𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬
News the next day... was unexpected, to say the least. The mission that Wanda and the Avengers team had been on had taken a drastic turn - and not for the better. In trying to save the civilians of Lagos, some lives were lost.
Wanda blamed herself.
She had called Pietro, distraught at her own actions. She had caused an explosion which was the killer of innocent people. Ava could vaguely hear the woman sobbing over the phone pressed to Pietro's ear. They were talking hurriedly in the language they rarely used.
"Pietro? Can I speak to auntie Wanda?" Ava had asked shyly, wanting to assure the woman that she was proud and she had done well for the situation.
"Yes, of course." Pietro said, a bit of hesitation being spotted as he handed her his mobile phone.
"Hello?" Ava called into the phone, her voice loud. She still wasn't used to using phones and didn't really understand them very well.
"He— Hello, Ava!" Wanda greeted, trying to get rid of her shaky voice and negative mood for the little girl.
"Auntie Wanda, I wanted to tell you that you did good and Pietro and me are super, super proud of you!" Ava told her with a bright grin on her face, Pietro watching her with a soft smile. He was very proud.
However, Ava was still struggling with her language skills. She knew some German and a bit of Russian, but she could mostly remember English - why, she didn't know. She couldn't remember much. Nobody could figure out why that was, either.
It seemed nobody was really figuring out anything.
●
Tony Stark.
He has been called many things, he's been tortured, beaten down, picked back up and... just say that he's been through too much.
Many people could call him a coward, for hiding behind his money. His father's company. His own suit. But they wouldn't know. And they could never know. Anthony Stark had been to hell and back.
Fortunately, he had changed for the better.
An ageing woman sat at a piano, playing a soft tune on the polished keys. Her son lay on the couch, looking grumpy and annoyed, not to mention he was half asleep. Tony Stark - from the past.
"Try to remember the kind of September. When grass was green..." her singing stopped when her husband entered the room, white hair styled to perfection. Her fingers continued to move across the keys. "Wake up, dear, and say goodbye to your father." She told Tony, who began to shuffle around.
"Who's the homeless person on the couch?" Howard Stark asked, clenching his jaw. Tony finally staggered up, a Santa hat resting on his head.
"This is why I love coming home for Christmas. Right before you leave town." The younger and less tortured man said to his father, bitterness clear in his words.
"Be nice, dear, he's been studying abroad." Maria said, attempting to break up the tension between her son and husband.
"Really?" The man raised an eyebrows. "Which broad? What's her name?"
"Candice." Tony answered with humour, a barely noticeable smirk on his face as he slightly flared at his own father. Howard pulled his hat from his head, leaving his hair disheveled.
"Do me a favour? Try not to burn the house down before Monday." Howard said, clearly having no trust for his son.
"Okay, so it's Monday. That is good to know. I will plan my toga party accordingly. Where you going?"
"Your father's flying us to the Bahamas for a little getaway." Maria answered her son.
"We might have to make a quick stop." Howard mentioned to his wife, who remained unbothered. Tony, however, raised a brow.
"At the Pentagon. Right? Don't worry, you're gonna love the holiday menu at the commissary." Tony said, mostly towards his mother who stopped playing the piano.
"You know, they say sarcasm is a metric for potential. If that's true, you'll be a great man some day. I'll get the bags." He directed his final statement towards his wife, before he left the room without another word. Maria stood, making her way to stand closer to her son.
"He does miss you when you are not here. And frankly, you're going to miss us. Because this is the last time we're all going to be together. You know what's about to happen. Say something. If you don't, you'll regret it."
As Howard walked back into the room, Tony sighed. "I love you, dad. And I know you did the best you could." The younger Tony Stark told his father. Maria leant forward, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back, and older Tony was seen in the background. Howard and Maria Stark left.
"That's how I wished it happened. Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or BARF." He paused, before, "God, I gotta work on that acronym. An extremely costly method of hijacking the hippocampus to... clear traumatic memories. Huh." He blew on a candle, and everything shimmered and began fading.
The hologram disappeared, leaving Tony stood on the stage.
"It doesn't change the fact that they never made it to the airport. Or all the things I did to avoid processing my grief, but..." he trailed off before he took off his glasses. "Plus, 611 million dollars for my little therapeutic experiment? No one in the right mind would've ever funded it."
Tony stared out at the crowd in front of him, a small smile on his face. "Help me out, what's the MIT mission statement? 'To generate, disseminate... and preserve knowledge. And work with others... to bring it to bear on the world's great challenges.' Well, you are the others. And, quiet as it's kept... the challenges facing you are the greatest mankind's ever known. Plus, most of you are broke." He added at the end, making many students laugh.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Rather, you were. As of this moment... every student has been made an equal recipient of the Inaugural September Foundation Grant. As in... all of your projects have just been approved and funded." Cheers rang out from the students and Tony grinned at them. "No strings, no taxes... just reframe the future. Starting now."
'Now I would like to introduce the head of the foundation, Pepper Potts.' The screen above the crowd said, causing Tony's mood to shift downwards.
"Go break some eggs." He finally managed, before exiting the stage.
As soon as he was backstage, a selfish teacher ( who had no interest in the students — just his pay check ) hurried to his side to tell him about his idea. For a self-cooking hotdog. Luckily, Tony wasn't listening to the man embarrass him self.
"Restroom's this way, yeah?" Tony dismissively asked the MIT teacher, who replied with a 'yeah' before he continued with his hotdog ideas.
A woman quickly dashed to Tony's side, saying, "Mr. Stark, I am so sorry about the teleprompter. I didn't know Miss Potts had cancelled. They didn't have time to fix it." Tony nodded, his mind far away from the conversation.
"It's— fine. I'll be right back." He told them, the hotdog teacher attempting to arrange further communication for his terrible plans.
He exited through a door, spotting the bathroom. He hung around outside, ( which would have looked very creepy if there was somebody there ) before he journeyed down the corridor and towards the lift where a woman was waiting.
Breaking the silence, the woman spoke. "That was nice, what you did for those young people." She told him, as if he didn't already know — but he did.
"Ah, they deserve it. Plus, it helps ease my conscience." Tony told the woman, his back facing the wall as she stared at him.
"They say there's a correlation between generosity and guilt. But if you've got the money... break as many eggs as you like. Right?" She asked, her eyes burning with emotions as she shifted her bag towards her front.
Tony narrowed his eyes as he turned, seeing the button for the elevator unlit. He pressed it, slightly suspicious before saying, "Are you going up?"
"I'm right where I want to be." She told him sharply, her eyes narrowed at him.
Reaching a hand inside her handbag, Tony's hand clamped down on her wrist before she could remove her fingers. He slowly removed his hand from her arm as he realised what he did.
"Okay, okay. Hey. Sorry, it's an occupation hazard." He told her, moving his hands away from her and taking a small step back.
"I work for the State Department. Human Resources. I know it's boring... but it enabled me to raise a son. I'm very proud of what he grew up to be." She told the Iron Man, making his brows crease in confusion before she shoved a photo to his chest.
"His name was Charlie Spencer. You murdered him. In Sokovia. Not that it matters in the least to you. You think you fight for us— you just fight for yourself."
Tony shook his head, lips parted at the information given to him. "Who's going to Avenge my son, Stark? He's dead... and I blame you." She said, before she walked away — leaving Tony with his extra guilty conscience, unsure what his next move could be.
After all, she had a good question.
Who was going to avenge her son?