Steve carefully eased the door to the workshop open. One glance at Tony, however, told him it would take a lot more than a creaky door to disrupt his concentration. As had become the usual over the past week, Tony was sitting on a simple wooden stool and hunched intently over the device as he fiddled with its innards.
His twelve-year-old blond shadow was crouched on top of a steel cabinet from where he could clearly see over his shoulder. Timothy looked up when Steve entered and waved at him with a grin. Steve smiled and nodded to the boy in greeting. Amy's son had barely left Tony's side this past week, except for when he was glued to the radio listening to the afternoon news, or out collecting scrap metal with his friends.
To everyone's complete surprise, Tony didn't really seem to mind. Steve even caught him explaining microcircuits to Timothy once. How much the boy actually understood was another question, but he'd been following every one of Tony's words with rapt fascination.
The week had been an unexpected delight. Steve had spent hours just wandering around New York City. Brooklyn was exactly as he remembered it. He even recognized some of his old neighbours, old classmates, people he used to run into at the grocery store. He hadn't spoken to any of them, of course, but it was amazing to just look over and spot them in a crowd. It wasn't like he had any idea what to say to them anyway.
After years of yearning after his past, after the world he'd once left behind, it was heartbreaking to realize he no longer belonged here either.
Steve placed a glass of water and a sandwich on the workbench with a loud clink. In front of the device, Tony froze and then pulled away slowly. He looked over at the sandwich and blinked.
"Is it lunchtime already?" he asked.
"Actually, it's nearly three o'clock," Steve pointed out.
"Oh. Huh, I guess I am kinda hungry." Tony picked up the sandwich and took a large bite.
"So, how's it coming?" Steve asked.
"Uh, I think I've got it mostly fixed," Tony replied in-between bites. "I'll have to run some tests first to make sure the individual components don't blow up when I turn it on."
"Will you be able to do that without your usual lab equipment?"
Tony made a face. "I can try. I mean, obviously, I'll have to test the device completely to make sure it can create a stable field... But the real problem is that I'm not entirely sure of the physics behind the field. As much as I hate to say it, this tech is a bit beyond current scientific theory, so at the end of the day, we'll kinda just have to hope and pray I don't fling us into the Jurassic era or something."
Steve smirked. "That wouldn't be too bad," he said. "We could learn to ride dinosaurs."
Timothy burst into laughter. Tony jumped and then looked back at the boy before meeting Steve's eyes with wide horrified eyes of his own.
"Shit, I forgot he was there," Steve heard him mutter under his breath.
"You finished mom's books!" Timothy exclaimed with delight and jumped down from the cabinet.
"Your mom writes books?" Tony asked.
Steve grinned. "Yup, she writes pulp fiction novels under the pen name A. R. Song. All about the adventures of the intrepid explorer and scientist Doctor William Pond and his daughter Melody, whose a crack-shot and an archaeologist."
"William Pond? That's an oddly normal name for an intrepid explorer."
"It's mom's name plus dad's name," Timothy pipped up. "Before she married dad, mom's last name was Pond!" Suddenly, Timothy became somber. "And Melody was the name of the daughter they were going to have only there was an accident and they lost her and now mom can't have kids anymore. That's why they adopted us."
Steve nodded, suddenly seeing the books he'd been reading in a whole new light. It also answered the question of whether or not the kids were adopted.
"So, they what, decided to just get three kids while they were at it?" Tony asked incredulously. "Did they get, like, a discount or something? Adopt two, get one free?"
Timothy cocked his head at Tony's odd phrasing. "Nah, mom originally wanted to just adopt Ben, 'cause she said he reminded her of dad when he was his age, only Ben and me were best pals, so Ben asked them to adopt me too. He said we were already kinda like brothers and that he'd really, really miss me if they left me behind." Timothy grinned happily at the reminder. "Mom and dad just sort of looked at each other and said 'sure, why not'."
"And they adopted Bethany later?" Steve asked.
"Nah, mom said she needed to even things out and then she asked Beth if she wanted to come help her keep us all in line. Boy was everyone at the orphanage surprised about that too! Beth was always gettin' into trouble, all 'cause she liked to climb the trees in the back and look for frogs with us boys. She was pretty good at catching 'em too, for a girl. But the nuns didn't really like that much. I remember Sister Eve once telling her she'd never get adopted by a family if she didn't act more lady-like."
Steve chuckled. "I take it your mom didn't care that she wasn't lady-like."
Timothy grinned. "Nope! She said someone who's afraid to get dirty isn't really much use in the real world," he recited. "And that it's more important to be a good person and be kind to other people than it is to be clean and polished."
"Your mom's a smart lady," Tony commented.
"That's what dad says!"
"He never really struck me as an idiot."
"No, but some people say he should be going to war like the other men," said Timothy with a frown.
Steve winced. He could well imagine the sort of flak Rory Williams was getting for not enlisting to go off to war. And part of Steve wondered why he hadn't. The other part... the other part had seen the haunted look in his eyes whenever the dinner conversation turned to the war. He'd also seen the looks shared by husband and wife when they thought no one was looking (or, more likely, weren't aware of Captain America's enhanced vision). They didn't look quite old enough to have fought in the First World War, but looks could be deceiving.
He didn't say any of that to Timothy. Instead he placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled sadly. "Son, the part of war that no one likes to talk about is that you take it with you when you leave the battlefield. All those fellas out there fighting, they've got it hard, but they'll have an even harder time of it when they come home. And they're going to need people just like your father to help them heal, help them feel like they're human again. I know your father's just an orderly, but he's a friendly, understanding face and to a guy who's been seeing nothing but blood and hearing nothing but gunshots and mortar fire, that one friendly face could make all the difference."
It wasn't Steve's best speech – heck it was barely a speech – but Timothy soaked his words in with wide eyes.
"Okay, enough of this emotional shit," Tony suddenly declared. "I've got tests to run. Now, shoo!"
"Can I help?" Timothy immediately asked, vibrating with excitement.
"Uh, no. Things could spark, or blow up, and it could get dangerous. Okay, so I'm pretty sure there won't be any explosions. Mostly sure, anyway. But there will almost definitely be sparks and your mom would probably beat me to death with her cast iron skillet if I accidentally set you on fire."
"Probably," Timothy said with a nod. His eye lit up. "But if something does get set on fire, then you'll need a bucket of water to put it out. I can hold the bucket!"
"Uh, okay, first of all, I'm pretty sure Cap can handle bucket duty being oh so much bigger and stronger than either of us, and second of all, you can't use water to put out an electrical fire, which is the most likely kind to happen."
"Then what do you use for an electrical fire?"
"A fire extinguisher. One that shoots out that white foamy stuff. Or possibly CO2, I'd have to check. Either way, it extinguishes fires."
"Oh, mom's got one of those in the kitchen! I'll go get it!"
The boy raced off without another word.
Steve snickered. "I think you might just be stuck with a helper."
Tony stared at the open workshop door with a pained expression on his face. "How much do you think getting hit with a cast iron skillet would hurt?"
"Having never experienced it myself, I can't give you an exact answer," said Steve with amusement. "But my guess would be 'a lot'."
Tony sighed. "Yeah."
Bethany slipped into the house, a small smile on her face as she quietly hummed to herself. Her hair was mussed by the wind and her cheeks faintly brushed with red from the brisk late summer evening breeze. The main floor was dark, but she only turned on the single lamp by the entryway. It was all she needed for light, and there was something wonderfully mysterious about the house when it was draped in shadows. Bethany knew that most people found dark shadowy places scary, but she found them exhilarating.
With a relieved sigh, she slipped off her blue dancing shoes. It had been such a fun time tonight, but boy was she tired. She was just glad she didn't have to sneak into her home the way some of the girls had to sneak back into their boarding houses.
Footsteps on the stairs made her pause. It wasn't unusual for her parents to still be awake when she got home from the dance hall, but they didn't tend to wander around in the dark. Her eyebrows rose in surprise when she saw the silhouette that finally emerged from the staircase.
"Beth, is that you?" Ben whispered.
She rolled her eyes. "Of course it's me," she whispered back, because it just felt wrong not to whisper in the dark. "Aren't you usually asleep by now?"
"We've been waiting up for you. Come on, it's important!"
"Alright, I'm coming." She frowned as she grabbed her purse and turned off the lamp before following after her brother.
To Bethany's surprise, Ben led her to their parent's bedroom, where the rest of the family were waiting for her. She felt a moment of panic, wondering if she'd done anything wrong. She was positive she'd told her parents she'd be going dancing tonight at the Eagle Club... Taking a deep breath, she shook herself out of those thoughts. She hadn't done anything wrong and there was no point in thinking that way.
"Dad, I thought you had to work again tonight?" she said instead.
"I called in sick," her dad answered.
She froze remembering a lifetime ago, when her mother had sat her down and told her she was sick. Ice froze her blood and lungs. Images of her mother in a hospital bed, pale and lifeless, and then the funeral...
"W-what's wrong?" she asked in a small, insecure voice.
Her mom's eyes widened. "Nothing!" she quickly assured her. "Well, nothing like that anyway. Look, just sit down."
A quick glance around the room found an empty chair in front of her mom's vanity. She pulled it out and brought it closer to the group. Ben, it looked like, had brought in a chair from his room while Timothy was sitting cross-legged on the bed along with their parents.
Her parents exchanged a look, one of those ones they used to magically communicate things to each other. Then they both took a deep breath and looked back to them.
"Right, so Timothy found out that the device Mister Stark's been working on all week is fixed and they're likely going to be using it tomorrow to get home," her mom began.
"Home?" Ben asked. "But Captain Rogers said he was from New York."
"Yes, he is," their mom agreed. "It's... complicated. Needless to say, your father and I know a bit more about the device and their mission than we've been letting on. And most of all, we know that there's great danger to both the city and to the world. Something worse than Hitler or the Nazis. Something they're going to need our help with."
She paused.
"But we're not going without you," their father added, his voice quiet. "And we won't go at all if any of you don't want to come with us. We're a family."
"Go on an adventure with Captain America?" Timothy asked with wide, excited eyes. He exchanged looks with Ben. "Help Captain America save the day? Of course we wanna go!"
Ben smiled shyly. "It would be pretty swell to help Captain America. He's really nice. And it's, uh, our patriotic duty to do what we can to help protect the country."
Their parents exchanged amused eyerolls.
Bethany knew her eyes were wide, but she couldn't help it. The ice was long gone, but now her limbs were filled with a prickly warmth. Something worse than Hitler or Nazis? Did that mean there was an even worse war coming? She swallowed.
"If we go, will we be coming back?" she heard herself ask.
Everyone looked at her. Even Timothy went silent, looking stricken. Naturally, he hadn't thought any farther than the fun adventure.
Her mom shook her head sadly. "No, I'm afraid not. This is a one chance, one-way trip."
"Do you know where they're going?" Ben asked.
Their father winced. "More or less."
"What do you mean?" Bethany demanded. "Exactly how much more or less?!"
Their parents exchanged a look again. Their father nodded and then their mother turned back to them with a sigh. "Right, so I have a confession to make."
Bethany felt herself straighten in her seat.
"Those stories I write, and the ones I've told you around the dinner table when you were all younger?"
Bethany and her brother nodded. Of course they remembered the stories: how could they not? They were the ones who told her she should write them down and have them published.
Their mom's smile turned impish "I may not have entirely made them up, you see. I just left out the alien with the space-time machine."
Bethany gaped and waited for the punchline to come. It didn't.
Tony carefully opened the bedroom door. It was o'dark something thirty in the morning and all was still. Well, all except for them of course.
"You know, after all they've done for us, I really hate stealin' out in the middle of the night like a couple a' thieves," Steve whispered behind him.
Tony rolled his eyes. "We've gone over this," he whispered back. "They'd ask too many questions and we can't risk affecting the timeline too much. That leads to really bad things in the movies."
Steve sighed. "I know."
"Look, if it makes you feel any better I'll find the kids, or maybe their grandkids, when we get back and pay for their college tuition. Or maybe give them jobs at SI or something."
"Tony, I wasn't saying that–"
"–Shhh. I thought you were supposed to know all about stealth operations. We can't let anyone he-eaahh!"
Tony's voice rose well above a whisper as his foot suddenly slipped and slid forward. Only Steve's quick reflexes stopped him from braining himself on the lovely hardwood floor. They both froze, waiting with bated breath for the slightest sign of movement from the other bedrooms. A few moments later, they both relaxed.
Adrenaline still making his heart pound, Tony looked down to the floor at his feet. And blinked.
There was a silky robe laying across the floor.
"Uh, that definitely wasn't there when we went to bed," said Tony.
"Looks like Bethany's," Steve commented. "She was out dancing 'till pretty late. Musta been tired when she got home and didn't notice when she dropped it."
"I'm thinking she might not've been entirely sober either."
"Tony," said Steve in a disapproving voice.
"What? I'm just saying. A sober woman doesn't just drop a robe unless it's on purpose... and now I'm thinking thoughts I really shouldn't be thinking about a sixteen-year-old. She is sixteen, right?"
"I think so."
"Well, that's something not quite as illegal and morally wrong. Just mostly illegal and morally wrong. And we still need to get going."
Taking extra care with every step, he and Steve continued to creep their way through the house and into the workshop. Once there, Tony turned on the light and frowned, looking up to the ceiling as only half the space was flooded with light.
"Huh, that's weird," he said. "One of the light bulbs isn't turning on."
"Do you need both lights?" Steve asked, already looking around for possible spares.
Tony shrugged. "Not really."
The workshop was really just the second half of the basement, right next to the boiler room – although the Williams' had had a half-wall built to separate the workshop space from the rest. In the workshop, Rory had a surprisingly complete set of tools, neatly organized into a large metal cabinet with a wooden shelf standing next to it consisting of what Tony guessed passed for power tools in the 40s.
There was also a long wooden workbench, upon which Kang's time travel device now sat. Its side was still dented from Cap's shield, and there were a lot more wires and components sticking out of the smooth metal casing than originally, however Tony had made it work. He hoped. The single bare lightbulb hanging above the workbench was more than enough for him to see what he was doing.
"Okay, keep those spangly fingers crossed, Cap," he said as he approached the device with a deep breath. "Like last time, the field has a range of about three meters in diameter, so you shouldn't need to stand right next to the device..."
"But better to be safe than sorry," Steve added with a nod, slipping the shield off his back as he came closer.
"Exactly." Tony scanned the wires one, last time just to make sure nothing had come loose in the past few hours. Then he took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."
He turned the device on. It came to life with a high-pitched hum and several small flashing lights. Behind him, he thought he heard some sort of shuffling, but his eyes were intent on the screen displays, waiting with baited breath for the moment the device either worked or he had to quickly turn it off before it blew up.
"Hey, what are you–" he heard Steve say.
Whatever Captain America had been about to say was lost in a bright flash of light and a shockwave that sent him stumbling to the ground. And then he saw and heard nothing else.