Hawkeye: Agony

A Very Civil War

Tony Stark wasn't a man to back down from something he had strong feelings about. And the thing he feels the strongest about? The death of his mother.

With the creation of his new technology, BARF, Tony was able to replicate the incident in front of him. But like any child, he didn't want to look too hard at the impact as the car crashed in to the off-road tree - or at the two corpses that hung from the shattered windows afterwards.

Even then, it was all there in black and white. Another heated arguement, just like any Sunday drive, but this one was one too many. He sat in the back seat, listening to the curses get tossed between them: his father, Howard Stark, adamant as ever that he'd find Steve Rogers' corpse soon and then they could be a family.  His mother, arguing that she wanted her husband back.

"Well, they definitely found a corpse, alright..."
Tony rubbed his face and ended the simulation, so that the illusion went away as he rose from his sitting position on the backseat.
It was all so ... confusing.
That argument replayed every day. Every moment his parents were together, Tony could hear it echoing through the walls. 'Why wasn't Howard taking time for himself? Why won't he rest? Why does he keep searching for this myth?'
Why was this yelling match different enough from any other that it killed them?
The road, fine. The weather, clear. The car, top of the range model.

This is where Tony would usually call on his sleuthing SHIELD duo to find something agent-y that his tech filled brain couldn't see. But as you've already read, Dear Reader, Tony and me haven't really been super friendly thus far. He knew I had left with Steve, and he didn't think interrupting our escapade was worth it. Natasha, however, came to the rescue once again.

"You know, I'm not the one with the 'Hawk-eyes'," She smirked as she leant over the desk to type. "He'd be able to tell you what your dad ate for breakfast that morning just by looking at him."
"Well I already know that one," Stark mumbled with a haunted tone, the memory burnt in his brain, "A black coffee, and a single piece of toast."
"Well this is depressing," Nat looked up a little to meet Tony's gaze then smiled weakly. "... You're sure you think something is wrong? You're not... looking for a better reason, right?"
Tony paused for a short moment, "Maybe I am. But if I'm right, then a quick background check could change everything."
"And you're going to be okay if something does change?"
"What could be worse, right?" Tony sounded optimistic, but Natasha knew there was a lot of options to choose from.

**

All of this was about killing the Winter Soldier. The accords: they never existed. Well... not until after we destroyed an apartment building.

It was the middle of the night: Bucky and Steve had left to their respective rooms of the apartment to sleep. They left me in my aftermath of a broken body, lying on the couch, deafened and clutching an ice pack to my forehead.
Everything hurt just that little bit too much to be able to sleep, so me being me, I was desperate for some coffee an hour or so in to "resting".
As I rolled off the couch and stood, I created a silhouette against the curtain. A voice of which I couldn't hear rang out.
"Stand down, Barnes. We've got you surrounded."

"There are three heat signatures in the building, Tony," Natasha was crouched up on the roof of a neighbouring building, "Two are asleep. All males, all taller than you."
"Come on Romanoff, was that last bit really necessary?" Tony mumbled, scanning the shuffling figure (me) with his scans as it trudged in to the kitchen to start pouring coffee.
"He heard that, right? Should I blast some ACDC? Get his attention?" Tony turned up his suit's speakers, "Hands in the air and come out to the roof, and no one gets hurt."
"We're the heroes, Tony. Remember?" Nat frowned to herself.
"Yeah yeah... . . .  You're under arrest, pal!!!"