E for Electrocution
So, a bunch of you are super sadistic (look at the whump writer calling the whump readers cruel) and you demanded that I use the letter E to fry Tony Stark into a crispy piece of bacon.
Very well.
WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: a little dark Steve…and a guest appearance by not one, but two extra special marvel characters.
Thank you for the reviews, keep them coming! The more you review, the happier I am and the more I want to keep writing for you!
Also, guys, I'm super sorry about the delay, but the website was down on upload day, and then my laptop was getting serviced. AS A GIFT, I am uploading two chapters today. YOU ARE WELCOME.
The wind whipped fiercely around the Asgardian's commanding face, his hair billowing behind him. Every gust followed the movement of his arms in perfect synchronization; the storm clouds formed at a twist of his wrist. Not many times had the rest of the Avengers team been witness to the actual act of Thor's powers, and they had always assumed that, like the ancient god himself, the way that he conjured weather would be through strong and sharp movements, full of power and bursts of command.
But really, it was an art form. His movements were so fluid, so well-rehearsed. His hammer rose and fell - his face was knit tight in concentration but his body moved like a dancer. The black clouds swarmed the sky, chasing away all semblance of the blue that had been so beautifully blanketed over the California Coastline.
The team on the ground was transfixed. Even Widow let out a breath of appreciation.
The rain began to fall, heavy thick droplets conjured from the air and the seas. Thor had command over it all. The water drenched the dry earth, and the landscape drank greedily. The raging wildfire blazed brightly in contrast to the dank wetness; but soon, even that uncontainable monster was vanquished, starved of dry fuel in the damp trees and underbrush. Just another mission successfully completed by earth's mightiest heroes.
Thor landed shortly after dispelling the worst of the storm, but leaving some cloud cover as an insurance policy. For the first time in their string of successes, the team was met with a round of applause from onlookers. The California Wildfire Department stood on the sidelines, cheering and graciously thanking the Norse God and his comrades. This fire had been much too big for the crew to handle, stretching almost seventy square miles; and many civilian homes had lain unwitting in its path of destruction. Tony, sitting pretty in his Malibu villa earlier that morning, had inquired as to whether the team would be of any use. Obviously, they had.
After wrapping things up on the West Coast, the team boarded the quinjet and headed back to New York. Even though it was a minor mission, and a charitable one at that, debriefing was a strict policy. Usually with something like this, they would all sit around for the mandated half hour and drink coffee or tease each other. Today was no different. Even Fury seemed reluctant to be wasting such time on this particular protocol. He quickly dismissed them and returned to whatever top secret problem he had been attending before the team arrived at headquarters.
Stark Towers was bustling as usual when the team walked in through the lobby. A quick security swipe and the group was on their way up, up, up to their living room.
Tony was the first one through the door. "Damn, I missed New York." Malibu was great, the new house was great, but he had to admit that he longed to be with his teammates. They had become the closest thing to a family that Stark, and most of the other teammates as well, had ever known.
Clint flopped down onto the expensive leather couch and wryly voiced his agreement. Tash gave her typical lip twitch to signify that she was smiling. She claimed her usual crisscross seated position on the corner of the couch, shoving Clint's head out of her spot. The archer swatted her away and laughed, then turned his attention to Steve, who was the only one seemingly conscious of how hard the maids work and was removing his muddy boots to dry on the doormat.
"Hey, Cap," Clint called. Steve perked his head up. "You wanna grab me a banana?"
Tony laughed from the hallway. "Now Barton, that just sounds dirty."
"Oh shut your mouth, Stark, everything sounds dirty to you."
Regardless, Steve chuckled lightly and took two strides to the kitchen. He ripped off a banana from the bunch and tossed it perfectly to Hawkeye who caught it over the back of couch without even looking.
Thor hung his hammer on its honorary peg by the door, and shrugged out of his Roots sweatshirt that the team had made him purchase to look a little more inconspicuous walking through NYC – well, there was only so discreet you could be when you were a 6 foot 6 blonde and hulking male model with deep blue eyes and long blonde hair… but the sweatshirt was at least a little better at masking those traits than his typical metal bodysuit and flaming red cape.
"Has there been any news on the welfare of our good doctor?" Thor leaned against the wall. "How does he fare?"
Tony nodded at him between sips of his smoothie. "Yah," He swallowed. "I got an email from Brucey today. The research team is almost done in Oregon - they think they've contained the radiation signals."
Thor grinned widely and clapped Tony on the back, sending the smaller man lurching forward slightly. Damn, he would never get used to Asgardians. "That is splendid news! Doctor Banner shall return to his friends soon, then. We shall have a great feast upon his arrival home!"
Natasha had resumed the book that she had left on the coffee table. Barton piped up from his lounging position. "You know me, Blondie." Clint was absentmindedly flicking through cable channels. "Always in the mood for a feast." The Archer settled on 'House Hunters'.
Steve couldn't help but look around in a content silence. They were all so domesticated, so comfortable with each other. This room contained a super soldier from World War 2, a Norse God, a billionaire with a weaponized suit, and two master assassins. And there was a smoothie being slurped, a fridge being raided, and a Florida couple on the TV deciding which Miami condo to buy. It was a great sight.
But of course, peace never lasts long enough. Just as Thor and Tony had planted their butts into the recliners to join Clint (after a detailed explanation to the Norseman that 'House Hunters' did not equate to people literally hunting houses), the alarms in Stark Tower began to blare. Their phones lit up with a page from Fury himself, and JARVIS invaded the Television Screen.
"Sir," the English AI accent came loudly and urgently. "There is an emergency transpondence from Director Nicholas Fury being received here directly from SHIELD Headquarters. Shall I patch him through, Sir?"
"Immediately, JARVIS, yes." Tony and the others were all up and standing alertly around the screen. Fury's face popped up in an instant, his face looking tired and worried, and much more pissy than it had only two hours earlier.
"Director." Steve stood center screen, at attention.
"Captain." Fury nodded respectfully. "At ease." Steve shifted his feet and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
Fury took a bracing breath. "We have a problem. And Thor, you, especially, are not going to like it."
Thor immediately pushed in front of Barton and stood just behind Steve. "Is it Asgard? Are they under attack?" He demanded, his eyes searching Fury's face for answers.
"No. Asgard is unthreatened, as far as we know," came the Director's reply. "This is about your brother."
Thor went rigid, his voice taut with supressed emotion. "Loki is dead. He gave his life so that I might live. He died honorably. You all know this. Why do you speak of him?"
Fury raised his hands apologetically. "This doesn't concern him directly. This pertains more to his followers."
Thor nodded hesitantly, signaling his wish that Fury continue.
The man on the screen shifted slightly, preparing to debrief.
"Thor, there have been whispers through our system suggesting the existence of an organized party of sympathizers for your brother's cause. Loki did not make enemies of the entire human race. There are those sick sons of bitches out there who love your brother, who wanted to be enslaved."
"Kinky." Stark muttered. Tash slapped the back of his head. "Oww, mom!" She glared. He was silent again.
Fury didn't notice and continued on. "These sympathizers call themselves the 'New Era'. They preach radicalism to their followers about the benefits of having the earth under the control of such an advanced race. They are small, but they are armed. They made their first demonstration of that power last night."
"What happened last night?" Steve raised his eyebrows.
"Between the hours of 0:1:00 and 0:3:00 early this morning, the New Era made their world debut as a militant force. They raided a SHIELD compound, killing six of my agents, all in the name of Loki. What they want is to draw the attention of Asgard – specifically Thor. They believe that if they can draw out the God of Thunder, his brother will show up as well, vanquish Thor, and reward their efforts with a one way ticket home to Asgard." Fury's tone at the end was beyond exasperation. He was right. These people were nuts.
Thor just scoffed. "Are they simple? Are they daft beyond reason? Firstly, my brother is gone. Gone. Their antics will not bring him back. Secondly," He rumbled, "You cannot lure the mighty Thor into a trap! Midgard is tarnished by the existence of these morons! We should dispose of them! Lock them in your dungeons! Put them – "
Fury stopped him. "Thor, I'm sorry to say that it has already worked. They already have you in the trap, because there is nothing I can say to stop you from going once you know what happened. But I have to tell you because you," he gestured to the team, "are the only group of individuals who can complete the mission."
Thor was visibly puzzled. "Yes, they killed your warriors, and for your sake and theirs I mourn and demand justice. But what, pray tell, could they have done as to entrap me so?"
Fury closed his one eye and rubbed at his temple. The man was exhausted. "It's not what they did – it's what they took."
The team waited in anticipation.
"The compound they stormed was a lab, and inside was everything we know about the nine realms: the bifrost, the weaponry - everything. The New Era took all the research – and they also took SHIELD's leading researcher in Astrophysics: the one human on the planet who knows how to work an Einstein-Rosen Bridge." The older man paused, looking at Thor warily for his understanding.
He saw understanding, alright. Thor was absolutely pale with rage. His mouth opened and closed, but no words escaped. The rest of the team took longer to comprehend, but when they did, they all looked at the Norse God in shock.
Fury confirmed their fears with a sentence that left a haunting echo in Thor's mind:
"They took Jane Foster."
It had taken the team almost 30 minutes to get Thor onto the Quinjet. He had been absolutely sizzling with rage, threatening to flatten half the city. And sizzling literally. Static had been coming off him in waves. Tash's hair was a bright red, frizzled afro whenever she got too close to the Thunder God; so, needless to say, she was not pleased he was riding next to her. Usually, the team would have Thor fly alongside the Jet, but they wanted him contained. There was no telling what he would do if he got there before the rest of the team.
The rest of the debriefing had occurred on the quin over the comm system. Details of the New Era base, the outlying terrain – every member had absorbed as much information as they could. Steve had roughly an hour to come up with a plan before the jet landed. To his credit, he had formulated one in under twenty minutes. It was a classic Steve Rogers get-in-get-out kind of setup.
Hawkeye perches, eye in the sky, providing cover for team and incapacitating stragglers to wait for SHIELD containment to arrest them.
Iron Man blasts exterior defenses, opens compound door – set beams to stun.
Captain America, Widow, and Thor storm compound, followed by SHIELD containment battalion.
Cap takes first floor, Widow takes second floor, and Thor takes the third floor (Jane?)
Secure the package, arrest the New Era.
Eat Schawarma.
Besides the last bullet that Stark had added, the plan was very cut and dry. The Avengers were under strict orders to arrest as many members of the radical group as possible. SHIELD needed to know where they got their weapons, how they had found Jane, so on so forth. If there were holes in the organization's security, they needed to be found and plugged.
For this reason, lethal force was only to be permitted if the battle took a turn for the worst, and it became a kill-or-be-killed situation. Everyone had nodded in agreement – Thor included. Frankly, he was, for once, not interested in the fight itself; he just wanted Jane safe in his arms.
Jane. The very thought of her made him shut his eyes against the nausea and panic building in his chest. They could be doing anything to her – starving her, beating her, cutting her - or worse. Scenes of hellish torture ran through the thunder god's mind. When he opened his eyes again, they were as black as the storm clouds he so easily conjured that morning.
Revenge would be his.
The quinjet landed silently in the dark woods two miles from the base. If SHIELD estimations were correct, the New Era did not have enough men to patrol this far out. Most would be within sight of the compound wall.
That made everything much easier.
The Team, followed very distantly by a platoon of 30 SHIELD containment officers, made the short trek to the forest's edge. The lights of the base were likely just stolen lampposts. The barbed wire was old and rusted, and the doors were lined with a wall of sandbags.
Tony, the weapons and defense expert, scoffed indignantly. He was insulted by their lack of prowess in militant landscaping. His condescension swiftly ceased upon spotting their weapons, however. Each patrolman carried not one, but two of the most high tech semi-automatic assault weapons on the market. Tony recognized the logo immediately: HammerTech. Justin, you prick. Even from prison, he was making Tony's life harder. Regardless, the weapons made one thing very clear:
The New Era was prepare to use deadly force without hesitation.
Clint found himself gripping his arrows tightly, feeling (per usual) like a batshit crazy robin hood who brought a bow to a machine gun fight. Widow, who always seems to know exactly what everyone is thinking, nudged him in reassurance.
He nodded back.
Good talk.
Steve shifted from his crouched position in the bushes. Hawkeye's hearing aids, which he had turned up past normal volume for the stealth mission, caught the sound and looked sharply over at his leader. Steve nodded and gave him a series of hand signals. Phase 1. Show time.
Barton soundlessly unfolded himself from his cover, looked around himself for a few seconds, and picked a vantage point: a solid pine tree with strong low branches that would be an easy and noiseless climb. He slung his bow across his back perpendicular to his quiver and began his ascent, his stealth suit of blacks and olive greens blending perfectly into the canopy. He was seamless, and after a minute, he reached his perch. He sent a signal on his watch down to Steve's communicator. Everyone was in position.
Iron Man shut down his external comm and whispered into his helmet, JARVIS typed out his words and texted them to Hawkeye.
"Hey fluffernutter, don't fall asleep and lose your perch. I'm not carrying you back to the quinjet when you break your leg."
Hawkeye's reply was a beautifully aimed pinecone that hit Tony square on the helmet with a small clank. Tony huffed and typed away.
"You chickenfucker."
Hawkeye almost blew their cover with his laughter, but he contained himself. Tony, with a very cheeky grin on his face, caught Cap's glance of fatherly disapproval.
"Ugh, sorry Dad. I'll go outside and play now." Steve just shook his head, unwilling to let Stark see his smirk. He didn't want to encourage him, after all.
Tony stood up, clear and shiny for all the world to see and blasted up and away. The compound's searchlights fixed on him and orders were being screamed from the upper battlements. Men ran across ramparts and guns were being fired into the dark sky at the flaming red, gold, and silver target. Tony was quick to draw fire away from where his teammates remained hidden, but he certainly was enjoying himself otherwise.
Loudly into the comms, Tony began humming a Strauss Waltz as he fired his repulsor beams.
"La da da da da!"
Pew Pew,
Pew Pew.
"La da dum da da."
Pew Pew,
Pew Pew.
"La da da duuum daaaaa, La da Dee! La da – "
"Stark, knock it off." Widow was checking and rechecking her handguns in anticipation for the compound entrance to be blasted to pebbles. "Hurry up and open the door."
"Ugh, yes ma'am. You're no fun at all, you know that? You should drink more, it does – "
A grunt, and a few more shots.
"- Absolute wonders for my sense of – "
A larger blast, followed by the sound of cascading rocks.
" – Optimism!" Tony breathed deep. "The door is open for you, m'lady."
Steve's voice reigned supreme over the network. "Phase Three is a go. Widow, floor Two. Thor, Floor Three. I've got First floor. On my mark."
Steve waited one second, two seconds, took a steadying breath, and shoved off from the ground, shield out and fists ready. Widow stayed on his 6, and Thor flew ahead, knocking men unconscious with a single swing, but checking his strength appropriately.
A hoard of armed men met them at the door, but Widow had them down in seconds with well-placed shots to the legs and shoulders. Steve was throwing punches left right and center, and Thor was certainly taking out his frustrations. Soon, the lobby was clear, and each member, breathing heavily but full of energy and adrenaline, nodded in unison and separated to undertake their individual tasks. Steve ran down a hallway to his left, Tash began her ascent up to the next story.
Thor didn't even bother with stairs, but instead took his hammer to the ceiling and blasted through the second and third floor. He would find Jane, and the monster responsible for all of this madness.
Tony was just handing the last man to the containment unit when he saw Thor blast upwards in the foyer. Show off, Tony thought wryly. Barton was still in the tree, of course, but he was hanging easily from a branch with his legs swinging in the breeze, enjoying himself. He had only fired four or five arrows to tie up a few fleeing legs, and other than that his night had been rather unexciting. He kept yelling down to Tony during round up about coming to get him because he didn't want to climb down.
"What, you afraid of heights, Barton?" Tony playfully yelled back.
"No, asshat. I'm just saying on the way up here I got pine sap all over me. I'd rather not have a repeat showering of it on the way down." As if to emphasize his point, he picked dramatically at the sticky mats encrusted in his dirty blonde hair.
Tony sighed, "Alright, Princess Featherface. I'll be up to carry you down from your ivory tower in just one moment." Tony couldn't help but chuckle at Barton's smug smile. He lowered his faceplate, boosted up to the top of the pine tree, and grabbed Clint by the quiver strap. They both knew it would hold his weight – Tony had designed it himself. Tony cut power and lowered them to the ground gently but quickly, setting the archer firmly on his feet.
"Thanks pal." Clint genuinely patted him on the back of the suit. Sometimes, the two sarcastic lil shits got to have nice moments as friends where they weren't always insulting each other. Those moments were nice.
But this was not one of those moments.
"Don't mention it, pal. Actually, do mention it. Mention it to the world. Cuz I had JARVIS take a video of me rescuing you like a kitten from a tree, and its already on my Twitter, my Instagram, my Tumblr, my Snap Story, My Faceb-"
"YOU BASTARD!"
"I emailed it to BuzzFeed, Good Morning America, Oprah, Ellen-"
"I WILL KILL YOU, TONY!"
"ha-HA!"
Tony was dodging Barton's fisticuffs when he saw them – massive storm clouds sweeping in out of nowhere. They were blacker than black, and roiling with potential. Very dangerous potential.
"Thor." Both men said in unison, reaching an immediate and grave understanding. Barton began sprinting across the yard and into the compound; Tony took a direct approach and flew straight at the third floor, crashing into a window. He rolled across the floor and came up in a fighting stance. He raised his head and braced himself for the battle that he assumed Thor must be busily fighting – but the sight that met him was much worse.
Thor was standing completely unmoving, his hammer raised in front of him like a gun, steady and unshaking as if it weighed nothing. He was at the entrance to the long room. The other end of the room contained a scrawny rat of a gentleman situated behind a whimpering and bruised Jane Foster. She was gagged by a dirty cloth, and bound to a cast iron chair. She was strong, Tony could see. She was whimpering for Thor, not out of pain or panic. Her eyes, though blotchy and exhausted, held no sign of hysterics or anguish, only pride and anger - and now, at the sight of her boyfriend holding a weapon to her captor, pure vengeful glee.
Tony could see why Thor liked her so much. Hell, Tony already liked her and they hadn't even been formally introduced.
The man standing behind Jane was obviously the fixation of Thor's rage. He was boldly using Jane as a human shield. However, the man looked ready to shit his pants at the sight of Tony Stark's Iron Man. His beady little eyes flicked back and forth from the two Avengers, his tongue darting out to moisten his dry and cracked lips. His forehead was sweaty and his hair was greasy. Tony was almost insulted.
'Here we are, taking all this time to come and beat you,' he thought sardonically, 'and you can't even be bothered to take a shower?' Tony shook his head slowly. They just don't make villains like they used to.
It was Thor, now, that Tony turned to. He raised his faceplate, making direct eye contact with his teammate. "Alright, Thor. We got him. Good work, and all that. I'll radio down for SHIELD Containment. Go get your girlfriend." But Thor didn't move. His eyes barely spared the moments to blink, as if the perpetrator of all this would disappear if he wasn't under constant vigilance.
"Look, Man of iron." Thor pushed out between gritted teeth. "Look what they did to my Jane." At Thor's words, Ms. Foster whimpered louder, desperate for Thor to come get her. Tony turned and really studied her. Yikes. Bruises around her neck, cuts near her hairline. Jane's Knuckles were bruised and crusted with dried blood – she put up a fight. The purple swollen lump on her left temple suggested that she had lost that fight rather quickly, though. Tony was sympathetic to both sides. He knew what it was like to be beaten and tortured. But he also understood Thor's feelings. Tony couldn't imagine what he would be like if it was Pepper sitting there. He took a steadying breath. The engineer highly doubted he would have been able to demonstrate as much control as Thor had to this point. If that was Pep, the bastard would be dead.
"Thor, I know what you want to do. I even believe that it would be kinda the right thing to do." Tony eyed the god warily. "But we have our orders. Look at him. He is a coward – 153% loser. He is a little slimy worm. He's not worth the effort. Let him sit in a prison and rot. That's all he's good for, anyway." Thor's arm wavered, and his eyes blinked unevenly. Tony was getting through to him. "That's right buddy, let it go, ok? We have Jane, and she's safe. Go to her, I'll take care of the scumbag. He's a piece of shit anyway. We can beat the crap out of him later, but for now, let him live." Thor nodded briskly, conflicting emotions visible on his face. Tony's shoulders sagged in relief. That had been a close call.
Tony crossed the room steadily and glowered over the weasel, grabbing him painfully by the arm and throwing his groveling form to the floor. "Get up." Stark's voice was threatening. "And get moving. Out the door."
At that moment, Tony naively thought that everyone would make it out of there without a problem. Of course, as usual with that sort of thinking, he was wrong. Everything would have gone to plan, of course, if it hadn't been for that New Era prick.
Everything would have gone fine if that guy hadn't picked that moment to look up at Thor. Thor watched in horror as the man absorbed the sight of his battered Jane, looked back at the Norseman, and smiled with bone-chilling sadistic glee. He was sending a message to Thor: Look what I did.
Tony really couldn't blame Thor for losing it at that point - but what he wasn't expecting was for the Norse God to ignite in rage and spin his hammer around his head. The storm outside shattered the remaining windows with the magnitude of the thunder that hailed down upon them. Poor Hawkeye, who had just made it to the landing, cried out in pain and fumbled in his ears to turn off his hearing aids. He stumbled shakily into the room just in time to see Thor thrust his hammer outwards towards the villain. Lightning welled in the handle of Mjolnir and shot out its face, sending a blue strike of crackling energy towards the man's chest. There was no doubt about it, this was a fatal blow.
But the lightning never touched him.
Instead, it dove deep, in the way that only electricity can, into a titanium alloy suit that had thrown itself directly into the path of the bolt. It wormed its way into circuits, frying everything it touched. The power delved down into fluids and hydraulics, shattering pistons and evaporating lines. It grazed its way over skin and living organisms and excited the cells until they were red hot, burning and singing, and then it found its way to soft tissue – organs, pulses, and so much water…so much conductivity. The stream of lightning stopped almost as soon as it was fired, but the effects lasted so much longer. The power swam through the blood supply, shocking and stalling everything it brushed past. The scent of destruction filled its host's nostrils, sending the aroma of burning flesh and boiling blood sifting mercilessly into his receptors – but then the receptors were fried as well.
The zap dissolved into a shock which dissolved into a buzz with dissolved into a tingle. But nobody was around to feel the power dissipate. Tony Stark's heart had already stopped.
Hawkeye couldn't move, couldn't talk, and couldn't breathe.
Tony.
The scene before him played out as what his friends would call a "silent movie". To Clint, the natural state of life was silent, and usually he found a deep sense of relaxation when he removed his hearing aids.
But somehow, God…. Watching what was happening…and in complete silence? It was the most unsettling thing the assassin had ever witnessed.
The lightning just – it just engulfed him. Like a sentient hunger that clung and fed. It hit him so fast, a burst of light and sparks, and it wracked Tony's body. Clint doubted that Tony was even conscious when he let out the strangled cry that passed his lips milliseconds after contact. Barton couldn't hear the scream, but he saw the engineer's mouth contort into a gruesome agony.
He was glad his world was on mute.
Clint watched in silence as Tony writhed on the ground, coming to absolute stillness. He felt the vibrations of Steve and Natasha sprinting up the stairs at the outburst. It must have been incredibly loud.
Barton didn't even realize he was running forward until he painfully collapsed to his knees at Tony's side. He immediately grabbed the suit, searching for the small automatic unlock switches that had saved Tony time and time again. He should have thought that motion through, for when his fleshy finger touched the titanium alloy, he got a very unpleasant shock that send pain shooting up his arm. Clint gulped. If that was just a fraction of what Tony had felt… He shivered.
Clint felt the pounding on the floor, and turned to see Steve and Nat running towards them. Nat's red curls were bouncing up and down, shifting as she turned her head to take in the scene. Clint could remember before she had cut her hair. He thought wistfully about the time she had let him practice braiding her hair so he would get it right on his daughters. Why was he thinking about that now? What was going on? Nat?
He looked up at her, and met her eyes in confusion. He looked back down at Tony.
"Tony?" he choked out. Strange not being able to hear your own voice as you speak. He felt Nat drag him away from Tony's body – NO do NOT say body, Clint. The archer reprimanded himself. A body implies that he's gone, that there isn't anything left in it, that he's just a…a body. A shell.
"Tony… Tony isn't a shell, Nat…" he felt himself cry out hoarsely. "He's not a shell!"
Nat sat in front of him, pulling him to the ground. She patted his cheek roughly, restricting his view of Tony. She said something to him, but he couldn't focus enough to read her lips. Nat waited for a response, and when it didn't come she realized her mistake. She signed to him quickly:
"Tony is going to be fine, don't worry, Clint. I promise."
Clint's hands were shaking too badly for him to sign back, but he nodded in understanding. He didn't even realize he had been crying until Tash stretched an arm out and wiped a stray tear from his cheek.
Widow hadn't ever seen Barton go into shock. It was scaring her, seeing her closest friend and steadfast partner crying and mumbling to himself. He had no idea what was going on, he had made that very clear. He just knew Tony was hurt, and doubtless, he had been there when it happened. That was most likely what brought on his current state.
Tash knew that she would be of no use to Tony crowding him. Steve's gloves had a rubber polymer base, and he could remove the suit without getting any current transference. He was the safest bet. She turned her head to glance at the Norse God. Thor was against the wall, hammer dropped at his feet, obviously appalled at what he had done. While Tash didn't blame him for anything (she had very quickly deduced that it had been an accident) she couldn't help but be a little glad that Thor was guilty. He deserved it a little bit.
Tash left an incoherent Hawkeye in the corner and jogged quickly across the floor to untie the girl from the chair. She could only assume that this was the civilian scientist, Jane. Jane's eyes were locked on Thor, reflecting his pain at what he had done. However, much to her own credit and Widow's approving glance, Jane stood up the moment she was untied and rushed to her boyfriend's side. She was so small compare to him, her olive tone skin and dark hair a deep contrast to the Norse God.
"It wasn't your fault, Thor. Honey, it wasn't your fault." She embraced him, and he couldn't help but snap out of it, drawing her in close to him, holding on to her for dear life, and planting gentle kisses to the top of her head. But he never quite took his eyes off of his unmoving comrade on the floor. Steve had radioed for SHIELD medical immediately upon clearing the third landing, and the medivac unit was already upstairs spreading out their equipment on the floor.
One medic bent his head down to Stark's chest, listened intently, and shouted orders.
"Code Blue, Pads!" The woman on his right handed him the portable defibrillator. Another medic whipped out a pair of medical scissors. He swiftly cut Stark's shirt right down the middle, revealing his bare chest and a dimming arc reactor.
The medics hesitated for only a moment before swiftly placing the stick-on fibrillation pads around the sides of the arc reactor and Tony's left upper rib cage.
"Prepare to Shock." A medic announced, charging the machine.
"Clear." All hands went up and off, Tony's body arched grotesquely into the air, and he collapsed back into the suit like a wet fish. It was terrifying. Tash went to stand with Steve, and she could tell that he hardly noticed her presence. She placed an around his waist, trying to comfort him. He leaned into it. She stole a glance at his face and saw tears brimming in his eyes. The assassin turned back to their friend on the ground, and now that she was closer, she audibly gasped – something incredibly rare for the usually stoic Russian.
Stark's bare chest was a tragically beautiful striping of lightning tattoos – the red and white bolts lashed across his sternum and stomach. The burns were undoubtedly serious, but it was impossible not to be awestruck in a morbid appreciation at their patterns. If Stark wakes up –
No, she corrected herself. When Stark wakes up, he's going to love those scars.
She tried to smile at the thought, but she couldn't bring herself to. The smell of Tony's singed hair was reaching her nose. Nat turned her head away – she couldn't bear to look any longer at the burned husk of their fellow avenger. She tucked her head into Steve's shoulder. She listened to cycle after cycle of the medics attempting to resuscitate Tony. If she heard "Clear" one more time, she might vomit.
Just as everyone was about to give up hope, the female medic halted all movement with a shout. Tash whipped her head around to see what was occurring. The blonde medic pressed her ear to Tony's sternum. She held it there for what seemed like years, but what couldn't have been more than a few seconds.
"I have arrhythmia," she declared, reaching around her for the neck brace. They strapped Tony into the board, pulling him out of the suit carefully but quickly, and gave him ventilation. Before Steve could get a word or a question in edgewise over their medical jargon, they were gone. The two watched from the window as Tony was loaded onto a medivac helicopter and whisked away into the night. It was quite a dramatic exit. Stark would have appreciated it, had he been conscious.
"They have…arrhythmia?" Steve whispered to Widow. The Russian coughed, trying to clear the lump in her throat.
"They…They have a heartbeat. But it's not a good one. The arrhythmia means his heart is trying to regain its electrical pulses. The shock was so bad that it threw off his natural clock. His heart is beating irregularly. It's 50/50, Steve. They can fix it, or…"
"Or?"
"Or his heart will give out in a matter of days."
There was silence. Complete silence. It was broken only by the rustling of Barton's pants on the wooden floor as he rocked back and forth in the corner. Then it was broken by an Asgardian.
"I…I am so sorry." It was the quietest voice they had ever heard Thor use. His face looked ashen, his guilt was a visible weight upon his shoulders. The man was almost broken.
Steve shuffled over to him. "Thor, my friend," Captain America used the comforting Asgardian custom of placing a hand on Thor's cheek, cupping his face sternly but not roughly. "We do not blame you. Don't blame yourself." And with that, Thor nodded, and breathed deep; he was visibly comforted by both Jane's gentle kiss to his neck and his leader's words. Just as an extra measure, and in an attempt to lighten the mood, Steve added: "And that's an order." Thor smiled slightly, nodded again, bowed his head to Natasha, and led his Jane out the door and down the steps. They made it several feet before the astrophysicist, exhausted and in shock, stumbled slightly. Without a word, Thor scooped her into his arms. She started to argue, but stopped herself, basking in his closeness. Steve watched them descend the steps, a single tear rolling down Jane's smooth cheek into the collarbone of her lover. She was nuzzled securely, and Rogers doubted that Thor would not have let go of her for anything at that moment.
Steve drew himself out of the thought and turned to the Russian, who was crouched beside their shaken archer.
"Is he hurt, Tash?"
"In shock. Physically fine." She stood, sighing deeply. "I'll get him down to medical to get checked out. Get him one of those ridiculous blankets." She bent down again, whispering and tugging at the archer. She got him shakily to his feet, hooked her arm around him, and supported him out the door and down the stairs.
Steve was alone. Almost.
Turning dangerously to the far side of the room, Steve took in the pathetic mass before him. The man who had started it all. He had kept quiet in the corner, hoping people wouldn't notice him. Boy, had he thought wrong.
"I'll bet," Steve's voice had an edge to it that was so deadly, he was glad the rest of his team wasn't there to hear it. "I'll bet that you sat there this whole time hoping we would just forget about you. Is that right?" the man said nothing, just sunk back further into the corner.
"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION." Steve closed the gap between them in two strides, rage in his eyes and hatred in his voice. He hadn't been this mad since…since…
A sudden image of Bucky, strapped to a table, half-starved and blatantly abused, plowed its way into Steve's forethought. The flashback made him gasp. He remembered finding his best friend caged up and experimented on like an animal. The only reason he had been able to contain his rage back then was because he had to focus on saving Buck.
But now, right now, Stark was already safe. He was on his way to the hospital.
So this bastard was about to feel the brunt of a lot of anger.
Steve threw his shield to the floor. He grabbed the man by the lapels and brought him to his feet and beyond. The slimy little creature was about six inches off the ground, grasping at his shirt collar and Captain America's unwavering hand.
" .You. ." Steve punctuated. "Did you think we would just forget about you?"
The man gurgled and thrashed in a panic. He nodded spastically.
"Well, that was your first mistake." Steve raised him higher. "I never forget a bully."
Steve shriveled his nose in disgust as a dark stain spread down the whimpering man's pants. This was disgusting. This poor excuse for a human was disgusting.
"Who are you?" The man gurgled again. "DO NOT make me ask twice."
"My-My n-name is S-Snyder. J-Jim Snyder."
"And are you in charge here, Jim Snyder?" There was so much venom in Steve's voice, but he couldn't care less.
"Y-Yes. I am th-the Commander o-of the New Era. W-We worship Loki, for h-he is all that is mighty and supreme. H-He shall bring the human race forward into a new dawn, a new age of greatness through servitude, and all th – "
His speech was getting more radical and fervent as he went on, but Steve had had quite enough already.
"I don't really give a damn." He shook the man slightly, still off the ground. "Do you understand what you did here? The good men you killed? The good man that you didn't deserve to have save you? And he did it because it was his job." Steve was getting louder and louder. "That man is a hero. He jumped in front of certain death just to save a mewling, pathetic lump like you." Steve spit at the man's feet. "And all you can do is wet yourself and spew a load of crap about an ego-maniacal lunatic who descended from the heavens and tried to enslave the human race? Well, let me tell you, buddy," Steve gave the bastard another harsh shake. "I've met your precious Loki, and he's nothing but a pouty little brat who can't decide whether he wants to piss or get off the pot."
A cool, melodious voice sang its way into Steve's ears, sending a dagger of ice into his heart, dread doused his rage, and Steve turned his head, all-too-aware of the reverent expression blossoming on Snyder's face.
"Now, now, good Captain." The voice was Shakespearean, articulate, and eloquent. "Is that really a fair judgment? After all, we've hardly had a real opportunity to become acquainted with one another."
Steve threw his captive to the ground, turning slowly on the spot. He faced the new occupant in the room – one who certainly wasn't supposed to be there. According to Thor, he had died months ago. But sure enough, in his green and gold serpentine suit, stood the god of mischief himself.
Steve's throat was dry, his nerves were tensed.
"Loki."
HOLY SHIT, RIGHT? Ok so I had way too much fun with this chapter, I'm sorry. Part two will be out momentarily!
REVIEW, YOU FREELOADERS!
