Tony had worked through dawn and had finally, with bad grace, agreed to get a few hours sleep before Shepherd came back. Pepper held his hand till he fell asleep, then she headed downstairs to the communal kitchen. Sometimes she just needed a break, even for ten minutes. It wasn't like she'd had any sleep either.
Truthfully, she wasn't sure what she thought about all this. There was a small, selfish part of her that was delighted at the thought of someone else being Iron Man, the same part that wished someone else had been Iron Man all along. And Shepherd seemed like a decent man. Certainly his military record was impressive, and he'd tolerated Tony's...Tonyness, more than a lot of people did. And Steve hadn't seemed to have any problem with him, though she had no idea what the others thought.
That was all the pluses. And they withered to nothing in the face of how self evidently unhappy this was making Tony. He said it was his idea, but he'd felt trapped into making the decision, and he was already drowning out the anger and misery by working too hard. It was one more thing wearing down on him, and right now Pepper wasn't sure just how much he could take.
Sighing as she walked into the kitchen, she was surprised to see Jane Foster already there, hunting through the cupboards. They'd never actually met, but Thor had shown her photos of his lady-love.
"Hi," she said, with as friendly a smile as she could hope to muster these days.
Jane was standing on tiptoes, reaching into the top cupboard. "Oh!"She leapt backwards, turning round quickly. "I was looking for peanut butter. Sorry."
They stood looking at each other in silence for a long second.
"I'm Pepper Potts," she said, breaking the awkward moment at last. "Thor's told me a lot about you. And I think we have some peanut butter..." She rummaged through the cupboard over the sink. "...here!" Triumphant, she held it out.
"Thank you!" Jane exclaimed, seizing it, and Pepper was amused to see her digging in spoon, like all the answers were to be found on the bottom of the jar. "Oh, God, I shouldn't be doing this in someone else's house, should I?" she asked guiltily after a moment.
"It's fine," Pepper said firmly, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting down heavily at the kitchen table. "How is Thor?"
"Sleeping," Jane said, joining her. "He's much more coherent now, and I can hardly see the bump on his head any more." Her hand tightened around the spoon. "I'm not used to seeing him hurt. I know what he does – I've seen him do it, but somehow, no matter how much I worry, deep down, I never really expected him to get seriously hurt. He always talks like he's invincible."
Just like Tony.
Something must have shown on her face, because Jane's eyes widened. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to - "
" - really, it's fine, Dr Foster," Pepper interrupted, hating the pity. "I know how difficult it is to sit and hope and watch."
"Call me Jane, please," Jane said quietly.
Pepper nodded. "Pepper." She smiled suddenly. "We should form a support group. Superhero Girlfriends Anonymous."
Jane laughed, the slightly hysterical laugh of someone who didn't care that the joke wasn't funny because she had to laugh or else cry. "I wasn't even watching. I didn't know anything about the attack. I was working. Thor had called me a few hours before, he was looking forward to movie night, and then I got caught up in analysing a new retrograde pattern and I never even heard until the phone call." She swallowed hard. "When I saw Agent Hill's number...I thought she was going to tell me Thor was dead."
"But he's going to be okay," Pepper reminded her softly.
"Yes," Jane agreed thankfully, her eyes briefly closed, taking another large spoonful of peanut butter.
Pepper turned her attention to her coffee. She remembered getting that phone call. Remembered Maria's hushed, gentle tone, remembered Happy leading her by the hand, bundling onto the plane, his comforting arm across her shoulder a contrast to the white noise buzzing through her head. If only her story ended in good news.
"Can I ask?" Jane asked awkwardly. "What's going on with this new Iron Man? Thor seemed very worked up about it."
"While Tony's out of action, SHIELD wanted someone else using the Iron Man armour," Pepper said woodenly. "Tony initially refused but agreed last night."
"Thor really seemed to hate the idea," Jane told her with a grimace.
That could only make things worse. She sighed. "It's Tony's decision," she said quietly.
Jane nodded, her eyes full of understanding. "I'll try and talk Thor round a little."
Pepper smiled. "Thank you," she said. "I just want as little stressing him as - " Her phone rang suddenly. She looked down and groaned internally. "Sorry. I need to take this," she said, smiling apologetically at Jane.
It was like she thought. An emergency that she absolutely had to go deal with right this moment. In this case Cordco was attempting to muscle out their communications division in Tulsa. This should have been on her radar long before now; lately all she seemed to do was fight fires. She drank her coffee quickly. "I need to go," she said regretfully. "If you need anything at all, just let Jarvis know and someone will be sent out go get it."
"I need to head back upstairs anyway," Jane said. "It was nice talking to you though, Pepper."
"Likewise," she said sincerely. "And welcome to Avengers Tower by the way."
Now she had to go tell Tony that she wasn't going to be there for him when Shepherd came back.
There was something about the sight of Shepherd waiting in the training room, already dressed in protective gear, bright eyed, eager, ready and on time, that set Tony's teeth on edge. Maybe it was the way he looked immaculate while Tony felt like something that had been buried in peat for five thousand years. He'd cut back his meds as far as he dared. He needed a clear head, and at least Shepherd couldn't see him. This was an audio only experience. He had Tony's voice, and Dummy and You on standby, and that would have to do him.
Didn't exactly help when practically the first thing out of Shepherd's mouth after the phony pleasantries was "Is Miss Potts not here?"
"She had to fly to Tulsa for a meeting," Tony said shortly, and he watched the disappointment flash across Shepherd's face. He clenched his fist tightly, resisting the urge to throw the guy out right now. He hadn't done anything, after all. "Alright, let's get this over with," he said abruptly. "Dummy?"
Dummy obligingly held out the repulsors, but when Shepherd went to take them, he rolled backwards a little, holding them out of reach, clicking and whirring reprovingly.
Tony didn't like anyone touching his stuff and his robots knew that. Either Dummy had difficulty dealing with the conflicting commands, or it was just being stubborn. At any rate, Tony clearly should be stepping in and resolving the problem.
Instead he watched, amused, as Shepherd lunged forwards and tried to snatch the repulsors away, and Dummy moved back a little further.
"Stark, can't you control your...things?" Shepherd demanded at last, exasperated.
"Uh, they're called robots?" Tony pointed out annoyingly. "Dummy, hand them over." Dummy whirred uncertainly. "Remember what I said about donating you to MIT," he warned, and Dummy immediately rolled forwards, and Shepherd grabbed the repulsors quickly.
"Wouldn't it be safer and more efficient to just get people to do this?" Shepherd asked nervously, as You rolled up, wielding the fire extinguisher.
Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "Robots are less bother. Now," he went on briskly. "That's the most up to date model of repulsor I have. They're the ones that will be fitted onto your suit, but since learning to use them will take a while, I figured it should be a good place to start. Now for these ones, the switch is located by your thumb..."
There was a familiar hum, and Shepherd was bodily thrown into the wall.
Tony watched impassively. "...But I'd suggest you don't touch it until they're secure and you've learned to modulate the power," he finished. "Of course, whatever works for you."
That wasn't the last time, Shepherd went flying into the wall of the ceiling. It was impossibly frustrating. Tony felt like Shepherd just wasn't trying, and as the afternoon wore on, without any sign that Shepherd was getting it, he could tell that he was getting progressively more condescending and snappish. Pain and exhaustion were wearing down on him.
After a particularly bad crash, You sprayed Shepherd with maybe a little more enthusiasm than the tiny spark really merited, and Shepherd snapped. "Will you quit it!" he shouted, aiming a kick at You.
"Kick my robot again and you'll be tossed out of here so fast it'll make your head spin," Tony promised, his voice carved from ice, as You scuttled backwards across the floor, followed closely by Dummy. "Now, are you going to start listening, or should I call Fury and ask him to send someone with a functioning hearing aid?"
"Fine," Shepherd snapped back, without even a hint of contrition. "Lets get this over with."
He called a halt after another two hours when Shepherd started slipping back from even the small progress he'd made.
"You might as well come over tomorrow," he said just before he switched off the feed from the training room. "I was going to have you work on some simulations, maybe even have a couple of bits of armour to fit. But I think we're going to be working on this for a while."
He ignored the look that Shepherd gave the camera, letting his head drop to the pillow and closing his eyes as the pain drilled through him.
"Now, Mr Stark, it's time for your physiotherapy," Zara said cheerfully as she walked in without knocking.
"Not today," he said, with a wince at the thought of trying to move. There was no way that was happening.
"You need to do your exercises every day," his own personal torturer chided.
"No," he said again, opening his eyes to look at her. "Tomorrow, but not today. I'm too tired."
She sighed. "Alright, then, but let me at least check your reactions." He nodded wearily, and she walked up and pulled the covers off him, leaving him feeling helpless and exposed. "Must be a weight off your mind to have that new Iron Man," she commented chattily as she worked. "It's certainly a relief to me...I feel much better knowing Iron Man is around."
He flinched, and started to glare her down, but stopped, sighing. What was the point. "Yeah," he said tiredly. "I'm sure. Nice job on not sounding like a spy, by the way. You can tell Fury I'm playing along."
"I'm a physiotherapist," she said, like she had a dozen times before. "Not a spy."
"Sure," he said uninterestedly. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
She shot him a sympathetic look as she left. "Try and get some rest, Mr Stark."
He didn't have time to rest. He had to go over the results from today's training session and see if there was anything he was missing, anyway he could fix the problem through engineering, and then he needed to carry on working on the design for Shepherd's armour, and at some point he had to check in with Pepper about Tulsa, and he'd really meant to check over Jarvis' critical systems, because he normally did that once a month and that hadn't exactly been an option...
He shut his eyes again, trying to block the world out.
Steve had asked Jarvis to let him know when Tony was finished with Major Shepherd for the day. Time for Phase One of Operation Please-Let-This-Be-The-Right-Thing-To-Do to get underway. He walked into the changing room, just as Shepherd was finished getting changed. Immediately he could tell by the disgruntled expression on Shepherd's face, and the force with which a towel came sailing past his head to land in the laundry chute, that things hadn't gone well.
Shepherd was staring at him, clearly mortified to have thrown a dirty towel at Captain America. "Oh, Captain Rogers. I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see you there."
"Don't worry about it," Steve said easily. "And please. Call me Steve. Round here we mostly stick to first names."
"Of course," Shepherd said, smiling. "And I'm Harry." He hesitated. "How's Thor doing? And Agent Romanov?"
He couldn't help but smile approvingly at the question. Good to know that in spite of the evident hero worship, Shepherd didn't think they were invincible. "They're both doing okay," he said reassuringly. He'd been checking regularly, and Natasha was now feeling better enough to throw something at him. Which was usually a good sign. "So, how did it go today?" he asked.
The tension visibly increased. "Fine," Shepherd said shortly.
He raised an eyebrow and said nothing, waiting patiently.
"There were a few difficulties, but nothing I can't handle," Shepherd said instead. "I will get it, I swear."
"Good," Steve said, but that wasn't all of it. He sighed, feeling like a traitor. "I know Tony can be difficult - "
" - or impossible," Shepherd said, grinning brightly like he was trying to convince the world it was a joke.
"That bad, huh?" Steve said sympathetically.
"I'm not complaining," Shepherd assured him. "But it just like he expects me to understand everything he says, and he acts like I'm stupid when I can't."
Steve felt a stab of sympathy. He'd been on the receiving end of that look before. And he knew that Tony didn't mean to make him feel dumb. Just that Tony genuinely didn't understand how anyone couldn't understand what he was talking about and he wasn't that hot on explaining either.
"Got a few bruises, huh?" he asked with a sheepish smile. "We've all tried it at some point. I hit the ceiling so hard we had to get the floor above retiled. And Natasha managed to break Clint's bow by firing a repulsor when she was trying to hover."
Shepherd grinned slightly. "Nice to know my incompetence is in good company."
"That's the spirit," he said, cheerfully clapping him on the shoulder. "Listen, do you want to come out for a drink with me, Natasha and Bruce? Once your armour's finished we'll be training together – I'd prefer to get to know you before I'm trying to punch you."
"That sounds great, thanks," Shepherd said, brightening immensely. "I just gotta go make a phone call – I'll meet you outside?"
"Sure thing," Steve nodded.
"He didn't tell you he kicked one of Tony's robots," a voice from nowhere commented as the changing room door swung behind Shepherd.
Coolly, Steve lifted his eyes to the air vent and regarded Clint. "And I didn't tell him he was being spied on," he answered simply. "Seems fair, doesn't it?" He sighed. "I thought we agreed to give Shepherd a chance?"
"I'm giving him a chance," Clint said promptly. "I'm just not automatically trusting him. I don't like new people just walking in like they own the place."
"He's hardly - " Steven protested, but Clint had vanished. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. It had been a while since he'd seen Clint that on edge. Not since the early days after Loki, when he'd skulked around the tower like a ghost.
Shepherd was already a poor substitution for Tony. If they lost Clint as well as result of this...the team could be falling apart at the seams.
The night out went well enough. They had a couple of beers and swapped jokes and stories. Nothing too heavy, nothing too personal, but enough that Steve was convinced that Shepherd was a good guy; one that in other circumstances he'd have been pleased to have in his unit. He could see Bruce start to relax a little as well, and Natasha...well, she was an enigma. He really had no idea what she thought of Shepherd, but then she hadn't seemed to have an objection to bringing him in, so that was probably okay.
They'd made their excuses early on though – Natasha was still technically on the injured list, and Bruce didn't like to be out when people started getting drunker. As for Steve, honestly, he just preferred nights in. And that was something he tried to keep to himself – it made him sound like he was from the forties, only he'd got here the slow way.
As was his habit these days, he headed upstairs when he got in to check in with Tony. Apart from wanting to see him, he needed to talk to him about Shepherd as soon as possible. The last thing he wanted was to feel like he was going behind Tony's back.
"We need to talk," he began seriously as he walked in, and he stopped, distracted. "I didn't know you played chess," he said, surprised.
The room was dark and there was a game of chess in progress on the screen above Tony's bed. Steve guessed he was probably playing against Jarvis.
"Obie taught me," Tony said, not looking round, and he sounded unbelievably tired.
"Obadiah Stane?" Steve asked incredulously. He'd heard the story, after all. Stane had tried to have Tony killed, and when that hadn't worked, he'd taken a more personal approach. It was a bit of a leap from that to chess teacher.
Tony nodded. "On my fourth birthday. It was just after I'd built my first circuit board. I had this stupid idea that if I could help Dad with his work, he'd stay." He laughed shortly. "He just told me that my tack soldering was hopeless and the board would burn out after barely a month heavy use. And then he left on his latest expedition. Out searching for..." He blinked and looked at Steve for the first time, and Steve felt stupidly guilty, knowing exactly who Howard had been searching for. "He left. And Mom had some society benefit for disadvantaged children. So I was left with the nanny, who hated me. Not that she didn't have good reason..." he added with a slight, distant smile. "I was an awful child. Sure that won't surprise you to hear. Obie was over at the house for some reason...Dad had just taken him on, and I think he was supposed to be on a conference call, but I guess he felt sorry for me. We ate birthday cake and he taught me how to play chess. Later I showed him the board I'd made and then the next day he showed it to the papers. They ran a story calling me a prodigy. Guess he thought it was good publicity for the company, but I just remember..." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Knight to Queen Four," he said, and the piece on the board above moved silently.
"I never really thought of him knowing you when you were a kid," Steve said softly, not certain what he could say, not used to Tony actually being in any kind of sharing mood. The few scraps of his early life Tony had divulged before had left him struggling to match the Howard he'd known with the one who'd callously neglected his son.
"Uh huh," Tony nodded flippantly. "And thirty years later he decides I'm not worth keeping around. And then I kill him."
Steve winced, and opened his mouth, searching for the right words, searching for anything he could say. He couldn't imagine that sort of betrayal.
"Don't," Tony said, infinitely weary. "Just don't."
He didn't. He sat down on the chair by Tony's bed.
"I took Shepherd out for a drink," he said quietly after a long moment of silence.
"Good," Tony said, not looking at him. "Finding yourself a steady beau, just like I said."
"Tony..." he sighed, and he could have punched himself for the reproving tone. This was Tony trying to drive him away. He needed to be certain Tony understood. "It's just practicality. If we're going to work together, we need to know each other."
"I know that," Tony said dismissively. "It makes perfect sense, don't worry. And you're not exactly bringing me news here. I already knew, and even if I hadn't known, Clint told me. And Thor and Jane mentioned when they stopped by. She's smart, by the way. She was talking about extradimensional space...I like her. I was thinking about getting her a lab. Is it weird getting another guy's girlfriend a lab?"
"Anyone ever tell you you're a master at changing the subject?" he asked dryly.
"Few times," Tony said, turning his head and meeting Steve's eyes. "Look, I don't want to talk about Shepherd, alright? I'm doing everything I should be, aren't I? I'm doing the right thing, so why are you here?"
"Because you're lying alone in the dark playing chess against your AI?" Steve suggested before he could help himself. "I'm worried."
"I'm fine," Tony said, with the smile that he wheeled out at press conferences when things were bad.
He stood up and turned to face the window, like he was stretching his legs. "I can tell you the names of every man I served with," he said softly, out of nowhere. "I can tell you what their favourite movie was, what brand cigarettes they liked, what they said when they got letters from home. I can tell you how they died." He swallowed hard, suddenly struggling against the memory. "I carry that with me all the time. I could never find a friend...'not worth keeping around'."
For a time there was silence and he listened to Tony's ragged breathing, not looking, knowing that if he pushed even a fraction, Tony would shut him out.
"That was shamelessly sentimental," Tony said at last, his voice steady.
He smiled gladly. "Maybe. You want to play chess?" he asked, turning round and he was rewarded with an honest smile.
"With you?" Tony studied him a second. "Yeah. I'd like that."
"Want to make it interesting?" he offered. "A dollar says that you beat me in ten moves."
Tony grinned. "Ten dollars says I can beat you in five."
"You're on," he smiled.
"Thanks Steve," Tony mumbled later as he was leaving, so softly that only someone with super enhanced hearing could possibly have heard.