Chapter 1
One
Siberia
It was cold.
It was so cold.
Tony looked up at the dreary sky, not able to move from the weight of the suit. If he hadn’t disabled Friday, he would have been able to let her open his suit, but he was an idiot and sent her away.
He was alone.
Despite that, he thought of his parents. He hadn’t thought of his parents in a long time, he couldn’t help but think about them as he was stuck there, in the snow. Seeing his mother choking to death by the Winter Soldier, not killing by Howard driving drunk, as he always suspected.
He didn’t have the best relationship with his parents. His non-relationship with his father was purposeful and his relationship with his mother wasn’t her fault.
Once he was old enough to process what was going on around him, which was quite young, he realized that things weren’t quite right about his home. His mother, whom he cared about, was often drugged up to the point of incoherency.
There wasn’t a lot of help for those with postpartum depression that turned into straight up depression and suicidal thoughts in the eighties. There wasn’t a lot of mental health support point blank in the eighties. Most doctors just gave very strong drugs to keep the victim of depression or PTSD not lucid at all. They just wanted the symptoms to go away, not to actually fix them.
He often saw his mother just sitting at the piano, staring listlessly at the ivory keys, mouthing stuff to herself. Jarvis or Ana were quick to guide him away from the room.
And his father… Wasn’t the same man that everyone knew from the war. No, the war turned him bitter and left him with an addiction to alcohol. Which turned him even more bitter, more mean and more violent towards those he claimed to love when he was sober.
He either yelled at Tony to leave him alone, smacked him across the face for being in the lab, undermined his accomplishments or was gone, searching for Captain America.
When his father was gone to the Arctic on one of his many trips, he was taken care of by Jarvis and his wife, Ana. They taught him a lot, things that he would have never learned from his parents.
They taught him self-defense, while Howard forced Obie to teach Tony how to shoot a gun. At age eight. Jarvis and Ana showed him how a loving married couple was supposed to act, versus Howard shoving Maria to the ground while Tony was in the room.
Slowly, Tony turned his at one-point affection for his father to resentment. He resented the alcohol he was so dependent on, he resented the lightness he made of what Maria was going through, he resented how Howard treated Jarvis and Ana and most of all, he resented Steve Rogers.
His father was obsessed with finding his lost friend, the soldier.
His father would leave for months at a time, leaving the house peaceful. Maria was usually asleep, the drugs putting her in a mindset where she was barely able to pick out her clothes, let alone taking care of her child. Ana would put on records and dance around with Tony in the living room, Jarvis watching from the doorway. Jarvis would take him with him wherever he went, if he was leaving the mansion.
And when Howard came back, it was like the whole mansion darkened. He would rage and stomp around, making everyone scatter. Tony, whose legs weren’t as long as the other residents in the house, was often in the way and more than once was sent careening into the wall.
“Captain America would hate you, you waste of air!” He at one point shouted at him.
One comment really stuck with him though, “Stark men are made of iron.” He wouldn’t say that his father was the inspiration for his superhero name but the fact that he bounced back from a lot of things despite people trying to hold him down, said a lot about his will of iron, despite his father.
Tony scoffed at the memory. As if a child crying because you dripped acid on his hand, was somehow his fault.
He would never be good enough, he would never measure up to Steve Rogers or his best friend Bucky Barnes or any of the Howling Commandos or Aunt Peggy or Howard. So, at the age of nine, he said fuck you to his father and started creating his own path.
He was shuffled off to a boarding school as soon as he could read and was only home on the breaks and it was a good thing and a bad thing. He was able to get away from Howard but he was also away from his mother.
A lot of kids would resent their mother for relying on drugs to get her through her day but not Tony. He was worried that she would accidentally overdose and he often called Jarvis and Ana and begged them to keep an eye on her. Ana saved her life a couple times due to his insistence.
And sometimes, Ana and Jarvis would save his life too.
During his breaks, he would, more often than he’d like to admit, get kidnapped.
His kidnappers would break bones over the phone to his father, who always refused to hand over any ransom money. Not a cent.
Usually Aunt Peggy or Jarvis, for whatever reason, would save him.
His father would never visit him in the hospital – his mother wouldn’t know anything about what was going on so Tony didn’t hold it against her but his father knew what was going on.
He overheard his father and Obie talking one day about his injuries, when he was released early from the hospital.
“How is he doing, Howard?” Obie leaned in, faux concerned.
“Jarvis says fine.” Howard curtly replied.
“You didn’t see him?” Obie asked, tilting his head in confusion.
“Stark men are made of iron. He needs to stop being such a pussy about it.” Howard continued his task.
Obie’s eyebrows shot up but didn’t say anything more on the subject.
Once he returned to school, he breezed past the boarding school educational requirements, and then Howard sent him off to MIT at age fifteen. Which wasn’t the best social environment for a detached, angry genius to be in. He lost his virginity quickly and became addicted to drugs and alcohol even quicker.
His grades never slipped though.
But Ana and Jarvis’ words about drugs would haunt him in his drug induced stupors and he quit that quickly. But alcohol stayed. He was like his father in that regard, unfortunately.
His father wouldn’t come to any of his award ceremonies, graduation or congratulate him at all. No, Tony was a failure. He went into computer engineering, not engineering full on. Tony knew he was an intelligent kid. He built a circuit board when he was four years old, when he was always seven, he built a V8 motorbike engine, went to college at fifteen, won awards at age sixteen for Robotics and graduated from MIT at age 17.
He knew he was being groomed to take over his father’s position and wanted to give him the middle finger while still completing the studies he wanted to. Tony firmly believed that technology was the future.
But he was like his father in a few regards, unfortunately. He was good looking and used that to his advantage, gaining lovers of both sexes alike. But when his parents were killed when he was 21, he knew that he had to tone it back. And he became more closed off with his affection.
It wasn’t to say that he didn’t love Pepper. He did. He thought he always would in some way. She taught him a lot. A lot about love and about life. But it was clear that they weren’t the be all, end all for each other.
Tony knew he was a lot. He was a lot to deal with. Some people can hang with that, some cannot. And he really thought she could hang, but she couldn’t.
She requested that they give their relationship a break.
But Tony knew what that meant. It meant they weren’t getting back together.
And perhaps it was for the best. He had PTSD, he had anxiety, he makes mistakes, he’s a human being… But maybe it was too much for Pepper. And she was a great woman, she deserved the best. Maybe he wasn’t the best.
The cold was making him sleepy. He worried this would be the last time he would open his eyes.
Last time he’d see Rhodey – his best friend, who was paralyzed due to his call to action, last time he’d talk to Harley, last time he’d see Peter, so many more things he wanted to accomplish that he would never have the chance to.
He wasn’t ready to go – to not open his eyes again and invent again.
He looked around at his surroundings and he really needed to close his eyes and though he fought it, he fell asleep.
Pepper looked at her phone during a brief recess of the meeting she was currently in.
FRIDAY? She wrote.
Miss Potts. FRIDAY replied.
Status report.
Colonel Rhodes is currently at 85% likelihood of being paralyzed. Boss’ suit is still online but he has ejected me from the suit, and I am unable to communicate.
Where is Rhodes?
He is at the hospital in Berlin, the closest specialist to where he was injured.
Get me a plane there, now.
Ticket order #129466745 from Moscow, Russia to Berlin, Germany leaving in one hour. Estimated journey time: six hours and two minutes, no stops. Would you like to confirm?
Confirmed.
Attached is your order number.
Thank you, FRIDAY.
You’re welcome, Miss Potts.
“We will definitely look over the contract, Miss Potts. Would Mr. Stark be able to pencil in a visit?” The representative of Moscow’s translator asked as they filed back into the room.
“I will try and insist. He was very eager to start working with this company. Specifically asked for me to arrange this meeting.” Pepper replied.
An aide rushed in and spoke rapidly in Russian.
The representative made some aggressive movements and the aide grabbed the TV remote, which she almost dropped in her rush to turn on the TV.
Pepper watched as the Russian news played the battle.
She watched as Tony, Rhodey, a red and blue suited male, a black cat-like figure went up against Captain America and his allies. Her hand rose to her mouth, tears rising in her eyes as she watched as Rhodey went down. She turned away as she watched the Scarlet Witch drop car after car on Tony. FRIDAY did tell her about the situation in Siberia but it was a whole other thing to view it in real time.
She pulled out her phone and opened it. Normally, she wouldn’t do that, but she needed to speak with FRIDAY.
Miss Potts, you need to leave now to catch your plane. There is a driver outside and I have sent your luggage with the driver.
You’re the best, FRIDAY.
Thank you, Miss Potts.
“I’m terribly sorry, gentlemen, but I need to get to Germany. I have a plane leaving in an hour.” Pepper stood up and gathered her papers and put them in her briefcase.
“We understand.” The translator told her as the other representatives spoke rapidly in Russian. “We wish Mr. Stark and War Machine a speedy recovery.”
“Thank you.” Her voice cracked, the only sign that she was stressed. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Thank you. I regret that we couldn’t get further in this meeting. Perhaps a teleconference will suffice.” The representatives nodded. “I will arrange that soon, hopefully with Tony there.”
“We look forward to it. We are eager to work with Stark Industries.” The translator answered for all of them.
She nodded and shook everyone’s hand and made her way to the door.
A driver was waiting outside for her.
“Airport, Miss Potts?” He asked.
“Yes.” She said sharply
“Yes, ma’am.” He meekly replied as he shut the door behind her and went around the car and got into the driver’s seat.
“Quickly, please.” She opened her phone and answered a few emails from the ever so delicate Board of Directors. Please, Tony has done much crazier things, but she would reassure them all the same.
A text came through.
Happy Hogan.
She clicked the message.
You okay? He was concerned. She sighed, looking out the window.
She always knew Happy, he was always there, in the peripheral of her life with Tony. When she requested a break, she had asked Happy on a date. It was 2016, women could totally do that now. He said he would, and they had gone on several dates and she considered him to be an exclusive significant other, but Tony was always on the back of her mind. She loved Tony, she always would. But Happy was steady, calm. She was a calm person, but Tony needed someone emotionally stronger than she was. She couldn’t handle the fear of losing him, the guilt of not answering the phone when he called her before he thought he was going to die – because she was too busy watching the battle unfold on TV.
She knew she had to end it. No breaks, no maybe we will get back together. Completely ended.
She loved Tony but maybe she could love Happy more.
It wasn’t that she never talked to Tony, she did, she talked to him about SI business only. Usually through emails, rarely on the phone. She took her things from the Tower when he was away, which may have been a bitch move but she never claimed to be an angel. She just wanted it to be over, like ripping off a band aid.
She knew that Tony had a lot going on with the Avengers, with his inventing and his company was always on his mind, no matter how much he wanted to portray otherwise.
“Ma’am, we’re here.” The driver told her.
“Oh good.” She happily climbed out of the cab, leaving a tip for the driver in his hand. She felt a little bad about her snapping. He smiled gratefully.
“Safe slight, ma’am.” He bowed his head.
“Health and happiness.” She inclined her head at him. It was something she had started saying in her tenure as CEO. She was influenced by a lot of Asian culture and she thought it was nice and the phrase fit in with her recent obsession with yoga classes and finding inner peace.
She made her way quickly through the airport and was waiting outside the gate.
She realized she hadn’t answered Happy and saw there was more from him.
Have you heard from Tony?
No, I haven’t. Pepper replied. I’m on my way to Germany to see Rhodes. I’m his emergency, he wasn’t sure he could trust Tony to do it.
Okay, keep in touch. Happy replied.
I will.
“Flight 9682 – to Berlin now boarding.” A voice came over. She rose and made her way in line, flashing her ticket on her phone and shuffling along with everyone else.
Berlin, here I come.
Pepper stepped off the commercial plane and into another car, making her way to a private airport, where she would take a specific plane to the hospital. Way too much travel for one day. Hopefully she wouldn’t catch anything.
“Miss Potts, welcome.” An aide greeted her as she entered the hangar.
“Where is Rhodes?” Pepper asked, briskly,
“Still in surgery.” The aide replied. Pepper frowned deeply, her body sagging, despite her wanting to seem strong.
“So, it’s true, then? Rhodey’s possibly paralyzed and god knows where Tony is. Have you heard from him?” She asked, not wanting to hear the answer. If she said that he was missing out loud, then it would be true. And she couldn’t handle that. Not when the last thing she told him, aside from SI business, was she wanted to take a break from their relationship. And he could be laying somewhere, hurt, he could be kidnapped, anything could be happening. And all the what-if’s were flashing around her mind, quicker than she could quiet them.
“We haven’t heard anything. We don’t know for sure. We don’t really know anything. All we know is his suit connection was hard to connect with, verified by his AI. We haven’t heard from her or him since, I assume she is still trying to get through. And that was a day ago.” The aide gestured for Miss Potts to follow her.
“Where was the last signal?” Miss Potts asked.
“It was the oddest thing, on the outskirts of Russia…” The aide responded.
“I was just there.” She sighed, maybe she should have stayed put.
Pepper followed the aide out of the main hanger, walking past Tony’s private two-person plane that he preferred near him, navigated mostly by his AI’s. JARVIS originally and now FRIDAY.
“Colonel Rhodes is in more critical condition. The chopper is over here, Miss Potts.”
Pepper nodded. At the moment, Rhodes was more important. She needed to make some serious decisions for his safety.
Pepper climbed into the helicopter and put on the ear protectors.
It had been over fifteen hours later that she felt her phone vibrate and she opened the screen.
She swore violently, causing the aide to look at her. Damn it, Tony.
Miss Potts, my sensors indicate that Boss’ suit has been forcefully powered down.
Peter was sneaking around the small airport a few hours after Mr. Stark disappeared.
Mr. Stark ordered someone to send him home but, in the chaos, following the Germany airport situation, he was able to sneak away. He hid in some rafters, wanting to know what was happening. But no one was saying anything in the hangar.
Then, an aide appeared in the hangar, pressed a finger to her earpiece and talked quietly. But due to his spider enhanced abilities, he could hear the words.
“Miss Potts has arrived.” She mouthed the words almost silently.
Peter moved silently following the aide, greeting Mr. Stark’s girlfriend.
They had a quiet conversation, getting closer to where Peter was hanging from the ceiling. He could just hear their conversation.
“Where was the last signal?” Miss Potts asked.
“It was the oddest thing, on the outside of Russia…” The aide responded and went out of hearing distance of the two women.
Peter looked down, thinking to himself.
Mr. Stark was a mentor to him, he found him through YouTube and gave him a basic upgrade to his suit, better than the basic suit he had crafted himself and the self-made web fluid. He had always looked up to Mr. Stark – not only because of Iron Man but because of the head of Stark Industries, looked up to even more as they got out of the weapons industry.
Mr. Stark was an entire course at his school, Midtown. They talked about his revolutionary technological advances, how young he was when he made his first accomplishments. Sure, the teachers didn’t like to talk about his alcohol dependency and the number of lovers he went through, but he was a gleaming example of where pure intelligence could get you.
He had countless patents, tons of products clogging the market and his business model was erratic and impossible to pin down, let alone replicate.
Peter especially admired his ingenious tech advances and how he constantly kept improving and tried to help everyone, including the little guy. He helped clean up after the Avengers after the Chitauri invasion, he didn’t see any other Avengers try and help, each of them absorbed into their own lives and jobs after the fight was finished. But Tony arranged for cleaning of the city and to help the families of those who died in the altercation.
And the people are what he was all about. He was the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. He cared about the little guy.
What his Uncle Ben would say, “With great power comes great responsibility.”
And Tony Stark exemplified that and he tried to emulate that behavior and that was how Spider-Man was born.
And something about the conversation he just witnessed made his Spidey-sense tingle. Something he knew he had to do.
His eyes caught on a small plane, whose door was left ajar.
Something inside him said, get your spider butt in there.
He looked before sneaking aboard the plane, looking around, seeing if anyone would yell at him being in there.
But there wasn’t a sound to be heard.
He sat in the pilot seat, looking at the sea of knobs and buttons. He stretched out a hand and pulled it back.
“Peter, this is FRIDAY, Mr. Stark’s AI. I can assist in driving the plane. This is Mr. Stark’s private plane.” FRIDAY’s Irish lilt to her voice came through strongly. He jumped.
“Uh, how can I hear you?” Peter yelped. He recognized FRIDAY’s distinct voice from Mr. Stark’s phone from the limited times they met up to discuss suit modifications and from hearing her when Mr. Stark had his faceplate open and he would be responding to her.
“Boss put an emergency link in your suit that I can remote into. I think this constitutes as an emergency. I need a physical body to help me assist Boss. That is the one thing I lack.”
“Okay...” Peter drew out the word. “Um, is this kidnapping? Because I really think my Aunt would disapprove.”
“As if your Aunt would approve of your superhero status?” FRIDAY asked dryly.
“Um, fair enough.” Peter mumbled.
“Where were you headed?” FRIDAY asked.
“I want to see if Mr. Stark is okay.” Peter said quietly. “I have a feeling.” He couldn’t quantify it and as a science geek, that made him uneasy, but he felt he had to do something.
FRIDAY was silent for a few moments.
“I will direct you to where we last made contact. We have the same goals: to find Boss.” FRIDAY firmly stated. “If I am within a certain distance, I will be able to find it.”
“Alright, FRIDAY. Punch it.” Peter smirked slightly, laughing to himself at the Star Trek reference, before removing his mask and running his hands through his hair. The plane’s door closed, Peter saw as employees started coming out and waving their hands, trying to get them to stop.
Peter waved cheerily even if they couldn’t see him.
“Stark-01, you do not have permission to fly, repeat, do not have permission to fly.” A voice came over the plane’s intercom.
“This is FRIDAY, I always have permission.” FRIDAY tartly replied. The wheels started moving and picking up speed and Peter kept his eyes open as they started to ascend.
“So, what is it like being Mr. Stark’s AI like?” Peter asked the AI once they were up in the air.
“Stressful.” FRIDAY replied, her sarcasm coming through.
“Didn’t think you could get stressed.” Peter remarked.
“Me either.” FRIDAY’s amused voice came through.
A nerve filled, anxiety ridden twenty-three hours later, they landed in Siberia.
Peter was filled with nerves and thoughts of the worst situations that he could fathom.
He felt better with FRIDAY integrated into his suit, she directed him to the local radar signal she had of Boss’ suit. A drone followed them on their journey.
North, northwest, northeast, east…
Then Peter saw the bunker that he then dismissed in his panic. He rushed forward, scanning the snow for the trademark red and gold.
He caught a glint and charged forward and stopped as he saw the state of the Iron Man suit. FRIDAY didn’t say anything, she was trying to analyze the damage she saw to the suit.
Peter surged forward and sank to his knees as he saw the pallor of his mentor.
He couldn’t be dead.
He just couldn’t.
He just started learning all that Mr. Stark had to teach him. So many more days they could have in the lab, building things together.
“There is life in the suit.” FRIDAY told Peter through their commlink and a huge weight went off his shoulders and he sagged in relief. But he wanted to see for himself. Not that he didn’t trust Friday.
He was extraordinarily pale – almost dead. He took off his glove and pressed two fingers to his neck, right below his chin and he felt a pulse – it was faint, but it was there.
He saw a huge dent in the chest of the Iron Man suit, and he bit back a sob.
He went after the latches that opened the Iron Man suit.
“It would be safer to do so in the plane, without the cold hurting Boss.” FRIDAY helpfully told him.
Peter’s fingers fell to his side.
The last thing he would want to do was hurt Mr. Stark anymore.
Peter looped his arms under the Iron Man suit and made his way to his feet with the suit in his arms. He stepped forward, snow and ice cracking under his feet at the weight and made his way back to the plane, the drone whirring behind him as they walked back to the plane.