Archive of Our Own

Here, Kitty, Kitty

Tony Stark could safely say that he was used to the odd, the strange, and the unusual happening to him. Hell, he had gotten used to the downright crazy, insane, and impossible — and they tended to come in threes like that. He often wondered (as did the people around him) if the universe took that pragmatic attitude as a challenge, because some of the stuff he had to deal with was . . . well, put it this way: Ripley’s Believe It or Not had given up on calling him because he had too many entries.

Suffice to say, it was hard to surprise him or even throw him for a loop.

But even Tony could never have predicted what would happen the afternoon he followed his protégé/son/pain in the ass mini-me, one Peter Parker, down a dimly-lit alley that was so cliché, it had its own theme music.

About a month earlier, Peter had accidentally fallen over (literally, because it was Peter) an illegal cock-fighting ring. Being Peter, he had not only shut the thing down, he and his equally-as-big pain in the ass but loyal best friend Ned had managed to get all the roosters to a farm that wasn’t too far from Queens. To their credit, they’d done it on their own, no outside assistance required, though the kid couldn’t so much as look at a chicken nugget anymore.

Then, a week later, Peter had run headlong — no, that was sugarcoating things. What actually happened was that he’d face-planted through the door in the middle of a highly illegal dogfight. That one had devolved to the point he’d allowed KAREN to call Tony, who had arrived in time to see his kid get covered by a pile of snarling dogs while a smaller pile of webbed up criminals hurled abuse from the wall. Terrified, he’d been a finger-twitch away from blasting everything that wasn’t Peter with a repulsor when his son emerged, disheveled but unharmed, and stopped him. So it was that Tony got to watch, his jaw hanging open, as nine dogs went from vicious fighting machines to cuddly teddy bears, they were so ecstatic to be freed from the cruelty of their handlers.

Preventing Peter from adopting all of them had taken the better part of a week and required the combined efforts of Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, and, weirdly, Helen Cho. And if Tony had experienced a few minutes of envy at seeing how protective the dogs had become of Peter, well . . . yes. Yes, he had. Thankfully, no one had noticed and he refused to feel guilty for it; given all the betrayals he’d suffered, he thought it was understandable that he sometimes wished to experience loyalty that belonged solely to him.

But that wasn’t a privilege that Tony Stark would ever be granted, and it was something he didn’t think about too often.

It certainly wasn’t on his mind that Friday, when he and Peter realized that they had inadvertently stumbled on an extremely well-organized animal smuggling ring, which they had disrupted way back with the aforementioned cock-fighting. This particular bust, which Peter had quickly realized was too big for him to handle and had actually asked Tony for help on, was centered on exotic animals. Taking down the members of the ring, both the seller and the buyers, hadn’t been difficult at all, but figuring out what to do with the animals was a whole different kettle of fish (if one would pardon the pun).

The baby elephant had been a surprise, the Beluga whale moreso. A mated pair of silver wolves, four peacocks, a partridge in a fucking pear tree (because his life wasn’t surreal enough), a mated pair of lions, five French hens, three baby crocodiles/alligators/one of each (he’d never know and that was fine with him), a panda bear, a koala cub . . . Tony hadn’t seen that many international agencies in one room in his life. And they were making a cacophony that easily overshadowed the caterwauling and screaming of the unhappy, confused animals, some of whom took exception to being upstaged. Watching a haughty French animal control officer get trumpeted into silence by a ticked-off elephant would forever be one of Tony’s fondest memories, though the melee itself was giving him a headache.

And then it happened.

Peter had heard something whining, something no one else could hear over the racket, and had gone to investigate. A startled yowl of fright had jolted a watchful Tony into action and he’d barreled over there, fully expecting to see that his recently-adopted son was being mauled by a polar bear or something equally absurd.

He was half-right: it was a leopard. Because it was Tony and Peter, things had to go not just one extra mile, but two: it was a black leopard. More specifically, it was a black Amur leopard, one of the rarest animals on earth. And it was doing its best to maul its rescuer, but since it was a cub, it was less ‘mauling’ and more ‘gnawing’. Still, Peter was clearly uncomfortable but unwilling to use force to get the cat off him, so Tony sighed and resigned himself to getting covered in scratches. He didn’t dare come down in the suit or he’d likely make the baby death machine even more afraid, so he landed as quietly as possible on the upper landing and retracted the suit before approaching the duo, making a reasonable amount of noise to keep from startling the cub.

Peter’s wide eyes met his over one furry black shoulder, and Tony just shook his head. This was typical Parker Luck, which was why neither of them was actually surprised at the odd turn things had taken.

Then he reached out, slowly and carefully, and laid a steady hand on the cub’s head.

An electric shock jolted through him and man and cat both yelped. Then it jumped off Peter and spun around, pinning Tony with huge green eyes.

Time stopped.

And Tony found himself slowly kneeling on the ground, holding both hands out with his palms sideways, waiting with bated breath as the cub slowly walked toward him, never blinking or looking away. When it reached Tony, it lifted its head and nuzzled into his left hand, and time stopped again.

It felt like a starburst had just exploded in Tony’s heart and he gasped, dizzy at the indescribable sensation of some kind of mental bond forming between him and this tiny, baby leopard, who was staring at him so trustingly from beneath his shaking hand.

He had no idea how long he and the cub stayed there, gazes locked, but Peter’s voice finally broke through the haze surrounding him and Tony blinked. It took a lot of effort to force his gaze away from the baby leopard who had, apparently, taken up residence in his mind, and he slowly turned to his son, vaguely aware that he was scaring him . . . only to blink again, sluggishly, when he realized that Peter wasn’t scared or worried or even concerned.

He looked . . . ecstatic?

The absence of Standard Peter Behavior, at least when it came to Tony, was enough to jar him awake, and he cleared his throat, feeling the fogginess from . . . whatever the hell had just happened to him . . . start to dissipate. When he took a deep breath and tilted his head back so he could meet Peter’s eyes, the kid grinned like a loon and laughed delightedly, sitting back on his heels.

“This is so cool, Mister Stark!” he chirped, gesturing to the cub, who responded by snuffling loudly and pushing his head more firmly into Tony’s hand. Startled, Tony instinctively looked down and promptly melted again at the sight of those trusting, soulful eyes meeting his. Without any input from his brain, he began working his fingers through the cat’s ridiculously soft fur, stroking it the same way he loved to pet Peter’s curls.

. . . okay, that was seriously out-of-character behavior for him.

Before he could follow that thought any further, Peter spoke again and inadvertently answered all twelve urgent questions swirling in Tony’s mind.

Of course, he also raised a few dozen more, but in the grand scheme of things, Tony couldn’t be too concerned. Not at the moment, at least.

Because the next thing his son said was, “I’ve read about this, but I didn’t know that Familiar bonds still existed.”

Now, Tony Stark was many things, but most people wouldn’t think that one of them was a lover of fantasy novels and movies (Willow was fucking awesome, especially for its time). So when Peter made his Grand Announcement, time froze for the . . . what, third time today? Because Tony knew exactly what he meant and couldn’t dispute it, because he had also done the research, back in the day, and learned that Familiar bonds were real, though they were vanishingly rare. Following that logic, he had discovered that the rarity of such bonds had invariably caused them to fade first into legend and then myth (yeah, he was a Lord of the Rings fan too; what’s your point?), until they could only be found in the imagination of those people who dared dream of a world with magic.

So finding out that he was half of a pair-bond so rare, one hadn’t been confirmed in at least three hundred years?

Well. Yes.

He was stunned that it wasn’t Peter, for obvious reasons, but he made no attempt to deny it and severing it never occurred to him.

Now, having said all that: What. The. HELL?!

Fortunately for everyone concerned, Tony had a very well-developed ability to multitask, so while the major portion of his brain was preoccupied with the fact that he had literally just pair-bonded with a black leopard cub (a tiny part of his mind was doing cartwheels because Peter was right: this was so fucking cool!!!), he was still able to summon the authority of Tony Stark, owner and CTO of Stark Industries. Paired with the power of Iron Man, and backed by the stuttering agreement of the seller — who was terrified, awestruck for a lot of reasons, and so jealous he was drooling — he left the warehouse with twenty-three signed NDAs, a graphic description of exactly how he would salt the earth if ANY of them opened their big fat mouths, his superhero son, and a four-month-old leopard.

In a bizarre turn of events, Peter was the calm one at the moment and he summoned Ned, because out of everyone they both knew, he was the only one who was a) in the city and b) wouldn’t accuse him of being insane for going along with this whole ‘Familiar Bond’ nonsense. Did he stutter unintelligibly at Tony? Of course. Did he have 3,473,598 questions about the Bond, all of which he had the presence of mind to direct at Peter? Absolutely. Did he drive them to a pet store off the beaten path and stock the still-unnamed cub up on toys, food, a bed, five scratching posts, and a Spiderman collar and matching shirt that were so adorable, Tony actually cooed at them? Yes, he did.

He also called MJ, who arrived in her uncle’s truck, armed with an unimpressed look, a brand-new sketchpad, and an unopened box of treats. No words were exchanged between MJ and Peter, and she restrained herself to giving Tony a single sardonic look before Ned’s enthusiasm bubbled over again and he started rambling at her while the supplies were loaded up. The pet store owner never knew that she had served The Great Tony Stark that afternoon, but she did get a rather large anonymous donation several weeks later. As they entered the Tower’s private garage, Ned’s excitement finally began to taper off and they parked in relative quiet.

The whole time, the cub had been settled against Tony’s side, head in his lap and purring in utter contentment at the petting and head-scratches he was getting from both Peter and Tony, who hadn’t spoken since they left the warehouse. When they finally got out of the car, Tony’s thigh had gone to pins and needles, but he didn’t hesitate to gather his leopard in his arms and carry him to the elevator. The events of the day had finally caught up with him, though, and he knew he was abnormally tense and quiet.

Peter sensed it as well and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before circling back to Ned and starting to organize getting their new resident’s stuff upstairs. Once that was done, MJ showed her practical side and coordinated with JARVIS to make the necessary renovations for an indoor enclosure truly suited to a jungle cat. FRIDAY took her own initiative and started searching for property that was far enough from the city that the cub could run and exercise outside in privacy, but close enough that Tony could still function as SI’s CTO as well as Iron Man.

Tony knew none of this; the second he got to his bedroom, his intentions to shower, eat, and bribe Ned and MJ for their silence shattered like spun sugar when he made the rookie mistake of sitting down on the bed. The next thing he knew, it was close to 1 o’clock the next afternoon and he was curled on his side, his leopard cub tucked against his torso.

The rest of that day, and then the week, passed in something of a blur. Peter, Ned, and MJ had done an excellent job at converting the empty common room one floor down to a gym suitable for a leopard cub; between them and FRIDAY, they’d turned it into an indoor jungle, complete with sounds and a waterfall cascading down one wall (something Tony had often considered but always decided against for reasons he couldn’t articulate. Trust his new bondmate to force the issue. Then again, he was a cat). To his surprise, Tony found that organizing and reorganizing and arranging and just generally futzing with the cub’s various toys and scratching posts and cat beds was extremely soothing, particularly when it was accompanied by the contented purrs of his sleepy bondmate.

He did, however, draw the line at litter boxes. Instead, he and MJ schemed and planned out the world’s first indoor bathroom designed solely for a feline, complete with self-flushing toilet, sunken Jacuzzi tub, and a motion-activated wall-unit hair dryer (which Dyson would have killed to see).

After everything that could be done that first day was taken care of, Peter showed his usual people-reading skills (when it came to people other than him, that is), and managed to hover over his father just the perfect amount, knowing that Tony not only needed to adapt to the whole concept of having a Familiar Bond, but also settle into the bond itself, not to mention learning how to live and grow with a leopard, a rather daunting prospect for a man who had never had a goldfish for a pet. All the research indicated that near-total isolation was the best way to allow a new bond to solidify, but Peter knew that Tony did not do well with that much time alone, lab binges aside, and he quickly found an ideal balance.

Fortunately, the cub quickly figured out that Peter was his new bondmate’s cub as well and accepted his presence with little trouble, and the three of them had an unexpectedly relaxing, highly enjoyable week, punctuated with a few visits from Ned and MJ (to no one’s surprise, she ignored everyone but the leopard, who she fawned over as much as MJ could fawn).

Other than settling on a name, that is.

It took five days, twelve baby name books, several consultations with Ned, who had a large family, four languages, the combined efforts of FRIDAY and JARVIS in eliminating a truly epic number of possibilities, and an old movie, spoken in Italian (it was Tony’s night to choose) for the cub to choose his name by yowling excitedly the first time he heard it (and the second, third, and eighth). And so it was that Tony Stark and Fiero solidified their bond.

It should be mentioned that Tony Stark had never been so befuddled in his entire life, and that was including becoming Iron Man and adopting Peter.

But suddenly, and also for the first time in his entire life, there was a creature who was completely devoted to him, one who loved him beyond all reason and would do anything to protect him or just make him laugh. And there was so much laughter, it was unreal. Tony hadn’t laughed so much or so often in his entire life. Fiero was a cub, a baby, who experienced all the clumsiness and foibles of a baby. He tripped over his own feet more than Peter did and, when he wasn’t sprawled all over Tony, contorted himself into pretzels that Olympic gymnasts would be jealous of to sleep.

Watching Fiero and Peter negotiate cuddle times and positions was hilarious, and watching them bond over TV shows and movies was . . . well, frankly, it was terrifying. All three of them agreed that Star Trek: The Original Series was the best, but there was a three-way tie on the original Star Wars trilogy, Fiero hated Peter’s current obsession Brooklyn 99, and cat and kid had a deeply shared disdain for Tony’s love of the original Battlestar Galactica. Mythbusters, however, was a mutual favorite.

Most important of all, though, was the fact that Tony took a vacation for the first time since Afghanistan. He finished the small stack of paperwork that had a deadline, but that was it. He didn’t feel the need to be in his lab, tinkering, to keep his mind distracted, and, while he missed Pepper badly, Fiero’s presence eased it a lot. So not only did Tony relax, he also actually rested, and his new bondmate also allowed him and Peter to get some much-needed father/son bonding time as well, but the cub’s existence kept them from spending too much time together, while simultaneously managing to keep Peter from spending every possible second out as Spiderman.

It was, quite possibly, the best week any of them had experienced. Tony was happy in a way he couldn’t remember, and Peter had finally settled into his place as Tony’s son and heir . . . and pseudo-brother to a baby jungle cat. Which, as Tony pointed out wryly, still wasn’t the strangest thing that had ever happened to the boy.

Then Pepper and Happy returned from her business trip to Spain.

And they all found out very quickly just what, exactly, it meant to have a Familiar Bond with a natural-born predator who was possessed of full-blown protective instincts and the control of a ten-year-old child.

Tony hadn’t told Pepper, Rhodes, or Happy what had happened; it wasn’t exactly something that could be explained by email and, frankly, he had no desire to be lectured and/or screamed at over the phone, because that tended to be their default response to anything he did that they didn’t like, agree with, or understand. And it wouldn’t be any easier to explain via phone call, either. Hell, Tony was currently living the experience and still couldn’t describe it all that eloquently.

So he decided to keep things quiet until they were home, so they could see it for themselves.

At first, things were great. Peter had taken Fiero down to his playroom so Tony and Pepper could have badly-needed privacy for their reunion. However, it only took two hours to discover the truth to the warning repeated in every source on Familiar Bonds: the newer the bond, the more uncomfortable separation was. Well, having experienced such a separation, Tony had sworn that if he ever found the moron who described the sensation as ‘uncomfortable’, he was going to lock him in a sealed room with Steve Rogers and leave his ass there.

It turned out that being separated from Fiero for that long, even if he was just a floor away, escalated the sensation from a quiet hum in Tony’s mind to a screaming siren and a rapidly growing need to see him and make sure he was okay. The jumble of emotions he was getting across the bond told him Fiero wasn’t coping any better and he was waiting at the elevator, getting bowled over by an unhappy leopard cub who was chattering loudly in distress and flooding Tony’s thoughts with a kind of panic he’d rather not experience again. Peter followed Fiero, looking more than a little traumatized, and gave his father a rueful look. Neither of them had expected it to be this bad, but they’d gotten pretty good at rolling with the punches over the last week, and Tony soothed his bondmate and his son together with little true panic.

In the process, though, he’d forgotten that Pepper was there.

So when she gasped in shock, it startled him badly enough that he fell back on his ass and ended up with a lapful of leopard cub.

Silence reigned for several minutes as cat and woman stared at each other, but then Pepper made the fatal mistake of treating Tony the same way she always treated him when he did something she didn’t like, approve of, or understand.

She started to lecture him in that tone of voice that never failed to get his hackles up, because he wasn’t a fucking child. And while he could be impulsive, yes, he wasn’t this impulsive, and he sure as hell wasn’t this stupid. Building a particle accelerator in his lab was one thing; adopting not just an animal, but a wild jungle animal, was something else entirely. But Pepper and Happy and even Rhodes never stopped to consider that ‘impulsive’ did not automatically equate to ‘stupid’, and it was something that profoundly irritated Tony, though he’d never said anything. He was well-aware of his own arrogance and knew that sometimes, putting up with him was a lot to ask.

But his silence had allowed them to assume their behavior was okay, and it had naturally escalated, meaning that while Tony was annoyed at being lectured like a child by his fiancée, he was also resigned to it. And to be fair to Pepper, it was a very strange situation. It was understandable that her reaction wasn’t going to be the best, and her control freak tendencies, paired with her ‘manage Tony’ attitude, resulted in a blistering tirade, one delivered in an increasingly shrill voice, and one that he wasn’t remotely surprised to receive.

Fiero, however, did not share his bondmate’s opinion. Or his restraint.

And the next thing everybody knew, he was standing in front of Tony in a protective stance, teeth bared, hackles raised, one paw lifted toward Pepper, claws splayed in a clear threat, and an aggressive growl filling the room. Tony and Peter were so shocked, they couldn’t do anything but gape, while Pepper’s voice cut off mid-word and she stumbled back several steps, startled and frightened. Fiero held his pose for another few minutes until it became obvious she wasn’t going to resume her lecture, and then he mostly calmed down and returned to Tony’s side. That burning green gaze never left Pepper, however, and it was clear that he was fully prepared to attack should she continue to speak to Tony in a way that he — they — didn’t like.

That was more than shocking enough to send Pepper into a wordless stupor, one Tony took advantage of by standing up, gathering Fiero in his arms, and soothing him along their bond as he walked to Peter’s room, his son obediently following, so he could explain things to Pepper. Neither of his cubs (ha!) wanted to leave him, but Pepper needed some time to wrap her mind around the fact that her fiancé had not just acquired a black leopard cub, but also been gifted with a Familiar Bond. And while Fiero was a baby, he was strikingly intelligent and had gotten very good at reading both Tony’s emotions and intentions over their bond. So while he made his displeasure with the situation clear, he also accepted the necessity of Tony needing to handle this directly and without the distraction Fiero would cause.

But just before Tony stepped into Peter’s room, the cub turned his head, slowly and deliberately, and gave Pepper a narrow-eyed look that promised retribution if she crossed that line again. And maybe Tony should have felt guilty when both affront and low-level fear washed over her face, but he was reaching his saturation point for being treated like a moronic man-child, and having someone who was utterly loyal to him was a gift that he didn’t think he’d ever tire of, or take for granted. He didn’t intend to provoke Pepper, but he’d finally realized that he had had enough and Fiero had also made it clear that he would be aware of what was happening. So if she didn’t show Tony the respect he was due, well . . . there would be trouble.

Not being remotely stupid, Pepper simply nodded. Her shock hadn’t faded much, but like Tony, she was good at rolling with the punches, and being threatened by a leopard cub wasn’t the most dangerous thing she’d faced. Or even the strangest, come to think of it.

Wow. That really said a lot about their lives.

Once Peter had closed his door and Tony and Pepper were in relative privacy, they just stared at each other for several minutes. When it became obvious that Pepper wasn’t going to speak first this time, Tony huffed out a soft laugh and gestured her to the couch, dropping down in his usual elegant sprawl and watching appreciatively as she did the same, searching her gaze intently to see just how seriously she was taking this now that she’d had a chance to absorb things.

When she still didn’t speak after two minutes of scrutiny, he nodded and began. His explanation was actually fairly concise and straightforward, helped along by interjections and clarifications from JARVIS and the research both Tony and Peter had done, and backed up by FRIDAY displaying the two ‘country’ properties he was torn between — and also waiting for Pepper’s input, as she would be there with him at least some of the time.

When he was done, his throat was dry and he got up to grab a drink and some blueberries, pouring her a glass of that sparkling water crap she liked, and took a few minutes to himself before heading back to the living room. He really had no idea how she’d ultimately react, as this situation was unprecedented, even for them, and he wasn’t unaware of just how complicated life with a bonded leopard was going to be.

Having said that, he was really looking forward to the first board meeting with Fiero in attendance. That was going to be EPIC and he took out his phone and sent a notice to JARVIS so he’d record that particular event.

Hey, everybody needed something to make them laugh, okay?

“Thank you,” she murmured when he handed her the glass and sank back into his seat, waiting patiently, albeit trepidatiously, for her to finish gathering her thoughts. Being Pepper, she didn’t keep him waiting long.

Also being Pepper, she threw him for a bit of a loop.

“Well, this is going to be entertaining to watch,” was her opening statement, and she smiled when he blinked several times in response. “Do I at least get to keep my side of the bed?”

. . . well.

Okay, then.

God, he loved this woman.

“Yeah,” he managed to reply. “He’ll stay in our room most nights, we figure, but he’ll be too big for the bed in a couple of months. Umm . . . I . . .”

He trailed off helplessly, not sure what he was trying to say, and she leaned over and cuddled against him — much the way Fiero did, actually, which made him laugh. Once he explained, she giggled as well and then licked his chin before nipping his ear, and suddenly, he was the one in heat. Before he could haul her off to his cave, though, she threw him for another loop, and this one knocked him off the couch in sheer surprise.

“Wait, Tony, I . . . I should have said this first,” she said quietly, pulling back to meet his eyes. “I can’t believe it took a freaking leopard to make me see it, but . . . well, it did. And I did.”

Okay, what? He was so confused.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” she told him, her eyes blazing with sincerity. “I shouldn’t have started yelling at you the way I did and given his reaction, never mind yours, I . . . it’s something I do a lot, isn’t it? Treat you like a misbehaving child instead of asking you first, or even stopping to think.”

Oh.

Um, okay. What — what was he supposed to do now?

Seeing the confusion on his face — and the panic — made Pepper sigh heavily and shift back a little so they could look directly at each other.

“And that right there is biggest reason I’m sorry,” she said plainly, her voice full of self-recrimination now, and he blinked, but didn’t have a chance to respond. “We’ve both gotten so used to it that even when you know you don’t deserve it, you still don’t say anything, because there’s no point. When I get in ‘self-righteous’ mode, I’m a bitch.”

This candid statement sent Tony flailing to the floor, where he landed embarrassingly on his face, eliciting a round of giggles even as she helped him up. But the humor quickly faded when he sat back down on the couch and just stared wordlessly at her for . . . heaven knew how long. She allowed it, her eyes full of understanding and regret, and finally sighed before pulling him to her in a tight hug.

“I’ll work on being a better person, babe, I promise,” she whispered in his ear. “But I need you to speak up, to say something, when I slip. Even if — when — I yell at you for doing it. You’re a strong, capable, mostly-responsible adult and I shouldn’t need to be reminded of that. Just be patient, okay? For all of us, because Happy and Jim are going to have the same reaction and they need the same wakeup call I got. But once it happens, I’ll be there with my stack of paperwork and a bullwhip, ready to beat them into shape. And to have your back, because you deserve to be respected and listened to, Tony, especially in your own home. And quite frankly, Peter needs to see it and start demanding it for himself, too. So I will work on listening instead of jumping to conclusions, and you and Peter will work on asserting yourselves. Fair?”

Dumbfounded, all he could do was nod, which earned him another soft set of giggles, a kiss of promise that instantly turned passionate, and a quickie on the sofa, which put him in a good mood for the rest of the week. Once they’d each taken quick, separate, showers, Pepper gave him a tender look and went to Peter’s door, knocking softly before cracking it open.

Two dark heads hesitantly poked through the small gap, and two pairs of horrified, traumatized, affronted eyes scanned the room before going back to Pepper and Tony, who both blushed tomato red on realizing that their son and their cub had heard them, but chagrin was swiftly replaced with laughter when Pepper, already trying desperately not to giggle, pointed out the fact that teenager and leopard were doing a perfect imitation of twins: they were both the same height, with Peter kneeling and Fiero rearing up on his hind legs, one paw on Peter’s knee for balance, and their heads were canted the same direction and angle as they gave Tony matching betrayed looks, and they just looked so adorable that Pepper melted in an actual puddle, leaving only her earrings behind.

The next thing Tony knew, he was sitting in his recliner, watching incredulously as his son and his bondmate both cuddled with his fiancée, who was crooning to them and petting them and feeding them treats while ignoring the man who had given her both boys.

It was absolutely nauseating.

It was also the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and his heart almost exploded at the realization that three of the most important people in his life loved each other.

Then Happy came in with Pepper’s luggage and BAM!

Repeat of the afternoon.

Well. Mostly.

After another apology about his habit of disrespecting Tony, this one gruff and full of grunts and coughs instead of actual words, hugs were distributed all around and Fiero and Happy quickly came to an understanding that everyone but Tony was satisfied with. It wasn’t like Fiero was going to act as a bodyguard for him, a lie that only Tony believed, so why was an official plan necessary?

Happy just gave him an annoyed look and didn’t answer, while Peter and Fiero curled into Tony after he collapsed on the couch to bemoan such betrayal and Pepper ordered food that Happy declined. Just before he left, though, she told him not to tell Rhodes about this new development. A somewhat awkward silence fell, but it only lasted a few seconds before Happy huffed and said, “Yeah, okay. That’s fair. And probably the best way to do it.”

And with that, the family of four spent the evening catching up and getting to know each other.

James Rhodes’ reaction to seeing and meeting Fiero a few weeks later was every bit as dramatic as it had been for Pepper and Happy, and just as educational. He had known Tony a lot longer, though, not to mention having a harder head, meaning Fiero actually had to grab his arm to get him to stop lecturing . . . and even then, it took seeing Tony’s complete failure to intervene that finally made him stop and think.

Many tears, all of them manly, were shed once Tony finished explaining who and what Fiero was, and Rhodes had the awareness to apologize just as sincerely to Fiero as he did to Tony, something the latter deeply appreciated.

But it wasn’t all sunshine and roses, and nowhere near that easy. It took a long, long time for things to even out, to equalize, and all three of them were forced to learn some hard, ugly lessons. There was a lot of screaming, tears, and accusations, some seriously depressing therapy sessions, and more personal growth than any one person typically experienced in the whole of their life. But Tony finally understood that he was allowed to be happy for himself, and that no one else took precedence over him. There was room for everyone to be happy at the same time, and anyone who tried to make him believe otherwise wasn’t a person he needed or wanted to be around. He also came to realize that he deserved basic human respect, if nothing else, and there was a vast difference between being humble and allowing the disrespect because it was expected or just easier to deal with.

Rhodes and Pepper learned how arrogant they’d become, and how condescending. When Rhodes inadvertently made a direct comparison between Pepper and Steve Rogers, she went catatonic for close to thirty minutes while her mind processed that, trying to refute the accusation with mental gymnastics, frantic justifications, and flat-out denial.

She failed.

Her sobbing apology to Tony was full of self-loathing and self-recrimination, which made him cringe, though he had finally healed enough to know he deserved her apology, so he was able to accept it for what it was. He hated seeing Pepper in pain, especially because of him, but by then, he intellectually understood that her feelings weren’t his fault, and more importantly, in this case they weren’t his responsibility. Her initial poor treatment of him had been borne of frustration with his less-than-stellar behavior, but she finally realized that instead of treating the CEO of Stark Industries, her direct supervisor, like a child, she should have taken a deep breath, removed herself from the situation for a few minutes if necessary, then talked calmly and rationally with him and find out what was going on.

For Tony’s part, he readily admitted that his behavior was frequently childish, especially when she’d first started working for him, but he was also forced to admit that her immediate go-to of ‘managing man-child Stark’ only encouraged him to continue his poor conduct, often deliberately exaggerated just to see what people would do. And thus, the cycle was created; after all, if you’re going to get in trouble either way, you might as well earn it. And once Pepper had ‘irresponsible man-child’ in her mind, that was all she wrote. It permeated everything. Once Tony got used to that attitude from her, he played down to it because it was expected, so there was no point in doing otherwise.

His situation with Rhodes was much the same, only with the added contempt bred from both familiarity and a sibling-like relationship. Rhodes had been forced to acknowledge his shitty treatment of Tony on the plane heading to Afghanistan, his snide, hateful attitude when Tony had been trying to explain his reasoning for closing down SI’s weapons manufacturing, his callous disregard of Tony’s increasingly bizarre and unstable behavior as a result of The Palladium Incident, his betrayal of Tony’s trust and friendship and business by taking War Machine to his most loathed, not to mention incompetent, competitor . . . and the heart-rending knowledge that Tony knew he should have spoken up, had wanted to, but ultimately stayed silent because he couldn’t trust that Rhodes or Pepper would actually listen to him instead of accusing him of faking it for the attention or to get out of doing something.

That was why first Romanova had such an easy time manipulating him, and then Rogers. Since his closest friends so often treated him like dirt, it must be okay for everyone else.

To their shame, neither friend nor fiancée could dispute this. Not after looking back and walking through those times with Tony.

His journey wasn’t any better, or easier. He was forced to see and understand why he acted out so much and so badly, and why he so often allowed himself to be his own worst enemy, especially when he knew better. He had to answer to himself about why he’d let things deteriorate to the point that he simply expected the people who knew him best and should have treated him with the respect they demanded for themselves to disdain him and betray him and infantilize him. More importantly, he was forced to understand why he let it continue even when it finally began to bother him.

Especially when he’d met Peter and been given instant, genuine, honest respect for his abilities and his gifts and his inventions.

But most importantly, Peter respected Tony because he was a person, the same way he respected everyone until they gave him a reason not to.

Being the recipient of such open, honest esteem, something that didn’t wane or became tainted even after several months of acquaintance and a truly epic fuck-up on both Tony and Peter’s parts, opened Tony’s eyes to just how much Rhodes and Pepper’s treatment of him rankled, and it started to get harder and harder to ignore. But he had no idea how to express his feelings, especially knowing that any attempt would immediately be met with derision and accusations of childishness. And so there was a stalemate, one coupled with ever-deepening pressure, which caused deep cracks to form in the foundation.

Then Fiero came on the scene and Familiar Bonded with Tony.

Tony, Rhodes, and Pepper all openly admitted that Fiero had probably saved their various relationships, which the leopard preened at and took full credit for — and it was amazing just how expressive an animal who didn’t possess the ability to speak human words could be. It was also the first time any of them had seen an animal gloat.

Tony was so proud, he could burst. Pepper and Rhodes feared for their sanity. Peter thought the whole thing was hilarious. The therapist booked a month-long vacation in Fiji.

But it was a hard, long, road, to borrow a cliché. It got ugly. It got intense. It became unbearable. There were more than a few times where there was genuine worry that a relationship was going to break and couldn’t be salvaged. However, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, and James Rhodes were three of the most stubborn people on the planet, with absurdly strong wills and a flat refusal to give up that had been demonstrated on many, many occasions. It took a year, but they came through the fire . . . singed and covered with ashes and burns, but unbroken. Powerful. Strong. Sure of themselves and each other.

Of course, Pepper and Tony still had to run Stark Industries during this . . . rebuilding . . . and Tony and Rhodes had to work on the Accords and finally getting Thaddeus Ross arrested and put in prison, along with the Rogues if at all possible. Oddly enough, that actually helped, because it let them vent their frustrations in a productive manner instead of taking them out on each other. Two months after the Familiar Bond was solidified and three weeks after their first therapy session, Tony attended a board meeting that he really didn’t want to be at. However, contrary to popular belief, Tony was well-aware of his duties and responsibilities to SI and didn’t skip out nearly as often as people wanted to believe. It happened, to be sure, but it was rare for him to fail to attend a serious, important meeting.

That did not mean he liked them, enjoyed them, or saw the point in having so damn many of them. But his feelings were . . . magnified . . . thanks to his new Familiar Bond and he was able to admit that he hated the treatment he received in those meetings, but he wasn’t anywhere near sure enough of himself or his feelings to risk rocking the boat yet.

Fiero did not have that problem.

It was Epic. Fiero not only stunned the room due his mere presence, but he also helped them all figure out who was being disrespectful simply because that was their natural personality and who was a genuine detriment to Tony, Pepper, and/or SI as an entity. After they checked the records, it was determined that that meeting was the shortest one on record, going back to the founding of the company. When the next one came around, a much more emotionally-healthy Tony decided to act on a hunch — with Pepper’s knowledge and blessing — and he skipped it.

Well, he skipped it physically. He watched on video from his office, a dangerous smile coming to his lips when Fiero accompanied Pepper, who was uncharacteristically late by fifteen minutes, into the room. At the sight, everyone present turned pale. When the half-grown leopard settled himself comfortably on a chair brought specifically for him, they all swallowed. Hard.

When he fixed his intense green gaze on one of the few holdovers from Obadiah Stane’s regime and licked his lips, she was one of three board members who resigned on the spot. A genuinely shocked Pepper managed to maintain her composure long enough to bargain them into selling their shares of SI stock to Tony, which they also all did on the spot, before conducting the second shortest board meeting on record.

When Tony sauntered in to the one after that, Pepper on his arm and his leopard at his side, another three bolted after selling their shares to the couple. That meeting was the fifth shortest.

Progress was being made, and on all sides.

After that?

They didn’t lose any other board members, but they did lose several shareholders, gaining those shares in the process, and high-level corporate meetings suddenly became much more productive and much more enjoyable.

The fact that a bonded leopard was the reason a room full of grown adults finally started acting like it was carefully hidden from the public, but nothing on earth could stop company gossip, and the employees found it hilarious. Amazingly, considering human nature, there was very little outside gossip, at least until Tony’s first public appearance with Fiero. And even then, the employees kept SI business confined to SI, though most of them readily admitted they were afraid of Fiero’s retribution on Tony’s behalf, should they gossip and cause him any harm or grief. The laws regarding Familiar Bonds were very broad and nobody wanted to test their limits over something as stupid as ‘these grown-ass adults acted so badly that the leopard ran them out of the company’.

So publically, things were going well, no problems, everything was coming up roses. Privately, however, recordings of those first few meetings got a lot of re-watches, and seeing the stiff formality everyone but Tony and Pepper suffered from after Fiero’s introduction and Tony and Pepper’s journey to strong mental and emotional health was pure comedy gold.

On the superhero side of things, it wasn’t quite as easy.

Tony and Fiero quickly realized that the fast-growing cub couldn’t accompany him on most of his Iron Man excursions, though Tony naturally made him a suit. But everywhere else was fair game, and people the world over discovered two things. One: a completed, settled Familiar Bond resulted in the pair sharing the dominant traits that the other didn’t possess. If the trait was mutual, it was heightened exponentially. And two: Tony Stark by himself was much more than merely dangerous. Tony Stark and Fiero? Between Tony’s shared genius, Fiero’s shared predatory drive, and their combined enhanced protective instincts, trying for either of them was suicide, and not the clean kind.

The one person who managed to injure Fiero . . . there literally wasn’t enough of her left to scrape into a gallon sandwich bag, and Tony didn’t get a single complaint from anyone. Well, other than the idiot’s family, but they got shot down immediately, beginning with law enforcement, doing a whirlwind tour of the population at large, and ending with Tony’s lawyers. The entire world, minus the genuinely stupid villains, decreed that Tony had not acted outside the law, not even a millimeter. The woman had hurt a bonded Familiar in a premeditated attempt to kill, and Tony was completely, totally within his rights to respond with lethal force.

Coincidentally, the number of attempts on his life dropped both drastically and rapidly.

Not too long after that welcome change, people quit trying to get to Pepper.

And God help anyone who went after Peter.

For two years, things for the Stark family were good. Great. Amazing, even. Tony and Pepper got married, with Rhodes officiating, Peter serving as the flower girl, and Fiero doing a spectacular job as ring bearer (and yes, that started a nationwide trend of using cats as wedding party members. It lasted for exactly two weddings). Pepper also officially and legally adopted Peter; Rhodes was promoted again; Thaddeus Ross was executed for treason and so many crimes against humanity, the judge didn’t even try to list them all; the Accords were re-worked, amended, and ratified with the full support of multiple enhanced, mutant, and mutate communities; and Pepper and Tony and Peter began talking seriously about the possibility of having another child, either through pregnancy or adoption.

Then SHIELD had to resurrect itself from the ashes of its own corruption and destroy the peace that Tony had worked and bled and suffered to build.

It only took six words: the Rogue Avengers will be pardoned.

The resultant meeting of SHIELD, the Accords Council, and the UN Assembly was calm, controlled, and totally civil.

It was also the most frightening thing any of the attendees had ever experienced. Tony took complete control of the meeting immediately and his rage, fed with the ice of Siberia, the bitterness of betrayal, and the hatred of knowing he had no real choice, turned the UN Assembly Hall positively frigid. His contempt of the weak-willed morons who cared more for their own power than justice or even what was best for their own people sent more than a lot of the assembly slinking to their offices, choking on shame but unable or unwilling to step up and change their minds. The people who genuinely thought that issuing a US pardon and conditionally staying the international charges was the best option were viciously blown back to their territory, hair and clothes disheveled from the hurricane-force winds that was Tony Stark’s righteous fury. And the people who agreed with him or didn’t care either way weren’t enough to overturn the result.

So the Rogues were returning to the US.

But Tony refused to allow them — any of them — to entangle him in this clusterfuck. Pepper had restraining orders taken out against all six of them by the end of the second day, along with official, legal documentation barring them not just from any and all Stark Industries property, but also any property owned by Tony or herself.

The sole exception was the Compound, and even then, the Accords panel found themselves in a self-made, unpleasant situation. They assumed that Tony would revert to form and take over all the tedious, unpleasant, and expensive tasks of housing, feeding, clothing, and arming the people who had betrayed and abandoned everything and everyone they proclaimed to care about — with one glaring exception — while they, the Accords Panel, would be the Masters of the Missions and get to handle all the fun jobs with few of the repercussions.

Yeah, no.

Tony refused to allow the Rogues free rein in his building, and he also refused to ‘donate’ it for the cause, or sell it for anything less than the full appraised value. Since the US government didn’t have $180 million dollars just lying around, they were forced to choke down their pride and discuss the options to rent rooms, training room space, and training times.

All of which would be provided at fair market values, determined by the most recent appraisal for the compound and Tony’s current consultant rate.

Suffice to say, nobody was happy with this arrangement, but every time someone tried to complain, Tony informed them that they were more than welcome to find another facility or build it themselves, and no, he would not consult or have anything to do with it. If they refused his extremely generous offer, they were on their own. When they learned they’d also have to pay for any food consumed outside their meal plans, as well as for Wi-Fi and cable, the Accords Council finally decided that a serious effort at finding another suitable location would be undertaken.

The agents who found the only other place in the US had to take three days off work when they returned, they were so traumatized. When the Accords Council saw the facility, terms, conditions, and prices for the location in the Utah desert, they had to take an immediate recess. Every single complaint people were making regarding Tony’s ‘unreasonableness’ about the Compound mysteriously stopped and the contracts were quickly signed, notarized, and filed.

Toward the end of this excruciating process, in the middle of the sniveling about ‘why barracks instead of individual rooms?’, Tony casually mentioned that he was officially registering his Familiar Bond with Fiero. It was a required formality, letting the Panel know that he had chosen the option to utilize the abilities and benefits of the bond within the scope of Accords missions, but there was so much else going on that no one paid attention. A clerk noted his file and that was that.

It was a good thing no one but Happy saw the vindictive smirk curling his boss’ lips as they left the building, and it was equally good that nobody heard Happy cackling in unholy glee after Tony’s succinct explanation.

So when the Rogues finally saw Tony for the first time in nearly three years, they all got a massive shock.

Romanova was the first true casualty. Say what you will about her moral center (ha!), ethics (HA!), ego (HA!!), and trustworthiness (HAHAHA!!!), she was a physically beautiful woman. She was therefore used to getting the attention of any and all males in her vicinity, especially when she wore her SHIELD-issued catsuit, which left exactly nothing to the imagination. Because she was a woman ‘kicking ass in a man’s world’, she also tended to get a lot of admiration from women for ‘breaking the glass ceiling’. Romanova didn’t like notoriety for its own sake, but she did enjoy the attention and the power that came with it, and she eventually came to expect it.

And despite her sneering putdowns of Tony and her snide remarks about his childish need to be in the limelight on those occasions he chose to publically bask in the admiration of the people around him — usually kids, though she ignored that to focus on the adults accompanying them, thus making her putdown of his ego acceptable — it was Romanova who couldn’t handle not being the primary focus of attention when she wanted it.

She truly couldn’t grasp that there were people who couldn’t care less about her pretty face or the boobs shoved up to her chin or the highly impractical stiletto heels she wore to show off both her legs and her balance. There were also people who found other women to admire, which she couldn’t quite understand. And her bloated ego, combined with her strong sociopathic tendencies, meant that she had no clue how to handle it when she was ignored or even just deemed less important than someone else.

Fiero was unaware of this when he accompanied Tony to the first strategy meeting regarding a training mission. The Accords Council was still clinging to the hope that Tony would wake up one morning and cave to their demands to rejoin and fund the Avengers instead of working as a solo act while he quietly recruited and helped build other teams. In their efforts to convince him, they had decided that a series of fake missions, using different people in different combinations, would smooth over any . . . lingering issues . . . and convince Tony of the power of friendship or teamwork or whatever bullshit excuse they thought would work.

Rhodes and Pepper were both furious about it. Peter was worried, Happy was unhappy, and Tony was just pissed. He was also resigned. Bureaucracy was the same the world over and obviously, if the Council admitted they were wrong, they’d all drop dead right that instant. That wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, mind, but Tony was a realist and knew they were all going to be stuck in this dumbass cycle for a while.

The exercise that turned Romanova into Fiero’s direct enemy involved her, Tony, and Lang. Their Accords liaisons were also present, as were three clerks sent from the Accords Council to observe and take notes. The non-hero group was an even mix of male and female, and Romanova smirked when Tony, the last one to arrive, finally sauntered in the room, his leopard at his side. She’d been holding court for about fifteen minutes, enjoying the admiration of the women and feeling both superior and contemptuous toward the men, who were all paying more attention to her cleavage than to her.

In short, she had positioned herself to take charge of the meeting and planning instead of Tony, even though he was the designated Team Lead, and her scheme was working beautifully.

Until he walked in and stopped dead, blinking in surprise when everyone’s eyes slammed into h—oh.

Not him.

The entire room was completely focused on his bondmate. The women were actually cooing at him, exclaiming about how beautiful and magnificent he was and could they pet him? Not sensing any danger — and being a cat — Fiero stropped Tony’s thigh and paced forward, allowing himself to be stroked and scratched and fawned over. The men collectively gave Tony looks of pure envy, mingled with awe, and inched their way to the pile of women and cat, offering their own praise and admiration, while Tony stood in the door for a few minutes and simply watched in utter bemusement, mingled with pride, as he was completely ignored in favor of his Familiar.

He gave a soft chuff of amusement when he felt Fiero’s smug satisfaction sweep across their bond and finally stepped forward, sinking into the chair next to his leopard and patiently answering the usual questions regarding the Familiar Bond. After a minute or two, though, he cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention and started the meeting. He didn’t realize until the end, when he asked for questions and got nothing from Lang or Romanova, that the famed Black Widow was fuming, and if looks could kill, her glare would have put him 36 feet under. She was visibly galled at being upstaged by Tony, not to mention his damned cat, but she didn’t know how to salvage the situation without sounding petty and spiteful.

Not that she had a problem with either of those things, of course, but she was shrewd enough to know that doing so now would only hurt her, not Tony.

She had no idea that Fiero, who was highly intelligent before adding Tony’s genius to it, had noticed her reactions and understood their meaning. It also didn’t occur to her that he was a predator who didn’t have to kill in order to destroy his prey. Romanov had hurt and betrayed Tony, and felt no remorse about either of those things. Fiero, who was so much more than just a leopard, saw that, recognized it, and used it to plan his vengeance.

For Tony’s part, since there were no questions or problems, he offered one last round of petting and admiring before he had to leave. His casual reminder to Romanova and Lang about being ready in three hours, given without so much as turning his head, infuriated her and she sucked in a sharp breath, mentally plotting how she was going to get him back for humiliating her, when her Accords liaison turned to grab his stuff, saw her, and said, “Oh, I didn’t know you were still here. We’ll see you in a few hours!”

And then he just . . . left. No appreciative glance at her face, no admiring perusal of her body. He, a man, had forgotten she was there!

Romanova. Was. Furious.

And then it happened again.

And again.

And again.

Every time she was in the same place as Tony Stark and Fiero, she ceased to exist. She would be mid-word and the second that damned cat strolled through the door, she was muted and invisible. She could have walked in naked and no one would have noticed (in actual fact, no one did notice; she was so frustrated she could have chewed up a throwing knife and spit out thumbtacks, so she decided to test her theory in a meeting that was male-only and strolled in 10 minutes late, wearing nothing but high heels and a translucent red negligee. A burlap sack would have been cheaper and a hell of a lot more comfortable, and elicited the exact same reaction).

The worst part about the whole thing? It wasn’t anything Stark was doing; people were simply fascinated by being in such close proximity to a tame wild animal. Fiero being a rare black leopard just made him that much more exotic and enticing, a point she grudgingly conceded even as she seethed with resentment and wounded pride and the inability to so much as shove the overgrown house cat out of her way, never mind eliminating him — and thus, the problem — entirely.

Still, she didn’t believe the rumors that Familiar Bonds never formed between unequal partners, so she also failed to believe that Fiero was highly intelligent and capable of independent thought and action that were completely separate from Tony. She also honestly thought that people’s insulting tunnel vision when it came to the leopard was simply a matter of human nature, the tendency to ignore another human in favor of the exotic and the mysterious.

Until the day she was literally grinding her teeth as she watched six full-grown adults rolling around the floor with a giant black cat, utterly ignoring not just her, but also any sense of decency.

And Fiero, his whole body vibrating with the force of his purrs, raised his head, met her eyes . . . and licked his lips before deliberately turning his back to her and strolling back to Tony, pausing here and there to strop a person he liked and drawing the whole group with him.

Natasha Romanova sat there, stunned, as she realized that Tony Stark’s fucking cat was playing her for a fool.

And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

~~~

Shortly after Romanova’s torment began, Fiero had his first run-in with Sam Wilson. It didn’t take long to realize that Tony was ambivalent about the man, who was nothing more than a Window Dressing with Wings, according to Harley (Rhodes almost choked to death on his coffee when he heard that and gleefully shared it with his peers; it took less than two days for Wilson’s call sign to change to Window Dressing, to his extreme displeasure). He was the type of person who glommed on to a dominant personality and became an extension of that person, claiming their thoughts and decisions for himself. Had he met Tony first, that’s where his loyalty would have gone. Had Steve Rogers been a better person, so would Wilson. Or rather, Wilson would have behaved better; he was at heart nothing more than a sycophant and perfectly happy with that.

Since Tony didn’t have any real animosity toward Wilson, Fiero didn’t either. But he didn’t like the man and the third time he sneered at Tony during their strategy meeting, the leopard finally had enough. He oozed his way over to Wilson, basking in the petting and admiration he inevitably got when he passed within two feet of a person, and stopped a few steps away from the man’s chair before curling up into a compact ball of fur. Not surprisingly, Wilson, who was looking away, didn’t see him and promptly tripped when he stood up, which had been the reason Fiero had moved to begin with.

Because the other thing he’d come to realize about Sam Wilson was that, like the rest of the Rogues, he had a bad habit of not recognizing his own mistakes and he sure as hell didn’t take responsibility for them. He also didn’t handle being humi—no, not that. He hated appearing undignified more than just about anything on earth. So being annoyed when he tripped over a mid-sized black leopard he didn’t know was there? That was perfectly understandable.

Threatening Fiero for being a damned nuisance, just like Stark, followed with snapping at Tony about keeping his damned social anxiety crutch on a leash?

Not so much.

The resultant outrage from everyone in the room (except Romanova, who had been totally forgotten) shocked him into silence. He was completely taken aback by their offense on Fiero’s behalf, offense which quickly spread to encompass Tony as well. His Accords liaison had done a massive amount of research into Familiar Bonds when he realized he’d be in close proximity to one and gave Wilson a blistering lecture about how unwarranted his attitude and behavior were, along with a warning that it would not be tolerated again — and that was completely separate from any actions Tony chose to take in response.

Stunned, Wilson only nodded and scurried from the room, cheeks blazing with humiliation and anger, and after his self-righteous indignation was soothed and placated by Rogers, he began to plot. He had no choice but to tolerate the cat while Stark was on a mission, but he didn’t have to cater to it.

Everyone, including Tony, was blissfully unaware that this was exactly the reaction Fiero had been hoping to induce.

So the next time Wilson was part of a mission, Fiero made a point of getting close enough to him to whack his arm or leg with his ridiculously long tail, which was heavy enough to leave bruises. He would also randomly curl up in a tight ball near the man’s chair, thus guaranteeing that Wilson — who wasn’t that smart or someone who learned from his mistakes — would trip over him when he got up. But he did the latter so infrequently, and in no pattern at all, that no one suspected that Fiero was deliberately riling the man’s temper.

And when he finally lost it and blew the second chance he’d been unjustly given, it actually had nothing to do with Fiero or Tony.

Since the UN flatly refused to pay to rent the running tracks at the Compound, the Rogues were forced to run elsewhere. Wilson had just finished one in Central Park and was walking back to his Uber. His shirt was covering his face as he wiped off the sweat and, momentarily blind, he tripped over a puppy who’d gotten off his leash, staggered like a drunk clown at a redneck rodeo, and went headfirst into one of the park’s nasty, filthy water fountains.

He came unwound. The multiple recordings of him completely losing his shit and screaming at the dog for deliberately tripping him went viral while they were being filmed and posted. The dog’s owner, a Navy SEAL on leave, took issue with the entire tantrum and the world got a bonus Easter Egg of seeing Sam Wilson pancaked back into the fountain with one effortless strike, while the terrified puppy was cuddled by several bystanders and given more treats than a grown elephant could safely eat. When Wilson tried to push himself out of the water, the man’s Marine sister dipped her foot in the water, scruffed it in a pile of dirt, and planted her muddy boot right in the middle of his ass to shove him back down before she and her brother took their puppy, thanked the crowd for their help, and regally left the park.

It took the cops almost an hour to get Wilson out, because they couldn’t quit laughing long enough to get a decent grip on him, and the crowd was no help at all. They did manage to turn him over so he didn’t drown, but that was it, so he marinated in the dirty, stagnant water until it would take being steam-blasted by an industrial water hose to get him clean. Then, because his life didn’t suck enough, when he appeared at the Accords hearing two days later, multiple recordings of his similar behavior and attitude toward Fiero sealed his fate.

As the Council President said, voice dripping with disappointment, “If we cannot trust you to behave in the presence of an animal who not only isn’t trying to hurt you, but isn’t engaging with you at all, we do not dare risk allowing you to deal with a terrified, injured child.”

Sam Wilson left his hearing in handcuffs. He was broken, though he didn’t understand why . . . until he saw Tony, who hadn’t attended the hearing, standing in the hallway, talking to someone while Fiero stood guard. Hatred sizzled through him at the sight of the leopard, but he managed to keep himself from doing anything stupid.

But something got Fiero’s attention and he turned his head, meeting Wilson’s furious eyes with his own vivid green gaze.

Then he walked toward Wilson, holding his eyes the entire time, and stropped the woman escorting him to a holding cell. When she squealed softly in delight and eagerly stroked his head for a few minutes, Wilson scowled, annoyed but also extremely disquieted, because the cat still hadn’t looked away or blinked. But then Tony looked up and called him, and Fiero pivoted instantly — and whacked Wilson’s handcuffed wrist so hard he swore it was broken, though his hiss of pain was masked by the sound of a massive feline sneeze. Then Fiero looked up, straight into Wilson’s eyes, and whacked him again, this time in the knee. It was clearly deliberate and he floundered, stunned as he realized that he’d been set up by a leopard. Said leopard saw the realization in his eyes, sneezed in Wilson’s face, and turned away, strolling back to Tony’s side without a hint of fear for his prey’s reaction.

Being so obviously, so deliberately, insulted by a fucking cat was the last straw and Wilson snapped. He lunged for Fiero, wanting nothing so much as to hit him hard enough to bruise and pound the smugness out of his eyes. His rage was such that he never felt himself being tackled into the wall and knocked unconscious, so his next memory was waking up in a standard prison cell, where he would spend the next decade. Every time he saw Tony and Fiero on the news, rescuing people or fundraising or just walking down the street, he would grind his teeth further down, but when he watched Fiero use his tail to rescue a toddler trapped under a bicycle, he was finally forced to admit the truth: he’d been beaten and deliberately destroyed by the most dangerous enemy he didn’t know he’d made — and it was all for the love of a man Wilson had disrespected and hurt and betrayed for no reason.

And he had no one to blame but himself.

~~~

Clint Barton was a non-entity.

He had accepted a plea deal that put him on house-arrest for two years — including an on-site handler, an ankle monitor designed and built by Tony Stark, and an implanted microchip he knew nothing about (insisted on and implemented by the Accords Council and approved by the UN), should the ankle monitor have a meeting with Natasha Romanova and miraculously stop working — and living a completely civilian life: no missions, no training of agents, no reconnaissance, no contacts, no information passing, no nothing. He would be nothing but a husband, a father, and a civilian, ideally a farmer since he already owned one.

But he would be completely self-sufficient. If he was unable to meet that requirement, which included holding a steady job if farming didn’t work out (and would be difficult, given his well-known crimes and the small size of the neighboring towns), or got into any legal trouble of any kind, including a parking ticket or meter violation, the pardon would be rescinded and he would be in a holding cell with charges pending by the end of the day.

Barton scoffed at that, not remotely concerned about his reunion with his family, and eagerly boarded the plane, so desperate to be home that he almost shoved the pilot aside so he could fly it himself. His handler and the cabin crew heaved exasperated sighs but said nothing and the trip was made in silence, though the crew and the unfortunate rent-a-cop (his new code name and when he found out who had coined it, he was going to haul them in front of the entire UN and give them a wedgie) had a fairly intense conversation via Messenger, punctuated by the odd game of Candy Crush; Barton said and did nothing but stare out the window, which they all found a little creepy but it kept him from bothering them, so whatever. Then came the long car ride from the airport to the Barton property, in which neither of them spoke a word, but things somehow still weren’t awkward.

Then they arrived at the farm.

It was was abandoned. Completely. If you listened hard enough, you could hear banjos playing and three tumbleweeds blew past while Barton was staring in uncomprehending disbelief. The barn looked as though it had been ransacked and it was showing serious signs of neglect and decay, as was the house, which told Barton this wasn’t a new circumstance. Nobody had lived here for a least a year and fear clogged his throat. Had Ross gotten to them? Had Stark?

Slowly, reluctantly, he climbed the steps to the front porch, pausing a few times when something creaked ominously beneath his feet, but he managed to get to the front door unscathed. Taped just above the doorknob was a thick, weather-protected envelope, and Barton stared at it quizzically for a while before pulling it loose and stuffing it in his pocket, more concerned with reuniting with his family. It still took him a couple of minutes to work up the courage to open the door and step inside, but when he did, his legs went out from under him and he hit the ground, staring in abject horror.

The only things left in the living room were his, bought before he and Laura got married. And they hadn’t even been left in place; if moving them had been necessary to get to something else, his stuff was left to lay where it had been dropped.

And his things had been dropped. There had been very little care taken with anything that belonged solely to Barton, with the exceptions of the set of Barnum shot glasses he’d found in a pawn shop and his first bow and quiver, something he’d kept for highly unusual reasons of sentiment. Nothing had been deliberately broken, his experienced eye could see that, but no attention had been given either. If it was his and it broke, oh, well.

That was bad enough, but the obvious lack of Laura and their children was terrifying and Barton swallowed as he got to his feet and unsteadily walked through the abandoned room. He kept his vision trained straight ahead, so he didn’t see the look of mingled satisfaction and compassion on his handler’s face; the man hadn’t known about this, but he couldn’t say it surprised him and he could find only a very small amount of pity for Barton. Thankfully for both of them, Barton remained unaware of this, because he might well have snapped and done something stupid.

Then they got to the kitchen and the former Avenger couldn’t contain his anguished cry, because it too had stripped bare. Literally. The only thing left was the wallpaper and the big appliances, because Laura had done the remodel herself and those wooden wall panels and cabinets were her pride and joy. And in a final act of pure spite, she had put Barton’s rickety-legged card table in the middle of the empty room and left two legal-sized manila envelopes and a flash drive on the surface. No note, no letter, no message of any kind. It was ominous and Barton swallowed hard. For what felt like hours, he just stared at the items awaiting his attention; he feared from the depths of his soul what was contained within, but he also knew he’d never be able to live without knowing. So, his legs deceptively steady, he walked forward and picked up the closest packet.

Inside was a decree stripping him of his parental rights to Cooper, Lila, and Nathanial Bishop, effective more than two years ago.

Once again, his knees went out and he hit the ground, dropping the packet that had just robbed him of a third of his life. According to this, his children were no longer his, they never would be again, he had no clue where they were, and if he tried to search or asked any of his contacts to look on his behalf, he would be arrested.

How like Laura. She was thorough on a bad day, but when she was pissed off or feeling vindictive? He’d find Jimmy Hoffa’s body before he found her and their kids.

Because it was obvious the other envelope held a divorce decree. And it did, dated the same day. But after fighting through his grief at seeing that Laura had willingly relinquished his name, both for her and their kids, something caught his attention as he was fumbling to stuff the papers back, something about surrendering all rights to the farm, and he paused, pulling the wad back out and focusing on the section where property division was spelled out. Laura had willingly forfeited all rights to the farm and its revenues, both for herself and for her children, and then removed her name from the deed, which was the last paper in the packet. She’d never been on the mortgage, but now, it was as though Barton had never had a family at all. His children no longer carried his name, his wife had completely removed herself from his life and from anything they had shared . . . it was like the last decade of his life had never happened. He wasn’t even sure he had any pictures in his wallet.

The thought of watching whatever torture was saved on the thumb drive made Barton queasy, though it was tempered with relief that he actually couldn’t view it, since electronics other than an Accords-provided and monitored flip phone were forbidden for nine months.

Of course, because the universe hated him, his handler softly cleared his throat and produced his own laptop, setting it carefully on the table and offering Barton, who was still on the floor, what appeared to be a sympathetic look (this one was genuine; he couldn’t imagine losing his family, especially like that, and though it was a well-deserved and fitting punishment, as a father, he still felt a little empathy). He grunted in absent acknowledgement and then just stared blankly at an equally blank wall for more than twenty minutes before suddenly blinking himself back to life. With steady hands and a pounding heart, Barton inserted the drive, opened the first file . . .

. . . and cried out in wordless denial when he was presented with a three-minute video of Tony Stark laughing with Laura and answering to Uncle Tony, giving Lila a handcrafted bow perfectly sized for her, handing Cooper a brand-new quiver, and producing a Spiderman onesie for Nathaniel.

It abruptly ended and autoplay kicked in, so Barton had no chance to recover from the maelstrom of emotions that video had stirred up. So of course, the next clip was also of Tony Stark and Barton’s family . . . wait, what? Was that — was Barton losing his mind or did Stark have a giant black panther with him?

Squinting, he leaned closer to the screen, only to rear back in shock when a huge black nose suddenly shoved the camera to the side before the fucking wild animal bounced back to Clint’s children and . . . and . . . curled up on the floor and let them pet him and cuddle him and, in Lila’s case, hand-feed him.

What?!

Yeah, he’d heard the rumors that Stark had been seen with a leopard, but they were in Wakanda, so outside news was spotty on a bad day, incomplete on a good one, and unreliable either way. So he — they — had all dismissed the rumors as the media’s need to drum up headlines and apparently Stark had been laying low and not giving them his usual scandals. It was typical media idiocy, so none of them had given it a second thought.

And yet, here was video evidence that the media had been right. Incongruously, that was the most shocking part of it, something that would have sent Laura into gales of laughter had she been there.

But she’d never be there again. Barton’s kids would never be there again.

He watched all the way to the end of that horrific video montage, unable to look away and desperately hoping that he’d at least get a message from Laura, something to prove that he hadn’t imagined the last decade of his life. But there was nothing. She didn’t even deign to give him a final ‘fuck you’.

She simply showed him through those awful video clips that would not stop what family looked like. Barton watched Stark and his fucking special pet — because heaven forbid the bastard get a dog — clearly becoming part of Laura’s family, and hated the world. But it wasn’t until Potts and Rhodes and some teenager started joining them that anger finally kicked in. The laptop sat innocently on the table, taunting Clint with the knowledge that Tony Fucking Stark not only had his own family, but he was now closer to Barton’s family than he was and ever would be again, and probably knew where they were.

But even if the former agent could get to Stark, it would be a suicide mission. The Accords Council had gone to great lengths to drive that point home: every single member of the Rogue Avengers were forbidden from entering any and all property owned, rented, maintained, or affiliated with Stark Industries, Tony Stark, or Pepper Potts. Furthermore, the restraining order decreed that if any of them got closer than 1000 feet to Stark, Potts, Peter Parker, or James Rhodes, they would be arrested. But if any of them felt their life or safety was being threatened by Stark’s former teammates, they had been granted the right to use lethal force to protect themselves.

So as badly as Barton wanted to rip Stark’s lungs out — after he gave up Laura’s location — he couldn’t muster the energy to get off the floor.

There was no reason; his entire life was gone. All he had left was an abandoned farm and his memories, and after three years on the run, those were starting to fade. With a defeated sigh, he finally got up, only for the envelope he’d jammed in his pocket earlier come loose. Quick as a snake, he snatched it mid-air air and tore it open, numb but still angry and feeling a spurt of glee when the carefully-sealed paper tore in a violent line, destroying it.

Mr. Clint Francis Barton:

This is your official notice that the property at 42408 Wagon Trail Road has been repossessed by the county of Marigold due to failure to pay property taxes for the years of 2016, 2017, and 2018, and will be sold in a lien-auction on September 30, 2019 unless the full amount of $32,462.16 is paid by August 31. Please contact our office at 555-555-1234 if you have any questions.

Pauline Trent
Marigold County Tax Assessor

He had to read the note three times before it could even begin to make sense, but when it finally did, he broke down. Seeing his abandoned home hadn’t done it; being informed by way of official decrees that his family was gone hadn’t done it; watching his family happily interacting with Tony Stark and his pet leopard and not missing him once hadn’t done it.

But this two-sentence note had broken Clint Barton. It was already September, so even if he’d had the money, it was too late. And that wasn’t taking the mortgage into account, because that hadn’t been paid, either.

It was over. His life was over. He was homeless, friendless, penniless, and alone. Completely alone. There was nowhere to run, no favors to call in, no deal he could make. He’d been so sure his family would be waiting for him that he hadn’t even tried to negotiate, and they’d warned him at the time that his house arrest and civilian status was a mandatory two-year sentence. The end of the world wouldn’t override them, so the ending of Barton’s world certainly wouldn’t do it.

He never heard his handler leave the room, both giving him space to grieve and taking the chance to call the Council so he could update them on the situation. Barton had no funds available; everything had been frozen when he’d been declared an international terrorist and a wanted fugitive, and Laura had taken everything that she was legally entitled to. He wouldn’t be able to get a civilian job, since his criminal record was both well-known and ugly, and he was forbidden to do any government work. That meant his only option for any kind of housing or food was prison, which was where he was headed because he could no longer meet the requirements of his pardon.

He never did accept that his situation was solely of his own making, though he did stop railing about Tony Fucking Stark after the eighth time it landed him in the prison infirmary. The Warden got sick of his bullshit and threw him into solitary for three days, which actually managed to wake up a few of Barton’s brain cells. He quit verbally blaming Stark for his situation, but that was it. The Accords Council, who was getting written and verbal reports as well as prison recordings, concluded at the end of his original two-year house arrest that he was still utterly lacking in remorse or regret about his actions, and he also failed to realize that he had broken multiple laws in several countries. The decision was therefore made that proceedings would begin for an official criminal trial, under the aegis of the Accords so all of the international charges could be handled simultaneously.

Tony Stark, who actually knew nothing about any of this prior to being summoned as a witness for the prosecution, was therefore taken aback when Barton saw him, yelled something incoherent, and lunged for him, murder in his eyes. Fiero met him before he made it three steps and broke his forearm with one vicious bite before putting himself directly in front of Tony and snarling so furiously, the entire room took four steps back.

It was an ignominious end for Clint Barton, because nothing changed for him except the location of his prison. He went from a small, shitty cell in a county prison to a smaller, equally shitty cell in a German one, and for the rest of his life, he never saw, spoke to, or communicated with anyone from the outside world.

Laura and her children never knew any of this, by deliberate choice, but Barton himself gave them the vengeance they deserved.

~~~

Scott Lang was slightly less of a non-entity.

He had no reason to take a deal for house arrest, as Maggie had told him to his face (well, okay, over a video call, but still) that the world would literally end before he ever saw Cassie again, or she turned 18 and could make her decision about whether she wanted to visit him. That left him no options but prison or accepting the pardon and everything that came with it.

Added to that was the fact that his view of and feelings about Tony Stark were based solely on Hank Pym's opinion. Left to his own devices, he presented no danger to Fiero's bondmate. But the point still needed to be made, just in case the man was stupider than he appeared.

So the first time he had a chance to interact directly with Lang, Fiero simply sat down in front of him, making a point of blocking Tony from the other man's sight, put a massive paw on his knee, looked straight in his eyes, and yowled a clear, unambiguous warning, complete with flexing his claws hard enough to puncture Lang's jeans but not actually scratching the skin.

Scott Lang peed himself, passed out from fear, and never said a word to Tony Stark that wasn't 'Yes', 'no problem', or 'can you please clarify'.

Problem solved.

~~~

Wanda Maximoff was considerably more difficult, but Fiero was a leopard on a mission.

Had his bondmate never interacted with her again for the rest of their lives, Fiero would have left it alone, but there were better odds of a Vegas marriage lasting than Tony having that much luck.

The circumstances that finally forced Tony and Maximoff to be in the same room involved a collapsed building, 32 trapped civilians, and the massive differences in experience, ability, and arrogance. At first, the only Avengers present were Maximoff, Romanova, and Wilson, but it took less than an hour for everyone but those three to realize that they weren’t going to be able to successfully evacuate the building, and the head of the task force called to request Tony Stark, with the Iron Man suit if possible, since Rhodes was on another mission on a different continent and they were the only two who could both fly and were engineers. The fact that they were also both rocket scientists didn’t hurt.

The resultant tantrum from Maximoff was both pitiful and impressive, but nobody had time to deal with it, so she was simply ignored, which left her fuming in impotent rage while Tony calculated the physics for safely moving the rubble and the best potential options for rescuing the trapped workers. This was one of the few missions Fiero had accompanied him to, as his training in search and rescue made him essential as well. All three of the Rogues were seething as Tony blatantly ignored them (Romanova was in the middle of being humbled and Fiero had only just started on Wilson) while he was drawing up the extraction plans, but it was Maximoff who held the leopard’s attention.

Her dark, acrid hatred was visible in the close quarters of the command tent and when she objected to Tony’s decision to sideline her for the time being, red sparks flared from her hands and eyes. The urgency of the situation meant that Tony didn’t bother with attempting to be diplomatic, and his response to her bitching was, “Look, you might be able to pick up a 2-ton slab with your magic, but that doesn’t do a damn bit of good if you don’t know where to put it, or if moving it is safe to begin with. That building is so unstable, it’ll come down if you cough on it, and randomly moving shit around is going to get everyone trapped in there killed. That means I have to be in the air to survey and make the calculations and once I know what’s safe to move and where, I’ll tell you. Aht!” he snapped when she drew a harsh breath, waving his finger in front of her nose and visibly suppressing his flinch when her magic shocked him a little.

Fiero, however, tensed. He could taste the violence simmering just below the surface, and her hatred was a tangible thing, and he knew that her control was non-existent. So when Tony turned away from her to focus on the task force leader, the leopard was the only one not caught by surprise when she shrieked in wordless fury and threw a massive wave of red magic at Tony’s unprotected back. Her eyes were glowing with hatred and an insane desire to inflict agony on her target and she was still screaming wordlessly . . . only to splutter to silence mid-noise when Fiero activated his suit and leaped between his bondmate and the witch. The armor, which had been reinforced against most magical and mental attacks by Stephen Strange and Charles Xavier, ricocheted the magic directly back to Maximoff, who didn’t have time to react before she was slammed flat on her back from the force of her own spell, gasping for breath and unable to move.

Before anyone else could react, Fiero was standing over her, one paw keeping her torso pinned the floor.

And her throat was being held delicately between his razor-sharp teeth.

Everyone froze and the tension ratcheted to unbearable levels. For a solid minute, nobody breathed but Fiero and the sound of his soft, threatening growls had the same effect as bomb detonating in the tent.

The field commander recovered first, but he made no move to intervene. On a personal level, he wouldn’t mind in the slightest if Fiero ripped the witch’s throat out, but professionally, he had no right to interfere with a Familiar Bond.

And he sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to do so.

It took Tony a few minutes longer to recover from his stunned disbelief, but once he did, he stepped forward and curved his hand across the back of the leopard’s neck, squeezing gently as he began to murmur nonsense in an effort to calm his bondmate down enough that he didn’t kill Maximoff . . . though he wouldn’t object in the slightest if she got a little maimed. But they didn’t have time for this right now; those people needed to be rescued ASAP and that meant Tony and Fiero had to get out there.

Being the unusually empathetic animal he was, Fiero sensed Tony’s desire for a peaceful resolution, at least for the moment, and he grudgingly released the scrawny throat from his grip, growling again in warning as he took a step back.

Maximoff’s black, bitter hatred surged again, swamping Fiero, and he hissed his fury. But his bondmate had already forbidden her death, so he did the only thing available to him in the moment.

You see, Fiero had observed that Wanda Maximoff was extremely vain and liked looking good. She refused to even go into the cafeteria without styling her hair and putting on mascara and foundation (badly, according to his bondmate’s mate, whose judgement he trusted implicitly).

So, since he couldn’t kill her, he chose to humiliate her. He pivoted so he was facing Tony and peed directly on her face. Her outraged scream cut off with a splutter, which sent everyone in the tent but Romanova and Wilson into paroxysms of laughter, and Fiero chuffed, strongly pleased with himself and satisfied that he’d neutered the witch for the time being. Once he was done, he shook his butt several times to rid himself of any lingering moisture and then strode to Tony, head tilted in expectation of a head scratch and praises, both of which he received in spades.

And not just from Tony.

But as he walked away, he accidentally scratched her inner left wrist. It was so minor, it wasn’t noticeable even when people went looking for it, but it ended up giving Fiero and Tony the best vengeance they could ever have hoped for.

Apparently, something about the venom on his claws reacted . . . badly . . . with the magic running through Maximoff’s veins. And his claw had nicked a blood vessel; it was an insignificant one, and the scratch was miniscule, but a few drops of his venom still got into her bloodstream.

And it began to kill off her powers. By the end of the week, she was nothing but a baseline human and nobody could figure out why or how. Even Fiero didn’t understand at first, and Tony didn’t have a clue either, since neither of them realized that Fiero had scratched her. It took the leopard about fifteen minutes in her presence to pick up on the fact that his scent was lingering in her pores, and while it was a weak scent, and fading fast, it was still there. And the strongest trace came from her left wrist.

The loss of her powers had revealed her true mental and emotional states, and once everyone had recovered from their horror, she had been gagged and bound, first with handcuffs and then a straightjacket after the fifth time she hurt herself trying to break free of her bonds and screaming incoherently into her gag. After four doctors failed to determine the potential cause of the issue, Tony had hesitantly asked his bondmate to take a look, swearing that he would be there the entire time and he would vaporize her on the spot if she tried anything.

When the leopard realized what had happened, he chuffed in pure glee and pounced on Tony, licking his face all over and yipping like an excited puppy. He couldn’t explain in detail, but he was able to send emotional impressions that were strong and detailed enough for Tony to get the gist, which set him off into incredibly relieved, slightly hysterical laughter of his own, and the two of them collapsed in a heap on the floor of Maximoff’s cell, celebrating the fact that the witch had been neutered by complete accident and without causing death, destruction, or mayhem first.

When he finally calmed down, Tony carefully got to his feet, cursing his gimp knee and ignoring his leopard’s amusement. He took the three steps separating him from the prison cot and looked the woman straight in her crazed, hostile, terrified eyes. His own power rose in response, strengthened by Fiero, and Maximoff’s muffled screams quickly tapered off as she saw for the first time just how much of himself Tony had hidden, how powerful he really was, and how merciless he could be when he or his were threatened. She had threatened him — openly, repeatedly, and proudly.

So he destroyed her.

“Welcome to reality, Wanda,” he breathed, his voice throbbing with malicious satisfaction. “What’s happened here, you losing your powers? That was a complete accident. It wasn’t supposed to happen; hell, we didn’t know it could happen. But when Fiero scratched you that day, he killed off the very thing that made you special. And it can’t be reversed; your body literally can’t do it again.”

Her eyes blew wide with anguished denial and she screamed into her gag, but Tony was unmoved. He didn’t quite enjoy seeing her distress, but he didn’t have the slightest desire to soothe it, either.

And then her hands, still trapped in a straightjacket because she kept clawing at her chest in a desperate attempt to find some remnant of her powers, spasmed, while her eyes glowed red for just a split second in her rage-fueled need to hurt him.

A bitter scoff was Tony’s only response, and he never moved.

But that attempt to hurt him shredded his last morsel of compassion and his eyes went ice cold as frost formed on all the metal in the room. Beside him, Fiero went into Guard Mode and was growling low in his throat. His eyes fixed unwaveringly on the witch-no-longer and the promise of death was blazing in them.

Tony sniffed and scratched his bondmate’s ears, his touch comforting and calming, even as he watched Maximoff finally grasp the fact that she was completely at his mercy. He relished her terror at the realization that he could do literally anything he wanted to her and no one would offer a single word of objection. Tears spilled from her eyes, but Tony and Fiero were both unmoved, because they both knew her sorrow was for herself, not for the actions that had resulted in the situation.

Then Tony, surrendering to the perverse sense of the dramatic that was so strong in him, leaned down and whispered, “You know, I was going to suggest execution. It would be justice for your victims but still merciful to you, but even now, in the ashes of your own, self-made destruction, you still don’t understand that everything that’s happened is a direct result of your actions. So I’m going to let you live. Powerless. Helpless. Forgotten. At the mercy of the victims who lived and the families of those who didn’t. You’re young, and I’ll make sure you’re well-fed and any injuries are treated — and suicide to escape won’t be an option, so don’t get your hopes up. Your life will be long and excrutiating.”

She moaned in despair into her gag, tears flowing freely now, and he smirked as he straightened and gave Fiero one final ear scratch before heading to the door.

Just before he stepped over the threshold, he turned and gave her one final, icy parting shot.

“You might even end up being a test subject for some grieving daughter or sister, because they’re training their new powers so they can take revenge on you because you killed their parents.”

Muffled screams filled the tiny cell as Tony and Fiero walked away, already forgetting Maximoff in favor of what to get for lunch.

Two hundred and seven days later, Tony’s prediction came true.

He didn’t react at all when he found out, but he and Fiero disappeared for several hours and they were somber after their return, but also grimly satisfied and somehow . . . unburdened.

Justice had finally been served.

~~~

Steve Rogers ended up being much easier than Fiero had expected, but no less satisfying, and he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

Three days after Wanda Maximoff lost her abilities and Tony arranged to have her sentenced for life and full access given to her victims and their families, Rogers ignored everything that the literal entire world had told him about staying the hell away from Tony Stark and stormed into the main lobby of Stark Tower. In a truly astounding coincidence, Tony was there, having come to fetch Peter since the kid, once again, had left both his badge and his ID upstairs. They were playfully bickering, with the amused receptionist and exasperated security guards watching, when The World’s Most Entitled Asshole made The World’s Least Impressive Entrance.

It was hilarious, especially given the look on his face, because he had clearly meant to slam open the doors, possibly shattering glass in the process to display his strength and ensure all eyes were on him in awe and respect.

Instead, he was forced to stop and wait for the automatic doors to open enough for him to fit through, which meant that everyone watched with contempt and disdain as he was stymied by something a child could navigate and gave them plenty of time to react accordingly. By the time he finished squeezing through the hole, everyone but four security guards, Tony, Fiero, and Peter (who won the argument simply because Tony couldn’t physically pick him up and haul him to safety, much to his mingled fear, annoyance, and pride) was safely tucked behind the impenetrable retractable wall Tony had installed shortly after the pardons were announced.

Reclaiming his lost dignity was impossible, but Rogers managed to ignore the quiet snickers emanating from Security (and one teenage boy whose presence puzzled him) as he stomped up to Tony. His face was bright red with indignation, and also sported the sanctimonious ‘I Am Very Disappointed in You’ look that pissed everyone off, even his teammates. His gaze was fixed unwaveringly on his target as he raised his hands so he could grab the man and force him to obey Steve’s demands.

He never saw Fiero leap forward, but he felt the impact of 200lbs of solid muscle slam into his chest hard enough to crack his sternum and drive him into the floor so brutally, several tiles shattered.

He also felt the sharp, excruciating pain of the teeth that sank into his throat, followed by a hot gush of blood that terrified him.

Then he heard Tony screaming something and suddenly, the weight pinning him to the floor was gone and he was gasping for breath, only to gurgle instead because each pass of air was agony on his torn throat. He was also unable to sit up because, in addition to the unimaginable pain the bite was causing him, a strange lethargy was stealing through his body, leaving a very uncomfortable burning sensation behind it. His ears were roaring and tears were dripping down his jaw to his ears, and there was so much happening to his body that he couldn’t focus on anything but how much he hurt.

But when a shocked chorus of “Whoa!” and “What the hell?!” and “Oh, my God!” and similar exclamations suddenly filled the lobby, he blinked furiously to clear his eyes and tried again to sit up and see what was happening to him.

And failed miserably when his body refused to respond, weighted down by a horribly familiar weakness he didn’t immediately recognize but somehow felt like he should.

Of course, Tony, being Tony, answered his desperate question anyway, though it didn’t really clear anything up.

“Wow, Rogers. You were a scrawny bastard, weren’t you?”

What?

A deep sigh followed this statement, and then Tony said, “That wasn’t necessary, you know. I had a gauntlet watch on.”

Who on earth was he talki—was that a cat meowing? Steve braced his arms, trying desperately to push himself up to a seated position and failing again, to his immense frustration. He did manage to force his eyes open, though, and the first thing he saw was Tony, standing next to him and looking both irritated and pleased, which pissed Steve off enough that he was able to forget the throbbing agony in his throat and his terrifying weakness for a few seconds.

Until he took a deep breath so he could chew Tony out for what he’d done to poor Wanda on top of whatever was happening to Steve himself, and promptly gagged on the pain. Above him, he heard another deep sigh, followed by, “Well, at least he won’t be a problem anymore. And everybody and their dog saw him try to attack me, so . . . I’ll call the Council. Happy, can you get an ambulance? I’m not putting him in my Medbay, even if Cho and Wu agreed to treat him.”

That made no sense to Steve. Nothing about this made sense and he was infuriated that he was being so blatantly ignored. He expected Tony’s disrespect, but no one else was trying to help him, and that was just unacceptable! Once more, he tried to sit up. Once more, he failed.

But this time, he realized why.

And screamed.

He was oblivious to the pain of his torn throat and damaged vocal chords, wailing in agony at the reemergence of the weakness of his old body, the one he had suffered as Sickly Stevie, the boy everyone had pitied and disregarded and dismissed. This couldn’t be happening! He was Captain America! He was strong and powerful and respected. He was a hero!

He was still wailing and flailing his arms frantically in his desperate attempt to deny what had just happened when the screeching wheels of an approaching gurney broke through his grief-stricken haze and he tried to turn his head. He didn’t have enough strength to control his neck and his head lolled to the side instead, leaving him with his cheek smashed against the cold tile.

His eyes were immediately caught by a huge black cat, sitting directly in his eyesight and almost completely blocking Tony from Steve’s view.

He wanted to look at Tony, to demand an explanation, an apology, to fix this, when the giant cat bared its teeth.

Steve went totally still.

Those wicked fangs were still gleaming with blood.

His blood.

This . . . thing . . . had just attacked him out of nowhere, ripped out his throat, and somehow taken his powers away. And not a single person was stepping up to help Steve or put that dangerous beast in a cage, where it belonged.

He and the cat were locked in a staring contest, righteous indignation clashing with protective fury — and losing badly — when he felt hands grab at his shoulders and ankles before he was lifted up. Pain like he’d never felt in his life knifed through him as he lost the stability of the floor and a single raspy scream escaped his mangled throat as the world went dark.

When he returned to consciousness four days later, he was greeted by a stern, no-nonsense woman who informed him that he was in the prison infirmary and would eventually recover, though his vocal chords had been damaged beyond the ability for anything to restore them to full health. Oh, and the serum had been completely purged from his system, so he had his original body back. However, the good news was that none of the known medical issues that had plagued him had returned, other than the asthma, and he should be healed enough to go to his cell in a week, barring any complications.

She swept from the room before Steve could get his thoughts in order, never mind demand more information. It would be another two days before his Accords liaison visited him, but that meeting ended rather abruptly when she told Steve that his pardon had been revoked and he’d been tried in absentia for all of his crimes, including his lies and betrayal of the Stark family in Siberia and his unprovoked attack at the Tower, and found guilty on all charges. Due to his return to his pre-serum body, it was decided that execution was unnecessary and he had instead been sentenced to life in prison. Once that news was delivered, there was literally nothing else to say, so the woman just nodded to Steve and left the room, valiantly pretending she didn’t hear a grown man the size of a underfed fifteen-year-old who sounded like he smoked eight packs a day whining about unfair life was and how mean people were being when he was only trying to help them.

His subsequent, and never-ending, protests of biased, unfair treatment and corrupt governments didn’t just fall on deaf ears. They were utterly ignored. Not even the other prisoners, the ones who were supposed to be there, agreed with him. But the worst thing? He became completely invisible. Not a single person would respond to his attempts to pick a fight, be it verbal or physical, and nobody would engage him in normal conversation. The only indicator that anyone in the prison knew he was there was the fact that they would move to avoid running over him, but that was it. He would have had more impact as a wall decoration.

Once again, Steve Rogers had become no one.

And if Tony sometimes hacked the camera in his cell and smiled as Rogers cried himself to sleep after raging in a harsh, ruined voice about how unfair his life was, well . . . maybe.

Maybe not.

~~~

The last measure of justice for Tony, with a juicy side of revenge, came for Wakanda, by way of her arrogant king and his less arrogant but extremely spoiled and entitled sister.

Wakanda as a country was deeply offended that not only had someone outside their country dared to take the personification of their deity as a pet, but the usurper was a white colonizer who had the unmitigated gall to be better not just at diplomacy, but his knowledge and ability to lead greatly exceeded their king's. And, as though that wasn't enough offense, he was also demonstrably more intelligent than their princess. But the greatest insult came from the fact that he was superior at . . . well, everything they could make comparisons on, technology-wise, whether or not vibranium was part of the equation.

(they were terrified to know what Stark could do with their sacred metal)

Shuri took the latter as something of a personal insult, as she had been told since the age of nine that she was the smartest person who been born in recent memory and her inventions were often nothing short of miraculous, while T’Challa bristled at the audacity of the aforementioned white colonizer to usurp his avatar, since he was the Black Panther.

They all either ignored the fact that Fiero and Tony had a Familiar Bond or simply didn’t know what it meant, but either way, Tony got nothing but grief both times he had to interact with the Wakandan Royals.

Then the third meeting happened, this time in front of the UN Assembly . . . and Fiero, who had reluctantly heeded his bondmate’s request to leave it alone, T’Challa and Shuri’s ignorance wasn’t worth getting excited about, finally had enough.

The reason for this meeting was the yearly assessment of all of the individual Avenger's registered skills and abilities. This meant that everyone was suited up and armed, though precautions had naturally been taken to neutralize any weapons should it be necessary. T’Challa, who was by pure coincidence last in line, had just finished his demonstration of the Black Panther suit.

And that was what ended Fiero’s patience with the fool.

He was strolling to his chair, face set in arrogant triumph, when Fiero, standing loyally by Tony’s side, gave him a look that stopped him in his tracks and also sucked all the air out of the room. The leopard nudged his bondmate’s thigh in reassurance and regally sauntered over to the young king, circling him slowly and with such intense scrutiny, even the onlookers were uncomfortable. After he’d made one full circuit, Fiero took four steps back and . . . sneered. There was no other word for his expression and T’Challa’s jaw dropped.

As did everyone else’s.

Fiero simply chuffed out a disgusted sound and stalked forward again, raising his paw and displaying his claws.

Which he promptly raked over the hip of the Black Panther suit.

Cries of alarm echoed through the room, but they quickly tapered off when a stunned, disbelieving Black Panther fingered the shredded remains of the supposedly-indestructible vibranium suit he’d just spent the last fifteen minutes bragging about and showing off.

Fiero yowled something that was so clearly insulting even the Russians were taken aback, and contemptuously turned his back, sauntering back to Tony’s side without a care in the world.

The Wakandans collectively died of embarrassment on the spot, while Tony just sighed and scratched his bondmate’s ears. He didn’t speak, either to explain or apologize, not that anyone could fault him for that. They’d all seen and heard the increasing disdain and resentment, clearly unjustified, that the country held for him, and nobody could blame him or his Familiar for finally having enough. And frankly, the way Fiero had proved the point about Wakanda’s ‘superiority’ was priceless. The fact that the first bonded black panther in three hundred years had blatantly rejected The Black Panther would quickly become a legend and not just among the assembled world powers.

In the meantime, since that little display effectively ended the meeting, Fiero and Tony made a quiet exit, stage left, accompanied by several of their teammates, and they all headed out for pizza.

It would take more than that for Wakanda as a nation to learn humility, and that undiminished arrogance would cost T’Challa both the throne and the title of Black Panther. Shuri, however, began to reconsider some of her long-held beliefs, which was encouraged by her deeply appreciative mother (she was so grateful, she sent Tony four crates of rare coffee blends, while Fiero got more toys, treats, and other adornments that befitted the majesty of the living avatar of their deity than he could use in three lifetimes). And after five years of Ramonda ruling as the Widow Queen while her son lost everything to his arrogance and her daughter finally grew up, Shuri ascended to the throne . . . but not to the title of Black Panther. Out of respect, that remained open and unclaimed until after the deaths of Tony Stark and Fiero.

The only exception to that was the invasion Tony had been warning people about for six years, because every weapon and warrior would be needed.

When the time came, Tony Stark and his bondmate, his black panther, stood shoulder to shoulder with the Black Panther, protecting the world.

And they won.

~~~

Tony Stark’s Familiar Bond with Fiero quickly became the norm among his family, friends, and teammates, even as he — they — became a living legend walking the world to protect its people, rescue them, and ultimately, save them.

But Pepper and Peter never forgot that Fiero had come to Tony’s side when he was at one of his lowest points and given him the unconditional strength, loyalty, and love he needed to rescue himself.

So they had a plaque made, one that would be hung in a place of pride in every home they lived in. And when Tony and Fiero breathed their last, after a long, satisfying, fulfilling life, one where the joys outweighed the sorrows and the triumphs overshadowed the losses, it was their epitaph, the testament to the strength of their bond and their love.

Out of all the souls in the world,
mine found yours and never looked back.

~~~
fin