Summary: getting arrested gives you and Dean an opportunity to reflect on a past encounter with the law
Song Inspiration: Cop Car, by Keith Urban
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2,100
Warnings: language, trespassing, getting arrested
A/N: This is my submission for @butiaintgonnaloveem‘s Tiff’s WTF Challenge! Thanks so much for such excellent - and hysterical - prompts, Tiff, and for extending the challenge! Even so, I’m in under the wire and completely scrapped my first idea for this prompt, but I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. I edited the prompt just a little, and it’s in bold below!
When Tony first set out to convince Bruce to move into Stark Tower with him, he had focused especially on the building’s laboratory. He talked endlessly over lunch after they saw Loki and Thor off to Asgard. The list of amenities was quite impressive, featuring a lot of open space, enormous glass walls and windows, and equipment that Bruce had never even heard of before, let alone seen. The scientific facilities were not the only reason that Bruce finally gave in, but he had to admit they had been a large draw.
Thwap!
Unfortunately, Tony had failed to mention one other important feature of his building and more specifically the labs: his younger sister, [F Name] Stark.
“Ignore her,” Tony crooned in an undertone, as Bruce picked another wad of newspaper off the tabletop.
“That’s the fifth time today she’s thrown something at my head,” Bruce said, “and it’s not even lunchtime.”
“Could be worse. Could be throwing rocks.”
“Don’t give her any ideas.”
“Hello!” you called from behind them. “Do you mind not talking about me as though I’m not here?”
Tony turned to glare at you. “Do you mind annoying someone else for a little while? Maybe Steve would like some company in the gym.”
“If Dr. Banner finds what I’m doing annoying, maybe he should join Cap in the gym.”
Sighing, Tony turned back to his and Bruce’s latest attempt at a new AI. He checked its progress for all of five seconds, then tossed the tool in his hand onto the counter, spun around, and headed for the exit.
“This step should take another hour to complete. Keep an eye on it for me, would you?” he asked Bruce. “I think [Name] is the only person on the planet that can make me long for a long chat with Steve.”
Tony vanished before Bruce could protest. The likelihood of any protest working was slim, but Bruce would have liked to try. Now he was trapped up here unless you decided to leave him alone, something you hadn’t done once whenever you found him in the lab. He dropped his head into his crossed arms resting on the table and hoped that that morning you wouldn’t find him an entertaining target.
Thwap!
“[Name], if you want this floor to remain in one piece, you really need to stop throwing things at me,” he said, voice muffled by his sleeves.
Thwap!
“[Name]."
Thwap!
"I said stop!” Bruce growled as he twisted on his stool to face you.
His shoulders hunched up around his ears, and the breaths heaving from his chest contained a guttural edge. These symptoms alone should have been enough to frighten you, but no. Your bored expression did not flicker. You sat coolly on your stool at the other end of the room with one of the large pile of paper balls beside you clutched in one hand.
“Really?” you asked. “A couple of paper balls to the noggin makes you angry enough to Hulk out?”
“I’m always angry. All it takes is one little push.”
Bruce rubbed at his eyes with his fists. Already that one flare of anger had faded and left him wanting a nap. You were right about one thing, though: A bit of light prodding to the skull was not worth the full exhaustion of becoming the Hulk. He took several deep breaths to get himself under control—only for another paper to bean him in the head.
Thwap!
With a groan, Bruce crumpled the paper in his hand. “Why do you hate me so much, [Name]?”
“Why do you think I hate you?”
“Come on. You’ve had it in for me from the day we met. Any time you find me hanging around with Tony, you do whatever it takes for one of us to get sick of you and go away.”
“How do you mean?"
Thwap!
"Like that. Seriously, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to just go back to India and leave you and your brother in peace?”
“Of course not!” The mere suggestion seemed to leave you shocked. “Why would I want that?”
“If just seeing me around upsets you so much—"
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
A cascade of papers hit him one after another. He lifted his hands to shield himself from the blows, but they kept coming until you ran out of ammunition.
"I don’t hate you. God! You already figured out the problem, genius. And you’re supposed to have how many PhDs?”
“Seven,” Bruce answered vaguely. Without the continuous assault on his head, he could perhaps set his mind to figuring out what it was he had already figured out. All he could think of was: “You don’t like it when I spend time with Tony?”
“Ding, ding, ding, ding! Got it in one, Doctor.”
“But my moving to India would solve that problem.”
You had nothing else to toss at him. Apparently, this was reason enough for you get up and walk over to him. A few seconds later, you stood in front Bruce with your hands on your hips. “I don't care about spending time with my brother, all right? It’s not like I just got out of boarding school last week. We see plenty of each other. Which would mean…?”
“You…you want to spend more time with me?” Bruce said, once he realized you expected him to supply an answer. It wasn’t in the least logical, but you nodded. “That doesn’t make any sense! Whenever Tony and I are in here together, you torment me.”
As he blathered on, you just kept on nodding. That Bruce noticed. What he didn’t was the arm extending toward his collar—not until you hooked a finger around it and pulled him toward you until your lips nearly touched.
“That’s because I want to get you alone, Doctor, and out of the lab.”
Bruce gulped. “And why would that be?”
You grinned. “The things I want to do to you aren’t things I want Tony or JARVIS watching.”
“Er…I—That is to say—”
“I’m back! Wouldn’t you know it? Listening to Steve go on and on about the good old days is enough to get me to miss my baby sister,” Tony’s voice came up the stairs leading to the lab door.
Bruce felt himself turn bright red at the thought of him catching you and Bruce in such position, but you’d already released him by the time the thought occurred. Tony saw nothing as he entered the room.
“How about you two? Play nice while I was gone?”
“Um—” Bruce began.
“I ran out of paper balls,” you interrupted. “Don’t worry. I’ve recollected them.”
“Excellent. Then I think it’s about time Bruce and I returned to work. How about you, Bruce?”
Bruce’s eyes followed your sauntering course back to your own lab station. You winked at him as you dropped your projectiles back on its surface. Hastily, he spun back to the waiting holographic screen behind him.
“Yes,” he said. “Let’s.”
“Loving the enthusiasm, Big Guy. Now, I was thinking…”
In all honesty, Bruce didn’t really listen to the rest of Tony’s spiel. He had his mind on other matters—like the possibility of taking you up on that offer to spend time with you outside of the lab. This whole project shouldn’t take too much longer. Then, perhaps, he might convince you to go get a coffee with him.
Thwack!
…if only so you might stop throwing things at his head.
Notes: And so we begin with my attempt at replacing the ficlets I deleted from this collection! I’m going to try to post one a week, but there’s a lot going on, so I’m not going to beat myself up if I can’t get to it.
Hypocrisy
Finally! After an entire morning’s worth of needling and squirming and pouting, you found yourself in the open corridors of Asgard’s royal palace. Being a young woman—the only daughter of Odin’s Captain of the Guard at that—meant that you typically didn’t have many options for adventure whenever your father chose to drag you up there for some “society,” and that day’s meeting had been less adventure than most. Now that you were free of his and Odin’s watchful eyes, you intended to find yourself some fun, and you knew just who to look for to find that.
“Loki!”
Or perhaps that person would find you first. The enraged voice you caused you to jump about a foot in the air in fright.
A clatter of footsteps followed this cry. Louder they grew, and louder and louder, until a boy around your own age rounded the distant corner. You recognized him at once by the mischievous grin on his face. He in turn must have recognized you, for he picked up his pace the moment he spotted you.
“Loki?” you asked, but could not question Odin’s youngest son further before he darted behind you.
“Perfect timing as always, [Name],” he said.
“Perfect timing for what?”
“Loki, I am going to kill you!” the same voice from shouted. “And then I’m going to tell Mother!”
A strange noise issued from behind you. Turning, you found Loki stifling his laughter with his own palm. His green eyes twinkled with mirth. Thor continued stomping up the hall and opening (and slamming shut) every door on the way, and that only seemed to amuse Loki all the more.
“What did you do?” you asked. Your tone smacked the smile right off his face.
“Nothing!”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“All right, nothing important. Nothing Thor should be so worked up over, anyway. It was only a prank.”
“I thought the Allfather told you to stop pulling pranks on your brother,” you said with your hands on your hips.
Loki rolled his eyes. “What does he know? Thor’s got to learn to take a joke.”
“It’s not a joke if your prank is mean.”
“No one got bit this time! What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that you’re being—”
“There you are!”
Thor had found Loki at last. At least, you thought it was Thor. The red-faced boy headed right for you looked familiar, only he had bright blue hair with eyebrows to match. Your attempt at a swift greeting curtsy went ignored. Only Loki could capture Thor’s interest at the moment.
“Turn it back!” Thor shouted.
Loki didn’t flinch. “No.”
“If you don’t, I'll—”
“Make me? How? Get Sif to hold me down so you can punch me?”
Instead of thinking of a better way to finish his threat, Thor—still looking utterly ridiculous with his blue hair—lunged at his brother with a wordless cry of anger. Loki ducking behind you deterred Thor not at all. The two boys, one snarling, the other snickering, circled you. Around and around they went until you grew dizzy enough to shove the nearest person out of the endless whirlwind.
Unfortunately, that person turned out to be Thor. More unfortunately still, your shoving him was enough for you to end up at the wrong end of his wrath yourself.
“You're helping him!” Thor snapped incredulously.
“What?” You shook your head. “No, I—”
“I should have guessed you were in on this, [Name].”
“Wait. I had nothing to—”
“You're always helping him pick on me!”
“I never—”
“If that’s how you want things to be, fine. I’ll tell your dad, too. When he hears about this—”
A sudden peal of laughter from Loki interrupted Thor’s tirade. Disconcerted, Thor paused, but it didn’t take long for him to open his mouth to continue lecturing you. He took a deep breath, then found himself unable to speak over your laughter.
“What?” he demanded, looking between you and Loki as the two of you doubled over gasping for breath. “What are you laughing at? What’s so funny?”
“Maybe—maybe you should check a mirror,” Loki managed to choke out.
Thor’s eyes narrowed, but clearly his suspicions were great enough to convince him to follow Loki’s advice and leave you both unattended. It did not take long for him to find a reflective surface in the lush corridor. He took one look, then gasped. For good reason, too: Above his quivering lips now sat a magnificent mustache the exact same color as the rest of his hair.
“Mother!” Thor bawled before rushing back out of sight once more.
They were too much, his hysterics. Together you and Loki melted into a guffawing puddle right there on the palace floor. Only several minutes later did either of you recover to rise, hiccuping, into a seated position.
Loki shot you a knowing look as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “I thought you said I wasn’t to prank Thor anymore,” he said.
You sat up as straight as you could and said in your most prim of voices, “Thor has to learn to take a joke.”
This very nearly sent the two of you to the floor again. Struggling to contain himself, Loki instead hopped to his feet and offered you a hand to follow suit. You allowed him to pull you up. Each of you shot the other enormous grins at the exact same time. Then you both wordlessly raced up the hall side by side. Thor would be back soon, almost certainly with backup. Until then, there remained plenty of fun for you and your friend to go looking for.
When Bruce woke up, he found someone in his bed. This wasn’t an altogether strange occurrence, but he was quite certain he had gone to bed alone four hours ago. Trying not to feel too concerned, he wiggled halfway out of the sheets before peeling those beside him back. He was surprised to find youcurled up in a ball halfway down the mattress.
Bruce frowned. Had he gone to bed alone the night before? Yes, he was sure he had. He’d been up with Tony until one working on some new clean-energy plans and had had no chance to call and see if you had made it home all right after dinner.
“Um, [Name]?” He nudged you softly with his hand.
The tiny ball simply shuddered slightly at his touch.
Bruce tried again. “[Name]?”
Your eyelids fluttered and a small groan worked its way free of your throat as you stretched yourself out of your fetal position.
“Five more minutes,” you mumbled as you flipped over.
Bruce shook your shoulder. “Is there any particular reason you’re asleep in my bed?“
You opened your eyes completely at that. They darted across the unfamiliar walls and ceiling. Then you looked at him, cheeks already much darker than normal.
“Oh, no,” you said.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine!” You sat up and shuffled your feet across the carpet underneath the bed. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, Bruce.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” You certainly weren’t acting like it. “Are you sick?”
“No! No, I’m not. I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“But why are you here?”
You looked at him. Bruce looked back. At last, you took a deep breath and answered:
“I…have a problem.” His eyebrows rose at that, so you continued, “It’s not a big deal. I just…sleepwalk…sometimes. I guess I was thinking about you so much that my legs took me here without me making them.”
“Ah,” Bruce said, as if that explained things.
The color in your cheeks deepened still further as you stood up. "I’m so sorry. I’ll go home now.“
But you didn’t get far before he took your wrist. "Look, you’re already here. I missed you, too. Besides, it’s dangerous to be wandering around at five in the morning in your pajamas. Why don’t you just stay the night–or day, as the case may be?”
You paused before turning your head slightly to look at him. Your cheeks were beginning to fade back to their original color. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
Bruce shifted to his side to allow you space to crawl back underneath the blanket. As you snuggled back into the sheet, he chuckled and shifted you so he could tuck you into his chest. Before you fell back to sleep, he planted a kiss behind your ear and whispered:
“And maybe if this is going to be a frequent problem, you should just move in.”
When you first met Dr. Bruce Banner, you’d hated his guts. Physicist work was your work at Stark Industries, and you didn’t appreciate his coming along to usurp your position–not that Tony noticed your obvious disdain when he shoved the other man into your workspace.
“Look, [Name]! I brought you a souvenir: a new partner!” Tony said.
You would have preferred a “My boss saved the world and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” t-shirt. Surely that was apparent in the way your lips curled as you shook Dr. Banner’s hand. Still, Tony just grinned, slapped the two of you on the backs, and left with a jaunty:
“You two kids play nice now!”
Needles to say, you did not play nice. You glowered and sulked and pouted and glared. Dr. Banner didn’t try to stop you. He just did his work in silence and only deigned to speak up when he needed help finding a tool.
Several weeks passed in the same manner before something strange happened, and it was something you never could quite figure out. Things between the two of you just seemed to…shift.
“What do you say we take a break and go get lunch?” Dr. Banner interrupted the quiet to ask.
You looked up from your holo-screen to scowl at him. “Why are you asking me?“
"Because you don’t do anything other than work. You seem lonely.”
Your eyes widened. Dr. Banner gazed at you calmly in return. Then you slammed your palms onto the table and left the room.
It bothered you that he noticed something so easily that you thought you had been hiding so well. You didn’t go back to work after your lunch break that day, but instead spent the rest of the afternoon grouching at home, ranting to your goldfish about how exactly much you hated Dr. Banner.
Time passed. Your rage faded slowly to embarrassment. You realized that you had been taking out your feelings of inadequacy on a man that had been nothing but polite to you.
“About that lunch,” you said the next day.
Dr. Banner looked away from his notes.
“I–I’m sorry I snapped at you. Maybe we could go today?”
Bright shone the day you arrived in Britain for the long-awaited wedding. One minute you stood in comforting, familiar Sofia; the next, in strange, unfamiliar Ottery St. Catchpole. The long-distance portkey-ing left you too dizzy to walk immediately following your arrival. You’d never have found where you were going had you not been steadied by a firm hand at your elbow.
“Careful,” said Viktor in your shared native Bulgarian. “Are you all right?”
“The only thing I’ve hurt is my pride,” you assured him as you straightened yourself. “I’m still not used to traveling so far magically.”
He smiled. “You should come to more of my games.”
“And miss an opportunity for a great assignment that isn’tyour winning streak? I think not.”
The smile on his face widened as Viktor moved his hand to yours. “Come along. We don’t want to be late.”
To be honest, you would not have minded. You would not have minded missing the entire blasted ceremony. Going was important to Viktor, though, so you allowed him to pull you along beside him. He knew where he was going, at least.
The wide field in which you had landed seemed to stretch into the horizon in every direction. Soon enough—too soon for your liking—a strange shape reared up against the landscape. As you drew nearer, you realized the shape was a house that had a large tent filled with people set up next to it.
Sure enough, that tent turned out to be your destination. Viktor led you right to the entrance of it. There stood a young man with a shock of bright blue hair, waiting for guests.
“Friends of the groom or the bride?” asked the boy.
“Bride,” Viktor answered in English.
The child nodded and made to show you to your seats. Before he could get more than a few steps ahead, however, he got a good look at Viktor and froze in place.
“You’re Viktor Krum!” he gasped.
“That is me, yes.”
One of the things you loved most about Viktor was his modesty. You’d been dating another member of the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team when the two of you had met. His teammate hadn’t so much as known the definition of humility, and you were quite glad now that the relationship hadn’t worked out.
Then again, he probably wouldn’t have thought it a good idea to drag you to his ex-girlfriend’s wedding.
This boy did not seem not to be thinking of quidditch at all, though. He brightened upon confirmation of his suspicions before he headed off in an entirely different direction. “Auntie wanted to see you when you got here. Follow me!”
“If that is what Herm-Own-Ninny wishes,” Viktor said as he made to do so. His grip on your hand did not allow you to slip away unseen into the pavilion. “There is no need to be nervous,” he added quietly as the pair of you trailed after the child through the home’s cramped kitchen.
“Me? Why should I be nervous?” All you were doing was meeting your husband’s first love, the perfect, demure, brilliant woman who corresponded with him regularly to that very day. “I only worry about what the tabloids back home will say.”
The dark eyes he turned upon you sparkled with amusement. “Do you care what they say about you all of a sudden?”
“Of course not!”
“Neither do I. Don’t worry. You will like Herm-Own-Ninny very much.”
At that very moment, your youthful chaperone stopped at a door on the third-floor landing. He rapped on it before saying loudly, “Auntie! Viktor Krum is here to see you!”
Several seconds later, the door opened. A very pretty woman with bright red hair appeared there to ruffle the top of the boy’s head. “Thanks, Teddy,” she said. “Now get back to your post before Percy finds out you left it.”
“Okay!” Teddy sang, then pushed past you to race back the way had come from.
“Come on in,” said the woman, stepping aside to let you through.
Inside the room were three other women: one blonde reading a magazine in the corner by the window; a brunette sitting at a large oval mirror; and a second blonde working on the brunette’s hair. Only the last did you recognize: Fleur Weasley, her husband, and her daughter had all come to your own wedding a year ago. The redhead looked enough like Bill that she must have been a relative. Beyond those two, you were lost in a sea of strangers.
When the door closed behind you, the woman at the mirror gasped, stood, and walked over to your husband to embrace him.
“Viktor. I’m so glad you were able to make it.”
“Hermione! You will ruin your makeup,” Fleur scolded.
Hermione smiled sheepishly and stepped away.
“Not that Ron will notice,” said the redhead. “He’ll be too busy trying not to trip on his own two feet. He, Harry, and Neville got into the Fire Whiskey last night, so Ron’s going to be even clumsier than usual.”
“You look wonderful,” Viktor told the bride, and indeed she did. Though this Hermione did not radiate beauty like Fleur did, she had a quiet grace that you knew instantly Viktor liked. Her simple but flattering wedding robes only added to the effect.
“It’s been too long. I’m ever so sorry I didn’t make it your wedding. It was such a busy time at the Ministry,” Hermione said.
“I understand. Let me introduce you to my wife now: [F Name] Krum.”
“Hello,” you said uncomfortably. Your Bulgarian accent was much thicker than Viktor’s, as you’d had fewer opportunities to practice English than he had. It made you feel dumber than usual hearing it around that lot.
Hermione offered you her hand without remark. “Hermione Granger, soon to be Granger-Weasley,” she said, and the pair of you shook. “I hope you don’t dislike me too much for inviting you. I wanted to invite Viktor, you see, and Ron will feel so much better knowing you came along, too. Besides, I’ve wanted to meet you for ages! Viktor talks about you all the time in his letters.”
“He does?”
Viktor chose that time to turn his attention to the redhead. “So, Ginny, I hear that you and I will be having a rematch soon?”
“He does,” Hermione said before she leaned in closer to add, “and I can see that he wasn’t lying about a single thing he said about you.”
You felt blood rush to your face. That Viktor had been so kind about you in his letters surprised you. He wasn’t really keen on expressing his inner feelings to anyone but his closest friends. “He speaks quite highly of you as well.”
“He is a good sort of man, isn’t he? But enough about him. I’m sure you’ll be hearing about Viktor all night long. He tells me you work at the Bulgarian wizarding paper?”
“I do.”
“Do you keep a portfolio? Would you mind sending me some of your articles?”
“I could, but why would you want them?”
“I think reading the news from a Bulgarian point of view would be fascinating,” she answered, “and I’m told you’re a wonderfulwriter.”
You rolled your eyes, and at last offered Hermione a smile of your own. “What does he know? He only cares about quidditch.”
“Men.” Hermione laughed.
To your great surprise, you spent a very pleasant ten minutes chatting with Hermione, Ginny, Fleur, and the last woman (who turned out to be an oddity by the name of Luna Lovegood). Time seemed to fly by until Viktor took you toward the door so that you could find your seats.
“Goodbye, Herm-Own-Ninny. We will see you at the service,” he said.
A chorus of goodbyes followed you down the stairs. Before you could step outside, however, Viktor pulled you aside.
“What?” you asked him.
“Do you forgive her now?”
“Forgive who?”
“Herm-Own-Ninny. For dating me so long ago.”
You frowned. “It was never a matter of forgiving her. She’s just a little hard to live up to. But you were right. She is very nice.”
“She liked you, too. I could tell.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, then intertwined his fingers with yours as you left the house together. “Do you think there will still be seats in the back?”
With Teddy’s help, you found a couple. It wasn’t long after you got settled that the music started and Hermione appeared. For the first time, you were able to see her with clear eyes. She was beautiful, and blissfully happy with her own love. Hermione Granger-Weasley was no longer your rival. One day, she might even become your friend.
Summary:When you got married, people warned you that you wouldn’t just be marrying your husband, you’d be marrying into his family. Too bad no one ever warned you you’d be marrying into his friendships, too.
Rating/Warnings: All (Post-Captain America: Civil War;Captain America: Civil War Compliant; Hurt!James “Rhodey” Rhodes; Married!James “Rhodey” Rhodes; Vitriolic Best Buds; Mild Swearing; Avengers Compound)
Challenge:“100 Little Drabbles” by Wingu on Lunaescence Archives
Notes: This is my first go at writing Rhodey outside of his occasional appearances in longer Tony-centric works. It’s long overdue, and I might have gone a little overboard with Tony just because I feel bad that I always focus on his friendship with Bruce instead.
Part of the Package Deal
Gravel crunched beneath your feet as you stepped of your sensibly-sized and -colored rental car onto the Avengers Compound’s sweeping grounds. Several huge buildings rose up around you high enough to block out the sun crawling westward toward the horizon. You pulled your sunglasses off to get a better look at your surroundings. So this was where Jim had been spending so much time for the past year. And how could you blame him? This place blew your modest home in Malibu out of the water.
No, no, no! Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head back and forth until it cleared of the usual Stark razzle-dazzle. You refused to let anything here impress you. Tony thought modern architecture and flashy tech were enough to make up for the fact you never heard about your husband unless he’d been involved in an accident? Well, not anymore.
With one sharp exhale, you squared your shoulders and snapped your attention to the nearby doors. According to the map you’d printed off the internet, these led into the living quarters for the Avengers. You took one handle and yanked to no avail. Locked. Yes, you decided as you took a step back to look for any obtrusive security cameras, you were definitely in the right place.
“Tony!” You banged on the glass. “Tony, let me in!”
Peering inside revealed nothing but an empty room filled with exercise equipment. You knocked again.
“Tony, I did not fly all the way here from California for you to ignore me!”
“Mr. Stark is currently tied up in other matters. May I have your name, please?”
The cool, Irish-accented voice of a woman seemed to come from nowhere. You jumped about a foot away from the door. A minute or two of pulse-pounding shock later, you realized this must be yet another of Tony’s AIs. What had happened to JARVIS, you wondered. He never had to ask for your name.
“Your [Name], please,” the new AI insisted.
“[F Name] Rhodes,” you answered as you stepped back to the door.
“I have no such name on the approved visitor list for today. Please contact our publicity office to arrange for an appointment at a later date. Goodbye.”
“Hold it!”
No reply came forth. For all the good it would do, you smashed your fist against the door once more. Then you held your breath. Still nothing moved behind the glass. Had Tony’s artificial bouncer really just left you here alone?
“Ma'am, I’m afraid that if you do not vacate the facility premises in the next ten minutes, I will be forced to call in the authorities.”
Apparently not.
“Listen,” you said, still unsure of exactly where to look to get your point across. “You tell Tony that [F Name] Rhodes is here. If he still won’t let me in, I’ll gladly talk to whatever authorities you’re required to summon. If he wants the extra publicity, I don’t mind giving it to him.”
The woman didn’t answer. You wondered again what had become of JARVIS. JARVIS knew you. He would never have left you standing outside, listening for the sound of approaching sirens or Iron Man drones. Heck, he’d probably have opened the door without waiting to get permission from his precious boss.
Movement flashed somewhere in the back of the room a quarter of an inch away from you. A figure made its rapid way in your direction. Soon it was close enough for you to identify: Tony Stark had made an appearance at last. He looked uncharacteristically pale as he unlocked the door and pushed it open to allow you inside.
“Where’s Jim?” you asked after you dumped your purse on a nearby plastic chair—the only flat surface you could fine that wasn’t tile floor.
“Hello to you, too, [Name],” Tony said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Don’t play dumb with me..”
“You’re a long way from California. It never occurred to you to callfirst?”
“The line was busy.” You folded your arms across your chest and asked again calmly, “Where’s Jim?”
Tony pushed his hair from his forehead with a sigh. You noticed he was having trouble meeting your eyes. “Resting.”
“Restingwhere?”
“Can we not do this right now? Let me show you to a room. We’ve got plenty available. When Rhodey’s ready, we’ll all have dinner together. I might even be able to dig Vision up from wherever he got to. We can talk then.”
Asthough Tony could weasel out of a conversation you wanted to have with him. You’d known him far too long for any of his usual stalling tactics to work.
“Tony, I’ll tell you this one time before I start pulling this place apart with my bare hands: Give me. My husband.”
Your eyes locked with his. A long pause ensued. You could practically see the gears (or suitably high-tech equivalent) turning inside Tony’s skull as he struggled to come with some comeback witty enough to distract you. Too late. Before he could utter another word, you turned on your heel to follow the dim hallway leading from the room.
“Wait!” he called after you.
You stopped and look at him over your shoulder.
“I…I can’t.”
“Why not?” You could barely keep the anger from your voice.
“Because he isn’t ready yet.”
“He isn’t ready for what?”
“Ready for you to see him!”
Gritting your teeth in a silent snarl, you marched right back up to Tony and jabbed a finger into his chest where his arc reactor used to sit. “You have no right to keep me from him.”
“I know.” He took the hand still prodding him, but instead of shoving it away, he wrapped his own hand around yours. “[Name], I promise, as soon as he’s okay, I’ll take you right to him.”
“‘Okay’? ’Okay’? Why is he not okay? Did something else happen to him?”
“No, not exactly.”
“What is he doing here anyway? He should be at the VA!”
“Trust me. This the best place for him. I’ve got one of the best neurosurgeons in the country on speed dial. Admittedly not the best, because he wouldn’t take my calls—but this one is excellent, too, and she’s keeping a good eye on him! I’m doing the best with what I’ve got, all right?”
He probably thought you’d drop the point of your husband being kept at Avengers HQ instead of a medical facility. After all, Tony was the man that built the greatest technical innovation the world had seen in decades while being kept prisoner in a cave with a box of scraps. But this wasn’t the fate of Tony’s reputation or his company at stake here. It was the man you loved’s life.
“Not good enough,” you said.
Tony pulled you back as you attempted a second break for the hall. “[Name], would you listen to me? Rhodey is as physically and emotionally fine as he can be. All I’m asking for is a little more time.”
Something about that request broke the dam inside you. Every horrible feeling you had experienced over the last few days crashed over you—the fear, the anger, the stress, the worry, all of it. Despite your best efforts to keep yourself upright and strong, tears filled your eyes. You ripped your arm free of Tony’s grip so that you could wipe your face dry with your sleeve and level a dry glare at him.
“I have given you time, Tony. It’s been days. I should have heard it from you, not from CNN.”
“I admit, when you put it that way, I could probably have handled the reveal a bit better.”
“How do you think I feel, knowing Jim is out there putting his life on the line for you, only to hear he’s been seriously injured while I’m listening to the news over dinner?”
“Things have just been a little hectic around here since Steve decided to play Dirty Harry, okay? I swear, I was going to call you just as soon as—”
“As soon as what? I am his wife, Tony! I deserve—”
“[Name]?”
Both you and Tony looked toward the hall to see a familiar man creeping up it, his hands pressed against the white wall to help him stand.
“Jim!” you gasped at the exact same time that Tony said, “Rhodey?”
For one shining moment, you remained so stunned to see your husband again that you failed to notice anything different about him. All you could do was stare at him in happy wonder—until he reached the end of the wall and nearly tumbled to the floor without further support. He would have fallen, had Tony not been quick enough to see what was happening and leap to fill the place the wall once had.
“Thanks,” Jim said.
“Don’t mention it. What are you doing out of bed?”
The two of them made their slow, staggering way across the room. You watched with one hand over your mouth. Could this really be the same man that had stood at the end of the aisle at your wedding? He looked the same and sounded the same, but, oh, Jim. Thankfully, you noticed where the men were headed before you gave yourself over to more tears. Your purse was unceremoniously dumped to the floor just as Jim collapsed into it. A few seconds went by as he caught his breath.
“I thought I heard the two of you arguing,” he answered Tony at last.
“We weren't—” But the cutting look you shot Tony prevented him finishing his protest.
“Sure,” Jim said, then he looked at you. “When did you get here?”
“About fifteen minutes ago,” you replied.
“Well, it’s good to see you. I was beginning to wonder when Tony would allow me to have visitors.”
“He didn’t.”
Jim frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m only here because I found out what happened on the news. Tony has nothing to do with it.”
“Oh.Oh. I’m sorry, [Name]. I should have called you. Between the media blitz and all the physical therapy, it never even crossed my mind.”
You put your hand gingerly on his shoulder and were relieved that he didn’t collapse under the added weight. “It’s okay, Jim. I don’t blame you for my finding out this way.”
“It isn’t Tony’s fault.”
You snorted, causing Jim’s faint eyebrows to lift.
“It’s not.”
“Jim.” Now your hand moved to cup his cheek. “This happened because you were cleaning up one of Tony’s messes again.”
Admittedly, you didn’t have all the details lined up just yet. One never could trust the news to tell the whole or entire truth about something, but this fiasco smelled strongly of one of Tony’s harebrained world-protection schemes. His role in keeping Jim away from for months at a time was a well-worn subject of argument between you and your husband; bringing it up now when Jim was so weak wasn’t exactly fair. But you couldn’t stand seeing him like this, and the knowledge that Tony had something to do with his injuries again only aggravated you further.
“I swear, you got hurt less often back when you only worked for the Air Force,” you said throatily.
Jim pressed one of his hands over the one you had on his face, then waited to speak until you could control yourself enough to look him in the eye:
“[Name], you know I make my own decisions.”
“And those decisions change if you think Tony’s going to get himself killed,” you grumbled.
“And you know I’m willing to call Tony out when I think he’s being an idiot.”
“Which doesn’t matter when he doesn’t listen.”
“And you knew that when you and I got married, Tony was part of that package deal.”
Another glare in Tony’s direction met with an odd expression on his part. Before it had felt like he couldn’t look straight at you. Now it felt like he’d forgotten you were even there, so focused was he on Jim. Could that be guilt you read on Tony’s face? Surely not. You turned back to your husband with a sharp breath.
“At the time, I didn’t realize the deal would involve so much of you two flying around in metal suits.”
Jim let out a soft, low chuckle. His eyelids slid shut. When he dropped his arm to his side, you reluctantly pulled your hand away from him. Tony knelt beside him to put his hand on the shoulder you had so recently held.
“You had a rough morning. You should be in bed,” he said.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Jim tried to wave him off, but Tony stayed put.
“I mean it. You want to backslide? All that progress we made this morning? Gone, because your stubborn ass has to come running whenever I get in a fight.”
“You’re not in any condition to go toe to toe with [Name] right now.”
“When am I ever?”
The two of them grinned at each other in that infuriating way that only a couple of guys making a private joke could. Seeing as you were the butt of that private joke, you did not crack a smile. You allowed them to continue smiling, though, until their little “bromance” moment stretched on a little too long. Both men started when you cleared throat. Maybe they had forgotten you were still standing there with your arms crossed over your chest.
“And what, exactly, about this morning was so rough?” you asked frostily.
The look Jim and Tony exchanged that time was different—more raised eyebrows and frowning—but equally infuriating.
“What aren’t you telling me?” This question you directed at your husband. “I came out all this way to find out what’s been going on, so one of you had better spit it out.”
“Or what?” asked Tony.
“Tony, I think she’s serious,” Jim said.
“So am I. Is not knowing really grounds for a divorce? I’m just weighing our options here.”
With an aggrieved sigh, Jim shoved Tony out of his immediate personal bubble. Tony must not have wanted to keep their shared secret too badly, because he did nothing to prevent Jim from taking a deep breath and saying:
“Tony’s got me doing some…experimental physical therapy.”
Well,that wasn’t a comforting explanation. “So you’re a physical therapist now?” you asked.
“Among other things,” Tony said.
“Look.”
You could not ignore Jim’s soft request. Instead of firing back at Tony as you so badly wanted to, you returned your attention to your husband. He tapped at a glowing blue circle about halfway down his thigh. From that light sprouted a complicated system of pulleys and joints and even more lights that sprawled across Jim’s legs and hips. So eager had you been to see him alive and moving that you hadn’t even noticed this addition to his body.
“Tony made these for me,” he said. “Without them, I wouldn’t be able to walk at all.”
Your mouth opened. Your mouth closed. Again. Again. Again. Still unable to think of any way to express your thoughts on the matter, you raised your head to look at Tony. You were surprised to find his brown eyes shining when they met your gaze.
“We’re still working out the kinks. Rhodey is—” Tony coughed a few times, then went on, “Rhodey is amazing. He’s doing great. Really great. I’m just trying to get the braces up to his speed.”
“We’re both getting there. Together.”
Tony shook his head, unwilling to accept Jim’s encouragement. His eyes and yours were trained on each other like magnets. “You weren’t supposed to show up until he was perfect. That’s why I didn’t call. I wanted to give him back to you good as new.”
“Tony…” Jim began, but once more Tony waved him off.
“I owe you both at least that much.”
Neither you nor Tony seemed able to figure out what to say to each other after that. At least you finally managed to break eye contact. He looked back at Jim, tried to smile, failed, and awkwardly stuck his hands in the front pockets of his pants. You turned your head to blink rapidly at the wall, cleared your throat again, and tried not to cry. After struggling to find words to say to Tony for another minute or so, you gave up and went back to Jim instead.
“You really think this is what you need? Not rehab at an actual hospital?” you asked.
He didn’t miss a beat. “I trust Tony. This is what I want to do.”
Normally, Tony would have taken this compliment and rubbed it in your face until it ground to dust. That day he didn’t react at all. Didn’t blink. Didn’t grin. Didn’t so much as offer a single quip. He seemed to be waiting for you to make the next move. His behavior threw you off, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized just how little Tony was acting like himself at all. The whole catastrophe with Steve—and Jim’s injury—must have really rattled him.
Then it hit you: Jim wasn’t just staying here for his own sake; he could never be that selfish. Tony needed Jim just then just as badly as Jim needed Tony. You couldn’t tear him away.
“Fine,” you said.
“Fine?” Tony echoed.
“What’s fine?” Jim asked.
“You can stay. I won’t drag you off to the nearest VA like I was planning to.”
“You won’t?” A hopeful note crept into Tony’s voice.
“Really?” said Jim.
“Really,” you answered.
They both cheered. If you’d given them the time, you suspected they might have actually embraced. You did not give them the time, however. Tony could change his mind just as quickly as you, so you needed to get things arranged as soon as possible. Neither he nor Jim noticed you taking a step away from them, but they couldn’t fail to hear you say:
“Just let me go get my bags out of the car.”
You made a beeline for the door you’d come through before either of them could register what you said. Such ringing silence could not last. No sooner had you placed your hand on the door handle than did Tony shake off the lingering shock.
“Wait. No one said anything about you staying,” he said as he came after you. “No, no. This is a secure facility! I’m sure we can find you a nice hotel nearby if you really feel you need to—”
“Tony,” said Jim.
“She’s not an Avenger!”
“Yeah, and neither are we much these days.”
Then Jim tried to get to his feet. It looked more to you like he was having a seizure. His feet scuffed against the floor while his fingers grasped the edge of the chair he sat on. Very slowly and very arduously, he finally managed to stand. You held everything you had inside you very, very still to prevent yourself from running over to him and helping him over to Tony’s side. He got there all on his own several agonizing minutes later. There he clapped Tony on the shoulder and shot him a tired smile.
“Besides, you knew when [Name] and I got married, she’d always be part of the package deal,” he said.
Tony’s lips pursed together at that. They squirmed for a long time. At last, without bothering to so much as look in your direction, he said, “Fine. She can stay.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
“But you have to say in the wing where we house the orphaned SHIELD agents!” Tony’s call followed you out of the compound and back onto the lot where your rental car sat waiting.
“Tony—” Jim began in a warning tone.
The door shutting behind you prevented you from hearing the quarrel that surely followed. Those two were always like that, especially when it came to you. As you hefted your two suitcases from the car’s trunk, though, you found you didn’t care. You didn’t care about having to listen to Jim and Tony argue until they were blue in the faces or drunk. You didn’t care about the fights you and Tony would get into when he inevitably got bored and started picking on you. You didn’t even care that it looked as though you and your husband would not be returning to your home in California soon or ever at all.
No, all you felt in that moment was grateful. Tony Stark might have put a lot of stock into the work of his own hands, modern architecture, and flashy tech—but he put more stock into his friendship with you and with Jim.
Loki had always been a bit different–a bit more magic than muscle, a bit more tricky than truthful, a bit more bitter than sweet. But for all your years in his company, you never imagined you’d have to see his face through the wall of a prison cell.
“So they decided to send you to break me. I should have known,” Loki breathed, his grin as fragile as glass.
You weren’t sure how long he had known you were there. Perhaps the entire time, as silent as you had been trying to remain. As his green eyes caught the little light that filtered into his cell, you stepped forward.
“Break you?” you asked. “Why would they ask me to break you?”
“Oh, I think you know.”
You shook your head, your fingers fluttering out to brush against the surface of his cell wall. “What happened to you?”
“What happened to me? What happened to me? What happened to you?”
“Getting Thor exiled,” you said without answering him. “Trying to kill him and our friends. Destroying the Frost Giants. Murdering hundreds of innocent Midgardians.” You lifted your gaze to meet his. “You’ve changed.”
That got his ire. Loki strode forward. “I have not changed!” His shout was so loud that you stumbled backward. Though he couldn’t get himself any closer to you, Loki clenched his hands into fists and grimaced down at you. “I have simply learned what I truly am!”
“A Frost Giant?” you said calmly, getting to your feet and gathering your skirts around you along with your wits. “Thor told me. Loki, you cannot believe–”
“They told you!“ He barked out a wild laugh. “Of course they did! You’re Thor’s little lapdog now, aren’t you?”
“Loki, you are speaking madness. I would never–”
“Don’t deny it! You helped them. You helped them all. And you would send me back to exile as soon as you could to be rid of me. Just like my damned family!”
“What are you saying? Thor loves you! He–He adores you. And Odin–”
“All of it was lies, wasn’t it, [Name]?” His voice dropped to regular volume and his smile returned to something close to normal as he stepped backward and away from you. “The truth comes out. Everything we shared, it was all a lie so you could watch me, spy on me for my family.”
“What?” Hurt colored your tone.“ No. Loki–Loki, I–”
“Don’t say it.” He held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear that you love me. Not anymore. You lied to me, just like everyone else.”
You pressed a hand to your heart and moved forward again. “Loki–”
He whirled around. “Get out of my sight! I never want to see you again!”
A shaky breath escaped your lips, but:
“If that is what you wish, your Highness.”
All he did was watch you as you bowed and left the room.
