It was bedlam. People were running left, right and center, scrambling all over every surface of the helicarrier, preparing weapons, suiting up and trying to keep the massive craft in the air. Hill was yelling orders into her earpiece, as was Fury. Bruce was safely contained in his cell – any Hulk business now could push them out of the sky. Tony was flying around, trying to get a read on where the missiles were coming from. Hawkeye and Romanov were helping on deck and Thor was with Tony.
Steve was suited up, shield firmly strapped to his arm. He stood beside Fury on the main deck of the 'carrier and was watching, in case he was required anywhere. Fury was currently talking to Tony. Steve heard the crash before he saw the bulky form of Thor come to land in front of he and the director. Fury's good eye was bulging and his lips were flecked with spit from his incessant yelling.
The attack had come from nowhere. The Avengers and their air team had been on a routine air surveillance op, on the way to a non-emergency situation in Chicago, when a missile had come from nowhere, narrowly missing the engine. They'd learned from the incident with Loki, but there wasn't all that much that they could do to protect the external engines. Tony was looking into designing internal ones. After the initial explosion, more missiles had come raining down on them and now they were doing all they could just to stay on the aircraft.
"I don't care about that, Stark, I just want those motherfuckers taken down!" Fury roared. Steve turned to look at Fury, an alarmed expression on his face. He'd only ever heard that word a few times in his life. He found it a disgusting and unnecessary abuse of English. Maybe this was why Tony considered him a preachy asshole, he considered for a moment.
Thor looked equally stunned. His small eyes narrowed in contemplation and he let out a mighty bellow.
"Man of anger, what slight did you dare impose upon my mother? My mother, who was so kind as to sew my cape from her drapery!" Fury looked taken aback, then disgusted. He yanked his earpiece out.
"Not now, Thor." Fury suddenly found himself with Mjolnir at his throat, a fire blazing in the Norse god's eyes.
"Later." The word itself was a threat. He took off again, presumably to help Tony. Fury scanned the sky, just in time to see another missile headed straight for the helicarrier. He grabbed Captain America around the waist, tackling him to the ground and grabbing at anything to keep them steady. His hand gripped something and Fury closed his eyes as the explosion rent the air. Light flashed outside his eyelids and for a brief moment he wondered if they would every touch the ground again.
Fury's earpiece crackled and he shoved it back in his ear.
"Hill?"
"Sir, we are losing altitude, repeat, losing altitude! What are your orders, Sir?"
"Keep us in the air!"
"Copy that, Sir. We need Stark back here."
"Stark!" Fury barked.
"Copy that, Sir. Heard it. ETA: five minutes. Stark, out." Steve flicked his hair out of his eyes and looked around for any way he could be useful.
"Captain, see if you can shift some of the rubble. Throw it over the side." Steve had his doubts about the ethics of this plan – what if he was to hit a civilian? – but he did as he was ordered, heading over to a pile of rubble and, groaning, shifting some of it off the edge of the carrier.
Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. It was draining work and sweaty. It was hotter up here than on the ground, because heat rises. Steve wiped his forehead on his sleeve, shoving more broken pieces of aircraft off the side. A moment later, Iron Man appeared in view, carrying one of the things he'd just pushed off.
"Are you crazy, Cap? We need this!"
"Well, I didn't know that. All this newfangled technology just screws with my brain!" He could feel Tony's eyebrow cocking.
"Newfangled?" Another blast rocked the carrier and Steve was flung over the side, directly into the waiting arms of Iron Man. He barely even felt he was falling before he was caught.
"Jesus, Cap. I know I'm attractive and all, but-"
"Shut up, Tony." With his feet back on the carrier, Steve continued on with his work, throwing over only the ragged chunks of broken stuff that most definitely couldn't be used. In the distance, a bright light flashed and there was a resounding noise that filled the air, something like an explosion. Steve didn't even flinch. He was used to explosions by now. He did live with Bruce and Tony, after all.
"Enemy has been nullified, Sir," Tony's voice reported loudly.
"Good work, Stark. Now get back here. We're about to go down."
…
Fury sat at his desk, sorting through piles and piles of paperwork. He was in a sour mood, because the Council had hauled his ass over the coals for the damage bill for the helicarrier. There came a pounding knock on his office door.
"Go away."
The door slammed open and in staggered Thor, hair mussed, a look of rage upon his features.
"Man of anger! You imposed upon my mother an insidious slight and now you must answer for it!" Fury rolled his eyes.
"Thor, here on Midgard, 'motherfucker' is an expression. It isn't literal."
"Thor? Thor?" Steve poked his head around the doorframe. "Ah. I see you found him already. Director Fury, Sir, I believe we need to have a discussion about your language in the field."
Fury rolled his eyes.