Henry glanced down at Wanda, then at Pietro, his expression settling into one of quiet agreement.
"I agree," he said, nodding.
"Especially the bathrooms. I think we should rebuild them entirely out of vibranium. I'm worried that one morning, if they wake up cranky, they could blow up the toilet. You know how messy that would be."
"Vibranium? You think that grows on trees? Just grab some and use it?" Tony rolled his eyes, retracting his helmet.
"And you're worried about the toilets? No, the real issue is my wine cellar! God, all those whiskies I've been collecting for decades! I can't even imagine if that speedy kid thinks they're drinks and downs them when I'm not around…"
He shivered involuntarily, as if already envisioning an apocalypse.
"Relax," Henry reassured him.
"I'll keep an eye on him. If he dares touch your wine, I'll hang him from the ceiling so he can get a real-life taste of 'Fast & Furious'."
"Now that's more like it," Tony muttered, a little calmer. He cast a glance at the ruins below, now completely buried in snow, and smirked.
"Alright, the fireworks are over. Time to go home. Jarvis, send the plane. I don't want to carry this sack of potatoes across the Atlantic—it would ruin my flight posture and, frankly, my handsome image."
"As you wish, sir."
Hours later, Stark Industries' private jet smoothly landed at the Malibu beachfront estate.
The morning sunlight danced on the ocean waves, painting a serene picture outside.
Inside, the mood was far less tranquil.
Wanda and Pietro were placed in the medical bay, connected to an array of monitors. Their bodies were fine—only mental exhaustion and enforced calm had put them into deep sleep.
Tony immediately shed his armor, trading it for comfortable casual wear. He held a cup of strong coffee and paced in front of the holographic screens, muttering to himself.
"No, no… energy restraints… need to redesign… must handle that weird energy… security system needs full upgrade—infrared, motion tracking, pressure sensors… all upgraded to the highest level! And my room! At least five independent firewalls, physical isolation type! God, why did I agree to this cursed idea…"
Henry was far more relaxed.
He grabbed a box of donuts from the fridge, sat down without ceremony, and munched while watching his older brother spiral into post-battle stress.
"Could you maybe sit down for a bit?" Henry mumbled.
"You're pacing so much, I'm getting dizzy. People might think you're constipated or something."
"You're the one who's constipated! Your whole family's constipated!" Tony shouted without looking up.
"I'm carefully planning for our survival! You, who only thinks with muscles, wouldn't understand danger if it bit you!"
"Oh? Really?" Henry popped another donut in his mouth.
"And what's your brilliant solution? Wheel the whole mansion around in case things go south?"
"Not a bad backup plan!" Tony replied seriously, then pulled up the mansion's floor plan on the hologram, furiously layering virtual defensive upgrades.
"First, an independent power supply for the energy restraints. Second, all glass upgraded to the latest material—able to withstand that girl's energy attacks for at least a minute… no, thirty seconds! Ten seconds works too!"
Henry shook his head, helpless. Typical victim paranoia. They'd just destroyed a HYDRA base, and now Tony acted like HYDRA was about to raze his house.
"Have you considered," Henry said, finishing the last bite of his donut and dusting off his fingers,
"maybe when they wake up, they won't immediately try to destroy your place?"
"Maybe?" Tony stopped and turned, looking at Henry like he'd just grown horns.
"Oh, please. Henry, you've been blinded by that girl's final look. Just hours ago, they wanted nothing more than to turn us into ashes. You expect them to wake up, repent, and beg to join our righteous family? That only happens in soap operas."
"I'm not naive," Henry shrugged.
"I just think we should give them a chance. And give ourselves a chance."
He walked over to the medical bay, peering down at the sleeping siblings.
"I saw her memories, Tony," Henry said quietly.
"Or rather, she let me see them. War, ruins, hunger, death… and that unexploded Stark Industries-marked shell. The root of all their nightmares over the past decade."
Tony fell silent.
He carried his coffee to Henry's side, also gazing at the young faces bathed in morning sunlight. They looked fragile, like porcelain dolls—hard to connect to the world-ending powers they had wielded moments ago.
"I know," Tony rasped after a long pause.
"I know Stark Industries' past isn't spotless. I've been trying to make amends. But that doesn't mean I should pay for every act of violence by every terrorist. Nor does it mean I should host two ticking bombs in my own home."
"They're not bombs, Tony," Henry shook his head.
"They're just kids who went down the wrong path. And we happen to be the ones with both the ability and responsibility to bring them back."
Henry smiled faintly, though he kept his private thought to himself: Wanda and Pietro were formidable—especially Wanda. A reliable ally for the future.
Tony fell silent again, watching the siblings' faces, even in sleep, still tensed. His irritation and resistance slowly softened.
He thought back to his childhood.
Howard, always busy, stingy with affection.
And his own pride and arrogance, masking loneliness.
Maybe his similarly hard-headed, soft-hearted brother had a point.
"Fine," he finally relented, exhaling deeply.
"One chance. But if they wake up and still look at me like I killed their parents, I swear, they'll be packed and shipped to the Moon to have a chat with the Nazis on the far side."
"Deal," Henry said, smiling.
"But," Tony added with a sly grin,
"before that, we'll need a little welcome gift."
He snapped his fingers.
On the other side of the lab, mechanical arms slowly lifted a tray holding two silver metal collars.
"This is Peace Collar 2.0," Tony announced proudly.
"Equipped with the latest biometric sensors. Monitors emotional fluctuations and energy output. Detects aggressive intent or abnormal energy—instantly releases a neuro-inhibitor, leaving the wearer weak and dizzy within seconds."
Henry raised an eyebrow at the collars, twitching slightly.
"You call this a welcome gift? Looks more like pet collars. You sure you're not planning to raise them as pets?"
"It's a safety measure! To prevent them from hurting themselves, and us!" Tony defended himself stoutly.
"Besides, this is far more humane than your method of just punching people unconscious, isn't it?"
As the brothers bickered over semantics, Wanda's eyelashes fluttered slightly in her sleep.
***
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