Guess who saw Captain America a while ago? Me! Anyone else love it? :D Parts of it kinda relate to this story, with a certain "organization" ;) coming back and all. BTW, watch Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. NNNOOOWWW!
Also, for the duration of this story, S.H.I.E.L.D. still exists. Just FYI.
Sorry for the delay. Just….wow. Very busy. Studying for finals. Spine surgery coming up in June means lots of doctors' visits, MRIs, X-rays, and recently, an older student at school died. I wasn't extremely close to him, but I still knew him and our school was very shaken up. Plus I am literally living off of between one and four/five-ish hours of sleep each night due to homework and back pain. So yeah. Longish chapter. Here is your update my beautiful people out there. You are lucky how much I love you. XD
Warnings/Dislcaimer- I do not own Marvel or these characters. But I can dream, right?
Chapter 34- You Know That We're Worth It III
Tony was good making waves, especially publicity waves. After the interview, the Avengers were getting more social media attention than ever.
"It's fine," Tony said exasperatingly as they made dinner. "Why does it matter anyways? We want these people to trust us, and now they can. It gives them a sense of empathy. And viola, they trust us. I don't see what all the fuss is about."
"It isn't about them trusting us, it's about whether or not we should trust them," Natasha responded quickly while chopping veggies. "Can't you see that?"
"I neither see or nor believe it."
"How?!" Natasha asked incredulously, placing her knife down. "You think that just because you have fans doesn't mean they won't hesitate to turn against you? Need I remind you of the Extremis program you little 'fan' produced? How about Whiplash? Or even Afghanistan?"
The kitchen became deadly silent as the team waited to see what would happen next.
Tony froze at the words, but tried to play it off quickly. "Those…terrorists weren't my fans. They don't play into this."
"Yes they do Stark."
Tony turned around to face Natasha. "Back to last names? Ouch. But do explain, I'd like to hear your reasoning."
Natasha sighed and continued chopping. "They had to admire your work at some point in order to have the motivation to kidnap you to build weapons for them. If they didn't admire it, they wouldn't have needed you. And let's not start on General Ross 'admiring' Bruce's work. Or even countless scientists trying to replicate Steve's serum."
"Let's not," Bruce muttered, the first to speak out of the group. He fiddled with his glasses before turning to Tony. "Tony, I think Natasha's point is that there is a line. The people should trust us and know part of who we are, but not enough to have reasons to go against us."
"Or the government," Steve cut in. "You know the feds are already cracking down on the X-Men."
"Charles has been keeping me informed," Tony muttered, "The CIA has been tracking them ever since the Cuba incident. But they worked for the government trying to catch Shaw, we don't."
"But don't we?" Clint asked, turning on the stove and causing the water in the pot to boil. "I mean, we work for S.H.I.E.L.D., but technically we worked for the government during Manhattan, even if indirectly. There is a reason that S.H.I.E.L.D. is a secret organization."
"You have a point Birdbrain," Tony admitted. "But what about Goldilocks? He isn't legally bound to this planet. He has gone back to Asgard many times and the government didn't seem to have a problem with that."
"Alas Man of Iron," Thor said, "the government was not aware of my multiple departures. The Director took care of that. However, the government was aware when I took Loki and the Tesseract back to Asgard."
"Of course they were!" Tony exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "They were too afraid to argue."
"Aye, and rightfully so," Thor commented. "They would be very foolish to argue with the Allfather."
Tony walked over and practically threw the noodles into the pot. "Why do governments have to be so nosy and complicated? Maybe we should go to Asgard and replicate their style of government. It seems to be working well up there."
Thor frowned. "It would not be suitable to enforce the same type of government down on Midgard as it stands upon Asgard."
"What, would the Allfather not find our lack of gold suitable?" Clint asked playfully.
"No, it would simply be….immoral," Thor said hesitatingly. "It is unjust that one man believes himself above others, and feels that he must rule over them."
"You should have seen World War II," Steve muttered, carefully pulling a tray of meatballs out of the oven.
"So why does it work so well in Asgard?" Bruce asked curiously. "I mean, the same concept that one man is above others works so well up there, but fails miserably here."
"But that is where you are mistaken," Thor announced. "We are not men. It is not that we follow a hierarchy based on popularity, but on who has birthright to the throne. The Allfather is above us because he was born as such, and we are lower gods than he. It doesn't work in Midgard because your people do not follow universal legends or myths or prophecies. However, that was Loki's goal when he attacked Midgard with the Chitauri," Thor said with a slight frown. "He knew that he would be seen as the higher power, and felt it was his duty and birthright to come down and give you a universal ruler. Clearly he was mistaken."
"I guess that makes sense," Bruce said. "Earth has tried too many times for that to work, and at this point, I think we've just given up."
"It's probably for the best," Clint said. "Unless, of course, I was to become universal leader. Ouch!" Clint exclaimed as Natasha punched his arm. "I'm just saying," he muttered.
"Bruce, would you help me set the table," Natasha asked, carrying plates into the dining room where the table was.
"Of course," Bruce replied, grabbing silverware and napkins, following the assassin. Natasha was putting plates on the table, but with much more force than was necessary.
"What's bothering you?" Bruce asked once they were out of earshot.
"Nothing," Natasha replied too quickly.
"I can tell when a person is lying," the scientist muttered. "It was a skill I had to develop. You can tell me. I swear I won't tell Tony if that's what you're worried about," Bruce continued, chuckling slightly. He wasn't sure if that had come out as more of a truth, joke, or both.
Natasha sighed, hesitating slightly. "It's just that… deception is my forte. Being unnoticed yet ruthless is what I'm known for. All this publicity is leaving us more and more exposed, and I don't think Tony sees the harms in that. I mean, he invited a terrorist to his home address. He is so open with the public, so he doesn't know any better. He's part of a team now, and doesn't realize that he just can't go around exposing all of us," she said. "None of this was in the job description."
Bruce smiled, setting napkins on the table. "I'm not sure whether you are referring to Tony or the rest of the team. We are quite a handful. Hulk wasn't even supposed to be part of the team. I was just called along to help find the Tesseract."
"Fury shouldn't have…" Natasha started, but Bruce cut her off.
"I knew that no matter what Fury told me, the Other Guy would get involved. He always does." Bruce pointed out.
"Do you ever wish…" Natasha licked her lips. "Do you ever wish you could get rid of him? To just start over?"
Bruce froze momentarily as his eyes widened. "O- of course. There were days where I would have given anything to get rid of him, just to stop the ceaseless buzzing in the back of my head. Even if it meant- well, you know."
"Yeah," Natasha said quietly. "But do you still wish? I mean, now, do you still think about trying?"
"I did for a bit when…um… Betty died," Bruce confessed, fiddling with his glasses. "But not since. It just becomes part of you. You don't get over it, but you get used to it, and soon, you can't remember what life was like before the 'incident.' It's funny though how life it isn't just life- it becomes 'before the incident' and 'after the incident.' I guess I'm sort of glad at this point. I am part of a team, and I have never had that before."
Natasha opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it when Steve entered the room, carrying a large pot of pasta. "Smells great," she said instead, glancing at Bruce quickly before walking back into the kitchen to retrieve the salad.
"Is Pepper eating with us tonight?" Steve asked, setting the large pot down.
"No," Tony said as he walked in. "She had a tough day. I think she's upstairs sleeping."
Everyone gathered around the table. Tony sighed heavily, looking expectantly at Steve.
"What?" Steve asked, clearly confused.
"Say grace," Tony said. "You all know we were thinking the same thing. Go on."
Steve cleared his throat and held out his hands. The team joined hands, though Tony looked deathly afraid of holding Natasha's.
"Dear Lord," Steve began, "thank you for this food you place before us tonight…" Tony grunted, and Steve glared. "…through the help of our team's hands, which hopefully did not poison anything. We also thank you for tonight, that we were able to have one evening without a mission…"
"Shuddup!" Clint interrupted loudly, his eyes widening.
Steve sighed. "What is it this time?"
"You just jinxed us!" Clint exclaimed. "Now we're gonna have missions non-stop."
"I don't think God believes in jinxing," Steve said, frowning.
Clint laughed. "You say that now. But when you say stuff like that, God looks down from Heaven and just laughs. He says 'you think so, you just wait.' Seriously, what did you even learn in Sunday school?" Clint asked. "Everyone knows that!"
Steve rolled his eyes. "In my day, all masses were in Latin…" he began, but Tony cut him off.
"No more 'in my day' stories," Tony interrupted quickly. "God, thank you for this yummy spaghetti which hopefully is safe to eat and please get rid of all the psychopaths that try to take over the world. Amen!"
"Amen," they replied. Steve was still glaring at Tony.
Silence ensued for a few moments as spaghetti was passed onto plates. However, it was quickly interrupted by "Sexyback" ringing through the air. Clint looked alarmed, reaching into his pocket.
"Tony, so help me, if you change my ringtone one more time…." Clint grumbled. He answered the phone. "Hello?" Mumbling was heard on the other line, and Clint's face turned more and more serious. "Yes, of course. We'll be there in an hour…I'll bring them along sir….Yup….We can do that. Not a problem at all. Yessir."
Clint shoved his phone back into his pocket, glaring daggers at Steve. "Well soldier, guess who that was? Director Fury. Natasha and I have just been assigned a mission. Great! I warned you about the jinx, but did you listen? No, of course not!"
"Actually," Steve spoke up, "you were the one that believed in the jinx, not me." He was smiling slightly, but was trying to cover it up. "So it looks like the jinx only worked on you. Sorry. Tough luck"
Clint snorted. "You liar. You aren't sorry at all. Also, he wants Tony and Bruce to come along."
Tony whipped his head towards Clint, groaning. "Really? What could Patchy possibly want now?"
"He wants you two to check something out in the lab aboard the Helicarrier," Clint said, grabbing his half eaten spaghetti plate and standing up. He disappeared into the kitchen, but his voice was still heard. "Something extra-terrestrial I think. Chitauri maybe? No need to pack; he has clothes there for you already."
"Any idea how long we'll be on the Helicarrier?" Bruce asked, following Clint with his dish.
"To quote him directly 'however damn long it takes.' He was pretty pissed on the phone, so it must be serious. But Nat and I should be gone for about three days tops, and I'm sure you two will have it all figured out in half that time."
"Fury must be really desperate if he is bringing Tony and I onto the Helicarrier for an uncertain amount of time," Bruce said, rinsing his plate quickly. "I know Fury doesn't exactly love either of us."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Clint said. "At least you have it under control. I think it's Tony that gets on his nerves, but I really don't blame him though. Guy gets on everyone's nerves. But all his scientists aboard are stumped, and you guys are the smartest in the world. So in reality, it doesn't matter if he loves you. He needs you. Why don't you and Tony go ahead and grab whatever you need, and Natasha and I will meet you in the living room."
"Sounds great," Bruce said. He started walking away, but paused, turning back around. "Actually, my phone is in my pocket. I really don't need anything else, so I'm ready to go."
Tony walked into the kitchen. "All ready to go! So Robin Hood, when are we leaving?"
"Let me just grab my bow. I think I'm gonna need it."
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Tony and Bruce walked into the lab, meeting a ginger scientist with freckles.
"Gentlemen, I'm Agent Carter, but you can call me Alice," she said shyly, shaking Tony and Bruce's hands.
"Nice to meet you," Bruce said.
"It's a pleasure darling," Tony muttered, not focusing on the woman. He was surveying the room with a slightly confused look on his face. "What exactly is it we're looking for? I don't see any alien objects in here."
"They aren't in here," Alice stated. "The Director has them in the radioactive chamber downstairs. He's afraid that the objects in question might be throwing off some harmful chemicals, possibly radiation."
"Alrighty then," Tony started, "let's head on down."
Alice walked in the front, leading the scientists down the long halls of the Helicarrier. Both men received multiple stares, but ignored them.
They came up to a large metal door with an electronic lock. Alice swiped her S.H.I.E.L.D. card and entered multiple digits into the device. She hefted the door open, walked inside, and switched on the lights.
There was a large chamber inside, with clear walls. Bright lights flooded the compartment, and a couple of metal objects could be seen inside.
Alice led them over to a closet that contained thick yellow radiation suits.
"I'm going to have to ask you to put these on," Alice said, pulling the suits out of the closet.
"This is so cliché," Tony said, pulling on a suit. "This is like something out of a cheap horror movie." The engineer pulled on the large yellow mask, muffling his voice. "Why exactly do we have to wear these things? Is the radiation really that bad?"
"The last couple of people to touch these things got killed," Alice said walking into the chamber. "S.H.I.E.L.D. started investigating, but once we thought we had a lead, it just disappeared. We only hit dead ends. Director Fury is concerned because Chitauri armor was found all over the place after the attack. Unfortunately, civilians got their hands on these. The Director thinks that these could cause more damage than we think."
They all walked over to the table where four Chitauri helmets were sitting. They were shiny, but covered in dents and scratches.
"Well, where do we start?" Tony asked.
"The leads we originally had were that it was a virus of some sort," Alice said. "So maybe lab tests?"
"Hold on," Bruce muttered. "You said there was armor, right? These are all helmets. So, is the armor itself is harmless?"
"That's what we think," Alice stated. "The armor itself hasn't seem to have any effects, but the helmets do."
"So maybe it isn't an virus," Tony said. "Whatever it is, is must revolve around the head, or brain. Let's swab the helmets, then run it under a microscope. Maybe we'll get some feedback."
Tony and Bruce went to the supply closet outside of the chamber and pulled out many swabs.
"Do you think we should call Thor?" Bruce asked. "We don't know anything about Chitauri, and this seems pretty serious. I'm sure he would at least have a small lead. Maybe Chitauri affect Asgardians' health?"
"I'm not sure if it would help," Tony said, running a cotton swab around the outer part of the helmet. "If they had caused the Asgardians health problems, I don't think Loki would have recruited them as his army."
The two men worked in silence, swabbing every inch of the helmets. A voice interrupted on the intercom.
"Agent Carter, you are needed on Level 2 of the West Wing in Room 307."
Alice walked out of the chamber, took off her suit, and swiftly left the room.
"Think we have enough samples yet?" Tony asked.
"I'd say so," Bruce responded. He put the cotton swabs in plastic containers, which fit inside a large box. "Let's go on and take these to the lab."
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Natasha and Clint walked into the hotel room, both covered in blood and grime.
"I'm shocked that Fury gave us such a nice room," Natasha said. "It's rare we ever even get a hotel. Shame that we'll get pulled out tomorrow. Mission went quicker than planned. But still, it's a very nice room."
"Well," Clint said, chuckling, "This is Italy. Only the best, right?" The assassin collapsed on the best, inhaling sharply as he did so. "Oh god, that hurts."
Natasha instantly looked up from where she was pulling off her boots, turning her attention to Clint. "Please tell me you didn't get shot."
Clint continued staring at the ceiling. "Not…exactly."
Natasha cursed in Russian, and walked over to Clint.
"Where?"
Clint stared at Natasha, her eyes boring into his. "It's fine."
Natasha shifted her weight from one leg to the other, crossing her arms. "Seriously Barton? I can play this game all day. Now you can tell me, or I can force you to tell me. Your choice. I'm sick of repeating Budapest all over again. Just tell me where it is."
Clint rolled his eyes. "Right leg. Thigh. I think it's just a shard. Hurts like a bitch though."
Natasha walked into the bathroom, grabbing her standard medical bag and a towel. She brought it to the bed, where Clint's face was turning slightly pale. She pulled over a chair, and put the towel under his leg.
"Can't have the staff wondering why the bed is covered in blood," she explained, opening up the bag.
"I can think of quite a few reasons," Clint muttered.
Natasha glared at the archer. "Stark's rubbing off on you," she said. She cut off the pant leg, eyes slightly widening at the wound. Clint's thigh was covered in blood, and a clear puncture wound could be seen. Natasha could also see a very distinct small piece of metal wedged in the flesh.
"Is the shard still in there?" Clint asked, inhaling sharply as Natasha poured rubbing alcohol on the wound.
"Yeah," Natasha said, grabbing the tweezers. "Hold still. I'll try to be fast." The assassin carefully maneuvered the tweezers, gripping the small piece of metal. She quickly pulled it out, knowing that Clint could handle the pain.
Clint was breathing quickly, but recovered after the shard was completely out. Natasha gently placed the small but deadly piece of metal on the bedside table, and grabbed some gauze, tightly wrapping Clint's leg.
"Please try not to get injured next time," Natasha said, zipping up the bag. "If we continue like this, Fury will get the idea we're getting old or something."
"Middle age comes to everyone 'Tash," Clint said, frowning slightly.
"Don't be obvious Barton," Natasha said, looking at him as if he were a child. "But it shouldn't come to us for quite some time."
She went to the bathroom to wash her hands, taking the shard with her. She placed it on the counter, and turned on the sink. She was quiet for a few moments while staring at the metal fragment. Running it under some cold water, she stopped dead in her tracks. The silver shone brightly, but so did something else.
"Clint," she said, walking into the room. "Director Fury said that group we were hunting today was some terrorist organization, right?"
Clint sat up, wincing slightly. "Yeah, why?"
Natasha paused, contemplating the small piece of metal she carefully held. "I just find it strange that an Italian terrorist organization would be using Stark Industry products."