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Judge Stark had worked his way up just like everyone else in the Time Variance Authority. Hell, he did more for the cause if his technical upgrades to the TemPads, charges, and twisters had anything to show for it (and more than made up for any missteps he made in the past). Tony had been a formidable Hunter, cold and calculating, ruthless—it gave him an edge that Judge Renslayer lacked. Nothing had ever phased him.
Well.
Almost nothing.
Seeing James Barnes enter the courtroom reminded him of just how close to death’s door he had been so many years ago. But this one—he was younger, softer around the edges with eyes filled with confusion over fury—there was no trace of recognition on his face as he came to stand in front of Tony.
This one wasn’t a killer.
“Variant J0310, James Buchanan Barnes, is charged with sequence violation 2-14-41. Falling in love with your best friend, and then dodging the draft to be with him…” Barnes flinched at the accusation, his cheeks flushing red. Tony’s lip quirked, the slightest bit amused. “How do you plead?”
Barnes stood stock still, jaw twitching as he gnashed his teeth together. A nervous tic of his that Tony was regrettably familiar with. Finally, he managed to spit out, “With all them fancy gizmos and floating pictures, I figured the future would’a been a little less stiff ‘bout two fellas—”
Tony cut him off, “Oh, you misunderstand. You and Rogers? Meant to happen, down the line. You not shipping out and getting your brains stirred up in Azzano?” He paused, more for dramatic effect than anything, and let a slow grin tug on the corners of his mouth. “That, unfortunately, was not.”
Now, Judge Stark was known to be a callous man, less sympathetic than the next guy, but nothing sparked his sadistic streak more than the look of absolute devastation on a Variant’s features. Defeat was a good look on James Barnes, as it always had been. (In another life, in other instances, Tony had loved him. Tony had loved many variations of him, for whatever time they had. But James Barnes was never his to have—in any life—and it took nearly dying by the Winter Soldier’s hand to finally harden Tony Stark’s heart.)
“What do you…” The Variant blinked hard. His brows furrowed together as he tried to get his mind wrapped around the words. “What d’you mean ‘down the line’? Me and Stevie… but—”
“Down the timeline, sweetheart,” Tony drawled, leaning forward on the stand. There was a crease of uncertainty on Barnes’ forehead that he would’ve wanted to kiss away, once. “Listen, I could bore you with all the gory details, but none of it’s gonna matter in thirty seconds anyway.”
“You can’t keep me here! I’ve got—”
“No, what you got was trigger happy” —Tony remembered how the Winter Soldier’s gunshot was so loud to his ears, the tremor reverberating in the palm of his gauntlet— “and not even in the fun way. So. James Barnes. Bucky. Guilty, or not guilty?”
Barnes’ eyes found Tony’s and locked on, steely blue and unwavering. For a moment, Tony saw it—the potential, the fury, the Soldier that this Variant could’ve been. (He saw, too, the same man who managed to warm the cold cockles of his heart, the one that once asked him to run away from his responsibilities. If he’d been a braver man, Tony probably would have.) They stared at each other, neither one willing to break eye contact.
“Guilty,” Barnes gritted out.
If any of the Hunters and Analysts present in the courtroom were surprised that Judge Stark blinked first, none of them pointed it out.
Tony turned ever so slightly to the Hunter hovering behind Barnes, nodding once. “Reset him.” He picked up his gavel, lazily slamming it down to cement the verdict. As the Hunter grabbed Barnes by the arm, Tony told him jadedly, “I sure hope he was worth it.”
“I regret nothing. Not a damn thing.” Barnes squared his shoulders even as he was dragged away, conviction clear in his voice. Tony wasn’t sure why his heart ached at Barnes’ final declaration: “Least of all loving Steve Rogers.”
