Series: “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong”
Pairing: Tony Stark/Justin Hammer x Fem!Reader
Summary: Seaville, Maine, 1991. The sudden death of Tony Stark’s parents forces him to return to the town he left behind when he went to study at MIT (Boston). With his arrival, all the memories he thought he had erased come back to him. The events of his last year of high school and that summer of 1988 appear to him as if they were ghosts from the past, forcing him to confront them and causing him to rethink his life.
Warnings: Death of parents. Funeral. Drunkenness.
A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.
Christmas 1991 (4th year at MIT)
Who would have thought that after leaving that small coastal town in the state of Maine and having promised himself never to set foot in that place again, he would have to return. On that December 17, 1991, the press and every other media outlet reported a devastating news story that had happened the night before, “Howard and Maria Stark die in a car accident on Seaville”. The impact of the news was far and wide, the country woke up the next morning to a headline that generated controversy about how it had happened and who would take over Howard Stark’s position at his company’s New York headquarters.
But none of that was relevant to Tony Stark’s mind, who barely uttered a word when Edwin Jarvis crashed the MIT Christmas party with a phone call to inform him of the event. Maybe it was the amount of alcohol in his blood, or the fact that he could barely hear his own thoughts under the infernal noise of techno music, but it took him a few minutes to react. Just a few hours ago a long discussion with his father over the phone had managed to infuriate him, the fact that he again decided to spend the holidays away from his family and did not choose to return to Seaville he knew that his father cared little, but any excuse was good to lash out at him, or at least Tony thought so.
The first thing that came to his mind as he reacted were the last words addressed to each of them, a clearly sarcastic discussion with his father and a feigned indifference towards his mother because of his anger, who was trying to calm the situation between the two of them. That was the last thing the three of them experienced and it would mark Tony Stark’s life forever.
The Stark family owned a multinational technology company that spread its power throughout the country, and Howard Stark had been in charge of it, as he was the one who ran it from its beginnings until his death. Few were the memories of Tony’s childhood in which his father was present, he was always travelling and when they met again during the holidays they barely spoke to each other, because whenever they did, a fight between them would come to light. That was how Tony had written off their relationship. But things were different with his mother, who always tried to mediate between them and cared about him. It was she who interceded when Howard wanted to send Tony to boarding school abroad, or when she wanted him to change his residence to New York.
As he remembered all those things, a pang of guilt came over young Tony Stark, but Jarvis’s words from the other end of the phone line brought him back to his senses.
“The funeral will be held first thing tomorrow morning, sir. You don’t have to worry about anything, it’s all set,” Tony who stood leaning against a door frame in the fraternity house nodded impassively. “A car will pick you up in two hours so you can get there on time, sir?”
“Thank you Jarvis,” he said deadpan just before he hung up the phone again and faced one of the hardest nights.
The apathy that can produce tragic situations in people can be somewhat frivolous, especially if you are one of those people who find it difficult to express your feelings. The drive from Boston to Seaville took about four hours, some roads were impassable due to the snowfall that had occurred during that winter period. The numerous phone calls he had received along the way, most of them about the future of the family business, added to his apathy. No one understood how he felt, let alone anyone else, and he was alone in the world with Jarvis.
He took in the closeness of the place as he gazed out to sea. Seaville was known for its beautiful sunsets overlooking Maine Bay, the town had a population of just eight thousand, but it maintained an unblemished reputation as a community of artists and sailors, a fact that added to the economic status of the region. Maria Stark, formerly Collins, was born there, and it was her affection for her roots that led her to settle there again when she became pregnant with Tony’s child. For a time Tony also shared her love of Seaville, but there were too many negative memories buried in the streets for him to return of his own free will.
When Tony saw the sign indicating the start of the Seaville settlement for the first time in four years, the knot that had been sitting in his stomach for hours increased its pressure, preventing him from barely breathing. He opted to keep his gaze fixed on a set of documentation about the company that Obadiah Stane had sent him before his departure from Boston, and tried to concentrate his thoughts on external things.
“Sir, we’re here,” the gentleness in Jarvis’ voice reassured Tony after pulling him out of his thoughts.
The words spoken by the young adult had been sparse, barely possessing more than one syllable. As he stepped out of the car he recognised the place, and it was just then that it crossed his mind that he wished anything could have stood in his way, just so he would not have come to this place.
The funeral had been arranged in the Seaville cemetery, a place on the top of a small hill surrounded by a wide grassy esplanade with birch trees. Jarvis stood by his side, waiting for him to take his first step to join him, but Tony’s limbs seemed to be locked at that very moment.
“Your mother always spoke of the peace of this place,” he commented, urging Tony to walk. “She would have wanted something intimate.”
The funeral had been arranged as quickly as possible to avoid the crowds and to keep the wishes his mother would have wanted. The last thing he expected was for them to turn his parents’ funeral into a public event and for any news channel or media outlet, national or international, to broadcast it like it was a bloody movie.
After Tony took the first step, the next two hours went quicker than he would have thought, Jarvis was right in his words, there was peace in the place and Tony found that out. It was fortunate for him that they arrived when most people were already there, it meant that for the moment he didn’t have to hear any comments lamenting the event from anyone present. So he just hid his gaze under a pair of sunglasses, avoiding eye contact with any grieving faces. He recognised many of those present, from employees of local businesses to some Stark Industries officials who had managed to arrive in time after hearing the news. Still, while he wanted to avoid bumping into anyone, he was hopeful of the presence of several people, who were probably not going to be there for external reasons. Either because they did not yet know the news or were not in town at the time.
With the reverend’s last words the coffins of his parents were lowered and buried several feet underground. Tony was unable to take on the role of offering a few words, he simply stood there quietly and received the condolences of several of those present. As they passed by one by one, Tony merely offered them a simple nod with his face, barely looking up. It was minutes later when Jarvis put his hand on his shoulder, awaiting their departure for the car, but Tony needed a moment.
“You can go to reception, Jarvis, I’ll stay a bit longer,” he informed her. “By the way, if you see that I haven’t arrived before I’m done, don’t worry, just go home.”
“Please, Jarvis,” she said without looking at him.
The funeral reception at the home of his youth would only foster an increase in his feelings of guilt, he would not be able to walk through that door and lock himself within those four walls, find out if everything was as he left it or if there had been any changes in the four years since he left for MIT, so he decided to let time pass.
He reached a point where the sun was setting, his mind hadn’t noticed the passage of time but he sat in that chair for three hours. He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed a presence behind him until the person approached the graves and dropped a small bunch of daisies on the freshly scattered sand, a fact that made Tony wipe away his tears quickly.
Tony stood up while being grateful for the change in his body’s posture, his watery eyes didn’t allow him to recognise the figure at first, but after blinking a couple of times he realised that his brain wasn’t playing tricks on him. It was you. You didn’t hesitate to approach him and put your arms around his shoulders, causing Tony’s body to become paralysed. His wits had been switched off for hours, as had his mind, but that moment brought his senses back to life. Your scent, your warmth, your body contact, your eyes, and hearing your breath so close again turned his broken heart.
“I…” began Tony in a whisper.
“Don’t say anything,” you cut him off without breaking the embrace.
After a minute you opted to pull away, seeking eye contact with him, which was prevented by Tony’s sunglasses, so without giving up you reached up to them and slowly took them off, noticing that under them those hazel eyes were still present, slightly reddened.
“There you are,” you said with a wistful smile.
Tony hated himself for not being able to cope properly with the moment that was unfolding before him. But he accepted that you of all people knew his limitations when it came to expressing feelings, whether they were positive or negative. It was true, you knew, so having enjoyed seeing that under that suit and his new appearance he was still the same Tony Stark you knew, you put his glasses back in place.
“I guess you’ll be wishing you were alone,” you said, lowering your gaze. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
You offered him one last smile, which almost took Tony’s breath away and, just as you had reached him, you turned around to continue on your way.
Unlike the funeral, the news seemed to have already been published in most of the sensationalist media in the country, so the funeral reception at the Stark house welcomed more than two hundred people who wanted to give their condolences, but those condolences never reached Tony, as he hardly appeared there. It wasn’t until after half past ten at night, with the moon showing its clear figure in the sky, that he came face to face with his past.
Jarvis had taken it upon himself to collect every bit of food and flowers that the guests had brought with them, a gesture that Tony was grateful for, for now he only had to face his past memories and not the present situation. As he entered the hall and walked into the living room he realised that it was a vivid image of his childhood, the mantelpiece displayed before him filled with Christmas decorations, a large tree full of ornaments, most of them homemade, made by his mother, garlands draped around the mantelpiece and Christmas boots. That was a shock. After clicking her tongue, she opted to walk away in the direction of the kitchen, the knot in her stomach having mingled with roars informing her that she’d better eat something if she didn’t want to pass out. Jarvis had been considerate enough to save some leftovers from the reception, so he grabbed the plate of larded meat and headed off to face the floor above. The night was going to be a long one.
After climbing the wide marble stairs he discovered a closed door at the end of the corridor, with a sign reading “Genius at work”, those three words provided perhaps the first smile in hours. He walked towards it with a series of doubts in his gut, but eager to know what he would find behind it. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, the first thing his senses picked up was a deep musty smell, the gloom was still there, but soft rays from the moon coming through the window made him resemble each of the furniture and objects there.
Before him time had not passed, his large room filled with gadgets on every shelf and desk remained just as he had left it before he left for MIT in the summer of 1988. He placed the plate on the bedside table and slipped his hands into his pockets, walking around the room. His outward calmness was extreme, though inside he seemed to be distressed and nostalgic. A crunching sound under the soles of his shoes made him realise that several screws and pieces of metal were lying on the carpet. Everything was as messy as he left it, even that robot he had made for his last academic year in high school was in pieces on the desk.
“Idiot,” she said, glaring at him.
It was at that very moment that it dawned on him how exhaustion, both mental and physical, was consuming them. Tony flopped face down on his bed with his eyes closed, letting the fragrance of his sheets envelop his senses. Every aspect of his surroundings seemed to take him back to his high school years, so he struggled to keep it from happening, opening his eyes again and recomposing himself on the mattress. He slowly surveyed every nook and cranny of his bedroom again, until he let his gaze linger on a wooden box next to a trophy from the state’s Artificial Intelligence contest.
“Shit…” he muttered to himself.
He knew its contents, he knew that it was perhaps the most dangerous thing to be found in those four walls, he knew that it was possibly the thing that was going to destabilise him emotionally, but he had to get his hands on it again and open it. So he jumped towards that shelf and took the box in his hands, opening the lid and making all the contents scattered on his bed.
Dozens of photographs practically flew out of the box and landed on the bedspread, each one showing a unique moment in Tony’s life, the curious thing is that in the vast majority of them you were present, and when you weren’t, it was you who had taken them. On the white borders were written different words, in your handwriting, leaving a record of when and where they were taken. “Steve’s seventeenth birthday”, “First game of the 1987 season”, “Christmas 1985”, “First day of high school Steve, Murph, Nat and Tony” “Graduation day”, “Murph trying to fish with Nat”, “Murph’s eighteenth birthday”, “Beach party”, “Murph driving to Portland”, “Murph roasting clouds”, “Murph…”
A clattering noise pulled Tony out of the halo of longing he had become, that damn automatic mobile phone that was impossible to break away from as it was the only thing that connected him to his future, Stark Industries, began to ring. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but fleetingly disappeared as he wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket before picking up the phone.
“Hello?” he asked with his eyes closed and his head down.
One of the company’s senior managers was behind the phone line from New York, the discussion became heated, they were demanding his presence at the company’s New York headquarters as soon as possible. He had been receiving those calls ever since the tragic accident had reached the shareholders’ ears, the curious thing is that none of them were to inquire about his state of mind or even his state of mind, so that was how it pushed him over the edge, showing the hidden feelings he had inside.
“My parents are fucking dead and that’s all you care about?” he shouted into the phone. “Can’t you stop thinking about your own interests for once in your life?”
The device landed against the headboard of his bed, the funny thing is that even so the voice of the major shareholder was still making its presence felt, to which Tony completely beside himself left the room and closed the door generating a deafening echo throughout the house. He knew he was not going to be quiet until he did what these people wanted, his freedom was gone, too many things were gone. From that moment on, he had become one of the most powerful men in the country overnight, and in the same way he had acquired numerous responsibilities that he was not yet ready to assume.
As he dropped in the middle of the stairs, hiding his face with his hands, a strong headache came over him, an accumulation of sensations and feelings prevented him from reacting to calm down, it was then that after a few minutes he went downstairs quickly, heading towards his father’s cupboard in the office. During his youth he had approached that cupboard too many times, usually full of alcoholic beverages, but when he went to open it, he was shocked to find it completely empty. He hoped that the location of those bottles had changed to somewhere else, so Tony opted to quickly rummage through any place he could think of where there might be a bottle, but his search was in vain.
“Shit!” he slapped his hand on the kitchen counter. “Shit, shit, shit!”
Almost unconsciously he headed back to his father’s office and opened the top desk drawer, where he found a box with a combination, oddly enough the one from his birthday, inside was a collection of keys, he pulled out the one to his red porsche.
He knew and acknowledged that the state of nerves he was in was not the best to get behind the wheel, but he was really desperate, and there was no one to slow him down at that moment. He drove to the first place that came to his mind, as there were not really too many choices in that coastal town that could be found open at that time of night. On the side of Maine Bay, near Seaville harbour, was the Captain Lou’s, a perfect place to go for a fresh fish dinner or after-dinner drinks.
He was driving at such high speeds that it took him barely five minutes to pull into the car park, braking so aggressively that he left wheel marks on the road. He got out of the car still wearing his funeral clothes, with his hair completely dishevelled and hiding his eyes under his sunglasses. The place was a fisherman’s house situated on an old pier, there was a small porch before entering where a small bell rang as Tony opened the door, he instantly recognised old Lou behind the bar, who was still holding his place as usual. He looked around, taking off his sunglasses for the first time, leaving his brown eyes completely swollen and reddened, which would make an impression on anyone who saw him, but Tony didn’t really care at the moment. Still, he was grateful that the place wasn’t too rowdy, just two small groups of adults and a couple at a far table. The bar was completely empty, so he took a seat at it, when Lou approached he was a bit perplexed by his presence, but he chose to take it as a matter of course.
“Sorry about your parents Tony,” he said wiping the bar right in front of him.
“Give me two of the strongest you’ve got,” he said ignoring her comment.
Just as Lou had poured him two glasses of whiskey, Tony digested them seconds later, informing him to refill them. Tony knew what he wanted, a night to forget, perhaps in the worst place to forget, as it was all memories. While he waited for a refill, as Lou was hesitating, Tony turned his gaze to the far table where the couple were having a drink, since he had entered there was something strange on that table, he thought he had seen someone familiar, he squinted his eyes hoping to sharpen his sense of sight, which was quite impaired at the moment, but it dawned on him. It was you, again, with an unknown boy whose face he couldn’t see, as his back was to Tony. Without taking his eyes off you, he quickly gulped down the two glasses of whiskey Lou had poured for him.
“Put the bottle down,” he said without paying attention to Lou.
The minutes passed, he was hesitant, irritated, distressed and completely broken inside by the accumulation of situations he had experienced in less than a day, and now he found you there, listening to your laughter, with an unknown guy. It was really the last thing he needed to end the day. The alcoholic solution was slowly affecting his senses, he had barely eaten all day, his only intake had just been four glasses of whiskey and that increased his feeling of drunkenness, along with all his negative emotions. As if something inside him was guiding him to you, Tony picked up the bottle of whiskey, which Lou had definitely been forced to leave on the bar, and staggered up from the stool. His jaw completely rigid, he walked as if an external force was pushing him from side to side, until he reached your table. You could hardly believe your eyes, the same thing happened to Tony, he could hardly believe you were there, next to him, and what hurt him the most was that you hadn’t stopped laughing since he practically walked in. That generated the rage that joined with his sarcasm coming out.
“Tony…” you whispered, causing your companion to look up at him.
“Wow! But who do we have here?” a hysterical laugh came from within you. “The prodigious Justin Hammer. Wow… I didn’t see you at my parents’ funeral, how strange, with how fond you were of my father… I thought I’d see you around.”
Yes, your escort that night was Justin Hammer, the cherry on top to make him remember Tony.
“Ah, no, that all that love was just because you wanted to get a good position at Stark Industries,” Tony dropped his hand on Justin’s shoulder and approached him. “Bingo! Now I’m the CEO, are you going to lick my ass like my father too?” the Stark sarcasm was again booming.
Your gaze flicked between Tony and Justin, who kept a straight face, keeping his composure in the situation. Tony took a small swig from the bottle he held firmly in his right hand, he could barely see your faces as his mind was affected in multiple ways.
“Oh, sorry for the interruption by the way,” a burp came from inside him. “Was that a date? Are you two dating?” Tony arched an eyebrow pointing at you respectively. “Oh man, I see you didn’t get a position at my company, but you hit the jackpot,” he began to laugh. “Hey! I’m glad, you two make a cute couple. Yeah! I mean it, you’re perfect for each other.”
Tony’s bitter words came out under your serious and sorrowful gaze.
“Mind you, I have to warn you that in bed…” he began, but you instantly got up from your chair and grabbed his shoulders.
“Alright Tony, I think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight,” you gripped the bottle tightly, in a failed attempt to take it from him.
Tony’s impediment to having the bottle taken from him caused him to stumble into the table behind him, causing him to lose his balance, to which Justin Hammer quickly got up to try and hold him down.
“Don’t even think about touching me,” Tony said in a somewhat aggressive tone with a scowl.
“Tony…” you pleaded holding him by the arm.
The plea that came from between your lips made him react before the situation reached a point where there was no turning back. Hearing his name and seeing your gaze, he felt as if a dagger was stabbing into his heart, another one.
“Yep… I’d better go. Show’s over here for today,” Tony said, putting on his jacket properly and stumbling towards the bar, leaving two hundred dollar notes behind. “Keep the change, Lou, I’ll take the bottle.”
Just as he had walked in, well, with a drunken state in his body, he walked out. The door closed behind him, to which Tony then made a difficult attempt to descend the stairs without holding onto the railing at the same time as he pulled the keys to the Porsche out of his back pocket. The five metres to the car seemed like an eternity trying to maintain a dignified posture as he fought against the spinning of his head, but it was just as he was about to open the driver’s door that a presence pulled him back.
“I’m not going to let you take the car in this state,” Tony smiled broadly with arrogance as he sensed your presence behind him. “I don’t want to go to another funeral tomorrow.”
“I think your date would love to attend.”
His mood was completely bipolar, a minute ago he might have been able to throw Hammer out the window, right now his arrogance was winning the day. Reluctantly you snatched the keys from his hands, heading for the passenger door while holding Tony by the arm.
“Just like that? Honey, I knew how much you loved my car and how much fun we had, but…” a half smile, his half smile that drove you so crazy, both in the positive and negative sense came across Tony’s face.
“Shut the fuck up, get in the car and let me take you home so I can sleep soundly tonight,” your voice sounded stiff and angry.
“Why don’t you stay?” whispered Tony in a poor attempt to show seduction, as his voice sounded drunk and gave off a strong smell of alcohol. “Although I can’t promise it’s going to be a quiet night.”
Your mood wasn’t prepared to put up with Tony’s nonsense, let alone in his state, so you pushed his head towards the inside of the car. From there, Tony could watch as you said goodbye to Justin, to whom you handed the bottle of Whiskey he had admirably taken from Tony without him even noticing, and then climbed in beside him.
“Tell me the truth, you and Justin Hammer?” the laughter of Tony flooded the place as you started the car. “How quickly you forget the hard knocks of the past.”
“You have no idea…” you whispered wryly to yourself.
“Honey, I think you can do better than that,” the arrogance was in his voice, which reminded you of times gone by.
You listened to his comments in silence, keeping your eyes on the road, avoiding getting into a stupid argument with someone who was drunk and barely able to cope with the many feelings he had.
“I recognise that look, you’re angry,” he continued, breaking the silence. “I know, I get it, I’ve ruined your date tonight. Although I must admit it didn’t look very stimulating from the outside, but I’m not one to judge.”
“I was quite surprised though, I thought that by now you and Steve… well you know, that you would be together, after everything that happened…” those words from Tony caused your right foot to stop dead in its tracks at that instant.
“After what happened?!” the disbelief was in your eyes. “Alright… Look Tony, you’re nobody to show up here after three and a half years of showing no signs of life and barge into other people’s lives to judge them. So shut your mouth and let me take you home quietly.”
Those words of Tony’s had struck a chord within you, your eyes became watery.
“You know I didn’t come back because I wanted to,” Tony said seriously. “But don’t worry, I’ll disappear from here tomorrow.”
“Great. It’s what you do best.”
Instantly you regretted what you had said. The ride to the Stark residence continued in silence, neither of us taking it upon ourselves to break it. Tony kept his head leaning against the window, eyes closed, head lolling slightly against the glass, but strangely he had found comfort in the position. As you walked into the garden you got out of the car without so much as a glance at her, slamming the door which was what seemed to wake him up and let him know you had reached your destination.
“You know where the phone is,” Tony reported, opening the car door and clumsily getting out.
It seemed like hours before he reached the front door, found the keys, managed to choose the right key, inserted it into the lock and opened it. In the kitchen the phone was waiting for you, you were lucky that there was a phone book and it didn’t take you long to find the number of the taxi service. In the meantime Tony dropped his body on the sofa.
“The taxi won’t be long, I’d better wait for it at the entrance,” you approached him.
“Great,” Tony said impassively.
The room was spinning around inside Tony’s head, he kept his eyes open and staring at the ceiling, it was funny, he thought, he used to get drunk regularly at college parties, but this seemed to have affected him as if he had never tasted alcohol before.
“You know,” Tony said without looking at you. “There was always the idea in the back of my mind that things could have been otherwise, if it hadn’t been for…”
“Don’t finish the sentence. Or you know you’ll regret saying it tomorrow,” you stopped your steps, as you were already heading to leave, and turned around to look at him. “Look, I don’t know what you want Tony. I don’t know what you want me to say, and I don’t know what you’re looking for by stirring up the past with your words. I understand it’s been a hard day, maybe the hardest day, and I can’t come to grips with what you might be going through,” you knelt down beside him. “If you need my help, I’ve told you before, you know where I am, but please let’s not make this night any more complicated,” your words were soft, so soft that Tony turned his gaze to you.
There you were again, on that couch, Tony lying down, you kneeling next to him, looking at each other, neither of you would have ever thought that scene could ever happen. Your words were tender, you felt vulnerable in front of him at that moment, and all he really needed was someone to show him affection, even though he didn’t know it.
“The last thing I want right now is to argue with you,” you whispered, ducking your face. “I’m sorry for yelling at you in the car earlier, and I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t want my last memory of you to be like that.”
It had been years since the two of you had been within such close distance of each other. Tony found that despite the haircut, your appearance had hardly changed. That mole under his left eye was still there, and the rosy cheeks you’d gotten from the cold still gave him a glimpse of the field of freckles that covered them. The small scar on your chin, which you got when you fell off your bike because he had thrown the football in your direction, was also there. A shudder came over you, causing you to quickly get up from that position and regain your composure, as a hundred memories seemed to come flooding back. Tony made an attempt to sit up, but at that moment the horn of a car saved the situation.
“Oh!” you looked at Tony and pointed to the front door. “I’d better go, I…. Goodnight Tony.”
“Goodnight…” mused Tony watching you leave.
Silence took over the house again after the front door closed following your departure. Tony stood there, staring at the emptiness you had left for the second time in him, thinking of a title for your whole story.
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
janainaart
areudirty
prguitarman