If there was one thing Tony appreciated about the "Alcohol: none" stipulation, it was that he didn't wake up with a hangover. Several of the others weren't so lucky, if the expressions of pain and the clutching of coffee cups at breakfast were anything to go by.
Perhaps as a result, the morning passed quietly; no team workouts or practice, just each person passing the hours in whatever manner satisfied them. Except Natasha, who was elsewhere in the building doing those interviews. Tony momentarily wondered if he should go help, but dismissed the thought quickly. Natasha knew what she was about and likely could get a better idea of these people without him bumbling about in the background.
Instead, he and Rhodey messed around with suit designs in the workshop, debating the relative merits of the leg modifications until they had two possibilities that seemed equally plausible. "Friday, display the materials inventory for the Tower lab," Tony directed, then skimmed the list quickly. "Tell you what: we'll try both. Friday, begin fabrication of the prototypes."
"Estimated time to completion and arrival, two hours," Friday reported.
"Right. Let's talk firepower. The sky's the limit, now that we're starting from scratch."
Rhodey definitely had ideas on that front, and they spent the rest of the time before lunch making additions and alterations to the holographic representation of the new War Machine armor.
"This is gonna be good," Rhodey said with satisfaction, pushing himself away from the table while Tony made a few final tweaks before they went upstairs. "How's your armor coming?"
Tony caught up with him just before the door and gestured to ask if Rhodey wanted him to push the chair. Rhodey declined with a shake of his head. "It's in process," Tony said, walking alongside him down the hall. "I've been focusing on the monitoring system."
"Look, you know I know you're brilliant and everything, but do you really even need to worry about that? We've got your back."
"You do," Tony said, stepping into the elevator after him. "But I'm not so sure about the rest."
"Hold up," Rhodey said, rolling himself into the path of the closing elevator door and ignoring the dinging alarm that protested the obstruction. "What do you mean you're not sure? They're working their asses off to help cover for you, and you're not sure?"
Tony shrugged and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "They're doing that now. It's only been, what, two weeks? What happens in two months when I'm back in action? You really think they're going to keep this up long term?"
"Okay, this? This is me calling you on your bullshit. You've been talking a good talk down at the U.N. about rehabilitation and getting the team back together and now you're telling me you don't actually believe a word you've been saying. Either you think we can be a team again or you don't, but don't be saying one while believing the other. You need to put up or shut up, Tony."
"I have trust issues," Tony said lamely. "Can you move? That noise is ridiculous."
"Believe me, I know you have trust issues, and I know you're still dealing with the shit that happened," Rhodey said, not budging from the doorway. "But fake it 'til you make it or stop spouting the bullshit. You're not doing the team any favors by trusting them but not trusting them."
"Yeah, well, they approved me but didn't approve me, so it happens. Seriously, would you just move?"
Rhodey rolled back into the elevator, the door shut with an almost audible sound of relief, and the elevator rose smoothly. "Don't think this conversation is over, because it isn't."
"Tell me how you really feel," Tony said sarcastically.
Rhodey glared at him. The doors opened and he began to back out. "Give them a chance. They may surprise you."
"I don't know about that," he mumbled as he followed.
The conversation over lunch mostly concerned the timing of Clint and Laura's departure for their evening away. Tony pulled Clint aside afterward. "You've got transportation and all that? Money is no object, you know."
"I've got it covered," Clint assured him. "You do pay us, you know, and it's not like we get charged rent."
"I just wanted to check. It's important to keep the ladies happy."
"Yeah? Have you talked to Pepper since she left?"
"That's none of your business."
"I think I know how to make a relationship work better than you do, Stark, considering I'm married with three kids and you . . . aren't."
"That's a low blow, Barton." But he wasn't wrong, and Tony knew it. "We have the funds if you need them is all I'm saying."
"Yeah, yeah. We'll be fine."
Lila came to Tony's rescue, well-worn book in hand. His mind wasn't on the story despite the action coming to a head in those two chapters but Lila didn't seem to notice his preoccupation.
After she hugged him and climbed off his lap, he realized he should have waited and read to her later after her parents had left. Well, they'd find something to do, or one of the others would have a suggestion. Seven Avengers and three kids was pretty good odds.
Clint and Laura left the compound not long after Nathaniel got up from his nap and everything went smoothly at first. They took the kids outside to play for a while since the kids could keep themselves occupied fairly well that way. But, of course, since they had a gaggle of adults on hand, Cooper and Lila wanted to play games that involved more than just the two of them.
Rhodey, who couldn't run even with his legs on, and Tony, who Nathaniel had inexplicably attached himself to, were the amused audience as the others sat in a circle on the grass to play duck, duck, goose.
After a few rounds, Natasha suggested hide and seek so everyone could participate. Vision was always the hardest to find, since he could phase himself into objects; once Cooper realized that's what he was doing, he demanded repeated demonstrations using various objects because it was "the coolest thing ever." Lila, on the other hand, was unnerved by it and hid behind Auntie Nat, so Natasha offered to push her on the tire swing for a while.
That suggestion interested Cooper, too, but there was only one swing so Sam proposed a frisbee throwing contest to forestall an argument. Steve, Wanda and Vision joined in, as did Tony once Rhodey managed to distract Nathaniel from his death grip on Tony's pant leg.
They tried challenges of distance, accuracy, and style. Cooper was his father's son and nailed every target for the accuracy part. "We should put in a frisbee golf course," Tony said as Cooper ran after a rolling frisbee (Tony was not always good with the throwing technique). "We've got enough space for it."
"That could be fun," Sam said. "Just don't let Barton design any of the holes or it'll be impossible for those of us with average aim."
Dinner was pizza, ordered by Tony and picked up by Dr. Tanya, who joined them. Tony was quick to point out to anyone who asked-and even some who didn't-that having Doc T pick up the pizza was her idea.
Even Nathaniel had pizza, though he deconstructed his and mostly ate the cheese while the sauce-covered crust was deemed appropriate for the floor. Of course, it landed sauce side down. Wanda was the first to notice and clean it up. After the second time, she thought that maybe pizza wasn't the best idea for the baby and gave him a banana instead.
When Tony rose from the table and began clearing away some of the mess while the others finished eating, Nathaniel spotted him and waved his hands in his 'I'm done, pick me up' gesture. Tony knew enough to find the washcloth and clean his face and hands before releasing him from his booster seat. He set him on his feet on the floor, but Nathaniel continued to hold his arms up. Tony was already tired of schlepping the kid around so he ignored the gesture.
Nathaniel began to cry. Tony picked him up. Nathaniel settled down immediately and cuddled against Tony's chest, tucking his head beneath his chin.
Tony gave up on helping clean up at that point, since he wasn't as practiced as Laura or Clint at doing things one-handed without dropping kid or stuff or both. He sat on the sofa and tried to shift Nathaniel to sit on his lap, but the kid wouldn't budge from his spot against his chest without starting to cry.
Well, if he was going to have to hold Nathaniel like that, he may as well make it less awkward. Tony turned sideways so he could stretch out on the couch and have Nathaniel draped over his chest.
Nathaniel made a happy-sounding noise and clutched Tony's shirt, two fingers from his other hand shoved in his mouth. Tony wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so he rubbed Nathaniel's back.
The position was surprisingly comfortable and Tony could feel his restless sleep catching up to him now that he wasn't focused on something else. He would have to take Nathaniel to get changed and put in his bed eventually, but for right now, the kid was happy and that's all that mattered. He closed his eyes and sighed.
.
Tony slowly drifted back to consciousness, drawn by the voices of the others arguing good-naturedly over . . . something. He didn't really care what, but once he started hearing the conversation, his mind latched onto it and he woke up fully.
When he opened his eyes he remembered where he was and why, but Nathaniel wasn't atop him anymore. He sat up and saw Rhodey sitting nearby. "The kid in bed?"
"Yeah, he's good."
"You're not with the others?" He still hadn't figured out what they were doing; a glance over his shoulder found them around the table with some sort of game.
"Nah, world domination isn't my thing."
Tony checked his watch. He'd been out at least three hours and he felt like he could roll over and go right back to sleep. He yawned and pulled up his messages for a brief skim. "Oh, hey, the lawyers responded to our Accords revision."
"Yeah, that's what I've been reading," Rhodey said, lifting his tablet briefly. "Legalese is almost as bad as government documents."
"I've always thought it was worse." Tony laid back down on the couch on his side facing Rhodey. "Anything interesting?"
"They have some good suggestions for defining 'enhanced individuals', but it's still a really narrow line to try to draw."
"Yeah," he said, his eyes falling closed.
"Hey, why don't you just go to bed?"
"I'd have to move."
"If you're going to stay put, there's a blanket on the back of the couch."
He reached back for it without opening his eyes and tugged it haphazardly over himself. Yes, that was better.
He didn't wake up again until the early morning light grew brighter than he could sleep through; there was a reason his bedroom was on the north side of the building. He threw an arm over his eyes and tried to go back to sleep but the damage was done. He sat up and rose to his feet in one motion, letting the blanket fall haphazardly onto the cushions.
A wave of dizziness caught up with him halfway to the door and he had to stop moving until it passed. After that he made it to his bedroom without incident and fell onto his bed with a sigh. He got up again about two hours later, when his attempts to fall back to sleep had repeatedly proved unsuccessful.
He took his meds and contemplated throwing back some ibuprofen as well; spending the night on the couch had left him far more stiff and sore than he'd expected. Perhaps they ought to have a team chiropractor, too, or at least hire one to make a house call once a week. He made a note to look into that, then sent Pepper a good morning message while he was at it. Barton's barb about him not talking to Pepper had stung, and there was only one way to fix that.
He showered, shaved, and changed and was still back in the main room before most of the rest of the team. He made a beeline for the coffee.
"Morning," Sam greeted him.
Steve met Tony's look with a nod. "How was the couch?"
"Not my bed. I woke up feeling very old," Tony groused.
"If you're old, what does that make me?"
"An aberration. Chronologically you're ancient, but I don't think the years in the ice actually count, which makes you younger than me."
"Thanks, I think."
"You're welcome to see what your joints think of a night on the couch. I'm pretty sure you'd fare better than me."
"Tha has less to do with age and more to do with the serum. What do you want in your omelet?"
Tony had to peruse the options before he could answer that question. Once the omelet was safely in the pan, he asked, "What time did the Bartons get back?"
Sam shrugged. "Don't know, haven't seen them."
"They returned to the compound after midnight, but as far as I know they haven't been back to their quarters. Natasha and I took turns staying near the kids overnight," Steve said, scooping the omelet onto a plate and sliding the plate toward Tony. "Clint sent a message about wanting to sleep in for once."
"Sure. They're sleeping," Tony said, sharing a skeptical look with Sam. "Does Nat need help with getting the kids up?"
"Rhodey went to check on them," Sam said.
The door burst open and Lila and Cooper ran in with Rhodey trailing far behind them. "Uncle Tony!" Lila said excitedly. "Would you read to me now? We're almost done!"
"I think you need to eat breakfast first, honey," Tony said. "And we need to comb your hair."
She brushed her hair out of her face impatiently, completely ignoring the tangle at the back of her head. "No. Only Mama can do my hair."
"Hasn't Auntie Nat done it before?"
She had to think a minute. "Maybe," she conceded. "But not today."
"What if I helped you comb it?"
She eyed him calculatingly. "Okay," she said reluctantly. "After breakfast."
"It's a deal."
Lila wanted to sit next to him while she ate breakfast, and Cooper sat between him and Rhodey. They both ate quickly, then Lila led Tony over to one of the armchairs. Cooper followed.
"Are you going to listen today?" Tony asked. The boy usually read to himself.
"I like this part," Cooper said as he sat on the floor.
"Suit yourself," Tony said, settling himself in and opening the book. He took his time with the reading, but soon enough the story was over. It ended on a happy note, of course, and Tony wished life were so simple.
Then he remembered something. "Weren't we going to comb your hair?"
"Oh. I don't have my comb," Lila said, not sounding upset in the least.
Something tapped Tony on the shoulder. He looked up to see Natasha sliding a bright pink comb onto the arm of his chair. "Here's your weapon. Good luck," she said.
"All right Lila, sit still and I will do my best not to hurt you," he said. He gingerly began running the comb through the thick hair, hesitating when it met resistance, then continuing more boldly when Lila didn't make a sound of protest.
He worked at it slowly, and was nearly done when a voice behind him said, "You're lucky. She never sits that still for me."
"Daddy!" Lila said, turning her head abruptly. "Ow."
"Just a minute more," Tony promised, running the comb over the last strands of hair. "There. All done."
She scrambled down and ran to hug Clint, then Laura, who was talking to Natasha near the kitchen.
"Did you have a good night?" Tony asked as he stood up. He glanced at the comb still in his hand and handed it to Clint.
"Yeah, it was good," Clint said, but didn't elaborate.
Tony could hear Lila telling Laura that they'd finished the book. "Can we go to the library, Mama?"
Laura looked at Clint. "We'll see," she said. "We have others here you can pick from, too."
"I don't want one of those," Lila said. "And I want to see Miss Cathy."
"She may not work on Saturdays."
"Please, Mama," Lila said, giving Laura a pleading look.
"I said we'll see," Laura said firmly.
Lila pouted, crossing her arms across her chest and stomping one foot.
"That is not how we behave. We will not go to the library today, and if you don't improve your attitude, we won't go on Monday, either."
"But Mama-"
"Not another word about it. Go put your book away."
Lila sniffled but did as she was told. Tony was very glad he didn't have kids; he'd never be able to manage them. He'd end up taking his father's approach of keeping the kid at arm's length and letting someone else handle it.
Clint and Laura herded the kids out of the room (to do what, he wasn't sure), leaving him alone. Again. He checked on the others' whereabouts with Friday; they were all busily doing the work he should have been doing or were just plain busy. Even Dr. Tanya, not that he would've actually gone and talked to her. Well, maybe. He was going to have to just go and do it sometime, because trying to plan for it would give him ample time to think of reasons not to.
Doubts about his usefulness, his place on this team, even his health-he was still so fucking tired despite the coffee coursing through his veins and that really wasn't normal-weighed heavily on him. He supposed he could go work on his armor, but what was the point when he couldn't wear it for at least a month, and that was assuming his recovery period wasn't going to be extended again. His other project, well, he was questioning everything he had done so far.
He felt purposeless, pointless, stuck.
"Stuck, feeling a little stuck? Like a little turtle, cooking in his turtle suit?"
He hadn't thought about that for a long time, but now the memory flashed before his eyes like it had been recreated in holograms. He shook his head and focused on the room around him, which was fortunately still empty.
Stuck. The arc reactor damaged, flight systems non operational, his helmet trashed, an ache in his chest that may or may not be physical.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and jolted him from the memory. Good morning, Tony. You were up early, everything all right?
Mostly. Fell asleep on the couch, not comfy. You have anything big on today?
While he waited for her response, he finally moved, heading anywhere but the common areas. He needed to not be where the others could stumble across him while he was in this funk.
His feet led him first to the office which, while not even close to the first place someone would be looking for him, also lacked any feeling of safety. This was where he had been besieged by demands for his time, his knowledge, his input. Just looking at the desk reminded him of the calls from Ross, the blinking light as he kept Ross on hold as long as possible without making the Secretary snap and do something he wouldn't like.
So he went to his bedroom, that sanctuary that had, not so long ago, also held a Pepper. He kicked off his shoes, pulled the duvet off the bed, and curled up on the floor on the far side of the bed.
No, nothing big today. I'm almost finished playing catch-up. Did you need something?
No, I just wanted to say hi.
His phone remained stoically silent after that, so he set it on the floor and stared blankly at the wall.
At some point he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he was aware of was being startled awake, his heart pounding, by someone knocking. He untangled himself from the duvet, snagged his phone from the floor, and stumbled to the door. "What?" he demanded without opening it. There were only a few people he would allow to see him in his current rumpled state.
"I am here to summon you to lunch," Rhodey said.
"Oh, it's you," Tony said, opening the door a crack. "Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be down."
"I can wait. I have my own chair and everything."
Tony left the door open and headed for the bathroom to throw some water on his face and straighten his clothes.
Rhodey wheeled in and watched. "After lunch, can we test those prototypes? We never got back to that yesterday."
"You read my mind," Tony said with forced cheerfulness. He'd completely forgotten about that.
He hoped the others had gone ahead with lunch without them and they could slip in unnoticed so he didn't have to deal with anyone else. He wasn't in the mood. The former turned out to be true but no such luck on the latter-Sam waved them over to two empty places at the main table and Tony wasn't even left to sit down in peace.
"Tony, we need your opinion," Steve said as soon as he saw him. "Ross wants us to do a mission near a possible HYDRA satellite location. It doesn't seem like he knows about the HYDRA ties, but we could clean that up while we're there. Do we go?"
He blinked as he tried to process both the question and the fact that he was being asked the question. "Back up a second," he said finally. "What's the mission? No, first things first: has the U.N. given approval? I've been holding him off until now by insisting on a U.N. go-ahead for his harebrained schemes."
"The U.N. panel is awaiting our recommendation before rendering a decision," Steve said. "It sounds like they'll heed our yes or no."
"The mission is at the behest of the Joint Terrorism Task Force, so Ross is asking that we accept it," Natasha elaborated. "The Task Force has intelligence that there is a band of enhanced individuals hiding in the mountains in a region neighboring Sokovia."
"Does the intelligence check out? What have they done to merit being hunted down?" Tony asked with interest.
"The intelligence is vague," Natasha said with a frown. "It could be something. It could be nothing. There's no way to tell without more information or going over there."
"And you know as well as we do that the possibility of their existence is enough to make them a target," Steve said unhappily.
"So you don't want to do it," Tony said, nodding. "Where does HYDRA come in?"
"A recently decrypted file indicates that there has been a HYDRA satellite base within a few kilometers of the alleged enhanced individuals," Vision replied.
Steve continued. "If HYDRA is in the area, it's possible they got some tech from Strucker before we took him down, in which case the enhanced-"
"Might just be HYDRA and everyone would be happy if we make them disappear," Sam finished.
"Right," Tony said absently. "Do we have time to get better intelligence before giving our answer?"
"They want the mission completed by Monday," Natasha said flatly.
"What? Why?"
"The intelligence indicates these people are planning some sort of terrorist action for Tuesday," Steve said.
"So the intelligence that doesn't really even know what these people are also claims they're planning something for Tuesday," Tony repeated in disbelief. "Why are they taking this seriously?"
"Because the supposed target is New York," Natasha said wearily. "Specifically, the U.N."
"And yet the U.N. panel is letting us decide if we're going to pursue this? That seems fishy," Rhodey said.
"That's what we thought," Steve agreed.
"Because it's a trap," Tony said slowly, the realization dawning in all its hideous glory. "If we decline the mission for lack of good intelligence and something happens in New York on Tuesday, we'll take the fall. If we go and there's nothing there, we prove our judgement can't be trusted and our efforts to have Avenger representation on the panel will be shot to hell."
"What if we don't go and nothing happens?" Wanda asked.
"Something will happen, even if Ross has to plant a bomb himself," he replied and pushed his plate away. He'd lost what little appetite he'd had. Sometimes he wondered if life would be simpler if he'd never agreed to work with that conniving snake.
"But this HYDRA thing," Sam said. "Isn't that an ace up our sleeve? We agree to go, we take out an enemy Ross didn't know was there, and we come out the good guys."
"Only if HYDRA is or was in the area," Steve replied. "We can't know for sure based on one document."
No one spoke for several minutes. Tony pulled out his phone and typed in a few commands. "I'm having Friday check for anything else using the location names from the document we have. It will take some time, but it seems like our best hope for corroborating our own intelligence."
"How quickly could that produce results?" Steve asked.
Tony shrugged. "It could be an hour, it could be three days."
"So what do we think? Should we go for it if Friday finds any additional information?" Steve addressed the group.
"That seems the only way we have to save face," Natasha said sourly. "Unless we can prove their 'intelligence' was manufactured."
"Is it possible to do that?" Steve asked.
"It can be possible, but it's unlikely to happen in the amount of time we have."
"Would you try? We'll provide any help we can."
"I can try. Clint can help."
Clint gave a thumbs up.
"If there's anything on the tech side you need, just ask Friday," Tony added.
"In the meantime, everyone check your gear," Steve instructed. "We may need it."
That was the signal for them to rise and scatter. Rhodey turned to Tony. "Let's go finalize my suit. Could it be finished in time for the mission?"
Tony hesitated. "Maybe? Depends on how you like the prototypes. But I'm not sure it's a good idea to send you out in a completely untested suit."
Rhodey scoffed. "Since when are you the cautious type? Come on."
Tony followed him out of the room. "Since I watched you fall out of the sky," he said quietly. Only Friday heard him.