All These Voices
So. I just watched Far From Home like an hour ago and there's going to be a story with Ava after the Infinity War and Endgame ones because every time MJ and Peter had a moment, I just thought of Ava lol. On with the chapter.
Chapter Three
The pain dwindles down to a dull throb throughout the day to the point where I can easily manage it with a few Tylenol I take after fifth period.
Happy's waiting at the curb as usual after school, waiting to drive me home.
I climbed into the large car, attempting not to jostle around a lot in case it starts up the aching in my head again.
"Good day?" Happy asks, craning his head to the backseat to look at me.
"The best," I say trying to be as casual as possible as I strap on my seatbelt.
Happy drives slower than he did this morning since he's not in that big of a hurry.
It's nice getting the chance to relax for a little bit, snuggling back into the molded leather and hugging my arms to my chest. I'm practically asleep when Happy shifts the car into park and looks back at me pointedly.
"Oh. Right," I slur, lifting my backpack from the seat next to me. "See you tomorrow."
His brow furrows. "Get some sleep, Ava."
I nod a bit disoriented stepping onto the gravel walkway.
I'm about halfway to my front door when it hits me; that familiar sinking feeling in my gut that makes me forget about my head for a minute.
I run the last few steps do the door scrambling with the eye and fingerprint scan for a moment before Friday gives me a warm and cheerful hello and the door swings open. I hurry inside to see Pepper sitting at our kitchen counter. She looks more worried than usual, but she's getting close to mastering the art of hiding her emotions.
"Where'd he go?" I ask, getting our greetings out of the way with a brief nod.
Pepper doesn't look surprised. She never is. "Unusually large power surge a few miles up north. It was huge from what I could tell. Maybe as big as Odie trying to power up his own Iron Man suit."
I blink at her. We normally never talk about Odie, just treat him like a disowned family member or something. I was too little to remember everything that happened with him but I can call up a short memory of Dad scooping me up to whisper that I needed to go find Pepper and then kissing my cheek before setting me down. And of course, the press conference that changed our lives.
Pepper smiles at me gently. "I set up the office for you if you want to go down there," she says, squeezing my hand.
A weak smile graces my features and I thank her lowly before starting the trek down the stairs to what we refer to as Dad's office. Pepper knows me so well.
The sight of all of his half-finished projects and mismatched machinery scattered all around the large high-ceilinged chamber calms me instantly as always and I slump down in his spindly chair beside the wicker basket of screws.
"Good afternoon, Ava," Friday greets, lighting up the table before me.
"Hey, Friday," I say, propping my chin on my hand. "When did Dad go out?"
"Your father, Tony Stark exited the premises one hour, thirty-seven minutes and fourteen seconds ago."
"Mm. Friday, play music. I can't concentrate in silence." I grumbled, pulling my French textbook out of my backpack.
She doesn't even ask me what I want to listen to, just starts up my typical AC/DC.
French class is one of the most aggravating things I've ever had the misfortune of mindlessly sitting through.
I'm sure I can operate every piece of machinery in the cavernous room with ease but there's something about verbs translated into French that just delays my brain.
It's three hours of basically not doing anything before I finally give up and head up to my room without dinner. Dad being out normally takes the appetite out of me.
My phone's still turned on and I'm still on alert which means when the phone rings, I lunge at it and have it in my hand in three seconds flat.
Seeing it's Peter that's the source of the call, I quickly hit the accept button and a wave of questions tumble out of me.
"Are you with my dad? Are you okay? Is the power surge dangerous? Is the algebra homework due Monday or Tuesday?"
The sound of clashing metal and pained grunts fill my ear and my eyes fly wide open. That's not a good sign.
"Yes, maybe, extremely, Tuesday," Peter gasps out, like he's just run a marathon.
"What do you need me to do?" I say, fingers already scrambling for my dresser drawer that holds Dad's car keys.
"Don't try to come," he says stubbornly.
I pout a little but he continues as quick as possible when the sounds of battle are cranked up a notch.
"Ava, there's hundreds of them, surrounding us. I think one of them is leading all of the others but they shift around so much it's impossible to tell," he tells me and I pause.
"Monsters?" I ask, uncertainly.
"They're like dogs but they're nothing like dogs. They have scales, Ava. And opposable thumbs."
"They have scaly thumbs?"
"Their leader, before he disappeared into the crowd, he said that once we find the key his master will find us."
I grip the phone closer to my ear, quickly committing his words to memory. "You could've told me that when you come home."
He speaks back in a choked voice that sounds like he's about to cry and it breaks my heart. "I may not come back!"
"You're going to come home you idiot, and you better believe it. You're going to sit with me and Ned at lunch and you're going to struggle not to slap Flash in the face on Monday. That's your only option. You're not allowed to die, hear me?"
I silently beg him to say something, to laugh or cry or just do something, to prove he was still with me, holding on.
Instead he screams.
It's a loud petrifying noise that shakes me to my core. If I close my eyes I can still imagine it clear as day.
The line cuts off and I almost scream myself. I instantly press the Call Back button but after a few rings it goes to voicemail.
My panic for both my father and best friend has a tight grip on me almost an overwhelming sense of fear.
It's another terrifying forty-five seconds of alternatively calling Dad's and Peter's cell phones before the voice from last night slips right back into my head.
Now, now, that's enough for tonight, don't you think, little Stark? We have plenty of time in the future to break you.
My personal demon seems to take over me, sending me toppling back onto my bed and into a deep dreamless sleep.
Even though I fell asleep last night fully clothed spread over my blankets and sheets, I wake up the following morning dressed in the pajamas I had worn two nights ago and nestled comfortably underneath my heavy blanket.
The moment my eyes snap open, I'm already scrambling to work myself out of the puffy mattress and blanket and rush downstairs, very nearly causing Pepper to spill the contents of the coffee cup in her hand.
"Dad? Peter? Dead? Monsters?" Everything comes spilling out of me in a messy slur that makes absolutely no sense in retrospect.
My vision hones in on my father as confused as ever. I'm about to run to him for more of a comfort to myself than him when Pepper speaks up.
"Are you feeling okay, Ava? You can stay home from school if you like, but if you're going to go, you'll have to hurry to get dressed if you're going to meet Happy's standards."
School? It's Saturday!
My gaze flits to the electronic calendar installed in the wall that Friday never fails to keep updated.
Instead of October twentieth, the device marks that today is indeed October nineteenth.
The voice in my head seems to chuckle more openly.
Okay, yeah this chapter kinda sucks but plot twist! This isn't going to turn into Groundhog's Day, I swear.