The Death of a Survivor
"Bucky…" The voice wavered, he was scared.
For a moment dark eyes filled with recognition, but then the moment was over. The attacker lowered his gun and put it in it's holster.
"Maria?" Cried the older man inside the wrecked car. No one answered. He sobbed harder.
Already he could se dark fingermarks blooming around her delicate thoat.
A metal hand pulled him by the hair and he gasped in pain.
"Bucky, please… please… don't…" The older man pleaded, his cheeks stained with tears and blood.
The assassin didn't answer; instead, he shoved the man's face into the steering wheel forcefully. Once, twice and again and again and again.
There was screaming that echoed down the desolate road. And then there was silence.
The Death of a Survivor
There was nothing wrong with Howard's brain. Well… there were quite a few things, but none that would render him unable to talk or comprehend what was being said to him. He just didn't.
In the month after Maria's death, Tony's resentment towards his father crossed every stage possible. He shouted at the man, insulted him and his failures as a father and husband, he told him he would rather have had Maria live instead of him- sometimes Tony even pleaded.
He didn't want much, it was less than he'd ever wanted from his father, he just wanted the man to say something, just look at him with a fraction of something- anything at all. But Howard said nothing. He would look at whatever spot his eyes had last landed on and stare at it until he fell asleep.
Tony cried by his bedside, his father's black and blue face swollen and painful to even look at, and begged.
"Say something please."
But nothing ever came out of the older man's mouth, he just stared and breathed. A living corpse, Tony would say to describe his father. His anger waned. Howard didn't get better.
Years passed and the man's life was reduced to a medium sized room with a great window and a view of the ocean.
"The man can't even crap on his own, at least he'll have something pretty to look at all day." Tony would say to anyone who'd ask about his father.
Some days he'd sit by the man's wheelchair, sometimes he'd talk, others he'd share in the silence. And other times he wouldn't see his father for weeks, but Tony always returned to his side, he had nobody else left.
The Death of a Survivor
Tony woke up, last night had been a blast of a party, as per usual, he'd returned home with a beautiful woman by his side and spent the night re-exploring every inch of his bed until there was nothing left untouched. There was a faraway crash and the genius finally realized what had startled him out of sleep.
He bolted out of the sheets, his bedmate undisturbed, and ran to the hall where his father's room was. The caretaker of the old man left roughly at nine and arrived at eight, Howard never presenting much of a real problem as still as he was day in and day out. At six am there was no one to look out for him but Tony.
When he opened the door, his father was on the floor, the white sheets tangled around his thin legs, a frightened look on his face.
"Howard?" Tony knelt on the floor, but couldn't catch the man's skittering eyes. "Dad?"
An awful rasp left the old man's throat and Tony hurried to get the glass of water on the nightstand. He awkwardly lifted his fathers middle until his back was resting on Tony's chest.
"Here, drink this, slowly." Said the youngest Stark as he realized his voice was wavering.
Little water actually went down Howard's throat, but it was enough that his voice didn't sound like nails scraping on a chalkboard.
"Tony… Tony where's Maria?" His voice was small and uneven with disuse.
A huge lump of uneasiness filled Tony's chest and he couldn't say a thing.
"Ma-Maria…" His father looked frightened as hell and Tony didn't know what to do about it. It was so un-Howard-like, it was greatly out of his realm of expertise. And when was the last time he had crossed words with his father? How many years had it been?
Then everything was quiet, his father's eyes lost but undoubtedly there. Tony's chest rocked with his father's shaking shoulders. He was crying.
"Dad?" Tony asked just as lost as the man.
Howard kept crying silently, water falling from his eyes without signs of stopping.
Tony cried just as silent.
The Death of a Survivor
Nobody could really tell why it'd happened or how Howard, after literal years of being absent of mind, had finally snapped into himself again.
For the next days, the only thing the old man did was ignore everyone and cry himself to sleep. And Tony could tell he was ignoring everyone, he had lifelong experience that allowed him to tell the difference between it and the vacantness that had plagued his father these last decades.
And when Howard was crying he cried. He cried silently and ugly and breath taking. It got to the point that Tony began regretting wishing that his father would come back, it was heartbreaking.
Tony was nothing short of complaining to Rhody that it was like they'd unpaused right where they'd left off with how much the man ignored him, until he decided to sit by his bed for a change. He realized then for as much as Howard wasn't talking, he was by no means ignoring him.
As soon as his hand had been close enough to his father's reach, Howard had taken hold of it. It'd startled Tony out of his phone and into the weary teary eyes of the old man. He said nothing still, but he was there and he was looking at Tony.
Phone forgotten, Tony squeezed his father frail fingers softly.
In the days to come the crying waned, but Howard was just as unvocal. Tony was there though, and there was a sense of appreciation in his chest when his father held his hand.
The Death of a Survivor
"Maria…" was the first thing his father said when he began talking again. "She didn't make it?" He looked at Tony and while he didn't think he'd gained that much perspective as he'd grown older, he thought he could see his father's deep rooted pain just by looking at his eyes.
The genius couldn't answer that question when faced with a man who felt like his wife just died a few days ago, so he lowered his head instead. It's enough of a confirmation for Howard.
The Death of a Survivor
That same year Anthony Stark is taken by a Terrorist group and no one knows if he even made it.
When he comes back, his father's leg therapy has improved exponentially and the man is basically running Stark Industries to the ground beside Pepper in an effort to find him.
As Howard takes his first look at him he stumbles out of his wheelchair on weak legs until he's got Tony crushed against his chest in a hug that should feel a huge deal more week than it is.
"Don't ever do that to me again boy, do you hear? Never."
Tony sighs out in tired relief, and it's his turn to cry as his father holds him. It seems tragedy was the only thing their relationship needed to become somewhat decent.
The next day, Stark Industries decrees they will no longer manufacture weapons. The weeks that follow are hell on everyone, but they survive- though Tony does get yelled at for making an inexperienced Miss Potts change a piece of delicate machinery that is keeping him alive when he had an old man with a shit ton of expertise right there on the floor above him.
Tony is rather fond of remembering he does have an old man whole and conscious, that doesn't stare into oblivion all day long. It's stupidly heartwarming. He might also be adding Miss Potts to his short list of important people now. It's nice.
Then the whole Obadia thing happens, It's a mess. But in the end, there's Pepper and Rhodes and Howard.
Dad.
It's nice.
Abril: I have a deep love for Howard and I'm eager to share it with those willing to listen :D I hope you enjoyed it, is you did, there's a second piece coming up as soon as I figure out how to end it. Stay tuned.