Virginia Potts had been targeted by A.I.M and everyone knew it was because she was Tony's everything, not just a secretary or a lover but the woman who held the man's heart in one hand and his secrets in the other. She was the one woman who could topple an empire. It had only been a matter of time before Tony's enemies used her against him. Against them all.
The middle of the work day they struck, nearly leveling two floors of Stark International offices and taking Pepper hostage. Tony had been a madman, full of frantic energy and focused rage. It was terrifying for the Avengers, his teammates, to watch as he transformed from the enigmatic playboy who cracked wise to friend and foe alike to this focused madman who reeked of hurt and snarled like an animal that had been backed into a corner, growling and snapping at any who came near. It was maddening. Heartbreaking. And it only worsened when they managed to rescue her and found her altered, unstable, and afraid of them all. Well, everyone but Steve.
Steve, outside of his Captain America costume, they found, was the only one that Pepper seemed to remember, seemed to be able to tolerate. He didn't set her off and no one knew why! There were wild theories, of course, most of which revolved around the idea that A.I.M conditioned the reaction to be triggered by their appearance and voices both in and out of uniform, but that didn't explain why she wasn't affected by Steve once the cowl came off -- Tony had thought it was because though Steve was well known as Captain America in the history books the war hero had died during the War and S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't advertising his uncanny return to the land of the living. (Nor were they all that concerned about Miss Potts aliment other than cursorily which was both appalling and, to Tony at least, not that surprising; He didn't trust them anyway.)
Whatever A.I.M had done to her, whatever was making her violently ill, making her forget, it only seemed to affect her in the presence of the others, making her convulse like an epileptic, limbs jerking and froth forming at the edges of her mouth. It was horrifying to watch. Even more so was the desolate look in Tony's eyes when everything he tried failed time and again and Pepper, his Pepper, continued to suffer. He couldn't go near her unless she was sedated, couldn't be in the same room, couldn't talk to her. And Steve being the only one that could made him withdraw into himself and away from the others. It tore him to pieces, broke him in a way that Afghanistan and Obadiah Stane never could.
Perhaps that had been the goal and if so then then A.I.M had succeeded, but it had also ensured their completely and utter destruction. Tony Stark was not a man you wanted to have turn his full and unwavering attention upon. All that genius coupled with his fathomless anger -- There would be nothing left. But before Tony let himself fall into that pit, before he retreated to his lab and ignored anything and everything that couldn't help him exact his revenge, he made a plan: get Pepper away, keep her safe, and give him time to both destroy A.I.M and find a cure. It wasn't perfect but it was all he had, all any of them had. So Steve packed his bag, helped Pepper pack hers, and made a promise.
He was going to do everything in his power to keep Pepper safe, obligations to S.H.I.E.L.D be damned.
She supposed there were risks, being Tony's CEO, being his lover, with him being Iron Man, but Pepper wouldn't have changed it for the world, because she loved Tony, obviously, and because the team around him had become like family. All of them. And honestly? It wasn't often she felt directly threatened by the things the Avengers did--beyond the fact that Steve still couldn't work the coffee maker, and Bruce sometimes set of small explosions in his lab--she mostly spent her time flying between DC and New York and running Stark Industries. She was the face of Tony's company, completely separate from what he did with his down time.
Until, of course, she wasn't.
The time in the laboratory she doesn't remember beyond a vague sense of foreboding and random flashes of white light, doctors, and a distilled voice telling her exactly why she was there. SHIELD had done this. SHIELD had paid for her to be kidnapped, had paid for her confinement and her torture. And then the real attacks had started--
Images of the Avengers coupled with mind-splitting agony and drugs that made her writhe in pain. Each of them, plastered in front of her as everything continued in a relentless stream of ache and hurt. And Tony, always Tony, Tony more than the rest of them. Until she no longer knew what was real and what was dreaming, what reality she lived in any more, until the only truth she knew was that SHIELD and the Avengers had sent her here and the men and one woman who called themselves that team were nothing more than distorted, disfigured mockeries of humans. And they made it so that even her body couldn't handle them, that every time she was near them the panic she felt induced a chemical release that triggered the seizures--
--and somehow, Steve had escaped all of this. Steve's face, when he wasn't Captain America, had never been used by the medical teams, and so was completely disassociated in her mind. Steve she remembered as the charming man who struggled with modern technology and spent time with her at art openings. Steve wasn't a part of the evil that was SHIELD or their team of thugs, and so she could be near him, liked to, actually, because she couldn't think of anyone who could be a better friend.
And so, when Steve had told her they were going to relocate for a while, away from New York to get away from the influence of SHIELD and all that stood for, she'd agreed, whole heartily, and let him help rifle through her wardrobe in the little apartment she'd gotten near him. She couldn't remember where she lived before, but Steve assured her she didn't want to go back and she trusted him with nearly everything else, so why not that as well.
"Or France," He offered. The War had made him familiar with both, first with the USO tour and later with his active participation in the fighting. It helped that he learned the languages from native speakers, men that made up the bulk of the Howlers support if not outright core commandos.
Steve hated the idea of running away, of leaving their home and country behind to hide away like refugees in a place that would be completely foreign, but as important as home was Pepper's safety and Tony's piece of mind trumped it. He wouldn't risk either of them for the sake of his country; he'd willingly give up his citizenship if it kept the people he considered his family protected and, if not happy at least, whole.
They had left New York hours ago, heading towards Philadelphia. Steve had enough ready cash on him to secure them tickets to anywhere in the world and a couple of fake passports and I.D.s, and bank cards, that Tony had cooked up stuffed in his wallet and the inner pocket of his jacket to ensure they'd be taken care of once they got to where they were going. It was not reassuring because there was a subtle implication that once there they might be coming back. Steve decided to keep that to himself but Pepper was a smart woman, capable and so intelligent, and might already had the same thought.
"Anywhere you'd like, really, but I figured Italy sounded nice and was far enough away from -- far enough."
The middle of the work day they struck, nearly leveling two floors of Stark International offices and taking Pepper hostage. Tony had been a madman, full of frantic energy and focused rage. It was terrifying for the Avengers, his teammates, to watch as he transformed from the enigmatic playboy who cracked wise to friend and foe alike to this focused madman who reeked of hurt and snarled like an animal that had been backed into a corner, growling and snapping at any who came near. It was maddening. Heartbreaking. And it only worsened when they managed to rescue her and found her altered, unstable, and afraid of them all. Well, everyone but Steve.
Steve, outside of his Captain America costume, they found, was the only one that Pepper seemed to remember, seemed to be able to tolerate. He didn't set her off and no one knew why! There were wild theories, of course, most of which revolved around the idea that A.I.M conditioned the reaction to be triggered by their appearance and voices both in and out of uniform, but that didn't explain why she wasn't affected by Steve once the cowl came off -- Tony had thought it was because though Steve was well known as Captain America in the history books the war hero had died during the War and S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't advertising his uncanny return to the land of the living. (Nor were they all that concerned about Miss Potts aliment other than cursorily which was both appalling and, to Tony at least, not that surprising; He didn't trust them anyway.)
Whatever A.I.M had done to her, whatever was making her violently ill, making her forget, it only seemed to affect her in the presence of the others, making her convulse like an epileptic, limbs jerking and froth forming at the edges of her mouth. It was horrifying to watch. Even more so was the desolate look in Tony's eyes when everything he tried failed time and again and Pepper, his Pepper, continued to suffer. He couldn't go near her unless she was sedated, couldn't be in the same room, couldn't talk to her. And Steve being the only one that could made him withdraw into himself and away from the others. It tore him to pieces, broke him in a way that Afghanistan and Obadiah Stane never could.
Perhaps that had been the goal and if so then then A.I.M had succeeded, but it had also ensured their completely and utter destruction. Tony Stark was not a man you wanted to have turn his full and unwavering attention upon. All that genius coupled with his fathomless anger -- There would be nothing left. But before Tony let himself fall into that pit, before he retreated to his lab and ignored anything and everything that couldn't help him exact his revenge, he made a plan: get Pepper away, keep her safe, and give him time to both destroy A.I.M and find a cure. It wasn't perfect but it was all he had, all any of them had. So Steve packed his bag, helped Pepper pack hers, and made a promise.
He was going to do everything in his power to keep Pepper safe, obligations to S.H.I.E.L.D be damned.
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Until, of course, she wasn't.
The time in the laboratory she doesn't remember beyond a vague sense of foreboding and random flashes of white light, doctors, and a distilled voice telling her exactly why she was there. SHIELD had done this. SHIELD had paid for her to be kidnapped, had paid for her confinement and her torture. And then the real attacks had started--
Images of the Avengers coupled with mind-splitting agony and drugs that made her writhe in pain. Each of them, plastered in front of her as everything continued in a relentless stream of ache and hurt. And Tony, always Tony, Tony more than the rest of them. Until she no longer knew what was real and what was dreaming, what reality she lived in any more, until the only truth she knew was that SHIELD and the Avengers had sent her here and the men and one woman who called themselves that team were nothing more than distorted, disfigured mockeries of humans. And they made it so that even her body couldn't handle them, that every time she was near them the panic she felt induced a chemical release that triggered the seizures--
--and somehow, Steve had escaped all of this. Steve's face, when he wasn't Captain America, had never been used by the medical teams, and so was completely disassociated in her mind. Steve she remembered as the charming man who struggled with modern technology and spent time with her at art openings. Steve wasn't a part of the evil that was SHIELD or their team of thugs, and so she could be near him, liked to, actually, because she couldn't think of anyone who could be a better friend.
And so, when Steve had told her they were going to relocate for a while, away from New York to get away from the influence of SHIELD and all that stood for, she'd agreed, whole heartily, and let him help rifle through her wardrobe in the little apartment she'd gotten near him. She couldn't remember where she lived before, but Steve assured her she didn't want to go back and she trusted him with nearly everything else, so why not that as well.
"Italy, you said?"
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Steve hated the idea of running away, of leaving their home and country behind to hide away like refugees in a place that would be completely foreign, but as important as home was Pepper's safety and Tony's piece of mind trumped it. He wouldn't risk either of them for the sake of his country; he'd willingly give up his citizenship if it kept the people he considered his family protected and, if not happy at least, whole.
They had left New York hours ago, heading towards Philadelphia. Steve had enough ready cash on him to secure them tickets to anywhere in the world and a couple of fake passports and I.D.s, and bank cards, that Tony had cooked up stuffed in his wallet and the inner pocket of his jacket to ensure they'd be taken care of once they got to where they were going. It was not reassuring because there was a subtle implication that once there they might be coming back. Steve decided to keep that to himself but Pepper was a smart woman, capable and so intelligent, and might already had the same thought.
"Anywhere you'd like, really, but I figured Italy sounded nice and was far enough away from -- far enough."
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