info: Whelp, here we are at chapter four, with only two more to go before the (epic) conclusion! Please enjoy~
"We're getting you drunk," Tony said, leaving little room for argument.
That wasn't to say Steve wouldn't try. "I can't get drunk," he argued. "Don't you think I've tried?"
"You've never had me on your team," Tony said, as if it explained everything. He took down a bottle from the shelf behind his bar, glancing over the label before setting it aside to look at another. Six bottles failed to pass his inspection, until he came to a squat green bottle with no label. "Ah, here we go. Try this."
"What is it?" Steve asked skeptically.
"Nevermind that, drink up, the whole thing," Tony encouraged, pushing the bottle closer.
Steve took the bottle with caution, as if it might bite or spontaneously combust. Which, in the case of Tony's liquor, probably wasn't a farfetched concern. He looked to Tony for approval before lifting the bottle to his lips and drinking. The liquid burned his throat like cold fire, sweeping down to his stomach in a chilling rush. His eyes watered as he chugged the alcohol, dropping the bottle to the bar when it was empty. He wiped a hand across his lips, eyebrows quirking up.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Absinthe," Tony responded eagerly, sitting across from him, elbows on the bar, chin in his hands. "I didn't think you'd drink the whole bottle in one go, good on you. Give it a minute now, and tell me how you feel."
Steve and Tony sat in silence for what seemed, to Tony, several hours. In reality, the three minutes that passed by were barely the blink of an eye. But Tony, being Tony, jumped to his feet and announced loudly, "Stand up, walk around!"
Steve got from his chair, standing as tall and straight as any other day. "Nothing, I feel fine," he said.
"Oh," Tony said, the disappointment clear in his tone. "Well, you're lucky I'm rich. That bottle wasn't cheap, you know."
"I warned you."
"We'll just have to try something else," Tony said simply. "JARVIS, I'm going to need a few figures from you."
"What would those be, sir?"
Tony grinned. "Just a few percentages."
Somehow, Steve didn't see this turning out well.
.
"We're over the drop," the pilot says, the crackle of the radio tinting his voice. "Are you two ready?"
"I have been ready," Thor answers, and Steve notices the Demi-God's parachute is finally attached.
"Remember to pull the cord when you're free of the plane," Steve cautions.
"I remember the training," Thor answers.
"Then lets go," Steve says, getting to his feet. He shrugs the parachute pack over his shoulders, buckling and cinching the straps where they need it and testing the cord to make sure everything was in its proper place. He doesn't feel particularly like dying today, or anytime soon for that matter. At least not until he exacts his revenge on Loki. After that, all bets are off and in a few cases, placed firmly on hibernating in the ice for another seventy years. It seemed to work the first time.
The hatch opens, spilling into the vast expanse of dark sky beneath them. There's more above them, and on every side, but Steve concentrates on the space below him. The dense tree covering, the river to the north – or is it the south? Once he gets on the ground, his bearings will return. He gives hand-motion instructions to Thor, who motions back that he understands as well as roars it over the sound of the engines. The lungs on that man.
Steve Rogers takes a deep breath, then steps off the back of the plane.
The sensation of falling is much like freedom, except the destination isn't a heightened state of mind. He drinks it in for several heart-stopping moments, letting the air rush past him, watching the cloud formations illuminated by the moon, looking out across the land below him. When he pulls the cord, the parachute ejects, catching the wind and jerking him to a slower speed.
Maybe he miscalculated the drop, because steering his chute into the correct clearing is more of a challenge than Fury made it sound. He lands moments before Thor thunders into the ground, literally destroying the stones beneath his feet in a six-foot radius. Steve doesn't say anything about it, instead helping Thor remove the parachute and standing still so Thor can remove his. This done, they stash the useless fabric behind a low brick wall.
After his first attempt at taking over Earth, Loki decided on a smaller attack. He started in the backwater civilizations, posing as a God, and it seemed he was doing the same thing here. Dense forest surrounds the ancient temple, nature having long ago decided to take back what was hers.
"Loki sure knows how to choose hideouts," Steve comments.
"These temples are much like those in Asgard. Loki feels at home here," Thor explains.
"I don't want him to feel at home." I want him dead. But Steve doesn't say it, because he can't risk a fight with Thor again.
Clint's voice is in his ear, over the com. "Steve? Can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, Barton. What's the situation?"
"Loki has men at every possible entrance to the city."
"We're already in the city," Steve replies.
Clint pauses.
Natasha picks up the slack. "So am I. The guards aren't that smart."
"I can't see Loki," Clint says. "I'm guessing he's at the top of the temple. It makes the most sense."
"Already on it," Natasha says.
Steve and Thor waste no time in moving through the city. Clint keeps them informed, warning them of patrols going their way, and more than once Steve has to refrain from asking where Clint is that he can see everything. There is a good reason the man is called Hawkeye. Steve stops beside a crumbling wall, flattening himself to it. Thor follows his lead without question not because he has been told to, but because somewhere along the lines he learned that rushing into things gets people killed.
"Two guards coming your way, Cap," Clint says. "Should I take them out?"
"You have a clear shot?" Steve whispers.
"Clear enough."
Where on earth are you? Steve wants to ask. Instead, he nods. "Do it."
A whistle slices through the air, another following it shortly. Two thuds less than ten yards away give Steve the chills, and he turns around the corner to see two men laying dead on the ground. He would have remorse for killing them, but today is different. He lost something dear to him, and he's going to reach the one responsible at any cost.
"Cap," Clint says slowly.
"What is it?"
"Loki."
.
Tony returned an hour later holding a glass of clear liquid. He swished it around for a few moments before pressing it into Steve's hands. "I made something for you," he said cheerfully.
"Sir, that mixture hasn't been tested," JARVIS warned.
"He'll be fine," Tony dismissed with a wave of his hand.
Steve regarded the glass with skepticism. "If JARVIS says..."
"He doesn't know what he's talking about. You'll be fine. Take a drink."
Maybe Tony regretted the mixture, but if he did, Steve never heard of it. Within twenty minutes of drinking the glass, Steve was sitting on the floor with tears in his eyes. The alcohol washed through him, taking hold of his senses and rendering him as drunk as any man on a bender. Steve felt a hiccup rise in his chest, coming out as a pathetic groan. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this drunk. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been sitting on the floor, either, so he didn't hold much stock in either memory. What stock he held was in the memories he'd been holding back since becoming an Avenger.
"He just slipped through my fingers," Steve mumbled, tears welling in his eyes. "Just like that, and I couldn't do a damn thing."
"Hey," Tony said, squatting in front of Steve. "Stop beating yourself up, he knew what he was getting himself into."
Steve hiccuped, and a fresh wave of tears streaked down his face. "He was so scared, Tony."
Tony let out an exaggerated sigh, shifting to sit beside Steve. He put an arm over the crying mess and pulled him close to his chest, holding him tightly. Steve hiccuped, tried to get himself under control, and ultimately gave in to the sobs forcing themselves from his throat. His fingers clenched Tony's shirt, he pulled his knees close, curling into Tony's embrace.
Tony rested his chin on Steve's head. "You really are just a big baby, aren't you?"
