Chapter Text
Scott had just hung up with Cassie the next morning when his car arrived in New York to get coffee with Hope. He was luckily not hungover, despite how he didn’t drink often and had gotten pretty tipsy the night before, (he was allowed, it was his welcome party to the Avengers) . He would visit Cassie and Maggie tomorrow, as Hope was often busy whipping shareholders into shape and tearing down the patriarchy with violent delight, leaving her schedule difficult to manage accordingly. Today she had a gap before she handled some business in the city and wanted to hear about Scott’s recent adventure while they both had a free moment.
They had hardly sat down, Hope deigning to let Scott give her a hug as they waited in line to be seated, before she leaned forward and pinned him with a stare.
“So. Lagos?”
“Capital of Nigeria, I think.”
Hope just shot him a look drier than Lagos’s climate, and waited him out.
Scott couldn’t help the smile bubbling up and laughed. “C’mon Hope, no small talk? You look refreshed, and I believe I need to congratulate you on the new role, madame CEO of Pym Technologies.”
She tucked an imaginary stray hair away and preened. “A successful business takeover really does do wonders for the complexion.”
Scott chuckled. “I bet they had no clue what hit them.”
A brief flash of teeth betrayed how pleased she was. “The board didn’t have anyone else they could pretend was even near as suitable for the role as me, and yes, I’d say they were a bit shaken when I started making changes my first day in the role.”
“I’m so happy for you, Hope, it’s what you deserve!”
Her mouth twisted, “That may also be what the shareholders are thinking.”
Scott tilted his head. “I’m missing something. Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”
“I was just made C.E.O. of an international corporation being investigated by the U.S. government for illegal testing, terrorist activity, destruction of property, tax evasion, trading with government banned groups… Our domestic assets are largely frozen, our stocks have plummeted, our main HQ was destroyed, and the main project Cross had been funnelling most of our funding into was the exact project we destroyed. We’re not exactly in the most stable place, as a company.”
“...but you have other buildings and assets?”
Hope just replied with her patented wry look.
“Don’t even pretend like you don’t have a thousand plans to fix everything,” Scott insisted.
“Maybe I have a couple ideas,” Hope conceded.
The two chatted a while longer, with Hope delivering stinging rebukes of some of her colleagues and their proposed solutions. Before they had gotten even halfway through their drinks, though, some other patrons discussed the Avengers within earshot.
Hope smirked. “That reminds me, you still owe me some answers.”
“ I mean, what do I still have to say? I’m an Avenger now, and disarmed my first chemical bomb in the field,” Scott offered.
“A bomb?” When Hope seemed surprised, Scott figured he owed her some context, though he also lacked some of his own.
“Well, what did the news report so far?”
After the brief rundown of what the press had already discussed, (apparently the Avengers released a formal press brief yesterday that glossed over much of the exact battle in favor of explaining their reasons for being there. Apparently, Rumlow attacked the institute while the Avengers were there on a tip for a potential Hydra robbery. The matter of Rumlow’s custody was still being discussed, with the UN and NATO the two most likely ones to take him, though Hope informed him Stark was making some serious waves pushing for sole Avengers extradition) Hope demanded Scott give her a play by play of what he remembered. The two spent a good hour on the exploits, with Hope interjecting questions throughout.
“Wait, why not throw a shrinking disk at Rumlow’s Humvee while he drove away?
Scott swirled the dregs of his coffee thoughtfully. “I guess it wasn't my first priority since I saw Steve falling, though I guess he is a super soldier. And the biological weapon may have broken. Maybe he could have escaped easier small?”
Hope pursed her lips. “I guess we would need to know how shrinking would affect microbes, or if we can target them.”
“If the weapon was even full of active cells.”
Their conversation passed this way, with Hope and Scott dissecting his decisions. She was suitably impressed with his disarmament skills.
“The Avengers lucked out with you,” Hope commented and Scott took that for the high praise it was, considering the Pyms were not inclined to plainspoken affirmation.
“They're pretty great, Hope, if you want me to introduce you?’He didn’t need to explain the implications of the introduction. Hope had always been better with the ants, and he and Hope both knew she would be an asset to any fighting team.
She hummed noncommittally before signaling for a refill of her black iced coffee.
Scott waited her out, and Hope sighed when she saw he wouldn’t go without an answer.
“We have plans to find my Mom.”
Scott gasped. “That’s so great, oh my god! You know I want to still help, right? Let me know at any time, when do we start?”
‘Oh, we definitely expect you to help out,” Hope said with a smile. “But we also have a lot to prep before we do anything, and you have a new team to get used to.”
“I bet they would help too! The technology in that place, it’s incredible-”
“Hank? Work with the Avengers?” Scott deflated at Hope’s dry comment. Not much he could say to that.
“Also, Scott, I don't quite feel right throwing my lot in with theirs right now, especially considering my new position and the questions Dad and I are already dodging.”
Scott noted the casual term for her father as a sign of growth to be happy about later, before pressing for more explanation.
“Watch how the Stark Industries stocks fluctuate depending on Avengers missions, and you'll understand,” Hope explained. “They all face a lot of questions.”
“Yeah, Steve and Tony told me to expect a lot of intrusive speculation,” Scott admitted.
A predatory grin crept onto her face. “I can’t wait to watch your next circuit of interviews. You think you’ll talk to Everhart again?”
Scott winced. “Of course you looked up the news from when I was first convicted.”
“Hold your temper this time, you’re going to have to get used to this one way or another.”
“Not everyone is as smooth on camera as you, Hope!”
Another 20 minutes, and Hope was getting ready to leave, apparently to prep for a meeting with an important business she hoped to take over. Before they parted ways, a thought occurred to Scott.
“Hey Hope, you know Tony, right?”
Hope gave him a look as they made their way to the sidewalk from the secluded booth in the cafe. “Scott.”
“Right, of course.” Pyms were always so testy.
Hope took pity on him and answered his inevitable next questions. “We aren't friends, but we are familiar. I was much younger than him when our families were on speaking terms. I probably know Potts better that Stark these days, considering who's in charge. Why?”
“Well, it's good you know Ms. Potts as well,” Hope smirked at the formality, but Scott hadn't yet met her and felt awkward enough as it is. “Since I was wondering how long they’ve been dating.”
Hope stopped at her car and stared at him. “Please tell me you aren't asking about the love lives of my competitors.”
Scott squirmed.
Hope punched his shoulder, and Scott winced. “Ow, Hope, wait, it's because I'm worried about them! You’re my only friend who knows them both!”
Hope's glare was withering. “Why should I care?”
“I guess, I'm just wondering, um. If Tony could have dated someone else? Other than Ms. Potts?”
“What are you implying?” Hope’s gaze sharpened. “Has he cheated on her?” when she realized she was leaning in to hear, looked irritated at herself and made to leave.
“No! Or well, I really don't think so. They're-.”
But before Scott divulged anything more, he suddenly remembered Tony’s voice the night before when telling a teammate he knew a lot longer than Scott something in confidence. Scott paused to consider this, and it occurred to him he shouldn't tell his teammate's business rival his relationship status, even if he was fond of her. He knew that he'd never quite learn restraint when it came to scurrying out secrets, but he could choose how he used the info he discovered. Besides, Hope would be rightfully upset if he continued asking her inappropriate questions about her rivals and his new teammates. He’ll just wait to ask Sam later.
“Actually, never mind. I'll figure it out myself.”
Hope stared him down, but her glare had lessened when he clearly recognized his overstep. “You’ll ask him yourself?”
Scott gave her a weak smile and she looked to the heavens for help. “Of course not, you'll dig it up instead with those damn puppy dog eyes. The internet has more info on the avengers, and on Stark in particular, than even you can get through.”
“Don't underestimate me,” Scott joked.
Hope just sighed. “You and your meddling.”
Scott only shrugged helplessly. After a moment, her driver politely asked if she was coming and she considered Scott. “Be careful.”
“Keep your board in line.”
Hope smiled, a small private thing, and when Scott reached for a hug she allowed it.
They drove off, and Scott made his way to his borrowed car.
---
When Scott got back to the compound, he debated the merits of collapsing on the communal couch for a post breakfast nap, before deciding he was too restless. Scott snooped when he was on edge, as if on instinct. Maybe it was, as Dave had once said that when he felt nervous before a job, he would do a workup on his car. For Scott, there was nothing that settled him like ferreting out information. Running through blueprints or computer defenses is just another way his uneasiness works itself out of his system, especially when he was in an unfamiliar or confusing situation. Recent events had put a lot on his mind, and besides, he still had a standing challenge to hack the Avengers servers.
He had dug into a new level of the mainframe to start testing some codes when Friday politely invited him to join the team in the common area for some news.
The TV was on in the living space, with no less than three separate projections also up for people to see. Tony had his head in his hands, massaging his temples, Steve’s arms were folded as he frowned mightily, while Sam and Natasha were huddled around one of the moving projections.
“But what does his selection mean for the Avengers?” Steve pressed.
“If I can help it? Nothing,” Tony said while putting his tablet aside with a scowl.
“Is this because of our actions in Lagos?” Sam asked.
Steve winced, but Tony answered. “Probably. Some politicians get skittish and whiny when we don’t seem to be following US policy, so they’ll lean on Ellis about making a statement.”
“Tony, you're the one with the most extensive history with Ross, other than Bruce, and even I know he does not like to leave ‘gifted’ people alone,” Natasha put in. “Don’t you play golf with the President? Meddle. Change his mind.”
“You play golf with the President? Rich people,” Sam said incredulously.
Tony glared at Natasha and responded to Sam. “No, I hate golf. That’s just the stock phrase for attending events where rich people rub elbows with politicians.”
“But you do know him.”
“Sam, I used to be the United States’ top weapons producer. Ellis was the one who knew me."
“But Ellis didn’t choose your suggestion for the role,” Steve cut in.
“I think you can guess I already had a complicated relationship with the government, and I, shockingly, don’t have a strong ally in an administration that continues to want me to make them weapons despite how I refuse to share any of that tech,” Tony replied scathingly. He looked exhausted, and rather than pester him about Stark Industries’ funding like Hope suggested, Scott figured he could just look into the donations to lobbyists and politicians himself when he cracked the server.
“I remember some guys in the VA who did not have nice things to say about Ross. The word is he’s one of those officers who doesn’t care much for the enlisted guys,” Sam added.
“Since he’s the primary reason Bruce had to flee the country as the Hulk in the first place, none of us are fans of him,” Steve sighed. He turned away to lock eyes with Tony. “I guess we're going to have to deal with Ross eventually, since he is now Sec of State, but I still don't like it. Going forward-”
“Secretary of State Ross? You mean Thaddeus Ross got the nomination after all? I hear the guys a dick,” Scott interjected from the doorway.
The four turned to look at the new member as one, and Scott was abruptly unsure if he was meant to be there.
“Yeah, he’s being interviewed by the Senate this week. What exactly did you hear about him?” Sam asked as Steve gestured Scott to join them around the TV.
“Well, we don’t get the most news in prison, um, but my roommates and I try to stay aware of politics. Especially with Kurt's citizenship and Luis's family. When I was still looking for work, before the Pyms? I heard he was all about 'strengthening the borders' and about setting limits on how many people could enter the country.” Scott replied.
“Real charmer,” Steve muttered.
“At least we can hope that the media will be distracted from researching Scott too much,” Natasha commented.
“Media? Me?”
“You’re gonna have to do some press conferences. The team will be with you for most of them, but defending how they go we may schedule some individual interviews on late night TV or in a paper or something,” Tony said, absently flipping through what seemed like schedules and profiles on his tablet.
“I don’t know if you guys know this, but the last time I did an interview I got dragged off screen by prison guards.”
“That fits with this group’s style, don’t worry about it,” Steve said kindly, before pointedly looking at the two with a history of talking before Congress.
Natasha just smirked, and it took Tony a moment to realize he was being subtly addressed before he shrugged. “All reporters are assholes, it's a defense mechanism for the conditions of their job.”
“But they don’t know what to do when faced with an even bigger asshole,” Sam replied.
Tony winked. “Aw, Sam, you figured out my strategy.”
“But we will cover a lot of it with you, Scott. We thought we could go ahead and talk about what we’ll be announcing ahead of time, if that’s fine?” Steve interrupted as if he didn’t get them off track in the first place.
“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes please. I’d appreciate that. I don't have the best history with the press...”
They chatted for a couple hours, dissecting Scott’s actions before, during, and just after imprisonment, as well as what the Pym’s had already hidden and what was still circulating around in conspiracies and rumors. If Scott was going to be a part of the Avengers in this climate, he had to have an answer for any potential question, whether to address how he had “reformed” or to explain the nature of his abilities without giving any actually information that could lead to the Pyms or how to make Pym particles.
“Pym has done a decent job at quashing most of the chaos after the whole… Cross thing, and he’s kept most of the attention focused on him and not Hope. Then beyond that, most people wouldn’t think you are involved with Pym at all. So the question is if you want to disclose where you got your suit,” Steve explained. “I know you’re not quite comfortable with even explaining it to us yet, but people will ask and you need to be ready.”
“Do I have to disclose it at all?” Scott winced. He noticed Steve wasn’t giving up on knowing about the suit, but he doubted Hank or Hope thought about this dilemma beyond the Avengers asking questions, and he certainly hadn’t.
“Just to warn you… People will assume I made it, and it will drive Hank up a wall,” Tony said, barely hiding his glee.
“Won’t your shareholders then want the tech?” Natasha asked.
“It’s fine, they’re used to my withholding,” Tony said breezily, but Steve frowned.
“You’re already still fending off the government.”
“I’m always arguing with them, it’s fine.”
“What if you said it’s your superpower?” Sam cut in.
There was a long moment as they all considered that, but Natasha cut them short. “No, there is too much information about Ant-man in the SHIELD archives dropped to the public. Some investigative reporter will find the old footage of Hank Pym in the suit, and the old military veterans who knew about SHIELD projects will have questions.”
Scott mulled this over. “What if we say… I made the suit after the SHIELD files dropped? That I was inspired by the footage. And we could also circulate rumors it's a superpower?”
“And then some people will interrogate your schooling, some will get paranoid about powers, some will harass Hank, some will suspect Tony, and no one will know for sure,” Natasha summarized.
“It could work…” Tony muttered. “Friday, go through my contacts and look into freelance reporters who might want an inside scoop from an anonymous source. We can make this work, you’ll just have to confirm a story at our biggest press conference.”
“If they even ask?” Scott asked hopefully. He didn’t think Hank would like any of this.
“It’s possible they won’t if they’re still hung up on the criminal record thing,” Sam commented.
“The final thing to cover is your family,” Steve began tentatively. “The name of your ex-wife is hardly known, and we already sent a number of publishers a request to remove her name from all previous articles about your arrest.”
“Friday couldn’t find anything about your daughter in media accessible to the public, and destroyed everything else. The cop has done okay at hiding any ties to your family as well, and he seems to be well liked enough by his whole department, so they’ll help keep things quiet,” Tony said curtly, but Scott figured it was discomfort rather than displeasure about being bothered since he had already seen how much work Tony did.
“Thank you, Friday,” Scott said, and Friday responded cheerfully. “My pleasure. The boss set up a permanent algorithm to watch out for and stop any investigation into your past and family.”
Tony waved off thanks before Scott could give it. “It’s fine, it’s the least we could do to protect your daughter.”
“We won’t let anything get out about your family again,” Steve said earnestly.
Scott just nodded mutely, overwhelmed.
“Natasha and I came up with a plan for any questions on the press panel, just you wait,” Sam said, elbowing Scott lightly and distracting him from his worries.
“God, don’t remind me I have to be ready for that,” Scott whined. “When is this happening?”
“We have a shared schedule that Friday manages for us,” Natasha interjected. “If you tell her to, she can add your plans to it to keep everyone updated as well.”
“I can alert you whichever way you prefer, but many members prefer to use their phone,” FRIDAY added.
“While we’re talking about your phone- I really should have thought about the phone thing before now- expect a unknown phone number to call you later. Friday can automatically screen your calls and let you know when the unknown number calling your phone is cleared,” Tony added.
“You know my phone number?” After his question he instantly felt silly.
Tony’s mouth quirked into a smile, and he simply winked as a response.
“He and FRIDAY are basically Skynet,” Sam faux-whispered.
“Don’t you use his robotic birds?” Scott asked immediately.
“What can I say, I’ll be on the side of the robots when they take over. I’m endearing myself to them.”
“Aw, he thinks he’s the one doing the manipulating,” Natasha said.
“While I love discussing the inevitable rise of my technology to take over the world and Sam’s pitiful attempts to bond with AI, I do have a lot to do today,” Tony interrupted.
“As if you won’t be the one leading your technology,” Steve said with a small smile. Scott almost held his breath, wondering if he was imagining how cautious Steve sounded, and if Tony was ready to joke with the other man yet.
“I’m sorry, Steve, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Tony said ominously, which Steve took a moment to process before beaming at the reference to a previous movie night. Sam booed at the joke, and Natasha hid a smile. Tony flicked his sunglasses on, bowed, and left with a dramatic air. Scott privately hoped he’d one day master the ability to seem like he always had some sort of legitimate business to get to or like he belonged wherever he was, but he mostly looked like he was up to something sketchy when he tried to be unassuming. (Which was especially frustrating when he was up to something.)
Steve shook his head. “Always with the flashy exits.”
Sam and Nat shared a look. “You would know a thing or two about that,” Sam said.
“Jump out a glass elevator once and no one lets you live it down,” Steve replied.
Natasha punched him in the shoulder. “Come on, battering ram, let’s go spar. Feel free to join us, Scott.”
Scott startled. “Huh? Now?”
But Natasha and Steve were already moving down the hallway, engaged in some playful argument about someone “cheating last time”.
Sam made a move to follow the lightly bickering friends. “You going to come train with us?”
Scott thought about the alternative of squinting into a screen until it was time to call Cassie before bed and figured he may as well bond with his teammates now. He might even get some new information!
-----
“How do I hurt more than I did after Lagos?” Scott moaned into his room’s couch where Sam had ungracefully deposited him.
“Because supervillains wish they could be as cruel and malicious as Steve and Natasha are during training,” Sam said sagely.
Scott just groaned.
“Your first official group training as an Avenger is tomorrow morning,” Sam said, gleeful delight coloring his words.
“That didn’t COUNT?!”
Sam just patted his back before leaving with a whistle.
-----
Scott had dozed off for a while and finally felt recovered enough to think about venturing out for food when his phone started buzzing gently next to his head.
He groped around for it, finding it even in his half-asleep state, before clicking answer.
“Scott Lang here.”
“Hey, Scott. The name is Clint.”
And just like that, Scott was bolting awake and barely squashing the instinct to groan when all his muscles protested at the sudden movement. “Clint Barton? As in Hawkeye? Oh man, I’m a big fan! Why are you calling me? Are we working together? I’m honored but- I thought you were retired!”
“Nah, I don’t have a job for you, I leave that to Cap. And thanks, I appreciate the good press. I’m calling because a little birdie tells me you had your first Avenger mission yesterday.”
“Sam called you?”
“No, not that bird, the emotionally stunted one.”
When Scott waited for more clarification, Clint sighed when truly trying not to laugh. “Man, you pick things up quick. Tony called, though it may have been Sam’s idea originally, seems like his MO from what I hear. Anyways, I’m calling because I relate best to the… stress your situation can bring and might be able to give you some advice.” Clint waited as that sunk in for Scott.
“You have a family too?”
“Sure do. Three kids. I trust you can keep a secret?”
“Hey, you’re ex-SHIELD. You wouldn’t be telling me if you didn’t already think I could.”
There was a light laugh on the other side of the line. “Damn right. And I trust a man who’s never turned on his co-conspirators.”
"Did you... hack the police reports?"
"Can you really be accused of hacking law enforcement if you're technically law enforcement yourself?" Clint countered.
“Do you really have kids?” It bubbled out of Scott almost unwillingly, and he was almost taken aback by the suddenness of the inquiry himself.
“Yeah. Three of the terrors. One of them is less than a year old, but already a hand-full. My daughter is my eldest, and we had her while I still worked with Natasha at SHIELD.” Clint didn’t seem bothered by the question.
“Did you… Hide her? Or..?”
“Only three people knew about my wife and kids when I was still working. Natasha, Coulson, and Nick Fury. They were the closest thing I had to a team, and I didn’t trust about anyone else.”
“Which was good, with the whole… Hydra thing.”
“No kidding. Proved my paranoia right. But it’s harder with big groups to vet them all. And I trust Natasha more than anyone, she trusts even fewer people than me and still trusts this lot.”
“Wow. That’s… I’m honored.”
“You should be. But yeah, ask away with your questions about superheroing when you have a family at home, I'm sure you have a lot of them. Least I can do for a poor soul being dragged onto the team."
Scott had so many questions he couldn't think of a single one. “Yeah, I do. But where do I even begin?”
“Take your time. But not too much time, I promised Laila we could practice some archery and she has a curfew,” Clint said, joking to give Scott time to gather himself.
Scott laughed, before finally finding his first question.
“Do you ever stop being afraid of something happening to them because of you?”
“No.”
Scott flinched like receiving a body blow.
“I won’t lie about it. It’s terrifying knowing that your actions could directly bring them pain. I always wish I could bear all the consequences myself. You love them so much but you know there’s a job you have to do and you’re the only one even willing to do it. But that’s sometimes the only thing that brings you home. If you know you have people waiting on you… you can’t fail.”
Scott exhaled properly for the first time since he asked the question. It made it easier to joke. “Any tips on enforcing bedtimes?”
Clint was startled into the genuine laugh.
The two spoke long enough Scott’s stomach was audibly growling and Clint had dinner to prepare for his own kids.
“You seem like a lot of fun, Scott. Good luck with that madhouse over there,” Clint said after he finished answering Scott’s last question.
“Really? I mean, sure, yeah, I’m cool. You should come train with us some time!”
“Maybe I will. Let me know if you need to talk with an actual adult about this stuff again.”
“Why would I let you know I need to talk to Sam?”
Clint almost cackled, and Scott beamed.
“I love it when all the recruits turn out to be assholes. Don’t let anyone try and tell you they’re not.”
He hung up after this proclamation, and Scott took a moment to process the conversation in the aftermath.
“They’re all so… dramatic.”