Magdalena Arrensdottir was having an absolutely atrocious day.
A wave of something that could only be described as furious nausea threatened to overwhelm her. She doesn't need to be watching the images to know exactly what's going to happen next. She overhears the muffled collision of the recording, proudly on display thanks to Zemo, who at the present is holed away inside the hoary Russian bunker.
She glowers menacingly at the Sokovian; his head still poking through the window and taking private delight in the vulnerable crimson flush that soaked Tony's cheeks. Honestly, it was a testament to her self-restraint he hadn't already burst into flames.
Zemo then sees her; the tight gulp he tries to hide fools no one. One way or another, he knew, she was going to kill him. It wasn't going to be quick, either.
Holding her breath, she swallows the bit of bile gathering at the back of her throat. She's strategically placed herself between Iron Man and James Buchanan Barnes. Her heart is beating so painfully slow and as she sends a quick glance over Tony's shoulder into the eyes of Cap, she knows he feels it too:
The anticipated dread of knowing.
Panic was not an emotion that Maggie was accustomed to feeling. It made her feel out of control, which was something she strived absolutely to never be. The screams from Maria Stark on the black and white screen make her wince, closing her eyes tight and furrowing her brows.
The magic inside her stirs. That sense of clawing, nauseating panic was building, squeezing her ribs together, making it difficult to breathe. Maggie flexes her fingers unconsciously. Barnes notices and his grip around the gun tightens as he diverts his gaze to the metal grated floors, listening and just…waiting. He couldn't run anymore.
There is a stifled gunshot, followed by a static ripple, and the tape cuts. A heavy silence fell over the room. A leaky tap dripped rhythmically into a growing puddle in the far corner.
Tony feels as though he just dove headfirst into cold water. He could taste blood in his mouth and realized he had bitten through the inside of his cheek. His fingers began to tremble and so he clenched them into fists beneath his armor and looked up just in time to catch the looks of worry being exchanged over his shoulder.
Maggie can feel Tony's gaze on Bucky, who shamefully, he cannot bear to meet in return. Then his eyes go to her, then Steve. She closes her own again and wills the universe to stop, rewind, and to have them be home all together again.
Tony's quick step towards Bucky and the fire blazing in his eyes are all it takes for Steve and Maggie both to block him from his goal, to try and calm him down even though they know it'll be impossible. Tony begins to process to details which happen to be quite literally staring at him in the eye.
"Did you know?" Tony's asked Steve. Maggie's hand touches his metal side as if the slight motion would push him back. Her touch has calmed him before; she's not sure what good it'll do now.
"I didn't know it was him."
"Don't bullshit me Rogers, did you know?"
"Yes."
"Maggie?" Tony looks to her pleadingly, the women he loves, and his heart drops to the floor. He already knows the answer. "Not you." He begs, chin tight, eyes wide with anger. "Really?" He whispers to her, completely taken aback, lump heavy in his throat.
Tony is waiting, honestly; waiting to wake up from this nightmare because all of this is clearly some sort of sick and twisted joke his mind has made up, and he would very much like to be past this already. The mere thought of Magdalena keeping this secret, or any secret from him...he feels he might as well double over and empty his stomach onto the floor now.
An exchange in silence by the defeat of her blue eyes tells him all he needs. He nods, swallowing thickly. A mixture of alarm and incredulity crosses his features. His eyes glance to Bucky, then back to Maggie.
"Get out of the way." He whispers.
Her grip tightens on his armor. She raises herself up on her toes to get him to refocus his gaze from the body stepping slowly away behind her. "Tony - listen to me -"
A step closer to her, there is no space left and he grinds his teeth. "Move."
"Stark." Steve cuts in. "HYDRA had control of his mind -"
"Move." His eyes burn into hers and he shakes his head once. "I'm not telling you again."
"Don't." She whispers, an odd sort of emotion hit her deep inside her chest. "Don't make me choose."
Tony stops, swallowing hard to push back the lump in his throat that threatens to break him down. "You just did, sweetheart."
Not breaking eye contact, she removes her hand from him and steps back slowly, closer to Bucky. She hears the inner whirls of Tony's suit start to gear up, and her fingers spark. Both of their eyes daring the other to act first.
As her feet rise from the ground, levitating inch by inch, she speaks, "Get out of here, Barnes."
The Winter Soldier runs, Iron Man breaks into flight, Captain America throws his shield, and The Raven whispers her spells.
Afterwards, when they're bloody and broken; when Cap drags his best pal out towards the jet and tosses his shield aside…Maggie stays.
Her lip cut, forehead gashed, right wrist shattered. She leans against the concrete wall looking out towards the cliffs of Siberia, waiting for Iron Man, for Tony, to get up out of the dust.
"Go." He waves at her; broken breaths escape his lungs. The light of his suit has been shattered, completely useless. "Don't bother staying. You got what you wanted."
"I didn't want any of this." She snaps. "I didn't want you to know about Barnes because it would have split the Avengers apart. It did split the Avengers apart."
"No!" He gets up, wild eyes again. "You split us apart. You, Cap, Wanda, Barton – all of you!"
He stomps up to her, red metal finger an inch from her chest. She still leans on one leg (the other she definitely pulled something, and she thanks the gods she's on the right side even though at the moment she isn't so sure) and holds her right arm across her stomach for support.
"You kept secrets from me - secrets I had a right to know about because it was my mom and my life and my loss and you kept that from me." His chin trembles and the glossiness overtake his brown orbs. "You of all people."
"Tony -" Maggie took a shuddering breath and tries to reach out her hand to cup his face. He jerks away, swiping at her hand with no energy left and turns his back towards her. "I am truly, deeply sorry." Her own tears fall in silence, voice like gravel.
"First the Accords, now this. What else are you keeping from me?" He casually throws a glance her way. "I guess my first red flag should have been your ex -"
She swallows, saving that argument for another time. "You know I couldn't sign -"
"Yes, you damn well could have!" He steps back to face her, and she looks up at the ceiling, piqued. "I could have protected you, from all of that. From being controlled, manipulated -"
"Like you're doing right now?" She bites back. He furrows his brows trying to understand. "You, yelling and telling me what I should have done by bringing us up - bringing up my past my mistakes my fears, that isn't...isn't controlling or-or manipulating?" She talks with her left hand.
"I have that right because we're supposed to be in this together. You're supposed to support me -"
"I do support you, Tony, but not on this. And you knew that. You knew that I would have an issue and that's why you didn't come to me before moving forward with your brilliant plan of creating an Avengers contract." Tony shakes his head and steps backwards. He didn't want to hear it again.
"That's what you've made us." Maggie puts her finger on her chin in mock thought. "I wonder how that would work, exactly? Since I'm of Asgard and not of Earth, do I file my taxes differently? Maybe I should get a consult -"
Tony rubs his hands over his face. On any other day he'd find her quick wit adorable, and he'd crack a smile but today, God, today she was being insufferable. So, he decided to throw it right back at her.
"You're a criminal now, you know that right?" He shrugs, as if to say it doesn't bother him. "Big brother Thor isn't here; he won't be able to protect you."
"I don't need his protection, darling." Her words come out like venom, and he finally sees why Loki and she got on so well; The God of Mischief wasn't the only one with a Silver Tongue. Maggie's done trying to reason with him, and she'll dish it right back if he keeps going on like he has been. "Or do you need another round to sharpen your memory? Perhaps a mirror?"
Maggie alludes to the cuts and bruises and black eyes forming on Tony's face.
"You'll just be giving them another reason to come for you." Tony waves her comments away with a matter-of-fact tone.
"Are you the one who's going to arrest me?" She challenges.
"If I have to." He tells her, sadness aside and bitterness taking hold.
She walks up to him, only a few steps because she's sore and tired and could've healed herself but there was no time, no point. "Then do it. Put your handcuffs on me. You know the ones." Tony blinks and his breath catches again. She darts her eyes back and forth from his.
Maggie takes a closer step, and her voice lowers threateningly. "Don't you dare lecture me about keeping secrets. Mine was to protect you. Yours was to control me."
"They weren't meant to control you." Tony corrects, backtracking quickly. No, she can't think so lowly of him, not after everything. "They were to subdue." Maggie scoffs and walks back to her spot on the wall. "Just like the precautions with the Hulk -"
"Mm." Maggie faces him, unimpressed with a deadpanned expression. Tony stops mid-sentence with an irritated look and lets his arm fall to his side.
"Look, what did you want me to do?!" He's exasperated, tired, desperate. "Fury came to me -"
"Right, since you are the best of friends."
"Mags, it was a long time ago." He tries to reason with her. "I didn't know you. We hadn't met, yet."
Maggie straightens herself back against the wall and says quietly, "So, are you going to tell me that they are not hiding in that suit? That Ross didn't tell you to bring me in at all costs?"
A beat of silence passes through the air, along with the wind and snow through the pillars, no sunshine in sight. Tony pleads with her through his eyes, and she dares him to say something with hers. Then, slowly, his suit peels back on his right, and he takes the thick, metal cuffs out.
Her eyes, threatening to expel more tears that hang just on the edge of her lids, watch them closely; the sleek silver, the gadgets (to which she couldn't even begin to understand how they work or how he came up with them) taunt her, in the fingers of the man she loves and treasures and gods, did it kill her soul standing there watching as he looks shamefully and hesitantly at the restraints.
"We going to fight for our lives again?" Tony quips, tilting his head up at her and a slight humorous tone to his voice.
She purses her lips and whispers, "Isn't that what we've been doing?"
He nods, the weight of her words making his chest heave. Looking back down at the restraints, he fiddles them with his fingers until a latch is released and they open. Time stops in that moment, and it was not Maggie's doing this time.
Tony breath breaks. "Please, don't make me do this." He looks at her. "There's still time -"
"You know that's not true." Her eyes are glued to the shackles, and in her mind that's what she calls them. Terrified of being under someone else's control other than her own. The feeling of betrayal is so heavy on her chest she thinks her insides are caving in on themselves.
Tony nods, and sniffs. He walks over to her and takes her left hand, limp and with no fight left. He cuffs her wrist, and a shock wave unlike she's ever felt before surges throughout her body. Her face pales, her energy depletes even further, and Tony has to catch her before she hits the ground.
"Just the initial shock, Mags." He tries to tell her; softness and care finds his tone again. He's holding her to him, and he isn't sure he'll ever get this image of her - her crumpled and weak in his arms - out of his head. "It'll wear off. I promise, sweetheart."
"You might as well break that habit, Stark; the names of affection." Her eyes are closed, and she says it with slight humor. He holds his left hand on her shoulder, and he thinks if she could stab him with her words she's doing a great job. "This will be the last time you are ever allowed to touch me."
"I won't waste the moment, then." He says quietly, letting the hurt show on his face. He leans forward, wraps his hand to the back of her neck, and brings her to his lips.
"Stark." Ross has his hands in his suit pockets, strutting down the catwalk to the landing pad with a smug grin on his face. Watching Iron Man bring The Raven into custody on his own; having the heroes and lovers turn against each other; this'll will get him a great pay-raise. He's already picturing which shade of leather he wants inside his yacht.
"Back so soon?" Tony leaps out of the aircraft, still in his tattered armor, Maggie unconscious in his arms. Ross raises a bemused brow, "Looks like one hell of a lovers' tiff, hmm?"
Tony forces a laugh behind gritted teeth. Why the hell he got stuck with this guy, he'll be kicking himself for the rest of his loveless life. He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly when he's out of Ross' sight.
"What of Rogers?" Ross walks with Tony down into the vessel. God, this guy was never satisfied. "Barnes?"
"No word." He lies quickly, almost cheerfully, passing the soldiers and guards along the halls. Slowly but surely, they make their way to where Maggie will be kept, and with each passing step, his heart breaks a little more and it feels like his entire self is being swallowed whole.
When they stop in front of the doors leading to her cell, Ross nods to the guard, "We'll take her from here."
"Nope." Tony pops. "I got her." Maybe it was because he wasn't about to trust anyone else with her handling. Or maybe he wanted to feel the warmth of her for a few seconds more – take in each and every bit of her for one last time. But Ross shrugs, not caring either way so long as he won, and steps to the side.
Tony should have expected this as soon as he stepped foot into the small space - the silence and judgement coming from the other cells as he places Magdalena down on the cot.
"Unbelievable!" Clint laughs. "His own girl. Just when you thought you'd seen it all!"
When Maggie wakes up, she finally believes she's experienced a true hangover.
She blinks, adjusting her eyes to the bright lights above her; black metal walls all around in the small, enclosed space.
She leans on her elbow and props herself up, raven-colored hair lay in wisps over her shoulders and face. She goes to move the strands but winces, painfully reminded of her injuries and of course how they happened was definitely not a dream as she so wished. She looks down at her wrist, notices it's wrapped, and curses.
She wasn't able to heal herself before he put the damn cuff on.
"Careful." She hears behind her. Her eyes shoot to the glass; on the other side, the man who put her here in the first place. Maggie gets up slowly, looking past him and around at the other cells. Sam gives her a lazy wave as he watches the interaction closely.
"Where's your throne, Tony?" Her words are casual, as if they'd been shared over a cup of coffee on a Sunday afternoon.
"The same place you left your fiancé." He points.
That was all she needed to hear. Maggie held his gaze for one last time before she turned her back on him, walking slowly away, restraining the urge to turn back for one last glance at her shattered love life, once again. Tony watched her go, still glaring daggers at her back until she'd lowered herself onto her cot turned away from him.
"Fiancé?" Lang mouths to Sam.
"Loki." He mouths back.
It was a low blow, but Tony had won for now. After all, she didn't matter (he kept telling himself). She'd betrayed him.
She'd become the scum of the Earth, just like the rest of them.