For the better part of two days, Tony struggled with flulike side effects of the contrast used for his procedure. He mostly alternated between sleeping and feeling sorry for himself, with occasional visits from the others. Laura visited once to bring him a drawing from Lila. It was a bunch of stick figures, the tallest of which had a triangle on its head, and there was something brown and furry-looking. It took him longer than it should have to recognize the characters from their most recent chapter of The Hobbit.
Pepper remained with him the majority of the time even though he knew her workload at home was formidable and growing exponentially with each additional day. Anytime he tried to bring that up and subtly let her know it was all right if she left, she refused to talk about it.
As the symptoms faded, he was again confronted with the empty expanse of days stretching out before him. Under ordinary circumstances, he would relish the time to putter in his lab and do only what he wanted to do. Now, though, his projects came with ghosts and he wasn't sure how to perform the exorcism.
Finally on Sunday he was sufficiently recovered to the point that the prospect of getting dressed and going down to sit with everyone else didn't make him cower beneath the covers. His appetite still wasn't great and the first whiff of lunch made his stomach lurch, but the aches and dizziness were mostly gone, which was a major improvement.
After the initial round of 'hey Tony, it's good to see you', the other Avengers mostly returned to whatever they had been discussing when he'd entered the room. He opted to lounge on a couch near them rather than join them at the table and decided not to ask what they were talking about. It would be far more interesting to try to figure it out.
"There has to be something we can do," Sam said.
"He will retaliate," Natasha insisted. "We all know that. If there's anything we can do, it has to be covert."
"Wouldn't it simply be easier to wait until he no longer holds this position?" Vision asked.
Ross. Of course.
"He has influence separate from his position, and now with the lawsuit-"
"Ross finally filed his lawsuit?" Tony asked, sitting up. Scratch that, for this he needed to be at the table. He pulled out the empty chair next to Steve, who looked troubled. "Spill."
"Secretary Ross paid us a visit yesterday afternoon," Vision said. "He said he'd hoped to see you and ask if your condition has changed your perspective."
"We told him he'd be dealing with us," Natasha added. "He said in that case, you and your lawyers could look forward to having new problems, specifically his promised lawsuit, to deal with on Monday."
"He didn't provide any details?" Tony asked, pulling his phone and checking if his lawyers had tried to reach him. They hadn't.
"No," Sam said. "I think he's blowing smoke up our asses."
"Probably," Tony agreed. "He's been threatening this for a while."
"He is the one who should be put in check," Wanda said, her eyes flaring red.
"You're not wrong," Tony said. "Nat, where are we with hiring a P.R. person?"
"Collecting candidates and running security checks. We'll have a shortlist for interviews by the end of the week."
"Splendid." He sat back in his chair. "I've had a few ideas of how to make his life hell but didn't want to piss him off while some of you were still in his clutches. When we have someone who can deal with the media and make us look even better, it'll be that much easier."
Most of them looked at him blankly. "What did you have in mind?" Steve asked.
"Well, if he comes through with his lawsuit, I don't imagine headlines of 'Secretary of State files frivolous suit against Iron Man' will make him look too good. Releasing the audio of our meetings could raise some eyebrows over his conduct. I'd really like to take out his floating ocean pokey, but legally we don't have a leg to stand on there."
"That wouldn't matter if they couldn't connect it to us," Clint said.
"Because there are so many people in the world who both know where it is and have the means to sabotage it," Tony said sarcastically.
"Would your scramblers work again?" Steve asked.
"Unless they've found and removed them, yeah."
Steve looked thoughtful. Tony raised his hands in surrender. "As you already know, you have access to all of my files on Ross and related matters. If you're going to plan something, leave me out of it. Plausible deniability and all that, especially if there's really a lawsuit. Plus Dr. Mann would kill me."
Natasha gave him a calculating look and Tony winked. She changed the subject to their training schedule for the week, and Tony wandered back to the sofa since that didn't pertain to him.
Tony dozed off to the cadence of their conversation. He thought he heard his name a couple of times, but it wasn't sufficient to force him to wakefulness.
He was roused by the smell of food, which was not a wholly pleasant experience, and found that he'd been moved so his head was resting in Pepper's lap, which was a wholly pleasant experience. He shifted onto his back so he could see her face and she moved her hand to his chest.
"I'll need to go back tomorrow," she said quietly.
"I know."
"How can we make this work?"
He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "I don't know. One day at a time?"
Pepper smiled tightly and motioned for him to sit up. When he did, she leaned over and kissed him. He returned the kiss, one hand cupping her nape.
They were noticed, and there was some catcalling from the other Avengers (read: Clint), which Tony answered with a middle finger waved in that direction.
Pepper broke the kiss and rested her forehead against Tony's. "We can give this another try, but there have to be some guidelines." She sat back and glanced at the others, most of whom were pretending they weren't watching. "We'll discuss that later."
Tony nodded. "Square deal." He turned around to stare back at Clint. "Can you be helped?"
"I'm only wondering if we should clear the room for a minute," Clint said cheekily.
"Just a minute? I'm hurt that you think so little of me."
"I'm only being realistic."
"You calling a minute 'realistic' tells me things I did not want to know about you and Mrs. Barton," Tony retorted.
Clint shrugged, looking smug. "I can't seem to miss."
"Now, that? That is straying into territory that I am not going to touch. There are children present, and even though they are yours, I have standards."
"Boys, behave," Natasha said chidingly.
"Are you going to eat?" Pepper asked him as she rose from the couch.
"I'd rather not."
"Will you sit with us, at least?"
"I can try."
"Tony, come on, we've got you covered," Rhodey called from the table.
He sat between Rhodey and Pepper and while everyone else had some sort of baked chicken thing, he had chicken soup and a mug of tea. "What is this?" he'd demanded when the mug was set before him.
"Ginger and mint. Helps to settle the stomach," Wanda told him.
And it helped some, perhaps, so he didn't protest about being given tea, of all things. Coffee was definitely more his style (though not his stomach's, at the moment).
After dinner, he and Pepper continued the discussion about how to make things work between them. What Pepper was asking for was reasonable: he had to do his part to initiate contact between them, rather than waiting for her to reach out. This included him traveling west sometimes, instead of relying on her to come to New York all the time. Granted, she did so fairly regularly on Stark Industries business, but even so.
The issue of Iron Man didn't come up and he wasn't about to ask. For the immediate future, it didn't matter anyway, though he truly did intend to go back to it. Not doing so was inconceivable despite his current hangups.
It ended well, with Tony giving Pepper some needed attention-just because he couldn't get it up didn't mean he couldn't do other things for her-and curling around her in bed afterward. She fell asleep long before he did; he spent the time watching her sleep, partly afraid it would be the last time he'd do so for a while, if ever. They may be on good terms at the moment, but there was always something. He knew full well he was a handful.
Pepper departed right after breakfast, and her absence was a gaping void he could almost physically feel. Perhaps distraction would help.
He headed to his workshop, but he had difficulty focusing the way he needed to. His phone rang and saved him some frustration. "Bill! What can I do for you, my man?"
Ross had filed his lawsuit, it seemed, but Bill and Tony's cadre of lawyers were confident they could get it dismissed.
Tony thanked him for the update, then hung up and stared thoughtfully at his phone. He added the phone call transcript to the Ross files with a note: Food for thought: Why would Ross file a lawsuit he had to know wouldn't succeed?
He also sent a brief message to Vision, Sam, and Natasha to alert them that the lawsuit was a thing. Maybe they would have ideas about the ultimate purpose of this ploy.
Tony turned back to Rhodey's suit designs with new resolve. One of them needed to have working armor, and for now it couldn't be him.
.
He was tinkering with the arc reactor shielding when Steve brought down his lunch.
"I merit delivery?" Tony asked, surprised.
Steve shrugged. "Friday said you were absorbed in your work and this seemed the easiest way to make sure you ate something."
"So you're going to stay and watch me like a hawk until you've seen me eat?"
"Eating regularly is one of the requirements from your doctor," Steve reminded him.
"Sometimes I wonder why I allow you people to be around, if all you're going to do is bother me," Tony grumbled half-heartedly. That they were still watching out for him even though it had been almost two weeks since the original incident was a bit of a surprise; time would tell if that would continue.
He humored Steve and ate his tuna fish sandwich.
"We start training at two and Natasha expects you to be present."
"I'm pretty sure that's not on my list of allowed activities," Tony said smugly.
"She said you'd say that. 'Accommodations will be made' is her answer."
Tony humphed irritably.
"If you really think we can be a team again, you're going to have to do your part to participate," Steve pointed out. "Prove that you trust us not to force you past your boundaries."
Tony was silent for a long moment. Steve had him there and he knew it. Finally, he said, "I have work to finish if I'm going to be part of your little workout."
Steve nodded once and left the room.
Tony grumbled some more about meddling teammates, but told Friday to remind him to change at a quarter to two.
.
They started in the workout room for warm ups and some circuit training; he and Rhodey had their own set of lower-impact exercises while the others rotated through free weights, squats, jump rope, and the like. He hadn't trained regularly with the team since before Ultron but the routine still felt familiar.
After that was the jog to the training room (a slow stroll for Tony and Rhodey) and the work on various techniques. Some of the time was spent fighting with staffs, during which Tony helped Rhodey with his physical therapy exercises. Then Wanda practiced lofting other members of the team to a platform two stories off the ground; there was a climbing rope and handholds on the wall for climbing back down.
Tony watched speculatively as Steve, Sam, Clint, and Natasha in turn were deposited on high, then he stepped forward. "I'll give it a go."
"Are you sure you can get yourself back down again?" Steve asked.
He scoffed. "I'm not completely helpless without the suit."
"I can retrieve him if necessary," Wanda added. "It would be good to practice catching other people."
"You'll have to practice that another time," Tony said. "Do I need to brace myself?"
"No," she said, and he was airborne.
It was strange to feel the air on his skin while aboveground; normally he was encased in metal when he flew. Wanda dropped him neatly on the platform and he turned and waved at everyone before grabbing the rope and using only his arms to lower himself to the floor. His hands were burning by the time he reached the bottom and disused muscles were aching in a 'why haven't we done this sooner' way. It felt fantastic.
"I'm not sure that could be considered 'light weight lifting'," Natasha commented after he landed.
"Compared to what I usually lift it is," Tony said. "And I wasn't lifting, I was lowering. That uses different muscles, you know." He turned to Wanda. "When I have working armor, we should try some things with momentum and such, if that's cool with you."
"All right," she said.
After that each of them spent some time individually working with props in the room. Tony didn't pay attention to most of them, instead watching Steve and noticing how at a loss he seemed without the shield. Not that he was going to call him on it in front of everyone.
The training time was unofficially over after two and a half hours as some team members went away to shower and change before dinner. Tonight's dinner was Chinese take-out (Tony's treat) and the jumble of containers would be ready for pickup at five.
Cooper and Lila were excited to go on an outing to retrieve the food-with Laura, of course, and Auntie Nat was coming along too; Tony had arranged that with Laura's permission to help make up for his recurring absences lately. Lila also negotiated him up to two chapters per day until they made up for lost time or the book was finished, whichever came first.
Tony didn't need to shower but he did change before checking on Rhodey, who did not need any assistance, thank you very much. They were the first to get back to the common area, so Tony began to set out plates, silverware, and the like. When Sam and Clint, who had Nathaniel clinging to his side, arrived, they took over that task, assuring him they had it handled and he could just take it easy.
That had been happening ever since his little incident and it was really starting to chafe. Did they think he was incapable of pulling his weight? Or did they just think he was inept? It's not like getting out plates was difficult or particularly taxing.
He flopped into an armchair with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Then he realized he could have at least offered to divert Nathaniel for a while; perhaps they had a point about his (in)ability to be helpful. Thinking about watching the kids made him think of something else, and he sent a message to Nat before he could forget.
When the food arrived he confined himself to what should be safe-egg drop soup, a spring roll, rice, and some beef with broccoli-and hoped for the best where his stomach was concerned. He was interested in eating, which was a big improvement, but he suspected trying to eat anything spicy would have unpleasant consequences.
Lila found him as soon as she was done eating and solemnly asked him to meet her at the sofa when he was finished, which he was, so he went with her to read.
By the time the two chapters were read, the food had been put away and all the dishes cleaned up and his teammates were once again conferring in their groups about their designated areas of responsibility. He migrated over to the Accords group, since the deadline for everyone to read it was earlier that day and he hadn't looked at the shared file to see what comments resulted.
For the most part, everyone considered the edited version vastly superior to the original, though there were quibbles about terminology and processes. T'Challa had some useful comments about how members of the panel were selected, while Sam pointed out that the definition of enhanced individuals needed to be made more specific or else a number of the world's military forces could fall under the purview of the U.N. panel.
Tony remained silent unless directly asked a question in order to hear what the others had to say. He'd been living and breathing these issues so long it was interesting to hear another perspective.
They were able to review most of the Avengers' comments before it got late and Rhodey declared he was "too tired to deal with bureaucratic shit anymore." Wanda looked relieved when Steve agreed it was time to adjourn for the night.
Tony followed the others in heading for their rooms and was startled when Natasha fell into step next to him. He'd thought everyone else had gone to bed already.
"Yes?" he ventured when she didn't speak.
"You said you wanted to ask me something about Clint," she said simply.
At first he couldn't remember what or why. "Um, yes. Oh! Right. Have Clint and Mrs. Barton had any time to themselves since he came back?"
"Like after the kids go to bed?"
"That doesn't count. I'm thinking completely kid-free, adults-only time. Have they had any?"
Natasha had to think about that. "No, I don't think so. Why?"
"We should suggest they have a date night. Pep and I used to do that. We can offer to babysit."
She gave him a look that he didn't know how to interpret. "That's . . . sweet of you, Tony. Are you sure you're prepared to babysit? You're supposed to be taking it easy."
Tony shrugged. "If the others wouldn't mind lending a hand, we would have like two adults for each kid. That doesn't sound so bad."
Natasha smirked. "You'd be surprised."
"Are you in for the babysitting?"
"Sure. Could be fun."
They stopped outside his bedroom door. "Spread the word, will you? But don't tell the Bartons yet."
Natasha gave a brief nod. "Good night."
"Good night."
That turned out to be wishful thinking. For the first several hours, he was out like a light, but then the dreams started and turned dark and he woke to a racing heart and panting breaths. Despite past experience telling him it might be a bad idea, Tony tried to go back to sleep again after that.
It was a bad idea this time, too. The nightmares turned into flashbacks which turned into an amalgamation of wormhole and Siberia and visions of dead teammates that was utterly terrifying. He woke up in a cold sweat, hardly able to breathe, his heart pounding like it was going to leap from his chest.
The lights turned on automatically as he stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. Cold, so cold. He climbed into the shower and turned the water on as hot as he could stand. As the spray began to soak his clothes and warm his face, he slid down the wall and huddled on the floor.
He had no idea how long he stayed under the water and he might have stayed a while longer had Friday not said hesitantly, "Boss? Wanda Maximoff is at the door."
This startled him out of the post-dream stupor enough to stand and turn off the water. "What? Why?"
"Shall I ask her, boss?"
"Have at it," he said with a dismissive wave, looking down at himself and debating whether to let her in or not and whether to change if he did.
"Boss, her response," Friday said, then played Wanda's voice saying, "I came to offer assistance, if it is welcome."
Tony cast a calculating glance toward the bedroom door. "Tell her to give me a moment." He peeled off his wet clothes, briskly rubbed himself mostly dry, then pulled on a new pair of cotton pants and a t-shirt. "She can come in."
The door opened slowly and Wanda peered around it hesitantly, then closed it behind herself. Her messy hair and rumpled clothing implied she had come straight from bed. "Mr. Stark," she said awkwardly.
"You're in my bedroom at whatever ungodly hour of the morning it is right now. Tony will do just fine."
"Tony," she said, as if testing it out.
He leaned against the footboard of his bed and waited with his arms crossed over his chest for her to explain her presence.
"I felt your terror," she said bluntly, her uncanny eyes fixed on his face.
"Sorry," he said glibly, realizing how often he forgot that she could sense minds. It was a good thing he wasn't big on secrets, since there couldn't really be any with her around.
"I helped put it there, so I thought it right to offer to help take it away."
"How?" he asked suspiciously.
"I can put you to sleep with better thoughts. It will only help for now, but it will help."
"What do you mean you 'helped put it there'?"
She finally looked away, shifting her bare feet in the plush carpet. "When you found the scepter, I infected your mind with fear and you conjured the vision of dead teammates."
You could have saved us. Why didn't you do more?
Vision-Steve's words echoed in his mind and he was shaken to his core. Everything he had done with the team, for the team, since that moment had been a reaction to those words . . .
. . . only for it to turn out to be a neat little bit of mental manipulation. Fury had tried to tell him but he didn't believe it. Wrong again.
"I'm sorry," Wanda whispered.
Tony felt very old and tired. "I don't know what to say," he said finally. "You're admitting you messed with my mind in an attempt to do it again. Why would I believe you? There's nothing stopping you from just doing it anyway."
"If the suggestion is not welcome, I will leave and never mention it again," she said. "You are right, I could simply do it, but you are no longer my enemy. I do not wish to . . . impose."
He regarded her silently for several long minutes. God, she was so young; only a few years older than Spidey, if he remembered her file correctly. So young and so powerful. What was he doing, thinking he merited any sort of consideration whatsoever in such company? He was just a nearly middle-aged man who happened to have lots of money and some nifty tech.
He made up his mind abruptly. "Sure, what the hell. There's nothing to lose here, right?"
"Right," she agreed. "You should get comfortable."
"Friday, turn off the lights when Wanda leaves," he said as he straightened the bedding. He stretched out on his back. "What next?"
"Close your eyes and think of something happy."
He gazed at her a moment longer before deciding to trust her. He closed his eyes and thought of Pepper and flying and joking with Rhodey. After a moment, he could almost feel her in his mind, buoying up his thoughts much like she'd lifted his body earlier that day. Then his consciousness faded and he was lost in dreams.
Wanda did not allow the images to register in her mind as she worked; that small courtesy was the least she could do for this man who by rights should not trust her several times over and yet allowed her in all the same. When she was finished and he was deeply asleep, she left the room and softly closed the door. She could keep her vigil from afar.
.
Tony did not wake again until Friday gently roused him with the reminder about his medication. He almost felt well rested, and he knew Wanda's assistance was to thank. Not only wasn't he immediately thinking about a nap, there were some things that he'd been puzzling over for his secret project that were abruptly quite obvious.
He threw on some clothes and started making notes so he didn't lose it all before he got downstairs. He was debating going straight down to the workshop and risking the ire of Rhodey and everyone else for skipping breakfast when there was a knock at his door.
"Did you sleep well?" Wanda asked anxiously.
"Yes, very well. Thank you," he said sincerely.
A smile lit up her face. She held out a plastic bottle. "I wasn't sure you'd want to get up yet, so I brought this."
It was, of course, a smoothie. "You are too kind," he said as he took it, and almost meant it.
"Will you be coming down?"
"I'm going to do some things in my workshop, I think, now that breakfast is handled."
She nodded. "I will tell the others so they do not worry."
"Yeah, that'd be great." She left, and he finished jotting his notes while absentmindedly sipping the smoothie and heading toward the stairs.