Chapter 22.

Steve whispered into his communicator, "Hold."

A response came from Clint, almost too quiet to hear, "I see him coming around the east side, banking. It looks like there are ten functional suits left – or he built new ones. Oh. Okay, make that twenty. Twenty-six. God, where did he get the metal for those?"

"Focus," Steve said.

"Final count is thirty. Bruce, prepare to activate the field in five… four… three…"

One of the houses exploded.

Steve ripped his communicator out, wincing, as an awful screeching sound drilled through him. He jumped to his feet. Nat was already in the street, rushing the fireball.

Tony was there, surging toward them, thirty suits trailing him.

Steve tapped his ear, and then searched fruitlessly for the communicator.

"Guess we'll do it the old-fashioned way," Steve said to himself. "Avengers-"

And then Tony hit him.

His shield absorbed and rebounded the impact, throwing both of them backward. Steve went halfway through a wall and Tony skidded onto the concrete, throwing up sparks. His suits descended, the majority spreading out, going straight for every nook the team was hidden in. Five of them joined his fight with Steve.

"Not gonna take me one-on-one?" Steve asked.

"You were holding back last time. I was maybe a little bit hasty." Tony walked toward him, shaking out his arm. "New suit. What do you think?"

"I think you were productive these past three days."

"Fair assessment. You ready for round three, Rogers?"

Steve was on his feet, shield at the ready, "Third time's a charm. I'm not holding back."

"Neither am I."

Tony charged, his suits flanking him.

Steve faked a direct shield throw, slamming it into the road instead and sending it ricocheting upward into Tony's chest. Steve caught it as they met, delivering a powerful uppercut that knocked Tony off of his feet.

They crashed through the streets, leveling homes, striking fire hydrants, tearing deep ruts in the grass. The empty suits circled them, doing nothing, until Steve kicked Tony twenty feet away. And then they were on him. Blasts, beams, metal fists. It was all he could do to keep up with them.

He left himself exposed to slam his shield through the midsection of a suit, shattering it, and then hit his knees as a blast burned white hot through his lower back.

It went on and on.

Tony shot out the support beams of a house and dropped the whole building on Steve – and then set it on fire –, and Steve hit him so hard that he went through the floor into the basement. He bisected another suit with his shield, but as it flew backward it took the shield with it.

Steve knew it was over. He was exhausted, running low on steam, his back fried, his shield out of reach – and he was facing Iron Man and three extra suits.

Tony got the upper hand, literally, when he slammed an electrified palm down on Steve's neck.

"Learned that from Hydra," Tony said, shocking him again.

It rocketed through him, a sensation like being flayed alive.

Tony punched him. "How does it feel? Kind of like having your friends betray you, turn on you? Sucks, doesn't it?"

"You're being influenced by-" Steve ground out.

Tony hit him again, and again, flattening him. "Liar!"

"I don't lie," Steve said.

Tony hit his knees, grabbing Steve by the face and slamming his head into the pavement.

Steve saw stars.

"You always thought you were better than me. Even my dad did." Tony put armed his laser, leveled it at Steve's face, "I'd like to see you heal from this."

A gun cocked.

Nat fired on them, the bullet exploding before it made it to Tony. It blew him off of Steve. She fired again. Tony deflected it and it nailed Steve in the leg instead.

"Get away from him," Nat ordered, gun level with Tony's face.

Tony was completely focused on Steve. "Or what? You gonna shoot him again?" He had his palm out, pointed at Steve, but he didn't fire.

"Nat…" Steve warned. "Tony, come on. You can't win this fight."

His team was assembling. The empty suits lay all over the place, lights out.

Tony glared down at him for a split second longer, and then kicked off, attempting another escape.

The Hulk appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Tony by the leg, slamming him down, knocking him out in one definitive blow.

Steve let his head fall back onto the pavement, clapping his hand over the fresh hole in his leg.

"Is Clint okay?" he asked.

Thor leaned over him, grimacing, "He fared better than you, I would say."

The neighborhood was in ruins.

Houses on fire. Lawns destroyed. Concrete broken. Pipes exposed. Powerlines knocked over.

"The EMP worked," Natasha said, appearing at his side as he got to his feet. She slipped under his arm, supporting him. She had been doing that a lot lately. "And sorry for shooting you."

Steve felt the bullet shifting around in his thigh. "Gonna need you to take that out."

Clint limped from behind a nearby house, his right arm in a makeshift sling. "I'm fine, by the way, everybody. But look at this, this is fun." He kicked a rake handle at one of the disabled suits and the handle exploded on contact. "They're protected by a high tech forcefield. Figured that out the hard way."

Steve ran a hand delicately over his back, wincing. His suit had been burned away by the blast, parts of it fusing with his skin. It would heal by tomorrow if he got the fabric out – until then, it was going to feel like hugging a cactus.

He said, "We need to talk to Tony, snap him out of this. He can shut them down."

"Hopefully before the EMP wears off," Bruce added.

Steve looked down at his friend, lying unconscious. His facemask was open, his expression one of unrest. The Hulk had rocked his world.

"Any chance you're in there, Jarvis?"

His voice came out like it was on speakerphone, "Hello, Captain Rogers."

"Can you open that suit for us?"

The joints popped and the suit spread open, exposing the man inside. The Hulk was pacing nearby, and when he saw Tony, he slammed his fist into the ground.

Steve stepped between them, "Whoa, easy. We won the fight."

The Hulk didn't like that. He roared, ran a few circles in the road trying to upheave the pavement, and then smashed through the nearest house. It fell like it was made of straw.

Nat winced, "They probably have insurance."

Thor said, "Do you smell something burning?"

Steve retrieved his shield. "That would be my skin."

"Ahh." Thor dragged Tony out of his suit and threw him over his shoulder, plodding up the road to their base of operations. He talked to him along the way. "When you snap out of this, Stark, you must tell me what the Whisperer looked like. I have always been curious."

Clint limped behind him, "Hey, you see, this is where I could've used those arrows from Asgard."

Rhodes trailed them, silent, thoughtful. His expression was grim.

Steve and Natasha made up the back of the line.

"We can get that bullet out while Tony naps," she said. "And maybe I can peel your suit out of your back. A little iffy on that one."

"Getting squeamish on me?" Steve said.

She glanced at him, about to say something, but she stopped herself.

Instead, she smiled.

And he smiled.