Alright, buckle up, y'all - we are diving right into the next thing! Apologies in advance for any chunks of dialogue that feel regurgitated - trying to get some of the discourse out of the way early on.
Chapter Nine
2016 - New York City
Temperance descended the steps of the Stark Enterprises jet that had just landed on the private tarmac at JFK, with Happy Hogan hot on her heels.
"We are going to be late," Happy announced, gesturing toward the black car that they'd be taking from the airport to the Avengers facility in upstate New York.
"He's the one who wants to meet with us - he'll wait." Temp said, sliding into the backseat when Happy opened the door for her. He got behind the wheel and rolled down the partition between the front and back seats so they could continue talking while he drove. Happy was generally frazzled these days. Splitting his time between Tony, Pepper, and Temperance - who were always heading in different directions - was more than a full time job. Tony had, of course, hired more people on board in the last few years to help out, but Happy was adamant about being involved with everything, even when it meant stretching himself too thin.
"Hap, why don't we get someone else to drive? You barely got any sleep on the jet." Temperance said, catching his eyes in the rear view mirror.
"There's no time - besides, I'm fine." Happy insisted. Temp sighed.
"Alright, well, let's at least pull through a drive-through." She suggested.
Happy had spent the last few days in Lagos with her, following her around to her meetings, helping her with everything, arranging her security, and just generally keeping her company. Temperance had been back and forth between New York and Sokovia quite a bit since Ultron, and with the recent incident in Nigeria, Lagos had been added to her itinerary. Happy, noticing that she was growing weary under the stress of all this travel, had begun arranging to go with her whenever he could.
She's still just a kid, he'd reminded Tony. Someone's gotta watch out for her.
But Temperance Ward wasn't a kid anymore - not so much, anyway. The twenty-six-year-old, having been through two large-scale, earth-threatening disasters in less than five years, felt anything but young. The moment New York had truly begun to get back on their feet, the disaster in D.C. had thrown a wrench in things, and then Sokovia had fallen and the world was in need of more humanitarian efforts than ever.
"What do you think it's about?" Happy asked, noticing her far-off gaze in the rear view mirror. "The meeting?"
"I don't know," Temperance answered honestly. She hoped that the Avengers weren't being enlisted for another impending worldwide disaster. When S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen, the team had come back together to retrieve Loki's scepter, which had ultimately led them to the discovery of the Maximoff twins and the creation of Ultron. Because robots had no organic minds, emotions, or will to play with, she had simply relied on her strength, speed, and agility in the Battle of Sokovia. Many of them had chosen to stick together after Ultron and continued to complete missions under Steve's leadership, but Temperance had recused herself from most of that activity. Steve would've liked to have her at the Avengers compound, she knew, but he hadn't pushed the matter. Generally, when she got the call, it was because something had gone wrong. This had been the case three days ago in Lagos.
"She hasn't said a word," Steve murmured, leading Temperance to the doorway of the room in the American embassy where Wanda had been laying low. Temperance, who had been helping the others at the site of the accident to put out the flames, was dirty from head to toe and bone-weary with exhaustion. The building continued to reignite every time the wind shifted, and Temperance had called in a team of agents from Damage Control to help coordinate the emergency response and help identify the dead.
"I'll talk to her," Temperance whispered, her chest aching as she watched the miserable woman sit doubled-over in her chair with her head in her hands. She couldn't imagine how she must feel - it was Temperance's worst fear, after all. Steve excused himself to give them some privacy, and Temperance took a seat next to Wanda. She didn't say anything for a long moment.
"Is it alright if I hold you?" She asked quietly. Wanda didn't respond, didn't even look up. Just when Temperance thought she wouldn't, the redhead nodded, her shoulders shaking as a sob escaped. Temp scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and rubbing soothing circles on the girl's back.
"I know," she whispered. She wanted to say it was okay, but she knew it wasn't true and wasn't what Wanda wanted to hear.
"It happened so fast," Wanda gasped, her face still buried in her hands. Temperance leaned in close, resting her head against Wanda's. She couldn't see her friend's face through the curtains of their hair, but she could imagine what it looked like. Temp had been there when Wanda lost her brother - she had recognized the grief on Wanda's face then, and she recognized it now in the tense line of her shoulders.
"I know," Temp repeated, squeezing her tighter.
Later, when Steve appeared again in the doorway, Temperance nodded for him to join them.
"You need to get her back to New York. Tonight." She told him.
"No, I have to stay," Wanda insisted, rubbing at the tear tracks on her face. "I have to help."
"We need to get you out of here now in case the Nigerian government decides to make you stay." She told her friend. Steve frowned.
"Would they do that?" He asked, crossing his arms.
"They're going to want answers," Temp said, "And I'd rather we give them with Wanda at a safe distance. She's here as a favor right now, but the embassy doesn't have the power to protect her if things go south," she explained, reminding him that Wanda wasn't an American citizen. Temp and Steve finished the conversation with their eyes. He clearly didn't like the idea of leaving, either, but Wanda had gotten in this situation to protect him, and now he needed to protect her. I'll handle it, Temp's eyes said.
"She's right, Wanda. Let's get you to the jet." He caved, putting a hand on the distraught girl's shoulder.
"Welcome back, kid," Tony said when she climbed out of the back seat of the car. "You look like hell." She was surprised to see him waiting outside to intercept her, and she could tell immediately that something was off with him.
"What's wrong?" She asked, ignoring the insult as they walked inside together. Happy had sped most of the way there, and they had actually managed to arrive a few minutes early.
"You'll find out soon enough," He said, putting a hand on her back and ushering her toward the team room, "Everybody's in here."
Temperance entered the room to find that everyone was already gathered around the table.
"There's our girl," Rhodey greeted congenially, causing Temperance to smile. Rhodey had always liked her, and the feeling was mutual - something about him made him a particularly comforting presence to her, and she relaxed a little bit, knowing he was here for whatever they were about to discuss.
Rhodey, Nat, and Steve sat on one side of the table, and Vision, Wanda, and Sam on the other. Tony moved to sit in the corner, away from the table, and Temperance eyed him quizzically before taking a seat next to Sam, across from Steve.
"Hello, Temperance," Vision greeted formally. Temp returned it with a small wave and a nod. She had just seen Steve, Wanda, Sam, and Nat in Lagos, though there hadn't been ample time to catch up, of course. Nat had stayed in Lagos with her an extra day or two to help out, but had eventually been called away on other business. Temperance leaned forward to make eye contact with Wanda, who mustered a close-lipped smile. She wished she could sit next to her, but banished the thought in favor of focusing on the matter at hand.
"So, are you going to tell us what this is about, or do we have to guess?" Nat asked Tony. Temp turned to look at him. He didn't respond, but glanced toward the doorway. Everyone shifted to see that Thaddeus Ross, the Secretary of State, had joined them. Temp straightened in her chair and sent another wary glance at Tony. This couldn't be good. Her eyebrows furrowed with silent indignation at being kept out of the loop.
"Thank you all for meeting with me today," Ross said, coming to stand at the head of the table. Steve exchanged a look with Temperance across the table that clearly said 'like we had any choice.' Ross sighed, before clasping his hands in front of him and swinging as if he were holding a golf club. "Five years ago, I dropped right in the middle of my backswing. Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after thirteen hours of surgery and a triple bypass, I found something thirty years in the army never taught me."
Temp's eyes met Nat's next, and she looked just as annoyed with the metaphor as Temp was. No matter how much Temperance worked in negotiations and public policy, she would never get used to the patronizing way that men with political power spoke to her.
"Perspective." Ross continued, revealing the one thing his heart attack had taught him. Temperance crossed her arms and idly wondered if he'd practiced this speech on the way over from D.C. "The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives...but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word vigilantes."
Temperance's gaze lowered to the table. She wasn't surprised by the subject of this discussion - she had known for a while that it would have to come eventually - but somehow, she still wasn't ready for it.
"And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?" Nat asked, adopting the same patronizing tone.
"How about dangerous?" Ross answered unflinchingly, "what would you call a group of US-based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose, and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?"
The tension in the room rose to a peak, and there was a long silence as everyone considered his words. Temperance felt a prickle of shame at the words. What he said was true - she knew this better than anyone, as the person who had spent the last few days scraping and pleading with the Nigerian government to keep in good standing with them. They hadn't known the Avengers were operating in Lagos - hadn't agreed to accept the collateral risk involved with the team's agenda. Temperance had worn herself out trying to prove to them that the risk to Lagos would've been greater had the Avengers not acted.
As much as she disliked him, Temperance understood the place Ross was coming from. The U.S. couldn't be expected to answer for the Avengers' actions. Nobody could be expected to, which meant that nobody was responsible. And if Temperance had learned one thing in her time working with damage control, it was that when the dust cleared, people always wanted to know who would be held responsible. Ross stepped aside and a map appeared on the screen. Temperance didn't have to look twice to recognize the pinpoints on it.
"New York," Ross said as the map zoomed in and began showing footage from the Battle of New York. Hulk smashed into buildings, soldiers fired machine guns, people ducked and ran, screaming. The hair on the back of Temperance's neck stood up as she watched one of the giant leviathans soar across the camera shot. Watching it brought thoughts of her father flooding in, and she tried to push them away, wanting to remain emotionally neutral for this conversation. She glanced at Tony in the corner to see that he was already watching her somberly.
"Washington D.C." Ross continued, drawing Temperance's eyes back to the screen. A piece of the helicarrier hit the ground, and people scattered away from the collision, terrified. D.C. had been a difficult one. Temperance hadn't been involved in the conflict, and when she was called in to help mediate the disaster relief, there was no team. Damage Control, who she'd been working alongside to recover New York, had been run by S.H.I.E.L.D., and S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer existed. She and Nat had scrambled to assemble a small team of trustworthy former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to continue doing the important work, and that was the year that Temperance had reluctantly become the head of Damage Control. The American government had been willing, at the time, to join with Stark Enterprises to help make sure the venture succeeded and provide her with more people.
"Sokovia." Ross said, and Temperance looked away. She didn't need to see this one. The images had been burned in her brain. She could still remember feeling the city rise under her feet, thinking with horror about how many would die, how many would be missing, how many would be homeless.
"Lagos." Ross said finally. Temperance looked back up to see the images playing on the screen, ending on a close-up of a woman lying dead in the rubble. She saw Wanda look away sharply, jarred by the sight.
"Okay, that's enough," Steve told Ross. The images disappeared from the screen.
"For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate." Ross told them. Steve straightened, clearly bothered by the news. Temperance had to (begrudgingly) admire Ross at least a little bit for volunteering to be the messenger on this one. "But I think we have a solution."
The aid who had slipped into the room midway through Ross's lecture handed him a thick manuscript, and Ross laid it on the table, notably passing it straight to Wanda. "The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries, it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary."
117 countries. A U.N. panel. Temperance felt blindsided by this information, but tried not to show it, even though Ross was staring right at her as he said it. The government had always sought to discuss concerns related to the Avengers with her, and she had been a goodwill ambassador for the U.N. for three years now. This shouldn't be the first time she was hearing of the Sokovia Accords.
"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we've done that." Steve said.
"Tell me, Captain. Do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?" Ross asked, trying to drive his point home. "If I misplaced a couple of 30-ton nukes, you can bet there would be consequences."
"Well, they're not Nukes, they're people. And they're not misplaced," Temperance argued. She had been worried sick about them ever since they disappeared, and she didn't appreciate that he talked about them like objects - especially weapons. Thor had become one of her closest friends on the team during his visits to Earth after the Battle of New York and during the Ultron conflict. He wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was to protect something or someone he cared about. The same went for Bruce, though she would concede that Hulk was less ruly. Still, she had managed to control him well enough - it was the only way she would use her ability, and only with Bruce's express permission. She tried not to grab the packet too eagerly when it was finally passed to her and began flipping through it.
"Compromise," Ross continued, "Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground."
"So, there are contingencies," Rhodey jumped in, gesturing toward the packet Temp was holding. Ross could have at least come with enough copies for everyone, Temperance thought wryly, ignoring Rhodey's request.
"Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the accords. Talk it over."
Three days? That was barely enough time to even read the accords. They were being ambushed and hog-tied, and Temperance knew the result would not be good. Steve and Sam were already fidgeting in their seats. Her stomach sank.
"And if we come to a decision that you don't like?" Nat asked as Ross and his aid exited.
"Then you retire." Ross answered. He stopped as he passed by Temperance. "We appreciate everything you've done to help mediate this problem in the past," He told her, lowering his voice, "But you can understand why the U.N. couldn't have someone of your ability involved in this discussion."
It was like someone had punched her in the gut and knocked the wind out of her. She wasn't naive - she knew that people didn't trust her. All of the Avengers had been notoriously tight-lipped about Siren ever since the rumors broke after the Battle of New York. Nobody had ever officially confirmed to the media or the government that she had influence, but it didn't matter. The world believed it anyway.
The tension in the room spiked at Ross's last revelation, and Steve sat forward in his chair, prepared to jump to her defense, but Temperance shook her head discreetly, imploring him not to. Ross left the room, and they all exchanged wary looks. They had a decision to make.
"Secretary Ross has a congressional medal of honor," Rhodey argued, pointing an accusing finger at Sam, "That's one more than you have."
Temperance sat on the couch next to Nat. She had pulled her legs up into the seat and crossed them to make herself comfortable - she was going to be reading for a while. She flipped through the fourth page of the accords as Sam and Rhodey bickered in the background. Wanda, Vision, Tony, and Steve were also seated around the coffee table, thinking.
"You really wanna trust that guy, after the way he treated Temp?" Sam retorted, causing Rhodey to snort.
"This isn't about Ross, guys," Temp reminded them without looking up from the page. "It's about the accords."
"Okay, so let's say we agree to this thing. How long before they lojack us like a bunch of common criminals?" Sam argued. The two of them continued to bicker about it, and Temp tried to tune them out so that she wasn't reading the same sentence five times over.
"I have an equation," Vision spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. ""In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And, during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate."
"You're saying it's our fault?" Steve asked, arms crossed.
"I'm saying there may be causality," Vision explained, "Our very strength invites challenge.
Challenge incites conflict. Conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand."
"Boom," Rhodey said, earning an eye-roll from Sam.
"What do you think, Temperance?" Wanda asked quietly. Temperance glanced up to see the girl watching her.
"I think we need to know what's in this." Temperance said simply, raising the packet in her hand for emphasis before burying her nose in it again.
"Tony," Nat cut in, looking to the man who was half-laying in his chair with a hand thrown over his eyes. "You're being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal."
"That's 'cause he's already made up his mind." Steve said. Temperance glanced up at this, her eyebrows furrowing. It was pretty obvious to her that Steve had made up his mind before Ross had even finished explaining the accords.
"Boy, you know me so well." Tony quipped, getting up and walking over the threshold to the kitchen. "Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache. That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort."
Temp paused from her reading to watch him fill a glass of water. She knew him well enough to know that it certainly wasn't just a headache.
"Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?" He snapped, coming to lean against the kitchen island. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. An image of a young man projected from it, and everyone looked at it intently.
"Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way," Tony continued, "A great kid. A computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor-level gig with Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service."
Temperance chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing where this story was leading.
"Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where? Sokovia." Tony revealed. The atmosphere in the room seemed to drop with the weight of everyone's guilt.
"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know, because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass." He said, popping an ibuprofen and washing it down with a swig of water. He came back to stand in front of them. "There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check. Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations - if we're boundary-less - we're no better than the bad guys."
Temperance found herself nodding and could feel the heat of Steve's stare on her as she did.
"Tony," He said, turning to him, "when someone dies on your watch, you don't give up."
"Who says we're giving up?" Tony retorted.
"We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions."
Tony's arms uncrossed, and he spread them wide. "You're not taking responsibility for your actions. You know who takes responsibility for your actions?" He ranted, pointing a finger in Temperance's direction. Temp sighed. "Her. She does."
Some of them glanced in her direction, and the others looked at the floor, all of them looking a bit guilty. Tony, still worked up, continued, "Do you know what has to be done when an entire city gets wiped off the map? Where to even begin? How to help? Because she does. She had to know. At 25 years old, she had to know that. She's been following behind you, cleaning up your messes, for four years now."
"I know, and she chose that role," Steve argued. "She didn't have to do that,"
"Would it make more sense if I left, since you're all talking about me like I'm not in the room?" Temperance cut in.
"Steve, this is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council. It's not S.H.I.E.L.D. It's not HYDRA," Rhodey said, trying to bring the discussion back on track.
"No, but it's run by people with agendas, and agendas change." Steve replied.
"That's good." Tony said, "That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing."
"Tony, you chose to do that." Steve reminded him.
"Because it was the right thing." Temperance retorted. She was quickly growing tired of the deflection of the you chose argument. Temperance had chosen to take over Damage Control, yes, but only because it had to be done. In that sense, it wasn't much of a choice at all.
"If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go? What if there's somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us?" Steve continued. He turned to appeal to Temperance, "Temp, what if they make you use your influence? You choose every day not to abuse that power. Are you really willing to sign over your right to make that decision?"
"If that happens, then I'll retire," Temperance said. He was making a valid point, but it wasn't a dealbreaker for her. "But I'll still have a choice."
"That's not a choice, it's an ultimatum." Sam argued, coming up to stand behind Steve. "You're really gonna go against your own best interest? Just to support Stark?"
Something in Temp's expression darkened, and everyone in the room could sense the atmosphere change. She looked up at Sam from her place on the couch, "Compressive asphyxia."
Nobody responded, waiting for her to continue. "It's when the lungs can't expand because there's too much pressure on the torso. It's a form of suffocation."
Still, no one spoke, and even the air felt completely still.
"That's how my Dad died," She continued firmly, keeping unwavering eye contact with Sam. "He didn't die from the impact. He was alive, under the rubble, for a few minutes at least, probably wondering what had the sheer force to knock down one of the stablest architectures in New York City. And if you think I don't also wonder, every single day, what made that building fall, then you don't understand what we're talking about at all."
Nat placed a hand on Temp's knee, and Sam swallowed heavily; his eyes had turned apologetic. "So no, I'm not just supporting Tony, and no, I'm not planning on making the decision based on my own best interest."
There was an uncomfortable silence, and they all just sat in it for a few moments.
"If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later," Tony spoke up finally. "That's the fact. That won't be pretty."
"You're saying they'll come for me," Wanda added morosely.
"We would protect you," Vision assured her. Nat leaned forward, finally ready to weigh in after hearing everyone's thoughts.
"Maybe Tony's right," She said. "If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off…"
Steve was noticeably troubled by the input. He had wanted Temp and Nat to side with him on this - he knew Temp wasn't a sure thing, after all the things she'd dealt with in Damage Control and with her father, but he had at least expected to have Nat as an ally.
"Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?" Sam asked, having recovered from his misstep with Temperance.
"I'm just reading the terrain," Nat replied. "We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back."
"Focus up. I'm sorry, did I just mishear you, or did you agree with me?" Tony asked, putting a finger behind his ear. The two of them bickered back and forth for a minute until Steve cut them off by abruptly standing to his feet.
"I have to go," he mumbled, sulking as he walked out. They all exchanged looks, unsure where exactly they had landed. They sat quietly for a moment before beginning to disperse. Everyone filed out except for Tony, Temp, and Nat; Tony exchanged a glance with Nat before sitting down in the chair Steve had been occupying.
"Are you okay?" Nat asked quietly, watching Temp, who still sat rooted to the couch with the accords in her lap. Temp nodded.
"I'm fine. I just have a lot of reading to do before Vienna."
"Temp, you don't have to go." Tony told her.
"I want to." Temperance insisted. "The U.N. isn't getting rid of me that easily."
Tony smiled softly at that.
"I'll go with you," Nat said, placing a hand on her shoulder before getting up. She excused herself and Tony moved to sit in the seat next to Temperance on the couch.
"I'm sorry you didn't know sooner," He told her. Temp was quiet for what felt like a long time before sighing and looking up at him.
"It's okay." She said. "What happened at MIT?"
Tony wasn't prepared for the question, and sighed wearily, before settling into the back of the couch and telling her about his harrowing confrontation with Charles Spencer's mother.