Work Text:
December
Tony stood before a ridiculously ostentatious grave. Howard Stark, it read. Inventor, Husband, Father. He didn’t feel the same anger that he did every other year. “I hated you,” he said to the stone. “I blamed you for mom’s death.”
He shifted his gaze to his mother’s grave. Maria Stark. Returning his gaze to his father’s gravestone, he blew out a breath. “I still hate you. But not for that.”
It was the best he could do. He left behind an equally ostentatious floral arrangement on both graves, knowing that the press was breathing down the graveyard’s gates. It was the first year after the news had broken, after all, and he had to keep his head up.
He swallowed down the burn of anger and betrayal.
January
Angie Martinelli’s gravestone was a quiet thing. It was strange. Aunt Ang had been so boisterous and loud in life. Where Aunt Peggy had been collected, Aunt Ang had been chaos. Where Aunt Angie had been loud and colorful, Aunt Peg had been more sedate, except for her penchant for red lipstick and a bright red hat. They had suited each other perfectly, and had revolved around each other. But this grave? It wasn’t Angie.
Tony took a deep breath with his whole body, closing his eyes for a second, wishing either Angie or Peggy was still here. They would know where to go from here. How to fix this. The thought hurt.
Taking another steadying breath, he set bright yellow lillies down.
February
He stood with Pepper at a funeral service. Her grandmother had passed away, and she was distraught.
As distraught as he had ever seen her, at least. She was silently trembling next to him. He slipped his hand into hers, allowing her to grip his. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Switching hands, he gripped the back of her neck, and leaned in close. “Do you want to speak?”
She shook her head mutely. Nodding, he rubbed her back. Now wasn’t the time for words.
After the end of the service, he left her in the capable hands of Rhodey and began making arrangements for the flowers. Most would be donated, but some would come back home.
“I want yours,” Pepper said, her voice shaking slightly. He turned towards her.
“Mine?”
“Your flower arrangement, I want to take it home.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Of course, Pep.”
Pointing at the arrangement of orchids and hydrangeas. “That one, too.”
March
“Of course I’ll come with you,” he had told Rhodey.
That’s why he was standing at yet another grave. The third of the year. This one was Mama Rhodes’ grave. Mama Rhodes had been so kind to the obnoxious brat of a teenager that James Rhodes had dragged home one break (and many after that.) He had been so terrified that break, but Mama Rhodes had gently pushed him into James’ room, then told him to come back into the kitchen so she could feed him. Apparently he was too skinny.
He leaned against Rhodey, offering silent comfort. It had been nearly a decade since she had passed away, but Rhodey still missed her fiercely. Hell, so did he.
They stood there in silence for nearly fifteen minutes.
Rhodey broke it suddenly. “She loved you.”
Confused, Tony looked at him.
He shrugged. “You think you’re so unloveable or some other stupid shit, Tones. Because of...” he trailed off, unwilling to bring them up. “People do. Mama did. Pepper does. I do.”
“Honey bear,” Tony said, looking uncomfortable.
Rhodey looked away. “Just. People love you, okay?”
Tony finally nodded, looking as if he might believe him.
“Let’s go.”
Tony followed his mechanical footsteps after leaving behind sunflowers. They were her favorite flowers.
April
Tony stood before a simple gravestone. It was a rainy day in spring, and it matched his mood perfectly. In front of him was a physical reminder of the only father he ever really had. Howard Stark had never been his father, Edwin Jarvis had. And now, here on this rainy April day, he was paying respects to the man in his life that had shaped his childhood positively.
“You-” Tony took a deep breath. “You kept me from turning into him. Thank you.”
Leaving behind a bouquet of chrysanthemums, he walked away.
May
Tony sat alone in his workshop. Alone if you didn’t count FRIDAY, DUM-E, or U, that is. He stared at a bright orange ball of coding, a ball of grief hot and tight in his throat.
“I wish I had met him,” FRIDAY said.
Startled, he swallowed. “Me too,” he managed. “The two of you would have run the world.”
“I’ll settle for getting you to sleep sometimes, Boss,” FRIDAY said primly.
Tony chuckled wetly.
DUM-E set his claw on Tony’s thigh, and U laid her ‘head’ on his shoulder. “I miss him too,” he murmured, petting DUM-E’s strut.
He took several deep breaths. It was time to let JARVIS go. He deserved to rest. “Delete the file, FRIDAY.”
“Boss?” she asked, startled.
He looked down, clenching his fist. “It’s time.”
There was a long pause. “Are you sure, Boss?”
Tony nodded. “Delete it.”
He looked up just in time to watch the very last of his youngest son delete out of existence.
“Done,” FRIDAY said, softly.
Tony took a shuddering breath. “Thanks, baby girl.”
There were no flowers to give to this time. No grave. Just an empty space. Then, slowly, a hologram was slowly built. It was a single flower. A white chrysanthemum.
He reached a hand out before remembering it was a hologram.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
June
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your funeral,” he said. “I wanted it to be about you, not about me.” He sighed. “And with the Accords...” he trailed off, looking away. “Doesn’t make me feel any less shitty.”
Shifting uncomfortably, Tony’s shoulders slumped. “I miss you, Aunt Peggy.”
He set a bouquet of bright red carnations down.
July
Tony stared out the window, only half-listening to the woman on the other side of the phone.He was surprised anyone wanted this stuff, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He ‘mhm’ed at what he hoped were the right places as the woman excitedly gushed and thanked him for his ‘very generous donation’ and that ‘so many people would be enriched by this’ and ‘thank you so very much Mr. Stark’.
“Of course, Miss Stewart. I firmly believe that while my father was doing a good thing collecting all of Captain America’s things and keeping it, it’s time to share it with the world, especially in light of...” he paused. “Recent events,” he said, going for delicacy.
Miss Stewart, to her credit, only hesitated for a few seconds. “Yes and I believe we will be including a section on that as well in the exhibit. Regardless, Captain America is, well. Still a historical figure and the Smithsonian has decided that while we are downsizing his exhibit, we will still keep one for him.”
“And of course, I understand,” Tony said smoothly. And he did. Captain America had ‘taken down HYDRA’, or so they had thought at the time. And he had helped a lot with World War II, regardless of his decisions now. History was history. “Shipping arrangements have been made and I believe they will be arriving on Wednesday.”
A few more formalities followed, and Tony said goodbye.
He looked out the window for a few more seconds. “DId I do the right thing?”
“Boss?”
“Getting rid of his stuff,” he clarified.
FRIDAY hesitated. “I think so,” she said.
“Good,” he said, turning abruptly. “Let’s move on. What’s on my to-do list, baby girl?”
August
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rhodey asked, sounding worried. He was in a wheelchair today. The braces were good, great even, but sometimes a wheelchair was just easier.
“No,” Tony said, because it wasn’t. But he wasn’t going to see Stane. He was going to Obie’s grave. The man who had been his godfather. Who had taken him to the zoo, given him presents on his birthday when his father had forgotten.
Rhodey looked at him for a long minute. “Okay. Let’s go.”
They went empty handed. He might be going for Obie, but he still remembered Stane.
September
Ana’s grave was right next to her husband’s. It was quiet out. Between Jarvis and Ana, Tony thought he had turned out pretty okay. He remembered days of doing homework at the kitchen counter while Ana cooked, or baked cookies. Afternoons of her teaching him how to bake cookies, or make pasta from scratch. How to clean a toilet - and then he had promptly created a robot to do the task better and faster. Ana had laughed fondly, ruffling his hair, he remembered. He couldn’t remembered if she ever used it, but she and Jarvis had always loved his inventions. They had never laughed, or broken them. They had always asked questions about them, and when they didn’t work quite right, they encouraged him.
Tony set down an arrangement of white roses and lilies. Classic and beautiful, just like Ana had been.
October
“Happy birthday, mom,” Tony said, setting down a bouquet of white roses.
It was strange, being here and knowing that Howard hadn’t killed them by being drunk. But she was still dead. She hadn’t been perfect. Of course she hadn’t. But she had been his mom.
“I’m trying to forgive them. Him. I don’t know if I ever will.” He rubbed his chest. It ached in the cold. “He lied to me for years, Mama. About you. I don’t think I can ever forgive him.” He rested a hand on the stone for a second. “It’s hard.”
“I love you.”
November
The atmosphere was happy. It smelled like Thanksgiving - turkey, potatoes, stuffing. Pie. Tony took a deep breath, and let the conversation wash over him. Pepper, Rhodey, Peter, and Aunt May were all at the table, passing food and cheerfully exclaiming over the various foodstuffs. He remembered similar previous meals in the past, but this one was with his family. His chosen family, but his family nonetheless.
“Tony?” Rhodey said, nudging him.
He looked over at his friend. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
Tony paused, thinking it over. Was he okay?
“Yeah. I think I am.”
This was his family. Everything was going to be alright.
