A/N: I've recently come back to reading MCU fanfic thanks to Endgame and, after reading a number of post-CACW fics that were fairly anti-Team Cap, I came up with this idea. It's meant to be amusing, but also provide a realistic vision of how the teams might come back together, even though we know now that they don't until after Infinity War.
Not a Damsel
The first time she appeared, Tony didn't believe she was really there. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen flying creatures that weren't really there, though he's pretty sure there were some drugs involved. Drugs, at least the illegal kind, weren't involved here. When he thought back on it, it wasn't the anxiety or depression medications either. He's been taking those for a couple of months now with no ill effects except he smiles a bit more, like really smiled. Everyone likes it but he finds it rather unsettling. True happiness and calmness have long been foreign concepts.
But back to the flying woman in his workshop. The wings were truly magnificent, he thought as he observed her, wondering if he might be able to design a set for Clint or make a more realistic pair for Sam.
Again, the woman. Damn, he is not focusing well. Perhaps he needs sleep after all. He'll get some before the Gala tonight, when though was a mystery even to him. That woman, Fanny Mae, she said was her name was and continued to prattle on about something or other, telling him that he really needed to take better care of himself or maybe it was about watching too much of the Great British Baking show, which really would have been tantamount to sacrilege because, really, can you ever watch too much of the bake-off? He ignored her because he had better things to do and he really needed the bake-off to calm his nerves, but he did go get something quick to eat. He has a strict policy about giving in to the demands of hallucinations.
It's early in the morning, he thinks, when FRIDAY interrupts his thoughts to let him know that Wanda is requesting access to his lab. It's not just her that has to request access. Everyone but a few, like Rhodey, Pepper, Peter, and Vision, have to ask. Bruce wouldn't have to either, if he ever showed up. Back when he first came back, when he first came home from the hospital and was allowed back in the lab, no one had access. He couldn't trust anyone, not even Rhodey. A therapist helped a lot with that, a real one, not a friend he roped into unburdening on. Still, it wasn't entirely his idea. Pepper and Rhodey were furious when they discovered he brought a teenager into the fight at the airport. And, yes, in hindsight, he admits that is the stupidest, most reckless thing he's ever done, but he also doesn't want to leave the young man floundering. Being a superhero in your forties is hard, how is a teenager to manage it without some support. Therapy was a requirement of being able to see him again, mentor him and make sure he had something better than pajamas to fly around in. It was therapy and a serious apology to Peter with Pepper and Rhodey present, that allowed him back into Peter's life and he hopes he isn't screwing it up any more than he already has.
Those on his request access list, even when they ask, he doesn't always let them into the lab. Some days are just bad days and he tries not to beat up himself up over them. They all have their bad days. Today, however, he's feeling good. Work on his many projects has been good and he's crossed a lot off during the last couple days. Between SI and the Avengers, he has lengthy to-do lists.
"Let her in, FRIDAY," Tony says. He hears the door unlock and seconds later, Wanda is pushing it open.
"Morning, Stark," she says.
"Ah, so it is morning. I thought so. Morning, Wanda." The ease isn't forced anymore. Outside of Steve, reconciling with her has been the most difficult. Clint, Sam, and Scott were relatively harmless. Yes, they'd fought with Rogers, but they hadn't been so physically malicious towards him, not like Rogers and Wanda. Snide comments were another matter, however.
Before either had a chance to say anything more, there was a loud crackle of energy and out of nowhere came the flying woman. Tony tried to remember her name. He'd had it not long ago.
"Back away, Scarlet Witch," the flying woman says, a clearly put on commanding voice. It grated on Tony's ears. "You can no longer bring harm to him."
"Harm? I…" Wanda begins only to be cut off.
"Silence. Leave this space and let Tony work in peace without your harassment."
"I wasn't…" Wanda raises her hands, backing up.
"None of your tricks. You're not welcome here with your magic."
"Can it, pixie," Tony says, moving between Wanda and Fanny, because now that he hears her, he remembers her name. Fanny Mae. He really wants some chocolate, dark chocolate covered caramels.
"She is here to mess with your mind again," Fanny says, looking imploringly at Tony. "Her anger for you is great."
Tony looks to Wanda, who shrugs her shoulders.
"I can't get over it overnight, but I'm working on it," she says.
"I know." Once he found out the reason for her anger with him, her desire to cause harm to him, he understood. He didn't like it and explained that he'd never sent missiles to Sokovia, even showed her the records, but he didn't discount her story or her feelings. He knows his missiles ended up in places he didn't want them in. They don't spend a lot of time together, but they do talk and its more than civil now.
"See, her anger still burns," Fanny says.
"And she has a right to it," Tony says and still can't quite believe that he is. Therapy's helping, which is another thought he never thought he'd have.
"But you were just trying to save the world and keep her safe. She manipulated you! She fought against you!"
"That's true she did those things, but," Tony pauses briefly to look at Wanda, "I made some mistakes, too. I made decisions without thinking, without discussing them with the team." Owning up to his errors is getting easier, but it still hurts his ego to admit fault. Seeing Wanda ease a little in front of him makes it worth it. She's really just a kid, a young adult hurting from the sudden loss of her family and in need of friends. He can't be a friend for her now, but he's willing to work towards that.
"Yeah, and I really didn't think about what I was doing with my powers," Wanda says.
"Sure, but…" Fanny begins.
"Nope, there's no buts," Tony says, mildly irritated by the woman's persistence in something she didn't have the full picture of. "Now, go and stop spying. FRIDAY, make sure that she can't get back in."
With a sigh, Fanny waves her arms and disappears, electricity fizzling in the space where she was.
"Now, Wanda, what was it you came down here for," Tony asks, forcing aside his lingering irritation with Fanny.
"Breakfast." Wanda can't help the startled tone at the sudden shift in events. "You… um… never came up for breakfast and you missed dinner last night working down here. FRIDAY said you haven't left the lab since yesterday afternoon. I thought you might like some pancakes. Clint and Scott helped me make them. I made sure to save some for you."
This isn't the first time some one's come down to remind him to eat a meal and it's not the first time it's Wanda. Still, it catches him off guard. He blames that flying woman.
"It's okay if you're not hungry. You probably have snacks down here," Wanda says at his hesitation.
"I do have snacks. Dried blueberries and the like and they're good, but they're not pancakes. I'm really, busy though, so I'll probably just eat them down here." He can't help the slight hesitation in his voice, the rising inflection at the end as if he's asking permission. There are moments when the irrational part of his mind makes him afraid of saying no to Wanda. His therapist says that's okay, but that he needs to ask himself if it's justified or a part of his mind. He knows it's his mind in this case. It's just breakfast and it's pancakes, one of his favorite breakfast foods.
"Should I bring them down," Wanda asks.
"No, I'll come get them."
There's still awkwardness between them, but that's expected. They didn't know each other before all of this and what happened has put them on strange footing. They each find themselves breathing deeply through these awkward moments and trying to see them as a step forward. Some days are better than others.
Tony doesn't know how much time passes before he has his next visitor. He knows it's not long enough that they'll think he needs to eat again. Really, he is better than some people think. There's a reason he has snacks down here. As much as he'd like to eat a real meal, sometimes there's no good breaking point and he's already done the passing out thing enough times to be sick of it. Snacks are the perfect solution.
"What's up, Clint," he asks after telling FRIDAY to let him in.
"You got those new arrows done," Clint asks.
"Not yet. I've had a lot of SI stuff to get done this week."
"You've been working on them for weeks. How long does it take?"
"Silence," a too familiar voice calls out with the remnants of electricity fizzling in the air. Tony curses, wondering why she's back when he told FRIDAY to keep her out.
"What are you doing, Fanny," he asks.
"Who's this, Stark," Clint asks.
"I am Fanny Mae and you, Hawkeye, need to leave Tony alone." She has that put-on commanding voice again. Tony sighs loudly, shaking his head.
"Stark, what's this? Have you been spending all of your time building fairy godmother robots instead of working on my arrows?"
"He doesn't have to work solely on your arrows. The ones you have work perfectly fine."
Tony sighs again, before gently setting his hands onto the tabletop instead of slamming them like he wants to. He's learned to be careful of his movements. Part of it is from lingering nerve damage due to being left in the cold in Siberia for hours, but more than that, some of the other Avengers, the rogue Avengers as some in the media called them, are easily startled. He's mostly cautious around Wanda and Bucky, but it's a habit he's kept up with the others as well.
"Alright, Tinker Bell, that's enough," Tony says. "And, Barton, no I haven't been designing fairy robots, though that does sound like a fantastic idea for children's toys, don't you think?"
"I don't know. My kids aren't really into that sort of thing. I just want my arrows," Clint says, shrugging his shoulders.
"He's not your personal workhorse," Fanny says again.
"What? What are you telling people, Stark?" Clint looks angrily from Fanny to Tony.
"Nothing. I don't know what's going on."
"You expect me to believe that?" There's a bit of angry snark there, a familiar tone. Tony and Clint have always had a snarky relationship, but after Ultron and the Civil War, especially, it became angry, vengeance-filled snark. They so easily lashed out at each other when they were together and it was meant to cut deep. Tony knew that Clint's words, his barbs rattled around in his brain, joining his already repetitive, self-critical voice. What he didn't know, until they'd talked, until his therapist had given him the suggestion, was that his words stuck with Clint in the same manner. He'd always seen the master archer as easily confident with a thick skin that meant he didn't pay much attention to the insults. Since coming back to the Compound, they'd both been working on speaking more civilly to each other, talking about the real frustrations on their minds rather than snarking at each other until they blew up into a bigger argument, one that on occasion had ended in a fist fight that Tony always lost, though he did get some hits in.
"She did this thing with Wanda, too, when she came down about breakfast," Tony says. "Look, Fanny, there's nothing wrong here. I told Clint I'd work on some new arrows for him and he's just asking where they are."
"But the anger and demanding…" Fanny begins.
"I'm not angry or demanding," Clint counters. He was angry but not about the arrows; it's more disappointment about not having them ready.
"No. There wasn't anything threatening," Tony adds. Improving and building the team new weapons was part of his job, but it did have a tendency to be overwhelming. The protective streak in him as well as the egotistical side, he's come to realize, doesn't let him just pass these projects off to others. He wants to know and guarantee that the equipment will work. There were times, before the Civil War, that things got testy as they eagerly awaited their promised items. Guilt and stubbornness kept him from telling them how much he was suffering in those post-Ultron days. Between PTSD and anxiety, his concentration was shot. What might've taken a week to design, test, and fabricate, took weeks. Even Steve had started to lose his patience. And all of their pestering only made him more tense and quick to anger. His therapist talked him through, role played until he was comfortable, telling the others about his problems. They didn't know everything, but they'd figured a lot they'd all told him and his need for patience on their part with the equipment. He's doing better, but he still has days when he can't focus enough to explain why two and two is four. He hates it and he tries not to hate himself for it.
"See," Clint says, looking pointedly at Fanny. "It was a simple question. I know you've had some off days recently, so it's okay that they're not done. I just thought I'd ask."
"Yeah, just a couple off days last week." Tony's still uncomfortable with them knowing and talking freely about them. Rhodey had for so long been the only one to talk with about his bad days and now the whole team knew. It didn't help just him though. The others were also getting more comfortable in admitting that they didn't always have good days. For Steve, it was just about as difficult as Tony. The stoic soldier was modernizing quickly, but there were some notions that he had a hard time getting rid of. Steve had a therapist but, strangely, he often sought Tony out to talk. It was nearly always while Tony was working, but he still listened. Steve thought he wasn't at first, but Tony disproved him by easily reciting back nearly everything that Steve told him.
"Just because I talk a lot, doesn't mean I'm incapable of listening," Tony had told him quietly, some disappointment in his eyes that he couldn't hide despite his quick glance away.
"They're close to being done and are next up on the list, Clint, so check back this afternoon or I can just send you a text when they're ready." Tony's careful about how much he asks FRIDAY to do things for them. All of them had some hesitation with Tony's AI. FRIDAY is harmless, but he did concede to their worries and fears when they explained. He usually lets them decide their level of interaction with FRIDAY.
"Sounds good."
To the side, Tony hears a disappointed huff and feels the crackling of electricity as Fanny disappears from the lab.
"That's weird," Clint says, staring at the space where she was.
"You have no idea."
Once Clint leaves, Tony gets back to work, work which is punctuated by Pepper's texts about the Gala and FRIDAY reminding him about said Gala and the need to clean up before. He's sure that Peter's gotten into her code on Pepper's orders, adding such reminders. Despite the interruptions, he has made progress. The arrows he promised to Clint are just about done when FRIDAY informs him that Rogers is requesting entrance. Tony sighs and lets FRIDAY know to let him in. As much as they've talked and made efforts to work together, being around Steve is still hard for Tony. The source of the difficulty varies by the day, but at the root of it is the lack of trust. It's not something that comes back overnight, not even with an apology or the months of therapy he's undergone. The one thing that he has settled on is that he wants to trust Steve, but he can't. It's not a simple matter. Fortunately, Steve understands.
"What's up, Cap?" Tony doesn't look up as he's finalizing the arrows.
"Just coming to see how you're doing." The ease with which he speaks around Tony isn't faked anymore. As much as Tony's had issues to deal with in the aftermath of their fight, Steve has too. At first, Steve thought it was just anger, but the more he talked, some to Bucky and T'Challa and Sam, but also to a therapist because Sam said it wouldn't be the worst idea, he realized there was disappointment and distrust. Tony hadn't realized the full extent of his actions on the tenuous, new friendship that he and Steve had. He's always had some difficulty seeing the effects of his actions on others, but he's trying.
"Fine. Just fine." Tony sets aside the arrows, making a note to let Clint know he can come to pick them up for testing. Part of him is distracted, expecting Fanny to show up again, but she doesn't.
"You've got that Gala tonight, don't you," Steve says. Tony recognizes the tone immediately. This is just the beginning of an argument. They've worked on this, they've talked about how they react and they've both agreed to stay calm, talking about their differences in a mature manner, but Tony can't help the rankle at the tone. Perhaps it's the hours that he's spent in the lab working or the nagging feeling that Fanny will be back, but he's really not in the mood for this game.
"Yes, Captain." Tony straightens as he speaks, voice terse.
"And how long have you been down here working?"
"I don't see what that has to do with anything." It's childish the tactic he's taking and he can hear his therapist telling him that he needs to back off, but he can't.
"It has everything to do with it, Tony. You can't go to the Gala so exhausted. You haven't slept in nearly three days."
Then, before Tony can even manage a retort, there's a loud crackle of electricity and a familiar voice in that same irritating tone saying, "You cannot forbid him from going to the Gala!"
For a moment there's silence as Steve tries to sort out what's just happened and in that moment, Tony has a realization.
"Fuck. I just got this." Tony's exclamation breaks the silence, causing Fanny and Steve to look at him. As the connections unfold in his mind, he starts laughing, which only makes them give him stranger, more concerned looks.
"You okay, Tony," Steve asks, taking few steps closer to the man.
"You… you don't get it, do you," Tony says, still laughing. "They're all there. The fairy godmother, the evil stepsisters, and, even, the evil… evil step… mother." Tony's fully laughing again, bending over as the laughter overtakes him. He hears Steve talking with FRIDAY, but not what's said. The laughing feels good even though he's starting to feel it in his stomach. There's an ache that's pleasantly different from the ones used to.
As the laughter comes to an end, he's sitting on the floor, out of breath, and leaning against one of the legs of his table. Steve's kneeling in front of him, a mixture of worry and exasperation on his face. Fanny's there too, but on the other side.
"You back with me again, Tony," Steve asks.
"Huh? Um… yeah. Sure." Tony shakes his head to refocus. He still feels the euphoria of laughter lingering. "Sorry about that. You're… um… you're right. It has been a long few days."
"You know, I wasn't going to say anything about not going to the Gala. I know how much it means to you."
"Oh. It's probably for the best that I don't go, though." He thinks about the scene he's libel to cause in this state.
"Only if you don't want to. You've still got a few hours before you need to leave. I'd thought maybe you should get a short nap after having a late lunch. Sam and Scott have been in the kitchen cooking. I think they have some sandwiches and soup put together."
"Scott and Sam can cook?"
"Sam is a bachelor and Scott has a young daughter. They're not the best cooks, but they can put together a decent meal."
"You all've been hatching this plan for a few hours, haven't you?"
"You do need to come up for something to eat and a short nap. This Gala is for your mother and I… I just... Look, I know how much my mother meant to me and that if there was a Gala in her honor, I would be there no matter what. I know you're busy with things, but we figured we could at least help you with some things."
"Like food and making me take breaks. Did you send Clint down here for his arrows?"
"Him and Wanda clued us in on what was going on down here. You do need to take a break, Tony."
Tony pauses for a moment, looking at Steve, then looking around. Fanny's still here, watching them with far too much attention.
"You're right, Steve."
"No. No, that's not how it's supposed to go," Fanny cries out.
"Look you obnoxious little sprite, you think you have a clue about what's going on between me and my friends, but you don't, clearly," Tony says, tone firm as he points a finger at the fairy to make his point. "And everything you're saying only has the potential to screw up a lot of progress we've all made. Yes, we got mad at each other and fought. It was ugly and a lot of people got hurt in the process, but neither one of us was more or less right. We all screwed up and brought innocent people into the mix. But the important thing is that we're working through it, all of us, and it's going good."
"But…"
"You heard him, lady," Steve says. "I don't know who you are or why you're here, but I've heard nothing good about you all day. You're upsetting everyone here with your nonsense and attempts to reignite old wounds."
"I'm just here to help," Fanny says, voice small now as she sinks on herself.
"Yeah, help yourself," Tony says. "Leave now and if you come back just one more time, I'll make sure to send you off to SHIELD. I know of some scientists who would just love to study you."
Her face contorts in fear before she disappears with a crackle of electricity.
"A fairy godmother?" Steve looks at Tony.
"I don't understand it." Tony shrugs his shoulders and gets to his feet.
"Who got the idea that you were some damsel in distress?" Steve stands, still bewildered by the situation.
"I know. Me as Cinderella? I mean I know I have quite the figure, but really? Do I look like the type of person who'd just take shit off of people just to please them," Tony says as they make their way out of the lab. He picks up Clint's arrows on the way. He's looking forward to hearing the man's comments on the new designs. But for tonight, he's done with work. He has friends and a Gala to keep him busy for the remainder of the evening. There's always another day to get the work done unless he loses a shoe tonight. Then he's screwed.