advanced | For Tony Stark

For Tony Stark

[He's been on the run for what feels like decades, but is really only a few months. He knows he's doing a good job at being hidden because ever since the helicarriers fell out of the air there hasn't been a single confirmed sighting of him, and he knows that Steve is looking. Not just Steve, either. He's just not ready to be found yet.

The easiest way to move between countries, he's found, is by stowing away on private chartered flights. They're usually less attended than commercial flights, and if he can get on board then it's fairly easy to avoid the one or two passengers and crew. He has no idea that the flight he's stowed away on is Tony Stark's private jet, and that it's only Tony himself on board.

At least not until he hears a disembodied voice speaking throughout the plane once they're in the air. It's JARVIS, not that he has any idea who that is.]

Sir, scans of the plane show that there's a man crouching in your cargo hold. I wasn't aware you were transporting any men today.

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[It's not been too long since that, three or four months at the most, and she's been focused on other things. She hasn't seen all the news, she doesn't realise that she's impersonating something that doesn't exist any more.]

Of course, Mr. Stark.

[She shoots him a winning smile and gestures to her car.]

If you'd get in, please?

[Tony gives her a bland smile in return, trying not to visibly tense as he slips into the back seat.]

So, do I need to debrief, or anything? Give you my schedule? Or do you already have that?

[He's just babbling now, running his mouth without thinking as his brain flies ahead on a completely different track.]

I already have it, please don't worry about a thing.

[She slides into the driver's seat and pulls out of the parking lot, the sound of the automatic locks clicking into place fairly loud.]

You know, you might have known my brother.

[Well that's always a good opener.]

Might I? I have to say, I think I'd remember someone looking like you.

He didn't look much like me.

[Her smile is sharper in the rearview mirror, edged like glass.]

He was really excited to meet you, you know?

Oh yeah? He an engineering fan?

[There's an edge of dryness to it that probably doesn't quite suit the game he's playing, but Tony's getting a little tired of how drawn out this is. Really, if people are going to threaten him, they should just get it over with. It's good manners.]

No, he was a soldier in the convoy that you had blown up.

[Not his fault, technically, he had been hurt pretty badly himself and taken prisoner. But she still blames him. Her smile is gone now, almost spitting her words out.]

You got a fancy suit, even more money and fame, and he got dead.

[She drags her composure back like a mask, making the next words so light and airy that she could have been discussing the weather rather than making a threat.]

I wouldn't call for that suit, by the way. Any incoming or outgoing transmissions will set off the bomb.

[There's a pause before Tony just slants a look at her out of the corners of his eyes. Out of all the things he could conceivably be blamed for, that seems just a little unfair, considering.]

Okay, your brother died and that sucks. But you realize he was a soldier, right? What were you gonna do if an IED got him?

[Possibly not the correct reaction to someone threatening him, but oh well.]

It didn't.

[Her hands are wound so tightly around the steering wheel that her knuckles are white.]

What happened was your fault, you and your need to arrogantly show off.

Or it was the fault of people actively trying to, you know, kill me.

[Stane's involvement is still heavily under wraps, more's the pity. He can have all the blame he wants.]

If you hadn't been showing off, taunting everyone with your weapons, they wouldn't have done that. And you came home a 'hero'.

[She spits out that word, she's not a fan of Iron Man.]

But you won't be a hero after today, you'll just be dead.

Uh huh.

[Tony does not sound particularly impressed. It's probably not the right tack to take with someone who clearly does not like him much, but he's having a hard time caring. She's got some sort of script in mind and Tony can't be bothered to follow it.]

And then what?

What do you mean 'and then what'?

[She's frowning, it's not going the way she thought it would. Why isn't he scared to die? She wanted to see him frightened, the way she imagined her brother must have been before he was killed.]

So say you kill me -- which hey, good job, people have been trying that for years -- then what? What do you do next?

[He's watching her out of the corners of his eyes now. In part because that's generally a good idea with someone trying to kill you, but he's also just curious to see how far this plan goes.]

[Her smile reaffirms itself as understanding dawns, bitter and bright and vicious.]

We die together, Tony Stark, there is no next.

[Oh, one of those. Well, so much for getting somewhere.]

If you say so. Seems like a waste, if you ask me.

Really? Because it seems like justice to me.

[She steps on the accelerator and heads towards the outskirts of town.]

[He tips his head slightly to give her an almost curious look.]

You really want to die?

[Her lips purse, and she nods.]

To kill you, I'd die a hundred times over.

Well, it's good to have goals.

[This conversation thing is clearly getting them nowhere, so he just leans back in his seat. She'd mentioned something about a bomb, but she also clearly has a destination in mind, so he might as well see this through.

It's not like the armor isn't already following them, anyway.]

[She's really annoyed that he doesn't seem more afraid, but she'll have to settle for killing him and that being her reward.

The car swings off the road and up a short driveway, into what looks like a very old abandoned air hanger with high windows and reinforced steel walls. She presses a button and the doors begin to close.]

This is our stop, Mr. Stark.

[Tony glances around with a decidedly wry expression.]

The full supervillain, nice. I'd hate to think that we weren't doing things properly.

I'm not the villain here, and you can bet that most people won't remem--

[Her words cut off in a sudden and violent spray of blood as the car window explodes and her head with it, bits of skull fragment and brain matter splattering on the windshield, a bullet lodging in the headrest of her seat.]

[Even as inured to that kind of thing as Tony is, he can't help but start at the suddenness of it. He eyes the mess of the driver's sear, slightly wide-eyed, then slowly lets himself out of the car to stare off towards where the shot had come from.

And a second later, something flies through the air towards him, one gauntlet wrapping around his hand to be ready for -- whatever this new insanity is.]

[The top window of the warehouse, already broken with the bullet and then gauntlet coming through it, smashes clean through as Bucky enters the building and lands in a wary crouch.

He's wearing a half mask, goggles, and tactical gear; nothing like the hoodie and jeans he had on when he was on Stark's plane. He doesn't speak yet, just eyes Stark and his gauntlet cautiously, ignoring the mess of what used to be a human being in the car.]

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cw: gross blood stuff

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