Hi! I'm not dead, I promise. I've just been distracted by a few things – other fandoms, school, a thing called 'real life'.
Yeah, it sucks. But here's the latest chapter – it's a bit longer than usual to make up for my absence.
Thanks to candycrum, Darth Becky 726, Csilla (Guest) and Esha Napoleon for reviewing the last chapter.
Malibu Mansion was in chaos.
Granted, it was in chaos 99% of the time, given that it was home to a bunch of chaotic superheroes at the moment, but still, you'd think that after the revelation we'd just undergone, it would be less chaotic than usual.
And you'd be wrong.
Thanks to the…events at SI New York (okay, fine, maybe I screwed up, but did I have a choice? No.) the Avengers had kicked into high gear; we had pulled in everyone we could (Rhodey was busy doing burn-before-reading classified stuff somewhere). Even Coulson, for god's sake! He had gladly slipped out of "Personal Assistant" mode and into "Agent of motherfrickin' SHIELD" mode, but his very recruitment – after I promised four years ago to not call him in anymore – should stand to how desperate we were.
And the absolute worst part? I couldn't lift a finger to help. After Nat, Steve, Sam, Dad, and I returned home and endured obligatory poking and prodding from Bruce, my shoulder was officially diagnosed as sprained and I was wrestled into a light sling, which I would have to wear for the next month or so.
And even worse, Clint had been appointed – or probably appointed himself – to Taylor-watching duty, so there was no way for me to get out of this.
Not that I minded spending time with my boyfriend; don't get me wrong. It's just that there's only so many times you can play Fruit Ninja with someone before you go insane.
"Taylor?" I look up from slicing a watermelon to see my dad standing a few feet away. "Can I borrow you for a second?"
"Sure," I agree with no hesitation whatsoever, scrambling out of my chair to follow him out of the room. "Oh my god, thank you."
"Well, I'm not quite a god, that'd be Thor," Dad jokes. "But you're welcome. Figured you needed a break, and I wanted to show you something."
I perk up – he probably had some new tech to show me, which would be a welcome break. "What is it?"
"You'll see," he replies coyly.
I harrumph at him, poking him in the side a moment later. "Are we there yet?"
"No," he sighs.
"Are there yet?" I ask again, fighting a grin.
He side-eyes me. "No."
"Are we there yet?" I ask again, my lips slowly curling into an obnoxious grin.
"No." He rolls his eyes and throws an arm over my shoulders. "Are you two or twenty-two?"
"Somewhere in between," I quip as we reach a set of double doors that looked tough enough to hold back a tank. I give them a careful look. "Are we there now?"
"Yep." Dad nods and presses his hand to a biometric scanner near the door, then motioning for me to do the same. Once I do, the doors slide open to reveal a large, circular space with glass cases on the walls, each holding an early version of the Iron Man suit.
"Oh," I hum, scanning my surroundings. "Elysium."
"Yeah," Dad agrees. "What, you didn't realize that the entire way here? You've been here before."
"Not very often," I argue, "and I just call the suits."
"Alright, whatever," Dad says, holding his hands up in surrender. "But to get back on topic…"
"What did you want to show me?" I ask curiously.
"Well, it's more of a 'tell you' and then 'show you,'" he explains slowly. "What do you say to working on a project with me? Just the two of us, like we used to."
I bite my lip. As intriguing and inviting as the offer sounded, I wasn't sure I should or could. "Is this really the best time for that?"
"I promise it's related to the current situation."
I nod, rocking back on my heels. "Okay, sounds good. What are we working on?"
"Jarvis."
I immediately begin choking on my own saliva. Once I've regained a bit of my composure, I whirl around to stare at my dad. "I'm sorry, did you just say-?!"
"Jarvis," he repeats calmly. "You know, the AI that's gone MIA?"
"Yeah…but you never let me work on Jarvis!" I protest.
"No, I don't let little kids work on Jarvis," he corrects, "no matter how brilliant they may be. I didn't want you to be responsible for creating HAL 2.0."
I consider this for a moment before nodding – I had to admit that putting a child or teenager in front of a system like Jarvis could have devastating consequences.
"But why now?" I question.
"Well…you're twenty-two, neither a child nor a teenager; you're a brilliant programmer, one of the world's best, if not the best; and let's face it, one of these days you're going to need to take over just about everything. You need to know how things work."
"Sure, stroke my ego a little more," I tell him, voice dripping with sarcasm. "And you're not dead yet."
"Do you want to work on Jarvis or not?" he asks exasperatedly.
"Yes," I answer instantly. "Of course."
"I figured," he nods, turning back to the control panel he'd been messing with before. "You may want to stand back."
I take a few big steps backwards, my eyes widening as the floor begins to split open. Sections of the floor spin away, retracting until there's a hole about ten feet wide in front of us.
My jaw drops slightly as I make my way to the very edge of the hole, my toes hanging off the edge slightly as I peer down into the hole. "You weren't kidding when you named this place 'Heaven.'"
Behind me, I hear my dad hum in agreement before warning, "Be careful, that's a deep drop with no safety lines. If you wouldn't mind taking a step back, Miss Daredevil…"
I roll my eyes but take a step back anyways before looking back down. Below me, there were thousands – well, it seemed like thousands – of lights. The ones on top were circular, but father down they were triangular, like…
Oh.
I glance down at the reactor sitting in my chest, over to the Mark III, and then back down into the hole. These were suits, and judging by the number of lights, every single suit.
"Holy shit."
Dad just rolls his eyes, a nonverbal way of telling me to watch my language because I was too old to be reprimanded out loud. "Nice, isn't it?"
"I restate my case: you named this place 'Heaven.'"
"I love my genius," he says with a cocky smirk.
I flick my eyes upwards, breathing out through my nose. "I know that. If you've just kidnapped me to boost your own ego…"
He doesn't reply, instead pushing a button on his tablet. A loud whoosh sounds from below us, easily recognized as thrusters, before two suits come into view.
By now, I was used to the grandeur the suits present, but these still took my breath away. There were two – the right was slightly smaller and leaner than the left, but they were otherwise similar. But compared to the red and gold or black and purple, these were like negative exposure: painted a crisp blue and white.
They were mainly a clean white, the chest plates gleaming in the light. The detailing on the joints and the sides of the helmet was the same shade of blue of the reactors.
"Meet Mark 30 and 30-B," Dad announces. "Otherwise known as Seal and Seal Pup."
"Why are they called that?" I ask, studiously ignoring the fact that I always got stuck with the baby animal names. Always.
"You'll see," Dad replies cryptically. "Shall we?"
"Can we?" I retort, waving one hand towards my sling.
"Eh," he side-eyes me, unconcerned. "The suit should support it. We shouldn't be going into combat."
I give him a long look, but decide that Dad wouldn't be letting me go if he wasn't sure. "Alright."
"Good!" He grins and picks up a wrench. "Let's get dressed, shall we?"
"You're horrible," I snort, grabbing my undersuit from where I had it stored in a locker and head for the bathroom, unfastening the sling along the way.
Once I managed to stuff myself into the not-spandex, I return to the main floor to see Dad about three-quarters of the way done. I grab my own socket wrench and begin dismantling the smaller suit, sitting down and getting to work.
I've got an entire leg on before I look up. "This is probably a bit too late, but where are we going?"
"17.75 ° N, 144 ° E," Dad replies, not looking up from his work.
"Longitude and latitude," I sigh. For a moment, I try to calculate that in my head, giving up once it becomes apparent that I was an engineering major, not a geography one. "Whatever. Lemme just…" I reach for the wrench again.
It takes about another half hour to get most of my suit on, then help Dad with his suit, then for us to help each other with the back pieces.
"You seriously need to upgrade every single suit you own," I tell the HUD. "Because manual labor? So last century."
"Noted," Iron Man replies dryly. "But it works just fine. How's the shoulder?"
I lift the bruised tissue up and then set it down, assisted by the servos in the suit. "It's alright." I smirk, looking down at where Dad's face was showing in the HUD. "You lead the way."
He nods and lifts off, and I take a deep breath before activating the thrusters and following.
.
I am damn lucky I actually know how to fly the suit.
Jarvis is all fine and dandy, and actually extremely helpful. But as great as he was, when I was a little baby superhero, I would spend hours in the suit, learning the ins and outs of flying, something which I'd never done before and now had to be really good at in order to not die.
And so now? When Jarvis was MIA? I could still fly. Sure, it was simple and lacked maneuvers of any sort, but it was flight. And I was fine.
Well, mostly fine. It had been seven hours of this, and we were currently cruising over the middle of the Pacific Ocean and everything, everywhere was sore.
"Have you brought me out here to kill me?" I ask, activating the comm line.
"That wasn't generally on my schedule today," Dad deadpans. "Let me check and see."
"If it's not that, then I can only conclude that you've finally lost it and dragged me out here for no reason," I continue. "In that case, I'm calling Natasha to come and get you while and then the funny farm."
"Tasha is used to my madness by now," he comments, unconcerned.
I perk up. "She's 'Tasha' now?"
He doesn't respond to that, instead slowing down and decreasing altitude. "We're here."
"And we will be talking about that later," I vow, following him. "Uh, where are we?"
"Dive."
"What?!" I squawk, internally wonder where the nearest mental hospital.
"Dive," Dad repeats, more forcefully this time.
I pause, because Dad wouldn't hurt me, no matter how stupid the idea, he wouldn't hurt me-
I dive.
There's a split second of complete and utter panic, because I'm in a metal suit that weighs about 200 pounds, and that sinks. And the reactor's uncovered, that's bad, what if water gets in there and I die and holyfuckingshitshitSHIT—
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
I'm not sinking. And…alive.
I slowly open my eyes to find an expanse of blue stretched out before me, tinted by the HUD. Something nudged my leg, and I look down to see a fish swim by.
"Um." I look up at Dad, who was still a few feet away. "How-"
"Propellers," he explains, turning around so I could see the two small propellers sticking out of the bottom of the back of the suit, pointing downward. There were also two jets on the back, currently shooting out pressurized streams of water that was probably recycled from the surrounding ocean.
One final piece clicks into place: earlier, Dad hadn't said seal, as in the animal. He'd said SEAL, as in Navy SEAL. Sea, Air, and Land.
"You built underwater suits," I breathe with a laugh. "You – you actually did."
"Is that doubt I hear in your voice?" he teases, diving deeper still.
"'Course not," I grin as I follow him. We fly - swim? propel? - for a few more minutes, at least, before I slow down and peer into the dark water ahead of us. We were at depth where the water was as black as a moonless night, and there was no way of telling which way was up.
"I can't see a thing," I mutter, fumbling for the external light switch. I flick the lights on, and they reveal a concrete wall a few feet in front of me, branded with big, bold letters spelling out "STARK INDUSTRIES."
Inside the helmet, my eyes widen. I sweep the lights side to side, revealing that this was no wall; it was a building, low and flat and made entirely of concrete.
I turn to Dad, the lights reflecting off the white suit in almost an angelic manner. "How did I not know we had a location here?"
"It's need-to-know, and you didn't," he replies flatly, diving down again and leaving me no choice but to follow.
He pauses in front of a glass panel and motions for me to stop. "This may hurt."
I whip my head up. "What may-"
I'm cut off by a massive rushing sound, a bit like a washing machine. The world spins as the suit is tossed and tumbled like it weighed nothing, the view through the HUD becoming blurred.
Until it all stops with me being thrown into something hard, not only headfirst but with my injured shoulder hitting first.
I must've blacked out for a few seconds there, because when my eyes open again, I'm staring at a white ceiling with no water in sight.
"Did I die?" I ask, flipping the faceplate up.
"I'd hope not," Dad's voice says somewhere off to the side, and I look over to see him leaning against a wall, completely de-suited and with a tumbler in his hand.
"Do you keep booze everywhere you visit?" I ask, grunting as I scrabble for the emergency releases.
"Well, this is ice tea, so no." Dad sets the glass down and helps me with the suit, then helping me to my feet. "Your shoulder?"
"Alright," I say with a half-shrug, accepting the sweatshirt and pants Dad hands me from somewhere. I'm assuming they're his, given that I have to roll up the pant legs and the sleeves and pull the drawstring as tight as it'll go, and the sweatshirt goes until about mid-thigh, but I don't mind. It fulfills the daddy's girl hiding inside me, I guess.
I'll deny that if asked.
Shaking myself from my rambling thoughts, I take a look around. Dad and I are standing in a spartanly furnished room, almost empty except for a bar counter along the left wall and the suit ports on the right. Behind me, there was a massive Plexiglas panel, and beyond that, the Pacific Ocean in all its glory. On the opposite wall, there was only one feature: a gigantic steel door with locks and bars and two keypads, a biometric scanner, a retinal scanner, and a vault-style handle.
"Damn," I whistle lowly. "Are you competing with SHIELD to see who can come up with the most impenetrable fortress?"
"Mine is better," Dad boasts. "In case you haven't noticed, we're underwater."
"How deep?"
"10,944 meters, or just about 36,000 feet," Dad reports without hesitation, as if this information was on the top off his head.
I give the wall a surreptitious glance, just to make sure they weren't caving in under the pressure down here, before taking a deep breath and straightening my back. "What do I need to do?"
"Atta girl," Dad praises with an easy grin. "Come over here."
I walk over and watch as he puts in a numeric code, then a palm scan and an eye scan, and another code before stepping back and making me do the same.
"Paranoid, much?" I quip as the locks disengage with metallic clicks.
He shrugs. "I'd do the same for you. Same principle, really."
I am extremely confused by that statement, but I shuffle behind Dad as he hauls open the Hulk-like door, leading me down a short hallway to an anticlimactic office door that unlocks with one simple deadbolt.
But then I step into the geek equivalent of Nirvana.
Down a few steps, there was a big half-circle bank of computers, with ample counter space and monitors. Beyond that, there were sever stacks – so many server stacks. As tall as the ceiling and as wide as the room (which wasn't small – it was about the size of the 'shop back in Malibu) and as far as I could see.
"Welcome," Dad says, his voice echoing in the eerily quiet room, "to the heart and soul of Jarvis."
I feel my jaw hit the floor. Jarvis was one of the most, if not the most, advanced AI in the world. He reached heights that humans couldn't comprehend. He was Skynet, except better.
And I was standing in his brain. Not a localized copy, not a backup, but the core.
"Ready to get to work?" Dad asks from my left.
I just grin, roll up my sleeves, and take a seat.
"Let's do this thing."
