Duty (An Armorer/Paladin Story)

The night air felt cool and refreshing. The dogs were waiting outside, breaking off pursuit of some undoubtedly terrified critter to greet me. Sigurd looked from Cap to me, and pointedly put himself between us as we walked. Torburn marched ahead.

"Spit it out, Steve," I said wearily.

"I want to apologize for what happened last night. I wasn't planning on telling you like that; Tony's known about how his father was killed for awhile and I didn't expect him to go off like that."

"Tony's not the most emotionally stable Avenger," I note dryly. "I think only Bruce's alter ego is worse, and even there, it's pretty one note."

Steve shrugs in agreement. "I had no idea he had that information about you, the recordings. Are you ok?"

I stop. "Not really," I say. "The news about Mr Stark was upsetting. I don't like having my nose rubbed in the fact that my mentor wasn't perfect, but fundamentally...it's gong to take some time for me to adjust my feelings. I know what Mr Stark did for me in employing me, working with me and teaching me. He did things that are morally questionable at best, and that's something I'll have to think through later. But the onus now is on his son. He's apparently let the research go on, and it sounded like it's...not good at all. He's apparently still employing that scum Steiger, knowing what he's capable of."

"Tony went personally to collect the information on the first man who had the skin thing," Steve assured me.

"Nick said he ordered him to do it," I said sternly. "It's not out of the goodness of his artificially stabilized little heart."

"You talked to Fury?" I nodded. "But the mutation isn't nearly as bad for you," he said encouragingly. "The Asgardians took care of it, anyway."

"Except they didn't," the words exploded from me. "It's coming back, and it's more extensive this time. It's affecting the muscles too." I blinked hard and bit my lip firmly to keep from blubbering.

Steve stopped, so I did, and because I did, the dogs did too. "I didn't realize," he said slowly. "You found out when you took Thor back?"

"Yep. They always do a scan to check. We didn't think it was that big a deal, but now...it's kind of terrifying. I don't know how far it will go."

After a pause, Steve offered tentatively, "But there were those years when you were down South where it was stable. The mutation might have just responded to the attempt to eradicate it. It might have just made itself a little more difficult to treat again. It doesn't mean that what happened to Grierson will happen to you." I nod.

"That's what they think on Asgard," I say finally. "But that was without the new information."

"The mutation doesn't care about information," Steve reminded me. "It just...is. It does its thing. And it sounds like it's thing is to be pretty stable." We started to walk again.

"OR maybe it would have gotten worse anyway, just more slowly over time. I 'm trying not to get too worked up about it until I know more," I said. "Plus I have to conserve my energy. I'll have to deal with Stark soon, and Thor, too. He's not going to be happy with me." I explain my conversation with Odin briefly. "But he's a big boy, he could have told his father no, that he was going to do his thing, or agreed to live up to his responsibilities. But Thor likes his prestige as Thor, Odinson, high and mighty of Asgard, footloose and fancy free." My voice was a little irritated. "He wants things to be easy."

"Don't we all?" Steve said mildly.

"Yeah, I think everybody would like that, but most of us understand that it isn't possible. There are always consequences for doing the easy thing over the right thing, and leaving other people to clean up your mess isn't right." Steve quirked an eyebrow at me, and ahead, Torburn jumped up to snap at a moth. He was so big it was easy to forget he was still a puppy.

I tried to remember if there was a reason lately Steve might think I was being hypocritical but couldn't think of anything. "By the way, if Bucky really was conditioned so thoroughly he was incapable of consent, then I'm ok with him coming here if that conditioning has been erased. If things have been straightened out with the government, this is probably the safest place for him. It would be easier to rehabilitate his image with the support of the Avengers."

"Really?" Steve asked, and I nodded.

"Just...be sensible, Steve. I know this is an opportunity to help your best friend, maybe pay him back for all the ways he helped you when you were growing up. But he's not that guy anymore. He might have the memories but his experiences since he fell from the train are probably going to prevent him from ever being that guy again. He's only had bits and pieces of a life since. And he's going to have a lot to deal with, including resentment for you," I said as gently as I could. "You were both given the serum, but you volunteered. It was done as safely as possible, and you had clear goals. Bucky was not a volunteer, I doubt very much if his health and safety was given any consideration at any point in his treatment by Red Skull or HYDRA. You ended up a hero. He's a nightmare. You've always acted according to your conscience. He hasn't had that luxury. He's always been the protector. Now the roles are reversed, largely, and he might resent that too. I don't know the guy at all, just what I've heard about him. But my point is that right now, you don't know him anymore, either. And you've got to be prepared for that. I don't think it's possible to overestimate how damaged he is."

Steve didn't say anything. "You might want to find him a therapist," I offered. "Somebody he can talk to who won't have any expectations." I paused, and decided to throw a friend of mine under the bus. "I know a woman from college who's a therapist; she helped me adjust after my accident. She's really good at her job and she's also a good person. I could contact her, see if she'd be willing to work with Bucky. She's in New Jersey, so he'd have to go see her, or they could possibly Skype."

"Please," Steve said after a pause. "Bucky might not be able to come here, and he'll need somebody. Fury will be talking to the team about it later this week; I think he's waiting for Thor to show up. Nothing's been decided yet. And he'll need an arm; he hasn't replaced the one that was torn off in the fight with Stark."

"Stark ripped off his arm?" I said, too loudly. Asshole.

Steve shushes me, stops, and explains. About the snowy wastes of Russia, Zemo's plan to make the Avengers defeat themselves, the devastating fight. Holy shit. I rub my forehead and hand him a dollar.

"What's this for?" he asks, puzzled.

"I just swore in my head. Ok, so once he decides what he's looking for in an arm, I can get to work. As long as it isn't impossible, he can probably have whatever he wants. I can make the arm, but as far as the bio part of the biomechanics, he's going to need a specialist. And you guys..." I look at him and shake my head. "This guy Zemo really did a number on you, and it's still resonating. And there were more Winter Soldiers? Jesus." At Steve's wince, I pull out more money and shove a few bills at him. The implications of what he's told me about Zemo and the Winter Soldier and Tony and Steve and the Avengers is hitting me now. "It's a literal miracle that things have been patched over so well, but my god, those patches are breathtakingly thin." I shove the rest of the bills at him, being proactive; I usually don't carry money around, but I'd bought some flowers for my workshop and a plant for my room when we were at the florist.

"Here. Just take my money, because I'm really freaking out here and I can't keep track. Ok, so first of all, we need to make the system by which we engage the super bad guys better. Some communications with the government of the area, so they can at least evacuate the field of engagement. We can't work under something like the Sokovia Accord, but if we are more willing to work with the authorities, it will help to stabilize our intervention and publicly demonstrate that we aren't the bad guys, that we're really there to help. That will be more effective than the center down the street that we opened." I start talking faster. "We're seeing a rise in altered humans or just those with awesome tech because the Avengers made it ok to come out of the closet. And if baddies want to succeed, they've got to be bigger and badder than us, so we REALLY need to do more with our non-lethal alternatives, and we've got to highlight or new direction for people. We need to show we care about the people we're trying to protect. It's easier for a smart person who's lost everything to plan revenge if they don't think we care." I start to shuffle around.

"Jesus. Jesus, Jesus. I can't say that I liked Mrs Stark the few times I met her, she always looked at us like we were manky actual lab rats, but I guess Tony loved her and to find out that the parent he loved who reciprocated and the one he always clashed with were offed by the same guy who just happened to be the best friend of your biggest rival was a huge shock, of course it was, and to have that exploited so brutally, well, I can't even imagine." I paused and sucked in a huge breath. "Ok, then god, and he tried to make you choose between him and the Avengers and Bucky and you chose Bucky, no surprise, so that's just something else that adds to the chip on his shoulder when you walked away and left your shield. And you broke everybody out of that horrible prison, and what is being done about General Ross? That man is not a good guy. And, Jesus, Tony needs help. He wants to help so much, but he thinks he can throw resources at a problem to solve it and of course that's not always the best way to solve a problem so it frequently doesn't work." I find I'm pacing in small circles. "I mean, seriously, you can't buy your way out of everything, which he tends to forget because it works with some problems, but when it gets emotional, money is never the answer, you know? He should know it more than anybody because he always lets his emotions cloud his judgment and he trips himself up, and he has the worst collection of pyrrhic victories I've ever seen, and it all seems to just drive him onto bigger and worse fuckups, cyclically. He's turning into the most tragic hero ever."

"So I'm a tragic hero, am I? Fuck you," Stark snaps, interrupts me, stepping out of the shadows.

I scuttle over to him and give him a hug. "Yeah. You're a grown man, so act like it. Deal with your damage rather than letting it damage you more, and everybody else around you. You're a king-sized jackass, a pressure-cooker waiting to go boom, and it's really really not good. Do you really think your mom would have wanted to see you like this? Yeah, I get that she's dead and we'll never know, but surely she would have wanted you to grow into your great potential rather than squander it on resentment and bitterness." Then I remember I'm mad at him and why, and I punch him right in the breadbasket.

"What was that for?" he groans, folding around his stomach.

"It's for the extra-special video package, asshole!" I shouted, trying to shake out the tingling from the mutating cells in my hands; I was experiencing it less frequently now. Maybe Steve had a point. "You knew all that since at least that horrible lunch and you never told me! You waited until it would hurt me most to tell me all that stuff! And Steiger still works for you, you termite!" The adrenaline rush snakes away and I have to restrain my urge to kick. "And we're not friends, but I thought that at least we were developing a relationship not based on mutual loathing. But that's not it at all. You must really hate me to do something like that." I couldn't even think of a swear word vile enough, and spun around and headed for the residence block. The dogs hurried to flank me.