"Usually the hardest task in accomplishing something difficult is starting it."
- - Shahzad Karachiwala
"How's it going, Kaiju Buster?" Junior LOCCENT Officer James Rhodes spoke into the microphone in front of him, hot cup of coffee sitting on the desk and voice relaying straight into the cockpit of the Jaeger.
"As smoothly as it can, Rhodey. Have you ever even put this kid in a drive suit before?" Tony's voice was obviously skeptical as it came from the speakers.
"Of course we have. It fits him, doesn't it?" Or at least it should, unless the new pilot had miraculously gained or lost around twenty pounds in several days.
There was a muted conversation from Tony's side of the line, to which the older pilot let out a snort.
"Loki says it could fit better. You should've let him do it the first time." The competence of that particular Suit Tech was widely talked about, maybe they should have left it to Loki in the first place
But still, Rhodey only rolled his eyes and turned to Phil who sat beside him. The head officer shrugged; everything appeared to fit right from their side. Even still, Tony's suit was set and ready to go, while Jarvis's was somehow still lagging behind.
"Second Pilot, is everything alright with your suit?" Rhodey spoke once more into the microphone, addressing Jarvis this time.
"Yes, sir. I've been instructed to tell you that Mr. Loki has made putting it on into an unnecessary competition and that you should not use his speed as a measure of your own."
Beside him, Phil chuckled. It was a nice break from the tense atmosphere. Most of LOCCENT believed today would be successful, but that didn't do much to lighten the mood. If they weren't right in believing that then, well, they'd be short a pair of pilots and that didn't exactly bode well for the fate of humanity. The general consensus seemed to be that if Stark couldn't drift with an amnesiac, he couldn't drift with anyone. What that meant for the Kaiju Buster was unclear, but Stark certainly wouldn't be piloting again. On the other hand, Jarvis might be able to drift with someone else but at the end of the day he was still just a rookie pilot. Without someone as skilled as Tony fighting, it'd be a big step back for humans.
With a sigh and pursed lips Rhodey pressed a button on the console that would relay his voice into Tony's helmet only, and spoke quietly into the mic.
"Listen, Tony-I don't need to be in your head to tell you don't like this guy. Whatever, I don't really care if your best friends or not. But...at least give this thing a chance, alright? Without Buster we're down to two teams and-" But he lecture never really came to a close as Tony cut him off.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Let's just do this alright." Which might as well just be Stark-speak for 'you're right and i'll do what you said'. With that knowledge in mind Rhodey leaned back with a smile before slipping into business mode. They did have a first drift to initiate after all.
The door opened behind Rhodey before Marshal Fury appeared at Phil's side, the Chief officer choosing to get down to business instead of turning to acknowledge the man.
"Alright, guys, make us proud." Phil said into his microphone before pressing the appropriate buttons to turn the whole thing over to Rhodey, giving the Junior Officer a nod.
"Initiating neural handshake in 20 seconds." He watched as numbers appeared on the screen before him as the routine protocols engaged, listening in and Tony's voice came over the intercom, but this time he was speaking to Jarvis.
"Remember kid, don't chase the RABIT. Drift's like a storm; let it pass over you and everything will be just fine." some sage advice from a veteran pilot, no doubt. At least it was a step in the right direction for the both of them.
"There's nothing here for me to chase, Sir. Everything belongs to you." And that was exactly the reason the PPDC had picked Jarvis in the first place.
"10..9..8..." As the number grew smaller and smaller on the screen, the atmosphere in the office grew more and more tense, the gravity of the situation finally falling on all of them. It was extended to the small group of fellow pilots and staff standing in the hangar as well; Rhodey could see the distinct red hair of Natasha Romanov from his seat.
This was the biggest event to hit the Oregon Shatterdome in nearly a year, and everyone knew it.
"3...2...1...NEURAL INTERFACE DRIFT INITIATED"
The words appeared large on the holographic screen before them, all of their gazes turning to Kaiju Buster as the Jaeger came to life under the minds of it's two pilots. The reactor in it's chest glowed a bright blue light, which flickered before stabilizing as the Jaeger raised up one fist and then another. Rhodey smiled before standing, reaching in to manipulate the hologram of Kaiju Buster that appeared before him.
"Left and right hemispheres are fully calibrated and drift levels are stabilizing, Sir." Rhodey relayed the information from his screen to the Marshal, the severe man actually looking rather pleased to hear it.
But Phil was frowning as he watched the numbers on the screen slowly grind to a halt, "They're hovering right above 90 percent alignment-not really what we'd hoped for."
"I'll take it with all the evading I'm sure Stark is doing." the Marshal was probably correct; Rhodey was certain Tony was mentally scrambling to keep certain memories from his newest copilot; if he wasn't careful the pair would slowly drift more and more out of eachothers headspace.
He then turned back to his microphone and addressed the pilots once more, "Looking good guys, just a few quick stabilization tests and we'll have ourselves a successful first drift. Everyone feeling okay in there?"
"Yes, Sir-it is much less jarring than I expected." Jarivs sounded surprised; he'd probably been expecting a lot more push-back from Tony.
"Hey, I can be professional you know." And Tony just sounded offended; clearly that assumption was correct and the thought had gotten through.
"Of course, Sir-I never said you couldn't." Jarvis was quick to pacify the older man, something that made the atmosphere in the room ease a bit; their banter was an even better sign.
And just like that it was over; ten minutes later the big moment, the one they'd spent countless weeks preparing for and worrying over, had passed with nary a hiccup. Kaiju Buster was shutting down once more and the small crowd that had gathered in the hanger applauded as both pilots emerged from the cockpit and stepped off the open lift that lowered them to the platform. Later on people would say that Tony looked a somewhat harsh mixture of smug and slightly disappointed, as if he had known the drift would go well all along and had simultaneously been hoping it wouldn't. Jarvis just looked vaguely dazed, still managing a smile to those who patted him on the back in congratulations of a very successful first drift.
Other people would say that Tony was acting like a complete ass. These people were the pilot pair of Helldiver Orion, Steve Rogers and James "Bucky" Barnes-the tall blond man more so than his shorter cousin. The pair emerged from the crowd of impressed onlookers, Rogers very clearly less than impressed, his gaze directing that feeling straight towards Tony. Bucky only looked like he was humoring his copilot and his stricter ways.
"You call that a performance, Stark? Quit looking so smug, you barely kept it above 90." Steve was clearly ready for a conflict of some kind, more than ready to instigate one.
"Woah, woah, hold up there golden boy, how do you know it was my fault?" the older pilot was defensive, managing to look intimidating despite their marked height difference.
"Because you know what you're doing; meanwhile your copilot has never drifted before today but from what I heard he did much better than some half-assed 90 in simulations. So that only leaves one person to blame; you, and whatever stupid grudge you've been broadcasting since you met the guy." Though his words must have been grating to Tony's ego, they held some measure of truth in them. The drift was barely in the acceptable range and there was no way Jarvis's memories could have affected the link.
"Why don't you let him speak for himself, huh? Quit putting words in his mouth." Tony huffed, crossing his arms in a guarding gesture. No way the pride and joy of the PPDC was going to step all over his toes, just because he thought he was better.
"Oh, so now you want to defend him? When you've been doing nothing but refusing to even give him the time of day?" Steve countered.
"Sorry about my cousin, Steve can get a little hot headed when he's around Stark." Salvation came in the form of Bucky Barnes, leather jacket creaking as he put a genial arm around Jarvis' shoulders. The arguing pilots had the good sense to appear somewhat ashamed of their actions, Steve clearly more so than Tony. He gave the new pilot an apologetic look and stepped back from Tony. For his part Stark's unimpressed expression did not change much, but he did glance at his copilot as though suddenly coming to the realization that his opinion of him actually mattered.
But as quick as it had come that moment passed and Tony nearly stormed out of the hangar, muttering something about 'getting this damn drive suit off'. Jarvis sighed slightly as he watched him go, before turning to the two before him.
"Sorry about Stark Junior too, you did really well for your first official drift." Bucky congratulated him with a pat on the back, which Steve was quick to pick up in order to not make himself seem the raging tyrant as he might have moments before.
"Yeah, but don't expect Mr. Ego to admit that. Great job kid, especially up against the tiny tyrant." as the crowds dispersed slightly, the spectacle of the drift fading, Clint made his way through them and to where the small gathering of pilot had popped up, Natasha trailing behind him.
"Thank you; it wasn't so very difficult." Jarvis was quick to try and downplay their compliments; it really wasn't as impressive as they were all making it out to be.
"In any case, it's nice to finally meet somebody I've heard so much about. Names Clint Barton and this is my copilot Natasha Romanov. Ours' is that big dark one down the end; Nomad Eden." Clint pointed to the sleek black Jaeger down towards the end of the hangar, "Tiny girl but hell of a punch on her if I do say so myself."
"And I've heard much about you, sir. Nine confirmed kills is an impressive resume." he politely responded, smiling genuinely for the first time since he woke up that morning.
Clint looked slightly confused, "How'd you remember that? I thought you were one of those forgetful types?"
The pilots face must have betrayed his shock because Clint immediately began to backpedal, entirely missing the ginger Russian's scolding look as well as Bucky's rapscallion grin.
"Oh shit, man, I'm sorry. I was trying to be funny! Crap, I didn't think that through." He groaned, practically hiding his face in shame.
"It's alright, really." Jarvis said, mouth turning up in a smile that was really more of a grimace, "Though I fail to see how having no memories is a comedic situation."
"It's not, really, I just- It was poor taste, I didn't really think before I said it." He started to apologize again, and might have continued on for the better part of an hour, had Natasha not stopped him.
"He does that a lot." she cut in, "Not thinking things through."
"No, I meant it, it really is alright." Jarvis echoed, his smile becoming much larger and genuine, "I don't mind at all. I was joking, sir, I wasn't offended."
The group watched Jarvis for a moment, slightly surprised if they had to be honest. To them the man had appeared and had been expected to be humourless, given that he had suffered a tragic event that left him with such a severe case of amnesia. It wasn't the ideal situation for having a good sense of humor. But apparently humans were much more resilient than even other humans gave them credit for. After a moment the tension was broken as Natasha chuckled, a sentiment that was picked up quickly by the rest of the group.
As far as Tony could tell from a few days watching was that a day in the life of Mr. Prissy-Pants Edwin Jarvis went something like this: wake up at 6:30 AM and insist on waking Tony up as well by slamming his door (seriously, who the fuck even thought about waking up that early?). Then he'd walk down and take the most boring, silent shower Tony had ever not-heard anyone take, before paddling back to his room and, slamming the door once again, and proceeding to get dressed. Well, by then Tony was up and there was no point in even trying to go back to sleep since his across-the-hallmate had no sense of proper neighborly etiquette.
At exactly 7:30 AM on the dot his copilot (the phrase made Tony scrunch his nose in disgust) would exit his room and walk down to the mess hall to eat the most boring meal Tony had ever seen a man eat. He'd actually followed him the first day, sat at an adjacent table with Clint and Natasha just to watch him. And, as he watched, Jarvis ate slowly and methodically, not one single food touching it's neighbor. It was sickening. He might as well organize them by color or texture or fat content for Christ' sakes. Of course, of fucking course, the one thing his copilot 'indulged' himself in was a cup of tea. Tea. How much more British could he get? He didn't even put any brandy in it like Tony might have; just two deathly boring spoonfuls of sugar and not enough milk to do anything more than change the shade of brown..
After his stupid cup of smarmy British tea was finished it was by then 8:15 or so, at which time Jarvis would simply wander around for a few hours. No headphones on his head, no book or newspaper in hand. Just wander around, completely silent, taking it all in. No stopping to play chess with Natasha or catch with Bucky, heavens no-that much fun might kill him. Tony had followed him then as well, just once, the first time he'd caught him meandering. Call it masochistic of him, call it a kind of detached curiosity; hell if Tony knew why. But if he'd been hoping to see the guy do anything other than mentally map the place out he was sorely disappointed.
He was back from his wanderings around 11 o'clock or so, by which time Tony was normally just getting into the shower and heading down to the mess hall to catch the end of breakfast like a normal, respectable person should. He had better things to do, afterall, than waking up at the crack of dawn to wander around like a goddamn ghost. And, every single day, Jarvis had the gall to wish him a 'good morning, Sir' every time they passed in that stupidly proper accent. As if Tony was actually going to do more than vaguely grunt back.
By the time he was leaving breakfast, he'd pass Jarvis on his way to lunch. Who actually ate precisely at noon? Boring people, apparently. Tony did try to follow him after lunch once, but only managed to get to the elevator before deciding it was hard to discreetly follow someone while being in the same 4 foot by 6 foot space. Even still, Tony did catch which floor Jarvis got off on; apparently he and the pair down in the K-Science wing really had hit it off. Well, good for them. The more time he spent down there, the less time he spent ruining Tony's day by virtue of existing.
After a few hours of whatever the hell they did down there, the pilots met each other in the hangar to suit up for that days round of tests.
They didn't talk any more than they had too. Correction, Tony didn't talk any more than he could discreetly avoid. He joked with Loki as the tech hovered around him, he paid closer than usual attention to what Phil was doing-basically anything he could do to ignore his copilot. Not that it mattered, they'd be inside each others heads much sooner than Tony would like- he hated the feeling of having someone else knocking around in there. It wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter, and trying to keep memories from Jarvis was only going to lower their drift rate.
That didn't mean he wouldn't try.
Tony lost track of the kid for much of the afternoon after lunch to the hustle and bustle of the Shatterdome, not that he was keeping tabs or anything. He'd play with Dummy for a while, have the puppy fetch him snacks, play basketball with Bucky; Tony didn't have enough time to worry about what Edwin Jarvis was doing with his day. He didn't really see him again until that night, when Jarvis was walking back from yet another shower; who the hell showered twice a day? Could the kid really not find a pair of sweatpants his size? Maybe they were with the shirt he refused to wear, or the towel he refused to actually dry his hair with. What good did it to draped around his shoulders like that? Well he certainly had a working toothbrush, as anal retentive as Jarvis seemed to be about keeping his perfect teeth in perfect condition. Maybe they could blind the Kaiju with them and win the war that way. Tony often went to bed in a huff after that, seeking solace in his classic rock music.
But apparently even that was too much fun for Ranger Tightass, not even half an hour would go by before Tony would hear a knock with only a yellow post-it note to greet him. He'd taken to crossing out the original message and putting his response underneath:
'If at all possible could you please turn the music down? I'm trying to sleep.
When pigs fly out of my ass.'
'Please turn your music down. Sleeplessness will affect our drift percentages.
So does being a breathing log.'
'You're being extremely childish. I hate AC/DC.
We're not drift compatible anymore, sorry.'
'Simply because I don't share your taste in music? You are twice my age, aren't you? Turn it down.
Shut up, you whippersnapper, I can't hear you over my music. Lemme turn up my hearing aid.'
Finally a janitor had to come by and throw the passive aggressive mosaic of paper away. Evidently some in the Shatterdome thought it was getting a little absurd.
Despite the squabbling via paper, Friday came, and with it slightly better than normal test results. They'd almost reaching a 95 percent drift rate, but the suits down in LOCCENT were still hoping for better. Tony was sure they blamed him, all except Rhodey, but he didn't give a rat's ass. There were just some things that stick in the mud didn't need to know; who could blame him for not trusting the guy? (Well, if he really gave it some thought maybe "trust" wasn't the issue. It might have been more like his own ego getting in his way, but that wasn't something Tony Stark was planning on changing anytime soon.)
Sticking to his guns with the silent treatment, Tony said nothing to Jarvis after they finished testing. In fact, he made it all the way to his seat in the mess hall without a word. Even if he acted like a prick most of the time, Tony wasn't one to ruin a meal by being too much of a jerk while there was food in front of him. In fact, he was in the habit of eating with the other pilots at dinner; food proving a good enough distraction from his making sarcastic comments for the others to tolerate him. This night was no exception aside from the newest member across the table from Bucky. Jarvis had eaten by himself for the first several nights, but Steve had insisted they go out of their way to welcome their newest comrade in arms. For the past several nights Tony had been conveniently too busy working with the engineers on some upgrades for Kaiju Buster to join them. He had no such excuses tonight.
"Look, I'm not saying it's a good idea, I'm just saying it's not completely terrible." Clint was in the middle of saying as Tony took his seat with his food. Jarvis was only a few seats away, but as he sat Tony refused to even acknowledge him.
For his part Steve wore the look of concerned father well, not a look he wore rarely, "In what universe could that even be considered not a bad idea? The Marshal would kill you."
"Only if he caught me. Right, Stark?" he nudged Tony, "You'd help me, right?"
"Help you with what? Suicide? I'm already on Patchy's shit list, I don't need to piss him off anymore." Tony huffed, shoveling a bunch of peas into his mouth. "But I'm all for it. What have you got planned?"
Jarvis watched Tony interact with everyone, silently seething and doing his very best to keep quiet. He might not remember much of the Kaiju attacks, but his memory did begin with one. Fire and blood, abandoned streets and car alarms ringing out with no one to turn them off. And here they all were, the people specially chosen to fight the Kaiju threat, laughing and contemplating playing a prank on the man whose job it was to run the entire resistance effort. Week after week, attack after attack people were dying, people like the one he had been were getting hurt. And they were spending time playing pranks when they could be training, getting stronger, searching for ways to end this bloody war.
Jarvis suddenly found he lost his appetite.
Tony watched as the blonde Englishmen quietly excused himself from the table with a mutter of something about not feeling well before getting up and leaving altogether. At first Tony merely brushed his actions off as being too stuck up to actually laugh at anything, but something really rubbed him the wrong way about the whole situation. He had no reason he could place, but nevertheless was pissed off at everything for the rest of his meal. As he stomped back to his room he passed Jarvis's open doorway (open? The kid had never left his door open before) and saw him angrily sitting at his desk. The anger was obvious, the blonde usually so much of a brick wall that any emotion was like a bright splash of paint across the usually drab grey surface. Tony slammed his door shut in response, a childish move to he sure, and decided he didn't need a reason to be angry. It had nothing to do with him after all, it had to be the newbie's fault. Ghost drifting? Was that what Bruce had called it? Must be, he would remember a stupid name like that.
Notes:
Feel free to give feedback! Comments are appreciated. This was written for Brilcrist's Pacific Rim AU contest. We hope you stick around for the rest.
For questions, comments, etc. the authors' tumblrs are
-wintermoons
-libertybell