33 – Defeat – June 23, 2015
"Crossbones, they're calling him," Aspen said, putting down her phone where the news article told the tale of what had happened the day before. "Resurrected from the dead."
Steve didn't respond. His eyes were stuck on his tablet reading the death count over and over. 28 dead. 16 cops and agents. Six civilians. Six workers from the factory who had turned out to be arms dealers. The numbers seared themselves into his eyes. He jumped when Aspen reached out to touch his hand. She gently pulled the tablet from his grip and set it on the table.
"Sometimes we get knocked down," she said. "Sometimes we lose people and the bad guys get away. But we get back up. We keep fighting."
How could they let this happen? the article had asked in bold letters. They're supposed to be heroes. According to the news it was their fault. Those deaths were on them. He felt it, felt every one of those people weighing down on him. Even though he healed quickly, it still hurt to breathe where Rumlow had kicked and punched him. He felt like he deserved worse.
"It would have been worse if we hadn't been there. Hydra doesn't care how many people they kill. They don't value life," Aspen continued. He knew she was just trying to make him feel better, but it wasn't working.
"I was off my game."
"Well then so I was. What's the use of these powers if I can't even stop a van?"
"You were driving a motorcycle and deflecting bullets at the same time." He didn't want Aspen taking the blame for this.
"So you can defend me but not yourself?" she asked. Her green eyes were vivid, the way they got when she was angry or impassioned. "You don't get to claim fault because you're not the one who killed those people." She took his other hand, running her fingers across his palm. He relaxed under her touch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "You put too much on your shoulders. We talked about this."
"I know. You're right. You're right…"
"Right now instead of feeling sorry for ourselves, we need to figure out why Rumlow needed those weapons. He hasn't won yet. I did manage to get a tracking device on the van before we lost them, but they ditched it outside of LA." Rumlow and his men had made sure to create as much chaos as possible and the agents after them hadn't been able to get through the wreckage and traffic in enough time. After switching vehicles, they were impossible to track. "I tried to track them down but…" She shook her head. "The warehouse was a front for arms dealers. They were getting some pretty nasty things in, and Rumlow cleared them out."
"He wanted to make sure we saw him, that the world saw him," Steve said.
"I don't think he knew we were in California, but I suppose our defeat just leant more fear to his image," Aspen said. "Those men with him were trained. They didn't blink when I started using my powers on them. Maybe Rumlow's just trying to keep doing Hydra's work – creating chaos, killing innocent people, stealing high-powered weapons."
"Those weapons could be halfway around the world now in the hands of a terrorist group." Steve got up from the couch, pacing toward the door and stopping to gaze out at the scene. It had been so peaceful two days before but now he was restless. His phone rang from the table and he glanced over at it.
"It's Tony," Aspen said, worrying her lip between her front teeth.
"He won't be happy." He strode over and snatched up the phone. He opened his mouth to greet Tony, but the ex-Avenger beat him to the cue.
"What the hell happened?"
Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath before responding. "Hydra happened," he said.
"And aren't you the guy who's supposed to take down Hydra?" Tony asked. "You're all over the news. People are questioning if the Avengers are up to the job. You lead the team now. You can't go in alone and then not even get the guy."
"There wasn't time to call in the team, and I wasn't alone. We just…we couldn't slow them down." He didn't want to defend himself, but he was annoyed with Tony's anger.
"I'm handling the press now. We might be able to come out of this okay."
"The press? Tony, I don't care what the press has to say about this. Is that what you're really worried about?" He glanced at Aspen who furrowed her brow.
"If the press turns the public against the Avengers you're going to have more to worry about than Hydra mercenaries. People are already talking, bringing up questions. They want accountability."
"I take full accountability for what happened." Aspen gave Steve a sharp look.
Tony sighed. "I know you're already taking this out on yourself. Don't. I just need you to know what the people are saying. You might not care what they think, but if the people pull their support from us then it's gonna be a hell of a lot harder to go after the bad guys."
"I know. I'm going to do everything I can to find Rumlow and bring him to justice," Steve told him. If only he knew where to start. He hadn't even known he was still alive until yesterday.
"You know the guy?" Tony asked, sounding surprised.
"Yeah, I guess he's called Crossbones now, but he used to be a SHIELD agent. He was Hydra all along though. I thought he'd died in DC during the attack, but I guess not."
"Well just lay low until you get back to New York," Tony advised. "I can't see you or Aspen relaxing now, but try to enjoy the rest of your vacation. There's nothing more you can do right now. Natasha's already trying to track down this guy."
"I think we're just going to head back to New York," Steve said, looking at Aspen. She nodded.
"That makes it look like you're running," Tony told him. "Stay another day. Visit the hospital where some of the victims of the incident are. Shake the chief of police's hand."
"I thought you said to lay low."
"That too. Maybe you can repair a little damage though."
"I don't think shaking hands is going to repair anything."
"Public image," Tony told him. "Public image."
After Steve hung up, he turned to find Aspen sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to her chin. He was alarmed to see that she had tears in her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting next to her.
"I hadn't even thought of the victims' families, of the people who are in the hospital right now because we didn't stop Rumlow in time. I've grown so used to casualties that I've forgotten to remember that they're more than just numbers." Her shoulders were shaking now, and Steve pulled her closer to him. She buried her head in his chest. "Was he mad?"
"It's hard to tell with Tony sometimes. I think he's just concerned the situation is going to spiral out of control. The press got a lot of coverage on it and it didn't paint us in a good light. You know Tony; he cares about what the press has to say. But he did have a point. If the public opinion of us is low then we might run into some trouble."
Aspen pulled away and looked at him. "You think people might turn against us?" she asked. Her voice was small and her cheeks pale, and it made Steve want to protect her from the world.
"There will always be people who don't think we have a right to be out there fighting crime, but I think most people are still thankful for New York. A lot of people will always see us as heroes." He winced as he spoke. It sounded pretentious, and he knew he couldn't always rely on the assumption that people were going to idolize the Avengers. "Tony thought we should visit the hospital where some of the people who were injured are, maybe talk to some of the families of the victims. Offer our condolences."
Aspen seemed to shrink away from him as he spoke. "They'll hate us," she said.
"They won't hate us…" But he wasn't sure. How would he feel if someone he cared about was killed and no one had stopped it from happening? He took a deep breath. "You don't have to come," he said softly. "But I feel like I need to at least try to atone for what happened."
Aspen was silent for a long moment. "I'll come," she said finally. "I don't want to make you go alone."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah." She'd stopped crying and held her shoulders a little higher. "This just sucks."
That made him smile a little. "Yeah," he said, "it does."
Since his motorcycle had been wrecked, they borrowed one of Tony's cars. They were all extremely expensive looking, and Steve was seriously considering calling Uber instead of driving one of them. Finally he settled on the most normal looking car which probably still cost over eighty grand. He'd read in the article online that the patients were being treated at the Good Samaritan Hospital. Aspen was quiet on the way in, staring out her window as the city flew past. The subdued mood continued all the way to the hospital and when they got out of the car, Aspen stared up at the hospital with a fearful expression on her face. Steve took her hand.
"Do you want to wait in the car?" he asked. She shook her head, getting out of the car. They checked in at the front desk. The secretary there did a double take when she looked up at Steve. He explained that they were there to visit the victims of the day before to see how they were doing. In a flustered motion, the woman handed them the guest log and told them the room numbers. Steve could see her frantically texting on her phone as they walked away. There were three people still in the hospital. The other four had been checked out this morning. Steve knocked on the first door and stepped in after the woman within called out for him to enter. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties and lit up the second she caught sight of Aspen and Steve.
"You're those heroes," she said. "The Avengers, right?"
"We're Avengers," Steve said. "I'm not sure heroes after what happened yesterday. I'm sorry you had to get hurt."
"It just proves you're human," she said. There wasn't a note of hostility in her voice, and Steve felt Aspen relax. She didn't let go of his hand though. "Please, sit down," the woman offered. Her leg was in a cast, rested on a little sling to keep it elevated.
Steve pulled two chairs up to the bed. "We just wanted to make sure you were all right," he said. "We didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."
"I know a lot of people are saying you need to be held accountable for everything that's happened, but you do your best. It's not like someone like me could defend the entire city of New York. It takes a special kind. It's too bad Mr. Stark retired from the Avengers. He was my favorite – no offense!" she hurried to apologize.
"It's okay," Steve told her. "We miss him too."
They exchanged a few more pleasantries and then moved on to the next room. Aspen hadn't said a word the entire time, but he knew she was feeling nervous. She could be a spitfire one moment, defending him angrily to strangers, and then be shy the next, keeping her thoughts to herself.
The next room held a teenage girl who was surrounded by a gaggle friends. The second they saw Steve, they all started giggling and whispering. He nearly bolted out the door, but Aspen tightened her grip on his hand. "Oh no," she said. "You're not getting off that easily."
"Hi," Steve said. "We're, er, here to see how you're doing after yesterday."
The girl in the hospital bed had her arm in a sling and her face had a few scratches, but she was smiling and looking speechless. Steve felt his cheeks heating at the attention but forced himself to stay calm.
"I can't believe you're actually here!" the girl said. Her friends twittered. One reached for her phone, but the screen went black the next moment. The girl slapped it against her hand, but it wouldn't turn back on. Steve saw a satisfied smirk flit across Aspen's face before it was replaced by a calm smile.
"Well, glad you're mending," Steve said awkwardly. He turned to leave.
"Wait!" the girl with the cast said. "Will you sign my cast?"
Aspen covered her mouth to hide a laugh, and Steve turned back to the girl. "Sure." She handed him a sharpie and he quickly signed his name. "There you go." The friends rushed over to look at the signature, and Steve took the chance to drag Aspen out of the room. She was nearly doubled over in laughter now.
"I am so glad you convinced me to come with you," she said.
"Mmhmm. I'm sure." They walked to the last room. This one was located in the ICU, and Aspen's laughter died. The patient's door was slightly ajar here and, as Steve tapped on it, it opened wider. There was a man sitting in a wheel chair by the window gazing out at the city. He didn't turn to look at them when they entered. There didn't seem to be much physically wrong with him outside of a few bruises on his arms. Then he turned to face them, and Aspen stifled a gasp. His face and neck were covered in red, puckered burn marks. His hands, too, were burnt.
"You." In that one word, Steve knew this man was not happy with him. Aspen shrunk back, sensing the hostility.
"We just came to see if-"
"If I was okay?" the man asked. He laughed but there was no humor in the sound. "Do I look okay?" His eyes were dead, and Steve knew in that moment.
"You lost someone."
"That obvious?" He turned away, and Steve wasn't sure if he was set on ignoring them or not until he started to speak again. "I had just picked up my family from the city pool. My two daughters were with me and my wife."
Steve's heart clenched. Part of him wanted to turn from the room so he wouldn't have to hear the rest of the story. He didn't move though. This was part of his duty.
"We didn't see the helicopter until it was too late. It fell from the sky and part of it hit the car. In LA traffic, you can't go anywhere. There wasn't time anyway. It was on fire and then suddenly so was the car. I couldn't get them out. My wife went first and then my daughters. I walked away. I should have died. I would have died. I would have given my life over three times so that they could have walked away."
"I-" Steve started, wanting to say something even if nothing would sound right.
"You really think anything you have to say is going to make it better?" the man asked, turning around again to glare at them. "Why are you here? Why do you get to walk away without a damn scratch?"
Steve dropped his gaze. The man was right. Being here when the man's family was dead…that wasn't helping. "I'm sorry," he said. "We'll leave."
"One of these days the world is going to wake up and realize that all you and you kind do is leave a wake of destruction and death. One day you will have to pay for that!" the man shouted after them as they left the room. Steve shut the door and then leaned against the wall for a moment, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. It's not like he hadn't faced anger like that before or that raw grief that came after loss. It still hurt though.
"Steve?" He calmed his breath and opened his eyes.
"You were right earlier," he said. "Sometimes I forget that people are dying. We fight and sometimes we win and then we go home. What's left though?"
"Let's get out of here," Aspen said. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea."
Steve let her lead him toward the doors. It was in his nature to want to help people, but he knew he couldn't help that man and he couldn't help the man's family. Maybe their deaths weren't directly his fault, but the man needed someone to blame, so they were the easy scapegoats. But Steve felt the guilt whether it should have been his or not. Someone had to carry it, so why not him?
He wasn't expecting the flashing cameras and microphones awaiting them outside the doors to the hospital. They were besieged without warning, people pressing in on them from all sides.
"Captain America is it true that you used to work with the suspect known as Crossbones?"
"Captain Rogers, how do you explain the failure that occurred yesterday? Are you pursing this mercenary?"
"Miss Tolvar, don't you have special abilities that are supposed to prevent things like this from happening?"
"Who will stand accountable for the deaths if the villain is not brought to justice?"
"Captain America!"
"Who is to blame?"
"What do you have to say?"
"Is that an engagement ring? Miss Tolvar! Over here!"
The flashing cameras were blinding and the questions were thrown at them like a hurricane. Aspen had stopped short and was frozen in place, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.
"Who is going to pay for the damage to the city?"
"What about the families of those lost? Where's the justice for them?"
Then another voice rose up above the reporters. "You think you're above the law, that you can just waltz in and it doesn't matter if there is blood on your hands because you're heroes." This came from a bystander. Steve cut his eyes to where the girl stood holding a sign that read Avengers: Heroes or Villains? Several people had joined her holding similar signs. Hold the Avengers Accountable. Justice for the Dead. Who Will Pay?
"We're going home," Steve told Aspen softly. He hooked an arm around her waist and they started toward the parking lot, Steve pushing reporters out of the way, sheltering Aspen as they went. She was shaking, and he felt his anger building up. He shoved one reporter too hard, and the man stumbled. Something hit Tony's car, but Steve didn't stop to see what it was before helping Aspen in and getting in behind the wheel. He forced himself not to tear out of the lot. "We're going home," he repeated, dialing up Tony's pilot and directing him to pick them up as soon as possible. Aspen sat shaking and didn't say a word.
…
The words on the signs outside the hospital were still seared into Aspen's eyes an hour later. She lay in bed shivering even though Steve had opened the sliding glass doors to let in a little of the warm, afternoon breeze. She wanted to laugh at the idea of berating Steve that morning for blaming himself because this afternoon had put enough guilt on her shoulders to make her never want to get out of that bed.
Tony's pilot had promised to be there that evening so they could get back into New York in the very early hours of the morning. Steve was somewhere downstairs probably feeling even guiltier than Aspen. It wasn't as if Aspen had been under the illusion that everyone loved her and her team. She knew there had been mixed opinions of the team since the very start. But she'd never faced the kind of hatred she had today. That man had lost his family, and she'd never begrudge him for the hatred he'd flung at Aspen and Steve but she'd never forget the look in his eyes. Haunted. It was the same look Wanda had had in her eyes for months after her twin had died in Sokovia. It was the look she'd seen in countless faces over the years, but she'd never stood and faced someone's anger like that before. The job was to save people, but she was just now realizing that another part of it was taking the anger and the hatred the families of the people they couldn't save. They had no one else to blame – villains would be villains, but the Avengers were supposed to stop those villains before they hurt anyone.
She heard Steve enter the room and felt him sit on the edge of the bed. When she rolled over to look at him, he was bent over, head in his hands. She sat up and rubbed a hand over his back. "Today was hard," she said. "When I saw all those cameras and those signs… I guess sometimes we get this false sense of security in our safe little facility in New York. We go out, save the day, get our pictures taken from afar, and go home. Today we weren't protected by those walls. Today we were out there trying to be considerate people but in the public's eyes we're still those superheroes that never really stick around to see what destruction we leave behind. I just felt so exposed but we don't really get the luxury of privacy."
"I never liked being in the public eye with the press and all. I was never comfortable with that kind of attention," Steve said. "But I also don't want people to think we're too good to talk with them or offer condolences."
"We're different," Aspen said, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his back. "People don't like things they don't fully understand."
"It's never been about them liking us, but…if too many people think we're doing more bad than good…" He left the thought off, but Aspen knew exactly what he meant. If people started to think they were making things worse then they'd stand up against them and people like Rumlow would run around without opposition. It wasn't about people liking them but they couldn't keep avenging if the people they were trying to save turned against them.