Ironman 3 (Charlotte Stark)

Ch. 16 Make Us Proud

A few days later, Tony and I find ourselves in the hospital, next to an awake Happy. I place my hand on his and give him a smile and then a hug. He winces at the pain, but he doesn't care. He's just happy to be okay and to know that Tony and I are okay.

A few days after that, I find myself back in Rose Hills, Tennessee. Setting up a barn full of tech and gadgets that were a dream come true for a young boy. He walks in as I finished setting everything up. He glances around the room and with a big smile on his face, runs up to me and gives me a hug.

"Thank you, Miss Stark."

"Please, Harley. I think after everything we've been through, you've earned the right to call me by my first name." I tell him, wrapping my arms around him too.

"Right, sorry Charlotte."

"Don't apologize. Just promise me, you'll use the tech for good. Make us proud." He nods his head and I leave him to it.

I get back to the Avengers Tower and Tony and I are laying on a couch, talking with Bruce.

"You know, and thank you by the way. For listening. Plus, something about just getting it off my chest, and putting it out there in the atmosphere, instead of holding this in... I mean, this is what gets people sick, you know." Tony says, looking up to the ceiling.

"Wow, I had no idea you were such a good listener. To be able to share all our intimate thoughts and experiences with someone, it just cuts the weight of it in half." I add, also staring off into space. "You know, it's like a snake swallowing its own tail. Everything comes full circle." I hear Bruce gasp and I look over at him. "And the fact that you've been able to help us process..." he clears his throat. "Are you with me?"

"Sorry... I was, yeah. We were at, uh..." Bruce stutters.

"Are you actively napping?" Tony asks, annoyed.

"I was... I... I drifted."

"Where did I lose you?" Tony asks.

"Elevator in Switzerland." I roll my eyes at Bruce's words.

"So, you heard none of it." I say.

"I'm sorry. I'm not that kind of doctor. I'm not a therapist. It's not my training."

"So?" I question.

"I don't have the..."

"What? The time?" I ask.

"Temperament." He answers. I smile a little.

"You know what? Now that I think about it... Oh! God, my original wound. 1983, all right? I'm 14 years old, I still have a nanny. That was weird." Tony goes on again and I roll my eyes and start to drift off to sleep myself.