The sun was shining into the house a long, long time later. Thankfully, the coffee machine hadn't been destroyed by last night's combat, so I sat on a pile of concrete, rebar, and drywall that I'd managed to shove out of the kitchen and into the living room while I sipped my morning dose of caffeine. Gone was my nice outfit of the night before, comfortably attired in sweatpants and fresh sports bra. I saw that the lines of poisoning – I figured – were starting to trace their way up my neck, and I decided my best course of action for now was to ignore them. I had a few days at least before it all caught up with me.
The physical exertion had gotten some of my negative energy out, though I strained my healing hand fairly badly when shoving some rubble out of the gym, so I had it wrapped tightly in gauze and athletic tape. My hair, which needed a cut soon, was tied back into an effective ponytail that hid how squashed and rumpled the black tangles were. I sighed as I slurped at my mug, glad that I was mostly back to myself after that emotional roller coaster of Tony's birthday party. What a nightmare.
"Miss Andy?"
"Mornin', Jarvis; hope Mina got you back and ordered properly?" I greeted the house's main AI as I finished off my coffee and set my mug aside before starting back for the gym. "Don't need me to make sure your codes weren't overridden anywhere by some drunk floozy?"
"Not at all, but thank you for the offer," Jarvis replied, and I could definitely make out the note of relief in his voice. "If you are not otherwise engaged, Mister Stark has requested he see you. Soon."
"How soon are we talking?" I asked, pausing from rinsing out my emptied coffee mug in the ruined waterfall. Jarvis paused for a moment, as if checking with Tony. So he was awake, then.
"I do believe he insists upon this very moment," Jarvis finally answered, and I sighed as I set my mug aside, sitting down on the stairs leading up. If I went down there and found the monster that was pretending to be Tony, I didn't know what I would do. But if it was Tony…
"All right," I eventually surrendered, "I'm coming down there."
I rubbed my hands over my face before I got to my feet and headed down into the garage, pausing at the door to glance inside. Dummy was already near the sofa, obviously delivering Tony something to help him up and at it, and, just for a few seconds, I just wanted to stand there, staring inside, never going in and facing Tony. Maybe it was out of spite, or out of self-preservation, but the feeling passed before I pressed my fingertips against Mina's new coded screen, and she read my scan before unlocking the door. I pushed it open, and, within a few moments, Tony was sitting up and looking at me almost helplessly.
"Andy…I'm so sorry," he began, voice shaking. "What happened…God, you're right, I'm a jerk, and I was even doing it to you….I have to be the most awful big brother there ever was, I don't know how you'd ever forgive me…"
It went on for a bit, with my hands stuffed into the pockets of my sweatpants and my gaze aimed directly at the floor. Never before had I ever heard Tony apologize before, not to me, not to anyone. Usually, other people apologized for him, so I don't know why I wasn't able to at least acknowledge it. Maybe because, in a way, I had Tony back. I knew my Tony would apologize – or try to – so that he could make things up to me. Soon, though, Tony was on his feet, and he managed to walk over towards me and gently grasp my forearms.
"Look, if you wanna move out, I don't blame you," Tony sighed, "or if you never wanted to see my sorry face again. But…I hope you don't. I'll make it better. I swear."
"I'm not going to leave," I answered, barely managing to keep my voice steady. "And...'m sorry for me and Rhodes beating you up last night."
"I deserved it," Tony grumbled in reply.
"Well, I shouldn't have thrown the triple."
"…probably not…you might've blown out the reactor, doing that…"
"Yeah, I did," I admitted, tapping at my reactor a little. "Back to the old reliable. It's lucky, though. I beat Stane with this reactor."
"Maybe…maybe it'll hold a little longer."
"It'd damn well better. Otherwise I'm back to mark zero."
Tony processed that for a moment before his grip on my arms tightened a little. He knew I meant the car battery, and I wrapped my arms around him to hug tightly. I didn't care that this might end up being Tony's last day on the whole earth, but I did care that he went down as himself, not the spoiled jerkwad I'd knocked out last night. Tony hugged back, kissing the top of my head firmly before he rested his cheek there, rubbing my back.
"Don't go crazy again," I breathed quietly once I felt the tears starting to come down again. Tony squeezed me a little tighter at that.
"I don't want to."
"You'd better not. 'Cause…'cause that wasn't my brother. I didn't like whoever that was."
"I didn't like him, either," Tony murmured, rocking me a little, just holding me close. I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers holding tight to the back of his shirt. Eventually, he kissed my head again, and I glanced up at him so I could rub my eyes.
"I'm gonna do better," Tony informed me. "I promise."
"Good. And don't take any drugs or whatever it was you were on yesterday."
Tony's face blanched, just for a moment. Oh, great.
"Erm…Dummy already brought me one…?"
The robot in question hooted disagreeably, and I managed to give poor Dummy a small smile. I didn't blame him/it for it, but I did toss Tony a warning look.
"Then don't take anymore," I informed him firmly. "I'd rather have my brother full speed without drugs than low speed with."
Tony nodded and gave me another hug. I immediately thought of the comment Mina would have made: and this is why you don't mix martinis, champagne, and anti-depressants. I decided not to voice it, though, and instead mussed at Tony's hair before pecking his forehead.
"Y'know, I never thought I'd ever be coming to your rescue, well, ever…"
"At least you didn't leave me to it."
"…I promised," I admitted to him. "I promised you I'd never leave, after Stane nearly killed you."
"You did?" Tony asked, looking at me in surprise. I managed a half-smirk and nodded, and he grinned at me. "See, this's why you're the best sister in the world."
"Then let the best sister in the world inform you we better get the house cleaned up," I warned him, "or Pepper won't come to visit ever again." I could recall the look of terror on her face, when Mina had flashed her location at me last night. She hadn't like last night's Tony, either.
"Oh, no, Pepper," Tony groaned, obviously realizing just how far this mess was reaching. "She quit, didn't she? She always quits whenever I screw up, it's like this constant cycle of divorce and re-marriage with us…I mean, I can always hire her again, but…oh…"
"Yeah, oh," I added in the blank space. "She's not your assistant anymore, genius. Though I don't think she's taking to her new job."
"Then she'd better get used to it," Tony sighed, massaging his forehead. Ah, so he wasn't as immune to hangover-headaches as he'd been acting. "Now, just gimme something to do before I lose it again."
"How about core replacement?" I asked quietly. "Maybe us and Vanko were on the right track, but the only outstanding problem is palladium."
"Yeah, get me a screwdriver….get right on it…"
I had to swallow back a few giggles before helping a suddenly-unsteady Tony back to the sofa as Mina's likely comment came into my head again, and I helped him lay back down and propped up by a stack of squishy pillows.
"You sleep off the hangover, and I'll get a head start, how's that for ya?"
"Okay….just don't take all the credit…otherwise I'm gonna be jealous…"
Tony's statement faded into an incoherent mumble as he fell asleep, and I gave his hair one last tousle before I settled at his desk. I didn't dare think about how high up his palladium scars were, and I rubbed uncomfortably at the back of my neck before I checked my own reading via Jarvis. Just overnight, my readings had shot into the high seventies. Well, if Tony ended up dying today, I wouldn't survive much longer than him. I pushed away the morbid thoughts and had Jarvis get to projecting possibilities through the periodic table – avoiding the stuff that was totally unlikely to work, like the noble gases and hydrogen – and I settled in as my playlist came on quietly over the speakers, keeping to quieter songs for Tony's sake.
At least, until Jarvis announced that we had a certain unwelcome visitor breaching the perimeter. I cursed to myself as I straightened up, pleading quietly that he wouldn't make it through the security like last time, but, as if by magic, Director Nick Fury of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division (more commonly known as SHIELD) came striding down the ramp into the garage. He was in the exact same outfit he'd been in the first time we'd met him six months ago in his first attempt to recruit me and Tony for his Avenger Initiative. It hadn't worked well, and I had no desire of ever seeing Fury again.
"Long time, no see, Fury," I commented dryly by way of greeting. "If this's about the boys' club you're building, I'm still not interested."
"Even if you're invited?" Fury asked with a small grin, and I replied with a glare. He noticed I wasn't in a mood for pleasantries, and instead glanced around to find Tony. If I could've gone like I had last night on anybody else at the moment, it would've been on Fury as he whistled sharply when he got a look at Tony. "And what happened to him?"
"Over-celebrated his birthday in a bad way last night," I answered coolly, "so I had to smack sense into him, and now he's recovering. Not to mention I don't care if I'm invited. Now, niceties aside, what the hell do you want?"
"You two, getting back to rights," Fury persisted as he glanced over Tony, then looking at me. No, I still didn't have the decency to get a shirt on, so my own "tattoo" was very visible. "You're sure he's not dead?"
Tony answered for me by groaning pitifully and rolling over to cram a pillow around his head. I hid a smirk and kept my gaze cold and level at Fury.
"It's the usual hangover head pain," I griped. "He's fine. Now answer the question, Fury, before I set my AI attack dog on you."
"You two've gotta reputation to uphold," Fury began after he decided to leave Tony alone for now. "Maybe you didn't see today's paper?"
He wandered up to the desk and extricated the morning edition of the LA Times for me to see, smacking it down within easy view. Right there on the front page was a picture of Tony partying last night, with a few inset pictures of the wringer Rhodey and I had put him through to get him to stop. I frowned slightly as I took in the – no pun intended – stark headline of Tony Stark at Rock Bottom? – Late Night Party Becomes Brutal Reality Check. I kept my gaze on the paper as Fury added, "They don't like it when their poster children have problems."
"Well, that's Tony," I noted dryly. "Besides, he's recovering from his worst hangover in recent history, and I'm having to manage the task of finding a replacement for the palladium cores before either of us die."
"Now, last I'd heard," Fury replied, putting on a falsely-conversational tone, "your brother tried just about everything."
"Aha! That's the key; just about. So either there's one he hasn't tried, or there's something else out there."
I'll be damned if Fury didn't come that close to giving me a smile.
"Clever."
"Comes from reading Doyle obsessively; you end up learning stuff. So, obviously, all's in order."
"Not unless you know where you're looking."
I leveled Fury a long look, frowning slightly. Oh, great. He was trying his hand at bribery: here's the key that'll save you, now you guys owe me. Lovely. I wasn't surprised as a couple of SHIELD suits came in, toting a large gray case that they set in front of the desk. I levered myself up to look over the box, and I frowned at the sight of three words and one initial that had the capability of ruining the rest of my life.
Property of H. Stark.
"…huh," was all I could get myself to say. Remember what I said earlier about me re-developing my intense dislike of my father? Well, it was kicking in at full power as I leaned back, and Fury fixed his gaze on me.
"You don't have to worry; it's not going to blow up in your face," he remarked, entirely deadpan. It would've been funny if it'd been someone other than Fury saying it.
"I already have the remains of one explosion in my chest, thank you," I retorted sharply, but I refused to get a closer look at the box. Dad's box. Fury pursed his lips a little before he started heading back the way he'd come.
"You're gonna have to look sometime," he noted as he suddenly made a detour towards Tony. "After all, someone's gotta make reactors."
"Hey, what the hell you think –"
"In a second," Fury retorted sharply as he removed something from his coat and swiftly pressed it into Tony's neck. Tony himself sat up, swearing violently, rubbing at his neck before fixing a glare on Fury.
"What'd you stick him with?" I asked sharply, especially as I watched most of Tony's scarring vanish. Oh, that would be useful…
"Lithium dioxide," Fury replied, and I frowned immediately; the liar. You couldn't stick two oxygen atoms to one lithium atom, and it wouldn't be called lithium dioxide in any case. "It's gonna take the edge off."
"And make me wanna beat the crap out of you, Fury," Tony retorted, actually sounding more alive than I'd heard him for awhile. "How'd you get into my house? Again?"
"I'm putting Mina on outside security duty next time," I grumbled. Tony nodded in agreement, and it was with that reception that Nick Fury left us the box with Dad's name on it, taking his suits with him while I installed Mina onto running much, much tighter security for the perimeter so nobody could bother us. Tony rubbed at his neck, muttering curses after Fury as he sat up, then got to his feet to get something to drink. That was about when he noticed the box.
"Since when does Fury bring me birthday presents?" he asked aloud before he spotted the label. Once he did, he amended, "Never mind."
"Something about stuff in there helping us solve the reactor issue," I informed him without looking at the box. "Personally, I don't trust anything of Dad's, so if you're looking, go ahead."
"Suit yourself," Tony replied, and I heard him undo the latches before lifting the box's lid. I watched Jarvis continue running the possibilities – there were a lot – before I heard Tony make some sort of curious noise as he poked around in the box. That finally piqued my curiosity, and I slid down from the desk to look inside with him.
"What is it?" I asked as I started looking over what I could immediately see: newspaper clippings, film reels, notebooks, and a rolled-up blueprint. I started reaching for the blueprint and noticed with a faint chill the typed names of Anton Vanko and Howard Stark; so this was a print of the original reactor that I'd overloaded six months ago. Oh, that was nice.
"Like a giant time capsule or something," Tony noted as he pulled out the clippings, both of which were dated in the Sixties, just before Tony was born. One declared that a Soviet physicist had defected to the United States; the other proclaimed the same physicist had been deported to Russia. I knew it was Anton Vanko without even looking, and I took up the notebooks while Tony picked out the film cases.
The contents of the first notebook I flipped open was meticulously filled with data and equations and drawings. I paused as I flicked through, and glanced at the reactor blueprint. Hello.
"It's…it's everything needed to build an arc-reactor," I breathed as I closed the notebook, and Tony glanced at me, brows furrowed.
"What, like Dad knew we'd need it?"
"Creepy."
"No kidding. Useful, though."
He grabbed up his own notebook to pore over, while I pulled out the film cases. I didn't see any titles until I got to the one at the bottom of the small stack. This was a few years younger than the others, and, in Dad's semi-legible scrawl read Andrea. I stared at it for awhile before tossing it back inside the box and getting to my feet. I knew there was a projector around here somewhere…
When I did find that heavy projector, I dragged it somewhere we could watch, and Tony even set aside the notebook he was looking at so he could watch with me, though I'd swear I saw him looking at a film case out of the box earlier. I carefully popped open one of the first cases and strung on the film, while Tony managed to get a projector screen erected and in place. Soon, we were settled into a couple of chairs to watch what was stored here for us to see.
It started with Dad, and as he stood and started speaking to the camera, I realized this was the welcoming movie that had been filmed for the '74 Expo. And when he stopped to search for a word, I realized these were failed attempts, candid moments. None of them made me feel any different about Dad; if anything, he was acting a little like Tony, with the drinking, with the attempts to crack bad jokes. It got me uncomfortable. But at one point, where Dad was standing near the Expo model, I saw, to my eternal delight, a tiny, three-year-old girl, hair in a ponytail as she reached out to grab a piece of the model.
"I remember this," I breathed as I watched the girl – me – manage to lift one of the pavilion models off the surface. "I was bored, hiding on the set…and I tried to make him laugh…"
"Worked for me," Tony noted with an audible grin, but my own faint smile vanished as my memory proved true. Dad turned to the younger version of me and snapped at me to put the model back. I watched myself do so, large dark eyes wide with shame before one of the techs picked me up and carried me offstage.
"There's the Dad I knew," I breathed faintly, ears in my eyes. I was glad I'd gotten rid of his letter now. He'd just written it to decide to be fair, not to make me feel better. Tony actually got up and made me scoot over in my chair so he could sit next to me and hug me tight. That felt nice, and I was more than happy to sit there in Tony's arms until I heard Dad's recorded voice say his name. Of course I felt useless as usual as he talked about the company, how he'd built it for Tony…and the hardest blow came at the very end.
When he declared Tony to be his greatest creation.
The reel ended with a rattling sound, and I got out of the chair, starting to head for the desk to grab a few notes I'd taken earlier. Tony turned to look at me, but I didn't look back as I fought down the pain and anger that had always eaten at me.
"Looks like he's all set for you to solve this," I spat carefully, "just like usual."
"That wasn't the last reel," Tony added, and I knew he meant the one with my name on it. I turned to look at him, and I saw that he was looking at me with almost an equal amount of shock and pain; he hadn't wanted to be Dad's chosen one. The thing was, he always had been.
"I don't plan on watching the other one," I retorted. I knew what would be on the other reel: more pain, more putdowns and ignoring. Nothing like what Dad had left for Tony to see and know. I started for the door upstairs, and Tony's voice called out one more time.
"Can I, then?"
"Whatever," I replied before pushing the door open and heading upstairs to my room. When I crashed into my chair, the tears finally came, and I put my head in my hands. He wanted Tony to be his superstar. Like always. Fine. I could live with that. Maybe I could go ahead and resign from my nominal co-CEO-ship, return all the money Dad had supposedly left for me. He obviously hadn't wanted to really give any of it to me. It was all for Tony.
When my eyes finally dried, I checked my toxicity reading.
Eighty-eight percent. And rising still.