A/N: hey look, it's been almost two months, not that anyone cared. For those not in the know, Allegiance Swap means a "good guys are bad, bad guys are good" type of premise. The prompt didn't specify if the whole 'verse should be swapped, or just the characters in question, so, for the purposes of the story, the whole universe have been swapped.
Huge thanks to Fanny, without whom this chapter would have never seen the light of day.
Warning: graphic depictions of violence, character death.
Much More Dangerous
...
Stark Tower, New York
The sun was barely up yet, its pale light casting cold blue shadows across the sleeping city. Tony was looking at it for what felt like hours, standing near the window of the penthouse, the cigarette in his hand having died out a long time ago.
Something felt off. In these troubled hours of the morning nothing was ever set, and Tony's head was filled with the voices of the ghosts.
We're iron mongers. We make weapons. And what we do keeps the world from falling into chaos.
Howard loved to say this. He though it his job to protect the world with the weapons so powerful and deadly humanity will never think to actually use them against each other. He thought himself the preserver of world peace, and he raised his son to be his perfect heir in this mission.
But Tony went further. He realized something Howard didn't: there was no weapon horrible enough for humanity not to use under the "right" circumstances. The only one you could trust with it is yourself, and the only logical solution to the problem is to take peacekeeping into your own hands.
And so he did. The Afghanistan Incident turned out a blessing in disguise for this noble purpose, providing Tony with a basis, and a kick, for something that will soon become the Stark Energizer. During its initial presentation he called it a "memorial to his father", and it certainly was – a stable, cheap source of clean energy distributed via ever growing satellite network was something Howard strived, but never actually managed to accomplish with the shackles the technology of his age has put on him.
Controlling the power supplies of the world quickly gave Tony access to the amounts of influence he needed to establish his positions – and his forces - in the key regions of the "free world". The road from there on was bloody, long, but consistently successful. The drone Iron Men – the second marvel to come out of the Incident - comprised the bulk of the Stark Peacekeeping Corps, but machines were ultimately nothing without people, and so the Corps had to expand and include the literal armies of civil peacekeeping and the Strategic World Organization for Reestablishing Democracy.
Some people called it his "empire". They branded him a tyrant, a modern conqueror, a villain. They lamented the loss of their "freedoms", as if any of them knew what to do with one when they had it. They said he conquered the world, but it wasn't what Tony himself would call it. From his point of view, it took some time, some sweat, and one hell of a lot of sacrifices, but now Anthony Stark could proudly say that he did something no-one has managed before him: he has privatized world peace. He kept the world from falling into chaos of the uncontrolled military activity.
Almost. Of course, there were still dissidents, stubborn imbeciles stuck in their selfish ways, and some Districts still struggled against the new order, but it was all a matter of time. They didn't see that their "resistance" was causing more casualties than a simple fucking acceptance ever would, so they kept throwing bodies at him and then blame him for the massacres they themselves provoked. But they will see. They will see, they will see he is right or…
Shit, Tony thought in anger, throwing the cold cigarette into the almost empty glass of whiskey on the nightstand. He was doing a good job, wasn't he? Every obstacle, every sacrifice counted. Every single body they threw at him was on their hands, every fucking group of idiot "rebels" he put down was a step in the right direction, and he was not going to make excuses. They will come around. They will have to. They will treat him like the fucking god's gift he is to them.
He will make them to.
There was some slight disturbance behind him, and a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"I told you I hate it when you smoke."
"I told you I don't care," he said without turning around.
There was a sigh, and the rustling of fabric. Tony turned his head slightly, catching a glance of Natasha's naked breasts before she bent down to pick up her bra from the floor.
"What time is it?" she asked, dragging a hand through her tousled hair. "I need to be at the 'carrier at 0900. Operation Emerald Hills begins today."
She disappeared in the bathroom after that, and got out not even ten minutes later, all clean and fresh and perfectly beautiful. Days like these, it felt like she was the only beautiful thing left in Tony's life.
"Tasha, do you… do you like what you do?" he asked, eyes still on the whiskey glass.
"You mean what I'm doing with you?" she smirked, coming closer.
"No. What you do as your job."
"Of course. That's why I keep doing it," she said. "Why? Are you afraid I won't 'like' securing the specimen because some idiot General's report suggested that it should be classified as human? Please. It can turn into a thousand pound abomination, it is no more human than Xavier and his freaks," she scowled in annoyance.
"Xavier is our ally now."
"For the time being." When Tony didn't reply, she squinted her eyes a little and crossed her hands on her chest. "Wait a moment. Are you having an identity crisis?" she asked impatiently. "Because I'm not dealing with that bullshit."
"I'm not having a fucking crisis," Tony hissed at her through clenched teeth.
"Good," she frowned. "You've got a world to rule. And if it's because of the setbacks in Brazil and Ossetia, then, well, of course the liberals would like to paint you like some kind of a monster, that's what they do to people who actually accomplish things. And you're one of those people. You're doing what needs to be done, and it pisses them off. End of story."
"Dad liked to say it too," Tony scoffed. "That what we do is a necessary evil in a kind of world we live in."
"Evil is a subjective term," Natasha said simply, and there was something peculiar about her eyes then, something Tony couldn't quite pinpoint, like something was… missing. "All right, I really gotta go," she added, turning around and heading for the door. She stopped in the doorframe for a moment, giving him a last smile and a little wave of her hand. "See you after the Operation, Stark."
"Don't get yourself killed," he said quietly, a moment before she shut the door after herself. He wasn't actually worried. Natasha Romanoff was a professional. She knew what she was doing.
And so did he.
The sun shined in red and gold over the city. There was another thing his Dad liked to say.
Beware of the day it stops to repulse you, my boy. That would be a sign of you going too far.
That was Dad's favorite part. He never got tired of repeating it, usually into a half-full glass of scotch.
The only thing was, it stopped repulsing Tony decades ago. He didn't even remember a time when it did. His work was hard, and more often than not it called for harsh measures, but he never understood how Father seemed so burdened with what he did, how all his wealth and power seemed to weigh like stones on his shoulders.
He wasn't going to dwell on it now. After all, he still had so, so much work ahead of him.
And really, how wrong could it really be if it feels so damn right?
Kolkata, India
The air was hot and wet and thick with the smell of raw dirt. The cabin's fickle light reflected brightly in the man's glasses and hid his eyes.
"I assume the place is surrounded?"
The woman smiled. "It is. You are not getting away this time."
"Oh," the man said, taking off the glasses, folding them and laying them carefully on the table. When he looked up at the woman again, there was a tense, savage grin on his face. "But what if I say 'no'?"
Agent Hill spotted some discrepancy in the rocky surface below her, and brought the helicopter closer to it. The unconscious man's body looked almost white among the black rocks, covered only in smears of blood, both red and dark green.
"Home base, Home base, it's Green-three. I have located the specimen, now descending for pick-up."
"Acknowledged, Green-three. Do you require assistance?"
"Negative. Estimated time of return - 0400 hours."
"Green-three, we are unable to establish contact with the Green-main team and Agent Romanoff. Can you give us an update on their status?"
Agent Hill turned off the engine of the 'copter, unbuckled the shoulder and lap harnesses and picked up the rifle charged with the tranquilizer shots.
"Yeah, I can, sir," she said, eyes fixed on the body lying outside. "They're all dead. The specimen's killed them all."
Castle Doom, Hasselstadt, Latveria
"I understand what you are trying to do, Victor, I'm just not sure I am up to the task."
"Nonsense. You're exactly what we need right now, Eric."
"What you need is...is some sort of charismatic leader, an inspiring individual like... Howlett, for example. And I'm anything but."
"Howlett switches sides to often to be trusted. Last time I checked, he was with Xavier's gang. And you... you are our best hope, Eric. After Essex's tragic demise you must take his place as the voice of mutants. Those few that are still not corrupted by the influence of Stark's empire, anyway."
"You think Xavier works for Stark?"
"Absolutely. After all, he needs substantial financing for his projects as well as The Asylum, and who's better to provide it than the World's Richest Man himself? Your clash a few weeks ago - I wouldn't be surprised if it was contracted by the Iron Monger."
"And that's the other reason... We barely got out of that one with our lives and I don't...I don't want to put kids in that sort of danger anymore. Wanda is still learning to properly control her abilities, and all I wanted was to find a safe haven for her and Pietro…"
"And that's where you fail to understand that soon enough there will be no safe anywhere, Eric. Look around! Look at the world - is this what you want to leave to your children? This insanity, this empire, ran by a weapons dealer and his secret police? My sources indicate that S.W.O.R.D. has been able to capture the Gamma Beast and is now trying to brainwash it to their cause. If they succeed - where do you plan to find safe on this planet? You've seen what happened to Genosha, haven't you? Sure, Latveria is better off than most, and Russian District is still kicking, what with the Dynamo technology and all, but it is not enough, my friend. It's not even close. Look, I... I'm not putting any terms or anything - it's completely yours a call to make. If you say no, you're still welcome to stay here as long as you want…"
"And if I say yes?"
"If you say yes, then... I've been working on a project lately. An idea. To gather a group of remarkable people - brilliant scientists, engineers, and even occult specialists - trustworthy people who believe that the time has come and it's now or never... People who, put together, could fight battles they never could fight on their own. Could destroy Anthony Stark's golden throne. Could bring the tyrant down."
Helicarrier Mark VI, somewhere over New York Bight
These days, Tony rarely used his office on the Helicarrier. Nick handled most of the projects here so Tony could concentrate his attention on Stark Energizer network complexes in the South American District, and he was doing a pretty decent job out of it.
Still, there were some interesting developments in the Stark Industries' latest acquisition, and Tony wanted to see them with his own eyes. Operation Emerald Hills ended in a disastrous loss of personnel, including some very… important agents, but it was still technically a success. The resulting Project Gamma's potential seemed unlimited, and the specimen, once properly conditioned, could be of great use in disposing of the last of the centers of resistance in the Asian and African districts, as well as a bunch of those European liberal radicals led by von Doom, whatever was the name of their little gang…
Which he would actually get at if his assistant just stopped screwing around with his schedule on a regular basis.
"I-I'm very sorry, Mr. Stark," the girl bleated meekly over the speakerphone. "There is no excuse. I will reschedule the Council meeting to 3 p.m., and keep you informed on General Rhodes's progress in the Russian District. This will n-not happen again."
"It better not to," Tony said curtly, before pressing the button on the intercom to end the call. "Useless girl..." he muttered under his breath.
"Still having problems with the new PA?" Steve smirked from where he stood near the wall-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bight. He was Tony's oldest (and what now felt like only) friend, and the engineer appreciated his presence.
He put his hands in his pockets and turned around to look at Steve from his desk. "Yeah, well, Pepper was perfect, you know. Even, what, four years later… Absolutely perfect. It's a fucking shame that she had to betray me like that, try to kill me and steal my company..." he sighed. "I mean, how am I supposed to trust people now?"
They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before bursting out laughing at the same time.
"It just never gets old, does it?" Steve chuckled. "How out of all the ambitious dimwitted bimbos trying to get the job you managed to pick out the only ambitious and intelligent, not to mention unscrupulous and back-stabbing, bitch to be your PA."
"I was mostly looking at her legs at the time," Tony shrugged with a grin. "Speaking of unscrupulous, back-stabbing bitches though," he said, pressing another button on the intercom panel. "Dr. Ross, I would like a report on the Project Gamma."
A holographic display sprung to life at his words, and the image of a spacy, pristinely clean medical facility appeared before the two men. A tall dark-haired woman stood just in front of the camera, and a large, round glass construction could be seen in the background.
"The project is going steadily, Mr. Stark," the woman said, her expression a mixture of annoyance and resignation. "Some of the techniques and materials on pain stimulation offered to us by Dr. Pym brought in a lot of additional data, which, by my calculations, should speed up the conditioning process to at longest a month."
Steve noticed some motion in the glass construction area, and thought that he heard some muffled screams coming from there. Ugly screams. Hollow and hopeless and without any restraint.
"You've been going at it for a week already, Doctor, do you think there wasn't enough pain stimulation?" Tony asked tiredly.
Dr. Ross frowned at that, clearly more annoyed than resigned now.
"Mr. Stark, do I have to remind you that to actually control the monster you have to gain control of the core personality first, i.e. the man?" she said slowly, her voice controlled and cold. "And breaking a man's mind isn't as easy as breaking his skull. You'll need precision and time, and Dr. Samson supports me in…"
"If I wanted to hear the loverboy's opinion I would've asked him, Dr. Ross," Tony cut off impatiently. "Just tell me, is it…"
He didn't get to finish that phrase, as just at that time a massive explosion rocked the Helicarrier. Tony lost his balance and would have fallen to the floor if not for Steve catching him reflectively.
The holographic feed cut off in a whizz of static, and Tony tried a couple of buttons on the panel with zero effect. Another explosion, smaller or just more distant, echoed through the whole structure of the airship, and Tony gripped the side of the table so as not to fall over this time. The emergency sirens flared up, and Steve suddenly caught a distinct smell of burnt metal and circuitry in the air.
Tony cursed loudly and went over the intercom panel once more. This time it produced an unsteady sound-only signal link mixed with a heavy dose of background static.
"Nick, what the hell is going on?" Tony barked, nails digging into the metal of the table.
The static crackled loudly for a few moments before they heard a faint, faraway sound of a voice.
"The Helicarrier is under attack, sir, the hostiles have breached the hull on the second and third decks, reports indicate that they are led by von Doom…"
"Shit, are there…"
This phrase was also lost in the thunderous roar of another blast, this time much, much closer. The shock wave has thrown the both men off their feet, and Steve saw a huge gash on Tony's forehead from where it collided with the floor, and barely heard the frantic, desperate words from the speaker, mixed with the sounds of fire and pain.
"Sir, Engine 3 is critically damaged," Nick Fury reported in haste."The hostiles have breached the first deck's outer perimeter, security feeds spotted Ivan Vanko, Eric Lehnsherr and a subject matching the description of Loki."
Steve cursed under his breath, scrambling to get to his feet again. Fucking liberals, thinking they are saving the world…
"Sir… it's the Avengers."
Tony tried to work through the haze in his head that clouded his sight and muffled all the sounds, but it was increasingly harder to do so. He smelled smoke, burnt meat and metal, and thought he heard someone yell "They got to the containment labs! Evacuate now!", but it might have all been a dream.
He stretched out his hands, clutching at the wall, making his way down the maintenance corridor to the hangars. His head throbbed with pain, and some of his ribs were most definitely bruised, but he refused to stop for a second. Steve went to fight back the main hostile forces on the first deck, and Tony had his own things to take care of.
The suit. He only needed to get to the suit, and avoid Lehnsherr, and get to the suit, now, before they ruined everything…
The structure shook, and the sharp shriek of the siren cut at Tony's ears like a razor as something exploded in a shower of sparks right in front of his face.
He heard, felt the metal of the nearby bulkhead ripping, saw a massive bulging form tear right through it with a terrifyingly loud roar, and flinched back instinctively, hitting his head painfully on the hard surface of the hull.
The form rushed through a hole in the bulkhead, the wounds caused by its jugged edges healing almost instantly. It was a sight to behold - a massive heap of green muscles, shifting, tensing and rippling, rumbling and growling as it snuffed the air and seared everything with the blazing green of its glare.
And then it stopped abruptly, fixing its gaze on Tony, and he could swear, for a second there, its eyes flicked deep brown and it... grinned.
"And I told Ross to hurry up," Tony muttered, leaning heavily on the wall, "I fucking told her."
And then everything went dark.
It wasn't something specific. No sudden sound or touch, no flash of light or a distinct smell. He just woke up, and for a second there he didn't feel a damn thing.
Then the pain came.
Tony wanted to cry out, but got a hold of himself quickly, and gritted his teeth, so the cry came out more like a loud, laboured exhale. Unfortunately, it raised a large puff of dust from the ground, that immediately got into Tony's nose, mouth and eyes, and his whole body shuddered in a fit of coughing and spitting. The motion only intensified the sharp ache in his bones, but also allowed him a moment of clarity to reflect on his position.
Sprawled on the ground. Not on the Helicarrier. Direct sunlight, lots of dust in the air, on the ground, on his wounds. Injured. Cuts and bruises. No clothes or shoes, just his briefs. Huh.
How the hell did he get here? The last thing he remembered were explosions, ripping metal, a green shadow…
The attack.
"We seem to, uh… have crashed here," Tony heard from somewhere above him. A soft, slightly mumbling voice. "The big guy got a bit overzealous with smashing through your ship, and I don't really know where we are now."
There was a sound, not unlike the rustling of fabric, and Tony tried to push himself up on the elbows to take a look at the speaking man, but his left arm gave out from under him, and he fell face first into the dust with a short gasp of pain.
"Some kind of warehouse or something," the voice continued, as if not noticing Tony's mishap at all. "No-one's around. I mean, there was a guard, but he won't bother us anymore." A sigh and a sound of steps getting closer. "So I guess it's gonna be it then."
Tony whipped his head to catch a glimpse of the stranger, then scrambled quickly to his feet, ignoring the shots of pain coursing through his body. "Who the fuck are you?"
Not a couple of yards away from him there stood a man. Not very tall, tanned, covered in dust and… buttoning up Tony's shirt.
"What, you were expecting to see the big guy?" the man smirked. "That's understandable. But, well, he got bored after he brought you here and, besides, I really wanted to do this myself."
There was something ruthless, borderline predatory in the stranger's eyes, so Tony took a couple of steps back to put some distance between them, only to run into a wall with his bare back. He watched as the man got closer, looking pointedly at the exposed Arc reactor. "I wonder what this is supposed to be."
Tony flinched away, but stumbled on a piece of cinderblock lying on the ground, and barely managed to prevent another fall. He heaved a deep shaky breath that sent waves of fire through his ribs, and lifted his eyes at the stranger, only to find that the smirk on his face went wider and turned into a full-blown sneer. Something seemed familiar to Tony in that weary, dirty face, and he squinted his eyes to take a better look through the pain-induced haze, when it suddenly clicked. Of course, he had only seen it once or twice on a small blurred photo from the file Tasha has assembled, but there could be no mistake.
It was him. The specimen.
"Banner?!" he rasped, trying to move against the wall and away from the man. This was not going to end well. "How the… how are you…"
"Stop right there," Banner ordered quietly, taking out the gun from behind his belt, aiming it at Tony in one swift, fluid motion. He held it firmly, with both hands, like it was supposed to be held, and the expression on his face was hard as stone. "This isn't exactly how I wanted it to go already, so please don't exacerbate it further by trying to 'escape'."
"Do you suggest I roll over and let you tie me up?" Tony asked in anger.
"That was the plan," Banner shrugged. "Well, actually I'd prefer a lab table and some titanium handcuffs," he said, making another small step towards Tony, "but I'd have to make do with what I've got, you know?"
Tony knew, knew exactly how the man felt and what he wanted to do with his hostage. He also knew that he had to find a way out of this situation, and do it soon.
"You were pumped with suppressants. How are you not out of it?" he asked quickly, stalling for time. He couldn't spot any potential weapons in the vicinity, and the only viable exit was on the other side of the warehouse, but there was a large heap of mangled concrete and reinforcement rods on his way to it…
Banner chuckled, a low, dark sound without any trace of happiness. "There is just so much more about rage, Mr. Stark, than is dreamt of in your philosophy…"
…if only he could disarm Banner, or even neutralize him, he got the training, shit, how was it again…
"All you have to do is embrace it."
Tony didn't bother to listen to the end of that sentence as he dashed forward, hitting the other man hard on the right wrist. Banner's grip on the gun loosened, and the weapon fell off from his right hand, but he was quick enough to grab Tony's shoulder with his left, smashing it into a wall and following with a punch, swift and hard, right into Tony's solar plexus, making all the bruises and fractures and cuts explode in the engineer's body, all his nerves ignite and pierce as all the air came out of him in a rush.
"Aaah! You fuck!" Tony cried out once he was able to breathe again. That only made the other man chuckle though, as he picked up the pistol and stepped closer, thrusting a gun's barrel under Tony's chin, tossing his head back forcefully.
"You wound me, Mr. Stark."
The gun's position on his neck made Tony want to cough, but he resisted the urge and tried to be as still as possible, struggling to get his breathing under control. "W-what, you working for Doom?" he rasped, biding himself some more time, his breath whizzing through his clenched teeth. "Wanna be a big fucking hero?"
There was a condescending, pitying gaze on Banner's face as he dug the muzzle a little further in Tony's neck. "Hero? You and I perfectly know there is no such thing."
Tony's next breath almost ended in a choke, and he felt a piercing spike of pain in the chest area. Shit, if something was wrong with the reactor he had to settle this quickly.
"What then?" he growled at the other man, even though it came out more like a gargle. "Money? You know I can fucking shower you in cash…"
"Don't embarrass yourself, Mr. Stark."
It crossed Tony's mind then that probably, just probably, he wasn't getting out of this alive. That the reason his heart was still pumping blood was not that this man wanted something from him, be it a ransom or a payment, or Tony's skills or connections.
It was a cat, playing with the mouse before eating it.
And as Banner looked at Tony with that disturbingly uneven crook of lips that substituted him a smile, an old quote came to Tony's mind about staring into the abyss. Because something about Banner's eyes looked an awful lot like… nothing, an empty space somewhere deep at the man's core, where it mattered, like a gaping wound. Tony knew that look, saw it before in Tasha's beautiful green eyes, on their last morning together, before she left for the mission she never came back from.
Well, Tony was not going down so easily.
"So it's just about revenge then?" he scoffed tiredly, wriggling his neck slightly, positioning his foot just a tiny bit to the left. "You get your kick watching me expire?"
Banner frowned at that. "You captured and tortured me, Mr. Stark. And yet, this isn't about my personal entertainment. This is about making a point, so all of your friends will never have an idea to come after me again with bigger needles, because I am, frankly, sick of running and hiding. So I am going to make an example out of you," he said, raising his hand, keeping it just above Tony's chest. "A warning."
But then, taking a small pause as his cue, Tony jerked his head violently to the side, then ducked, and threw his shoulders forward, hitting the other man with them in the chest, bringing up his knee at the same time to give a hard kick at the man's groin.
Banner faltered, doubling in pain, and Tony seized the opportunity, grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him into the wall with all the force he could muster. There was a subtle crack of bone against brick, a muffled cry, but Tony wasn't staying for the show. He wasn't even interested in trying to wrestle out the gun again, as all his instincts screamed at him to run.
He got as far as three steps away before a low, sharp growl pierced his ears, followed closely by the sounds of gunshots, one, two, he could make it, three, just two more steps around the pile of concrete, just one more…
Then a fourth shot rang out, and all of a sudden Tony's face was colliding painfully with the ground, and dust was filling his lungs instead of air, and white hot pain burned through his right hip.
He cried out, but even his cry couldn't drown out the heavy, rumbling breathing above him, or the sickening cracking of his ribs once the other man's foot kicked at them viciously, once and then again, rolling him onto his back, breaking the skin with the toe of Tony's own shoe.
Tony opened his eyes with great effort, and through the milky haze of pain he saw Banner kneeling over him, blood covering the side of his face, eyes hard and blazing green.
The man outstretched a hand, and pressed it to the reactor, fingers sliding over its edges, searching, then locking firmly into place. Tony's eyes widened in the knowledge of what was going to happen next, but he…
A turn, a click, a tug, a flash of white before his eyes, and Tony felt his blood go cold as he saw Banner standing before him with the Arc reactor clutched firmly in one of his hands.
"You son of a…" Tony tried to shout, but was cut off by a bolt of pain from his heart that made his mind go absolutely blank for a moment. He felt the shards near his heart shift somewhat, and panic flooded his conscience as a roaring wave. How much did he have? Not much, certainly, maybe minutes, fuck, who knew how much they had moved when Pepper's goons took it out four years ago, shit shit… "Give it back! Hear me?" he rasped, trying in vain to get up from the ground. "Give it back, fuck…"
"Or what?" Banner laughed, tossing the device up in his hand, as if playing with it. "What will happen, exactly, if it is not put back?"
"I'll die, that's what will happen, you fucking monster! Give it the fuck back!"
Banner's smile became smaller at that, colder, and so obviously fake it could have been painted on just as well. As Tony lunged with his good hand at the other man's arms, trying to knock out the reactor from him, Banner dodged effortlessly, and then whipped at Tony's face with the handle of the gun, sending the engineer's head reeling.
"I guess I am. A monster," he said, his voice a tight, barely controlled growl. "But when someone hits you and stabs you and cuts you open to see how you work, is it so wrong to want to get back at them? Is it so bad that doing it feels so damn good?" he said quietly, almost intimately, looking Tony straight in the eyes. "I like the way you look right now, Mr. Stark. Broken. Bloodied. Naked. All this anger and helplessness, it's exactly the way I feel most of the time."
There was that pitying twist to the man's lips again, and Tony was suddenly sorry, so sorry he wanted to hurry Ross on her 'pain stimulation' business. He should have given her all the time in the world, let her go as slowly and methodically as she liked, if only it meant the bastard would feel the same excruciating pain for every second of that time that Tony felt now.
"Cry me a fucking river, monster," he rasped, lifting himself on the elbows. "Two dozen agents sent after you were found dead. No, that's not even the right word. Crushed. Mutilated, torn apart. How helpless did you feel, mashing their bodies into a barely recognizable pulp of meat and blood?"
The pity was gone from Banner's grin then, replaced with cold, pure savage delight.
"I like to call things like that a 'necessary evil' in a kind of world I live in, Mr. Stark," he said in a low tone.
Tony wanted to lash out, to throw something bitter and demeaning at Banner, but the words got stuck in his throat.
Tony felt the shards of his smashed ribs pierce his tissues, and knew that his time was running out quickly. He could feel all the wounds on his body, his fast, frantic heartbeat, and, shit, it burned, burned in every goddamn nerve, and he didn't want to die like this, please, not like this, not half-naked, sprawled in the dust in the middle of fucking nowhere, at the mercy of a madman with empty eyes and empty smile, not him, not Tony fucking Stark, the Merchant of Death, the Man Who Conquered the World.
"It's what needed to be done," he heard Banner mutter under his breath, and then sigh, running a hand over his eyes, smearing the blood and dirt over them. "But let's not drag this out, shall we? As much as I would like to, this facility just isn't, uh, properly equipped. So, I can give you a quick way out, or would you rather your device do the job?"
Tony, decidedly over resisting the temptations, spat him in the face. That didn't seem to perturb Banner in the slightest though, seeing as he just wiped the spittle with the tips of his fingers and looked at Tony with 'oh, really?' written across his features.
Tony felt the haze beginning to settle in, felt the soft weakness warm its way throughout his body, and fought to stay conscious just as hard as he fought the aching bones and the pool of thick dark blood under his leg that prevented him from actually moving. But he was losing. The area around the reactor's case ached and burned, his fingers were almost numb, and his head felt heavier by the minute.
"It's not gonna end here," he rasped into Banner's face. "They'll gonna find you."
The man's lips curled into another fake grin, and he rose to his feet, swaying slightly, keeping a hand pressed to the side of his head.
"Who? Your little lapdogs from that giant carrier ship-thing? Doom's own hounds were managing them quite well before I left actually. I don't think they'll pose much of a threat."
Tony flinched violently as something inside of him got pierced in the most painful manner. His chest felt heavy, as if a weight was pressing it down, and it was hard to breathe, but he put all of his remaining strength to pushing his weight up so he was sitting upright now. "Y-you… seriously think," he got out between shallow gulps of stale air, "that's all of 'em? I've got a fucking empire. Whatever hole… you crawl into, whatever godforsaken corner of this earth… My death will change nothing – they'll still gonna hunt you down like a rat you are, for all the rest of your miserable existence. And then, when paranoia finally eats away your brain, they'll gonna have you and they'll put you down."
"No they won't, Mr. Stark. I cannot be killed."
"So you think."
"So I know," Banner muttered, eyes on the gun in his hand.
Tony squinted for a second, but then it hit him.
"You- you seriously tried to?.. and it d-didn't work?" He laughed, even though it strained all of his muscles and brought a bitter coppery taste in his mouth. "Jesus, can't even die like a man, huh, Banner? Gonna carry on like a fucking monster, a goddamned abomination you are, and…"
And there was suddenly a gun's muzzle under his chin again, pushing roughly at his throat, pushing his head hard into the ground, and Banner's face was mere inches from Tony's, his hot breath searing the engineer's cold, clammy skin.
"I am a human being," Banner growled, low and hoarse, eyes glowing an acidic green. "You think I'm an animal, a 'specimen', a weapon for you to own and aim, but I am human and I deserve to be treated as such. I will make them treat me as such," he added in a whisper, driving the gun even harder into Tony's throat, making him yelp and wheeze with his windpipe nearly crushed. "They think the other guy's a threat? They won't even see it coming."
Banner took the gun abruptly away at that, but only to hit Tony with it square on the face. Tony felt the hot blood leaking onto his skin, the searing pain of a fractured cheekbone, but his eyes got fixed on the former physicist in front of him - shaking, breathing loudly through his nose like an irritated bull, but without a trace of green on his skin. Tony spared a glance to the arc reactor in the man's other hand and noticed that it was now nothing more than a small crumpled piece of metal scrap and a few loose glass shards. Banner looked at it too, chuckled dejectedly, and threw it away.
Tony tried to get up once more, then winced right afterwards as the motion set off another wave of pain.
"It… would have failed, right?" he exhaled, a hint of wonder to his voice. "We wouldn't have broken you. Even in a… month… it would have failed."
Banner's eyes widened at that, but only for a moment, before he composed himself, heaved a shuddering sigh and made a funny motion with his free hand – reaching for the eyes, as if to grab something that clearly wasn't there.
"Thanks for the clothes, Mr. Stark, I always liked yellow," he said quietly after a pause, then raised the pistol at Tony's head. "Any last words?"
God, Tony felt so tired. He needed a fucking vacation. He hasn't had a vacation since Pepper's death, and that was clearly way too long.
"I'm not… sorry… for wanting to use… the creature."
"I thought as much," Banner murmured.
"But I wish I…" Tony struggled to form words. He was not afraid. Not anymore. Now there was just this one last thing he wanted to say. "Wish I'd noticed the monster… hiding in plain… sight. Bet no-one did, huh? So much… more… dangerous."
And for the first time since the start of this conversation, there was a small, gentle, genuine smile on Banner's lips.
Tony got it, really, he did. So he closed his eyes, inhaled, and listened to the sounds of dust floating in the air around him. And right before the thundering blast of the shot he caught it – coming from somewhere far, far away, something like a whisper, barely there.
A soft, slightly mumbling, "Thanks."
A/N: It was actually the first chapter I planned out back in winter, and the most difficult one to write. Inspired by the Earth's Mightiest Heroes episode "Emperor Stark", and Star Trek: Enterprise episode "In the Mirror, Darkly".
Howard Stark was an Actual Good Parent. Thor took the throne of Jotunheim with thunder and blood. Loki's an Actual Avenger. Agent Clint Barton grew a conscience and became a double agent for von Doom. Cap was executed during the seizure of the Helicarrier. Bruce Banner's journey through the night will continue.
I hope you had fun reading this, and it'd be wicked cool if you left me a review, if you have time.
Next time in Kaleidoscope: I have no idea. I have several half-baked things, but none of them finished, so.