clenching his fist so hard he’d drawn blood with his nails. “Perhaps we should have waited. Steve or Clint could have--”
“No,” Tony interrupted, “I want to be there. To see with my own eyes what happened.” He wiped away the wetness on his cheeks. “I want to say goodbye.”
The air still stank of spilled gasoline. Its trunk split nearly in two, the tree the car had hit would almost certainly need to be cut down. The dirt road was too solid, too frozen to clearly show any skidmarks or tire tracks. He couldn’t help but wonder if his father had tried to calm his nerves and had one too many before getting behind the wheel. Tony would have to tell Aunt Peggy about his father’s erratic behaviour and secret activity over the past few months... but just not right now. He had a job to do.
Tony retrieved his cameras and hard drives. He wouldn’t know if the equipment had survived the bitterly cold nights until he could hook everything up to his computer. By the time they got back to the resort, the others had returned as well. Peggy insisted they all have lunch before resuming their work but Tony had absolutely no appetite, The soup he’d ordered grew cold in front of him as he sat and stared out at the ocean. Not even Steve’s warm, solid presence next to him kept the numbness at bay.
“Is it just me,” Fury said, “or is it more than a little suspicious that the facility where the footage from the surveillance cameras is sent was broken into and vandalized last night?” He turned to Tony. “Carter says your cameras might have recorded the accident, Stark.”
“Yes, but I don’t have any way of checking. I didn’t think to bring my laptop with me.”
“I bet there’s a computer around here the staff could be persuaded to let us borrow,” Fury replied. “Would that work, or do you need special equipment? Software?”
“I should be able to kludge something together,” Tony stated.
“Good.” About twenty minutes later, Fury was wheeling in a catering cart with a monitor, a CPU and keyboard, along with a pile of cables into their hotel room “Have at it.”
With the help of a sharp knife and some duct tape, Tony cobbled together what he needed to connect the hard drives to the computer. He panicked for a moment when he realized the borrowed system didn’t have software to play the video, but then remembered he’d installed a simple playback program on the hard drives themselves.
“I think it’s ready to go, sir.” Tony said. He’d found a large file on both drives with the same timestamp: 12/16/1991 07:00 PM. He started with the camera that was further away from the impact site, thinking that perhaps it would provide a better view of the event.
“Agent Barton, Mister Stane should be arriving any time,” Aunt Peggy said, “Please ask him to wait for us in the lobby.” Clint glanced at Fury, who gave a curt nod.
“Yes, ma’am,” Clint replied and left the room. Ana had gone to lie down after lunch, which left Tony, Steve, Jarvis, Aunt Peggy and Fury in the hotel room. “Deputy Director Fury, if you would--” Peggy started.
“No, I would not,” Fury responded crisply. “I think I need to be right here.” Steve shot Peggy a glance, but she shook her head slightly. Tony didn’t care whether Fury stayed or went. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to stay, to see what happened. Tony pressed the ENTER key to start the playback.
His father’s car was moving fast -- too fast -- when the video started; Tony thought he saw something pass by the vehicle as it skidded at an angle around the curve before coming to a terrible, abrupt stop. The car was on the opposite side of the road from the camera, having crashed head on into a massive tree. They couldn’t see its left side, only the rear and a bit of the right. A motorcycle coming the other way entered the frame and stopped. What kind of idiot rode a motorcycle in the winter on country roads, Tony wondered.
“Wait a minute” Fury said, “Mr. Jarvis, didn’t you say you were the first one on the scene?”
“I thought I was,” Jarvis responded disbelievingly. “When the SI jet pilot called the house to see what was delaying the Starks, I went to see if they’d stopped somewhere in town, and I found this instead.” Peggy waved at them to be silent as the rider dismounted the cycle and walked slowly to the passenger’s side of the car; a strange reaction for anyone coming upon such a horrific accident.
He -- Tony assumed the rider was a he -- opened the door and appeared to be reaching inside, but the car itself obscured what was going on. Maybe he was checking for a pulse, or attempting to communicate with Maria. But why wasn’t he going for help? The edge of town was only 10 minutes away, maybe fifteen minutes at most on the slick roads.
Tony hadn’t realized he was clenching his fists again until Steve took his hand and laced his own fingers through Tony’s, moving to stand close behind him, silently offering his strength and support.
They saw movement inside the vehicle, then the driver’s side door opened partway before swinging suddenly the rest of the way open, as if someone had violently pushed it from the inside. His father. Howard must not have died in the crash, at least not right away. He had still been alive and had been trying to go for help.
The motorcycle rider rounded the vehicle, bending down out of their view for much too long. They watched him rise slowly, lifting something. Tony gasped when he realized that what the man was putting back into the driver’s seat was Howard’s body. The trunk lid popped open, and the man retrieved a case. Strangely, he walked over to the pole and held the case up to the security camera before returning to the motorcycle and driving off.
Tony was in shock. It hadn’t been an accident. The crash had been deliberate, almost certainly caused by the motorcycle rider, with that case as his objective. Howard had been right all along, and not only hadn’t it saved him, but it had taken his wife, Tony’s mother was well. A wave of grief crashed over Tony, pulling him under to drown.
“Anthony, dear. Do you know what was in that case?” Peggy’s voice trembled as she put a hand on his shoulder. Tony knew the question was important, that the answer was important, but it was all so complicated. He didn’t know where to start, all he could do was nod as tears spilled down his cheeks. Heedless of their company, Steve embraced him, whispering words of comfort as Tony clung to his beloved.
“Tony,” Fury broke in after a moment, brisk and businesslike, “Your other camera, wasn’t it on the same pole as the association’s camera?” It was somehow a relief to not hear sympathy or commiseration from the man; he’d simply asked a question. A question with an easy answer. Tony stepped away from Steve and turned to face the Deputy Director.
“Yes, just a little lower down,” Tony quietly responded.
“Then play that video, please. It should give us a good look at the suspect’s face.”
Watching the events unfold a second time nearly undid Tony, even as Steve continued to hold him close. This angle showed the driver’s side of the car clearly. Tony saw his father, broken and bleeding, fall out of the open door, stubbornly crawling only a few feet before the man grabbed him and pulled him up by the hair. Raising his fist, the killer struck Howard hard again and again until he was limp and lifeless.
When the assassin held up the case to the security camera, they could see his left hand glinting like metal. “I know who that is,” Peggy breathed. “It’s the Winter Soldier.”
“No,” said Steve, his voice cracking. “It’s Bucky.”