Chapter 1520: 19
Chapter 19Summary:
A conversation between father and son clears the air a little.
The first appearance of the Iron Man suit and Rhodey gets his War Machine back.
Steve Rogers and his future.
Bucky reminisces about Steve and his shield.
Chapter Text
September 12th 2001
"Do you think Dr Stark could help?" Coulson asked.
"How?" Nick Fury demanded. "He makes weapons not defensive gear."
"That Stark senior, Sir." Coulson corrected. "Howard makes the weapons, while his son, Tony, makes protective equipment. But I was actually thinking of his skill in telecommunications."
"How does telecommunications equate to a search and rescue mission?" Fury frowned.
"Not so much equate, but maybe he could build something that could make the search easier." Coulson suggested.
"Not yet." Fury grunted. "Howard's been removing himself from Shield since we first found the infestation, I don't want to drag him back, if I can avoid it, he sees too much."
"I've heard the son is worse." Coulson warned. "Although, when I met him, he seemed quite reasonable."
"Reasonable or reasonable for a Stark?" Fury asked.
~~~
December 4th 2001
"Hey, dad. How's it going?" Tony asked when JARVIS connected his father's video-call.
"Been better, son." Howard sounded tired. "Fury's angling for me to do something, only he isn't saying what, yet."
"Sounds like the pirate." Tony snorted.
"Something was mentioned… though not by Fury." Howard muttered the second part. "Coulson? I think he's Fury's assistant."
"Not sure of his ranking but it's pretty high." Tony said. "He became Director after the first Snap."
"Is he a good man… or is he more like Fury?" Howard asked.
"Nah, he's good. And unlike Fury, Agent Agent is all about the worldwide good, not just America's. What'd he say?"
"It was just a single comment but when you take into account what you and your team have done…? It was telling." Howard huffed. "He said they were looking to set up a search and retrieval sub-department, partially under medical, but also under transport and op-sec and were looking for a system for identifying hidden objects and people."
"They're going to go looking for Steve." Tony said.
"It certainly sounds like it." Howard agreed. "I said that electronics weren't my specialty and that they should speak to you about it."
"Well, we'll see what they do." Tony sighed. "Oh, and we're moving back to the city. Within the next month, hopefully."
"Where are you going to stay?"
"We're in the process of buying some buildings in Brooklyn. And we're opening a new factory at Hackensack, just south of the remains of the Droyer's Point Bridge. I'm going to split IT's products a bit. Electronics, including the cells, pads, drones, suits and scopes will move to Hackensack, while fabric orientated items will stay at Constable Hook."
"It'll be nice to have the twins closer." Howard smiled. "What about you and Pepper? Any thoughts on children, yet?"
Tony spluttered through the mouthful of coffee he'd just taken. "Jesus, dad! Don't do that! Give me a warning when you spring those types of conversations on me. I'm allergic to emotions."
"Uh-huh…" Howard grinned. "And…?"
Tony sighed. "And… children… Yes, we've talked about it. We're not sure how… Morgan was born in 2019. Do we wait until then? Or will she still be our firstborn?"
"Ah." Howard acknowledged the dilemma. "You can look at it in two ways, Tony. One, if she's going to be your firstborn, she'll be your firstborn, regardless of when. Or, two, if she's going to be born in 2019, there's nothing you can do to change it."
Tony looked at Howard. "So, you think we should just… what? Go ahead on the kiddie front?"
"I think you just let what's going to happen, happen." Howard said. "Look at your mother and I. We married in '54 and we expected that children would come, pretty much straight away. It didn't work out like that. Your mother had two miscarriages before Thanksgiving of '56 and then… nothing until we'd given up any hope. Then in '69, she got sick and it wasn't until she was nearly six months along and our usual doctor had retired, that a young Army medic began to ask questions and one of them was, if she was pregnant. A few tests later and we were in shock."
"Me?" Tony asked.
"You." Howard nodded. "We were… ecstatic. Overjoyed. Terrified." Tony nodded, he remembered that feeling well. "We were going to be parents and there was no way we were ready for that." He snorted. "Mind you… There was no way anyone was ready for you."
"A handful, was I?"
"And then some. You were always sneaking into my lab and getting into things that could so easily have hurt you." Howard shuddered. "I spent more time looking for you than I did on most projects for the DoD."
Tony smothered a laugh. "I know that feeling." He smiled. "Thanks, dad. That… that actually helped."
"Good, let's never talk of it, again." Howard looked relieved. "What are you going to do about Fury?"
"Nothing. Let him come to us, when he's ready. In the meantime…? Clint's looking to re-purchase the building he had in Brooklyn, at Clinton Hill, ironically enough. We listened to him go on and on about it, so we figured we should go and check it out, right? Well, Bucky and Darcy fell head over heels in love with a four-storey townhouse next door to his behemoth. And Steve took one look at the Brooklyn version of a painted lady, a few doors down, and was instantly asking us to put in an offer on the entire building. She's three storeys and split into three townhouses but he plans to open it back up with an art supplies shop and gallery, on the ground floor and the upper floors for his home."
"Oh, good Lord…" Howard shook his head.
"Yeah." Tony laughed. "So we ended up putting offers in on that and three other townhouses. One for Darcy and Bucky, one for Sam, Riley and Rhodey, when they're on leave, and one for Pep and I. Then there's another six-storey building between the house that Pep chose and Steve's lady, so we figured? What the heck, we need a city-based office, with lab space for me and a meeting space for the team. It's a massive thing, goes from Washington Ave, right across the block to Hall Street. Not exactly Stark Tower but I think we can work with it. If all else fails, we can rent out the apartments. Or demolish it to make a park."
Howard nodded. "It's always a good idea to have your lab separate from the house. I didn't and that's how you were always sneaking in."
"If I was anything like Morgan, I can imagine." Tony laughed.
"Hey? When are you introducing Steve to the DoD panel?"
"Tomorrow." Tony relied. "We wanted to distance it from the towers, a little, but still have it overwhelmed by them." He shrugged. "Initially, we'd thought just having the Army there, but having all four branches and the White House in the know is going to better, when the public figure it out."
"Drop by here and pick up a copy of my notes on reintegrating Barnes. That way, if the DoD want, they do all the paperwork and hand Steve everything in one go. But if they'd prefer to stay out of the civilian sector, I can get things moving."
"I'll get Happy to drop in for them, in a couple of hours." Tony countered. "We're meeting here… Officially, I'm showing them the first working prototype of the Iron Man suit."
"Happy's at the factory?"
"He is, Pep had a meeting with the PR people and he's doing her driving."
"Good. I'll get my notes ready." Howard started to turn away from the screen, before turning back. "Oh, and your mother wants us all to have Christmas up at the lake. What do you think?"
"Christmas up here's fine, dad. I'll tell the others and we can get something planned." Tony nodded and after a few more pleasantries, the pair disconnected and went back to whatever it was that they had been doing.
~~~
December 5th 2001
Tony revelled in the expressions of want on the faces of the ten men that made up the DoD panel. It was hilarious.
He let the suit's face panel lift and stomped over to the heavy log bench that would be his seat while wearing the Mk2 armour.
"Oh, good Lord above…" General Mitcham (USAF) and Admiral Pickering (USN) both whispered.
"Now you see why it has to be fitted to a pilot." Tony said, not as a question but as a clear statement.
"Yes." General Wordsworth (USRA) nodded.
"Have you… pilots, you said(?)… in mind?" Johnson (USN) asked.
"Sort of." Tony said. "I wanted to see what was involved in fitting it to someone else and to work out how to teach them to use is. So, I asked a friend." A second suit landed and its faceplate lifted. "Captain James Rhodes has been a close friend since before he joined the Air Force and he is on the shortlist provided to me by Generals Westbourne and Mitcham. I figured to sidestep a couple of interviews and see how he'd go."
"It's not easy." Rhodey shook his head. "These things weigh a ton."
"They weigh two-hundred and forty pounds, not a ton." Tony objected. "And they're designed to remain in a semi-vertical position." He leant forward and when he'd reached a tipping point, a pair of small thrusters kicked in and returned him to a more stable tilt.
"And what of getting in and out of the… suit…?" Westbourne (USAF) asked.
"I'm in the process of building an assembly/disassembly rig. It won't be for an individual suit but will instead recognise the components that make up each suit and will group them together based on colour and pattern codes." Tony answered. "It will retract the suit from around the pilot and replace it around a mannequin of the pilot."
"What about the unmanned suits?" General Simms (USMC) asked.
"They'll have a similar extraction rig, however, because those suits aren't fitted to a pilot, size will be the primary regulator for grouping their parts."
"Is that why you labelled them child, small adult and large adult?" General Harrison (USMC)
"Yeah, it makes the dispatch easier. No kids on site, no need to send child sized suits." Tony said.
"What about…?" The interrogation went on for another half hour before Tony asked for a break so that his crew could extract, he and Rhodey from the suits.
Tony and Rhodey spent another hour answering the panel's question before the DoD men were content with what they'd been told.
"Thank you, gentlemen." Mitcham said, closing the folder in front of himself. "Is there anything else we need to be aware of?"
"Actually, yes, there is." Tony grimaced slightly.
"Yes?" Harrison asked.
"You know how, every year SI and IT send a ship to the arctic…?" Tony trailed off.
"Looking for Captain Rogers?" Pickering replied.
"Yes…"
"Oh, my…" Simms gasped. "You didn't…?!"
"Ah, yeah, we did."
"My God, man, do you have any idea what that means?" Simms demanded.
"Yeah." Tony nodded.
Simms jerked "Hold on, a second." He held up a hand. "That was months ago."
"Simms?" Harrison asked, but was waved off by his colleague.
"It was." Tony agreed.
"So, why didn't you speak up sooner?"
"Remember what we told you about the thawing process?"
"Ah… not really…" Simms frowned.
"Oh, Lord…" Mitcham whispered, he'd finally realised what Tony was talking about.
"What?" Westbourne asked, looking from Tony to Simms to Mitcham and back.
"You weren't sure whether Sergeant Barnes would survi-" White House Aide Peter Armstrong started, only to cut himself off before he finished the sentence. What he's said, or was going to say, caught the attention of all ten DoD men and all of them connected it to what Tony was saying.
"Are you…?" Wordsworth stopped and drew in a steadying breath. "Are you saying you found Captain Rogers?"
"I am, yes." Tony answered clearly.
"And he was…?" Harrison whispered.
"Alive, yes."
"And you didn't tell anyone?" The other White House Aide, Matthew George, asked.
"No, we didn't."
"Might we ask why?" Westbourne inquired.
"Because he asked us not to." Tony said. "He wasn't in any condition to tolerate military protocol, either physically or psychologically. Or emotionally. The knowledge that he'd been frozen in ice for over fifty years, came as a bit of a shock."
"Ah." Westbourne nodded. "And now?"
"And now, Captain Rogers wants to get on with his life." Tony said. "That means reclaiming his identity."
"Yes…" Westbourne nodded, again. "And you need us to get that sorted."
"Dad and I could do it, but… Well, we want it all above board. So, you know, when it all comes out…"
"The Army and the White House can honestly say that we know and were the ones to return Captain Rogers' life to him." Milton guessed.
"Pretty much." Tony said.
"How is he? Physically?" Milton pressed.
Tony laughed. "Want to meet him?"
The ten men on the DoD panel all leant forward, eagerly.
"Yes, please." Mitcham answered for them all.
Tony didn't reply, but he did tap out a message on his ever-present cell-phone. A few seconds later, a door opened and out walked something that none of these men ever thought they would see, in the flesh.
Captain America and Bucky Barnes in full Howling Commando regalia, the shield on the Captain's arm, shining brightly in the afternoon sun.
"Gentlemen? I present you… Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes, of the Howling Commandos." Tony said calmly.
Steve and Bucky stopped beside Tony and both stood at attention and snapped off perfect salutes.
"Captain, Sergeant…" General Simms seemed to be the first to regain his composure. "At ease, gentlemen."
"Sir, yes, Sir." The two men stepped out into a Parade Rest position and kept their attention firmly on Simms.
"Gentlemen, please understand that this is something of a… shock to my colleagues and I. We were not aware for your… recovery, Captain." Simms said. "We understand that Sergeant Barnes has no desire to return to military service, outside of another Worldwide War. What of you Captain?"
"Sir…" Steve drew in a deep breath. "I'll be honest. The things that I saw, during the war were… horrid... The things I did, were just as bad. I don't want to do that again. Howard and Tony have been great, catching me up on the history of what's happened since I went into the ice. Warfare has progressed so far beyond what the training camps prepared us for. Bombs that can destroy entire cities, is so far from what we knew that I don't recognise it. Tony calls what we did, 'guerrilla warfare' and says that it not really all that common, now. That you only have specialist teams for that, now. Specialist teams that are highly trained in many different areas?"
"Yes, that's correct." Simms nodded.
"I've little training, Sir, on or off the field." Steve replied. "My rank of Captain was initially, only a stage name. At least until Azzano and the recovery of the 107th, that was when Colonel Phillips sent a request for promotion to Generals Eisenhower and Marshall. Mine was only a field promotion, it was expected that after the war, I would return to America and enter OCS."
"That is fairly standard, Captain." Simms agreed.
"I have little formal education. Yes, I completed High School and a year of Art School, but nothing that would benefit the United States Army, as it is today. And if I were to be re-enlisted and attend OCS, I would be so far out of touch with the other cadets that it would be laughable. I believe that it would be best to release me from service and allow me to return to civilian life, Sir."
"Do you think you could assimilate back into civilian life, Captain? Honestly?"
"I don't know, Sir. But I do know that if I were to stay in the Army, I wouldn't cope with the changes. They're just too significant." Steve drew in a shuddering breath. "At least in civilian life, I would have contact with Bucky… Sergeant Barnes, who's recently done the same. With Howard, who was my friend, with Tony, who's spending a massive amount of time and money ensuring that I have the best resources available, to help me, to re-educate me."
"That sounds smart. Starks tend to be rather good at that." Simms said. "If we were to release you from service, what would you do?"
"Before Project Rebirth, I was an artist, not just because it was all my health would allow, but also because I was good at it. Painting, drawing, quick sketches, posters, etc. that was how I made a living. I always wanted my own shop, somewhere I could sell supplies as well as completed works. And… Tony and Bucky… they're encouraging me to speak to a… counsellor… I think they called it? Someone that can help me understand what I saw and teach me how to accept it and not let it drag me into shellshock." Steve deliberately used the outdated term.
"That's probably a good idea." Simms nodded. "If you can get someone with the appropriate clearance."
"I've had a few session with someone that worked for the VA, but has since retired." What Steve said was technically correct, Sam had worked for the VA and after Steve and Nat turned up on this doorstep asking for help, he had retired from hosting counselling session for anyone outside the Avengers. "They were… I'd like to do that… Maybe for vets. Or maybe for kids or people who have been… hurt. Maybe teach them how to defend themselves. Not like martial arts or that kind of thing, but street fighting, how to break out of holds, how to put someone on the ground long enough to get way from them, that sort of thing."
"And you know how to do that?" Westbourne asked.
"Yes, Sir. All of us Howlies taught what we knew, whether it was Morita's martial arts, Dum-dum's wrestling, Bucky's street-fighting or Falsworth and boxing."
"And what did you teach them?" Milton was the next person to speak and he caused Bucky to snort and clearly bite his lips to avoid laughing.
"Sergeant?" Simms asked, clearly curious.
"Ugh…" Steven grunted and Bucky couldn't stop the laugh this time.
"Steve's a punk. He knew more escape holds than the rest of us put together, that and his bloody shield." Bucky replied.
"The shield?" Milton asked.
"He flings that around like it's a discus, Sir. A discus that can stop a car or cut a tree in half. That and a pistol were all he had as weapons. He did more damage with the shield than he ever did with a gun. His aim's for shit."
Simms choked off a laugh at the insulted expressions on both Rogers' and Milton's faces.
"I see." Wordsworth nodded, biting his own lips. "Shields have little use in modern warfare."
"No, they don't." Steve agreed, modern warfare didn't describe what the Avengers did, not at all. "Neither do artists."
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