Chapter 32
New York, United States
April 2011
When the team stepped out of the elevator in Stark Tower, Tony stared with wide eyes.
It had escaped the worst of the devastation, but there was still a lot of damage, including a body-shaped dent in the center of the penthouse.
Bruce squinted at it. “I think I made that.”
“Looks a little small for the other guy,” Tony said flippantly, hiding the worry twisting in his gut.
Bruce shot him a look. “With Loki.”
“Like an Asgardian rag doll! That must’ve been fun,” Tony said, thinking briefly of Coulson.
“Where’s the safe room?” Clint interrupted.
Tony rubbed his fingers over the arc reactor. “This way.”
He led Barton and Bruce across the penthouse to the back stairs. They led up to Tony’s private floor or down to the first of the R&D levels. JARVIS opened the doors for them, and they stepped into the stairwell.
Romanoff flipped upright when she saw them from a perch on the stairs.
“Sheathe your claws, it’s just us,” Tony said. “Are they inside?”
Romanoff nodded. She pressed down on the left side of the fourth stair down from the landing, and the staircase collapsed inward until a door just barely tall enough for her was visible.
Barton whistled.
Tony ducked into the safe room beyond.
It was small by Stark standards, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and an entertainment room that showed clearly the signs of both Tony and Pepper’s decorating hands. The furniture was sleek and modern, perfectly efficient, but one of the two desks was a disaster and the other was neat as a pin.
“Do you use this as an office?” Barton asked, poking through the papers on Tony’s desk.
“Not really,” he said absently, checking the first bedroom. It was the one with bunk beds, and it was empty. “Just… we like to keep backups of important things in here. You know. A failsafe.”
“Ever had to use this place?” Barton asked.
Tony shook his head.
He glanced in the second bedroom, the one with the king-sized bed that he and Pepper had chosen for themselves, and flinched when he saw the on and muted television screen. Somebody was talking about him - about Tony - and the origin of Iron Man. He saw shaky video of the battle on the ship, when Pepper had Extremis, and -
gunfire and explosions rocked the air. Tony was desperate, searching, screaming, fighting. His muscles burned like the fire around him. He was a fighter but this was worse, this was Pepper, he could lose her lose her lose her-
He was hanging from the roof above the first arc reactor prototype, while Shane marched toward him in the massive, bloated, warped version of Tony’s elegant suit; he was screaming at Pepper to push the button; he knew he was about to die-
He was crawling across the floor of his lab, the old arc reactor mocking him from the place of honor Pepper had made for it, his salvation if only he could reach it; the pain in his chest was turning up like a dial every second and he was gasping, he knew cardiac arrest wasn’t far away, and the only reason there was a chance of survival was Pepper Pepper Pepper-
“Stark.”
Tony blinked and stared at Romanoff.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m… I’m fine,” he snapped. “Why’d you wait so long out there? You could’ve told me where they are.”
“Third bedroom,” she said, looking at him oddly. “And I’ve been in here for at least two minutes. You weren’t responding.”
Tony smirked at her, but it felt lackluster. “World doesn’t revolve around you, Romanoff.”
He stepped into the last bedroom.
Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster were sprawled on each of the double beds. They looked awkward, as if they hadn’t fallen asleep there - as if they’d fallen asleep somewhere else and someone had moved them.
Pepper. Only she and Tony and now Romanoff and Barton knew about this place. He realized that he was uncomfortable with all of them invading what had been designed as his and Pepper’s space, even though they had enough room for others - no one else had ever been in here. Tony had built it himself.
Romanoff strode past him with a glass of water.
“Wait!” Tony said. “Don’t get the mattress wet.”
Barton snorted.
Romanoff hauled Darcy into a sitting position and splashed water in her face.
She sputtered and blearily opened her eyes. “Whaaa… huh?”
“Darcy,” Tony said tightly.
“Who…”
“Tony Stark? Your employer? Billionaire playboy philanthropist? Iron Man?”
“Sorry, you’re not that memorable,” Darcy said, shaking water out of her eyes. Tony reared back.
“It bites!” Inwardly, he was relieved. The return of the sass meant Darcy was back to herself.
Romanoff repeated the process twice with Jane, but the scientist didn’t wake up.
“Do you remember what happened?” Bruce asked Darcy gently.
She made a face and started trying to pat her hair down; it was kinked and awkward-looking in the back. “Mostly. It’s kinda fuzzy. I know we got off the Quinjet and Pepper met us; she was asking - if you were okay, Stark - and then she told us we could come up here until we had a communication from SHIELD. I wanted food and Jane came with me up to the penthouse. Then…” She hesitated. “Then we realized Loki was in the building somewhere.”
Barton sat up straight. “How could you tell?”
“Their eyes,” Darcy said. “They turn bright blue. I saw it on the footage when that hardass lady agent was taken.”
Barton snickered. Darcy glanced his way, and her eyebrows slowly crept up her forehead. Tony stifled a laugh.
“I get it,” Darcy said, looking smug. “Well. Anyway. There was this scientist dude who wandered up into the penthouse and Pepper told him off for coming up there - here - whatever, and he was acting all weird and poking around. That was when I noticed the eyes, and he left, and Pepper said she knew a safe room where we could wait and keep trying to contact you. She led Jane and me down here and we were sitting around the table watching the news… I don’t remember much after that.”
“Much?” Tony said, grasping onto that word.
“Tea,” Darcy said. “And something about mothers.”
“Mothers?” Barton asked, but Tony understood.
“Pepper’s mom lives about five blocks away,” he said numbly. “She drugged the tea so Foster and Lewis would stay here and went after Sara.”
“He’s met Pepper’s parents?” Barton whispered to Romanoff, but Tony wasn’t listening. Steve and Maria were out there, handling the cleanup and directing rescue efforts. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone with fingers that shook just the slightest bit.
It rang, and rang, and rang.
“Tony, he’s probably busy,” Darcy said. He could feel her eyes on him: sad, but not pitying.
“He’ll answer,” Tony said. Because I need him to.
Steve picked up the phone. “Tony, now is not the best-”
“Pepper’s gone,” Tony said brusquely, and gave Steve the address. “Has anyone looked in that area yet?”
There was a pause and muffled shouting in the background. Tony kept his face calm but his grip on his StarkPhone was white-knuckled.
“There are some National Guard patrols down that way, but none have gone up in the buildings yet, and that address is on the tenth floor. Tony-”
“Keep rescuing, Cap,” Tony said tersely, and hung up. He glanced at the rest of the team in the safe room. “Tower’s yours. Food, water, beds, condoms, whatever. I’m going after Pepper.”
He took two steps toward the exit to the safe room. A click sounded from behind, and Tony froze.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Romanoff said, voice like steel. “Judging by your movements, you’ve a broken rib that could puncture a lung unless you get immediate medical attention. I believe there is a medbay one floor down, I seem to remember that our friend Bruce here is a doctor.”
Tony turned around and stared at her. “Are you seriously holding me at gunpoint?”
“Can you do anything?” Romanoff asked Bruce.
The other scientist hesitated. “I… if it’s already punctured an organ, he’s going to need surgery, and that’s not something I can do. But I can do an X-ray and make sure it’s not immediately life-threatening.”
“Good,” Romanoff said. “Come on.”
“Hey! Hello! Uh, I don’t know if you’ve noticed me standing here, but I feel I should inform you that I don’t take orders well,” Tony snapped. “I am going after Pepper, and you should really get out of my way.”
“How will it help Pepper if you kill yourself searching for her?” Romanoff demanded.
Tony paused.
Romanoff glared.
“Fine,” Tony said, voice cracking. “But the second they declare me stable, I am gone, and I will fly through you if you get in my way.”
Romanoff didn’t bother to answer, just followed him intently out of the safe room and down to the medbay.
Tony was bare-chested on an exam table, poking disinterestedly at the tight wrapping Bruce had tied around his ribs. Bruce kept wrapping it and glanced at Tony. “You’re not to put on so much as a gauntlet for a month.”
“No,” Tony said instantly.
“Yes, or this won’t heal right and your recovery will be longer,” Bruce said, showing an uncharacteristic sternness. Or maybe it was characteristic. Tony hadn’t seen firsthand the man’s face before he Hulked out, but he’d heard from Steve that it was somewhat… unusual.
Tony quirked an eyebrow. “What if I don’t care?”
“You’ll care when you refracture your two ribs from lifting something heavy or taking the recoil from a gauntlet shot and puncture a lung and then die,” Barton pointed out. He was messing around with his bow, duct tape, and three scalpels. Tony was vaguely curious about what exactly he was trying to do, but he also was having a difficult time caring about anything other than-
The phone rang.
Tony scrambled for it, making Bruce yelp and fumble for the end of the bandage. Tony ignored his fussing and picked up. “Steve?”
“They found her,” Steve said. “It’s not good.”
Tony’s heart stopped.
Steve kept talking, something about critical condition and being rushed to a hospital, but Tony’s ears were ringing and he couldn’t hear.
“Bruce,” he said, and stood up. “I need a car.”