 |
SAMPLE #3
"I like her." Friday chirps and a pink-wire hologram of a woman appears just after her comment is released, she falls in step with Tony and they walk, in unison, to Tony's study.
"Yeah, I like her too." Stark admits as he pulls his chair out and lets himself fall down into it. With his head rolled back and eyes closed, he lets out a very loose breath. Honestly, he wasn't sure how long he'd been on his feet. The last few were a blur of Accord sanctioned missions and while he still believed he was right; that he was doing what he was supposed to do-- he was thankful for his day off. Not only because he was able to stop, rest his body, but because he was finally able to seek out a woman he'd grown fairly obsessed with. "She's an alcoholic though -- with PTSD." Jessica Jones. He'd arrived, unannounced, at her door step swearing up and down that he was there only to warn her that she'd gained numerous government tails since snapping Kilgrave's neck. That wasn't entirely true. The world needed a new team. Someone to step into the spotlight The Avengers tainted with their mistakes, it was the only way the public would begin trusting and believing in them again. It was necessary for the future, for the war he could physically feel growing closer and closer with every day that passed -- and, honestly, it was necessary for the advanced people themselves. Right now, the majority of the world was terrified of them and, honestly, Tony couldn't blame them after just how childish and entitled The Avengers had acted -- himself included more often than not. If he was able to get someone -- or, better yet, a group of someones out there, saving people, standing up for truth, justice and all the things Captain America was meant to -- then he knew he could turn the tide.
There would always be people that feared what was bigger and stronger than they were. There would always be rallies and extremists that would work endlessly with hope they could one day wipe out all "advanced" humans.
He understood that but -- this couldn't be how the Superhero Era ended.
"Yeah, wouldn't want two superheroes with an alcoho--"
"I'm working on it." Tony cuts his AI off, eyes opening to find her where she had settled at the edge of his desk. Her legs were crossed and her hands already working over the screen of his computer, pulling up a list of other potential "superheroes" she'd found for him to look into, "Speaking of, I think I should probably go to a meeting tonight."
"Because it's Mother's Day?" Friday questions without glancing back at him.
His face fell immediately. He'd been going at it none-stop for so long --- how was it possible he was already in May? "That explains all the flowers and..." Stark pauses, "Did you?--?"
"Yes, I sent her the roses."
"Thank you." More than once, especially after everything that happened at the bunker, Tony considered going to see them himself. He bought the flowers, even drove himself all the way to the cemetery once. In his head he'd been ready, working over all the points he wanted to say-- all the things he needed them to hear, whether or not he believed they would from beyond the grave. He parked though, their plots in view... And, he just couldn't push himself to get out of the car. It was hard to say how long he'd been sitting there. He just watched the stones -- for hours, eyes focused on every shift in light as the sun moved through the sky and fell away. The Invincible Iron Man -- The Merchant of Death--- The Great Tony Stark, terrified stiff by a couple of gravestones and the absolute silence that sunk in around them. He knew what his Father would have said. After he was finished reprimanding him for even hoping he could have embraced some kind of solace in something as meaningless as a couple of buried, rotted corpses.
Howard would have been disappointed -- and frustrated by his Son's weakness.
"There is a group of --"
Ringgggggg.
"What the hell is that?" Though it was obviously a phone, Tony jumps up, alert -- hands closed into tight fists. His phones didn't ring. Friday screened and usually answered them. It takes him a moment to realize the sound was coming from the back -- and what was making it. Steve's phone. There's no thought -- the instant he realizes what was making that noise, he all but trips over himself to get to it. It was in approaching the device, it's illuminated screen -- and the shield accompanying it, that Tony felt himself hesitate.
Ringgggggg.
He just stares down at it, hand frozen where it hovered just an inch from it's plastic shell. He could text back, offer to wire him some money -- a new identity, something that would help but keep himself from actually speaking to his former idol.
Ringgggggg.
The phone's scooped up, flipped open and brought to his ear. He opens his mouth to speak but can't find it in him to say anything. Fortunately, Steve seems to know he's there, so, he starts in. Though this wasn't something he expected would ever come to pass. Honestly, he thought he'd live out the rest of his life without ever hearing -- or seeing Steve again and he was alrightwith that. Still, he expected more from the very first words he heard. There was a situation. He needed help. That was it. He wants to laugh, wants to let all the bitterness he'd been harboring since he picked himself up off the ground and watched the Avengejet Steve stole from him disappear into the distance. He wants to hang up, tell him to turn to his team -- the people that turned their back on him and left him alone to clean up.
Somehow, "Where do you want me to meet you?" is what makes it through his lips.
|