This chapter contains clinical descriptions of some pretty severe injuries. It's nothing that I would consider overtly graphic, but please be aware if you are sensitive to that kind of thing. :)
Tony had never been more grateful for his face mask than he was in that moment. During his time as a weapons manufacturer and socialite, Tony had perfected the art of hiding his true thoughts and emotions behind the mask of a flippant attitude and an I-don't-give-a-damn-what-you-think-of-me smile.
But there in that moment, standing face to face with a man he'd always despised but never thought as anything more than a bothersome troublemaker, Tony had to admit that there was no way he would've been able to hide the massive cauldron of emotions threatening to boil over. By aligning himself with HYDRA, Justin Hammer had literally sold his soul to the devil, and was therefore complicit in every single thing that HYDRA had done since Project Insight.
Including the capture and torture of Steve, which, in Tony's opinion, was all the motivation that he needed to want to kill him.
"Tony," Rhodey said quietly from next to him, his arms raised and aimed at the army squadron of suits assembled behind Hammer. He heard a whoosh as Sam come to an abrupt landing about a metre behind him and assumed the rest of the team was also falling in, already scanning their surroundings for a possible way out.
"Tony, are you seeing this?"
"Yeah, I see it," Tony responded, low and tight, his arms not wavering a single centimetre. "Does anyone have eyes on Steve or Pete?"
"No, but if I had to guess I'd say that we're pretty close," answered Natasha. "This Hammer guy likes an audience, doesn't he?"
Tony's upper lip curled into a sneer behind his mask. "Yeah, he does. He's a real peacock, that one."
"Okay, so… what're we gonna do?" asked Clint. "'Cause I hate to say it, but—"
"Then don't, 'cause it won't help anything," Sam said firmly. "Tony, we're pretty much trapped inside a tin can here. We need to get this place opened up somehow or they'll just end up squashing us like a bunch of bugs."
"Agreed," said Tony. He was starting to feel claustrophobic anyway, stuck inside yet another dank, dark, concrete and stone HYDRA bunker. And what was it about all the HYDRA bunkers being so grey and dark, anyway? Whoever designed their fortresses sure had a severe lack of imagination. Hadn't they ever heard of colours? Or windows?
Clearing his throat, Tony planted his feet and squared his shoulders, keeping his repulsors aimed directly at Hammer's chest.
"So tell me, Mister Hammer," Tony said, dripping with false sincerity. "What exactly did HYDRA promise you in return for not only betraying your country, but also torturing a U.S. citizen and kidnapping a minor? 'Cause I'm guessing that it'd have to be a pretty damn good offer since there's no way in hell that you're ever getting out of this."
Hammer's eyes went wide behind his thousand-dollar glasses, and he smiled, a sadistic smile that caused Tony's blood to crystallise into ice in his veins.
He had always known that Justin Hammer was a jealous, petty man who shamelessly used anyone that he could in order to try to get ahead, but this went even beyond that.
Because the man standing in front of Tony was truly and completely mad.
"Well, I'd appreciate it if you could bear with me for a moment, Anthony, because I'm a bit confused," Hammer said, clasping his hands together. "How exactly am I at a disadvantage here? Because I know I'm not quite the expert on military tactics as Captain Rogers might be, but I do believe that—"
"Don't you even mention his name!" Tony snapped. He took a step forward, which immediately prompted the suit to Hammer's left to aim its repulsor at Tony's chest. "Steve Rogers has more honour in his left pinky toenail that you could ever hope to have in your entire life, so you just keep his name out of your filthy mouth, you got that?"
Hammer blinked, giving a slight cough as he fiddled with the fancy silk tie around his neck. The man had always had a flair for the dramatic.
"Well, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Anthony… You know, one would think that the great and powerful Anthony Stark would have better manners than that. I mean, Howard always had impeccable manners, but I guess that's one thing that he didn't seem to pass down to his son, so—"
"Don't, Tony!" Rhodey hissed when Tony took another step forward. "You know he's just trying to bait you, don't give into it!"
Tony let out a soft growl, gritting his teeth as he stepped back again. Rhodey was right; the last thing they needed now was to start fighting before they had any semblance of a plan in place.
Besides, didn't Peter always say that the bad guy always had to get his monologue in first? May as well let Hammer have his time in his so-called spotlight before things got messy.
"Okay, so, what's your plan then, Hammer?" Tony asked. "You just gonna send out your souped-up suit army here to terrorise everyone who doesn't agree with you? Keep the masses in line, so to speak?"
Hammer chuckled, wagging his finger in Tony's direction. "You always were quite the jokester, weren't you, Anthony? Always so charming, always ready with the quippy one-liners that had everyone rolling and clutching their pearls." The smile dropped from his face as he started to pace back and forth. "As a matter of fact, these babies were initially designed to be defensive only, much like those fancy-schmancy drones that you have mounted on all of those buildings of yours. But now that you and your friends are here, I'm thinking that it might be time for a bit of a test." He turned abruptly, an evil smile stretching across his lips. "You know, since you all just broke in here uninvited and all."
"That tends to happen when you take someone's husband and son prisoner, Hammer!" Tony retorted. "Now, where the hell are they?"
But instead of responding, Hammer only turned to the suits standing in formation behind him, giving them a thumbs-up sign.
"You know, you can't really blame me, Anthony," Hammer said as he turned back around. "I mean, you went ahead and created a sword with untold possibilities and then tried to insist that it was only a shield, so at least I'm not a hypocrite, like you are. I built these suits to be an army, and an army they're gonna be!"
Rage flooded Tony's veins, burning through the ice. How dare Justin Hammer, a complete asshole who never had an original idea in his life, compare his slapped together monstrosities built with stolen alien tech with the Iron Man armour that Tony built to personally exact revenge on the terrorists who tortured his beloved boy and killed Yinsen?
"You goddamn sick son of a bitch! How dare you—!"
"Ah, guys?" Natasha cut in as the suits powered up, the collective whine of their flight stabilisers almost drowning out the Avengers' comms. "Whatever we're gonna do we better do it soon, 'cause it seems like Hammer's done talking."
"Never thought I'd see the day," Tony muttered. He turned his head just enough to glance in Sam's direction. "We've only got three shots available, so we gotta make 'em count."
Sam pursed his lips, glancing towards the ceiling and walls of the prison as he weighed all of the possibilities. The bunker they were trapped in was much larger than the bunker had been down in Miami and also much more wide open, which was actually a disadvantage for the Avengers since only three of the team members could fly.
Which meant that Hammer's suits would most likely target the non-flyers first, which meant that he needed to somehow draw the flyers away from them, which meant that—
"The roof," Tony muttered, hoping that Sam would be able to figure out what he meant. If they could blow a hole in the roof and escape through it, that would force the suits out into the open in order to chase them, giving the non-flyers more room to scatter and take cover.
And, more time find Steve and Peter and get them the hell out of there.
"Three shots targeting the same spot should do it."
"Copy that," said Sam. "You sure you wanna use all three shots for one thing though?"
"Don't see that we've got much of a choice," Tony replied. "If we don't get those suits into some open air it'll be just like you said. They'll squash us all like bugs. Plus it'd be nice if we could break through their cloak and give Bruce a chance to hack into their files before they manage to delete everything."
"Stark, my team has located Captain Rogers," came the voice of George Stacy from somewhere behind him. He and his seven-man team of police and FBI support must've assembled in behind them while Hammer was yammering. "He's in a cell behind what appears to be a wall of glass that's about thirty paces off to our right."
Tony's heart immediately leapt into his throat. "How is he? Stacy? Tell me how he is! Is he hurt?"
"He is badly injured, Mr Stark, but he is alive," Stacy said solemnly. "I saw him myself, so he knows we're here."
"Oh, Christ," Tony breathed, his knees nearly buckling in relief.
Steve was alive. He was hurt, but he was alive.
"Oh, shit!" Rhodey exclaimed as one of Hammer's suits started to lift off from the floor. "Tony, whatever you're gonna do you better do it now, 'cause I'm pretty sure we're out of time!"
Tony breathed in, clenching his jaw. "JARVIS, on my mark, find the weakest spot that you can on this roof and blast it to hell, yeah? Two shots if you can do it, all three if you have to."
"The drone is armed and ready, sir," JARVIS replied.
"All right," Tony said as he powered up his boots. "JARVIS, mark!"
Not even a second later a massive blast shook the complex just as the first Hammer suit became airborne. Tony immediately took off in the direction of the blast, and was about three metres or so away from the ceiling when the second blast hit, opening an entire spider-web of cracks in the thick concrete that looked on quick glance to be deep enough for him to break open.
"Two shots seemed to have done it, sir!" JARVIS said quickly.
"Copy that! And here goes nothing!" Tony muttered, squeezing his eyes closed as he circled back around and slammed into the ceiling, sending broken shards of concrete and shingles flying as he broke through, followed shortly by three of the Hammer suits.
"Rhodey!" Tony shouted as he dove towards the ground. From what he had already seen of the Hammer suits in action he could tell that they couldn't bank worth a damn, just like the Chitauri equipment on which they were based.
"I'm already on your six, Tony," Rhodey said, his words interspersed with HYDRA repulsor and rifle shots as he broke through the hole in the roof, widening it just enough for Sam to fly through with his wings expanded. "And it looks like they're taking the bait!"
"Copy that!" Tony said, grunting as he pulled out of his dive at the last possible second, letting out a triumphant, "woohoo!" when the suit on his tail proceeded to crash into the rocky shoreline. "That's one!"
"Nice flying there, Tony," said Sam. "Barton, you, Nat and Bucky coordinate with Stacy's team to take out the rest of the personnel inside the prison. Once they're all secured, you guys find Steve and Peter and then get the hell outta there."
"Copy that," Clint and Natasha said simultaneously.
"Copy, Mr Wilson," said Stacy. "There is a bit of a problem, though. I'm not sure how we're supposed to get inside Captain Rogers' cell."
"What the hell does that mean?" Tony snapped, swearing as the Hammer suit tailing him fired a compact missile, impacting it between his shoulder blades and briefly knocking him off course. "What do you mean you can't get in?"
"I mean exactly that, Mr Stark," replied Stacy. "I'm standing right in front of his cell right now, but there's no door or any other exit that I can find and Captain Rogers can't locate one on the inside either. There's just this massive window, but it's not made out of any kind of glass that I've ever seen before."
What the hell? Tony thought. He didn't remember the Chitauri tech including glass that wasn't glass, so what the hell else could it be?
"All right, we'll work on that when we can," Sam said from the opposite side of the prison. "Just keep Steve secure in the meantime, yeah?"
"We will, sir," said Stacy, followed by a series of three gunshots. "He's also very concerned for Peter, says he thinks that he saw him briefly before they were both overpowered."
"Hold on," Tony said. He banked suddenly and swooped down, allowing the suit tailing him to fly overhead which he quickly took out with a well-aimed missile right below the neck, the only weak spot that he'd been able to asses on the suits so far.
"Steve only thinks that he saw Pete?" Tony asked, his heart slamming against his ribcage. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Peter wasn't even on the premises. "He doesn't know for sure?"
Stacy hesitated before replying. "Um… to put it delicately, Mr Stark, Captain Rogers is pretty distraught. He has to be in a lot of pain, from the looks of him, and he's also told us that HYDRA has been drugging him, so—"
"Yeah, yeah, okay," Tony said. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his focus on the Hammer suits trying to kill him. Pete wouldn't've led us here if he wasn't here too. "We've got Bruce and our personal physician standing by, so once we're able to get him out I'm sure she'll be able to get him fixed up in no time."
"Copy that," Stacy said through yet another gunshot. "Most of the flying suits have exited the building, but we're still rooting out the rest of the ground personnel inside."
"Then make sure you guys watch your backs," Sam said, swooping over Tony's head, his dual guns blazing. "I don't really feel like having any civilian casualties on my hands today."
"Copy that!"
"Rhodey, Sam, target just below the neck!" Tony called as he dodged yet another repulsor blast, screeching to a halt before launching another missile. "That's the only weak spot I've been able to find, so we gotta exploit it!"
"Gotcha, Tony!" Sam yelled as he landed directly on top of one of the suits, aiming his guns at its neck. "Good call!"
"Goddamnit!" Tony shouted as he was slammed in the back by yet another missile, this one managing to dent his armour. "JARVIS, how many more of these fuckers are there?"
"I am unable to get a completely accurate count while you are in motion, sir, but if I had to guess I'd say there are at least twenty remaining functional suits," answered JARVIS.
"Twenty? How in the hell are there still that many?" Tony cried. "We've already taken out at least a dozen of 'em, and—"
"Yes sir, but I'm afraid Mr Hammer has just recalled several of the suits back inside the structure," said JARVIS. "It appears that he underestimated the ease with which you were able to take them out."
"That's 'cause a cheap copy is never as good as the original," Tony said with a sneer as he turned on a dime, huffing with satisfaction as yet another Hammer suit crashed into the side of the bunker.
See? I can bank worth a damn!
"Very true, sir."
"Tony, they'll be fish in a barrel inside that building," Sam said. "We've gotta try and keep the suits out in the open or else we'll have to call a Code Green, and I really don't want to have to do that."
"That'd be my preference as well," Bruce suddenly piped up over the comm. "The hole you guys blew in the ceiling took out both HYDRA's cloaking ability and the sensor jam, so I'm trying to transfer as many files as I can before they're gone. We're gonna need all the evidence we can get to root out all the moles they've got scattered across the world."
"Copy that," Tony replied as he swerved, heading back towards the hole in the roof. "Then I think it's time for a new plan."
At the moment Peter couldn't tell what was worse: the fact that his entire family was out there being forced to fight against a bunch of Chitauri-enhanced suits, or the fact that he was essentially stuck inside an impenetrable box, unable to help them.
He had already tried punching through the glass wall of his cell, badly bruising his knuckles in the process when the wall didn't budge in the slightest. It obviously wasn't glass, but as to what it could possibly be Peter had no idea. He only knew that he had to get out of there.
But with no other visible doors or exits he couldn't figure how it would be possible, and he couldn't remember being put in there in the first place since it was right after he'd been forced to see all of those horrible visions.
Suppressing a shudder, Peter stepped up to the window, placing his palms against it. The Hammer suits had all taken off after Dad and Uncle James, but just in the last minute or so he could hear them returning, apparently trying to track down the ground personnel still inside the building.
I've gotta get out of here! he thought desperately. He had no idea what had happened to Papa after he was taken away, but Peter had a bad feeling that it wasn't anything good. Papa was in such rough shape that Peter couldn't understand how he was even still alive, and he knew they had to find him as soon as possible.
"Hello?" Peter yelled, slapping his palms hard against the transparent wall, cringing as the pounding in his head ramped back up to an almost unbearable level. "Hello? Is anyone out there?"
Several minutes passed as Peter waited, the bunker echoing with the fierce sounds of gunshots, metal crashing against stone, and lots and lots of shouting. From what he had gathered from the various voices barking orders, Gwen's father was there in the bunker with the rest of the team along with a few other police officers, which hopefully meant that the rest of the world would soon be aware of exactly what had been going on there.
Or at least it would be if the good guys managed to win, which at the moment didn't quite seem like a given.
"Hello?" Peter screamed again, slapping the wall so hard that it sent pain shooting up his arms like a million tiny electrical charges. "Please, someone let me out of here!"
Once again he waited for what seemed like an eternity, and was just about to give up and try and figure out something else when suddenly the red-haired girl appeared off to the side, her arms wrapped around her front and her shoulders shaking in fear.
"Hey, hey, hey?" Peter said as he waved at her, trying to be as polite as possible in his franticness. His Spider Sense was being continually activated with everything that was going on around them, but the girl herself didn't appear to be a direct threat.
"I'm sorry, I'm afraid that I don't know your name, but can you help me get out of here?"
The girl startled, almost as if she wasn't used to being addressed in such a manner. She took a single step forward, biting her lip.
"I'm—I'm not supposed to talk to you," she said in an accent that Peter couldn't quite place, and barely loud enough for him to hear over the deafening roar of the battle.
"Oh, don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Peter assured her. "I was just wondering if you knew how I could get out of here?"
The girl's face drained of colour so fast that Peter was afraid she was about to pass out, and she rapidly shook her head. "I can't—I'm not—I'm not supposed to—I'm sorry, I need to go—"
"No!" Peter shrieked, causing her to whip around, her eyes wide. "No, please don't go away. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I just…" He took a deep breath, forcing himself to smile. "My name is Peter. Peter Stark-Rogers. What's yours?"
She tilted her head, as if she was trying to remember that she actually had a name. "Wanda," she finally said. "Wanda Maximoff."
"Oh," Peter said with a nod. "Um… hi. It's nice to meet you. I'm fifteen, how old are you?"
For a moment Wanda looked confused. "I'm—I'm eighteen."
"Oh, so you're not much older than me," Peter said. He sucked in a deep breath, contemplating his next question. "Have you been here a long time?"
Wanda's lower lip shook as glanced around, making sure she couldn't be overheard. "Yes," she whispered, almost conspiratorially. "Ever since they killed my father."
"Oh no," Peter said softly. "I am so, so sorry about that. HYDRA killed him?"
"Yes. He refused to help them, said he would rather die first," Wanda said. "His parents were killed in a work camp during one of the last big wars, so… the thought of working for people like that, he just—he couldn't take it." A tear rolled down Wanda's cheek that she quickly brushed away. "He tried to escape here one night, but he—this place, there wasn't enough metal in it for him to be able to get out, not with me and my brother, so they caught him again, and—"
She broke off then, covering her face with her hands. "They made my brother and me watch while they—while they killed him, and then they took us and gave us some kind of drug, and—"
"And it burned, right?" Peter asked, letting out a hard shudder. "The drug? It burned going in?"
"Like fire," Wanda said, sniffing. "Like my very blood had turned into molten lava." She shot him a quizzical look. "You know of this?"
"Yeah, I do, 'cause they did the same thing to me," answered Peter. "It was a different place, and they were different people, but they were still HYDRA. They were trying to take over my mind, only… it didn't quite work."
Wanda took a step back, scrubbing the tears from her cheeks with her palms. "Well, I guess you're stronger than I was, 'cause I couldn't fight them. They gave me that drug, and it poisoned my mind so that now all they have to do is say the words, and—"
"And you turn into one of them," Peter finished.
"Yes," Wanda said, surprised. "But how—how do you know?"
"'Cause it's like I told you. They tried to do the same thing to me, only it didn't exactly work the way they thought it would," Peter said. "I'm… well… I guess you could say that I'm a bit different from most people, and so the words didn't affect me the same way. But one of my uncles, those words used to work on him. HYDRA had taken him and turned him into a cold-blooded killer, so once we found him my dad developed a piece of technology that was able to take the words out of his head. And now he's free of them, and so am I. And I know that my dad would be willing to do the same for you and your brother once we get out of here."
A particularly loud crash caused them both to jump, with Wanda clapping her hands over her ears. "I can't. I just… I'm sorry, but I can't," she murmured, shaking her head. "If they catch me helping someone again then they'll hurt my brother, and I can't let that happen. He's already been through so much trying to protect me. My father—my father made him promise that he would, before—"
"Okay, but please, just listen to me?" Goosebumps covered nearly Peter's entire body from the shivers running down his spine, and the battle sounds were getting louder and more frantic. The odds did not seem to be in the Avengers' favour at the moment, so Peter needed to be out there, helping his family.
"I know that what I'm about to say probably won't mean much, and I'm really sorry if it comes across as petty or unsympathetic, but I really, really need to get out of here. That's my entire family out there right now that's fighting against those horrible robots, and they really could use my help. So if there's any way that you would know how to get me out of here, I can't tell you how much I would appreciate it."
Wanda's eyebrows knitted together as she looked Peter up and down. "How would you be able to help the Avengers?"
Peter frowned, holding out his hands. "It's a bit hard to explain. I know I don't exactly look it, but I'm—I'm really, really strong. And sticky. I can climb walls and stuff, so—"
"So you're like me!" Wanda said in a rush, glancing furtively down at her hands. "And my brother, and my father! You're a—you're a—?"
"Yeah, I'm enhanced, I guess you'd call it," Peter answered. "And so's my papa and some of my uncles, but my papa's been hurt real bad so my dad and the rest of the team needs my help." He huffed out a sharp breath, pressing his forehead against the window. "Can you please just let me out of here? Please? I promise that my dad will be able to help both you and your brother once all this is over, but that's not gonna happen unless I can get out of here."
"Your papa, he is Captain Rogers?" asked Wanda.
Peter gave a nod, flinching as he heard another crash of metal against stone. "Yeah, that's him. And my dad is Iron Man."
Once again Wanda's eyes filled with fear, and she glanced down at her hands, twisting them as flashes of bright red light sparkled between her fingers. Peter instinctively gulped and stepped back; apparently she was the one who had caused him to have that horrible vision where he saw Dad and Papa's graves, and saw Gwen fall to her death.
And if that was the case, then Peter didn't think he wanted to know what she'd been forced to make Papa see, not to mention the fact that Papa thought he was fighting against Dad when Peter first got there. No wonder Papa had told him that he didn't know what was real anymore.
"I don't—I don't know. I've done—they've made me do so many terrible things. I've—I've hurt so many people… made them see their worst fears as if they were happening. If I were to ever go out there everyone would be afraid of me, so I don't think—"
"Look," Peter interrupted, suppressing another shiver. It was time to try a different approach. "Do you like to read? Books? Before they brought you here, did you ever like to read books?"
"Sometimes," Wanda answered, obviously confused. "But I don't see how—?"
But Peter didn't even let her finish. "Okay, so for school this year I had to read this book called Frankenstein, which is about a kind of a weird scientist guy who creates a sort of creature that everyone views as a monster. But the monster's not really a monster, he's actually just kinda lonely. You know, trying to find his place in a world where everyone's scared of him. And so he asks his creator, the scientist, if he'll make him a companion, someone else like him so he doesn't have to be lonely anymore. But the scientist says no, you see, 'cause he's already afraid of his own creation, and he thinks if he makes another one that he'll lose control of them both."
Wanda twisted her hands again, no doubt thinking of her brother.
"Um, can your brother run really fast?" Peter asked gently. "Is that why they keep him locked up?"
"Yes," Wanda whispered. "They only let him out when they need him to do something for them. And they always use the words first, so he never even remembers what he's done afterwards." She paused, chomping down hard on her bottom lip. "But for some reason, I can always remember what I've done, which is why—" Another tear streaked its way down her cheek. "It's why your papa is afraid of me now. Whenever he sees me, he's terrified. I can see it in his eyes."
"Oh," Peter said, feeling like he'd just been punched in the gut. The last thing Papa needed was more fodder for his nightmares.
"Um… well, that's probably even more reason to try and get those words out of your mind though, don't you think?" Peter said. "Then they won't be able to control you anymore. You'll have your own mind back. And we can do the same for your brother too, but you gotta let me out of here first, okay? Please?"
There was a pause as Wanda pondered Peter's words, her hands wringing and twisting in front of her, generating little flashes of red.
"What ends up happening to the monster?" she asked. "In your schoolbook, what happens to him?"
Peter breathed in, squaring his shoulders. "He ends up destroying his creator, and then he goes free."
Wanda's frightened eyes went wide, and she swallowed hard, closing her hands into tight fists as she nodded.
"I'll be right back," she said firmly. And then she turned on her heel and walked away, heading in the opposite direction of the battle.
"Um… okay," Peter said as he watched her go, flinching at another ear-splitting crash. "Then I guess I'll just wait here?"
He impatiently tapped his fingers on the not-glass as he waited for her to return, trying not to itch at the healing cuts on his face and growing more and more anxious by the second until he saw her coming back towards him, a slim metal device in her hand that kinda looked like a pen.
"This will unlock the cell," she said, touching the device to the window. Peter couldn't help but let out an amazed, "Whoa!" as the not-glass immediately began to dissolve right in front of him, creating a hole just large enough for him to get through.
"What exactly is this stuff?" Peter said as soon as he'd stepped into the hallway. He reached behind him, relieved to find his mask still attached to his suit.
"I don't know the name of it," said Wanda. "All I know is that HYDRA stole it from a country that's known only in legends."
"Yeah, well, that's not shocking." He pulled on his mask, glancing in both directions as he tried to get his bearings. "I need to find my papa. Will you help me?"
Peter's belly gave a hard swoop when Wanda shook her head, holding up the device. "I need to find my brother first. I just—I took this from our lead scientist's things, and if I'm discovered—"
"Yeah, okay," Peter said rapidly. "But will you come back once you find him? My papa is hurt, and I need to get him out of here so the doctor can help him."
"I promise. As soon as I find Pietro, I'll come and help you."
"Okay," Peter said. "Thank you."
With a final nod, Wanda trotted off as Peter headed for the huge, arena-like area, his eyes widening in shock as one of the Hammer suits flew by him, repulsors aimed and firing right at Dad's heels, the left of which was sputtering slightly. He quickly launched a web, grabbing the suit around its ankle and digging his heels into the hard concrete floor.
"Oh no you don't!" he said, straining against the web as the suit attempted to jerk itself free. Grunting, Peter slowly pulled the suit towards him, finally getting enough leverage so he could slam it down onto the floor, sending pieces of it skittering across the concrete.
"Птер?" Uncle Bucky exclaimed as he came careening around the corner, narrowly avoiding being hit by one of the flying components as he skidded to a stop. "Holy shit, where'd you come from? Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Peter said, ducking as Uncle Bucky aimed at another suit at least twenty metres away, landing a perfect shot between the thing's neck and shoulder. "Where's Papa, did you guys find him yet?"
"The cop, Stacy, he's keeping an eye on Стив while we try to figure out how to get him outta his box," said Uncle Bucky. "But by my count, we've still got about ten or so of these damn things left so it might be awhile."
"Okay, but…" Peter couldn't help it; he just had to ask. "Um… do you know if Gwen's okay? She's not—she didn't get hurt, did she?"
"Uhh, far as I know your girl's back in New York," Uncle Bucky said, obviously confused. "It's only her dad that came with us. Why?"
"Oh, nothing, just making sure," Peter said with a rapid shake of his head. "Um… there's a red-haired girl, her name's Wanda, and she was being held captive here too. She's the one who got me out of my cell, and she told me that once she found where they were keeping her brother, she was gonna head down to get Papa out."
Uncle Bucky gave a nod as he aimed his rifle again, letting out a muttered curse when a sudden explosion behind them knocked him off balance just enough to miss the shot.
"C'mon, Птер, we should be getting you outta here—"
"No. I'm gonna stay and help," Peter said firmly just as yet another suit flew in through the hole in the roof, aiming directly for Uncle Sam. Peter immediately launched another web, catching the suit around its neck as it flew overhead.
"Oh boy," Peter muttered as he was suddenly yanked off his feet. He shimmied up the web rope, the suit diving and swerving like a wild bronco trying to buck off its rider as Peter climbed up onto its back.
"This might not have been one of my better ideas!"
"Pete, is that you? What the hell are you doing?" Dad yelled as he flew by, aiming blast after blast at the suit he was tailing. Dad's armour was dented and covered with dings and bullet holes, and looked to be on the verge of completely losing power. From Peter's perspective, he definitely needed the help.
"Hey, Dad!" Peter called as Dad finally landed a shot right below the Hammer suit's neck, sending it crashing towards the floor.
"And… uh… I'm not exactly sure," he said under his breath, barely able to hold on as the suit he was riding abruptly changed course again. He scanned its head and neck area, figuring that the team was targeting that section for a reason. "Below the neck, below the neck, below the neck. Ah yeah, there it is!"
Apparently Justin Hammer, and Quentin Beck, for that matter, had thought it was a good idea to put their suits' secondary power relay in a vulnerable spot. It was the ultimate in arrogance to think that nothing would ever be able to actually get behind the suit to target it, since severing that connection was enough to cause a catastrophic power failure in the entire thing.
"No wonder Hammer's company never sold anything of actual importance!" Peter said, grunting as he wiggled his fingers into the juncture between the suit's neck and shoulder and proceeded to yank out the relay. The suit immediately let out a loud whine, sputtering as Peter pulled hard on his web rope, trying to steer it away from the oncoming wall of the bunker.
"Okay, turn! Turn! Turn! Please, turn!" he begged, finally getting the suit to shift just enough to avoid crashing into the wall before guiding it to a semi-smooth landing on the concrete floor.
"Yeah," Peter said as he hopped off, quickly backing away. "Yeah, don't think I'll be doing that again anytime soon!"
"Pete?" Dad yelled as he flew overhead again, with Uncle James not too far behind. "Pete, you stand down now, okay? There's only two or three of these bastards left and we've got 'em!"
"But—!"
"And don't you even think about arguing with me, you got that?" Dad snapped before Peter could barely get a word out. "You're already in hot water, don't you go adding more to it!"
Peter scowled behind his mask, his shoulders sagging.
Well… fine! Be that way!
With a huff, Peter took off jogging towards the opposite end of the bunker, hoping to run into Wanda or Mr Stacy or someone else who might know where Papa was being kept. He was beyond ready to get out of there and go home.
Tony cursed as he swerved yet again, trying to compensate for the power fallout in his left boot as he aimed the last of his arm missiles at the back of the Hammer suit in front of him.
"Take that, you ugly piece of shit!" he muttered as the missile embedded itself right below the neck of the suit and exploded, shearing the suit's head clean off before the rest of it impacted against the wall.
"Rhodey, how many more?"
"Three, by my count," said Rhodey as he flew past Tony, shooting as he went and managing to trap another suit between himself and the wall, taking it out with a well-aimed machine gun shot.
"Nope, on second thought, now there's just two."
"All right, then," Tony said, pursing his lips as he took after one of the suits trying to escape back through the hole in the roof. Tony ducked down, coming up directly underneath it and activating his laser just as they both exited the bunker to an unexpected flash of bright sunlight. Tony winced, distracted by the light just long enough to allow the Hammer suit time to swing around and knock him between the shoulder blades with one of their Chitauri grenade thingys.
"Goddamnit!" Tony yelled, grunting in pain as he dove down, trying to shake the stupid thing off his tail. That was the third direct hit that he'd taken in that very same spot, and he was definitely starting to feel it. "Rhodey? Where the hell are you?"
"On it!" Rhodey replied in a boom of afterburners, flying past Tony while launching his own grenades. One of them happened to explode right next to the suit's leg, knocking it off-course just enough for Tony to re-aim his laser below the thing's neck, knocking out the critical power relay as he breathed out a huge sigh of relief.
"Mr Stark?" Stacy suddenly said over the comm. "I have Captain Rogers here, sir, he's been released from his cell."
"Oh sweet Jesus," Tony breathed, tears of relief stinging his eyes. "Then get him the hell out of there, okay? Helen and Bruce should be arriving in a chopper anytime now, and—"
"Um, I'm sorry, Mr Stark, but he's refusing to leave the building," interrupted Stacy. "He says he won't leave until he knows for sure that his family is safe."
"Oh good grief, Steve," Tony grumbled, rolling his eyes. Goddamn stubborn soldier. Apparently being held in captivity by HYDRA for almost a month hadn't made a dent in that aspect of his husband's personality.
Which, Tony had to admit, was likely the main reason why he was still alive in the first place.
"All right then, fine. But make sure he's kept out of any of the lines of fire, you got that?"
"There are ten of us here, Mr Stark, including Peter and the young lady who opened the cell, and her brother, who I'm pretty sure just took out most if not all of the resistance left inside here. Sergeant Barnes and Agent Romanoff just went to have a final look."
"Copy that," Tony said, circling back towards the far section of the bunker just in time to see what he hoped was the final suit crash down onto the ocean-drenched rocks.
"Pretty sure that one was it," Rhodey replied as he flew back around, stopping to hover across from Tony. "Falcon, can you confirm?"
"Doing a final sweep of the perimeter now, and all I'm seeing is a lot of debris," said Sam. "Looks like we did it, guys."
"Okay, so—"
"Tony, go to your husband," Sam said. "That's an order."
A lump the size of a marble rose in Tony's throat.
"Yes, sir."
Shifting course, Tony flew back towards the hole in the roof with his heart stuttering, landing on the concrete floor not too far away from where Bucky stood guarding a handcuffed Justin Hammer, his expression suggesting that he wished he could squeeze Hammer's head in with his metal hand. Next to Hammer sat Quentin Beck, who shot a sharp glare in Tony's direction before returning his gaze to the feet of his guarding police officer, with a third man with salt-and-pepper hair sitting next to Beck and shaking his head.
But aside from that brief passing glance, Tony's entire focus was on his husband and son, sitting against the far wall surrounded by the rest of their family.
"JARVIS, copy everything that you see in my HUD right now and send it to Pepper," Tony ordered, zooming in first on Peter's bruised and bleeding cheeks, then scanning across Steve's battered body as best as he could through the crowd of Avengers, police, and FBI agents. "Please also ask her if she wouldn't mind getting some preliminary media statements ready, but only with people she trusts. I wanna make sure the entire world knows what those assholes were doing here."
"Very good, sir," JARVIS said. "And Dr Banner reports that he and Dr Cho are about five minutes out. They are planning on transporting Captain Rogers to an Atlanta hospital once he is stabilised. Dr Cho has requested that an entire section be cordoned off for his care."
"Yeah, okay," Tony said, gasping as his HUD shifted to Steve's face, so bruised and swollen and bloody beneath his matted facial hair that he was barely recognisable. He was lying on the floor, propped up against Peter and holding Peter's hand against his chest with a white-knuckled grip. Peter looked up as Tony approached, whispering something into Steve's ear that caused him to try and push himself up to sit.
"No, no, no, honey, don't," Tony choked out. "Don't try to move just yet, okay?" He fell to his knees next to his boys as his helmet retracted, pulling Peter into a fierce hug.
"You okay, buddy?"
"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine," Peter murmured, muffled against Tony's neck. "Papa's the one who's hurt."
"All right." Tony pulled back, trying to look stern even though he knew he was utterly failing. "But don't you ever, ever pull something like that again, you got that? Not ever! Jesus Christ, Pete, we didn't know where in the hell you were!"
Peter huffed, the effect of his attempted glare lessened by the fact that his eyes were bruised and bloodshot and both of his cheeks were scratched and bleeding. He looked like he could sleep for a week, and most likely would he got cleaned up and ate something.
"That was kinda the point of it, Dad," he said quietly. "But anyway, I'm fine. Papa's the one who's hurt."
"Tony!" Steve suddenly said, struggling against his damaged abdomen to try and sit up. "Tony? Is it—are you—?"
"Honey, please!" Tony pleaded, his hand on Steve's shoulder, the only unblemished spot on his body that he could seem to find. "Don't try to move too much, okay? Helen and Bruce are on their way."
Slowly, Steve turned his head, his swollen and split lower lip trembling as his battered but still-gorgeous blue eyes attempted to focus in on Tony's face.
"Is he?" Steve whispered, so softly it was barely audible, his eyes flicking up towards Peter. "Are you sure he's—?"
"It's really him, Papa, I promise," Peter said softly. "HYDRA can't trick you anymore."
"It's—it's not—" Steve said, breaking off as he sucked in air, his lungs rattling just like they had after he was shot by the Winter Soldier, during the Malibu house bombing. "Tony, you—you're real? You're not just another illusion?"
Tony moved closer, keeping his eyes locked with Steve as he retracted his left arm gauntlet, showing Steve the wedding ring that he'd placed on Tony's finger over two years ago.
"I'm real, honey. See?" he said gently, the titanium band etched through with the faint red stripe catching on the single beam of sunlight coming through the hole in the roof. "Do you remember giving me this?"
Tears welled in Steve's beautiful eyes, and he raised his shaking left hand, bruised and bloodied across the knuckles and only partially covered by a torn fingerless glove.
"They took—HYDRA, they…" He paused to suck in air, his entire body shuddering and his teeth clenched. "Oh God, Tony they took mine! They took it from me, and I don't—I don't know where it is, and—"
"Shh, honey," Tony whispered, his own eyes so filled with tears he could barely see. He carefully cupped Steve's cheek, his heart giving a painful lurch when Steve leaned his head against it. "It's okay, I can make you a new one, yeah? I'll make you a thousand new rings if it means that you'll be back home with me. With us."
"Home," Steve said, attempting to nod as his hand came up to cover Tony's. "I want—I want to go home."
Tony glanced up at Peter, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Just as Tony had feared, Steve was too badly injured to just head back to the Tower.
"We'll go home just as soon as we get you fixed up again, okay?" Tony said. "Helen and Bruce are already on their way, so it won't be too long."
"Tony, two choppers just landed not too far from the main entrance," said Natasha. "Clint's heading out there now."
"One of them should be an FBI transport chopper," said George Stacy. "I've already made arrangements for a secured holding facility in Atlanta until we can figure out what to do with the prisoners."
"I know we'd all appreciate it if you could personally oversee the transfer and arraignment of these prisoners, Chief Stacy, until we know better who else we can trust," Sam said. "I can ask Natasha and Clint if they'll go with you for extra security if you'd like."
"I wouldn't hear of anything else, Mr Wilson," Stacy said proudly. "And I would appreciate the agents' help if they don't mind."
The conversation continued but Tony barely listened, too focused on his husband to pay more than the minimal amount of attention until Bruce and Helen arrived. Steve's eyes never left Tony's face as Helen conducted a quick initial assessment, starting two separate IV lines before giving Steve an injection of a pain medication that was just strong enough for Tony and Peter to be able to lift him onto the stretcher without hurting him too badly.
"Don't—!" Steve shrieked as Tony carefully placed him down, gripping Tony's hand. "Tony, don't leave me! Please, don't—!"
Tony shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks as he leaned in to press his lips to Steve's, who's eyelids were barely still open. The pain medicine must've affected him more than Helen originally thought. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
"Okay," Steve whispered as his eyes fully closed. "Thank you."
Oh God, honey, Tony thought as Peter pushed the stretcher out of the building, loading it into the medical chopper. You will never have to thank me for loving you.
Not ever.
Tony was relieved to find that the hospital in Atlanta had already been security checked and cleared by the time they arrived, with Happy personally standing guard outside of the cordoned-off treatment room while Helen examined Steve. Steve was unconscious, the result of another dose of Helen's super-soldier pain medication that she gave him right before they landed. He had been trying to just bear through the pain, and even tried to convince Tony that he didn't need it, but thankfully Tony was able to get him to change his mind. He was in such bad shape that Helen couldn't even examine him while awake without risk of causing further injury, so she'd instead busied herself with tending to Peter's minor injuries during the flight, which turned out to be not much more than a few cuts and a lot of bruises, all of which had already started to heal.
Unfortunately, it was Steve's similar healing factor that was now working against him, causing many of the broken bones that he'd suffered during his torture to heal out of whack.
And so Tony sat, carefully clutching Steve's bruised left hand as Helen completed her examination, including blood tests and X-rays of pretty much every single bone in Steve's body. Bucky and Sam, accompanied by two of Happy's guards, had taken Peter to the hospital cafeteria to get something to eat and were then supposed to have him try and get some sleep, so Tony knew that he was in good hands.
"All right, Tony," Helen began, and Tony immediately cringed. He'd been around enough doctors and hospitals in his lifetime to be able to recognise that voice that doctors tended to use whenever they had to break some particularly bad news.
"How bad—" he started, slamming his jaw closed when Helen raised her hand.
"Just… let me finish, okay?"
At Tony's nod, Helen gave him a sympathetic smile. "There's nothing life-threatening, so you don't need to worry about that. Captain Rogers has several broken bones, including his left cheek and orbital bones, his left ulna, three ribs on his left side and two on his right, his left fibula, and most of the bones in his left foot. He also has two broken knuckles on his right hand, as well as a hairline fracture of the right radius that's already calloused over, so I'm guessing that was one of his earliest injuries."
Tony gulped, carefully cradling Steve's hand. "Okay, so… what do we do now?"
Helen sucked in a deep breath. "Well, his foot will require surgery. The metatarsals have been broken and rehealed so many times that they are now grossly out of alignment, rendering the foot pretty much useless. I've telephoned the top orthopaedic surgeon in New York, and he's already on his way here. We'll begin the surgery as soon as he arrives."
"And you think this guy will be able to fix it?" Tony asked. If Steve was never able to run again… well… Tony didn't want to have to think about that at the moment.
"With my help, I believe that he can," Helen said. "Dr Wright has pioneered many new techniques during his twenty years of practice, and is the only orthopaedic surgeon that I would personally trust with the captain."
"Well, that's all the confirmation that I need then," Tony said quickly. "Long as you're in there with him."
"I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else," replied Helen. "And while we're in the operating room, we will also repair Captain Rogers' cheekbone and realign one of the broken ribs on his left side, which is currently scraping against his lung."
Tony instinctively shuddered, leaning down to kiss Steve's hand just as he jerked awake.
"Tony!" he said, his blue eyes clouded with fear and pain as they studied Tony's face. "Are you—you're still real?"
Tony quickly glanced at Helen, who gave a small shake of her head. Mental injuries weren't her thing, they were Sam's, who no doubt was going to have his work cut out for him once they finally were able to get Steve home.
But first they had to take care of his physical injuries.
"Tony, what's—what's happening? Where's Peter?"
"Shh, honey," Tony murmured, stroking Steve's hair, matted and covered with grime. "Pete's with Bucky and Sam. They're taking care of him so Helen and I can take care of you, okay?"
Steve stared into Tony's eyes for several seconds before giving a brief nod. "Okay. Thank you."
"Steve, honey, please stop telling me thank you, yeah?" Tony said as he kissed Steve's knuckles. "I love you, all right? I love you so much, and you will never have to thank me for it. Not ever."
"Okay, but I'm still going to," Steve said, stifling a cough. "So you're just gonna have to get used to it."
"Captain Rogers," Helen said gently, placing a soft hand on Steve's shoulder. "Captain, you're going to need surgery on your foot. There's a surgeon already flying down here from New York, and—"
"I don't want to be put under," Steve cut in, squeezing Tony's hand so hard that he popped two of his knuckles. "Tony, please, don't let them put me under! Please, I don't want to!"
"Honey, I don't know—"
"It's all right, Captain, we can do the surgery without a general anaesthetic," Helen said. "It might take all the lidocaine in the entire state of Georgia to keep you numbed up, but I'll make sure that Dr Wright is aware of the Captain's metabolic requirements."
"Thank you, Helen," Tony said, breathing out a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was to have to argue with his stubborn-as-hell husband over the best way to treat his multiple injuries.
"Tell you what," Helen continued. "I need to go and check on the setup for the operating room, so Tony, why don't you get Captain Rogers cleaned up while we're waiting?" She pointed to a small bathroom off of the examining room. "There's a basin and washcloths in there that you can use."
"Sure thing," Tony said, swallowing down his trepidation as Helen left the room. He'd given Peter sponge baths plenty of times when he was in the hospital, but he hadn't had half the bones in his body all busted up at the time.
"I'll be right back, honey, yeah?" Tony said, softly kissing Steve's cheek. "Think you'll feel a lot better once we wash all this grime off of ya."
"Tony, you don't have to—" Steve started.
"Stop," Tony said, brushing his fingers across Steve's lips. "Stop that right now. You stayed by my side in the hospital for weeks while I was out of commission, so now it's my turn. In sickness and in health, right?"
Steve nodded, his beautiful blue eyes glassy. "Till death do us part."
"Damn right."
Helen had cut that damned HYDRA uniform from Steve's body once they'd wheeled him into the exam room, so Steve was already naked underneath the layers of blankets piled on top of him. After making sure that the water was warm enough, Tony started with his feet and legs, washing the dirt and dried blood from Steve's skin while being very careful to not aggravate his severe injuries or the two IV lines running nourishing fluids into his veins. His left foot alone almost made Tony want to vomit, the limb so crushed and misshapen that he couldn't understand how Steve had even been able to stand, much less walk, as Peter had witnessed at the bunker.
And the whole time Steve's eyes never left Tony's face, as if he were afraid that if he looked away, Tony would disappear.
"I'm still here, honey," he said once he finished with Steve's abdomen and chest. His pale skin was almost covered with huge black and purple bruises, only increasing Tony's desire to personally strangle every single piece of HYDRA scum that had ever dared to lay a finger on his family.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Thank you," Steve said, so sincerely that Tony couldn't even bring himself to chastise him.
"Not like I'm gonna turn down the opportunity to see you naked," Tony said with a wink, earning a weak half-smile from his husband as he got started on Steve's hair, saving his bruised and swollen face for last.
"So…" Tony said as he carefully cupped Steve's right cheek—the less beat-up side—as he regarded the overgrown whiskers covering the lower half of his husband's face. Steve had always hated having any facial hair; he'd always said that it made him itch something fierce.
"Would you want me to shave you, honey? Might help you feel a bit better."
Steve's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Yes, please," he whispered. "It—it itches."
Rummaging around in the bathroom, Tony found a small can of shaving foam and a brand-new razor, no doubt courtesy of Happy since the razor was the exact same type that he used. Steve's beard was so long and matted that Tony had to use scissors first, clipping away the smelly, filthy whiskers before lathering Steve's cheeks and chin with the foam. It took Tony almost an hour to finish, as careful as he was to not press too hard on Steve's broken cheekbone. But once he was done and had rinsed the last remnants of the shaving cream away, Tony's breath caught in his throat as he looked down at his husband, his eyes still glued to Tony's face.
It was Steve. Bruised and battered, but it was still him.
Steve was back.
There had been so many nights over the past month where Tony feared that he might never see Steve again, and now—now he was right there, right in front of him.
HYDRA had done everything in their power to try and break him, but Steve had refused to give in, just like he always had. Tony had never known Steve to back down from a fight, even when the odds were practically insurmountable against him.
"I love you," he said as he leaned forward and buried his nose into Steve's neck, almost too choked up to get the words out. Steve smelled like shaving cream and the hospital soap that he'd just used to wash him, but underneath it there was still that lingering scent of vanilla that Tony had always loved.
It was the smell of his beloved husband, and now he had him back.
"I love you so damn much, and when I thought that—God, Steve, I don't know what I would've done if—if you—"
"Tony," Steve whispered, his fingers slowly threading into Tony's hair as he turned his head, his lips brushing across Tony's cheek as Tony shifted so he could kiss him properly, nearly sobbing once they finally connected. Steve's lips were dry, chapped, and swollen, but it was still one of the best kisses that Tony had ever had in his life because Steve—his husband—was finally back.
"I love you too," murmured Steve once they broke apart, their foreheads pressed together and tears streaking down both their cheeks. "And I can't wait to go home with you and our son."
"Soon as we get you fixed up, babe, okay?"
Steve gave a nod just as there was a knock at the door, with Tony quickly swiping his tears away.
"Come in?"
The door opened and Happy poked his head inside. "Ah, Dr Cho says that the surgeon has arrived and is already set up in the operating room, if Captain Rogers is ready."
Tony glanced down at Steve, who gave him a determined nod.
"Yeah, we're ready. Is Pete still asleep?"
Happy grimaced. "Actually, he's already scrubbed in and talking the surgeon's ear off, asking him all kinds of questions. He told me that he wanted to be in there with you guys, and I'm sorry, but I just couldn't say no to him."
Tony and Steve locked eyes, a slight smile playing on both their lips.
"Pete give you those puppy dog eyes of his there, Hap?" asked Tony.
"Ah, yeah," Happy admitted, his eyes downcast. "Yeah, he sure did."
"Well, then I guess we'd better get going. Let's get this over with."
Steve clung tightly to Tony's hand while Happy wheeled him down the hall to the operating room, with Peter giving Tony a sheepish look over his surgical mask once he got inside.
"Sorry, Dad, but I just—I just wanted to be here, and—"
"Nah, it's okay, buddy," Tony said. "I know Papa's happy you're here too."
As Helen wheeled Steve into position, Tony and Peter took their places at his sides, each holding onto one of his hands. The surgeon had the typical bedside manner of most of the surgeons that Tony had met, but absolutely lived up to Helen's recommendation, working quickly and effectively while answering almost all of Peter's never-ending questions.
And the whole time, Steve never let go of their hands, not even once. Even when the surgeon had to pause so more local anaesthetic could be delivered, Steve's grip on Tony's hand never faltered.
And once the surgery was over, and Peter had given Steve a complete play-by-play of his Decathlon competition while his cheekbone and ribs were put back into their proper places and his left foot was rebuilt using pins and plates and screws and placed inside the largest cast Tony had ever seen, and once Helen was satisfied with Steve's level of pain control and Tony had made his follow-up appointment with the surgeon's office in New York, the entire team boarded the Stark Industries jet and headed home, flanked by two Air Force F-22s.
And once they were back, safe and sound in their Tower penthouse, with Steve's healing foot carefully propped up on pillows on their bed and he and Peter cuddled up in his arms, Tony laid his head down against Steve's chest and closed his eyes, finally allowing his tense, exhausted body to relax for the first time in over a month.
Tony knew that it wasn't completely over yet. While several arrests had already been made in the couple of days since the battle against the Chitauri-enhanced Hammer suits and most of the remaining HYDRA agents were on the run, Tony knew that it was going to be awhile before things managed to get back to some semblance of normal. The fact that the Secretary of Agriculture was currently the acting President of the United States was just one example of how deeply HYDRA's roots had managed to take hold inside the U.S. government, with many of the other major world powers experiencing similar fallouts in their own governments once the news stories started coming out.
But in that moment, cuddled up next to his living, breathing husband, his strong arm heavy around Tony's waist and the sound of his heartbeat beneath his ear, Tony didn't really much care about the turmoil the rest of the country was in, because his was finally over.
Steve was home.
Their family had won
Next week's chapter will conclude this story! Thank you to everyone reading!
As always, I can't wait to see what you think! Please don't hesitate to leave me a review! :)