Disclaimer: I'm broke and own Nothing!
So here's Chapter 2 hope you like it :D
Sam didn't often visit his relatives, so with the added drama of the accords, it had been nearly four years since his last visit. As he walked up to the bowing wooden steps of the porch to his Great Aunt's door his mind relaxed with the familiarity of the place. The worn chipped paint, the crooked brass knocker. He crumpled the plastic film around the box he was holding, absently breathing in the smell of freshly pruned flowers in the window box. This was his childhood. He was hesitant to knock the door, longing to soak in these overwhelming feelings of nostalgia. Then suddenly the door opened for him.
"Samuel Thomas Wilson, it's been a long time since you paid me a visit." She looked him up and down with a stern expression. She leaned heavily on a polished, maroon walking stick and her slightly greying hair was pulled back into a conserved bun, but her eyes burned with a passion of youth. "Those chocolates better be for me." Her eyes locked on the small, brown box Sam held, the corner of her mouth twitching.
"Your favourite." He smiled as big as his mouth would let him and flew open his arms for a hug, a tactic he was familiar with from a young age to try and get out of trouble.
"They were my favourite a few years ago, Samuel." She narrowed her eyes but only seconds passed before her face broke. "Gimme the chocolates then you get a hug."
The house was just as he remembered it. The Japanese style wallpaper weaved pastel pink flowers around dark branches, their flow disturbed only by the dark oak sideboards that lined the space. Each room was packed with quirky mismatched furniture she had collected over the years, no two even comparable in style. In her youth, she travelled as far as she could reach, barely a penny to her name. She'd seen a lot over her life and Sam loved to hear about her tails of adventure and weird happenings as a child. In fact, coming to her quaint village in the middle of nowhere was one of his favourite days out. Most children would have been bored in such a place. There were no neighbour kids to laugh about with, no parks or farms, just his great Aunt's adventures that he could share.
He smiled wistfully at the pictures of him ageing across the room, almost like a timeline of his life, all the way to recent years. He picked up one of the frames and lightly stroked the edge with his thumb. It was a picture of him and his comrade in uniform, in this very house. He felt the sting of loss spike the back of his throat but he swallowed it back.
His great aunt approached carrying a tray of tea, she shook her head lightly. "I was gonna put up a more recent photo of you but I thought the newspaper clipping, painting you as a fugitive would be in bad taste next to that one." She raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips but her eyes held a glimmer of excitement. "What did you get yourself into?"
Sam wasn't sure how long they talked but it was long enough for topics to change several times, effortlessly flowing through events that had happened since they last met. He told her about the accords, SHIELD, his adventures as an Avenger, the new found friendship in Captain America (he was her childhood hero so they spent a long time talking there) and all things in between. In any other circumstance, Sam would have felt it as a break of trust to talk about such confidential things but with his Aunt, he had no doubt in her ability to keep her mouth shut.
She also slipped some stories in too, but to her dismay, they were much less action-packed. Some new hobbies she had started, archaeology research that she was taking an interest in but otherwise uneventful, yet Sam was still intently listening to every word. He was in awe at how much he missed her. With everything that happened it was amazing to hear her sly comments about neighbourhood gossip and passionate summaries of new historical discoveries around the world. Sam had almost forgotten why he came, that was until his Aunt mentioned the letter.
"I know I like to take the higher ground when it comes to visits, Samuel, but I have to admit I called you here so I could ask a favour of you." Her finger traced the edge of the teacup and she looked down into the small puddle of tea at the bottom, briefly avoiding his eyes.
Sam smiled as she looked up, giving her a solid nod.
"Its Alicia's grandson, I don't know him myself, but she said he called in the middle of the night scared about his workplace. He doesn't have anyone else you see, no other family, he talked about not being able to trust his friends, I suppose because they all work at the same place. He said that they have been dealing with some off-continent company and doing all sorts of bad things. Alicia never said what but the look in her eyes, Sam," she looked up at him suddenly, her voice trembling, "that will stay with me."
The soldiers face hardened and he took her hand. "Is he going to the police?"
"That's the thing," her eyes glazed with a misty cover, "Alicia hasn't heard from him and it's been a couple weeks now. She thinks…" Her voice trailed away, not wanting to complete the thought.
She gave Sam's hand a quick squeeze and gently corrected her posture, gaining back her authority and losing the brief image of vulnerability. "I know you have friends in high places now." She raised an eyebrow, almost in disbelief. "Please, can you look into it."
He quickly took the name of Alicia's grandson and the name of the company, he recognised it immediately as one of Stark's rising competitors. Then without prompt, he collected the empty cups and busied himself doing the dishes.
Just as he was placing a saucer into the drying rack there was a sudden scream in his ear. His hand spasmed and he flung the saucer into the kitchen counter, smashing it on impact. He distantly heard his great aunt complain but at the moment his attention was drawn elsewhere.
"There are at least twelve heavily armed civilians surrounding the safe house, they have engaged and we are taking cover." Steve's voice was calm despite the volume he needed to be heard over the gunfire. "We need backup now."
"I'm on my way. Keep me updated." He hastily dried his hands on a nearby towel and jogged back into the lounge.
"Samuel?" His Great Aunt had the buzz of excitement in her voice. "What's going on?"
Sam smirked and quickly kissed her on the forehead. "I have to go." He swiped his jacket and ran out the door, bolting to the car and throwing open the boot. He grasped for the metal structure inside and threw it over his back, yanking the goggles down over his face. The last thing he saw before he took flight was his Aunt stood wide-eyed at the door. Then all he saw was clouds.
As he gained speed he found that any efforts to further contact them was futile. His calls for acknowledgement were left only with static. He felt the dread build in his stomach. Twelve assailants? Surely they would be no match for Captain America and the White Wolf (or whatever he went by these days) but for some reason, Sam had a bad feeling about it.
What he saw when he arrived made his stomach drop. The once calm neighbourhood that was now engulfed in smoke from a flaming car, a few scattered bodies littered the ground along with discarded weapons and pools of blood. But that wasn't the source of his panic.
Three men were dragging Steve into the back of a van. He wasn't moving. Not even flinching as they pulled him mercilessly across the asphalt. His clothes were soaked in blood. Sam's blood boiled.
He swooped in, his feet colliding with the largest of the three men. Twisting he slammed his elbow behind him causing the second man to lose his grip on Steve and take a mad swing at the Falcon. Sam ducked grasping the man's arm and flipping him over his shoulder into the third guy. He planted his feet firmly, catching Steve and lowering him to the ground. There was movement behind him. Out of nowhere, the first man was back on his feet, his gun raised, but in his haste, he failed to notice the small drone behind him and with a quick flick of Sam's wrist, the drone collided with his head, knocking him out along with his other two assailants.
Sam crouched down beside his friend, heart racing. "Steve." He gave him a small shake. No response. Sam raised two fingers to his neck. The pulse was strong and his shoulders sagged.
He was ripped from his relief by the sounds of guns loading. His head snapped up to see six more people around him, each holding a deadly rifle pointed in his direction. Begrudgingly he raised his hands above his head. With a sense of dread he realised that his appearance had not caused much of a stir amongst the assailants. Rather than confused, panicked faces, he found himself confronted by smirks and eyes twinkling with excitement. They all clocked their guns almost simultaneously. Sam tensed. He considered what his last words might be.
A sudden bang made him jump. A manhole cover came soaring from behind him taking out three people in one sweep.
It distracted the others long enough for Sam to raise his wings to protect himself from the onslaught of bullets, spinning towards their origin and taking out another two people. He heard the last active gun clicking, as the 'civilian' uselessly pulled the empty trigger. He turned to face her, face taught. "Who do you work for?"
She growled in response throwing down her gun. She wore a pastel coloured top, now mottled with dust and grime. Her make-up was smeared just below one of her eyes and it gave her a demonic shadow. There was a pause. She yanked the large pearls from her neck and hurled them towards his face, the beads scattering and throwing him off his guard. In one fluid movement, she slipped a knife out her belt and bought it crashing down.
Sam threw his hands up desperately trying to protect himself. He knew it would do no good. He reacted too late.
But no blade came.
Sam lowered his arms to see her face frozen. She staggered backwards, the knife clattering to the floor, her hands grappling at the blade protruding from her chest. He whirled around to see Bucky leaning heavily against the van. He was breathing was laboured as he crouched over himself trying to regain his balance. His eyes were locked with Sam's. Bucky had saved his life.
"What so you're playing frisbee with manhole covers now?" Sam called mockingly.
"Your welcome." He grumbled stumbling towards Steve.
Sam swooped over to him, taking his weight. "What the hell happened?" Bucky did nothing but grumble in reply. "I swear I leave you guys five minutes..."
It wasn't until he reached the tower that his mind caught up. Peter shoved his shoulders through the small window to the driver's side of the car. "Wait! Mr Stark sold Avengers tower ages ago!"
Happy smirked. "That's only what the public think. Tony wants to keep it off the books for," he looked at the kid, an eyebrow raised, "'special' events. Damn publicity stunt nearly cost us an entire horde of top-secret technology though."
"Your welcome!" Peter chimed retracting his head and throwing himself out of the car. The excitement was hitting him now and he could help but feel giddy over Happy's words. 'Special'.
As they walked up towards the wall of mirrored glass, he bounced on the balls of his feet, gawping at the building's entrance. It was seamless panes of glass almost four times their height, interrupted only by a sliding door which opened on their arrival.
When they entered they were bathed in the gleam of the white, polished walls and furniture, beaming the light around the room making it almost blinding to be in. This was broken only by the occasional potted ficus around the edges and the presence of the brightly dressed receptionist slouched behind the desk. The blonde was boredly flipping through a magazine with her pristine, pointed, pink nails; her highlighted curls bobbing to the side as she absently tilted her head while she read. She barely batted a false eyelash as Happy strode through the open area, past the desk and up to the sheen, white wall.
Happy swiped his card from his pocket and suddenly a small square of the wall retracted revealing a glass camera. He removed his dark glasses and leaned in as the scanner plotted his iris, giving a beep and a green light before an entire chunk of the wall folded in on itself leaving what looked like the inside of a lift.
Peter gauped at the whole exchange. He pressed his hand over the area the scanner had come from, now replaced by wall. He could barely feel any indentation it was incredible. Tony Stark was a man known for having secrets but this was crazy. To have this so secretive, he must be doing something shady. Or at least something he wanted to keep off the books. Maybe he was harbouring fugitives.
His heart skipped at the thought. The prospect that Captain America and the other runaway Avengers standing in the same building in which he now stood was amazing. 'This must be a mission!' He decided, without a shadow of a doubt. He felt his chest puff with pride. He had been chosen to go on a mission with the Avengers.
Happy yanked him into the lift just as it closed. Then the wall closed behind them as if nothing had been there in the first place.
They emerged a few seconds later into a sleek black corridor that opened out into a vast living area. As they walked, the space curved round a modern kitchen that looked onto the lounge. It was littered with suave black leather sofas and a ceiling-to- floor television screen. The kitchen looked untouched. Appliances of all kinds were lined neatly along the back wall, shining in the harsh spotlights above the counters.
It was stunning. Peter felt reluctant to even step any further. He cringed at the memory of the muddy puddles he stomped through getting to school that morning. The stain on his t-shirt from lunch. He wondered if he should have dressed smarter.
His mind was running away so much he almost didn't notice the billionaire.
Tony stood facing the New York skyline, the curved lines of his designer suit a bold contrast to the block towers of the city. He was speaking hurriedly on a small Nokia phone. "Just get to the compound." Were his final words as he hung up, swinging around with a showboating grin that Peter knew was for his benefit.
"Hap, can you give us a minute?" He placed a hand on Peter's shoulder and steered him towards one of the leather sofas.
"What you want me to leave? You know I'm not just a delivery guy-"
"That exactly what you are, now go find Lang he should be in the building somewhere. Bring him here would you." As Happy begrudgingly shuffled to the lift Tony called thanks but it was more of a mocking addition than a sincere one.
"Lang, like Scott Lang, like the Ant guy?"
Tony turned his attention back to the teen who was sat in one of the armchairs, barely on the edge of his seat, his leg bouncing up and down furiously. "Now before we start, this is not a mission." The deflation in the kid's posture was brutally evident. "You know, being on the ground is good, gets you some good training and all. Your not quite mission-ready but you're getting there, just keep your head down and keep at it. How're the patrols going?"
Peter swallowed his disappointment as best he could. "It's going really well, Mr Stark. Haven't seen any high tech weapons in a while so I think I must have got most of Vulture's crew."
"Good Good." Tony busied himself making a coffee. "Police relations?" It was something Tony was keeping an eye on so he knew the answer. In truth, he wanted to check the kid knew the answer as well.
"Good… well they come and pick up the criminals when I leave a note, some of them say thank you. I know that some of them think I shouldn't be helping and stuff, which makes sense I mean it's technically illegal." He laughed lightly, swallowing hard.
Tony nodded. "How's school?"
"It's… good." He hesitated. "Mr Stark, Is this just like a check in thing because Happy told me to bring some of my stuff-"
"Okay, okay I get it, less of the small talk." He plonked down on the sofa opposite him, slouching into the familiar grooves. At his words, the kid slightly drew in his eyebrows, enlarging his eyes. "Jeez kid loosen up, you look like a dejected puppy," he sighed, "I actually bought you here for a debrief, for one of the missions me and Widow just ran."
Peter perked up at this.
"We found a new big bad, maybe Hydra level we don't know yet. We managed to look into some of their files and they are into a lot of bad stuff. The most important is that they are after enhanced humans which, unfortunately, includes ragtag vigilantes such as yourself. They have already made a play for some, and possibly had success in bringing in others."
Tony paused. Peter was nodding slowly but he was waiting for the drop. It was time to rip the band-aid off. "They have a file on you containing your identity and all your personal information."
The colour drained from Peter's face.
"Not to worry. That fancy cruise your Aunt's on I put it all together, I have people on there that I trust watching her and no one got any spaces on the ship after I got May on there, she's safe. I've also got someone watching you're school just in case. Hey, Pete, still with me?" He snapped his fingers in front of his face.
Peter suddenly stood from the chair, staring off into the New York skyline. "I should-"
"Sit down, kid." When there was no movement from the teen, he sighed and stood with him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I need you to stay here, your gonna take some time off school just until we can see what kind of threat they pose. Okay?"
Peter nodded shakily.
"Now while you're here: no hitting the streets in your onesie; no leaving the compound at all actually; definitely no inviting anyone into the compound, not even your little nerd friend, okay? I programmed you into all the building's security so you can make commands if you need to. You have free reign of the building including the labs, I put some of the spider specs in there if you fancy giving it a look." He wasn't even sure if he was listening. "Come on kid, your killing me with that blank expression."
His mind sluggishly processed the information as he stumbled out of his daze. "Where do I sleep?"
"You have floor 21."
"Floor?"
"Floor."
With the looming threat over his head, it was hard to be excited but he felt it fighting through his fear. He was in Avengers Tower! Peter couldn't comprehend the idea that he had an entire floor dedicated to him. Only Avengers had their own floor. His heart stopped. "Am I an Avenger?"
"No."
Just then Happy came through the door followed by Scott Lang. The latter was wearing casual jeans and a t-shirt, a large duffle bag swung over his shoulder.
"Oh look, the babysitter is here." Tony called.
"Babysitter?" Peter cried in disgust and Scott called in confusion.
"Scott this is my intern Peter, his Aunt is out of town I need you to look after him for a few days. He's got some stuff he needs to work on in the lab, have fun you two!" He hastily retreated back towards the elevator but Peter was close behind him.
"Wait, Mr Stark!"
Tony stopped as he called the lift turning to face the teen before he could say another word. He lowered his voice. "I left it open for you to tell Lang about your nightly activities if you want, for now, he just thinks your my intern, I recommend you keep it that way I don't really know the guy." He stepped in the lift without a chance for a reply.
Peter jerked out his hand to stop them from closing. "Mr Stark!" Tony shot him a look. "Sorry," he retracted his hand," but I can help! I don't need to be babysat! You saw! I took on the Vulture so I have some experience and this organisation thing knows about me already so it's not like you're dragging me into it; I'm kinda already involved." His speech slowed as he saw his mentor's exasperated sigh. "I can help." The statement was quieter than before. "Please."
Tony stepped out the lift. Once more placing a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I wanna bring you in, kid," Peter flinched at the word, "but first I need to assess the situation before we have a new variable in play. You've got to understand that."
"But you said that I was ready! You said I could join."
"The team haven't trained with you…"
"I can train now! I-"
"No."
Tony sighed deeply retracting back into the open lift, "right now there's too much happening, too many unknowns and having you on the field is just going to be more of a hindrance than a help. I'm sorry, Pete. You're doing good but you're not quite there yet."
With that, the elevator doors closed leaving Peter staring at the shiny steel doors. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. His teeth tugging gently on the back of his lip inside his mouth. The pit in his stomach churning with anger, worry and doubt. He wanted to say more. To shout, to demand to be a part of the mission. Damned to the comfort of other team members, he wanted to fight back. It was his fight too. He burned with the injustice of it all.
Painfully, he swallowed.
He turned and walked back into the vast living room. Happy was giving Scott the rundown of the building, how to get food, etc. Scott listened intently, nodding and occasionally giving an impressed mumble.
"But most importantly no bringing anyone outside the tower, inside the tower." Happy's speech was slow and deliberate as if he was talking to toddlers. He turned to Peter. "No one outside," he pointed out the window, "inside," then gestured to the room. "Got it?"
"Outside, inside, sure whatever. Where's the games room? Tony told me there was a games room." Scott's face lit up with excitement at the prospect.
Happy looked blankly at him for a moment. He turned to the ceiling. "FRIDAY game's room?"
"The game's floor is floor 27."
Scott beamed, "Game's floor?!"
Clint washed the leftover bumps of pastry away from his hands, scratching as the stubborn pieces collected on his fingertips. From where he stood he could see his son sat on the lawn irritably scratching his head over his math homework. "He's still struggling?" He turned to Laura.
"Grades are improving though." She smiled rubbing a spot of flower off his cheek. "He's a fighter." She kissed the now fresh patch of cheek before flinging the towel in his face. She stood beside him, resting he hand lightly on his shoulder. The sun warmed their faces as it floated through the bright yellow curtains patterned with corn. Laura hated them and hid them away when he was gone, but now he was back they hung proudly over the sink. He looked at her now, her face soft in the sunlight. These last few months had been perfect.
"Is that Nat? She doesn't look happy." He turned back to he window. As they watched a sleek black sports car pulled into the dirt drive and Natasha emerged hastily out of it. She waved happily as their son called over but there was no excitement to her gesture.
Clint looked over to his wife, concern evident in her features. They both knew what this meant. Things were bad if he was getting called in. It was rare that Natasha bothered him when he was with the family. Especially now Nathan is in his terrible twos. He gave Laura an apologetic look that was met only with one of resilience.
"Well, go let her in." She smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Natasha stood at the door, her crimson hair loosely braided so that small strands curled lazily around her ears. He hadn't seen her hair this long in a while. She wore her favourite warn brown leather jacket and some black jeans. Nothing about her appearance suggested trouble, but her smile… he knew immediately something was up.
"I'm guessing you're not here for lemon strüdel." He smirked. The citrus smell bounced from the kitchen.
"Unfortunately not today."
Her features were light and he felt himself relax. Nothing too bad had happened yet. He flicked to the kitchen towel over his shoulder and hugged her tight, her slight frame was tense. "Let me grab my stuff."
Nat flopped down on the edge of his bed as he packed, her fingers grazing through the contents of the suitcase. "Do you own anything that's not flannel." She raised an eyebrow as she pulled out a bright yellow and grey shirt that she held only with the tips of her fingers.
He snatched it off her. "It's stylish."
"Its farm boy." She teased as he neatly folded the shirt back into the case.
He shrugged. "I live on a farm."
"Maybe if you let Laura do a bit more of your shopping…" She pulled out a silk black shirt, this time holding it up so she could see how the material hung. "Yes." She murmured as turned it, trying to hold it up in front of where he stood. "This works."
"It's not as comfy though." He countered, laughing at her face of disgust. He took the shirt from her throwing it back in.
"You sound like your sixty." She took the shirt out again, this time folding it neatly back in.
"I feel like I'm sixty." He huffed. When he turned back he wasn't greeted with the playful smirk he expected.
She had pulled out a navy box not much bigger than her hand. It was soft to the touch, almost valour but not quite. Small bits of fluff had collected on the corners from the suitcase but apart from that, there wasn't a scratch on it. She passed her thumb over the lid a memory tugging at the back of the throat. The small scar on her shoulder tingled. "You still have this?"
"You think I'd get rid of it?" He gently took the box from her hands and placed it carefully back into the corner of the suitcase she had taken it from. He zipped up the suitcase hauling it off the bed effortlessly.
"Bad memories." She mumbled.
"Or the start of good ones." A whisper of a smile played on his lips. "Besides, shows once and for all who would win in a fight."
The smirk engulfed her features. "Oh is that right?" She rose gracefully from the bed so she was face to face with him. "I guess we will have to see." She paused nodding her head towards the door. "After briefing of course."
She glided passed him lightly grazing his shoulder on her way out. As she turned the corner he could hear the faint hum of electricity outside the door. A sound he was all too familiar with. Clint puffed out a sigh. "And that winner was you." He mumbled. "Goddammit."
He arrived to the compound within a few hours, settling into his room as if he had never left. He was surprised to know that Tony still kept his room reserved in the building seeing as he rarely helped out even before the accords. Even though he'd only stayed here a handful of times, somehow it seemed like a second home.
The meeting was called within only an hour of him arriving. He stalked into the office room with Natasha closely after him, only slightly over the specified time. They were greeted by the familiar sight of a sleek, glass table that spanned the space, surrounded by shiny leather chairs. Clint raised an eyebrow. It was the same room they had been called to when the accords were first laid out to them. He wondered if Tony did it on purpose or if it was just some kind of unfortunate accident. Clint corrected his thought. He knew Tony never did anything by accident.
Seeing Rhodey was expected, Tony's confidant was always near his side. They took seats beside him exchanging small nods and greetings.
Tony was stood across the room fiddling with his watch, flicking through data that was projected before him. His eyes lifted at the sound of the newcomers, darting quickly past Clint. Things were still uncomfortable since Germany. He was avoiding eye contact so much Clint almost wondered if he felt guilty. Cap tried to convince him that Iron man not making an appearance at their escape from the rig was no accident but he was sceptical. The billionaire did seem very eager to put them there in the first place by his memory.
Many of the group knew something more happened that day. Tony and Steve disappeared off the grid and returned beaten to a pulp, neither of them sharing what happened. Some kind of unspeakable event that both refused to talk about.
That's why the arrival of Captain America and his allies was shocking and really brought the gravity of the situation to light. Bucky's hair was messy and unkempt, a small scratch across his forehead the most of his visible injuries. The Captain, however, looked a lot more worse for wear. His golden hair was still a dusty brown from the dirt, specs of blood crusted a patch near the back of his ear where he hadn't been able to clean in such short notice. Scratches littered one side of his face and down his arm that had only just begun to heal and a large white bandage could be seen bulking out of his clothing from his opposite shoulder.
"You look terrible, Cap!" Rhodey frowned.
Steve chuckled lightly "Good to see you, Rhodey."
The Colonel turned to Tony. "You gonna tell us why you called this meeting? I'm guessing it has something to do with the state of these two." He turned to the super soldiers. "No offence Cap but your fugitives we should be bringing you in."
Tony huffed a laugh. "I think we have bigger problems."
Rhodey raised his eyebrows. A heavy silence settled in the room as if daring someone to talk.
"There's someone making a play for enhanced humans." Steve's grim expression was not uncommon, but there was something else behind his tone.
"And I'm guessing this isn't a small group of misfits we are talking about." Clint sighed. He was tapping a pen lightly on the edge of the table, the rhythmic clicks doing nothing to ease the tension.
Steve glanced fleetingly at the pen before continuing. "They made a play for us; we were surrounded with highly trained mercenaries within seconds with no warning." Bucky pulled a face of distaste. A light expression considering the position he was in merely hours ago.
"Their bullets were laced with a neurotoxin strong enough to take down our resident superhumans with only a scratch." Tony pulled up a hologram of some of the weapons used. Hand arms, knives, assault rifles and many other weapons hovered gloomily above the glass table. "Armed to the teeth with expensive equipment."
"We tried to take people in for questioning but by the time we gathered ourselves any of those who couldn't flee took their own lives before we had the chance." Steve's jaw tightened. "There is only one other time I've seen this kind of behaviour."
"So this is Hydra?" Clint couldn't help but feel a rise of frustration. But he quashed it, instead losing himself in the ebb and flow of the two leaders.
"We don't know." Steve's eyes burned. "If it is then we know how to handle them."
"They weren't flexing the same merch so we hope not." Tony sighed. "But they are just as big and just as bad." Tony flicked his wrist above the table and four personnel files appeared in the air. "These are some of the enhanced humans we've been watching. As of two weeks ago, they all went missing."
Clint found his attention drawn to one in particular, a teenage girl, no older than his daughter. He felt his stomach lurch at the thought of someone so young being dragged into this mess. If the group were anything like Hydra, then it wouldn't be a five star hotel they were keeping her in. If she was even still alive.
Steve squared his shoulders. "This is all hands on deck. They have the resources and the intent to take away half the team."
"What about the team, where is everyone?" Rhodes brow creased in concern.
"I had T'challa take Wanda into his diamond castle or whatever he has in Wakanda. Vis is on stately business," he exchanged a glance with Rhodey, "and I made arrangements for Spiderman." His sentence almost trailed off as he skimmed over the last point.
The people in the room looked intently in his direction. Spiderman was such a matter of intrigue for so many, it was a secret Tony kept close to his chest. Not ever Rhodey, his closest friend, seemed to know anything except that he really cared for the guy. Tony shifted his weight trying to ignore the stares instead looking back to the Captain.
"But it doesn't mean they are safe." Steve pushed. "These people have serious traction. We need to finish this quickly and cleanly before they regroup and make another play."
Many of the group gave a curt nod.
"Romanoff, run them through the details." Tony nodded towards the spy.
Natasha brought up all the information they had pieced together so far on the hologram. It was minimal. She began telling them about what they found in the base they stumbled upon. Tony had compiled a broken list of things he could remember when browsing through the systems and she began to go over these things now, carefully making the distinction between those they knew for sure and facts that Tony was only half-sure he remembered. Her words were concise and professional.
"Rogers, a word?" Tony pulled him aside. He dipped his head towards the door and they both stalked off as Natasha continued, aware of weary eyes that followed their exit.
Tony strode into the small office across the hall. Normally he would have people working in there, keeping the compound running and organising small sanctioned missions required by the United Nations. However, Tony sent his entire staff home the moment there was a chance of threat. With the Avengers on site there was no need for civilians in the way.
He looked around the disorganised workspace. Files were strewn across the desk and piles where laid out on the floor in what looked like an attempt to organise the data. It was Johnson's office. A long-running employee from SHIELD who came with a glowing recommendation from Maria Hill. He was a talented data analyser, Tony had him looking over reports of hydra sightings or rumours and every place he identified was a hit. Talented kid.
"Tony?"
"Yep." Tony pulled himself from his thought. " You don't think this is a coincidence right?" He grabbed a pencil from the desk and span it between his fingers. "We find this hit list that you're on and within two hours your hit?" He smacked the pencil on the table. "Doesn't sit quite right."
"Maybe they panicked."
Tony shrugged. He saw the doubt under his tone and accepted his answer. There was no direct reason to suggest they had been played and yet the order of events seemed too coincidental. Steve thought so too which was all he wanted to check; as long as the caution was there, all they could do was go with it for now.
He toyed with his next question, passing it playfully around his head forming the words. Rogers seemed contempt not to talk about the events in Germany for now and though Tony loathed to bring it up he had to know one thing. "Is he safe?" His heart constricted.
Steve furrowed his brow.
"Barnes. Did they fix him?"
Steve's shoulders tensed. Tony noticed him shift his weight as if preparing to pounce. He wondered if he was expecting a fight.
"Not yet." He was careful. Choosing his words. "They are close."
"So all it would take are the right words."
A heavy silence hung between them.
"You gonna lock him up?" It sounded more like a polite inquire than a threat, a stark difference to his attitude only a year ago. He settled Tony with calm stair, his crystal eyes aching with the weight of the question. Tony hated these kinds of decisions. The ones which lacked logic and instead required a delicate and emotional reasoning in order to settle things. The logical decision would be to lock Barnes away until he was brainwash free so that it was safer for everyone but Steve didn't think that. Not to mention if he locked up Barnes it would also be fuelling his very real, very urgent need for some kind of justice. Even now he could feel it burning in his stomach. Tony made his decision.
"I trust you." His carefree tone did nothing to lessen the gesture and Steve's eyes softened. "He can't go out into the field though, you know that."
Steve nodded. It was better than the answer he was expecting. "Thank you Tony."
The billionaire shuddered at the sincerity and the weight of the conversation. "Okay, I'm done with you. Go," he lazily waved him away, "settle into your room. I just had Happy stock the fridges so there's plenty of food."
Steve chuckled. He imagined Happy's face when he asked that of him. He turned to go. Pausing briefly at the door, he turned towards him. "We'll take them down, Tony, like we always do."
Okay so here it is, not too much going on but I'm gonna try and build it, I have some of the climax chapters wrote for some of the plot points which I'm very excited about. Woooah momma its gonna go down. But yeh that requires me actually getting to that part of the story so we shall see. I will try and get another chapter up soon so let me know what you think!