@dontrequireyourhelp; closed starter
When it’d come down the line that his parents had died in a car accident, Tony had known something was wrong just by how it was reported. Faulty brakes, said the news. Faulty brakes, said Obie. Not icy roads or too much to drink or swerving to miss an animal.
Faulty brakes.
In one of the late, great Howard Stark’s cars.
Bullshit, said Tony. So, he went digging. He turned his folks’ house upside down and shaken it until something interesting fell out. Two things, in fact. A covert government agency called S.H.I.E.L.D. (and if that wasn’t the most obvious, posthumous love letter he’d ever seen, Tony didn’t know what was) and something called Project Sleeper.
Which was how Tony ended up drunkenly breaking into a (seemingly) abandoned warehouse to pop open a cryogenic freezer holding the body of none other than the infamous Agent Margaret Carter. Not his best move, probably. Of course, it wasn’t his worst either.
Slumped against a row of packing crates (that he was positive were only there to make the warehouse look full), a cigarette smoldering between two fingers and a bottle of scotch by his hip, Tony waited for the cryo unit to finish thawing its contents out. If he dozed off before it finished, that really wasn’t his fault. It’d been a long week.
