A/N Updates may be irregular over the next couple of weeks - real life's having its say again. Will update when I can.
Thanks once again for the reviews and follows.
Pseudo-science alert for the end of this chapter: I work on the Star Trek principle of "state it with conviction and hope everyone's invested enough in the story not to care it's nothing more than a blatant plot device" - you have been warned.
Chapter Four
Steve paced the area by the lounge window watching the flashing lights and explosions in the distance.
He was worried: He'd read the mission briefing and knew it should be straightforward but – assuming SHIELD's intel was correct – it was actually too straightforward an incident to deploy Iron Man, at least initially.
There had been some debate originally as to the value of the team undertaking such minor missions; whilst real-life situations with some element of risk were considerably more valuable for developing teamwork than training simulations could ever be, it had been equally important to prevent the appearance that the city was operating a "sledgehammer versus nut" type of response to problems.
Generally speaking, the compromise had been to employ the "big guns", namely Iron Man and Hulk (only when there was no alternative), of the team sparingly. On the whole, it had worked well and had earned the team a lot of very positive press attention which, in turn, had calmed down some of the earlier panic-mongering about their presence in the city: A development Nick Fury was most certainly not ungrateful for.
But tonight, it was that very compromise – one that had seemed so pragmatic at the time – that was worrying Steve: He knew the individuals that made up his team were very capable…but, unfortunately, they were also still capable of forgetting they were a team.
A roar in the distance and a rising dust cloud from a building hit by an immense force saw Steve tense and move as close to the outside world as his imprisoning barrier would allow.
He gritted his teeth and desperately regretted his inability to hit something. Under normal circumstances he would have had Tony monitoring the situation from the air and feeding the team updates and information; circling the area covering the team's backs; and providing the pyrotechnics and extra power should the need arise for them to look a bit more "impressive". Based on the mission briefing, the risk of having Bruce there vastly outweighed any potential benefits.
Steve's frustration with his powerlessness overwhelmed him and he slumped to the floor, waiting and hoping that none of his team or anyone else paid an unacceptable price for his present situation.
It was well after midnight when the tired Avengers trouped back through the door. Bloodied and bruised but, the Captain was relieved to see, with no major injuries. Tony was assisting an exhausted and disoriented Bruce, his suit was battered and scratched but showed no major damage; Natasha and Clint seemed to have sustained only cuts and bruises.
They gathered in the lounge, tired and demoralised. Tony removed the suit and initiated auto-repair before dispensing post-battle pick-me-ups from the bar as was the norm.
They switched on the TV: The news reports were full of the chaotic response that had left 27 people requiring hospital treatment (mercifully all with relatively minor injuries – one man had a broken leg and concussion but that seemed to be the worst of it).
Steve moved among the group, picking up snippets of conversation and comments and piecing together what had transpired.
"What the hell happened? We're so much better than that." Clint complained, wincing as he cleaned a large, bloodied area on his arm and discovered a significant area of skin missing.
"We looked like amateurs," Natasha scowled in an unusually candid response that revealed the level of her displeasure.
It became clear that Fury had already expressed his annoyance at the evening's events: Apparently a cluster of small flying robots armed with low-level weaponry, designed more to create panic than cause actual harm, had been released at a well-attended charity gala – ironically, one that Tony had withdrawn from after the order to attend the conference had been received.
With so many dignitaries and public figures in attendance, the significant response of the police (and subsequently the Avengers) had provided excellent cover for a well-planned raid on an innocuous but nonetheless secure establishment several blocks away that just happened to be a major storage facility for diamonds.
Tony's being limited to more ground-based activities meant he'd not been able to monitor the area effectively and the team had all realised too late what was really happening. Fortunately, the thieves had been apprehended but rather more due to their plan backfiring than anything the Avengers did (as a further diversion, the miscreants released another swarm of their annoying flying robots close to Bruce's location and suffered the consequences).
Whilst, in essence, the mission had been successful, there seemed to have been rather more luck involved in the outcome than anyone would have wanted. Certainly, the media reaction to the level of collateral damage and the injury count appeared to brand their performance unacceptable: Reports were phrased to suggest the blame lay with a poorly organised evacuation of civilians from the gala and the destruction of property caused by the Hulk. All in all the Avengers had been a shadow of the normally slick outfit they'd begun to pride themselves in being and the execution of their response had been – for want of a better word - untidy.
Steve, having reassured himself that everyone would be OK, had sat down within the semi-circle formed by the couches – anxious to be as much a part of the team as his situation allowed: He was relieved to see there was no blaming or recrimination among the group, the fact was no-one had actually done anything wrong - they just hadn't been able to work to their strengths.
He noted, however, that Natasha and Clint were unusually vocal, their personal and professional pride clearly stung; he felt angry that Bruce had been put in such an unnecessary situation and anguish at the pain and exhaustion that caused him; but, most of all, he watched Tony's considered lack of reaction to the whole thing as though his mind were elsewhere.
Clint was the first to retire.
"We'll do better next time. We just weren't on our game tonight."
Tony quirked an eyebrow at him but didn't respond. Natasha left the lounge shortly after with just a curt (but not unfriendly) nod towards Tony and an almost soft, sympathetic look at Bruce now curled up asleep on the sofa.
Tony drained the remainder of his drink and stood up. He paused briefly to drape a throw over the dormant scientist - Steve smiled slightly at the gentle act of kindness knowing the man would never act in such a way if he knew he was being watched – before heading to the elevator and back to his lab unaware he had company.
It was well into the early hours of the morning when Tony strode into the lab:
"Jarvis, you'd better have something for me – I may be crazy but I'm not mad!"
"I believe my in-depth analysis of the scans may have uncovered something Sir."
"Show me what you've got…"
A holographic display appeared showing a series of figures and what, to Steve, looked like little more than a wavy line – "a radio wave?" he wondered.
Tony stepped forward, his extraordinarily sharp mind processing what he saw.
"It's the power signature for the main arc reactor….but what's that?" He demanded of his AI, tracing a barely visible second line with his finger, it mimicked almost exactly the same path as the principle line although slightly out of sync. However, it was obviously slightly faster as occasionally it transected the stronger line in the graph.
"It appears to be indicative of some form of energy slightly out of phase with what we are able to see or normally detect. It only shows when all readings are subjected to spectral analysis Sir. I am unsure of its purpose but the residential floors are flooded with it."
"Show me…"
A holographic wire-frame representation of the tower appeared. The sources of the strange energy signature had been transposed onto it. Solid lines appeared delineating the floors themselves and surrounded all the residential levels including the external walls; a more fluid version of the same signature filled two distinct rooms within the same area; and finally, a smaller swirling mass of energy appeared at varying levels of density throughout the area but principally concentrated in the lounge…and the lab.
"That's me…"
"Explain." Tony commanded, there was an edge to his voice that had not been there before.
"Unfortunately I am unable to," Jarvis had that apologetic tone again. "There are three distinct manifestations of the phased energy signature which appear to perform different purposes but I am at a loss to explain what those purposes are."
"Any indication they're harmful?"
"Not so far Sir"
Tony regarded the hologram a few more moments before drawing up a series of complex numbers and analysing them silently and intently.
"The Type 3 signature is a decaying output?"
"Indeed Sir, it appears to slowly dissipate over approximately a 12 hour period."
"Where is the most recent signature located?" Tony already knew the answer from his own analysis of the data but he needed confirmation in order to believe it.
"Approximately 1.2 metres to your right, Sir."
Tony, almost unknowingly, brought his hand up to touch the arc reactor nestled in his chest – the thing he both cherished and loathed simultaneously but that might hold to key to his "ghost-sightings" – a couple of swipes of his other hand and a third line appeared on the holographic graph, identical in pattern but weaker than that of the main arc reactor.
"Jarvis, correlate the pattern of the phased signal with the energy output of my personal reactor. Advise when the two will coincide."
"The two signals will converge in 21.2 seconds."
"Has the Type 3 current location changed?"
"No"
Tony turned and faced the area to his right.
"How long does convergence last?"
"Less than 0.5 seconds."
"Don't move…" he urged to empty space. "Countdown from 10 Jarvis."
"10….9….8...7…..6…"
Tony forced himself not to blink which meant he was immediately overwhelmed with the desire to do so – he ignored it.
"…4….3….2….1….0"
For a split second Tony saw a tall blond man looking straight at him…and then he was gone.
Staring at the empty space Tony exhaled a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Somewhere deep inside him he knew that he knew who this person was and, more importantly, he knew that this individual was the answer to what had been missing from his life for the last 36 hours.