Freedom is Sweet

Tony is in a little bit of a predicament. Around him hover pages on pages of research, papers and reports, paused video footage, pictures and translated newspapers. All regarding one Wanda Maximoff.

It wasn’t nice at first, every little bit of knowledge about how she works, how her powers work, make the memories he knows aren’t real a little worse. He realises that she showed him his worst fear. That she didn’t know what he’d see. That she knew it would be the worst thing he’d ever experienced, and she did it anyway.

He realises that once upon a time, his worst fear was Steve dying at his feet. That he didn’t think of Pepper, Rhodey, Happy. And he thinks again and again and again of the vast emptiness of space. The vast vast not so emptiness of space. Overall, he’s having a terrible time.

But the research bug has him, and it’s not going to relent until he has his answers. Which brings him to his current predicament. He might have found one.

“And you’re sure the numbers are correct?” He gestures at the calculation Friday is presenting him with, calculations of force and neurons and that particular spice of magic that Tony hasn’t managed to wrap his head around. He’s just glad Friday has.

“I am choosing to not see that question as an insult. The numbers are correct, boss.”

Tony has found an explanation for what he’s seen, and in line with everything he knows about Wanda’s powers, it’s nightmarish. And apparently, nightmares can reach for about a mile.

“There you are.” The door to his lab slides closed again, and Tony tears his gaze away from the nightmare number. Rhodey is weaving his way through tables and dismantled Iron Man parts, a bottle of water in his hand, the braces around his legs moving smoothly, silently. Good.

“You’ve been down here twenty-four hours, I’m allowed,” he says defensively when Tony spots the bottle. Sometimes Tony hates the stupid rule, but he only rolls his eyes and takes the bottle from Rhodey. “So, what are you up to?” Rhodey gestures at the holograms, his smile slowly dropping as he realises what Tony has been doing.

Tony sighs. Rhodey is one of the few people that actually know about the vision, all the horrifying gritty details of it. Tony has told him how cold it was, has shown him the diagrams where he’s noted exactly where every one of his former teammates where hurt. How they died. Rhodey knows the full extent of the mess that is Tony’s brain, scars, trauma, insecurities and all.

Which is why he doesn’t chide Tony for what he’s doing. He normally would. He did when Tony spent a few hours figuring out where the Rogues where hiding. “Why are you wasting your time on this? Your family is here, Tony.” He’s good like that, his honey bear. But Rhodey knows so very intimately that Tony wouldn’t be doing this for nothing. So he settles down on a workbench, waiting for Tony to explain. Giving him space to think, but his level gaze allowing no escape.

Tony looks at the number again. Less than a mile. It could work. They could try it. There will be a next meeting, there is always a next meeting. Rogers is like a boomerang. And with him, Barnes.

“So, this is a dumb idea,” Tony prefaces into the silent hum of the workshop. Dum-E and U look up from where they’ve been sweeping the floor, going back to their tasks when they realise they’re not addressed. Rhodey gives him a dry smile.

“Wouldn’t be your first.”

“I am not to blame for the 97 christmas.”

Rhodey snorts. “I was thinking college, first summer, but sure. What’s the idea? What is this?”

Tony considers the quip already on his tongue, the joke that will keep the nightmares at bay for just a little bit longer. Less than a mile.

“That meeting last week.”

“Which one?” Rhodey ends up in a lot more meetings than Tony, now that he’s one of the heads of the New Avengers. Tony doesn’t envy him for that, but he also doesn’t envy himself for the train of thought that currently has him captive.

“Did Barnes seem off to you?”

Rhodey sinks together a little at the mention of the Rogues, a universal reaction around the compound.

“I don’t know, he seemed the same Captain America fanboy that he always is.”

Tony shakes his head, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He has a headache. Friday warned him about taking breaks, but he’s been ignoring her more the worse it got. The headache and the things he’s been learning.

“No, seriously. He’s a pain, I know, but was he different? You know, weird?”

The dismissive grimace drops from Rhodey’s face as he looks at Tony again. At the holograms, some of them showing Wanda, red magic flickering through her hands, through her eyes.

“Where are you going with this?”

Tony sighs. “Again, this is stupid. But– I think that might not be Barnes.”

It’s only the pictures of the witch all around them, the knowledge of what she can do, what she has done to Tony that keeps Rhodey from outright laughing. He does huff a little breath of laughter though.

“Sure. And I’m a robot.”

“Vis is a robot, you are a teddy bear. But I don’t mean– of course it’s him, physically. Lack of arm and everything. Just… you know, the way he talks. The way he looks at Rogers. What if it’s not him.”

Rhodey is still smiling indulgently, but looks up at the pictures, the files. The nightmare number.

“You think it’s her? She’s in his head?”

“When I walked out I ran into him. Like, literally. And he didn’t notice. He was just– dead. Gone. I talked to him, even shoved him. No response.”

Rhodey draws a sharp hissing breath through his teeth. “Tones, you can’t do that. If someone saw that–”

Toney waves his hands at the words. “Yeah, yeah, I know, the PR disaster, New Avenger assaulting reformed Veteran. That’s what I’m saying though. There was nobody there. Just me and him, and– I don’t know.”

“Do you think he was just messing with you?”

Tony shrugs. “I’m just thinking, that no matter what Princess Shuri did for him, you can’t get rid of instinct. He should have flinched. Hell, he should have blinked. Something.”

“So you think it’s the witch.”

It sounds so stupid when Rhodey says it out loud. Tony gestures up at the number.

“We did the math. With everything we know, math says she can’t extend further than a mile. Less than that.”

“So…”

“We could test it.”

The implications begin to unfold on Rhodey’s face, and Tony smiles grimly. Welcome to the predicament.

“You’re suggesting we kidnap Bucky Barnes during our next meeting with Rogers.”

“Because there will always be a next meeting.”

“Tony, no.”

“But–”

“No buts, Tony. You are suggesting murdering your PR team through stress.”

“Rhodey–”

“Do you know what you’re suggesting? We’ll have their entire crew of assassins at our door immediately. Do you know how that will look to the council? We can’t just kidnap someone to test a little theory of yours.”

“What if I’m right?”

Rhodey falls silent, protests clearly still piling up in his mind, but he doesn’t say anything.

“What if Maximoff is controlling him. I get the risks, I do, I’ll take the blame if I’m wrong. None of you need to be involved, fuck, we can say I had a relapse, something about avenging my father.”

“Tones, no–”

“I can’t get his eyes out of my head, Rhodey. He didn’t flinch. And then when Rogers came back out, he stumbled and acted as if nothing had happened. He stumbled! I didn’t know the Winter Soldier could do that.”

“Well, he’s not that anymore, is he?”

“He isn’t. Nothing about him is. I tried talking russian to him once, ages ago, and he looked at me like I was speaking chinese. He didn’t understand. Rogers was furious, and it was stupid and callous, but… What if I’m right?”

Rodey sighs and nods, looking over the holograms. Looking at the nightmare number.

“What if you’re right.”