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Tony Stark stood at the grave of Edwin Jarvis with Obadiah’s hand on his shoulder, providing what little comfort he could. Edwin Jarvis was now laid to rest, next to his beloved Ana, who had passed on a few years before.
Few people had attended the funeral. Peggy Carter had been one of them. Howard Stark had not. Howard was, in fact, conspicuously absent from the funeral of the man who had served him faithfully for years.
“He should be here,” Tony murmured, leaning back into Obadiah.
“He should,” Obadiah agreed. “He’s just so busy with SHIELD right now.” His words fall flat, sounding like nothing more than the pitiful excuse it was.
“SHIELD,” Tony said unhappily. “Or Stark Industries. Or something else. Why doesn’t he ever have time for us?”
Why doesn’t he ever have time for me? Tony means but doesn’t say. Obadiah catches it anyway.
“From what little I’ve seen, I wouldn’t think you’d want his attention,” Obadiah said. He feels Tony tense and knows immediately that he’s right. That, despite the good man Howard Stark portrayed to the world, at home he was very different.
“Jarvis protected me,” Tony said. “When he could.”
“And when he couldn’t?”
“He’d patch me up. It’s not like he could go to anyone. Howard has too much money, too much pull, too many friends in high places.”
“It’s not right,” Obadiah said.
“It’s not,” Tony agreed.
“I won’t be able to do much, but I’ll try to protect you in Edwin’s stead.”
Tony finally turned around and hugged him tightly, crying into his suit, “Thank you.”
Obadiah had said he wouldn’t be able to do much, but to Tony’s surprise, he managed to do more than even Jarvis had. As part of Stark Industries, Obadiah managed to keep Howard even busier than usual, and whenever Tony and Howard were in the same place, Obadiah would maneuver himself between them.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Even so, Tony resented his father for always being busy. For never paying attention. For never praising his achievements. For not being there. For not being Obadiah Stane.
Obadiah always made time for him, even when he himself was busy. Obadiah always praised him for his achievements. Obadiah always encouraged him to do better when he failed. Obadiah was every bit the loving father that Howard Stark was not.
“Sometimes I wish you were my father instead,” Tony said once, curled up on a couch in Obadiah’s office.
“I would be proud to call you my son, Tony,” Obadiah had replied. Curling up on Obadiah’s couch while he worked became commonplace.
“I have a private meeting in a few minutes with an old friend.”
“Oh, uh, I can leave, if you want?” Tony said.
“You can stay. He won’t mind. Would you like to meet him? Or put on your headphones?”
“I’d, I’d like to meet him, if you’re sure he won’t mind.” Tony hadn’t met many of Obadiah’s friends, and he was sure Obadiah had missed the curious looks on Tony’s face anytime Tony had been politely asked to leave the room for a bit.
“I’m sure.”
The friend arrived in short order, greeting Obadiah with a wide grin and a hug.
“Obadiah, good to see you again.”
“You as well, Alex.”
“And who is this?” Alex said, looking at Tony, as if he didn’t know.
“This is my, well, Howard’s son, Tony,” Obadiah said, putting an arm around Tony’s shoulders.
Tony’s mind was so focused on the fact that Obadiah had almost called Tony his son that he almost missed what Obadiah said next.
“Tony, this is Alexander Pierce, the current Head of Hydra.”
“H-hydra? I thought Captain America destroyed Hydra. I mean, that’s what Howard always says.”
“We’re not as gone as the world might thing,” Alex said, staring at Obadiah. “And we’ve changed quite a bit from the time of the Red Skull’s insanity.”
“Changed how?” Tony asked. Alex turned his gaze from Obadiah onto Tony and smiled widely.
“Why don’t we sit down, Tony,” he said, gesturing to the couch. “And I’ll tell you a story.”
Tony looked hesitantly between Alex and the couch. Obadiah squeezed his shoulders.
“It’ll be alright, son. I promise.”
“Okay,” Tony said, going over to the couch. “Let’s hear this story.”
“You know, when you introduced me as the Head of Hydra, I thought for a moment you had lost your mind,” Alex said later, when he and Obadiah were in a more private setting.
“I told you I had a surprise for you,” Obadiah said, smiling into his wineglass.
“I didn’t expect it to be Howard Stark’s son willing to work with Hydra.”
“Tony has a lot of resentment for his father. Resentment which I’ve been stirring up and making grow as much as possible. You noticed every time he mentioned Howard, he called him by his first name? He already avoided calling the man Dad. Now he considers me his father.”
“Does he?”
“He said months ago that he wishes I were his father instead of Howard. And several times since then, he’s almost called me Dad, before correcting himself.”
“Howard Stark’s son hates him so much, he considers another man his father and joined the very organization that Howard fought against in the war,” Alex said laughing. “If I hadn’t heard the boy say, ‘Hail Hydra.’ myself I would have thought it a joke. How did you do it?”
“By being the comforting and loving presence a needy and attention-desperate child needed. It wasn’t easy at first, since that idiot Jarvis was the first one he’d go to after Howard did something stupid.”
“Is that why you wanted the man killed so badly? I still don’t see why we had to call the soldier out for that.”
“Edwin Jarvis worked with Peggy Carter, and managed to keep up with her. I didn’t want to take any chances. Not when I had finally wormed my way into the boy’s life. Not when Jarvis was so suspicious of me and my motives. No, I needed Jarvis out of the picture, so I could become the one the boy would go to instead and so he wouldn’t tell anyone of his suspicions.”
“And so you could bring the boy to us,” Alex said. “Bravo, Obadiah. Bravo.” He held out his glass of wine. “To the bright future of Hydra.”
“To Hydra,” Obadiah said, clinking his own glass against the other.