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Multiple Targets || Tony and Pietro (One-Shot Chatzy)

Pietro really, really hated the speed suit. It wasn't an issue of styling, though he kind of hated that as well. (It looked like the 60s barfed on UnderArmor.) It was more that while Iron Man had his armor and Cap had his shield, Pietro had well...nothing. Pretty much everything slowed him down so he always felt a little bit like he was either fighting bad guys or swimming against Michael Phelps when he actually did suit up. He pushed the discomfort away from his mind as he entered Tony's workshop. Who cared if he looked stupid he was finally getting an assignment! He tried to slow down as carefully as possible. He was still embarrassed about the last thing he knocked over in here. And nope, still clipped DUM-E. Only slightly though. That should count for something.

Tony glanced up from his current project -- arrows that emitted electromagnetic pulses to take down robots for Clint and Kate -- when he heard someone enter the workshop. That was weird, people didn’t usually come down here. Bruce had gone off to do… something a few hours ago, but Tony didn’t think he’d be back so soon. Unless it wasn’t so soon and Tony had been in the shop for days, in which case it could be Steve come to lecture him on the importance of eating food and that was always fun. When he spotted Pietro, he was confused for a moment. Partially because he didn’t usually see Pietro (he was usually moving pretty fast), and partially because he didn’t know why the speedster would come down to his workshop. Then, he remembered. Politicians dying, weird clones running around the city. He’d asked for Pietro’s help. Right. “Careful with the robots,” he said protectively, getting up from his seat and crossing the lab to inspect DUM-E. The bot was fine, but he made a distressed whirring sound as Tony approached. “Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” the mechanic sighed, patting DUM-E affectionately. “He barely even touched you.” Turning to Pietro, he smiled. “Let me just grab my suit, then we can head out.”

Pietro reached forward very gently and petted DUM-E the way you might pet a one hundred pound rottweiler. "Sorry buddy. My bad." He'd never really gotten used to all the technology in this place. You'd mutter to yourself and then sometimes the walls would talk back. Pietro followed Tony tentatively, sort of doing a speed skip from side to side. "You didn't say what we were specifically doing. Just that I get to trip people, which is awesome, don't get me wrong. But am I just going to run around town looking for people about to get murdered? I have to be honest here, I'm not the most observant guy in the world."

Tony rolled his eyes. He’d given up trying to look at Pietro while talking to him a few days after he’d moved the twins into the tower. It just made him dizzy. “We’ve got a lead, actually,” he supplied, unlocking his suit and taking a step back. He was still damn proud of the program he’d installed in the armor to find him when he needed it. The suit flew out of its storage case and positioned itself on him in a minute, and Tony couldn’t help but grin. “Well, it’s kind of a lead. We’re going to the last place he was seen, the location of the last assassination. Probably pick up something there.”

Pietro stepped aside to let the suit pass by, barely resisting the urge to catch one of the pieces in midair just to see what would happen. "So everyone else has this lead then, technically." he said, cocking his head to the side slightly like a dog. "Seeing as there are newspapers." He itched at his suit slightly. "You just going to Batman the crime scene then? Do some field soil analysis or some shit? What do we think the LAPD missed?"

Tony sighed. “Okay, yes. Technically, everybody has the lead. But we have resources that LAPD doesn’t. Specifically,” his faceplate slid shut with a quiet whoosh, “me.” The HUD lit up and JARVIS’s familiar voice greeted him, informing him of the suit’s current status. “Now, stop doubting me! I’m a genius, Speedy. I can handle a guy and his mini-me’s.”

Pietro followed him outside, letting his eyes adjust to the Malibu sun. Tony reminded Pietro a little bit of Magneto sometimes, not in terms of genocidal rage or their mutual love for painted medal, but because he could say something, and even though you wanted to smack him for saying it, you found yourself agreeing wholeheartedly. "So where am I going, boss?" Pietro asked stretching his calf muscles on the edge of the stairs. Give him some credit, the "boss" was only said with maybe 60% sarcasm. "Because I am not taking the Stark Industries Express. I promised my first flight to someone else."

“Aw, you’re not gonna let me carry you around?” Tony asked, voice heavy with fake offense. “I’m hurt. Honestly, I am. I may never recover.” He pulled up the address on his HUD and rattled it off to Pietro quickly. He knew that the kid could keep up with him no matter how fast he talked. He liked that. “Listen, I know you’re gonna get there before me. I’ll be there in like a minute or two, so don’t do anything stupid while you’re waiting.” Huh, weird, usually it was somebody else telling him not to be stupid. Was he the responsible one now? Shit, that was a scary thought. Glancing over to Pietro, he took off, headed for the location. He knew his head start didn’t mean much. Pietro was one person who he couldn’t beat in a race. He doubted anyone could, to be honest.

Pietro raised an eyebrow at Tony. "Hey. You pay my salary. You're going to have a sexual harassment lawsuit on your hands. Unwanted overtures, man." One of Pietro's lesser known powers was spatial reasoning and geographical awareness. Like a baseball player who did all the parabolic calculations in his head without thinking to catch a pop fly, the older Maximoff could calculate the quickest way to nearly any location without thinking about it consciously. The minute Stark looked away, Pietro let loose. It had been nice to run with Carol but he hadn't actually gotten to speed for a reason in a long time. He actually felt himself trying and it felt amazing. So amazing he nearly overshot the target by about 50 yards. He stabilized himself and got back, glad that no one had quick enough perception to see that. The sidewalk wasn't entirely clean of blood and grime yet so it was easy to find the potential investigation site. He tapped his foot, still waiting for Tony. Counted to 20 in his head. Screw it, he was getting a hot dog.

Tony tilted his head. “Salary?” he repeated. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, Flash, but you don’t get a salary. The superhero thing’s more of a ‘outta the goodness of your heart’ type gig. Only salary we get is the angry reporters gathering at the doorstep.” He laughed. Of course, Pietro beat him to the crime scene. Probably without even breaking a sweat, and Tony wasn’t bitter about that at all, he really wasn’t. He was, however, a little annoyed to find Pietro in line for hot dogs. “Really?” he asked, landing next to the kid with a sigh. “We’re on a job. We’re trying to catch and assassin. And not the good kind.”

Pietro moaned. ""Seriousssslyyy? I am taking this up with Pepper. Natasha will unionize with me. Organized labor and all that." Pietro knew that somewhere within him he should feel bad or unprofessional or something due to Iron Man's stern glare but Tony was the one who was late and the Iron Man faceplate had nothing on Wanda's disappointed doe eyes. Pietro took the pile of hot dogs from the window and walked back towards the the crime scene. "It's the Wien man. Best food truck in the city. They're fans. And I have to eat if you want me to catch the guy once you've gone all Batman on this noise." He waved his hand vaguely at the area, food still in his mouth. "If I faint or something, you will be carrying me home and Wanda will never forgive you." He stood at the edge of the faint blood smear, looking down at it. "There are good kinds of assassins?"

“Pepper’s never gonna cave,” Tony assured him, shaking his head. “She’s the most stubborn person I know.” She was probably the only person on Earth who could get Tony to attend any kind of meeting. It was why she’d been his PA for years, why he trusted her to run his company now. At Pietro’s explanation, Tony sighed. “Fine,” he said, “have your hot dogs. But next time pack a sandwich or something.” He was already surveying the scene when Pietro asked his next question. “Clint and Natasha are the good kind of assassin,” he said, not looking at Pietro as he spoke. “Well, most of the time. Sometimes I wanna punch Clint, and Natasha stabbed me in the neck once but it was for my own good.” Details about the scene popped up on his HUB, from JARVIS’s analysis of the area to police reports. Judging by his calculations, there was about an 82% chance that the assassin would send a clone to inspect the scene, maybe see if the police had uncovered something. And to gloat. Gloating was always a strong motive for returning to the scene of the crime.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "Pepper hasn't seen my puppy face yet. $50,000 a year, I tell you. And dental." Pietro groaned as Tony suggested he prepare a bag lunch. "Have you ever thrown a sandwich in a blender? Because that is what happens when I reach maybe a third of how much I can actually do. Jeez, Tony. Physics." It never occurred to him to put the sandwich in a container of some kind. That would require forethought. Pietro didn't need forethought. That's what Wanda was for. "Oh. Right. Them." he said as Tony mentioned Clint and Natasha. "Our friendly neighborhood assassins." Pietro glared at a passerby who reacted to him saying that. He glanced around the crowd, honestly looking for another food truck. "Man, Nat's the best. So what am I looking for here?" he said, never taking his eyes off the street.

Tony scoffed. “Pepper’s seen everything,” he told Pietro. “Your puppy dog eyes will have no effect on that woman, I can promise you that right now.” He used to try everything to get Pepper to let him do what he wanted. With most people, it wasn’t hard; everybody had a price. He’d yet to find Pepper’s, and at this point it was just easier to do what she said. “You don’t have to carry the sandwich in your hand, genius. There are other options here.” In response to the speedster’s statement about the team’s assassins, Tony simply nodded before getting back to business. “I’d say we’re looking for…” he trailed off, catching sight of a young guy in a hoodie. The guy matched the description that had been distributed amongst the Avengers. 93% chance that it was a clone, 4% that it was the assassin himself, 2% that it was a random civilian. “That. We’re looking for that.” He nodded at the guy, who seemed to catch sight of the two Avengers at that point. When he turned to run, Tony had to bite back a laugh. “Probably a clone,” he told Pietro, “but I’m sure we can get something out of him. Go on, Forest, do your thing.”

Pietro couldn't help laughing. Tony was so sure he was the best at everything. He knew that feeling. It could get you into trouble. "I will bet you money I don't have right now but will have once I have a salary that I can get Pepper to monetarily support the Avengers." He laughed at Tony's insult. "Tony Stark called me a genius. This is going on my resume. That I won't need. Because I'll be getting a salary." Pietro had asked the question about what to look for but had not fully listened to the answer. He was already glazed over from looking, but when Tony nodded to the target, Pietro snapped into laserlike focus. "Nice reference, guy. I wasn't even born when that movie came out." Much as he wanted to stay and banter with Stark, he finally had some prey for the first time in, well, at least a month. He sped up in front of the fleeing clone, stopped about six feet in front of him. "Hey, buddy. Where's your friends?" The clone turned to go the other direction and there was Pietro again. "I'm not sure you're getting the picture." he said, smiling but with a growl in his voice. He launched himself at the clone, grabbing him as he ran by, crashing him into the concrete exterior wall next to Tony. He hit with a solid crunch, not enough to knock the man unconscious but definitely some broken ribs and discombobulation. Pietro's voice was low, dangerous. "We're the Avengers, asshole. So start talking."

Tony looked at Pietro, raising his eyebrows under his faceplate. “See, now, I’d have to be an idiot to take that bet considering you wouldn’t have the money to pay me unless you won. Nice trick, but they don’t call me a genius for nothing. Can’t buy that nickname.” Not that he’d bought any of his other nicknames; with most of them, he’d be more likely to pay to see them gone. Even if it was the truth, being referred to as the Merchant of Death brought back bad memories. “Doesn’t matter if you weren’t born yet, that movie’s a classic. You have seen it, haven’t you? I don’t think I can let you live in my house if you haven’t seen it. I swear, I’m gonna need a weekly movie night to make sure all you people’ve seen the best movies.” Honestly, Steve still had a lot of catching up to do in the movie department, Bruce had been living under a rock for years, and Tony was pretty sure Thor didn’t even know what a movie was. It was like he was living with animals. When Pietro brought the clone back over, Tony barely even registered it. The kid was definitely fast. “Aw, did you have to knock him out?” he sighed, nudging the unconscious clone with his foot. “Now we’re gonna have to wait for him to wake up.”

Pietro bobbed and weaved absentmindedly as Tony roostered about about catching the trick. There was an old Romani story about a boy who gets a kingdom by tricking an ogre into defeating himself. Not to say Pietro believed in fairy tales, but even he could see the analogy. "I will bet you whatever you want Tony. I can do it. People call me a genius too." /In bed/ he though to himself quietly. "I tend not to sit through movies. I like cartoons though." Pietro said when Tony mentioned movie night. His eyes were focused on the clone's back, clocking him. "Wanda can explain it you. We've started Mean Girls maybe twelve times, I just can't finish it." And then he was running towards the bad guy. Pietro beat himself up a bit for the miscalculation in force. He realized he'd gone into Brotherhood mode for a moment. "He'll wake up." Pietro said, bringing his hand above the unconscious man's face, using his own sped up biophysics as a fan. He slapped the man gently, then harder. "Wake up, man. You're embarrassing me." Nothing. "You know what--" Pietro said, disappearing and then reappearing with a bottle of water. "I don't have time for this." he said, splashing the contents of the bottle on the man's face.

Tony stared at Pietro, shaking his head. “You haven’t even seen Mean Girls? God, what is wrong with you?” He decided that he was living with a bunch of animals. “You can’t offer me anything I don’t already have,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, I’m a billionaire and a superhero. I’m pretty much living the dream here.” Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to talk out his issues with a teenager. He wouldn’t even talk out his issues with a licensed therapist. Tony watched as Pietro dumped a water bottle over the clone’s head. Not only was it pretty amusing to watch, it also seemed to do the trick. The clone’s eyes slid open lazily and Tony smiled under the suit. “Oh, goody,” he said, folding his hands together. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Or, you know, a guy that looks like you.”

"Right." Pietro sighed as Tony explained how he was living the dream. "I have seen parts of Mean Girls." Pietro replied defensively. "I just get bored around the Christmas bit. Better things to do you know?" Relieved the water did the trick, Pietro leaned in over the clone, standing him up against the wall. "Alright, guy. He has lasers in his hands and I can curb stomp you seven times before you blink, so you're going to tell us what the plan is here." The broken face just smiled at him. Pietro felt his fist close and his arm slightly vibrate.

“Bored,” Tony repeated, shaking his head again. He decided to let it go for now. Later, he’d totally find some way to convince Pietro to sit down to some movie watching. Maybe he could make an experiment of it and speed the movies up, see if the kid could understand films in fast forward. It’d be interesting. Tony had to admit, this clone guy’s smug face was annoying. He raised a hand, bringing it close to the grinning, bloodied face and fired up his repulsors. His palm glowed and emitted a low whine. “Guess the easy way’s out, huh? So we’ll try the hard way. I’m all right with that.” He smirked under the mask. “Who’s the next target?”

Pietro side eyed Tony as the suit hummed to life. He didn't want to say anything but if crashing the guy into a wall was overkill, the repulsors might be a bit much too. He had just opened his mouth to say something very smart when shots rang out up the street. He nearly ran away instinctively but managed to grab onto the wall to steady himself, his other hand still holding the clone. Pietro looked up the street, where pedestrians were running away in droves. "Hold this." He said, shoving the man at Tony. Everything was always so clear when he ran. Cause and effect were linked in sprays of particles. People made sense in slow motion. There were scared, or frightened, or happy, and you didn't have to figure out why or what you did. They just were and they didn't know you were there. These people were terrified. Screaming, running, hiding behind cars and mailboxes. And in the middle of it all...another clone.

Tony stumbled slightly as Pietro launched the clone at him, regaining his posture and keeping a tight grip on the smug-faced clone. He did his best to ignore the man as he waited for Pietro to return, but he had to admit the whole instant cloning thing made him curious. “JARVIS,” he said, turning off outside speakers so the clone wouldn’t hear him, “Run scans on Tatiana Maslany here. Send them to the workshop when you finish.” JARVIS chirped a simple Yes sir, in his ear and went to work. Tony turned the outside speakers back on and looked the clone up and down. “So, hey, you didn’t answer my question before. Who’s the next politician you’re wanting to take down? Or do you even know? I mean, I guess these could be random killings, but you’d have to do some research to know that you’re taking down a senator and not a factory worker, right?” The clone remained silent. Tony hated silence.

Pietro was struck for a moment by the strangeness of it all. He, Pietro Maximoff, was running into a crowd instead of trying desperately to escape it. How things change. The man was brandishing an automatic rifle of some kind. Pietro had never bothered to learn about guns. He just watched the spray pattern and ran the opposite way usually. What did Wanda usually tell him? Stop taking my things. No, that wasn't it. Zigzag, yes, zigzag. And so he did, gently pushing aside civilians until he had disarmed the identical man and held him with one hand behind his back. "Now," Pietro said with only a slight sneer. "Ever been on a roller coaster?" He grabbed the man and rocketed forward, nearly reaching his own limits. He and his hostage were back in front of Tony in nearly an instant, and Pietro's clone fell to his knees vomiting. "Mine's better." Pietro said, smirking.

Tony would like to say that he wasn’t startled by Pietro’s sudden reappearance, but he was a jumpy guy. He snorted at the sight of the second clone. “Oh, boy,” he said drily, “Now we have two! Twice the fun, right?” The clones still didn’t look very concerned, and frankly, Tony was getting annoyed. The asshole still hadn’t answered his question. Tony Stark was not one to be left waiting. “So, speedy, how are we gonna do this thing?”

Tony raised an eyebrow at Pietro. He might like to talk, but the idea of actually making someone try to give him information, even a couple of clones, made him uncomfortable. He’d been on the receiving end of that kinda thing before, after all. He had no trouble pretending, though. “All right, last chance,” he said, raising his repulsor once again. “What’s your plan?” The clone laughed at him. “There’s nothing you can do to make me talk,” he said, and his voice sounded hollow. Not real. “I have nothing to lose.” It was a fair point, Tony supposed; killing the clones would only make them disappear, and judging by how many run-ins the team had already had with them, they didn’t seem too worried about self preservation.

Pietro watched Tony's eyes search the clone's face. This wasn't complicated to Pietro, not really. A man was going around killing people. He needed to be stopped, and the things he was holding in his hands weren't exactly human anyway. "I don't need you to have something to lose." Pietro said heavily, as if he had gone back to a far away place. "I need you to want it to end." He gave Tony a small nod. "You can take a walk, buddy. Emergency response probably needs help. I'm gonna play some pinball."

Tony stared at Pietro, eyes wide with disbelief. He was used to the kid being a jokester, running through the house and wreaking good-natured havoc. He wasn’t used to the cold edge in his voice, the expression on his face that, for just a second, sent Tony whirling back through time to a cave in Afghanistan filled with angry, dangerous men who stared at him with expressions eerily similar to the one that this funny, endearing teenager -- his friend -- was currently giving the clones. “Quicksilver,” he said carefully, forcing himself to use Pietro’s code name rather than risk exposing his identity to the clones. “That’s not how we do this.” He placed a hesitant hand on Pietro’s arm, glancing to the clones who, in spite of their earlier confidence, were looking a bit rattled.

Pietro looked down at Tony's hand as if he'd waken up from a nightmare. "Yeah," he breathed, face falling. "Of course, yeah." He stepped away from them for a moment, breathed in and out. His fists released and his body visually vibrated as he exhaled. He stepped back to his mentor, smiling again like a little kid, as if his disturbing rage had been some kind of passing summer storm. He even picked up the vomiting clone, propped him up against the wall. He patted the man gently as he finished, the same "totally my bad" way he had touched DUM-E. "So do we take them back to the doc or to LA's finest? You guys want to meet the Hulk?"

Tony‘s shoulders slumped in relief as Pietro stepped down. He didn’t realize his breathing had quickened until it slowed again. Okay, so, that had been weird. He made a mental note to talk to Pietro about that later, make sure everything was all right. For now, though, they had business to attend to. “Not much the LAPD can do with them,” he observed, studying the clones. JARVIS had already informed him that his analysis waited for him in the lab, but if they decided to run blood work or something, they’d need something a bit more physical. The vomiting clone, the one who Pietro had mentioned might be edging on internal bleeding, was concerning, though. Despite how many times Bruce had reluctantly accepted Tony’s phobia of hospitals and treated him at the mansion, he wasn’t a medical doctor. Even if he was, Tony wasn’t really sure that medical treatment would do much good on a clone. “Guess we could take one back to the mansion,” he observed, eyeing the first clone they’d caught. “Don’t know if we could handle both of them.” Maybe the best thing to do with the other clone was leave him here. They could take his weapon, neutralize the threat. Maybe it was the best option.

Pietro's breathing was still shallow as he watched Tony decide what to do. He felt exhausted, like he'd run around the earth more than once or twice. "If we don't want both I can walk Vomit Comet here over to the cops. Figure we could use a PR win right now." Pietro leaned more towards Tony, trying to apologize without saying anything. "He's not useful dead. Can I get him looked at?" He nodded his head towards Tony's clone, the still ambulatory one. "Maybe Black Widow can do some spider-y stuff on him to get information or whatever."

Tony looked to the vomiting clone once again, snorting at Pietro’s nickname for him. “That’s a pretty good idea,” he agreed. He glanced over to Pietro, who was giving him a kicked puppy look, and damn it if it didn’t get to him. Okay, maybe the kid was right. Maybe he could convince Pepper into signing a paycheck. Tony didn’t remember if he’d actually made the bet or not, but he decided if he had, he was dropping out of it. He didn’t want to go against Pietro in this, no siree. “Yeah, drop the drunk college kid off with LA’s finest. We’ll take this one back to the house, maybe run some blood work, see if Tasha has any luck talking to him.” From what he’d seen, Natasha’s methods of gathering information were gentler than what Pietro had in mind. He knew that she probably toned it down when he was around; out of all the Avengers, Natasha probably had the most information on his past. SHIELD had assigned her to evaluate him once upon a time, after all, and even if there were certain details absent from his SHIELD file, Natasha was smart enough to put two and two together. So maybe her information gathering methods weren’t always as gentle as the ones she used around Tony, but he was more comfortable with her doing it than a kid. Besides, he wouldn’t be watching it happen. That was a plus. “All right, Bolt, let’s get this taken care of.”

Pietro nodded, relieved he wouldn't have to discuss what happened in front of the...suspects? Perpetrators? He used to just say humans but that didn't help at all now. And it made him feel bad. As he reached for the vomiting clone, he glared at Tony for the new nickname. "Okay Robocop. Whatever you say." He looked down at the clone, still shaky. "I'm going to bring them to him for, uh, safety reasons." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Are we allowed to just take him or should you and him not be hear when I bring the medics?" Pietro wasn't a planner but he was used to learning the hard way. Never let someone call the hospital when you're stuck in a vending machine, and never carry people off in front of government officials.

Tony chuckled at the nickname. “Creative,” he deadpanned. Looking back down to the clones, he nodded. “Riiight,” he said, “Good call, Lightning. I’ll take this goon back to the mansion and see you back there in…” He took a moment to assess the scene before continuing, “Two minutes?”

Pietro gauged the distance between him and the approaching medics with his eyes. "More like one." he replied to Tony's assessment of his possible travel time. "As long as I can explain what's going on quickly."

Tony glanced over to the police, giving Pietro a skeptical look. “Okay,” he says, a smidgen of doubt in his voice. “One.” He leaned down and lifted up the uninjured (okay, less injured, Pietro hadn’t exactly been gentle) clone with ease, tossing him over his shoulder. He knew it had to be uncomfortable, but it was a lot better than what could be happening right now, so he figured the copy’d be okay. “Good luck with the cops,” he told Pietro, grinning under his mask. He didn’t envy the kid. The LAPD were already way past weary when it came to the heroes who’d taken over their city, and they didn’t tend to greet the Avengers with happy faces.

Pietro waved his hand at Tony has he prepared to leave. This wouldn't be that hard. He sighted the nearest officer, grabbed him at trot, and pulled him to Vomit Comet. Pietro helped the man catch his breath then spoke painfully slowly (for him, to the normal ear he would sound a bit like he'd had twelve cops of coffee.) "Hi. I'm P -- Quicksilver. I'm an Avenger. This guy --" he pointed to Vomit Comet "is one of the assassin clones. He's the guy that just shot up Sixth. Good?" He looked at the cop, still dazed. "I need to go though," Pietro said, feeling the seconds ticking away. "You understand?" The cop still looked dazed but Pietro was losing interest as he figured they would work it out. "Bye, Vom." he said, slightly woefully, and he headed back to Malibu, seven seconds over time.

#multiple targets #pietro #chatzy #calling the shots #brief mentions of ptsd #brief mentions of torture