Ugh, that shit Pai face running the FCC is going to officially shut down Net Neutrality on the 23rd of April. Dammit people, we better enjoy this fanfic stuff before we're run out and forced to pay more than what we already do to get here. I swear, next thing I know my dad is probably going to tell me to pay for my own internet service to get here on this site, but with my already lousy paychecks, I'll only have a blue screen of death staring back at me. If any of you love the internet as much as I do, make some noise to the assholes in FCC/Congress that we want Net Neutrality back!
Anyway, backing out of the political crap shitting down on our plates this year (oh look, World War III is knocking on our door. Mr. President, wanna get that?).
Oh. My. GOD!
INFINITY WAR IS UPON US! THANOS, THE PURPLE MENACE, IS CLOSING IN ON EARTH!
I'm so freaking hyped! First it was BLACK PANTHER which was badass/beautiful/bawling my eyes out, now we have the purple menace swaggering up in the scene like, "what up, I got a big cock!" and everyone's just screaming themselves hoarse because "who the fuck is gonna die?!" and I'm so not prepared for that! I don't think any of you are prepared for this! I AM NOT READY!
Ahem, here's another chapter for you guys, sorry that it's short. I know it's been like a long ass time since you've waited, but ya'll are probably gonna end up waiting some more no thanks to those shitty ISP's who want to control whatever the hell we get into to make more money and control the masses of what content they depend on for news from the outside world (sorry, my political side is salty as hell).
Disclaimer: MCU belongs to Disney and Marvel Studios/Comics, I only claim ownership over my Original Character(s) and a little bit of the plot!
Warning: Language, Violence, Adult Content, possible Triggers (there will be heads-up for these things), and whatever comes to mind.
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ഢҼb oҒ أӣҭԻأᏩմҼ
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B Ƭ
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"Are you kidding me?!"
Tony didn't have to look to know he was being watched by the murder twins not two feet away from where he was standing. There was no use in subtlety if there was practically nothing they could occupy themselves with to pretend they weren't listening in, so that left them to watch the proceedings of his and Rhodey's conversation without shame.
"Any louder, honey-bear?" Tony said as he glared over his shoulder at the others.
All he got was a raised eyebrow from one and a blank look from the other. They could at least pretend to walk into another room despite the walls being thin; that would have been the polite thing to do.
'Nosy ass spies.'
"Unbelievable. After everything, you're going to help SHIELD bring the girl in? Tony, whatever sweet deal they gave you, ignore it. They ain't worth it." Rhodey glowered from the other side of the line and Tony was grateful they were a couple of states away from each other. Rhodey literally growling at him sent shivers, and not the sexy kind.
"I'm not helping anyone bring the girl in." Tony snapped, glaring at the ugly wallpaper. "I'm here to make sure that SHIELD doesn't walk away with the girl in tow and that they don't slip up in alerting our presence to Third Reich 2.8."
Rhodey went quiet and he felt sharp eyes on the back of his head.
"Not for the lack of trying, I can't really do much against them." Tony's eyes roved over to Romanoff once more.
As much as he wanted to believe that he had the upper hand, he didn't. Fury was aware of the thin ice he found himself standing on, the gravity of the situation threatening to break beneath him and send his faction in the icy depths with no hopes of crawling out alive. Because just as Tony had leverage over Fury and his minions, they had as much power over Stark Industries and himself. This put them all in an awkward place where their hands were on the wheel but neither of them trusted the other not crash the entire car (Oh, Jesus, bad analogy to think of with Barnes standing right there.), but there really was no way out of this... not without tipping the scales dangerously.
If Tony threatened do something towards Fury, he had no doubt that the one-eyed bastard would pull some stunt which exposed everyone to the neo-Nazis and put everybody else in jeopardy. Tony would not take that risk.
In short summary: they were as a lose-lose situation where HYDRA would come out the winner if he and Fury didn't play nice with each other. Rhodey's brief disappearance from the line told Tony that the other man was probably cursing something vicious about the tough spot they landed in (a shady cyclops and a death star, dark siths and all).
"Because these assclowns are apparently in the same boat as us," everyone could practically hear the seething rage dripping off of Rhodey's voice. "Right. How pretty damn convenient of them."
"Hey, I don't like this any more than you do. They're a shady bunch; but if it helps you sleep at night, I've already crossed out a handful from the suspect's list."
"... Just look after yourself, Tones. You're not their personal janitor they should turn to when things get messy."
"Yeah, I wouldn't look too hot in a custodian's uniform anyway." Tony smiled.
It was like making another big gamble again; Romanoff was pretty much like Freezer Burn, so much red on her ledger that weighed as much her work with SHIELD that he had no idea whether to put his chips on the bet that she was on their side of the spectrum. Yet, for all everyone knew, she could possibly string him and the others along under the false pretense of working for the same goal. She had nearly wormed her way into his good graces once when he had hired her as his new PA to replace Pepper until Barnes sniffed her out into exposure.
Tony knew it was only a matter of time until she tried again.
"Put my boy Bucky on the line, Tones."
Heeding the request, Tony pulled off his earpiece and tossed the tiny device towards the other man. Barnes easily caught the device with a single hand and pulled it over his ear to make his own conversation with his new pal of the 21st Century.
(hadn'thetakenenoughfromyou?)
He turned away.
Aside from the hidden bag containing the costume, the apartment was empty of weapons (unless kitchen knives were counted as secret weapons).
Tony seated himself on the sofa, letting Barnes and Romanoff do their own thing while he checked things over at SI. So far, Pepper was handling the entire investigation the company was going under. He knew it was risky business when he started this whole inquisition against basically the entire world, but like hell he was going to stand by and let it continue. So much was messed up because of this ignorance that kept majority of the population blind, HYDRA shaping and bending history towards a tipping point that there was no climbing back up from it should the world fall. Thanks to the person who delivered this, he was going to use this information and knock it all down within a span of a few short years.
He blinked when the sound of footsteps closed in on his spot, and he glanced upwards to find Barnes, who had finished up his own small talk with Rhodey, walking around the sofa to take a spot on a reclining chair from across him. Those eyes, despite having cataloged everything in the last twenty minutes, never seemed to get tired of looking around like a little kid making their first trip to Disney World.
Tony supposed it beat having to catch Barnes staring at nothing for hours (or a whole day), making the genius squirm at how dead those eyes of his seemed. It was like looking at a plate of a whole fish, its charred eye staring back at him as he cut into it to take the meat. Glazed and endless. It was a good thing Rhodey and the others were able to keep the Soviet killbot occupied with a list of pop culture movies everyone recommended, books to read on both paperback and from a tablet, or sometimes even explore outside the Malibu mansion to the California streets (away from the population, of course).
JARVIS kept him updated of Barnes' progress with Pepper occasionally pitching in after a meeting with the doctors.
Nobody thankfully forced any interactions between him and Barnes. Even logically knowing what the poor bastard went through, HYDRA turning him into something less human and more machine-like, it still did not make it easier for Tony to separate the man's face from the killer he watched on the black and white CCTV screen. The others would ask every now and then if he would like to join them when they went to see Barnes, but Tony always declined their offers and nobody forced the issue again. The only few instances where Tony found himself in the same room as Barnes was when there was a new breakthrough for the ex-assassin's mental recovery, a medical check up where his presence was required, or when there was a visit to his workshop that had something to do with the multiple issues Barnes' metal arm had (a technological marvel that might have once intrigued the engineer but now only served as an ugly reminder of the many lives it had stolen).
It didn't help that those bastards who forced their HYDRA-issued diabolical arm couldn't be removed, much to Tony's grief. He wanted that damn arm off so he could destroy it and throw the remains into the deepest and darkest parts of the ocean, never to resurface in the light of day again. It was integrated dangerously into Barnes' spine that removing the entire thing would be risky, even for a super soldier. The doctors couldn't do anything to help their patient who experienced bouts of pain flaring from the wires connected to his nervous system (one doctor suggested this had been done on purpose to keep Barnes compliant and dependent on the medical team who was placed in charge of him). The only relief Tony could offer was switching the thing off occasionally, but that was only a temporary band-aid.
"What happens after we take her?"
It took an admittedly embarrassing few long seconds for Tony to realize that Barnes was talking to him, the only person within the vicinity of the question while Romanoff was off snooping inside the girl's closet and drawers.
"Well, our biggest priority is to make sure that she's taken under our protection, none of that Men in Black bullshit that cyclop's got going for him. Fury can't hope to keep our whistleblower alive under his custody." Tony explained.
"And then?" Barnes persisted.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Tony responded firmly.
Truthfully, Tony wasn't sure about what scenario would play out when the young woman returned to her apartment.
The Weiss girl could see the entire thing as a trap. Whatever trust, however small, she had in giving Tony the truth about everything and everyone around him could easily evaporate the moment she saw them. It didn't help that he brought along one of her former jailers, the very one who had beaten and terrorized her throughout the time she served as HYDRA's prisoner before her escape.
But then, why else would she have helped him escape? She could have saved herself, yet she dragged the Winter Soldier until leaving him to his own devices while she made a run for it.
"She was really lucky." Barnes had said once, eyes always distant whenever he spoke of her. "It's like those one-in-a-million chances when someone wins a lottery or gets struck by lightning. Nobody expected her to pull it off. To actually escape HYDRA."
This was an organization that thrived inside the darkness whereas only SHIELD edged along the shadows to keep an eye on the rest of the world, oblivious to what was hiding deeper inside. The security was air tight and there could have been no way, no possibility, that she could have escaped without being some mind-controlling psychic to trick her guards and break her way out—but that wasn't what happened.
It was an escape that made Steve McQueen's character in "The Great Escape" fall utterly short.
What happened, according to Barnes, was something he never saw coming (once the memories were carefully recollected through intense sessions of hypnotherapy).
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The Asset recognized he suffered a lapse of judgement.
He recognized that after spending a few hours in the Chair, reminding him that there was no room for error. They were beginning to wonder if they should put him back in the ice if this continued, but they needed him to push their newest student.
But the pain made him thrash wildly, made the leathers wrapped around his arms, chest, and legs strain when he felt every bolt run through him. His teeth threatened to crush the mouth guard they stuck in his mouth, barely muffling his screams as the electrical surge tossed him around in the throes of agony. He was stuck between feeling numb and then feeling all too much, like someone was raising and lowering the volume of his pain tolerance.
And then—there came the words.
"желание"
Something like a primal instinct coming from deep inside the shards of frost was honing in on a long forgotten map to someplace he knew not. It made his feet want to travel wherever it would take him, his hands reach for what escaped through his fingers. It was there, whatever it was, he had to simply go and find it. But the Chair made him stop, made him lose the nerve to move, and unable to remember that sense of longing.
"ржaвый"
He was tired. He was always tired. Exhausted even after he woke from the cold chambers of his cryotube, but they needed him to keep going and to keep working for them. If he stopped, then he would go to waste; a weapon left to rust was a weapon no longer of use. The Asset would not go to waste.
"Семнадцать"
Maybe it was how many times he succeeded, how many times he failed, how many times he learned, there was something about it that made him think of seventeen lit candles and wishes, his tongue vaguely recalling the taste of something sweet beyond the blood and plastic stuck between his teeth.
"Рассвет"
It was a new day on the horizon, a new era that needed to be reshaped, a direction averted of the path is strayed from. The world was a dark place, the Asset was told, and so he must move in the shadows to do what could not be brought in the light, so that when the day broke there would be a new tomorrow for them to strive towards.
"Печь"
Heat was a luxury. Heat had been absent most of his time here, or wherever he was with a new face and name to follow after his last handler had been taken by age. They left him to thaw, to slowly chip away the winter, frost, and cold fog that clung onto him, and even then it followed his footsteps. No, there was no heat to be found with the Asset. He was too cold, he burned.
"Девять"
Another number, another meaning unknown; a cat that's spent all nine of it's lives, too many chances and dances with death. He's lived longer than a cat, stagnant like still water forced to a halt, and a tiny voice (screaming) tells him that's not normal. The voices stops where the electricity starts.
"добросердечный"
The Asset was not stable. His strength was too much, the bones giving away beneath his grip, and bruises formed too easily when his fingers pressed hard enough. It was allowed most of the time, but what was not tolerated was when he retreated from the punishment. The Chair made him learn to mind his manners, to be kind, to be benign.
"возвращение на родину"
Another victory one through force and effort, another reward securing him a painless day where he would be put away to sleep. Into the machines, into the darkness, the fog of winter whispering him to shut his eyes. This must be what the Asset was sure felt like coming home after being away for so long.
"Один"
The Asset would be the weapon to end all wars. He would be the guillotine to execute any and all who stood in the way towards the path of true freedom from the world of chaos. The Asset was the one and nobody else.
"грузовой вагон"
(endoftheline)
The thrashing, the quaking, the trembling, and then the twitching before it fell into complete stillness. Like a statue carved from the glaciers that constantly surrounded him, he looked ahead for the way to go was only forward for everyone. His erratic heart was forcefully put under control through measuring breaths of calm, the visual focus that blurred the world together from the pain shifting back into composure. All eyes watching the Asset.
Like a good student, he sat docile and cool. Manners beaten into him until it became second hand nature for him to act as was expected of him when he stepped a toe out of line, and everyone looked appeased from this.
They take him out of the Chair.
Being led out through the doors, more like hauling his heavy frame while his feet was dragging behind him, the Asset closed his eyes to rest for a brief moment. They would take him back to the armory where he would be suited up and prepared for the next training courses to hasten his progress to memorize the progress he made. They were walking through the prison blockade, the Asset observed as he took in the empty cells beyond the enforced bars.
The Asset does not recall if he had been in one of those some time ago. He was better off not remembering it, it was easier that way.
There was a girl in one of the cells.
The new student; the one they needed him to guide.
He hadn't been anyone's teacher in a long while, but if they were ordering it then he was obligated to do as was instructed. She wasn't screaming or crying, they've already taught her to silence her cries; she wasn't trembling like a leaf in the cell which meant she was becoming accustomed to their comings and goings. But the fact that she was still stuck inside a cell full of cold water also told him that she was a difficult student that refused to adhere to the lessons from whatever teacher was left in charge of her education.
All the while he was analyzing her, from her malnourished-looking face to her deathly pale skin, she was watching him.
Vague as it was, he could recall how most would regard the Asset. A majority looked at him in fear, his fellow peers looked at him with awe and respect (glad that they weren't on the other side of his guns and knives), his handlers watched him with satisfaction after every successful mission, and his superiors gazed at him with pride at his work in helping shaping the world to their perfect image.
The girl—
She was looking at him with sadness.
She was looking at him like he was the one who was locked behind bars, like he was the one suffering in the cold water that sapped his body's natural heat, like he was the one that was not being fed enough food and water, like he was the one that was suffering the most. The Asset didn't understand much, he was only good for predicting reactions when he was at work to create skirmishes between two parties that were on the brink of a fight, but this... he was lost on things like these. Was she not suppose to be scared? Fear meant learning, being beaten was being corrected of a mistake, so why was she looking at him like that? He was a better soldier, a better weapon; the Asset was better than her.
Her lips were moving.
It was soundless. He stared at her, trying to make out the words her mouth was shaping, but he was already too far away from the girl.
It didn't matter. He'd see her again real soon after he was ready. They'd take her out of the cell from the prison block, put her in a room with him to resume where they left off before his relapse. He was going to push her, and if he had to, he'd beat her until her teeth were knocked inside her throat and her nose was crushed by his metal fist. She'll be in pain for days even with her superior healing factor, but this will help her in the end to fall in line with the rest of the students.
For now, though, for now...
The Asset wanted to rest his eyes for a few minutes.
His throat was still sore from screaming that he was sure the girl heard his voice carry out down the halls of the prison cell block.
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"You need to stop."
Tony ignored him.
"You can't—" Rhodey inhaled sharply through his flared nostrils, trying to reign it all back in. "You need to be careful, man. These assholes have eyes and ears everywhere, we need to play it cool and keep our heads down. You trying to stir things up isn't going to help anyone."
The bastards had taken so much from him. They had taken his parents from him, isolated him from the rest of the old Howlies and their respective families, and subtly guided Tony towards the playboy lifestyle full of debauchery that no one would be surprised if the heir of Stark Industries died one day from an overdose. Tony was only ever glad that Rhodey had been there to pull him back from the edge of the cliff, but his chills returned to full force when he saw a few reports where some wondered if they should eliminate Rhodey to get Tony to lose control of his life again.
"No." Tony snarled over his shoulders, enraged eyes glaring back towards Rhodey. "I'm not going to sit down with thumbs up my ass while this is going on!"
He flicked a holoscreen up in a nearby workbench before Rhodey could put in another word, JARVIS pulling up a list of names with pictures to go along with.
"Do see that? Do these people look familiar?" he nodded at the screen. "Those are Stark Industries employees! I have fucking HYDRA Nazi's hiding inside my company, looking over every shoulder to gather everything to send back to their hive! Jesus Christ, Rhodey! They've been stealing so much shit from me, I wouldn't be surprised if they're already working on recreating the arc reactor!"
"You fire them and they'll know!"
"I know!" Tony slammed a fist on the table, rattling the contents on the surface.
The elder of the two men lowered his head, biting his bottom lips from how shaken he felt from the overload of information thrust upon their hands. It was the weakest he had ever felt in his entire life, so weak in fact that he almost wished he never stumbled across this horrid truth. He wanted to pretend a little longer to be oblivious to the truth, but Jim Rhodes knew better than to turn his cheek the other way when it really mattered.
The pilot could still picture the way Howard's face easily caved in from a single punch. He laid awake so many nights, the ugly video creeping in at the darkest hours as he stared up at his ceiling with blank eyes that held terrible images. And Tony knew his best friend had trouble sleeping because there was shadows under his own eyes as well, but rather than lay awake in bed, he settled for combing through the files to get them organized and create a list.
A hit list, so to speak.
"Tony," the other man softly murmured.
Their eyes connected, both tired and angry.
"I almost lost you. Twice. Don't make the third time a charm." Rhodey pleaded.
He was right, Tony exhaled heavily as he slumped down on a nearby stool like a machine finally giving out after overworking itself into exhaustion, he couldn't go in guns blazing. As tempting as it was to let the skeletons fall out of closet, to grind and crush these filthy snakes and mount their defeat on a wall to gloat about when he walked by, they would sooner react before anybody could assemble themselves.
Given their fantastic history in destroying anything and anyone who was in close range before they died, Tony didn't want to risk any innocent lives that were caught in the middle of it all.
There was also innocent agents to consider. He exempted those guys from his hit list, people with a somewhat "clean" record before they retired, others that were deep undercover, and some who were under protection with their families. If Tony had unleashed all these damning files into the internet, the whole thing could exploded in a lot of peoples faces.
Families slaughtered, retirees targeted, undercover agents exposed and instantly annihilated on the spot without warning, and other fellow agents not part of HYDRA caught unawares that it would all end it a bloody mess to clean up after. HYDRA would die slowly, and it was going to infect everyone they could spread their poisonous disease with before it was burned to the ground. It would take so long to destroy every base completely, dismantle their infrastructure from within the countless governments, branches, departments, and organizations it infiltrated throughout the years.
But, Tony looked up at the holoscreens, with a lot of discreet maneuvering and restrained patience... HYDRA could be destroyed within a few short years.
As much as it pained him to, he had to slowly cut off the diseased and rotten parts of the spoiled open wound before he could close it completely. It was going to sting, it was going to freaking hurt like a bitch, but with time and effort, they were going to severe the head of the parasite for good.
"We have all the information we need," his best friend walked up to one holoscreen. "We do this right, they'll be the ones wishing they hadn't started this shit in the first place."
"Alright." Tony acquiesced. "Let's do this."
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Months later, after he transferred a few employees to other departments that didn't have enough things to be taken to interest with HYDRA, had taken the "asshole boss" persona, threatened to fire a few with false accusations of incompetence in their work stations, and generally making every neo-Nazi agent in his company feeling absolutely miserable with the help of JARVIS, Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, and several of his most loyal workers he screened and personally hand-picked, something made itself known in his radar.
An alert come one evening from JARVIS while he was sharing a pizza slice or two with Happy. Thinking nothing of it, he pulled up his phone and looked at the screen.
There was a stranger standing in front of a doorway, the video coming live from one of JARVIS' hidden cameras.
A doorway that looked eerily familiar to Tony that he had to zoom out and see where he could place it.
...
His old house.
His parents' house. The giant mansion in Manhattan that he left behind after mom and dad had went and—he inhaled sharply, forgetting his surroundings and zeroing in on the stranger that was still standing there and staring at the doorway of his family's home.
(murderingpieceoffilthkillitkillitkillitKILLIT!)
"Boss?" Happy sat up, alarmed at Tony's sudden change.
"J, ready the suit!" Tony called out to the house, already on the way to the basement where he kept his suits.
"Sir, if I may—"
"No, JARVIS, you may fucking not."