Chapter Twenty-Two: Proof of Identity

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He felt hazy, as though his mind and body were pushing through a wall of cotton. A hand reached ahead of him to open the door and the rest of him followed it into the entryway beyond. There was a sharp clicking sound––high heels on a hard floor––accompanied by a woman's worried voice.

"Oh, my god––Tony!" Hands that were blessedly cool and solid and real cupped his cheek for a moment, before fluttering around him anxiously. "Happy has been all over trying to find you again. We've tried calling the police, but you haven't been missing long enough to… Is that blood? What happened to you? Do you need a hospital?!"

"Pepper?" he mumbled, finally putting a name to the woman's face.

"Tony?" another voice drew his attention and he looked over to find himself looking at… himself? No, wait. That wasn't right.

"Arno?"

And suddenly, it was like Tony was slamming back into himself, senses and presence of mind abruptly coming fully online again. With a yelp, he stumbled back into the door jamb. Thrusting his arms out in front of himself to keep the others at bay, he glanced anxiously around, breathing rapid and heart speeding in alarm.

"What––when did… How did I get back here?" he demanded shrilly. He tripped over the threshold onto the front step and Pepper reached out to grab his arm to try to keep him from falling. "No! Don't! Don't touch me. How did I get back here?"

"Well," Arno offered in a reasonable voice, his hands held out placatingly before him, "from the look of things, you seem to have borrowed a car and drove yourself."

Tony followed the other man's gesture to see an unfamiliar sedan sitting in the drive. "I––I didn't. I don't remember… last I remember, I was––they were waiting at the restaurant. I had to go with them, or the Huangs... and they… they…"

The words caught in his throat, everything muddling together in his head. There'd been seven agents and a warehouse, a room with a chair and… The book! A blue book and control words and something had taken charge inside of him , and he––

"Please, I don't want to hurt you," he pleaded hoarsely, "I don't know how I got back here."

"Hey, it's okay," Arno said, maneuvering a stricken Pepper back a bit so he could move closer himself. "You're alright, Tony. You're back home and you're safe and neither of us believe for a second that you would hurt us, accidentally or otherwise."

Tony struggled to even out his breathing, but it seemed he was still too shaken to accomplish the task. "You can't know that," he murmured wretchedly. How could he know that? Tony didn't even know what he did in the time he couldn't remember.

"Maybe not," the billionaire conceded, "but I know you and that's something I'm willing to take a gamble on."

"You're not exactly the poster child for wise decisions," Tony pointed out.

Arno gave a wry grin. "No, but Pepper's with me on this and she's one of the wisest people either of us knows. Ain't that right, Pep?"

The woman nodded in agreement. "That's right," she declared. "Come inside, Tony. Let's get you checked over and into something cleaner, okay?"

At that, Tony looked down at himself for the first time since… before. The tac vest was familiar only in that it was standard issue gear common to Hydra and more legitimate agencies alike. Wherever he'd gotten it (and he had an unsettlingly good idea of where that was), he was fairly certain there hadn't been dried blood on it before. Similar stains were on his pants, more noticeable against the blue material.

"I… I don't think it's mine," he stated numbly, referring to the blood.

"All the more reason to get you into something else," said Arno. "Come on, I'll help you clean up while Pepper lets everyone know you're back."

"Okay," Tony finally agreed. To his credit, he only flinched a little bit when Arno's hand wrapped gently around his elbow. He let the billionaire guide him up the stairs.

Once inside the room, Tony stood numbly by the bed as Arno quietly closed the door. He continued to stand there, still trying to recall something, anything, of what happened when the Hydra agent finished reading the words from the book. He couldn't even recall what the last word had been . The man had opened his mouth to utter it and then… nothing. Not a single thing until Tony was standing down in the foyer.

"You really don't remember how you ended up in bloodstained clothing, do you?" Arno said.

It wasn't really a question, but Tony nodded anyway. "No," he husked out. "Got a pretty good idea." Tony could feel Arno's gaze on him and he could only imagine what the man's expression must hold. Maybe now he would be wary of Tony, realize that he'd been too quick to trust him in the first place.

"Jarv, remember that video I had you bury?" Arno's query made Tony turn to look at the man.

"I presume you refer to the one you told me no one was ever to see," JARVIS replied.

"That's the one," the billionaire confirmed lightly, although his expression was grim as it met Tony's. "I think it's time for a little show and tell."

"Of course, sir. Initiating I Know What You Did Last Summer Protocol."

At that, the windows along the back of the room darkened and black and white footage began to play. The quality was less than ideal, but still clear enough to make out a large space closed in by what appeared to be modular room partitions and shipping containers. A man sat in a large chair on a raised platform at the head of the room, guards standing at either side of him while others stood guard at the entrances, a few others bent over some card game at a table in the middle.

For a moment, nothing of import seemed to be taking place. Then, a guard at one of the doorways was abruptly yanked out of frame. His cohort had turned to face the attacker only for a new figure to appear, arm sweeping in front of the guard and a resulting spray bursting from his throat. Everyone in the room appeared to freeze in surprise as their comrade crumpled to the floor. It was only seconds, but it was long enough to be certain that the attacker wielding the large combat knife was Tony.

Tony knew it was himself in the footage. Those were the clothes he'd had to throw out after seeking whoever hired Natalia for the bad job. That had been the first time he'd lost several hours after escaping from Hydra.

Everyone moved at once, then, but Tony already knew the outcome. He'd returned without any injuries save for bruised and bloodied knuckles.

"Stop," he choked out, just as the image of himself on the screen snapped an elbow back into a woman's face as he stabbed someone else in the throat with the other hand. The still remained up for a second before it vanished and the windows went clear again.

Tony could still see it, anyway.

He struggled to formulate some coherent response but all he could manage was an inadequate, "Why?"

"Sorry," Arno responded apologetically. "Probably should have warned you before having JARVIS show that."

"That's from before we knew each other."

"Well, technically. I knew of you."

"You've had proof of what I'm capable of, and you still let me into your life," Tony uttered incredulously.

"Sure, but I'm honestly more impressed with what you can do with a screwdriver and a few spare parts," Arno shrugged.

Tony finally tore his gaze from the window to glare at the man. "This isn't a joke, Arno! I could kill you!"

"Okay, first of all, A, I'm pretty sure that's true of everyone currently in my life, and B, that wasn't even you," argued Arno. "In fact, I'm going to take a stab in the dark and guess that the reason you don't remember how you went from kidnapped to back here bloody and in one piece is because our violent friend made an appearance."

There was a pregnant pause as Tony stared at the other man. He just wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel about anything anymore. Wetting his lips, he finally asked, "How… Why do you think that isn't me?"

"He carries himself differently. You've learned complete mastery of your body. It's why you're able to emulate mine and other people's habits so effectively," the billionaire explained. "But him? He moves like a predator; every part is a weapon. You favor your right for everything except fighting––which Happy still hates, by the way. His fighting is completely ambidextrous, but at the end of the clip, he leads with his left foot.

"Also, even if you didn't obviously have no memory of what happened then, you definitely didn't know there was a camera. Our friend looks right at it before walking out. Ergo, not you," Arno concluded. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"I think…" Tony offered after a short hesitation, "I think he calls himself the Mechanic."

Arno raised a brow. "Your hacker name?"

"Yes, but I think the name is actually his. I just… never realized it before."

"You really didn't know about him before, did you?"

Again, it wasn't really a question, but again Tony gave a response. "Not really," he said. "I mean, there were times that I just… I guess I suspected something, but I didn't really know. Until today." He chanced a look at Arno's expression and the other man held his gaze for a minute or so.

"Okay," Arno spoke decisively. "First off, you're going to shower and then we'll get some food into you. After that, we'll get this all figured out."

Tony blew out a breath, slumping a bit. Figuring anything out would require more talking, more explanations that he wasn't sure he wanted to give. He already felt tired and raw. He wasn't sure he had the energy to try to explain what happened… what had been done to him without his knowing.

But he also knew that he and Arno worked best together as a team. The trust he gave was always returned. Furthermore, as much as Tony disliked the idea of sharing even more revelations from his past, he found that he disliked the idea facing those revelations alone even more.

"Food would be nice," he conceded.

"Great," Arno said. "I'll have JARVIS order in something. I'm expecting one of the spy twins to show up any moment, now, demanding retribution against your enemies. So, I'll just make sure they know they can stand down for now. Have Jarv call if you need anything."

"I will," said Tony. Offering a somewhat awkward wave, visibly reluctant to leave, Arno then turned to go.

Reaching for the zipper of the tac vest, Tony shrugged it off and laid it aside. Then, he grabbed for the bulky object that had been tucked into his belt beneath it. Tony was not surprised when it turned out to be a book––it had certainly felt like one. What shouldn't have surprised him was when it turned out to be the book. The handwritten blue journal that the agent had read from before he lost all grasp on himself.

He reflexively tossed it away from him with a startled, "gah!" It landed on the carpet with a muted thump, a loose page coming partway from its pages. Hesitantly, Tony moved towards it, reaching to pick it back up.

With a gentle tug, he pulled the loose sheet free. It had clearly been torn from the journal itself. Tony was pretty sure the message on it was new, though; he recognized the writing

The writing was his own. Not the half-bold, always rushed engineer's hand that he thought of as his 'Stark script', since it was identical to the billionaire's own. No, this was Tony's handwriting, the old-styled cursive he'd been taught as a child, only with one exception.

It had a leftward slant.

'Anthony,' it was addressed.

Tony crammed the page roughly back into the book before shoving the whole thing under his mattress. He hastily shed the rest of his clothes as he made his way into the bathroom to climb into the shower. The water wasn't even hot yet when he doused himself beneath the spray.

He told himself he hadn't seen the rest of the innocuous note. Eventually, Tony knew he would have to deal with it all. With the book and the note in his own hand and… them. At the moment, however, he just couldn't.

So, he wouldn't. Instead, he would focus on showering, then food. After that, he would see.

Even as he tried not to think about it, Tony couldn't help but note that he'd been right. The one that wrote the message had signed it 'Mechanic.'

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'Anthony, This book should answer many of the questions I'm sure you now have. I trust you'll have little trouble answering the rest. -Mechanic'

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To be continued...