Legendary

It was difficult going for awhile. I was referred to a professional therapist, the PhD candidate I'd been seeing felt inadequate for the depth of my issues. So that kind of sucked. But my new therapist, although she didn't hurry me along, expected me to work on my issues. I might always not make progress, but as long as I was trying we were ok. Complicating the process was that I caught sight of the Joker a few times. There wasn't really anything that could be done. All three times, I was out in public, couldn't prove it wasn't just a coincidence. Besides, I didn't know where he was living (the address he gave was as fake as his name. Farceur was French for a joker or comedian) or what he was up to, but I started having the nightmares again. The ones where I was paralyzed were the worst.

Bucky helped with the arrangements for Steve and Emma's wedding, serving as the Best Man of Honor--they didn't have anybody else in their wedding party. It was a lovely ceremony, held in the garden on top of the tower (fortunately the weather was beautiful that day, if a little crisp) and followed by hors d'oeuvres and drinks. Howard and Maria Stark had gotten a last minute invitation, and I got to meet these shadowy figures from Tony's life at last. I was unimpressed, frankly. The afterlife didn't seem to have done either of them any favors; Maria seemed nice, but she was too weak to stand up to Howard. Emma was thrilled to see her mentor again and they and Steve had a great time together, Maria discreetly fading into the background. I teamed up with Ann to keep Tony out of the bourbon, but finally I had to drag him off to the side for a little pep talk.

"Listen to me, Tony," I said, catching his chin in my fingers to make him look at me. Despite our efforts, he was a little drunk. "I know you crave your dad's approval for a lot of reasons. As a dad, as someone you want to validate your work. But you need to accept the fact that he might just not be capable of giving you what you need. Look at yourself and what you've accomplished. You built Stark Industries into one of the world's great companies. You created Iron Man so that you could do the right thing. I did some checking, and there's always been Iron Man toys on the shelves, and public opinion shows that the public still has more trust in Iron Man than they do in Congress. Look at the people who respect, admire, and love you. You were instrumental in saving the Bifrost, without which almost everybody would still be stuck on Asgard, which would have been cut off from the Nine Realms, and the work you did with the siege engines during the battle was very important. And all these accomplishments are only a little of what you're capable of. Look at what you're doing now, working on important environmental issues, building a new business which, knowing you, will be the basis of a new empire. You have a wonderful woman by your side, working with you as well as going home with you. You may want his approval, but you don't need it, Sparky." I tapped his chest over the mass of scars where his arc reactor used to be. "You can believe me when I tell you that if your father remains distant and critical, that's his defect, not yours. You are a wonderful person, and one of my best friends. I am proud to know you."

He was silent a moment, the alcohol slowing his brain slightly. "Easier said than done," he said, and I nodded.

"Sure is, but it doesn't mean that it isn't true. You keep thinking he's this great man, but he's just a really successful businessman. He's a terrible father, although he might be a better husband." I made my voice more soothing. "You two might never have the relationship you want. If you can't, you need to let it go and find another dream. Like maybe a family with Ann. Be the dad you wished you had." His head snapped up at that. We stared at each other for a couple of minutes, then I nodded. He reared back a little.

"Huh," he said. "I never pictured myself as a dad."

"You were a great godfather to my kids," I pointed out. "Even changed their diapers. You have a lot to offer a child, Tony. Give it some thought."

Looking abstracted, he wandered off in search of Ann. I smiled, then emptied his bourbon into a potted plant and gave the glass to a waiter. I touched base with my uncle, then Steve and Emma left for their honeymoon in India. Bucky slipped away shortly after that, going on his road trip. I looked around and saw Tony and Ann talking to Maria, which was good. The tower caterers were cleaning up, and it was time to head off myself. I had a brief, unpleasant conversation with Howard Stark that reinforced my opinion of him as a jackass, then I went to a therapy appointment.

After a nap with Eira and a walk, I went to dinner with Damian. Things were carefully casual until after we'd ordered. "Here's the thing," I said, buttering a roll. Yum. "I understand what happened, that Alexander thought he had a good chance to get information. The Joker was allowing Alexander to get the information for his own purposes, but that's not really relevant for this discussion. It kept dragging on, and he wouldn't stop, and you two didn't want to admit what had been going on because you knew I'd be angry and hurt. Is that a good summary?"

"It's fair," Damian said. "But what do you mean about the Joker?"

"He identified Alexander pretty quickly and let him have a place in his gang," I said. "I think he did that to feed information about his competitors and to get on my good side. I've seen him a couple of times, from a distance. Did Alexander report anything especially heinous that the Joker's doing? Because I think he was keeping his nose clean for the spy, but now that he's unmonitored he'll go back to his old businesses."

"He said that the Joker was dealing in false identities, theft from government warehouses, bootlegging, of all things--cheap spirits. There's a huge market because there are so many people who are still in the process of getting resettled and employed, who aren't adjusting to returning to life, one of a hundred reasons."

I snorted. "I'll bet fifty dollars that he's going back to his old trades--drugs, prostitution, human trafficking. Whatever's the most lucrative these days. Since sex workers still aren't legal, there's room for a lot of abuse and profit."

"Shit," Damian said. "It makes sense. There's one player who's got girls out on street corners in Staten Island, the Bronx, making inroads into Queens. We don't know who it is yet, and there are rumors of some chemists setting up shop for somebody pretty far up the criminal food chain." He studied me. "You're looking pale, Alex, and I can see black circles under your eyes despite the makeup. Are you sleeping enough?"

"Not really. I have nightmares. Some of them are about what happened during the battle. Others are the old reruns. And yes, I'm seeing somebody."

"I was wrong to keep the information about Xander from you, Alex. I can't say it enough, and I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. I owed you the truth. I didn't live up to my wedding vows and I...I'm sorry. It was wrong."

"It caused me to question our entire marriage," I said quietly. "I don't know what else you withheld from me."

"Nothing like this. I didn't give you details about my other job, but you never asked for them. But I never covered up anything, Alex. I know that now it's hard for you to believe me, but this thing with Xander is the first and only thing of its kind."

I was silent as the waiter brought our plates and refilled my water glass. Suddenly, I was just desperately tired. Almost, but not quite tired enough, not to savor my dinner.

"I accept your apology, Damian," I said after a few fortifying bites. "But I don't know where to go from here. I feel like something's been broken."

"Something has been broken, Alex, your trust and faith in me. I did that." He looked at me and touched the back of my hand gently, tentatively. "What do you want?"

"I want for none of this to have happened," I said. It came out as more of a wail than I'd like to admit.

"Well, I can't go back and change the past, no matter how much I want to," he said. "But I have a proposal to make." I looked at him inquiringly. "I have to show that I'm worthy of your trust again. You can't just have your faith restored in an instant, I need to earn it. So what I'm proposing is this. This," he said, gesturing around. "Dating. Getting to know each other again. You letting me try to earn your respect. Because I will do anything I have to to get you back. If it's possible."

I felt a little lightheaded with relief. "Slow steps," I said, and he smiled. It was the first full smile I'd seen from him that night, I realized.

"I'll crawl if you need me too," he said.

"I don't think that will be necessary," I said, and took my next bite with a warmer heart.

After that, the atmosphere lightened up a lot. He asked about what I was thinking of doing, asking thoughtful questions and commenting intelligently about the program at Columbia I was applying for. I asked what he was doing these days, and he'd accepted Tony and Ann's offer to helm their new business.

"What did you think of his parents?" he asked.

"Maria seems to love her son, but she's too weak to achieve family peace. If I had to judge, I'd say her loyalties are more with her husband than her son. Howard's just a jackass. Cynical and kind of... brittle? Treats his wife more like a possession. Too ambitious for morality to be more than a surface affectation. Apparently somebody mentioned that Bucky's my uncle, so that automatically put him against me. I can understand that, after all, Bucky did kill him and his wife while he was brainwashed. But there was an insult directed toward his son about sleeping with the enemy, said that everything I'd achieved was a result of who I know." Damian's eyes narrowed. "It stung, because I did get career boosts because of who I knew. But I wouldn't have kept achieving if it hadn't been for what I could do on my own."

"Damn straight," Damian said.

"I had to restrain myself from kicking him off the roof," I said moodily. "But I doubt I'll see him much. He was dismissive about his son, so I think he'll probably stay in DC."

"Daniel said that he's been in contact about acquiring the Stark company," Damian said unexpectedly. This time it was my eyes that narrowed.

"Martha acquired Stark fair and square," I said. "And Howard doesn't have the money to buy it back."

"He might get backers. But Daniel doesn't want to sell, the older tech and patents are still valuable and the new stuff developed as part of Wayne is very profitable," Damian said, and we ordered dessert. I got chocolate mousse made with bittersweet chocolate and Bailey's whipped cream, and he got apple pie with a scoop of vanilla bean French custard-style ice cream. We traded bites; the pie was spiced with allspice and cloves as well as cinnamon, different and delicious.

"What about the name and trademarks, though? The name is important." I'd have to talk to Daniel about whether the purchase of just that much was possible and what it would cost. Because Tony could use that as a springboard...

"It shouldn't cost too much," Damian said, reading my mind. "He wouldn't be buying the existing business or the patents. Daniel's given some thoughts to what it would take to absorb the actual business into Wayne if he sold the Stark name, ran it past the board. They're resistant to selling the IP, but the trademarks are a different story." My fingers twitched. Damian grinned at me. "Go ahead, send the text," he said indulgently. "Your loyalty to your friends is one of your many admirable qualities." I swiftly sent an inquiry to my grandson. I had some rights as a third owner of the company.

"It doesn't upset you that Tony and I are still close?"

"No," he said. "We weren't together and there wasn't the possibility of it at the time you and Stark were involved. And it's over, both of you have moved on and I don't think there's anything romantic between you anymore. There's love, yes, but I really see it as platonic."

I exhaled in relief. "You're right, but I needed to hear your thoughts. I can't just dump my friends."

"I don't want you to," he said. My communicator buzzed, and I looked at the text. For just the right to use the Stark name and the associated trademarks for a new business, he would sell it--to Tony-- for five million.

"Wow," I said. "There are pro sports stadiums that cost more for naming rights each year."

Damian had his device out and was tapping furiously. "I'm advising Tony to jump on this. With the initial capital they have, they can afford it." We'd barely finished our desserts and started in on tea and coffee when Tony and Ann ok'ed it. Damian looked at me. "We should have your consent too, as a third owner of the company." I smiled.

"Have Daniel draw up the papers," I said. "Let's get this done as soon as possible."

He laughed. "You're something else," he said fondly. Daniel would get things started the next morning. Damian started planning to acquire all sorts of trademarks so as to limit Howard's ability to use the name for whatever business he was planning, shooting off a message to the new firm's lawyers.

I realized that this was something I loved about him: how well we worked together. It didn't seem weird to be doing business when he just pledged to rebuild my trust in him, even if it wasn't romantic. It was more than romantic, I thought. It reminded me about his other good qualities and how well we fit together. And I didn't think he was doing it with an ulterior motive; it was just something that we'd always done.

"So why did you accept Tony and Ann's offer to be the CEO of their new company?" I asked curiously.

"Well, there's not really room for me in Wayne these days, Daniel has everything well in hand and I didn't want him to find some made-up work for me to do. So looking elsewhere, there's Starks' proven track record, the very real need that they're looking to fill. They're going to need somebody who's dedicated and skilled at the helm. And it's going to be interesting and exciting. Plus they offered me a one percent share of the company." His bright blue eyes twinkled at me and I laughed. I'd forgotten about that one percent--Ann, Tony, and I had thirty three percent each.

After the surprisingly comfortable dinner, he walked me to my apartment building and saw me safely inside. I didn't really want to admit it, but I felt better with the escort. I know, me the big bad valkyrie being afraid of a little street crime, but it wasn't that, it was the Joker. How helpless I'd been when he'd used Ivy's toxin on me. My wings and hard-won skills would mean exactly squat if he used that or something like it again, and although I didn't really want to admit it to myself or anyone else, that scared the tar out of me. The building had good security that would provide a nice first layer of protection, but I was back to putting a chair under the doorknob of the front door. And thank goodness for doorknobs. I'd have thought by now that we'd have those portals like in Star Trek that automatically opened for you. I preferred the security of a good old-fashioned physical barrier.

The next day I received a delivery of daisies, with a website and a request for a date that Friday on the card. I smiled, put the flowers in water, and looked up the website. "New beginnings." Eira sniffed, begrudgingly approving, and we went to therapy. She accompanied me; it was helpful to hug her and she didn't mind a few tears on her fur. After that she was rewarded with a trip to the Asgardian embassy, where she could run freely on the grass and play. The Asgardians enjoyed seeing one of their special dogs on Midgard, and it raised my status quite a lot, I was finding out, that she'd picked me as her companion. We were scheduled to go back to Asgard the next week so she could visit her mom, who hadn't been entirely happy that her puppy decided to leave home so young. I wanted to show that I was a responsible caregiver and companion, and Eira deserved time with more of her own species.

Thursday I dropped in on Tony again. Ann was out doing some preliminary testing on the beach. "I wondered if you could make me some sort of tracker again, Sparky," I asked as Eira, having received a good skritch and a Milk Bone from Tony, ambled off to find Torburn and Sigurd, but mostly Torburn. He played with her the most. They were being cared for at the tower during Steve and Emma's honeymoon. He leaned back in his chair and looked at me thoughtfully, so I explained that I'd seen the Joker, that I'd talked to him, and that I was nervous about it. He didn't know all that the Joker had done to me in the past, but he knew enough. "Plus there's Talia and R'as. I don't know them at all, but I don't think they've left, and Talia really doesn't like me. It might come out to be nothing," I said, trying to convince myself. I sure didn't fool him.

"Yeah, that's simple enough," he said. "Even if it only provides you peace of mind, it's worth it. Give me a few days." We agreed that I'd come back on Monday. "I'll probably encode the tracker with emergency numbers before giving it to you. Who do you want?"

"You?" I asked, and he nodded, flicking his hand.

"Of course. Who else?"

"Damian, Bucky, Steve, Carol, Dagny, and Serena," I decided. "I'll want the cavalry if it comes to that, and it provides some protection with gaps, like with my uncle being on his road trip, or if somebody just can't get away from work."

He snorted a laugh, then we talked about other things, my date with Damian, the new space for the lab down by the waterfront, the acquisition of the Stark name and trademarks. He made a call and a notary came down to witness my signature on the documents as a business partner. Mine was the last one, and the notary took the pages back up to Daniel, who was there for the day. I came along; I didn't see my grandson enough.

"Excellent," Daniel said with satisfaction, leafing through the pages before summoning a courier to take it to the lawyers. He smirked at me. "I don't really like Howard Stark. He's got the attitude of somebody who skates on the edge of legality when it suits him, and I wouldn't be surprised if he crosses the line easily for marginal gain. Plus he's intending to go back into weapons development, my sources tell me. I don't approve of that, we have more than sufficient existing ways to kill each other, and I'm not going to assist that in any way."

"Howard might have offered more money," I said.

"It's not all about the immediate offer of money," Daniel shrugged. "We get a good chunk of money we can use right now, plus the PR department is on this, they'll be spinning it as an exciting new venture from the first big name in environmentally sound energy. It'll be good for our brand and public perception of the company, and it's possible that Stark and Ann and I will develop a closer working relationship, leading to more opportunities. Besides, it's not like Wayne won't benefit from it still."

"I noticed the partnership aspect," I said. "Wayne gets the first crack at manufacturing any solutions Tony and Ann come up with for the market."

"Stark balked a bit, but it only applies to this first venture. I expect that he'll branch out into other fields and technologies before too long, expanding. There will be other opportunities then, and the company will have access to high-quality manufacturing and distribution networks with Wayne. Plus this frees them up to focus on R&D."

"And Damian will make all the trains run on time," I noted. "It's a good set up for everybody."

"Glad you like it," Mark said, coming in and kissing my cheek before patting his son's shoulder and sitting down. "It's going to be my first campaign." We talked a little more before I left so they could get their work done.

Friday I got my admittance to Columbia in the mail, starting spring semester, and access to the competency modules I'd need to complete before then online. I got online and did some work on that before looking into how to get Eira certified as a psychiatric service animal. I frowned. I didn't like the idea of that much, mostly because it slapped a big ol' label of 'disabled' on me, but my therapist diagnosed me with PTSD as well as a budding anxiety disorder at the last session. I was becoming less willing to places after dark, increasingly worried about being followed, being in crowds bothered me, and my nightmares were hitting a whole new level of special that combined specific elements of the Joker's torture along with images from battle. And sometimes Talia would be in the background, watching. I'd left the session with a prescription for that oldie but goodie Xanax for short term treatment. I hadn't started it yet and might not, although I had it filled, just in case. Because Eira was intelligent and understood what people said, it was easy for her to focus and avoid distraction. She already served some of the functions of a psychiatric service animal by interrupting panic, waking me up from nightmares, monitoring crowds when I got anxious, and sweeping our apartment when we got home. There wasn't a training program for service animals that was required, just a list of behaviors they'd had to master, and I went over these things with her, explaining what they were and why they were important, asking if she'd mind doing this for me. She was agreeable, wanting to defend her chosen person, so I ordered her a service vest with the appropriate patches denoting status as a service dog and asking others not to pet while she was on duty.

"This sucks," I told her. "I did the PTSD thing after that kidnapping thing, I did the therapy. I shouldn't have to do it again, I should be fixed. But maybe you won't have to do this much." But my therapist told me it didn't always work like that. I was gearing up for a battle with my own mind, one that wasn't going to be easy to win. Claudette, my therapist, told me that it wasn't really a matter of doing battle, either with myself or the things that were messing me up, but to me it was. I liked to think of it that way. Battles were things I could win. I missed Bucky more than ever, although Aunt Becca was a great stand-in; she just didn't have the same depth of relationship that I had with my uncle, who also knew what I'd gone through. And my grandpa promptly took over Bucky's ice cream duties. It was fun to have a grandpa.

I suspected that between my therapy and school prep, I wasn't going to have a lot of time to indulge in a grudge, so I called my son. He was flatteringly eager to hear from me and proposed a late lunch, which I accepted.

He'd gotten there a little before me and gotten a booth. The high backs of the benches made it a little more private. We ordered before Alexander burst out with an apology for being selfish and singleminded. "I kind of dragged Dad into agreeing to it. Grandpa was fine with it because of the information I had. We all knew I was ok, so it wasn't hard to delude ourselves that it was ok not to tell anybody else. I didn't consider how you'd feel about the deception, and I'm sorry. But given what you said about the Joker, reevaluating the information, I'm not sure if it's even accurate, so it was for nothing."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that the parts that aren't about the Joker are accurate," I said dryly. "But you don't know him. You've never really seen what he's capable of doing. And he's changed since he's been returned. I don't know how, and that worries me. Do not underestimate his cunning or his depravity. I think he's just hiding his true face for now."

He nodded. There was silence as our sandwiches were served and fresh drinks brought. "I'm just really sorry I hurt you, Mom," he said. He looked near tears.

"You going to do anything like that again?" I asked.

"No," he said with finality. "I need to get in the habit of being more open. I might not give a lot of detail, but I swear I won't do that to you again, Mom. I took you for granted. I thought it was just a matter of you being on my side."

"I am on your side," I objected. "I just need you to be on my side too."

"I understand that. Now," he said with a half-hearted grin. "I promise." For a second, I could see the earnest Cub Scout he'd once been.

I left the lunch feeling better; at least things were on the mend with my son too.