Work Text:
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women with too many pills
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will…
You don’t still listen to that stuff, do you?
The jibe echoed in Tony’s head, making him smile as he bent over his latest project. "You have no taste, honeybear," he'd always reply, only for Rhodey to roll his eyes and change the subject.
That smile vanished as he remembered the last time he had seen his best friend. Rhodey had been surrounded by white-clad physiotherapists, sweat pouring down his forehead as they guided him through his vigorous daily rehabilitation routine in the Avengers Compound med bay. Tony had come to help, to try and return some of the support that Rhodey had shown him time and time again through the increasing chaos that had been their lives since Afganistan.
He had walked straight out of the med bay five seconds later instead.
He'd been holed up in his workshop dodging calls ever since, with the music turned up high enough to drown out any thoughts not related to the designs coming together under his fingertips. Thoughts such as an unmoving Rhodey in a picturesque field; those horrible few seconds when Tony had been sure he'd been too late. Thoughts of wasted moments; an argument that had led to blows at what he had thought would be his last birthday. It wouldn’t be the last time he fought someone he considered a friend.
I'm gonna take you down, yeah, down, down, down
So don't you fool around I'm gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger...
And then there were those thoughts, the ones he really couldn't face. Rhodey struggling. Rhodey in pain. Tony being able to do absolutely nothing to help.
Well. Almost nothing.
“FRIDAY, turn it up.” Tony leaned in closer to the mechanical braces on his workbench. What had happened to Rhodey didn't need to be the disaster that changed his best friend's life forever. Tony could fix what had happened. He was Tony Stark. He could fix anything.
He could almost feel the flip phone burning a hole in his pocket.
“FRIDAY, max volume."
"Max volume already achieved."
"Then use the Spinal Tap protocol and turn it up to eleven."
He didn't miss the note of disapproval in the AI's voice as she replied. “Of course, Boss.”
Tony leaned back, letting the pounding music replace the images of absent and injured friends in his head, safe in the knowledge that the workshop's state-of-the-art soundproofing wouldn’t wake Pepper. He assumed she was asleep by now; she was usually in bed by midnight, one at the very latest if work had been busy.
“FRIDAY, what’s the time?”
“4:39 am, Boss.”
“Burning the midnight oil, huh?" He should go to bed. Pepper was always annoyed when he showed up grumpy and sleep-deprived the next day, especially when he had meetings. Did he have meetings? God, he hoped not. He’d usually try and wriggle out of them, but he had been on his best behavior since Pepper had moved into his rooms at the Compound; a building which they now shared with Rhodey, Vision, and a whole lot of empty rooms.
She deserves better than you.
Tony shook away the discerning voice he was no longer sure was his father’s or his own. “FRIDAY, do I have any meetings tomorrow that may need a couple of hours of sleep?” He examined the mechanical brace; the pieces that had finally begun to slot together. He was so close. A couple more hours and he’d at least have something to show Rhodey in the morning...later this morning.
As if a few scraps of metal are going to make up for what you cost him.
"Wasn't just me," Tony muttered, but that excuse had died long ago. Tony was still coming to terms with what Steve had done; what that choice had cost. Still, in his most honest moments, he couldn't deny that Steve Rogers had always been one to follow what he thought was right in the moment, consequences be damned. No, the weight of what was coming—days, weeks, years in advance—had always fallen to him. He was the futurist. He was the one who could—should be seeing the dangers coming.
But he hadn't. He'd lapsed. And Rhodey had paid the price.
He scrubbed his hands over his eyes, the braces turning blurry below him. That was generally a good sign to head to bed, but if he kept working just a little longer, he might be able to...
Wait. No. He had thought about going to bed because of...meetings. He had asked FRIDAY about meetings, and hadn't even heard her answer. “Sorry Fri, say that again?” This time, he forced himself to pay attention to an answer that didn’t come, just as the AC/DC suddenly shut off.
Tony tensed, his ears ringing in the sudden silence. “Is that you telling me to go to bed, Fri? Because I know I was just thinking that but still, I gotta say, I resent that kind of helicopter AI-ing."
No answer.
Tony's apprehension grew. "Don't mess with me right now, FRIDAY, or you're getting donated to MIT's new batch of freshmen. Fri?"
All the lights in the lab shut off.
Tony already had a hand stretched out, summoning a suit, when he noted that there was a sweet scent starting to claw at his nostrils. His head grew heavy, eyes slipping shut, and wouldn’t it be nice if he lay down for a second, just one second, before he got back to work.
Please don’t be kidnapped again, was Tony's first thought as he fought to open his eyes, his head foggy and dull. I promised Pepper. And I have to fix…
He finally managed to crack an eyelid open, realizing that the floor pressed against his cheek looked familiar. The floor of his workshop. Which was...good. Unless he passed out, which was significantly less good. "FRIDAY? If I just fainted, don't you dare tell Pepper until she's had at least two cups of coffee and—"
Something round and cold pressed against his head as he struggled to his knees, the rest of the fog dissipating. He tested his hands, feeling the pull on his shoulders, the sharp plastic digging into his skin—zip-tied behind his back. Definitely and without a doubt in the not good category.
“Thank god," Tony stated, keeping his voice casual. "FRIDAY lectures me enough about my health as it is without adding dizzy spells into the mix."
The statement was met with a low chuckle, the barrel of the gun pressing a little harder against his head, preventing him from looking up. "Your AI will not be assisting you, Mr. Stark."
"That's a shame. Kind of her whole purpose and all." He tested his bonds, looking if he could slip them, only to get a tsk as whoever was holding the gun on him shifted half a step closer in warning.
"You will not have help," his captor stated. The voice was cold; male, with an accent just jarring enough that it felt put-on. "Your workshop is soundproofed. And everyone knows Tony Stark does not like to be disturbed while he’s working.”
“That’s never stopped Pepper before. I give you one, maybe two hours tops before she comes down here to drag me to bed. And she has a very extensive security team on speed-dial." Tony tried to dart his eyes around, to get more detail than the one patch of floor he was being forced to stare at. He caught the shadows of what might be three figures off to his left. So the gunman had friends, then.
The man holding the gun laughed again. “You think we are stupid? Ms. Potts departed for her business trip this morning.”
Had she? Tony hadn’t remembered, hadn’t even said goodbye...he didn’t even remember where she was going or for how long. He owed her so many flowers. Tony owed Pepper Potts a lot of things.
“So just me and you then?” Tony said, trying not to let the mounting anxiety phase him. These people had been prepared enough to get past his security, into his workshop, past FRIDAY. “People usually book an appointment. And I'm pretty booked up, as I'm sure you can understand. So, if you wouldn't mind seeing yourself out—"
“You are a busy man. And we are not patient people. We will keep this quick.”
"Sure," Tony agreed easily. The sooner they got to the demands part of this experience, the sooner Tony could move. He was beginning to get a crick in his neck. "Let me guess—you want money. Then know that I can’t touch so much as a gift card without FRIDAY. Or if you’re expecting a ransom, then we have protocols for that too, and you're not going to like them.”
“We are not after something as common as money, Mr. Stark.”
“My tech then? Same deal. Nothing can be authorized without FRIDAY. And if you shut her down without my say-so, she stays that way for forty-eight hours." That wasn't true, not by a long shot, but the men with guns didn't need to know that. "And since you were bright enough to kidnap me in my own workshop, I’m going to say that's not time you have. I have a company to run—people are going to notice I'm missing, and this is the first place they're going to look.”
“We are not going to wait for forty-eight hours, Mr. Stark. No one is going to notice you are gone long enough to come searching for you. You have an emergency protocol to restart your AI, and you are going to give us access to your blueprints and designs now.”
"And if I don't?"
"Then we will make you."
Tony sighed. Torture sucked, and Pepper was going to kill him for letting himself get injured in the Avengers Compound of all places, instead of coming to bed with her like she'd asked. “Get on with it then.”
He felt the gunman pause, as though confused.
“Whatever hellish hurt you’re going to rain down on me," Tony called up to him. His knees were starting to ache, but he had the growing feeling that that was about to be the least of his issues. "The teeth-pulling or the water-boarding or whatever new torture craze is hip with the evil kiddies this month. Or I could save us all a bunch of time and tell you, upfront, that there is no way you’re getting access to a single one of my designs. I've seen what my tech can do in the wrong hands, so sharing with new friends with guns? No, thank you."
“Indeed, we do have some new tricks, Mr. Stark. But we did not say we would be using them on you.” The gun finally left the back of his head, and Tony immediately jerked his head up, taking in the rest of his captors, only to see—
There were three figures off to his left, but only two of them were wearing the same creepy, blank white mask that the man who had been speaking was. The third was on his knees, slumping on the ground with his hands bound behind him, a thick cloth wrapped around his mouth preventing him from speaking. Rhodey's eyes locked with Tony’s, the message there loud and clear. Don’t give them a thing.
Tony jerked against his own bonds, surging forward, only for the gunman closest to him to grab him by the collar, hauling him back onto his knees. "I'm going to kill you," Tony promised. "Slowly. You want to avoid that? Stay away from him."
The lead gunman walked to where Tony could see him in full, leveling the gun at Rhodey. “Please, give us access to your designs, Mr. Stark. I won't ask nicely again.”
Tony locked eyes with Rhodey again, the latter giving the slightest shake of his head, warning Tony off. Tony fought down the rising panic, trying to keep control of the room. “Hurt him and I’ll give you nothing.”
"I suggest you hear our offer before you make your own, Mr. Stark. Cooperate, and you and your friend shall be free within the hour, no harm done." He nodded to one of his masked accomplices. The man took his cue, reaching into his coat to withdraw a small, black case. Tony used the distraction to try and search for weaknesses in his bonds again, only for his complete focus to be pulled towards the large needle that was being produced from the box. “Do you know what is in that needle, Mr. Stark?”
"Please, do share with the class." The words came out confident enough, but alarm bells were ringing in Tony's head. He could see Rhodey flexing his own hands, biting down on the gag as he strained against the plastic, but it was quickly becoming clear that neither of them was going to escape fast enough to prevent what was coming.
"This," the leader indicated the needle. "Is a chemical compound that, when injected into Colonel Rhodes’ spinal column, will render him paralyzed from the neck down.”
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet several degrees. A low sound echoed in the back of Rhodey's throat before the man seemed to catch himself, inhaling sharply through his nose before he shook his head at Tony again.
"Brave," the leader mused. "But unnecessary. This is not your choice, Colonel Rhodes. Your wellbeing is now completely in your friend's hands." The tip of the needle was placed against the back of Rhodey’s neck. "A simple decision, Mr. Stark. Elegant even. Give us access to your AI, or watch as your friend pays the price."
Tony knew he shouldn’t. He knew—had seen what kind of devastation handing over his designs to criminals could do to the world, knew that risking all that for one person was madness. Knew that was exactly what Steve had done for Barnes, and they'd both had to deal with every consequence of the fallout as the Compound lay nearly empty of heroes.
Nearly empty of heroes. Not completely.
“You are refusing?” The leader sighed, the blank mask cocking to one side. “That is a shame. You are a good man, Colonel Rhodes. I am very sorry about this.” He waved his hand, and the man holding the needle began to push it into Rhodey’s neck.
“Stop!” Tony’s eyes were on the ground, unable to look his best friend in the eye, not wanting to face the disappointment there. “I’ll do it. Just…don't hurt him."
Rhodey shouted something into the gag, the words muffled but determined, but Tony’s eyes were on the masked leader. The man indicated to his accomplice, and then the needle was retracted, although not put away. “A good choice, Mr. Stark.”
He looped back around Tony, bending down to cut away the zip-tie locking his hands together. There was a brief moment where Tony knew he could have grabbed him, flipped him over his shoulder, used him as a shield against the other two and maybe…
The needle still hovering around Rhodey’s neck stopped those thoughts in their tracks. The leader seemed to sense his thought process as he helped Tony to his feet, the blood rushing back into Tony's hands as he shook them out. He took a large step away, out of Tony's reach, and leveled his gun at Rhodey's forehead.
Tony took an aborted step forward. “You don't need to do that."
The leader remained unphased. “A little extra insurance to ensure your cooperation. Now, please restart your AI.”
Rhodey was still trying to talk around the gag, making a sound of indignation as Tony turned his back on him, trying to gather his thoughts. Their captors hadn't taken anything yet. He still had time to come up with a plan to get them out of this without Rhodey getting hurt. “Hey, Fri. It’s me. False alarm. You can open up again." He swallowed, then went for it, praying this move didn't spell disaster for Rhodey. "Get JARVIS too, while you’re at it. We're on the clock.”
He held his breath, waiting for one of the gunmen to call him out. They didn't; there wasn't a sound in the room except for Rhodey's sharp inhale through his nose, before he fell silent. Then— “I am online.”
The leader hummed, flicking the safety off the gun still pointed Rhodey's way. "So much for forty-eight hours, Mr. Stark."
"Can't blame a guy for trying." Tony moved as casually as he could around his nearest workstation, putting himself adjacent to Rhodey. "Welcome back, Fri. Is JARVIS on his way too?"
There was a brief pause as Tony considered if he could get even closer to Rhodey without drawing suspicion, before deciding against it. "He is, Boss."
“Good girl.” Tony fought for the relief not to show on his face. Rhodey seemed to have picked up on his plan as he went still, readying himself. “Was there something in particular you lot were after? A suit design maybe? Or the arc reactor? That’s a top hit amongst you criminal types.”
“All of it.”
Tony couldn’t bite back the laugh. “All of it? Do you know how much all of it even is, Michael Myers? Even if I had Fri print you all the blueprints it would literally take days—not to mention the number of trucks or planes or whatever it would take to transport it out of here.”
For the first time, the leader seemed to hesitate. “The weapons.”
“Okay, slightly more reasonable. Every weapon ever? Sure, give us a week and maybe a quinjet, I could probably get that to you.” When he got no answer, he plowed on. “Please don’t tell me that you were smart enough to break in here, kidnap both Iron Man and War Machine and shut down FRIDAY, but were too thick to think this part through. Because seriously—”
The bang that echoed through the workshop had Tony starting forward with a panicked yell before there were hands grabbing his shoulders, yanking him back. A muffled sound of reassurance came from his right, and Tony's brain finally caught up to what his eyes were seeing. A dent in the floor. An unhurt Rhodey. Just a warning shot.
The leader hadn't lowered his gun. “You will speak when spoken to, Mr. Stark.”
Tony bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. Being quiet was not his strong suit. Then he lowered his eyes to Rhodey, who was panting just as hard as he was, struggling to even out his breathing as each inhale sucked in the fabric binding his mouth. "Hey," Tony said softly. "Rhodey. You're okay."
Rhodey swallowed, trying to redirect the airflow through his nose, slouching back against the knees of one of his captors.
"Take the gag out," Tony ordered. "Take it out—he can't breathe!"
"We will untie your friend when our business is complete," the leader stated. "Until then, you would do best to remember that—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence. When the far wall of the workshop began to phase, a figure emerging through it, Tony was looking for it. The gunmen weren't. A beam of yellow light disintegrated the gun in the leader’s hand as Tony threw himself at Rhodey, knocking the needle away from his neck and keeping him pinned to the ground as the fight broke out around them, using his own body as a shield.
It was a short fight. When quiet fell, Tony looked up to see Vision standing calmly over three unconscious bodies as FRIDAY's voice echoed from the ceiling. “I assume this is what you meant when you asked for JARVIS, Boss?”
“You’re a gem, Fri.” Tony gave Vision a nod of thanks as he clambered off Rhodey, pulling the gag out of his mouth and helping him sit upright to take pressure off his lungs. “Are you okay?”
Rhodey pulled in several deep, full breaths, leaning heavily into Tony. “They couldn’t have waited a couple more hours? It's five in the freaking morning. Some of us need their beauty sleep.”
Tony started rubbing comforting circles on Rhodey's back, rearranging them so Rhodey's head was against his shoulder. “All the beauty sleep in the world ain't going to help you, Platypus.”
“You’re the worst, Tones.”
Tony swallowed, eyes traveling to the discarded needle. “Yeah, I know.”
Rhodey tensed against him, struggling to sit upright with his hands still tied. “Hey, I was joking. I didn’t mean—”
“I also called in security, Boss. Mr. Hogan will be here in under sixty seconds.”
“I’d better deal with the clean-up crew," Tony said quickly. "A little help, Vis?"
Vision crossed the room in two strides, snapping the zip-tie around Rhodey's wrists. "Can I offer you some assistance, Colonel Rhodes?"
Rhodey rolled his eyes, even as his gaze was still on Tony, concerned. “Vis, we’ve been through this. You can call me Rhodey. And you," he aimed at Tony. "We're not done. We're talking about this. Okay?"
Tony hated himself for being relieved when the backup came through the door, so he had a reason to dodge the question, and to look away from the synthezoid hoisting Rhodey into a fireman’s hold and carrying him out of the room.
“How do they feel?”
Rhodey tested out the new braces, tentatively making his way from one side of the workshop to the other. “Weird,” he admitted. “Not bad weird. Just…different. Might take some adjusting to.”
Tony crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. “Any feedback? I added the air-conditioning units, so they shouldn’t heat up as much now.”
“Tones—”
“And these aren’t really finished. I have some more ideas that I can try.”
“Tony—“
“This is really still a prototype. A work in progress. The finished product is going to be so effortless that you won't even notice—”
“TONY! Shut up for half a second, will you?”
"We both know that is an extremely unlikely occurrence."
Rhodey made his way across the room, already moving easier as he adjusted to the braces, laying a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “They’re great. Thank you. Unnecessary, but thank you anyway.”
Tony blinked. “I’m sorry, did you just call one of my inventions unnecessary?”
“It’s not that I’m not grateful, because I am. I know how much time you put into this. But I would have been fine without them. I’m not broken. I’m just a little different now.” On seeing that Tony didn’t have a response, he grinned. “A speechless Tony Stark, huh? What was that about an extremely unlikely occurrence?"
Tony didn't laugh. "It's my fault you need them in the first place. We both know that's the case here."
The grin slipped away as Rhodey turned serious. "138 combat missions. That's how many I've flown, Tony. Every one of them could've been my last, but I flew 'em. Because the fight needed to be fought.”
“Maybe this one didn’t. Maybe—”
“It wasn’t your fault, Tony.”
“There were so many other ways the Accords could have gone. If Rogers and I hadn’t...If I hadn’t—”
“It wasn’t your fault, Tony.”
“Or if I had been just that little bit faster when you fell—”
“Tony. It wasn't your fault.”
“Jesus, are you auditioning for Good Will Hunting?”
Rhodey snorted. “Is this the part where you break down in my arms and all is forgiven?”
Tony blinked away the film of tears, hoping Rhodey hadn’t seen, but one look at his best friend told him he had. Rhodey squeezed his shoulder, leaning against the workbench where Tony had slaved over the braces for weeks in a row. “I would have taken that needle, you know. And I wouldn’t have blamed you for a second.”
Tony deflected. “And that’s why I’m the smart one.”
But Rhodey shook his head. “I know you. Which is why I know I can’t get you to stop blaming yourself. But at least know that I don’t blame you. You put those Accords in front of me again, I'd sign them, because it was the right thing to do. And this..." Rhodey surveyed his legs, face dropping. "This is a bad beat. This...this is really hard, okay? I'm not pretending it's not. You know what would make it easier?"
"I'll keep making adjustments to the braces," Tony started, but Rhodey cut him off.
"No. What would make this easier would be having a friend who shows up at my appointments when he says he's going to. Who has my back up there," Rhodey pointed in the general direction of the med bay. "And not down here. Who is willing to work with me to get to a place where this is manageable, instead of beating himself up over a past he can't change, and making me do all the emotional heavy lifting to make him feel better. Got that? And close your jaw."
Tony snapped his mouth closed. "I didn't realize. I'm...I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well. Just be there from now on, okay?" Rhodey shifted in the braces, wincing. "Yep, alright, I do have some feedback. Help me take them off?"
Tony helped him down into a seating position, beginning the process of removing the braces. "This will get faster too," he promised. "You should have seen the removal process for the earlier Iron Man suits."
"I did. Pepper kept footage." Rhodey winced as the first leg came off, making Tony freeze. "I'm alright. My back's just a bit aggravated from being hauled around by gunmen in masks with freaky needles, you know. The usual."
"I'm sor—"
"Nope. Not what I need. And that one was definitely not your fault."
Tony removed the rest of the device with the utmost care, careful not to jostle Rhodey's back any more than necessary. "Did they really make it worse?"
"It just means a few extra appointments over the next couple of weeks. Make sure it's healing, getting it back on track."
Tony chewed on his lip, placing the braces to one side. "You want me to be there? Help out a bit?"
"Only if you promise to leave the guilt at home." Rhodey shuffled back against the workbench, Tony reaching forward to help him into a sitting position. "I'm adjusting, but those sessions can still be...a lot. I want you there, but I don't need you adding emotional weight. I'm going to say this one more time, so you can remember it instead of me having to repeat myself when I have other things to focus on. It's not your fault. Got it?"
It took Tony a moment before he admitted, "Not really. But I'll work on it. In my own time—not yours."
"Thanks, Tones. And what happened with those guys? Don't blame you for that either. The strongest grudge I'm holding is for when I turned up to my graduation so hungover I barely made it across the stage, because someone didn't know when it was time to go home.”
Tony slid up next to Rhodey, giving him someone to lean on. “I would like the jury to know that I did not make you do a single thing you didn’t want to.”
Rhodey gestured with his hands in a passable impression of Tony. “One drink, Rhodes! It’ll be fun!”
“It was fun!” Tony protested. "That was a great night!”
“Says you. I barely remember it.”
“Then you’re just going to have to trust me, aren’t you?”
Rhodey smiled at him. “I do, you know. Trust you.”
Tony nudged their shoulders together. “Will you back off with that? You have exceeded my quota for mushy talk for the day. No, the week. Try again next Wednesday. FRIDAY will pencil you in.”
“No, she won’t.”
Tony grinned. “No, she won’t. But what you told me today...has been noted. And will be worked on. So,” Tony added, voice all mock-innocence. “You want to grab a drink?”
“Tony. No.”
“One drink, Rhodes.”
“It’s never just one drink with you.”
“This time it is. Trust me? You said you did.”
"That's low."
"And I think that's a yes. FRIDAY, did that sound like a yes to you?"
"I am not involving myself in this conversation."
Rhodey laughed. "Well, at least one of us is going to be sensible." He slipped his hand into Tony's, giving it a squeeze. "Alright. Help me up and get my chair—let's go get a drink."