chapter ix.
(   age of ultron   )

sometimes i get tired of pins and needles
facades are a fire on the skin
oh, i'm growing fond of broken people
as i see i am one of them
pins & needles ─── mutemath

barton farm, undisclosed location
may 4, 2015

The wind dusts my hair into my face as I sit in the damp grass with my legs sprawled out in front of me. My head still tiredly aches and my back is still sore so I am considering making this my new lifelong position. Somehow I don't believe people are going to be okay with that. Still, I'm not doing much of anything but staring off into space and listening to people talk. And that certainly sounds relaxing, but 'sounds' is as far as that goes. This is anything but relaxing as I stare past the two arguing men standing a few feet away from me, axing through a stack of wood.

Dad snaps the axe down and then moves for a new hunk of wood, asking, "Thor didn't say where he was going for answers?"

"Sometimes my teammates don't tell me things," Steve says pointedly, glancing around to where Clint still works with Cooper.

Well, apparently my favorite supersoldier is feeling a little passive aggressive today, isn't he?

I blink slowly, glancing between the two with an unimpressed expression.

"I was kinda hoping Thor would be the exception," Steve continues with a frown, moving for a new piece of wood.

"Yeah, give him time," Dad reaches out a hand and I tiredly pass him another log while he goes on vouching for the absent thunder god, "We don't know what the Maximoff kid showed him."

I let out a quiet puff of air as my hands settle back onto the ground on either side of me.

Wanda.

Boy, do I have some words for her when, or if, we meet each other again.

"'Earth's mightiest heroes'," Steve scoffs at our title, shaking his head in disbelief, "Pulled us apart like cotton candy."

"Seems like you walked away all right," Dad comments back, squinting at him as he holds the axe across his chest.

I look up from my most recent view of the green grass to study the supersoldier. For the most part, he does look alright all things considering. He's not staring off into space and he's not feeling massive amounts of guilt because of something he did when the Scarlet Witch, as I've now dubbed her, had control of his mind. But I would have be naive to say that Steve wasn't in the least bit affected by what he saw. And Dad should know that.

Steve seems a little on edge as he pulls up into a more straight position, squinting at my dad in the sunlight, "Is that a problem?"

"I don't trust a guy without a dark side," Dad's head twitches to the side before he brings down the axe once more.

I frown a little at them, crooking an eyebrow as caution comes over me. It's nearly as if they're having a little bit of a different conversation than the obvious at the moment. I don't understand. Why is there suddenly this underlying tone of hostility between them?

Dad shrugs as his lips turn into something close to a smirk, although there is a hint of insult in his eyes, "Call me old-fashioned."

And then there is near threat in Steve's when he replies with, "Well, let's just say you haven't seen it yet."

My eyes dart to Steve's face and I grit my teeth, feeling a strange worriedness settle over me.

Dad steps closer to him, breathing heavily, "You know Ultron is trying to tear us apart, right?"

"Well, I guess you'd know," Steve shoots back, shrugging as he moves to chop another log, "Whether you'd tell us is a bit of a question."

My lips purse and I blink off to the side in small concession.

Dad immediately speaks up, his tone defensive and sharp, "Banner and I were doing research."

"That would affect the team!" Steve glares up at him.

"That would end the team! Isn't that the mission?" Dad cuts in, his eyes getting that desperate look again and his voice growing stronger and angrier with each word, "Isn't that the 'Why We Fight'?! So we can end the fight?! So we get to go home?!"

Steve suddenly tears the log he's holding in two and the thing comes apart like paper, sending splinters off around him.

He turns to Dad with a scowl of his own, taking a few steps forward as well. I quickly scramble to push myself to my feet, somehow feeling that lingering concern for the two of them. I end up standing in the middle of Steve and my father, still close but just not enough to actually touch either of them. My expression is hard and forceful, and I feel nearly prepared for a fight between the two... which is ridiculous.

"Every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die," the supersoldier watches my father with narrowed eyes as he once again enunciates, "Every time."

"I'm sorry," a voice makes us all turn around to see Laura who cringes a little as she thankfully interrupts, "Mr. Stark?"

The anger from the argument only a few seconds before dissipates as we all look away from the woman. Dad watches Steve for a beat longer with a sad expression before his eyes flicker off to the side, mirroring an expression I have seen only a few times before. It's one of shame, disappointment, loneliness, and regret. What's perhaps the saddest thing is that the time I most remember this expression from is when Howard was still alive. Steve always looks at Dad, trying to see Howard, and Dad always looks at Steve as the man Howard always wanted him to be. And I've seen that very same look myself only a few days ago when I refused to back him up on this, and it breaks my heart.

As we continue to stand there, I feel my shoulders droop and my body deflates a little, feeling rather guilty for thinking it was necessary to be prepared for a fight. Dad still doesn't quite look at Laura, it's as if he can't quite face anyone as Steve's words remain in his his ears. My eyes continue to watch him as the sadness threatens to overwhelm me. He's hurting again. I hate it when he's hurting. I always feel so helpless. When I finally drag my gaze from him, I give Laura a forced smile in his place, politely nodding for her to continue.

"Clint said you wouldn't mind," she gives a little laugh as she points her thumb and glances back over her shoulder, "but our tractor doesn't seem to want to start at all. I thought maybe you might..."

"Yeah, I'll give her a kick," he interrupts, giving a quick nod before sending a glance that doesn't quite reach me, "Lees? Join me?"

It isn't a question so I don't bother arguing. With a grunt, I push myself up and limp over to where he waits in his jeans and flannel, which is definitely an interesting combination for him. As we turn to walk away, he looks over his shoulder and points at the small pile of wood that he's chopped up.

"Don't take from my pile."

I roll my eyes, but a dumb smirk still comes over my features.

As we walk down the gravelly dirt path towards the barn, I wince and push a hand into my sore ribs, "God, what happened?!" I glance over at him thoughtfully, "Where did you find me after the whole mess with Bruce?"

He glances over at me with raised eyebrows, though his eyes still look heavy and distracted, "Wandering around the shipyard with this dazed look on your face. Apparently, you had fallen down a staircase to get out there though."

"Well, that would explain a few things," I bob my head to the side, making a face before I wait for him to swing the barn door open.

We both peer around the place as our feet crunch across the hay-covered floor. It's wide and spacious, full of old equipment and machines that I guess anybody would use for a farm. White light pours in through the high windows as an American flag hangs from one of the wood board walls. An old target board sits off to the side and I shake my head at it with a tired smile. Typical Clint. I force myself to jog after Dad who is a little ahead of me now.

"Hello, Deere."

I glance over my shoulder to see Dad walking up to the John Deere tractor, touching it and glancing it over.

"Tell me everything," he continues on dramatically, making me laugh quietly, "What ails you?"

"Do me a favor."

Dad pulls back from the tractor, pressing his lips down against each other as his hand swings to his side. My body freezes and, as my eyes widen, I slowly turn to follow the voice that emanates from the shadows on the other side of the barn.

Nick Fury, wearing a beanie and his usual eyepatch, walks out of the shadows with a rather unimpressed expression on his face, "Try not to bring it to life."

"Oh my good Lord," I scoff in aggravation, slapping my palm to my forehead.

Furry, you dirty rotten scoundrel.

Dad drops his hand to his side, pursing his lips in the direction of the barn door, "Why, Ms. Barton, you little minx. I get it, Maria Hill called you, right?" he whips his head back around, squinting at the man as he tries to change the subject, "Was she ever not working for you?"

I'm not even sure why we're surprised. After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, Maria came on over to us at Stark Industries and, wow, Fury just totally planted her there so she could keep an eye on us. That's just horrible. I mean, it's smart and kind of nice that he was trying look out for us, but also horrible. And backstabbing! Everyone thought he was dead! The ex-director didn't even tell us, and I thought we were friends!

"Were you ever going to tell us that you were alive or were we all just to live on, cherishing your memory?" I irritatedly jut my chin out as I follow after Dad.

Fury ignores us both, shaking his head in serious as he stalks closer, "Artificial intelligence."

Dad's pace slows a little.

His voice holds a small unenthused laugh, "You never even hesitated."

I bob my head back and forth before rolling my eyes and dropping my tired face in my hand. He really didn't. I mean, we literally got back to the Tower after the raid and he got working on the scepter that night. They worked for three days straight on this stinkin' system! I actually asked him what he was doing and he lied to me. And look where we are, hiding away on some random farm because the entire world wants our heads on stakes while Ultron is out there, doing God knows what.

Oh, this is such a mess.

"Look," Dad steps up in front of where the man sits and bounces his eyebrows, talking with firm defensiveness still in his tone, "It's been a really long day, like Eugene O'Neill long," I roll my eyes at Dad's reference of the play, "so how's about we skip to the part where you're useful."

Fury stares at him with a firm expression, "Look me in the eye and tell me you're going to shut him down."

My eyes widen a little as I look from Fury and back over at Dad. Fury doubts he would do that? Please, Dad wouldn't not shut Ultron down. Not at this point. Not after everything that's happened. He's learned from that, come on... hasn't he?

Dad gives his head a curt shake, not taking his eyes off of the man in defiance, "You're not the director of me."

"I'm not the director of anybody. I'm just an old man," Fury sits down across from us, eyeing my father sadly, "who cares very much about you."

Dad stares at him until he can't anymore, looking off to the side as those words say something that no one else has ever told him.

"And I'm the man who killed the Avengers," Dad suddenly looks back at him, taking in a quiet and sharp breath.

Fury blinks at him as confusion slightly bends his brow.

The vision.

God, I knew that was going to change things for him.

My eyes flicker from him down to the hay-covered ground, my heart aching for him. His voice is so broken and helpless; those are two things no one ever wants to hear from their father.

"I saw it. I didn't tell the team. How could I?" he asks quietly as he leans forward, pushing out a hand in question, "I saw them all dead, Nick. I felt it. The whole world, too," his feet begin leading him back as he motions to his chest and shoves his hands in his pockets, "Because of me."

"Dad," I say in a soft and scolding tone, not wanting him to take the blame for something that hasn't even happened.

"I wasn't ready," he goes on, shaking his head, "I didn't do all I could."

Dad takes in a quick breath as he steps around me, shaking his head as he tries to not show the pain that he always hides.

"Maximoff girl, she's working you, Stark," Fury determines, trying to encourage him, "Playing on your fear."

"I wasn't tricked," Dad turns back around as his shoulders raise, dipping his chin down, "I was shown. Wasn't a nightmare, it was my legacy,"

His legacy. It's always about his legacy, even from the very beginning.

"The end of the path I started us on."

We meet eyes for a brief moment and he just shakes his head as I give him a sad smile. We share a thousand words without having to say a single one. He's tired. He's so tired of seeing people die, of people blaming him, of losing people, of not being enough. He can't do this anymore. When the end comes, he's scared all that he's going to have left is regret. And I don't want that for him.

"You come up with some pretty impressive inventions, Tony," Fury pushes himself to his feet, walking over to me.

"War isn't one of them, Dad," I pipe up quietly, standing by Fury as we stare at my father who stands on the other side of the tractor.

Dad doesn't look at us, keeping his eyes down as he twists a towel around a tool he's found lying around.

"I watched my friends and my daughter die," his face contorts as he goes on, "You'd think that'd be as bad as it gets, right?" he glances at us and then gives a sardonic, bitter scoff, "Nope... It wasn't the worst part."

My chin tilts to the side in confusion, but I don't speak, not feeling as if I have a place in this moment. Dad needs encouragement from a father figure, not from his daughter. He needs someone to guide him; he's never had that before and I swear I think that left him with damage down to his core. He just needs someone who is willing to give half a crap about him and Howard wasn't willing to do that. Fury, whether he be kind of frightening or harsh, is. And I am too, but I still can't make it better.

As much as we love each other, I can't fix his problems or make him feel better. And as much as I acknowledge that fact, it still makes me angry. I am always such a spare part, another cog in this huge machine that just makes his life more difficult. He always tries his hardest to make whatever situation that is bothering or scaring me better. He's done it for as long as I have known him, ever since I was a little two year old in a hospital bed to the times when I had belly aches and he'd let me stay with him all day in bed. But this... this is nothing I can fix for him.

"The worst part," Fury seems to understand, finishing my father's thoughts, "is that you didn't."

Being left all alone. He's scared of being left alone, of dying alone.

Just like me.

"You left me."

Back in reality, Dad suddenly looks up at him with silent and painful agreement etched on his bruised features.

Dusk comes and it takes us back inside the farmhouse, leaving me upstairs in one of the bedrooms. I do my best to clean myself up from all of the left over dirt and oil before we all reconvene or whatever downstairs. Now that Nick's around, I am hoping things are going to get better. If anyone is to have a plan after this hit, it's going to be the ex-director of S.H.I.E.L.D. A knock on the wooden door pulls me from my thoughts, startling me a little.

"Oh, yeah?" I rub the towel against my dripping hair as I glance over my shoulder to see Dad awkwardly poke his head in through the doorway.

"Uh, hey," he waves his fingers a little, "Can I come in?"

"Sure," I press a smile as I continue drying my hair, "Is everybody finishing dinner?"

"Yeah."

I nod without speaking, glancing uncomfortably down at my barefeet. Things aren't the same between us since the vision. I don't know if they will be again. Pepper would say that things such as these are going to take time. Nightmares take time to heal from, just as bruises and cuts do. But Pepper's not here. It's just me and I'm scared nothing is going to be the same again.

"I know it had to be hard," Dad suddenly speaks up, leaning his back to the door as his face is twisted into dark thought.

"What?" I raise an eyebrow even though I don't quite look at him.

"Growing up with me as your dad," my hands still in my hair as he forces his shoulders into a shrug, "I know I'm not the easiest person to, you know..."

"Okay," I slowly turn to look back at him, tilting my chin out to the side, "What are you talking about?"

He gives me a look and that same sad fear lingers in his brown eyes, "I don't know how all of this is gonna end, Lees. And I just wanted to, I don't know," he shrugs again, "say what needs to be said."

My shoulders drop and my chest tightens a little, "Are you scared we're going to die, Dad?"

He blinks, letting out a breath as he motions his hand, "Just a precaution."

A precaution? A precaution for death?

"Um, wow. Yeah, okay," I nod a little, sitting down onto the edge of the bed as I prepare myself for whatever it is that he needs to get out, "Uh, shoot... I guess."

His brows crease as he stares at the floor, trying to work his thoughts into words, "I thought I was going to be bad for you, I mean, for when you were a kid. Look at me. I'm... Tony Stark. I'm don't give a crap about what anyone else thinks or says, and I live how I want, screwing the consequences," I raise my eyebrows in slight agreement, "That's not any environment to raise a kid. And, of course, I was the better option than Janice, but I definitely don't think, whatever you want to argue, I was the best solution for you."

As my lips purse, my eyes flicker from his face and down to my kneecaps.

"I mean, God, I dragged you around to bars, clubs, and parties with me from when you were three years old, and then on weapons demonstrations," he trails off, rolling his eyes at himself in irritation.

"Dad," I scold, shaking my head as we both remember Afghanistan.

"For as long as I've had you," he shakes his hand at me, "I have always drank too much, risked too much, partied too much, slept around with too many women," he concedes with visibly gritted teeth, dipping his head to the side.

"I get the point, yeah," I nod quickly, scratching my eyebrow as I try to get him to stop there.

"No, I don't think you do, that's what I'm trying to say," he walks closer, seriousness embedding itself onto his face, "Lees, I know people have said things to you over the years that you didn't need to hear," I frown at him as he struggles on to apologize for something that I've never needed an apology for, "Things about the company, about Pepper, about the lifestyle I chose for myself and, in turn, made you live, then about what happened to you in that cave, and about the suit and now the Avengers,"

"I don't regret any of those things!"

"And I'm saying that you should! And maybe it's my fault that you don't," I shake my head in confusion as he sighs, "Maybe I didn't raise you to regret the right things, I don't know. My point is that I'm sorry you didn't get a childhood, Lees. I'm sorry the choices I made took that from you."

"You didn't take anything from me and, you know what, don't act like my childhood was something horrible!" I stand up, anger taking over my expression and surprise taking over Dad's, "I didn't get the normal home, that's true, but I got two uncles who loved the crap out of me and I got a mom who showed me a kind of love I would have never gotten otherwise and I got a dad that showed me more kindness than anybody! So, shut up for once and just believe me. My childhood, good or bad, is what shaped me," so perhaps I really am like him, "And I don't regret it. And you shouldn't either."

He stares at me for a moment longer before nodding quickly and looking from me, "Sorry."

"You should be," I frown at him before shaking my head and tilting my chin towards the door, "Come on. The others are going to be waiting for us."

"Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time," not fifteen minutes later, Fury walks across the kitchen, watching as all of us quietly sit around the kitchen table, "My contacts all say he's building something. The amount of vibranium he made off with, I don't think it's just one thing."

"And he made off with a lot," I mumble, rubbing the center of my forehead as I remember seeing him steal it just before I went under.

Steve stays leaned against the wall, frowning, "What about Ultron himself?"

"He's easy to track," Fury explains to all of us rather nonchalantly, "He's everywhere. The guy is multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit," oh ew, "It still doesn't help us get an angle on any of his plans, though."

Dad pipes up from the other side of the room, "Is he still going after launch codes?"

"Yes, he is."

"But he's not making any headway."

"How is that possible?" I swivel in my kitchen chair, looking at Dad with a shake of the head, "He killed Jarvis, our Jarvis, and you're saying he can't hack into some launch codes?"

"She's right," he speaks incredulously, "I cracked the Pentagon's firewall in high school on a dare."

"Well, I contacted our friends at the Nexus about that."

"Nexus?" the supersoldier is rather confused about our new fandangled technology once more.

"It's the world internet hub in Oslo, every byte of data flows through there," Bruce explains, glancing around from behind his glasses, "Fastest access on Earth."

"So, what did they say?"

"He's fixated on the missiles, but the codes are constantly being changed."

"By whom?"

"Parties unknown."

Now that's odd. There is somebody else out there who is after Ultron? Or at least is preventing Ultron from getting what he wants until Ultron can come up with the proper price. Still, who on earth has the knowledge and the ability, besides those in the room, who have that specific amount of skill? Not many, I'd wager, and that makes whoever this is all the more dangerous.

Nat glances around with surprised and questioning eyes, "Do we have an ally?"

"Ultron's got an enemy," Fury shakes his head to the side a little.

"Unfortunately, not the same thing," I finish with a pursed frown, tapping my index finger to the wooden table in thought.

"Still, I'd pay folding money to know who it is."

"I might need to visit Oslo." Dad has his arms crossed over his chest, glancing around, "Find our unknown."

"Well," Nat sighs, resting a hand on the table as she looks up at Nick, "this is good times, Boss, but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that."

"I do. I have you." Fury answers simply, making us all look at him, some with a little more lack of faith than others, "Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere. Ears, everywhere else. You kids had all the tech you could dream up. Now, here we all are..." I glance around, feeling a small and sad smile break onto my face as memory of 2012 resurfaces, "Back on Earth, with nothing but our wit and our will to save the world."

Dad's words to me from three years ago replay in my mind, "We still have what we need."

I remember it was right after we lost Phil, Loki dropped Thor, and Banner hulked out and fell from the helicarrier. I remember feeling so hopeless. But we did it. We banded together. We assembled because it was what we needed to do.

"Ultron says the Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission. And whether or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction," I let out a heavy breath, shaking my head down to my feet before Fury motions around, "All this... laid in a grave."

Clint looks around his home where his family is kept safe, a look of fear passing his eyes.

"So stand."

Fury goes on to say a few choices words that lead to Natasha smirking across the room, "Steve doesn't like that kind of talk."

He lifts his head up, nodding at her with sass, "You know what, Romanoff?"

She smirks again before Fury asks, looking around seriously, "So, what does he want?"

"To become better," Steve answers firmly, "Better than us. He keeps building bodies."

"Person bodies," Dad points out, "The human form is inefficient. Biologically speaking, we're outmoded. But he keeps coming back to it."

Which is, again, odd. Why would he want to do that?

"When you two programmed him to protect the human race," Natasha looks at the two genius, giving a humorlessly smirk, "you amazingly failed."

I snort, shaking my head at the assassin who pushes her hands out in display.

Bruce walks forward a few steps, glancing down at Lila's butterfly painting that she gave to Nat, "They don't need to be protected," he lightly presses his fingers to it, thought wrinkling his forehead, "They need to evolve," he looks up at us in realization, "Ultron's going to evolve."

"Oh my," my eyes widen as I fall into line with Bruce's thinking, straightening up from my slouched position, "Has anybody heard from Doctor Cho recently?"

Next thing I know, we are all moving towards the front door, gathering up our belongings as we prepare to bug out. Clint and Laura step off to the side, both wearing solmen expressions. Natasha pats my shoulder as she passes, moving to redress into her uniform. I give her a small wave before I hop on one foot as I try to pull on my boots, trying to follow after Dad and Steve.

Steve looks over at the two of us as he loops his thumbs in his belt, "I'll take Natasha and Clint."

"Alright. Strictly recon. I'll hit the Nexus," Dad nods before pulling back to look over his shoulder, "You wanna come along?"

"Nah," I give a quick shake of the head as I unsteadily set my feet back on the ground, "Ultron's not gonna give up just yet, but if we can get the cradle, then we still have a chance. That being said, I think it's best if at least one of the two of us stays on Ultron's tail. "

He nods and his eyes linger on me for a beat before he looks back at Steve, speaking nonchalantly, "Okay then, I'll join you as soon as I can."

We stop by the living room's doorway as Steve darkly begins, "If Ultron's really building a body..."

"He'll be more powerful than any of us," Dad finishes with the same amount of severity, glancing from him to me, "Maybe all of us."

"Then we better stick together," I watch between the two, remembering what Steve said those few days ago and that strange feeling I had when they were arguing.

Dad scoffs in disbelief, commenting on the absurdity of all of this, "An android designed by a robot."

"You know," Steve bobs his head into a shake, "I really miss the days when the weirdest thing science ever created was me."

I shrug as I scrunch up my lips.

That's fair enough.

"I'll drop Banner off at the tower," Fury stops by Dad as he passes in his usual confident stride, "You mind if I borrow Ms. Hill?"

"She's all yours... apparently," Dad is always so terribly salty, I love it.

Fury just gives him a look.

"What's your plan, Nick?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and leaning my shoulder into the doorframe.

"I don't know. Something dramatic, I hope,"

I laugh a little, giving an approving nod.

This is why I love Furry.

"Bye, Kid," he taps my shoulder with the back of his hand as he then walks away.

After the ex-director disappears into the darkness of the night, I turn to Dad with a comforting, relaxed smile, trying to get back to normal, "I'll see you after this is all over. Hopefully, we'll just kick his little platinum booty and then we'll be back to normal," please God, help us get back to normal, "drinking chocolate milk and eating donuts and staying up too late."

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, sounds good."

Steve readjusts the shield on his back, "Ready, Lees?"

My face grows serious as I nod, "Let's go."

I'm halfway out the front door when Dad speaks again, calling after me, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

I laugh as I walk backwards so that I can face him, replying with one more thing before we return to battle, "And definitely not anything you would do."

His laughing face is the last thing I see before I turn and follow after the others, leaving behind the last place of safety we have.

See what I did there, did you? Hehe, I love connections, big and small. This is not at all my favorite chapter, but we had to get through it so we could get to some cool Maximoff twins and Lisa moments and then a special new character next chapter! I promise we are building to something with all of these mentions of Lisa's childhood and similarities to Tony - it's going to be VERY important. Lisa is going to do so far out of character, it's crazy. WHAT DO YOU THINK IS GOING TO HAPPEN? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and continue to stick with me!

VOTE, COMMENT, AND FOLLOW!

Spoiler for ma story:

I am working on a one-shot that includes both Svet and Lisa which is a look of what their lives would have been like if they were around in the 1940s for Steve's origin story that includes  Bucky, Howard, and Peggy! I'm so excited! So keep your eyes peeled for that!