After the others left, the conference room finally fell silent.
Antony was just about to pour himself a glass of milk when the door opened again. Ashley stepped inside briskly.
"Sir, Instructor Rogers and Lieutenant Barnes have returned."
"Oh?" Antony chuckled softly. "Faster than I expected."
"They're waiting downstairs in the reception lounge. But…" Ashley hesitated. "They don't look happy."
"Send them up. And… call Tony back as well. Tell him some old friends are here."
-----
Five minutes later, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes entered the room.
Steve's expression was grave, brows tightly furrowed.
Bucky kept his head lowered, his metal arm flexing and relaxing unconsciously, the faint whir of servos barely audible in the stillness.
"Welcome back, Captain."
Antony leaned against the table, milk glass in hand. "Looks like your journey of self-discovery was… productive?"
"Antony."
Steve skipped the pleasantries. He stepped forward and placed a black hard drive on the table.
"We found Hydra's old base in Siberia."
"Not just dormant super soldiers," Steve continued heavily. "We also recovered mission logs from the past. Including…"
"Including a video file dated December 16th, 1991."
Antony's smile faded slightly as his eyes flicked to the drive.
"Howard Stark," he said calmly.
The two centenarians exchanged a stunned glance.
"You knew?" Steve asked.
"I'm Homelander, Steve. I've heard more secrets on this planet than you've eaten loaves of bread." Antony tapped his ear lightly. "If I want to listen, nothing is hidden from me."
He shrugged.
"Most of the time I don't bother. I have a life."
"If you already know," Steve said urgently, fists tightening, "then you understand what this means."
"So you came to me for advice?" Antony took a slow sip of milk. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
"We want your perspective," Steve said, something close to pleading in his eyes. "You're smarter than any of us. Calmer. If you were in our place… what would you do?"
Antony set the glass down and walked toward them, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"My advice is simple."
He pointed toward the door.
"Tell him."
"Everything. No omissions. No filters."
"What?" Steve stared at him. "Tony might kill Bucky on the spot."
"Captain," Antony asked suddenly, "what kind of man do you think Tony is?"
"He's… arrogant. Self-centered. Runs his mouth too much." Steve exhaled. "But he's a good man. He has a conscience. A sense of justice."
"Then trust him."
Antony rested a hand on Steve's shoulder.
"In this world, lies are the deepest wounds. If you hide it from him and he finds out on his own one day—that's when the real fracture happens."
Steve met Antony's steady gaze.
The certainty there slowly calmed the storm inside him.
"…All right."
He clenched his jaw.
"I'll trust you."
At that moment, the door opened again.
"So what's this mysterious 'old friend' business?"
Tony Stark strode in, halfway through a cheeseburger.
"If it's Fury coming to lecture me again, you can tell that—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
He saw Steve.
Then he saw the long-haired man sitting beside him.
"Well I'll be," Tony blinked. "Popsicle Captain's back? Heard you went on a honeymoon. So this your plus-one?"
He tried to inject humor into the room, but the air was too heavy to move.
"Tony," Steve said, standing, ignoring the joke. "This is Lieutenant James Barnes. My friend."
Tony's eyes drifted to the metal arm. He let out a whistle.
"Nice hardware. Soviet issue? Could use some lubrication."
He tilted his head.
"Wait… Barnes? The one who fell off that mountain? Wow. Your generation really nailed preservation technology. He looks… fresh."
Tony pulled out a chair and sat down.
"So what's this? A World War II reunion special?"
"Tony."
Steve cut him off.
"There are things you need to know."
He stepped half a pace forward, instinctively shielding Bucky with his body.
"We went to Siberia. Hydra's old base."
"We found files."
"Hydra created a line of super soldiers called the Winter Soldiers. Brainwashed. Frozen. Mentally conditioned into assassins."
At the words "mentally conditioned," Tony's playful expression froze.
That phrase was still raw.
Just a day ago, he himself had been nothing more than a puppet under Lorelei's control. The helplessness of it lingered like a nightmare he couldn't shake.
"Mind control…" Tony repeated quietly. "And this concerns me how?"
"It concerns you," Bucky said at last.
He rose slowly, gently pushing Steve aside.
"December 16th, 1991."
The date hung in the air.
"Long Island Expressway."
Crunch.
The cheeseburger crumpled in Tony's fist.
His breathing quickened.
That date.
The night his parents died.
The axis on which his entire life had turned.
"What are you saying?" His voice dropped, tight and dangerous.
"It wasn't a car accident," Steve said softly.
"It was an assassination."
"Hydra gave the order. They wanted the super-soldier serum your father developed."
Tony shot to his feet, the chair crashing backward.
"Who?" he demanded, eyes darting between them. "Who did it?!"
"It was me."
Bucky didn't look away.
"No excuses."
"That night, I ran the car off the road."
"Howard… was still alive. He said my name. He recognized me."
Bucky's voice trembled under the weight of memory.
"But I didn't stop."
"I killed him."
He swallowed.
"And then I walked around the car… and killed Maria."
Silence.
Thick. Suffocating.
Tony stood motionless.
How many years had it been?
Since that Christmas of 1991.
He'd lived with regret—never saying goodbye properly. Never telling his father he loved him.
He had believed it was fate.
A tragic accident.
Now he was being told—
It was murder.
And the man who did it was standing right in front of him.
Tony's hand moved instinctively toward his wrist.
The gesture to summon the armor.
--------------
T/N:
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