A/N: Is there such a thing as a second epilogue? I vote yes! Maybe.
Thank you to everyone who took the time to leave a review for Painful Irony! In one of them, DjWis asked what happened to Andy…. Sorry it's taken so long - understatement … but here it is. Takes place almost immediately after the events in Painful Irony. Fair warning, this is about closure and paying another visit to one of my fave pairings again…beyond that, is there a point? Not so much. :)
TS/PP. Semi-established relationship. Oh, and since this all started before IM II, there's no hope of avoiding it…AU.
Disclaimer: Ironman and its characters do not belong to me. Thusly, this story was written solely for entertainment – no profit is being made.
A debt repaid
One
"You honestly expect me to believe that?"
"Well. You wanted the truth. That's it."
"Yeah, but I wanted a truth that let me feel good about myself." Tony shook his head. "See, now I don't feel good about myself, and that's not fair." He indicated the bandages wrapped around his shoulder, just peeking up from the edge of his collar.
Andy smiled ruefully. "Sorry."
"Well. Shit."
"Yeah." Looking down from the billionaire, Andy said, "But hey, don't worry 'bout it. It wasn't you that got me into this mess. It was all me, man."
"But you helped us out, in the end there." He didn't say, and it feels like I owe you something for that, because that would be crazy. But Tony wasn't in the habit of lying to himself (about important things, anyway). He knew Andy's heart hadn't been in that whole sorry mess almost from the beginning. He knew the man had tried to protect Pepper. That made all the difference.
Andy looked down at his hands. It didn't matter why he'd done it. It didn't matter what he did after to try to make up for it, the truth of it was he took a bad job, kidnapped and hurt people. It didn't matter that it was a rich guy and his lady that he'd hurt, or if that meant they either deserved it more or less 'cause they were rich. It was a couple of weeks after he'd been arrested and he still had bad dreams about the look on Ms. Potts face when Stark got hurt. When Max was threatening her.
That was almost punishment enough.
No, he deserved to be in this seat, in the grey jumpsuit. It sucked, but he deserved it. Andy looked back up to see Stark watching him, a frown creasing his forehead. The guy looked a lot different than he did on those entertainment shows. Now that the power…..couple(?) was back, the TV was exploding about them, showing a lot of old candid videos of Stark (in between the serious stuff about how they'd escaped). In that old junk, he was mostly drunk and/or partying.
Stark wasn't drunk now. He was sitting in front of Andy, asking questions Andy really didn't want to answer. More than anything, the former kidnapper had dreaded this visitor. Had half-hoped that maybe he wouldn't ever see him again. Back in civilized society, surrounded by his security, his money and a repaired Ironman suit, Tony Stark had both the figurative and literal power to crush him.
But he figured maybe he owed the man an explanation after everything he'd done. So when Stark had requested a visit Andy hadn't refused and now here they were, sitting across from each other… and again Andy had that sense that he'd had in the warehouse. That the man was looking through him and seeing more than he was completely comfortable with. He shifted in his seat and said again, "don't worry about it, Mr. Stark. I'll take whatever happens." He looked down at his hands. "You know, I used to be a handyman. I took care of a whole building." Shaking his head, he chuckled sadly. "I should have listened to my mom and stuck with it. I'd 've been a manager by now."
Stark seemed to think for a moment, his mouth twisting. Then he stood up, the metal chair scraping on the concrete floor. "Right. Well, thanks for the chat, Andy." He reached over the table to shake his hand. "It was…informative."
"Uh," Andy reached back, surprised at the offered hand and not sure why the man had even bothered to come for the visit. He was screwed and they both knew it. "Yeah. Thanks, I guess. For you know, coming to see me."
Tony nodded absently to the guard on his way out, lost in thought. Vaguely, he knew on some level that the uniformed man had been about to ask him something (a picture, an autograph - a loan). He didn't pause or acknowledge that nudge for his attention, though. It hadn't been easy, but he had learned early how to deflect the kind of casual contact most people take for granted. Everything was less complicated that way. Stay focused on where you were going. Don't make eye contact. It seemed cold, but otherwise, he'd never make it from one place to another.
A bodyguard was a natural deterrent to casual contact. That was one of the reasons he normally had Happy Hogan, long-time friend and bodyguard extraordinaire, with him on this type of outing. Normally….operative word there. But Happy hadn't been pleased to find out he was going to visit his former kidnapper.
"Are you outta your mind?"
"No. Well, I don't think so."
"Well I do. That guy deserves to be in there, Tony. He's a kidnapper. They actually took and held the two of you across state lines. That makes it a federal offense. They made that a federal offense because that's kinda a really bad thing to do."
After watching his scowling friend stalk away, Tony decided it would probably be okay to visit a penitentiary unarmored and sans escort. There were plenty of burly guards to spring into action at the first sign of trouble. He turned a thoughtful eye on the door Happy had exited through, remembering the dripping sarcasm in his friend's voice. He knew the bluster had to do with the fact that Happy hadn't been there to protect him and Pepper in this most recent fiasco (as if that were somehow his fault). It was Afghanistan all over again. Tony's mind shied from those thoughts, beyond a quick acknowledgement that his kidnapping had farther reaching effects and had affected more people on a profound level than he really wanted to think about. He knew damn well Happy couldn't be there for him all the time. And he had thought Happy knew it, too. Apparently, however, the man wasn't ready to believe that, no matter how true it may be.
Since pretty much all of that mess was better left alone, Tony kept his thoughts on other things on the way home.
Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid the subject when furious blue eyes looked ready to shoot lasers at him later that evening. It was after a blissfully peaceful meal which had been headed toward a fun and…. erm, active night, and then he had to go and ruin it all by telling her what he was planning. "Are you serious, Tony?"
"Um. Yes?"
Pepper's sigh was deep and long-suffering. "Why."
"Well, because-" and he cringed inside, preparing for the oncoming explosion, "because I feel bad for him."
"What?!" Pepper's eyebrows hiked up comically, disappearing beneath the fringe of bangs as she jumped up. "Are you joking, Tony? Tell me you're joking. He's a kidnapper, Tony. Our kidnapper." She shook her head, crossing her arms. "He's evil."
Feeling distinctly like they had abruptly exchanged roles and he was acting out her part instead of his, Tony rolled his eyes. "No, Pepper, he's not evil."
"Yes, he is. He kidnapped us. He knocked me out and tied us both up, he….he-" and here her voice faltered and Tony stood up, moving over to her and wrapping his arms around her. "He…" She buried her face in the warm hollow of his neck and Tony just held her, gently rubbing a circle in the small of her back, feeling the warmth of tears on his shirt.
He was quiet for a minute before he said, "Pepper, if you really don't want me to do this, I won't."
There was a brief silence before she looked up at him, blinking and wiping at her eyes in irritation. Her lips twisted and she shook her head. "No," she sighed. "I'm just being a child."
"No, you're not. You're right. He did do those things. They were evil things." Tony shrugged. "And I'm pissed at him about that and what he did to you. Maybe I wouldn't cry myself to sleep if I left it alone and he just went to jail for a really, really long time. It's just," and it was Tony's turn to sigh now. "I probably wouldn't sleep very well."
Plaintively, with just a hint of tears, Pepper said, "are you sure? You might sleep well. I could make you a glass of warm milk to help." Tony laughed. It was sappy, but she was adorable and sweet and he wanted to hold her like this forever.
Dipping his head down to hold her closer, he could smell the sweet smell of her shampoo, and her favorite perfume. It reminded him of where their evening had been headed a few minutes ago. Letting his breath gust across her cheek as he leaned in close, he smiled and murmured, "There are much better ways to help me sleep." Unable to resist, he tugged her in closer and let his hands wander. "We could… tire ourselves out." Pepper was the one who laughed this time, soft and a little breathless.
As they headed toward the bedroom, he had barely enough presence of mind to throw back over his shoulder, "Jarvis – lock up and turn everything off, would you?"
"Of course, sir."
. . .
What was I thinking? I'm an idiot. Tony pulled up to the curb in front of the squalid looking apartment building. Turning off the Audi, he listened to the click, click, click as the engine cooled and looked around the neighborhood. It was like a "run-down-tenement-housing" cookie cutter had stomped its way across several city blocks. The closely packed buildings all had the same flavor. Despair and destitution. Why haven't these been condemned?
There weren't many people outside but the few that were (clustered on street corners), all dressed in jeans, tats and distinctive colors. Looking down at his designer jeans and two-hundred dollar custom-made shirt, it occurred to Tony that maybe this wasn't a good idea.
"Sir, if I may say, this is not a good idea."
"Thanks, Jarvis."
"You're very welcome sir."
"Don't be a smartass, Jarvis."
"I wouldn't dream of it, sir."
Sighing, Tony decided to hell with it, it couldn't be worse than Afghanistan, right? He really needed to work on a more portable Ironman suit. He couldn't conduct business clanking around in full body armor, but it sure would be nice to switch out on a moment's notice. Pulling the key from the lock, he said, "If I'm not back in twenty minutes, let the authorities know." He paused.
"Certainly, sir."
"And don't you dare call Pepper."
"I shan't sir, but I should inform you that she has already asked me to link the GPS tracking for the Audi to her cell phone." Knowing it was more of a fear-for-his-safety thing than an oh-god-she's-trying-to-smother-me thing, Tony huffed a resigned breath. Well, hopefully he could get this done and get out before she sent in the SWAT team. He was surprised actually, that it had been Pepper and not Happy who'd decided to tag him with GPS.
"Mr. Hogan had a tracking program installed on your phone shortly after you and Ms. Potts returned, sir."
Disturbed, he said, "I don't think I programmed you to read minds, Jarvis."
"You were muttering, sir."
Oh. Right.
With a decisive movement, he stepped out of the car and shut the door, automatically hitting the alarm as he headed for the entrance. He ignored the stares he got as he walked the short distance, keeping his eyes straight ahead and moving with purpose. Though the looks he got were curious and hungry, no one moved to intercept him and soon he was inside, staring in frustration at the "out of order" sign on the elevator (slightly obscured by the graffiti generously covering almost the entire surface of the taped up doors).
At least it was only a five-story building. He looked at the note he'd scribbled while he had been talking to Andy. 'Apt. #517'
I should have worn tennies.
Five stories and too many stairs later, Tony stood in front of apartment five-seventeen. The door was just like every other door he'd passed, but somehow it was more intimidating. Whatever he found behind it would dictate how he was going to deal with the Andy situation. Tony's brain said that the guy wasn't all bad. But Pepper's tears and his own conflicted feelings, kind of wanted Andy to be a bad guy. Why couldn't it be easy? Why couldn't he be really evil….completely and unreservedly and without any doubt? Then Tony could wash his hands, move on and happily watch the man carted away after the hearing.
He lied. He lied, he lied. Andy was a kidnapper, federal offense, throw away the key.
He rapped his knuckles against the door, listened for movement and prepared to run if he had to. Footsteps. Getting closer. The sound of a latch, the clink of a chain, and then the door was opening.
"Yeah?"
Tony's heart sank.
He looked at the tow-headed child in front of him, wary blue eyes almost-glaring, clearly labeling Tony: "the enemy," until they widened and with a touch of wonder, he said, "hey….aren't you Ironman?"
Tony looked down. Huh. He was wearing a dark shirt today. He'd swear the glow wasn't visible. Was he really that recognizable? Avoiding an answer, he said, "Is your mom home?"
The wary look was back again. Eyes flickered nervously before some of the bravado returned. "What's it to ya?" Tony smiled. He knew that coping mechanism. He'd used it himself until he moved on to alcohol, sarcasm and blowing things up.
Until he grew up, of course and… Well. At least he didn't drink any more. Much.
"I have a message for your mom from a friend. Just wanted to relay it."
"Re-what?"
"Relay," at the boy's confused look, he sighed, saying instead, "I need to give her a message."
The boy's mouth turned down and his feet shifted. The door creaked on its hinges, nervous kid fingers pulling at it unconsciously. "She's not home."
"Ah." Briefly, Tony considered taking the kid out for ice cream. Or to CPS. Kids shouldn't have dark circles under their eyes. Or clothes that looked two sizes too small and appeared not to have been washed for months. Had his hair ever been combed? But something about the defiant and fearfully guarded look prevented him from commenting. Or doing something that would likely get him arrested as a child abductor. "Okay, then. Guess I'll have to try some other time." Turning, he headed for the stairwell.
One….two….
"Wait, mister!"
He turned back. Tried to look surprised. "Mmm?"
"My mom…should be home soon. You know, if ya wanna wait."
Tony thought about that. It was tempting. He could really check out Andy's story, then. If it were true, though, this child's mother may not be entirely pleased to find Ironman in her home, even sans suit. He could see the kid was lonely, though. Probably desperately hoping for a hand up, too. Looking at the state of his clothing, he definitely could use one. Tony looked around the hall, noting absently that he had an audience. A couple of the doors were cracked and closed quickly when his eyes passed over them.
This whole place could use a hand up.
Kicking himself on the inside and trying not to show it, he tipped his head in the direction of the boy's apartment, following the child until they reached the door. He was a sucker and an idiot. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. Turning it over, he scribbled a number on the back and handed it to the boy. "Give this to your mom when she gets home. Okay?"
The boy looked at the card, frowning. Dubiously, he looked up, eyebrows scrinched in the middle. His voice showed his disappointment, but he was apparently resigned to disappointment. "Yeah. Okay."
Giving him a final nod, the billionaire took the stairs to the rundown lobby and made it unassaulted to his miraculously undamaged Audi. He shrugged mentally. He'd been a fool to think he wouldn't be recognized (as Ironman apparently),but for once he was grateful – the shadow of the suit was obviously an effective security system.
Then again, Max and his mad plan had led him here, now. So yeah. That shadow was effective most of the time.
. . .
Two days later, he wasn't surprised when he still hadn't received a call. He wanted to just write the whole thing off, but Andy's pre-trial hearing was coming up in less than two weeks and he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do. Truthfully, at this point he'd rather not deal with it at all. It would be so much easier if he could just procrastinate to the point where the decision would be made for him. But that wasn't his style. So, he set Jarvis on some additional research into the matter, in the event that call never came.
"Sir, I am unable to locate any information under the name provided by Mr. Ryan. All legal records of the young woman end approximately seven years ago. There is no record of the child."
Tony didn't reply, focused on lining up the component he was installing so the wires didn't crimp. He didn't manage it. His heart skipped a beat when he felt it slip, the plastic casing around the red and blue wire compressed to the point where telltale discoloration showed in the insulation around the bent bits.
He cursed, pulling back. It was an awkward stretch, but he reached around to the front of the unit, gingerly straightening out the wires that had been pinched. He considered continuing and hoping they were not too badly damaged. Nope, not smart. Frustrated, he set the component back on the bench and pulled more wire. If he didn't redo it now, he would just end up having to take the whole bloody thing apart to fix it later.
"Crap."
Yeah, that pretty much summed it up.
Forty-eight hours of fruitless digging and trying to forget a kid in dirty clothes had done little to improve his mood. If something didn't break soon Andy and his situation would be beyond his control….there was precious little time to figure things out.
IF …. if …. he decided to help the man, Tony needed to write a check and get things moving pretty damn soon. That whole 'saving the redeemable scoundrel' at the twelfth hour didn't work in real life. In real life, if you missed a court deadline it could mean months of delays. Months or years in jail while paperwork wound its way through an insanely complicated system of bureaucratic red tape. And no matter how good the attorney and how nice or sympathetic said attorney was to your face, they truly didn't care how long it took; they still made three hundred dollars an hour. No. If Tony decided to step in, he'd better do it quick.
"Okay, Jarvis. See if there is any other way to check…how about public records for another way to find her?"
"Not certain, sir. I'll do what I can."
Things would be so much easier if he could think.
If his schedule had been insane before the kidnapping, it was absolutely chaotic now. Some of it was his own doing, due to a typical Tony-created whirlwind of activity as he tried to cope with the fallout of said kidnapping. Some of it was the media, some of it was the board of Stark Industries (the members of which were understandably having another freak out after all of this). And some of it was because of his own bleary-eyed and mind-numbed swirling view of the days – it made his days feel like a drunk on a carousel ride. Dizzy and nauseous. If he were talking percentages and time-commitment, how packed were his days? Mm. A hundred twenty-three percent? Yeah. That was about right.
But if he were honest with himself, it wouldn't really be a problem, except that well, he was exhausted.
Simply exhausted.
He couldn't sleep. Strangely, his sleep patterns hadn't improved since his second kidnapping. And it appeared from Pepper's less than peppy appearance and copious consumption of coffee during work hours that she wasn't sleeping well either.
He could admit that he might be hiding from facing uncomfortable thoughts by gorging in compulsive, frenzied activity. He just couldn't seem to stop himself.
Besides…it was all stuff that needed to get done anyway.
Within a few days of their return, the mansion was being outfitted with new tech – security upgrades he should have done a long time ago. They were relatively massive changes, though, and it meant Tony couldn't do them alone without taking months to do it. So, he had done some careful investigation and hired a reputable team of people to come in and get the grunt work done. The finer work he'd do himself with Jarvis.
Consequently, the incessant comings and goings of the techs kept Happy and his men on their guard. Tony knew Happy had it under control. But it bothered him that (though she'd never admit it) it made Pepper anxious and jumpy to have those strangers around during work – when she should feel safe. The day after the project began she brought her laptop into his lab and set up at the desk while he tinkered. She hadn't explained and he hadn't commented. But they both seemed to feel better for it.
That evening, a niggling worry tickled the back of his mind (even as he sighed in relief) when she didn't protest as two body guards fell into step with her, veering off to their own vehicle when she stepped into her Audi and shadowing her return to her apartment.
Now, it was somewhere near the wee-hours and Tony was still working on his latest project. Jarvis was running through more possibilities on where his former employee come kidnapper, Max, had gone to ground, when his phone finally rang. "Shall I get that sir? The number is blocked." The A.I.'s calm voice pulled his attention to the chiming ring. He'd already ignored the first two rings, caught up in what he was doing. Grabbing a rag, he wiped his hands quickly and snatched the phone up.
"No, I got it, Jarvis." He frowned slightly as he hit 'answer'. "Tony Stark."
There was a pause for long enough that he considered hanging up before a voice said, "Um…yeah. Mister….I. Uh…" It took one-point-five seconds for him to realize it was the kid from the apartment. Absently, he looked at the time. Two thirty-five a.m.
He did frown then. "Isn't it a little past your bedtime?"
Silence.
He resisted the urge to sigh. "Kid, it's late." He shouldn't have sat in the same position for so long. He reached up to rub at that irritating, persistent ache in his left shoulder and made a mental note to take more frequent breaks to move around while he was working – at least until the gunshot wound was fully healed. "I gave you the card to give your mom, remember?"
There was more silence, and then the unmistakable sound of a hitched breath. Without even realizing he was doing it, his brow furrowed, his jaw tightening. I knew it was a mistake to go there. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.
"My mom isn't home yet," and the next words tumbled out between sobs, "and she's not answering her phone. I think she's in trouble….please, Mister. Can you help?"
Damn it, Andy.
Reviews are love.
