In All Our Years Series - 4 In 1 | Captain!Bucky, WinterSoldier!Steve | Stucky

1990

| 1992 |

Bucky found Tony in March, a good three months after the publicized funeral for Howard and Maria Stark - he hated every second of it, but he knew he had to stay. For a friend he had once had, for the times they joked around in London while Bucky wasn't running Ops with the Howlies. For the man who had named him and Peggy Tony's godparents. The twenty one year old was sitting in the basement of the Stark's Long Island home. A skyline of empty glass bottles surrounded the armchair he was collapsed in, a half full bottle of liquid bronze in his hand, fingers loose around the long neck.

Bucky sighed. "You're going to poison your liver."

Tony barely acknowledged his presence. He just snarked, "Yeah? Sounds fun. To new experiences!" He toasted with an imaginary companion, and leaned his head back as he practically inhaled part of the remainder of the bottle.

He left the doorway, marching into the gloomy basement. "You didn't show." He stole the bottle from his hand, taking a swig for himself. He hummed. "Smooth. Howard's private stash?"

He tilted his head back, eyelids fluttering. "Didn't feel the need to. And yes. I've known about it since I was ten." He narrowed his eyes, and gestured seemingly-blindly at him. "You cut your hair. Thought you had a female amish lifestyle sort'a thing."

A self-conscious hand reached up to touch the half-length cut he had pulled up with a hair tie. "Dugan's daughter has a shop. I go to her for trims." He snapped his fingers in front of Tony's face, and an obvious jerk ran down the boy's spine. "Why didn't you go to the funeral?

He shook his head, tried to grab the bottle from Bucky's iron grip.

Bucky shoved him back into the chair. He repeated, hardening his voice into Captain America's, "Why didn't you go to the funeral?"

"Because it's his fault!" Tony suddenly exploded, going limp in his seat. He let his head fall back, drunk tears filling his eyes. "I don't - it's his fault she's dead. The only person that ever told me they loved me."

"Tony -"

"He never told me he loved me - never even told me he liked me. He wanted me to be better than you and Steve, he held you guys above me to try and motivate me." He spoke with a clear bitterness and hatred; it was a tone Bucky had never heard from him. Sarcasm? Always. Anything that made it seem like he didn't care, Tony Stark did. "You know what it did? It made me set impossible goals and disappoint him and myself. And he wasn't a charming guy when he was disappointed."

Bucky knew what it was like to have a father like that. But it wasn't what he sought Tony out to discuss. "I'm here to talk about the scene. We can talk about our horrible dads later."

Tony just rolled his eyes. "Tell me, O' wise one."

He swallowed, thickly. "The scene's a lot like Dernier's." Tony pulled another bottle from the other side of the chair. He popped it open, the sound detonating through the room. "Too clean, too...staged. I don't think it was an accident. Gimme that." He snatched the new hard liquor bottle from his loose hands, earning an indignant squawk. "You are twenty one years old. You've already graduated MIT. Act like it." He raked his hand through his hair, the bend from the ponytail still there, and set the two confiscated bottles on the couch that was multiple feet away. "The biggest company in the world has fallen into your hands. What are you gonna do? Sit around and drink? Or get off your ass and do something worthwhile? Obadiah's running your company, working his ass off, while you wallow in self-pity. Yes, your parents are gone, it's horrible - believe me, I know, I get it. But you can't let it define the rest of your life."

"What if I don't want the company?" he postulated, cocking his head as he looked up at Bucky. He shrugged. "I've been getting prepped for it my whole life, but I don't want it. It was his, I'm just an heir." His eyes suddenly lit up, like he had thought of the best idea in the world. "Obadiah can have it! Stane Industries! He's more into the weapons than I ever was, anyways." He slapped Bucky on the arm, as if to get him to 'lighten up.' "Come on, it'll be great for him!"