[author's note:
For those of you who have skipped the last chapter:
Tony got severely injured in the fight against Captain America and the Winter Soldier in Siberia. While he lies alone in the bunker trapped in his suit with no way to call for help and nobody out there who could safe him. He thinks of Rhodey, his son as well as Peter. He fights against symptoms of a concussion but ends up passing out.]
###
Chapter 30 - Currently Unavailable
It was a bit of a miserable day in New York City. Not that Peter minded the rain all that much. It was a nice relief from the heat they had endured for most of the month and it was only June. It made riding the subway somewhat bearable. He was leaning against a grabpole, eyes focused on the raindrops that were pushed around by a mix of gravity and the airflow as the train rolled towards Manhattan. It helped to keep his senses in check, the focus on one single thing just like Mr. Stark had told him to practice. It helped to shut out the voices around him. Or at least drowned them out enough to downgrade them to bearable background noise. The number one topic people chatted about remained the same that it had been for days: the Avengers. Perspectives had changed a bit, become a little more measured. People knew now that a bunch of them were in custody. That Iron Man, War Machine, Black Panther and Vision had gone out there and fought the Rouges as they had been dubbed. He hadn't heard the Widow mentioned by anyone, which was odd.
But none of these people knew what the price for all of that had been. None of them had an inkling of how severe Colonel Rhodes had been injured in the process. Nor did Peter, really. He had no idea what had actually happened. How fast the man would recover.
Peter had been waiting in his hotel room in Leipzig, waiting for Mr. Stark to tell him where to go. For someone to tell him what to do next. He hadn't heard from Mr. Stark at all since he had told Peter to stand down at the airport. Maybe he shouldn't have left? Maybe Mr. Stark thought that he had run out on him? Had he come back and Peter had just been gone? Maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe the man had not—
Then the door to his hotel room had swung open and his mentor strode in, was quick to close the door behind him.
"Mr. Stark!" Peter had an urge to rush towards the man, to make sure that he was alright. That feeling of dread that had lingered around the airport still persistent in his very bones.
"Pete. You alright?"
The man looked exhausted, limbs stiff, body moving not as smoothly as he usually did. But it was his face that held most of the pain, his eyes deeper and darker than usual.
"I'm... yeah... yeah, I'm okay." He rubbed a hand awkwardly over his arm. His energy was still flat and he had caught a few bruises, a bit of a headache from that last fall. Other than that though he was okay.
"You got out okay? Nobody saw you?"
"No. I... no, nobody saw me."
Mr. Stark gave a short nod. "Good. Good thinking, kid."
"I..." Peter frowned. Had he not talked to the Widow yet? "It, well... It was the Black Widow. She told me to go. I mean, I was trying to talk to you, but the comm was off and I couldn't—"
"Natasha talked to you?" Mr. Stark's gaze was straight on him, eyebrows closely knitted together. "What did she say?"
Peter blinked. "She just told me that the police were on their way and that I should get out."
"That's it?" His voice was sharp, too sharp.
"I... She said to leave. I tried to talk to you, but she said you were busy and that if I stayed Ross was gonna interview me and you'd have more explaining to do."
"She said that to you?"
Peter nodded, eyes still wide.
"Huh." Mr. Stark gave his head a small shake. His gaze drifted off to somewhere in midair, eyebrows still pulled together in a deep frown. "I have a plane on hold for you. Not here. There's a regional airport nearby. Car will be here in 25 minutes." He cleared his throat, eyes back on Peter now and he took a couple of steps towards him. His hand landed lightly on Peter's shoulder as he looked him up and down, studying his hunched stance. "You sure you're alright? If you need medical—"
"I'm fine, Mr. Stark. I promise." The hand on his shoulder grounded him, gave him a sense of security that he had been lacking ever since he had boarded that plane to Germany. Ever since Mr. Stark had come to him at the Tower, really. "What happened, Sir?"
"What happened?" his mentor huffed out a couple of shallow breaths that almost seemed like a dry laugh. "You saw what happened. We disagreed."
Peter blinked at him. That wasn't what he was asking and Mr. Stark knew that. "Captain Rogers, he... he got away?"
"Rogers and Barnes."
Peter shook his head. No. That wasn't it. "What happened?"
The man's mouth twitched. "Who said something happened?"
Peter kept his gaze focused on him, unwilling to break eye contact. "My senses for one thing." He ignored the urge to shrug off the thought, not wanting to push Mr. Stark out of his space. "The onslaught of police and ambulances would be another clue."
Mr. Stark's face changed into the mask he wore so often in public and pulled his hand back from Peter's shoulder after all. "It's... nothing you need to worry about, Pete."
"Sir?" Peter just stopped himself from reaching out for him. "Are you not... are you not gonna fly back, too?"
"I will. I just... Yes, I will."
That didn't sound like he was planning to leave very soon at all though. "Do you need to stay here? Are they... is it because of what happened?"
The man took a step back, retreating, capping the contact to Peter. "We can talk about this later. Now... now is not the time."
"Please, Sir. Just tell me, I—"
"I don't know, Peter."
Mr. Stark's voice had a sharpness that Peter had rarely heard in it. Peter couldn't help but take a step back now as well. This... this must be bad. Mr. Stark kept his eyes on him and as Peter retreated further back the mask fell off his face within seconds. "Pete, listen it's..." He sighed again and looked away, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "Rhodey got hit. The suit... the suit lost power and he fell."
Peter swallowed hard. "He fell? How... how far? Is he... is he alright?"
"I don't know, Pete. I... I don't know," Mr. Stark's eyes were not on him, just focused on something behind him.
Peter turned to see and the airport was right there. Smoke was still rising from the wreckage they had left behind on that airfield. But that was not what Mr. Stark was looking at. His eyes were focussed on something further off in the field behind the airport. There were still a bunch of police cars who had closed off the area. Peter's breath caught in his throat. Was that where Colonel Rhodes had fallen? All the way out there?
"Is... Is that—"
"I have to get back to the airport," Mr. Stark's voice overrode his. "The transport leaves as soon as I get there. He's... he's alive and... and we'll know more when Helen checks him through at the Compound."
Peter shuffled from one foot to the other. "Can I... Can I not just come with you, Sir?"
Mr. Stark met his eyes. "I need to stay with Rhodey. I'd take you, kid, of course I would, but there are too many people on that plane. You'll be safer on your own, once we left. You'll be alright."
Peter lowered his gaze. Mr. Stark had a point. He couldn't hang around other people that close to his mentor, intern or not. Those people weren't stupid and if the Black Widow was on that plane as well, she was bound to figure things out if Peter just showed up on that transport.
Mr. Stark stepped back up to Peter, put his hand back on his shoulder. "I need to look at that suit of yours, Pete. Come by the lab before you go back out there."
Peter's eyebrows rose up along with his head and he looked straight at him. "I can go back on patrol?"
"Yes." Mr. Stark nodded to himself. "You should. We need to earn people's trust back and they do trust you, Pete."
He blinked at the man and his mouth dropped open. "You... you think the people trust me?"
"Of course they do, kid." The expression on the man's face softened. "You made more of a personal impression on any of them than we could ever hope to." The corners of his mouth almost pulled into a smirk. "I guess it helps that your safes rarely come with the million-dollar damages our fights usually leave behind." His eyes shifted back out to the airport, smoke still blooming from the recently extinguished fires. "We need to check the suit first, though. I want to make sure. We need to run every test I can think of, check if it suffered any damage. In a few days. In a few days I think, alright?"
Peter took a couple of deep breaths to quell his excitement at the prospect of getting some of his routine back. This wasn't the time for it. "I'm sorry about Colonel Rhodes, Mr. Stark." Peter frowned, eyes on his mentor. "I'm sure he'll be okay."
The man's eyes were still on the ruined airport on the other side of the street. He gave a curt nod, then turned and went for the door. "I'll see you in a few days."
He had left Peter in that hotel room to wait for the car and just like on his trip to Germany, Peter had been alone on the return flight. He understood why of course. With Colonel Rhodes injuries. That was more important now. A wave of nausea hit him at the thought of what that fight in Leipzig had cost and he tightened the hold on his backpack. He hadn't talked to Mr. Stark since that day. Not really. Peter had sent a few short messages after he had gotten off the plane. Then another asking when to come by for the check-up and had just received a short "The usual time." But that had been a couple of days ago, that Wednesday night.
He set out to the Tower on the Friday right after school. It had only been a few days since the events in Germany. To think that just that Monday he had been on a different country was enough to blow his mind but the thought of what had transpired there still set his nerves on edge, made his skin prickle. There was excitement bubbling deep inside him, a longing to get back to his routine, sure. There was also that sense of dread that had stuck with him ever since he left the Leipzig airport. A deep throbbing sense of unease that just wouldn't go away.
It usually wasn't a particularly long trip from Queens to the Tower, but that day the train just kept stopping between stations, mumbled explanations by the conductor were lost to Peter as he was still deep in thought. He didn't mind the delay all that much. Not like he usually would. Was simultaneously wishing for time to go by faster to get on with it as well as hoping time would just slow down, give him a few more minutes to prepare. Getting to the Tower seemed to be tied in with all the dread that was clinging to him.
There was an unusual amount of commotion in the lobby. Granted, it was a Friday and Fridays were always busy as the week came to an end, but there were even reporters hanging around the main entrance. He made a beeline for security and kept his head low until the elevator doors closed behind him.
"Hi FRIDAY, can you get me up to the lab."
"Yes, Peter."
The elevator shot up through the building climbing level after level.
"You let him know I'm here, right?" He checked his watch, but it wasn't all that bad. Maybe 15 minutes later than he usually got there. "There was an issue with the subway, something on the tracks. I could have gotten out but I didn't think he'd want that."
"Mr. Stark is currently not at the Tower."
Peter's eyes moved up to the ceiling. "He's not?" Shit, had he gotten his dates mixed up? "But he's back, right? He came back with Colonel Rhodes?"
"Mr. Stark is working on a project at the Compound."
"Shit." The lab opened up in front of him and Peter rubbed a hand across his face. "Shit, take me back down, FRIDAY."
Of course. Of course Mr. Stark was at the Compound! He was an idiot. That's where Colonel Rhodes was most likely being treated by the Avengers' medical team. That's where Mr. Stark would be. Damn, of course Mr. Stark would have meant for him to come to the Compound.
"FRIDAY, I need to get out there. What's the fastest way?"
"There is a car on standby."
Peter bit his lip. He always felt awkward taking advantage of Mr. Stark's drivers. He didn't want the man to think that he was taking these kinds of things for granted.
"Can... can you just ask him, if it's okay that I use one of the cars to get to the Compound?"
"Mr. Stark is currently unavailable."
"Damn, alright. How about... how long does the train take? Or the bus? There should be something I could take out there from Grand Central, right?"
"There is a connection to Esopus that leaves in 17 minutes. The train stops in Poughkeepsie where you need to get off and take the bus 709 to Esopus. From the bus stop, you will need to walk another 1.8 miles to the Compound."
Peter groaned. He wanted to get his suit back, wanted to get back out there. The odd safe here and there and he would make sure they would trust him to help them. Mr. Stark was freaked out as it was though so the check-up had to happen first. Peter would just have to make sure he got there as quickly as possible. He didn't want to keep Mr. Stark waiting either. He'd probably be less annoyed if Peter would just use the car than if he didn't turn up for another two and a half hours.
"Mr. Stark wouldn't mind me using the car, right? I mean, he said that's why he hired the drivers. FRIDAY?"
"The car is always on standby and you are welcome to use it, Peter."
"Right. Alright then. Just... just tell him sorry. And that I'm on my way."
#
In contrast to the Tower, the Compound was quieter than he had seen it in a long time. The last time Peter had seen it this empty was probably the first time he had been there. That weekend when Mr. Stark had shown up on his doorstep and had then taken him out to the Compound.
Peter made it into the building without meeting a single person. He had expected a little more commotion, even with some of the Avengers gone. Well, with most of them gone. Yes, they had put some of them in custody but Rogers and Barnes had escaped and Mr. Stark was sure to have his hands full with that, people nagging him about his progress. Peter had expected a lot of busy Compound employees running around with clear instructions on what to do. But no. There was hardly anyone around.
He made his way straight to the lab. The door to the lab opened for him right away. Peter quickly stepped into the room and the doors shut right behind him. The lab was quiet. No buzzing of the bots. No clinking of metal on metal, the familiar noises that would echo through the lab when Mr. Stark was working. The man was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was upstairs in the office? That wasn't a good sign. If Mr. Stark was quiet that usually meant that he was brooding about something and that was hardly ever a good thing. It might also mean that he was annoyed or mad. With Peter going to the Tower first and the delays on the way, he was over an hour late. Even if something else had put his mentor in a bad mood, Peter being late wouldn't help.
He dropped his backpack next to the sofa that stood in the middle of the lab and dragged his feet as he walked up to the staircase in the back that led up to Mr. Stark's office.
"Mr. Stark?" he called up the stairs but the office was dark. The windows up there must have been blacked out.
"FRIDAY, where is he?"
"Mr. Stark is working on a project at the Compound."
Peter gave his head a subtle shake. "Well, he's not in the lab," he said to himself, then cast his eyes back to the ceiling. "FRIDAY, maybe a little more detail? What's he doing?"
"Mr. Stark is currently unavailable."
"Unavailable?" Peter frowned. "What does that mean? Where is he?"
"Mr. Stark is working on a project at the Compound. He is currently unavailable."
Peter shot a glare up to the ceiling. That was a bit of an exaggerated reaction to Peter being late. Mr. Stark wasn't usually petty like that.
"He doesn't even know I'm here, does he FRIDAY? Did he forget that I was coming by?"
"Mr. Stark did not forget about your appointment. Unfortunately, he is currently unavailable."
"What? Where is he then? Is he gonna meet me here?"
"Mr. Stark is working on a project at the Compound. He is currently unavailable."
"Yeah, you said that. What's with..." he shot another glance up to the ceiling. It wasn't like FRIDAY to be that repetitive. It wasn't like her not to tell him where Mr. Stark was either, even if he was busy. He was busy often enough even on the days that Peter would drop by the lab. "What's going on?"
"I am not at liberty to share this information with you at this point."
He shook his head in confusion. "Who are you at liberty to share this information with?"
"I am not at liberty to share this information with you at this point."
He stood in the middle of the lab and just stared into the open space. This wasn't just odd. This was creepy. Something was wrong, he could feel it. It was almost like someone had set up a —
"FRIDAY, where is Mr. Stark?"
"Mr. Stark is working on a project at the Compound."
"Why do you keep repeating the same sentences over and over again?"
"I am not at liberty to share this information with you at this point."
"Fuck." He rubbed both hands across his face. Mr. Stark didn't want to be found. That much was clear. Only question was... why?
His hands fell off his face as realization hit.
Oh.
Of course Mr. Stark would probably be in the medical wing, would be with Colonel Rhodes. Just the thought of the pain in his mentor's face as he spoke of his friend getting injured in the fight, the concern over if he'd be okay. And he would have put in a filter to keep FRIDAY from spilling that information.
Mr. Stark did not forget about your appointment. Unfortunately, he is currently unavailable.
He had heard that line before. Mr. Stark had literally made him use that line on some of the younger overeager engineers from the 36th floor who had shown up on the lab's door one day to ask for some of his time. It was FRIDAY's standard response to inquiries when the man was busy with something else. Peter sighed. He was fairly sure that Mr. Stark had absolutely forgotten that Peter was going to come to the lab today. That didn't bode too well for whatever state Colonel Rhodes was in. It also explained the empty Compound as well as the busy Tower. Mr. Stark would have shut the Compound off to the outside world, had shut himself off using FRIDAY as a shield so all the questions people had on the current situation of the Avengers, about Mr. Stark's responses to what had transpired went straight to the Tower.
The man was beating himself up for what had happened in Leipzig, was taking the blame like he seemed to do so often. With the team almost entirely gone, Colonel Rhodes injured, probably severely, Mr. Stark was alone in this. Like he had been after the incident in Lagos, after the one in Manhattan. Peter let himself fall onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. It wasn't right. Mr. Stark shouldn't have to deal with all this on his own. He needed people to help him deal with all this, he had said so himself. That day he had come to Peter's apartment, had lectured him in his own room about how nobody could do this hero business alone. How he would have been dead three times over if he would have had to deal with everything on his own.
Well, he wasn't. Peter sat up. His fists clenched around the edge of the couch, fingers turning white from the stain. As long as he was around Mr. Stark wouldn't be alone in this. He wasn't going to let— A thought hit him. There might be a way to get around that filter the man had put on FRIDAY. An idea that was worth a shot.
"Hey, FRIDAY? Is Mr. Stark in the medical wing?"
"Mr. Stark is working on a project at the Compound."
Peter sighed. "Alright then, can you show me what way the medical wing is?"
"The Compound's medical wing is on the east side of the building. Please follow the indicated lights."
Well, at least the questions not directly concerning Mr. Stark still got a regular response from her. Peter carefully checked the hallway. There was nobody around though. The Compound was indeed unusually empty. His steps echoed off the concrete walls and maybe it was just his nerves, but they seemed to ring louder than usual. It wasn't that Peter wasn't allowed to walk around the Compound. He'd been here a bunch of times with Mr. Stark before but things seemed different that day. The atmosphere just a little eerie.
FRIDAY lead him all the way to the east side of the building. He hadn't been to the medical wing before, had always made a point to stay away from the places where he could run into other people at the Compound. People that weren't Mr. Stark. The less people knew about him the less inquiring questions he would potentially expose himself to.
It only took him a few minutes to find the tract. FRIDAY's method of guiding him by the floor lights was reliable and quick until he hit a dead end. The doors that lead to the medical wing were closed. They didn't differ from any of the other automated doors around the Compound. Unlike those other doors in the building, they didn't open for him though which resulted in Peter almost walking into them headfirst.
There was a handprint and retina scanner on the wall as well as an access card reader, the same kind of authorization check that the elevator in the Tower had. His access card was in the back pocket of his jeans. That one wouldn't help him here though. Mr. Stark had given him access to the labs and any checkpoint that would lie on the way, but this. No. There was no way it would work here. He could try of course. Worst case scenario, he'd trigger some kind of alarm. That sure would get him Mr. Stark's attention, but also everyone else's.
"FRIDAY, do I have clearance to get to the medical wing?"
"Access to the Medial Wing is limited to essential personal only."
"I guess that's a no," he mumbled. The doors' privacy function was enabled and there was no way to know what was happening beyond them. He eyed the other doors that he had walked past on his way. He could probably try one of those rooms and then probably find an open window somewhere on the medical wing. There wouldn't be any access scanners on those, but the result would be the same. FRIDAY would know that he shouldn't be in there.
He sighed and looked up at one of her cameras. "Can you let me in, FRIDAY? Please?"
"Peter, you have no access to this area of the Compound."
He bit the insides of his cheeks. His only choice was to convince her and that wouldn't be easy but he had a solid plan.
His eyes were still on her camera mounted in the middle of the corridor above the doors. "Come on, FRIDAY. I'm just gonna check on him quickly."
"You have no access to this area of the Compound."
Alright then, he had this one ace up his sleeve and he'd just have to play it and hope for the best.
"Mr. Stark said that I'm always safe with him." He gave in to the urge to clasp his own hands and pick on his fingers, a nervous tick of his' she'd pick out right away. Something that she might interpret as anxiety that would get him his way. "You heard him. He did say that. I want to see him." He took a couple of shallow breaths, mimicking some of the symptoms he'd show when his senses would play up. "Please, FRIDAY. Please. I need to see him."
The doors stayed closed but FRIDAY's routine answer didn't ring out either.
"Please. You heard him say it. I know you did. He said he'd always make sure I was okay." He bit his lip, eyes still on her camera. "Please, FRI."
For a moment it was quiet and then without another word from FRIDAY the doors in front of him slid open. Peter let out a deep breath, careful to keep the victory grin off his face. Beyond lay a long corridor only illuminated by the dimmed spots near the floor. Just enough light to navigate comfortably but low enough to give the area a somber, deserted vibe. He stepped inside before FRIDAY would have second thoughts about bending the rules for him. Peter put one foot in front of the other and wandered down the corridor. He only came to a halt at the very end of it, where it forked off in two different directions. Just as the realization sunk in that he would never find Mr. Stark in this maze the floor lights to his right lit up a little brighter. FRIDAY. He cast his eyes up to her, a soft smile of thanks on his lips.
She led him through the very heart of the medical wing, around a few corners until he found himself at a dead-end, a wide and heavy door in front of him. He hadn't really thought what he would do once he got there. Mr. Stark would not be easily persuaded to accept Peter's help. Peter had joked about it being their thing, helping each other out, but in reality there was a very clear power dynamic between them. The one where Mr. Stark held all the power and he had almost none. Peter shrugged off the thought. That didn't matter now. Mr. Stark needed help, someone that would have his back and Peter was here for all of it. After everything his mentor had helped him with, had done for him. The suit. The sense of security. Literally stitching him back together.
It was the least he could do.
Suddenly a shiver pulled him from his thoughts. It went through him and out of pure instinct he took a couple of steps back, turned and retreated further until he found his back pressed against the wall behind him. His eyes shot back and forth between the door on his right-hand side and the corridor that had led him there on the other. He might have been able to convince FRIDAY, somewhat trick her into helping him. It was rather unlikely that the Compound's medical staff would come to a similar conclusion. They didn't know him. He had no clearance to be there. They'd just kick him right out.
There was no decision-making process on his part, his body simply acted out of instinct. He jumped for the door and quickly pressed down the handle. His best shot was that Mr. Stark would just go with it and not have his employees kick him out. Peter stepped into the room and the door fell shut behind him. It took mere seconds for him to realized that Mr. Stark wasn't there. The room was empty except for Colonel Rhodes in his hospital bed, a gazillion number of tubes and machine tied to him. Peter was frozen to the spot, eyes on the door. They would turn the corner to the corridor and come in any second. He had to do something. He couldn't... he couldn't be found in the Colonel's hospital room on his own.
"Damn it FRIDAY," he hissed "Is this you trying to get me busted?"
There was nowhere for him to go. Nowhere to run. The door flew opened and Peter closed his eyes, braced himself. He'd be in so much trouble for this.
There was silence at first, then a few hurried steps. Some rustling. Heavy breathing and... and strangled sobs.
Peter frowned then opened his eyes and found his face was only a couple of inches from a plain white wall. He blinked a couple of times. What the...? Slowly, carefully, he craned his neck and the world was turned on its head. Oh. That was the ceiling he had been looking at. He didn't remember jumping, but his senses must have kicked in. That did explain the lack of reaction in the room to his presence.
There was not enough time for him to collect himself, to look around and take in what was happening around him, for just a few moments later the door flew open once again. He kept as still as he could. The dimmed lights in the room were working in his favor and since the two people who had walked into the room both had their backs turned to him, he found the nerve to carefully crawl even further along the ceiling to the back of the room. There were a couple of wardrobes in the corner that left just enough of a gap to the ceiling for him to hide in the space between them.
He bit his lip so he wouldn't curse out loud. If there was anything worse than being found in this room in the first place it would be being found while he was crawling along the ceiling. Without the mask. Just him. He couldn't freak out about that. He couldn't. Deep breaths. He might be alright up there. People never looked up to the ceiling. He had found that to be true on multiple occasions. That was a comforting thought. Enough so that it cleared the panic in his bones just enough that he could make use of his brain again, assess the mess he had gotten himself into.
Two women. It was two women that had entered the room. That much he could tell. One with shorter dark hair, clad in black leather clothes. The one who had been second to come into the room. He couldn't really make out much about the other one as she was crouched over the hospital bed.
"How is he?" The dark-haired woman asked.
The other one cleared her throat. "The surgery went as well as we could have hoped. We'll... " Her voice was heavy with emotion. "We'll know more if he wakes up."
"He will." Her tone just encouraging enough so she sounded sincere. "Pepper, he's been through worse than this."
The breath in his throat caught and he instinctively shrunk further back into the gap between ceiling and wardrobe. That... that was Pepper Potts.
"We don't know that. We don't know anything." Her voice was rough, hardening with every word. "Why was he alone out there? Why?!"
Peter frowned. Alone? Miss Potts slowly detangled herself from the bed and rose to her feet, one hand wiping the tears off her face. That didn't make any sense. Colonel Rhodes hadn't been alone, he—
His mind went blank. As Miss Potts moved away, the vantage point high up on the wardrobe gave Peter a better look at the motionless figure in the hospital bed. That wasn't Colonel Rhodes. Where the hell had FRIDAY—
It hit him all at once. As he recognized the hair, the face despite the tubes. It was him. Mr. Stark was lying in that bed, face cut up and bruised, neck wrapped in heavy bandages, white sheets covering the rest of his body except for his arms. Not even a single tone left Peter's throat, the shock so deep every cell in his body was paralyzed. What? How?
"I don't know, Pepper." The other woman bowed her head low for a deep breath then looked back at her. "We found Steve's shield with Tony."
Peter's heart gave another jump. Rogers? Miss Potts' eyes widened. "Steve Rogers was there? But... but how? Did they just run into each other? In the middle of nowhere in Siberia?"
The other woman exhaled deeply. "I don't know. There's no way to tell what happened. Steve wouldn't just leave the shield behind. Maybe if we accessed the suit's data, but FRIDAY wouldn't even let us get into the lab to keep the suit out of anyone else's view. I guess... I guess we could have one of Compound's head engineers try to access it, or bring it to the Tower. Someone Tony would trust."
Miss Potts reached for the man's hand, carefully entangled her fingers into his. "There is nobody Tony would trust enough to access that data. It'll be encrypted with multiple levels of security codes."
"Maybe if you asked FRIDAY? He'd trust you. She might access it for you."
She shook her head, her hand tightening on his. "Not with this. Not with his suits."
"He trusted you enough to send out the beacon to you."
"Those are old protocols. They were probably in place from before, because... probably because there was no other name he could replace mine with. Not with Rhodey..." She cleared her throat. "Not with Rhodey unavailable."
"It's worth a shot, isn't it?"
Miss Potts turned his eyes down at her hand that still held Mr. Stark's. "I'll have FRIDAY open the door to the lab at least." She took a couple of deep breaths before she looked back up at the other woman in front of her. "The suit should stay in there. In the lab. I'll ask FRIDAY to read out the data. It's not going to work though. Just... just meet me there. Give me... give me maybe an hour?"
Miss Potts turned back towards the bed. One of her arms snaked around her torso, the other hand still held onto Mr. Stark's. Behind her back, the other woman shuffled back and forth on her feet.
"We don't really have an hour."
"Why not?"
"It's Ross, Pepper. He's been trying to get in contact with Tony."
Miss Potts head shot around, eyes wide. "You didn't tell him, did you?"
"I didn't. I told you I wouldn't. But I can't stall him forever. He wants Steve and Barnes. He wants Tony to get them for him."
Miss Potts's eyes went back to Mr. Stark's face. "Ross can't know, Maria. He can't know. Tony signed the Accords. If they find out that he was in a fight without any mandate from the council, they'll put sanctions on him. They might even try to take the suits or... or..."
"Or put him in that bunker. Next to the other Avengers."
Miss Potts' eyes found the other woman's again, her features closed off. "He'd never approve of what Ross did to them. You know that."
The woman, Maria, shook her head and looked away from her. "That doesn't matter now. Ross is a problem we can't put off. We need to deal with him before he starts digging. You need to contact him, make up a story about SI or something."
"Fine." She turned her back to Maria, stepped closer to the hospital bed. "Alright, let's go then."
Miss Potts bent down and pressed her lips against the man's forehead, on the left side where his face showed the least amount of bruising. Peter was quick to look away. Heat shot up in his face. This was too private. Too personal. He should have never even witnessed that. He saw their movement out of the corner of his eye. When he looked back up the door fell shut behind them.
Peter was still huddled on that wardrobe. His heart was racing as he listened to their footsteps, how they quickly walk away from the room down the hallway. His glance turned back to the man in the hospital bed on the other side of the room. Peter's mind was still blank, overwhelmed with shock and the onslaught of information that only brought up even more questions. His hands shook as he slowly descended from his hiding spot. How... how could this have happened? Rogers had gotten away. Mr. Stark was back in the US, he was on that transport with Colonel Rhodes, he had to have been. Why the hell would he go to Siberia?
Slow, small steps brought him closer and closer to the bed. Nausea rose in his throat. His mentor looked weak and beaten, his skin white as a ghost's, half his face covered by the breathing tube they had stuck down his throat.
"What... what happened? Sir, I..." his chest burned, as did the tears in his eyes. "I don't understand. You were fine. You were fine!" His left hand shot up and covered his mouth just in time. Just before a deep sob could work its way out of his throat. Why hadn't he called on him? Why hadn't he let him help? Tears fell from his eyes onto his hand. He took another step forward, stood right next to the man now. Carefully his right hand reached for the man's arm. His skin was warm, much warmer than he had expected. Almost feverish. Peter's fingers curled around the man's wrist, fingertips feeling for his pulse.
It was still there. Shallow, but steady. That rhythm that had calmed him, anchored him only a few days ago, not at all as thundering and booming as it had been before. When Mr. Stark had calmed him, given him shelter at the Tower without so much as a second thought. Peter's heart ached. He ached all over really, every cell of his body. How could this have happened? Why would Mr. Stark have gone out there on his own? At least the Black Widow should have been with him!
He inhaled deeply, rubbed a hand across his face, the other one still clasping his mentor's wrist. "You're the one who... who told me that nobody could do this whole... whole superhero business on their own," Peter whispered. "I would have come with you, Sir. You... you didn't have to do this alone."
Peter closed his eyes and slowly sank to the floor. His head came to rest against the mattress, fingertips still pressed on Mr. Stark's pulse point.
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[author's note:
Happy 2020, guys!
Thanks again for reading, the lovely comments, and the likes. I really appreciate it.]