Tony heard the door open and instinctively tensed, relaxing at the quiet, slightly uneven footsteps that followed. He turned to face the newcomer, not really surprised to find Natasha limping towards him, her right cheek scratched and bruised, her left arm in a sling and her right hand carrying a cup of steaming coffee.

"You know I'm hardly an expert in soft, squishy human biology, but shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked her.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't you?" she countered.

Tony shrugged, wincing as the movement made his ribs twinge and pulled at the bruises on his back. "Point." He gestured towards the cup. "That for me?"

"Maybe," Natasha said with a sly smile. Then she handed him the coffee cup without another word. "How's it coming with the suit?"

Tony sighed. "I still can't figure out how Kang disabled it. Whatever that beam was, it wasn't an EMP. Almost looks like it overloaded the circuits, causing a lot of the panels to burn out. I'm just not quite sure how it did that without affecting the arc reactor at all."

"Can you fix it?"

"If I was in my workshop, I'd say yes." He gestured to the space around them. "Here, in my father's old workshop that hasn't been updated since the 70s? I can try."

Natasha nodded. "Is this the only suit that survived?" she asked quietly.

"No," Tony answered almost immediately. "I've been keeping a few suits in Malibu for emergencies. They're not the newest models, but they're better than nothing. Friday's already sent them, but they're taking three separate routes and traveling as far under the radar as they can so it'll take them longer to get here than usual."

"Apparently we have three days."

"They'll be here by tomorrow afternoon."

"Good."

Tony turned back to stare at his suit, laying inert on his father's old, solid oak workbench. It didn't matter that Stark Mansion belonged to him now, he hadn't lived in it since his parents died, preferring penthouse suites in Midtown and his house in Malibu. And then Stark Tower. He hadn't left it completely derelict, of course; there was a cleaning staff who came by once a week to make sure it remained habitable. He'd simply never felt the desire to actually inhabit it.

Standing in what was once – and, really, still was in all the ways that mattered – his father's workshop felt wrong. The iron man suit looked grotesquely out-of-place and Tony himself couldn't shake the feeling that he was intruding into someone else's space. This had been a room full of wonder, but also resentment, because his father had often spent more time in this room than he had with his son.

"Don't suppose anyone's heard from our UN liaison?" Tony asked, surprising himself with the amount of bitterness in his voice.

"No, but it's not like they'd necessarily know where to find us."

"Right. Shit, now I wish I hadn't kept the phone from Steve in my desk."

"Where else could you have kept it?"

"I don't know... Like a safety deposit box or something? Or maybe an anonymous locker at the subway station. Isn't that what people do in the movies?"

Natasha snorted. "That would be even more awkward to get to in a crisis. Besides, it's not like you could get a call through Kang's jamming signal anyway."

Tony sighed. "I'd figure something out."

A quick knock was the only warning they had before Vision came sailing through the thick lead-lined workshop door. He was frowning at both of them.

"I was under the impression that both of you should be resting," he said, his tone mild but laced with clear disapproval.

Tony waved off his concern. "I wanted to see if the suit could be salvaged. I'm kinda surprised you're back so soon."

Vision cocked his head. "It's twelve past two in the morning."

"Really?" Tony blinked. "Oh. Uh, I take it you sent Spiderman home?"

He nodded. "I sent him home around midnight."

"Good, good. The safest place for him right now is at his aunt's, far away from us."

"You realize we have no idea who Kang actually considers the Avengers?" Natasha pointed out.

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd already considered the problem. "I know. He said he's studied history..."

"But he didn't say how much detail he went into. We also don't know if something happened in the future that caused the history books to be altered."

"Exactly. Officially, Spiderman isn't an Avenger because he's too young, but he probably will become one once he's old enough which Kang might know about. Does that mean he considers him an Avenger now? Does he consider Cap an Avenger even though he's currently gone rogue and not on the official roster...?"

"You are speaking as though you are considering giving into Kang's demands," said Vision.

"We're not," said Natasha, her eyes sharp despite being slightly unfocused from painkillers. "But we might need to pretend to be."

Vision nodded. "Ah, I see."

"Speaking of which, I don't suppose you happened to find out if Dum-E and Butterfingers survived?" Tony asked.

"No, I'm sorry, I was more concerned with finding people trapped in the rubble," he gently reminded Tony.

Tony winced, because, yeah of course that was more important. With the other Avengers too badly injured to help, he and Spiderman had probably had their hands full enough. If worse came to worse, he could always rebuild them, but it wouldn't quite be the same...

"I did, however, managed to find Captain Rogers' shield," Vision continued. "I left it upstairs in the study." He paused. "The one in the east wing."

Tony shook himself out of his maudlin thoughts – he'd deal with it later. Assuming there was a later. "Oh. I guess it survived alright?"

"It sustained a few minor scratches."

He chuckled dryly. "Gotta love that vibranium."

"Indeed. And now I believe I must insist that both of you go to bed."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I can't really do anything with the suit until my backups arrive so I can run proper diagnostics."

To Tony's amusement, Vision insisted on escorting them both to their rooms. Had he been awake for it, he would've been even more amused that he was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Tony surged awake with a startled yell. Which then turned into yelp of pain as his ribs vehemently protested the sudden movement. On the nightstand beside the bed, his cellphone continued to blare out AC/DC at the top of its little speaker lungs.

One hand holding his bruised – and possibly cracked – ribs, he reached out with his other to pick up the phone.

"Hello," he croaked into the phone, his throat dry and his head still sleep-fuzzy.

"Sir, manor security sensors have detected intruders on the property."

Tony blinked, wondering why FRIDAY was calling him on his phone to tell him about a security breech, when his eyes finally registered his surroundings. The previous day's events came back to him seconds later. He turned on the speakerphone and placed it back on the nightstand.

"I see you got a signal working," he said, throwing his covers aside and getting out of bed as quickly as his ribs would allow.

"Unfortunately not, sir. This is a local network I've created using the signal from the Iron Man suit to boost the connection. I'm afraid its limits are the manor security system and the Starkphones used by the other Avengers."

Tony winced and hissed his way into his underarmour. While it wasn't entirely bullet-proof, it would definitely be better than his bathrobe for protection. Once he'd finally gotten it on, he had to pause to catch his breath.

"So you've let the others know about the intruders?" he asked as he slipped his repulsor gloves on.

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

He grabbed the phone as he hurried out the door. Natasha was waiting for him at the end of the hallway, looking like she was ready to jump into battle. Her sling was noticeably missing, but Tony decided not to mention it.

"Any more information about our intruders?" she asked.

He shook his head as they hurried down the stairs together. "The manor's security systems are pretty rudimentary and the only CCTV cameras are by the entrances. Unfortunately, their feed is sent externally to the company that's supposed to be maintaining the system. I could hack it, of course, but I'd need a better computer than the Commodore 67 that's probably still sitting in dad's old study."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "You never upgraded the security system here?"

He shrugged, and then winced at the extra twinge from his already-throbbing ribs. "For years I didn't want to come anywhere near here and then... well, all the important stuff was elsewhere and I seriously didn't give a shit if someone broke in to steal a vase or something."

They found Rhodey carefully crouched beside one of the side-windows in the ballroom that over-looked the back garden in his new modified suit-harness.

Tony refused to call it a half-suit, although that was essentially what it looked like. The legs had full boots, though only limited hovering capabilities, but the rest of the legs were a slightly more heavy-duty version of his original leg braces. The upper body was more of a harness, but still made of metal with small, short-range missiles built into the shoulder pads and matching gauntlets. There were also a couple of built-in gun holsters.

It was designed to be an option for combat that gave him a better, more stable range of motion than just the leg braces on their own. Rhodey's movements were still slightly stilted in it, but he was slowly getting better. Tony was also – in the spare time he didn't really have – designing a suit that could fit around this suit-harness to make it easier for Rhodey to transition into War Machine.

"Vision's gone to check out the situation from the roof," Rhodey told them quietly when they reached him.

Tony nodded. "Do you see anyone out there?" he asked as Natasha took a position by one of the windows on the other side of the room.

Rhodey paused. "I saw movement in the shadows, mostly by those bushes over on the left. There's definitely more than one person out there, but whoever they are, they're good. I barely caught a glimpse of anything, and definitely not enough to identify them."

"Damn," said Tony. "Now I'm really wishing I hadn't just forgotten about this place for years. Should've assumed I'd need it eventually."

"Maybe," said Rhodey, his gaze never straying from the gap between the window frame and the curtain. "But this really isn't the time for 'should haves'."

"Uh, right. I'll go check out the front windows."

A quick glance and a few mental calculations of angles told him where the lines of sight into the room were and then Tony was hurrying across the ballroom.

He reached the grand front hall and, first of all, did a quick scan of the door and windows. Everything was still closed tight. There were two small windows beside the main doors, however Tony knew from experience that due to the trees and decorative bushes by the entrance, the view from them was limited to the main gates, the driveway and the front steps themselves. So Tony ignored those windows and carefully slipped into the drawing room to the left of the entrance. When the drapes were open, the large window in this room gave it plenty of sunlight and a lovely view of the grounds, which had once made it a perfect place for his mother to entertain guests.

Tony squashed down those memories with a stubborn determination as he flattened himself to the wall and carefully eased the heavy brocade drapes a mere inch away from the window, just enough for him to look out onto the grounds.

And then the shrill sounds of the rusted doorbell rang through the hall.

He jumped at the sound and then froze. When the doorbell rang again, he leapt into action, quickly trying different angles to see if he could spot whoever was at the door. Cursing those damned trees bordering the main doors, he quickly concluded it wasn't possible from this room. In hindsight, this was a horrible tactical oversight from the man who'd been one of the founders of SHIELD.

Natasha was already peeking through one of the windows by the main doors, her gun drawn. She glanced his way when he came in.

"So, these are either incredibly polite intruders, or else this is a trap," said Tony in a loud whisper.

"Or a diversion," Natasha added. "Whoever they are, they're standing right in front of the door. I can see part of their profiles, but not enough to tell who they are." This time she shot him a pointed, disapproving look. "Strategically, this is a horribly designed house front."

"Blame dad," said Tony as took his position at the other window. In front of which stood an evergreen that had never taken up quite this much space before. "Okay, and maybe you can blame me a little too. Clearly I hadn't anticipated ever needing to use this house for anything other than as a very expensive memento."

Giving up with an irritated growl, Tony walked over to Natasha's window, about to suggest they just go ahead and open the damned doors. He'd barely opened his mouth to speak, when Natasha suddenly froze.

"Those idiots," she growled. She then switched gun hands and stalked over to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open without saying another word. "I should just shoot both of you right now."

"Well, gee, it's good to see you too, Nat," said a familiar voice.

Tony gaped for a moment, and then stalked over to the door and pulled it open wider. Sure enough, there was a grinning Hawkeye standing on the other side, along with Golden Boy, Steve Rogers himself.

"If my ribs weren't killing me, I'd punch you both," he told them.

Rogers raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, so you don't want our help with this little time traveler problem you have here," he asked mildly.

Tony grit his teeth. Of course they needed their help and Rogers knew it. "Do I even want to know how you found us?"

"We called Pepper from the plane," Hawkeye answered with a shrug. "Asked her where was the mostly likely place you'd hole up if Stark Tower and the Avengers complex were out of the question. Steve here seemed to remember your dad mentioning something about owning a manor at the outskirts of the city, but didn't know where it was and if you still owned it."

"You talked to Pepper? She... is she alright?"

Roger's expression softened for a moment. "Pepper's fine, Tony. She's frantic with worry for news of how you and the city are doing. As are a lot of people. So far, New York's the only city that's been attacked, but there's one small ship hovering above Washington, one above Moscow, and another two above London."

Tony breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, are you going to let us in or are we just going to stand here until one of Kang's minions floats by and spots us?" Hawkeye drawled, but his eyes were scanning the skies.

"Floats by?" Tony asked with a frown.

Rogers cleared his throat and Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes, fine, we can continue this inside. I take it the rest of the intruders in the back are yours too?"

Rogers nodded and then gestured to Hawkeye, who took a step back and put his hands together in front of his mouth. Tony was incredibly tempted to burst into laughter at the bird call that then rang across the grounds.

Stepping back to let them inside, he saw Vision coming down the main staircase, just ahead of Sam Wilson.

"Oh, look, I guess we're all here, are we?" said Tony with false cheer.

"All except Antman," said Rogers. "He went to meet someone."

Tony blinked. "He went to meet someone? What, he's got some underground criminal contacts who can help with a time-traveling megalomaniac?"

"Before we get into details, I believe you are all in need of medical attention," said Black Panther as he walked out of the ballroom with Rhodey. He gestured to a half dozen uniformed soldiers behind him. "I insist you allow my medical team to look at your injuries."

"King T'Challa," Natasha greeted him. "It's good to see you again."

T'Challa reached up and took off his face mask. He smiled at Natasha, greeting her with a polite nod. "And you, Ms Romanoff. It is less good to see your arm out of a cast."

Tony glared at Rhodey. "You tattled about our injuries to the people who infiltrated our current base."

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Tony, I love you, but right now the last thing we have time for is petty disputes. There's a madman who claims he's from the future hovering above the city in his weirdly phallic-shaped ship and threatening to blow up major cities if he doesn't get his way. Let's just focus on stopping him. And part of that means making sure you and Nat get the medical attention you need."

"Hey, that burn on your hip isn't exactly a scratch!" Tony protested.

He got a pointed look in return. "Yes, because I'm the one who likes to hide injuries and avoid medical attention."

T'Challa cleared his throat. "Is there, perhaps a room where my medics can set up?" he asked politely, though with a very hard edge.

Tony threw his arms up – and then winced at the motion. "Fine, yes, you can set up in one of the servant's quarters. It's got a small on-suite bathroom."

"Servant's quarters?" he heard Rogers ask incredulously as he led the way for T'Challa's medics.

Spiderman arrived at Stark Manor at sometime around mid-morning. They were standing around the large dining room table eating what could best be described as combat rations (thankfully brought in by Steve's group and not from Howard Stark's nuclear bunker in the basement) and discussing possible plans for dealing with Kang, when suddenly there was a tap on the window behind Clint.

The archer, who'd only been half-listening to Tony and Steve debating (ie arguing) about the recklessness of doing something or other, was in the perfect position to hear the faint tapping. Beside him, he saw T'Challa also look in the window's direction. Clint met his eyes and then shrugged before getting up and throwing the curtains open.

The huge black eyes of an upside down Spiderman stared back at him.

"Hey, I guess school's out today," said Clint as he unlatched the window to let the webslinger in.

"Ha ha," said Spiderman as he crawled in through the open window. "First of all, it's August and second of all, aren't you, like, the enemy?"

Clint snorted as he closed the window after him and drew the curtains shut again. "I'm pretty sure the enemy's the asshole floating above the city in the flying space dildo."

"Wouldn't it technically be a time dildo? Er, I mean timeship. Everyone keeps calling it a spaceship, but do we actually know if it can travel through space?"

"Kid, as long as we can get inside to blow it up, I seriously don't care."

"Fair enough."

"Hey, Underoos, glad you could make it!" said Tony, having apparently finally noticed something other than Steve. "I would've called, but even my cellphone signal's still down."

"Uh, thanks, Mister Stark," said Spiderman as he looked around the table for an empty seat. "I would've been here sooner, but my aunt didn't want me to leave. Wasn't until I told her I was going to volunteer to help at the shelters they've set up for the people displaced by the explosions before she'd let me leave the apartment."

"Aaand that's way more information than you really should be giving in a room full of people you consider your maybe-enemy," Clint pointed out with amusement.

Spiderman froze half-way into sitting down in a seat next to Rhodey. "Uh..." he said.

"Lay off the kid, Hawkeye," Sam called to him from his seat further up the table beside Cap. "It's not like any of us would wanna hurt him or his family even if we weren't being forced to band together right now."

Clint shrugged, moving to the side to allow one of T'Challa's men to lean in to speak to his king. "Hey, it's never too early to instill someone in our business with a healthy sense of paranoia."

He saw Steve shake his head, his lips twitching with amusement. Then he nodded to Spiderman. "We're glad you could make it, son," he said. "Making it here without getting spotted by those floaters is a pretty impressive feat."

"Floaters?" Spiderman asked. "Oh, you mean Kang's minions? The ones zipping around above the city in their weird chair platforms? Which are covered by some pretty kick-ass shielding, by the way. You know, in case you were wondering. And didn't already know. A biker gang in Harlem found that out the hard way apparently. Uh, anyway, I was actually calling them chair gliders, but I like floaters better. It's shorter, snappier."

"I believe we have a new problem," T'Challa suddenly spoke up. He instantly had everyone's attention. "My men have informed me that several news vans have just pulled up to the manor's gates."

"What?!" Tony exclaimed. "Are they fucking suicidal?!"

"We have to get rid of them before they give our position away to Kang's people," said Nat.

Clint nodded in agreement. "What she said."

"Dammit, we do not have time for this!" said Tony as he began marching towards the door, grabbing the suit jacket and putting it on as quickly as he could.

"Tony, are you sure you should go out when you're injured?" Steve called after him.

Tony whirled around on him. "Look, Cap, I'm not exactly asking for your permission here!" he growled at Steve. "But the fact of the matter is that I'm the only one who can go out there. This is my old family home, therefore the logical place for me to go with the Tower destroyed. If any of the Avengers go out there, then it'll only tell Kang that I'm not alone. If any of your team goes out there then it'll tell him you're in town. We still don't know who exactly he considers a part of the Avengers, so let's not give him any ideas."

Steve pursed his lips in disapproval, but remained silent until Tony left the room. Then he turned to address the rest of the table. "We should all take positions by the windows and doors in case he needs backup. If those TV vans were followed then we might not have much time to mobilize. Sam, you, Clint and Vision spread out across the rooftop, but keep out of sight until we're sure you'll be needed."

As Clint followed Vision and Sam out of the room, he overheard Natasha tell Steve that Tony had left something for him in the library.

Steve made sure to make some noise as he walked up behind T'Challa, who was watching the front lawn from one of the main hall's windows. He was wearing his full Black Panther suit, his sharp vibranium claws glistening in the small amount of sunlight the partially-drawn curtains were letting in.

"This manor was not designed with security in mind," said T'Challa.

"Uh, no it probably wasn't," Steve agreed as he looked over the other man's shoulder. "I think Howard had it built before the war."

"Hm." Black Panther shifted slightly so that he could look up at Steve without taking his eyes off of Tony, who had finally reached the reporters and their news vans. "I see Stark has returned your shield to you."

Steve gripped the familiar leather handle tightly, relishing the weight of the shield in his hand. He'd missed it. However, if telling him to leave it behind had been a last-ditch attempt on Tony's part to get him to reconsider, then he'd misjudged Steve horribly. Steve had never gone out to be a hero; Captain America was a mantle he'd been given, not one he'd sought out. Being Captain America gave him the opportunity he'd wanted to join the fight, to do good, and so he'd embraced the title he'd been given.

Leaving the shield behind had been the easiest thing he'd ever done. And the most difficult.

"Not quite," Steve answered. "He didn't exactly hide it away, but Natasha was the one who showed me where it was and told me to take it."

T'Challa nodded. "She is a practical woman."

Steve nodded, his eyes following Tony's movements as he talked to the reporters at the gates. He wished he could hear what was being said, but even from here he could tell that Tony clearly wasn't happy and the reporters weren't getting the hint.

Then movement from above caught his attention. "Damn," he said under his breath. He half-turned and hollered into the rest of the house. "We've got incoming!"

"I see them!" Rhodey hollered back.

"I don't think Tony's seen them yet," said Natasha as she hurried into the main hall, drawing her gun as she walked. "I'll go get him."

"No," said Steve. "Nat, you're injured and at this point, we've already been made."

"But Kang still doesn't know that you're here," she protested.

"We also don't know that he knows we're not supposed to be. Look, you're a better shot than I am and we're going to need someone who can shoot those guys and their floating chairs down from the sky more than we need someone who can shield their blasts."

Natasha glared at him for a moment and then sighed. "Fine, but I'm grabbing one of those high-caliber rifles you brought with you."

"Help yourself," said T'Challa. He then said a few words in Wakandan to his soldiers (technically, they were his bodyguards, but no one actually thought the Black Panther needed guarding). "Come, Captain, our enemy is closing in quickly."

"I'm on your six," said Steve and together they raced out the door and up the driveway towards the main gates.

The reporters had obviously seen them approaching, because Tony was already facing them when they reached them.

"What the hell, Rogers?!" he demanded, his eyes furious. "I told you I could handle it!"

"Not the time, Tony," Steve said as he gestured above them. "We've got company." Then he turned to give the reporters a stern look. "Unless you guys wanna get caught in the crossfire, I suggest you get the hell outta here."

He didn't stay to find out if they listened to him. He and the Black Panther flanked Tony as they hurried back towards the manor.

They weren't quite fast enough.

The battle than then ensued was less a battle and more a game of duck and cover, except without any proper cover. Or perhaps more like whack-a-mole with lasers – and they were the moles.

Luckily, vibranium deflected these futuristic lasers just as well it had deflected every single laser Steve had encountered in the twentieth or twenty-first century. Once they figured this out, the Black Panter veered off away from Steve and Tony in order to draw away some of the fire, but that still left Steve protecting Tony, whose underarmor wasn't quite so laser resistant.

It felt like they weren't making any progress getting back to the manor. They'd gotten as far as the half-way point, when a stream of laser fire sent them stumbling backwards a few steps. Steve brought his shield up and deflected a few blasts before grabbing Tony and dragging him to the right. Maybe they could make it to the garden and then hide in the shadows of the bushes as they headed for the nearest window.

That plan was shot up along with the garden.

Steve grit his teeth and tried to come up with a different plan. Sending Tony ahead and taking fire on his own wouldn't work, because there were too many of them. Steve counted at least two dozen on this side of the manor and he was too busy trying to protect both himself and Tony from the laser blasts to tell whether or not their weapons were working at all against the floaters.

"How long until your suits get here?" Steve asked Tony between clenched teeth as he held his shield up against a concentrated barrage of fire.

"According to their estimated time of arrival, about five hours and twenty-one minutes," Tony answered as he quickly slipped on his replusor gloves. Steve saw him brace himself and take a deep breath before popping up from behind Steve and firing several repulsor blasts at the floaters.

That's how they confirmed that Spiderman had been right and the floating chair platforms had very sophisticated shielding indeed.

"Goddammit, I hate these guys," Tony said as crouched back down behind Steve and the shield. "I really, really hate them!"

And then the laserfire suddenly stopped.

Steve slowly lowered his shield enough to look over. The floaters were still hovering above them, but they'd made a visible path in the air and there was an even larger, more throne-like chair floating towards them. Though they could barely make out his face from the ground, the voice they heard was clear and strong. And bone-chillingly familiar.

"Greetings, Avengers! Having read about you extensively, I decided that perhaps another demonstration of my superior strength was in order. In case you were harbouring some residual thoughts about foolishly resisting me and my thirty-first century technology."

"You know, you really shouldn't believe everything you read," said Tony out loud.

Kang chuckled and his chair hovered in a bit closer. "How very true, Tony Stark. I'm surprised to see you without your fabled suit."

"It's at the cleaners."

"I'm sure it is. Ah, and Captain America, how fortuitous to also find you here."

Steve grit his teeth, refusing to answer Kang's taunt.

"You see, shortly after arriving in this century, my ship's sensors began to detect a rather malignant time anomaly. After some research of my own, I have come to the conclusion that you, Captain Rogers, the man out of time, are that anomaly."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure the only time anomaly here is you, Kang," Tony once again interrupted.

"You, Mister Stark, are becoming quite tiresome," said Kang just before taking out a blaster gun and firing it directly at Tony.

"Tony!" Steve cried out in alarm as Tony was lifted off his feet by the blast and thrown backwards several yards. He barely managed to cry out in pain.

Steve turned back to Kang, furious. "Even if you manage to kill us, Kang, someone else will rise up to fight you. You'll never win."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Captain America. However, what will or will not happen is really no longer your concern."

Kang pressed a button on his console and suddenly, Steve was bathed in light. It was a heavy light, one that pushed and pulled him downwards both at the same time. He braced his muscles against it, but it was no use. He fell to his knees, and then forward onto his hands, until finally he keeled over onto to side panting, barely able to lift a finger against the force weighing him down.

He managed to open his eyes just enough to see a device being lowered to the ground mere feet in front of him, little lights lit up all over its front. He felt the light holding him down waver slightly, but it wasn't enough for him to move, nor could find the strength to turn his head to find out what was causing it to fluctuate.

All he could do was hope his team figured something out. And pray they made it out alive.

That hope was strengthened when he saw Tony crawling towards the device.

And then the light bathing Steve was gone. At first, he couldn't do anything but blink in surprise, but he quickly found his strength again and was on his feet, running towards Tony and the device. Above him he saw Sam and Redwing tag-teaming Kang in the sky, along with War Machine, who was firing repulsor blast after repulsor blast.

"Tony, can you turn it off?" he demanded when he reached the device.

"If I had days to figure out the tech, sure," Tony replied, making a small sound of triumph when he managed figure out how to open the casing.

"Then step back," said Steve.

Tony's head snapped up at him. "Wha–" he began. Then his eyes widened and he back-pedaled.

Steve brought his shield down onto the device with all his might. The clang from the impact was nearly deafening and it left quite an impressive dent. But the device didn't turn off.

"Shit, what is this thing made out of?" asked Tony. He went up to the device again, waving Steve off. "That's clearly not going to work, so let me at it."

"Tony."

"Look, maybe if I pull enough wires, it'll turn off."

Steve supposed it was as good a plan as any.

Sparks flew from the device and Tony pulled his hand away with a hiss. "Damn, okay, I'm not quite sure what that did, but I don't think it did the right thing. Look, Cap, stand back you're in my light."

Steve stood back, but balanced on his toes, keeping one eye on Tony in case he needed to pull him away, and the other eye on the sky so that he could once again shield them both from any stray lasers. Kang was now free of Sam's dual assault, but was still concentrating his efforts on chasing Rhodey around. Though the chair he was sitting in was leagues more advanced than the War Machine suit, it didn't outmaneuver it.

"Shit, Cap, I don't think I can–" was the last thing Steve heard Tony say before a bright light enveloped them both, knocking them unconscious and sending them to an unremarkable alley in Brooklyn.