Tony rapped on the door lightly, hoping that would be loud enough for Laura to hear but not loud enough to wake the kids if they were already sleeping. The door opened just a crack, then Lila gasped, "Uncle Tony!" She flung open the door and hugged him enthusiastically.
"Hey, little bit," he said, slightly winded. "Where are your Mama and brothers?" He didn't see anyone in the front room, but he could hear voices somewhere in the sleeping area.
"Saying good-night to Daddy," she replied, releasing his waist and grabbing his hand. "Will you read with me?"
"Sure, honey," he said agreeably as she pulled him over to the couch that divided the room in half. "Do you want me to read to you?"
"No. Auntie Nat read to me earlier. I'll read to you," she said, having already bounded over to the bookcase. Her selection was something bright yellow with a duck on the cover. She stopped right in front of him and hugged the book against her chest. "Can I sit on your lap?"
He held out his arms in invitation. "Come on up."
She was all elbows and knees as she scrambled up and settled into place. He didn't fully follow the story even though Lila read it fairly skillfully, distracted by everything on his mind and especially how he was going to broach the conversation with Laura.
When the book was finished, Lila hopped off his lap to return the book to its shelf, and he felt a little cold from the sudden absence of her body heat. She was back almost immediately, though, another book in hand.
"Lila, come to bed please," Laura called.
Lila frowned but put the book away without complaining. Then she returned and hugged him around the neck. "Good night," she said.
"Good night," he answered, patting her back awkwardly.
She ran into the hallway and out of his sight. He slouched back into the couch and sighed. When his eyes began to droop closed of their own accord, he knew sitting in that position was a mistake. He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, staring sightlessly at the floor as he mentally went through the list of what else needed to be done that evening. we
"The kids missed you at dinner," Laura said as she picked up an abandoned stuffed toy and dropped it into a basket with its kin.
He hadn't heard her approach. "Sorry," he said. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face.
"Is everything all right?" she asked, disappearing from view behind him. There was the sound of a cupboard opening and closing.
He laughed hollowly. "No, I'm afraid not."
"Here." She dropped something onto the cushion next to him. "It's the only food I have here. Do you want something to drink?"
"No, I'm not staying long." He picked up the pouch she'd dropped. "What-"
"It's applesauce, conveniently packaged to not make a mess," she explained as she sat at the other end of the couch. "You twist the spout and suck on it."
He fidgeted with the packaging but didn't follow her instructions. "I came to warn you," he said carefully.
"Warn me?" She sounded curious.
"We may have to evacuate the compound, relocate to the helicarrier. The compound personnel will be having a drill sometime this week to get ready. I-I wanted to let you know so you can prepare, just in case. I know the kids aren't easy to pack up at a moment's notice."
She stared at him thoughtfully. "I appreciate that," she said. "Are we in danger?"
"I hope not." The situation was complicated enough as it was.
"Then why would we have to leave?"
He twisted the plastic spout until part of it popped off, trying to determine the simplest explanation.
"Now you'll have to eat it," she said lightly.
He glanced at her, then the pouch of applesauce. It only took him three swallows to drain. "Because Ross is coming after me and I'm the only thing between him and everyone else. I would do almost anything to keep them from being put back on the Raft," he finally replied.
Her brow furrowed. "Can't the U.N. help?"
"Only to a certain point. It's easier to stay out of jail than it is to get someone out. And even with all that's happened in the last couple of days, I get the feeling he's still got something up his sleeve."
"What's happened?"
He briefly explained the issue of the investigation and the asset seizures and everything he'd had to deal with in the last forty-odd hours.
She listened sympathetically. "The team would be happy to help, if they can."
He sighed, feeling more exhausted from his recitation. "I don't think they can."
"You won't know until you let them try."
He nodded, then let his head hang. "I'll tell them, I promise."
She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "I know you will. Do you have time to sleep before the mission?"
"No," he said shortly, steeling himself to stand and take his leave. "I should go. Things to do, people to see, you know how it is."
"I can only imagine," she said, rising to her feet when he did. "If there's anything I can do . . ."
"Keep the kids safe," he said impulsively. "They're-they're great kids. I'm sorry I keep putting them in harm's way." That was far more than he'd meant to say, but he also meant every word.
She smiled slightly. "We're all just doing our best."
He cleared his throat awkwardly and moved to the door, opening it. "Good night," he said, stepping into the silent hallway and not looking back.
"Good luck," she called after him.
He heard the door close softly behind him and reflexively checked his watch. Three hours until showtime. Mission prep was his next priority, except he couldn't remember exactly how he'd set things up the last time. He'd liked it, whatever he'd done.
"Friday, display viewing center schematics from the last mission." Ah, that was it.
He strode purposefully down the hall to borrow a couple of screens from his workshop. A little physical exertion would tide him over until he could make more coffee.
.
Tony had manhandled everything into place, hooked up what needed connecting, and was running checks on the software and outputs when he decided he ought to make his next call.
He foraged in the kitchen for an energy drink and popped it open while the phone rang. He honestly wasn't sure if it would be answered, but at least he could say he'd tried.
"Tony."
"I can explain my question from yesterday," he said, transferring the call from his phone to a headset to test out the connections.
"Please do," Pepper said warily.
"Are you alone? What I need to tell you isn't public knowledge yet."
"I'm alone."
He launched into his explanation, which wasn't any easier for having just given something like it to Laura. He told her everything, down to the conversation with the board, and Pepper listened in silence until he finished.
"You do realize that breaking up with me after the fact won't protect me or the company, right?"
"I guess you should've let me break up with you when I was visiting, then," he shot back, then gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I, I'm-"
"You're tired and overwhelmed," Pepper said gently. "I understand. But you need to be aware that if they're investigating things from before, our current relationship status won't necessarily mean anything."
"Right." He paused, trying to remember why it had seemed like the only thing he could do. "I'm just trying to minimize the risk as much as I can. It may not be enough, but at least it's something."
"If you say so." She didn't sound convinced. "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"
He winced. "That will be all, Ms. Potts," he said softly.
He spent a little longer tweaking and fine-tuning and checking on the satellite readings, then all he had to do was make more coffee and it would be showtime. He wondered at the fact that he hadn't seen Rogers yet, but he didn't let it bother him. If good old Stevie boy didn't show, that wasn't his fault. He wasn't the man's mother, and it would be further proof that benching him had been the right decision.
He put on the coffee-a whole pot's worth, because it would be at least two hours before the whole rigamarole was over-and checked his messages. Nothing new, which was both a relief and a worry at the same time. It made him wonder what people were up to.
As the coffee finished brewing, Rogers appeared as if by magic, standing beside the kitchen island with his arms crossed and a frown firmly fixed upon his face.
Tony glanced at him. "Can you be helped?"
"Why the secrecy, Tony? What are you hiding?"
"What are you talking about?"
"The last time you disappeared for a while, the result was Ultron. Forgive me for being a little suspicious about what you might be up to."
Tony bit his lip and took a deep breath before answering. "We aren't going to do this now," he said firmly. "The others will be waiting for us to check in."
"Because your schedule is the most important, never mind that you left the team high and dry while they were trying to prepare for this mission."
Tony took his pot of coffee and a clean-ish mug over to the table where everything was set up around the conference screen. "I worked through the night to be sure my part was done before they left, Rogers, despite the other shit I had to deal with," he said icily as he put on his headset. He activated the comm line. "Wakey, wakey, how are we looking?"
Rogers donned his own headset, looking for all the world like he was sulking.
"We're five minutes out," Clint replied. "Everyone is suiting up. Anything new at your end?"
"Nothing has changed in the satellite readings, including thermal scans," Tony said. "As far as that goes, you're good to go."
"Thanks, Tony," Rhodey said, then added, "How's that thing coming?"
He glanced at Rogers, who glowered in his direction. "Long story. I'll fill you in when you get back."
"Roger that. Things look good here, but we'll take a few minutes to scope it out before we proceed. Earpieces in everyone, and report," Rhodey ordered.
Each person reported in, with Steve and Tony last. By then the quinjet was within scanning range. Tony was pleased to note the peek-a-boo program worked a little better from the ship than it did from the satellite, and revealed two hazy outlines of openings in the mountain that were being hidden from the naked eye. The other new scanner provided more information about the relative sizes of the openings; one was large enough to admit the quinjet.
"Is anyone else thinking they might have aircraft in there?" Tony asked in a moment of silence.
"Red Skull did," Steve put in. "This looks a lot like that old base. I don't like it." When he finished speaking, he muted their comm line.
Tony looked over at him in surprise. "What?"
"I overheard you talking on the phone earlier," Steve said stiffly. "How dare you hide something like that right after you got upset with me for not telling you what Bucky did."
All Tony could do was stare at him for a moment. "You should lead with that next time," he said finally. "Don't bother asking me what I'm up to when you already have some idea what I'm up to."
"Anyone else have reservations?" Rhodey asked on the comm.
No one spoke.
"We're a go as planned. Aerial contingent, prepare for launch. We'll wait behind that ridge over there until the jet blasts the backdoor, then make our move to cover Vision while he gets inside to copy the data."
Tony double-checked that they were still muted before saying fiercely, "When I asked you earlier if you trust me, you should've just said no. Because it's obvious you don't. But you know what? That goes both ways, buddy. And I have to say, I think my decision not to say something about this right away-while the team was preparing for a mission, might I add-is far less of an issue than your decision not to tell me about my parents' murder for two fucking years," he spat. "Would you have ever managed to spill the beans? Or would I have gone to my grave still believing that my father's drunkenness is what killed my mother?"
He probably shouldn't have let all of that come out, especially not while the mission was commencing-a brief glance at the screen revealed the quinjet pulling away from a cloud of smoke on one side of the mountain-but he was well beyond the point of caring. If Stevie boy wanted an argument, he sure as hell was going to get one.
"This isn't about me, it's about you and your history of hiding vital information from the team," Rogers objected, raising his voice as he stood up and leaned on the table.
"Really? Do tell," Tony shot back. "Besides those three days when Bruce and I were working on Ultron, name just one time I hid something from any of you that negatively impacted the team."
His challenge went unaddressed as their attention was drawn to the unfolding fight by a cry of "Look out!"
A swarm of HYDRA fighters wearing jetpacks was pouring out of the large mountainside opening.
"Guys, I think we seriously underestimated the number of people at this base," Sam said, swooping into the fray alongside Rhodey and Vision. "And they have jetpacks. Jetpacks! Stark, are you holding out on us? Why don't we all have jetpacks?"
Tony unmuted the line. "Check your back, sweetcheeks. Pretty sure you already have a jetpack."
"I do, but what about the rest? We sure could use the backup right about now."
"We're trying to lay cover fire, but they've got anti-aircraft guns so we can't get close yet," Clint said, accompanied by the sound of an explosion. "Oops. Wanda, you okay back there?"
"I am fine," Wanda said. "But I cannot help fight them from here."
"Vision, get inside and try to take down their systems," Rhodey barked. "That should take out the guns so we'll get more help from the jet."
Tony watched with growing anxiety as the fight continued, with a seemingly endless stream of guys in jetpacks replacing those blown out of the sky. Clint's bow could be useful from a distance, but then the jet would have to have the hatch open and facing the opening in the mountainside, which seemed too risky, plus they wouldn't be able to dodge the gunfire as effectively.
Then he had an idea. "Nat, aim your fire at the guns."
"What do you think I've been doing?"
He ignored her. "Wanda, can you try to turn the HYDRA fighters against each other somehow? Like, make them afraid or something?"
"Tony," Steve said reproachfully.
"I will try," Wanda said resolutely.
At first, nothing seemed to change. Then some of the HYDRA fighters turned on one another, sending them in pairs down into the gorge below. There were still too many, but it was progress.
"Their system should be offline," Vision reported.
"I've taken out their guns; even if the system comes back, they won't be shooting at us," Natasha reported shortly thereafter.
"We're coming in closer," Clint said.
"Vision, are you able to do the copying?" Rhodey asked.
"Backup would be appreciated," Vision replied. "There are personnel attempting to interfere."
"Clint, can you and Wanda get in there like we discussed?"
"We're about to find out."
The quinjet swung close to the mountain. A barrage from the guns and a cloud of red energy assaulted the hangar-sized space and a fireball erupted, narrowly missing the quinjet as it dove out of the way. "I think that takes care of any remaining jetpacks," Nat said dryly. The jet swooped back up and into the opening, lightly touching down to allow Clint and Wanda to get off.
"Vision, where are you?" Clint demanded as the jet pulled away to rejoin the firefight. The two closest HYDRA goons in jetpacks were felled by arrows.
Vision's response was garbled, static crackling over the line.
"Vision, picture it in your mind," Tony said urgently, hoping he could be heard. "Wanda, can you read him?"
Wanda replied confidently. "Yes. We're on our way."
With no more reinforcements launching and the assistance of Nat in the quinjet, Sam and Rhodey were able to gain the upper hand and methodically pick off each of the goons in jetpacks. When the air was clear, they headed for the opening.
"No sign of the others," Nat reported from the jet.
"What's your status?" Rhodey demanded over the comm.
There was no response.
Tony muted his microphone. "Friday, add 'sending signals through mountains' to my project list. There's got to be some way to make this work better," he muttered. He activated his microphone again. "Rhodey, I'm going to use your suit as a signal amplifier."
"Acknowledged. I've always wanted to be an antenna," Rhodey joked.
"Today's your lucky day," Tony replied absently, his attention focused on making the necessary adjustments. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but translating it into thought and then keystrokes was taking more time and effort than it should. He moved the suit further into the hangar and was just about to have them try it and hope it worked when Sam's voice broke his concentration.
"Guys, I'm pretty sure I'm looking at a self-destruct countdown over here."
"How much time have we got?" Rhodey asked, his voice even.
"A minute."
Friday helpfully displayed a countdown clock in the bottom right corner of the screen.
Shit. Tony flipped the virtual switch. "You're a go for broadcast."
"Vision, Clint, Wanda, you have less than a minute to clear the base," Rhodey said urgently. "If you can hear me, please respond."
Silence.
"Forty-five seconds," Sam said.
"Sam, get to the jet. Nat, be ready to take off. Tony, if I move closer to the door-"
"-the signal won't go as far," Tony confirmed.
"If they're deep enough that they can't hear you, they won't be able to get out in time," Steve said soberly.
"You're right, they won't," Rhodey agreed heavily. "But we'll wait here, just in case."
Long seconds passed, and Rhodey retreated. He had just landed in the jet when the mountain shook. The quinjet burst out of the mountain less than a second later, the hatch still open.
"It's too soon-" Sam started, but his objection was interrupted by Clint.
"We could use a pickup down here."
Nat swore as Vision abruptly appeared in front of the jet. He was pointing down the mountain and appeared unperturbed as he let the jet pass through him.
Tony had to close his eyes for a moment, the wheeling images on the displays a little too much to handle as the jet banked and Rhodey and Sam both dove out of the hatch toward the new hole in the side of the mountain.
"Got 'em!" Wilson crowed as he and Rhodey raced away from danger, Clint and Wanda in tow.
Muffled explosions echoed over the comm, and the quinjet's scanners witnessed the mountain fold in on itself, crumpling as if it were no more than paper.
"Any signs of survivors?" Rhodey asked when they were all back on the jet, watching a cloud of smoke and dust rise from the settling rubble.
Nat turned the quinjet and inched it a little closer. "Negative," Clint said.
"And there's still no one on the neighboring slopes at risk from avalanches?"
"There's nobody around."
"Everyone all right?"
There was murmured agreement.
"Then let's make tracks. What happened back there?" Rhodey asked, popping up his faceplate and cutting the only video feed of the quinjet interior.
"We heard your warning but didn't have enough time to get back up to the hangar. I guess you didn't hear me say we'd be making our own way out?" Clint said.
"We didn't hear anything from you. How did you do that?"
"Wanda flung Vision through the wall," Clint said, sounding proud.
"He made himself dense first," Wanda added. "I wasn't sure it would work."
"Is Vision all right?" Steve asked.
"I think so. He hasn't talked since we found him by the computers," Wanda replied.
"I was able to get some of the data on the backup drive," Clint said. "But it isn't much. Sorry, Tony."
The comment barely registered, as Tony was still thinking about why Vision wasn't speaking. "Wanda, did Vision get any data?" he asked urgently.
"I think so, but I can't tell for sure. His mind is . . . jumbled."
It seemed too much to hope that the data transfer had gone right in the midst of all the other things that had gone wrong, but either Vision was overwhelmed by the amount of information or he'd been compromised by his exposure to the HYDRA computers. Tony didn't want to even consider the latter as an option. "Rhodey, you're going to want to get out of the suit. I need it."
There was some rustling, then Rhodey said, "It's all yours."
"Vision, transfer whatever you've got to the suit and Friday will take it from there." There was no audible acknowledgment, but new files began appearing on their HYDRA server. Tony couldn't help but hold his breath as the list grew longer and the seconds ticked by.
They had come so close to losing half the team and they still might have lost or damaged Vision and it was too much for his already shredded nerves to take. "Vision?" he demanded.
"That was . . . odd," Vision said faintly. "But I believe I was able to copy everything."
Tony heaved a sigh of relief that was matched by a sigh coming from Steve's direction. There was cheering from the other end of the comm. "Good job, buddy."
"Let's debrief while everyone is on the line, then we can all get some sleep," Rhodey said.
Tony listened with half an ear to the discussion as he began dismantling his viewing setup. There was no longer anything to see, there was nothing he wanted do with the new HYDRA files yet, and just sitting and listening meant he'd have time to dwell on what had happened. Steve remained seated, taking notes on a notepad Tony couldn't remember noticing earlier.
When Rhodey bade them good night and the comm line went dead, Tony sighed, tossed his headset onto the table, and debated whether to leave the rest or finish cleaning up so he wouldn't have to do it later. Steve didn't move at first, his jaw clenched, then he slowly removed his headset and said, "You should not have encouraged Wanda to manipulate them."
"If you had a better idea, you should have said something."
"It's a matter of principle, but I should know better than to think you have principles. For you the ends always justify the means."
"When the alternative is someone getting killed, yes, Wanda manipulating the enemy is worth it. And the ends don't always justify the means. If you paid attention you'd already know that."
"So you admit you don't have principles, then?" Steve asked with a smirk.
Tony huffed in frustration. "I have principles," he insisted. "They aren't the same as yours, but they do exist."
Steve scoffed, rising from his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "How is anyone supposed to know that when you don't stand up for them? All you know how to do is compromise to get what you want. It's only ever about you."
"How is suggesting that Wanda turn the enemy against itself about me?" Tony asked, bewildered. "I may be a genius, but I don't follow that logic, Rogers."
"Because by doing it you're turning the Avengers into something they're not. The Avengers are supposed to make the world a safer place. We can't do that through dishonest means or we're no better than HYDRA."
"Who did you want to die, then?" Tony shot back, noticing that he was almost yelling but he didn't care. If his words didn't get through that thick skull, maybe his volume would.
"No one had to die," Steve objected, his voice also raised.
"They were outnumbered and outgunned! What other outcome could there possibly be?"
"They could have retreated, regrouped. We could have tried again when we're back at full strength!"
"Do you really think HYDRA would wait around for us to go back? They'd nuke the data, destroy the base, and scatter. Mopping them up has been enough of a nightmare, the last thing we need is that many HYDRA goons going to ground. Honestly, it's something of a miracle they were even there for us to find."
It was the truth, every last word, and Steve seemed to realize that, too, for he didn't speak immediately.
Tony belatedly recognized another truth. "This is about you not being there to help, isn't it? Well, let me be the first to burst your bubble: there isn't a single thing you could have done by being there. What, would you have flung yourself out of the quinjet at the jetpacks? You would've fallen to your death or forced Wilson or Rhodey to catch you and taken them out of play. Flinging your shield wouldn't help, either. Clint shooting them would have been a better gamble, but giving him the opportunity would have endangered the jet and everyone aboard. I thought about that at the time, and I'm sure Rhodey did too."
Steve clenched his jaw and said nothing.
He wasn't finished. "And you want to talk about the ends justifying the means? You went AWOL to find Barnes during the war. You broke into a military base to steal Wilson's wings. You took down S.H.I.E.L.D. to get at HYDRA. You interfered when they tried to arrest Barnes for the Vienna bombing. You've busted people out of the Raft. Worthy ends, dishonest means. And then there's the straight up dishonesty, dare I even call it hypocrisy, of hiding what you knew about my parents. If you want to give a lecture about principles, try facing a mirror."
"Are you going to lecture me on principles?"
"As if I would dare to lecture you on that. All I know how to do is compromise to get what I want," Tony said bitterly. "At least you've been consistent in your low opinion of me. I have to give you that."
"Tony-"
He held up a hand. "No. Don't. We both know you don't mean whatever conciliatory thing is about to come out of your mouth so let's skip to the part where we end this conversation."
A different voice answered. "You've said your piece, you should let him say his," Dr. Tanya said gently as she approached the table. "Sit down, both of you."
"Why are you here?" Tony asked suspiciously, eyeing her fuzzy blue robe and wondering who woke her.
"Friday called me."
"How long ago?" How much did you overhear? was the question he wanted to ask but didn't.
"Long enough." She looked between them in silent censure as she sat down. They both hastily took their previous seats. "Now, this discussion will be most productive if you both agree to take what is said in good faith." She focused on Steve. "You were about to say something."
Steve seemed to deflate somewhat under her gaze, but the fight didn't fully leave his posture as he turned to Tony. It took him several tries before he managed to ask the question. "You said you have principles. What are they?"
Tony could only guess how Rogers might've said it in Doc T's absence. He looked at her and she nodded in encouragement, so he turned his attention to Rogers. "Are you seriously asking me that right now? You've known me for how long and you're only just asking at -" he checked his watch, "-three in the morning?"
"Maybe I should have asked sooner, but I'm asking now," Steve said defensively.
Tony checked the coffee pot and his mug. Both were empty. "How about we hold that thought until I can get more coffee."
"If you're both willing, we can have this conversation later," Dr. Tanya offered.
Tony eyed Steve warily. "I can just get more coffee," he said. "I can't guarantee when I'll be available, and I think I'd rather deal with the bee in his bonnet now than have to worry about it later."
"Your schedule is the most important," Steve said bitingly.
"Fuck you," Tony retorted as he took the pot and the mug to the kitchen area. He could hear Dr. Tanya and Steve conversing in his absence, and he didn't care enough to wonder what that was about. He was on his umpteenth hour without sleep, his stomach wasn't thrilled at the idea of more coffee, and he should probably be checking on how the other things were going, but dealing with this now was easier than adding it to the pile of things-to-be-anxious-about.
And if Rogers actually listened, it might even be worth it.