May 2012, SHIELD helicarrier

Sobs gave way to silent weeping before long. By the time the knock came on the door, Peggy had mostly composed herself, although tears still coursed down her cheeks.

She scrambled to her feet and opened the door to find Tony - now out of the armour - with Steve hovering just behind him.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Peggy," Tony whispered, pulling her into his arms.

Peggy clung to him, letting him tuck her under his chin, the way she used to do with him when he was younger. She let herself absorb his comfort for a few minutes, before pulling away and taking the tissue Steve offered her. "Thank you. We should probably get to the bridge. Figure out what's going to happen next."

The bridge was once again a bustle of activity, but was strangely silent. Maria was leaning against the balustrade when they entered, and Peggy made a detour to embrace her briefly, the two women murmuring condolences.

Fury was staring at something in his hands, and Peggy tilted her head curiously, sliding into the chair beside Steve, taking his hand under the table. "Director?"

"These were in Coulson's jacket," he said absently. "Guess he never did get you to sign them."

Phil's beloved Captain America trading cards scattered across the table, stained with blood, and Peggy's grip on Steve's hand tightened.

Phil would never have kept his cards in his jacket, never.

Especially not in a situation like this.

They would have been in his locker, or his office, or even at his apartment.

Not in his jacket.

Bile rose in her throat, recognising manipulation when she saw it, but she kept her mouth shut.

Part of her wanted to know where Nick was going to take it.

The rest of her wasn't sure she wouldn't throw up if she tried to speak.

"We're dead in the air up here," Fury said with a sigh. "Our communications … Banner … Thor …"

Peggy raised an questioning eyebrow.

"Loki tricked him into the cell, we think," Tony said flatly, when she caught his eye, "and then pressed the button."

Peggy winced. If Thor truly was the god of thunder, the fall wouldn't have killed him, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt.

"I got nothing for you," Fury continued heavily. "Lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that coming." He finally met Steve's eyes. "Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even riskier. There was an idea - Stark and Carter know this - called the Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, to see if they could become something more. To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea. In heroes."

Tony jumped to his feet and just about fled the bridge.

"Well," Fury said, "it's an old-fashioned notion."

Peggy gave him a dirty look and gently tugged Steve to his feet. "C'mon," she murmured. "We've got work to do."

"He's playing us, isn't he?" Steve asked, when they were back in her office.

"Like a violin," Peggy said. "Phil wouldn't have kept those cards in his jacket, but dammit to hell if it isn't working."

"We have to stop Loki," Steve said. "We have to."

"I know," Peggy said, running a hand through her hair, her mind racing. "Okay. I'm going to medical, check up on Natasha and Clint. You try and find Tony, and see if you can work out where Loki might be going. If anyone can figure this out, it's him."

Steve caught her arm before she could leave. "Two questions. Firstly, are you alright?"

Peggy smiled weakly. "He was my best friend, Steve. Of course I'm not. But I'll deal with that when this is all over. Second question?"

Steve didn't look convinced, but let her change the subject. "You raised him?"

Peggy's smile grew a little more genuine. "In a matter of speaking. Tony's my godson, so I did spend an awful lot of time around him when he was younger. He's not mine, but he's as good as." She pressed a gentle finger to his lips before he could speak. "And, before you ask, I didn't say anything, because I knew you'd mix like oil and water, and I wanted you to get it out of your systems as soon as possible. Just wasn't banking on the fact that you clearly got bad info."

"I'm sorry," Steve said, unable to meet her eyes.

With a sigh, Peggy tugged his face down to kiss him gently. "I love you. And I love him. In very different ways. You are both very important to me. You don't need to like him, you just need to act civilly around each other. And since Tony can be an utter child sometimes, I need you to be the bigger person here, okay?"

Steve nodded, enfolding him in his arms. "I'll try and fix things."

"Thank you," Peggy murmured into his collar.

"Any other kids you need to tell me about?" He asked lightly.

"Well, you've met Natasha," Peggy said. "Although she's not the same as the boys. Other than that, no, I haven't managed to adopt anyone else."

Steve pressed a kiss to her temple and she heaved a sigh.

Oh, if she could only remain here in his arms for a little while longer.

But time, unfortunately, was of the essence.

When all was said and done, then she could indulge (and she was definitely planning on it), but for now she had work to do.

She took one last deep breath, before pulling away, patting his cheek affectionately. "Back to work, soldier."

Steve saluted her with a grin. "Ma'am, yes ma'am."

"Oh, you are terrible," Peggy said, smiling despite herself. "Go on with you."

No one - not even the armed guards outside - even attempted to keep Natasha from entering Clint's cell in the infirmary, and she sat beside the bed he was strapped to, murmuring words of support and encouragement as he came to, straining against his cuffs, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fought the remnants of Loki's control.

"It's alright, Clint, he's gone … You're free now … Clint, you're gonna be alright …"

"You know that?" Clint finally asked, voice breathless. "Is that what you know? I … I got no window … have to flush him out."

Natasha stood up, averting her gaze from him under the pretence of pouring him some water. Her ankle throbbed still from the fall from the lab, and her ribs ached from Hulk's swipe.

"You need to level out," she said softly. "It's gonna take time."

"You don't understand," Clint whispered. "Have you ever had someone take your brain and play? Pull you out and stuff something else in? You know what it's like to be unmade?"

Natasha stilled, finally meeting his eyes, something inside her aching at his haunted expression. "You know that I do."

Something akin to apology flashed in his eyes, but he didn't acknowledge it and neither did she.

Neither of them liked discussing the Red Room if they could help it.

"Why am I back?" He asked instead. "How'd you get him out?"

"Cognitive recalibration," Natasha answered. "I hit you really hard on the head."

"Thanks," Clint muttered.

She didn't respond, but her hands as they began undoing his restraints were gentle, brushing over his skin when perhaps they didn't need to.

"Tasha … how many agents did I …?"

"Don't," Natasha warned. "Don't do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki, This is monsters and magic and … nothing we were ever trained for."

Clint watched her for a few seconds, clearly weighing up whether asking her again would get an actual answer. "Loki … He get away?"

"Yes," Natasha admitted. "Don't suppose you know where?"

"Didn't need to know," Clint growled. "Didn't ask." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing the water she'd left within his reach. "He's gonna make his play soon though. Today."

"We gotta stop him," Natasha said.

Clint snorted. "Yeah? Who's 'we'?"

"I don't know," Natasha said. "Whoever's left."

Clint thought about it for a few seconds. "Well, if I put an arrow through Loki's eye socket, I'd sleep better, I suppose."

Natasha returned to sit beside him with a smile that betrayed her relief. "Now you sound like you."

"But you don't," Clint said with a frown. "You're a spy, not a soldier. Now you want to wade into a war. Why? What did Loki do to you?"

Natasha faltered, dropping her gaze to her lap. "He didn't. I just …" She trailed off, Loki's threat echoing in her mind.

"I won't kill Barton. Not until I make him kill you. Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you fear. Then he'll wake long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I'll split his skull."

Natasha didn't fear death. She hadn't for a long time.

She didn't even fear torture.

The Red Room had put her through so much that she could undergo a lot without breaking.

But Clint knew her so completely, so intimately, that he could break her without even firing a shot.

However easily she made it look as though she'd been playing Loki the whole time, she very nearly lost that battle.

Worse still, however, was the thought of Clint having to face the realities of betraying her.

She had still raced to reach him when Fury's warning came through - she had to; she had no idea where Peggy was, and they were probably the only people who would try to break him out of it rather than kill him.

Fury hadn't given her the kill order, but she wasn't stupid.

As soon as he was in her sights, she could breathe again. The world tilted back on to its axes and began to turn once more.

Yes, he was under Loki's control, but he was there, and she could do something about it.

When his head had collided with the railing and he had collapsed to his knees, she had hesitated, not pushing her advantage, praying for a sign.

And then he was looking up at her, his eyes still that horrible icy blue (she had lingerie in that colour; it was his favourite, but she was going to burn it), but something in them was flickering.

"Tasha …?"

He was the only person who called her that.

Clint was in love with her.

She wasn't supposed to know that; he had told her several years ago while he thought she was unconscious and recovering from a gunshot wound.

She had never told him she knew because she could never feel the same way.

The Red Room had broken her in ways from which she could never recover.

But whether she was in love with him or not, he was the most important person in her life, and he was hers.

Loki had taken him, and he was going to pay for it.

She couldn't bring herself to tell him any of that.

"Natasha …" Clint murmured, his arm brushing against hers.

"I've been compromised," Natasha said softly, and his eyes filled with such understanding she thought she might as well have told him the truth, because he was clearly hearing it anyway. "I've got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out."

Footsteps slowed outside, and both agents tensed, readying themselves for a fight, but when the door slid back, it was Peggy who stepped in, relief crossing her face when she laid eyes on them.

"How are you doing?" She asked, her hands darting through the sign language at the same time.

"I'm fine," Clint said with false bravado. "And I can still hear. They're working."

Peggy didn't look convinced, but sat down on Clint's other side, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "I'm glad you're back, sweetheart."

Clint didn't respond, laying his head on her shoulder.

"If and when we find Thor and Banner, you might want to read them in," Natasha said. "You just told them you raised Tony, and you look at least ten years younger than him."

"They know I'm Lady Liberty," Peggy said. "I took the mask off on the bridge. And Banner must have realised that she's been around longer than it looks like I have. But you're right. I'll tell them when I have a few minutes to explain. Quite enough lies around here to be getting on with."

"Lies?" Clint asked, raising his head.

"Turns out they wanted the Tesseract to build an arsenal, not for clean energy," Peggy said. "I knew there was something wrong; I should have fought them."

"It's not your fault," Clint said.

Peggy sighed. "Nat, have you told him?"

"Told me what?" Clint asked immediately. "Who did I kill?"

"No one," Peggy answered. "None of your shots hit their target, which is both a relief and very concerning. I'm going to need you to re-qualify on the range, Hawkeye."

Clint didn't smile, but Natasha felt him relax a little. "But someone's dead. Who? How?"

Peggy rested his hand on his. "Loki killed Agent Coulson."

Clint's breathing hitched, but he made no other sign that he'd heard her. Peggy said nothing more, stroking the back of his hand gently, until he stood abruptly. "Bathroom," he muttered, disappearing through the other door.

Peggy's hand fell instead on Natasha's knee, preventing her automatically following him. "Let him be," she murmured.

Natasha nodded, scooting along the cot to close the distance between them, and Peggy understood her without without words, tucking the younger woman under her arm, stroking her hair gently.

They stayed like that for several minutes, Peggy humming a Russian lullaby under her breath, and Natasha closed her eyes taking a few moments out of the chaos to grieve for one of the few people who had accepted her immediately.

"His cards are covered in blood," Peggy said eventually.

Natasha snorted. "Stupid move. Even Stark must realise we're being played."

"Yeah, but like I said to Steve, it's working," Peggy said with a scowl.

"It's unnecessary," Natasha said, sitting up. "Loki needs to be stopped."

The door slid open again without ceremony, and Steve stepped in, in full uniform. "Time to go."

"Go where?" Peggy asked.

"I'll tell you on the way," Steve answered. "Can either of you fly one of those jets?"

"I can," Clint said, stepping out of the bathroom.

Steve hesitated just long enough to gauge Peggy and Natasha's agreement. "You got a suit?"

Clint nodded, his face determined.

"Then suit up."