cap_ironman_fe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
cap_ironman2012-01-02 05:35 am
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in cap_ironman2012-01-02 05:35 am
Entry tags:
Happy Holidays, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
espadas part four!
Title: Team Building Activities
Beta:dorcas_gustine
Author:valtyr
Rating: R
Parings: Steve/Tony, Pepper/Tony, Clint and Natasha are open to interpretation.
Universe: Movieverse
Wordcount: 40k
A/N: This got out of hand. You can carve that on my tombstone.
Summary: Fury's a beautiful princess. Clint's plotting a Communist revolution. Rhodey's not sexy. Wall-E's not a documentary. Clint's not gay but he does give a great blowjob. This fic is not an AU.
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
Steve went from sleep to waking to dragging on his clothes in about two seconds. That was the emergency alarm; it had only gone off twice before, and both times had been drills.
He ran down the stairs to find Clint still awake - at 3am, really - and Natasha tying her sneakers.
"Where's Tony?"
"Already down in the basement," Natasha reported. "Said if the helicopter came before he was done, he'd catch us up."
It wasn't exactly Steve's favourite solution, but Tony refused to keep his armour at SHIELD, and Fury refused to keep the rest of the team's kit outside SHIELD.
They were only half-way to SHIELD when a familiar shape buzzed past, and the radio crackled to life.
"We should have our own helicopter, right? Save time, Fury wouldn't have to send a ride out."
"Awesome," Clint said. "Hey, go ahead and get us some coffee made."
"I'm not the maid, Clint."
"You're more like a robot butler, right?"
Tony flipped him the finger before showing them his heels.
There was coffee when they got there, although that was probably because Tony needed his own caffeine infusion rather than any consideration towards Clint.
"Banner's had an episode," Fury said as soon as Natasha shut the door to the briefing room, and Clint let out a whistle. "Get changed, I'll brief you as we go."
"There's not going to be any hushing this up," Tony said. His voice had little variation to it in the suit, and his body language was muffled; but still, Steve thought he was worried. "It's on TV, Twitter, Youtube."
"Right now, our priority is stopping him, not cleaning up," Fury said, and Steve half-turned away from the case containing his uniform.
"Sir? It's - it's ongoing?"
"Bruce Banner's taking Manhattan," Tony confirmed.
"So please, gentlemen - and Natasha - don't waste time primping." Fury talked about Banner, running over his observed powers, while Steve tried to breathe. He felt like he had asthma again; he felt like the first time he'd been pushed onto a stage.
He sealed the new costume, checked the belt, made sure gloves and boots were secure. Settled the helmet in place, and that only made him more nervous; sure, Captain America had be a symbol back in the day, but now, he was more than that. Steve had no idea how he was going to live up to - to himself.
They travelled in a car with big sliding doors and tinted windows; Tony was crammed in with them, to his clearly expressed annoyance. Agent Hill drove, and Fury maintained a furious argument with someone - possibly several someones - on his mobile phone.
They pulled up behind a cordon, and the sound of gunfire and explosions made Steve's heartbeat settle. That, he knew how to deal with. He reached for the door handle, and Fury blocked him.
"Sir?"
"Sit down, soldier. We don't have clearance." He folded his phone shut.
"Are you kidding me?" Tony put up his faceplate. "What, you've called us out to sit in the van?"
"This is an army operation," Fury said tightly.
"And the army are going to completely screw the pooch, again," Tony snapped.
"And that's why we're here, sitting in a van," Fury sat back. "Ready to provide support."
Tony growled, and slammed his faceplate down again. The ground trembled beneath them.
"Banner just smashed a tank into the ground," he reported after a moment. "You know when you smack a war-gaming table, and all those little plastic soldiers fall down?"
"Sir," Steve said, and Fury shook his head.
"We can't go off half-cocked, soldier. We'll just cause confusion, get people killed."
Tony tapped his metal boot on the floor.
"People are getting killed now. I'll go; everyone knows I'm - "
"You sit right there." Fury's tone sharpened. "You're on this team as long as I have some control over you; without that, you're a liability."
"Well, I'm sorry, maybe you guys are happy to sit there while Banner curb-stomps your political adversaries - "
"This is not about rivalries, Stark, this is about going through the proper channels. SHIELD is still proving its utility - "
"Utility to sit in vans! I'm going, I'm getting out - "
Steve put his hand on Tony's arm, and he stilled.
"Can you try again, sir? There has to be something we can do, even if only a support role." He met Fury's eyes steadily; he could see frustration there, and then calculation.
Fury opened his phone, and tapped it.
"Sir," he said. "Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I understand." There was a pause, and then Fury arched an eyebrow at Steve. "Captain America asked me to call you again, ask if there was anything he and his team could do. He doesn't like seeing soldiers getting their asses kicked while he sits around. No, sir, I'm not making fun, he asked me to call."
"They're getting slaughtered," Tony said dispassionately. "If they've got anything that can take Banner down, they can't deploy it in Manhattan."
"Let me speak to him," Steve said suddenly, and held out his hand. Fury, to his surprise, grinned an evil grin.
"I'll just pass you over to the Captain now." He shoved the phone into Steve's gloved hand, helped him fold the still-new leather around it.
"Hello?" Steve said foolishly, over the dammit Fury -
"Captain America?"
Steve took a breath, and spoke with the calm assurance he'd learned in the field.
"Sir, all our information says the army's lost control of the situation. We'd like to go in and contain Banner for long enough for them to regroup."
"You think you can contain that thing?"
"I do, sir." He shut his eyes. "With all due respect, the army's methods aren't working here, and never have. It's time to try something different."
"Pass me back to Director Fury."
"Sir." Steve handed the phone back.
"Yes sir," Fury gave him a thumbs-up. "Of course. Thank you, Mr President, I will." And he shut the phone. "We're on."
"That was the President?" Steve wasn't quite horrified. It wasn't like he'd never spoken to a President, of course, but he wasn't sure he'd been as polite as he should be.
"I bet he's a fanboy too." Tony shoved Steve's shoulder. "Come on, come on!"
They spilled out into the darkened street; the glass had shattered in all the streetlights. Tony took to the sky like a freed bird. Steve squinted after him, but soon lost him in the lights of Manhattan. At least the power wasn't out, then.
The three of them jogged down the road towards the noise of destruction. There was no gunfire now.
"He's heading west along 50th Street," Iron Man's voice crackled in his ear. "Turn down 49th, cut him off at the Avenue of the Americas, it'll make great headlines."
"Oh, shut up," Steve muttered, feeling that tightness in his chest again. If they screwed this up, after he'd spoken like that to the President - "Which one's the Avenue of the Americas?"
"Sixth."
"What's he doing?"
"Seems to be looking for people; keeps peering into cars, then throwing them aside. No one here, though; monitoring heat signatures. Army seem to be retreating in good order."
They hit Sixth Avenue at the same time as Banner; the noise he made covered the sounds of their steps. He advanced to the centre of the road, and straightened from his habitual hunch; Steve took a slow breath, assessing his size. Around ten foot, and most of the length in his powerful torso.
Banner was staring up at the ranked skyscrapers, sparkling against the darkened sky. For a moment, Steve thought his rampage was done, that he'd settle and change back into the skinny scientist, but instead he bellowed, a deep animal roar with an air of challenge, and turned to fold his hands in the roof of a car, crumpling sheet metal like cloth.
"Let's try and contain him here," Steve said. "Try not to trash the Rockefeller Centre. Tony, stay airborne."
"Gotcha."
Steve wasn't nervous, not anymore, the adrenaline was singing and the world was slowing around him. Banner threw the car at the nearest skyscraper, and Steve registered the sound of repulsor fire - Iron Man fielding it, no doubt. He was on Banner before he'd risen from his crouch, hurdled him, tapped one foot on a broad green shoulder as he flew, and Banner uncoiled far faster than anything that size had a right to.
But Steve had seen the tapes, already had his knees tucked to his chest to clear the hand that lashed out to grab him. Looking down, he saw black blood bloom on the bulging forearm, the trace of an arrow from Clint's bow, and Banner forgot Steve and turned savagely on to Clint, all teeth and fists and rage.
He'd only taken three striding steps before electricity crackled a halo round his head, and Natasha bounced off a car roof and landed on a streetlight, swarming up it so fast that by the time Banner had hold of the base, she was already leaping clear, catching hold of one of the flags that hung there - Japanese, Steve thought. Banner lifted the streetlight with a screech of tearing metal, and swung it, but too late - Natasha let go of the flag and flew into a tree, and Steve let his shield fly, sent it blurring past Banner's ear, off a wall, off the pavement, and then back past Banner, sending him spinning in apparent confusion.
Banner took a few steps, peering about him, and then caught sight of Clint. He lifted the street light high, and hurled it like a javelin; but blue light snacked it out of the sky, and Banner peered up at the circling glow of Iron Man.
"Tony, climb," Steve said sharply, seeing Banner's knees bend, and Tony jetted skywards as Banner leapt. Steve's heart caught in his throat for a second, but Banner landed empty-handed, and howled in anger.
"This is good." Steve let the shield loose again, running to catch it, seeing Natasha scaling the wall of a building, Clint moving low, arrow notched. "Keep this up, guys, we just need to keep him busy, he can't stay like this forever."
"We can't keep it up forever either," Tony said, and Steve saw a sweep of blue light above them. "At least, maybe the super soldier can, and Natasha's a cyborg, but Clint there - "
"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm a soldier. I'm worried about you, Tony, you're not as young as you used to be." Clint sent the next arrow into a windscreen, shattering it; Banner seemed to hold the car accountable, and punched it a few times.
"All right guys, focus. That's enough trash talk for at least ten minutes."
"Oh come on," Clint scuttled into the cover of a hydrant. "Can't I have Natasha's go?"
"I'll have Steve's, then."
"I'm saving mine." Natasha strolled out on the pole of the overhanging stoplight as casually as if it were a highway. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled; Banner stared about wildly, unable to make her out in the dimness. "Stark's right, though, we can't keep this up forever." As Banner passed under her, she jumped down onto his shoulder and ran down his spine, bouncing off and fleeing down the street. Banner gave chase, until he took a repulsor beam in the eyes and tripped to the floor with a horrible thud.
"Let's keep it up as long as we can," Steve said.
"As the bishop said to the actress," and Tony dived-bombed in front of Banner, swooping up and away as Banner leapt again.
As it turned out, they could keep it up for twenty-eight minutes. That was when a car hood buckled unexpectedly under Clint's feet, and in the second it took him to regain his balance, Banner's fist impacted him.
Clint flew, and smacked a wall, and Banner lunged after him; but Natasha bounded in and kicked him three times in the face before spinning off sideways, flipping off a lamp and landing on a car roof. Her face was set with terrifying rigidity.
Steve could see blood spreading dark on the pavement.
"Tony, can you get him?"
"If he's got internal injuries, that could be a really bad idea," Tony dived on Banner, dropping what looked like a car door on his head.
"Other option's moving the Hulk," a new voice came over the comms. Fury.
"Let's take him out," Tony said. "We've been dancing almost half an hour; the army had their chance, we have to get Clint out of here."
"You got a plan, Stark?" And Steve heard smugness overcome the worry in Tony's voice.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Tony's latest toy was spy drones; fist sized, flight-capable, packed with cameras. Their major disadvantages were that they handled like barges and he really didn't want anyone getting hold of them, which made them less than useful in most situations.
What they were good for was scouting round a fight. 51st Street had a nice, handy underground garage, and that was where Tony was now, while his little drone hovered ten feet above ground monitoring Banner. And Tony's team.
Natasha danced forward down the car to the hood ornament, and Banner lunged; she flipped back to the roof, bouncing, and Banner's hand passed so close it brushed her boot.
Banner was too fast for a thing that size, Tony thought, and brushed it away to focus on his work. He wired another of his explosive darts into the pillar, using the gauntlets to dig out mortar before shoving it in as deep as he could.
Outside, Steve's shield finally came whizzing out of the darkness, bounced off Banner's head and shoulder and the floor, and then Steve charged him, like some kind of idiot. Tony almost choked on fear, closed the feed for a second and then opened it, and watched a punch be soaked up by shield and Captain, watched Steve unleash punches and kicks, watched Natasha bound onto his broad green shoulder and loop a garrote around his neck. His fingers kept moving, kept digging and wiring, as fast as he dared.
Natasha at his throat and Steve beating at his chest and shoulders and belly with fist and shield lasted a full thirty seconds, and Tony could see the EMTs creeping over the wreckage like ants, making their way to Clint. Then Banner snapped the garrote with his bulging neck muscles, and Natasha tumbled backwards; Banner spun on her, and though Steve beat with frantic energy at his back and kidneys, he picked her up and threw her. Thank goodness, Natasha was more of an acrobat than Clint, she twisted improbably in midair and bounced off the wall, but she landed awkwardly with a hiss of pain. Electricity flew from her outstretched hand, and when Banner covered his eyes, Steve kicked him right in the nuts.
Tony stared down at his empty hands for almost five seconds before he realised he'd finished, and spun on his heel and ran up the long tunnel to street level.
Banner was one-on-one with Steve now, battering him down; Steve was retreating steadily, up Sixth Avenue and the plan was to drive him into the parking garage but that plan, Tony thought, didn't have a snowball's chance in hell with just the two of them.
Tony paused halfway between the garage entrance and the intersection, and waited. Clint was on a stretcher, now, they were carrying him away, and Natasha was wobbling on her feet; an EMT was trying to lead her away, but she wasn't having it, one hand waving him off, the other clamped to her head.
Steve bounded backwards into Tony's line of sight, moving fast; weaving like a boxer, footwork that Happy would have wept tears of joy for. He looked elegant, he looked deadly, two words Tony would never have thought to apply to Steve Rogers. Graceful, yes, there was an unconscious balance and poise to him even when he was fidgeting and blushing, but they way he moved now, with focus and intensity - Tony could have watched forever, and he stood and stared until Banner lurched fully into view, and Tony remembered the plan.
"Hey! Hey Banner!" Tony yelled, at a greatly amplified volume, and turned on all his lights, directing them at Banner. "Hey, asshole!" Target, fire, and a last missile went off under Banner's ass, sending fire and impact into tender places. He turned with a howl, and Tony gave him the finger, on the off-chance there was enough brain in there to recognise it.
Banner charged him, and Tony stood there, ignoring Steve's increasingly frantic demands to know what the hell was going on. Then he turned and ran, feeling the ground tremble under their combined footsteps, launched himself for extra speed and flew down the street, letting his repulsors blast Banner til he howled.
He pulled a sharp left down the tunnel, and for a moment he thought Banner wouldn't follow; he touched down, and then the bulky shape appeared in the entrance.
"Come on, Banner," he taunted, and splashed a repulsor beam on the wall next to him. Then he ran again, down into the rigged basement garage.
Banner gave chase, dodging round the pillars, shoving the few cars around like they were cardboard cutouts. Tony got between Banner and the exit, and realised he was going to have to leave it to the very last second to make his escape
Banner - Tony cast a glance up the tunnel - could Banner jump that? Surely the angle was too shallow. Shit, maybe it wasn't, not with the muscle Banner could bring to bear. And the repulsors wouldn't keep him down, he'd planned for a concerted assault to put Banner down for long enough to drop the building on him. His repulsors didn't do much against the Hulk, not enough force - unless -
"JARVIS, going to need to overload the reactor; channel the power through the front beam. On my mark."
He could feel the thrum in his chest, his very bones quivering, the reactor trying to shake itself apart as the reaction sped. He blew the charges, and the pillars began to grind and tilt, and Banner's bestial eyes narrowed as he looked about. Something was processing in that tiny skull; some self-preservation instinct fired, and Banner's knees bent, and he turned his eyes towards the exit.
A lance of blue-white crashed him back against the wall, sending a spider-web of cracks through the concrete; Tony's feet were braced, but even so he felt the armour shudder under the strain. Dust was pouring now, chunks of concrete falling away, he was going to find a way to pack more explosives onto this thing in future.
Banner, very slowly, began to push away from the wall. One step, two steps against the power of the beam, and extraneous systems began to shut down as all the power poured out, the joints locking solid, the feed shutting down. The heart should be the last to go - but -
"Override heart power-draw protocols; all power to the beam."
"Sir," was all JARVIS said, disapproving but obedient, and he wondered if he could feel the little pieces of shrapnel start to twitch and wriggle, drawn towards his heart as if he'd switched on a magnet there, instead of switching one off.
Banner was almost in arm's reach, too dumb to just step out of the beam, taking the shortest route towards his enemy. Broad green fingers brushed the armour, and with the power down, Tony couldn't even step away, just kept staring into Banner's poison green eyes.
And with a final grinding shriek, the first pillar went down and the building began to fall in.
Tony blinked, blurrily, back to consciousness. It was all blue-lit, and his chest was cold, and unfamiliar hands were touching him and he couldn't move - he made a garbled noise, and struggled, and then JARVIS' voice sounded.
"Mr Stark, please do not move. Dr Banner is still repairing your arc reactor."
"You let - Banner touch - " he slurred.
"Your AI pretty much made me," Banner muttered. "Said it was just a case of swapping in your spare palladium, but there were all these fused connections."
"Spares," he managed, and Banner sighed.
"It's just about done, yes. I'm putting the cover back on."
Of course, Banner wouldn't know palladium from a hole in the ground. If anyone was going to poke around in his chest, might as well be a geneticist.
After a few moments, the armour closed smoothly round him, and systems flickered to light before his eyes. He propped himself up on his elbows, and looked at Banner, who looked pale and sick and guilty. Well, good. It was lucky JARVIS had an emergency backup power supply.
He forced himself to a sitting position, and looked around.
"How are you still intact?" he asked Banner, who shrugged.
"I was green when it hit. I didn't... de-green... until afterwards. And then I was smaller, so we have a little space."
"Okay. Time to dig us out. JARVIS? Do a scan, here, let's talk options."
They finally erupted into a scene of great disorder, and the snapping of safeties being taken off. Looked like the army had finally regrouped. Banner's head popped up, and then ducked down, and there were megaphones and yelling. JARVIS helpfully flicked up a graph of Dr Banner's heartrate, and Tony seriously considered just flying off; they deserved each other. Steve would probably insist on cleaning up their messes again, though.
"Hey, Banner? You want to go for a ride?"
"I don't want to stay here." Sensible man. Tony hooked an arm around his torso.
"Deep, calming breaths," he advised, and they were off, spinning through the sky amid a flurry of poorly-aimed and ill-advised bullets. He spotted a SHIELD helicopter, and made for it. Agent Hill was in the pilot's seat; and sure enough, Fury was visible at the open side.
"Doctor Banner!" he yelled over the sound of the rotors. "Can I offer you a lift anywhere?"
"Do I have a choice?" Banner was already shifting in Tony's grip, turning towards the helicopter, and Tony edged closer. Fortunately, Agent Hill was an excellent pilot - Tony wasn't sure he'd ever seen a SHIELD agent do anything less than excellently, ever.
"Depends if you have more influence over Stark than I do," Fury said pleasantly, and tossed out a line. Banner caught it, and nodded, and Tony darted in and dumped him in before backing off. The helicopter rocked a little, but rose away with no trouble. "Go down and join the team," Fury yelled down to him and then tapped the centre of his chest. "We were unable to detect your power supply. I was sure you were too bloody-minded to die, but people with a higher opinion of you were worried."
"Stay still, Clint," Natasha hissed, and Clint pouted at her, ludicrously.
"But I wanna get up, I wanna go see," he complained. He'd managed to whine the medical staff into letting him sit in the van with the team, after Natasha had assured them she had a plethora of first aid qualifications and would watch him intently and unceasingly. She herself had been judged to not have a concussion, just a stinking headache and a sprained ankle.
Any other time, Steve would have smiled at Clint's morphine-addled behaviour; his injuries, thankfully, weren't serious. Deep bruising, cracked ribs, and a long but shallow incision in his thigh; but miraculously no concussion and nothing broken.
Today, though, he was trying not to think about the moment when the building had come down before his eyes, and he'd realised Tony wasn't coming out. He'd been calm at first, expecting that Iron Man would dig his way out, but he hadn't. And then - no power signature. No arc reactor. And if the arc reactor had been destroyed - well, it was embedded in his chest. It was hard to picture the wound that would destroy it, and yet leave him alive.
And so, Tony -
"Hey, it's Tony," Clint said brightly, and Steve spun round turned to see him swooping in, dusty and battered. He landed with none of his usual grace, and when he opened the faceplate, his cocky grin sat ill on a face that looked almost ghastly.
"Idiot," Steve said too sharply, stepping out of the van, and Tony's eyes flashed with hurt. Steve grabbed his arm, and then shook him, gently. "Don't - Tony, you could have been killed - "
"Yeah, thanks for saving our asses, Tony - " Tony's voice was jagged, and Steve growled and shook him again.
"I think what Steve is trying to say is 'Thank you very much, Tony, and if you ever do that again, we'll kill you.' Right?" Natasha patted him on the shoulder. "And I would like to be associated in that statement." Tony cast a startled glance down at her hand, as if expecting it to turn into a Vulcan nerve pinch, and then back at Steve, who nodded. Natasha stood on her toes and kissed his cheek - he flinched comically - and then she darted back into the van, probably to stop Clint trying to get out. Steve stared at Tony, who stared back.
"Yes. What Natasha said. You scared me. Us." He took a deep breath. "Please don't do it again, all right?"
"But it was the only - "
"Well maybe," Steve forced himself to moderate his tone. "Just, can we take a little time to think of other options first, you're a genius and all, maybe there are ways that don't involve you almost dying."
"We really don't need the bad publicity of you dying on the job," Natasha's voice floated out of the van. The corner of Tony's mouth twitched up a little.
"Yes, that too." Steve patted his arm gently. "Please don't die, Tony."
"Yeah, okay." Tony shrugged, and ducked his head. "You're all sentimental today. What about you Clint, got any touching words to share?"
"Uh, if you die, can I have your locker?" Tony grinned.
"You keep me grounded, baby."
Tony stripped off the armour and dumped it right there on the van floor, and then crawled over Clint into the back seat. Steve followed, and was promptly pressed into service as a pillow.
"Sleep," Tony said, and shut his eyes. After less than a minute, before Natasha had even strapped herself into the driver's seat, his body went slack. He would have slid right out of his seat if Steve hadn't caught him. Steve arranged him more comfortably, and dropped an arm over him to hold him in place.
He could feel Tony's heartbeat from the back; from the front, there was a strange thrumming sensation he assumed to be the arc reactor. Tony smelled of cologne and sweat. Asleep, he scowled a little and the hollows under his eyes were very visible.
Steve brushed a thumb over the point of one cheekbone. Too sharp; someone needed to take better care of him. He felt an odd twist of bitter fondness at the thought of someone taking care of Tony, making him slow down once in a while, dragging him out to see sun. He'd look at them the way he looked at Pepper sometimes, confused fondness like he wasn't sure how this person had dug their way into his life, and Steve would -
Steve would -
He shut his eyes, and let himself fill in the fantasy, himself slipping an arm around Tony and just holding him still for a while, coaxing him to bed with promises, soaking up all those sweet looks and compliments. It would be - it would be great, really. Perfect.
He opened his eyes, and found Tony looking back at him, giving him a sleepy smile. Steve smiled back, and leaned in for a very gentle, careful kiss. Tony's lips parted under his, and he murmured something that Steve kissed into silence.
Tony's hand on his shoulder patted him away, and Steve eased back reluctantly, a warm flutter in his belly.
"I think," Tony said very quietly, "There's been a misunderstanding."
Pepper had just happened to stop by SHIELD at 5am, because it was never too early to work on their tech contracts. She set up her laptop in the break room, because it had lots big screens and a coffee machine. Then she started refreshing CNN, because all the SHIELD agents were occupied - some kind of crisis that she had very little interest in, except for the fact it was interfering with her work. Of course.
The scene was largely dark and impenetrable, but Tony was very evident, to her relief, flying above the scene. He only occasionally needed to dodge a thrown car or a leaping monster. She made a mental note to say something nice later; a note she mentally tore up when he dropped a building on himself.
Still, it was only a small building. She knew better than to worry about him, and turned her attention to writing savage emails to their investors, which she trashed as soon as they were done. A great stress reliever; Natasha had taught her the technique back when she was faking being a personal assistant.
Sure enough, it was only twenty minutes before he erupted out of the wreckage and fled with an unidentified man tucked under his harm. There was no sign of the big green rage monster, so she could only conclude Tony had either captured or rescued Dr Banner.
Half an hour's furious typing later, she heard arguing from outside, and then Clint and Natasha burst through the door in a barely controlled stagger. Clint was firmly deposited in a chair, told to stay and then Natasha limped out of the door.
"You're hurt," Pepper said foolishly, and Clint nodded, and beamed at her.
"Injured! Nothing hurts right now." He slumped a little in his seat. "Well hello, big boy."
Pepper gazed at him in bewilderment, and he jerked his head towards the door. Steve edged slowly into view, looking -
"Oh my God, is everything okay?" Pepper jumped to her feet. "Is - " her breath caught. Jarvis could control the Iron Man suit after all, could easily bring it home if Tony were injured or - "Is Tony hurt?"
"Tony's fine," Steve said, and she collapsed into her chair. "Sorry, I - everything's fine." His attempt at a smile was so pathetic even Clint seemed to detect something wrong.
"What happened, Cap? President yell at you? Did you mistake a reporter for a Nazi? Did Stark pinch your butt on national - oh, was that it?"
Steve had visibly flinched at Tony's name, and he drew back in the doorway as if he was going to make a break for it.
"Just tell us, Steve, I can't take this," Pepper said, which was probably unfair but spared them hours of Clint's nagging.
"I kissed Tony," Steve rushed out, and Clint whooped.
"Finally! But why the long face? No sparks? He a bad kisser?"
"He turned me down," Steve said in a tiny voice. "Said I was a great guy, but I was a guy, and he wasn't into that."
There was a blank silence. Clint turned to Pepper, and spread his hands. She shook her head. Tony was bisexual, wasn't he? It was pretty solid rumour, he'd never denied it...
Admittedly, in all the years she'd been his PA she'd never shown a guy out, but she'd always assumed he just didn't bring guys home.
"Why - why would he do that?" Clint sounded as baffled as she felt. "He's so completely Froot Loops over you. Okay, wait, let me call Natasha, she can do girl stuff."
"Girl stuff?" Steve's mouth turned even further down, as Clint fumbled with his earpiece.
"You're being a girl. Emotions and stuff. I'm a manly kind of gun guy. Natasha? Stark's gone mad and dumped Steve, come fix it. Don't worry," he said to Pepper, "Natasha can fix anything."
"I suppose it's not entirely unexpected," Natasha said thoughtfully, after they'd topped up Clint's drug supply and plastered over everyone's minor injuries. Steve had a bandaid on his cheek to show willing, though all his scrapes and bruises were healed. Natasha had stolen some ice cream from the icebox, but ruled that no one was allowed vodka out of sympathy for Steve's metabolism.
Pepper would have complained, but Natasha slipped her a flask filled with brandy; she suspected the sympathy rule was to stop Clint topping off his morphine with booze.
"I find it unexpected," Clint shifted, awkwardly. Cap was about two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, which made him an uncomfortable thing to have draped across your lap; out of respect to his injuries, Clint had his knees. Natasha had Steve's head in her lap, and as Pepper hadn't been in a fight that night, she was in the middle, patting his hip in a soothing fashion and trying not to stare too obviously at the way tight blue leather outlined everything. "I thought everyone knew Stark likes cock."
"Except Stark," Natasha smoothed Steve's hair back from his face. It was probably a bad sign he had submitted to this with only token protests; Clint and Natasha had both been insistent that the team that snuggled together, stayed together. "He was raised in an atmosphere of near-toxic masculinity, MIT, hanging out with the military."
"Yeah, but Stark's always struck me as one of those guys who'll try anything."
"File reports him as pretty vanilla in his preferences, actually."
"I don't want to know that," Steve said sadly. Pepper kept quiet; it was nice to know SHIELD files weren't completely accurate. What Tony would do with a casual partner was different from what he'd do with a long-term partner, apparently - and she'd not breathe a word.
"Sh," Natasha shoved another spoonful of ice cream into Steve's mouth when he opened it. "His file says he's bisexual."
"You wrote most of that file," Clint pointed out, and she made a threatening gesture with the spoon.
"And I am never wrong about these things. He's in denial. Daddy issues from here to Mars. Some mommy issues too, but she's a more shadowy figure. Howard Stark was practically a performance artist."
"I liked Howard,"Steve mumbled around his ice cream.
"You like everyone. You like Tony. You're like some kind of liking savant," Clint contributed. "You probably think Natasha's a sweet girl."
Steve was conspicuously silent. Natasha grinned, and patted his head approvingly.
"He rarely has long-term relationships. His relationship with Potts was like a dog trying to play the tuba."
"What?" Steve rolled his eyes upwards.
"Now come on," Pepper interjected, but Natasha carried on.
"A lot of effort, and it would make a hilarious Youtube video, but no real understanding of the necessary concepts." Natasha shook her head. "He tried so hard it was almost painful to watch. One day I found him programming compliments into JARVIS to prompt him with at intervals."
"That sounds awesome," Clint said. "You think JARVIS could - "
"No, Clint," Pepper remembered he was injured, and didn't dig her elbow into his ribs. "Can we change - "
"Didn't he get her a private jet for her birthday?" Clint spoke over her.
"And a pony."
"She liked the pony," Steve said.
"She said she felt like the woman with the Monkey's Paw."
"Is she a supervillain?" Clint asked.
"Shut up. She was afraid of making a careless wish and Tony making it come true. Like she'd say she dreamed of being an astronaut and next day, she's on a NASA training program."
"Nah, Stark'd build his own rocket and launch them both to the Moon."
"That was a comment made in confidence." Pepper glared at Natasha, who shrugged unrepentantly.
"Everyone here has top-secret clearance."
"My romantic life does not have clearance for anything!"
"I don't see how this helps," Steve muttered. "He's still straight."
"No he's not," the three of them said in unison. Natasha tapped the spoon on his forehead; Steve endured it patiently.
"Tony's clearly besotted with you. We have to convince him of this, though; he seems to have formed some kind of weird attachment to his heterosexuality."
"If he doesn't want me, he doesn't want me. We can't force him to."
"He does want you," Clint said.
"Sure we could," Natasha said.
"He really wants you." Pepper added. "Even JARVIS thinks so. He's re-ordered his Things To Distract Tony list so suggesting calling you is at the top."
"Fury threatens him with confining you to quarters." Clint offered.
"And it works," Natasha tapped him with the spoon again. "He loves you so much he tried to give you his girlfriend, his best friend, his house - it's lucky you don't fit into his clothes, really."
"He took Steve to his tailor," Pepper put in, and Natasha nodded.
"See? Weird and creepy. Exactly how Stark shows affection."
"Not fair," Pepper said. "He's just... very individual."
"Eccentric," Clint patted Steve's ankle. "But the point is, you two are really, really gay for each other."
"I don't think he is." Steve shrugged. "He should know, right?"
"Don't you worry, Steve," Natasha curved over gracefully, and dropped a kiss on his temple. "We'll take care of this."
"There's no need," Steve said, but he was duly ignored.
"Are you kidding me?" Pepper said indignantly from the door, and Tony jumped. He'd managed to avoid everyone for two days by hiding out in the penthouse, but JARVIS had informed him that Fury had requested Iron Man's attendance.
Apparently, he'd also tattled to Pepper, because there was no good reason for her to be lurking around his armour.
"I'd love to chat, Pepper, but I have a thing. No, don't stand there, that's - are you trying to stop me putting the armour on? Dummy, move Pepper. Move Pepper. Traitor. You know what, Pepper, stopping me from going to base is probably treason, Fury called me in, Banner's probably eating the President or something, and here I am, helpless because a rogue CEO is blocking the - " he squinted. "The left thigh plate. I need that, Pepper. I can't go out with my left thigh exposed to danger."
Pepper stared, unimpressed, until he ran down.
"I don't want to date Steve." He folded his arms, and tried to stare her down. "I'm straight. He's a guy."
"You are all over him, Tony. 'Mixed signals' doesn't even cover it, you've been sending completely clear signals that you're besotted."
"He would never have even thought of it on his own," Tony snapped. "You put it into his head. You and Clint. And now he's hurt." That had been one of the top ten awkward and horrible conversations of his life; he couldn't place it more accurately, because that would have meant reviewing the others, but. Horrible. Steve had looked awful.
Pepper looked guilty. Good. This wasn't Tony's fault, he'd just... wanted to be friends, okay.
"Get off the armour, Pepper," he said, and she frowned at him.
"Are you going to keep ignoring Steve?"
"I'm just giving it a chance to cool off. You don't think I like it, do you?" He'd gotten used to having Steve around. He missed Steve.
"At least move back to the house. He thinks he's driven you out of your home. He feels terrible."
"And that is not my fault." Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I'll... I'll think about it, okay?"
"I'm sorry," she said and kissed his cheek as she passed.
"Pepper?" She paused in the doorway, and glanced back over her shoulder. "Why were you so sure I was gay?" If it was something he'd done while they were dating -
"Bisexual. I don't know. I always thought you were. It never really occurred to me to wonder."
He breathed out a little sigh of relief. As long as she didn't think he didn't love her.
"Okay, Pep. I have to go, okay? I'll see you soon."
Tony dutifully walked his suit down the steps to the containment level, and pushed through the swing doors into sub-level three.
He hesitated at the door, and Steve half-turned his head, and gave him a wan smile. He was in full Captain America regalia, all cleaned and repaired; no sign of the damage Banner had inflicted on him. Tony regretted having put the faceplate up. He plastered a grin on his face, and clumped down the hall towards him.
"Hey, chuckles, what's the sitch?"
"Banner," Steve nodded through the pane of glass. Banner lay in a hospital bed, hooked up to five kinds of monitors, the readings from which showed on a panel on the wall. He was held in place by massive padded shackles that wouldn't do shit if he he had an episode. Tony could also see the little raised nubs in the floor that would generate a hell of a forcefield if necessary; one of his own designs. He'd flatly refused to guarantee it Banner-proof.
"Okay, what about him?" Tony couldn't stop sneaking glances at him. He looked tired.
"His... Professor Ross, his friend, is visiting."
"Whoa. I thought policy was to isolate him?"
"It was. They've finally transferred the whole Banner situation to SHIELD jurisdiction. Fury says Banner gets visits." He didn't look at Tony at all, which felt completely wrong, keeping his eyes on the limp form in the bed. Of course, they were on duty, and Steve was very dutiful.
"Huh." Tony gnawed his lip. "So we..."
"We're here to make sure she doesn't get hurt. If it goes wrong, you grab her, fly her out."
"And you?"
"I contain the situation and await orders from Fury."
"Steve - "
"That's the plan. You get the injured civilian out of here."
Tony hesitated, feeling his palms sweat. Steve had gone hand-to-hand with the Hulk two days ago, of course, he'd be fine.
"How'd she get injured? Banner hurt her?"
"No, he - " he lifted his head, and after a moment Tony picked up the tapping of high heels, and then the pad of soft-soled boots. Fury had an aversion to his troops stamping their feet.
Professor Elizabeth Ross was spectacular. Even with her arm in a sling and a bruise mottling the whole right hand side of her face, she made Tony want to sit up and beg. She was flanked by two blank-faced SHIELD agents.
"Professor Ross," Steve said very politely, turning to face her. "How are you?"
"Shot." She came to a halt just in front of them, eyes cold. "I hope you plan to handle things better."
"Shot?" Tony echoed. "Who shot you?"
"The Army apparently needs better sharpshooters," Steve said curtly. "They intended to pick off Banner at a vulnerable moment. Instead, they wounded him severely, and inflicted a fortunately minor injury on Professor Ross."
"You're shitting me." Well, that explained why they'd wanted to borrow Clint.
"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes towards the Professor, whose face softened slightly at Steve's obvious discomfiture. Well, that explained why Fury had Steve leading this operation. One of those girls who's a sucker for a nice boy - and that explained a lot about Banner, for that matter. "Uh, Professor. In the event of an incident - "
"I'm not in any danger from Bruce." Her lips thinned, and Steve nodded.
"I'm sure Bruce wouldn't deliberately hurt you, ma'am. But we have security countermeasures in place - non-lethal ones - and we'd prefer to have you out of the way. In the event of an incident, Mr Stark will remove you from the room, and fly you clear. Please don't - scream, or anything. We don't want to escalate the situation."
"I think I'll cope." She advanced to the window, and bit her lip at the sight of Banner. "Is he - "
"Bruising and some cracked ribs. When he changed back, some debris fell into the gap he left. Not serious. He's under very mild sedation." Steve put a gentle hand on her uninjured arm, and guided her towards the door.
The heart monitor picked up slightly when Banner saw her. Tony tensed. She leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead.
"Betty, I'm sorry. Are they keeping you in here too?" His hand jerked against the restraints. "Was it - I thought you were dead."
"No, and no." She sat on the side of the bed, and took his hand in hers. "They've moved me into a new apartment, as my old one was destroyed, and they're keeping tabs on me. The wound's only minor, I'm starting classes again tomorrow."
"I'm sorry."
Her hand moved slowly through his hair, and the heart monitor's beeping slowed even more. He turned his head, and frowned at Steve.
"I remember - " there was a pause. "I'm sorry. I wasn't in control."
Steve nodded.
"Did I kill anyone?"
"No reported casualties." Steve's voice was very calm and assured. Even Tony felt soothed by it. "A few broken bones, some serious lacerations, but on the whole, it could have been far worse. The Army at least did an efficient job of evacuating the area."
"I'm sorry," Banner said again, and his voice cracked. The heart rate rose again, and Banner took two deep, slow breaths and it steadied again. "I thought I was safe. I didn't - I didn't expect - "
"Shh," Professor Ross turned to Steve. "Captain, could we have some privacy?"
Steve was still for a moment.
"I can turn off the audio surveillance and Mr Stark and I can wait outside," he said finally. "We have to maintain visual surveillance, I'm afraid."
"That'll do."
Steve closed the glass door firmly, and did something to the controls. Tony raised his eyebrows.
"Is that wise?"
"Fury put me in charge."
"Okay, you're allowed to do it. Is it wise?"
"You think Banner wants to hurt anyone?" He looked at Tony again, which was a surprising relief. He'd missed Steve's earnest blue gaze.
"You think he wanted to yesterday?"
"Professor Ross, on at least one occasion, has walked up to Banner in a fully transformed state, mid-rampage, and he protected her." Steve shrugged. "I really don't think she's going to excite him."
"She excites me," Tony said, and Steve flinched. "I mean - "
"She's very beautiful," Steve's face settled back into calm concern, and Tony suppressed the urge to shuffle his feet; the Iron Man stomping its feet would probably rile Banner up, and it wasn't like Tony had to feel guilty about finding a woman hot. "But I think Dr Banner finds her presence soothing. More than worrying about her, anyway."
"Sure, sure, and it sends a message to Banner, we're nice, thoughtful people who aren't here to shoot big guns at you." He shot a glance at Steve. "Fury tell you to involve me?"
"No, he gave me a free hand." Steve glanced back at Banner. "It was my idea, seeing as how Banner almost killed you and you still got him out of there."
"Trying to guilt him, huh? Sneaky."
"It doesn't seem like many people have tried to use their brains on this problem," Steve said with a touch of acerbity. "They just keep pouring on the firepower."
"I didn't have a lot of choice," Tony snapped, stung, and Steve's eyes snapped back to him.
"I didn't mean - "
"Sure you didn't."
"Of course I didn't, Tony. You had a plan. A plan that wasn't 'keep shooting him'. What you did worked, which is entirely different and didn't endanger a bunch of civilians." A beat. "Just yourself."
"Oh, hush." Tony glanced back into the room. Professor Ross' lips were pressed to Banner's brow; they were very still. "How's he coping?"
"Not so good." Steve looked at his feet. "I told him the stuff about the secondary mutation was just a line, so he was glad to hear that. But he lost control again. He thought he had it under control."
"Yeah, well, nothing brings out the animal in a guy like someone trying to murder your girlfriend." Tony spoke with feeling, and Steve cocked an eyebrow. "Tell you another time. Uh look, I'm sorry - "
"It's fine," Steve put up a hand as if to ward him off. "Let's forget about it."
Tony looked at him for a few moments, the unhappy set of his mouth, the unreasonably long lashes veiling his eyes. It was unfair; Steve deserved to be loved, and Tony -
"I just want you to be happy." His voice cracked, unexpectedly, and Steve's eyes widened.
"Tony, don't - please don't feel bad about this, it's not your fault - "
"Sorry," he muttered, and Steve put a hand on his shoulder, patted the armour.
"It's fine. It's really fine. I'll get over it; we're friends, and I appreciate that."
"Great." Steve meant it, Tony was sure; they'd have a great friendship; and Tony wasn't sure why the thought left him hollow inside.
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
Beta:
dorcas_gustineAuthor:
valtyrRating: R
Parings: Steve/Tony, Pepper/Tony, Clint and Natasha are open to interpretation.
Universe: Movieverse
Wordcount: 40k
A/N: This got out of hand. You can carve that on my tombstone.
Summary: Fury's a beautiful princess. Clint's plotting a Communist revolution. Rhodey's not sexy. Wall-E's not a documentary. Clint's not gay but he does give a great blowjob. This fic is not an AU.
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
Steve went from sleep to waking to dragging on his clothes in about two seconds. That was the emergency alarm; it had only gone off twice before, and both times had been drills.
He ran down the stairs to find Clint still awake - at 3am, really - and Natasha tying her sneakers.
"Where's Tony?"
"Already down in the basement," Natasha reported. "Said if the helicopter came before he was done, he'd catch us up."
It wasn't exactly Steve's favourite solution, but Tony refused to keep his armour at SHIELD, and Fury refused to keep the rest of the team's kit outside SHIELD.
They were only half-way to SHIELD when a familiar shape buzzed past, and the radio crackled to life.
"We should have our own helicopter, right? Save time, Fury wouldn't have to send a ride out."
"Awesome," Clint said. "Hey, go ahead and get us some coffee made."
"I'm not the maid, Clint."
"You're more like a robot butler, right?"
Tony flipped him the finger before showing them his heels.
There was coffee when they got there, although that was probably because Tony needed his own caffeine infusion rather than any consideration towards Clint.
"Banner's had an episode," Fury said as soon as Natasha shut the door to the briefing room, and Clint let out a whistle. "Get changed, I'll brief you as we go."
"There's not going to be any hushing this up," Tony said. His voice had little variation to it in the suit, and his body language was muffled; but still, Steve thought he was worried. "It's on TV, Twitter, Youtube."
"Right now, our priority is stopping him, not cleaning up," Fury said, and Steve half-turned away from the case containing his uniform.
"Sir? It's - it's ongoing?"
"Bruce Banner's taking Manhattan," Tony confirmed.
"So please, gentlemen - and Natasha - don't waste time primping." Fury talked about Banner, running over his observed powers, while Steve tried to breathe. He felt like he had asthma again; he felt like the first time he'd been pushed onto a stage.
He sealed the new costume, checked the belt, made sure gloves and boots were secure. Settled the helmet in place, and that only made him more nervous; sure, Captain America had be a symbol back in the day, but now, he was more than that. Steve had no idea how he was going to live up to - to himself.
They travelled in a car with big sliding doors and tinted windows; Tony was crammed in with them, to his clearly expressed annoyance. Agent Hill drove, and Fury maintained a furious argument with someone - possibly several someones - on his mobile phone.
They pulled up behind a cordon, and the sound of gunfire and explosions made Steve's heartbeat settle. That, he knew how to deal with. He reached for the door handle, and Fury blocked him.
"Sir?"
"Sit down, soldier. We don't have clearance." He folded his phone shut.
"Are you kidding me?" Tony put up his faceplate. "What, you've called us out to sit in the van?"
"This is an army operation," Fury said tightly.
"And the army are going to completely screw the pooch, again," Tony snapped.
"And that's why we're here, sitting in a van," Fury sat back. "Ready to provide support."
Tony growled, and slammed his faceplate down again. The ground trembled beneath them.
"Banner just smashed a tank into the ground," he reported after a moment. "You know when you smack a war-gaming table, and all those little plastic soldiers fall down?"
"Sir," Steve said, and Fury shook his head.
"We can't go off half-cocked, soldier. We'll just cause confusion, get people killed."
Tony tapped his metal boot on the floor.
"People are getting killed now. I'll go; everyone knows I'm - "
"You sit right there." Fury's tone sharpened. "You're on this team as long as I have some control over you; without that, you're a liability."
"Well, I'm sorry, maybe you guys are happy to sit there while Banner curb-stomps your political adversaries - "
"This is not about rivalries, Stark, this is about going through the proper channels. SHIELD is still proving its utility - "
"Utility to sit in vans! I'm going, I'm getting out - "
Steve put his hand on Tony's arm, and he stilled.
"Can you try again, sir? There has to be something we can do, even if only a support role." He met Fury's eyes steadily; he could see frustration there, and then calculation.
Fury opened his phone, and tapped it.
"Sir," he said. "Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I understand." There was a pause, and then Fury arched an eyebrow at Steve. "Captain America asked me to call you again, ask if there was anything he and his team could do. He doesn't like seeing soldiers getting their asses kicked while he sits around. No, sir, I'm not making fun, he asked me to call."
"They're getting slaughtered," Tony said dispassionately. "If they've got anything that can take Banner down, they can't deploy it in Manhattan."
"Let me speak to him," Steve said suddenly, and held out his hand. Fury, to his surprise, grinned an evil grin.
"I'll just pass you over to the Captain now." He shoved the phone into Steve's gloved hand, helped him fold the still-new leather around it.
"Hello?" Steve said foolishly, over the dammit Fury -
"Captain America?"
Steve took a breath, and spoke with the calm assurance he'd learned in the field.
"Sir, all our information says the army's lost control of the situation. We'd like to go in and contain Banner for long enough for them to regroup."
"You think you can contain that thing?"
"I do, sir." He shut his eyes. "With all due respect, the army's methods aren't working here, and never have. It's time to try something different."
"Pass me back to Director Fury."
"Sir." Steve handed the phone back.
"Yes sir," Fury gave him a thumbs-up. "Of course. Thank you, Mr President, I will." And he shut the phone. "We're on."
"That was the President?" Steve wasn't quite horrified. It wasn't like he'd never spoken to a President, of course, but he wasn't sure he'd been as polite as he should be.
"I bet he's a fanboy too." Tony shoved Steve's shoulder. "Come on, come on!"
They spilled out into the darkened street; the glass had shattered in all the streetlights. Tony took to the sky like a freed bird. Steve squinted after him, but soon lost him in the lights of Manhattan. At least the power wasn't out, then.
The three of them jogged down the road towards the noise of destruction. There was no gunfire now.
"He's heading west along 50th Street," Iron Man's voice crackled in his ear. "Turn down 49th, cut him off at the Avenue of the Americas, it'll make great headlines."
"Oh, shut up," Steve muttered, feeling that tightness in his chest again. If they screwed this up, after he'd spoken like that to the President - "Which one's the Avenue of the Americas?"
"Sixth."
"What's he doing?"
"Seems to be looking for people; keeps peering into cars, then throwing them aside. No one here, though; monitoring heat signatures. Army seem to be retreating in good order."
They hit Sixth Avenue at the same time as Banner; the noise he made covered the sounds of their steps. He advanced to the centre of the road, and straightened from his habitual hunch; Steve took a slow breath, assessing his size. Around ten foot, and most of the length in his powerful torso.
Banner was staring up at the ranked skyscrapers, sparkling against the darkened sky. For a moment, Steve thought his rampage was done, that he'd settle and change back into the skinny scientist, but instead he bellowed, a deep animal roar with an air of challenge, and turned to fold his hands in the roof of a car, crumpling sheet metal like cloth.
"Let's try and contain him here," Steve said. "Try not to trash the Rockefeller Centre. Tony, stay airborne."
"Gotcha."
Steve wasn't nervous, not anymore, the adrenaline was singing and the world was slowing around him. Banner threw the car at the nearest skyscraper, and Steve registered the sound of repulsor fire - Iron Man fielding it, no doubt. He was on Banner before he'd risen from his crouch, hurdled him, tapped one foot on a broad green shoulder as he flew, and Banner uncoiled far faster than anything that size had a right to.
But Steve had seen the tapes, already had his knees tucked to his chest to clear the hand that lashed out to grab him. Looking down, he saw black blood bloom on the bulging forearm, the trace of an arrow from Clint's bow, and Banner forgot Steve and turned savagely on to Clint, all teeth and fists and rage.
He'd only taken three striding steps before electricity crackled a halo round his head, and Natasha bounced off a car roof and landed on a streetlight, swarming up it so fast that by the time Banner had hold of the base, she was already leaping clear, catching hold of one of the flags that hung there - Japanese, Steve thought. Banner lifted the streetlight with a screech of tearing metal, and swung it, but too late - Natasha let go of the flag and flew into a tree, and Steve let his shield fly, sent it blurring past Banner's ear, off a wall, off the pavement, and then back past Banner, sending him spinning in apparent confusion.
Banner took a few steps, peering about him, and then caught sight of Clint. He lifted the street light high, and hurled it like a javelin; but blue light snacked it out of the sky, and Banner peered up at the circling glow of Iron Man.
"Tony, climb," Steve said sharply, seeing Banner's knees bend, and Tony jetted skywards as Banner leapt. Steve's heart caught in his throat for a second, but Banner landed empty-handed, and howled in anger.
"This is good." Steve let the shield loose again, running to catch it, seeing Natasha scaling the wall of a building, Clint moving low, arrow notched. "Keep this up, guys, we just need to keep him busy, he can't stay like this forever."
"We can't keep it up forever either," Tony said, and Steve saw a sweep of blue light above them. "At least, maybe the super soldier can, and Natasha's a cyborg, but Clint there - "
"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm a soldier. I'm worried about you, Tony, you're not as young as you used to be." Clint sent the next arrow into a windscreen, shattering it; Banner seemed to hold the car accountable, and punched it a few times.
"All right guys, focus. That's enough trash talk for at least ten minutes."
"Oh come on," Clint scuttled into the cover of a hydrant. "Can't I have Natasha's go?"
"I'll have Steve's, then."
"I'm saving mine." Natasha strolled out on the pole of the overhanging stoplight as casually as if it were a highway. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled; Banner stared about wildly, unable to make her out in the dimness. "Stark's right, though, we can't keep this up forever." As Banner passed under her, she jumped down onto his shoulder and ran down his spine, bouncing off and fleeing down the street. Banner gave chase, until he took a repulsor beam in the eyes and tripped to the floor with a horrible thud.
"Let's keep it up as long as we can," Steve said.
"As the bishop said to the actress," and Tony dived-bombed in front of Banner, swooping up and away as Banner leapt again.
As it turned out, they could keep it up for twenty-eight minutes. That was when a car hood buckled unexpectedly under Clint's feet, and in the second it took him to regain his balance, Banner's fist impacted him.
Clint flew, and smacked a wall, and Banner lunged after him; but Natasha bounded in and kicked him three times in the face before spinning off sideways, flipping off a lamp and landing on a car roof. Her face was set with terrifying rigidity.
Steve could see blood spreading dark on the pavement.
"Tony, can you get him?"
"If he's got internal injuries, that could be a really bad idea," Tony dived on Banner, dropping what looked like a car door on his head.
"Other option's moving the Hulk," a new voice came over the comms. Fury.
"Let's take him out," Tony said. "We've been dancing almost half an hour; the army had their chance, we have to get Clint out of here."
"You got a plan, Stark?" And Steve heard smugness overcome the worry in Tony's voice.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Tony's latest toy was spy drones; fist sized, flight-capable, packed with cameras. Their major disadvantages were that they handled like barges and he really didn't want anyone getting hold of them, which made them less than useful in most situations.
What they were good for was scouting round a fight. 51st Street had a nice, handy underground garage, and that was where Tony was now, while his little drone hovered ten feet above ground monitoring Banner. And Tony's team.
Natasha danced forward down the car to the hood ornament, and Banner lunged; she flipped back to the roof, bouncing, and Banner's hand passed so close it brushed her boot.
Banner was too fast for a thing that size, Tony thought, and brushed it away to focus on his work. He wired another of his explosive darts into the pillar, using the gauntlets to dig out mortar before shoving it in as deep as he could.
Outside, Steve's shield finally came whizzing out of the darkness, bounced off Banner's head and shoulder and the floor, and then Steve charged him, like some kind of idiot. Tony almost choked on fear, closed the feed for a second and then opened it, and watched a punch be soaked up by shield and Captain, watched Steve unleash punches and kicks, watched Natasha bound onto his broad green shoulder and loop a garrote around his neck. His fingers kept moving, kept digging and wiring, as fast as he dared.
Natasha at his throat and Steve beating at his chest and shoulders and belly with fist and shield lasted a full thirty seconds, and Tony could see the EMTs creeping over the wreckage like ants, making their way to Clint. Then Banner snapped the garrote with his bulging neck muscles, and Natasha tumbled backwards; Banner spun on her, and though Steve beat with frantic energy at his back and kidneys, he picked her up and threw her. Thank goodness, Natasha was more of an acrobat than Clint, she twisted improbably in midair and bounced off the wall, but she landed awkwardly with a hiss of pain. Electricity flew from her outstretched hand, and when Banner covered his eyes, Steve kicked him right in the nuts.
Tony stared down at his empty hands for almost five seconds before he realised he'd finished, and spun on his heel and ran up the long tunnel to street level.
Banner was one-on-one with Steve now, battering him down; Steve was retreating steadily, up Sixth Avenue and the plan was to drive him into the parking garage but that plan, Tony thought, didn't have a snowball's chance in hell with just the two of them.
Tony paused halfway between the garage entrance and the intersection, and waited. Clint was on a stretcher, now, they were carrying him away, and Natasha was wobbling on her feet; an EMT was trying to lead her away, but she wasn't having it, one hand waving him off, the other clamped to her head.
Steve bounded backwards into Tony's line of sight, moving fast; weaving like a boxer, footwork that Happy would have wept tears of joy for. He looked elegant, he looked deadly, two words Tony would never have thought to apply to Steve Rogers. Graceful, yes, there was an unconscious balance and poise to him even when he was fidgeting and blushing, but they way he moved now, with focus and intensity - Tony could have watched forever, and he stood and stared until Banner lurched fully into view, and Tony remembered the plan.
"Hey! Hey Banner!" Tony yelled, at a greatly amplified volume, and turned on all his lights, directing them at Banner. "Hey, asshole!" Target, fire, and a last missile went off under Banner's ass, sending fire and impact into tender places. He turned with a howl, and Tony gave him the finger, on the off-chance there was enough brain in there to recognise it.
Banner charged him, and Tony stood there, ignoring Steve's increasingly frantic demands to know what the hell was going on. Then he turned and ran, feeling the ground tremble under their combined footsteps, launched himself for extra speed and flew down the street, letting his repulsors blast Banner til he howled.
He pulled a sharp left down the tunnel, and for a moment he thought Banner wouldn't follow; he touched down, and then the bulky shape appeared in the entrance.
"Come on, Banner," he taunted, and splashed a repulsor beam on the wall next to him. Then he ran again, down into the rigged basement garage.
Banner gave chase, dodging round the pillars, shoving the few cars around like they were cardboard cutouts. Tony got between Banner and the exit, and realised he was going to have to leave it to the very last second to make his escape
Banner - Tony cast a glance up the tunnel - could Banner jump that? Surely the angle was too shallow. Shit, maybe it wasn't, not with the muscle Banner could bring to bear. And the repulsors wouldn't keep him down, he'd planned for a concerted assault to put Banner down for long enough to drop the building on him. His repulsors didn't do much against the Hulk, not enough force - unless -
"JARVIS, going to need to overload the reactor; channel the power through the front beam. On my mark."
He could feel the thrum in his chest, his very bones quivering, the reactor trying to shake itself apart as the reaction sped. He blew the charges, and the pillars began to grind and tilt, and Banner's bestial eyes narrowed as he looked about. Something was processing in that tiny skull; some self-preservation instinct fired, and Banner's knees bent, and he turned his eyes towards the exit.
A lance of blue-white crashed him back against the wall, sending a spider-web of cracks through the concrete; Tony's feet were braced, but even so he felt the armour shudder under the strain. Dust was pouring now, chunks of concrete falling away, he was going to find a way to pack more explosives onto this thing in future.
Banner, very slowly, began to push away from the wall. One step, two steps against the power of the beam, and extraneous systems began to shut down as all the power poured out, the joints locking solid, the feed shutting down. The heart should be the last to go - but -
"Override heart power-draw protocols; all power to the beam."
"Sir," was all JARVIS said, disapproving but obedient, and he wondered if he could feel the little pieces of shrapnel start to twitch and wriggle, drawn towards his heart as if he'd switched on a magnet there, instead of switching one off.
Banner was almost in arm's reach, too dumb to just step out of the beam, taking the shortest route towards his enemy. Broad green fingers brushed the armour, and with the power down, Tony couldn't even step away, just kept staring into Banner's poison green eyes.
And with a final grinding shriek, the first pillar went down and the building began to fall in.
Tony blinked, blurrily, back to consciousness. It was all blue-lit, and his chest was cold, and unfamiliar hands were touching him and he couldn't move - he made a garbled noise, and struggled, and then JARVIS' voice sounded.
"Mr Stark, please do not move. Dr Banner is still repairing your arc reactor."
"You let - Banner touch - " he slurred.
"Your AI pretty much made me," Banner muttered. "Said it was just a case of swapping in your spare palladium, but there were all these fused connections."
"Spares," he managed, and Banner sighed.
"It's just about done, yes. I'm putting the cover back on."
Of course, Banner wouldn't know palladium from a hole in the ground. If anyone was going to poke around in his chest, might as well be a geneticist.
After a few moments, the armour closed smoothly round him, and systems flickered to light before his eyes. He propped himself up on his elbows, and looked at Banner, who looked pale and sick and guilty. Well, good. It was lucky JARVIS had an emergency backup power supply.
He forced himself to a sitting position, and looked around.
"How are you still intact?" he asked Banner, who shrugged.
"I was green when it hit. I didn't... de-green... until afterwards. And then I was smaller, so we have a little space."
"Okay. Time to dig us out. JARVIS? Do a scan, here, let's talk options."
They finally erupted into a scene of great disorder, and the snapping of safeties being taken off. Looked like the army had finally regrouped. Banner's head popped up, and then ducked down, and there were megaphones and yelling. JARVIS helpfully flicked up a graph of Dr Banner's heartrate, and Tony seriously considered just flying off; they deserved each other. Steve would probably insist on cleaning up their messes again, though.
"Hey, Banner? You want to go for a ride?"
"I don't want to stay here." Sensible man. Tony hooked an arm around his torso.
"Deep, calming breaths," he advised, and they were off, spinning through the sky amid a flurry of poorly-aimed and ill-advised bullets. He spotted a SHIELD helicopter, and made for it. Agent Hill was in the pilot's seat; and sure enough, Fury was visible at the open side.
"Doctor Banner!" he yelled over the sound of the rotors. "Can I offer you a lift anywhere?"
"Do I have a choice?" Banner was already shifting in Tony's grip, turning towards the helicopter, and Tony edged closer. Fortunately, Agent Hill was an excellent pilot - Tony wasn't sure he'd ever seen a SHIELD agent do anything less than excellently, ever.
"Depends if you have more influence over Stark than I do," Fury said pleasantly, and tossed out a line. Banner caught it, and nodded, and Tony darted in and dumped him in before backing off. The helicopter rocked a little, but rose away with no trouble. "Go down and join the team," Fury yelled down to him and then tapped the centre of his chest. "We were unable to detect your power supply. I was sure you were too bloody-minded to die, but people with a higher opinion of you were worried."
"Stay still, Clint," Natasha hissed, and Clint pouted at her, ludicrously.
"But I wanna get up, I wanna go see," he complained. He'd managed to whine the medical staff into letting him sit in the van with the team, after Natasha had assured them she had a plethora of first aid qualifications and would watch him intently and unceasingly. She herself had been judged to not have a concussion, just a stinking headache and a sprained ankle.
Any other time, Steve would have smiled at Clint's morphine-addled behaviour; his injuries, thankfully, weren't serious. Deep bruising, cracked ribs, and a long but shallow incision in his thigh; but miraculously no concussion and nothing broken.
Today, though, he was trying not to think about the moment when the building had come down before his eyes, and he'd realised Tony wasn't coming out. He'd been calm at first, expecting that Iron Man would dig his way out, but he hadn't. And then - no power signature. No arc reactor. And if the arc reactor had been destroyed - well, it was embedded in his chest. It was hard to picture the wound that would destroy it, and yet leave him alive.
And so, Tony -
"Hey, it's Tony," Clint said brightly, and Steve spun round turned to see him swooping in, dusty and battered. He landed with none of his usual grace, and when he opened the faceplate, his cocky grin sat ill on a face that looked almost ghastly.
"Idiot," Steve said too sharply, stepping out of the van, and Tony's eyes flashed with hurt. Steve grabbed his arm, and then shook him, gently. "Don't - Tony, you could have been killed - "
"Yeah, thanks for saving our asses, Tony - " Tony's voice was jagged, and Steve growled and shook him again.
"I think what Steve is trying to say is 'Thank you very much, Tony, and if you ever do that again, we'll kill you.' Right?" Natasha patted him on the shoulder. "And I would like to be associated in that statement." Tony cast a startled glance down at her hand, as if expecting it to turn into a Vulcan nerve pinch, and then back at Steve, who nodded. Natasha stood on her toes and kissed his cheek - he flinched comically - and then she darted back into the van, probably to stop Clint trying to get out. Steve stared at Tony, who stared back.
"Yes. What Natasha said. You scared me. Us." He took a deep breath. "Please don't do it again, all right?"
"But it was the only - "
"Well maybe," Steve forced himself to moderate his tone. "Just, can we take a little time to think of other options first, you're a genius and all, maybe there are ways that don't involve you almost dying."
"We really don't need the bad publicity of you dying on the job," Natasha's voice floated out of the van. The corner of Tony's mouth twitched up a little.
"Yes, that too." Steve patted his arm gently. "Please don't die, Tony."
"Yeah, okay." Tony shrugged, and ducked his head. "You're all sentimental today. What about you Clint, got any touching words to share?"
"Uh, if you die, can I have your locker?" Tony grinned.
"You keep me grounded, baby."
Tony stripped off the armour and dumped it right there on the van floor, and then crawled over Clint into the back seat. Steve followed, and was promptly pressed into service as a pillow.
"Sleep," Tony said, and shut his eyes. After less than a minute, before Natasha had even strapped herself into the driver's seat, his body went slack. He would have slid right out of his seat if Steve hadn't caught him. Steve arranged him more comfortably, and dropped an arm over him to hold him in place.
He could feel Tony's heartbeat from the back; from the front, there was a strange thrumming sensation he assumed to be the arc reactor. Tony smelled of cologne and sweat. Asleep, he scowled a little and the hollows under his eyes were very visible.
Steve brushed a thumb over the point of one cheekbone. Too sharp; someone needed to take better care of him. He felt an odd twist of bitter fondness at the thought of someone taking care of Tony, making him slow down once in a while, dragging him out to see sun. He'd look at them the way he looked at Pepper sometimes, confused fondness like he wasn't sure how this person had dug their way into his life, and Steve would -
Steve would -
He shut his eyes, and let himself fill in the fantasy, himself slipping an arm around Tony and just holding him still for a while, coaxing him to bed with promises, soaking up all those sweet looks and compliments. It would be - it would be great, really. Perfect.
He opened his eyes, and found Tony looking back at him, giving him a sleepy smile. Steve smiled back, and leaned in for a very gentle, careful kiss. Tony's lips parted under his, and he murmured something that Steve kissed into silence.
Tony's hand on his shoulder patted him away, and Steve eased back reluctantly, a warm flutter in his belly.
"I think," Tony said very quietly, "There's been a misunderstanding."
Pepper had just happened to stop by SHIELD at 5am, because it was never too early to work on their tech contracts. She set up her laptop in the break room, because it had lots big screens and a coffee machine. Then she started refreshing CNN, because all the SHIELD agents were occupied - some kind of crisis that she had very little interest in, except for the fact it was interfering with her work. Of course.
The scene was largely dark and impenetrable, but Tony was very evident, to her relief, flying above the scene. He only occasionally needed to dodge a thrown car or a leaping monster. She made a mental note to say something nice later; a note she mentally tore up when he dropped a building on himself.
Still, it was only a small building. She knew better than to worry about him, and turned her attention to writing savage emails to their investors, which she trashed as soon as they were done. A great stress reliever; Natasha had taught her the technique back when she was faking being a personal assistant.
Sure enough, it was only twenty minutes before he erupted out of the wreckage and fled with an unidentified man tucked under his harm. There was no sign of the big green rage monster, so she could only conclude Tony had either captured or rescued Dr Banner.
Half an hour's furious typing later, she heard arguing from outside, and then Clint and Natasha burst through the door in a barely controlled stagger. Clint was firmly deposited in a chair, told to stay and then Natasha limped out of the door.
"You're hurt," Pepper said foolishly, and Clint nodded, and beamed at her.
"Injured! Nothing hurts right now." He slumped a little in his seat. "Well hello, big boy."
Pepper gazed at him in bewilderment, and he jerked his head towards the door. Steve edged slowly into view, looking -
"Oh my God, is everything okay?" Pepper jumped to her feet. "Is - " her breath caught. Jarvis could control the Iron Man suit after all, could easily bring it home if Tony were injured or - "Is Tony hurt?"
"Tony's fine," Steve said, and she collapsed into her chair. "Sorry, I - everything's fine." His attempt at a smile was so pathetic even Clint seemed to detect something wrong.
"What happened, Cap? President yell at you? Did you mistake a reporter for a Nazi? Did Stark pinch your butt on national - oh, was that it?"
Steve had visibly flinched at Tony's name, and he drew back in the doorway as if he was going to make a break for it.
"Just tell us, Steve, I can't take this," Pepper said, which was probably unfair but spared them hours of Clint's nagging.
"I kissed Tony," Steve rushed out, and Clint whooped.
"Finally! But why the long face? No sparks? He a bad kisser?"
"He turned me down," Steve said in a tiny voice. "Said I was a great guy, but I was a guy, and he wasn't into that."
There was a blank silence. Clint turned to Pepper, and spread his hands. She shook her head. Tony was bisexual, wasn't he? It was pretty solid rumour, he'd never denied it...
Admittedly, in all the years she'd been his PA she'd never shown a guy out, but she'd always assumed he just didn't bring guys home.
"Why - why would he do that?" Clint sounded as baffled as she felt. "He's so completely Froot Loops over you. Okay, wait, let me call Natasha, she can do girl stuff."
"Girl stuff?" Steve's mouth turned even further down, as Clint fumbled with his earpiece.
"You're being a girl. Emotions and stuff. I'm a manly kind of gun guy. Natasha? Stark's gone mad and dumped Steve, come fix it. Don't worry," he said to Pepper, "Natasha can fix anything."
"I suppose it's not entirely unexpected," Natasha said thoughtfully, after they'd topped up Clint's drug supply and plastered over everyone's minor injuries. Steve had a bandaid on his cheek to show willing, though all his scrapes and bruises were healed. Natasha had stolen some ice cream from the icebox, but ruled that no one was allowed vodka out of sympathy for Steve's metabolism.
Pepper would have complained, but Natasha slipped her a flask filled with brandy; she suspected the sympathy rule was to stop Clint topping off his morphine with booze.
"I find it unexpected," Clint shifted, awkwardly. Cap was about two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, which made him an uncomfortable thing to have draped across your lap; out of respect to his injuries, Clint had his knees. Natasha had Steve's head in her lap, and as Pepper hadn't been in a fight that night, she was in the middle, patting his hip in a soothing fashion and trying not to stare too obviously at the way tight blue leather outlined everything. "I thought everyone knew Stark likes cock."
"Except Stark," Natasha smoothed Steve's hair back from his face. It was probably a bad sign he had submitted to this with only token protests; Clint and Natasha had both been insistent that the team that snuggled together, stayed together. "He was raised in an atmosphere of near-toxic masculinity, MIT, hanging out with the military."
"Yeah, but Stark's always struck me as one of those guys who'll try anything."
"File reports him as pretty vanilla in his preferences, actually."
"I don't want to know that," Steve said sadly. Pepper kept quiet; it was nice to know SHIELD files weren't completely accurate. What Tony would do with a casual partner was different from what he'd do with a long-term partner, apparently - and she'd not breathe a word.
"Sh," Natasha shoved another spoonful of ice cream into Steve's mouth when he opened it. "His file says he's bisexual."
"You wrote most of that file," Clint pointed out, and she made a threatening gesture with the spoon.
"And I am never wrong about these things. He's in denial. Daddy issues from here to Mars. Some mommy issues too, but she's a more shadowy figure. Howard Stark was practically a performance artist."
"I liked Howard,"Steve mumbled around his ice cream.
"You like everyone. You like Tony. You're like some kind of liking savant," Clint contributed. "You probably think Natasha's a sweet girl."
Steve was conspicuously silent. Natasha grinned, and patted his head approvingly.
"He rarely has long-term relationships. His relationship with Potts was like a dog trying to play the tuba."
"What?" Steve rolled his eyes upwards.
"Now come on," Pepper interjected, but Natasha carried on.
"A lot of effort, and it would make a hilarious Youtube video, but no real understanding of the necessary concepts." Natasha shook her head. "He tried so hard it was almost painful to watch. One day I found him programming compliments into JARVIS to prompt him with at intervals."
"That sounds awesome," Clint said. "You think JARVIS could - "
"No, Clint," Pepper remembered he was injured, and didn't dig her elbow into his ribs. "Can we change - "
"Didn't he get her a private jet for her birthday?" Clint spoke over her.
"And a pony."
"She liked the pony," Steve said.
"She said she felt like the woman with the Monkey's Paw."
"Is she a supervillain?" Clint asked.
"Shut up. She was afraid of making a careless wish and Tony making it come true. Like she'd say she dreamed of being an astronaut and next day, she's on a NASA training program."
"Nah, Stark'd build his own rocket and launch them both to the Moon."
"That was a comment made in confidence." Pepper glared at Natasha, who shrugged unrepentantly.
"Everyone here has top-secret clearance."
"My romantic life does not have clearance for anything!"
"I don't see how this helps," Steve muttered. "He's still straight."
"No he's not," the three of them said in unison. Natasha tapped the spoon on his forehead; Steve endured it patiently.
"Tony's clearly besotted with you. We have to convince him of this, though; he seems to have formed some kind of weird attachment to his heterosexuality."
"If he doesn't want me, he doesn't want me. We can't force him to."
"He does want you," Clint said.
"Sure we could," Natasha said.
"He really wants you." Pepper added. "Even JARVIS thinks so. He's re-ordered his Things To Distract Tony list so suggesting calling you is at the top."
"Fury threatens him with confining you to quarters." Clint offered.
"And it works," Natasha tapped him with the spoon again. "He loves you so much he tried to give you his girlfriend, his best friend, his house - it's lucky you don't fit into his clothes, really."
"He took Steve to his tailor," Pepper put in, and Natasha nodded.
"See? Weird and creepy. Exactly how Stark shows affection."
"Not fair," Pepper said. "He's just... very individual."
"Eccentric," Clint patted Steve's ankle. "But the point is, you two are really, really gay for each other."
"I don't think he is." Steve shrugged. "He should know, right?"
"Don't you worry, Steve," Natasha curved over gracefully, and dropped a kiss on his temple. "We'll take care of this."
"There's no need," Steve said, but he was duly ignored.
"Are you kidding me?" Pepper said indignantly from the door, and Tony jumped. He'd managed to avoid everyone for two days by hiding out in the penthouse, but JARVIS had informed him that Fury had requested Iron Man's attendance.
Apparently, he'd also tattled to Pepper, because there was no good reason for her to be lurking around his armour.
"I'd love to chat, Pepper, but I have a thing. No, don't stand there, that's - are you trying to stop me putting the armour on? Dummy, move Pepper. Move Pepper. Traitor. You know what, Pepper, stopping me from going to base is probably treason, Fury called me in, Banner's probably eating the President or something, and here I am, helpless because a rogue CEO is blocking the - " he squinted. "The left thigh plate. I need that, Pepper. I can't go out with my left thigh exposed to danger."
Pepper stared, unimpressed, until he ran down.
"I don't want to date Steve." He folded his arms, and tried to stare her down. "I'm straight. He's a guy."
"You are all over him, Tony. 'Mixed signals' doesn't even cover it, you've been sending completely clear signals that you're besotted."
"He would never have even thought of it on his own," Tony snapped. "You put it into his head. You and Clint. And now he's hurt." That had been one of the top ten awkward and horrible conversations of his life; he couldn't place it more accurately, because that would have meant reviewing the others, but. Horrible. Steve had looked awful.
Pepper looked guilty. Good. This wasn't Tony's fault, he'd just... wanted to be friends, okay.
"Get off the armour, Pepper," he said, and she frowned at him.
"Are you going to keep ignoring Steve?"
"I'm just giving it a chance to cool off. You don't think I like it, do you?" He'd gotten used to having Steve around. He missed Steve.
"At least move back to the house. He thinks he's driven you out of your home. He feels terrible."
"And that is not my fault." Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I'll... I'll think about it, okay?"
"I'm sorry," she said and kissed his cheek as she passed.
"Pepper?" She paused in the doorway, and glanced back over her shoulder. "Why were you so sure I was gay?" If it was something he'd done while they were dating -
"Bisexual. I don't know. I always thought you were. It never really occurred to me to wonder."
He breathed out a little sigh of relief. As long as she didn't think he didn't love her.
"Okay, Pep. I have to go, okay? I'll see you soon."
Tony dutifully walked his suit down the steps to the containment level, and pushed through the swing doors into sub-level three.
He hesitated at the door, and Steve half-turned his head, and gave him a wan smile. He was in full Captain America regalia, all cleaned and repaired; no sign of the damage Banner had inflicted on him. Tony regretted having put the faceplate up. He plastered a grin on his face, and clumped down the hall towards him.
"Hey, chuckles, what's the sitch?"
"Banner," Steve nodded through the pane of glass. Banner lay in a hospital bed, hooked up to five kinds of monitors, the readings from which showed on a panel on the wall. He was held in place by massive padded shackles that wouldn't do shit if he he had an episode. Tony could also see the little raised nubs in the floor that would generate a hell of a forcefield if necessary; one of his own designs. He'd flatly refused to guarantee it Banner-proof.
"Okay, what about him?" Tony couldn't stop sneaking glances at him. He looked tired.
"His... Professor Ross, his friend, is visiting."
"Whoa. I thought policy was to isolate him?"
"It was. They've finally transferred the whole Banner situation to SHIELD jurisdiction. Fury says Banner gets visits." He didn't look at Tony at all, which felt completely wrong, keeping his eyes on the limp form in the bed. Of course, they were on duty, and Steve was very dutiful.
"Huh." Tony gnawed his lip. "So we..."
"We're here to make sure she doesn't get hurt. If it goes wrong, you grab her, fly her out."
"And you?"
"I contain the situation and await orders from Fury."
"Steve - "
"That's the plan. You get the injured civilian out of here."
Tony hesitated, feeling his palms sweat. Steve had gone hand-to-hand with the Hulk two days ago, of course, he'd be fine.
"How'd she get injured? Banner hurt her?"
"No, he - " he lifted his head, and after a moment Tony picked up the tapping of high heels, and then the pad of soft-soled boots. Fury had an aversion to his troops stamping their feet.
Professor Elizabeth Ross was spectacular. Even with her arm in a sling and a bruise mottling the whole right hand side of her face, she made Tony want to sit up and beg. She was flanked by two blank-faced SHIELD agents.
"Professor Ross," Steve said very politely, turning to face her. "How are you?"
"Shot." She came to a halt just in front of them, eyes cold. "I hope you plan to handle things better."
"Shot?" Tony echoed. "Who shot you?"
"The Army apparently needs better sharpshooters," Steve said curtly. "They intended to pick off Banner at a vulnerable moment. Instead, they wounded him severely, and inflicted a fortunately minor injury on Professor Ross."
"You're shitting me." Well, that explained why they'd wanted to borrow Clint.
"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes towards the Professor, whose face softened slightly at Steve's obvious discomfiture. Well, that explained why Fury had Steve leading this operation. One of those girls who's a sucker for a nice boy - and that explained a lot about Banner, for that matter. "Uh, Professor. In the event of an incident - "
"I'm not in any danger from Bruce." Her lips thinned, and Steve nodded.
"I'm sure Bruce wouldn't deliberately hurt you, ma'am. But we have security countermeasures in place - non-lethal ones - and we'd prefer to have you out of the way. In the event of an incident, Mr Stark will remove you from the room, and fly you clear. Please don't - scream, or anything. We don't want to escalate the situation."
"I think I'll cope." She advanced to the window, and bit her lip at the sight of Banner. "Is he - "
"Bruising and some cracked ribs. When he changed back, some debris fell into the gap he left. Not serious. He's under very mild sedation." Steve put a gentle hand on her uninjured arm, and guided her towards the door.
The heart monitor picked up slightly when Banner saw her. Tony tensed. She leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead.
"Betty, I'm sorry. Are they keeping you in here too?" His hand jerked against the restraints. "Was it - I thought you were dead."
"No, and no." She sat on the side of the bed, and took his hand in hers. "They've moved me into a new apartment, as my old one was destroyed, and they're keeping tabs on me. The wound's only minor, I'm starting classes again tomorrow."
"I'm sorry."
Her hand moved slowly through his hair, and the heart monitor's beeping slowed even more. He turned his head, and frowned at Steve.
"I remember - " there was a pause. "I'm sorry. I wasn't in control."
Steve nodded.
"Did I kill anyone?"
"No reported casualties." Steve's voice was very calm and assured. Even Tony felt soothed by it. "A few broken bones, some serious lacerations, but on the whole, it could have been far worse. The Army at least did an efficient job of evacuating the area."
"I'm sorry," Banner said again, and his voice cracked. The heart rate rose again, and Banner took two deep, slow breaths and it steadied again. "I thought I was safe. I didn't - I didn't expect - "
"Shh," Professor Ross turned to Steve. "Captain, could we have some privacy?"
Steve was still for a moment.
"I can turn off the audio surveillance and Mr Stark and I can wait outside," he said finally. "We have to maintain visual surveillance, I'm afraid."
"That'll do."
Steve closed the glass door firmly, and did something to the controls. Tony raised his eyebrows.
"Is that wise?"
"Fury put me in charge."
"Okay, you're allowed to do it. Is it wise?"
"You think Banner wants to hurt anyone?" He looked at Tony again, which was a surprising relief. He'd missed Steve's earnest blue gaze.
"You think he wanted to yesterday?"
"Professor Ross, on at least one occasion, has walked up to Banner in a fully transformed state, mid-rampage, and he protected her." Steve shrugged. "I really don't think she's going to excite him."
"She excites me," Tony said, and Steve flinched. "I mean - "
"She's very beautiful," Steve's face settled back into calm concern, and Tony suppressed the urge to shuffle his feet; the Iron Man stomping its feet would probably rile Banner up, and it wasn't like Tony had to feel guilty about finding a woman hot. "But I think Dr Banner finds her presence soothing. More than worrying about her, anyway."
"Sure, sure, and it sends a message to Banner, we're nice, thoughtful people who aren't here to shoot big guns at you." He shot a glance at Steve. "Fury tell you to involve me?"
"No, he gave me a free hand." Steve glanced back at Banner. "It was my idea, seeing as how Banner almost killed you and you still got him out of there."
"Trying to guilt him, huh? Sneaky."
"It doesn't seem like many people have tried to use their brains on this problem," Steve said with a touch of acerbity. "They just keep pouring on the firepower."
"I didn't have a lot of choice," Tony snapped, stung, and Steve's eyes snapped back to him.
"I didn't mean - "
"Sure you didn't."
"Of course I didn't, Tony. You had a plan. A plan that wasn't 'keep shooting him'. What you did worked, which is entirely different and didn't endanger a bunch of civilians." A beat. "Just yourself."
"Oh, hush." Tony glanced back into the room. Professor Ross' lips were pressed to Banner's brow; they were very still. "How's he coping?"
"Not so good." Steve looked at his feet. "I told him the stuff about the secondary mutation was just a line, so he was glad to hear that. But he lost control again. He thought he had it under control."
"Yeah, well, nothing brings out the animal in a guy like someone trying to murder your girlfriend." Tony spoke with feeling, and Steve cocked an eyebrow. "Tell you another time. Uh look, I'm sorry - "
"It's fine," Steve put up a hand as if to ward him off. "Let's forget about it."
Tony looked at him for a few moments, the unhappy set of his mouth, the unreasonably long lashes veiling his eyes. It was unfair; Steve deserved to be loved, and Tony -
"I just want you to be happy." His voice cracked, unexpectedly, and Steve's eyes widened.
"Tony, don't - please don't feel bad about this, it's not your fault - "
"Sorry," he muttered, and Steve put a hand on his shoulder, patted the armour.
"It's fine. It's really fine. I'll get over it; we're friends, and I appreciate that."
"Great." Steve meant it, Tony was sure; they'd have a great friendship; and Tony wasn't sure why the thought left him hollow inside.
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
no subject
no subject
no subject