Chapter 2
New Yorkers being New Yorkers and therefore being desensitized to all manner of violent weird shit happening in their own backyard, even an alien battle of epic proportions had become blasé after a night of talk show hostery, he’s definitely going to check to see what Cobert thought of the whole thing; dude’s hilarious, the cleanup from the battle was already well underway. Tony was not at all surprised that his favorite pizza place around the corner was still open despite being littered with dead Chitauri. Before leaving the Tower, Tony found his sunglasses and cap and then walked to the shop to pick up his order, extra everything. He found a few changes of clothes that looked like they might fit Bruce from a shop along the way. Of course, just about everyone recognized him, but he was able to make it back to the penthouse without any major incidents. Not for the first time, he was tempted to put a paper bag with a smiley face over his head. He could totally patent that; call it Hobo Baggins or something. Is that even funny, God he doesn’t even know anymore, he can’t still be tired. He hadn’t slept for so long in years! He just was so not up to people dealing right now. He was all kinds of achy. He walked stiffly, keeping his cracked ribs as stationary as possible while he moved. His PR grin felt like a rictus on his face. A paper bag smile would look more realistic.
He took the time while hurrying with the steaming pizza box to think about his options. He’d read Bruce’s file. He’d seen the hunted look in the man’s eyes when they would meet his own which was rare, and couldn’t help but feel a certain kinship with him. Bruce was Tony without his protective masks, vulnerable. Tony wanted to protect him, to give him a place where the man could just breathe and be himself. But that place couldn’t be with Tony, not until he had figured out a way to deal with the WSC. And he would find a way, come hell or high water, no one fucked with Tony Stark. He would give those bastards the indigestion of their life if they tried to devour him. But the question remained, what to do with Bruce Banner. By the time he’d arrived at the Tower and saw the large letter A on the top of the building, he had the beginnings of an answer.
>>><<<
“I can’t believe you got me an Iron Man hoodie to wear.” Bruce fresh from his shower and full from pizza lifted the green hoodie out from his chest to look down at it in bemusement. Tony shrugged, finishing off some oozy cheesy crust.
“What? It’s in your size, and looks awesome! I mean I would have gotten a Hulk one, but they haven’t made them yet. I can’t wait to see what your catchphrase is!” Tony finished, his voice exited.
“And yours is…” Bruce Banner trailed off questioningly. A song began playing from Tony’s mobile.
“Shaft!” Tony snapped his head up.
“That is not my catchphrase. Mine is, “I am Iron Man!” He began singing some of Black Sabbath's song as he tapped at his phone screen. “Hmmm, Fury says its time to see Loki off world. Through the Tesseract Stargate and beyond!”
“Oh, right.” Bruce nodded, his mouth a flat line. Tony frowned and fiddled with his phone.
“Is that okay, I know the guy messed with you in the Helicarrier...” Bruce shook his head, his hair flopping about.
“No…no it’s fine. I want to see him gone.”
“Preferably dragged off kicking and screaming. I hope Odin’s got something nasty in store for him.” Tony added with a sneer.
“If Norse lore is anything to go by, I wouldn’t want to be in Loki’s shoes for all the tea in China.” Banner said evenly.
“Have you actually seen Loki’s shoes, like no style what’s so ever, anti-style!” Tony laughed. Bruce pointed at his shirt.
“Worse than an Iron Man hoodie?” He asked.
“Hell no, your totally dressed to the nines Brucie dear.” Tony sighed morosely and gestured towards a bag on the sofa. “But…if it bothers you so much, there are some more ‘you’ clothes on the sofa.” Bruce moved quickly towards the sofa and rifled through the bag with a relieved smile in Tony’s direction.
“Yeah, these are more ‘me’. Thanks.” Tony waved his thanks off with an awkward hand.
“Forget about it.” Bruce swiftly got changed in Tony’s bedroom. “Soooo, you good?” Bruce nodded calmly fingering the middle button on his purple shirt. “Then let’s get going.”
>>><<<
Clint Barton was more than nervous. He’d only been free from Loki’s control for a day and a half. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the blue tinged contentment that had filled every part of his being, invaded him. He shuddered uncontrollably for a moment, before wrapping his arms around himself to still the tremors. He’d been mindfucked, it had been worse than anything he had ever experienced. Even his crap childhood couldn’t hold a candle to his time with Loki. Choiceless, enslaved, forced to kill his own- He wasn’t supposed to think like that. Natasha would be angry if she even suspected his line of thinking. This was all Loki’s doing, it was. He had to go and see him leave, hell; he wished he could see him executed. He wished he could carry out said execution himself, with his bare hands, slowly, painfully. His hands clenched, digging his nails into his palms. He was worried that he couldn’t be trusted not to kill the would-be God the instant he saw him again. When he had found out what had happened to Coulson, what Loki had done to him, what Clint had allowed to happen to the man who had been closer than any family he had ever known… He didn’t think he could constrain himself. Not anymore, he’d been too long without his own control. If he weren’t currently confined to his room and guarded he would have done something already.
“You’re getting rusty.” Clint started and turned to see Natasha Romanoff having entered the room in complete silence. Her eyes scanned him, seeing everything. He never concealed anything from her, he never could.
“Am not.” He retorted. She raised an elegant eyebrow.
“Oh?” Natasha asked. Clint winced, rubbing his arms.
“I…can’t. I’m…frightened.” Natasha moved to kneel in front of him and put her hand on top of his own on his arms.
“No your not, not really.” She said. Barton shook his head with a sad smile.
“No I am Tash, I really am.”
“If you can’t control yourself-” Natasha started.
“Then you’ll control me…” Clint interrupted bitterly. Natasha tightened her hold on him.
“No, then I’ll kill him myself.” She said. Clint’s eyes widened as his breathing stuttered.
“He’s a God.” He stated.
“He’s a dick, and I know how to preform a castration ritual.” She allowed herself a small genuine smile. She could show a little of herself to him, he deserved as much of herself as she could give.
“Ick. I don’t know what’s scarier about that statement. Your knowledge about that or the fact that you’re serious.”
“Hmm, both I should think.” She purred in his ear as he laughed.
>>><<<
Thor held the Tesseract tightly and kept his eyes firmly fixed upon his shackled brother. He wished he had had the time to see his beloved Jane. He was certain she was going to be very cross when she heard of his return and sudden departure. However he was also certain she would understand the importance of returning the Tesseract to its rightful place. Then again she’d probably wish to study the device herself. His eyes refocused on Loki. He couldn’t be sure with the gag in place, but it seemed to him that he was…smiling. Thor frowned, suddenly wondering if his brother might not have some mischief still hidden up his sleeve. The Man of Iron slapped at his shoulder distracting him from his musings.
“So, off you pop then, hop somewhere over the rainbow, and don’t rest in the poppies whatever you do.” Anthony Stark said rapidly.
“I will attempt not to, Man of Iron.” Thor replied gravely.
“Rrright.” Stark said while rolling his eyes. The tense man who dwelled within the green ogre shuffled from foot to foot, not meeting anyone’s gaze. The Captain, without his uniform, watched the proceedings steadily. And the Hawk…Thor did not like the look of the archer’s cold gray eyes as he stared at his brother; the ruby headed Lady Widow standing loosely by his elbow. Not that he wished to begrudge the Hawk his just revenge. But family was family, even if it was adopted family. Thor fixed his eyes at Loki and forcefully turned the Tesseract device, transporting himself and Loki back home. He greeted Heimdall with a booming hail as the golden machinery spun brightly into being around them. There was no place like home.
>>><<<
Steve Rogers wasn’t really surprised at Stark’s lack of seriousness at such a vital occasion. Though he was pleased that he once again understood the references. He watched the brothers closely as they disappeared into the light. He was surprised however, that Stark had bothered to show up at all, after leaving the debriefing so rudely yesterday. He also found it curious that Dr. Banner was still with him. But the fellow had to kip somewhere, and he really couldn’t blame him for not wanting SHIELD accommodations. He himself wasn’t crazy about staying in the rookie apartment building, conveniently located in good-old downtown Brooklyn. Living in his childhood town, surrounded by others of his own age, sharing nothing in common with them, made him realize once again how out of touch he really was. Sometimes he felt his full ninety-five years, the passing of time lying heavily on his muscular shoulders. Sometimes…he barely felt human. He shook hands politely and said his farewells to the team before leaving on his old motorcycle that Fury had found preserved in his father’s storage, and re-gifted to him. He had no idea where he was going. He was lost in every sense of the word; he wished he could be found. He decided to visit the Catskills temporarily, but couldn’t find what he was searching for, whatever it was, though he did enjoy the brief breath of fresh air. Reluctantly, he ended up going back to his lonely SHIELD issued apartment.
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(3d)abny
Tony left Bruce and New York behind a few days after sending Loki home. He and Pep had already drawn up some plans for the reconstruction of the Tower. He mentioned something about the incoming cold weather as an excuse to Bruce before hopping on his jet with Pepper for Malibu. He wanted to distance himself from Pepper as well, in case the WSC decided to attack him through her. But she would have none of it; being the feisty, sexy creature he had fallen for. He didn’t tell her about the WSC. She knew something was wrong, but she didn’t pry. He loved her for that more than anything. She could push to his breaking point, and then leave it up to him. Ask without asking. He wished he could share the burden with her, but he wouldn’t. She would go all mama bear and attack the World Security Council head on. Which he wouldn’t mind watching, except that he was afraid that she would get squished in the struggle. Power without a face was dangerous. It was not held accountable, and did not give a shit about anything that wasn’t itself. He didn’t want Pepper to have to face off against the soulless organization; she was too good for them. Tony however, wasn’t.
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(1.5w)abny
Tony Stark entered the Helicarrier in his newest suit, Mark VIII. The carrier was currently flying over Hoboken, New Jersey. He was tempted to stop and check on Bruce at the Tower on the way. Unfortunately, he remembered his promise to keep himself separate until the threat was dealt with. He’d even gotten Happy out of the way. He’d sent him over to protect Pepper as her undercover bodyguard. Hopefully that would protect both of them, and of course Rhodey was as safe as his best tech could make him, which was very. He hadn’t seen Fury since the disastrous debrief from hell, and he really wasn’t all that crazy about doing so. The man’s words still stung. They still felt true, hell maybe they were. But that didn’t really matter. It was important that he upgraded the Helicarrier, and be a good little engineer. It was a vital tool in protecting the populace, and the fact that it had been taking out by an assassin with an arrow and a few lines of code was just plain sad. He would rather have delivered the new designs and mods electronically. But unfortunately the upgrades needed to be imputed manually into the servers to ensure their security. He reluctantly stepped out of the suit when he found an empty room to leave it in. No one could take it, but he hated being stripped of its protection. Not that he was weak or anything, he could handle Fury, yeah, he totally could. He strode down the hallway, waving cockily at the pencil pushers that passed him. After a few minutes wandering down the halls he detected a noise that sounded like someone…snoring. He looked around the corridor in each direction and saw no one. Then he looked up at the large vent crossing the hall with a grating in the middle. He found a chair by a door and dragged it over. He climbed it and peered in through the grate. A vague human shape seemed to be sleeping within. He took a screwdriver out of an inside pocket and popped open the screen, and began poking the person obnoxiously. “Oy!” Clint Barton yelled wrenching his body to the side. His sudden violent movement caused the vent to crash to the ground with Tony on top of it. Clint crawled out and glowered at him with deeply shadowed eyes.
“I could ask a lot of questions right now and I really, really want to. So lets start with why you were snoring, I thought you were a master assassin. Isn’t snoring, un-ninja?” Tony asked while struggling to his feet. He straightened out his rumpled clothes. Clint arose to his full height and stared down his nose at the billionaire.
“I could strangle you right now in eleven different ways, is that ninja enough? And I’m more of a sniper than an assassin. So I snore, got a problem with that?” Barton said aggressively. Tony put his hands up playfully in surrender.
“Oooh touch-y! And the vents?” Tony queried.
“What about them?” Clint asked warily, keeping eye contact, his mouth a thin line.
“You sleep in them? Don’t you have a bed?” Tony probed, leaning back on a wall.
“I was mapping them out and fell asleep. Got it?” Clint grumbled.
“Not really no, but let’s pretend I do. Soooo mind guiding me to the server room while you’re here? We can catch up on old times.” Stark said. Clint reached a hand behind his neck and pinched.
“Yeah, not really up for that Stark.” He said tiredly.
“Awes come on, we barely had a chance to talk last time.” Tony begged.
“Lucky, lucky.” Clint muttered to himself. “What do you need to go there for anyway?” He asked.
“Fury wanted me to update the carrier, stop it from being taken out by snoring snipers and the like.” Tony smirked, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Clint looked up, feeling guilty but not showing it.
“Fine, whatever, the rooms this way.” Clint moved off quickly towards the room in question, Tony walking beside him. Tony noticed how Clint’s shoulders hunched when they walked past other SHIELD agents. He also noted how said agents either ignored Barton or outright scowled at him. He broke the silence between them gleefully.
“So Natalie here?” Tony asked.
“Natasha. And it’s none of your business.” Clint said brusquely.
“That’s my favorite kind of business.” Tony said with a wink.
“Here we are, Stark. I’m off.” Clint said dropping him off at the door to the server room. He then began looking for the nearest grate to climb through.
“We’ll always have Shawarma!” Tony called after him as Clint disappeared into the darkness of a vent.
>>><<<
Being thrown seventy years into the future was an experience Captain Steven Rogers wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy, and he had some pretty nasty enemies, but still... It honestly terrified him. It wasn’t even so much the shocking differences between the centuries. It wasn’t the new age technology; the constant attacks on his 40’s sensitivities and ‘old-fashioned’ morals, or even the missing history that he was still trying to catch up on. It was in actuality the glaring similarities between this time and his own that truly jarred him. He would walk down an unfamiliar street in Brooklyn, past a row of televisions that recorded his movements in a shop window, then his head would snap around to see a park across from him. A park that he had often walked through hand in hand with his mother before a coughing fit would overtake him…then he would fly right back through time, until the noise and bustle of this futuristic City once more dragged him back to this reality in a dizzying blur. If the world had changed completely he could have dealt with that, he could have adapted, but this…
It would always come upon him suddenly, seeing a familiar car, classic, the smell of roasting chestnuts as he would leave the train, the once familiar streets, a well known brownstone, having a sarsaparilla from familiar shop, now called soda, Lady Liberty, still inspiring, every time he turned around there was something new, old, shocking him with its unfamiliar familiarity. So when SHEILD offered him a chance to do some good, Avenger PR work in Washington DC, he almost literally jumped at the chance to leave this hauntingly ghost-filled town. He needed to get away, even if only for a short while. The cleanup from the Battle of New York was well underway and he wasn’t needed here. The other Avengers had each gone their separate ways, though he did have their contact information. Once he arrived and settled in the Capital he had every intention of writing them letters. He may not have trusted SHIELD since the Tesseract business, but he did believe in the Avengers Initiative, it had given him new purpose in this strange new Century. And if he had to play the dancing monkey once again to keep the Initiative alive, he would do so, because it’s what Captain America would do, though he hoped this time he wouldn’t have to lift a motorcycle filled with dancing dames. He wouldn’t hold his breath though.
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(1m)abny
“Is Widow still AWOL?” Maria Hill asked Nick Fury after giving him her monthly report.
“She sure as shit is!” Fury shouted.
“What could she be thinking, do you think she’s defected?” Maria asked.
“She wouldn’t. Not without Barton. I have no fucking clue what is in that woman's head.” Fury said rifling through the reports on his desk.
“On a lighter note, Stark’s upgrades seem to be holding up well.” Maria said, looking down at her tablet. Fury snorted.
“Of course they are, the man would do anything to stay on as a consultant to the team.” Fury said ruefully. Hill rubbed her forefinger anxiously.
“Are we going to do anything about the Mandarin, Sir?” She asked in a rush. Fury let out a huffed breath.
“We can’t.” He said.
“Why?” She asked simply. Fury spread his hands.
“The WSC is making its move.” Fury said quietly.
“Against Stark?” Maria asked with a gasp.
“So it seems.” Fury nodded.
“But what about the civilian casualties?” She questioned.
“Not our problem.” Fury replied.
“But isn’t-” Maria said angrily.
“Stark will handle it or he’ll fail, but we are not allowed to get involved.” Fury said gall making his words stick in his throat.
“Shit.” Maria said succinctly.
“Yeah…shit.” Fury agreed.