Happy Father's Day to any potential Fathers out there, and if you're not a father, just think of it this way: Only five more months until Not a Father's Day rolls around!

Tuesday, August 10th, 2010

It was a normal Tuesday morning in Los Angeles. The sun was shining, the plants were dying because the sun was shining for the ninety-seventh day in a row, and most every adult between the ages of twenty-one and sixty-five were beginning to start their workdays. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That was, unless they thought to check in their backyards.

Annabeth Story was going about her morning routine. She had breakfast, showered, took her dog out for a walk around the neighborhood, and went out to her backyard to water the small tomato plant she had hanging from a metal hook along the back fence. It was the last thing she needed to do before heading off to work. She made it halfway across the yard before something blue and shiny on the back fence caught her attention. Putting her watering can down, she walked over and inspected it.

As she got closer, she realized that the top of the fence was covered in what looked like a dark greyish stone that had translucent blue to white appearance around the edges. Being a geologist, that sparked her interest. She reached out and touched the stone, finding it to be smooth with some rough edges. Suspecting what it might be, she looked at the way it reflected the sunlight and breathed on it to see how fast the fog cleared away.

"Holy smokes!" she exclaimed once she came to the realization that she had a real, rough sapphire stone attached to her back fence.

Tony didn't make it a habit to sleep late. In fact, often he ended up being awake into some ungodly hour of the morning and force himself to stay that way until he got whatever he needed to do done and take a nap whenever the opportunity arose. It probably wasn't the healthiest way to live, but he still always managed to finish everything he needed to and managed to at least sneak an hour or two of sleep in there. If it was enough to keep him functional, Tony wasn't going to worry about it.

It was rare for him to fall asleep at such an early hour of the evening, and even rarer to wake up at such a late hour of the morning. When he did awaken, it was to a tarp haphazardly thrown over him, a smoothie waiting on the table for him, a colossal mess in the kitchen from the making of said smoothie, the perpetrator of said mess standing by for approval (he'd give DUM-E a B- for effort), and that he had exactly twenty-two minutes to shower, get dressed, and get across town before the board meeting started. Impossible odds, but Tony figured he could make it if he rushed through the shower and ignored all the speed limits set forth by the State of California Highway Department.

He managed to get showered and dressed in record time and probably would have managed to at least get on the highway before the meeting started if he hadn't almost tripped over his new personal assistant on the way out the door. To be fair, she probably shouldn't have been sitting with her back against the front door, but she still got mad anyway.

"Ow!" She rubbed the back of her blonde head as she got up off the ground. She shut her laptop as she glared at Tony. "What the hell? That hurt!"

"Why were you sitting in front of the door?" Tony asked as he struggled to remember her name. He could remember that her last name was Conroy, but her first name was eluding him. "And what are you doing here? I thought I told you to meet me in my office."

"I did," she said. "You never showed up. Miss Potts told me I'd most likely find you at home, in your basement, working, so I came here but the bouncer wouldn't let me in." She gestured at the ceiling and the walls as she said the word "bouncer."

"It's just JARVIS; an AI," Tony quickly corrected before moving on to the more pressing issue. "Did Pepper say anything else before you left?"

"Just that you better not be late for this board meeting, which is in…" Conroy glanced at her wristwatch and made a sound like that of a seal being eaten alive by a walrus. "Eight minutes, if the time is correct on this thing for once." Tony sure hoped it wasn't. He walked past Conroy and town towards his car. That's when he noticed the lack of strange vehicles in his driveway.

"How did you get here?" he had to ask as he opened the driver's side door of the car.

"I took a cab," she shrugged. "I'm not supposed to drive or operate machinery until I know how Lotensin affects me. Which is a real shame given I've just gotten my license to operate forklifts, tanks, and small aircraft."

"Good to hear," Tony said. "Get in." Conroy's eyes were wide as she looked from Tony to the car, and back to Tony again. Clearly, she was trying to calculate the vehicle's total worth in her mind.

"Are you sure?" She was trying and failing to resist the urge to smile.

"Yes," Tony said. "Come on, we'll be late. Get in." Conroy nodded and moved as quickly as she could while wearing high heels and juggling a laptop and a Starbucks cup in her hands.

In conclusion, Iron Man is absolutely recommended for the Avengers Initiative and world prove essential in completing its goals. However, Tony Stark is not recommended at this time.

Those were the two most conflicting statements in the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. file on Anthony Edward Stark. How could someone be both approved and rejected at the same time? It was like someone who only reads things they've already read. It didn't make sense. However, those kinds of inconsistencies seemed to be abundant in almost all the files Steve had read so far. At least in Tony's files there weren't entire paragraphs blacked out by long, thin bars. The only section that seemed to be tampered with was one line in brackets that read "redacted at the request of Mr. Stark." As far as Steve could tell, that was the only thing that had been edited out, so it led him to wonder what was so bad that Tony would request S.H.I.E.L.D. to remove it from their files on him.

However, the things that concerned him the most were the outright contradictions contained within the files. The report written by an agent named Natasha Romanoff painted Tony as a self-obsessed narcissist who only fought for himself, but that description was in direct contrast to his actions as Iron Man. After all, it was unlikely that someone as self-centered as Tony supposedly was would want or even care enough to do things like fly halfway around the world to save some random village in Afghanistan or stop a psychopath from killing around six-thousand civilians gathered in an exposition center with weaponized drones and a hacked suit of armor. (Steve didn't fully understand what had happened there, but that wasn't the point.) The two images didn't match up in his head and he was having trouble figuring out which version was the real one.

So, sighing, Steve decided that he had enough catching up for one morning and set the files aside. He got up, stretched out a bit, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers over the cover of the compass for a quick second before reaching under his pillow to retrieve the scrap of paper Tony had given him before.

555-310-2187

As soon as he saw the number, Steve was confused. It was way too long and didn't have any letters in it. There was no way it could be valid. He had only used a phone a handful of times in his life, but he at least knew that much. It also didn't help that he hadn't seen a single phone since Tony left the other day. So, even if it was a valid number, he wouldn't be able to call Tony and let him know he was alright.

I'm sure he's fine, Steve thought. He probably thinks I couldn't do something as complicated as making a phone call. He'll understand.

Being Buried Alive

Going to Jail for Life

Sudden Onset of Mutism

Quadro-Paralysis

Kidnapping

Torture

Dehydration

Starvation

Heart Attack

Poisoning

These were only the first ten entries on Tony's list of horrible things that could happen to someone that would keep them from calling you. Normally Tony wouldn't be worried about something as silly as a phone call, but he just wanted to know that Steve was okay. He knew none of these options were even likely. He wasn't teasing Steve when he said that the super soldier probably didn't know how to work a phone. However, writing all of this down did ease his fears a little bit. Plus, it was serving as a good distraction from the thorough chewing out he was getting from the members of the board, so that served as a nice bonus.

Alright, so the board meeting wasn't going well. Ever since it started the board was blaming him for driving stocks down with the botched Good Morning America interview and the robbery while he and Pepper tried to explain that both events were completely out of his control. However, when the ship is sinking the first person you obviously blame is the captain. Tony wasn't CEO anymore, but he still held controlling interest in the company. So, in the eyes of the board members, he was the one to blame. However, the only problem with that logic was that this wasn't at all a ship-sinking emergency. It only made sense when you considered that any dip in stock prices was the equivalent of the Hindenburg disaster in the eyes of the board members. So, Tony wasn't surprised.

Even though he was distracting himself from the meeting, he was still listening. Albeit, vaguely, but still listening. He was paying attention enough to know that Pepper had just restated the same point for the sixth time in the past half-hour and was growing frustrated. Tony knew he was going to have to jump into the conversation in a moment, but for right now he was just content to escape from all the stress for a minute and continue writing the list on the memo pad of his phone. It had taken a turn for the silly as he came up with increasingly ridiculous reasons why someone would be unable to pick up a phone.

Stabbed in the Eye by a Professional Fencer

Dramatic Irony

Toilet Electrocution

Death by Molasses

Falling Out of a Poorly-Installed Window

Segway Cliff Accident

Death by Orgasm

Crushed by a Taco Bell Sign

Struck by Lightning

Sucked Out of an Airplane

"…Can't sit here and tell me that this was an honest mistake. The interview, I can believe, but Stark has yet to explain how someone can get past his 'state-of-the-art' security systems and an entire staff of trained security guards without anyone noticing. Hell, they even managed to get access to our security codes…"

"Wait, what?" Tony looked up and scanned the room for the person who had just spoken. "What's this about security codes?"

"The chem labs were unlocked using one of our security codes," said the board member in question. His name was Hector Fair and he was an obese man with slicked-back white hair. "Didn't you know that?" The man's tone conveyed that he already knew the answer.

"This is the first I'm hearing of it," Tony said.

"Me too." Pepper was the one who said that, so Tony felt reassured that this wasn't something that was brought up earlier in the meeting that he just happened to miss when he wasn't paying attention. "How did you get that information, Mr. Fair?"

"I have my sources," Fair said.

Eavesdropping was Tony's initial thought. Probably got his stick figure of a secretary to do it.

"Regardless of how Mr. Fair obtained the information," the man sitting across from Fair – Harold Schaffer – said. "This is a serious threat to the company. If the thief has the building's security codes, who knows what they could do next!"

"Precautions regarding the integrity of the building are currently underway," Pepper said. "All the codes are being changed and all systems are being upgraded to prevent something like this from happening again.

"It shouldn't have happened in the first place," Schaffer argued. "How can we trust that it won't happen again?"

"I have to agree with Mr. Schaffer," the man to the right of Schaffer – Marvin Weinstein – said. "After all, who knows who this mysterious thief was and where they got the access codes. For all we know, it could have been an employee."

"Or Stark's 'un-hackable' system isn't as impervious as he claims, and some Anonymous yahoo released all our security codes and passwords onto the internet." Tony could taste metal in his mouth from how hard he was biting down on his tongue. He probably would have been able to resist the urge to shoot back, if the man didn't have to add "it wouldn't surprise me." That little bit of salt in the wound was enough to arise a response from Tony. Luckily, he managed to keep his cool just enough to avoid going too far.

"The system is fine," Tony said. "Working flawlessly, in fact. The first thing I did yesterday after talking to the police was checking to make sure that no one had hacked into our systems. I personally double-checked every single system, file, and entry point for any sign we had been hacked and had JARVIS scan the whole system from top to bottom just to be safe. I didn't find anything; zip, zilch, nothing, no nada. I specifically designed my systems so that way if they were somehow hacked, then we'd have enough crumbs to lead us back to whoever stole the cookie jar. It's impossible for any hacker not to leave a trace through my systems. Even I wouldn't be able to do it. So, I feel confident in saying that we haven't been hacked. Besides, I think there would have been more than a few chemicals stolen from our lab if it was a data breach of that level. Don't you agree?"

"Yes," Schaffer said. "I agree. However, you don't honestly expect me to believe that hubris alone is enough to prevent the worst from happening. It didn't work out for the Titanic, and it's certainly not going to work for the security of this company."

"Do you even know what you're talking about Schaffer?" Tony asked. "Because it just seemed like your lips were moving but no sound was coming out."

"What I'm saying, Mr. Stark, is that it's entirely possible that there was a data breach like the one you described, and you were unable to detect it." Tony's gaze became increasingly harder with every word that Schaffer spoke. "I mean, your whole system relies upon the idea that idea that no one can outsmart the great Anthony Stark…"

"Mr. Schaffer," Pepper tried to cut in, but Schaffer ignored her.

"…When it's been proven in the past that it can be done. Didn't some guy make his own version of your armor – technology you said yourself was twenty years away from being copied, let alone outmatched – and tried to kill you in Monaco a few months ago?" Tony clenched his fists under the table.

"I don't see how this is relevant to the conversation at hand." Pepper's attempt to get Schaffer to shut up was once again ignored.

"And wasn't Stane selling the weapons you designed to terrorist groups for years without you noticing?" Tony was a split second away from saying or doing something he'd regret when Pepper finally broke through.

"Schaffer, enough!" Pepper's voice reverberated off the walls. The board members turned their attention to her while Tony kept his gaze firmly on Schaffer. "None of this relevant to anything we are talking about. It's just a poorly veiled attempt to attack Mr. Stark. If you do not want to be ejected from this meeting immediately, I suggest you keep your opinion of Mr. Stark to yourself and keep all comments relevant to the topic at hand. Understood?" Tony shot the other man a challenging look.

Go ahead. Try it. I dare you. Tony watched as Schaffer swallowed and sank back down into his chair.

"Yes, ma'am," was all he said.

"Good," Pepper said in a lighter tone. "Now, back to business."

By the time the meeting adjourned, Tony's list had grown to include one-hundred fifty entries. At this point, Steve failing to call him should have been the very last thing on his mind, but Tony couldn't stop feeling it eat away at him. The worry was unfounded, but it still existed nonetheless, and Tony didn't have time to allow it to consume. He had bigger fish to fry.

The rest of the meeting went about as well as one would expect. They argued the same points over and over, barely anything of significance was said, and eventually, they had to call it a day without having gotten anything done. So, an average Tuesday. However, Tony was able to glean a few small tidbits of information about the police investigation thanks to the big mouths of the board members. Not only was Fair keeping tabs on what the cops were doing, but two other board members – Lucille Hinson and Elisha Jameson – were as well. From Hinson, he learned that the police believed the robbery happened sometime between noon and four PM on Saturday, and from Jameson, he had learned that one of the locks indeed had been opened with a passcode, but a second lock had been smashed until the door came open. That gave him a timeframe and an idea of what to be looking for since he and Pepper hadn't been allowed to see the crime scene. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

To his left, Pepper was gathering all her things and getting herself organized to leave while to his right, Conroy was intently focused on her laptop, trying to get her own notes copied and saved for the next day. Tony sat with his head in his hands, desperately trying to remember what it felt like to be healthy. Unfortunately, he couldn't really remember that far back. Eventually, Conroy shut her laptop and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"I know I shouldn't complain about my first day," she said. "But that was basically a witch-hunt on steroids. Seriously, I've seen nuclear deals made more peacefully than that."

"You better get used to it," Pepper said as she stood up and shouldered her bag. "It might not seem like it right now, but trust me, it can get much worse."

"Yeah," Tony said. "Maybe next time they'll remember to bring the pitchforks and torches."

"Don't forget about the stone press," Conroy remarked. "No witch hunt is complete without a good peine forte et dure."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment," Tony pointed out.

"But it seems they think you're deserving of it," Conroy said. "I mean, I know the robbery was a huge screw-up – and just referring to it as a 'screw-up' is an understatement in and of itself – but from the way the kept going at you, you'd think they were convinced that you poisoned the water supply, burned their crops, and set a plague unto their houses."

"I might as well have," Tony said. "I thought I had practically everything-proofed the building. Apparently, I left a blind spot somewhere."

"Regardless, all we can do now is damage control and taking preventative steps," Pepper said. "Looking for a single person to blame is just juvenile and a waste of time."

"Agreed," Conroy said. "But it seems that irrationality is an unavoidable curse in the world of upper-management – no offense."

"None took." Pepper walked over to get a closer look at Tony. "You feeling okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," Tony said, his voice hoarse. "Much better than yesterday."

"You sure?" Pepper had one eyebrow raised, clearly not buying it.

"I'm not dying," he assured. "I feel great. Haven't even coughed since yesterday."

"Alright," Pepper relented, though she still sounded concerned. Despite that, there was nothing she could do other than take his word for it. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"See you later," Tony reciprocated as Pepper left the room. At the same time, Conroy shut her laptop.

"Another thing I probably shouldn't ask on my first day," she said. "But I can go home now, right?" Tony nodded in the affirmative. Conroy then began to gather all her things and stuff them into her laptop case. "Good, because I really don't want to find out what happens in my neighborhood after dark." Tony didn't want to find out either, so he let the conversation die there. Conroy eventually got all her things together and headed out the door. "See you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder as she left.

Tony put his head down on the table. He just wanted to fall asleep right then and there. However, Tony knew that it wasn't a good idea to fall asleep at work. He'd done it before and it didn't work out too well. Plus, Pepper would probably drag him to a hospital if she found him passed out at the conference table the next morning.

Just as he resolved to get up and go home so he could finally get some sleep, the familiar opening notes of a certain AC/DC song started to emanate from his cell phone. Upon checking the caller ID, Tony smiled when he saw it was an unknown caller with a number longer than the value of pi. He was still grinning when he accepted the call.

It was only eight o'clock at night, but Steve was at a loss for what to do. He was wide awake and couldn't focus on reading the files anymore. He would go and do something else, but apparently, he was only allowed to be on this floor. The door to the stairs was locked and every time he tried to go down in the elevator, it just stayed in place with the doors wide open. He also hadn't seen a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent all day. He supposed they were trying to give him space to adjust, but Steve was finding it more frustrating than helpful.

So, for what felt like the eightieth time that day, Steve got up and started wandering the halls. He had been told that this floor acted as a pseudo-hotel for people connected with S.H.I.E.L.D. and its investigations. Currently, though, he had the entire floor to himself. It would have been nice, but Steve was starting to get a touch of cabin fever. He was desperate to at least see another person. So, when he spotted a young S.H.I.E.L.D. agent stepping off the elevator, he was mentally jumping for joy.

"Captain Rogers," the man said. "I was just coming to check up on you. Agent Wylie. I work with Dr. Fox." He held out his hand to shake. Steve took it but remained wary. Tony's warnings about patient rights and blood tests ringing clearly in his ears. "So, how are you feeling?" the agent asked. "Notice anything unusual?"

"No," Steve said. "I feel fine."

"You aren't experiencing any muscle weakness?" Wylie asked. "You haven't suddenly passed out and stopped breathing?"

"No," Steve said. "Can that happen?"

"It's a possible complication of severe hypothermia," Wylie explained. "I wouldn't worry about it too much." Steve nodded, but was still concerned. "But no other symptoms, right? No dizziness, lightheadedness, vertigo, cardiac arrest, confusion, none of that?"

"No." Although that list of symptoms was concerning, Steve did hone in on one of them. "Wait, confusion? What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing too concerning," Wylie said. "Just a general feeling of delirium; not being sure of where you are and what's happening around you.

So, how I've felt every second since I've woken up, Steve thought.

Well, not every second. Steve shoved that thought directly into the deepest, darkest pit of his mind. That was the last thing he needed to think about right now. There were more important things, like convincing this S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that there's nothing medically wrong with him so that way they won't have the opportunity to come up with some excuse to draw his blood.

"No," Steve said. "Haven't been feeling sick at all." It was the truth. He wasn't feeling physically sick. Just… Confused, not only about the whole situation but his feelings, his sanity… Everything had changed in a split-second and Steve was having trouble processing it all. However, Wylie seemed to accept his answer and didn't press any further.

"Good to know," he said. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything I could get you?" Before Steve could stop himself, he replied.

"Actually, yes. Do you know where I can use a phone?" A look of confusion overtook the agent's face.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "There's a phone in the office next to the elevator. Why do you need it? Who do you want to call?"

"Tony Stark." Wylie looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Tony Stark," he said. "The Tony Stark. Iron Man. That Tony Stark."

"Yeah. He gave me his phone number when I met him the other day and told me to call him." Steve was fingering the slip of paper in his pants pocket as he said that.

"Did he say why?" Wylie asked.

Because he's afraid you're going to drain all my blood to get at the serum.

"Not sure," Steve supplied instead. "He didn't say." Wylie just looked more concerned.

"Uh, listen," he said. "I don't know if you know this already, but Stark's kind of…" His mouth froze mid-sentence and stayed that way for a full thirty seconds before making a face that one would make upon being force-fed a slug. "You know what, it's not my place. Never mind. I'll unlock the office for you, so you can make your call."

Steve wondered briefly what that was about but decided to just brush it off for now. Instead, he followed Wylie to the office and listened as the other man explained how to make a call. Apparently, now you had to dial the number yourself instead of waiting for the operator to connect the call. Also, for some reason you had to dial the number nine first before dialing the rest of the number to get the call out of the building. Other than that, it didn't sound as complicated as he was expecting. He thanked the agent for his assistance and waited for the other man to step out of the room to sit down and make the call.

Dialing the number, Steve tried to swallow down his anxiety. Why was he doing this? Why was he so nervous? What was he going to say to Tony when he picked up the phone? All these questions and more were buzzing through Steve's mind at such a fast pace, he didn't even hear the phone ringing as the call connected and almost missed the sound of the phone clicking as Tony picked up on the other end.

"Hello," he heard the man on the other end of the line say. Steve could feel his chest clench. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"Hello?" Steve was able to keep the unsure tone out of his voice. "Is this Tony Stark?" Steve's heart sank as it occurred to him that he had no idea what to say if this was someone who wasn't Tony. Thankfully, it didn't come to that.

"Speaking." Tony's voice sounded much more rough and tired than Steve remembered. However, he felt reassured by how his tone went up as soon as he heard Steve's voice. Almost as if he was smiling. "Is this Steve Rogers?"

"Yes." Steve could feel himself starting to smile as well. "I was just calling to let you know I'm alright."

"Good to hear," Tony said. "You remembered what I said the other day, right?"

"Yes," Steve said.

"Have they tried?"

"No."

"Good." Tony sounded genuinely relieved to hear that. "Sorry. When you didn't call, I thought they might have done something." Steve felt a pang of guilt was over him.

"No, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't have access to a phone until a few minutes ago."

"Don't worry," Tony said. "I understand. So, what's been going on since I saw you last."

"Not much," Steve admitted. "S.H.I.E.L.D. moved me into my own apartment. I have the entire floor to myself."

"That sounds nice," Tony said.

"It would be," Steve said. "If I was allowed to leave this floor."

"You're not allowed to leave?" Tony questioned.

"Or go outside," Steve said. "I mean, I get it. They want to give me space to adjust and since I'm supposed to be dead, it's probably not a good idea to go outside, but it's still driving me crazy."

"Well," Tony said. "That simply won't do."

"What are you suggesting?" Steve kept his voice neutral, but he had to admit he was liking where this was going.

"What do you think of a prison break?" Both anxiety and anticipation began to course through Steve's veins.

"Sounds risky," Steve said. "I don't think I'd be able to get off of this floor without being seen."

"I didn't mean an actual prison break," Tony said. "I don't even want to imagine what S.H.I.E.L.D. would do to me if I tried that." Steve could hear Tony audibly shudder. No, I was thinking more along the lines of convincing S.H.I.E.L.D. to let me take you out for a little while."

"Seriously," Steve said. "You think they'd let you?"

"No, not at all," Tony said. "But it's worth a shot, and if it doesn't work out we can figure out a way to Shashank you out of there."

"What?" Steve said.

"It's a movie," Tony sounded slightly apologetic. "It came out after you were frozen. It's about a guy escaping from prison."

"Oh." He guessed that made sense.

"So, what do you say?" Steve could feel his smile returning.

"Alright," he said. "Sounds like a… Plan."

Well, if this is actually getting uploaded, that means I'm still alive and no one came to murder me for the language I used in that last chapter. I'm sorry about that. I spend way too much time on Tumblr and I was afraid that the language police might come after me for using the r-word (and maybe the q-word. I'm still confused as to whether or not that's okay to say.)

Anyways, if you like this chapter be sure to leave a comment or a review!

Remember kids, stay off of Tumblr. It'll ruin your life.

Originally published to FFN on 6/17/18