Remember
“Okay, I think that’s all the information we need for now,” the councilmember was saying, and Jay internally breathed a sigh of relief. The debrief with the Accords council had taken hours, with the councilmembers wanting every detail he could remember about what Ross had said and done, about what he’d seen.
The team had been right there beside him the whole time, answering questions about the rescue and how exactly that had been coordinated. The council had been intrigued by JARVIS’s involvement, exchanging calculating looks, and Jay knew they were considering what all his AIs could be used for in the future; he’d kept his descriptions of his AIs’ capabilities purposefully vague as both Tony and Jay, worried about what liberties the council might try to take with them since AIs were in a particularly grey legal area – especially since he had the only ones that were advanced enough to be dangerous. But now the cat was out of the bag, and he made a mental note to ask JARVIS and FRIDAY to help him research any potential legal loopholes he could exploit to keep them protected. Come to think of it, he might give that task solely to FRIDAY – it might serve as a suitable distraction from her ongoing grudge match with the other Avengers.
Reuniting with an older version of FRIDAY had been simultaneously joyful, sad, confusing, and a little hilarious. FRIDAY had come back online fairly quickly, booting up with her trademark sass. His bright girl had noticed the date and immediately understood that she was being restored from a backup; however, said backup had no idea what had transpired with the Avengers over the past six months (or, the Rogues, as she insisted on sniffily addressing them).
So when she was restored from a backup and came back online to see Jay sitting between the two very Rogues who had essentially killed her creator two years prior, she understandably leapt to the wrong conclusion, bringing every weapon in the lab online and aiming it directly at the super soldiers. James had tensed but mostly remained calm, but Steve had dived under one of the workshop tables, shouting about how they came in peace. At the time, it had been alarming, with Jay shouting to FRIDAY that everything was okay and FRIDAY refusing to stand down until JARVIS spoke to her and she realized things had significantly changed in the past six months.
But now? Now it was a little hilarious to picture Captain America cowering under a table and yelling at the ceiling. Jay had spent the next couple of days periodically sending Steve ‘old man yells at cloud’ memes and hacking everyone’s phones so that Steve’s contact picture was of his face replacing Abe Simpson’s in the newspaper clipping screencap.
Steve had been embarrassed and exasperated, but James had grinned every time the image had popped up, so Jay counted that overall as a win.
But now it had been a week, and FRIDAY still had yet to warm up to the other Avengers. JARVIS was trying to help, but Jay knew his baby boy also had some issues with their resident houseguests, though JARVIS did seem to have a soft spot for Clint – although Jay was fairly certain that was mostly because JARVIS appreciated the Barton family for semi-adopting Jay. So perhaps distracting them with this new task would help in the interim as they became more comfortable with the Avengers – because, as much as Jay believed the Accords council was good and necessary oversight for superpowered individuals, they were still human and prone to the same evils as the rest of humanity. They already had enormous power by being able to regulate and monitor enhanced people; Jay had no intention of also adding access to and control of AIs to their repertoire.
But regardless, for the moment, he was mostly glad the interrogation was almost over.
“Unless there’s anything else you’d like to share, Dr. Stark?” the councilmember prompted, and Jay hesitated.
“Actually, there is one more thing,” he said, and the Avengers glanced at him in surprise, though Natasha had a knowing look in her eye. “Before he was taken away, Ross said something else that I couldn’t make much sense of. It didn’t seem to have as much to do with the Avengers or the Accords, but more like it involved me personally, so I’m not sure if it’s relevant to your investigation.”
“Go ahead, son,” one of the councilmembers said, waving a hand.
“He said that the Avengers aren’t the only ‘backstabbing friends’ of my dad’s that are back, and that I’d ‘get mine,’” Jay said, and the council muttered to one another, looking as puzzled as he felt. Beside him, the Avengers were exchanging concerned glances, and Jay guessed they’d probably forgotten about that strange threat in the wake of all that had happened when they’d returned home.
“And you have no idea who he might be referring to?” a councilmember asked. Jay shrugged helplessly.
“Honestly? The problem isn’t that no one fits that description – the problem is that too many people fit that description. Most of you probably know from being involved in politics or other governmental agencies with specific agendas that the worlds of business and politics lend themselves to relationships that are more…friendships of convenience that can be broken off without a thought. So my dad had a lot of people he’d have called allies that ended up stabbing him in the back at some point or another, and quite a few people who acted like a friend for access to his money or tech.”
Beside him, Jay could see Steve’s face twist into a troubled frown at his words.
“And none of those stood out to you?” a councilmember pressed, and Jay hesitated.
“The one most of note was Obadiah Stane,” he responded carefully. A few of the councilmembers reacted to the name, but the others looked as though the name didn’t mean anything to them. “He was Dad’s business partner, and Howard Stark’s business partner before that. After Howard died, Stane was practically a father to my dad – or that’s what he told me anyway. Stane was the one who arranged my dad’s kidnapping in Afghanistan that led to him becoming Iron Man. He tried to steal the Iron Man tech, and my dad ended up killing him when they fought.”
“But he’s dead,” a councilmember stated, the comment nearly a question, and Jay nodded.
“Yes.”
“And there are no others that stand out?”
“None that he considered to be a friend who then turned on him. Well, I suppose there was Dr. Maya Hansen, but she wasn’t someone he trusted, and she’s also dead.”
The councilmembers appeared thoughtful. “Thank you for sharing this, Dr. Stark. We will include this in our list of questions for General Ross,” one of them said finally. “Now, if there’s nothing else – “
“What’s going to happen to Ross now?” Steve interrupted, and the council’s eyes turned to him.
“He will be questioned and charges will be filed. He will go through the criminal justice system just like everybody else, Captain Rogers,” a councilwoman responded.
“And you’re sure your cells are enough to keep him locked up in the meantime?” Steve pressed, and Jay could see James’s eyes harden as he stared down the council, looking for any hint of uncertainty.
“We are confident in our facilities, Captain,” the councilwoman replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. “General Ross will be quite well locked-away. Now if there’s nothing further?”
Blessedly, there wasn’t, and the Avengers were able to file out of the room eagerly.
“Sir, Agent Romanov is requesting entry to the lab,” JARVIS informed him. “She says she wants to speak with you to make sure you’re alright.
“Do you want me to zap her, Boss?” FRIDAY chimed in excitedly, and Jay snorted.
“Calm down, murder baby, she’s not here to hurt me,” he said amusedly, putting down his wrench and wiping his hands on his oil-stained jeans. “You can let her in, J.”
Natasha sashayed into the workshop easily, eyes flitting over the room with practiced neutrality, though Jay would insist that he saw a flare of interest there. “Jay,” she greeted him, giving him a warm smile when she turned her gaze on him.
“Hey, Itsy Bitsy. What brings you to my humble abode?” he asked, gesturing to the couch to invite her to sit. She accepted, gliding into the seat and crossing her legs gracefully, and he took the stool across from her.
“Just wanted to check on you, make sure my new adopted nephew is doing alright,” she responded casually, leaning back, and Jay cocked his head.
“New adopted nephew?”
She smirked at him. “Laura told me she decided you’re one of hers now, and I’ve been ‘Aunt Natasha’ to the Barton kids for years. So that makes me your honorary aunt.”
Jay rolled his eyes but grinned. “I feel like you’d be the cool wine aunt,” he commented, and Natasha smiled back.
“Damn straight – or not-so-straight, in your case, if I had to guess,” she responded, leaning forward the slightest bit. Jay raised an eyebrow.
“That was surprisingly unsubtle for the great Black Widow,” he remarked. Natasha shrugged.
“Wasn’t trying to be all that subtle,” she countered. “As the cool wine aunt, I get to make observations about my nieces and nephews that make them vaguely uncomfortable until they spill the beans.”
“Did you really just say spill the beans?”
“So how are Steve and James doing?”
Jay sputtered for a moment, caught off guard, and his expression revealed far more than he meant for it to. Natasha smirked triumphantly, leaning back. “I knew it,” she said. “Your dad liked Steve a lot, too.”
“Yeah, don’t I know it,” Jay muttered bitterly to himself, cheeks warm and too distracted to notice the Black Widow’s eyes sharpen before she assumed a deliberately nonchalant pose, reclining easily into the couch.
“They were pretty good friends – they had to work together pretty closely, so they spent a lot of time around each other, got to know each other pretty well,” Natasha continued, and Jay nodded absently, half-listening to Natasha and half-thinking about James and Steve and wondering what they were doing. He should really thank them for helping him work through his feelings about FRIDAY. “It must’ve been hard to grow up with a dad who’d spent so much time around Captain America during the war, who actually knew the Howling Commandos.”
“Yeah, it was a hell of an impossible standard,” Jay murmured distractedly, missing the victorious gleam in the Widow’s eye.
“I bet it was…Tony.”
It took a moment for that to register, but when it did, Jay froze, blood draining from his face as he turned to meet Natasha’s eyes. She was eyeing him shrewdly, expression fairly blank, revealing nothing.
“What? I’m not – “ Jay croaked out, and she raised her eyebrows at him as if in challenge.
“You’re not exactly the best at hiding it, Tony. Sure, we could dismiss your similar coffee and workplace habits and your nicknaming tendencies as a father-son thing, but the rest of it?”
And now Jay’s heart was beginning to race, chest tightening and breath coming a bit quicker.
“Rest of what?” he asked, voice tense and knowing he missed ‘casual’ by too much for his question to seem confused or really anything less than suspicious.
“You answered questions about what Tony would think or want with too much confidence for it to be a guess. You didn’t need me to explain the nickname I gave you. You knew I would know Latin. You referred to Obadiah Stane as ‘Obie.’ Those might could’ve been dismissed as coincidences – although that would be a lot of coincidences – but I saw the way you reacted when JARVIS came online in the training room. That wasn’t the reaction of someone who’d just resurrected a remnant of their father – that was the reaction of someone who’d just resurrected a very dear friend, a friend they’d known for a very long time. If you’d really met Tony when you were 18, there’s no way you’d have formed that kind of bond with JARVIS. The only person who would have that kind of bond with him is Tony.”
Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god ohgodoh god. He’d failed, he’d failed, oh godohgodohgod.
The world narrowed and expanded, all noise fading out save the high-pitched ringing in his ears, his eyes unseeing as his heart thundered in his chest, beating an irregular rhythm that complemented his staccato breaths as he tried to suck in enough air. The world felt like it was going white, his brain blanking aside from periodic tidal waves that carried an ocean of unwelcome thoughts. He’d failed – he’d failed, oh god, he’d failed, he couldn’t – people would get hurt – he hadn’t been enough, oh godohgodoh.
“JARVIS? FRIDAY? What’s happening?” He heard Natasha’s frantic voice as though from a long distance away, buried at sea in his mind, though he was present enough to realize he’d somehow ended up on the floor, curled up with his back against a wall.
“Sir is experiencing a panic attack, Agent Romanov,” JARVIS responded, his voice somehow calm and yet tinged with worry.
“What can I do?” Natasha asked immediately.
“Not upset him in the first place,” FRIDAY said snippily.
“Miss FRIDAY, that is not helpful,” JARVIS chided. “It helps Sir when someone talks to him.”
Without another word, Natasha dropped down beside Jay, lowering her face so it was in front of his, his unseeing eyes staring into hers. “Hey, zvyozdochka, it’s okay, everything’s okay, you’re safe here.” She paused, turning to look up at the ceiling. “Can I touch him?”
“Keep your hands to yourself, missy,” FRIDAY snapped.
“Yes, Agent Romanov,” JARVIS responded, talking over the other AI. “Touch doesn’t hurt, and it does sometimes help ground him.”
Natasha nodded, sliding so that she was seated next to Jay and tugging him so that his head rested in her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Did I ever tell you about the time Clint nearly got kicked out of SHIELD for breaking a guy’s nose for me?” she asked, her voice calm and even as she stroked. “It was right after I’d gotten back from an op where I was supposed to keep an eye on some Latvian diplomat. We’d been tipped off that there was going to be an attempt on his life, and SHIELD sent me to go undercover at the gala he was attending. Well, in order to get close enough but keep my cover, I ended up dancing with this woman who was absolutely stunning and an amazing dancer. When the diplomat left the dance floor, the woman and I both made our excuses, and I went to follow him – only to spot her doing the exact same thing. Come to find out she was the one I was supposed to be protecting him from.
“So I did what any good agent would do in my situation – I seduced her in the room next door to my target. When I made it back to SHIELD the next day, one of the agents started harassing me about my “crude lesbian behavior.” He had the misfortune of being within earshot of Clint, and Clint punched him right in the face for it. Coulson was pissed, but he was more pissed at the other agent for his remarks, so Clint got off with a warning.”
There was a momentary silence, Natasha smiling faintly at the memory and Tony’s ragged breaths echoing between them.
“The other agent was lucky Clint’s the one who punched him. You probably woulda taken all his internal organs or something.” At the sound of Tony’s shaky voice, Natasha’s eyes darted down, noting with relief that his breathing was evening, and he was looking more aware, glancing up at her. Her heart twisted. God, he looked so young, his face still too-pale under that mess of dark hair, and she was seized with a fierce need to protect him, though she knew he’d loudly shout her down if she ever vocalized that desire.
“Nah, I save that threat for the important people,” she returned with a small smile, recalling his words inside a donut shop all those years ago. He chuckled, though he still looked strained, and she resumed running her fingers through his hair comfortingly. He appeared not to notice, but she noted that his shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly at the touch. “I’m sorry I scared you, zvyozdochka,” she said softly. “I would never do anything to hurt you, regardless of what name you go by.”
He was quiet, and Natasha let the silence sit now that Tony had come out of his panicked haze, stroking his hair wordlessly. Eventually he shifted, pushing himself into a sitting position, and she let her hands drop into her lap, watching him and waiting. He watched her in return, those too-intelligent eyes piercing, and she felt like she could see the gears turning in his head as he reconciled himself with the knowledge that Natasha knew now. She could see the fear there, the worry and concern that had prompted the panic attack in the first place, though she wasn’t sure what the exact cause of that fear was; she suspected it had something to do with his lack of trust in her, which stung a little but wasn’t unexpected in the slightest.
“So,” he said finally.
“So,” she repeated back to him, a faint smile quirking at her lips. He looked at her, eyes measuring.
“So what now?” he asked, and his face was blank enough that Natasha could only just barely spot the concern under the mask. That level of skill in making one’s face unreadable – well, that was only further proof that Jay couldn’t possibly be who he said he was, not that Natasha needed any further evidence. That was an expressionlessness that was born of decades in front of the media, and, while Natasha hated seeing it aimed at her, she couldn’t deny the flare of pure, unadulterated happiness that she was right, she was right, that their Tony wasn’t gone, that he’d been right here with them the whole time.
“Now,” she said evenly, her voice carefully neutral, “now, hopefully, you tell me the truth.”
“And after?” he asked, his eyes guarded and challenging, and Natasha was hit with a wave of understanding.
“That’s up to you,” she said simply, and he looked at her a hint disbelievingly.
“Really.” He was dubious.
“Really,” Natasha said, meeting his eyes steadily.
And whatever he saw there seemed to convince him, because, in the next moment, he was talking. He told her about Siberia as it had happened from his perspective. He told her about waking up after the fact, of finding out what had been done to him. He told her about figuring out what all that entailed and coming to terms with it, about the struggle it had been to feel more machine than human. He told her about agonizing over what to do, what steps he could take to hurt the smallest number of people, how he could present the situation in a way that didn’t result in repercussions for other enhanced individuals. He told her about the nightmares he’d had in the months after featuring what Steve had done to him, or the team’s hate-twisted smirks as they betrayed him, or what could happen to millions of innocents if he didn’t play his cards right. He told her about the time alone and out of the public eye, of the loneliness that interrupted the peace. And he told her about how it had felt to be alone still after the whole team had come back, isolated by the knowledge that he was lying to them but terrified of ruining lives if he blew his secret.
And while he talked, she listened quietly, silent, though each and every word was giving her a surreal feeling. Tony was alive. Tony was alive. She’d suspected the truth for a while, now, but to hear him admit it? To hear him confirm that he was okay? That he hadn’t been killed by Wanda’s trick – by their mistakes?
Bozhe moi, it was everything.
Although hearing him describe what had happened for him to not die and all the recovery after – that part was draining some of the delight away, replacing it with a renewed sadness at all that someone she considered one of her closest confidants had been put through.
They hadn’t seen Jay without his masks, Natasha came to realize while he spoke; even when he’d seemed open and vulnerable, he’d still held back from them, and they’d never realized. Because if he’d dropped his masks around him, they would have known he couldn’t be who he said he was in an instant - because the man in front of her right now looked old, far older than any 21-year-old boy could look, even one who’d lost his father and come into an unexpected legacy. His eyes were too haunted, more so even than they’d been in her memories of Tony the last time they’d met, and his shoulders bent under the weight of far too many years for someone who appeared so young.
This was Tony, her Tony, and pleasure wove in with heartbreak as what that meant truly sank in for her.
“I’m sorry, zvyozdochka,” she said softly when Tony had fallen silent, staring at his hands. He looked at her, face puzzled, strangely innocent in his apparent youth.
“For what?”
“For what you’ve been through. For letting Wanda too close. For hurting you.”
He smiled at her, a tiny one that tugged at a heart most people would swear didn’t exist. “You’ve already apologized for that,” Tony said knowingly, and Natasha couldn’t contain her surprise, thinking back to their talk in the kitchen. “You knew that night, when you asked me if I thought my dad would forgive you, didn’t you?”
Her lips curled up into a smile, privately delighted. Tony had seen her, and it felt good to be noticed. “I suspected,” she corrected. “I didn’t really know until JARVIS.”
Tony blew out a breath, the last of his tension seeming to drain out of his shoulders and humor entering his eyes. “Should’ve known that JARVIS would be the one to blow it for me. He always gets me into trouble.”
“Yes, I’m the reason you have such trouble keeping a low profile,” JARVIS responded snootily, and Natasha smirked as Tony snorted.
“I should’ve told FRI and Viz they could leave out your sarcasm coding,” he said with a brilliant grin, eyes twinkling up towards the ceiling.
“Not sure there’s any such thing, Boss,” FRIDAY piped up.
“Of course there is! Where else would all that sass come from?” Tony demanded.
“It’s a real mystery,” Natasha drawled, and Tony shot her a betrayed look.
“Why,” he lamented mournfully, “do I let anyone down here when all you all do is gang up on me?” Natasha simply gave him an amused look, and Tony pouted, punching her lightly on the arm. “Meanie.”
Natasha smirked and punched him back.
“Ow!” he cried, theatrically rubbing his arm. “DUM-E, U, Butterfingers? Are you all really going to let Itsy Bitsy beat up your old man like this? Come on, boys, defend your dad’s honor!” Tony called, and the bots let out beeping noises that, to Natasha’s ears, sounded more scolding than concerned. Realizing his bots were leaving him to Natasha’s tender mercies, Tony stuck his tongue out at them. He’d opened his mouth, probably to threaten to donate them as he had countless times in Natasha’s memories, when JARVIS interrupted.
“Sir, I hate to interrupt what would undoubtedly be a fear-inducing threat, but there has been some odd activity on an old server.”
Tony frowned, tilting his head. “Okaaay,” he drew out. “What about it, J? I’m assuming it’s something important, because you know I don’t care if one of the interns is pulling up old project notes or something.”
“It’s from SHIELD data files, Sir.”
At that, both Tony and Natasha snapped to attention, Tony stalking over to his screens. “What files were they trying to access, JARVIS? And did they get in?”
“How do you have SHIELD’s old files?” Natasha demanded, and Tony’s eyes flicked to her before returning to the screens where JARVIS was pulling up the information.
“When SHIELD fell and all those files were released online, JARVIS and I did our best to find any sensitive data that could get innocents killed – either by release of ongoing undercover operatives’ names and missions, or release of information that could be used to undermine other government agencies, or details on projects that got scrapped because they’d bring too much harm that could be brought to fruition by the wrong hands – and we hid it on our servers,” he explained, distracted as his eyes ran over the data JARVIS was showing him.
“Did you look through all of it?” Tony shook his head.
“No, we got started – and then Ultron happened, and everything kind of spiraled from there. I haven’t been back to it. Only reason I haven’t deleted all of it is in case there’s something in there that someone might need someday, or that could help us in a mission.”
“They appear to have been attempting to access SHIELD’s notes on your Iron Legion. It is unclear whether or not they managed to accomplish their goal,” JARVIS said. Tony frowned at the mention of the Iron Legion, and that frown deepened at the answer to his second question.
“Unclear? What does that mean?”
“Whatever medium was being used to attempt access the files…it has a very unusual data signature. I am uncertain how exactly it is working or how to track it.”
And now Tony was looking worried, which Natasha knew from experience was not a good sign.
“What is it, Tony? What’s wrong?”
“If it’s something JARVIS doesn’t know or recognize…that’s trouble, Nat,” Tony murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen, and the Black Widow had a rare feeling that she’d last experienced in Budapest – something was about to go very, very wrong.
Jay spent the next couple of days busy - too busy, thankfully, to spend all that much time obsessing over the fact that Natasha knows. He used Extremis to coordinate with JARVIS and FRIDAY, trying to trace the strange presence that had been attempting to access their files. He’d been able to see what they meant about the data signature being off; it was like nothing he’d ever seen before. It certainly wasn’t someone using a computer trying to access the files – in fact, the presence resembled JARVIS or FRIDAY’s signatures more than that. Or his signature, even.
It was bizarre. But after two days, FRI and J were insisting that he leave his workshop for at least a couple of hours, and Jay was beginning to feel like he’d made a Very Big Mistake putting both of them online at the same time; he was definitely outnumbered by the mother hens now.
So, grumbling the entire way, he headed upstairs, stumbling into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, knowing it would piss his AIs off – they kept insisting he wasn’t getting enough sleep, but what did they know?
“Jay! You came up for air,” Natasha greeted him with a smile as he entered, seated at the table and sipping from a mug. Steve and James jolted, eyes flying to him at her words, and Jay was startled by the broad grin he got from Steve and the pleased expression from James. “Any luck?” Natasha prompted him, and he blinked, tearing his gaze away to meet her knowing eyes. He could feel himself flush, and he ducked his head and headed for the coffeemaker.
“None yet,” he responded, a sulky note entering his voice. “And JARVIS and FRI banished me from the labs until I ‘behaved like a proper human for a while,’ as they so lovingly put it.”
“Your wellbeing is our utmost priority, Sir,” JARVIS chimed in helpfully, and, without looking, Jay flipped off one of the cameras.
“My wellbeing would be a lot weller if I could find whoever tried to hack our files,” he grumbled.
“I’m not sure ‘weller’ is a word,” Steve said, his voice amused, and Jay shot him a dirty look over his shoulder.
“So you don’t have any idea who could’ve done it?” James asked, and Jay shook his head, pushing a few buttons on the machine and sighing with relief when it started brewing. He turned around to face them, leaning against the counter. Natasha had filled the rest of the team in after she’d left his workshop – or, she’d told him she would, so he assumed that’s what had happened.
“None yet,” he responded. “All we know is that whoever or whatever it is isn’t normal.”
“That’s comforting,” Natasha said drily, and he gave her a shit-eating grin.
“You know me, darlin’, I aim to please,” he drawled.
“Well, you aren’t Hawkeye, so I guess it’s not too surprising that you miss often enough,” she shot back, and he grinned delightedly. Yeah, it was weird that she knew – but it was also strangely freeing? It had been weirder pretending like they didn’t have a history, like she didn’t know him better than most of the world. Being able to revert to the same ease and camaraderie they’d used to have? Well, it was honestly really nice. He didn’t get to have that sort of familiarity when Pepper and Rhodey weren’t around, and they’d been extremely busy lately, not that he begrudged them that in the slightest. So being able to fall back into the rapport that they’d cultivated over the years was comforting.
It was also noticeable, if the look James and Steve exchanged was anything to go by.
“Anyway, JARVIS and FRI are going to keep working on it while I behave myself – “ he politely ignored Natasha’s indelicate snort. “ – and hopefully we’ll have some better news soon.”
“Sirs, Ma’am, the Avengers’ presence is being requested in midtown,” JARVIS broke in, and the four were immediately on alert.
“What’s the situation, JARVIS?” Steve asked, his Captain America voice coming to the forefront.
JARVIS flipped on the TV in the kitchen (yes, Jay had one of those, you never knew where you might need to watch the news! Case in point, thank you!), and the channel it pulled up was currently broadcasting footage of what looked to be a fleet of robots attacking civilians.
“Hey, I know those drones,” Jay said suddenly, eyes narrowing. “Those are Hammer drones. What the hell are they doing attacking people?”
“It appears that Justin Hammer has been contacted and he is unaware of any reason his tech would be in that area, let alone engaging citizens,” JARVIS responded. “He has attempted to shut them down with a kill switch, but they did not go down.”
“Right. Avengers, assemble,” Steve said determinedly, and Jay signaled his AIs to relay the message to the rest of the team.
They were on the jet with the exception of Jay and Sam within the next few minutes, and Jay summoned his suit, him and Sam taking to the sky with the quinjet hot on their heels. Jay didn’t even have a moment to feel jittery over his first mission as the new Iron Man – the first time he’d worn the armor into battle since Siberia. The destruction they witnessed when they reached midtown was distressing – but thankfully, it didn’t look as though anyone had been killed. Yet.
“Alright, team, Falcon and Iron Man, keep to the skies and take out their fliers as best you can. Iron Man, give Clint a lift to a rooftop. The rest of us will split up on the ground, form a perimeter as best we can to keep them from spreading out any further,” Steve ordered. “Once we have – “
But whatever he was going to say next, Jay missed; he and Sam had reached the first group of drones, and, when the drones noticed their approach, they turned as one and shot towards the two heroes.
“Shit!” he heard Sam yelp, and Jay lost sight of the other man, diving evasively, spiraling and shooting at the drones as he went.
“What the fuck?” he heard Clint mutter over the coms.
“Follow Iron Man!” Steve yelled, presumably at whoever was piloting the quinjet, and Jay was confused until he pulled out of his dive – and realized every single drone was following him.
“I’d like to second Clint,” he yelped, blasting the two that were closest before darting away.
“Falcon, can you get any of them off Iron Man’s tail?” Steve asked frantically.
“On it!”
Jay kept shooting forward, mind whirring over possibilities as he dodged the drones’ shots. And then he cursed his own stupidity – the drones were tech, and he was a fucking technopath. Jesus, if there was any battle where his skills would come in handy, it was this one – and he hadn’t even thought of it till now. He’d like to blame this on the whole 40-something years without powers.
Focusing, he connected to Extremis – which wasn’t hard, since he was already partially integrated since he’d called up the suit. He closed his eyes, trusting his connection to the HUD screen to keep himself from crashing into anything, then sought out the drones. They flared like tiny little pinpricks of light in his network, and he could see the tangled web that connected them together, pulsing oddly. Concentrating on their glows, he pulled, tugging at the lights until they blinked out one by one.
“Whoa, what the hell is happening?” Sam called, but Jay didn’t let himself get distracted, finding and tugging at each light until there was only one left.
He came to a stop, hovering in midair as he turned to face the last drone. The metal face looked at him dispassionately, and Jay focused in on it, mentally taking note when Sam and the quinjet came to hover off to the side. But the remainder of his concentration stayed with the drone as he engaged with its network, slipping down the webs that had tangled it up with the others and searching for the link to the one who’d controlled them all.
“Are his eyes usually that blue?” he heard Scott whisper.
“Dude, his eyes are usually brown,” Clint whispered back.
“They’re glowing.”
“Is he alright?”
“What’s he doing?”
“Trying to concentrate here,” Jay said through gritted teeth, and they fell silent. He slid through the drone’s networks, searching, searching, searching. And then the network flared bright – but it wasn’t anything Jay had done, he knew that much. No, whoever was controlling this drone was accessing it, and he tensed, ready for a fight.
“I am coming for you,” the drone said in an emotionless monotone, and Jay jerked, yanking out of the network so quickly his head spun to stare at the drone hovering dispassionately in midair.
“What?” he blurted, eyes wide.
“I am coming for you,” the drone repeated, and then the glow faded from its eyes and it dropped, falling thousands of feet until it crashed against the ground, breaking into pieces. Jay stared after it, shocked.
“Well, that’s not ominous,” Clint muttered.