𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 | P. Parker

Chapter 4 - Sneezes Are No Fun

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Two months later

An orange Audi pulled up in front of the Avengers compound. Tony Stark hopped out the sports car dressed in a simple shirt and bomber jacket and his name brand sunglasses. He looked at the Avengers logo and sighed, taking off his glasses.

Tony then went inside to visit his buddy, James Rhodes.

"It's just the first pass," Tony said as he has Rhodey lean on him.

Tony designed and made a walker to help Rhodey with, well, walking. No, it's not one of those grandma walkers that has tennis balls, but a sophisticated one that is more of a brace for his legs than anything. It's a cool black metal with blue lights at the joints.

"Yeah," said Rhodey as he clung onto Tony's shoulder and the metal bar to walk.

"Give me some feedback, anything you think of. Shock absorption, lateral movement," he listed off. "Cup holder?" he suggested with a small smile.

"You may wanna think about some AC down in-" Rhodey's sentence gets cut off when he fell as the metal bar ran out of bar. He caught himself before he could faceplant.

Tony offered his hand. "Here. Let me help you."

"No. Don't help me," he refused, putting his hand up to stop Tony. He rolled over to sit on the ground, a light layer of sweat on his face. "A hundred and thirty-eight. A hundred and thirty-eight combat missions. That's how many I've flown, Tony. Every one of them could've been my last, but I flew them. Because the fight needed to be fought. It's the same with these Accords. I signed because it was the right thing to do. And yeah, this sucks. This is, uh, this is a bad beat. But it hasn't changed my mind. I don't think." Rhodey looked up at Tony with a small smile.

Throughout when Rhodey was speaking, Tony listened. He offered his hand and pulled his best friend up. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Rhodes panted a little, the sweat rolling down his forehead.

Knocking is heard on the window. Both men look over to see an very old man with a mustache dressed in a FedEx uniform holding a package. "Uh, are you Tony. . ." the old man read the labeling on the package again "Stank?"

"Yes, this is Tony Stank," Rhodey assured with a grin as he pointed at Tony. "You're in the right place. Thank you for that!" Tony rolled his eyes at his friend's words. "Never dropping that, by the way. 'Table for one, Mr. Stank. Please, by the bathroom'."

Tony chuckled at his friend's antics, amused by it all. He then took the box from the old man. His mind had a spark of a hint of recognition, but he just can't place it. He took the box to his office and the compound and opened it.

Inside the box was a letter and phone. He read the letter first.

          Tony, I'm glad you're back at the compound. I don't like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself. We all need family. The Avengers are yours. Maybe more so than mine. I've been on my own since I was eighteen. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the Army. My faith's in people, I guess. Individuals. And I'm happy to say that, for the most part, they haven't let me down.