(Cross-posted on Facebook, as usual)
I was not expecting to be weepy again, but oh my, did the Amy and Jack plot line bring the waterworks.
It was extremely thoughtful of Caleb to bring the old Norton back to Heartland. He's always been a bit of a goof and not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but the guy's got a really kind heart. The poor bike has seen better days, though.
I'm with Amy: how could the person who acquired Ty's bike have let it fall into ruin like that? Thankfully, Jack takes it upon himself to restore it again, except the carburetor is shot and he has to order a new one (and finds one online from the UK!). The plan is to fix up the bike and sell it to someone who will actually use it this time.
It will take about a month for the part to arrive, so Amy takes Jack to a local junkyard because she's found the part he needs there. Unfortunately, the unscrupulous owner demands $600 for it, even insinuating Jack isn't up for the task of fixing the bike. Well, no one talks to Jack Bartlett that way, and no ones gouges him, either, so he storms off, leading Amy to wonder if something else might be bothering Jack...
Plot point B has Jade back in action with preparing for the indoor rodeo circuit. She has her sights set on learning how to ride bareback on the broncs and winning a few buckles along the way. Tim is against it (he's still so protective of her!) but headstrong Jade insists. Of course she takes a spill the first time out in practice, leading Tim to bark at Caleb to show everyone how it's done.
Whether or not his baby son Carson being in the area with Amy caused him to lose his focus and his nerve, we'll never know for sure, but Caleb takes a nasty spill. He is not seriously hurt, but it does cause him to re-evaluate what he's doing with his life now that he is a father. After all, he tells Amy, Ty sold the motorcycle when Lyndy was born because he knew it was a risky thing to be riding it.
Fortunately, Amy talks a little sense into him, revealing it wasn't exactly the danger factor of riding that led Ty to sell the Norton; they needed the money for the house. (After all, she tells Caleb, the Mongolia trips weren't exactly "safe", were they?) Even so, Caleb decides to hang up his rodeo spurs, and hand-writes a letter of resignation to Tim from the rodeo school gig.
Plot Point C: Tim and Jessica Cook are still dancing around each other, and the banter is on. When Tim takes offense at the way Jessica has framed her photos of the rodeo denizens (too much bloody violence and too little heroic courage for his liking), it seems there might be trouble on the way to paradise.
Caleb to the rescue when he speaks candidly of what rodeo is for him and all the others who put themselves through that physical punishment. He makes it sound downright poetic, and it seems to convince Jessica to take a second look.
Caleb to the rescue again when he and Amy offer to help Jade after hours, first on a broke horse like Spartan, and then, at Caleb's suggestion, a steer. (The fall from a steer isn't as high as a from horse is his reasoning.) Tim scoffs at the efforts, but they pay off. Jade learns quickly, and is able to stick an 8-second ride on a bronc to convince Tim she’s ready for competition.
Pleased with what he's seen, Tim rejects Caleb's letter of resignation ("You spelled 'resignation' wrong!"), and praises Caleb's coaching of Jade.
Jessica, having seen rodeo in a new light, presents Tim with a book of her photos, this time capturing images of the cowboys (and girls!) in a much more beautiful way that touches Tim, leading to the two of them making up.
By the end of the episode, Amy has convinced the scummy parts dealer to drop the price by half, and Jack gets to work once again on the restoration project. Memories flow freely from the time he accompanied Ty on the journey to dispose of Brad’s ashes. Jack commends Amy for how well she’s been handling everything this past year, and she tell shim she could not have done it without him. Jack grows emotional, declaring he’s sorry he didn’t tell Ty enough how much he meant to him. Amy assuages that worry by saying he knew, and that in case Ty didn’t say it enough, he loved Jack like a father, and she knows Jack loved Ty like the son he never had. Amy recognizes how important the road trip to spread Brad’s ashes was for both of them, and once the bike is fully repaired, how important it is that “someone” who will actually use the bike should be Jack.
So, no, she won’t sell it to someone else; it’s staying right here, she tells him. And so, they take it out for a spin, with Amy wearing Ty’s old leather jacket.
I honestly can't believe how quickly this season is flying by! Only two more episode to go. I've been enjoying the emotional episodes tremendously, so I hope we're able to get a Season 15. Well done, everyone! I truly appreciate all the efforts put in the past year, especially with all the COVID protocols in place to make this season happen.
Also, let me once again say it: Baby Carson Odell is way too cute. I hope the twins who play him (I assume it's twins, since that's the way things usually work) remain in the role.
Tony Stark/Fem!reader
Words: 3.8k
Warnings: None really, mentions of “The Cave”.
Summary: I said one for each movie and I lied. Don’t trust me…ever. Here’s another for Ironman 1! It’s kind of all over the place. Let me know if it’s trash, it’s been a loooong time.
(not my gif!)
Fear.
Fear wasn’t foreign to you. Your earliest encounter with it came at age 4. Now remember, you stay where I can see you, your father had said, and under no circumstances are you to go in the water without letting an adult know. He’d given you a stern look, one that seemed more at home on Howard’s face than his own. Understood? He’d asked, and you’d nodded.
But things never really go the way they’re supposed to. One minute you’re on the shoreline, digging a little pool into the wet sand, the next, the water is sweeping you away into its cold embrace and you’re left bobbing between the waves. The floaties kept you up, sure, but with each passing second the tide had carried you further and further from the shore, and your desperate cries for your father went unheard.
Or at least you thought they had.
“Hey, it’s alright, I got you. Just- just hold onto me, okay?”
He had no idea how to comfort a wailing child, but even at age 12, Tony Stark did the best he could. What seemed like miles to you (and was more likely a few feet), was quickly wadded through by the boy you’d only met once before.
He didn’t tell your father. It was a lesson learned and you were just a kid, he’d be damned if anyone punished you for their own neglect. You looked terrified and clung to him like a koala, he hadn’t left your side for the rest of the day. That was the day you became his friend. That was the day he became your hero.
---------
That seemed so silly now…drowning. How could the fear of drowning possibly compare to this?
If you took every fear you’d ever felt, stacked them on top of each other and played them in a never-ending loop in your mind for the rest of your life, it’d be a welcome change to the absolute terror that had seized your heart the moment you’d been notified of Tony’s disappearance.
Naturally, the media had lost its mind as soon as a statement was released. Posters, social media, tabloids, the news; everyone was talking about Tony Stark - the billionaire, the genius, the national icon, in the hands of ‘the enemy’. Activists were saying ‘good riddance’, and weeping fans littered the daily news channels, mourning a man they’d never known…a man who you couldn’t -wouldn’t- believe was really gone.
He’s Tony Stark, you’d remind yourself, there’s nothing he can’t do.
Realistically, you knew that the chances of his survival were slim. Your overactive mind had already tried to calculate the odds before you forced it to focus elsewhere. There was still a company to run, reporters to avoid, a billionaire to find.
Pepper took care of the first two for you, but only you could help with the last. She’d been great, Pepper. A godsend. There were hardly any fumes left for you to run on. Sweeping the planet for any sign of Tony was draining; mentally and emotionally. If Pepper hadn’t been there to all but spoon-feed you and tuck you into bed, you likely would have ended up in the ER weeks ago. I’m turning into Tony, you’d wryly thought. But the thought itself just made you miss the man even more.
If anyone had it worse than you, it was probably Rhodey. He’d been more distraught than you’d ever seen him, and after all he’d experienced in his life and his career, that was certainly saying something. But it gave you someone who understood, someone who’d work long into the night with you to try and find a man you both refused to live without.
---------
“Why do you always make this so hard?”
Glassy eyes, pursed lips, drooping shoulders. You looked broken.
Maybe if he hadn’t been so drunk that night he would have understood what you meant. The alcohol never bothered you, not really. You’d scold him for it, take him home, tuck him in, leave Advil and a glass of water on his bedside table, and then repeat it all the next weekend. He’d take advantage of your kindness, because that’s what he did. He hurt the people closest to him.
He loved them, he’d do anything for them…but sometimes his self-depreciation outweighed that love. His whole life had been built on money and fame. He was used to getting what he wanted and the moment something threatened the status quo, he lashed out.
Years later, he would look back and barely remember that night. You hadn’t spoken to him for days afterward and that was the only reason he even cared to remember it at all. There were snippets of memories in his head; a man - a good-looking one, standing a little too close to you at an event, an irrational anger, an argument, and a bruised jaw the morning after.
He’d made excuses and begged for forgiveness, how could he not? Deep down Tony knew what emotion had fuelled him that night, and it was one he’d never expected to feel when he looked at you with someone else. It didn’t change anything, he told himself. In fact, he was hellbent on ensuring it didn’t. You’d told him to stop bringing his flings home, and he’d tried, he really had. But if he didn’t have them then he’d think of you, and he couldn’t ruin you like that.
So, he ignored your warnings and descended even further into his playboy lifestyle. The less he saw you, the more distant you became, and while it tore at him day in and day out, it was for the best. You’d both drifted from each other, but alcohol was the band-aid he slapped on that particular bullet wound.
You were the straight-laced, responsible one. You worked hard and saved face in the media when he inevitably screwed up. You looked after him even if it made your life harder.
Tony was a lot like you in the early days. He wanted to make his parents proud, but that all changed when he realised that no matter how hard he tried, it would never be enough for his father.
Somewhere along the road you’d both diverged from each other. A fork in the road that led you closer to heaven and him closer to hell.
But after that night, Tony had realised that this was more a crossroad than anything else. You were too good for him, he’d never hurt you by pursing a relationship. He didn’t do relationships. But god, did he hate the thought of you with anyone else.
He’d be okay with not having you, as long as nobody else could have you either.
“What the hell is your problem? What did you say to him?”
“I dunno what you mean…we were all ou’ here havin’ a good time, weren’t we girls?”
His entourage chirped like silicone baby birds, desperate for their mama’s attention. Your jaw clenched so hard at the smug grin Tony shot your way, that you almost chipped a tooth.
Ten minutes ago you’d been so close, so close, to finally taking that first step out of the hold he had on you and agreeing to a date. He was a nice boy, a handsome boy, one your mother would have gushed over. But like a vulture circling its next meal, Tony somehow knew just where to find you. His hold was iron. Sometimes you thought that his heart was too, because no matter how much it hurt, he’d never release you.
“Oh come on, sweetheart…” Tony tried rolling his eyes but his entire head followed. “What, you think you were gonna live happily ever after with the baby-faced real estate agent? Really?” He scoffed. “You could do better.”
“Sometimes you can’t help who you love, Tony.” You’d snapped. You’d said too much, but he wouldn’t remember it anyway.
Tony barked a laugh, and his baby birds followed.
“Love? Who’s talkin’ about love? There’s no love here, no ma’am!”
They all laughed again.
Your shoulders dropped, your lips pursed, and you felt the familiar sting at your eyes. You felt broken.
“Why do you always make this so hard?”
---------
Time was a funny thing. All of those nights he’d spent drinking and partying and hunting his next bedmate seemed to flash by in the blink of an eye. But here, in the dark, in the cold, in the wet, he could have sworn that it had been years since he’d arrived.
He’d wasted so much time.
The pain in his chest hadn’t eased up, he didn’t know if it ever would. The Doc had done an incredible job considering the circumstances, and Tony struggled to think of a single one of his own employees who would have had the brains and balls to do what Yinsen did (mainly because he didn’t deal with his employees, but the sentiment was the same). Yinsen had saved his life, and if all it cost him was a bit of pain, then that was a pretty great deal.
The only problem was, that this place was hardly a place he wanted to spend the rest of his life in - however short that may be. The trauma was there, physical and mental, but he’d wrapped it up in chains and thrown it into the deepest pits of his mind. He didn’t have time to fall apart, not when they had a plan.
“I have this friend…”
It was dark, but Tony could still see Yinsen’s head turn in his direction. So far when they settled in for some sleep - if either of them could even manage to muster a few hours - it was Yinsen who had done most of the talking. He spoke of his wife, his children, his home…better days. If anything went wrong the following day, then it was likely that one or both of them would be killed. If ever there were a time to remember what was waiting for him at home, it was now.
“Oh?”
“Yeah…she’s, well, the only real family I have left now that I think about it.”
Yinsen was silent for a beat.
“Do you love her?”
Tony huffed a derisive laugh.
“No. No, it’s not- not like that.” He shook his head, even if Yinsen could barely see it. “She’s different, y’know? Better than this, than- than me.”
Glassy eyes, pursed lips, drooping shoulders. You looked broken.
It was silent again.
“I’ve known her my whole life. She uh, man…”
Yinsen smiled softly. There was a genuine smile in the billionaire’s words.
“She’d know exactly what to do. She’s smart, focused. Probably searching the whole damn planet for us.”
You. Yinsen didn’t bother correcting him.
“She sounds special.”
“She is…I still hear her sometimes. That little voice inside my head, you know the one?”
Yinsen nodded, his eyes slipping shut as he pictured his family.
“I do. I call it hope.”
Tony heaved a shaky breath. “Yeah…hope.”
He smiled. If he closed his eyes he could see the pleased look his words would give rise to.
“She’d get us both out of here with a paper clip and a double A battery.”
Yinsen chuckled.
“I’m sure you’d do the same for her.”
Anything. I’d do anything…
Yinsen hummed thoughtfully, and Tony had to wonder if he’d said that aloud.
“Do you love her?”
Another silence stretched between them as Tony looked over to their workspace. If he squinted he could make out the shape of their creation. The suit of armour that would take them to safety, to freedom…home. Or, maybe it wouldn't.
“Yeah.” He inhaled sharply. “Yeah, I do.”
--------
Tony had taught you many things in life, but this was one of the most important lessons.
You remembered your first day at high school. A child genius, they called you.
A prodigy, that kid’s goin’ places, I’m tellin’ ya!
They were right and you were young, but they also seemed to think that despite the label, your age must have brought with it a certain degree of naivety. The only way they could outdo you was with experience, and they used that to their advantage.
“Watcha doin’?”
“Homework,” you’d answered, tiny hands moving a mile a minute to finish up before dinner.
Tony had frowned then, not that you could see it. You didn’t see him all that often, and when you did, he could barely go to the bathroom without you trailing after him. This was…new.
Even more unusual were the papers strewn all over the desk beside you. Louisa, Thomas, Jake, Allison…Homework, huh? Tony’d thought dryly.
“Woah, slow down there, Speedy Gonzales,” He’d plucked the pencil out of your hand, and couldn’t suppress a smile at the wide-eyed look you’d given him.
“Tony!” You’d shouted, launching yourself at him.
He’d laughed; you hadn’t known it at the time but that was a rarity in those days. You wouldn’t understand it until you were much older, the way he changed around you, even then. The way he hid his sadness, his anger, his bitterness, from you. His childhood may have been miserable, but he’d never allow himself to be the reason yours suffered too.
He would never let anyone hurt you. Except himself, you’d both go on to realise.
“What’s all this?” he’d asked, finally prying your little arms from around his neck.
“The kids at school said that the only reason I was moved up was because my daddy paid for it. They said if I was really that smart, then I’d be able to write their essays and get A’s for all of them.”
You’d looked down at your feet. Why did it suddenly feel wrong? Why did Tony’s smile suddenly look so forced and bitter. He’d scrubbed his expression clean before he looked back at you.
“Did you doubt you could do it?”
“No, I knew I could!” You’d defended.
“Right…so why prove something you already know is true?”
His eyes had softened when he noticed your sad little pout. Decades later it still had the same effect on him. That damned look, I swear it’ll be the death of me one day.
“Hey, look…I get it. I really do,” He’d squeezed your shoulder. “It’s hard, and big kids are assh- ehem, they’re meanies,” his lips had twitched upward, “but you don’t have to prove a damn thing to them, okay? The only person I want you to worry about impressing in this world is you. Can you do that for me?”
You’d nodded.
“Promise?”
“Yes, Tony.”
He’d cocked a brow.
“What, you think I’m going to take your word for it?”
Your fist had shot up immediately, pinky finger at the ready.
“That’s right,” he’d nodded. “You break this very official agreement and that’s it, it’s all over for us.”
---------
So, when he decided to put an end to the weapons manufacturing sector of Stark Industries, you gave him your full support. It was his choice and the world would have to deal with it. Tony had been different since his return. There was a certain blankness that would settle in his eyes sometimes and he seemed more aware of the world around him. He didn’t talk about what happened to him, and you wouldn’t force him to, but the effect it had was evident.
When he’d landed on that tarmac, looking worse than you’d ever seen him, you’d told yourself that it was okay. That he was safe. He was alive. It was more than you could have ever hoped for. Then you’d proceeded to burst into tears, and clung to him the entire way to McDonald’s, like you had that day at the beach so long ago. A press conference was called and he’d left you in the car with a wink that was entirely too confident for a man who’d been through hell.
I promised you a souvenir…
The stoppered tube he’d given you almost sent you into another bout of hysterics. But you were quick to get it together when you’d heard his announcement. You spent the next few days turning off the news whenever he entered the room, but despite your efforts he knew all about the world’s criticism.
“You okay?”
You lingered in the doorway of his bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and head hanging between them. He straightened at the sound of your voice, but the charade was already broken.
“Peachy,” he didn’t even bother forcing a smile. You made your way over to sit beside him.
“You ever just…? I mean, am I doing the right thing here? I gotta be, right?”
He looked at you with wide-eyes. They’d take in every inch of you for signs of a lie, or eagerly lap up your reassurances. You’d seen those eyes before; eyes desperate for direction, for a guidance he usually didn’t need. He was Tony Stark and he paved his own way in life…but the world was so far behind him these days, that he sometimes needed the only thing tethering him to it - and that was you. It always had been, and it always would be.
“You are.”
He’d released a sharp breath, relieved, but irritated. He’d been watching the news again.
“Then- Then why are people treating this like some kind of PTSD-induced phase that I’m supposed to snap out of?”
Did you see that? Those are your weapons…
“People are dying-”
In the hands of those murderers…
“-I know-“
Is this what you want?
“-my weapons are killing them-“
Is this what you wish the legacy of the great Tony Stark to be?
“-I know-“
“Do you?!” He snapped. “‘Cause I had no idea!”
His chest was heaving, anger simmering beneath the surface. You’d let him have this, this moment to just yell and vent and get it all out without having to worry about who would see or who he’d hurt with his words. He’d never hurt you, not really.
Slowly, the stern lines of his face evened out, his shoulders slumped, and that familiar look of regret bled into his eyes.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry...I just…” he drew in a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to know that I’m doing the right thing, no matter the cost.”
“You know why they want you to doubt your decisions? Why they want you to ‘snap out of it’?” you asked.
“It’s not because you’re wrong, but because admitting that you’re right doesn’t work in their favour.” You grasped his hand. “People will never value life as long as they continue to profit from death, Tony.”
“It’s not their names stamped on the shell…” his jaw clenched.
“I know, hon.” You offered a sympathetic smile. “But you’ve taken the first step in a direction even Howard wasn’t brave enough to take. So, we’re going to do what we always do. We’re going to fix this, okay?”
His dark, glassy eyes met your own and you smiled softly at the first trace of a small spark in them.
“Huh…”
You forced a shaky laugh, almost squirming at the foreign look in his eyes.
“What?”
He just smiled and shook his head. “Nothing. Just…I missed you, y’know?”
“Right back atcha,” you huffed a more genuine laugh this time. “I mean it, Tony. I’ve never been more proud of you in my life.”
You pulled him into a tight hug, and by the time you’d pulled away and risen to your feet, a pained look had clouded his features.
“Tony?” You couldn’t help but worry.
“I’m fine,” he smiled. It was entirely fake.
“Do, uh…do you mind just…” He glanced down at the floor as if ashamed to ask, waved his hand to the other side of his bed, and looked back up at you through his lashes. “Stay with me?”
The question caught you off-guard, but you couldn’t blame him for asking. When was the last time he’d gotten a good night’s sleep? Probably the night of the Apogee Awards, and that seemed so very, very long ago. You gave him a reassuring smile.
“Of course.”
He’d settled into bed like a skittish animal, eyes darting to his bedroom door and to the wide expanse of tinted windows that lined his wall. The cave had been claustrophobic, but all he saw now were too many points of entry. He’d have to fix that.
Your head settled on his shoulder, and all -most- thoughts of kidnapping were tucked away for later.
“Y’know…Pep told me you barely slept while I was gone.”
“Snitch,” you mumbled, and he chuckled. “Yeah, I was a little stressed. Didn’t take care of myself as much as I probably should have.”
“I’m sorry…”
You squeezed his side, a silent reprimand.
“Don’t. You’re the last person who should be apologising. You have no idea how relieved I am, Tony.”
He was quiet for a beat. Usually he’d fire back a quip to lighten the mood, but not this time it seemed.
“I’m happy to be home.”
And he was, he just couldn’t quite voice that it wasn’t the safe and warm mansion that he’d considered home while he was in that cave. There were arms he wanted wrapped around him. There were eyes he imagined shining up at him. There was a smile he wanted to trace with his lips. There was a woman, right there at the forefront of his mind, begging him to come home…and he never could deny her.
It was jarring. He was supposed to be smart. He was supposed to be smarter than smart, and it had taken a kidnapping, a haphazard surgery in a dank cave, losing a man -a friend- worth more than any of the snobs he’d met Stateside, a fire-fight with terrorists, and a crash-landing in the middle of the desert, to open his eyes to the world around him.
Don’t waste it…don’t waste your life…
They could take his money, and his fame, and his company, and even his brain. He’d still have all he ever needed. Yinsen had lost that, it was why he urged him not to do the same.
But no, he couldn’t say that. Not to her, not yet. So he did what he always did.
“Pep also said that you slept in here most nights.”
You hummed absentmindedly.
“Kinda hoping you never outgrew that habit of sleeping in your underwear…”
Your brows furrowed, eyes snapping open to spy a grin out of the corner of your eye.
You slapped his chest lightly, mindful of the new addition.
“You’d only be so lucky, pal.”
Feeling his chest shake in silent laughter brought a smile on your face, and though you thought you heard his response, you were too far gone to care about it in the moment.
Megatron: Hold it, Prime! This encounter is over, Autobots. Throw down your weapons! Do it or Optimus Prime will be nothing but a shadow in your memory banks!
#project hail mary
#photography
#aesthetic
