The ringtone blared across the table, and Holly practically dove to pick it up. It had been roughly forty-five minutes since she'd made her first call, and as night had blanketed the world once again, she was nervous that she would have to wait until dawn before anything was heard. She'd flung the phone away in a moment of frustration—with it, with herself—and now she was paying for that action. Swiping the display to accept the call, she was just relieved Maria was out of the room at the time and was not a witness to her slide.
"Jane," she exhaled into the phone, gracelessly wiggling to sit on the tabletop.
A light chuckle echoed through the speaker in her ear. "Holly Martin. Hi! I just got your message. I have to say, I wasn't expecting a call from you."
True enough; though the women had exchanged numbers some time ago, they didn't exactly keep in touch. Not that they didn't get along or anything, but they just weren't close enough to do so on a regular basis. On occasion, they'd send texts back and forth, but that was the extent of it. Holly nodded at the point.
"Yeah. I didn't wake you or anything, did I?" she asked, her tone apologetic. It was about six hours ahead, Greenwich-time, but she had no actually idea where Jane was.
"Well, not really. My flight back to London was delayed; I napped in the airport, caught up on my sleep that way," the other woman responded, brushing off the unspoken apology. "What's up? You didn't say much in the message, but it sounded important."
The younger woman drew in a deep breath, swallowed. "It...it kinda is, at least I think so. Listen, I need your help. The team needs your help, actually."
The shift in Jane's gears almost could be heard, her voice conveying seriousness. "What's going on?"
It was short question that required a long answer. To the best of her ability, Holly attempted to summarize the last three days, yet again (at that point, she was sure that if she were ever interviewed about it, she would have a succinct explanation down pat). When she spoke of Ultron's theft of Loki's scepter and the subsequent tracking of the creature to Africa, the astrophysicist expressed muted outrage, and even more came out when she realized it all happened due to experiments at the hands of the leading scientists of the team. But the point of the call, Holly iterated, was not just to give her an update. Rather, she was asking Jane to employ her connections at both the universities where she held sway. With her support, the colleges could supply manpower for relief efforts and funding for the future, ensuring the Avengers' foothold in the world and grounding it, thereby reducing the distance between them and the public in the process. They would need aid, all of them, and though the Avengers could supply some, they needed to be more involved. They could only do that if they in turn had some help.
A shocked silence followed as the other woman digested the proposal. On her end, Holly crossed her fingers, praying to high heaven that the idea would not be rejected outright. Soon enough, Jane found her tongue again.
"Holly, what you're asking for takes a lot of time and sway, and I'm not sure I have that." A short breath ghosted across the line, and Holly could picture Jane shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head. "I'm just an astrophysicist."
"Well..." Holly struggled for a moment, lighting on an answer to that quickly, "tell the universities it's an investment opportunity. Think of the possibilities it will open up for the students."
"Such as?"
"Internships at a funded base of operations. Part-time work in the same place. Missions trips around the world in partnership with other nonprofits." Holly ticked the points off on her free hand as she went. "All for the benefit of the world around them. They'll be given chances to actively make a difference, learn new skills..."
Jane snorted mildly. "No offense, Holly, but schools really look at the bottom line more than anything."
The younger brunette harrumphed under her breath. Damn money...
"Like I said, investment opportunity," she interjected over her bitter thoughts. "What school wouldn't want to be in partnership with the Avengers? To say the Avengers supports them in return? And who wouldn't want to give money to such a school? It'd be no different than if they'd agreed to help out with army recruitment or something. As one of the world's foremost women in your field, I think they'd accept your endorsement as a bridge. That could help fast-track the process, right?"
A quiet whistled followed the statement, and some amusement entered the other woman's tone. "Wow, and I thought I was blunt to the point of painful."
Closing her eyes, Holly was beginning to wonder if making these calls was such a good idea.
"C'mon, Jane. This could make or break them, for the future," she repeated carefully. And it really did hang in the balance; they had to give back, they had to get some help, or they would lose everything. They could lose each other...and the thought made her stomach turn. Softly, she continued, "For Thor's sake, if not for the team's or mine?"
More silence, more ticks of the clock passing by, and nothing was said.
Jane sighed audibly. "...I'll make some calls, and get back to you as soon as I can."
After the initial shock passed, Holly was about ready to jump to her feet and dance in celebration. Instead, she exhaled in relief, blinking up at the ceiling and swinging her legs off the table.
"Thank you, thank you."
"I can't promise anything," the astrophysicist interrupted hastily. Building false hope would do them no good, and there were no guarantees that the premise would be accepted by her colleagues. Still, it would be worth it to make the attempt. "And, they're going to want to see some paperwork, or a charter, or something. But I will definitely try."
"I appreciate it, either way," Holly enthused, grateful for the promise in any regard. Rounding the table, she grabbed up some of the paperwork that Maria had been working on, stuff that companies and such would need to see to legitimize the venture. If she was willing to try, then she was pleased to have gotten that far. "Thanks, Jane."
"Don't worry about it," Jane chuckled once more, the call ending shortly after. Some of the weight that had descended onto Holly's shoulders was lifted. Not much progress, but she was doing what she could, what was needed. Scrubbing hard at her face, she brought the phone up again, her resoluteness rising as she swiped back to the other number she'd been trying to reach. Pressing the green button, she waited as the dial tone went through, a click and shift on the other end making her heart thump in anticipation.
"...Hey, Pepper?"
In London, Jane stared down at the illuminated phone in her hand, the screen deactivating after several long seconds. What Holly was asking would definitely take time, but she supposed the merit in the idea would help them all out in the long run. And to be honest, as humble as Jane was, she was a little intrigued at the idea of throwing her weight around. It would show who was actually willing to partner with her in her endeavors, and not just kiss up to her for notoriety's sake. Unfortunately, it was far too late (or early, she supposed; it was about three in the morning, last time she checked) to be starting right away. It could afford to wait a few hours. Meanwhile, she had other things to attend to.
Inhaling sharply, she cast a glance over her shoulder, back through the open doorway of her bedroom. The darkness was touched by the light of the hallway she stood in, slanting across the bed. When she'd arrived home, she'd been happily surprised to find the large frame of a certain blond god stretched across it, quilts tangled around his body as he rolled onto his back. Thor had sent her no message of his arrival, or even of his being in town; in fact, she'd heard nothing from him in a few days, not since he alerted her that he was on the move again, off to another battle. She'd wanted to wake him, to greet him properly, but the look on his face in rest had stopped her. It seemed that there were equal parts pain and worry cutting into his features as he dreamed, the lack of peacefulness jarring her. She'd known he'd been having a rough time with his personal tracking (and losing) of Loki's scepter, but she had no idea to what extent the trouble ran. After the news report from Johannesburg, and now from Holly's own lips, she had a better idea. And she was determined that he would not get away with keeping her in the dark. Not again.
Padding silently back into the room, she dropped her phone on the nightstand, bending over to switch on the lamp. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she leaned over the prone form of the god, intending only to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before getting down to business. However, the loving gesture roused him, made his fingers slide into the cascade of brown hair falling over her shoulder and press his lips fully to hers. Weary blue eyes blinked when she drew away, though the tenderness he felt for her shined through. Jane was a sight he would never tire of waking to.
"Jane," he breathed, her name a caress, a balm to the breaks in his soul. She nodded, her fingers toying with the neck of his borrowed t-shirt (a new one, she noted, not one of the few he had left in her drawers). The lines on her brow became more pronounced as her brown gaze remained on him, steady and concentrated.
"Thor." She cupped his face, drawing him forward and bringing him to sit upright as she gave him another searing kiss. Strong arms enveloped her, stirring the longing deep within that she'd been pressing back while he was away. However, she would not give him the opportunity to get lost in it; she wanted answers, and she would have them. Alas, it did not last long enough for him, but her tone when she spoke again would not allow him to indulge in another distraction. "We have a lot to talk about."
Peering into her face, he saw that she had retreated far from her affectionate state. The look on her face, the one that had all the elements of courage, determination, and curiosity, was one he'd seen many times. In that moment, something more underlined the emotions, and he saw it rise up the longer they stared at one another. She knew, knew things were amiss, and she would not let them lie. Nor would she let him go on without telling his part. Much as he would rather not tell her, for her protection, he could not choose that course any longer.
Sighing briefly, he dipped his chin, his grip around her tightening as he prepared himself. "Indeed, we do."
xXxXxXx
Nudging at her shoulder, a sharp shake, brought Holly out of her doze. On and off over the last day, she'd found herself sleeping at random moments, her patterns broken entirely and her dreams nothing short of unsettling. She did not sleep long or well, but it was enough for her to function, for the most part. However, she'd been fairly peaceful for the last round (despite being crooked over the table, face pillowed by the printed sheets of paper she'd been pouring over), and was not entirely overjoyed to have been woken. Swiping a hand at her mouth, she blinked at Maria, an expression just short of a scowl on her lips.
And then she blinked again, befuddlement overtaking her as she glanced over her companion's body. Rather than her normal office wear, the assistant was decked out in navy jumpsuit, a pocketed belt around her hips and guns holstered at her waist. Heavy black boots were laced onto her feet, and her face was devoid of even the lightest makeup. The ever-present bluetooth receiver was still tucked into her ear, and her hair was up in its utilitarian style, but that was all that was the same about her appearance. In truth, the outfit seemed more correct for her than the business dresses and heels she sported nearly around the clock since the younger woman had known her. Her posture was erect, but somehow it seemed relaxed as well. Holly reckoned, belatedly, that this must have been her standard gear for SHIELD, back in the day. But why wear it now?
"Come on, get up," Maria cut through her thoughts, gently tugging on her arm until she forced herself out of her seat. Doing as she was prompted, Holly rubbed at her eyes, yawning wide and falling in step as Hill moved away.
"What's going on?" she wondered, but no answer was forthcoming. Instead, Maria led the way out of the office, treading swiftly towards the upper deck of the Tower via the stairs as opposed to the elevator. Given that it was only a few floors away, it did not present much of problem, but it still was a curious choice. Exiting the stairwell, the heavy door clanging behind them, Holly could hear the low murmur of voices in the open sitting area, male voices. A part of her could not stop the swell of hope as it beat in her heart, could not stop the thought that perhaps the team had performed a miracle and gotten back to Manhattan in mere hours. The fire was doused as soon as came up on Maria's left, seeing the two men who were there. Due to extensive efforts between the two women and a temporary cleaning crew, the shards of metal and glass had been disposed of, allowing the men present to sit down in comfort again. They both rose to their feet at the females' approach, and Holly felt her body sag in disappointment.
She chided herself for it; after all, she knew that it was highly unlikely that the team could be back that quickly, just as she knew that there were plans for Nick Fury to turn up. And so she managed to greet him well enough, the older man much more imposing in person, as ever. Having found a fount of courage earlier on, she had straightened her spine and met his gaze. Nodding over to his companion, she felt her gut constrict briefly before forcing a grin onto her lips.
"Dr. Banner." Images of the news reports flashed through her mind, footage of the Hulk growling and breaking, smashing and beating everything in his path resurfacing then. It must have shown in her eyes, the suppressed revulsion, as the doctor visibly flinched when she looked at him. Immediately, she felt awful for doing so. She knew the guy, not well, but she knew how different he was from his greater form and how much he abhorred it. He seemed to shrink in on himself, though he still met her gaze.
"Hi," he muttered, sinking back down into his seat when no more was said. Fury darted a look at both of them, but seemed to inwardly resign himself to something, holding out his hand to for Banner to shake before turning back to Maria.
"Ready to go?" he asked. Holly physically jerked back at the inference, and gaped at Maria's answering nod.
"Wait, what, you're leaving?" she crowed, her nerves jangled. She couldn't recall the assistant ever mentioning that she would be going away, abandoning her post. Where could she and the ex-director of SHIELD be headed that was more important than staying behind for? Helping out the other woman had kept her grounded, solid, and now that rug was being torn out from under her feet.
"Some parts of our joint venture have to happen elsewhere," Fury intoned carefully, conscious of Banner's inquisitive glance. Holly nodded in understanding, though it was quite obvious that she didn't fully get what they would be doing. Frankly, Nick preferred it that way. "We've got a few things to pick up. You both can hold the fort down until the rest of the team comes back, right?"
The request sounded flippant when it came out of his mouth, but the grim lines in his face told her how deadly serious the older man was. Her stomach clenched tighter, the responsibility of it a hard burden to bear. Banner inclined his chin once, but did not speak a word. For her part, Holly took a shaky breath.
"I...suppose so," she replied. Turning to look at Maria, she attempted a slight smirk. "If anybody calls, I can give them your direct line."
The ex-agent wrinkled her nose at that, but her bright eyes glittered in humor. "It'd be better if you just unplugged the phone, in that case."
It may have been a joke, but Holly was giving the idea consideration. Fury nodded once more, adjusting the dark beanie on his head and straightening his black jacket before holding out a palm towards the far elevators.
"Let's get moving," he murmured, giving his compatriot a chance to step ahead. A few of his fingers fluttered in their direction as he began to stride away, a comment thrown over his shoulder as he went. "Good luck. And this time, don't forget the number, Martin."
The reprimand reverberated deep within her, and Holly flushed as she mumbled, "I won't, trust me."
As the retreating pair disappeared into the elevator, the remaining two were frozen in the awkward silence that followed. Studiously, they were focusing on different parts of the furniture in the room, both mired in their own thoughts, their own plans. Where did Maria and Fury go to? What else were they planning on the side? They were like jugglers, multiple balls flying through the air, all of them ready to drop at a moment's misstep. The feeling of something more, something deeper that she could not make out, did not sit well with her. Perhaps she'd have to start digging a little deeper on her own time. Eventually, Holly shook herself out of her mire and stepped forward, drawing the doctor's attention.
"You need anything, Doc—Bruce?" she corrected herself, chastising herself for reverting to the formal title. Though she couldn't claim to be great friends with him, she did know him well enough to be on first-name terms by then. Letting herself be cowed by media reports and footage would not bode well for her, and so she tried to move past the kernel of fear that had cropped up.
Bruce shook his head, folding his hands in his lap. "No, thanks."
A corner of her mouth lifted as she plastered on a friendly expression. "Not even some coffee? There's been a pot brewing pretty much all day."
The two dark gazes studied one another as he digested her words. Slowly, carefully, he nodded his acquiescence. "...Sure."
Busying herself with the new-found task, she went around to the bar along the far wall. Though there was no full pot there, she did find a brewer that made the single cups, and so she assembled two of those. Not knowing his preferences, she dashed a little creamer and some sugar, while she essentially made hers half confection, half caffeine drink. It was her chance to get her feelings under control, to remind herself that she was dealing with a normal man at the moment, not a monster. The doctor was not a monster, nor was the Hulk...but he was a force to be reckoned with, and she'd seen enough news reels to prove it over the last day. Soon enough, she had two mugs in hand, passing his off to him as she sat herself on the opposite couch.
The quiet ate at her as she sipped her coffee, staring around the space. Mere days ago, it had been the scene of merriment and comradeship, and in a few short hours it was torn asunder. The world was turned on its head, and would again, she knew that much. It was just shocking to think how quickly it could do so. Peering at her new companion under her eyelashes, she saw how his body curled in on itself even as he sat up, his hands rubbing around the mug as if he were desperate to warm them. Bruce's glasses were hooked at the V of his button-down shirt, and his mouth was set in a harsh line. Clearing her throat, she voiced her concern.
"Are you alright?" The guy had been through hell, all things considered, and with his low opinion of his gamma-enhanced self, tiptoeing around it was making things worse. Steve had told her the physical damage the doctor had inflicted upon himself, and what Stark had to do to draw his brighter half back out. When he winced, she wondered if she'd been too blunt, or if she failed to underscore the importance of her words. "I mean—"
"I'm fine, thank you for asking." Though his words were polite, his tone was clipped, brusque. He must have thought her inquiry to be false or prying, or at the very least that she was asking simply to get it out of the way. The quirk of his jaw, the darkness of his glimpse as he shot a quick look at her, brought her up short. In an average situation, she found Bruce to be warm, when he allowed his aloof exterior to be put aside. However, he was sapped, exhausted with it all, and she kicked herself mentally for not abiding by it sooner. Stumbling in her speech, she inwardly screamed at herself as she tried to make it right.
"I, I didn't mean to..." she trailed off, staring down into her mug of coffee and at the slight tremor in her hands. She'd chalked that up to the caffeine, and not her nerves; she'd had so much in the last twenty-four hours that it almost had no effect on her anymore. Gripping it hard, she looked up at him again, her expression sorrowful as she sighed. "It's been a rough couple of days."
Despite his mood, despite himself, Bruce felt his lips twist wryly at the statement.
"Yeah, it has," he responded, knowing that he was understating quite a bit. Still, it wasn't her fault that it was that way. Observing Holly for a second, he took note of the stitches on her forehead, healing well enough, and the deep shadows beneath her eyes. "How have you been holding up?"
Caught mid-sip, she let the hot brew slide down her throat before answering. Raising a shoulder, she blew air sharply out her nose.
"I'm...not okay, but I'm just taking everything as it comes, I guess," she told him honestly. Canting her head, she let a small, dry grin play across her lips. "Just trying not to lose my mind."
"Understandable," the doctor concurred, matching her expression. "It does tend to get a little crazy around here."
Snorting at that, she said, "In short, incredible bursts, but when it calms down...eh, it's not so bad."
The pensive look returned then, his brow furrowing significantly. "This burst was preventable, though."
Holly wasn't sure how to respond to that, as it was mostly true. All of it, what had happened since the conception of Ultron, could have been prevented, ignored. It could have been pushed aside if only one of the men working on it had said no, put a stop to it. As such, it had happened, and piling blame on top of everything else was not worthwhile.
"Not like you wanted it from the outset," she replied after a minute or two, tapping a finger along the handle of her cup. "It was just an accident."
Bruce choked out a laugh, though it had a decidedly bitter tang to it.
"My work and accidents go hand in hand, more often than not. Should've remembered that."
"Again, it wasn't what you wanted to have happen." The tapping stopped, and she relinquished the cup to let it rest on the coffee table between them. Crossing her arms over her torso, Holly went on, "You guys will figure out how to stop it."
"You believe that." It wasn't a question, but Bruce was curious as to what her answer truly was. Not being very familiar with this girl, he did know that for someone to be as attached as she was to their leader, she had to have a lot of faith in their cause. Or at least in them. But did she really believe, or was she just putting on a front to get by? He wondered, and he looked hard at her, raking a hand through his dark curls. Her hand cupped the air, the other curling hard into side.
"It's either that, or sink into a miserable pit of despair and go utterly mad," she murmured, letting some humor lace her statement. Soon enough, she let herself slide back in solemnity. "But honestly? Yeah, I do."
And she did. If anybody had any chance of stopping the evil that had come from a pursuit of good, it was the Avengers. The ragtag, hastily assembled group from three years ago was being called out again, and they would have to answer it. Amongst them all, they had the will and the knowledge to take down a menace such as Ultron. Even if they were the ones at fault for creating it. The sincerity in her profession struck Bruce deep inside. His jaw worked back and forth for a few seconds, his mug nestling onto the coffee table beside hers. Breathing shallowly, he rose from his seat, a brief nod sent in Holly's direction.
"Thanks for the coffee." That said, he pivoted on his heel, off to his quarters to await the return of Stark, of Natasha. To await his chance to right the wrongs committed, one at a time. Watching him go, Holly picked at the hem of her shirt, at a loss to say or do more.
"You're welcome," she said, voice barely above a whisper. After he'd been gone for several minutes, she took up the coffee cups, shunting them into the sink behind the bar, tying her hair back with the elastic band around her wrist as she swirled water and soap in the dishes. Tipping them over to dry on a borrowed towel, she gave herself a moment to just breathe. It had been hours since she'd let herself sit still, unoccupied with something other than the tumultuous events that had occurred, the scattered nature of her feelings. Rest, it was time to rest, and her body was marching to that command. There would be time enough to continue working later. Walking back to the sitting area, she tumbled heavily onto the sofa, the coffee in her system nothing more than a lead weight in her belly. Curling up on the sofa, her arms acted as her pillow as she focused on the glass walls. The lights of the skyscrapers stood out as the minutes passed, acting as the stars and nightlights as she was lulled back to sleep.
xXxXxXx
There was no peace to be had on the other side of the world, in the unforgiving light of day.
Helen Cho's lab was in shambles by the time Steve and the others had arrived, her assistants and nurses either fled or dead on the scene. The site had appeared abandoned at first, until he spotted the bodies. Scaling the building, he desperately looked for Helen, tapping into the comms and alerting Nat and Clint to keep an eye out for any sign of Ultron or his sentries. On the top floor, in the back laboratory, he finally found her. Her coat and pants were scuffed, blood seeping from a wound that crossed from shoulder to shoulder. The large room was devoid of anything cradle-like, which caused a spike of worry to fly through his system. It had seemed that he had taken the machine, determined to finish the building process with or without the doctor's help now. She must have tried to stop him; it was the only reason for why the automaton would choose to hurt her. Helen was too valuable to kill...for a time.
Helping her sit up, Steve grabbed a clean swatch of bandages from one of the counters, helping her to wrap it around. Gasping in pain, she confessed how the robot was doing what they feared he would: transferring into a new body, a better body. They had gone only minutes before he'd come in, alerted by the incoming quinjet's systems echoing off his internal one.
But the real power wasn't the body itself; there was a gem, a stone that had enough power in it to level the city were it to be disrupted from its new casing. Unfortunately, that took away the option of blowing the whole thing to smithereens after finding it, and Nat and Clint had huffed in exasperation over the line. Wrenching the wrapping from Steve's hands, Cho nodded for him to go, the grim set of her face only broken by the split in her lip as she continued to care for herself.
Dashing up to the roof, they considered options for the next move over the communication line, with Clint spotting a truck from the lab as a possible transport for the Cradle. Scans confirmed that non-human entities were aboard, piloting the vehicle. It gave Steve less than a minute to sprint from roof to highway in order to catch it, but he made it in time to land on the truck just as it passed under a bridge. It was a narrow window of opportunity, distracting Ultron long enough to take away his grasp at control, and he would take it. It would give Barton and Romanoff the chance to actually figure out a way to take care of the Cradle and the robot without being consumed by the fighting.
It was clear that the robot was angry with the new disturbance, and he showed it by blasting repulsors at Steve at every opportunity. Driving him off the back of the truck, onto other cars, Steve felt his back and legs scream in protest whenever he landed; it was a wonder that he hadn't broken anything yet. Above it all, the quinjet hovered, following as close as it could in the urban landscape. Jumping swiftly, his hands grappled with the side mirror of a military truck, allowing him to swing back onto the semi trailer. Barely gaining his footing, he had to turn quickly, a repulsor ricocheting off the shield magnetized to his back.
"I am trying to bring peace and change to the world," Ultron barked, hovering over the roof of the semi and touching down seamlessly. A claw hooked down, anchoring into the metal as Steve charged him. The shield rebounded off the creature, pushing the man back several feet and almost off the truck. Snidely, the piercing red gaze bit into him, his smooth voice scoffing his attempt. "Is that so frightening to you?"
"Your definition of change is very different from everyone's," the captain retorted, slinging his shield at the demented robot. It was true; after all, any change that involved the decimation of a planet could hardly be called good. But Ultron wanted nor cared for the man's opinion, and he certainly did not care for the vibranium shield to be tossed at him over and over again. Snarling, he smacked it away, the defensive weapon lost to Steve. Left with nothing but his muscle and obdurateness, the captain traded blows with the creature, leaping onto his back and crooking his arm around the neck of the robot. Obviously, he would not be able to choke him, but it should buy the others time to come up with other attack plans. Suddenly, Ultron twisted, pulling his arm off to the side and returning the favor. Claws dug into his throat as he was backed up towards the edge of the truck. Panting, his grip scrabbled at the metal arm, looking like a small doll in comparison to the massive robot. Out the corner of his eye, a blur of blue and black sped up alongside them, red and silver bands flying up and reattaching to his arm. Shield returned, he smashed it against the creature's head, freeing himself.
The battle was far from over, as Steve found himself being repeatedly thrown around or from the semi trailer. He vaguely recalled impacting off more cars, dodging them as they were catapulted into the air and flinging himself back on top of the truck once more. Once free of the overpass, shots impacted around him, pinging off the targeted robot. An air of rage surrounded the creature then, his attacks tripling as his sentries moved off to follow Clint's trail. It was all Steve could do to keep up with punch after punch, tossing Ultron as he had been. When he came back for another pass, the captain attempted a turn, throwing Ultron off-kilter...and throwing them both into the side of a passing train.
Bodily landing on top of one another, both opponents rushed to their feet, the limited space of the train and the civilians occupying the car they were in difficult to work with. However, only the human cared about not causing casualties. Forced into a defensive position, he tried to draw Ultron back towards the hole they'd blown into the side. Nat's voice came in strong over the comm-link, telling Clint that the Cradle, codenamed as the package, was about to be sent to him. Given that both the trailer and the quinjet were airborne, the captain could only wonder how the archer would be able to catch the thing without destroying the city below. One strong backhand, though, made him bang down into a bank of seats, head bouncing off the wall and knocking coherent thought clean out for a moment. Vision blurring, Steve tried to shake it clear before the robot could advance again. It seemed a vain hope as the click of metal feet clanged closer, and so he shot up, a series of jabs bouncing off his raised shield before slamming into his side. The wind knocked out of him, he went down again.
Before another stroke could fall, another blur appeared, pushing hard and knocking Ultron askew. The blue and white trails it left in the air faded, reforming into the person of Pietro Maximoff, silver strands fanning away from his focused eyes. Stunned, Steve rolled onto his knees just barriers criss-crossed in front of the male twin, writhing red auras holding them in place and freezing Ultron's advance. Whipping his head around, both the captain and the robot spotted the girl, Wanda, auburn hair flapping in the rapid breeze, her will and strength giving her the courage to stand her ground. Her eyes reflected scarlet as the robot simply gazed upon her.
"Please, you can't do this," he murmured, too proud to truly beg. Stiffening her spine, she glared at him.
"No, you can't," she shot back, the harshness accentuating her accent. Infuriated with the turning of their coats, Ultron raised his hand towards the male Maximoff, deciding to simply take care of the matter anyway. Instinctively, the young man darted out of its path, narrowly avoiding death. The beam shot past him, out the front of the car, piercing all the way to the conductor's panels. Another panel of windows were torn from the car's side, giving Ultron a chance to escape. Lost now, Steve vaulted over the barriers as the younger Maximoff let them drop. Weaving around the frightened civilians still onboard, he tugged on the shoulder of the conductor, the fellow body crumpling to the ground. Effectively unstoppable, Steve's eyes widened as the train sped towards the end of the tracks.
God, he never had any good luck with trains, he mused perversely. A triumphant cry, followed by a yelp in despair, crackled over the comms before another beat of silence.
A disquieted voice echoed over the line soon enough. "Natasha! Ultron's got her! Can you see her, Cap?"
Roughly, Steve shook his head, belatedly remembering that Clint would be unable to see his response in the negative. His first concern at that moment was no longer the Cradle; Barton had to get it to Stark immediately, with or without them. Yelling at him to take the package and go, he resolved to find Natasha once the train was stopped, once the people of Seoul were safe.
'If,' his brain muttered. 'If the train can be stopped.'
Finding the Enhanced beings, he instructed the male to remove the civilians in the path of the train. The girl watched her brother dash away, blinking against the strong winds whipping in and out of the car. Boldly, she looked him in the eye, accepting his command to stop the careening transport. Making his way to the front car again, Steve observed the blue and white trail barely several steps ahead of them, watching in awe as the people were shunted out of harm's way. Abruptly, the train rocked under his feet, alerting him to the girl exerting her power over the wheels and locks, grinding the brakes to force it into a halt. Chunks of brick and plaster crumbled upon impact with the train, exploded around him as he blocked the onslaught with his shield, but finally, finally, it ground to a stop. Clouds of dirt and torn-up asphalt misted around them as he panted, trying to catch his breath and calm his beating heart. Too close, he thought, it was all too close.
When he disembarked from the train himself, after assisting several citizens off of the broken vehicle, Steve went in search of his erstwhile allies. The twins had settled across the street, on a set of crates outside a small shop. The brother was heaving, evidently having pushed himself to his limit (he noted that for reference later; the kid actually did have a limit). His sister, tentatively touching his arm, was about to go for help, but he waved her off. He just needed a minute to catch his breath.
"I'm not sure you deserve even that much," Steve remarked, blue eyes icy as he narrowed his gaze on the pair. He had no idea what to make of these two, the witch and the blur. They truly were more than their files made them out to be, and definitely more than what Ultron wanted them to be. Strucker's experiments were more complex than they seemed, but, after all, they were still human. Something had happened to make them understand the robot's ultimate stance regarding the world, that much was clear. Otherwise, they would have let him continue on as before, probably would have helped him instead of the Avengers. He was grateful for the turnaround, but that did not indicate that he actually trusted them.
"Is it safe?" Wanda crooned, stepping into his path and blocking her brother, "Is it gone?"
The captain nodded, inhaling sharply. "Yes. We have it; it's going back to the Tower. It'll be in Stark's hands."
Something akin to disbelief and horror dawned on her face, the color that had returned draining once again. "You cannot do that. It's not safe with..."
The certainty in her tone, as if she truly knew Stark's capabilities, made Steve pause. He had no reason to think Tony would be crazy enough to not stop the cycle he started, but...this girl, she could peer into others' minds, read their souls. Yes, she manipulated others' fears to work against them, but she did not plant them there to begin with. Wringing her hands, she shook her head at his denial, the denial of a friend. If the other man could set right the wrong he committed, then he would do it, regardless of the cost or outcome. It was a hard truth to face, yet another one of many in a matter of days, and Steve wasn't sure he wanted to face it. Tapping the link in his ear, he turned away from the twins, reaching out to his partners. Nobody answered, not Stark, not Barton...nobody. A sinking feeling pooled into his stomach, Wanda's low voice demanding his attention.
"Ultron has no idea that saving the world and destroying it are two different things. Who do you think he got that from?"
The implication burned him, made a thread of anger rise, but the little voice at the back of his mind, the one that was good at sowing doubt and discord, knew she was speaking the truth. It hurt to think his colleague, his friend, might not be the right person to stop the evil that was threatening to descend on the world. He could only hope that, once he got stateside again, that Tony would prove him wrong.
"Come on, we've gotta move," he said abruptly, moving his shield onto the magnetic strips on his back. Two sets of eyes flashed over him, two sets of brows furrowed.
"What?" the male Maximoff said, combing a hand through his silvered locks.
"You really want to do some good? You come with me, and you help us shut that thing down." Steve stood, arms crossing over his chest. It was time to draw a line in the sand, show these kids the lay of the land. He understood their fervor, their hopes to better the lives of their country and themselves. If they truly wanted to achieve that, they had to start by lending a hand where it was needed. They could do more good in destroying the true evil, even if they had to work with people they hated to see it done. For a long moment, the twins stared at him, then one another. No agendas, no ulterior motives; there was no time for petty squabbles. Steve raised an eyebrow, the expression unseen due to his helmet covering it, but he figured the set of his jaw and the tightness of his posture indicated how deadly serious he was. The girl, barely inclining her head, gestured a few of her fingers towards the captain, her brother following suit. Agreement in place, the taller man glanced around, eyes upon the skies. There was no alternate plan of getting out of Seoul; the team had made the assumption that they would be able to leave together. With that idea blown out of the water, he had to figure out an alternative. "First we've got to get a ride out of here."
Taking the cue, Pietro got to his feet, his panting reverting back to normal breaths.
"...We have something," he said, locking gazes with the older man. A private jet across town...no manifest, as Nat had reported some time before the whole mess went down. It was likely the way the twins were able to move with Ultron, the pilot manipulated either by fear or by enticement to do their bidding. Knowing it was his only option of getting back in time to prevent more madness, to protect everything he cared for, he dipped his chin. Going into a light jog, he allowed the twins to clamber ahead of him, leading the way.
"Then let's go."
A/N: ...They're gonna have to move fast if they even hope to catch up before that insanity starts.
Yep, Holly's attempting to enlist Jane and Pepper (note she is calling Pepper, not Stark Industries) in the whole Avengers-protection endeavor. I would think that colleges would love to have a chance at getting their students involved with such a team. Not by sending them on missions, but by doing rotations to help with relief or with internships in certain departments within the organization. That's what she can ask for, while Maria and Nick can go after the bigger stuff on the checklist. And yeah, I've actually had Bruce and Holly sit down for a chat. It occurred to me that they've never really interacted before, and the scene kinda just wrote itself. Bruce isn't intentionally being a jerk to Holly, nor is she being intentionally insensitive. Like she said, it's been a long few days, y'all.
...Steve really has terrible luck when it comes to trains. Always. Forever. And sorry if this chapter appeared boring to you, even with the battle in Seoul at the end there. I know it wasn't terribly original, going into the captain's mind and through his viewpoint for it, but hey, he's the one who engages Ultron as a distraction, and he's the one who witnesses the twins switching sides. That's just the way it happened.
I don't own anything from the MCU, nor any other pop culture references that may or may not have been mentioned.
Next week's chapter may be late, or back on the previous schedule of weekend posting, due to the fact that I will be working from May 1-11 without a day off. My days off are my main writing days, so I'm going to try and work in between my shifts as best I can. If it does end up a little later, then I just ask for your patience and understanding regarding it.
One last thing—I now have an AO3 account under the same username (PhantomProducer, as always), which I will be using very, VERY sporadically. I have posted a one-shot there, called Missing in Action, which is about some details not included in Chapter 44 of At Day's End. It's rated MA, technically, hence why it's not posted here, but if you're of age and proper maturity, then I invite you to go over there and read it. Your choice...:)
Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one!