String Theory

Chapter 4

His dream, though. That was what got Tony going.

He saw Peter. Didn't just dream about him, didn't imagine him. Tony saw him, the little rascal, bundled up in his Stark Expo hoodie, in the passenger seat of his Audi, sporting a fresh black eye and conversing with none other than James Barnes - why the hell is Barnes driving my Audi? And the hoodie's too big to even fit Tony snugly, Peter should know better, he should know there's a dresser full of clothes his size in the third room, and he should ice his eye, and he should eat protein, not just a pretzel.

It was too real too be just a dream. Not the sort of faded-black, distant image that dreams usually are; no, this was a 1080p, crystal clear front row seat to a roadtrip that was apparently at Tony's expense. And it was so mundane, too. The two talked about Barnes' arm, traded a few movie quotes, jammed to the radio. That's nothing his imagination would come up with. It's like he was the literal fly on the wall. It wasn't a dream. There's no way it was just a dream.

And then it started to make sense. The day before, he'd found a notepad with Peter's handwriting on it. He'd figured it was old, but now - what if it isn't? What if the kid's out there? Tony didn't waste time debating over it. If he can see the shit that Peter wrote, then maybe Peter can see things that he writes. It's worth a shot. The first thing he did when he woke up was tear out 8 pieces of paper, spelling out a large, single letter on each, and then laying them out on the floor, spelling COME HOME.

After that, Tony'd started researching the scribbles that Peter had left behind: KINGSMAN, GALAHAD, ORTHUS, 1028139001008. Absolutely nothing came to light with Orthus, but Kingsman was pretty simple to track down. On the surface, it's a simple tailor's shop, but with a few lines of malware and a couple firewall algorithms, it revealed itself to be a global intelligence agency, operating independently. Unbridled by government bureaucracies, Kingsman was a hidden powerhouse that had over 400 globally catastrophic near-misses under its belt. That was just the online database, which began in 1962, and when Tony scrolled to the bottom of the list, the archive politely informed him that it didn't include the 113 years of analog data dating back to 1849.

Maybe he expected to find Barnes in the personnel files. It would make sense, given the man's tangled history with HYDRA. Who knows what else he got involved in against his will? Maybe HYDRA loaned him out. Something— anything that Peter left behind that could connect to Tony's dream could help, and Barnes is the best bet, but Tony has a sinking feeling that Kingsman won't be rabbit trail that leads him to the two.

When Tony opens the files, ten folders appear before him, each titled in bold lettering with a name of one of King Arthur's knights. A smile threatens the corners of his mouth— Arthur and his knights had been Tony's favorite heroes in his childhood, and he knows every name by heart. He goes through each file, but none of the people match Barnes in any way. What's more disconcerting, though, is that every file he opens lists DECEASED next to the agent's name, one after another, until he's to the last file.

GALAHAD. ( 2 )

He sits up a little straighter, glances to the paper where GALAHAD is scribbled in Peter's chicken scratch. Like the file name suggests, there's two folders inside. Tony flicks the first one open. It's a kid - not even 20 years old yet, bright-eyed and grinning broadly at the camera. He's the top of his class, excellent weapons scores, great psych eval.

Unwin, Gary - "Eggsy." DECEASED.

He can't help but think of Peter. Tony's heart sinks a little. The organization had seemed to be doing nothing but good, and it looks like they've all but been wiped out. He almost doesn't bother opening the last file, but just to sate his curiosity, he does.