Tony Stark sat alone in a dark room, drinking what was left of his favorite scotch. It had been months since Steve Rogers had broken into the Raft and 'rescued' Barton, Maximoff, Wilson, and Lang.
In reality, Tony had 'accidentally' sent orders to the compound in Ross's name, asking for security to be reduced because they were "needed elsewhere." He had made sure that when (not if) Steve broke in to free them, that he would have an easy time with security. Tony knew the Avengers didn't need to be contained the way they were. They were just doing what they thought was right; they were following their leader.
Tony sighed, then poured himself the final few drops of scotch. He looked out the giant window in front of him, where the sun was just starting to set over the Avengers compound. The failing light emphasized the heavy wrinkles and lines on his face, aging the genius by about fifteen years.
Behind Tony, a figure entered the room quietly, walking gently up behind him.
"Tony, Rhodey called today, he wanted to know how things were going with the new design for his legs?"
Pepper Potts, who was one of the few people capable of reading Tony and his state of mind, grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it up next to him.
"I would get to designing something, or else he'll march himself up here and get your ass moving himself."
Not getting even a half smile from her fiance, Pepper knew he wasn't in a good place.
"Tony-"
"I got a call from Steve today."
Pepper raised her eyebrows. "That's, that's... good? What did he, what did he want?"
Tony blinked a few times, then swallowed what was left in his glass. "My help."
Pepper's expression remained that of shock, and she was reading Tony's face for any sign of emotion, whether anger or happiness. The subject of Steve was one Pepper tried to avoid, as it brought up conflicting emotions. Part of Tony still hated the man with a never ending fury, while the other half missed Steve and the rest of the Avengers so much it physically hurt him. The Avengers were the closest thing to a family that Tony had had in a long time.
Pepper waited for a few more moments, trying to see if she would get any more information out of him, but Tony just continued staring out the window.
"Help with what?"
Tony sighed, raised his glass to take a sip, realized it was empty, and lowered it again.
"He said he had some information on some illegal training program, something I needed to check out. He wants to meet, if I'll agree to it."
"Are you, are you going to go?"
Tony said nothing, but continued to stare out the window in front of them. The sun had officially set, and the stars were beginning to come out, casting the room in a dreary darkness.
A year earlier, thousands of miles away in a small, frigid graveyard, two figures moved quickly and silently past the headstones, making their way towards the back of the lot. The moon was full, and a fresh coat of snow lay on the ground, so they cast shadows as they moved.
Every inch of their skin was wrapped up in dark clothing, except for their eyes, which were barely visible behind the thick scarves wrapped about their faces. They each carried a large pack on their back, with a shovel strapped to the side.
Once they reached the back corner of the lot, they slowed their pace and began spreading out, covering the area, reading the grave markers as they went. After a few minutes of searching, one of the figures whistled, and then motioned for the other to come over.
The other walked over quickly, read the marker, then nodded in agreement. Simultaneously, the two figures pulled the shovels from their pack and began to dig.
In the faint light of the full moon, the words on the marker could barely be made out, reading
PIETRO MAXIMOFF
BELOVED BROTHER AND SON