Chapter 7
"Where is he?" Steve asked from his position at the far end of the table. Blood and adrenaline pumped loudly in his ears. Near him, his shield sat propped up against the couch.
"Asleep." Clint perched on the kitchen island countertop and pulled at his shirt.
"What is that smell?" Steve couldn't help but ask. It burned his nose and made his eyes water. He eyed Clint's stained garment and breathed purposefully through his mouth.
The archer pursed his lips and pulled the offending garment up and over his head with a grimace. He threw it into the sink and turned the water on.
"It's nothing." Clint crossed his arms and looked away.
"He's nearby. The kid's been moved and sedated," Natasha added. She leaned over Clint to shut the water off and eyed the sink bowl with a curled lip. "You are not going to leave that there."
She met Clint's eyes and sipped at a large cup of tea. He signed something and Natasha raised an eyebrow.
"Sedated?" Bruce inquired from the other side of the table. His own cup of tea sat untouched in front of him. The circles under his eyes were dark and his hair looked mussed and unwashed. Steve hadn't seen him outside the lab in days.
"Pulled stitches," Clint spoke plainly. He rubbed offhandedly at a knee and ducked to whisper something in Natasha's ear. She cuffed him behind the head.
"But he's going to be okay?" Steve followed up. The kid's room had been demolished.
Natasha nodded with a forced nonchalance Steve could see right through. "Doctor Smint says he needs uninterrupted rest and zero stress."
"The Tower isn't exactly the safest place for either of those things." Bruce leaned back and gestured toward himself before motioning to the rest of them. "The events of an hour ago should make that clear. A lot of people want us dead."
Natasha moved closer and rested a hip against the table. The bits of glass still stuck in her hair glinted strangely under the bright light. "I don't think this was about us."
"This wasn't an attack on the Avengers," Steve agreed with her assessment; he'd walked through the destroyed room and one thing had been clear. "This was about murdering a kid barely old enough to drive while he was under the protection of some of the most powerful individuals in the world."
"That seems illogical." Bruce grasped his cup of tea and blew across the top. Natasha sat down next to him.
"More like straight up suicidal." Clint leaned back onto his elbows with a wince and reached for a bag of chips.
Steve looked over his ragtag team; with Thor off-world, they were still short one. "Where's Tony? He should be here for this."
Clint scratched his nose and Natasha shrugged.
"Lab?" Bruce pushed his glasses up.
Steve sighed and stood. How Tony had been able to slip away silently when he couldn't even think quietly was a complete mystery. "I'll be right back."
In the hall, Pepper walked past in a sharp suit with a covered tray. He smelled soup.
"Miss Potts." Steve inclined his head and moved to allow her more space. His shoulders and large frame filled even the widest of hallways.
"Steve," she grinned and it reminded him strangely of Peggy, "if you're looking for Tony, he's in Lab Two."
"Thank you, Miss Potts."
"Pepper, Steve, please call me Pepper." She frowned and Steve fought a blush. "I know I've asked before."
"Yes, Pepper." The name sounded strangely personal coming from his mouth.
"We'll work on it." She passed by him with a soft laugh. "I have to go before this gets cold. Good luck with Tony."
"Thanks." Steve swallowed back the odd pressure in his throat. He could count on his fingers the number of people he felt comfortable addressing by their first names in this era.
Inside the large lab, a dark head of hair bobbed to loud abrasive music. Above, security feeds looped and played as Tony manipulated them.
"Tony?" The music ate Steve's voice. "Tony?"
The billionaire leaned back until his chair rested on two legs and started a drum solo on his knees. Steve waved a hand.
The security feed on the left looped again and Clint darted across the hospital room moments before the windows shattered. It had been a close call. To the right, Tony and Bruce's conversation stopped abruptly in Lab Four as steel shutters sank down and blocked all natural light.
On the bottom in a small screen, Steve watched himself race up the emergency stairs.
"Tony?"
The man made a flicking motion with his hands and the views switched to outside. Steve moved closer, gaze glued on the blurry image of a man clad in black as he quickly assembled a sniper rifle.
"Professional," he murmured to himself as the assassin switched weapons quickly and efficiently.
"Jesus!" Tony jumped and his chair abruptly landed back on four feet. "Warn a guy next time. Didn't even realize guys as huge as you could be sneaky."
Steve crossed his arms. "The meeting?"
"Meeting?" Tony turned back to the screens and blew up the video of the unknown man on the edge of the roof.
"To discuss the gunman?"
"Right..." Tony tilted his head. "Jarvis?" The music turned off.
"What building is this?" Steve's words echoed in the suddenly quiet space.
"Top floor? Banking and investing." He popped the 'b' loudly and brought up another video. "And the gunman just took a nose dive off the side."
Sure enough, the man didn't pause before doing several flips and jumping off the far end.
The video replayed. "Did the police recover a body?"
"Nope." He paused it. "Jarvis? Can we sharpen this?"
The still frame grew less blurry. The man wore form fitting black and a mask covered the lower half of his face. Tony stood and rubbed his hands together. "Natasha owes me a drink."
"What?" Steve asked in confusion.
"You know what this guy is?" Tony smiled. He looked like he needed uninterrupted sleep and something to eat other than the half cup of coffee on the desk. "He is a fucking ninja."
"A ninja?" Steve tilted his head.
Tony switched the feed. Burning buildings filled the screen and the view from inside Iron Man's helmet tumbled and jerked as Tony flew.
"There." Tony paused the video as a dark shape moved in the far corner. It remained blurred and indecipherable. "I saw a ninja when we were fighting that fire. A ninja with a flamethrower backpack."
Steve rested against the desk's edge. "Why would a ninja burn down blocks of New York City and then try to assassinate a teen?"
The billionaire looked over at the question. "Well-"
"Sir." Jarvis' voice cut in and a new screen opened.
A security feed showed a dark office transformed into a makeshift hospital room. Pepper stood near the door, arms raised and the tray of soup spilled across the floor.
A man with a gun, leather jacket, and a mask talked to Pepper. With his free arm he supported the injured teen against his side like a toddler.
"Is this live?" Steve asked, horrified.
Tony didn't answer. He tripped over his feet and rushed across the room and out the door. The Iron Man gauntlets passed Steve in a blur.