Chapter 5: May Day, Mayday

AN: this chapter really needs no introduction: the Avengers people! I hope I get this right. Please tell me if I do not.

On to the fic

On the morning of the first, Steve had been awoken by a strange churning in his gut, and after a moment of lying in bed he got up and put the notion out of his mind. After his first shot of the day he stripped out of his clothes and showered. He was just about to grab his towel when he felt it again, a strange feeling, and not unlike nervous jitters in his gut. Steve swallowed back on the sudden rise of nausea he felt and grabbed his towel. Just as he was rubbing himself dry he felt it again: the flutter. Steve stopped and looked down at his belly. He slowly pulled the towel away and realized for the first time that there was a very small but noticeable curve to his abs now. He looked up at the mirror and turned to the side, looking at his profile and realizing he was correct: he had a bump. It was subtle and not very noticeable to anyone else but he saw it. With a soft smile curling on his lips, Steve placed a hand on the bump and pressed a little. Firm was the thought that came into his mind: it was firm. And as he was caressing his bump he felt the flutter again this time stronger and Steve at last could pin point the location: the bump. Steve nearly dropped his towel his shock when the reality hit him: he was feeling the baby move. With a grin that could light up Manhattan Steve looked down lovingly at the change in his body.

"Hi sweetheart," he whispered, "did I wake you up?" he felt a flutter and Steve chuckled around his teary smile. "It's okay sweetie, I'm sorry. I've got some things to do, but I'll try not to disturb you any more than I have to."

Steve felt a soft nudge before his womb went silent again. He laughed and shook his head but from what little he remembered from the healers he would be nearing the half-way point in the development, so it should not have surprised him so much that he finally felt the babies move. But it did, and he was so happy. He quickly got dressed and left the bathroom, all the while smiling like a lovesick fool. But Steve didn't care if he had a dreamy smile on his face or that every now and then he placed a hand to his abdomen just to feel the change and sigh at it. Almost against his will, Steve found himself dreaming about his future; about little hands grabbing at his hair, dreaming about the soft smell of milk and baby powder; about hearing the giggles of a child as it ran across his room. Steve smiled and let himself dream about his retirement and the family he would finally get to raise. He let himself hope that he could finally get what all his friends got after the war: peace and a family. And as he put on his family heirloom, the Star of Arthadan and his dog tags with his family signet ring, he finally hoped he could have a chance to become Steve Rogers again, and leave Captain America behind for good.

But alas this was not to be, for not all hopes and prayers come true, and not all dreams have a happy ending; as he was about to find out.

Steven was just finishing up tracking down a lead on an old acquaintance, (one of his Old Masters,) in Germany no less, when he got the call. Steven looked away from his lead and over at his phone with a sour look. When he looked back, he gave the man a bland smile and held up a finger.

"Hold that thought," He said, "I'll be right back." The man tied to the chair was shaking in fear, covered in cuts and bruises, and his hands broken; all of this from the fight that he gave Steven before he became strapped to the chair. Steven smiled blandly before he turned around and grabbed a gag. After making sure the man was thoroughly silenced, Steven turned back to his phone and answered.

"This had better be important, Jonathan," Steven said tightly, "I was in the middle of something." Jonathan didn't answer for a moment but after a long breath he found his words.

"There's been an incident," Jonathan said. Steven rolled his eyes and glared over at his prisoner as he tried to shout through his gag. The man suddenly had a sharp knife pointed at his genitals with nothing holding it but air. He looked at Steven with wide fearful eyes, and Steve returned it with a cold smile.

("Do that again and I'll remove you of something really important, am I clear,") Steven telepathically told the man, and he nodded when Steven emphasized his point by pressing the knife a little harder into the man's balls. The man nodded quickly and the pressure was removed. ("Good.")

"There's always an incident somewhere with SHIELD, Jonny," Steven replied with a sarcastic chuckle.

"Steven," Jonathan said and paused, "this is a level 7." Steven went rigid and stood up straight from leaning against his table, with one little sentence, Jonathan had focused his entire attention on the phone in his hand. Level 7 meant something catastrophic had happened, and Steven needed to know what it was before it bit him in the ass.

"What happened," Steven demanded. Jonathan sighed in relief.

"Are you alone," he asked. Steve looked over at his captive with an appraising look, assessing his worth, finding it lacking, before he delved into his mind and took what he needed. It wasn't much, but more than he had on his Ada's location and that of the Programmer, before he turned his attention back to the phone. He stood completely still, his shoulders tight, and then quick as a cat, he drew his gun out of its hip holster, silencer and all, and shot the man in the head; all without taking his attention away from the phone in hand.

"Now I am," Steven said blandly before asking in a much more stern voice, "now, what happened?" he grit through his teeth, focusing his ire on his brother's lack of answer.

"Someone's taken the Tesseract," Jonathan replied quickly and with no small amount of agitation. The news stunned him into silence and made the short hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It felt like someone had poured ice water down his back, or that he was being frog marched down to his cell in Siberia again; being forced into that cold cell, chained and left to starve. Steven went rigid and his grip on his phone tightened to the point of fracturing it, before he let out a breath and let go of his fear and anger.

"When," Steven asked as he began to telekinetically pack his things away and unbind his dead prisoner.

"Last night," Jonathan answered, and sighed, "there's more." Steven paused and rolled his eyes with an incredulous sigh.

"How could it get much worse," Steven asked rhetorically with a wry laugh.

"Barton's been compromised," Jonathan answered, and Steven froze. Steven knew what that word meant to them, not just compromised physically but mentally as well. Flashes of his Ada in the Chair flooded his mind before he stamped them down those thoughts ruthlessly. "Fury's calling in the Avenger's initiative."

"What happened," Steven asked, when the shock cleared.

"I don't know," Jonathan said meekly, "I was monitoring communications coming from the PEGASUS project when I suddenly intercepted a transmission call for Fury's presence at the compound. Apparently the Tesseract just turned itself on." Steven felt his eyes widen on their own accord.

"Turned itself on," Steven asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Jonathan answered, "it was quiet for a while, but then suddenly all Hell broke loose. I catch part of an alarm for the immediate evacuation of the base and then after Fury arrived there was an energy spike. Steven," Jonathan said with a fearful voice, "it was just like when you helped those guys a few years back." Steven nodded. He knew what his brother meant. The Winchesters' were a bunch that always managed to find trouble. He was lucky to have found them and give them a job offer before Fury gave them the sales pitch. They were smart, they knew the deal of a lifetime when it was placed in front of them, so they took his proposal, and had been working with him ever since.

"Go on," Steven said, tightly.

"A few minutes later and the signals coming from the base were just…," Jonathan started then finished with a helpless sigh, "gone." Steven started and looked down at his phone in shock.

"Whaddya mean, 'gone'," Steven asked incredulously.

"I mean, Steven, it's just… gone… the base was destroyed," Jonathan said still sounding shell shocked and shaken. "I looked, through a satellite link, it's gone. There's nothing left of that base but a giant crater." Steven felt as though his blood had turned to ice in his veins, and he checked just to make sure his brother hadn't misread the footage, and saw that, sure enough, Jonathan was telling the truth. Where the PEGASUS facility had once been, the base the houses, even the giant satellite dishes, were all gone, and nothing was left but a giant crater full of rubble.

"What happened next," Steven asked calmly in a quiet voice. Jonathan swallowed and cleared his throat.

"Fury put out an all hands on deck," Jonathan stated, and he sounded almost scared, "and said that it was a Level 7. He said that we're at War." Steven felt his breath hitch in response before he forced himself to remain calm as he packed away the last of his things and left the warehouse.

"I'm heading back to New York now," Steven said and heard Jonathan's sigh of relief on the other end. Steven smiled and knew that his little brother was seeking his big brother's guidance and strength. "I'll be there as soon as I can inform Arthadan of this incident. If Fury's calling in the Avengers, then he'll bring in Steve. Arthadan deserves to know that his only heir is about to be pulled into a conflict."

"I'll talk to you when I get more news," Jonathan said. "Bye."

"See ya in a few, Jonny," Steven said and hung up.

Steven stepped into the cockpit of his QuinJet and with only a wave of his hand the ramp closed and the systems turned on, the lights blinking on and screens coming to life. He dropped his bag on one of the seats before he sat down in the pilot's chair.

"Susie, you there," Steven asked, as he turned towards the controls.

"For you, sir, always," Susie replied with her Irish lit. Steven smiled, as he flipped a switch and the engines began to spool up. No matter how bad things got, Susie never failed to make him smile.

"I need to pay a little visit of Arthadan," Steven told her, "can you inform their Air control that I'm coming in, and that I need to have a private audience with the King?"

"Of course, sir," Susie replied, "I am informing them now…. You are cleared for entry into Hithlum air space." Steven grinned, pulling back on the yoke as he ascended into the air.

"Good girl," Steven praised, "keep the engines running after I land, we're going to need to get back to New York with all speed if we're going to get on that carrier." Steven grinned, "We have a boat to catch."

Steve had made the mistake of going through the files again. Seeing the pictures of his men, his friends and brothers, with the red letters stamped across their files below their faces just drove it home just how alone he was in this cold new world. He laid aside Morita's then Falsworth's, and he couldn't even look at Bucky's, bold red letters stamped MISSING IN ACTION below his picture. Steve was sure that Steven's file would say the same, if they had even bothered to send it. He didn't know; he didn't look. He couldn't make it to the bottom of the stack. Every time he got to Bucky's face, he couldn't get past the guilt he felt for his best friend's death and the screams of his only son as Steven blamed him, and told him that he had left Bucky to die.

He hadn't even wanted to look at the files today. He was just doing a bit of cleaning, going through his footlocker, which SHIELD was kind enough to keep for him and give back. Actually he should probably thank Howard for that, but Stark was long gone, and by the glance he had of his son's file, Steve felt that the boy, the man, would probably want nothing to do with him. Steve had found his copy of the comic book he made, the best print they had created, and had indulged in nostalgia. After a few minutes reading and smiling at the antics he and the guys had gotten up to back in the day, he looked over at his clock and realized that it was long since time for his lunch. He put his locker away, carefully placing the precious books and pictures back into the trunk just as he had left them. Lunch was quiet, and left him reminiscing on what had happened and wondering just what his new bosses thought of him. He looked at the strange thing on his table they had called a laptop computer, and was suddenly reminded of Steven's little invention. The thing was a marvel, and did all sorts of neat things, but it was mostly just for Steven to draw with and preserve his drawings in something that couldn't get ripped so easily. It was with a touch of regret that Steve realized it was probably gathering dust in a museum somewhere at the bottom of his footlocker.

So Steve indulged in his curiosity and now he regretted it. The footage they showed was no better than the bad movies and USO films he did before he got to the front. It was all about him, and mentioned nothing about Bucky or Steven, or any of the other Commandoes. Steve turned it off half a minute into the film, too disgusted and depressed to watch it all. He finally mustered the courage to look at the files after he took his second shot of the day, and felt even worse, if that was even possible. Just seeing that they were all gone, made his heart sick, and he wanted nothing more than to get on the next plane to Hithlum and never come back. But as nice as it was, as refreshing and soothing as Hithlum and all its beauty was, Brooklyn was home. It was where he was born and where he had expected to die and be buried. It was nice to know that he had a place there, and he knew that Arthadan would drop everything and come to see him if he called and made any inclinations that he was lonely. But Steve felt that he needed to strike out on his own for a while, though it was nice to have someone watching his back.

Peggy's file brought with it a deeper longing, and a bone deep regret. He thought if he woke up alive, he would see Peggy again, get that dance they talked about and start having what they wanted so badly in the war, but couldn't have because of duty. Steve was reminded of that old song, When the Lights Go on Again, and the lyrics in the second verse so much when he thought about how it was supposed to end.

When the lights go on again

All over the world

And the ships will sail again

All over the world

Then we'll have time for things

Like wedding rings

And "free" hearts will sing

When the lights go on again

All over the world

Steve had always felt tears come into his eyes and his throat close up when he heard those words, but he never knew why; now he did, and he hated it. He had his chance and he lost it. He never got his kiss hello, or his wedding ring, and his heart ached to have that back. The only consolation he had was that he was not alone. He looked over at the strange telephone and placed his hand on his slowly growing belly, wondering if he should call her, or wait for SHIELD to give her the news. They told him that her health was failing, and that her memory wasn't the best at times, and that broke his heart. Peggy was the strongest and smartest woman he had ever known, aside from his mother, and to hear that she had become so frail of mind and body made him want to curl up in a ball in his bed and cry. He looked back at the file and slowly set it aside. He wouldn't call Peggy. That just wasn't something he was going to do to her. He didn't want to shock her too much, and besides it wasn't something you could do over the phone. No, Steve resolved, once he had settled in better, in a few weeks, he would pay his best girl a visit in person, and maybe get that dance she promised him, and he promised her.

Steve looked at Howard's file again, and wondered how his friend could have changed so much. He sighed and set the page aside and picked up another: Tony, Howard's son. Steve wondered if he was anything like how Howard had been. From what little he could glean from the file, he sounded like it, and Steve found himself hoping that Howard's boy would be his bridge into this new and scary world he had been thrust into, with all its flashing lights and strange futuristic tech; some of which Tony had invented. Steve put it down and wondered for a moment if he shouldn't just pay the kid a visit, before he shook that thought out of his head and reminded himself that he didn't know Tony and he wasn't some kid. Stark was a grown man, older that Howard had been when he had last seen him. He didn't need Steve or his problems showing up on his doorstep, figuratively and literally. Steve looked outside and saw the nice light and thought that he should spend some time outside and away from his drab apartment. Steve grabbed his coat and keys before he stepped out the door. As he turned to close the door behind him, Steve resolved to buy a couple cans of paint and do something about the walls. It felt so dark and uninviting and he was about to have a baby, so a coat of new paint couldn't hurt; at least in his bedroom. A cool red maybe, or pale blue, he thought. The living room would look nice in bright white or pastel green. It would look nice with the furniture and he wouldn't have to redo their color either. So with that in mind, Steve locked his door and went to catch the El to Manhattan.

Steve spent a few hours wandering the streets before stopping for a cup of coffee. He knew he shouldn't but the healers told him a few cups a day wouldn't hurt the babies, and even if he couldn't feel it, the smell still reminded him of better days. When he stopped at the café he couldn't help but admire the view, and with a pen and scrap of paper he began to sketch. He didn't even realize how long he was there until the waitress refilled his cup and talked to him. It was nice to know the people had a hero they could always look forward to seeing, even if it was only a flyby. Steve smiled to himself as he gathered his sketch and left her a big tip. She was nice enough, and Steve knew how hard it was to live on tips. Steve knew he wasn't going to have this anonymity for much longer, and he intended to enjoy it while it lasts.

The ride back to Brooklyn reminded him of all the things he missed, but for now all he wanted was to get a few hours in at Goldie's to work off some frustration and stress, before he went back to the apartment, preferably with those cans of paint for his bedroom walls. SHIELD was kind enough to tell him they were working on getting his old things back from the Museums where they had ended up, and the first thing he had gotten back was his old cradle. It was old, older than him by far. His mom told him, when he had asked, that it belonged to his grandfather. It was a beautiful white wood carved to look like and angel with outstretched wings wrapping around the sides of the cradle. Steve remembered looking at it and thinking of how pretty it was, and he was ecstatic when he returned from one of his outings to find it sitting in his living room, white wood polished and with fresh paint on the angel. The note had said that they had to strip the paint off, because of the lead, but they had done their best to make it useable again. The little mattress was covered in a reproduction of the cloth that used to cover it, but it looked just how he remembered it. It now had a place of honor next to his bed, always there for him to see when he first got up, and the last thing he saw when he finally fell asleep.

Steve had every intention of doing that, getting the paint, going home, doing his walls, but today had been hard, and he felt grief and stress enough to know that he would be up until dawn again if he went home before he worked it out here. So Steve set up his heavy bag and boxed away with his taped up hands, his punches and jabs getting stronger and harsher and faster as he let his mind wander. The war flashed through his mind and that was the last thing he wanted before he went to bed. So Steve stayed, trying to get the War out of his head so he could get a good night's sleep, but Steve knew it was useless. Every time he saw the War here, he couldn't sleep a wink after, so it was better to work himself to exhaustion before he went home to collapse into bed to sleep until noon.

Steve's punches got faster and stronger until suddenly, hearing a voice he didn't know, say he was alive; Steve pulled back and punched the heavy bag so hard the chains ripped off the bag and sent if flying across the room. The bag it the floor with a thud and slid into the wall, spilling sand all over as he panted and tried to calm down enough to think. He saw the mess and resolved to clean it up before he turned and went to the row of sand bags he had lined up on the floor. He picked the first one up and hug it on the d link.

Steve took a breath and fell back into his proper stance before he threw a couple of punches and jabs at the bag. Suddenly Steve felt a presence and he knew that Fury had finally come.

"Trouble sleeping," the man asked. Steve looked up and over at the imposing man before he turned back to his sand bag.

"Slept for seventy years, sir," Steve said sarcastically, knowing that the man knew he had spurts of insomnia and frequent nightmares, but otherwise slept fine if the room was warm. "I think I've had my fill." Steve continued to punch the bag and ignore the man but something just told him that he should listen.

"Then you should be out," Fury said as he drew closer, his voice bland and professional, "celebrating." Steve looked up and looked the man over. Steve turned away and began to unbind his hands.

"I went under, the world was at war," Steve said, "I wake up, they say we won." Steve paused, his heart heavy, "they didn't say what we lost." Steve finished removing his bandages and shoved them into his bag.

"We've made some mistakes along the way," Fury said calmly, and not unkindly, almost apologetically, "some very recently." Steve flicked his eyes up to Fury, quickly noticed the file in the man's hands, and knew that in a way he was apologizing. Steve was a practical man, and despite his hopes and dreams he knew it was too much to hope they would let him retire, but he also knew that Fury had no intention of bringing him in whilst pregnant unless it was of absolute desperation.

"You here with a mission, sir," Steve asked as he unbound his other hand.

"I am," Fury confirmed.

"Trying to get me back into the world," Steve asked.

"Trying to save it," Fury corrected. Steve looked up and saw the open file, and knew that this was desperation that brought Fury to Steve, and his experience. Steve took the file from Fury's hands and took a closer look. There in the picture, in full color, was the thing he never wanted to see again: the Tesseract.

"HYDRA's secret weapon," Steve said as he sat down, his blood boiling that it all came back down to that blasted cube again.

"Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you," Fury explained, as Steve turned the page and looked at the older picture and file of the item. "He thought what we think," Fury said, and Steve looked up to see his face, "the Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy. That's something the world sorely needs." Steve thumbed through the file and glossed over the data, absorbing the information given. Steve clenched his jaw and also remembered just how HYDRA had used that energy, but Steve pushed that aside. He knew the only reason Fury would tell Steve about this was if they had lost it. He shut the file and handed it back to the scarred man.

"Who took it from you," he asked hoping for an honest answer. What he got was cryptic but honest.

"He's called Loki," Fury explained, "he's… not from around here," Fury said as he took the file. He looked back at Steve and continued, "There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on, if you're in." Fury looked down almost reluctant, and Steve knew the man was coming to Steve with his hat in hand asking for help, and he didn't like it. "The world had gotten even stranger than you even know." Steve scoffed.

"At this point I doubt anything would surprise me," Steve commented as he stood up, a little bitter and a lot angry but not at Fury. He turned towards his bags, and closed them up.

"Ten bucks says you're wrong," Fury bet, with a somber look on his face; almost as if he was regretting bringing Steve into this but not having any other choice. Steve picked up his bag and walked over the heavy bags. "There's a debriefing packet waiting for you, back at your apartment." Steve picked up the closest bag and marched away, heavy bag on his shoulder, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth were creaking. "Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know now," Fury asked as Steve walked away. Steve didn't even need to think about it.

"You should've left it in the ocean," he said without breaking step.

There went his painting plans.

When Steven got back, he went straight to the New York office. He could have gone to DC, and Langley, but the NY office held a special place in his heart. It was also a place where Steven would debrief with Jonathan over his brother's reconnaissance and not bring up any questions as to why Jonathan was coming to the CIA headquarters. When Steven arrived at headquarters, Jonathan was already waiting for him. The two brothers marched silently down the gray painted hallways until Steven stopped before a black door. Steven paused and took a steadying breath. He had been beyond that door many times in the past, but as of late, he had passed it by more often than enter. He'd had no need to go inside, for he was no longer an active agent with in the agency, and on paper, at least, he was only an analyst. But entering that door meant that he was leaving that behind him once more and walking back into the life of blood and death, missions and objectives, targets and debriefs. Steven hated it, but for Steve, for his Ada he would do anything; so with only a slight pause, Steven opened the door and walked inside.

Devinson was standing at the head of the briefing table, and in front of him on either side were two files. Steven walked in and sat down, his brother not far behind him as he closed the door and locked it on his way in. The assistant director of the CIA and Steven's former handler smiled sympathetically at the younger man before he cleared his throat.

"I think you both know the reason you've been called here," Jack asked. Steven nodded, with closed eyes and a tight jaw. Jonathan nodded, and looked at his brother. "Jonathan, will you please tell us what you observed?" The younger brother nodded again and swallowed against the nervous lump in his throat.

"Last night I intercepted a transmission from the PAGASIS facility concerning the Tesseract," Jonathan explained, and Steven tuned out the conversation, already knowing everything his brother was going to say, but he still listened with half an ear as he pondered recent events. It was no mere coincidence that the Tesseract had a spontaneous event, nor was it that the cube was taken just moments after the event, and that Barton, one of the most loyal and trustworthy people he had ever met in SHIELD had suddenly turned sides. Steven thought and came to the conclusion that whatever had happened, Barton had been brainwashed or was under some form of mind control. Either way, it was not a thought that Steven liked contemplating for long.

"Steven," Devinson said as he tuned back into the conversation. Steven looked up and at his little brother with a sheepish expression. "Go on, Jonathan," The director encouraged. Jonathan nodded and smiled encouragingly at his brother, knowing just how hard it was for him to even be in this room at all.

"As of this morning," Jonathan continued after a brief glance at his brother, "Fury has re-enacted the Avengers Initiative." Jack's face became likened to stone for a moment but Steven could see the agitation swirling in his eyes. He nodded once and motioned Jonathan to continue. "Fury made one amendment to his original roster list: Steve." That statement made the assistant director go pale as marble, as he slumped down into his chair.

"Rogers," he said, almost breathlessly as he stared at the dossier in front of him. Jack looked up at Jonathan and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Jonathan replied with a curt nod. Devinson puffed out a long breath through his lips, as he ran his hand through his hair.

"Alright," he finally said before he turned his gaze back to Steven. "Captain Buchanan, these are your new orders." Jack slid the dossier over to the blond before he stood up. "I expect a full report from you both before this is over. Jonathan, you are dismissed. Steven," he said as the captain began to rise, "I need a word with you alone." Steven sat back down and shared a look with his younger brother, before he nodded to Jonathan and the younger walked out.

When Jack finally exited the room he found Jonathan standing dutifully outside the door. The aging man had to smile at Jonathan's hesitancy and stalwart loyalty to his family. But then again, he had never met a family quite like the Barnes'. He nodded and let the younger man come close.

"You've been tasked to the Helicarrier," Devinson asked, and the younger man nodded. "Good. Just remember, kid: you are going to be operating in an environment with possible hostiles. Be cautious, and on your guard. We have no idea how many HYDRA agents are on board that carrier. Good luck, Agent Barnes." Jonathan smiled and took Jack's outstretched hand in his own and shook it.

"Thanks, I will," Jonathan said and slipped into the briefing room. He shut the door behind him and turned to see Steven's face a cold blank mask as he stared down at the dossier in his hands. Jonathan sat down beside him and waited for his brother to finish before he spoke. "Fury's going to be on the carrier," Jonathan said and looked his brother in the eye. Steven looked cold and distant, and so unlike the brother he had known all his life. For a moment he wondered if this was what Steven was like before he'd left field work behind; probably.

"Wouldn't expect anything less," Steven replied his eyes sharp and calculating in their intensity. Jonathan swallowed down the lump of sudden fear and pressed on.

"They'll be conducting the search for Loki from the bridge," Jonathan added, "I've been tasked with helping with the face trace." Steven's face remained passive and cold before suddenly his lips pull into a smirk. It wasn't much but it made him look more human and less like a cold robot, and it eased the tight knot in Jonathan's chest just a little bit.

"Well then," Steven said smugly as his smirk grew, "Fury just got one more passenger."

"Who," Jonathan asked, as his brows scrunched up in confusion. Steven just gave him his characteristic knowing and self-satisfied smirk before he answered.

"Me," Steven said, and Jonathan's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Steven gave him his patented version of their Ada's grin and explained. "Captain Steven Buchanan has just been tasked to SHIELD as liaison officer in training and handling of former enemy agents. As such he's been given a level 8 clearance access, and as such has been tasked to the Helicarrier. Mostly my job will be to, officially, spy on Fury and train STRIKE team operatives to capture freelance assassins like Natasha used to be. Unofficially," Steven paused with a colder look, "I'm there to assess the rot in SHIELD and see if the Agency can lance some of it out." Jonathan smiled in relief for a moment.

"Steve's going to be there," Jonathan said, and Steven snorted in amusement at his brother's sudden protectiveness.

"Jonny," Steven said with a fond tone, "my telepathy and telekinesis can allow me to look different to the people I don't want to know. It's like a glamour; an illusion that I am a deferent person. All I need is to look like I did when I visited him to make Steve believe my cover; no more. And if, when things get heated, I'll leave a clone and go out in the field as the Knight. As long as I remain conscious and focused, he won't recognize me." Steven's eyes softened and he leaned over to pat his brother's knee. "But I appreciate the concern."

"Yasha was tasked to be Hawkeye's backup. They need him, bad. It's the only reason that they're aborting his black out mission," Jonathan said, "he'll be there." Steven's eyes softened.

"I know."

TBC…

Endnotes: wow that was long. I don't know what it is about doing stuff from the film scenes but they always end up being longer than I thought. I hope you liked this and keep commenting, it gives me motivation.

Next up the Helicarrier