Thank you to Kae Richa who is basically my super fan. Seriously. Thanks for the reviews, including the one to the last chapter.
Disclaimer: I own nothing under copyright.
Chapter 8: Out of Control
"My experience of life is that it is not divided up into genres; it's a horrifying, romantic, tragic, comical, science-fiction cowboy detective novel. You know, with a bit of pornography if you're lucky."
― Alan Moore
If Bruce knew today would be such trouble, he would have called in sick. It would have been a blatant lie, but no one would have called him on it. He would have gotten away with it.
SHIELD was demanding his time and expertise, which he was perfectly willing to give if it meant getting his friends back. The sorcerer who sent them… wherever, had died in the fight, so his knowledge of how to bring them back was lost. Only Bruce and the other scientists were left to figure it out and he wouldn't let the Avengers down if he could help it. So that wasn't the issue.
No, the issue was what happened when they did manage to make contact with wherever that portal sent them to. It was only a computer hack, streaming footage from a camera that hopefully was close enough to provide clues as to how the teleported Avengers were doing. The footage sent most of SHIELD into a riot.
The surroundings themselves were fairly well lit and very strange, a small rounded room made of metal with two pairs of treads comprising most of the floor. In those treads two men in white armor over skintight black suits stood, covered from head to toe, with a holographic disc attached to the left hand of the man on the left and the reverse true as well. They faced what looked like a huge window with a shared holographic screen in front of it that doubled as a touch screen; the shorter pilot pressed several buttons in succession on it. The setup was remarkably familiar.
"There's something creepy about this," Sam commented as he watched the footage in a SHIELD conference room. Fury and Hill were there as expected, Thor and Bruce as the remains of the Avengers, and the (hopefully) temporary replacements of the team members they searched for: War Machine, Falcon, Agent 13, and the Winter Soldier. They sat at a table and watched the video, looking for any sign of what was or wasn't happening to their friends.
When Bruce examined the men and their surroundings, he agreed. There was something ever so slightly unnatural about this. Maybe it was the way the scenery out the window changed, but familiarity tickled at him.
In the video, the voice that had previously been giving admiring platitudes changed. "Level three kaiju heading toward the Gulf of Alaska. We can't require this of you, but you're the closest defense we have. It'll take half an hour to scramble a jaeger and-" the man said, apologetic and grave at once.
"Kaiju?"
"Jaeger?"
"Kaiju is Japanese for 'strange beast'," Agent Carter volunteered.
Unexpectedly, Rhodey piped up. "Jaeger means 'hunter' in German." He frowned at the implication of the video: giant monster attacks.
"You say that like we're not in a jaeger!" It was a shock to hear Tony's voice issue from the smaller set of armor, cheerful and teasing as usual.
From the size and dimensions of the other man, it was Steve hooked in beside him.
"Red Sirius is a training jaeger," the voice reminded them, "You don't have the full compliment of weapons right now." He seemed chagrined.
"Hasn't stopped us before," Steve said grimly, confirming his presence.
Bruce let out an almost silent breath of relief. At least half of his missing friends were alright and the other half most likely were.
"Red Sirius, you are authorized to engage the kaiju codenamed Uruk," the voice pronounced with a tone that said he didn't think it was a good idea.
"Let's get this bitch," Tony said viciously.
Suddenly, Bruce knew what looked so wrong. "Their movements," he pointed out, watching his friends with awe and concern, "They're moving the exact same way. See how they're walking mostly with their hips? That's Tony's walk. And the way their shoulders move with their arms? Steve does that." He couldn't believe it took him this long to realize the inherent sameness and wrongness of it.
As they watched more closely, the others seemed just as disturbed as Bruce. Why were they suddenly synchronized, meeting in the middle, when usually they were worlds apart in every way?
Just as strangely, there was very little verbal communication except with the person giving them direction. Swearing and frustrated comments were the exception.
Then there was a roar from outside the room (was it a room?) that could even be heard through the video. The kaiju was close.
"Here we come!" Tony sang out.
Together, both men punched; despite their different styles it was the exact same motion from both.
Outside the window, a gunmetal grey fist lashed out.
"Mother of God," Bruce whispered. This couldn't be happening.
"Jaegers are Gundam suits!" Rhodey exclaimed. He sounded unable to decide whether he was horrified or delighted.
When Barnes looked puzzled at this reference (just like Steve would have been) and Thor demanded an explanation, Sam said with growing disbelief, "Giant mechanized suits built to fight. In shows they're usually controlled by the movements of the people in them or by their thoughts." He knew far too much about children's tv shows.
As they watched Steve and Tony fight what looked like Godzilla, Bruce had a strange thought… Now to see if he was correct.
While most of them were understandably absorbed into watching the fight itself, he looked at Tony and Steve's physical cues. They were completely in line with each other. The most disconcert he saw was when the captain shouted, "I'm gonna kill you, Tony!" right before a particularly risky maneuver: shoving an arm further down the kaiju's throat when it was bitten.
"What are they-" Agent Carter cut herself off when the arm fired a missile that made the kaiju's belly explode from within. "Effective," she commented blandly.
It was a typical Tony move, Bruce saw with a small smile. The expression fell when it proved his alarming conclusion.
"What is it?" Barnes asked in a gravelly voice, more observant than he was given credit for.
On the screen, the fight ended with the machine, Red Sirius, using a second missile to explode the kaiju's spinal cord through its open, shrieking mouth. From the exhilarated laughter and stammering congratulations, it was unexpected.
"I think Sam's right," Bruce said, drawing the attention of most of the room from Tony and Steve reporting the death and beginning the walk back to land.
"What do you mean?" Fury asked, looking from the video feed to the scientist.
It was difficult to contemplate while still; Bruce began pacing. "When he said that the machines are usually operated by the movements or thoughts of the pilots," he answered, "From the looks of it, the jaeger followed Tony and Steve's movements."
"And?" Fury prompted with a glare.
"I think they were mentally connected," Bruce confessed hesitantly. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be right.
There was some tension in the room, but it didn't seem like he was fully understood. "What's that look on your face for?" Rhodey asked cautiously.
When Bruce took inventory of his expression, he realized he was grimacing.
"Steve and I have stronger senses," said Barnes grimly, "We experience more colors, can hear pitches too high and low for most, because of our potential speed we perceive things faster. Among other things." He paused, licked his lips, before continuing, "I don't think an unenhanced human mind can take that."
There was silence as the thought was digested. It was horrifying: brain damage would result and eventual, agonizing death after it. As far as Bruce knew, there was no alternative. "If anyone can take that, it's Tony," he declared stubbornly.
Rhodey nodded his head in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest.
Though no one else looked convinced, they did not say anything. No, they went back to the video feed.
"Any chance we can change the channel?" Sam asked.
Thankfully with the flesh hand, Barnes hit the back of Falcon's head with a forbidding scowl.
"You know, that's actually a good idea," Fury answered.
When Steve and Tony got back to the academy, they were immediately swept up by friends and frenemies alike. Instructors were more distant but no less jubilant.
Even they couldn't quite believe it. The whole way back to Kodiak Island the men were in a daze, wondering if that had really happened. It was one thing to kill a kaiju in their normal way, using a shield and an Iron Man suit, but doing it in the same way as the rest of the world was strange and fascinating. It never struck Steve to think that he actually would, even while he was being trained to.
By the time they were suiting down, the shock had made way for goofy grins and nervous giggles; now they had settled into elated acceptance. This was amazing.
"Your first kaiju kill, and you're not even out of training! Damn! You're making the rest of us look like losers!" Bryan cheered, slapping them on the backs.
Steve and Tony shared a sly smile. Oh, it wasn't their first kill. But they weren't going to say that.
No, instead they enjoyed what was virtually a feast for dinner. It was the first real celebration they'd had in this universe and lasted for most of the night. There was food all over the place and drinks passed out, no one even trying to keep to the especially healthy diet that they had been on for the past months. What's a party without junk food?
The one thing missing was alcohol, but no one seemed to mind. No, there was class tomorrow and no one wanted to deal with a hangover.
Through the night, it became easier to figure out where Steve ended and Tony started. At first one would be asked a question and the other would answer, confusing everyone around them. Eventually it got figured out and they were kept together to minimize confusion.
Admittedly, it freaked out Natasha and Clint. "Is this what happens after every drift?" the latter asked warily.
As one, they shrugged. "Maybe it's just that we have too strong of a connection," Tony suggested.
"Generally, drift hangovers are mild and gone by dinner," Colonel Wright said out of nowhere, "Has me a little worried about the two of you." He sipped on a box of apple juice as he looked from one to the other and back again.
Tony's surprise washed over them both. Why would the Colonel be worried about them?
"Just because I'm an ass doesn't mean I don't care," Wright commented with a shrug before he moved on to chat with other instructors.
A niggle of amusement passed through Steve's mind and he gently elbowed Tony in the side. Of course he would find humor in this mess.
It was impossible to sleep that night. Steve tossed and turned, an empty feeling inside that he could only label 'Tony'. That was what was missing. Damn the bunkbeds, he thought irritably.
"Cap?" Of course, Tony was awake. When wasn't he?
"Yeah?" Steve whispered.
"I can't sleep," Tony complained.
"Me either," Steve admitted. He was about ready to sit up and say to hell with tomorrow when Tony swung down from the top bunk.
The genius sat down on the end of the bed like he belonged there, leaning against the bars that served as a low footboard. There wasn't enough light for even Steve to make out details, just general shapes. It still made his heart beat faster to know that the object of his affections was on his bed.
"Today was weird as hell," Tony said out of nowhere, "I hate how slow that jaeger is. With how much we depend on speed and maneuverability, we were lucky to not get taken out."
Steve grimaced as his thoughts from earlier were echoed. Several times in the fight they had forgotten that they were in a giant, lumbering robot and tried to dodge faster than it could follow. If all the jaegers were like that, he wasn't sure how long they would last.
When he thought about it, Clint and Nat were in the same boat. Maybe they were even the captain to his and Tony's cabin boy. Being regular, if skilled, people on a team where the rest had super strength (or a set of power armor with super strength), they had to rely on dodging more often than taking the hit. This would put a kink in that style for sure.
"I made some designs for a couple of jaegers. By the time we get out of here they'll be be in production since I've got Stark Industries back," Tony went on, "With my experience with the Iron Man armor, I might have a leg up on the speed versus strength thing." He sounded hopeful, a rare thing right now.
"If anyone can save our bacon, it's you," Steve told him certainly. He couldn't count how many times Tony had come up with just the right thing at the right time to keep the Avengers from getting squashed under the amount of supervillain attacks. Not for the first time, he was fiercely glad Tony was with him here.
"I certainly hope so," Tony said, tone arrogant despite the uncertain words. A yawn interrupted anything else he was going to say.
"C'mon, we need to sleep. You can deal with SI in the morning," Steve said. His own eyelids were getting heavy, a welcome relief from his tossing and turning.
Instead of getting back into his own bed, Tony simply curled up like a cat on the end of Steve's.
Steve had no problem with this. Except that he was sure Tony would have a crick in his neck when they were woken. "If you're going to sleep on my bed, at least get under the covers," he said, and lifted up the edge.
There was no argument, just Tony crawling up and under the blankets. He ran nice and warm, a side effect from the arc reactor, compared to the cold leftover from the ice. They both sighed in relief. Tony curled up in front of Steve, both of them barely fitting on the narrow bunk.
Steve was about to fall asleep when the back pressed against his chest vibrated with muffled laughter. "What?" he grumbled into Tony's hair. He liked the smells of blueberries, coconut, and metal.
"I got you in bed before the first date," Tony said with a smirk in his voice.
"Shut up," Steve replied, already half asleep.
"Love you," Tony mumbled, but they were both too far asleep to know.
Graduation was on a sunny June day that year. Considering that Steve hadn't even gotten to attend his own high school graduation (he was in bed with bronchitis, again) it was a new experience.
He was sure that there were usually no news cameras at most of them. This particular event had a whole section for the press. Otherwise the cafeteria, which doubled as the auditorium, was about half full. If most of the people in attendance were bigwigs from the military, no one said anything.
What was mentioned was how much Tony hated the uniform. For once in their lives he and Bryan agreed on something, shifting uncomfortably and tugging on ties and sleeves. If he didn't know about Clint's military background, Steve would be surprised that the archer wasn't also complaining.
No, Clint and Nat were a strange combination of dangerous and dignified in their dress greens. As of today they were Army Rangers and they looked the part. Even if they were definitely carrying more weapons than was regulation, in places that strangers would never think to look.
As for Steve, he was shifting around uncomfortably for a whole different reason. Public speaking was never his thing.
"Today we send out a whole new class of pilots to defend us against the kaiju. Congratulations class of 2019," Marshal Pentecost said, ending his speech to raucous applause, "If you would each come up when your name is called, you'll be given the badges that officially mark you as pilots."
All ten of them sat up a little straighter. Who would be first?
"Concepcion Damascus and Bryan La Fontaine," Marshal Pentecost called. It seemed that he was going by pilot pairs.
The two shuffled out to thunderous applause. From the back, someone shouted in Spanish and Concepcion called back with laughter in her voice.
Each had their hand shaken and a pin put on their lapels before they left the stage. Cameras flashed, nearly blinding, the whole time.
One by one the pairs were called, until it was only Avengers left. "Clinton Barton and Natasha Romanoff," Marshal Pentecost said with a little twitch of his lips. Was that almost a smile? There was something knowing in his face as he shook each of their hands all the same.
"Woo, Clintasha!" Tony whooped obnoxiously.
The eyebrow that rose on Nat's face was almost terrifying. As he followed his partner down the stairs on the other side of the stage, Clint's subtly raised middle finger was less so.
Steve rolled his eyes and shifted in preparation to get up. It was only them left.
"This next pair are already highly accomplished. This past April they killed the Category 3 kaiju Uruk in the training jaeger Red Sirius," Marshal Pentecost announced, to impressed whispers and even more camera flashes, "I present to you Steven Rogers and Anthony Stark."
If there was interest before, there was an uproar now. Everyone knew that Tony Stark died in 2011 in this universe. Now here he was, bouncing up the stairs, a few years older and in an army dress uniform.
More slowly Steve followed, amused at the shark-like grin Tony had on for the cameras. They were flashing so fast that there may as well have been a spotlight on his face. Just like any other day back home.
When it was his turn, Steve smiled slightly down at the Marshal as a pin was put on the familiar olive drab. There was something meaningful in the British man's face as he tapped that Ranger badge. A reminder as to what waking up that morning, lungs clearing up instead of drowning in kaiju blue, meant.
Solemnly, Steve nodded. It was a responsibility he was fully willing to take on, even without Tony's deal.
"If Rangers Romanoff and Barton would come back up on stage, I have an additional badge to pin on them, Ranger Stark, and Ranger Rogers," Marshal Pentecost said, to mass confusion.
Even Steve and Tony were confused. From what he could see of his friends' reactions, they knew little more.
Once all the Avengers were on stage, lined up in a row, Marshal Pentecost said, "I think we've all watched the footage from last year of four talented individuals taking on a kaiju, without a jaeger, and winning. Today, I am honored to present each of them the kaiju combat badge and a medal to commemorate their bravery on that extraordinary day."
The applause this time started off slowly, but grew to epic proportions until the whole room echoed as the badges, then medals, were pinned. An additional handshake was given each of them as they departed the stage, aside of Steve. No, he stayed right where he was.
"Ranger Rogers is going to speak for a few moments, now," Marshal Pentecost announced before he stepped off stage.
Politely Steve waited until the Marshal was seated before he began. "This is a celebration of us, but it's not just our day. It's everyone's. We may have accomplished this, but the world is the real beneficiary. It has twenty new Rangers dedicated to protecting it with everything that we have; in war as in peace, in living as in dying, from this hour hence forth, until the Rangers release us or the apocalypse take us," he said, knowing full well that Clint had replaced most of his planned speech with lines from Lord of the Rings and ad libbing it, "We're being sent out into the real world now and it's time to follow the motto of our new brothers and sisters in arms: Rangers lead the way." He opened his mouth to thank everyone for their time, but was cut off by a projector flashing.
Instead of what he feared ("Who's strong and brave, here to save the American way?") there was an instrumental piece. It would have fit right along with Star Spangled Man with a Plan, harkening back to the days of the Howling Commandos, but there was something intense about it. Steve could fully envision a battle raging, Allies versus Axis, on the screen.
That was close enough, Steve thought with a conceding nod of his head as he watched himself and the other Avengers take on their first kaiju. The footage was shaky but good quality and shot from above. It had probably been hijacked from a news chopper. Even he winced when he saw himself covered in kaiju blue at the end, that had been a close call.
"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to cut my speech short and murder my classmates," Steve announced the moment the music stopped.
Their row emptied quicker than he expected, even of Nat. Yep, they were all going to get it.
Less annoyed than he acted, Steve left the stage to another roaring round of applause. Just before he walked out the doors, he caught Marshal Pentecost saying, "Our graduates are a mischievous bunch, and as they're all absent, I suppose that the ceremony is done with. Thank you for coming."
The party took place in their dorm room, a spread of nicked food on two of the empty bunks and drinks scattered on the shelves. There was music courtesy of Tony hacking the tannoy system again, and the twenty of them danced and chattered and laughed their way through the night.
Phone numbers and email addresses were exchanged with the hopes of keeping in touch. Even Bryan had become family, that rude cousin you make excuses for but secretly are amused by. They all knew that it would take a while to get into jaegers, if they managed it at all with production slowing down.
The only place that had sped up on jaeger production was America, because Tony had gotten Stark Industries to put together two. One for him and Steve, one for Nat and Clint. The designs were put forward months ago and now that training was over, Tony was almost back to routine- spending days at a time in a workshop with minimal breaks, until one of the other Avengers coaxed or threatened him away from the computer.
This time, there were only as many interruptions as was needed to keep Tony alive and at least moderately healthy. As much as Steve hated it, his boyfriend's mind was needed now more than ever. The world was in too much danger for him to do anything more than watch lines of code be written almost faster than he could read them, creating a new AI to help control the jaegers.
The newly graduated class was split up among the shatterdomes. Concepcion and Bryan were sent to Sydney, Nat and Clint to Nagasaki. The other pairs were shipped off to the other locations. Just in case backup pilots were needed. Only Tony and Steve stayed in Alaska, given equipment and room to experiment with weapons and systems for new jaegers.
While Tony feverishly wrote code or designed blueprints, Steve would train in the weight room or run along the coast. Sometimes he sat in a corner and sketched the incoming students. Maybe the last class, it was whispered.
There was very little of the fun that his own class had found. No, there was a grim desperation that didn't belong on their young faces. They all knew something was coming, something bad.
Some were a little younger than others, Steve saw when he looked in on the first day. The youngest announced in a rough Australian accent that he was born August 13, 2003. That made him not quite sixteen years old.
It was like a punch to the gut to see a kid in there. That room, this base, is for soldiers and Steve has never wanted to see one so young. Clint would shrug with a sympathetic smile and a comment about saving the world, Nat would say that she had been younger when she started and fighting for a far worse cause.
That didn't stop Steve from finding out about the kid the first chance he got. It wasn't that hard. He was the biggest topic of conversation around, besides Steve and Tony and jaeger news.
The kid was Chuck Hansen, son of one of Lucky Seven's pilots and nephew to the other. Raised in the cockpit and more a soldier than a boy even before he got here. One look in his hard, angry blue eyes at dinner on week three and Steve came close to agreeing.
They generally didn't run into each other. Chuck was too busy being a student, Steve looking after his boyfriend and testing anything the dev team thought of. Sometimes he would be asked to demonstrate a combat move or help haul a heavy object- somehow one of the candidates got trapped between a wardrobe and a wall at one point.
In the fall, they finally ran into each other for more than five minutes. Steve had gone to the roof to get away from the madhouse of the labs. He didn't ask why Chuck was there, just sat down two feet away on the cold concrete.
For a while there was silence. It was nice, being alone together with someone. He hadn't gotten the chance since before the Stark jaegers were put into production.
There was enough light to draw by and Steve took the opportunity. The facility was quiet and still, the perfect time to depict it in lead and charcoal. He tried to not hum to himself as he set pencil to paper and only figured out he failed when Chuck spoke.
"Was that really you in that film?" the boy asked.
It took a moment for Steve to figure out what he was talking about. Then he realized he was humming Star Spangled Man with a Plan and felt his ears go hot. "Yes," he admitted sheepishly.
"Nice work with the wires on that motorcycle. Looked like you were really holding it up," Chuck said.
"I was," Steve corrected him. He remembered the first time he did the stunt, having to figure out the balance between the motorcycle and the three girls on it. That was scarier by far than his unauthorized rescue mission, way back when things were simple.
Chuck was forgiven for snorting out his disbelief. "Pull the other one," he said.
"I can show you," Steve offered. It would feel good to use his strength to its fullest extent again.
Obviously Chuck was humoring him when he agreed.
They climbed off the room and down to the lab, Steve sighing when he found his boyfriend going nuts over a system that had apparently been installed completely backward. How they managed that was beyond him.
It wasn't until Tony noticed their arrival that he paused in his rant long enough to breathe. "Oh, hey guys. What's up?" he asked like he wasn't so tired he was shivering and didn't have coffee stains down his front.
"Anything you need help with in here?" asked Steve, "Within my skill set?" There was more in here that he couldn't do than that he could.
"Yeah, actually. A couple of components came out wrong, I need you to bend them into shape and then hold a panel in place so it can be installed. Got it?" Tony said, tripping over his rushed and slurred words.
"Then you come to bed," Steve said sternly.
As always, it was waved off. "Sleep is for the weak-" Tony began.
"And the dead," Steve finished with a roll of his eyes. After years of living with Tony, he knew the phrase well enough. It could have been the Army's motto back when he served, now that he thought of it.
The pieces that were put in front of him were metal, as thick as his forearm, and about three feet long. "Which way?" Steve asked, not reacting when he noticed Chuck moving in closer.
In response, Tony made a gesture that meant for it to be bent in a perfect right angle. He then tapped the section of the bar that the crease needed to be at.
With a nod, Steve put his hands where he needed them to make the line smooth. It took effort, but was well within his ability.
Beside him, Chuck tried and couldn't find any give in the metal. Not for someone with normal human strength, at least.
Steve hid his smile when he bent a second, then a third bar. Soon after, he had his hand out for the bar Chuck held.
With a glare at the metal, the boy dropped it into his hand.
It seemed that Chuck became a believer after he saw Steve bend that same metal bar. The look on his face said it all. "Okay," he muttered, "Okay, then."
The sheet of metal that needed holding up was even less of an issue. It was the size of a small boat, but there were holes that apparently huge screws would go through near the middle. Steve used those to haul it to where it was needed, and then pressed upward while the technicians fastened it in place at the edges.
When he looked, Tony was leering in a way that ordinarily might have meant something fantastic later on. As it was, he swayed in place and had to catch himself on a desk.
By the time the technicians were done, Tony and Chuck were both falling asleep on the table. Even they needed rest, no matter what they claimed.
As he probably wouldn't appreciate being carried off, Steve shook Chuck's shoulder. "Hey, you should get to bed. Class starts early," he said.
The only answer was a grumble as the boy got to his feet. He shuffled out of the room without a word.
Amused, Steve picked up his exhausted boyfriend and exited the lab. The world was at war, but sleep had to come sometime.