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cap_ironman2009-02-13 03:41 pm
kijikun.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2009-02-13 03:41 pm
Entry tags:
All That Remains (20/21) (R)
Title: All That Remains (20/21)
Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,
Part 7, Part 8 Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13,
Part 14, Part 15,Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kijikun
Rating: R (NC-17 overall)
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Stephen Strange
Betas:pandanoai and ellyr_in_ink
Word Count:
Warnings: Spoilers through "Fallen Son", references to an institutionalized childhood
Timeline: Marvel Time is always kind of flexible, so we're setting this somewhere in the first half of 2008. Secret Invasion does not exist in this universe.
A/N: Con-crit and comments welcome as always. Also, please don't kill me.
Tony knew he was dreaming.
He was standing at the podium giving a speech that wouldn't mean anything in a few moments. He could hear himself talking about the young artists from lower income areas that the Maria Stark Foundation had supported and funded for the Gallery opening. Maria was standing next to him, her hand in his.
He knew how this was going to go but he was powerless to change anything. He wanted to wake up, to scream, anything to not relive this moment again.
The sound of the rifle echoed in Tony's ears as Maria was jerked out of his grip by the force of the bullet. He was aware of his own voice yelling Maria's name, before he cried out in pain as a bullet pierced his shoulder.
It was the memory of pain, a distant echo. It was nothing compared to the gutted feeling he experienced as he looked over at Maria. She was lying on the ground like a broken doll. The front of her dress was turning black with blood.
God, let him wake up before he got to her. He didn't want to feel her life drain out of her body again. He couldn't -- didn't want to -- but his body moved without his say-so.
Extremis was accessed without thought. Escape routes for the assassins were cut off, and images of them were already being processed and compared.
"Tony," Maria's voice was weak, scared. Her eyes were so very wide.
"It's okay, it's okay." He lied, just as he did every time. His hands were shaking and his voice was raw.
He was going to tear apart the people that did this.
Maria coughed, her body shaking. "F-failed you."
Tony shook his head. "No, no you didn't, Maria. I failed you. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry."
Her blood was leaking past his hands, resisting his attempts to stem the flow.
She mouthed his name, no voice left, before the light seemed to drain out of her eyes.
He clutched her to him, screaming in grief and rage.
Tony jolted awake as the armor alerted him he'd reached his destination.
The building in L.A. was run down, condemned… but inside laid his prey. He'd spent the last two weeks hunting this bastard.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd really eaten or truly slept. Every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by Maria's death and the dream -- the nightmare turned hellish. Instead of the gallery they were in the penthouse, and when he’d looked up, it had been Steve holding the gun that had killed their daughter.
He hadn't spoken to anyone since Reed at the funeral. Pepper had given up trying two days ago. She’d finally stopped when he'd told her that there was nothing but this mission.
Steve still tried.
He'd call Tony using every override Tony had ever given him; begging Tony to talk to him, begging him to come back to the penthouse, to let someone help him with this, to please not kill himself to avenge Maria. He always finished by telling Tony how much he loved him. Sometimes he sounded like he was crying.
Tony listened to each message with his eyes closed, but he never spoke to Steve…
His left arm had been crushed earlier in the week. He'd never received proper medical care for his right shoulder. Extremis was barely keeping him together and he wasn't sure he'd last long out of the armor now.
Most of the Secret Avengers had registered, but the media was still blaming anti-reg groups for Maria's death. Tony didn't care.
Steve knew the truth. That was enough.
Tony entered the building and he didn't care if he ever came back out.
***
"Tony. Tony!" There was a hand on his chest.
Tony jolted awake, flailing and striking out. "Maria!" His right shoulder burned with pain.
His memories still felt fuzzy; all he could really remember was a sense of loss.
Strong hands were holding him down. A solid body pressed his back onto a soft mattress. Tony struggled blindly, panic still clawing at him.
"Tony, calm down." Steve’s voice was right by his ear. "You were having a nightmare. Maria's fine."
Steve. He was in bed with Steve. Maria was fine.
The fight left him in a rush, leaving him shaking and drained -- like his heart needed a recharge.
"I -- I -- she was dead. I dreamt she was dead." Tony's voice was hoarse even to his own ears. His throat felt raw, like he'd been screaming or throwing up.
He remembered now -- Peter yelling at them to get down and bodily pushing Maria out of the way. Tony had been hit in the shoulder, but Maria had only been grazed across the cheek.
Steve nodded. "She's asleep in her bed, Tony. Let me check your shoulder. You could be bleeding again," Steve told him softly, taking his weight off of Tony's body. "You should have let them keep you in the hospital overnight."
Tony sat up as Steve flicked on a light. The green LED numbers from the clock on the nightstand read 2:30. He'd been asleep for two hours. Four hours since they'd returned to the penthouse. Six hours since the shooting.
"I wouldn't have slept any better there, and Maria would have been in a panic."
Maria had alternated between clinging to Tony and clinging to Peter. Peter, with MJ by his side (who had arrived at the hospital after Peter called her) had managed to keep Maria calm and let the doctor look at the cut on her face. Tony hadn't wanted her out of his sight, and was torn between using the hospital cameras to watch her while his shoulder was treated, and tracking down any and all information about the two assassins.
He closed his eyes as Steve unwrapped his shoulder, checking the bandages. Steve's hands were unsteady and the kiss he pressed to the back of Tony's neck was heartbreakingly tender. It had been Pepper that had remembered to get word to Steve on his and Maria's conditions.
"And I didn't want you worrying," Tony murmured. "I'm sorry you had to hear about it on the news. I didn't think --"
"You had other things on your mind, Tony." Steve assured him. Tony wished he could see Steve's face. "I - I'm just glad both of you are safe."
Steve's arms slid around Tony and he gratefully leaned back against Steve's chest. "I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have brought Peter and MJ back with me, but they were so worried about Maria --"
"They were worried about you too, Tony," Steve protested softly.
Tony opened his eyes, wondering when he'd closed them. "Maybe."
For a moment they were both quiet and all Tony could hear was the sound of Steve breathing and the sound of his heart. The cameras told him everyone was safe and asleep. Maria was tucked up in bed. Jarvis was in his apartment.
Even Sharon and Bucky were asleep on the couch in the living room -- and Tony could almost laugh that he was grateful to have them there acting as guardians. And it was probably a sign of how tired he was that he'd repeated that out loud without a moment's thought.
"If it wasn't for them -- I would have gone to the gallery.” Steve responded. “I probably would have gone to every hospital in New York until I found you and Maria. All I could think about was that you could be dead." Steve’s voice sounded strained. His arms tightened around Tony. "You both could be dead because of me."
Tony pushed himself out of the tight circle of Steve's arms. He turned to look at Steve, frowning slightly. "Steve, that video was bullshit. Some hoaxer with bad taste or someone trying to start something. I should start descrambling it now… see if I can't match the voice or face to someone in the system, not to mention tracing it back to its originator. We can't assume --"
Steve clenched his jaw. "It doesn't matter if the video and claims are bogus, Tony. People believed it. I believed it."
Tracing the line of Steve's jaw with his left hand, Tony shook his head. "Let them believe whatever the hell they want to. We both know the truth." He shifted to get closer to Steve, to trail kisses along the path his fingers had taken. Tony's shoulder protested and drew a wince from him.
"Your shoulder?" Steve asked, stilling Tony with gentle hands.
Tony contemplated denying it, but then nodded. "Yeah. I think the hydromorphone from the hospital is starting to wear off."
Steve frowned. "You haven't taken anything since you've been home? Tony, it's been several hours. You've got to be hurting."
"I hate pain meds," Tony muttered. "I can't think straight on them. I need Extremis at full capacity."
"You need to not be a walking bundle of pain," Steve snapped sharply, reaching over Tony to the pill bottle on the nightstand. He read the label before he shook out two of the pills. Steve pressed them into Tony's hand, then reached for the glass of water on his own nightstand.
Tony glared at him. "I can handle the pain. I don't need this stuff. I need to be alert in two hours."
Steve glared right back. "Do you want to be wincing every time you hug Maria?" He asked, using his 'do-not-argue-with-me-I'm-the-goddamn-Captain-America' voice. Not that Steve had ever called himself, or been referred to as, 'the goddamn Captain America.' That could be a sign that either pain, stress, or lack of sleep was indeed getting to him.
"Low blow," Tony accused, but dutifully put the pills in his mouth and swallowed them down with water.
"It worked," Steve pointed out. He leaned in and kissed Tony gently on the mouth. He cradled the back of Tony's head in a strong, broad hand. "You can pretend you can handle everything yourself in the morning -- just please -- let me take care of you right now."
Tony leaned in for another kiss, suddenly desperate for it. "What if this is the dream?" he asked suddenly, wrapping his hands around Steve's forearms.
"It's not," Steve promised into Tony's mouth. "This is real." He pushed Tony down onto the mattress and Tony's shoulder protested in a brief flash of pain.
Tony couldn't remember really feeling pain in the nightmare -- so this had to be real. "If you really want to take care of me, you'll fuck me," Tony said softly, looking up at Steve hovering above him.
He knew the answer before Steve spoke. While Steve dipped down to kiss him, teeth grazing Tony's bottom lip, the answer was clear in Steve's eyes. "No, Tony. You're hurt, tired."
"Please?" Tony begged, almost because he knew he wouldn't get what he wanted. There was something grounding about that, and so very Steve. Denying him what he said he needed for what he really needed.
Even if sleep was the last thing Tony wanted, he wasn't in a hurry to go back to his nightmares.
Steve’s lips barely brushed over Tony's, more a caress then a kiss. "No." He settled down beside Tony on the bed, wrapping his arms around Tony… after he’d pulled the blankets securely around them, of course. "I love you."
"I love you," Tony returned, focusing on the far wall in the dark. He ran through the cameras again, checked all the security doors, checked the tracing of the two assassins -- he'd found the identity of one by the unique gun he used and the other because he often worked with the first. He'd already found their bank accounts and identified large recent deposits -- he'd made sure the other Avengers, not to mention law enforcement had the details -- Tony was more worried about who'd hired them.
Steve kissed the back of his neck. "Stop thinking." He was tracing patterns on Tony's stomach.
Tony chuckled. "Don't know how." But for a moment, he stopped running over every detail, stopped listening to the Avengers communication network, let two of the news feeds drop, and concentrated on Steve's fingers.
The last thing he could clearly remember was Steve's voice, soft and low. "I won't let this happen again in my name."
Then he was asleep.
***
It was five am, and Steve was awake. He couldn't say what it was that woke him, but he'd jolted awake, pulse racing. Tony had stirred but hadn't woken. Maria had nestled further into Tony's arms, and if he'd woken her, she gave no other sign.
He didn't quite remember when she'd wound up in their bed over her own, but at least they were both asleep.
Steve ghosted his hand over the back of Tony's head. Maria stirred again, hazy but focused eyes blinking open at him. Steve stroked her cheek gently with the back of his hand.
"Shh, go back to sleep. Everything's fine," he whispered.
She stared at him silently and he was at a loss to read her expression. "That man is still out there," she whispered back, glancing up at Tony's face.
Steve frowned slightly. 'That man?'
"We'll find out who did this, Maria," he promised softly, not wanting to wake Tony. If Tony woke, he'd start working and he wouldn't rest until Steve made him, his head hurt too much to concentrate on even Extremis, or his armor was out of commission.
Maria shook her head, and she lifted one hand toward the door. "Him."
"She means Bucky," Tony muttered, eyes still closed. Tony shifted slightly, and rubbed Maria's back with his right hand. It was an awkward motion due to his shoulder. "Let Steve worry about him, genius. He isn't a threat to us. Close your eyes and sleep, it's not time to be up yet." His tone was sleepily firm.
It seemed to reassure Maria, who closed her eyes after staring at Steve for a few more seconds.
God, he'd love to know what went on inside that child's head sometimes.
Steve tucked some of Maria's hair back behind her ear and kissed the shell of Tony's ear. "I'm going to go check on them," he murmured. "And Maria needs a hair cut."
"Hmm," Tony responded.
Steve slid from the bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Barefoot, he padded out into the living room. Sharon was fast asleep on the couch, a blanket pulled around her.
He found Bucky in the kitchen, frowning into the fridge. "Doesn't Stark keep any beer around here?" he muttered at Steve when he entered the room.
"No, he doesn't. Recovering alcoholics generally don't as a rule," Steve told him pointedly.
Bucky straightened and closed the fridge. He leaned back against it, eyes watchful. In some ways, he was still that sixteen-year-old Steve had met all those years ago -- but in all the worst ways. "Stark going to sleep the day away?"
"He was shot, Bucky. And given that he's going to try to do the entire investigation himself -- he's going to need the rest," Steve sighed. "Thank you for staying by the way. Tony appreciated it."
"Didn't do it for him. Did it for you and the kid," Bucky shrugged. "I know he's your friend Steve, though I have no idea why, given what he did to you. But I can understand why someone would want him dead. It's a pretty damn long list and my name's on it. Taking a shot at the kid narrows it down. And the fact that there were two hit men."
Something about the cold, almost emotionless way Bucky spoke made Steve a little sick.
"This was done in my name." He wasn't sure what he would have done if Maria and Tony had died while someone claimed it was done to avenge him.
Bucky looked up from the floor at him. "I know. Another thing we can blame Stark for."
"This isn't Tony's fault --" Steve growled, wanting to shake Bucky. Tony was going to blame himself enough without others adding to it.
"Cap, even if that video turns out to be as fake as Stark thinks it is -- it's his fault your name got dragged into it." Bucky pushed away from the fridge. "You were a martyr to the cause. Remember everyone still thinks you are dead and a lot of people blame Stark as much as if he pulled the trigger. Now, I'm going to help track down the bastard that hired someone to put a bullet in your kid, but --"
Steve shook his head. Was that why Bucky and Sharon had wanted Maria? They thought she was his? "She's not my kid. She's Tony's."
Bucky looked at him sharply, opened his mouth then closed it with an audible snap. "Yeah, fine, whatever." He jerked his head toward the living room. "We should go. See what we can find from our end."
Steve reached out and caught Bucky's shoulder as he passed. "Thank you, Bucky."
Bucky smiled slightly. "Stop calling me Bucky, will you? I'm not a kid anymore. It's bad enough you've got Stark doing it."
"I hadn't noticed," Steve grinned, rolling his eyes.
Bucky made a face at him.
***
“No, Mr. Stark is not available for comment. --- I believe you received our statement on the incident. ---Yes, that is all we have to say at this time. --- No, you cannot have a statement from Maria. --- I’ll be sure to pass that along, good day.” Pepper resisted slamming down the phone. If she had to field one more call from a reporter she was – she was just going to let the damn phone ring.
"Damn vultures," she muttered, reaching for her coffee and making a face when she took a sip of the cold liquid.
Tony had been holed up in his personal office in the penthouse since morning, though she was fairly certain Steve would drag him out and make him rest soon if he hadn’t already. Tony would bury himself in tracking these people down, if they let him.
Thankfully, he did seem to be letting Sharon and James help him. Not to mention that, as the director of SHIELD, there were various other people looking into the incident. SHIELD had apprehended one the assassins earlier that morning – Tony hadn’t given her more information than that and she hadn’t been upstairs in hours--but Tony’s main focus was the mastermind behind it all. He’d told her he was certain it was the same person who’d planned the attacks on his plants and sent the threatening note about Maria.
Unfortunately, this left Pepper fending off calls from the media, politicians, -- and if Rutgers called her ‘honey’ again when he called, she was going to do something drastic -- and other various groups that hoped this event would sway Tony to their side.
It was a bit terrifying how easily people seemed to believe that anyone who’d known Captain America – Steve Rogers – could think attacking Tony and Maria would avenge him. Even more terrifying was that Steve himself believed it. She hoped Tony had managed to convince him otherwise.
Pepper rested her face in her hands, fighting off exhaustion. Last night had been hell, but nothing compared to what it could have been.
“Pepper, are you alright?”
She looked up and had to blink twice because the sight was rather unexpected. Not unpleasant, just unexpected. In fact, she hadn’t been so happy to see someone in a while. “Just tired, Stephen. It was a long night.”
Stephen looked concerned, though Pepper wasn’t sure if it was about her, or everything that had happened. With Doctor Stephen Strange you could never known. “How are Tony and the girl? I’m sure he will not see me, but I wanted to offer my assurances that none of my people had a hand in the events of last night.”
Pepper got to her feet and walked around the desk. “Tony knows that,” she assured him. She leaned back against her desk. “Tony is--well you know how Tony is. And it could have been worse.”
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. She didn’t want to think about how much worse it could have been. The bullet could have hit Tony’s head or chest and she didn’t think even Extremis could fix that. And Maria--if Peter hadn't been there…
Stephen touched her cheek, and she opened her eyes. “I believe you need a break, Pepper,” He told her. “Let me buy you coffee.”
Pepper smiled slightly. “You always buy me coffee, Stephen. You’ve yet to let me buy my own.”
"Then let me buy you lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten yet today." He was looking at her desk and the picked-at muffin.
It was tempting. She did want a break from the phone, from the worry. Pepper chewed on her bottom lip. “Alright,” she told him. “The phone can survive without me for a while.”
Stephen offered her his arm and she took it. “So tell me, Pepper, how many reporters have you threatened today?”
She laughed. “It might be easier to list the ones I haven’t.”
***
The man sitting across the table from Tony was grinning widely at him despite the cuffs on his ankles and wrists, and the armed SHIELD guards feet away. Carol stood behind Tony, her arms folded. Maria Hill was behind the two-way mirror.
Tony wanted to wipe that grin off the bastard's face. He wanted his armor; he wanted to make this man pay for putting so much fear into his daughter's eyes.
"John DeCabe - hit-man, thug, drug runner and jay-walker," Tony said, by way of greeting.
"The jay-walking was a frame job," John laughed. "Whadda want, Stark? I'm not going to tell you anything and you can't touch me. My lawyer will have me out of here in no time."
Tony crossed his arms, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder. "I don't think you quite understand the situation, DeCabe. You didn't just shoot at me, Tony Stark, industrialist; you shot at the Director of SHIELD. Maybe you've noticed where you are." Tony moved forward, eyes narrowing. "So I suggest you tell me everything you know about who hired you and just what your instructions were."
DeCabe titled his head and snorted. "Or what? You'll sic your pet super over there on me? Or you'll rough me up?" He laughed.
"I suggest you tell Director Stark what he wants to know, Mr. DeCabe," Carol spoke up, her eyes narrow.
"Look, I have a reputation to maintain. My clients expect anonymity and I give it to them. Prison, after all, is only a temporary state." DeCabe's smile was cocky. Tony’s fists itched to pound it off of his face.
Tony walked around the table and behind DeCabe. "I think you should tell me now, DeCabe. We know you were the one aiming at me. And you’re too good of a shot to have missed so badly if I was meant to be dead. If you cooperate, things might go better for you."
"I'll take my chances. Some people might want to give me a medal for almost taking you out. Why should I help you?"
"I'll tell you why." Leaning down, Tony spoke into the man's ear. "Because if you don't, when I walk back in here, I'll have my armor on. And I just might mistake your face for my current practice target," Tony whispered, low and dangerous.
DeCabe stopped moving. "You can't threaten me like this. I've got rights."
Tony bared his teeth. DeCabe was staring at his reflection in the two-way mirror. "You'll find that I can. Ever seen the damage my repulsors can do?" Tony growled. "I have no qualms about letting the telepath standing behind that glass rummage through your head until they drag out every little bit of information, and then beating it out of you again just for the hell of it."
"Get him away from me! I want my lawyer!" DeCabe yelled at Carol. "You hear him threatening me?"
Carol raised an eyebrow. "I haven't heard Director Stark say a word, Mr. DeCabe. Are you ready to cooperate with us? If so, we'll be more than willing to call in agents to take your statement."
"I'm not telling you anything. I want my lawyer. You both know you can't touch me." DeCabe gloated. "How's that little girl of yours, Stark? I hear you got her because you like them young and vulnerable. Too bad Ricker's shot missed. Should have splattered her pretty little brains all over your tux."
Tony's fist hit the side of the man's face, almost knocking him out of his chair. "Shall we see what that would feel like with my armor on?" Tony asked, softly. "It's not you I want, DeCabe."
DeCabe spit out a mouthful of blood. "Jesus Christ, I'll talk, I'll talk! Just get him away from me."
Tony stepped away from him as two SHIELD Agents entered the room. "Get him some medical treatment after you take his statement," Tony told them. "I had to subdue him." And of course there would be an odd glitch in the security feed for those several seconds.
One of the agents grinned slightly. "Yes, sir, Director Stark," she acknowledged as Tony and Carol left the room.
"Jesus, Tony," Carol breathed. "Was that necessary? We could have called Emma in."
"It was faster this way," Tony snapped, and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I lost my temper back there. I'm sorry." His hands were shaking. He could clearly remember that horrible dream and Maria's blood on his hands as she bled out in front of him.
Carol touched his shoulder. "I think you should go home. Let us handle it from here with this one. We'll alert you with further information."
"For once, I agree with Ms. Marvel," Maria Hill said, coming around the corner. "You're still recovering from an injury, and we can handle this."
"I want to be kept fully abreast of any and all updates no matter how small, you understand?" Tony told Hill.
She nodded. "Of course, sir." Then she smiled just slightly. "By the way, nice work. We'll make a SHIELD Director out of you yet."
***
Maria lay on her stomach under her bed, her head pillowed on her folded arms. Her door was half-way open and she’d spent most of the day, since Tony had left, listening to the sounds drift in from the outer rooms.
Both Jarvis and Steve had tried to coax her into come out, but she didn’t want to talk to them. She wanted to talk to Tony, and Tony wasn’t there. There was something in her chest that clawed up every time she went to speak, like a warning that if she made a noise something bad was going to happen.
Something worse…
No one seemed to care that she had failed to protect Tony. Not Jarvis, or Peter, or Steve. Not even Tony.
Jarvis had brought her fresh baked chocolate chip cookies at one point, and she didn’t understand why really. She’d failed, hadn’t she? Not just a little failure, but a big one. Tony had been hurt, and she’d been right there.
But Jarvis had looked so--sad--that she’d given him a smile and patted his hand. She wanted to say something, to crawl out from under the bed and hug him, but she felt safe were she was.
When he’d left the room, she’d heard him talking to Steve in the hallway.
“Is she still under the bed?” Steve had asked, and she wondered why he didn’t just come see for himself.
“She is, and she still isn’t speaking,” Jarvis had told Steve. He’d sounded odd to Maria, but that could have just been how the sound was traveling.
Maria had shifted forward slightly, her head almost out from under the bed, straining to hear.
“--was talking just fine to us earlier. She’ll be okay, Jarvis. They both will.”
“I hope you are correct,” Jarvis had said, almost too softly for Maria to hear. “One would think it would get easier--as many times as Anthony has almost been killed…”
The voices had moved away from the door, and Maria had laid her head back down on her arms.
Time passed slowly before a new set of feet came into view.
Tony’s.
“Hey, genius.” Tony crouched down next to the bed, and then moved to his stomach. Maria could see the bandage still wrapped around his shoulder.
She reached out and brushed her fingers against it. Tony reached out and stroked over the band-aid on her cheek. I’m sorry, she wanted to say, please don’t send me away.
“Hanging out under the bed today?” he asked, softly.
Maria nodded and scooted closer to Tony. “It’s safe.”
“It’s safe under your bed?” He sounded curious, but not upset or angry.
She nodded again.
“Do you feel like coming out now, or do you want to stay there a bit longer?” Tony cupped his hand around one of hers, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.
Maria bit her bottom lip. “Don’t send me away.”
Tony's thumb stilled. His eyes were unreadable and she feared she'd said the wrong thing. Panic bubbled up, and it was like she couldn't get enough air.
"I will strive to raise my performance level. I will not fail you again, Tony," she told him, doing her best not to sound like she was pleading, but her voice started to break and fracture. "I-I you promised I wouldn't have to leave."
Something like anger crossed Tony's face for a split second before it was gone. "I'm not going to send you away. What happened wasn't your fault, Maria. I'm just glad you're safe." He touched her cheek again. "It isn't your job to protect me."
Maria didn't know about that, but Tony seemed so sure. But if protecting Tony wasn't her purpose, then what was?
"I love you, genius. That isn't going to change, no matter what happens," Tony told her, squeezing her hand gently. "Okay?"
She didn't understand, but she nodded anyway. Slowly, she started to climb out from under the bed. Tony shifted into a sitting position and wrapped her in a hug as soon as she was out. She hugged him back, burying her face in his left shoulder.
They sat like that together for a long time, and if her face was wet -- Tony didn't say anything about it.
Next
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8 Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15,Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21
Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,
Part 7, Part 8 Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13,
Part 14, Part 15,Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19
Author:
kijikun Rating: R (NC-17 overall)
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Stephen Strange
Betas:
pandanoai and ellyr_in_ink Word Count:
Warnings: Spoilers through "Fallen Son", references to an institutionalized childhood
Timeline: Marvel Time is always kind of flexible, so we're setting this somewhere in the first half of 2008. Secret Invasion does not exist in this universe.
A/N: Con-crit and comments welcome as always. Also, please don't kill me.
Tony knew he was dreaming.
He was standing at the podium giving a speech that wouldn't mean anything in a few moments. He could hear himself talking about the young artists from lower income areas that the Maria Stark Foundation had supported and funded for the Gallery opening. Maria was standing next to him, her hand in his.
He knew how this was going to go but he was powerless to change anything. He wanted to wake up, to scream, anything to not relive this moment again.
The sound of the rifle echoed in Tony's ears as Maria was jerked out of his grip by the force of the bullet. He was aware of his own voice yelling Maria's name, before he cried out in pain as a bullet pierced his shoulder.
It was the memory of pain, a distant echo. It was nothing compared to the gutted feeling he experienced as he looked over at Maria. She was lying on the ground like a broken doll. The front of her dress was turning black with blood.
God, let him wake up before he got to her. He didn't want to feel her life drain out of her body again. He couldn't -- didn't want to -- but his body moved without his say-so.
Extremis was accessed without thought. Escape routes for the assassins were cut off, and images of them were already being processed and compared.
"Tony," Maria's voice was weak, scared. Her eyes were so very wide.
"It's okay, it's okay." He lied, just as he did every time. His hands were shaking and his voice was raw.
He was going to tear apart the people that did this.
Maria coughed, her body shaking. "F-failed you."
Tony shook his head. "No, no you didn't, Maria. I failed you. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry."
Her blood was leaking past his hands, resisting his attempts to stem the flow.
She mouthed his name, no voice left, before the light seemed to drain out of her eyes.
He clutched her to him, screaming in grief and rage.
Tony jolted awake as the armor alerted him he'd reached his destination.
The building in L.A. was run down, condemned… but inside laid his prey. He'd spent the last two weeks hunting this bastard.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd really eaten or truly slept. Every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by Maria's death and the dream -- the nightmare turned hellish. Instead of the gallery they were in the penthouse, and when he’d looked up, it had been Steve holding the gun that had killed their daughter.
He hadn't spoken to anyone since Reed at the funeral. Pepper had given up trying two days ago. She’d finally stopped when he'd told her that there was nothing but this mission.
Steve still tried.
He'd call Tony using every override Tony had ever given him; begging Tony to talk to him, begging him to come back to the penthouse, to let someone help him with this, to please not kill himself to avenge Maria. He always finished by telling Tony how much he loved him. Sometimes he sounded like he was crying.
Tony listened to each message with his eyes closed, but he never spoke to Steve…
His left arm had been crushed earlier in the week. He'd never received proper medical care for his right shoulder. Extremis was barely keeping him together and he wasn't sure he'd last long out of the armor now.
Most of the Secret Avengers had registered, but the media was still blaming anti-reg groups for Maria's death. Tony didn't care.
Steve knew the truth. That was enough.
Tony entered the building and he didn't care if he ever came back out.
"Tony. Tony!" There was a hand on his chest.
Tony jolted awake, flailing and striking out. "Maria!" His right shoulder burned with pain.
His memories still felt fuzzy; all he could really remember was a sense of loss.
Strong hands were holding him down. A solid body pressed his back onto a soft mattress. Tony struggled blindly, panic still clawing at him.
"Tony, calm down." Steve’s voice was right by his ear. "You were having a nightmare. Maria's fine."
Steve. He was in bed with Steve. Maria was fine.
The fight left him in a rush, leaving him shaking and drained -- like his heart needed a recharge.
"I -- I -- she was dead. I dreamt she was dead." Tony's voice was hoarse even to his own ears. His throat felt raw, like he'd been screaming or throwing up.
He remembered now -- Peter yelling at them to get down and bodily pushing Maria out of the way. Tony had been hit in the shoulder, but Maria had only been grazed across the cheek.
Steve nodded. "She's asleep in her bed, Tony. Let me check your shoulder. You could be bleeding again," Steve told him softly, taking his weight off of Tony's body. "You should have let them keep you in the hospital overnight."
Tony sat up as Steve flicked on a light. The green LED numbers from the clock on the nightstand read 2:30. He'd been asleep for two hours. Four hours since they'd returned to the penthouse. Six hours since the shooting.
"I wouldn't have slept any better there, and Maria would have been in a panic."
Maria had alternated between clinging to Tony and clinging to Peter. Peter, with MJ by his side (who had arrived at the hospital after Peter called her) had managed to keep Maria calm and let the doctor look at the cut on her face. Tony hadn't wanted her out of his sight, and was torn between using the hospital cameras to watch her while his shoulder was treated, and tracking down any and all information about the two assassins.
He closed his eyes as Steve unwrapped his shoulder, checking the bandages. Steve's hands were unsteady and the kiss he pressed to the back of Tony's neck was heartbreakingly tender. It had been Pepper that had remembered to get word to Steve on his and Maria's conditions.
"And I didn't want you worrying," Tony murmured. "I'm sorry you had to hear about it on the news. I didn't think --"
"You had other things on your mind, Tony." Steve assured him. Tony wished he could see Steve's face. "I - I'm just glad both of you are safe."
Steve's arms slid around Tony and he gratefully leaned back against Steve's chest. "I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have brought Peter and MJ back with me, but they were so worried about Maria --"
"They were worried about you too, Tony," Steve protested softly.
Tony opened his eyes, wondering when he'd closed them. "Maybe."
For a moment they were both quiet and all Tony could hear was the sound of Steve breathing and the sound of his heart. The cameras told him everyone was safe and asleep. Maria was tucked up in bed. Jarvis was in his apartment.
Even Sharon and Bucky were asleep on the couch in the living room -- and Tony could almost laugh that he was grateful to have them there acting as guardians. And it was probably a sign of how tired he was that he'd repeated that out loud without a moment's thought.
"If it wasn't for them -- I would have gone to the gallery.” Steve responded. “I probably would have gone to every hospital in New York until I found you and Maria. All I could think about was that you could be dead." Steve’s voice sounded strained. His arms tightened around Tony. "You both could be dead because of me."
Tony pushed himself out of the tight circle of Steve's arms. He turned to look at Steve, frowning slightly. "Steve, that video was bullshit. Some hoaxer with bad taste or someone trying to start something. I should start descrambling it now… see if I can't match the voice or face to someone in the system, not to mention tracing it back to its originator. We can't assume --"
Steve clenched his jaw. "It doesn't matter if the video and claims are bogus, Tony. People believed it. I believed it."
Tracing the line of Steve's jaw with his left hand, Tony shook his head. "Let them believe whatever the hell they want to. We both know the truth." He shifted to get closer to Steve, to trail kisses along the path his fingers had taken. Tony's shoulder protested and drew a wince from him.
"Your shoulder?" Steve asked, stilling Tony with gentle hands.
Tony contemplated denying it, but then nodded. "Yeah. I think the hydromorphone from the hospital is starting to wear off."
Steve frowned. "You haven't taken anything since you've been home? Tony, it's been several hours. You've got to be hurting."
"I hate pain meds," Tony muttered. "I can't think straight on them. I need Extremis at full capacity."
"You need to not be a walking bundle of pain," Steve snapped sharply, reaching over Tony to the pill bottle on the nightstand. He read the label before he shook out two of the pills. Steve pressed them into Tony's hand, then reached for the glass of water on his own nightstand.
Tony glared at him. "I can handle the pain. I don't need this stuff. I need to be alert in two hours."
Steve glared right back. "Do you want to be wincing every time you hug Maria?" He asked, using his 'do-not-argue-with-me-I'm-the-goddamn-Captain-America' voice. Not that Steve had ever called himself, or been referred to as, 'the goddamn Captain America.' That could be a sign that either pain, stress, or lack of sleep was indeed getting to him.
"Low blow," Tony accused, but dutifully put the pills in his mouth and swallowed them down with water.
"It worked," Steve pointed out. He leaned in and kissed Tony gently on the mouth. He cradled the back of Tony's head in a strong, broad hand. "You can pretend you can handle everything yourself in the morning -- just please -- let me take care of you right now."
Tony leaned in for another kiss, suddenly desperate for it. "What if this is the dream?" he asked suddenly, wrapping his hands around Steve's forearms.
"It's not," Steve promised into Tony's mouth. "This is real." He pushed Tony down onto the mattress and Tony's shoulder protested in a brief flash of pain.
Tony couldn't remember really feeling pain in the nightmare -- so this had to be real. "If you really want to take care of me, you'll fuck me," Tony said softly, looking up at Steve hovering above him.
He knew the answer before Steve spoke. While Steve dipped down to kiss him, teeth grazing Tony's bottom lip, the answer was clear in Steve's eyes. "No, Tony. You're hurt, tired."
"Please?" Tony begged, almost because he knew he wouldn't get what he wanted. There was something grounding about that, and so very Steve. Denying him what he said he needed for what he really needed.
Even if sleep was the last thing Tony wanted, he wasn't in a hurry to go back to his nightmares.
Steve’s lips barely brushed over Tony's, more a caress then a kiss. "No." He settled down beside Tony on the bed, wrapping his arms around Tony… after he’d pulled the blankets securely around them, of course. "I love you."
"I love you," Tony returned, focusing on the far wall in the dark. He ran through the cameras again, checked all the security doors, checked the tracing of the two assassins -- he'd found the identity of one by the unique gun he used and the other because he often worked with the first. He'd already found their bank accounts and identified large recent deposits -- he'd made sure the other Avengers, not to mention law enforcement had the details -- Tony was more worried about who'd hired them.
Steve kissed the back of his neck. "Stop thinking." He was tracing patterns on Tony's stomach.
Tony chuckled. "Don't know how." But for a moment, he stopped running over every detail, stopped listening to the Avengers communication network, let two of the news feeds drop, and concentrated on Steve's fingers.
The last thing he could clearly remember was Steve's voice, soft and low. "I won't let this happen again in my name."
Then he was asleep.
It was five am, and Steve was awake. He couldn't say what it was that woke him, but he'd jolted awake, pulse racing. Tony had stirred but hadn't woken. Maria had nestled further into Tony's arms, and if he'd woken her, she gave no other sign.
He didn't quite remember when she'd wound up in their bed over her own, but at least they were both asleep.
Steve ghosted his hand over the back of Tony's head. Maria stirred again, hazy but focused eyes blinking open at him. Steve stroked her cheek gently with the back of his hand.
"Shh, go back to sleep. Everything's fine," he whispered.
She stared at him silently and he was at a loss to read her expression. "That man is still out there," she whispered back, glancing up at Tony's face.
Steve frowned slightly. 'That man?'
"We'll find out who did this, Maria," he promised softly, not wanting to wake Tony. If Tony woke, he'd start working and he wouldn't rest until Steve made him, his head hurt too much to concentrate on even Extremis, or his armor was out of commission.
Maria shook her head, and she lifted one hand toward the door. "Him."
"She means Bucky," Tony muttered, eyes still closed. Tony shifted slightly, and rubbed Maria's back with his right hand. It was an awkward motion due to his shoulder. "Let Steve worry about him, genius. He isn't a threat to us. Close your eyes and sleep, it's not time to be up yet." His tone was sleepily firm.
It seemed to reassure Maria, who closed her eyes after staring at Steve for a few more seconds.
God, he'd love to know what went on inside that child's head sometimes.
Steve tucked some of Maria's hair back behind her ear and kissed the shell of Tony's ear. "I'm going to go check on them," he murmured. "And Maria needs a hair cut."
"Hmm," Tony responded.
Steve slid from the bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Barefoot, he padded out into the living room. Sharon was fast asleep on the couch, a blanket pulled around her.
He found Bucky in the kitchen, frowning into the fridge. "Doesn't Stark keep any beer around here?" he muttered at Steve when he entered the room.
"No, he doesn't. Recovering alcoholics generally don't as a rule," Steve told him pointedly.
Bucky straightened and closed the fridge. He leaned back against it, eyes watchful. In some ways, he was still that sixteen-year-old Steve had met all those years ago -- but in all the worst ways. "Stark going to sleep the day away?"
"He was shot, Bucky. And given that he's going to try to do the entire investigation himself -- he's going to need the rest," Steve sighed. "Thank you for staying by the way. Tony appreciated it."
"Didn't do it for him. Did it for you and the kid," Bucky shrugged. "I know he's your friend Steve, though I have no idea why, given what he did to you. But I can understand why someone would want him dead. It's a pretty damn long list and my name's on it. Taking a shot at the kid narrows it down. And the fact that there were two hit men."
Something about the cold, almost emotionless way Bucky spoke made Steve a little sick.
"This was done in my name." He wasn't sure what he would have done if Maria and Tony had died while someone claimed it was done to avenge him.
Bucky looked up from the floor at him. "I know. Another thing we can blame Stark for."
"This isn't Tony's fault --" Steve growled, wanting to shake Bucky. Tony was going to blame himself enough without others adding to it.
"Cap, even if that video turns out to be as fake as Stark thinks it is -- it's his fault your name got dragged into it." Bucky pushed away from the fridge. "You were a martyr to the cause. Remember everyone still thinks you are dead and a lot of people blame Stark as much as if he pulled the trigger. Now, I'm going to help track down the bastard that hired someone to put a bullet in your kid, but --"
Steve shook his head. Was that why Bucky and Sharon had wanted Maria? They thought she was his? "She's not my kid. She's Tony's."
Bucky looked at him sharply, opened his mouth then closed it with an audible snap. "Yeah, fine, whatever." He jerked his head toward the living room. "We should go. See what we can find from our end."
Steve reached out and caught Bucky's shoulder as he passed. "Thank you, Bucky."
Bucky smiled slightly. "Stop calling me Bucky, will you? I'm not a kid anymore. It's bad enough you've got Stark doing it."
"I hadn't noticed," Steve grinned, rolling his eyes.
Bucky made a face at him.
“No, Mr. Stark is not available for comment. --- I believe you received our statement on the incident. ---Yes, that is all we have to say at this time. --- No, you cannot have a statement from Maria. --- I’ll be sure to pass that along, good day.” Pepper resisted slamming down the phone. If she had to field one more call from a reporter she was – she was just going to let the damn phone ring.
"Damn vultures," she muttered, reaching for her coffee and making a face when she took a sip of the cold liquid.
Tony had been holed up in his personal office in the penthouse since morning, though she was fairly certain Steve would drag him out and make him rest soon if he hadn’t already. Tony would bury himself in tracking these people down, if they let him.
Thankfully, he did seem to be letting Sharon and James help him. Not to mention that, as the director of SHIELD, there were various other people looking into the incident. SHIELD had apprehended one the assassins earlier that morning – Tony hadn’t given her more information than that and she hadn’t been upstairs in hours--but Tony’s main focus was the mastermind behind it all. He’d told her he was certain it was the same person who’d planned the attacks on his plants and sent the threatening note about Maria.
Unfortunately, this left Pepper fending off calls from the media, politicians, -- and if Rutgers called her ‘honey’ again when he called, she was going to do something drastic -- and other various groups that hoped this event would sway Tony to their side.
It was a bit terrifying how easily people seemed to believe that anyone who’d known Captain America – Steve Rogers – could think attacking Tony and Maria would avenge him. Even more terrifying was that Steve himself believed it. She hoped Tony had managed to convince him otherwise.
Pepper rested her face in her hands, fighting off exhaustion. Last night had been hell, but nothing compared to what it could have been.
“Pepper, are you alright?”
She looked up and had to blink twice because the sight was rather unexpected. Not unpleasant, just unexpected. In fact, she hadn’t been so happy to see someone in a while. “Just tired, Stephen. It was a long night.”
Stephen looked concerned, though Pepper wasn’t sure if it was about her, or everything that had happened. With Doctor Stephen Strange you could never known. “How are Tony and the girl? I’m sure he will not see me, but I wanted to offer my assurances that none of my people had a hand in the events of last night.”
Pepper got to her feet and walked around the desk. “Tony knows that,” she assured him. She leaned back against her desk. “Tony is--well you know how Tony is. And it could have been worse.”
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. She didn’t want to think about how much worse it could have been. The bullet could have hit Tony’s head or chest and she didn’t think even Extremis could fix that. And Maria--if Peter hadn't been there…
Stephen touched her cheek, and she opened her eyes. “I believe you need a break, Pepper,” He told her. “Let me buy you coffee.”
Pepper smiled slightly. “You always buy me coffee, Stephen. You’ve yet to let me buy my own.”
"Then let me buy you lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten yet today." He was looking at her desk and the picked-at muffin.
It was tempting. She did want a break from the phone, from the worry. Pepper chewed on her bottom lip. “Alright,” she told him. “The phone can survive without me for a while.”
Stephen offered her his arm and she took it. “So tell me, Pepper, how many reporters have you threatened today?”
She laughed. “It might be easier to list the ones I haven’t.”
The man sitting across the table from Tony was grinning widely at him despite the cuffs on his ankles and wrists, and the armed SHIELD guards feet away. Carol stood behind Tony, her arms folded. Maria Hill was behind the two-way mirror.
Tony wanted to wipe that grin off the bastard's face. He wanted his armor; he wanted to make this man pay for putting so much fear into his daughter's eyes.
"John DeCabe - hit-man, thug, drug runner and jay-walker," Tony said, by way of greeting.
"The jay-walking was a frame job," John laughed. "Whadda want, Stark? I'm not going to tell you anything and you can't touch me. My lawyer will have me out of here in no time."
Tony crossed his arms, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder. "I don't think you quite understand the situation, DeCabe. You didn't just shoot at me, Tony Stark, industrialist; you shot at the Director of SHIELD. Maybe you've noticed where you are." Tony moved forward, eyes narrowing. "So I suggest you tell me everything you know about who hired you and just what your instructions were."
DeCabe titled his head and snorted. "Or what? You'll sic your pet super over there on me? Or you'll rough me up?" He laughed.
"I suggest you tell Director Stark what he wants to know, Mr. DeCabe," Carol spoke up, her eyes narrow.
"Look, I have a reputation to maintain. My clients expect anonymity and I give it to them. Prison, after all, is only a temporary state." DeCabe's smile was cocky. Tony’s fists itched to pound it off of his face.
Tony walked around the table and behind DeCabe. "I think you should tell me now, DeCabe. We know you were the one aiming at me. And you’re too good of a shot to have missed so badly if I was meant to be dead. If you cooperate, things might go better for you."
"I'll take my chances. Some people might want to give me a medal for almost taking you out. Why should I help you?"
"I'll tell you why." Leaning down, Tony spoke into the man's ear. "Because if you don't, when I walk back in here, I'll have my armor on. And I just might mistake your face for my current practice target," Tony whispered, low and dangerous.
DeCabe stopped moving. "You can't threaten me like this. I've got rights."
Tony bared his teeth. DeCabe was staring at his reflection in the two-way mirror. "You'll find that I can. Ever seen the damage my repulsors can do?" Tony growled. "I have no qualms about letting the telepath standing behind that glass rummage through your head until they drag out every little bit of information, and then beating it out of you again just for the hell of it."
"Get him away from me! I want my lawyer!" DeCabe yelled at Carol. "You hear him threatening me?"
Carol raised an eyebrow. "I haven't heard Director Stark say a word, Mr. DeCabe. Are you ready to cooperate with us? If so, we'll be more than willing to call in agents to take your statement."
"I'm not telling you anything. I want my lawyer. You both know you can't touch me." DeCabe gloated. "How's that little girl of yours, Stark? I hear you got her because you like them young and vulnerable. Too bad Ricker's shot missed. Should have splattered her pretty little brains all over your tux."
Tony's fist hit the side of the man's face, almost knocking him out of his chair. "Shall we see what that would feel like with my armor on?" Tony asked, softly. "It's not you I want, DeCabe."
DeCabe spit out a mouthful of blood. "Jesus Christ, I'll talk, I'll talk! Just get him away from me."
Tony stepped away from him as two SHIELD Agents entered the room. "Get him some medical treatment after you take his statement," Tony told them. "I had to subdue him." And of course there would be an odd glitch in the security feed for those several seconds.
One of the agents grinned slightly. "Yes, sir, Director Stark," she acknowledged as Tony and Carol left the room.
"Jesus, Tony," Carol breathed. "Was that necessary? We could have called Emma in."
"It was faster this way," Tony snapped, and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I lost my temper back there. I'm sorry." His hands were shaking. He could clearly remember that horrible dream and Maria's blood on his hands as she bled out in front of him.
Carol touched his shoulder. "I think you should go home. Let us handle it from here with this one. We'll alert you with further information."
"For once, I agree with Ms. Marvel," Maria Hill said, coming around the corner. "You're still recovering from an injury, and we can handle this."
"I want to be kept fully abreast of any and all updates no matter how small, you understand?" Tony told Hill.
She nodded. "Of course, sir." Then she smiled just slightly. "By the way, nice work. We'll make a SHIELD Director out of you yet."
Maria lay on her stomach under her bed, her head pillowed on her folded arms. Her door was half-way open and she’d spent most of the day, since Tony had left, listening to the sounds drift in from the outer rooms.
Both Jarvis and Steve had tried to coax her into come out, but she didn’t want to talk to them. She wanted to talk to Tony, and Tony wasn’t there. There was something in her chest that clawed up every time she went to speak, like a warning that if she made a noise something bad was going to happen.
Something worse…
No one seemed to care that she had failed to protect Tony. Not Jarvis, or Peter, or Steve. Not even Tony.
Jarvis had brought her fresh baked chocolate chip cookies at one point, and she didn’t understand why really. She’d failed, hadn’t she? Not just a little failure, but a big one. Tony had been hurt, and she’d been right there.
But Jarvis had looked so--sad--that she’d given him a smile and patted his hand. She wanted to say something, to crawl out from under the bed and hug him, but she felt safe were she was.
When he’d left the room, she’d heard him talking to Steve in the hallway.
“Is she still under the bed?” Steve had asked, and she wondered why he didn’t just come see for himself.
“She is, and she still isn’t speaking,” Jarvis had told Steve. He’d sounded odd to Maria, but that could have just been how the sound was traveling.
Maria had shifted forward slightly, her head almost out from under the bed, straining to hear.
“--was talking just fine to us earlier. She’ll be okay, Jarvis. They both will.”
“I hope you are correct,” Jarvis had said, almost too softly for Maria to hear. “One would think it would get easier--as many times as Anthony has almost been killed…”
The voices had moved away from the door, and Maria had laid her head back down on her arms.
Time passed slowly before a new set of feet came into view.
Tony’s.
“Hey, genius.” Tony crouched down next to the bed, and then moved to his stomach. Maria could see the bandage still wrapped around his shoulder.
She reached out and brushed her fingers against it. Tony reached out and stroked over the band-aid on her cheek. I’m sorry, she wanted to say, please don’t send me away.
“Hanging out under the bed today?” he asked, softly.
Maria nodded and scooted closer to Tony. “It’s safe.”
“It’s safe under your bed?” He sounded curious, but not upset or angry.
She nodded again.
“Do you feel like coming out now, or do you want to stay there a bit longer?” Tony cupped his hand around one of hers, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.
Maria bit her bottom lip. “Don’t send me away.”
Tony's thumb stilled. His eyes were unreadable and she feared she'd said the wrong thing. Panic bubbled up, and it was like she couldn't get enough air.
"I will strive to raise my performance level. I will not fail you again, Tony," she told him, doing her best not to sound like she was pleading, but her voice started to break and fracture. "I-I you promised I wouldn't have to leave."
Something like anger crossed Tony's face for a split second before it was gone. "I'm not going to send you away. What happened wasn't your fault, Maria. I'm just glad you're safe." He touched her cheek again. "It isn't your job to protect me."
Maria didn't know about that, but Tony seemed so sure. But if protecting Tony wasn't her purpose, then what was?
"I love you, genius. That isn't going to change, no matter what happens," Tony told her, squeezing her hand gently. "Okay?"
She didn't understand, but she nodded anyway. Slowly, she started to climb out from under the bed. Tony shifted into a sitting position and wrapped her in a hug as soon as she was out. She hugged him back, burying her face in his left shoulder.
They sat like that together for a long time, and if her face was wet -- Tony didn't say anything about it.