Chapter 17
Peter had never ran so fast in his entire life. He’d never felt his lungs aching so hard from the exertion, his desperation growing by the minute.
He’d received a message from FRIDAY on his Starkphone not five minutes ago, alerting him of an emergency. Peter’s heart had stopped for a moment, his eyes reading and re-reading the message several times trying to make sense of it. ‘CODE RED: BACK UP NEEDED’ it had read in bold red letters.
He’d bolted out of the cafeteria, his friend’s worried calls following him through the back doors of the building, none of them had missed the pale and shocked look on his face.
He’d quickly changed into his costume, franticly trying to get in contact with FRIDAY. He knew the message was a call for help from Mr. Stark, and the realization frightened him, what could have happened that prompted Mr. Stark to ask for help? He tried to keep his fears in check, but something about that message spooked him. The fact that none of his calls got through to FRIDAY only made things worse.
He decided to contact his next best option, convinced that at least Happy would know what was going on.
“Happy! I’m so glad you picked up! I got a message from FRIDAY! But I can’t contact Mr. Stark! Where is he? Where’s the emergency? Do you know what can I do to he-”
“Kid, calm down!” Peter noted Happy’s voice sounded suspiciously gruff, like the man was making a great effort to contain some emotion from drowning his voice. Peter’s heart sank; he knew right away whatever it was, it was bad.
“Happy, what’s going on? Where is Mr. Stark? Did something happen to him? I can help! What can I do? I can get there in no time, just tell me where he is, I can hurry up and-”
A deep weary sigh was all the response he got, he made a great effort to keep his mouth shut, gripping the phone like it was a lifeline, listening intently to the hitched breathing on the other side of the line.
“Don’t fret kid, Mr. Stark… he’s… we found him, he was-he was missing but we’ve found him”
Peter knew he ought to feel relieved by Happy’s words, but deep down he knew there was something very wrong, his anxiety skyrocketed, making him babble non-stop. “Happywhereishe?Whereareyou?Maybethere’ssomethingIcando!There’sgottabesomethingIcandotohelp!”
“Peter, please calm down, we’re taking care of him, ok? We’re looking after him”
But Peter was determined to see Mr. Stark, and he told Happy so, threatening to look all over the city if he had to.
“Fine, come to the compound, I’ll explain everything when you get here” the man said defeatedly, his voice sounding incredibly tired.
Peter was surprised his threats had worked, but he wasn’t about to question his luck. He rushed to the compound, hoping against hope that Mr. Stark was safe.
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Peter reached the compound in record time, not even waiting for the main entrance gate to fully open, making a clean jump over the two-meter fence.
His frantic run across the front yard was intercepted by Happy, who feared for a moment the teenager wasn’t going to stop. Even though the teen had his mask on, Happy could almost see the anxious face beneath it. Peter doubled over for a moment, trying to catch his breath.
“Happy, what happened? Is Mr. Stark ok? Where is he? Is there anything I can do – “
“Calm down kid, take a deep breath. That’s it, nice and slow. Ok, keep breathing…” Happy tried to calm the frantic kid, it would help no one to have a hyperventilating superpowered kid running around the compound causing mayhem.
Taking his mask off with one hand, Peter took a large gulp of air, his matted hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.
“Happy-” Peter’s pleading voice broke Happy’s barely contained composure. He tried to clear his throat, loath to fall apart in front of the kid.
“He’s in surgery kid, he’s- he’s in very bad shape”
Happy had to grab Peter by the scruff of the neck, as the boy had already taken off at full speed towards the compound.
“Arghh, wha-”
“Peter, there’s something I need to tell you…” Happy pleaded, holding the kid with everything he had. This was the second hardest conversation he’d had today. He knew for a fact he was the last person who should be having this talk with the kid, but there was no one else. How was he going to tell Peter, a kid that had already lost his family twice, that the person he idolized and looked up to as a father figure was on the brink of death? Happy felt it was all very unfair for everyone, including himself.
A couple of minutes later saw the two of them walking up to the compound, a coy and red rimmed eyed Peter walking under Happy’s guiding hand on his nape. He was the image of a lost and scared kid even though he was trying his best to hide it. Happy led him to an improvised waiting room, where Pepper greeted him with a watery smile.
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Everything was a mess.
Happy had done his best to be useful, but there was nothing he, or any of them, could really do to help. The burden of keeping Tony alive rested on the surgeons’ hands, but all of Happy’s hopes were put solely on Stephen Strange.
Despite spending the last couple of years voicing his contempt against his bosses’ decision to run among superpowered clowns, he had never been happier his boss had chosen to surround himself with these superheroes that clearly cared for him. For one, Happy was glad that Strange was IN FACT a doctor, and not some other asshole using a fake alias, just like a certain someone that loved to be called ´captain´. He knew he was being petty, but in that moment all Happy knew was that one of his best friends had gone looking for Captain America and had almost not made it back alive.
It had seemed like hours before Strange had come around to the waiting room, where Pepper, Peter and Happy had congregated. He had explained how Tony had suffered extensive damage to a large portion of his organs, including a shattered rib cage, heart and liver failure and a high risk of an embolism due to several blood clots that had formed in his system, on top of a cranioencephalic trauma from a hard blow to the head. The doctors had decided to put him in an induced coma, in the hopes of the swelling on his brain to diminish. Things did not look good for Tony.
From his explanation, Happy gathered that Strange had not only used standard medical procedures, but some of his mystical powers as well. He’d explained that he’d channeled his energy into Tony to heal some of his more gruesome injuries, but it hadn’t been enough.
“But why can’t you heal all his injuries?” came Happy’s gruff question. He knew he was being an ass, not even thanking the man, and demanding a miracle on top of it.
“That’s not how magic works I’m afraid” Stephen answered with a tired sigh, not taking offense to Happy’s gruff demand “In order for a body to heal, that body’s own energy must work to restore itself; in a way, magic can only enhance a body’s own ability to heal. I channeled some of my own energy to help Tony, but his wounds are too extensive, and I’m afraid not even my power can replace Tony’s own healing abilities” Stephen had seriously considered pouring all his vital force into Tony, in an attempt to bring the man back from the brink of death, but he soon realized it would not be enough, that he would most likely sacrifice his life and it would still not be enough to guarantee Tony’s survival. So he’d done the next best thing, focusing his powers to stabilize him, buying them some time to come up with a more permanent solution.
“You mean, the moment you stop channeling energy into him, his body would go back to breaking down because it’s so weak it can’t keep up with all the damage?” asked Pepper with horrified eyes, realizing what the situation entailed.
Stephen simply nodded somberly.
“Couldn’t we take turns? Giving him energy I mean? Perhaps if enough of us do it over a period of time, we could help Mr. Stark, give his body enough time to heal itself” Peter asked with a frown, tear streaks still visible down his boyish face.
Stephen felt a pang of affection for the kid, the idea wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility, but it would take an incredibly practiced sorcerer to syphon one’s own energy and channel it into another body, and even then, the risks were very high.
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works either Peter, in order for you to give energy you would have to have some training in the mystical arts, and it would take much longer than we have right now”
Pepper reached out and gave Peter a one arm hug, the kid looked like he was doing his best not to show how heart broken he was, not being able to help.
´So magic could only help Tony so much at this point´ Happy thought with a heavy heart. Talks of organ transplants and induced comas followed, but Happy had been too stunned to pay any real attention. He was desperately trying to recall those prayers his mother had taught him as a child, perhaps someone up there would be willing to lent him an ear.
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When Tony was finally taken to post operation, Stephen led Pepper into the silent room. The sight of the broken man lying motionless in bed was too much for her. Tony had tubes that helped him breath coming out of his mouth, his swollen face was an unrecognizable mess, his skin a deathly pale that clashed with the ugly red and blue bruises that bloomed all over his body. His arms and feet were bandaged, but Pepper could see that the skin beneath the bandages was deep blue, a clear sign of the frost damage his limbs had suffered.
But the most horrifying thing was Tony's chest, even with the many bandages covering it, it looked oddly caved in, with an unusual pattern across his ribcage, almost as if something had been forcibly imbedded across it.
Pepper felt sick for a moment, she could feel herself fainting at the sight of all the damage Tony had suffered, but she forcibly controlled herself, closing her eyes and her hands into tight fists.
"What happens next? Is he going to wake up?" She managed to say with a hoarse whisper, her hands aching to touch Tony, but she was afraid she’d hurt him somehow.
"We still don't know" Stephen answered with a tired voice "he's lucky to be alive"
He let out a deep sigh, his years as a doctor helping him detach from the situation, focusing on the task at hand "We have to wait for the swelling on his brain to go down, only then will we know just how extensive is the brain damage"
"Brain damage...?" she gasped, somehow the possibility had never occurred to her.
"Yes, the blood loss and the head contusion are likely to leave him with permanent sequelae”
"Jesus Christ”
Pepper was desolated, she felt her world was collapsing around her, but looking at Stephen standing beside her, she instantly knew she wasn’t the only one suffering. The grief reflected in the man’s eyes made Pepper’s heart go out to him, she’d long suspected the man had feelings for Tony. It must be horrible being in his position, doing his best but being unable to heal a loved one.
“Thank you, Stephen, for everything you’ve done for Tony” she said with a watery smile.
Stephen tried his best to keep up his poker face, but the emotion was too much. His vision was blurry with his unshed tears, his throat closed with grief, he only managed a stiff nod. As they stood watching Tony’s slow breathing, he promised himself he wouldn’t give up, he would find a way to help Tony.
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The clouds over the clear sky rippled with the force of an invisible energy, a small aircraft cruised its vast expanse undetected, blending itself seamlessly with the colors around it. King T´Challa piloted the state-of-the-art jet, his attention briefly interrupted by an incoming message.
“Okoye, what is it?”
“My king, we’ve received some startling news. Our intelligence has intercepted several American coded messages, they report the disappearance of Iron Man, he is presumed dead and it is heavily implied that he was taken down by the terrorist known as the Winter Soldier, they also seem to believe he was aided by Captain America”
A shocked breath escaped the king’s lips. T’Challa could barely believe what he was hearing. How could this have happened?! A wrenching feeling made his stomach drop.
“What do the reports say?” he finally asked.
“They indicate that Iron Man was last seen en route to Siberia my king, where he was to apprehend the fugitives Captain America and the Winter Soldier”
T’Challa felt his blood turn to ice. He’d been there capturing Zemo while the others fought. He hadn’t felt the need to intervene, opting to follow his selfish need to seek revenge. For his gross oversight a man had paid with his life.
He felt sick, betrayed, he’d received a call from the Captain not twelve hours before. T’Challa had been eager to offer his aid to the Captain, had made it clear he no longer sought revenge against the captain’s friend, had even promised to provide medical treatment to help the brainwashed Winter Soldier if the need arose, Rogers had declined the offer for the time being, thanking T’Challa for his kindness. How could Rogers have been so calm during the call?! If T’Challa had known… with a deep breath he tried to reign in his temper, he would give both men the benefit of the doubt, at least until he learnt what had happened on that bunker.
“Okoye, send a direct message to Colonel Rhodes and to Mrs. Pepper Potts, let them know they have my full support on whatever they need. If a search party is required tell them we could provide several aircrafts, all of them at their immediate disposition”
“Understood my king”
With a heavy sigh he tried to clear his head, he would not make the same mistake twice, he would not throw himself blindly into a situation before thoroughly learning both sides of the story.