Christmas, 2012
It was the perfect storybook Christmas and that made twelve year old Natalie happier than anything else in the world. She watched, content in her seat next to the window, as younger siblings tore open presents with all the energy and violence of little Hulks. Her parents sat across from her, on the couch, both cradling a cup of coffee. Not having it would probably result in their deaths. She'd never seen them without caffeine.
Outside, a fresh yard of snow twinkled and sparkled in the frosty December sunlight. Christmas lights shone, illuminating gray, leafless trees in bright colors. In the window pane glass, Natalie could see the reflection of the expertly decorated Christmas tree, laden with ornaments and candy canes. An angel sat regally on the top, smiling down at the family from above.
For the first time in Natalie's short existence, she'd achieved the perfect Christmas. Much begging and bothering had convinced her parents to have the tree set up and ready a whole week before the special day. Some clever bribing had resulted in Christmas lights draped about the trees, just like most of the other houses in her neighborhood. She'd worked tirelessly at achieving perfectly wrapped presents for each of her family members. She'd acted as a drill sergeant at ten that morning, and had managed to get everyone in the car and to church on time. They'd come back for the perfect, traditional brunch, prepared and cooked by Natalie and her mother the night before. It looked as if, for the first time ever, Christmas had happened the way it was supposed to.
"Natalie!" Her sister held up a small package. "This one's for you!"
Natalie grinned and climbed down from her chair. She had thought she'd opened all the presents there were for her, but this one had escaped her notice.
"Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas Natalie," she read. "Love mom and dad." Both her parents had Cheshire cat smiles. Natalie eagerly tore the package open. The Avengers stared back at her, weapons poised, ready for action. Around them, New York was in shambles.
Natalie shook it. Inside the movie case, the disc rattled. Her smile grew bigger.
"Thanks guys!"
Both of her brother's eyes widened.
"Natalie, can we watch it with you? Can we watch it with you?"
"Why don't we all watch it tonight, instead of 'It's a Wonderful Life'?" her mother suggested. Four enthusiastic yes's resonated through the room. Natalie kept the grin plastered on, but inwardly she felt disappointment physically surge through her chest. She'd wanted to watch 'It's a Wonderful Life'. 'The Avengers' wasn't a Christmas movie.
"Why don't we watch it tomorrow?" she offered.
Natalie was immediately vetoed.
Later that night, the family smushed themselves on the couch, and Natalie reluctantly inserted her new movie into the DVD player. The movie started.
Natalie did her best to focus on the Tesseract and Loki's attempted planetary takeover, but her mind kept on drifting back to the same thoughts.
It wasn't fair. For the first time in her life, it had almost been the perfect Christmas. Almost everything had gone right, but this little thing just had to ruin it. Why couldn't everything just go according to plan? What could she have done to make everything work perfectly?
Maybe if she had just protested a little bit harder, or made up some excuse on the importance of watching 'the Avengers' another day. Maybe she could've used the birthday girl excuse, or insisted that it was her movie and she got to decide when to watch it.
By the time Tony Stark was driving the nuclear missile into the wormhole to destroy all the aliens, Natalie had begun to feel miserable. When he'd begun to fall helplessly back towards Earth, an unhappy thought had wriggled its way into her mind. At the moment the end credits had rolled and her family was laughing at the shwarma scene, Natalie had pasted a neutral look on her face, because anything else would mean unwanted questions.
She decided she didn't believe in the perfect storybook Christmas anymore.
December 2017, Present Time
Natalie carelessly dropped the grocery bags into the backseat of her Chevy. Cans clanged and something made a suspicious cracking noise, but she wouldn't even care if someone took a lighter and set them aflame.
She slammed the door as hard as she could, and the entire car rattled. Natalie didn't bother putting her cart back, even though it pissed her off whenever other people left their carts out. She climbed into her seat. Her forehead sunk down to the wheel.
The tears started. Usually, Natalie was against doing it in her car, where any one of Jackson, Kansas' nosy residents could see, but she found that she didn't have the self control to pull herself back together when they'd begun to flow. She angrily glared at the stupid nail polish stain next to the gas pedal, and let the tears leak down her face.
"Did you get the groceries?" Natalie looked up from her phone at her mother. She winced.
"No, I'll get them now."
Natalie didn't even have a good reason. It wasn't like her boyfriend had broken up with her. Her dog hadn't died. She hadn't been diagnosed with cancer. Yet she still found herself acting pathetic, silent sobs shuddering through her body, nose clogging to the point that she had to open her mouth to breathe.
"Why did you forget it?"
She hated the fact that she wasn't grateful. Her parents weren't drunks. They weren't addicts. How many faces did she see at school every day that had that at home?
Natalie hesitated. "I'm sorry. It slipped my mind, I-"
But they were a little irresponsible. A little messy. Little things. Why did the little things have to get to Natalie? Why couldn't the little things be unimportant?
Her mother huffed. "You need to stop forgetting things. Please, please try harder to remember."
Natalie did her best to keep the hurt out of her tone. "I'm doing my best."
Natalie hated it when people blamed emotion on hormones. When you told someone that you were unhappy, and they blamed it on chemicals. She hated the fact that she cared. Just puny words, and they left her acting like some melodramatic teen from a soap opera.
"It's not enough, Natalie!"
'It's never enough,' Natalie had replied, with an icy tone. Not shouted. She never shouted. Natalie was quiet, and that's how things were.
"Just go get the groceries." Natalie knew an unspoken dismissal when she heard it. She swiped the keys from the counter, and turned her back on her mother's aggravated face.
It hadn't even qualified as an argument. A bit of tension, and it had her sobbing like it was the end of the world. Natalie hated it.
Her keys hung limply from her hand. She couldn't find the strength to put them in the ignition and drive back home. Being home drained her. Natalie wasn't sure why.
Her parents demands weren't unreasonable. They were demands she easily should've been able to meet. Don't forget the groceries, take the trash out, keep the kitchen clean. Normal things.
Why couldn't she just do everything right?
Natalie just wanted to leave. Just to put the key in the ignition, with the intent of going away, of leaving, anywhere but home, because she was-
A knock on her window interrupted her inner monologue.
"Hello," Came the muffled voice.
Natalie frantically wiped at her soggy face with her sleeve, pushed whisps of hair out of her eyes, and did her best to look like a decent human being. The last thing she wanted to do was confront one of her nosy neighbors with snot dripping down her chin.
She looked up.
Robert fricking Downey fricking Jr. stared at her through the window, a rather bland look on his face.
"I need a ride to Los Angeles."
Natalie blinked, then blinked again, because she'd forgotten to wear waterproof mascara and some had just dripped into her eye.
"Um… sure."
Was she hallucinating?
"Okay, good." He offered a blinding smile that managed to look extremely apathetic. "I've got a time limit. Could you at least roll down the window so I'm not having to talk through the glass?"
Somewhere in the back of Natalie's mind, somebody said something about stranger danger, but she found herself turning on the car and rolling down the window anyways.
A blast of cool, December air hit her in the face. She shivered.
Robert fricking Downey fricking Jr. held up a Ziploc bag stuffed full with hundred dollar bills.
"I'll pay you, but that means no selfies with me for your tumblr and I pick the radio stations. Like I said, I'm got a time limit, so we drive through the night. Any problem with that?"
"...No."
Natalie should have a problem with that. Why wasn't her mouth telling him she had a problem with that?
"One last thing." For the first time, he looked at her intently, with an expression of interest. "Are you a fan?"
"...Kind of."
Natalie had had a Robert Downey Jr phase back in her late tweens early teens, but she'd had more important things to worry about since then, like surviving high school. The last movie she'd watched with him in it had been Avengers: Age of Ultron. But she wasn't sure how the actor would react to anything else.
He sighed dramatically. "Close enough. Just pretend you're my greatest fan, spend the next twenty seven hours in shocked silence, and we'll get along great."
Fricking RDJ sauntered over to the other side of the car. Numbly, Natalie unlocked it, and he smoothly slid in.
At that point, her body was starting to catch up. Her heart was thumping wildly and her hands were shaking slightly.
What was she doing? What had she just agreed to do? What was going on? She couldn't drive to Los Angeles! Her parents would kill her! She wasn't even eighteen yet! Did he even realize she wasn't over eighteen? Why was one of the most famous actors in the world in Nowhere, Kansas asking random teenage girls for a ride to Los Angeles?
For a moment, Natalie almost told him she'd changed her mind. There was no way she could do this. She had turned her head in his direction, stared at him blankly, her mouth opening as if she were to speak.
RDJ had elegantly raised an eyebrow.
"Second thoughts?" he asked.
Something welled up within Natalie. She suddenly felt invincible, dangerously so, like she could do anything and it wouldn't hurt. All semblance of logic fled. She reached up a shaking hand, and touched her tear stained cheek. It was slightly sticky, still a bit damp to the touch.
She had an ideal life, with a great boyfriend, fine parents, and a decent job at a local diner. Natalie's life was great.
But it was missing something.
Her heart seemed to beat out of her chest at the very thought of what she was about to do.
She took a deep breath.
"Nope." Natalie's voice was surprisingly steady. "Not at all."
She fished her phone out of her pocket, and with a viciousness that she hadn't known she had within her, threw it out the window. It slid across the cement, and slammed into a curb. The screen left a trail of glass shards, glittering in the sunlight like mystical diamonds from some fantasy fairytale.
RDJ's fricking eyebrow rose even higher.
"Right. Now that you've got whatever that was out of your system, can we go? I really am in a time crunch."
A hundred thousand objections voiced themselves in her head. Natalie couldn't just leave. She had chores. There were groceries in the car, and some of them needed to be refrigerated. Her face was a mess. She hadn't brought a proper coat and she was wearing flip flops. It was the middle of December! She'd just thrown her phone out the window.
The irrational, invincible side of Natalie spoke before logic could make its way to her mouth.
"Sure."
"Great." The famous actor offered another empty, glued on, pearly white grin. "Drive then."
Irrational, invincible Natalie turned the keys in the ignition and began pulling out of the Wal-Mart parking lot. Her tires crunched gray gravel. Cold wind blew through the open window, and she quickly put it up. She pulled onto the road, only to realize she had no idea how to get to Los Angeles.
And she'd just thrown her GPS out the window.
Natalie eyed the famous actor out of the corner of her eye. He was staring out the window. She could see his reflection in the glass. Dark eyes were surrounded by equally dark circles. Disgruntled hair had been hastily combed in an attempt to make it look decent. A fine dusting of stubble covered the bottom half of his face. The gray tee he wore had wrinkles and a few specks of something brownish-yellow on the shoulder.
Suddenly she wondered what fricking Robert Downey Jr was doing in Jackson, Kansas, with a Ziploc bag of cash. Why hadn't he just called some fancy private car to come pick him up or something?
'I've got a time limit,' he'd said. Then why wasn't he having her drive him to the nearest airport?
Natalie almost asked him about it, but something about the expression on her face made her change her mind. Instead she decided to ask about GPS.
"Do you have GPS? I just threw mine out the window."
He didn't bother turning his head, but huffed in irritation. A little mist developed on the window where he'd just breathed, before dissipating.
"Yeah, sure. Great foresight kid."
He pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Natalie's head whipped to the side.
"Is that," she tried to keep the disbelief out of her voice. "A Starkphone?" Failed miserably.
The small rectangular device was light blue, and transparent. As she watched, he did a strange motion with his wrist, and it came to life. Little holograms floated up into the air, illuminating his face in an eerie light.
"Yes," he snapped. "Now keep your eyes on the road."
Natalie turned her head back in time to slam on the brakes at the red light, but she continued to glance back at him.
He still had that look on his face, the one that made her hesitant to ask questions. This time the questions were too big.
"How did you even get that? How is that even possible? What is going on?"
"I'm Tony Stark."
He'd said it so casually.
Natalie stared at the road in shocked silence long enough for the red light to turn green.
"Right. And I'm Captain America."
"Great. Glad we got that cleared up. Friday, can you get into this universe's GPS satellites and calculate the fastest route to Los Angeles?"
Natalie wasn't even sure how to process anymore. In a matter of minutes, she'd gone from bemoaning nothing to chauffeuring supposed Tony Stark to Los Angeles.
"Why are you even here?"
He spared her a glare.
"Classified. Don't ask questions."
A neat, Scottish lilt sounded from the device in fricking Tony Stark's hand.
"By car, the fastest route to Los Angeles, California is to take Cherry Ridge Rd to I-70, and follow that to I-64. In an approximate of twenty eight hours, including bathroom breaks, drive-thrus, and gas stops, you will reach Los Angeles. This time may fluctuate based on road conditions, where you want to go in Los Angeles, and other unpredictable circumstances."
"Okay…" Were you supposed to say thank you to Artificial Intelligence? It couldn't hurt. "Thanks, um… Friday."
"My pleasure."
Tony Stark put his phone back in his pocket and resumed staring out the window.
Natalie wasn't sure if she believed that it was actually Tony Stark in front of her. She was waiting for cameramen to pop out, and tell her this had all been a ploy for some new reality TV show. But nobody did.
What had she just gotten herself into?
Doubts pierced her mind like machine gun fire on a battleground. It wouldn't take her mother long to realize she was gone, nor would it take her long to overreact and call the police.
The question came back to her mind again and again.
What was she doing?
In a split second she'd gone off the walls crazy. It had all happened so fast, in mere minutes. But it was done now, and if Natalie was going to be stupid and go on a road trip with a fictional superhero, she was going to make it the best dang road trip of her life.
Two hours in and the silence was starting to get awkward. Natalie had nothing but her grumbling stomach and uncertain thoughts to keep her company. Eventually, Tony Stark had closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat. Every so often dark eyes would flicker open and casually scan his surroundings before drifting shut again.
He wasn't what Natalie would've expected. From what she could remember, Tony Stark had been loud, talkative, and opinionated.
Maybe the movies weren't accurate?
Because this man wasn't very loud. His presence demanded respect, but definitely not attention. The man sitting in the passenger seat next to her was more shadow than human. He leaned wearily against his seat, and sagged under an invisible weight. Stress lines embedded his forehead like cracks in a fragile porcelain dish. This man wasn't very alive. He was falling apart at the seams, fading away, to the point where he wasn't a presence.
It was depressing.
Her stomach let out a loud growl. Tony (or Stark? What was she supposed to call him?) opened his eyes and glanced in her direction. Then he went back to looking out the window.
She'd skipped breakfast and she hadn't had lunch.
"I'm getting a burger," Natalie announced. "You want anything?"
"Make it fast." He closed his eyes again.
That wasn't an answer.
Natalie was too intimidated by him to tell him that.
She pulled off the highway twenty minutes later at a McDonald's sign. The McDonald's was a dilapidated building with crumbling brick, a weeded parking lot, and the unfortunate scent of cow poop in the chilly air. It was isolated, one of four commercial buildings in a nameless town. The only other car was an old faded pickup.
There was no drive thru.
Natalie cursed under her breath, and parked. Her car made an odd stuttering noise before turning off. She eyed it suspiciously.
"I'll be right back."
Stark didn't answer.
He wouldn't take off with her car, would he? She had the keys in her hand, but she doubted that would keep the genius from stealing it.
What would her mother say? It wasn't like anyone would believe that Tony Stark had stolen her car. She would be two hours away from home, without a phone or a car, and everything would be out of her control.
The slice of fear that dug into Natalie's chest made her freeze.
She didn't really need a burger then. She could wait until they passed a McDonald's with a drive thru. What was she even thinking? Maybe she should just dump him here, and go back home. There were so many variables, so many unknowns.
Irrational, invincible Natalie intervened.
Natalie got out of the car and slammed the door behind her.
Choosing a burger for Tony Stark was the hardest decision in her life. She examined the menu with a scrutiny like never before. Would he want cheese, or no? Pickles? Fries?
Yeah, definitely fries. The fries were a definite. Everyone liked McDonald's fries.
Natalie had no idea what to get him.
"What would you buy Tony Stark for lunch?" She asked the kid behind the counter.
The college kid absentmindedly scratched at his knotted, long blond hair.
"A Crispy Chicken Club Sandwich."
She eyed it skeptically, then realized it was the most expensive thing on the menu.
Her order ended up being two double cheeseburgers and two large fries. The fries drooped sadly over the edge of their containers. The tiny, crispy cheeseburgers glared up at her with angry little scowls. The wrappers themselves seemed unhappy, crinkling in whiny protest when she wrapped them around their burgers. Natalie eyed the meals with disdain. He better have not forgotten to salt the fries.
Tony Stark had not left with her car. She handed him the fries and burger as a reward. He had no objection, but began eating them. It was strange how he ate. Mechanically, almost dutifully. His face made no expression at the taste. Natalie found that kind of disturbing, because this had to be the worst McDonald's she'd had in her life.
"Are you actually Tony Stark?" she asked, before her brain could catch up to her mouth.
He chewed one more time, then swallowed.
"Yes. Are you actually Captain America?"
"Nope."
"Good."
"Why is that good?" Natalie really needed to stop talking."Wouldn't you rather have one of your teammates here than a random civilian? And why are you even here anyways? Are you aware that you're a fictional character with an actor and a whole ton of movies?"
"Don't ask so many questions!"
Natalie blinked in surprise. His tone sounded sharp.
Her voice was tiny. "Just want to know what I'm getting into."
Tony Stark sighed a tired sigh. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.
"Parallel universes exist. I'm from one. Yes, I know that I'm a fictional character here. Friday's kept me informed. Now get back on the road."
Answers. Vague ones and not many, but it was better than nothing.
She started the car and exited the empty parking lot.
The worst part about it was how much time she had to think. Natalie was soup and time was heat, and that left her with no choice but to stew.
Thoughts broiled, simmered and bubbled as miles of highway and empty farmland went by. Anxiety and fear churned as the sun slowly lowered itself down from its perch in the sky.
The thoughts constantly alternated between two topics: Tony Stark and her parents.
What was Tony Stark doing here? How did he get here? Why Los Angeles? Why was he in such a hurry? Was the guy next to her really Tony Stark, or some creepy person that ran an underground slave ring and captured girls by pretending to be a billionaire?
Her mother would've definitely gotten to the point of calling the cops and her father home from work. The town sheriff was a bored guy in his thirties who had too many talents and saw too little action. The three of them would most likely find her phone, and leap to the worst conclusion. Natalie wondered if the twenty-four hour rule for reporting missing persons applied in Jackson, Kansas. Her town didn't follow a lot of rules.
The worst part about thoughts stewing is that eventually they'll all just stew away. Five hours in, and Natalie had nothing left to think about. Her head was empty and she was bored.
She couldn't believe she was actually thinking that, because Tony Stark and all, but she was bored.
The car beeped. Natalie eyed the dashboard, and realized the gas gage had grown alarmingly low.
Most of Kansas was nothing but farms and empty lands, but along I-70 it was different. Fast food stops and gas stations dotted the edges, in hopes that their signs might lure some of the traffic off the road.
"24 Hour Gas Ahead!" read a sign. Natalie turned to the off ramp and slowed.
The town was called Setson. This particular one was busy. Cars and trucks followed her onto the off ramp. There were actual frugal signs of life, as a few couples walked down dusty, cracked sidewalks.
She put on her turn signal and prepared to go to "24 Hour Gas!"
"Don't get gas."
Natalie had actually forgotten he'd existed.
She glanced at Tony, wide-eyed.
"It's almost-"
"Keep on driving." His voice was short and tense. He had his eyes trained on something outside the window.
Reluctantly, Natalie flicked off her turn signal and drove past.
"What's going on?" She asked.
"Drive faster."
Natalie pressed her foot on the gas, and her car sped a good ten miles above the speed limit. Ahead, a light turned yellow. She looked at Tony.
"Get past it, now." His voice was urgent.
Swallowing, Natalie hit the gas. The car jerked forward and sped over the line just as the light turned red. Tony turned around in his seat and looked at something behind them. He cursed.
"What? What's happening?"
"Just keep driving." There was no room for argument. "You see that truck ahead?"
"The blue Wal-Mart one?"
"That's the one. Catch up to it."
Natalie only had to go five more miles over the speed limit to get next to it.
"Okay." Tony adjusted himself in his seat, tightening the buckle. A flash of some emotion crossed his face, before it was replaced with calm. "Turn in front of the truck."
"What? Are you trying to get us killed?!"
"Do it now!"
Natalie clenched her teeth together. She swerved into the left lane, in front of the truck. There was the blare of a horn. Her elbow slammed into the window. Pain. Groceries in the back seat tumbled off the chair. Something cracked. She got a glimpse of the truck driver's terrified face, before there was a loud scrape and a jolt and she was thrown forward in her seat and caught roughly by her seatbelt.
The car puttered forward in the left lane.
Behind her, the truck had swerved to the right to miss her and had come to a stop. It blocked both lanes completely. Natalie could see the driver's fist shaking in their direction.
Tony Stark's mouth was pressed into a thin line. His eyes were still on the rearview mirror, but he'd leaned back in his seat and his shoulders didn't seem as tense. He exhaled.
"I'll pay you extra for that."
Natalie squeezed the wheel with a Darth Vader death grip and stared straight ahead.
"What," she tried to keep her voice even. "The hell was that?"
"Friends." Tony's voice was flat.
"Who? Somebody behind us, or the guy in the truck I almost killed?"
He rolled his eyes. "Behind us."
She snorted.
"What a friend you are."
His nose wrinkled in distaste. "I'm avoiding them for awhile."
The car beeped hungrily for gas.
Ahead, a shiny red Conoco sign advertised gas twenty cents more a gallon than the last one.
Natalie used a hand to rub at her temples. "Can I go here, or are you friends with the clerk behind the counter, too?"
"Go ahead."
"Thanks." She crammed the word as full of sarcasm as she could manage.
Getting out of the car proved more difficult than Natalie would've thought. Her legs seemed to want to collapse beneath her. Her hands clung to the roof of the car as she slowly made her way over to the pump.
This was a bad idea.
Did she need anymore proof? Was there any other reason not to just drop the fricking madman off here and make her way back home?
He had given her absolutely no reason not to. Money wasn't an incentive. What would she spend it on? If she stayed with him, she might end up dead. Dead people couldn't spend money.
Natalie could've died two minutes ago.
Suddenly death, which had seemed so far away, was a real, tangible thing. The taste of bile was sour in her mouth. She bent over, clutching her stomach. Her knees wobbled underneath her. Black spots danced before her eyes.
"Breathe," she muttered under her breath. "Yeah, I can do that."
Her heart was a bird in a cage of bone, and it fluttered about madly, searching for an exit. It would not calm down.
'I almost died.' Natalie tried the words out on her lips, and they felt surreal. She was a good kid, always did what she was supposed to, to the best of her ability. She never got in trouble. Because of that, she never was in any danger. The worst pain she'd ever felt was a twisted ankle.
What had happened in the last five hours?
'Get the gas,' irrational, irresponsible Natalie told her, ' and get back in the car.'
Natalie's brain wasn't functioning. She followed irrational, irresponsible Natalie's advice.
"So," Tony started. "What's your name?"
Natalie glanced at the clock. Wow. Only twenty minutes since he'd last talked.
"Natalie." Had he really gone five hours in a car with her before asking her name? "What am I supposed to call you?"
"Tony. Call me Mr. Stark and you won't get payed."
Natalie offered a cheeky grin.
"I might take you up on that."
"Childish." For the first time, he actually turned his entire head and looked at her. "How old are you, anyways?"
"Twenty-two."
It surprised Natalie how effortlessly the lie passed through her lips. She knew it was believable, too. Everyone she'd met in the past two years had assumed her to be at least in college. They'd been disbelieving when she told them she was only sixteen. Maybe it was something about her pale face, or her height, or even the way she dressed, but nobody ever assumed her legally a minor.
But why had she lied? There really was no reason for it.
"A child, then." Tony put his hands behind his heads and stretched his legs out as far as they would go. He pulled his signature sunglasses out from his pocket and slid them on his nose.
"To you, grandpa."
A tiny little, actually genuine smile slid on his lips.
"Old man, maybe a little, but never, ever a grandpa."
Natalie wondered if he had ever created a robot that reproduced, then realized that was an extremely weird question to ask. Instead, she offered another.
"I'm kind of curious. Are the movies about y'all accurate?"
The smile abruptly fell off Tony's face.
"I haven't watched them." There he went being all brusque again.
Natalie's mouth formed a little 'o'.
"You came to a parallel universe where you're a fictional character idolized by millions, and you haven't watched any of the movies? Why?"
"I've been a bit busy."
And the dry, leave-me-alone sarcasm was back.
Natalie almost shut her mouth and left the guy alone. But she really was tired of the awkward silence.
"You know," she mused. "I haven't actually watched any of the Marvel movies since I saw Avengers: Age of Ultron in theatres a few years back." And she'd been reluctant to go. At some point, Marvel had become something that represented something negative. Natalie wasn't sure why. "I can't even remember any of the new titles. Did you at least have your AI look them up for you?"
"Remember what I said about pretending to be a fangirl shocked into awed silence by my presence?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"Being silent is part of the paycheck."
Natalie frowned. She was about to tell him exactly where he could put his money, when her car hit a bump. They bounced slightly in their seats.
There was a loud clank. A nasty shreeeec noise followed. Then suddenly, several loud bangs sounded from beneath the car.
Natalie and Tony cursed simultaneously.
Her poor car sputtered, wheezed, and started to slow down. Lights illuminating the dashboard began to flicker. Natalie quickly navigated to the shoulder of the highway.
By the time she'd come to a stop, the car had completely died.
Why her?
She pounded the door with her fist. Climbed out.
Natalie had actually fixed up bits of her 2004 Chevy Malibu Classic herself, making the long trip to Kansas City, Minnesota so she could visit a junkyard there, and collect the parts she needed. Cars had always been a fascination of hers. Both the intricacy and the efficiency attracted her.
But she didn't know a lot. Car mechanics was not a practical skill in Jackson, because almost everybody walked. What she'd learned she'd learned from dusty manuals at the tiny town library, assisting a farmer in repairing his tractor, and messing with an ancient, retired Volkswagen in her parents backyard.
Hopefully it would be enough to fix what had gone wrong.
Cars whizzed by on the highway as Natalie examined her car. There'd been a scrape back when they'd jumped in front of the truck. Now, a bit of paint had been rubbed off the right back corner, right next to the tailpipe…
There was no tailpipe.
"Seriously?" she muttered.
There was a sinking feeling in her chest.
The bangs had all sounded from underneath the car. Car underbellies were meant to be durable, but they had their delicate bits.
Natalie slid underneath.
In the fading light, it was almost impossible to make out the different pieces and bits. One thing was obvious.
The tailpipe had somehow managed to jam itself into the underbelly of the car. It jutted out like an extra limb. Natalie reached up and experimentally jostled it. It didn't budge.
She slid back out and knocked on the passenger door.
"Can you get the flashlight out of the glove compartment?"
The billionaire silently complied.
It occurred to Natalie that Tony could probably fix the issue in mere minutes. He was a technological genius. He owned cars, lots of them. He could've fixed what was wrong with it in his sleep.
But she wanted to do it herself.
Armed with the flashlight, Natalie went to go battle her Chevy.
Ten minutes later, she'd unjammed and reattached the tailpipe. She'd examined the dented areas with intense scrutiny. She'd stuck her flashlight into a fist-sized hole that had definitely not been there last time she'd crawled under her car.
But Natalie was no closer to figuring out what was wrong.
It was discouraging and disillusioning. She'd been stupid to imagine herself capable of actually solving the problem. She wasn't good at this kind of stuff. She'd never received training.
A sudden anger bubbled up.
"It's unfair!" Natalie slammed her bare fist into the surface. It barely thudded, but the pain was instant. She cradled the fist to her chest, examining the rapidly growing red marks covering her knuckles with a morbid disinterest.
What was she thinking? Stupid Natalie, naively running off from home because an imaginary superhero needed a ride. Now she was hours away, farther than she'd ever traveled in her life, alone. Very much alone.
She could see the tires of the cars on the highway, blurs of black that rushed by. It was almost Christmastime. How many of those cars were on their way to visit family, or stay with friends? How many weren't?
Homesickness was an odd feeling, especially when you'd never felt it before. It kind of felt like a hole drilled in her heart, an emptiness. Natalie remembered how mere hours before how angry she'd felt over the little things?
Now? The little things were nothing.
Above her, the passenger door shut.
Natalie turned her head in time to watch a set of expensive Nike's pass by, around, to the back of the car.
She prepared for some sarcastic comment. She prepared to admit defeat. She did not prepare for Tony Stark to get on his hands and knees and slide underneath the car next to her. Natalie scooted over to the left as far as she dared, and watched in shock as he army-crawled under, until his head was directly under the gash in the metal. He flipped over and awkwardly propped himself up on his elbows. For a moment, Tony studied it with squinted, straining eyes.
By that time, the only light came from vehicles passing by on the highway. In a split second, one would roar by, drowning out all other sounds in the thundering purr of its engine. The ground would vibrate for a moment and fragments of gravel on the ground shook where they sat. Hot air would tug at strands of Natalie's hair and beat at her face. Light would illuminate the two of them in strange, ghostly shadows, before plunging them back into blackness and silence. Then the cycle repeated itself a moment later, with another car.
"Can I see the flashlight?"
He accepted it from her outstretched hand. Natalie didn't like giving it to him because it was admitting her own incompetence and her own inability to fix the problem. It was recognizing that she wasn't always in control of everything.
But watching him work with the flashlight was fascinating.
The only word Natalie could find that described the look in his eyes was 'calculating'. It wasn't a perfect word, but that was the closest it got. His eyes swept over the damage once, and immediately his neurons were firing at such a rapid pace Natalie could almost taste the electricity. He stuck calloused hands up into the car, and ran fingers over the wiring with all the expertise of a master.
Between the odd lighting and the reverberating, thundering noise of the vehicles passing them, the setting became otherworldly. The bottom of Natalie's Chevy four inches from her nose was the sky, the cold cement and uncomfortable pebbles pressing into her back were the land. For a moment, hot wind and exhaust fumes was the only air that there was in existence, and there was no other world without the loud sound of passing engines. Tony and Natalie were the only two people alive, cocooned in a bubble of metal and cement and exhaust-flavored air.
It took Tony less than a minute to diagnose the problem.
"Something knocked electrical wires loose. The tailpipe."
Natalie nodded.
He turned his head around and stared at her, his eyebrows wrinkled slightly, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Shadows wrapped around the majority of his face. The yellow glow of the flashlight illuminated one eye. It was surrounded by an almost invisible, little white line. A scar, Natalie realized.
How many scars did Tony Stark have?
"Change places," Tony said. "You're going to fix the wires and I'm going to tell you how to do it."
"But-" Natalie began to protest.
"Nope. Not my car. You're going to fix it."
Natalie shut her mouth. Why was she arguing? Tony fricking Stark was offering to show her how to fix her car.
Tony gave her back the flashlight.
"You see the red wire with the digits '75532'?"
"Yeah."
"That one connects to the battery in…"
And five minutes later, it was done. All the tailpipe had done was jerk some wires loose. It was a simple matter of knowing what went where.
They'd crawled back out, into the fresh air. Natalie had turned the key in the ignition. Everything was back to normal.
Natalie was afraid the silence would return when they got back on the road. She needed an excuse to keep conversation going, something to keep her head busy.
But she was hesitant to start.
"Could you…" Natalie broke off, unsure of whether or not to continue. "Could you explain more about how the battery works?"
"Such a curious kid," Stark griped. He'd reverted back to his sarcastic self. "No. I'm getting some beauty sleep."
Natalie deflated, then inwardly chided herself. What had she been expecting? For the brilliant, famous Tony Stark to say yes?
"Okay."
Stark stretched back in his chair, and shut his eyes. If he was actually sleeping, or just avoiding conversation, she wasn't sure. Natalie drove on through the dark, further and further away from home, in silence.
This time it was Natalie who was avoiding friends.
She'd thought nothing of the state patrol car driving past her. She was going the speed limit, was buckled in, and Tony's face was encased in enough shadow that she strongly doubted anyone would recognize it. She was pretty sure he was actually asleep, too. His eyes remained shut tight and his chest rose and fell at a steady rate.
But the officer driving along beside Natalie had thought something of her. He'd casually glanced in her direction, then had double-taked.
The officer recognized her.
A shot of fear jammed into her gut. Her mother must've reported her missing. If the officer pulled her over, it would mean explaining why Tony Stark was in the seat next to her, and explaining to Tony why she'd lied about her age.
Which she still didn't have an answer to.
The cop was watching her now. Natalie kept her eyes on the road, but watched him out of the corner of her eye. He turned his head, and picked up his radio.
Shoot.
Her heart thudded so loudly she was surprised it didn't wake up Tony. How was she getting out of this?
A green road sign flashed by.
The Colorado Springs exit was a ¼ a mile away. If she could just slip off the highway and right back on, maybe she could lose him.
The cop kept glancing back at her car. His lips moved, close to the radio. He reached down for something in the driver door. Natalie stabbed the turn signal on with sweaty, shaking hands, crossed into the lane like a drunk, and sped down the off ramp.
The officer realized it too late. Natalie watched him look back at where she'd been just as he passed the exit. She slammed on the brakes at the light, and waited to get back on the highway.
She shakily exhaled. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.
Amazingly, Tony had not moved from the spot. His chest rose and fell at the same steady rate. But as Natalie watched, his eyes squeezed together tight, and his mouth downturned in a grimace. His hand clenched into a fist, so hard his knuckles turned white. The other came to rest over his chest, fingers desperately scrabbling at something that wasn't there. He breathed in sharply through his nose, and his eyes sprang open. Natalie quickly looked away.
The light turned green. If Tony wondered why they'd gotten off the highway, he didn't ask. Instead, he stared out the window. Natalie could see the shadows under his eyes. His nap hadn't made them go away. If anything, they were much more prominent.
They went on like that for a bit. Natalie watched carefully for signs of any other cops. No more appeared.
Her parents were probably very worried by now. They'd wonder if they'd ever see her again. Natalie wondered too. She wondered if she could just let Tony have her car, and use a phone to call her parents. Get someone to pick her up and bring her home.
Tony pulled her out of her thoughts.
"What would you do if you were in a car chase?"
Natalie's heart sped up. Had he actually been awake during her little incident with the cop?
"I don't know," She answered cautiously. "Why? Are your friends following us again?"
"Not now, but they will be later." He was serious.
Ominous.
"Well I don't know."
"Think about it."
He drifted back into silence.
Natalie twisted her lip. What would she do? If someone started following her, on the highway, at that very moment, how would she escape?
Dart in front of a truck? "Sneak" onto the off ramp? Neither of those seemed like great options. Car chases had been something she'd only watched in movies. She'd never actually imagined herself being in one.
This happened while watching miles of farmland go by. Please follow the actual story, even if you're following me because it makes other people interested in the story if there's a lot of follows.