So today is Gwyneth Paltrow's birthday... All I'm going to say about that is that I hope she has the best day possible with her friends and family.


Thursday, February 2nd, 2012

Tony hit the replay button again. He had agreed to leave the surveillance vide of himself at the hotel alone. However, he felt that he couldn't get it off his mind. He talked to Steve about it, but his advice hadn't differed much from Rhodey's; leave the video alone and talk to Pepper about it under more calm conditions. Although, Steve did add that he was going to need to have a talk with Romanoff. While yes, all four of them had already seen the video – and Steve was sure to make it clear that they only did so in an effort to locate him while he was missing – he had no idea that she had obtained the video from the hotel, nor that she had sent it to Pepper. Tony figured that had been the case, so really it was a non-issue.

Despite that, Tony couldn't stop thinking about that one video. So, what would be the best way to take his mind off it? If you answered, "by obsessing over another video," then you've won the grand prize!

He had woken up that morning at four-thirty after going to bed with Steve at around ten. That would be considered good if it weren't for the fact that he hadn't fallen asleep until one in the morning. When Tony woke up, Steve was still asleep. He usually woke up at five to go for a morning jog, but Tony didn't want to disturb him, even if he'd just be up in thirty minutes anyway. So instead, he got up and went to his office.

This time, he didn't linger in the doorway. The bar was gone now, so there was nothing to entice him into the room. Well, nothing except the computer. Yes, even hours later that video was still on his mind and the computer was just sitting there, being oh-so tempting… Tony only made it as far as booting the computer up before he thought better of it, though. He still hadn't spoken to Pepper about it. He needed to leave it alone.

However, he found that his brain could not stop focusing on the video. So instead, he did what he usually did when he couldn't get something off his mind (and couldn't drink); direct all his energy somewhere else. Once the computer booted up, he brought up the video Cabe had given them the day before of Freeman letting the People's Unity Church members into the Tower.

He didn't know what he was looking for or why. It wasn't like that video of the Oswin girl before where she became more visible with each playthrough. Every frame remained the same each time Tony watched it. The only thing it was serving to do was distract Tony from his video and add to his disdain towards Freeman.

For the rest of the day, every time Tony had a spare moment, he was watching the video. By five PM, he had to have watched it so many times that a normal person would have probably gone insane. He had watched it during lunch breaks, in between meetings, and during meetings (don't tell Pepper.) Even now, when he was supposed to be doing other work, he was instead watching the video. It didn't occur to him that this might be radically obsessive – even for a distraction – until the sound of a stack of papers slamming against the glass top of his desk startled him out of it.

"Finally," Lara said. "Are you listening now?"

Tony looked up and frowned. Despite the annoyed look on her face, Lara did appear to be better than she was the day before. However, he still didn't want to spur on any anger and/or tears, so he took it easy on her.

"Don't I always?" Lara narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Repeat back to me what I just said."

"What I just said." Lara scoffed.

"Really? We're resorting to that level of inane childishness?"

"Would you rather we resort to a game of 'I know you are, but what am I?'" Lara rolled her eyes.

"Please," she said. "I'd rather try to pierce my septum with a thumb tack." Tony winced at the mental image of that.

"Okay," he said. "Now I need to get that out of my mind. What were you saying?" Lara let out an aggravated sigh.

"I said you need to sign this waiver for Damage Control." She placed the papers down on his desk a lot more gently this time. "I've already read it over. It has to do with liability with the disposal of potentially hazardous waste. I didn't see any problem with it, but you might want to read it over yourself instead of, you know, watching that jackass screw us over for the thousandth time." Tony sighed.

Here we go.

"What is your problem?" he asked.

"I thought I just said it," Lara responded.

"Yeah," Tony said. "You've said it multiple times actually, and each time you're clearly walking away still upset about it, so that leads me to believe you aren't really saying what's on your mind." Lara frowned.

"I can't say." Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Why? Afraid you're going to lose it?" Lara shook her head.

"Not safe for work." Tony gave her a disbelieving look. "It's also personal. I don't want to talk about it, just like you don't want to talk about what's bothering you."

"Touché," Tony remarked.

"Just read over these papers and have them signed by the morning," Lara said. "And actually, do it. Don't spend the whole night obsessively watching that video."

"Why?" Tony asked. "Where are you going?"

"Home." Lara rolled her eyes at her own mistake. "Well, not home; my friend's house, but all the same, it's the end of the day and I just want dinner and sleep."

"Good luck with that," Tony said.

"You, too." She then made her way to the door but paused as she came to stand in the frame. She turned to look back at him. "By the way, text me in thirty minutes." Tony's brow scrunched in confusion.

"Why?" he asked.

"Just do it," was all Lara said before she left the room.

Tony turned back to the screen in front of him. For a moment, his hand hovered over the screen, ready to tap the replay button before he put it back down. Leaning back in his chair, he let himself get lost in thought.

He wasn't deflecting again, was he? Well, technically that required him to be in a conversation with another person… Could you deflect something from yourself?

Yes, it's called avoidance. Tony really wished he could direct a glare at himself. Instead, he settled for directing it at Freeman's image on the holographic screen. Eventually, though, he had to relent and did so with a heavy sight.

Okay, he was avoiding the issue. Not only was he going out of his way to distract himself, but he was also kind of avoiding talking to Pepper. He could admit that at the same time, though, he couldn't push himself to stop it. The only way he could see that ending was with him doing something stupid or with a fight. He thought maybe he should talk to someone about this, but he already talked to both Rhodey and Steve and he didn't feel like he had made much headway. He just felt like he was talking himself in circles. Nothing was getting solved and sadly, Tony was starting to think nothing could be solved. It was kind of disheartening…

Tony brought a hand up to his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. He wanted to do something about this, but he knew he couldn't. It was frustrating beyond belief. There was one thing he could try, though, he was just very afraid of how it could turn out.

It wasn't like the thought hadn't occurred to him before; of course, it had. However, the previous times he had "tried" (been forced into) it, he ended up going straight home and drinking until the floor became the ceiling. Then again, it might be different this time. At the very least, the Tower was now essentially a dry building. It'd be far harder for him to drink his pain away. He could at least look into it. There wouldn't be any harm in that, right?"

"JARVIS, can you look into therapists in the area?" Just that question made his chest feel like it was caving in on him. His hand flew under his shirt to the Arc Reactor. Just off touch alone, Tony could tell that everything felt like it was supposed to. Assured that he was physically fine, he turned his attention to just how wrong he felt.

Yes, just asking his AI to look up therapists for him made Tony feel wrong. He didn't know why he felt wrong, he just did and that alone disturbed him to the point where he was shaking. Time slowed down. Every second felt like a year. All Tony could think was what have I done?

"I've come up with eighty-seven results in the immediate area," JARVIS reported. "Would you like me to expand the search area or narrow the results?"

The words got caught in Tony's mouth and it took him a moment to force them out. He had to swallow hard in order to do so, though.

"Never mind, JARVIS," he said.

"Are you sure?" the AI inquired. "I can…"

"I said never mind!" As he said that, he accidentally kicked off against the desk, causing his chair to tilt backwards and sending him tumbling to the floor. His head bounced against the ground, but it didn't knock him out. Just to be sure, though, Tony got up onto his hands and knees, crawling a couple feet away before solidly coming to a stop.

"Sir, are you okay?" Tony took a shuddering breath.

"I'm fine," Tony panted out. "I'm fine."

Despite that assurance, Tony couldn't bring himself to get up off the ground. He remained frozen in place. His heart kept hammering in his chest and his arms shook. For what felt like eons he remained there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, completely unable to move.

Eventually, though, Tony began to snap out of it. Whatever paralysis that took a hold of him began to fade. He started to ease back onto his legs and got back up to a standing position, using his desk as leverage.

Once he was up, he put his hands down on the desk and leaned forward, taking slow, deep breaths. His eyes scanned the room. Everything looked the same, which should have been reassuring, yet somehow it wasn't. He swallowed hard.

Alright, maybe I've wallowed in my psychological trauma enough for one day.

Although that was probably and understatement, Tony still nodded in agreement with himself on that. With one more deep breath, he started moving towards the door.

"Close up shop for me, would you J?"

"Alright, Sir," JARVIS responded. "Would you like me to save those search results?" Tony paused for a moment as he reached to open the door.

"Do whatever you want with them." He then stepped into the hallway, only to come to a halt once again.

Directly across the hall from Tony's corporate office was Pepper's office. Again, it occurred to him that he should probably talk to her and talk to her and it wasn't like he had an excuse not to. He could clearly see her sitting at her desk, intently focused on whatever she was working on. Tony's gut twisted uncertainty, but he still took a hesitant couple of steps to the door. He even brought a fist up to knock on the door but couldn't bring himself to go through with it. He just didn't have the emotional energy to do it. His hand hovered at the door for a moment before he brought it back down, sighed, and turned to walk back to the elevator.

Sliding his key in and hitting the button for the penthouse, Tony stepped back to the rear wall and leaned against it, shutting his eyes. There was only one thing he wanted right in that moment and that was to be in Steve's arms. It felt like forever before he heard the chime that indicated that the elevator had reached it's intended destination, and when it did, Tony felt a small relief come over him.

Only a small one, though, as he was only halfway to Steve. To get the rest of the way there, he had to go around to the other side of the penthouse and take the local elevator up to the apartment. On the way there, he passed by the archway that led to the communal kitchen. He popped his head in to make sure Steve wasn't in there and saw Bruce at the stove, cooking a meal that Tony could only guess was a type of curry. It smelled good and before he left, Bruce told him to tell Steve that dinner would be ready in ten minutes. Tony told him that he would, but honestly he doubted he'd remember to once he had Steve close, even if the food smelled that amazing.

The ride up to the apartment went a lot faster than the one up to the penthouse, which was good. The best thing, though, was that his wait was considerably shortened because as soon as the elevator doors opened, he came face-to-face with Steve. There wasn't even time for the two of them to exchange looks before Tony threw his arms around Steve, who reciprocated just as fast.

"Hey there," he said. "I was just coming to check on you." Tony smiled a bit.

"You didn't have to do that," he said. "I was fine." He felt Steve's hand gently rub his back.

"I figured," he said. "But Lara called and said that you weren't replying to her texts and asked me to check on you." Tony frowned.

Oh. That's why she wanted me to text her back. He let out a bit of a sigh of annoyance. At the same time, though, he couldn't blame her for doing that. If anyone would have been able to pull him away from his own misery, it would be Steve. So, Tony just continued to enjoy holding and being held by his boyfriend. Although, he could start to feel the weight of his misery pressing on the back of the mind.

"Don't worry," Tony said softly, resting his cheek on Steve's shoulder. "I pulled myself away. I'm not going to drive myself crazy." Steve pulled back, looking concerned.

"Are you okay?" Tony shrugged.

"About the same," he said. "Which I know isn't saying much…" Steve put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"I'm still here, though." Tony nodded.

"And so am I." They exchanged smiles for a moment until Tony finally walked past Steve and into the living room, practically collapsing into an armchair. "Bruce says dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

"That's good," Steve said as he followed him into the living room. "What's he making."

"I don't know but I think it's Indian." A grimace crossed Steve's face.

"It's not too spicy, is it?" he asked.

"I didn't taste it myself," Tony said. "But I'm sure Bruce learned his lesson from the first time he made us curry." That lesson being Super Soldiers with enhanced taste buds and exotic spices don't mix. "I wouldn't worry about that. Besides, you're glazing over the important part." Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Which would be?" Tony smirked.

"We have ten minutes." Steve reflected Tony's smirk and moved so he was straddling his hips and leaning over him.

"Oh, how silly of me," he said. "How could I not notice something like that?" He pressed a chaste kiss to Tony's lips. "I can forgive you," he said. "Especially since there's a lot we can do in ten minutes." Steve licked his lips.

"You don't need to tell me twice." With that, Steve went in for the kiss, which Tony completely surrendered himself to. The two became so immersed in each other that they didn't come back to reality until JARVIS informed them that Bruce had finished cooking.


Friday, February 4th, 2010

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!

"Mm! Oh!"

"Ray!"

Biting down on her lip hard, Lara tried to turn the volume up on her phone again. Unfortunately, the device had already reached its maximum volume and Robin Zander couldn't sing any louder. She thought about screaming just to drown out the sounds that Todd and her boyfriend were making, but she was certain that if she did, they would both come running out with guns drawn, not bothering to put on any clothes. Lara didn't need to see that, nor did she need to risk getting shot again, so she once again feebly tried to knock on the wall.

"Hey, lovebirds!" she shouted. "Some of us have to work in the morning! Could you keep it down?!"

If they heard her at all, they ignored her. Frowning, Lara slumped back down on the pull-out couch, wondering why she had a friend who had to be so loud, or – even better – why she couldn't have one considerate enough not to have sex while guests were over. Even Telemachus was upset. He stood poised at the end of the mattress, ready to attack the vicious animal that he seemed convinced would come bounding out of the bedroom at any time.

Realizing that her friend wasn't going to quit any time soon, Lara got up out of bed, giving up on sleep entirely. Going out the front door and stepping into the hallway, she hoped she would be able to escape the sound. It was somewhat quieter out there, but she could still hear some of the louder moans and the bed squeaking, even with her headphones on. It made her feel bad for whoever lived above and below them.

Rubbing her eyes, Lara moved to sit on the other side of the hallway, determined to wait them out. Taking her phone out of her robe pocket, she hit the home button to check the time. She groaned when she saw that it was almost one AM. That meant they'd been going at it for almost four hours and that she had five hours until she had to start getting ready for work. Again, she wondered whatever happened to basic human decency and erectile dysfunction.

Unlocking her phone, Lara scrolled around, looking for something to do. At one point, she ended up accidentally tapping the messenger app and she was once again faced with the message Betty had sent her now two days before. It hadn't changed (obviously) but she couldn't help but feel guilty as she read it over again. Also, she felt incredibly stupid.

How could she have ever thought that this was Dante? Everything was spelled correctly, and the message was very polite. Both were dead giveaways that it wasn't him. She was just so scared and exhausted that she was willing to run with whatever conclusion her brain happened to come to first. Not to mention that in running with that conclusion, she snapped at Bruce, who honestly didn't deserve that kind of reaction. After all, it was just a text from a person who – as far as Lara had heard and could tell – was a completely decent human being. (Unlike some people…)

Turning her gaze up to the ceiling, Lara took a deep breath in and out. There were a lot of things she needed to do to fix this while most of it was going to have to wait until morning – which couldn't come fast enough – there was one thing she do right now. She just hoped Betty wouldn't be weirded out by the fact that she was texting her at nearly one in the morning. With another few seconds of calm breathing and stucco-gazing, Lara looked back down at her phone and tapped to reply to the message.

Me: Hi, Betty. I'm sorry it took so long for me to reply. My life is kind of crazy right now. Anyway, Bruce has told me a lot about you and I'm sorry I didn't get to meet you either. I would be fine with texting you. You seem nice. What do you mean about coming to the wedding? Did Bruce say that he was going to ask me?

Lara hit the send button before she could think about the message too hard. She didn't want to sound too much like she was prying, or that she wanted Bruce to take her along. After all, if he didn't, it would just come off like she was fishing for an invitation and she didn't want to make Betty feel like she had to invite her. That would be incredibly rude. Plus, she didn't want to make it seem like she was interested in Bruce, especially since the last thing she should be doing right now was dating. She had a feeling that if she added that ball to the twenty-seven that she was already juggling, she'd drop them all.

She hit the button to turn off the phone's screen and slipped the device back into her pocket. With nothing left to do but wait for the two nymphomaniacs to finish their mating ritual, Lara shut her eyes and leaned back against the wall, once again willing "I Want You to Want Me" to drown out the psychologically scarring sounds.


As the car pulled into the Tower's underground parking garage, Natasha took a deep breath and reassured herself that everything was fine. She glanced up to look at Clint's reflection in the rearview mirror He still looked terrible. His skin was much paler than it usually was, and he was clearly very worn down and weak, but he was still alive, and that in and of itself was a miracle.

The doctors had determined that Clint was healthy enough to be released from their care. He had been taken off the ventilator Wednesday evening and he'd been breathing on his own since then. His vitals had been steadily improving and were to the point where they felt that he was healthy enough to be out on his own and that he was no danger to the public at large (as far as contamination concerns went.) However, there were some restrictions applied.

First, he was under strict bed rest. He was still recovering and too much exercise or strain could set his progress back immensely. That meant no training and no Avengers missions until a doctor cleared him, which Fury was sure to be thrilled about.

Second, he couldn't be around anyone that was sick. Again, his body was still recovering, and his immune system was substantially weakened. He was in no state to be fighting off viral infections and if Clint got sick, the consequences ranged from a bout of pneumonia to death. So, visitors were going to have to be regulated. The good thing was that since he was on bed rest, he wouldn't be out in the public, so that wouldn't be too hard to accomplish. The most that needed to be done was that everyone would have to wash their hands before they interacted with him and not to go near him if they were sick, which was no big deal.

Although, it's kind of was a big deal. Technically, Clint probably shouldn't be leaving the hospital for another few days. The only reasons why they were was because the Tower had a fully stocked med bay – which was located on the same floor as their quarters and Clint's room was actually the closest to it – and Banner had enough medical experience to where they felt that if something happened to Clint, Banner would be able to keep him stable until EMTs could get there.

So, the decision was made to release Clint under these restrictions. It came as both a relief and worry. Relief because it meant Clint was getting better and he'd likely recover better in his own space than in a hospital. Worry because of how fragile he still was. Both of those emotions weighed on Natasha heavily.

As far separated from the Red Room as she was, there was still a part of her brain that was wired against even feeling emotion at all. Emotion was compromising; it got in the way of becoming the perfect killing machine that they wanted, so it had to be eliminated. As a result, any time Natasha felt anything other than indifference, a little electric charge would be sent through her brain, telling her that "this is wrong." Most of the time, she could ignore it. However, with the circumstance and stress of the past few days, her brain was having a hard time doing so. It was even worse when she was forced to consider her actions with Maurita Sharpton and NHL.

She let her emotions get to her. She recognized that. She also clearly crossed a line in interrogating Sharpton and confronting Subarian. It had been a long time since she had lost control like that and she couldn't help but think that maybe her emotions had compromised her, just like the Red Room said they would.

It stung, so much so that Natasha had to turn her gaze away from the mirror and down to her feet. She knew she had done wrong. She knew she owed some apologies – to Steve if not anyone else. She ignored his concerns the entire time and did as she pleased. That wasn't right, especially if they were going to be working together as a team.

She didn't look back up again until the car came to a complete stop. At that point, she pushed all her thoughts aside and got to work. Getting out of the car, she walked around to Clint's side and opened the door for him. At the same time Happy Hogan – whom Stark sent to pick them up – went to the trunk to get the wheelchair that the hospital had provided them with. Clint tried to argue that he didn't need the wheelchair and he could stand just fine, but that wasn't true at all. He leaned on Natasha heavily as she helped him out of the car and once, he was in the chair, the arguments stopped. Other than pouting a little bit, he didn't try to stand or otherwise object to the placement, which was good. At least he knew when to give up the fight.

They took the express elevator directly up to the penthouse. The foyer and the hallways were unsurprisingly empty. Stark and Banner were likely working, and Steve was probably doing whatever he did when he wasn't making out with Stark. It wasn't like they had been expecting a whole parade for their homecoming and they were fine with that. Clint needed to rest, anyway. He didn't need too much excitement. Natasha pushed Clint through the hallways and along with Happy, boarded the local elevator. She hit the button for the second floor and waited patiently for the doors to open again.

When they did, a whole parade was waiting for them. Banner, Lara, Steve, and Stark stood just outside the doors and within moments they were moving to greet them. It came as a little bit of a shock to Natasha, especially when Steve pulled her in for a quick, one-armed hug. Before he could pull away, she rushed the words out.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should have listened to you and stuck with the plan." Steve shook his head as he pulled back.

"What's done is done," he said. "Just don't let it happen again." Natasha nodded, relieved that at least this wouldn't be held against her. She looked back over and saw Banner handing Clint a golden furball.

"I've been looking after him since I got back," he explained. "He's been a good boy. The most he's done is cry when I don't give him enough attention, but other than that, I've had no problems." Clint smiled as the puppy started licking his face.

"Thanks, Banner," Clint said, his hoarse voice crackling a bit. "If there's any way I can repay you…"

"Don't worry about it," Bruce assured at the same time Stark spoke up.

"Well, Barton, it would be nice if you told someone that you still had a dog in my building – even though you originally assured me that it wouldn't be here for longer than a day – before you got yourself hospitalized. Lara – who was closest to Stark – thumped his shoulder with the back of her hand, while Steve shot his boyfriend a disappointed look. Clint, meanwhile, laughed.

"First of all, it's Clint," he said. "Secondly, the dog's a 'he', not an 'it.' Third, can you really stay mad at this face?" He held up the puppy, who seemed to know that he needed to put the charm on. The dog looked up at Stark with the widest, most pleading brown eyes and despite his annoyance with the animal's mere existence, his expression began to waver. Frowning, he sighed.

"If he shits on something, your paying for it, Clint." Clint grinned as he gave the puppy's ear a scratch.

"I've already accounted for that," he said.

"Good to hear," Lara said. "So, you're doing better?"

"Well, I was almost dead five days ago," Clint said. "So, I would say I'm doing better."

"Better enough to be up for a movie?" Clint raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?" Lara nodded.

"We moved the TV in your room so it's facing the bed," she said. "And none of us have anywhere we need to be for the rest of the day."

"So, any movie you want," Stark said. "No judgment, even if it's porn." Lara's eyes practically bulged out of her skull.

"Please don't choose porn!" Clint laughed again and that was enough to make Natasha's lips quirk upwards, too.

"Seriously, though," Banner said, even though he was smiling, too. "Only do it if you feel up to it. If you want to rest, that's fine, too. We'll leave you alone." Clint shook his head.

"No," he said. "A movie sounds like exactly what I need."

With that, Steve took the reigns in pushing Clint's wheelchair, and Lara and Bruce went to get the bed ready for him. Stark asked Happy if he wanted to stay and watch the movie, but he declined. With that, Natasha and Stark were left as the last stragglers into the room. Walking down the hall with him standing next to her, Nat figured that this was a good a time as any to say what she needed to say.

"So, Stark," she said. "There's something I needed to talk to you about." To her surprise, he scoffed.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "You sent that damn video to Pepper." Natasha had to think for a moment before she realized what he was talking about.

Shit! She had completely forgotten about that.

"Listen, Stark…" He cut her off before she could say anything more.

"Save it," he said. "Just don't talk to me and we won't have any problems." He then increased his pace to get ahead of her. Natasha frowned.

Well, shit.


Special thanks to DiveTooDeep for the comment on AO3! It really means a lot!

I wish I had something insightful to say, but frankly, I'm just tired and this chapter is as long as hell, so I'll forgo a comment and just ask you to review, comment, kudos, favorite, follow, and all that other fun stuff. Sound good?

Remember kids, just don't buy Goop products, even the non-dangerous ones.


Originally posted on 9/27/20.