Chapter Text
Bea ended the call and set the phone down on her nightstand with a sigh. What should have been a five-minute apology with Caroline and James Fletcher had turned into an hour-long conversation, and Bea was regretting ever having gotten out of bed.
They had taken her apology well, considering Bea hadn’t planned a word of it, but when Bea hesitated, Caroline had asked the dreaded question: “What’s wrong?”
Muscle memory had told her to brush it off, give some casual reassurance that everything was fine, but Bea knew they deserved better than that after what she’d put them through. So she sidled up to the months of trauma and sifted through the shit to figure out what was bothering her the most.
It should’ve been Cross, and the idea of court, maybe even the way her best friend had almost died in her arms all over again.
“I talked to Tony last night,” she’d said instead.
“About?” James gently pressed.
“He asked me what I wanted to do, and after talking to you guys about it yesterday, I told him I wanted to stay.”
Caroline sucked in a breath. “And?”
“He wants me to stay, too.”
Caroline gave a loud cheer and James, laughing, pulled the phone away. “Oh, hon,” she’d said, back at a normal volume. “We are so pleased for you.”
“But what’s the problem?” James had asked. “That sounds like good news to me.”
Bea paused then, measuring her words. She understood what Tony had told her last night, knew that he’d meant every word and had meant every word since she’d first stepped foot in the Tower all those months ago. Cautiously and carefully, she said “When you offered Vivian a forever home, were you … I mean, were you sure? Like, a hundred percent?”
“A hundred percent,” James answered without hesitation. “We wouldn’t have offered if we knew we weren’t a good home for her.”
Bea swallowed. “He told me once that no sane judge would ever make him the guardian of anyone.”
“Beatrice,” Caroline started gently. “That Stark is a smart man, he’s probably thought this through a thousand times more than you. If he didn’t think he could do it, he wouldn’t offer. Yes, he’s got a pretty questionable reputation, but it sounds to me like he’s ready and willing to change. If a judge can’t see the amount of dedication and care he has for you, they’re not a very good judge.”
“And it probably won’t be the easiest road, or the shortest,” James continued. “But one thing we’ve learned doing what we do is that trust is important. This whole process will be so much easier to bear if you have people around you who you can trust.”
The idea of trusting Tony used to make her blood run cold. Even before Cross, trusting anyone with any of her secrets was a gamble she wasn’t wiling to take. When had all of that changed?
“We clearly don’t know the full story here, honey,” Caroline had said, “and that’s okay. Granted, we haven’t known you very long, but we can tell that you’re more than capable of seeing this through. You’re a good kid, and Stark’s lucky to have you.”
Bea’s throat burned and she blinked furiously at the tears that stung her eyes. She thanked them then, these two people who were still barely more than strangers but who probably understood her just as well as the friends she’d made here at the Tower. They said their goodbyes, and Bea hung up.
Ultimately, the Fletchers were right—if she could let herself trust people again, maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. She still didn’t even know where to start with Cross. Tony probably already had a lawyer—he’d said as much on the phone yesterday—which probably meant there was a plan in place. Hopefully. And the way her heart drummed against her ribs every time she thought of sitting in the witness box, having too look at Cross as she detailed all the thing’s he’d done to her—well, hadn’t Tony said they’d gotten her a therapist? That’ll be a pretty decent job for whoever they are.
Bea was sick of being scared, sick of second-guessing everything. From now on, she promised herself, I’ll be braver.
She left her phone on the bedside table and started out the door down the hallway, into the bright open living area. Tony and Pepper were sitting at the dining table, knees touching as they talked in hushed whispers. A third place was set beside Pepper, and a stack of toast waited for her.
Tony’s eyes found her and Pepper turned to see what had him so tense.
“Oh, morning hon,” she called, waving Bea over to the empty place as she set two pieces of toast down on the empty plate and made sure all the condiments were within reach. “How did you sleep?”
“Not bad,” said Bea. She knew she was still in deep shit for running off last night, and struggled to meet Tony’s eye. She gestured over her shoulder as she said, “Just got off the phone with the Fletchers. I apologised.”
“Knew you would,” said Tony, softening now and taking a bite of his avocado toast.
“Speaking of,” Pepper said slowly. “You never told us how yesterday went.”
Her tone was airy and gave the impression of nonchalance, but the arugula and feta salad on her plate was untouched, though littered with prong-marks from her still mindlessly stabbing fork, and the wedge of lemon on the side had been squeezed to a pulp. Bea pretended she didn’t notice.
“It was okay.”
Pepper gave a knowing look, but it was Tony who spoke up.
“It went terribly,” he said with a smirk. “They were so nice and normal, it scared our Bea into never leaving.”
It took Pepper a moment to process his words.
“What?” She dropped the fork, looking back to Bea. For a moment, she worried that Pepper was the disappointed kind of shocked, but then her lips curled into a hopeful smile. “You’re staying?”
Bea nodded, fighting her own smile. “I hope so. I mean, if we can get Karen to agree.”
Pepper clicked her tongue and gave a dismissive wave. “Oh, to hell with Karen.”
Bea couldn’t help laughing. She’d never heard Pepper like this before, and the thought that now she’d get to witness Pepper all sorts of ways—joyful, tired, even cranky—made her heart soar.
Pepper reached over and took Bea’s hand, squeezing tight. She saw the woman’s shining eyes linger on her unmarred wrists for only a moment. “The Fletchers, they looked like such a good fit, I really thought you were going to go. I wasn’t hoping it wouldn’t work out, but I’m so glad it didn’t.”
“I didn’t actually think this was an option, but they talked me through it for the longest time, they really helped. But, for the record, I’m really glad it didn’t work out, too.”
Pepper’s face did something weird then, and she reached over to pull Bea into an awkward side-hug.
Bea hugged her back just as tight and whispered, “Thank you for what you said at the press conference.”
“Don’t be silly,” Pepper said quietly, pulling back to look her in the face. “You’re our Bea.”
They pulled apart and Pepper went back to her salad then, eating the wilted, stabbed arugula cheerfully. Tony grinned at her from across the table, and gave a wink.
“I think this is cause for celebration,” Pepper said through her salad, a polite hand covering her mouth. “You’re going out tonight, how about we have a spa day?”
“Your date,” Tony jeered. “How could anyone forget. Happy’s really looking forward to it, too.”
“First of all, it’s not a date,” Bea huffed. “And you’re the one who invited Happy, it’s not as if it was my idea.”
“Yeah? And why did I do that, can you remind me?”
“Cut it out,” Pepper told him firmly. “This is a good day, quit bickering.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Well, I’m afraid it’s not a good day yet.” He looked at Bea. “Go on, tell her what you told me last night.”
Bea watched him for a moment, wishing she didn’t have to ruin Pepper’s good mood like this. They all had matching under-eye bags after their sleepless nights—Tony and Bea had stayed in the lab until just before dawn, tinkering and talking even more. Something about late nights and the cover of darkness always loosened Bea’s tongue, often ending up cursing herself for it by morning.
Pepper put a hand on her arm. “What is it?”
“I want to testify.” The words felt as foreign in her mouth as they had last night, but no less true. “Against Cross. I want to tell the Judge what he did and be there when they lock him up for good.”
No one dared tell her the odds.
“Okay,” Pepper said. “We’re meeting with Jon on Monday morning, we can fill you in on everything that’s happened so far, and make a plan for what’s to come.”
Gratitude swelled in Bea like a balloon. “Okay.”
“Now, is there anything else we need to cover before today can officially be declared a good day?”
Bea forced the memories of pills and scars and dark thoughts that only came in the night out of her head, and smiled. “Nope.”
“Fabulous. You and me, spa day.”
She couldn’t read the soft expression on Tony’s face and utterly refused to let herself ruin anything more today, so she simply settled into her bubble of contentment and began spreading honey on her toast.
Bea had never been to a spa. The closest she had ever come was the living room floor between her mom’s knees, eyes closed as the comb gently detangled her curls. She’d never had her nails done or her skin pampered, her hair professionally done or her toes munched on by those creepy little fish. So when she followed Pepper through those enormous sliding glass doors, met by at least fifteen smiling faces, Bea was found herself just about hiding behind Pepper.
So much for brave.
But the ladies in the spa were welcoming and greeted them as if they’d been in a thousand times before, which Pepper probably had. Ever the CEO, Pepper quickly took the lead and rattled off everything they were looking to get done. Bea could barely keep up, only just catching words like age-defying and detoxifying and ultra-hydrating. It didn’t escape her notice that Pepper went for all the gentler services—Bea wasn’t sure she could handle a wax or a full-body massage quite yet.
They spent hours at the salon, and everything Pepper had chosen was perfect. After all their treatments, Bea’s skin was plump and soft against the plush white robe she’d been given, and she was certain her face had never felt so hydrated. Best of all though, her body felt well. Not a single ache or twinge in her joints, not a ghost of whatever had been plaguing her for the past few weeks. Maybe healing Peter really had affected her, but being there at the spa, she imagined herself as a plant getting watered for the first time after being left on the street.
Pepper never once mentioned the missing scars on her wrists, or the new lightness in her step. It was only during a hand massage that Bea realised even the remnants of the cut on her palm had healed, too—but she didn’t know what to do with that information, so she promptly tucked it away in her mind for ignoring.
Halfway through their day, Bea was so relaxed that she barely even protested when Pepper talked her into a hair treatment. It had probably cost an entire year’s tuition, considering it took three people to comb, wash and treat her curls. They fawned over her like she had hair made of gold and skin like satin, and it made something shine in her chest to accept the attention, to sink into a place that was safe and warm and free from everything she’d seen and felt.
Her body didn’t care about the expensive spa treatments, about the attention and the gentle hands combing through her hair. Despite having finally relaxed, her muscles still remembered, and when the staff lay her back in that chair to rinse her hair, they protested. Her shoulders ached and her hands felt trapped—she felt trapped.
But the staff were patient with her and didn’t complain when she had to take a break. They simply gave her a towel to keep her wet hair from soaking through her robe, and left her to her privacy as she sat up, breathed, and reminded herself that the memories were just that—memories. She stumbled through her old breathing exercises, flexing her wrists to relieve the phantom weights that had settled there.
She had swung her legs over the side and was just short of taking a walk around the room, just to remind herself she could, when Pepper knocked at the door. She let herself in and gave Bea a knowing look, neither speaking as Pepper settled on the chair beside her and began rubbing circles into her back. No judgement, no discomfort, just gentle kindness.
An hour later, with nothing left on the agenda but a steam treatment, they settled into their loungers with their cucumber water and basked in the lavender-scented air.
“God, this is so overdue,” said Pepper, stretching out like a cat. Bea couldn’t help but smile.
“Thank you,” Bea said. “For today, but also for everything.”
“Bea, thank you. I don’t get to do this often enough.”
Her brow furrowed as she fought a smile. “The staff know you by name.”
“Yeah, okay, fine, but it’s no fun coming without a buddy.” Pepper glanced across to Bea. “Unless you’ve totally hated today?”
“Oh, hated it,” Bea said facetiously, tilting her head back and breathing deep. “Worst day of my life, by far.”
Pepper laughed hard, coughing a little on the steam. Once recovered, she turned slightly more solemn and said, “How are you feeling about tonight?”
“It’s not a date.”
“Never said it was,” Pepper said gently. “You’re good together, though. As friends, obviously,” she said when Bea shot her a look, “but still good. You’re happier when he’s at the Tower, you sleep better. It’s like you feel safer when he’s with you.”
Bea let it sink in a moment, before admitting, “I do. Not that I don’t feel safe with you guys, it’s just …”
“You don’t have to explain,” Pepper assured quickly. “Just an observation.”
“He’s a really good friend. I don’t know if I could’ve done the last few months without him.”
Pepper gave a thoughtful smile. “Friends like that are rare. I think you’re both very lucky.”
Bea chewed her lip. “You don’t think he feels … obligated or anything, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
She sat up, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve been a bit of a mess and I haven’t really given him the opportunity to change his mind about being my … friend. He’s amazing, don’t get me wrong, but I’m worried I might’ve trapped him in all this.”
“Oh, honey,” Pepper said with a small laugh. “I don’t think you understand how much that boy loves you. He never stopped talking about you before you came to stay, and that still hasn’t changed.”
“I’m not even close to the person I used to be, though. How could he possibly feel any kind of way towards me when I don’t even know myself? How can he like me when I …” Her voice broke, thick with steam, and she swallowed.
Pepper sat up then, too, and took Bea’s hands in her own. “Pete is your friend first, no matter what, and whether what’s between you is platonic or romantic is for you two to figure out. But I promise you, people who love you, like really love you, they aren’t so easy to scare off.”
She squeezed Bea’s hands three times.
“That includes me and Tony, you know,” Pepper added in a low whisper.
Bea didn’t have words good enough to tell Pepper what it all meant to her, so she simply squeezed back, three times.
What was left of their hour in the lavender room was spent talking, with the unspoken rule between them of no more shop talk. They played an odd version of twenty questions where Pepper asked thoughtful things like, “When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?” (an astrophysicist) and “Who inspires you?” (Mom, in the most complicated way), but Bea could only come up with the dullest questions in the world for Pepper, like, “What’s your favourite colour?” (red, maybe gold, too), and “What’s your favourite movie?” (Working Girl, apparently an 80's flick that Bea just had to see).
Pepper didn’t seem to mind Bea’s terrible questions, answering enthusiastically every time. Bea loved learning new things about Pepper, and she got the impression the feeling was mutual when she cracked a joke funny enough to have Pepper laughing off her lounger.
Bea and Pepper, changed back into their clothes and looking considerably fresher than when they’d walked in, left as they were greeted, as if they’d been a thousand times before, and Bea had the strange thought that she could get used to this.
Happy was there to pick them up, fighting a smile at the sight of them. “You two look shiny.”
Bea flicked her hair dramatically, only relishing a little bit at how soft and defined her curls now were. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” she quipped and the laugh that followed was genuine.
The drive home was pleasantly uneventful, spent mostly pondering the night ahead with Peter as Pepper caught up on her missed emails. Despite everything she’d admitted, Bea really was excited to see him. It had been far too long since things between them had been normal, if she could even consider her life before normal.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
pedroparker: as promised, here are the details for tonighttt
pedroparker: time: 6ish? location: a surprise (deal w it). dress code: whatever’s comfortable (not at all related but u look really pretty in that blue dress u bought ages ago) uhhh what else, i’m (/tony’s) paying so all u gotta bring is you
bumblebea: oh def let the billionaire pay. also u should know i don’t like surprises.
pedroparker: i do know that but i think you’ll like it
bumblebea: i’m gonna ask happy
pedroparker: good luck he’s basically a fortress
bumblebea: you could just … tell me :(
pedroparker: and you could just … wait :(
bumblebea: wow
Bea leaned towards Happy in the front seat. "Hey, Happy,” she started slowly.
“Hey, Beatrice,” he mimicked.
“Tony’s asking for the address for tonight,” she lied. “Pete only told me the name, is it that place on, uh, Broadway?”
Happy clicked his tongue. “Nice try, kiddo. Tony knows exactly where we’re going tonight.”
“Come on, don’t you think I should know, too?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug and Bea sat back with a frustrated groan. Pepper didn’t look up from her phone.
“Do you know where he’s taking me?”
Pepper blushed slightly, but still didn’t look up.
“You do!” Bea cried, shifting to face Pepper. “Tell me, please.”
“It’s a surprise, Bea,” she said, brows furrowed like she really was sorry.
“Fine, fine,” she conceded, sitting back again. “Not even a hint?”
Pepper smiled then. “You’ll have fun, I promise.”
Despite her excitement, Bea wasn’t too sure about that. She debated texting Peter back, telling him outright that all she really wanted was to spend time with him. Nothing overboard, nothing Tony Stark would do, but he seemed keen on his plan—whatever it was that somehow included a fancy blue dress.
As soon as they made it home, Bea excused herself to her room with the terrible excuse that she wanted to ‘chill’ before tonight. Pepper and Happy only shared a knowing look before nodding, but Pepper caught her before she disappeared down the hall.
“If you need an extra pair of eyes tonight,” she started hesitantly, “when you’re getting ready, or if you can’t pick an outfit, just … let FRIDAY know. I’m happy to help.”
Bea couldn’t quell the tightening of her throat as she smiled, nodded once, and headed for her room. The offer was, of course, redundant since Bea knew exactly what she was going to wear and had no intention of letting anyone witness her pathetic makeup skills.
She tossed her phone down on the bed, kicking her shoes off as she went, and started rifling through her wardrobe for the dress. But as she pulled it out, admiring the silhouette and the beautiful shade of blue, she thought of the last time she’d tried the dress on and just how different everything had been. How different she had been.
Bea crossed the room to her mirror and held the dress up to herself, pulling the waist taut, and frowned when she grabbed at entire handfuls of extra fabric. More had changed than she thought, clearly. Perhaps a belt? Maybe a jacket?
Only three hours stood between her and Peter’s planned evening, yet the afternoon seemed to disappear—almost like it knew how desperately she wanted the time to stretch out and shortened out of sheer spite.
The next time she checked her phone, though, she had thirty minutes before Peter was due, and there was nothing she could do to make the blue dress fit. She considered asking for Pepper’s help, but something made her pause. The dress just wasn’t comfortable, so maybe she needed to try for comfort rather than beauty. Rifling through her closet one last time, she only considered the Stark Industries workwear for a moment before breezing past, and instead finding her Levi’s and a white satin blouse. A matching pair of shoes, some jewellery, and Bea finally felt decent.
A knock at her door, and Bea called, “Coming!”
But it was Tony who poked his head in. “Just me.”
“Oh.” Bea took a quick glance at the state of her room, as did he, but she let her shoulders relax anyway. “Yeah, come in. Is Peter here?”
“Not yet. Wanted to see how you were going.” His eyes skittered over to the blue dress slung over the back of her desk chair. “You look nice.”
“Will it do?” Bea worried, dashing back over to check one last time in the mirror. “Pete never told me what we’re doing.”
“It’s a surprise.”
“No, I know, it’s just that a heads up would be nice.”
He cocked his head. “Not knowing is kinda the whole point of a surprise.”
“Well, I hate it.”
“No you don’t.”
Bea chewed her lip, glancing back at Tony. “No, I don’t. I just … I want tonight to be normal.”
“And what does normal look like?”
Mattresses pushed together in the living room. Pizza in bed and grease stains on the sheets. Piled up homework and a boy who chooses the window over a door. “I’m not sure these days.”
Because the truth was, no matter how much she wanted it, those days weren’t coming back. She couldn’t undo all the awful things that had happened, and she certainly couldn’t go back to being the person she used to be.
“You’ll have fun tonight. Promise,” Tony said, checking his watch. “Pete’s here. You ready?”
Butterflies in their thousands erupted in her stomach but she smiled, nodded, and fetched her phone before following him out the door and down the hall, into the living room.
Peter looked incredible, enough so that Bea wanted to turn around and try one last time to make that stupid dress work, but then his eyes met hers and his face lit up. He stopped mid-sentence, talking to Pepper at the kitchen island, before excusing himself to meet Bea halfway.
“Hi,” he said almost breathlessly. “You look really pretty.”
Bea couldn’t fight her grin or the warmth that stained her cheeks. She gestured at his pressed trousers and his neat button-down, and said, “You too. Not pretty—I mean, you look pretty but also handsome. Good. You look nice.”
“You too.”
“You already said that.”
His eyes grazed down her, from her head to her toes. “It needs to be said twice.”
Tony groaned from the island, his arm slung around Pepper. “God, it’s like watching a car crash.”
“Hush,” Pepper laughed, gently smacking Tony’s shoulder. “Have fun, you two. Be young, be smart, and please follow the rules.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Peter said diligently, taking Bea’s hand in his own and leading her to the elevator. They said a quick goodbye before the doors closed and they were alone.
“Tell me where we’re going?” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand. “No.”
“Please?”
His eyes found hers, gleaming despite the low light, and he smiled. “Still no.”
Happy was waiting for them beside the beautiful black sedan Tony had taken her out in, and greeted them with a rare smile as he opened the back door. “Evening,” he said.
Bea slid in first, then Peter, and in no time at all, they were on the streets of New York City.
She had grown up here—maybe not in these exact parts, but the city was her home—and yet she’d never seen it like this. The car’s tinted windows made all the lights seem to shine so much brighter in the darkness, and there were people everywhere. They were in amongst all the honking, the shouting and laughter of tipsy partygoers, but Bea had never felt so at-ease.
She glanced to her left in the darkness to find Peter watching her, a soft smile on his face and unspoken words in his eyes. He reached for her hand and this time it was Bea’s turn to squeeze, once, twice.
Happy continued driving to a destination unknown and Peter continued to hold her hand, leaving Bea wondering what their night ahead might have in store.