You have used up all of your call and text data for this month -
Ned made a face and tossed his phone onto his bed. It bounced once, twice, and promptly dove off the edge of the mattress to hit the floor. Before he could stop himself, he automatically muttered, "Same."
The phone did not respond. Honestly, he didn't expect it to, but who was he kidding.
Someone changed channels in the living room. Ned cast a baleful look at the closed door, through which he could hear panicked news anchors on CNN screeching about the Dusting, and slumped back onto the bed. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Hoping he could block it all out.
"In all of this chaos, what's left of the world is left reeling - and the biggest question that comes to mind, echoed by millions on social media…"
Ned mouthed the words along with the news anchor.
" Where are the Avengers? "
It was the middle of the night, and the cable news still couldn't give it a rest. They'd been singing that tune for the past four hours, and it was getting old by now. Ned was… God, he was so tired of all the speculation, all the panic. There were news reports of something big going down in Wakanda. Cellphone footage from Greenwich Village, showing Iron Man facing down two massive aliens in the middle of the street - and the ship taking off not even an hour later -
"We know that Iron Man was spotted following the spaceship as it took off-"
Ned rolled his eyes.
"And enhanced - look at this - enhanced images show someone clinging to the side of the ship. Right there -"
"Good God," his father said loudly. "That's Spiderman! "
"What?" Ned screeched. Cold seized his entire chest. What the hell was Peter thinking! He nearly broke the door of his room down trying to get to the living room. His parents were on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. Ned ran right into the back of the couch and stared.
"What the hell," he breathed. Sure enough, someone had managed to get a shot of the spaceship - and there, hanging onto the sides, was a tiny scrap of red and blue.
Peter.
"As far as we can tell," the news anchor was saying, " that's Queens' favorite neighborhood Spiderman, stuck on the side of that ship." Each word was slow and ponderous, in that self-important news-anchor tone that made everything they said sound important. It made Ned want to tear his hair out. Fuck's sake, that was his friend on that ship, and - and yup. It was in outer space. Fucking outer space.
He'd used up all his calls and texts for the month trying to get a hold of Peter. As a last resort, he even called May Parker to see if she knew where Peter had run off to. Nothing.
"Ned?"
His mother had turned around, one arm flung over the back of the sofa. "Are you doing alright?" she said softly.
Ned opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a while. "Yeah," he said faintly. "I - I guess. I'll be fine."
His father, eyes still glued to the TV, nodded mutely. "It's hard for all of us, son," he said. "You should take a break while you can. Isn't school canceled for the rest of the year?"
Ned grimaced. "Yeah." They'd canceled school for the entire state, after reports of the Dusting came in. Not enough teachers, or not enough students. Or both.
"Have you heard from Peter?"
The images on the TV flickered. Now they were talking about the Rogue Avengers being sighted in Wakanda, and General Ross's hissy fit on national television. Ned shook his head, feeling like he was about to throw up. "No. I'm going to my room."
His parents let him, without a word. Ned slunk back to his room and gently closed the door. His phone still lay on the ground; he kicked it sourly, and it slid under his desk.
Have you heard from Peter?
"Have I heard from Peter?" he said in a mocking voice, sitting heavily on his bed. "No, haven't heard from Peter, not since he jumped out of the goddamn bus to go fight aliens, of course I haven't heard from him -" Ned ran a hand over his face, something stinging in his chest.
He'd helped Peter escape the bus. He'd let him go.
And now he might never see his friend again.
Ned reached down and grabbed his phone, willing himself to not cry. He was sick of this - sick of not having answers, sick of hearing cable news blathering on about "celebrities lost today" and "United Nations having an emergency meeting" and - this was the worst - "number of missing and/or dead continues to climb." They couldn't even decide on a fucking adjective for everyone who'd been Dusted.
For Peter's sake, Ned sincerely hoped they wouldn't decide on "dead." If Tony Stark was… was okay, then he'd probably punch the lights out of anyone who said Peter was dead. That guy had stuck to Peter like glue the past two years - he was practically Peter's dad by now.
Ned thought of Iron Man rocketing after Peter into the stars. If he was with peter, then Peter was probably fine.
He hoped.
At this point, though, hoping wasn't nearly enough. Ned needed answers. Mr. Stark was, obviously, off the planet, so he was out, but there had to be information on the inside.
Something like a smile crossed Ned's face; he moved over to his desk and powered up his computer. He hacked Peter's suit that one time. He could fucking hack Stark Industries if he wanted to. As the monitors blinked to life, Ned cracked his fingers and set to work.
Five minutes later, as he was practically elbow-deep in Stark Industries' firewalls, a massive window filled one of his screens. Text scrolled across it. Put on your headset.
His blood froze. "Ohhhhh, shit," he breathed.
The words disappeared, replaced with I'm not Skynet, I'm not going to kill you. Just put your headset on.
Ned could barely bring himself to move. Please? the text said. Okay, fine, he could deal with that. Skynet had manners. Very helpful. His hands shaking slightly, Ned slid his headset on.
A woman's voice filled his ears. " Hello, Ned Leeds ," she said, in a rolling Irish accent. " My name is FRIDAY. You were trying to hack me, weren't you."
"Sorry," Ned squeaked.
" Oh, don't worry about it, you didn't do any harm, " FRIDAY said cheerfully. "Stay put for me, would you?"
"Uh -"
Another window opened in the other screen. Ned sat up straight, his stomach twisting. "Oh, hi," he said.
Virginia Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and the scariest woman Ned had ever seen in his life, smiled faintly at him from his screen. Her hands were laced together on the desk in front of her. She looked crisp, polished, and absolutely terrifying. "Hello, Mr. Leeds," she said. "What can I do for you?"
Words failed him. Fully aware that his mouth was wide open, and that he was probably blushing an embarrassingly deep red, he stammered, "Uh - um. Hi."
"Hi."
"I'm, uh… sorry to bother you, but I was -" Ned coughed awkwardly and adjusted his headset. "I saw Mr. Stark and Peter on the news," he said nervously.
The warm understanding in Ms. Potts' eyes deepened. Ned suddenly noticed how tired she looked. Not in a rude way - she just looked like she'd been working in front of a screen for hours, fueled by nothing more than panic, Red Bull, and spite. He knew the feeling. "I know," she said. "I don't know what's going on with them; I'm completely in the dark. All I know is that Tony didn't come home, and Peter was with him."
Her hands gripped each other even tighter, so tight that her knuckles bled white. She said softly, "I don't even know if -"
Ms. Potts broke off. Ned swallowed and finished her sentence. "You don't know if they're even alive."
She gave him a jerky nod; her hands unlaced to rub at her temples. "Ned," she said, "I know you're worried about Peter. I am too. I don't know what he was thinking -" The I don't know what Tony was thinking, either went unsaid, but was loud and clear. "- but - I don't know. I'll give you updates when I can. As soon as I know anything about Peter, I'll tell you."
Ned slumped in his seat, stunned. "Thank you," he finally managed to choke out. "I - that means a lot, thank you so much -"
"It's nothing," Ms. Potts said wearily, giving him a faint smile. "You don't have to hack Stark Industries every time you need to get a hold of me. FRIDAY, can you send him my number?"
" Of course," the AI said. His phone buzzed on his desk, with an official email from Stark Industries. Ned stared at it, flabbergasted.
"Thank you," he said again. His face flamed up. God, he sounded like a broken record.
"No problem." Ms. Potts straightened in her chair, one hand reaching for a stack of papers. Ned immediately felt guilty that he'd drawn her away from her work. "I have to straighten a few more things out, but rest assured, if I hear anything from Tony or Peter, I'll let you know straight away."
With another tired smile, she ended the video call. The windows on the other screen, where he'd been running the hack, closed out on their own - but Ned's head was spinning too much for him to notice. Answers. Finally, he'd getanswers.
In the other room, the TV switched off. Silence rang throughout the house.
The moment Ned's face vanished from her screen, Pepper let out a heavy sigh that seemed to drag every bit of air from her lungs. Flames flickered on the walls. "FRIDAY, set windows to opaque, please," she muttered. There was a soft hum as the windowpanes darkened, and the echoes of the burning buildings behind her faded from the walls. Now it felt like midnight in here.
It felt almost like the aftermath of the Chitauri attack. Buildings ablaze, abandoned cars in the streets, a haze of smoke and fear in the air. A morbid corner of Pepper's mind pointed out that the haze probably wasn't just smoke. "Jesus," she breathed, her head sinking into her hands.
"Are you alright, Ms. Potts?" FRIDAY said softly.
"Yeah," she said. She leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. "I'm just… worried about Tony."
"I know the feeling. I'm sure he's alright."
"I hope so."
God, she hoped so. Pepper had seen the news reports on the Dusting, as they were calling it, and the shaky camera footage of Tony's showdown with the Children of Thanos. Only Tony would call a dangerous telekinetic alien Squidward...
But according to FRIDAY - and cable news - Tony wasn't even on the planetanymore. She was so damned worried about him - nothing mattered more to her in that moment than knowing if Tony was alive. It never got easier - but now, it was a fifty-fifty chance that he was dead or alive.
Those were terrible odds. Random fucking chance. Somehow that made it worse, knowing that there was no room for injured and alive, or lost, or grabbing some takeout before he came home because dammit he'd had a long day kicking ass, but he'll get her favorite if she wants it because he knows how stressful it is for her.
Alive or dead. Schrodinger's Tony. A strangled laugh escaped Pepper's throat. She laced her hands together to stop them from shaking, glancing at her phone. Notifications popped up at a mile a minute: emails from department heads, from reporters, diplomats, the fucking Department of Justice ? Her lip curling, Pepper flipper her phone face down and took a deep breath. "FRIDAY, who do we have left?" she said, perhaps a bit too sharply.
"Casualties have not been confirmed," FRIDAY said apologetically, "but I can give you a rough estimate."
"Fire away."
There was a brief silence. "A little less than half of employees employed at the Tower have disappeared," FRIDAY said. Her voice was subdued. "I'm sorry."
Pepper squeezed her eyes shut, opened them. The light from her computer monitor seared her vision. "So am I," she whispered. Jesus. Her chest constricted, just thinking about the ashes beneath her feet. "What about our other allies - what's left of SHIELD?"
"No idea," FRIDAY admitted. "Though I do have camera footage of Colonel Fury and Agent Hill turning to ash."
"Damn."
"And I have some data from Wakanda, if you want to hear it -"
"Please," Pepper said quickly. Any data was good data, in a time like this. "Abridged version, if you can."
"Alright - I'll send you the full surveillance file from the Hulkbuster I was able to salvage." Another pause - FRIDAY's equivalent of clearing her throat. "Well… it's not pretty. Wakanda was attacked by an alien army; then a giant purple alien showed up, tore the yellow gem from Vision's head, and put it in a gauntlet he was wearing with the rest."
"And then -"
"And then he snapped his fingers. And - well."
"Yeah. Who..."
"Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, King T'Challa, James Barnes." FRIDAY fell silent. "Vision," she said softly.
Pepper exhaled. "I'm sorry," she said. The wolds rang hollow in the empty office. FRIDAY didn't seem to notice.
"I do, however, know who survived on Earth," FRIDAY added.
"Do tell."
"Rhodey, Romanoff, and Rogers are still alive - and Bruce and Thor came back, imagine that - oh, Clint's also alive. He's en route to Wakanda as we speak, maybe a little more than an hour away from landing."
Pepper nodded slowly. She sat up in her chair and stared at her desk, tapping her fingers on the glass, watching the light of the computer monitor gleaming on her engagement ring. She was alone in this. All the major players that could help her were in Wakanda, too busy for her to talk to. Not that she wanted to admit that she needed help; she was CEO of the most powerful company in the world, after all. But it would be nice to not be so… solitary. Even in past disasters, Tony had been by her side to help. They hadn't been torn apart like this since the Mandarin.
She just wishes that she could do something.
In the past, Pepper had never found it necessary to step up. Tony would take care of the exploding things and stuff on fire - and Pepper would put out the metaphorical fires and scare some decency into the angry bureaucrats. Tony would always take care of the danger - no matter what it did to him. She was fine with being CEO. She was.
But he'd sworn that he wouldn't do this again. God, she was still so mad at him, when he promised he'd stay…
Pepper took a deep breath.
My suits. They're a part of me.
"Guess you just can't get it out of your blood, huh," Pepper said, to the empty room. "Some things, time cannot mend… some hurts go too deep…"
FRIDAY interjected, "Ma'am, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, FRIDAY," Pepper said softly. "It's just… It's Tony. I'd always tried to get him to slow down, or to stop this."
"As long as the world needed him, he never would," FRIDAY pointed out.
Pepper made a face, but she didn't reply. As long as Tony believed the world needed him - as long as he believed that it was in his power to fix it… He would never stop. Every time Pepper saw him in that suit, she was so afraid for him, and his life - especially when he came back a bloody mess after Siberia.
The speakers hummed faintly, the way they did when FRIDAY was preparing to speak but wasn't sure if her words would be listened to. "I think Tony was doing all this for you," she said softly.
Threat is - imminent. And I, uh… I have to protect the one thing I can't live without. That's you.
"He already thought he lost you once, and he doesn't want to lose you again. You're the best thing he has in his life, and he knows it - and he just wants to make sure you're okay."
Pepper pressed her lips together. "I'd be okay if he stopped putting himself in danger like this," she muttered.
"Well - you know what they say," FRIDAY said. "If you can't beat 'em…"
She trailed off and fell silent. Pepper raised an eyebrow and fixed the surveillance camera with a skeptical look. "You join 'em?" she finished. "FRIDAY, you're… I'd never want to do that. I'd take a pantsuit over an Iron Man suit any day."
Silence fell in the room, and FRIDAY did not respond. Not even the speakers hummed. In the silence, Pepper swallowed and looked down at her hands. Slender, soft; manicured nails and perfect cuticles. She twisted her right wrist, curling the fingers and imagining the cold embrace of a metal suit. It terrified her to think of it.
And yet.
She remembered how it felt, that time in Malibu when she'd worn the suit to protect Tony. Claustrophobic, sure, and recklessly violent, but…
Pepper opened her hand, palm towards the screen. Her hand was silhouetted against its glow.
It felt powerful.
The speakers hissed, but FRIDAY didn't speak. "You alright, FRI?" Pepper said softly.
"I'm quite well, thanks," FRIDAY said. Pepper thought the AI spoke a little hastily, but she wasn't sure. "I'll leave you to your work."
And just like that, the AI was gone. Pepper pressed her lips together and put her hands down, slightly uneasy. It was odd, even for FRIDAY, to leave the conversation so abruptly - but the AI was right. If the notifications on her phone were any indication, she had a lot of work to do.
Pepper picked up her phone. She'd answer her most important calls first - like the ones from her mother. She would ignore Twitter; she would ignore Facebook; she would ignore everything, just what she could solve on her own.
That's what she did best, after all.
While Pepper Potts was busy calling people back, a notification popped up on - and was automatically dismissed from - her computer desktop.
"PROJECT DERNHELM: MK 17 SCHEMATICS."
Pepper switched to email correspondence with the DOJ. Another notification blinked and disappeared, too fast for her to see it.
"PROJECT DERNHELM: TRAINING PROGRAM."
With the precision and vindictive streak of a trained assassin, Pepper hunted down every single email from General Thaddeus Ross that she could find and deleted them. She would ask FRIDAY to do it, but this way was more satisfying. The pompous windbag could go suck an egg. They had bigger problems than the Accords.
As she left the window to kindly tell Ross, through a 3AM voicemail, to fuck off, an email slipped into her inbox.
"PROJECT DERNHELM: SUGGESTED DIET REGIMEN."
The morning sun crested over New York City, lingering on the edges of smoke clouds. FRIDAY pointedly made the windows transparent again, and the orange light of dawn shone into Pepper's office. With a weary sigh bordering on a groan, Pepper shut off her phone and forced herself out of her desk chair.
Unbeknownst to her, a window opened on her computer. Text scrolled across it.
"PROJECT DERNHELM: AUGMENTED SUIT-SPECIFIC AI."
"NAME: ANTHONY."
"AWAITING ACTIVATION CONFIRMATION."
