Disclaimer: nothing is mine
"Do not go through that door!" Steve hissed under his breath as he continued to scan the otherwise empty corridor. He prided himself on being an all-round patient man, (anyone that lived with Tony would have to be), but infiltrating a secret base with the Doctor had brought to light a short-temper that had been buried for longer than he dared remember.
"I wouldn't bother," Tony's voice was distorted by the Iron Man mask, which was uncomfortably shiny in the harshly lit halls, but the unfamiliar weariness in it was loud and clear, "It's become abundantly clear that Spock here does what he wants, because he's obviously invincible."
"Yes, thank you Tony-" Steve remarked over his shoulder, just as the Doctor straightened up from the door that he had been waving his 'screwdriver' over; it didn't take alien intelligence (only a soldier's intuition) to know that the largest door they had passed, at the end of the widest corridor, nearing the centre of the base, that had locks right up the side, would be the next best place to go. Regardless, the Doctor had swept ahead of the group, ignoring Steve's protests, and begun inspecting the thick steel panelling with a pinched expression.
"I'm the one with the know-how and the screwdriver; when I'm in the room I'm the highest authority as far as mumbo-jumbo is concerned- and I think it's very concerned at the moment." The Doctor retorted waving his screwdriver and adjusting his bow-tie and tweed lapels, and Steve couldn't tell if he was frustrated or if he was boasting, before he added in a friendly tone, "And we need to go through this door."
"Are you absolutely sure this is the right place?" Steve reiterated the same question he'd been repeating as they turned every tight corner; the whole situation was fishy, and the idea that the people they were searching for were just sitting about waiting for them to turn up made him want to turn the group around and let them wait. He couldn't do that though; the Avengers could handle themselves, and it was important that the prisoners had time to escape.
"Absolutely!" The Doctor replied (at the top of his voice), pulling a small, clumsy salute. Thor moved forward so that he was between the group and the door (it had been unspokenly decided that as the most resilient of the group, he was to take up the nose of the attack), his hammer held at waist height, ready to jump into action.
"Don't worry friends, this Timelord is known to be the cleverest man to traverse the universe…" the god took a moment to look the Doctor's rumpled form up and down, before glancing sheepishly towards the others, "Regardless of how…he may appear."
"Well so long as you're sure." Bruce interjected from the back; a quick look informed Steve that the scientist was rubbing his hands together nervously, eyeing up the door, "The last thing we want is me getting agitatedly for no reason…especially in such a, uh, confined space."
"Believe me Buddy, we know." Tony muttered, patting him on the back; the force of the titanium nudged Bruce forward and actually made him stumble. Steve shook his head and turned back to the door, moving in beside Thor and pushing the Doctor behind him.
"Okay, fine. Stop messing around and get ready to scatter if things go wrong." He instructed them, and the group fell silent, shifting into their battle stance around him as he leant back on his heels and raised his shield before him (all except the Doctor, who stood awkwardly in the centre, tip-toeing so that he could peer over Tony's shoulder.)
Wordlessly, Steve made a swift gesture with his spare hand. Thor nodded resolutely and, swinging Mjolnir first two or three times around his wrist, building up the momentum, he slammed the hammer through the door, blasting the steel into the wide space behind it with an almighty crash, and bringing a cloud of murky dust up into the air.
As the dust settled, Steve was thrown further off his guard than before. There was no response, save a muffled cough from within. He nodded to Thor, and together the two of them tread warily into the room, their weapons held aloft. Tony and Bruce followed closely behind, keeping their sights trained on the black kitted guards that lined the walls, their heads down and their rifles pointed at the floor. This was all wrong. The Doctor, (and Steve didn't know what else he'd expected really) strode into the room as if he owned the place and gave a quick twirl to take in the setting, a confident smirk spreading across his face.
"Well, well, well." The Doctor exclaimed happily, "Isn't this nice?"
Steve didn't even bother calling him back, instead looking around room as he knew the others would be. It bore all the hallmarks of a SHIELD HQ; a big horseshoe of computer terminals in the centre of the room, a raised platform around the edge (on which the motionless guards were now waiting eerily for god only knew what), and a set of shallow steps that started at either side of the room and climbed to the raised and railed area at the back of the room, on which a comfortable workstation was set out, below the wall on which an expansive black screen (which Steve could imagine Fury using to meet with the Council) wedged between two steel doors that mirrored the many they had passed in the halls.
"This is no time for games!" Thor boomed; the strange and unsettling atmosphere, made worse by the guards' refusal to even look at them, had obviously gotten to him, and out of the corner of his eye Steve could see the god's knuckles tensing as he squeezed Mjolnir tighter.
"I'd have to disagree with you there Odinson." A sharp, slippering voice with a crisp British accent clambered from the upper platform at the back of the room, making all but the Doctor yank their weapons in that direction; the Doctor's turned slowly towards the still disembodied voice, the smile on his face vanishing, only to be replaced by a broiling, turbulent, fearful anger, "It is nice, after all."
The Doctor stormed forward, pausing as the guards framing the room twitched, their hands moving infinitesimally towards the barrels of their rifles. Steve could just about make out Bruce inhaling deeply and decided that this needed to stop now; they knew from the moment they left the Helicarrier that they were walking into a trap, but this was too wrong.
"Doctor I think you should stand back." Steve ordered, but his eyes were drawn to the silhouetted form that had risen from the high backed chair within the raised workstation.
"I gotta agree with the Captain, Doc. Get back over here!" Tony added from his position, which had morphed into a kind of back and forth patrol in front of Bruce. The Doctor ignored both commands, instead staring up at the unfamiliar figure, his eyes burning.
"How are you possibly, possibly here?" he demanded, his hand rising to gesture confusedly in the air. The man, now standing in the light, nodded towards one of the guards, who marched swiftly up the nearest curving staircase and through the rear door. The man then turned his attention back towards the Doctor; Steve inwardly grimaced at the expression on his face. The ratty blonde hair, and the cold brown eyes were marred by the demented, self-satisfied grin that spread across the round face of the man clad in a hoodie and worn jeans of all things.
"Let's just say that after you helped me clear up my last mess, I woke up in some barren corner of this planet…and thought I'd take a bit of time to recover, think through some new ideas now that my head's a bit quieter." The man spoke condescendingly, but familiarly, to the Doctor, who was drawing in ragged breaths, his eyes wide and his non-existent eyebrows fixed about his fringe, "If anything, you've got more explaining to do than me…what happened? Did you fall through a play-centre during your regeneration?"
"Stop stalling!" The Doctor shouted back, tensely; his hands were clenching at his sides, "I thought we were past this! If you've got a problem with me, then you let this lot go and get down here, and I'll pander to whatever lingering resentments you've been harbouring."
The man laughed, a chilling, full throated, hearty laugh that rebounded off the walls and sent imperceptible shiver creeping across Steve's flesh under his suit.
"You?" the man drawled, as if he were in on some great joke that the others were just too slow to understand, "I didn't even know you were coming!"
Steve clenched his shield tighter in his fist, reigning in the tension that was growing in his stomach.
"What do you want with us then?" he called, and strode to stand beside the Doctor, extending his shield arm so that it partly covered the man. He ignored the irritable sideways glance that the Doctor shot him, as the guards along the walls, although still stationary, had begun shifting, as if preparing to move.
"And who the Hell are you?" Tony demanded before the grinning man could reply. If anything, the grin got wider.
"Pleasure to meet you Mr Stark, Mr Rogers…you really have all done beautifully." He drawled, and he rested his arms of the railing in front of him; the relaxed pose made Steve want to throw something at him, get him back on track, to stop messing around, but any sudden moves could set of the guards, "I am the Master."
From behind him Steve heard both Tony and Bruce ask 'what?' in tandem, and the Doctor's shoulders slumped in defeat.
"He's a Timelord." The Doctor explained, his eyes never shifting from their position, fixed on the Master, whose smile reminded the soldier of a grimacing cat that had gotten the cream and then snaffled the family's prize budgie as well. There were confused and befuddled huffs from the rest of the group.
"The Captain asked you a question," Thor growled; one look told Steve that he was tensed and ready to attack, his head twitching as he scanned the stony facades of the grim guards that watched the proceedings without any visible emotional responses, "If you are not here for your kinsman, what do you want with us?"
The Master shook his head and pursed his lips as if he were genuinely disappointed by the question.
"I don't want anything with you, I just need the lot of you out of the way." He explained with a shrug, and the Doctor appeared to be holding his breath; to be fair, so was Steve, waiting for the Timelord to continue with his curveball announcement, "I want him."
With that the Master lifted his right hand and pointed firmly into the centre of the group, all of who turned to follow the line of the gesture. All eyes fell on Bruce, who brought his arms around his chest and shrugged into himself the way that he did when she was uncertain; not necessarily scared, just unsure of what was going to happen.
"Me?" he repeated, one eyebrow leaping above the line of his glasses as the others turned back to the Master and the Doctor cursed under his breath, "I, uh…I don't think that's a good idea, whatever you're planning."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" The Doctor whispered, just loud enough for Steve and Thor shake their heads dismissively, for Bruce to shrug cautiously, and for Tony to mutter 'Don't worry about it dude.", "I should never have brought you here."
Steve gnawed momentarily on his lip before making another move; they needed to keep him talking, give the prisoners and Natasha time to get out, and then provoke a confrontation.
"What do you want with Bruce?" Steve inquired, keeping the tone polite; it would do no good to lose his temper, and the others would follow his lead rather than act on their frustration, "You have to know you can't control him."
At that moment the door to the left of the Master swung open and the guard that had left earlier marched back into place. In his wake strolled the man that Steve had seen on the kidnapping footage; the Irish one, with the cold, stilted facial expressions and dark close-cut styled hair. He was dressed in what Steve could only assume was a designer suit, and as he entered and meandered to take his place beside the Master, his face was hardened into a speculative glare as he surveyed the scene. Around him, Steve felt the others tense. The Master waved a flippant hand and rolled his eyes.
"Don't worry, this is just my new colleague-"
"Jim Moriarty…" the Irishman drawled, the words rolling and vacillating from his lips, which lifted minutely at the corners only to drop again as his eyes widened, as cold as ever; it occurred to Steve that this man, out of the two, was definitely insane, "Hi…"
"So you really raised this guy from the dead?" Tony mused, the morbid fascination leaking through his tinny voice even as he continued to point his charged gloves at the guards, who had, in the time that Steve had been distracted, wrapped their hands around their rifles and lifted their heads, actually watching the Avengers that they seriously outnumbered.
It was Moriarty that answered; his eyebrows were still pinched in disgruntlement, but his eyes lit up dully as they fell on Tony's suit.
"Of course he did," he answered, the cheerful demeanour tainted by the threatening, hateful edge to it, "This man has vision, but he's useless with admin and networking-no… his plans require someone with experience of the criminal world, or to be more exact…the head of a criminal empire."
"But what do you want with me?" Bruce's strained voice had every head turning back to him; Steve felt a pang of sympathy for the man. He was gripping his wrist tightly and appeared to be inhaling deeply to calm himself; Tony had moved closer to him in a show of support. The sympathy was crushed somewhat by the sudden realisation that they could only allow Bruce to become a certain amount of scared before they were in trouble; the Hulk may have helped in New York, but that was Bruce's decision, and in the open air.
The Master's low chuckle filled the room as Moriarty continued to stare pensively about the space.
"I need your DNA." The Master said, and his playful self-congratulatory tone harshened and cut the air like a frozen rotor blade, "I'm going to combine your DNA, with some Timelord DNA - which makes your presence a great help Doctor, now I won't have to start cutting myself up – and then I'm going to set lose a small, but powerful army."
"You need to stop this!" The Doctor begged, and he made to stride forward but Steve stopped him just as Bruce intoned,
"You'll have a hard time ruling a planet that's been flattened." He noted dryly.
The Master gave a full-on laugh that echoed horribly off the cold stone walls. His hands tightened and retracted around the railing that he continued to lean on.
"But I want to flatten it! I don't care about Earth anymore; that's the Doctor's stomping ground, I just want it gone." He hissed, the sadistic joy stretching and distorting his features, "and once I've done that, I can have a go at the seat of power… Earth's nothing next to Asgard!"
Thor made a sound of fury and Steve saw Mjolnir begin swinging; the guards either side of them stiffened and the rifles rose. He tensed, ready to start fighting, even though he knew they might not get out unscathed; hopefully Natasha had got the civilians out. He didn't have time to find out as Moriarty raised a hand.
"Stop!" he yelled; Steve hadn't realised that such a violent, stabbing shout could come out of such a small man, whose previous words had been nothing but suave and lilting, "We're missing one! Where's Sherlock Holmes?"
Steve shared a sideways glance with the Doctor, and saw that the others were sharing equally wary stares. Nobody seemed to know why they weren't being shot at yet.
"It doesn't matter!" the Master snapped, glaring irritably at Moriarty (this argument must have happened before), "I know how these heroes work, once the civilians are out, they'll come here to help their friends."
"NO THEY WON'T!" Moriarty roared, which made the Master turn away from the Avengers, none of who knew what to do, and listen to him directly, "I KNOW SHERLOCK! HE'LL NEVER LEAD THE GROUP BACK TO US, HE'LL JUST TAKE WATSON AND GO!"
Steve regrettably had to agree; Sherlock wasn't a bad guy, but he had one goal in mind, and out of all the Avengers, Natasha and Clint were the most likely to retreat back to base and wait for them to return under their own steam.
The Master had clearly come to the same conclusion, as his bemused expression dropped as the realisation of his faulty plan dawned on him. The team flinched unanimously as he whirled on the guards.
"GET AFTER THEM!" he screamed, and about half of the guards ran haphazardly through the doors as his tirade continued, "DO NOT LET THEM OUT!"
"Be ready to fight your way out…" the Doctor whispered in Steve's ear. He nodded dutifully and gestured to Tony and Thor, who nodded their assent. Bruce was still dragging in deep breaths, but he was holding it together.
Moriarty was pacing back and forth across the raised platform, his arms folded and his fingers stroking his chin in agitation; he called over his shoulder to the remaining guards (which Steve was sure they could take down now that the numbers were depleted).
"Kill them."
The Master shook his head and sighed in a put-upon manner.
"Well go on!" he corroborated, and without a cursory look, he strode through the door at the back of the room. Moriarty gave the group one last sharky grin as they back up together, dropping into battle stance, their weapons held aloft.
"Bring me Holmes!" he ordered the guards, and then swept from the room in the Master's wake.
The gunshots smashed the eerie quiet before Steve had time to instruct the group; he swung his shield around hastily as the guards rushed forward, catching sight of Thor's hammer whizzing angrily through the air, and the blasts from Tony's suit flashing dangerously off the walls. The cacophony of explosions, like misshaped footsteps barrelling on all sides, was interrupted only by the deafening squeal of the Doctor's screwdriver as he pointed it here and there, dancing around the rain of bullets by sheer luck.
"IT'S TIME TO GO!" Steve yelled, barely making himself heard. Somewhere in the mess, he heard Tony repeating his words, but before he could take proper notice, he was forced to slam his shield into the collarbone of another guard that had appeared at his side in an attempt to jam the butt of his rifle in the soldier's face.
Rose leapt to her feet, only able to stand now that the initial panic at what she was seeing wore off. As she deserted her perch on the laboratory desk, gasping at the mess and confusion on the screen before her, Loki remained deathly still in the chair beside her, his hands placed upon his lap. This was…strange. The threat to Asgard brought about a kind of ingrained worry (it was his home, regardless of what had happened), and he did feel some concern for Thor among the rabble (he would be able to get out though, most definitely), but overall, it was just strange to watch the Avengers fighting another enemy.
Loki looked up quickly, affronted, when Rose's hand collided with the back of his head, and he realised belatedly that she had been talking to him.
"What?" he asked petulantly; he pursed his lips in frustration (he had suffered far too much inconvenience today).
Rose's face was contorted with helplessness, and her hands were clenching by her sides; her blonde hair was messy and ratted, as if she'd been running her hands through it.
"I said 'Don't just sit there!', We've got to try and help!" she insisted. Her deep brown eyes were begging him to do…anything, but Loki couldn't find the energy to bother. In fact, he knew he should probably been ashamed of it, but he couldn't help the dull, bubbling pleasure that had settled in his gut at the events on the screen. It was like watching Bildgesnipe fighting each other; messy and horrific, but almost entertaining.
"and what would you have me do?" he replied after a moment's mock thought, his eyebrows raised in a picture of innocence. Rose made a frustrated, furious noise in the back of her throat, and once she had hurled the glass flasks from the desk at him (to which he felt a sense of victory at his firm refusal to flinch- he'd had worse pain), stormed from the lab, her footsteps ringing.
Loki glanced back at the screen, which was still a scramble of colour and noise; the room felt empty now, too dull (and a little bit lonely). It would be entertaining to watch the mortals scrabbling about and working themselves up over this mess, if nothing else. With a sigh, Loki hoisted himself to his feet, the chains around his wrists clanking against each other.
The dark travelling cloak that still hung around his shoulders clipped his heels as Loki followed the direction that Rose had taken, and moments later he found himself stepping through the sliding doors onto the Bridge, which was abuzz with activity. He felt a jolt of enjoyment, and then annoyance, as the pale-faced agents pushed past him, and continued down the steps to where Rose was yelling and gesturing wildly at Fury.
"I told you Miss Tyler! I saw the footage, and I'm working on it!" Fury barked at the young woman, sparing only an acidic glare for Loki as he sidled up beside her (she too glared at him, but ignored him in favour of continuing her argument – to the god's frustration), "Hill! Get one jet down there to remove the civilians!"
"Yes Sir!" Agent Hill parroted back; as she shouldered past Loki he was treated to another caustic glare. Rose didn't give up, putting herself in Fury's path.
"You've gotta get the others out as well!" She demanded, desperately pleading with him, "You can't let them fight their way out, they'll never make it! Get them out, and then blow that place up; I've been told about that Master bloke, and he's dangerous!"
Fury stopped in his tracks and met Rose's gaze; nobody breathed for a moment, and then Fury rolled his good eye and shouted over his shoulder.
"Get the choppers out and pull them from the building if you have to!" he ordered, "Then bring us around and get us over that base!"
Rose sighed in relief and leant into Loki's side as the agents around them got to work. He didn't share the sentiment, but watched nonetheless as events began to take a turn for the worse on the large monitor across the room. This was going to be interesting.
It hadn't really occurred to Sherlock that they might not get out alive until they reached the door to the outside, and he was hit by a gust of icy wind that didn't quite muffle the frantic footsteps that echoed viciously off the halls behind them. Tony's cries that it was time to leave had come through on Natasha's radio, and she'd thrown off any guise of stealth and instructed them to run as fast as they could. Sherlock had to agree; he didn't want to find out what either Jane or Donna would look like in a fight.
Clint and Natasha took up position either side of the door, allowing the others to hurry into the snow and the biting chill. John's hand was ripped from his as the soldier fastened his grip on the service revolver.
"John! We've got to go!" Sherlock shouted over the roar of the wind; they needed to leave. They needed to leave right now before he and John were in any more danger.
"Go where Sherlock?" John replied sharply, "The others aren't here yet, and I reckon I can hold the guards off until they get here." Sherlock growled and shook his head, grasping John's good shoulder, but he was shrugged off, "Sherlock, just get the girls back to whatever vehicle you came in."
Sherlock gritted his teeth as he watched John line up beside the spies. There was nothing he could say to persuade John now that his mind was made up, but that didn't stop him wanting to. Reluctantly, he looked to Jane and Donna, who were hugging their arms against themselves against the cold; Donna was still clutching the pipe close to her chest. Bloody Hell, he thought.
"Are you up for a walk?" he asked as confidently as he could, setting his jaw; John was right, the women needed to get away before things got rough, and the detective wasn't heartless, not really, "The jet's not far from here."
"But we can't take off without the others!" Jane insisted; Donna nodded her agreement, but her teeth were chattering too fast for words to come out. Despair swan-dived in his gut, and Sherlock knew she was right; they couldn't leave yet, but the guards were almost on top of them.
Sherlock spun agitatedly on the spot, his shoes kicking up the snow as his hands grasped at his hair. Suddenly, there a harsh light fell upon them, momentarily blinding him, and it was only then that he noticed the sound of engines over the wind that rushed through the air. He realised what was happening a moment before the jet swooped down to hover feet off the ground, and he pulled grabbed the two women by the arms, and pulling them out of the way.
The hatch to the jet opened up as it rocked in the air, and an agent yelled above the noise.
"GET IN! WE'RE SENDING HELP TO THE OTHERS!"
Sherlock didn't need any more encouragement; he pushed Jane and Donna into the arms of the awaiting agents, and took a moment to check that John was following. They must have seen what was happening and understood, as when armed guards burst from the building, Natasha and Clint were sprinting past him onto the jet, leaping aboard with practised ease.
John was only a fraction slower, and he grabbed Sherlock's hand as he passed, pulling him aboard as well, the two of them hitting the floor of the jet as gunshots ripped through the air and bullets ricocheted off the closing hatch and the jet screeched into the sky.
Steve cursed bad timing and SHIELD, and Fury, and anything he could think of. They had taken out about half of the guards, but more had returned, apparently having lost the prisoners (small mercies), and just as the sound of helicopters above sounded, Bruce lost control.
He heard an agonised groan, more of a scream, and then out of the corner of his eye, through the fighting, he saw Bruce fall to his knees and begin to convulse. He heard the Doctor shouting to himself about how 'This is not good, this is really, very, not good'.
Before he was fully aware of what was happening, a blood-curdling roar tore through the air, and moments later three guards were thrown away in front of Steve's eyes as the Hulk barrelling his way across the room, green, growling, spittle flying everywhere. He was panicking, the space too small, too much going on, which would make him completely uncontrollable.
Most of the guards gave up any pretence of fighting and fled as quickly as they could, the rest battled on, but seemed to forget that there were other, less transformed, Avengers to tackle. Tony was yelling something at the Hulk as he hovered just out of reach, and Thor was attempting to keep the guards away from them both, swinging his hammer as the Doctor chattered on and on, his screwdriver poised, whirring pathetically at the Hulk's ignorant rage.
Suddenly there were harsh lights, red and white, blaring into the room, and a cold, icy wind. Steve froze and, peering over the arm held up to shade his eyes, saw that the roof had been taken clean off the building. There was so much noise that he hadn't heard it happen. Even stranger, and a great relief, was the sight of the Helicarrier gliding into view, settling over the abandoned base, and the smaller helicopter edging over the fresh gap, its hatch fixed open.
However, the added confusion just intensified the Hulk's anger, and with a rattling roar that shook the remaining walls, he knocked Thor and the Doctor off their feet and into the raised platform. Steve rushed over to help the smaller man as Thor righted himself, but the Timelord just brushed himself off and kept murmuring about 'the right setting'.
Tony appeared at Steve's shoulder and yelled as loud as he could (aided by Iron Man speakers).
"FURY SAYS TO GET IN THE CHOPPER! WE NEED TO FALL BACK!"
As the last of the guards finally realised that they couldn't stand up against the Hulk, who was taking every piece of the room he could find and tearing it to shreds, the room began to clear, leaving only the path of destruction to deal with. Nodding the affirmative, Steve followed Tony into the helicopter, panting as he watched Thor dodge a swing from the Hulk to grab the Doctor, hurl him over his shoulder and run the two of them into the vehicle.
"What about Banner!" Thor asked, as the Helicopter began to rise; he too was gasping for breath. The Hulk took another swipe, this time at the Helicopter, catching the rim, but the pilot jerked from his grasp, flying them higher into the sky, under the shelter of the Helicarrier.
"The two nut-jobs have gone, so we can just wait for him to wear himself out." Tony gasped, his chest heaving as he pulled the mask from his face. Steve dropped an arm around his shoulders.
The Doctor shook his head gravely, and with a jolt of misgiving, Steve followed his line of sight, which covered the still fuming Hulk. He realised a moment too late that Tony had been wrong.
A beam of green light, thick and fast, shot through the air, narrowly missing the Helicarrier. The heat from it was so intense that Steve could feel it radiating on the flesh of his cheeks.
"Shit! They're still there!" Tony cursed, and there was a clang as his mask hit the floor roughly. Another beam of light cut through the air, this time grazing the edge of one of the large engines.
"We can't leave him here with them!" Steve shouted to the pilot. He had no idea what to do.
The Doctor pushed to the front of the group and gripped the top of the still open hatch.
"You tell the pilots and Fury to leave the area." The Doctor instructed, and any protest that Steve tried to voce was cut off by a stern, undeniable look that made him understand why Thor was so adamant that this was a powerful and feared warrior, "I'll stay with him."
With that he threw himself from the aircraft, Thor's hands too slow to stop him. Steve could just about hear a screaming, feminine voice emanating from Tony's discarded mask, but he ignored that, too focused on the flood of relief as the Timelord's shrinking form hopped to its feet. He hadn't realised that he wasn't doing anything until Tony slipped from his embrace and spoke into the radio, telling Fury to get out of the area.
As the Helicopter began to move hastily through the air, away from the base, and the Helicarrier whirred louder above as it powered away into the higher air, Steve couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn that he saw the Doctor lifting his right arm (presumably wielding his screwdriver), and the Hulking green mass swaying slightly, stumbling and dropping to the ground.
It's been a while, so I have written a chapter far longer than any of the previous ones. There was a lot to pack into this, so I hope you all like it :)
Let me know what you think?