By the time Tony finished constructing the prototype, he had a list of half a dozen things he wanted to change for the next version. The housing in particular needed tweaking and possibly a different alloy. But it was perfectly serviceable as a first attempt and building something completely new from scratch was satisfying in a way that almost nothing could match.
He was fine-tuning the control interface on his phone when Friday spoke over his music. "Clint Barton is at the door, boss."
He glanced up and Clint waved at him through the window. "Let him in." As soon as Clint stepped through the door, Tony turned his attention back to his screen and said, "Touch anything and I'm never working on your gear again. What do you want?"
He watched out of the corner of his eye as Clint stared at him with a knowing smirk and reached out toward a monitor, just to be a little shit. He sent the bot straight at Clint's face and grinned when he yelped and ducked, flailing at the small device. "I was just kidding, geez," Clint protested. "What is that thing?"
Tony explained.
"So it's like a drone, with a repulsor."
"Essentially. You like it?"
Clint watched it hover a few feet away, then dip and weave as Tony gestured with the phone. "Is it safe to show the kids? I think they'd love it. That's why I'm here, by the way. Lila was asking about you."
"I can make a kid-friendly version once I've ironed out the kinks. This one could blow up."
Clint backed away a few steps.
"I mean, blowing up is one of its functions. I'd rather have a non-lethal version around the kids."
"I appreciate that. Not blowing up my kids is definitely a good plan."
Tony landed the bot on the table and carefully picked it up to check all of the connections once more. "What time is it, anyway?"
"Uh, after naptime but before dinnertime," Clint said sheepishly.
"Friday?"
"It is four forty-five, boss."
"Well, that didn't take as much time as I would've expected," he commented, sweeping the scraps and odds and ends of the parts he'd salvaged into the bin he'd dumped out hours before. "Good to know I haven't lost my touch."
"Are you coming up, or do I have to go admit defeat?" Clint asked, remaining at a safe distance while he noisily cleaned up.
"I thought Lila was asking about me. Now you're telling me you were sent to fetch me?"
"That's usually what it means when Lila asks about you. But it's fine to say no. She has to learn how to deal with disappointment sometime."
"I think I'll let you be the one to teach her that," Tony replied with a wink. "It's fine, I'm coming."
He expected that Lila wanted him to read to her again-it had been days since the last time-so he was surprised when they arrived in the common room and Lila, Cooper, and Laura were sitting on the floor, playing a card game. Wanda was minding Nathaniel a short distance away.
"Uncle Tony! Mama taught us a new game. Will you play with us?" Lila said excitedly without moving from her spot, holding her cards awkwardly with both hands.
"Please," Laura reminded her gently.
"Please?" she parroted. "And Daddy, please?"
"I should take a turn watching your brother, honey," Clint said. "Why don't you ask Wanda to play?"
Lila turned her pleading eyes on Wanda. "Please? More people works better."
"I'll play," Tony said to give Wanda time to decide. "Where should I sit?"
"Next to me, Uncle Tony," Lila said, patting an impossibly small section of carpet between her and Cooper.
"We need to make the circle bigger, Lila," Cooper said as he scooted backward to make more room and accidentally kicked over the stack of cards in doing so. "Oops. I'll pick them up, Mama."
"Thank you," Laura said.
"I will play also," Wanda decided.
As they settled on the floor and Laura shuffled and dealt the cards, Cooper leaned over to Tony. "She doesn't always play nice, Uncle Tony," he warned, looking at his sister. "I'm glad I'm not next to her anymore."
"I think I'll be okay," he said, amused.
The game commenced and, though the direction of play could change, Tony came after Lila for the first several turns. After three consecutive turns of having to draw cards rather than playing them, he could see what Cooper meant.
He lost the first round, thanks to all those cards, and didn't fare much better the second round. The third round lasted long enough that Wanda had to concede so she could help make dinner; Wilson was making fried chicken and she wanted to learn. Tony eventually won, despite having to draw what seemed like half the deck over the course of the round. Another round seemed like a bad idea so close to dinner, so Laura had the kids put everything away instead.
Lila returned from picking up with a book in hand, which made Tony chuckle. "I don't think we have enough time for that, little bit," he said as she climbed into his lap. "Why don't you tell me what you've been doing since I saw you last?"
"Yesterday we went to the library and saw Miss Cathy," she said eagerly, then launched into a story about storytime and he listened with interest. He'd had no exposure to that sort of thing as a child, so he had no idea that libraries did that stuff or that kids enjoyed it so much.
Then Lila stopped abruptly and scrambled out of his lap, saying, "I have to go potty." She ran off and Tony got up, not sure if he should follow or tell Laura or Clint or what.
By the time he found Laura, she was already heading in the direction that Lila had gone. Rhodey came in as she left and Tony debated whether he had time to fetch the new bot to show it off before dinner, but then Friday spoke. "Boss, you and Colonel Rhodes have an incoming call from the President of the United States."
"Why would the President be calling you directly?" Clint asked doubtfully.
"I think we're about to find out," Tony said with studied indifference even as he was imagining a whole range of possibilities while moving across the room toward Rhodey. Some of those possibilities involved Ross, but the call involving Rhodey seemed to rule that out. "Where do you want to take it?"
"Conference phone okay?" Rhodey asked, nodding toward the table and its speakerphone.
"Sure, I'll have Friday turn on the sound dampening if it turns out to be something private," he replied loud enough that the others could hear. He slid into a chair and had Friday connect the call while Rhodey also took a seat.
"Good evening, Mr. President," Tony greeted. "To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"
"Good evening, Mr. Stark," President Ellis replied. "Is Colonel Rhodes with you?"
"I'm here, sir," Rhodey answered.
"Good, good," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'm calling to ask a personal favor. You do not have to say yes, but I would appreciate your thoughtful consideration-And I'm getting ahead of myself."
Tony exchanged a glance with Rhodey as the President interrupted himself. The man had never been particularly eloquent, but he was normally capable of following a thought from start to finish.
President Ellis continued. "I don't know if you've been following the news today, but a strong earthquake struck the west coast near the Mexican border this morning. The damage in the area around San Diego is substantial. They've already confirmed more than two dozen people are dead. I just spoke with the President of Mexico and the conditions in Tijuana are worse."
As he spoke, Tony wordlessly had Friday bring up the video feed from a U.S.-based cable news channel on the display. Collapsed buildings, wrecked streets, and people digging through the rubble featured heavily, along with images of fires and one brief clip of a wave sweeping up over a boardwalk and carrying at least four people away.
"Since your organization is now international, we-that is, President Alvarez and I-were hoping you might be able to help with the search and rescue. He is calling the U.N. to officially request your assistance in Mexico, and seeing how I have directly benefited from your exemplary efforts in the past, I wanted to ask unofficially that you, ah, carefully consider that request."
Rhodey spoke first. "We cannot make any promises, Mr. President, but we will certainly discuss it with our team and the U.N. panel."
"That's all I ask, Colonel."
"Under normal circumstances I'd at least consider writing a big fat check, but I'm afraid that's not an option this time," Tony commented dryly.
"Yes, the timing is unfortunate," President Ellis replied. "Thank you, and good luck."
"Thank you sir," Rhodey said smartly, and the line went dead.
Tony turned his back to the images on the display and stared at his folded hands, thinking of Ross and all the times he'd tried to call in the Avengers for government business.
"What are you thinking?" Rhodey asked in an undertone.
He sighed and looked up, searching Rhodey's expression for a hint of his opinion. "As much as I would like to help, natural disaster relief isn't part of the Avengers mission and it's not a precedent we want to set."
"Agreed. If we help with this earthquake in an official capacity, we'd have a hard time saying no to the next one."
"To say nothing of the hurricanes, or the blizzards, or whatever else."
Rhodey pushed back his chair and stood. "Let's see what everyone else thinks."
Everyone else had, of course, been listening in on the entire conversation. Someone had turned on the TV, so a low murmur of the latest casualty figures served as the backdrop while they gathered around the dinner table. Tony had Friday shut it off so they could eat in peace.
"You're all taking food before we talk about this," Sam ordered as he set down the platter of chicken.
Once the food was passed around, no one seemed to want to be the first to bring up the elephant in the room. Cooper seemed to understand that something was going on, but Lila chattered happily about whatever came into her mind.
When the kids were finished, Clint said, "I agree with Nat about the earthquake thing. C'mon kids, it's bath time." With those parting words of wisdom, he and Laura herded the protesting children out of the room.
Tony looked down the table at Natasha. "So what's the super-spy opinion?"
"We can't do it," she said firmly. "The Avengers exist to respond to superhuman and extraterrestrial threats. An earthquake is neither."
"Yes, but it feels wrong not to do something," Rogers said.
Tony privately agreed. "Let me check with the head of the relief foundation. She can call for volunteers, ship over supplies, that sort of thing," he said.
"Who would be allowed to volunteer?" Vision asked.
He shrugged. "I don't know, who normally volunteers for something like this?"
"Would Avengers personnel be free to volunteer?"
"You mean, like our medical folks, our techs, people like that?"
Vision inclined his head. "Or perhaps members of the team, if they feel strongly about assisting."
"So we could help without 'The Avengers' helping," Sam said.
"A loophole. I like it," Tony said. "I don't know, we'll have to see what the U.N. folks think of that."
"If they allow it, there would be a limit on how many of us could go," Rhodey said.
"We'd have to have some people ready to respond if something happens," Natasha agreed.
"Exactly," Rhodey said with a nod.
"Like homicidal robots," Sam said, grinning.
"Or the aliens finally decide to try again," Tony shot back.
"Will they?" Wanda asked, sounding bewildered.
"Eventually," Tony replied. "But probably not tonight."
"Colonel Rhodes, you have an incoming call from the United Nations," Friday reported.
"Of course I do," Rhodey said.
"Here you go, buddy," Tony said, setting his phone on the table in front of Rhodey.
The conversation started out exactly as Tony would have expected, with the chairman of the panel reporting on the request from the Mexican president and Rhodey providing their rationale for declining. "I am relieved that we agree," the chair said.
"Sir, if I may, we did have a question about volunteering to help as private citizens rather than Avengers," Rhodey interjected before the chair could hang up. "Assuming a portion of the team remains available should an emergency arise, would that be permitted?"
"That is an excellent question, Colonel," came the reply after a stretch of silence. "Let me consult with the panel and notify you of the response."
"Thank you, sir."
"Now we wait," Tony said, standing and stretching before collecting the dirty dishes in his immediate vicinity and taking them over to the sink.
He continued helping clear the table until that was finished, then stepped into the hallway. He could head to the office, but doing so seemed pointless for a conversation that may not last long. He slowly paced the hall as the phone rang.
"Stark Relief Foundation, this is Carmen Castillo Sanchez," came the response just as he thought the call would go to voicemail.
The rebranding must not be official yet. That made things infinitely easier. "Carmen, my dear, it's Tony."
"Yes, Mr. Stark, I am aware," she said. "What is the purpose of this call?"
Formal address meant either she was having a bad day or there were others witnessing her side of the conversation. "Have you heard about the earthquake?"
"Yes, I have heard." Her response was clipped, almost cold.
"Good." He was about to continue, but the way she replied was uncharacteristic and he had a guess as to why. "Do you know someone affected?" he asked instead.
She hesitated just long enough that he knew the answer was yes. "My brother's family and his wife's relatives live in Tijuana."
"Are they safe?"
"I do not know, I have not been able to reach anyone."
"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I'm calling because we want to send help to Mexico. I'm officially giving you permission to do whatever the foundation can afford to do."
"I will activate my team immediately."
"We'll be allowing some of our personnel to volunteer, so I'll have Agent Hill contact your people about what roles would be most useful."
"Only if they can speak Spanish," she replied distractedly over the sound of rapid typing in the background.
"Anything else important?"
"I do not understand."
"Is there anything else you need from our personnel? Or anything else I can try to provide?" When there was silence from her end, he rephrased the question again. "What is the biggest need right now besides search and rescue?"
"A place to put everyone," she said immediately. "The people are out in the streets. Either the buildings have collapsed or they might still collapse so no one goes back inside."
He could picture it, and knew without her saying so that these people would not feel safe indoors for weeks, not while the possibility of aftershocks meant the possibility of more structures failing. With the mental image of buildings crumbling came the memory of Sokovia, of the people fleeing their homes with nowhere to go and nothing but the clothes on their backs.
And he had an idea what to do about it. "Let me see what I can do. Good luck."
"Thank you," she said. It might have been his imagination, but she sounded just a little less tense.
Not a moment later, he was contacting Hill. "I need you to get in touch with the Stark Relief Foundation's volunteer coordinator," he said without preamble. "Put out a call for Spanish-speaking staff who can help meet whatever needs the coordinator specifies. But keep enough people here to maintain readiness. And staff the helicarrier. I want to send it over as temporary housing for people displaced by the earthquake. The foundation should be able to help with supplies."
There was a moment's delay as if Hill was waiting for him to continue. "Right," she said finally. "And I suppose you want all this to happen yesterday?"
"Don't be ridiculous, as soon as humanly possible is fine," he scoffed.
"How generous."
"I do have that reputation," he said airily, finishing his sixth lap of the hallway. "Also, some of us may be volunteering off the record for search and rescue, so we'll be taking a tech or two."
"I'll take that into account. Anything else?"
"Nope, I'm done." He hung up, sent a message to Carmen about the helicarrier, redirected a surveillance satellite over the target area, and headed back to the common room. It was nice to have something he could do to help despite his restricted funds.