"I thought- I'd assumed, for years that Howard just did what he always did, had too much bourbon and drove. Lost control of the car. I knew there was a coverup with the story, I just- I was wrong in what they were covering up. He never would risk my Mom. Never. We might've argued and he might've been distant but he wouldn't risk her." The one thing both Stark men had in common: an absolute adoration and bone deep love of Maria. "But- we'd argued before they drove out, I've always been good at pissing him off, stressing him out, it's a talent. I blamed him. I blamed him and I blamed myself for years."

Decades. Baggage and issues and pain and all of it unresolved because of this loss cutting the legs out from under him when he and Howard were finally starting to talk and kind of understand each other. All that potential- gone. Irrecoverable. Tony's gaze swept to the middle distance, jaw working. Two years to process everything and he still- "Barnes looked like he was about to cry and I didn't get it until I saw Hydra's favorite Murder Doll roll up to the scene. He- ah. Howard recognized him. Last thing out of his mouth was 'Sargent Barnes.' It's kind of amazing how well a metal fist can mimic impact trauma from a steering wheel."

Horrifying, more like. "Strangled mom. Shot out the camera. But that-"

It cracked him open a little, still, every time he thought about it. Dug in and wrenched around until he couldn't breathe, even then with a full set of lungs and a sternum that isn't half so fragile as it ought to be. Sharp, pained, hysterical laughter trickled out of him from behind his palm, his eyes half closed. "That wasn't the worst part, Bruce."