Chapter Text
Howard and Maria were in the front arguing as usual. Tamer perhaps, but nontheless a fight about when to stop and how important is it not to stop on a 13 hours drive which should’ve been done by plane but Howard insisted on the scenic route for whatever reason. ‘Deadline’ he claims but he was given leave a week before.
Tony was simply in the back silently rooting for his mother and looking out the window at the rare sight of snow. His arms tucked right around his legs and head leaning on the icy glass with a sardonic air.
That is, until he herd the loud rumbling of a motorcycle on an otherwise deserted road. A loud and sudden rumbling.
When he looked back he saw man on a motorcycle tailgating the car and felt Howard accelerate. He looked suspiciously between his father in the drivers-seat and the company. When the speedometer hit 80 miles his mother got nervous and began to notice the rumbling. "Howard. Howard, what’s wrong?"
Before he could answer, the loud burst of a wheel popping reverberated about the car and the car swerved hard. Tony herd an ungodly screech pierce his ears and his seat had a distinct burning sensation. When he glimpsed from the edge of his window he saw bright yellow sparks. Tony gripped the back of his mothers headrest and screamed. He could visibly see his father weighing taking his foot off the gas, glancing up and down the dash. An almost frantic calm settled as he bit his lip and handled the out of control wheel, determined to keep accelerating even as the tail of the car skidded on the asphalt. His mother could barly be herd screaming and yelling for him to stop, pulling at his thigh with white knuckles but leg unrelenting.
And when it all went black, when the story could only be continued in his dreams, mind trying to make sense of what happened, he’ll claim years later it must’ve been an hour of pure helpless terror until the sound of crunching filled his head. And when newspapers say the rock that popped the tire had only been 100 feet from the crash site he’ll scream blasphemy because no matter the number, they could do no justice with their ink. No justice to what the little forgotten seven year old felt in the backseat, never to be seen again for years.
Tony’s moment of clarity before the pain hit was just fear, fear as he watched a stranger so close to him with a mask straight out of a horror film and an accompanying metallic screeching as he gripping the suitcase next to Tony. When the pain hit his vision blurred, from what he doesn’t know but as he watched everything play out his neck felt too weak to hold his head and his skull was throbbing.
He foolishly attempted to grab the case back but the sheer wave of nausia from the movement made him collapse on his side with the seatbelt gutting him.
When the man in the mask rounded about to the front seat and tore his father from the car. He could only watch dazed as Howard muttered ‘Sargent Barns?’ Only to have his face caved in just in view of Tony’s seat and that horrid metallic sound yell even louder with every hit.
Maria gasped and moaned grief as her dead husband was laid almost lazily back into his seat with blood still streaking warm down his face. A disgusting wheeze sounded when the man nudged his chest and the cars’ other occupants where horrified. Tony struggled to set himself back up as he stared at his father’s remains settle into the seat, blood staining the expensive leather and face grotesque.
The man then turned to Maria who began to struggle out of her seat with little success, the door and seatbelt jammed. Tony closed his eyes when the enevitable wheezing and crack of her neck sounded and was only able to sob when the pain became too much. When everything became too much and he gave up because he knew he was next.
And for a moment he allowed himself to bask in his very last thoughts when finally his door was ripped from its hinges.
And then he let himself sleep.