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cap_ironman2012-10-11 02:11 pm
tresmaxwell.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2012-10-11 02:11 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: The Altar of Human Sacrifice Chap. 8, PG-13
Rating: PG13 - Violence
Characters/Pairings: Steve/Tony, and everybody else.
Universe: Movie
A/N: I am a horrible human being for making all of you wait this long. I'm sorry. RL has gotten in the way of this story and I apologize for the delay.
Chapter Eight - Black Death
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Her workspace was large, and yet constrictive. She could feel the steel maw of control closing around her with each minute she spent bent over her test tubes. It was a familiar feeling, one she encountered the first moment she set foot in the building in Moscow. Then, it had been at gunpoint, but she'd walked willingly into this new cage and she wasn't planning on letting someone close the door behind her.
Raisa Golovin considered herself to be extremely intelligent. She knew when she was being used just the same as she knew when the subatomic layers of a gene weren't going to line up properly. Magneto spouted beautiful promises the way a smoker spewed toxins. It was impossible not to breathe in since his charisma gave his words the glossy shine of truth. The longer she was near him, the more she noticed the shine flaking away to reveal the tar underneath.
Raisa sat up, her gold-green eyes flicking over the automated factory clicking and hissing around her. The moving belts held rows upon rows of vials, each filling with a dose of clear blue fluid as they traveled from one station to the next. At the end of the belt, two mutants unloaded the crates and fitted the finished product into custom cut packing foam. The foam went into white boxes with a blue logo printed on the side, 'Manhattan's Answer to Medicine' stamped beneath the emblem.
There was nothing else for her to do. The serum was as stable as she could make it with her current equipment. The technology left a lot to be desired, but Magneto and his Brotherhood were trying to keep their heads down. High-end equipment was harder to come by without breaking into a guarded facility, and that would certainly put them on SHIELD's radar.
Though her work was done, Magneto had not delivered her daughter. Raisa knew part of the delay was due to Annika's adopted family, it was no simple task to peal a child away from superheroes. The Captain and Stark were more protective than she anticipated. When she'd signed her little girl into the care of a notorious lush, she assumed it would be simple to fetch her back from him.
The mutants packing the crates looked up as she left her desk. She walked by. They were there to keep tabs on her activities, had been since day one. Raisa let Erik think he was in control here, she let them watch her and report every movement to him like good minions. She let them think her leash was tight.
Raisa was no one's pet. If Magneto proved to be untrustworthy, she would show him how sharp her claws were. The mutant would wear her scars for the rest of his days.
Her heels rang on the metal floor as she left the lab. Cool air hit her face, smelling of salt and exhaust. Some would consider it cold. Her breath misted in front of her mouth, drifting up around her head. In her homeland, this would be considered summer. On the deck of Magneto's floating fortress, newly recruited mutants were bundled to their noses. Disdain dripped from Raisa's eyes.
"Pathetic," she muttered and left the covered doorway.
The cargo freighter was spotted with rust, its paint crackled with age. The decks that were normally covered with rows of mutli-colored shipping containers were barren. They stretched out like a disused tarmac, the expanse broken only by a duel-rotor helicopter and the gathering insects of Magneto's fledgling army.
They came from all over, brought in by Mystique and Azazel from their midnight tryout sessions in abandoned buildings and empty lots. Of the hundreds of abilities Raisa had seen over the past few days, only a handful impressed her. Magneto thought his collection of drabble would survive against Fury's hand-selected heroes, and for that Raisa pitied him.
She'd seen what the Avengers were capable of, viewed the aftermath of their fight with her abominations. Head on combat was not Magneto's plan, but Raisa knew it would come to that and she didn't want to be anywhere close when it happened.
Out in the open ocean, it should've been quiet. Raisa stood at the edge of the deck and closed her eyes. The rush of water parting around the prow roared far below her, nearly lost in the chug of the engines. Broken conversations flit through the air like startled birds as the mutants milled on the deck. She only caught snatches of words, releasing them to the wind before she analyzed them.
Raisa missed the silence of home. Even more than that, she missed the gentle baritone of her husband's voice. Before the Black Widow came with her tools and her methods of persuasion, the deep tones of Yegor talking through his research were her music. It was the sound that filled her world.
Annika was all she had left of him, even if she was a stranger to Raisa. A stranger with Raisa's face, Raisa's mind. After Annika's birth, Raisa saw very little of her. Sometimes months would go by before the men that held her hostage would allow her to spend time with the girl. Whenever she saw her, the child was bigger, older. Raisa missed so much of her toddler years that Annika would sometimes peer at her as though she didn't recognize her mother. They were strangers related by blood.
Raisa refused to miss the rest of her life.
Exhaling a frustrated plume of mist, Raisa followed the ship's railing to center, and then broke off. The skeleton arms of cranes cast shadows across her path. She peered up at them before ducking into the lower levels. What used to be officer's quarters were now Magneto's conference rooms. None of the fresh recruits came here, only those the old man trusted.
Quicksilver stood on watch by the door. Eyes so pale blue they were almost white tracked her descent on the staircase. Magneto's son. Though no one seemed to bring it up, Raisa knew. Genetics were a bit of a hobby and she could spot Erik's brow line and squared jaw in the mutant before her. It was more difficult to see the family resemblance in the sister, but it was in the curvature of her ear and the shape of her eyes.
"He didn't call for you," Quicksilver told her sharply, crossing his arms over his chest.
Raisa didn't stop, "He'll see me anyway."
The room Magneto was set up in was no bigger than a shoebox, but considered a suite by ship standards. Framed maps of the ocean floor flanked the desk, the one depicting the Marianas Trench hung between a pair of utility cabinets. A pair of worn out goulashes leaned against the left cabinet, a captain's hat hanging off the door.
Raisa didn't ask about the captain. Magneto could've taken the ship from nuns for all Raisa cared, what mattered was that he was the means to an end if he held up his side of the bargain.
"News?" Raisa's lip twitched with the word.
Magneto sat reclined in the desk chair, his attention focused on a faded copy of Paradise Lost. The helmet sat on the desk in front of him, looking all the world like a dismembered head. Raisa's gaze strayed to it several times, her mind filling in the details. Yegor's head. Yegor's face. Blood dripping off the desk in coagulated streams. Raisa blinked and the image was gone. It was just a helmet, Erik's defense against Xavier.
Much like the helmet, he'd lined the exterior of the ship with some strange mix of metal after he stole it. Though Raisa didn't know the details of the alloy, she understood its purpose in blocking the professor's telepathy. It kept their floating lab hidden from anyone powerful enough to track them.
"Not the news you came here searching for. She is in Stark Tower with Banner and Stark himself. Her acquisition is not a viable option at this time," Erik said and turned the page of his book.
Putting her hands on her hips, Raisa growled, "Then your boasts are merely boasts. You are not more powerful than the Avengers, you're afraid of them. I can get her back myself."
Magneto closed his book and set it besides his helmet. The paper sleeve whispered on the surface of the desk as he slid it out of the way. "My dear girl, there is a phrase etched into history about awaking sleeping giants and filling them with terrible resolve. It is certainly something to consider when attacking a man such as Banner," the mutant told her and folded his hands on the desk. "Now, tell me about your progress."
"It is in production."
"Good, and the survival rate?"
Raisa lifted her head, "I've managed to increase the rate to over eighty percent with Rogers's blood, but I will not manage better without updated equipment. Many will die."
Magneto's scowl brought the creases at the corner of his mouth into sharp relief. He brought his hands up and rested his chin on the ridge of knuckles, staring at her with disapproval, "I expected more from you."
"A sculpture cannot create without clay. If you want refinement, I need the proper tools and more time," Raisa snapped, turning so fast her hair lashed around her.
At the door, Magneto's voice made her freeze, "Then I will need more time to acquire your child."
It was a simple statement, but Raisa heard the threat. The maw of Erik's trap was closing on her. Raisa looked at him over her shoulder, the tangle of black tresses obscuring part of her view. The corner of the mutant's mouth twisted up into a smirk. He thought he had her, but he was wrong.
Raisa was no one's pet.
"Use what time you need, but get me my equipment," she said and stepped into the hall.
On the deck, Raisa stared out at the endless ocean. Charcoal bands of clouds crawled at the horizon, smearing the boundary between sky and sea. With the wind at its back, the storm would reach the ship soon.
Raisa walked to the waiting helicopter and got inside. Flying was a self-taught skill, but her fingers flew over the controls as if they were familiar friends. The engines whined as they warmed up. Mutants came toward her from every corner of the deck, but only one got through the door before she could take off. Without looking from the instruments, Raisa lifted a pistol and shot him between the eyes. He crumpled on the floor. She shoved him out the door with her foot and urged the helicopter into the air. The deck shrank beneath her. There were many on the ship capable of bringing her out of the sky, but her risk rested firmly in the knowledge that Magneto wanted her alive.
She checked her altimeter before turning south. They would try to reclaim her at Stark Tower. She wasn't going to make it easy.
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Steve found waiting tedious. He'd always been good at occupying himself, unlike his husband, but when he was waiting on word of an attack, it was difficult to be patient. Opposite Steve, Clint sat cross-legged on the floor, sharpening a knife. Since it was the third time Clint had sharpened the same knife, the edge was honed so perfectly the assassin could shave with it. The archer had gotten up every twenty or thirty minutes to pace and stretch, occasionally aiming down the long hallway, but never releasing the arrow. The choices for Barton seemed to be pace, or maintain his weapons. Steve knew he'd be up again in a little while.
The rooms beneath the school were all chrome and white lights, bare and sterile. It reminded Steve of the helicarrier, but slightly less cramped. The ceilings were higher here. Behind the round vault door, Xavier's brain amplifier gave off white noise that made the rest of the hall seem oddly quiet. It even deadened the scrape of Clint's knife blade over his whetstone.
Steve didn't have a watch, but his internal clock said it had been almost four hours since the professor entered Cerebro. The sporadic reports Clint got from Natasha suggested that SHIELD wasn't fairing any better in their search. Steve hadn't gotten any news from Banner or Tony, but he wasn't surprised. Bruce never called, and his brilliant husband was undoubtedly neck deep in a project, so the phone was the last thing on his mind. He didn't worry about Tony forgetting Annika while he was working, Jarvis diligently reminded Tony to check on her every few hours and their little girl was in the workshop half the time anyway.
Clint sighed and slammed the knife in his boot sheath, "What's taking so long?"
"Thought you were used to sitting in a blind for hours on end, waiting for something to happen," Steve mentioned, though he wondered the same thing.
"That's different. At least then I have something to watch. This sucks."
Steve smirked as his brain immediately connected the phrase with Tony. The billionaire usually followed such a claim by 'Then it's a party', because he would never grow out of sex jokes. Steve resisted following in his footsteps, "You could've gone on that tour Bobby offered."
"Which one's- oh yeah, Iceman. Nah, he seemed more interested in hanging out with his girlfriend. He just came down here out of obligation."
"Obviously, but you still could've gone," Steve told him, turning his head at the muted ding of the elevator.
Logan sauntered into the hall and Steve had to suppress his groan. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Clint smirk, but it was gone before Steve could say something. His encounters with Wolverine had been fairly limited, so Steve was trying not to judge him too quickly. Until he opened his mouth, "Uncle Sam and Birdboy, you do know you don't have to hang out in front of Cerebro, right? Or is this how they do it at SHIELD?"
Logan hooked a thumb in a belt loop at his hip and fished a cigar out of his worn, black leather jacket. The dark end of the cigar suggested it had been lit and stubbed out before, the opposite end a bit ragged from being chewed. Sticking it in his mouth, the mutant dug out a lighter. The flame hovered at the ashy tip, Steve glancing down at it as the cigar caught and glowed red.
"We like to be prepared at SHIELD," Steve responded and pushed off the wall.
This mutant, Wolverine, rubbed him the wrong way. At first, he compared the abrasive attitude to Tony, but it didn't take Steve long to realize this man was nothing like Tony. If the two were in the same room for longer than a few minutes, Steve could see it turning into a snarky explosion.
When his nose caught the acrid smell of smoke, Steve said, "Would you put that out."
Wolverine took a drag, the tip flaring red, and blew the smoke out to the side, "Not your base, not your rules."
"I'm asking politely, put it out."
"You're not asking," the mutant said flatly. "You're telling and I don't take orders from you."
Steve straightened so he towered over the smaller man. He didn't mean it as a threat, but his patience was spread to transparency and smoking inside a school was not acceptable, even if it was in the underground facility beneath the school. Steve crowded his space, "Put it out."
"Back off, kid," Logan snarled as he approached
Logan had to tilt his head to look him in the eye. Small as he was, he certainly had a lot of moxie. No, Tony told him that word was old-fashioned. Steve wracked his vocabulary for the correct expression, thinking the modern terminology had something to do with 'having balls'. Steve liked moxie better. It wasn't so crude.
"Kid?" Steve echoed, his grip tightening on his shield. The action rippled through the muscle of his arm and shoulder, making everything cord under the uniform.
Clint tensed and Logan grinned, "Yeah. Kid. The two of you look like you left daycare to be here. What grade are you in?"
"Let me assure you that I'm not a child and I have earned a higher level of respect than that," Steve said, keeping his voice level but stern. Yelling only made things worse, he'd learned that before he'd ever even heard of the Research and Science Division of the US army. "You talk awful big for such a little guy. Used to know somebody a lot like you, except he had principles."
"Didn't think Stark had any principles, isn't that why he's in the papers so often without his clothes?"
The tendon in Steve's jaw flexed, "You'd better close your mouth or I'm going to do it for you."
"I'd really like to see you try, bub," the first hit of smoke came out with his words, curling into Steve's face.
Clint's hand closed over his bow, his sniper's eyes pinned to Logan even as he spoke to Steve, "You don't want to fight him, Cap." Logan chuckled, but Clint cut him off before he could get a word out, "I wouldn't laugh, because you don't want to fight him either. I think you should both simmer down."
Wolverine's sidelong look filled with something that bordered excitement and Steve lifted his shield. Steve knew the type, the one that loved a good fight. There was no chance Logan was going to back down and, though Steve hated to rise to bait of any kind, he knew he couldn't show weakness to this man. Logan was sizing him up.
Steve waved Wolverine's exhale away from his nose, "What's your problem?"
"My problem?" Logan snorted, sticking the cigar in the corner of his lips before he thumbed his nose. "You. You and Stark thinking you know better than us how to deal with-"
"Our child? She's ours, and yes, we actually do know what's best for her."
"And how long is she going to be yours, huh? First time that kid loses control, really loses control and destroys half of your skyscraper, you're not going to look at her like the adorable little orphan girl. You'll toss her out and we'll have to come in and do cleanup," Logan stepped in close to say it, so close Steve could feel the heat coming off the burning tip of his cigar.
Steve's body thrummed with anger, his free hand trembling slightly from the effort to keep it still.
Clint got to his feet, "Guys, stop."
"Stay out of it," Wolverine snarled, "Come on, Uncle Sam. You want to hit me, go ahead, but you know I'm right."
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh yeah? How many times have you been chased out of a bar or restaurant because people figured out you were a mutant? That kid is nothing like you, she should be in Xavier's school. Stark's got enough humanitarian projects going on to gloss over his whorish past, he doesn't need-"
Steve grabbed Wolverine's jacket and shirt with one hand and hoisted him over his head, thinking the mutant was heavier than he looked. His eyes formed ice chips as he glared at Logan, but he kept himself in check. Instead of slamming him into the floor like he wanted, Steve bit out his final warning, "Shut up."
One of Wolverine's hands went to Steve's wrist. His grip was iron, pressing bruises into the bone. The other hand he held in a fist in front of Steve's throat. Steve didn't flinch, even as blades slipped through the skin of Logan's knuckles and brushed threateningly against his Adam's apple.
"What? Did I hit a nerve?" Wolverine asked, his smirk snide. "I've got a joke for you. Tony Stark walks into a bar-"
The door to Cerebro hissed open, a voice cutting through the air and the red haze of rage in Steve's mind, "Enough."
They both jerked, but Steve doubted it was from the shout. The word in his head was almost a physical blow, leaving his ears ringing and his frontal lobe pounding. Steve set Logan on his feet and turned as Xavier maneuvered his powered wheelchair out into the hall.
"We don't have time for these spats. You will stay out of their business, Logan," Xavier ordered firmly. The dark-haired mutant growled, but swallowed whatever he planned on saying when the professor continued, "I've tracked Magneto's daughter to a quarry in the southern part of Pennsylvania. From what I can gather, I believe she is recruiting others to the Brotherhood. I've sent the coordinates to the jet and alerted Bobby and Marie, they'll meet you in the hangar."
"How many should we expect?" Steve asked as Clint and Logan started for the elevator.
Xavier shook his head, "Right now, there are eighteen of them, but the number is growing. I'll give you a better idea when you're close."
"Got it, thank you, professor," Steve turned, his mind flipping to strategy. He started to order, "Clint, get on the comm-"
"Already on it," the archer had his phone in hand, dialing as he walked. "But if they're still out over the Atlantic, we're definitely going to get there first."
"What, you worried?" Logan verbally jabbed at Clint, "Think we can't handle 'em alone?"
"You sit back and take a nap, the Captain and I will be done with this in ten minutes. The flight will take longer," Clint tossed back, earning a chuckle from the burly mutant.
"Might take you up on that."
Steve rolled his eyes, "Time to focus."
They piled into the elevator and Logan dropped his cigar and put it out under his boot. Steve furrowed his brow at the sudden change of heart. When Wolverine didn't acknowledge his curious look, Steve decided to take it at face value.
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They landed a half a mile from the coordinates Xavier provided, but they could see the dusky glow on the horizon from the facility's floodlights. The thick pines twisted in the exhaust of the jet's engines and Steve worried about their position being compromised early in the mission. The hills provided enough cover and the Blackbird was a stealth jet, but battling with mutants made everything uncertain. It only took one with excellent senses to hear them land.
As Clint flicked the switches to kill the jet, Steve slotted his shield onto his arm, "Clint, find a vantage point and wait for my signal. The rest of you are with me."
Bobby and Rogue moved like they were going to follow him, but Logan held an arm out to stop them, "Without Scott, the team is mine. You don't give orders here, bub."
Steve turned at the ramp, trying to keep his irritation in check. He knew this was going to be a problem, but he hadn't come up with any solutions during the flight. There was a legitimate argument hiding behind Logan's haughtiness. The X-Men were not his to command. Steve knew that there couldn't be two commanders on the field either, it led to confused troops and missed opportunity. Arguing commanders got troops killed.
Clint flipped open his case and took out the quiver first, fitting it into the specially designed cradle on his back. Hands flashing over the equipment, he got the bow and unfolded it with a quick jerk. Armed, the archer came to the ramp. Steve stepped aside to let him pass and Hawkeye vanished into the night silently, leaving Steve to the mutants.
Rogue tucked the white strands of hair behind her ear, "Logan, we need to get moving."
"I'm responsible for them, clear?" Logan didn't ask so much as warn, his brows shading his animalistic eyes. The young X-Men glanced at him nervously.
Not wanting a confrontation here, Steve finally nodded. "Alright. Fine. We need to move, so give the order," he said.
Wolverine walked past him and down the ramp and Rogue rolled her eyes, "Men... You all have too much testosterone for your own good, sugah. How 'bout I take charge next time?"
"I'm in," Bobby responded, following it with a faint blush as he caught Steve's gaze on him.
By the time they made it outside, Logan was a shrinking shape in the darkness. It didn't seem to Steve like it was the most effective leadership tactic to leave his team members behind. Even if he was the kind of general to lead the troops into battle, he hadn't given them any kind of direction.
Wishing for his beloved, snarky air support, Steve did his best to survey the area from the ground. From what Steve learned on the ride over, the hills were unsettled. The quarry was the only thing in the area, the rest made up of stout trees and scrub brush. A road cut east to west through the wilderness, an exposed area Steve wanted to avoid.
Steve's feet found their way instinctually over the rocky terrain, but he could hear the young couple struggling behind him. Maintaining a slow pace so he wouldn't lose them, he kept every sense open and alert. His shield led the way, covering his body from nose to stomach. Only his eyes showed over the top edge.
"I'm in position," Clint reported quietly in his ear. "There are a lot of people down here, Captain. There's- wait... wait, I see Magneto. He's here."
Steve picked up his pace. The one thing he knew about Logan was that his bones were reinforced with metal. Even if he was a pompous jerk, Steve couldn't let him walk into that. He gave Clint his orders and stretched into a lope, "Stay in position until I give the command. We'll need the others on this."
"Roger that, Rogers."
"Stop doing that," Steve said for possibly the hundredth time. Clint always worked it in at somewhere during a mission, so there wasn't much point in chiding him.
Leaping nimbly over an outcropping of rock, Steve slid in dirt on the other side. It stirred up the rich scent of decomposing leaves. His eyes were good in the dark, but it was a lot easier to maneuver the closer he got to the facility. The bright glow of the floodlights slanted through the trees.
Steve kept to the shadows, ducking behind whatever foliage he could as he got to the guillotined edge of the forest. It ended in a sharp drop where the machines had cut deep into the hill, a few of the trees clinging to the remaining ground with exposed roots. A massive stretch of raw, bare rock spread out from the remains of forest, like a festering wound in the earth. Dozens of massive trucks and dusty, yellow construction vehicles speckled the quarry. Stadium lighting hooked up to generators ringed the space at regular intervals.
In the middle of it all was a group of mutants. Steve's initial estimate came in at thirty-five, but they were clustered together in a tight circle. Two mutants fought in the center of the circle while Magneto and Scarlet Witch appraised them. The jeering from the crowd was enough to hide any sound of the jet's approach, for which Steve was grateful.
He scanned the harsh white rock from the tree line to the crowd, but didn't see Wolverine anywhere. Staying crouched, he moved along the broken edge of forest. He found Logan a few yards to the east, taking cover behind a slanted pine. The mutant's eyes flicked to him, but he made no move otherwise.
Steve took a knee beside him, talking low, "Magneto-"
"Yeah, got that."
"You got a plan?"
Wolverine extended his claws as though it served as his answer.
"That's not a plan," Steve deadpanned, wondering if he was the only one in this business who thought beyond 'attack and see what happens'. "The others are in route; we should lay low until they get here."
"Thought the two of you were going to take care of this in ten minutes and I was going to nap," Logan's quip came with a smile that wasn't as condescending as the others Steve had seen.
The sharp crack of a breaking twig caught Steve's attention and his body tensed. He looked over to catch the end of Bobby's wince. The kid gave him a sheepish shrug and mouthed, 'Sorry'. Frozen in place, Rogue waited a breath to scurry the last few feet to their hiding place. She climbed on the exposed roots of the lopsided pine, getting up on her toes to see.
"They're still in training," Logan said apologetically.
Shaking his head, Steve flicked his eyes back to the fight in the quarry. The slender mutant on the right side of the makeshift battle arena clapped its hands together and a visible shockwave slammed into the opponent. The combatant flew into the wall of bodies, knocking them to the ground.
A second later, the boom reached the tree line. It shook everything, rattling leaves and rocks. Logan growled and ducked his head at the sound, his face twisted in pain. Loose pine needles pin wheeled out of the upper branches and drifted around them. It left Steve's ears ringing.
Bobby slowly pulled his hands away from his ears, "That can't be-"
The ground beneath them shifted, the only warning they had before the pine in front of them snapped free. A deep groan went out from the base as it picked up speed. Rogue tumbled against the trunk, the fan of roots shoving her forward.
"Marie!" Bobby shouted, extending his hands.
An ice storm exploded from his fingers. The point of separation crusted with permafrost, blending the lines between tree and earth, but the forward momentum was too much to stop. Rogue pushed herself up. She reached and Wolverine lunged. His fingers closed on empty air. Following her scream, Wolverine leaped off the edge.
"Position compromised. Move in, fire at will," Steve shouted and jumped after them.
It was a longer drop than he thought, a few stories at least. Ahead of him, he saw Logan grab the girl and jump off the tree. It crashed into the bottom of the quarry, exploding into a starburst of splinters. Wolverine landed on his feet and set Rogue down.
Steve put out his shield to cushion his landing, clattering into a tight summersault. He came out of the roll in a sprint and roared, "Attack!"
It was a foolish move, but there wasn't much choice. Steve knew the only advantage they had was the element of surprise and he wasn't going to lose it. The group turned at his yell, uncoordinated and confused.
Magneto lifted his voice, "Whoever brings me the Captain's shield will have a place of honor in my army."
Steve hit the line before they could move. His shield connected in the sternum of a man's chest with a crunch. Wolverine landed in the fray to his right, claws out. It was a mess of blood and violence. Steve's focus narrowed and sharpened. Flinging his shield to clear the space around him, Steve punched a heavily tattooed punk in the nose.
He had to dodge back as the same guy coughed up a spurt of fire in his direction. Heat curled over his exposed skin and Steve bared his teeth in a grimace. Snagging the edge of his shield from the air, Steve cracked the fire breather in the side of the head with the star and twisted to throw the disk again.
Arrows rained into the battle, thunking into skulls or releasing a volley of shrapnel as they descended. Some mutants dropped, some healed or regenerated. Magneto and his dark-haired daughter remained passive observers. Steve wondered why Magneto didn't do something to stop Wolverine. The clawed mutant was taking the others apart. His metal blades flashed in the corner of Steve's eye, stained red from their fight.
Rogue fought barehanded, which Steve didn't understand until he saw her grab another mutant by the arm. Her enemy collapsed to his knees. Two others came at her, one running on all fours. She jerked her head up and slapped both hands onto the ground. The stone at their feet jutted upward, bashing into them. She moved quickly to the next mutant to steal a different power.
Not far from her, Iceman crystallized anyone who came close to him. His power had completely engulfed him, tracing his suit with white frost and encasing his head and hands. A woman in a tattered denim jacket threw up a crackling wall of energy to block his attack.
Others clustered behind her, but Wolverine was on them in a second. He impaled a man with ashy gray skin and followed his body to the ground. The man melted as he landed, turning into a thick sludge under Logan. The sludge morphed, rising up and around him to reform. Humanoid again, the man slammed Logan's head into the rock by the nape of his neck. Steve heard the clang of metal. With a snarl, Wolverine whipped around and slashed him ineffectively.
Seeing a path, Steve bolted for Magneto. Another mutant jumped between them, a lithe, genderless figure in combat boots and a leather jacket. Almost too late, Steve realized it was the mutant that could generate shockwaves. The mutant clapped its hands together and Steve ducked behind his shield. The resulting sound was louder than a jet leaving the runway. It rammed the shield with enough force to make Steve slide backward. The shield rang, sending vibrations coursing through Steve's arm.
"Where's the cavalry?" he shouted at Clint as the mutant hit him with another shockwave, driving him back.
"Ten minutes out."
Steve cursed.
"Hang on, Cap. I've got you," Clint reassured.
Three arrows whistled out of the trees in rapid succession. Scarlet Witch raised her hands, a spark of energy flying from her fingers into the air. One of the arrows exploded, driving the others off course. They clattered harmlessly around the mutant protecting them.
Big hands closed on Steve's shoulders. He whipped his shield around to hit the perpetrator, but got tossed across the battleground before the blow landed. Steve oriented himself in the air, using his momentum to slam into a different enemy feet first. Taking a moment to assess their situation, Steve didn't like what he saw. They were still outnumbered four to one. Wolverine was caught up with the same ashy, incorporeal fighter he was before and Iceman was in a deadlock with a pair of mutants. Rogue was clearly wearing thin, her mouth hanging open as she struggled to catch her breath between enemies.
Suddenly, the floodlights all around the fight went dead. Generators coughed and fell silent, leaving them in complete darkness. A cry of confusion went up from the crowd. Steve's ears perked while his eyes were adjusting. It didn't seem to be a ploy on the part of the Brotherhood, they sounded just as bewildered as anyone left in the dark.
Something hit the ground, hard, and then the confusion erupted into panic. Screams and the thump of flesh smacking something unyielding filled the air. Steve raised his shield, narrowing his eyes to pick out the smears of shadow moving frantically. A flash of light briefly illuminated the battleground, unchecked energy flowing from someone's hands. Steve caught the sight of black on black, whatever it was slammed into the mutant and the light extinguished.
"What the hell is that?" someone shouted, the same voice giving a strangled cry a moment later.
The quarry quickly went silent as bodies hit the ground. Steve lifted his shield, his instincts screaming. He didn't know whether it was a friend or an enemy worse than the ones they were already fighting. The uncertainty put him on edge. He listened intently for any sign of the threat, catching the soft sound of footsteps in the unnerving quiet.
Shutting his panic in the back of his mind, Steve waited until the footsteps were close and swung his shield. Brilliant white-blue light flared from the figure's eyes and a round port in the chest, illuminating hands held up defensively.
"Wait, Steve! It's me!" Tony's voice cried.
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TBC...
Honestly, I struggled with this chapter a little. I rewrote the argument between Wolverine and Steve about five times before I was satisfied with it. I found Wolverine's attitude a little allusive, but I hope he works now.
Next chapter, chapter nine
Characters/Pairings: Steve/Tony, and everybody else.
Universe: Movie
A/N: I am a horrible human being for making all of you wait this long. I'm sorry. RL has gotten in the way of this story and I apologize for the delay.
Chapter Eight - Black Death
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Her workspace was large, and yet constrictive. She could feel the steel maw of control closing around her with each minute she spent bent over her test tubes. It was a familiar feeling, one she encountered the first moment she set foot in the building in Moscow. Then, it had been at gunpoint, but she'd walked willingly into this new cage and she wasn't planning on letting someone close the door behind her.
Raisa Golovin considered herself to be extremely intelligent. She knew when she was being used just the same as she knew when the subatomic layers of a gene weren't going to line up properly. Magneto spouted beautiful promises the way a smoker spewed toxins. It was impossible not to breathe in since his charisma gave his words the glossy shine of truth. The longer she was near him, the more she noticed the shine flaking away to reveal the tar underneath.
Raisa sat up, her gold-green eyes flicking over the automated factory clicking and hissing around her. The moving belts held rows upon rows of vials, each filling with a dose of clear blue fluid as they traveled from one station to the next. At the end of the belt, two mutants unloaded the crates and fitted the finished product into custom cut packing foam. The foam went into white boxes with a blue logo printed on the side, 'Manhattan's Answer to Medicine' stamped beneath the emblem.
There was nothing else for her to do. The serum was as stable as she could make it with her current equipment. The technology left a lot to be desired, but Magneto and his Brotherhood were trying to keep their heads down. High-end equipment was harder to come by without breaking into a guarded facility, and that would certainly put them on SHIELD's radar.
Though her work was done, Magneto had not delivered her daughter. Raisa knew part of the delay was due to Annika's adopted family, it was no simple task to peal a child away from superheroes. The Captain and Stark were more protective than she anticipated. When she'd signed her little girl into the care of a notorious lush, she assumed it would be simple to fetch her back from him.
The mutants packing the crates looked up as she left her desk. She walked by. They were there to keep tabs on her activities, had been since day one. Raisa let Erik think he was in control here, she let them watch her and report every movement to him like good minions. She let them think her leash was tight.
Raisa was no one's pet. If Magneto proved to be untrustworthy, she would show him how sharp her claws were. The mutant would wear her scars for the rest of his days.
Her heels rang on the metal floor as she left the lab. Cool air hit her face, smelling of salt and exhaust. Some would consider it cold. Her breath misted in front of her mouth, drifting up around her head. In her homeland, this would be considered summer. On the deck of Magneto's floating fortress, newly recruited mutants were bundled to their noses. Disdain dripped from Raisa's eyes.
"Pathetic," she muttered and left the covered doorway.
The cargo freighter was spotted with rust, its paint crackled with age. The decks that were normally covered with rows of mutli-colored shipping containers were barren. They stretched out like a disused tarmac, the expanse broken only by a duel-rotor helicopter and the gathering insects of Magneto's fledgling army.
They came from all over, brought in by Mystique and Azazel from their midnight tryout sessions in abandoned buildings and empty lots. Of the hundreds of abilities Raisa had seen over the past few days, only a handful impressed her. Magneto thought his collection of drabble would survive against Fury's hand-selected heroes, and for that Raisa pitied him.
She'd seen what the Avengers were capable of, viewed the aftermath of their fight with her abominations. Head on combat was not Magneto's plan, but Raisa knew it would come to that and she didn't want to be anywhere close when it happened.
Out in the open ocean, it should've been quiet. Raisa stood at the edge of the deck and closed her eyes. The rush of water parting around the prow roared far below her, nearly lost in the chug of the engines. Broken conversations flit through the air like startled birds as the mutants milled on the deck. She only caught snatches of words, releasing them to the wind before she analyzed them.
Raisa missed the silence of home. Even more than that, she missed the gentle baritone of her husband's voice. Before the Black Widow came with her tools and her methods of persuasion, the deep tones of Yegor talking through his research were her music. It was the sound that filled her world.
Annika was all she had left of him, even if she was a stranger to Raisa. A stranger with Raisa's face, Raisa's mind. After Annika's birth, Raisa saw very little of her. Sometimes months would go by before the men that held her hostage would allow her to spend time with the girl. Whenever she saw her, the child was bigger, older. Raisa missed so much of her toddler years that Annika would sometimes peer at her as though she didn't recognize her mother. They were strangers related by blood.
Raisa refused to miss the rest of her life.
Exhaling a frustrated plume of mist, Raisa followed the ship's railing to center, and then broke off. The skeleton arms of cranes cast shadows across her path. She peered up at them before ducking into the lower levels. What used to be officer's quarters were now Magneto's conference rooms. None of the fresh recruits came here, only those the old man trusted.
Quicksilver stood on watch by the door. Eyes so pale blue they were almost white tracked her descent on the staircase. Magneto's son. Though no one seemed to bring it up, Raisa knew. Genetics were a bit of a hobby and she could spot Erik's brow line and squared jaw in the mutant before her. It was more difficult to see the family resemblance in the sister, but it was in the curvature of her ear and the shape of her eyes.
"He didn't call for you," Quicksilver told her sharply, crossing his arms over his chest.
Raisa didn't stop, "He'll see me anyway."
The room Magneto was set up in was no bigger than a shoebox, but considered a suite by ship standards. Framed maps of the ocean floor flanked the desk, the one depicting the Marianas Trench hung between a pair of utility cabinets. A pair of worn out goulashes leaned against the left cabinet, a captain's hat hanging off the door.
Raisa didn't ask about the captain. Magneto could've taken the ship from nuns for all Raisa cared, what mattered was that he was the means to an end if he held up his side of the bargain.
"News?" Raisa's lip twitched with the word.
Magneto sat reclined in the desk chair, his attention focused on a faded copy of Paradise Lost. The helmet sat on the desk in front of him, looking all the world like a dismembered head. Raisa's gaze strayed to it several times, her mind filling in the details. Yegor's head. Yegor's face. Blood dripping off the desk in coagulated streams. Raisa blinked and the image was gone. It was just a helmet, Erik's defense against Xavier.
Much like the helmet, he'd lined the exterior of the ship with some strange mix of metal after he stole it. Though Raisa didn't know the details of the alloy, she understood its purpose in blocking the professor's telepathy. It kept their floating lab hidden from anyone powerful enough to track them.
"Not the news you came here searching for. She is in Stark Tower with Banner and Stark himself. Her acquisition is not a viable option at this time," Erik said and turned the page of his book.
Putting her hands on her hips, Raisa growled, "Then your boasts are merely boasts. You are not more powerful than the Avengers, you're afraid of them. I can get her back myself."
Magneto closed his book and set it besides his helmet. The paper sleeve whispered on the surface of the desk as he slid it out of the way. "My dear girl, there is a phrase etched into history about awaking sleeping giants and filling them with terrible resolve. It is certainly something to consider when attacking a man such as Banner," the mutant told her and folded his hands on the desk. "Now, tell me about your progress."
"It is in production."
"Good, and the survival rate?"
Raisa lifted her head, "I've managed to increase the rate to over eighty percent with Rogers's blood, but I will not manage better without updated equipment. Many will die."
Magneto's scowl brought the creases at the corner of his mouth into sharp relief. He brought his hands up and rested his chin on the ridge of knuckles, staring at her with disapproval, "I expected more from you."
"A sculpture cannot create without clay. If you want refinement, I need the proper tools and more time," Raisa snapped, turning so fast her hair lashed around her.
At the door, Magneto's voice made her freeze, "Then I will need more time to acquire your child."
It was a simple statement, but Raisa heard the threat. The maw of Erik's trap was closing on her. Raisa looked at him over her shoulder, the tangle of black tresses obscuring part of her view. The corner of the mutant's mouth twisted up into a smirk. He thought he had her, but he was wrong.
Raisa was no one's pet.
"Use what time you need, but get me my equipment," she said and stepped into the hall.
On the deck, Raisa stared out at the endless ocean. Charcoal bands of clouds crawled at the horizon, smearing the boundary between sky and sea. With the wind at its back, the storm would reach the ship soon.
Raisa walked to the waiting helicopter and got inside. Flying was a self-taught skill, but her fingers flew over the controls as if they were familiar friends. The engines whined as they warmed up. Mutants came toward her from every corner of the deck, but only one got through the door before she could take off. Without looking from the instruments, Raisa lifted a pistol and shot him between the eyes. He crumpled on the floor. She shoved him out the door with her foot and urged the helicopter into the air. The deck shrank beneath her. There were many on the ship capable of bringing her out of the sky, but her risk rested firmly in the knowledge that Magneto wanted her alive.
She checked her altimeter before turning south. They would try to reclaim her at Stark Tower. She wasn't going to make it easy.
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Steve found waiting tedious. He'd always been good at occupying himself, unlike his husband, but when he was waiting on word of an attack, it was difficult to be patient. Opposite Steve, Clint sat cross-legged on the floor, sharpening a knife. Since it was the third time Clint had sharpened the same knife, the edge was honed so perfectly the assassin could shave with it. The archer had gotten up every twenty or thirty minutes to pace and stretch, occasionally aiming down the long hallway, but never releasing the arrow. The choices for Barton seemed to be pace, or maintain his weapons. Steve knew he'd be up again in a little while.
The rooms beneath the school were all chrome and white lights, bare and sterile. It reminded Steve of the helicarrier, but slightly less cramped. The ceilings were higher here. Behind the round vault door, Xavier's brain amplifier gave off white noise that made the rest of the hall seem oddly quiet. It even deadened the scrape of Clint's knife blade over his whetstone.
Steve didn't have a watch, but his internal clock said it had been almost four hours since the professor entered Cerebro. The sporadic reports Clint got from Natasha suggested that SHIELD wasn't fairing any better in their search. Steve hadn't gotten any news from Banner or Tony, but he wasn't surprised. Bruce never called, and his brilliant husband was undoubtedly neck deep in a project, so the phone was the last thing on his mind. He didn't worry about Tony forgetting Annika while he was working, Jarvis diligently reminded Tony to check on her every few hours and their little girl was in the workshop half the time anyway.
Clint sighed and slammed the knife in his boot sheath, "What's taking so long?"
"Thought you were used to sitting in a blind for hours on end, waiting for something to happen," Steve mentioned, though he wondered the same thing.
"That's different. At least then I have something to watch. This sucks."
Steve smirked as his brain immediately connected the phrase with Tony. The billionaire usually followed such a claim by 'Then it's a party', because he would never grow out of sex jokes. Steve resisted following in his footsteps, "You could've gone on that tour Bobby offered."
"Which one's- oh yeah, Iceman. Nah, he seemed more interested in hanging out with his girlfriend. He just came down here out of obligation."
"Obviously, but you still could've gone," Steve told him, turning his head at the muted ding of the elevator.
Logan sauntered into the hall and Steve had to suppress his groan. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Clint smirk, but it was gone before Steve could say something. His encounters with Wolverine had been fairly limited, so Steve was trying not to judge him too quickly. Until he opened his mouth, "Uncle Sam and Birdboy, you do know you don't have to hang out in front of Cerebro, right? Or is this how they do it at SHIELD?"
Logan hooked a thumb in a belt loop at his hip and fished a cigar out of his worn, black leather jacket. The dark end of the cigar suggested it had been lit and stubbed out before, the opposite end a bit ragged from being chewed. Sticking it in his mouth, the mutant dug out a lighter. The flame hovered at the ashy tip, Steve glancing down at it as the cigar caught and glowed red.
"We like to be prepared at SHIELD," Steve responded and pushed off the wall.
This mutant, Wolverine, rubbed him the wrong way. At first, he compared the abrasive attitude to Tony, but it didn't take Steve long to realize this man was nothing like Tony. If the two were in the same room for longer than a few minutes, Steve could see it turning into a snarky explosion.
When his nose caught the acrid smell of smoke, Steve said, "Would you put that out."
Wolverine took a drag, the tip flaring red, and blew the smoke out to the side, "Not your base, not your rules."
"I'm asking politely, put it out."
"You're not asking," the mutant said flatly. "You're telling and I don't take orders from you."
Steve straightened so he towered over the smaller man. He didn't mean it as a threat, but his patience was spread to transparency and smoking inside a school was not acceptable, even if it was in the underground facility beneath the school. Steve crowded his space, "Put it out."
"Back off, kid," Logan snarled as he approached
Logan had to tilt his head to look him in the eye. Small as he was, he certainly had a lot of moxie. No, Tony told him that word was old-fashioned. Steve wracked his vocabulary for the correct expression, thinking the modern terminology had something to do with 'having balls'. Steve liked moxie better. It wasn't so crude.
"Kid?" Steve echoed, his grip tightening on his shield. The action rippled through the muscle of his arm and shoulder, making everything cord under the uniform.
Clint tensed and Logan grinned, "Yeah. Kid. The two of you look like you left daycare to be here. What grade are you in?"
"Let me assure you that I'm not a child and I have earned a higher level of respect than that," Steve said, keeping his voice level but stern. Yelling only made things worse, he'd learned that before he'd ever even heard of the Research and Science Division of the US army. "You talk awful big for such a little guy. Used to know somebody a lot like you, except he had principles."
"Didn't think Stark had any principles, isn't that why he's in the papers so often without his clothes?"
The tendon in Steve's jaw flexed, "You'd better close your mouth or I'm going to do it for you."
"I'd really like to see you try, bub," the first hit of smoke came out with his words, curling into Steve's face.
Clint's hand closed over his bow, his sniper's eyes pinned to Logan even as he spoke to Steve, "You don't want to fight him, Cap." Logan chuckled, but Clint cut him off before he could get a word out, "I wouldn't laugh, because you don't want to fight him either. I think you should both simmer down."
Wolverine's sidelong look filled with something that bordered excitement and Steve lifted his shield. Steve knew the type, the one that loved a good fight. There was no chance Logan was going to back down and, though Steve hated to rise to bait of any kind, he knew he couldn't show weakness to this man. Logan was sizing him up.
Steve waved Wolverine's exhale away from his nose, "What's your problem?"
"My problem?" Logan snorted, sticking the cigar in the corner of his lips before he thumbed his nose. "You. You and Stark thinking you know better than us how to deal with-"
"Our child? She's ours, and yes, we actually do know what's best for her."
"And how long is she going to be yours, huh? First time that kid loses control, really loses control and destroys half of your skyscraper, you're not going to look at her like the adorable little orphan girl. You'll toss her out and we'll have to come in and do cleanup," Logan stepped in close to say it, so close Steve could feel the heat coming off the burning tip of his cigar.
Steve's body thrummed with anger, his free hand trembling slightly from the effort to keep it still.
Clint got to his feet, "Guys, stop."
"Stay out of it," Wolverine snarled, "Come on, Uncle Sam. You want to hit me, go ahead, but you know I'm right."
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh yeah? How many times have you been chased out of a bar or restaurant because people figured out you were a mutant? That kid is nothing like you, she should be in Xavier's school. Stark's got enough humanitarian projects going on to gloss over his whorish past, he doesn't need-"
Steve grabbed Wolverine's jacket and shirt with one hand and hoisted him over his head, thinking the mutant was heavier than he looked. His eyes formed ice chips as he glared at Logan, but he kept himself in check. Instead of slamming him into the floor like he wanted, Steve bit out his final warning, "Shut up."
One of Wolverine's hands went to Steve's wrist. His grip was iron, pressing bruises into the bone. The other hand he held in a fist in front of Steve's throat. Steve didn't flinch, even as blades slipped through the skin of Logan's knuckles and brushed threateningly against his Adam's apple.
"What? Did I hit a nerve?" Wolverine asked, his smirk snide. "I've got a joke for you. Tony Stark walks into a bar-"
The door to Cerebro hissed open, a voice cutting through the air and the red haze of rage in Steve's mind, "Enough."
They both jerked, but Steve doubted it was from the shout. The word in his head was almost a physical blow, leaving his ears ringing and his frontal lobe pounding. Steve set Logan on his feet and turned as Xavier maneuvered his powered wheelchair out into the hall.
"We don't have time for these spats. You will stay out of their business, Logan," Xavier ordered firmly. The dark-haired mutant growled, but swallowed whatever he planned on saying when the professor continued, "I've tracked Magneto's daughter to a quarry in the southern part of Pennsylvania. From what I can gather, I believe she is recruiting others to the Brotherhood. I've sent the coordinates to the jet and alerted Bobby and Marie, they'll meet you in the hangar."
"How many should we expect?" Steve asked as Clint and Logan started for the elevator.
Xavier shook his head, "Right now, there are eighteen of them, but the number is growing. I'll give you a better idea when you're close."
"Got it, thank you, professor," Steve turned, his mind flipping to strategy. He started to order, "Clint, get on the comm-"
"Already on it," the archer had his phone in hand, dialing as he walked. "But if they're still out over the Atlantic, we're definitely going to get there first."
"What, you worried?" Logan verbally jabbed at Clint, "Think we can't handle 'em alone?"
"You sit back and take a nap, the Captain and I will be done with this in ten minutes. The flight will take longer," Clint tossed back, earning a chuckle from the burly mutant.
"Might take you up on that."
Steve rolled his eyes, "Time to focus."
They piled into the elevator and Logan dropped his cigar and put it out under his boot. Steve furrowed his brow at the sudden change of heart. When Wolverine didn't acknowledge his curious look, Steve decided to take it at face value.
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They landed a half a mile from the coordinates Xavier provided, but they could see the dusky glow on the horizon from the facility's floodlights. The thick pines twisted in the exhaust of the jet's engines and Steve worried about their position being compromised early in the mission. The hills provided enough cover and the Blackbird was a stealth jet, but battling with mutants made everything uncertain. It only took one with excellent senses to hear them land.
As Clint flicked the switches to kill the jet, Steve slotted his shield onto his arm, "Clint, find a vantage point and wait for my signal. The rest of you are with me."
Bobby and Rogue moved like they were going to follow him, but Logan held an arm out to stop them, "Without Scott, the team is mine. You don't give orders here, bub."
Steve turned at the ramp, trying to keep his irritation in check. He knew this was going to be a problem, but he hadn't come up with any solutions during the flight. There was a legitimate argument hiding behind Logan's haughtiness. The X-Men were not his to command. Steve knew that there couldn't be two commanders on the field either, it led to confused troops and missed opportunity. Arguing commanders got troops killed.
Clint flipped open his case and took out the quiver first, fitting it into the specially designed cradle on his back. Hands flashing over the equipment, he got the bow and unfolded it with a quick jerk. Armed, the archer came to the ramp. Steve stepped aside to let him pass and Hawkeye vanished into the night silently, leaving Steve to the mutants.
Rogue tucked the white strands of hair behind her ear, "Logan, we need to get moving."
"I'm responsible for them, clear?" Logan didn't ask so much as warn, his brows shading his animalistic eyes. The young X-Men glanced at him nervously.
Not wanting a confrontation here, Steve finally nodded. "Alright. Fine. We need to move, so give the order," he said.
Wolverine walked past him and down the ramp and Rogue rolled her eyes, "Men... You all have too much testosterone for your own good, sugah. How 'bout I take charge next time?"
"I'm in," Bobby responded, following it with a faint blush as he caught Steve's gaze on him.
By the time they made it outside, Logan was a shrinking shape in the darkness. It didn't seem to Steve like it was the most effective leadership tactic to leave his team members behind. Even if he was the kind of general to lead the troops into battle, he hadn't given them any kind of direction.
Wishing for his beloved, snarky air support, Steve did his best to survey the area from the ground. From what Steve learned on the ride over, the hills were unsettled. The quarry was the only thing in the area, the rest made up of stout trees and scrub brush. A road cut east to west through the wilderness, an exposed area Steve wanted to avoid.
Steve's feet found their way instinctually over the rocky terrain, but he could hear the young couple struggling behind him. Maintaining a slow pace so he wouldn't lose them, he kept every sense open and alert. His shield led the way, covering his body from nose to stomach. Only his eyes showed over the top edge.
"I'm in position," Clint reported quietly in his ear. "There are a lot of people down here, Captain. There's- wait... wait, I see Magneto. He's here."
Steve picked up his pace. The one thing he knew about Logan was that his bones were reinforced with metal. Even if he was a pompous jerk, Steve couldn't let him walk into that. He gave Clint his orders and stretched into a lope, "Stay in position until I give the command. We'll need the others on this."
"Roger that, Rogers."
"Stop doing that," Steve said for possibly the hundredth time. Clint always worked it in at somewhere during a mission, so there wasn't much point in chiding him.
Leaping nimbly over an outcropping of rock, Steve slid in dirt on the other side. It stirred up the rich scent of decomposing leaves. His eyes were good in the dark, but it was a lot easier to maneuver the closer he got to the facility. The bright glow of the floodlights slanted through the trees.
Steve kept to the shadows, ducking behind whatever foliage he could as he got to the guillotined edge of the forest. It ended in a sharp drop where the machines had cut deep into the hill, a few of the trees clinging to the remaining ground with exposed roots. A massive stretch of raw, bare rock spread out from the remains of forest, like a festering wound in the earth. Dozens of massive trucks and dusty, yellow construction vehicles speckled the quarry. Stadium lighting hooked up to generators ringed the space at regular intervals.
In the middle of it all was a group of mutants. Steve's initial estimate came in at thirty-five, but they were clustered together in a tight circle. Two mutants fought in the center of the circle while Magneto and Scarlet Witch appraised them. The jeering from the crowd was enough to hide any sound of the jet's approach, for which Steve was grateful.
He scanned the harsh white rock from the tree line to the crowd, but didn't see Wolverine anywhere. Staying crouched, he moved along the broken edge of forest. He found Logan a few yards to the east, taking cover behind a slanted pine. The mutant's eyes flicked to him, but he made no move otherwise.
Steve took a knee beside him, talking low, "Magneto-"
"Yeah, got that."
"You got a plan?"
Wolverine extended his claws as though it served as his answer.
"That's not a plan," Steve deadpanned, wondering if he was the only one in this business who thought beyond 'attack and see what happens'. "The others are in route; we should lay low until they get here."
"Thought the two of you were going to take care of this in ten minutes and I was going to nap," Logan's quip came with a smile that wasn't as condescending as the others Steve had seen.
The sharp crack of a breaking twig caught Steve's attention and his body tensed. He looked over to catch the end of Bobby's wince. The kid gave him a sheepish shrug and mouthed, 'Sorry'. Frozen in place, Rogue waited a breath to scurry the last few feet to their hiding place. She climbed on the exposed roots of the lopsided pine, getting up on her toes to see.
"They're still in training," Logan said apologetically.
Shaking his head, Steve flicked his eyes back to the fight in the quarry. The slender mutant on the right side of the makeshift battle arena clapped its hands together and a visible shockwave slammed into the opponent. The combatant flew into the wall of bodies, knocking them to the ground.
A second later, the boom reached the tree line. It shook everything, rattling leaves and rocks. Logan growled and ducked his head at the sound, his face twisted in pain. Loose pine needles pin wheeled out of the upper branches and drifted around them. It left Steve's ears ringing.
Bobby slowly pulled his hands away from his ears, "That can't be-"
The ground beneath them shifted, the only warning they had before the pine in front of them snapped free. A deep groan went out from the base as it picked up speed. Rogue tumbled against the trunk, the fan of roots shoving her forward.
"Marie!" Bobby shouted, extending his hands.
An ice storm exploded from his fingers. The point of separation crusted with permafrost, blending the lines between tree and earth, but the forward momentum was too much to stop. Rogue pushed herself up. She reached and Wolverine lunged. His fingers closed on empty air. Following her scream, Wolverine leaped off the edge.
"Position compromised. Move in, fire at will," Steve shouted and jumped after them.
It was a longer drop than he thought, a few stories at least. Ahead of him, he saw Logan grab the girl and jump off the tree. It crashed into the bottom of the quarry, exploding into a starburst of splinters. Wolverine landed on his feet and set Rogue down.
Steve put out his shield to cushion his landing, clattering into a tight summersault. He came out of the roll in a sprint and roared, "Attack!"
It was a foolish move, but there wasn't much choice. Steve knew the only advantage they had was the element of surprise and he wasn't going to lose it. The group turned at his yell, uncoordinated and confused.
Magneto lifted his voice, "Whoever brings me the Captain's shield will have a place of honor in my army."
Steve hit the line before they could move. His shield connected in the sternum of a man's chest with a crunch. Wolverine landed in the fray to his right, claws out. It was a mess of blood and violence. Steve's focus narrowed and sharpened. Flinging his shield to clear the space around him, Steve punched a heavily tattooed punk in the nose.
He had to dodge back as the same guy coughed up a spurt of fire in his direction. Heat curled over his exposed skin and Steve bared his teeth in a grimace. Snagging the edge of his shield from the air, Steve cracked the fire breather in the side of the head with the star and twisted to throw the disk again.
Arrows rained into the battle, thunking into skulls or releasing a volley of shrapnel as they descended. Some mutants dropped, some healed or regenerated. Magneto and his dark-haired daughter remained passive observers. Steve wondered why Magneto didn't do something to stop Wolverine. The clawed mutant was taking the others apart. His metal blades flashed in the corner of Steve's eye, stained red from their fight.
Rogue fought barehanded, which Steve didn't understand until he saw her grab another mutant by the arm. Her enemy collapsed to his knees. Two others came at her, one running on all fours. She jerked her head up and slapped both hands onto the ground. The stone at their feet jutted upward, bashing into them. She moved quickly to the next mutant to steal a different power.
Not far from her, Iceman crystallized anyone who came close to him. His power had completely engulfed him, tracing his suit with white frost and encasing his head and hands. A woman in a tattered denim jacket threw up a crackling wall of energy to block his attack.
Others clustered behind her, but Wolverine was on them in a second. He impaled a man with ashy gray skin and followed his body to the ground. The man melted as he landed, turning into a thick sludge under Logan. The sludge morphed, rising up and around him to reform. Humanoid again, the man slammed Logan's head into the rock by the nape of his neck. Steve heard the clang of metal. With a snarl, Wolverine whipped around and slashed him ineffectively.
Seeing a path, Steve bolted for Magneto. Another mutant jumped between them, a lithe, genderless figure in combat boots and a leather jacket. Almost too late, Steve realized it was the mutant that could generate shockwaves. The mutant clapped its hands together and Steve ducked behind his shield. The resulting sound was louder than a jet leaving the runway. It rammed the shield with enough force to make Steve slide backward. The shield rang, sending vibrations coursing through Steve's arm.
"Where's the cavalry?" he shouted at Clint as the mutant hit him with another shockwave, driving him back.
"Ten minutes out."
Steve cursed.
"Hang on, Cap. I've got you," Clint reassured.
Three arrows whistled out of the trees in rapid succession. Scarlet Witch raised her hands, a spark of energy flying from her fingers into the air. One of the arrows exploded, driving the others off course. They clattered harmlessly around the mutant protecting them.
Big hands closed on Steve's shoulders. He whipped his shield around to hit the perpetrator, but got tossed across the battleground before the blow landed. Steve oriented himself in the air, using his momentum to slam into a different enemy feet first. Taking a moment to assess their situation, Steve didn't like what he saw. They were still outnumbered four to one. Wolverine was caught up with the same ashy, incorporeal fighter he was before and Iceman was in a deadlock with a pair of mutants. Rogue was clearly wearing thin, her mouth hanging open as she struggled to catch her breath between enemies.
Suddenly, the floodlights all around the fight went dead. Generators coughed and fell silent, leaving them in complete darkness. A cry of confusion went up from the crowd. Steve's ears perked while his eyes were adjusting. It didn't seem to be a ploy on the part of the Brotherhood, they sounded just as bewildered as anyone left in the dark.
Something hit the ground, hard, and then the confusion erupted into panic. Screams and the thump of flesh smacking something unyielding filled the air. Steve raised his shield, narrowing his eyes to pick out the smears of shadow moving frantically. A flash of light briefly illuminated the battleground, unchecked energy flowing from someone's hands. Steve caught the sight of black on black, whatever it was slammed into the mutant and the light extinguished.
"What the hell is that?" someone shouted, the same voice giving a strangled cry a moment later.
The quarry quickly went silent as bodies hit the ground. Steve lifted his shield, his instincts screaming. He didn't know whether it was a friend or an enemy worse than the ones they were already fighting. The uncertainty put him on edge. He listened intently for any sign of the threat, catching the soft sound of footsteps in the unnerving quiet.
Shutting his panic in the back of his mind, Steve waited until the footsteps were close and swung his shield. Brilliant white-blue light flared from the figure's eyes and a round port in the chest, illuminating hands held up defensively.
"Wait, Steve! It's me!" Tony's voice cried.
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TBC...
Honestly, I struggled with this chapter a little. I rewrote the argument between Wolverine and Steve about five times before I was satisfied with it. I found Wolverine's attitude a little allusive, but I hope he works now.
Next chapter, chapter nine
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Thanks so much!
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Anyway, you can find all of it on my tumblr: http://tresmaxwell.tumblr.com/stories
Or you can read it on my FF.net page, if you're not opposed to the site: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8101337/1/Worshiping-at-the-Modern-Altar
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Sorry! Not even reading your work yet and I'm being all demanding. ;-)
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