After a few hours, once the doctors confirmed that Tony was in stable condition, preparations were made for him to leave the base. Despite their curiosity, the soldiers didn't press him for details about his ordeal, sensing the weight he carried.
Hela, meanwhile, arranged for a private jet to transport them back to New York. She handled the logistics with efficiency, her presence ensuring that no one dared ask unnecessary questions.
When the time came, Tony stood at the edge of the tarmac, his gaze lingering on the horizon. He clutched the Arc Reactor embedded in his chest, a constant reminder of both his survival and his responsibility.
"You ready?" Hela asked, her voice breaking through his thoughts.
Tony turned to her, his trademark smirk faint but present. "Not really. But let's get out of here."
The private jet was a haven of luxury, but the atmosphere inside was far from relaxed. Tony spent most of the flight staring out the window, lost in thought. Hela sat across from him, observing silently as he wrestled with his emotions.
"You know," he said after a long silence, "I've been an idiot."
Hela raised an eyebrow. "Only just realizing that?"
Tony chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Yinsen told me something before he died. He said I needed to do something meaningful with my life. And for the first time, I actually believe him."
Hela tilted her head, intrigued. "What are you planning to do?"
Tony's eyes met hers, a spark of determination igniting in their depths. "I'm going to change everything. No more weapons, no more destruction. Stark Industries is going to build something that actually helps people." Tony declared, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. His gaze was steely, filled with determination born from his harrowing experience in captivity.
Hela raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. "You realize the shareholders won't be happy about this, right? They didn't invest in Stark Industries out of the goodness of their hearts. They invested because weapons make money. A lot of money."
"I don't care," Tony snapped, his voice firm. "I've seen what our weapons do, Hela. I've seen who they end up in the hands of. I won't be responsible for that anymore."
Hela studied him for a moment, then sighed. "You're going to have a fight on your hands, Tony. The board is going to push back hard. The shareholders even harder. They'll argue it's a betrayal of their trust, that it's not what they signed up for."
Tony met her gaze, unflinching. "Let them argue. I'm not changing my mind."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Hela's lips. "Well, you've got one thing going for you."
"What's that?"
"The second-largest investor in Stark Industries will back your decision."
Tony frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Wait, how do you know that?"
Hela's smile widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Because you're looking at her."
For a moment, Tony was speechless. His jaw dropped slightly as he tried to process what she had just said. "You're kidding."
"I never kid about money," Hela replied smoothly, crossing her legs and leaning back with an air of confidence.
Tony leaned forward, staring at her. "You're telling me that you—"
"—am the second-largest investor in Stark Industries? Yes."
"How? When? I didn't know you had that kind of money!"
Hela chuckled. "Tony, you've known me for years, and yet you've never asked about my finances. Let me fill you in on what happened while you were busy getting kidnapped by terrorists."
Tony sat back, gesturing for her to continue.
"When you disappeared, the company's value tanked," Hela began. "The board panicked. Investors started selling off shares like their lives depended on it. Stark Industries was bleeding out, and I wasn't about to let it die. So, I stepped in. Quietly, of course. I bought up every share I could get my hands on."
Tony rubbed his temples, trying to wrap his head around this new revelation. "And no one thought to stop you?"
"Why would they? I followed the rules, played the game. And I won," Hela said, her tone calm but triumphant.
Tony exhaled slowly. "You risked that much on me?"
"I believe in you, Tony," Hela said simply. "I always have. Stark Industries isn't just a weapons manufacturer. It's a symbol of innovation, of genius. It's your legacy. I knew you'd come back, and when you did, you'd need the company intact."
Tony stared at her, a mixture of gratitude and disbelief in his eyes. "Hela, I don't even know what to say."
"Say you'll make this work," Hela replied. "You've got the vision. I've got your back. Together, we'll turn Stark Industries into something the world actually needs."
Tony nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips. "You're something else, you know that?"
"I'll take that as a compliment," Hela said, smirking.
Tony's expression turned serious again. "This isn't going to be easy. The board, the shareholders… they're not just going to roll over."
"Let me handle the board," Hela said firmly. "You focus on what you do best—building something incredible. Something that'll make all of this worth it."
Tony leaned back, a spark of determination reigniting in his eyes. "Alright. Let's do it. Let's make Stark Industries something to be proud of."
Hela smiled, satisfied. "That's the Tony Stark I know."
When the jet landed at a private airstrip in New York City, a small crowd of reporters and Stark Industries employees awaited their arrival. Tony, however, wasn't ready to face them.
"Take me to the tower," he told Hela as they exited the jet.
Hela nodded, escorting him to a waiting car. As they drove through the bustling streets of Manhattan, Tony remained quiet, his mind racing with ideas and plans.
Hela watched him out of the corner of her eye, knowing that whatever he was about to do would send ripples through the world. And for the first time in a long while, she felt genuinely optimistic.
As the car pulled up to Stark Tower, Tony stepped out, his posture straight and his expression set. Hela followed close behind, ready to support him in whatever came next.
"Time to get to work," Tony said, his voice resolute. And with that, they disappeared into the building, ready to shape the future.
Enjoying the warm, familiar ambiance of the Black Hearth restaurant. The establishment buzzed with its usual energy, a comforting hum of laughter, conversation, and the rhythmic clatter of dishes being served. It was a stark contrast to the chaos and danger she had just left behind in Afghanistan.
Hala watched Harry at work behind the counter, his hands moving skillfully as he plated meals with the precision of an artist. His presence exuded a calming warmth, a stark reminder of the stability and love that anchored her tumultuous life.
The staff, delighted by her return, greeted her warmly. Many of them had grown used to her coming and going, each visit sparking curiosity and admiration. Yet they all respected the quiet strength she carried, even if they didn't fully understand the extent of her adventures.
As Harry approached the table, carrying a steaming plate of her favorite dish, he smiled that charming, lopsided smile that made her heart skip a beat. "I was wondering when you'd come back," he said, setting the plate down in front of her.
Hala reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "I missed you," she admitted softly, her voice carrying a mix of relief and affection.
Harry leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I missed you, too. Now eat before it gets cold."
She chuckled and began to eat, savoring the flavors that carried memories of countless nights spent here together. As she did, she told Harry everything that had happened. The rescue, the portal, Tony's dramatic escape in his makeshift suit, and her role in stabilizing Stark Industries.
Harry listened intently, his emerald-green eyes sharp with interest and concern. "You've been busy," he remarked when she finally finished.
"That's putting it mildly," Hala replied, setting her fork down. "But I needed to come back. Talking through the devices wasn't enough. I needed to be here, with you."
He reached across the table, his hand covering hers. "You're always welcome here. You know that."
As the television screen in the Black Hearth restaurant displayed Tony Stark's press conference, the room fell into a hushed silence. Tony's resolute voice echoed, declaring his decision to cease weapon manufacturing at Stark Industries. The announcement sent shockwaves across media outlets and boardrooms worldwide. Clips of reporters bombarding Stark Industries executives with questions and furious shareholders demanding explanations played in quick succession.
Hela sipped her tea with a calm demeanor, watching the chaos unfold. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes locked on the screen as Tony confidently stood his ground against the relentless storm of criticism. Harry, seated across from her, appeared far less intrigued. His focus wavered between the television and the comfort of his meal.
"Well," Hela began, breaking the silence between them, "that's going to upset a lot of people." She set her cup down and smirked. "But it's the right move. Weapons might make a fortune, but they destroy lives. I'm proud of him for taking a stand."
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "And what about the 15% of Stark Industries you now own? That was your decision, not mine."
Hela chuckled softly, knowing her husband's aversion to the corporate world. "It was my decision, and it's a good one. While others sold in panic, I bought in faith. And now, Stark Industries is partially ours—well, on paper, at least."
Harry shrugged, cutting into his steak. "I trust your instincts. You're the one who cares about all this corporate intrigue. I just make food and handle the occasional magical crisis."
She smiled at his nonchalant attitude. "It's not just about the money, Harry. This is about influence—being able to steer things in a better direction. Tony's going to face a lot of backlash, and having our 15% could help stabilize things. Maybe even protect him from being ousted by angry shareholders."
Harry sighed, putting his fork down and fixing her with a patient look. "And you're ready for that kind of responsibility? Because once you step into that world, you can't just wave your wand and make it all go away."
Hela nodded firmly. "I've already been doing it, Harry. While you were running the Black Hearth, I've been handling Stark Industries—balancing Tony's disappearance, calming panicked investors, and keeping the company from imploding. This is just another step forward."
He leaned back in his chair, watching her with admiration. "You've always been good at juggling the impossible. Just don't forget to make time for yourself—and for us."
Her expression softened, and she reached across the table to take his hand. "I won't. You're my anchor, Harry. No matter how chaotic things get, I'll always come back here—to you."
Harry squeezed her hand with a reassuring smile. "Good. Because I didn't sign up to be a corporate executive. I signed up to be your husband—and to make you the best crème brûlée you've ever had."
Hela laughed, the sound cutting through the tension that had built up during the conversation. As the television continued to broadcast reactions to Tony's announcement, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. With Harry by her side, she could face whatever challenges came her way. Together, they were unstoppable.
Author's Note:
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