Work Text:
December 16, 1991.
Howard steps into his car, Maria sits next to him, relaxed in the passenger seat. The image of the suitcase with the new super soldier serum secured in his trunk flashes before his eyes. He’s tempted to go outside and check the suitcase again, to make sure it’s really as secure as he thinks it is. His fingers tap against the steering wheel and he checks his watch. There’s no time to check again so he starts the car and turns towards the gates, making his way towards the road.
There’s something unsettling about tonight.
They drive in comfortable silence for a long while
“You shouldn’t have been so harsh to him,” Maria says. Her voice is soft and her beauty unparalleled in his eyes, even at her age. She’s aged with insurmountable grace. Howard knows that he falls short as a husband but they both know that he’s too rigid for change. He’s not suited for it, too used to it being his way or the high way. There’s someone else, they know, who will be more flexible, like iron, where Howard has always been hard as steel.
“I need to be harsher with him,” he says instead, “That boy is too soft. If he’ll ever take over the company he needs to develop iron skin, Maria. I’ve tried to teach him for all these years and he’s never thought of being even the least bit grateful.”
“But he’s trying. Howard, he’s always trying.”
“Well trying, isn’t good enough if he never gets anything don—”
The car swerves. They hit a tree.
Maria is dead on impact.
“S-s-sergeant Barnes?”
December 16 has never been a pleasant day for Tony.
Before, it was because of the day’s proximity to Christmas which required additional smooching with other rich folk and their conceited incredibly obnoxious and arrogant children.
Tony isn’t denying that he himself possesses those traits as well but Justin Hammer and Tiberius Stone were both leagues beyond him.
He’d never appreciated how he had to suck up to the likes of them just because their fathers owned Stark Industries’ competitors. Stark Industries was miles ahead of them and would leave them in the dust the second Tony took over so why bother kissing ass, he thought.
On those cold December nights, even at his young age, he’d always longed for Ana and Edwin Jarvis and his lab.
After, December 16 became a black mark on the calendar. Tony would amp up the sleep deprivation and get blackout drunk the night before so he could sleep through the day those first few years. If he did wake up, because God never gave him anything resembling a break, he’d grab for the whiskey bottle next to his bed and drink until he passed out.
He’d gotten a terrible case of alcohol poisoning like that once.
After waking up to Rhodey’s distressed face in a hospital bed he decided to change the ‘tradition’.
December 16 became the only day he spent agonizingly sober. He’d look at pictures of his parents and think to himself, ‘Well dad you might have died today because of your drinking but I’m not going to follow in your footsteps.’ Not today at least.
Most of the time he’d still sleep the day away though or he’d float amongst waves of self-loathing fuelled by something Obadiah might have said the day before and the gigantic portraits of both his parents that hung in the entryway. Howard’s judging gaze following him even when the man himself is no longer alive.
His mother is a different story.
Only after Tony had declared December 16 his one day of complete sobriety could he start grieving her properly. She deserved better than what he’d been doing. So he decided to make her proud if only a little and he cut back on his drinking. Hoping that the soft look in his mother’s portrait’s eyes was real and not the delusions of a grief-stricken child.
Maria Carbonell deserved better than the cards the universe had dealt her in Tony’s opinion.
She’d been ensnared by her love for Howard and once everything went downhill it was too late for her to escape and the man she loved all those years ago became her death sentence.
Tony hopes she’s freer in the afterlife.
December 16 is a completely different story this year. He knows now, about his parents. About the way they really died and who was responsible. He has a partner and he's been sober for years.
He doesn't know what he wants to do initially, not on this day, when he always wakes up with lethargy in his bones, shackling him to his bed.
He'd woken up that morning in James's arms, as always. James had already been looking at him, eyes still half-closed but awake beyond a shadow of a doubt. His hair was spread around him on the pillow.
Tony had pecked him softly on the lips and asked, "Wanna go on a date?"
James had agreed without too much thought, still not fully alert.
Tony knows it's kind of weird to call his plans a date, but he's always been good at deflecting. It's always been a part of how he copes so being upset with himself isn't going to accomplish anything. What he does instead is lie in bed with James for a little bit longer, take a long hot shower with his boyfriend afterwards and then ask again, "Wanna go on a date?"
"Tony," James had said hesitantly, "Do you know what date it is?"
"December 16. I know," Tony hesitated for a moment, "I just, I think it's time for me to finally visit their graves after all these years and I'd like you to be there when I do so for the first time."
James smiled at him, soft and precious but also fragile. Tony could see the thinly veiled guilt behind his eyes.
"It's a date," James said. Tony had leaned over and kissed him, then linked their hands together.
"It's a date."
In hindsight, visiting your parents’ grave with their murderer is probably not the best idea.
When that murderer is also your current boyfriend, your father’s long lost friend and you’re visiting the grave as a ‘date’. Well, you can’t get much worse than that.
But Tony has always been unorthodox in his methods, so why not add another thing he’s weird about, right?
He’s a multi-billionaire, he can write this off as another one of his eccentricities and the public will have to accept it, hopefully, the same logic will also work on his parents’ spirits.
He entwines his fingers with James’s and gives his hand a squeeze. James squeezes back, reassuring.
They’re at the cemetery’s entrance, it's a big one in Uptown New York, outside the city, where many other rich families have private family graves. Tony knows that one day his casket will be joining his parents here but he's been wondering if it's really for him. He's been thinking about getting cremated instead. About letting the arc reactor be the only thing left of him because it's more him than he is most of the time.
His posture must go rigid because this time James squeezes his hand, Tony squeezes back.
Tony takes a deep breath and together they enter the cemetery.
It's time for closure.
The Stark family grave is as grand as the family it belongs to. The gravestone, made of solid marble, polished to an immaculate shine, reflecting the moonlight and engraved with his parents’ names at the bottom feels almost as imposing as Howard was when he was still alive.
James becomes increasingly tense next to him and he doesn’t relax, even when Tony squeezes his hand or rubs his knuckles.
They’re just standing there before the looming gravestone in silence. Nothing but the rustling wind and the eerie atmosphere of a cemetery in the evening.
Tony wants to talk, wants to say something in front of his parents’ grave, to explain himself, to apologise or beg for forgiveness. To wish them well and tell them he’s doing good, that he misses them even Howard, who was never kind to him. Sometimes he still misses him.
Like his treacherous brain sometimes still misses Stane, these are the thoughts he has to live with and maybe saying them out loud will help.
Yet every time he goes to speak, his throat goes hoarse. His mouth goes dry, his tongue becomes a heavy unmoving muscle in his mouth. As if his body is telling him not to do it, like this will change too much, and he won’t be able to go back.
Staring in front of his parents’ grave on the anniversary of their death, with his boyfriend at his side makes Tony Stark—Iron Man—a coward, because he can’t get himself to speak.
He breathes in deep, gives James’s hand another squeeze and when he doesn’t get a reaction he forcefully puts James’s arm around his shoulder, leaning into his side.
“We’re okay,” he whispers, for James’s ears only, “we’re gonna be okay.” James doesn’t make a sound but his head moves in the faintest nod.
James is just as scared as he is, just as uncomfortable and out of place but perhaps it’s been too many years of discomfort.
He’s Tony fucking Stark, Iron Man , he’s got the world at his feet, it doesn’t matter that Captain America thinks he’s a disappointment compared to his father. It doesn’t matter if Captain America finds him unworthy and childish and egotistical. He’s heard those things all his life, heard them from his own father before the Captain ever uttered them.
He’s stronger than that, and his parents are dead, he’s not looking for their approval anymore. He’s here for his own closure and for James’s closure.
That’s it.
He takes another deep breath, lets all the air escape his lungs and speaks.
“Mum, Dad, I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit before,” he chuckles, “I’m not sure how much you guys can see from up there but it’s been a hectic few years since you passed,” James tenses further, his fingers pressed into Tony’s side enough that it hurts just a little. Tony grits his teeth and bears it.
“I wanted to apologise just a little bit, I know what really happened now, I’m sorry that’s how you came to your end our relationship might not have been the best but you guys deserved better than this, everyone disserves better than that.
I would have liked to have you around for a little bit longer, even though Howard and I never got along,” he takes a shuddering breath, “It was fun bickering with you when it didn’t hurt.”
He takes another deep breath, swallows, pauses. Waits till the burn behind his eyes ends and he’s no longer in danger of bursting into tears.
“You might’ve noticed that I’m not alone,” James tenses further, “and you might recognize this guy,” Tony puts a comforting hand on the small of James’s back, “It’s a long story, and I imagine you’ll want to hear all of it but we’ll explain later. I’m not sure if you guys would care or not, I can imagine that Howard won’t be amused but I wanted to say that James and I are together. He’s my partner, my lover, my significant other, my boyfriend , whatever term floats your boat. Just, we care about each other a lot. He makes me happy, not a lot of people make me happy anymore. He makes me feel warm and sheltered and safe and he doesn’t try to protect me or anything, there’s no need, but he’s there for me when I need him to be and we love each other. I’m happy , that’s all I wanted to say. I’ve had a lot of conflicting emotions about you guys over the years but I can say this without it being a lie, regardless of how I might feel about that too, either way. I love you, both of you and I hope you’ve got peace and closure and perhaps that you can forgive me for my negligence.”
Tony remains silent after that. His own breathing loud in his ears, James’s heart is beating loudly in his chest and he can hear it from where’s he’s pressed to James’s side.
James swallows and pulls Tony tightly against his side. His hands are trembling a little bit, Tony doesn’t say anything, just waits and lets him have this moment to compose himself.
Then he speaks, soft as a whisper.
“Howard, Maria, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. It sounds weak but I didn’t mean to kill you, I never wanted to kill you or anyone else I killed,” he pauses, shakes his head, Tony wants to squeeze his hand or provide some other form of comfort but he knows James needs to collect himself right now and might not appreciate it.
“I survived my fall from the train, lost an arm, got captured by Hydra ,” he growls the name, “They turned me into their mindless little murder machine and when I’d try to escape they’d fry my brain till I complied again. I think whoever sent me on that mission for the super-soldier serum must have been particularly sadistic. They made me kill you guys with my own face, body, with my own arms and I didn’t know who you were as I did it. I—” his voice breaks, he stops.
He takes a deep, shaking breath. Tony reaches around his back for his metal hand, James flinches at first but then the cold metal wraps around Tony’s fingers and James’s body relaxes.
“I didn’t know who I was, for a long time after I escaped. I was just wandering around, constantly on the run, the soldier in my head telling me to keep running and to keep going and to never stop. Steve’s alive, we found him, but I didn’t want to meet him because I knew he wouldn’t know me anymore. He’s always been stubborn and he doesn’t like your son and I’ve changed a lot.” He shakes his head, looks at his feet for a moment, hair obscuring his face. Then he lifts his head to face the tombstone and there’s a slight smile hanging forming on his lips.
“I love Tony, so much. I never thought I would, never thought I’d find someone to love again after Joseph, never thought I’d live long enough to find another man who might want to be with me even in different times. I’d resigned myself to a life alone, constantly on the run from everything and anyone who used to know me. Your son gave me a home , after everything and I will never feel luckier than I am because I’m loved by him.”
Tony’s warm all over. The tingling kind that comes with sitting next to a fireplace snuggled in your lover's arms, where everything is good in the world.
“I’m sorry, again, for what I did. I am always remembering you, trying to remember you, repenting to myself and trying to gain my own forgiveness for the horrifying things I’ve done. Take my words for what they are,” he intertwines his metal fingers with Tony’s, “I’m not trying to defend myself and. Well, it’s a bit presumptuous of me to say this but I hope you’re proud of Tony. You should be.”
They stay in the cemetery for a while longer. Holding each other close in front of the same marble stone that doesn’t feel as oppressive anymore. There’s a weight lifted off both their shoulders.
When they leave it is without remorse, hand in hand with a bright future ahead of them and the will to remember the past.
The evening is cold, but their bodies are warm and as they find their way back home together remembrance is clear in their minds.