A/N: Longest chapter to date, but I really wanted all of Christmas to be together. I'd like to thank everyone for their patience because this has been a rough couple of months (two years), but I'm proud to say we are just on the cusp of THREE YEARS since I first had this idea (Feb 9th). Thank you so much for reading!
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT—December 25th, 2039
She could still remember Samantha this small as if it were yesterday. Howie's fingers blindly grasped at the bottle he greedily drank in Pep's arms. After an incident involving a tantrum that turned his crib to molten goo beneath him—and a very shocked nanny-agent—Tony had cured their son of Samantha's main strain of Extremis. Pepper felt it unsafe to take the infant into the mirror to visit his sister, and Tony vehemently agreed, especially after one more concerning development.
Outside of Tony's interview with Cushing, Natasha had informed Pepper that Wanda's bond with the Mind Stone led her straight to Samantha…and Captain Barnes…together. Even across the dimensional veil, Wanda only sensed it because Sam was using the stone. Nat may have tiptoed around the details, but the implication remained that Barnes was now under the stone's control.
Pepper suppressed her disappointment in that one word: together. Her daughter didn't need a distraction. Sam needed her mother and her father. She needed to get away from this mess.
Tony held up two enormous bags."Ok, I see your point. All this wouldn't have fit in the Bugatti's trunk."
Pepper unlatched Howie from the empty bottle and gave it to Steve. Sharon waited patiently to take the baby when Pep was ready to leave, but Wong hadn't arrived yet.
"Thank you both for coming back so soon. I hate to put you out of house and home."
"Lil'guy is worth it. Don't worry." Sharon touched Howie's little socked feet with a smile. Pep gently transferred him to drape over the waiting burp cloth.
Natasha arrived at their suite, dressed in her sparring clothes and a baton at her hip, ready for 'cognitive recalibration,' her term for handling the active nature of the Mind Stone. If Pepper could say she knew, really knew, her daughter, she would say there was no way her Sammy would use an infinity stone to control anyone, much less a friend who suffered from that torture before. Pep only knew though Missy's insight—much the way Sam learned about Tony through watching tabloid coverage and his shop logs—but that involved no emotion, no humanity. Mistress only had a basic idea of Samantha's infatuation with the captain; the AI had clocked her heart rate spikes and some evasive body language at his mention or presence, incapable of interpreting what those signs meant.
"Hill got a courtesy call from News7. They're announcing you're back. Today," Nat confessed in a low voice before her brow kicked up. "Seems you're the Christmas miracle this year."
Pepper knew this would come, but she'd hoped for more time, more time to recover, more time to adjust, more time to understand. The now grey-haired Black Widow nodded and placed a hand on her baton in case Barnes fought back when separated from Samantha. Pepper let her face fall in sympathy. Fourteen years ago, Natasha was struggling with her own wishy-washy relationship with Captain Barnes; how the tables had turned.
"May I, Madame?" Tony held up a choker necklace with a large sapphire set into a strip of conductive fabric. Bags set at his feet, her husband lifted it over Pep's head to tie at her throat. She turned back to him when it was secure. "SkinShield, patent-pending," Tony said with a smile, adjusting his own watch. "For yours—" he depressed the button aside the gold watch face "—a two-second hold to activate and deactivate. Can't eat or drink with it 'on,' but it'll do. Go ahead and test it."
Pepper touched the sapphire for two beats. The only noticeable change was a gentle tingle that stretched beneath her clothing all over. She shivered.
"I'll take that as a 'yes?'" Tony shivered, too, and took up the bags again. "Aren't you glad I wasn't touchy-feely all this time? She might not even notice. When is—"
A sizzling noise interrupted him, and Wong stepped forward, messenger bag across his chest, a thick, short staff balanced beneath a large wrapped box with an aggressively festive bow. His head peeked around the curled green strands.
"Wonderful. Thank you," Pepper rushed to take the bulky but lightweight present. "How's Laura? Lila and the kids were there?"
Wong nodded. "Oh yes. Eggnog all around. The little ones are…energetic." He smoothed a broad hand over his belly and tightened the strap of his messenger bag, clearing his throat and lifting the staff. "The Wand of Wacoomb. Just a precaution. Are we ready?"
The room's energy sank in solemnity.
Steve stepped forward, whispering. "We'll talk to him. Buck will see reason."
Pepper took one last glance at Howie in Sharon's arm, thrown by the younger woman now being technically older.
Wong spun his free hand in front of the wand and a portal appeared to a bright, snow-covered lawn. When the sparkling circle stopped growing, he tossed a hand up, and the air shattered, obscuring the view of the Rogers house beyond.
Tony shifted with the bags. "I guess that solves the 'which came first' question. The interspacial the interdimensional wormhole?" Tony shrugged out a sigh and stepped forward. Pepper followed.
Together, the two were right there on the front step, waiting. Barnes stood straighter when he met Pepper's eye, removing his hand from the small of Samantha's back. Beaming and oblivious to the retraction, her daughter bounced excitedly on bare feet, her oversized sweatshirt a hideous yellow, a stack of composition books clutched to her chest.
Sam barely looked at Pepper. She made a beeline straight for Tony and held up the notebooks immediately.
"Hey, Dad! I've got everything ready for you—" Sam stopped, melting the snow underfoot. "—and the stuff about Annihilus is all in there, so we should—"
"Presents," Tony broke in, lifting the bags between them. "Merry Christmas, kiddo."
"Yeah, right," she startled, "um, this is yours 'cause there's also—"
Barnes stepped forward while Samantha babbled on to Tony. He offered his arms to carry Pepper's box with a boyish grin. "I can take that in, ma'am?"
Pep didn't release her hold, instead using her CEO stare to assess him. "No."
His eyes were blue, but they always were. Though Clint's eyes had shown extreme change when the Scepter took over his mind, Thor admitted years ago that Loki, too, was under the stone's influence with only a hue of visible change. It was impossible to tell on the captain. As much as she hated the idea of her daughter with him, Pepper believed Barnes didn't deserve a life chained to the will of the Council or one moment longer without his free will. She would not wish what he'd been through on anyone. He just should not be here.
"Not necessary," Tony chirped. "Show me the tree?"
Sam didn't seem to notice Barnes shrinking in confusion beside her and turned in the warming grass to lead her father inside.
Ready to follow, Barnes dug his hands into his pockets.
"Actually, Captain," Pep said lightly, shifting to show the still open portals and Wong behind her. "Natasha's waiting. Debriefing, you understand."
Barnes swallowed hard, the soldier's gaze darting between her and Wong and the open portal.
"We deserve some time as a family, don't you think," Pepper added firmly, pursing her lips in a strained smile. She watched him scan over her festive sweater, the necklace at her throat, her red lipstick. His face was all hesitance and blank indecision until he turned to see Samantha already closing the door behind her and Tony, but then Barnes looked back to Pep with a corner of lip turned up and a crinkling by his eyes. She didn't care that he seemed protective or encouraging. Too old for my baby girl.
After another long moment, Barnes nodded and mumbled, "of course, Mrs. Stark. I'll get out of your hair. Merry Christmas." He wove his broad shoulders between them and stepped past the threshold to HQ. Surprised he didn't turn one last time to look at the house, Pep hoped it went smoothly for Nat and Steve on the other side.
Wong shut the portals and went to hold the front door, fussing a moment when hanging winter coats stopped his kind gesture. Pepper entered sideways to fit the box from Laura through. The house was beautiful and warm, lights strung across the crown molding along the whole great room and foyer. As she placed the present with others below the tree, Tony rushed over from the kitchen.
"Ok, be cool," he twitched, glancing back.
"Who wants coffee?" Sam called as she depressed the plunger of a large French Press. "Don't worry, Mom. I know you prefer tea." The wiggle of her daughter's head and widening eyes implied judgment, and Pep smirked until she looked down to the table.
Each plate sat piled with pancakes dotted with red and sprinkled with fruit.
Strawberries.
Sam poured three cups before shuffling around the counter. "Uh—" she picked up two foil pouches "—herbal or green tea?" Her face fell when she turned back around. "Where's Buck?"
Pep put on a brave face and took the seat in front of an empty mug. "Just debriefing with Natasha. Don't worry, Sammy."
Her daughter's dark eyes swirled with shock. "No one—" Sam shook her head, blinking "—sorry, no one calls me that."
I do. Your mom does. Pepper so desperately wanted to smooth her daughter's hair and hold her for hours until her baby girl knew how much she loved her, how devastated Pep was to have missed so much, how elated she felt to be in Sam's presence and see the young woman she'd become. She couldn't reach out. She offered a heavy smile and just said "herbal is fine."
Sam composed herself, pulling out a teabag. After pouring hot water over the sachet, she bobbed it by its string with long fingers—my fingers, Pep recognized, didn't inherit Tony's thick ones—and eyed Wong sitting down in the fourth seat.
The sorcerer rubbed his hands together over the stack of pancakes, wand laying at the edge of the table. "This looks excellent. Happy Christmas and thank you to the chef." Wong lifted a mug of black coffee to cheers Samantha, fond contentment on his broad face.
"That's Buck's spot." Sam looked at Wong who drank anyway. "And he's the one to thank. I can't cook."
"Then let's not waste his hard work, kiddo. Bureaucratic stuff takes forever. Sit?" Tony pulled the chair out from behind Sam. Wong was already a quarter of the way through his plate, mumbling praise.
Pepper stared warily at the red dripping down the stack's side.
"Ok then. We have strawberry pancakes," Sam chirped with excitement, "because my favorite dessert is strawberries and cream, so Buck made it breakfast…Brunch? Late…whatever meal. We don't much live by the clock here." She shrugged, giggling.
Pepper wilted behind a practiced smile. "Looks beautiful." Didn't inherit my allergy either. Tony dutifully grabbed her plate and scraped its contents onto his own. Wong motioned to take one for the team if Tony was offering.
Raising a questioning brow, Sam happily cut out a bite. "What?"
"Nothing, sweetheart. Don't worry about it."
"It's really good. See, here, try." Sam scooped up the soaked forkful and stood to lean it across the table.
Pep waved her hand out. "That's ok, hun—"
"Seriously, I promise," she reached closer. "You'll like it."
"Kid, don't—"
Pepper scooted her chair back, but the fork kept coming. "Sammy, STOP," Pep yelled as she smacked her daughter's hand, fork flying to bounce off the tile countertop and fall with a clatter by the patio doors. The noise rang out in echoing silence. Tony went sheet-white and wide-eyed.
The tingle from Pep's SkinShield subsided, keeping its three-millimeter gap between them.
Sam just stared in shock.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sammy." Pep worked to slow her breathing, clasping her hands in her lap. "But I'm allergic, sweetheart."
Sam straightened back up across the table, staring down. "Oh, I didn't…know that."
"Technically, you might not be with Extremis," Tony muttered before Pep could smooth it over.
"I'll just have my tea. It's fine, sweethea—"
"NO." Sam slapped her hand over the mug, accidentally pressing hard enough to crack the ceramic and spill the hot contents across the tabletop. She looked up to Pepper in guilty horror for a split second before a blue ring glowed around her irises. Sam lifted her unburned, uncut hand from the pool of liquid. Her eyes faded back to brown. "Mixed berry," she shrugged with a suddenly casual air, "was supposed to go well with… Let me get a towel."
Wong, one hand on the wand by his plate, tilted another platter in the center of the table towards Pepper. "Bacon?"
She wondered if it was a mistake that they didn't tell the sorcerer about the Mind Stone, but they had to keep it secret as long as possible.
Pep took the hand-towel Sam placed in the spill and dabbed water from her clothing, but no water touched her skin while her choker was active. She mopped up the rest of the tea from the table. Likely, Tony was right and even the steeped strawberry in the tea would not have caused a reaction, but Pep had panicked. Ninety-nine percent of her life she'd had to avoid only one food, and it was all over the table.
She tossed an apologetic glance to her husband. Tony reciprocated on his way back from picking the fork off the floor and tossing it in the sink. He pressed the button on his watch before digging into his food.
Pep jumped when Sam plopped down a clean plate and a giant bottle.
"Champagne?" She smiled.
"You aren't old enough—"
Sam pointed an accusatory finger at Tony. "He handed me a glass at a wedding once, and that was just like eighteen months ago."
Tony stabbed a bite. "Traitor."
"Was a good party," Wong muttered, adding some bacon to his pile.
"But you're right," Sam wavered sarcastically, dragging the bottle to her side of the table. "Not old enough to drink, but totally fine that I saved the whole planet from nine evil alien spaceships."
"NINE?" Tony almost swallowed his tongue.
"Sammy," Pepper started with a huff, "some of those ships were not portaled like you and Missy intended." She stopped herself from turning off her SkinShield and abandoned the bacon on her plate.
"Well, Thanos is still dead last time I ch—"
"Nine!" Tony flailed, ignoring Sam's addition.
"I told you that," Pepper snapped, deciding to put the champagne back in the fridge.
"You said 'several.' Nine's twice as many as we thought, and you—" he pointed at Sam, rising from his chair, voice lower and sharp "—you drank that whole bottle of—"
"Dad," Sam whined, "don't be a narc."
"Should I…?" Wong sipped his coffee, pointing at the living room.
Tony and Sam swatted at the same time, dismissing the idea.
"I'm just gonna…" Wong continued his meal. Pepper brought the French Press back over and refilled his mug and Tony's.
Pepper fiddled with the choker, weighing her options to eat or go right to opening gifts. Wong's plate was clean, Tony's mostly so, and Sam's over half done by means of a spoon instead. In all honesty, this was going better than expected, but the sharp pang of uncertainty lodged low in Pep's gut. Maybe champagne would be a good idea. She poured the last of the coffee into Sam's mug. "Go ahead and finish up, Sammy, then we've got tons of presents."
"You know you don't have to do that, right?" Sam looked through her eyelashes at Pep. "Mother me."
A shiver ran up Pep's spine as a chilling realization hit: Samantha didn't save Pepper to save Pepper. Pepper was here for Tony. This was all meant to save Tony, to make Tony happy, to show Tony what Sam could do for him. The callous ease with which Sam focused on her father but barely acknowledged Pep was notable. Champagne and tea were her daughter's best try.
Pepper deactivated her SkinShield, munching on bacon and sipping water in silence while father and daughter talked over her. The reasons were obvious. Mistress kept text files of Sam's thirteenth Christmas, where Tony reprised the selection-from-a-room-of-junk gift, and her fourteenth consisted of just a video call from her new apartment with Cooper Barton. Coop went home while Sam stayed, not having completed her physical rehab after the bike accident. Afraid Tony would notice a limp and her new scars, Sam remained planted at her computer chair during the call. Mistress took a cue from Tony's prying about whether Sam was alone and the AI used virtual reality projections of two fellow students to trick him. All Sam had to do was turn to the door as if they were really there.
"Reminds me of my MIT days. Go have fun—but not too much fun," he'd said before Missy ended the call, "that'll be your present to me."
Tony had no idea that Samantha couldn't even give him that gift. She'd just suffered through her range-of-motion exercises and curled into bed watching test footage from Mark XIII until falling asleep.
A satisfied sigh and clattering fork wrenched Pepper out of her reverie. Conversation had halted.
"Presents?" she repeated tentatively, pressing the sapphire again.
"Sure, but—" Sam looked at Tony "—whoops. I already gave…the notebooks are kinda your…"
He waggled eyebrows at his wife, shrugging. "She and I already exchanged gifts yesterday—"
"Ew." Sam stuck out her tongue as if the milk in her coffee just curdled in her mouth.
"Tony!" Fourteen years and not a stitch more mature.
"What? I just meant that I don't have anything for you to open right now."
"Aaaand we're all caught up on childhood trauma," Sam muttered while Wong snorted. Tony tossed his napkin onto his plate. The sorcerer returned his attention to the hefty, ancient tome from his bag.
Sam laughed and situated herself on the floor by the tree. The family followed, SkinShields reactivated.
Pepper relished every second, the three of them together, and just for a few minutes, Pep felt like she'd missed nothing at all. Traditions were upheld, jokes continued, noisy and drenched in the twinkle of lights. Laura had helped Pepper acquire the requisite first gift: underwear. Tony nearly fainted at the colored bras included in Mr. Brum's variety of flame-proof delicates, while Pepper frowned at Sam's bare feet and noted that socks should be the next thing commissioned from the tailor.
So peaceful, so normal, almost like their house had never been touched by genius or powers or magical stones, Pepper couldn't burst the bubble of holiday happiness by bringing up the Council. They'd ruled enough of the family's life until now; we deserve this day. Tony's glances at her seemed to agree.
Sammy pulled out a stack of cards left from her party. The first of her forgotten birthday wishes was a hand-drawn pair of stick figures atop a hill, one with an added circle like a belly.
"Oh wow," Sam sighed, clasping a hand over her mouth, "I miss Emery."
Tony leaned forward to Pepper. "Butterball from Rhodey's–"
"I know," Pep mouthed back. Seeing the obvious care for the young, unfortunately-turned boy gave her hope for how protective and devoted Sammy might be to her brother, whenever they could meet in safety.
Tony paused and let Sam enjoy the picture a moment longer before prodding, "Mom next?"
Her daughter slid over a well-wrapped cube, not as light as the underwear.
Pepper unwrapped the gift slowly before lifting one of the Louboutin heels from the box, a lapis suede body with the signature red sole. Their colors, the family colors, together.
Sam bounced on the floor, clearly pleased. "Buck helped me pick 'em. Kinda. We went to get them in the city."
Of course, from all that same footage, all those same interviews, all Sam knew was Pepper wore blue and heels a lot. Pep always avoided giving personal interviews and talking about her family, never thinking being private could be a problem. I should have two teens by now, Pepper mused, replacing the shoe in its paper, and my children should know I'm more than my fashion choices.
"They're lovely."
Sam scratched the back of her head. "Although, Wong," she asked, turning, "what's the object permanence situation between dimensions?" The man at the table chuckled but continued reading. Sam whispered to Tony, "because no one could see us and there was no way to pay, ya know, like we can't send texts, so we basically had to steal them, like the groceries." She shrugged at Pepper. "Also, sorry if they vanish when you walk through…"
Tony laughed. "I'll send them a check."
"That's your father's thing," Pep teased.
Tony nodded, petting his beard. "That is my thing."
"Well, I don't have checks and I'm not a big shopper," Sam added. "Guess I'm not Tony Stark."
Tony snapped and pointed his finger. "Title of your autobiography."
"Ah," Sam squeaked in jest, "you just gotta have your name on everything."
Pepper switched the big bags in front of Sam. "My gift and your father's."
Sam pulled out a slim, wide box, velvet all over and folded on top with a snap closure. As if sensing the contents were important, Sam delicately peeled back the crossing covers to reveal a ruby heart along a silver chain laced with sharp, irregular pieces. Sam gasped.
Tony grabbed for Pep's hand without thinking, but they both released once realizing they couldn't feel each other, fearing Sam might see the half-centimeter gap between their flesh. The SkinShields wouldn't let them any closer, but Sam didn't notice. She lifted the center pendant in her hand, running her thumb slowly over the many facets.
"Sammy, that's the shrapnel from around your dad's heart. He had that made for me, for a Christmas, actually. The one where…I last had Extremis," Pep explained through a closing throat. This was all wrong. Her family's Christmas should be so much less complicated than this.
"What shrapnel?" Sam rolled her fingers over the chain without looking up.
Beside Pep, Tony's body language imploded. Just as she avoided personal interviews, Tony always avoided admitting weaknesses, even past ones. To Samantha, her father was a hero, indestructible, infallible. Any failures were simply stepping stones to greatness. As flawed as her husband was, Pepper longed to show their daughter the complicated, caring, sensitive side of the man, not the hero.
Tony raised wilting eyes to Pepper, begging her not to explain. Sammy deserved to know the real tragedies her family survived, things that shouldn't be repeated, things to learn from, but Pep loved this moment with them, with smiles and shredded wrapping paper and warm light. She could wait for the rest. Lessons were for another day. They'd have time in Alaska.
"Nevermind, Sammy. Go ahead. Put it on."
Sam grinned, wiping away one layer of guilt from the thick pile filling Pep's insides. The heart rested just below the tungsten of Tandy's gift, a circular medallion, etched with "tAndy" and "sAm" on either side, the Avengers' "A"—the Stark "A", Pep reminded herself—bold in both of their names. Sam covered both with a fond, loving hand.
"Now you have a family heirloom," Pep cooed, "that isn't your father's sass."
Everyone chuckled. Tony mouthed a 'thank you.'
"Best for last," he bellowed, sticking his tongue out playfully.
Sam gasped when she pulled the sleeve out. Smooth and shiny, with little veins of gold between concentrators and adapters, the dark material fascinated her.
"It's meant to channel and amplify your energy like the vibranium in the other arm, but it can't release energy through it." Tony shrugged. "Even you out, ya know."
Sam didn't need to be prompted to try that gift out. She yanked off her sweatshirt, revealing the top portion of Johnny Storm's suit. Pepper sighed, thankful her daughter would now have (mostly) proper clothing to wear.
Sam pulled the sleeve up to her shoulder with a bit of struggling, frantically removing the two necklaces to clip the strap securely around her neck. Pepper snapped both inside the velvet case loops for safekeeping then tried not to make a face at the vibranium cuff on Sam's right wrist, knowing full well its significance.
"Feels weird," Sam mumbled, stretching her elbow out a few times before reattaching the fastener at her middle finger. "It's…way more restrictive."
"I only had a week," Tony countered with indignation.
"No! Of course, it's great, Dad. Thank you." Sam let her skin heat in order to watch the circuit board tapestry light up along her whole arm. She touched the fabric with her other hand. "Oh wow, there's like no heat transfer, huh?"
"Well, if that's all the gifts, how about we take that for a spin?" Tony jumped up, startling Wong who grabbed his wand.
Sam launched off the floor, too, wiggling her eyebrows. "Awesome. I gave Buck his gift last night, too, so no need to wait."
Tony froze.
"It was a dance," she whispered in deadpan. "I learned a dance."
Pepper wondered if that was still a euphemism.
Sam finally broke into a giggle. "Like an old-timey slow dance."
Tony stubbornly relaxed. "I…guess I deserved that." He walked with Sam over to the patio doors, motioning for Wong to stand down as Tony pressed his watch and pulled the nano casing out of his pocket. The Iron Man suit spread across his body by the time he touched the door handle.
Perhaps he'll have better luck talking to her…
"Ever played H.O.R.S.E., kiddo?"
The first game was a warmup. Tentative. Evaluating. Tony stared at the scan in his HUD, grateful she couldn't see his reaction.
Radiation. Lots of it. Radiation pumping out of two glowing spots buried in Sam's left side. She didn't just have the Mind Stone; the Space Stone sat wedged right beneath it. He couldn't tell how much she was using their power or if it was hurting her. Tony blinked away the scan filter to show Sam grinning like an idiot, ecstatic.
She excitedly assessed the material of the sleeve. It felt a little thick, it had pinch points, and it pulled on her neck. She would have to get used to having no way to vent heat or energy through it, except that is its purpose. As competitive as Tony could be, he found it satisfying to boost his daughter's ego and missed his last shot. That let him retract his helmet and watch as Sam celebrated with an awkward, wonderfully joyous dance.
She rushed the few feet between them to hold up her hand.
"It used to hurt more—" Sam ran a finger down the lifeline near her other thumb "—the beam used to actually breakthrough. Rip the skin each time. But since I got back? Look."
Her palm opened like a blooming flower at dawn, but a pungent scorched flesh aroma followed the bright light.
"Oof. That's a bit ripe." Tony leaned away involuntarily. The smell carried on the breeze like a corpse flower's stench trapped in a greenhouse.
Sam let her palm close, wagging her finger. "This is why I don't try to flirt with Buck. Our first instinct is…not suave, and yet you have more success with cheesy lines than I do with honesty."
Tony took a fresh breath of crisp cold. "You have all the sarcasm and none of the charisma. Not a bad thing, just," Tony sighed, ignoring the Barnes bait. "It's just a confidence game. You'll find out soon enough, kiddo. Gotta dumb it down sometimes but—" he swiveled his hands around "—without making people feel dumb. Takes tact. And practice. And quite possibly an air freshener."
Sam stuck out her tongue. "Fine, but you didn't smell so great yourself."
Tony watched her return to her spot in front of the second target.
"On the Benatar," she clarified before nudging, "your turn, Dad."
Tony's arm went limp for a moment. Confident or not, the things this kid has seen, the things she's done… He was so proud and so afraid. She says 'Dad' now and you melt like the snow under her feet.
What the fuck was he supposed to do to protect her? Sam could wield two infinity stones. She could—
—wield two stones.
Shit. Samantha could do the thing Banner had been working on an apparatus to accomplish for years. They were just sitting there in her side. No big deal. If the Council ever found out about that, they were screwed.
Overwhelmed and quickly regressing into frustrated irritation, Tony raised his arm and started with a throwaway shot, something direct and easy, something to bring him back to simply enjoying his daughter playing a game with her dad, albeit a game with a bare minimum of concussive force tossed around for fun.
Starks like high stakes, Tony mused, and we learn on the fly.
Sam scoffed, slinging a dubious look after his easy shot. She made her left hand into the shape of a gun and fired a bit of plasma from her pointed fingers, hitting her target at the exact spot.
"You got Barton's whole zen thing going on. It works."
"Not Clint," Sam said with a sour face, "not Nate either. Bucky actually brought me here to learn from Aunt Sharon." She shrugged, turning smug. "Different type of projectile. Uncle Steve's stare is worse than yours though."
Tony snorted. "Did he do the eyebrows?"
"Jeez, he could turn people to stone with those!" Sam burst out laughing.
They both did their best impression of Cap's judgey-resting face.
As the laughter died, he planned his next shot. "Been practicing a lot then?"
"No." Sam tapped a deeper foothold beneath her stance, eyes down. "Buck fights me on working in the notebooks, but I keep telling him it was important."
Don't engage. Tony straightened. "Alright, hotshot. Try this on…"
He lowered the faceplate again, opening a compartment of small-caliber smart bullets at his shoulder. The single burst split ten yards away to hit their flanking targets.
"Cheater—" her hands went to her hips "—I don't have Missy running calculations for me."
"I'm not making bullets with my body," he fake-whined. "Show me whatcha got."
Sam shifted her head side to side, cracking her neck before aiming with her sleeved arm. The focus, the absolute pinpoint of concentration hardened Sam's features for seconds before a sizzling tendril of light and heat jolted out, fraying apart yards away, its ends licking the yellow centers before retracting. Her arm bowed back like she'd caught a fastball without a glove.
Sam shook out her hand, beaming as Tony composed his dumbfounded face. No way she didn't use a stone for that. He peeked over his shoulder, wondering if Pep saw from inside.
How was he supposed to convince Sam to be a hermit on the tundra? How could he crush this kid's dreams?
Again, his brain corrected, you'll be crushing her dreams, again.
He didn't have to yet. This was fun. They could have today. They could talk about the rest tomorrow. He needed this. They all needed this.
"I'm waiting," Sam drawled.
Tony unleashed a sustained beam from his chest piece, turning one leg of his target's tripod to ash. He took a tiny bow.
Sam rolled her eyes and set up her aim.
"You know I love you, right, kiddo?"
It just slipped out, and his heart seized the instant escaped. He could have done better. He could have used some of that tact he'd bragged about.
Sam startled, and a violent whip of plasma lashed the ground beneath the target, catapulting the round and easel into the dead, brittle branches of the trees behind them.
"That's—" Sam wiped at her chest, glancing back at him.
"All three-thousand degrees of ya," Tony snorted.
Hope. Hope and then shame. That was the paralyzing look in Sam's eyes before they burned blue, and the hope bubbled over into a giggle. "I…uh…meant to do that."
It stung deep in the back of Tony's throat. He had no idea what Sam was attempting with the stone, there or at the table, but maybe she wanted this to go as perfectly as he and Pep wanted. He swallowed down his own unbridled hope, fighting against memories and dreams and plans. You had a dream once. You didn't want to believe it.
He'd seen this smile before; he'd had this dream before: Sam graduating from Harvard, smiling, hopeful, proud. Pepper and Howie were there, as he never dared imagine they would be.
And then people came for them, and she fell. She crumpled, and if he wasn't careful, it would happen for real.
"I love you, Samantha, and I'm trying—I'm really trying here—but you're gonna have to say no. Please."
"Say no to what?"
"You can't sign the Accords, kid. You can't. They will own you. They're making it so you can't leave. They're painting you as a murderer, but Pep and I can get you out of it if you—"
"I'm a what? What are you talking about?" Her poise flushed out of her stance as she faced him.
"It doesn't matter. It won't matter if you just say you didn't mean to do any of it, and let them, well, let me cure you. Then we can all just go away as a family, just like we planned before your birthday."
"I told you I don't need to be cured." The ring of blue returned and spread over her eyes.
"You do to keep them away from you."
"They can't get me here, right? Fine. I'll just stay in here with Bucky. He's happier here anyway."
"Sam, LISTEN TO ME," Tony reached for her arms in the suit, stunned by the irony. "He's not coming back. Barnes can't. He has no choice, and you won't either—"
"Stop it," Sam shrieked, ripping out of his grasp. "Stop taking everything away from me!"
"Tony," he heard Pepper call from not far behind him.
Sam's finger went up. "You knew. You lied to me." Red grew angry, brighter in yellow fury, until it shifted into a white, molten heat. "I should have LEFT YOU—"
Tony's helmet closed as he placed his body in front of Pepper. Wong leapt forward, wand raised as the relic blocked and absorbed the energy Sam expelled, from her finger, then her open palm.
Pepper pulled at him.
Wong yelled. "Back through the portal. Quickly!"
A final, savage gust of flame blasted from her mouth like a banshee wail.
Tony had shoved them back so fast, he and Pepper collapsed. Wong dropped the smoking wand as soon as the mirror dispersed in front of him. The refractions glinted yellow, fading with a tinkling sound of far-off glass.
The field was covered in untouched snow. Silent. Three tripod targets stood pristine beneath a white layer at the edge of the trees.
Tony scrambled to turn on one knee. "You're okay," he huffed. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," Wong answered from behind.
Pepper stared up into his eyes, pretense dropped away, defeated. "What's gonna happen to Sammy," she whispered.
"Don't worry," Wong grunted, retrieving the rapidly cooled totem from the slush, "I grabbed my bag." He trudged over to stand beside the couple, lifting the flap to reveal notebooks and a pair of shoes snuggly wedged in with the leather-bound text.
Tony helped Pep to her feet. "She's—"
An ear-splitting shatter erupted behind them, and the flecks of jagged yellow returned, dancing high into the air and zipping farther across the field, between them, beyond them.
"Can she get through?"
Wong's fingers gripped the wand. "That's not possible."
Within the crackling of fractured thunder, Tony heard Sam's scream, but that, too, was eaten by the silence. He looked to the spot she'd just been in, but the twinkling faded, all traces of extra light disappearing.
Wong spun his hand to open their doorway home. "You can tell me what that was here—" he pointed "—or there, but you will tell me everything."
Hope you enjoyed it! I'd love to hear your thoughts, so drop a review if you'd like with favorite bits or predictions!