AN: Oh my god, I'm so sorry about the wait. I guess I could lie and say real life took over, but the truth is that I got interested with other fandoms over the summer. I wrote like ninety thousand words of a Harry Potter fanfic before watching the entire first season of Once Upon A Time and my mind has been blown ever since. Great show.
I have actually had this sitting on my desktop half done for about ever and just never got around to finishing it. But the good news is that I have the first four chapters of the sequel done. It's called "The Best Laid Plans" and will be in the AVENGERS section. Actually, I may move the entire "Karma-verse" there, but wanted to give you the heads up.
Summary: "Fury, maybe I've become a little overly cynical, but you and I both know my dad is well past his prime. That if this is some ploy for you to get yourself a new Ironman, you better make sure I don't find out or you won't have to worry about ageing another day."
Full circle
After the whole thing with Franklin losing control of his powers it was impossible to keep my involvement quiet. It took less than twenty four hours for the public and the papers to put together my identity. After all, how many ginger headed tech wizzes could hang out with the avenger kids?
I didn't withdraw from school though. Call me a stubborn bastard, but I was too close to graduating to just give up, especially given how I had done this one the long way.
Astrid and Toby were good about suddenly finding themselves dragged into the limelight. Actually, only Toby was dragged—Astrid's cover had been blown about as sky high as mine, but still. It was kind of disgusting how quickly I went from just being that one kid in class to being everyone's best friend.
The only person whose attitude towards me didn't change was my advanced engineering professor and that meant the world to me. I had always been more advanced in the class than most (which wasn't surprising—I already had degrees in the subject from MIT) but instead of telling me how good I was, like ever teacher I had since I was six, he ALWAYS found some minor flaw or a way I could still improve but he wasn't a douche about it.
To him I was just another gifted kid; nothing else mattered.
"Your final exam will be a practical one," he said, motioning to a collection of plastic tubs at the front of the classroom. "It will count for one hundred percent of your final grade. Each of you will draw a number from this bag and that will tell you what box is yours. You will have three hours to build something—anything—out of what's inside."
I wanted to laugh out loud. Of all the assignments I could have asked for as my last final, this had to be the best. If my dad could cobble together the Mark I suit out of a box of scraps in a cave, I'm sure I could manage.
"This will be an individual exam but you are welcome to bounce ideas off of your fellow students," he said and everyone knew what he meant: if you need help ask someone and you might not fail. Shit. Why did I get the feeling that I knew who was going to get a lot more popular over the next three hours? "And you can use the internet and/or your textbooks. This test is not about how many facts you remember; it's about whether or not you have what it takes to make it in this profession.
"You will be graded on how imaginative your design is, how well it is executed, and how well you did in comparison to your classmates."
He called us up in alphabetical order to draw lots. The tubs all had the lids tightly closed so there was no point trying to peak at the supplies.
When it was my turn, I walked up to the front of the class and stuck my hand into the bag just like everyone else. Unlike everyone else (I'm assuming) I felt Professor Lee's fingers slip a piece of paper into my hand. He was rigging the game.
I had to hand it to the old frog, he was good. No one else could have seen it. I could have been just as sneaky and dropped the paper back in the bag and he couldn't have called me out on it, but I didn't. I was too curious.
My bin wasn't heavy and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. At least not until I sat down and opened it.
After examining the contents I couldn't help but stare at Professor Lee with a mixture of exasperation and anger. Why were people always doing this kind of shit to me? I could get Astrid; that's just her nature. But Professor Lee? Really?
The box was filled with toasters, coffee pots, radios, remote controls and a few sets of busted headphones. There wasn't a damn thing I could do with this. I mean, yeah, I could repair the radio or something but that wasn't what he wanted.
Fuck my life.
"Uh, professor?" The boy next to me asked, "do you really think this is the most fair way to test what we have learned this semester?"
I looked at Erick and knew that's not what he was really objecting to. He didn't like the idea that everyone was going to be compared to each other. More importantly, he didn't like the idea that he was going to be compared to me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be a braggart here—I'm just being honest—me getting top marks here was almost guaranteed and everyone knew it.
"Mr. Donavan, I have been giving the same final for the last twenty years. I don't give a rat's ass if you think it's fair. If you object to my testing methods you are welcome to leave."
Erick sank down so deep in his chair that I thought he was going to fall out. Good. That asshat deserved it. I knew professor Lee was lying. He did care about it being fair and that's why he rigged it. Now that I knew that, I was glad I didn't drop that paper, no matter how much it wound up screwing me over. Damn Uncle Steve and his fucking unbeatable moral compass.
"Any more stupid questions?" the professor asked.
A shy girl in the front row—Amy, I think it was—raised her hand. "You said that we were allowed to get help from other people, does that mean we are allowed to trade for components we need?"
Good god let it be yes. Come on… give me a fighting chance here…
"I care about the final product. I don't care how you get it." He said before propping his feet up and opening the paper. We knew then the subject was closed.
"Time's ticking." He said, not looking up from the paper. And we knew it was time to get to work.
I tried to take a good look at what everyone had and tried to get an idea. There was no way I could do anything with what I had; I was going to have to do some heavy trading and I didn't have much worth trading. At least not when it came to supplies.
It didn't take long for me and Amy to team up. She probably drew the best lot when it came to what was actually in the tubs but she wasn't the most imaginative when it came to her designs. So our partnership was only natural.
Everything was going fine until about two hours into the exam, when I heard Erick being a prick. I shouldn't have been surprised. Earlier he had enjoyed making comments about what Amy and I were really trading. Why should I have expected his silence to be permanent?
"Don't listen to him." Amy muttered as she started splicing wires together. The heavy lifting was done on both of our projects so all that was really left were a few important details to settle and then be both could get away from this asshat.
"I'm not. He's got noting important to say, but his constant chatter is annoying." Amy shrugged; there was nothing either of us could really do.
"—probably what he wants. After all if his dad kicks the bucket, doesn't he get more money than god? But you'd think he'd at least pretend to care."
My head whipped around at the insult. Erick just smirked.
"Now you pretend to care. A little late isn't it?"
Normally I didn't give jerks like him a moment of my time, but there was something in his voice that made me think he was telling the truth. There was just and extra level of smugness that came with using the truth against your opponents.
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
The crocodile grin that spread across his face was enough to make anyone hit him, but knew better. As satisfying as it would be, it would not be worth it in the end.
"Oh, he pretends he doesn't know when it's been blasting on every news network for the last twenty minutes?"
"Listen here asshat; don't talk about me like I'm not here. What. Are. You. Talking. About?" My mind was quickly going through all the ways to do serious damage to an enemy James and Sev had taught me. Even though I had decided that it was best not to touch him, it couldn't hurt to fantasize.
And honestly I was surprised. I mean I know Professor Lee said we could use our phones and tablets and stuff, but what college kid actually looks at the news? I mean really?
"Oh my god, Howard." Amy whispered in horror from behind me. While Erick and I were exchanging banter, she had done the smart thing and brought up the news on her phone.
I took the phone from her and watched as a kind of fear I hadn't known since I was three gripped me and wouldn't let go.
The video was being broadcasted live from every major news station and from the grainy quality I could tell it was probably from a security camera with a lucky view. I drowned out whatever the announcer was saying. That didn't matter. All that mattered was what the footage showed.
My dad was fighting some douche in bulky red armor—it looked like it was heavily based off of my dad's earlier designs for the suite. That's not what had my spine feeling like a popsicle.
War Machine was lying face down in the mud, his armor cracked and crumbling. My dad didn't fare much better. He was resting on his knees, in the process of getting up from the same position. His helmet knocked clean off his head and his face was already bruising behind the split lip and slashed eyebrow.
The other guy didn't have a scratch on him. There was no way my dad could win.
"So now he pretends to care." Erick said, sneering. If I hadn't have been in such shock then, I would have found myself wondering how an ass like that made it out of high school.
"Close your mouth Erick, your ass is showing." Amy said, snatching the phone back. She could see what I was going to do even before I did.
I bolted out the door. Fuck the final, fuck the rules, and fuck that asshole. This was my dad we were talking about.
I ran down the deserted halls and out the door of the science building, pulled my own phone out of my pocket and hit one of the numbers on speed dial. I was surprised when Nick picked up on the first ring.
"I take it you saw the news." It wasn't a question. Of course not. Why else would I be calling him right now when I was supposed to be in the middle of a final? His voice had no hint of agitation. He wasn't worried so obviously he either knew something I didn't or he had already written my dad off as just another lost asset and moved on.
A part of me kind of hoped it was the latter. I needed something to hit today and that would have been just the reason I needed. Even if Fury could hand my ass to me with his good eye closed and his hands tied behind his back.
"Where are the Avengers?" I asked pacing back and forth, my voice far more raw than I expected¸ "Why haven't you sent back up?" The trees over the half-hidden bike path kept most of the sunlight from falling on me but I still shouldn't be shivering like this in early May.
"There's no one that can get there in time," Fury's mask of baddassness cracked and I could hear the tiredness behind it but that didn't stop me from taking my frustrations out on him.
"What do you mean, there's dozens of them!" that was the whole point of the Avengers—to take on the bad guys that would destroy a single hero, right? To be each other's back up? To make sure things like this didn't happen
"The closest ones are on the east coast. It will take at least an hour to get them to New Mexico and by then…"
Nick didn't have to finish.
"So you're not even going to try?" I shouted and a flock of bird took flight. "Than what was the point of all this?" what was the point of all the missed birthdays, anniversaries, and all the times mom and I had been forced to stay by his bedside while he healed from some Avengers related injury? What was the point of my father giving everything to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers if they just left him out in the cold the first time he needed them?
"Of course we're going to try. I have the entire National Guard out there right now—not that it's doing much good—and we have back up on its way. You have to prepare yourself for the possibility that it won't get there in time. This one's all on your dad,"
If I hadn't been so focused on my own horror I would have heard the weary tone in Fury's voice. He was as worried as I was. But I didn't care. He was the one who could save him—or at least arrange for help. He was the one who could do something. Not me…
In that one second between that time Fury condemned my dad to death and when I responded, I had an epiphany. It was a horrible, consuming thought I could not escape. This was the moment I had been waiting for and dreading—the moment everyone had been telling me was coming and I had fought every inch of the way. There was only one way this could end.
"No he's not." I said simply before hanging up on Nick Motherfuncking Fury.
I hit another number on my speed dial—one significantly higher than Fury's ever would ever be. The seconds it took to ring seemed to take forever. Finally on the third ring she answered.
"Astrid, I need you to get over here now." I said before she had time to say anything. She would hear the urgency in my voice and know this was serious. Before my phone was back in my pocket she was standing there in front of me.
Her hair was wet and wrapped only in a dark blue bathrobe. She had rushed over here so fast it wouldn't surprise me if she had left the shower on in her wake.
Her brows furrowed at the look on my face, but I didn't give her a chance to ask questions. There was just no time.
"Home. Now." I demanded, grabbing her arm. She blinked in surprise but didn't say anything.
"My home." I clarified, staring into her green eyes. After a brief flash of confusion she understood my meaning. What I needed wasn't at the apartment.
"What's going on?" she asked the moment we got to my workshop, for once her voice had none of the confidence that had defined her. It was all a quiet, horrible curiosity, like maybe she didn't want to know. After all there was only so much that could get me worked up like this.
I went straight to the security panel on the back wall and began to enter the codes needed to get into my project vault.
I knew all those months ago that there was little denying Franklin's words; chances were that I was going to get dragged into this life kicking and screaming, but no amount of heel dragging would make fate follow my will over her own. And maybe he was wrong, but everyone knew it's better to be prepared for something that will never happen than get caught with you pants down when it does.
And so I built a suit. It wasn't like my dad's—not exactly, it couldn't have been. Dad's design depends heavily on the miniaturized arc reactor embedded in his chest and the suit Rhodey "stole" had heavy modifications so that the mini-arc could be contained within the suit itself.
Mine was only BAISED on dad's design—although they had a similar look, they were had a lot of differences. The most obvious was that mine was more portable. I didn't need a briefcase to carry mine around.
My suit used the solid holographic technology my dad used to make James's shield. When I wasn't wearing it, it looked like a pair of shoes, a belt, and four thick cuffs. I knew that if I was going to do this I wasn't going to do it half-assed. I had to make my suit MY suit and not just a copy of my dad's.
My original designs called for it to be stored in the hollow parts of human bone—my bones—as a precaution against theft, but I haven't figured out a way to update it after implantation, so that will have to wait.
"Have you seen the news?" I didn't look at her as I ran a few of the more important systems checks before I put on the suit. There was no time for more, but it would do no one any good to get myself killed on takeoff.
"Dad and Rhodey…" I whispered.
"Are they alright?" That's not what she was asking, but I don't think she could bring herself to say the real word. I knew she didn't care about Rhodey past the fact that his death would hurt me and my dad—she only known him distantly—but she was worried about my dad, her uncle Tony.
"No, but they're not dead yet either." I said, snapping the wide metal cuffs onto my upper arms and thighs and pulling on the shoes. "At least as far as I know."
I pressed a button on my belt and I could instantly feel the coldness of liquid metal caressing every inch of my skin at the same time. The suit extended from every component until the metal had covered everything but my head.
"How do I look?" I ask in a casual voice that sounded forced even to me.
Astrid looked like she wanted to cry and I wasn't sure why. Could it be that she was sad for me? That she was right and everything I wanted was out of my grasp? Was she mourning for me—that I had lost what I had always wanted?
She gave a little nod.
After Franklin's warning, I had spent a lot of time thinking about what I really wanted out of life –and I'm not just talking about being an Avenger. He was right, there were some things in life that were just unavoidable and I needed to accept that. What he hadn't intended (or at least I'm assuming) was for me to apply that to my life beyond the shadow of my father. I had to know if there was any other inevitability I had forced myself to be oblivious to and there was.
For as long as I could remember Astrid had always been the first thing I thought about when I woke up and the last thing I thought about before I went to sleep at night. The thoughts weren't romantic and I think that's what threw me off. I mean that's only natural when she was your only friend but that didn't change even later when my claustrophobic social circle widened.
I had never realized that the friendship I held so dear had caught fire and ignited into something more. During those long hours huddled in my workshop examining more than just technical components I was forced to admit one simple truth: somewhere along the long hard rode that got me here, I had fallen head over heals in love with my best friend.
Poor, silly girl. Didn't she know that the only thing I ever really wanted was the only thing I knew would never leave me?
I cupped her cheek with my hand, whipping her tears away with my thumb. I had never seen her this unguarded even around me, and even through the tears it was beautiful.
"The color doesn't suit you at all," she whispered, trying to push that mask of hers back into place. I cracked a weary little half smile. I hadn't had time to paint it any other color but the silver the alloy naturally came in.
I don't know what made me do it but I knew I would never regret it. The kiss could have lasted forever had the situation not been so dire but it was just as passionate as anything could ever be and I found myself wondering why I hadn't done it before. I mean it wasn't like I hadn't thought about it but no moment had ever seemed as perfect for a first kiss than then one like now—one that could be one of the last I'll ever have.
As the thought hit her she broke off the kiss with a choked sob. Taking a slow step backwards she looked at me and took a deep breath.
"Go be the hero I always knew you'd have to be." Her voice was cracking and I wanted to ask her what she meant by that but she was right. I didn't have time for this. Not now.
I gave her one fragile smile before engaging my helmet and taking off.
In all honesty the flying thing rocked. It wasn't so much like I was strapped to a rocket it was like I was the rocket. I only allowed myself to enjoy the complete freedom for a moment before kicking my head back into the game.
"KAT?" I asked, making sure the AI was online. Maybe I should have done that before I left but I was understandably a bit preoccupied.
"Yes, Mr. Stark?" he said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had designed the suit to be maneuverable (and flyable) even if the systems got shut down, but still navigating would be a bitch.
"Call Fury."
"What is it Howard? I think you're smart enough to know I have better things to do right now than listen to you wine about how I should be doing my job." He sounded tired and cranky and it was obviously a bad day for him. Well too damn bad, it was bad for everyone.
"Right now Fury I don't give a rat's ass how you do your job. All I care about is if you let me do mine. First off send me everything you have on whoever they're up against and second tell your friends in the guard not to waste their ammo."
"I see." He said, guessing the rest.
I had spent enough time around Astrid, Sev, and Loki—lifelong liars—to know how to pick up on even the most subtle nuances in a person's voice.
"Fury," I said right before he was going to hang up. Anyone one else would be too scared shitless to say what I was about to, especially to Nick Fury and normally I would be too. I guess I was high on adrenaline or something because the words came tumbling out of my mouth before I could even think to stop them.
"Maybe I've spent too much time around Astrid and have become a little overly cynical, but you and I both know my dad is well past his prime. I'm not sure why he refuses to retire the suit but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that if this is some ploy for you to get yourself a new Ironman—one fresher—while convincing my dad that the world would be safe without him, well then infinity formula keeping you forever middle aged or not, you better make sure I don't find out or you won't have to worry about ageing another day. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yeah kid, I hear you," he said with a snort, "and it's a damn good thing I have nothing to hide."
"That it is." I said hanging up, not sure if I believed him or not. It didn't matter though. I wouldn't look for proof—he is my Uncle Nick, after all—and he is smart enough to take the warning. If it was a ploy, he'll cover his tracks well and I'll never have to know. Which is good because it was something I would never WANT to know.
I looked over the information he sent, trying to remember every detail I could before I landed. The Crimson Dynamo was originally something like a Soviet version of the Ironman suit. When the iron curtain fell, it got a few upgrades still staying just enough behind the times to never be as formidable as it could be.
It was weird though. At one point Dad had been on good terms with the pilot but I guess times change and people change even faster in the superhero world.
Preliminary reports say that this guy was a little different than his forefathers. There was no way to tell who was inside, but I was more concerned about the armor. It had a pretty impressive array of weapons that could (and did) put War Machine's to shame. And I'm not talking the flimsy Hammer industries shit. No. This stuff was either originally Stark tech that had been modified to keep up with the times or one hell of a knock off.
The weapons were a problem but not an insurmountable one. The real threat was the armor itself. All the attacks that had been set towards it just deflected away. It was just like Uncle Steve's shield, which was bad.
Fury's report suggests that the Russians (or whoever this guy was working for) somehow got their hands on enough Vibrainium to make a really good alloy. Fuck.
I landed, one knee touching the ground with both fingers joining them for support. Note to self: practice landings.
The overly theatrical entrance hadn't been planned but I figured I might as well run with it. Just before I raised my head slowly to face my opponent, a flash of color caught my eye. Where my entire suit had been fresh from the factory silver before, now it was painted like my dad's but instead of red and gold mine was blue and silver. Her blue.
I would have laughed had the situation not been so dire. She had dressed me in her colors like a princess giving her knight a token before battle. Well, she got the princess thing right but while I had never figured she would be content on the sidelines I knew she would never be caught dead playing the hero.
"Who's that? Did you give out another suit?" I could hear Rhodey asking dad over the com system. "Cause I thought we talked about this."
"I don't know. JARVIS says that all my suits are accounted for. Whoever it is must have built—" dad trailed off and I could tell all the pieces were clicking into place. I wanted to look at him and give a nod or something but knew it was best not to right now. KAT was running diagnostic on Dynamo's suit and I couldn't afford for him to attack before I knew his weakness—that's where the theatrics come in.
"Oh god. Tell me that's not you, Howard."
"Oaky, it's not you." I could hear him groan although whether if it was because of my smart mouth or because it was actually me in the suit I couldn't say for sure. Probably both.
"Pepper is going to kill you." Rhody muttered. I was just about to respond when I realized he wasn't talking to me.
"Me why? I had nothing to do with it." Dad said. I rolled my eyes. For a man who spent most of his life chasseing women, he sure as hell didn't know much about them.
"I don't think Pepper's going to care."
"Guys, let's focus here. Try rebooting; I'll try and buy you some time."
"Oh no, you are going to take your ass back to the house and let the grownups handle it." Dad said and I almost laughed. Of all the times for him to decide to act like an adult. …
"Oaky, as soon as you are booted enough to make me, I will." I said, not bothering to argue with them. And I was right. They didn't have the juice to really do anything right now. Which was kind of the point of me being here.
Life has wonderful logic sometimes, right? Or would irony be a better word? I guess it doesn't matter.
"I have crushed Ironman and his friend, I can crush you." The computerized tone of his voice didn't do much to hide the thick stereotypical Russian accent.
"We'll see." There was one thing he didn't consider. Dad and Rohdy had a certain fighting style. They tended to hover above the action and use ordnance. There was nothing wrong with that but it wasn't the way I did thing.
I had learned to fight by sparing with people who came from warrior cultures and people who were trained by uncle Steve—the same man who taught all Avengers that your powers were only a tool in battle, you couldn't depend on them completely. I had always learned to get up close and personal. At least more so than my dad ever did.
Chances were pretty good that this guy would be bogged down by the weight and stiffness of his suit—most nock offs were—so I decided speed was my first order of attack but I couldn't be direct about it. there were too many assumptions in that plain for me to be comfortable with.
I took a step to the left and he mirrored me. Another three steps and it became a dance, neither of us willing to make the first move; both fighting to be black on the chessboard. Alright, I could live with that; that just meant I had to be a little sneaky.
I bolted to the side, counting on him to follow me. And he did—I had a good four second head start—but he was falling into my trap easily. Perhaps a little too easily, but I wasn't thinking about that right then. Big mistake, right?
With a boost it didn't take the full head start to jump onto the roof of one of the ware houses that dotted this part of the New Mexico desert. I watched as the Dynamo turned the corner and looked around. Had I have been smarter, I wouldn't have gone for the overhead attack. It was too close to my dad's tactics and hadn't I just been bragging that my advantage lied in how different my fighting was to his?
I jumped down, intending to land on his back and grab his neck, constricting the helmet of his suit and disturbing the air pressure in the suit thus really screw up the internal temperature of his armor (with the temperature it was outside he would quickly melt under all that metal, making my job all that much easier), or maybe if I was lucky, I could completely destroy any chance of accessing the data readouts from his sensors.
No luck. His reactions were a lot better than I expected. With a single swing of his arm he hit me like a bat mid fall. The wind blew out of me as I went sprawling backwards through at least a dozen concrete walls before landing in the harsh, abrasive dirt at my father's feet.
I tried to get up but was immediately sore. Yep, I was so going to feel that in the morning.
"You don't think I tried that?" Dad asked over the comm, sarcasm and weariness dripping from every syllable.
"Well I figured I would do it again." I snapped back as I attempted to sit up. he would be here soon and I had a few tricks up my sleeve. If I could stand up, that is.
I winced as the gravel shifted under my feet. Nothing was broken—my suit had provided enough protection—but I knew I would be nursing several deep bruises and knots when this was all over. The part of me that was a born engineer was trying to figure out where I went wrong with my suit even as I watched the Dynamo closing the distance between us.
I looked down. Dad and Rohdy were still floor bound, probably due to enough damage to just the right portions of the suits or maybe even a high powered EMP. Whoever this Dynamo was, he knew what he was doing. Great. I had to pick a hard one for my debut. Why couldn't it have been some HYDRA agents or something? Oh right, because I was the genius who insisted on waiting until an enemy appeared that was strong enough to beat both existing suits and they actually needed help.
The Dynamo stood facing me and I had a random flash to one of those classic westerns; the sheriff and the outlaw at high noon, guns drawn and both knowing only one would walk away. Too bad it was beginning to look like I was going to be the dead to his quick.
I flexed my fingers, subtlety powering up the tiny repulsors that dotted my hands. They weren't built to fire from far away like dads, but they were sure to hurt a whole lot more when they made contact.
Taking a deep breath of ultra-filtered oxygen, I charged forward.
I managed to grab his shoulder, melting some of the metal to his skin before he screamed. Within a fraction of a second my face hit his fist and I went flying backwards again, skidding along the dried, cracked ground until I hit a wall shoulder first. The force of me hitting it knocked the base out of balance and several tons of concrete fell on my already pounding head.
But Dynamo wasn't done with me yet. He grabbed my ankle with his one good arm and drug me out from under the rubble before throwing me like a rag doll in the other direction. If I survived this I was going to have to ask Bruce if he had any relatives in Russia become this thing had a temper like the Hulk.
I skidded another hundred yards or so before I ran out of momentum. Dynamo walked over, clutching at his shoulder. It had to be killing him—not literally of course, that would just be a little too convenient.
Every muscle in my body was screaming in protest at the effort it took to breath.
"Starkling, know that you have made my victory complete. Not only do I get to defeat Ironman and his sidekick," Rohdy let out a shout of protest, "but before I kill them, they will watch your slow and painful death, Starkling."
He put his boot on my neck and slowly started to apply pressure. I should have been able to get out of this but not in the shape I was in now. I had set out to save my dad and had only managed to force him to watch my death before biting it himself. Great job, dipshit.
"Howard!" dad screamed before franticly shouting off a list of commands to JARVIS, none of which worked to get his suit online.
The Dynamo gave a full-bodied laugh before increasing the pressure on his foot. I could feel as the metal began giving in ever so slightly, before I heard the sound of micro cracks forming in the alloy. It wouldn't be long now.
"Starkling? Not bad for a hero name… better than Ironlad or whatever unimaginative dribble the media is bound to come up with when this is over." I couldn't move my head but I would know that voice anywhere.
I was relieved to see (hear) her here; if there was one person I was sure could save me from my own stupidity, it was Astrid. God knows she's already made a career of it.
A part of me was surprised that she had come, completely decked out in Asguardian armor. She had long ago made it clear that playing hero wasn't her game of choice. Hell, knowing her she would take far more pleasure in playing villain.
The pressure let up suddenly and I could breath, but perhaps not enough. I had just enough time to hear the shattering of frozen metal and the scream of a severally frost bitten creep before I passed out.
When I woke, I couldn't move. I mean really, it hurt to blink my eyes. Every inch of me felt like it had been used as a punching bag to a Hulk knock off…which really wasn't that far from the truth.
Somethings weren't clicking in my head, like what happened to dad and Rohdy, how did I get home, and what happened after I blacked out. A part of me was in too much pain to really care, and yet my mouth kept moving as if on autopilot. Whatever the hell was wrong with me immediately took a back seat to my nagging questions.
"What happened?" I groaned, summarizing just about every concern bouncing around in my severally abused skull.
There was a snort. "You decided to play hero and wound up being used as a ping-pong ball." Sev said, standing against the doorframe.
I groaned and let my head fall back to my pillow, trying desperately to ignore the pain shooting down my neck.
"Dad and Rohdy?" I asked half in fear and yet half sure that fear was unfounded.
Astrid snickered from the corner. "They are well, but I would avoid your mother as much as possible if I were you."
"What do you mean?" I asked, staring up at the ceiling. The moment the words left my mouth, I knew what she meant. Mommy was mad at me, and a mad mommy does not make for a happy Howie.
"Why do you think it is that I have not healed more than the most serious of your wounds? Pepper has forbidden it."
Oh mom was pissed if she wanted me to suffer so much. And what the hell? After the moment Astrid and I shared, why the hell was she even listening? All the adults knew that telling her to do something (or not to do something) was taken more as a suggestion anyways. No one would have been surprised if she didn't listen.
Actually, knowing Astrid, that was probably the reason she wasn't doing anything: because it was expected of her. Normally I was all for her bought of capriciousness, but did it really have to be now? I mean really, could she have found a different time to defy expectations.
"I'm listening because I agree." She said reading my thoughts.
I sighed, exhausted. "You're the one who told me to go play hero." It wasn't meant to be an accusation but I could feel her eyes narrow at me.
Now it was her turn to sigh. "Howard, you were going to do it anyways. I could have physically stopped you, but that would have done little good in the long run. Your folly lies in the fact that you did not listen to us. You thought that just having the suit would be enough and so I was forced to play hero when you faced a foe you were far from ready for."
My eyes rolled behind my eyelids. A part of me didn't understand what she was so upset about. It was like I was caught in a catch twenty two: if I didn't play this game I had been born into then I was bound to lose someone I care about, and yet if I did, I was just as dammed.
As much as I seemed otherwise, I really didn't have a choice unlike…
"Astrid?" I asked as an odd thought struck me, "Why did you do it? You hated the idea of playing hero more than I ever did."
Sev stood in the corner watching as he buried his knuckle in his mouth in a really poor attempt to hide his mirth. Stupid yeti bastard. Here I was in pain and having to deal with his capricious ass sister and he was laughing at me? Big brother, my ass.
Astrid looked at me like I was stupid—and maybe in a lot of ways I was—but it seemed a fair enough question.
"I was never playing the hero," that's not what you said a few seconds ago.
"I was acting as your back-up, Howard," she said, cupping my face in her soft, cold hand. "And there is an entire universe of difference."
I opened my mouth to say something but for the life of me, I couldn't tell you what. It was odd to see Astrid so unguarded and yet at the same time it was perfectly natural. What could I say to that rare bit of raw honesty? Thank you? It would all be okay? Nothing seemed quite right.
"Guys, company." Sev warned, pulling us out of our moment. I wanted to hit him, really I did. finally I get my head out of my ass enough to see just I had really felt about his sister, and now she and I couldn't get a moment alone to discuss it…not that that was Sev's fault. I guess without him we would have had a much bigger audience.
But still… a big part of me was itching to know just what had changed in our relationship. Had we really made headway or were we just going to brush it off in an attempt to keep the awkwardness out of our friendship? Blame it on the heat of the moment or something?
Astrid looked at me out of the corner of her eye and I knew she had heard everything. Good. Maybe I'll get some answers.
Oh Howard, she said, her thoughts overshadowing my own, we are just as we always were. Why need anything change?
Every nerve in my body screamed and it had nothing to do with the bruises. What the hell did she mean by that? She had, in her typical, infuriating way, answered nothing and left my far too active imagination to fill in the blanks.
Before I could even vomit out the worries spinning around in my head, a loud bang sounded through the room as Toby threw open the door to my bedroom.
"Dude that was awesome! You were like bam, and they were like pow and then you were like screwed." He said, showing more hyper energy than Pym after he got ahold of pixy styx. He was in full on fanboy mode—complete with horribly inaccurate and overly dramatic reenactment—and I couldn't help but be worried for his sanity.
"And then Astrid was all like 'I got this bitch" and does in one move what you and your dad" he forgot Rohdy, "got your ass kicked trying to do."
He flopped down on the couch in the corner and leaned his head back, exhausted.
I stared at him, my mind completely blown. This guy was two years old and was acting like a six year old that just got to see a fire truck for the first time. I was kind of embarrassed for him…but then again, I knew that had the timing been a little different I would have felt the same way about the first time I flew the suit.
"How do you know all this?" I muttered."
Toby snorted. "Youtube." Of course.
"Why didn't you tell me you were building a suit?" He asked, picking his head up off the armrest and looking at me. I could tell he was hurt but I didn't know why.
"Because he was going to build one for you for your birthday." Astrid deadpanned.
Did she have to say that? If the poor kid's mind was melting at the thought of me having a suit, then who knows what would happen if he really believed Astrid's bullshit.
"Really?" he asked, but I could tell deep down he knew better.
"No." I said, ignoring the little look Astrid gave me at cutting off her fun. Normally I was all for a little mischief but sometimes there was a fine line between that and cruelty and when it came to people I actually liked, I tried to give that line a wide berth.
He gave a little groan. "I guess I'm just going to have to keep living vicariously through you."
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked, confused. Toby wasn't trying to be hostile but I could hear an undercurrent of it hiding in his tone.
A part of me was afraid. Was this the beginning of the end for us? It's not like I had much experience in the friendship department…at least not ones where they had any real reason to bring envy into play and I've seen enough chick flicks to know that that kind of situation rarely turned out well.
As my thoughts continued to spiral down into dark possibilities, a dull pain shot down the back of my already bruised head.
"Ouch! What was that for?" I asked, rubbing the spot where Astrid hit me.
"Someone had to stop your overacting acting imagination before it ran away with your senses." She said, before turning to look at a still confused Toby. He stared for a second before deciding that he apparently didn't want to know.
"All I'm saying Starkey, is that, now, not only are you actually dating someone—"
"Astrid and I aren't dating." I said, still unsure just how true it was.
Sev snorted and I couldn't help but be annoyed. Okay, maybe I was a little quick to assume that I knew who he was talking about, but come on. Who else could it be?
"You're not?" He asked, honestly surprised, "I always kind of thought that you two were at least sleeping together, but you were just being quite about it. I mean, you guys where living together."
"Trust me Tobias; if we were fucking there would have been nothing quiet about it." Astrid said and I was far too used to that kind of talk to be embarrassed about it.
"Still, the closest I've ever been is when I imagine Natalie in princess Leia's bikini." I think he had been hanging around us too much if he was comfortable saying shit like that out loud. Apparently, I'm not the only one who thought so.
"Now there's an idea for ComCon."
Toby's expression was almost comical as he turned to face Natalie. His face had turned the same red as his shirt and his eyes widened to the size of hubcaps.
"And with all the skilled people I know, I bet we could get it to look really authentic and I heard those ComCon after parties get pretty wild." She said, pretending not to notice his embarrassment.
"You really shouldn't tease the boy like that," Sev said irritably, uncharacteristically coming to Toby's defense. But I guess the help was unwanted.
"Shhh!" Toby hissed, "Can't you see the lady is talking."
For such a nerd, he was actually able to put a bit of charm into it. I don't think he realized that it wasn't quite enough though; she wasn't even looking at him…not really.
"It sounds like a plain. You'll make a great Luke."
Ouch. Shot down and degraded to brother status in one move. And I thought Astrid was harsh.
"Natalie, quit being an ass." I said, not even bothering to hide my laughter at the dejected look on Toby's face. He really should have known better; really, all my friends are sharks when it comes to snark. I wasn't the only one snickering, and for a moment I was sure we were going to break out in an all- out banter war (which would have been a nice break from the fifty shades of crazy my life had taken on in the last few hours) but we never quite made it to that point.
"Er, guys?" Sev said, looking at the rest of my guest as he pressed his mouth in an odd sort of mirthful, solemn simile that couldn't have meant anything good. "It's time to go."
"Wha—" I began, as he turned to leave, motioning for the rest to follow him.
"Thank you Sev." A fiery voice said from behind me, causing my blood to freeze in my veins and it had nothing to do with Astrid's powers.
"Hey mom." I muttered sweetly, trying to play the injured kid card even though a blind monkey could have seen that it wouldn't have helped.
I was so fucked.
I stood breathing in the cool night air, trying to wash the echoes of my mother's screams from my memory. Just because I had predicted almost every word didn't make them hurt less.
Nothing she said could make me regret what I did; I knew I was in the right. I really didn't have a choice—it wasn't like I was doing this out of some narcissistic desire to get my name in the paper—and that was probably the only thing that saved me from her wrath. But she still had to vent. Oh god, did she ever.
I understood her anger—hell, a big part of me was angry at myself for getting mixed up in all this. She had spent over twenty years watching dad getting shot at, blown up, beaten, attacked by aliens, lose and regain the company and his fortune three different times (long story), his family targeted by countless psychos and I have lost count of what else. Now, just when dad is finally starting realize that he can't do this shit forever, I go and take on the mantel.
Still, just because I didn't blame her for feeling that way, didn't mean it was any easier to hear.
"You know she didn't mean it, right?" Astrid said, appearing behind me. Anyone else would have been startled at her sudden appearance, but not me. I was far too used to it to even look. Besides I knew she was around. Something inside me knew she wouldn't have gone far after healing me just in case she missed something.
"Of course she did." I said, calling her out on her lies.
"But that doesn't change anything. I know you, Howard. I can see the thoughts spinning in your head. You are going to keep wearing and improving the suit. It's not hard to see that you already have plains on what to do to it next." She said softly as she leaned against the balcony next to me and looked over the water.
"Actually…no." I could feel her looking at me disbelievingly before I corrected myself. "Not yet, at least. I've had too much on my mind."
"Such as?" she asked, and a part of me wondered why she didn't just read my thoughts—she never had a problem with it before—but one look at her face spoke volumes, even if I was the only one who could speak the langue. She knew that this was something I needed to talk about…out loud.
"Mom and…" I trailed off, hoping she would finish for me, but apparently my capricious goddess wasn't in a very magnanimous mood this evening. She just stared at me, expectantly.
I sighed.
"What did you mean earlier when you asked me if anything really has to change?" I asked, looking at her. Somehow I was able to keep all the lostness I felt out of my voice but that didn't necessarily mean Astrid didn't know it was there.
"What do you think I meant?" she asked, playfully.
"How the hell should I know?" I snapped, running my hand through my hair. With all that had happened today, my brain was fried. I was too mentally exhausted to think about things like this…not coherently at least.
Astrid sighed, her dark eyes just as tired as I felt.
"The feelings were always there. The fact that you just now grew the balls to admit it means nothing. We are as we always were because that's all we need to be." She said, giving me a deep lingering kiss before disappearing as if she had never been there, leaving me to still wonder what she meant by that.
But that's Astrid and I wouldn't have her another way.