Chapter 73
Avengers Tower
September 2011
Tony hid his hands behind his back so his white-knuckled grip on his StarkPhone wouldn’t give away his tension. He had a sneaking suspicion that Fury was about to waltz in here and demand the scepter back, and he was not happy about it. So far, he’d discovered two new elements and found trace evidence of three more, Bruce was finding some really interesting things from its effects on neural tissue, and Jane was doing something that Tony did not fully understand and hadn’t had the time to research, but she said it could be groundbreaking. There was no way Fury was just going to demand it back. SHIELD had no jurisdiction.
“Director Fury is on final approach,” JARVIS warned.
“You done copying those files?”
“Three mintes twenty-one seconds remaining.”
“Gah,” Tony muttered. “What did I install those superprocessors for then?”
“Allowing me to run this tower on an automated system,” JARVIS said.
Tony grinned. “Right.”
The sound of the chopper separated from the constant background hum of the city, and Tony saw it coming in for landing on his pad. This one was bigger, a Chinook, and armored, with several gun turrets.
“JARVIS, get the Mark 7 on standby,” he said.
Clint shot him a look and then glanced at the pantry, where Tony knew he and Natasha had a weapons cache.
Fury was the first one out of the helicopter. He was followed by Rumlow and an entire STRIKE team.
“Fuck,” Darcy hissed.
Clint stood instantly.
“No,” Darcy said. “Clint, stop–they’ll see if you go for weapons now, don’t let this escalate–”
“Fine,” Clint said, practically vibrating with tension. Tony read the hatred on his face and wondered what exactly Rumlow had done to earn it. Or maybe it was directed at Fury. Hard to tell these days.
The doors hissed open. Fury marched in and his goons followed, guns disengaged and pointing at the floor but still threatening. Tony didn’t like being threatened in general and especially not in his own home. His place of safety. He narrowed his eyes, squared his shoulders, and turned up the charisma. He knew exactly how to make his presence fill up a room.
“Pretty sure I never gave you permission to march a STRIKE team in my tower,” he snapped.
Fury glared back. “You have no jurisdiction to say otherwise, Mr. Stark. You’re skating on thin ice here.”
“Oh, yes I do,” Tony fired back. “We’ve cooperated, shared our results, done as you asked, and yet you still feel the need to negotiate with guns at hand. Something tells me you don’t trust us.”
“Maybe that’s because one of you just broke out of the Triskelion and is wanted for treason,” Fury snarled.
“Rogers’ choices are his own,” Tony said. “Is anyone in this room wanted for treason with him? Aiding and abetting? Is there a stronger phrase specifically for helping traitors? Seems like there should be.”
“No,” Fury said stiffly. “As far as we can tell, you’re not involved.”
“Then get them out of my house,” Tony said. “Or I am done working with you.”
Darcy’s face was inscrutable, her hazel eyes flicking over the faces of everyone in the room, measuring, calculating. Tony hoped Fury would underestimate her as Tony himself once had. That would be entertaining.
“Fine,” Fury said at last. “Rumlow, back to the chopper.”
“Yes, sir,” Rumlow barked, and signalled his team. They trooped back out of the penthouse and piled back into the chopper while Tony savored his satisfaction. Score one, the Avengers.
“I am curious why you’re here,” Bruce said mildly. “Soldiers aside. I was under the impression that the situation in DC was taking most of your time.”
“It was,” Fury said tersely. “I’m here on another matter. It’s time you returned the scepter to SHIELD.”
Darcy drew breath to speak, but Tony talked over her. “Nope.” He wasn’t going to let this happen.
“I’m afraid that you don’t have a choice, Mr. Stark,” Fury said. “You’ll return the scepter to SHIELD, or I will be authorized to order Rumlow to retrieve it, and use maximum force to do so. You and everyone else who gets in the way will be charged with failure to cooperate with a federal agency, theft of government property, and obstruction of justice. Possibly treason, depending on the mood of the judge.”
“You have no jurisdiction,” Tony said.
“Actually, he does,” Darcy said, standing and walking toward them. Something in her body language said gearing up for a fight. “US government sends in the SHIELD goons to clean up weird messes like New York, and SHIELD’s responsible for handling all the weird shit like Chitauri bodies and scepters belonging to megalomaniacs from outer space. It’s technically only here on loan.”
“Thank you, Miss Lewis,” Fury bit out, and turned back to glare at Tony. “So. What’ll it be, Mr. Stark?”
“I’m not letting you take that scepter,” Tony said, stepping forward.
Darcy got in his way. “What he means to say is that the lab equipment is very sensitive and Dr. Banner will go right now to retrieve the scepter so that nothing gets damaged. Bruce?”
She looked to Bruce, and for a long second Tony hoped his fellow scientist would back him up, but then Bruce sighed and headed for the elevator.
Tony’s fists clenched.
Darcy’s hand on his bicep tightened until her grip was painful. “Do not fight this,” she hissed in his ear.
The list of potential charges rang in Tony’s ears, and he glowered at Fury, who glared right back. But he didn’t move, not when Bruce came back in with the scepter in a long case for transport, not when Fury walked out the door with the damn thing, and not when the chopper took off.
Only when it was out of sight did he turn on Darcy. “What’d you do that for?” he snapped. “You let him take it–”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice!” she shouted right back.
Tony backed up a step. She was way angrier than he’d expected.
“You went in there guns blazing and stonewalled him at the first volley,” she continued, poking him in the chest to make her point. Eyes blazing, shoulders squared, unfazed by the fact that she had to tip her head back to meet Tony’s eyes. “What did you think he was gonna do, apologize and take off? You give Fury a wall and his first instinct is to smash it, no matter that it might be easier to go over or around. I could’ve at least tried to talk him out of it, but the second you talked over me and flat-out refused, there was no way in hell he was walking out without that damn scepter. I had to let him have it or we’d all be on the floor in handcuffs right now!”
Ringing silence followed her words.
Tony looked away. He’d fucked up. Let them all down.
Again.
“I’m sorry,” he gritted out.
Clint sat straight upright. “Do my ears deceive me, or did Tony Stark just apologize for something?”
“Don’t panic, I regret it already,” Tony growled. He closed his eyes and desperately tried to control himself. He couldn’t let himself be weak like this in front of people who relied on him, not after he’d let them down. Guilt and shame snarled into a toxic sludge and made him nauseous.
“Tony.”
He looked up.
Most of the anger had drained out of Darcy’s face. “Undeserved guilt is a symptom of PTSD,” she said bluntly. “Okay, you screwed up. We still have data to work with and it’s not the end of the world. Everyone in here has messed up at some point. I lost an entire set of readings from some anomaly in California two years ago. Jane forgave me. We don’t hate you. Just… work with me more in the future.”
Tony nodded. Breathed. Coped the only way he knew, by pushing everything aside and donning the Obnoxious Playboy facade he’d carefully cultivated for years.
“This day has just gone all to shit,” he said. “Anybody want a drink?”
Clint dropped his head into his hands. "Is anyone on this team not dysfunctional?"
"I don't know what would ever have made you think otherwise," Darcy said, throwing herself onto the sofa.
Tony reached for a drink and tried not to think about how much he loved these people. What he'd do to not let them down again.