Well, now that Bucky's here, things are going to get better, yes? Or maybe not...

All I can tell you is that this chapter contains a lot of feels and finally the next plot development that I have been withholding since I first started planning this story because it's a gigantic spoiler.

I have no regrets for how this chapter ends. None.


Chapter 7


It was going to be messy. Of course it was. Why had he expected anything different from plopping Steve's old friend from the forties here?

The worst part was that Barnes clearly didn't remember Steve, though he knew Natasha and evidently shared history with her. Of an intimate sort.

For the first time, Tony had some inkling of what it was like to be on the receiving end of an amnesiac person. But only in an abstract sort of way, since Steve was a friend and Tony didn't want to see him hurt (even if he'd hurt Steve).

"Steve?" Natasha asked, pulling away from Barnes to give Steve a concerned look.

"That's—" Steve broke off, evidently unable to find the words.

"This is James," Natasha said, her words loud in the absolute silence of the room.

"Also known as the Winter Soldier," Jarvis added when Natasha didn't. He shot Tony an angry scowl from behind Steve, clearly unhappy with Tony's life choices. Tony returned the scowl with a face.

"The Winter Soldier?" Steve clearly recognized the name. "Natasha, wasn't he—"

"In Russia when we were," Natasha finished smoothly, facing Barnes again. "We didn't see him."

"I saw you." Barnes's words were tinged with horror. "I saw you and those…things." He glanced at Steve.

"Leviathans." Natasha closed her eyes, shaking her head. She leaned imperceptibly into Barnes's frame, the movement so slight Tony almost missed it.

"I thought you were dead." Barnes reached up a hand to trace the shell of Natasha's ear, seemingly oblivious to everyone else.

"I'm not." Natasha's fingers curled into the cloth of Barnes's hoodie even as she stepped away. "How did you escape? I heard them say that they'd take care of you."

Barnes smirked darkly. "I do have some idea of how to hide my tracks. They couldn't find me once I went underground, and I didn't return to HYDRA. I didn't need to anymore." He angled Natasha a look that Tony couldn't read but Natasha understood judging from her soft smile.

Steve had sat down on the couch by now, face buried in his hands. Jarvis had a hand stroking up and down his back while watching Natasha and Barnes warily. Clint was wound as tight as a bowstring, and Bruce didn't seem to know whether to look at Steve or Barnes.

"I thought you were dead," Steve said into the silence, getting Barnes's attention. "I saw you fall." His voice was haunted, twisted by old grief.

Barnes blinked, face shuttering for a brief moment before he flinched, shaking his head. "What's your name?"

Steve looked up at him, a fragile hope dawning on his face. "Steve. Steve Rogers."

Barnes tilted his head to the side, giving Steve a dry smile. "Nice to meet you, Steve. I'm James."

The hope died a slow, agonizing death, though Tony could visibly see Steve steel himself before smiling back weakly.

"Awesome reunion and all," Clint said sharply, his tone like a knife, "but, Tony, what the fuck were you thinking meeting him by yourself?"

Tony gave Clint a cool look. "I wasn't by myself." The words were acerbic. He jabbed a thumb at Castiel, who hadn't moved from his position by Tony. "I was with him."

"And neither of you is trained to go up against an assassin," Clint fired back, face set in hard lines. "I don't care about Castiel's past; he's human now and he has no idea how to act like one."

"I wasn't expecting an assassin." Tony kept his voice soft, a cold anger hiding under it. "I was expecting the man Steve knew. The Winter Soldier is a so-called ghost, and the man broke into my lobby like a common burglar with no sense. Those aren't the actions of a legendary assassin."

Natasha gave Barnes a curious look. "Really."

Barnes just shrugged, one side of his mouth tugging up into a small smile. "I wasn't trying to hide."

"If you think I'd ever be that kind of idiot," Tony continued in that same soft tone, "then you never knew me at all."

Clint's face twisted angrily. "Yeah." His tone was final. "I guess we don't."

Tony let the stares of the others slide off him like ice water, turning to a silent Castiel and taking him by the elbow. "Come on; I'll show you where you're staying the night."

They stepped back into the elevator, the frigid silence of the room an almost palpable weight. Tony didn't look out as he reached for the button that was for the floor that wasn't on any existing blueprint and no one could see from the outside. Pepper had sounded completely resigned when answering Tony's confused questions about it (not that she'd known much about it beyond muttering "Fucking magic and lazy archangels" under her breath).

It wasn't until the doors closed that Castiel spoke, voice tinged with concern. "Tony—"

Tony stopped him wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose and feeling a familiar tension headache begin to build up. "Don't, Castiel."

It was a mess. He didn't know why he'd expected otherwise.


Taking the back route to his floor (namely the stairs) was probably cowardly of Tony, but he had no desire to put himself in the middle of that awkward situation in his living room. He much preferred the privacy of his room, where he could sulk in peace.

That notion crushed him to the floor the moment he entered his bedroom to have an excited Dummy jump on him and topple him over with a loud thud.

"Oops." Dummy cringed.

Tony groaned, unable to do much more from his prostrate position on the floor. He'd hit his head and his skull was throbbing in protest.

"And that's why you don't jump on people who aren't expecting it," Rhodey's voice said.

"But he always catches us!" Butterfingers' voice protested. "Even when we jumped from the vents!"

"You're not supposed to be in the vents," Pepper's voice said mildly. That explained where she had disappeared to from her office.

"Why," Tony wheezed, exhaling painfully. Dummy hadn't moved.

"Come on, Dummy." Pepper appeared in his field of vision, crouching down to peel Dummy off him. "Let him up."

Even without Dummy's weight it took Tony a bit to get his breath and then gradually sit up. He found that his bedroom had been commandeered by the kids and his two best friends. Not exactly what he'd been expecting.

"Why are you all in my bedroom?" he asked warily.

"Oh, I don't know," Pepper said sweetly, letting Dummy down. "Maybe it's because of the assassin you decided to meet by yourself?"

"There are other rooms," Tony pointed out, eyeing her carefully.

"But this is your room, Tony," Pepper said, raising an eyebrow.

"If you wanted to talk to me, you could've just waited outside the office," Tony said, slowly getting to his feet.

"Instead of giving you and Castiel some privacy and being called up to act as a relationship counselor for your team?" Pepper sounded irritated. "And then I'm shoved into a bedroom because there's a master assassin in the building and my idiotic boss has decided to go and meet him with no backup except for a complete stranger!"

"I knew what I was doing," Tony objected.

"You say that, but we know that most of the time you don't," Rhodey pointed out, sighing. He was sitting on the bed with Butterfingers on his lap.

"This time I did," Tony insisted irritably. "What kind of master assassin breaks into the lobby like a common burglar? He wasn't here to kill anyone."

"You had no guarantee of that," Pepper said fiercely. "Absolutely none. You're human, Tony, and you had better act like it. I won't have you throwing away your life because you're a fool and can't think of your family." Blinking, Pepper wiped at her eyes with a hand, inhaling sharply.

Tony's heart sank. "Pepper—"

Pepper's hand flew up, forestalling what he might have said. "I can't, Tony." Her lips twisted unhappily. "Seeing as how you're still alive, I'm assuming that there's no danger to be had. Good night." She brushed past Tony dismissively, her cold disregard hurting him more than anything one of his teammates could have done.

"Nice going, Tony," Rhodey said, meeting his eyes calmly.

Tony shifted uncomfortably, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm not sorry."

"I didn't expect you to be," Rhodey answered tiredly. "I understand taking risks in the name of the job, but this was just stupid, Tony."

Tony squashed down the guilt that rose in him. "That's me." He kept his voice even.

"Not always." Rhodey lifted Butterfingers off his lap and set her down on the bed. "Mind keeping your dumb dad company while I go see what I can do for Pepper?"

Butterfingers gave him a thumbs up, grinning toothily. "You got it, Uncle Rhodey!"

"That's my girl." Rhodey fondly ruffled her hair, earning himself a disgruntled face in the process.

"You're leaving, too?" Tony was unable to resist asking.

Rhodey gave him a look as he stopped beside him. "Tony, man, I love you, but there are times that I just want to strangle you. This is one of those times, and it'll be better for both of us if I leave now."

Throat thick, Tony nodded, arms coming down to his side as he shuffled away from the door. "All right."

Rhodey gave him another long look before sighing and clasping Tony's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll talk later," he promised. "Spend time with your kids." He left then, closing the door behind him.

Tony stood there, back to the door, staring at three wide-eyed kids. He had absolutely no fucking clue what to do.

Dummy decided the matter, coming closer and reaching for Tony's hand to take hold of it. "I think you did good," he informed him solemnly, dark eyes wide.

"Yeah," Butterfingers agreed, smiling widely. "You can do anything."

You added something in that foreign language, then gave Tony a dark scowl.

"Yeah, I can't do that," Tony said resignedly, smiling sadly at You. "Sorry."

Giving a dismissive shrug and smiling softly now, You went for Tony's other hand and tugged him to the bed. "It's bedtime," he said, giving Tony a look that dared him to argue.

Tony didn't. "You guys staying?"

Dummy tugged eagerly at his hand, crawling onto the comforter next to Tony. "Sleepover?" he asked excitedly, bouncing happily.

Tony eyed them all critically, thinking of what little kids had to do before bed. "You guys brush your teeth and shower?"

"Yes," the three chorused, grinning widely at him.

"I haven't," Tony told them, "so why don't you tuck yourself in and I'll be back in a bit."

There was a short scuffle before all three of them were under the covers and peeking out to give Tony eager looks. Smiling rather nervously, Tony slid off the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom.

By the time he was done and back in his dark room, he stopped short upon seeing that they had fallen asleep. The sight stuck something in his throat, and Tony was momentarily at a loss for air.

There was something so…unreal about seeing them in his larger than necessary bed. Butterfingers and You had taken up one side and were tangled up, You lying half on top of Butterfingers. Dummy had the other side and was curled up in a ball facing the empty space between them. An empty space that was perhaps not coincidentally exactly large enough for Tony to slip into.

How often had Gabriel done this with them?

Often enough to form a routine, as they didn't stir as Tony carefully slipped under the covers. It wasn't until he'd settled comfortably into the space between them that Dummy murmured indistinctly and scooted in closer, head coming to rest on Tony's shoulder and warm fingers curling into his nightshirt.

Tony couldn't breathe, too caught up in a surge of protectiveness and love for these kids that he had never in his life expected. He didn't deserve them, but he was going to do his damn best not to mess it up.

It wasn't until twin meows came from beside the bed and two warm weights jumped up onto the mattress that Tony found himself breathing again. He felt the two kittens settle themselves around his feet before a soft rumbling filled the air.

Inhaling quietly, Tony closed his eyes, trying to relax.

He had a lot to deal with tomorrow, but he could take in the peace and unconditional love from his kids for now.

He didn't even notice when the dark of his eyelids faded away to the breathtaking formation of stars and galaxies at the universe's beginnings.


"If you think I'd ever be that kind of idiot, then you never knew me at all." The quiet tone those words were delivered in made it all the worse.

Clint's response sounded utterly disgusted. "Yeah." His tone was final. "I guess we don't."

Steve watched in dismay as Tony turned his back to them and put a hand on Castiel's elbow. "Come on; I'll show you where you're staying the night."

A minute later, Tony and Castiel left the room.

The moment the elevator doors closed, Clint scoffed in disgust, shaking his head. "Ass."

"Clint," Steve chastised quietly.

"No, screw it, Steve," Clint snapped. "There's nothing that calls for that attitude. I don't care how he's feeling, he shouldn't treat us like that."

"He seemed pretty reasonable," Bucky murmured, sounding rather confused.

"He can be," Natasha told him, "but that depends."

"Trust me," Clint said to Bucky, "there is nothing reasonable about going off to meet you with absolutely no backup."

A small smile flitted across Bucky's face, one that Steve hadn't seen before. "He was in no danger."

"But did he know that?"

Bucky inclined his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "He did."

Once more, the sight of his best friend – alive – after thinking he was dead put a stopper in Steve's throat. He was having trouble breathing, and it wasn't just the pain in his chest from Tony's harsh remarks. It was the fact that it was Bucky standing in front of him, notably more haggard and unkempt and twitchier than Steve had ever seen excepting the period after he'd been recovered from Zola's base, but still undeniably Bucky. Steve could scarcely believe it; it was almost too good to be true.

But he knew Bucky like the back of his hand, and no amount of scruff or wariness would put Steve off from recognizing his childhood best friend, the man who had stuck through thick and thin with Steve. The man who Steve had never thought he'd see again.

The fact that Bucky was standing here now, alive, was more than Steve could have ever hoped for. So it didn't matter that Bucky didn't know who Steve was or didn't remember his name. It didn't matter that the only person Bucky knew was Natasha. It didn't matter. The only thing that did was that Bucky was here, and Steve had a second chance with the friend he had failed.

Seeming to sense Steve's breathlessness, Jarvis returned to stroking Steve's back soothingly. The contact drew Steve out of his thoughts and back into reality, which was Natasha leading Bucky to an armchair that was situated a bit further away from the main sitting area. The armchair had been hauled in for Loki and hadn't moved from its spot even though Loki was currently in Asgard.

Natasha didn't move away from Bucky, instead perching on the armrest and keeping an arm slung over Bucky's shoulders. Steve didn't miss the way Bucky leaned into the touch, and jealousy rose up in him before he could stop it.

Biting down on his lip so hard he could taste blood, Steve told himself to stop it. He wasn't Bucky's only friend, and he wasn't going to begrudge him a comforting touch when he needed it. From the way Bucky looked, Steve doubted he'd been in a safe place anytime recently.

"I'm glad that you're all right," Natasha said quietly, looking down at Bucky.

Bucky looked up at her, smiling softly. It was the same smile that he'd given Steve when they were younger, and it was jarring seeing it directed towards someone else. "Not as glad as I am that you are."

"It was close," Natasha admitted. "But thanks to Gabriel it worked out."

"Gabriel?"

Natasha hesitated briefly, lips pinching. "He isn't here anymore," she said eventually. "Taking care of the monsters you saw ended up being more permanent than we anticipated."

Bucky frowned, tilting his head back. "Seems like an odd job for just one man," he said candidly.

Natasha's smirk was darkly amused. "He wasn't just a man."

"No kidding," Clint muttered, shuffling around behind the bar. Bruce was eyeing him disapprovingly.

"Considering what I've seen, I'm not surprised," Bucky said. He reached up with his right hand to take hold of Natasha's, gently stroking her knuckles. "I'll have to thank him when I can."

"Likelihood of that happening without a punch to the face or your heart getting scraped out of your chest with a toothpick is absolutely zero," Clint said acerbically, tossing back a large glass of clear liquid that Steve dearly hoped wasn't vodka.

"Please," Pepper's voice said, coming from the corner where the hallway to the rest of the floor was. "He's more likely to use a fingernail." Entering the living room, she came up to Bucky. "You must be the lovely assassin Tony decided to meet. It's a pleasure to see that you really are as harmless as he assumed you were."

Bucky blinked in surprise, evidently taken aback at the force that was an angry Pepper Potts. "Okay?"

"Hey, Pepper," Rhodey said, rushing into the room, "remember what you just chewed out Tony for? You're doing it."

"He really is harmless," Pepper said, her cheeks flushed in anger. She flapped a hand at Bucky and Natasha. "Big cuddly panda bear. Or raccoon. You look like you'd be a raccoon." She squinted slightly, gesturing up to her face. "Some badly applied eyeliner and you'll be just—"

Rhodey had a hand over her mouth, grinning sheepishly down at Bucky. "Sorry about that. She's just a bit pissed off at the moment."

Bucky's eyes darted to the side, his eyebrows scrunching together. "I think I understand," he said slowly, blinking. A moment later he looked past Rhodey and Pepper at Steve, uncertainty and fear warring on his face. "Back alley fights?" he asked.

Steve let out a breathless laugh, feeling the hot burn of tears prickling his eyes. "All the time," he choked out. "You hated it."

"'Cause you kept beating everyone up and I had to mop up the mess?"

"More like they kept beating me up." Steve gave him a watery smile. "I wasn't always this big."

Bucky tilted his head, eyes scanning Steve's form for a brief second before they closed and his forehead wrinkled in thought. "No… You were a hell of a lot smaller."

"You remember, James?" Natasha asked gently, unmoving.

"I think…" Bucky pressed a hand to his face, leaning forward and dislodging Natasha's arm. "Just shadows – blurry images. It's there, but I can't get to it."

"It's okay," Steve said quickly, perching on the edge of the couch cushion. "We've got time."

Bucky's lips curled into a small smile that Steve hadn't seen before, probably because Bucky usually wasn't one for shy, awkward smiles. "Yeah." His voice was quiet, and he looked up at Natasha with an expression that Steve recognized as adoration. "We do."

Pepper pried Rhodey's hand off her mouth, giving him a glare that promised death. She turned to Clint. "How good are you at mixing drinks?"

Clint arched an eyebrow, swishing his unidentified drink around in his glass. "My best friend's Russian. What do you think?"

"Mix me something strong," Pepper said. "If I'm going to make ill-advised life choices, then I'm going out with style."

"Pepper—" Rhodey started, alarm crossing his face.

"Shush." Pepper slapped a hand over his mouth. "You should join me. God"—she rolled her eyes—"knows we'll need it tomorrow.

"I can do without the epic hangover from hell, thanks, especially when dealing with Tony."

"Suit yourself." Pepper shrugged, clicking her way over to Clint and tossing her heels off to sit down on a barstool.

"He really good at mixing?" Bucky asked Natasha curiously.

"He has me for a bestie," Natasha said entirely seriously. "What do you think?"

Following a few seconds' deliberation, Bucky nodded and stood, also making his way to the bar. "Mind if I join in?"

Clint was already throwing drinks together. "Have at it, new best buddy."

"This is such a bad idea," Bruce muttered, pinching his nose.

Not deigning to response to Bruce's probably very apt statement, Steve craned his head back to meet Jarvis's eyes. "You going to join Tony?" He kept his tone carefully even.

Jarvis responded with a sad smile, shaking his head lightly. "They are already asleep," he answered quietly. "I won't disturb them."

With a pang, Steve realized that Jarvis was probably just as lost – if not even more so – than the rest of them. He had been closest to Tony, and it must be extraordinarily difficult to go back to the relationship he had prior to Afghanistan.

"So," Steve continued, forcing cheer into his voice, "want to get drunk with us?"

"Steve," Bruce groaned in dismay, burying his face in his hands.

"What? It's not like I can get drunk."

And it was definitely a day for getting drunk.


Tony was woken up rather rudely by someone rolling on top of him. It took him a breathless moment before reorienting himself in a physical body. He was not dancing around the universe as his dream would have suggested, and the sudden shift to a purely physical state startled him.

And then he wondered why it should startle him since he'd always had a body.

"Are you awake now?" Dummy whispered, patting his cheek.

Tony cracked one eye open to give him a not very menacing glare. "Thanks to you."

Dummy didn't look very apologetic. "Sorry."

"We're hungry," Butterfingers declared from next to Tony.

"Are you?" Tony craned his neck to smile at her. "What do you want me to do about that?"

Butterfingers made a face at him. "Make us breakfast!"

"Hmm." Tony wriggled partly out from under Dummy to sit up against the headboard. "You want me to cook?"

"Pancakes?" Dummy asked hopefully.

"Only if you want me to burn them," Tony said, smiling apologetically at his eldest. "What about an omelet?"

"You burn that, too," You said sleepily.

"Do you or do you not want breakfast?" Tony demanded.

"We do!" Dummy assured him.

"Then I'm making omelets. Get off, Dummy. I need to change."

Pouting, Dummy did. Then he rolled himself up in the blankets. "I'm staying here," he declared.

Tony patted the lump that was Dummy. "You do that."

Wiggling out from between them, Tony slid off the bed and headed to the bathroom, hearing twin thumps from behind him shortly before two little bodies beat him to the destination.
Resigned to sharing his bathroom with the two fur balls, Tony locked the door.

He was done in fifteen minutes, opting against a shower since he had no plans for the day and had showered the previous night. He just shaped his goatee before cleaning up after himself and leaving the bathroom.

Chattering loudly, the kids followed him to the kitchen, scrambling for seats before they activated the holographic display on the table and began squabbling over coding.

Tony had no idea what it was about, except for the fact that he was feeling distinctly proud. Smiling to himself, Tony fished out the eggs and assorted condiments.

He'd just started whipping the eggs by the time Castiel shuffled in, obviously uncertain as to his welcome.

"Morning," Tony said, nodding at him. "Fancy an omelet?"

Castiel nodded in response, a small smile playing at his lips as he watched the kids. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. You haven't even tasted it."

Sitting down at the table, Castiel was instantly pulled into the discussion, thought it didn't look like he'd be very helpful judging from the lost look on his face. He was saved from further confusion by Jarvis's arrival, who gave the sight of Tony cooking a skeptical eye before opting for helping the kids with their coding issues.

Tony would have felt insulted at the skepticism if he wasn't currently having problems keeping the omelet an omelet and not turning it into scrambled eggs. Flipping the damn thing had always been problematic.

In another fifteen minutes Tony had successfully managed five decent omelets and one plate of scrambled eggs. Only one omelet was slightly burned; the others were a bright, cheery yellow.

Tony kept the scrambled eggs for himself and gave Castiel the best omelet, leaving the rest for the others.

After a small misunderstanding considering the distinct lack of salt on the omelets since Tony hadn't felt with dealing with complaints about using too much, everyone dug in happily. Or most everyone. Castiel finished his plate but didn't seem to have an opinion beyond the fact that he didn't like the bell peppers.

That was good to know, but Tony suspected that Jarvis wasn't going to be letting him at the stove anytime soon considering the stray pieces of food strewn about all over the countertops and metal.

In fact, Jarvis didn't even let Tony clean up, ushering both he and Castiel out and retaining the kids so that they could help clean up and "instill proper manners for later in life, Dummy."

"I don't think it sets a good example to ask two of the adults to leave," Castiel told Tony, sounding perplexed.

"Jarvis can make just about anything make sense," Tony said, shrugging. "I've learned not to ask."

"So he bullshits?" Castiel asked.

"Eighty percent of what anyone here does is bullshit," Tony informed him seriously, bumping his shoulder.

"So it is human."

"Probably. Can't say anything about any aliens out there."

"From what I have heard, aliens tend to bullshit, too." Castiel smiled wanly. "But I've not met one beyond the stories my siblings have told me."

Tony eyed him curiously, keeping pace with him until they stopped in front of the windows. "You must have a lot of stories."

"I've lived a very long time," Castiel said bluntly, looking out at the city, "but not as long as the archangels."

"I can't imagine that." And he couldn't. It wasn't even millions or billions of years he was looking at; it was trillions. The human brain just wasn't equipped to handle numbers of that size.

"Humans aren't supposed to," Castiel said softly, face soft in the morning light that was peeking over the buildings. He didn't look entirely out of place in his freshly washed clothes, though that trench coat was just ridiculous, but there was still something rather inhuman about him. It might've been his eyes or even the way he carried himself, just a bit too stiff to be human.

"And now you're one of us." Tony's voice was subdued.

Castiel gave him a small smile. "It's not so bad – being human. Emotions are more visceral than I'm used to," he admitted, "but overall…" He took a breath, eyes closing. "I have a better idea of what I've spent the last five years protecting."

Unable to find a suitable response to that, Tony kept quiet, leaning his shoulder against the window and joining Castiel in watching the view.

"I need to go back," Castiel said suddenly, startling Tony.

"Go back where?" Tony asked, eyes flicking to Castiel.

"Where I woke up." Castiel met his eyes, desperation written all over his face. "I need to see if there's something I missed – some sign of how I can go back. I can't stay here, Tony."

Tony kept his voice soothing. "That wasn't the plan, Castiel. Are you sure you want to do it today?"

"Yes." Castiel shook his head, agitated. "The time difference is incalculable; I can't risk staying here any longer and leaving them alone."

"Probably not really incalculable if I had more variables," Tony commented offhandedly, pulling out his phone and checking his calendar. He'd done most of his work yesterday when he should've done it today, so at least he didn't have to go in the office unless he wanted to. And he didn't. "Where'd you wake up?"

"A park."

"Right," Tony murmured, remembering where he'd picked Castiel up. "You were just outside Central Park when I got your call, so that's probably where you were. You didn't go far before calling, did you?"

Castiel shook his head, eyes watching Tony inscrutably.

"Okay, good." Tony put his phone back in his pocket. "Let me get my stuff together and we can go. Parking's a nightmare around that place, so we'll take a cab."

Leaving Castiel in the living room, Tony went back to his room to get his wallet. Jarvis met him outside. "Are you certain about this, sir?"

"About this?" Tony shrugged, rifling through his wallet to be sure he had enough small change. "Yeah."

"I can go with you—"

"Take care of the kids," Tony interrupted him, shouldering past him and putting his wallet in his back pocket. "I'm not meeting an assassin or doing anything else that's potentially dangerous. Castiel and I are just checking out the site of where he woke up; that's it. I'm a grown adult, Jarvis. I do not need supervision for everything I do."

Jarvis's face smoothened out. "I understand," he said tightly. "Then I shall let the others know where you have left to once they wake up."

"Sounds good," Tony said, squashing down his immediate regret for treating Jarvis so harshly. His point still stood; he didn't need to be babysat.

Castiel was by the elevator when Tony joined him, and he gave Jarvis a nod.

Jarvis had his arms folded across his chest as he stood there. "Be safe," he told Tony firmly.

"Anything happens, I'll give you a ring," Tony reassured him, giving him an apologetic smile.

"I assume you mean a phone ring and not an actual ring," Castiel said blandly as the elevator doors opened.

"I could give him a ring, too," Tony drawled, smirking and winking at Jarvis.

"I would much prefer the phone, sir," Jarvis retorted, looking amused despite himself.

Tony waved his fingers in goodbye as the doors closed between them.

Castiel said nothing else, and Tony didn't feel the need to speak either. They breezed through the lobby with only a few strange glances Castiel's way, but the employees were used enough to Tony's bizarre antics that they weren't distracted for long. Being able to work through distractions was one of the hallmarks of a Stark Industries employee.

It was sunny out, and the air just a bit nippy, so Tony put on his sunglasses, waving down a cab as he did.

"I have never been in a cab," Castiel said, watching Tony.

"Then you're in for a treat," Tony said dryly. "Don't touch anything and you're good. The only reason we're taking a cab is because I don't fancy parking several blocks away from the park."

Castiel's brow furrowed, but he didn't say anything else as Tony opened the door to the cab and waved him in.

"Central Park," Tony said to the driver once the door was closed. "Just drop us off outside."

The cab driver set the meter. "You got it."

The drive passed in silence, Tony leaning an elbow against the window and propping his head on his hand. Castiel was much less relaxed, sitting stiffly and staring straight ahead.

Dropping them off as close to the entrance of the park as was possible, the driver pulled to a stop by the curb. Tony gave him a significant tip and meaningfully nudged Castiel's knee with his own so he would get out first as he was right next to the sidewalk.

"So," Tony started once they were out of the rather smelly cab, "I figure we'll head inside and start walking. D'you remember where you woke up exactly?"

Castiel shook his head, eyes scanning the greenery inside the park. "It was dark when I woke," he said, "and it looks different in the day. But I think I might remember some of the turns."

"Can't do anything if we don't try," Tony said easily, leading the way.

Central Park was usually extraordinarily busy, being an absolute oasis in a city of brick, steel, and cement, and today was no different. Tony kept close to Castiel, thankful that given his incognito clothes and sunglasses, no one gave him a second look. Having a crowd of people around him begging for his autograph or demanding info on what Stark Industries was doing about what had happened two weeks ago would have been a nightmare.

"I didn't wake up near a road," Castiel said ten minutes later.

Tony hummed thoughtfully, pulling open a map of Central Park on his phone. "Do you remember how long of a walk it was until you reached one?"

"Five minutes? And then maybe fifteen or twenty minutes until I left the park." Castiel's shoulders drew up to his ears. "My sense of time is off," he admitted softly.

There was nothing Tony could say to that, so he kept his head down as he magnified the map so he could get a closer look at what he was searching for. They could keep walking for another five minutes before heading into the grass and seeing what Castiel remembered.

"Trees, or were you in a clearing?" Tony asked after another minute.

"Trees."

"Doesn't narrow it down much," Tony said dryly, thumbing the screen off and putting his phone back in his pocket.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. A walk's good for the soul, or so I hear."

Castiel gave him a skeptical look. "I've not heard that."

"Trust the human here," Tony quipped, nudging Castiel's side playfully. "Come on. Let's go off the well-traveled road and into the trees. We're not going to find it here."

Obediently following after Tony, Castiel said nothing as they left the busy street behind and entered the shade and relative quiet of the trees. It was still loud considering the chatter of people and the rumble of cars that drove by, but the foliage absorbed most of the din.

"Everything looks the same," Castiel said, sounding dismayed. They'd been walking through the trees for several minutes.

Tony wasn't all that surprised. "They're trees."

"I know, but…" Castiel glanced back at where they'd come from. "I should've paid more attention."

"Hindsight's twenty-twenty and all, but it's pitch dark here in the night," Tony said, turning back to Castiel. "There's no way you could've seen anything noticeable enough to note as a landmark."

"So I give up?" Castiel demanded angrily. "I can't do that, Tony. I need to get back."

"And you will." Tony kept his voice calm. "But we might not be able to do this on foot. I can rig up something that'll scan the place for odd energy signatures, or maybe send some drones through that can cover the area faster than we can."

Castiel's jaw tightened. "How long will that take?"

Tony shrugged. "Depends. I might be able to send the suit out with the excuse that it's an Avengers thing, or I can send the drones out in a few days. For a sweep in energy signatures, that can be done today. I've got the equipment."

"It needs to be done quickly," Castiel insisted. "I can't afford to wait long."

"Actually," Aldrich's smarmy voice drawled from behind Tony, "I think you can take your time."

Tony spun around on his heel, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he took in the sight of Aldrich in casual clothes and a chilling smile on his face, his head tilted slightly to the side. "What are you doing here?" he asked flatly.

"It's a park, Tony," Aldrich said, smiling. "Completely free. I'm just walking. Like you."

"Right." Tony took a step closer to Castiel, keeping his front facing Aldrich. "I kinda think you've got something else going on."

Aldrich's eyes turned into slits, and his smile broadened. "You do, do you?"

"Tony?" Castiel breathed questioningly.

Tony shushed him with a hand to the stomach, stretching out behind himself. "What do you want, Aldrich?"

"I think it's more of a question of what you can do for us," Aldrich said, rolling his shoulders and his neck.

"I'm not into genetic engineering for making super soldiers," Tony said bluntly, "so you'll have to go get your funding elsewhere if Tiberius's money isn't cutting it."

Aldrich's smile stretched into a predatory grin, his eyes glinting orange. "What makes you think I'm after your money, Tony? No, I'm here for Castiel."

The fact that Aldrich knew Castiel's name despite Tony not having used it since entering Central Park set off all his alarm bells, and he could physically feel Castiel stiffening behind him.

"I'm not interested," Castiel said evenly, his tone betraying no emotion.

"You know what, Castiel? It doesn't really matter if you're interested or not. You don't have a choice."

It was literally a blink of an eye before something whammed into Tony and threw him aside into the grass. Skidding painfully into a tree, Tony caught sight of Aldrich lifting Castiel up bodily with one hand on his throat. That strength wasn't natural.

That didn't matter. Nothing was happening to Castiel on his watch.

Scrambling to his feet, Tony lunged at Aldrich, only for the other to punch him in the chest. All oxygen was forced out of his lungs in one painful whoosh, and Tony slumped to the grass, gasping.

"You're weak, Gabriel," Aldrich said scornfully from above Tony, "but still useful. Bag him."

Still gasping for air that wasn't coming, Tony scrambled for his phone, barely managing to tap out the emergency code before something slammed into his head and he was out cold.


Tony woke with a splutter, coughing as cold water ran down his nose and mouth. His chest gave a bone-deep throb and his head was pounding, most of the pain located on the side.

Blinking, he cleared the water blurring his vision, trying to bring up his hands to wipe off his face, only to be brought up short when he realized his hands were tied behind his back through the bars of a chair.

"Wakey, wakey, Tony," he heard Tiberius's voice sing.

Groaning softly, Tony dropped his chin, scrunching his brow as he tried to deal with his headache from being knocked out. "Shut up." Shaking his head and suffering through a wave of dizziness, Tony opened his eyes, his eyes taking a few seconds to focus on the sight of Castiel similarly tied to a chair directly across from him.

The room they were in was dark save for the yellowish lights illuminating the space. The walls were a grimy gray, and the floor was absolutely filthy with black dust everywhere. Something about that set off faint alarms in Tony, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

"You sure you didn't break his ribs?" he heard Tiberius ask someone.

"They're just bruised," Aldrich's voice answered; Tony felt fingers play at the hairs of his nape, eliciting a shiver of disgust from him. "I do know how to moderate my strength."

"Don't touch me." Tony jerked his head away from Aldrich's fingers.

"Don't worry." Aldrich moved into his line of sight, mouth curled in disgust. "There's nothing about you that attracts me."

Tony found his own lips curling in response, and he purposefully looked away from Aldrich, focusing on where Tiberius was standing right by Castiel. "What are you doing, Ty?"

"Oh, this wasn't planned," Tiberius said cheerfully, grinning. "Imagine my surprise when I was out and about one morning and saw dear little Castiel being picked up one Tony Stark. I just had to find out what my dear brother was doing here." His hand came to squeeze Castiel's shoulder.

Castiel's head jerked in surprise, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, didn't expect that, did you?" Tiberius's grinned broadened, and he straightened, taking his hand off Castiel's shoulder. "No, I suppose you wouldn't," he continued. "A bit human now, aren't you?"

"Tiberius," Tony said in a low, dangerous tone, "what the hell is going on?"

"Shh, Gabriel." Tiberius put a finger to his lips.

Tony jerked back in surprise at the name. How did he know?

"You really should tell your friends to keep things private," Tiberius continued in a conversational tone. "In the middle of a party? Anyone could overhear."

Damn Reed. Tony had known that would come back to bite him in the ass. "I'll be sure to let him know," he bit out, fixing Tiberius with a cold glare.

"Just as human as the rest of us, aren't you, Gabe?" Tiberius smirked, seemingly uncaring of Tony's simmering fury.

"Who are you?" Castiel asked, glaring up at Tiberius.

"I'm hurt you don't recognize me, Castiel." Tiberius moved to stand in-between them. "After all, I was your superior for such a long time."

It took only a breath, and then Castiel's eyes widened in obvious recognition. "Zachariah?"

"Ring-ding-ding! We have a winner!" Tiberius shot Castiel finger guns, his grin sharpening.

"You're dead," Castiel said, eyes wide. "Dean killed you."

Tiberius's – Zachariah – face twisted in anger. "Oh, he did. Said yes to Michael and then turned around and stabbed me through the throat. Winchesters – absolutely no manners."

"You're one to talk," Castiel said venomously. "What was it you did before? Took Sam's lungs away and gave Dean cancer?"

Tiberius rolled his eyes. "All in the name of the job," he dismissed. "How else was I going to get their cooperation? After all, you failed! But then," he continued, his eyes hardening, "you never really tried."

"You were wrong," Castiel stated firmly, jaw set. "Dare I follow orders from a menagerie of liars?"

Tiberius's mouth twisted. "You always were amusing," he said flatly. "Always curious, always asking questions, always wondering. You never listened! Centuries of planning gone down the drain, because of you!" The last word was a shout. "Because you and those moronic apes decided that paradise was too good for you!"

"Because we have free will," Castiel fired back, "because it wasn't written in the cards. You manipulated them and claimed it was fate, but it was nothing more than the machinations of jealous children."

Tiberius swelled angrily, cheeks flushed, when Aldrich cut in, "Zachariah, enough. This is how Castiel works. Instills doubt and lets it grow like a seed. Only to carve it right out when it doesn't grow the way he wants." Aldrich tilted his head, gazing at Castiel. "Isn't that right, Castiel?"

Castiel stared up at him, confusion written all over his face. "No."

Tiberius had recovered and was smirking at Tony now. "It doesn't matter. Can't do anything about it here." He turned back to Castiel. "Which is where you come in."

Castiel's brow furrowed in obvious confusion, though he said nothing

"Our newest arrival!" Tiberius said cheerily. "Fresh off the press in his very own vessel, unlike the rest of us sorry saps."

"I can't take you back," Castiel protested.

"But he can." Tiberius pointed at Tony, who abruptly found his hair fisted by Aldrich, whose eyes were burning orange.

Tony swallowed, willing himself not to show any pain. "If I could, I would've sent Castiel back yesterday."

"Our esteemed archangel," Tiberius continued, heedless of Tony's objection.

"I'm not anything!" Tony snarled furiously, rocking forward despite Aldrich's hold on his hair. A second later he inhaled sharply as Aldrich wrenched upwards.

"Be careful how you speak," Aldrich cautioned, his fingers just a tad bit too hot. His neck was swirling orange, and his irises similarly so.

"What did you do to yourself?" Tony demanded.

Aldrich smirked, head tilting to the side. "Extremis really is a marvel," he remarked casually. "Not quite what I had before, but infinitely better than being one of the mud monkeys." Out of the corner of Tony's eye, he saw Castiel startle at the insult. "They're so…messy."

"Uriel?" Castiel breathed, eyes wide. "You, too?"

"Oh yes, Castiel," Aldrich snapped, those orange eyes cutting to him. "Anael may have killed me, but I woke up here. Like Zachariah; like Gabriel here." His fingers tightened.

"Your family is messed up," Tony hissed, regretting it immediately after as Aldrich suddenly slammed his fist into his already bruised ribs. Tony hadn't even seen it coming.

"Your family, too, Gabriel," Aldrich hissed, "no matter that you left us in the dust millennia ago."

"For good reason apparently," Tony wheezed, hoping that nothing had been fractured. He just had to hold on long enough for the Avengers to come.

"You always were a coward," Tiberius said softly, watching him without pity. "Following along like a soldier to the beat—"

"You were no different!" Castiel snapped, enraged. "Or were you acting on your own initiative instead of the orders of Raphael and Michael? Be careful what stones you toss, Zachariah, lest the glass house you break is your own."

"As if you were any better, soldier," Tiberius sneered. "Unquestioning, obedient—"

"You said I wasn't," Castiel said, eyes bright. "Can't have it both ways. Was I an obedient soldier who followed orders? Or was I the one who rebelled and threw your plans down the drain?"

"Obedient to yourself and the mud monkeys," Aldrich said. "You always were too soft, Castiel."

"Perhaps." Castiel kept his chin high. "Or maybe I was just following our Father's last orders. Which you all carelessly disregarded because you think humans are lesser."

"Like you were thinking of that," Tiberius scoffed. "No, the only thing on your mind was the Righteous Man, whom you listened to over the calls of your family."

Castiel's eyes glittered. "Maybe." His smile was cold. "You'll never know regardless."

"I'm sure I can find out," Tiberius said, reaching out and fisting his hand in Castiel's dark hair, pulling his head back. "I seem to recall a certain someone singing like a bird in our reeducation program. And given how much less…resilient you are now, I think it would be most interesting to hear what you have to say."

"I've been to Hell and back, faced down the likes of Lucifer and lived to tell the tale, and swallowed the denizens of Purgatory whole," Castiel breathed, unflinchingly meeting Tiberius's gaze. "But go on and try." The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. "You'll not get anything from me."

Tiberius reeled back, a mask of pure fury on his face. "Maybe not from you." His voice was dangerously low. "But what if we do this?" He snapped his fingers, pointing back at Aldrich.

Tony barely had time to wonder what was going on before Aldrich struck him across the face, whipping his head to the side with the force of the blow. His head rang with the impact.

He had no time to recover when he was brutally punched in the stomach, just enough force used to avoid rupturing anything but enough so that Tony felt like throwing up.

"Are you his lap dog, Uriel?" he heard Castiel ask in a furious tone. "Going from killing our brethren in the name of Lucifer to following the orders of a lowly human?"

"What makes you think I'm human like Gabriel there?" Tiberius drawled.

Aldrich hadn't hit him again, so Tony took the chance and straightened out, working his sore jaw as he turned his head to face Castiel. His face was one large throbbing bruise, and he had no doubt that it was going to look horrible tomorrow.

"You're going to regret this," Tony said, pinning Tiberius with a hard stare. "Painfully."

Tiberius gave him an unimpressed glance. "You were once something to be feared, but now you are no better than the rest of those animals out there. Regardless of what you were before, it only matters what you are now."

"Are you even hearing yourself, Ty?" Tony snapped his mouth at Aldrich's hand when the other moved to silence him. "What the hell were you when we met? An angel? Or human?"

"I have ascended," Tiberius sneered, standing proudly.

Tony caught sight of Aldrich rolling his eyes where Tiberius couldn't see it, though the other quickly slapped Tony's face away when he caught him watching.

Restraining a pained whimper, Tony squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to relax his face. He'd taken in a deep breath when the metal door slammed open and a man with tattoos covering every visible inch of his body save for his head almost fell in.

"The Avengers!" was all the man said breathlessly, skin and eyes simmering orange.

Tony's mouth curled into a pained but triumphant grin when Tiberius shot him an accusingly furious look. "Looks like your time's run out, Zachariah."

Tiberius gestured for the other man to get back out, shooting Aldrich a look that Tony couldn't decipher before Aldrich also left.

"I'm not done with you yet, Castiel," Tiberius said, giving Castiel a venomous glare.

"Does it look like I care?" Castiel fired back, voice similarly venomous.

"You should." Tiberius backed up to the open door, taking something that Aldrich handed him. "You said my time's run out, Gabriel?" He smirked, pulling something out of the black device he was holding. "So's yours."

The door slammed shut seconds after the black cylindrical device Tiberius threw into the room landed between Tony and Castiel.

Tony lost his breath upon seeing what it was. "Oh shit."

"What?" Castiel demanded, tugging ineffectively at his bonds. "What is it?"

Tony looked up at him, fear written all over his face. "I'm sorry, Castiel; I'm so sorry—"

The grenade that Tiberius had thrown into the room exploded.


Keep in mind, the next chapter will be up on Monday, though whether there'll be any answers in it isn't very likely...

Several of you made extremely accurate guesses as to Tiberius's and Aldrich's identities, and I am extraordinarily pleased with myself that I managed to nail their characters to the point that you managed to guess that Zachariah was Tiberius and Uriel was Aldrich.

So...I have no regrets for how I ended this... *slips into bunker*