Work Text:
:::::::
“Oh, Shellhead! I’ve been looking for you. When did you get back?”
Tony rolls his eyes. He can afford the expression because all Steve can see is Iron Man’s blank faceplate.
“Hey, Cap. About a minute ago, together with Mr. Stark.”
“I thought Stark was holed up in his workshop downstairs,” Steve says, brows furrowing.
“He was. But he had a meeting scheduled for this afternoon. I went with him to do my actual job. You remember, right? Being his bodyguard, saving his life, making sure he stays alive. He keeps me on my toes when I’m not avenging.”
Steve chuckles. “I remember, Shellhead. Everything went okay?”
“It did,” Tony reports, glad that his annoyance won’t show through the voice modulator.
Sneaking back into the tower without raising suspicion is getting progressively trickier. It’s one thing to keep the true identities of Tony Stark and Iron Man separated but it’s a whole new thing to keep Iron Man’s most recent endeavours secret from the team.
“Good. He’s been keeping you busy these past few weeks.” Steve lets the statement hang.
“Mr. Stark is a very busy man,” Tony says. “Which means I’m very busy as well.”
“Let me know if you want me to step in. I’m sure I can manage babysitting Stark for one evening if it means you get to catch a break.”
Steve’s face is so earnest that Tony makes a mental note to take him up on the offer. He won’t be able to ‘catch a break’ but at least Steve will feel a bit better about the pressure Iron Man is under.
“Thanks. I’ll think about it,” Tony says. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”
Steve waves his hand. “It can wait. I’d hate to keep you up. Take some rest.”
They part ways and Tony pretends to continue to his floor until Jarvis tells him Steve has reached his rooms and won’t be able to hear him anymore. Tony manages to get to his workshop without running into anyone else.
He starts stripping down the suit the moment the door closes behind him. “So, that was a bust,” he says grumpily. Maybe Iron Man joining SHIELD wasn’t Tony’s best idea. All they’re letting him do are pointless missions filled with hours of aerial surveillance and boredom. No intel whatsoever.
“Indeed, sir.”
“What time is it now in London, J?”
“Way too early, sir. Would you like me to deliver the usual message to Ms. Potts later in the morning?”
“Yeah. Thanks, J.”
Tony leans against the workbench, fiddling with the latch on his right glove that refuses to open. “Some music, please, Jarvis.”
“Right away, sir. Shall I–”
“Just make sure no one bothers me, okay? No Fury or any of his agents, no Avengers, nothing. If Manhattan is burning in flames, then let me know. Otherwise, not one peep from you for the next… three hours at least, capiche?”
In reply, the music starts pouring from the speakers. Tony is still struggling with the glove, the fingers on his left hand too frozen to get a proper grip. The latch holding the wrist guard together refuses to give. Tony curses, grabbing a nearby screwdriver.
He needs more coffee. Or maybe something stronger. It’s ass o’clock at night, he’s just gotten back from the latest SHIELD mission and he’s no closer to finding any information than he was five weeks ago.
Tony grits his teeth, trying to pry the latch open.
He needs to be patient with SHIELD and patience has never been his strong suit. If there is something that is taking too long, Tony Stark finds a way to make it go faster. Iron Man can do jack shit to make SHIELD trust him faster. But if there is information so dangerous Fury is keeping it off the online servers, it’s worth Tony’s time.
“Sir,” Jarvis says, his tone reproachful.
“Not now,” Tony says curtly. He puts his right hand on the workbench, twisting so that he can see if there is anything jamming the elbow juncture. The problem with the suit is that crossing one wire there could cause the suit to act up funny in an area one would least expect it. Like that time last week when rain got into an exposed tear in his side, cutting off Iron Man’s commlink.
“Sir-”
“Now’s not the best time, Jarvis.”
Today, Tony thought he got away just fine. There wasn’t even a scratch. Mainly because the guy aiming for Iron Man’s head in the morning ambush slipped and the shot went wide.
“Sir, there-”
“I know, J, I know,” Tony mutters. “Too close for comfort.”
Maybe if he scraped the metal with just the tiniest bit of acid, it would allow him to take the guard off. He grabs a safety glove, puts it on and drips two drops of the dangerous liquid directly to the problematic latch.
“Sir, I have to insist-”
The metal sizzles and Tony grabs the screwdriver again, poking at the spot where the two pieces of his suit connect.
“That I stop doing this, I know, J, but that’s not an option.”
“Sir,” Jarvis says, and is that irritation in his voice? Tony frowns. He knows it’s tempting fate, playing SHIELD like this. He simply couldn’t resist when Fury came to him and asked, no, demanded, that Tony Stark let Iron Man join SHIELD. Tony had always been too nosy for his own good. No better chance to keep a close eye on SHIELD than from the inside.
“Don’t say anything, J.”
Jarvis doesn’t say anything, turning the music off instead. The sudden silence is ringing.
“What the fuck, Jarvis?”
As composed as ever, Jarvis says, “Someone triggered the protocol 455-37. Sir.”
That stops Tony dead in his tracks. “Someone what?! Christ, J, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve been trying to,” Jarvis says drily.
“Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. Fury’s been driving me nuts and I – give me the feed, J.” Tony throws the screwdriver back on the bench.
“My apologies, sir,” Jarvis sighs, “I’m afraid the cameras have been disengaged.”
“Disengaged?” Tony echoes, thrown off balance. “Disengaged as in, someone tried to break into the mansion and succeeded?”
“That would be correct, sir.”
“But what did they do about the alarm?”
“The alarm system appears to be disabled as well, sir.”
Throwing his helmet back on, Tony hastily exits the workshop. “Reboot–”
“Already did, sir. Twenty eight seconds before we are back online.”
Tony laughs. “They’re good, aren’t they?”
“They still set off the trigger,” Jarvis says, sounding petulant.
“But they got past the first line,” Tony says excitedly, equal parts offended and impressed. Damn. Anyone who had both the guts and wits to get this far was a person Tony would love to meet. He put the alarms in place himself, creating a system that should have covered all the blind spots. He installed the same security in the tower and neither Natasha nor Clint were able to sneak past it.
Tony feels the adrenalin flood his veins. “Do we know where in the house they went, J?”
“I can confirm an entrance though the east wing, sir. Likely a single figure.”
“Can you get into the city feed from down the street to see if they’re ransacking the attic or the basement?”
“Inconclusive, sir,” Jarvis reports apologetically seven seconds later.
His excitement raises as he flies over to the mansion. He’s pushing the limits of the suit. To a naked eye, he is nothing more than a brief blur against the night sky.
:::::::
He lands on the balcony on the first floor, careful to stay shielded from sight. He needs to secure downstairs first. There is hardly anything valuable an intruder could steal from the floors above.
Tony carefully slips off his suit. The suit hasn’t been built with stealth in mind and the heavy footsteps would alert the intruder to Tony’s presence immediately. Flying all over the house wouldn’t be any less noisy, the repulsors alone make enough noise to make the Hulk sound like a soft footed cat.
The stupid glove on his right hand refuses to give, the latch holding stubbornly to the wrist guard. There is no way Tony Stark is walking around his mansion with Iron Man’s gauntlet on his hand. He still has the safety glove on and he quickly puts it on his other hand instead, hiding the metallic piece of the suit from sight. It makes for a great self-defence mechanism, too. The intruder won’t expect Stark to be armoured. It’s dark enough he might pull it off.
“Keep me updated, J,” Tony breathes out faintly, knowing the AI can pick it up.
He steps inside, keeps his steps light, his right hand in position and his back to the wall.
It’s been ages since he’s been to the mansion. The building has been sealed off for so long that the air should be stuffy and full of suffocating dust. It’s not.
Tony feels the hairs on his forearms rise but he determinedly threads forward, further into the dark depths of the house he once called home. He needs to move somewhere less open. Between the ornate balustrades, there is nowhere to hide. Tony creeps down the stairs. It’s like he’s five again, sneaking around in the quiet house at night, holding his breath for fear of Howard catching him out of bed.
The mansion is no longer familiar; all the things Tony has never bothered to move out of the house cast tall shadows, making it look like Howard is about to step out from any of them, a firm grimace on his face and a curse of the tip of his tongue.
Somewhere above him, the floorboards creak and Tony goes perfectly still.
No other sound follows and Tony spends the next few seconds debating if it’s been the house settling after the scorcher they’ve had today, or if he’s heard the intruder.
“J?”
“Cold boot completed, sir.”
“POST?”
“Also completed,” the AI says into Tony’s earpiece.
“So we’re up and running again?”
“Not exactly, sir.”
“Fix it,” Tony whispers.
Above him, the floorboards creak again and then comes a faint thud. Tony is nearly at the bottom of the stairs but he turns, deciding he needs to investigate the sound. He’s here to catch the intruder. He’s armed and he’s skilled at capturing dangerous people. There is no doubt the person currently in the house is dangerous – he’s managed to get past Tony’s security. If it weren’t for the silent trip alarm being triggered, Tony would have never known the integrity of his system has been compromised.
Tony changes course and heads back upstairs, past the rest by the balcony, past mother’s favourite sunroom on the first floor. The sound came a little further from within the mansion.
Eyes quickly flying through the corridors, Tony tries to find anything that would stand out. There is nothing his eyes can see but the tingling at the back of his neck tells him otherwise. There is something about the house, like it’s holding its breath.
There is no new message from Jarvis. Tony slows his steps. The west dining hall, empty. Howard’s sitting room, completely bare, sans one arm chair. The grand terrace, with all its connecting doors boarded shut. The portrait corridor, without any portraits.
The house is giving him the creeps.
Then, at the end of the corridor, he sees it. Canned food, neatly stacked beneath the window which has been cracked open, letting in the crisp night air.
Tony’s heart skips a beat and then starts beating so fast and strong Tony can’t hear anything else in his ears.
Jarvis still hasn’t reported anything new.
Tony inches nearer to the cans. Definitely not something he would have forgotten laying around.
Something glistens, catching his eye. One of the cans must have spilled because now that he’s looking, he sees the pools of dark liquid on the ground, seeping into the carpet mother had picked.
He regrets having ditched the suit because Jarvis could analyse it in a flash.
Tony looks around, cautious more than ever but he doesn’t see anyone lurking in the dark hall. There is nowhere to go from this part of the mansion and Tony is sure he heard the noise coming from here. Except, oh, of course. The ladder to the attic.
Tony inches closer, wondering who in their right mind would be hiding in the attic. He grabs the pole and tugs at the ladder, which unfolds easily. Tony melts into the shadows of the opposing wall, eyes trying to penetrate the opening in the ceiling. Nothing moves in there.
Tony places one hand on the first rung, eyes flickering back and forth. He pulls himself up and just manages to get his feet on the ladder before his hand slips.
Distracted, he glances down. This time, Tony recognizes the smeared dark liquid for what it is. It’s so close to his face he can smell the blood now that he knows it’s there.
He climbs up, listening for every sound.
At the top, he pauses for a few seconds, reluctant to expose himself. His breathing is shallow and fast, chest aching with the all too familiar pain.
He braces himself, raising his hand in a defensive move and covers the remaining distance, half expecting to be attacked the moment his head pokes through the door.
Nothing happens. Tony’s eyes adjust to the darkness. With trepidation, he realizes the attic has been turned into a sniper’s nest. The spot is secluded. The dormer offers a great range.
Over the floor are scattered magazines and knives, scrapes of paper and a couple of guns. By the time Tony realizes that the dark shape hunched near the dormer is not a drape, it’s too late and he has a gun pointed at his head. He dodges the first shot at the last second, dropping to the floor like a stone.
“Don’t!” Tony says quickly, holding his hands up.
The next shot doesn’t come.
The gun in the guy’s hand wavers, then falls to the floor. The guy’s head lolls to the side and his shoulders are shaking, and Tony can’t tell if he’s crying or laughing. “Stark.” It’s like a curse.
Tony takes a step forward.
“Go away,” the guy hisses sharply, opening his eyes and pinning Tony with his gaze. In the darkness, his eyes seem incredibly dark and dangerous. “Go away,” he repeats. “You’re not here. Not here. You can’t be here.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Tony says because he can’t help it. “I’m pretty sure I’m here. And you’re here, too. Which is a problem, because this is my house, or at least technically it still is, and you’re– bleeding. Sweet Jesus, you’re bleeding. Okay, fuck. Hold on.”
There is so much blood. Tony moves forward on instinct, kneeling down next to the guy, pushing the gun out of reach. With his left hand, he touches the injured shoulder and the guy blinks at him and frowns.
“You can’t be here,” the guy mumbles again and tries to sweep his hand at Tony. His movements are sluggish and Tony catches the guy’s right hand and carefully holds it down. There is a lot of blood and Tony can’t tell where exactly it is all coming from.
The guy’s eyes slide shut again and his posture relaxes, his body sagging against the ground.
Not good, not good at all, Tony thinks, running his hand over the floppy mess of the guy’s dark hair to check for possible head wounds.
“No, no, no. Don’t fall asleep on me, man.”
There is no reply.
Tony’s fingers brush upon something protruding from the man’s neck. He pauses and leans close to take a look. It’s a blow dart, its sharp tip wedged deep in the guy’s skin.
“Oh fuck,” Tony groans, feeling around the puncture. He recognises the type of the dart. It’s barbed and tugging it free would make a mess of the wound, damaging the soft tissue.
Tony inspects the way the dart has pierced the skin and his eyebrows raise in surprise. The skin is already healing, trying to knot together around the metal that is in the way and close the wound. That, more than anything, makes things click into place.
SHIELD asked Tony Stark for Iron Man’s help, without telling either of them what exactly was the mission objective. There have been whispers here and there about someone breaking out of SHIELD’s custody.
Someone who can escape from one of SHIELD’s cells and someone who can break into the mansion… the guy in front of him must be it.
With morbid curiosity, Tony grips the dart with his right hand, the one that is still protected by the safety glove and the armour, and tugs it free.
The guy doesn’t make a sound and Tony watches in fascination as the skin recovers and heals without scarring.
There is no doubt in Tony’s mind. In front of him is another one of SHIELD’s secret experiments. But this one has managed to escape. Tony feels a spike of something akin to sympathy. Yeah, he knows a thing or two about being kept hostage and forced to do things he didn’t want to do. Looks like SHIELD is no better than AIM or Hydra.
Tony reaches out with his hand to trace the healed skin. The second his fingers touch the guy’s neck, his eyes flutter open and he lashes out, nearly managing to hit Tony. He’s still too out of it, though. Tony doesn’t see any new blood which is good but whatever has gotten into the guy’s system must be strong. The guy tries to shy away, raising one hand to shield himself. Tony waits a few moments and sure enough, the effects of the drugs in the guy’s system get the better of him.
Before Tony can decide what to do next, Jarvis signals an incoming call from SHIELD.
“Right now?” Tony snaps.
“I’m terribly sorry sir, but it’s the director himself. He was being… persistent.”
“Who is he calling?”
“Iron Man.”
“All right. Put him through,” Tony says. “Wait, no. Shit.”
“The voice modulator, sir?”
“Exactly. Put him on hold and tell him to wait.”
Tony glances at the guy in front of him. A guy who managed to escape SHIELD. A guy whose existence SHIELD is trying very hard to keep a secret. There is no way in hell Iron Man is helping them find him.
With a tremendous effort, Tony wrestles the unconscious man down into the master bedroom and puts him in the bed. He grabs a piece of paper and scrawls down, This place is safe from SHIELD. You can stay. I’ll be back.
Then Tony hurries to the balcony through which he came in. “All right J, I’m ready,” he says as he puts the armour on.
“The director didn’t want to wait, sir. He told me to tell you to come directly to the headquarters.”
“At two in the morning? What for? My half-assed mission report?”
“He didn’t say, sir.”
“Fucking SHIELD.” Being summoned by SHIELD can’t mean anything good.
Tony launches into the air and keeps raising high above the city.
:::::::
There are three agents waiting for him when he lands on the helicarrier. Tony is escorted to the director’s office.
“Good morning, sir,” Tony greets politely, which is very unlike Tony Stark but quite like Iron Man.
“There is nothing good about this morning, Iron Man,” Fury says. “Take a seat.”
The chair protests noisily underneath the weight of the armour but it holds. The silence stretches. “You asked me here?” Tony prompts.
“Can I trust that any information you gain here is strictly confidential?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Please bear in mind that SHIELD is your employer here and not Mr. Stark.”
Ah. Diplomacy. Tony can do diplomacy. “I don’t have to report anything to Mr. Stark. Although I’m sure he’d appreciate having any information you are giving me.”
“Out of the question. Tony Stark cannot know this. Is that clear, Iron man?”
“I won’t tell Stark anything,” Tony says truthfully.
“Good.” Fury folds his arms. “As I am sure you are well aware of the security clearance–”
Tony has heard this one before. “Do you need me to sign it again?”
“To your right,” Fury says.
Tony glances at the table and sure enough, there it is a folder with the papers. He skims it over as he flips to the last page. He grabs a pen, holding it between his thumb and pinkie, and leaves a neat signature on the dotted line. If only Pepper could see him now. She’d have a stroke.
“All right, sir. Now can we get to why you called me here this late?”
There is a brief stare off which Tony wins because hello, an emotionless faceplate.
Then Fury finally asks, “Are you familiar with the name Winter Soldier?”
“No, sir. That doesn’t ring any bells.”
“He is an assassin of Hydra. A highly efficient killing machine that has been in use for nearly the past century.”
“A century?”
“As far as we can tell, yes.”
Tony is chilled by that information and the armour is the only reason the shudder doesn’t show. “He’s not human, then?”
“There is nothing human about him.”
Tony is quickly trying to piece it all together. “Has he been assigned a new mission? Is he a threat?”
“He is a threat and he is on the loose. We cannot confirm if he has a new mission but we have our suspicions.”
“That’s why I’ve been monitoring random parts of the city over the past few weeks?” Not so random after all.
“You and our best agents, yes. With the technologies you have in that suit, we hoped we might recapture him quicker.”
“I see.” Recapture. “Are there any theories on who is his next target?”
Fury nods. “We have a reasonable suspicion that it might be Mr. Stark.”
Typical SHIELD, Tony fumes. “Why didn’t anyone inform me sooner? Don’t you think that as his bodyguard, I should have been told when you first recruited me? What makes you think it’s Mr. Stark anyway?”
“Quite recently, our experts recovered a security tape from the night Mr. Howard Stark and his wife were killed.”
Tony’s stomach drops. “Killed?”
“Indeed,” Fury says grimly and waves his hand at the near projection screen. It flares to life and soon, grainy old footage starts playing. There is no sound, and the quality of the video is poor despite all the enhancements the technicians surely must have done. It still shows too much.
Tony can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. He doesn’t want to watch but he can’t look away.
The more seconds pass, the more his wounds open. The memories come flooding back in and it’s as if the night had been only yesterday, mere couple of hours ago. He can still hear his mother’s laugh and his father’s stern voice and he remembers how the sharp wind felt against his face and he feels Jarvis’ bruising grip on his arm when they were told the news. The blue and red lights of the police car keep flashing in front of his eyes.
By the time the footage ends, Tony isn’t able to think straight. “He’s on the loose? You said he was on the loose.”
“We are doing our best to recapture him. We’ve been working with you and some other experts to–”
There is the word again – recapture. Tony stops listening. He staggers to his feet. “We need to get him.”
“That’s why we recruited you to help us.”
The only thing holding him upright is the suit. Gladly, no one can see the expression on Tony’s face. “Mr. Stark should know.”
“That is out of the question, Iron Man,” Fury says warningly. “You even signed your agreement not to tell him.”
Bloody SHIELD and all of their secrets.
“You should have informed Mr. Stark the moment you learnt about this.”
“Stark is too unstable,” Fury says. “It is unnecessary to share any information with him.”
There is ringing in Tony’s ears, his throat has closed up and Jarvis is persistently displaying his vitals in bright red colour in front of his face.
Tony doesn’t remember how he gets back to the Tower.
:::::::
It’s hours before Steve discovers him sitting in the kitchen, the suit still on.
“Iron Man!” Steve exclaims when the light switches on. “You’re up early today.”
“Hello, Cap,” Tony says. “Back from your morning run?” The words feel funny in his mouth, so mundane, so ordinary. He’s saying them on autopilot and he has no doubts that thanks to the suit, he could keep up the pretence of nothing being wrong. Or he can tell Steve. Steve who has lost so much more and is still up an functioning, somehow.
He glances at Steve who is picking an apple from the fruit bowl and polishing it by rubbing it against his shirt.
“Cap, can I speak with you?”
Steve nods and moves to sit at the table next to Tony. Tony makes a subtle gesture for Jarvis to keep an eye out. Last thing he needs is someone overhearing them.
“What can I do for you, Shellhead?”
Tony draws in a breath. He exhales. He retells the assassination of Mr. Stark’s parents, including every gruesome detail the tape revealed. He watches Steve blanche but he goes on with the story until there is nothing else to say.
They are both quiet, Steve at loss of words, Tony trying to hold it together long enough not to blow his cover.
“You don’t seem too surprised,” Tony realizes.
Steve looks away. “They told me about the Soldier. Not about the security tape, though.”
“We need to get him. The Winter Soldier.”
“Yeah, we really do,” Steve agrees quietly. “We’ve been trying for weeks, though, and we still can’t find him.”
“Mr. Stark could–”
Steve looks up at that and his eyes meet Iron Man’s face with startling sharpness. “Does Stark have to know about everything?”
“He should know about things that concern him, don’t you think?”
“As much as Stark tries,” Steve says and for a moment he sounds so much like Fury that Tony sees red, “there are things he has no idea about. You don’t have to report everything to him, do you?”
“SHIELD expects the Winter Soldier to come for Mr. Stark next. If you don’t think Mr. Stark should know about it then I’ve got nothing else to say to you.”
Tony starts to get up but Steve is quick to stop him. He looks incredulous. “They think he’s after Stark?”
“Yes. They don’t want to tell him, though they have no problem using him as a bait.”
“That’s terrible,” Steve says.
“Yeah, they tried to make sure Mr. Stark doesn’t know what’s going on right under his nose. That’s SHIELD for you.”
Steve clears his throat. “I meant about the Winter Soldier.”
“What about him?”
“He’s not after Stark.”
Tony doesn’t understand anything anymore. “What?”
Ah, there it is again, the shifty look on Steve’s face. “I need to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone else.”
“Oooh, a secret! Sure thing. I can keep a secret.”
“Shellhead, I’m serious.”
“So am I,” objects Tony, “you wouldn’t believe the secrets I’ve been keeping.”
“You can’t tell anyone, especially not Mr. Stark.”
There makes Tony pause because, “No can do, Cap.”
“That’s what I meant. You tell the man everything, Iron Man. Can’t you be your own person for once? This is really important to me and I need your help.”
Tony sighs. Only him, seriously. “Maybe you shouldn’t be telling me.”
“I definitely shouldn’t be telling you,” Steve nods. “Can you promise me Stark won’t know about this?”
“I can promise you I won’t tell anyone about what you tell me,” Tony rephrases. It seems to be enough for Steve. He leans closer to Iron Man and launches into a story about a long-lost friend.
:::::::
“We need to find him before SHIELD find him again,” Tony concludes.
Steve looks relieved that they are on the same page. “I don’t know what they’ve been doing to him since they captured him.”
“I don’t trust SHIELD either,” Tony admits. “But why don’t you trust Mr. Stark?”
Steve sighs. “Not this again, Shellhead. We can’t tell Stark because he wouldn’t see a reason. He’d help us find him all right, but then don’t you think he’d want the killer of his parents to face justice?”
“You don’t give him enough credit, Cap,” Tony says tersely. “If you explained to him like you explained to me about the whole Hydra brainwashing thing, I’m sure he’d understand.”
“I can’t risk it. If Stark finds out and tells SHIELD, then Bucky doesn’t stand a chance.”
“I know Mr. Stark,” Tony says and unconsciously his hand strays to touch his chestplate, “he’s not a fan of locking people up and using them as weapons. You should tell him, it might surprise you how reasonable that man can be.”
Once the conversation is over, Tony grabs a drink and holes himself up in his workshop. His peace doesn’t last long.
“Sir, Captain Rogers is requesting a meeting.”
Tony groans. “I’ve just talked to him, can’t it wait?”
“Sir, he wants to speak with Mr. Stark.”
“Oh. In that case, let him in.”
Steve remains on the doorstep to the shop. “Mr. Stark?”
“Captain America!” Tony exclaims, throwing his hands to the side. “Welcome to my workshop. Come on in. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Stark.” Steve fidgets. It’s hilarious watching him be so awkward around Tony when he’s so comfortable around Iron Man. “I wondered if you could spare a minute?”
“Anything for our good Captain,” Tony snipes.
Steve ignores Tony’s behaviour and walks into the workshop. “I think we should clear up a few things.”
“Oh, really?” Tony finishes his drink and goes to pour himself another. He tilts the glass in Steve’s direction in a silent offer but, unsurprisingly, Steve shakes his head.
“No, thanks. I mean, yes, I came to talk to you about something and then ask you if you’d help us.”
“Alright. I’m listening.”
“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you,” Steve says. “But I think it’s only fair if you know what we’re up against.”
“Hang on a second, is Captain America about to breach protocol?”
“Steve Rogers is about to breach more than one,” Steve says with a wry smile.
“Someone must have put in a good word for me,” Tony says, enjoying the moment. He already knows what Steve is going to tell him.
“Well,” Steve admits, “Iron Man and I discussed this first.”
:::::::
“Sir, If I may,” Jarvis says, startling Tony from his work.
He’s working on the repairs on the suit, thinking about the new update patch for the heat control system that has been a nuisance the past few days. “Yes?” Tony wipes at his brow and hands over the scratch awl to Dum-E who promptly drops it on the floor. Tony smirks and nudges it with the tip of his shoe closer to Dum-E’s claw.
“It’s your, ah, it’s your house guest, sir.”
“How is he?”
Dum-E lets out a victorious little whir when the claws finally close around the awl and pick it up. Then comes a miserable beep and the arm droops. “The third shelf from the right, love,” Tony whispers as if Jarvis couldn’t hear them perfectly well, and comfortingly pats his useless little helper. “That way,” he points to his right.
“He shows signs of waking up.”
“Ha! Make sure he stays put, I’ll be right over.”
The guy is already up and awake by the time Tony arrives to the mansion but Tony still counts it as a win. If the guy really wanted, he could have been long gone by now. Instead, he is in the master bedroom, stacking his weapons along the walls.
“Wow,” Tony remarks as he observes the scene.
The guy doesn’t even turn to face him. “Did I trip the alarms again?” he asks, completely at ease. Tony supposes he’d be too, in the guy’s place, with all that weaponry at his disposal.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t trip the alarms if I added you to my guest list.”
The guy does turn at that, his expression guarded. “Why would you do that?”
Tony boosts himself up onto a chest of drawers and leans back against the wall. “Because you’ve got two options here,” he says. “First, you tell me why you broke into my house and why you are on the run from SHIELD. Or second, you don’t tell me anything. In which case, I’ve got SHIELD on speed dial.”
“Shield is Hydra. They want me dead, I want them dead. Either you’re with them and then I want you dead as well, or you’re not and I couldn’t care less. It’s not a puzzle, Stark.”
“Tony, if you’d please,” Tony says. “You call me Stark and it makes me think of my father.”
The gaze turns sharp and Tony can’t help but squirm under the scrutiny. “This used to be your father’s place.”
“D’uh,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Opulent mansion, loud charity balls, wild parties in the gardens – it all goes hand in hand.”
The cold grey eyes are still assessing him and the look on his face turns thoughtful. “Your father would invite many people in here.”
“Of course he did. Which still doesn’t tell me how you got here.”
“Would you believe me if I said your father invited me?”
“Nice try,” Tony says.
“The place looked familiar? I remembered that SHIELD and Starks don’t mix well.” There is something funny about the way he phrases that but Tony decides not to dwell on it.
“We really don’t,” Tony shrugs. “Which is good, I guess. You said SHIELD was Hydra – what did you mean by that? I think we’d notice a bunch of Hydra creeps running around.”
“SHIELD doesn’t know what’s going on in SHIELD.”
“Huh,” Tony says, dragging his finger through a layer of dust that’s gathered on the drawers. “Keep talking. And while you’re at it, mind telling me your name? It’s not fair, you see, you know me already, which I can’t blame you for, you would have to live under a rock never to have heard about me, but I think it’s only polite if you at least tell me what I can call you.”
The guy smirks, not thrown off by Tony’s tirade in the slightest. “Polite? Who said I’m polite?”
“New house rules, pumpkin.”
“Where do I file the tenant complaints?”
Tony wipes his finger against his sleeve and when he glances up, his gaze locks with the guy’s amused one. “I like you,” Tony decides.
The guy chokes on a laugh. “You don’t even know my name.”
“Eh, what’s in a name,” Tony says, and the guy laughs freely. A deep, rich sound that Tony immediately likes.
Wheezing, the guy gets out, “James, I’m James.”
:::::::
The Winter Soldier is still a problem. Tony, like always, comes up with a brilliant solution. “Ta-da!” He waves his hand at the holographic display and looks at Steve, expectant.
“Uh.” Steve shifts from one foot to the other. “A wanted poster?”
“Not just a wanted poster,” Tony parrots. “This is the wanted poster. This is the way we find him.”
“It just shows the picture of the Winter Soldier and promises reward for any information. No offence, Mr. Stark, but I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Nonsense, this is foolproof,” Tony dismisses. “And I thought we agreed on you calling me Tony. I didn’t dream that part up, did I?”
“You didn’t, Tony,” Steve says.
“Great. Now – no, no, no, don’t make that face, Steve. This is going to work. Jarvis?”
Jarvis doesn’t need any other clue, he shows a detail of the poster. Tony walks through it, turns to Steve and start pointing. “See this part right here? It tracks a position of the poster and, J?” Jarvis displays another holograph, this time a map of the city, with a grey grid overlaying the streets. Tony rubs his hands. “And each poster we put up shows up here. Now, once someone sees the guy, they just press this part of the poster right here, from the other side, of course,” Tony demonstrates. “Each poster has this inbuilt distress call, or an alarm button if you will, so any civilian can alert SHIELD if they think they’ve spotted the Winter Soldier. The position shows up on the grid, more people see him, we know exactly where he is. Reverse tracking. It’s brilliant, you see?”
Steve scratches his head, trying to take it all in. “So, how does that help us?”
Tony holds up one finger. “Obviously we don’t want SHIELD to get there first. Which is why the system first sends a ping to me and gives us a head start. Only then the alert actually shows up for SHIELD.
“Oh, alright, I see,” Steve nods. “It’s not actually a bad idea.”
“Great. Now you just have to sell it to SHIELD,” Tony grins.
“What? Why me?”
“Because a, I don’t know anything about the assassin, do I? And b, I’m not the person you’d want to present your ideas to SHIELD. It would end in a shouting match, I can guarantee that.”
“But surely Iron Man–”
“Is not much better, is he? One might say his people skills are a bit rusty.”
Steve looks offended on behalf of his friend and boy, doesn’t that make Tony feel touched.
“Iron Man is a good person, Stark. Maybe sometimes he’s rash but his heart is in the right place.”
“He’s still not on SHIELD’s most popular employees list. You, on the other hand…”
“Alright, alright. I’ll talk to them,” Steve heaves a resigned sigh.
:::::::
“What is that?”
Tony flinches. He hasn’t heard any steps behind him. Shit, this guy is good. “Nothing,” he says, too quickly. On a night this dark, every shadow moves if you look at it too closely.
James leans against the wall next to him, crosses his arms and tracks Tony’s every movement with a piercing gaze. Tony licks his lips and continues to secure the poster to the wall.
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” James says. “Is that a wanted poster?”
“Yup,” Tony says. No point in lying about that, the picture of the assassin and the thick bulky letters on the top of the poster are pretty self-explanatory.
“Haven’t seen one like this before,” James prods.
“It’s a new thing. The posters are connected through an electronic network. When people spot the guy, they just press their palm against this part, it takes a scan of their palm and sends an alert, together with a location.”
“Impressive,” James drawls.
“Yeah, it’s my… my employer’s own concept.”
“Poor guy,” James says, tapping the poster with his right finger.
“Careful there,” Tony says, smacking his hand away. “Wouldn’t want to send the distress call by an accident. Well, you’d have to hold your whole palm against it but still. Don’t fuck around with this. It sends your palmprint directly to SHIELD.” Tony pauses, waiting for James to react to the mention of SHIELD. James doesn’t react.
“All right,” James shrugs. “What’s the deal with the guy anyway?”
“Dunno,” Tony lies. “Probably killed some people or something.”
“Doesn’t that make you nervous?”
“Me? Ahaha. No, of course not.” Tony taps the location into the poster and activates it. Now just to make sure it stays in place.
James slouches against the wall. “Are they putting these posters all over the city?”
“Nah. Just the locations the guy is likely to appear at.”
“Like your house?”
Shit. Tony walked right into that one, didn’t he? “Well. I suppose.”
“You don’t have to be afraid, you know?” James says suddenly. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. You’re perfectly safe.”
Tony pauses. “Oh?”
“He’s not going to hurt you, I promise. I’ll make sure of it.”
Tony can’t remember the last time someone said something like that to him, let alone with such conviction. The sudden swell of affection takes his breath away. He looks at James, who is perfectly serious and looking down at him like Tony is something precious to be protected at all costs.
Tony surges forward, crushing his lips into James’. For a second, James is frozen still and Tony’s heart skips a beat, his brain kicking into gear a second too late. Oh shit, why doesn’t he ever think before acting?
James moves his arms but instead of shoving Tony away, he runs them up Tony’s back and slides them around Tony’s neck, pulling him back in. Tony takes his chances, tilting his head and stealing another kiss, tracing the shape of James’ upper lip with his tongue. James parts his lips and lets out a soft gasp. This time, the kiss lasts longer. Tony sneaks his left hand around James’ waist, fingers clutching at the fabric of James’ shirt and holding on tight. A soft moan escapes him.
James pulls away a little to draw in a breath. When Tony blinks his eyes open, James is already watching him, pupils blown wide, his lips still parted.
“Tony,” James whispers. His voice is deep and the sound of his own name breaks over Tony as a wave. He shivers and presses closer to James, the pull too powerful for him to ignore.
“Yeah?” Tony breathes out, tilting his head to the side of James’ head, nosing at the tender underside of James’ jaw.
“What are you doing, Tony?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Tony murmurs to James’ ear and tries to bring their bodies closer still. Big mistake. Big bloody mistake.
James laughs and puts his hand out to brace it against Tony’s chest, probably to push at him playfully. Instead, his fingers brush against the arc reactor.
Tony’s blood runs cold.
“Tony?”
“I…”
The poster next to them flares to light. The Winter Soldier has been spotted on the 22th West Street. If you have any information, please contact SHIELD directly, runs along the bottom of the poster, together with instructions and cautions about the palm print and the consequences of a possible misuse.
“Let go of me,” Tony says even as he breaks free from James’ hold.
“Don’t go,” James pleads.
“I have to. The Soldier…”
“It’s just a false alarm,” James insists.
“Uh-huh, and how would you know?”
James opens his mouth but he doesn’t say anything. Tony lets out a nervous chuckle and starts gathering his things. Maybe James didn’t realize, maybe James didn’t know. Maybe he thought it was a bullet-proof vest. Everyone knew Stark could be eccentric.
He feels James’ eyes follow him as he leaves.
:::::::
James is right, it is a false alarm. Something Tony didn’t count on while designing the posters was Hydra learning about them and setting up a trap. Then again, Tony could have hardly suspected that half of SHIELD was actually Hydra in disguise.
Said SHIELD-turned-Hydra agents are already waiting for him, more than ready to take down Iron Man the moment he arrives on the scene.
Tony swiftly dodges the first round of shots fired at him. “Jarvis, call Steve, he’s needed here right now.”
“I already took the liberty, sir. Captain Rogers is on his way.”
“ETA?”
“Fifteen to twenty minutes, sir.”
“Too long,” Tony hisses.
The agents are gaining on him, one of his repulsors is down to 20% and if he doesn’t want to endanger any more civilians, he’s got nowhere to move.
“Should I put him through?”
“Yes, thanks, J,” Tony wheezes as one lucky shot hits his shoulder and the blast flings him against a building.
“Iron Man?”
“Yeah. Listen Cap, we’ve got a little problem here.”
“So I’ve heard. What’s the status?”
“The Soldier is nowhere in sight. There are Hydra agents posing as SHIELD, I think it’s them who sent the false alert.”
“There must have been a snitch at SHIELD,” Steve says tightly. “I’ve tried calling Fury but I can’t get a hold of him.”
“This doesn’t look good,” Tony says, taking in the way the agents separate into different vantage positions. The night is dark and he can barely see their outlines. He can’t take them out from his cover. Too late to realize his suit should come with a night vision.
“Hold on, I’m on my way.”
Tony would love to, but if he doesn’t move, he’s a sitting duck. He ends the call and peers over the roof, trying to make out the shapes down on the street below him.
There is some commotion in the group that is trying to scale the building. Shit, there are too many of them. There aren’t many people he can trust right now not to turn Hydra on him. “Jarvis?”
“Sir?”
“Can you call our lovely houseguest? And tell him to bring his guns.”
“Your, ah, lovely houseguest doesn’t appear to be at the mansion, sir.”
Tony doesn’t feel the sting of disappointment at that. He doesn’t. “Oh. Alright.” One of the Hydra agents turns his head skywards, scanning the rooftops. Tony ducks before he’s spotted. “Are his things gone as well?”
“The guns are gone, sir,” Jarvis reports obediently.
Well, Tony is an idiot. What did he expect? James is probably crossing a boarder to another state and not sticking around, waiting for Tony Stark to solve out his mess.
Tony draws in a breath, steels himself and hauls himself over the edge of the roof. His arms are drawn palms up, the repulsors ready to blast.
The agents are already prone on the ground, harmless.
Tony frowns, landing gracelessly on the pavement. There is a movement behind him and he swivels around, ready to attack.
“Oh c’mon, there’s no need for that. I thought we made it clear that I don’t want you dead.”
Tony lets his arm drop. His heart is beating madly in his chest and he can’t help but stare at the man in front of him. From the long shadows, the unmistakeable shape of the Winter Soldier stands out.
“What? Like you can be the only one to hide secrets?” He waves his hand at Tony’s arc reactor. The soft glow form the street lamp catches on the metallic arm during the motion and Tony freezes still.
“You?” Tony breathes out, taking a staggering step away from James.
James’ arm closes around the armour, lightning quick, and Tony is yanked back into the shadows. “Stay put,” James says curtly, eyes tracking the movement behind Tony’s back.
“What are you doing here?” Tony asks.
James shoots him a glance. “Saving you from the obvious trap. You didn’t let me explain anything.” James tightens his hand in a fist. Now that Tony focuses, he can pick up the soft whirring and he files the sound away. There will be time to find out how exactly to make the mechanism more efficient. James takes Tony’s silence as a sign of mistrust. “I’m not out to get you.”
“Yeah, I gathered,” Tony nods.
“I actually need you to help me find someone.”
Tony turns back to face the street to watch out for any other agents. He is very aware of the fact that he is essentially turning his back on the Winter Soldier but he supposes that if he hasn’t got himself killed by now, then it’s just not happening. “That’s the only reason you stick around?” Before James has time to react to the loaded question, Tony goes on, “Because if it is, then I’m pretty sure I can help you out. Steve should be here in a few minutes. He told me about you.”
“Oh. I see.” James is very quiet, then, “Is there anyone else we can trust?”
“The good news is that SHIELD made quite a few enemies and Hydra made even more. Me, you, Steve, Natasha, Bruce. We have this club, you’re invited.”
“You think they’ll trust me?”
Tony shrugs. “If I can trust you…”
“Tony, I–”
“On your ten,” Tony interrupts.
James takes aim before Tony is finished speaking but he doesn’t fire. He goes perfectly still, and so does the figure on the top of the building above them.
“C’mon,” Tony says, offering James a hand. “I can give you a lift up. J, tell Steve to wait up for us before he goes after the rest of Hydra.”
James sneaks one hand around the armour as he steps closer, and the look on his face is close to reverence. “I don’t think Hydra stands a chance now.”