Chapter 18

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Wanda POV

"JARVIS, give us the rundown of what's happening," Stark said, drinking a sip of...something that I couldn't identify. It looked like coke.

"There are four robbers on the run in the centre of Manhattan. Mr Rhodes and Mr Wilson were chosen specifically because of their flying capabilities." I didn't question why I wasn't chosen. We needed to let the press die down before I went on any missions again, especially ones right in the centre of the city. However, someone did question the A.I.

"And why wasn't I chosen?" Stark asked, throwing his arms out to the sides. A small portion of his drink slipped out of the glass and onto the floor, but he didn't notice.

"I think you know why, Sir," JARVIS said in a hushed voice. He almost sounded sympathetic.

Stark muttered something to himself as he poured his drink down the sink and left the glass there. He didn't say anything else as he walked away, leaving us with no explanation. I looked around the room, seeing everyone's confused expressions. Natasha was the only one who didn't seem to be. "Shit," she whispered and shook her head.

"Do you know what that was about, Nat?" Clint asked, looking to his partner. Why couldn't Stark go on the mission with the others? It did seem a bit odd. Had he done something?

She walked over to the sink to pick up the empty glass he had and brought it over to Clint. "Smell it," she instructed. Clint looked at her sceptically before following her order. He inched his nose towards the glass and sniffed. He sneered, immediately pulling away from it, before gravely looking up at Natasha. I didn't like it when Clint got worried.

"Whiskey," he concluded and Natasha nodded. I looked at the glass and frowned at the small amount of liquid left in it.

"Whiskey?" I said again.

"It's an alcoholic drink," Clint explained and I shook my head.

"I know what it is, but why is he drinking it?" The room was silent as the others looked at each other. Even James seemed to know what was going on. I frowned at them all, not like being left out of the loop. "Well, are you going to tell me?"

Clint sighed, pulling his hand down his face as if to take of some kind of mask. "Stark is, at least we thought, a recovering alcoholic."

I looked at him and then back at the glass. "Oh," I whispered, watching a drop slowly slide down the inside of the glass.

"It's been kept out of the papers, played off as his playboy and carefree party attitude if it was questioned, but it's actually a serious problem for him. Drinking in the mornings is what he used to do," Natasha said, picking up the glass and taking it back to the sink. "It's definitely a warning sign."

"Do you think Potts knows he's back on it?" James asked. I was surprised he got involved in the conversation, but I was glad he did. To me, it showed how he was becoming more social. I liked how he felt comfortable enough to be involved in a conversation with the others. I remember when I knocked into him in the kitchen and he barely said a word. Thinking about it, I don't think he said a word at all.

"I don't know, but she needs to," I answered, thinking about how Pepper would take the news. Poor woman, she had to deal with so much and he would definitely need regular help from his problem.

"We need to talk to him," Clint said, but Natasha shook her head.

"We'll wait for Rhodes to get back. He's the closest to him. Tony will just feel attacked otherwise," she explained. "For now, we just need to subtly observe what he drinks and not say anything."

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