Chapter 52

Early September, 2016

Avengers Facility

About a week had passed since the emergency mission – it had all gone off without a hitch, and Tony and Vision had been back by breakfast the next day without a scratch. It seemed a disgruntled scientist with visions of becoming the next Iron Man had built some kind of mechanized armor and attacked his workplace. Luckily the incident was domestic, so the Accords Committee had given the Avengers approval to mobilize in no time at all.

Maggie was glad that the system had worked, but the reminder that her brother was on the front line against whatever and whoever decided to threaten the planet had shaken her. She'd done some digging with F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s help, and come across some… whispers.

Whispers was the best way to describe what she found, because it wasn't facts, or data. Just rumors, really. Rumors of a group of vigilante warriors who hit hard and fast in the shadows of criminal activity, and then vanished. They were seemingly impervious to international borders and regulation, and they didn't make a lot of noise. Intelligence agencies were too caught up with the Accords and the fallout from Zemo's plots to really look to deeply into what was happening.

She suspected the Avengers knew something about it, though – one night as she watched the news with Rhodey, there was a story about a human trafficking ring that had been dismantled in one night in 'mysterious circumstances'. Rhodey shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and changed the channel.

Maggie didn't say anything out loud, not even to herself. But she was pretty sure she knew who was behind the whispers – it seemed the fugitive Avengers weren't done saving the world.

She couldn't do anything about it though, apart from worry about her one-time teammates and about her brother. She'd focused on making the most of her meetings with Dr Nguyen. Today, Maggie was finally opening up about her trigger words.

"The thing is," she murmured, tugging at the bright purple putty Dr Nguyen provided to keep her hands busy, "I might have a real chance at deactivating them. The only problem is that that chance is an electronic vault of data and videos of what they did to me."

Dr Nguyen had been silent as Maggie explained her trigger words, save for a clarifying question here or there, but she seemed to see that Maggie needed a little prompting. "And you don't feel you're ready for that?"

Maggie huffed a laugh. "It's like my own personal Pandora's box. If I go looking I might find a way to get rid of my trigger words once and for all, but in the process…" she swallowed.

"What are you afraid of finding?"

Her fingers tore into the putty. "I'm afraid of finding exactly what's already in my memories. I remember most of what they did to me and that… just that is enough to give me enough nightmares for a lifetime. I don't know if I could handle reliving those things through their perspective. Because that's what it would be – their notes, their reports, their freaking asset analysis. Chief Scientist Sanders was the one in charge of all the experiments and she… she didn't see me as a person. None of them did. Most of my memories of her involve her testing my physical limits until I screamed, and then she'd jot down her observations on a clipboard." She shivered. "I only just started being a person, I don't know if I'm ready to go trawling through a bunch of data that refers to me as a weapon. But…" her face twisted. "That makes me feel like a coward. That I won't even look at the data, when there's a chance it could fix me."

Dr Nguyen leaned forward at that. "You set your limits, Maggie," she urged, her voice low. "From the sounds of it you don't know that anyone knows your trigger words, and it would be near impossible for anyone to get to you, as it is. Furthermore, we're both very aware of all the security measures in place in case the worst should happen." Maggie's fingers still twisted and pulled at the putty, but she was listening intently to Dr Nguyn.

The doctor met her eyes. "You are perfectly within your rights to decide you're not ready to read material that would no doubt be highly traumatic for you. As your psychiatrist, I strongly agree that would be a bad idea. So stay the course, Maggie. Take things at your own time. And I want you to understand that you're not a coward. Far from it."

She blinked at Dr Nguyen – normally the doctor wasn't quite so passionate. She usually calmly provided options and talked through them with Maggie.

"Okay," she said, surprised. But then another twist of guilt hit, and she glanced away. "I guess I also feel like I'm letting Bucky down." She sensed the other woman straighten. "He's who knows where, missing an arm and probably just as scared of his trigger words as I am of mine. If I look at that data, then maybe I can help him as well."

Dr Nguyen leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "I don't know Bucky," she said softly, "but I think you know him very well. Would he want you to do something you feel so uncomfortable about?"

Maggie could almost hear him: Don't do anything stupid on my account, doll. She smiled sadly. "No."

"He sounds like a smart man," Dr Nguyen said wryly.

Maggie squeezed her eyes shut. "I miss him. It doesn't feel real, that I might not see him again. We spent time apart before – not as long as this, but it still feels like this is temporary. Like we'll meet up in a safehouse in a few days time and it won't hurt any more." She'd spoken about Bucky before, lots of times. Dr Nguyen and Vision were really the only ones she could confide in about this. Tony knew about her relationship with Bucky, of course, but they didn't talk about it. They weren't ready for that. "I don't know where he is, who he's with, how he's doing. It's scary."

Dr Nguyen's voice was kind, when she next spoke. "What you're feeling is perfectly natural. And even though I'm technically being employed by the Avengers, and I'm aware of the political situation…" she hesitated, and Maggie opened her eyes to see the doctor looking conflicted. Eventually, Dr Nguyen spread her hands and shrugged. "I just want to remind you that it's a big world, Maggie. And you've got time."

Maggie left the session feeling raw and vulnerable, like an exposed nerve. Tony picked her up from outside the office, but he sensed her mood and didn't push.

"Back to your room?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Maggie's jaw clenched. She knew she ought to rest after the harrowing session, but she felt like she might go crazy if she was left alone in her cell. So she shook her head. "Workshop," she muttered. Maybe she could work off the jitters, drown her mind in work.

Tony looked skeptical, but he shrugged and led the way to the workshop. They walked in silence, but Maggie could tell that Tony's attention was focused on her, aware of her every movement and breath. Normally the protectiveness would make her smile, but now it just set her on edge. Her mind was conjuring demons that might be lurking in the electronic vault waiting for her.

When they arrived, Maggie didn't smile at the Antirhodos sign over the workshop doors as she normally did. She was too focused on getting in amongst the unfeeling machines and forgetting herself. Tony let her go, moving to his workbench. He didn't start work just yet, though, because Maggie wasn't heading for the B.A.R.F. setup or anything else she was working on at the moment. No, she'd grabbed a toolbox and a welding setup and carried it to the bench up the back corner of the workshop, where her wings lay. Tony's eyebrows hiked up his forehead. She didn't look back at him though – she pulled off the canvas covering, rolled a chair up to the bench, and got to work on repairing her wings.

Tony watched her work in silence. She'd looked at her wings from time to time, but she hadn't even spoken about potentially fixing them. He could see she wasn't going near the completely torn wing just yet, focusing on superficial rips and dents, but even that was a pretty big step. Her shoulders were set, determined, and her lips were pressed in a thin line. Tony scratched his chin. Therapy, huh.

He supposed Ross would have a thing or two to say about Maggie fixing her wings, but he frankly couldn't give a damn. It wasn't like he was letting her fly off into the sunset, this was just… constructive tinkering. He shrugged to himself, and turned to his own work.

It was only half an hour later, however, that Tony frowned and looked up. At first he wasn't sure what caught his attention, until he realized that he hadn't heard a sound from the other side of the workshop in a while. Sure enough, Maggie was motionless over her wings. Her back was to him, but he could see that she was holding a welding torch a few inches over her wings, unmoving. Her head was bowed, and her chest rose and fell in short, sharp bursts.

"Maggie?"

She didn't respond.

"Maggot?" Tony got to his feet, suddenly tense, and padded across the workshop. Dum-E had sensed something was up and dogged his footsteps, whirring lowly. At the other side of the workshop Tony tried to squeeze around the side of the bench, but it was pretty well tucked into the corner.

"Earth to Maggie?" He could see the side of her face now – she was staring wide-eyed down at her wings, but she didn't seem to really be seeing them. Her face was pale, and her jaw was clenched.

"Hey," Tony said in a lower voice, and reached out to rest a gentle hand on her back. "Do you want me to call-"

The second his hand made contact with Maggie's back she exploded from her seat with a scream. Before Tony knew what was happening she'd slammed his hand against the metal bench with a metallic clang, and dove away – she didn't account for Dum-E, however, and the two of them went sprawling in with a resounding crash.

Tony whirled around with his hands raised, but Maggie wasn't attacking any more. She scrambled to her feet and clutched her head, and Tony's eyes widened when he saw the look on her face. It was clear that she didn't know where she was, maybe not even who she was: her eyes were wild, darting around, her face twisted in pain and fear. She caught sight of him and stumbled backwards, tripping over machinery and table legs.

"Whoah, Maggie," Tony breathed, hands held up and his heart pounding, "it's okay, it's me-" he took a step forward and she sucked in a sharp breath.

"Don't touch me!" she sobbed, holding up one shaking hand as if to ward him off. Tony froze, only able to watch as his disoriented, weeping sister stumbled through his workshop.

His mind was reeling, thinking through everything he knew about disassociation and trauma. Before he could come up with a plan to bring Maggie back to herself, the walls and windows of the workshop frosted over, the clear glass becoming opaque, and F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s digital, Irish-accented voice filled the workshop.

"Your name is Margaret Stark," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, her voice pitched low. "You are safe, you are in Tony Stark's workshop at the Avengers Facility, in Upstate New York. I am F.R.I.D.A.Y., Tony Stark's A.I. It is September 4th, 2016. You are safe, the boss is safe. It's alright, Ms Stark."

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. first spoke Maggie had flinched, her eyes somehow going wider, but as the A.I. laid out the facts in her calm, measured voice, recognition filtered into Maggie's face and she stopped trying to get away. When the A.I. finished, Maggie let out a rush of breath and sank to the floor.

Tony was still frozen by the bench in the corner, his hands outstretched and his eyes wide. Dum-E was on the ground, his claw angled backwards so he could see Maggie. The workshop was suddenly very, very quiet.

"Okay," Tony said, and Maggie's eyes flicked up to him. She looked exhausted, her face haggard and sweaty, her clothes and hair in disarray. "That was intense. Are you okay?" he asked.

Maggie's face crumpled, and she hid it in her hands. "I'm so sorry," she managed to say through her fingers. The words were muffled by tears. "Oh god, I'm so sorry Tony."

"It's okay," he breathed, still a little shocked. "Can I come over there?"

She nodded, face still hidden in her hands. Tony immediately went to her, taking slow steps even though he wanted to rush. Dum-E bleeped indignantly at being left on the floor.

Tony cautiously knelt on the ground a few feet away from Maggie. She was half-slumped against his workbench, her legs boneless on the ground and her face buried in her hands. He noticed that her chest was heaving with silent sobs, and his heart sank.

"Maggie, I'm sorry," he croaked. He reached out, thought better of it, and snatched his hand back. He winced – that was the hand Maggie had hit, and it ached every time he moved it.

She shook her head and dragged her hands away. Her eyes were swimming with tears and her face was splotchy. "It's not your fault," she said, voice trembling. "It's mine, I should have-"

He shook his head emphatically. "It's not your fault, don't be stupid. Do you want to talk about it?" He'd never seen her look so distraught – when she'd been baring her soul to him and Pepper she'd been angry, lashing out. After Siberia she'd just been… blank. But this was something new, the way she'd seemed so lost and terrified as she lurched through his workshop.

Maggie swallowed, taking deep breaths in through her nose, out through her mouth. He recognized that breathing pattern, it was the same he forced himself into to stop himself from having a panic attack.

"I should," she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. "If you don't mind."

"Do I-" he stared at her. "Of course I don't mind!"

Maggie's eyes opened and she watched him blearily. Then her eyes tracked down to where he was clutching his right wrist tenderly. The color drained from her face.

"I hurt you," she whispered, her voice hoarse. Her eyes widened, and she suddenly looked as if she was going to be sick.

Tony flung his hands out again, concealing his wince. "It's okay!" he said, catching her gaze and holding it. "Seriously, it's fine, see?" He shook his right hand at her, grimaced when he realized it hurt a bit more than he'd thought, and then shuffled a bit closer. Her eyes dropped away, filled with shame, but he snapped his fingers and she looked back up. "Honestly, I hurt myself worse all the time, this is nothing compared to the first time I trialed the walk-through disassembly station for the armor. So just… chill out. Let's just calm down, and talk about this."

Maggie didn't seem all that convinced, but she took another deep breath, eyes fixed on his. He nodded at her.

"Okay, great. Now am I going to help you if I touch you right now, or make things worse?"

She wrapped her arms around herself, thinking. She looked so young like this, shaky and small on the floor. "Help," she whispered. "I think."

"Awesome," he said, and then shuffled close enough to sit beside her on the floor. He leaned back against his workbench and wrapped one arm around her. She tensed up, but then settled again, letting the warmth of his arm soak into her skin.

"Sorry," she murmured again, reaching up to wipe away her tears.

"I'm gonna say this one more time: totally fine. Don't worry about it. This has happened before, huh?"

She sniffed and gave him a questioning look.

He gestured at the ceiling. "That isn't F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s standard operating procedure. I'm assuming you asked her to say that if anything went wrong."

Maggie shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah. I haven't had one that bad in… in a while, though." Her face twisted. "Every time I think I'm done with it, I push myself too far, and…" she spread her hands, gesturing to her current situation.

Tony squeezed her into his side. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "There was therapy, which was hard enough, but then…" she swallowed. "Fixing the wings, I just… I thought it'd be fine, because I've worked on them plenty of times since HYDRA, but something about it today just… brought me back. Making the wings, being… empty."

Tony's brow furrowed. "And then I touched your back. Shit."

"Not your fault," she murmured. "But it… for a second I thought you were them, about to cut me open, and I… reacted. And I lost touch with where I was."

Tony nodded, his heart heavy. The adrenaline was wearing off and his wrist was starting to hurt a lot more – he didn't think it was broken, just sprained, but that would have to go on the backburner for now. Maggie was pressed against his side from shoulder to hip, and her whole body was shaking.

"Y'know," he said after a few moments of silence. "I get panic attacks."

She blinked and turned her head to look at him. "You do?"

His free hand came up to tap a rhythm against his chest. "Ever since New York happened. Bad ones, too. First time it happened I thought I'd been poisoned – it felt like I was dying." Maggie leaned into him, listening quietly. "I ended up getting a therapist of my own, working through it. I'm better nowadays, though I still get bad ones from time to time." He stared at the far wall, still tapping his chest. "Sucks, huh?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, curling her knees toward her chest. "Sucks."

Tony tipped his head back, one arm still wrapped around her. "How'd you do it, back when you first got out? Can't have been easy."

Maggie tensed a little, but she didn't pull away. "I think you know the answer to that," she murmured, watching his face.

Oh, right.

There was a long silence, but not necessarily an angry one. That was progress, maybe.

"He used to get them too," she said, voice so low that he wouldn't have been able to hear her if he wasn't right next to her. Tony's eyes closed. "He'd forget who he was. Had nightmares. Sometimes he'd think he was back in the war, falling from a train. Sometimes he thought he was still with Zola, strapped to a table." Tony's jaw clenched, but he didn't stop her. Maggie saw the obvious conflict on his face, though, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just… it wasn't easy, but it'd have been near impossible without him. But I shouldn't put that on you, I'll be quiet now."

Tony didn't open his eyes, but he also didn't pull his arm away. They sat together in silence.

Then Dum-E let out a loud beep that made them both jump. "Oh god," Maggie said, pulling away from Tony and scrambling to her feet. "Dum-E, I'm sorry!"

Tony climbed to his feet as well, and watched as his sister fussed over the tipped-over robot, checking his wiring and hinges and then pulling him upright as if he weighed nothing. Dum-E was a little indignant at having been left alone so long, but he wasn't one to hold grudges – within seconds he was grabbing at Maggie's clothes again, poking and prodding her as if checking for injuries. She sniffed, and his claw shot up to her face, whirring at the tear-soaked skin he found there. She batted him away, smiling, and Tony cocked his head at her.

"Feeling better?"

She fended off another of Dum-E's grabs, and looked over at Tony. "I'll be okay. Can I stay here?"

"Does the Pope wear a funny hat?"

Maggie blinked.

"Wait, don't tell me you've never seen the Pope."

Her face twisted. "I know what a Pope is…"

"Christ Almighty. F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Picture of the Pope, stat." As the hologram came up, Tony walked toward Maggie and carefully wrapped his arm around her shoulders again. "You can stay, Maggot, but I'd give the wings a rest for today. Let's do something fun."

That evening, Pepper walked into the workshop and stopped dead at what she found. The workshop speakers, meant to be used for F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice interface, were blasting rap music. Maggie was standing on top of Tony's workbench, dressed in a bright yellow hazmat suit minus the helmet, dancing to the beat and – was she singing? Pepper blinked and realized that Maggie was perfectly keeping up with the rapper, words flying a mile-a-minute out of her mouth as she danced in her hazmat suit.

Tony, Dum-E, and U were her audience. Dum-E and U were wrapped in caution tape, their claws nodding to the music, and Tony was doubled over laughing as his sister sang along to the chorus now, her arms spread wide and her voice clear. Tony had a bandage wrapped around his right wrist, but the end had come loose and was stained with something that looked like cordial.

Pepper stood in the doorway for the rest of the song, which Maggie ended by springing into a handstand on top of the workbench, the baggy hazmat suit slumping over her face.

Tony shot off his stool and gave her a standing ovation, which Pepper joined him in after a moment of shock. Maggie heard the extra set of hands and neatly flipped off the table, landing on both feet and looking around for the newcomer. Her face was flushed and her hair was strewn all over her face. She looked young, and happy, and Pepper couldn't help the smile that spread across her own face at the sight of it.

"Hey, Pepper," Maggie smiled.

She didn't get a chance to reply because Tony, still laughing, smacked the bench and gasped: "How do you know how all the words? Why do you?"

Maggie shrugged, grinning, and pushed the suit sleeves up to her elbows. "I like the song. And I've got a good memory."

Pepper shook her head fondly, smiling at the odd performance she'd walked into. "And why are you wearing a hazmat suit?"

Maggie turned to face her. "Oh this is my rap persona, Slim Plutonium. Dum-E and U are my backup singers." She gestured to the caution-tape-wrapped robots, who beeped simultaneously.

Pepper shook her head again. "Well I'd ask why, but if you're anything like Tony then I know there's usually no good reason. I came to ask if you guys wanted dinner?"

Tony and Maggie simultaneously turned to the clock, blinking at the time.

"Oh, right," Maggie said. "Uh, yeah, I'm starving." She shoved her sleeves up again and walked to the door, but Pepper held up a finger.

"You're not wearing a hazmat suit to dinner."

Maggie grinned. "Depends what's for dinner."

"Your dinner is not a biochemical threat."

Tony snorted, and Maggie reluctantly stripped off the suit. Once the siblings had freed the robots from the caution tape and left the workshop, Pepper fell into step beside them.

"So you guys had a good day, then?" she asked wryly.

Maggie and Tony shared a glance.

"Yeah," Tony eventually answered. "Yeah, we did."

Ross hadn't forgotten about Maggie. He visited the facility at least once every two weeks, in the name of 'monitoring progress'. It usually meant he wandered around making Avengers staff very uncomfortable, and visited Maggie in her cell to hold the threat of imprisonment at the Raft over her head. Tony kept up his usual unflappable façade, but Maggie could tell that the visits bothered him. And she didn't fail to notice that whenever Ross came by he would come to her cell to make threats, and then would go to Tony to ask him to do something or other for the Accords Committee. She didn't like the pattern at all.

Ross didn't do nothing, however. He made good on his promise to the public to gather information, bringing in investigators from the CIA, FBI, JTTF and even NATO. Separately, of course. Each time a new investigator arrived Maggie was brought to one of the facility's many meeting rooms to give an account of her time in HYDRA, and her role in the events in Germany. She gave them the facts; detailing missions, handlers, victims, crimes. It was exhausting, particularly when they asked question after question. They all wanted to know more about how she'd been controlled, and about the minute details of her various missions. Half the time she didn't know the significance of one victim over another, but she hoped they did. She hoped they would give her victims' families more information.

Each interview was exhausting. She wasn't allowed to have Tony, Rhodey, Pepper or Vision in the room with her, so it was just her and a group of suits, delving into the specifics of the worst years of her life. Usually the investigators were wary of her, flinching at her barest movement. Others spoke to her like a child, their words dripping with condescension. Others were professional, respectful. They were the rarest ones, but Maggie was endlessly appreciative of them. Each account was difficult, and yet she couldn't make herself skim over details, couldn't conceal the truth. It might have been easier if she did, but she was, as Tony had said, a very honest person.

Dr Nguyen wasn't happy about the interviews, but she didn't have any authority to stop them, so she gave Maggie techniques to keep calm in the face of pointed questions, and they talked through whatever new traumas had been unearthed each week.

Tony saw the toll the interviews took on Maggie, but he didn't have any power to stop them either. And once every two weeks Ross would stalk around Maggie's cell and talk about terrorism charges or 24 hour psychiatric monitoring, and then he'd go to Tony and ask him to come to some pro-Accords event or press conference, or to accept a certain mission, and the cycle would go on.

The Avengers were wound tightly, and Maggie felt as if some heavy doom was hanging over her head, moments from dropping. She wondered how long she had. She wondered if she could bear the weight.

Early September, 2016

Avengers Facility, Upstate New York

"If you glare any harder at that TV, it's going to explode."

Maggie jumped, and turned to Pepper. They were sitting on one of the Avengers common room couches, watching coverage of the Avengers' latest mission in South America. Pepper was tense, but she was used to waiting for Tony to come back from missions, and she had a routine: she was painting her toes and drinking a smoothie, waiting for her face mask to dry. She was wearing yoga pants and a loose t-shirt, and her long auburn hair was twisted into a knot on top of her head.

Maggie had declined the smoothie, the face mask, and the nail polish, too focused on the TV.

"I'm not glaring," she protested, rubbing her arm and turning back to the TV. The Avengers were fighting a corrupt militia in Venezuela. This was Rhodey's second mission in the field, after a successful round of trial runs in his new suit. The reporters on the ground weren't able to keep up with all the action, but Maggie saw enough shots of heavy artillery and advanced tech to make her nervous.

"Maybe not glaring," Pepper conceded. "But something's bothering you."

Maggie gestured at the TV. "How do you do this? Cope with the stress of waiting for them to come back?"

Pepper put down her nail polish with a clink, and her eyes flicked up to the TV. Vision was standing amidst a hail of bullets, turning admonishing eyes on the militia members.

"Well," Pepper began. "For a long time, I didn't cope. But… I realized that Tony is going to do this. He's hardwired to save the world, and that's a part of him that I couldn't change if I wanted to. He knows that it can't be his one sole drive in life, which is how we make a relationship work, but it's still hard."

Maggie twisted her fingers together, her knee bouncing anxiously. "I'm not good at waiting. I wish I could be out there, making sure the mission is a success, instead of just being… helpless." After a second, she turned to Pepper and winced. "Sorry."

Pepper waved a hand, leaning back on the couch and taking another sip of her smoothie. "Don't worry about it, I know what you mean. Would you really want that? To get back into the fight?"

She blinked. "I… yeah. Yeah, I would."

"Even after…?" Pepper drew her feet up onto the couch, curling in on herself, and gave Maggie her full attention.

"Most of the fighting I've done in my life has been… for the wrong people. The wrong reasons." Maggie swallowed, frowning at the memories. "I've only had a few chances to fight for the right thing, and it… it felt good. Like it's what I'm meant to be doing."

Pepper smiled. "Like your brother, then."

Maggie returned the smile. "He's done a better job at being a hero than I could ever hope to."

They both turned to watch the TV screen, where Iron Man was raining down EMPs on the well-equipped militia. The fight was loud, bursting with explosions, and each new volley of gunfire or scream made the tension in Maggie's gut curl tighter.

After a long moment, Pepper spoke again. "Maybe one day you'll get to do that again. Be a hero."

She huffed a laugh. "I doubt it."

A guttural boom emanated from the TV, and the shaky handheld-camera footage caught a flash of red and gold hurtling out of the sky. Maggie shot out of her seat and stared as the red-and-gold blur disappeared, and the fighting seemed to amp up. She saw Vision soar across the screen, shooting golden beams from his forehead, and War Machine laying down covering fire. But she didn't see Iron Man.

"Where is he," she breathed, eyes glued to the screen. Pepper appeared by her side. Her hand slipped into Maggie's.

"He'll be okay," Pepper said, her voice thready. She still had the sticky green mask on her face. "If he's not, I'll kick his ass."

Maggie laughed despite herself. She and Pepper stood side-by-side and hand-in-hand in front of the TV for the rest of the fight, eyes fixed to the shaky, blurry footage. When the news crew got a shot of Iron Man walking onto the Quinjet at the end of it all, scorched and dusty, both women let out simultaneous breaths of relief and reached for each other. Maggie buried her face in Pepper's shoulder and breathed out. The other woman smelt like peppermint and cucumber, and she was stronger than Maggie had expected, clutching her as if her life depended on it.

"Okay," Pepper said, pulling away. There were tear tracks in her face mask, but Maggie didn't mention it. "Okay, I'm going to go have a martini. You want one?"

"Yes, please."

When the Avengers returned a few hours later, Pepper was tipsy but hiding it remarkably well. Except the Avengers didn't debrief and come to the common room as they usually did. Instead only Rhodey appeared, his face grim. He took in Maggie and Pepper's expectant faces, and the lines on his face only deepened.

"You'd better come with me," he said.

Maggie's stomach dropped. "What happened?" She shot to her feet, closely followed by Pepper, and bounded across the room to Rhodey.

He held up his hands. "Tony got hit by an anti-aircraft missile-" the blood drained from Maggie's face so he was quick to add – "he's okay! F.R.I.D.A.Y. ran his vitals while he was in the suit and she said he'd be okay, but I figured you'd want to be there."

Pepper grabbed Maggie's arm, more for support than anything else. Maggie turned to her, and saw that the other woman's face was grim and determined. "Lead the way, Rhodey."

As they walked to the medical wing, going as fast as Rhodey's exo-suit could take him, Rhodey explained what had happened. "The militia had way better tech than the intel led us to believe. We didn't think they had anything capable of actually affecting the armor until he got hit. He managed to get back into the fight to end it, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. said the blast ruptured his spleen and caused some internal bleeding. The doctors were taking a look at him when I left."

Maggie's hands were shaking. She thought the armor was meant to be impenetrable, how could a black market weapon do so much damage? But she kept her face blank and her body steady as they walked to the medical wing, keeping herself from breaking into a run because Rhodey was leading the way and Pepper still had a death-grip on her arm. She was used to concealing her feelings.

When they finally burst through the med-bay doors, they found Tony lying on a sterile white hospital bed, shirtless and covered in bruises. Dr Helen Cho stood by his head as a nurse cleaned various abrasions across his torso. Vision stood in the corner, looking at a holographic array of scans. Everyone looked up when the newcomers entered, and Tony gave them a sheepish grin.

"So it seems the armor's abdominal plating could do with some reinforcement."

"Oh my god," Pepper said, her voice shaky, and released Maggie to rush across the med-bay to Tony. "Are you okay?"

Dr Cho cleared her throat. "He'll be okay, the rupture isn't serious. He needs a blood transfusion, a few hours in the Cradle and then some rest. We're just setting it up now."

Pepper let out a breath and leaned down to kiss Tony. Rhodey went to join Vision.

Maggie was still standing in the doorway, staring at the scene before her. Tony was smiling up at Pepper, already cracking jokes, but his body told a different story. She could see where the missile had hit – ground zero was his upper left abdomen, a deep purple epicentre of bruises that radiated outwards. His whole left side was swollen. There were abrasions and cuts across his abdomen and chest, where the armor must have scraped his skin. She also noticed a pearly white ring of scarring where his arc reactor used to be. Her eyes flicked to the holographic array in the corner of the room, where the scans showed the trauma that Tony's body had taken.

Each bruise and bloody gash turned Maggie's stomach. Tony seemed larger than life sometimes – he acted like he was invincible, and she had started to believe it. But here was the evidence to the contrary. Her chest felt tight.

Maggie swallowed and tuned back into the conversation between Tony, Pepper and the doctor in time to hear Dr Cho telling Tony that the supply of blood he kept on-hand at the facility had gotten low.

"Take my blood," Maggie blurted out, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. They all stared at her for a few seconds.

Dr Cho was the first one to recover. "I'm not certain that would be wise, given your… enhancements." Dr Cho hadn't been on the team that had assessed Maggie when she first arrived at the facility, but they had met since. She was professional and yet friendly, something that Maggie appreciated.

Rhodey cocked his head. "Cap gave Barton blood that one time and nothing bad happened then."

"Maggie and Mr Stark do share the same blood type," Vision added. When everyone looked away from him, he caught Maggie's eye and nodded once.

Tony, who had been staring at Maggie with a look of consternation on his face, shook his head. "Maggie, you don't have to do that-"

"Well I'm going to," she interrupted. She finally moved, striding across the room and making herself comfortable in the plastic seat by the bed. She rolled up her sleeves, kicked her feet up on the edge of Tony's bed, and then stared down Dr Cho until she nodded her permission with a sigh. The nurse started prepping a transfusion bag.

Pepper came over to put her hand on Maggie's shoulder, and Maggie smiled up at her. But when the nurse came over with the needle, she tensed up and gently pulled Pepper's hand away. "Thank you," she murmured. "But I'm not great with needles, and I need to not feel like I'm being held down."

"Sorry, of course," Pepper gave her a watery smile, then went back to hold Tony's hand. Tony was still watching Maggie with a furrowed brow, but he didn't say anything.

Maggie didn't look at the needle as it took her blood. She didn't look at anyone else in the room, and she certainly didn't look at Tony, with his bruised, breakable body. She stared out the med-bay windows, watching a squad of Avengers agents run drills on the grass. She hated the feeling of the metal in her flesh, in her veins, and the subtle sounds of machinery whirring and latex snapping. It sent chills down her spine.

But if this was how she could help her brother, there wasn't a person on earth who could stop her.

Maggie stayed silent in the plastic chair as Tony got the blood transfusion, and was moved into the Cradle. Tony on the other hand didn't shut up, and generally annoyed everyone until it was just him and Maggie in the room. For a few minutes the only sounds were the soft whirring and clicks of the Cradle as it worked away at Tony's abdomen. He lay on his back with his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

"You okay, Maggie?" he asked.

Maggie dragged her eyes away from the window and turned to look at her brother, ankles crossed and seemingly at ease after he'd almost died.

"You don't have to keep doing this," she murmured.

He gestured at the Cradle's blue light. "Well Dr Cho said I've got at least another thirty minutes, so…"

"No, I mean…" she sighed, her head tipping back until she was looking at the ceiling too. "I mean fighting. I know you retired after Ultron, you got out. You don't have to start again just because… because the others are gone."

She heard the squeak of hospital sheets as Tony's head swiveled to look at her. She turned and met his eyes for the first time since she'd entered the room, and her heart thudded when she saw the gravity in his expression.

He sighed. "Who else is going to do it?"

And Maggie desperately wanted to say me, but she couldn't. So she stayed silent, curled up in her chair, watching a machine put her brother back together.