Story Info
Title: Worthy
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Avengers (MCU)
Timeline: before and during ‘Avengers: Age of Ultron’
Genre: General, humor
Rating: K+ / FRC
Characters: FRIDAY, Tony Stark (Iron Man), Thor, Tony’s bots (DUM-E and U), Vision.
Summary: There were a couple instances when Tony’s creations were more worthy than him.
Complete. Part of “Genius, AI & Bots” series.
Warnings: Language
Disclaimer: Iron Man, Avengers and Marvel Cinematic Universe, including characters and everything else, belong to Marvel, Marvel Studios, Jon Favreau, Joss Whedon, Shane Black, Kenneth Branagh, Alan Taylor, Paramount Pictures and Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures. In short: I own nothing; this is pure fiction created to entertain likeminded fans for no profit whatsoever.
Beta: Mythra (
mythras-fire)
Story and status: Below you see the writing process of the story. If there is no text after the title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.
Worthy
~ ~ ~
Worthy
The bots are cleaning up the workshop as per Tony’s instructions; You is in charge of sweeping the floors while Dummy is clearing up the clutter on various workstations.
Tony is busy on the other side of the room, going over new gear designs with Thor. The Asgardian doesn’t rely as much on Tony’s work as the rest of the team, but there are bits and pieces that he shares with the others - like the comms. The electric nature of the thunder god’s power puts communication devices to the test, but Tony has been doing a lot of research on that front to work out the kinks.
While the men are busy with their fitting and testing, the bots keep moving across the workshop, steadily making their way through it as they proceed from one speck of dirt and cluttered tabletop to the next. It’s a process they are familiar with, and need very little supervision doing; every tool has its own place, and for the most part they can tell when something should not be thrown away or sorted for recycling.
Dummy halts in front of one table, regarding the item on top of it with slight hesitation. The bot chirps, attracting the attention of his twin, and You joins Dummy.
They consider it some more before Dummy makes a dismissive sound and reaches out to pick up the foreign item placed on the table. Lifting it up with minor difficulty, Dummy rotates and gently lowers the item to the floor, off the tabletop where it doesn’t belong.
You makes a comment in the form of a bleep, releases the broom and reaches down to shift the item to make it less in the way of his cleaning.
It is half an hour later when Thor is done and returns to retrieve his belongings. “Odd,” he muses.
“What?” Tony asks.
Thor bends down to pick something up from the floor. “I could have sworn I left Mjolnir on the table.” Then he shrugs and bids Tony farewell, exiting the workshop.
- - -
Tony is finishing another day at the old-Stark-storage-facility-turned-new-Avengers-base. The modifications are almost done, and Tony is glad because his days working there have been long and he could use some downtime.
He passes one of the many semi-empty hallways that are still awaiting their final makeover when he spots something peculiar: Vision and his Mark 45 armor.
At first all he registers is the surprising concept of the two of them hanging out. It’s logical that they would be curious about each other, though, with FRIDAY being J.A.R.V.I.S.’s replacement and the origin of Vision closely related to the AI formerly in control of Tony’s suits.
Then he notices the hammer, and his heart almost skips a beat: Vision is holding Thor’s hammer, the android’s arm slightly extended as if in offering. The armor responds in kind, accepting the magical weapon, and for all that Tony is expecting it, the armor’s grip doesn’t falter nor does the hammer crash to the floor.
Mark 45 holds up the weapon as if not knowing it shouldn’t be possible, and Vision smiles.
Barely recovered, Tony gets a terrible idea.
“Hi, guys,” he calls out, approaching. As he does, the two look at him, but the hammer remains within the suit’s grip. Like the elevator, Tony tells himself.
“Boss,” FRIDAY greets.
“Tony,” Vision nods his head.
“Can I…?” Tony asks, gesturing at the hammer.
The AI within the armor complies, turning towards him and offering the hammer.
Tony’s hands grow clammy as he prepares to accept it, anticipation tightening his chest. It vanishes just as fast, replaced by pain as the armor lets go and the hammer’s weight threatens to dislocate his fingers.
Just as Tony wasn’t able to lift it before, he can no better hold it up this time. The toes of his left foot almost get squished as the weapon crashes down.
“Okay,” Tony mutters when he looks down at the hammer, then reaches down to grip the handle again to see if that will work.
It doesn’t. The hammer doesn’t budge, and Tony knows when to stop trying.
Time for Plan B.
“FRIDAY, open up,” he orders, and the armor unfolds at the front to let him in, then closes once he’s in position. “Let’s try this again,” he declares and flexes the armor’s fingers before reaching for the hammer once more.
He’s fully expecting it to work this time around, yet finds himself tugging at an immovable object. Tony keeps trying far longer than is productive; he knows the armor could do it on its own, so why can’t he?
“Vision, give me a hand,” he finally requests.
“The end result will still be the same,” Vision declares, but indulges Tony’s pigheaded attempts at defeating the ‘worthiness’ rule that comes with the hammer.
Vision’s help makes no difference: the hammer still weighs enough to make the armor’s servos complain before Tony has to admit defeat and spare himself and the armor the pain of sprains and tears.
Hawkeye had it right: it’s a goddamn trick.
The End