Title: Extreme Circumstances prologue
Author: Cbccat
Rating: R to NC17, parts will not be worksafe.
Warnings: AU, Mpreg, hurt/comfort, romance, drama.
Fandom: New Avengers, Iron Man
Pairing/Characters: Steve/Tony
Word Count: 4,503
Beta: My thanks to the imdomitable Mozzarellaroses for her lightning fast beta work.
A/N: Alternate Universe folks! Since discovering this pairing I've been reading up on Civil War and afterwards. This fic will begin with a small scene in Steve's cell on the Raft and the rest will start a month afterwards. Almost everything that happened right after his death and after Steve's funeral will Not take place here! One or two things might pop up but the rest is strictly AU. I'm not even going to consider how they brought Steve back, I'll write my own way.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, I wish I did. I only lay claim to the people, places, and things I create for this fic. Not making any money so there's no use suing.
Summary: No one, not even its creators, really knew Extremis and the full extent of its possible abilities, especially when freed from programmed restraints. One wistful, yet powerful, thought sets off a chain reaction of events that will eventually rock the entire superhero world and change the course of history.
Night before the arraignment-The Raft…
"I must be outta my mind," Dugan muttered as he took a seat at the security station. "But I gave my word."
Typing in his clearance codes and the ones Nick gave him before he left, he activated Fury's shielded cameras that were hidden in the Raft's lowest levels. Stark may have used that creepy Extremis thing to shut everything down and enter a masking loop into the system, but he was probably too preoccupied by what was going on down there to be looking for any secret backups.
Dugan understood why Cap wanted this last meeting between him and Stark. Almost from the moment he was retrieved from the ice, Iron Man had been Cap's best friend. They'd stood by each other through thick and thin, defended each other even when the evidence to their wrongdoing was overwhelming. In battle, they were always guarding each other, and when one was hurt, the other became all the more dangerous in his fallen friend's defense.
Hell, they'd sacrificed their lives for each other.
Stark had exposed himself to the Red Skull's bio-weapon to give Cap CPR even though there was no cure at the time. And just recently, Stark electrocuted himself, stopping his own heart to save Cap's life.
To see this amazing friendship and brotherhood die because of that dammed registration act was sickening. And that's why he agreed to Cap's request.
Dugan practically had to twist the New Director's arm to get him to agree to the meeting.
Tony Stark, Director of SHIELD. Damn, the world really had gone to hell. But at least Stark was a better choice for the job than Hill; even she knew that.
Two weeks had passed since Cap surrendered and the venue for his arraignment had finally been chosen. If there was going to be any kind of reconciliation between these two men, it had to be tonight.
After a minute, the screens in front of him glowed to life.
Picking up his coffee, Dugan leaned back and watched.
Ah, there was Stark standing in front of Cap's cell, gazing at the man's image on the door's video screen. Gun-calloused fingers turned up the volume.
/You asked to see me. /
Cap nodded. /I've been told my arraignment's tomorrow. / There was no more anger in his voice, only a kind of calm resignation. The fourteen days since his surrender had allowed both men to calm down, to bleed off the adrenaline and anger.
/Yes. /
/You know what they're going to do. /
/Yes. / Stark was leaning against the thick door, unable to look Cap in the eyes. /The committee's going to charge you with every crime they can lay their hands on. If it was up to Kooing you'd be facing a firing squad. He's out for blood. /
/I'm to be made an example of. To show the remaining superheroes if they don't do what they're told they'll meet the same fate. / Cap's own eyes were downcast.
/It'll be a fair trial. / Stark turned back to the screen. /You'll get your chance to defend your stance. Use the law to-/
/It's only for show, Tony, you and I both know that. This trial's a farce. Even if it wasn't, they'd never allow me to speak. I've already been tried and convicted by these people. The only reason they're going ahead with it is to placate the public and garner more support; they'll broadcast it live to the whole world. /
Stark didn't say anything. What was there to say? Dugan knew Cap was right and by the lowered head and slumped shoulders, Stark knew it too.
The silence stretched between them until Steve moved closer, placing one hand on the screen.
/As a condemned man I'm entitled to a last request. /
Stark's head jerked up. /They're not going for the death penalty despite Kooning's demands! I wouldn't allow if he did succeed! Even if I had to break you out myself, I'd never let them execute you! /
/What do you call the destruction of all that I am, all that I represent? / Cap shook his head. /I didn't ask you to come here to talk about any of this. There's nothing you can do to stop it without drawing fire to yourself. /
/Then why am I here? /
/As I said a last request from a condemned man; one last night with you. /
/Steve… /
/No talking, no registration; just the two of us…together…one last time. /
Stark was frozen, eyes wide, hands braced against the door's heavy frame.
/Please Tony, don't make me beg… /
Minutes passed before Stark's fingers skimmed over the cell's keypad lock. The door slid open and Stark stepped inside, straight into Cap's open arms.
Ppppssshhhhhhht! Dugan spit the gulp of coffee he'd just taken all over the control board and himself. Lucky for him everything was shielded against accidental drenching.
What the hell? Was he hallucinating? Maybe someone had slipped some drug into his mug when he wasn't looking, for surely he wasn't watching Captain America trying to perform a tonsillectomy with his tongue! He really hadn't seen this one coming.
Maybe the Raft had shifted into some bizarre alternate dimension, Dugan frantically thought, as Cap continued to kiss Stark even as his hands were working on removing the other man's clothes.
Damnit! He shouldn't be watching this! He should go down there and break this…this….whatever the hell it was up!
But he gave Cap his word. So long as the other man kept his promise not to attempt an escape or kill Stark, he wouldn't interfere. And a secret little part of himself, previously unknown, was whispering to him that he didn't want to look away, didn't want to stop these men.
Dugan didn't swing that way, no he didn't. Never had so much as a speck of curiosity about what same sex would feel like. Dugan didn't hold any prejudices against it either. In his educated opinion there wasn't so much love in the world that it couldn't benefit from more, regardless of the genders involved. It was just that women were much more to his taste with their soft skin, lush curves, and soft voices that could rev up his engines in a flash.
So why couldn't he tear his eyes from the screen?
Why did his uniform suddenly feel so damned tight in the crotch?
Dugan couldn't help but notice how attractively built Stark was, or how…right…the two men seemed together.
There went the orange coveralls and—Damn! He owed Contessa two hundred bucks. Cap really was hung like a horse; it wasn't just his costume's protective cup distorting the size of his equipment.
Cap took his own sweet time preparing Stark. It was like he was committing every last inch of the man to memory. It made sense. This was probably going to be the last time they would ever be together and Cap wanted to engrave every second into his head. Stark appeared to have similar thoughts, for he was pressing his body up against Cap's, hands and mouth in constant motion. Cap shifted their positions and both men moaned as their aligned cocks rubbed against each other.
Stark made a strangled sound as Cap's hand wrapped around their touching flesh and began a series of firm strokes and squeezes while his other hand skimmed down the taut back to cup and fondle Stark's ass before delving between them to caress the puckered opening hidden there.
It wasn't long after that that Stark lost control. A sharply pitched shout and he was spilling his seed all over Cap's hand from where it was quickly gathered up. Dugan gasped, hands clutching the chair's armrests as Cap used the man's own semen to lube Stark up.
Grabbing Stark's legs, he lifted the slightly smaller man off his feet and pinned him to the wall. Held aloft solely by Cap's strong arms, Stark shuddered, fingers clawing at solid muscles along Cap's back as his body was breached.
Oh God! Stark not only took that monster right down to the root but he was begging for more.
It appeared that Cap approached sex the same way he did swing dancing: with a great deal of strength, flexibility, talent, and enthusiasm. Stark's legs were wrapped around those powerful flexing hips, hands gripping Cap's upper arms, a multitude of sounds escaping his lips as he gasped for air.
Dugan groaned, one hand falling to his uniform-restrained erection. Deftly, he freed it from its uncomfortable confinement and gave a shuddering gasp when his fingers came in contact with his own heated flesh. Unconsciously he fell into the same rhythm as the two men on the screen.
The sounds and motions were reaching a fever pitch; Cap was loosing control, his thrusts more erratic and Stark was babbling incoherently when he wasn't screaming. Finally the building tension snapped and both men came screaming each other's names. Dugan himself gave a hoarse shout as he coated his hand with strands of pearly white come.
Collapsing back in the chair trying to regain control of his breathing Dugan gave a mental sigh of relief. (Thank God that's over. Now—what?)
Cap had pulled out and he was still erect.
The Super Soldier Serum! It greatly increased the man's stamina and decreased the body's production of fatigue poisons. The man could train for hours without breaking into a sweat. And if he could train for hours he could fuck for hours too!
Oh Shit!
S&T
An undisclosed location in New York …
Maria Hill, now deputy director of SHIELD, slipped through the dark rows of warehouse shelves to the arranged rendezvous point, her weapon drawn and the safety off. These docks were all but deserted at this time of night, but even now there were security patrols, homeless ramblers seeking shelter for the night, and the occasional criminal picking up or dropping off some illegal goods.
It was imperative that her presence not be discovered; whoever she encountered would be disposed of quickly and quietly.
"Ah Maria, right on time as always." The voice emanated from the darkness, smooth as silk and more chilling than an arctic wind in the dead of winter. "I admire punctuality."
Holstering her gun, Maria moved forward and sat on a crate. "Let's get this over with. I need to be back before Stark or Dugan come looking for me. "
"Of course. Is everything ready?"
"Are you certain that group is going to strike before the arraignment?"
"Yes. My agents have verified their hand in choosing the location. But their plans are not mine; I'm only allowing them to continue so long as they serve my current needs. Once those needs are met, they will be dealt with."
"The Red Skull and his cohorts aren't ones to so easily dismiss." Maria remarked.
"Nonsense, Maria; none of them realize that they are already the walking dead. Once Rogers is in my hands I shall trigger the nano-grenades they've been ingesting with each meal for the last three weeks. The Red Skull, his little hellspawn daughter, and Faustus should create quite a spectacular explosion, incinerating everything and everyone around them for quite some distance."
"An explosion that big will be just like another Stamford to the media vultures." The SHIELD agent ran her hand through her short cropped hair. "They'll be all over it-and so will Stark."
"All evidence will point to the destruction being caused by one of Zola's experiments gone wrong." The speaker paused and sighed. "It's a pity Zola has to die; he's quite brilliant in his own way, but impossible to control."
"And what about the rest of your allies?"
"Most still serve a purpose but rest assured, when their usefulness is done, they will meet a similar fate. Have no fear that you will be among them Maria; I see no end to your usefulness."
"I still think this isn't going to work."
Shadows shifted as Maria's companion stepped closer. "It will work! Rogers will be taken to the nearest hospital where my agents are already waiting. They will make the final adjustments to the clone, place Rogers in cryogenic suspension, and transport him to my labs. Your job is to see that none of the loyal SHIELD agents try to interfere. Remember, Maria, I need Rogers alive and relatively intact. He's of no use to me dead."
"A job I'd be able to do better if I was Director. Why did you have me peg Stark for the position?" She frowned at the shadow. "Surely my being Director would have been a better choice."
"Not exactly Maria. Think back to when Fury was in command. He didn't have his hand jammed into nearly every cookie jar in the nation and thus was able to focus on running SHIELD; Stark does not have that luxury. SHIELD and Stark are too much in the public's eye and that means they have to be put under constant media scrutiny. Do you think you could function properly as my agent under such surveillance? With everything he's doing, Stark will turn to his closest subordinates to help him run SHIELD; namely you and Dugan. The media will focus on Stark while you will be in the perfect position to monitor things, perform your assignments, and head off anyone who gets too close to the truth without exposing yourself."
"But I will be Director again once this is over correct?"
"I gave my word and my word is my bond. Remember that I want Tony Stark as well. The Extremis file you sent me was fascinating and bears further study. When Stark disappears you will take back the Directorship."
Placated by her superior's words, Maria relaxed and began focusing on the plan. "I think it would be best if we started the clean-up as soon as possible. When Captain America 's death is broadcast on live TV, some of them are going to panic. Panicked people talk."
"Then do so, use the first list as they are the most accessible. Start with Ms. Hansen. With your last report I now have all of her research and development data and, once Stark is in my possession, a live subject. Her services will no longer be required."
"Any particular way you want them done?"
"Be creative, use your imagination. Just remember to stagger the timing a bit."
Maria glanced at her watch; she needed to leave in the next fifteen minutes if she wanted to make it back in time for her duty shift. Her movement was not lost upon her companion.
"I believe we are finished here. You had best return to the Helicarrier. Should there be any changes in the plan I will alert you. Good night Maria." And with that the other faded back into the darkness and was gone.
Maria waited until the soft footfalls could no longer be heard before pulling her gun and retracing her steps to her hidden transport.
S&T
The Raft
Three hours!
Three hours of almost non-stop fucking with Cap, only halting long enough to allow Stark some recovery time before going at it again. Just about every surface in that small cell had been utilized; the wall, the floor, the door, the bed, the sink. If there was a sexual position that would work in that area, they used it. It was like watching a visual guide to the gay Kama Sutra. Finally, both men fell into an exhausted sleep, limbs entangled, with Stark's head resting on Cap's broad chest just above his heart.
Before succumbing, Dugan would almost swear he'd heard murmured words of love slip past both their lips but he'd only be certain of that once he scrutinized the tape in more detail.
He felt slightly guilty recording the events in Cap's cell. This was a very intimate and emotional moment for these two men and he'd caught the whole thing on tape like some secret pornographer. But Dugan couldn't shake the feeling that something important, something truly…miraculous had occurred and he had been privileged to witness it.
And if worse came to worst Dugan could use the tape to keep Stark in line.
Dugan ejected the tape and erased all the data for the last six hours from the computer. He was never here and Stark had never visited the prisoner nor spent all that time in the man's cell. All anyone would find was a boring log of Cap pacing a bit, setting on his bed thinking, and finally falling asleep. The agent who was supposed to be manning this station was outside the door; a good man he'd trained personally and knew was fiercely loyal to SHIELD, Fury, and himself.
"The next shift starts in fifteen minutes Sir," the agent reminded him as he slipped into his chair. "You have that long before the loop ends and anyone looking will see exactly what's in that cell."
Dugan nodded and headed for the elevators. He needed to wake Stark up and get him off the Raft before anyone could find the current SHIELD Director buck naked in a top security prisoner's cell looking like he's been well and truly fucked into the mattress along with every other available surface.
S&T
Unknown Location
Whistling an old Broadway tune as he punched in an access code three times longer than a social security number, the man hit the enter key and smiled as the heavily reinforced door parted to allow him entrance.
He stepped through…right into another dimension.
Before him stretched a series of suspended walkways and platforms, all radiating from an immense central core, like the legs of a spider. Still whistling, the man began making his way to the core area. Only when he reached his goal did he stop and study the realm beyond the protective railings.
Far below, the landscape was bleak, a vast expanse of shifting grey sands dotted by jagged rocky spires, pointing like daggers towards the pitch black sky.
Just beyond the platform's wards, bitterly cold winds stirred the air, filled with countless faint whispers too faint to discern any actual words or single out one voice among the multitude. Reaching out, he trailed his fingers along the wards, watching the energy trails each tip left, relishing the tingle of energy imparted to his skin.
Leaning against the high rails, he closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. He could easily see now how she could spend days or even weeks isolated in this dimension of endless space. Entering this realm was so soothing and was accompanied by a sense of one returning home after a long absence.
Turning away, he strode over to the raised dais with its grouping of computers and controls; time to get to work.
Here, time had no meaning, without any references to guide him, the man could have been working for hours or perhaps even days before the melodic voice interrupted him.
"Really Bernard, why do you insist on waiting here for my return? Would it not be more comfortable in our quarters?"
Descending one of the steeper walkways was his Dark Empress, his sweet Goddess of Discord; resplendently cloaked in garments crafted from the blackest night, speckled with tiny cold lights from a thousand dying suns, her hip length ebony hair floating about her svelte figure like wispy storm clouds, every motion fluid and utterly without any waste of energy.
As always, his heart gave a mighty thump every time he met her penetrating gaze, the color of turquoise, glowing with an unearthly inner light that pierced one straight to the soul. He never tired of her eyes.
"Why would I wait there when I know this is where you will go first?" He greeted her with a smile and a gentle kiss upon the back of her hand. "How did the meeting go?"
"Ah," she chuckled. "Curiosity then; beware indulging in that Bernard. After all, curiosity killed the cat."
"But satisfaction brought it back. And thanks to you I now have an infinite number of lives to use in fulfilling that curiosity." He escorted her over to her favorite chair and settled into his own to hear her recount.
"Hill has her orders. We're moving ahead with Phase One of the purges."
"Is that wise? We may still need some of those people."
"The group chosen for the first purge are those that have served their purpose and would now be a detriment to our plans should they be interrogated or decide to branch out for themselves."
She tapped one needle sharp fingernail against the chair's arm rest. "That reminds me. I really must send some form of thank you to Wolverine for his disposal of Declun. The man was too arrogant, too greedy, and didn't cover his tracks well enough to hide our involvement. Some of Declun's personal files contained revealing snippets of information on exactly who was really backing him financially. I believe I actually experienced a brief moment of mild concern when that wild man chose to visit Forge. Fortunately my virus was able to erase any damming information before Forge could break in."
"I was against choosing Declun in the first place."
"As I recall you were."
"Maybe next time you'll take my advice," he frowned as he studied the list scrolling across the screen between them. "Hmmm, senatorial aids, congressmen, scientists I can understand but why kill Hanson? I thought you wanted to bring her into the fold?"
"I did. But that was before I became better acquainted with her personality."
"Explain please."
"Hanson feels absolutely no remorse for all those innocent people that terrorist killed using her creation. Her sole and total focus is on perfecting Extremis and she will go to any and all lengths necessary to achieve that goal. And while this lack or morality would be beneficial, her utter lack of loyalty makes her not only unsuitable but a potential danger. If she believed it would advance her work, she would sell us out in a nanosecond. Besides, I now have all her files, every scrap of data on the Extremis. There are far more loyal scientists within my service whom I can assign the project to. Hanson is no longer needed."
"You're correct. You've made your argument for her demise."
"Exactly; a pawn that is no longer useful is to be sacrificed." Black nails danced across a control panel.
Responding to the typed commands, all around the platforms hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of transparent green chessboards phased into existence. But instead of the standard carved pieces, each board was populated by images of people.
People from all races, religions, and walks of life; from oldest to youngest, richest to poorest, and finally from common man to superhero or villain.
"Shakespeare once wrote that all the world's a stage, and the men and women merely players. However, in my humble opinion, the Great Bard was wrong. The world is not a stage but a game."
Rising to her feet she glided to the platform's very edge. A simple flick of the wrist summoned several of the boards to hover before her.
"Games within games within games Bernard; played on many levels and on numerous boards simultaneously. Where even the smallest action can affect the outcome of one game or spread its influence to dozens of others ultimately affecting even the Grand Game itself."
She fingered one chess piece, one that looked surprisingly like Doctor Doom.
"You play with dangerous pieces." he commented as she fondled the figure's cape.
"There is no one that does not lie within the scope of my reach. My games began centuries ago. Some moves have taken decades to plan and execute. Unlike our dear little ruler here, I have time as my ally and patience in abundance. I can easily wait for the proper moment to make the winning move. Doom, like so many other megalomaniacs, rush matters; allow their personal emotions to override their rational minds, and that only leads to mistakes and loss of valuable pieces. Such poor players themselves, but they do make excellent chess pieces for my games."
The current board floated away and another drifted into its place. "Most of my pieces never know of the hand that guides them. They foolishly believe each and every action, every decision, is solely of their own choice, never knowing that I have manipulated the events and people around them so they have no other recourse but to make the moves I have chosen."
On this board were positioned various superheroes with Captain America and Iron Man as the opposing Queens .
"My games advance exactly as I have predicted. By this time tomorrow the world will be mourning the death of Captain America and I shall be accepting delivery of one my most coveted specimens."
"Any number of things could go wrong." he reminded her. "Someone could stop the assassination or discover the body switch."
"Nonsense, Bernard, my work is flawless. Outside of my labs, no one has the capacity to distinguish between my creations and the real thing."
"You've lived long enough to know that nothing is impossible. New techniques and technology are being developed every day. All it takes is for one person to be in the right place at the right time." Bernard wagged a playful finger at her.
"Unless the very powers of Fate and Chaos themselves intercede, I have accounted for all the variables. My plan is unstoppable."
"Personally I've never liked words that begin with im- or un-; unstoppable, improbable, unthinkable, impossible, etcetera. I keep thinking of the word unsinkable and we both know what happened to the Titanic; glug…glug…glug."
"Pessimist."
tbc