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“Lord save me from crazy white boys,” were probably going to be Rhodey’s last words. He was begrudgingly following behind Tony as they were given a tour of the Stark family property that was located about 50 miles upstate. For someone who was in love with horror movies, Rhodey’s best friend was super oblivious to the obvious “get out” signs.
“And over here you can see that they kept the original crown molding,” Mabel, the soft-spoken and mousey-looking estate manager said, a hand sweeping up towards the ceiling.
“Yeah, nice,” Tony said absentmindedly. “Totally going to have to knock out that wall to make the kitchen bigger, yeah Rhodey?”
Rhodey narrowed his eyes. “Is no one gonna mention those marks on the window?”
Even with the rain drizzling down the pane, it was clear to see that the window in question had obvious and strangely-positioned scratch marks gouged into the edges. There were matching scrapes taken out of the ledge and adjacent walls.
Mabel’s smile went a little strained, “I think, uh, that that window might be a bit difficult to open.”
Rhodey gave her a skeptical look, but Tony had already abandoned them both to look into the next room, muttering about plumbing and updated circuit breakers. He took a deep breath, shook his head, and followed.
“I mean, do you think we really need a dedicated dining room? I figure if we knock out this wall and extend the kitchen, we can just have a breakfast bar or something.”
“You’re really getting into this cooking thing, aren’t you.”
“Gotta have something to do while we’re out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Hey, man, you’re the one who wanted to do the whole ‘unplugged summer vacation’ thing. I’m just along for the ride, as usual — and to make sure you don’t die of scurvy when you inevitably try to dismantle all the appliances and forget to eat.”
Tony already had his pocketknife out, using the blade to unscrew one of the electrical outlet covers to peer inside.
“Careful, Tones,” Rhodey cautioned.
“Don’t worry! The power’s not even connected ri—” Tony jerked back, shaking his finger, “Youch! Must be static build-up from the dry air.”
Rhodey eyed the rain which was starting to pour down by now, and the wall-to-wall hardwood floors. “Dry. Right.”
Tony drummed his fingers against the wall. “Well, with only a few electrical lines going through this wall, and it not being load-bearing, this should be pretty easy to demo.” He slapped the wall. “Hey, can we see the basement? I wanna take a look at the circuit breakers.”
“Of course! Right this way.” Mabel said, shepherding them around a winding hall into a nearly pitch-black staircase. The lack of power and the growing storm made for less-than-ideal viewing conditions. Thankfully, the base of the staircase seemed to lighten back up, probably owing to some ground-level basement windows.
Rhodey held back what felt like his fifth sigh of the hour and followed the duo of dumbasses down into the creepy-ass basement. There was enough light to make his way around without fear of tripping, but not enough to feel at all comfortable about being down there. A furnace took up one corner of the room, shiny chrome and ductwork looking cold and lifeless. The basement itself was clean enough, with a marked lack of spiderwebs or random ghost furniture, but Rhodey didn’t let his guard down. Something just felt off.
“As you can see, there’s ample built-in shelving space over here, a half-bath around that corner, and plenty of outlets in case you—”
“Where does that door go to?” Rhodey interrupted.
The door in question was halfway hidden at the back of the room, and had three padlocks and a sliding lock on it.
The estate manager looked flustered. “Oh, um. Nowhere, I guess. Maybe the backyard? We don’t have the keys to that door.”
“Old house, makes sense!” Tony chirped, sight-leveling the shelves.
“Why does it have like ten locks on it?”
“Hmm?” Mabel just smiled absentmindedly at Rhodey, but Tony was already moving on.
Rhodey pursed his lips and followed the two back up the stairs, keeping an eye on the basement as they retreated.
“Next up is the master bedroom — it’s right up on the second level,” Mabel instructed.
“Great,” Tony clapped his hands once, “Let’s see what we have to work with.”
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna try to fit your California King bed into this little cabin’s master bedroom,” Rhodey asked. “We’re only gonna be here for the summer, man.”
Tony just wiggled his eyebrows at Rhodey in amusement. The smirk fell off his face at the sight of the bedroom, though. It wasn’t small, but it definitely wasn’t going to fit Tony’s ridiculous mattress preferences.
“Eh, I’ll make it work. If I could survive the MIT dorms with that guy,” Tony bobbed his head in Rhodey’s direction, “I can survive this.”
“Tones, it’s a reasonably-sized room; you’re being ridiculous.”
“Well, hopefully the closet of the master bedroom makes up for things” Mabel piped up. “It’s a walk-in, and quite generously-sized.”
“Nice!” Tony said, ducking his head in briefly. “I'm guessing that door's the master bath?”
“Hold up,” Rhodey said, grabbing the back of Tony’s shirt to halt his momentum. He turned to Mabel. “What’s this little door inside the closet?”
“What little—? Oh, I hadn’t noticed that!”
Rhodey carefully made his way into the closet, knelt down, and placed his hand on the handle. The door was only about two feet tall, the size of a large air conditioning vent. Taking a fortifying breath, he wrenched the door open.
Tony and Rhodey stared into a dark and empty room. A faint breeze seemed to be coming from somewhere as they gaped in silence.
Rhodey stared at Tony for a beat. “Listen. I’m not gonna say ‘haunted,’ but I am gonna say ‘squatting serial killer.’”
“Pshhhh. You’re paranoid, man. I’m thinking ‘secret cheese fridge.’ Right over there,” Tony pointed. “Is there an outlet or will I have to rig up—” Tony started to crawl further into the murder-room.
“Ah, no. We’re not doing this now. There’s dust all over that room and I don’t wanna hear you whining about your allergies all night.” Rhodey closed the door with a definitive thud, then closed and secured the closet door too, for good measure. By the time he was done staring down the doors, wondering if it would be overkill to try tying the doors shut, Tony was calling out to him from the hallway.
“Hey, Platypus, shake a leg. We’re gonna go check out the backyard while there’s a lull in the rain.”
Rhodey abandoned his vigil, but did make sure to firmly close the master bedroom door behind him as he left. He rubbed his eyes and headed back down the stairs. He was starting to get a headache from dealing with so much stupid.
The backyard was nice, despite his feet sinking into the sodden grass unpleasantly. There was a small garden off to the side looking unsurprisingly happy for the spring shower, small red and gold flowers brightening up the view.
“We have a lawn service scheduled to come out for general upkeep once a month, but you can definitely change that schedule or cancel it altogether if you’re interested in doing it yourself.” Mabel said.
“Nah. They can continue doing the work, thanks. I have a bad history with plants.”
“You saw a spider once and threw out the entire ficus,” Rhodey said. As an aside to Mabel, “The man can’t deal with bugs. I think it’s a phobia.”
“Excuse me, those are arachnids and some of them are venomous. It’s a perfectly reasonable fear and therefore not a phobia.”
“All I’m saying is you should go see someone about it,” Rhodey said with a grin, nudging Tony’s shoulder.
“Oh, look,” Tony said, obviously desperate for a distraction. Mark one win for Rhodey. “There’s your mystery door.” Tony pointed to a half-hidden set of steps leading to the underside of the house.
Rhodey gave Tony a look. “You realize that that door is on the opposite side of where the basement is, right?” He walked around to the side of the house, feet squish-squish-squishing in the waterlogged soil. “The door should let out… about here.” Rhodey pointed to a blank section of wall.
“Huh,” Tony said. “You’re right. That’s weird. Hey, did you see the—”
“‘That’s weird’? That’s all you have to say?”
“What? It’s a Stark property. Strange architecture is par for the course, right? Hey May? How soon can we get someone out here to get the electricity turned back on? I want to be able to move in ASAP.” Tony bounced over to Mabel like an excited puppy, talking closing dates and utilities.
“Well, I guess I’ve lived a good life,” Rhodey muttered to himself. He was going to need a Costco-sized bottle of antacids.
- - -
A few days later, Rhodey had an old album balanced on his lap as he lounged on the sofa.
“Hey Tones, aren’t they legally required to tell you if people died in the house you’re about to live in?”
“Oh, that,” Tony’s voice came from the kitchen as he paused in his demolition efforts. “No, yeah, May told me.”
Rhodey twisted around, glaring even though Tony couldn’t possibly see him. “And when were you gonna tell me, might I ask?”
“What’s the problem? Those were ages ago, and all ancient geezers. It was probably old age — or liver failure, knowing my family.”
“Haunted,” Rhodey muttered under his breath, continuing to flip through the album.
“How’d you find out about it, anyway?”
“It’s all in the creepy-ass scrapbook you left sitting out on the table.”
“What scrapbook? I didn’t see any—”
A huge CRASH from the kitchen followed by a scream made him jump up and run over.
“What the hell, man? You should’ve gotten me if you were gonna try to take down the lights; that’s a two-person job.”
Tony looked a bit dazed, back pressed against the kitchen counter and clutching a screwdriver with a death grip. “I wasn’t even near them. I was going to do that this afternoon.”
“Shit. We're gonna need hardhats living in this place. Wait here, and I’ll get the broom — be careful about the broken glass.”
Rhodey had to check in two closets before finding the broom, inexplicably wedged into the bathroom linen closet. Weird.
“Here’s the broom, man. Where’d we stash the first-aid kit? All the construction noises are giving me a migraine.”
“Should be in the front room. Since you’re going there anyway, snag me some aspirin, too?”
- - -
Over the course of the week, strange things continued to happen. Tony shrugged it off when Rhodey mentioned seeing dark shadows out of the corner of his eye that mysteriously disappeared (Maybe we have rats? I’ll call an exterminator). When tools and items kept getting misplaced, he wrote it off as absentmindedness (It’s a mess in here and you know me, Rho — always thinking of five things at once.).
A few times, they got into arguments because every single one of the windows in the house had been left wide open.
“Tony, not again! It’s hot enough in here, not to mention the mosquitos.”
“I’m telling you I didn’t leave them open! Just close them if it bothers you so much.”
The last straw for Rhodey happened in the middle of the night, a week after moving in. He was woken up from a dead sleep by Tony screaming his name. He sprinted down the hall in socked feet, running through the master bedroom doorway before slipping and stumbling into the closed bathroom door.
“Tony!” Rhodey burst into the bathroom, improvised clobbering device (the giant wrench he found on Tony’s dresser) held high. “Hah!” He bellowed.
Tony stared at him with wide eyes. The bathroom appeared completely empty, devoid of both ghosts and serial killers.
“Um,” Rhodey lowered the wrench.
“There were— There were spiders,” Tony whispered hoarsely.
“You woke me up for a bug?” Rhodey asked. The wrench fell from nerveless fingers, hitting the floor with a clang.
Tony didn’t offer his usual “they’re arachnids” banter. He was panting and trembling slightly, and looked paler than usual. “No, I mean spiders, like hundreds of them coming out of the sink — from the spout, the drain...”
“C’mon, man. Look, I don’t see anything here anymore. Your spider’s long gone; you’re okay. Let’s go sit down—”
“And the blood...”
“Blood?! Are you hurt?” Rhodey yelped. It was way too early/late for this.
“No, from the sink. I’m fine.”
Rhodey looked closer, and sure enough there were clear and obvious smears of blood around the drain. Rhodey frowned. He blinked hard, rubbed his eyes, and swiped a finger through the mess. It didn’t feel like blood. Upon closer examination...
“Tones.” Rhodey said comfortingly, “This is just disgustingly rusty water from the pipes. Has it been like this in here this whole time? That’s not safe, man.”
Tony was still shaken from whatever he’d seen.
“Do you wanna get out of here for the night?” Rhodey offered. Haunted or no, messed up plumbing was a perfectly logical reason to get his best friend out of this creepy messed-up house. He hadn’t even seen anything and his hands were still trembling. Adrenaline letdown was a bitch. “We can pick up bottled water in the morning and call in a plumber if you’re dead set on coming back tomorrow.” He offered.
After a long pause staring at the sink with a grimace, Tony nodded and silently turned around to grab some of his things from the bedroom.
(Rhodey didn’t mention the faint “GET OUT” message written on the mirror in soap, in what seemed to be Tony’s handwriting. They were leaving and that was the important part.)
- - -
Things seemed a lot less dire in the morning. Rhodey’s constant headache seemed to vanish and the sun was finally out for the first time in days. Still, Tony was eager to get back. A quick stop by a local grocery store and they were loaded up with a few pallets of bottled water and an impressive array of bug sprays. Tony declared himself ready to wage World War Bug, and with a weary gaze to the heavens Rhodey opened the cabin’s front door for Tony. It was a pleasant summer day and Rhodey was starting to rethink his “haunted house” declaration as he announced that he was going on a pizza run.
“I’m not trusting the water in this place until it gets checked out by a professional, not to mention your half-finished kitchen renovations!”
When Rhodey returned, balancing four pizza boxes in one hand (leftovers, man), the front door was stuck. The key definitely unlocked the deadbolt — he could hear it turning — but the door itself wouldn’t budge. Rhodey tried knocking on the door. It’d probably be easier to force it from the inside by pushing. There was no answer, however, even after a few minutes. Thanks to their "unplugged summer," he didn't have his phone on him.
“Just. great.” Rhodey muttered, banging on the door a few more times halfheartedly.
Out of nowhere, the sky went dark with a thunderous groaning noise and a strong gust of wind nearly upended his stack of pizzas. Rhodey dropped the keys to save his lunch, but had a hard time fighting against the wind. The pizzas were torn from his hands, going flying, and Rhodey was only barely able to keep his feet as he clutched at the door frame for balance.
“The hell!” he yelled, pounding on the door. “Tony! C’MON!” Leaves and small branches started to rain down as the wind tore through the trees, stinging his skin. He raised an arm to protect his head as he kept pounding the door. “LET! ME! IN!”
Just then, the door opened and it was like a switch was thrown. The wind suddenly stopped and the sun was shining as brightly as ever. Only the mess of foliage on the porch and the four pizzas scattered in the bushes showed that anything had even happened.
“Uh. Rhodey? What happened to the pizzas?”
“What the hell, man? Didn’t you hear me yelling?” Rhodey ranted, pulling at his hair. “There is something seriously wrong with this place. I don’t wanna hear any more about eccentric architecture designs or rodent infestations - your place is haunted, Tones. Haunted. I was okay with sticking it out for a while because lord knows someone had to make sure you didn’t accidentally kill yourself, but it’s getting to be too much, man. We gotta get outta here.”
“What are you talking about? There’s no such thing as haunted houses.” Tony insisted. He stepped back inside the house, taking a seat on the staircase steps.
“Are you kidding me? I know we’re both engineers, but there’s way too much crazy shit going on in this house. You gotta admit that something’s wrong.”
“It’s an old house, Rhodey. Sometimes doors just stick. And anyways, it probably speaks more to the craftsmanship of the place that it has such good soundproofing. Sturdy materials, they-don’t-make-’em-like-this-anymore, yadda yadda. You’re free to leave, but I’m staying right here.” Tony insisted. “Seriously, a haunted house. And dude, did you leave the windows open again? What is that smell?”
A puff of smoke followed the faint odor of sulfur, and a man suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, sitting balanced on the banister. “Sorry, that’s me. And no, your friend’s right - the place is definitely haunted.”
Rhodey and Tony stared, speechless. The man was wearing a black motorcycle jacket, had long tangled hair that hung in his face, and was gripping the banister with what looked to be a metal hand with long sharp claws. He had a heavy scowl on his face and looked beyond frustrated with the both of them.
“Boo.”
Rhodey did not shriek, he would later insist, but he did let out a manly bellow as he sprayed the ghostly figure with the entire contents of a nearby fire extinguisher (hey, they had one in every room of the house since Tony lived there). He followed through by winding back and chucking the empty extinguisher at the ghost, watching in horror as it phased right through him without so much as displacing a hair on his head. The ghost just blinked, face blank.
Tony gave Rhodey an unimpressed look. “Seriously?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “What was that supposed to do? Make him chilly?”
“At least I did something! What are you doing, just standing there?”
“Um, excuse me?” Ghost-guy said, brushing extinguisher dust off his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you guys be running by now?”
Rhodey stared him down. Without the shock of his sudden appearance, he didn’t look all that scary anymore.
Tony shook off his shock even faster. “‘Excuse me’? What kind of ghost says ‘excuse me’?”
“I’m not a ghost.” Ghost-guy said. “I’m technically a demon… I think. And manners don’t cost anything.”
“Fine, demon, whatever. So you’ve been making all the weird stuff happen in my house? I gotta say, that doesn’t sound very polite, Mr. Tall-dark-and-brimstone.”
“Tony, don’t provoke the ghost-demon!” Rhodey hissed at him. Dammit. Those were Tony’s flirting eyes. His friend sure could pick ‘em. He felt another migraine building.
Tony, unsurprisingly, ignored the perfectly reasonable instruction, and started walking up the stairs towards the demonic entity. Rhodey reached out to grab onto a sleeve as he passed, and missed.
“Dammit, Tony.” Rhodey said, resigned. Tony didn’t take in any outside information when he got fixated like this.
“And how’s that incorporeal schtick work, anyhow? I’d be super interested in running some tests, if you’re up for it. By the way, you swear you’re not old man Jenkins in a mask, trying to scare us away from some treasure, right?”
The ghost-demon’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know who that is. Can you guys just leave? You can’t be here.”
“Well, I’m living here for the summer, so we’re gonna have to come to some sort of understanding, Casper-the-friendly-ghost.” Tony said reasonably. Rhodey watched in silent horror as Tony grabbed the ghost-demon’s hand and started carefully turning it this way and that, inspecting the metal workings. The ghost-demon didn’t quite know what to do, either.
“I... what? No, I told you, I’m a demon. Just call me Bucky,” He sighed, ran his free hand through his hair, and rocked back on his feet. “You have to leave,” he insisted. “Listen, I’m sorry for all the tricks, but it was necessary. It’s not safe here.”
“Well, yeah, so just stop pulling those ‘tricks’ and we’ll be square.” Tony said, moving on to poking Bucky in the torso. “By the way—” he paused to look him in the eye “—spiders? So not cool.”
“Spiders? I didn’t do anything with spiders.”
Tony looked uneasy. “Damnit. I am calling like twenty exterminators to come out first thing—”
“Can you just call someone to work on the furnace!” Bucky interrupted desperately.
“The what now?”
“The whole house has a major carbon monoxide leak. You guys have been hallucinating — probably have some pretty bad headaches at this point, too. I’ve been trying to tell you. You really shouldn’t be in here, either of you. It’s nasty stuff. I’d fix it but i have no clue what I’m doing, and when I show myself no one ever sticks around long enough to help me.”
“Tony,” Rhodey glared at his friend. “I thought you said you plugged in the carbon monoxide detector.”
“Oops? In my defense, I think that was when I got distracted by the circuit breaker. It’s no problem, though. I’m Mr. Fix-it. Now that I know what the issue is, it should be simple enough to repair. I’ll go turn off the gas at the street until i’m done, and we’ll open up some windows.”
Bucky stared at Tony, unblinking. It looked like he was about to cry. “Just like that?”
“Yeah, easy-peasy. Whoa, you okay big guy?” Tony was suddenly lifted off the ground and spun around in Bucky’s extra-strong grip.
“You have no idea how hard it’s been. Years of trying to scare people away so they don’t die. And I’m not always successful.”
Bucky gently set Tony down and took a quick step back.
With a kind smile, Tony playfully ruffled a hand through Bucky’s hair, “Oh, horns! That’s fun. So! I’m just gonna go hit the gas cutoff. Rhodes — if you could start in on... the... windows…” He trailed off as all the windows smoothly slid open on their own.
Bucky smirked at them. “Maybe we could leave them open this time?”
“Huh. Cool party trick, Casper.” With that, Tony gave Bucky a long once-over, nodded to himself, and headed for the street.
An awkward silence fell. Rhodey silently cursed Tony out for leaving him alone with Tony’s newest fixation. Well, maybe this was a good chance to talk. A best friend’s work is never done.
“So... how’s this whole demon thing work?” Rhodey asked.
“I don’t really know. I’ve been tied to this house for as long as I can remember. There’s not really a manual for how to be who you are, y’know? I promise I’m not evil, for whatever that’s worth. Just very tired of all the deaths and the screaming. I only ever wanted to help.”
“Cool. Cool. Because you break his heart and I’ll figure out some way to break your face, incorporeal or not.”
“Break his— wait. What?”
“Look, I’ve known that man—” Rhodey pointed out the door “—since he was a tiny slip of a boy trying to fake-ID his fourteen-year-old dumbass self into bars. I know his type, and he’s not going to let a few horns and claws get in the way of a good thing.”
Bucky blinked, mouth gaping.
“Okay, that’s taken care of!” Tony exclaimed, jumping back over the threshold. “Whoa. Everything okay?” To Rhodey, “Did you blue screen him?”
Bucky shook himself out of his musings, “I’m fine. ‘Blue screen’?”
“Hey Tones, the dude’s been stuck in this cabin for forever; I don’t think he’s even had access to radio, let alone wi-fi.”
“Oh, easy enough fix!” Tony grabbed Bucky’s hand, careful of the claws, and tugged him the rest of the way up the stairs. “I can set up my phone as a hotspot; we’ll get you techno-savvy in no time.”
“I KNEW you were cheating,” Rhodey yelled out to his friend. “‘Unplugged summer’ my ass,” he muttered to himself. Score one for the best wingman alive, though. He should get a special award for going above and beyond in the face of overwhelming terror. Rhodey figured he should start packing his things. Now that he knew the place was only technically haunted and Tony had someone new to fixate on, Rhodey wanted to be as far away as possible. He loved his friend, but 24/7 Tony-time was a bit too much for Rhodey to handle. His heart couldn’t take it — he needed a vacation from this vacation.
When he peeked into Tony’s room an hour later, duffle bag over his shoulder, he saw the pair sitting on the bed, huddled over Tony’s laptop. Bucky was hesitantly hunt-and-pecking as a grinning Tony supervised. A bit of hair fell into Bucky’s eyes as he looked down at the keys, so Tony carefully reached out and tucked the stray lock behind Bucky’s ear.
Rhodey knocked on the doorframe. “I’m outta here. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“You’re leaving me?” Tony whined with a show of outrage.
“Yeah, well, Mama’s been hounding me every night to come fix up her air conditioning if I feel like being so productive. It’s been on the fritz.”
“Cheater! I knew I wasn’t the only one staying connected on our unplugged summer.”
“Hey now — that was your rule; I never agreed to it. Anyway, I’ll swing by on weekends to hang out but I think we’ll kill each other if we have to stay confined in this cabin together for much longer.”
“Well... Fair enough. Safe travels, Rhodes.”
As he walked out, Rhodey didn’t fail to notice Tony and Bucky’s hands intertwined where they lay together on the bedspread.