Changing Tides

Fury wanted to introduce him to Steve Rogers once the man was cleared from medical, but Harry wanted nothing to do with the meeting. Over the secure line, Fury told him that it could be private and nobody else would know, but Harry didn't even want to try. If Rogers heard his name, and put memories to that name, then there would be expectations to conform to that Harry really didn't want to do at the moment.

Damn Howard and damn his own need to fix things. He should have just informed the authorities of Howard and Tony's death. Sure, Stane would have been in charge, but Harry believed that karma had a plan and Stane wouldn't have survived that much longer than he already did.

He rubbed a hand over the reactor, releasing and recasting the silent spell that kept it from coming out of his chest.

Fury eventually accepted his refusal to meet Rogers, but it came with a price and, if he were honest, Harry only accepted it to get Fury off the phone. Become a consultant, go talk to Ross. At least it came with an obscene paycheck that Hermione could use to fund whatever her latest charity project was.

"Jarvis? Can I get a reading?" he asked once the phone disconnected.

"Palladium is at fifteen percent, sir."

Harry nodded and opened a drawer to pull out another device. This would be the second one in two weeks – he wondered how long it would take to go through one a day. "Fantastic. Did we get anything from Bruce's notes?"

"Nothing we didn't already know, sir. I am still running analysis on several theories."

"Thanks, keep me updated."

Normally, when he changed out a burnt core (or did anything around the area), Harry didn't look at his chest. He would keep his eyes closed and do it without looking or thinking about what he was doing. Curiosity got the better of him, so he pulled his shirt up and saw his chest for the first time in nearly a month.

Black lines extended further from the reactor. Harry took in a shuddering breath and traced one of them, shivering as he realized that this was the poison. This was what Palladium was doing to his chest. Trying not to think on it further, he quickly changed things out and covered himself in several layers. It took three shirts before he couldn't see the glow through his chest anymore.

"Talk to me."

It took a second before Jarvis, good old Jarvis, answered him. "Time remaining until you need to leave for your meeting with General Ross is twenty-eight minutes. The bar is located on the corner by your favorite Italian eatery and is the last family-owned bar in area. The owner's name is David Kindman and he dropped out of school at fifteen. The general clientele…"

Harry closed his eyes are Jarvis continued with the bar information and then the traffic and whatever other news his computer mind could spit out. He only listened to half of it, trying to think about what to do over the other half. He had no idea what he was doing anymore, but he did know that he didn't want to go down from this. He died once already while fighting Voldemort, and he had almost died several times after that because of his own mistakes. He would rather go out doing something than wither away on a…

"Jarvis, stop. This is what we're going to do."

"Shall I get Miss Potts on the line?"

"What? No, she's on vacation." Harry left the bedroom, not caring if Clint or Neville were around the corner and heard him. They'd have to know anyway. “That facility in Malibu is still mostly abandoned, right?”

“The old Stark facility has been empty since you fight with Mister Stane, sir.”

“Perfect, let the right authorities know that I plan on destroying it.”

“Sir?”

“No arguing, Jarvis. Let's do this.” The facility was one of the first built by Howard, too, so Harry would at least get some satisfaction out of destroying it. What Howard did was worse than Stane; Harry knew how Tony would have felt growing up with someone like Howard to guide him.

“Of course, sir. Shall I inform the others?”

“Yeah, sure. Tell Clint to get ready to go.” Harry knew the archer would hate him if he went to the bar without some kind of back up. “And start getting the blue prints ready for the new suit. I still want it to come to me if I need it.”

He could always try magic, but who knew what would happen if the suit wasn't being powered by his reactor when he did so? There were too many things that could go wrong and the last thing he wanted to do was go into battle with a malfunctioning suit.

Clint met him in the garage, lounging on one of the cars there. Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed a set of keys, tossing them toward the other man. “You ruin the wax, you have to drive.”

“Well damn, that's so hard. Why can't Happy do this?”

“He's on vacation as well.” Harry got into the passenger seat and pulled out his phone. Fury sent him the details on why he needed to talk to Ross, so he figured he might as well get caught up on it. “Jarvis, send the directions.”

A screen popped up near the dashboard, showing Clint here to go. He whistled and started the car. “I love your tech.”

“No, you love tear gas arrows.”

“I already have tear gas arrows.” Clint got comfortable in the seat before driving. “You know what would be cool?”

“A self-driving car?”

“Ooh, make me one of those, too.” Clint laughed, weaving into traffic. “No, what would be cool is arrows that I can fire into a wall socket.”

Harry looked up. “I'm sorry, but did you say a wall socket?”

“Yeah. Do you know how many buildings I have to break into? If I can find a wall socket, I can just stick it in there and hack in like that, no worries.”

“Are you going to program it?”

Clint shrugged, turning sharply. “Show me once and I can do it. I'd rather not have to fight with your tech on that level.”

“You're pathetic, Clint, and I'm not promising you anything.”

Clint shrugged and pulled up to a bar that, if he hadn't been given directions to it, Harry would have never found. It was more run down than he expected, but a job was a job and he really just wanted to see the man who would try and take Bruce.

“Stay here,” he told Clint before getting out of the car.

“Bring me a beer!”

Harry rolled his eyes and stepped into the dim and dingy bar. This wasn't a place he would have expected a General to be, but who was he to judge. A few of the patrons looked his way, their eyes widening as he came closer to the bar. He didn't even have to pretend to be Tony Stark as he wrinkled his nose. The wood was stained, obviously sticky in some places. He doubted the place kept clean anything.

“General,” Harry said, standing next to the man. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Ross burped as he sat up from his slumped position. “Come to use your weapon against me again?”

“I think once is enough, but that isn't why I'm here.” Harry brushed a piece of dust off his arm. “I'm also not here to tell you that your daughter came and took Doctor Banner away. No arguing, no prodding, just came and picked him up. Shame, maybe you should have thought about that strategy.”

Ross gripped his glass tightly, turning a glare on Harry. “If that isn't what you're here for, then get on with it.”

Harry smirked and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe down the bar before he leaned on it. He still made a face as the suit connected with the wood, but leaning was more comfortable. “You know a man named Nick Fury?”

“Whispers.” Ross pushed his empty glass away and asked for another. “He was used in some of our training examples.”

“I'll make sure to tell him that. He'll be thrilled.” Harry held up a hand to refuse a drink. “I'm here on his behalf, actually.”

“The great Tony Stark follows orders?”

“Only when the pay is good.” Harry studied his fingernails. “Believe me, my pay is very good.”

Ross snorted and sipped at his next drink. “Get on with it, Mister Stark.”

“I am.” Something beeped on his phone and Harry quickly glanced at the message from Edwin before continuing. “Though staying in this bar in the hopes to catch Doctor Banner unaware was a bad decision. He isn't even in New York, like I said.”

“Maybe I'm not after that monster.”

“Good because he isn't a monster. What's your real reason, Ross?”

“I'm not going to tell you.” Ross scratched at his head, the sound grating on Harry's nerves. “You tell me why a notoriously dead man sent you here.”

Harry snorted. “Dead, sure.”

“Stark, I'll ha--”

“I'm here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative, General. Word is that you have someone of interest that isn't our good Doctor.” From Edwin's message, Harry already knew a name and degree title, but he wanted to hear it from Ross. He wanted to hear that the bastard tried to recreate the Hulk. According to Fury, the World Council thought it would be a great idea for the new Hulk to join up, especially since Harry proved they could be somewhat tamed.

Harry had not agreed, but he was also here for a more personal reason. Ross needed to pay for what he had done to both Bruce and Betty over the years. He didn't care whether or not Ross joined in the end.

“Why should I give you my beast?”

“The pay is outstanding and you wouldn't need to hide yourself away in here anymore.” Harry looked around the bar. “I'm pretty sure I have four diseases right now.”

“You can't have him.”

Harry tilted his head. “Oh really? Shield has a habit of getting what they want.”

Ross gripped his glass so tight that it broke in his hands. “Not worth it.”

“Yeah, I thought you'd say that.” Harry pushed off the counter. “If you don't mind me asking, what exactly are you going to use your beast for? If he's even alive.”

That got a flinch and Harry had to hold back a mix between glee and anger. Sure, Ross had nothing to use against people, but what of the man who was sacrificed?

Harry stepped closer to him. “Is he alive, Ross?” The silence was answer enough and Harry reached out to pat his shoulder. “You like this bar, Ross?”

Ross had tensed under Harry's hand, but he still managed a slight nod. “Nice and central.”

“Go find a different hole to crawl into. Preferably away from me.” Harry childishly sent a shock through Ross before releasing the man's shoulder and heading to the door.

“What will the great Tony Stark do now that he knows my secret lair?” Ross asked, turning on his stool.

Harry smirked, putting on his sunglasses. “I'm a superhero, Ross. It's my job to utterly destroy secret lairs.” He saluted and walked out.

Clint was still waiting at the curb, seemingly oblivious as he drummed away at the steering wheel. Harry knew better than to think Clint didn't know everything about his surroundings. He got into the car and immediately took off his jacket, wrinkling his nose.

“How'd it go?”

“That place is disgusting and New York doesn't deserve to look at it.”

Clint laughed, pulling back into traffic. “So we're destroying a facility in California and a dinky bar in New York?”

“Ross called it his secret lair, so I think it's justified.” Harry tossed the jacket in the backseat, grinning. “Remind me to get Pepper on top of that when she comes back.”

“Work, work, work... That's all you do.” Clint grinned at Harry and flipped off another car as they passed it. “So what now?”

“I guess back to the tower. I don't know, got any ideas that don't involve you?” Harry fought with his cufflinks before they finally came undone.

“They always involve me,” he said with a laugh.

Once they were back at the tower and in the garage, Clint immediately went to where Harry kept a few spare reactors. He put in his code and opened it, taking out a few.

“Hey now, what are you doing?”

Clint hesitated before closing the safe and holding up the reactors. “I want to play around with these.”

“They aren't toys.”

“No, but I want to see if they can power more than your sluggish body.”

Harry rolled his eyes and motioned for Clint to follow him to the lab. “Very funny. It's a small energy source, so it should be able to power almost anything.”

“They'd make great cell batteries.”

“Maybe.” Harry shrugged and rolled up his sleeves. “You have something in your head, though. Tell me what it is.”

Clint put the reactors on the table. “Your facility in California is run by one, right?”

“An old version that only powers about twenty-five percent of the electricity. Why?”

“Think we can get it to one-hundred percent? Maybe not on that place, but somewhere else?”

Harry reached out to picked up one of them. If he was going to die, it would be nice to leave behind someone that might actually be useful. Howard had obviously attempted it and Harry never tried to explore it further until he needed it, like he had back in Afghanistan. He rubbed at his chest before smiling and looking back to Clint.

“It's certainly something to look into. Come on, let's get started.”