Some Assembly Required
Earth
Wakanda
Northern Plains
T’Challa waited at the edge of the grass covered clearing with Okoye. Steve Rogers and his band of outlaws had spread themselves out in small clumps along that side of the perimeter. Shuri and Nakia were standing half a dozen feet away, talking quietly. In fact, the only person being less than quiet was Colonel Rhodes.
He’d arrived with Widow earlier that morning, and was currently dancing through the grass like a puppy on speed. He fell often, rolling back to his feet to continue. T’Challa couldn’t say he blamed him; in truth, he’d always felt responsible for the Colonel’s injury.
That paralysis had been the direct result of accords he’d helped push. He could have opposed them after the bombing, but he’d carried them to fruition, for his father’s memory. And, when the colonel had become injured, he’d chosen not to offer Wakanda’s medical aid to heal him, just as his father would have done. By the time he’d announced the truth of what Wakanda was to the world the damage had been past even their abilities to heal. So, he was very happy for the colonel now.
Despite the colonel’s antics it was as close to a purely calm moment as T’Challa had come across in some time. The wind was blowing gently. There were only a few clouds in the sunny sky, as if only there to provide accent lighting. It was that moment many artists tried to capture in their work.
It was hard to believe that anything could be wrong in the universe at moments like this, let alone the catastrophe that was apparently unfolding out there right now. The knowledge of which only made him want to hold onto the perfection of this moment as long as possible. But, alas it could not last.
“You should not be doing this T’Challa,” Okoye said, breaking the spell. Honestly T’Challa was impressed with how long she’d kept her silence. “These are not your people,” she continued, keeping her voice uncharacteristically diplomatic. “You owe them nothing.”
“I am doing this for our people Okoye,” T’Challa said, deciding to table the argument of exactly what Wakanda owed The Avengers. “This is a threat that affects all of us,” he added.
“I do not deny the threat,” she said. “But these people can go without you. Wakanda needs you here.”
“And if they fail, shall we stand alone against this storm?” T’Challa replied pointedly.
“Never since the creation of Wakanda has it needed its king more than we do now,” Okoye said. “The threats I spoke of earlier have not simply vanished in smoke. A storm is coming to Wakanda no matter what happens out there. And if you are not here to guide us through it, I fear there may be no Wakanda when you return. You cannot go,” she concluded.
“Nevertheless, I must,” T’Challa replied. “But I have faith that Wakanda will survive even if I do not,” he added turning to her. “My regent will assure it.”
“M’Baku will try I have no doubt,” she started, but a hand held up by T’Challa silenced her.
“M’Baku is not my regent, Okoye,” he said simply. “Nor, I think, would he accept the position if I offered it.”
“Then who?” Okoye asked. M’Baku had seemed the logical choice. He’d nearly won the right to rule Wakanda in the challenge. And, in the end, it was his people’s loyalty to him, and his courage that had saved the world from Killmonger’s insane reign. There was honor and intelligence in that man. He was a leader in his own right. And he respected T’Challa.
T’Challa did not respond with words, instead turning to face her with one raised eyebrow. “Oh no,” she said with a shake of her head as she took his meaning. “I am a soldier, not a politician,” she stated.
“You are a soldier,” T’Challa agreed. “But you have always been much more than that. And your devotion to Wakanda is unparalleled,” he added.
“What about Shuri?” she asked.
“Shuri has no interest in ruling,” T’Challa replied. “And she would be the first to admit that she would not make a good queen,” he added. “Give her a lab and resources and she will be quite happy.”
“Yes, but . . .” Okoye protested before trailing off. It was clear that the very thought of taking over as head of state scared her down to her toes. Some might have seen that fear as weakness, but to T’Challa it was an affirmation that he’d made the correct choice.
He took her hands. “You must do this,” he said earnestly, knowing she could not refuse him when the request was phrased as such. “For Wakanda,” he added, piling on. It took a moment but eventually she breathed deeply and nodded in agreement.
T’Challa said nothing. Instead he touched his forehead to hers, a sign of sharing and trust. “Thank you, Okoye,” he said quietly.
“For what?” she asked, only slightly bitterly. It didn’t happen often, but she was usually much surlier when someone so expertly pulled the conversational rug out from under her. It was something she was not accustomed to.
“For allowing me to go, knowing you will be here for our people,” he told her before releasing the embrace.
“If I am to be your regent,” she said with a steel in her voice “then I must make decisions upon my conscience.”
T’Challa turned around and grinned that boyish grin again. “I would not have it any other way,” he replied. “But I urge you, if you are ever unsure, seek out Nakia, Shuri, even M’Baku. Consider their points of view. Then make your own decision as you see fit. My father once told me that a good monarch hears all of his counselors before going and doing what he pleases,” T’Challa added.
Okoye grinned in spite of herself. “He never said that,” she declared with a shake of her head.
“Well, it loses something in the translation,” T’Challa replied with a grin that didn’t quite admit the falsehood.
She grinned again and turned to look in the distance. By happenstance she ended up staring straight at the cargo containers that had flown themselves to the field only a few hours earlier.
“I would still like to know what was in those containers,” she said almost to herself eventually.
“As would I,” T’Challa agreed just as Shuri pointed upwards. They followed her hand to a rapidly descending dot. Very rapidly descending as far as anyone in the target zone was concerned. It grew larger at an astonishing rate until reaching roughly five miles above the surface. Then it activated the large engines on its underside. Still, it was uncertain whether the lumbering space beast could arrest its momentum in time.
It looked nothing so much as a floating space whale. But as it got closer and more detailed it became clear that this was a space whale that’d had quite a bit of mileage put on it recently. Its hull was cluttered with the scratches and pits of high velocity impacts. Scorch marks could be seen streaking across the hull. And the patch job on the area surrounding the air lock was quite obvious.
“This is how you wish to go into battle?” Okoye asked skeptically as they watched it descend.
“It is beautiful isn’t it?” T’Challa replied, deliberately misinterpreting her scorn. She scowled at him but said nothing. They watched the rest of the landing in silence.
As the ship finally touched down the airlock opened to reveal Tony standing in his leisure suit. A ramp expanded down to the ground. T’Challa gave the three women with him one last embrace and joined the others as they assembled at the base of the ramp.
Tony said something they couldn’t hear and began walking down the ramp to meet them. A moment later the cargo containers dotting the perimeter of the field lifted off and headed for the airlock in a long line. It was like the world’s biggest version of Centipede hovering in the air over them.
The tension level in the group at the base of the ramp ratcheted up as Tony descended the steps. Many of the people there blamed Tony specifically for the accords, for their transition from hero to outlaw. For his part, Steve only swallowed, suddenly nervous. Whatever mistakes he’d made, whatever mistakes Tony had made, he still respected this man. He couldn’t help but feel nervous about their reunion.
Unbeknownst to him, Tony found himself feeling much the same way, had been since before the airlock opened. A large part of him was quite upset with himself for telling the others to let him handle this unpleasantness on his own.
As if sensing the increasing tension Shuri yelled “Hi Tony” as he reached the base of the ramp.
Tony squinted into the sun to locate the source of the shout. “Hey kiddo,” he said with a wave as he saw her. “What are you doing hanging around these miscreants?” he asked, in a rather forced attempt to lighten the mood.
“Seeing my brother off,” she replied. Tony stopped to look a question at the King of Wakanda who shrugged ever so slightly.
But before he could ask, Falcon spoke up. “She’s a little young for you isn’t she Tony?” he asked with trademark disapproval.
“She’s at least twice as intelligent as you, flyboy,” Tony replied. “What’s her age have to do with it?”
“Well . . . I just thought,” Falcon replied falteringly.
“You just thought I wanted the clawed king vying with Pepper over which one got to disembowel me,” Tony finished pointedly. T’Challa grinned.
“Steve,” Tony said in guarded greeting to the man who’d, by some quirk of group agreement, been the first person in the party as he came within easy ear shot.
“Tony,” Steve replied just as guardedly. There was an uncomfortable pause as Tony reached the group, as if none were sure what to say.
Finally, Tony offered his hand. Steve took it without thinking. “What the hell did you do to your hair?” Tony asked suddenly, as if he could no longer keep the reaction in. Steve grinned at the outburst, their hands parting.
There was another moment of uncomfortable silence as Stark regarded the man standing next to Rogers. “Sergeant Barnes,” he said eventually, holding his hand out again. There was a considerably longer delay before Bucky returned the gesture. “I think I owe you an apology,” Tony admitted mid shake.
“Yes, you do,” Bucky agreed.
“Well,” Tony said, clearly not sure what to say “we’ll get to that,” he said finally. “Right now, we are short on time, so if you will all prepare to board as soon as the cargo loading is complete.”
“What’s in these things?” Wanda asked from the other side of the group.
Tony regarded her momentarily. “Trust,” he said finally. “Or desperation, depending on your philosophical bent,” he added with a shrug.
“Well you certainly don’t travel light . . .wait,” Steve said, staring at one of the containers “is that that kid from Queens?” he asked.
Everyone followed his gaze to where a red and blue suited figure could be seen clinging to the long end of one of the containers currently queued to enter the barely larger airlock.
“Shit,” Tony muttered forcefully hitting a button on his watch, stopping the entire procession. “Peter,” he said into the unit, clearly frustrated. “Get down here.”
Peter thought long and hard about his options. He could do as Mr. Stark asked, in which case he’d have to hope his stubbornness outweighed whatever time constraints he was working under. Or he could simply start stubborn by refusing to come down at all; that one had an appeal to it. Or he could simply swing into the ship and hide. Thanks to Karen he’d overheard Mr. Stark state they were short on time. Afterwards there would be little they could do about his presence.
After taking that half second to consider all his available options he selected alternative three. He released his grip on the floating container, webbed its lower edge, and swung towards the entrance. It was going to be a tight fit, even for him; the train of containers had just happened to be halted with one half way through, negotiating the narrow (for them) passage.
Despite that he would have made it, if not for the stun blast Widow sent into that same crevice. He pulled up on his rope to change his trajectory but that just brought him directly into the path of the second bolt she’d fired. He bounced off of the door trim and fell to the deck unconscious.
“Nice,” Steve complimented her.
She shrugged. “I’ve been trying to impress him with the need to be unpredictable. I’d say I’ve failed. Then again, I never thought he’d track me here,” she added with a shrug
“You clearly underestimate his gift with computers,” Tony replied. “Wanda could you immobilize him please?” he asked. Wanda glanced for confirmation at Steve who gave a slight nod of approval. Tony noticed the interaction but said nothing, for a change.
A moment later Spidey’s unconscious body came floating down the ramp to the rest of them, supported on ribbons of red energy. “That’s good, keep him there please,” Tony said as the unconscious teen came within ten feet of him. He tapped his watch again to restart the loading sequence and bent over the hovering teenager.
“Parker!” he said sharply, attempting to wake the slumbering spider. He got the same result most parents earn from such measures; namely a slight twitch before drifting back off to dream land.
Tony turned back to Widow. “Did you have to use a full charge?” he asked in irritation.
She shrugged. “He’s started building up a resistance,” she explained unapologetically.
“Build up a resistance?” Steve asked as if his brain was having issues accepting his ears’ report. “Out of curiosity, how many times have you shocked him?” he inquired, turning to look back at her.
“As many times as he let me,” she replied simply, earning a slight shudder from all assembled.
Falcon whistled. “Wow, that many?” he asked. “It’s amazing the kid can still remember to breathe.”
“Um, yeah” Scott said raising a hand “how exactly was he able to do that? I mean you guys aren’t seriously suggesting he managed to follow an infiltrator that the U.S. government has been unable to trail for over a year now, are you?”
“He didn’t follow me,” Natasha stated with certainty.
“Then how exactly did he figure out where we were meeting?” Stark asked.
“Well . . . I don’t-” Nat started before Shuri cut in.
“He’s the one, isn’t he?” she said excitedly, pushing through the crowd.
“The one pain in my ass, yes,” Stark replied.
“Mine too,” Steve replied raising his hand.
“No,” she said as she stepped onto the ramp to get a better look at Peter “I mean he’s the one who hacked our network.”
“Wait,” Rhodes said, as he spoke up for the first time “you mean to tell me that someone hacked your security?”
“Hey,” Shuri protested indignantly before falling silent.
“We were concerned,” T’Challa explained “about anyone else accessing the cache.”
“You were supposed to extract and delete the data,” Tony cut in.
“And we did so,” T’Challa assured him “but I thought it wise to keep an eye out for anyone else who might know how to access the drop point.”
“I installed a watchdog program into the cache to alert us if anyone else accessed it,” Shuri explained. “But someone found it and traced it back to us. They managed to get into our system, find the files, and leave before we were alerted.”
“And you think the kid’s the one that did that?” Bucky asked doubtfully.
“I never should have given him that computer for his birthday,” Tony muttered to himself. “Friday,” he added “remind me to overhaul Stark Industries internet security if we get back.”
“Remind you to have me overhaul the security systems, aye boss,” Friday replied sardonically.
Tony ignored the jab to bend over the kid again. “Peter,” he said. When there was no response, he snapped his fingers directly over his face.
Peter jerked awake, struggling to stand in the field Wanda had him in. “Wait, what is . . . what is this?” he asked as he fought to free himself of the red bands of energy holding him in the air. “Mr. Stark?” he added noting Tony’s presence “Mr. Stark please put me down,” he pleaded. Then he webbed the ground, trying to pull himself to it.
Wanda grunted in effort as she found herself fighting his surprising strength. “He’s strong,” she said, intensifying her attempts to hold her prisoner in place.
“Peter,” Tony replied as Parker’s attempts to escape “Peter, stop it.”
It took a few tries, but eventually Peter heeded Tony. “What is this?” he asked.
“Magic,” Tony replied. “Now you can float there while you explain what you’re doing here.”
“I . . . I,” Peter stammered, suddenly embarrassed. “I read the reports you sent,” he said finally.
“Those weren’t meant for you,” Tony replied.
“Who cares?” Peter demanded passionately. “All that matters is that if you fail half of the universe will be killed. I came because . . . well, I came to help,” he said finally.
“This is way out of your league, kid,” Steve said, stepping up to stand next to Tony. “Sit this one out okay?”
“What difference does that make?” Peter asked exasperatedly. If I stay here and you fail, I have what, a fifty percent chance of dying anyway? And what about Aunt May? Statistically one of us will die. I can’t let that happen Mr. Stark. I can’t.”
“You’re not ready,” Tony declared.
“I’ll never be ready in your eyes,” Peter countered. “You’re so afraid that you’ll never give me a chance,” he added desperately.
“He’s got a point Tony,” Steve said.
“You mean besides the one on your head?” Tony snapped defensively. It had never occurred to him that he might have been overprotecting Peter. He didn’t think that was the case, but he couldn’t deny the possibility.
Steve took a calming breath. “Look, I’m just saying that you have a tendency to let your conscience do your thinking for you in these circumstances.”
“And what circumstances would those be?” Tony demanded. “Letting a teenager who can’t drive yet fight an intergalactic mass murderer?”
“That’s my point Mr. Stark,” Peter cut in. “You need all the help you can get.”
Tony didn’t respond. Instead he looked pleadingly at Steve, begging him to back him up. “What do you want me to say Tony?” he asked. “The kid’s got skills. And he’s right about the risks either way.”
Stark turned away from the both of them and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think. It was much harder than normal. He was completely against Peter coming, but suddenly he wasn’t sure why. Was he being overprotective? Or were they being reckless. Of course, Peter would want to come. Who doesn’t want to work with their idols? But he’d have never expected Steve to back the kid.
“What do you think Natasha?” Tony asked eventually, still pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’m sorry,” she responded, sounding shocked. “Did you just ask for my opinion?”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Tony replied quickly.
Widow blinked at that. “Well,” she replied “Peter’s main issue is his predictability, which really shouldn’t matter against a new opponent. I’d say he’s got a better chance of survival than most of us really.”
“Really?” Tony, Steve, and Peter all asked at the same time.
She shrugged again. “Well, it’s not exactly a premonition; I’ve never seen this Thanos guy fight.”
“So, you think we should take him with us?” Tony asked, pressing her for a straight answer.
Before Natasha could respond Okoye approached. “My King,” she said earnestly, drawing the attention away from the debate on the legal age for super-heroing. “I have just received word that UN forces have crossed our northern border. They are heading directly here at maximum speed.”
“How long until they arrive?” he asked just as the roar of tank engines reached them. The assembled group turned north just in time to see the first tank crest a rise roughly a mile away. Others followed it. Dozens of them.
Okoye began snapping orders into her bracelet communicator. “Have the Empini mobilize. Launch the interceptors. Inform M’Baku of this breach,” she said in one quick breath.
“It is being done. What are their orders upon arrival?” the bracelet asked. Okoye looked questioningly to T’Challa. T’Challa looked back, unsure of what to do. Technically Wakanda was oath bound to abide by the decisions of the U.N. in these matters, and the U.N. had decreed the capture of the renegades. Of course, his military could sweep the invading forces aside with the effort of the wind lofting a kite. But in so doing, he risked making an enemy of most of the world. Wakanda’s advanced technology would only avail it so far. And history was replete with regimes wielding more advanced technology being brought low by numbers.
“That won’t be necessary,” Tony said quietly from T’Challa’s other side. Despite the situation T’Challa was impressed; he’d been unaware of Tony’s move to stand beside him. He might have said as much but something in the technologist’s face caught his attention.
“You personally will guarantee the safety of our people?” Okoye demanded.
“It won’t be necessary,” Tony repeated, making eye contact with the overprotective general. As he repeated himself T’Challa realized what that look was about; Tony was about to do something he very much didn’t want to do. Something he would hate himself for. But it was also clear that he would do it.
“Tell our forces to stand down, Okoye,” T’Challa said as he acknowledged the older man’s sacrifice with a fleeting nod.
“My king!” she barked. “We must not allow this-”
“That was not a request, general,” T’Challa replied calmly, while making eye contact with Stark; a sign of trust.
She stared at him a moment longer, the instinct to attack fighting her loyalty. T’Challa ignored the delay; he knew the battle that was being waged within her, just as he knew the outcome.
“Ahh,” she growled in frustration before raising the bracelet to her lips once more. “All units return to ready status,” she commanded, raising a defiant eyebrow at T’Challa. Technically it was not the order he had given, but he let the difference between ‘stand down’ and ‘return to ready status’ go with a slight grin and half a nod.
“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” Steve said from Tony’s other side, making the owner of said side jump slightly.
Tony cast a quick glance at Steve. “I wish I didn’t,” he replied, turning his attention back to the impending convoy.
“What’s that mean?” Steve asked.
Tony glanced at him as if to explain, then thought better of it. For a moment his face revealed an intense self-loathing, before being hidden behind his mask again. “Ignorance is bliss,” he said instead. Steve thought about pressing him more, but decided against it. Whatever demons Tony was about to face were his to face. He couldn’t help.
The rest of that short wait for the arriving units was carried out in silence. As the armored vehicles arrived, they formed a semicircle around the group, keeping an interval of exactly fifty feet from the line of four in the front. The maneuver was performed with parade ground like efficiency. Both Steve and Barnes couldn’t help but be impressed by such precision, even if its ultimate aim was taking them into custody.
The tension of the moment stretched as the last vehicles took their places. Once set neither side made any moves, as if waiting to see what the other’s intentions would be. It was more than likely that at no time in the history of man had there ever been so much military power facing off. Clearly no one wanted to be the one to be the one to start that fight, yet both sides clearly saw no alternative. Except one reluctant man.
Eventually the rear hatch of an APC opened into a ramp. One figure stepped out of that hatch and made his way to the neutral territory between the two groups. He was dressed in the class A uniform of a United States general of the Army, replete with all the bells and whistles.
“Everyone, stay here,” Tony said before stepping out to meet him.
“Secretary Ross,” Tony said as they closed to within ten feet “I wasn’t aware you’d been reactivated.”
“Credit where credit’s due,” Secretary Ross replied ignoring Tony’s remark. He’d had enough experience arguing with him over the last year to not let the too bright little prick gain the conversational upper hand so easily. “You seem determined to self-destruct,” Ross told him.
Tony shrugged his watch out from under its cuff and pressed a button. “I think it best if this conversation remained out of the ears of your electronic devices,” he explained.
“Why couldn’t you have listened, just once?” Ross asked, managing to expertly mingle pain and frustration in his voice.
“How’d you find us?” Tony asked, ignoring the complaint entirely.
Ross glared at him momentarily before shrugging his shoulders and glancing up at the ramp. Tony twisted around to see Parker. Wanda had released her hold on him allowing him to stand on his own two feet.
“I’ve suspected for some time that you might be using Peter as a go between,” he said slowly. “We’ve had a mirror program on his computer since he connected it to the internet; turns out he’s quite skilled at cracking security, but not so skilled at creating his own.”
“Well, he’s young,” Stark replied.
“Yes, he is,” Ross agreed darkly. “It would have been much better if you hadn’t used him for this,” he added. “I personally like the kid. I won’t enjoy sending him to jail.”
“You are not arresting him,” Tony nearly growled, glaring at the taller man.
“Yes, I am,” Ross replied matter-of-factly. “I’m arresting him, you, and all of your friends, including the ones still on that ship. You’re all going to jail for a long time. Your equipment will be confiscated. Oh, and we’re broadcasting this little drama over multiple links. So, if any of you fail to cooperate the world will know it.”
“I wonder,” Tony replied “do you think it’ll notice when half the population drops dead?”
Ross looked disappointed. “You don’t really expect me to buy that story, do you?” he asked, adding just a touch of condescension to his voice, for flavor.
“If you didn’t believe it then why did you sign off on the mission?” Tony asked.
“Because you were going to go either way,” Ross explained. “Dammit Tony,” he added in exasperation. “I tried; I really did try to keep you out of this hole you’ve so deliberately dug for yourself.” Tony opened his mouth to reply, but Ross cut him off. “No, don’t thank me,” he said. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for your father. He was a good man, a good friend.”
Tony stared at Ross as that rage returned. Ross knew him well enough to know his biggest emotional triggers. His lack of closure with his father was high on that list, and it pissed him off for the man to use it like that. It even pissed him off to have his father used that way.
But for some reason it was not enough to get him to do what he knew had to be done. Whatever else he’d done, whatever else was going on, this was still one of his father’s closest friends. He’d been a figure in his life second only to Obadiah for years, until he’d learned the truth. It simply wasn’t that easy to throw all of that away.
Sensing that the conversation was over, Ross turned to head back to his line. The next words out of his mouth would be the orders to take them all into custody. It would be the order that would make them all traitors in more than just name. It would be the order that unleashed Armageddon on Earth.
So he cut them off. “You know Dad used to talk about you too,” Tony called out.
Ross turned back around, presenting a ‘humor him’ face. “And what did Howard have to say about me?” he asked, stepping back up to Tony.
“He said that you were a good man,” Tony replied candidly. “He said that you were one of the few people he’d met in his life that was a true public servant. He said that your greatest concern was the protection of the defenseless.”
Ross thought about that for a second. “And I suppose this is the part where you tell me that releasing you serves those ends?” he asked doubtfully.
“He also said you were the most intransigent man he’d ever met,” Tony added, ignoring the question. Honestly if he’d thought that argument would work, he’d have made it. He’d have gotten down on his knees and begged the man to let them leave. But Tony’s last statement was simply too true for that to have worked. “He said,” Tony continued “that once you’d assessed an issue there was simply no dissuading you. Your course was set like a freight train.”
“He said all of those things?” Ross asked.
“He did,” Tony affirmed. “The events in Chile, however, I had to find out on my own,” he added softly.
Ross’s entire demeanor changed at the mention of that particular nationality. The confidence his face had held for the entire exchange evaporated; his eyebrows flew up, his mouth dropped, and his eyes held a horror Tony had only ever seen in the mirror.
“You know?” Ross whispered.
“I also know that a secret court martial exonerated you, and the file was sealed,” Tony added. “And I know that the UN never saw that file when you were vetted for this position.”
“How long have you known?” Ross asked suddenly.
“Since I was sixteen,” Tony replied.
“That’s why you distanced yourself from me, isn’t it?” he asked.
Tony shrugged. “At the time I thought it made you a monster,” he replied. “But now I realize you had nothing but shit choices, and you chose the one that smelled the least. But you and I both know the UN won’t see it that way.”
“That’s why you told me about the Avenger initiative,” Ross said in an almost admiring tone. “You knew I’d do whatever I could to gain control over that group, and you thought this would make me your pet P.R. guy.”
“Something like that,” Tony said with a shrug.
Ross studied Tony for a moment. “What’s the one they say about genius?” he asked suddenly.
Tony blinked in surprise at the odd conversational tangent. “The difference between it and insanity is measured in success?” he asked.
“No, the other one,” Ross said.
“You know, it technically doesn’t count as ‘the one’ if there’s more,” Tony pointed out.
Ross laughed, admiring Tony’s nerve. “I have to give it to you Tony,” he replied. “You’ve got chutzpah. Here we are smack in the middle of the biggest military buildup in the history of the world and you want to argue semantics.”
“Thanks,” Tony replied automatically. “However, I was pointing out that a guessing game was probably a waste of our time, given the circumstances.”
“I was referring to the one about how genius still makes mistakes, but that they are a higher class of mistake.”
A dozen interpretations of that statement flashed through Tony’s mind in half a second’s time. None fit. “I’m sorry, I’m not following you,” he admitted finally.
“It’s just that, you think a servant of the people wouldn’t go to jail if he felt it would help those people,” Ross said pointedly. “And that’s if he truly believed your threat in the first place,” he added, stepping into Tony’s space.
That space’s owner remained completely calm. “Thaddeus, I have no doubt you would go to jail for the right reasons,” Tony replied. “But would you willingly dismantle the oversight you’ve so painstakingly constructed?” he asked.
“The United Nations advisory board will continue without me,” Ross replied confidently.
Tony gave him a look as if he couldn’t believe Ross had said such a thing. “Please,” he added in a tone designed to augment that look “you and I both know that the fact that the UN can agree to meet at the same time on the same day is proof of phenomenal aids. Getting them to agree on you was hard enough, and you’re a four-star general with more ribbons and awards than the boy scouts even have, not to mention that CMH. You go down this way and they’ll devolve into their usual political infighting. Confidence in the accords will sublime away faster than dry ice, particularly when Wakanda withdraws its support, with a no doubt touching speech. The ninety-day deadline on voting someone into your office will pass, and the accords will disintegrate.”
“That’s why your lawyers fought so hard for that little detail,” Ross accused as the final pieces fell into place.
“Believe it or not I actually do agree with the concept of the accords,” Tony replied. “But the odds that the UN wouldn’t micromanage the Avengers into impotency, whilst simultaneously patting themselves on the back, were the same as those of the next lottery winner being a dolphin named Splash.”
“You agreed with the accords, yet you sabotaged them,” Ross nearly snarled.
“Secretary Ross,” Tony said formally “we are getting on that ship one way or another. We are not doing it for you, or the UN or the US or any other political body. We are doing it for Earth. And there is a good chance most of us come back. The only uncertainty here is whether you go to jail, the accords implode, and exactly how many of your fine soldiers here die trying to stop us.”
“You can tell them whatever you want after we’re gone,” Tony added. “Tell them we convinced you of the greater threat. Tell them you decided not to throw these men and women’s lives away,” he added with a wave at the assembled troops. “Tell them a death sentence is an acceptable punishment for our transgressions.”
As Tony spoke Ross’s facial features passed through several categories, from anger to frustration, before finally landing on concern. “Tony,” Ross pleaded “if this is a suicide mission then don’t go. We’ll put an official team together. I can get work pardons for your friends. Just . . . let’s do this the right way.”
“There’s no time,” Stark replied. “I don’t even have time to explain all of this to you,” he explained as he shrugged his watch back out and deactivated his electronic scrambler. “I have to go, now,” he added before turning on his heel and marching back to his side of the line, not even waiting for Ross’s decision.
“Sir, what should we do?” a voice asked over the secretary’s ear bud. He didn’t respond immediately; the brazenness of that act of defiance was almost more than Ross could handle. He almost called his men down on the Avengers despite the aforementioned consequences. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t agree with Tony’s choice, but he had to admit it was now out of his hands. This would now be a matter for diplomats to hash out. And as much as the sudden turn of the tables angered him there was also fear. Fear of the consequences for the world if he did stop the Avengers here. Fear that he might be wrong. Fear for his godson who was apparently about to embark upon a suicide mission.
“Sir?” the voice asked again.
“Stand down,” Ross said finally.
“Sir?” the voice asked in confusion.
“I said stand down. All tracks minus mine are to return to staging positions,” he added just as T’Challa stepped up to him.
“You have invaded our country, Secretary Ross,” he said bluntly.
“I wouldn’t protest too greatly if I were you, being that your country just happens to be the first signatory to The Accords,” Ross replied coolly.
“Perhaps,” T’Challa admitted “but I must warn you, Secretary Ross, if you should ever again perform such an act I will be forced to intervene. I am sure you can understand, as a leader, the need to discourage such behavior.”
“Now, King T’Challa, surely you read the open extradition portion of the Accords,” Ross replied.
“I have,” T’Challa replied “but I must inform you that Wakanda will be withdrawing from The Accords. I will make a statement as such when I return.”
“If he returns,” Okoye corrected from his elbow.
“As such,” T’Challa continued, ignoring the interruption “we will no longer be subject to that clause or any other in that agreement.”
“You know that’s not how it works King,” Ross replied.
“Are you suggesting that you won’t accept our withdrawal?” Okoye demanded sharply.
“Not at all,” Ross replied evenly. “Wakanda was free to withdraw its signature from The Accords up until the moment it was found to be in violation of them. Wakanda may still, after it deals with the consequences of its malfeasance.”
“You would hold all of Wakanda accountable for this?” Okoye asked.
“Only its King,” Ross replied, leveling his gaze on T’Challa, who simply returned it.
“Over my dead body,” Okoye spat, gripping her spear tighter. It was clearly an effort for her to not level it in Ross’s direction. Inwardly T’Challa was impressed at her restraint.
“Of course, other arrangements could be made,” Ross replied smoothly “if Wakanda were to refrain from withdrawing. There would, of course, need to be bonded assurances that no such transgressions might occur in the future.”
“In other words, your concern for the viability of The Accords, should we withdraw, is greater than your need to punish me,” T’Challa interpreted. Ross gave a slight flick of the wrist that suggested T’Challa had the right of it, without ever actually agreeing. T’Challa caught the gesture and nodded, more to himself than anyone else. Then he locked his gaze on the American’s. “Understand me Secretary Ross,” he said in an unwavering yet somehow respectful voice “these people are under the protection of Wakanda. As such it would look unfavorably upon any negative actions taken upon them. This is my word as King of Wakanda.”
“Now that doesn’t sound like the statement of a King,” Ross observed.
“Tell me about it,” Okoye muttered.
“It is the statement of a man who has recognized the grievance he has helped to perpetrate upon innocent men and women. If no one else will, I will attempt to rectify it,” T’Challa said quietly before turning to head back to the group.
“I fail to see the grievance involved in demanding accountability,” Ross called after him, halting the king’s pace.
“I have since come to recognize the hypocrisy in that agreement” T’Challa replied without turning around. “We judge them for fighting the battles thrust upon our world,” he continued, not waiting for a replied. “We condemn them for the invasions of another’s soil that our own countries have perpetrated time and again,” he added before turning around. “We drove a wedge between friends for no other reason than our own fears. And here you stand, ready to arrest them as they willingly embark on a mission for you, that will most likely see their end. Can you not see the injustice in that?” he asked, stepping back towards the Secretary. “Or can you, as a member of the United States military, look me in the eye and say that you have not yourself been responsible for similar acts?”
Ross flinched ever so slightly as that particular question was leveled against him. Thanks to Tony’s revelation the events in Chile were already uppermost in his mind. The king’s question simply gave them a conduit with which they could rise up and slap him in the face yet again.
“Nor can I,” T’Challa confided softly. “Where were the calls for international oversight then?” he asked a moment later. Before Ross could say anything, he turned to head back to the group.
He made it back just as the last of the cargo containers disappeared into the ship. The hatch was only empty for a moment before Tony returned from sorting his things. “All aboard!” he announced loudly.
T’Challa pushed through the semi-line that was currently forming at the base of the ramp. “I will be accompanying you as well,” he said to Tony.
“With all respect,” Steve said from his side “your place is here. You’ve done far too much for us already.”
“This, I do for my people,” T’Challa replied.
Tony shrugged. “We need all the help we can get,” he said pointedly to Steve. “And he definitely qualifies as help.” It was clear that Steve wanted to object further, but in reality, it wasn’t his choice. The king was a grown man, perfectly capable of making his own mistakes if he so chose. And Tony knew more about what they were walking into than he did.
“Alright,” he agreed eventually, adding a sigh of discontentment for effect.
“Welcome aboard,” Tony said holding out his hand. T’Challa took it, gave a quick nod to the both of them, and stepped into the ship.
“What are you the conductor now?” Steve asked.
“I don’t have the hat for it,” Tony replied offhandedly before raising his voice. “Next,” he bellowed, keeping a hawk’s eye on the crowd. What he was looking for was three people down, directly in the center of the ramp.
Realizing he was busted Peter altered his course, stopping directly in front of Tony. “I’m going too,” he said as firmly as his sixteen-year-old voice could manage.
“Didn’t we just cover this?” he asked, adding a touch of annoyance to his voice. “You are most certainly not going. Even if I survived this fight, Aunt May would kill me.”
“You need me,” Peter said with a certainty belied by his stature. Tony glanced to Steve for help.
Instead it was Steve’s turn to shrug. “I hate to say it,” he replied “but we need all the help we can get. And-”
“-and he definitely qualifies as help,” Tony cut in, mouth twisting in bitterness as his words of all of twenty seconds ago were turned on him. But still he didn’t want to take the kid with him.
“Um,” Ross spoke up from the back where he’d been ruminating on T’Challa’s words “I’d just like to point out that if you don’t take him, I’ll have to arrest him for his collusion to subvert The Accords.”
Tony glared daggers at the two men. “Fine,” he said at last, with more than a touch of annoyance in his voice.
“Thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter replied before webbing his way into the ship.
“Let’s get out of here before anyone else decides they should tag-” Tony started before a shout from one of Ross’s soldiers cut him off.
“Incoming!” he yelled pointing up at the sky. The collected groups looked up as one to see a small speck heading their direction.
Friday immediately overlaid Tony’s sunglasses with an enhanced version of the image. “Crap,” he said reflexively as he recognized the red suited figure. “Friday, where’s the crazy bastard going to hit?” he asked.
“Assuming he maintains his trajectory he should hit the foot of the ramp in four seconds,” she replied.
“Everyone away from the ramp base,” Tony yelled. A continually widening circle formed nearly instantly, centered on the base of the ramp. It was as if he’d parted the heroic seas.
He had little time to be amused at that thought before the figure landed on the soft plains, leaving a shallow, insane man shaped crater. In all reality the body should not have stayed together, but the fact that it had did not surprise Tony in the least. Everything about that man defied reality.
“What the hell?” Steve asked from beside him.
“Just wait,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to shut this day out, even if only for a moment.
Meanwhile the rest of the assembled groups approached the crater tentatively. “He’s wearing a chute,” Hawkeye noted, standing near what had once been the head.
“Why didn’t it deploy?” Natasha asked, coming to stand next to it.
Falcon nudged the corpse’s red boot with his own. “Whoever he was he’s dead,” he announced.
“Really?” Scott asked sarcastically. “Is that what happens when you don’t use your chute?”
“Have you seen some of the people in this group?” Falcon replied.
Scott thought about that for a moment. “All right, I’ll give you that one,” he said grudgingly.
“Aw, that sucked,” the corpse said, cutting into the conversation as it started getting up.
“What the hell?” Falcon asked, leaping back from the apparent zombie and drawing his guns. Pretty much all assembled followed suit in their own way.
“Do we shoot it?” Rhodes asked from where he was hovering over the pack, every weapon in his arsenal pointed at the slowly moving . . . whatever it was.
“Next time Deadpool,” the corpse chided itself “pack the chute, then get drunk.”
“Feel, free,” Tony replied in a calm voice that drew a few stares. “It won’t make any difference.”
“I thought zombies weren’t real?” Steve demanded.
“He’s not a zombie,” Tony replied. “At least, I don’t think he is.”
“He? You know this guy?”
“He’s the bag of crushed nuts that stole Peter’s suit,” Tony said. He immediately regretted that analogy.
“Don’t worry, I’m all right,” Wade called out, raising his right arm in a thumbs up. The motion was punctuated by many loud cracks as the bones in his arm snapped back into place.
“Is he setting his own bones?” Steve asked, looking both confused and repelled at the same time.
“Yes,” Tony said simply.
“You know it doesn’t work that way, right?” Steve asked.
“Yes, I know,” Tony replied without elaboration.
“Well,” Deadpool continued as he slowly climbed out of his impact crater, setting various broken bones as he went. “You *crack* know what *crack* they say. Any *crack, crack, crack* landing you can *crack* walk away from is a good *crack, crack* one.” He then proceeded to bend backwards as far as he could go, creating a rapid-fire series of cracks. One of the soldiers in Ross’s group suddenly fell to his knees, puking his guts out. Apparently that particular stretch was the last straw. Several of those in attendance looked pretty close to that same reaction. The other half seemed on the verge of laughter. Tony was busy rolling his eyes heavenward as if to ask ‘why me?’.
“Was it something I said?” Wade asked in confusion.
“Wade, what are you doing here?” Tony demanded.
“Hey, it’s Deadpool,” Wilson insisted. “Get it right.”
“Why. Are. You. Here?” Tony ground out.
“Well I didn’t know you had to RSVP to save the galaxy,” Deadpool replied defensively. “But if you must know, my agent said there was a part for me.”
“He has a super hero agent?” Falcon asked.
“Wait, I don’t have a super hero agent,” Scott replied sounding hurt.
“No, I do not have a super hero agent,” Wade snapped at the assembled group. “That would just be weird.” Before they could ask, he began walking up the ramp, with an accompaniment of smaller cracks as the rest of his bones snapped into place.
“Alright I give; who is this guy?” Steve asked.
“Deadpool, or Mr. Pool if you prefer,” Wade replied taking off his hood and holding his hand out. Steve took it cautiously. “Mercenary for hire,” he added. “Whether you’re looking to have your nemesis dismembered, or perforated, I can handle it. No job is too big. Many fees are too small.”
“This guy stole Peter’s suit?” Steve asked Tony.
“He slipped it out of his bag,” Tony explained. “I found him swinging around New York scream singing some made up Spiderman theme song, while Karen administered continual shocks in an attempt to get him to take it off.”
“The shocks to the groin were the best,” Wade said. “Hi Karen,” he added, waving at the suit.
“Lethal mode activated,” Karen stated, shifting Peter’s suit functions.
“Karen stop it,” Peter countermanded. “I thought I told you to remove that mode.”
“I’m confused,” Steve said, ignoring the kid’s fight with his suit.
“I’m sure this isn’t the first time,” Wade cut in.
“How did this guy even know who Peter was?” Steve continued, ignoring the slight as well.
“He wouldn’t say,” Tony replied shortly.
“Yes, I did say,” Wade replied. “You just don’t listen.”
“A character flaw we can all attest to,” Clint replied.
“Let me rephrase,” Tony replied. “You refused to say anything that made sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Deadpool countered without elaboration.
“In what universe does the design of a suit indicate who owns it?” Tony demanded.
“Well, Miles Morales has a black suit, Gwen Stacy has a black and white suit, Gerry Drew has-” he said, clearly working up steam.
“Like I said, ‘nothing that makes any sense’,” Tony cut in.
“Granted, but a guy that can survive falling from a plane, severe electric shock, and apparently gunfire could be useful.”
“Useful is not the word I’d use to describe Wade Wilson,” Tony replied, with a raised eyebrow for effect.
Before anyone could reply T’Challa stepped through the pack onto the ramp. “How did you know where we would be?” he asked.
“Am I the only one that read the script?” he asked in a disappointed manner. T’Challa simply looked confused.
“Like I said, he’s insane,” Tony said.
“Well I like to think of sanity as just one possible viewpoint,” Wilson offered, as if such a revelation would be endearing. The looks on their faces quickly disabused him of that notion. “Besides, you need all the help you can get, don’t you?” he added.
Steve shrugged. “He’s got a point,” he added.
“Are you serious?” Tony asked, turning to Rogers with a look that meant same. “He’s pure chaos. There’s as good a chance he’ll kill us as anyone else.”
“Actually, as it turns out, I’m the least likely to kill you,” Wade replied. “I know, it surprised me too,” he added.
“You just jumped out of an airplane with a drunkenly packed chute,” Falcon pointed out from behind.
“Again, Wingboy, I read the script,” Wade said, twisting back to glare at Falcon.
“If this Thanos guy’s as bad as you say then we’re not in a position to refuse help Tony,” Steve said firmly.
Again, Tony’s eyes flew to the heavens in disbelief, this time with the addition of shaking his head slightly. “Fine,” he grated “but we need to leave, now.” With that he turned and marched up the ramp. “I don’t like how close we’re shaving this as it is,” he added as he checked his watch.
“What’s the rush?” Steve asked as he fell into step behind him. The others followed him up and into the ship. Despite the direness of the situation they couldn’t help but swivel their heads around, trying to take in everything they could about their very first real life, actual scale, spaceship.
“We’ve had some time to dig up some data on these Infinity Stones,” Tony explained without stopping. “They aren’t exactly what you’d call team players. When a stone’s bonded with the Gauntlet it cancels all the others out for a set duration. The duration is based on the order the stones are emplaced. Think of it like a combination lock to the universe’s biggest WMD. That order just so happens to be the one Thanos is following.”
“Which means the next stone will be the power stone, which is on Xandar Prime,” Quill cut in as he approached the group. “These science guys always take so long to say anything don’t they?” he added, with a wink at Natasha. She ignored him.
Tony ignored the interruption, instead taking a quick headcount. Then he touched his earpiece. “Rocket, we’re all in. Get us moving,” he said. “And if we can pick up any speed it would be advisable. This reunion’s already taken three times as long as I’d hoped.”
“Wait,” Quill objected “who put you in charge anyways?”
“I’ll second that question,” Hawkeye called, raising his hand.
“Thirded,” Lang added, raising his hand uncertainly. “Is that right?” he added in whisper form to Wanda.
“Do I look like I’m from Britain?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tony replied, focusing on Quill “did you want to stop to see the sights? Maybe do a little curio shopping for that perfect souvenir for the end of the universe?”
“Well, uh . . . no,” Peter responded slowly. The ship lurched upwards before anyone else could say anything. “Uh, nice to meet all of you,” he added with a rather uncomfortable wave to the newcomers, whom he was just realizing outnumbered his own group significantly. “I’ll just be over here,” he added before heading forward.
“I wasn’t kidding Tony,” Clint said. “After the mess you made with The Accords, I’ll be damned if I’m following you now. Hell, you’re lucky we’re here at all.”
“Clint, this isn’t helping,” Steve said warningly.
“Look, I’m sorry Cap,” Hawkeye replied unrepentantly “you know I’ll follow you anywhere. But he was content to let us rot in that hole. I don’t trust him. I don’t know how you could.”
Tony stared at Clint as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Steve opened his mouth to answer for him, but a motion from Bucky closed it again. “Steve,” he murmured “these issues need to be dealt with.” Steve glanced at him in surprise. Bucky simply nodded slightly, and took a step back. Cap hesitated for a moment, then followed suit.
Tony, meanwhile, had decided that, yes, he really was hearing what he thought he was hearing. A dozen emotions flashed over his face as he considered his response. Finally, he simply turned and began to stalk off.
“What; nothing to say?” Sam called after him. “I guess that’s your MO then isn’t it?” he added. Tony stopped, a sort of morbid curiosity about what that statement meant holding him there. “I mean you didn’t say anything when that old bastard put us away did you?”
“Yeah, how exactly did you get him to let us go this time anyways?” Scott chimed in. “He doesn’t strike me as the type to quit while he’s ahead.”
Tony winced at that question, cursing the halt his curiosity had imposed on his angry march. But he couldn’t just continue it now. The question would only come up again, and again. But that didn’t mean he wanted to tell a bunch of ungrateful punks the truth. “Maybe he’s just more willing to cooperate than you,” he said instead.
“That is not what you said to him,” T’Challa spoke up from the back. Until that moment he’d been resolved to simply sit in the back, arms crossed, and observe what was essentially a family squabble. But whether Tony knew it or not, he was certain that lying about what had happened would only come back to bite them all later. Besides, he’d gotten a feel for the man in their dealings and he had no doubt of the outcome.
“And how would you know?” Tony asked, half turning to glare at the king.
“Oh, you disabled all electronic eavesdropping methods,” T’Challa explained “but my hearing far surpasses normal human ranges. And I believe they have a right to know,” he added. This statement was met with general agreement from the group. Even some of those who weren’t officially outlaws at this point chimed in.
Tony looked up at the bulkhead in frustration before closing his eyes as if to try and master the feeling. By the set of his jaw he was less than successful. Eventually he sighed in defeat. “Ross was in command of a strike team attempting to recover an American warhead,” he explained. “It had been acquired by terrorists intent on blowing up a city in Chile. By the time they’d discovered the location it was too late to intervene. So, he called in a cruise missile strike on the building it was in. The building toppled into others. In the end one hundred and sixteen people were killed. But the strike damaged the bomb, keeping it from going critical. In the end the Pentagon decided to make the entire incident disappear. He tried to resign. They refused his request.”
“You knew about this?” Steve asked, shocked. He’d also heard the conversation, thanks to his enhancements, but the specifics were a revelation.
Stark turned to face them. “Why do you think I maneuvered him into going for control of the Avengers?” he asked pointedly.
“And that’s why you brought him to the compound,” Steve added.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rhodes demanded, speaking up at last.
“With over three hundred countries bugging the compound?” Tony asked incredulously.
“You could have blocked them,” Sam replied “like you did on the raft.”
“Blocking one bug is suspicious,” Stark replied. “Blocking a few hundred is a criminal conspiracy. Particularly when one side changes their minds in the down time,” he added. “All I was asking for was a little heads up play,” Tony continued bitterly. “Just a little trust that I had it under control. But you couldn’t even bother to ask why I’d brought Ross to meet you in the first place could you? Why-” he started, before stopping himself. Whatever he was going to say wasn’t necessary anyway. The entire bay had fallen silent. Tony turned back around to leave before he said any more.
“All this time,” Clint replied, matching Tony’s bitterness. “All this time you’ve known. All this time you could have ended this. But instead you just let him hunt us. You let him imprison us. And you just held onto it until your ass was on the line. And now, we’re supposed to trust you?” he added incredulously.
“Who are you to talk about trust,” Stark suddenly exploded, as he whirled on Clint “you’re the one that manipulated Wanda into leaving the compound!” Tony asked, coming right up to the other man.
“You were holding her prisoner,” Clint replied, staring Tony in the eye.
“I was-” Tony exploded before checking himself. “I was trying to give her space,” he hissed. “I was trying to keep her from having to choose between friends,” he added. Clint flinched, whether from the sudden intensity of the other man’s glare, or the statement, no one was sure.
But Tony didn’t stop. “You can tell yourself whatever you want; we both know this had nothing to do with her best interest.” For once Clint didn’t respond. Tony pressed the advantage by stepping even closer. “All her life,” he continued quietly “she’s been manipulated. First by me, then Strucker, followed by Ultron -which was kind of me again,” he added with a slight twitch that might have been considered something in the area of a grin. “I’d have hoped you were better than that. But you needed your heavy hitter, didn’t you,” Tony finished acidly. Then he stomped off. And for once no one stopped him.
In fact, no one said anything at all, allowing the silence to fill that section of the cavern. Finally, the one person most comfortable with discomfort spoke.
“Never has any group been in more need of my services,” Deadpool stated suddenly.
“As what?” Sam asked before he could stop himself.
“As morale officer obviously,” Wade replied. “Now if everyone could just hold-” he started before one word from Tony cut him off.
“Steve,” Stark said from where he’d stopped amidst his containers.
“Sorry,” Steve said unconvincingly to the red rascal before jogging up to Tony.
As he reached him Tony said “Friday, pop the seals.” Half of the containers opened up.
Steve stared at their contents in disbelief. “You’re kidding me,” he said finally.