37

Notes:

Chapter-specific warnings: the usual [unreliable narrator, not Team Cap friendly, uncomfortably-close-to-Skynet!JARVIS, dubious morality, mental health issues, canon-typical violence, profanity, etc.]. Special focus on the 'canon-typical violence, though: I mean, this is Siberia we're talking here. Also, delving into death of loved ones [hi, Stark family] and the impact of it. Anything feels like it hits close to home, tread carefully and decide if this is the chapter for you.

Also, a bit more profanity than usual, because Tony's been steadily running out of fucks to give this entire arc and is close to his breaking point.

Also also, some dubious legalese because I only have so much time to research and trying to balance international law with the MCU's version of comic book logic is...interesting, let's just leave it at that.

If I missed something I need to warn for, please let me know.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Tony wasn't ashamed to admit he slept for a good chunk of the flight. Hey, wasn't like there was much else to do: JARVIS had things well in hand as far as piloting went, Legal and SWORD were on the case in regards to the whole situation involving the Raft and Ross, and the tracker that had apparently been slipped onto Rogers' shield during the fight wasn't going anywhere. Not with the way Rogers carried the damn thing like a safety blanket. A very expensive and potentially hazardous and politically-charged one, to be sure, but then Rogers never did seem to do things by halves.

...he was going to murder Rogers with the paperwork. It'd serve the bastard right, for making this mess in the first place. Tony had tried to warn him, had tried to go 'hey, watch out for Ross' and what did he do? Go out and make himself a problem that was squarely in the man's jurisdiction, and somehow drag the Avengers and Tony into it.

As if Tony didn't already have enough bullshit to deal with. As if he hadn't just realized that he was probably the only one doing the work on this group project from hell, as far as protecting this planet went. As if he didn't have a goddamn company he owned and a department to manage and—

"Sir, my sensors register someone is following this plane." JARVIS cut in, and he rolled out of his makeshift cot with a frown. 

"Do they look hostile?" 

He had airspace permissions from a good chunk of the countries in the area, even if Russia was still on the fence about the whole Legion thing…

"Negative, sir. It appears you are merely being tailed. For now." 

Stealth tech good enough for JARVIS to not pick up on it for nearly three-fourths of the flight, with a vested interest in pursuing Rogers and Barnes.

Tony felt his headache nearly redouble as he ran down the list of suspects.

...but that could wait. They weren't trying to kill him, he'd probably find out when he finally landed.

"Right. Keep an eye on that, J, I'm going to try and take another nap."

More of a power nap than anything else, but he felt very tired at the prospect of what was to come. 

Siberia was...underwhelming at first glance. The vaguely ominous half-hidden bunker in the distance was the icing on the cake, really. 

As was the long walk to get there, with a silence broken only two sets of footsteps and yep, headache time via Wakandan nationals at six o'clock. 

"You followed me." Tony said with far more calm than he felt as he continued following JARVIS' directions.

"He needs to be brought to justice." Prince T'Challa replied simply, as if he wasn't insulting him to his face. 

"Oh, yeah? Get in line." Tony gave him an only slightly watered-down version of the smile he gave Ross, and despite everything felt his respect increase when the man didn't so much as blink. 

"Wakanda—" Prince T'Challa started, and Tony gritted his teeth and mentally chanted'he's an ally, not an enemy ' because dammit he was tired of being the only one in the room who bothered to do the reading.

His tone was still probably a tad too acerbic when he cut in. "Wakanda has no treaties regarding extradition. No jurisdiction anywhere outside of its borders. I do, it's why I was called in in the first place. I get you're pissed that Barnes put your old man in a coma, but this is—" 

JARVIS suddenly cut in. "Sir, I have reviewed camera footage. Facial recognition does not match for the Winter Soldier using the most recent data for Sgt. Barnes."" 

Tony froze in his tracks, and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the early Siberian evening already setting in. 

"Oh, son of a—"

Prince T'Challa looked over at him in concern. "What is it?"

"We've got the wrong guy for the bombing." 

Ugh. Tony could almost feel his wrist twinge in anticipation of the paperwork.

Shit, this meant Rogers wasn't just trying to cover for his buddy, meant that entire fiasco at the airport was a waste— wait, no. 

Rogers and Barnes still caused an international incident. Were still responsible for Bucharest and whatever the hell was the airport fight, still chose to fight rather than even try and work with them. 

These were just...two now-unrelated incidents, now. That Tony was responsible for cleaning up, because 'privatized world peace' wasn't something that was just for show and moments like these he almost wished he was more of an asshole because then he wouldn't already be making and discarding plans for reconstruction and politicking and he was getting off-topic again. 

Great.

Prince T'Challa stiffened. "Explain."

Normally, Tony would've reacted to the demand. Would've snarked, would've made a joke along the lines of "sure, your highness" or "you're not the boss of me", but. 

An innocent man's life was at stake. Everyone worth their salt knew that Wakanda didn't mess around, knew just what threat they posed. Knew that if they arrested someone, it was highly unlikely the outside world would ever see them again. Barnes' life had been at risk the moment that bomb had gone off, and now…

Well, on the one hand that was no longer on the table, was one less headache to deal with. On the other, the implications alone were horrifying.

If JARVIS hadn't rerun the footage, if he hadn't contacted them at that moment...Tony did not like Rogers, or the Avengers. Didn't know Barnes. But intentionally or not, he had nearly been complicit in the condemnation of someone who had been innocent of the crime he'd been accused, and that...did not sit well with him.

Tony tapped his headset and pulled out his phone. "JARVIS, mind putting it on speaker?" 

"Of course, sir."

His phone pulsed gold for a moment, and this time Tony let J explain the situation to their uninvited guest as he tried to process this latest development.

JARVIS helpfully brought up Barnes' security footage from the UN and past encounters, his own calculations, a cross-reference with the database used for the original match. The implications mostly spoke for themselves, but JARVIS every-so-helpfully brought up the unlikelihood of Barnes coming to light by coincidence, as well as the drugged psychiatrist recently found in a German hotel room. The one who was supposed to have been the man called in by the UN for diagnosing Barnes, back at the JCTC.

Tony stared at that last tidbit, and rubbed his temples to stave off the impending migraine because this could not be happening.

"Well, clearly Barnes isn't your man." Tony managed after JARVIS finished his report, and felt disproportionately pleased at the face Prince T'Challa made, before raising a hand to nurse his own headache. [Good, he wasn't the only one suffering through all this bullshit.] 

Finally, the prince gave a slow nod. "I will...let you take point. I need to reassess the situation."

At that, Tony couldn't help but snort. Ha. 'Let.' 

But hey, at least something was going his way. [For once.]

Helmut Zemo smirked at the camera feeds, even as part of him was slightly disquieted by how close his ruse had nearly fallen apart. He had given himself a measure of leeway insofar as to when things would inevitably come crashing down, but this was cutting it far too close for comfort. Had Stark still remained on the plane when his AI had finished running the calculations, Siberia could have never— well. 

No matter, Zemo did not deal with hypotheticals. What was done was done, the stage was set, and everything was finally in place for the final act. [Then he could finally rest.]

Showtime.

Tony forced yet another door open, and checked for any signs of life. Again.

This place was a damn maze, the thick walls didn't help any when trying to check for signs of life, and even if everything looked abandoned he didn't trust it to not be teeming with hostiles the moment his back was turned. It was just that kind of day.

At long last, however, he finally wrenched open a door and lo and behold, he found the two idiots responsible for his biggest headache. 

Finally.

Sure, they were pointing machine guns and that damn shield at him, but hey. At least he found them.

"You two look defensive." Tony remarked. Then, moving carefully to approach them, he continued. "Do you have any idea just how much of a headache you gave me when you could've just said 'hey we need help'?"

Rogers looked at him warily. "Would you have listened?"

Tony smiled behind his faceplate. "I don't know, would I? It's not like we've never worked before— oh, wait."

Then he turned his head to look at Barnes, who still had his gun pointed at him [as if it'd do anything more than ding his paint job]. "At ease, Soldier. I'm not after you for—"

Rogers cut in. "Then why are you here?"

...Tony wasn't even going to touch that. [Also, rude.]

"Excuse you, I wasn't finished." He snapped, then continued with his original train of thought.. "Gee, it's almost like saying 'hey my friend's been framed' would've actually prevented this entire mess. Now come on. Time to face the music, even if your buddy there isn't the guy we want you two still caused an international incident."

At their dubious looks, Tony scowled. "Do either of you have any idea how much paperwork you've caused? Now come on, before we get another country out for your guys' blood."

Still nothing, though at least Barnes relaxed and pointed his gun away. "I'm not the only one."

Oh, please no more dramatic bombshells.

But because he hated himself, Tony couldn't help but ask. "Only what?"

"The only Winter Soldier. The rest are here."

For fuck's sake. 

Tony gritted his teeth, and took a deep breath.

[Well. At least they were working with him now. Hey, they might even be able to use this to reduce their list of charges.]

"Lead the way," he told the super soldier duo. 

Then, as they started walking again, he muttered to JARVIS, "J? Run a systems check on the suit's AC. I don't think it's working."

Things come to a head when they reach the creepiest room in the damn place. [Of course. What else is new.]

Tony would've had uncharitable thoughts about the apparent criminal mastermind behind this entire mess regardless [So. Much. Paperwork.], but it's only when he sees the rest of the plan unfold that he can fully appreciate the scope of it. Of how one man's machinations had successfully crafted an almost perfect no-win scenario, had brought the Avengers to their knees.

It was impressive. And terrifying, and completely unnecessary because this type of plan was one he honestly would've expected of Ross rather than some guy and sure Tony wasn't exactly a fan of the Avengers but this was on another level. And...for what? 

So many people hurt, because of one asshole's twisted revenge fantasy [again], when all he would've needed to do was wait for the team to fuck up [again]? What a waste.

And then a monitor turns on and—

"I know that road." Tony hears himself say distantly, blood running cold.

How could he not? When he'd spent hour after agonized hour imagining it, after the police had said the footage had been corrupted. When he'd driven out and just— stared, years after the fact, because he hadn't been able to sleep. When he knew every line of the accident report by heart, had gone over his last memories of his parents more times than he could count?

It'd taken months and years and decades for their deaths to be more than a raw wound. For him to come to terms with everything, make his peace with the way his father's alcoholism had cost him his mother's life. 

...and sometimes the old grief would sneak up on him even now, half a lifetime later. Tony hadn't intended to keep count, but...it'd just hit him again, a few weeks ago: he was now older than his mom would ever be. 

It had been painful back when it'd first happened, when he'd had to put on a brave face act like everything was fine in front of the cameras when in reality he had barely been able to touch coffee because he and his mom had preferred the same blend. 

It was painful now, for a different reason. Time and distance had given him some semblance of closure over Howard [even though that 'you were my greatest creation' clip was bullshit on a number of levels], but...his mom had always been a major figure in his life. Had done her best to raise him, had taught him everything he knew about masks and playing the game in front of cameras even when his world was crashing down around him. Always had a smile on her face and a warm hug when he'd needed one. Had set guidelines he'd built his life around, and helped instill a set of morals that would later be called 'naive' by Obadiah Stane because of how uncompromising they were.

Tony was older than she'd ever be.

Her death been painful when he was younger. Now, it was both an austere sort of grief and yet a raw sort of agony, because his mom had seemed very put-together and composed as a kid but now he could clearly see how she'd been struggling with Howard's neglect and alcoholism and an already-imploding child prodigy and a world that was just waiting to pick at the slightest crack. 

Tony was older than she'd ever be. 

The realization had been when the latest wave of grief had hit him. Because right now, he was at a stage in his life where he was struggling to keep it all together, trying to do four different jobs [and failing miserably at each] and this mentorship thing with Peter had given him a taste of the panic that came with 'oh shit here's this innocent kid who's counting on me, the walking tire fire' and thinking about what his legacy was. 

He still had a lot to do [a planet to protect, an entire world counting on him], a long road he had yet to walk. But it really put things into perspective, when he'd checked a calendar for some paperwork he'd needed to do and that last reminder had slotted into place with a quiet pang.

So when he sees that road— sees that road, and realizes just what he's seeing, Tony feels cold.

Feels cold, and numb, as he sees an impossibility. Sees security camera footage that should not exist, sees—

Sees that one of the defining moments of his childhood was a lie.

He couldn't look away. Even though he felt dawning horror and nausea at the sight, Tony just...couldn't tear his eyes from the sight of the Winter Soldier murdering his parents, hear their pleas and last words and oh gods his mom—

Tony hadn't eaten anything in hours, but he still comes dangerously close to losing his last meal when he sees his mom die, before the screen finally darkens and he's left in a room where the only sound is his attempts to stave off the start of a panic attack. 

Then Tony makes the mistake of looking towards Rogers.

Rogers, who looks mournful but unsurprised at having seen his old friend's death on camera. Rogers, who glanced at him and immediately stepped in front of [his mom's murderer oh gods—] him and suddenly Tony can feel dawning suspicion and the start of an incandescent sort of fury because Rogers had already rained hell trying to cover for his friend but...no.

No, it couldn't be. 

"Did you know?" Tony asks softly between deep breaths as he desperately tries to cling to his bearings. The cold has been replaced by a strange sort of warmth, one that increased with every breath he takes [like bellows to an open flame]. 

If Rogers had...this changed everything. Cast everything he knew about the man in a new light, but...it couldn't be.

He wasn't close to Rogers, but. This was something else.

"Tony." Rogers tried to plead, but the note in his voice told him everything he needed to know even if the first name hadn't been enough of a clue.

"You knew." 

"I suspected— I didn't know it was him."

Deep breaths. Deep breaths, and over the roaring in his ears Tony can faintly hear JARVIS' concern in his headset: "Si— core temperature— Extremis activat— armor integrity compr—"

Oh.

That explained it.

"Armor off if it's in danger, J." He hears himself say, and takes another deep breath. 

Only this time, he thinks he can taste sparks in the back of his throat.

Rogers looked stunned as he stepped out of the suit. Tony didn't know why. [He didn't care.]

All he knew was, he wanted to punch the bastard that had been lying to his face for years, and the man who killed his mom.

Maybe, if Tony had been allowed to learn the truth of his parents' deaths under less stress, in a more controlled setting, he would have been able to deal. Would have been able to process it, would have been able to grieve quietly as he made his peace with it, and put the blame where it deserved to be. 

Here, however, Tony was put in the same room with their murderer after prolonged stress with only the last dregs of his patience, and informed of the matter in the worst way possible. 

Was it any surprise he snapped?

Tony felt very warm, now, outside the suit. Funny, that. 

"Get out of here!" Rogers called over his shoulder, and Tony smiled.

"I don't think so." Another breath, and this time there was no doubting it— he was literally breathing fire.

Part of him knew he should probably be concerned by that. Knew that he'd put in as many fail-safes as possible to stabilize Extremis, to avoid becoming a walking time bomb. 

Right now, though, he didn't care. He just saw red.

"It wasn't him, Tony. HYDRA—"

"I don't care. You're both are coming with me." 

Later, Tony couldn't confidently say who threw the first punch. 

It was all a blur for him, later. A blur of dark wrath and the scent of something scorching and the sound of repulsors firing and the satisfying feeling of punching Rogers with all the force he could muster.

Later, looking at the damage reports and JARVIS' private footage of the fight, Tony would feel remorse for the burns the super-soldier duo had to be treated for, and the puddles of slag that used to be guns. Later, Tony would appreciate JARVIS' response time with the suit, for catching Rogers' shield before it could hit him, and surprise at how his AI hadn't hesitated to blast Barnes' metal arm off.

Later.

Now, though, Tony regained control and found himself in the smoldering remains of what had once been the main room of a Soviet-era bunker, feeling hurt and exhausted and raw, standing over two super-soldiers out for the count and looking worse for the wear.

...where was the suit? 

"Hey, JARVIS? What…"

"Sir, the tranquilizer should last for another hour, and you have enough doses to keep them incapacitated for transit. The suit is currently getting a change of clothes from the plane to accomodate for your...situation." 

Situation? What...okay, you know what? No. That was it, he was clocking out for today because this was hands-down his worst day of the year. Decade, even, maybe. Certainly, it made Afghanistan seem like a pipe dream right now. [Oh, gods.] 

Tony sighed, and ran a hand down his face.

Then he looked down, took in the still-smoking remains of his clothes, and just...sighed, and sat down. 

Right. Extremis. Because everything else wasn't enough, now he had another near-miss with accidental nudity as well.

Great.

And he had to take these two into custody so they could face the music while he did the paperwork for this disaster and deal with all these bombshells and— joy. He felt tired just thinking about it.

Why did he even bother getting out of bed this morning, again?

Scott Lang had known he was getting involved with something big, but it's not until he's in the Raft that it starts to really hit home, and not until he glimpses Captain America and his friend wheeled in and immediately getting whisked off to Medical that he realizes just how in over his head he is.

He'd known what he'd signed up for. [Right?]

He'd accepted the risks when Captain America had called him for help. And yet—

Getting slammed in the Raft was probably just a power play, but it was a very, very effective one. Scott tried not to let it get to him, tried to keep Stark from knowing just how unnerved he was by the show of force. Seriously, though: Hank'd warned him, but it was one thing to hear old tales and another to see the invasion of his people in the Raft. Some really ominous jackbooted types were milling around talking with the Raft's personnel, meanwhile a team of lawyers had apparently set up shop not far from where they were being held and Scott didn't know what a 'replevin' or 'desuetude' was, but they kept bringing it up with his name— and he was hearing a lot of latin in there too, which didn't exactly help.

Whether or not that was a good thing was yet to be determined. All Scott knew was, he was definitely going to need a lawyer, and Hank was going to kill him.  

They'd taken away his suit sometime between the airport and the Raft, and Scott didn't know where it was.

Then Stark walked in with a dark look in his eyes, and things went even more downhill than he had thought possible.

"We can get you the suit," a lawyer said to Stark just outside his cell, and Scott couldn't help the way his breath caught in his throat at the prospect of Hank's technology in the hands of—

"I've already got one, thanks." Stark replied casually, as if he hadn't just invalidated every single warning Hank had given Scott ever since he'd first put on the suit. As if he hadn't just pulled the rug out from under him, because everything he'd ever heard, not only from Hank but also Captain America and the people around him as well, had repeatedly emphasized how Stark was a loose cannon even if he did have good intentions now.

Funny, how one sentence was enough to shake up his worldview.

Then Stark finally acted a bit more like how he'd been told to expect, giving a smile that had absolutely no warmth and all the viciousness that befitted the man Hank had referred to as the 'Merchant of Death', and continued. "But I'd love to see his face when he thanks me for giving it back to him. I think that'd make my day, actually."

"Doctor?" The lawyer asked, frowning slightly for a moment before the penny dropped and a look of unholy glee crossed her face. "You want it public or private? And you're sure?" 

"Wait— you can't do that!" Scott finally burst out as the shock wore off and the reality of the situation finally hit home, and both Stark and his lawyer turned to him with disdain.

"You aided and abetted suspected terrorists, you don't have room to talk." Stark's lawyer replied primly, even as the man himself snorted and raised a hand to rub his temples. 

"Oh, yes I can. If I get my way, he's also going to be footing the bill for everything you broke too, and you're lucky we already set a precedent for telling the government to fuck off when they want to confiscate a suit of your tech—" Stark turned back to his lawyer, a vicious smile still twisting his face into something unrecognizable, "—and Pym Tech's lawyers are going to be just as grateful, aren't they, Jordan? I'll leave it to your discretion." 

The lawyer—Jordan, was it?— let her smile sharpen even more as her eyes gleamed in anticipation. "Public thanks, then. I can't wait. Is that everything?"

Stark looked at his silent captive audience, and let a corner of his mouth tick up. "Also suing whoever's backing the Avengers for damages, because I refuse to pay for what these guys broke. Or for the legal fees for whoever's going to be representing them in the court of international law. Yeah, that's about it. For now."

"Naturally." Jordan said, then turned and marched off towards the rest of Stark's minions, making a note on her tablet along the way.

Stark waved a hand, then turned and headed off to do his own thing too. 

Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was the conversation, but...Scott couldn't help but think he looked tired, for a moment. 

... and then another lawyer handed him a stack of paperwork and a pen, and told him he'd be able to make his phone call sooner rather than later and to think carefully about who he wanted to represent him, and any stray thoughts were abandoned in favor of trying to figure out how he was going to break it to everyone back home. 

Hank was going to kill him, if Maggie or Hope didn't beat him to it.

Oh boy.

Notes:

Unreliable narrator instances this round:

—JARVIS lied to Tony. Granted, it was a lie of omission: the tracker was built into Steve's gear. Among other things, but the rest were...not exactly subtle. [some of you noticed this one a while back, props to you!]

—Tony's quasi-breakdown was based off that same loss of control in the original scene. Because the poor guy's been under extreme stress and now this bombshell? Only here, he's nowhere near as close to Steve...so he has absolutely no reason to pull his punches in this AU. For the record, the worst burns Steve and Bucky got were second-degree, which...considering he also melted metal with his bare hands? Could've been worse. I mean, what'd they expect when they pissed off the guy with Extremis? [...because in this house continuity is a thing and major body modifications don't just vanish into the ether, aka yes I'm still bitter about how it went down in canon] Tony still feels terrible about it, though.

—Scott's assuming the Raft is Tony's power play when in reality it was 100% Ross. Also, he's picking up on the infamous Pym-Stark rivalry, which is a big deal to everyone involved...except Tony [it doesn't typically ping on his radar, as far as issues go].

———————

...I have been itching to write Siberia since before I first started this fic.

Hopefully it didn't disappoint, any complaints [other than it being a bit rushed, for reasons that've already been explained] about it are going to be met with snark. Also, fun fact: originally, back in the 'this is only going to be 5 chapters' days, this and the airport scene were supposed to be the big fights of the fic. The accidental world domination thing came up later because I thought it'd be funny, but originally all the world-building and stuff? Was meant for this. So now you guys get both this and the Final Battle between Tony and Thanos. Woo! [aka this fic should hopefully be less than 50 chapters, knock on wood hopefully I didn't just jinx myself]

Still trying to sprint to the finish, though recent events have thrown a wrench in the gears so probably won't be able to wrap this up as soon as I'd hoped for.