Time Machine
Tony feels a numb panic spreading all over, as he looks at Evil Steve’s gloating face. No more Cap? Who’s going to lead the Avengers then? Forget that, who’s going to stop the Red Skull during World War II?
The door bursts open and Tony makes an undignified noise, that is lost in the commotion, as he sees Steve throwing his shield and tackling hydra agents like he was born to do it. The knowledge that Steve could disappear at any moment spurs him into action, and he runs clumsily, still sore and in shock, to Steve.
Natasha and Clint have also joined the fray and he hears Steve order for Thor and the Hulk as back up.
“No! No Thor, no Hulk,” Tony shouts. It’s too dangerous. With one errant thunderbolt Thor could fry every piece of tech in the room and Tony didn’t even want to think about what a Hulk sized fist could do to the delicate machinery. Machinery that they will need if they are going to save Steve, and they have to save him. He’s never let them down, they can’t let him down. Besides the idea of a small naïve 1930s Steve going about his day, completely oblivious to the danger he’s in makes Tony’s stomach roll uncomfortably.
Steve cancels the call, trusting but confused. Natasha flips a man twice her size into a wall of computers.
“No! Don’t damage anything,” Tony shouts. He has no clue if those computers are important, but until he’s sure they aren’t, they can’t risk damaging anything and damning Steve.
She gives him a significantly less trusting look, “This is no time for your technophile tendencies.”
“It’s not that. They’re going after Steve. We can’t damage anything if we want to stop them.” He says.
Steve and Natasha exchange confused looks, but they are in the middle of battle and there’s no time to question Tony or for Tony to explain.
Clint shoots a man coming up from behind Tony.
“Cap, make a call.” Clint says.
Steve gives Tony one last searching look and Tony wills himself to look as sincere as possible, not that it’s hard given the panic racing through him that he’s sure is showing on his face.
“Take out hostiles, but do your best not to damage the equipment,” Steve commands, and Tony sags in relief.
Even with their self-imposed handicap the battle doesn’t last much longer. Save for the guards out front, most of the people at the base are scientists who surrender easily.
Despite his capture and brand new arrow wound, Evil Steve still looks ridiculously smug. He’s watching Cap closely, as is Tony, and Tony knows they are both just waiting for the moment Steve blinks out of reality. Erased, like he was never there to begin with. Tony wonders if he’ll remember Steve if he disappears. Then he wonders if he’ll even be born if Steve disappears. If the Axis win the war Tony can’t imagine them being lenient to anyone who worked too closely with the Allied command, like his father did, and for all his faults Tony knows his father would never side with the Axis, no matter what they offer him.
As if noticing all the attention, Steve meets their captive’s eyes.
“You’re looking rather smug for a man who just got captured.”
Evil Steve shrugs, “I doubt I’ll remain captured for long.”
Tony can see Steve mind racing, coming to the conclusion that backup may be on their way.
“He’s not talking backup Cap,” Tony says, “but call Thor and Bruce here. Tell Thor no lightning, and Bruce that he can’t hulk out. I’m going to need his genius.”
“What’s happening?” Clint asks as Steve makes the call.
“Bastard told me their plan. I’ll explain when Thor and Bruce get here.” Tony says. He’s restless, as he moves between each computer, checking it over for damage.
It doesn’t take long for either of them to arrive, both a bit confused by the Captain’s request. Thor has his hammer out just in case, as if he doesn’t believe that there won’t be a need for it.
“Captain, is the battle over?” Thor asks.
“I think so,” Steve says and turns to Tony, “is it?”
“Not quite Cap,” Tony says. He hastily lays out Hydra’s plan. By the end of it all of them are staring at Steve as if they expect him to disappear.
For his part Steve knows he should feel horrified, and a distant part of his does, but mostly he just feels numb. That part of his life is so far removed from his current life that we he looks back on it, it sometimes feels like he’s looking at someone else’s life, rather than his own. It seems strange to think that the boy who liked to sketch and kept lying on his forms because he just wanted to be a soldier, could be in danger.
Still the others are worried and they are looking at him for guidance. Steve puts on his Captain America smile, the one that is both commanding and reassuring, and meets Tony’s eyes.
“Can you figure and Bruce figure out the machinery?” Steve asks.
“Of course,” Tony says all confidence and bravado, that doesn’t meet his eyes. Steve knows that even Tony is out of his league here. Time travel is something Tony had always insisted was impossible. Steve knows because he asked him not long out after he got out of the ice. Still if anyone was capable of pulling off the scientifically impossible and figuring it out, it would be Tony.
Tony and Bruce get to work on it immediately, and the others let them get to it on their own afraid of getting in the way and slowing them down, or worse breaking something.
While they work, Steve begins laying out a battle strategy. Someone will need to stay behind to work the time machine. Bruce would be the best person for that Steve decides. Partly because if something goes wrong with the machinery Bruce will be smart enough to fix it and partly because Steve doesn’t want to risk Hulk tearing apart Brooklyn. That still leaves five of them to track down and neutralize one assassin, which are better odds that they normally have. The hardest part would be blending in and not drawing too much attention to themselves while they are in the past.
“Natasha, who is in charge of disguises and cover stories at Shield?” Steve asks, realizing that although he’s never utilized that department, surely it must exist.
“I’ll put in a call. Four authentic 1930 outfits complete with period money.” She says.
Steve nods, then stops, “Four? No, we need five.”
The others exchange looks.
“Sorry Cap, but who do you think is going on this mission?” Clint asks.
“All of us, except for Bruce. He should stay back to make sure everything works and to bring us home.” Steve says and he sees Bruce nodding approvingly at being left back.
“And you,” Clint says.
“Me? I need to go. I know the time period, customs, and geography the best. Besides it’s my life at stake.” Steve says.
“Yeah and there’s already one of you existing in the past. Who knows what will happen if we put both you in the past at the same time. We might cause a rip in the time stream continuum,” Tony says.
“You’re joking?” Steve asks, but Tony and the others look deadly serious.
“I’m pretty sure I’m not going to end the world if I meet myself in the past,” Steve says.
“Not end the world, put possibly erase yourself,” Bruce pipes up, glancing at them from over a computer screen, “there is a theory about time travel that states matter can only exist in one form, in place, at one time. If we put you and you together you would have one form existing in two places at one time which would cause a paradox. The universe would then self-correct, either by mushing you into one person or by erasing the anomaly altogether.”
“But that’s just a theory though,” Steve argues weakly.
“Sorry, but time travel is too new and untested for us to go around risking Captain America like that,” Tony says. Steve looks for any hint of amusement or irony, but all he sees is worry and a seriousness that he doesn’t often associate with the man in front of him. He looks at the others one by one, and sees that poorly disguised worry. There’s an urgency about the way they look at him, as if they are trying to memorize every last detail about him before he’s gone.
It’s a look he’s seen before. It’s the way soldiers look at each other in the calm between battles, but he has never seen it on their faces before. Despite the truly death defying battles they face, there’s never truly been the fear of death among any of them. They were all too skilled, too well trained, to invincible to be taken down. It’s a dangerous line of thinking, and now that Steve reflects on it he wants to cringe at their collective arrogance. If this is a lesson, about being too cocky about surviving, he’s glad they are learning the lesson with his life on the line as opposed to any of theirs.
They are scared for him. If only to relieve some of the fear, Steve backs down. An odd surge of emotions crash against each other in his stomach. Frustration at not being able to go with his team, disappointment and longing at missing out at chance to revisit his childhood haunts, and relief that he won’t have to confront the ghosts of his past. He can’t imagine stepping into the past and not hunting down Bucky and hugging him. Apologizing and refusing to let him go until he promises to never enlist in the first place. But he knows he can’t do that. He can’t jeopardize the mission and he can’t change the past. Bucky died 70 years ago, and he can’t change that. Perhaps it is better that he sit this mission out.
The tension in the room slowly bleeds out as the plan falls together. Natasha spends most of the time on the phone arguing with seemingly everyone in Shield about pulling together disguises. At one point Steve thinks he hears Fury on the phone, and he grimaces, not looking forward to all the paperwork this little venture is going to produce.
Meanwhile Tony and Bruce have gotten to the stage where they are discussing powering the time machine. From what Steve can gather whatever the scientists had been using was used up in the sendoff of the assassin. There wasn’t even enough to bring him back, apparently the man was to remain in the past to monitor the war without Captain America.
Thor is being surprisingly helpful. They are theorizing that Thor may be able to power the machine completely on his own, which is good because it saves time of them having to find an energy source, but is bad because that is one less person they can send into the past. Their numbers are dwindling. It is now three avengers against the assassin. Under normal circumstances those are still swell odds, but Steve’s not sure how any of them will handle the 30’s.
When Natasha gets off the phone looking satisfied and Tony and Bruce have taken a short break, Steve gathers Clint, Natasha and Tony together to go over some plans and ground rules.
“Blending in is going to be of utmost importance. You will need to avoid interacting with anybody as much as possible. We don’t want to risk changing history,” Steve says.
“Yes, yes. We know. We’re not going to Marty McFly anything,” Tony says.
Steve looks at him blankly and Tony rolls his eyes.
“Add Back to the Future to the list.”
“Now, you’re going need to keep a close eye on me,” Steve says, ignoring Tony and picking up where he left off, “but under no circumstances should you make contact with me.”
He gives them all stern looks.
Clint grins, “Come on Cap, you can trust us. We won’t let hydra harm a hair on your precious little head.”
“And?” Steve asks pointedly.
“And, we’ll do it all without you ever noticing we’re there, like three little guardian angels,” he adds innocently.
“Avenging angels,” Tony says.
“Where can we expect to find you?” Natasha asks seriously.
“In 1939? I was working down at the local grocery store, when I wasn’t working I was usually down at the library. I’ll write down my home address and a few other of my usual haunts,” Steve says thoughtfully. He grabs a pencil and notebook from a nearby table and begins writing.
“I also have a something for the three of us going back,” Tony says, “I’ve modified our comms. We can’t talk to anyone not in the 30’s, but they should be able to work well enough that we can still talk to each other at least.”
Clint and Natasha put their newly modified comms back in their ears. Steve nods approvingly.
Tony and Bruce work throughout the night. Natasha finds a couch in the backroom to curl up on and get some shuteye, while Clint makes do on an old chair. A little after 3 AM when most of the details have been hammered out Steve sends Tony and Bruce off to get some sleep as well.
“You’re about to take a leap into the past, and you’re going to work the machine that sends him there, I want you both well rested when you do it,” Steve says sternly when they try to protest. Reluctantly, they slink off to find something comfortable to sleep on.
“You should rest too,” Thor says, “I will stand guard.”
“Thanks, but I’m too wound up to sleep. I’m going to patrol the perimeter for a bit.”
Thor gives him a knowing look but allows Steve to leave. He grabs his shield on the way out, but he doubts he will need it. If backup were coming they would have arrived hours ago.
Outside is cool, the lingering chill of winter in the air now that the sun has set. Normally a night like this would remind him of chilly nights huddled away in tents, too close to the enemy to light a fire, but tonight his mind drifts to an even earlier time. Cold nights in an uninsulated apartment, wrapped in every blanket he owned, with soup cooking on the stove.
He wonders what his reaction back then would be to getting confronted by someone with a gun, who aimed to kill him. Sure he got into scraps back in the day, but those where all fists and feet. When someone was truly feeling dangerous they’d pull a blade, but Steve hadn’t ever seen a gun up close until he joined the army. It’s hard remembering a time when he was that naïve. A time when the only thing trying to kill him was his tired old heart and pitiful set of lungs.
Leaves crackle as the wind brushes past. In the distance animals are going about their business, everything is calm tonight. If he disappears right now he doubts the forest will notice. It’s a humbling thought; that for everything he has affected, there will always be some of corner of the world that will go unchanged by the existence of Steve Rogers. He wonders what will change though. Would the Axis win without him there to stop hydra? He likes to think not. He was just one of a lot of good soldiers, and they were the side with the truly noble cause. It is hard for him to imagine a world where such evil was allowed to actually win. Still, he isn’t willing to take that bet.
Frustration at not being able to lead this mission rises up again. This is too important for him to do nothing. A fox scampers out of the bushes and Steve jumps, surprised. He collects himself and reminds himself that he is supposed to patrolling, not taking a nighttime stroll. Still, his mind quickly drifts back to the mission. There is nobody he trusts in the twenty first century more than the Avengers. All of them are experts in their field, although admittedly none of their resumes include time travel. Still if anyone has to go back on his behalf, he’s glad it’s them.
Parameter patrolled and head cleared, Steve heads back inside. Like the steadfast warrior that he is, Thor is still standing guard. Steve gives him a nod and goes off to check on the others. Natasha is curled up like a cat on one end of the couch. Bruce is on the other side of the couch, slumped over the armrest. Clint is sprawled out over a chair, in a way that doesn’t look comfortable. Tony has found another chair, his chin on his chest. Steve gives his team an affectionate smile before searching out his own place to sleep.
He finds a straight back wood chair. It’s not comfortable, but he’s made due with worse; before, during, and after the war. Sleep doesn’t come easy though, and Steve knows it’s not the chairs fault. Finally as the sun begins peeking over the trees Steve gives up all pretenses of sleep and gets up.
He finds Thor exactly where he left him.
“I’ll take watch from here. Go catch a few hours of sleep,” Steve says. Thor hesitates, not liking the still exhausted look that clings to the corners of Steve’s eyes. Steve pats his arm, “come on. From what Bruce and Tony has said you have a long day coming up and you need a break.”
It’s friendly, but it’s not a request. It’s an order. Thor has been a warrior long enough to know the difference. He leaves to find a place to sleep.
The morning is as quiet as the night was. The only disruption comes around 7 AM, before the others have woken up. A small helicopter, with the shield logo on the side, lands in the clearing. Professional looking agents that Steve doesn’t recognize step out and salute him. A blonde woman steps forward confidently.
“Captain, we’re here to pick up the hostiles.”
“Good. Yeah. We have them locked in the back room,” Steve says.
She and two others follow Steve past the sleeping Avengers. He sees one of the agents, a young man, take more than a passing glance and feels a strong surge of protectiveness over her and the rest of sleeping team.
“Right this way,” Steve says firmly, a bit louder than he intended and Clint snorts before shifting into an even more uncomfortable position and drifting back to sleep. In the back of the building there is a storage room with a lock. Inside scientists and guards are tied up and neatly put in rows along wall. Steve does a quick headcount to be safe and lets out a slight breath when all are present and accounted for.
“They’re all yours,” Steve says.
“Thanks, we’ll take them in for questioning. That reminds me. There’s a package back in the copter for you from the Disguises and Cover Story department.
“Excellent, thank you.” Steve says.
He helps them load and secure the prisoners into the helicopter and the blonde agent, Agent Carter, hands him a large box.
“Not sure what you need it for, but good luck.”
“Thanks,” Steve says giving her a small smile, but doesn’t explain anymore. She doesn’t ask for any details. Steve watches the helicopter take off before he goes back inside to open the box.
He opens the box and finds two well-made suits, as a dark blue dress for Natasha. The costumes are flawless. Now his only concern is that the three of them are going to look too swanky for the part of Brooklyn they are going to be in. There are also some curlers and bobby pins for Natasha’s hair. At the bottom there is an envelope. He opens it and coins and dollar bills tumble out into his hand. Instantly he can sense something off. The money looks real but the texture is wrong. The bills are too papery and the coins too light. He looks back in the envelope and finds a note tucked inside. It reads:
Sorry. I know you requested real money from the 1930s, but fake money is the best I can do on such short notice.
Damn. Fake money isn’t going to cut it. Not that there wasn’t counterfeit changing hands back then, quite a bit actually, but by 1939 shopkeepers and even most laypeople had gotten to be experts at spotting fakes. This wouldn’t fool anyone. It’s a setback, but not an insurmountable one. Lots of people in the 1930s didn’t have money and they made due. Besides, Steve doubts it’s the first time either Clint or Natasha has been dropped off in an unfamiliar location without proper supplies. They’ll make due.
He glances at the clock. It’s just after eight. Time to rouse the troops and scrounge up something for breakfast. In what is serving as the employee lounge there is a fridge and microwave. The fridge is mostly bare, but in the freezer there are several boxes of frozen dinners. It’s not the most nutritious breakfast, and Natasha won’t be happy about microwave food, but it’s better than nothing.
Predictably, she isn’t happy when Steve sets down a plate of microwave scrambled eggs in front of her. She scrunches up her nose and covers them in an unhealthy amount of salt, but she eats them without a word. There’s no other food, and she knows it. The others seem oblivious to what they are putting in their mouths. Tony and Bruce are going over with Thor exactly how much energy he will need to generate the machine.
Clint is inspecting his suit.
“There’s not a lot of places to hide weapons,” he observes.
“Most people in the 1930s didn’t need to carry around several weapons,” Steve says.
Clint shrugs in agreement. Steve is sure he will find a way to fit every one of his weapons into the suit. He’s seen him hide an ungodly amount of weapons in shorts, a t-shirt, and flip flops before. Natasha also examines her costume with interest, as well as the bobby pins.
“You’re going to have to help me with the hair,” She tells Steve. It’s been a long time, decades, but Steve can still remember watching his mother in the mirror as she did her hair up for work every day. He nods. It’s harder than he expected. His mother always made it look so graceful, with every last stray hair curled and pinned.
Natasha winces as he pulls another clump of hair.
“Sorry,” he says. She bats his hand away and sticks a pin in to keep the curl still. Between the two of them they get a passable hair style.
“This works,” she says, nodding at herself in the mirror.
“The showgirls in the USO always wore their hair in looser styles, but that’s a bit ahead of the time for the 1930s.”
“I’ll make it work. Maybe, I’ll start a new trend,” Natasha says.
Steve opens his mouth to remind her not to do anything to change time, but Natasha cuts him off.
“Kidding Rogers. I don’t think I’m going to ruin the future because my hair isn’t perfectly curled.”
Steve gives her a sheepish smile. Then he remembers the money situation and hands her the note. A slight frown appears on her face as she reads it over.
“You’re the expert, are these good enough to fool anyone?” She asks.
“No, everyone got really good about inspecting money for fakes during the 30’s.” Steve says.
“I’ll have a long talk with the head of the department when we get back. For now though, we’ll manage,” Natasha says.
“Good. Tony, go change into your suit. Bruce, do you have an estimate for how much longer until we can start it up?” Steve asks.
“Give me a half hour and it will be good to go,” Bruce says before turning back to Thor, “now remember, don’t give it too much power or you’ll fry it and we won’t be able to get them back.”
A nervous energy permeates the base as it gets closer to hour zero. Natasha sits at the table, perfectly composed and still, like a statue. Clint and Tony pull and tug at their suits, which then causes Steve to have to straighten their ties out.
“You can’t look sloppy,” he scolds distractedly.
“Of course not. We’re such refined individuals,” Clint says.
“One of us is at least,” Tony smirks.
“You’re right, Nat is very refined,” Clint responds. Tony elbows him.
Only Bruce works with the air of calmness about him, as if he isn’t about to send his friends hurtling through space and time with one of the most important missions of their lives.
“We’re ready,” Bruce says finally.
Natasha, Clint, and Tony march inside. It’s a tight fit with the three of them, but they manage. Steve racks his brain for any more tidbits of advice to give them.
“Don’t refer to World War I as World War I, call it The Great War if it comes up. Try not to talk politics with anyone, um…”
“Steve, we aren’t going to talk to anyone. We’re going to find the hydra agent and we’ll be back home before you know it. And if you’re good and don’t give yourself an aneurysm from stress maybe we’ll even bring you home a souvenir.” Tony says. Steve rolls his eyes, but feels himself relax in the presence of Tony’s complete confidence.
“I’ve calculated it that you should arrive less than an hour after the assassin.” Bruce tells them, “Tony and I also found these.”
He holds up what looks like a walkie-talkie.
“I believe we should be able to communicate with these across time. This is how you’ll let us know you completed your mission so we can bring you back.”
He hands the walkie-talkie to Tony.
“Good luck,” Bruce says as the doors close. Thor raises his hammer. Electricity crackles as lightening shoots from the sky. With expert precision Thor aims it where Bruce directs him too. Machines whirl and buzz. A white light flashes.