Fanfic: What We Could Become | 4 of 4
Sep. 7th, 2011 02:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blastellanosTitle: What We Could Become
Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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]
Dr. Stephen Strange's familiar candy apple red Lexus was still parked in the driveway, so Tony assumed that the good doctor was still home. Which was just as well, since while he had figured out who Steve was, they didn't need the whole staff at Mercy Hospital to do so. But Strange was an old friend and Tony was certain that he'd not mind helping them out. And he'd certainly be able to keep quiet when it came to Steve's identity.
Tony rang the doorbell insistently and watched as Clint tried to stop the bleeding with his fingers, though it was still dripping cherry red all over Stephen's white porch. He'd pay to get it cleaned. Stephen answered the door, dressed in a nicely pressed pair of suit pants and an open dress shirt, tie slung over his shoulders. His brow furrowed. Tony was holding Steve up, he could barely walk on his own.
"Tony?" Stephen sounded genuinely confused, though his eyes dropped down to where Steve was dripping all over his porch. He groaned in frustration but he stepped aside. "That's the Captain?" Stephen asked, but his awed voice suggested he already knew as such. Tony smiled and led Steve in, Clint following close behind.
"Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but we need some help," Tony said apologetically. "We were in a pretty bad fight, but he took most of the damage and we were hoping you could look at him. And, you know, not tell everyone his identity." Clint removed Steve's hat and mask and then started to pull the jacket off of him carefully.
"Of course," Stephen said quickly, "As you know, I'm always willing to lend a hand, though..." Stephen trailed off and stroked his goatee. Tony frowned at him.
"I'm a neurosurgeon now, Tony, I haven't done this sort of work in years," Stephen protested and Tony scoffed.
"I'm sure it's just like riding a bike. Stephen, come on, it's me. And he really needs your help." Tony gestured to Steve. The wound was bad, but it was only the first of many, and the thing that needed the most priority of Strange fixing it up. It was a debris wound, something crumbled; the wound was vivid purple around a deep gash that went from shoulder to elbow.
It wasn't very deep, at least not in Tony's estimation, but it'd definitely need some healing time and stitches and hopefully, that was all. Stephen studied the wound for a few moments and sighed heavily. "This man should be in a hospital, Tony," Stephen chided, but he grabbed his doctor's bag anyways and began to clean the wound with antiseptic.
It took the better part of the rest of the day for Stephen to get them fixed up, he even called off of work to do it, though he scolded Tony the entire time and said that he would be billing them for this. Especially when Stephen had to go through some illegal channels in order to procure blood to replenish the amount that Steve had lost. Tony thought it was a small price to pay, overall. In addition to Steve's stitches, there were ribs to be taped, sprains to be wrapped, and pain pills to be prescribed. As well as other cuts and wounds to be treated.
Stephen kicked them all out as soon as he was done and told Steve to come back in a few weeks so that he could look at the stitches. Clint was in a sling with a heavily sprained wrist, and Tony had to have an ankle wrapped, though with the swelling, Stephen had suggested x-rays. Tony would do it later.
"Let's go home," Tony said to Steve and he nodded.
"To the Captain Cave," Steve announced dryly, still sounding incredibly weak. Tony had Steve's keys and he slid in to the driver's seat of the navy blue Aztek that Steve had insisted on keeping.
"I told you not to call it that," Clint said with a frown. "And pharmacy first, then home."
* * *
The prison guard buzzed Red Skull in, who was wearing a well designed mask to cover the exact nature of his face. He signed in as Jovan Shani and was there to see Obadiah Stane. The man was in prison, after all, and Red Skull did feel as though he owed the man something. Besides, with Ezekial Enterprises a subsidiary and not exactly listed under Obadiah Stane's assets, Red Skull also knew there was still money in it for him.
After all, he knew that Stane was well prepared to make sure Stark, as well as his hero companions, paid for the things that had happened to Stane. On all the news networks, the story was breaking. The illegal weapons deals, the thieving, the real reasons Stark International technology had been being set off... and all of it was pointing to Obadiah Stane as the culprit. Stane's original grudge, which had been a petty complaint about being second best, was now trumped by a very real reason to hate Stark.
And Red Skull had a reason to hate Stark too... and it began with this mask and what lay beneath it. Orange was not Obadiah's color, the Skull noted, he slid in to the hard metal chair and picked up the plastic phone and nodded to Obadiah. The man paid well, so Red Skull wasn't going to judge him too harshly. After all, he could pretend to be sympathetic as well. Obadiah glanced to the guard, who nodded, and then turned a blind eye. Where it was true that not everyone had a price, there was a good reason why bribery worked... most people did.
"I want his head, Shmidt," Obadiah hissed in to the phone. "I will pay you handsomely, just bring me word that Stark has met his unfortunate end." Red Skull nodded a little and if he could smile, he would have. That was a good enough reason to kill Stark, the fact he couldn't. And The Captain for taking Stark's side, though he was just as much a villain. Like before, Hawkeye was just collateral damage. He would pay for the price of the company he kept, however.
"Do not worry, Mr. Stane, I'm sure I can deliver what you ask for," Red Skull assured him. "I have never failed you before." There wasn't much more to be said and so Red Skull bid his goodbyes and received a message from his bank that he'd already received half of the money transfer that would ensure his adherence to killing those victims for the rest of the money.
On his way out, Red Skull received a call, from a curious man named Mandarin, whose English was heavily accented, who requested that he meet him in a secret location later that evening. Red Skull was cautious, but curious, and he agreed.
It was dark outside when Red Skull arrived, the address having led him to the harbor, amid freight containers that were rusting and stacked high... almost making a labyrinth out of the dock. The man who met him there had long dark hair, flowing green robes, and his fingers were adorned with many rings, glittering on each finger.
He was holding a manila folder and he handed it over to Red Skull. There wasn't much inside, just a sketched, unfinished drawing of some sort of battle suit, Stark's initials in the corner of the page. Red Skull thought he recognized one of the men with him, but couldn't place it, so he pushed it out of his mind.
"Mr. Shmidt," The man said, his tone formal, "My associate Mr. Stane said that he had quite the success with your exploits and I was wondering if I might hire you for something."
"Who are you?" Red Skull asked, suspicious by necessity, this could be a trap.
"As I told you on the phone, I am the Mandarin. I am the leader of an organization called the Ten Rings." The Mandarin wiggled his fingers, and the rings glinted dully in the dim light. Red Skull nodded a little and gestured for him to go on.
"These designs, they are simply called Mark Two. They are new designs by Tony Stark and I believe they may be a weapon he is intending to roll out soon. I wanted him to build me a weapon and he failed to do so, so now I wish to take the one he is building now." Mandarin gestured to the folder that Red Skull was holding. "To that end, I will pay you a sum of one million American dollars if you were to retrieve the complete designs of this for me."
He was going to kill Stark anyways. He might as well make as much on the deal as he could. Red Skull nodded in agreement and studied the sketch once more.
"Of course, I require half of it up front," Red Skull said, his tone not leaving room for negotiation. Mandarin was thoughtful for several long moments, frowning, but then he nodded as well.
"Because Mr. Stane speaks so highly of you, I will concede to your terms. I would like these designs as soon as possible. Do not disappoint me, Mr. Shmidt," Mandarin said. Red Skull closed the folder and handed it back.
"I won't."
* * *
It was close to four in the morning when Steve came in from his nightly patrol. He couldn't do as much as he wanted to. The stitches had been removed, but the pain that jolted through his arm from time to time when he pulled the freshly scarred skin could sometimes bring him to tears. But he was also a strong believer in active recoveries. One didn't take a break from weight lifting if their muscles burned the next day, they just kept making them stronger. Steve had learned early on that being injured didn't necessarily mean one was exempt from working. There was a purpose to The Captain, one he didn't feel compelled to just let fall to the wayside, and as soon as his stitches had come out, he'd come back out on the streets to continue protecting the people he had chosen to protect.
He skipped out on pain medications so he was level-headed out on the streets. He didn't like taking them in general because of the way that they fuzzed up his mind and made it difficult to wake in the morning, or concentrate on his day job... where the pills had blurred his mind out to where he'd stare at a design for hours without making any progress on it. He needed them less and less, in the months that had followed the initial injury, but after a patrol like tonight he definitely needed them.
He rustled around in the kitchen and took the pain pills with a glass of milk and leaned against the counter while he waited for them to kick in. He closed his eyes a little and considered a hot shower to get rid of some of the lingering aches, to relax him more before the pills began to work. He glanced at the clock on the microwave; he had chosen to work a late shift tomorrow, so he wouldn't need to wake for another ten hours at least. If he showered now, he could sleep even later.
He heard the door open and then close and he slit his eyes open, though he was unworried. Clint had decided to stay out and patrol the perimeter once more before coming home and he pushed off from the counter. "I'm going-" He started to say, but stopped when he saw it was Tony in the entryway. He was in a pair of torn jeans and a grease stained ribbed tank-top with holes cut out for the reactor. He was lighting up the hall all by himself- reactor and blazing amber eyes and bright smile.
"I want to show you something," Tony told him, linking his fingers around Steve's wrist and leading him outside to the car. The drive to Stark International didn't take long, and Steve followed Tony down corridors he'd never been, to an elevator he'd never seen, with buttons to sublevels that weren't on other elevators he'd been in to. Down below, Sub Level 2 according to the elevator, opened up in to a bleak grey building with computers and glass containers lining the walls.
They walked down a small set of stairs that led to a lower level in the room.
"My father put this in during the Cold War," Tony explained, turning to look at Steve for a moment, "And I repurposed it, when I initially came to New York in order to deal with..." He waved a hand vaguely, as though to indicate everything that had happened since he'd come here. Steve thought that was an apt way to sum it all up, really, and his arm ached just from the thought of it. Tony kept hold of Steve's wrist and led him over to the only filled glass case, which housed a gleaming red and gold... robot?
"You built a robot in a secret underground lab?" Steve sounded honestly confused. Tony's annoyed huff was familiar to Steve by now, though in this case, Steve wasn't sure it was technically appropriate. "You know, Dr. Ivo, I don't have any superpowers, so you might have wanted to grab The Human Torch, instead." Tony gave him a bewildered look.
"Never mind," Steve said, shaking his head. Tony frowned at him.
"It isn't a robot," Tony finally said, "It's the Iron Man. I built a very primitive version of it to escape from captivity. When I got back, and people started stealing my weapons designs, I put it away in a vault. Now that we've fixed that problem, I started back up on it and ran it through a few tests and... it's complete." Tony beamed and Steve looked between the suit and Tony.
"I want to be a hero, like you and Clint. This way, we can all work together, and I'll be able to help," Tony explained. Steve had been worried about Tony fighting with them (though trying to forbid it had gone over like a lead balloon) when he'd been armored the same way he and Clint were, using similar weaponry. It hadn't seemed right. But this...
"I know this sort of thing wouldn't fit either of your guys' fighting styles, so I didn't make one for you but for me, this is how I can help." Tony looked steadily at Steve and Steve continued to look between Tony and the armor and back again.
"Tony," Steve started but Tony waved his hands and interrupted.
"I can fly, okay, I'm like Superman. Except my laser beams come from my hands and not my eyes. And technically they're not laser beams, rather a deviation from Newtonian physics-"
"You can fly," Steve interrupted, his tone flat. Tony nodded eagerly. Steve looked between Tony and the suit once more.
"I can't tell you no. And at least this seems safer." Steve held a hand out to Tony and gave him a small smile. Tony blinked and took his hand. "Welcome to the team." Steve grinned and then let go, pulling Tony in to a hug.
"I feel better if I can be out there protecting you," Tony said quietly, his voice muffled in to Steve's shoulder. "I can make a difference this way. I can make up for... try to make up for... everything." He shook his head against Steve and Steve frowned a little and patted at him soothingly.
"I know I can't make up for everything-"
"Shh, Tony, it's okay," Steve interrupted and curled his fingers in to the hairs at the nape of Tony's neck. Tony shook his head a little again, but he stopped speaking, and he wasn't shaking anymore. Steve rubbed his other hand down the line of his spine, over the cloth of the tank top.
"I promise we'll do good this way," Tony started up again, once he pulled away. "I promise."
Steve wished he knew how to comfort Tony more than he was doing right now. But Tony was more difficult to read than other people were, so he wasn't entirely sure how to go about it. He had seemed to settle a little more, which was certainly a plus, as far as everything went. Steve kept stroking at Tony's back and he laced their fingers together, leading Tony towards the stairs.
"Yeah, Tony," Steve agreed as they headed upstairs, Steve pushing Tony ahead of him, "We'll do good this way." Steve smiled and reached out to stop Tony. With Tony on the step higher than Steve was, their heights almost evened out, so Steve only had to arch his neck a little to kiss Tony. Tony looked a little surprised at the act, but Steve just pulled him a little closer, fingers curling in to the tank top he was wearing. Tony pulled back after several moments, eyes bright like he'd just been offered the entire candy store. He hurried Steve up the remainder of the stairs and in to the elevator.
He was introduced to a penthouse he'd never been to either, where Tony apparently had been staying, and more importantly, to the bedroom there.
Steve woke up late, but Tony wore his Iron Man suit when they went to pick Clint up the following afternoon. Steve got in to his costume and they forced Clint in to his own as well. Introductions were made, thought not really, it was only Tony letting Clint know who he was, to prevent any sort of secrecy becoming a problem between the three of them. They were going to be a team now.
"We're going to need a name," Steve pointed out as he affixed his mask and Iron Man drummed his metal fingers on the tabletop.
"Iron Man and his two sidekicks?" He suggested innocently. Clint snorted and Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head emphatically, almost immediately. He was sure Iron Man was pouting behind the faceplate, though if he was, he made no real outward indication of it.
"How about the Terrific Trio?" Clint asked and Steve huffed a little more and Iron Man's laughter echoed metallically behind the faceplate.
"Right, because we won't immediately be called rip-offs, as far as nomenclature goes, since the Fantastic Four has been active recently," Tony pointed out. Steve shook his head.
"Let's not rush in to this impulsively," Steve cautioned, "We have time to think of some things, we should get used to being a team before we rush in to naming it. Not that I don't think we'll work out, just getting to know how we work together might breed some creativity."
"Look at who is Mr. Rational over here," Clint said, rolling his eyes, and Tony laughed again.
"I want to show you guys something," Tony said after a moment. He took them to the old Stark Mansion, a large brownstone building that had been repurposed in to one large family home.
"I figured this could be our new headquarters," Iron Man said, his voice modulated through the helmet in a way that annoyed Steve. Clint and him already knew who was in the suit, so he saw no reason for there to be secrecy when they were in their own base. He could have at least put the helmet up. "I put an armor lab in, training rooms, bed rooms, and enough places to where we can expand our roster if we need to. I've been working on it since that fight against... Stane."
"Why are you wearing your helmet?" Steve asked, irritability creeping in to his tone. Clint stifled laughter behind his hand, and Steve resisted the urge to glare at him.
"Same reason you're still wearing your cloth mask... I just like being my alter ego. Besides, the helmet is cool." Tony popped the faceplate up and then linked his gauntleted hand with Steve's. Steve frowned at him, but he really couldn't stay mad when Tony was being sweet. He curled his fingers with Iron Man's and looked around the new hideout.
"It's certainly better than using Clint's apartment," Steve said after a moment, "And a training room will be nice for when we want to practice our tactics." Steve nodded in approval and Clint sighed a little, sinking down in to one of the plush chairs situated in front of a fireplace.
"I'm still working out all the kinks, but I did install JARVIS in here, so it won't be as bad as it otherwise would have been." Tony sat down on the couch and it creaked under the weight of the armor. Steve let go of Iron Man's hand and wisely chose to sit in a different chair, watching the way the couch bowed under Tony's not-insignificant weight.
From there, it was business as usual... sort of. Tony moved the headquarters of Stark International back to New York and had Pepper and Happy flown in to resume their duties as usual. The news reports had officially cleared Stark International's involvement in the weapons testing that had claimed innocent lives, though Tony was still paying compensation to the families, as an act of good will. Steve was worried, of course, that Red Skull's body had never been recovered, but the weapon had been undamaged, when they'd gone back to grab it after finishing up at Strange's house. The Captain, Iron Man, and Hawkeye were more in the public eye... assisting the Fantastic Four on one occasion, but mainly dealing with their own, more urban issues.
A particularly well-televised fight garnered more attention than normal, a band of thugs calling themselves the Wrecking Crew had begun to cause problems. They'd tangled with them once or twice before but a huge fight broke out on the docks, which had caused significant damage to them. Tony had covered the costs, though the shareholders hadn't been entirely happy about it.
A quiet evening in, several weeks after that fight, was just what the doctor ordered. Steve was doing world's better and things with Tony had settled in to a rather comfortable sort of rhythm. Clint pretended not to notice and Tony seemed reticent to make a real commitment; but then, Tony wasn't being exposed in news articles about his newest fling all the time either... so Steve took victories where he could get them. Not out, but exclusive, and for now, Steve could live with that.
"I'm thinking about making some changes to the mansion," Tony announced as he joined Clint and Steve in the living room.
"I think the first thing I'd do is upgrade your security system," A voice from behind them said. Steve turned quickly and a man wearing all black, a long leather trench coat, and an eyepatch strolled in to the room. His head was shaved and there were just the faintest traces of a scar above and below the patch. "I'm Colonel Nick Fury. I'm the Director of a group called S.H.I.E.L.D."
"I've never heard of a group called that," Clint interrupted, but Steve nodded.
"I have," Steve said, he hadn't been a member, but he'd worked with a few of them when he'd returned from Afghanistan, before his tour of duty had officially ended. "They work for the government." Steve clarified, since he was sure Colonel Fury's cloak and dagger presence was putting Clint on edge. Probably Tony too.
"Me too," Tony said cheerfully, "They debriefed me when I returned from Afghanistan." He waggled his brows suggestively and Steve shook his head at him while Clint rolled his eyes. Fury chuckled, but it was a little... fake. Fury strolled forward, not making a sound as he stepped across the carpet.
"Saw your work on the docks," Fury said, "And we thought that it might be time for you three to step up your game a little." Fury nodded to them. Steve tilted his head to the side in confusion and stepped in front of Tony and Clint, he was generally the voice of the team, as far as news segments and such went anyways.
"I want to talk to you three about the Avenger Initiative," Fury said and he pulled a folder out from the inner pockets of his jacket. Tony Steve was intrigued and he moved forward to take the folder and Fury made a face that could have been a smile... or a grimace.
The cover page was simple enough. Avenger Initiative; Superhero Defense Force. Steve closed the folder and smiled at Fury.
"Well, Colonel, I think we'd be very interested in what you have to say."
Artist:
dangwhymeAuthor:
dinahqueenRating (both art/fic): R[fic]/G[art]
Universe: Iron Man movie-verse AU
Word Count: 26,050
Warnings: Violence, implied sexual content
Beta:
shariangelArt 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]
Dr. Stephen Strange's familiar candy apple red Lexus was still parked in the driveway, so Tony assumed that the good doctor was still home. Which was just as well, since while he had figured out who Steve was, they didn't need the whole staff at Mercy Hospital to do so. But Strange was an old friend and Tony was certain that he'd not mind helping them out. And he'd certainly be able to keep quiet when it came to Steve's identity.
Tony rang the doorbell insistently and watched as Clint tried to stop the bleeding with his fingers, though it was still dripping cherry red all over Stephen's white porch. He'd pay to get it cleaned. Stephen answered the door, dressed in a nicely pressed pair of suit pants and an open dress shirt, tie slung over his shoulders. His brow furrowed. Tony was holding Steve up, he could barely walk on his own.
"Tony?" Stephen sounded genuinely confused, though his eyes dropped down to where Steve was dripping all over his porch. He groaned in frustration but he stepped aside. "That's the Captain?" Stephen asked, but his awed voice suggested he already knew as such. Tony smiled and led Steve in, Clint following close behind.
"Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but we need some help," Tony said apologetically. "We were in a pretty bad fight, but he took most of the damage and we were hoping you could look at him. And, you know, not tell everyone his identity." Clint removed Steve's hat and mask and then started to pull the jacket off of him carefully.
"Of course," Stephen said quickly, "As you know, I'm always willing to lend a hand, though..." Stephen trailed off and stroked his goatee. Tony frowned at him.
"I'm a neurosurgeon now, Tony, I haven't done this sort of work in years," Stephen protested and Tony scoffed.
"I'm sure it's just like riding a bike. Stephen, come on, it's me. And he really needs your help." Tony gestured to Steve. The wound was bad, but it was only the first of many, and the thing that needed the most priority of Strange fixing it up. It was a debris wound, something crumbled; the wound was vivid purple around a deep gash that went from shoulder to elbow.
It wasn't very deep, at least not in Tony's estimation, but it'd definitely need some healing time and stitches and hopefully, that was all. Stephen studied the wound for a few moments and sighed heavily. "This man should be in a hospital, Tony," Stephen chided, but he grabbed his doctor's bag anyways and began to clean the wound with antiseptic.
It took the better part of the rest of the day for Stephen to get them fixed up, he even called off of work to do it, though he scolded Tony the entire time and said that he would be billing them for this. Especially when Stephen had to go through some illegal channels in order to procure blood to replenish the amount that Steve had lost. Tony thought it was a small price to pay, overall. In addition to Steve's stitches, there were ribs to be taped, sprains to be wrapped, and pain pills to be prescribed. As well as other cuts and wounds to be treated.
Stephen kicked them all out as soon as he was done and told Steve to come back in a few weeks so that he could look at the stitches. Clint was in a sling with a heavily sprained wrist, and Tony had to have an ankle wrapped, though with the swelling, Stephen had suggested x-rays. Tony would do it later.
"Let's go home," Tony said to Steve and he nodded.
"To the Captain Cave," Steve announced dryly, still sounding incredibly weak. Tony had Steve's keys and he slid in to the driver's seat of the navy blue Aztek that Steve had insisted on keeping.
"I told you not to call it that," Clint said with a frown. "And pharmacy first, then home."
* * *
The prison guard buzzed Red Skull in, who was wearing a well designed mask to cover the exact nature of his face. He signed in as Jovan Shani and was there to see Obadiah Stane. The man was in prison, after all, and Red Skull did feel as though he owed the man something. Besides, with Ezekial Enterprises a subsidiary and not exactly listed under Obadiah Stane's assets, Red Skull also knew there was still money in it for him.
After all, he knew that Stane was well prepared to make sure Stark, as well as his hero companions, paid for the things that had happened to Stane. On all the news networks, the story was breaking. The illegal weapons deals, the thieving, the real reasons Stark International technology had been being set off... and all of it was pointing to Obadiah Stane as the culprit. Stane's original grudge, which had been a petty complaint about being second best, was now trumped by a very real reason to hate Stark.
And Red Skull had a reason to hate Stark too... and it began with this mask and what lay beneath it. Orange was not Obadiah's color, the Skull noted, he slid in to the hard metal chair and picked up the plastic phone and nodded to Obadiah. The man paid well, so Red Skull wasn't going to judge him too harshly. After all, he could pretend to be sympathetic as well. Obadiah glanced to the guard, who nodded, and then turned a blind eye. Where it was true that not everyone had a price, there was a good reason why bribery worked... most people did.
"I want his head, Shmidt," Obadiah hissed in to the phone. "I will pay you handsomely, just bring me word that Stark has met his unfortunate end." Red Skull nodded a little and if he could smile, he would have. That was a good enough reason to kill Stark, the fact he couldn't. And The Captain for taking Stark's side, though he was just as much a villain. Like before, Hawkeye was just collateral damage. He would pay for the price of the company he kept, however.
"Do not worry, Mr. Stane, I'm sure I can deliver what you ask for," Red Skull assured him. "I have never failed you before." There wasn't much more to be said and so Red Skull bid his goodbyes and received a message from his bank that he'd already received half of the money transfer that would ensure his adherence to killing those victims for the rest of the money.
On his way out, Red Skull received a call, from a curious man named Mandarin, whose English was heavily accented, who requested that he meet him in a secret location later that evening. Red Skull was cautious, but curious, and he agreed.
It was dark outside when Red Skull arrived, the address having led him to the harbor, amid freight containers that were rusting and stacked high... almost making a labyrinth out of the dock. The man who met him there had long dark hair, flowing green robes, and his fingers were adorned with many rings, glittering on each finger.
He was holding a manila folder and he handed it over to Red Skull. There wasn't much inside, just a sketched, unfinished drawing of some sort of battle suit, Stark's initials in the corner of the page. Red Skull thought he recognized one of the men with him, but couldn't place it, so he pushed it out of his mind.
"Mr. Shmidt," The man said, his tone formal, "My associate Mr. Stane said that he had quite the success with your exploits and I was wondering if I might hire you for something."
"Who are you?" Red Skull asked, suspicious by necessity, this could be a trap.
"As I told you on the phone, I am the Mandarin. I am the leader of an organization called the Ten Rings." The Mandarin wiggled his fingers, and the rings glinted dully in the dim light. Red Skull nodded a little and gestured for him to go on.
"These designs, they are simply called Mark Two. They are new designs by Tony Stark and I believe they may be a weapon he is intending to roll out soon. I wanted him to build me a weapon and he failed to do so, so now I wish to take the one he is building now." Mandarin gestured to the folder that Red Skull was holding. "To that end, I will pay you a sum of one million American dollars if you were to retrieve the complete designs of this for me."
He was going to kill Stark anyways. He might as well make as much on the deal as he could. Red Skull nodded in agreement and studied the sketch once more.
"Of course, I require half of it up front," Red Skull said, his tone not leaving room for negotiation. Mandarin was thoughtful for several long moments, frowning, but then he nodded as well.
"Because Mr. Stane speaks so highly of you, I will concede to your terms. I would like these designs as soon as possible. Do not disappoint me, Mr. Shmidt," Mandarin said. Red Skull closed the folder and handed it back.
"I won't."
* * *
It was close to four in the morning when Steve came in from his nightly patrol. He couldn't do as much as he wanted to. The stitches had been removed, but the pain that jolted through his arm from time to time when he pulled the freshly scarred skin could sometimes bring him to tears. But he was also a strong believer in active recoveries. One didn't take a break from weight lifting if their muscles burned the next day, they just kept making them stronger. Steve had learned early on that being injured didn't necessarily mean one was exempt from working. There was a purpose to The Captain, one he didn't feel compelled to just let fall to the wayside, and as soon as his stitches had come out, he'd come back out on the streets to continue protecting the people he had chosen to protect.
He skipped out on pain medications so he was level-headed out on the streets. He didn't like taking them in general because of the way that they fuzzed up his mind and made it difficult to wake in the morning, or concentrate on his day job... where the pills had blurred his mind out to where he'd stare at a design for hours without making any progress on it. He needed them less and less, in the months that had followed the initial injury, but after a patrol like tonight he definitely needed them.
He rustled around in the kitchen and took the pain pills with a glass of milk and leaned against the counter while he waited for them to kick in. He closed his eyes a little and considered a hot shower to get rid of some of the lingering aches, to relax him more before the pills began to work. He glanced at the clock on the microwave; he had chosen to work a late shift tomorrow, so he wouldn't need to wake for another ten hours at least. If he showered now, he could sleep even later.
He heard the door open and then close and he slit his eyes open, though he was unworried. Clint had decided to stay out and patrol the perimeter once more before coming home and he pushed off from the counter. "I'm going-" He started to say, but stopped when he saw it was Tony in the entryway. He was in a pair of torn jeans and a grease stained ribbed tank-top with holes cut out for the reactor. He was lighting up the hall all by himself- reactor and blazing amber eyes and bright smile.
"I want to show you something," Tony told him, linking his fingers around Steve's wrist and leading him outside to the car. The drive to Stark International didn't take long, and Steve followed Tony down corridors he'd never been, to an elevator he'd never seen, with buttons to sublevels that weren't on other elevators he'd been in to. Down below, Sub Level 2 according to the elevator, opened up in to a bleak grey building with computers and glass containers lining the walls.
They walked down a small set of stairs that led to a lower level in the room.
"My father put this in during the Cold War," Tony explained, turning to look at Steve for a moment, "And I repurposed it, when I initially came to New York in order to deal with..." He waved a hand vaguely, as though to indicate everything that had happened since he'd come here. Steve thought that was an apt way to sum it all up, really, and his arm ached just from the thought of it. Tony kept hold of Steve's wrist and led him over to the only filled glass case, which housed a gleaming red and gold... robot?
"You built a robot in a secret underground lab?" Steve sounded honestly confused. Tony's annoyed huff was familiar to Steve by now, though in this case, Steve wasn't sure it was technically appropriate. "You know, Dr. Ivo, I don't have any superpowers, so you might have wanted to grab The Human Torch, instead." Tony gave him a bewildered look.
"Never mind," Steve said, shaking his head. Tony frowned at him.
"It isn't a robot," Tony finally said, "It's the Iron Man. I built a very primitive version of it to escape from captivity. When I got back, and people started stealing my weapons designs, I put it away in a vault. Now that we've fixed that problem, I started back up on it and ran it through a few tests and... it's complete." Tony beamed and Steve looked between the suit and Tony.
"I want to be a hero, like you and Clint. This way, we can all work together, and I'll be able to help," Tony explained. Steve had been worried about Tony fighting with them (though trying to forbid it had gone over like a lead balloon) when he'd been armored the same way he and Clint were, using similar weaponry. It hadn't seemed right. But this...
"I know this sort of thing wouldn't fit either of your guys' fighting styles, so I didn't make one for you but for me, this is how I can help." Tony looked steadily at Steve and Steve continued to look between Tony and the armor and back again.
"Tony," Steve started but Tony waved his hands and interrupted.
"I can fly, okay, I'm like Superman. Except my laser beams come from my hands and not my eyes. And technically they're not laser beams, rather a deviation from Newtonian physics-"
"You can fly," Steve interrupted, his tone flat. Tony nodded eagerly. Steve looked between Tony and the suit once more.
"I can't tell you no. And at least this seems safer." Steve held a hand out to Tony and gave him a small smile. Tony blinked and took his hand. "Welcome to the team." Steve grinned and then let go, pulling Tony in to a hug.
"I feel better if I can be out there protecting you," Tony said quietly, his voice muffled in to Steve's shoulder. "I can make a difference this way. I can make up for... try to make up for... everything." He shook his head against Steve and Steve frowned a little and patted at him soothingly.
"I know I can't make up for everything-"
"Shh, Tony, it's okay," Steve interrupted and curled his fingers in to the hairs at the nape of Tony's neck. Tony shook his head a little again, but he stopped speaking, and he wasn't shaking anymore. Steve rubbed his other hand down the line of his spine, over the cloth of the tank top.
"I promise we'll do good this way," Tony started up again, once he pulled away. "I promise."
Steve wished he knew how to comfort Tony more than he was doing right now. But Tony was more difficult to read than other people were, so he wasn't entirely sure how to go about it. He had seemed to settle a little more, which was certainly a plus, as far as everything went. Steve kept stroking at Tony's back and he laced their fingers together, leading Tony towards the stairs.
"Yeah, Tony," Steve agreed as they headed upstairs, Steve pushing Tony ahead of him, "We'll do good this way." Steve smiled and reached out to stop Tony. With Tony on the step higher than Steve was, their heights almost evened out, so Steve only had to arch his neck a little to kiss Tony. Tony looked a little surprised at the act, but Steve just pulled him a little closer, fingers curling in to the tank top he was wearing. Tony pulled back after several moments, eyes bright like he'd just been offered the entire candy store. He hurried Steve up the remainder of the stairs and in to the elevator.
He was introduced to a penthouse he'd never been to either, where Tony apparently had been staying, and more importantly, to the bedroom there.
Steve woke up late, but Tony wore his Iron Man suit when they went to pick Clint up the following afternoon. Steve got in to his costume and they forced Clint in to his own as well. Introductions were made, thought not really, it was only Tony letting Clint know who he was, to prevent any sort of secrecy becoming a problem between the three of them. They were going to be a team now.
"We're going to need a name," Steve pointed out as he affixed his mask and Iron Man drummed his metal fingers on the tabletop.
"Iron Man and his two sidekicks?" He suggested innocently. Clint snorted and Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head emphatically, almost immediately. He was sure Iron Man was pouting behind the faceplate, though if he was, he made no real outward indication of it.
"How about the Terrific Trio?" Clint asked and Steve huffed a little more and Iron Man's laughter echoed metallically behind the faceplate.
"Right, because we won't immediately be called rip-offs, as far as nomenclature goes, since the Fantastic Four has been active recently," Tony pointed out. Steve shook his head.
"Let's not rush in to this impulsively," Steve cautioned, "We have time to think of some things, we should get used to being a team before we rush in to naming it. Not that I don't think we'll work out, just getting to know how we work together might breed some creativity."
"Look at who is Mr. Rational over here," Clint said, rolling his eyes, and Tony laughed again.
"I want to show you guys something," Tony said after a moment. He took them to the old Stark Mansion, a large brownstone building that had been repurposed in to one large family home.
"I figured this could be our new headquarters," Iron Man said, his voice modulated through the helmet in a way that annoyed Steve. Clint and him already knew who was in the suit, so he saw no reason for there to be secrecy when they were in their own base. He could have at least put the helmet up. "I put an armor lab in, training rooms, bed rooms, and enough places to where we can expand our roster if we need to. I've been working on it since that fight against... Stane."
"Why are you wearing your helmet?" Steve asked, irritability creeping in to his tone. Clint stifled laughter behind his hand, and Steve resisted the urge to glare at him.
"Same reason you're still wearing your cloth mask... I just like being my alter ego. Besides, the helmet is cool." Tony popped the faceplate up and then linked his gauntleted hand with Steve's. Steve frowned at him, but he really couldn't stay mad when Tony was being sweet. He curled his fingers with Iron Man's and looked around the new hideout.
"It's certainly better than using Clint's apartment," Steve said after a moment, "And a training room will be nice for when we want to practice our tactics." Steve nodded in approval and Clint sighed a little, sinking down in to one of the plush chairs situated in front of a fireplace.
"I'm still working out all the kinks, but I did install JARVIS in here, so it won't be as bad as it otherwise would have been." Tony sat down on the couch and it creaked under the weight of the armor. Steve let go of Iron Man's hand and wisely chose to sit in a different chair, watching the way the couch bowed under Tony's not-insignificant weight.
From there, it was business as usual... sort of. Tony moved the headquarters of Stark International back to New York and had Pepper and Happy flown in to resume their duties as usual. The news reports had officially cleared Stark International's involvement in the weapons testing that had claimed innocent lives, though Tony was still paying compensation to the families, as an act of good will. Steve was worried, of course, that Red Skull's body had never been recovered, but the weapon had been undamaged, when they'd gone back to grab it after finishing up at Strange's house. The Captain, Iron Man, and Hawkeye were more in the public eye... assisting the Fantastic Four on one occasion, but mainly dealing with their own, more urban issues.
A particularly well-televised fight garnered more attention than normal, a band of thugs calling themselves the Wrecking Crew had begun to cause problems. They'd tangled with them once or twice before but a huge fight broke out on the docks, which had caused significant damage to them. Tony had covered the costs, though the shareholders hadn't been entirely happy about it.
A quiet evening in, several weeks after that fight, was just what the doctor ordered. Steve was doing world's better and things with Tony had settled in to a rather comfortable sort of rhythm. Clint pretended not to notice and Tony seemed reticent to make a real commitment; but then, Tony wasn't being exposed in news articles about his newest fling all the time either... so Steve took victories where he could get them. Not out, but exclusive, and for now, Steve could live with that.
"I'm thinking about making some changes to the mansion," Tony announced as he joined Clint and Steve in the living room.
"I think the first thing I'd do is upgrade your security system," A voice from behind them said. Steve turned quickly and a man wearing all black, a long leather trench coat, and an eyepatch strolled in to the room. His head was shaved and there were just the faintest traces of a scar above and below the patch. "I'm Colonel Nick Fury. I'm the Director of a group called S.H.I.E.L.D."
"I've never heard of a group called that," Clint interrupted, but Steve nodded.
"I have," Steve said, he hadn't been a member, but he'd worked with a few of them when he'd returned from Afghanistan, before his tour of duty had officially ended. "They work for the government." Steve clarified, since he was sure Colonel Fury's cloak and dagger presence was putting Clint on edge. Probably Tony too.
"Me too," Tony said cheerfully, "They debriefed me when I returned from Afghanistan." He waggled his brows suggestively and Steve shook his head at him while Clint rolled his eyes. Fury chuckled, but it was a little... fake. Fury strolled forward, not making a sound as he stepped across the carpet.
"Saw your work on the docks," Fury said, "And we thought that it might be time for you three to step up your game a little." Fury nodded to them. Steve tilted his head to the side in confusion and stepped in front of Tony and Clint, he was generally the voice of the team, as far as news segments and such went anyways.
"I want to talk to you three about the Avenger Initiative," Fury said and he pulled a folder out from the inner pockets of his jacket. Tony Steve was intrigued and he moved forward to take the folder and Fury made a face that could have been a smile... or a grimace.
The cover page was simple enough. Avenger Initiative; Superhero Defense Force. Steve closed the folder and smiled at Fury.
"Well, Colonel, I think we'd be very interested in what you have to say."
