Chapter 80 - The Smoking Gun

Tony's skin was itching. He wasn't even sure if it was the cut on his face itself or the tape that Pepper had applied so expertly. Maybe it was simply his irritation with the entire day prickling underneath his skin.

What a shit show.

"Tony..."

"Hm?" He blinked away his exhaustion, forcing his eyes to focus. Pepper looked at him like she was waiting for something. "What's wrong?"

"What's..." She gave her head a tiny shake, eyes narrowed. "I ask you what your plan is and..."

Pepper stopped herself, studying him quietly. There was nowhere for Tony to hide. He just sat there, exposed, while his mind had drifted to feeling sorry for himself with nothing even close to a plan ready to share.

"I... I think we should make sure that..." His throat hurt, mind racing. The kid. Pete, he was what was important. "I think... to keep us safe and... and Pete safe—"

"Honey, it's okay," Pepper interrupted. She shook her head again, this time more forceful. "Okay, so... so here's what we'll do."

"Pep, it's fine. I'll keep him safe. Keep you safe. I just... I need..." Tony huffed out some air, annoyed at his own uselessness.

"Listen to me." She waited for Tony to give her his full attention. "What we'll do is to stay here. For a bit at least. Out of the city."

Tony leaned back, both hands raised to rub the fatigue from his face so he could try to concentrate but Pepper grabbed both of them in time.

"Stop that." She put his hands back in his lab and reached for another antibacterial wipe. "You'll just start bleeding again." With a quick glance, she checked whether she still had his attention then continued. "We're out of the NYPD's jurisdiction so whatever is left of Clarke's posse can't get to us here."

His lower lip caught between his teeth, Tony swallowed the pain as Pepper lightly dabbed at his grazed knuckles.

"I should bandage those too," she mumbled, turning his hand back and forth.

"Don't be ridiculous." His eyes blinked shut even as he was speaking. Pepper's touch was soft, loving. It was a hard contrast to Clarke's harsh grip on his skin just a couple of hours ago. He forced air into his lungs, forced his eyes to open like that would bring him back to the present. Like it would push those memories away. "I'm fine. Let's just..."

Tony stopped himself as he took in the look on Pepper's face. It wasn't pity - thank god - but deep concern for sure. Worry. Fear. Pain. All the things he would never want to see reflected in her features. Like invisible string pulling him close, Tony leaned towards her, his forehead resting against her shoulder for just a moment. A moment for him to breathe. A moment to find his strength.

"You should go and lie down." Her lips brushed against the back of his neck where his skin was still tender. "I'll talk to Brian. We'll set everything in motion. Rhodey is on his way back from Washington."

Tony grimaced at the prospect. Rhodey would be pissed. There was no doubt in Tony's mind about that. That urgent assignment Rhodey had been sent on? No doubt that it had come directly from Ross. With Rhodey out of town and far away from that courtroom, there had been little that stood in Tony's way. Yeah, Rhodey would be pissed. He'd just have to add him to the list.

"Tony?"

His mind kept wandering and he really needed to fucking focus. Focus on what was important. "I need to get the documents to the DA." Strengthening his case against Clarke, that would have to be the highest priority. With Clarke out of the way, Pete would be, well... safer.

"Okay." She pulled him a little closer. "Brian can deliver those."

His eyes fluttered shut as Pepper's fingers twirled his hair, the motion rhythmic and gentle. Just as he noticed his mind slipping did Tony make a point to get to his feet, eyelids twitching as he forced them open.

"What about Addy?" Pepper mumbled. Her chest rising with a deep sigh. "He needs you, honey."

"You said it yourself." It pained Tony more than he really wanted to let on. How could he even get rest with all this tension still standing between them? "He just wants to be alone right now."

"But he shouldn't be." Pepper had stayed seated, hands on her thighs, waiting for Tony to make a move.

"He locked me out, Pep." Despite the exhaustion in his limbs, he couldn't stay still, his legs twitching to move. "I'm the last person he wants to see right now."

"He's hurting." Pepper tried her best to be calm but all the telltale signs of her losing her patience were there. The way her fingers dug into her thighs, the deep breaths, the tension in her shoulders. "You have to be there for him now."

By all rights, he should. Not just because it was his job as a father, not just because he wanted to be the one the kid could lean on, but because this was his mess. And that was where shit got complicated. This wasn't just about him and the kid. It was about Ben Parker and all the guilt Pete had been carrying around already. All Tony had done was to make things worse. Worse than Pepper would even be aware of.

No, right now, Tony forcing the kid on anything would make only aggravate matters. "It should be you. Please." It took all his energy to push down his own pain. This was about Pete. "You're right, he shouldn't be alone and he trusts you."

"Hey, listen to me." She stood, took both his hands lightly, pulling his focus onto her. "He trusts you. He still does, I know that. Just... don't do that thing you do."

He held himself tall, tempted to pull back his hands from her grip. "I'm sorry, that thing I do?"

Pepper sniffed out a huff of air. "The thing where you keep your distance, thinking it's what the other person wants when all they need is for you to be there and catch them."

"I'm the one who did this to him, Pep." He pulled himself away from her at last, a hand ruffling through his hair like it would break him out of the subdued hold Pepper had put on him. "I'm the one who messed up here. The one who ambushed him with this and I wasn't even there in time to break the fall."

Pepper's lip trembled, her arms closely wrapped around herself. She was holding back on him. There was more she wasn't telling him.

"What did he say to you?" Tony whispered.

"It doesn't matter." Her hair bounced as she shook her head. "He needs you, Tony. I know you hate this, being the one to reach out but he needs you to and soon."

"I've tried—"

"Well, try again!" The look on her face dead serious. "Please, honey..."

Tony gave a sharp nod and she was right in front of him, holding onto him before Tony could even determine who of them had taken the first step towards each other.

"I'll be in your office. Try to get some rest and then talk to him!"

Tony grunted in response. He didn't even know how he was supposed to talk to the kid. Pete had quite literally locked him out.

"I can walk you to the quarters?"

Her hand on his back felt like home. "I think I can still find the way there on my own, Pep."

"Can, yeah..." She retreated a bit, her hands still holding onto his sides. "Will you though?"

His head cocked to the side, he pulled his face in a grimace of scandalized shock, putting a smile her lips like this routine generally managed to. "I am shocked, Pepper. Shocked!"

She leaned in, her lips softly pressed on his. "Promise me."

"I promise."

Tony had every intention of keeping that promise, too, when they separated outside of the small treatment room. As Pepper headed for his office while he shuffled back towards their rooms, he had every intention to get some rest. His head was throbbing. There was only one thing he needed more than some serious shut-eye and that was to make things right for his boy. But some things couldn't just get fixed, even with the abundance of willpower of one Tony Stark. Some things were a little more complicated than that. How was he supposed to make a kid listen that didn't even want to look at him? There was no throwing around his seniority and just demanding Pete's attention like he would do at SI and Tony doubted that Pete would be as perceptible to gummy bear bribes as Aiden had been at two years old.

Tony had little faith that things could be smoothed over that easily. Pete had already carried so much guilt and sense of responsibility, this desperate need to right a wrong when it came to Ben Parker's death. Now, he'd feel even worse. A part of Tony was almost thankful that Pete seemed to focus his wrath on him. At least he wouldn't turn it onto himself. Though that was only a matter of time. Tony knew him well enough by now to be certain that he would.

He frowned when somber voices echoed down the hallway coming from the direction of the common room that usually stayed unused now with most of the Avengers on the run or in prison. Another issue that needed solving. He shook his head. That was a problem for another day. The room it turned out was empty minus no other than Natasha Romanoff lounging on the sofa in front of the TV. She had turned on a news channel where a round table discussion of the day's event was picking up steam.

She didn't look up at him when he stepped up next to her, focused entirely on the program while she fished a single potato chip out of the family-sized bag sitting in her lap. "How's the kid?"

Tony swallowed hard, eyes on the screen. "What's happening?"

"Press conference. Any minute now," she said, popping another chip into her mouth. "You talk to him yet?"

With an annoyed little huff, he crossed his arms. "Why the sudden interest in my kid?"

"He called me."

"What?" His arms fell back to his side. There was no point in any pretense now as his eyes flashed over to her. That was impossible. She couldn't mean the kid. He had to be overreacting. "Who called you?"

Another chip muffled her response. "Pete."

Tony's blood ran cold, his body jerking in reflex. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"When you locked him in the penthouse." The crunch of another chip echoed through the room. "Asked me to break him out."

"He... he what? He fucking what?" The most infuriating part was that she didn't even look at him. He hadn't wanted to strangle her this much since— Tony pushed the thought away, fighting to keep his head on what was important. "Is that how... you fucking broke him out of—"

"Get a grip of yourself, Tony. I didn't do shit." The rustle of the bag as she fished out a whole handful of chips was like nails on a chalkboard. "Was on the other side of town." Voice muffled even more, she shrugged, eyes still on the TV. Ever since Tony had walked in, it showed the same group of talking heads analyzing the events of the day.

The youngest dude of the bunch had his forehead pulled into a frown. "With Iron Man and Captain America back on the same side, shouldn't that give us something to think about?"

Tony shook his head, trying to concentrate. Pete had managed to trick FRIDAY somehow. If it hadn't been Natasha who helped him, Tony would just have to check with FRIDAY, check the footage, then make sure it could never happen again. As long as he couldn't trust the kid to listen to the rules, to just do what Tony told him to fucking do then—

Deep breaths. His eyes shot back to the TV as he heard his own name.

"Stark has been nothing but determined to answer the public's concerns in the recent weeks." The same talking-head held a pen in his hand, pretending to point at an important note on the pad in front of him. "He was the first one out of all of them to acknowledge the human cost the Avengers' missions have claimed not to speak of the property damage though even here Stark and his relief foundation have not just been helpful. They've been a virtual lifeline for some communities, especially for the poorer neighborhoods who have suffered significantly as well."

"Oh, give me a break, Connor," the dude at the other end of the table groaned. "An eccentric billionaire is playing real-life Call Of Duty in our streets and you want to grovel at his feet and thank him for tidying up some of the mess that he is responsible for in the—"

"What the fuck are you doing, Nat?" His heart was throbbing in his chest, anger, and annoyance making his blood boil.

"Watching the news."

"What news?" He gestured at the TV. "Since when do you care about what these idiots have to say?"

"Don't be cranky, Tony. Pretty sure, you're the one who made a racket about the people's trust." She squinted, looking back and forth between the two men on the screen who argued about whether Tony was humanity's saving grace or the devil in disguise. "Plus, I really want to know if they arrested Clarke yet."

Tony couldn't help his hands twitch towards his own wrist. "They... they have."

At last, she turned towards him, eyebrows raised. "Is that true?"

His throat was dry. It was bordering on painful as he tried to swallow the nerves that were pulsing stronger and stronger in his chest.

Natasha sat up a little straighter. "You saw him get arrested?"

"Right," Tony whispered, unsure how to even feel about what had happened in that dark interrogation room.

The sense of helplessness had been paralyzing. There had been no way for him to defend himself, no way to get out of there on his own. It had washed up some uncomfortable memories. Memories he had spent years suppressing. Then there was the malicious glee that had vibrated in his chest as he took in the evidence of the fury he had left on Clarke's face. His look of dumbfounded irritation when the Commissioner had him arrested. All of it had left Tony in a whirl of emotions and memories of things he'd rather not poke at any more.

"Tony?"

The tone of her voice drew his attention back to her. He had been staring down at his wrists, at how his fingers softly ran back and forth over the torn skin and hadn't even realized what he was doing.

"You alright?"

It was the concern in her voice. Most likely. As often as Natasha had used it on him before, it got to him this time around.

"Yeah, I..." Tony swallowed again, despite the grating sensation in his throat. His eyes found hers. A foolish mistake. "I'm fine. We need to focus on—"

"What the fuck did he do to you?"

"Nothing," Tony bit out, maybe a little too fast. The way she looked at him... like at some point, someone at refitted her regular eyes with x-ray vision. It shook him more than he was comfortable to admit. "I mean, Clarke tried to have me retract. You know the..." His chin held a bit higher, chest puffed out, he stretched his arms like they were a little sore - which truthfully they were - and crossed them behind his back. He should have put on something with longer sleeves. "About my testimony."

She waited a moment like she was waiting for him to just spit it out. "About Ben Parker?"

"Right," he breathed. "I didn't."

"Good." Her eyes didn't move away from him.

"They erm... just rushed into the room and arrested him on the spot. For murder."

"Did they, now." Natasha sniffed out a huff. "Well... would you look at that." She wouldn't let up though, still reading him as if he was an open book to her and all Tony could think about was how to pull up his defenses. "Didn't think you had it in you, Tony. Lying on the stand. Not the upstanding-citizen route you've been so invested in."

"Shut up," he hissed, faster than either of them thought he would, judging by how Natasha's eyebrows rose with a flash.

She cocked her head to the side. "And with your boy right there—"

"I said, shut up!" His hands were back by his sides, balled into fists, and Tony made a conscious effort to unclench them. "Most of it was the plain truth."

"Most of it, hm? So, Clarke did kill Ben Parker then."

"Yes, he did!" It seemed important that he made that point, for his own sake, his own conscience much more than for her. Natasha would think of him whatever she wanted to think, always had no matter how hard he had tried.

Her eyes pierced him for another moment before she leaned back a little, her lips pulled into a sideways pout. "Hm." She shrugged, then turned her eyes to the TV. "Well, isn't that just convenient..."

"Excuse me? You think I'd make that up? With Pete right there? Like I would—"

"I don't mean convenient for you. I mean..." She threw up her hand, gesturing like she was looking for the right word, so very clearly more for show than for anything else. "I mean in general. For you know, the city. People." The crooked pout on her lips twitched like she actually wanted to smile.

His eyebrows knitted closely together, mouth open in wonder, Tony wasn't sure how to even respond to that. "I'm sorry, what the hell are you—"

"Shh, it's starting." Her hand rummaged in the chips bag once again, eyes gleaming with a sparkle that couldn't mean anything good.

She knew something, that much was clear and Tony dreaded to find out what. His anxiety only spiked when he recognized Reamington, the NYPD's commissioner, take the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Reamington held his head high, staring down into the cameras. "The events that took place at the New York City Criminal Court today have left us all in shock. So far, we can confirm that 2 people have died and 19 people have been injured - some of them severely."

Tony cursed. He brought his arms back up, crossed them in front of himself like that would give him some cover from this shit show. "If they pin any of this on Barnes we're in deeper shit than we were before."

But Natasha shook her head, still following Reamington's speech. "He didn't have a gun, did he."

"Right," Tony breathed, nodding to himself. That was true, plus Rogers had—

"And Steve had him occupied the whole time." She had put her snacks to the side, both hands firmly placed on the edge of the sofa like she was anchoring herself. "I don't see how they can put any of this on Barnes."

Tony didn't take his eyes off her. It was finally dawning on him. "You were there."

Her eyes still on the screen, she didn't even bother to shrug. "Obviously."

"Did... fuck, Natasha!" The dread he had felt before crept deeper into his heart, pushing his pulse only higher. "Did anyone see you?"

She gave him a look, not dignifying his question with an answer. "We need to control the narrative, Tony. Barnes can't be the story here."

"I know that!" He rubbed a hand across his face, cursing again as he irritated the cut on his cheek. "Ross will bring the hounds out on every one of us."

"Ross won't be a problem." She said it matter-of-factly, with a confidence that had him freeze.

"Nat..." There was a tremor in his voice that he couldn't push down any longer. "Natasha, what—"

Just as the question was finally going to roll off his tongue did Reamington's voice stop him in his tracks. "As there have been speculations around all this and we are aware of the severity of the situation, I will confirm that Secretary Thaddeus Ross has been among those wounded at the scene. His condition as far as we have been informed is serious. We will not be releasing any further statements at this point as this is an on-going investigation and I want to take this moment to specifically ask the press to refrain from any further speculations that might interfere with the work of the NYPD!"

"Oh god..." Flashes of hot and cold made Tony's vision blurry. His heart was racing in his ears. "What did you do? What the hell did you—"

When Natasha finally did look at him, she didn't blink, both arms crossed in front of her. "Why is it always me who gets blamed right away?"

"Jeezes, this..." Tony blew out a breath, trying to take control of the building panic that was threatening to roll over him. "This is not the time for your games. Just..." His hand reached out for the back of the couch just in time to keep his legs from giving way underneath him.

"Tony, are you... Hey!" She was on her feet before Tony had found the energy to retreat. Both her hands framed his face, turning it towards her. "Are you having a panic attack?"

"No," he lied, his voice a shaky mess. "Did you... fuck, what did you do to him?"

Her lips were pursed, the look on her face radiating disapproval. "Sit down, will you!" Her hands wandered down to his shoulders steering him to the spot on the couch she had just vacated moments earlier. "I know I said you need some rest but I didn't mean freaking yourself out into unconsciousness."

"I don't need your..." He did his best to pull himself together, to push her off, but her hands on his shoulders pressed down strong enough that his legs gave way like flimsy matches. "What happened?"

"Put your head between your knees and fucking breathe, Tony."

She hovered over him and it didn't help him fend off the looming panic surging through him, but he leaned forward anyway, closed his eyes. If nothing more, it gave him a few moments to bring order to his racing thoughts.

Her eyes were still on him when Tony pushed himself upright again, his pulse down just enough that he could hear himself think. "Did he see you?"

"Who, Ross?" Natasha gave an unmotivated shrug, not bothering to hide the crooked smirk on her lips. "Duh... Would have only been half as satisfying if he hadn't."

"You gotta be kidding me!" Any hope Tony might have had to bring the team back, to have them ready when they would be needed was slipping through his fingers right in front of him. "What if he comes for you, huh? How will we ever get out of this now?"

He expected her to have some kind of defensive ready to pretend at least, but Natasha's face didn't even twitch. "You mean, what if I had to live on the run from the law for the rest of my life? Wow, I wonder what that would be like..."

"This isn't funny! We were going to fix this, Natasha." Both hands knotted in his hair, he wanted to pace but he didn't trust his legs to keep him upright if he were to try. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that with Ross out of the picture, the snake is quite headless and we can actually try and fix this." She sighed and waved him off at last. "Even if he saw me, he won't tell anyone. Not about this, not about anything ever again."

Tony bit his lower lip, fighting against that spark of hope that should really be shock and terror instead. "What... what are you saying?"

She tilted her head at him. "You know what I'm saying." Her eyes were on him, unblinking. "I'm a very good shot."

"You..." The quiver in his voice was a surprise even to him. "You killed him?"

"Technically, the bullet killed him."

"They just..." He blew out a shaky breath, another attempt to center himself. "They just said that his status is serious. What if—"

"They are lying, Tony." She shrugged. "Well, someone is lying. You just confirmed it yourself."

He blinked once, twice, trying to keep up with where she was going but fatigue and exhaustion had pulled a thick veil around his brain. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"They arrested Clarke. You just said it. Arrested him for murder. Not attempted murder." She shrugged, way too pleased with herself. "They arrested him for murder-murder."

"What..." Tony shook his head, entirely lost now. "What does that have to do with Ross?"

She cocked her head at him, a mask of sympathy on her face. "Seriously Tony, do yourself a favor and get some sleep. You're no use to anyone like this."

He had never felt more awake though. Alarm-bells were going off in his every cell, adrenaline leaving him with cold sweat. "I'm sick of your fucking charade, Romanoff." His breaths came deeper, as controlled as he could muster. "Tell me what the fuck is going on!"

She blew out an impatient sigh. "Well, from what I heard, there was an anonymous tip, a witness who reported that they had seen Daniel Clarke shoot Secretary Ross." She paused for her smirk to deepen. "I guess it's former Secretary now." The look on Tony's face which he could only hope translated to utter horror had her sober up a bit. "Well, of course, the NYPD was very eager to exonerate their highest-ranking officer, so a very helpful nurse at the hospital suggested that they sent the bullets in and rush the ballistics report. And, well... I guess it turns out that the bullets they pulled out of Ross' body did not exonerate Clarke. Probably because they did come from his gun, so—"

"But..." Trying to remember what happened around him in that courtroom, Tony rubbed at the increasingly deepening crease between his eyebrows. "That's impossible. I saw them. I saw them both. Clarke, he..." Tony swallowed hard. His hand reached for his raw knuckles, unable not to relish in the memory of the sweet sting that had pulsed through him when they had connected with Clarke's face repeatedly. "Clarke was out cold and Ross he... he was alive when I went to help Rogers."

She shrugged. "Yeah, that sure was helpful."

"He didn't have his gun!" His knuckles stung even worse as he balled his hands into fists, sick and tired of this guessing game. "I saw him reach for it when he... he tried to shoot me and—" Tony stopped, his skin exploding with goosebumps.

"Ah, there it is!" She smirked, eagerly reaching for the bag of chips again. "And, you're welcome by the way."

Open-mouthed, he stared at her at a complete loss for words. She had taken Clarke's gun from him. In the middle of the tussle and confusion, she had managed to get her hands on that gun and if she hadn't...

Tony's throat burned as he swallowed hard. "You framed Clarke."

"Hey..." Her eyebrows raised, she pulled a hand up in feinted innocence. "I just followed your example."

"I didn't frame him for murder!"

"Yeah, you only framed him for the attempted murder of your son."

"That's not..." Tony sucked in a breath, hands grabbing the sofa cushion tightly. It wasn't the same, was it? He had proof that Clarke had actually committed worse crimes and Tony hadn't committed any crimes himself to do that, well, minus the perjury. And the hacking. And having Clint search the Parkers' apartment. He had only done what was necessary to protect his family.

His eyes flickered up at her and Natasha didn't shy away. "He's a murderer, Tony. From what you just told me, you're lucky you didn't become his next victim."

"Right," he mumbled. "But you didn't know that."

"It's not the plan I went in there with."

"Oh yeah?" Another deep breath and Tony attempted to shake some of the shock from his bones. "What plan was that?"

"To stop you." She said it friendly enough, but Tony had no doubts about how far she might go to protect her own family. She shrugged like his thoughts were written on his face. "I would have gone for a little less permanent solution in your case."

He stared up at her, not sure if he really believed her.

"Come on. I wouldn't shoot you. Not like that." Her head tilted to the side, eyebrows raised just enough to convey sincerity, she reluctantly elaborated. "Your kid would have never forgiven himself. If I would have... stopped you. Like that."

Tony huffed out what sounded like a laugh even to himself. "You really think I'd believe any of that."

"Believe it or not. We have more pressing issues." She shoved a last hand of chips into her mouth then dropped the bag back on the couch, mumbling through the food. "You need to hand over your files on Clarke to the DA."

"Just, hold on a moment." Tony shook his head, not ready to move on. "Framing Clarke is one thing but Ross, I mean, he..." It wasn't right, was it? To just kill a man like that. He had his fair share of blood on his hands but this...

She wiped the back of her hand across her lips, the sparkle in her eyes gone, replaced by a sober stare. "Ross tried to make you murder Barnes, Tony. He threatened your boy's life, he threatened you and Steve. Don't even get me started on everything he did to Bruce." She waved her hand at him like it would wave away whatever reservations he had. "He's solely responsible for the damn Raft and do you know how long Clint hasn't seen his kids? How much longer they would have been separated if Ross had a say in it? It was the only way to stop him."

Tony swallowed hard. He wouldn't deny that Ross hadn't been a problem. A danger to them all. Even if it would be enough to warrant this though, it could make matters even worse. "That courtroom was full of people! What... what if someone saw you, what—"

"This was not my first rodeo, Tony."

"Sir, Colonel Rhodes is on his way to you."

With a grimace, Natasha jumped up from her seat. "Well, that's my cue then."

"Wait, hold on..." But she was already stalking towards the back door leading towards the training rooms. "Natasha... what the hell am I supposed to do with all this?"

"You do whatever you think is right." She waved a hand over her shoulder without bothering to turn. "I'll be in touch!"

The echo of her feet had was drowned out by the voices of the talking-heads discussing Reamington's statement. Even without that, she had slipped out of the room long before Rhodey's slower steps announced his arrival. Tony took a moment to settle his nerves. It had only been minutes since the press conference had ended and Ross' fate still seemed to be a tight-kept secret. He had no way to know how much Rhodey knew already and no strength to go through all of this again.

Still, it came as a surprise when Rhodey didn't rush straight towards him. Instead, headed for the kitchen.

"FRI," Tony muttered. "Turn that off."

Without another comment, FRIDAY followed his order. The silence that followed only added to Tony's discomfort though. He hadn't planned any of this. It wasn't how he had wanted to solve shit. Still, this is where they were at now.

Hands shoved into his pockets, he forced his legs to move. "Hi, Platypus. Welcome home."

First, there was no response from Rhodey whatsoever, only the clinking and clanking of tableware and cupboard doors. Then he opened his mouth, his voice raspy. "Pepper will blow a gasket if she finds you here."

"She won't if you don't tell her..." Tony followed the quick motion of Rhodey's hands as he flicked on the coffee maker, then placed two cups underneath it. The hearty smell of freshly grounded coffee beans had Tony's mouth water. Surely, one cup couldn't hurt...

"Don't even think about it. These are for me and Pepper." The coffee was steaming hot as it poured out of the machine into the waiting cups. "Hey, eyes up here!" Rhodey had his back against the edge of the table, arms crossed on his chest. "You're supposed to be resting."

"I know. I am. I mean..." Tony grimaced. "I was. Going to, but then—"

Rhodey groaned. "Honestly, if I hear another 'but' out of you, I'll lose my fucking mind." He had pushed himself away from the table and turned back towards the cupboard. Tony's hopes that he might be reaching for another cup were crushed when Rhodey went for a glass instead, filled it with water and pressed it into Tony's hand. "Drink that."

Tony was about to speak, to protest but the crease between Rhodey's brows deepened, convincing him otherwise. He clapped his lips shut instead and took the glass. It was cold in his hand, goosebumps erupting on his arm. Not due to the temperature though, Tony knew himself well enough to rule that out. It was the exhaustion taking its turn on him. So he listened, drowned the glass in one only to have Rhodey snatch it from him. He filled it to the brim again and held it out for Tony to take.

A pout on his lip that would be fitting for a five-year-old, Tony had his eyes on the glass. "Do you want me to rest or do you want me to run to the bathroom every 20 minutes?"

"Drink the damn water, Tony."

Reluctantly, Tony took the glass. He hadn't felt this babied in... well, a long time, but his mind was like cotton candy, fluffy and sticky, just barely able to hold him upright. The water was soothing as it ran down his throat and no less pleasing for his mind. Still, he set the empty glass on the counter well out of Rhodey's reach.

"Listen, about what happened at the courthouse—"

Rhodey blew out a sigh. "Just get some rest, Tony." He picked up both coffee cups and turned, heading back towards the office.

He was quick to follow Rhodey down the corridor just a couple of steps behind him. His tongue ran back and forth over the split on the inside of his lower lip, still tender from where Tony had bit down and broken his skin earlier. The sting of it was almost enjoyable, sharpening his senses. It was just before the corridor that forked off towards the lab separating them that Tony cleared his throat.

"You... not mad?"

Rhodey froze. "Oh, I'm mad." The sharp glance he sent over his shoulder had a shiver roll down Tony's back. "I'm fucking livid with you Anthony fucking Stark, make no mistake. I also know that we don't have time for me to rip your head off right now so go and get some fucking rest."

His chest deflated as he looked after Rhodey, who was heading down the hallway without another glance at him. Tony really had made a right mess of things. It had been some time since he had let the people he loved most down this universally. And the worst part was yet to come. Rhodey and Pepper... they'd forgive him. They'd listen and they'd move on. This was still far from the worst thing he had done over the years. They were mostly mad about the situation Tony had put himself in. That he hadn't shared his plan, hadn't asked for support like he was supposed to. They were worried for him.

Pete... The situation with his kid was a lot worse than that. This had hurt him. Tony had hurt him. Locking him in, that had been something he had prepared himself to make amends for. He would have apologized, promised to do better in the future.

That wouldn't be enough now. He would have to think of something better to do and the fact that his mind refused to come up with any ideas in the state it was in now, was the reason he had decided to listen to Pepper in the first place. The reason, he had accepted that he needed some rest before he could fix this.

And Tony would fix this. He would give Pete a couple more hours to himself, to hopefully calm down and then they would talk and he would just... say the right things and they would move on from this.

Or at least that had been the plan. The plan that went to pieces as soon as Tony opened to door to his quarters. What Tony hadn't accounted for was that he'd run into the kid before his strung-out mind could get a moment to reboot. Before Tony had even fully entered the room, Pete had stormed out of his own room, eyes on him and filled with rage.

"You killed him, didn't you?"

Tony was slow to move his hands up, signaling for calmness. "Pete..."

But there was nothing calm about the kid, his hands balled into fists by his side, shoulders heaving with heavy breaths. "Did you kill him?"

Tony swallowed hard, trying to center himself. "Of course I didn't."

"Don't lie to me!" Pete took another step towards him, his face red with fury. "Not again, I—"

"Barnes is not dead," Tony barked, harsher than he had intended. "Or he wasn't when they marched me and Rogers off anyway."

Pete studied him, eyes cold and so unlike him. "What, so you tried to kill Ross instead?"

"No, Pete. I didn't try to kill Ross. I didn't try to kill anyone!" He brushed a hand through his hair, trying to keep his temper in check. "Is that what you think of me? That I just go around and murder people?"

But Tony's depleted tone was not met with the mellowed response he had expected. Instead, Pete's face seemed to turn a little darker still, eyebrow knitted together in harsh anger. "How would I know?" His lip was trembling but his eyes were straight on Tony. "It's not like you bother to tell me. Or anyone else. I don't really know what you would or wouldn't do anymore."

Something flickered in his chest that Tony refused to believe was his heart skipping a beat. "Listen, I know you're angry right now and I'm sorry that—"

"Angry... you think I'm angry?"

Tony pressed his lips together tightly, wracking his brain to find the right words to say. "Last night, when we talked, I didn't know—"

"Last night..." Pete's jaw cracked. "You mean when I asked you not to go down there? When I begged you not to go and you promised me you wouldn't?"

His eyes stung, heart racing. "That's not what I promised you, kid! I promised I would figure this out and I did!"

"You promised we would talk about this!"

Tony spread his arms wide, blinking profusely. "And here we are!"

"People died!"

Tony's arms dropped to his side. "People died because they were trying to shoot Rogers and Barnes and instead hit each other!" He shook his head in annoyance, desperate to get Clarke's face out of his mind. The way he had stood over him. How close he had been to personal disaster. "I tried to stop that but these people are completely unreasonable. That's what happens when people don't listen!"

Pete huffed out a dry laugh. "It's always you who knows best, isn't it?"

"As opposed to who? You?" Tony slammed his mouth shut, regretting the words even as they rolled off his tongue. "Listen, I..." He blew out a breath, struggling to keep his temper in check. "I know you're pissed at me and that's fine. I get that. I deserve that, but this..." Tony gestured at him, hand flapping around in uncoordinated circles. "Let's just not, right now, okay? Please, kid... I... I'm sorry, okay?"

"Stop saying that," he growled. "I know, you're not."

Tony's shoulders sacked, desperation pulsing through him. "Of course, I am. I didn't want things to unravel like this."

"Not as much as you wanted things your way." Pete's eyes were dry, hard with unwavering seriousness. "They were right, all of them. I should have known."

"Kid, come on..." Tony took a step towards him, determined to make this stop. "If I could have done things differently—"

"You could have," Pete hissed. "You could have just stopped."

Tony shook his head. "And let them get away with it? You telling me you don't want Clarke to pay for what he did?" He took another step towards him. "It was the one shot I had to nail Clarke to the wall. If I hadn't—"

"Why, is all the evidence you said you have gonna disappear at midnight?"

Tony swallowed hard. His wounds forgotten, he spread his hands out towards Pete, trying to soothe him. "It's not that easy, okay? It—"

"You didn't do this because of Clarke, you did it get the heat off Rogers, off Barnes!"

"That's not—" Tony stopped himself. It wasn't untrue. "I needed to catch them off-guard."

"Then why didn't you just take it to the judge, huh? To the... to the DA?" Pete was visibly shaking, his eyes narrowed to slits. "You just wanted to make a spectacle, to be the damn center of attention."

Tony's lips were parted but his mouth only flapped open and closed like a fish in need of water, at a loss for words.

"I was such an idiot, I thought that you actually cared but they are all right." Pete's voice was trembling. His knuckles were white from how hard he clenched his hands into fists. "You're exactly what they say you are!"

"Yeah, and what is that, hm?" Tony's pulse was throbbing in his ears. "What am I, kid?"

"A selfish prick," Pete breathed. "You don't give a fuck about what anyone else wants. You only care about what you want."

Tony gasped for air, his insides cramping as if he had been dealt a blow right to his stomach. "Oh, yeah? So unlike you, right? You would never just flout what people ask of you and do whatever the fuck you want, would you? You promised to stay out of trouble and the first thing you do is break out of the penthouse?"

For the first time since Pete had stormed out of his room, he flinched back from Tony. The bright shade of red on his face only intensified though. "Well, I had a great role model, didn't I?"

Each word hit Tony squarely in the chest, more painful than any energy blast the Chitauri had thrown at him. "Yeah, your aunt truly taught you well. Maybe they'll find an empty cell right next to hers for you."

Even before the kid's face fell, Tony knew that he had taken it too far.

"That... I'm sorry—"

"I'm leaving."

He had said it quietly. So quietly in fact, at first Tony had thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

"You're not." Tony had meant to sound strong but his voice was only a breathless whisper.

"I am." Pete stood tall. Taller than he had any right to stand, chin held high, his eyes fierce. "I'm not staying here. You can't stop me."

Every cell in his body screamed for Tony to reach for him, a knee-jerk reaction to make him stay where he was like Tony could actually force him to. "You'll do no such thing!"

Just the thought of the kid disappearing on him again... not knowing where Addy was, where Pete was... it made his heart painfully clench.

"Why shouldn't I, huh?" He was getting louder and somehow that felt better, more like a teenage tantrum than a real threat. "You fucked off to California and left me here."

Tony's throat was tight. "I tried to protect you."

"I never wanted your protection! I never asked for this! I wish you'd never even found me!"

Pete's voice was clear, sharp enough to draw blood. Tony was almost surprised when he looked down at his own chest, his arms, and didn't see dark spots where his blood was pooling. The pain was real though, paralyzing. All he managed was to keep himself upright as Pete turned on his heel and slammed the door of his room shut behind him.

The metallic click of the locking mechanism echoed like a gunshot.

###

[author's note:

Thank you guys for reading and a big thank you to everyone who is leaving comments for me. I love them even if I have not been able to keep up with answering recently, do know that they definitely make me write and publish a little faster ;)

Once again, I want to thank you Spagbol99 for all her help with this chapter! Go and check out the new IronDad story she's started to put up recently!

And lastly, come and say Hi! on my tumblr (MsHermia) if you like :) I usually post sneak peeks about the upcoming chapters!]