Chapter Text
*ring* ring* ring*
"You've reached the number of Colonel James Rhodes, U.S. Air Force. I'm not able to answer the phone right now. Don't hang up, you called for a reason. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you ASAP."
Rhodes...it's Steve. Rogers. I've been trying to contact Tony, but...I know this hasn't been easy for anyone. I'm sorry for how things went. But Clint Barton and Scott Lang need help and I, I honestly don't know who else to ask. Could you ask him to get in touch with me, or with T'Challa? Please." " *click*
Rhodey counted to ten.
Then to thirty-one.
When that didn't help, he recited the alphabet backward. It was a trick his Momma had taught him,when he was little, to help 'quiet his mind'. While he knew he wasn't in Tony's league for intelligence--hell, who was?-- he'd had some hyperactive times, like a number of high IQ kids without sufficient challenge. Education and then military discipline had given him a channel for restless energy by the time he was deployed overseas on his first mission.
He pressed the Delete button on the answering machine. You know, Rogers, apologies for beating someone half to death, without ever trying to make amends, don't mean a hell of a lot. And delivered long distance....I never thought you were a coward, but the evidence keeps piling up, doesn't it?
*ring*
"Pepper? Is everything all right?"
"I was actually calling to ask you that. Tony said your latest test with the exoskeleton didn't go so well? He's worried you may be angry with him or getting discouraged."
"And of course he won't ask me because he's afraid he knows the answer." Rhodes sighed. "If we ever see Rogers or Romanoff again, remind me to smack them upside the head with a sledgehammer, would you?"
Rogers, certainly. I'm calling dibs on little miss snake in the grass."
"Oooh, can I sell tickets?"
"Only if I get twelve percent of the take."
"Deal. Now Tony...Something he can do, would help. He can't speed up time's passing, and no, we won't say that to him. With our luck he'd start working on a time machine next. But...Hm. Maybe if I asked him for a bot or an AI helper like Friday? I have to say, I could always use an extra pair of hands here."
"I'm sure he'd love to build one for you. That's brilliant, Rhodey.
"Aw shucks. Okay. I'll call him tonight--" *beeps* "Crap. Pepper, I've got Thunderbolt calling on the other line. I should go."
Softly, "I love you, Rhodey."
"Love you too, Pepper-pot. Don't worry. It'll be okay, in time. We've all survived worse. "
"Give him hell."
*click*