From suspended stirrings of black smog, stepped out a handsome dark-haired man in a trench coat.
"So this is your boy, hmm?" Finger tapping his lower lip, the Harbinger of Death peered down the hilltop to the cemetery below. Green, poisoned gaze singled onto a teenager. Tony, the boy, stood morbidly still as he watched his parents' coffins getting lowered into the ground. A balding man placed a hand on his shoulder and gripped it. Whispering words of support into Tony's ear. This didn't sit well with Harry.
That man's soul was putrified by greed and envy. The rubbery mess of it rubbed against the boy's shining blue. Ugly and foul.
Deep inside of Harry, Howard's oath tugged.
"Target number one," Harry smiled sweetly and raised a forefinger and thumb to outline baldy's head. Squishing it between his fingers many a time. "How should I get rid of you….I wonder."
.
In the day following Starks' murders and prior to the funeral, Harry had done a routine investigation of this dimension. Howard was no billionaire to scoff at, he had found. A certified genius and entirely self-made, he had helped manufacture the super soldier serum which gave birth to Captain America and succinctly won them WW2.
Superhero's exist in this dimension.
This was not his first rodeo in with such a concept, and thoroughly decided against fraternising with some super-secret-hero-club. That life ceased the moment he became Death.
Death must remain impartial on such heavy affairs, lest he creates a cataclysmic event in time and space and some higher being comes knocking at his door instead of one of his subordinates.
He can be the boy's protector. Not the world's.
That was God's division.
.
Howard having departed this world, the title of CEO and everything that entangled it fell onto Tony's scrawny shoulders. Who came to the rescue to ease that overwhelming pressure?
Baldy. Aka, Obadiah Stane.
Harry wanted to slingshot him to another milky-way just so he'd quit breathing the same air as Tony. Or quit breathing at all, for that matter. Whichever the shoe fit.
Unfortunately, and Harry truly does mean unfortunately in all sense of the word, Tony appeared to admire the dingus. Saw him as a stand in father-figure. Which - gross. If Obadiah suddenly went missing the kid would probably search for him all his life thinking he's a stand up guy.
Harry's brain told him that it really wasn't any of his business what the kid thought as long as he wasn't in danger. As life would have it, that part of his brain went largely ignored since birth, so…
This lead him to digging up dirt on the gooey-souled bastard late one night in Stark Industries. Workers having gone home for the night, Harry slyly crept about the place until locating Obadiah's obnoxiously large office.
Having been Death for centuries, ventured across many dimensions, journeyed from mystical lands to utopias to dystopias - Harry could have weeped at how out-dated this technology was.
With pitiful ease, Harry zapped a grain of magic into the device, churned a bit of want and popping up on the screen file after file, email after email was Obadiah's evidence of guilt. Misconduct. And all around sinful deeds against Howard, Maria and Tony. They were originally deleted. Smart criminals like Obadiah erase incriminating documents the moment they prove useless.
No truth can ever escape Death, however insignificant.
Manifesting a usb stick, Harry began the file transfer. Tiny files flew across the screen and into a folder. Green loading bar bouncing up in percentage. Waiting for it to complete, Harry sat back in the plush desk chair and scanned through documents at dizzying speed.
Information having ploughed his brain - in little to no time it became sparkling clear that Obadiah organised the Stark's deaths. Colluded with Hydra. Going to far as to implement backup plans of Tony's own demise if he ever proved to be a competitor in the industry.
The office light switched on and Harry strained his neck beyond the bulky computer to the person in the doorway. Eyebrow arched.
"Cashing in some overtime?" Tony Stark inquired. Arms crossed and casually lent against the doorway. Faintly, he felt like he'd met the man somewhere.
"Mmmh," Harry politely smiled. Transfer percentage at 78%. "Perhaps."
Clearly Tony hadn't expected him to play along. He scoffed, eyes rolling. "Cut the crap, who are you working for?"
"Working for.…"
"Corporate spy," Tony wagged a finger at him. "You reek of it."
"I may be," Harry happily bobbed his head up and down, internally wondering why the Starks always assumed he was a shady person. "Corporate spy. Huh. I work for that funny little bald man. Name rhymes with pariah."
"Honestly, I've heard better lies from my ex."
"That's funny," Harry commented sweetly, "Seeing as you couldn't sniff out Obadiah's."
"Such a tragedy, little spy." Tony clapped a hand over his heart and sighed. "Your machinations won't work on me. I'm too clever."
"Don't believe me?" A confident smile played Harry's face. The computer beeped in its finished transfer. Silencing any confused snarky comment from Tony. Removing the usb stick, Harry stood and patted down his coat.
His mind flared in anguish and pure, hot rage. It had not been a day since the funeral and already a stranger was accusing his Godfather of murdering his closest friends.
"Tomorrow's headline will be all about Obadiah's transgressions against the company, wonder if you'll believe me then."
"Not a corporate spy, then." Tony's cocky attitude soured. "Journalist."
"He ordered the hit on your parents, you know," Harry said and Tony could have missed it if he weren't paying rigid attention. It was a casual sentence, as though he were commenting on the weather. "Oh, of course you don't," and he whispered intimately into the air between them. "You're not smart enough."
Tony didn't respond. He simply watched in silent fury as Harry walked around the desk, toying with his usb. Security would be here any second, and he will take great pleasure in ensuring his immediate arrest for not only trespassing, but defamation.
"I'm going to make sure you'll go to the foulest jail imaginable for that." He promised, aching to punch that smug grin off the young man's face. He could hear the security team approaching. Tasers, boots, batons and protective gear marching loud clanks in the vacant floor.
"For that…" the man took lazy steps towards him. Above the office lights flickered and a chill crawled down Tony's spine in a feverish sweat. Without meaning to he retreated back from the man. Primal fear guiding his trembling steps. A part of his brain shouted at him. Humiliated by his reaction to a simple man. The lights flickered, luminescent glow harshening the journalist's twisted smile. "You'd first have to catch me."
"Sir!" A security guard shouted at him from behind. Tony shrieked. Gaze leaving Harry then returning in astonishment. "Sir? where's the threat - Sir!"
The lights reorient themselves. An empty office faces Tony.
.
Hours following news outlets explode in a cluster. Stark Lawyers suit up in defence for Obadiah who, they relay; 'has no comment to these absurd allegations' 'this is defamation at its finest'.
In less than 40 minutes after reviewing the usb data news outlets published they succinctly kick Obadiah to the curb.
In the arresting procedure after he's found undeniably guilty of a number of crimes, SHIELD grab him by the tail feathers.
It is there that Harry, observing from afar in spiteful delight, a familiar figure approached the unmarked police van with a grenade launcher. One second he's there, a SHIELD worker tensed. Hand on gun holster, then in a blink, a pop, he is gone.
.
Days passing Obadiah's conviction and disappearance, Harry found Tony passed out in a hotel suite. Surrounded by beautiful women and in a state of utter despair. The young man could have been the very definition of a meltdown. Or a heeding advertisement for intoxication.
Betrayal isn't a kind companion. Especially when in the guise of family.
"Excuse me, ladies," Harry taps the shoulder of a young thing in the middle of trying to take a photo. No doubt to sell to some sleazy pap. While Harry applauded her cunningness, he couldn't allow Tony being the target. He covers her shriek with a hand and places his own finger on his lips. Miming her to shush.
Stunned frozen, he snatched the camera and perished it in a fist. Her friends behind stared wide-eyed.
"Mr Stark has had a tiring past couple of days. Let's not give him any more undue rest," he said kindly and snagged their dropped clothes. Handing it to each and every woman. His voice and motions creeped out in silent notches, unnerving the three ladies who quickly change and let themselves out. Whispering to one another who he is. Butler, boyfriend, guardian?
Witnesses dispersed, Harry whipped his hand in the air like a conductor motioning the orchestra - and the room pulled itself together. Empty bottles evaporate, chairs realign, evidence of the previous nights sinful acts dispersing with incredulous simplicity.
Tony truly was a sore sight, Harry grimaced. Staring at the young man tangled in bed sheets. Nakedness thankfully hidden.
"You're lucky I'm true to my oaths, brat."
And then he disappeared with a pop.
.
Obadiah taken care of and the people surrounding Tony being thoroughly vetted, Harry returned to sourcing out where exactly he had left his fish. It was a very special fish, one must understand. Unlike any of its kind.
He had, it appeared to Harry in his dreams some late night when the moon was full and the tide was nigh - left it in Universe 3.20 under a cherry blossom tree. In the Emperor's garden.
So he popped back into that dimension, snatched his fish, and popped right back out before anybody could start firing arrows.
There was this disagreement had had with the Emperor concerning chickens and eggs…
"There you go, little fella," Harry gently helped his fish into its bowl. It would have been a sad world had his fish actually decided to not like oxygen. Seeing the fish happily swim around its oceanic bowl - magically enlarged once inside it - Harry returned to the screaming man bound, gagged and crucio'd in the centre of the cabin he had, ahem, acquired under some funny circumstances.
"Sorry about that," Harry laughingly apologised as he released the curse. The man slumped. Releasing a broken sob, his body trembled in terrible aftershock. Cold as ice despite being next to an open fireplace. "I forgot I left you like this. Ha ha~" He patted the man's damp head and looked to where he had left the soldier earlier. Sprawled on the couch. Eyes and expression vacant with newfound freedom. "Hey, Bucky."
Empty eyes turned to him.
"Why did you try and assassinate Obadiah?"
"He…" Bucky struggled, throat raw. Wobbly from not being used properly, "knew too much."
"Figures," Harry puffed a disappointed breath and went back to giving the tied up Nazi a stink eye. "Do you know who this guy works for?"
"Hydra."
"Do you like Hydra?" Harry had to ask. For all the history books told him in these short days, Harry wasn't 100% certain Bucky held similar ideals. Even without his desire, brainwashing and warp a guy's mind. "Do you still want to work for them?"
"I…" for the first time expression rippled Bucky's face. "I…they hurt me."
"Good enough for me," and Harry ripped the soul out of the tortured man's body. Bucky watched life faint out of his handler and shivered. He stared at the Harbinger of Death, and waited for the same to happen to him.
Harry pushed the man's body into the fire and walked around the burning trail. In seconds this cabin would be ash and bone. Smile twisted, he squatted in front of Bucky.
"Let's get a drink."
.