While the broken bones hurt, Ian was far more distressed by the sight that greeted him in the living room. Sam was sprawled out on the couch wearing sweatpants and a Spider-Man t-shirt. The shirt was a gift from MJ, one of many friends he'd been forced to leave behind in New York. It was one of his most prized possessions. As far as MJ knew, Peter Parker had gone out for a walk and never made it home. He reminded himself daily that it was all for the best. His friend's chances of survival were much higher without fighting villains alongside Spider-Man.
"We're headed to Thor's Hammer to pick up parts for the generator." Hannah said to Sam. "You can stay here or come with us."
"I'll come with," Sam said as scratched his back. "I'm going a little stir crazy in here." Without even bothering to ask, Sam put on Ian's favorite pair of shoes. May Parker, Ian's aunt who had fallen victim to the snap, had painted the New York City skyline on the white Vans. Ian only wore them on special occasions and was careful to avoid dirt and rain. He feared Sam's clown like feet would stretch them out.
"You may want to change before we leave," Ian said, trying to hide his growing anger.
"You've spent the last two years sleeping with my wife," Sam snapped. "You'll just have to deal with me borrowing a change of clothes!"
Hannah, who had been watching the exchange from the kitchen, came to Ian's defense.
"Ian's right, wearing a shirt like that isn't safe."
"Seriously?" Sam asked. "It's just a shirt. What do people have against a guy who runs around New York in tights?"
Ian withheld an angry comment. Spider-man wore a high tech suit, not tights.
"People don't take kindly to Avengers sympathizers." Hannah said. "A kid was shot last year for wearing an Iron Man coat."
Ian shuddered at the memory of that horrible day. 12 year old Henry, one of many orphaned street kids, was trying to keep warm during the harsh Chicago winter. The discovery of an abandoned parka seemed like the answer to his prayers. He didn't notice the Iron Man pattern when he fished it out of the dumpster. Less than an hour later he was found dead from a gunshot to the head.
While Henry's killer was never found, his death wasn't without meaning. Donations poured in to create Henry House, a shelter for the city's at risk youths. Hundreds of children received an education and a safe place to sleep. Even Thor's Hammer, a company known for its stinginess, paid for a state of the art security system. Chicago may have been the murder capital of the north America, but Henry House proved that the city wasn't without heart.
With no time to waste, Ian and Sam quickly changed while Hannah packed sandwiches for lunch. Fifteen minutes later they climbed into Ian's jeep for what was sure to be an interesting ride.
"Better buckle up," Hannah teased as she climbed into the back seat next to Sam. "Ian's driving."
"It's only a 10 mile drive."Sam buckled his seat belt. "I'm sure we'll be fine. Any fifteen year old in drivers ed could do it."
What Sam didn't know was that Ian had never taken drivers ed. There was no time to learn how to parallel park when the city was in danger. Teenage Ian didn't mind. Who needed a car when you could swing from building to building without a care in the world? That mindset would later come back to haunt him. Learning how to drive in Chicago had been a nightmarish experience. Nevertheless, Ian mastered the basics and came out mostly unscathed.
"Stop!" Sam yelled as they raced passed a stop sign. "The red sign means stop, not go faster!"
Ian smirked."Sorry, must have missed it."
A rusted stop sign had no more power over him than a square of notebook paper. No one else obeyed them, so why should he?
Sam saw the speedometer and cursed. Ian was doing nearly double the speed limit.
"Slow down!" he begged as they narrowly avoided colliding with a military Humvee. "I don't want to die a second time!"
Ian couldn't help but laugh. With his lightning fast reflexes a crash was unlikely. No way was he slowing down. Between work and fixing the crumbling apartment building he rarely had the chance to unwind. Driving was one of the few times he felt free.
"Hey Hannah, wanna show Sam the shortcut?" Ian asked with an evil gleam in his eye. "I bet he'd love it."
Hannah glanced over at her husband who was hanging on for dear life.
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."
Sam looked like he was going to either faint or throw up.
"It will get us there 30 minutes faster." Ian said. " I bet Sam would give anything to get out of this car."
Sam nodded.
"Are you sure?" Hannah asked. "It might be a bumpy ride."
Sam nodded a second time. Nothing could be worse than playing chicken with oncoming traffic.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Hannah said with a laugh.
The shortcut Ian was referring to was a winding path through the area surrounding what had once been Wrigley Field, the home of the Chicago Cubs. The stadium was one of many structures burned to the ground during the second Chicago fire. While Ian was sorry that he never got to see the city in its prime, he had become rather fond of off roading. He loved pushing the Jeep to its limit and hearing Hannah laugh as they swerved around piles of rubble.
"What are you doing?" Sam cried as Ian veered off the road."You're going to end up breaking an axle!"
"No I won't," Ian said. "I reinforced the undercarriage and replaced all four tires with a new rubber from Wakanda. We could go to war in this car."
In spite of Ian's speeding and Sam's yelling, they arrived at Thor's Hammer fifteen minutes later no worse for the wear. For Sam's sake, Ian agreed to take the usual route on the way back home.
"Hey, is that my car?" Sam asked as they pulled into the parking lot. "How did it get here?"
"I drove it here." Hannah replied.
"You drove it here?"
Hannah nodded and Sam's jaw dropped. "When did you learn how to drive?"
"Ian taught me three years ago."
Hannah had initially been relying on public transportation with mixed results. The cities busses and trains were not known for safety or punctuality. One day at the bus stop, a man grabbed Hannah by the ponytail and attempted to drag her away. Ian didn't like to think about what would have happened had he not been passing by in his car. That was the day Hannah cut her hair and asked him for driving lessons.
Sam crossed his arms and glared at Ian. "I guess he was a better teacher than me." He bit his lip. "I hope you drive better than he does."
Hannah smiled and shrugged. While she never attempted the shortcut on her own, she did love the feeling of speeding down the highway with her hair blowing in the wind.
Ian parked and Sam scrambled out of the car just in time to throw up. Hannah rubbed his back and Ian offered him a water bottle from the glove compartment. Sam steadied himself against his car. Other than the peeling paint and a few new scratches, the Honda Civic was exactly as he left it.
"Either the battery is dead or there's something wrong with the starter." Ian explained. "I can fix it after I've gotten the parts I need for the generator."
"I know my way around an engine!" Sam exclaimed. "I don't need help from some IT nerd."
"Relax," Hannah placed a hand on his shoulder. "He's only trying to help." She removed her hand and winced.
"It's my car." Sam lowered his voice. "I'll be the one to fix whatever's wrong."
Ian didn't have time for a pointless territory fight with Sam. He couldn't force his to accept help. It would be Sam's own fault if he ended up screwing something up.
"Fine," Ian said as he retrieved the tool box from his trunk. "Have at it. Try not to electrocute yourself."
"I'll be fine." Sam said bitterly and snatched the tool box. "My father was a mechanic." He turned to Hannah. "Besides, Hannah will help me, right?"
"Or you could help me gather up the generator parts." Ian offered as he rubbed his hands on his jeans. The friction of Sam pulling the tool box away had left him with a painful set of blisters on both palms.
Hannah looked back and forth the two men. "I should probably go check my email," Hannah said slowly. "I'm hoping that Newton's foods will be willing to reschedule."
Ian knew she was lying, but didn't call her on it. It hadn't been fair of them to put her on the spot like that. A decision would have to be made, but this wasn't the time or place for that.
With little time to waste, Ian headed to the IT storage room that doubled as his workshop. Few even knew the small basement room existed making the tools, wires, and miscellaneous engine parts his for the taking. All he had to do was sort though 30 years of outdated technology to find what he needed. Three years of sorting hadn't even put a dent in the mess. Ian scanned the endless rows of boxes unsure where to even begin.
It took Ian nearly an hour to unearthed everything he needed. He thanked whoever had run the IT department before him for never throwing anything out. He was about to leave with his treasures when Hannah entered the room.
"So this is where you're always disappearing to," Hannah said as she surveyed the clutter. "You've got quite the set up down here." Her busy workload didn't allow for field trips to the storage room. Ian was surprised she'd managed to find him without getting lost in the maze like basement.
"Yep," Ian said. "This is where the magic happens." Ian had come up with some of his best ideas in that dusty room. Prosthetics, computers, and endless lines of code were created under the bright fluorescent lights.
"Is that what I think it is?" Hannah asked, pointing to a group of plastic bins in the corner. Ian nodded soberly. She'd never come down there before. He'd never felt the need to hide those bins.
"Stay here," Hannah said with an ear to ear grin. "I'm going to get Sam."
It was then that Ian noticed a red welt on Hannah's hand. He didn't say anything as she raced off to find her husband. There had to be a rational explanation. It was probably nothing, just like the blisters on his hands and the buzzing in his skull.