movieholic: thanks! sorry if your snorting/lol'ing was embarrassing or anything haha, completely non-intentional :)
Stark's Heart: yay pepper and tony! :) yeahh, hopefully harry won't have to go through much more of this
Elwyndra: thanks! :) sorry for the wicked long wait, though :( i'm blaming college 100 percent...and my lack of time management skills
a/n: "there's more written, though, so the next chapter should be out in like, 2 days max :)" i'm a horrible person, that 2 days max thing was nowhere near true :/ FAIL. sorry guys :( but i guess the good news is that this story is done! the rest of the chapters are written and ready to go! but once again, i fail, and i'm really sorry to keep you guys waiting for an obnoxiously long time. i just figured that it would be better to finish it all with a longer wait instead of one chapter at a time. i don't know. i hope you guys don't hate me, or the rest of the story!
It only takes a few minutes for me to realize that I really wish I stayed up all night so that Tony couldn't sneak off like this. He pays me to watch his ass, and I don't do it. I'm getting paid to watch Tony Stark's ass—take that any way you'd like—and I can't. Even. Keep. Track. Of. Him. For. Two. Hours.
I don't even know what I'm going to say to Rhodey when he gets here. I don't think he and Perry like each other at all; he's not going to be happy to hear that Tony's off saving Harry with Perry instead of himself.
"Ms. Potts, Colonel Rhodes has arrived on the premises," JARVIS informs me. My body flinches as the tinny British voice hits the open air, but I'm composed in a matter of seconds and rush outside to meet Rhodey.
"Pepper, how is everything?" Rhodey asks as I shove myself into his arms. "What's going on?"
"Tony's back," I mutter into his shoulder, bracing myself for any type of reaction.
"What? He's back? When?"
"Earlier today. Late last night. This morning. I don't really know."
"Where is he?" Rhodey grins. "Why isn't that son of a bitch out here, too? He must have some kind of plan up his sleeve."
"You could say that," I tell him softly.
"Well? What is it, Pep?"
Better to say everything quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. "Harry didn't come back with him, so he and Perry went to go save him."
Rhodey's arms turn into spaghetti as his hug dissolves into nothing. He takes a step back and looks hard at me.
"Why didn't he ask me?"
"I'm sure it was nothing personal, Rhodey," I assure him hurriedly, "Harry and Perry are extremely close, and—"
"Yeah, gay Perry," Rhodey interrupts under his breath.
"Don't be an asshole, Rhodey." My jaw drops right after I say this, and Rhodey's eyes widen. "I—I mean, come on, Jim, it was uncalled for."
He pauses, then nods slowly. "Go on."
"I mean, Perry's a private detective—"
"I'm a colonel."
"Damn it, could you just let me finish a sentence?"
Rhodey raises both hands in the air. "Fine, fine, go. Sorry."
"Perry is more involved in this case now than you are. Tony was who you wanted back; Harry is who Perry wants back. If Harry's still missing, but Tony's safe, wouldn't it make sense for Perry to go with Tony instead of you?" I feel like I'm explaining this to a five-year-old.
"I still could've helped."
"No offense, Jim, but I don't think they had time to call you. I mean, the reason I had JARVIS tell you to come here was because they left while I was asleep."
"Tony didn't even tell you about it?"
Yeah, it was pretty shocking to me, too. "I'm guessing that was only because of my…reaction…when he came back."
Rhodey smirks. "What'd you do, Pepper?"
"Nothing that concerns you," I snap.
He rolls his eyes. "I'll just call Tony, then."
"Y'know, the reason I asked you to come here was so that you could help me, I don't know, maybe stay with me, just so that I don't go crazy waiting for him to get back. But I mean, if you're going to be a dick about it…JARVIS is always here."
He sighs. "Only because you called me a dick. I don't even think I've ever heard you say that unless it's been someone's name."
"You learn something new every day."
"I guess so." He pauses, then decides to apologize again.
"It's fine."
"It's not fine; I can tell when you're pissed off. It's the same tone you use when you're talking to Tony most of the time." He grins at me and I roll my eyes. "So what else are we doing here?"
I pause, then sit back down on the couch. "I…kind of just wanted some company. I'm getting nervous again, nervous that he's not going to come back."
Rhodey's face softens immediately and he sits next to me. "Pepper, he's a professional. He knows what he's doing, and he'll be able to handle himself."
"He couldn't handle himself when he first got in this stupid mess. He couldn't handle himself when he was kidnapped. He's like a child, Rhodey; everybody knows that."
"He couldn't handle himself because he was drugged. He couldn't handle himself because he was ambushed. Trust me, Pepper, when he's got the upper hand, Tony's the best there is. And, if it makes you feel any better, just, just think of Perry as a really good babysitter."
Wow. He actually got me to laugh. I take his hand and look at him. "Thanks, Rhodey."
He nods slowly, then looks around. "It's kind of depressing, just sitting around wondering whether or not Tony's getting his ass kicked. Let's do something. Let's play UNO."
Tony Stark has no fucking sense of direction; let me tell you. I think he was drinking before he decided to try and save Harry with me, because he's flying all over the place, and I've almost hit three cars already. He better not be trying to lose me, or I swear to God, I'll fuck him up. He thinks I won't—I will.
Honestly, the son of a bitch doesn't even stop when I have to wait at a red light. A little common courtesy, please.
My phone starts vibrating in the cup holder next to me. After one glance, I grab it and answer.
"Perry Van Shrike."
"Hey, Perry, it's me."
I roll my eyes. How the fuck Tony got my number is beyond me. "Can I help you?"
"Almost there, pal. Just an itinerary."
"How the hell do you even know where this place is? How can you remember it?"
"How can you not trust me?" Tony's voice echoes off the metal encasing him, and I feel like I'm talking to someone in outer space. "Out of the two of us, I'm the only one who's even been to the fucking place; I'd say my opinion takes superiority over yours, right? I think so. Your opinion can take superiority over mine when…well, when we need it to."
"You were probably drugged the whole way there, and disoriented the whole way back."
He doesn't answer right away, and I know I'm right. Score one for Perry.
"I know enough. You'll be thanking me once we get Harry back."
"Remind me to send you one of those singing Hallmark cards."
"Do that and I shoot you."
I laugh. "You're not gonna fucking shoot me. You don't even have a gun."
"I'm a weapons manufacturer, dipshit. What the hell do you think my house is full of?"
"I didn't see any there."
"You just weren't looking in the right spot."
"I—fuck!" Something crashes to the ground two feet in front of my car, and I'm inches from hitting the fucking thing. I swerve and tap a light pole. Just a tap, thank God.
"Well, excuse me," Tony mutters.
"That wasn't to you, for once, asshole," I tell him. "Something just fell in front of my fucking car. A meteor or something."
Tony laughs. "A fucking meteor fell in front of your car?"
"Do I need to fucking repeat it for you?" All of a sudden I feel my car tilt forward slightly, and when I glance out the windshield, I see Tony in his goddamn suit, leaning on my goddamn fucking car, the mask up, with that stupid little smirk on his face.
"I guess that 'fuck' was for me, huh?"
I roll down the window and poke my head out. "Jesus, Tony, what the hell was that for? Not everybody has seven cars waiting in a workshop in their fucking basements."
"We're here, babycakes."
I get out of my car and walk over to Tony. "Are we? Lead the way, then, superhero." Tony turns and starts walking toward wherever the hell we're supposed to be going when I grab him by the elbow and force him around fast.
"And if you ever fucking call me that again, I'll make sure your death is slow and painful."
Tony smirks and closes his helmet, then continues walking.
"We're in the middle of fuckin' nowhere," I tell Tony as we walk.
"What were you expecting—an apartment in the middle of the city? With neighbors? Even better: with a neighbor who's a cop?"
"We could've driven further; you didn't have to jump in front of my damn car," I grumble, and for a second, I sound like Harry. I've gotta stop that before it gets out of hand.
"It'll look to suspicious if we just drive up there with an unauthorized car, idiot. Is this your first rodeo or what?"
"I'm one of the best P.I.'s in Los Angeles, pal." I let that sink in before changing the subject. "Did you even think about how the fuck we're gonna get Harry back to the car if it's parked all the way over here?"
"Did you even notice the fact that I can do this?" Tony engages something in his suit and immediately bursts into the air above us, hovering with his arms folded across his chest.
"Fuck you, why the hell aren't you carrying me there, then? Why are we wasting time walking when we could be there right now?" I snap my fingers.
"Oh, yeah, right, because that's not suspicious or anything," he mutters. "You really don't work well under pressure, huh, Van Shrike?"
"I'm seriously about to punch you in the face right now."
He taps the side of his helmet. "That's the beauty of this thing."
I can't waste any more words right now. I'm not going to admit it to Tony—and you're not going to, either, trust me—but I'm fucking scared. I don't want to see shit that's not ideal. If Harry's not wrapped up in a pretty little bow, ready to go, then I don't want to fucking see him. If his brains are busted out of his head, then I don't want to see him. If he hasn't changed at all, except for the expected cuts and bruises, then of course I'll fucking see him, but if he's shot at like he was during Christmas time, well then that's just depressing, honestly.
"What's our plan here?" Tony's voice jerks me out of my thoughts, and I stare at him.
"Plan? Uh, forgive me here, I guess, but I thought you were in charge of the plans, since you're the superhero and everything."
"I've got enough to worry about," he answers. "I've got ideas, but no set plans. Now what d'you have?"
"Besides breaking in and getting Harry the fuck out of there? Nothing, really."
Tony pauses. "Well, specifics on how we do that would be preferable, nice, even."
"We walk in there, blast the fuckin' guards or whoever the fuck is in there to kingdom come with your lasers and shit, grab Harry, and run."
"That ruins all the fun," Tony whines.
"What the fuck did you want to do?"
"Oh, I don't know. I mean, it might be nice to actually make them pay instead of just blasting their asses away." Tony shrugs. "But that's just me."
I scoff. "You're the one in the suit; be my guest if you want to make them pay, but I'm kind of not a fan of that. Especially since I…don't have one."
"Just protect yourself with your sarcasm; that's what you usually do."
"Fuck off."
"Seriously, what're we gonna do?"
"We're gonna find a way in there and we're gonna save Harry's goddamn ass."
"No specifics?"
"You're the superhero."
"Superheroes have assistants sometimes, jerk-off."
I sigh. "Look. We can leave them alive if you want, and you can finish them off—or whatever the fuck your plan is—later. Right now, I just want Harry's ass out of there. I know the guy; he can't survive in prison, and there's not a shot in hell that he'll survive in there much longer. So can your fucking Irish robot find us a way in? Now, preferably?"
"He's British," Tony answers, but I can tell I made him soften a little. He spent a few days with Harry; he knows that it's not easy for you to forget a kid like him. Even if you want to hate the guy, it's tough.
I'm obviously speaking from experience here.
"Fine," Tony finishes. He waves one iron-clad hand in front of him. "It's right there."
I have to admit: the walk really wasn't as far as it looked.
"You don't want me to fly you there, do you?" Tony smirks from behind his mask.
"Shut up." I roll my eyes. "Any idea of a sneak entrance or anything?"
Tony nods slowly. "Yeah, I think I could find something."
I swallow hard—holy shit—and my stomach starts to do little back flips. That blue Christmas light can only mean one thing…but I don't want to think it out loud, or tell you guys, even though you know. I don't want to jinx this when it's so close, you know? I don't think he's in the exact room yet, but Perry might be: he's more camouflaged, unless he got an orange arc reactor or something installed.
Come on, now, it could've happened. I've been gone for a while. Hell, Perry could be straight by now.
I don't notice it at first, but when my eyes eventually wander back up to Brett, I realize that he's not looking at me, waiting for me to come back up for air. He's got his attention on something behind me, maybe out the window? There's definitely a window behind me; I remember that much. I decide to train my eyes back down to the duct tape pinning my ankles together and begin to wonder if I'm physically capable of bending down far enough to start chewing the fucking stuff off. It's a fifty-fifty, in my opinion, but maybe I'm just being generous. As I bend down a teeny bit more, just a tad, my handcuffs—yes, they're mine now; I've been in the fucking things long enough for me to be able to keep them as a souvenir—jangle against each other softly. I don't really think anything of this—it's too soft for Brett to hear—until I feel his hand grab the back of my shirt and jerk me upright. He does this so fast that my neck snaps back and before I can let it fall forward again, he slaps another piece of duct tape across my mouth.
I stare at him, and he's just grinning away like some asshole. Ha, it's so funny. Fucking hysterical. It should be on goddamn Comedy Central.
"You're not gonna give us away now, right?" Brett asks, walking behind me and crouching down. "Because if you give us away, I'll do what I've been waiting to do for a long time." I can feel the metal of a gun tap against my temple, then he squats down behind me and doesn't move.
I wonder if Brett can see Tony's arc reactor, but I doubt it, based on the fact that he's not doing anything. He's not fucking Tony up, but at the same time, I'm not out of this chair and on the way home yet, either.
It's pretty unsettling.
"Why the hell isn't anybody here?" Perry whispers. "Why aren't we fighting off goddamn kidnappers right now?"
"Why the hell are you complaining about this?" I ask, peeking behind a corner. JARVIS did a hell of a job oiling this thing up so that it doesn't creak anymore; thank God.
"Because it's fucking creepy," Perry insists. "Are you really this out of pop culture, Stark? If nobody's here, trying to stop us, then they already know we're here. We're making this too fucking easy for them. Don't be an idiot."
"We'll be fine."
"That's easy for you to say. You're the one with the fucking suit of armor."
"I offered you one, didn't I?"
"No, asshole."
"Could've sworn I did."
"Stop speaking; keep moving."
As we walk, trying to find even the tiniest sign of inhabitance, I start to think a little too much about Perry's words. We probably should've come across somebody by now, right? I'd think so, but then again, it's like, three in the morning, and they probably take shifts.
Fuck that, there were at least ten guards on duty 24/7 in the Middle East; I don't know what I'm thinking. Maybe there are surveillance cameras around, at least. That'd make me feel a little more at home.
"Hey!" Perry hisses, crouching down near a room with two windows looking into the hall where we are. "Get your ass over here. And stay low, especially with your blinking lights shit."
I get down on my knees next to Perry and look into the room, realizing right away why it's so important to Perry—his assistant is right there. Right fucking there.
And no one's around.
"I'm gonna risk it," Perry breathes. "Cover me." He loads a tiny little handgun that I really don't think could do any damage at all if called upon, and makes his move.
He sneaks toward Harry, who's sitting almost too perfectly in the corner. His eyes are wide and he's trying to yell something, but the duct tape over his mouth is proving to be a problem. Every time he yells, it's pretty much impossible for anyone to decipher anything of substance in his words. I'm not sure if he sees Perry or just me, but either way, I suddenly want to get the hell out of here.
"JARVIS," I mutter, "gimme a body heat scan in this room and all surrounding ones."
"…I've detected five bodies, sir."
"Five? In the whole place?" I tense up as Perry finally reaches Harry.
"In this room, sir."
"Shit," I breathe. "Perry!" I hiss, tempted to throw something at him to get his attention. "Hey, st—"
"Get the fuck b—" Perry's just ripped the tape off Harry's mouth, and he's onto the same thing I am—Perry's the only oblivious son of a bitch here. Within a matter of seconds, I learned three things:
1. Perry was right: we should've been more cautious. We made it too easy for them,
2. Harry goes limp, and will be pretty much useless for fifteen minutes, thanks to my stupid invention—the exact same one Stane used on me, and
3. I'm a fucking idiot.
"Tony…Tony, I know you're here. I heard you." I recognize that voice instantly: Brett. Again. "Why don't you come out, ya little prick? Your friends won't be going anywhere, though, so no rush. We can be here alllll fucking night. Hell, I'll even order some fucking donuts if it takes that long."
I pause and peek out again from where Perry and I originally staked out. Just think about it, idiot. It's just like the situation in Yinsen's hometown. Use the micro rockets to target the enemy in the situation, shoot them down—fucking Brett—have Perry grab Harry and drag his ass out of there, then we fly off, meet Pepper for breakfast, and live happy ever fucking after—
This would be ideal, if anything in the suit were working.
"JARVIS," I breathe. I can see Perry staring at me, wondering why that fucker next to him isn't already dead, but he's not yelling at me; I don't think he wants to give away that I'm here. How courteous.
"It appears that your defense mechanisms are dysfunctional, sir."
I'm almost on my knees, that's how hard and fast my stomach dropped.
"What the hell do you mean, my—"
"Why the fuck aren't I dead yet, Stark?" Brett demands. "Oh, that's right. Maybe because we're a hell of a lot smarter than you thought we were."
"It appears that some type of shield has been installed in the room, disarming your suit, sir."
I make a mental note to change up JARVIS' responses a little, then resume panicking.
"Didn't I program you to make it be…armed?" I falter, trying to figure out some type of plan B.
"You did, sir, but they've installed some form of technology that has the ability to disable your suit."
"Hack it," I hiss.
"Impressed yet, Tony?" Brett sneers. "Damien was pretty good with computers in high school."
Fuck—Damien did this? I glance at Harry and know for a fact that if he had control of his body, he'd be just as stunned as I am.
"I can't find any way to hack into the system, sir. They've appeared to lock down every possible option I can find."
I swallow hard, trying to pretend this doesn't faze me. "Keep looking," I breathe.
"Damien's our little computer geek, Tony. He's like you, but stupider. He was on the waiting list for MIT, though; I'll give him that much."
As if I give a fuck. Maybe if I can buy…ten more minutes, then Harry could help. Yeah, idiot, if Harry could magically get out of those handcuffs. Right.
Oh, my God, I'm actually considering help from Harry.
A bullet clicks into place and breaks the silence, and Perry gets at least three shades paler. "I'm not afraid to shoot this fucker in the head, Stark. You can avoid having his life on your conscience, though; you could save him. But you won't. I know you won't. 'Tony Stark too selfish to save his friend; is captured again, anyway.' I can see the headlines now."
"Any time now, Tony," Perry mutters.
"Shut up, asshole," Brett snaps, keeping his eyes on me. He's not actually looking at me, though, which is more comforting than it might sound; JARVIS might not be able to hack their system just yet, but he can still dim the arc reactor. It's a trick we've been working on for a while, and we finally got it to work. Impressed? I was.
"Just give up, Tony. You can't win this. Whatever you try, it's not gonna work, okay? We've thought of it all. Every single fucking thing."
"Sir," JARVIS says suddenly, "might I suggest—"
"Already on it," I interrupt, hoping that we're thinking of the same thing. I get to my feet and take a few steps back. JARVIS doesn't protest, so I continue. When I glance back into the room, I can hear Brett laughing and Perry's jaw drops, a signature "what-the-fuck" look on his face.
"You're fucked, Van Shrike, that's it. How does it feel? To know that someone you thought was your friend betrayed you? That he doesn't give a damn about you?" Brett asks, shoving Perry down into a chair next to Harry. "I've gotta say, I really didn't think you'd run, Stark, but hey, learn something new every day, I guess."
I take a few more steps back until I'm out of the room. Brett's still laughing, but once he realizes where I am—once he can actually see me one hundred percent—his smile fades.
"Fuck," he mutters. "Damien!" he yells. "Change the fucking room settings before Ch—"
His hands slowly rise in the air as Perry points a particularly tiny gun at his head.
"That's not exactly what I was thinking of, sir," JARVIS tells me.
"Uh, me neither." Perry smirks at me while he forces Brett into the chair he was just in.
"That took you too fucking long, Tony."
"I had it all planned out!" I insist, taking a step toward Brett, who would probably strangle me right now if it weren't for the gun threatening to blow his brains out. "I was gonna walk out of the room, so then all my shit would be enabled again, and—"
"Behind you," Perry mutters, wrapping duct tape that he found on the floor around Brett's wrists.
"What? Oh, shit." Damien's behind me, but I turn and fire a tranquilizer dart into his chest. He's too slow to dodge the thing—I'm not even sure he realized I fired it—and collapses. I can hear Brett mutter something about his precious MIT wait-lister being a fuck-up, and I'm not gonna lie; it made me happy.
"Get me that thing he used on Harry."
"What thing?"
"The thing that fuckin' made him like that!" Perry snaps, jerking his head at Harry, who's just now beginning to regain body movement.
"Oh, right." After a few seconds, I manage to find the device Perry's talking about and decide to do the honors myself.
"Goddamnfuckyou," Brett spits before he freezes, too. I should probably choose a better word than "freeze," since that makes me feel like the Iceman or something like that. It's too late for that now, though; we're already into the next paragraph.
"Why the fuck did you wait so long?" Harry gasps, rotating his jaw as Perry helps him to his feet.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me see what you do when some asshole's figured out how to make your armor malfunction. Let's just see that, okay?"
"Is this really it?" Perry asks.
Harry and I stare at him. "What?"
"There were only two guys guarding you, and you two couldn't figure out some little fucking scheme to escape? From those two dipshits?" He points at Damien's crumpled body sprawled across the floor, then at Brett, who acts devious and glares at us.
"Of course it wasn't just the two of them," I snap.
"Where the fuck are the rest of them, then?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want us…want us to go…looking for them?" Harry falters, still trying to regain full movement of his body.
"Sir," JARVIS interrupts, "I'd suggest that you, Mr. Lockhart, and Mr. Van Shrike make your way to the nearest exit before there are any more unexpected visitors and/or room shields and call the proper authorities from Mr. Van Shrike's car. Better yet, call them once you're all back home. I'm sure Ms. Potts is worried sick for you. All three of you."
"Uno! In your face, Jim! I'm about to beat you again!" Pepper says, taking another quick sip of her wine. This distraction plan worked almost too well, much better than I thought it would. It's making me even more nervous, though, knowing that Pepper and I have been playing Uno for two hours with no word from Tony or Perry. I consider calling Tony's cell phone, but if he's in the middle of something, he'd probably never speak to me again.
So I don't.