Chapter 3
“Captain Rogers,” Agent Barton greets as Steve enters the conference room five minutes late – he hadn’t meant to be late, he’d been distracted listening to Tony talk about his bots, and SHIELD’s New York headquarters wasn’t somewhere Steve was too keen on visiting.
For all that Steve had read about Agent Barton’s impressive skills as an archer – Steve wondered at the practically of using a Neolithic tool for modern weaponry. Steve was old, but at least he wasn’t as old as the bow and arrow – Agent Barton looked as if he’d simply rolled out of bed. His hair was stuck up all over the place, both legs resting on the table as he leaned back in one of the many chairs, but there was a hard set to Barton’s jaw, and the harsh lines carved into his face told Steve much about him.
Whether Clint Barton was another SHIELD lackey to keep Steve ‘in check’ was yet to be determined, but Steve knew that Barton was smarter than Sitwell, and not to be trifled with.
“Agent Barton,” Steve greets back amiably as he walks into the root, taking the seat across from the man. “Is Agent Romanoff here yet?”
“I’m here.”
Resisting the urge to whip his head, Steve slowly turns around. He hadn’t realised there was anybody behind him, and he stands back up to take her hand. Her grip is firm, soft calluses on her slender fingers, and her smile is sharp and coy all at once. “Agent Romanoff,” Steve smiles back.
“Captain Rogers,” she acknowledges, going to sit at the head of the table, crisply opening the file she brought, “let’s get started, why don’t we?”
Agent Barton groans. “That’s boring, Nat. Can we do this somewhere else? Introduce the Captain to some cafés? I need coffee.”
“The break room is right next door,” Agent Romanoff says, unimpressed. She flicks her bright red hair behind her shoulders, raising an eyebrow when Agent Barton opens his mouth. He closes it with a grumble. The smile on Agent Romanoff’s face grows softer, almost fond, and Steve has read their files, how well they both worked together on the field – it’s painful to watch them and remember the easiness Steve used to have with…
It isn’t the time to think about that, Steve forcefully reminds himself, tuning back to Natasha’s words, “so, Captain, we’re part of a team Director Fury is trying to assemble. Others on the roster include Doctor Bruce Banner, Thor, and Captain Danvers.”
She slides the folder over to Steve. He quickly scans the briefing – Fury had explained the general idea but refrained from expanding to give Steve time to adjust to the future, and Steve is suddenly excited to be a part of it. It will give Steve purpose, and, most importantly, “Doctor Banner will be joining us?”
He can’t keep the excitement out of his voice, and Agent Romanoff latches onto it with suspicion. “You know Bruce Banner?”
“He’s Tony Stark’s Science Brother,” Steve grins as innocently as he can. If they’re going to be a team, these agents need to realise that Steve isn’t taking SHIELD’s ridiculous syllabus on the future. It gives Steve a brief flash of satisfaction to see Agent Romanoff’s face blanch for a second before he can collect herself, and, to his surprise, Agent Barton cackles.
“Who got you a phone?” he asks, finally taking his feet off the table and leaning forward, the bored glaze in his eyes gone entirely.
Steve steadily maintains his innocent grin. “I went and bought it myself.”
He knows that SHIELD can probably access the information in his phone if they learned that he possessed one, but Steve has nothing to hide. Yes, it irks him that SHIELD could probe so deeply into his life, and yet they would eventually realise that Steve was in possession of technology they tried to keep him away from. He remains baffled at why they adamantly kept Steve away from such a wonderful tool – still, if they tried to take it away from him, well… Steve knows both legal and illegal ways to procure new ones.
"SHIELD didn’t notice?” Agent Romanoff prods, eyes sharp and reassessing. Steve knows that in his plaid shirt and combed back hair, his looks can easily deceive. Perhaps his reputation precedes him, too – he had FRIDAY search for Captain America, and the results had Steve cringing and laughing all at once: the epitome of patriotism, the virtuous, law-abiding citizen.
SHIELD hadn't known to expect trouble because they never suspected the truth.
It might be useful to keep them ignorant, but Steve is exhausted at having everyone treat him like a fool or a fragile, fragile thing.
“No,” Steve decides to nonchalantly reply, idly flipping through the file in front of him and watching from the corner of his eye as Agent Romanoff continues to silently appraise Steve.
It goes on for another second.
And then, she nods to Agent Barton.
“Captain, call me Clint,” he smiles. He reaches one hand over the table, waiting for Steve to shake it. After a moment, Steve does, and Clint's smile broadens. “It seems I started with the wrong impression of you.”
“Let’s go introduce you to modern cafés,” Agent Romanoff chimes in, standing up and tossing the file in the bin, her aim perfect. “Don’t trust Clint’s tastes, and you can call me Natasha.”
“In that case,” Steve says, not quite sure what exactly is happening, “call me Steve.”
Natasha's smile is entirely too wide and too full. “Well, Steve, I think we’ll have some fun together.”
It turns out, neither Agent Barton nor Agent Romanoff have a good history with rules.
And they’re more than happy to bend some for Steve.
“What things have you done with the internet, Steve?” Clint wiggles his eyebrows. A pause, and, “oh god. That feels weird. Can we stick with Captain?”
They’re tucked in a corner of a coffee shop at Park Avenue, Natasha treating them to their cups of coffee. Steve had been overwhelmed: coffee was coffee, not the endless list of absurd names he couldn’t understand. Thankfully, Natasha had raised an eyebrow at Steve and ordered a frappuccino for him – which turned out to be the sweetest, most sinful drink he had ever tasted.
Sugar was not something you could get cheaply when Steve grew up. And drinking so much of it felt like a guilty, forbidden pleasure.
“You can call me whatever you like, Agent,” Steve shoots back, and Clint makes a face.
“Okay, fair enough. Steve. That’ll take some getting used to. But the important stuff: you need someone to guide you to the best the internet has to offer.”
Natasha snorts, her lips twitching. She doesn’t come to Steve’s defense, though, choosing instead to calmly sip at her cup of warm tea, leaning back against the corner sofa she claimed for herself.
Steve shrugs. “I mostly watch Youtube. I read a few articles – don’t quite understand the obsession about Mordor man, but I did read the books during the war. I know why one does not simply walk into Mordor.”
Clint chokes.
“Who the hell,” he curses, “wrote your SHIELD file?”
“Peggy did, back then,” Steve haltingly says, “she wrote everything wrong so people wouldn’t be encouraged by my outlandish ways. Throwing yourself on a grenade isn’t really in the Army’s recommendations.”
He knows she’s still alive, but he hasn’t found the courage, or the strength, to find her. She has a husband, and children, and less than ten people know that Steve is alive. Peggy isn’t included in the list, retired as she is, and Steve doesn’t want to intrude, to dig up her old wounds that are still too fresh for Steve – he isn’t ready to face everything he’s lost all over again yet, content to stay in his bubble of FRIDAY and Youtube videos.
“She would do that,” Natasha nods, and then, “why the grenade?”
Despite the pain, Steve is grateful. It’s refreshing to talk with someone who doesn’t care about kid gloves. “It was a test. I like to think I passed. You knew her?”
“Peggy was still Director when I joined,” Natasha explains, voice soft. There’s a story there, and Steve makes note to dig into why she sounds fond of Peggy and less so of Fury or Secretary Pierce.
Clint makes a noise. “So,” he cuts in, “what have you been doing other than learning about memes?”
“Watching Youtube,” Steve admits easily, and because he really can’t resist any longer, “why does SHIELD have a file on Tony Stark?”
Both Natasha and Clint snort. It’s Natasha who answers, “I take it you didn’t bother to search about him?”
Steve shrugs. “I read his files. I didn’t want to intrude further on his privacy.”
“How can you break all the rules and then be so nice?” Clint grumbles.
“I, to put it nicely, liaised with Stark Industries before he left that life,” Natasha speaks over him, “and his technology, if he wanted to put it into use, would have placed him higher than you on the Avengers list.”
Time travel, clean energy, artificial intelligence – Steve thinks of all the inventions he’s watched Tony talk about, of flying suits and flying cars and life-saving technologies. And he thinks of Tony trying his hardest to inspire people of all ages to enjoy science, and the money and time he throws freely to keep children in school, hospitals running, and families fed.
A hero isn’t a title. It’s in the actions and the doing.
“Why isn’t he still on the list?” Steve asks.
“He’s an ass,” Clint shortly announces, making Steve frown.
“He’s an ass ‘cause you were an ass,” Natasha shakes her head, lips curling up, amused. “He refused. Said he liked teaching kids more than being government property. Always puts our calls on hold because, apparently, he likes watching the line blink.”
A startled laugh bubbles its way out of Steve. “Well. I think SHIELD just can’t afford him.”
The all too-knowing look Natasha sends him makes him want to squirm. Her smile turns sly. “He’s moving here soon, you know? That big ugly tower you pointed out at the corner?” She nods her chin towards the window, where the construction site is visible, cement mixer trucks queuing to enter, “that’s 200 Park Avenue, or the new Stark Tower.”
“Supposedly,” Clint adds, “Stark’s going to install an arc reactor. Enough to power his whole building and all of the city’s schools, hospitals, and shelters.”
Steve looks back at the towering hunk of concrete and steel, somehow less ugly than it used to be. When he turns to face Natasha again, he knows that she’s figured him out.
“I can get Ms. Potts to arrange a meeting.” Then, as an afterthought, she adds, “you might be the perfect person to convince him to join.”
Steve has no interest in forcing anyone to do anything they don’t want to do, but he can’t deny wanting to meet Tony.
So he just nods, and tries his best to not sound too eager.
“Okay, JARVIS, what’ve you got for me?” Tony leans back in his sofa. Pepper’s spent the entire morning haranguing Tony about safety standards and floor plans for Stark Tower, signing documents upon documents that remind Tony why he made the best decision giving the CEO title away to Pepper.
A series of holograms light up, showing viewing statistics and the latest recording. “I have checked that the arc reactor in your chest is not visible throughout the entire video,” JARVIS dutifully reports, “and you received roughly three million dollars for last month’s Youtube views. I took the liberty of transferring it to the September Trust Fund.”
“Thanks, dear,” Tony grins. He watches a few extra seconds of the video anyways, needing to see for himself. No one can know that Tony’s walking around with the most coveted piece of tech in the world. He’d learned his lesson from Ob – from Stane, and he keeps the light carefully covered. Letting the sound of Rhodey’s laughter rush through him and chase away those thoughts, Tony finally says, “alright, let’s upload this baby. JARVIS, name it: Mama Bear and Microeconomics, put it in the MIT Bloopers playlist.”
“Very well, sir.”
Tony hums. “What about our Crazy Steve project? You got anything good for me?”
“Always,” JARVIS sounds almost affronted at any hint of failure. The holograms morph in front of Tony, showing a location map in… Brooklyn? ‘Steve’ barely has a digital presence, the only account he has is his email: [email protected], which is frankly an insult to Captain America’s identity. Or, whoever this crazy-stalker-slash-confused-citizen is, they know too well about Tony’s issues with the soldier his father was obsessed with.
That’s a scary thought.
“J, do you have location data? Can we track his movements?” Tony thinks aloud, and the map shrinks to show the entire New York city, with roads highlighted and little timestamps next to each route. ‘Steve’ seems to spend his time solely in Brooklyn, travelling around the same few blocks for an hour each morning – most likely for a run – and then just wandering near what is presumably his apartment. Except, this morning, when he made an unexpected trip to an office building in Manhattan and… a coffee shop across Stark Tower?
Even scarier.
Tony flicks his fingers to zoom in on the map, “what’s the building ‘Steve’ visited today, J?”
“Unmarked, sir. Would you like me to search in alternative databases?”
Tony shrugs. “Chin up, JARVIS. Not the first time we hacked past the government. Rhodey doesn’t even bother calling about it anymore.”
It’s a vaguely familiar location, a little off Times Square. He scratches the back of his neck, fiddles with his phone. Peter’s been quiet today, making a dull day even duller, and –
“Sir, I found a match in SHIELD’s databases. The building appears to be their New York Headquarters.”
“Seriously?” Tony hisses, “how low are they going to stoop to try get me to talk with them? Didn’t they learn enough from Natalie?”
Tossing his phone on the couch, he pulls up his email on the holograms and starts typing himself, needing to vent his annoyance.
From: [email protected]
Sent: Thursday, 9 May 2011 on 10:12
Subject: tell fury i’ll sic pepper on him
Steve,
You can cut it. SHIELD is not getting my tech, my help, or my money. Expect Ms Potts and Stark Legal to follow up. Stop making a shame of my godmother’s agency. And fire your bonehead of a boss who thought this plan could work. Coulson will do it officially when he gets wind of this.
Worst Regards,
You know who I am and what I can do
From: [email protected]
Sent: Thursday, 9 May 2011 on 10:31
Subject: Calm Down
Tony,
I’ll handle it, but please don’t blow SHIELD up, refrain from hacking too deeply (lost cause, I know) into their servers, and don’t forget to have lunch.
- Pepper
When Steve locks his apartment door and takes off his shoes, he feels more refreshed and energetic than he’s felt since… before all this. It’s pleasant, to find a modicum of purpose and a plan for tomorrow that doesn’t involve trying to desperately come to terms with being thrown out of time. He doesn’t trust Natasha and Clint with his life yet, but he has a feeling that one day, he will.
Being SHIELD agents aside, they’re ridiculously talented – and more importantly, good – people who are more than government lackeys.
His hunger well-sated with the seven hotdogs he had for dinner, Steve lets himself slump in the armchair and enjoys the strange feeling of looking forward to waking up. They’ll train tomorrow, test out how they fare against each other, and Steve’s itching to release all his pent up energy on something other than the hopelessly weak punching bags of the local gym.
After a while, he fished out his phone and presses his thumb on the little circle on the bottom to ‘unlock’ it. Steve smiles at the little envelope icon on the top left of the screen. Edward must have written while Steve was too distracted to open his phone.
Eagerly, he taps on the icon and –
He frowns, feeling his heart drop and confusion mount.
Yes, he knows Edward is not a robot but is an artificial intelligence who can do a lot of complicated things.
He doesn’t understand the rest of it, though. Ms Potts? Stark Legal? Godmother? Did Steve do something wrong? And how did Edward figure out that Steve’s associated with SHIELD?
From: [email protected]
Sent: Thursday, 9 May 2011 on 22:17
Subject: Re: tell fury i’ll sic pepper on him
Dear Edward,
I think you might have made a mistake. I do not know a Coulson nor do I know what SHIELD wants with you.
Hopefully, that helps whatever legal problems Stark Industries has.
Sincerely,
Steve
From: [email protected]
Sent: Thursday, 9 May 2011 on 22:41
Subject: did i stutter
STOP PRETENDING
Steve shakes his head. He supposes he’ll ask Natasha tomorrow about what all this is about. She hadn’t made fun of him for his confusion about technology, and had been delighted enough to know Steve had snuck out against SHIELD’s will.
Maybe something is wrong with Edward. Natasha had warned him about viruses, and Steve has half a mind to send another message asking if Edward is alright.
It feels foolish, though, so he ends up closing the mail with a sigh.
There’ll be answers tomorrow, and hopefully Edward will be healthy again.
Tonight, he’ll just turn back to Youtube and search for Tony’s familiar face and that calming voice that sends Steve into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.