Notes: I'm not dead! I am sorry for disappearing forever, but I was forced to take a sudden hiatus due to my life literally falling apart. Things aren't great, but I think it's time for me to go back to writing. That being said, updates will probably be slow, but that's better than none at all.
Chapter 20: Only Mildly Obsessed
Tony paced the length of his workshop in Stark Tower. He'd never admit it, but he honestly didn't think he could deal with being in the penthouse without visualizing the dead would-be assassins lying in the middle of it. If he was going to be completely honest, he'd had it with all the killing - all the pointless violence. When he'd become Iron Man, he thought he stop this shit from happening. His death count only seemed to be rising.
He was only vaguely aware of Hollie watching him with an unreadable expression on her face. She was sitting cross-legged in the chair behind his desk. "Fury could be anywhere, and he's more than capable of taking care of himself. We should focus on Dante." She said, and absently twirled a screwdriver in her hands. She dropped it, and stared at it in disgust as it rolled off the edge of the desk. She was still making great strides in her recovery, but fine motor skills were still beyond her grasp outside of her suit.
Tony bent over and retrieved the screwdriver. "Sure, but now that his base was blown to shit he's going to disappear for a while if he has half a brain. From what Clint and Nat said, it sounds like he's a major player in the terrorists' leadership."
"Egli è morto un uomo a camminare (He is a dead man walking)." Hollie growled, drumming her fingertips on the desk. "I need to make sure Angel is safe. If he knows about her, she will be his target."
"Nat's already on it," Tony reassured her. "Listen, I... Well, I should probably apologize for being an ass before when we talked on the plane."
"Drop it", Hollie warned.
"No. I wont." Tony pressed, leaning against the edge of the desk beside her. He knew he was only digging himself even deeper into massive pit he'd already dug, but he wanted answers. Really, he just wanted something to give. The tension between them was killing him. What did he want, though? She wanted to be loved. He had no idea about love, and honestly the idea sort of terrified him. Yet, it was exhilarating at the same. Never let it be said that Tony Stark is not attracted to dangerous things. Was he even attracted to her? Sure, she was pretty, but also terrifying and he knew damn well that he couldn't give her what she needed. Tony Stark master of one night stands and horrible decisions, was not good for Hollie. So why was he suddenly so obsessed with her? It seemed as though every thought he had somehow came right back to Hollie.
"What do you plan to do once Dante is dead?" tony asked, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice. For all he knew she could, and probably did, see right through him. Maybe not. She was an assassin, not a spy. She killed people. Surely killing people for a living didn't make it necessary to metaphorically dissect their thought process.
"I don't know." Hollie admitted. "It never really seemed like a possibility before."
"And the mafia, do you think they'll leave you alone once we off him?" Tony pried.
"I can't say, but I doubt it. Many of them would kill me on principal if they could, for the same reason I want Dante dead. But they do not know my face. With everything that I've done, all the people I've killed, I'm not sure I deserve any better than he is going to get. The mafia aren't my only enemies; there's plenty of others who've had their businesses and families destroyed because of the work I've done." Hollie explained. "I'm no better than they are, Stark. Don't forget that."
"What about Natasha? You two aren't that different, but you wouldn't say that about her. That's a bit hypocritical."
Hollie sighed and glared at Tony. "Her and Barton? We're all the same. SHIELD likes it that way. We're expendable. Sure, we're useful, but at the end of the day we're no better than the people they use us to kill. We're just statistics, that's all. Murderers, in the service of murderers with a bigger bank account."
"You have a kid to look after, and from what I've seen you've got a lot more of a heart than you let on to. Sure, you fucked up. Big time. But that's what being human is all about. You got a second chance; do something with it. There's no less blood on my hands than there is on yours, honey. I'll never make up for what my arrogance caused, but it's the past. It's what I do going forward that matters." Tony ranted, wondering how broken someone could possibly be to think they honestly deserved to be hunted down like a dog.
"The past never truly goes away, though. Does it?" She asked rhetorically and tapped her index finger against Tony's chest where the glow from his arc reactor was slightly visible through his shirt. "It's right there, always with you, and it could easily destroy you in the blink of an eye."
Tony paled, as a flashback of Obadiah ripping out the arc reactor crossed his mind. He'd never felt more helpless as he lay, for all intents and purposes, dying on the floor of his workshop. "All right, you win this round, Buttercup." Tony conceded and looked over her shoulder at half-repaired gauntlet from her suit. "We still didn't settle on your super hero name."
Hollie rolled her eyes. "I am no hero."
"Maybe not, but you don't have to keep playing the villain. Forget about who are for now, and think about who you want to be. I didn't drop a few million getting you back on your feet for you to spend the rest of you life hating yourself." Tony said flippantly and walked away without another word. He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone in his workshop, but he felt like he was talking to a brick wall and he couldn't deal with it anymore. What was it that he saw in her? She wasn't some damsel in distress. She didn't need Iron Man to swoop in and save the day. She'd made that clear. So why did he feel like he needed to rescue her? ...To protect her?
Lost in his thoughts, Tony completely ignored Natasha who was sitting in the lounge and went for the bar. She was wearing a simple pair of blue jeans with a worn leather jacket, and watching him with a scowl on her face. Tony had an open bottle of scotch halfway to his lips before he was distracted by her plucking it from his hands. He glared at her, but didn't argue. Arguing with Natasha never got him anywhere, except right back where she wanted him.
"What?"
"Come with me, I'll tell you in the car." She said and made for the garage. Tony rolled his eyes and wondered when he started following her like an obedient dog. Though, to be fair, she'd probably find a less pleasant way to make him cooperate if he gave her any shit.
"All right, Kim Possible, where are we going?" Tony demanded as she got into the driver's seat of his red challenger.
"Get in Stark." She snapped.
"For fuck's sake." He grumbled and plopped into the barely used passenger seat.
Natasha pulled away from Stark tower; she'd turned off his music the moment Jarvis turned it on. Tony wasn't sure how he managed to sit in the less than companionable silence. Probably only because it was Natasha and she'd strangle him with her bra if he started chattering. It wasn't until they reached a run-down neighborhood in Queens that she finally spoke. Natasha parked the car near a filthy looking apartment building that had a pile of garbage bags taller than the hulk piled in front of it. Tony looked out the window at a pair of hood rats in the middle of a drug deal.
"You are not leaving my car here." He said flatly.
"We won't be long." She said and opened the glove box to retrieve a handgun that Tony had hidden there in case he needed it. "Honestly, your paranoia is more useful than you think. Sometimes I feel like you're the only Avenger that knows how to be prepared for when the shit hits the fan. But then, I guess we aren't super soldiers. Take this, you might need it."
Tony frowned and stuffed the gun into the back pocket of his jeans. "What the fuck, why?"
"We don't have much time, Stark so I'm going to keep this short. Hollie lives here, With Angelica. Steve and Maria have been looking after her. I haven't heard from either of them in three days. We're taking Angelica with us – by force if necessary, to keep her safe." Natasha explained and Got out of the car. Tony followed, struggling to keep up with her.
"We're going to take a toddler by force?" Tony asked incredulously.
"Not her, idiot. The mafia might be here." Natasha hissed, and shoved him behind her as they entered the lobby of the building. Tony stayed close behind as she made for the old rusty metal stairs.
"I was being sarcastic, Anastasia." Tony quipped and almost ran into her as she stopped at the top of the stairs to scan the hall for threats. She kept her hand in the pocket of her jacket, on the handle of own gun most likely.
"It's clear, stay close." She whispered and headed down the hall. They stopped outside of a blank metal door marked #262.
"This place sure is cheery. I should ask Jarvis to get me the number for their interior decorator." Tony complained as Natasha pressed her ear to the door and listened.
"Damn it. I can't hear anything." She whispered.
Tony knelt down beside her and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 'Phone' being a rather vague description considering he built it himself and it could do almost anything. "Jarvis, give me a security scan of number 262." He said quietly. Natasha watched with interest as a miniature 3D hologram of the apartment popped up above the phone screen. Jarvis identified a child (Angelica), asleep on the couch and a certain MIA super soldier in the kitchenette.
"Looks like we're safe." Tony supplied. Natasha nodded and rang the bell, while shooting Steve a text to open the door for her. In the hologram projection, Tony saw the little girl wake up out of a dead sleep and bolt behind the couch. He closed the program and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
"Hey, Steve." Natasha said curtly when he opened the door. "Would it kill you to answer the phone?"
"It might, actually. Come on." He said and ushered them inside. "Be careful, the Mafia's watching this place. And it was Hill who said not to answer any calls unless you actually came here. We haven't seen her in a week."
"She called a few days ago to let me know everything was fine." Natasha commented and sat on the couch. Angelica peeked over the top of it when she heard Natasha's voice. "You can come out." She added, nodding in her direction.
A little girl with curly black hair darted from behind the couch and latched onto Natasha, looking up at Tony with wide blue eyes. Tony looked around at the apartment, finding it hard to believe that someone like Hollie really lived here. It was drab, full of second hand furnishings, and the TV was so old Tony was surprised it actually worked. He sat in the hideous floral print armchair across from the couch, and tried not to think about it. He had to get her out of this hellhole – both her and the kid. Granted being in such an inconspicuous place probably made hiding from the mafia easier, but it was fucking depressing. Really, she needed to stop hiding and just kick their asses. Maybe he'd do it for her. No one would miss them.
"So, Maria is missing, too?" Tony asked, looking away from the worn industrial carpet. "I wonder if that's how that mafia spy chick that Hollie fried knew to take her identity."
"Apparently." Natasha muttered. "I hope we find her, and not a body."
"So, Maria isn't the only one who's missing?" Steve asked, leaning on Tony's chair.
"No, Fury might be a prisoner, but we don't have anything to prove that." Natasha explained. "But Fury isn't important right now. He dug his own hole. We need to stop the Tea Party. We're going to need our team leader for that."
"What about Angelica?" Steve asked, glancing at the little girl attached to Natasha's hip.
"She comes with us. It'll be easier to keep her safe at Stark's mansion." Natasha explained dully.
"...In Malibu?" Tony said, frowning. "No one asked me about this."
"The Tower isn't safe, Stark." Natasha reminded him. "Neither is the mansion, but it's better than here and I doubt the mafia wants to fuck with the Avengers."
"Language, Natasha!" Steve whined. "There's a child here."
Tony rolled his eyes and Angelica giggled. At least some things never changed. He and Steve would always have their differences, but he was predictable, consistent – A rock to cling to when everything else was a complete shit storm that didn't make any goddamn sense. There was a reason he was team mom after all. ...He even made them pancakes and sausage sometimes.
"Right, so. What's the rest of the plan?" Tony asked, dreading whatever she'd concocted.
"Your jet. Clint can fly it so there won't be any risk of infiltration. Bruce is meeting us at the airport." Natasha said. "Steve, you're coming too."