Chapter Text
"Maybe I should take a page out of Barton's book. Build Pepper a farm. Hope nobody blows it up."
The words lingered in the back of Tony's head the whole back to New York. Even later, when he was holed up in his workshop and carefully putting JARVIS back together, it was impossible to lose himself entirely in the process the way he really wanted to. Just a couple of throw away, innocent sentences, but of course Steve hadn't noticed anything weird about them.
Why would he? It sounded like a reasonable enough dream, all things considered. A wife, couple kids, white picket fence... it was the kind of dream that superheroes all around the world worked towards. Except Tony didn't have a house. Or kids. Or a wife. Or even a girlfriend, for that matter, and the fact that Steve had just smiled, hadn't even realized what a weird thing that was for him to say, spoke volumes about how much of a team they really weren't.
Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, and ran his hands through his greasy hair. The code was only halfway finished. It was deliberately convoluted, and this time it had to be built from the ground up. It was only the fact that he knew JARVIS' code better than he knew himself that made it a possibility in the first place, and then only if he truly focused. With effort, he shoved the events of the past week out of his head and concentrated.
It still took him the better part of the next three days, but it was all worth it. The relief that shot through him when the code came together and the lights overhead flickered as JARVIS took control again couldn't have been put into words. Piloting the suit without the voice of JARVIS in his ear had left him feeling wrong-footed, uncertain and second guessing his every move. He looked up at the ceiling, waiting a beat to make sure that JARVIS had had the chance to recalibrate, and then offered a cautious, "Hey buddy."
"Hello, sir."
Thank fuck. Tony wasn't crying, but there might have been a few spots of wet on his face. "Good to hear your voice again, J. I almost got slack. There's been no one to tell Pepper I'm busy."
"I take that to mean you haven't bothered answering your phone calls at all," JARVIS said, and then, "The last message Miss Potts left you indicates that it will take more than a pair of shoes to earn back her good will this time."
Tony laughed a little, punch drunk with relief and giddiness. "That's fine. Pep didn't really want anything. Just... company stuff." That's all it ever was, ever since she'd found him in the workshop building another suit. The fight was brief but explosive. She couldn't deal with him being Iron Man, and he'd made a promise that he couldn't keep. No matter how many times he walked away, the suit was like a siren.
Well, that and something else. Or, actually, someone else, not that it mattered because the end result was the same: a very amicable break up that felt so much worse than it would have if she'd screamed and thrown things and not spoken to him for months.
It had been nearly three months and he still hadn't said a word to anyone yet. The explanations he doled out like candy - she's got a thing to attend for the company, she's busy, being a CEO takes a lot of work, you know - were never questioned, because why would they be? Surely if Tony Stark had a break up, it would be splashed across the news for everyone to see. And when it came right down to it, he wasn't sure who to tell. He wasn't sure anyone cared enough to listen.
"Actually, sir, the messages indicate that Miss Potts wishes to talk to you about the Maria Stark Foundation."
Oh, right. Tony winced at the memory of all the damage he and Hulk had done. "Order Pepper two new pairs of shoes and a bouquet of flowers, please," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. The room swam and he staggered, nearly falling over as the effects of several days without sleep or food caught up with him all at once. Dummy whirred anxiously, pinching his jeans to help keep him upright. He caught his balance against the wall and reached down to stroke Dummy's arm in thanks.
"Are you alright? Shall I call -"
"No, God no, don't call anyone," Tony said. There was no one to call. Rhodey was gone, at work with Steve and the others, and Pepper was more likely to yell at him than help. "Actually, J... start a search for the Hulk, would you? I want to find Bruce and make sure that he's okay."
"Yes sir."
"Good man," Tony muttered, stumbling across the room to the old couch. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as his bed, but it was a hell of a lot closer. He collapsed onto it face first and passed out.
He slept like the dead for about six hours, until a nightmare of Steve's dead face jerked him awake. JARVIS spoke to him soothingly until his breathing slowed and his heart stopped feeling like it was going to pound right out of his chest. Tony sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead. He had a headache and his stomach was so empty that it actually hurt. When it started to growl, Dummy chirped at him anxiously and prodded his hand with a granola bar. Reluctantly, Tony took it and bit into it. It was dry and tasteless, but filling and would do the job.
"That's what you're eating. A granola bar. Quite the celebration."
He spit out the bite of granola bar, garbling, "Son of a fucking - "
"Language, as your Captain would say."
"I get to say whatever the fuck I want, this is my house, how did you get in here? Jarvis, what the hell?" Tony spit out, one hand clasped to his chest.
"Director Fury had override protocols, sir."
Fury smirked at Tony, though he spoke to JARVIS. "Technically, I'm not a director anymore."
"My apologies, Director Fury, but 'Mr. Fury' just doesn't sound correct."
"I like your A.I. He has better taste than you do," Fury said.
Tony scowled. "Everyone likes JARVIS better than me. I repeat, what the fuck are you doing here?"
"That's actually what I wanted to ask you." Fury walked casually across the room, like he had every right to be there, and peered up at the scans that JARVIS was running. "Why did you leave? Why did you let your team leave?"
"Uh, I believe we've been over this, I'm not the boss. I know Maria reported that conversation to you word for word."
Fury shot him a look.
"It wasn't my decision. Bruce went AWOL. Thor left for Asgard," Tony said, crossing his arms defensively. "Clint went home. But Steve and Natasha are still playing nice. You know what, I bet they'd love to see you. Go bother them."
"That why you left? You didn't think they wanted to see you?"
It took a lot of effort to keep from wincing. "Maybe I don't want to see them."
"Right, that's why JARVIS is running a trace on all five of them. Because you don't want to see them."
"What?" Tony threw the rest of the granola bar aside, ignoring Dummy's distressed chirp, and went to look at the screen himself. He had no memory of asking for JARVIS to run traces on the rest of the team. But he vividly remembered the nightmares he'd been having recently, all based around the Avengers dying. He must have called out their names in his sleep, and JARVIS had responded accordingly. Awkward.
"Look, Stark -"
"So we're back to that?"
Fury sighed and rolled his eye in an incredibly patronizing way. "Tony," he said with exaggerated, forced patience. "I didn't spend thousands of dollars and stake my reputation on the Avengers Initiative just so that I could watch a bunch of motherfucking children play the world's longest game of hide and seek. Go collect your team. Take them home. And stay there."
"I retired," Tony pointed out. "Just in case you didn't notice. So did Barton."
"You should know better than to take things at face value," said Fury. "Besides, how long did you really think it would be before you hack the new facility?" He raised an eyebrow. "One week? Two? I wonder if JARVIS would tell me if he's already started the process -"
"You're not the director of me," Tony said quickly, because that was a question he did not wanting his traitor of an A.I. answering. But that hadn't worked the first time and he doubted it would work this time, and when Fury snorted his point was proven.
"So you think. And while you're at it, stop dancing around Rogers and just fuck him already."
Tony actually sputtered, his face burning hot.
Fury just laughed at him. "Locking yourself up in this tower won't do anyone any good, and if I have to listen to Natasha complain about you and Rogers staring longingly into each other's eyes for another minute, I'll lock you in a closet myself."
"That's - we're not - I - you - she's -"
"I'll leave you Barton's location, and, if SHIELD finds Banner before you do, I'll let you know," Fury said, mercifully cutting him off before Tony could embarrass himself further. "Go home, Tony."