Fade Into You

Rated: R

Notes:

Sorry this took so long! I sprained my elbow (I didn't even know that was a thing) and with that writing sucked for awhile. This really is a filler chapter, where it's more about emotions vs. actions. We see this chapter starting at the very end of The Avengers movie.

Enjoy, review, see you next time!

Chapter 8: Merging Two Worlds

"I don't think you understand what you've started. Letting the Avengers loose on this world. They're dangerous."

"They surely are. And the whole world knows it. Every world knows it."

"Was that the point of all this, a statement?"

"A promise."

With one simple touch the video feed went black, blinking off for a moment before one of the faces appeared on the screen again.

"Mr. Holmes, I think I've made my point-I'd hate to have to go through all of that again."

"You made yourself quite clear." The well dressed Mr. Holmes stated, "This is unrelated."

"Well? I got places to be, there is a city that needs to be rebuilt, I have men dead."

"It seems while we were watching New York and the movements of your...Avengers, something went by our security here."

Well, that was worrisome.

"Another threat?"

"Not a threat for you, it remains on my watch. This is about Starks daughter."

Of course.

"Is it bad?"

"I think, it would be in our best interest to alert him that she is currently in the hospital recovering from extensive torture."

"Connor?"

"Slipped through the cracks, seems to have been recruited by someone over here that has a vendetta for my brother."

"I thought she would be safe living there?"

"Yes well…"

"I thought we agreed she would be watched constantly, living there was the best choice since you're already keeping tabs on your brother-need I remind you how fucking unsettling that is?"

The man on the screen just gave him an unimpressed look, and Fury smiled-truly the only man in the world who seemed fine to go against him. When the man didn't speak, Fury continued on.

"How bad?"

"She's been in the hospital for the last three days, she was only captive a little over 24 hours. Superficial cuts and bruising, it looks like some of the...abuse caused some internal bleeding, as well as three of her ribs to be broken. She really isn't coherent yet."

He liked the kid, she was a hard worker, and smart. A good tool for SHIELD and could be used for leeway with Stark if need be. Unfortunately there was always an angle, that's just how it worked. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Tell me then, how did you come across her if you didn't even realize she was missing in the first place?"

"My brother found her."

"Your brother sure is coming up a lot in this conversation, I don't know how I feel about that. And if I don't know how I feel about that, how do you think Stark is going to take this? Especially after we didn't tell him about the jail break? Which I do believe was YOUR call."

"I believe it was a joint call between Agent Coulson and myself."

"Well Stark is under the belief that Agent Coulson is deceased so I'm pretty sure all of the blame is going to be placed upon you."

There was a beat of silence between the two of them, he wondered how he was going to bring this up to Stark. Stark who just started to play nicely. It was going to be just a wonderful fucking conversation, that's what it was going to be.

"Does he know? Your brother? He seems to be getting quite close to her, playing hero after all. Does he know who she is?"

"His landlady filled him in, what she didn't know he's been searching for online. He's been at the hospital staying with her, he wants answers."

"Well he'll get his damn answers soon enough, I'm sure Stark will run to her the moment he finds out...this threat of yours...anything we need to worry about?"

"If it was I would have involved you, it is a problem in house, I wouldn't worry about it."

"I hope you learn from your mistakes, doesn't matter if it's one of your in house problems or something else-she's always in danger for being his daughter...you agreed to watch in exchange for help with Budapest."

"I'm aware. I'll see to it the error in our ways doesn't happen again."

"Good. Now I have to go inform him of that error. I would expect you'll be getting a visit soon."

"I'm aware."

And with that the screen went black again. He sighed, nothing could ever be easy. Save the world, get thrown into some other shit.

People owed him favors. He had cashed one of them in at the hospital, the nurses, the staff in general did not bother him as he sat by Maddie's side. He would only leave if John took his place. He argued with John that he wasn't staying because he was worried for her, but it was because the moment she woke up he wanted to find out why she kept it from him.

John argued it was simple, she wanted to get away from her past and from having a world famous dad. It was logical, but Sherlock couldn't help but be hurt from being lied to.

Sure he lied a lot as well, but that wasn't the point.

After they had handed her off to the paramedics, Sherlock had went straight to Mrs. Hudson. He had been soaking wet, pounding on her door at two in the morning-demanding answers. The answers boggled him.

Madeline O'Brien was actually Madeline Stark, the only heir to Tony Stark-Iron Man. Of course, after finding that out he had no idea why Moriarty had wanted it out in the open. That was a mystery that would be saved for another day, for when she was awake. Instead Sherlock focused on Maddie-finding out everything and anything about her.

He spent three days by her bedside, busy on his laptop, looking at old news articles, finding videos. A lot of information was deleted, removed webpages, or videos that were not able to be viewed-it was clear that someone (either her or her genius father) went to the trouble of having information on her eradicated.

What he came away with after three days of learning and searching was:

She was not only smart, but a genius as well. She could learn and retain knowledge just as well as her father, but tended to skew herself towards language, and simple subjects (for whatever reason he didn't know why).

Maddie was raised by her mother who had indeed succumbed to cancer when Maddie was only fourteen. In the span of the year after that she was left with her step father, Connor who had been in her life since her birth (and who she thought to be her birth father). He had tortured and raped her on her fifteenth birthday. Apparently he "snapped".

As a child she would play piano around the united states, where Connor had a rather large following as a semi-famous reverend. There was one video online (that took some searching for) where she was a little red headed ten year old playing the piano as Connor praised Jesus in front of a large crowd in Alabama. She was good.

Her years with her real father, Tony Stark were more or less hard to find out about. Tony kept her out of the limelight, but occasionally in paparazzi photos, or in articles you would see glimpses of her, or he would talk about being a father fondly.

He had been making news again the last few days, New York had been under attack. His face, along with the faces of several others had flashed across the muted TV screen in the hospital room constantly.

Sherlock didn't understand why she lied to HIM, why he couldn't figure that out from the very beginning. He knew she was hiding something, but he thought it was...well he didn't know what it was-he always cast the thought over it as insignificant. She wasn't insignificant though...far from it.

He watched her sleep, shutting his laptop with a sigh. She had been briefly lucid earlier that day, but the nurse had been in there with them-and while he had favors owed to him, it didn't extend to letting him interrogate a woman who was just waking after torture. They told him she should wake up though...soon.

It was all so boring, yet he couldn't tear himself away.

"Nothing yet?"

John. He walked into the room, looking a little worse for wear. He didn't sleep much the night before apparently.

"Nothing since this morning." He explained curtly as John took his seat on the opposite side of her. She wasn't hooked up to many machines, a heart monitor was clasped onto one of her fingers, an IV giving her fluids and pain medication stuck in the back of her hand. Other tubes ran under her blankets, but he didn't inquire as to what THOSE did. John however, every time he walked in and sat with her would look over her chart, make a note to check every single tube, every connection, make sure her bandages were clean.

"They've been backing away on the medications a bit, so she's more likely to wake up." John told him, looking at her chart that was placed on the end of her bed. "Have you figured it out yet?"

A question he was asking him daily...hourly sometimes.

"No. There was no reason for Moriarty to bring who she really is to my attention." A sigh, frustrating. "At this point, I feel like that was just part of a game. He thinks I care about her."

"You do."

"Caring is a weakness John."

John didn't look convinced at that.

"And...her step father?"

Sherlock frowned at the mention of him, the image of Connor tightly holding her tortured body, throwing her roughly into the water was still burned into his mind. "A controllable soldier. He'll do what Moriarty wants as long as Moriarty gives her to him for awhile. Moriarty get's to hurt someone he thinks I care about without getting his hands dirty."

John nodded, but remained quite.

They both sat in silence, both watching her, listening to the sounds of the hospital.

Sherlock couldn't help but wonder why he still cared for her, or even why John could very well be considered his friend. Despite how hard he tried, he couldn't help but be fond of them. They balanced him out in a way he didn't know he needed. The thought of losing one or both of them...hurt.

Going from seeing John strapped to a bomb, to Maddie broken and battered...it hurt.

"I'll burn the heart out of you"

"I've been reliably informed that I do not have one."

"But we both know that's not quite true…"

When he found out he had a daughter, he didn't know what to do. He didn't think he would be a very good father, he was a playboy, he was selfish (he could fully admit to that), and he was just too busy running Stark Industries. He didn't want to be the kind of dad that his own father was, so he had tried-he really tried his hardest.

Maybe too hard sometimes. Maybe too little. There was no real learning curve with being a parent, especially one who came into the parenting scene fifteen years too late. They both learned though, he and Mads. She didn't know what a true loving father was, and he didn't know what it was like to have someone truly depend on you. Sure a lot of people depended on his company, on Iron Man, even Pepper depended on him-but having Mads was different. He couldn't check out.

The bad thing was...he WAS Iron Man. When she came to live with him he had just built his first suit, people did depend on him. She understood. She was bright, she was not selfish (trait from her mother), she was deeply understanding of him and other people. She knew he had work to do, knew he'd get holed up in his workshop, she understood he had to take risks for the greater good (or maybe sometimes just to show off).

Still, it was hard. They had their moments, her going off screaming because of one little comment about her not liking engineering, him in a shouting match with her for accepting an offer to work with SHIELD without consulting him. He could understand why she thought it was better for her to go and try to live her own life. He didn't want to understand, but he did.

He however, did not understand her signature on a piece of paper that stated she didn't want him to know that her stepfather had broken out of jail. He was a superhero, he should have been the first one she told. Instead she opted to sign away letting him know. He wasn't a stupid man, he knew SHIELD put the pen in her hand, he knew if she thought he was busy she wouldn't want to bother him.

What made it worse was by the time Nick Fury showed up, he was half drunk on wine after celebrating being alive with Pepper and hanging plastic all over Stark tower to truly understand what was going on. Actually, the curse of the genius had struck-he fully well (even half drunk) understood what was going on-he just didn't want to believe it. If he had believed it then it meant that his little girl was hurt, and she didn't ask for his help in the first place...before the hurt.

The only thing stopping him from crawling into his suit and flying across the ocean to be by her side was the fact that Fury already made sure the Stark jet was prepped and ready for take off and that Pepper was silently crying, she wanted to see Mads too.

Pepper had already begun packing on the lower and less damaged personal level of Stark tower. Tony was walking Fury out.

"If I find him I will kill him." Tony told Fury, a warning that he would follow through with. "If I see him walk back into a courtroom I will kill him."

"Orders for anyone are to shoot on sight."

"I just don't understand why...why I didn't just go with my gut before and take him out."

"Stark, don't do that to yourself. You were busy trying to connect with a deeply wounded daughter, he went through the system just like anyone else." Fury sighed, "Had we known this was a possible outcome we wouldn't have let him continue to exist."

Tony just nodded, he was itching to leave. He needed to leave, to be with her.

"You and I." Fury started, "Know that she is aware you love her. She also knows what's best for the greater good. Had she requested you to come be by her side and protect her, all of Manhattan would have been obliterated, hell we might still have aliens coming to enslave us. She is a good member of SHIELD, she'd make an even better active agent…"

"Over my dead body."

Both men were silent for a moment, standing near the door-plastic sheets billowing in the wind. Only speaking again once Pepper's heels clicked on the floor, signaling her approach. "I wish the two of you a good trip, give her my regards."

He left, as swiftly as he came. Tony wasn't quite sure what to say or do, the first time it had happened (it shouldn't have happened again, he should have been there dammit!) he didn't have as many emotional ties to her, but after the years had went by he found a deep growing love and admiration towards his daughter, and the hurt was worse. Pepper put her hand on his shoulder, she had packed quickly, one single suitcase for them to share, and a garment bag folded over her other arm. Light to pack, they were both well aware they could easily buy what was needed.

"Let's go."

"Oh thank God she's waking up when he's not here." John's voice. He sounded tired, but good.

Her vision was blurry but she at least knew he was there with her.

Mouth was dry.

She herself felt blurry. Pain medication?

Wait...why would she be on pain medication…?

It hit her like a ton of bricks, Connor torturing her, John had been there, then Sherlock dragged her out of a pool.

"Heart rate is going up." A voice she didn't know.

"Maddie, calm down you're okay-you're safe. In a hospital…" John again. She felt something warm on her shoulder, his hand. She blinked her eyes, vision finally coming back to her. There he was, bags under his eyes, plaid button up on, smiling. Trying to be reassuring. "Heart rate is going back down…" He said to whoever else was in the room, she didn't want to look at that person. Just at John, watching him look her over. His hand went to her forehead. "I'm so happy you're awake, been getting dreadfully bored."

"I'll let the her doctor know she's awake so he can look her over, but everything looks fine…"

There was a quiet moment, she was busy looking around now that it was just John and her. She was trying to flex everything to make sure her body was still working. Fingers worked, toes looked to be twitching under the blanket, all seemed well. Last time she had woke up like this, doctors had been swarming around her endlessly, either she wasn't hurt as badly or they trusted John's skills to look after her instead of overwhelming her with pokes and prods.

"Ho...how long?" Scratchy voice, felt like cotton was stuffed down her throat, it made her want a soda. Anytime she had a sore throat she wanted soda, not to mention the comfort of it in general.

"Little over three or so days" He told her, "You had a bit of internal bleeding, so it was mostly the blood loss that kept you down."

She nodded. That sucked. It all sucked. Just when life was getting good. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of something bright. Her head turned to look fully, and was surprised to see a great deal of flowers and get well cards. "Wh...who?"

He caught her gaze, and gave a soft chuckle. "Mrs. Hudson, myself, Molly too-the yellow roses are from her. She's been dreadfully worried, I didn't know the two of you had gotten so close."

"S...sarah."

"Yes, I do suppose I've been busy with her. I'm sorry about that."

She shook her head, "Don't b...be."

"I feel like I need to warn you, Sherlock could come round at any time and...well let's just say he has some questions."

Oh yeah, they probably knew now. It was like a dam breaking after John told her Sherlock would be around with questions. He knew, and she didn't want him to know. Hell, she didn't want him or John to see her like that, ever. Her face felt hot and she could feel her eyes start to water.

"Hey, hey there Maddie. It's not a big deal, you know him he wants to understand everything-that's all. Moreso now that Moriarty involved you in his sick little game." John had moved to sit on the edge of her bed, careful to avoid her and any tubes running out of her. From her vision she could only see a minimal amount of tubes but she could feel others under the blankets. She swallowed hard.

"Not mad?"

"I think Sherlock is frustrated that he doesn't understand how you and your stepfather fit into Moriarty's plan. Not mad though."

"You?"

He frowned, clearly thinking. "Maddie, I couldn't be mad over something like this. Your past is your own business, just like mine is my own business. I can understand why maybe you might want your own life away from your past, doesn't mean I don't wish you could have told me."

She was about to tell him about how hard it was to lie when her doctor came in, along with a nurse. Seemed like their time was up and she needed to be looked over and given an exam now that she was awake for a few minutes. John placed a soft kiss to the top of her head, letting her know that she still was in fact a sister to him. He promised he'd be back later, warned her again about Sherlock and disappeared out of the room. Leaving her surrounded by people she didn't know, poking and prodding places that hurt.

Fun.

"How is she?"

John back tracked at the voice, looking over the figure sitting near Maddie's room door with a bit of shock. Amongst all the hospital flair, the paging over the intercoms, the chill in the air, the man looked...off. Then again, he always looked off.

"Her doctors are in with her now Mycroft, what are you doing here?"

The elder Holmes gave a nod towards her door, "Yes, they told me they would be seeing to her shortly, that I could go in after."

"They're making sure everything is healing properly."

"How is she...I heard her voice a bit, does she seem...okay?"

John didn't know what to say or think after that, Mycroft showing concern? Perhaps it wasn't true concern, but there was something there. "For what she just experienced, she's not sobbing in the corner. Seemed more concerned about what Sherlock and myself thought about her now."

"Ah yes, now that you know she is truly Miss. Stark. And how do you feel about that?"

"I don't think it's a big deal, not that it is any of your concern."

Mycroft nodded, his hands stacked on the end of his umbrella. "Fair enough."

"Why are you here anyway, Sherlock said she worked for you but I don't take you the type to show up at employees hospital bedsides"

"While you and Sherlock were off gallivanting around…"

"Excuse me but we were also doing something for you...or did you forget about the missile plans?"

Mycroft gave him a look, and John didn't see the point in continuing to interrupt the man.

"While you and my brother were...working, New York City was under attack as were members of the government agency which young Miss. Stark works for."

"Christ."

"Yes, I didn't think you'd be paying attention to the news. Although I'm surprised my brother didn't mention it-considering all the research he's doing right now."

"I told him I didn't want to know, I'd find out her past from herself."

"Honor will only get you so far Dr. Watson. Regardless, her agency lost a lot of good people the last few days, so there is only more bad news for her."

"You can't go in there and tell her about that right now…" John started.

"I am not as cold as you or my brother seem to think I am. I'm simply here to make sure she is well, and to warn her that her father will be here in a few hours."

"Oh."

"Yes...'oh'."

She's awake, you're only going to have this one chance to have her open up to you-if you are too brash she'll close herself up. -JW

Also your Brother is with her right now. -JW

Sherlock had went home for a shower, to change his clothes, to possibly re-watch one of the videos of a younger Maddie playing piano in front of a large crowd. He enjoyed showers, they gave him time to think without distraction. The act of cleaning oneself wasn't a distraction, it was routine. Get wet, pour shampoo in your hair, lather, rinse...so on. He liked the water scalding, leaving red splotches against his alabaster skin. He was nearly ready to rinse off the last of a sandalwood smelling soap when his phone chirped. Once, then again. Two text messages.

He rinsed faster than he had planned too, toweled his hair leaving it wild, and wrapped the dark towel around his still dripping hips. John. She was awake. Both pleasant and not pleasant news. It meant he could interrogate her on what had happened, on why she had kept her past from him, but it also meant he would be able to see her awake...and not just laying there looking bruised and defeated.

He wanted to kill the man that had did that to her, her stepfather according to records. He'd done it before, he did it again, and Sherlock would kill him if he saw him. It made him very angry, more angry than he should have been.

The sort of emotion that made him stand there leaning against the bathroom sink wondering what his best approach was with Maddie because he didn't want her to close up against him. The kind of emotion that made him disgusted at himself for caring, it gave him no advantage. None. Yet there he was, Mrs. Hudson, John, Maddie…

Something like this, caring as he did could be the end of him…

Forty minutes had went by before he had arrived at the hospital. It felt different this time around. Every other time the last few days he had been coming to sit next to her while she was unconscious. This time he knew she was awake, ready for questions. His strides were remarkably slower than they normally would have been on the quest for information. Her floor wasn't as busy as it was during the morning hours. As the evening approached the staff was changing shifts, visitors were leaving. John was no where in sight, and just as he was approaching her door Mycroft walked out of it, leaning on his umbrella ever so slightly.

"Ah, I was wondering how long it would take you to be back."

"And you were?"

"She is my employee after all."

Sherlock didn't look impressed by that, it still annoyed him that she worked for Mycroft. Even if you could say it was only due to her living in London. "Did you tell her?"

"Yes, she is aware of the incident in New York. She's also aware that some people were lost, she may not be an active field agent but she did have friends that were killed." Mycroft's tone was quieter, making Sherlock wonder if someone Mycroft was friends (well as friendly as Mycroft could be) with had died as well.

"How did she take it?"

"Better than you may think. Are you here to interrogate her?"

"I just want to know why."

"Be careful brother, this caring business isn't good for you." Mycroft sighed.

They were quiet for a few moments, standing near but not together. Both staring at the clock on the wall above the nurses station slowly ticking away.

Mycroft was the one to continue, "Unfortunately what I feared about putting her in Baker Street has come true. You two have become entangled and not for the better…"

"Entangled, I think not."

"She was kidnapped because of whatever relationship you two have, but also because someone found out who she is. I thought you would have been smart and simply ignored the girl." Mycroft shifted his weight, making Sherlock aware he was probably off his diet again. "The two of you on your own have slightly...dangerous lives, yours because you instigate it and hers because of her father. When you add it together it's a disaster."

"John was also kidnapped."

"Yes another person you care about. I see how that's working out for you…take my advice, for once-"

"I think I've taken your advice enough."

Mycroft seemed taken aback, but there was something there in his eyes-pleased. At least some little bit of him was pleased.

"Very well then, I'll leave you to her."

And that was that.

Her heart hurt. It was a heavy ache that made her entire chest feel like it was collapsing. She was biting her tongue to avoid falling into deep sobs. Deep sobbing wouldn't solve anything and it would most certainly hurt considering all of her injuries. Mycroft was kind enough to inform her on the attack on New York, he didn't say it directly but she knew members of SHIELD had died. He wouldn't tell her who, and that was concerning.

Maddie was at that place where emotionally she didn't think she could take another thing, but at the same time was starting to shut down. Sherlock walked in when she wanted to be interrogated the least. He looked as handsome as always, and all she could think about was how he had not only seen her scars, her new injuries, but had seen it all while she was nude with the exception of the puppy panties. She wasn't sure if she should just laugh in defeat or cry. She really didn't feel up to doing either.

"How are you feeling?"

John must have told him to go easy on her. She would rather have it like a band-aid, rip it off. She looked down to her hands in her lap, one had an IV, both were bruised. Apparently in the torment, or maybe in trying to get out of her shackles she had tore her thumbnail off. Completely. It was bandaged, but she knew what had happened to it. After John had left her and the doctors surrounded her she was given a run down of her injuries. She didn't need a run down to know it had hurt.

"I've had worse."

It was true, she did have worse. Last time she was raped. Although this time there was the lingering fear that Connor was still out there with a criminal mastermind, so emotionally this time around it worse she figured.

"Doesn't make it any easier." He told her softly. She looked up to see him dropping into the chair next to her bed. He looked tired.

"No, it doesn't."

And then the silence, had it not been for the unasked question hanging in the air it would have been a comfortable silence. She watched him, and he watched her now-his eyes ran across every bruise or bandage he could see while hers just watched him, his jaw clenched and unclenched, his eyes had dark circles under them, he looked a little gaunt.

Finally, he spoke.

"Why?"

It wasn't angry, nor was it as intense as she had been expecting. It was just a soft question, and that made it harder. At least if he was angry or intense, she could lash back with her own emotions. His softness kept her own emotions just simmering. Was this John's doing, a warning to Sherlock about going easy on her? Or was Sherlock doing this of his own accord? She couldn't be sure.

"Why what? Why did I pretend not to really be me or why did Jim decided to involve me in your game?"

"Both."

Maddie sighed, she wanted to go back to bed-but at the same time the idea of voluntary sleep was scary. She wondered if this would mean she would have to go back on her sleeping meds, her anxiety meds, just when she was really feeling good about everything too…

"I didn't exactly lie about myself. I just...omitted, which yeah is lying-but...I just, wanted to be someone other than the preachers daughter, other than Iron Man's daughter. I wanted to leave it all behind and start anew."

She frowned at that, it sounded so silly now. She had been so scared for everyone to find out who she was. It was stupid.

"When I finally started to make a life for me here, a routine, my own world...it was just nice. Yet, I suppose good doesn't last…"

If she had been talking to John, he would have said something about not giving up hope. She was talking to Sherlock though, so he just nodded-there wasn't any false ideology with him. Logically good really didn't last, that was life. You have good months or years, and then bad things happen.

"Why he wanted to spill the beans to you is truly beyond me. I think he might just be a little crazy…" He did look crazy, she wondered how she didn't notice it in the pictures Molly shared of "Jim from IT".

"I suppose he thought we were together and that it would cause strife."

She nodded at that, chewing on the inside of her lip. Her hand was itchy and she was trying to avoid incessantly scratching at where the IV was. It did make sense, he had saw them cuddled up via some really creepy peeping tom style spying and probably assumed that putting her big "lie" out in the open would upset their balance, or whatever. He was crazy. She didn't like dealing with crazy.

"Not that it has."

She quickly glanced over to him at that, he had his thinking look on. Not the 'thinking so hard I don't know if you're in the room' look, but one where he was talk-thinking it out. "I mean to say that I understand why you decided to do it. Going through what you went through, and then having a father who...well is very famous I'm sure is hard."

Her mouth went dry. Don't cry just because he's being nice to you. Sherlock by default wasn't always nice and she was waiting for the statement that would make her roll her eyes.

It didn't come.

Instead he touched her hand, the one with the bandage on her thumb, without the IV. His fingers moved over the back of her knuckles. Her heart was hurting again. His fingers were cold on her hand, but it felt nice. She wanted to cry. Wanted to curl up into him and just sob for all she was worth. It wasn't something she was accustomed to. It took her years before she felt like she could do that with her Dad or even sometimes Pepper-but here she was with Sherlock.

She was very fond of him, but what did that even mean?

Even though she was trying not to, big fat tears were dropping down her face. She moved her hand to where her fingers were lacing through his. It felt nice. Simple in her ever growing complex world.

"You have the hands of a pianist."

"You found videos of me playing didn't you?" It didn't take a genius to figure that one out.

"You are quite talented."

"Natural I suppose, music came easy to me-just like languages. Most things do, but I like to focus on those areas."

"Not engineering?"

"My Dad tried his hardest to get me interested in it. I learned some, considering you know who I am now, who my Dad is I won't lie, I'm smart enough to figure it out. Building robots and computers and all of that...but it just doesn't interest me." She gave a sigh, she was starting to get tired, but was trying to fight against it.

"Math."

"Excuse me?"

"My mother, she's very smart with mathematics-I just could never see the point...always so boring...at least when you're reading it out of a textbook."

She blinked, it was odd-they had talked, a lot before, but usually superficial-now here he was telling her about his mother? Who up until that point had never been mentioned before. It was very confusing. Was he just being overly nice because of warnings passed onto him about her well-being? Was he being like this because he knew who she was now, no secret hanging in the air?

"Sherlock?"

He made a noise, looking up at her (he had been overly focused on looking at their hands together).

"Why are you being so...kind?" Perhaps a rude question to ask, but honestly she didn't want to sit and go over a hundred different reasons for it in her tired head.

"I really don't know. I've been waiting for days for you to wake up so that I could ask you questions...yet now that you're awake I'm just...happy."

She nodded, "That makes sense, if it were John you'd probably feel the same way."

"Perhaps."

And then they were quiet, she tried to turn off her brain-she didn't want to think. She just wanted to zone out and pretend like a bandage on her back wasn't itching horribly. Wanted to pretend like she wasn't hurt again. She wondered when she'd break. She was feeling fine then, with Sherlock holding her hand, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold it together forever.

His hand felt nice.

"I hope I'm not interrupting something. Actually, I kind of do."

Her heart felt like it did a backflip and then landed on cement. Her head snapped up, her hand gripped tighter on Sherlock's. She had been so engrossed with her 'not thinking' that she didn't even hear someone slip in.

He looked worse for wear too, his eyes were looking over her taking in every wound he could see. The heartbreak was written on his face. Sherlock had sat to attention but didn't stand up, he didn't let go of her hand but that may have been because she was gripping him so hard.

Standing at the foot of her hospital bed the man wasn't dressed to impress, yet still managed to be an imposing figure. It was mostly due to the circular blue illumination that shone through the black fabric of his shirt.

It was quiet, no one was saying anything. They were all just looking at each other. She hadn't seen him for months, but the pain in her heart was growing even bigger than it had been. Oh how she had missed him.

He moved around the bed, to the side opposite of Sherlock. The moment his hand reached to touch her hair was the moment she broke. At least a little bit, she made a noise that didn't even sound human, a sob that wasn't a sob since sobbing would hurt her side even with the painkillers. Her hand gently broke away from Sherlock's.

"Dad." She breathed out, reaching for him. And he reached back, in an instant everything that had happened really was real. From the attack he just fought against in New York to her torture. It was real. It was sad. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, she felt the cold metal in his chest against hers, his hand on the back of her head holding her close.

"We gotta stop meeting like this kiddo."

End Notes:

While I am trying so very hard to keep Sherlock in character, this chapter really was his breaking point. We're not going to see him suddenly in love, we're not going to see him and Maddie date anytime soon, but there is a fondness...one that he is accepting.

We're going to start to see more of a crossover between Marvel and Sherlock, it's never going to be so big that it get's in the way of the real story at hand, but we're looking to have some fun with Tony vs. Sherlock.

Hoping to have the next chapter up really soon. Thanks for reading!