Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When the email came, Jane was holed up in her lab. Actually, she was peering through a microscope. That wasn't something she did very often, but in this case she was looking at a sample of her own blood while comparing it to Darcy's. It was part of an eight-week long observational experiment, during which she was noting the differences and trying hard not to freak out even more than she already had.

"Jane! You're never going to believe it!"

"I've been nominated for the Nobel Prize?" Jane said, not lifting her head. "Yes, Darcy, I know. I might be a little absent-minded, but even I would remember -"

"No! Well, yes. You did do that," Darcy said, and she sounded so proud that Jane to smile. She straightened up and turned to face Darcy.

"If not that, then what?"

"We - well, you just got an email from Tony Stark."

"Stark?" Jane mouthed the name, puzzled. "Why is that so exciting?" She and Stark had exchanged several emails, mostly on the subjects of Asgard and magic and the bridge. He was one of the few who could actually talk about it with some degree of understanding, since, even though he'd never been there, he had been up close and personal with mjolnir, Loki and Thor multiple times.

Actually, it was Stark who had first told Jane that Thor had left again. Her response had been less than gracious. She'd slammed her laptop shut in a rage and - now that she thought about it - she hadn't ever gotten around to answering that last email. But to be fair, her hands had been glowing with black light for the better part of a week and it was usually better if she didn't touch anything when that happened.

"He wants us to come live with him."

"What?" Jane exclaimed.

"See for yourself." Darcy turned her tablet around so that Jane could see the screen. She took a step back when Jane tried to take it, shaking her head. "Nuh uh. Look with your eyes, not your hands. I like this tablet."

"I'm not that bad," Jane huffed.

"You broke the coffee maker just by glaring at it two days ago," Darcy said, not without sympathy. "I would hate to have to kill you because you did the same thing to my tablet."

Jane sighed, rolling her eyes, but kept her hands to herself. She scanned the email quickly. It was short and to the point, offering a room at Stark Tower. It didn't come right out in so many words and call the tower a safe house, but that was the feeling Jane was left with. She frowned.

"Do you think we're in danger?" Darcy asked.

"I don't know. I wouldn't think so, but..." Jane flexed her fingers. They ached sometimes with that pins-and-needles feeling you get when a body part falls asleep. It was usually the prelude to something exploding. Whatever else the experience of being possessed by the Aether had left her, this had to be the most aggravating part.

"But Thor isn't here, and everyone knows you guys are lovers," Darcy finished.

"Were."

"Were?"

"He's not here right now, so were," Jane said waspishly, and oh yeah - there came the glow. She wouldn't be getting any more work done today.

"Okay," Darcy muttered. "Well, everyone knows you were lovers. And Thor was an avenger. Even if he wasn't a part of all that fighting, I guess there is a possibility someone could come after us." She didn't sound very happy at the idea. Not that Jane could blame her.

"I guess the idea has merit. It would be cheaper, at any rate," Jane muttered. The sad thing was, being an astrophysicist didn't always pay the bills. She and Darcy didn't eat very much, but their grocery bill still hadn't fully recovered from the time that Thor had spent with them.

Before he left. Without saying goodbye.

Her hands flared brighter and the microscope exploded.

Darcy dove for cover. Jane just stood there, blinking in surprise, as a thin plume of smoke rose from the wreckage and drifted towards the ceiling. The dark light around her hands faded away as though it had never been.

"Oops?" she said sheepishly.

"I don't think Stark would be very happy about you exploding stuff," Darcy said, a little muffled because she was still hiding behind the desk.

Jane looked at her hands. There didn't seem to be much rhyme or reason to when the light appeared - except for when she was mad at Thor, it always came then. But there were plenty of times when she'd tried to will it to appear and it wouldn't. If someone tried to attack her and Darcy, Jane wouldn't be able to protect them.

Maybe Stark could help her figure it out. Or at the very least, he might be able to offer her somewhere she could practice that wouldn't result in the loss of electronics they couldn't afford to replace. Not to mention, one of these days she was worried that Darcy was going to get caught in the crossfire. It was inevitable, mostly because in the cramped bachelor apartment they were sharing, there wasn't much space.

"He sent us the invite. He'll get over it," Jane said.

"Apparently he thought you'd feel that way, because he attached two plane tickets to the email."

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning at 10."

"I can't decide if that's arrogant or hopeful," Jane said. "It's also not enough time to pack."

"According to the email, Stark says that our stuff will be packed up and moved on his dime. All we have to bring is ourselves."

Jane raised her eyebrows. It sounded a little too good to be true. But Darcy was excited, so she bit her tongue and just packed a suitcase with the most important stuff. Then Darcy figured out that Jane hadn't packed any clothing at all and made her unpack and re-pack with some clothes. No matter how much Jane tried to convince her that clothing just took up valuable real estate, Darcy refused to budge.

Needless to say, they were both tired and cranky by the time they got to the airport. The flight was actually pretty short, which was a shame because Tony Stark's private jet was really something. Darcy took full advantage of the stocked bar. Jane just sat on her hands and tried really hard not to explode anything.

When they landed, Stark himself was there to greet them at the airport. He pulled down his sunglasses as Jane approached him and smiled formally. "Dr. Foster. Pleased to meet you."

"I brought my assistant along. She goes where I go," Jane said, because she'd run into this before. People seemed to think Darcy's presence was negotiable and it wasn't. Especially now.

Stark's smile didn't change. "I know. That's why there were two tickets. Ms. Lewis," he added, as Darcy came up beside Jane, still holding a cocktail glass with a little umbrella in it.

Darcy squinted at him. "Is is true that you can do anything with electronics?"

"I like to think so."

"Can you pimp out my tasers? I really want to tase Thor's ass for leaving Jane if he comes back."

"Darcy!" Jane exclaimed.

Stark actually grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

Chapter Text

Her new taser was awesome. Darcy grinned wickedly as she pressed the button again. Thirty seconds later, a robot collapsed to the ground, twitching and smoking. With a twist of her wrist, the prongs returned to the taser and she slipped it into her pocket. Tony hadn't been kidding: it was way stronger and she could tase up to ten people with a single charge. The next loser that tried to grope her in public wasn't going to know what hit them.

"Perfect," she said under her breath, surveying the quiet ruin of robots around her. She was pretty sure that someone would come in and collect the robots, then take them down to Tony's workshop to be repaired. Either that, or Tony had an endless supply of robots that all looked identical and were designed purely to be destroyed by whoever was training.

Speaking of training... she glanced at her watch and realized it was past midnight. She'd been in here for a while. Her stomach grumbled; no wonder, since she'd missed supper playing with her new taser. Darcy left the room and took the elevator up to the main floor. There hadn't been much food in the refrigerator when she and Jane arrived, but FRIDAY had put in a full grocery order. The thought of a grilled cheese sandwich lured her into the kitchen.

She flipped on the light without thinking. Tony jumped, dropping his mug on the floor. Coffee and bits of ceramic flew in all directions. For a moment, they both stared down at the mess before Tony sighed. He started to kneel down.

"Don't move!" Darcy yelled and he froze, staring at her like she'd lost her mind. Darcy pointed at him. "Are you crazy? Stay there. You're not even wearing shoes. The last thing we need is for you to cut yourself on something."

"Superhero, remember? A little cut is the last thing I'm concerned about," Tony said.

"I said stay and I meant it," Darcy snapped. She tiptoed through the worst of the mess and crouched, collecting the biggest shards. By the time she'd done that, a little robot vacuum cleaner was humming around her feet, sucking up what was left. Darcy let it work until the pieces of mug were gone, then shooed it away and wiped up the remaining coffee with a rag. The floor would probably need a thorough washing, but that would do for now.

Tony had backed off while she was cleaning up; he eyed her warily, since she was standing between him and the coffee maker, and said, "You're bossy."

"And you're cut off," Darcy said. "I think you've had enough caffeine."

"There's no such thing."

"I beg to differ," she said, giving him a skeptical look. She didn't know many people who would react like that just because someone had turned a light on. "I'll make you a grilled cheese instead."

"You don't have to -"

"I know, that's why I offered. Sit," she added, gesturing to a chair, and didn't know who was more surprised when Tony actually obeyed.

Oh well. She was used to feeding two people, given that Jane probably would've starved to death a long time ago if Darcy wasn't around to shove food under her nose on a regular basis. What was another scientist in the long run? It just meant she'd be putting food in front of two people, not one. Hardly the end of the world, considering that Tony was letting them stay in the tower for free.

She whipped up a couple of her special grilled cheese - the secret was to use at least two kinds of cheese, salt and pepper, and a dash of garlic powder - and slapped them in the frying pan. While they were cooking, she said, "Thanks a lot for the taser. It works great."

"Oh. You're welcome."

"I especially like that I can use it so many times before charging it," she went on, glancing over her shoulder.

"You're a little bit blood thirsty," Tony said.

"I just know a lot of guys who deserve to be tasered," Darcy said.

"Hopefully I'm not one of them."

A little surprised, Darcy flipped both sandwiches onto plates and sat at the table across from him. "No, of course not. I don't usually taser people who give me an amazing room in a tower."

"No, just gods."

"Gods who Jane hits with her car," Darcy corrected, and he snorted.

He picked up half the sandwich and took a bite. "This is good."

"You don't have to sound so shocked. Jane can't cook to save her life, and you get tired of ramen or fast food pretty quickly."

"I know."

Yeah, he probably did. Darcy hadn't missed the original collection of take-out cartons in the refrigerator. They were all replaced with real food now. Don't get her wrong, she loved a good pizza as much as the next girl. But sometimes there was just no substitute for a home-cooked meal, even if it was just a can of soup that you added water to and stuck in the microwave.

"I'm no master in the kitchen," she said, "but I can make a couple of decent meals."

He paused midway through taking another bite. "You don't have to cook just to stay here, you know. That's not why I asked you to come. I really did think that Ross -"

"Dude, this isn't Cinderella. Eat your sandwich," Darcy said, hardly able to believe that she was having this conversation. "And then tell me what your plan is for dealing with this guy. Your tower is awesome, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life indoors."

"I don't have a plan at the moment," Tony admitted. "Right now, I'm pretty much in 'figure out who might bear the brunt of his anger and get them out of harm's way' mode. I'll probably be in and out of the tower over the next month or so. Not everyone is local."

"Right," Darcy said. She wondered, but didn't ask, who would protect Tony from the brunt of Ross's anger. "And then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you plan to do once you've achieved that step? Make up with the other Avengers?" She knew that was a mistake as soon as she said it. She could practically see the shutters slamming closed. The smile slid off his face and Tony's expression went completely blank.

"Thanks for the sandwich," he said, stuffing the rest into his mouth. He stood up and headed out the door, leaving Darcy with the feeling that she had monumentally fucked up. Right, so mentioning the other Avengers was completely off limits. She guessed she should have known that. All the same, it probably wouldn't hurt to mention that to Jane or anyone else who came into the tower. No sense in alienating Tony completely.

She looked down at the remains of her sandwich and sighed. "At least he didn't take another cup of coffee with him."

Chapter Text

There was someone snooping around outside. Laura leaned back on her heels, eyes locked on the curtains. She'd switched off the lights at the first inkling that something might be wrong, but the automatic lights out in the yard still worked and that meant the field was flooded with light. Whoever it was must have been brave enough - or stupid enough, depending - to not be scared off by that because she could see a shadow passing by the window.

Her heart was beating fast, but she felt very calm as she lifted the gun and gently applied pressure to the trigger. Another quarter of an inch and she'd shoot, no questions asked. Thank god for SHIELD-issue guns that were completely silent even when being fired. Hardest part would be getting the patio clean before the kids woke up.

Whoever it was knocked lightly. Then a slightly familiar voice said, "Laura? Are you in there? It's me, Tony Stark."

Tony Stark. Laura blinked. "Open the door," she said. "Slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them."

After a pause, the man on the other side did as ordered. The door swung open slowly. Laura tensed, half-expecting to be attacked, but instead Tony stood there with his hands in the air. He twitched visibly when he saw that she was holding a gun aloft, but - to his credit - didn't take off running in the opposite direction. Instead, he just looked at her. She stared back at him, waiting - prepared to wait all night if she had to. Tony seemed to get that, because he took a deep breath and started talking.

"I know you probably hate me right now. I get that. I'm probably the last person you want to see. But I'm here because your family is in danger. General Ross wants to question you to find out if you know where Clint is. He has a warrant to detain you and kids for an undetermined amount of time, and I'm sure you know as well as I do that it won't be a comfortable experience." His jaw tightened slightly, maybe in reaction to her tiny jerk at the idea of anyone harming her babies. "We only have about fifteen minutes, maybe less, before they show up. You can shoot me if you want, but I guarantee you won't be able to shoot everyone who shows up with Ross."

As far as Laura could tell, he was telling the truth. And she didn't see any reason for him to lie. She lowered the gun. "Clint and I have safe houses, but we'll need a ride."

"I can give you a ride," Tony said without hesitation. "Or..."

"Or?"

"You can come to Stark Tower if you want. I can protect you there. Or at least try."

That was a step further than Laura had expected, though maybe she should have seen that coming. Clint and Natasha had told her a lot about the Avengers. Their collective opinion of Tony Stark had been pretty dismal to start with, but gradually that had changed as the team grew closer. Laura probably knew way more about Tony than he expected, mostly because Natasha had surprisingly loose lips when she was a) in a place where she was comfortable and b) drunk. Actually getting to meet the team, even in the wake of a disaster that had left them all shaken, had helped cement her opinion.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Tony repeated, stunned. He clearly hadn't expected that quick of an agreement.

"I said okay. Our safe houses haven't been visited for a while. I got lazy," Laura said with a humorless smile. She and Clint both; she was pretty sure neither of them had visited the safe houses in a while, which meant they could've become compromised and - if they were still viable - probably had zero edible food. After SHIELD fell, there just didn't seem to be a point. Coulson would've yelled at them both if he'd known. If he'd still been around to care.

"Right," Tony said, and then, "Where are the kids?"

"In bed? It's after midnight."

"Oh," Tony said, as though he hadn't realized that, and maybe he hadn't. He didn't look like someone who slept regularly.

"You get Lila and Cooper, I'll get Nate," Laura said.

"Uh, okay."

Nate had only gone to bed a couple of hours ago. He was teething and had difficulty sleeping thanks to the pain. Laura hooked the carrier around her and then lifted him carefully, cradling him in her arms. He whimpered, peering up at her with eyes the same color as Clint's. Her heart twisted. She hated to do this to him, but if Nate started to cry and anyone heard them, the results would not be pretty. Murmuring to him, letting him hear the sound of her voice, she stepped into the bathroom and jammed a hand into the top drawer, feeling around until she found what she was looking for.

The sedative was in liquid form, odorless and tasteless and safe for newborns, but Laura still hated her husband as she squeezed three drops into Nate's mouth. She hated him fiercely for bringing their family into this mess. For answering Captain America's call, for not staying here with them after he'd promised her that he would retire from the team because it was just getting too dangerous. Maybe there still would've been danger even if Clint had stayed out of it, but at least then he would've been here to protect them.

"Laura?" Tony sounded so shocked behind her. It was kind of adorable.

"He won't cry this way," she said, biting the inside of her cheek to hold the tears at bay. Indeed, after a huge yawn Nate's eyes fluttered shut and his body relaxed into sleep. She slipped him into the carrier, letting him rest against the curve of her belly, and turned to face Tony. He was holding Lila on his hip. Cooper was standing beside him, rubbing his eyes. He was, she was pleased to see, holding his and Lila's special backpacks, the ones she and Clint had helped the kids pack a long time ago for just such an occasion. That was her good boy.

"Mom, what's going on?" Cooper asked sleepily.

"Shh, baby. We have to leave."

Cooper frowned, clearly wanting to ask questions, but refrained when he saw the look on her face. The five of them went down the stairs and outside after Laura shut off the automatic lights; it was cool, but the air was too still. Tony hurried them across the wide expanse of the now-dark lawn, and that was all wrong. In the silence, Laura heard the sound of breaking glass.

"Mom?" Cooper said, nervous now.

"Keep going," Laura hissed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move. Tony started to react, but Laura was way ahead of him. Her hand came up and she fired, an automatic movement that was as easy as breathing. The soldier jerked and fell soundlessly, a perfect shot right between his eyes. Cooper and Tony stared at her with identical shocked expressions. She glared back and jerked her chin.

On the plane, safe in the air, Tony said, "How the hell...?"

"My maiden name was Bishop," Laura said without looking at him. "I used to go by my middle name, Kate. You should look me up sometime. It might surprise you, what a stay-at-home mom can do."

And then she went to go change her youngest son's diaper.

Chapter Text

“I’d like to speak with Tony Stark.”

The receptionist of Stark Tower glanced up from her computer with raised eyebrows. Said eyebrows rose even higher when she actually got a good look at Betty. Betty set her jaw, undeterred, and stared the woman down. It had taken her a long time to get up the courage to come here. She wasn’t leaving until she either saw Stark or caused one hell of a scene.

“I’m afraid that Mr. Stark isn’t in the office today,” the receptionist said finally. “If you’d like to make an appointment, we’re looking at October of next year.”

“Call him,” Betty said. “Tell him it’s Betty Ross. I guarantee that he will want to speak with me.”

Evidently the receptionist recognized the name ‘Ross’ because she didn’t call security and have Betty kicked out on her ass. Instead, she picked up the phone, dialed a number and started whispering into it, half-turning away from Betty. After a couple of minutes, during which her expression flattened out into an unhappy stare, she hung up the phone and sat there for a moment. Then she sighed deeply.

“The elevator will take you where to go,” she said, levering Betty with an unimpressed look as she pressed the button to open the door.

“Thank you,” Betty said, because she could still be polite, and stepped through the door. There was a row of elevators behind the desk; she walked to the one the receptionist had indicated. As soon as she was inside, the doors swept shut behind her and the elevator rose. She kept an eye on the numbers, a little surprised when she shot past floor fifty. Then sixty. Then seventy. Well past the floors that Stark Industries occupied.

When the doors opened at last, she was facing a large, tastefully decorated room. The windows had a stunning view, but Betty was more preoccupied with the lone man standing there. It was Stark, she realized, looking out at the view, but the grease smears on his clothing and hands suggested that he hadn’t been there long.

“Dr. Ross,” he said, breaking the silence, and turned to look at her. “Welcome to Stark Tower.”

“Mr. Stark,” Betty said with a nod. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too. What brings you to my abode?”

“It’s been a visit a long time coming,” Betty replied. It was the truth. She’d intended to come before: it was no secret that Stark Tower – then Avengers Tower, but she didn’t think Stark would like it if she called it that – had housed Bruce Banner for months. She hadn’t, though. She was still too angry, and knowing that Bruce wouldn’t have understood the reason for her anger only made it worse. She kind of regretted that now, if only because she'd missed her chance to yell in his face.

Stark nodded slowly. “I see. If you’re looking for Bruce, I don’t know where he is.”

He knew who she was, then. Good. “I wasn’t. I know he’s not here. Frankly, I’m glad he’s not. If he knew you’d been consorting with General Ross, New York would be missing a few more buildings.”

It was a cheap shot. Stark still winced. He said, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“No, you don’t,” Betty agreed.

“If it’s not Bruce, then why are you here?”

The truth was, Betty didn’t know. She’d followed the news stories for weeks now, learning everything about her father and what he’d done. The general public might have believed that his actions had been done with the intention of protecting people, but Betty knew better. Ross didn’t care about people. Not really. He liked power and he didn’t like superheroes – maybe because of the Hulk, maybe because they had more power than him, maybe all of the above. It didn’t matter. The point was, Ross had succeeded in helping to tear the Avengers apart.

Maybe she’d come here to warn him, to warn Tony Stark, that he would be next.

As though Stark had somehow heard those unspoken words, he sighed. “Look, I know your father isn’t –”

“Don’t call him that. He’s not my father,” Betty said firmly.

Stark considered her for a moment. “Fair enough. I didn’t like my father much either,” he said with a small smile. “I know General Ross can’t be trusted. I didn’t want to partner with him in the first place. But if not him, then it would have been someone else.”

“You would’ve been better off with someone else,” she said, and Stark laughed.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that now. Unfortunately, it’s too late and I can’t change what’s been done.” He sounded, just for a second, intensely bitter.

“He tends to have that effect on people,” she offered. She didn’t know what prompted her to say it, but the words rolled out anyway. “I know how he works. We lost contact about three years ago, but I have a whole lifetime of putting up with him.”

“Are you offering to help?” Stark asked, not surprised, not condescending, just neutral.

“I’m sick of sneaking around and not getting anywhere with my work.”

“And what is it you’re working on?”

“Gamma radiation.”

“You want to reverse the Hulk.”

“I wanted to help Bruce learn to control it,” she corrected. “I still think it could be done if he wasn’t so stubborn.”

Stark looked at her like she’d said something revolutionary. “You’re the only other person I’ve ever met that didn’t immediately think the Hulk was a monster that needed to be stopped.”

Betty shrugged, folding her arms, remembering that night in the cave and Bruce’s pessimism. His determination that he would remove the Hulk entirely. She’d never understood that, not really, especially not after watching the Hulk had done during the Battle of New York. He’d slaughtered hundreds of those aliens, saving thousands of humans in the process. And still.

“The bottom line, Mr. Stark,” she said slowly, “is that I’m very tired of letting the men around me dictate my life and decide what’s best for me. I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions. I could have walked away a long time ago, but I didn’t. I’d like to help you mitigate the damage that’s been done if I can. If not, I’d appreciate it if you tell me now so neither of us wastes any more time.”

He kept looking at her, eyes narrowed. “You have a background in cellular biology, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Stark nodded. “I think you can definitely be of help, Dr. Ross,” he said. “I have a couple of friends that I would like you to look at. They’ve recently undergone some changes that rendered their genetic makeup somewhat unstable. You may have some ideas on how to change that.”

“Unstable like the Hulk? Radiation?”

Stark smiled a little. “In one case yes, kind of. In the other case, not in the slightest. Tell me, what do you know about magic?”

Chapter Text

Hands down one of the worst parts of dealing with the board was meetings like these. The smile remained frozen on Hope's face long after the rest of the board had filed out of the restaurant - probably to go pat each other on the back like the kings of the world. If this were the 1930s, they'd be retiring to a private room to smoke and share brandies. Either way, Hope wasn't invited. Not that she really wanted to be. She could only take so much ego and arrogance in one day before the urge to punch someone in the face became too strong.

The waitress dropped by, her smile slowly disappearing as she took in the wreck of the table, but she was still polite when she said to Hope, "Can I get you anything else?"

"Strawberry daiquiri," Hope said, because why the fuck not. No one else was around, so there was no point in saving face by sticking to a glass of wine. "And I apologize for the state of the table. I promise I plan to leave you a hefty tip to make up for it."

"Make that two," someone said behind the waitress. "But make mine a virgin, please."

Hope didn't frown outright, but she certainly wasn't pleased as Tony Stark took a seat across from her without asking. Stark looked up and down the table, his eyebrows slowly lifting as he took in the mess: food everywhere, including on the floor, dishes stacked haphazardly, empty bottles of beer and wine left where they fell, and no tip even though the board meeting had lasted for a good three hours.

"You should totally fire all of those guys," he said finally.

"Believe me, I'd love to," Hope said, giving the waitress a nod. "Sadly, that's not really my job. What are you doing here, Stark?"

"Call me Tony."

"I asked you a question, Stark."

He sighed, but didn't push the issue. "I have reason to think that you might be in danger."

Hope sat back at that, looking at him closely. Now that she was paying attention, Stark didn't look that great. There were heavy circles under his eyes, and his skin was sallow and limp. His hands shook a little, and when he noticed that she was looking, he slid them off the table and into his lap where she couldn't see. Even his clothing wasn't up to his usual caliber; he was wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, but she was pretty sure she could see a smear of grease near the right elbow.

"Does this have anything to do with the civil war?" she asked at last. She'd been following the news very closely, particularly because of Scott's involvement in the matter. That idiot. She got mad all over again just thinking about it. How dare he use something that belonged to Pym Technologies in such a high-profile event without express permission? So far the media didn't seem to have made the connection. Hope was still trying to decide whether her father's way of handling the situation - stay quiet and hope that word never got out - was the best one.

Stark winced at the name. "Yes. General Ross is out for blood. I've managed to stay a couple steps ahead of him so far. Clint Barton's family has been moved to Stark Tower, and I plan to follow up very soon with Scott's family. I want them all out of the line of fire, where they'll be as safe as I can manage without actually getting them out of the country. I wanted to extend the same invitation to you."

Speechless, she stared at him. The waitress chose that moment to bring over their drinks, and Hope was grateful for the timing because she needed something strong. She grabbed her cocktail and took a hefty drink as an excuse not to speak until she could decide what she wanted to say. The Pym and Stark families had very little to do with each other. Her father loathed Howard Stark with everything that he was, and he had never once spoken a positive word about Tony Stark either. As far as Hank was concerned, the Stark family wasn't worth the air they breathed, and couldn't be trusted at all.

As the silence dragged on, Stark fidgeted a little. "Look, I know this seems really out of the blue. We've never spoken before and our families kind of have this feud going on. But -"

"If you're trying to suggest that we're star-crossed lovers, I will fry your ass," Hope said.

Stark blinked in surprise. Then he grinned. "No. I'm afraid I'm taken."

That was news. Hope wondered what the public would think of that. She said, "Why are you offering it to me? You hate me."

"I am not my father," Stark said, almost too sharply. "I don't even know you. I can't hate someone I know nothing about. You're just a regular person, Ms. Van Dyne, and you got caught up in something dangerous just by association. I don't want to see anyone else get hurt if I can do something about it."

In spite of herself, those words resonated with Hope. How many times had she told her father that she was not her mother? Too many to count. It still hadn't sunk in yet, and she was pretty sure he had only given her the Wasp suit because Scott was such an idiot. If he'd just done that in the first place, they wouldn't be in their current mess and Hope wouldn't be sitting here having a drink with Tony Stark. She'd learned a long time ago that the past could sometimes be more trouble than it was worth.

"I'm not my father, either," Hope said. "I appreciate your offer, but I have my own way of protecting myself." She didn't hesitate to unbutton her shirt, giving him a glimpse of the yellow and black uniform she wore underneath.

His eyes widened a little, but other than that he didn't react. If anything, his expression melted into relief too quickly. "You should make sure you wear that all the time. And that your father has a similar method of protection. I know from experience that Ross's methods can be ruthless when he wants something. He wouldn't hesitate to deal with anyone who was standing in his way."

Even you? The question was on the tip of Hope's tongue, but she swallowed it before it could escape. It wasn't her place. Out loud, she said, "Thank you. Maybe we could have dinner at some point in the near future. I don't know you very well, Mr. Stark. I've heard it's always good to get to know your allies."

"Of course," he said, looking surprised. "I could invite Miss Potts as well. My CEO. She may have some... advice." He gave a significant glance towards the table.

Her father would be furious. Hope smiled. "That," she said, "sounds lovely." And she meant it.

Chapter Text

The day that she and Jim were supposed to get married, Maggie woke up early and tiptoed into Cassie's room. She stood there for a while, leaning against the door, just watching Cassie sleep. She heard Jim get up and move through the house, getting ready for work. Just before he left, he came to Cassie's room and - not saying a word - kissed Maggie on the cheek. He blew a kiss in Cassie's direction and left.

It was almost 9am. Maggie was supposed to be getting her hair done right now. She'd planned it all out, right down to the last detail. Her hair would've been pinned up and curled, while Cassie's would've been left down. Cassie had begged to be allowed to wear a little make-up, and Maggie had conceded. She closed her eyes, picturing her gown and Cassie's adorable blue dress.

Damn Scott.

"Just had to go and be a hero," Maggie muttered, slipping away from Cassie's door as quietly as she'd come. She went downstairs. Jim had left her a couple of cups of coffee, and Maggie poured herself one.

Then she poured a second.

At 9am on the dot, someone knocked on the door.

"It's open," Maggie called. There was a time, not that long ago, when she would've laughed if someone had told her that she would be serving Tony Stark coffee in her kitchen. But that was before she got the first email yesterday. Before she realized that Scott's actions had much further reaching consequences that she'd anticipated.

Stark edged into the room behind her. He was wearing sunglasses and a suit, and he looked so out of place that it instantly made Maggie feel more comfortable. She gestured to the table and sat down herself, adding a little sugar to her coffee. Stark sat down more slowly, glancing around as though he expected something to bite. When she offered him the second mug, he took it very carefully and pushed his sunglasses up.

"Thanks for meeting with me," he said finally, looking at her. That was one heck of a forceful gaze.

"From the sound of it, I should be thanking you if what you've told me is the truth," said Maggie. "But the thing is, I'm just not sure I believe what you're telling me. Scott is my ex-husband. I haven't seen him since before this whole civil war thing happened. Why would anyone think that I knew where he was?"

"They're desperate," Stark said simply. "And when powerful men get desperate, they get stupid."

Which was fair enough, but still. "I just don't feel right about uprooting Cassie right now. I appreciate what you're saying, but she's struggling a lot."

To say the least. It tore Maggie up inside to lay awake at night and listen to the sound of her daughter crying. Cassie was just old enough to ask the really complicated questions about why Scott wasn't visiting her anymore. She'd seen the news at school and couldn't understand why some people would calling her father a bad guy when, last time Scott had put on the Ant-Man suit, he'd been a hero who saved her life.

"I get that," Stark said, nodding. He took a sip of coffee. His hands were trembling a little, she noticed. "The thing is, I guarantee you that someone will come for you. I don't know when. I wish I did. It could be tomorrow. It could be two weeks from now. It could be six months. They will come, and I'm not sure I'll have enough advance warning to get here first."

A shiver ran down Maggie's spine. "We don't have anything to tell them."

"I don't know if they'll take that for an answer," Stark said quietly. "I want to think that they will, but..."

He trailed off, and Maggie's mind filled in the rest: he didn't think they would. "This is like a bad spy movie," she said, jumping to her feet. She couldn't sit still; she had to move, even if it was just grabbing a cloth to wipe the counter. "I can't believe this."

"Mrs. Lang, I didn't come here to frighten you unnecessarily."

"Then why did you come? You don't know us, or Scott," Maggie said. "Why bother?"

That's what she really didn't get. Why someone like Tony Stark was even bothering to concern himself with her and her family. They were nobodies in the grand scheme of things. Even Scott wasn't much of a hero, not yet anyway. And at this rate, he wouldn't ever be considering that he was currently a criminal. Again.

Stark was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Someone I thought was a friend asked your ex-husband to fight with him. And he did. The whole reason for the fight in the first place was my fault. I want to minimize the collateral damage as much as I can."

"And that's what you think we'll be," Maggie said.

He nodded. "I've learned that it's better to safe than sorry, at least when it comes to innocent people."

"I just don't see how we can uproot our whole lives just for something that might not happen," she said. "I mean, I do get where you're coming from, but... I'm just a normal person. I'm really finding it hard to imagine that we're in that much danger."

"I can offer you a position with Stark Industries. And I can arrange to have your fiancé switched to the New York City police department. There are other children in the tower, if that helps," he added. "Laura Barton - that's Hawkeye's wife - and her children have already been relocated."

Hawkeye. The name rang a bell. Maggie folded her arms. "You realize that this sounds kind of creepy. I mean, you sound like one of those bad internet email scams everyone warns you about."

Stark stared at her. "That... was not the response I was expecting."

Maggie shrugged. Maybe she was being deliberately stubborn. She didn't know. But she did know she was starting to wonder just what the heck that Scott had gotten them involved in. When she'd told him to go out and find a reputable, steady job so that he could be a part of Cassie's life, this was not what she meant.

"I'll think about it. Jim and I will talk it over and let you know," Maggie said.

He seemed to sense that was the best he was going to get and stood. "You can reach me through that email. I'll leave you my personal number as well." He set a business card on the table. "If you need help.... well, I'll pick up any time, day or night."

"Thank you," Maggie said, already thinking they wouldn't need it. She was going to toss it out and then go upstairs, wake Cassie up, and take her daughter out for breakfast. Right after she escorted Stark to the door.

Except when she opened the door, there was a black car parked across the street. The engine started the instant the door opened. Both Stark and Maggie watched as it drove away, screeching around the corner.

"Seriously," Stark said after a beat of silence. "Anytime."

Chapter Text

“In closing, we’d like to thank you again for your generous donations. I will personally ensure that they will be going to a worthwhile cause. Please enjoy the dinner.” Pepper smiled politely and stepped out from behind the podium as applause filled the room. She stayed in place until the cameras stopped flashing and the coordinator beckoned to her from the other side of the stage.

The speeches ended then, and there was a twenty minute interlude before supper would be served. Pepper made her way over to the bar and requested a glass of champagne. She couldn’t drink much during events like this – with Tony’s absence she was the face of Stark Industries, and right now the press was looking for any excuse necessary to tear into them as it was – but she needed a little something to take the edge of the night off.

“Put it on my tab,” Tony said.

Pepper didn’t jump, but she did turn on him. “You are not supposed to be here right now,” she hissed. “We agreed that you would keep a low profile until –”

“Until what?” Tony asked, sounding genuinely curious. He was smiling because they were being watched, but Pepper had definitely known him long enough to know that it wasn’t genuine. That was Tony’s plastic-y, megawatt, billionaire grin that she hated just as much as Rhodey did.

“Until you don’t look like you’re going to pass out,” she said, forgoing anger for concern, and reached out to touch his cheek. Her thumb brushed underneath his left eye and he winced, but didn’t pull away.

“Guess I’ll have to fire my make-up artist. They were supposed to cover everything up.”

“It’s make-up, Tony, not a miracle,” Pepper said. The bruises he’d sustained in Siberia were pretty much gone now, but she’d been watching the footage of the attack in downtown New York that he and Vision had taken care of. Tony had taken multiple hits to the suit, and it made her burn. The team should’ve been out there with him but they weren’t, and Tony was the one getting beat up for it.

He brought his hand up to cover hers, keeping it trapped against his cheek. “I miss you, Pep,” he admitted quietly.

What was left of her heart broke all over again. “You idiot. If you miss me, you don’t have to come here just to say that. Pick up the phone.”

“Would you have answered?” he asked, not bitterly, but legitimately curious.

“Tony. Just because we broke up doesn’t mean we stopped being friends,” Pepper said as patiently as she could. She would probably have to drum that through his head another dozen times before it actually sank in. “I said I needed some space and I meant it, but that doesn’t mean I wanted us to never speak again. And in light of recent events… Of course I would have answered.”

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had to just because of everything,” Tony muttered.

“You’ve never been able to make me do anything. Don’t think that’s going to change now,” Pepper said, keeping her tone light even though she meant every word. They would never be able to go back to the way they were and Pepper knew that. The knowledge stung at times, but ignoring it would be far worse.

She and Tony would never have worked out. Pepper could see that with clear eyes now that the relationship was over, and – if she was being honest with herself – she’d suspected as much going in, though she hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time. She couldn’t be Tony’s everything. It was too much pressure. She could be his girlfriend or she could be his CEO, and selfishly, she wanted to be CEO more. Add in the fact that Pepper couldn’t watch Tony put on the armor while being left behind to wonder if he'd come back and the solution, though painful, was obvious.

He smiled and finally let their hands drop. “I have a few new roommates,” he said lowly. “They might be able to help your problem.”

“Really?”

“I’m not making much headway on my own, but Betty Ross and Jane Foster have already come up with a couple of ideas for stabilizing Extremis. I suggested they pull Helen in. They need to run some tests, though. Can you come over to the tower tomorrow?”

Pepper nodded. “Of course.” She was past the point of believing that there would be a cure for Extremis. At this rate, she would settle for some way to control the random surges of fire. There was only so much time she could spend working from home before her absence would be noticed by the wrong people, which could spell disaster.

“Good,” he said, looking relieved enough that Pepper squinted at him suspiciously.

“Tell me you haven’t been beating yourself up about this,” she said.

“No,” Tony said, which was a blatant lie and they both knew it. He shrugged. “It’s my fault you’re like this. And I haven’t even been able to pay as much attention to fixing it as I wanted to.”

“That is definitely not your fault. You’ve been busy enough for three people.” Pepper should know. She was the one who’d been notified about what their sizeable team of lawyers was working on at the moment. What their results produced, Tony was trying to handle himself.

“I have help,” Tony said defensively.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Really! T’Challa is taking on a huge part of it.”

T’Challa. That was interesting. She hadn’t known Tony was on first name basis with the King of Wakanda. “Is he still…”

“Yeah. But honestly, I’d rather have them where I know they’re not going to cause any trouble,” Tony said. “T’Challa can monitor their activities this way, at least, and keep them out of danger. I don’t have to worry about protecting them too.”

“You don’t need to worry about protecting anyone,” Pepper said, putting a hand on his arm. Stupid as it was to keep touching him, she couldn’t help herself. But now she was the one lying, and Tony called her on it.

“That’s not true, Pep, and you know it. Barton’s family, Lang’s family, even someone like Sharon or Jane and Darcy. Ross thinks they’re all fair game right now. If I didn’t step in, no one else was going to.”

“I’m going to see more than just Betty or Jane tomorrow, aren’t I?”

Tony’s smile was sheepish. “You’ll like Maggie Lang?”

“I should have guessed,” Pepper said affectionately, shaking her head a little. This put a slightly different spin on the situation. It looked like Pepper was just one more person that Tony was trying to reign in, all in the name of protecting them from Ross’s fall-out as much as possible. The real question, as far as Pepper was concerned, was who was going to protect Tony.

For a moment, as she squeezed Tony’s arm, she wished that she could be the one to do it.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Sharon could still taste Steve’s kiss. It usually happened when she was standing in the break room watching the news coverage about the civil war (if you could call it news, considering that nothing new had happened in the past couple weeks. That didn't stop the media from rehashing what they did know endlessly).

Either way, it wasn't the best timing on Sharon's part considering that most of her new coworkers were already giving her the side-eye. They all knew she came from SHIELD, and every single one of them was dying to ask for the insider’s scoop on the aptly named ‘Avengers civil war’. No one dared, which was a shame because shooting someone might’ve gotten rid of the terrible taste in her mouth.

She turned on her heel to leave, tensing when she heard the whispers immediately start up in her absence, and stalked back to her office. People got out of her way, which was nice. Finding someone sitting in her chair already? Not so nice. Especially when Sharon realized who it was.

“CIA chairs are even less comfy than SHIELD’s. Who knew?”

“What are you doing here?” Sharon asked, closing the door automatically. It wouldn’t help if someone really wanted to snoop – who the hell had decided that having a quarter of the wall be made out of lightly frosted glass was a good idea? – but it was the best she could do.

“I came to see my favorite cousin,” Tony said. His feet were up on her desk. “She’s been avoiding me. Maybe you know her. Goes by Agent 13?”

The old nickname made Sharon wince. “I heard she made some really stupid mistakes and doesn’t know how to make up for them.”

Tony sat up, his feet hitting the floor. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I gave him back the shield.”

“You thought it belonged to him.”

“I kissed him!”

That actually gave Tony pause, his nose wrinkling, but he came back with, “You have shitty taste in guys, but you wouldn’t be the first woman. We can work on that.”

“Tony.”

“Seriously, Aunt Peggy’s ex-boyfriend? That’s kind of creepy.”

Sharon threw a pen at him. He ducked and it sailed over his head. The pen hit the wall behind him and exploded. Tony spun in the chair, watching the fragments fall to the ground with a raised eyebrow.

“Wow, CIA technicians aren’t any better, either. You should totally come work for me.”

“Is that what you’re doing here?” Sharon said, crossing her arms. “A job offer?”

“In a way. I have Maria Hill in my employment now. She actually likes me. Sort of.”

“You do have a way of growing on people,” Sharon said, feeling a rush of fondness when Tony smirked at her. They weren’t as close as they’d been when she was a child. She was pretty sure that was mostly her fault. She’d wanted so badly to make her own way in the world; hiding her relation to Peggy had ended up meaning hiding Tony too. In her more honest moments she knew it was a good thing because she’d hated the playboy Tony had become in his twenties and thirties, but it was still one of the few things in her life she regretted.

And yet. When they were in the same room for more than five minutes, it was like the time apart had never happened. She didn’t know how Tony did that, but she was grateful for it.

“I think we need to start a new initiative of some kind,” Tony said.

Sharon turned those words over in her mind, then looked down at him. “What are you doing, Tony?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know.”

“That’s reassuring.”

He shrugged, leaning forward. The sunlight caught his face. He looked old and tired. “The world needs someone, kiddo. I used to think it had to be the Avengers. Now I’m not so sure.”

He wasn’t wrong, unfortunately, but she was skeptical. “And you think you’re qualified to make the new team?”

“Fuck no. But no one else seems to be even trying. They all think it’s over and done with. But something’s coming, Sharon. I don’t know what, but right now most of the Avengers are criminals hiding in Wakanda and frankly I don’t trust any of them and I don’t know what else to do because if that something comes, me and Vision and a high school kid aren’t enough to handle it and Rhodey isn’t ready for the field right now and there’s no one else I can call on." He dragged in a desperate breath, finishing with, "I hate dragging innocent people into this, but I’m at the point where I don’t know what else to do.” His eyes were over bright with desperation, maybe, or lack of sleep. Probably both.

“Who else have you asked?” Sharon asked, softening her tone. “Maria?”

Tony shook his head. “She prefers working behind the lines. Being all secret agent-y. If necessary she would step up, but she said it was better for me to look elsewhere first. I haven’t really asked anyone. Right now, I’m just working on trying to keep some people out of Ross’s reach. I thought you might have some suggestions on who could fill in.”

“Maybe,” Sharon said, thinking about it. She’d like to see who Tony had at the tower first. Her cousin had this way of attracting unique people without even realizing it: someone like Laura Barton would be an excellent operative, but Tony probably didn’t know that yet.

“Is that a yes? You’ll come?”

“How do you plan to pay me?”

He pulled a face. “Pepper’s working on it. It’s murky right now. I’m hoping to push that through as part of the revised Accords, actually. Did you know most superheroes live right above the poverty line?”

“Fighting evil isn’t conducive to a day job,” Sharon said dryly. “Who knew?”

“I didn’t. It’s not right.” He wasn’t quite pouting, but it was adorably close. That was Tony for you. He literally wanted to save everyone, including the people who were supposed to be helping him, and considered it a personal failing if he couldn’t. Sharon had always pegged it as one of his biggest downfalls. Apparently, that hadn’t changed.

“And you trust me?” she asked quietly.

“Of course.”

“You shouldn’t. I wasn’t really on your side during the civil war.”

Tony dropped his gaze. “We all made mistakes.”

“Some mistakes were worse than others.”

For some reason, that made him smile. But it was an empty smile. “Think about it, okay? The door is open if you decide that you want to come. I won’t push either way.”

“Okay,” Sharon said. She’d already made up her mind.

Tony left via the armor through Sharon’s open window (which would have people buzzing again, no doubt). She didn't watch him go, just sat down at her desk. She spent the rest of the day taking a good, hard look at the Accords, some news sites, and the remainder of the SHIELD servers. At 5pm, she sent an email outlining her immediate resignation to her boss. Then she stood up, left her badge and gun on her desk, and took the service elevator down so she wouldn’t have to speak to any of her ex-coworkers.

Chapter Text

During the meeting about crops Shuri said very little, as was her custom. She spent the time watching her brother very closely. She could tell that the scrutiny was starting to bother him, which just made it more fun: the more flustered T’Challa got, the more information he unwittingly gave away. He was fortunate that few people knew him well enough to recognize or understand his tells, but he’d never been able to hide anything from Shuri.

When the last person had bowed and left the room, T’Challa glared at her. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

His glare deepened. “For you, a single glance speaks volumes.”

“You’re so paranoid,” Shuri said, a paragon of innocence. “Perhaps you need a vacation. Didn’t Tony Stark offer you lodgings anytime you had business in New York?”

T’Challa knocked over his (thankfully empty) glass at the mention of that name. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Shuri watched him in delight, realizing that this went far beyond a simple crush. Her brother was in love. And from what she’d gathered, it would be a suitable match - if Stark was the man that T’Challa said he was. She decided that it was time to find out for herself.

“I’ll make the arrangements,” she said, standing. “We’ll both go. I’ve never visited New York before. Father always told me I needed to broaden my horizons.”

“You can’t just invite yourself to someone’s house!” T’Challa sputtered.

“I’m sure Mr. Stark won’t mind,” Shuri said, giving him a coy look. “Not once he hears that you’ll be coming with me. I’ll make sure to ask the maids to pack that swimsuit that’s a little too tight. I bet he really won’t mind then.”

He sputtered again and she laughed, leaving the room before he could gather himself together enough to come up with a viable protest. It really wasn’t a great time for them to go, but then again in the life of a King there was always some pressing need and Shuri thought that this was important. T’Challa’s heart would be a valuable gift for any man or woman. She needed to make sure Stark was worthy.

On her way back to her rooms, she passed the quarters where the Avengers were staying. Shuri slowed her pace and ducked into their hall, curious as always about the actions of criminals. Most of the time they were boring: she hadn’t found anything that indicated their presence was a danger to Wakanda, unless she counted the immense political pressure their country was under. No one could prove that the Avengers were hiding here yet, but there were a lot of suspicions.

As far as Shuri was concerned, they shouldn’t be here at all. T’Chaka had died supporting the Accords, and Shuri wasn’t sure she wanted to offer sanctuary to those who had refused to sign it. T’Challa had told her that the Avengers were both necessary and important, and that might have been true – but she didn’t see why that meant they had to be in Wakanda. Let them live in the world as fugitives and learn that there were consequences to their actions. Real men and women did not throw temper tantrums; they got things done with subtlety, an understanding of politics, pressure in the right place, money and influence – and without causing the deaths of thousands.

T'Challa had told her she was being too harsh. Shuri disagreed, but she was not the king. It was just one more reason why she wanted to meet Tony Stark, knowing his part in the Ultron massacre. T’Challa was an excellent judge of character, but he could blind at times. She would not have her kind, loving brother be taken advantage of.

As it turned out, most of the Avengers were watching some movie on the television. Only the captain was missing, and she suspected that he was in room that housed the cryogenic chamber. She did not linger over them for long, moving on. In the privacy of her bedroom, she took out her phone and dialed a number that she had stolen from T’Challa’s cell phone. It wasn’t the number of Tony Stark, but rather –

“Virginia Potts speaking.”

“Ms. Potts, this is Shuri, T’Challa’s sister.”

“Oh!” Potts said, sounding very surprising. “Your highness, I wasn’t expecting… good morning.”

“Good morning,” Shuri said, changing the setting to video. The screen popped up in front of her, showing a very attractive, pale-skinned redhead with green eyes. Shuri smiled at the screen and Potts smiled back.

“What do I owe this call?” Potts asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all. I was wondering if my brother and I could impose on you and Mr. Stark for a short time.”

“You want to come for a visit?” Potts’s smile grew wider. “Of course. I think Tony would be thrilled to see T’Challa. And you too, of course, but –”

“If he’s been moping around half as much as my brother has, I understand you completely,” Shuri said dryly. “And please, call me Shuri.”

“Then call me Pepper,” Pepper said. “When are you available?”

“The sooner, the better, I think,” said Shuri. “I would like it if T’Challa could surprise Mr. Stark.”

“I think that could be arranged. Tony’s so busy right now, he doesn’t even know if he’s coming or going. All this business with Ross is keeping us all on our toes.”

Shuri nodded. “So I’ve heard. Perhaps you and I could set up a meeting to discuss whether I can be of any help with the situation. My brother is restricted in his movements right now, but I’m not. If there was some way that my presence could help, there is a possibility I could stay in New York for a longer period of time.”

“Of course. Wakanda’s already been invaluable, but any help that we can get would be appreciated. Sometimes I worry that Tony is going to work himself into a heart attack.”

“Men who try to do too much can be hard on the head,” Shuri said sympathetically. Her father and brother were both the same way. She did have to wonder whether Tony Stark was working himself to the bone for the better or worse of humanity, but she kept those questions to herself. It was best to see for herself, without being influenced one way or the other by those who either loved or abhorred the man.

“Tell me about it,” Pepper muttered, rolling her eyes. “How does Friday sound? I can have Tony’s meetings rearranged so that he’ll have at least that day off.”

“That will work. I’ll let you know what time our plane will get in.”

“I’ll meet you at the airport,” Pepper said. “Thank you for this. It will be good for Tony.”

“And for T’Challa,” Shuri told her. “See you then… Pepper.”

Pepper smiled. “Goodbye.”

Shuri ended the call and sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. If Stark had drawn the wool over T’Challa’s eyes, she would figure it out and force her brother to see the truth. If not, and it turned out that Stark was everything T’Challa thought he was, then she would do whatever she could to help. Either way, she was going to have a very busy couple of weeks ahead of her.

Chapter Text

Peter had never been to Stark Tower before. So when Mr. Rhodes called and asked if he wanted to come along for a visit, he was psyched. Of course he wanted to come! Who wouldn’t? Maybe if he was really lucky, Mr. Stark would show him the famous workshop. He’d scoured the handful of pictures that a few enterprising journalists had scored during private interviews, but of course the photos showed very little. He was positive there was more behind the genius.

So after school that Friday, he said his goodbye to Mary Jane and raced out to meet the (surprisingly normal looking) car parked just outside the gates. He could tell that was for him because the Vision was standing beside it, attracting all kinds of attention. Peter ignored the curious looks and hurried over to the car, making a mental note that next time he would have to tell them to park a couple blocks away. If there was a next time, not that he was assuming anything.

“Good afternoon,” the Vision said, opening the door for him.

“Thanks,” Peter said, climbing in. “Hi Mr. Rhodes.”

“Peter, I’ve told you, call me Jim for god’s sake. That makes me sound like I’m about fifty.”

“But aren’t you –”

“Stop,” Mr. Rhodes – Jim said, holding up a finger. “You can call Tony old all you want. Frankly, you should because it's good for his ego. But that kind of talk is the last thing I need to hear.”

“Noted,” Peter said with a small, self-conscious smile. At least Mr. Rhodes – Jim looked better than he had the last time Peter had seen him. He’d only gone to the hospital with Mr. Stark once. Seeing the grief and guilt on Mr. Stark’s face, combined with the obvious pain on Jim’s face every time he so much as shifted, had been both uncomfortable and sobering, and Mr. Stark hadn’t offered to take him again.

The Vision joined them on the other side of the car, and they pulled away from the curb. Peter fiddled with his hands, glancing at Jim out of the corner of his eye. He was a little surprised that the hospital had released the man so early, because last he’d heard from Mr. Stark the hospital was hell bent on keeping James Rhodes there for as long as possible. Evidently, that hadn’t worked out well for them.

Jim caught his stare and smiled grimly. “I know. Pepper gave me the same look when she heard that I was getting out. I just couldn’t sit there in that damn bed any longer. Besides, I felt guilty about keeping the Vision away from Tony.”

“I could’ve helped out more –”

“I know, kid,” Jim said, smile softening. “Tony told me you already helped in a couple of battles. We appreciate it. But still. Tony was being a dumbass by insisting that the Vision stay with me as a guard, and that’s just not feasible right now. We need as many hands on deck as we can get.”

Peter nodded, because that made sense. Mr. Stark was trying to keep him out of battles too, though sometimes Peter showed up even when he wasn’t supposed to. He found it hard to sit by knowing that robots or whatever were attacking Manhattan when there was something he could do about it. Especially when Mr. Stark and the Vision were trying to handle things all on their own.

“So, as long as I promised to go back every morning for physical therapy, I am a free man,” Jim finished. “God it feels good to get out of that place. It’s nice to see color again.” He stared out the window as Peter hid a smile. That was word for word what his Aunt May had said after she’d been released from the hospital following her appendix surgery two years ago.

“There were colors in the hospital,” the Vision said, a little confused.

Jim snorted, winking at Peter. “There were,” he agreed. “But nothing really compares to fresh air. Well, as fresh as it can get in New York, anyway. And no,” he added quickly, turning to the Vision, “we don’t need to know exactly what the air quality is here. I’m better off not knowing.”

The Vision shrugged. It was a gesture that looked oddly out of place on him, as though he’d learned by watching someone else do it and was replicating it solely in practice, but not spirit. Of course, that was probably exactly what had happened. That was the reality of Peter’s weird life now, after all.

They pulled up to Stark Tower. Jim flat-out refused to be carried, not that Peter could blame him, so Peter fetched the wheelchair from the trunk while the Vision helped Jim to get out of the car. Jim was unsteady on his feet at best, legs threatening to collapse, and it was clear that moving was still extraordinarily painful for him, but he made it (mostly) under his own power and smiled proudly once he was in the chair.

“Don’t need the hospital at all,” he said confidently.

Peter had to bite his tongue. "Right," he said when he felt capable of speaking without something sarcastic coming out. "Not... at all." He exchanged a look with the Vision and fell into step behind Jim's wheelchair, which the Vision pushed into the building.

He didn't know what he was expecting when the elevator doors opened up on the top floor of Stark Tower. An empty room maybe, since Jim had warned them on the way up that he would probably have to go down to the workshop and roust Mr. Stark out - except Jim called him "that idiot", but it was pretty obvious who he meant - or maybe Mr. Stark himself passed out on the couch.

Instead, half a dozen heads swung their way when the doors opened. Peter only recognized a couple of them. Pepper Potts was almost as well known as Mr. Stark, and of course he knew T'Challa, the King of Wakanda. There was a black woman there who was probably the king's sister based on how similar they looked, though Peter couldn't recall her name offhand, plus three other women he didn't know, and two little girls.

"Rhodey! Peter! Vision, you made it," Ms. Potts said, her face splitting into a smile, rising to her feet. "I just called Tony. He's on his way up." She came right over to them and bent to kiss Jim's cheek. Jim clasped her hand when she stood and they smiled at each other.

Then Jim said, with a shake of his head, "I knew he'd be down there."

"Sometimes I think the only time he leaves is when Laura is cooking," said one of the women. She smiled too. "Hi. I'm Darcy. This is Betty, Shuri, Maggie, T'Challa, Cassie and Lila." She pointed to each person in turn.

"This is Peter," Ms. Potts said, apparently sensing that Peter was way too tongue-tied to actually speak at the moment. "And James Rhodes, also known as War Machine, and the Vision."

She hadn't announced Peter's identity, which he was grateful for - though had he known there were so many visitors, he might've just worn the suit. He managed a weak smile in Ms. Potts's direction when she crinkled her fingers at him in a wave.

"How long have you been here?" Jim asked, looking around. He got a varying murmurs of answers. Peter picked out that Darcy had been here the longest at a month and a half; everyone else had trooped in over the past three weeks. It seemed to make Jim happy enough, because he nodded with a satisfied smile.

"Honeybear!" The elevator doors sprang open behind them and Mr. Stark flew out. "What are you doing here? Why are you here?"

"I missed you," Jim said, completely deadpan.

Mr. Stark drew up to a sharp stop. "But you -"

"I'm fine, Tony. Really. I wanted to be here." Jim held out his free hand, waiting. It was at least a minute before Mr. Stark took it. His eyes got all red and watery and Peter looked away, glimpsing Ms. Potts's face crumpling out of the corner of his eye. Awkward.

Darcy beckoned to him. "How about a tour?" she whispered.

Peter nodded, realizing that the room was clearing out. Maggie was herding the children out and even the Vision was sinking through the floor. He could talk to Mr. Stark later - it was sort of comforting to know that Mr. Stark would be there to talk to now. He said, "Please."