𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞

༻ ❁ ༺

May 25th

Monaco Custody Facility

          THE PRISON GUARD pulled the iron grated door open, leading Tony into a sparse and impenetrable room with bare walls. The room was colourless and lifeless. As he stepped inside the room alone, Tony allowed the door to fall shut behind him. 

Ivan Vanko sat on the bench with his broad back to the door, his shoulders were slightly hunched. He wore nothing but a pair of shorts that were more than likely standard prison issue, and in the dull light, Tony could just about make out the canvas of tattoos that were etched across his skin.

For a few long moments, there was silence as Tony stepped forward slowly, with his hands tucked deep into his pockets.

"Pretty decent tech. Cycles per second were pretty low. You could have done with doubling up on your rotations." Tony spoke as he approached Ivan's bench. "You focused the repulsor energy through ionized plasma channels. It's effective, but not very efficient. It's a passable knockoff."

Tony walked up to the bench and took a seat on the unoccupied end. "I don't get it," he pressed, "A little fine-tuning and you could have made a pretty solid paycheck. You could have sold it in North Korea, China, Iran or you could have even gone straight back to the black market."

Ivan, who had remained unmoving and quiet so far, had now turned his head and twisted his mouth into an amused smirk.

"You look like you've got friends in low places," Tony stated, looking steadily into Ivan's face in an attempt to read any flicker of emotion.

Then, at last, Ivan spoke. "You come from a family of thieves and butchers," he said softly, "and now, like all guilty men before you, would try and re-write your own history. And you forget all the lived the Stark family has destroyed."

"Speaking of thieves," Tony said, ignoring his statement; his eyes hardened. "Where did you get this design?" he asked, tilting his head curiously.

However, Ivan merely watched Tony intently. "My father, Anton Vanko."

"Well, I have never heard of him," Tony said dismissively, but it did not soften his gaze.

Ivan's eyes dropped to the hue of the Arc Reactor that was gently pulsing through the fabric of Tony's black shirt. "My father," he spoke. "is the reason you're alive."

"The reason I am alive is that you had a shot, you took it, and you missed," Tony said in retort.

"Did I?" Ivan keenly asked, his smirked flickered for existence. Tony did not reply.

"If you can make God bleed, then people will cease to believe in him," Ivan spoke, his voice remained low and toneless. "And there will be blood in the water, and the sharks will come," He leaned back, rolling his shoulders, visibly tensing his strong muscles. "The truth? All I have to do is sit here and watch as the world will consume you."

"Where will you be watching the world consume me from?" Tony asked, he was somewhat smug. "Oh, that's right. From inside a prison cell. I'll send you a bar of soap." Tony stood from his seat and turned his back on the older man.

"One more thing, before you leave," Ivan said, and Tony stopped in his tracks. "Palladium in the chest. That is a painful way to die," Ivan spoke methodically. "Your daughter is very young. How do you suppose she will handle your dying?"

Tony stiffened and rapped on the door twice, a signal to the guard to open the door. As the door closed behind him, the slow laugh of the deranged Russian could be heard lingering in the air.

༻ ❁ ༺

The Atlantic Ocean

Stark Private Jetplane

Charlotte slept soundly in a chair directly adjacent to the television. She was emotionally exhausted from what had happened in Monaco, and after clinging to her father, when they reached the private jet, she cried softly to sleep.

Pepper looked at her daughter, sighing when she saw that Charlotte had fallen asleep in front of the television where Senator Stern was currently speaking.

"It's just unbelievable. It proved that the genie is out of the bottle, and this man has no idea what he is doing. He thinks of the Iron Man weapons as a toy!"

Tony emerged behind her, in the doorway to the rear of the cabin, a small plate of food in his hands. When he saw what was on the television screen, he stopped.

"I was at the hearing," Stern continued. "where Mr. Stark, in fact, was adamant that these suits cannot exist anywhere else, they do not exist anywhere else, at least for five to ten years. And here we are in Monaco, realizing, uh-oh, these suits exist now."

"Mute," commanded Tony, and the television silenced itself dutifully. 

"The truth is that he should be giving me a medal," Tony said, advancing into the room and sitting across from his wife in the empty chair. Placing his plate on the joining side table, he sat perched on the edge of the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees. "She's still asleep." It was more of an observation than a question. Tony looked at his daughter, and for a second, it became more difficult for him to breathe. She looked so tiny, so delicate. Her eyes were swollen, and red from her tears. Remorse started to bubble inside him when he realized that he had done it to her.

"She fell asleep the second we left the runway," Pepper spoke softly. "What is that?" She nodded curiously towards the plate that sat beside him.

"This is your complimentary in-flight meal," he replied, picking the plate up and observing the contents. "There's some leftover for Charlie too, when she wakes up."

From the mixture of fruits and cheeses on his plate, Pepper looked back at Tony, "Did you just make that?" she asked jokingly.

"Yeah, where do you think I've been for three hours?" Tony retorted, looking proud of himself.

"Tony, honey," she began, staring at him straight in the face. "What are you not telling me?"

This was the moment Charlotte began to stir from her sleep. However, upon hear her parents voices, she pretended to be asleep. She knew that falling asleep would not be an option as soon as her mom had asked her question. Her back was turned to the both of them and Charlotte hoped that neither of them would notice her still tired eyes fluttering open.

Tony stared out the window next to him, turning his back. Then sun was setting, and its light sloped through the window, lightening and softening his dark hair while setting Pepper's deep gold hair ablaze. "I don't want to go home. At all." Tony said at length. "Let's cancel my birthday party. We're in Europe so let's go to Venice, Cipriani. We can take Charlie there. This is the first time she's been out of the country, and I don't want ruin that experience," his eyes fell upon his daughter's sleeping form, "Create good memories."

"I don't think this is the right time," Pepper told him, and her brow creased slightly in frustration, "We're kind of in a mess."

"Yeah, but maybe that's why its the best time," he spoke adamantly, "Cause then we could-"

"Well," Pepper interrupted sternly, "I think, as the CEO, I need to show up."

"You are entitled to leave," Tony folded his hands over his knee, leaning forward, "Not just as CEO, but as my wife," He looked up at her, cautiously, "there are no obligations."

Charlotte was worried about them, her dad didn't answer her mom's question, and now he didn't want to go back home. Why?

"I'm entitled to leave?" Pepper inquired, quipping her brow at her husband. She leaned forward to mirror his positions, taking his hands in hers. "What is going on with you, Tony?"

He didn't speak, he simply stared at their hands for a moment, watching as Pepper lightly intertwined her fingers with his. Ironically, in this gesture, their matching wedding bands rested side by side. "Nothing, I'm fine," he eventually whispered, pressing a long kiss to the tops of Pepper's fingers.

He breathed deeply, taking in the moment, her scent, for he simply did not know how much time he had left. Pepper had been by his side for the past sixteen years - three of those, as his assistant and the other thirteen as his wife. Everything they had built together, the company, their home, their daughter, everything was at risk of being wiped away at any moment because of his own invention.

It was inevitable, but Tony Stark was his own downfall.

"So, how about that leave? Call it a company retreat." Tony amended hastily, sitting upright and waving a hand somewhat dismissively.

"A retreat?" Pepper repeated, wanting to make sure she had heard him correctly. "During a time like this?"

"Well, I'm just saying, to recharge our batteries and figure it all out. Plus, Charlie has not had a chance to be a kid in such a long time. Not since the mess, I caused with Obadiah."

Pepper leaned back against her seat, and she spoke quietly, "Not everybody runs on batteries, Tony." Tony grimaced and looked away sadly. The aircraft glided through the evening sky, the air was heavy with all of the things that Tony could not tell her.

He heard a brief movement next to him and turning his head, he saw that Charlotte had rolled over in her sleep, (unknown to her parents, she had heard their entire conversation before ultimately falling back asleep). The left side of her body was in danger of sliding off the leather seat, so Tony gently scooped the girl into his arms, careful as not to jostle her. He lofted her into his lap, her head naturally falling against his shoulder and her legs rested on the vacant seat next to him.

In the current moment, he had the perfect opportunity to tell Pepper; with Charlotte seemingly asleep it gave him a chance to talk to his wife before breaking the news to their daughter. But he couldn't do it, and now he had to apologize to Charlotte for what she had experienced in Monaco.

For now, he wanted to remain in this moment-his wife sitting opposite him, her legs extended so they were gently pressed against his; their daughter curled peacefully against him, her breathing calm as his hand gently cupped her small one.

But even Tony knew that the moment could not last forever. Eventually he would be home, and it would be time to continue his charade of putting on appearances and celebrate what could very well be his final birthday.