February 14, 2009
Tony Stark woke up in a cold, dark cave, attached to a car battery.
It took a day for Maggie to find out.
She'd been off the grid in Somalia, her phone off to avoid detection. It wasn't until she walked into a convenience store and spotted Tony's face on the TV over the cashier's head that a worm of unease made itself known in her gut. The footage of Tony was old, recycled. Maggie couldn't read Somali, but something about it sent a chill down her spine.
She walked straight out of the store again into the hot desert air, and switched on her phone.
It instantly started buzzing with all the notifications she'd missed, the screen actually glitching for a moment to keep up with the demand. She had dozens of missed calls from Rhodey, Pepper, Obie, and Happy, and her tracking programs had pinged hundreds of alerts. She watched as her news alert app blared headlines, all of which said pretty much the same thing:
TONY STARK KIDNAPPED AFTER WEAPONS DEMONSTRATION IN AFGHANISTAN
Maggie's heart plummeted to her feet. She stumbled, almost falling to the umber dirt, and her view of her phone screen blurred. She pressed one hand to her chest, as if checking to see if her heart had really stopped. Cold washed over her despite the arid air, lifting goosebumps on her skin.
With shaking fingers she called Rhodey back and pressed the phone to her ear. The cool plastic of it felt overwhelming, her skin suddenly oversensitive and the ringtone blaring in her ear.
Rhodey picked up after two rings. "Maggie-"
"Is it true?" she gasped, realizing that tears were spilling over her lips.
"It is. I'm so sorry, Maggie." He said it like Tony was dead. She sat down hard in the dirt outside the convenience store. "I was with him at the weapons demonstration outside Kabul, but his convoy was attacked. His body wasn't in the wreckage."
Maggie pulled her knees to her chest. "Who… who has him?" her voice sounded strange to her own ears - loud and shaking and broken.
"We're not sure." His voice was grainy. "You should head home, Maggie, we don't know yet what the situation is or if you could be in danger-"
She hadn't considered that. She looked around. A long stretch of empty road, with her rented motorbike parked nearby. "I'm fine," she said, trying to gather her thoughts. "No one knows where I am." She swallowed. She tried to imagine Tony being attacked. Tony being taken away from the wreckage of his convoy, surrounded by people with guns. Her stomach flipped. "Keep me updated, and I'll stay in touch."
"Maggie, what are you-"
She hung up on him and turned off her phone again before rising shakily from the dirt. She paced back to her bike, swung her leg over it, then fired up the engine and took off down the highway like she was being chased.
Maggie made it to Afghanistan the next day. She'd never been before and she didn't make herself known to anyone: she just based herself out of Kabul and got to work.
On the way Maggie had torn through all the information she could find. The world was in uproar at the kidnapping, every eye turned toward Afghanistan. And to her. Suddenly everyone wanted to know where she was, what she thought. The Stark Industries official line was: We are making our best efforts to ensure the safety of Tony Stark. We can confirm that Margaret Stark is safe. As if they knew where she was.
Other than the explosion of shock around the world, Maggie couldn't find out much about the kidnapping itself. The Department of Defense and the military had swarmed on the Kunar province, but hacking into their communications showed that they didn't have much in the way of intel. Whoever had taken Tony had struck violently and quickly, gone minutes before US reinforcements arrived. There'd been no contact, either to take credit for the attack or to ask for ransom money. There were half a dozen militias active in the area, and no way to know who was responsible.
When Maggie arrived she disguised herself in a headscarf and drove out to the site of the ambush: a lonely dirt road in a scrub-filled basin, flanked by snow-streaked mountains. The cold wind whistled eerily in the valley, the only sound.
The site had already been cleared up by the Department of Defense, but Maggie found it easily enough. She could still see the scars in the land. Shrapnel fragments peppered the sand and scrub, and scorch marks marred the sparse rocks.
She found the first blast site in the centre of the road, where a few remaining shreds of metal and sticky slicks of engine oil remained: the first Humvee explosion. She paced back down the road until she found a sprinkle of shattered glass, and a few paces away from that: blood. The US forces had taken away the bodies and remnants of both Humvees now, but this must have been where the second vehicle stopped. She circled, finding bullet casings and more dirt stained rust-red. The scrub all around the road was charred.
She lifted her head. "If I were attacking a convoy," she said aloud, turning, "where would I come from?" Her eyes fell on the mountains. They were the only real cover in the area. A horde of attackers would have been spotted approaching along the flat expanse of the valley, so they must have come down from the hills.
Maggie dug her toes into the dirt. "Lay an IED in the road, wait for the trap to be sprung. Then swarm on the survivors."Her brow furrowed as she eyed a crumpled metal panel riddled with bulletholes. For a kidnapping, this was excessively violent. Risky. If she didn't know better, she would say this was an assassination.
She drew in a deep breath. "They didn't find Tony's body here," she told herself. Whatever happened, the attackers took him away.
She wondered how Tony had felt, sitting in the Humvee as explosions and bullets roared around him. She'd only ever seen him in danger once, at the Innovator's Ball. He'd been scared then, round-eyed and panicked. She remembered the way he had gripped her ankle as if to keep her safe.
Her stomach turned. The DoD had analysed the recovered Humvee, and she had read the report. It had been shot up and smashed, but there had been no bloodstains inside the vehicle.
Breathing deeply, Maggie made a few more circles of the site. She knew she wouldn't get much from it, but she'd needed to see it. It had given her some ideas about Tony's kidnappers, after all: they know the land. And they might not have meant for him to live.
As she had that thought she spotted a missile crater a few yards off the road. She winced at the size of it. Whoever they are, they have access to some serious tech.
A glint caught her eye: not shattered glass or metal, but… plastic? She paced over and nudged the shiny black object in the sand, turning it over. Her stomach twisted. A phone.
She recognised the shape of it instantly and snatched it up, wiping off sand. This was Tony's phone: custom made, with a rotating screen attachment. Half the keyboard had been cracked and it was caked with dirt. She hit the power button, holding her breath.
The screen flickered feebly to life. When she saw the command string waiting for her, Maggie's heart sank. This is half of a distress signal. She had the same signal built into her phone, and if it had been sent it would have alerted Stark Industries and the closest US authority of the emergency and the phone's exact location.
The screen flickered once more and died, and Maggie's eyes closed. Tony got out of the Humvee. Tony was able to use his phone.
Her eyes opened. Tony wasn't able to finish sending the distress signal. She looked over her shoulder at the missile crater, her stomach roiling.
A moment later she pocketed the smashed phone and strode back to her car, her chest tight and a hot, strangling feeling in her throat.
Ten Rings Base, Afghanistan
Tony stared around at the crates and crates of Stark Industries weapons in the militia encampment, hidden from above by camouflage netting. His body ached - from the fresh wounds in his chest, and the trauma of having his head shoved underwater over and over. The sun pierced his eyes. The steady, quiet man in the glasses behind him radiated tension.
His kidnapper, a large man with a false smile, spoke in a language Tony didn't understand.
The quiet man translated for him: "He says they have everything you need to build the Jericho missile. He wants you to make a list of materials." His eyes darted toward Tony. "He says for you to start working immediately and when you're done, he will set you free."
After a long moment, Tony took his kidnappers hand and shook it, smiling grimly. "No he won't."
The quiet man matched his smile. "No he won't."
Back in the aching cold of the cave, Tony sat across from his unwitting companion in front of a small fire in a metal stove.
"I'm sure they're looking for you, Stark," the man said in his even, accented voice. Tony thought of Rhodey, of the irritated, fond look in his eyes when Tony had told him Sorry, this is the Fun-vee. Probably for the best; Rhodey would have been one of the first out of that vehicle and in the line of fire when it got attacked. "But they will never find you in these mountains."
Tony stared into the flickering flames.
"Look," the man said softly. "What you just saw, that is your legacy, Stark." Tony recalled Dad's severe face: this is our legacy, son. "Your life's work, in the hands of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out?" The man leaned forward. "Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it?"
"Why should I do anything?" Tony responded softly, his voice hoarse from screaming. He touched the power cables snaking out of his chest. "They're going to kill me, you, either way. And if they don't, I'll probably be dead in a week."
He was reminded suddenly, violently, of standing before a pair of gravestones. First mom and dad's, standing alone. Then two years later: the Jarvises. Tony had stood feeling crushed under the weight of his grief, physically crumbling underneath it. He'd only been twenty three at the time. Then a small, slightly sweaty hand had slid into his. It had startled him, until he looked down to see his little sister. She'd been in a black dress, a newly-made metal leg poking out from the hem, and she'd looked up at him with dry, knowing eyes. Whatever happens, it'll be okay, she'd told him.
He'd laughed at the time. Aren't I meant to be the one comforting you?
Maggie was only twenty two now, a year younger than he had been. He wondered who would stand by her side when she visited his gravestone. Who would tell her it was going to be okay.
He wondered if she'd even be there.
"Well then," came the man's soft voice, intruding into his thoughts. "This is a very important week for you, isn't it?"
Tony's head lifted. Shadowy thoughts of death suddenly scattered, shed by the bright spark of an idea. His kidnappers wanted him to build something.
The man's lips quirked, as if he could read Tony's mind. "Hm?"
Kabul, Afghanistan
Maggie had developed a set of tools and resources as the Wyvern, and she used everything she had in her search for Tony. She reached out to her contacts in the shadow world, trying to hide her desperation as she asked if they knew anything. She rerouted satellites to capture images of the province, flew over the desert at night on metal wings, and scoured through every electronic trail she could find.
She stayed in touch with Rhodey, Pepper, and Obie though, calling at least one of them once a day. They all seemed worried that she might be in danger, and kept telling her to go back to California. Obie's calls got more and more frustrated. Maggie kept her calls short and direct, checking if they had learned anything new and giving little in return.
She did pass on a few leads to Rhodey, however. There were some threads that she, as a single operative, could not follow. She knew Rhodey was confused by how she was getting the information, and growing suspicious, but she kept him at a distance.
It became clear that Tony could not have been taken far from the area. Maggie would have heard something if he had. He must still be in the treacherous mountains somewhere - Maggie heard rumours of expansive cave networks, of mountains haunted by demons disguised as militia. But the mountains stretched for hundreds of miles. Maggie could not search them alone. She knew that Rhodey and the DoD were sending out helicopters and surveillance jets every hour of the day.
A week after Tony's disappearance, one of Maggie's cyber activity nets flagged an anonymous transmission out of the area. It was encrypted so securely that when she tried to capture the data, she only managed to snag a frame of what she suspected was probably a video. She tried to trace the transmission back to its source, but was met with nothing but a void.
Gritting her teeth, Maggie cleaned up the corrupted file she'd managed to retrieve, working her magic until she could finally open it as a JPEG.
Instantly, she jerked back from her computer screen. The frame was pixelated and slightly corrupted, but she could make sense of the general scene: seven men in camouflage with cloth obscuring their faces and guns in their arms stood in a loose line, in front of a red flag with crossed sabres. And at the centre of the frame: Tony.
She wasn't sure how she knew it was him, since she could only realistically see a man with matted dark hair, a bloody face and bandages on his chest, strapped to a chair. But Maggie knew. He was the only one sitting, the white bandages a sharp contrast to his dark clothes - maybe a suit. There was a dark stain on the bandages over his chest. Maggie couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not.
Maggie tore her gaze away from the screen and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, screaming between her teeth. When she looked up, Tony was still there.
Her eyes snagged on the flag in the background. I've seen that before.
She went ripping through her investigation notes like a hyena with a carcass, until she tore free what she'd been looking for: The Ten Rings. One of the rumored militias in the area, shadowy and feared. No known base, not even a country of origin. As Maggie tore down her new path of investigation, she forwarded the JPEG anonymously to Rhodey and the DoD. They'd already worked with the Wyvern in the past.
She didn't sleep again for almost two days, too afraid that she'd see Tony when her eyes closed.
You want to live your life. Well go ahead, Maggie. I won't get in your way.
March 9, 2009
Maggie was so busy searching for Tony that when her computer programs pinged the suspicious assassination of a nuclear scientist fleeing Iran, she completely missed it.
1800 miles away, Natasha Romanoff stitched up her own abdomen while on the phone to her S.H.I.E.L.D. handler, describing her failure.
Ten Rings Base, Afghanistan
"Careful," Tony said, heart in his mouth and car battery in his hand. "Careful, we only get one shot at this."
The translator moved steadily to the worktable, holding a smoking cup of molten metal in a clamp. "Relax. I have steady hands. Why do you think you're still alive, huh?" As he began tipping the metal into the housing ring, Tony let out a breath. "My name is Yinsen."
"Yinsen. Nice to meet you."
Yinsen pulled away the empty cup. "Nice to meet you too."
Late March, 2009
Maggie didn't sleep much these days. Tony had been missing over a month, and there'd been no new information. The Ten Rings were almost as shadowy and vacant as the Winter Soldier - every time she reached out her fingers to grasp at them, they slipped away like mercury.
She tried not to look at herself in the mirror. It was easier to focus on the hunt, scouring every inch of sandy earth for her brother, than think about Tony himself. She couldn't bring herself to imagine what he must be feeling, if he was still alive. What he must think of her: the sister who'd abandoned him long before he ever went missing. When she looked in the mirror she saw gaunt, guilty eyes.
What did it say about her that she could track down assassins and mercenaries and ghosts, but not her own brother?
Then one morning, she woke up from fitful sleep to a message from Obie:
CALL ME. NOW.
Panicked, she called him straight away. He picked up on the first ring.
"What's wrong?" She demanded. "Did… has anything happened?"
"No," came Obie's voice, tired. "Maggie, don't hang up on me."
Her lips pressed together.
"Come home," he said shortly.
"Obie, I-"
"No. No more talking. Maggie, let me make this very clear to you - if you don't come home now, then you will be responsible for leaving Tony's legacy in pieces. Every day that goes by when you aren't here, is another day that people tear us to shreds. I don't know where you are, but you can help here. We need you. Come back."
Maggie opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to say, but then Obie hung up on her.
She gaped in the silence, staring at the ceiling of her Kabul safehouse. She sat up and looked around at her tiny room, at her computer hub scanning fruitlessly for electronic transmissions, at the piles of notes and photographs. She thought: what has my presence here really achieved?
She wondered how she could possibly leave.
You will be responsible for leaving Tony's legacy in pieces.
Los Angeles International Airport, California
Maggie went back.
Pepper, Obie, and Happy were waiting for her at the airport, like those few times she had returned home before. The balmy California air hit her like a slap to the face, and the absence of Tony felt like a bone-deep ache.
Obie, squinting in the sun, made it over to her first and pulled her in for a tight hug. "You're skin and bone, kid. I'm so sorry." He rested a hand over the back of her head, almost fatherly. Maggie pressed her eyes into his shoulder and let the weight of her backpack in her hand steady her. "Let's get you home."
They bustled over to the car, fussing over her backpack. Happy hugged her with one arm before opening the car door for her, and in the backseat Pepper rested her hand in the centre console, her face tight and her eyes knowing. When Happy started the engine, Maggie reached out and took Pepper's hand.
"Where are we going?" Maggie managed to whisper.
Obie turned around in his seat to eye her. "The mansion, first."
"I-" she wanted to say I don't want to go there. She didn't deserve it, not after how she'd left things with Tony. But another part of her kept her silent. She wanted to feel some connection to Tony - to the house he'd built, his workshop, J.A.R.V.I.S. and Dum-E and U. But she wondered if it would just hurt more. Her eyes itched from the time difference and the long flight.
"Then," Obie said, appearing not to have heard her brief protest, "Stark Industries. You need to give a statement."
Her stomach churned. "I don't-"
"We've already written one, don't worry. And I'll take any questions," he said with a reassuring smile. Until today, SI hadn't put out any information about her other than that she was safe and hoping for Tony's safe return.
Maggie sat in silence all the way back to the mansion. Obie and Pepper both checked their BlackBerries, though Pepper worked one handed, her other hand still gripping Maggie's. Happy drove in silence, occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror at her. Maggie watched the city slide past.
After they parked in the mansion driveway, Happy walked her to the door as Pepper and Obie followed behind, discussing press conference arrangements.
Happy looked sideways at her, and for a moment Maggie was sure he was going to say Where have you been? But he just let out a breath, then said: "You're going to be okay, Maggie." She almost laughed at the lie. Happy reached out to rest a heavy hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad you're back."
She looked up, eyes stinging, but before she could think of anything to say he squeezed her shoulder and said "I'm going to go check the perimeter."
That left Maggie to walk through the front door on her own, Pepper and Obie hanging back - though Obie did call softly to her: we need to leave again in fifteen minutes.
The glass door slid open at her touch.
"Welcome home, Ms Stark," J.A.R.V.I.S. said when she'd paced into the foyer, his voice somber.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.," Maggie replied, her eyes prickling. She hadn't been in this house for seven months. "Have you… do you have any leads?"
"Some, Ms Stark, but none with much substance. I am sorry."
She pushed back tears. "So am I."
The mansion was sleek and clean and bristling with pain. Maggie's eyes alighted on the long, low couch before the wide windows, and she pictured pizza boxes and teasing. Then the balcony on the other side of the sliding door, which looked out over the painfully blue ocean. She remembered the night she had drunk Tony's whiskey and yelled at him. She remembered going through college prospectuses. Coffee in the kitchen.
Tony was everywhere, as if each item and room in this house held a phantom of him, grinning and sharp-eyed. Her heart panged as she stood in the living area, turning slowly.
I didn't want this. She didn't want to be here, missing him. She wanted to be out there looking for him.
You will be responsible for leaving Tony's legacy in pieces.
Maggie realized that Tony had only been twenty one when their parents died and he'd had to take up the mantle of Stark Industries. And here she stood, alone in their house, twenty two years old.
The thought made her want to crumple, but it also gave her the strength she needed to go to her childhood bedroom and find some work-appropriate clothes. She hid her wings and backpack in a secret compartment under her bed, and changed out of her faded travel clothes and into a suit.
If he could do it then, I can do it now. Her skin itched.
She walked back up to the living area, where Pepper and Obie waited for her.
"I'm ready."
The Stark Industries press room was a round, sunny atrium tastefully appointed with pot plants and modern art. The windows looked out over the green lawns of the complex, and a distant park. But Maggie felt none of that manufactured calm as she stood at the lectern on the podium, her suit stiff and pinching and her eyes hurting from the flashing lights of the crowd of journalists in front of her. There were about forty of them, all staring at her and fidgeting as they waited for her to speak. Obie stood a few feet to her right, his arms crossed, and Pepper stood at the back of the room, her familiar face comforting.
Maggie cleared her throat, thinking of the script she'd memorised on the drive here. It lay in front of her on the lectern just in case.
She leaned in to the twin microphones on the lectern. Cleared her throat. "I'm here today to speak on behalf of Stark Industries, and the Stark family," she began, and a few journalists up the back leaned forward. "I've been working hard behind the scenes to find Tony" - Obie had written that as a cover for her extended absence, not knowing how true it was - "but I'm standing here today to make a public plea."
She swallowed and fixed her gaze out at the crowd, not focusing on any face in particular. "My brother is still missing. And if anyone has any answers, any information, please come forward." Her voice shook for a moment before she steadied it. She glanced down at the paper before her, then added in a plea of her own: "And if you have Tony," she said in a lower tone, "We can talk about this. We can come to an agreement, as long as you send proof of life. You know where to reach me." She sensed Obie shift, uncomfortable that she'd gone off script. A few journalists in the crowd exchanged glances.
Maggie returned to her script. "In the meantime" - she took a breath - "I can assure you that Stark Industries remains strong. I will be taking on the role of interim CEO" - at that, everyone in her crowd began talking, asking questions, snapping their camera shutters, starting to drown her out. She forged on - "to ensure Stark Industries' continued success, in my brother's stead." She swallowed again. "So he can pick right up again when he gets back."
Three minutes later, after she'd taken some questions, she walked off the podium, shaking slightly. Pepper was there, taking her by the arm and guiding her out, just as Obie took over to answer some more questions. Already, as Pepper led her through the lobby, Maggie spotted her own face on a TV on the wall. She looked brittle.
"If someone wanted a ransom for Tony, they would have contacted SI weeks ago," Maggie said dully. She and Pepper strode up a set of sleek metal stairs.
"They still might," Pepper said in a false-hopeful voice.
Maggie allowed herself to be led into Tony's office - her office. It was huge, with a set of leather couches to one side, a meeting table on the other, and directly ahead a glass desk with a single chair, silhouetted by the wall-to-wall window looking out over the SI complex. Pepper shut the door behind them, and Maggie looked at that desk. Her heart pounded.
"I keep waiting to find out that he's dead."
Ten Rings Base, Afghanistan
"Good roll!"
The cave wasn't so cold these days, now that the bitter grip of winter had faded. Tony sat on an upturned bucket at a low table across from Yinsen, the miniaturised arc reactor that they had made glowing in his chest. A backgammon board sat on the table between them, with wooden dice and nuts and bolts for pieces.
Tony reached for their tea kettle. "You still haven't told me where you're from."
Yinsen took the dice, that not-quite smile on his face. They shared secrets and plans all day long, but Tony had realized that he didn't know much about his fellow prisoner.
"I'm from a small town called Gulmira," Yinsen said as he rolled. "It's actually a nice place."
Tony moved a bolt across the board. "Got a family?"
"Yes. And I will see them when I leave here." He and Yinsen had developed this way of talking to each other without looking at each other, their hands usually too busy with machine parts. But Yinsen looked up into Tony's face as he asked: "And you, Stark?"
Tony met Yinsen's gaze; it was open and honest, not expecting or demanding. He thought of lonely nights with strangers in his bed, building robots to make the house feel lived in, hissed shouts and pushing his sister away with his words. His eyes slid back down to the arc reactor. "You know I do," he murmured. "I might have driven them away though."
Yinsen's gaze did not break. "Oh," he murmured. The corner of his mouth ticked up in sympathy. "So you're a man who has everything. And nothing."
Tony, not sure how to respond to that, let a half-smile flicker on his mouth and his eyes darted away.
Los Angeles, California
Maggie moved back into her old apartment in the city, because it turned out that living in the mansion was too painful. She visited a few times a week though, to speak to J.A.R.V.I.S. about his leads (she had given her electronic searching over to him, since he was smarter than her algorithms). She didn't let him in on her shadow world, but he did everything else for her. She also made sure to visit Dum-E and U, who lived in the workshop surrounded by half-baked projects. One of the hotrods had its engine disassembled around it on the floor, tools and rags splayed around the place as if Tony had only just stepped away from it. Maggie didn't go near it.
She worked at Stark Industries 7 days a week. There had been a lot that went undone without a CEO at the helm, and a lot of PR and sales to manage what with Tony being gone. Stocks had plummeted, but had seen a steady increase since her press conference. She did interviews for magazines who celebrated her as the youngest female CEO in the country, a breath of life for Stark Industries.
The old engineers she used to work with now nodded respectfully when they passed her in the corridors. The pity in their eyes reminded her of how people used to look at her in hospital when she was a girl. She strode through the company - her company - in power suits instead of her old comfortable workshop clothes, sitting in on meetings and signing forms. She called politicians and contractors.
She couldn't have done it without Pepper, who actually knew how everything was supposed to be run. Maggie had been gone some time. But Maggie could see Pepper's grief, too - she was quieter, less quick to smile, often distracted. Pepper avoided the mansion as well.
Maggie's wings collected dust under her bed.
Every morning when Happy drove her to work, Maggie had to convince herself not to hyperventilate when the Stark Industries complex came into view. Every day she signed off on designing, making, and selling weapons of war. All her old problems with the company resurfaced, but this time she was responsible. And she didn't want to change anything, because that would be a betrayal to Tony.
It felt like sitting in the driver's seat of a car headed straight to plow down a crowd of people, her hands glued to the wheel and her foot pressing down on the gas.
April, 2009
Obie walked into the CEO's office one evening to see Maggie sitting at the desk in near-darkness, working her way through a stack of distribution forms. Her jacket was slung over the back of her chair and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Pepper was off in a conference room somewhere on a call to Japan.
Maggie sensed Obie's presence and looked up for a moment as she signed the forms. She saw the appraising light in his eyes. It reminded her of what a few people had told her since she'd taken the job:
You work harder than he used to.
Every time, it made her want to peel off her own skin. Or theirs.
Because she might be putting in more hours in the office, might be signing more forms, but she knew that she could not run this company like Tony had. He'd been a true leader, both as an engineer and CEO. Despite her ethical issues with the company, Maggie knew that she couldn't do the job like Tony had. She only spent so long in the office because she was drowning.
Maggie thought Obie was going to stop on the other side of the desk but he walked around it, silent, until he was standing over her, his brow wrinkled and his grey eyes assessing. Maggie looked up at him with watery, tired eyes.
"I can see this is taking a toll on you," he finally said in a low voice. His eyes pinched with compassion. He had indeed been watching her closely these past weeks, always a few paces behind as if ready to step in. Maggie had hardly had the energy to feel grateful.
Obie sighed. "You never wanted this, did you?" he gestured around at the grand office.
Maggie fought back tears and her pen clattered to the glass desk. For a moment she wanted to lie, like she had ever since she'd gotten back: It's a privilege to look after the company in Tony's stead. I want to make sure the family business succeeds. This is what dad would want.
But instead, she started crying. Tears slipped over her cheeks and she shuddered as she gripped the edge of the desk for support. Obie looked at her.
"It's not me," Maggie whispered. She shook her head frantically. "It's not me. It's not."
Obbie nodded, and before she knew it he'd tugged her up out of her chair with surprising strength and gripped her in a tight hug. "I know, kid." She shook in his arms. "I've known for a while. I promise you, you're not trapped in this. I've got your best interests at heart, trust me."
Maggie nodded into his shoulder, and let him hold her. Shame washed over her. Tony is stronger than I am, he always has been. He took this up at a younger age, with so much more grief sitting on his shoulders. I can't even last a month.
Obie gently pulled back and squeezed her shoulders, eyeing her haggard face. "Let Happy take you home, Maggie. I'll finish these."
"But I need to sign-"
"I can sign them," he murmured as he steered her toward the door. "Go on. Rest."
Maggie went home, her forehead pressed against the car window as the lights of the city slid by.
Back in her lonely apartment, she didn't sleep. She worked until dawn, hunting through leads and possibilities and contacts, searching for everything she could find out about the Ten Rings. They had been trading in weapon parts recently, but she couldn't find any origins or destinations for them. She'd also identified a few men suspected of involvement with the Ten Rings, but nothing more than that. She funnelled everything she had to Rhodey anonymously.
Before she knew it, there was a knock at the door.
"It's me," said Happy, like he did every morning to pick her up.
She sighed and rubbed her red eyes. "One minute."
She hurried into her bathroom to wash her face and change clothes. She may as well convince people that she'd slept.
April 30, 2009
Ten Rings Base, Afghanistan
Tony's heart pounded in his chest as the bald, sharp-eyed Ten Rings leader held a red hot coal in a clamp before Yinsen's face. Everyone in the room had frozen, looking between the man with the coal and Tony, who had just stepped forward. Guns bristled and the room held its breath.
The man's dark eyes seemed to peer deep, deep into Tony's mind, as if he could see all the secrets there.
Tony fixed his eyes on the panting Yinsen. "I need him." The coal smoked and glowed. Yinsen swallowed. Tony tipped his head to the side. "Good assistant."
After a long, burning moment, the sharp-eyed man dropped the coal onto the metal beside Yinsen's head. His eyes fixed on Tony. "You have until tomorrow," he said in a deceptively soft voice, "to assemble my missile."
He walked out and the others followed, fingers tight on their guns. Yinsen let out a breath and lifted his head from the metal plate.
Tony watched them leave. You'll get a missile, alright.
May 1, 2009
Los Angeles, California
The next morning, Maggie awoke to several notifications from J.A.R.V.I.S. about activity in the Kunar province. A strange energy surge, then… something also had the DoD in a tizzy.
Maggie flicked through the information as Happy drove her to work, digging into it. The DoD data was useless, as they hadn't logged anything on the system yet. They'd mobilized some forces, that was all she could tell. This is why I wish I was there, said the part of her that wasn't exhausted, so I could tap into their live communications. Maybe fly over the area myself. She checked the satellite readings, and spotted what looked like an explosion in the steppes of a mountain range.
As they arrived at Stark Industries and she walked up to her office, she read through the data from the energy surge, frowning. Whatever it was, this is something enormous.
She nodded hello to Pepper as she passed her desk, then pushed open the wooden doors to her office and strode inside. She already knew she was going to skip whatever CEO work she had this morning to look into this activity further.
But then her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and the caller ID read: Rhodey.
Maggie went cold. She sat down numbly in her desk chair and accepted the call. Pressed the phone to her ear.
Rhodey sounded breathless, staticky. "Maggie, we found him."
Her heart stilled in her chest. She couldn't read his voice. "Is… is he…"
"He's alive, Maggie. We got him back."
Maggie hunched over in her chair until her forehead hit the cool glass of the desk and she pressed her hand over her eyes, shaking.
Rhodey kept talking: "We picked him up wandering the desert by himself, he's pretty banged up but he's okay. I wanted to call you first thing. We'll be on the first flight back to the States."
Maggie fought for control over herself as Rhodey spoke. She sat up, trying to breathe.
The office door creaked open to admit Pepper, carrying two cups of steaming coffee. When saw Maggie's face her own face went bone white and she dropped the cups, sending coffee dark and steaming over the carpet.
"Can I talk to him?" Maggie asked Rhodey breathlessly, and Pepper's hands flew to her mouth and her eyes gleamed with tears.
"He's in with the doctors now, but we should be back in LA tomorrow morning."
Maggie swallowed, then said hoarsely: "Thank you, Rhodey. Tell him… tell him…" her mouth opened and closed.
"I know, Maggie," Rhodey said in a softer voice. "I've gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow."
He hung up before she could reply.
Maggie's fingers were rigid on her phone. She concentrated on relaxing her white-knuckled grip, and the phone tumbled to the carpet. She looked up.
Pepper stood frozen by the door, staring at her. "He's…?"
"Yeah," Maggie breathed, her eyes wide. She looked around, as if searching for something to do. She saw the smashed mugs on the floor and the spreading dark stain. "We should clean that up. This isn't my office anymore."
Pepper laughed. The sound was high and a bit hysterical, but it hit Maggie like a splash of cold water and it had her rising to her feet. Pepper hopped over the dark stain on the carpet and darted across the room until she'd thrown her arms around Maggie, squeezing tight and laughing. Maggie allowed herself to be held, and gripped Pepper back, and squeezed her eyes shut.
And for a moment, nothing else mattered.
Alive.
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Reviews
DBZFAN45: We'll have to see if Maggie and Tony make up! Glad you're still enjoying and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
MyCelestialFury: I'm glad you like vigilante Maggie haha, there'll be more of her in coming chapters ;) And kudos to you for noticing Zoya! I wondered if anyone would. Yes, since she didn't get killed by the Wyvern as a girl she's gone on to graduate the Red Room… and ultimately get arrested by the Wyvern ;) Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
The1975Love: Magnifying glass! I'm going to steal that. Tony is indeed having a bad time of it so far ;) We'll see if he and Maggie make up next chapter!
Guest: All the pairings! I'm so glad you're excited haha :) I'm excited to show you what I've got planned!