Eye for Eye
theAppropriateLlama
Genres: Family, Friendship, Romance (Plus the typical Avengers superhero-y adventure stuff)
Categories: This is placed in the Avengers section because it's the closest to encompassing the Marvel Cinematic Universe. This story will touch upon aspects of the MCU as shown in media including but not limited to: Captain America, Avengers, Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and potentially Marvel's Daredevil and Marvel's Agent Carter (if I ever get around to watching those).
Thank you for clicking on this story!
26 October 2002
DAKOTA WEISS
AGE: 15
NOTES: Paper, glass, and flower petals very realistic. Having trouble with gravel and sandpaper.
It had been big news a while ago and, as was her responsibility, she had to cover its resurgence. She did less of the writing and more of the investigating—one of her best and worst features was how very obsessive she got over a story once it was in her hands. Her gaze would be fixed only on the task at hand, her brow furrowed in the way that it did when she was thinking. Dakota Weiss, as her sister always said, was ill-suited for a desk job. Whenever she had to drag herself back to her allotted spot in the ice cube tray to type out her story, her legs bounced and her fingers twitched with a need for less sedentary activity. She just couldn't sit still, no matter how hard she tried to keep her heels on the ground, no matter how much paperwork she had to do that would benefit from being seated and stationary.
At the moment, she was on the phone with a colleague, discussing her next job. Dakota tucked strands of dark blond hair behind her ears and precariously balanced the phone on her shoulder as she answered, still typing away. Pleasantries aside, Andrew Lloyd was not someone she was exactly keen on speaking to for longer than necessary. He made her squirm when he mentioned anything that remotely reminded her of their past relationship (not that it had been a very long one, nor very long ago), which pretty much meant anything other than the task at hand. Now, though, he was mercifully discussing the latest news.
"So, Stark Towers is being finished soon, a few blocks away."
"Tower," Dakota merely said, hands flying over the keyboard with practiced ease.
"What?"
"It's Stark Tower, as in just one." Click click click. "Though I don't blame you—seems like everyone's making that mistake. But, rest assured, it's still just one building."
"Well," continued Andrew, "at any rate, it doesn't change the fact that it's going to be amazing."
"If it actually works? Yep. Definitely will be." Click. Click click click.
"Oh, come on, Dakota! You can't tell me you don't trust the great Stark to work his sciencey magic and wow everyone—again—do you?"
"I trust you to sound like a fanboy every time Tony Stark is mentioned," she said, starting another file on the computer through which to copy her notes. "And I don't quite think it's that simple."
"Of course it's not simple—this is Stark Industries we're talking about."
Dakota sighed. "Yes, I believe he'll do the damn thing. He's a genius, remember? I'd almost make him president if he weren't so pigheaded."
"Where do you get that idea?" he asked, taken aback.
"He's building himself a monument and plastering his name in huge letters. Need I?" Andrew huffed, but Dakota knew he wasn't really upset.
"The company is called Stark Industries, after all. But I digress. You're planning on speaking with Pepper Potts, right?"
"Just a tad." Dakota swiveled in her chair and leaned back, almost ready to clock out for the day. "I'm not exactly eager to talk to Stark—I've heard enough about him to not want to—but, from what I remember, Pepper Potts is friendly enough."
"She's the one to go to, without a doubt." Dakota was about to say something, but Andrew was interrupted by someone speaking to him. She couldn't hear anything but mumbles, and then Andrew came back to the phone. "Sorry. I'll have to leave you—I mean, hang up, now. Duty calls."
Dakota winced at the slip up, thinking that it was ridiculous that there was still this annoying tension between them, as if they were still in high school. "Yeah, that's fine. I'm clocking out anyway."
After hanging up, Dakota collected her things, saved her files, and gazed out the window of her office as the sun began to dip below the city skyline. She reached for her phone and dialed a number. Five rings and, as expected, no one picked up. Still, undeterred, she set out on her way, deciding to make a few stops before going home.
8888
It was oddly silent when Dakota turned the key in the lock, pushed the door open with her elbow, and made a beeline for the kitchen. She deposited her highlighter-yellow bags on the counter and went back to lock the door, then began the arduous process of sorting what she'd brought. She still had no idea where things were supposed to go—they changed so often, she couldn't get used to any placement.
After she finished putting away the groceries, she set about looking for her sister, who was usually busy by now. It wasn't odd for it to be quiet, but it usually wasn't.
Dakota found her in what should have been a dining room. No actual dining (or very minimal) happened here. A small office or cubicle never cut it for Helena. She always did her work spread out on a dining table, rather than piled on a desk. The tabletop was painted white by numerous papers in neat, very short piles. Various shiny items—none of which Dakota recognized—were scattered around the table, whereas more familiar tools, like test tubes and magnifying glasses, were towards the end. On the furthest side of the table, Helena was fast asleep, cuddling with her microscope.
Dakota went around to gently nudge her shoulder. Helena stirred after a few moments, rubbing her face and stretching. She seemed to just realize her older sister was there. Helena picked up her discarded glasses from the table and ran a hand through her brown locks—Helena never dared to dye or bleach her hair like Dakota did—pulling them free from her ponytail.
"Have a nice nap?" Dakota inquired, smirking. She watched as her younger sister rolled her eyes and returned to her papers, putting in order the ones she had disturbed with her falling asleep.
"I was working," said Helena. She frowned as she removed her now wrinkled lab coat, which she'd most likely kept on after leaving the lab.
"Very productively, too—I can see it must've been really interesting." Dakota took the only other chair at the table and took this opportunity to look at her sister. She looked tired—not just from sleep, but from weariness. Her hair was a mess of stray strands that couldn't decide where to go. Her patchwork-eyes were bleary and barely alert.
They didn't see each other very often, but since they had moved in together a couple of weeks back, they were just beginning to find a rhythm. After the first few days of cohabitation, Dakota had noticed that Helena wasn't always as chipper and happy as she'd seemed whenever they hung out before. She supposed something must have changed, or she just hadn't paid enough attention to her before. Living together was a good opportunity to notice all sorts of things about people you thought you already knew.
"It's good enough, I suppose." Helena sighed, wrapping up the microscope to store it properly. "I wanted to study something else—I used to, when I first began with them—but, lately, they've just been telling me what to research, what they need done, and it's always for commercial products of little importance."
"I'm sorry to hear that." And she was, really. Dakota knew firsthand what it was like, being delegated work and being unable to choose what you wanted to work on or cover. She still sometimes felt like that. But she imagined, somehow, that it was worse for Helena, who had to intimately study and document her research in ways Dakota didn't have to do. She pictured Helena, hair in a messy bun, crisply pressed lab coat, and sharp, heterochromatic eyes focused on rows of numbers, lines of data, and stacks of scribbles.
"It's fine. Really." She gave a halfhearted smile. "I'd just rather focus my attention on something besides rocks and what minerals are best for the newest eyeshadow. It's not really what I studied."
"Come on," said Dakota, nodding her head towards the kitchen. "I brought groceries. You need food."
"Okay."
Within a little while, the two sat opposite each other at the island in the middle of the kitchen, picking bits of sandwich out of their teeth with toothpicks. They weren't strangers, but living together for the first time since before Dakota left for college was a surreal experience; it was too easy to see how different they had become. Dakota was in journalism and communications, dealing with people and businesses. She was usually out on the go, given her aversion to desk work. A pair of comfortable heels, a pencil skirt, and a blazer—and, of course, her special brand of stealth—were her uniform and tools. Her gray eyes were rarely diverted from her current goal; in other words, she had a serious case of tunnel vision. But she could afford to do that, and, when she was done, she would start all over again with her new task.
Helena, her junior by three years, was far quieter, but no less obsessive. Armed with a white lab coat and goggles, she spent most of her days (and some nights) in a research facility. It wasn't that she didn't like the outside world, but that she loved the beauty of breaking things down to the core—to the whys and hows of their function and being. She had an intense need to know why. She didn't look professionally attractive, like her sister's line of work demanded; her job was far less glamorous. The only thing really striking about her was her eyes—they used to be mostly the gray-blue of her father's, but, from a young age, her heterochromia had begun to spread hazel and ash brown patches in both irises. Her eyes hadn't changed for a while now, but they were hidden behind thick glasses.
"Kota?" Helena said, breaking the silence and bringing Dakota out of her thoughts.
"Hmm?"
Helena took a shuddering breath. Dakota frowned and moved forward as if to comfort her somehow, but she didn't know how. The younger sister took off her glasses and rested her forehead on her wrist, holding her head up with her forearm as she avoided Dakota's searching gaze.
"What is it, Lena?" her sister asked carefully, as if defusing a bomb.
"I'm going to have to leave." The air was heavy with the weight of her words.
"Leave? Leave where? Why?"
"The research facility," she said, her voice small and fragile. "They want to send me away, to Washington, or Colorado, or I don't know where—and, if I want to keep my job, I have to go." Dakota's brows furrowed as she glared off to the side, fidgeting in her seat and tapping on the countertop.
"Why would they do that? Can't they find someone else?"
Helena shook her head. "They're sending everybody. Well, almost," she corrected herself. "But the majority of scientists are being sent to other facilities. They want to start pushing us for results."
"What, are they worried about competition?" Dakota scoffed, as if the thought was completely ridiculous. She set about picking up the plates and napkins they'd used.
"Actually, yes. They get funding for their research, but only insofar as they get results and scientists willing to work for them." Helena gathered the rest of their mess, and the two busied themselves cleaning whatever they'd managed to dirty. "As I'm sure you know, Stark Industries is opening a branch in New York soon. There's been researchers and developers applying for positions for months now, when the building was just a concept Pepper Potts announced after the disaster that was Stark Expo. Some of our own have been applying, and now the facility's shipping people out, as if that'd stop them from leaving."
"Well, why don't you just apply at Stark Industries, then?" Dakota asked, as if it were the obvious solution. "You could just leave, too. You've been wanting to for a while—I can see it. Besides, Stark does tech and robotics—kind of, maybe, a little bit more up your alley than this thing you've already got going."
Helena deflated, laughing without humor. "It's not that simple. Stark only takes the best of the best of the best—and I'm not. Not to mention people have already been applying for month to a half-finished building. Everyone's vying for employment there, and I only have a couple years of real experience compared to most people applying, who'll all have at least seven to ten to start out with. Not to mention, I don't have the degree that he'd want. I'm sure he's looking for engineers."
Dakota didn't really know what to say to that, so she went and gave her sister an awkward sort of hug, wrapping her arms around the younger's shoulders. She was slightly taller than her, but they were both pretty tall anyway, with borderline broad shoulders. They weren't big on hugging, but Helena smiled and reciprocated, acknowledging the attempt at comfort.
"Don't worry," said Dakota. "Everything—everything, I say—is going to be all right."
8888
Dakota was excited. She was awaiting a call back from Pepper Potts—the woman who basically ran Starks Industries. She had spoken to her many months ago to follow up on plans for Stark Tower and had been told everything that was in the works—most notably, how it was going to be the first building to be able to run itself, disconnected from the municipal power grid.
The structure itself was more or less finished by now. Just last month, the letters spelling out "Stark" had been placed onto the building overnight—Tony Stark, in his Iron Man suit, had himself flown to put everything into place. This month, Pepper was arriving to finish overseeing the interior of the tower. It would be a couple of weeks, but, afterwards, the tower would eventually be open and fully staffed. Dakota was hoping to speak to Pepper during her brief stay, and, after a few days and a couple phone calls, she got her chance. Pepper called within the first few days of February, and Dakota was to see her a few days after she arrived at Stark Tower.
Staring up at the enormity of Stark Tower was an odd sensation. Dakota knew it would soon become a central and powerful part of Manhattan, and it would house incredible intellect and influence, but it was just a building right now. It was a skeleton for what would become a beefed-up body of world-revolutionizing innovation. It barely had furniture.
"Dakota Weiss?"
The journalist tore her gaze from the top of the building to the sidewalk where Pepper Potts was just walking towards her.
"Pepper Potts," she greeted the CEO. "It's a pleasure seeing you again."
"Likewise. I was just on my way back." She waved her Starbucks cup proudly.
"You know your way around New York pretty well," Dakota noted with a pleasant grin.
"Not too well. Just enough to function, but I'll be getting to know it when the Tower is finished."
"Which should be soon, I believe?"
"A few months, at the latest." She gestured to the doors. "Shall we?"
They walked through the ground floor, which housed a generous reception area. It was more or less furnished with the bigger things like couches and desks, but lacked computers and chairs. Pepper began to talk as they walked through the building's ground floor and then to the elevator.
"On some floors, like this one, they've already brought in large pieces of furniture. The carpeting for most floors has been finished, but there are still at least a dozen empty and undeveloped floors that will be planned for after the building's already up and running. There's about sixty floors, as you know, and the top ten are all strictly research and development. After that, there's human resources, legal offices, and all the other stuff that businesses require. Those are the things that need to be worked on now."
Pepper pressed a button on the elevator—one of several dozen—and up they went.
"The elevators are working, but the floors that aren't done will not be available without a key, so it won't be much of a problem after the building opens."
"Are you or Mr. Stark relocating to Stark Tower once it's finished?" Dakota inquired.
"Probably both of us," she said, "at least in the beginning. There will be plenty to oversee from here, and it will most likely become the new headquarters."
The elevator doors opened up to a floor—any floor, really; Dakota assumed they mostly looked the same right now. Pepper led her forward and stated that this floor was to contain her office, so she had wanted to see what it currently held; so far, it merely had a desk and a couple of unadorned beige divans. That was where Pepper and Dakota sat for a while, discussing Stark Industries, Stark Tower, and future prospects for each of those.
"Okay," Dakota said, looking through her notepad of things she'd taken down from her interview with Pepper. "I think this is good. Is there anything else you'd like to say? Anything you want me to put out there for publicity, or even anything you don't want to be said?"
Pepper smiled kindly. "You're considerate. I've been met with far, far worse reporters. I think it'll be fine."
"I'm the only one who deals with Stark-specific articles at work, so you'll be seeing me again, I fear." The redhead laughed.
"If only all of the press was as level-headed."
"We can't all be so fortunate." She smiled briefly, and then a thought occurred to her. "Actually, there is something else I'd like to ask about—off the record."
"Be my guest."
"Stark Industries wouldn't happen to still be taking applications for Stark Tower, would they?"
"That depends on whose application and for which position." She leaned forward. "What did you have in mind?"
"My sister — brilliant girl that she is — isn't having a good time in her lab, and her bosses are looking to ship her out of the state to another facility like they've been doing to her coworkers." Dakota paused. "Studying rocks and minerals and the like for beauty products — or whatever other trial-based product it is — was never something she wanted to do. She wanted to help people and create and research technology to better the world."
Pepper held her hopeful stare. "I can't promise her a job. I can only take her application and set up a call or meeting with Mr. Stark, but I can't promise she'll get anything."
Dakota felt her heart sink for a moment before she nodded. "That's okay. A chance is all she needs. I would be grateful regardless."
"Alright. Just email me her application and résumé by tomorrow—or have her come in next week, even—and I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you, Ms. Potts."
"Call me Pepper."
8888
"You should've kept your nose out of it!"
"I'm sorry," Dakota insisted. "Is that what you want to hear? That I wish I didn't have the best of intentions in trying to help you get a job that you'd like better?"
Helena sent her older sister a hard look. She placed the box she was carrying on the table and let her hands rest on the top of it. "I wish you wouldn't have gotten involved. I had it covered."
"Did you really?" Dakota crossed her arms, staring at her sister from across the table. She sighed. It had been a couple of days since she and Pepper had spoken, and, though Helena, at the insistence of her sister, had sent her application to Pepper, the younger sister had been visibly distant thereafter. "I just…I know you wanted to work elsewhere. I had a chance to ask Pepper—she and I hit it off rather well, and I figured I might as well try, you know? She is the CEO, not to mention dating Stark."
"My lab found out I was supposedly looking into a job with Stark Industries and they let me go preemptively," Helena blurted. "They did likewise to the other people on whatever list they managed to draw up of people who had applied elsewhere, or who hesitated in going along with their relocation. I was lucky enough to have had my application processed quickly enough to be in the system with the others."
"Oh…shit."
"Yeah. Shit."
Dakota frowned and moved to stand by her sister, placing a tentative hand on her shoulders. "Well…maybe you'll get a call from Stark. Either way…it might be for the best. You can find other things, right?"
"I can try Manhattan Laboratories. I didn't have much experience back when I applied, but now I do, and it might work out." She sounded unsure. "It's mostly medical, though, which is fine, I guess, but…and with Stark Tower, surely, an influx of scientists…. But I guess I could also switch over to prosthetics and biomedical tools at some point.
"You don't know that it's the only option, though. How about you see if you get a call from Stark Industries? Then you can try Manhattan Labs."
"I guess so. I'll have to wait anyway." Helena offered her sister a weak smile, then set out to unpack the large cardboard box on the table.
"What is that, anyway?" Helena was already ripping through the tape.
"It's from when we first moved to New York. It was in a storage unit with some of my furniture and, since Mom and I are selling everything, I emptied it out. Found this."
Curious, Dakota came to stand by her sister as she pulled the cardboard flaps apart. There were other, plastic boxes in here, containing a mixture of papers and pictures. There was a box that took up half of the width of the big one, and both sisters knew it held their parents' things—the things that remained, anyway.
Helena's hands tightened on the edges of the box. "I'm glad I didn't open this in front of Mom."
"What is it?" Dakota asked. After a moment's hesitation, Helena drew out a plastic box with files and papers, looking much less familiar than the other ones full of photos. A rather thin leather notebook was with the files.
"I think it's Dad's research."
"You mean…?"
"Yes." Helena pulled out a manila folder and, without pause, flipped it open. "It's ours." There weren't many files, but most of the entries had two divisions: DAKOTA WEISS, HELENA WEISS.
