Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Iron Man 3: Tony lies on the ground injured and heartsore; he’s failed to save Pepper, witnessing her fall to her death, and believes he has defeated Killian…

o-O-o

The faceplate popped off the disembodied head of the Iron Man helmet and Tony breathed out sharply in chagrined relief.

He was done.  Lying on the ground, fire burning in front of him, with the debris of the fight against Killian still falling and lurching around him…Tony Stark was officially done.

His body ached everywhere; he thought he had a couple of broken bones.  He was bleeding from a cut above his eye – around his eye? – enough that it stung like crazy.  But none of it mattered because Pepper was dead.

Millimetres.

He’d missed catching her by millimetres.

He knew he’d have a different nightmare to haunt him other than the vast depth of space and an army of aliens waiting to destroy Earth going forward.  Losing Pepper was so much more horrifying. 

His breath caught on a sob and…

The burning debris in front of him moved, the noise breaking through his reverie.

No.

No.

That couldn’t be…

Killian emerged; he was burning; a grotesque hung-together caricature of a human being; flesh blackened and lit up with orange fire.

Tony was already scrabbling backwards though as the monstrous form yelled at him about something to do with the Mandarin, but Tony was more concerned about the pain in his leg and arm which made moving difficult rather than listening to Killian’s monologue…

SLAM.

Killian went flying to the right as a pole hit him.

Pepper stood there.

Pepper.

Pepper.

She was alive.

She was ALIVE.

And burning with orange fire, eyes red. 

But alive.

Thank God.  Or Thor.  Or whoever the fuck he needed to thank.

Tony mumbled something but he wasn’t sure what.

An Iron Man suit dived towards them and Tony realised with horror that it was targeting Pepper; he hurriedly ordered it called off but…he’d lost his communicator…

The hit missed.

Pepper glared at him, used him to jump up.  She downed the suit one-handed and got the gauntlet on just in time to hit Killian again.  She kicked a missile toward him and ignited it…

Killian went boom.

Tony shivered.

If anybody had the right to kill the son-of-a-bitch it was Pepper; she’d been kidnapped, experimented upon…and Tony had the best lawyers.  He’d protect her from any fallout.

“Oh my God, that was very…” Pepper frowned as she searched for a word, “violent.”

“You scared me back there!” accused Tony, picking up the communication ear-piece and putting it back in.  He staggered to his feet and winced when his right leg protested.  Well, to be fair, both legs protested but he figured only one was definitely broken.

“Why?  Because I fell to my death?” asked Pepper dryly.

The orange glow faded from her body.

Pepper looked down at herself.   She hugged the arm with the gauntlet to her.  “I think I understand why you don’t want to give up the suits.”  She looked a little lost.  “What am I going to complain about now?”

“It’s me,” Tony pointed out, “you’ll think of something.”

He reached out and she darted back out of reach. 

“No, I’ll burn…”

“You’re fine,” Tony said, wincing as he moved to catch hold of her hand.  “See?  You’re not burning me.”  He drew her into a gentle hug. 

She was alive.

And he was alive.

“Who’s the hot mess now?” Pepper sighed in his ear. She was trembling.  “Do you think I can be fixed?”

Tony shifted to look her in the eyes.  “I almost had this when I was drunk years ago; I can fix this.  It’s what I do.”

“It’s what you do,” Pepper said quietly.  She poked him in the chest. 

He winced because he was literally a walking bruise, plus he thought his ribs might be cracked, maybe broken.

“Are you going to fix you too?” asked Pepper pointedly.

“I have PTSD,” Tony admitted.

Pepper’s expression softened and, surprisingly, there was pride for him flickering in her eyes.  “Yes,” she sighed again, “and I’m sorry.  I haven’t been the most supportive girlfriend…”

“No, you don’t have to say sorry,” Tony hurried out, “I wasn’t dealing with it, with any of it, and you…you’re the only…I love you.”

“I love you too,” Pepper hugged him, “but I knew something was wrong, Tony, and…I complained about your suits and you were just trying to cope.”

Tony thought about offering to destroy the suits.  He’d proven he didn’t need them.  He wasn’t the suit.  He even had a clean slate protocol for it…but no.  He didn’t need to destroy the suits to make Pepper happy; he just needed to do better at dealing with his problems. 

“But that’s over,” Pepper continued, dragging Tony’s attention back to her fierce expression, “we’re going to do better at taking care of each other from now on.”  Her grip tightened.  “We’re a team.”

Tony hugged her back.  He liked the sound of that; liked how it echoed what he had just been thinking.  “How about,” he said quietly, “how about a clean slate?”

“A clean slate sounds good,” Pepper said.

An Iron Man suit swept through the sky toward them and Tony worried for a second it was targeting them before he heard JARVIS in his ear…

“I have altered the previous order, sir, and have excluded Ms Potts,” JARVIS said calmly, bringing the suit to hover in front of them.  “SHIELD has agents on the way to do clean-up including medical assistance.”

Tony grimaced.  Another reason to mourn Agent Agent.  If Phil Coulson had been alive, he might have trusted that they’d do the right thing by Pepper, but now…

He frowned.

In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, he’d thought idly that something was off about the agency; the whole nuclear weapon thing, the way Alexander Pierce had shown up to try to take the Tesseract, the STRIKE team which looked more like a group of mercenary thugs than professional agency men…but he hadn’t focused on it.  He’d been too caught up in his own head.

He shook himself.

“JARVIS, take Pepper…” Tony stumbled.  The Malibu house was gone and besides they were on the East coast.  “Take Pepper to the tower.”

“No, Tony,” Pepper began to protest.

“We need to get you out of reach of SHIELD,” Tony said firmly.  “You have Extremis and I don’t trust them without Agent around to keep them honest.”

Pepper regarded him with a frown but nodded.  She eased her arm out of the gauntlet she wore.  “Are you sure putting me in the middle of a city is a good idea?  What if I blow up?”

“Put yourself in the Hulk room,” Tony suggested.  Hulk had never used it because Bruce Banner had disappeared before the renovations had been completed.  All of them had disappeared before the renovations had been done, making a mockery of the hopeful planning Tony and Pepper had done for the Avengers.

Pepper nodded.  She leaned in and kissed him gently.  “Come home to me.”

“I always do,” Tony murmured.

He watched as the suit wrapped her within it and took off.  He watched until he couldn’t see it in the night sky any longer, barely aware of the arriving cars spilling out a sea of agents to take control of the scene.

A clean slate, Tony mused, and he intended to use it.

o-O-o

The first problem was that there were very few people who Tony trusted to help him.

Tony turned the problem over in his head as the SHIELD medic finished patching up his injuries in the triage tent that SHIELD had erected near to the scene.

There was Pepper; there was always Pepper.  But he was meant to be helping her.  OK, they’d agreed to do this as a team and Tony was going to try his best to live up to that commitment and his commitment to do better.

Then, there was Happy.  But he was currently recovering from almost dying and hopefully, he was binge-watching Downton Abbey from the comfort of his very expensive private hospital bed.  Tony had no intention of dragging an injured Happy into anything.

Obviously he trusted Rhodey, his oldest friend.  But Rhodey was currently with the President, trying to deal with the fallout for the entire United States government.  Even Tony wasn’t selfish enough to try and wrangle Rhodey out of that simply because Tony wanted him.  Well, he was, but, he mused, see former point on trying to live up to his commitment to do better.

He always had JARVIS; Tony’s pride and joy.  However, JARVIS at the end of the day was constrained by being an artificial intelligence without a body of his own and he was already involved.  (It was JARVIS who was dealing with getting Pepper situated at the tower, ordering food and seeing to her care).

DUM-E, U and Butterfingers deserved to be on the list of Tony’s Trusted Team but as much as Tony loved them, their helpfulness was severely limited even if they were the best robots ever (not that Tony was biased), and they were all currently at the bottom of the ocean (and didn’t Tony’s heart just about skip its arc reactor powered beat at that thought; he might have killed them with his thoughtlessness).    

Not a long list of trusted friends.

He maybe could add a young kid in the middle of nowhere to that list; Harley Keener had been a better friend to Tony than many of the so-called friends he had suffered through the years.  The kid had potential.

Once upon a time, he might have added Agent Agent to the list of trusted.  Phil Coulson had been SHIELD, and he had been a pain in Tony’s ass, but he had also been the embodiment of a principled man.  The guy had worshipped Captain America.  Worshipped.

Tony had once hoped that he might add the Avengers to the list.  He’d certainly trusted them in battle and, if aliens arrived that moment and they had to fight them again, he’d probably trust them again in the heat of the fight.

After the battle was done? 

Not so much.

They’d all pretty much vamoosed as soon as the shawarma was eaten. 

It made Tony wonder whether he had been the only one Fury had told about the Avengers.  Or more likely, Fury had told them all, he’d just told them all something different.  Maybe Fury had only told Tony the fairy tale of a team of people who would fight the battles that others could not; who would work together but also be friends and comrades; they’d fight for each other as well as with each other against their enemies.

And Tony had fallen for it.

Had wanted to be part of it.

Sure, he’d turned it down, had pretended he didn’t want to have anything to do with it, and tried his best not to be upset at the assessment he shouldn’t have anything to do with it (he had been dying – he’d done things he regretted, not done things and regretted that too) except be an occasional consultant.

But secretly, Tony had wanted the team.

It seemed nobody else on the team wanted the team. 

Thor had gone back to Asgard; Steve Rogers had disappeared on a road trip; Natasha Romanoff had melted back into the ranks of SHIELD; Clint Barton had disappeared so completely Tony had wondered if he had actually hallucinated the man.  Bruce Banner had stayed for a couple of weeks before Tony had woken up to find Bruce had disappeared in the middle of the night without a forwarding address, but he had at least left a short note of gratitude for Tony’s friendship.

Tony had blindly continued with the plans for the Avengers anyway, remodelling the New York tower, designing upgraded gear and equipment, and setting up the framework to finance the above from his own funds.

But the team was not a team.

They certainly hadn’t shown up to help him with the Mandarin – or the fake Mandarin, Killian – whatever – they hadn’t helped.  They hadn’t called.  They hadn’t shown a whisper of concern for either him or Pepper.

Neither had SHIELD come to that.

They’d turned up like vultures after the kill, circling and picking apart the carcasses which remained.

Even so, Tony wasn’t surprised when Nick Fury swept into the tent and with a tilt of his bald head dismissed everyone else in the tent.

Fury shouldn’t be on the list.  But Tony did trust him a little, despite knowing he shouldn’t trust Fury any further than he could throw him (without the suit).

Tony swivelled into a sitting position, grateful that he’d been redressed in clean grey sweats – he really didn’t want to face Fury naked. 

He winced when he moved; most of his injuries had been patched up; the cuts on his face and the rest of his body were cleaned, stitched, and bandaged; one arm was in a soft splint and in a sling; his ribs – cracked not broken thankfully – were bound; his left ankle was strapped; his right leg was thankfully not broken but had a bruised thigh bone and apparently was going to bloom all the colours of the rainbow as it healed.

Tony forced himself to sit upright, unwilling to show any weakness in front of Fury.  Which was stupid since the man had already seen him drunk; hung-over; dying.

Fury stopped in front of him.  He crossed his arms, creasing the very expensive leather coat he always wore.  He glared at him with all the ferocity that a man with only one eye could glare, which for Fury was a lot.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” snapped Fury.

Tony stared at him for a long moment and impulsively decided to go with honesty.  “I was reacting not thinking.  Which to be fair is my default, go-to, whatever,” he gestured with the hand which wasn’t in the sling, “but probably the PTSD from my time encountering an alien army in the vast depths of space didn’t help with rational thinking.”

Fury blinked, taken aback. 

“I mean, I know it’s me, but is anyone taking the report I made seriously at all?” Tony continued.  “There’s a huge, ginormous, alien army waiting for us out there.”  He laughed humourlessly.  “Somehow I doubt they’re going to just give up!”

There was almost a look of chagrin crawling across Fury’s face.

“Nobody is ignoring your report,” Fury began.

Tony looked at him incredulously.

“It’s just nobody wants to pay attention to it,” Fury admitted.

“Including you,” Tony stated.

Fury grimaced.  “I have other things to worry about right now.  Earth-bound problems which need resolving first.”

“What could be more important than making sure Earth has some way to defend against an alien armada?” Tony protested.

“What are you going to do first?  Are you going to fix your girlfriend or solve the problem of that alien army?” Fury asked pointedly.

“I can multi-task,” Tony lied.

Fury just looked at him.

“OK, I can’t multi-task and Pepper comes first,” Tony sighed.  He rubbed his hand through his hair and winced as he knocked against more bruises. 

“Where is she?” asked Fury.

“Safe,” Tony replied.

“We could…”

“No,” Tony said firmly, “I can fix Extremis and Pepper.  You and SHIELD can keep your sticky fingers out of it.”

Fury huffed.  “Like you fixed your own heavy metal poisoning?”

Tony lifted an eyebrow and repressed the wince which came with the jolt of pain from moving his face.  “I did fix it myself in the end and had you given me my father’s things to begin with, I might have fixed it myself sooner.”  He pointed out.

Fury didn’t bother arguing which Tony took to mean that Tony had won the argument.  “Doctor Helen Cho.  She’s a remarkable physician, top of her field.  She can help you make sense of the biology.”

“I was going to see if Bruce would come back and help,” Tony retorted.

“He might for you,” Fury said.  He looked at Tony challengingly.  “Do you need me to tell you where he is?”

“No,” Tony replied evenly.

“Good,” Fury said. 

There was a definite sound by the entrance, forewarning them somebody was approaching and a second later, Maria Hill entered.  Outfitted in the usual SHIELD field tactical suit, she looked slim, dangerous and competent.  She looked completely unimpressed by Tony as usual.

“Sir, clean-up is in progress; the site has been made safe and we’ve begun recovering the remains of the Extremis soldiers,” Hill reported with brisk efficiency.  “Agent Sitwell reports that the Iron Men debris was collected by Iron Men suits before our agents could get into the site.”

Tony shrugged as Fury shot him an annoyed look and regretted the movement as soon as he made it.  He lifted his good hand to massage the pulled and aching muscles of his shoulder.

“There’s no sign of Adrian Killian either,” Hill continued.

Hill and Fury turned to Tony.

“Oh, he went boom in a big way,” Tony offered breezily.

“I’ll prepare a cover story for his death,” Hill said dispassionately.

Tony repressed the urge to mock her for doing her job.  He was tired.  He was hurt and feeling it since he had refused the heavier painkillers the doctor had offered.  He wanted to go home to his own bed which hopefully had Pepper in it, crawl inside clean sheets and sleep for a week.

“Are we done?” asked Tony.

Hill looked at him like he was a bug she’d found in her shoe, under her shoe, somewhere near a shoe.

“You need to be fully debriefed,” Fury said.  “Agent Sitwell said you refused to answer any of his questions when he arrived.”

“I’m not one of your agents, Fury,” Tony pointed out, “and I’ll be happy to tell you everything once I’ve fixed Pepper; she’s my priority.”

“Pity that wasn’t the case when you gave your address away on live television,” Hill said snidely.

Tony glared at her.  “And I suppose you’ve never done anything wrong in the heat of the moment?”

Hill returned his glare with a resolute one of his own.

Fury blew out a breath.  “Fine,” he muttered, “Hill, you’re assigned to help Stark.”

“WHAT?!”

Both Tony and Hill barked in unison.

Tony waved his hand dramatically in the air to make sure Fury looked at him first.  “I said I didn’t need help!”

“Stark, you can barely stand,” Fury said bluntly, “your girlfriend is a ticking bomb, your…Head of Security is hospitalised, and Colonel Rhodes is unavailable.  You need somebody to help you get things done and Agent Hill is the best there is.” He shifted to catch and keep Tony’s gaze.  “There is nobody else living on this planet who I trust more than Hill.”

For a split second, Hill looked completely shocked by Fury’s fulsome praise, before she wiped all expression from her face and took the position of a perfect model soldier. 

“I’ll do my best, sir,” Hill stated.

Tony knew he’d lose any argument he could muster – could he muster an argument anyway?  Hadn’t he just been debating the fact that he hadn’t anyone to help him who he trusted?  Well, he didn’t trust Hill either.  But hadn’t he already admitted to himself that he did trust Fury a little – maybe as far as he could throw him with the suit.  Fury had agendas within agendas, motivations masked by motivations.  But Hill reminded him of Agent, of Phil.

“Fine,” Tony said with enough bite that Fury knew he wasn’t conceding completely, “but she finds her own way to New York.”

“New York?” Hill questioned.

Tony slid off the medical table and began to limp out of the tent.  “It’s where I’m headed.”

“You can’t just leave!” Hill protested as she realised Tony was seriously walking, or rather limping, out.

Fury followed as they left the tent and ended up in an open area, barricaded by SHIELD cars and agents. 

Tony noticed the sky was turning to a lighter shade of purple; dawn arriving after a long night.

“How are you planning to travel to New York without transport…”

Hill’s question was cut off by the sound of an Iron Man suit cutting through the air.  The suit was one of the more basic models Tony had done during the past month, a simple blue and silver version which he’d called Rescue.  He’d been thinking about Pepper when he’d made it; it was a model built for fire and rescue, to simply save people.  It had hardly any offensive weaponry at all.  It seemed JARVIS had chosen his ride home well.

The suit dropped into land with a thud and opened up as Tony stepped forward, removing the sling which wouldn’t work in the suit.  He turned and let the metal armour wrap itself around him and breathed out as the faceplate snapped into place.

Safe.

He was safe.

Hill looked cross.  Her arms folded tightly across her chest, a scowl marring her otherwise perfect appearance of efficient competency.

Fury just nodded at him.

“Contact Cho and get her to meet us in New York, Agent Hill,” Tony said, “I’ll see you there.”  He lifted off, shooting into the sky without another word.

“I’ve calculated our route to the tower, sir,” JARVIS reported, “Ms Potts was able to eat a small meal, before she cleaned up and retired to your room.”

“We need to monitor her vitals constantly, JARVIS,” Tony said, “the minute she looks as though Extremis might…”

“Ms Potts has already given that instruction, sir,” JARVIS said. 

Tony breathed out; he should have known Pepper would have given the instruction.  She was probably worried about exploding herself.

“I have taken the liberty of calling our construction division to check in on recovery of the Malibu property,” JARVIS said.  “I have instructed them to begin dredging the ocean to recover anything of value.”

Tony grimaced.  “Good work, JARVIS.  Organise something for Harley too, will you?”

“I will find something appropriate,” JARVIS promised.

“Not appropriate,” Tony mumbled, his eyelids growing heavy, “something inappropriate, something me.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS answered dryly.

“You take the wheel, JARVIS,” Tony sighed, giving into the tiredness which pulled at him, “I need to close my eyes for a minute here.  Just, you know, don’t end up in the snow in a field in the middle of nowhere again.”  Don’t leave me again. 

“Very well, sir,” JARVIS said almost gently.

“Tell Pepper…”

“I will inform Ms Potts,” JARVIS said.  “I have you, sir.”

JARVIS had him.

He was safe.

Tony let his eyes close, felt JARVIS adjust course and tumbled into darkness.

o-O-o

Tony woke up in a bed.

He was fully clothed although someone had removed the battered sneakers he’d worn.  He smelled terrible.  His mouth was dry and felt furry.  There was a dull headache behind his eyes.  The rest of his body just hurt.  He had a vague memory of arriving at the tower…staggering inside the penthouse and…yep; nothing.

“Good, you’re awake,” Hill said briskly, walking in and opening the curtains, holding a Stark tablet under one arm.

The bright rush of sunshine across the bedroom had Tony wincing and flinching away as though he was a vampire.

Hill stood in front of him and Tony took in her neat appearance; a smart grey business dress, dark grey court shoes, nude hose.  Her make-up and hair were impeccable. She reminded him more of Pepper than of Natasha when she had play-acted at being his assistant; all business with none of Natasha’s amped up sex appeal.

“What time is it?” Tony asked.

“Oh-fifteen hundred,” Hill reported.  She poured him a glass of water from a pitcher Tony hadn’t even realised was in the room.  She handed it to him and he drank it thirstily. “Pepper requested that we let you sleep.  Doctor Cho is in-bound to JFK within the hour.  I have a driver waiting to pick her up and bring her to the tower.” 

Tony nodded absently as he dragged his body from the confines of the bed.  “Pepper?”

“She’s waiting to speak with you in the penthouse kitchen once you’re ready,” Hill said, with a hint of admiration for Pepper seeping through her business-like tone.

Tony didn’t blame her; Pepper deserved all the admiration in his opinion.  “How is she?”

Hill’s demeanour softened a touch.  “She’s a strong woman, Stark.  She’s on her feet, working, and looking incredible doing it.”

Tony blew out a breath.  He knew work was Pepper’s drug just as the suits were his; she was covering her hurt behind her competence.

“We have a full schedule, you should get ready,” Hill said, “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” She marched out before he could reply.

Tony limped into the bathroom.  He took care of his pressing need to use the facilities before dragging himself in front of the mirror.

His face looked battered.  He ordered the water on and peeled himself out of his clothes.  “JARVIS, give me a run-down.”

“SHIELD continue their efforts to clean-up the site, sir,” JARVIS informed him as Tony carefully undid his bandages, “Agent Sitwell has been left in charge.”

“Bald guy, glasses, little creepy?” asked Tony, thinking about the agent who had tried to interrogate him when SHIELD had arrived.  He stepped under the shower spray and gave a groan of pleasure and pain as the water hit his cuts, bruises and abused muscles.  He frowned.  Hadn’t Sitwell been with the thugs at the tower when they’d collected Loki’s staff thing?

“That would be an accurate description, sir,” JARVIS said.  “I have relocated two suits to the tower in addition to the two previously held here, sir.  All suit debris has been placed in the recycling unit in the basement.  All the remaining suits have been relocated to the secondary storage unit in Missouri.”

“Excellent work, JARVIS,” Tony said.  “Happy?”

“His physician recorded his progress as satisfactory,” JARVIS reported, “his vital signs are good and he is producing urine and stools…”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Tony protested.  “TMI, JARVIS!”

“I am sorry, sir,” JARVIS said insincerely, “I merely thought to report Mr Hogan’s full condition to you.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony reached for the shampoo.  “Sure you did.”  He lathered his hair, grimacing as he found more bumps and cuts.  He rinsed off and repeated until his hair squeaked clean. 

“Send Happy a message,” Tony ordered, “something nice, get well soon, good to know you’re peeing and pooping, that type of thing.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said.

“We’re taking care of the bills and…”

“Everything is being handled, sir,” JARVIS informed him, “Mr Hogan will have the best care.”

“Good,” Tony moved onto washing his body.  It was a painful and slow process.  JARVIS’ reports on the Malibu house helped distract him until he staggered out of the shower, dripping and shivering with reaction.

The towels were warm and comforting as he wrapped one around his waist.  He towelled his hair dry with the other, before slinging it around his neck.  He rubbed a hand over his jaw and decided against shaving.  It would wait another day. 

“JARVIS,” Tony instructed as he reached for his toothbrush, “start a search for psychiatrists and psychologists with excellent records at treating PTSD through non-medicinal means.  Rank the top three; pull their research, articles, whatever.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS confirmed. 

Tony considered keeping it to himself for a long moment, still slightly ashamed at needing help, before he reminded himself; teamwork.

“Share the results with Pepper,” he ordered. 

Tony brushed his teeth until they felt smooth and his mouth stung with minty freshness. He hunted out two painkillers from a stash in his bathroom cabinet and swallowed them down with a gulp of water from the tap. 

“JARVIS,” Tony said as he headed into his walk-in wardrobe to search out clothes, “is that virus we implanted in SHIELD’s system on the helicarrier able to be reactivated?”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said with a hint of ‘what are you up to now?’ about his tone that reminded Tony all too much of the original Jarvis.

“Reactivate it and send it searching,” Tony said, “something’s wrong with SHIELD, I want to know what.”

“Reactivating virus, sir,” JARVIS confirmed.  “What exactly are the search parameters, sir?”

“Anything hinky,” Tony said.

“Hinky?” JARVIS questioned.

“Hinky,” Tony ignored his suits and went straight for sweatpants combined with a combination long shirt t-shirt under another short-sleeved one both proclaiming his love for AC/DC.  “Anything illogical, illegal, illicit…you get the drift.”

“Drift ill-gotten, sir,” JARVIS said dryly.

Tony pulled on comfortable and worn sneakers.  He headed out to the kitchen.  He was so relieved to find Pepper there, he hovered in the doorway for a long moment just drinking her in. 

Her hair was down; a straight fall of strawberry blonde silk over her back.  She’d dressed simply and casually; a white tailored cotton shirt over grey yoga pants; ballet pumps on her feet.  She sat at the kitchen table reading her tablet, a mug to one side. 

Hill sat opposite her, a tablet beside her, a laptop open in front of her.  She was tapping away busily.

“Pep!” Tony called out to her as he entered the room.

She slid out from the table and in the next breath they were hugging, holding each other tightly.  Pepper kissed him soundly before drawing back and examining his battered face. 

“You look terrible,” Pepper proclaimed, cupping his face between her hands.

“You look beautiful,” Tony said and kissed her gently.

Hill cleared her throat, reminding them of her presence.

They broke apart but Tony kept their fingers tangled as he walked her back to the table before heading to get food.

“You want something to eat?” asked Tony, opening the refrigerator and retrieving the makings of a sandwich. 

“Not for me,” Pepper said.  “I’m fine.”

Hill declined but watched as Tony managed to make a sandwich filled with deli meat, lettuce and pickles.

Tony was almost done when there was a plaintive meow by his ankle.  His eyes leaped downward and froze at the sight of a ginger cat.

“Uh, Pepper?” He asked.  “I thought you were allergic to cats?”

“I’m allergic to strawberries, Tony,” Pepper said.  “Goose is fine.”

“Goose?” asked Tony.

“Top Gun,” Hill said crisply.

“This is your cat?” asked Tony as the cat’s eyes continued to focus on the deli meat Tony was piling onto his sandwich.  “You brought your cat?”

“Fury’s,” said Hill.

Tony froze and looked at Hill in disbelief.  “Fury has a cat.”

Hill nodded.  “He insisted I bring it.”  There was a distinct air of ‘please don’t ask me why’ and ‘I am just as bewildered and bemused as you are’ about her answer that forestalled Tony asking anything more about the cat.

He gave a shrug and finished making his sandwich.  He glanced at Hill surreptitiously and fed the cat some of the deli meat.

He was rewarded by a purr and a furry head rubbing at his ankles. 

Tony poured himself a coffee from the pot on the counter, picked up his plate and headed to the table to join the two women.

“Somebody might think you were pregnant,” Hill commented wryly, taking in his sandwich fixings.

Tony found himself amused by her.  His reply was to stuff half his sandwich in his mouth as he took his seat at the table.  He took him a while to chew enough to swallow.  He kept his eyes on Pepper.

“How are you really?” He asked.

“Physically I’m fine,” Pepper said, “JARVIS is monitoring me for any kind of heat but so far I haven’t flared up.”

“The advice is to keep calm,” Hill said crisply.  “Both Doctor Cho and Doctor Simmons believe the virus is hormonally triggered through emotional changes. If you maintain a calm and peaceful manner, it shouldn’t trigger.”

Pepper hummed disbelievingly.

“You do know she lives with me?” pointed out Tony.

“You’ll just have to try not to be so you until you find a cure,” Hill said dryly.

“Can you find a cure, Tony?” asked Pepper bluntly.  “I mean, I know you said yesterday after everything that you could, but was that you just being positive because I think I should…”

Tony reached over and grasped her hand in his.  He kept hold until she looked at him.  Her eyes were filled with fear.

“I’ve got this,” he told her firmly, “Maya came to me because she knew I could solve it.  I almost solved it when I was drunk and not at all interested.  Now?  I’m very, very interested.”  He paused.  “Also sober.”

“He’ll have the best help possible,” Hill added.

Pepper blew out one breath and took another.  “I need to stay calm, right?  So, worrying about this is going to be counterproductive.”  She picked up her tablet.  “I’m going to lose myself in the new Tokyo contracts for a while.”  She got up and dropped a kiss on the top of Tony’s head.  “Don’t work too hard that you get distracted.”

“I got this,” Tony promised her again.  “I’ll come back up for dinner, right?  We can order in, watch a…a very boring movie, and have an early night together.”

“Sounds good,” Pepper said.  She dropped another kiss on his lips and wrinkled her nose.  “Pickle.”

Tony offered her the rest of his sandwich.  She smiled and walked away.

“Can you really fix her or are you blowing smoke, Stark?” asked Hill bluntly.

Tony shot her an annoyed look.  “I can fix her.” He grabbed his plate and coffee.  “I’ll be in the workshop.”

He could fix Pepper; he could, Tony thought with determination as he took the elevator down to the workshop, faintly aware that the cat had followed him.

Tony entered the workshop and dumped his food on the side.  “JARVIS, light her up.  I want everything Maya had on Extremis.”

The holotable erupted into life; articles, data, research all displayed in light hovering above the table.

Tony pressed his lips together and got to work.

o-O-o

One week after Killian’s plot to kill the President and own the war on terror had come to an explosive finish, Tony snuggled closer to Pepper on the sofa, not even bothering to watch the movie which was playing across the screen.  Pepper was glued; her eyes tracking the actors, her face smiling or frowning depending on the action.  Tony watched her. 

He could have lost her.

His worst nightmare realised.

They had made quite a bit of progress towards fixing her.  They had a workable formula, but there were tests to perform on some poor unfortunate mice, then maybe a pig or a monkey, before they tried it on Pepper herself.

Helen Cho was a godsend.  If the idea didn’t make him break out into hives, he might have thought to send Fury a fruit basket.

The doctor was a genius; intelligence off the charts with the practical skills to back up her theory.  In her own quiet way, she stood her ground, took no shit from Tony, and pushed him to do his best with the programming.  With Pepper she was respectful but firm and wouldn’t let her wriggle out of knowing about her own changed physiology.  Goose loved her, and maybe if pushed Tony would admit that both he and Pepper might adore the small Korean woman.  Meanwhile the doctor was clearly very in love with the fiancée she had left behind in Seoul and spent most of her free time video-messaging her in the suite of rooms Hill had organised for her.

Hill had also been a godsend.  Even if he had sent her a shoe basket, Tony was going to admit that out loud about the same time as he would happily consent to having a lobotomy.  Hill had slotted into their space as a combined assistant to both Pepper and Tony.

She was tough; she managed Tony with a brisk efficiency and a sense of humour which was drier than the Sahara.  Tony liked to think they were building a mutual respect underneath her continued outward disapproval for Tony’s carefully cultivated public image of a selfish and eccentric billionaire who did whatever the hell he wanted.  

Frankly, she was wasted playing assistant to them and Tony was fully expecting Fury to call her back any day.

Tony shifted as he considered the phone call that he’d received that morning from Barton.  He’d been surprised by the call, surprised if he had been called, it had been by Barton of all people.

“Sorry, I’ve been on leave…recovering in the middle of nowhere really,” Barton said, a genuine note of apology in his voice. 

Tony felt a pang of guilt for not considering Barton’s own injuries from the Battle of New York.  The archer had been mind-fucked by Loki; no wonder he’d disappeared after everything and hadn’t been interested in sticking around.

“I only just found out the whole thing went down when Nat showed up for a visit and yelled about it in Russian for an hour,” Barton continued, “Are you and Ms Potts, OK?”

“We’re…” Tony couldn’t actually say the word ‘fine.’ He sighed and swivelled his chair to glare at the latest set of Extremis programming.  “We’re getting there.”

“That’s good,” Barton said with a sigh.

“You?” asked Tony hurriedly, trying to make up for his own lack of care about Barton. 

“Getting there,” Barton parroted back.

Tony’s lips twitched in mild amusement.  “You know I had my own experience of the middle of nowhere recently…”

“How was that?” asked Barton dryly.

“It was a lot of middle and a lot of nowhere,” Tony said and warmed as Barton laughed on the other end of the phone.  “But there was…there were good people who helped me.  You have any of those?”

“Some,” Barton said after a small moment of hesitation.  “But thanks for checking, Stark.”

“Tony,” Tony offered impulsively.

“Clint then,” Clint immediately responded which made Tony feel like the first time Rhodey had come to his defence; that weird feeling that maybe someone liked him and he wasn’t a complete failure at making friends.

“I think I prefer Legolas,” Tony shot back anyway.

“As long as you don’t start calling me Katniss,” Clint said, his tone warm and filled with good humour.  “I get enough of that from Nat.”

“So,” Tony said, “Romanoff’s with you?”

“Not anymore,” Clint replied easily, “Fury’s got her trying to convince Rogers to join SHIELD.”

Tony frowned. “Better her than me.”

“Actually, I think it would be better you than her taking an interest in him,” Clint said surprisingly serious, “I mean, I know you’re going through your own shit and God knows you don’t need his, but he’s mourning losing everyone and everything he’s ever known.  At least you’d be a link to an old friend, right?”

“Hadn’t thought of it that way,” Tony admitted. 

He was beginning to think in his sulking about the team disappearing into the ether, he hadn’t been fair to any of them about why they’d disappeared; hadn’t considered that they were struggling with their own pain, and their own horrible nightmares.  He really was a selfish bastard.

“Look,” Clint said, “Nat said you have Hill with you and she’s good people.  Phil always liked her and she…she’s always been straight with me.  She was the one who helped me call you.”

“She’s terrifyingly efficient,” Tony blurted out.

Clint laughed.  “She’ll have your back, that’s the main thing.” He paused.  “Nat was pissed the World Security Council banned SHIELD from providing you with help.”

Tony was cynical enough to wonder if Clint’s words were meant to be a manipulation, but his memory of Clint was as a straight shooter (pun totally intended) and he figured Clint wasn’t quite into the word and mind games as the rest of SHIELD.

“Uh, I should warn you in case you see her; she might be pissed at you too for the whole address on TV thing,” Clint finished.  

“Everyone’s pissed at me about that,” Tony admitted, “it was, in hindsight, not my best moment.”

“I’ve done my fair share of stupid shit,” Clint said.  “Look, this is a day late and a dollar short, but if you need me you can call me.”  He rattled off a number and Tony checked JARVIS had gotten it. 

“Thanks, Legolas,” Tony said, “and look, speaking of day late, dollar short…is there anything you need?  Pepper and I are checking out some doctors with good records on PTSD and…”

“I have everything I need right here,” Clint said warmly, “but thanks, Tony.”

“You OK?”

Tony jolted back to the present as Pepper ran a hand through his hair, her eyes filled with concern for him.

Tony nodded but leaned into her touch.  He realised absently that the movie was done, the credits playing on the screen.  “Just thinking.”

Pepper’s lips curved into a small smile.  “You’re incapable of not thinking, Tony,” she said, “your mind never stops.”

Tony dropped a kiss on her lips.  “There’s one way to get me to stop thinking,” he noted lightly.

Pepper kissed him gently.  “Yes, but we’re not allowed.”

Tony waggled his eyebrows.  “Because I’ll get you hot and bothered.”

Pepper laughed lightly and kissed him again.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But what a way to go,” Tony countered breezily.  He stroked her hair back behind a shoulder with his good hand and cupped her cheek.  His sleep was filled with nightmares of losing her.  “I love you.”

“That’s good, because I love you too,” Pepper kissed him again. 

They settled back content to hold each other.

“What were you thinking about?” asked Pepper quietly.  “Are you worried about your appointment with Doctor Hanish tomorrow?”

“No, not…” Tony stopped and corrected himself, wanting to be honest with her, “I’m…” he searched for the right word, “apprehensive about that, but that’s not what I was thinking about.”

“Oh?”

“Clint Barton called me this morning,” Tony said, “it’s made me rethink a few things.”

“Barton was the archer, right?” Pepper checked, easing back to look at him fully, but keeping their bodies close, their fingers tangled.  “The one who was abducted by Loki.”

He nodded.

“And he called you,” Pepper stated.

“To apologise for not knowing what had happened and for not helping,” Tony said.

Surprise flickered over Pepper’s freckled face.

“He’s been as he put it, on leave, recovering in the middle of nowhere,” Tony said, “he didn’t know until Natasha visited him and told him what had happened to us.”

Pepper frowned.  “It was good of him to call then.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, “and he gave me a number to call if we needed him.”

Pepper searched his gaze for a long moment.  “So, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking maybe I was too caught up in my own issues to see the rest of the team had issues of their own?” ventured Tony.  “Maybe it wasn’t that they didn’t want the team so much as…”

“A matter of timing,” Pepper concluded thoughtfully.  She poked him in one of the few spots he wasn’t bruised.  “You’re not going to spend hours blaming yourself for not seeing the others had issues too, are you?”

“No?” Tony sighed at her knowing look.  “Just that Rogers might have had a point about how self-centred I can be.”

Pepper pressed her lips together momentarily.  “Rogers doesn’t know you,” she stated before she took a breath, clearly calming herself down.  She’d been furious and spitting fire when Tony had told her about his initial confrontations with Rogers, and that had been before she’d been injected with Extremis.

“I am self-centred,” Tony countered.

“Yes,” Pepper said, “and those of us who have known and loved you for years have the right to tell you when you are being self-centred, just as we have the right to tell other people to go fuck themselves.  If they don’t see that you have a good heart, that you’re a good man, then you don’t need them.”

Tony felt his throat close-up on a rush of emotion.  He tightened his fingers around hers.  “I’m not a good man.”  He took a breath.  “I’m Iron Man because I wanted revenge.  I like the attention of being Iron Man.  I didn’t…I don’t wear the suit because I’m selfless, Pep.”

Pepper’s eyes were steady on his.  There was no surprise or disgust at his confession.  “And taking a nuclear weapon through a hole in space?  Not knowing if you would come back from that?  That was selfless, Tony. You saved New York; you saved a lot of people from the fallout.”

“An anomaly,” Tony retorted, “a blip, a…it was…”

“It was who you really are underneath your armour,” Pepper said, “and I don’t mean your suit.”

Tony squirmed a little, tried to avoid her eyes but eventually gave in and huddled closer to her; let her draw him into her arms so she could hug him. 

“You might be biased,” he said eventually, when the vulnerable rawness of how he felt had faded enough to speak.

“A little,” Pepper said.

Tony shifted and kissed her.  He examined her for a long moment.  Thought back through their conversation; thought about how Pepper had woken with nightmares every night.  He cleared his throat and made an effort to be less self-centred.  “Are you nervous about seeing Doctor Hanish tomorrow?”

Pepper nodded and gave a sheepish smile.  “For all I’ve nagged you about getting help, admitting that I need it myself?  I’m realising that it’s not as easy as I thought.”

Tony kissed her fingers and tugged her back into his arms.  He held her for a long while just giving her comfort.

Goose padded in and jumped up with a meow.  She demanded in on their cuddle with determined furry paws.  They shifted to accommodate the cat who curled up, sprawled across their laps, purring.  Tony grimaced when she rubbed up against his splinted arm; he was refusing to wear the sling.

Pepper stroked Goose’s head with a smile.  “It’s nice having a pet.”

“I still say she’s spying on us,” Tony joked. 

Pepper shot him an amused look.

“She’s Fury’s cat!” Tony pointed out.

Pepper simply snuggled in closer.  “JARVIS, line up the next movie, please.”

“Of course, Ms Potts,” JARVIS responded.

Tony glanced over at the screen as it burst into life.  The Lion King.  He couldn’t help but be a little proud of JARVIS’ sass.  “You know I don’t think I’ve ever watched as much Disney as I have in the last week.  Aren’t they all tear-jerking emotional roller-coasters?  I thought we were meant to be watching boring movies.”

Pepper hummed and kissed him.  “Watch the movie, Tony.”

He didn’t. 

Tony watched Pepper watch the movie and thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t lost her.

o-O-o

“…and Pepper has highlighted that you have two reports from R&D that need your attention, both linked with the Tokyo contracts, and…” Hill suddenly slapped down her hand on the workshop table beside her, “are you even listening to me?”

“No,” Tony said honestly. 

Hill looked completely disconcerted for a moment.  It highly amused Tony how he could throw off Hill and Fury by being honest.  He was going to try it on all SHIELD agents going forward, he decided.  If nothing else, it would provide him with entertainment.

Tony twirled a pen around his fingers and swivelled his stool around from the bank of monitors in front of him to look at Hill properly. She was dressed in another classy navy blue business pantsuit with a crisp white tailored shirt.  She wore the Jimmy Choo’s he’d sent her in the shoe basket.  Her hair was in a chignon.  He had no doubt that she was armed.

“The Avengers,” Tony stated out loud.  “What do you know about the initiative?”

Hill glowered at him.  She crossed her arms and raised an impeccably arched eyebrow.  “Why are you asking about it?”

“Because I’m considering how to bring us back together,” Tony said.

Hill held his gaze for a moment before she gave in only to offer a protest.  “Fury told you all to lay low after New York.”

Tony shrugged.  “Have I ever done anything Fury told me to do?”

Hill sighed.  “The WSC isn’t going to like it.”

“The WSC who sent a nuke into New York?  That same WSC?” Tony questioned with heavy sarcasm.

Hill waved him off.  “Why do you want to get the team together?”

“If we’re going to be a team, we need to be together working through things not separated by distance,” Tony said confidently.

“Did you learn that from your therapist?” asked Hill bluntly.

“First, ouch!” Tony said, holding her gaze until he saw a flicker of shame there for the jibe.  “Secondly, yes, I did.  Doctor Hanish and I had a very long chat about paranoia.”

“It’s one of the symptoms of PTSD,” Hill remarked thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Tony fiddled with the pen he held, “and yet the good doctor pointed out to me that old saying: ‘just because you’re paranoid, it…’”

“’…it doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you,’” Hill finished. 

“I think it’s interesting that the WSC wanted us to lay low and we were encouraged us to go our own ways,” Tony said, “don’t you?”  He gestured expansively. “After all, we’d just won the first battle of the human race against an alien army.  Well, that we know about.  If I look at it from a pure PR perspective, we should have built on that success.”  He paused.  “The whole thing was swept under the carpet; Congress went from demanding investigations to waving off requests and questions about the whole thing; same with the media.  That’s not usual.”

Hill regarded him with a sombre expression.  “You think someone made the whole thing go away.”

Tony made another ‘what do I know’ gesture.  “You tell me.  You’re Fury’s right-hand woman.”

Hill cocked her head.  “You think Fury made the whole thing go away.”

“Didn’t he?” Tony pressed her.

She didn’t answer straight away and when she did, it was to slowly shake her head.  “No,” Hill admitted, “Fury was surprised as anyone when Congress stopped asking for information.”

“Earth-bound problems,” Tony repeated and pointed the pen at her, “Fury mentioned he was dealing with Earth-bound problems and that was why he had no time to focus on the alien armada I saw.”

“But if there is a problem…” Hill stuttered to a stop and he knew she hadn’t intended to speak.

“Why has he got you playing assistant for me?” Tony supplied.  “Why has he got Natasha glued to Steve Rogers?  Barton said he was out in the middle of nowhere.  Fury’s sending his most trusted away from SHIELD.”

Hill’s face went through a myriad of emotions in a split second before she blanked her expression.  It was a very good blank professional mask.  He’d give her a ten out of ten for it. 

“You think there’s a problem in SHIELD,” Hill stated.

“I think there’s a problem in SHIELD and the WSC,” Tony shot back.  “And I think if there is a problem, we should be doing the opposite of what the WSC told us to do.”

“Fury isn’t going to like this,” Hill sighed.

“What about you?” asked Tony directly.

Hill grimaced.  “I think you have a point.”

“So, you’ll help me get the gang back together?” pressed Tony.

Hill sighed heavily.  “Helping you is my assignment.”

“Excellent,” Tony said.

“And I’ll get right on that after you read those two reports for the Tokyo contracts,” Hill finished.  She picked up her tablet and swept out.

“Huh,” Tony said almost admiringly.  “JARVIS?”

“Should I bring up the reports, sir?”

“Of course not,” Tony abandoned his pen and picked up a stress ball he had lying around, “tell me what you’ve found on SHIELD so far.”

“So far, sir, I have found over twenty thousand missions performed since SHIELD was founded after the Second World War,” JARVIS commented dryly.

“That’s a lot of missions,” Tony observed.

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said, “they range from domestic terrorism to supernatural mysteries, from international espionage to local witch hunts.”

“Why do I get the feeling witch hunt isn’t a euphemism?” murmured Tony.

“Because it is not, sir,” JARVIS said.  “The digital data record within SHIELD is immense, sir.  I am still attempting to catalogue the contents of the virus’ search and have not yet been able to examine the data records individually.”

Tony tossed the ball up in the air and caught it.  “You need an assistant.  I think it’s time we brought FRIDAY online.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said, sounding pleased.

“Speaking of your siblings, any news?” asked Tony, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

“Not yet, sir,” JARVIS informed him gently, “but the dredging team are still looking.”

Tony tossed the ball again, caught it and put it aside.  “Let me know as soon as they’re located.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said, “and sir?  The reports for the Tokyo contracts are on the screen to your left, sir.”

Tony grinned and ignored the screen to his left.

o-O-o

The diner in downtown D.C. looked like it belonged in a movie about the Fifties.  It was period detail perfect from the jukebox to the Formica. 

Tony slid into a booth at Hill’s ushering, bemused when she slid in beside him.  He picked up a fairly minimal menu; breakfast, burgers, and desserts.  The drinks menu had milkshakes and soft drinks.  Tony’s inner child was thrilled with the whole thing.  He immediately ordered a burger, fries and a shake.  Hill went with the same which made Tony look at her with respect.

“What?” asked Hill.  “You and I both know the gala thing at the White House for Rhodes is going to be canapes only.”

“Agreed,” Tony said.  “Is that why you brought us here?”

“No,” Hill’s gaze went to the entrance, “I brought you here to meet with them.” She nodded towards the door.

Tony looked over and blinked behind his glasses at the sight of Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff walking in.  He watched amused as Natasha herded Rogers into the booth, sliding in beside him opposite Hill.

“Stark,” Rogers greeted him frostily.

“Capsicle,” Tony replied insouciantly.

Annoyance flickered across the All-American face, but it was shunted aside by politeness as the waitress took their order.

Natasha gestured at Hill.  “You said we had to meet?”

“Stark brought some things to my attention,” Hill said in a wry tone, “and I think he’s right.”

Natasha’s cool gaze snapped to Tony.  “What things?”  Her voice was edged with annoyance.

Tony made a show of wincing.  “Clint said you were pissed at me.”

For the first time since he’d met her, Natasha looked stunned.  “Clint?”

“He called me,” Tony said briskly, “we caught up.”  He picked up a coaster and tapped it against the table.  “He mentioned you were pissed at me for the whole address thing.”

“For a genius you can be very stupid,” Natasha said bitingly.

Tony held up both hands and went with his new practice of honesty when dealing with SHIELD agents.  “I know and, even if my temper was exacerbated by my PTSD, it’s no excuse for doing something so insanely stupid.  It almost got Pepper killed; I won’t ever forgive myself for that.”

“It almost got you killed!” Natasha retorted before swearing in Russian.

Tony blinked at her.  “I don’t think that’s anatomically possible.”

Rogers looked confused but everything went on hold as the food arrived. 

Tony doused his fries liberally in salt and ketchup, stuffed a handful of them in his mouth and reached for the burger. 

“What’s PTSD?” Rogers asked.

Tony stopped mid-chew and sent a request for help to Hill and Natasha who both ignored him.  He swallowed.  “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” he reeled off, “they used to call it shellshock?”

Rogers’ expression melted into one of compassionate pity.  “Right, I knew some guys who suffered from that.” His blue eyes raked over Tony who was dressed in a sharp and very expensive Tom Ford; his bruises, bandages and splint all carefully concealed beneath it.  “You don’t look like they did.”

Tony shrugged.  “The world deals with mental health issues differently these days.”

There was another brief look of confusion before Rogers decided to focus on his burger. 

“Stark’s therapist pointed out that just because he was paranoid, it didn’t mean he was wrong to suspect something was up,” Hill said succinctly to Natasha.  “Stark also pointed out that Fury’s sent his most trusted people in SHIELD away.  Congress went silent on New York.  No follow-up was done on the nuke sent by WSC.”

“You think something is wrong from just that?” questioned Rogers, frowning.

“No, they’re right,” Natasha chewed on a fry.  “One of those things is a warning flag; all of it together?  Something’s up.”

“So, what’s our play?” asked Rogers, getting directly to the point.

“We get the Avengers back together,” Tony said.  “Beyond that…I figure we work this through as a team.”

Rogers and Natasha both froze and stared at him.

“You?  Tony Stark is advocating teamwork?” Natasha asked dryly.

Tony just looked back at her evenly. 

Natasha gave an apologetic grimace. 

“You can’t blame us for questioning you,” Rogers jumped in defensively.  “You’re not a team player and…”

“You know I had hoped the fact that I was very much a team player when it came to fighting aliens might have helped you get over seeing my sex tapes but whatever…”

“Sex tapes?!” Rogers choked on his burger.

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You said you saw footage!” Tony protested.  “It wasn’t the sex tapes?”

“It was you at a party drunk in your Iron Man suit!” Rogers snapped back.

“Ah,” Tony frowned, “that footage.  You mean SHIELD showed you footage of when I was suffering heavy metal poisoning, had impaired judgement, and had a little spider on my shoulder encouraging me into bad behaviour?  That footage.”

Natasha looked unrepentant.

“What heavy metal poisoning?” asked Rogers, frowning.

“From my arc reactor,” Tony tapped his chest.

“That wasn’t in your file,” Rogers said.  “Why did you put that in your chest if it was going to give you heavy metal poisoning?”

It wasn’t only Tony who reacted to Rogers’ lack of knowledge about his arc reactor.  Both Hill and Natasha turned disbelieving eyes on the Captain.

“Now I know how Stark got the arc reactor was in the file,” Hill stated crisply.

“Somebody messed with the file,” Natasha said.

“Somebody wanted us at odds,” Tony said.  “Why is obvious.”

“Not to me,” Rogers said, wiping his hand on a napkin. 

Tony had just taken the final bite of his burger. 

Natasha took pity on him.  “Stark is Howard’s son; he’s your most natural ally.  It was a Stark funded expedition which found you, although SHIELD immediately took over the recovery.  He has enough money and connections to ensure you could make your own choices about what to do in this time.”

“And yet somebody set it up so you’d dislike him before you even met him,” Hill concluded, throwing her napkin onto her empty plate. 

“Most people dislike me once they meet me,” Tony felt compelled to point out with a look at Natasha.

“I was under orders to write that assessment a certain way,” Natasha said, crossing her arms, “Fury didn’t want you…” her eyes widened.

“Yeah, maybe Fury didn’t want me for reasons other than the ones we might have believed,” Tony said tightly.

“An intelligence agency which doesn’t like intelligence,” Rogers said, repeating Tony’s own words on the helicarrier.  “Fury wanted you at a safe distance.”

“He was protecting me,” Tony said, feeling uncomfortably emotional about that.

“So why is he so keen to have me join SHIELD?” asked Rogers, frowning.

Natasha frowned.  “He isn’t,” she said, “it’s Alexander Pierce who’s set on the idea.  Fury sent me because Pierce was making noises about sending someone to bring you in.”

“By force?” questioned Tony worriedly.

“No,” Natasha shook her head slowly, “I don’t think so.” She sighed.  “Fury’s orders were to make sure you had time to consider everything and get you acclimatised to the future.  He was concerned that the briefing you’d had wasn’t comprehensive.”

“I didn’t get any briefing about the future,” Rogers said.  “I mean, I got a file with a list of historical events but that was it.”

Tony stared at him in shock. “That’s…that’s even worse than trying to give you a biased file on me.  How are you meant to adjust to the future if you don’t know anything about it?”

“He’s not,” Hill stated brusquely.  “Someone wants Captain America isolated, misinformed and vulnerable.” She nodded at Natasha.  “Fury sent you to protect Rogers.”

“And you to protect Stark,” Natasha said, “AIM almost killed him and took him out of the game completely; that can’t be a coincidence.”

“Right,” Tony shook his head, trying to comprehend the conspiracy they had uncovered, “so if you’re protecting Cap and Hill’s protecting me, who’s protecting Fury?”

Rogers straightened.  His blue eyes glinted with determination.  “The Avengers.”  He nodded at Tony.  “Let’s get the team assembled.”

o-O-o

“Why are you both dressed like extras from Men in Black?” Tony asked, walking into the living area of the hotel suite.  He was impressed that they’d actually found a suit for Rogers which fit him.  But that didn’t explain why Natasha was also in a black pantsuit.   

“Men in what?” asked Rogers.

“It’s a movie about a secret agency dealing with aliens…”

“Later,” Hill cut him off briskly.  “They’re attending the gala as your bodyguards.” She put a small pistol into a gold clutch bag.  It matched the gold Paisley embroidery of her tasteful mid-length cocktail dress and matching gold sandals.

Tony frowned and stroked a hand over his Armani tuxedo.  “I don’t need bodyguards.”

“You need a babysitter,” Hill remarked.

Natasha glared at him.  “Bodyguards will get us into the White House gala with you.”

“Everybody knows Happy is my only bodyguard,” protested Tony.

“Apart from the fact that Happy is currently recovering from almost dying and is on the West coast, Happy is not your bodyguard anymore,” Natasha said, as she strapped on a watch, “he was never a good bodyguard to begin with.”

Tony wanted to bristle with indignation, but he hadn’t chosen Happy to be his bodyguard because he was good at it.  He’d chosen Happy because the other man had rescued him from a brawl, helped get him home and had turned down any kind of reward. 

“Then why did he get the job?” asked Rogers, unexpectedly.

“I trust Happy,” Tony said shortly.

Rogers raised an eyebrow. “That was the only requirement you had?”

“You’re lucky Rhodes made him attend all the security courses,” Natasha said briskly. She handed Rogers an ear-communication device. 

Rogers grimaced.  “I can hear you without it.”

“Humour me,” Natasha said impatiently, “you can switch it off.”  She tossed one to Tony who frowned at the fact it wasn’t his tech. 

“You could have asked me to supply the equipment,” Tony grumbled.

“But then you would have had notice that Steve and I are coming with you,” Natasha said.

“Why are you coming with me again, and please,” Tony stressed the word, “don’t pretend that I actually need bodyguards, even Obie didn’t think I needed a bodyguard.”

“Obadiah Stane who wanted you dead didn’t think you needed a bodyguard,” Hill stated dryly.  “There’s a surprise.”

“Who’s Obadiah Stane?” asked Rogers, almost raising his hand as though they were in kindergarten.

Hill scowled ferociously.  “When we get back from this gala, I am going to hand you a laptop with all the files you should have received and you will read all of them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rogers said quietly.

“You’ve had a laptop prepared already?” Natasha questioned.

Hill shrugged.  “Coulson had one prepared.”

Natasha’s expression smoothed into one of understanding.  “Right.”  She checked her watch.  “We should leave.”

“We’re not leaving until someone answers my previous question about why you’re coming with me,” Tony made a point of sitting down on a nearby chair as though to underscore his point.

“We’ll be late,” Hill protested unhappily.

“I’m always late,” Tony said.

Natasha heaved a sigh and glared at Tony.  “You’re going to have a quiet word with the President about the Avengers and New York.”

“Yes,” Tony said impatiently.

“We need to present a united front to the President,” Natasha said, “if you do it alone, it’s you, but if you, Steve and I are all there…”

“It looks like a team thing,” Tony concluded.  He gave a sharp nod and stood up.  “Fine.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes on him.  “You’re not arguing.”

“I don’t argue about everything,” Tony argued.

Rogers pinched the brow of his nose.  “Can we just go?”

“No,” Tony said firmly, “I think we need to talk about this before we all three get in front of a President and pretend we’re a united front.”

Natasha and Rogers both stiffened in front of him.

Tony repressed the urge to push his hand through his hair – it had taken him ages to style it – and instead focused on his teammates.  He searched for inspiration on how to begin.  He threw Hill a look and got one back that said it was all up to him.  He rolled his eyes.

Fine.

“Look,” Tony said, “we didn’t have the best start here.  You,” he pointed at Natasha, “were sent into spy on me when I was dying, push me into an even greater position of vulnerability so SHIELD could take advantage of me, and you’ve made no secret that you don’t like me.” 

Even if she’d been ordered to write the assessment a certain way, Tony figured she’d meant a good eighty per cent of what she’d written.

“And that’s fair, I admire your chutzpah and your skills, but I don’t like you either,” Tony continued.

Natasha’s expression remained aloof; her arms were crossed, her body tense.

He turned to Rogers.  “Someone clearly wanted us at odds.”

Rogers frowned but nodded.

“And we had a few moments there,” Tony waved his hand, “things were said on both sides.”

Rogers nodded again and looked chagrined.

“Someone manipulated how we view each other, how we were always going to view each other,” Tony stated bluntly, “now I don’t know about you, but I don’t like that.  I don’t like someone else setting up how I’m supposed to feel about someone, whether I’m supposed to like or dislike someone.”

“I don’t like it either,” Rogers stated firmly, his hand balling into a fist at his side.

“If we let our relationships to date dictate how we treat each other going forward, we’re letting them win,” Tony said.

Natasha’s expression finally flickered at that.

Hill cleared her throat.  “He has a point.”

Rogers and Natasha exchanged a brief glance and Natasha cocked an eyebrow at Rogers. 

“What do you suggest?” asked Rogers, sighing.

“Clean slate,” proposed Tony quickly, “we try as much as we can to focus on building a relationship now.” He gestured at them both.  “We agree we won’t let past commentary or actions to colour how we proceed going forward.”

“That’s not going to be easy,” Rogers commented.

Tony held his gaze.  “I’m willing to try.  How about you?”

Rogers pressed his lips together and put his hand out to shake.  “Steve Rogers.”

Tony reached across the space between them and took Rogers’ hand.  “Tony Stark.”

“Clean slate?” Rogers checked.

“Clean slate,” Tony confirmed.

“Then call me Steve,” Rogers – Steve said.  He turned and looked expectantly at Natasha.

Natasha sighed and gestured at Tony.  “I’m willing to give it a shot.”  Her chin nudged up a touch in challenge. Are you, her eyes demanded.

“That’s all I ask,” Tony said, “let’s give it a shot.”

Natasha nodded.  “I’m not shaking your hand.”

“No hug?” Tony quipped.

“Can we go now?” asked Hill.

The gala was at the White House and so traffic was a nightmare.  There was plenty of time to work out a plan for their time with the President in the back of the limo.  Getting inside the White House had a few hiccups since the Secret Service frowned heavily at Tony’s entourage.

Tony introduced Hill as his assistant, waved off Natasha and Steve as bodyguards with a joke.  Once they were through the door, he glad-handed enough Senators and Congressmen, lobbyists and military generals that he felt his smile beginning to hurt.

He finally got across the room to Rhodey.

The two of them ignored everyone around them and hugged each other hard and for what was probably a tad too long in public.

Rhodey cupped the back of his head and examined his face; Tony knew his friend was seeing below the make-up to the bruises beneath.  “It’s good to see you, Tony.”

“You saw me on a video-chat yesterday when you called to thank me for sending you the upgraded War Machine,” Tony remarked, but his hand remained on Rhodey’s shoulder.  They might have talked to each other but the last time they’d seen in each other in person had been just before they’d split up to rescue the President and Pepper.

“Pepper OK?” asked Rhodey.

“Doing better,” Tony said simply.

Rhodey let go of him with reluctance.  His eyes widened at the sight of Tony’s companions.

“Bodyguards,” Tony stated firmly, “they insisted.”

“Good,” Rhodey said, “it’s time someone did.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Tony protested again, picking up a flute of champagne. 

“You need a babysitter,” Rhodey said.

“That’s what I said,” Hill plucked the champagne from his fingers and replaced it with a glass of orange juice she placed on the table in front of him.  He grimaced and picked up the juice.

Rhodey nudged him.  “Come on,” he said, “I got your message.”

Rhodey led them through the gala ballroom, through a door, down a corridor and into a small beautifully appointed room.

Steve gave an appreciative hum and glanced around awestruck by the art.  Natasha rolled her eyes and did the job of checking out the room for bugs and surveillance with Hill.

“Tony,” Rhodey prompted with an elbow to his ribs.  The elbow was gentle because Rhodey knew he was hurt.  “Introductions.”

“Captain Rogers,” Tony said, “Colonel James Rhodes, United States Air Force.”  He waved a hand back and forth between them as they shook hands.  “Rhodey, Cap.” He gestured at Natasha.  “You know Natasha.  Well, you knew her as Natalie, but her name is Natasha.”

Rhodey nodded at them.  “It’s good to meet you.”  He turned to Tony.  “Does this mean…”

The door opened and Matthew Ellis walked in followed by his Secret Service agents and Chief of Staff.

“Tony!” Ellis greeted him like an old friend, even if they’d only met a few times previously.  “It’s good to see you looking so well!  And, thank you,” he stopped shaking Tony’s hand long enough to make sincere eye-contact, “thank you for helping to save me.”

Tony waved off the gratitude.  “I’m just pleased we were able to get to you in time, Mr President.”

“Rhodes told me you’d asked for a few minutes?” asked Ellis briskly.

“Yes,” Tony motioned at his bodyguards.  “I don’t think you’ve met my protection detail this evening?  Captain America and Black Widow?”

The President’s face lit up with glee and he happily shook hands.  Captain America was everyone’s favourite.

Tony nodded at Steve.

Steve cleared his throat.  “The reason why we wanted your time, sir, is to ask for your support as we establish the Avengers.”

“The Avengers?” asked the President with a frown.

“Our team, sir,” Steve said.  “We fought together against the aliens in New York.”

Ellis sat on the arm of a sofa and waved them all to sit.  “My focus is cleaning up terrorism, son.  Aliens isn’t something that the public is interested in.”

“The idea of the Avengers is to fight against threats which our regular law enforcement cannot handle,” Tony jumped in, “both Earthly and, if necessary, alien.”  He gestured.  “I know I could have done with Captain America and Black Widow in that fight with Killian.  Exploding people who can create fire, breathe fire…” he shook his head, “how are normal law enforcement meant to handle that?  Both Rhodey and I barely managed.”

“I can’t say you’re wrong and a team who could handle it would be appreciated as we tackle this threat,” Ellis admitted thoughtfully.  “But I’m not sure I like the idea of an agency like SHIELD fielding a team of…of superheroes.”

“We can fix that,” Tony said quickly, “I’d already started building an independent funding framework, we can create a similar legal framework.”

“What about the WSC?” asked the Chief of Staff, a woman with a sharp grey bob.  “Don’t they have oversight here?”

“They also sent a nuclear bomb into New York,” Tony shrugged.  “I’m not sure where the investigation got to on that, but I think the Avengers should have a more transparent oversight.  Maybe the U.N. or something linked to the Hague.”

“Well, you have my support,” Ellis said, standing again and making ready to leave.

“Thank you, Mr President,” Steve said warmly.

Tony and the others parroted the same; hands were shook, shoulders were clasped.  The President was hurried out and back to the gala.

“You have to stay?” asked Tony, turning to Rhodey.

Rhodey shook his head.  “They already did the speech and the photo op.”  His eyes landed on Tony accusingly.  “You were late and missed it.”

“I didn’t know they’d do it up front!” Tony denied.  “If I’d known I’d have been there.”

Rhodey hummed in disbelief and Tony gave a sigh of acknowledgement that he wouldn’t have been there even if he’d known.  He barely turned up for his own award ceremonies. 

“You want to bail?” asked Tony hopefully.

“Sure,” Rhodey said, turning towards the door.  “Hey, do you know where to get a good burger?  I’m starving.  You should have seen the tiny crap they served.”

o-O-o

The diner was just as good late at night as it had been in the middle of the day.  They took a three-sided booth at the back; Tony and Rhodey together, with Hill and Natasha on one side and Steve on the other.

Tony wasn’t surprised when Steve ordered another burger and fries.  He figured super-soldier metabolism probably meant an enormous need for calories. The scientist in him itched to question Steve, but if his years at MIT had taught him anything, it was that a barrage of never-ending and invasive questions was not a way to win friends.

They brought Rhodey fully up to date on their suspicions about SHIELD and the WSC; about getting the team back together.

“So,” Rhodey wrapped his hands around his burger, “you’re going to set up the Avengers as some kind of independent team separate to SHIELD?”

Tony forked up some pie and nodded.  “Probably set-up the whole thing as a non-profit organisation on its own.”

“Were you serious about transparent oversight?” asked Hill.

Tony nodded.  “I’m not sure how we’re going to go about that or actually any of it yet.  We need recognition internationally if we’re going to be crossing borders or liaising with local law enforcement…there are a whole set of issues we need to address.”

“I’m not keen on some third-party having oversight of us,” Steve said, scooping up some fries.  “They might end up dictating what we do, where we can go…”

“But not having any oversight is arrogant, Captain,” Rhodey said, “all members of the military are expected to provide After Action Reports, submit themselves to investigation or stand in front of a civilian committee and explain what happened if their actions are questionable.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said, a touch chastened. “Would you be willing to spend some time assisting us with procedures, Colonel?”

Tony blinked and marvelled at the fact that Steve was clearly admiring Rhodey, but then kicked himself because…well, Rhodey.  And Steve was military.  Maybe it made sense for Steve to have someone military mentor him and who better than Rhodey?

“I’ll discuss it with my CO but as I’m officially the liaison to this ass,” he gestured at Tony with a fry, “there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Steve smiled, a real genuine smile.  “It’s good to have you on our side, sir.”

“My pleasure, Captain,” Rhodey said, “and you can call me James.”

For a second Steve looked grief-stricken.  “I don’t think I can, sir.”

“The rank or the fact that I share a name with your best buddy?” Rhodey said gently.

“Both, sir,” Steve said.

“As long as you keep the ranks in the field or in front of my men, I’m giving you permission to drop the ranks, Captain.  And my friends who are not Tony call me Jim,” Rhodey offered.

“Thank you,” Steve said, “Jim.”

Tony couldn’t quite hide his immense glee at the exchange. 

“What?” asked Rhodey suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Tony said, “just,” he waved a hand between Rhodey and Steve, “military bro bonding.  I get it.”

Steve rolled his eyes at him. 

“Just because someone respects my rank…” Rhodey began.

“I respect your rank,” protested Tony.

“You have never respected my rank,” Rhodey countered. 

“That’s not…” Tony couldn’t quite lie when Rhodey gave him the look, “that’s somewhat true.  I respect you though!”

“I know,” Rhodey said simply.

“It doesn’t bother you?” Steve blurted out.  He looked horrified that he’d asked such a personal question.

Rhodey looked at Steve.  “Tony isn’t a soldier.  He doesn’t need to respect my rank.” 

Steve looked flustered.

Rhodey put his hand on Tony’s arm before he could speak or say anything.  “Tony’s always been a fighter.  The first time we met I pulled him out of a fist fight with a senior twice his size and with half his intelligence.”

Steve suddenly grinned.  “Sounds like me before I got the serum.”  His eyes met Tony’s and for the first time since they’d met, there was a shining glint of comradeship, of empathy.  “Bucky was always pulling me out of fights.”

“Is that how you became friends with Stark, Rhodes?” asked Hill as though she didn’t already know.

Rhodey nodded.  “I was eighteen.  He was fourteen and a genius who wanted nothing more than to build robots.”

Tony felt a blush rising on his cheeks. 

“Robots,” repeated Natasha sceptically.  “I thought you’d started inventing for Stark Industries when you were ten.”

“Eight,” Tony countered, “Dad said if I was going to be in the lab, I was going to make myself useful.” He shrugged.  “I originally intended to set-up on my own once I was finished with college, but…” he grimaced.

“Your parents died,” Hill supplied for him.

“I guess I’m looking forward to reading your real file,” Steve said.

“A file isn’t going to tell you anything real about Tony,” Rhodey stated bluntly.  “I can tell you that he’s an annoying pain-in-the-ass who is late for everything, barely remembers my birthday, and who is a spoiled rich kid.  But he’s also the best man I know on the face of this planet.” He stared Steve straight in the eye.  “You say you’re wiping the slate clean and putting aside your past preconceptions; that’s good.  Because if you ever give me cause to think that Tony has come to harm under your care, I will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb.   Do you understand me, Captain?”

Steve flushed but he nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

Rhodey’s stern gaze shifted to Natasha.

Natasha sucked up some of her milkshake and waved it at Rhodey.  “I could take you.”

“Hand to hand, sure,” Rhodey said, “but do you really think I’d be stupid enough to go hand to hand when I have the firepower to raze you to the ground without exchanging a single blow?”

“Point,” Natasha said.  She sighed and slumped back.  “I’m not intending to bully your best friend, Rhodes.”

The ‘again’ went unspoken.

“Good,” Rhodey said, “see that you don’t.”

Tony felt torn between absolute joy that Rhodey would stand up for him and embarrassment.  It was the same feeling he’d had when Rhodey had pulled him out of that fight when he was fourteen.

Rhodey glanced over at him and sighed.  He rolled his eyes at him.  “Eat your pie.”

Tony forked some into his mouth and chewed. 

“What about the other members of your team? Where are they on this?” asked Rhodey.

“Clint’s making his way to New York, he’ll meet us there,” Tony informed him, “I’ve sent a message to Bruce, but he’s in Asia so it may take some time for him to get back.” He grimaced.  “I talked to Jane Foster.  She hasn’t heard from Thor and is theorising the BiFrost is broken.”

His phone buzzed and Pepper’s face appeared on the screen. 

“Pepper!” Tony said brightly, answering the phone.

“TONY!” Pepper shouted down the phone.  “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!”

She was cut off abruptly.

“Tones?” Rhodey said already reading the look on Tony’s face.

“The tower’s under attack!” Tony shuffled Steve out of the way.

“I’ll get back-up there,” Hill promised as Tony ran out of the diner already connecting his phone to JARVIS. 

“We’ll follow!” promised Steve.

“JARVIS…”

“I have a suit in-bound to your position, sir, in three, two…”

The familiar noise of the suit had Tony turning automatically so it could wrap around him.  He took off.  He pushed the repulsors.

“Give me more power, JARVIS!” demanded Tony.  “Try to reconnect with Pepper!”

“Trying, sir,” JARVIS stated.  “There is one intruder; he is enhanced with Extremis, sir.  Ms Potts is engaging in hand to hand combat with him within the penthouse.”

Tony’s heart pounded.  His breathing went shallow.  “Security?”

“Security was neutralised, sir,” JARVIS said, “I can only deploy non-lethal measures within the tower; all failed to stop the intruder.”

JARVIS sounded as distressed as Tony felt.

“Remind me to upgrade you when this is over,” Tony promised.  

He shot over the Statue of Liberty with a sonic boom. 

“Uh, sir,” JARVIS said almost hesitantly, “the intruder has been…neutralised.”

“Pepper got him?” Tony felt weak with relief.  He should have known; Pepper was bad ass.  But still, he didn’t wait for the rings, he deployed the eject function and stepped out of the suit as soon as he landed. He ran into the penthouse and stopped at the destruction.

There were scorch marks on the walls; the sofa was cut in two.  The coffee table and sideboard were in pieces.  Most of the drinks in his bar were puddles among smashed glass.

Pepper stood half-naked in the middle of the room.  She wore half-burned off shorts and her bra.  She was hugging Fury’s cat to her.

“Pep?” asked Tony.

Pepper carefully put the cat down and ran to him.

Tony caught her to him.  “It’s OK, it’s OK.”

Pepper hugged him tightly for a long moment.

The sound of another suit landing had them both turning to the balcony entrance. 

Rhodey lifted his faceplate.  “OK, we need to come up with some kind of code so I don’t catch you guys half-naked and…” he waved a hand at their embrace.  “Where’s the intruder?”

“The intruder has been eaten by Goose, Colonel Rhodes,” JARVIS informed them crisply.

Tony and Rhodey exchanged identical looks of bemusement. 

“Excuse me,” Tony said politely, “but what the hell?”

Pepper stepped out of his embrace and picked up the cat.  “He’s right, Tony.”  She hugged the cat to her.  “I was battling the guy and he was good,” she shuddered slightly, “I was losing and then…Goose came in and…well, JARVIS, play back video on the main screen.”

The television flared to life.  Tony watched his heart in his mouth as Pepper fighting a bad guy in a black tactical suit played out on screen; they both glowed orange, both hit hard and fast, but it was clear who had been trained and who had only had regular kick-boxing classes.  The cat wandered in to the far left of the picture and…

Dear God.

Were those tentacles??

Tentacles.

Tentacles which grabbed the intruder, battered him about in a way that reminded Tony of the footage of Hulk and Loki, before…before eating him.

Tony stared at the cat who looked back at him with wide blinking green eyes.  “You’re not a cat.”

“Indeed not, sir,” JARVIS sounded shaken.  “I have completed a full scan of…of Goose and she has no corresponding species on Earth, sir.”

“What does that mean?” asked Rhodey plaintively.

“Fury has an alien cat?” Tony shook his head.  “That’s not the problem we need to focus on right now.”

“It’s not?” asked Rhodey faintly.

“JARVIS,” Tony ordered, “evacuate non-essential personnel from the tower and lock it down.  Eyes up high.  I want to know if we have any approaching helicopters with missiles trained on this building.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS stated.  “NYPD and the fire department are requesting entrance.”

“I’ll help deal with them and the evacuation,” Rhodey said and took off.

Tony approached Pepper carefully.  “You OK?”

“No,” Pepper admitted shakily.  She leaned into him as he wrapped his arms back around her, careful of the cat…cat-tentacle creature thing in her arms.

“JARVIS, bring up video, run facial recognition against every database, you can find,” Tony ordered.

“FRIDAY will take on that task while I see to the security of the tower, sir,” JARVIS informed him.

“FRIDAY?” queried Pepper.

“JARVIS needed some assistance to do the search on SHIELD,” Tony said.

Pepper sighed.  “I’d forgotten about that.”  She shook herself.  “Tony, we need to talk about…”

They were prevented from saying anything else by the appearance of Helen Cho.

“I am not non-essential,” Helen said forcefully.

“You’re not?” Tony quipped before the glare of both his girlfriend and Helen had him shaking his head.  “Of course, you’re not.”

“Pepper, you need to be examined,” Helen said soothingly.  “Come, we will do this in your bedroom.”

Pepper sighed but pushed the cat-thing into Tony’s arms before shuffling off behind Helen.  Tony held Goose at arm’s length before she meowed at him and flicked an ear as though to tell him he was being stupid.

“Fine,” Tony muttered, “just don’t eat me.”

The television screen changed from the end of the fight to show a facial recognition match. 

“Boss,” FRIDAY’s melodic Irish accent drifted into the room, “the intruder was John Haring, a former Navy SEAL and SHIELD agent.  He was injured in an explosion in Taiwan two years ago and lost both legs beneath the knee.  SHIELD gave him a medical discharge.  He is meant to be raising horses in Wyoming.”

“A second set of Extremis soldiers,” Tony concluded, “or what one held back in reserve?  Who’s pulling the strings?”

“I don’t know the answer to those questions, Boss,” FRIDAY said.

“Do not be worried, FRIDAY,” JARVIS asserted before Tony could reply, “Sir will never expect you to know all things.  You will learn and you will find the answers he seeks.”

“Yes, Big Brother,” FRIDAY replied.

“JARVIS is right,” Tony said quickly, “go and dig; let’s see if we can find some answers to what’s going on.  Put the search in the SHIELD data on hold if you need to focus on this.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Sir,” JARVIS broke in, “Colonel Rhodes is requesting your assistance with the Chief of Police and…”

Tony sighed and rubbed his head tiredly.  He looked at the cat.  “I don’t suppose you want to handle this?”

Goose flicked an ear at him. 

Tony sighed and put her down carefully on the better looking half of the destroyed sofa.  “On my way, JARVIS.”

o-O-o

They gathered in the command centre on the communal floor Tony had designed months before.  Steve took an appreciative glance around the high-tech room as he propped the shield up against the wall and took a seat at the table.  Both Hill and Natasha slid into chairs opposite him.  Clint grinned at Tony and took a seat next to Natasha.

Steve was in his Captain America uniform; the SHIELD agents in tactical gear. 

Rhodey entered briskly.  He was in his off-duty uniform of t-shirt and jeans.  He walked in with Pepper who was also in casual wear; she wore sweatpants and a matching hoodie; her feet were adorned with sneakers.  Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail.  She looked beautiful.  Goose followed at her heels.

Helen slid into the last seat; a competent professional with a white coat over the tailored blouse and pants she wore.

Tony signalled for Hill to begin.

“Yesterday’s attack on the tower was AIM,” Hill said crisply, “or what’s left of it.  The President has authorised for the Avengers to root out, destroy or bring to justice the rest of AIM.”

Pepper cleared her throat and tapped the table bringing up a document with a Presidential seal.  “By Presidential Order signed this morning, the Avengers is now recognised as an independent taskforce.  The Order allows that it is expected that it will operate internationally in matters of alien invasion and terrorism, but that agreements must be made with other countries to legitimise this.  The United States is giving full permission for the Avengers to act within its borders in all cases of terrorism, whether domestic or international, supernatural or alien in nature.  The Avengers will work with local and federal law enforcement in the pursuit of justice but can determine lethal force may be applied if necessary.”

“As of yesterday,” Hill continued, “the Avengers is now its own legal entity, registered as a non-profit organisation.  The Presidential Order also covered the permanent transfer of SHIELD agents, codenames Black Widow and Hawkeye, into the Avengers as field operatives.”

Natasha pursed her lips, but Clint gave a sigh, relief on his face. 

Hill continued, “I’ve also been transferred as Head of Operations and Logistics.  Other field operatives for the Avengers are confirmed as Captain America, who is assigned as team leader in the field, Iron Man, who is also assigned as Head of R&D, the Hulk and Thor.”  She paused.  “Iron Patriot…”

“War Machine,” coughed Tony.

“Iron Patriot,” repeated Hill, “has been confirmed as a supporting operative with agreement by the Joint Chiefs.  Doctor Cho has kindly agreed to come on board as Head of Medical.”

“Fury can’t be happy with his people being co-opted,” Rhodey pointed out.

Hill frowned.  “Nobody has been able to make contact with Director Fury for the last twenty-four hours.”

“Another problem,” Clint remarked, his worry betraying itself in the lines which appeared on his face.

“We need more people clearly,” Tony said, “we need procedures, infrastructure…” he sighed, “I’ve provided the seed funding and we can work that out as we go but we need the full works.”

“I’m seconding people from Stark Industries to support the set-up,” Pepper said, “but we can expect this to take time to get everything in place.”

“Time we do not have if we’re going to deal with AIM,” Steve said.

“Exactly,” Tony confirmed, “which is why we’re going to focus on AIM and Pep is going to step in and help SI deal with the rest of it.”

“Thank you, Ms Potts,” Steve said.

Pep smiled grimly.  “Just take the bastards down.”  She got up.  “If you’ll excuse me, there is a lot of work to get through.”  She dropped a kiss on the top of Tony’s head and walked out.

Tony was pleased to see Goose following her.  He trusted the cat-tentacle creature to protect her.

“AIM,” Steve said as the door closed.  “What do we know?”

Tony tapped the table.  “Show us what we’ve got, FRIDAY.”

Immediately the air above the table filled with documents and data; videos and photos. 

“Advanced Idea Mechanics,” began FRIDAY, “was established by Aldrich Killian.”

A photo of the man who had approached Tony so many years before was displayed. 

“The FBI has access to all of Killian’s communications,” JARVIS jumped in, “FRIDAY and I have established a series of communications between Killian and the WSC, notably Alexander Pierce, going back several years.”

“AIM’s records of their volunteers is spotty at best,” Helen said with evident disapproval, “however, Maya Hansen was a scientist at heart and buried in her notes are detailed records.”

“We have identified five missing AIM volunteers,” JARVIS reported.  “All former SHIELD agents.”

Their pictures lined up with a touch of Tony’s hand against the hologram.

“These are the remaining members of STRIKE Team Zulu,” Hill said briskly, “they were all caught in an explosion on a mission in Asia two years ago.  Their team leader was John Haring who…who Goose eliminated yesterday.”

“They were all former Navy SEALs,” Natasha picked up, “but Haring and Connington were dishonourably discharged for conduct unbecoming.  They beat an Afghani translator to death believing him to be a spy.  The others were recruited over a period of time by SHIELD.  All of them were brought in by Agent Jasper Sitwell.”

Hill confidently nudged one of the documents.  “Sitwell referred them to the AIM programme according to Hansen’s records.”

“So we’re against a highly trained team with the ability to regenerate, breathe fire and burn everything they touch to the ground,” Natasha said.

“Not to mention that they can explode at any moment,” Helen said.  She clasped her hands on the table.  “We have a working antidote,” she sighed, “that is; we have a working antidote that worked on the variant of the formula given to Ms Potts and which has worked on ten mice to date.  We have ten pigs currently undergoing the treatment so we can test it works on them.”

“I’ve had darts with the formula fabricated,” Tony said.

“For me?” Clint’s face lit up with delight.

Tony nodded.

Steve tapped his hand on the table.  “It’s experimental but we should use it.  I’d rather neutralise them and bring them to justice than simply kill them.”

Tony breathed out.  “I’ll have them ready,” he promised.  “I, uh, actually have new gear for all of you.”

Steve frowned. “I don’t need…”

“Fire repellent, resistant gear,” Tony stressed.

“I’d take it, I really would,” Rhodey said fervently with the air of man who had fought AIM’s soldiers before.

“I’ll take it,” Natasha said. 

“Me too,” Clint quipped, “burned is not a good look on me.” He glared at Natasha.

“I only burned you once,” Natasha retorted.

“Morocco,” Clint shot back.

“I burned the building,” Natasha claimed breezily.

“I was in the building!” Clint pointed out.

Steve stopped the exchange with a look and turned back to Hill.  “Do we have a location?”

Hill cocked her head. “FRIDAY?”

“I’ve backtracked through all of its acquisitions and holdings,” FRIDAY said proudly, “and one site was buried deep enough to avoid detection and has therefore not been included in the raids by the FBI.”  She displayed it as a hologram. “This is live satellite feed to a compound on the Hudson river.”

“Local then,” Steve said.

“They have two guards,” Natasha noted dispassionately, “the other three are in this building here.” 

“There’s another heat signature,” Tony spotted.  He tapped the image and zoomed.  “Underground in the basement; one person.”

“It looks like a lab,” Helen noted.

“Could be another scientist,” Tony said, “he had to have more than Maya.”

“Six of them,” Steve said, “five of us.” He nodded at Hill.  “You need to stay and run ops here.”

“There are the Iron Men suits I have left,” Tony offered.  “JARVIS can pilot them.”

“Let’s hold them in reserve,” Steve said.

“Any sign of Bruce?” asked Natasha.

Tony shook his head.

“Then we go without him,” Steve knocked his fist on the table, “let’s suit up.”

o-O-o

Tony rolled his eyes when they called the Starkjet a quinjet.  The model was similar but it was much improved and utilised an arc reactor and his repulsor technology.  It took Clint all of five minutes to work out how to fly it.

“I can fly pretty much anything,” Clint said matter-of-factly. 

“He really can,” Natasha said, coming up behind them. 

Tony clapped Clint on the shoulder and slipped out of the co-pilot’s seat to give it to Natasha.  He checked in with Steve as he came aboard.

“All OK, Captain?”

“I’m good, Tony,” Steve replied.  “And thanks,” he brushed a hand over the muted uniform; a dark blue with the white star still in play but the stripes were reduced and there was no mask. 

Tony nodded his acknowledgement of the gratitude.  “I’ll see you there.”  He stepped out and watched as Clint fired up the plane and it took off. 

Tony let the Iron Man suit wrap itself around him.  He exchanged a quick look with Rhodey and they took off together.

Tony kept track of the plane as it set down in the compound itself and fired guns at the gates where the guards were posted.

Natasha and Steve were quickly out of the plane; they engaged two of the Extremis soldiers in the yard, fighting hand to hand.  Clint deplaned and sent his arrows flying.  From the sky, War Machine descended.

Tony ignored everything to make his way into the building itself.  His target was inside.  He manoeuvred the suit into the elevator shaft and flew down.  He blasted the doors open and flew down the corridor.

“JARVIS?” Tony checked he was reading the scans correctly.

“One life sign, sir,” JARVIS confirmed, “behind the double doors in front of you.”

A short repulsor blast had him through the doors.

Tony stopped in the doorway and hovered briefly in his red and gold suit before landing.

The scientist stood in front of him in the centre of the lab.  To their left, a bank of monitors showed the battle outside; Captain America and War Machine were fighting two of the soldiers; Natasha was fighting back to back with another; Clint had neutralised two of the Extremis soldiers with the antidote darts and was running to help her.

To Tony’s left there were a bank of pods with medical equipment lined up beside them.  He grimaced recognising that he had seen photos of the things in Maya’s research. 

Computers took up another wall.  Two lab tables one behind the scientist and one in front were filled with the debris of a working scientist; test tubes, microscopes, petri dishes…there was even a Bunsen burner.

Tony took it all in with one sweep of the room and his eyes landed on the scientist…

“Aldrich Killian,” Tony said with a frown.

The long-haired, bespectacled man nodded.  He grinned crookedly and leaned on his cane.  “Hello, Tony.”

Tony grimaced inside the helmet as he put it altogether.  “The other guy was an actor just like the Mandarin.”

Killian shrugged his shoulders.  “He was good, wasn’t he?  He had to undergo a few plastic surgeries to emulate me perfectly.  Or rather emulate everything I always wanted to be.”  He sighed.  “I was disappointed to lose such a valuable asset.”

“Well, the game is up,” Tony declared.  “We’ll place you in custody until…”

Killian laughed; a high-pitched crazy laugh which grated over Tony like nails on a chalkboard.  “Do you think me so foolish as to be without any plan?”  He held up a clicker and the monitors all changed to videos of Pepper being injected with Extremis.  “I knew you’d never let her die, Tony.”

Tony’s breath froze in his veins.  “She’s safe from you now.”

“Is she?” Killian smiled again, showing his ugly teeth.  “Watch the monitor.”

Tony looked at it unwillingly.  He watched as in the video footage the false Killian took a small device and sucked it into syringe; as he injected it into Pepper’s shoulder.

No.

“A tiny digital chip,” Killian informed him coldly, “it will cause her to begin to heat up and explode.”  He wiggled the remote in his hand.  “I just need to press the button.”

Tony muted the speaker on the helmet.  “JARVIS?”

“Agent Hill is informing Doctor Cho,” JARVIS confirmed, although the voice of his AI had a tremor of worry.

“Start scanning for the frequency that thing is on, see if you can block it,” Tony ordered. 

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said.

Tony repressed the urge to just repulsor Killian.  He had to get the remote away from the man.  He reengaged the speaker.  “What do you want, Killian?”

“What does anyone want?” Killian spread his arms wide, revealing the ratty t-shirt he wore under the white coat.  “To be perfect.”  He shook his head.  “Poor Maya.  She could never get her formula right.  But you…” he wagged a finger at Tony, “I knew you would be able to fix it.” He waved a hand to the monitor.  “You just needed the right incentive.”

“I am going to kill you,” Tony promised. 

“But not today,” Killian said and slapped his hand down on a keyboard.

An EMP went through the room like a shockwave.

“Sir…” JARVIS’ voice went dead in his ear.  The voices of the other Avengers went silent.

Tony felt the armour seize and he hit the manual eject button.  He stumbled out into the semi-dark lab, lit up with neon blue emergency lighting.  The bank of monitors were dead. 

Killian had a gun in his hand; an old-fashioned pistol.  “You’re going to come with me,” he said, “you’re going to take me back to your tower and hand over the formula you’ve perfected.”

Tony smiled and he was pleased to see it disconcerted Killian.  He’d already proven to himself that he didn’t need the suit.  He was Iron Man, with or without it.  He was also a fucking genius who knew that the EMP had taken down the remote Killian was threatening Pepper with when he’d taken down the Iron Man suit.

“Not today,” Tony said and threw a test tube filled with liquid at him.

Killian actually squealed, but he did respond, firing the weapon.

Tony ducked, rolling across the floor and the gunshot hit the wall.  Tony was already moving.  He threw a petri dish.

Killian was moving away from him, scrabbling across the floor. 

Another gunshot.

Another miss.

Tony moved and threw the Bunsen burner at him. 

Killian fired again.

The shot grazed Tony on his left bicep.  He grimaced with pain but kept moving, grabbing an IV hook and throwing it like a spear across the room.

Killian ducked and yelped.

The next shot went wild and hit a test tube shattering it.

Tony was almost close enough, but Killian dived behind the table…

Tony jumped up onto the table, kicking everything in Killian’s direction…

Killian shot again.

Tony lurched to avoid getting hit again…and jumped…

He tackled Killian…

Killian pistol-whipped him with the gun and tried to aim…

Tony grabbed Killian’s arm and wrestled it up…

Another shot went into the ceiling.

Killian kneed Tony in his leg…his still healing leg…

Tony let go just enough for Killian to hit him again in the head with the heel of the gun…

Killian tried to scramble away…tried to take aim…

Tony thumped him hard…he grabbed the Bunsen burner from the floor, hurling it at Killian…

He darted back out of Killian’s range, threw himself over the lab table…and pushed the gas open…

as Killian shot again…

Tony dived, pulling a pod over him…

And the room exploded.

Sprinklers came on immediately.

Tony pushed the pod off him.   He coughed, and spluttered.  His head hurt.  His arm hurt.  His knee hurt.

Again.

“Come on,” Clint was suddenly beside him, “let’s get you out of here.” 

Tony felt himself hauled up with surprising ease but then Clint had to be strong to pull the bow weight he did.  They stepped over the dead charred body of Killian and Tony felt his stomach churn.

“Do not throw up on me,” Clint said forcefully.  “You vomit, I vomit; it won’t be pretty.”

“Wait,” Tony said as Clint made to move him past the stationary Iron Man.  He pressed a hidden button.  “We should go quickly.”

“Self-destruct?” Clint asked even as he started hurrying Tony towards the stairs. 

It took more time than Tony liked before he heard the boom, but he and Clint were half-way to the surface and almost out.

They broke into the sunshine and Tony gulped in air.

“Tony!” Rhodey was beside him in an instant and helped to take the weight on Tony’s other side.

“You lose your suit?” asked Steve, walking over.  He looked crisply perfect; just the faint hint of a brow sweat and a scorch mark on the shield.

“I don’t need the suit,” Tony said.  “I beat the guy.”

“Yeah,” Clint said dryly, “you know how to blow things up.”

“It’s a useful skill,” Tony said as they made for the plane.  Cars were beginning to arrive; black sedans.   

“Uh-huh,” Clint said, “but we’re going to need to work on your hand to hand.”

Tony grimaced.  He glanced around.  “We get them all?”

“Three dead; two neutralised with the antidote,” Natasha fell into step beside them.  She tossed him an ear-piece.   He put it in hastily.  “Hill?”

“Pepper’s in with Cho, they’ve removed the chip and they’re going ahead with the antidote now,” Hill replied in his ear crisply.  “The FBI should be on site with you now.  They’ll handle clean-up.”

Tony turned to Rhodey.  “Can you head back?  Check on Pepper?”

“Consider it done,” Rhodey said and he took off.

Tony allowed Clint to pull him into the plane and sit him down for medical care while Steve and Natasha liaised with the FBI.  The archer was surprisingly good at field dressing.  He patted Tony on the shoulder and headed for the pilot’s chair just as Steve and Natasha came on board.

The plane ride was short, but it felt like a lifetime.  Tony staggered out.  He didn’t wait for the others.  He limped, hurrying as best he could through the tower to the medical centre.

Pepper was in one of the medical rooms, sat on a bed, talking with Rhodey and Helen.  She saw him and…

They were both moving.

They caught each other in the middle of the room. 

Tony hugged her to him before pulling back to examine her.  “Are you…”

Pepper kissed him.  “You fixed me.”

Tony kissed her again, uncaring of the audience of Avengers behind him; Steve blushing, Natasha and Clint smirking…

Pepper pulled away enough to frown at his bruises.  She shook her head, but she didn’t say anything.  She just carefully kissed the bruise on his cheek; carefully kissed the cut on his forehead. 

“Next time,” Pepper said, “try not to lose the suit.”  She smiled at him.  “OK, Iron Man?”

“OK,” Tony said and kissed her again.

Mid-credit scene

“…and Mr Hogan has confirmed transport has been arranged for…” Hill checked her notes, “DUM-E, U and Butterfingers?”

“My bots,” Tony said without taking his eyes off the armour wiring he was tweaking.

“Note to self, never let Stark name anything,” Hill said.

“Don’t you think you should call me Tony now?” He asked, putting down the screwdriver and picking up a rag to wipe his fingers.

Hill blinked at him.  “I’m Maria…”

Tony tried to hide the flinch at the sound of his Mom’s name, but he knew she’d caught it.

“But you can call me Agent,” Hill concluded evenly.

They shared a look of complete understanding.

“Thank you,” Tony said grandly.

Hill nodded.  “Have you thought any more about the proposal Helen made to get rid of your arc reactor?”

Tony shook his head and threw the rag down.  He was tempted but it was a dangerous operation and it would mean an extensive reconstruction of his torso.  It would mean weeks if not months of post-operative care and he wasn’t sure they had that time.  Another week had gone by without any word from Fury.

“Pep and I are debating the pros and cons,” he replied. 

“Boss,” FRIDAY cut in tentatively, “I’ve found something you and the others should see ASAP.”

“Immediately, sir,” JARVIS said.

They gathered back in the control centre. 

Pepper joined them, dressed in a smart green dress and matching heels; her hair pinned back into a French pleat.

Steve stood on one side of the table; Natasha beside him; Clint beside her.  Hill, Cho and Pepper took the other side of the table with Tony next to Pepper.  Rhodey had gone back to his usual duty and was missing.  Goose jumped up into the seat at the head of the table; nobody argued with her.

“Show us what you got, FRIDAY,” Tony instructed.

The holotable lit up and the space above filled with pictures and documents.

“What are we looking at?” asked Steve, his brow creasing.  He frowned and pointed at a picture.  “That’s Armin Zola.”

“Operation Paperclip,” JARVIS said, “Armin Zola was given a position within SHIELD after the war.”

Steve glowered.  “What?!”

“It was a mistake,” FRIDAY said, “Zola worked with others to destroy SHIELD from the inside…”

The holotable image changed to one floating symbol in mid-air.  Goose gave an angry meow.

“HYDRA,” Steve snarled.

Pepper slid closer to Tony and he put his arm around her, pulling her closer into the curve of his own body.

“Oh my God,” Natasha murmured.  She turned alarmed eyes on Clint.  “Fury…”

“He’s not HYDRA!” Hill protested.

“No,” Natasha said, “but if he found out…”

“He’d go to ground,” Hill said firmly.

Tony sent her a searching look.  Did Hill know where Fury was?

“We’ll find him,” Clint promised Natasha.  “And we’re going to root HYDRA out of SHIELD.”

Natasha laid a hand on Steve’s arm.  “We’re going to have to be clever about this, Steve.  Marching into SHIELD with a full-frontal assault isn’t the way to do this.”

“There are countless agents who are SHIELD not HYDRA,” Clint said, “we have to protect them.”

Steve nodded.  “Fine, but we are taking them down.”

They all nodded.

“Who are we taking down?”

The gruff voice by the door had them all turning.

Bruce Banner waved at them sheepishly.  “Hey, guys,” he said, “what did I miss?”

Post-end credit scene

“Any sign of Fury?” asked Alexander Pierce as he strode down the corridor to the elevator.

Jasper Sitwell shook his head, trying to walk fast enough to keep pace without looking as though he was hurrying.  “There’s no sign of him.”

“Issue the warrant for his arrest,” Pierce said calmly, “and make the announcement that I will assume his responsibilities until a permanent appointment has been made.”

“Yes, sir,” Jasper replied immediately. 

They entered the elevator and Pierce retrieved a key which he slot into a hidden compartment which also contained the button for the sub-basement floor they were headed towards.

“Have you been able to discuss retrieving the agents who have been assigned to the Avengers with the President?” Jasper asked.  Losing Hill, Romanoff and Barton wasn’t ideal.  They were three of Fury’s closest allies and three of the best operatives they had.  Jasper was already struggling with the operational paperwork with Maria’s absence.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Pierce’s face.  “He’s adamant that the transfers remain in place.”  He shrugged.  “The timing is wrong to deal with them now.  The press conference Stark organised got the Avengers goodwill with the public, taking down Killian and the Extremist soldiers got them the ear of the President.  We’ll need to move carefully.”

“Of course, sir,” Jasper said.

“Don’t worry,” Pierce said, “they’ll make mistakes and when they do, we’ll be there to capitalise on them.”

The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open.

Jasper followed Pierce into another dimly corridor.  “Our agents in London are reporting Doctor Selvig is acting strangely and talking of how the Tesseract spoke to him about a convergence?”

“Get him picked up and committed to a mental institution,” Pierce ordered.  “The man’s exposure to the energy of the Tesseract and the sceptre may prove useful in the future.”

“I’ll get it done, sir,” Jasper promised.  He’d always thought it was foolish how Fury had let both Selvig and Barton go without extensive tests.

Pierce turned a corner and they went through a set of double doors into a large lab, teeming with scientists.  There were guards posted all around the room. 

Jasper felt his heart start to race as he took in the large capsule, clouds from the liquid nitrogen rolling around it and giving it an eerie air.

“Come, Jasper,” Pierce said with a sly smile, “come and meet our greatest Asset.”

Jasper stepped forward as the clouds dissipated enough to reveal the glass which made up the front of the capsule.

The frozen man inside was handsome in a way Jasper could only wish to be; clean almost delicate features, dark shoulder length hair, the hint of rubble across his jawline.  His body was compact, muscular; shorter than Jasper had expected.  It was encased in nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans.  But it was the left arm which drew the attention; the glinting metallic limb gleamed with its blood red star on the upper arm.

Jasper took an excited breath. 

It was true.

The legends and the stories were all true.

The Winter Soldier was real.      

“Get him out,” Pierce commanded and grinned.  “Wipe him clean.”

fin.