What started out as a crack!fic turned into something I decided was going to be multi-chaptered, though I'm not quite sure just how long it'll be! I'm certainly excited though =] Title comes from the song Feast of the Heart, and while this was supposed to be one of my one-shots I'm still counting this as fic 21/50.
I hope you enjoy! Comments and kudos and reads are always appreciated!
Also, this is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes are my own.
"All Avengers please report to Captain Rogers' room." Jarvis' voice rang through the Avengers tower, making Natasha's head pick up from her book. Oh, God, what did Steve have in mind now? If it was another team bonding exercise she was going to have a few words to say about that. The last time he'd tried to get them all to come out and talk about their past and their parents and, well, it seemed he was the only one (besides Thor, of course, but his parents were gods after all) who'd had a decent childhood. It hadn't ended well, and Nat seriously hoped that whatever he had in mind was something a little more lighthearted than that. What she found, instead, was a group of arguing super heroes in a room that looked as though it'd survived a tornado surrounding a pair of Steves. Wait. She blinked rapidly as she took her spot between Tony and Thor, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. How were there two of them? Identical in every way to the Steve Rogers she knew their only differences came from the way they held themselves; the one on the left looked as if he was ready to turn on any of them at any moment, while the one on the right held himself as though he might fall apart. The latter reminded her of a child she'd seen back in Russia, cold and terrified, shivering in front of the group of adults as he listened to them talk and decide what was going on.
But how could they discuss that when they had no idea what was even happening?
"Two Steves?" Tony was asking Jarvis, seemingly on the same brainwave. "J, explain this to me."
"I do not know, sir," the AI insisted again. "He just began to split and suddenly there were two of the Captain Rogers. Judging by their brain patterns and early mannerisms, sir, it seems as though they were split based on personality differences. One would be the Id, the other seems to be resemble that of a child."
"Hey." The Steve on the right drew the word out, glancing up at the ceiling with a hurt expression. "You don't have to be so rude!"
"Understood J, what else?" Tony asked, ignoring the outburst as he looked from one of the twins to the other. "I mean, did someone divide by zero and now suddenly we just happen to have two Steve Rogers?"
"Not quite sir. From the readings I am getting from the two their personality split is magic-based."
The groan that went through the room was collective and four sets of eyes turned to Thor, who just gave a nervous laugh. "I suppose I should go visit my brother, should I not? I am sure that this was simply a harmless prank."
"Harmless?" Bruce asked, a dry laugh leaving his lips as he removed his glasses to clean them and shook his head. Nat was about in the same boat. "You call this harmless? What if someone attacks and we need Captain America?"
"Can we not simply send them both into the fray?"
"That's what I'm talking about. A fight." The voice that came out was enough to silence Tony and Bruce's banter. It was thick, deep, with an accent born and bred from the heart of Brooklyn and pulled at something deep inside Natasha, the heat pooling in her navel. Woah. Where had that come from, and why had Cap been holding it back for so long? The Steve on the left was grinning, the corners of his lips pulled too far back, as though he'd never heard such a good idea. "Point me in the right direction."
"Hey, no. I need to run tests on the both of you, figure out what's exactly going on. We don't know what it's going to do to Rogers with you two being, well, split." Tony said. "So, Steve . . . Steves. Don't leave. Don't even think about it. Your asses are mine until I give the go ahead." He frowned, looking from one to the other. "How about we just call you Good and Bad Steve?"
"That's more of a mouthful than it needs to be," Natasha murmured, speaking up for the first time though it wasn't anything unusual. It did garner her an appreciative look from who Tony was now calling Evil Steve, and the look in his eyes was one Natasha was familiar with but not on Steve Rogers' face. She renamed the one on the right Steve, and the one on the left Rogers. Tony rolled his eyes.
"At least mine was inventive."
"Good and Bad?" Clint snorted. "Really? You're one of the more morally ambiguous people here and you classified him between good and bad."
"Shut it, Hawk."
The two dissolved into a bickering match that made Natasha sigh. Children. She was surrounded by children. With Bruce's help she managed to escort the two halves of Steve Rogers to the lab, Tony and Clint following after. Thor stayed behind, likely to take off for the bifrost site soon afterwards. If this was Loki, and really who else had the skill or ability or desire to play a prank like this, then the sooner he got moving the sooner he could start tracking the trickster. Natasha roughed it out to about two to three weeks they'd have to wait, two days after that to convince Loki if they were lucky and he was in a good mood, and then they should have their normal Captain America back. She eyed the two embodiments of the man she called Captain, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Do you two share the same memories, or the same mannerisms as our Cap did?" She asked when they'd crowded into the elevator to be taken down the four floors. Tony and Clint went silent and all eyes fell on the pair. Rogers was quiet for a moment and shook his head. "I remember battles. Anger. Everything in between is black and blank."
"And I remember everything but fighting." Steve admitted, voice a soft squeak under all the attention. His face was changing between three different shades of red, varying on whether or not he looked up to meet the eyes of those around him. He was kind of cute, Natasha had to admit, his eyes wide and terrified like a little lost puppy. She couldn't help but admit she wanted to run her hands through his hair and promise him it was going to be alright, that everything would be fine, but that wasn't exactly true, nor was it something she was prepared to do in front of the others. Clint would never let her live it down, and Nat was nothing if not proud of her reputation.
"So Cap compartmentalizes when he's on and off the field. Makes sense. Likely how he's not gone crazy yet; he gets all his aggression and anger out when Rogers comes out," Bruce murmured, looking from the one twin to the next. "And reverts back to Steve when he doesn't need to exorcise his demons."
"Sounds like DID to me," Tony muttered.
"Or a good coping mechanism," Natasha offered, defensive. Tony had his drinking, Bruce had a near literal demon hiding inside of him that he could release if he needed to, Clint had his nest and Natasha . . . Natasha had vodka and so many different personalities it would have made Freud's head spin. Cap was nothing, if not normal, in comparison to the rest of them.
Steve turned to smile at Natasha, his face an open book of how grateful he was for her understanding. In fact he seemed to crowd closer to her as they exited the elevator, and Nat couldn't help but smile. As she'd thought before he was cute, reminding her of a young golden retriever. He seemed to have the boundless energy of one, all but bouncing off of the walls as they made their way to the medical bay. As Stark had said he wanted to run some tests, and Natasha couldn't blame him for that. Who knew what the changes Loki had made to the Steves would have done to their genetic makeup; they might have looked fine on the outside but inside? Well, she hoped that the tests returned normal.
"We should call Fury about this," Natasha said once they were all settled inside the medical room, Tony and Bruce flitting around the twins; Bruce working with Steve while Tony focused on Rogers. Natasha didn't miss how Rogers' eyes were taking in every inch of the scientist as he worked, his eyes flashing a mix of lust and interest that nearly made her laugh. She'd never seen Captain America look so, well, less than wholesome. Stark seemed to have noticed it as well, a spring in his step Natasha had only ever associated with him getting ready to go in for the kill.
"Sure, do whatever you want Tasha." Stark said, smiling over at her. Bruce nodded his agreement, while Clint's eyes went wide.
"Shit, Phil's gonna kill me if he has to hear this from Fury and not me-gimme ten?"
Nat let herself chuckle as she nodded and he walked away to call his boyfriend, his voice bright and chipper and more than likely setting off Phil's bullshit sensor. In his absence Jarvis took the time to call the Director, and when he picked up Tony ran through what he and Bruce found: Both halves of Steve Rogers were well and functioning and, well, as perfect as ever. Save the whole being split into two ordeal there was nothing different genetically about them.
"I want eyes on them at all times, no exceptions. No offense Cap," he said, "but you are too valuable to this team to let something happen to either one of you."
"So we're babysitting?" Tony asked. He might've come off as disbelieving if Nat hadnt seen he and Rogers making eyes at one another.
"Yes, Stark. At all times."
"I don't want to be around him." Steve's voice was quiet, almost nervous, and garnered a glare from Rogers. "I've seen what he's capable of and I know what he'll do."
"Steve, I can assure you no harm will come to you."
"It's fine Nick," Natasha cut in. "Tony, you take Rogers and I'll take Steve. We'll keep you two as separate during the day as we can manage."
He looked relieved and shot her a grateful grin, all charm and adorable enthusiasm. His thank-you was punctuated by Tony's agreement. He likely wanted time alone with Rogers and Nat had to keep herself from laughing. He looked like he was in for a hell of a night. Nat had a bit of experience with super soldier serums and what it did to a person's libido. For Rogers, who'd been repressed for so long, well, she doubted Stark would be able to walk straight for a month.
"Sounds good Romanov. Anything else I need to know about these two before I let you go?" the Director said, sounding skeptical. Nat paused as she looked over at Tony, who shrugged.
"All clear on this end."
"That'll be all, sir. Thank you." They clicked off after receiving the affirmative from Fury and Natasha moved to sit beside Steve's bed. Bruce flitted from the screens around him to the docile super soldier, whose fingers were tapping out an erratic beat. Whether out of the need to get all that pent up energy out or from nerves Natasha couldn't tell, but she closed her hand over his and squeezed. He turned, trying to read her expression, and she offered him a smile.
"You doing okay?"
He nodded quickly, closing his eyes as Bruce came at him with another needle. He really hated them. Really. They reminded him of being back home when Ma was still around, having to go to those doctors for both her and himself, watching them come at him with needles to take blood samples after blood samples, or else to give her medicine that was supposed to help her but never did. They only ever made her weaker and he couldn't help himself from trembling as he felt the needle dig into his arm. Natasha turned their hands so that he could squeeze hers without saying a word, for which he was so grateful. His discomfort, however, was still noticed.
"Are you seriously squeezing her hand because you're afraid of needles?" Rogers called over, cackling. "Pussy."
Nat's eyes snapped over to his and her gaze intensified. "Shut up, Rogers," she growled. "If he doesn't like needles that's his business, not yours."
The man rolled his eyes again. "You forget I was trapped in a body with this idiot," he drawled, the accent becoming more and more pronounced as he went on, as though he was just remembering and falling back into it. "God, whoever did this-Loki? I oughta shake his hand. He's done me a huge favor."
Natasha's glare turned withering, though he didn't seem to notice. Steve squeezed her hand gently, attracting her attention.
"It's okay," he murmured. He'd dealt with it for so long what did it matter now? Steve Rogers had always been ashamed of his fear of needles and must have used the other guy to get over them
The tests took another couple hours before Bruce shooed them all away so he could go over the data, sending Tony with Rogers. They'd all gotten rather sick of his complaining that he was bored and nothing was going on, so Tony took him down to the recreation room. Somehow Natasha doubted that was what Rogers had in mind but she wasn't about to say something. Tony would figure it out, he always did. At her side Steve was still smiling.
"Did you have anything that you needed to do?" He asked, polite as ever. "I'd hate to get you in trouble if you had work to be finished and I was taking up all your time standing here."
"No, I'm free for the next few days." She was grateful she'd had the foresight to see that her paperwork had to be done soon, having just submitted it to Coulson not a few hours ago. "Do you feel alright?" She didn't know what the proper protocol was or what to expect. What happened when one got split from their original body into two?
"Well, I'm kind of hungry. Mind if we go to the kitchen?" He asked, shooting her a small smile. As if she could say no to that.
"Of course. Do you remember the way?"
He nodded and away he went, babbling all the while. It turned out he remembered a great deal more than she'd initially thought, though she supposed it made sense. He was the closest to the normal Steve they had, complete with an overabundance of manners and good old-fashioned charm. Bless him for it. She couldn't help but smile as he opened the door for her and once she was seated at the bar he immediately got to work fixing them both food. She knew Cap had been a good cook, though Tony usually insisted on having Jarvis cook for them on the basis that the billionaire was incredibly picky about his food, but now to see Steve work . . . well if she was honest he reminded her of a housewife. Humming as he worked, he practically twirled from the refrigerator to the stove, chopping things up with finese as he planned out what looked to be an extensive lunch.
"You're that hungry?" Nat couldn't help but ask as he set to breaking down a couple chickens. He looked up, taken aback, and shook his head.
"No but everyone else might be."
Oh, Steve. She just smiled. At his request Jarvis filled the room with music and Steve was crooning along with Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore, his voice rising with theirs as he worked away. It was a wonder to watch him do it, too, and Nat couldn't help but gape as she watched him bounce back and forth between preparing what smelled like fried chicken along with mashed potatoes, and he seemed to have half a mind to make bread as well but he couldn't find the yeast.
"Drat," he muttered.
"Shall I send for one of the other agents to get some? I believe Agent Coulson is on his way." The AI chimed in.
"No, thanks Jarvis-we can make do with biscuits." And he was back to being a housewife, all smiles and a spring in his step Nat hadn't seen . . . well, ever.
"Where'd you learn to cook all of this?" She asked with an easy smile after he kindly denied her offer to help. She was a mess in the kitchen, anyway, it was probably for the best that she didn't. She was the kind of girl who lived on salad and sandwiches, the easiest food to prepare, or else she dined out when she got a craving for something more.
"When she first got sick Ma taught me everything she knew," Steve said, his mood dampening a little. Nat regretted bringing it up. "She was afraid I wouldn't be able to provide for myself, so she made sure to teach me how to cook everything she knew. She didn't want me to go hungry." His smile was sad when he looked up at her and it might have been the first time outside of battle that Nat had ever seen Steve's eyes cloud up with tears. She frowned, nodding her understanding.
"Well, at least it wasn't in vain. Is that why you prefer to do the cooking rather than make Jarvis do it all the time?"
"Yeah. Feels like I'm honoring her memory."
They spent the rest of the time in silence, listening to the crooners sing, or the jazz in the background, allowing the music to lighten the mood as Natasha watched Steve work. When everything was cooking he set out to make dessert, as if he hadn't already done enough.
"I'm sure it'll be fine if you don't make one-."
"One? I'm making three." He grinned, measuring out the flour, butter, and salt before mixing it all in together by hand. "You like apple pie, don't you?"
Of course he would. Natasha nodded, though if the truth was told she'd never had it before, and couldnt' help but watch in fascination as he got right to work, not missing a beat while the crusts were cooling in the fridge. Attracted by the scent of lunch the other members of the Avengers piled in, including Rogers. Tony, as Nat had suspected, was walking a little funny and sported a few vibrant purple bruises on his neck though he was grinning as if he'd just won the lottery.
"Wow, smells great!" Tony grinned, moving up to Steve and throwing an arm around his shoulders with a small wince.
Steve, who felt the billionaire's body twitch, looked over and his eyes grew wide as the dinner plates Bruce and Phil, now joining them for the meal, were setting out. "What on earth happened to you?"
"Don't worry about me," Tony insisted, pulling away with a frown. He wasn't used to this sort of mothering; Cap usually was pretty good at keeping it to a minimum now that they knew each other well enough. But Steve wasn't having any of that, pushing his cheek to the side to gasp as he saw more marks and scratches that disappeared past his collar. Steve threw a dirty look at his twin.
"You should be more careful."
"You aren't his mother," Rogers retorted with an eyeroll as he sat beside Natasha. She tried not to show that she was fighting back a laugh but Rogers caught it.
"Even Nat thinks it's funny."
"Leave me out of this," she warned, immediately stone-faced.
"I'd like to include you next time, actually," he said, voice lowering to a low rumble as he sidled up beside her at the bar. As before the way the words sounded rolling from his lips, as though he'd just gotten off the streets of downtown Brooklyn, caused heat to pool in her belly. She pushed it back and snorted.
"You couldn't handle me."
"Is that an invitation to try?"
"In your dreams. I'm not interested in assholes."
"Well then we don't have to try it from that position, do we?"
The joke made her laugh in spite of herself. There was something about seeing it come from the face that championed doing what was right and forties-style mannerisms that just made it too funny for her to take seriously. Rogers, it seemed, didn't appreciate her laugh and he had one hand gently squeezing her hip the next moment. The laugh died on Natasha's tongue as she glowered over at him.
"You've fought against me before Rogers. You really want to go at it again?"
"Sure I do, doll, just between the sheets. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mock me or consider what I said to be a joke. It's not. I'm propositioning you."
"And I'm telling you no." She pulled away from him, moving instead to help finish setting the table. Rogers left her alone after that though she felt his gaze on her throughout the night. Steve's own concerned looks weren't helping her out, either, attracting more attention than Natasha was comfortable with. Why, oh why, had she offered to babysit? Even when it was the innocent one things never turned out the way it should have.
"So, how long do you think the spell will last?" Coulson asked. He'd been grinning non stop as he looked between Rogers and Steve, hardly able to stand that there were two of his favorite people (besides Clint) sitting at the table with him.
"We won't really know until Thor gets a hold of Loki, and depending on wherever the bastard is, well, that could take some time." Bruce admitted, looking nervous at the idea. He removed his glasses to clean them, as he did whenever he was considering what to say next, and looked back up at Phil. "Until then, I'm afraid, we can't do anything else. They'll just have to learn how to coexist and we'll have to hope that they somehow manage not to kill each other or be killed in the process. From what I can assume if one of them dies, well, then that personality, that aspect of Steven Rogers, is gone forever. Nothing that can be done."
The news is sobering. From across the table, Steve gulped audibly while Rogers just stares at Bruce, unseeing and likely not wanting to believe the coil of fear Natasha was willing to bet was wrapping itself tight in his stomach.
"Well, we'll just have to keep a close eye on you both then," Coulson said as way of breaking the ice, and conversation picked back up again, though the information that had just passed was lost on no one.
