Chapter 4: If You Want Blood (You Got It)
When they were an hour from landing in London, Tony handed Steve his tablet with a picture displayed on it. The woman in it was wearing dark sunglasses, her long black hair heavily streaked with grey. Her lips were curved up in a slight smirk as she got into a grey car, calloused hands holding the door open.
"Adri Kadakia, birth name unknown. There are rumours may be from Goa, but there isn't much on her, even in Hydra's files." Tony downed his last drink. "She pulled the trigger, whatever the damn trigger was, since I still don't know how she did it. She was labelled as wetworks, which is –"
"I know." Steve's jaw clenched.
Steve's mask of indifference had fallen now, and to Tony's relief, it seemed to be gone for good. Tony needed the good Captain – he could see the varying paths this mission could have taken without Steve at his side. Tony didn't fair well in most of them.
"She seems like someone hard to track – why didn't you go after her first?" Steve was studying the intel, his eyes scanning the words and committing them to memory like he had the various other pieces of information Tony brought before him.
Tony had access to everything on Project Rebirth now; he hadn't done more than give it all a cursory glance, but one the scientist's files did mention that Steve's brain had remained largely unaffected. The Captain had a good head on his shoulders, serum or no serum.
In other words, Tony had fucked up majorly when he'd insulted Steve on the first day they met. But now was not the time to rehash old mistakes. At least, not Tony's old mistakes.
"I was waiting for some solid info. She's been laying low in a few places, always on the move. To be honest, I'm not one hundred percent sure she's even here right now, but I found an account under Rita Patel that might be Kadakia's. JARVIS got something from it. As of five hours ago, 'Rita' withdrew from that account at a bank near Brixton, and there's an apartment there under that same name."
Tony indicated the tablet, and Steve slid his fingers across the screen, flipping to a map that had the location of Kadakia's loft apartment marked in red. "Part of the reason why I'm pretty sure she's here, though, is because of the RHS Hampton Court Show. She has a thing for flowers."
Steve cocked his head. "What, she leave them on her victims' bodies?"
"Nothing so cliché – a couple of her old haunts had gardens that she worked in. One of her aliases had a botany degree – I'm thinking the degree wasn't fake."
Steve's fingers slid to another old photo of Kadakia, the young, (possibly) Indian woman surrounded by hydrangeas, her smile gentle and her eyes dark. He put down the tablet and looked up at Tony. "We're going to need to go in armed and ready. She's not Burlington, she's been active all this time, on Hydra's payroll."
"Hey, you and me, we've survived sparring matches with Natasha – we can handle this old lady. I think it's time I show you my prep room."
Tony stood up and walked over to the small back area of the plane, moving a panel from the wall with a quick flurry of finger presses against a concealed keypad. A ladder was revealed and Tony gestured towards to Steve to take the lead.
Steve whistled when he got the bottom and saw what Tony had been hiding.
"It's where I hang out for long flights, and where I hide from Captain America's snoring."
The Captain in question pointed at Tony. "I don't snore. And I figured you had some crazy luxurious bedroom hidden, which means that since you don't, you haven't been sleeping every time you disappeared."
"Eh, I sleep like you charge a phone's batteries – wait till it's practically dead, then plug it in for a day. Works for me."
Steve seemed like he wanted to say something to that, but settled on just sighing and moving on to exploring. The entire lower half of the plane was a makeshift lab and arsenal. Tony brought two of his suits, one of them being the stealth suit, the other being the Mark VII. And for Steve, he'd brought a few handguns and heavy rifles, uncertain of what the Captain would prefer.
Steve, interestingly enough, was gravitating towards the knife display. When Tony gave him a questioning look, he explained, "Like you said – been training with Natasha. She's, uh, taught me a lot about knife fighting."
"Probably in incredibly painful ways," Tony commented with a grimace. "Take your pick. The more concealable, the better."
"What about you?" Steve nodded towards the Mark VII. "Not exactly subtle."
Tony held up his wrists, the silver bands on them glinting. "The suit's going to be stashed nearby, and it'll come when I need it. Until then, you better cover my ass, Rogers."
Steve grinned. "Considering how expensive it is, it's probably in my best interest to do so."
Tony gave a smug smirk in return. "I'm worth every damn penny, Captain, and I can give you written references that prove it."
"I'm pretty sure there's a lot of online videos to confirm it too, but I'll just go with taking your word for it," Steve said, his own smile edging into smug territory.
Tony blinked in surprise. Steve knew about online videos? Steve knew about online sex tapes? Tony had never considered the fact that Steve might Google him with the safe search feature turned off. Well, it was a good thing that Tony had broken his own ability to be ashamed at a very young age – and that he had wiped some of his worst caught-on-camera offences clean off the web.
Steve picked two long knives and a couple of small semi-automatic pistols, the latter of which he proceeded to take apart in order to inspect and clean. Tony did some prep work on his armour. They worked in companionable silence.
The silence gave Tony time to reflect upon what he was about to do. Two men were in jail, their lives destroyed. Tony didn't know if he was satisfied with that. There were ways to get to them, even now that they were in custody, but a gut-wrenching twist of his insides told him his chances with Dweck and Burlington had passed.
It would have to do. It had to be enough.
"You weren't close to Howard at all, were you?"
The question came so out of the blue that Tony actually dropped the gauntlet he had been tinkering with.
Steve's eyes were trained on Tony, unmoving and unblinking. "Howard wasn't a good father."
Interesting how Steve said it so matter-of-factly. While some people knew that Tony Stark had daddy issues, very few understood how deeply rooted these issues were.
"Howard . . ." Tony stopped, and then decided that Steve, considering his past with Howard and his present with Tony, had earned the right to hear the truth.
"Howard never hit me, never starved me. He also never hugged me, not that I can remember, or told me he loved me." Tony went back to tinkering with his gauntlet. "He liked to teach me, to tell me stories about the war, about you, but he didn't like to talk about me outside of our science hang-outs or World War II reminiscing. The first time I drew up a schematic that he didn't understand, I was ten years old. I don't know if he resented me or if he was confused by me, if he didn't get how I could be so much like him but not. Who the hell knows? Maybe he was a fuck-up like me, and didn't know how to deal with a smaller, messier version of himself."
Steve acknowledged this with a faint smile, though now it was tinged with sadness. "What about your mother, Maria?"
"Mom took no shit from anybody, especially Stark men." Tony flashed a movie star grin. "She always knew when I was lying, or when something was about to blow up. She fought to keep me home when my dad decided to ship me off to boarding school, and when she lost that fight, she wrote to me every week. Once I used a necklace of hers to add a silver component to – doesn't matter, but the point was that it was a family heirloom, and she didn't even tell me what it meant to her until after I'd destroyed it. She said it was just a thing, and what I was creating was worth sacrificing a few things. I like to believe she was talking about more than the necklace, but I don't know."
Tony hadn't realized how much he'd been rambling until he stopped. He glanced back up Steve and saw the other man leaning against the gun rack, completely focused on Tony to the exclusion of all else. Not that there was much else to stare at.
Tony cleared his throat, putting the gauntlet away and spreading his hands out on the tabletop. "I think that's enough therapy for today, Cap. Let's get this show on the road."
"Right." Steve pushed himself off the wall. "I'll get suited up. I brought my own stealth gear, though the shield's gonna be a tough thing to hide."
"I can attach it to the armour," Tony said, looking back towards the Mark VII. "Won't need too much time to adjust for the added weight and shape. JARVIS, run a few simulations for me."
"Right away, sir."
After they put the finishing touches on their gear, Steve reached over to Tony. His hand rested on Tony's shoulder, squeezing firmly.
"I'm glad to be doing this for Howard, for his wife, but you and me, that's the here and now. You drive me up the wall, you confuse me a heck of a lot, but you're a good man, separate and different from Howard. I look forward to figuring you out, Tony Stark." Steve's hand squeezed once and then let go.
Tony had no idea what to say to any of that.
He cleared his throat for the second time in as many minutes and tried for one of his smirks. It was probably more a weak sort of smile.
The plane had been circling the landing strip for a while, according to JARVIS. Before he and Steve made their way to their seats, Tony's hand shot out of its own accord, grabbing Steve's forearm.
Steve waited patiently as Tony struggled to find his words.
"When this is over, we're going hunting, you and me. I've got Bruce Banner back at my tower, and more science-y type knowledge than you can shake a stupid magic glowing stick at. We'll find Barnes, and we'll figure out a way to help him."
The gratitude that filled Steve's face was just a little too much for Tony. He let go of Steve's arm and practically ran back to his seat.
They landed a few minutes later, and then it was all strategizing and stakeouts until the next night, when everything went to hell.
"Fuck me, she's gone." Tony threw his beer against the wall outside of Kadakia's loft. "I was wrong. Damn it, she's probably halfway to China or Zimbabwe, or anywhere but here."
Steve handed Tony his own empty beer bottle. Tony smashed that too.
The beers had come after JARVIS informed him that Rita Patel had cleaned out her account from a bank in Liverpool, before the name 'Rita Patel' abruptly disappeared into nonexistence.
"You weren't wrong, Tony, she was here." Steve took a sip from a new bottle of beer, staring up at the windows of the empty apartment. "She just managed to slip away. We'll find her. You, me, and JARVIS – there's no way she can evade us forever."
"Fucking damn it, I had her."
"And we will find her." Steve held his bottle out of reach when Tony tried to swipe it. "Let's go back to the jet, catch some shut-eye. We've been out here for" – Steve checked his wristwatch – "nearly nine hours. I think we deserve the break."
"Especially since it was all for nothing."
Steve didn't reply, just gave Tony a light shove towards their rental car, parked a block or so over, and then bent to pick up their remaining beer.
Steve drove, because while Tony wasn't drunk, he was so angry at the world he might as well have been. His lack of subtlety had cost him his parents' murderer. But they had just missed her by three hours. She was probably still in the country, though on her way out, and Tony had no idea what means of transport she'd take or if – wait. Wait, wait.
"Wait what?" Steve glanced over at him, looking worried.
Tony hadn't realized that he'd spoken aloud. "Steve, go to the palace."
"The what?"
"Hampton Court Palace." Tony was rubbing his wristbands, a flash flood of adrenaline giving him the shakes. "She might be there. She might go to see the damn flowers before she leaves."
Steve pressed down on the accelerator and broke the speed limit.
They pulled into palace grounds in what seemed like only five minutes. Tony knew there had to be some night guards or someone around. Or there should be. It was black outside, a few lights on the perimeter, but almost nothing further up the drive towards the palace itself.
Steve moved so quietly it was a little disconcerting. Tony knew he wasn't quite so stealthy. A little ways in, they found their first casualty.
One of the night guards, a small but sturdy woman, was crumpled behind a bush, her neck broken. Steve took her pulse regardless, and then reached over to close her unseeing eyes.
"She's warm," was all he said when he straightened up to look at Tony.
Tony stared back, pressing on his wristbands. The armour was in the car. It would take less than ten seconds to arrive.
But it was too late.
"Tony!" Steve had pushed him down, using his body as a shield at the same time that a series of silenced bullets sprayed the ground where Tony had just been standing.
The gun that fired at them was silenced, the shots coming out like small, sharp puffs of condensed air, high pitched and accurate. Steve grabbed Tony by the back of his shirt, dragged him into the nearest building.
Whereupon they stumbled over a tripwire.
The wire pulled the pin, the Mark VII burst in through a window, and Tony shouted, "Guard!"
The armour formed itself and found the grenade, throwing itself toward it. The explosion rattled Tony's bones, rendered him deaf for a few precious seconds, but he was alive. Steve was crouched low, sliding across the debris to grab his shield from the Mark VII's back.
The armour was mostly intact, but Tony wasn't going to use it. Instead, he pressed a different sequence into his wristbands. The Mark VII shot out of the remains of brick and mortar, hovering over them, surveying the land.
The hum of the repulsors was the only sound for a time.
Tony didn't move, didn't breathe, just waited.
A shot was fired. Tony ducked, Steve brought up his shield, but the shot wasn't aimed at them.
The suit clattered to the ground in front of them, powerless. Useless. A device was attached to the arc reactor, had shut it down completely.
Tony stared at it, and then, even as Steve said "No, don't," Tony stood up, knowing that he was clearly visible to their adversary.
"Neat trick," he said, not bothering to shout. "And a fairly new trick too."
"They had been working on it for some time, my former employers."
Her voice had pleasant lilt to it, a combination of accents and a husky, weathered charm. He couldn't tell from where it was coming from, only that it wasn't too close by – but close enough. "A shame they didn't get to use it on me – I assume that was the original intention. To kill me, outside of the suit."
"Yes. But you are flesh and blood once more, little Stark. If I desired your death, more conventional means will serve."
Steve stood then, his shield held up to his chest. "Won't be as easy as you think." His eyes scanned everything around them. There were a couple of smaller buildings surrounding them. She could be in or on any of them. Steve's pistols were fairly useless without a target to aim them at.
A second shot.
Steve released a smoke grenade at the same time he dropped to the ground and swept Tony's feet out from under him. It was faster than Tony hitting the floor himself, and in that time, his stealth suit, which had been quietly hovering for the past thirty seconds, formed around him. He waited for the smoke to dissipate. Steve had rolled a few feet away, hiding behind a crumbling brick wall.
"Interesting. You two work well together."
"We Avengers do that," Steve said conversationally. "Should be making you nervous right about now."
The smoke had dissipated enough for Tony to move through it without giving away his location. Tony rose up into the air, keeping one eye on Steve while the rest of his sensors sought the woman.
And he found her. Kadakia must have been in her sixties at least, but she was spry as ever. She was resting comfortably in a tree, right next to a building directly across from Steve's location. Her hair hung in a loose bun on the left side of her head, and she wore black camouflage gear that had many pockets, likely concealing a plethora of weapons.
As Tony calculated his best angle of approach, she reached into one of those pockets – another grenade. She threw it, but Tony had seen Steve switch cover already. The explosion sent pieces of brick flying everywhere, but Steve just bunkered down next to another partially destroyed wall. The Captain stayed low, stayed silent, and waited.
"JARVIS, any readings on that device that shut down the reactor?"
"None, but there are two electronic signatures attached to other devices of unknown purpose."
JARVIS brought scans up – basic schematics, no detail, and so he couldn't discern what they could do. But as of yet, Kadakia hadn't detected him. He could end this without her ever seeing him. Fast, like his father died.
Or, seventeen minutes, drowning in blood.
Tony was behind her. He had been behind her for a few seconds now.
He was going to kill her.
He reached an arm out, an arm he could see only through his sensors. He didn't want to shoot. He didn't want fire his repulsors. He wanted to get his hands on her.
"Do you know how I killed your parents, little Stark?"
Tony froze.
"The car. There was nothing in car, correct?"
"No, Tony. You know it's all just mind games," Steve said, breaking his cover.
She didn't bother firing at Steve, just turned around to face exactly where Tony was hovering.
"Shit."
That was all Tony got to say before she was jamming Unknown Device A into his outstretched arm. And then he was on fire – not literally, but the temperature inside his armour was shooting up extremely fast and increasing exponentially by the second.
"JARVIS!"
"She's attempting to overload the suit – our defenses are absorbing the charge, but it appears the heat containment for the repulsors and stealth engine –"
"Yeah, got it!" Sweat was running into his eyes, breathing was becoming difficult. "Stealth and filters off!" Tony's helmet slid off and he found himself eye-to-eye with Adri Kadakia.
But not for long. She jabbed at him again, quicker than a blink, with a blackened knife he saw only after it had sliced into his cheek. He had managed to turn away and avoid getting blinded. She brought up Unknown Device B and Tony was not eager to find out what it would do.
He powered himself away from her, and then swung back around, weaving through the branches. Kadakia kicked out with her foot as he flew towards her, and Tony grabbed it, intending to knock her out against the trunk of the tree – instead, he ended up with her legs wrapped around his torso and one of his arms. She had her knife pressed against his jugular, her other hand pinning his other arm behind his back.
"I want to tell you how I did it," she said directly into his ear. Her words echoed in the stillness of the palace grounds. "It was not my best job. Our team leader was extremely efficient, ruthless, but not very good at improvising. Our inside man was smart, but he failed to get me access to the car – your father so closely guarded his metal toys."
Tony grit his teeth, attempting to get his hands free, but the knife bit into his neck deeply. A stream of blood dribbled down, the pain a brief burst of sensation that stood out against his sudden numbness. She didn't tell him not to move. She didn't have to. And Tony didn't use his considerable brain mass to come up with a plan, because he was an idiot.
Because he had to know.
"Instead, our inside man fed me some valuable information – about your father's preferred drinks. His usual route home. His once-a-month outings with your mother. She would meet him at the office, he would leave early, and they would have dinner."
His mother usually wore light, understated jewellery, and then dressed with bold colours for those dinners. Tony had picture albums where half the photos were of Maria and Howard Stark out for some fine dining – he could tell when they'd been fighting, because she would smile without showing her teeth, her eyes glancing off to the side.
"Take another step, Captain. He is bleeding already, it would take very little to finish him."
Tony hadn't even noticed that Steve was on the approach. He couldn't see him – his eyes were extremely crappy at night – but he caught a glint of the shield. Steve stopped moving.
Kadakia kept narrating.
"The roads were so very icy, you see. Icier after I rerouted the salt trucks. Maria met your father, just as he finished his after-work glass of scotch. It took maybe ten or so minutes for the toxin to work – the dosage was well-timed, they reached my ice patch as your father died, the car spinning, but your mother, she almost managed to get the car under control – and so I shot her through the lung. Very clean, bullet went right through. It angered me to have to do it – it would have been such a perfectly untraceable accident. Well, I suppose it still was, in a way."
Poisoned. Shot. Autopsy report. Faked. Bullet probably lost in the wreckage, inconsequential metal slag.
"I had to make sure – left my perch. There wasn't much left of your father. But your mother was alive."
Hot tears and cold sweat mingled on Tony's face. He growled out words that held no meaning, let his rage flare up. He made one sharp move and the knife sliced again, more blood spilling over Kadakia's hand.
"She was barely breathing, every inhale wet, cracked – she hadn't seen me. Your mother was not the main target. Eliminate if necessary, our orders were. I stood there. I considered calling the ambulance. She was beautiful, your mother, even broken. Maria Stark gave much hope and charity to the world."
"Stop," Steve demanded from his place somewhere in the darkness. "Why are you doing this?"
"But my mission was complete. I left Maria's life in fate's hands. Fate had no sympathy for a kind woman that day."
Tony closed his eyes tightly. An icy stretch of road was all he could see. "Fate is coming back for you tonight."
He leaned into the knife and turned on his stealth engine. Instantly, the suit began to overheat again – Kadakia hissed as it burned her, and for the briefest of instants, the knife pulled away. Tony fired his repulsors, launching himself in Steve's general direction. Steve ripped Kadakia off as Tony blasted past, and he threw her to the ground, pinning her there as Tony turned everything off, tumbling head over heels into the well-manicured lawn.
"Tony?" Steve called.
"I'm alive." He wouldn't say that he was fine – that was too big of a lie even for him, and Steve wouldn't have believed it anyway.
"The police are close by. I called them."
"Figured the explosions would have brought them here sooner."
"They got a couple of calls – but someone phoned this morning, gave them a tip that a bunch of kids were planning to prank the police to show up at Hampton. I had to use my old S.H.I.E.L.D. codes to get them to believe me."
Tony stumbled over to Steve's side and stared down at Kadakia. She looked back at him, perfectly serene.
"Why did you let me find you here?" It had been her game from the moment Rita Patel appeared on Tony's radar.
"Why are you letting her into your head?" Steve asked, but he spoke quietly and let Kadakia have enough breathing room to answer Tony's question.
"Because, when Project Insight became priority, I would have been rendered obsolete upon its completion. No need for assassins when at the push of a button you could eliminate all threats everywhere. But then the Captain came along. The prized Asset failed for the first time. And I was grateful. You, Captain, you saved me."
Steve looked faintly ill for a moment, but after a blink, his hard, cold mask fell into place. "I saved innocent lives that day, and lost a whole lot of good people doing it. It wasn't so that you could keep killing. And you won't be killing anymore."
"Believe what you must, Captain, but save me you did. In repayment, I aimed to maim, not kill, mostly to slow you down so that I could speak with Stark. Little Stark, I wanted only to still you so that I could tell you about your parents as a small act of regret for Maria. I did hope that perhaps the medics would reach her in time. It was a shame they did not."
Tony fired a repulsor less than an inch from her head.
It scorched her skin a little, but did no other damage. She hadn't flinched. Neither had Steve, though his eyes shifted from his captive to Tony, flicking over from his face to his bleeding neck.
Tony fell to his knees next to Kadakia. "You're letting us catch you as some fucked-up thank you? And I'm guessing once you feel like you've been in the time-out corner long enough, you'll just leave the triple-max, high-security prison we're shoving you into?"
"Perhaps – I am getting older, this may also be my official retirement."
Whatever she claimed about seeking to maim and not murder, she had almost killed Tony and Steve twice in less than half an hour, and she had killed at least one guard. She nearly gouged his eyes out with a knife just so she could speak with him? He did not believe a word she said, especially about his mother. She was a sociopath. A fucking incomprehensible lunatic.
The wail of sirens could finally be heard. Tony leaned in, his nose almost brushing hers. Her eyes were black, her breathing even.
"Do me a favour? Break out of prison. Because I need an excuse to fire this at your head and not miss."
"Oh, Anthony, you are not like Romanov or Burlington, or myself – you cannot make yourself a killer. But I shall look forward to the chase. Perhaps you will prove me wrong."
And then they were being swarmed by Scotland Yard, the S.I.S., and several other badges that Tony didn't care to put names to. Steve stood up and allowed Kadakia to be taken away.
Tony had blood drying against his throat, paramedics hesitating a few feet from him. Steve came to his side but said nothing. Tony would eventually allow himself to be examined by the medics, though he would refuse a ride to the hospital. He would gather up his Mark VII armour. He would put away the stealth armour and ignore every police officer and agent that wanted to ask questions, abandoning Steve in their midst.
But before any of that happened, Tony simply stood still, unmoving, watching the car holding the last of his vengeance drive away into the night.
Tony was in the jet's lab, running diagnostics on the Mark VII, occasionally scratching at the bandages on his neck.
"You open that cut and I'm turning this jet around and landing it in the nearest hospital."
He looked up to see Steve standing alarmingly close. Tony hadn't even heard him come down the ladder.
"Yeah, well, I'll just hop in my armour and fly the rest of the way home." Tony prodded the Mark VII and the arc reactor lit up to emphasize his point. "It wasn't a power drainage, it was a disruptor of some kind – not quite EMP, more mechanical, it actually got into the casing and –"
Tony abruptly cut himself off, but Steve gestured at him to go on. Tony experienced one of his rare moments of total confusion.
"Okay, no, why aren't you stopping me? This is usually the point where people, people who aren't paid to work for me or who aren't Bruce, stop me."
"It's interesting. It's also important to know how this works so we can prevent it from ever happening again." Steve flicked his gaze down to the armour. "If you still had the reactor in your chest, this could have killed you. Tell me everything about it, without the jargon."
"You're not going to question my state of mind, make me chat about my feelings? What about more memories of Howard? Or . . ." Tony couldn't bring himself to mention his mother out loud.
"Do you want to talk about any of those things?"
"Ah, I'll take 'hell, no' for a thousand, Alex."
"Then no questions. And I understood that reference."
Tony let out a bark of laughter, completely surprising himself. Steve smiled.
And so Tony talked science. Steve was smart, as Tony had long since realized, and he didn't need to have things explained more than twice, and twice only if Tony got a little too overly technical. They passed hours down in the lab, Tony taking apart some sections of the armour as part of his explanations. He showed Steve the physical latches in case Tony ever needed the armour removed in a situation where he and JARVIS were both out of commission. Steve made Tony repeat those instructions several times.
"If I'm down and out, but there's still enough energy for JARVIS to function, I'll give you access codes to remove lockdowns."
Steve's head rose up from where it had been bent close to one of the arms. "Does anyone else have access codes?"
"Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy."
Steve reeled back a bit. "Those are . . . Thank you for trusting me, Tony."
"It'd be kind of stupid not to trust Captain America."
"What about Iron Man?"
"It'd be kind of stupid to even consider trusting Iron Man," Tony said with his biggest, cheesiest grin. "But luckily Iron Man isn't in charge of the Avengers."
"I'm not in charge – it's a group dynamic," Steve immediately protested.
"Cap, we take your orders."
"And I take everyone's input, everyone's advice – you've issued a few orders of your own."
"I provide new information and strategies as they come up," Tony said. "Not quite the same thing. And I wouldn't want to lead this crazy bunch of kids anyway. I don't know if you noticed, but we're all more than a little unhinged. Strange. Downright alien in some cases."
Steve let out his own laugh, but he quickly became serious. "If we ever make this official, then I want it on file – Iron Man and Captain America, team leaders."
Tony fumbled his screwdriver. "What – why?"
"Because there's no one else I'd rather have fight beside me, Shellhead."
"Shellhead? No way is that becoming a thing. I refuse."
"Really, I don't get one nickname I can call you? You can call me anything and everything, including some pretty unflattering –"
"Right, never mind." Tony put the screwdriver down and gave Steve his full attention. "Cap, I don't know. I'm not much for leading the troops into certain death. I'm about cutting the wire, remember? Not much to me outside of the armour."
"Tony, we're talking theory right now. Keep fixing your armour. And don't talk about my friend Iron Man like that – he's a great man. A real hero." Steve hesitated. "I'd like to call him one of my close friends, soon. Once he lets down his shields." He raised an eyebrow. "That was a Star Trek reference, by the way."
Tony had to fight to keep a ridiculous grin off his face. "Fine, God, just stop it, you're giving me cavities. Save the sap for when my ego gets crushed or my ass gets kicked – both of which will happen next time I spar with Natasha." He picked up his screwdriver. "Hey, wanna give me a hand? I think you understand enough to help me put this all back together."
"Definitely – but before we do that, can I try one of those repulsors?"
Tony was pleasantly surprised yet again. "Yeah, we got an hour before we land. You should come by my lab in the tower some time – got plenty of toys you can play with."
While Steve made agreeing noises, Tony had a sudden thought – one that he'd had before, but hadn't found the right opportunity to explain. Tony opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, and shut it, shaking his head. Steve put down the gauntlet he was about to try on. "What is it, Tony?"
"You, uh, got yourself another living situation set up?" Tony asked, staring down at one of the armour's legs. "Heard your place got trashed."
"Yeah, it did. Been running around Europe for the past while – haven't thought about looking for another apartment."
Tony wavered for a second, but then he rolled his eyes skyward at his own pathetic awkwardness, resolving his stupidity by simply asking, "Wanna move in?"
"Move in – with you?"
"Not with me, with me. There's plenty of room in that tower, you could have an entire floor to yourself. In fact, I was designing some plans, you know, after I made a Hulk-proof space for Bruce, and a crash pad for Thor. Just, whatever, it's an idea, feel free to disregard."
"Not whatever." Steve reached over and put a hand on Tony's shoulder, a gesture that was becoming very familiar. "Thank you, Tony, that's really great of you. How much –"
"No rent, no maintenance fees, don't you even try it, Steve. Save that money for funding Boy Scout troops, or buying punching bags – wait, no, forget that last one, I can absolutely design a punching bag that can stand up to Captain America. Or even better, one that'll punch back."
Steve's grin had grown wider and wider as Tony rambled, and so Tony decided that it was time to shoot shit, because he was not going to be subjected to any more gratitude.
"We'll say the line is here, I'll set up the bottles down there in the testing area. I'll take left, you take right, we'll switch part way – first to hit thirty bottles wins." Wanton destruction and an excuse to restock the liquor cabinet after they landed – Tony's idea of a good time.
"Wins what?" Steve asked, gauntlet already on.
"Respect. Bragging rights. A signed autograph from their favourite Avenger. And loser pays for lunch – I am dying for a burger."
"I know a place in Brooklyn," Steve said, watching his metal-covered fingers flex. "Burgers that'll give you a coronary from one bite."
"Perfect. Let's do this, Captain."
Steve grabbed Tony's arm as he moved to set up their impromptu firing range. "Wait. I have one more thing to say about what happened."
Tony stiffened. "All right. Hit me with it."
"You didn't kill Kadakia. I don't know how you feel about it, and you don't have to tell me, but I'm going to be selfish here and say that I'm glad I didn't have to watch a good friend do something terrible."
Tony didn't know how he felt about it either. There was some regret, a metric tonne of anger, and relief mixed in with dread that maybe it wasn't over. He wasn't sure which of these was the strongest, but right now, he could pinpoint one thing and cling to it: he just wanted to be done.
"Okay. Now let's do some damage, Cap. Start with the wine, would you? It's a crappy vintage, and I only kept it because some of my so-called high-class business partners have no taste."
"All right, but let's keep the rum out of it. That stuff burned in the right way," Steve said.
"And what's the wrong kind of burn, Rogers?" Tony asked with an arched eyebrow.
"The kind that happens when I wipe the floor with you with your own invention, Stark." Steve powered up the gauntlet. "Bring out the wine."
"You familiar with Casablanca, Steve?"
"Yeah, but don't you say it – even I know that line has been used and abused far too often." Steve cast Tony a fond grin. "But I'm right there with you."
Hopefully, Tony thought to himself, in a deep, dark recess of his mind, you'll be right there for a long while, Steve Rogers.
He let the darkness fall away and answered Steve's grin with a sincerely warm version of his own. He knew there was no easy comeback from the past few days, but he was about to blow up cheap wine and several hundred dollars' worth of champagne bottles with Captain America.
If there was a better cure for what ailed him, Tony couldn't think of it, and he was a Goddamn genius.
He fired his gauntlet, and if revenge had and had not been attained, if he had or had not done right by his parents, none of it mattered right then – he was standing next to Captain America, but he knew him better as Steve Rogers, and Tony's father would have liked this particular choice of Tony's; to be friends with the best man his dad had ever known.
And his mother would have done everything she could to mess up Steve's straight-laced image, probably in sneakier, subtler ways than Tony would.
The bottles exploded, wine painted the walls the red.
Tony was, in that laughing, loud moment, completely at peace with the world.
Author's Note: Thank you to OkamiPrincess over on AO3 for her idea to have Tony offer to take Steve on a journey to find Bucky :) Also, I know next to nothing about the Hampton Court Palace grounds – artistic license taken there!
All right, so I had trouble with this chapter – couldn't figure out Steve and Tony's conversations for the life of me. Then life kicked my butt all weekend – lots of work, some Age of Ultron, a birthday, etc. But, here I am, and here's the penultimate part. There will be an epilogue, and then we're done!
Thanks for being patient, and hopefully the epilogue will be up some time in the next couple of days!
Oh, and in case some of you don't know, the line from Casablanca that Tony and Steve were referring to: "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
