Avengers Fic: "Fly Away Home"; Steve/Tony (Stony Bingo 2016!), Parts 1-3
My card:
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Title: “Fly Away Home”
Author: Ivorysilk
Word Count: Approx. 11.5K
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None. This is sort of very loosely movie-verse, because it’s all I know, but is like set in vague!verse, really.
Summary: Five times Tony tries to find his way home.
Author’s Ramble: So, um, I was going to do five good length fics for bingo, and started a bunch of fics (which were not so much with the finishing), and this was going to be for only one of the prompts (guess which one!) but then I ran out of time and panicked, and so ended up converting this into what I like to fondly believe is a five times fic that sort of uses each of the prompts in each of the ficlet sections, so basically, I cheated. I confess to cheating, I acknowledge I cheated, no banner for me (while each ficlet can be standalone, Steve isn’t in the first two at all really, and barely in the third, but I will at least get to say I gave it a try. ☺ Also, I was kind of happy by the fact it sort of worked, so.) Each of the sections does relate to a prompt in the bottom line, and I’ve labeled them for ease.
Also, this is my first ever post in this comm, and also, my first over Steve/Tony fic, and also, this is not beta’d because did I mention the running out of time? I’ll try again in round two! Anyway!
My card is above, and fic is below. Comments and criticisms and the helpful pointing out of embarrassing typos so I can fix them before someone else sees (and until I get this thing properly beta’d and edited, and yes, properly posted with proper links) are all gratefully received.
Big Thanks to hoosierbitch for agreeing to and making time to read this over very quickly at the last moment, even though I literally sent it to her a day late and told her she had like an hour, maybe less. Thank you also to dapperanachronism, who also agreed, very last minute, to read this over for me, with a rather similar last minute right before the deadline time constraint. They are the best, and all mistakes are mine; their suggestions were extremely kind and helpful.
Additional Thanks to anyone who reads, thank you to all the bingo organizers for doing all the work and letting me play, and thank you for all the people in chat who were and are so kind to a newbie to this comm!
Link to the fic post
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ONE: “(Sub)urban Survival”
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He’s four and three quarters, and that’s what he’d told the kidnapper-lady when she smiled at him and asked, after the boss-kidnapper left and it’s just her and one other one guy who told Tony he could call him Bert. She’s pretty, even with half her face hidden by a mask, with long blonde hair and a broad smile. Tony likes her smile, and when he smiles back she gives him a cookie and tells him to be good and quiet.
Tony isn’t very good at being good or quiet, he knows, but he tries. He always tries really hard, and so he sits in the corner like he’s told, and he beams when the kidnapper-lady tells him he’s doing a good job, even though he already nibbled at the crunchy (but delicious) cookie and it wasn’t very quiet at all. (His dad never thought he was quiet enough, even though he usually tried to be extra-quiet around his dad, and he was never allowed anything to eat, particularly not anything crunchy.) The kidnappers don’t even seem to mind that he’s spilled some crumbs, telling him he’s doing great. Bert ruffles his hair and calls him kid, tells him they could play some ball later.
Tony has never played ball. He doesn’t know what it is, and the kidnapper laughs when he says so; tells him he’ll teach him.
The kidnappers are nicer than he’d expected. His father had told him once that when (not if) he was kidnapped he is to say nothing and wait quietly until he’s rescued, but that it would be better if he could get out of there himself. His security detail just tells him not to make anyone upset, and to follow a complicated protocol with a bunch of different scenarios that Tony didn’t really pay much attention to, because Superfriends was on in the background. His father gave him lectures about being strong and not crying, but Tony has no desire to cry. He doesn’t mind being here, actually. He likes Bert, and he likes Annie, and he wonders if they’ll let him stay a while.
In the evening, though, the boss-kidnapper came back, and the other two look a bit scared, standing up and pulling Tony to his feet even though he’d been napping. He tries to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“Get him up,” barks the boss. “Stark says he won’t pay, and that the kid’s not his anyway.”
The other two looked confused. “What? Boss, we’re-“
“We’re going to have to convince him. Kid, come here,” snaps the boss, and Tony hangs back near Annie, but she pushes him forward towards the boss-guy, and so he goes reluctantly. “Have you been lying to us, kid? Have you?” yells the boss, and shakes Tony hard.
“I’m not lying!” he shouts. “My name is Anthony Edward Stark!”
The kidnapper-boss lets him go abruptly, and Tony goes sprawling. Annie immediately goes to him, pulling him into her lap and rubbing his back while he cries. “I’m sorry,” he sniffles, trying to stop, “I’m-“
“Well,” says the boss, “I guess we’ll have to convince him of that, won’t we?” His voice doesn’t sound very nice, and Tony begins to get scared again.
“Hank,” says Annie sharply, “I never signed up to hurt no little kids.”
“I never signed up to hurt the kid either,” chimes in Bert. “We were just supposed to take him.”
“Well, the plan’s changed,” barks boss-guy. “We’re gonna send Stark a little message.”
Half an hour later, the polaroid camera is put away and Annie is dabbing a cold cloth against the darkening bruise on Tony’s face. Tony is working hard not to cry-he doesn’t want his father to see any photo of him crying, even when the boss-man had held him up by one arm, twisting it badly, and not letting go until Bert got a good shot, or even when he’d been dropped on the ground-but he is definitely ready to go home. Annie looks sad, like his mother, and Tony is scared and his face hurts. He wants Jarvis. He wants his own room. He doesn’t like it here anymore, and he doesn’t want to play ball either.
“I am Tony Stark,” he tells Annie, when she brings him a dinner he has no wish to eat, swallowing back his tears. “I promise. I don’t-“
“Shhhh,” says Annie. “I know you are. You look just like your photo on the magazine cover.”
“Dad made me sit for it,” says Tony, and then, “Please, I really want to go home,” he whispers to Annie.
“Shhh,” says Annie. “Soon, baby. Soon you’ll be home, and this will all be over.” She holds him and tells him to go to sleep, but he’s cold and scared and can’t sleep.
He falls asleep anyway.
“Howard Stark,” comes his dad’s voice over the speaker phone in the morning, and Tony wakes up with a start. He’s lying on the floor, and so he sits up, pushing back against the wall. His arm hurts a lot, and so does his face and his side. If Jarvis were there, he thinks he’d give Tony some ice for it. But Jarvis isn’t here, and no one here is looking at him.
“Mr. Stark,” says the boss-man. “I left you a message, I hope you received it.”
Tony reminds himself that his dad is smart. He’s always told Tony that if he was kidnapped, someone would come find him. His dad will fix this, and come get Tony.
“And I trust you understood mine,” replies his dad’s tinny voice, altered through the speaker. “That child is not my son, and Stark Industries does not pay ransoms. Kidnapping is a crime, however, as is assaulting a child, and you may rest assured that the authorities will come and find you. Do not contact me again.”
The ringtone is loud in the abrupt silence of the room.
“Now you listen here, Hank,” says Annie in a cold voice. “You will not harm this boy again. It’s not what we signed up for, Bert and I, and you will behave.”
The boss-man sighs, suddenly. “I know, Annie, I know. I’m sorry. I just-what kind of man doesn’t care about his own kid?”
“It’s my fault,” says Tony, in a small voice in the silence that followed. “It’s my fault. I’m not good enough. I--”
“Quiet, kid,” says Bert, but his voice sounds tired and not angry. “So, Boss, what’re we gonna do now?”
“We’ll have to get rid o’ the kid, ‘acourse,” comes the reply, “can’t have him hangin’ around.”
Tony doesn’t know what that means, but it doesn’t sound good, and he presses closer to Annie, who presses a kiss to his hair. His stomach grumbles, and he remembers that he didn’t eat dinner, but he doesn’t know what time it is. It’s still dark outside. “Go to sleep, baby,” Annie says to him, “things will be better in the morning.”
But when they wake him, he’s still sleepy and upset, and he has to struggle not to cry or whine, because he still hurts but he doesn’t want to make them mad, he wants them to think he’s being good. They put him in a large station wagon and drive him to the park. It’s early morning, and the park is cold, and Tony is hungry and tired as he climbs out of the car and they lead him over to a bench. This park isn’t very nice-there is garbage and dog poop everywhere, and the bench is covered in bird droppings and a wet newspaper. No one is around.
Hank then picks him up and sets him on the bench. Bert ruffles his hair and Hank gives him a chocolate bar, saying he is sorry for hitting him, and Annie-Annie hugs him and kisses his cheek and says she thinks he’s a great kid, and someone will come and find him soon, so he should just sit tight.
Tony doesn’t want to stay in the park by himself, especially now that he knows his father doesn’t want him. Maybe--
“Couldn’t you-“ asks Tony quietly, “couldn’t you take me with you? Bert was gonna teach me to play ball, and I promise I’ll be really good, I promise-“
“No, sweetheart,” says Annie, “We can’t, I’m sorry. You just stay quiet, now, and everything will be all right, you’ll see.”
Tony doesn’t argue. He’s been as good as he could be, and they still don’t want him either.
No one comes to find him right away. Tony is cold, and hungry, and the chocolate bar makes him sick and he throws it all up, and no one comes for him. When the sun starts to climb higher, and it gets hotter, Tony crawls under the bench to lie down in the dirt and grass and pieces of plastic, but he is both too hot and too cold, and shivering too hard to sleep. And then a man in jogging clothes is bending down and asking if he is okay. And then there are police and sirens and lots of people talking, and his father is pulling him along and smiling and smiling until someone asks him to pose with Tony and then he hugs Tony until the flash goes off in Tony’s face, blinding him. Tony can’t take it anymore and he starts to cry.
“Stop it, Tony,” says his father coldly, “You’ve caused enough trouble for one day, don’t you think? What possessed you to go walking off with criminals, have you no common sense at all?”
He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t meant --
“Here,” says his father, “the police have some questions. Jarvis will come and pick you up when you’re done. I expect better from you in future, Tony.”
“Come on, kid,” says the policeman.
The police man is large and looks mean and Tony doesn’t want to go with him, but his father pulls his hand away and pushes him towards the man. “Tony! Go on, I’ve got a lot of work to do now; please don’t be difficult. “
The police man takes him to a room with a couch and gives him some juice, but Tony still feels sick and doesn’t drink it. Tony doesn’t answer the questions either, not about where he was taken or who had him or whether he had ever heard their names. He just sits, quiet and still, nodding his head when they asked if he is okay, if he can hear them, if he understands. Eventually he is taken to another room and a woman who says she is a nurse asks him how he is. He tells her he’s fine, and when she asks where his parents are, he tells her they are at home. She frowns at him before asking if he doesn’t mind to undress, but he doesn’t really want to take off his clothes, and tells her so. It’s cold, and he can’t stop shivering.
She asks, but he doesn’t want to drink anything, and he isn’t hungry. He just doesn’t answer when she asks him if anything hurts. He tells her he feels fine, and he wants to go home.
Tony really wants to go home.
When the officer comes back, the nurse says, “He’s refusing an exam, and at his age, I shouldn’t do one without parental consent anyway. Where are his parents?”
It isn’t true; Tony hasn’t said ‘no’ to anything but taking off his clothes, but he doesn’t correct the nurse. It isn’t polite to question adults.
The officer shakes his head. “Stark took off, and the missus never came. We’re supposed to call their butler for pick up. Rich people.” He snorts, and then looks over at Tony before adding, “Poor kid.”
It isn’t long after that that Jarvis comes. Tony stands when Jarvis arrives, but Jarvis leans down and picks Tony right up, holding him, and Tony can’t help crying again. “It’s okay, young Master,” says Jarvis soothingly. “It’s okay. It’s all over now. You’re safe. I’m here. Don’t cry, it’s okay.”
It’s almost a week later that Tony asks Jarvis why his father had said Tony wasn’t his, after a nightmare that Tony can’t quite remember, but doesn’t want to go back to sleep after either. “Your father did not mean the things he said, Tony,” Jarvis tells him. “He is a very important man, and cannot give in to threats or bullies, remember what Captain America says? You’ll understand better when you’re older.”
Years later, when Tony is older, Tony would learn that his mother had become hysterical and had to be sedated; his father had sent her to Majorca for a “rest” and Tony didn’t even see her until well after the bruises had healed and he was back at school. As for his father … his father had been called away on business while Tony was still at the police station, and so he sent Tony a gift certificate for a local bookstore, with strict instructions to Jarvis that Tony was only to get books that were educational and not frivolous.
Tony never used it.
And Tony’s kidnappers are never identified, and never found.
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TWO: “Batteries Not Included"
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It’s his first business trip as CEO, after his father’s death and Tony’s departure from school to assume his rightful place in the family business. It’s his first trip, and he’s excited and nervous and eager in a way that whenever he thinks of it afterwards he knows he never will be again. That trip had been a disillusionment on many fronts, and the kidnapping was only the least of it.
Because of course it all goes haywire. Of course it does.
They get him just as he’s leaving the airport in Hong Kong. They don’t speak English and in any event, they gag him immediately. They are not careful with their treatment of how they stuff him in their unmarked vehicle or drag him to the ubiquitous cement warehouse. He’s only a little injured and he’s only a little scared, but he is very annoyed. He was trying to stick to the schedule, and now they’d all think he was irresponsible--
And his father is dead. There’s no one to-
But the kidnappers clearly have a plan, and call Obie. In retrospect, of course it’s Obie they contact. Of course. Obie, his right hand man, his father’s right hand man, the company’s main man: the man widely acknowledged to be the real brains behind the company’s operations and direction. The man they all think controls Tony. Because Tony is just a kid, Howard’s useless kid, useful only for his name, useful only as a figurehead. Tony: the company mascot.
Because Tony knows, he’s always known that they only elected him CEO as a PR exercise. A trained monkey with a few tricks up his sleeve, the orphaned son of the former company head who looked sad but smiled pretty for the cover of the magazines--of course they had to allow him to call himself the CEO. (Also, he inherited the controlling share, couldn’t get round him just yet. Bad press, you know).
But in the end, either as Howard’s heir or as his newly appointed Stark-named President of the Board, either way, Tony’s considered expendable. Or, more accurately, he’s just as useful dead as he is alive.
And then, Obie is on the television screen in front of him. Obie, who held him after his parents’ funeral and brought him pizza and taught him dirty Irish limericks to raucous piano accompaniment. Obie, not his father, Obie who has always been there for him as well as Stark Industries and for one moment, seeing Obie’s familiar and safe face on the screen, Tony hopes-
But Obie’s face is calm as he sees Tony’s bruised face and ripped clothing, the blood coating his hair and streaking the white fabric of his shirt; he’s as relaxed as if he’s eating pizza in Tony’s living room.
“That brat,” says Obie, “is a pain in my ass, and you can kill him if you want. In fact, please, you’ll do me a favour. Stark Industries doesn’t pay ransoms, especially not for the spoiled useless son of our former CEO. So do what you want. You won’t get a cent from me, and I wouldn’t give even half a damn about whatever you do to him.”
Tony doesn’t want to be hurt by what Obie is doing and saying-he wants to be indifferent, he wants to be ice. He wants to be a businessman, like his father; he wants to be objective and realistic and clear-minded about what’s going on and why. After his first kidnapping, he’d known and been told that if he couldn’t outsmart a bunch of thugs, he wasn’t worth the resources to rescue, and so he’d spent years being careful, watching his back, abiding by every rule imposed by his security detail. He knows that his father wouldn’t have paid, had he still been alive; he knows that company policy dictates that ransom demands go unanswered. Still, even years later, he can remember clearly how Obie’s words bit and stung, how coldly sincere Obie had looked, and how alone he had felt, how scared.
Years later, he will remember how something in him, some faint hope that Obie would have been at least upset about the situation, had died in that moment. Even though afterwards, Obie had been so convincing in explaining how it had all been an act for the cameras, an act for the kidnappers, a required show. Even though he’d known all of that then, and knew better now, Tony had been hurting and terrified, young and foolish: years later, he’ll remember that moment as the most painful part of the kidnapping.
Of course, in the here and now, he doesn’t have a lot of time for emotion. Once the kidnappers get over their anger and realize that Tony is otherwise useless to them, that Obie isn’t bluffing, that there will be no ransom or even a counter-offer, they decide to get rid of him. Unlike Tracy and Bert and Hank, who had a shred of decency, these men are looking to cut their losses, and Tony is young, and pretty enough, and still has some value as a result. Tony might be naïve, but he’s learning, and he’s learnt to work fast when needed. And while these kidnappers might be ruthless and tiresome, they are also blessedly stupid, and so not only do they believe that they can get rid of Tony on the black market and still escape with their lives, they throw him in a room with an electronic lock and leave him alone there while they consider their dwindling options. Conveniently, they don’t even bother to tie him up; his too-injured-to-move-crumpled-heap pose when they’d first thrown him luckily fooling them. Ha!
Tony’s up at the door and dismantling the lock in minutes. His injuries barely slow him down.
Later, he’ll tell himself that Obie never meant it; later, Obie comes over and makes a joke, in his booming voice, about what a great actor he was, yeah, and here, have a beer, they were so stupid those kidnappers to think they could get away with taking Tony, what was this, Tony, number six, hasn’t the criminal element learned any better by now?”
And because he doesn’t know any better and because he wants to, Tony will let go of the fear and tension. He’ll laugh and believe, believe that Obie only said what he did because of his faith in Tony. Because his father had always said that if a Stark was kidnapped, it was their job to get themselves out of it, and not to waste the resources. He will believe that all it means is that Obie has faith in him, and he got out of it anyway, so obviously Obie was right.
But later, there’s a cave in Afghanistan, and Tony has shrapnel in his chest and a car battery for a heart (Yinsen’s battery, even though Obie hadn’t planned that, hadn’t wanted that) and his kidnappers are much less easy to get away from. Tony manages, though, and soon after replaces the battery with something that again causes Obie to look at him covetously, unwittingly forcing Obie to try to kill him yet again. By the third time Obie tries to kill him (that he knows of), Tony has accepted that that even when hugging him as he cried when he told him how his parents had died, even through ball games at twelve and birthday parties at nine, even when he’d told Tony how proud he was to be his godfather after he’d won his first science fair, Obie had never actually considered Tony his.
It’s a bitter lesson, and sometimes he wonders if he should’ve just kept the battery, or given up in the arc reactor like Obie wanted. If he should have just given in, and then maybe--
In the end, Tony tells himself it just makes killing Obie that much easier.
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THREE: "Natural Disaster"
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He’s taken in broad daylight, from a public place, with nothing more fancy than a concealed weapon and a threat to the civilians all around them. Tony doesn’t think he can face Clint or Natasha if he has to admit that he got nabbed by the operators of a damn ice cream truck, but it’s not like he has a lot of immediate options-he’d been going to lunch with a couple of his scientists from R&D, and their eyes are wide and scared and he can’t have that. So he goes. He goes, and they make the standard threats, but Tony knows the drill: hell, he re-wrote the drill, and instituted the training program for it.
They tie him, hands and feet, and leave him in a small, dark closet. He can’t stand it. He has no choice.
He doesn’t know how much time goes by, but they haul him out and he can’t see in the brightness. He hears them dialing, and hears Pepper’s voice, and when he looks up at the screen, she’s dropped her glass and gone paper-white. Tony silently urges her to get with the program.
“You’ve got Tony,” she says, all her polish and composure gone. She looks-
No Pepp, no-- Tony is chanting silently in his head, she can’t give in, they don’t work like that, she knows better-
And in the next second, she does. “You’ve got Tony Stark. What is he worth to you? And what do you think he’s worth to us? I run the company, and our R&D department is top notch. Nowadays, he spends most of his time drinking and playing superhero; the company no longer needs him, and therefore, we cannot pay you. Or, more accurately: we won’t.”
“I would have thought,” sneers Thug #1, which is what Tony is calling the speaker in his head. All of the kidnappers have similar body types and are masked and dressed all in black. There’s not much to distinguish them. As kidnapping ops go, this is one of the more professional ones. Tony’s tied so tightly he can barely wriggle. He’d lost feeling in most of his extremities hours ago. “I would have thought he meant something to you, at least personally.”
“He’s my boss. I put up with him, slept with him, and now I am one of the most powerful women in the world. What do you think?” Pepper’s tone is calm and acerbic, one perfect eyebrow arched slightly. As if the kidnapper is hopelessly naïve.
And it hurts, it hurts-Tony knows he buys friendship: always has, will always have to. But it hurts. Because a small part of him has always wondered, a part of him he’s never voiced, never ever because that would destroy them, destroy him, but Pepper works for him and as much as she loves him, she loves his company too -
“You heard the lady,” Tony calls, and his voice is hard as iron.
“You have 48 hours,” says Thug #1, cutting off both Tony and the feed.
The next few hours go both quickly and slowly. The kidnappers torment him, torture him a bit, but Tony’s been tormented and tortured by the best. These guys may be good, but they are still professionals, and there’s nothing personal at stake for them. They’re looking for results more than satisfaction, and Tony can live through this. He’s hungry, he’s tired, he’s hurting and beyond exhausted, but he can live through this.
He talks, too. Tells them what they want to hear, and a few things they don’t-that no one is coming, and all about the contingency plans Tony has put in place, should he die, should he be incapacitated, should he go missing forever. Tells him they can google it-redundancy is just good corporate strategy, and S.I. is immaculately run, Pepper makes sure of it. Even the Avengers will be taken care of-of course they will, they’re his teammates and friends, and yeah, he’s not really an Avenger, but he likes to consider them his-
After a little while, he doesn’t really know what he’s saying. He’s probably repeating himself, but so what? It’s not like he’s got a teleprompter. “As the lady said,” Tony continues, ignoring him and pushing every note of derision into his voice he can, “As she said, the company doesn’t need me anymore. I have insurance and an excellent succession plan-Stark Industries employs thousands, you think we wouldn’t? They don’t even need me for the Avengers anymore. You are fools.”
“Mr. Stark,” says Thug #3, politely, apparently fed up of over 20 hours of Tony’s rambling, “we can gag you if we choose.”
And abruptly, Tony is tired. He knows he’s going to have to figure a way out of this mess, he knows he’ll have to-because even though Pepper will be fine, she and Happy both, he’s made sure of it, and even though the company will trip along, he still adds value, and he still has plans. The Avengers, too, are another story and whatever else, and whether or not they think they need him, he knows their lives are made easier by him. For what he can do, for his tech, for his backing, for the things he can give them and the things he can make for them. And he needs to make sure that they are safe, that they have what they need, and maybe what he does isn’t all that much, maybe S.I. can give them a lot of what he does personally, maybe he’s deluding himself, maybe he’s not really wanted on the team but they still need him, just a little, and it’s something, it’s something and it matters and when he gets back, he’ll work harder and better and do more, he will-
And then there’s Pepper, and Steve, and the rest-
It doesn’t matter what any of them say, or do, or think of him: he loves them. He wants every moment he can get with them. But he needs to get out of here first.
“What are you going to do to me?” he asks the thugs dully. He needs a moment, and information gathering is always useful, right? Plus--he kind of wants to know what will happen if he fails. Options are always good.
“What do you mean,” asks Thug #3, and he sounds honestly curious.
“I’m just wondering,” says Tony, casual. “You know you’re not going to get what you’re asking for, so what’s the plan, Stan?”
“You really do not think they will pay a measly ransom? For the great Tony Stark?” Thug #2 actually sounds surprised, even while Thug #1 is saying, “His name is not Stan.” A little slow, that one.
“Bucko, do you honestly think this is my first rodeo?” Tony laughs, but it turns into a kind of pained cough and ow, oh, something wasn’t quite right there, “S.I. has a policy. S.H.I.E.L.D. has a policy. I’ve been kidnapped somany times it’s boring now, and no one has ever bothered to pay one red cent for me. Ever. Your attempt won’t be the first. It won’t be the last. Usually doesn’t work out so well for your side, but there you have it. So either I’ll get out of here or you’ll kill me. There’s not going to be any ransom. Get it through your heads. No one’s even looking--
And then Clint is dropping casually down in front of him, and Natasha is cutting away the zip ties, and he can hear the Hulk smashing, and Tony blinks, and blinks, but he can’t stay awake, and he’s not sure-
He wakes up in Medical, and everyone is upset with him and he is so tired he doesn’t understand, why is he so tired. It takes him two days to work up the energy to sneak out, and when he does--
Pepper is calmly waiting for him in their bedroom.
“JARVIS was monitoring you, of course,” greets Pepper. “And Clint and Natasha rotated watch. You think we weren’t going to keep a close eye one you?”
Tony blinks. He’s-
“Didn’t you wonder why Happy was waiting for you with the car as soon as you let JARVIS know you wanted him? Getting from the Tower to midtown takes longer than ten minutes, Tony.”
Tony blinked. Pepper had an odd look on her face.
“Come on, Tony, sit down. We’ve got to talk.”
He was still recovering, he told himself, and for whatever reason, breathing was still hard, that was it--
“Tony, I know you think you’re always alone and no one will bother to come for you, that no one cares aside from what you can give them, but that’s not the case. It hasn’t been for a long, long time. Because you’ve always had me and Rhodey, and now? When it comes to people coming for you, we’ve got to get in line.”
“I know, I know-“ he started, trying to cut her off, whatever she was saying, it didn’t matter, he was home, everything was fine, could they just move on?
“No, you don’t. That’s why Steve yelled at you. That’s why Natasha won’t talk to you, and why Bruce is sulking in his lab.” He remembered Steve yelling, but he didn’t think about why Natasha and Bruce hadn’t visited, assumed they’d just been busy--
“That’s silly, of course I know, why would you-“
“Sweetie,” says Pepper, still with that odd look of determination and misery, but clearly momentarily amused, “you live with two of the best professional spies in the world, a hyper-vigilant scientist, a god, and a military captain whose job it is to critically assess the men under his command. Did you really think they wouldn't notice?”
Notice? Notice what? Nothing was making sense, but he couldn’t just sit here and say nothing. “I kind of thought I’d-“
“I know you hired Natalie to make me jealous, until you changed your mind and started forcibly pushing me away.” He blinks, that was years ago, what?
“Yes, well, that was different, I thought I was dying-“ Seriously, not this again, she knew why he--
“I know, Tony-well, of course you didn’t tell me and I didn’t know then, but I know about all that now. It took me a while to understand how that made any sense, but okay. Anyway, my point is: you have more than just me now. And I will always love you. I promise.” Her voice was very gentle.
And now, he could see the tears in her eyes, and -- “Are you breaking up with me? No, no, tell me you’re-“ He was safe, she didn’t have to pay, he wasn’t going to hold her words against her or anything she knew that, so what was happening, what was--
“Tony. Things have changed, and you know it.” Pepper’s voice is clear and firm, but her eyes are sad, and there are tears falling now. Why is she sad, everything is fine, he’s fine and not even barely scratched, everything is going well, why--
“Pepper, I love you, please-“ Panic is bubbling up in his chest, what is she saying, he can’t catch his breath--
“No, Tony,” and now he can see that Pepper is crying; Pepper is crying and he can’t deal with that, what should he do, he’ll buy her shoes, Pepper loves shoes, hell, he’ll buy her a shoe factory-- “You needed me, and-I let you get confused by that. But you don’t need me anymore-well, you do, but not like that. And I know you love me-that’s not the point.”
Of course that’s the point, what else even is the point, Pepper is totally the point--
“Besides,” she says smiling even as the tears continue to fall, “I’m selfish. I’m selfish, and I know now that you’re not mine-you never really were, and I can’t have that. I love you, but you’re not mine. You’re Stark Industries’ and the Avengers’ and the world’s-and maybe someone else’s. But you aren’t mine, and you never were--not really.”
“I am, please, I’ll try harder, I will, please Pepper-“ he begs, tripping over the words, fast as he can, because he can fix this, he can, he broke it because that’s who he is and that’s what he does and clearly he broke something but he didn’t mean to and if he can just be good enough smart enough fast enough--
“Tony,” she says, her words a gentle rebuke. “Tony, this isn’t really about you.”
But it is, it is and he knows it but he can do better, she has to believe him, she has to-
“Please,” he begs, desperate, pleading, “Please, Pep, I’ll-“
“I love you, Tony,” she says, and walks out of his home.
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Links to Parts 4 & 5 Parts 4 & 5 because LJ made me
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Title: “Fly Away Home”
Author: Ivorysilk
Word Count: Approx. 11.5K
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None. This is sort of very loosely movie-verse, because it’s all I know, but is like set in vague!verse, really.
Summary: Five times Tony tries to find his way home.
Author’s Ramble: So, um, I was going to do five good length fics for bingo, and started a bunch of fics (which were not so much with the finishing), and this was going to be for only one of the prompts (guess which one!) but then I ran out of time and panicked, and so ended up converting this into what I like to fondly believe is a five times fic that sort of uses each of the prompts in each of the ficlet sections, so basically, I cheated. I confess to cheating, I acknowledge I cheated, no banner for me (while each ficlet can be standalone, Steve isn’t in the first two at all really, and barely in the third, but I will at least get to say I gave it a try. ☺ Also, I was kind of happy by the fact it sort of worked, so.) Each of the sections does relate to a prompt in the bottom line, and I’ve labeled them for ease.
Also, this is my first ever post in this comm, and also, my first over Steve/Tony fic, and also, this is not beta’d because did I mention the running out of time? I’ll try again in round two! Anyway!
My card is above, and fic is below. Comments and criticisms and the helpful pointing out of embarrassing typos so I can fix them before someone else sees (and until I get this thing properly beta’d and edited, and yes, properly posted with proper links) are all gratefully received.
Big Thanks to hoosierbitch for agreeing to and making time to read this over very quickly at the last moment, even though I literally sent it to her a day late and told her she had like an hour, maybe less. Thank you also to dapperanachronism, who also agreed, very last minute, to read this over for me, with a rather similar last minute right before the deadline time constraint. They are the best, and all mistakes are mine; their suggestions were extremely kind and helpful.
Additional Thanks to anyone who reads, thank you to all the bingo organizers for doing all the work and letting me play, and thank you for all the people in chat who were and are so kind to a newbie to this comm!
Link to the fic post
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ONE: “(Sub)urban Survival”
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He’s four and three quarters, and that’s what he’d told the kidnapper-lady when she smiled at him and asked, after the boss-kidnapper left and it’s just her and one other one guy who told Tony he could call him Bert. She’s pretty, even with half her face hidden by a mask, with long blonde hair and a broad smile. Tony likes her smile, and when he smiles back she gives him a cookie and tells him to be good and quiet.
Tony isn’t very good at being good or quiet, he knows, but he tries. He always tries really hard, and so he sits in the corner like he’s told, and he beams when the kidnapper-lady tells him he’s doing a good job, even though he already nibbled at the crunchy (but delicious) cookie and it wasn’t very quiet at all. (His dad never thought he was quiet enough, even though he usually tried to be extra-quiet around his dad, and he was never allowed anything to eat, particularly not anything crunchy.) The kidnappers don’t even seem to mind that he’s spilled some crumbs, telling him he’s doing great. Bert ruffles his hair and calls him kid, tells him they could play some ball later.
Tony has never played ball. He doesn’t know what it is, and the kidnapper laughs when he says so; tells him he’ll teach him.
The kidnappers are nicer than he’d expected. His father had told him once that when (not if) he was kidnapped he is to say nothing and wait quietly until he’s rescued, but that it would be better if he could get out of there himself. His security detail just tells him not to make anyone upset, and to follow a complicated protocol with a bunch of different scenarios that Tony didn’t really pay much attention to, because Superfriends was on in the background. His father gave him lectures about being strong and not crying, but Tony has no desire to cry. He doesn’t mind being here, actually. He likes Bert, and he likes Annie, and he wonders if they’ll let him stay a while.
In the evening, though, the boss-kidnapper came back, and the other two look a bit scared, standing up and pulling Tony to his feet even though he’d been napping. He tries to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“Get him up,” barks the boss. “Stark says he won’t pay, and that the kid’s not his anyway.”
The other two looked confused. “What? Boss, we’re-“
“We’re going to have to convince him. Kid, come here,” snaps the boss, and Tony hangs back near Annie, but she pushes him forward towards the boss-guy, and so he goes reluctantly. “Have you been lying to us, kid? Have you?” yells the boss, and shakes Tony hard.
“I’m not lying!” he shouts. “My name is Anthony Edward Stark!”
The kidnapper-boss lets him go abruptly, and Tony goes sprawling. Annie immediately goes to him, pulling him into her lap and rubbing his back while he cries. “I’m sorry,” he sniffles, trying to stop, “I’m-“
“Well,” says the boss, “I guess we’ll have to convince him of that, won’t we?” His voice doesn’t sound very nice, and Tony begins to get scared again.
“Hank,” says Annie sharply, “I never signed up to hurt no little kids.”
“I never signed up to hurt the kid either,” chimes in Bert. “We were just supposed to take him.”
“Well, the plan’s changed,” barks boss-guy. “We’re gonna send Stark a little message.”
Half an hour later, the polaroid camera is put away and Annie is dabbing a cold cloth against the darkening bruise on Tony’s face. Tony is working hard not to cry-he doesn’t want his father to see any photo of him crying, even when the boss-man had held him up by one arm, twisting it badly, and not letting go until Bert got a good shot, or even when he’d been dropped on the ground-but he is definitely ready to go home. Annie looks sad, like his mother, and Tony is scared and his face hurts. He wants Jarvis. He wants his own room. He doesn’t like it here anymore, and he doesn’t want to play ball either.
“I am Tony Stark,” he tells Annie, when she brings him a dinner he has no wish to eat, swallowing back his tears. “I promise. I don’t-“
“Shhhh,” says Annie. “I know you are. You look just like your photo on the magazine cover.”
“Dad made me sit for it,” says Tony, and then, “Please, I really want to go home,” he whispers to Annie.
“Shhh,” says Annie. “Soon, baby. Soon you’ll be home, and this will all be over.” She holds him and tells him to go to sleep, but he’s cold and scared and can’t sleep.
He falls asleep anyway.
“Howard Stark,” comes his dad’s voice over the speaker phone in the morning, and Tony wakes up with a start. He’s lying on the floor, and so he sits up, pushing back against the wall. His arm hurts a lot, and so does his face and his side. If Jarvis were there, he thinks he’d give Tony some ice for it. But Jarvis isn’t here, and no one here is looking at him.
“Mr. Stark,” says the boss-man. “I left you a message, I hope you received it.”
Tony reminds himself that his dad is smart. He’s always told Tony that if he was kidnapped, someone would come find him. His dad will fix this, and come get Tony.
“And I trust you understood mine,” replies his dad’s tinny voice, altered through the speaker. “That child is not my son, and Stark Industries does not pay ransoms. Kidnapping is a crime, however, as is assaulting a child, and you may rest assured that the authorities will come and find you. Do not contact me again.”
The ringtone is loud in the abrupt silence of the room.
“Now you listen here, Hank,” says Annie in a cold voice. “You will not harm this boy again. It’s not what we signed up for, Bert and I, and you will behave.”
The boss-man sighs, suddenly. “I know, Annie, I know. I’m sorry. I just-what kind of man doesn’t care about his own kid?”
“It’s my fault,” says Tony, in a small voice in the silence that followed. “It’s my fault. I’m not good enough. I--”
“Quiet, kid,” says Bert, but his voice sounds tired and not angry. “So, Boss, what’re we gonna do now?”
“We’ll have to get rid o’ the kid, ‘acourse,” comes the reply, “can’t have him hangin’ around.”
Tony doesn’t know what that means, but it doesn’t sound good, and he presses closer to Annie, who presses a kiss to his hair. His stomach grumbles, and he remembers that he didn’t eat dinner, but he doesn’t know what time it is. It’s still dark outside. “Go to sleep, baby,” Annie says to him, “things will be better in the morning.”
But when they wake him, he’s still sleepy and upset, and he has to struggle not to cry or whine, because he still hurts but he doesn’t want to make them mad, he wants them to think he’s being good. They put him in a large station wagon and drive him to the park. It’s early morning, and the park is cold, and Tony is hungry and tired as he climbs out of the car and they lead him over to a bench. This park isn’t very nice-there is garbage and dog poop everywhere, and the bench is covered in bird droppings and a wet newspaper. No one is around.
Hank then picks him up and sets him on the bench. Bert ruffles his hair and Hank gives him a chocolate bar, saying he is sorry for hitting him, and Annie-Annie hugs him and kisses his cheek and says she thinks he’s a great kid, and someone will come and find him soon, so he should just sit tight.
Tony doesn’t want to stay in the park by himself, especially now that he knows his father doesn’t want him. Maybe--
“Couldn’t you-“ asks Tony quietly, “couldn’t you take me with you? Bert was gonna teach me to play ball, and I promise I’ll be really good, I promise-“
“No, sweetheart,” says Annie, “We can’t, I’m sorry. You just stay quiet, now, and everything will be all right, you’ll see.”
Tony doesn’t argue. He’s been as good as he could be, and they still don’t want him either.
No one comes to find him right away. Tony is cold, and hungry, and the chocolate bar makes him sick and he throws it all up, and no one comes for him. When the sun starts to climb higher, and it gets hotter, Tony crawls under the bench to lie down in the dirt and grass and pieces of plastic, but he is both too hot and too cold, and shivering too hard to sleep. And then a man in jogging clothes is bending down and asking if he is okay. And then there are police and sirens and lots of people talking, and his father is pulling him along and smiling and smiling until someone asks him to pose with Tony and then he hugs Tony until the flash goes off in Tony’s face, blinding him. Tony can’t take it anymore and he starts to cry.
“Stop it, Tony,” says his father coldly, “You’ve caused enough trouble for one day, don’t you think? What possessed you to go walking off with criminals, have you no common sense at all?”
He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t meant --
“Here,” says his father, “the police have some questions. Jarvis will come and pick you up when you’re done. I expect better from you in future, Tony.”
“Come on, kid,” says the policeman.
The police man is large and looks mean and Tony doesn’t want to go with him, but his father pulls his hand away and pushes him towards the man. “Tony! Go on, I’ve got a lot of work to do now; please don’t be difficult. “
The police man takes him to a room with a couch and gives him some juice, but Tony still feels sick and doesn’t drink it. Tony doesn’t answer the questions either, not about where he was taken or who had him or whether he had ever heard their names. He just sits, quiet and still, nodding his head when they asked if he is okay, if he can hear them, if he understands. Eventually he is taken to another room and a woman who says she is a nurse asks him how he is. He tells her he’s fine, and when she asks where his parents are, he tells her they are at home. She frowns at him before asking if he doesn’t mind to undress, but he doesn’t really want to take off his clothes, and tells her so. It’s cold, and he can’t stop shivering.
She asks, but he doesn’t want to drink anything, and he isn’t hungry. He just doesn’t answer when she asks him if anything hurts. He tells her he feels fine, and he wants to go home.
Tony really wants to go home.
When the officer comes back, the nurse says, “He’s refusing an exam, and at his age, I shouldn’t do one without parental consent anyway. Where are his parents?”
It isn’t true; Tony hasn’t said ‘no’ to anything but taking off his clothes, but he doesn’t correct the nurse. It isn’t polite to question adults.
The officer shakes his head. “Stark took off, and the missus never came. We’re supposed to call their butler for pick up. Rich people.” He snorts, and then looks over at Tony before adding, “Poor kid.”
It isn’t long after that that Jarvis comes. Tony stands when Jarvis arrives, but Jarvis leans down and picks Tony right up, holding him, and Tony can’t help crying again. “It’s okay, young Master,” says Jarvis soothingly. “It’s okay. It’s all over now. You’re safe. I’m here. Don’t cry, it’s okay.”
It’s almost a week later that Tony asks Jarvis why his father had said Tony wasn’t his, after a nightmare that Tony can’t quite remember, but doesn’t want to go back to sleep after either. “Your father did not mean the things he said, Tony,” Jarvis tells him. “He is a very important man, and cannot give in to threats or bullies, remember what Captain America says? You’ll understand better when you’re older.”
Years later, when Tony is older, Tony would learn that his mother had become hysterical and had to be sedated; his father had sent her to Majorca for a “rest” and Tony didn’t even see her until well after the bruises had healed and he was back at school. As for his father … his father had been called away on business while Tony was still at the police station, and so he sent Tony a gift certificate for a local bookstore, with strict instructions to Jarvis that Tony was only to get books that were educational and not frivolous.
Tony never used it.
And Tony’s kidnappers are never identified, and never found.
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TWO: “Batteries Not Included"
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It’s his first business trip as CEO, after his father’s death and Tony’s departure from school to assume his rightful place in the family business. It’s his first trip, and he’s excited and nervous and eager in a way that whenever he thinks of it afterwards he knows he never will be again. That trip had been a disillusionment on many fronts, and the kidnapping was only the least of it.
Because of course it all goes haywire. Of course it does.
They get him just as he’s leaving the airport in Hong Kong. They don’t speak English and in any event, they gag him immediately. They are not careful with their treatment of how they stuff him in their unmarked vehicle or drag him to the ubiquitous cement warehouse. He’s only a little injured and he’s only a little scared, but he is very annoyed. He was trying to stick to the schedule, and now they’d all think he was irresponsible--
And his father is dead. There’s no one to-
But the kidnappers clearly have a plan, and call Obie. In retrospect, of course it’s Obie they contact. Of course. Obie, his right hand man, his father’s right hand man, the company’s main man: the man widely acknowledged to be the real brains behind the company’s operations and direction. The man they all think controls Tony. Because Tony is just a kid, Howard’s useless kid, useful only for his name, useful only as a figurehead. Tony: the company mascot.
Because Tony knows, he’s always known that they only elected him CEO as a PR exercise. A trained monkey with a few tricks up his sleeve, the orphaned son of the former company head who looked sad but smiled pretty for the cover of the magazines--of course they had to allow him to call himself the CEO. (Also, he inherited the controlling share, couldn’t get round him just yet. Bad press, you know).
But in the end, either as Howard’s heir or as his newly appointed Stark-named President of the Board, either way, Tony’s considered expendable. Or, more accurately, he’s just as useful dead as he is alive.
And then, Obie is on the television screen in front of him. Obie, who held him after his parents’ funeral and brought him pizza and taught him dirty Irish limericks to raucous piano accompaniment. Obie, not his father, Obie who has always been there for him as well as Stark Industries and for one moment, seeing Obie’s familiar and safe face on the screen, Tony hopes-
But Obie’s face is calm as he sees Tony’s bruised face and ripped clothing, the blood coating his hair and streaking the white fabric of his shirt; he’s as relaxed as if he’s eating pizza in Tony’s living room.
“That brat,” says Obie, “is a pain in my ass, and you can kill him if you want. In fact, please, you’ll do me a favour. Stark Industries doesn’t pay ransoms, especially not for the spoiled useless son of our former CEO. So do what you want. You won’t get a cent from me, and I wouldn’t give even half a damn about whatever you do to him.”
Tony doesn’t want to be hurt by what Obie is doing and saying-he wants to be indifferent, he wants to be ice. He wants to be a businessman, like his father; he wants to be objective and realistic and clear-minded about what’s going on and why. After his first kidnapping, he’d known and been told that if he couldn’t outsmart a bunch of thugs, he wasn’t worth the resources to rescue, and so he’d spent years being careful, watching his back, abiding by every rule imposed by his security detail. He knows that his father wouldn’t have paid, had he still been alive; he knows that company policy dictates that ransom demands go unanswered. Still, even years later, he can remember clearly how Obie’s words bit and stung, how coldly sincere Obie had looked, and how alone he had felt, how scared.
Years later, he will remember how something in him, some faint hope that Obie would have been at least upset about the situation, had died in that moment. Even though afterwards, Obie had been so convincing in explaining how it had all been an act for the cameras, an act for the kidnappers, a required show. Even though he’d known all of that then, and knew better now, Tony had been hurting and terrified, young and foolish: years later, he’ll remember that moment as the most painful part of the kidnapping.
Of course, in the here and now, he doesn’t have a lot of time for emotion. Once the kidnappers get over their anger and realize that Tony is otherwise useless to them, that Obie isn’t bluffing, that there will be no ransom or even a counter-offer, they decide to get rid of him. Unlike Tracy and Bert and Hank, who had a shred of decency, these men are looking to cut their losses, and Tony is young, and pretty enough, and still has some value as a result. Tony might be naïve, but he’s learning, and he’s learnt to work fast when needed. And while these kidnappers might be ruthless and tiresome, they are also blessedly stupid, and so not only do they believe that they can get rid of Tony on the black market and still escape with their lives, they throw him in a room with an electronic lock and leave him alone there while they consider their dwindling options. Conveniently, they don’t even bother to tie him up; his too-injured-to-move-crumpled-heap pose when they’d first thrown him luckily fooling them. Ha!
Tony’s up at the door and dismantling the lock in minutes. His injuries barely slow him down.
Later, he’ll tell himself that Obie never meant it; later, Obie comes over and makes a joke, in his booming voice, about what a great actor he was, yeah, and here, have a beer, they were so stupid those kidnappers to think they could get away with taking Tony, what was this, Tony, number six, hasn’t the criminal element learned any better by now?”
And because he doesn’t know any better and because he wants to, Tony will let go of the fear and tension. He’ll laugh and believe, believe that Obie only said what he did because of his faith in Tony. Because his father had always said that if a Stark was kidnapped, it was their job to get themselves out of it, and not to waste the resources. He will believe that all it means is that Obie has faith in him, and he got out of it anyway, so obviously Obie was right.
But later, there’s a cave in Afghanistan, and Tony has shrapnel in his chest and a car battery for a heart (Yinsen’s battery, even though Obie hadn’t planned that, hadn’t wanted that) and his kidnappers are much less easy to get away from. Tony manages, though, and soon after replaces the battery with something that again causes Obie to look at him covetously, unwittingly forcing Obie to try to kill him yet again. By the third time Obie tries to kill him (that he knows of), Tony has accepted that that even when hugging him as he cried when he told him how his parents had died, even through ball games at twelve and birthday parties at nine, even when he’d told Tony how proud he was to be his godfather after he’d won his first science fair, Obie had never actually considered Tony his.
It’s a bitter lesson, and sometimes he wonders if he should’ve just kept the battery, or given up in the arc reactor like Obie wanted. If he should have just given in, and then maybe--
In the end, Tony tells himself it just makes killing Obie that much easier.
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THREE: "Natural Disaster"
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He’s taken in broad daylight, from a public place, with nothing more fancy than a concealed weapon and a threat to the civilians all around them. Tony doesn’t think he can face Clint or Natasha if he has to admit that he got nabbed by the operators of a damn ice cream truck, but it’s not like he has a lot of immediate options-he’d been going to lunch with a couple of his scientists from R&D, and their eyes are wide and scared and he can’t have that. So he goes. He goes, and they make the standard threats, but Tony knows the drill: hell, he re-wrote the drill, and instituted the training program for it.
They tie him, hands and feet, and leave him in a small, dark closet. He can’t stand it. He has no choice.
He doesn’t know how much time goes by, but they haul him out and he can’t see in the brightness. He hears them dialing, and hears Pepper’s voice, and when he looks up at the screen, she’s dropped her glass and gone paper-white. Tony silently urges her to get with the program.
“You’ve got Tony,” she says, all her polish and composure gone. She looks-
No Pepp, no-- Tony is chanting silently in his head, she can’t give in, they don’t work like that, she knows better-
And in the next second, she does. “You’ve got Tony Stark. What is he worth to you? And what do you think he’s worth to us? I run the company, and our R&D department is top notch. Nowadays, he spends most of his time drinking and playing superhero; the company no longer needs him, and therefore, we cannot pay you. Or, more accurately: we won’t.”
“I would have thought,” sneers Thug #1, which is what Tony is calling the speaker in his head. All of the kidnappers have similar body types and are masked and dressed all in black. There’s not much to distinguish them. As kidnapping ops go, this is one of the more professional ones. Tony’s tied so tightly he can barely wriggle. He’d lost feeling in most of his extremities hours ago. “I would have thought he meant something to you, at least personally.”
“He’s my boss. I put up with him, slept with him, and now I am one of the most powerful women in the world. What do you think?” Pepper’s tone is calm and acerbic, one perfect eyebrow arched slightly. As if the kidnapper is hopelessly naïve.
And it hurts, it hurts-Tony knows he buys friendship: always has, will always have to. But it hurts. Because a small part of him has always wondered, a part of him he’s never voiced, never ever because that would destroy them, destroy him, but Pepper works for him and as much as she loves him, she loves his company too -
“You heard the lady,” Tony calls, and his voice is hard as iron.
“You have 48 hours,” says Thug #1, cutting off both Tony and the feed.
The next few hours go both quickly and slowly. The kidnappers torment him, torture him a bit, but Tony’s been tormented and tortured by the best. These guys may be good, but they are still professionals, and there’s nothing personal at stake for them. They’re looking for results more than satisfaction, and Tony can live through this. He’s hungry, he’s tired, he’s hurting and beyond exhausted, but he can live through this.
He talks, too. Tells them what they want to hear, and a few things they don’t-that no one is coming, and all about the contingency plans Tony has put in place, should he die, should he be incapacitated, should he go missing forever. Tells him they can google it-redundancy is just good corporate strategy, and S.I. is immaculately run, Pepper makes sure of it. Even the Avengers will be taken care of-of course they will, they’re his teammates and friends, and yeah, he’s not really an Avenger, but he likes to consider them his-
After a little while, he doesn’t really know what he’s saying. He’s probably repeating himself, but so what? It’s not like he’s got a teleprompter. “As the lady said,” Tony continues, ignoring him and pushing every note of derision into his voice he can, “As she said, the company doesn’t need me anymore. I have insurance and an excellent succession plan-Stark Industries employs thousands, you think we wouldn’t? They don’t even need me for the Avengers anymore. You are fools.”
“Mr. Stark,” says Thug #3, politely, apparently fed up of over 20 hours of Tony’s rambling, “we can gag you if we choose.”
And abruptly, Tony is tired. He knows he’s going to have to figure a way out of this mess, he knows he’ll have to-because even though Pepper will be fine, she and Happy both, he’s made sure of it, and even though the company will trip along, he still adds value, and he still has plans. The Avengers, too, are another story and whatever else, and whether or not they think they need him, he knows their lives are made easier by him. For what he can do, for his tech, for his backing, for the things he can give them and the things he can make for them. And he needs to make sure that they are safe, that they have what they need, and maybe what he does isn’t all that much, maybe S.I. can give them a lot of what he does personally, maybe he’s deluding himself, maybe he’s not really wanted on the team but they still need him, just a little, and it’s something, it’s something and it matters and when he gets back, he’ll work harder and better and do more, he will-
And then there’s Pepper, and Steve, and the rest-
It doesn’t matter what any of them say, or do, or think of him: he loves them. He wants every moment he can get with them. But he needs to get out of here first.
“What are you going to do to me?” he asks the thugs dully. He needs a moment, and information gathering is always useful, right? Plus--he kind of wants to know what will happen if he fails. Options are always good.
“What do you mean,” asks Thug #3, and he sounds honestly curious.
“I’m just wondering,” says Tony, casual. “You know you’re not going to get what you’re asking for, so what’s the plan, Stan?”
“You really do not think they will pay a measly ransom? For the great Tony Stark?” Thug #2 actually sounds surprised, even while Thug #1 is saying, “His name is not Stan.” A little slow, that one.
“Bucko, do you honestly think this is my first rodeo?” Tony laughs, but it turns into a kind of pained cough and ow, oh, something wasn’t quite right there, “S.I. has a policy. S.H.I.E.L.D. has a policy. I’ve been kidnapped somany times it’s boring now, and no one has ever bothered to pay one red cent for me. Ever. Your attempt won’t be the first. It won’t be the last. Usually doesn’t work out so well for your side, but there you have it. So either I’ll get out of here or you’ll kill me. There’s not going to be any ransom. Get it through your heads. No one’s even looking--
And then Clint is dropping casually down in front of him, and Natasha is cutting away the zip ties, and he can hear the Hulk smashing, and Tony blinks, and blinks, but he can’t stay awake, and he’s not sure-
He wakes up in Medical, and everyone is upset with him and he is so tired he doesn’t understand, why is he so tired. It takes him two days to work up the energy to sneak out, and when he does--
Pepper is calmly waiting for him in their bedroom.
“JARVIS was monitoring you, of course,” greets Pepper. “And Clint and Natasha rotated watch. You think we weren’t going to keep a close eye one you?”
Tony blinks. He’s-
“Didn’t you wonder why Happy was waiting for you with the car as soon as you let JARVIS know you wanted him? Getting from the Tower to midtown takes longer than ten minutes, Tony.”
Tony blinked. Pepper had an odd look on her face.
“Come on, Tony, sit down. We’ve got to talk.”
He was still recovering, he told himself, and for whatever reason, breathing was still hard, that was it--
“Tony, I know you think you’re always alone and no one will bother to come for you, that no one cares aside from what you can give them, but that’s not the case. It hasn’t been for a long, long time. Because you’ve always had me and Rhodey, and now? When it comes to people coming for you, we’ve got to get in line.”
“I know, I know-“ he started, trying to cut her off, whatever she was saying, it didn’t matter, he was home, everything was fine, could they just move on?
“No, you don’t. That’s why Steve yelled at you. That’s why Natasha won’t talk to you, and why Bruce is sulking in his lab.” He remembered Steve yelling, but he didn’t think about why Natasha and Bruce hadn’t visited, assumed they’d just been busy--
“That’s silly, of course I know, why would you-“
“Sweetie,” says Pepper, still with that odd look of determination and misery, but clearly momentarily amused, “you live with two of the best professional spies in the world, a hyper-vigilant scientist, a god, and a military captain whose job it is to critically assess the men under his command. Did you really think they wouldn't notice?”
Notice? Notice what? Nothing was making sense, but he couldn’t just sit here and say nothing. “I kind of thought I’d-“
“I know you hired Natalie to make me jealous, until you changed your mind and started forcibly pushing me away.” He blinks, that was years ago, what?
“Yes, well, that was different, I thought I was dying-“ Seriously, not this again, she knew why he--
“I know, Tony-well, of course you didn’t tell me and I didn’t know then, but I know about all that now. It took me a while to understand how that made any sense, but okay. Anyway, my point is: you have more than just me now. And I will always love you. I promise.” Her voice was very gentle.
And now, he could see the tears in her eyes, and -- “Are you breaking up with me? No, no, tell me you’re-“ He was safe, she didn’t have to pay, he wasn’t going to hold her words against her or anything she knew that, so what was happening, what was--
“Tony. Things have changed, and you know it.” Pepper’s voice is clear and firm, but her eyes are sad, and there are tears falling now. Why is she sad, everything is fine, he’s fine and not even barely scratched, everything is going well, why--
“Pepper, I love you, please-“ Panic is bubbling up in his chest, what is she saying, he can’t catch his breath--
“No, Tony,” and now he can see that Pepper is crying; Pepper is crying and he can’t deal with that, what should he do, he’ll buy her shoes, Pepper loves shoes, hell, he’ll buy her a shoe factory-- “You needed me, and-I let you get confused by that. But you don’t need me anymore-well, you do, but not like that. And I know you love me-that’s not the point.”
Of course that’s the point, what else even is the point, Pepper is totally the point--
“Besides,” she says smiling even as the tears continue to fall, “I’m selfish. I’m selfish, and I know now that you’re not mine-you never really were, and I can’t have that. I love you, but you’re not mine. You’re Stark Industries’ and the Avengers’ and the world’s-and maybe someone else’s. But you aren’t mine, and you never were--not really.”
“I am, please, I’ll try harder, I will, please Pepper-“ he begs, tripping over the words, fast as he can, because he can fix this, he can, he broke it because that’s who he is and that’s what he does and clearly he broke something but he didn’t mean to and if he can just be good enough smart enough fast enough--
“Tony,” she says, her words a gentle rebuke. “Tony, this isn’t really about you.”
But it is, it is and he knows it but he can do better, she has to believe him, she has to-
“Please,” he begs, desperate, pleading, “Please, Pep, I’ll-“
“I love you, Tony,” she says, and walks out of his home.
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Links to Parts 4 & 5 Parts 4 & 5 because LJ made me