Project: A Stark Winter

Chapter Ten: Peace in the Chaos

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling of this small guest room pitifully questioning your existence. Super dramatic behavior for someone that had accepted death twenty four hours prior, amirite? Sleep had comforted you for most of the night, but as the sun had begun to rise the gentle rays fell harshly on your face dragging you from the depths of sleep. So here you are, sprawled out on the tiny twin-sized bed, wondering and waiting; your hands absentmindedly toying with the sewn edges of your thin comforter as your thoughts wandered. Having no real direction, you hadn't been able to get up for the day and face the rest of the unknown outside your bedroom door. Just beyond the thin frame, you heard the bustling of the morning as everyone in the tower went about their daily activities. You could barely make out mumbled conversations as they passed your door; debating on whether they should try and wake you or invite you to join them for breakfast. You were hyperaware that the awkwardness you felt at existing here was a shared feeling between you and the team. For Earth's mightiest heroes, they seemed just as unsure as you were. As the morning waned on, the voices down the hall had begun to dissipate until there was once again a resounding silence that fell on the tower. That was until a soft knock sounded at your door. The light tapping sound halted your mid-day dream as you bolt upright and stare in the direction that it came. Silently you try and will your mouth to speak; to call to the person on the other side. Your nerves, however, besting you as you can't bring yourself to formulate the words. Under the door frame, you see a pair of feet shuffle away probably thinking that you were still asleep. God, I'm so stupid. It shouldn't be this hard to say 'come in' you mentally scold yourself, not quite sure why simply talking to someone would have you reacting this way. Right as you had flopped yourself back onto the bed, a blur of a figure moves through the door and into the room. You scramble upright as Vision floats closer to you.
"Miss Stark, your presence is requested in Mr. Stark's Lab."
"Wha-what the hell!" You screech as he simultaneously speaks calmly. Your eyes grow wide as he merely regards you as if this entire interaction were normal and awaits your response. As you both simply stare at the other, Wanda gingerly opens your door and steps in. Her eyes dart between the both of you until they finally land on yours apologetically.
"Vision! I told you that floating into people's rooms like this is rude! That's why I knocked!" She scolds him with a frown creasing her face. Her hip juts out as she crosses her arms, but the smile never leaves her eyes.
"But she was not asleep as you had suspected. Mr. Stark needs her in the lab." Vision, still floating in the air gestures to where you sat hunched on your bed. He seemed completely unperturbed by this interaction and not fully grasping what Wanda was saying, causing her to sigh deeply and look at you with a sorry smile.
"Sorry for barging in like this. But...I can't promise it won't happen again."
"It's alright. Just caught me by surprise. Back home, Vision once pranked Sam by waiting in the fridge until he went to get his morning orange juice. I swear he almost fainted." You reminisced with a soft giggle. Wanda's smile broke into a full grin as she stepped forward and sat next to you on the bed. The movement felt so natural that you leaned in closer to her as she scooted to face you.
"No way! Steve is always telling Vis to respect people's boundaries. I can't imagine him actually prankish someone with his abilities." She giggles, placing her hands on her cheeks in disbelief.
"You'd be surprised. Bucky and Sam were always playing pranks on each other. Bucky asked Vision to help with this prank as a bit of payback and I have to say it was effective and probably one of the best." You grinned mischievously, laughing at Wanda's wide eyes and toothy grin.
"Could I...see?" She asked gently, raising her hand slowly and waiting for you to give the go-ahead. You simply nod as she places her right hand on your temple. You watch as her eyes droop shut and red mist floats around your head. She watches the memory of scaring Sam and burst out laughing as she sees Vision grinning from ear to ear inside the refrigerator. Soon your laugh joins her as you both bask in the memory that you shared. As your laughter dies down she takes your hand her own.
"Thank you for sharing with me."
"Anytime, Wanda."
She pulls you to your feet then and begins dragging you to the door before stopping abruptly.
"Did they bring you any clothes?" Wanda looks at you with a grimace knowing the answer before you even speak. Her eyes roam your disheveled appearance and sigh, not waiting for your answer.
"I'm assuming, from what I've seen, we shared clothes so you can borrow mine. Then we can get you whatever you want!" She starts down the hall quickly with Vision floating close on your heels. Once at her door, Wanda gives the stop gesture to Vision who nods briskly and stands guard dutifully at the door. She rolls her eyes with a smile and pulls you into the familiar space of her room. You smile as you take in the purple walls and arts decorations that mirrored those of the Wanda in your own universe.
"Here." She murmurs, handing you a pair of leggings and oversized sweatshirt. Before you let your logical mind win, you tug into a tight hug and just breathe her in. To your surprise, she instantly wraps her arms around you.
"Thanks, Wanda. Everything is so easy with you." Releasing her with one final squeeze you take the clothes and head for the bathroom to change. You freshen up for the day the best you can and remove the bandage from the back of your head satisfied with how it's healed. Emerging from the bathroom, you find Wanda waiting, a huge smile on her face and holding a hand out for you that you take confidently as she once again drags you behind her. This was the way it was. Wanda was such a bubbly, free spirit that you followed her as she led you on her adventures; happy to keep her company. If everything else was a mess, at least this was going okay.
"Now, we better get you to the lab before Tony starts thinking we kidnapped you." She teases with a wink over her shoulder as she leads you through the tower and into the elevator. She calls out to Friday and the elevator begins to lower a few floors to where Tony's lab was. You bounce in your feet nervously with each passing floor, not sure why Tony wanted to see you.
"We'll leave you to it." Wanda whispers with a smile, breaking the silence as she nudges you toward the elevator doors. You take a deep breath and summon the courage to face whatever awaits you in the lab. Stepping out as the doors slide open you're instantly hit with a sense of nostalgia. Every bit of this space you recognized and felt like walking into a warm embrace. There were dozens of workbenches, each crowded with half-built inventions or scrap parts. Blueprints float in the air around the tables, bots move autonomously, and the familiar rock music of AC/DC's Money Talks filled the lab. In the center of it all, clad in a vintage band tee, stood Tony Stark. He called out orders to the A.I. who promptly pulled up various diagrams for him to sift through. As you approach, Friday announces your entrance with little flourish.
"Miss Stark, sir." The A.I. chirps as you round a workbench and step before Tony. He smiles at you warmly and sweeps an arm to a rolling chair at his side, encouraging you to take a seat.
"Hey, kiddo. How are you finding Casa Stark?" He inquires with earnest eyes that search your face thoroughly, hoping to glean some insight into how you are feeling. You pull the chair up to the bench that Tony is working at and flop down, taking a seat. Resting your arms on the surface of the table you peer up at him with a shy smile.
"It's good. Thank you for letting me stay here." You murmur softly, still feeling the nerves that are settled in your chest flutter. For a moment Tony says nothing. He simply looks at you, pity and sadness swirling in his deep, brown eyes. You can tell there's an inner war raging in his heart, not quite sure what to do but wanting so desperately to help. The bond you had with your father was one in a million. He and you had so many memories, inside jokes, and shared experiences that shaped you into who you are today. There were bits and pieces of the man who stood before you scattered through your features and you can imagine how difficult it must be to try and reconcile your life twenty four hours ago to this moment in a way that makes sense. Breaking the silence, he raps his knuckles on the tabletop and clears his throat.
"So! I've been thinking, a dangerous thing to do, I know, but since you're gonna be here for the foreseeable future we should find something for you to do, right?" He speaks quickly as he rattles off the preamble to his brewing plan, eyes twinkling with ideas. Like father, like daughter.You nod at him and give him a thin-lipped smile as you gesture for him to continue. Without missing a beat, he continues speaking confidently as he pulls up the files Friday had pulled for him in the air around you.
"Based on what you've told us and what Wanda was able to help us piece together, you have the book smarts and experience to fit in just about anywhere with us."
"I'm sensing a but..." You groan as you flop your head down onto the table awaiting his next point. Tony pulls up the final file and moves it closer for you to inspect. Timidly you peer out from under your arms and in doing so, you see a photo of you side by side with a blank information log and red bold letters that read NOT FOUND. Sighing loudly you rub your temple and shoot pleading eyes in Tony's direction.
"The problem is that you don't exist." He grumbles flatly, as he plops down into another chair across from you and leans back to survey the files, arms crossed while one hand strokes his goatee.
"Yeah, we knew that. But what does that mean, exactly?"
"Well, easy answer? You not existing means no paperwork. No paperwork means no identity. I could give you a role here with us, but basically, the world is going to have some questions. It's not like you dropped into the most inconspicuous of places, kiddo."
"Honestly? I hadn't even thought that far ahead..."
"That's why they pay me the big bucks."
"Ah, so I'm assuming you already have a plan then?"
"Right you are, y/n!" He stands then, kicking his rolling chair to the side and pulling out a stack of documents from an accordion folder on the workbench. He lays them out in front of you then steps back and crosses his arms, nodding at you to look through them. Cautiously you open the folder to find all the essential identifying files that anyone would need. Sifting through it all, you see a passport, a driver's license, and years of backdated tax forms to prove employment. You continue to quickly flip through all the documents until your hands stop on the most important document of them all. A birth certificate. On it was written the details of your birth date and signed by Tony Stark as your father. Eyes welling with tears you bring them to meet Tony's who smiles at you fondly.
"Tony...I..." You stutter, trying to find the words to express your gratitude. The words get caught in your throat.
"This is your home now and you are my family." He says firmly.
"You could've said I was a niece. Or-or other relative."
"It seemed like the most logical explanation and since we do share DNA...no one would be able to question who you are." He shuffled on his feet and shoved his hands in his jean pockets as he looks at you sheepishly. This gesture alone was more than you could ever ask for and your mind struggled to piece it together.
"But...why? You didn't have to do this for me."
"Come on, don't you know me better than that? I might not've watched you grow up and sure I don't know you super well, but when I saw that confirmation that you were my daughter I...I felt...happy. I wanna get to know you if you'll let me, and I felt that this was the best way to protect you." At a loss for words, you simply stand and rush to Tony, giving him a tight hug. He stiffened in shock at first, but slowly relaxed into your hold; raising a calloused hand to caress the back of your head.
"You're welcome, kiddo." He whispered so quietly, his voice quivered as he spoke. Pulling you away slightly, he held you by the shoulders at an arm's length.
"Now. Since you're a little smarty pants M.I.T grad like your old man, let's see what you can do." He gives your shoulders a final squeeze as he moves back to the project he had been working on when you entered. Tony launches into a short explanation as he tosses you a wrench and begins tinkering as he speaks.
"I'm trying to recalibrate this next suit. I incorporated nano-tech into each of them, but Friday is having a hard time connecting to the software."
"Are these the energy panels on the back?" You asked inquisitively, getting to work moving the suit on the table to find the source of the issue.
"Yeah, I added six absorbing panels for this model. I wanted to increase the repulsor output, but it seems to have overworked the internal systems." Taking a small screwdriver, you pop open a hidden control panel and begin tinkering with the fuses. You move different wires around and connect a circuit tester to the output dock to check on its stats.
"If they are drawing too much power, it'll redirect the additional power supply to the Nanite Manipulator and Unibeam. Nanoparticles are lighter and easier to move around but it takes more power from the arc reactor so Friday isn't powered enough to connect." Finishing with the diagnostics sequence, you redirect the last few wires and start the program for Friday to reconnect to the suit. On cue, the helmet lights up and Friday confirms the pairing. Tony watches you work, not bothering to hide how impressed he was by your knowledge and the ease at which you worked on his Iron Man suit. Closing up the hidden panel you turn to him and lazily gesture at what you'd done, beaming at the feeling of being useful and realizing how much you had missed being able to work alongside your dad.
"Guess that college education paid for itself, huh?"Tony chuckles as he rubs his temple in awe of you fixing his suit.
"I actually learned from the best." You tease, as you begin to put away the many tools that litter the workbench. A clearing throat draws both your and Tony's attention to the lab doors as Bruce Banner nervously interrupts your moment. He looks at you briefly and settles a quizzical look on Tony who merely shrugs.
"Okie doke, y/n. Why don't you go muscle up some lunch and then we can talk more about what it is you want to do later?" He smiles as he speaks but there's an underlining tension to his words that you can't quite decipher. Having no real reason to stay, you give a curt smile and make your way to the elevator, stopping momentarily to say 'hi' to Bruce who just acknowledges you with a tight smile and stares back at Tony. As you step into the elevator you ask Friday to take you to your floor. As the doors shut and the elevator glides up to its destination, you feel a sense of calm blanket you. Smiling to yourself, you allow your mind to feel hopeful at the new possibilities and the opportunity for a fresh start. Suddenly the elevator slows until it stops completely on a floor that you had not asked Friday to stop at. The doors slide open to reveal a sweat-soaked Bucky Barnes looking thoroughly exhausted. You realize that this floor was the training area of the tower and assume that Bucky had just gotten done with his usual grueling workout regime. Bucky and you had only trained together on occasion, each time you would walk away with sore muscles and a body covered in bruises, scrapes, and scratches. Steve had asked each time why Bucky had been so hard on you during training and each time he'd just grunt a reply about 'being ready'. At the time you had chalked it up to his disdain for you but realized it was only ever about teaching you how to protect yourself. Being Tony's daughter, very few people trained with you. Those that dared take you on in the mat would pull punches and always allow you the win. No one wanted to have to explain to Tony Stark why his only daughter had a bloody lip or black eye. Sparring with Bucky, though, was anything but gentle. Despite his large and lean frame, Bucky moved with ease and grace. Just as you figured out his movements, he would change up his attack and have you flailing to the mat faster than you could blink.
"Come on, sweetheart. You have to be faster than that." Bucky had scolded you one day as he threw you into your back. Your legs kicked out and wrapped around his ankles, but again, he was faster. He fell on his knees with both straddling your hips as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head.
"But Bucky, I like to go slow when I'm on my back like this." You tease, trying to distract him as you attempt to pull and arm or leg free. He just laughs as he passes both wrists into one hand and moves his free hand to rest on your neck. His fingers find your airway and squeeze slightly; gently cutting off your air supply which stops your movements beneath him.
"You and I both know that going slow is agonizing for you, sweetheart." You let out a muffled moan as Bucky lowers his hips between yours making him move against your core ever so slightly.
"Faster, Steve. Harder, Steve. More, Steve." Bucky repeats your words back to you with a teasing, knowing smile on his face. You smile back, cheeks warm and blushing when you get an idea. Swallowing against his hand you moan.
"Harder, Bucky. More, Bucky." You beg him; doe eyes locked on his blown out blue eyes. He releases you and  sits back on his heels stunned for a moment; confused. You take full advantage when you leap at him. It knocks him back as you both tumble together trying to gain the upper hand. Unfortunately for Bucky, he was too distracted to refocus. You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind in a sleeper hold and lean closer. When a baritone voice echos through the room.
"You're losing your touch, punk. You shouldn't be so easily distracted." You both look up to see a smirking Steve.
"Yeah, well she fights dirty." Bucky scoffs, shoving you off him roughly, causing you to snort.
"You're the one quoting me and Steve having sex. That's creep behavior."
"The walls are thin and you are loud as fuck." Bucky yells in exasperation while pointing to you as he stomps over to his gym bag and gets a drink of water and tosses you one as well. Steve laughs loudly as he wraps an arm around your waist as you drink.
"I can't help pleasuring my girl. She's insatiable."
"Says the one hundred and five year old virgin."  Bucky snarks back as you choke on your water and join the three of them in a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
Smiling fondly at the memory, Bucky just stares at you in confusion before shaking his head and trudging into the small space with you. The elevator doors slide closed and once again you begin to rise. You both silently stand by one another; you curious as to what this version of Bucky was like and him seemingly disinterested in anything pertaining to you. Trying to sneak peeks from beneath hooded eyes, you watch as his large hands rake through his hair until they fall limply at his sides. His flesh and metal arm are exposed handsomely in his grey fitted t-shirt and you can't help but steal glances at the rippling veins that shift and pull under the skin of his flesh hand. Trailing your eyes fully over his frame you take in his defined abs, emphasized by the sweat-slick shirt sticking to his skin.
"Stop." His gruff voice commands you in annoyance. He fixes you with a stern look and promptly rolls his eyes and averts his gaze; the embarrassment of this situation practically palpable in the air between you. You suck in a breath of embarrassment at being caught gawking at his body and instantly turn several shades of red and pink.
"Uh, sorry!" You squeak pitifully, voice catching in your throat as you speak. Mentally you facepalm as you turn your heated face back toward the doors of the elevator just in time for them to slide open revealing the kitchen; your escape. You all but sprint out of the elevator, feet carrying you as quickly as they can, and round the corner toward your room. Lightly shutting the door, you slump back against it and let out a muffled groan as you bury your face in your hands. Bucky might've been annoyed and indifferent to you before, but now you knew he didn't like you and more than that probably felt creeped out by your leering eyes. Sighing breathily, you move to your small desk and notice a small, blue notebook. The stiff leather binding shone in the midmorning sunlight as your fingertips gently trace the cover. As you open it to the first page, your eyes widen in happy surprise at a charcoal sketch of you smiling and looking out the window of the guest room. A small moment in time is captured perfectly in a detailed drawing. On the inner cover of the notebook, written in neat handwriting was a note.

Y/n,

When I first came to the team, drawing helped me find some peace in the chaos and reminded me a bit of where I came from. I hope you can

Steve R.

Sliding down into your desk chair, a grin spreads across your face like wildfire. It was such a sweet gesture and reminds you that Steve truly understands what you're going through. The world around you was so very similar to yours, but no matter what you could do it would still always be different. There was no going back, only forward. Grabbing a pen from the desk drawer you began scrawling your feelings onto paper. You wrote your fears and anxieties and then wrote your new hopes and dreams.

                       ◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

As you had left the lab, Tony's hopeful grin followed you until the elevator doors closed when it instantly fell like the pit in his stomach. Turning to Bruce he motions for him to get on with whatever bad news he bore. Bruce teetered on the balls of his feet, unsure of where to start.
"Uh...so...the labs we ran when y/n...came to us?.."Bruce mumbled, unable to bring his eyes to meet Tony's.
"Yes, the labs. I told you to run them again. There's no way someone could survive with the levels of radiation and celestial who-knows-what coursing through their body and-"
"Exactly, Tony. But my results aren't wrong. I've run the sequences over and over again hundreds of times and it all comes back the same." Bruce states firmly as he hands a manila folder to Tony who takes it begrudgingly. Tony opens it to see that Bruce was in fact correct and no matter how they looked at it, the levels were off the charts. Running a hand roughly over his features, Tony tosses the folder onto the workbench and goes to pour himself a full glass of whiskey from the hidden liquor cabinet. He leans heavily against an empty workbench as he downs the drink quickly.
"Alright, what do we do? What's the plan?" He questions Bruce who merely shrugs and sadly glances at the man before him.
"What can we do, Tony? The amount of energy she absorbed when crossing from one universe to another practically poisoned her. I-I don't even know where to begin. It's not like they're handing out degrees on multiversal radiation."
"So we let her, what, die?" Tony spits, furiously as he takes a step toward Bruce pointing a finger at his chest. Bruce softens as he sees the hurt smeared across his friend's face and decides to back down.
"No, Tony. Of course not. I'm working on it, but I just want you to be prepared for the reality of her situation...it's hard to fix something when we don't even know what it is exactly." This seems to calm Tony for the moment as he steps back and crosses his arms. He nods his agreement with Bruce and leans back against the workbench.
"Do we tell her?" Tony questions quietly, looking to Bruce to confirm the answer he already knew.
"No." Bruce replies flatly, "She appears to be healthy and functioning normally. If things change, we can reevaluate. But for now...there's no need to worry her more than she already is." Taking a deep breath, Tony pushes off the workbench. He takes the folder and, after punching in a code to a large safe, places it there for safekeeping. He closes the safe door resolutely and strides past Bruce, stopping momentarily to place a hand firmly on his friend's shoulder.
"Let's get some grub. I'm feeling shawarma!" And just like that, Tony's usually upbeat and snarky self is back. Bruce shakes his head and follows Tony toward the elevator.