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cap_ironman2012-06-22 05:51 pm
tresmaxwell.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2012-06-22 05:51 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Worshiping at the Modern Altar Chapter 10, NC-17
Universe: Movie
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence, Language, and Graphic Sex, yay!
Beta: None
Summary: How much blood does it take to repay those who have harmed you?
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Tony, plus loads of other characters... like everyone.
Word Count: About 5,700
Chapter Nine - LINK
Chapter Ten - A Payment of Flesh
Sorry this one took a little longer, it's been a rough week...
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Steve sat with his elbows on his knees and his chin on top of his interlaced fingers. He'd pulled Tony's oversized leather chair out of his closet, where the billionaire kept it to put on his shoes, and over to the side of the bed an hour or so after Tony finally went to sleep.
The dark-haired genius had desperately tried to stay awake for Fury's debrief and the ensuing hunt for the missing trucks, but Steve had barely managed to catch him when he passed out on his feet. It was the inevitable result and Steve was thankful he'd been expecting it. It helped that Steve hadn't strayed more than ten feet from the other man since they'd reconciled. And it wasn't the first time he'd seen Tony work himself until he'd dropped.
Steve couldn't quite bring himself to leave Tony alone. Fury and the others knew they could come get him should something arise, but he wanted to ensure that Tony got as much rest as he could. Currently, Tony was sprawled out in the middle of the bed on his stomach, his face half-hidden by a large, goose down pillow. The mattress absorbed the reactor's glow, leaving the room darker than it normally was.
Despite Steve getting up to adjust the sheets up around Tony's shoulders several times, they were tangled in the man's legs again. He assumed Tony would be cold since Steve had stripped him to his tiny, black underwear, but he'd given up on it. Tony was just as stubborn asleep as he was awake.
With as exposed as Tony was, Steve could see the bruises speckling his back and extremities as if Tony was turning into a leopard. Steve didn't know which ones he'd inflicted and which ones were from Tony's struggle with Scorn. Thinking about hauling off and hitting Tony made Steve open his hands and press his face into them. He rubbed at his eye sockets roughly, the act replaying itself behind his closed lids. Tony had given just as good as he'd received, but Steve never should've lost his temper to such an extreme degree.
"Stop thinking, I can smell it from here," Tony grumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
Steve dropped his hands to dangle between his knees. He hadn't expected Tony to be awake until morning, but he should've known better. The younger man could live off catnaps. Rotating his body so they had a little light, Tony studied him with bleary eyes.
"You need to go back to sleep."
"How long have I been out?"
Steve leaned forward to see the digital clock on the nightstand, "Only four hours."
"Plenty," was Tony's answer as he pushed himself upright. "Where are we in finding Scorn?"
"They think they've located two of the trucks, but they were both empty. Right now, they're putting together a list of suspects for you to go through."
Tony nodded, his gaze unfocused, his body slumped, and his motions slow. There was no way four hours was 'plenty' Steve thought and got out of the chair. If he didn't act before Tony's feet hit the floor, he'd never stop the philanthropist's forward motion. As soon as Tony made plans and was working to fulfill them, he couldn't be convinced to sit still. Toeing off his boots as he crawled onto the bed, Steve intercepted him with an arm around his waist.
Tony griped, "Steve, don't," but didn't fight him.
Steve shoved the pillows up against the wall (they'd stopped installing headboards after Steve broke the fourth one) and settled against them, drawing Tony so his back was flush to Steve's chest. Despite the resistance Tony feigned, he left his head on Steve's collarbone and melted into his arms. Steve drew his knees up on either side of Tony, certain the smaller man would drift off again in minutes if given the opportunity.
Gently carding his fingers through the dark head of hair, Steve let his mind wander as he listened to Tony's breathing even out. He let his thumb trail down Tony's sideburn and along his jaw. He'd hit him hard when Tony first landed in the SHIELD jet and he needed to be sure he hadn't hurt him too badly. There weren't any knots of angry tissue, just a few days worth of stubble.
Tony's hand caught his. He brought Steve's arm around in front of him, kissing the palm, "Seriously, Steve. Stop thinking about it."
Steve sighed. Not particularly surprised Tony was still awake, he admitted, "I can't help it, I never should've hit you... We nearly killed each other."
"No we didn't," Tony groaned, each word heavy with his frustration. "You never would've taken it that far and I was holding back everything that could do serious damage. Trust me, if we wanted to kill each other, we would have."
As always, Steve thought Tony made an excellent point, but it didn't change the fact that he'd smacked his boyfriend around as if he was a punching bag. Domestic violence didn't even begin to cover it, mostly because domestic implied that they were both normal. Steve was certain that the statutes on that didn't get into super strength or mechanically enhanced abilities. Whatever it was classified as, it wasn't okay with Steve. He had controlled his strength, but he'd still hit him.
"I punched you..." his mumble was barely audible.
An aggravated rumble said Tony had heard him, "I shot you, so we're even."
"You turned down the power," Steve pointed out.
Tony sat forward enough to get on his side, bracing a hand on the wall by Steve's head. His chocolate eyes flicked over Steve's face, "And you wouldn't touch me unless I was wearing my armor. Iron Man is used to getting dented up, a hammer and a quick buff and shine will make it seem like it never happened."
Tony pressed his chest against Steve, blocking out the light as he assaulted his lips. Steve's arms gravitated to Tony's slim waist. As he was losing himself to the touch and tease of the other man's tongue, Tony withdrew.
"I'm glad things happened the way they did."
"What, why?"
Tony's smile was sly sex, "Because the make-up fuck was hotter than a rocket launch." The grin faded and Tony averted his gaze, "And if it hadn't gone so wrong, if you hadn't tried to walk away, I never would've realized what I have."
The admittance was softly spoken and made Steve's heart ache with how open and honest it was. They'd turned some kind of corner in their relationship. They weren't casual boyfriends anymore, they'd taken the first tentative step into something deeper. If Tony's expression was anything to go by, he recognized it too and it scared him.
Aside from his connection with Pepper, Steve didn't suppose Tony had ever been this close to another human being. When he'd met him, Steve thought it was because Tony didn't care about anyone but himself. Now, he could see that Tony stayed at a distance to avoid getting hurt. Steve wasn't sure what source the fear traced back to, but he'd put money on Tony's emotionally distant father.
"Well," Steve brushed Tony's bangs off his forehead, smiling at the way the younger man leaned into his touch. "I think you might be stuck with me, so remember you said that."
"Promises, promises," Tony hummed and grazed his teeth over the taut muscle in Steve's throat.
Steve's brow dipped slightly at the joke. It was Tony making light of things as always, but there was an undertone. Part of Tony wasn't convinced. He was hiding it effectively, but Steve had picked up most of Tony's tells since they'd started dating.
Lifting his back off the pillows so Tony could strip his shirt over his head, Steve asked, "Would you believe me if I bought you a ring?" Steve worried it was too much too quickly for the skittish billionaire, but he wanted Tony to have the comfort of knowing he would be there, not just leave him guessing.
Tony sat up so quickly that his head smacked into the underside of Steve's jaw. His teeth clacked together from the hit and he heard Tony hiss, "Shit..." Their eyes met, Tony's bewildered and Steve's sincere.
"This isn't a formal proposal or anything, I'd make sure to do that the right way, so you don't have to give me an answer now," Steve tripped over his words, his cheeks darkening. It had played out a little differently in his mind.
"Are you... are you being serious?"
Steve dropped his head against the wall, frowning deeply. Tony's reaction made him regret saying it. He didn't need more from Tony, he'd take anything he could get, but there was no way he could dismiss the comment as his own attempt at humor. Tony would see right through it. "I-"
"Don't buy rings." As hurt flared in Steve, Tony hastily added, "I want to make them."
A thousand thoughts and emotions thundered through Steve. He hoped Tony wouldn't make them too flashy or complicated, but he wondered what he was capable of crafting. Behind that were the thoughts of moving out of his apartment and having to give up his home in Brooklyn. Briefly, he also wondered how he was going to convince Tony to let him put up more decorations in the stiflingly modern penthouse. Twined in all of it was joy.
Grinning wider than he had in a long time, Steve tumbled with Tony across the bed. He tried to be mindful of his injuries as he kissed him. Tony groaned and spread his legs, letting Steve settle between them. There was a good chance that Tony was still sore from their rough session at the factory, but Steve knew he would stop him if he decided it was too much. Even sore or tired, Tony lived in a state of horny. Steve loved it.
Tony laughed breathlessly when Steve showered kisses on his face and shoulders, "It'll only save you a couple-hundred bucks, relax. We still have to buy the gold. Or, you know," Tony caught his face, "I could use gold-titanium, I do have a lot of it hanging around the shop."
Steve's nose wrinkled as he thought about it, "It wouldn't be red, would it?"
"You do know that part is painted, right?"
The way Tony's suit took damage told him that. Scars across the flame-bright sections of Iron Man always revealed the gold underneath. He smirked and gave Tony a wink, "I'm just saying that my ring better not look like a miniature version of your suit. And if it does, yours had better be red, white, and blue with a little star in the middle."
Tony took his own lower lip between his teeth, sniggering, "That would be tacky. Are you sure I can convince you to let me put a little LED light in the center where the diamond should go? I could engrave it with 'This fantastic ass belongs to Iron Man'."
Oddly, Steve could picture it all too easily. He wouldn't put it past Tony to make it. Refusing to give the suggestion power, Steve said, "Too bad vibranium was never replicated, it would be fitting."
"Actually," Tony wrapped a leg around Steve's waist and dragged him closer. He took Steve's wrist, lifting his hand to the arc reactor, "It was eventually rediscovered. When dad couldn't reproduce the results of the original experiment, he left a blueprint for me to follow."
Mouth opening, then closing, then opening again, Steve never found the proper vocabulary to phrase his question. He looked down at the brilliant piece of machinery, his thumb grazing over it unconsciously, lovingly. In the center of the device was the source of the light, a small triangle of metal Steve had never bothered to identify. Science wasn't really his forte. He was decent enough at it in school, he knew all of his elements and where they sat on the periodic table, but he'd never given the construction of Tony's arc much thought.
"This is vibranium?" Steve finally asked.
The words were quiet, full of awe. It was one more link in the chain between them, links that had been forming long before the younger Stark was born. It was strange to think that the metal that protected him also protected Tony. The actual application couldn't have been farther apart, but the basis was the same. It kept them alive.
"You've probably read it in my file, but the palladium I used first didn't... agree with my body, so I had to find a replacement," Tony explained as he took off his underwear. He put his finger in the elastic band and shot them across the room.
Steve looked up from unfastening his pants. As much as he wanted to get into Tony, this was more important. Ever since Colonel Rhodes told him about the deadly arc while they were in the elevator, Steve had craved details. He let Tony chatter, which Tony was very good at doing. Without interruption, he could babble for an hour or more on one topic.
"I didn't know it was vibranium until you showed up with that shield and I started comparing properties. When you think about the torsion stiffness characteristics of-"
"Tony, you're not speaking English anymore."
"I forget you're not Banner. His pillow talk is much more intelligent," Tony teased as he arched his body against Steve.
Ignoring the Banner comment, Steve clamped his hands over Tony's hips to still them. There was so much he wanted to know, but Tony didn't appreciate being held down. The smaller man hooked his other leg over Steve's low back and squeezed him with his thighs.
"Don't stop. God, baby, please don't stop," Tony whined, the sounds skimming down Steve's body and catching fire in his groin. Stark was already getting hard, the firm line of his cock pressed against Steve's abdomen.
Somehow, Steve managed to refrain from grinding Tony into the mattress, "What was the palladium doing to you?"
"If you don't fuck me in the next ten seconds, I might kill you."
"Tell me."
Tony's glare was one Steve was incredibly familiar with. The sharp arch of his left brow and the way his mouth pulled to the side shouted, 'Are you kidding?' When Steve didn't back down, Tony growled, "You do realize you're cockblocking yourself here."
Steve wasn't familiar with the twenty-first century term, but he could guess what it meant. Quietly, Steve said, "Your buddy told me about it, that it was killing you and that was why you gave up one of your suits. You wanted him to continue as Iron Man after you were gone. It was really bad, wasn't it?"
"Rhodey's dead. He's absolutely dead," Tony groaned and let his head flop onto the pillow. "Can't we have post-engagement, afterglow sex and forget about the palladium? Since I already know the answer to that, roll over."
Steve obliged and slid out from between Tony's legs when he was released. As he got onto his back, Tony abruptly straddled his waist. He started to argue and Tony's tongue filled his mouth, silencing him. He grabbed the prominent curve of Tony's hipbones, not to stop him this time, but to steady him. As Tony sat up, Steve let his palms wander over the length of Tony's strong thighs. The play of muscle under the pale skin was nearly mesmerizing.
Tony shimmied down Steve's body so he could get at the button on his slacks. Reaching between the 'V' of his own legs, Tony dragged the zipper down so slowly that Steve felt sweat spring up along his hairline. Pushing the slacks just far enough to free Steve's erection, Tony lifted onto his knees and got positioned over him. He was still slick and loose from earlier, making the entry a smooth glide.
Steve hands tightened compulsively on Tony and he had to force them to relax so he wouldn't leave any more bruises. There were enough contusions on the other man already. Tony's heat engulfed him as he settled onto Steve's hips. While Steve could only think of thrusting up into the inviting body above him, Tony was able to continue with his explanation.
"The output from the palladium was enough to power the suit, but the discharge from the reaction saturated my bloodstream. I- couldn't control the levels," Tony clarified and watched Steve through hooded eyes. Putting both hands back, Tony pressed on Steve's thighs to stifle his bucking. "You lost your chance, big guy. Now sit still."
Tony canted his hips as he rode Steve leisurely, coming down at the perfect angle each time. It was almost impossible for Steve not to be involved in sex. Every urge he had screamed to take over and pump into Tony fast and hard. They weren't temperate like this, like orgasm was the last thing either of them wanted.
Taking a deep breath, Steve settled into the pillows and let himself drink in Tony's long, lean frame as the younger man worked him. It was good, especially the view, and the hot tingle that prickled along his nerve endings was reminiscent of the blinding pleasure he felt when he took Tony more forcefully. The pace Tony set let Steve keep a head on his shoulders.
While he stroked the insides of Tony's thighs, he processed what he'd heard about the damaging core, "S- so that's when you started looking for a replacement element?" Minutely, Steve thrust into Tony's next downward stroke.
"There wasn't one," Tony tossed his head back and gasped. "Fury got involved, started shoving all my... ughn- all my old man's stuff at me, said there was an answer. Fuck, Steve, I told you to sit still."
Steve smiled, feeling control returning to him as he pushed up to meet Tony's hips again, "Go on, you found the blueprints for vibranium in the material Fury brought you?"
"No, I'd had it in storage for years. Damn bastard built it into the Expo model."
"Smart."
Tony snorted, his eyes squinting shut in concentration, "Stark men are nothing if not intelligent. Unfortunately, it comes with long list of character defects."
"I'm familiar with them," and he was. Extremely familiar.
Steve could safely say Tony's drinking habits had slowed down to something that remotely resembled normal and Steve could only hope it was his influence over the man. When they imbibed together Tony didn't overdo it. As long as he wasn't sulking about something alone, Tony managed to stay sober most days. The narcissism still needed work, but Steve knew billionaires had to take baby steps. Besides, Tony's self-assuredness was part of what Steve liked about him.
A shudder shook Tony at Steve's next thrust, making his rhythm falter. His eyebrows tilted up and his mouth fell open. The low keening moan Tony released crawled across Steve like a living thing, heating his skin and forcing all of his remaining blood to drain lower. Bracing his feet on the bed to get some leverage, Steve pulled Tony down onto his cock and pushed up to meet him.
Steve kept his eyes trained on Tony as he pounded into him. He lived for this moment, when the unshakable Tony Stark completely fell apart in his hands. From their first time together, Steve had found a certain pride in the way he could reduce a man like Tony to whimpered pleading.
It was so far beyond anything he was capable of before the serum. Before, he just prayed he could make it through sex without having an asthma attack. On days when he missed the world he used to know, he reminded himself that this was the trade-off, having Tony writhing against him like he was the only person alive capable of giving him release.
Tony's fingers threaded in Steve's, gripping so fiercely his knuckles turned white. Tony started to speak, but couldn't make any noise beyond airy moans. It didn't matter. Steve knew what he was going to say. He could feel how close Tony was in the tension of his thighs and the tightening of his interior walls. If Steve so much as grazed his cock, the younger man would go off. It bobbed within easy reach, red and engorged and leaking profusely. A trail of opaque precome ran all the way to the nest of dark curls.
Steve wanted to hold out, but wanted to give Tony what he needed even more. When he loosened his hold on one side, Tony's hand stayed tangled with his. Reversing their grip so Steve's larger palm engulfed the back of Tony's hand, Steve guided both of them to Tony's cock. The first touch was enough.
Tony came with a wrecked shout, his every muscle seizing with the force of it. Steve wasn't sure if it was Tony clamping around his cock in a vice or the sheer bliss on his features that sent him spiraling into the throws of orgasm. He pumped into Tony twice more, his vision blurring until all that was left were the waves of ecstasy making him tremble and the heat of his release.
Steve climbed down from his high quicker than normal, his instincts suddenly screaming that there was someone else in the room. He grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be the alarm clock, and threw it with deadly accuracy into the shadows. It shattered out of sight.
Tony twisted to follow the motion, the arc faintly illuminating the cracked wall and the fragments of technology scattered across the carpet, "What the hell did my clock do to-" he shut up when Natasha stepped into the light. "Oh, you have completely redefined the word creepy."
The spy braced her hands on her belt, her face completely neutral, "Are you two done, or do I need to go get a bucket of water?"
Steve inhaled sharply and held it in his lungs, embarrassment flooding his system as a paralytic. His face burned. The sensation spread down his neck and shoulders until he felt as though his entire body was blushing. Tony, on the other hand, didn't move or cover himself or get off of Steve's cock.
Looking up at the ceiling, Tony practically scolded his computer, "Jarvis! Why didn't you tell me Agent Romanoff had entered the room?"
Jane's voice responded calmly, "May I remind you, sir, that you insisted I not speak until my vocal files could be updated." It made Steve feel a hundred times more awkward.
"How long have you been standing there?" Tony griped at Natasha, his chest still heaving as he caught his breath.
"Long enough to know that Steve should consider a career in porn."
Steve felt his skin get hotter. Trying to hide his immense shame, he slid the nearest pillow over his face and pressed it down with his arms. Maybe if he suffocated, this moment would end. His toes curled. Even through the feather filling, he could hear them talking.
Natasha flipped to business as if she hadn't interrupted them naked and still entwined, "We've compiled the possible suspects and we need you to look over it."
"Can we have five minutes?"
Steve moved the pillow in time to see Natasha's gaze slide over them both appraisingly and one of her thin eyebrows lift. The corner of her Cupid's bow mouth curled, "Take ten, I'll tell Fury you're getting coffee." She slipped out as quietly as she came in.
As the door clicked shut, Steve groaned and dropped the pillow back onto his head, "If your mattress would kindly open up and swallow me now..."
The weight on his hips lifted and his soft member slid out of Tony. He should've been half-hard from the man squirming on him for several minutes, but getting caught in the act had never been a turn on for Steve. Nothing made his cock curl up faster than getting interrupted by a third party. He didn't think he'd ever get used to this modern culture where people had sex in places they hoped they would get caught. It was bad enough he'd taken Tony at the abandoned factory.
Tony slapped his chest lightly then yanked the pillow off his shame, reminding him, "We've got work to do. You and my bed can get intimate later."
"I- I didn't mean it like that," Steve stammered.
"Sure, that's what they all say."
"Who're 'they'?"
"Just the incorporeal representation of the human masses," the genius said, not really explaining anything.
They got cleaned up, Steve carefully snagging Tony's shoulders so he could press an occasional kiss to his neck or cheek. Tony got into a fresh pair of clothes while Steve slipped out of his stained slacks and back into his uniform. He didn't know how long it would take them to track Scorn once they knew her real name, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to be prepared. Steve walked just behind Tony as they went downstairs to meet with Fury.
The dark-skinned man stood at the projector looking up at images of seven different women. Just behind him, Natasha was perched on the end of the conference table. She smiled suggestively when they came into the room and Steve felt his blush returning. Clint was at her elbow, his curiosity scarcely hidden. Natasha turned her head away from them so neither could see her lips moving as she spoke to him, and then Clint shared her grin.
Steve averted his gaze to the line-up on the wall. Tony hadn't even reached them before he pointed at a woman in the middle with a heart-shaped face, "Her, that one." Getting close enough to press his finger to the glowing image, Tony glanced over his shoulder at Natasha, "Who is this?"
The layout of the screen changed, the other photos vanishing and the grainy image of the woman Tony had indicated shifted to the left side of the projection. It sized up and paragraphs of information slotted in to the right. Steve scanned it quickly.
"Raisa Golovin," Natasha said, getting off the table. Her face turned to the projection and her expression flattened so there wasn't a trace of emotion. "Born 1978 to an unlisted, drug-addicted mother. Raised in the Russian equivalency of foster care. Adopted in 1985 to an upper-middle class family, showed signs of extreme intelligence."
"What's her IQ?" Tony asked. The question was serious, but Steve had to bite back a chuckle. Tony was always sizing up the competition.
Fury was the one to answer, "Never tested, but she'd probably give even you a run for your money."
"She already did that. I won, moving on."
Ignoring the interruption, Natasha continued her brief, "Went to college at Princeton with a grant, getting duel doctorates in bioengineering and biotechnology. Came back to Russia with research offers at several major corporations and married a man named Yegor Golovin-"
"Okay, yeah we get it. She's brilliant and somehow makes time for family. Can we move on to the 'where we find her' part? I would even settle for the 'why she snapped' part," Tony said and tossed out a circling motion with his hand to suggest they move along.
Though Steve wouldn't say it, he was thinking the same thing. Every piece of information could be vital in some way, but they needed to find her before she did any more damage. The woman had already proven her ability to cause chaos and Steve wanted to be on her trail as soon as possible.
The terms associated with her doctorates weren't terribly familiar to Steve. He'd heard them thrown around about Banner, so he could make an educated guess. It explained why she was able to pick up his experiment so quickly. Bruce had been working endlessly to create an antidote to the serum, but hadn't been particularly successful so far. SHIELD converted one of the labs into a morgue so Banner could dissect the abominations they'd fought. They were the only clues the doctor had to unraveling his unfinished work.
Natasha broke eye contact and hesitated, but Clint jumped in, "A shady branch of the Russian military decided that they wanted her working in their R and D department. When they couldn't convince her with money, they sent Natasha to-"
"Persuade her," the redhead cut in.
Steve felt a little sick to his stomach. He'd heard how Natasha persuaded people, and it didn't always involve talking. Her tactics were different now, but they all knew what she used to be. The red ledger was infamous around SHIELD. The only people who'd ever seen its contents, besides the spy herself, were Fury and Clint. Neither of them ever talked about it.
When the silence in the room had stretched too thin, Steve asked, "Did she end up working for them?"
"Yes," Clint and Natasha told him simultaneously.
Steve glanced at the soft, smiling face that was framed by blue-black hair. In the image, Raisa was in a lab coat, her hands stuck in the front pockets and her posture relaxed. It was clearly taken before Natasha got a hold of her. Steve wondered what she could've possibly done to the woman to make her think that hundreds of innocent lives were an acceptable cost for her revenge. Lifting his head, he decided that knowing would change his view of Natasha. If they were going to keep working together, it was better that he didn't know.
"So," Tony drew out, rubbing a thumb over his beard as he considered what he was going to say. "If this martial faction started all this, why is she attacking us?" Before anyone else could speak, Tony answered his own question, "We're just means to an end. She needed a force behind her for whatever she's up to, that's why she broke in to the tower."
Clint leaned forward, "But how did she get the formula reworked so quickly?"
Fury uncrossed his arms and went to one of the monitors. A stream of white code appeared on the dark screen, all of it just gibberish to Steve. The director scrolled through the text with the keyboard to a point that was highlighted in red, "According to the security feed we managed to salvage from Jarvis, she'd already been in the tower more than-"
Tony shushed them both, "Shut up, Daddy's thinking."
Steve rubbed his forehead at the comment, avoiding Fury's annoyed glare. Expectedly, Tony didn't even seem to notice it. Stark started to pace, so deep in his own thoughts that they ceased to exist. It happened when pieces of information Tony'd been grasping at finally came together. Steve just stayed out of his way when it happened because Tony was likely to bolt for some tool or file without any warning. The one time he'd been standing in the other man's path, Tony had plowed into him so hard he'd nearly knocked himself unconscious.
Tony froze, his eyes locking on Steve's face, "She knew we'd interrupt whatever she was planning and decided not to leave us to chance. So she planted the bomb in the garage to kill me and ended up hitting you. When that didn't work, she lured us all out. She's been playing us at every turn, and she'll keep playing us if we can't get ahead of her game."
Agent Hill came in at a brisk walk, her mouth pressed into a white line. The other activity in the room stilled and quieted. There was very little that could put a SHIELD agent on edge, so Steve straightened his shoulders and prepared for orders. "Sir," Hill addressed Director Fury crisply and said, "DC is under attack, sir. The assailants are reported as inhuman, massive and powerful."
Fury leapt into motion, yelling orders, "I want everyone suited up and rolling in five! Get every eye turned on Washington, I want to see what's going on." He turned on the team as a live feed of the capitol building replaced Scorn's file on the projector. "That includes you. Get Thor and Banner and get moving."
There was a firefight in the street. The muzzle blasts flared from the police line as well as from the tight group huddled behind a half-dozen over turned cars. Three massive shapes wreaked havoc on the police force, throwing vehicles and people alike. As the video flipped to a different camera angle, Steve could see more armed men getting out of unmarked trucks to join the fight. They were sloppy and untrained. Without the abominations, law enforcement would take them apart.
Steve led the way, the spies immediately falling into step behind him, but Tony stayed where he was. Brow knitting, Steve said, "We've got to get suited up. Tony?"
Tony shook his head, slowly at first and then more adamantly, "No, this doesn't make any sense. This is part of the game, it has to be."
"They're attacking the capitol, doesn't seem much like a game," Clint told him.
"Look, this is what she does. She throws something big and alarming at us so we don't see what she's doing behind the scenes. This," Tony pointed at the carnage, "is her lure, her ruse. There's only three of them, the rest are just convicts with guns. Where are the others?"
"I know." Natasha raised her eyes from the floor and repeated, "I know where she is."
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TBC...
I had to fly with the Super Husbands thing. Couldn't help it, it needed to happen. Also, Tony's reactor core IS made out of vibranium, according to Marvel's website. They write the gay for me, I swear.
And thanks to fly2thesea for telling me about the inhaler not being around until the fifties. Apparently, before the fifties, asthma was actually viewed as a psychological disease and typically wasn't medicated. Poor Steve...
Chapter Eleven - LINK
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence, Language, and Graphic Sex, yay!
Beta: None
Summary: How much blood does it take to repay those who have harmed you?
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Tony, plus loads of other characters... like everyone.
Word Count: About 5,700
Chapter Nine - LINK
Chapter Ten - A Payment of Flesh
Sorry this one took a little longer, it's been a rough week...
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Steve sat with his elbows on his knees and his chin on top of his interlaced fingers. He'd pulled Tony's oversized leather chair out of his closet, where the billionaire kept it to put on his shoes, and over to the side of the bed an hour or so after Tony finally went to sleep.
The dark-haired genius had desperately tried to stay awake for Fury's debrief and the ensuing hunt for the missing trucks, but Steve had barely managed to catch him when he passed out on his feet. It was the inevitable result and Steve was thankful he'd been expecting it. It helped that Steve hadn't strayed more than ten feet from the other man since they'd reconciled. And it wasn't the first time he'd seen Tony work himself until he'd dropped.
Steve couldn't quite bring himself to leave Tony alone. Fury and the others knew they could come get him should something arise, but he wanted to ensure that Tony got as much rest as he could. Currently, Tony was sprawled out in the middle of the bed on his stomach, his face half-hidden by a large, goose down pillow. The mattress absorbed the reactor's glow, leaving the room darker than it normally was.
Despite Steve getting up to adjust the sheets up around Tony's shoulders several times, they were tangled in the man's legs again. He assumed Tony would be cold since Steve had stripped him to his tiny, black underwear, but he'd given up on it. Tony was just as stubborn asleep as he was awake.
With as exposed as Tony was, Steve could see the bruises speckling his back and extremities as if Tony was turning into a leopard. Steve didn't know which ones he'd inflicted and which ones were from Tony's struggle with Scorn. Thinking about hauling off and hitting Tony made Steve open his hands and press his face into them. He rubbed at his eye sockets roughly, the act replaying itself behind his closed lids. Tony had given just as good as he'd received, but Steve never should've lost his temper to such an extreme degree.
"Stop thinking, I can smell it from here," Tony grumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
Steve dropped his hands to dangle between his knees. He hadn't expected Tony to be awake until morning, but he should've known better. The younger man could live off catnaps. Rotating his body so they had a little light, Tony studied him with bleary eyes.
"You need to go back to sleep."
"How long have I been out?"
Steve leaned forward to see the digital clock on the nightstand, "Only four hours."
"Plenty," was Tony's answer as he pushed himself upright. "Where are we in finding Scorn?"
"They think they've located two of the trucks, but they were both empty. Right now, they're putting together a list of suspects for you to go through."
Tony nodded, his gaze unfocused, his body slumped, and his motions slow. There was no way four hours was 'plenty' Steve thought and got out of the chair. If he didn't act before Tony's feet hit the floor, he'd never stop the philanthropist's forward motion. As soon as Tony made plans and was working to fulfill them, he couldn't be convinced to sit still. Toeing off his boots as he crawled onto the bed, Steve intercepted him with an arm around his waist.
Tony griped, "Steve, don't," but didn't fight him.
Steve shoved the pillows up against the wall (they'd stopped installing headboards after Steve broke the fourth one) and settled against them, drawing Tony so his back was flush to Steve's chest. Despite the resistance Tony feigned, he left his head on Steve's collarbone and melted into his arms. Steve drew his knees up on either side of Tony, certain the smaller man would drift off again in minutes if given the opportunity.
Gently carding his fingers through the dark head of hair, Steve let his mind wander as he listened to Tony's breathing even out. He let his thumb trail down Tony's sideburn and along his jaw. He'd hit him hard when Tony first landed in the SHIELD jet and he needed to be sure he hadn't hurt him too badly. There weren't any knots of angry tissue, just a few days worth of stubble.
Tony's hand caught his. He brought Steve's arm around in front of him, kissing the palm, "Seriously, Steve. Stop thinking about it."
Steve sighed. Not particularly surprised Tony was still awake, he admitted, "I can't help it, I never should've hit you... We nearly killed each other."
"No we didn't," Tony groaned, each word heavy with his frustration. "You never would've taken it that far and I was holding back everything that could do serious damage. Trust me, if we wanted to kill each other, we would have."
As always, Steve thought Tony made an excellent point, but it didn't change the fact that he'd smacked his boyfriend around as if he was a punching bag. Domestic violence didn't even begin to cover it, mostly because domestic implied that they were both normal. Steve was certain that the statutes on that didn't get into super strength or mechanically enhanced abilities. Whatever it was classified as, it wasn't okay with Steve. He had controlled his strength, but he'd still hit him.
"I punched you..." his mumble was barely audible.
An aggravated rumble said Tony had heard him, "I shot you, so we're even."
"You turned down the power," Steve pointed out.
Tony sat forward enough to get on his side, bracing a hand on the wall by Steve's head. His chocolate eyes flicked over Steve's face, "And you wouldn't touch me unless I was wearing my armor. Iron Man is used to getting dented up, a hammer and a quick buff and shine will make it seem like it never happened."
Tony pressed his chest against Steve, blocking out the light as he assaulted his lips. Steve's arms gravitated to Tony's slim waist. As he was losing himself to the touch and tease of the other man's tongue, Tony withdrew.
"I'm glad things happened the way they did."
"What, why?"
Tony's smile was sly sex, "Because the make-up fuck was hotter than a rocket launch." The grin faded and Tony averted his gaze, "And if it hadn't gone so wrong, if you hadn't tried to walk away, I never would've realized what I have."
The admittance was softly spoken and made Steve's heart ache with how open and honest it was. They'd turned some kind of corner in their relationship. They weren't casual boyfriends anymore, they'd taken the first tentative step into something deeper. If Tony's expression was anything to go by, he recognized it too and it scared him.
Aside from his connection with Pepper, Steve didn't suppose Tony had ever been this close to another human being. When he'd met him, Steve thought it was because Tony didn't care about anyone but himself. Now, he could see that Tony stayed at a distance to avoid getting hurt. Steve wasn't sure what source the fear traced back to, but he'd put money on Tony's emotionally distant father.
"Well," Steve brushed Tony's bangs off his forehead, smiling at the way the younger man leaned into his touch. "I think you might be stuck with me, so remember you said that."
"Promises, promises," Tony hummed and grazed his teeth over the taut muscle in Steve's throat.
Steve's brow dipped slightly at the joke. It was Tony making light of things as always, but there was an undertone. Part of Tony wasn't convinced. He was hiding it effectively, but Steve had picked up most of Tony's tells since they'd started dating.
Lifting his back off the pillows so Tony could strip his shirt over his head, Steve asked, "Would you believe me if I bought you a ring?" Steve worried it was too much too quickly for the skittish billionaire, but he wanted Tony to have the comfort of knowing he would be there, not just leave him guessing.
Tony sat up so quickly that his head smacked into the underside of Steve's jaw. His teeth clacked together from the hit and he heard Tony hiss, "Shit..." Their eyes met, Tony's bewildered and Steve's sincere.
"This isn't a formal proposal or anything, I'd make sure to do that the right way, so you don't have to give me an answer now," Steve tripped over his words, his cheeks darkening. It had played out a little differently in his mind.
"Are you... are you being serious?"
Steve dropped his head against the wall, frowning deeply. Tony's reaction made him regret saying it. He didn't need more from Tony, he'd take anything he could get, but there was no way he could dismiss the comment as his own attempt at humor. Tony would see right through it. "I-"
"Don't buy rings." As hurt flared in Steve, Tony hastily added, "I want to make them."
A thousand thoughts and emotions thundered through Steve. He hoped Tony wouldn't make them too flashy or complicated, but he wondered what he was capable of crafting. Behind that were the thoughts of moving out of his apartment and having to give up his home in Brooklyn. Briefly, he also wondered how he was going to convince Tony to let him put up more decorations in the stiflingly modern penthouse. Twined in all of it was joy.
Grinning wider than he had in a long time, Steve tumbled with Tony across the bed. He tried to be mindful of his injuries as he kissed him. Tony groaned and spread his legs, letting Steve settle between them. There was a good chance that Tony was still sore from their rough session at the factory, but Steve knew he would stop him if he decided it was too much. Even sore or tired, Tony lived in a state of horny. Steve loved it.
Tony laughed breathlessly when Steve showered kisses on his face and shoulders, "It'll only save you a couple-hundred bucks, relax. We still have to buy the gold. Or, you know," Tony caught his face, "I could use gold-titanium, I do have a lot of it hanging around the shop."
Steve's nose wrinkled as he thought about it, "It wouldn't be red, would it?"
"You do know that part is painted, right?"
The way Tony's suit took damage told him that. Scars across the flame-bright sections of Iron Man always revealed the gold underneath. He smirked and gave Tony a wink, "I'm just saying that my ring better not look like a miniature version of your suit. And if it does, yours had better be red, white, and blue with a little star in the middle."
Tony took his own lower lip between his teeth, sniggering, "That would be tacky. Are you sure I can convince you to let me put a little LED light in the center where the diamond should go? I could engrave it with 'This fantastic ass belongs to Iron Man'."
Oddly, Steve could picture it all too easily. He wouldn't put it past Tony to make it. Refusing to give the suggestion power, Steve said, "Too bad vibranium was never replicated, it would be fitting."
"Actually," Tony wrapped a leg around Steve's waist and dragged him closer. He took Steve's wrist, lifting his hand to the arc reactor, "It was eventually rediscovered. When dad couldn't reproduce the results of the original experiment, he left a blueprint for me to follow."
Mouth opening, then closing, then opening again, Steve never found the proper vocabulary to phrase his question. He looked down at the brilliant piece of machinery, his thumb grazing over it unconsciously, lovingly. In the center of the device was the source of the light, a small triangle of metal Steve had never bothered to identify. Science wasn't really his forte. He was decent enough at it in school, he knew all of his elements and where they sat on the periodic table, but he'd never given the construction of Tony's arc much thought.
"This is vibranium?" Steve finally asked.
The words were quiet, full of awe. It was one more link in the chain between them, links that had been forming long before the younger Stark was born. It was strange to think that the metal that protected him also protected Tony. The actual application couldn't have been farther apart, but the basis was the same. It kept them alive.
"You've probably read it in my file, but the palladium I used first didn't... agree with my body, so I had to find a replacement," Tony explained as he took off his underwear. He put his finger in the elastic band and shot them across the room.
Steve looked up from unfastening his pants. As much as he wanted to get into Tony, this was more important. Ever since Colonel Rhodes told him about the deadly arc while they were in the elevator, Steve had craved details. He let Tony chatter, which Tony was very good at doing. Without interruption, he could babble for an hour or more on one topic.
"I didn't know it was vibranium until you showed up with that shield and I started comparing properties. When you think about the torsion stiffness characteristics of-"
"Tony, you're not speaking English anymore."
"I forget you're not Banner. His pillow talk is much more intelligent," Tony teased as he arched his body against Steve.
Ignoring the Banner comment, Steve clamped his hands over Tony's hips to still them. There was so much he wanted to know, but Tony didn't appreciate being held down. The smaller man hooked his other leg over Steve's low back and squeezed him with his thighs.
"Don't stop. God, baby, please don't stop," Tony whined, the sounds skimming down Steve's body and catching fire in his groin. Stark was already getting hard, the firm line of his cock pressed against Steve's abdomen.
Somehow, Steve managed to refrain from grinding Tony into the mattress, "What was the palladium doing to you?"
"If you don't fuck me in the next ten seconds, I might kill you."
"Tell me."
Tony's glare was one Steve was incredibly familiar with. The sharp arch of his left brow and the way his mouth pulled to the side shouted, 'Are you kidding?' When Steve didn't back down, Tony growled, "You do realize you're cockblocking yourself here."
Steve wasn't familiar with the twenty-first century term, but he could guess what it meant. Quietly, Steve said, "Your buddy told me about it, that it was killing you and that was why you gave up one of your suits. You wanted him to continue as Iron Man after you were gone. It was really bad, wasn't it?"
"Rhodey's dead. He's absolutely dead," Tony groaned and let his head flop onto the pillow. "Can't we have post-engagement, afterglow sex and forget about the palladium? Since I already know the answer to that, roll over."
Steve obliged and slid out from between Tony's legs when he was released. As he got onto his back, Tony abruptly straddled his waist. He started to argue and Tony's tongue filled his mouth, silencing him. He grabbed the prominent curve of Tony's hipbones, not to stop him this time, but to steady him. As Tony sat up, Steve let his palms wander over the length of Tony's strong thighs. The play of muscle under the pale skin was nearly mesmerizing.
Tony shimmied down Steve's body so he could get at the button on his slacks. Reaching between the 'V' of his own legs, Tony dragged the zipper down so slowly that Steve felt sweat spring up along his hairline. Pushing the slacks just far enough to free Steve's erection, Tony lifted onto his knees and got positioned over him. He was still slick and loose from earlier, making the entry a smooth glide.
Steve hands tightened compulsively on Tony and he had to force them to relax so he wouldn't leave any more bruises. There were enough contusions on the other man already. Tony's heat engulfed him as he settled onto Steve's hips. While Steve could only think of thrusting up into the inviting body above him, Tony was able to continue with his explanation.
"The output from the palladium was enough to power the suit, but the discharge from the reaction saturated my bloodstream. I- couldn't control the levels," Tony clarified and watched Steve through hooded eyes. Putting both hands back, Tony pressed on Steve's thighs to stifle his bucking. "You lost your chance, big guy. Now sit still."
Tony canted his hips as he rode Steve leisurely, coming down at the perfect angle each time. It was almost impossible for Steve not to be involved in sex. Every urge he had screamed to take over and pump into Tony fast and hard. They weren't temperate like this, like orgasm was the last thing either of them wanted.
Taking a deep breath, Steve settled into the pillows and let himself drink in Tony's long, lean frame as the younger man worked him. It was good, especially the view, and the hot tingle that prickled along his nerve endings was reminiscent of the blinding pleasure he felt when he took Tony more forcefully. The pace Tony set let Steve keep a head on his shoulders.
While he stroked the insides of Tony's thighs, he processed what he'd heard about the damaging core, "S- so that's when you started looking for a replacement element?" Minutely, Steve thrust into Tony's next downward stroke.
"There wasn't one," Tony tossed his head back and gasped. "Fury got involved, started shoving all my... ughn- all my old man's stuff at me, said there was an answer. Fuck, Steve, I told you to sit still."
Steve smiled, feeling control returning to him as he pushed up to meet Tony's hips again, "Go on, you found the blueprints for vibranium in the material Fury brought you?"
"No, I'd had it in storage for years. Damn bastard built it into the Expo model."
"Smart."
Tony snorted, his eyes squinting shut in concentration, "Stark men are nothing if not intelligent. Unfortunately, it comes with long list of character defects."
"I'm familiar with them," and he was. Extremely familiar.
Steve could safely say Tony's drinking habits had slowed down to something that remotely resembled normal and Steve could only hope it was his influence over the man. When they imbibed together Tony didn't overdo it. As long as he wasn't sulking about something alone, Tony managed to stay sober most days. The narcissism still needed work, but Steve knew billionaires had to take baby steps. Besides, Tony's self-assuredness was part of what Steve liked about him.
A shudder shook Tony at Steve's next thrust, making his rhythm falter. His eyebrows tilted up and his mouth fell open. The low keening moan Tony released crawled across Steve like a living thing, heating his skin and forcing all of his remaining blood to drain lower. Bracing his feet on the bed to get some leverage, Steve pulled Tony down onto his cock and pushed up to meet him.
Steve kept his eyes trained on Tony as he pounded into him. He lived for this moment, when the unshakable Tony Stark completely fell apart in his hands. From their first time together, Steve had found a certain pride in the way he could reduce a man like Tony to whimpered pleading.
It was so far beyond anything he was capable of before the serum. Before, he just prayed he could make it through sex without having an asthma attack. On days when he missed the world he used to know, he reminded himself that this was the trade-off, having Tony writhing against him like he was the only person alive capable of giving him release.
Tony's fingers threaded in Steve's, gripping so fiercely his knuckles turned white. Tony started to speak, but couldn't make any noise beyond airy moans. It didn't matter. Steve knew what he was going to say. He could feel how close Tony was in the tension of his thighs and the tightening of his interior walls. If Steve so much as grazed his cock, the younger man would go off. It bobbed within easy reach, red and engorged and leaking profusely. A trail of opaque precome ran all the way to the nest of dark curls.
Steve wanted to hold out, but wanted to give Tony what he needed even more. When he loosened his hold on one side, Tony's hand stayed tangled with his. Reversing their grip so Steve's larger palm engulfed the back of Tony's hand, Steve guided both of them to Tony's cock. The first touch was enough.
Tony came with a wrecked shout, his every muscle seizing with the force of it. Steve wasn't sure if it was Tony clamping around his cock in a vice or the sheer bliss on his features that sent him spiraling into the throws of orgasm. He pumped into Tony twice more, his vision blurring until all that was left were the waves of ecstasy making him tremble and the heat of his release.
Steve climbed down from his high quicker than normal, his instincts suddenly screaming that there was someone else in the room. He grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be the alarm clock, and threw it with deadly accuracy into the shadows. It shattered out of sight.
Tony twisted to follow the motion, the arc faintly illuminating the cracked wall and the fragments of technology scattered across the carpet, "What the hell did my clock do to-" he shut up when Natasha stepped into the light. "Oh, you have completely redefined the word creepy."
The spy braced her hands on her belt, her face completely neutral, "Are you two done, or do I need to go get a bucket of water?"
Steve inhaled sharply and held it in his lungs, embarrassment flooding his system as a paralytic. His face burned. The sensation spread down his neck and shoulders until he felt as though his entire body was blushing. Tony, on the other hand, didn't move or cover himself or get off of Steve's cock.
Looking up at the ceiling, Tony practically scolded his computer, "Jarvis! Why didn't you tell me Agent Romanoff had entered the room?"
Jane's voice responded calmly, "May I remind you, sir, that you insisted I not speak until my vocal files could be updated." It made Steve feel a hundred times more awkward.
"How long have you been standing there?" Tony griped at Natasha, his chest still heaving as he caught his breath.
"Long enough to know that Steve should consider a career in porn."
Steve felt his skin get hotter. Trying to hide his immense shame, he slid the nearest pillow over his face and pressed it down with his arms. Maybe if he suffocated, this moment would end. His toes curled. Even through the feather filling, he could hear them talking.
Natasha flipped to business as if she hadn't interrupted them naked and still entwined, "We've compiled the possible suspects and we need you to look over it."
"Can we have five minutes?"
Steve moved the pillow in time to see Natasha's gaze slide over them both appraisingly and one of her thin eyebrows lift. The corner of her Cupid's bow mouth curled, "Take ten, I'll tell Fury you're getting coffee." She slipped out as quietly as she came in.
As the door clicked shut, Steve groaned and dropped the pillow back onto his head, "If your mattress would kindly open up and swallow me now..."
The weight on his hips lifted and his soft member slid out of Tony. He should've been half-hard from the man squirming on him for several minutes, but getting caught in the act had never been a turn on for Steve. Nothing made his cock curl up faster than getting interrupted by a third party. He didn't think he'd ever get used to this modern culture where people had sex in places they hoped they would get caught. It was bad enough he'd taken Tony at the abandoned factory.
Tony slapped his chest lightly then yanked the pillow off his shame, reminding him, "We've got work to do. You and my bed can get intimate later."
"I- I didn't mean it like that," Steve stammered.
"Sure, that's what they all say."
"Who're 'they'?"
"Just the incorporeal representation of the human masses," the genius said, not really explaining anything.
They got cleaned up, Steve carefully snagging Tony's shoulders so he could press an occasional kiss to his neck or cheek. Tony got into a fresh pair of clothes while Steve slipped out of his stained slacks and back into his uniform. He didn't know how long it would take them to track Scorn once they knew her real name, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to be prepared. Steve walked just behind Tony as they went downstairs to meet with Fury.
The dark-skinned man stood at the projector looking up at images of seven different women. Just behind him, Natasha was perched on the end of the conference table. She smiled suggestively when they came into the room and Steve felt his blush returning. Clint was at her elbow, his curiosity scarcely hidden. Natasha turned her head away from them so neither could see her lips moving as she spoke to him, and then Clint shared her grin.
Steve averted his gaze to the line-up on the wall. Tony hadn't even reached them before he pointed at a woman in the middle with a heart-shaped face, "Her, that one." Getting close enough to press his finger to the glowing image, Tony glanced over his shoulder at Natasha, "Who is this?"
The layout of the screen changed, the other photos vanishing and the grainy image of the woman Tony had indicated shifted to the left side of the projection. It sized up and paragraphs of information slotted in to the right. Steve scanned it quickly.
"Raisa Golovin," Natasha said, getting off the table. Her face turned to the projection and her expression flattened so there wasn't a trace of emotion. "Born 1978 to an unlisted, drug-addicted mother. Raised in the Russian equivalency of foster care. Adopted in 1985 to an upper-middle class family, showed signs of extreme intelligence."
"What's her IQ?" Tony asked. The question was serious, but Steve had to bite back a chuckle. Tony was always sizing up the competition.
Fury was the one to answer, "Never tested, but she'd probably give even you a run for your money."
"She already did that. I won, moving on."
Ignoring the interruption, Natasha continued her brief, "Went to college at Princeton with a grant, getting duel doctorates in bioengineering and biotechnology. Came back to Russia with research offers at several major corporations and married a man named Yegor Golovin-"
"Okay, yeah we get it. She's brilliant and somehow makes time for family. Can we move on to the 'where we find her' part? I would even settle for the 'why she snapped' part," Tony said and tossed out a circling motion with his hand to suggest they move along.
Though Steve wouldn't say it, he was thinking the same thing. Every piece of information could be vital in some way, but they needed to find her before she did any more damage. The woman had already proven her ability to cause chaos and Steve wanted to be on her trail as soon as possible.
The terms associated with her doctorates weren't terribly familiar to Steve. He'd heard them thrown around about Banner, so he could make an educated guess. It explained why she was able to pick up his experiment so quickly. Bruce had been working endlessly to create an antidote to the serum, but hadn't been particularly successful so far. SHIELD converted one of the labs into a morgue so Banner could dissect the abominations they'd fought. They were the only clues the doctor had to unraveling his unfinished work.
Natasha broke eye contact and hesitated, but Clint jumped in, "A shady branch of the Russian military decided that they wanted her working in their R and D department. When they couldn't convince her with money, they sent Natasha to-"
"Persuade her," the redhead cut in.
Steve felt a little sick to his stomach. He'd heard how Natasha persuaded people, and it didn't always involve talking. Her tactics were different now, but they all knew what she used to be. The red ledger was infamous around SHIELD. The only people who'd ever seen its contents, besides the spy herself, were Fury and Clint. Neither of them ever talked about it.
When the silence in the room had stretched too thin, Steve asked, "Did she end up working for them?"
"Yes," Clint and Natasha told him simultaneously.
Steve glanced at the soft, smiling face that was framed by blue-black hair. In the image, Raisa was in a lab coat, her hands stuck in the front pockets and her posture relaxed. It was clearly taken before Natasha got a hold of her. Steve wondered what she could've possibly done to the woman to make her think that hundreds of innocent lives were an acceptable cost for her revenge. Lifting his head, he decided that knowing would change his view of Natasha. If they were going to keep working together, it was better that he didn't know.
"So," Tony drew out, rubbing a thumb over his beard as he considered what he was going to say. "If this martial faction started all this, why is she attacking us?" Before anyone else could speak, Tony answered his own question, "We're just means to an end. She needed a force behind her for whatever she's up to, that's why she broke in to the tower."
Clint leaned forward, "But how did she get the formula reworked so quickly?"
Fury uncrossed his arms and went to one of the monitors. A stream of white code appeared on the dark screen, all of it just gibberish to Steve. The director scrolled through the text with the keyboard to a point that was highlighted in red, "According to the security feed we managed to salvage from Jarvis, she'd already been in the tower more than-"
Tony shushed them both, "Shut up, Daddy's thinking."
Steve rubbed his forehead at the comment, avoiding Fury's annoyed glare. Expectedly, Tony didn't even seem to notice it. Stark started to pace, so deep in his own thoughts that they ceased to exist. It happened when pieces of information Tony'd been grasping at finally came together. Steve just stayed out of his way when it happened because Tony was likely to bolt for some tool or file without any warning. The one time he'd been standing in the other man's path, Tony had plowed into him so hard he'd nearly knocked himself unconscious.
Tony froze, his eyes locking on Steve's face, "She knew we'd interrupt whatever she was planning and decided not to leave us to chance. So she planted the bomb in the garage to kill me and ended up hitting you. When that didn't work, she lured us all out. She's been playing us at every turn, and she'll keep playing us if we can't get ahead of her game."
Agent Hill came in at a brisk walk, her mouth pressed into a white line. The other activity in the room stilled and quieted. There was very little that could put a SHIELD agent on edge, so Steve straightened his shoulders and prepared for orders. "Sir," Hill addressed Director Fury crisply and said, "DC is under attack, sir. The assailants are reported as inhuman, massive and powerful."
Fury leapt into motion, yelling orders, "I want everyone suited up and rolling in five! Get every eye turned on Washington, I want to see what's going on." He turned on the team as a live feed of the capitol building replaced Scorn's file on the projector. "That includes you. Get Thor and Banner and get moving."
There was a firefight in the street. The muzzle blasts flared from the police line as well as from the tight group huddled behind a half-dozen over turned cars. Three massive shapes wreaked havoc on the police force, throwing vehicles and people alike. As the video flipped to a different camera angle, Steve could see more armed men getting out of unmarked trucks to join the fight. They were sloppy and untrained. Without the abominations, law enforcement would take them apart.
Steve led the way, the spies immediately falling into step behind him, but Tony stayed where he was. Brow knitting, Steve said, "We've got to get suited up. Tony?"
Tony shook his head, slowly at first and then more adamantly, "No, this doesn't make any sense. This is part of the game, it has to be."
"They're attacking the capitol, doesn't seem much like a game," Clint told him.
"Look, this is what she does. She throws something big and alarming at us so we don't see what she's doing behind the scenes. This," Tony pointed at the carnage, "is her lure, her ruse. There's only three of them, the rest are just convicts with guns. Where are the others?"
"I know." Natasha raised her eyes from the floor and repeated, "I know where she is."
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TBC...
I had to fly with the Super Husbands thing. Couldn't help it, it needed to happen. Also, Tony's reactor core IS made out of vibranium, according to Marvel's website. They write the gay for me, I swear.
And thanks to fly2thesea for telling me about the inhaler not being around until the fifties. Apparently, before the fifties, asthma was actually viewed as a psychological disease and typically wasn't medicated. Poor Steve...
Chapter Eleven - LINK
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As always, thanks for reading!
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(shakes head sadly at fanfic clueless family) They don't understand. LOL.
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Glad you're liking it!
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P.S. One nit-picky thing inhalers weren't invented 'til 1956, just so you're aware.
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