The air was heavy, thick with unspoken grief and impending confrontation.
Arthur silently turned the whiskey glass in his hand, his gaze distant. He had spent years meticulously weighing these words, yet now, facing Tony, he felt utterly unprepared to speak them.
Tony watched Arthur without blinking. He rarely saw him look this hesitant, outside of dealing with Natasha, perhaps. Seeing that same profound uncertainty directed at himself now, Tony felt his gut clench. He closed his eyes, swiftly reviewing every interaction they'd ever had.
He opened them and looked Arthur straight on.
"Listen. I call you an old man. I mock you mercilessly. But you know what we are to each other, right?" Tony paused, the words catching in his throat. "Ever since you first stole that nuke from my hand, hell, maybe since I heard your name from my father's lips, you've always been an anchor. Someone special."
Arthur looked at Tony, offering only a silent acknowledgment.
Tony found himself pacing, visibly uncomfortable. Some things were just impossible to articulate. He swung his arm out, then back, and finally downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. It was an uncharacteristic move; he preferred to savor a vintage, not choke it down. Every frantic motion betrayed his internal distress.
He took a deep breath, grit his teeth, and looked at Arthur.
"What I'm trying to say is, no matter what the hell you're about to drop on me, I still believe in you."
Arthur's nose stung slightly, and a wave of helplessness washed over him.
He knew. Maybe not completely, but well enough, what the kid felt toward him. Tony's mouth might be foul, but his loyalty was absolute. When Arthur had been missing, when he needed a defense, Tony had never hesitated. That kind of unwavering support reminded Arthur deeply of Howard.
Rubbing the corner of his eye, Arthur spoke quietly. "If Howard could see you now, he'd be proud. But, kid… what I have to tell you is the worst kind of news. The final decision will still be yours, though. No one can take that away."
"So what is it?" Tony asked, his voice sharp. "Tell me. I can't process this blind."
"The man who killed Howard and Maria… was a soldier. One of ours. A former comrade."
Arthur continued, his voice heavy with ancient history. "It was a time you can't truly understand. I won't burden you with the politics and personal ties of that era. I'll just say this, that man knew both me and Steve. During a mission, he was captured by Hydra. They broke him, brainwashed him, turned him into a weapon. When he didn't even know who he was anymore, they gave him an assignment: assassinate Howard Stark. And he carried it out."
Tony's rigid posture instantly collapsed. All the tension drained out of him, and he sank back into his chair as if gravity had suddenly quadrupled.
He rubbed his eyes lightly. "Why? Because he was your comrade? You wanted to protect him? So you just thought it was fine to hide this from me?"
Arthur shook his head. "I was waiting for the right moment. Believe me."
"This is your right moment? Our AI project is about to launch! I agreed to conditions I would never have agreed to in the past! God, I needed your approval before I went ahead with it! And all this time, you knew who killed my parents, and you never told me?"
Tony's voice cracked as he stared.
"Tell me, please, in your heart, what does your old friend's son really mean to you?"
Arthur met his gaze, unflinching. "What do you think?"
They held the gaze. A single, hot tear slid down Tony's cheek. The man in front of him, he really did see Tony as someone deeply important. Not just Howard's son. He was the one who took the nuclear missile instead of Tony, the man who had once died in his place.
"Sorry…" Tony covered his face with both hands. "I just… I couldn't accept it at first."
Arthur shook his head gently. "Let it out. Whatever the emotion is, let it be real. You don't need to perform for me."
"What kind of person is he?" Tony asked suddenly, lowering his hands. "You said… you said he was here once? Who is he? Do I know him?"
"The Winter Soldier," Arthur stated simply.
Tony's face went blank.
"I… I shook his hand," He whispered, the bewilderment quickly hardening into horrified disbelief. "That man, I shook his hand…"
Arthur watched him in silence. No words could calm this.
Timing. Damn the timing! Arthur had known from the beginning this was a hopelessly tangled mess. There was no 'right moment,' no 'best moment.' So, he simply chose now. He couldn't keep the secret any longer.
The Winter Soldier wasn't currently present, which at least gave Tony a buffer, a chance to make his final decision without acting on a sudden, murderous impulse. Whatever Tony finally decided, Arthur didn't have the right to interfere.
Who could stand in for the vengeance of a murdered father? There was no such moral trade in the world. Arthur couldn't even offer much in defense of the brainwashed man. All he could do was return Tony's right to know and give him the opportunity to choose his path calmly.
That was the only thing Arthur had left to give.
After a long silence, Tony suddenly stood, distraught, and walked toward the door. As he passed Arthur, he turned back, his expression shattered, and asked the question that hung in the air:
"If I kill him, will you be disappointed in me?"
Those words stirred a terrible, aching feeling in Arthur's chest.
He met Tony's gaze, his voice low and rock-solid. "He will return. Until then, you think. Think about everything. And if, after all your reflection, you decide the only path forward is to end him, then that is your final decision. He took your father. The right to vengeance belongs only to you, Tony. No one, not I, not anyone else, has the standing to stop you. No matter the reasons, the debt is yours."
(End of chapter)
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