Duty (An Armorer/Paladin Story)

I paced in the quinjet as I listened to the chatter over my headset. I could picture the action as I listened to Cap position the team, and their comments on the action. Bruce had been with me until just recently, when they'd needed him to take out a couple of machine gun nests that the army had set up as a last resort and the bad guys had captured. We were on a beach with jungle coming right up to the sand. It made spotting and neutralizing the bad guys difficult. We had a homegrown religious fundamentalist on our hands with a cult of followers; we'd been told it was a Jonestown type tragedy and gone in to help with body recovery and cleanup; instead of poison in the Flavr Aid, there'd been an unknown substance that made them all-for lack of a better word--crazy. Crazy and strong and tough to kill; they'd wiped out a detachment of the country's army. We were trying, with fresh military, to contain them to their compound while a solution was researched, but it was tough going. They were hot to get out into the world and spread the word. And the word was their particular brand of fanaticism combined with the substance they'd ingested, so everybody was most insistent that they stay put.

The radio crackled; we had a contingent of doctors coming in from our Seattle facility to get samples to help figure out what was done to these people and determine if it was reversible, and their ETA was thirty minutes. Personally, I had a bet with Wanda that the effect of whatever compound would wear off. She thought I was crazy--not without justification, as I'd been mutated myself and the changes had been on the cellular level--but from what I'd seen, permanent mutations just didn't come from digestion. The GI tract is pretty tough.

The battle seemed to be winding down. The army had brought some of its engineers and they'd erected a metal palisade around the compound. The hard part was getting the cultists back in it, but it sounded like most people had been rounded up. There were a few fatalities of the altered cultists, and these were being set aside for the professionals' arrival. The army would stay; they were bringing in doctors of their own to assist ours. They were also figuring out logistics for supply and continuing containment. Hopefully that wouldn't be necessary.

There should be time to finish mopping up before the doctors landed. I acknowledged this information and told the team. Steve confirmed that they should be largely done by then. I put a mark by Hawkeye's name on my list; he'd just cussed again when taken by surprise by a rogue cultist and bapped the guy over the head with his bow. The swear jar was still kind of a joke, but we had gotten the TV and Blu Ray player we'd originally planned on already as well as a party. This engagement might just put us over the top for another party after everybody settled up at the end of the mission. Tony was snarking as he encouraged a group of cultists through the gate with stinging rubber bullets from his suit's armament and I heard a woody crack as Thor brought down a tree with his hammer. Why? Dunno.

"He heard somebody coming his way and wanted to turn them," Cap said in exasperation before anybody could ask. He went to check on the situation, which is when it blew up.

"Get ready for incoming, A," Cap instructed me tensely. Shit. That meant it was one of ours, and I put down the rear gate of the quinjet. Over the headset, Thor was frantically apologizing, Steve was exasperated, and Vision was blasting Thor verbally. Finally Cap told me Vision was coming in. I confirmed and waited until Vision showed up carrying Wanda; without being told, he set her on the treatment table and I activated the AI.

"The doctors are about twenty minutes out now," I told him as he hovered. Literally. "Can you get on the com and let them know what the situation is?" The AI sprang up and Vision reluctantly turned away as the scan began. Wanda was unconscious and bloody, which I felt was consistent with having a tree dropped on her. The AI had a robust male Australian accent, one Tony had developed for his personal system but found it irritating; the rest of us liked it, and it was repurposed for our medical AI. The AI didn't see anything that was awful and life threatening, and Vision consented to sit with Wanda until the doctors showed up. I mopped up some blood after snapping on some treatment gloves, cleaned the worst cuts, and used butterfly bandages on the ones that would need stitches. Which, fortunately, I wasn't going to have to do. I'd been kind of pushed into my impromptu medical role since I'd started coming along on missions as The Armorer. I sat in the quinjet ready to fix things if they went awry, but I'd only had to pry Tony out of his Iron Man suit once, and since I was there, I picked up operating the AI system as well, read the manuals for the quinjet. This was the first time I'd actually used it.

I heard a commotion outside, and raced down the ramp. Cap yelled at me for turning off the com, which I didn't remember doing, but the problem was obvious; he and Iron Man were supporting Thor between them. He had a tree branch shoved through his chest.

Thor sagged to the ground short of the quinjet; Hulk burst from the trees and began bellowing; there wasn't time to calm him down, and Natasha wasn't on this mission anyway. Why only one person learned the code phrases to pack the Hulk back in Bruce was something I didn't understand. I ducked back into the jet, told Vision to clear the table, and grabbed the restraints. I'd worked with our engineers on a quick-deploy restraint for Hulk, and this would be its first use in the field. I waited until he smashed his fists on the ground, then brought the manacles down over his wrists. They immediately snapped closed, and Hulk tried to twist out of them, surprise quite evident on his face as they held.

"Calm down." I told him abruptly. "We don't have time for a temper tantrum." He was so surprised that he cut off mid-bellow. I turned my attention to Thor. He was on his knees, kept upright by Steve and Tony. Mjolnir's loop handle was around his wrist, so at least I wouldn't have to go searching for it. I scuttled back inside the quinjet for the handheld scanner; we waited in silence for the diagnosis. Beyond the obvious, I mean; obviously there were ribs broken and the lung punctured. The tree limb protruded front and back. The AI had begun to recite the damage and Cap was explaining concisely that in the fuss over Wanda's injuries that a cultist had exploded into action with a branch broken off the tree Thor had downed when I heard a familiar sound. The Bifrost light surrounded us, and Tony and Steve scrambled clear; I grabbed Thor's uninjured shoulder and arm to keep him from increasing the damage by falling.

We resolved in the Observatory on Asgard, and a frown creased Heimdall's brow as he saw the gravely injured son of his king. Their medical personnel exploded into the Observatory right after we arrived. There was a moment of dead silence as they beheld Thor's condition, and then they went to work. They were having trouble getting the back of the wheelchair off, so I pulled out my super-sharp knife, twin to the one I'd made for Odin, and cut it off. Thor was lowered gently onto the seat, and they raced away. I followed, answering questions about what had happened. I shook my hands out gingerly; they were feeling a little numb and I wondered if I was developing carpal tunnel. Anything to avoid thinking about Thor; his face had been ashy and blood had pumped thickly around the wound despite our efforts not to move the branch.

In the medical facility, I could hear raised voices; Mjolnir was in the way. I stepped into the room, picked up the hammer, eased the loop off Thor's wrist. "I'm just taking this for now," I told him. He was unconscious, but it never hurt to behave as if he could hear me. "I'll keep it for you until you wake up." I clutched it to my chest and backed away as Thor was swarmed by the professionals, some of whom looked at me funny. Thora, a lower level healer, touched my shoulder.

"Let us check your mutations, since you are here," she murmured, resolutely not looking at the hammer in my hands. Any time I was on Asgard, they checked to make sure that my fireproofing was still good. Thora seemed reluctant to talk after I hopped off the table and collected Mjolnir again.

"Your mutation is spreading," she said bluntly, finally.

"The fireproofing?" I asked. "I'm not going to lie, that's not so bad."

"No, the mutation that made your skin impervious," she said gently. "It has come back, and the cells throughout your skin are showing signs of reactivation."

I stared at her in shock. "I thought you guys had gotten rid of it permanently," I managed to say.

"We thought so," she said. "But your case is unique to our experience in the nine realms, and it looks like what we managed to do was suppress it."

"Can't you suppress it again?" I asked anxiously. Impervious skin doesn't sound too bad unless you get hurt and they can't fix you because they can't cut your skin.

She shook her head. "It is inadvisable," she said bluntly, and sighed. "The cells seem to be overreacting. If the mutation returns, stronger for the treatment, each time...we cannot risk further treatment. As it is, I am afraid that the density of your skin is increasing. Your body fat decreased three percent from the last time we scanned you, but your weight has increased four percent. As yet, the physical appearance and function of your skin is unaffected, but that would probably change. You might experience a lessening of your nerve function--"

"My hands are feel a little numb," I interrupted her. "I wondered if I was getting carpal tunnel syndrome." She frowned and scanned my hands and forearms again.

"No, I am afraid this is the mutation again," she said. "However, it seems that your hands and wrists are stabilized; there's no sign of active mutation there. Nerve function is down by five percent from your last scan. It doesn't look as if you'll lose any more sensation, but I believe that the loss is permanent, and that this will probably affect all your skin in a month, at the latest. I know that this is unwelcome news." She shook her head in sympathy as I stared at her. "Your fear of injury should be relieved somewhat," she went on compassionately. "Your skin will also provide some protection against concussive force, so if you are hit, it will be more difficult to damage the tissues underneath or the bone." I just stared at her in shock. I was really liking mostly normal skin again.

She went on, hitting the highlights of what was expected. It wouldn't affect mucous membranes and the mutation wasn't migrating to my organs or muscles, at least. "It affects only one specific type of cell," she offered. "You will still be able to cut your fingernails and your hair; those are unaffected. The cells have increased metabolism, so you will need to eat more calories to compensate. Your body fat is too low for your age and gender." We agreed that she should take a skin sample; they could culture it and see if they could come up with a flat out cure. She also took out my appendix, just in case it flared up after my skin reverted. With the technology they possessed, it took five minutes and a local nerve block; she also collected the skin sample. While Thora was cleaning up the few tools that she had used, I unsheathed my knife and poked the tip into my skin. I was rewarded with a bright drop of blood and was relieved. If the worst happened, I still had a remedy. I could make scalpel blades using that alloy, just in case.

"Your work remains effective," a voice from the doorway said dryly, and I looked over to see Odin in the door. I nodded.

"Doesn't cut the wind, but apparently it works on rocks," I said, trying and failing for lightness. "How's Thor?"

A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "It will take more than a branch to kill Thor," he said. "He will be kept here for his recovery." He held out his hand, and I got up and brought Mjolnir over to him.

His smile remained after he took the hammer from me. "It is odd to see a little human carrying the formidable Mjolnir," he commented.

I could still feel the uncanny energy from it. "I don't like to," I said. "It feels weird."

"It is the power of lightning."

"I don't like it," I repeated, smiling a little. "I wouldn't want to try to use it. I don't think it would want me to."

That got Odin's full attention. "Explain."

"I feel like it consents to me occasionally carrying it around. I don't think its tolerance extends to me actually wielding it."

"Interesting." He looked from the hammer to me. "But you have no difficulty with the hammer I gave you."

"No, but the little hammer is a whole different thing," I say, unsure how to explain it.

"Its charm is to assist the worthy craftsman," Odin mused. "Although you could strike a person with it, its purpose is not war." He offered his arm, and after thanking Thora, I took it and we began the walk to the Observatory. We chatted, and he thanked me for visiting Loki. I told him a couple of stories about his son in confinement, and he seemed reassured that everything was working out for all those concerned. "Loki has never aspired to be a warrior, though of course he learned the warrior's arts when he was younger. Frigga taught him her magic, as a diversion and employment as well as something a mother could teach her son to do. Perhaps I should not have permitted it."

"To do what instead?" I asked mildly. "He's smarter than Thor, restless, ambitious." Odin bristled a little.

"Had he applied himself, he could have become a warrior of Asgard, a good general for his brother."

I looked at him cynically. "He could have used his position as a general to foment rebellion. And don't look at me like that. Earth's history has examples of popular generals who have used that support to overthrow their rulers. Coups d'etat. And Loki is terribly charismatic. It would have been a disaster."

Odin glared at me; the force not at all dulled by the eyepatch. "And what would you suggest?"

"I don't know, I don't know the first thing about rule. But something to engage him that has nothing to do with politics or the military. Maybe the chancellor of your universities, or perhaps he could be appointed to a responsible post in another realm. I think what he wants is the public acclaim Thor gets. But acclaim for his talents and abilities. To be recognized as Thor's equal. And in some ways, he is Thor's superior, just as in other ways Thor is his." I shrugged. "You raised him to rule but gave him no realm." Odin stomped along beside me.

"And Thor! He refuses my throne," he groused. "He refuses to do his duty. He should be learning statescraft, how to rule, not just lead on the battlefield."

"He won't listen to me," I said, shrugging.

"And what have you been telling him?" he said, stopping.

"To stop hiding. If rule is such an anathema to him, work to rehabilitate his brother, who apparently did a really good job of ruling." Odin growled. "Barter for time," I offered. "Some of the Avengers may be immortal--I'm thinking specifically of the Hulk, because he isn't aging although Dr Banner is. But most of us will die, within the century. A hundred years is only a moment to Asgardians. He could barter with you to stay largely on Earth until the current Avengers die out, then return. My final suggestion was that he marry, produce a kid and heir to the throne. You could train your grandchild as your heir."

Odin grunted, offered his arm again, and we strolled on. "He wants to marry for love," Odin grumbled. "I wed Frigga because she gave me wise council. Love grew, later."

"You could remarry," I pointed out. "Have another kid." Odin swatted away the suggestion.

"We do not reproduce as readily as you humans," he grumbled.

I spread my hands. "Those were just my suggestions. Perhaps your advisors could come up with other compromises. I don't really know your culture, and anyway, I have my own problems. Smaller than yours, perhaps, but important to a smaller person, anyway."

After a moment, Odin said, "I will instruct the healers to attend your case. If a cure can be found, they will find it." Then, after a further pause, he asked about my odd armor, so I explained my slightly expanded role. He asked a few questions about that and our AI.

We continued in silence until we reached the Observatory. Heimdall glanced between his king and me, and after I thanked him for his timely intervention and Odin for his help with the healers, sent me back. He returned me to the usual landing spot by the housing block, so I went indoors. At my door, Sigurd was waiting, and woofed at me before going up the stairs. I followed him up to the third floor. Everybody was back, including Wanda, curled up on the sofa by Vision. I gave them my update on Thor, making sure they knew there was no timeline on his return. Then I went downstairs, showered and changed, setting aside the parts to be laundered and putting the rest in a sack to take back to their stands in my workshop. When I went back upstairs with the dogs, I didn't mention what else had happened during the trip to Asgard.