Disclaimer: I do not own the Marvel universe at all, kthnx.

Warnings: social unrest, two men in a relationship together, unethical practices, language, alcohol, dark themes, psychological trauma, mind games. You know. The fun stuff.

Author's Note:

BITTER SIRENS

PART IV: A DISTORTED REFLECTION

CHAPTER VI: HONOR

The main floor had become even quieter than usual. Quieter, and more tense. Bruce didn't even have to walk up to the floor to ceiling windows and look down into the street to feel the tension, either. The employees Bruce still ran into were all extremely high strung, because coming into work with the building on lockdown was difficult and dangerous, plus they could tell there was something worse going on.

None of them knew the Stark Tower was sitting on top of a war criminal. That was probably for the best, though. Bruce tried smiling and being encouraging, but he could tell people were nervous around him, even here, in the Tower.

Sighing, Bruce turned off the stove with one hand while he got down two plates with the other. If he didn't get food or make it, Tony was probably going to forget to eat again. He was doing that a lot lately. He was more than a little worried.

"Dr. Banner." Steve gave him a nod, opening the fridge. He pulled out a water bottle and moved away again, to a safer distance.

"Shouldn't you be asleep right now?"

"Got a meeting with the Director." Steve drank half the bottle before putting the cap back on.

"Anything interesting?" Bruce slid the curry onto the plates, half and half, then set the pan on the back burner.

Steve didn't say anything, looking down.

That wasn't good.

"I can handle it."

"Sorry, I should get going." Steve gave an awkward smile and finished off his water bottle, tossing it in a recycling bin he'd started a while back. He was the only one who actually used it. He vanished into the elevator without even really saying goodbye, which was off for him.

The food was getting cold, otherwise he might have pursued it. Sighing, Bruce grabbed forks and pressed the up button, waiting for the elevator to come back.

0

"How is babysitting duty treating you so far, Captain?"

Steve shifted from foot to foot, still standing at attention, hand aching to salute, though he knew he didn't have to, and that he shouldn't. He wasn't in the military anymore. This was S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury wasn't a platoon leader, he was the Director. It was completely different, and yet the familiarity of it was what made him the most comfortable on most days.

Right now, it felt like a crutch to lean on, and he did not like that one bit.

"It is… a lot easier than I first thought it would be, Sir."

Fury gave a slow nod, staring at him with his good eye. Steve looked away, not sure if he should look at the eye, the patch, or the middle ground, which only made him more uncomfortable. It would be rude to acknowledge that out loud, though, so he kept his mouth shut on the matter.

"If I may…?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"I am more than a little worried at the attention the war criminal is showing to one of his supervisors."

Fury frowned at him, and immediately, Steve shifted uncomfortably, waiting for a reprimand which never came. Fury just scowled at him, patiently glaring, if that was even possible. Fury did a lot of things like that.

Steve cleared his throat, trying again. "Loki has been silent for the most part, except during the periods Stark is there."

"I've noticed."

"I am worried."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too." Fury crossed his arms, leaning back on the front of his desk. Steve searched his face for something, anything, but couldn't get any kind of read on him.

"I am afraid Loki might try something."

"I have all the assurances of Asgard that his magic is bound."

"Yeah, but his mouth isn't." Steve took a step forward, then quickly fell back into position, letting out a strained sigh. "According to his file, he has been using words to manipulate people since he could talk."

"So has Stark." Fury let his arms fall to his sides, though it did not make him seem any friendlier. "Look, I know you have good intentions, but I think Stark can handle himself. Plus, Loki doesn't have any windows to throw him out of. He'll be fine."

Steve cracked a small smile. "Yeah, but will Loki be fine?"

Fury laughed, a small, clipped thing. It felt loaded. It didn't put Steve at ease at all.

"The boys can handle themselves, and if everything goes well, the trial should be starting soon, which means they won't be left so alone."

"There are other guards there." Steve's smile fell as quickly as it came, worry flooding back full force. Alone? Had Stark sent the guards away? There were a million questions he could ask, and the longer he stared at Fury, the more and more he felt like he wouldn't be getting any answers. He blinked, clearing his throat again. "What did Stark do?"

There was another laugh, setting him even more on edge. "Better question: what hasn't Stark done?"

"You didn't answer my question. Sir."

Fury rolled his eye. "Other than talking to an intergalactic war criminal and none of the microphones or guards picking up what was said, nothing."

That only made Steve's frown deepen. "Did he tamper with the holding cell?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but Stark is the leading edge in just about every kind of tech that doesn't explode, so I wouldn't be surprised. Is there anything else you wanted to address with me, Captain?"

When Fury put it like that, Steve wondered why he reported anything to Fury at all. He took a deep breath, then shook his head, only catching his salute half-way through. He let his hand fall again, frowning.

"You're dismissed, soldier."

Steve turned. If Fury wouldn't listen, someone else had to. Someone else had to care enough to be worried.