Starting the next day and ramping up through the weekend, Tony threw himself back into physical training in earnest. He felt terribly out of shape thanks to his time off, which had started even before the whole heart thing due to simply not having enough hours in the day to fit everything in.
He still drew the line at actual running.
Steve seemed concerned he'd overdo it but Sam was an unexpected ally for his cause and convinced Steve he'd be fine as long as the amount of workout time was reasonable, just like for everyone else. Friday morning he did weights and the rowing machine, Friday afternoon he trained with the others doing self-defense work using various common objects, and Friday evening he spent in his workshop, sadly the least productive part of his day. Friday night he slept like the dead, physically and mentally exhausted.
Saturday and Sunday didn't involve group workouts but there was still no escaping the others. Rather than training, there were conversations about what Vision hadn't found in the documents, meaning they had nothing to convince the U.N. that HYDRA was an immediate threat, and about planning for the missions whenever they finally got the go-ahead to deal with HYDRA. Ground reconnaissance would have been most helpful but wasn't permitted, so aerial reconnaissance and digital information-gathering had to suffice. Tony stayed out of that, mostly, except for repositioning the satellites and providing permission for the others to make use of Friday as needed.
On Monday, they gathered around the conference table mid-morning to meet the newly hired public relations person. She was a somewhat short, unassuming young woman with curly brown hair and a disarming smile complete with dimples. "Good morning, I'm Mel," she practically chirped, and Tony glanced at Natasha with an eyebrow raised. Natasha gave him a cool look in response and indicated with a nod that his attention should be elsewhere.
The girl was still speaking. "I'm Melissa Brooks, that is, but you can call me Mel. Until last month, I served on the public relations team for the Roxxon Oil Corporation Pipeline Division, and I am really excited to be working with and for all of you. I am an admirer of your work." While she professed excitement, her manner had settled into what Tony supposed could be called 'calm and collected', though no one did that look better than Natasha.
"Why did you leave Roxxon?" Sam asked.
Mel's demeanor remained unchanged, but her tone shifted. "I am unable to fully disclose that information due to confidentiality agreements," she said. It sounded rehearsed.
"We spoke in some detail about the situation and her story checks out," Natasha interjected before anyone else could demand details.
Clint shifted the line of questioning. "Why do you want to work for the Avengers?"
Mel hesitated for just a moment. "Honestly? Because you seem to be doing good things and I would dearly love to be on the right side for once."
"Who says there's a 'right' side?" Tony asked wearily. It hadn't escaped his notice that they had, once again, arrayed themselves around the table according to the sides taken in the Accords disagreement.
"As a group, you have saved the world twice. Perhaps the things you do aren't always on the side of the angels, but your actions save lives and that's more than I can say for my last place of employment." She glanced at Natasha, who had stepped aside rather than take a seat at the table. "May I begin?"
Natasha nodded once. "Please."
Mel turned to face the table again. "During the interview process, I was asked to comment upon the coverage of the Avengers by the news media. My full commentary on that subject could take hours, so I'm going to give a very brief overview starting with your debut as a group."
Most of what she had to say about the early days of the Avengers weren't a surprise to Tony, with his extensive experience at being in the limelight, both good and bad. Visibly saving lives tended to generate goodwill, and New York was no exception.
Mel skipped over the takedown of S.H.I.E.L.D. as "outside the immediate scope of concern, though the fall of a trusted institution always has repercussions," in her words.
Her treatment of Ultron focused on the unpredictability of the foreign technology tapped in Ultron's creation as the primary cause of everything that happened afterward. Based on the information available to her, Tony thought it wasn't a bad attempt at a positive spin on the whole situation.
"I cannot overemphasize how important it is to remind the public as a whole and the media in particular how many people are likely to have died without the Avengers' intervention in Sokovia," she said. "This point can and should be made for nearly every event that has occurred since the Avengers were introduced. It is especially vital for the next incident, and I would like to show you a few clips to make my case clearer."
Tony had a good idea which 'incident' she referred to even before the first video played, and he focused on Wanda rather than the screen. She looked unhappy but not upset, probably because she'd seen all of the footage before.
When the samples of news coverage of the accident in Lagos were finished, Mel said, "These reports are representative of all news coverage about the accident, which means they all omit one very basic fact."
She paused for emphasis. "While all the world's fingers were pointing at the Avengers for the supposedly needless bloodshed in Lagos, not one person acknowledged that the death toll would have been far higher if the explosion occurred at ground level."
Tony watched Wanda become still, focused on Mel. He wondered how long she had waited for someone to comment on that very thing.
"That matters, and it should have been part of the coverage. The death of innocents is always to be mourned, but the death toll should have been weighed against what could have happened without Avenger intervention. Similarly, many of the narratives in support of the Accords have been expertly edited to show the outcomes of your participation in the worst possible light. These are things that a publicist can address on your behalf. I don't know why it took you this long to realize you need someone to help set the record straight, but I am honored to be that person," she concluded.
Silence followed her pronouncement and Natasha waved Mel to an open seat at the table while she took the other available chair.
Vision spoke hesitantly. "So your message will primarily focus on how the events could have been worse?"
"Not exactly. I will provide any context that is overlooked, which isn't the same thing. But if the media doesn't change how it talks about you-and I don't expect it to-then yes, my input will frequently involve a 'here's how it could have been worse' analysis along with whatever damage control is necessary."
"What happens when it's only damage control? When something happens that could not have been any worse?" Clint asked cynically.
Mel met his gaze unflinchingly. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but short of the world ending or every one of you going rogue and turning all supervillain on us, I don't know if that will happen."
Tony wasn't sure what prompted Clint's question, but his thoughts went to the Hulk in South Africa incident and he debated whether to mention it. As much as he'd like Bruce to turn up, he didn't think Mel would appreciate having him added to her plate of unruly superheroes.
No one else seemed to know what to say, either. "Thanks for sharing," Sam finally said.
"We appreciate your expertise," Steve agreed solemnly.
"Thank you," Mel said earnestly. "I wanted to meet with all of you today specifically to ask about the current state of the team so I can start responding to the stories about your alleged civil war. Also, Mr. Stark, we will need to address your health. Those reports are mostly sympathetic toward you, but often at the expense of Captain Rogers."
"Call me Tony," he said. "We're happy to fill you in, but you also need to know that there's currently a lawsuit against me, filed by Secretary Ross."
Mel's eyebrows rose and she tapped her pen against the legal pad sitting in front of her. "I'm going to need you to start at the beginning, wherever that may be."
What was scheduled to be an hour-long meeting turned into a four-hour marathon that included a brief break to retrieve lunch from the cafeteria.
Mel scribbled pages upon pages of notes as they talked about what had happened and what else she needed to know to make sense of it all. Tony wasn't going to mention Siberia and apparently Steve felt the same way, because he didn't mention it either. They did, however, talk about the Accords and the efforts to revise them.
"Are the meeting minutes available to the public, or is the subcommittee's work under wraps until it's all approved?" Mel asked between bites.
Everyone looked at Tony, who had his mouth full, of course. He swallowed hurriedly. "The fact that the meetings are happening is public. What's discussed is only known to those who attend."
"So I can't mention any details, got it," she said, drawing in the margin next to that section of notes.
The conversation with the team lasted until nearly two in the afternoon, with Tony staying behind to fill her in on the health stuff. He also gave her the contact information for the lawyers so she could get a statement from them about the lawsuit. He watched her take notes with some interest. "Aren't you a little young to know shorthand?" he asked when she seemed to have run out of questions.
"It's a hell of a lot quicker than writing it all out. Faster, even, than typing it all," she said nonchalantly, rapidly drawing a few symbols in the margin of her latest page. Only then did he notice she was left-handed.
"Which part of our mess are you going to try to tackle first?"
"I haven't decided yet. It's a pretty big mess." She looked back over her notes. "Some of it will depend on if there is any news that requires a response in the next day or two. When are you going to rebrand your relief organization? That will make for an excellent press release."
"I'll let you know. There are a few things that still have to happen."
"Oh, I know what I have to tackle immediately. Y'all need a website, social media presence, the whole nine yards, like we mentioned earlier during, what, hour two? Do I have permission to contract that out?"
"Check with HR. We might already have someone around with expertise. If not, do whatever you need to do."
"Awesome. And one more thing: don't agree to any interviews I don't know about. Requests should come through me. Please."
"I'm not that bad at interviews," he protested.
"You do your job and I'll do mine," she said neutrally. She had no more immediate questions after that so she gathered her notes, shook his hand, and left to get some work done before the afternoon was over.
Tony groaned when he stood and stretched, his body protesting his intensified workouts in combination with the hours of sitting in a chair. He had two options at this point: join some of his teammates in the workout room and endeavor to work out a few of the kinks before dinner, or head down to the workshop and tinker.
Working out a few kinks seemed like the better idea. He thought he'd do something low key, perhaps put in a little time on a treadmill, but Clint, Natasha, and Wanda were using the treadmills for sprints. He took the rowing machine instead and settled into a comfortable rhythm. For once he wasn't trying to beat his own best time; the temptation was there to try to match the intensity of his teammates but when he sped up the pace, his back reminded him that he'd been overdoing it.
During a break in the running, Clint dared him to try it, but that was a challenge Tony had no trouble declining. "I'm good, thanks," he said without pausing.
The three of them left shortly thereafter, headed for the mats in the training room for some tumbling (Natasha's idea), and Tony was left to row in peace. He meditated on Rhodey and the suits and what else he should design into his suit and whether continuing his fruitless efforts on a method to scan his heart would be worth the time. He'd surpassed the existing technology but he had his doubts whether he'd manage to achieve what he wanted. Then again, why was it so difficult to go that next step? What was he missing?
The rowing machine didn't have the answer and neither did he. He decided this must be what everyone else felt like when looking at his designs: frustrated and confused.
It troubled him enough that he went down to the workshop rather than up to dinner when he was finished in hopes that staring at the schematics would help.
His frustrated rumination was disrupted by Rhodey, who rolled in and unceremoniously dropped a cafeteria tray on the table with a clatter. "You're welcome," he said sarcastically.
Tony looked at him, then at the food-like substance on the plate. A casserole of some kind, perhaps. "Thanks?" he ventured.
"Cafeteria food twice in one day is something I don't plan to do again anytime soon. Apparently it was your turn to do dinner?"
"Was not," Tony countered reflexively even as he fought back a spike of panic that he'd truly forgotten.
"You should see your face. No, it wasn't," Rhodey assured him. "Cooper and Lila wanted to go to the 'magic room full of food', so we all tagged along. I tried to call down but I guess you didn't get the message. Lila missed you."
"Sorry," he said with a wince.
"It's all right, I could've come down to get you but I decided not to. I thought you needed some space for a little while."
Tony heaved a sigh and squared his shoulders briefly before letting them return to a slump. "You're not wrong," he admitted.
Rhodey regarded him silently for a moment. "Are you okay?"
Tony gestured dismissively. "Peachy. I just need to figure out where I've gone wrong on that scanner." He leaned closer to the pasta-and-sauce substance on the plate. "What is it?"
"Dinner. Eat up," Rhodey said a little too cheerfully.
He grimaced and stabbed what seemed to be a shell-shaped noodle with the fork. Rhodey didn't leave until he'd eaten half of it, at which point he still wasn't sure what it was.
He abandoned his "dinner" and went back to the schematic. He stared at it for far longer than was useful, then relegated it to his mental back burner and returned to tweaking his suit with the assumption that it would not include the monitoring system. With that settled, and the arc reactor shielding from Rhodey's suit, he could send the suit into production whenever he liked.
Except . . .
Having it around would tempt him to put it on. It would remind him, perhaps a little too much, of the last time he'd worn the armor. Then again, working on it wasn't sending him into flashbacks, so maybe he was blowing that out of proportion. Wouldn't be the first time.
He switched to his other project and fiddled with it for a while, intently studying the schematics T'Challa provided and a simulation of how his design fit in. Some of the connections weren't quite right, so he tinkered with that and when he looked up again it was past midnight. He shut everything down and went to bed, knowing Friday would tattle on him in the morning if he stayed in the workshop any later and he was at a good enough stopping point.
The night wasn't bad but neither was it good, full of strange dreams and odd periods of wakefulness. No nightmares, though, so it could have been worse.
Rhodey was in charge of breakfast, and Tony accidentally-on-purpose nudged him with a shoulder on his way to the coffee supplies. "Don't play with me or you'll find your breakfast mysteriously burnt," Rhodey said. "I know you hate that."
"I sure do," Tony agreed, putting the water on to boil.
"Hurry it up, boys, some of us have work to do," Natasha said as she passed between them, slid a mug into the Keurig, then slotted in her desired beverage and started it brewing.
"Got a big date at eight a.m.?" Tony teased.
She picked up her full mug and smirked at him over the rim. "I'm interviewing PA candidates today. If they can manage to look better than me, it's bonus points."
"That's a pretty high bar," Rhodey said doubtfully.
"That is exactly the plan." She reached around him to take a slice of canteloupe off a plate. "Are you ready yet, or should I find something else to eat?"
"Wait just a second," Rhodey said. A timer started beeping. "There we go." He went over to the oven and pulled out a pan. "Now we're ready."
"Are those caramel rolls?" Natasha asked, leaning over the pan for a good sniff. "Oh, I love you."
"'Can be manipulated with gooey baked goods'. We should add that to your file," Tony said, finally taking a sip of his lovely, lovely coffee.
"As long as 'Will do anything for coffee' is somewhere in yours," Natasha said, unashamedly scooping out a large roll onto her plate next to the fruit and sausage.
"What, you didn't include that in your personality evaluation?" Tony leaned back against the counter next to the sink, staying safely out of the way.
"In my defense, you were drinking a lot of non-coffee substances at the time."
Tony thought about it a minute. "Yeah, that's true. There's not much time for coffee when you're drinking ungodly amounts of that green sludge."
"What was in that, anyway?" Rhodey asked as he loaded up his own plate.
Tony shrugged. "Limes, something green . . . I don't remember. Jarvis came up with it and the bots could manage to make it, so I wasn't really involved."
"Would Vision remember, do you think? Since part of him is Jarvis and everything."
"He doesn't seem to directly remember things that Jarvis would know, though I haven't tested him comprehensively." Tony smirked. "I hope to God he doesn't remember some things, because that's more than I want anyone else to know."
A statement like that couldn't be left without comment. Rhodey and Natasha began speculating on what sorts of things Jarvis would've witnessed that Tony wouldn't want to get out. Sam and Clint joined in while Laura looked exasperated with the increasingly wild guesses and Wanda just looked confused. Vision was nowhere to be seen, which was either fortunate or unfortunate depending on the point of view.
Steve arrived just in time for Clint to suggest that Tony had been involved in mass orgies. "Why do you think people liked my parties so much?" Tony shot back just as he heard Lila asking a horrified Laura, "Mama, what's an orgies?" He hadn't even realized the kids were in the room.
Clint was about to retort when Steve broke in, "I think we should have a team practice this morning. Natasha excepted, of course."
Natasha nodded to Steve on her way out the door.
"I guess this means we're down to business," Clint grumbled.
"Just for the record, at least half of the stuff you guessed I've already done. The tabloids don't always need to exaggerate, you know," Tony said with a wink and a grin.
"It's been awhile since we've sparred," Steve continued, undeterred.
"Rhodey, how much of that did you already know about? And why haven't you shared with the class?" Clint demanded.
"I can only think of a couple of things that would fit," Rhodey said. "You have to remember I didn't know him until MIT."
"I was a precocious child," Tony added. "In more ways than one."
"That's quite enough," Steve said sternly.
"Are you going to give us detention?"
"Sometimes I wish I could."
"You could always go the corporal punishment route and dole out spankings," Tony said, only just managing to keep a straight face.
Rhodey tried to give him a forbidding glare but spoiled the look when he had to smother his grin.
Steve sighed and looked down at his plate. "Are we really doing this?" he asked, sounding forlorn.
"I think there are a lot of people out there who wouldn't mind being spanked by Captain America," Sam commented.
"But the important question is, are any of them in this room?" Tony asked.
Clint raised his hand, looking around the table for anyone else to take the bait. No one did.
Steve shook his head, at a loss for words.
"Boys," Laura said in warning, giving her husband a significant glare before casting her disapproval around the table. "You're behaving like middle schoolers this morning. It's not a good look."
Tony had been scolded by Laura once before and didn't care to repeat the experience, so he said nothing. Sam and Rhodey also remained silent. "Sorry," Clint said contritely.
Laura wasn't satisfied. "And the rest of you?"
"Sorry," Rhodey said, which Tony echoed.
"Play nice," Laura warned, then left the room with Nathaniel on her hip and Cooper and Lila following close behind her. Tony heard Lila asking why Mama was scolding Daddy and Uncle Tony before the door closed behind them.
Steve resumed his attempt to tell them the agenda for the morning. Clint wasn't keen on the idea of sparring without having Natasha as his partner, but Steve was adamant. "We've all seen each other fight at some point, but things have changed. We need to know the current capabilities of each team member if we're going to be going on missions regularly."
Tony followed everyone from the room to go and change. He had reservations about participating for several reasons but especially because he didn't have a suit and his suits weren't designed for hand-to-hand combat. With how many times he'd ended up fighting hand-to-hand in a suit, though, he should try to do something about that.
In the meantime, he'd show up because he no longer had a medical excuse. Team player and all that.