Who Am I? » [Stucky]

57. Facing The Past

There was a quiet rapping at Tony's door. Two sharp polite knocks; official and curt; cutting off his jamming to AC/DC and leisurely tinkering session. With resentment he down tools and begrudgingly turned down the stereo and started his trek around the house, strolling lethargically through the mansion from the basement workshop, trudging up the stairs, through the open plan space and to the door: ready to welcome his parents back home after their holiday. Or... More like lavish Maria with buckets love and give Howard the cold shoulder and silent treatment.

Tony ran a hand through his messy wavy dark askew strands, adjusting his unruly greasy hairstyle slightly and wiped off some of the oil and soot smeared on his blackened face. He opened the large wooden door casually, expecting it to be his family standing on the front porch under the arch of carved marble stone.

"Hey-"

There was a couple of businessy men in suits stood formally in the doorway, their heads lowered solemnly and their suits trim and well-fitted. Clearly they were a couple of his father's personal flying monkeys.

"Oh..." Tony grumbled, his already dull casual expression turning bitterly sour and disinterested. "What is it?" He grunted, crossing his arms and tapping his foot indignantly, bored and displeased already - feeling they were wasting his time.

"Mr Stark..." The man nearer to him began, his voice sullen and low, quiet and reserved. "Would you mind if we come in?" He looked sympathetically up at Tony with guilty eyes, being even more polite and respectful than usual - his tone sincere and soft.

Tony scrunched up his face, his nose crinkling and his brow furrowing. He turned and looked back into his palace of a house, currently all to himself with music drifting from the other end of the building. It was the epitome of luxury and gluttonous self-indulgence and he didn't want anyone to intrude upon that.

"Uh..." His brown eyes crinkled at the sides as he narrowed them at the pair of men who has just turned up on his doorstep unannounced and were now trying to gate-crash the premises. "No..." He replied stubbornly. "Not today, thank you..." He swept the door shut, but a foot caught, a posh Italian leather shoe wedged between the door frame and the heavy wooden door.

"Mr Stark... This is important. It's about your parents."

Tony emitted a large heaving sigh, rolling his eyes in frustration and balling his fists. He peered through the gap of the slightly ajar door. "Look, I'm nineteen, tell Howard that I can look after myself! I'm not as stupid as he thinks I am! Now, with all due respect, shove off!" He attempted to squeeze it shut, kicking away the foot.

A file caught between the door and the doorframe.

"An accident happened on Long Island and we must speak to you... It's a matter of upmost urgency," the man mumbled through the tiny gap, his voice tinny and muffled.

Tony's senses were tingling and he stopped trying to shut the door and let it swing loosely open on its hinges, revealing the two men still standing there defiantly.

"What kind of an accident?" The intrigued and trepid voice of Tony Stark crooned.

"You're going to need to let us in... And I suggest you take a seat," the man encouraged, his voice authoritative, yet soothing.

Tony bit at his lip and gave a silent nod and stood aside, granting his father's employees entry to their personal home. They both removed their hats and trench coats and sat bolt upright on the sofa; shoulders back, eyes front and lips sealed.

"What's this about?" Tony demanded, flopping dramatically on the sofa like the hissy petulant teenager he was, trying to get rid of them as soon as possible.