Natal Void

by Elite500

nothing yet

2. Chapter 2

Helen was removing the last bandage from Friday's right forearm when Pepper barged through the door like a battering ram, disheveled and on the verge of tears.

In the room were also Rhodey, Lila and Vision. No one had the time to stop her: she spotted Friday and stormed up to her, immediately enveloping her in a bone crushing hug: "Oh, my God... you're okay, right?" she asked, planting an aggressive kiss on the top of her head.

"Y-yes... I'm okay, but right now I'm having a bit of trouble breathing, Ms. Potts..." Friday answered, her voice strained by her constricted lungs.

Pepper finally released her, but kept her hands on her daughter's shoulders, staring in her beautiful brown eyes that looked exactly like Tony's: "You scared me..." she whispered, caressing Friday's cheeks, as tears started slipping down her lashes.

"I... I'm sorry, Ms. Potts... I'll be more careful next time, I promise" Friday answered.

Pepper hugged her again, this time trying to be a little gentler. Friday closed her eyes, leaning into her and hugging her back.

"...And Friday?"

"Yes?"

"Can you cut this 'Ms. Potts' nonsense, please?"

She smiled: "I will, Ms.- ...mom."

Leaving Friday to Helen for some final checks, Pepper went to join Tony in his office.

She had told him once, back when he had found Friday building her own suit, that if their girl were ever to be injured on the battlefield, she would tear him a new one. So he was understandably on edge when he saw her entering the room without knocking.

As he stood from his desk, Pepper stormed up to him actually looking like she wanted to castrate him. Instead she hugged him tight: "I want you to make them pay in blood for what they did to her, you hear me? Give them hell, Tony. Absolute hell. If you need any help from me, I'm right here. You just have to ask. Okay?"

Tony just nodded, his expression as murderous as hers: "First I have to find them," was his answer. And he knew just where to start.

Like he'd said to Peter, he had to go to work. He opened his vault and took out Steve's burner phone. Putting the SIM and battery back in place, he turned it on and placed it on the table. "Start tracing, Friday," he ordered.

She was in the infirmary right now, with Helen and the others, but her program was everywhere and perfectly functioning regardless of her physical condition.

It was weird though. He had gotten so used at having her by his side... He so desperately wanted her by his side right now...

She answered through her speakers: "Are you sure it's worth it, Boss? Rogers is many things, but he isn't stupid. He must have gotten rid of his phone after what happened."

"I know. But if we can't find where he is, we can at least find out where he's been. It's the only lead we have right now." Tony answered, pensive.

"Fair enough. Initiating decryption and tracing, Boss."

A map of the entire world appeared in front of Tony in a 3D hologram. A red dot appeared in the center of the African continent.

"Knew it," Tony whispered, as both he and Pepper narrowed their eyes at the highlited spot.

Wakanda.

"That's where Rogers was when he tried to contact you about Barton's family, Boss..."

Pepper bristled as Friday spoke. But then, she actually smiled: now T'Challa was well and truly screwed.

They had no footage of him in Siberia. He had managed to avoid all the surveillance cameras of the Hydra base. They could place him in Siberia by his own admission, since he was the one to apprehend Zemo there, but so far, he could easily have denied even entering the base, much less meeting Rogers and Barnes.

This, however? This nailed the bastard down. He could not hide his involvement anymore.

Her girl went on: "I'm trying to trace the GPS movements starting from there, but the encryption is very heavy. I can't promise any result."

"Yeah, I get it. Do what you can. In the meantime, Pep..." he called, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous smirk, turning to face her. Pepper gave him a smirk of her own, raising an eyebrow.

"... You wanna have some fun too?" he asked.

Her smirk became wider as her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Obtaining an audience with King T'Challa had been surprisingly easy... well, easy for a King's standard.

At first there had been a few roadblocks, but as soon as Pepper had mentioned the fugitives, everyone in the king's entourage had become incredibly polite, accomodating and easygoing. Maybe because the young king was trying to pull the wool over their eyes by appearing friendly and helpful. Or maybe he actually meant well and was trying to make amends. Pepper had never met the guy, it was only fair to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Fair, but not easy. Not for her. Not after what had happened to Friday.

They had agreed to meet at the Avengers Compound. She wondered if he was trying to show openness by agreeing to meet on Pepper's home field, or if he was just desperate to cover up his involvement.

He greeted her politely and formally, kissing her hand and bowing slightly: "Miss Potts. Such a pleasure."

Oh, in a few minutes it won't be, Pepper thought. "King T'Challa. I'm honored you accepted to meet me," she answered with the same, professional politeness.

The atmosphere seemed cordial enough, but both of them knew this was a fight. A duel. The new king of Wakanda against the woman who was considered one of, if not the, most powerful corporate shark in the world.

"If you would please follow me, we'll talk in Mr. Stark's office. I'm sure we will be more comfortable there. Your guards can wait in the common area."

T'Challa was flanked by four Dora Milaje. They all looked at Pepper with suspicion.

She held all of their gazes almost challengingly: "Is there a problem?" she asked.

All four women narrowed their eyes at her, but a placating gesture from T'Challa prevented them from even gritting their teeth.

He mentally reminded himself that captain Rogers and his team had left Wakanda without leaving any traces, so they had nothing to worry about. He was sure he could handle Miss Potts by himself.

He followed her in Tony's office. As soon as they entered, she spoke: "Friday, activate full privacy settings."

The lights dimmed slightly and the windows became obscured. All of the exits were also closed and locked. T'Challa turned to look at Pepper, his shoulders slightly tenser than before. Pepper's face now held an expression that was carved out of steel. All of the pleasantries had been left out of the door.

"What is the meaning of this?" T'Challa asked, now slightly on edge. Again he had to reassure himself: Rogers was gone. Wakanda was safe.

"I thought you would be grateful if I made it so our conversation never left this room. Sit down, your majesty." Pepper stated, making a gesture towards Tony's desk. It wasn't a request, and the king knew it.

Pepper seated herself on Tony's chair, while T'Challa took a seat on the opposite side of the desk. The irony was not lost on him: Pepper now looked like a queen on her throne, looking down at the irrelevant, common mortal that he was. The unpleasant suspicion of having underestimated his opponent started to make T'Challa's confidence waver.

"So," Pepper started, "former captain Steve Rogers and his team have been hiding in Wakanda in the past months before secretly returning to the US. You can avoid wasting my time and yours trying to deny it."

Fear hit T'Challa like a freight train. To his credit, he didn't let it show: he narrowed his eyes and tried to look as menacing as he could, even if he knew right then and there he was anything but: "Is this a threat?"

"It's a fact," Pepper answeed simply, "one that I'm sure would cause some major problems with the open borders policy you are trying to instate, if we were to make it public. How do you think the United Nations would react, knowing you harbored those who fought against the Sokovia Accords while you were arguing so passionately for them? And how do you think your own people would react, knowing the responsible for the Lagos massacre was comfortably housed in your palace?"

T'Challa could feel the cold sweat collecting on his back and forehead. Suddendly his tie was constricting his throat. How did she know? Who was this woman?

He gathered what was left of his cracking confidence and steeled himself: "Even if this was true - and it's not an admission - you said it yourself: captain Rogers is back in America now. You have no proof to support your claim." he scoffed.

Pepper gave him an angelic smile as the young king presented her with the perfect opening: Incompetent blue-blooded snot. You're making it so easy I'm not even relishing the challenge.

She leaned forward and went in for the kill: "While he was in Wakanda, Rogers sent an encrypted phone to Mr. Stark so he could call him when he was ready to talk, or if he needed him. No doubt a misguided, questionable attempt at an olive branch. But the part that is relevant for you, your majesty, is that Mr Stark decrypted this phone and traced it back to your country. Specifically, to your royal palace."

T'Challa's eyes bulged and his face went gray as all the blood drained from it.

She had completely cornered him.

She had him at her mercy.

He quickly decided the best defence was to attack: "...T-This is preposterous!" he yelled, standing up, "I will not tolerate this sort of-"

"Sit down, T'Challa. We're just talking." she said, the perfect portrait of calmness.

The king was completely gobsmacked. He was leaning threateningly over the desk, promising repercussions of the most unpleasant kind, but this woman wasn't fazed in the least. She was sitting comfortably in Tony Stark's chair, holding his gaze unwaveringly, perfectly conscious that she was the one calling the shots in this office. Slowly, he relented and sat back down, tamed.

Pepper gave him a wry smile. She had called his bluff. Sure, Wakanda was powerful, and technologically advanced, from what she had heard. But it was a country that had little to no influence on the outside world, having always been completely isolationist. Stark Industries was a hundred- no, a thousand times more powerful. T'Challa's threats were just empty words.

She reprised with karmic calmness: "We only ask for information. All that you can tell us about Rogers and his comrades. Everything that can lead us to their current location. You can talk to me now, and the... invitations you extended to them will never be made public. Or you can refuse, go back to your country, and get ready for Wikileaks to have a field day at your expenses. Choose wisely, your majesty."

T'Challa gulped. When he had woken up that morning, he hadn't expected this.

It was supposed to be over. Over and done with. Why was this one mistake, a mistake he had committed in good faith, coming back to torment him so?

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, "This is clearly personal. Why? I have no quarrels with you, or Mr. Stark. I haven't wronged any of you-"

"Au contraire, your Majesty," Pepper interrupted, now looking at him as if he was but a little dirt stain on her stilettos, "You did wrong Mr. Stark. On a fundamental level."

The king merely gave her a questioning look. She continued: "He was in Siberia. In that base. And so were you. Yes, you apprehended Zemo. Congratulations for that. But you also welcomed two wanted criminals in your home with open arms, while leaving behind an innocent man - the man I love. He was alone, stranded and hurt. And you left him there."

T'Challa's mouth hung open. Pepper's eyes were filled with hatred as she finished: "The love of my life was dying while you were preoccupying yourself with helping the two fugitives who had just nearly murdered him. And now, because you enabled them, another person I hold most dear has been hurt. So be careful, T'Challa, be very careful, for you have no idea what I'm capable of. Now I have questions to ask you, and you will answer them, truthfully and exhaustively. Don't test me."

"So, Bagheera says he's not financing them?" asked Tony in a tired voice, not looking away from the helmet of his new armor he was working on. Friday was sat next to him, looking intently at the piece of tech he was creating.

"No," answered Pepper from her seat in front of them, "he swears he's got nothing to do with any of their tech. He was also adamant that Barnes still only had one arm when they left Wakanda."

"You believe him?" he asked then.

Pepper smiled evilly: "Oh, yes. I made it very clear that if he tried to bullshit me, I would leak all the info we have. He knows we're holding him by his royal feline balls..."

Tony smiled back and nodded in acknowledgement, before looking at Friday: "anything on the burner phone?"

She shook her head: "I'm sorry, Boss. Last known location was the JFK Airport in New York, at a time compatible with Rogers' return to the States. It wasn't switched back on again after that..."

"Both our leads are busted..." Pepper mused, "I can force T'Challa to help us with his satellites..." she offered with the same evil smile as before.

Tony shook his head: "Nah. For now it's better not to pull that rope too much. Don't worry, we'll figure something out. In the meantime, Fri, I need your help with this neural link."

Pepper's brow creased: "Neural link?"

Now it was Tony who smiled mischievously: "One of the problems with Mark 47 is that I don't have a copilot: Friday's armor interface isn't working as well anymore, now that she's physical. I could upload Jocasta, but she's nowhere near as advanced as Friday, she wouldn't be much help. So, starting with Mark 48, I'm connecting my armor directly to my synapses: I think it, the armor does it."

Pepper's jaw dropped slightly, amazed at Tony's solution, before the evil smirk returned to her face: "Wach out, Team Cap, Mark 48 is coming for you..." she sneered.

"Indeed," cackled Tony, "I have the perfect codename for this armor."

"What is it?" Pepper wanted to know.

Tony looked at her, then at Friday: "Sweet Revenge."

When the two girls looked at him questioningly, he confirmed their suspects: "No one hurts my daughter and gets away unscathed..." he said, before leaning slightly closer to Friday and raising her chin with his thumb and index finger: "...no one." he concluded.

Friday was genuinely touched. Pepper was fully approving. Tony was smirking like a perfect Bond villain.

Two months into her house arrest sentence, and Natasha was starting to feel like the walls of the Compound were closing in around her.

The inactivity was starting to be too much to bear. She felt like a caged animal.

She was trying to distract herself by spending more and more time with Clint's family, and Laura was probably starting to get sick of her. Bless that woman for her patience.

Most of all, Natasha was afraid of getting rusty. Two years were a long time without using her skills on the field, and she hadn't become Black Widow by sitting on her hands and doing nothing.

It was with these worries in mind that Tony found her in her room.

He opened the door to a slit without knocking, waiting for a throwing knife or something of the like to fly towards him through the narrow opening. When nothing happened, he opened the door a bit more and peeked his head inside: "Hey," he greeted simply, smiling, spotting Natasha in the corner next to the door, with a gun raised towards him.

"Hey," she answered, not smiling back but lowering the gun, "you should know better than to get in my room without knocking."

If Tony was impressed or scared by her peculiar welcoming, he didn't show it. He only raised an eyebrow: "Do I want to know how and where you got that gun?"

Natasha avoided the question and retorted with one of her own: "What do you want, Stark?"

Tony became serious: "That nuclear facility was the last straw. The Committee has had it with Steve's fuck-ups. I managed to buy us some time, but not much. We need to find Rogers, and we need to do it yesterday. We could use your help."

"I thought I was on house arrest..." she scoffed, clicking the safety release on the gun back in place.

Tony nodded, and a subtle smirk etched his features: "Indeed. Which makes me think it will be best to use you only as a consultant, for the time being."

At that jab Natasha reeled back, scoffing incredulously: "Did you pull a grudge? What, Black Widow yes, Natasha Romanoff not recommended?"

Tony conceded to her point, smiling: "Look, I'm just trying to keep you from getting cabin fever. Laura and the kids are worried, and quite frankly, so am I."

That gave Natasha pause.

Tony was worried for her?

After everything that happened, after she stabbed him in the back and caused his best friend to be paralyzed, he was still worried about her?

She didn't deserve it in the slightest. If anything, it made her feel even more disgusted with herself.

"Romanoff, you still with me?"

Tony's voice brought her back to reality: "I- yeah. Yeah, I'm here," she stuttered.

"Well? You coming or what?" asked Tony, opening the door a bit more and leaning on the wall.

She smiled a sincere smile, lowering her gaze. After a moment she placed the gun down on the nightstand, before exiting her room: "Lead the way," she said simply.

Tony smiled back at her.

"Alright, class," Tony started, "Here's the situation: Rogers and his minions are back on US soil. We know they've been hiding in Wakanda for a while, but we have good reason to believe their new tech, most notably Barnes' new arm, doesn't come from there."

"So you're saying Rogers has a new sugar daddy..." Sharon interjected.

Her words made Tony feel both slightly vindicated and very disappointed. Vindicated, because the way Sharon had just spat Rogers' name showed she really had switched sides and was firmly with him now. Disappointed, because that was exactly what he had been for them: a sugar daddy. Nothing more.

Sharon was living there at the Compound now, but at least she was paying him rent. Rhodey was staying there only until he regained full mobility of his legs, then he would go back to his place. Natasha was on house arrest, and her access was heavily restricted to only a few of the common rooms. Vision and Friday were family. Even Laura was in talks with Pepper and Happy for a job to pay him back for his hospitality.

But Rogers and his crew? They had just made themselves at home. Not only that: they had continuously demanded money and tech, and even protested harshly if he was ever slow to deliver. Of course, God forbid they ever uttered a 'thank you'.

Sharon had caught his point, alright: "Yes," he said, "Someone is providing Rogers' team with new equipment, and that could be a good starting point: we find the tech guy, we find them. Any ideas?"

"Well, Hammer Tech could be a good candidate. You did throw their CEO in jail, after all..." Natasha imputted, smiling.

"Yeah, possibly..." Tony mused.

"What about Pym Technologies?" Rhodey asked seriously.

"Excuse you!?" yelled Hope.

"Hey, I'm just considering the facts here," Rhodey defended, "you guys have a weapons division, you built Lang's suit, and your father hates Tony's guts by association. Is it really so far fetched?"

"Are you stupid or just petty?" Hope snarled, "do you really think I would be here and that I would have attacked Scott in Pennsylvania if I was playing double agent!?"

"You're the one who's stupid: I didn't say 'Hope Van Dyne'. I said 'Pym Technologies'. Perhaps the old man's still feeling pissy about his precious particles?"

Before Hope could launch herself at Rhodey's throat, Friday diffused the situation: "To be fair, Miss Van Dyne, it could be a third person who's somehow eluding both you and Mr. Pym..."

"Yes, perhaps one of the technicians who were working with Darren Cross and whom you fired after the Yellowjacket's demise," added Vision.

Hope was disgusted: "Why are you suddendly all so sure it's someone inside my company!? It could just as well be someone in Stark Industries!" she shouted.

That wasn't true. After Stane, Tony had eyes and ears everywhere inside Stark Industries. He wasn't going to be fooled again: Phineas Mason had tried, and he had been fired so fast he had turned evil. If someone in SI was stupid enough to try and help Steve behind their backs, Pepper, Friday or Tony would have known immediately.

But Hope didn't need to know that: "You're right," he said, raising a placating hand towards Hope, "it could be one of mine just as well as one of yours. Actually, let's start from that, oaky?"

Hope seemed to calm down a bit. Tony turned to the others: "You, you and you" he said, pointing to Friday, Natasha and Sharon, "make a list of every company you think could be capable of outfitting Barnes with that thing. Then check every single employee, from the CEO to the friggin' valet, no exceptions. Bank accounts, phone calls, everything. Starting with SI, then Pym Tech."

Sharon's eyes bulged: "Um... That's gonna take a while, you know that, right?"

"Then you'd better get started," Tony retorted, smiling condescendingly. Sharon gave him a desperate look, but Rhodey caught his attention again: "Yeah, I would actually start with Pym Tech," he muttered.

When Hope gave him another withering look, he raised his hands in surrender: "Hey, it's just the alphabetical order. The P comes before the S..."

Hope scoffed and shoook her head: "You know what? I'm leaving. I can't deal with you any longer today, Rhodes. And I need to be back in San Francisco tomorrow evening anyway," she said curtly, standing up and leaving the room.

The meeting was adjourned, but Tony stayed in the room a few moments more, with a pensive expression.

When he finally got up from his chair, he caught up with Friday, Natasha and Sharon and grabbed the latter two by the elbows: "Guys, Rhodey might have a point. Start the search from Pym Tech. I'm taking off for San Francisco tonight."

"You think she's involved?" Natasha asked, also looking at him.

"I'm not sure. But you see, Romanoff," Tony explained, putting an arm around her shoulders, "if I have learned one thing from the various life-changing events that have transpired in my wake, it's that it's better to be safe than sorry."

"So you're spying on your new teammate?" she asked.

"Yup. Don't worry, it's nothing sexual, I promise." Tony quipped.

"You're not even waiting for us to come up with any proof whatsoever?" Sharon added.

"What did I just tell you? Better safe than sorry. And in the off chance, the sooner you clear Pym Tech from suspect, she sooner I break contact, send Van Dyne a fruit basket with my apologies and come home. So chop chop, you got work to do." Tony smiled, patting Natasha's shoulder twice before releasing her. With that, he left them and went in the direction of the living quarters.

Sharon nodded to herself, accepting Tony's idea. On the other hand, Natasha still wasn't so sure about it.

The spy drew a long breath and shook her head: "I don't like it. What if he's wrong about this?" she breathed.

Friday looked in the direction Tony had taken for a couple more seconds before turning to her:

"...and what if he's right?

The Pym Technologies jet carrying Hope back to the West Coast wasn't a fancy aircraft like the Avengers Quinjets, or really any other of Stark's private jets. But it gave Hope enough time to think.

Rhodes had planted this bug in her head, and it just wouldn't go away. Because she knew something they didn't.

The particles powering hers and Scott's suits weren't infinite. By her estimates, he should have more or less run out of particles all the way back in Leipzig. But in Pennsylvania, he had been able to hold Giant Man for almost ten minutes.

She didn't like it, but it was plausible that someone had refueled Scott. And there was only one person, beside her, who had access to the particles.

She had to be sure.

She took out her phone and dialed her father's number. He picked up at the first ring:

"Hope, hi. How are you?"

"I'm okay, dad, thanks," she answered smiling, "I'm calling you for Avengers business."

"Oh, goodness. Is Stark creating another murder-bot?"

Well. Rhodes wasn't wrong about her father hating Stark by association. "No, no. It's just, I was thinking about the Ant Man suit..."

"What about it?"

Moment of truth, Hope thought. "Well...we saw Scott using Giant Man in Leipzig, and we know how many particles that drains... but then he managed to use it again in Pennsylvania. Shouldn't he have run out of juice by then?" she asked, scared of the answer.

"Ah, see," her father started, "I found out Scott took a pretty big supply of particles when he left for Leipzig. I guess he wanted to be ready for every possibility."

Hope let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Thank God.

But... "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Her father hesitated before answering: "I'm sorry. I just found out. I wanted to make sure exactly how many particles he took before telling you..."

Fair enough. It made sense. "It's ok, Dad..."

"How is working with the Avengers?" Hank asked, changing the subject.

Hope drew a long breath: "I know you didn't exactly approve when I decided to join them, but it's really not that bad. Stark isn't such an asshole, after all. He's actually a really nice guy after you get to know him. His friend Rhodes, on the other hand... We think someone is financing and equipping Rogers' crew. Rhodes started suspecting PymTech."

Hank scoffed: "Figures. See? That's exactly why I didn't want you involved with the Avengers: Stark's bastardness is contagious. Maybe it's someone inside Stark Industries that's helping Rogers. It could even be Stark himself. I wouldn't put it past Howard's son to conspire with international terrorists and then have his buddy accuse others to divert suspects. Be careful around him, Hope. I don't trust him one bit."

"I will, dad. Don't worry."

"Good. That's my girl."

"Well, I have work to do now. See you, dad."

"Alright. Bye, Hope." Hank answered, putting down the phone.

Hope's relief lasted about twenty seconds after the call had been disconnected before a new doubt started festering her mind.

Scott was good at two things: math and stealing. He had a Master in electrical engineering and he really liked breaking into houses. Other than that, he was a total nincompoop.

Was it really possible that such an idiot had planned as far ahead as bringing extra particles with him just in case he became an international fugitive and needed the suit again?

The answer was almost certainly no.

For the whole drive from the airport to her destination, Hope felt like she was doing this completely wrong. It was wrong to drag more people into this hot mess. But there weren't many others she could trust. And she really, really wanted to prove Rhodes wrong by herself before calling Stark.

She stepped out of her car and walked up to the porch of the house. She took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

Jim Paxton opened the door in seconds: "Hope!" he called, offering his hand with a smile. She shook it and smiled back: "Hi, Jim."

"Hopey!" came another, much younger voice from inside the house, before Cassie Lang appeared behind her stepfather and enveloped Hope's waist in a hug.

"Hi, honey. I missed you," Hope greeted, crouching down to Cassie's eye level.

"Is it true that you're an Avenger now?" Cassie asked, full of enthusiasm.

"Yup. Official member," Hope smiled.

"Have you ever seen Lady Iron without her suit? What is she like? Is she pretty?" Cassie pressed.

Paxton decided to rein his stepdaughter in before Hope had to answer: "Come on, sweetheart, let Hope breathe. She must be tired." he said, taking Cassie's hand and turning her towards the living room: "Come in, Hope. What brings you here? I thought you were in New York doing Avengers stuff..."

"I was, actually. It's kind of why I'm here," she said.

"So you're saying your father is helping Scott?" asked Jim. He and Hope were sitting in the patio, drinking a Long Island.

"That's what I need to find out," was her answer.

"Have you talked to him?"

"Yes. He said Scott took a big cache of particles before going to Germany."

"Do you believe him?"

That's the killer question. "I... Yes. Yeah, I believe him."

Jim took a sip of his tea, staring in the distance for a long moment, before speaking: "Hope, if you believe him, why are we here?"

Hope closed her eyes as if to center herself before answering: "Because I could be wrong, so I need a favour."

Jim parked his Crown Vic at the beginning of the dirt track heading into the park. It was almost midnight, so no one should be inside. Which meant Hank shouldn't be here.

For two days he had shadowed the old man, feeling like a bit of a bastard. After all, Hank had paid for all the reparations his house had needed after that nutjob Cross had attacked his family, plus a hefty bonus, and now he was protecting him, Maggie and Cassie from the fallout of the Avengers Civil War.

At first, no one had bothered them, but as soon as Scott's identity became known, the trouble had started: some bullies at school had picked on Cassie, someone had thrown eggs at their house, and his colleagues at the Department looked at him like he was a criminal, or a fool, or both.

But Hank had helped. They had to transfer Cassie to a new school, but he had paid for everything, and he had agreed to be interrogated by the police - namely, by him - giving them as many informations he could about Ant Man.

So Paxton had had to fight with his conscience to accept Hope's request. For the last two days he had followed Hank, not finding anything suspicious in his behavior and kind of hoping it would stay that way.

But apparently, it was not to be.

Because Hank had just picked the lock of a fence of the public park and had driven inside. At midnight.

Paxton closed the door of his car and went in on foot. The place was full of trees, and almost completely dark. He avoided getting lost only by staying onto the track.

He hid behind a tree and drew his gun when he spotted Hank's old convertible in a wide opening, surrounded by trees and illuminated by several lamp posts. Hank was leaning against the door of the car, clearly waiting for someone. At his feet was a medium sized suitcase.

With a heavy heart, Paxton drew his phone and texted his location to Hope. Just as he did that, a jet appeared in the air and landed vertically - and very silently, Jim noticed - next to Hank's car.

It looked a bit like the jet the Avengers used to travel around the world. But this one was clearly an older model: all boxy and squared, nothing like the sleek and elegant aircraft that Tony Stark had created for the Avengers.

The cargo ramp on the back of the plane opened, and three people stepped out. Their faces had been all over the news for months: Jim recognized them immediately as Falcon, Hawkeye and Scarlet Witch. All of them were in their battle uniforms, as if ready for a fight. Jim supposed when you're an international criminal you can never be too careful.

Hank approached them: "Where are the others?" he asked.

It was Falcon who answered him: "Cap's been hurt in Pennsylvania. Barnes and Scott stayed home with him."

Jim noticed they seemed to know each other pretty well. Hawkeye walked up to Hank: "No offence, but if we could hurry this up..."

"Right," Hank agreed. He took the suicase and handed it to him: "It's all here. Tell Scott to go easy out there. The Avengers are starting to suspect me, I won't be able to help you at a moment's notice for a while."

Jim's phone vibrated. It was a text from Hope: it only said 'I'm here'.

Just in time, he thought, coming out of his hiding spot and pointing his gun at the group: "Freeze!" he shouted.

Aside from Hank, they didn't look particularly impressed: "Who the hell's this loser?" asked Barton.

"Paxton!? What are you doing here!?" shrieked Hank, outraged.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the exact same thing! Helping criminals while your own daughter plays for the opposing team? What the hell is wrong with you!?" Jim retorted through gritted teeth.

"I'm helping the Avengers! The real Avengers, not Stark's lackeys!" Hank justified.

"Oh, please, you sound like a broken record! Is that how you're gonna explain this to Hope? Stark is bad so the other guys are automatically good?"

"That's actually how it is," Scarlet Witch interjected, "and I'm sorry, but you're not going to stop us with a handgun, whoever you are," she said, fully convinced that this regular man with his cute sidearm was just on a fool's errand against three Avengers.

But Paxton merely smirked: "Oh, I'm not stopping you. She is." he said, pointing with his eyes to a spot behind them.

Hope stepped forward emerging from the darkness. Like them, she was suited up and ready for battle.

Her eyes were trained on Hank and her expression was furious: "You know, I almost wish I didn't see it. You lied to me again," she spat venomously.

Hank blanched: "Hope-"

"Shut up! Don't you even dare to try and come up with an excuse! You're gonna pay for this!" she hissed.

Right then, Hawkeye decided they had talked enough. He ripped the suitcase from Hank's hand and ran towards the old Quinjet: "Let's go!" he shouted. Jim opened fire on him, but Wanda created a barrier with her powers between them and the policeman.

Hope leapt forward, shrinking down and trying to get around the witch's barrier. The other two fugitives noticed this and Falcon's wings unfolded before swatting her to the ground. She un-shrinked and got back on her feet.

Wanda had pushed Jim backwards with her powers before turning on Hope, throwing a hex of red energy at her. Hope barely dodged, and the ominous scarlet ball of mist crashed onto a tree, making it fall immediately.

In retrospect, it hadn't been such a great idea. Going out alone against half of Rogers' team hadn't been part of the plan.

God, I should never have dragged Jim in this...

Now they were both in danger: these guys didn't seem to be pulling any punches back in Pennsylvania, and they sure as hell weren't going to start now.

She was about to get up and counterattack when the unexpected happened.

A streak of light appeared in the sky, veering towards them. As it grew closer, Hope barely had the time to recognize the shape of Iron Man before he landed in his usual crouch right between Falcon and Scarlet Witch.

"Gentlemen..." Stark said, raising to his full height and pointing his hands against his two ex-teammates while the repulsors charged with the usual whine, "...drop your weapons."

Everybody froze at his arrival. For a moment, it almost seemed that Iron Man was towering over them all like a judge in front of some accused.

Hope noticed we was using a new armor: it was painted almost entirely in a deep, dark electric blue, with a silver faceplate and silver stripes on its chest plate and shoulders.

He turned to her: "Yes, I followed you, yes, I saw the whole exchange, and no, I will not apologize," he said. Hope noticed the strained tone of his voice. She suspected he was trying very hard not to kick Barton, Wilson and Maximoff's collective asses. They are exactly the three that hurt Friday back at the nuclear facility...

"Stark..." Hank seethed with pure hatred coating his voice, catching Hope's attention.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" came Tony's answer.

"Hank Pym. Displeased to finally meet you."

"Displeased to meet you too."

Jim's pained yell stopped their not-so-playful banter: Clint was behind him, holding him by the neck of his shirt and pointing a gun at his head: "Alright, now that we've got the introductions out of the way," said Hawkeye in a warning tone, "if you don't mind, we're leaving. And Professor Pym comes with us."

He was bluffing, and Tony knew it- "You're not gonna do it, Barton," he scoffed.

"No," Clint admitted, "but neither are you, Stark. You might hit Wyatt Earp, here..."

Tony weighed his options. Normally he could have neutralized Barton with his eyes closed. Mark 48, 'Sweet Revenge', had a neural link that connected it to his synapses and made this armor truly act like a part of his own body, and its targeting systems were more precisely calibrated than any of his previous suits.

But it was still untested: this was literally the first time he had donned this armor. And with Wanda there, ready to shield Clint with her powers, there was no telling if he could avoid his shot from striking the wrong man.

Hope made up his mind for him: "Stark, don't..." she said, raising a hand to stop him. Tony relented, lowering his hands.

Wanda smiled at him: "Well, too bad we have to leave so early. Another time, Stark." she jeered.

"Sooner than you think, Sabrina," Tony retorted.

Wanda scoffed before boarding the jet. Wilson and Pym followed suit. Barton didn't.

"Where's my family, Stark?" he demanded.

"Since when do you care about your family, Barton?" was Tony's answer.

"Don't mess with me, Tony..." Clint warned.

"Could you guys please discuss this when he's not pointing a gun at my head?" Paxton interjected in a distressed tone.

Tony decided not to push it. Clint could do something he would regret: "They're at the Compound. None of them was hurt."

"I don't believe you," Clint seethed.

"Well, you can always come with me and take a look for yourself," Tony spat derisively.

"Sorry, I'm kinda on the clock. But I'm warning you," he said walking backwards towards the jet and getting in, pulling Paxton with him, "If I find out they're hurt, you'll never see me coming."

With that warning, he pushed a button on the side bulkhead of the jet and the ramp started closing.

"We're just gonna let them go?" Hope asked, furious.

"Like hell we are," seethed Tony just as the jet started to take off. He started his repulsors and hovered a few feet from the ground.

"Stark, wait! That plane's too fast for me!"

Tony turned to her and opened one of the missile launchers on his shoulders: "Hop in. Try not to touch anything." he said, gesturing with his thumb to the launcher.

"You sit here and be quiet," Clint warned as he pushed Jim down on one of the seats in the back of the Quinjet and cuffed him to the frame.

He had stolen the craft from an abandoned SHIELD deposit, it was the best he could find once they were back in the States. But it was nowhere near as good as the jets the Avengers used these days.

Clint knew Tony could blow them out of the sky with little to no effort if he wanted to, hence why he had to take a hostage: "Don't worry, we'll drop you off as soon as we're sure Stark isn't following us."

"You're gonna land the plane before you drop me off, right?" Paxton retaliated. From his seat on the opposite bulkhead, Hank gave him a crossed look.

"Depends if you can shut up for five minutes or not," Clint hissed, stalking to the cockpit and starting the engines. The jet raised vertically for about fifty feet, then Clint switched from the propellers inside the wings to the jet engines in the back of the aircraft, and they were off.

Shrunken down and nuzzled between two missile canisters, Hope was doing her best to hold on to something and at the same time not accidentally set off one of the weapons.

Tony's voice echoed in the closed space: "Alright, Van Dyne, I'm scanning the jet: Barton's flying and Maximoff is riding shotgun. The others are in the cargo bay. I'm going to get us in from the front, and as soon as I open up, I need you to stun Witchy enough to drop her. Got it?"

She charged her stingers, ready for action: "Got it."

"Get ready, here we go."

After two minutes of smooth flight, Clint drew a breath: "I think we lost 'em."

Exactly as he said that, Iron Man's punch smashed through the side window, hitting him in the side of his head, shattering his cheekbone and knocking him out. The jet rocked and jolted before spinning in an uncontrolled barrel roll. Air started gushing inside like a tornado, and both Hank and Jim screamed, holding on to their seats.

From her seat next to Clint, Wanda tried to attack Tony, but before she could, the missile launcher on Iron Man's shoulder opened and Wasp flew up to her, stingers charged to almost full power. She striked Wanda right over the heart, making her lose consciousness too.

In the back, holding onto a strap attached to the bulkhead to avoid being thrown off by the uncontrolled spin of the aircraft and the whirlwind caused by the air gushing inside through the smashed window, Falcon realized in a split second that this battle was lost. But that didn't mean he was just gonna sit there and watch it happen.

He snatched the suitcase full of Pym Particles, then grabbed Hank by the waist: "Hold on!" he shouted, sprinting to the back of the jet. In a moment, the ramp was opened and the Falcon flew out in the night, Hank Pym holding onto him.

Hope grew back to her normal size and considered flying after him, but she doubted she would catch him, especially in the pitch black night. And anyway, they had more pressing matters to deal with.

Tony had crawled inside and moved Clint off the seat. He was already stabilizing the plane, while Hope reached the cargo hold and closed the ramp. She then proceeded to free Jim of his restraints. The man was hunched over and breathing heavily from the scare.

"I'm sorry. I should never have dragged you into this..." Hope apologized when he had calmed slightly. He just nodded in acknowledgement.

Tony finally landed the jet and moved to the back, stepping out of his armor: "Alright, two for three, not bad," he noticed, "though I would have appreciated it if you had come clean to begin with..." he said to Hope.

She winced: "Stark, look... I'm sorry. I know you don't want people to keep secrets from you. I understand that. But I really didn't know anything about this, and I just... wanted to make sure. Then I saw my father handing over the particles, and I had to intervene... I made a mistake. It won't happen again."

Tony was about to respond when Clint, who had regained consciousness, tried to get the jump on Tony and attack him from behind. But Paxton had already noticed him squirming before he jumped up, and was ready to intervene: he drew a taser from his ankle holster and striked him before he could get close. Clint's body seized and trembled before falling backwards between the seats of the cockpit.

"You little bastard," Paxton hissed at Clint's still seizing form while lowering his taser.

Tony was impressed. He looked at Clint, then at Paxton, and held his hand out: "Tony, by the way..."

Paxton shook it awkwardly: "Uh, Jim. Sargeant Jim Paxton. But... yeah, call me Jim."

"Well, thanks for the saving, Jim," Tony smiled.

"Oh, welcome. I guess we're even, considering..."

"Yeah, fair enough," Tony agreed. Then he turned to Hope. He was not pleased that she went behind his back, but he could understand why she did it: "Are you alright?" he asked.

Hope looked down: "...no," she admitted.

Tony sighed, looking down for a minute before addressing her again: "We don't have to do it now, but at some point, you and I are gonna need to have a longer conversation about all this..."

She nodded, not looking him in the eye: "Yeah, I know. I screwed up. I'm sorry..."

He put an arm around her shoulders: "Alright. Apology accepted. We'll sort this out, okay? For now, let's just pack up Bonnie and Clyde here and go home," he encouraged, looking at Clint and Wanda's slumped forms.

Clint's awakening wasn't pleasant.

The entire left side of his head was pulsating and screaming in pain, and his neck felt sore for having been unconscious in a sitting position with his head lolled to one side.

Oh, right, Stark punched me in the face with the armor... Fuck, it hurts like a bitch...

The first thing he noticed was that he was in an interrogation room: he was sitting at a table with a big mirror on the opposite side and a camera on the corner of the ceiling. His hands were cuffed behind him, but otherwise he was free to move as he wanted. Looking at his reflection on the mirror, he saw the left side of his face was almost completely purple and swollen. He definitely had a broken cheekbone.

Well, he should probably count himself lucky his skull hadn't outright exploded when Stark had hit him. That bastard. Turning on him, on Steve and all of the others like that... they were supposed to be his teammates, for fuck's sake!

The second thing he noticed were the two other people in the room with him: Rhodes, who was sitting at the table, opposite from him, and Stark himself, who was pacing slowly behind Rhodes, talking to the phone.

"-ilson escaped with Pym, we only got Barton and Maximoff. Yes, Sir, as soon as you're done, please. Alright. Thank you." was all Clint could get from the conversation before Stark hung up.

"Look, Sleeping Beauty has awakened," Rhodes snorted, referring to Clint.

"Oh, good. Perfect timing." Stark exclaimed, sitting down next to Rhodes.

Clint seethed. He wasn't at one hundred per cent, but he could wiggle out of those cuffs and take down Stark in seconds, 'specially since there didn't seem to be any Iron Man armor in the room. Fools, they thought it was safe for them to just put a pair of cuffs on him. Rhodes was a trained military officer, but Clint knew he was paralyzed from the waist down. He could easily subdue him too.

He was about to do just that when Rhodes spoke again: "What did Ross say?"

"He's talking to the UN panel. They're discussing what to do with Katniss and Morgana. He'll call us back as soon as they've reached a decision." Tony answered.

That sent Clint reeling: "Ross!? Didn't you kill him? It was in the news!" he shrieked.

"I did. This is Everett Ross, JCTC task force," Tony explained.

Right, the Joint Counter Terrorism Center task force. They were hunting down him and the others as if they were terrorists.

It made Clint furious: "Where did you take us? Where's Wanda?" he demanded.

"Come on, Barton. Don't you recognize a place you broke into six months ago?" scoffed Rhodes.

Clint creased his brow: "the Avengers Compound?"

"Do you want a prize?" Rhodes smirked.

"Why am I here?"

"You'll be transferred to your new and probably last domicile as soon as the Accords panel has decided where to stash you," explained Tony, "But I thought I would give you the chance to cooperate. Give us Rogers' location and you might come out of jail before you start needing old man diapers."

Clint didn't even consider the offer. He had something else in mind: "Didn't you say you transferred my family here?" he asked.

"I did," confirmed Tony.

"Where are they? I want to see them. Now."

"You're not in the position to make requests, much less give orders. And anyway, they don't want to see you." Tony stated calmly.

Clint exploded out of his seat, making the chair fall backwards: "Yeah, sure! The only reason you're not letting me see them is because they're not here! You fucking liar! You have them somewhere else, don't you!? Probably imprisoned like you had Wanda, or worse! How do you even sleep at night, Stark? Imprisoning and hurting women and children!? You absolute fu-"

Clint's tirade was cut short by the sound of the door slamming open.

Laura was there.

She was unhurt, completely free of any restraint, and nearly apoplectic with rage. She stalked up to him and punched him as hard as she could, right on his already broken cheekbone.

Clint tripped on his toppled chair and fell flat on his rear, completely stunned. Only then, looking up at her, he noticed she was wearing brass knuckles on her right fist. What!?

"Laura-" he called, absolutely shocked.

But she wasn't done with him. She kicked him in the ribs, sending him sprawled next to the table.

"You stupid..." she growled, grabbing the table and moving it out of the way before kicking him again, "...worthless..." she continued with another kick, this time in the stomach, "...idiotic..." another kick, again on the ribs, "...son of a bitch!" she yelled with a last kick, straight to his nose.

"Holy crap..." laughed Rhodey in surprise, enjoying the impromptu show from his seat. Tony was slightly more active: he came up behind Laura, gently grabbing her by the elbows and dragging her back: "Laura, calm down..." he soothed.

Clint looked up at his incensed wife: "W-What the hell!?" he stuttered.

Laura was breathing heavily as she ripped herself free of Tony's grasp. She walked up to him again and grabbed him by his shirt: "Get up," she snarled, hoisting him up with a strength that showed just how pissed she was, and shoving him against the wall: "Do you have the faintest idea of what you're talking about, you piece of shit!?" she asked him, still reeling with rage.

Clint was absolutely gobsmacked: "Laura, wha-"

"Tony and Friday are the only reason the kids and I are even alive!" she yelled.

He didn't understand a single word: "F-Friday? Who's Friday?" he queried innocently.

That, if possible, seemed to piss Laura off even more: "Oh, right. You don't know her. You don't know shit of what happened lately. Well, allow me to bring you up to speed on Friday: you probably know her as Lady Iron. She's Tony's daughter, she's the one who saved us from General Ross, and she's become your daughter's new hero. And, icing on the cake, she's the one you almost killed in Pennsylvania when you and your criminal friends stormed a nuclear facility!"

Clint didn't even try to defend himself from his wife's accusations. His brain was receiving too many informations at once. But one of them, among all the others, was an absolute bombshell.

He turned to Tony: "You... you have a daughter?" he asked.

"Oh yeah he does," Laura answered in Tony's stead, making Clint turn back to her, "and he would do anything for her. You know why!? Because he loves her! And he would never leave her to become an international fugitive!"

Clint finally caught his bearings: "Laura, it wasn't like that. Stark, he had imprisoned Wanda-"

That earned him a backhand, again on the left side of his face. Thankfully there were no brass knuckles on her left hand, but Laura still used enough force that the wedding ring on her finger split his lower lip: "Because that's what all this is about, isn't it!?" Laura erupted, "Wanda Fucking Maximoff, a poor little flower abused by the cruel, harsh life! I should have expected it really, it's such a cliché: a retired man with middle age crisis running away with a young foreign bimbo! Has she spread her legs yet?" she raged.

"What? What the fuck are you talking about!?" Clint asked, offended.

"Oh, did I get it wrong!?" Laura responded, "Because you see, she's a twenty-six year old eye candy, and you absolute scumbag left your home as soon as you heard her name! Forgive me for thinking you two have been at it behind my back!"

"I would never! She's- she's like a daughter to me!" Clint defended.

It was the wrong thing to say.

Laura brought the brass knuckles to bear once again. This time she flat out punched him in the nose, sending him back on the floor: "You already had a daughter, you worthless asshole! And she needed you far more than that fucking witch! Tony-" she pointed behind her at the man, "-and everyone else here at the Compound are doing all they can to make her life bearable now, but you fucking broke her heart! Do you want to know how she reacted when she learned you were gonna be taken here? She started crying, asking me if we could leave for the time you were at the Compound! Coop? He asked me when you were going to be taken away, so he could finally come out of his room without the risk of running into you! And Nate doesn't even know who you are! That's what your children think about you! You might not know this, but being almost kidnapped by a corrupted Army General because of your father tends to damage your opinion of him!"

Clint was shocked, but he wasn't gonna take this: "You wouldn't have been endangered if Stark hadn't gone in bed with Ross! Why the fuck are you believing his word over mine!?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe 'cause he freaking saved me and my children from Ross while you were off tanning your butt in Wakanda!? Yes, we know you were in Wakanda. Did you enjoy fucking your beloved Maximoff in the African sun!?"

"I'm not... having sex with Wanda!" Clint shrieked, embarrassed. By this point, Laura had brought him on the verge of tears.

"Well, your loss, because you sure as hell aren't having sex with me anymore." Laura scoffed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Clint asked, now truly scared.

"It means," Laura seethed, removing her wedding ring and throwing it at him, "I want a divorce. You can shove that ring up your ass, or on Maximoff's finger for all I care. I'll do everything in my power so you're never getting close to me or my children again. And you better get ready: Tony will provide me with an entire death squad of ruthless lawyers with the body of a human and the head of a shark that will skin you alive! Right, Tony?" she asked, turning to him.

Tony was still slightly dazed by Laura's massive rage outburst. But to his credit, he answered as quickly as he could: "Uh, sure, anything you want. Should be easy for them to skin him, he's a condemned terrorist, after all..."

"Right. He's not just a pig. He's a criminal." Laura spat, sashaying away from Clint and towards Tony: "Thank you, Tones. What would I do without you?" she said in a sultry voice, pressing her whole body against Tony's side, caressing his left cheek with a hand and placing a featherlight kiss on the other, very close to his mouth.

Clint's eyes were bulging out of their sockets as the scene unfolding before him reduced him once again to a stuttering mess: "Wha..." he blurted.

Laura's lips lingered close to Tony's face a lot longer than acceptable. Finally removing herself from Tony, she turned to Clint, an evil smirk adorning her features: "Pathetic excuse of a man..." she sneered, leaving the room.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Tony spoke: "Okay... Unexpected, but not altogether unpleasant," he smiled.

"You bastard!" Clint bellowed, expertly slipping his right hand out of the cuffs and throwing himself at Tony.

That was when he was met with another nasty surprise: he swung his right punch at Tony as hard as he could... and Tony caught it.

One handed, with absolutely no effort.

Clint's surprise was overshadowed by pain when Tony squeezed his wrist. There was smoke raising from where Tony's hand was around his arm!

He was already howling in pain as Tony swung his other punch, and unlike Laura's hits, this was strong enough to shatter his septum.

For the umpteenth time, Clint was down on the floor, blood running copiously from his destroyed nose and two of his front teeth missing. How!? He's just a civilian! What the fuck is going on!? This is a bad dream, isn't it!?

Tony was towering over him, and his eyes were now glowing an ominous orange.

Clint was absolutely paralyzed by fear as Tony spoke: "You know, what Laura said was true: you hurt my daughter, you little shit stain. I was trying very hard to be reasonable and not disembowel you with my bare hands, but since you absolutely have to test my patience..." he growled, grabbing him by his hair and pulling him up against the wall, his face absolutely murderous.

Clint was completely petrified, uttering unintelligible, scared sounds as his gaze wildly shifted from Tony's glowing eyes, to Rhodey, who was now standing next to him with a pair of crutches - How is he standing up!? How is Stark this strong!? What the hell is happening!? - to the burn on his arm.

Tony decided he'd scared him enough. He broke into a small, good-hearted laugh as his eyes turned back to their usual brown, letting go of Clint's hair and patting him twice on his unhurt cheek, before turning around to leave.

As soon as he was released, Clint slid down the wall until he was once again with his butt on the floor: "What the hell did you do!?" he shakily managed to ask.

"I survived." Tony answered cryptically as he and Rhodey exited the room.

Outside, Laura was waiting for them near the door, Happy Hogan at her side.

"Romanoff taught you well, Former Mrs. Barton," Tony said.

She was slightly red in the face: "I'm sorry, Tony. I just... I really wanted him to feel how hurt I am," she admitted.

"Don't worry," Tony waved her off, "just... a little warning next time?" he said as they all started down the corridor.

"You're lucky Pepper didn't see you pull that trick, L," Rhodey smiled.

"Yeah, let's all agree to never mention this around her. I have three kids, I don't wanna die," she answered.

They all laughed before Happy changed the topic: "Those knuckles fit you?" He asked.

"Well, they're a bit loose, I think I need slightly smaller ones..." Laura answered, raising her right hand and examining the brass knuckles on her fingers.

"I'm sure Tony can custom build them, if you ask nicely," Happy smiled, slapping Tony on the shoulder.

Tony smiled back: "Oh, you don't even have to ask. Consider it done."

"And about that job we were talking about, the one in SI security... am I hired?" Laura asked then.

"Hell yeah!" Tony and Happy answered enthusiastically at the same time, before the head of security added: "With an interview like that, how can we possibly say no? I can't wait to be working with you!"

Laura bumped her shoulder against his. Actually, she was really looking forward to work with Happy too.

Ever since she had come online, Friday had worked on a little project. Independently, without anyone ordering her to. It had taken her almost eight months to complete her research, but it had been worth it. When she had finally presented it to the Boss, he had started feeling slightly better about himself.

She looked down at the manila folder she was holding in her hands: now, her little side project would serve another purpose.

Outside the second interrogation room, Vision was looking through the observation glass at Wanda's sulking figure, debating if it was wise to enter the room or not. After all that had happened, he couldn't really discern what he felt for her.

She was still wearing her battle uniform, minus the long coat. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and the power suppressing collar was once again around her neck. However, Friday supposed as she joined the android, it was still better than the straitjacket they had put on her at the Raft.

"Are you alright?"

Friday's voice distracted Vision from his thoughts: "I am, yes. Thank you for asking. I'm trying to come to a conclusion about whether I should be the one interrogating Wanda or not. I can resist her powers, but with the power suppressor it is irrelevant. Given our connection through the Mind Stone and our previous rapore I may be able to form an empathic bond with her, but I'm afraid she would use it to her advantage, I cannot deduce how she would react-"

"Vision, take a break," Friday interrupted. The android stopped, frustration evident on his face.

Friday looked up at him with concerned eyes: "You can't decide if you want to see her or not, do you?"

Vision nodded: "I felt something for her, before. But now I find that my feelings were largely illogical and... wrong. I grossly misjudged her."

Friday rubbed his arm: "You are angry, and confused. I would be too," she said.

Vision looked down: "Part of me wants to confront her. She made a fool of me once in this very Compound, leading me to believe... no, not to believe, but to hope my illogical feelings were reciprocated, before outright attacking me in order to escape. Then she made a fool of me again in Leipzig, saying she was sorry for her actions. She caused me to grow distracted and injure Colonel Rhodes... and in Pennsylvania, she illustrated to me very clearly how sorry she was..."

Friday tipped her head to the side, prodding him to continue. He raised his eyes back to the interrogation glass, and this time, they held nothing but disappointment: "I would have still forgiven her, before our last encounter. But when I asked her to desist, she attacked me once more, without any consideration for the safety of the hostages, her teammates or even herself. She is a danger, to herself and everyone else. I would like to confront her, but at the same time I don't want to so much as look in her direction. I refuse to. Now, she only disgusts me."

Friday nodded: "Well, I managed to counter her powers. Now that I know how they're like, she won't be able to make me see things again. I'll deal with her for now. If you decide you want to confront her you can still do it later, alright?"

Vision looked at her and nodded once, smiling. She smiled back before turning around to go to the adjacent room.

"Is that file what I think it is?" Vision asked, referring to the folder in her hands.

Friday looked at him and then at the folder: "She needs to face the truth," Friday answered simply.

Vision nodded his agreement.

Wanda started glaring daggers at her as soon as Friday entered the room: "You're the girl from the nuclear powerplant..." she said.

So despite the collar, apparently she could still leak her powers slightly. Enough to peek in people's minds.

Better this way, Friday thought. At least, she can't accuse me of lying to her.

"Perceptive. Friday Stark, nice to properly meet you," Friday answered cordially, sitting down in front of her and placing the envelope on the table.

"Stark, huh?" Wanda knew this freak had something to do with him: "What exactly are you?" she asked.

Friday decided to just tell her without - for now - picking up on her hostility: "I was created as a sentient AI to replace the one known as Jarvis. Later on, an accident gave me a synthetic human body. And now, here I am."

"So Stark created another Ultron. Only this time he gave it a pretty face to make it friendlier," Wanda accused.

For a moment, Friday just looked her in the eye. Then she scoffed, shaking her head: "I'm going to enjoy this far more than I should," she whispered to herself.

Wanda hadn't heard: "What did you say?"

Friday shrugged, waving her hand dismissively: "Nothing. Miss Maximoff, I'm here to ask for your cooperation in apprehending international terrorists," she stated.

At that, Wanda lost her cool: "We aren't terrorists! We are heroes! We help people!"

"By drowning them in their worst fears?" Friday asked calmly.

Wanda wanted to retort, but then she remembered she had been told by Steve and Clint not to rise to any bait if she was ever captured before they could clear their names. She leaned back in her chair: "I am not saying anything else without a lawyer."

"Good. You don't have to say anything, you have to listen," Friday retorted, opening her manila folder. She produced a photograph: "Recognize this?"

Wanda's blood went cold.

It was a photograph of the unexploded Stark Industries shell that had trapped her and her brother in their apartment with their dead parents. She would recognize it everywhere, the image was burned into her mind: "Yes. I recognize it," she said, not giving anything away and trying to hide how much that photograph unsettled her.

"As soon as my Boss activated me, I noticed several strong hints of distress in his behavioural pattern. Searching for information about the origin of this distress, I learned about your family." Friday explained, "Boss was feeling guilty about your past. That was his main cause of distress. That was the reason why he never exposed your involvement in Ultron."

Wanda glared at her, but didn't deny the accusation. The other girl continued: "He had abandoned the project, did you know that? But then you came around and played with his mind. You made him so desperate that he tried to make it work by integrating it with alien technology..."

Wanda scoffed dismissively. She didn't know Stark had abandoned the idea of Ultron, but that didn't change anything: "So what if he had abandoned it? Does that mean he should be absolved of all blame? He still killed my parents! He damn well deserves the guilt he is feeling!" she snapped.

Friday leaned forward, narrowing her eyes like a predator ready to attack: "Well, that's the point: he actually doesn't," she said simply, pulling a second photograph from the folder and placing it in front of Wanda. This one looked like a magnified detail of the previous one: it showed a string of letters and numbers written on a slightly bent piece of metal that seemed to be from the outer casing of the shell.

"What is it?" Wanda wanted to know.

"That, my dear witch, is the serial number of the bomb in question. You see, I have access to all the data regarding Stark Industries, and I know that the weapons division only sold its goods to the United States Armed Forces and allied governments. Which begs the tantalizing question: how did a Stark Industries S-class mortar shell end up in Sokovia? The Soviet Union had annexed the region shortly after World War Two. Germany had it before that. And ever since the USSR fell and Sokovia became independent, riots and revolutions became a routine, but the country was still under Russian influence. Neither the US Army nor the NATO ever had anything to do with it..." Friday explained conversationally.

Wanda was losing her patience. She already knew the history of her country, she didn't need an academic lecture about it: "What is your point!?" she asked crossly.

Again, Friday reached into her folder, producing yet another picture. This time, it was the photo of a well dressed man in his sixties. He was completely bald and sported a salt and pepper beard. His eyes were cold and calculating, his expression was ruthless and malevolent.

"Meet Obadiah Stane," Friday introduced, "Chairman Executive Officer of Stark Industries from december 1991 to june 1993, senior member of the Directive Board and most importantly, a really greedy asshole. This man used his position in Boss' company to sell SI weapons under the table to various individuals, many of which were running less than legal activities. Which brings us back to the shell in your apartment..."

Wanda was starting to feel a knot forming in her throat. She really didn't like where this conversation seemed to be heading, but she didn't know what to say to make it stop.

Friday continued: "I tracked that shell. It was an absolute pain in the rear, especially considering the situation Sokovia has always been in. But I'm very good at this. I am methodic, and patient. And, just like you were motivated to make Boss suffer, I was motivated to make him feel better. In the end, I found what I was looking for."

She produced two other documents from the folder. They both seemed to be official documents, but they were different: one of them was an inventory of some sort, the other seemed to be a shipment order. Both had the signature of Obadiah Stane, and on both papers, a number was circled with a red marker: it was the serial number of the bomb from her apartment.

"Stark Industries is the best at everything it does," Friday stated, "be it clean energy, advanced tech, or military armaments. That bomb was one of a series of payloads that didn't meet factory standards, and should have been detonated safely here in the States. But Mr. Stane saw an opportunity to make top dollars with rotten goods, and smuggled those weapons in Sokovia."

Wanda was looking at Friday with her eyes blown wide. The other girl leaned forward: "Obadiah Stane, not Tony Stark, is the one who profited from the weapons that killed your parents. Do you wanna know what happened to him?"

When Wanda didn't answer, Friday implacably continued: "He tried to have Boss assassinated during a business trip in Afghanistan. But, Boss escaped imprisonment and became Iron Man. A short time later, he uncovered Stane's secrets, and after a rather explosive confrontation... he killed him."

Wanda was now breathing heavily. She shook her head desperately in denial: "N-no... that's... you're lying..." she tried to say.

"Oh, come on. You can see inside my head. You know it's all true. Tony Stark killed the man who sold the weapons that killed your parents. And we haven't even gotten to the best part yet," Friday cackled.

Wanda wanted to deny everything, but Friday was right: she could see inside her mind, she knew she was telling the truth: "W-what do you mean- what best part?"

Friday smirked: "I didn't just trace the bombs back to Stane. I also managed to track down the buyer. See the receiver's signature here?" she asked, pointing at a signature beside Stane's on the shipment order.

Wanda's heart leaped in her throat as she looked in horror at the signature. The buyer of the weapons was-

"Alfred List," Friday supplied, "Hydra scientist, working at the direct orders of Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker. A doctor with a rather unhealthy obsession for human experimentation. I'm guessing you know him pretty well, don't you, Scarlet Witch?"

Wanda let out a hurt, strained noise.

List was the lead doctor of Strucker's team. He was the one who had personally performed the experiments on her and her brother. He was the one who had made them what they were. He was the man behind Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver.

And he was the true responsible for the death of her parents.

"No... No, no..." Wanda pleaded, shaking her head almost hysterically.

Friday just laughed: "Oh, yes. Definitely yes. And do you wanna hear the last fun fact?"

Wanda looked at her with an espression that seemed to be begging for mercy, but Friday was relentless: "When the Avengers first came to Sokovia to retrieve Loki's scepter, Iron Man was the first to breach Strucker's fortress. He found List trying to erase all of his research from the servers... as soon as he saw Iron Man, List tried to grab a gun... but Boss hit him with a repulsor, killing him instantly."

Wanda couldn't breathe.

She desperately wanted it not to be true, but it was. She could see it in Friday's mind.

Sixteen years... all this time... we were completely wrong...

She looked down, unable to hold Friday's gaze anymore.

She had always blamed Stark for the death of her parents. Instead, he was the one who had killed both the true responsibles.

Oh God... what have I done...

She felt sick. Tony Stark had avenged her parents. And she had twisted his mind, turned his life into a living hell. She had just let him shoulder all the blame for Ultron-

But Stark had abandoned the project.

That sudden thought hit her worse than anything else.

Ultron wasn't Stark's fault. It was hers.

She let out another strangled cry. And then another, thrashing slightly against the handcuffs. And then a louder cry, as her face twisted in pain and her eyes squeezed shut...

Pietro is dead because of Ultron.

She barely managed to turn to the side and bend forward before vomiting violently.

"Ew... Gross..." Friday flinched.

Wanda coughed a few times before throwing up again. As she hurled, tears started running down her face.

Her head was spinning so hard she eventually lost balance and fell from the chair, just barely avoiding the pool of vomit.

"Oh, for the love of... never mind. Let's call it a day," Friday said calmly, gathering her papers and standing up, complelely unfazed by the show in front of her:

"Just to sum it all up, Hermione: Tony Stark is the one who truly avenged your parents. And you wanted to destroy him. You worked with your parents' true murderer to do it, became his lab rat, even. Then you pushed Boss into making Ultron so you could get your long awaited revenge, and your brother paid the ultimate price for it. Oh, and let's not forget the Grand Canyon-sized hole in your home country, that's kind of important too, considering it's also what caused Zemo to seek his own revenge. Everything Ultron did is your fault, and you know it, but you left Boss to take full blame for it..."

Wanda just wanted Friday to stop, but the other girl was not done yet: "After that, you proceeded to live at the Boss' expenses, no doubt thinking he owed you for being the meanie who killed your family. Then, since you have powers but you don't know how to use them, you killed thirty-eight people in Lagos. So you were asked - not by Boss, but by Vision, who had always been nothing but kind to you - to stay at home until the heat diffused, but instead you decided to attack him and run away. You helped destroy an airport, you became a fugitive, and then you nearly caused a nuclear disaster."

Wanda was now on her knees, bent forward in an almost fetal position, and crying helplessly. Friday walked around the table, mindful to keep as far away as possible from the pool of sick.

She grabbed Wanda's hair, pulling harshly backwards, raising Wanda's head so she was looking her in the eye.

Wanda's expression was devastated, her make-up running down her eyes in black tear marks and her whole body quaking with desperate sobs.

Friday looked utterly disgusted, and for the most part it wasn't because of the horrible vomit stench: "And you say you are a hero? Who helps people?" she asked.

Wanda didn't answer. Couldn't answer.

"No. You're not a hero. You are a revolting, messed up freak. Nothing more."

Having said that, without waiting any longer, Friday let her go, turned on her heels and calmly left the room.

Left alone, Wanda just curled up in a ball on the floor and kept crying.

"God fucking damn it!" Hank cursed, throwing a chair against the wall, so hard that one of the legs cracked when it hit the bricks. Scott flinched at the outburst. Hank was usually a level-headed person, he didn't expect him to explode like that. "Dr. Pym, please, calm down," Steve soothed, putting a hand on his shoulder in a show of comfort, "getting angry won't solve the situation." Hank just shrugged it off: "There's absolutely nothing that will solve the situation, Captain! It all went to hell!" Again, Scott flinched. He was slowly but steadily coming to the realization that he had been dragged into something way bigger than him. God, he had been so clueless. Hank was continuing his tirade: "They took two of your men! They took Scarlet Witch, who was probably the most powerful of your team, and Hawkeye, who was the scout alerting you of ambushes and stray enemies! At least so far, you could counter their advantage in firepower with numerical superiority! But now? If you go against Stark's team like this, they're gonna squash you!" "We'll manage," Steve reassured him, fully believing it, "we'll try to avoid getting in contact with Tony's team for the time being, while we search for where they're holding Clint and Wanda, and then we'll work out a way of breaking them out. I've broken the whole team out on my own from a prison floating over the ocean, it won't be too difficult to break out two of them with the rest of the team's help. In the meantime," he stopped mid-sentence to grab Bucky's shoulder, "Bucky was a sniper too, back in the Army. He can do Clint's job just as well, if not better." Bucky gave him an uncertain look. It was nice that Steve had so much faith in him, but sometimes his best friend's steamroller attitude overwhelmed him: was all this really necessary? All the fighting, all the destruction? Now they had to hide from Stark and his team. Why couldn't Steve just try to work things out with him? Despite Siberia, Stark seemed like a reasonable guy. Why couldn't they just sit down and talk? "Also, Scott's suit still packs quite a punch when he goes giant," Steve went on, "and then we have the Falcon with Redwing for air cover. Yes, we're a bit short-handed, but we can keep going like this for a while." Hank scoffed: "You really don't get it, do you? First of all, the particles powering Scott's suit are limited. He's going to be able to run another... I don't know, six missions, seven tops. And that's if he doesn't go Giant Man: he's only got a couple more shots at that with the particles we managed to get away. The Falcon suit? How do you expect me to run maintenance on it, or your mag-shield, or your friend's arm for that matter, now that I don't have access to any lab or tools? Oh, and besides: you lost your jet! That was your only mean of transportation, wasn't it? And without Barton here, where are you going to get another one? I'm sorry, but if this shit goes any further south, you're gonna become Captain Antarctica!" Steve's enthusiasm was starting to wane at Hank's status report. And the old engineer wasn't even done yet: "Jesus Christ, I should have just kicked you out of my house when Scott brought you to me! Now I'm a fugitive from the United Nations and my own daughter's hunting me down! I'm way too old for this shit!" He sat down and raked his hands through his hair, then he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose: "And you know whose fault this is?" Sam rolled his eyes: "Lemme guess: Tony Stark?" "Tony Stark," Hank confirmed, voice full of hatred, missing Sam's sarcasm completely: "First he makes an apocalyptic mess trying to build Skynet, and then he goes on a power trip talking about checks and balances and accountability!? He's the reason the Accords fucking exist in the first place! Why didn't you fucking kill him when you had the fucking chance in fucking Siberia? The world would be much better off without him!" Steve flinched. Dr. Pym wasn't serious about that last part, was he? "Tony is a good man. He had come to Siberia to help-" "Good man my ass!" Hank scoffed, "He royally screws up, and always comes out on the other side smelling like roses! God, I hate that! He's his father's son, through and through!" No. That was definitely out of line. "Dr. Pym, I will not have you spewing gratuitous insults on Howard Stark like that. He was one of my closest friends, his help during the war was invaluable-" "Have you ever heard that people change, Captain?" Hank interrupted him, "You've known Stark Senior for, what, three years? Well, I worked with him for more than twenty! During the war he might have been a decent guy, nice even, I didn't know him back then. But the Howard Stark I knew? He was a cold, machiavellic bastard who only cared about the end result!" That gave Steve pause. He had never thought about that. Every time Tony had dismissed or even demeaned his father's memory and legacy, Steve had wanted to throttle him. He had always wondered how Tony could be so callous, so blind, so wrong, about Howard. How was it possible that he just couldn't see that Howard was a better man than Tony could ever be? He wondered if Tony actually did see how his father was so much better than him, and liked to throw mud on his memory just so he could feel better with himself. The Howard that Tony depicted was nothing like the man Steve had known. Steve remembered thinking Tony was so ungrateful, badmouthing his father like that. But could it really be possible that the Howard Tony had known was actually different than the one Steve had been friends with? One time, Tony had spitefully reminded Steve that, when he wasn't running Stark Industries, Howard was in the Arctic, looking for him. That Howard was too busy moping over a single MIA soldier to raise a son. Was it really his fault? Was he the cause of Tony's relationship with his father being what it was? It didn't make sense. Tony did care for Howard! Why would he have attacked Bucky in Siberia if he didn't? Surely he could see the Howard Steve knew! But Doctor Pym seemed to agree with Tony about Howard... God, why were things so complicated? "We need to lay low for a while." Bucky's words brought Steve back to the here and now. Lay low? "What do you mean, Buck? What about Clint and Wanda? We can't leave-" "Oh yes we can! We can and will, at least for now! We have to stay quiet and regroup!" Steve was stunned by his best friend's outburst. He was about to protest when Sam spoke: "He's right, Steve. We have to stay under the radar until this blows over..." "And you think this is ever going to blow over anytime soon?" That was again Dr. Pym. Sam shook his head in return: "We have to hope it does," he said with a tone that really implied what he thought about their chances in the current situation. Pym scratched his beard: "Well, you're right on one thing: we need to regroup. This place could be compromised, so we all need a new safe house and and I need a lab where I can work on your stuff." "You have any ideas, Hank?" Scott spoke for the first time since Sam had returned, bringing Dr. Pym along. Pym nodded, staring in the distance: "I've gotta make a few calls." As Scott handed him a burner phone, Steve decided to hold off on his protests about Hank suddendly overstepping him. What the hell, he was the team leader, he should be the one to decide! Now suddendly they all thought they knew better than him? But they were right, they did need a new place to stay. Once they had found it, they would all sit down and have a long conversation about authority and the chain of command. *** "Sir, you know how much I respect you and the organization you represent. I agree wholeheartedly with your work and what you stand for, but in this case, I'm gonna have to say no. And by no, I mean: Hell no!" Tony growled at the screen where Isaiah Bradley, the new American delegate of the Sokovia Accords Central Committee after Ross' demise, was in video call with him. Bradley was a rather mysterious person: other than the fact that he was an Army Captain from Baltimore who had served in the first Desert Storm, there was very little to be found about him on the net. It was also kind of weird that a simple Captain held such a position in the Accords Committee. But he had served under General Sawyer, the head of the US Subcommittee, and they were apparently good friends too. Sawyer seemed like a cool guy, so Tony was willing to give his friend the benefit of the doubt. Also, it wasn't like this was Bradley's fault: this was a decision that had been made by the Committee at large; the poor guy was simply delivering the message. Not that it was easy: Bradley shifted on his seat, clearly uncomfortable: "Mr. Stark, you have to understand that we don't have many alternatives, that's why we are asking-" "Didn't you hear what I just said? No! Downright fucking NO!" Tony seethed, "I'm not gonna keep Maximoff in my Compound any longer!" I don't want her here. Not after everything she's done. I don't want her anywhere near my family! "This is the Avengers' headquarters, not a prison!" he continued, "You have a prison that was purpose-built for this kind of situations! Use it!" "We're going to," Bradley replied, "We have a team already en route to your Compound to collect Barton and escort him to the Raft. We can, theoretically, hold Maximoff there too, but, after what happened last time, we'd really rather not..." "Security measures have been increased exponentially since Rogers broke her out," Tony objected, "he won't be able to do it again." "Agreed, but-" Bradley stopped short. He took a deep breath before continuing: "Mr. Stark, you read the report of the breakout. You know what happened: as soon as the power suppressor was off her neck, Maximoff went on a rampage. Twenty-eight guards were hit by her powers, and nearly all of them suffered long lasting effect. To this day, they are still seeing things and having nightmares." "Yes, I know all of that," Tony interjected, "That's all the more reason to keep her well away from a place where civilians-" "One of those guards committed suicide two weeks ago," Bradley interrupted him. Tony fell silent. Bradley still looked apologetic when he resumed: "We can't connect this to Maximoff's attack without a reasonable doubt, but I'm ready to bet you she was the cause. Even if we put her in solitary confinement, the Raft personnel isn't capable of dealing with the Scarlet Witch should her powers break free again for whatever reason. The Avengers, on the other hand, have captured her twice already." Tony just stared at Bradley's image. The delegate went on: "The Vision can counter her powers, and from what I've read in your report on the Susquehanna SES incident, so can Lady Iron. We can't and won't order you to hold Maximoff there, but there simply isn't another place where she could be detained effectively. The Committee is looking for a more permanent solution, but in the meantime we have to ask for your help with her preventive detention, at least until the end of her trial. It won't take more than three months. That's all we're asking..." Tony lowered his gaze for a second before pursing his lips and looking up at Bradley again: "The guard that killed himself... did he have family?" Bradely, too, looked down: "The guard was a 'she', actually. Catherine Perry. And no, fortunately she didn't. Her mother was her only remaining close relative and she died last november..." Tony nodded solemnly, looking down. The Avengers are the best qualified to deal with Wanda... Rogers was right about one thing: we protect people. The people running the Raft are no different. After a long moment, Tony shook his head and sighed heavily. He looked back to the screen, defeated: "Twist my arm a little more, why don't you..." Bradley smiled sadly: "I take it you're accepting the Committee's request?" Tony narrowed his eyes: "Reluctantly. Very reluctantly. And I'm taking your word on this being only a temporary arrangement. Three months, Delegate Bradley. Not one second more." "Thank you, Mr. Stark. We appreciate your help. As I said, we are already looking for a more permanent fix to the problem Maximoff poses." Tony nodded once: "If it's all the same for the Committee, I am going to look into this situation myself..." "By all means, do. We value your work and your opinion very much, Mr. Stark." The connection was cut, and Tony leaned tiredly back in his chair. *** Natasha had to be quick. She was waiting at the helipad of the Compound as the guards sent by the United Nations to extract Clint returned with their prisoner. It was the only chance she had. Clint had made a lot of mistakes lately, but he was still her best friend. She had to try. She approached them right before they entered the helicopter: "Clint..." she called. He didn't seem to have noticed her presence until that moment, because when he looked at her, his bruised and battered face showed absolute surprise. She didn't have time to explain, though: "Clint, don't be stupid... they won't ask you again. You have to give them Rogers' location now, it's your only chance." The expression on his mangled face immediately changed from surprise to betrayal: "You!" he shouted, "What are you doing here!? Are you back with Stark now!?" She reeled back as if he had hit her: "Clint... I'm on house arrest. They- Ross had captured me-" she tried to explain, but he cut her off: "What? Ross!? Wait, so you- my family was almost taken by Ross! You sold them out!" Natasha didn't even have time to open her mouth to deny. Clint was already struggling against the men sent to retrieve him: "Do you have no shame whatsoever? You sold out my family to save your ass after I gave you a second chance!?" he snarled. Natasha couldn't even understand how he could get it so wrong, but she finally reacted: "How can you possibly think that, even for a second!? Ross had kidnapped me! He tortured me! I held out as long as I could!" "So it's true!" the archer yelled, "You did rat them out to Ross! You disgusting bitch! You owed me! I saved your life, and that's how you repay me!? Sending my family to the slaughterhouse!? I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!" She didn't know how to answer him. In that moment, she didn't even recognize him. This wasn't the Clint Barton who had brought her to SHIELD. Somewhere along the way, this man had changed completely. He had become the man who had welcomed Wanda in the Avengers, after she had attacked every single one of his teammates. He had become the man who had left his family after a single phone call. He had become the man who was accusing her of betraying him and his family like he didn't know her at all. "Miss Romanoff, please step away from the prisoner," said one of the UN guards. She looked blankly in his direction, and complied. He was gone from her. She turned around with her shoulders hunched, slowly walking back towards the Compound. Her best friend was gone from her. Behind her, she could still hear him shout all kinds of insults as he was manhandled towards the helicopter: "So now you're back to sucking Stark's cock, huh? You've crawled back to him like the slimy worm you are, haven't you!? Did you have to give him your ass to convince him not to throw you in a supermax where you belong, you worthless slut? I bet it-" "Tony saved your family, you ungrateful bastard!" Natasha snapped, turning around to face him and cuttimg his tirade, "and he only managed to save them because I warned him in time!" Now it was Clint who was reeling. Natasha came closer again, her face showing nothing but hatred: "all of which would never have happened anyway, if you had just stayed at home like you were supposed to! The only reason your family was ever in danger in the first place is that you snapped at attention like a good little soldier as soon as Captain America called you!" she seethed, her jade eyes piercing Clint's blue ones. She broke eye contact first, snapping back around and walking briskly towards the building. Behind her, she heard some sounds. A few ruffled movements. The door of the helicopter closing. The engines starting. Natasha just kept walking, never looking back. A lone tear slipped down her left eye. He was gone from her. She was completely devastated. But somehow, a small part of her felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. As if this confrontation had been a long time in coming. He was gone from her, but it had happened a long time ago. And she had only just realized it. *** As soon as they had landed back at the Compound, Hope had locked herself in her room, lying down on her bed and just staring at the ceiling. Her father had betrayed her. Again. After everything. After Cross, after he had finally told her the truth about her mother. After she had given him a second chance. He had still decided to betray her. And now, she was the one who had to deal with the consequences. They would have to release a press statement about Barton and Maximoff's capture. And there was no way in hell that they could keep Hank's involvement secret. She didn't even want to think about how this would affect Pym Technologies. The shares were going to plummet. Vertically plummet. Plane-crash plummet. There was no way to stop that. She wondered if it wouldn't be better to just save herself the trouble and declare bankruptcy immediately, just putting herself and all of PymTech's personnel out of their collective misery. The sound of someone knocking at the door jostled her out of her passive state: "What?" she called. "You still alive in there?" Stark's voice answered. Oh, great. She really wasn't in the mood for 'TheTalk' right now. But he was the team leader, and she had screwed up royally... "I just wanted to update you about Barton and Maximoff... Can I come in? It's kinda off putting to speak through a closed door..." She furrowed her brow. What? Just update me? Not give me a lecture? She had thought for sure he was going to ride her proverbial ass. Lay into her for being so stupid, maybe bring Rhodes along so he could gloat about being right... She had heard about how Captain America constantly, and also very harshly, reproached Iron Man for not following his orders to a tee - actually for every single personal initiative Stark had ever taken, back when Rogers was at the helm of the Avengers. She was fully expecting Stark to have taken after him. Not that she didn't deserve it, in this case. Instead he just wanted to inform her about Barton and Maximoff? She got up and went to open the door, almost curious. When she opened, Stark looked almost apologetic: "Can I come in?" he asked again. She blinked twice and moved to the side to let him enter. "Thanks," he murmured. When they were seated at the table in Hope's suite, he reprised: "So, Barton has already been shipped to the Raft. He's looking at eighteen years in jail, minimum, and he can forget an early parole. He's no longer a problem. Maximoff though, different story there. We'll have to detain her here at the Compound for the duration of her trial. They're trying to find a way to detain her without endangering anyone in close proximity..." "They're not gonna hold her at the Raft during her trial?" Hope asked, not really interested in the answer. "No. Last time, when she broke free, she screwed the brains of twenty-eight guards. One of them committed suicide. The Avengers are better equipped to hold her..." "That's fair, I guess. I'm sorry to hear about those guards." "Yeah..." An awkward silence fell between the two. After a few minutes, Hope just couldn't take it anymore: "We're not gonna talk about San Francisco?" she asked. Again, Stark looked apologetic: "Well... catching Barton and Maximoff somewhat appeased the Committee, so they're not asking for your head on a silver platter... this time. But sooner or later, yes, we're gonna have to talk about it. I just didn't want to pressure you." Hope let out a deep breath: "Might as well do it now. My father completely screwed me over..." "Alright then. Tell me your side of the story. From the start and without omissions, please" Tony said. His tone was firm, but he didn't try to look threatening or impose himself. He was just listening. Hope actually felt encouraged: "I... My father and I have a pretty troubled history. I was seven years old when my mother, the original Wasp, went MIA during a SHIELD mission. My father promptly shipped me off to boarding school and refused to tell me anything about it, said she had died in a plane crash... I knew he was lying. Every time he tried to shove that pathetic cover-up story down my throat, I would see red..." "... I'm sorry to hear that" Stark said. He didn't prompt her to continue or urge her to get to the point. He just listened intently. "Three years ago, we had to deal with Darren Cross. I'm sure you already know all the details. That's when my father started to come around... he finally told me the truth about my mother, he stopped trying to push me away... he was finally letting me back into his life..." she continued, looking down, "I thought I finally had my father back..." "That's why you snapped at Rhodes when he accused PymTech, right?" Stark said, looking down himself. "Partly, yes. But there was also another reason, that I hadn't considered before" she confessed. Tony's eyes got back up to her: "what is it?" Hope breathed heavily: "Scott went giant in Leipzig. Then he did it again in Pennsylvania. There was no way he could have pulled that off without refueling..." "So you knew something was off when you left the meeting," Tony surmised. Hope's cheeks colored in shame: "Yes. I wanted to check by myself before letting the team know, after all the problem was either inside my own family or inside PymTech." "I get that. I understand why you did it, but you still should have come clean," Tony replied. Hope was almost stunned by the lack of accusation in his voice. "I know. I'm sorry. When I called Jim to help, it was only to investigate. We weren't supposed to get into a fight with Rogers' team-" "But you did," Tony interrupted her. This time the accusation was there: "You know what would have happened if I hadn't followed you? Maximoff would have squished you, or Barton would have stuffed you full of arrows, or Falcon would have... Falcon Punched you or whatever. Point is, you and Sargeant Paxton would have had your asses handed to you." Hope felt lower than dirt: "Are you gonna throw me off the team?" Tony shrugged: "I don't know, should I?" Hope smiled a self-deprecating smile: "I think it's a moot point anyway: this is gonna cause a massive fallout for PymTech. I'm gonna have to deal with this disaster for God knows how long, I don't think I'll ever have the time or resources to get back out there with you guys ever again." Tony scratched his eyebrow slightly: "Stark Industries can help with that. If you agree to it, of course. I can call Pepper and you two can work something out..." Hope was confused: "You would do that? Why?" Tony shrugged again: "You're a good resource for the team. And most of Rogers' crew is still out there. I'm not so arrogant that I won't admit I could use your help." Now she was really taken aback: "I... I don't know what to say... Thank-" "Don't thank me yet," Tony stopped her, raising a hand, "you're off the hook only 'cause we caught two of them. You pull that shit again, I don't care even if we catch them all as a result, I will bench you so fast your head will spin. And the Committee won't be so lenient either. I need to be able to trust you, both in the field and out of it. I've already worked with people I shouldn't have trusted, and I'm not exactly keen on doing it again. Are we clear?" "I think that goes without saying." "Good. Now, can you think of any lead whatsoever that could get us to Lang or your father?" Hope thought about it for a moment: "You know, it's a bit of a long shot, but I might have an idea..." *** Wanda had been thrown in a cell in a sublevel of the Compound she didn't even know existed, three floors underground. Her hands were no longer cuffed, but the collar was still around her neck. Without her powers, there was no way she could take it off with her bare hands. She wasn't sure she wanted to. Once in the cell, she had just curled in a fetal position in a corner next to the bed, and hadn't moved since. She could feel her powers tingling inside her, almost fighting to be released. And she hated it. Those powers came from Hydra. From the people who had killed her parents. The girl - Friday, was it? She was right about her. She was a revolting, messed up freak. How could she have been so wrong? For so long? Stark was innocent. God, he was innocent. He even killed the true responsibles of her parents' death. What else had she been wrong about? Maybe she had also been wrong about the Accords. They hadn't stopped the Avengers from intervening in that nuclear powerplant, after all. And maybe, Stark had also been right about keeping her indoors after Lagos. The Compound was definitely a much better accomodation than the Raft, that was for sure. She thought about Vision. He probably hated her right now. When Clint had come to 'rescue' her, Vision hadn't even fought back, He had just let Clint hit him. And even when she had attacked him, he still hadn't laid a finger on her. Instead, she had thrown him down to the bottom of the Compound. Revolting, messed up freak. She didn't deserve Vision. She was even starting to suspect Stark himself was a better person than she was. He had given her a second chance, he had housed her, fed her, clothed her. He had taken full responsibility for Ultron... and he had never blamed her when he would have had all the right to do so. And how had she repaid him? She had nearly destroyed his life. After a long time, the door opened. Friday was there, and she didn't look happy. As Wanda got to her feet, Friday scoffed: "So," she started, "you really like being troublesome, don't you?" Wanda didn't answer. "Apparently you're so dangerous they don't even want to throw you back in the Raft. They asked for the Avengers to babysit you for the duration of your trial or until they find a better way to contain you, which means you're gonna be our problem for a little while longer" Friday said, then she immediately corrected herself: "Oh wait, sorry: my problem for a little while longer. See, Vision and I are the only ones who can resist your powers... but he doesn't really want to deal with you anymore. And I'm just willing enough to oblige him." Wanda felt like she had been stabbed: Vision... Friday got closer: "And thus, joy oh joy, I'm your new handler. Or... jailer, if you prefer. So I'm warning you now: at the first inconvenience, I'm gonna make the Raft look like a five star hotel." She came up to her and got three inches away from her face: "Come on, Ms. Maximoff, inconvenience me. I dare you." she seethed. Wanda didn't know why, but this girl scared her. Friday scoffed and got back to the exit: "I'll bring you dinner in a couple of hours. Maybe. If I'll feel like it. We'll see." she said, closing the door and locking it. Wanda looked at her feet and sat down on her mat. Find a way to contain her. As if she were a dangerous wild beast... 'It's an involuntary reaction in their amygdala. They can't help but be afraid of you.' 'I can't control their fear, only my own.' 'Revolting, messed up freak.' It was her own fault. She had chosen to build her entire life on a mistake. A lie. They were gonna keep her at the Compound for now. Maybe it meant Stark still cared for her, at least a bit... he really was a better person than her. But she could still make amends. She could make things right. She had to.

Wanda wasn't sleeping.

Four days ago, about two hours after she was thrown into her cell, the girl who had interrogated her - Friday Stark, Tony's daughter, her mind supplied - had informed her that she would be kept at the Compound under her personal supervision for the time being. Since then, Wanda had slept about an hour and a half in total.

She was obsessed. There was no point in denying that. She was truly and completely obsessed.

Two times a day, Friday came into her cell with her meals. Every time, Wanda used all the meager amount of her powers that was too much to contain for the suppressor collar, to look into the girl's head.

The first time, she searched for Vision. And what she found hit her like a punch in the stomach.

Vision hated her.

She saw in Friday's head the discussion she and Vision had had before her interrogation: 'Now, she only disgusts me', Vision had said, hatred in his voice. And it had really devastated her, because she now knew she deserved every bit of that hatred. She had thought she was doing the right thing. Instead she had been completely, undeniably wrong.

But that was also the reason why she couldn't let her despair get the better of her. She had sworn to herself that she was going to make things right. And that was exactly what she was gonna do. Maybe then, Vision would forgive her.

So the next time Friday had come, she had searched her mind looking not for Vision, but for Tony Stark.

What she found didn't hit her like a punch in the stomach. It hit her like a freight train.

She saw everything.

She saw memories that weren't Friday's, but of the AI that had preceded her, Jarvis. She saw why Tony had become Iron Man. She saw the palladium poisoning, the inception of the Avengers, the Chitauri invasion, the Mandarin incident, the hunt for Hydra... and Jarvis' death.

Then Friday's own memories started. There, Wanda saw Tony leaving the Avengers, the depression, Tony and his girlfirend taking a break in their relationship, the Accords and Ross and how Tony had tried to navigate through it all. She saw the Civil War, and how it had devastated him to have to fight against those he had considered friends.

And then she saw what happened in Siberia.

She saw Tony watching his parents being murdered in cold blood by sargeant Barnes. She saw Steve lying to his face about it. She saw the fight, all through Friday's feed from the Iron Man armor.

She felt first hand Friday's anguish when the armor had gone offline. She learned how those twenty-two hours and forty-one minutes had been the worst of Friday's life.

The sheer guilt and desolation all these memories caused Wanda almost made her feel physical pain. Each and every single one of those things had devastated Tony. The man was so hurt, so scarred, so unfathomably damaged...

She almost started crying right in front of Friday. Thankfully, the girl had thought Wanda was just trying once again to garner her pity and sympathy, and simply scoffed at her: "I told you before: those crocodile tears won't fool me. You can cut the drama, it's not gonna get you anywhere" she had said before leaving.

Left alone again, Wanda thought more about what she had just learned about Tony.

She found she could relate with him. She would never have guessed it, but... he was a kindred soul. Tony Stark, of all people, was just like her.

They had both suffered in very similar ways. Both had lost their families, and both were trying to atone for past misdeeds. Trying to do better.

How could she have been so blind that she never saw it?

She regretted so much not having given him the benefit of the doubt, not having tried to get to know him better before.

After that, everytime Friday came into her cell, she looked into her head to see more of Tony. After discovering that they were so alike, somehow she felt drawn to him. She wanted to know everything about him.

She slowly started to get to know the real Tony Stark. And he was amazing.

He was caring and giving. He loved his family fiercely, and he would do anything for them. The same went for his teammates... well, at least for his new teammates. The old ones had problems getting past his asshole mask. They never really got to see the incredible man beneath it.

She saw him with Friday and Ms. Potts, with Vision and Colonel Rhodes, with Happy Hogan, with Clint's family or with his team. He worked with them, made small talk, traded barbs, played with the children. Everyone who knew him - the real him, not the media facade - inevitably grew fond of him.

And she had to admit, she was no exception.

She had been right in thinking that Tony Stark was a much better person than she ever was, or would be. Goodness gracious, she had been such a blind fool. How could she never have noticed how wrong she had been before?

Burning hot shame kept washing over her every moment of those first few days. Of course, she had been blinded by her irrational hatred, and Tony had understandably gone on the defensive and put his walls up to protect himself from her, not letting her see the real him. And besides, Steve, Clint and the others hadn't really done anything to change her opinion: they were as blind as she was.

But despite trying to rationalize her behaviour like that, she still felt lower than dirt. The shame and self-loathing she was feeling was almost overwhelming.

In the end, she came to the conclusion that her only chance of redemption was earning Tony's forgiveness. If he could forgive her, maybe she wasn't beyond saving. Maybe there was still good in her.

She had to do right by him.

Many people thought Christine Everhart was a person without morals.

It wasn't true.

Sure, she wasn't above doing questionable things for a scoop, and she could be absolutely vicious in her interviews, even to people who didn't fully deserve the vitriol. But everything she did, she did it for the sake of finding the truth and always making sure justice was done. She wouldn't have left Vanity Fair for an equally well paid but much more taxing job at WHiH Newsfront otherwise.

So in her own right, Christine did have a moral compass, and it was a strong one.

Pepper Potts must have seen it, or she wouldn't have invited her at this upcoming Avengers press statement, sparing her the trouble of finding another way to get in. It sure as hell wasn't a personal favour, she and Ms. Potts weren't exactly friends...

The conference room of the Avengers Compound was huge, and yet it was stuffed full of reporters. Journalists of many different and prestigious newspapers and other media from all around the world were gathered there. Christine immediately understood that whatever news was gonna be released by the Avengers today, it was gonna be a big one.

After several minutes, Pepper Potts rose to the podium and caught their attention: "Good morning and thank you all for coming on such a short notice. Today the Avengers would like to update the media on the situation concerning the aftermath of the so-called 'Civil War' and the rogue faction known as 'Team Captain America'. There have been important developments that the Press, and the world, needs to be informed of."

Oh, this is gonna be good, Christine thought from where she was sat in the first row, as Tony Stark in the flesh took a seat next to the podium, along with the newest member of the Avengers, Hope Van Dyne. It was the first time Tony appeared in an Avengers press statement after the Civil War. So far, everything had been handled by Ms. Potts and the Stark Industries PR team. Christine could hardly wait.

"To this end, Hope Van Dyne, the latest superhero to join the Avengers under the codename 'Wasp', would like to release a statement," Ms. Potts continued, right before looking pointedly right at Christine: "She will not be taking any questions" Pepper concluded scathingly.

Normally, the reporter would have rolled her eyes at the CEO, and flat-out ignored her, asking all the questions she wanted. But she had been caught off guard: she had thought Tony Stark was gonna be the one speaking to the public, not the latest newbie. He's probably gonna speak after Van Dyne, Christine thought, he has to speak up at some point, right? It's been months! Since before the Civil War! He has to have something to say by now... Why is he even here if he doesn't?

In the meantime, Ms. Potts had left the podium, and Van Dyne had taken her place. She was looking down at the papers in her hands, almost fidgeting. Christine noticed that, while her expression was as professional and severe as usual, PymTech's CEO seemed nervous. She wasn't her default, crisp and confident self.

She had Christine's attention.

"Today is a good day for the Avengers," Van Dyne started, after squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, "but a rather sad day for me personally."

The journalists in the room had no time to ask themselves what she meant as Hope went on: "When I signed the Sokovia Accords and joined the Avengers, I did so not because I wanted to be a superhero, or because I felt that my contribution would make the world a better place. I joined the Avengers because of the actions of one Scott Lang, better known as Ant Man. Scott Lang is technologically enhanced by means of a suit that was developed by my father, Doctor Hank Pym, the founder of Pym Technologies. A suit that Lang used to infringe countless international laws, and to become, by all intents and purposes, a terrorist. As CEO of Pym Technologies, I felt I had a duty towards all those he wronged using the Ant Man suit. The Avengers, And Tony Stark first and foremost, were among this people. That is why I joined the Avengers: to atone for Scott Lang's mistakes."

There were murmurs and whispers among the reporters in the room. Christine was itching to shut them up so she could hear what Van Dyne had to say.

The woman in question continued: "Now, as most of you know, there has been a lot of bad blood between my father and the Stark family. Yet I thought, surely my father will be willing to let bygones be bygones in the light of his protege's actions in Leipzig. Surely he will see how Scott Lang is hurting his name and the name of our company with his conduct. When I discussed my decision to join the Avengers with my father, however, he voiced his disapproval, although he didn't actively try to make me change my mind."

This was getting irritating for Christine. She hadn't come here to listen to Van Dyne's familiar problems, but she guessed she could keep quiet for a little while longer.

"Shortly after our first confrontation with 'Team Captain America' at the Susquehanna SES in Berwick, Pennsylvania, I had a meeting with the rest of the Avengers, where we came to the conclusion that the team led by Steve Rogers had to have found a benefactor that was funding them and resupplying them... Colonel James Rhodes, War Machine, suggested that either my father or Pym Technologies could be behind it."

Christine was left slightly stunned. She thought she knew now where this was going. So she does have something important to say...

"I got angry. I refused to believe, even for a second, that my father or my company was involved with international terrorists. I left the meeting and boarded a plane back to San Francisco, determined to prove those accusations false. Now that I have the benefit of hindsight, now that I can look back at the situation with a cool head, and most importantly now that I know how the events would unfold, I realize how wrong it was of me to react like I did."

Another pause. The whispers among the journalists were increasing quite a bit.

"Once in San Francisco, I enlisted the help of SFPD Sargeant James Paxton, who had been involved in the Jellowjacket incident back in 2015, to investigate the matter at hand..."

Hope took a moment to collect herself before continuing: "Two days later, Sargeant Paxton proved Colonel Rhodes right."

Exclamations of surprise exploded in the room. It took a good three minutes for the reporters to calm down and let Hope continue:

"Sargeant Paxton tailed my father to a public park in the outskirts of San Francisco, in the middle of the night. There, my father met with former Avengers Sam Wilson, Clint Barton and Wanda Maximoff. Their interaction proved undeniably that the rogue Avengers' benefactor was indeed him."

Christine was now shocked. This poor woman had had to watch her father stab her in the back, working with the people she was fighting against.

She was dying to ask what had happened next, but she knew she didn't have to.

Hope went on: "At this point, both Sargeant Paxton and I intervened. It was foolish of me to attack three former Avengers with only the help of a lone police officer armed only with a standard issue sidearm and taser, but what I had just seen had clouded my judgement. I had to stop that... that criminal act from going on any longer. So I attacked, realizing almost immediately how terrible an idea it was: Wilson, Barton and Maximoff were not holding anything back. They fought us all out, showing no scruples at, potentially, seriously harming or maybe even killing a baseline civilian, or me. In that moment, I truly feared for mine and Sgt. Paxton's lives. Had the fight continued as it had started, I have no doubt that we would have been grievously hurt or worse, right in front of my father's eyes. My father who was just standing there, doing nothing. Saying nothing."

There was hatred in her voice at this point. And also disappointment. Most of the reporters in the room were stunned into silence by now, even more when Hope looked up at them with a sad smile:

"Luckily, Iron Man saved me from my own stupidity."

Christine perked up, shifting her gaze to Tony, as did most of her colleagues. But Tony just remained where he was, seated next to Pepper, texting on his phone.

Hope hadn't finished: "Mr. Stark, finding my behaviour suspicious, had followed me to San Francisco, keeping an eye on me from a distance just like Sgt. Paxton and I were doing with my father. As a result shortly after we attacked the fugitives, he was able to intervene in our aid, turning the odds in our favor. In the ensuing fight, Iron Man and I were able to apprehend Scarlet Witch and Hawkeye, and also liberate Sgt. Paxton, who in the mean time had been taken hostage by Barton in an effort to facilitate his and his compatriots' escape. Sam Wilson, the Falcon, managed to run off, taking my father with him."

Now the whispers exploded to full on chatter. The journalists were exchanging impressed and heated comments, wanting to know more.

Hope had to wait for a long moment before she was able to speak again: "Barton and Maximoff are currently in custody, and will soon be put on trial for international terrorism, criminal assault, trespassing, destruction of property and several other charges for their actions in Leipzig, Germany and in Berwick, Pennsylvania. The rest of the so-called 'Team Captain America' is still at large, now presumably along with Hank Pym. I want to stress out that Dr. Pym is not, in any way, shape or form, acting against his free will in aiding and abetting Rogers and his team. Therefore, he should not be judged any differently than them."

Ouch, Christine thought, I sense a lot of pre-existing daddy issues here...

"There is one more thing I want to address, and it's the fallout that the skirmish in San Francisco will cause to Pym Technologies. Considering how the founder and former CEO of Pym Technologies is now confirmed to be involved with international terrorists, the stocks of my company are probably already dropping vertically as we speak. To prevent this from hitting PymTech too hard, I have brokered a deal with Stark Industries' CEO, Pepper Potts, and it's controlling shareholder, Tony Stark: Stark Industries will buy a non-controlling quota of Pym Technologies' shares, amounting to twenty-five per cent of the company's total value, at the market price those shares held two days ago. This deal has been already voted on and approved by the Directive Boards of both Companies, and has already been put in effect. Hopefully, it will keep Pym Technologies afloat despite Hank Pym's actions."

The tension in the room was electric. The journalists were now talking loudly among themselves, some impressed by Tony's willingness to help out the 'enemy', others giggling about how they would love to see Hank Pym's face when he got the news.

Van Dyne concluded: "As I said: today is a good day for the Avengers, but a sad day for me personally. My actions in San Francisco led to the capture of Clint Barton and Wanda Maximoff, but things could have taken a really ugly turn had Iron Man not been there to intervene. I stand before you, before Tony Stark, before my fellow Avengers and before the world, to admit my mistakes, to ask for your understanding and forgiveness, and to promise that I will not commit those mistakes again. I can, and will, be better than this."

She glanced in Tony's direction, to her right, as she said those words. Tony simply nodded once at her, solemnly. Hope turned back to her audience: "Thank you all for your time" she said, stepping down from the podium.

As usual, Christine was the one who recovered the fastest: "Ms. Van Dyne! Is there anything you want to personally say to your father?" she asked loudly as Hope was turning to leave.

The chattering of her colleagues had somewhat died down at Christine's question. She looked briefly in Tony and Ms. Potts' direction. Pepper was narrowing her eyes at her like a teacher trying to chastise an unruly kid, and Tony just smiled, whispering something in Pepper's ear. Probably something along the lines of 'I told you so' or 'Typical of Christine Everhart'.

"As a matter of fact, I do," said Hope, back on the podium and catching Christine's attention again, "Dad, ever since I have memory you always operated under one, absolute assumption: Stark is a sinonym of evil. Look at where we are now: Iron Man saved me from being slaughtered by your associates. Stark Industries is saving your company from the disaster you caused. And Tony Stark has shown more understanding and empathy towards me than you ever did. He has already forgiven me for how I messed up trying to catch you and your terrorist friends. He listens to me and to the rest of his team, he accepts criticism, and he owns up to his mistakes."

Hope's eyes narrowed dangerously as she shook her head with contempt and looked straight into the nearest camera:

"Anthony Edward Stark is, by a landslide, a better man than you can possibly hope to become."

This time, even Christine was left speechless. The only noise that could be heard in the room was the sound of Hope Van Dyne's high heels clicking on the floor as she walked away.

The video had gone viral in less than three seconds.

It looked like a recording from a cellphone or a tablet, but was a good enough definition that almost nobody questioned its authenticity.

It started with Iron Man and Lady Iron dropping from the sky and landing on the helipad of the Avengers Compound. Then, as they walked towards the building, both their helmets retracted, showing their faces.

The camera zoomed in on Lady Iron's face as she talked and laughed with Iron Man while they walked. The audio was too low to hear what they were saying, but the video got a ten seconds long glimpse at the mysterious Avenger's face before her and Tony disappeared inside the Compound.

Ever since her first mission, Lady Iron had been an Internet sensation. She had more hits on Google Search than any other Avenger, Iron Man included. She had more hits than Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga put together. So when this video went online, Youtube's servers nearly crashed. The same happened to several social networks, which positively exploded with reuploads of the twenty seconds video and comments and speculations about Lady Iron's true identity.

The next day all the newspapers in the United States had Lady Iron's helmet-less picture on the first page, followed by pages and pages of articles on the mysterious girl.

The news of Hawkeye and Scarlet Witch's capture was, in the best case, at page 4. PymTech's 19% drop in stock value and SI bailing it out was around pages 15 to 20, when it was mentioned. Some newspapers didn't talk about it at all.

Tony was holding a copy of a newspaper with a satisfied smirk. The main title was 'Lady Iron drops the mask!' with a gigantic picture of Friday's face right under it.

"Looks like it worked," he said, dropping the paper on the table, "for a while, all the paparazzi on the East Coast are going to chase down Friday. Should give PymTech a bit more room to breathe. They'll leave you guys alone for the most part."

Hope smiled at him, then looked at his daughter: "I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough, Friday. There's no going back now. Your face is out there."

Friday shrugged: "It doesn't change much, they still don't know who I really am. Plus, sooner or later the media was going to catch me out of the armor, anyway. Might as well use it to our advantage."

Hope just smiled gratefully: "Still, you weren't under any obligation to help me out. You didn't owe me anything-"

"Yeah, you were very kind, Fri. Not saying I wouldn't have helped her, but I probably would have let her roast her butt on the coals for a few days before helping. Considering she didn't really deserve to be helped." came Rhodey's stern voice.

Hope's grateful and cheerful mood was instantly soured as she rolled her eyes at the Colonel: "Rhodes, I've already admitted that I was wrong and said I'm sorry. Publicly. To the Press. What else do you want?"

"Romanoff admitted she was wrong and said she was sorry for Leipzig, and yet it didn't save her from two years of house arrest. But you just say 'I'm sorry, I'll do better next time', and suddendly it's all good..." Rhodey replied acidly.

"Okay, what the fuck is your problem!?" Hope asked, losing her patience.

"You are! I don't trust you as far as I can throw you! And considering the state of my legs, I can't really throw you very far!" Rhodey replied, nonplussed.

"Rhodey, come on now. Give the probie a break," intervened Tony in a light, joking tone, before the two started trying to mutilate each other, "Besides, Friday's outing took the media's attention away from Barton and Maximoff's capture too. The less people trying to find out where those two are being kept, the better. All the more difficult for Rogers to gather intel about it, right?"

Rhodey just scoffed, looking away: "Yeah, whatever..."

Hope's phone vibrated. She took it out and looked at it for a few seconds before turning to Tony: "It's Paxton. That lead on Scott I told you about, remember?"

Tony grew serious: "Yeah. Alright, go. I'll meet you there in two days."

Hope nodded and left the room. Rhodey called after her: "try not to pull a Rogers again, Ant Girl..."

Hope kept walking, giving Rhodey the middle finger without turning back, and nearly bumping into a newly arriving Sharon as she left the room.

Sharon eyed Hope's retreating form curiously before turning a questioning gaze at Tony.

Rhodey addressed her instead: "Sharry Bear, can you do me a solid and go to San Francisco with Tony in two days?" he asked her, as he used his crutches to stand up and walk away from the table.

Sharon blinked twice: "Uh... okay, sure... if you stop calling me Sharry Bear. Why do you want me to go with Tony, exactly?" Sharon queried, still confused.

"Because I don't want to leave Tony alone in Van Dyne's clutches," the airman said, limping out of the room without adding anything else.

Sharon watched him leave. She turned to Friday for answers, but the girl just shrugged: "I would go with Boss myself if he really needed protection, but this isn't an Avengers mission, just following a possible lead. It's highly unlikely Boss will be in any danger. So, I'd rather stay here and keep an eye on Maximoff instead. I can do it remotely, but I promised Vision he wouldn't have to deal with her, so if we need to physically intervene to restrain her, I'd prefer to be here and keep my word. Colonel Rhodes is just slightly overreacting to Ms. Van Dyne's actions a few days ago. And she's responding in kind, acting aggressively towards him."

Sharon smiled knowingly: "Huh. Well, I did notice some... tension... between them," she said.

She turned to Tony, who was smiling her exact same smile: "Yup. I noticed that 'tension' too..."

Friday gave them a quizzical look: "I fail to understand what... oh. Oooh!" She smiled too, finally taking the hint.

All three burst out laughing.