Atonement
I went home feeling pretty awful. I'd always assumed that if I'd ever get the chance to unload on Tony Stark, I'd feel better, but if anything, I felt worse. I'd allowed my resentment and anger to fester and affect my life. Like Tony Stark, I needed to get my shit together and shape up, but my reasons and needs were different. I didn't want to be bitter and angry, resentful that Tony Stark was not his father. I acknowledged that I'd idolized Mr Stark; I'd been willing to overlook his occasional flare of temper, his conceit too, and there were times he'd treated us all like a troupe of trained monkeys that would hop to his bidding. I could remember a time when going to work was the precious center of my life because of my fellow researchers and the work we pursued. As a team, unified. That part of my life was over, and I accepted it, but there was no reason for not moving forward, seething over an accident that had changed me. I felt shame; I'd felt so good pointing out Stark's flaws that I ignored my own. I felt a little like a bully although Stark was more than capable of defending himself; I'd had a good idea of where to hit so it hurt the most. Everybody who'd worked for the current Stark knew how defensive he was about his dad.
I sat in my sublet and thought about that for a good long time as the light faded. It had really been hard to part with the vibranium sample; I'd wanted to test it, experiment with the extraordinary metal for so long, but it was a bribe and I knew it. The terms of the letter had been that if I had lunch with the group I could have the metal, and I hadn't made it through the meal. Now I was wondering why the bribe; that sample, pure vibranium, was worth over a million dollars, and it was about the size of my thumb. It didn't make sense.
I got up and made some mac and cheese; I'd skipped most of my lunch and now that I was working on my problems rather than just wallowing, I felt entitled to be hungry. I'd picked up my mail on the way in and now I opened the box from Amazon that had been waiting for me. Textbooks on cell biology, anatomy and physiology. Since I couldn't build a forge in the back yard of my sublet, I'd decided to move on my big secret worry. I was really worried that I might need medical intervention some day and I didn't want to die because I couldn't have a life-saving surgery. So I thought that maybe I could learn to maintain my body on the inside by shifting things around. Cholesterol plaques? Maybe I could learn how to break them down enough to be swept away by the bloodstream. Learn how to stimulate my body's defenses so that cancers didn't get out of control, break up blood clots. Or maybe figure out how to separate my skin on the cellular level so that a surgery could be performed. There were a lot of possibilities. I didn't have the seemingly endless cash flow Stark did, but I still had a huge chunk. As I'd said, more than I could spend in my lifetime. Maybe it was time to set up a lab of my own. And maybe this could be the first project of my new lab, employees: 1. Maybe, if I could learn how to manipulate cells like I did metals, I could help other people. I flinched away at the though of the troubles that could cause: how would I decide to help? Would it be right to charge somebody for helping to save their lives? I'm not a doctor; could I be arrested for practicing medicine without a license? My eye started to twitch. Maybe I should just figure out how to fix myself and then concentrate on metals again. I liked metals and coatings and films. I was good with them. Or if I could manipulate cells, did I have a moral obligation to use that ability to help others? Gah. All those questions and I had no answers. First things first. Learn about the body and see if I can achieve some of my goals. Then I could decide what to do then.
Feeling better, I put the dishes in the dishwasher. I liked Seattle a lot more than I'd expected and thought that this wouldn't be a bad place to finally put down roots. I decided to do the weekly cleaning a little early and puttered around with a Swiffer, pausing at the library. I read the titles on one shelf and smiled, the first big, genuine smile I'd smiled in years. If I was going to reinvent myself, maybe it was time to branch out and learn things I'd never made time for in the past. Get my head out of the lab for a bit. My mom always said I could do anything I wanted; maybe now I should see if she was right. I was doing the same thing I accused Stark of doing--reacting to a crisis rather than taking deliberate, reasoned action. Now I felt remorse for unloading on Stark and for brooding and festering. It struck me that the reason Tony Stark and I got along like matter and anti matter was that we suffered some of the same character flaws. It probably wasn't the best time to go off half-cocked. I finished dusting and turned on my laptop, opening the website for the University of Washington and looking at their academic departments. I could get a doctorate in materials science. Or maybe Scandanavian Studies. I grinned. Maybe I'd go in for general studies and spend my time in the wildest, most out-there classes that the huge university had to offer.
Well, I wasn't going to jump into anything new tonight. I'd take some time, explore my options. Maybe see a career counselor. I picked up my textbook on anatomy and sat down in the comfiest chair. While wider career goals could wait, I still needed to see if I could find a workaround for my particular problem.
I had just read the introduction when the doorbell rang.