AN: Thanks to krikanalo, Qweb, and Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl for reviewing the last chapter. In case Hammer's reasoning was unclear, he had been trying for over a year to steal the same information, and Scott inadvertently got in his way every single time (kidnapping Liz to use as leverage, bugging the security computers, sending in a thief). Finally, Hammer decided to get back at Scott and get the info at the same time by blackmailing him into doing the dirty work for him. As we've seen, it didn't exactly work out for him!
Scott let out a resigned breath as he swiped his Stark Industries access card at the front gate. He had just returned to Los Angeles an hour earlier by sneaking onto another commercial flight; he hadn't thought that the Ant-Man suit would exactly make it through airport security! Since it was almost 2:30 in the afternoon, Cassie was still in school for another half-hour, so he couldn't go and see her yet. And anyways, he needed to run an errand before saying goodbye to her.
Scott parked on the far side of the Stark Industries parking lot, climbed out of the car, and pulled a nondescript black duffel bag out of the back seat. He pushed his sunglasses up on his nose, looked around the parking lot, and finally crossed it, making a beeline directly toward the main office building. As soon as he reached the door, it slid open automatically, and without a moment's hesitation he immediately turned left to walk down the hallway to Dr. Pym's office.
When he arrived outside the doctor's office, the knot in his stomach clenched even tighter when he realized that Dr. Pym was sitting at his desk. He nearly turned to walk out and come back later, but the doctor looked up from his computer at that exact moment and saw him standing there. Dr. Pym motioned seriously for Scott to enter, and Scott slowly pulled the door open and stepped through.
Scott didn't say anything for a moment until the door clicked shut behind him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dr. Pym cut him off.
"Pull down the blinds, Mr. Lang." The command was stated matter-of-factly, without any obvious emotion behind it, making it hard for Scott to determine what the Doctor could be thinking.
Scott turned to look at the door, and noticed what seemed to be a new set of venetian blinds installed on the inside of the door to cover the window. He pulled on the string to lower the blinds, and twisted the dowel to twist them shut.
He turned around to see that Dr. Pym had similarly drawn the blinds shut on the outside windows. "I had these installed after you caught me changing last month; I don't want anyone else catching me with my pants down!" Scott thought he finally detected a trace of humor in the doctor's tone, but it did nothing to relieve the tightness in his chest.
"Sir—Dr. Pym—"
"Sit down, son," Dr. Pym interrupted him, indicating one of the chairs in front of his desk. Scott hesitantly took a seat in one of them. The doctor opened his mouth to speak again, but Scott, finally finding his nerve, cut him off and didn't let him speak.
"Dr. Pym," he began, speaking hurriedly, "I know I shouldn't have taken your suit like I did, especially without asking you first. It's just—I was backed into a corner. I had to save my daughter. I didn't know what else to do; my only option was to steal from the company or borrow your suit, and I did not want to steal from the company I work for—not again. Anyways, here's your suit back. I'm sorry for stealing it." Scott set the duffel bag down on the desk between himself and Dr. Pym, and looked down to inspect his shoes and the thick red carpeting below them.
Dr. Pym didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, Scott looked up from the floor to see Dr. Pym sitting at his desk chair and watching him critically.
"Sir?" Scott asked.
"Why did you do it, Mr. Lang?" Dr. Pym asked simply.
"My daughter," Scott answered slowly. "She has leukemia. We've tried everything, but nothing has worked for her." Scott explained that he had come to work for Stark Industries primarily to give Cassie access to better doctors, in the hope that one of them would be able to find a cure for her. "I found the doctor who could cure her, but the doctor disappeared before we could set up an appointment with her."
Scott continued, explaining the phone call he had received instructing him to steal a piece of data from Stark Industries in exchange for the doctor's freedom. "They knew about my criminal record, Doc, how I'd stolen from the last company I worked for down in Atlanta. They thought that would make me a perfect target for them to blackmail into stealing for them.
"Doc, I made it into the building, past all the security measures, even the newest ones we installed after the last break-in. I was standing right outside the lab they wanted me to steal from, and I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't steal from the company I work for again and risk going to jail. I had to find a better way, one where I might be able to look at myself in the mirror afterwards."
Scott looked over the desk at Dr. Pym and concluded, "I'm sorry that my 'better way' involved stealing from you. I brought the suit back so I could make restitution for what I did. I'll turn myself in to the police tomorrow, after I take my daughter to see the doctor and say good-bye to her."
Dr. Pym sat at his desk without speaking for a few moments, just staring across the desk into Scott's face. "'Dr. Pym, I'm taking your suit. I'll explain later. I'm sorry. Scott Lang,'" Dr. Pym finally read, holding up the sticky note he had taken off the Ant-Man mannequin two days earlier. "You have no idea how concerning it was for me to get a warning at home that my 'Ant-Hill' had been opened, and then come in the next day and see that my Ant-Man suit was missing, and have no idea where it was, Mr. Lang.
"That's why it's a good thing that did not happen," he added, a tiny smile finally cracking across his lips.
"…What?" Scott asked, confused.
"When I installed my hero equipment in the office, I added GPS locating devices to all my suits, just in case something like this happened," Dr. Pym explained patiently. "I knew exactly where you were every step of the way, Mr. Lang. Actually, I nearly pulled out my Yellowjacket suit and followed you, but I thought better of it."
"Sir?"
"Mr. Lang, you remember me telling you that I gave away my Goliath suit last year, right?" Dr. Pym asked.
"Yes…"
"My research assistant for the last 16 years before my retirement was a brilliant scientist named Bill Foster," Dr. Pym told him. "He actually had the idea to reverse the polarity on a canister of Pym Particles and infuse it with Delta Rays to slightly alter its chemical properties. We did some experimentation, and discovered that altering the Particles in that way would allow something to grow larger than normal instead of just shrinking and returning to normal size. That's actually where the Goliath identity came from."
Dr. Pym fell silent for a few minutes, gazing off to the side at the panels which Scott knew were hiding his hero equipment. Finally, Scott surreptitiously cleared his throat, pulling Dr. Pym back to reality.
"Where was I? Oh, yes. Anyways, when I retired last year, I thought it was only fitting for Bill to be the next Goliath, seeing that it was his idea behind the technology that makes it possible. Well, that and I wanted there to still be a Goliath!"
"What does this have to do with me?" Scott wondered.
"I've been searching for a new Ant-Man for close to a decade, ever since I realized I wasn't as young as the hero business seems to require. And I've been giving that search a lot of thought since you stole my suit, Mr. Lang," Dr. Pym answered. "You could have done anything you wanted to with it; the possibilities are practically endless! But instead, you took the suit to St. Louis and did this—" Dr. Pym dropped that day's St. Louis Post-Dispatch on the desk in front of him, on top of the duffel. Scott picked it up and read the headline on the front page above the fold, "Ant-Man Saves Doctor, Takes Down Street Gang." Underneath the Post-Dispatch, Scott saw another newspaper, this one the LA Times, with the headline, "Ant-Man Returns," also on the front page above the fold. The photograph accompanying the St. Louis Post-Dispatch article showed a warehouse filled with insects, both live and dead, along with a few of the gunmen being handcuffed by police. Opening it to read the second page showed another photograph, this time of Scott in the Ant-Man suit riding a dragonfly, which had obviously been caught by a traffic camera during his chase of Justin Hammer. The LA Times article only included a single photograph, a stock picture of the Ant-Man standing in front of a bound criminal.
"You know, that headline isn't strictly accurate," Scott observed, pointing at the Post-Dispatch. "They weren't a street gang; they were part of a corporate espionage ring trying to steal company secrets."
"Oh, I know," Dr. Pym said waving his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about the cover story. The point is: You could have used the suit to steal the information they were looking for. You could have used it for any number of illegal things. Instead, you took the group down and saved the doctor so you could save your daughter's life.
"Mr. Lang, keep this," he said, pushing the duffel off the desk and into Scott's lap. "I think I've found the new Ant-Man."
"What?" Scott gasped in disbelief. "But… why?"
"I see in you the same desire to do the right thing that I had myself when I started, and which I saw in Bill the minute I met him," Dr. Pym replied simply. "However, I'm only giving you this suit under two conditions."
"Name them," Scott replied, still in shock.
"First, you must promise me that you will only use this power for good."
"I promise," Scott answered with an earnest nod.
"And second, you must promise that you will keep the name and the suit," Dr. Pym said with a smile. "Call me prideful if you like, but this is the only suit which has maintained exactly the same look and color scheme since I created it fifty years ago. It's so well known, it seems a shame to change it."
Scott thought about it for a minute. Finally, he nodded his head in agreement. "Fair enough. I'll keep the name and suit the same."
"Excellent," Dr. Pym said. "Let me know when I can come over to help you set up a Pym Particle generator in your apartment," he added.
"I will," Scott replied. "Thank you so much for not reporting me to the police."
"You're very welcome, 'Ant-Man,'" Dr. Pym said with a short laugh. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a silvery metal box. "I'm guessing you'll be wanting these," he observed, sliding the box across to Scott.
Scott opened the box and saw that the interior was padded, but with indentations the exact size of Pym Particle canisters. It had spots for twenty, but only sixteen of the spots were filled.
"If you're anything like me, you probably used up most of the canisters on your belt just over the last three days," Dr. Pym explained with a small laugh.
Scott laughed and pulled a brown paper bag out of the duffel. "Close," he said. "I used about two-thirds of them."
"Well, you can have these for now, and I'll bring a few more by when I install your generator," Dr. Pym offered.
"Yes, sir," Scott said, standing up, shaking Dr. Pym's hand, and picking up the duffel. "Oh, and Dr. Pym? Thank you."
"You're very welcome, Mr. Lang."
Not even a minute after Scott left his office, Dr. Pym picked up his phone and dialed a number. The phone only rang once before someone picked it up.
Dr. Pym listened for a minute before interrupting, "Yes, yes, you don't need to go through the whole thing. I liked the old name a lot better. Get me Hill."
He waited a couple minutes for the call to be transferred.
"Hill? It's Hank Pym… I know— No… No, I'm not coming out of retirement; actually I've got something much better for you…"
