Chapter 18
Steve found Tony Stark standing at the edge of the gaping round hole where the glass cage for the Hulk had been, staring moodily down into the darkened shaft below.
The iris at the bottom had been sealed off again, blocking the wind, but it was hard not to think about what must have happened when Loki had trapped Thor and then dropped him out of the helicarrier. Thor could fly with his hammer, of course, and maybe his weapon was powerful enough to break him out of the cage before he hit the ground, but then again, maybe not. The cage had been built to withstand the Hulk, and they already knew the hammer couldn't break vibranium. What had the cage been built out of? Something just as strong?
Steve knew he was only thinking about Thor to stop himself from thinking about Coulson. At least there was still hope for Thor. But he'd vowed back in Stuttgart not to let a single person die at Loki's hands, and already he'd failed. Phil Coulson was dead. Steve had known him only briefly, but his quiet competence and his consideration toward Steve, even his child-like enthusiasm for all things Captain America, had quickly left an impression.
Steve permitted the familiar emotions of anger, regret and guilt to wash over him: everything he'd felt the day he'd lost Bucky. He knew now that eventually the pain of this failure would dull, although it would never really leave him. It never did. But he could live with that. He'd learned to.
He didn't envy Fury his task of informing Coulson's next of kin.
"Was he married?" Steve asked Stark.
"No," Stark said. He was uncharacteristically quiet, showing no trace of his earlier irreverence. "There was a... cellist, I think."
Stark must have known Coulson better than he did. Steve had never had the chance to learn anything personal about the man. "I'm sorry," he said. "He seemed like a good man."
"He was an idiot," Stark said bluntly.
Steve frowned. "Why? For believing?"
"For taking on Loki alone," Stark said matter-of-factly, backing away from the edge of the shaft. Behind him, a blackened hole gaped in the bulkhead: the evidence left behind by Coulson's last, failed attempt to destroy Loki.
"He was doing his job," Steve pointed out.
"He was out of his league," Stark shot back. "He should have waited. He should have..." He gestured wordlessly, unsure how to finish the sentence. Steve knew all too well where his mind was. How long had he sat in that bombed-out bar in London, trying to work out what he should have done differently to save Bucky?
"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony," he said, walking toward him.
"Right," Stark said. "I've heard that before." The sarcasm had popped out again. Steve was starting to realize that it was more than just Stark's style of humor; it was his way of trying to cover up his own pain, pain he clearly hadn't been prepared for. And he wondered: How was it possible Stark had never faced a loss like this before? He had been Iron Man for every bit as long as Steve had been Captain America.
Then he realized: Stark had never been part of a communal fight. His determination to go it alone meant that he didn't know the comforts — or the risks — of having a team behind him.
"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" Steve asked.
Stark's eyes flashed with sudden anger. "We are not soldiers!" he said tightly. He was trembling slightly as he said it, his eyes glistening, and Steve realized he had inadvertently struck a nerve. But if Stark didn't think of himself as a soldier, what did he think he was?
Stark took a deep breath, and visibly controlled himself. "I'm not marching to Fury's fife," he said flatly.
"Neither am I," Steve quickly agreed. "He's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does." He decided to turn the conversation toward his own preferred method of dealing with pain: going back to work. "Right now we gotta put that behind us and get this done. Now, Loki needs a power source. If we can put together a list-"
Stark had turned to stare at the bloodstain on the wall. "He made it personal," he said suddenly, interrupting Steve.
"That's not the point," Steve said, determined to move the conversation past their anger so they could settle on a course of action.
"That is the point," Stark insisted. "That's Loki's point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?"
"To tear us apart."
"Yeah, divide and conquer is great, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right?" Stark had suddenly focused up, his dark eyes intense. "That's what he wants. He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience."
"Right," Steve agreed. "I caught his act in Stuttgart."
"Yeah. That's just previews, this is... this is opening night." Stark paced across the room, deep in concentration. "And Loki, he's a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered..."
He paused, and Steve raised his eyebrows. Boy, did that sound familiar.
Stark said something vulgar and, suddenly furious, strode toward the exit.
"Your tower?" Steve asked, following him with all speed.
Stark had whipped out his cell phone and was already dialing. "Pepper?" he said the moment the call connected. "Where are you? Are you still in D.C.?" There was a short pause. "Tell the pilot to turn the plane around. Yes, you heard me. Right now. Don't go back to New York, whatever you do. Call Happy, have him evacuate the tower. The entire building." He paused. "No time to explain. I have to go kick someone's-"
He swore again before hanging up, and Steve valiantly resisted the urge to rebuke him for using language like that in front of a woman. A few mild hells and damns in the midst of a battle were one thing — he knew for himself the relief it could be to cut loose a little bit when he was in the middle of a situation, and Peggy had never seemed to mind when he and the other Howling Commandos did — but Stark seemed to be fond of far more vulgar phrases that were better left out of mixed company.
Steve knew better than to be a scold, though, so he wisely kept his mouth shut, and then wondered why Stark was giving him a weird look, like Steve was the one who had just said something profane, when he hadn't said anything at all.
"If Loki so much as scratches my new reactor..." Stark fumed to himself, barging into the workshop where his Iron Man armor lay in pieces on a table, still banged-up from his clash with the malfunctioning helicarrier engine.
"At the risk of sounding like a broken record," Steve said, following in hot on his heels, "we need a plan. Whatever we do, the two of us should do it together."
"I'm going straight home," Stark said, grabbing a tool and banging a dent out of the chest plate. "I can get there the quickest." He paused a second, and suddenly admitted: "Look, Rogers, I don't play well with others. Ask anyone. Trust me, it's better this way."
"I can work with that," Steve said calmly. "Then you'll be our scout. All you have to do is keep in touch, let me know what you find out when you get there. I'll follow you in a Quinjet, and that way I'll be right there ready to back you up if you need me."
Stark glanced at him in surprise. "You know how to fly a plane?"
"I know how to crash one."
Stark suddenly laughed, shooting Steve a look that was both surprised and amused.
"I'll get a pilot to take me," Steve clarified, and he already knew who he wanted to ask. He had a pretty good idea Romanoff would be ready to take this leap with him, because it was personal for her, too; she clearly had more than a professional concern for Clint Barton, and she'd be ready to pay Loki back for what he'd done. He hoped she wouldn't have a problem with his decision not to check with Fury before going. The trust was gone; Fury was going to have to earn it back.
"What are we going to do about that scepter?" Steve continued. "If Loki tries to use it on you..."
"Don't worry about that," Stark said, tapping the glowing circle in his chest, making a hollow metallic sound. "I have a tin heart. Hey, you got that reference, right?" He slapped Steve's shoulder lightly with the back of his hand.
"I don't think he needs to touch it to your chest to affect you," Steve said seriously. "Just being in the same room with the thing seems to be enough." He couldn't deny feeling a lingering anger that Loki had managed to trigger another of his traumatic episodes on the way back from Stuttgart, but in a way, it was a relief, too. He would have had everything under control if not for Loki's interference. It meant that he was ready for combat duty after all.
"Yeah, I caught that," Stark said matter-of-factly. "He had us all fighting like a bunch of monkeys in a zoo back in the lab. It's a miracle no one started flinging excrement." He put down the chest plate and picked up the dented helmet. "I don't think that little trick of his is going to work so well now that we're on to it."
Steve hesitated, embarrassed, and admitted, "I'm sorry about all that, Stark. I'm... not exactly in the habit of challenging people to duels."
"Well, it's a good thing, because I would have kicked your-" Stark paused, catching Steve's eye, and then finished lamely, "-your butt." He scrunched up his face at Steve. "Wow, does it really bother you that much? A little swearing?"
"I didn't say it bothered me," Steve said quickly.
"Your face says it all, Rogers." Stark clamped the helmet in a vise and picked up a welding tool. "What are we going to do with Banner when he shows up?"
Steve was momentarily heartened by the sound of "we," but then he frowned. "Banner? Dr. Banner's not coming back."
"Yes he is," Stark said.
"You heard what he said back there," Steve said. "He called us a freak show. He couldn't wait to get away from us. Wherever he is, even if he manages to get control back from 'the other guy,' he's just gonna go on the run again. I can't exactly blame him."
"That was the scepter talking," Stark said positively. "Trust me, he's one pep talk away from joining our little bowling league."
"Okay," Steve said. He didn't think Stark was right, but he accepted the possibility. "Keep an eye out for Thor. If he survived the fall, he'll be there, and we could really use his help."
Stark put on a pair of safety glasses, activated his tool and pressed it against the damaged helmet, shooting out a spray of sparks. For the first time Steve was struck by how much Tony looked like Howard, and he stood stock-still in surprise. Howard was dead and gone, and yet... in a way, he really wasn't.
Maybe more of the old world had been saved that he had originally thought.
"Hey, shouldn't you be suiting up instead of standing around watching me work?" Stark said, glancing up at Steve. "I'm expecting you to back me up, remember?"
Steve smiled slightly. "I'll be there."
He strode out of the workshop and headed off to find Romanoff.
TO BE CONTINUED
Author's note: If there's one thing I regret about "The Avengers," it's that we never really got to see the moment after the big fight in the lab when they all realized Loki was manipulating them, made up with each other and decided to work together as a proper team for the first time. The movie tells us enough that we can extrapolate that it happened, but I wish we could have seen it. Steve/Tony conflict scenes are great, but I feel like seeing more of their working-well-together moments would make their disagreements all the more tragic and powerful. Let me know what you thought of my take in the reviews!
Next week: A "missing scene" from Avengers where Bruce Banner and Steve Rogers get to know each other better.