Fic: The Altar of Human Sacrifice Chap. 5, PG-13

[tresmaxwell.livejournal.com]

Universe: Movie
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence
Beta: None
Summary: Annika finds solace in books, but the enemy follows her where she thinks she's safe.
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Tony, pre-established
Word Count: About 6,100

Chapter Four - LINK

Chapter Five - Paperback Consolation

A/N: I'm sorry, sorry, sorry this took so long. I've been having some issues working late since I'm developing migraines from lack of sleep. It's cut my productivity in half because I ALWAYS work on my stories after midnight. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long, but I don't want to make any promises when I have so little time to write.

For those of you wondering about the mix of X-Men characters, think of them as an eclectic collection from both movieverse and comic. I want to base them mostly out of the movieverse, but there were a few characters from the comic that I wanted (and needed) to use. So, think movie-version with extra characters thrown in.

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Annika liked being surrounded by books. It was one of her favorite things, to sit with thick tomes stacked around her, the knowledge within them in reaching distance. In the facility, books were some of the only entities she would encounter in the day. They spoke to her in the tiny room, telling her secrets and stories. They whispered of a life beyond the four walls that were her world, of green grass and tall trees and a sky so blue she could get lost in it.

Before Papa took her to Central Park for the first time, she'd never touched grass. The expanse of the Great Lawn was a wonder. She was tentative when she set foot on it, afraid the great, green ocean would swallow her, but within minutes, she was running barefoot and squealing with delight. Daylight was much better than the sickly, yellow glow of the overhead fluorescents at the facility. She tried to be good for her new parents so she would never, never have to go back there. She logically knew that her Daddy and Papa would keep her no matter what, but it was still a fear that crouched in the dark corners of her mind.

Curled up on a big chair in the Strand Bookstore with a tower of books to her right and her Papa's shield propped on the cushion beside her, she should've been content. The book in her lap felt like it was the only thing holding her down. She couldn't focus. It wasn't that the topic was boring to her, she'd been meaning to learn network analysis for some time, it was her mind that was elsewhere.

Mr. Hogan stood patiently beside her, his hands folded in front of him. It was the same stance he assumed while he waited by Tony's car. Normally, Annika liked talking to Happy. He was funny and nice and always had some kind of treat to give her for the car ride. Sometimes, it was a sheet of stickers or a coloring page, other times it was a sucker or piece of candy. They had to be careful if it was something sweet, because Daddy didn't like for her to have a lot of sugar. It didn't matter to Annika what it was, because everything was new to her.

While she was thinking about her fathers and hoping they would come get her soon, Annika stayed quiet. Not even Happy could make her smile, and that was unheard of. The lines of text in the networking book danced, ungraspable. The fourth time she read the same quote about Ethernet adapters, she sighed and closed the heavy tome.

She wished the Strand had a television so she could see what was happening to Steve and Tony. If Happy had a smart phone, she could use that, but the driver had a cell with a small screen and actual buttons. Besides Papa, Annika didn't know anyone else who had a phone with buttons. Though, she couldn't make a widespread conclusion without a complete set of data, after all she'd never seen Uncle Thor's cellular.

On the first floor, a commotion flared. Mr. Hogan straightened up and tried to peer over the railing of the stairs to see the person the employee was arguing with. An answering bellow made him wipe some of the sweat off his forehead, "I will not be denied entrance to your establishment, as I have a need to locate an individual inside."

"They're costumes," another man said apologetically, Mr. Barton, Annika thought. "His hammer is resin, don't worry about it."

Annika jumped up, her book sliding off her lap and onto the floor. She tripped over it in her hurry to get to the familiar voices. Knowing she was being naïve, Annika looked for the red metal suit and the bright, patriotic uniform as she raced down the staircase. Thor and Hawkeye were the only ones in the store. Disappointment flooded her round features, but Annika managed to hold back the threatening tears.

The gigantic blond pushed past the employee, his crimson cape flapping behind him as he quickly traversed the aisle. The old hardwood flooring creaked under his heavy steps. Annika lifted her arms in a silent plea and he gathered her into a comforting hold. "Do not weep, little one," Thor crooned, using a hand big enough to engulf her entire skull to stroke her hair. "All will be well soon."

Happy joined them, the forgotten shield looking very out of place on his forearm, "Have you heard anything? Are they okay?"

"We have only the coded instructions the Captain managed to divulge. He said we were to find you, that Annika was under threat."

Near the door, Clint yelled, "I think we should go."

"Agreed," Thor returned, brushing his fingers over Annika's back.

She gripped the cape at his shoulder as they moved toward the door. The employee glared at them, but kept his mouth shut. Annika didn't understand why he was so angry. Even with weapons, Uncle Thor and Clint would never hurt anyone innocent. They were the good guys. Other patrons of the store were staring openly at them over tables of best-sellers and new-releases. One boy jumped up and down and shouted, "Look, Dad, the Avengers!" His dad gaped.

Clint fell into the back of the line as they left, his head and body rotating to watch for any threats. Clint was always looking for threats. Annika knew if there was somewhere high he could perch, he would be there. Out on the sidewalk, they met up with Natasha. The usual shiver raced up Annika's spine when she saw the woman. The things her mother had screamed in Russia still terrified her, that the redhead was a murderer.

Annika knew more about blood and death than a child had any right to. There was a scientist at the facility that would take her out of her cell sometimes and show her what her mother's work did to lab animals. He made her watch them thrash, rabbits and rats and, later, monkeys. The biological agent took them apart from the inside, made their eyes bulge with excess blood until they popped like grapes.

Later, Annika learned that it worked a lot like Ebola, but with a higher death rate. She could understand the science, but she couldn't understand why they were making her mother create such a horrible thing. What Ms. Romanov had done was different, but parallel. Blood could stain someone's hands from a distance just as easily as it could up close.

"Banner says Rogers and Stark are clear, but Stark is wounded. Another group called the X-Men came in to assist," Natasha explained and fell into step beside them.

Annika's eyes darted to Natasha as she heard her Daddy was hurt. She wanted to ask for details, but she couldn't force the words out of her mouth. It seemed like even they were afraid of the redhead. They stayed on her tongue, so she closed her mouth and listened.

Thor frowned, "Are these axed men allies? And, if they have been axed, why have they not died from such grievous injuries? Unless they carry axes, in which case, they meet my approval."

"Not Ax Men, X-Men," Clint clarified, his eyes roaming over the busy street. "They're mutants that fight as a unit, like us. Fury meets with their leader from time to time, trying to recruit new agents."

The adults kept talking, but Annika sat up straight in Thor's arms, her skin prickling. There was something coming. The energy it exuded crackled along Annika's nerve-endings, the burning trace similar to that of the man who controlled metal, but not the same. It was more unpredictable. As it approached, she managed to separate it into three distinct sources.

"Uncle Thor..." she said, her voice quietly fearful.

His arm tightened around her as his gaze dropped to her worried face, but before he could react, one of the three mutants approached like a bullet out of a gun. Annika felt the hand close over the back of her jacket. The tug against her shoulders hurt, but Thor's hold was tight and the soft, pink cotton gave way before she was yanked out of his grip. No one could blink in the time it took the mutant to run by. He was gone before the tatters of her sweater fell to the ground. His passing ruffled Thor's long hair.

Clint fitted an arrow and aimed in the direction he'd gone, scaring a pair of civilians that were walking several yards behind them.

"What was that?" Happy shouted, raising the shield in front of his chest.

Natasha's hands went to her guns, but she didn't draw them. She narrowed her eyes, "Quicksilver. If he's here, his sister, Scarlet Witch, will be too."

Annika noticed them making a defensive line around her. Thor backed to the gray slate building behind him, hoisting his enchanted hammer in a warning gesture. The two agents flanked him as people seemed to disappear into every shop and deli on the row, getting out of their way. Drumming his fingers on the shield nervously, Happy stayed out in the open.

"You should go back inside," Natasha told the driver, not taking her eyes off the right side of the street.

He immediately started moving, "Yeah, okay. I think there's a coffee shop down the street, I'm going to get some."

"Iced, no sugar," Clint said, aiming his arrow as two figures appeared at the end of the block.

Annika wondered where the third was. She'd felt three distinct energies, though these were the ones that had the same pattern as the man who controlled her Daddy's suit. The pair stood close, the silver-haired man several inches taller than the woman. The man scowled at them, the remnants of Annika's jacket in hand, but the woman's face was serene. It was her power that Annika couldn't pin down.

Natasha drew both guns, "I want mine black, Harold."

Happy hesitated by a pair of benches, the unwashed occupant of the closer bench looking up at the shield in his hands. The vagrant's little dog barked wildly in Happy's direction. It snapped at the cuff of his pants, the short leash tethering him to the vagabond popped each time he hit the end of it.

"I thought you'd be taller," the homeless man mentioned, scratching at his scraggly, yellow beard.

Ignoring him, Happy's eyes darted between Annika and the two mutants in the street, "Should I take her?"

Annika whimpered and gripped Uncle Thor's armor at the shoulder, her soft skin catching on the plate metal covering his arms. The cuts were too small to garner any attention. The driver was kind, but the mutants would take him apart to get to her. Annika knew they were both safer if she stayed with the demi-god.

"Go," Natasha pressed, finally spurring Happy into motion.

Once he was gone, the street was nearly deserted. The people of New York peered warily from storefronts at the strangely dressed mutants and heroes. Annika knew the city suffered attacks more often than most, though doing the statistics didn't enlighten her as to why. It was as if the high-density population had developed its own gravity that drew in outside threats. She wondered if this was why her fathers chose to live in this city.

The woman in red approached them, her costume catching the sun and keeping it hostage in liquid lines on her figure. Her brother followed a step behind her. He tossed the fabric from Annika's sweater and let it somersault to the street. The pink scrap was like a lonely piece of confetti after a parade.

"You will give us the girl," Scarlet Witch said as her fingertips sparked with energy.

Thor drew Annika closer and raised his voice, "There is no universe in which your statement would ring true. We shall defend her and it is you who will return with no prize."

Fear rose like bile in the back of Annika's throat. Why did these people want to take her away? She didn't think she'd done anything wrong. No one acted like she'd done something bad, but she babbled uncontrollably, "I'm sorry about Daddy's TV and the lights and all those times I made the kitchen stuff act funny around Papa! Don't let them take me, Uncle Thor! I'm sorry!"

"No one will make off with you this day, little one," Thor responded and raised his hammer. The vein at his forehead stood out as he challenged the mutants, "If you believe yourselves capable, then why dally? Come at us!"

"I'd rather we didn't provoke them," Clint said. "I'm not overly fond of being on ground level."

The silver-haired man broke away from his sister, keeping his eyes on Annika as he circled around them. Clint shifted his arrow to follow Quicksilver's motion while Natasha kept her aim on the sister. The air was so quiet and tight that Annika could hear the hum of electricity from the neon sign across the street.

Scarlet Witch flicked her hand out to the side, the crackles of power swirling around her fingers and vanishing. Annika felt it hit the car. At the next stoplight, an engine revved, the tires squealing against the pavement as the brakes gave out. It careened down the road, the driver's eyes nearly white with terror.

Annika frowned in concentration. Scarlet Witch's power was a spark. It was gone almost as soon as it touched the car, but it set into motion something much bigger than a spark could ever be. As the sedan bounced up onto the curb, the Avengers scattered. Clint rolled forward, launching a pair of arrows into the front tires at the lowest point in his tumble. The explosive burst of air sent bits of rubber flying. Though the tires were flat, it didn't slow the vehicle's momentum. Thor backed away when the car turned to follow him, his hammer held at the ready.

"Stop!" Annika screamed, reminding each mechanical part how to do its job. The brakes clamped down and the anti-lock systems went into effect. When the supply of gas cut off at the tank, the sedan's nose dipped and it finally slowed to a stop near Thor's shins. The engine ticked as it cooled.

They all looked at her, villains and heroes alike. Clint had another arrow notched, aiming at Quicksilver though his face was turned away. Natasha only glanced at her, returning her attention to Scarlet Witch as the woman whispered, "She's one of us."

"Wait a minute, Stark's kid is a mutant?" Clint asked, bewildered.

Unaffected by the news, Thor reminded them, "It matters not. We will defend her the same."

The street exploded in a flurry of activity that made Annika cringe. Natasha's pistols fired, pumping off rapid shots that ricocheted on Scarlet Witch's energy field. Bullets whistled in every direction. They struck car windows and buildings and lampposts. Scarlet Witch sent a spark in Natasha's direction and the guns clicked.

"I'm jammed," the redhead shouted and dropped the pistols.

Quicksilver was too fast to hit. He dodged Clint's arrows as if they were standing still, a satisfied smirk on his face. The archer glanced back at Thor, his fingers twitching on his bow. On his back, the mechanics in his quiver whirred softly and he snatched another arrow. Thor saw the tip and nodded. As Clint shot the arrow into the door of a car behind Quicksilver, Thor raised his hammer and called lightning from the sky. It struck the ground in a chain, leaving behind smoking craters.

Quicksilver danced back from the bolts, his smirk fading. Lightning was much faster than bullets and arrows, so he had a hard time staying ahead of it. He darted toward the car as a bolt struck dangerously close to his feet, and the tip of Clint's arrow exploded.

Annika blinked at the burst of fire and Quicksilver was gone. At their right, Natasha charged the other woman, her wrist tasers flashing and crackling through the air. Scarlet Witch ducked and weaved to avoid her attacks.

The spark glowed blue on her hands, jumping to Natasha's tasers. The weaponry pulsed as the voltage soared, giving a loud pop when the circuits overloaded. Natasha stumbled back and ripped at the searing gauntlets, throwing one down and then the other. The smell of burned flesh filled the air. Blackened fabric clung to Natasha's skin even after the tasers were gone. No emotion crossed the spy's face, no surprise or hurt. It made Annika uneasy, but she had very little time to think on it.

Quicksilver cut his pace enough to become visible, his arms a blur as he punched Clint's jaw and stomach. He kicked the archer's feet out from under him, but Clint landed on his hands and rolled his body through the air so he vaulted upright. Blocking two of Quicksilver's rapid blows with his wrist brace, Clint tossed his bow onto his back and switched to a knife he kept in his boot. The shiny length of metal flashed through the air without cutting anything.

Thor set Annika down with a curt, "Remain here," before he went to help. He threw the hammer, narrowly missing Mr. Barton, but catching Quicksilver's shoulder. Though the blow was glancing, the mutant spun to the ground.

Annika trembled in place, her big, green eyes trapped on the struggle. One sleeve of her torn jacket slipped down her arm and she numbly pushed it back into place. It fell again, bunching at her wrist.

A presence made her look up. Across the street, the red monster from her closet smiled at her. His teeth were sharp and white. Fear crashed through her and she ran. Braids streaming behind her like banners, Annika ran as fast and as hard as she could. Her saddle shoes slapped the concrete, the sound overtaking Thor calling her name.

Annika banged both hands against the glass door of the bookstore. She shoved her way inside, dodging around the low tables full of best-sellers and the clusters of terrified customers that were staring out the windows. She ducked a portly woman that reached for her, ignoring the concerned, "Oh sweetie, where are your parents?" Only when the shelves rose up around her, full of books and silence, did she slow down.

Maneuvering the maze of the Strand, Annika found her favorite section near the back of the first floor. Science and Mathematics was made up of thick tomes and an uninspiring color palate of spines. She sat on the floor in front of a shelf labeled 'Engineering' and drew her knees to her chest, whimpering softly into her folded arms. The books stared down at her solemnly. This particular section had no advice on fear; it only offered equations and logic.

The steady tap of dress shoes on wood approached her hiding place. Annika tightened her grip on her knees, balling up. She knew it wouldn't hide her, but she couldn't seem to do anything else. Muffled by the wall of paper, the footsteps moved through the next aisle. They went by her, pausing and scraping as the man making the noise turned.

"Annika? Baby? Where are you?"

Annika jolted at her Daddy's voice. Scrambling, she half-crawled, half-stumbled toward the comforting sound. "I'm here!" she cried and finally got to her feet. Her voice caught on the words, her throat tightening with relieved tears. "I'm here, Daddy!"

She barreled around the corner to find Tony smiling, holding his arms out for her. Built in caution screamed. Coming to a clumsy stop, Annika analyzed him with her mind firing on all cylinders. Something was wrong.

"I'm so glad you're okay," the Tony that didn't feel like Tony crooned at her. "Let's go home, baby."

When he took a step forward, Annika mirrored the movement in the other direction. She didn't know what was wrong. He looked like her adoptive father in every way. His brow tilted down with the same concern, his lips quirked to the side with the same silent question. His clothes were right, red, collared shirt under a dark suit-jacket with no tie, something he would wear if they were going out for a nice dinner. The wedding band with Papa's uniform colors glinted on his left hand and he had his customary Bluetooth hooked on one ear.

It was too right.

There were no injuries from his fight, no bruises or wounds. When her fathers left in uniform, they always came back with damage. Sometimes there were just scratches and sometimes there were lesions bad enough for stitches, but they never came back unscathed. Fueled by reason, her caution won out. Annika backed into a shelf as she tried to put more distance between them. The band of wood dug into her spine and her shoulders bumped into the books.

The imposter-Tony frowned, "Annika, honey, are you alright?"

"You're not Daddy," she proclaimed, more convinced with each second that passed. Saying it aloud just confirmed it in her mind.

The imposter's concern faded, his face smoothing out and his eyes narrowing. Annika shivered at the sudden change. Her deliberate steps backward picked up speed as she slid away from the shelf. She ran into a table full of geology books, jarring a text on sedimentary rocks off its stand. It banged onto the hardwood floor, the sound like a gunshot.

"Come here, you little brat," the person wearing her father's guise growled and lunged for her.

"Hey!"

Annika and the imposter turned at the sound to find Happy. He only had one cup of coffee, an empty drink caddy, and dark stains on his shirt. A drop of sweat trekked down his forehead, following the curve of his eyebrow. The imposter straightened and flipped on the Tony Expression, but Annika stayed where she was. She was too afraid to run to Happy, afraid he'd get killed. Death was inevitable, but she didn't want to be the one who caused it. Ever.

"Good, you've got Steve's shield. I need you to go get the car, we're going home," fake Tony ordered.

Happy took the lid off the coffee, "I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Stark."

"Why can't y-"

He threw the full container of scalding liquid at the mutant. It splashed over the imposter's face and chest, hitting only one side as he tried to turn away. Tony's image flared with layers of blue skin and the imposter screamed. Slender hands went to the burned face as the features slimmed. Red overtook her Daddy's dark hair from the roots, the slight wave falling flat and smoothing out. The clothing folded back on itself until all that was left was blue, scaly skin.

Happy grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away from the shape-changer. Hoisting her into his arms, he fled the building. Annika held on tightly, not bothering to reprimand the driver for the bad words he muttered between breaths. They took a left out the door, away from the fighting, going past dozens of curious eyes in the coffee shop. The car was parked two blocks south. Happy ran the entire way.

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Tony woke with a start and groaned at the shot of pain that ripped through his shoulder. Going still, he opened his eyes to inspect his surroundings. The last thing written to short-term memory was Steve struggling to get him out of his damaged armor and a guy with a pair of idiotic sunglasses leaning down to help. There were flashes after that, Steve carrying him, Banner showing up, but nothing particularly enlightening.

When his gaze caught the SHIELD logo on the door, he closed his eyes again. It had to be the helicarrier. They'd all seen the inside of the onboard hospital wing too many times. With the exception of Banner, since the wounds he sustained as the Hulk never seemed to follow him through the change.

Tony remembered the sterile environment well enough, he didn't need to examine it any further. Each room was outfitted the same way. There was a narrow bed on the wall facing the door, a stand of hi-tech monitors built into the gray steel along with a variety of IV hooks. An incredibly uncomfortable chair with no cushion flanked the bed, a place Steve had slept more than once. It was currently unoccupied, but Tony knew his husband wouldn't be far. His daughter, on the other hand, he wasn't sure. There was no way he could rest until he found out where she was and if she was safe.

Feeling his years, Tony sat up very slowly. He ached everywhere. An ice bath was in order, and maybe a tall glass of scotch. He needed to know the extent of the damage and he wasn't inclined to wait for one of Fury's pet doctors to show up. That would take so much longer and he'd have to listen to a million suggestions and warnings before they'd let him leave. His patience wouldn't stretch that far.

Beneath the ugly hospital gown he detested, Tony found purple-black bruising at his joints and a thick bandage of gauze wrapped around his shoulder. He had a good idea of what was underneath, considering he'd blown his guided micro-missiles inside his armor. The skin was undoubtedly shredded, possibly down to the muscle. He could still lift his arm, even if it hurt fiercely, so the wound didn't go all the way to the bone. The interior layer of the MARK had provided some protection, like he hoped it would.

A pair of black electrodes stuck to the skin on either side of his arc. Tony left them in place as long as he could. The moment they were gone, his EKG would flat line and every doctor and nurse in the facility would come running. Since the wires ran under his gown, he didn't have to work around them to strip out of the thin material. He lifted it over his head, hissing as he pushed it over the bad shoulder.

His clothes were in a bag beneath the bed, as they always were. The shirt was bloody and cut cleanly from hem to shoulder, he assumed by a pair of medical sheers when they were working on him. Shaking the jeans out of the blue plastic, Tony slipped them on without bothering with his underwear. His left hand wasn't as dexterous as his right, so he fumbled with the zipper. Cursing his ineptitude, Tony finally got the button pushed through the hole and the zipper yanked into place. He hoped there wasn't any permanent damage to his arm, but he didn't want to think about that.

Since he was too sore to lean down and tie his shoes, Tony went barefoot. The jeans would have to be enough. Tony yanked the wires off his chest and checked the lid of the reactor on instinct. He flattened his palm over the smooth polycarbonate, his thumb circling the metal casing. It was outdated again.

A red light flashed above the bed as all of the lines on the monitor went flat. Tony pushed through the door a few steps ahead of the doctors rushing down the hall. He waved off their "Mr. Stark, you should be resting-" and walked past them.

"Where's my daughter?" he asked sharply and stalked through the tiny hospital.

He passed the nurse's station with its curved desk and poorly hidden television. Though he only caught a glimpse of the screen, Tony recognized the cheesy setup of a daytime soap. The rest of the wing was empty, which Tony was relieved to see. Steve recovered quickly, but he half expected the soldier to be in one of the rooms, hooked up to a dozen IVs. He'd lost a lot of blood to Raisa.

The thought made Tony's insides roil. Scorn created enough serum for several dozen mini-Hulks with just a few vials from the tower's lab. With as much as she'd taken, she could make an army. However, she'd used Banner's blood too and getting that would be no easy task. If they were lucky, that would slow her down. Tony didn't make crap bets, they were never lucky when it came to the villains they faced. He knew they needed to be prepared for a full-scale attack and soon.

The other doctors fell behind, but one with tortoise shell glasses trotted to keep up with his rapid stride, "She's with your husband. Please, Mr. Stark, we need you to return to your room and-"

"Wasted effort. You might as well go back to your soap opera," Tony stated with a dismissive hand gesture. "Could be a spoiler, but she's cheating on Raul."

"Mr. Stark, really. You're not ready for-"

"And I'm pretty sure Fabio is going to wake up from his coma soon, but he won't remember who he is and Jenna will be crushed. She's very emotional, she's pregnant with his baby," he said as he passed through the double doors etched with the SHIELD eagle.

Beyond the hospital wing, no one seemed to give a rat's ass that he was out of bed. Fury's agents were used to getting knocked around and getting right back up, so it didn't faze them that he was bruised and bandaged. Tony was thankful for the reprieve, but he knew it would start again when he found Steve. His husband would say something at least once, but the soldier knew him too well to be a broken record on the subject. Nothing got on Tony's nerves faster than someone repeated the same suggestion over and over. If he said 'no' the first time, then he meant it.

Figuring everyone would be on the bridge at Fury's personal conference table, Tony ducked through a few bulkheads and headed upstairs. His knees complained on the steps, but he only had to go up one floor. As he approached the front of the helicarrier, Annika spotted him through the glass doors. Tony saw her squeal, saw Steve and the others look up at the cry, but couldn't hear it until she pushed open the soundproof doors.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed and careened into his legs, hugging one fiercely.

Tony nearly fell over. Wincing, he said, "Gentle sweetheart, gentle. Daddy's not in great shape," and scooped her up with his good arm. Twinges of pain radiated from his elbow and wrist, but not enough to put her down.

Annika buried her face in his neck for a moment, talking rapidly about how the mutants came and how scared she was and how the one that looked like him came after her. It was hard to follow with her accent surfacing at odd points in the story, but the entire thing made Tony clutch her more tightly. He wasn't there and he should've been. When she got down to Happy taking on Mystique and running Annika to the car, Tony was thinking he needed to give the man a gigantic bonus.

"What happened after that? Did they beat the other mutants?"

Annika shook her head. "The really, really fast one ran away and the lady who made things malfunction got taken by the scary guy from my closet. And then we came here. And they gave Papa epupneprun and now he can't sit still. They couldn't give him bag blood because he's so different," as she explained, she continued to hug tightly on his neck.

On the other side of the door, Steve had gotten to his feet. He looked a little pale, but no worse for wear, though Tony could see the nervous jitter in his big frame. The blond had his weight on one foot, the other foot tapping as if it was driven by the fastest song in the world. Their eyes met through the etched glass. Steve made an aborted attempt to come out to meet him, but stopped before he took a step. There was definitely a meeting going on.

"Epinephrine," Tony corrected Annika. "They used epinephrine because it increases the heart's output and narrows the blood vessels so the tissues get more oxygen."

Twisting her mouth to the side, Annika furrowed her brow and tested out the word, "Epine- epineprin"

"Ep-i-neph-rine."

"Daddy, that's a hard word. Can't I just say adrenaline?"

"No, because it's synthetic adrenaline and you remember all this from our biology lesson a few weeks ago," Tony reminded her. Balancing Annika on his hip, Tony entered the upper-level of the bridge with as much swagger and arrogance as he usually did, "So, what did I miss? Besides Fury's informational blackout that nearly got me and Cap killed."

"We did not anticipate that Magneto would target you," Fury snapped from his command center near the head of the table. He had his hands folded behind him, his good eye tracking some information across the screen at his left.

Outside the massive windows, Tony could see the curved smear of land that had to be the east coast. They were far enough out to sea for the helicarrier's intelligent camo-plating to hide them, but, by Tony's estimation, they were hovering at around forty-thousand feet. At that height, even visible, they'd be a spec to any onlooker.

Fury touched the red screen and flicked the message off to the side before he turned his full attention to Tony, "It was a poor decision to leave you at a tactical disadvantage."

"Is there an apology in there, Fury? I thought I heard it, but it was too well hidden."

The director's eye narrowed, "Why don't you take a seat?"

There were more people surrounding the conference table than usual. Tony's teammates were in their chairs, except for Steve who came over to check on him and murmur, "You should be resting."

Tony could say the same about him. Judging by the size and shape of the vials Raisa filled, Tony extruded that Steve lost more blood than an average human could live without by almost three percent. He should've been unconscious at least, but not Steve Rogers, no. Dressed in the reserve uniform he kept with SHIELD, Steve looked as though he could take on anyone who crossed him.

Getting close, Tony's lips brushed against the shell of his husband's ear as he said, "I'm fine. I need to be here."

Steve nodded and ushered him to his vacated chair. The seat was still warm.

Tony scanned the other occupants of the room as he situated Annika in his lap. Their codenames and powers were familiar to him from Fury's potential agent list. While he'd only gone through a fraction of the Brotherhood files, Tony had hacked into the X-Men files months ago. Sitting between Natasha and Thor was a young woman with a thick streak of white in her hair. Rogue, he thought her name was. Tony took note not to touch her skin.

Behind her was a kid with icy-blue eyes. His hand rested possessively on the back of Rogue's chair. It was hard to identify him when he wasn't covered in ice, but Tony was almost certain he was Iceman. He wouldn't give the kid any points for creativity on that one.

The guy with the weird specs and a woman with a long, white cape stood near the front of the table with a bald man in a wheelchair. Tony checked them off the mental list, Cyclops, Storm, and Professor X. Fury wanted Storm for the team, along with Wolverine who leaned uninterestedly on the wall farthest from the table.

"Let's get started," Fury said as he walked through their midst. "We have a very big problem here, people."

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Ugh, TBC, but I hate to leave it there. I have another couple of pages for this scene that I'm not done with, but they'll just be part of the next chapter. I know you all have waited long enough for this update…

Chapter Six - LINK