Chapter 15
"Darren!" JC called after Darren who was half way down the driveway. "Darren, stop!"
"Leave me alone," he yelled at her as he kept walking.
"Darren, we're going home, and we're going to talk about this." She had nearly caught up to him now, and had to restrain the urge to simply tackle him to the ground when she reached him.
He stopped and turned on her. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't want to hear any more lies from you. I'm going back to Joyce and Martin. At least they didn't lie to me or treat me like a stupid kid." He turned and started walking again.
"Darren Blythe Wilcox, if you don't turn around and get your ass in that car right now, I will make it my personal mission to make sure those people never get to foster another child again." It was cold, but she knew it would get his attention. He stopped in his tracks, turning back slowly. "I bet it wouldn't be too difficult to convince any number of social workers that they've been using all those kids as free labor. They might even end up in jail for a while."
"You wouldn't. You have no proof."
"Are you willing to bet their livelihood and good names on that?"
He paused for a long moment as he considered her threat. It was a big gamble, but she knew how much they mattered to him. It didn't take long after that for him to stomp back to the car and climb into the back seat. With a relieved sigh she followed after him and started toward home.
"I can't believe you, of all people, would pull something like that. I know I raised you better than that. What do you have to say for yourself, young man?" JC scolded.
"Me? You're the one who's been lying. You always made it sound like dad died like some kind of hero, but you let him go out into that minefield. You let him die, then covered up."
"Okay, you want the truth? Here it is: your father was coward who cared more about trying to save his own life than his squad or his wife. So instead of following my orders to stay put, he went running out into a minefield and got himself killed. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. His death was not my fault," she defended. It was the first time she had ever said that. It wasn't my fault. She scarce believed that she had said it, but she had, and she had honestly meant it. Nine years of torture was all it took to finally realize the truth that so many people had told her, but she wouldn't believe it. Not until he had said it, made her realize that it wasn't her fault. Brennan had chosen to run out there that day, not her. It wasn't her fault.
"It was still your responsibility to stop him. You could have saved him."
""I did everything I could. If I had stopped to save your father, we both might have been killed. Then there would have been no leader, and everyone would have died. I did what was best for the squads."
"Yeah, sure, whatever lets you sleep at night," he said under his breath as he crossed his arms and settled back into the seat. "What about Stark, huh? What about what happened in Japan?"
"Japan was…" She didn't know entirely what to say. "A lot of mistakes were made in Japan. What he did was wrong, but I wasn't without blame either." Lines had been crossed during their time together in Japan, and while her own behavior didn't excuse Tony's, she couldn't help but wonder if things wouldn't have gone differently, if she had been more professional. "Speaking of which, how the hell did you get access to those files?"
"What does it matter?"
"Considering my military records are still classified and the Japan files are on private encrypted servers, it matters. When did you learn how to hack into a computer like that?"
"I never said I did it. I have friends who know their way around tech, and no, I'm not giving you any names."
"Yeah, we'll see about that," she said as she rummaged in her pockets for her phone. She still had friends of her own who would be able to figure out how the files were hacked and where they were hacked from. She checked each pocket twice but couldn't find the damn thing. Then it hit her. "Damn it, my phone fell out at the house. We have to go back."
"Anything to see that pig," Darren muttered.
"Shut it, buddy. I'm just going in and going out. He won't even know that I'm there," she said as she found a good spot to turn around.
Darren mumbled something under his breath, but JC paid him no attention. She was in no mood to put up with anymore of his antics. She had finally found a shred of happiness, and Darren had to remind her that she wasn't allowed. Despite the fact that right now she didn't want to have anything to do with her son, she still had to think of him first. There were plenty of Tony Starks. There was only one Darren. She tried to convince herself of this, but the voice in the back of her head told her this wasn't true. Yes, there was only one Darren, but there was only one Tony, too. She had watched him change from the selfish, egotistical drunkard into someone new, someone who was finally taking responsibility for his actions, and it made her proud to know him and to be his friend. Friend…could she even say they were friends anymore? They had an incredible, once in a lifetime moment, and she walked out on him. The whole night had gone from amazing to crap in a single moment. What else could possibly go wrong?
She tried to put these thoughts past her as she pulled back into the driveway of Tony's mansion. As she unbuckled her seat belt she noticed another car in the driveway that did not belong.
"What is Obadiah doing here?" she thought aloud, recognizing the black vehicle.
"He's a business partner," Darren pointed out dryly. "He's allowed to be here to talk to him."
"Not anymore. Not since…" she trailed off as an idea struck her. Stane had become adamant about taking the company away from Tony, but it was only now that the weapons production was going to stop. But why now? Sure, the company would take a hit in the short term, but they would find something else and start turning up profits again. After all, Stark Industries hadn't always been about making weapons. The only way she could see Stane wanting to take over to prevent a huge loss was if he knew money was coming in from somewhere else. Somewhere like terrorists who had a lot of Stark tech. Sure, some of it was probably stolen and bought off the black market, but no way that much just went missing and no one wonders what happened. Tony, however, would have eventually found out, one way or another. So what did you do when everything you've worked for is jeopardized?
The Ten Rings didn't need to kidnap Tony to make more weapons for them. If Obadiah was supplying them, they didn't need the inventor. Unless, they weren't supposed to take Tony. Nothing about their attack read as a kidnapping, now that she thought back on it. You didn't lob a mortar at someone you wanted alive. They were there to kill him. Killing one American, while potentially symbolic, would have gained them nothing. The only person who would have benefitted from Tony's death was Obadiah. And that man was now alone with Tony.
"Stay down and out of sight," she ordered and grabbed her pistol from the center console that lay next to her old reactor. Tony had let her keep it as a memento. She had meant to throw it away a long time ago but had simply forgotten about it. That and it still had some meaning for her, she had to admit.
"What's the big deal?"
"This is not a discussion. The man in there already ordered one hit on Tony. I would not put it past him to come after you, if you get in his way." She didn't have any proof of it, but her gut told her that it was one of the only logical explanations. "Stay here until either you hear Stane leave or you hear gunshots. Call 911, if the latter happens."
"Fine," he conceded with a huff and lay down on the seat out of sight.
With her gun at the ready, she made her way through front door. She made a cursory glance of the entry way and living room and noted that neither Tony nor Stane were there. The items she had knocked over during her departure were still strewn about the floor, but the papers from the files had been moved. Maybe Tony had looked through them, but why leave them on the floor? Why not pick them up? Stane had to have been through there and wanted to make it look like the files had been untouched. That meant he was either lying in wait or had already made a move.
She moved slowly toward the stairs to listen for anything out of place. Had the door still been in place, Tony would have changed the codes already to keep Stane out. Since there was no door, there was nothing to stop him. She didn't hear voices or any other sounds of distress. There was some sound of movement, but when she heard Tony drop something then curse at it, she assumed that all was well, for the time being. She would still do a check to be sure, but for now she needed to secure the rest of the house. The thought of simply grabbing Tony and leaving had crossed her mind, but until she knew where Stane was and what he may have done to house, she couldn't worry about him yet. For all she knew, he was setting triggered explosives in the house and evacuating Tony would do nothing to protect him; once he came back, he would unknowingly set off the trigger and blow himself up. No, she needed to secure Obadiah first, then get Tony.
Moving forward into the living room she checked around the area where the piano had been. The area wasn't exactly usable, but there was still enough room for a person to hide. As she cleared that area, she jumped when she heard a sudden vibrating noise. Turning back to the front entry where the noise had come from, she saw her phone vibrating on the floor. Moving back to it, she reached it just as it stopped ringing to go to voicemail. The caller I.D. read Pepper Potts. As she was about to hit the redial button a high pitched shrieking noise just barely audible reached her ears.
Her muscles suddenly seized up as her limbs went rigid. She lost her grip on her weapon and phone, both objects clattering to the ground. As her legs started to buckle, strong arms wrapped around her torso and lowered her to the ground. She stared at the ground, unable to turn her head or even move her eyes to see what was happening as her assailant attempted to drag her away.
When he had maneuvered her so that she was on her side staring into the living room, the man grabbed her face and turned her so she could look at him. Anger immediately rushed through her as she saw Obadiah's face, wanting nothing more than to tear him to shreds, but she couldn't. Whatever he had used to paralyze her had worked incredibly well.
"You should have stayed home tonight," Stane said in a low voice as he eyed her. "I would have preferred you lived. Pity," he said as his fingers began to wander. "You really are a beauty underneath that temper."
She felt sick to her stomach. How dare he even think those thoughts aloud. She wished more than anything to take a knife, cut his manhood up into tiny pieces and sauté them before ramming them down his throat. There were so many ways she had wanted to torture him slowly, but she was helpless, helpless to his cruelty. Whatever he had planned for her, she wished he would just get it over with quickly.
Suddenly she heard movement from the basement. Tony must have heard her gun drop and was coming to investigate. She wanted to scream to warn him away, but it was useless. Whatever had paralyzed her limbs had paralyzed her vocal cords as well, her tongue numb in her mouth.
"We'll have to finish this later," Stane said with a sickening smirk as he skulked off into the shadows.
She heard Tony's footsteps as he ascended from the garage. It was too late. They were both going to die now, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Some bodyguard she had turned out to be.
Tony had been trying to finish cleaning up part of the garage as way to keep himself occupied. Throwing himself a pity party wasn't going to accomplish anything, so he had to settle on trying to bring some order back to the garage. As he finished moving some tools around and was about to get a broom to finish cleaning up the glass he had demolished days ago, he heard something clatter upstairs.
His first thought was that maybe it was Pepper finally getting back from the office–she had been long enough as it was–but then realized he should have been able to hear the clacking of her heels as she walked. Then he thought it must have been JC coming back for something, probably her phone. He was beginning to think he should find a way to permanently attach the damn thing to her person to keep her from losing it.
As he made it to the top of the stairs the house phone started ringing. Figuring it had to be Pepper, he moved toward the living room couch to look for the wayward device. Before he could hit the green phone button, he caught sight of something lying in the front entry way. When he really looked at it, his heart practically stopped. JC was lying on the ground, her eyes staring blankly at him like a corpse. Before he could jump up to run to her, a shrieking noise entered his ears causing his muscles to go rigid. In that split second, he knew what had happened.
"Breathe," came Obadiah's voice as he held Tony and slowly lowered him back on the couch.
His grip on the phone went limp as Obadiah grabbed it and tossed it aside. When the high pitched noise finally ceased, Obadiah revealed the device that Tony recognized as one of his own.
"You remember this one don't you?" Obadiah said.
Of course he remembered. Sonic Paralysis was supposed to be used as an interrogation device or any other military purpose that could be thought up. The government had shot it down though. Cruel and unusual punishment, they had called it. He thought all the devices had been destroyed. Stane had obviously kept his little toy for such an occasion.
"It's a shame the government didn't approve. There are so many applications for causing short term paralysis," Stane said as he came around the couch to look Tony in the eye. "When I ordered the hit on you," he said, removing the ear plugs designed to block out the sonic pulse, "I thought I was killing the Golden Goose." He proceeded to remove a device from a small case that bore a remarkable resemblance to the shape of his reactor. "It just so happened," he said as he attached the device to the chest piece through his shirt, "you had one last golden egg to give." With that Stane removed the arc reactor from his chest, but had yet to disengage it from the base plate.
Stane looked at the reactor with lust for a moment before looking back at Tony who was trying to process everything that was happening. His most trusted friend had not only betrayed him but was now going to kill him and JC, too. How had he let it get this far? How could he not have seen this coming? He had suspected Obadiah had a hand in selling his weapons to terrorists, but he hadn't expected this.
"You think just because you have an idea, it belongs to you?" Stane challenged. "Your father, he helped give us the atomic bomb. Now, where would our world be today, if he was as selfish as you?" With that he gave a yank on the device and removed the piece completely from his chest.
Tony stared in horror at his life source hanging in front of him. He knew how long he had before the paralysis would wear off and how long his heart would survive since Pepper had so conveniently pulled out the spare magnet from his chest. This was not good. His mind swam at the thought of what Stane might do with the device, but only one possible answer came to mind. He had built a suit, and he needed the battery.
Obadiah took a moment to sit beside him and marvel at the device. "Ah, Tony, this is your Ninth Symphony, your master piece. The next generation of weapons with this at its heart. It'll put the balance of power in the right hands. Our hands."
Tony writhed on the inside at the thought of Stane using his technology to make more killing machines, better killing machines. What he would have given for just the power to spit in Stane's eye at that moment.
"I wish you could see my prototype," Stane said like a school boy ready to show off his new model airplane. "It's not as conservative as yours," he said and placed the arc reactor neatly in the padded case and shut it. "Too bad you had to go and involve Pepper and your bodyguard. I would have preferred that they both live," he said and stalked over to JC.
He reached down and picked up her pistol that was lying on the ground not far from her body and cocked it back. Stane took a moment to look back at Tony and smile as he pointed the gun at her head. Tony willed his body to move, to do something, anything to stop Stane. He couldn't even twitch his little finger. What was worse, he couldn't even look away. It wasn't the first time he had seen someone shot, but this was different. She was different. As Stane turned his gaze back to JC to take his shot, he paused, his gaze fixed on her back.
"Well," he said appreciatively as he knelt down, setting the gun back on the ground. If he could have, Tony would have breathed a sigh of relief. Stane looked back at Tony. "I knew she had been injured, but you failed to mention her new accessory," he said as he put his hand under JC's shirt. Tony had intentionally not told anyone about JC's reactor in an attempt to protect her. The paparazzi were already clamoring for interviews from her when they got back, but they didn't put much effort into it. Why would they for a civilian when they had Tony Stark to chase? If they knew about the tech she carried, they might have never left her alone. He had also been afraid of making her a target for anyone who wanted to get their hands on Arc reactor technology.
Tony could see the paralysis was starting to wear off as JC was able to manage a small twitch in her hand. It wasn't enough to be able to do anything, but it was progress. He only wished it had been more. It would have been worth it to see JC kick Stane's lecherous ass.
Stane took his time as he slid his hand up JC's back to find her Arc reactor. He heard the click of the reactor being twisted then the electrical zap of the wire being disconnected from the base plate. JC's breath became more ragged with fear as Stane held up the device in victory.
"It's rather fortuitous, really," he said as he forced JC to look up at him. "I would have hated to ruin that pretty face."
Tony wanted to strangle him for violating his friend, his girl like that. His girl? For a brief moment, Tony liked the sound of it, but his thoughts were brought back to the more serious matter at hand. He saw the lust in Stane's eyes, knew he wanted to do so much more to the defenseless woman, but he hurried off. Pepper had apparently rattled his cage more than Tony originally realized.
JC stared at him helplessly, fear etched into her blue eyes. She knew as well as he did that she would not survive long without the reactor. She still had her spare magnet which would hold an extra charge for ten to fifteen minutes, but Tony had no clue how long she had been lying there. By the time the effects had worn off for either of them it would be too late for her. Tony could last at least fifteen minutes without power or the magnet, he figured. JC would barely last two if even that.
Every minute that passed became more agonizing than the last. As the time dragged on, Tony slowly regained limited movement, but it was still not enough to do anything. He watched as JC's mobility improved and silently encouraged her to keep going, to keep fighting what he knew must have felt like a losing battle for her. He watched as she stretched out, reaching for a cell phone that he recognized as hers laying several feet away.
She lunged and crawled, each time moving just a few more inches than the last. He wasn't sure who she would call to help them. There was no telling where Pepper was or if she'd be any help. Even Rhodey would be useless. 911? Still too slow.
Moments later her fingers wrapped around the small device and began to tap the keys, her breath sounding like she had just run ten miles. It had already been over ten minutes. There was no way she could be saved. He had already considered trying to give her the spare that was sitting in a glass case that Pepper had made for him, but his math told him it wouldn't work. It would create too much power and probably overload. And her spare was nowhere to be found. He hated to watch her like this, to watch her die in a slow, excruciating way. He knew that once the magnet gave out, the barbs near her lungs would puncture the thin tissue, and she would drown in her own blood. He didn't want to give up on her like this, not after all she had done for him, but there was nothing left, nothing he could do except watch her gasp for her last breath.
She had the phone on speaker and waited for whoever was on the other end to answer. It rang and rang until it finally went to a generic voicemail message. JC looked about to cry as she grimaced against the pain he was all too aware of.
"Come on," she said barely above a whisper as she tapped the redial button. Once again it started to ring. Just when he thought it might again go to voicemail someone finally picked up on the other end. "Darren!"
AN: Hope you guys are enjoying the story. Don't forget to leave a review! I love hearing what you guys think of the story :)
