Should he feel scared, being called a "loose end"? Almost definitely, but Tony doesn't. Well, for one, if Hydra wanted him dead, then he would be, but two, no matter what he felt-- feels-- about his parents, a part of him died in that car that day, regardless if he was there or not. Yinsen had said he was a man who had everything, and a man who had nothing, and he'd been right. Howard and Maria Stark were his only family. Kind of a shitty family, yeah, but family nonetheless. Tony's of course grateful he has Rhodey and Pepper, always has been and always will be, but...
(He can't think of an end to that sentence. Maybe there isn't one. Even the closest people to him feel like they're at least an arm's length away; The presence of them in Tony's life doesn't keep him from being depressingly alone in his ivory tower (at one time, metaphorically, but now maybe a little too literally.)
Tony smiles, but it's not kind. Maybe not mean, either, per se, nor is it mocking or anything like that. Tired. Frustrated, sure. At the end of his rope. Humorless. "Could seems to be the word of the day, doesn't it?"
He turns the book over in his hands, considering. Lets the crumbs of what the Soldier gave him really sink in, look at things from all angles. Tony's brain is always going a mile a minute, so it doesn't take him very long at all. It probably takes him longer to consider what he wants to say next.
(There's something there in the way the Soldier said, "this Steve," but it's not the most pressing issue. They'll get back to that. It's just another puzzle piece in the sea of them, but thankfully, Tony is pretty damn good at puzzles.)
"You don't think I know that? That I'm compromised, that is. Like I said, I'd happily let you on your way if I could. If I had a choice in the matter, I wouldn't touch any of this with a ten foot pole. I'm stuck with you just as much as you're stuck with me."
There was a time where Tony couldn't imagine anyone telling him what to do. (Well, barring Pepper and Rhodey, but that's different.) Oh, how things change. As he keeps flipping the book in the air by the spine, and then catching it, a thought does come up, unbidden.
What if that isn't how it has to be?
Ross would be beyond livid with him, but... Tony's the one here, right now, and the Solider is in his custody, not Ross'. And besides, Tony has standards-- the suffering of one doesn't equate to less than the suffering of the many. What's the point of signing the Accords, of making others sign it, if the Soldier has to suffer for it?
"Being emotionally compromised does have its benefits, though," Tony says, obviously ramping up for something. "You know what I could gain from this, what I might want to. Hell, you even said it yourself: I could order you to do anything."
"So let me ask you this, Soldier," He cocks his head to the side, the full force of his considering gaze turned onto the man his opposite strapped to the gurney, "why haven't I?"
Tony's not actually expecting a verbal answer, it's rhetorical and meant to get the Soldier thinking. Because it's a very fair point, isn't it? Tony knows why he hasn't, of course, but to someone in the Solider's situation, there's no reason for Tony to not have, not a single one. Maybe this is the key to building some modicum of trust between them.
"It would be easier, less of a hassle. There's no need to bluff about wanting to help if there's an assured method of compliance." Tony stands, but it's only to turn his chair around the proper way. "Nothing makes sense unless I'm telling the truth, right?"
He leans forward, elbows to knees, the hand with the book in it hanging limp between his legs. It's easy to feel the bitter anger abating somewhat, because Steve isn't here right now, it's Tony and the Solider. the Solider doesn't need his bitterness at Steve right now, especially not if he might not even remember him, currently.
"Believe me if you want, or don't. It's not going to matter, because I'll do you a solid, Solider-- I'll prove it to you."
(Ross would probably be screaming at him right about now, and the thought does make the corners of Tony's lips twitch up just slightly, without him even realizing it. Ross can, kindly, go suck a dick, though. If he wanted someone to follow things by the book, he shouldn't've asked Tony to do the job.)
"The only reason I haven't burned this thing yet is because I figured it was the only way to get you to take me seriously. That, and because the guy holding my leash right now would probably rip me a new one. Because what's a little more brainwashing to add to the pile? What's a little more when it's for "the greater good," when it might be the only shot we have at Steve signing the Accords?" With a humorless snort, Tony adds, "wouldn't be surprised if the U.S. government just wanted to hoard another "weapon" for themselves. Because clearly we can be trusted with it, while everyone else in the world can't. Nuclear bombs turned out so well for us."
(Tony will never really know what his father was thinking with that, but this isn't the time to critique the sins of the past.)
"But you know what, Barnes? Fuck that. You said there wasn't a choice, and I thought so too, but I'm not satisfied with that. So my choice is to give you one. I'm going to put your fate into your hands for the first time in seventy years."
Once upon a time, Tony enjoyed to gamble. That last game of craps right before he left for Afghanistan in the morning, and his life changed irrevocably, forever. This certainly is one, a gamble that is, but it doesn't feel like the wrong one. It's been awhile since Tony's flown too close to the sun, anyway.
Tony stands, and it's with intention now. "The book? It's yours to do what you want with it. Given how closely kept of a secret it is, I'm almost positive it's the only of its kind."
He tosses the book onto the Solider's legs. Next up is the real scary part, the kind that makes Tony's hand's shake.
Tony steps out of the suit. It's obvious, like this, how much height and bulk it gives him. The cut of his arms is unobstructed in his tank top, but it's nowhere near enough to fight the Solider off effectively. Maybe he's impressive for a regular human, but at the end of the day he's un-enhanced, plain and simple. Scary part, part two: he rucks his shirt up to expose the arc reactor to the Solider.
"Boss--" FRIDAY's worry is evident, even with her synthetic voice, but Tony waves her off. She doesn't protest further, almost like she's waiting with the AI equivalent of a bated breath.
"I've read it, so even destroying that book won't erase that. But I can give you my Achilles' heel, so at least we're even." There's a soft ping as Tony taps against the blueish glowing glass of the reactor. "So, hey-- this is what's keeping me alive. Neat little thing that's this whole incredible innovation, but that's not important. What it does, is keep the shrapnel in my chest from migrating to my heart. Before this, it was an electromagnet attached to a car battery."
It's not funny at all, but Tony laughs. Really, what else can you do, when talking about something horrifically traumatic that still haunts you to this day? Tony's always been the type to handle his own problems with way too much levity, anyway.
It's hard to doubt that he's telling the truth-- the reactor is clearly in his chest, and Tony's scars make it obvious what he's been through. Being blown up and riddled with shrapnel is pretty unmistakable (even among all the other scars he's gained as Iron Man.) He still pulls the thing out of his chest socket, though, shows it off for the Soldier to see. As he does so, Tony's Starkwatch starts beeping at him in that way it does when it can tell the reactor isn't in his body. Thats what Tony programmed it to do, but even if he didn't, it would because his pulse starts to drop and he edges closer to entering cardiac arrest. Snapping it back in gives him an immediate rush of relief, though he's never quite gotten used to the feel of magnetism pulling the shrapnel back up through flesh.
Tony's hands are still shaking a little when he starts to deftly undo the Solider's binds. He's pretty sure he's not about to die, so it's more adrenaline now, but you never know.
"What you do with that-- the book, my secret-- is up to you. I can't stand him right now, but if there's one thing I'll always love about what Steve taught me--" the last binding falls away, oddly impactful, "there's always a choice."
The loose thread is hanging in the Solider's face, now, ripe for the taking. Tony sitting back down really is when it all hits him-- what the hell is he doing?-- but at the very least, it's guilt off his shoulders. He's seen how inhumanly speedy the Solider is-- Tony wouldn't be able to get the words out fast enough (if he were the type to use them) before he'd be dismantled, then dead. Making it an even playing field. But it's also more than that-- he's no longer lording the Soldier's mental and bodily autonomy over him.
"If you're planning on trying to get your handler back and return to base, I can't let you go, in what's hopefully obvious given, the, y'know," he gestures at the Iron Man suit as way of explanation, "but otherwise, you know what? Fuck Ross, fuck his stupid plan. The Accords are important to me, but not so much that I'm going to make you suffer to get Steve to see reason."
He's Tony Stark. He can find another way, and he will. It's what he always does, it's his fucking job description to problem solve.
"Oh. And before you ask-- there's no point in getting revenge against you. That's like sentencing the gun to a murder trial. Finding out who pulled the trigger-- hmm, no, loaded the chamber, maybe is better-- and making them pay, will be much, much better."
Tony's not a saint-- of course he's still angry and bitter and hurt and every negative emotion under the sun about what the Soldier did to his parents. Maybe he never will stop being that, even if it lessens. Punishing the Solider when he was just made to do it, against his will, wouldn't rid Tony of that nor lessen it. And getting rid of the book hopefully means no other person-- the Solider included-- will suffer at the hands of it.
no subject
(He can't think of an end to that sentence. Maybe there isn't one. Even the closest people to him feel like they're at least an arm's length away; The presence of them in Tony's life doesn't keep him from being depressingly alone in his ivory tower (at one time, metaphorically, but now maybe a little too literally.)
Tony smiles, but it's not kind. Maybe not mean, either, per se, nor is it mocking or anything like that. Tired. Frustrated, sure. At the end of his rope. Humorless. "Could seems to be the word of the day, doesn't it?"
He turns the book over in his hands, considering. Lets the crumbs of what the Soldier gave him really sink in, look at things from all angles. Tony's brain is always going a mile a minute, so it doesn't take him very long at all. It probably takes him longer to consider what he wants to say next.
(There's something there in the way the Soldier said, "this Steve," but it's not the most pressing issue. They'll get back to that. It's just another puzzle piece in the sea of them, but thankfully, Tony is pretty damn good at puzzles.)
"You don't think I know that? That I'm compromised, that is. Like I said, I'd happily let you on your way if I could. If I had a choice in the matter, I wouldn't touch any of this with a ten foot pole. I'm stuck with you just as much as you're stuck with me."
There was a time where Tony couldn't imagine anyone telling him what to do. (Well, barring Pepper and Rhodey, but that's different.) Oh, how things change. As he keeps flipping the book in the air by the spine, and then catching it, a thought does come up, unbidden.
What if that isn't how it has to be?
Ross would be beyond livid with him, but... Tony's the one here, right now, and the Solider is in his custody, not Ross'. And besides, Tony has standards-- the suffering of one doesn't equate to less than the suffering of the many. What's the point of signing the Accords, of making others sign it, if the Soldier has to suffer for it?
"Being emotionally compromised does have its benefits, though," Tony says, obviously ramping up for something. "You know what I could gain from this, what I might want to. Hell, you even said it yourself: I could order you to do anything."
"So let me ask you this, Soldier," He cocks his head to the side, the full force of his considering gaze turned onto the man his opposite strapped to the gurney, "why haven't I?"
Tony's not actually expecting a verbal answer, it's rhetorical and meant to get the Soldier thinking. Because it's a very fair point, isn't it? Tony knows why he hasn't, of course, but to someone in the Solider's situation, there's no reason for Tony to not have, not a single one. Maybe this is the key to building some modicum of trust between them.
"It would be easier, less of a hassle. There's no need to bluff about wanting to help if there's an assured method of compliance." Tony stands, but it's only to turn his chair around the proper way. "Nothing makes sense unless I'm telling the truth, right?"
He leans forward, elbows to knees, the hand with the book in it hanging limp between his legs. It's easy to feel the bitter anger abating somewhat, because Steve isn't here right now, it's Tony and the Solider. the Solider doesn't need his bitterness at Steve right now, especially not if he might not even remember him, currently.
"Believe me if you want, or don't. It's not going to matter, because I'll do you a solid, Solider-- I'll prove it to you."
(Ross would probably be screaming at him right about now, and the thought does make the corners of Tony's lips twitch up just slightly, without him even realizing it. Ross can, kindly, go suck a dick, though. If he wanted someone to follow things by the book, he shouldn't've asked Tony to do the job.)
"The only reason I haven't burned this thing yet is because I figured it was the only way to get you to take me seriously. That, and because the guy holding my leash right now would probably rip me a new one. Because what's a little more brainwashing to add to the pile? What's a little more when it's for "the greater good," when it might be the only shot we have at Steve signing the Accords?" With a humorless snort, Tony adds, "wouldn't be surprised if the U.S. government just wanted to hoard another "weapon" for themselves. Because clearly we can be trusted with it, while everyone else in the world can't. Nuclear bombs turned out so well for us."
(Tony will never really know what his father was thinking with that, but this isn't the time to critique the sins of the past.)
"But you know what, Barnes? Fuck that. You said there wasn't a choice, and I thought so too, but I'm not satisfied with that. So my choice is to give you one. I'm going to put your fate into your hands for the first time in seventy years."
Once upon a time, Tony enjoyed to gamble. That last game of craps right before he left for Afghanistan in the morning, and his life changed irrevocably, forever. This certainly is one, a gamble that is, but it doesn't feel like the wrong one. It's been awhile since Tony's flown too close to the sun, anyway.
Tony stands, and it's with intention now. "The book? It's yours to do what you want with it. Given how closely kept of a secret it is, I'm almost positive it's the only of its kind."
He tosses the book onto the Solider's legs. Next up is the real scary part, the kind that makes Tony's hand's shake.
Tony steps out of the suit. It's obvious, like this, how much height and bulk it gives him. The cut of his arms is unobstructed in his tank top, but it's nowhere near enough to fight the Solider off effectively. Maybe he's impressive for a regular human, but at the end of the day he's un-enhanced, plain and simple. Scary part, part two: he rucks his shirt up to expose the arc reactor to the Solider.
"Boss--" FRIDAY's worry is evident, even with her synthetic voice, but Tony waves her off. She doesn't protest further, almost like she's waiting with the AI equivalent of a bated breath.
"I've read it, so even destroying that book won't erase that. But I can give you my Achilles' heel, so at least we're even." There's a soft ping as Tony taps against the blueish glowing glass of the reactor. "So, hey-- this is what's keeping me alive. Neat little thing that's this whole incredible innovation, but that's not important. What it does, is keep the shrapnel in my chest from migrating to my heart. Before this, it was an electromagnet attached to a car battery."
It's not funny at all, but Tony laughs. Really, what else can you do, when talking about something horrifically traumatic that still haunts you to this day? Tony's always been the type to handle his own problems with way too much levity, anyway.
It's hard to doubt that he's telling the truth-- the reactor is clearly in his chest, and Tony's scars make it obvious what he's been through. Being blown up and riddled with shrapnel is pretty unmistakable (even among all the other scars he's gained as Iron Man.) He still pulls the thing out of his chest socket, though, shows it off for the Soldier to see. As he does so, Tony's Starkwatch starts beeping at him in that way it does when it can tell the reactor isn't in his body. Thats what Tony programmed it to do, but even if he didn't, it would because his pulse starts to drop and he edges closer to entering cardiac arrest. Snapping it back in gives him an immediate rush of relief, though he's never quite gotten used to the feel of magnetism pulling the shrapnel back up through flesh.
Tony's hands are still shaking a little when he starts to deftly undo the Solider's binds. He's pretty sure he's not about to die, so it's more adrenaline now, but you never know.
"What you do with that-- the book, my secret-- is up to you. I can't stand him right now, but if there's one thing I'll always love about what Steve taught me--" the last binding falls away, oddly impactful, "there's always a choice."
The loose thread is hanging in the Solider's face, now, ripe for the taking. Tony sitting back down really is when it all hits him-- what the hell is he doing?-- but at the very least, it's guilt off his shoulders. He's seen how inhumanly speedy the Solider is-- Tony wouldn't be able to get the words out fast enough (if he were the type to use them) before he'd be dismantled, then dead. Making it an even playing field. But it's also more than that-- he's no longer lording the Soldier's mental and bodily autonomy over him.
"If you're planning on trying to get your handler back and return to base, I can't let you go, in what's hopefully obvious given, the, y'know," he gestures at the Iron Man suit as way of explanation, "but otherwise, you know what? Fuck Ross, fuck his stupid plan. The Accords are important to me, but not so much that I'm going to make you suffer to get Steve to see reason."
He's Tony Stark. He can find another way, and he will. It's what he always does, it's his fucking job description to problem solve.
"Oh. And before you ask-- there's no point in getting revenge against you. That's like sentencing the gun to a murder trial. Finding out who pulled the trigger-- hmm, no, loaded the chamber, maybe is better-- and making them pay, will be much, much better."
Tony's not a saint-- of course he's still angry and bitter and hurt and every negative emotion under the sun about what the Soldier did to his parents. Maybe he never will stop being that, even if it lessens. Punishing the Solider when he was just made to do it, against his will, wouldn't rid Tony of that nor lessen it. And getting rid of the book hopefully means no other person-- the Solider included-- will suffer at the hands of it.
"Your move, Sarge. The ball's in your court."