Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination!
The team spent most of the night together trying to find any lead related to Oscorp and their underhand dealings. Like a handful of other times they needed to go through paperwork, they set up their camp in one of the larger conference rooms. The portable coffee machine plugged in the corner and in constant use throughout the night. Now that it was shifting into the next day the bin overflowed with snack wrappers, energy drink cans and the occasional paper ball (Steve wasn't a fan of writing his notes on a tablet).
They had been sifting through endless tedious files relating to Oscorp and its company dealings. There were public files, files they had from the building courtesy of Bucky and Sam's rogue mission and even files they managed to hack from other places (thanks to FRIDAY of course). Steve hovered outside the room, his own scratching eyes resting on each of his teammates in turn. He could see the exhaustion on many of their faces as they read through page-long documents of useless legal waffle. The only amusing sight was Clint, currently sprawled across the floor, tablet in hand, his eyelids slowly slipping before he jerked them back open.
Steve sighed, looking down at his phone as Sam's caller ID faded back into the plain lock screen and then finally to black. Sam had just ended the phone call. They looked further into the missing employee for his great aunt just to be sure. His personnel file had listed him as deceased and after chasing the doctors report there was no denying it. It was safe to assume there was some kind of conspiracy involved, but for now, they just didn't have the manpower to look into it.
His jaw clenched at the thought. Every life counts. He had always believed that and, despite Sam's frustratingly high level of understanding, he desperately controlled the urge to act on it. To think that Oscorp could just get away with taking a life and no one would even bat an eyelid. That the Avengers wouldn't have the time to handle a case so small. Small as a man's life. He controlled the urge to crush the phone that still lay in his hand.
Just then Clint's head slipped from his palm and thudded mercilessly onto the floor. Natasha huffed a laugh over his groan.
"It's time for a break." Steve hovered in the doorway. For himself included. He needed to be away from this.
"Yipee." Clint huffed himself off the floor and dazedly swaggered out of the room. He patted the super-soldier lazily on the shoulder before sliding past his large frame covering the doorway. He was followed quickly by Rhodey who gave a nod as he left.
"You too, Romanoff."
She glanced up at him, eyelashes fluttering. "Yes, Captain." She gave him a mock salute as he passed him.
There was only one person left. "Stark."
"You go, I'll follow you up." He didn't even raise his head, only giving him a small wave of his hand.
Steve turned to leave. Tony was stubborn and unlikely to do him any kind of favours yet he couldn't help but feel irritated. He was pushing himself too hard, wound too tight and it wasn't going to end well for anyone. "What's this about?" He was surprised as the words left his lips.
Tony sighed. "It's a document on shipping and containing foreign objects that could be harmful and dangerous." The boredom in his voice did nothing to hide the snarky edge.
"Not the file, Tony." He grabbed a wheelie chair near him, perching lightly on the edge. "The late nights, the non-stop work." It had been Tony pushing them to continue through the night not outright. Just the sight of his determination had spurred them on for hours longer than it should have done. "What's pushing you this hard?"
He chuckled. "You sound like a broken record, Rogers."
"It's not healthy."
He flicked over to another document, a short huff escaping his lips as he did. "Forgive me, if someone is throwing fire on our front door and I'm trying to stop them before it burns the house down." He paused his voice quieter. "Before someone gets hurt."
"You can't protect everyone."
His head snapped up. "I can protect the people who need it."
The quiet that followed was heavy. It sat lingering in the air like a balloon waiting to burst. A match waiting to light a fire.
Steve dipped his head. It was obvious there was something deeper. Something nipping away at the edges. He'd seen Tony like this before. It was a bomb that needed to be diffused before it could cause destruction and yet he knew it was born of fear. But fear of what? "What's this about Tony?" His voice was sterner this time.
"All this because I'm not coming to hang out with the squad?" He laughed but his grip on the holotable tightened. "Why don't you go bug someone else for a change? I'm sure your buddy Bucky could use some therapy."
Steve stood suddenly, almost unaware he had done so. "This is what you were like before Ultron." Stark lost interest, turning back to the document but his jaw tightening. "Only this time Bruce isn't here to keep you in check."
"What do you think I'm going to do?" He called throwing the document bigger onto the holo desk. "Create a super evil Frankenstein composed of shipping regulations?" His laugh was hollow and harsh. "I'm not in the mood for a lecture. Go enjoy your recess Rogers."
All Steve could do was leave. The pattern of behaviour was doomed to repeat itself and everybody knew it. Yet Tony Stark still worked.
If he hadn't expected it, the silhouette lingering in the hall might have startled him. "Stark being stubborn again huh?" She smirked, falling into step with him.
"You could say that." He quirked an eyebrow. "He just-" Steve clenched his fist but he couldn't find the words. Couldn't understand how he was so wound up by just a few snarky comments.
"Infuriating." She commented dryly. "By the looks of it anyway."
He huffed a laugh uncurling his fist. "Sorry." He forced his shoulders to relax in an attempt to calm down. "He's keeping something bottled up."
"Hmmm."
It was times like this he wished he knew what she was thinking. The look she was giving him now. It made him feel exposed. He suddenly questioned his own anger. Was it misplaced. Or did the look mean something else. It was a look of knowing.
"Don't suppose you know anything about that, Nat?"
She smiled, fluttering her eyelashes. "Now Steve, are you suggesting that I waited behind for you simply to have a gossip. What do you take me for?"
He chuckled. The question was wide open and it had one obvious answer: a spy. But instead he opted for "someone who's spent far too long with Stark and knows how he ticks."
She shrugged but said nothing to deny it. "He brought in Antman."
"Scott Lang?" It was far from the response he was expecting. "What for?" When she said nothing he paused thinking deeper. "Where?"
"Remember the old tower that Stark sold," she smirked at him, "guess he got sentimental cuz he bought it back under a shell company not associated with him or Stark Industries. Lang has been there a couple of weeks." Her eyes sparkled as he digested the news, a grin tugging at her mouth. "He's been calling him daily for advice on things and his nickname on Stark's communicator is 'babysitter'."
"So either he sprouted a kid or he's keeping Spider-Man there."
"Or both." She mused, clearly enjoying the quirk of his eyebrows at the thought.
He stopped, resting his back lightly against the wall. They were close to the big common room now and he'd prefer to finish his conversation before they arrived. He knew Tony was looking out for the kid but it didn't make any sense.
"Why not bring him here?" She voiced his question before he had a chance to pull it together.
"Surely the safest place for him is in the base. He's not exactly well protected in the tower with Lang. Even if he was, he's not protected at all when he's on the street taking down muggers and thieves." That was something he didn't understand in the slightest. All the avengers were here not only to take down this mysterious organisation but for the sheer fact that there was safety in numbers. It was obvious that these people weren't messing around, if they wanted Spider-Man to add to their collection they could simply pluck him off the streets any time they wanted. So why was Tony leaving him so exposed? "Maybe we should talk to Tony about it. If he wants Spider-Man protected he's going about it the wrong way."
"That's on the assumption that Tony has any control over what he's doing." Natasha smirked. "I think it's safe to say Tony had a plan on how to protect the guy but it's backfiring." She shrugged. "Maybe he sees it as the lesser of two." She stopped before completing the phrase but the connotation was clear enough. The problem wasn't with a lack of strategy but rather a lack of trust.
"Because he still doesn't trust us with his prized possession." Clint rolled his eyes but forced the edge off his tone. "Who knows how the mind of the great Tony Stark works. Psychologists could make him their life's work and still wouldn't crack the surface." He smirked, "not that any of us are any different, I mean who would run head first into danger?" His eyes bore a new underlying intensity as he asked his next question. "The real question is what do you know about him?"
Steve smirked towards the archer. He was clearly intrigued by the secret. It must be second nature for a spy to be drawn towards a conspiracy. "Probably as much as you." It was a lie and they knew it.
Clint sighed in resignation. "Fancy a spar? Wanda wants to try to perfect her aerial attacks; she's excited now that she can 'fly'." He wiggled his eyebrows, "fancy bringing her back to earth, among us mortals?"
Steve nodded, shaking out the ache in his shoulders from the confinement in the computer lab. "I could use the exercise."
Natasha's expression hardened. "Sounds like a challenge, I'm in."
Shuri stood before the giant hologram in a vast hall seated with officials. She stared deeply into the image, surprised to find nervousness shaking her stomach as she paused for words. It was a simple machine compared to those she was used to and yet she found herself struggling for an explanation on the question asked of her.
She spun back to the scientist, "The reason you should trust this technology is down to the decision of your diplomat," she took a breath as her expression hardened, "now if you have questions about the machinery, those I can answer, if not I would return to your country and come back when you are ready to accept the aid given to you."
Many of the room exchanged amused murmurs and snorts of muffled laughter as the oxford scholar sheepishly sat back down with his line of sight firmly glued to the floor. A few in the room glared at the young princess, clearly not used to being addressed in such a manner.
Neither mattered to Shuri; she merely moved to the next raised hand as if she had permitted someone to use the bathroom. She nodded to an elderly man she believed was from Canada, she squinted slightly at the badge on his blazer to see a small red leaf that confirmed her hunch. He stood gracefully, his slim athlete figure out of place in his Norris aging face.
"What is the procedure if the machines break?"
She had prepared this answer shortly before with the council. It was enough to devote so much time to this cause without running a constant repair service for the next decade. "We will give you the training to tackle any kind of repairs required by the machine," she paused meeting the eyes of many in the room, "there is not much room in the technology for malfunction and we will not be providing any kind of aid in the technology unless a theft is involved."
Another man sprang to his feet, "you mean to say you will replace stolen parts but not broken parts?" He scoffed. His thick accent emphasised his anger, he was younger than many of the others, his sleek black hair only home to a few stray white hairs.
"No," her voice was firm, "I mean to say that should any parts be stolen we will personally retrieve them for you."
The room was suddenly filled with an angry buzz of noise and more people raised to their feet. They complained about jurisdiction, about having the right to the medical property, about entitlement and their rights due to the agreement formed. Their overlapping voices grated on her ears. She'd had enough. She opened her mouth to complain but suddenly a voice swept the crowd into silence.
"I believe this is a meeting of scientists, not politicians. Princess, forgive me, I must take a break and I suggest we all do the same. Thank you for your time."
Many stood in awe as the young man left the room. He was a late addition to the group that T'Challa had informed her about, wishing only to observe and learn rather than demand and take. It was this thought that left her unsurprised at the outburst. What did surprise her, however, is that one by one the scientists sat back down, patiently waiting for her to continue.
"Anyone else who wishes to talk politics can leave with him. This is a deal designed to advance knowledge and technology and anyone I feel is not here for these purposes shall face greater consequences than missing only one lecture." She growled, her ears hot.
She took a deep breath and continued.
It was hours before she emerged again from the room. There were arguments that followed but tamed now and not as difficult to manage. Many people left to eat but there was only one thing she wanted to do. As she addressed the last few questions that people asked of her at the end she saw him hovering by the doorway at the back of the room.
Even as she spoke to the last scientist her eyes lingered on him. His cool smile as he leaned against the doorway. His body directed towards her, his crystal green eyes glistening. She was itching for this final man to leave. For his dull questions of legality to disperse and remove themselves from her twitching mind.
As she spoke to the man (his shining bald head bobbing around in the foreground of her vision) she finally took the moment to look over the younger man's appearance. Even from this distance she could see his wavy auburn locks curing over the tops of his eyes. His smart attire faded around the cuffs as the tips of his fingers played with the buttons on the outside of his trouser pockets.
By the time she had finished her sentence he was still looking at her. And she him.
With a frustrated sigh, the man in front of her tipped his head to the side blocking her view. "Yes I see what you are saying." He said shortly. "I suggest you address that in more detail in one of your lectures." With that he spun on his heel, his scruffy notepad clutched to his puffed chest.
She debated following him to the door in an excuse to get closer to the young man. But she stopped herself. How unprofessional she found herself being. To be so drawn in by a man for coming to her aid. She was no damsel in distress and nor did she need to be treated by one. And yet, on purpose or not, he had been a great help to her in giving her a sense of authority not before seen in the eyes of the scientists who had come to her lecture. She came to an agreement. She would at least show him gratitude for that, even if she didn't need the help.
"I believe I owe you thanks." She called up to him, "it is a shame that you didn't see the rest of the talk yourself."
He nodded sheepishly. "I have been told I have a flare for the dramatic." He chuckled to himself at the thought.
"Well your outburst was a great help to me." She laughed. "Afterwards they were terrified I would exile them from the project." The thought satisfied her greatly.
"Ha! I would have loved to see their faces when you promised as such." As if suddenly remembering they hadn't yet been introduced he quickly jogged down the lecture stairs and offered his hand for her to shake. "I am Kristoff Vernard, I have not come to take your technology but rather learn from it if that is possible." His words were flustered.
"Yes, my brother informed me of your intentions. You needn't worry." She smiled.
A grin burst onto his own face and she found herself quite lost in it. A moment passed before either of them spoke almost as if they had both forgotten.
"Have you travelled far?" She asked suddenly. A need to fill the silence.
"Europe. The flight was 6 hours but that is not too long in my opinion." It was then she began to hear the curl of his accent, the rich tones embedding into his words. "I enjoy travelling. I am too often confined to duties at home."
She hummed in agreement.
He laughed at the acknowledgement. Looking around the vast open hall lined with intricate purple decoration around the walls and through the weaving columns at the side of the room. "This room seems out of place amongst the rest of the city." He said gently. "Is it new?"
She followed his gaze around the room. She had never quite taken the time to actually look around the room she was doomed to be spending the next few weeks, maybe even months in. Despite its beauty she longed for her lab. The sleek white edges and scattered holo screens. Her sombre expression seemed to be noticed by the man and she quickly replaced it. "It is yes. Built for these talks."
He nodded slowly, looking back across the room. "Even so," his emerald eyes danced, a striking contrast to the curl of his richly coloured hair, "everything I have seen here is so beautiful." For a split second his eyes darted to look at her before turning back to the room." He smiled warmly before turning back to face her. "To be blessed to visit a place as incredible as Wakanda." He bowed his head gently. "I am forever grateful, princess."
She found herself jittery suddenly, heat rising into her cheeks at such flattery. "Wakanda is a beautiful place," She agreed, her eyes focussed on her notes she gathered together. "If not restrictive in its duties." She was surprised at the comment as it escaped her lips.
He paid no mention to the change of topic. "It must be to deal with these scientists each day." There was an edge creeping into his voice. "When they were undermining you so. I must admit it did not sit well with me." With a flush of colour he cleared his throat and hastily bowed his head. "Forgive me, I know you are no damsel in need of assistance. I shall control my annoyance better next time."
Shuri stopped to look at the man. Her earlier thoughts echoed into his words. She nodded firmly. "Thank you." Any words were slipping away on the edge of her tongue. For this man to so greatly embody her own emotions was strange. In Wakanda she often found that she stood alone in her annoyance, her giddy excitement, her focus and passion. All except for T'Challa of course. But even then he had duties beyond those. For her own thoughts to be repeated back to her. It gave her a piece she had been missing this past week.
When he spoke again she felt almost startled. "I will retreat to my quarters for now princess, it was a pleasure to meet you." He half bowed again rather awkwardly before backing towards the exit his slow walk up the lecture stairs seeming to stretch out the time.
"Yes," she turned to leave herself, pulling the final papers together. A punch of adrenaline sparked through her veins and she looked up, "you are welcome to join me tomorrow and I will fill you in on the material you missed." She spoke almost too loud for her own ears as she ensured her voice travelled to him.
He turned, beaming at her, "Thank you Shuri." He called, lightly bumping the doorway as he passed through it; unaware of its presence. He blushed slightly giving her a nod once more as he left.
She furrowed her brow in amusement. That had been an odd encounter with such an odd scientist. Yet she could help but find herself in much higher spirits than she had been all day.
Tony sighed, shifting his weight on the chair he slumped in, his back aching from the hours of bad posture that had manifested during his intense focus. He felt a flush of annoyance as his stomach rumbled, the smell of pizza a phantom thought in his mind. He cursed himself for his stubbornness.
In all honesty he wasn't sure why Steve wound him up so much. He may have gone up and joined them had Steve not asked him to. But then that was also a lie. He was too engrossed. Obsessed. Dammit. He hated it when Rogers was right.
He tried to silence the nagging voice in his head as he forced his eyes to bring the squirming black print of the documents back into focus. He had begun long before the team and he was really feeling the effects of it. He briefly wondered if it was worth digging out Bruce's old glasses he left in the lab what felt like an age ago. He missed the quirky scientist. He would be lying if the mention of him hadn't burnt when Steve threw that in his face. Ultron. His biggest catastrophe. I mean seriously. He couldn't catch a break. He just wanted this thing done over which wasn't that reason enough to work non stop. To protect the team.
The thought of Peter flickered into his mind before he could stop it. Those images of him on the computers in that hell hole where this had all started. To have the kid so far away when the danger was so real… But it was for the best. If the Avengers were going to poke this thing with a stick then Peter should be as far away from them as possible. Plus, the tower was equipped with the most high tech security system imaginable. Should anything happen there not only would the very walls of the building itself fight back but he had hidden spare web shooters and web bombs into compartments of the wall that would reveal themselves should the need arise. Of course he had a few suits for him hidden as well if he got separated from his own onesie. And all this is just to stall until he could get there which wouldn't take long after he was notified immediately. He released a long breath. The kid was safe.
He paused.
And Scott is there or whatever.
With a new sense of piece, the lingering frustration humming once again in the background he opened up a new group of documents and began searching through them.
The shrill buzz of the cell phone severed the billionaire's flow as he batted holographic documents left, right and centre. He realised he wasn't sure how much time had passed since the team left. Tony reached blindly for it as he squinted to read the solid block of text in front of him. He looked at his phone with an annoyance. Scott was calling him… again.
It was always something trivially annoying that FRIDAY could have answered in her sleep had he asked her. A night last week he called three times each at a different stage of ordering pizza: where's the best pizza delivery; half an hour later a call asking where he should get it delivered to; two hours later asking where he should put the pizza boxes and finally a call the next morning to say thanks for the help with the pizza. The last call Tony ended extremely abruptly.
Lang started each call the same way, a casual 'any news on the mission?' Before his tedious, fumbled inquiry which he claimed was the real reason for the call. Incredibly subtle.
Tony rolled his eyes as he punched the phone onto the speaker and chucked it over onto the side. "Tony." He stated, not even wasting time on a sarcy opening like so many other phone calls with the Avenger wannabe.
"Hey Tony," he paused not comfortable with the familiarity, "Stark, um, hope you aren't too busy with the mission-"
He sighed, already disinterested. With a flick of his wrist, a horde of useless information lined the edge of the holo table, enlarging the rest so it was easier to see.
Most of the night was spent by the team sifting through whatever they could find that could relate to the warehouse or it's cargo. Whatever it was they were very vague about everything so it was a frustrating task. He read through the docking statement that came with the latest shipment. It was further evidence that it was an international group, probably based somewhere outside the US and by the docking statement, likely to be outside the continent.
He'd almost forgotten Lang was still talking.
"So I thought I should let you know because you said I'm looking out for him and well," he laughed nervously, "I did find him passed out on his floor."
"Woah, backtrack a bit there." He slammed the hologram down into the table and it disappeared from sight. He lunged for the phone, pulling it to his ear with a clumsy haste. "Who's unconscious?"
Scott hesitated. "Um…" he must have explained that part already.
Tony tapped the side of the table with an urgency, maybe he should have listened after all.
"Peter-"
"Is he okay? Is he hurt?" He couldn't stop himself.
"No no no!" Scott laughed but it was somewhat strained. "He just has a fever. I was saying Cassie had it last week, same symptoms." There was shuffling on the other end as if he was fidgeting. "He must have caught it off her."
Tony's shoulders slumped. He hadn't realised how tense they were. Scott's nervousness came from a different place entirely, more a guilty schoolboy breaking the rules than a concerned guardian. The corner of his mouth twitched. "That's strange, Lang, how did Peter catch an illness of Cassie if no one is allowed to enter or leave the tower?"
He laughed, "Well you see-" there was a crinkle sound on the end of the phone before, "oh- I seem to be- breaking- can't hear-"
Tony hung up the phone with a roll of his eyes. "Message Scott Lang and tell him to let me know if he gets worse." He called to his AI, a smirk still playing in his features.
He'd done his research into Lang despite what he'd told Peter; he was a family man, adored his daughter and by the looks of it was a pretty good Dad. Peter was the kind of kid who acted on impulse and was reckless with his decisions, he needed an experienced parent to wrangle him in. Of course he knew Lang's daughter would visit, he wasn't an idiot.
In fact he was a genius.
He lunged back towards the table. "FRIDAY pull up the holo again." He pushed back the enlarged data he had been looking at instead opting for the discarded information at the side. He flicked through each document, desperate for what he was looking for. "Enlarge" he cried suddenly recognising the formatting of the Terms of Contract for Shipping and Containment of Rodents and Experimental Animals a document he had before thought was a pointless and mind-numbingly long document read only by the lawyers writing it in the first place. He scrolled through the document, flicking the holographic pages left and write until he found the section for Overseas Export.
He bore through it, page after page of corporate drivel, his eyes burning with forced concentration. A smile burst onto his face. "FRIDAY highlight between here." He held his fingers between two parts of the passage. It read 'All exports of live subjects of experimentation that are required for further study in overseas branches and company extensions must occur at a regulated building registered as building 671HFPZ3QE1 in the official company listings.'
The billionaire flopped back into the soft leather desk chair just behind him. "They wouldn't." He smirked to his AI.
"Wouldn't what?" Natasha leaned against the door, a soft expression played on her features, he could never quite read it. "Everyone is grabbing lunch Tony, you should join. Vis flew to Italy and bought back pizza."
"Say you are head of a multi-billion share company," he began, and she nodded slightly, almost humouring him, "and it's common word of mouth amongst the rich that your methods are somewhat….. questionable." He pounced up from his chair pulling up a large Oscorp logo onto the hologram. He took her smirk as a cue to continue. "It's known that you're shady, so why bother hiding it?" She raised an eyebrow. "Not parading around with guns and experimenting on interns," he corrected, "but some subtle showing off that you're untouchable." When he looked back to her he saw Clint hovering behind listening with interest. He often thought of them as shadows to each other. He shook the thought. It haunted him slightly. "So you have a bunch of people you're experimenting on that you want to smuggle off to a far away land of needles and surgical tables." Something flashed across their expressions but he couldn't place it. "How would you go about that?"
Clint scoffed. "With an ego the size of yours," Tony puffed out his chest, "Within the company facilities and in broad daylight."
Natasha nodded in agreement. "Officially. As part of the company."
Tony's eyes shined. "Exactly." He pulled round the document he'd been looking at, the image of the highlighted text bright against the dim room lighting.
A short laugh escaped Clint.
Nat exchanged a look with Tony, her eyes twinkling. "We found the warehouse."
He launched himself towards the door. "Well, I think I deserve some pizza." He spun out of the doorway, breaking into a small jog before the lift.
AN: Okay so its been a while but I have been writing things that are waaaaay down the line just because I am soooo excited. I will try and post more often but no promises! Thanks so much if you faved or followed this story and if you haven't already review, follow and fave if you like it :D