Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Scott Lang still couldn’t quite believe that he was hanging out with the Avengers.

He still couldn’t quite believe anything that had happened over the past few weeks. He was still coming to terms with the whole half the population turned to dust thing, the whole time travel is possible thing, and the whole having a teenage daughter thing.

He still felt the air leave his lungs every time he video-called Cassie and was greeted with a young woman and not the pre-teen he had left behind. He could tell that she was tip-toeing around him, brushing off questions about college, and summer job applications, and boys (oh god, boys). She would often steer the conversation his way instead, asking every question under the sun about the Avengers, her eyes shining as he told her about Captain America and Hulk and her favorite—Black Widow.

Natasha. Nat. They called her Nat.

There were bits he left out, of course. How Thor spent more time passed out than conscious. The time he caught Steve in the room where they kept the photos of those they had lost, head in his hands. The hardness in Clint’s eyes, every trace of the joking, sarcastic archer he’d fought alongside with gone.

Clint’s transformation scared him the most, because he knew it so easily could have been him. A fifty-fifty chance. Scott had gotten lucky. Clint hadn’t.

But the only person Scott really struggled to talk to Cassie about was Tony Stark.

He had met Iron Man twice, and neither of those had been favorable circumstances. It had been the strangest thing, to have Natasha and Steve (was he allowed to call Captain America Steve?) drive up to Tony Stark’s home of all places, to sit on his porch and meet his wife and daughter and drink his coffee, when the last he had seen of the billionaire was when he was abandoning them to the Raft for good.

Maybe that wasn’t a fair statement. Scott wouldn’t say he had gotten to know Tony all that well, but he had agreed to risk all he had managed to build in the past five years to help reverse the Snap.

It was late, and Scott had just wrapped up a video call with Cassie when he passed the main workstation and saw Tony doing the same. He was thrown when he saw the unrestrained look of love on Tony’s face as he blew the screen a kiss. The look was gone the moment the call ended, tiredness replacing it as Tony returned to work on the…

He was still having trouble with time machine.

Scott knocked on the workshop door. Tony gave him a nod of acknowledgment and Scott entered, trying to ignore thoughts like I’m in the same room with Tony freaking Stark. “Hey…” Scott stumbled over saying Tony. It sounded too personal; Stark too impersonal. “Man,” he finished, then winced. “Do you want a hand?”

Tony ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “If I need someone to get into the tight places, you’ll be the first I call. For now, it’s all theory. You know, big words. Sometimes in big sentences.”

“I have a master’s degree in electrical engineering.”

Scott was rewarded with a slight raise of Tony’s eyebrows. “Huh. Mildly useful. Don’t you want to catch some shuteye with the other kids? Did you find rooms okay here?”

Scott was thrown by the last question—it seemed sincere. “Yeah…this place is huge. It wasn’t really an issue.”

Tony nodded as he returned to his notes. Seeing that Scott wasn’t leaving, he added, “If you’re going to stay, don’t hang out in the doorway. Sit.”

Scott took up one of the chairs, slapping his knees in an off-beat rhythm until he caught Tony’s withering stare. “Sorry.” He stopped. “Learned the drums last year. Or…five years ago, I guess. And some French. House arrest and stuff.”

He hadn’t meant it as a jab, he’d just been rambling, but Tony stiffened. Right, he probably shouldn't mention the Accords. Not his best idea.

“Was that Morgan?” Scott asked instead, quickly changing the subject.

Tony’s face softened. “Yeah. Little Madam's up past her bedtime, as per usual.”

“How’s she doing, with you being up here?”

Tony sighed as he pushed away his work, allowing some of the tiredness to show. “She’s a bit confused,” he admitted. “I’ve never been away this long. She can’t understand why. And it’s not as if I can explain it to her, not really.”

“Does she know about…” Scott thought about how to phrase this. The thought had never occurred to him before. He gestured around the Compound.

Tony cottoned on. “Iron Man? Yeah. The kiddie version, obviously. But she knows. About all of them. All of it—as much as she can understand, anyway. Which is a lot. Bright kid.” Tony was radiating pride.

“She must take after you,” Scott offered.

Tony grimaced. “A little bit. But she’s also half-Pepper, so I think she’s going to be okay. Must be hard.”

“What must be hard?”

Tony gestured vaguely in Scott’s direction. “Coming back to find yours grown up. Missing out on that time…I couldn’t imagine.”

Scott shrugged. “Yeah. Cassie’s been wonderful but she’s getting frustrated that I keep talking to her like she’s twelve. I mean, she’s basically an adult now. And I only just got back and now I’m up here and not with her…being away from her. You're right, it’s hard. I missed out on so much time with her because of bad decisions and when I tried to actually do something right, I just end up missing out on even more.” Scott suddenly remembered who he was talking to and brought himself up short.

Tony’s expression was full of sympathy, going so far as to reach across the table and give Scott’s shoulder a squeeze. “I get it.”

“Could be worse,” Scott muttered. “It could be so much worse.”

Neither of them said Clint’s name, but they were both thinking it.

“Do you want a drink?”

Scott blinked, taken back by the request. “Um, sure?”

Tony reached under his workbench, unlocking a drawer and pulling out a bottle of scotch Scott bet cost more than his mortgage. “Our secret,” Tony said, as he poured Scott a glass. “I don’t need Thor breaking in here next bender.”

“Um...okay.” He was drinking with Tony Stark. That was a thing that was now happening. 

Scott assumed the scotch was wonderful—he hadn’t had enough experience with that kind of thing to know—but he never got the chance to taste it.

It happened so fast. One moment, he was sitting in Tony’s workshop, about to share a drink with one of his previous heroes, then enemy, now friend(?), and the next there was a blur of movement as someone dropped from the ceiling behind him.

Tony was already moving, the watch on his wrist turning into an Iron Man gauntlet with the distinctive whir of his repulsors, when Scott felt a gloved hand slap over his mouth, pulling him close as something cold and sharp was placed against his throat.

Tony paused, his eyes going to the door. From the way his eyes darted from left to right, Scott assumed there were more in the room.

Tony aimed his repulsor at one of the attackers Scott couldn’t see, but kept his eyes on the one holding Scott.

“Look,” Tony said, sounding more irritated than scared. “I’ll level with you. It’s been a long day. It’s been a long week. Hell, it’s been a long few years. I’m tired, I’m busy, and I’ve certainly got more important things than dealing with whatever plan you think is going to work here, which I can assure you, will not. So this is my offer. Leave us alone, get out, don’t come back. That’s very generous. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

Scott felt the hand around his mouth tighten as the blade was pushed harder against his throat. “Lower your weapon,” the one holding him ordered Tony. Scott tried to place the accent, pretty sure it was Japanese.

Tony shot Scott a reassuring look and gave him a nod, which Scott hoped meant his teammate had a plan, because he sure as hell didn’t.

“Last chance,” Tony said, the repulsor firing up. “Or I’m going to take out your two buddies here.”

“If you take out my allies, I will take out yours,” Scott’s captor retorted. “I am prepared for that loss. Are you?”

Scott could see the gears turning in Tony’s mind. When the engineer hesitated further, Scott flinched as he felt the knife cut into his neck, blood soaking into his t-shirt.

“Alright!” Tony lowered the repulsor, returning it to watch form before he took it off and laid it on the desk. Scott tried to shake his head at him as Tony raised his hands in surrender, but the grip on his mouth with too strong. “Fine. I assume it’s me you’re after, yeah? Well done, you have me. Let him go.”

Scott was tugged to his feet. A second body approached him from behind, pulling his hands behind him and securing them with a zip-tie. He could see one of them now, approaching Tony to do the same thing. The man was dressed all in black, with a mask covering the lower half of his face. Tony gave an exaggerated eye roll as he let himself be restrained. “So you’re taking the stupid option. Fine.”

“You will leave this building quietly and with no resistance,” the man holding Scott said. “Any attempts to run or to summon your allies—and your friend pays the price.”

“Yeah, I got that much,” Tony shot at him. “So are you and the rest of the Three Ninjas going to show us out, or what?”

The one holding Scott pulled him towards the workshop door, not lessening his grip over his mouth or the knife at his throat, leaving Tony little choice but to follow.

Chapter Text

Scott couldn’t place how long the trip from the Compound to their new destination took. They had shoved him and Tony into an SUV with blackened windows and had wasted no time in driving them far away from the Compound. Scott’s captor had finally let go of his mouth when the doors to the van were shut and locked, but the knife didn’t move an inch for the entire car journey—he assumed to keep Tony in line. He only got one deep breath in before a bag was yanked over his head, trying not to panic as breathing got steadily harder.

The bag wasn’t removed until they were well within whatever building they had taken him and Tony to. He could tell they were inside when the wind battering against the bag suddenly stopped, and then it was corridors and stairs and elevators. He prayed Tony was doing a better job of following where they were going than he was, because he was completely lost.

When they finally stopped walking, there were hands on him making him kneel. He experienced some temporary relief as the zip-tie around his hands was cut—the plastic had rubbed the skin raw—before his hands were being guided around the back of a metal post and were locked in place with thick cuffs. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he then felt a similar pair being secured around his ankles. He tested both pairs. They weren’t budging.

The bag was ripped unceremoniously off his head and he gulped air, taking in his surroundings. For a wild moment, he thought he was still in the Compound’s workshop, for all the equipment that surrounded him. Then he took in the harsh fluorescent lighting, the wear and tear of the base around him, the reinforced steel door. Definitely not the Compound.

Tony was standing a few feet around from him, restrained by two black-clad figures. Tony sent him a jaunty wink that showed a lot more confidence than what Scott was feeling right now.

A shadow fell across the door to the room, and Scott gaped as the biggest man he had ever seen entered the workshop.

He was bigger even than Thor, well over six feet and shoulders so broad that he had to turn sideways to get through the doorway. He was somewhere in his sixties, his bald head reflecting the fluorescent lights.

“I gotta ask,” Tony started. “Who is your tailor, and can I have their number? Because making suits to fit you must be—”

Scott suddenly felt an intense pain that started in his side and traveled through his entire body, making him yell in surprise. It was gone as soon as it had started, but it was enough to make Tony whip his head around in Scott’s direction, eyes wide.

The man standing next to Scott was holding a taser very close to Scott’s rib cage.

“I know you consider yourself a witty man, Stark.” The large man spoke slowly and deliberately, as though every word was weighted. “But I will not suffer your childish taunts and games. I have heard them all, and they grow tiresome.”

Scott could see Tony biting down on whatever jab he had planned to throw their kidnapper’s way. The large man nodded in approval.

“You learn fast. This will be convenient for all of us. My name, Stark, is Wilson Fisk. It is a name you may or may not be familiar with, but that is unimportant. What is important is this: I am aware of your research at the Avengers Compound. I am aware that you have discovered the secrets to time travel. You will now give me those secrets.”

Tony glanced over at Scott before choosing his next words carefully. “It’s less secrets and more…theoretical ideas.”

“But you are very close to putting them into practice. Do not deny it; I will know you are lying.”

Scott heard the taser crackle next to him and flinched.

“Okay!” Tony placated him. “No lies. Fine. Are we going to find out how you know about this, by any chance?"

“That is irrelevant,” Fisk said. “Although perhaps the fact that I had the means to gather this information will inform you that I am not an amateur, Stark, and this was not a hasty decision. Your extended stay here has been well thought out.”

“Well…” Tony drew out the word. “Not that well thought out.” When Fisk didn’t rise to the bait, Tony continued. “You kidnapped two Avengers. From a team that is still recovering from losing half of its members to last oversized bald guy who decided to mess with us. So what exactly do you think’s going to happen when they find you?”

“They are not going to find me or you, Stark. I have made sure of that.”

“Are you sure you’re sure of that?”

Scott inhaled sharply as the taser moved to within an inch of his body, but Fisk raised a hand and it paused. “No, Sato. The other.”

That sounds bad was all Scott had time to think before a something thick and cold and hard was placed against his throat. He heard the sound of something lock before the metal bar over his windpipe was pulled tight and he couldn’t breathe. He heard Tony yelling and swearing at Fisk but he couldn’t focus on the words; could only focus on the pressure on his neck and the burning in his lungs.

Then Fisk raised his hand and the pressure was released, precious air was flooding into his lungs again.

Tony was no longer yelling—one of the men holding him had clamped a hand over his mouth. Tony was glaring daggers at Fisk, struggling against the men holding him back until the one gagging him moved right up behind him and locked a firm arm around his chest, immobilizing him.

“I am sure you understand how this goes, Stark,” Fisk said, still in that slow, calm voice. “You will do what I ask. You will not talk back. You will, all in all, behave. If you step out of line, Lang suffers the consequences. If you continue to disobey me, I will kill Lang, return to your Compound, and return with another of your friends. I will do this as many times as needed until you give in. Your friends will not find you. They are not coming to rescue you. The only way you both leave unharmed is if you follow my instructions and do as I ask."

The metal weight had settled on Scott’s chest now. His racing thoughts had slowed down enough to realize it was some kind of metal ring, locking his neck to the post behind him. Tony was looking from Scott, to Sato, and then back to Fisk, weighing up options.

“If it is of any comfort,” Fisk continued. “Rest assured that I do not want this technology for any nefarious purposes. I do not long for power or money or influence. Those I have, through my own means and with my alliance with the Hand.” He nodded to Sato. “I want the same as you, Stark—as what many in this world want. To have what was wrongfully taken be returned to me. Once this is achieved, I will vanish. You will not be able to find me, and you will not see me again. I will have no quarrel with you or members of your team. Any harm or misfortune that occurs during this exchange will be your own fault, not mine. Are we of an understanding?”

Tony locked eyes with Scott. Scott shook his head at him, which resulted in Sato’s hands twisting in his hair, keeping his head still.

Tony looked back at Fisk, and nodded.

“Thank you, Stark.” The men holding Tony released him.

Tony spat on the ground, wiping his mouth where the man’s hand had been. “Gross.” Tony looked at Fisk. “What I’m about to say isn’t a refusal. It’s facts.”

Fisk stared at him coldly, starting to raise his hand as a signal to Sato to start hurting Scott again.

“Wait!” Tony threw up both his hands in defeat. “I said yes, okay? But look, I know I’m…well, me, but even I can’t work miracles. I have none of my notes. None of my equipment. And it wasn’t just me working on the…sorry, I still have trouble saying time machine. I had help.”

Fisk nodded to one of the men, who placed a pen and paper on one of the desks. “Make a list,” Fisk told Tony. “Anything you need, I can get. Rarity and cost are not an issue. But heed this, Stark: if you use any of this equipment to attempt an escape—”

“You’ll step on the ant, yeah, I got that part. It wasn’t exactly subtle. I’m just giving you a heads-up that it’s not going to be easy, and it’s not going to be quick. I haven’t even fully worked out the theory bit yet.”

“Take the time you need to. If I suspect you are truly working as hard and as fast as you can, you and Lang will be treated well.”

Tony made the list. It took him the better part of an hour, and Scott could feel his shoulders beginning to ache from being restrained for so long. He shifted his weight as best he could with his feet bound in the heavy cuffs, praying that Tony had a plan. He sure as hell didn’t, beyond waiting for the Avengers to show up and rescue them.

You kidnapped two Avengers.

The less than fun context aside, Iron Man had called him an Avenger. It had never been made official. There had been no one to make it official to, not really. And even though he had been working with them for weeks now, had fought alongside them (and against) them…it was the first time he had heard someone who wasn’t Cassie call him an Avenger.

And his best plan as an Avenger, apparently, was waiting around to be saved.

Tony finished his list and handed it to Fisk. “That’s not going to be cheap,” Tony warned him. “And I might need more later. Actually, I almost certainly will need more later.”

“Money is no obstacle.” Fisk ran his eyes over the list. “I will get this to you as fast as possible.”

He made to leave the room, his men following him, and Scott’s heart sank as he realized that they intended to leave him tied up.

“Wait!” Fisk paused as Tony called after him.

Tony gestured to where Scott was still restrained. “I need him. Good assistant.”

Scott held his breath as Fisk weighed Tony’s request. Then, he nodded, just once. One of the men approached Scott, moving behind him to take off the cuffs.

Scott tried to catch Tony’s eye, to see if this was the beginning of an escape plan. Tony just shook his head at him. Don’t try anything.

Scott sighed with relief as the heavy weight was removed from his neck and he was free to move his arms and legs again.

The moment Fisk and the members of the Hand were out the door—which was shut with the click of a heavy lock behind them—Tony hurried to Scott’s side. “Hey. You okay?”

Scott winced as he shook the stiffness out of his limbs. “Yeah. I think so. Yes.”

Tony sat next to him, letting out a long breath. “Are you okay?” Scott asked him.

“I will be. We both will. This isn’t my first kidnap-Tony-Stark rodeo.”

“Do you think the team will find us?” Scott tried not to make his voice sound small, and failed.

Tony gave a huff of laughter. “From experience? Of course they will. But no harm in making it easier for them.”

“How do we do that?”

Tony met him with a hard look. He seemed to be considering something.

“Tony?” Scott pressed him.

“Two options. Get some kind of signal out to the team to tell them where we are, and risk being killed in the crossfire. Or I build some kind of weapon and we fight our way out, and risk being killed in the crossfire.”

“And by we you mean me, right? At least the crossfire part? Because they’re not going to risk killing you.”

“Yeah. Which I’m not exactly fine with, even if you were playing for Team Cap back in the day.”

His worn smile let Scott know he was joking (good, because Scott was never one hundred percent sure with Tony) as he pushed himself to his feet, giving Scott a hand to help him up as well.

“What are we going to do?” Scott asked him.

“Well, I’m an engineering genius, and you’re an ex-con. I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll be out of here in no time.’

Chapter Text

Four weeks had passed, and there was still no sign of rescue.

Tony had been true to his word with Fisk, dutifully rebuilding what he had been working on at the Compound. Fisk had kept his end of the bargain as well. Both Tony and Scott were at least being fed and were given access to a small bathroom and shower twice a day. The bruising around Scott’s neck was finally healed, with only a faint yellow line to show where the metal ring had been used to strangle him.

If there was one silver lining—and it was a slim one at that—it was that Scott was actually learning quite a lot from the engineering genius. He was surprised at how patient Tony was at explaining what he was building and why, and after a while even started chatting to him about their children and Scott’s adventures with Hank and Hope.

Hank Pym seemed to be a bit of a sore spot with Tony, reminding Scott of Hank’s refusal to let a Stark get anywhere near his technology. But this wasn’t the Tony Stark Hank had known and distrusted. This was one was…well, he was a father.

They talked about their children the most, at their distress of being parted from them for so long. “I just got back,” Scott confided in Tony, about a week into their captivity. “And then I left her to come help the Avengers, which I don’t regret, I mean it’s the Avengers but…”

Tony didn’t break his focus from the metal he was currently breaking down for parts. He sighed. “Yeah.” He broke off the part he needed and started on another. “So much for promising Pepper no more surprises.”

“Is…” Scott leaned in conspiratorially. “Is there a plan?”

Tony just tapped the side of his head and gave Scott a knowing smile, then went back to work.

A couple of days later, Tony wrote out another list of supplies. Fisk hadn’t visited them since the first day, so Sato was now the one who delivered their meals and took Tony’s requests.

“What is the Hand, anyway?” Tony asked the man as he handed them the list. “Seems all scary and shady, and yet you’re some rich white guy’s errand boy?”

The quip had earned him a clip across the jaw, but Sato had taken the list without checking it too closely.

After a fortnight had passed, Fisk returned to check on the progress. Sato had come with him, and had stood uncomfortably close to Scott for Tony’s demonstration, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other on the knife in his belt. But Fisk had seemed satisfied, and Sato had let Scott go without injury.

“I want you to know that I appreciate your cooperation,” Fisk told Tony when they were done for the day. “You have made things easier for both of us, and this has not gone unnoticed.” Fisk tapped on the workshop door, and one of the black-clad men entered with a large bundle of boxes.

When Fisk and Sato were gone, Tony and Scott examined the gift to find extra blankets, some fresh fruit, coffee and a pot to brew it in, and a couple of games. Tony went immediately for the coffee, opening the tin and inhaling.

“Oh darling, I’ve missed you,” he breathed, before his eyes fell on the games. Scott clocked the wry smile on his face as he lifted a backgammon set. “Do you know how to play?”

Scott shook his head. “Shouldn’t we keep working on the…” He gestured to the pile of parts.

“Is saying time machine still weird for you too?”

“Oh yeah,” Scott admitted. “Big time.”

Tony grabbed one of the blankets and an apple, spreading the fabric out on the floor and opening the backgammon set. “You heard the big guy. We earned a break.”

That night, Scott was just falling into sleep—a much easier task with the extra blankets to keep out the workshop’s chill—when he heard a quiet muttering to his left.

“Tony?”

Scott rolled over, only just able to make out Tony’s outline in the darkness. The man was thrashing in his sleep, fighting something only he could see.

Scott hesitated, unsure of what to do, when Tony let out a terrified whimper. “Tony.” Scott felt for Tony’s shoulder, shaking him awake. “Wake up, it’s just a nightmare.”

Tony shot up, his hands going for Scott. Scott flinched, thinking it was an attack, but instead Tony gripped his shoulder like a lifebuoy. “Yinsen?” he gasped.

“Hey, hey,” Scott soothed him. “It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real.”

It was then Scott realized that Tony wasn’t breathing.

“Tony!" Even though it was too dark to see his friend’s face, Scott could feel Tony’s struggles to pull air into his lungs. The engineer’s fingers dug into his shoulder, making Scott wince as the nails bit through his t-shirt.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?" Panic attack, his mind supplied. Maggie used to have them when they first got together.

Scott helped Tony sit up, placing him in a position where there was less pressure on his lungs. Tony didn’t let go of his shoulder, so Scott felt around with his free hand until he found Tony’s. “We’re going to breathe together,” Scott told him. “When I squeeze your hand, we’re going to inhale together. When I let go we’re going to exhale. Ready? Okay—inhale.”

Scott inhaled slowly, momentarily panicking again when he didn’t feel Tony breathe with him. He tried again, and this time, Tony’s breath hitched in his throat, and they took a breath together. After ten breaths, Tony’s breathing had become regular on its own, although it was still harsh and ragged. After twenty, the panic attack had stopped.

Relief flooded Scott, and he suddenly became very conscious that he was holding Tony Stark’s hand. He hesitated, unsure what to do next, when he felt Tony’s head hit his shoulder.

Glad for the darkness, Scott shuffled closer so he was supporting more of Tony’s weight. He searched for words, but couldn’t find any. You’re okay, or You’re safe now seemed hollow given their situation. Instead he just said, “I’m here.”

He heard Tony let out a long breath, then raised his head from Scott’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbled, detangling himself from Scott.

“It’s fine. My ex-wife has anxiety. It’s rough.”

Tony let out a low laugh. “That’s one word for it.” He took a shaky breath.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah it’s just…it’s been a while.” The next breath Tony took was evener. “They never really went away but definitely…less. Since the lake house. Since Morgan.”

Not sure what else to say, Scott asked, “Who’s Yinsen?” He felt Tony stiffen beside him and immediately wished he hadn’t asked. “Sorry."

“No, it’s fine. Yinsen was…he’s the reason for Iron Man.”

Whatever answer Scott had been expecting to hear, it wasn’t that.

“I met him in Afghanistan,” Tony continued in a low voice. “Actually, I met him once before that, but I was too off my face to remember. The Ten Rings had him as well, made him my assistant.”

“He helped you build the first Iron Man suit.”

“Yes, but more than that. He told me not to waste my life. Last words he said to me, after he sacrificed himself so I could get out. That kind of thing…well, it makes an impression."

“You haven’t,” Scott said after a long pause. “Wasted your life.”

Tony gave a low huff of laughter. “I was so worried about that, for so long. About being someone who was worth that kind of sacrifice. Someone my dad would have been proud of. It was like this tiny voice I was always trying to live up to. But nothing worked. Not Iron Man, not the Avengers, not even Pepper. But the moment Morgan was born, the first time I held her…I knew. My life was worth something. Because of her.”

“Yeah,” Scott murmured. “I get it.”

Scott felt Tony squeeze his shoulder. “I know you do. Now get some sleep. We have more time machine building to do in the morning.”

“You’re not actually building him one, are you?”

“Yes and no.” Scott could hear shuffling as Tony settled back on the thin mattress that made for a bed. “Am I building a time machine for Fisk? Yes. Do I expect our friends to show up and kick his ass before I finish? Also yes.”

Tony didn’t have any more nightmares after that—at least not ones that woke him up. As much as it was grating on him to do nothing when he didn’t know what Tony was planning, Scott continued being Tony’s assistant, trusting in whatever plan the mechanic had put into motion.

Tony had progressed slightly further than he had at the Compound, pointing out that the discoveries he was making in Fisk’s workshop were at least making some use of their time in captivity.

Four weeks into their kidnapping, Fisk entered their prison for the third time.

Scott could immediately tell that something was wrong. Rage clouded Fisk’s face, and he had brought two members of the Hand as well as Sato with him. Tony had clocked that something was off as well, abandoning his work and moving closer to the center of the room.

As Sato and the other Hand members moved into the workshop, Tony moved too, placing himself between them and Scott. “Problem, boys?”

“I thought we understood each other.” Fisk was glaring at Tony. Scott’s eyes darted to the workshop door—which they had not closed behind them. The Hand and Fisk were blocking their way, but they could make a run for it.

Tony put an arm across Scott’s chest, keeping him behind him. “I thought we did too,” he said to Fisk. “Want to explain the impromptu party?”

Fisk pulled a sheet of paper Scott recognized as Tony’s last list of requests and slammed it so hard into one of the workbenches that the metal dented. One item was circled in red. Tony frowned as he looked at it, his face the picture of innocence. “Look, I said some of them were going to be pricey and not easy to get your hands on, remember?”

“And you just happened to require a piece that is on Stark Industries’ watch list?”

Scott’s heart skipped a beat. So this was Tony’s plan to get them out. And now it seemed to be going very, very wrong.

“A piece,” Fisk continued. “That you knew would raise alarms? That would be tracked wherever it was taken?” The man was shouting now, his voice filling the workshop and making Scott wince.

The Hand members were still encroaching on them. Tony was backing away, making Scott do the same, until they hit the wall.

Fisk took a deep breath, calming himself. “It is no matter,” he said. “I have sent it off to a new location, where I’m sure your friends will follow. So I will simply punish this behavior, and move you somewhere else, and we will start again.”

Sato grinned as he moved closer, a taser crackling in his hands. “Move,” he ordered Tony. “Or I’ll make you.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Sato lunged forward with the taser but Tony dodged, pushing Scott out of the way as he landed a blow in Sato’s side. The other man winced, signaling to his two men. They drew guns and aimed them at Scott.

Seeing where the guns were pointed, Tony stepped to one side. “Good boy,” Sato smiled at him, then shoved the taser into his ribs anyway. Tony let out a hiss as he doubled over. The other Hand members grabbed Scott, dragging him to his feet and hauling him over to the metal pole in the middle of the room. Dread settled on him as his hands and feet were once more cuffed, and a gun was placed against his temple.

Tony was already on his feet again, hands raised in surrender. “Alright,” he said, eyes on Fisk. “Can’t blame me for trying. But if you’re serious about moving us, and making me start all over again? That’s going to take a whole lot longer if you take away the one person aside from me who actually knows what they’re doing.”

Fisk was signaling to one of the men by Scott. Scott drew a sharp intake of breath, expecting the worst, but the man simply nodded and left the room. Scott recalled Tony’s hours of patient explanation, making sure Scott had known and understood everything he was doing. Now he could see why. He was trying to make Scott less expendable, to protect him in case Fisk figured out what he was trying to do.

“I will admit I am reluctant to remove such a capable assistant from your work,” Fisk agreed. He was running his large hands over Tony’s notes, almost reverently. “I wish you had not put me in this position, Stark. I believed we had an understanding.”

“I wasn’t going to just hand over a time machine,” Tony snapped at him. “I know a thing or two about putting technology out into the world without fully thinking through the consequences.”

“I want it for such a small thing,” Fisk continued, as if Tony hadn’t spoken. “Small to the world, that is, but everything to me.” Fisk gripped a hunk of disused metal, and Scott’s eyes widened when he saw it bend in the giant fist. “You’re a father, aren’t you, Stark?”

Tony froze. “If you bring Morgan anywhere near this, you’ll die. Slowly. Painfully. I can’t even guarantee that I’ll be the one that does it. Kid has a hell of a lot of superheroes watching her back.”

Again, Fisk ignored him. “I was a father once, too. Although I am unsure you can ever stop being a father, even when your child is taken from you.”

Tony’s bark of laughter finally made Fisk look at him. “Is that what this is about? Wanting to bring someone back who was lost in the Snap? Because you could have saved yourself a whole lot of trouble, pal. If you had just waited a few months—”

“HE DIDN’T DIE IN THE SNAP.” Fisk pounded the workbench, breaking it, as Scott continued to struggle against the cuffs. Even if Fisk didn’t intend to kill him, Scott wasn’t looking forward to what was coming next.

Regaining his composure, Fisk looked towards the workshop door—still unlocked, still open. Scott tried to grab Tony’s attention, to tell him that if he could run, run. Not that he loved the idea of being left behind, but better one of them get out than neither of them. But Tony’s wary eyes were rooted on Fisk.

“It was an accident,” Fisk said quietly. “A pointless, needless accident. You will build this machine, Stark, and I will go back and save my son.”

“That’s not how it works,” was as far as Tony got before the man who had left the workshop finally returned, hauling a figure with him and—

The young woman had a bag over her head, but Scott recognized her instantly. He had bought her those sneakers just last month.

“CASSIE!” Scott screamed, trying desperately to break out of the cuffs. He could feel the metal tearing into his skin, but he didn’t stop. “Don’t hurt her! Hurt me! Kill me, I don’t care, just don’t—”

“Silence him,” Fisk ordered and then Scott felt something rough and coarse being shoved into mouth before it was taped firmly into place. He struggled and yelled anyway, not taking his eyes off the figure that Fisk was now walking towards.

“I tell you this story not to gain your pity or your sympathy,” Fisk said. “But to make it clear to you that I understand how much pain this is going to cause your friend. Pain which—if you had done as I’d asked, Stark—you could have prevented.”

Tony had clearly put the pieces together, his mind racing to find a solution as he was restrained by Sato and the other Hand member. Fisk approached the young woman and ripped the bag off her head, and Scott would never see anything more horrible than Cassie in the grips of a criminal, layers of tape preventing her from speaking as her panicked eyes darted around the room, settling on him.

Scott tried to calm himself down, to show Cassie that everything was going to be okay. Come on, Lang. Time for the last-ditch effort plan.

“Okay!” Tony tried to rip himself out of the men’s grasp, but they stayed firm. “Fine! You win. Okay? Fisk! I said you win!”

Fisk was now a foot away from Cassie. She looked up at him with huge eyes which, Scott noted with both fear and pride, stared up at him in defiance as Fisk placed his huge hands around her neck.

Scott hadn’t felt this helpless since he had seen Cassie in Darren Cross’s arms, but at least then he’d the suit. Now, he couldn’t do anything as he watched Tony bargain—no, beg—for his daughter’s life.

“Fisk!” Tony slammed his foot down on one of Sato’s feet, making him release him, but the other one just tugged him more firmly into his grip. “Let her go, or I’m not going to build you so much as a toaster oven.”

“You will build me what I ask, Stark,” Fisk said. “I will be obeyed. Or I’ll send her father to her grave with her.”

He began to squeeze, just as an arrow seemed to erupt from his hand.

Fisk looked down at the arrow almost curiously, lifting it closer to his face to examine it, one hand still on Cassie’s throat.

Then the arrow exploded, taking most of Fisk’s arm with it.

With a roar of pain, Fisk staggered backward as Tony elbowed the man holding him in the ribs, before diving across the room and knocking Cassie to the floor. Scott could only watch as a second arrow landed in Fisk’s shoulder. He tried to rip it out, but his remaining hand couldn’t reach before the small grenade within detonated. Fisk dropped to his knees as a black-clad archer dropped from the ceiling vent above them, aiming an arrow straight between Fisk’s eyes.

“Please…” was all Clint let Fisk say before the arrow was loosed.

Natasha was out of the shadows a second later, her and Clint making short work of the Hand as Tony set about freeing Cassie from her bonds. Scott was so relieved that he didn’t even notice just who was undoing his cuffs until there was an all too familiar knife pressed against his throat.

Scott tried to yell out to the other Avengers as his hands were re-cuffed behind his back, but his cries were lost in the gag as Sato dragged him from the workshop. He thought he got a glimpse of Cassie’s panicked eyes following him before Sato was pulling him through the maze of corridors. Scott realized that, wherever they were, he and Tony had been kept deep underground. The first glimpse of daylight was dazzling, and Scott’s heart jumped to see it even as he realized where Sato was taking him—a car. Scott redoubled his efforts to get free, realizing that if Sato drove away with him now, his chances of staying alive long enough for his friends to find him were slim to none.

Just as Sato had almost dragged Scott out the door, there was a distinctive whir of a repulsor, and a blast exploded right in front of the door. Sato tightened his grip on Scott as he swung him around, using him as a shield as Iron Man, now in full armor, approached them.

“Stay back or I’ll kill him,” Sato growled, the knife biting into Scott’s throat.

“And lose the only leverage you have against a building full of Avengers? I don’t think so.” The nanotech around Tony’s head retreated, so Scott could see his friend’s face. Tony gave him a reassuring nod, not lowering the repulsor aimed at him and Sato.

“You have a choice,” Tony informed Sato. “Let him go, and we drag you off to a cozy cell where you’ll get to live out the rest of days with some comfort. Or don’t, and kiss the rest of those days goodbye.”

Sato was holding him so tightly that the next words were said right in Scott’s ear. “It is you who have the choice, Stark,” Sato hissed at him. “Let me leave, and I’ll call you where you can pick up Lang when I’m sure I’m far enough away, and there are none of your other friends after me. Or…” Sato dug the knife into Scott’s neck, drawing blood.

“This isn’t going to work,” Tony pressed him. “You have one chance—one—of getting out of here in one piece. So give it up and let him go.”

Scott could feel Sato hesitating behind him, could feel the man’s hot breath on his cheek. Scott closed his eyes. At least Cassie was safe. As long as she was okay, as long as she had gotten out…he could be okay with this. He would be okay with this.

“DAD!”

Scott’s eyes flew open and his heart dropped as he saw his daughter barreling around the corner and skidding to a stop at Tony's elbow. “Let him go, you bastard!”

Tony’s eyes were darting from Cassie to Scott, then he seemed to make a decision. He tapped his chest, and the nanites retreated into a glowing triangle on his chest. He tugged it off and placed it in Cassie’s hands, the teenager’s eyes going wide as she realized what she was holding.

Tony looked back at Sato. “Take me.”

Scott gave a muffled yell of protest as Tony raised his hands in surrender, shaking his head at Tony. Don’t do it, he thought desperately. Come on, last-minute plan, come on…

Sato let out a rough laugh. “Your tricks won’t work on me, Stark.”

“No tricks,” Tony promised. “But I think we know that the second you think you’re free of us, Lang just becomes an inconvenience to you. No prizes for guessing what happens then. So I can’t let you take him out of here. But me? I’m a golden ticket. There’s a long list of people who want me dead or building shiny toys for them, and I’m guessing the price on my head is something you’re about to be very interested in, given that my buddy back there just exploded your last boss.”

The knife shifted ever so slightly away from Scott’s throat. “No tricks?” Sato asked, still suspicious.

“Scout’s honor.”

“I doubt you have any kind of honor, Stark.” But Scott could feel the hold on him lessening. Tony stepped forward, and Scott tried to make eye contact, to see if Tony had some kind of plan, something to get them both out, because as much as he didn’t want to be dragged off to his death, he certainly didn’t want this either.

Just as Tony reached Sato, about to give himself up, Sato stiffened, a strangled yell startling Scott.

For the fourth time that day, Hawkeye’s arrow had found its mark.

Tony lunged forward, grabbing Sato’s wrist in one hand and Scott with the other, tugging him out of Sato’s grasp. The second Scott was clear, another arrow buried itself in Sato’s heart and he collapsed, not moving.

Tony’s hands were already moving to undo the cuffs, as Cassie raced forward and started to peel the tape off Scott’s mouth. He coughed as she yanked out the coarse material, trying to work saliva back into his mouth.

Cassie threw her arms around him. “Hey, Dad.”

Scott hugged her back, caring about nothing except his daughter being alive and safe in his arms. “Hey, Peanut.”

Chapter Text

Cassie spent the next week at the Compound.

The moment that Fisk had bought the part on the Stark Industries watchlist, Pepper had been alerted and immediately contacted Steve. The Avengers had assembled (he still loved hearing that) and tracked the equipment as far as the abandoned warehouse Fisk had been using as his base, when the part had suddenly changed destinations. Steve had suspected that all wasn’t well, and had only sent half the team to the new destination, while Clint and Natasha had checked out the warehouse Scott and Tony were being kept in.

“Took you long enough,” Tony had griped to them as they helped him, Cassie, and Scott into a quinjet and headed for home. Natasha had just hugged him and told him there were cheeseburgers waiting back home.

No one had objected to Cassie’s extended stay. The heroes all took to the teenager, especially Nat (he could call her Nat, right?), who met with Cassie every morning to show her some self-defense moves, and although Scott prayed she would never need them, it put his mind (slightly) to rest.

Cassie would spend the afternoons with Tony, Scott, and Bruce as they worked on the time machine, which they were slowly coming to terms with saying out loud. Bruce was impressed with the advancements Tony had made while in captivity, and their progress accelerated. Scott’s four weeks hadn’t been a total loss either, as he found he could keep up with the two geniuses more easily, and became Tony’s regular assistant.

Tony was even more patient with Cassie than he had been with Scott in Fisk’s warehouse as she lent a helping hand. Prior to the Fisk incident, Cassie had had less than warm feelings towards the man she blamed for Scott’s arrest and time on the Raft, but seeing Tony offer himself to Sato in return for Scott’s safety seemed to have finally put those resentments to rest.

On the third day of Cassie’s stay, Pepper arrived with Morgan.

Tony immediately dropped everything he was doing and spread his arms out wide, causing the little girl to shriek with excitement and dash into her dad’s arms. “Hey you,” Tony said as she buried her face in his chest. “You miss me?”

Morgan nodded.

“Bet I missed you more.”

Morgan pulled back, an indignant look on her face. “Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh, it’s true. You remember Uncle Bruce?”

Bruce waved a giant green hand at Morgan who giggled and waved back.

“And Uncle Scott? He came to visit us with Cap and Aunty Nat, remember?”

Morgan looked shyly over at Scott.

“Hey, Morgan.” Scott gave her a smile and a wave. “You been missing your dad?”

Morgan wrapped her arms around Tony’s neck in answer, looking over at Cassie. “I’m Cassie,” the teenager introduced herself. She glanced over at Scott. “I missed my dad when he was gone too.”

Pepper and Morgan decided to stay a few days as well. “We’re going to have to build an Avengers daycare,” Tony had quipped, but Scott could tell he was pleased. Scott couldn’t help but notice the change brought about in the genius when his family was present. The weariness that clung to Tony like a cloud evaporated every time Morgan was in the room with him.

Cassie and Morgan got along instantly. Morgan clung to her like glue, taking particular delight in all of the photos Cassie showed her of the ugly dolls Scott had made her when she was growing up.

It was getting late one evening as Cassie passed Morgan off to Tony so he could put her to bed. Morgan asked if Cassie could read her a bedtime story, but Tony saw Scott in the doorway and quickly promised her two bedtime stories if she was okay with him doing the reading. “You suck at telling stories,” Morgan had complained.

“I’m great at telling stories. I leave out all the boring bits.”

“You leave out all the bits.”

Tony grinned as he adjusted Morgan more firmly in his arms, giving Scott a nod as he and the little girl left the room, still bickering good-naturedly, leaving Scott and Cassie alone.

As soon as Tony and Morgan were gone, Scott produced a case of cider from behind his back. “Hey. Do you want a drink?”

Cassie’s eyes went wide in surprise. "I don’t drink.”

“You’re seventeen and a high school senior. I mean, if you don’t, great, but if you do, I’d rather you be responsible about it.”

“This feels like a trap.”

“I promise it’s not. Want to go sit somewhere?”

Ten minutes later, Cassie and Scott were sipping ciders outside the Compound as the sun set over the horizon. Cassie grimaced as she took her first sip. “Does this even have alcohol in it?”

“Aha! You do drink!”

“Only sometimes.”

“Does your mom know?

“No! Don’t you dare tell her!”

Scott grinned as he also tried the cider. “Oh, wow. That’s basically just apple juice.”

“See?”

“Sorry. I chose the one with the lowest alcohol percentage. What do you normally drink?”

Cassie shuffled her feet, eyes on the ground. “Um, beer, usually. Lagers.”

“Is this weird?"

“Talking about underage drinking with my dad? A little.” She looked up at him. “But I appreciate it.”

“Free alcohol?”

“Treating me like an adult.”

“Yeah, well. You basically are.”

Cassie slid closer to Scott so she could rest her head on his shoulder. He smiled until he felt the first tear soak into his t-shirt. “Cassie?”

“Sorry.” She wiped her eyes. “Stupid.”

“No, it’s not. What’s wrong? You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

Cassie sniffed loudly as she said, “It was the worst moment of my life. When you didn’t answer the phone.” Scott’s brow creased in confusion, but Cassie continued before he could ask. “After the Snap. When everyone…when we found out. The first thing I did was call you. And you didn’t answer the phone. The worst moment.”

“Cassie…”

“And then you came back only to go missing again.”

Scott laid the cider to one side and wrapped both arms around Cassie, pulling her close. “I’m sorry, Peanut,” he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “You should never have gone through that. Any of it.”

They had talked about what had happened with Fisk, the night they first got back to the Compound. Cassie was shaken but had assured him she was fine, now that she knew he was safe as well. Natasha and Pepper had combined forces to increase the security around Maggie and Jim’s house, although Scott had hated that that was necessary at all.

“I guess that’s all part of your dad being an Avenger.”

“I’m your dad first. Always. And if being this, being Ant-Man, puts you in danger…”

Cassie pulled away so she could see his face. “You’re not quitting.”

“Cassie, this is the second time the bad guy has targeted you to get to me. I don’t want there to be a third. Nothing’s more important than you.”

“I think half the universe would disagree.” Cassie leaned around and picked up her cider again, taking a long drink. The sun had almost set now, staining the sky amber. “They need you.”

Scott gave her a small smile. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“I mean it. They’re here because of you, aren’t they? The time heist idea—that was you.”

Scott shrugged. “I may have put some things in motion, but—”

“Don’t downplay it,” Cassie cut him off. “They need you. The universe needs you. And that’s more important than me having you around. Even if it sucks.”

Scott took a deep breath. “You really did grow up, didn’t you?”

“Everyone did,” Cassie said in a small voice. “On that day, we all…the world wasn’t a good place. It still isn’t. But you can change that.”

“I hope so.”

“You will.”

They finished off another cider each before Cassie announced she had promised to call Maggie before bed, and headed back inside. Scott was about to follow her when another figure stepped outside the Compound. Scott didn’t even hear him approach until he was right beside him, making him jump. “Clint! Goddamnit, you’re sneaky.”

It was the kind of comment that usually would have invited a sarcastic comeback, but Clint just muttered an apology without slowing down, clearly headed somewhere else. Scott called after him. “Um, you want a cider?”

Scott held out the two remaining in the six-pack. Clint blinked at the request, as though just realizing Scott was there. “No,” he said shortly, and was about to keep going when the door to the Compound opened yet again and Tony stepped out, a giggling Morgan clutched in his arms.

“I want Mommy to put me to bed,” the little girl was demanding.

“So I can pass you over to her and you can say you want Daddy? Again?”

The little girl shrieked in delight at the game, squirming to get out of Tony’s arms. “Hey, woah! One sec.”

Tony carefully deposited Morgan on the ground, although he kept a firm hand on her shoulder as the little girl tried to escape, still giggling. “Hey, no hide and seek after dark. You know the rules.”

Tony finally realized he wasn’t alone, looking from Scott to Clint. “Hey, Legolas. Do you think you could take her for a walk around the block? Try and tire her out? Not that I think that’s possible. She’s like me—doesn’t know when to go to bed.”

Before Clint could reply, Morgan twisted out of Tony’s grip with a joyful “Uncle Clint!” and dashed across to put her hand in the archer’s. Clint was frozen for a moment, then softened as he said, “You being naughty and not listening to Daddy?”

The little girl giggled as she swung off Clint’s arm. “That’s okay,” Clint continued, leaning down so he was whispering conspiratorially in her ear. “I don’t listen to him either.”

Morgan burst out laughing as Clint swung her onto his shoulders, and started off on the loop around the Compound.

Tony sat beside Scott instead, taking the cider Scott offered him with an incredulous expression. “Don’t tell me this is what you drink.”

“I was trying to buy something for Cassie…she didn’t like it either.”

“Girl’s got good taste.”

Tony cracked the cider anyway, offering to cheers with Scott. “To not being locked in a warehouse by a bald giant.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

They drank in a companionable silence, which Tony eventually broke. “Cassie liking the Compound?”

“Loves it. Morgan clearly does as well.”

“Too much,” Tony grumbled. “She seems determined to get her tiny hands on every high-tech gizmo in this place. I didn’t exactly childproof it when I designed it.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“That it wasn’t childproofed?”

“That you designed the Compound.”

Tony shrugged. “After the whole Ultron incident at the Tower, I figured I owed the team a new home. And we had new recruits coming in, so more space seemed appropriate.” He sighed. “That seems like fifty years ago now. Although, I guess not for you.”

“Not so much, no,” Scott muttered.

“You okay?”

Scott looked over to see Tony watching him closely, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah. Well, no. Yes but no.” Scott fiddled with a bottle cap, tossing it between his fingers. “When we were in the warehouse, when Fisk had Cassie, and then Sato had me…I kept thinking that I was going to come up with this last-minute plan that was going to save us. But I didn’t. Even when Fisk was about to…” Scott swallowed hard, not wanting to remember the sight of the giant hands around his daughter’s throat. “I couldn’t do anything. I was useless. If Nat and Clint hadn’t come to the warehouse, if you hadn’t come after me…”

Tony was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment before he said, “Sometimes the plan is waiting for the backup.” Tony was gazing at the deep purple skies, lost in thought. “Do you know the arc reactor almost killed me?”

Taken aback, Scott shook his head.

“Palladium poisoning. Nasty stuff—zero out of ten, would not recommend. And I didn’t tell anyone. I thought I could fix it on my own. Lone gunslinger act, as Rhodey called it. If SHIELD hadn’t stepped in, given me Dad’s old research…” Tony drew a line across his throat. “So yeah. I can appreciate the team. People who have your back. Even when they don’t…they do.”

Scott frowned. “You lost me.”

“Even after everything went to shit with me and Cap, he still left me a way to get in contact with him. Just in case. If I needed him to be there, he would be.” Tony was quiet for a long moment before he added, “I guess what I’m trying to say is…sometimes there isn’t a way out of the cave. At least not alone.”

Scott was spared of thinking of an answer as Clint rounded the corner, Morgan chatting away as she bounced on his shoulders. The moment she saw them, she was struggling to get down. Morgan barrelled over to Scott the second her trainers touched concrete and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. “Uncle Scott can carry me now!”

“Morguna,” Tony chided.

“Uncle Scott, please carry me now!” The little girl leaned over so she was whispering in Scott’s ear. “Mommy gets mad when Daddy doesn’t remind me.”

“I bet she does. Okay, you ready?”

Scott gathered Morgan onto his shoulders, catching a glimpse of Clint’s face as he took his place beside Tony. The archer’s expression was set, as it usually was, but the moment Scott rounded the corner, he heard Clint break, followed the gentle sounds of Tony comforting him.

“Uncle Clint is sad,” Morgan stated.

“Yeah,” Scott said softly. “He misses some people.”

“Daddy gets sad too sometimes. About the boy in the picture. Mommy says not to ask about it.”

“Do you listen to her?”

“No. Daddy said he's my big brother, and that he's going to bring him back and I can meet him. That’s why he has to be away from home all the time.”

“And what did you say?”

“That I wanted a big sister instead. Can Cassie be my big sister?”

“I think she’d like that. A lot.”

Cassie’s week at the Compound came to an end far too soon. “Dad,” she protested, as he pulled her in for yet another hug, only to hug him back just as hard.

“I’ll see you soon,” Scott promised.

“Once you’re finished saving the universe?”

“That’s nothing. Once that’s done, the real trouble starts. College. Have you started applying yet?”

Cassie pulled back from the hug, adjusting her backpack over her shoulder. “I was set on Brown, but Tony said he had some pull at MIT, if I was interested.”

“Are you?”

“Maybe. I got time to think about it.” Cassie gave him a grin. “I’m not totally grown-up yet.”

Pepper arranged to take Morgan home soon after. Scott caught them just before they left. “I have a present for Morgan,” he said, then suddenly flushed red. “Um, it’s kind of weird. Sorry.”

“Present!” Morgan demanded, and Scott handed her an ugly doll to rival even the fiercest in Cassie's collection. Pepper gave a surprised laugh when she saw it.

“Cassie used to like them,” Scott tried to explain but Morgan was already smiling and hugging the doll to her chest.

Scott found Tony in the workshop later that day, progressing the time machine. There were red rims around his eyes, which a month ago Scott would have ignored, feeling too awkward or embarrassed to say anything. Now he said, “Hey. You okay?”

Tony looked up in surprise, being too wrapped up in his work to have noticed Scott’s entrance. “Always.”

“I’m going to miss them too.”

Tony shot him a smile. “You want to give me a hand with this then, Thumbelina?”

“Sure.”

They worked in companionable silence before Scott asked the question that was burning on the tip of his tongue. “Hey, Tony…do you ever worry about Morgan? About her being a target for the people who want to hurt you?”

“Every goddamn day.”

“How do you cope with it?”

Tony considered his answer. “Even if they somehow got through me, and Rhodey, and Happy, and Pepper—who is sporting her very own suit these days, by the way. Blue’s her color.” Tony gestured around the Compound. “They’d have to get through every single one of them. And if someone went after Cassie? The same deal.”

Scott thought he had finished, but then Tony continued, “Because the Avengers are more than a team. We’re a family. A dysfunctional, screwed up family, and only half of us are here right now, but that doesn’t stop us from having each other’s backs." He hesitated, then added, “I didn’t see that. Not for a long time. But this isn’t exactly a world where you take things for granted anymore.”

“So what you’re saying is that anyone coming for Cassie has to face every one of the Avengers.”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Because we’re family.”

Tony clapped Scott on the shoulder. “Yeah, Scott. Because we’re family. Hey, we never did get to drink that scotch. Want a glass?”

Scott grinned back. “Sure. I’d love one.”