Fanfic: What We Could Become | 3 of 4

[blastellanos]

Title: What We Could Become

Artist: dangwhyme

Author: dinahqueen

Rating (both art/fic): R[fic]/G[art]

Universe: Iron Man movie-verse AU

Word Count: 26,050

Warnings: Violence, implied sexual content

Beta: shariangel

Art Thumbnail:

Fic Summary: When a close friend of his dies under suspicious circumstances, Steve Rogers creates an alter-ego with which to investigate the accident and determine what really happened. What he discovers is more complicated than he could have imagined.

Link to Art: What We Could Become [Art]

Link to Fic: What We Could Become [AO3]

The emergency exit wasn't wired anymore so the alarm didn't blare when they pushed through. Tony wasn't entirely sure why- regardless, the three of them spilled out in to an alley that was somewhat clear of debris. Hawkeye nodded to him and still holding his arm, booked out one end of the alley and disappeared around the corner. Tony was fairly certain he was heading to the hospital, though he would have liked to know what the story he was going to feed the nurses on that one would be. Tony was still on a rush, panting quietly, heart hammering with adrenaline. It almost felt like he could feel the whine of the reactor and he kept taking sidelong glances at the Captain, wondering if he could hear it too.

Tony's fingers clutched at the brick wall behind him, and ducked his head down. He felt like he was holding on for dear life, and the Captain wasn't standing too far away from him, just slightly across the alley. He looked ridiculous and Tony thought that perhaps he should have a new costume. But the emotions of fear and adrenaline were tingling across his skin and he felt oddly restless. But he knew a way to cure that.

The Captain had saved his life, it was only natural to feel some pull of attraction to him. He was his hero, and he surged forward and captured his lips in a rough kiss, fingers curling tightly at the man's shoulders. The split in his lip stung and he didn't care. The Captain made a noise against Tony's mouth and reached up to cup his cheek, the leather of his gloves cold against Tony's fevered feeling skin.

Tony had to stand on his tiptoes to reach his lips, and he clutched at the Captain's shoulders, fingers digging in through the thin cloth of the ridiculous hoodie he was wearing. He definitely needed a new costume, but right now, Tony thought he should just keep kissing him like that. He kissed the Captain until he was breathless, and then he pulled back, heart beating faster and skin even more flushed.

"We should go back to my place," Tony said, his voice lower and rougher than he'd expected it. The Captain nodded and Tony grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the car. He shoved him down in to the backseat. "Actually, here works just fine." Tony pushed the Captain back, and didn't bother unmasking him while he unzipped his hoodie and started to trail kisses down his chest through the thin t-shirt.

His lips, instead, encountered the thin t-shirt pressed over something bulky and hard. There was a slight dip where the bullet had hit and Tony drew back to press his finger against it, rubbing his finger over it, and thinking about how much worse that could have gone. Had Steve only thrown himself in the way of the bullet because he'd had the vest on? Or had he cared that much about Tony's life to where he didn't mind risking it. Those things weren't one-hundred percent after all.

Tony couldn't worry about that, whatever else had happened, they were alive. Whoever that man was, they had made it, and Tony didn't want to die. It might be inevitable, with whatever was happening with his company, it seemed like something had to do with a vendetta against him. He couldn't risk putting things off. Or at least...

Tony didn't know who the Captain was, but that hardly mattered. It had never mattered before, all of the women that Tony had slept with, it was just about feeling. Right now his adrenaline was running so high and his chest ached, and he felt like he might just fall to pieces if he didn't have him, someone, right now. The Captain had proven to be willing and Tony was willing to give in to that.

The bulletproof vest would have to wait, they just needed to take the edge of, so he knelt between the Captain's knees on the bench in the car and undid his pants, folding himself almost in half to get his mouth around him. The Captain made a choked off sounding noise and the leather of his gloves squeaked against the leather of the seats.

They eventually made it back to Tony's house and once there, Tony stripped himself out of his clothing, and let the Captain stay in his own. There was a mumble of thanks, appreciative he didn't have to give up his identity, but he knew it had been too hot. Sweat dripped from the Captain's face and on to his back, as he was drawn up on his hands and knees, and given exactly what he was sure he needed. Tony cried out, clutched at the sheets and pressed his face against the pillow, his knees feeling weak and body shaking. The Captain moved above him, felt relentless, deep and to the point where Tony was crying out with every thrust. Then one of those smooth, leather gloved hands wrapped around his cock and stroked him, quick and careful, until his vision whited out and he was coming. Afterwards, they laid together, The Captain breathing heavily and Tony still shaking from the feeling of it all.

Some time in there, Tony fell asleep, with the Captain stroking at his stomach in a soothing manner. When he woke up the next morning there was a note on the bedside table that was hand written.

Sorry I couldn't stay, I had work to do. I'll come see you again. –CSR

Tony stared at the note and wondered why the S and the R in that signature looked so familiar to him. He supposed he couldn't have expected him to stay and he shook his head and got ready for his own day. He had things to do, of course. Almost being killed didn't mean that things stopped moving around the office. It also didn't mean he was any closer to finding out what was going on with his company.

The day was a pretty much boring grind of paperwork, fending off reporters, and getting yelled at by Pepper on the phone when reports reached her about the weapons testing that had killed some civilians. He had to explain to her that he was looking in to it and that, really, she couldn't blame him when he hadn't done it. He wanted to explain to her about the thefts and everything else, but there was no guarantee he wasn't being wiretapped. Tony had done his own security sweeps, but it was possible he'd missed something.

When he got off the phone with Pepper, there was a call from Obadiah who wanted to make him an offer on the company- "while the stocks are still relatively high and you don't bankrupt yourself, Tony,"- but Tony politely refused. Since he wasn't figuring things out and the Captain had saved his life, and they seemed to be working on the same investigation he was, Tony decided he was going to help them with their work.

It was easy to find them, since they were still searching through the ruins of the weapons lab for clues. They were probably going to move on soon, though, since the evidence had probably degraded if they hadn't found anything yet. Tony kept an eye on them through the camera feed he had fixed and when they'd left empty handed, discussing working the angle on other leads, Tony headed out of his office to follow them.

The Captain was unlocking the door to their car when Tony caught up.

"You drive an Aztek?" Tony asked, nose wrinkling, almost in disgust. The Captain whirled when Tony spoke and he looked almost nervous.

"I do," The Captain replied and Tony watched the redness coloring his cheeks, while Clint peered at Tony from over the roof of the car. The car was dark blue and he didn't miss the Stark International parking pass in the front window, either. Curious.

Tony frowned a little and stepped closer to the car, studying it with intense scrutiny. An Aztek, really. It was a horrible car for a superhero, with it's ridiculous plastic framework. And it folded out in to a tent. No, really.

"I was at the Detroit auto show when they unveiled that thing," Tony said, distracted from his purpose in the face of the truck, "I can still hear the collective gasp that audience made." Tony stepped forward and rapped his knuckles on the back door. He could feel the Captain's eyes on him.

"That car could not have been more instantly hated if it had a Swastika tattoo on its forehead."

"Well, I like it," Steve protested and Tony sort of rolled his eyes.

"That doesn't matter, it's not why I'm here," Tony said and he put his hands in his pockets, eyeing the Captain and Hawkeye speculatively. "Actually, I'm here to... offer an exchange here. I want you guys to continue the good work you're doing, I see you on the news, I want to help. I want to sponsor you. But I need your help." Tony paused a moment.

"Look, you two are already working on trying to discover what exactly happened in my weapons lab, but there's another factor. Someone is taking my weapons and harming people with them. I need to figure out who it is." Steve frowned, but then nodded a little.

"So, I will get you better costumes, and weapons, and a car... whatever you need, if you agree to help me." Tony waited and while the Captain stood there, Hawkeye grinned and gave a thumb up.

"Of course we'll help you and accept your help," Hawkeye said and he rattled off an address, "You can deliver anything you need to there." Hawkeye grinned and Tony committed the address to memory with a nod. Then he got their general sizes because really, those costumes.

The next morning, Tony called the number the Captain had given him and announced that he was coming over. The apartment was small and cramped, especially for a crimefighting duos headquarters, which seemed to consist mainly of one computer, a free standing glass board with writing on it, and several hand written notes about what they'd gathered from the weapons lab so far.

Tony's companion, a small statured fashion designer named Janet van Dyne was with him. She took one look at their costumes and then nodded to Tony. "You were right to call me, Tony," She told him with a solemn sort of nod. The Captain gave her a confused look, but she set to work immediately, flitting between the two men like a busy little bee.

Tony sprawled on the uncomfortable couch and watched as the two men were stripped down to their underwear and masks, so Jan could do measurements and adjustments. She had the costumes already, but she needed to tailor some of the lines on the pants and jackets.

Several hours later, in which Tony had dozed off on the couch, Jan woke him to announce that the boys were changing, and that their new outfits were going to be unveiled. Tony had seen most of them, but he was excited to see how they looked in person. When they exited (the Captain from the bathroom and Hawkeye from the bedroom), Tony lit up with delight. It was even better than he had expected.

Their outfits were similar, the variations mainly being in color. They looked very classy, like something out of the old Green Hornet comic books. The Captain's was done in a dark navy blue, almost black, with a crisp white shirt, vivid red tie, and a shiny white vest. It was a technically a dress shirt, tie, and vest- the jacket was cut long, ending mid-calf. The hat was also dark blue with a band of white around the brim, and a pair of red gloves. Though Jan had scoffed a little, she knew dress shoes were not appropriate for a lot of running, so the shoes were modeled on the army combat boots, shiny black.

His tie pin was a silver star, the mask was made of red material, and had wider eye-holes to facilitate better peripheral vision.

Hawkeye's outfit was similar, except his suit was black, and his accents were a jewel colored purple: the tie, the vest, the gloves, the mask, and the band around the hat. His tie pin was a silver arrow and Tony really wondered where Jan had got a tie pin like that. Tony grinned and clapped his hands together and he moved over to where a luggage case sat which he'd brought with him.

"I have presents too," Tony told them cheerfully. The first thing he pulled out was a round shield, red, white, and blue with a star in the middle. "I saw the way you took out those thugs with garbage can lids, and I thought this would be better. I used an experimental alloy, but it should protect you against most projectile attacks."

"And this," Tony continued, "Is for you." He handed Hawkeye a compound bow made from an aluminum composite.

"It's made from the same stuff they make aircraft out of," Tony told him with a smile, "So it should be near indestructible as far as the limbs and cams go. The bow string is made of a high-modulus polyethylene." Hawkeye was looking at him as if he was speaking Greek, but Tony wasn't worried.

"Since I had the formula for the Chobham armors because of course, they wanted me to make weapons that pierced that armor, I made your body armor from the same type of composite. I manage to rework it so it'll be lightweight enough to go under your suits." Tony held up the body armor. He pulled out the utility belts next.

"I based these off of Batman," Tony said, and he started explaining out they were opened using biometric scanners that measured certain rhythms of their heart beat in order to open for them, and went through a list of the gadgets and items which were contained within. Most of the things he'd had on hand and had only required minor tweaks. The actual security systems on the belts had been the hardest to design, but he hadn't slept the night before, so it all worked out.

"Wow, Tony, this is... really amazing," The Captain said and he sounded awed. Tony grinned at that and he bounced up on to the balls of his feet, looking pleased as a person could be. They said goodbye to Jan, who Tony wrote a check to, and then he focused on the Captain. Hawkeye went back to the computer, where he seemed to be playing Bejeweled. Tony reached out and took the Captain's hands in his own.

"As wonderful as that suit looks on you," Tony told him in a low voice. "It would look a lot better on your floor." He smiled up at the Captain, looking at him through his eyelashes, which dipped artfully to a coy expression. He watched that flush of color return to the Captain's cheek and felt something close to triumph well up in him.

The feeling of triumph increased when the Captain led him to the bedroom.

* * *

Obadiah, with trepidation, flipped the switch on the reactor and watched as it whirred to life. For ten seconds it glowed brightly, like the one he'd seen in Tony's chest, before it popped and sparked and began smoking, having a meltdown right in front of Obadiah's eyes. Annoyance flashed quickly in his eyes and he slapped the smoking reactor from the work bench, watching as it shattered against the tiled floor.

The scientist winced a little and looked down at the pieces of the failed reactor on the floor. Obadiah was red-faced, fingers clenched tightly, and then he slammed his fist down on the blueprints for the reactor. Another scientist jumped when he did, but he wasn't particularly worried about what they were thinking. He was angry... upset, because Tony Stark had built this from memory under duress and his team of scientists couldn't build it with the blueprint.

"We've tried everything-" The scientist began, but Obadiah's glare cut him off.

"Obviously, you have not tried everything," Obadiah cut in, his voice steady despite the rise in his anger, "If you had tried everything, that wouldn't be in pieces on the floor. If you had tried everything, we would have a working prototype of that reactor. Tony Stark built this in a cave with a box of scraps. You have a fully stocked lab and blueprints to work from."

"But, sir," The scientist started, "I am not Tony Stark. The man is a genius." Obadiah frowned even darker and he lashed out, knocking some poor person's laptop to the ground, where the screen cracked and then went black.

"I don't care if you're not Tony Stark," Obadiah said through gritted teeth. "You had better have a working prototype for me when I return tomorrow... or may god have mercy on your soul, because I won't." Obadiah straightened his suit jacket out and then turned, heading out the door.

As he walked down the sterile halls in the weapons wing of Stane Industries, he began to devise a fallback plan. If his scientists couldn't make a reactor from a blueprint, perhaps they could reverse engineer one from the one that was already built.

* * *

Tony fiddled with a pen, dancing it through his fingers like a stage magician, and watching as the sunlight from the panes of windows winked across the silver casing. He had his feet propped up on the desk, getting smudges of dirt on the stack of papers that was spread across it. He didn’t really care; it was all inconsequential garbage anyways. Another offer from Stane Industries that he wasn’t even going to consider. He’d told Obadiah a week after he got back that he was getting out of the weapons business. He wasn’t going to sabotage himself by selling designs meant to kill to people who’d not hesitate to use them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Obadiah... no, it was exactly that he didn’t trust Obadiah. It was difficult to explain, Tony wasn’t trying to, anyways.

Tony had already told him no, several times, because he knew exactly what would happen if someone else became the head of SI. It wasn’t as though there was anything he could do to make Obie stop asking. It wasn’t as if he could stop talking to a man who had been such an integral part of his life for almost as long as he could remember. As the head of the company, Tony was getting annoyed. However, Obadiah was an old friend, so he kept letting him down as gently as possible, and hoping that he got it, eventually. Stark International was no longer involving itself in the business of making weapons and that included selling old designs to rival weapons manufacturers. They could use the money, stock points were dropping still, but Tony wasn’t going to compromise this, himself, his integrity, anymore. He’d made a decision and he intended on sticking with it.

Tony leaned forward and dropped his pen on the desk. It rolled and fell. He leaned back in the chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. It wouldn’t stave the headache that he could feel coming on, but the act of it helped him to not think about it as much. The stress was getting to him. He dropped his feet back to the floor, curled his toes in his shoes, and started looking through the calendar on his desk. He wondered if he could skive off his appointments for the rest of the day. He had a lunch with a potential business partner in half an hour. He was sure he knew what the pitch would be.

He’d had a similar offer a week and a half prior, they wanted to buy in to Stark International, as a majority shareholder at fifty-one percent. They’d spoken a good pitch about how Tony’s name would still be on the building and that he’d still be able to keep designing... but he’d lose his position as the CEO and anyone else in that position would probably re-open their recently closed weapons departments. He’d tried not to make jobs an issue; he’d called in favors, and re-assigned as many people as he could. They were losing money, still. They’d pulled out on their government defense contracts. Howard had put some of them in place and losing them was hurting the business. For years, Stark International had built itself up with the help of government money, and it was terrifying to walk without that crutch.

Tony had ideas, of course. It was just a matter of getting the board of the directors to listen to him for once.

The board of directors was all shareholders. Tony did hold fifty-one percent of the shares currently, with the rest of them spread out to his board members in varying degrees. Tony would have to give up his own shares, and then he’d have no say at all. They’d only keep the name so that there was recognition when they sold their death machines to the highest bidder.

The alternative wasn’t better either, where he let someone buy in to the company, and he became something ridiculous like Stark-

He paused in his thought process to peer at the name of the man listed on his schedule. Justin Hammer, god. Stark-Hammer International. Actually, knowing that egotistical bastard, Hammer-Stark International.
Tony rubbed his bridge again and closed his eyes.

He decided that he wasn’t going to show up to that meeting and wondered what type of excuse to use. He supposed he could tell Justin he had some pressing business with a gorgeous blonde. Or blond.

”Mr. Stark,” his secretary’s voice interrupted his thoughts as it crackled over the intercom, ”There’s a Captain Rogers here to see you.” She sounded hesitant. Tony stared at the intercom for a moment before he parsed the name and he hit the button.

“Send the Captain in,” Tony said and he spun his chair away from the desk and looked at the window, out over the concrete jungle. He missed Malibu.

“Mr. Stark,” The familiar voice greeted him and in the faint reflection in the window, Tony saw the man tip his hat forward. Tony rolled his eyes and spun his chair around, gesturing towards the low, leather chairs set up in front of his desk. Steve moved from the door and took a seat. Tony smiled lazily at him.

Gorgeous blond it was. He crossed Justin Hammer off his calendar.

“How can I help you?” Tony asked. He propped his elbows up on his desk and laced his fingers together, leaning in to study Steve with a smile as he removed his hat and set it on his lap. The Captain smiled at him slightly, dimples showing and he leaned forward too.

“Actually, I think I’m going to be the one helping you.”

“Oh really?”

“I think I’ve figured something out,” The Captain said, smile fading as he focused on something more serious. Tony nodded a little.

“What have you got?”

"I had a friend of mine at the department check in to Jovan's phone records, and there were suddenly a lot of calls to the same number," The Captain explained, "Right now they're running a trace on the number, Sharon's working as fast as she can, but you know how the red tape can be. They're looking in to his bank account too." He shrugged his shoulders. Tony nodded his agreement. The Captain smiled.

"I also have my friend running a DNA sample we managed to get from our attempted assassin, so hopefully, that'll give us some clues," The Captain added. Tony nodded again.

"I have a meeting soon," Tony told him with a quick smile and the Captain made to stand, Tony beckoned him over. "No, you don't have to go yet." Tony's voice was low and quiet and when he moved over to him, Tony grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him down for a kiss.

* * *

Steve's phone chimed with a familiar song and Sharon's face popped up on the view screen and he couldn't help but smile. Despite the way things had worked out, they were still friends, and she was helping him... even if she didn't know she was helping him. He pressed the button for the speakerphone.

"Detective Carter," Steve greeted, frowning a little as he tried to figure out the devices that Tony had delivered that morning. He looked at the little darts that were supposed to be loaded and shook it, looking as the small amount of liquid splashed on the sides, "How can I help you?" He asked. Clint was putting the fletching on his arrows but he looked up to listen to what Sharon had to say.

"Captain," Her voice was as cool as it ever was, in what Steve called her 'business' voice. "I ran those phone records like you asked me to, and the bank accounts, and you're really not going to like what I found out." Her voice suggested as such and Steve leaned forward, setting the dart aside and grabbing a notepad so he could write down the information she had to give him.

"Alright, Carter, let's hear it then," Steve said after a moment, pen poised over the paper.

"Well, first the phone records, all those calls... someone wasn't covering their tracks as well as they should have been. It's circumstantial so far, as per pursuing it in a legal manner," She said and her tone pointed. Steve shifted in his seat nervously, "The calls came from a phone registered to Obadiah Stane."

"Stane? Isn't he one of those industrialists?" Clint asked. Steve nodded a little.

"Yeah, Stane Industries is one of the competitors of Stark International, only not so much now, since Stane is almost exclusively defense contracts and weapons manufacturing. It makes little sense for them to be targeting Stark International when they've already removed themselves from the competition," Steve said with a frown.

"There's more," Sharon interrupted, "The bank statements were a little more worrying. See, Stane Industries has a subsidiary company Ezekial Enterprises, based in Puerto Rico that has their bank accounts off shore, somewhere in Europe. That company has been giving massive payouts to Jovan, they're labeled as paychecks, but Jovan Shani was employed at Stark International. Personally, I think there was something going on there." The sound of the station crackled over the static as Steve and Clint exchanged a look.

"So you're thinking Stane was paying Jovan money... for what purpose?" Steve asked and Clint straightened up.

"Captain, that's it! The folders they were pa- looking for hidden away in the weapons lab. The explosion must have been engineered so that they could slip in without having to go through the doors and gather up the things that had been hidden away," Clint said excitably.

The series of events that clicked in to Steve's mind made him feel vaguely nauseated, because that would mean...

"And it would explain why your-"

"Thanks, Sharon. I owe you one." Steve quickly hung up on her and Clint was undeterred.

"- keycard was being used at SI. Jovan must have lifted it from you to throw suspicion off himself. Steve, he had to be the one that was putting the research aside. It makes sense, he must have been in league with Obadiah." Clint looked pleased, and Steve's phone rang again.

"I already said thank you," Steve answered the phone irritably, hitting the button to put it on speakerphone again.

"I wasn't finished, Captain," Sharon said acerbically. Steve frowned at her tone. "I managed to get a friend, Jenna Carlisle, to rush those blood samples you managed to grab. We were lucky, his sample was already in CODIS, a man named Johann Schmidt, who was in there for an arrest for a violent crime, assault, over in California. He was recently taken off probation, and since then no one has heard anything from him."

"If Stark International keeps DNA profiles on their employees, you might be able to cross-reference it," Sharon said. When Clint brightened, Steve shook his head. He knew their drug testing was sent to a lab upstate and that the results returned only had the pertinent information, and the samples were destroyed once the tests were ran and confirmed.

"Is that it?" Steve asked.

"That's all I've got for now," Sharon replied, "I'm going to keep looking for this Shmidt person, contact his parole officer and see if I can find anything out for you." Sharon sighed a little and Steve nodded a little.

"Thanks, Carter. I guess I owe you two." Steve smiled. "Call me when you find anything else out." He clicked his phone shut and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Then he dropped his hands into his lap and he gave Clint a look. Clint looked confused.

"Tony's meeting with Stane right now," Steve said. He'd spoken to Tony on the phone earlier, when he'd called to ask if their gear had come in. Steve's eyes went wide. "Suit up, he could be in danger." Steve grabbed his phone again and dialed Tony's number. It rang five times, and then clicked over to voice mail. Steve hung up and tried a few more times.

By the time he and Clint were ready to go, Steve was sure that Tony was in serious trouble.

* * *

Tony stared at the television with a frown on his face. The news was muted, but the shaky footage was more than telling of what was happening. And if it wasn't, the breaking news headline was more than enough information for Tony's gut to clench. "More Deaths Caused by Stark International's Weapons Testing". This was somewhere over in the Middle East... and judging by the pictures of the victims, Tony had a bad feeling about what the weapons "testing" actually was. All of the victims were soldiers and Afghani civilians. Someone must have been slipping a terrorist cell some weapons. He pinched the bridge of his nose, having a sinking suspicion that this related to the explosion in his weapons lab in New York. He hoped that The Captain and Hawkeye were making headway in their investigation... because Tony wasn't coming up with much.

Tony rubbed at the back of his neck in frustration and wondered what the hell was going on here. He knew someone had to have taken their prototypes and were setting them off, but he wasn't sure who would benefit. In the Middle East, though, it could easily be the people who had kidnapped him, or at least people involved in the same sect as before. He was sure that he'd gotten rid of all their weapons, but if someone here was stealing his weapons, they could just as easily be selling them. He shook his head and finished knotting his tie.

He smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket and did the buttons up, before he headed for the front room of the mansion, where he was going to greet Obadiah. He raked a hand through his hair, then tried to straighten it out, before he gave it up as a bad job. And it was just Obie, so he probably wouldn't be concerned. When Tony entered the foyer, Obie was standing there, wearing a smile. Tony smiled back, feeling a little more at ease. At least Obadiah wouldn't be judging him about everything that had been happening.

"Let me just grab my keys and we'll get out of here," Tony said, turning towards the mantle where his key ring was sitting in an ashtray. His fingers closed around them, he heard something that sounded slightly familiar, and all of a sudden he couldn't move. The high-pitched whine seemed to reverberate in his mind and his knees buckled. He crumpled to the ground. Tony could hear the words he wanted to form, but he couldn't seem to make his mouth work.

"Oh, Tony, wherever did we go wrong with you," Obadiah wondered. He used his toe to turn Tony over on to his back. Tony couldn't move, he could hear Obadiah talking, but he couldn't do anything about it even as Obadiah pulled the earplugs out, and knelt down next to where Tony was. All he could do was wonder why he'd left Happy in California and try to form words.

"Tony, Tony, Tony... your newfound pacifism has made you too soft, too trusting. You're not even seeing what's right there in front of you. And this-" Obadiah unknotted the tie from around Tony's neck and undid the buttons on his shirt. "- This could be something so much more than just clean energy. But you refuse to see it's full potential because you have become..." He paused, as though waiting for Tony to finish the sentence. He smiled grimly.

"Too soft, Tony," Obadiah chided again, "And so selfish." He tapped the screen on the reactor, then traced a finger along the outer edge of it. "You think that just because you have an idea, that it belongs to only you. Your father... he helped invent the atomic bomb, and where would we be if he had been as selfish as you?" Obadiah clucked his tongue and began to undo the catches on the reactor.

"Your old man wasn't selfish, Tony, but I can see how you would have come out as. You were never really disciplined, never really raised at all, and so here we are. And here you are." Obadiah released the last catch and then twisted the reactor, pulling it out of its casing. Tony's eyes went wide and his breathing stuttered. His fingers twitched slightly and... he wanted to speak.

"But now, we're going to give this for everyone to have, Tony. It's going to be the next great innovation, the next atom bomb, the newest wave of military technology. It looks like you climbing out of that cave was fate for me; the prodigal son, giving us one last great innovation." Obadiah pocketed the reactor and stood. He smiled that same, grim smile down at Tony.

"Goodbye, Tony," Obadiah said and he turned towards the door, "We won't be meeting again." Tony stayed still, didn't speak even though pride really wanted him to respond to that last parting shot. His heart felt erratic, and he couldn't think, he could barely breathe. The door shut behind Obadiah and god he wished he'd brought somebody with him.

He was wondering what people were going to say, the jokes they might make about the hole in his chest where his heart should be. And maybe he deserved this. God knew he hadn't done enough to atone for the sins he'd committed. He was about ready to give it all up, make peace with himself before he had to meet his maker. But he remembered.

Pepper. Pepper and her sentimentality, she'd sent him. With effort, he managed to roll up on to his knees, and he felt not unlike a newborn as he started to crawl across the floor. It was in the office, the downstairs office, he'd been using it. He'd not been entirely thrilled with the gift except now. It might just save his life. The carpet scraped at his hands and his feet dragged in the shag, as he couldn't quite move his knees well. He was dragging himself with his hands, standing up would be too much effort. He wasn't going to make it. Maybe he should...

But he had imagined himself as a superhero, when he'd built that metal monstrosity in the cave... and he'd gotten himself out and he'd defeated the bad guys, he had thought 'I could be a superhero'. Maybe even like the Captain. Superheroes didn't give up, they didn't quit, they fought and fought until they couldn't anymore. His fingertips were blue, his chest was aching so bad it was causing tears to gather in the corner of his eyes. He wasn't going to give up. Fight until he couldn't.

He got to the office and he clutched at the desk, tried to pull himself up to get to the box. He scrambled, but he barely had the strength, his breathing was shallowing, and he almost felt like he could feel the shrapnel digging in to his heart, a physical sensation. He swallowed against a lump in his throat and he didn't want to die. He knocked the box from the corner of the desk and the contents came spilling out. Encased in glass.

He'd never get it. There had to be a catch or a release or something. Tony's fingers were numb as he grabbed the base of it and ran them along the edges of the glass. If he could just... could just find where the seal was. His fingers caught at the upraised plastic at the base and there was no catch. He couldn't find the catch. His fingers caught on something and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He popped the case but his vision was swimming, his fingers fumbled for the reactor and he caught the edge of it, and his fingers curled and he dragged it to him. There was a sudden spike of pain and everything went white, then black.

When Tony came to, he could breathe again, and his heart didn't feel like someone was spearing shrapnel through it. His vision cleared and faces were above him. Both blonds, both wearing masks, and vaguely familiar outfits. Maybe this was Heaven? Or maybe Hell, and these guys were going to kill him.

"I cannot believe that actually worked," The one in purple and black said. Recognition set in. Hawkeye. And The Captain.

"Well, it was the perfect size, it's basic logic. Circle object in circle hole," The Captain huffed a little and he reached out to pet Tony's hair off from his brow. "We came here to tell you we think Obadiah Stane is trying to kill you... but I think you figured that out." Tony tried to laugh, but he didn't really feel like he could. He closed his eyes briefly.

"You..." Tony started, then struggled to catch his breath, "You saved me."

"Technically, you saved yourself," Hawkeye said, "We found you in here, but you had the... the thing, whatever it is, next to your chest anyways." Hawkeye nodded to the Captain and he nodded too. His hat slipped off when he did, and though he put it on rather quickly, the haircut looked really familiar to Tony. He couldn't think about it now.

"I think I know what he's after," Tony said, struggling to a sitting position, the Captain helped him and he nodded his thanks. "He has a... a building in California too. I should... I need a phone, I do." He got to his feet, leaning heavily on the desk.

"Pepper!" He said in to the phone, glad she answered, "I need you to do a big favor for me. I need you to see if you can find anything suspicious at Stane Industries. We think Obadiah might have something to do with all of this." He waved vaguely.

"Mr. Stark, you honestly can't expect me to break in to someone else's company and find information on them! I don't get paid for that."

"Pep, please, I need you to do this. It's the only way we can clear the company's name, and put Stane away. The man has gone crazy and he needs to be stopped. Pepper, please. I'm begging you." Pepper was silent for several long moments and then she sighed.

"Fine, boss, but you owe me." Pepper hung the phone up and Tony smiled at the Captain and Hawkeye. His eyes looked familiar too, Tony suddenly realized, looking at the cutouts in the mask that Jan had made. Tony grinned with the knowledge, but he'd tell him later.

"We're going to go after him," The Captain said and Tony nodded. "Call us when Pepper calls you." The Captain grabbed Hawkeye by the elbow and they ran out, leaving Tony to himself.

But Tony wasn't going to let this stand without fighting back. He could be a hero too. He had some things back at SI. He straightened out his shirt and then headed outside. It was time to be the hero he thought he could be.

* * *

The blueprints had provided Obadiah with enough of a schematic to build this weapon. Technically, Tony had built it. A sort of... more peaceful solution to conflict. A sonic gun which incapacitated instead of killed, though the testing that Obadiah had done had suggested it could do the latter if one was exposed to its effects long enough. Obadiah had had an even better idea than that.

Obadiah knew that one could rule the world through fear, or at least the closest one could get to ruling a non-globalized world. If he could get in to a position of power, it'd be even easier, and he knew just the way to do it. This weapon was going to be the next generation in warfare. The reactor could power it almost indefinitely, if Obadiah's calculations were right, and there wasn't a thing alive that could withstand the effects of it for too long.

Or really, anything that could withstand the effects at all.

It had been particularly effective at incapacitating Tony and that was with one brief little pulse of it. He had even already built the earmuffs that could proof against it, because he was certain of his calculations. This could be the next big thing and Stane Industries would be the powerhouse that Stark International once was. And Obadiah Stane could be the one to bring about the future of warfare.

If Howard could see him now. No longer in second place. Obadiah slotted the reactor in to the weapon he had built and watched as the power core was accepted, and the sides of the gun lit up to show that the charge was ready. Obadiah smiled and grabbed the phone. It was time to call the Secretary of Defense and show him the new technology that was soon going to be at his disposal.

He dialed the number for the Pentagon and stroked the side of the gun. Things were definitely going to look up for him now.

* * *

Steve and Clint arrived at Stane Industries in record time and likely broke several traffic rules while doing so, but they hadn't gotten hints of being pulled over, so there was that at least. Stane Industries was mostly dark, except for some lights on at the top floor and Steve frowned a little and pointed up to the top of the building. "He's probably there," Steve said.

Clint nodded his agreement and looked at the front doors and then at the windows again.

"We're going to have to go in through the front doors, aren't we?" Clint asked. Steve nodded and straightened his hat.

"There's going to be night watchmen and whoever else that... strange guy who shot you has with him," Steve said, loosening the straps on the shield that Tony had created for him. Clint gave a sidelong glance at the shield, but didn't say anything. Steve knew he wouldn't, it'd been pretty effective against the people they'd busted last night who'd been attempting to jack a car.

Clint adjusted his hat and un-shouldered his bow, nocking an arrow as he nodded to the fire escape. "We could climb up that way, and at least have the element of surprise for a bit," Clint said and Steve pursed his lips in thoughtful consideration. Steve paused and rubbed at the back of his neck and then eyed the fire escape once more. Quickly, he went through the varying tactics in his head.

If they went for the fire escape, there was a chance they could get caught climbing, the elevators were as good as a death sentence if Stane cut power to them between floors. And running up flights of stairs, while fighting a retreating battle probably wouldn't be the safest option. Steve worried his lower lip for just a moment and then nodded to Clint in agreement.

"You're right, the fire escape is probably the best bet," Steve said and he started towards it, "But if they notice us, we're going to be fighting one hell of an inconvenient battle." Clint laughed from behind him, though there was nervousness edging it, not that Steve could blame Clint in the slightest.

"After you," Clint offered, gesturing for Steve to go first. Steve wanted to make a comment about it, but he was a soldier at heart, and he'd never have someone in his unit go first in such an uncertain and dangerous situation. He tightened the straps on his shield once more, but withdrew the dart gun that Tony had provided them with. He wasn't a fan of guns, in general, but there was a fast-acting sedative on the tip of the darts that would decommission thugs they came across without expending much energy.

The fire escape was rusted with disuse and it creaked and swayed some as they scaled it. But in spite of that, they didn't seem to garner attention from anyone inside, which was a plus. It gave them time to get inside and set up an appropriate plan of action. Steve was tired by the time they reached the top, the slow climb having caused a burn in his muscles; it was something that adrenaline would get rid of soon enough. This situation was now or never, Steve wasn't going to back down, and despite the labored breathing from behind him, Steve was sure that Clint wasn't going to give up on him either.

In his pocket, Steve's phone vibrated, and he answered it by tapping the Bluetooth receiver in his ear. Another gift from Tony for their crime fighting and the phone was one only Tony and Clint had the number for, so there was little mystery as to who it was.

"It was a little difficult to get past their security measures," Tony's voice came in through his ear, "But I was able to get in and I'm pulling up the video feeds from my office." Steve had to smile at that and he held up a fist to Clint, signifying for him to hold his position.

"The picture isn't too great, these things are closed circuit-ish, old black and white, nineteen-eighties security protocols," Tony actually sounded annoyed and Steve understood why; but if the feeds were bad, then it was likely that they had a bit more time to set their attack up. Tony was quiet for a few seconds, breathing in to the receiver, the click of a keyboard audible over the line- Steve guessed he was on speakerphone.

"Be careful of that weapon Stane has, it's what he used to incapacitate me earlier; they're on the top floor in the executive officer. There are guards patrolling, but I think you have about two minutes to get back on the stairwell before they come round."

Steve held two fingers up, pressed together, and waved Clint through the stairwell door. It was a service access, for when the elevators were out, and it smelled musty and unused. Steve followed Clint up the stairs. He took the lead once they got through the door, however, and headed toward the main office. They were confronted, however, before they could get too far.

Clint fired rapidly and Steve did too. But they'd not been practicing nearly enough, and the arrow and the dart struck the same person, hitting him in the knee for a disabling shot, then the sedative pumping through him. He cried out in pain and raised the alarm. The sound was shrill, like a siren, and interrupted by the smell of cordite and the whip-crack of gunfire. The bullets sprayed in front of them, successive shots, though he wasn't a great shot. The first one grazed Steve's arm, the second missed Clint by millimeters, and Steve was able to guard them from the rest by throwing his shield up in front of them.

After the sounds of shots faded, Steve threw the shield and watched as it ricocheted and caught the man in the ribs. There was a sickening crunch and he crumpled. Steve grabbed the shield as he stepped over the two men, and a group of four surged in front of them, while Stane and Red Skull slipped from the office and headed for the roof access.

"Damnit!" Clint shouted and he fired after Stane and the Skull. The arrows missed their mark, one catching in the plaster of the wall, the other clattering uselessly against the heavy metal door. Steve frowned a little and rushed the first thug, slamming his shield in to the man's gut. Clint had another arrow at the ready and the bowstring twanged as they whizzed by. More bullets and Steve felt one graze his ear, more burn than anything else. Steve barely spared it a second thought.

The next blow of his shield hit a guard in the face, another crack of a bone, and he thumped to the ground and Steve leapt over him and headed for the roof. Clint wasn't far behind him, he could hear the sound of his footfalls behind him.

"Don't go up there!" Tony all but shouted at him through the earpiece. "I can't... Damnit, get back in the building!" Tony sounded frightened, but Steve ignored him, reached up to end the call so Tony couldn't distract him.

"This ends now," Steve said as he went through the door that led to the roof. There was some sort of tower atop... a cell tower or a radio tower. Stane was standing beneath it, stroking the weapon Steve had been warned about, the sides in it pulsing blue. Steve looked between Stane and Red Skull, while Stane laughed, the noise almost swallowed by the noise on the roof. Traffic was a distant background noise, but the wind was whistling up here. Steve squared his shoulders.

"You're right, Captain," Stane said as a smile spread over his face, "This does end now. But not for me, oh no, this is going to be the end of you. The end of Stark International. The end of this pacifism which is Tony Stark's newest fad." Steve's eyes narrowed. He had been a soldier, sure. But he wasn't one for war-mongering.

The roof door slammed open again and Steve turned partially, to see who it was. He wasn't surprised to see that it was Tony, though the thought of him here right now made something sick well up in him. What in the hell was Tony doing here anyways?

"Of course you want an end to the pacifism," Tony said, his voice a little rough as he shouted, "You're nothing but a war profiteer. I know it was you." Stane smirked a little, still stroking his weapon. There was something faint blue glowing in Tony's ear, Steve noticed, but he assumed it was the Bluetooth connection.

"I know what you did," Tony continued, his voice dripping... Steve had thought it would be contempt, but it sounded much nearer to hurt, "I guess you couldn't handle always coming in second, you had to wipe out the competition. I was done, Stane! You got what you wanted, I stopped producing weapons, so why this? Why does it have to come to this?"

Tony's voice was almost pleading, Steve wasn't sure why. Stane was just a business rival, though he had gone a bit far.

"You yelled at me for being selfish, but what about you? I know you sold weapons, my weapons, to those terrorists groups. Was it because I wouldn't sell you my company? My father built SI in to what it was, it had nothing to do with you, so why do you feel you deserve it?"

"As usual, Tony, you don't understand. You're a genius when it comes to inventing, but you never really quite got the rest. You're content with what you have, because you've been given everything you have. I want more and getting you out of the way, completely, is the only way to ensure that." Steve frowned as Red Skull stepped nearer to the three of them. Clint had an arrow ready and Steve was holding on to his shield, but Tony seemed weaponless. Red Skull raised his gun and both Steve and Clint acted.

Clint fired the arrow but Red Skull's reaction time was fast and he dodged out of the way. He got a shot off, but it went way wide, ricocheting off of the base of the tower. Steve had gone for Tony, positioning himself with his shield to deflect the blows from Tony.

"What're you doing here?" Steve hissed and Tony frowned at him.

"I came to help," Tony said peevishly, "You could at least be grateful."

"You're going to get yourself killed," Steve snapped, "You're not ev-" Steve cut off when something like a shrill whine reverberated in his ears. His fingers went numb and he dropped the shield, then dropped to his knees as he covered his ears. His vision went strange and his equilibrium left him. He didn't really notice what was happening for a few moments of agony and when his vision cleared, he noticed that Tony was crouching beside him, face screwed up like he was in pain, but there was something about it that led Steve to believe that Tony was faking it.

He had two identical blue glowing things in his hands, they were small- just large enough to fit in Steve's ears and Tony fit them in. "They should counteract Stane's weapon, at least at this frequency, keep him distracted, I have to go help Clint." Tony stood and darted across the roof and Steve chanced a look over there. Clint was laid out by the weapon as well, but Red Skull was fast approaching, his guns drawn and that same grimace on his face- permanent- it wasn't like a skull could do anything but grin.

"Oh, it looks like I'll have to up the ante," Stane said from beside him and he clicked something on the weapon, and when he fired it next, the tower trembled, and Steve felt a wave of vertigo, though he didn't fall this time. He grabbed his shield again with slightly clumsy movements and threw it at Obadiah. It went wide, hit the tower, and the ricochet hit Stane in the back of the knee.

He fell forward, but he didn't let go of his weapon and he fired it again. Clint cried out in agony, a shriek to go along with the almost imperceptible whine of Stane's device. Clint went somewhat rigid, blood trickling from his nose, and Steve rushed Stane. He heard a gunshot, but he didn't bother to look and see what had happened... he needed to disarm Stane.

Stane didn't dodge Steve, so much as aim his weapon at the tower and let that do the dodging for him. A girder crashed down and halted Steve's progress, the edge of it ripping his pants, causing a shallow cut down his thigh. Blood sprang from it and he heard another gunshot. This time, he allowed himself to be distracted and he turned to see what was happening.

Clint's ears were glowing and he was struggling to his feet; Tony and Red Skull were wrestling for the gun, the shots going wild as Tony struggled for the dominant position. The break in concentration cost him though and he barely managed to dodge out of the way of the next falling girder. It slammed down on his foot, managing to avoid breaking it, but there'd be a bruise.

Another gunshot, but Steve re-focused on his target, disarming Stane. He leapt over the fallen girder and attempted a sort of leap attack, scaling the radio tower as quickly as he could with his shield held in one hand. There was a twang of a bow string and Red Skull howled, the gun fired again, but Steve didn't pay attention.

The next blast of Stane's gun caused him to drop his shield again and lose his grip on the tower, he hadn't gotten far up, but he hit his head on the way down, and he crawled up on his knees, dizzied with the blow to his head. Steve panted quietly.

"Captain!" He heard Tony call his name distantly and he heard the rumble of the tower again with the blast of the gun. Steve hauled himself to his feet and rushed again, he managed to hit the weapon out of Stane's hand and it skittered to the edge of the roof. The girder came shrieking down as it hit others on the way down. Steve tried to move, but the edge of it caught him, cutting through his jacket and his shirt, deep enough to where he let out a pained cry.

He dropped back down to his knees, tears stinging at his eyes, and for several long moments there was nothing but fire, then the warm, damp of blood and the smell of copper hit him. He could see it drip to the floor, but he had to keep fighting- he had to get that damn weapon before Stane did.

"Johann!" Stane called out and Red Skull disengaged from Clint and sprinted towards the weapon. Tony was heading for Steve and Steve shook his head a little, and dragged himself to his feet. It wasn't easy to jump, with the way his vision swam, but he did, and the exertion caused his blood to pump faster, but well.

Who knew how many lives Stane intended to destroy... his own wasn't so large a price to pay to prevent that. He reached the weapon almost the same time Red Skull did, his fingers brushed the gun, but it was taken away from him and Red Skull crowed triumphantly. He flipped a switch on the side and his eyes gleamed with excitement.

"And now, the end," Red Skull announced. His finger depressed the trigger and Tony screamed and Steve's vision was going red around the edges. He couldn't hear anything over the sound of Tony's screaming, but suddenly it stopped and the silence was replaced quickly by Red Skull howling, getting further away. Clint's nose was still bleeding and he was on his knees, but he must have shot Red Skull, and he must have fallen to his death, since the cry stopped.

"Get Stane!" Tony said hoarsely from behind him and Steve was suddenly aware of a presence above him, he couldn't see too great, but he recognized Tony's hands when they pressed against his forehead. Steve swallowed and tried to find words. He wasn't... he wasn't very good at this, all one had to do was ask Sharon to know...

"Tony, I..." Steve started, but Tony put a finger to his lips. He felt dizzy, he was losing a lot of blood.

"Don't worry, Steve," Tony whispered to him, stroking his hair off his forehead, "You're going to be just fine." Tony turned away from him and Steve was pretty sure he wasn't going to be fine, he was losing so much blood, and he felt so cold.

"You know my name..." Steve said and Tony turned back to him, laid his fingers against his neck, and his other fingers against his lips. Steve knew his pulse was slowing, breathing shallowing, and he closed his eyes again.

"Shh, it's okay," Tony soothed. He turned away again. "Hawkeye, we need to go now. Let the cops handle Stane."

* * *