Holy crap, thank you Kae Richa for your three reviews! Not to mention your willingness to navigate a whole new fandom in order to read my writing. That's seriously flattering. So, so many thanks.

This was a hard chapter to write, and you'll see why later. But it needed to be done and the scene was horribly fun to write.

Disclaimer: I own nothing under copyright. I do own Concepcion, Bryan, and Taffy.

Chapter 6: Brain Damage

"All God does is watch us and kill us when we get boring. We must never, ever be boring."

― Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

The days were a systematic blur of strength and speed training combined with martial arts, often interrupted sleep, and a systematic test of who would be driven to murder or suicide first. Within two weeks, three people had no choice but to bow out.

Tony himself was an expert on being perfectly functional with little sleep. So when he did knock out and the group was woken in the middle of the night as a test, he managed with little difficulty. The rest of the Avengers were similar, though the severity and volume of their complaints varied greatly from zero (Nat) to nearly getting his face rearranged (Clint).

Four weeks in, things were getting ridiculous. Everyone besides the Avengers were in a constant stupor, only staying awake and functional through the magic that is coffee and power naps. It was close enough to their usual on-call schedule that the Avengers didn't have much of a problem, but the sinking morale of the facility itself was getting to be one.

That was probably why Tony hacked into the intercom system right before lunch, snickering the whole time. They needed a little fun right now.

When he danced his way into the cafeteria, singing along to "Dancing Queen", everything stopped.

That didn't bother Tony one bit. He relished in being the center of attention and grabbed Clint by his jacket to dance along.

Luckily, Hawkass went with it. He even had some pretty good moves, including lifting Tony up like a figure skater over his head.

The rest of the room watched, dumbfounded, as two of the most capable and experienced fighters of the lot finished with a flourish and a dip. That was a different view of the room, Tony thought, as he hoped that he wouldn't be dropped. It always hurt to fall on his head, no matter how many times it happened.

The music stopped and there was silence so complete that Tony was reminded of the zero decibel room that he had only been able to stand for three minutes. He was hoisted to his feet and took a bow, grin firmly in place.

That was when the first startled applause broke out. Gradually people got into it until there was actually a standing ovation, beginning with Steve. The smile on his face lit up the damn room.

Until Colonel Wright came in. Then everything went quiet again. He was one of those that no one in their right mind wanted to be around more than necessary, more tolerated with gritted teeth than respected by the students. Or the staff.

"Good performance," he complimented, smiling at Tony and then Clint. That wasn't a good sign.

Both Avengers traded looks. What was the punishment going to be for this?

"It looks like we're not working the two of you hard enough. I expect an extra half mile run and a thirty rep set from each of you by the end of the day, gentlemen," Wright said almost pleasantly before he left again.

When it was just the students again, Clint smacked Tony on the back of the head. "Way to go, Shellhead," the archer commented sarcastically.

It was taken with a grin and trip to the serving area. From the renewed cheer of the room, Tony's little routine did exactly what he meant it to.

That was the turning point in the spirits of their classmates. Where before they had been gloomy and constantly tired, their ropes fraying fast, now there was a hint of mischief everywhere. From smart quips to all the kwoon staffs being mysteriously arranged into a jungle gym one morning (Tony was sure that was Taffy's fault), they became determined to find fun wherever it might be to balance out the grueling training.

Then on week nine, "Black Widow Baby" began blasting through the intercom when Nat walked into the cafeteria. With a smirk she sauntered to the serving area and got her food, fully in time with the song.

In awe, Tony watched until the woman was sitting beside Clint at the end. He looked her straight in the eye, quirked an eyebrow, and said, "This is war."

Even as Steve facepalmed, Nat replied nonchalantly, "I expect nothing less."

Oh, it was on. Even as Steve asked them to please not do anything they would be kicked out for (like repetitively hacking the servers just to play their theme songs as they entered a room) Tony plotted ways to get maximum impact out of his turn.

The next day, Tony had it timed right to the second: when he began his first combat match, "Shoot to Thrill" poured out of the speakers. Needless to say, he won by the time the song finished.

Two days after that Clint walked into the Kwoon room to the title theme of a children's tv show they had found out was about a superhero named Hawkeye. By now, even Major Thompson knew just to sigh and get on with it.

That Friday, Tony sneaked into the lunchroom at the end of the rush. By now it was easy to get into the intercoms and sneak away before he was caught. He had to keep from snickering to himself as Concepcion wondered when Steve was going to get to his "theme song", or if he even knew how to get into the sound system. She got her answer quickly.

The first notes blared and the Americans automatically jumped to their feet, hands over their hearts.

Only Nat and Tony stayed sitting, the former giving the latter a disbelieving look. It was met with a wink.

Steve entered the room to "The Star Spangled Banner", shield in hand and big goofy grin on his face. That night he was unofficially voted as having the best theme song, right ahead of Hawkass.

For a week or so, everything settled down as far as their pranks and contests went. Of course Tony kept mouthing off and Nat constantly freaked everyone out by appearing from nowhere. Steve kept defying the meaning of the word impossible just to make everyone question their eyes and Clint made everyone wonder if the base was haunted through his habit of going through the ventilation, often using it to get into the officers' rooms and mess with their possessions.

Training kept amping up. Now they were learning basic fencing, which for Tony was a breeze. He had grown up doing this kind of shit. It was a rich people thing.

Then, one day, a projector began playing a clip he forgot he had stored in his phone. "Who's strong and brave, here to save the American way?" showgirls sang as a man in tights and a stupid winged helmet made a speech about buying war bonds. It was like a train wreck, no one could peel their eyes off the video.

When the doors opened to admit Steve during the chorus, he went red in the face and slipped straight back out of the room. Look who wouldn't be going to lunch today out of sheer embarrassment.

It was Tony's turn to give Nat a look, asking what the hell she thought she was doing.

The bewildered shrug she gave was convincing. It might have even been real.

Only after Wright sarcastically began referring to Steve as Captain America did Tony figure out who did it: Clint broke down howling with laughter at the look on the bigger blonde's face.

The next day just in time for dinner, Tony rigged up a video of Clint swinging off various buildings to the tune of, "I'm a bird, motherfucker."

Tony's confrontation with Loki as seen from the tower's cameras was shown two days later, with strategic words bleeped out. "Please tell me you're here to appeal to my humanity," Loki chuckled. "Uh, actually I'm here to (bleep) you," his film self replied, falsely nonchalant, to gasps and laughter from the jaeger academy students. "You should have left your armor on for that," Loki replied with a sinister smirk.

And so it went.

By the end of the second semester, a new, creatively edited, and increasingly embarrassing video clip was regarded as standard meal entertainment. Only Steve didn't get involved beyond shockingly evil suggestions, as he had no idea about the programs needed. It didn't mean he got away squeaky clean.

Near the end of the second semester the academy cut nearly a quarter of the class. They could go on to be Shatterdome support staff, but they were considered unfit for piloting. Mai left happily, wishing the Avengers, Concepcion, and Taffy well in their ambitions. Unfortunately, Bryan was kept on.

The brain scans were weird, with the doctors tutting and heatedly whispering over the results Tony gave. He smirked as he overheard comments about difficulty finding a partner.

Personality testing was hellish. They all came out emotionally and mentally drained, even Nat. She was just better at hiding it than the rest of them.

Tony's turn had not been pleasant. Of course, he knew what the results would say: arrogant, self obsessed, genius, playboy, distrusting and disrespectful of authority figures, attention seeking. What he didn't expect to see when Nat kidnapped the files was the stamp of approval under the words tactical, innovative, charismatic, confident, extraordinary resilience, emotionally damaged, paranoid, anxious, daredevil. It almost left him speechless.

These people really went in depth, he saw when he took a peek at the other files Nat borrowed without permission. Of course her remarkable emotional control and cold rationality were mentioned, but so were the emotional scars "remarkably similar to child soldiers deployed in sub-Saharan Africa". Clint was called far seeing and an instinctive combatant but unimaginative.

When he got to Steve's report, Tony slowed down and at the end raised an eyebrow. "Is there anything we should know, El Capitan?" he asked leadingly.

"Hm?" Steve asked as he pored through Clint's folder.

"Captain Rogers is a tactical genius on par with the greatest minds in history," Tony read out, "and prefers to lead from the front in a command structure that inspires loyalty to each other as well as the cause he fights for. However, this leads him to take unorthodox and self-sacrificing risks that may be a remnant of survivor's guilt. Regularly scheduled mental health checks advised due to possible suicidal behavior." The psychologists here really didn't mince their words.

The captain had the audacity to give him that butter won't melt in my mouth smile. "You know me, I always end up doing things that would be suicide for normal people. They don't know I have the serum," he pointed out sensibly.

It was lucky they were in a rather large, deserted office, Tony thought. If anyone knew they had these folders, they would be in deep shit.

"Are you suicidal?" Clint asked bluntly, concern obvious as he looked at their leader.

This time, Steve's smile was more genuine. "No," he denied, looking from one face to the next, stopping at Tony's, "Not anymore."

The inventor was sure his heart tried to beat straight through his arc reactor.

They all went back to reading, accepting Steve's answer at face value. Though Tony was sure he wasn't the only one who realized that the Avengers were what pulled the world's first superhero back from the edge.

Then came drift sync testing and pons training, and they were all thrown for a loop. The simulations and their results were unsurprising for the Avengers; they were used to fighting things much bigger than them and winning. Also unsurprising was that Tony adjusted the quickest, having years of experience as the pilot of a suit of power armor under his belt.

What was a shock, especially for Steve, was how quickly the man out of time adjusted to this new method of combat. Where he usually wondered with frustration why there were so many buttons, the sim had him calling attacks and pressing options like it was second nature. The one thing that really got in his way, and Nat's, was having to wait for the armor to keep up with their movements.

He still set the record for fastest kill without weapons at five minutes, thirty one seconds.

It was after his twenty sixth drop (and twenty sixth kill) within the simulation that he was taken for drift compatibility testing. The room he entered was much like the other labs, Steve thought, with scientists running around everywhere and a multitude of machinery. When he looked at who he was being tried against he couldn't help smiling. "How are you?" he asked.

Taffy grinned shyly up at him, then went back to gazing around with wonder in his eyes. "Amazed I actually made it this far," he admitted, blinking rapidly a couple of times. He was still getting used to wearing contacts instead of the coke bottle glasses he had arrived with.

"I know what you mean," Steve replied with a little smile. Of course he did. That was how he felt in his entire time at Camp Leigh in 1943.

They were soon herded into a pair of chairs that looked like the unholy love child of a dentist's chair and a salon hair dryer. The domes were fixed over their heads by technicians as the lead scientist told them what to expect.

"You've already trained yourselves into ignoring the RABIT's and getting past triggers," she said in a no nonsense tone, "Now it's time to see if you can handle the backlog of each other's RABIT's."

That was the one area Steve had trouble with, he admitted with chagrin. The first couple of times his connection to the machine had been too strong and Tony had to hack in to shut it down. But he had learned the tricks of the trade. Surprisingly, the training helped him control his nightmares as well.

The equipment was set up and the lead scientist instructed them to tell her if they feel any pain.

"Five, four, three, two, one," another scientist counted down.

The sudden pull into Steve's own mind made him automatically panic (though nowhere near as bad as Clint had) but he clamped a handle on it before the machinery could be affected. Instead he focused on letting memories flow through his mind's eye, pictures with no sound. That some of these weren't his was a curiosity, but he forced himself to not engage.

It seemed like the bridge was going well. Then they got to the memories of Project Rebirth and it all went haywire.

Pain wracked Taffy's mind, which flooded over to Steve's and back around in an ever increasing feedback loop. Even when they were past that, it only got worse. The perceptions of Captain America were too intense, a normal mind unable to handle the influx of sensory information. Taffy's brain was overloading and even as Steve was viewing his memories of the Howling Commandos, then the ice, he could hear the other man screaming.

Through sheer force of will Steve yanked back, separated himself from the shorter blonde despite that it made his brain burn. He handled it with gritted teeth. No pain had ever been as intense as what happened during Project Rebirth and this didn't change that.

The pons training machine was shut down and suddenly Steve was only experiencing his bodily surroundings. It was a shock, but his mind quickly reorganized.

Taffy. What was happening to Taffy?

When he looked, Steve found himself horrified. The blood vessels in one of the other man's eyes had burst, turning the whole thing red like in that movie Clint loved. Blood poured from Taffy's nose and his fully body trembled like he was being electrocuted. It only got worse when he was touched, the sensations so intense that he screamed at the slightest contact.

"What happened?" Steve demanded hoarsely as he watched a gurney get rushed away, Taffy writhing in pain on it.

The lead scientist surveyed him with a milk white face. "I- I don't know," she answered in a stammer, "The closest I've ever seen to that is the original tests where we discovered that solo piloting causes a neural overload." She pulled herself together remarkably quickly and began to order the whole room around.

It wasn't until Steve tasted something metallic that he realized his own nose was bleeding. Absently he stuffed a tissue in his nostril and, when allowed, left.

Outside the doors, the other students anxiously waited their turns. Upon seeing Steve's bloody nose some of them went pale.

"What happened in there?" Concepcion asked faintly, "Why was Taffy yelling? Where is he?" She had grown remarkably fond of the bright-eyed young man over the past months.

"I don't know what happened," Steve told her, still a little dazed, "They rushed him out on a gurney."

Ever the mother hen, Tony pushed him down onto a chair and began to inspect him. "Pulse is a little high, pupils contracted…" he muttered to himself as he did basic tests. Upon messing with the tissue in Steve's nose, he swore with surprise. "Holy shit, your nose is still bleeding!"

When he looked, Nat and Clint exchanged worried glances. "Is this a normal reaction?" the latter asked the other students disbelievingly.

The answer was negative.

By the time Steve's nose stopped bleeding, the head scientist appeared in the doorway. "Captain Rogers?" she called.

"Yes, ma'am?" he responded immediately. In the past ten minutes he had mostly recovered, only a headache remaining.

The scientist sighed with relief and adjusted her glasses. "You look fine, but I'd like it if you went to medical to get checked out," she instructed. Looking at Tony, she added, "If you would make sure he gets there, Mr Stark?"

The inventor offered a hand to Steve. "Come on, up you get, Spangles," he teased half heartedly.

It was taken and the blonde had the strange thought that he would feel so much better if that hand was on his head, raking through his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut before he opened them again. It was the headache talking, it had to be.

"The rest of you, I'm afraid that you get a break from compatibility testing until we repair the electronics," the lead scientists announced to shocked murmurs, "The last test completely fried them. Thanks for your patience with us. Dismissed." She then whirled around to re-enter the lab, already issuing orders.

"What happened in there?" Tony asked, audibly bewildered, as he guided the big blonde through the now familiar concrete halls.

"Taffy's brain overloaded," Steve admitted in a whisper. Guilt was beginning to well up, knowing that he was the cause.

Any shock Tony felt was quickly wiped from his face. "I knew you were extreme, but goddamn," he commented with false lightness.

Steve only felt guiltier. He should have said something, but what could he have said? It had been years since he was faced with the differences between normal humanity and his own serum enhanced body and he had forgotten.

When they entered the medical wing, a doctor immediately set upon them. "Sit down," he ordered Steve, almost shoving him onto an examination table.

The usual tests were performed and most results came back normal. Pulse and blood pressure were fine, pupils were a little constricted but quickly regaining their usual size. Reflexes were the same as ever, hearing and throat perfectly healthy. Just to be sure, despite that everything looked fine, more in depth scans were ordered.

"We need to be sure that you are not bleeding in the brain," the doctor explained when he was given a look wondering if he was serious.

Steve could see the sense in that. He allowed himself to be put through three different machines without protest. They all declared that there was nothing wrong.

That in itself felt not right, Steve thought, disturbed, when he was given a clean bill of health and told that after a day of rest he would be right as rain. Taffy obviously had brain damage and he was fine. What on earth happened?

News came back later that day: the memory and sensory centers of Taffy's brain were damaged and one eye was permanently blinded. He would be unable to even live on his own from now on, never mind pilot a jaeger.

The therapist they sent to help Steve deal with his guilt over the incident was stonewalled at every opportunity due to the "contract with the military" about the serum. While the feelings of responsibility for what happened were able to be dealt with, the cause of it was left untouched. Probably not the best of circumstances.

While he couldn't talk to a professional about anything to do with the serum, Steve found himself confiding in the other Avengers quite often. It would have to be them. They were the only ones who already knew.

Everyone else had developed a sudden fear of being too close to him.

The worst part was that Steve couldn't blame them.