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“Good evening, do you have a reservation?”

“Heh, I wish. I’m just here to see someone.”

In reality, Zeke wanted nothing to do with the restaurant. He had heard stories from his father about the place; the food was mediocre, and the atmosphere was much too laid-back for his liking. Looking around, he could tell the latter statement was correct. Hell, the fact that the hostess was willing to let him in without a reservation had confirmed his dad’s claims. 

He could see Stark from the waiting area. The man was chatting it up with who he could only assume was a new girlfriend. There was a single moment where he and Zeke made eye contact; Stark lingered, as if trying to remember the face, then went back to cutting away at his steak. 

Zeke figured as much.

Pretending to be on his phone, he perked up as he noticed the hostess approaching him with Stark in tow. “Hope I’m not interrupting a well-deserved night out.”

“No, it’s nothing,” Stark replied. Zeke could see he was still struggling to identify him. Had he remembered him after all? Perhaps he’d had a bigger presence in Stark’s life than he recalled. “Sorry, you just look so familiar. Have we met before?”

“Not formally,” Zeke said, offering him a hand.

“Ezekiel Stane. You worked with my father, Obadiah.”

____________________________________

“What about Osborn? You’ve met with him several times, maybe we could convince him-“

“Forget it, Zeke,” Obadiah said, before being wracked with another coughing fit. “We’ve exhausted all our resources, not that we had many to begin with.”

“So, what? That’s it? You’re just going to lay there and die?”

He shrugged. “Not much else I can do.”

The young man clenched his fists and eyes shut, taking in a deep breath before slowly letting it out.  “That’s not like you. All my life you’ve told me there’s always a solution to be found; you just have to keep looking.” 

“Not everything has a solution, son,” Obadiah replied, voice hoarse from his early coughing. “I’m going to die, plain and simple. Whether or not it’s because of Stark doesn’t matter at this point. What’s done is done. I have regrets, and I’m sure he does as well, but as much as we both wish we can go back and fix things and have a happily ever after, it’s not going to happen. This,” he said as he gestured to the bed, surrounded by medical equipment, “is the closest thing to a happily ever after I’ll get.”

He watched as Zeke slumped down into his chair. How heartbreaking it must have been; watching a man who preached about never giving up basically turning right around and doing exactly that. 

Or so it seemed.

“But Zeke…”

Zeke raised his head, eyes locked on his father as the old man carefully shifted into a sitting position. 

“While death may not have a solution, our problem with Stark absolutely does.”

“If I don’t get my happily ever after, then why should he?”

____________________________________

Tony nodded solemnly. “When did he die?”

Zeke hesitated. “Last week. He went peacefully, thank God.” His head drooped.

Tony put a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “That’s all you can hope for, isn’t it?” He gave Zeke a smile, and Zeke eventually returned it. “I wish we could’ve patched things up between us. Looking back, our disagreements were pretty miniscule.”

Zeke nodded. “Yeah, he told me he had some regrets as well. But what’s done is done. All we can do now is focus on the future.”

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know, he said that exact thing to me when my parents passed away. I guess he lives on in you. In all seriousness, if there’s any thing you need help with, arrangements and the like, don’t be afraid to ask."

Zeke smiled. “I’ll let you know.”

____________________________________

Ever since his father’s passing, Zeke made sure to keep the lab clean. He and Obadiah always did the cleaning themselves; they could never trust any sort of help whatsoever with such…precious work. It also saved them money, which was great, as they needed a lot of it to fund their latest project.

The fluorescent lights flipped to life, row by row until the hulking mass of metal was lit. It was by far the longest project Zeke and his father had worked on. Several weeks of combing the desert for the parts and restoring them, on top of months spent reverse engineering the technology. It was all worth it, though. Soon, he’d have the final piece, and he could begin phase two. Stark Industries would be destroyed, Tony himself would be eliminated, and Zeke would build a bigger, more powerful company from the rubble to carry out the mission his father died trying to prepare for.

He’d become the thing Tony Stark didn’t have the balls to be.

A warmonger.
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