Peter Parker
He is so close to escaping.
His freedom may only be a few steps away, but to Peter, it might as well be on the other side of the building.
He feels awful.
Taking a step forward, he winces, pain shooting down his body. He shakes his head, trying to will the pain away.
He can't back down now, not today. He can't afford to mess this up. After all, who knows when he'll get a chance like this again?
But first, he needs to make sure the coast is clear.
Taking another step forward, he peaks around the corner.
Damn it. It looks like there are other people in the room. He may have to wait this one out.
His eyes fall on the only object in the room that is making a noise: the TV.
A newswoman appears on the screen.
"Startling reports are coming in from across Manhattan." A grim look spreads across her face.
"It is now thought that up to sixty-four people have been severely injured or killed in enhanced attacks across the city from this week alone."
She readjusts her papers. "This is a rise from last week's own shocking figures, with members of the public outraged by what feels like little action from both the NYPD and TIA."
"In a statement, Mayor Randolph Cherry urges the public to stay vigilant, and to report if there is any suspected enhanced activity or individuals around." A row of numbers appears on the bottom of the screen, one linking to the NYPD hotline. The other is for TIARA, the Iron Army's hotline.
The camera slowly zooms away from the newswoman to a larger group of presenters sitting around a table. They all share the same grave expression.
The first to speak up shakes her head in disbelief. "This is unacceptable." She says, her voice astounded. "How can we in good faith tell our viewers that this is what we should expect from the NYPD? That this is how the government should treat us?" She lets out a laugh, though it isn't one filled with joy. "That's all Cherry has to say, stay vigilant? What an insult."
The camera cuts to a different presenter. "I believe it would be naive to blame everything on just the government. They can only do so much. No, I believe the real problem here is TIA."
An older presenter nods in agreement. "I think everyone here can agree that they should be doing more." Some of the panel nod in agreement, whereas the newswoman looks concerned.
The first presenter continues. "We put our faith in them to keep the public safe from these enhanced individuals and yet each day TIA members seem to be more focused on gaining stardom or political power. It's atrocious!"
"Speaking of stardom," The older presenter scoffs. "...where the hell is Tony Stark in all this?"
That gets a reaction out of the panel. Some dramatically sigh, while others look agitated by the mere mention of the name.
The older presenter continues. "Isn't he supposed to be running that clown show?" The presenter beside him rolls their eyes. "It's ridiculous. He lives in New York! There is no way he doesn't know what is going on here. Or does he just sit up there in his lavish tower all day, watching the people he promised to protect suffer?
"Give me a break!" An angry presenter yells, crossing his arms in disappointment. "While he may be in charge of the Iron Army, he certainly doesn't act like it. That coward is still in hiding! We haven't seen him since the Chitauri invasion. How can w-"
The newswoman interrupts. "We must remind our viewers that whilst every member of our panel has a right to their opinion, it is not a representation of this network. Everyone here at WRPZ truly appreciates the work done by TIA in the 2012 invasion." She looks past the camera, to what Peter presumes is a bunch of worried staff.
Yeah. Peter thinks. More like WRPZ doesn't want to get sued.
"Right! Of course." The angry presenter agrees sarcastically. "But three years have now passed. Us New Yorkers have rebuilt this city! And how do they thank us? They leave us to the enhanced! The freaks of nature! Those who believe they are better than us and brutalize anyone who thinks otherwise! They're quite literally, feeding us to the wolves!" The angry presenter bangs his hands on the desk, startling a few of the other presenters.
"Jonah, there is no need for that." The older presenter says, looking over at him with disapproval.
The presenter known as Jonah seems to only grow angrier. "This is the exact time for this! Why, would you rather us all wait around whilst the enhanced grow stronger, before they start killing us in the streets, oh wait!" He raises his voice. "They're already doing that! I say we get them first, round them up, and shoo-"
The camera switches to the presenter sitting furthest from Jonah, but his shouts can still be heard through their microphones.
The presenter on-screen looks disturbed but tries their best to regain control of the situation. "I'm sure that at this very moment, TIA and the NYPD are doing their best to protect our streets. We must have faith."
"Faith?!" Jonah's shout echoes in the background.
The newswoman comes into view. "We would all do good to remember that the members of TIA know just as much as everyone else how important this fight against the enhanced is." Her eyes dart back and forth between the camera and the scene happening beside her.
She smiles, regaining some of her composure. "In fact, the ten-year anniversary of Nathan Stark's untimely death is approaching soon. Tonight, you'll be able to catch the two-hour shocking documentary on his life right here, on WRPZ."
"You think I care- about some rich brat- hey, HEY! What are you doing, get off me!" Jonah's shouts grow quieter in the background, his hands flailing into sight as the cameras keep switching between all the baffled-looking presenters.
Peter tries to suppress a laugh.
The newswoman looks desperately at the screen, clearing her throat. "Onto other news-"
The screen suddenly turns off.
May stands beside the TV, her hand hovering over the power switch.
"Enough of that. Listening to any more will give me a headache." She shares a look with Ben, who stands in the kitchen. He nods appreciatively in response.
Ben turns back to flip the eggs over on the stove before he catches Peter's eye.
Oops. He's been spotted.
"Ah! Good morning Pete." He sends Peter a smile, one way too vibrant for how early it is.
Peter in return, yawns. "Mornin'." He mumbles, shuffling his way into the kitchen, stepping out from behind the corner he had been hiding behind.
May turns to look at him, frowning. "Ah, honey, what's wrong? Why do you look so..." She pauses, looking like she's trying to find the right word.
Apparently, that word is: "...blegh."
Peter raises an eyebrow. "Blegh?"
"Yeah, blegh." She places a hand on his forehead. "You don't seem to have a temperature."
Stepping back from his aunt, Peter shakes his head. "That's because I don't have one. I feel... fine. Great even." He stands a little straighter, hoping to convince her.
It doesn't.
"Let me just get-" She holds her finger up in front of him, before darting off behind him.
Peter looks over to Ben, who has now turned all his attention onto him. He also looks concerned. "Have to agree with May here Pete. You look..."
Peter relaxes his posture, figuring that plan had already failed. "Yeah, blegh. I get it." He mumbles, shuffling his way to the dinner table. "I can't afford to miss school though. Not today." He sits down.
Ben raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "You can totally miss a day. In fact," His eyes fall on his report card stuck to the fridge. He smiles proudly. "...looks like you can afford to miss a few."
"No, it's not that." Peter mumbles, fidgeting with his hoodie.
"Oh?" Ben questions, looking intrigued. Too intrigued.
Nope. He really didn't want to have this conversation. Not with Ben. Not when he was already feeling lightheaded.
Peter looks away from Ben, a blush crossing his face.
"Ohhhh." Ben echoes, his smile getting wider. He pokes Peter in the shoulder, speaking in a dramatic whispered voice. "Is this about Liz?"
From how Ben reacted a few moments later, Peter could guess that his face had gotten redder.
Damn it. Betrayed by his own face.
Ben laughs, turning his back to Peter to finish cooking the eggs. "So that's why you just tried to sneak past us this morning."
"You knew I was there?" Peter asks solemnly.
"Don't worry Romeo, you nearly made it." Peter covers his face with his hoodie, earning another chuckle from his uncle. " I heard you laugh when they pulled that idiot off the TV."
"Ugh, so close." Peter sinks further into the hoodie.
Ben places the scrambled eggs and toast on a plate and turns back to Peter, putting it on the table. "So," he starts, sitting opposite him. "remind me. What was it that you had to do with Liz today?"
"Wearegoingtopresentaprojecttogether." He mumbles quickly, only his glasses and forehead peeking out the top of his hoodie now.
Ben's eyebrows raise. "Come again?"
"We are going to present a project together." He repeats, clearer this time.
Ben feigns a gasp. "Ah, of course! I remember now. The one about ants right?"
This gets Peter to sit up. "You knew that already, didn't you!"
Ben's laugh answers that.
This is all that guy, Jonah's fault. He could've been out of the door by now, free from ridicule but instead- "Ugh. You suck."
Ben ruffles Peter's hair, nodding. "I know I do." Peter doesn't think Ben could sound more joyful. "Either way, you can't go in if you're not well. I'm sure Liz would understand."
"But-" Peter starts, moving away from Ben's hand.
"I'm doing you a favor Pete, just think." He interrupts, holding that same hand in front of his face. "Do you really want her to look at you while you're all unwell and sick and think..."
Ben pauses, pulling the same face that May had in front of him moments ago.
"...Blegh?" Peter finishes, horror in his tone.
Ben nods. "That would be a disaster right? So you need to look after yourself. And if not for yourself, then do it for Liz and her army of ants."
Peter's eyes widened, the thought of Liz looking disgusted at him haunting his thoughts.
But Liz wasn't like that right? No, of course not. She was so nice!
He's not even entirely sure that Liz could pull a disgusted face. Not when she was so unphased by the giant ants Abe had brought in. In fact, she was so engrossed in them that he couldn't turn her down when she wanted to use it as their joint project, despite the fact that Peter is terrified of bugs.
She seemed especially fascinated by the fact that ants, when infected with a certain type of fungus, could also turn into zombies.
He shivers at the thought.
May came back into the room, lightly hitting Ben on his shoulder with the thermometer. "Stop that! You'll make him self-conscious." The smile didn't leave Ben's lips.
She turned to Peter. "Okay, open your mouth."
"I'm fine May." He repeats, leaning back in his chair and away from the stick in her hand.
"Uh no, I'm not going to send you to school with a fever Peter. So come on, open up."
Sighing, Peter did so, waiting as May studied the thermometer sternly. When she pulled it out, she looked between Ben and Peter, throwing her hands up in the air.
"So you don't have a fever..." She starts.
Yes! Finally something this morning was going his way.
"See?" He responds, smiling alongside his uncle.
May turns back to him. "No, no. No celebrating yet. Something's up."
Peter blinks. "Why would you say that?"
Ben in front of him shakes his head, crossing his arms. "Agh, you didn't even deny it Pete. Should have stuck with the denial."
May gasps, turning back to Ben. "Hey! Whose side are you on?"
"Seriously May, Ben, I'm fine. I just didn't get much sleep last night." Peter says, holding his hands up in surrender.
He wasn't lying. He really didn't get much sleep that night.
They didn't need to know that was because his limbs suddenly, out of nowhere, decided to weigh what felt like a million pounds.
That and the continuous overwhelming urge to vomit for the last twenty-four hours.
He hadn't actually vomited though. In fact, he was super proud of himself for keeping everything down.
A small victory for Peter Parker.
He figured his aunt and uncle wouldn't feel the same way about that.
May raises her eyebrows, bouncing the thermometer between her fingers. "You sure you're not just saying that because of your presentation?" She smiles.
Apparently, the teasing wasn't over yet. He really hated Jonah.
"May -" He stands up from his chair, stepping away from the table-
...and the eggs, because honestly, that wasn't doing him any favors right now. He swears he could smell everything in this room.
May holds her hands up in surrender, chuckling. "Okay, okay. I hear you. But if you start feeling any worse-"
"I feel fine."
"... then now, promise me you'll just head back home." She finishes, placing her hands on Peter's shoulders.
"I promise." Peter responds, sending her his most earnest smile.
It seems to have worked.
"Okay now back up," She lifts her hands off Peter's shoulders like she's been electrocuted. "...because I cannot afford to catch whatever cold you have caught."
Peter sniffles loudly in response, earning another laugh from Ben.
May points the thermometer between the two of them. "If I get sick, just know that the two of you are going to have to deal with sick me. And trust me, it's not pretty."
Ben stands up from the table, placing his and Peter's plate on the counter. "Impossible." He turns and wraps his arms around May's shoulders. "I imagine even at your bleghiest you're still the prettiest woman in the world."
Ugh. Peter didn't want to be here for this.
May laughs in Ben's arms, before planting a quick kiss on his lips. "I have to go. As tempted as I am to take a sick day myself." She turns back to Peter, pointing at him. "Send me a text at lunch to let me know how you're feeling, okay?"
Peter grimaces.
The school project wasn't the only reason Peter had attempted to leave unnoticed that morning. He had also wanted to avoid worrying May and Ben.
Peter being sick was not a new thing. He had never been the healthiest child. Between the asthma, vision loss, and most importantly, the lack of a fighting immune system, he had found himself in many mornings of a frantic aunt and uncle trying to figure, and not freak out, how to take care of him. It had been that way ever since he could remember.
As the years progressed, Peter found himself feeling guiltier about it. As if it wasn't bad enough that they had to adopt a six-year-old without any warning, they also had to deal with all of his problems. Not that they ever complained or blamed Peter. They had never suggested or acted like it even bothered them. But Peter could only imagine. They were still both young and completely unprepared for a kid, let alone one that seemed to fall over at the slightest of breezes.
One of his earliest memories with his aunt and uncle was them driving through New York in the depths of a Christmas night trying to find an open pharmacy that would sell them the right medication to ease his fever.
Ben always loved telling the story of the first Christmas they had with Peter. He recounted to him that when they had finally found a pharmacy, the pharmacist had looked at them in horror wondering why they had decided to bring Peter along instead of keeping him at home. Apparently, Peter himself had insisted that he be brought along. May and Ben had made the mistake of telling Peter that Santa was going to sneak through his windows to deliver his presents ("Okay don't look at me like that. We live in flats, we don't have a chimney. I had to improvise!") and shockingly, Peter was not keen on that idea of a man crawling through his window. He had proceeded to latch himself onto his aunt and uncle, refusing to leave either of their sides. Not knowing what to do, they figured bringing the six-year-old along with them wouldn't be such an issue. They had later found out through the disgruntled pharmacist that they were in fact, very wrong.
That night, as if to ease their guilt, they bought every gift they could get from a pharmacist for Peter. "We felt so bad..." Ben had muttered, "and also slightly scared of that pharmacist. The look she gave us was terrifying Peter, it was a Christmas miracle she let us out of the store".
Those presents ranged from Christmas-themed band-aids to the reindeer hot water bottle they still kept in the kitchen cupboard.
It had ended up becoming a tradition.
Every Christmas they would buy each other a present from the dingiest pharmacy in memory of the first one they spent as a family. Peter for years thought this was a normal Christmas tradition, until he had asked Ned what he was getting his family from the local pharmacy for the holidays. The only answer Peter got was a confused look.
Very quickly, Peter learned that his family wasn't how others 'normally' were. They were different and acted so. May and Ben never acted like his parents, because they weren't. They were his aunt and uncle, and they kept it that way. The three of them were a team, figuring things out one step at a time.
Considering his circumstances, Peter couldn't have asked for a better childhood. And he owed that purely to his aunt and uncle.
So if could do anything to avoid adding to their concern, he would do it.
Unfortunately, however, today seemed especially bad. This didn't feel like it normally did.
Perhaps he was coming down with something a little worse? Maybe he should consider getting the flu shot like May had always suggested.
"Peter?" May interrupts his thoughts. "Text us at lunch?" She repeats.
Peter nods, trying to hide the pain from the worsening headache. "I will."
"Great. Also," She pauses, before sending a wink toward him, "good luck with Liz today." ...and escapes out the door.
Peter turns around to face a smirking Ben, his face a brighter red than before. "You are so embarrassing, the both of you." He squeaks out.
Ben shrugs, cleaning up the kitchen. "That's what you get for trying to sneak out this morning."
"Yeah, yeah. I won't try that again." He mumbles, heading over to the corner to retrieve his hidden backpack, before turning towards the door.
Peter throws a hand up to wave at Ben. "See y-"
"Uh no. Stop. Where do you think you're going?" Ben interrupts, stepping in front of Peter.
Peter blinks. Did he just black out the last five minutes? With the headache he has, it's not impossible.
"I'm headed to... school?" He says, confused. "Didn't you hear May say I can go?"
Ben walks over to the counter, retrieving his car keys. "You thought you were walking to school today?" He twirls them in his hand. "Not happening. I have today off, I'll drive you there."
Peter perks up at this. "Really?"
Honestly, he was relieved. He wasn't a hundred percent convinced that he would have made it walking to school. And if he did, well.
The ants wouldn't be the only walking zombies at Midtown.
Like he could read his mind, Ben continued. "Pete, you look like you're just clinging onto the land of the living. Let's keep it that way." He opens the door, gesturing for Peter to go through.
Peter does so, heading down the block of stairs towards the car park where Ben's Mustang is.
It's his work car, very inconspicuously decorated with bold NYPD letters painted on both sides. Not the most popular car in the neighborhood, albeit, in any neighborhood, but right now it's Peter's knight in shining armor.
He practically falls into the car, earning a concerned glance from Ben, who slowly slides in next to him.
"You sure you want to do this Pete? Jokes aside, you look like you really shouldn't be heading in today."
Peter shakes his head, fighting the temptation to place his face on the cold glass window. "No, no. I'm good. I swear."
"Do you believe if you say it enough times, it'll come true?" Ben asks, turning the car's ignition on.
Peter nods. "That's a thing you know. Manifestation. You say something enough times, it'll happen." He mumbles, watching as the car leaves the parking area.
Ben raises an eyebrow. "What?"
"Manifestation. Liz was telling everyone about it the other day. She says it's a great way to keep positive."
"Uh huh."
Peter rolls his eyes. "MJ doesn't believe it exists either. She thinks it's better to set yourself up for failure. Then no matter the outcome, you'll always come out on top."
"Oh right. There's Michelle too." Ben says, tapping the wheel, the car coming to a stop at a light. He stares at Peter with a knowing look.
Unfortunately, Peter isn't picking up what Ben is putting down.
"What?" He asks, sending Ben a confused look.
Ben ignores this, tilting his head. "So, out of curiosity. What does Michelle think of Liz? Does she like her?"
Peter furrows his eyebrows. Is this Ben attempting to make small conversation?
"I'm not convinced a hundred percent of the time that MJ even likes me or Ned, let alone Liz." He replies, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess they clash sometimes."
"Oh?" The car starts moving again.
"Liz is like… super protective of her dad. He works for some important government job."
Ben nods, understanding where this is going. "And let me guess, Michelle doesn't agree with his work."
"Yep." Peter replies, looking back towards the cold glass window.
It was only a few months ago that Peter had found himself in the same place Liz was.
MJ had discovered that his uncle worked for the NYPD when he had turned up at the school to pick Peter up. At the time, their friendship was brand new, so this was the first time she had walked with Ned and himself out of the school.
When Ben spotted the trio, he naively walked over, exclaiming that he was happy to meet Peter's new friend, calling her MJ. Not Michelle.
The look she threw at his uncle was not a kind one.
Ben hadn't made that same mistake again. MJ could be really scary when she wanted to be.
It hadn't impacted their friendship though. In fact, it didn't seem to phase MJ at all. The next day she even tried to console Peter, saying that no one can choose their family members.
He had, to his credit, tried to defend his uncle. But he knew a losing battle when he saw one.
"She's a special one, that Michelle." Ben says.
"You sound old when you talk like that." Peter grumbles.
Ben laughs. "I'll take that as a compliment! I'm already practicing my old man jokes. You want to hear some?"
Ugh, no. He doesn't.
But that doesn't stop him from smiling. "I can totally picture you as some grumpy old guy. Shouting at kids to get off your lawn-"
"What was that?" Ben interrupts loudly, leaning towards Peter. "I can't hear you, you're going to have to speak up! My darn hearing aid fell out again!"
Peter's smile grows. "Oh my god."
Ben squints his eyes, shaking the steering wheel, making the car lightly wobble. "I must've dropped my dang glasses somewhere, I can't see!"
Peter giggles. "Stop! I already feel sick!" He shouts, though his tone joyful.
Thank god he didn't eat those eggs for breakfast. "You're like some cartoon level old guy."
Ben stops wiggling the car, smiling to himself. "Cartoon? No, I was going more for what your grandpa was like." The tapping on the steering wheel returns.
"Ah Pete, you would've loved him. He was like a man taken straight out of a 1940s sitcom. Your dad and I learned all our best tricks from watching that man trying to figure out the world one complaint at a time."
This wasn't the first time he had heard about his Grandpa and his quirky or insane, as May had previously insisted, ways. She had always deducted that Grandpa Parker had something to do with why the Parkers had ridiculously bad luck. Like one day he sold his soul or lost a card game to the devil.
Which considering what happened to all their family members, might not be far off.
"I'm... wait." Ben holds up his finger. "I'm manifesting my older self right now." He pauses, before his eyes widen comically. "I can see it Peter. It looks fantastic!"
That... isn't how it works.
Peter wants to correct him, but relents. "You really look forward to getting old?" He asks, readjusting himself in his seat. It didn't help, he still felt terrible.
Ben nods. "It's a privilege to get old. In fact, I've already got my eyes on a specific walking stick. There's a matching one too, for May - just promise me you won't tell her about it yet. It's a surprise." He winks.
Peter rolls his eyes again. God his uncle is so weird. "I'm sure she'll love it."
Ben hums, slowing the car down as it approaches Midtown. "Okay buddy. You know the rules. Let us know if you feel any worse, presentation or not." He gives Peter a stare.
Oh god. If this is how they are acting when he has a crush, how would they act if things went further?
Peter cringes at the thought.
"I will." He promises, opening the car door.
Feeling the fresh air hit him makes Peter reconsider attending school that day, as his entire body freezes up. Was it always this cold this time of the year?
He shakes his head, getting out of the car, turning back to say his goodbyes.
Ben smiles at him. "Knock it out the park, Parker."
"Ugh, you're so embarrassing." He repeats, throwing Ben a similar smile.
"Then I'm doing my job right!" Ben shouts, throwing his hand up in a wave before he drives off, leaving Peter on the sidewalk outside his school.
Peter turns to face Midtown, giving himself a moment to calm his sudden rampant nerves. You can do this Peter. You got this.
He takes a step forward and starts heading toward his school.
…
Tony Stark
"Startling reports are coming in from across Manhattan."
Not exactly the words someone wants to wake up to.
Tony groans, his eyes struggling to open. They refuse to cooperate with him, so he decides to close them again, welcoming the comforting darkness.
Unfortunately, the woman continues speaking.
"It is now thought that up to sixty-four people have been severely injured or killed-"
Why is she still speaking?
He tries to open his mouth to command the sound to be switched off, but all that comes out is further groans. With his eyes still closed, his hands roam the couch, his movements still caught in the clutches of sleep.
His hand falls on what he assumes to be a cushion. He quickly pushes it over his ears, trying to let sleep take him again.
"Where the hell is Tony Stark in all this?"
Trying to sleep. He thinks, his irritation growing. He presses the cushion harder over his ears.
"Or does he just sit up there in his lavish tower all day, watching the people he promised to protect suffer?"
The tower wasn't really that lavish. The one in charge of overseeing the design of the building had insisted on keeping it in theme with the surrounding buildings. So if anyone had a problem with the design, they should take it up with the rest of New York City.
Not that he could really blame her for wanting to keep their new home low-key. After all, the last place they'd been living in quite literally blew up.
"Give me a break! While he may be in charge of the Iron Army, he certainly doesn't act like it."
Finally something he agrees with. After all, the reason he doesn't act like he's in charge is because he isn't . Not anymore.
Didn't they get the memo? He's done. On leave. A permanent vacation.
Now he can commit his days to do whatever the hell he wants. Because he can.
If he wants to spend the entire day sampling Macallan Whiskey, then so be it. He doesn't have to answer to anyone anymore. Not to Howard, not Obadiah, not Fury and his never-ending war-
Tony lets out another groan, throwing the pillow to the floor.
Damn it. He's awake now.
As if to spite the voices, Tony refuses to open his eyes, instead turning around on the couch to face away from them. The sound of bottles rattling around him, further convincing him not to take a look at what his surroundings looked like.
He doesn't remember falling asleep on the couch. Then again, he doesn't remember much from yesterday... or the past week-
Whilst the voices engage in some sort of disagreement, he feels himself drifting off again, the sounds numbing.
That is until the woman's voice speaks up again.
"In fact, the ten year anniversary of Nathan S-"
His eyes fly open.
"FRIDAY, switch that off."
Despite being seconds away from saying that himself, he hadn't. Someone else was in the room.
"God, Tony. You look awful."
He knows that voice. Could pick it out of thousands. He just wishes that certain voice was not in the room at that moment.
Maybe if he just shuts his eyes he'll just-
"Uh no. Don't pretend to be asleep. I know you're awake."
-open them back up of course. What a great time to wake up. He's only doing this because he wants to. Living by his own rules is great. Totally.
Tony wipes his hand over his face, yawning. "I would never."
The sound of bottles clashing together echo behind him, followed by a disappointed sigh. "I thought you were past all..." She pauses. Tony assumes she gestures to the mess around the apartment. "...this. Is this where you've been for the last few weeks?" She asks, concerned.
Tony turns his back to face Pepper.
She looks the same, the same perfect Pepper. Looking at her, you would never think she had gone through everything she had. Forever professional and smart, both in looks and in her mind. She was one of the smartest people Tony knew - correction. Smartest and the most beautiful.
It turns out that Pepper Potts could pull off almost anything. She stands there, staring at him in disappointment, with a trash bag in hand.
He realizes too late that he's been staring at her for a second too long.
"Week. Singular." He corrects, trying to sound as casual as possible. "I've been away. I'm actually surprised you didn't know that already."
Pepper frowns. "You never told me."
"Sure I did."
"No." She replies quickly. "No you didn't. I had to find out from Natasha that it wasn't just me you had disappeared on."
That surprises Tony. "You spoke to Natasha? I thought you two didn't get along."
Pepper now shares Tony's surprised look. "What? Where did you get that idea?" She pauses, picking up a glass bottle and throwing it in the bag. "I didn't like her in the beginning, sure. But that was ages ago." A sad look crosses Pepper's face. "If you were around more, you'd know that."
Tony throws his arms up in the air, ignoring the lethargy that follows it. "I'm here now, aren't I?"
The next bottle is thrown into the bag more harshly. "I would hardly consider this," This time Tony sees her gesture to the room. "...as being around."
"This is what self-care looks like Pepper." He says, standing up from the couch, only to stumble over from the sudden movement.
Pepper raises her eyebrows. "Right."
Tony corrects himself, wrapping his sleeping gown tighter around his waist. God, he needed some caffeine. Or something stronger. How looked down upon was drinking first thing after waking up again?
Pepper distracts him from his thoughts. "So are you going to tell me where you've been for the last few weeks?"
"Well, I've been here for the last week."
"You just told me that."
Tony agrees enthusiastically. "Yes. Yes, I did, which see?" He points to her. "I do tell you things."
"Tony."
"What?"
Pepper takes a deep breath, sending Tony a worried look. "Where have you been?"
As much as he loved Pepper, that was something he couldn't share with her. Not right now.
So instead, Tony deflected.
"Wouldn't it be much cooler if that remained a mystery?" Tony says, turning Pepper's worried look into an annoyed one. He continues nonetheless.
"I mean, I could have gone anywhere if it's up to the imagination. You know the Wall Street Journal had this article speculating that I've been hiding away in a station on the moon? The moon."
Tony sends Pepper a disgusted look, before continuing. "Not that it would be outside the realm of possibility for me. I mean, we could get our people up there in some station in what, six months?"
"You know, I read that article." Pepper says, sounding discouraged.
"You did?"
"I figured I might as well. It's not like it would be the first time I would be getting information about you from an outside source."
Uh oh. Pepper looked more than annoyed, she was pissed.
He was starting to think that maybe leaving Pepper completely out of his plans wasn't the best move.
Good thing he was avoiding thinking this morning.
"You're right." Tony says. "We could get that space station done in four months."
"Tony." Pepper repeats, her patience thinning.
Tony sighs. "I've been away. Okay, Pep? Can we just leave it at that?"
It turns out, they can't.
Pepper sends Tony an offended look, dropping the trash bag onto the floor. "Leave it at that? Are you kidding me? Do you know what's been going on around here lately?"
No, and he wants to keep it that way. "By around here do you mean the tower or-"
"You know I don't mean the tower. Tony. It's been bad. Code 60 kind of bad." She says, walking closer towards him.
"And I couldn't even get a whole grasp on what was going on because SHIELD and TIA won't let anything be said to me before it went through you. Tony Stark. Who at that point was MIA." Pepper says the last bit with distaste, throwing Tony an angry look.
He understood why Pepper clearly wasn't too happy about being blocked from getting information. But in his defense, he had put that in place to make it safer for her, not to make her feel worse. He didn't get the chance to say this before Pepper started talking again.
"Do you even care how worried I've been? And it's not just me either. Everyone has been worried about you. And they keep coming to me like I know something! Like I knew where you ran off to..." She pauses, her face falling. "but I didn't. I had no idea where you were.
"While you've been away doing whatever it is you do, I've been trying to keep this company afloat. A company which, by the way, is having to dodge countless questions from the press over where you've been-"
"Right, like that's anything new." Tony scoffs.
She ignores his comment. "-and just when it seems like I finally got everything under control... right when I found the right balance between addressing and avoiding, I find out that you've been back for a week?" Her words speed up. "A week Tony! I've been working in this building not even knowing you're up here! You didn't even have the audacity to let us kn-"
"Hey, hey Pep. Look," Tony stops her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You need to breathe. Not breathing? It is not a great look on you."
"Can you for once just be serious about this?" She looks him straight in the eye, her voice stern. "Whatever hold Fury had over Ross doesn't seem to be working anymore. What we were worried about before is coming true."
The pit in Tony's stomach starts to swell.
Either Pepper doesn't notice, or doesn't care. She continues. "Right now, more than ever, I need you to communicate with me. We need to look like we're a united front."
Tony takes a deep breath, not wanting to ask the next question.
"United against who exactly?"
Pepper pauses, holding Tony's hands. "You know who." She says, her tone sad.
Tony knows what Pepper wants him to say. He knows that she wants him to snap out of it, and like others, become the man he once was. Leading TIA, as he was born to do.
The Iron Army. Howard Stark's greatest creation. One that he created to fight against the war he inevitability helped with Erskine to start himself.
A war that now Tony was stuck fighting for his entire life.
Well, his entire life minus the last three years give or take. He had stepped away, finally stepping out from under his father's shadow and into freedom.
...If freedom looked like bouts of alcoholism and bad, his own life decisions.
Tony had decided he had earned it after everything he had been through. The last few years, specifically the decade had been especially tough.
The breaking point just happened to be 2012. After all, how many people could say they saw what's really out there and live to tell the tale?
Aliens. Aliens.
The nuke heading toward New York.
An entire intergalactic fleet moments away from invading Earth-
Tony clenches his fists, trying to ground himself. Pepper is still in front of him, he needs to keep himself together.
And for that reason, Iron Man was on hiatus, pending indefinitely.
He turns away from Pepper, unable to look her in the eyes. He didn't want to see the disappointment on her face, not again. "I can't put the suit back on right now. I can't."
"That's... that's fine." She says, her tone hopeful.
Tony turns back around to her, surprised. What? Was this a new tactic?
Perhaps this was a trick. In his time away, maybe the team had been scheming different ways to get him back in the suit. It's possible.
Maybe they thought that by allowing Tony to believe it was okay not to be in the suit, he would want to be in the suit. Treated like a rebellious teenager. He could see it happening, no doubt a suggestion from Barton, Wilson, even Fury. Definitely Fury.
Seeing his surprise, she walks up to him, grabbing his hands. "I don't care about the suit right now. I don't need Iron Man. I just need Tony Stark."
That stumps Tony, leaving him with no words apart from: "Oh."
"Yeah." Pepper replies, not taking her eyes off his.
Tony stares back at Pepper, the guilt from before creeping back in.
He shouldn't have thought as low of Pepper to do something like that. He knew she had his back.
In fact, she was one of the only people who truly had it without wanting something like money or power in return. An endangered species in his line of work. So rare, that it had taken years to accept that he had actually found someone like that.
Deep down, he knew he could trust Pepper with anything. He knew better than that. He knew that if he told her everything, and just came clean, she would probably find a solution to his problems that he could never think of.
But he couldn't.
After all, those kinds of people were endangered for a reason.
What was it he did before to keep those thoughts away? Ah yes. Deflecting.
"Miss Potts," Tony pauses, his voice lowering. "...that was beautiful."
Pepper rolls her eyes slightly. "Well, I do try-"
"No seriously, how long have you been practicing that one in the mirror?"
"Oh, a few weeks in fact. In between reading ridiculous articles and searching for my incredibly ungrateful ass of a-"
"I am grateful." He corrects. His hands are still in Peppers. "I didn't mean to worry you. I promise the next time I fancy a trip to the moon, you'll be the first to know."
Pepper's eyebrows raise. "You promise?"
"Cross my heart and..." He releases Pepper's hands, waving his own flippantly. "...you know."
"I know." She repeats, a small smile crossing her face. However, the sadness has not completely left her eyes.
Looking away, Tony clears his throat. "So, when is it that you need this Tony Stark guy around? Just hypothetically speaking, of course. I heard he isn't planning on leaving the tower any time soon."
Pepper steps back, crossing her arms. "Referring to yourself in the third person now? Should I be more concerned?"
Tony shrugs. "Don't shoot the messenger."
"We need you back now. As in last week actually." She says, her frown returning.
"I'll think about it Pepper. I will." Tony repeats, hoping she sees his sincerity.
She seems to, as she uncrosses her arms and relaxes slightly. "Fine. In the meantime," Pepper pauses, picking up the trash bag on the floor. She walks over to Tony and drops it by his side. "clean up in here. That includes yourself." She says, looking a little displaced. "You look awful."
"Did you really have to say that again?" He questions, running his hand over his unshaven face.
Pepper ignores him. "And let the others know you're back too. They might be," She pauses, "...insistent. But they do care."
Tony stares. "Insistent? That's a polite way of putting it." He raises his eyebrows. "You really have been dealing with the press recently."
Pepper meets his stare. "They just want to know you're okay."
"We're talking about the same people, right?"
She rolls her eyes, turning towards the door. "We are." She starts walking towards the elevator, yelling behind her. "It will go a long way with them if you contact them yourself. They'll appreciate it... think about it Tony."
Tony watches as Pepper leaves his sight, his attention drawing to the room around him. He eyes the trash bag on the floor next time him.
Ah. That reminds him. He still needs to contact that person.
Not now though, he's had enough of communicating for the day. Today is for relaxing, deflecting, avoiding-
He thinks this as he picks up a bottle. This one is full and unopened.
Tony was fully awake now. Time to fix that.
end of chapter one