A Worthy Leader
Stunned silence reigned.
"That... is not supposed to happen, is it?" Captain America spoke up doubtfully.
"You." Thor's chest was heaving, his eyes bugging out in disbelief. "You're NOT WORTHY!"
"Dude," Barton interrupted, "looks to me like he is."
The Black Widow raised one impressed eyebrow at Harry. Meanwhile, Thor was very obviously losing his shit, looking up at the sky and asking in his booming, inebriated voice why his father hated him so.
"Erm." Harry slowly lowered the hammer. "I'm sorry?"
"Fascinating," Sherlock Holmes's voice cut across the scene. "Utterly fascinating. Only one worthy of ruling the realm of Asgard is supposed to be able to pick up Thor's Hammer. No ordinary mortal should ever fit the description, according to the legend. It follows then, Mister Potter, that you are no ordinary mortal." His expression brightened. "But of course, we already knew that. So is it because of your special abilities that you are able to lift the hammer, or is it because you have died and thus no longer count as a regular 'mortal'?"
Harry blanched. He suddenly had a very clear idea of why he was able to snatch that hammer from the air and hold it. It took all of his mental fortitude not to reach for the stone in his trousers' secret, magically hidden pocket.
He wasn't sure how much he trusted either the Holmes brothers or the Avengers. Neither group need ever hear a single word about the Deathly Hallows, ever.
Even worse, Sherlock was now looking speculatively at Ron and opening his mouth, likely to ask the other wizard of his acquaintance to try and take hold of the hammer.
In an utterly ridiculous attempt at subterfuge that fooled 0% of the present company, Harry dropped the hammer to the ground, saying "Oops, can't hold on to it. Must have been a fluke, right?" He followed the lame excuse with a nervous chuckle.
"Riiight..." said Tony Stark, looking up from some hologram displayed above his wrist watch. Then he turned to Sherlock Holmes with a wolfish grin. "My turn."
Harry had a bad feeling about this even before Stark started talking, just as fast and as aloof as Holmes had ever been. "Clearly, you feel a need to disparage our American soldiers in order to make your British troopers look less pathetic. That bit of acting by shy guy over there was sub-par, and let's not even talk about his partner's suit, my tailor would have a heart-attack if I ever showed up in anything this ill-fitted." He and Mycroft Holmes both glanced at Ron with equal mues of distaste while Ron, ears burning an angry red, quietly tried to sink into the floor. Luckily for him, Stark was already moving on to his next target. "But at least these two are clean as far as the internet knows. You, however -" he turned towards the Holmes brothers, "you seem to live in a web of lies so thickly spun that even you won't ever find the way out."
Sherlock Holmes scoffed, which might have been a mistake as Stark now focused exclusively on him. "Don't believe me? Well, why don't you ask your dearest sibling over there about your family? Did he ever tell you that you have not one brother, but two? Although since you obviously think you know all about your older brother's business, I am sure he's already told you about the older brother who looks just like you, hasn't he?" He glanced down at his watch for a moment. "Facial scan is a 100% match. I guess he aged a little better than you did. Surprising, since he has died several dozen times according to the more arcane gossip. Although, maybe lying to your best friend for three years weighs a bit heavier on the soul than stupidly playing the hero?"
Harry saw Sherlock Holmes draw back from the obvious shock he'd felt at Stark's words and regroup for a counter-attack. "Well, if anyone would know, it would have to be you, Stark. After all, I hear you hold the world's leading position in both stupidly playing the hero and lying to your closest friends, isn't that right?"
Harry could see John Watson's spine stiffening up with every word that was spoken, and at these last barbs, the man's tenuous hold on his temper seemed to break irrevocably. "ENOUGH!" he yelled, making several 'heroes' jump with his sudden outburst.
Both Sherlock Holmes and Stark stopped mid-rant and gaped at Watson.
"Enough," the man repeated. "Mister Stark, I'd appreciate it if you didn't wave the most difficult years of my life around like a red flag to a bull. Sherlock, when it comes to stupidly playing the hero, you absolutely have no leg to stand on. Everyone else, why do you let those two go on? Everyone here must know that's never a good idea with either of them. Sherlock I know from personal experience, and frankly I don't need more than a couple of minutes to figure out that Mister Stark can be just as obnoxious. Like two peas in a pod, honestly."
Stark and Holmes stared at each other in horror at the doctor's comparison. Watson, unimpressed by their antics, continued dressing down the entire gathering. "You people are supposed to be some of the finest fighters and thinkers on this planet. You come together to stop a dangerous rogue killer with unclear motivations and an underage hostage, and this is how you spend your time?" He suddenly turned around to the older Holmes. "Mycroft, please tell me that none of this ridiculous nonsense is paid by my taxes?"
Mycroft heaved a deep sigh, one hand rubbing tiredly at the frown lines above his nose.
Stark was smirking widely as he fiddled with his wrist watch, obviously digging out more dirt on the Holmeses. "Would you look at that," he hummed in satisfaction. "It appears that you, Mister Holmes -" he looked at Mycroft, then glanced down at his wrist again... and froze. "What?"
"Tony?" Bruce Banner asked in a worried tone. "What is it?"
"I lost my connection to JARVIS."
Harry had read of the billionaire's AI, it came up in any number of articles about the Avengers. But he didn't quite get why everyone on the Avengers team froze at Stark's words.
"Is the tower under attack?" the Black Widow asked.
"No, I don't think so," Tony said, frowning as he threw out a hand in a dramatic gesture. Harry watched, fascinated, as the famous Iron Man suit assembled around him. There was a tense silence for a few moments while Stark presumably communicated with the tech in his suit. Harry used the chance to observe everyone's reactions. The Avengers looked nervous enough that lesser humans in their place might have been biting their nails; Watson and both Holmes brothers seemed slightly bemused. Then Harry's gaze fell upon the older Holmes's assistant who stood half hidden behind her employer and was busily typing away on her Blackberry. She'd done so the last time they had met, as well, even while introducing herself to him as 'Maria'. Her half-smile had told him the name was fake. Just as the smile she now wore told him that she was very, very pleased with herself.
His eyes widened.
He looked back at Stark just in time to see the man burst from his suit in a right snit. "Who's been messing with my tech?!"
Maria calmly spoke up. "Someone attempted to hack into the Secret Service's database for information on Mister Holmes. So rude. I could not allow that."
Stark gaped at her. "You stopped my AI while interfacing with a fucking Blackberry?!"
She smiled at him innocently.
Stark gaped some more. Then he blinked, slowly coming to some conclusion. His face lit up. "You have to come work for me! I'll pay you double what he does! Triple! Ten times! You beautiful woman, I have to have you on my team!" He walked toward her with open arms and a slightly manic grin on his face.
Maria calmly told him: "Thank you, Mister Stark, but I must decline. I am quite happy with my position serving my Queen and country."
Stark stopped, cocking his head and winking at her. "Are you really sure I cannot tempt you?" Harry choked. Now the man was flirting!
Maria stepped back behind her employer, still typing. "I am very sorry, Mister Stark, but my loyalty cannot be bought. Also, should you move any closer, I will not hesitate to file a harassment suit."
Stark remained standing there looking a bit foolish with his arms slowly sinking down by his sides. "Well alright," he finally said, "but could you at least give me back JARVIS?"
"If you teach him better manners," she said primly.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Stark said, shoulders drooping. His wrist band pinged. Brightening up, he started talking into it fast and near-silently. He broke it off only a few sentences later, looking mighty relieved, yet also like a scolded little kid. Harry wondered if the AI had made some complaints.
Mycroft Holmes cleared his throat and all eyes drifted back to him. "It appears to me that we are at an impasse," he began. "We will need to work together on this case and should, ideally, have a single leader whom all concerned parties recognize. My brother is unwilling to work under the command of anyone on your team, while you are obviously hesitant to trust me or Sherlock to lead." He met all of the Avengers' eyes who looked back at him impassively - with the exception of Barton, who seemed entertained by the whole ordeal and was grinning broadly where he was walking around on his hands in the background. Harry'd heard that the man had grown up with a circus or something, but still... He shook his head and refocused on Mycroft Holmes, curious as to the solution the man would propose.
"We have a man with us, though, who except for his inability to lie convincingly has been deemed worthy of leadership by an impartial artefact."
All eyes were now on Harry, considering, weighing, judging.
His face burned. "Er. What?"
He saw Captain America give a ponderous nod. "Mister Holmes, I believe you are correct."
"No!" Harry barked. "Look, I haven't even finished my schooling yet, I cannot possibly lead Sherlock Holmes and the Avengers and... and..." He was floundering and Ron, the bastard, was just beaming at him like this was the best thing ever.
He cast around frantically for anything, anyone to save him. He caught sight of John Watson who looked just as surprised as he did himself. "Watson!" he blurted out, reaching for straws. "What about him, huh? Mister Stark didn't say anything bad about him either, and he has much more experience with leadership than I do!"
"D.A.," Ron coughed.
"Shut up!" Harry hissed back. "No seriously," he then continued out loud, "Mister Watson has been an army doctor, he's disciplined, hard-working and knows his way around a mundane battlefield. He'll be much more useful to you than I could possibly be."
He didn't see Banner's frown and the Black Widow's speculative look at his mention of "mundane" battlefields. As opposed to what?
What he did see was Watson now looking like he himself felt - deer in headlights was too mild an expression, really.
Stark, however, was already communicating with his wrist watch again - presumably staying far away from the Secret Service's secret servers, this time; but there must be plenty of information about Watson freely available on the internet anyway, surely Stark would find something damning any minute now.
"Watson..." Stark mumbled, "John Watson..." Then his head shot up and he looked straight at Watson for the first time since their arrival. "Wait."
Watson raised an eyebrow.
"John Watson?" Tony asked, "John Hamish Watson? The voice on my left that kept me entertained with stories of his exploits while one of his colleagues sewed me back together after my escape from the Ten Rings? Three-continents Watson?"
Watson's mouth twisted wryly. "The one and only."
Stark beamed. "I vote yes!"