Chapter 10: The Stepford Superheroes' Club
Tony cracked his jaw as he let out a huge yawn. Creeping around at night, though a bit of an adrenaline rush, did nothing for his beauty sleep. Stretching, he staggered off of his cot and ambled down to the cafeteria for the morning ritual the staff insisted was breakfast.
He offered Frank a half smile that was quickly broken by another yawn, before flopping into the nearest chair. The orderly sneered, but held his position eyeing the patients donning blue scrubs. Tony held in a chuckle, knowing that Frank's day was about to get interesting.
Bruce glanced up from his bowl of sludge that was billed as oatmeal, giving some pinched half look that seemed like he was trying to surpass his curiosity over how the night fact finding mission went. Sticking to his guns and the notion that crazy is a crazy does, he fought back the urge to ask, burying his thoughts and his spoon in his oatmeal. Getting involved was only going to derail Banner from his goal of getting better and reuniting with Betty. He had a life waiting for him and there was no way he was going to let it be one trapped as a monster.
Tony tapped his fingers on the table exuding bubbly excitement that made everyone in the room uncomfortable. "Thank you," he chirped, accepting his tray of food and meds from the orderly. Stark would have reveled in the uneasiness he was stirring within the help, but he was too full of nervous energy. The overly cheerful attitude was a distraction to keep him from staring at the computer located on the other side of the observation window located at the back of cafeteria. He just needed Frank and his partner to step away from the back door and his magical fingers would have that computer telling him all its secrets.
Rogers hesitantly sauntered in, looking like sleep had been an elusive creature he had failed to catch. He had spent all night, tossing and turning, in deliberation of his part in Stark's plan. With the early rays of dawn, Steve had given into the madness, deciding he really had nothing to lose; he was already locked away in a place where the current fashion accessory had sleeves that buckled in the back, how much worse could it get?
There was a disturbing stillness in the cafeteria as everyone attempted to look anywhere else other than at the newest soul present. The chair that still sat unoccupied at the end of the table emphasized an emptiness keenly felt by all the patients. Tony briefly entertained the idea of calling off the impossible mission in favour of checking on their wayward loon but brushed it off as residual guilt from not doing it last night. Tipping his head to the side he caught Steve's eye, mouthing the words 'whenever you're ready.'
Sucking in a deep breath, the Captain knew he must be crazy if he let Tony Stark talk him into picking a fight with an unsuspecting friend that had done nothing to warrant the coming hostility. With trembling hands he pushed his breakfast tray forward and slowly got out of his seat. The weight of the orderlies' eyes upon him was deeply felt but he still managed to put one foot in front of the other.
Bruce looked up and offered a warm smile to the blond towering over him. "Good morning Steve." The warmness was not returned and an awkward silence began to bloom. Rogers couldn't even bring himself to look Bruce in the eye, instead he kept his head down and his eyes glued on Bruce's slippers. "Is there something I can help you with," added Banner, hesitant in regards to what reaction he might illicit. They were in a mental hospital after all, random and weird reactions were nearly part of the daily routine, scheduled in after lunch but just before recreation time.
Steve's fingers coiled into a tight ball. "I'm sorry about this Bruce," he whispered, his eyes conveying a desperate need to be forgiven for some heinous act.
"Wha-" managed Bruce before the solid force of Rogers' fist connected firmly with his jaw. The room exploded into action and chairs were toppled as Frank and Dave tackled Steve to the ground. Banner laid on the floor, slowly blinking at the ceiling as he tried to figure out just how he was managing to see the room from his current angle. He could sense the movement and sounds all around him, but none of them penetrated the wall of silence that had wrapped its thick arms around him.
His muscles tensed in anticipation and Bruce held his breath as he waited, unsure exactly what he was expecting to happen. His body switched to autopilot, curling into a tight ball while simultaneously dragging himself into the corner, but still nothing out of the ordinary happened. Then the headache started, a twinge at first, quickly morphing into an all encompassing blunt pain that throbbed throughout his whole body. Banner ran his fingers through his hair, nails biting into his own flesh as he pulled his hands down his face, the need to pull his own skin off being the force behind his movements. Something was desperately trying to get out, but it was locked in tight within him.
Bruce glanced around desperately for anyone who could help him push the beast back or free it from the confines of skin that felt incredibly too small. His eyes darted to Stark's corner of the room but the billionaire was nowhere to be seen. The one time he would have accepted the constant chatter and his annoying tendencies, the man was absent from the scene. With nothing else to focus on, his eyes were drawn back to the scuffle on the floor. Steve was impressively making Frank work for every inch as the pair wrestled on the floor, the other orderly swaying and bobbing, looking for an opening to jab his needle.
Blinking back the green clouding the edge of his vision, Bruce watched as an army of white clad men stormed the cafeteria. One orderly deposited something big at the table before cautiously approaching Bruce, telegraphing his movements long before he made them. Banner would have chuckled at the absurdity of it if he felt like he could even move an inch, let alone defend himself against anything anyone wanted to do to him at the moment. He should have been concerned about the syringe being jab in his arm but as the calming darkness descended, he could only focus on the sweet bliss on nothingness that it offered. Bruce's last thought was it was odd that someone was releasing an inhuman roar.
Rogers' fist flew and Stark didn't waste a second before slipping out of his chair and slinking towards the door to the observation room. The second after the dog pile formed in the middle of the cafeteria, the locked clicked open, allowing Stark access to the inner workings of the asylum. "Definitely going to have to come up with some line of SI locks. Seriously, who has locks that the mental disturbed can pick in a mental hospital anyway," Tony muttered, pushing the pile of paper off of the keyboard.
It was like riding a bike, Tony's fingers flew over the keys, typing in code faster than the computer could keep up with. "Talk to me baby, show me something good," purred the billionaire. Hanging around the Moral Wonder was starting to compromise Tony's well enforced self importance as he found it difficult to tune out the sounds of the scuffle taking place outside. Though he had to give Rogers points, that if it hadn't been Bruce that had been hit, the look on Frank's face when it all went down would have been priceless.
The computer beeped and Stark's face lit up like his name on Stark Tower. "Who's the greatest superhero of them all?" crowed the inventor in a hushed tone. A couple of keystrokes later and the printer was fast at work producing a small book of information to rally the troops behind.
Tucking the papers in his waistband, Tony pressed his ear to the door. It sounded like the scene was quieting down and he hazard a peak through the crack in the door. It wasn't pretty in the cafeteria, Bruce was being taken out on a stretcher, strapped down with a pinched look on his face while Steve was being manhandled into a fashionable white jacket. Frank was definitely taking pride in his work as he jabbed the needle into the blonde's shoulder like nobody's business. Stark silently promised to buy the Captain his own flag pole so he'd have something to salute when this was all over.
With the circus exiting the cafeteria silence filled in the space formerly occupied by chaos. The door creaked as Tony slithered out, eyes darting around to make sure no one was witness to his latest felony. His stomach clenched again as he caught sight of the figure slumped over the table where the otherwise needed orderlies dumped him. Clint looked like had had gone ten rounds with Frank. A shaky hand hesitantly reached out and shook Barton's shoulder.
Tony let out a stressed breath when he received no response from his friend. His hand slowly drifted up to the archer's neck, heart pounding wildly in his chest at the unlikely prospect that he wouldn't find a pulse there. After receiving confirmation of life, Stark pulled out the nearby chair with his toe before plopping down, his head resting on the table to gain eye contact with the unconscious man.
"Hey Barton, you ok buddy?" asked Stark, his voice gentle and warm like a parent tending to a sad child. Still the slumped form didn't stir or give any sign of a connection with the world around him; his glazed eyes distant and unfocused. Tony wrinkled his nose at the growing puddle of drool accumulating underneath the slacked lips. Whatever happened in Norris's office and the subsequent hours since, had really done a number on the poor archer.
The dark bruises and puncture wounds along Barton's arms stood out in alarming contrast to his too pale skin. It was all similar to what Bruce had been sporting after he changed his tune about believing Tony. A deep ache started to grow; was he about to lose the closest thing he had to a friend in this place because of what those monsters were doing behind closed doors? Banner had done a complete three-sixty overnight and Tony wasn't sure he could handle having to hear Clint say he didn't believe him anymore.
The only way to make this right was to get them all out of there and clearly Barton was in no shape to assist. With renewed determination, Tony knew what his goal was. Hell, if they were crazy, he'd gladly allow himself to be committed to another hospital, he just had to get them out of this facility. Anything would be better than letting these people turn them into obedient machines. He shuddered at the thought of turning into Rogers. Patting Clint gently on the back before leaving he promised, "It's alright Barton, you just stay there and drool, we'll take care of this one."
He didn't feel good about abandoning the archer there, but he needed to monopolize on Rogers' distraction. He had a message to a secret government organization to send.
There was a weird tingling at the base of Tony's spine that forced him to walk faster down the halls. It was nuts, but the belief that he didn't see the evil possibly lurking behind him then perhaps it didn't exist. It was this thought that quickened his pace and locked his head from turning to constantly check behind him. Things had been extremely tense since yesterday's lunchroom brawl. In all fairness brawl was too strong a word, the fact that all involved were allegedly insane probably made it all seem worse that it really had been. Steve definitely had muscle but you'd never know it from Banner's face, there was barely a mark. Everyone was scrutinizing the patients' every move, and Tony found for the first time in his life that he didn't like being the center of attention. Since he was the only one up and about he felt the staff's attention more keenly.
Steve was still locked away in a solitary padded room, the shock that he was the one to snap first still too fresh in everyone's mind to actually deal with the situation. Bruce, while technically free to leave his room was still a quivering mass of nerves and rage that refused to engage with anyone but Clint, who Tony was most concerned with was still jell-o on the floor; at least someone seen fit to deposit him back in his room instead of leaving him at the cafeteria table.
Tony had spent his night reading through the documents he printed, trying his best to keep his dinner down at the details of what Norris' trials consisted of. It was something out of a sci-fi horror and he was thankful that he couldn't remember having been exposed to it; he was even more relieved that Barton wasn't likely to remember his second round when he finally came around.
From an evil genius perspective, he had to appreciate what Norris was trying to do; hell if it worked, it would be the ultimate weapon for Stark Industries to market for world peace. Manipulating the enemy into believing their whole lives were nothing more than a delusion, thus lowering the guard enough to start spilling their well kept secrets without hesitation or worry... genius. The fact that it had been done to Tony, that part was harder for him to swallow, but it had been effective to a certain degree. It was the amount of experimental chemical in his system, manipulating his mind that was really disturbing, never mind the forcefully violent way those drugs and manipulation was forced upon him. His hand still subconsciously rubbed the back of his head feeling the healing bumps that use to be the open wounds Norris had happily inflicted to facilitate his plan.
Pushing the recently learned horrors aside, Tony straightened his shirt and plastered on his trademark smile. On the topic of what his next move was, there were few options that came to mind; espionage, not his forte, brute strength, not in this lifetime, but flirting? That he could do in his sleep. Hell, he could even do it after a weekend bender where most people wouldn't be able to tell you their name, let alone convince a beautiful woman to accompany them home for a one night stand, but luckily he didn't need that level of charm for this job.
Stark's eyes sparkled as he round the corner and discovered midnight closet rendezvous nurse at the station. It was going to be too easy.
Tony wiped the lipstick off his face with a triumphant grin as he practically skipped down the hall. Creating a message, hacking an encrypted system, and distributing said message, all while making out with a nurse? That was definitely going on his resume, should he ever need one, especially since she had been completely unaware of what he had been doing with his hands. Hopefully someone from SHIELD would be monitoring all sources of communication and discover the file as it stealthy made its way through the internet. With a hope and a prayer, he set to work on the second part of his plan; free the team and make a break for it before being forever locked in a tiny white room babbling about superheroes and magical, mysterious government agencies.