Tony stumbled over to the bed, and sat down heavily on the edge. He shook his head in disbelief that now, not only was Pepper appearing to him, but also Ginny. He swiped at some tears spilling over onto his cheeks, and took a deep breath. "I can't do this. What does she want me to do? I can't bring people back from the dead! It's impossible. This is ridiculous!" he chattered. He began to rock anxiously back and forth, still shaking his head. "That's it! I'm losing my mind. There's no way that just happened. Nope. Didn't happen. You're finally starting to crack, Stark! Pepper always said you would, and look! You have."
He suddenly stood up and began to pace nervously. "This has to stop. I can't keep doing this!" he cried. He shook his head again, and smiled in astonishment. "He was right! Rhodey was right. I should have done it a long time ago!" he admitted.
He marched directly to the box of Pepper's clothes that he had started to fill the night Ginny had her seizure, and hoisted it up into his arms. "J? Crank up the fire place, wouldja'?" he ordered.
"Sir, burning the contents of that box in the fireplace would be quite dangerous," the AI warned. "It was never designed to burn..."
"I know what it was designed for, JARVIS!" Tony scolded, marching out of the bedroom and down the stairs, the box of clothes in hand. "Just do it!"
"Sir, a house fire is certain," JARVIS implored Tony.
"Got it!" Tony barked. "But this stuff has to go tonight, J!"
"Might I suggest a call to a local Goodwill instead?" JARVIS offered.
"Nope!" Tony argued, as he stepped into the living room. "Not quick enough. I need this stuff out of here. I need..." Suddenly, Tony stopped as something jossled out of the box and landed with a loud slap on the floor. He stopped in his tracks and looked in the direction of the noise with a frown. It was the leather-bound diary he'd found in the box of his mother's belongings that was in his closet. He set the box down where he stood, and picked up the diary, looking at it curiously. "I can't believe I forgot about this," he muttered in astonishment.
Despite his protests, JARVIS had obeyed Tony's request and cranked the gas on the fireplace. The flames were roaring, and Tony noticed this as he made his way to the couch, his mother's diary in his hand.
"Cut the gas, J," Tony said.
"Thank the heavens," JARVIS replied, and immediately turned off the fireplace while bringing up the lights to the living room.
Tony sat down on the couch, and began to read through the pages. It was hand-written by his mother in Italian, and Tony's Italian was a little rusty. But from what he could tell, the entries began not long after they were married in the mid-fifties. She'd described the late nights that Howard spent working, and how many dinners she'd eaten alone at the dining room table. Tony could feel the loneliness in her words, and his heart went out to her. There was a good fifteen years between their wedding and his birth, and he suddenly wondered if maybe he was the product of her desperation to not have to be lonely any more.
His mother doted on him from day one. They were very close when he was growing up, and her death had hit him hard. Certainly harder than his father's had. As he read her diary entries, he started to be able to hear his mother's voice in his head, a recollection he'd long since packed away in the deep recesses of his mind, and it was a comfort to him. A welcome respite from the constant heartache he'd felt for so long.
One entry in particular suddenly caught Tony's attention. It read:
" Il 27 settembre 1956 (September 27th, 1956)
Caro Diario, (Dear Diary,)
Howard è tornato a casa questa sera più entusiasti che ho visto in un lungo periodo di tempo. (Howard came home tonight more excited than I've seen him in a long time.) C'è un nuovo progetto che sta per iniziare il lavoro, e mi è stato detto che sarà mantenuto Top Secret per ora, come il potenziale di essere abusato è molto elevata.(There is a new project that he is going to start working on, and I've been told it will be kept Top Secret for now, as the potential for it to be abused is very high.) Howard mi dice che implica la possibilità di viaggiare nei nostri passati o futuri. (Howard tells me it involves being able to travel into our pasts and our futures.) Come non posso spiegare, ma sembra aver capito come fare in modo che lavorare. (How, I can't really explain, but he seems to think he's figured out how to possibly make it work.) Se egli non figura, significherebbe un enorme cambiamento nel genere umano così come lo conosciamo.(If he does figure this out, it would mean a huge change in human kind as we know it.) Le persone potrebbero tornare indietro e modificare gli errori del passato, vecchia torti, e rammarico sarebbe una cosa del passato. (People could go back and change past mistakes, right old wrongs, and regret would be a thing of the past.) Come eccitante! Eppure, anche un po' paura! Mi chiedo cosa Howard potrebbe cambiare, se si potesse tornare al suo passato? (How exciting! And yet, it's also a little frightening! I wonder what Howard would change, if he could go back to his past?)"
Tony stopped reading and furrowed his brow. "Time travel? Was he serious?" he muttered. He never thought in a million years his father would even entertain the notion. The Howard Stark he knew would have thought this was a pie in the sky idea, totally impractical and a waste of time when he could be working on something to improve the here and now. But, as Tony thought about it, his father, in his younger days, was quite daring and thumbed his nose at conventional wisdom. This was a genetic trait, Tony supposed, smiling to himself about how much he and his dad were alike when they were younger. He could see that now, and appreciate it. But back then, all he wanted was to set himself apart from his father. Now, he realized they couldn't have been more alike.
Tony brought his eyes back to the page to finish reading the entry.
"...Domani, un chimico svizzero, Dr. Phillippe Guierre, credo che il suo nome, sarà in volo per soddisfare con Howard. (Tomorrow, a swiss scientist, Dr. Phillippe Guierre, I believe his name is, will be flying in to meet with Howard.) Ha collaborato con il medico di lavorare a questo progetto. (He's been partnered with the doctor to work on this project.) Da quello che ho sentito, il Dottor Guierre è uno dei migliori fisici, e Howard è sulla luna per ottenere la possibilità di lavorare con quest'uomo. ( From what I hear, Dr. Guierre is one of the world's top physicists, and Howard is over the moon about getting the chance to work with this man.)Vuole avere su di lui per la cena il più presto possibile. Trovare divertente. (He wants to have him over for dinner as soon as possible. It find that funny.) La maggior parte delle notti, I pasti da soli. Ma una notte mio marito verrà a casa per unirsi a me, ci sarà anche una cena ospite! (Most nights, I dine alone. But the one night my husband will be home to join me, we'll also have a dinner guest! ) Immagino che devo prendere quello che posso ottenere. SAPEVO quando ho sposato Howard che il suo lavoro è venuto prima. Non credo che mi piacerebbe essere distante un secondo! (I guess I have to take what I can get. I knew when I married Howard that his work came first. I just didn't think I'd be a distant second!)"
Tony set the diary down beside him, and rubbed his eyes. He worked his jaw in thought, his brow furrowed. If dad didn't think he could do it, he wouldn't have accepted the project, he thought. Another similarity between father and son, their massive egos, didn't allow for them to waste their time on projects they knew didn't have an acceptable probability of success. The less embarrassment of failure, the better. Which led Tony to believe that his dad had actually made some progress on this. But how would he ever know? He'd never come across any of his father's notes regarding this experiment, and God only knew where Dr. Guierre was these days, assuming he was still alive.
Something had to have happened to cause this partnership to break up, and for the project to be shelved. He tried to think back, but just couldn't recall ever hearing about this experiment, oddly. His father liked to talk about his work, and really nothing but his work, when he was home. Nothing else was more important, as his mother had also expressed. So why was this the first he'd heard of it?
All he knew was, he was meant to rediscover this diary. Could this be what Pepper was trying to tell him? That he needed to finish his dad's work, and go back in time to somehow save her and Ginny? And what would he do once he got there? Wasn't this condition they'd both died of supposed to be genetic?
Tony frowned and shrugged. He didn't have all of the answers, clearly. But first thing was first. If there was any way to locate Dr. Guierre just to see if there was ever a fighting chance of completing his dad's experiment, he owed it to his wife and daughter to try.
Tony looked skyward. "Hey J? You up?" he asked.
"For you, sir, always," the Ai responded.
"See what you can track down about a Dr. Phillippe Guierre? He worked with my father in the fifties on a time travel experiment. You might start with Switzerland."