Chapter Text
Scott Lang was slumped on his stool at the breakfast bar, head in his hands as he silently watched the ants crawl across the smooth marble.
Wakandan ants were like nothing he had ever seen before. In comparison Bullet ants were like harmless puppy dogs.
Whatever this species was called, they were the creepiest things he’d ever seen.
Almost twice the size of a Crazy ant, they had large ominous eyes like a hornet and menacing mandibles that were perfectly designed for inflicting bites. Unfortunately for Lang he’d figured this out the painful way. Three days later and the bites were still itching like hell.
Frightening appearance aside, the ants had eventually begun to respond to Scott’s commands although it had taken a few days of trial and error. At first he had assumed that he was just out of practice.
Minutes had turned to hours and he had started to wonder if Pyms tech was even working.
In the end it turned out that the solution was simple.
The Colony began to respond to his commands after receiving a humble offering of honey in the cap of a soda bottle.
Apparently, these guys didn’t work for free.
Smart.
Scott sat back and admired his masterpiece, watching the ants manoeuvre the final piece in place.
“Hey,” he said to a rogue ant, who stared back at him with piercing black eyes, antenna twitching impatiently. “No eating the art work.”
“That is disgusting,” Wanda said as she stopped to peer over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” he replied, enjoying her disgust with immense satisfaction. Across the marble amidst the scattered ants the word ‘bored’ had been spelt using sugar cubes.
“Great work guys,” he praised. “It’s a little lopsided but overall, I’m impressed.”
Lang left the table and headed over to the enormous refrigerator, leaving the ants to entertain themselves for a short while. Much to his amusement he couldn’t help but notice the amount of distance Wanda put between herself and the countertop.
“They’re not flesh eating you know,” he said, grabbing the handle and prying the door open.
“Did you have to bring them inside?” she scolded. “This is a kitchen, we eat food in here!”
Examining the contents of the fridge Scott decided that none of it would probably be of any interest to the ants, unless they were on Steve’s high protein super soldier diet. He closed the door and headed back to the counter, plucking a tangerine from the bowl as he went.
Wanda’s glare was relentless- Scott swore he could feel her gaze smouldering him from across the room, even with his back turned.
Barton seemed to have a habit of appearing out of nowhere.
One moment Lang was peeling the fruit and minding his own business, the next he almost dropped it in surprise when he casually peered over his shoulder to find the archer standing there.
“Are those ants?”
“Obviously” Lang replied, dropping the first juicy tangerine slice onto the countertop. The ants approached instantly, scrambling over the flesh of the fruit and twitching excitedly.
“And you’re feeding them,” Hawkeye said, watching the scene unfold with a look of repulsion on his face.
“Rewarding them.”
“Don’t you think you’re too old to be playing with bugs?”
“I’m not playing with them man! This is…. training.”
“Training,” Clint repeated, looking at Scott like he had clearly lost his mind.
Wanda wasn’t squeamish with bugs but she couldn’t bare to stand in that kitchen any longer. When she watched the ants moving across the countertop it felt like they were crawling across her skin.
Taking her glass with her she headed for the doorway, deliberately walking the furthest route to avoid the counter. She didn’t spare the new residents a second glance, that was until Scott called out to her urgently.
“Wanda, wait!”
She halted instantly, but before she could utter a single word Scott hurried over and knelt on the hard floor by her feet.
“Watch where you’re walking, you almost killed Ant-Marie!”
“Ant-Marie,” Clint repeated, in a way that suggested he was questioning Lang’s sanity.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Scott accused. The ant, seemingly unaware that it had narrowly escaped being crushed by Wanda’s boot, wondered off to join the rest of the colony to enjoy the exciting feast.
“Like what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the archer denied.
“Like I’m on the bus to crazy town.”
“Hey, it’s cool. Everyone likes pets,” Clint said, “but most people just get a dog. Are you allergic or something?”
“Haha,” Lang said, offering the last tangerine slice to the ants. “Was the real reason you quit retirement to become a comedian?”
“Unbelievable,” Wanda replied, shaking her head as she left the room.
Scott left soon after, his companions following behind him.
“You not going to introduce me to the rest of your friends?”
“Screw you man,” Lang replied, with no real venom in his voice.
After spending his first brief spell of consciousness being assessed by the neuro-specialists, Tony slept through the remainder of the day in his warm hospital bed.
All the mental stimulation had wrung his healing brain out like a wet dish rag, and for the next week he did little but sleep. His friends couldn’t help but worry that he was back tracking on his newly made progress. It felt like they were losing him to the coma all over again, although the doctors insisted that it was nothing to be concerned about.
After a long heated and emotional discussion, they’d eventually agreed to take turns taking vigil at his bedside.
After everything that had happened it didn’t feel right to leave Tony alone, not even in one of the city’s most elite private hospitals.
James had volunteered for the night watch.
He didn’t mind since he wasn’t sleeping much anyway, plagued by too many nightmares.
It was a late Thursday night and the Colonel sat in his newly acquired wheelchair, a book recommended by his physiotherapist perched in his lap, although he wasn’t really reading it.
He was still trying to get over the excessive security he’d encountered at the entrance to the ward.
He had argued that for Tony’s safety it was best if he always had company, but Hogan’s elite guards on the door wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.
Rhodes understood to a certain extent why an injured Iron Man would need a little security. This wasn’t a story that any of them wanted to see plastered over the latest tabloids.
His friend had acquired many enemies in his life. There were business rivals, bitter journalists, irrational villains, and jilted one-night stands. There were people out there who would enjoy kicking Tony while he was still down. Some of them might even by crazed enough to try and finish the job.
He’d been on enough missions to know that the bulky black suits they were wearing only had one purpose- to disguise their bulletproof vests and concealed firearms.
Talk about keeping a low profile.
The extra security did little to soothe his apprehension.
After everything that happened, he trusted no one.
James knew that in reality there was little he could do if anyone came through that door. Without the suit and the use of his legs he felt like less of a Lieutenant and more like a liability.
Since the accident Rhodes was always armed, but nobody needed to know about that. He was starting to wonder if it was for his own comfort or for the protection of those around him.
For the first time in weeks he could see the man he remembered starting to come back to them. The violet bruising around his eye was starting to fade. Against the pallor of his skin it looked worse than it actually was.
According to the doctor the fracture in his arm was healing nicely and the same could be said for his ribs. In just a few more days he may not even need the cannula anymore.
Iron Mans condition was currently on a need to know basis. There had been little discussion about how to handle the press, although Rhodey had his suspicions. Just like Tony’s open heart surgery, this too was probably destined to get swept under the carpet.
James didn’t know much about Peppers plans, but he knew that she was already in the process of concocting an elaborate cover story with help from the experts at Stark Industries.
“Peppers mad at me,” he told his friend. “We had a…. disagreement. It was nasty Tony. I’m glad you weren’t there to hear it.”
They were arguing in the deserted hallway, trying but failing to keep their raised voices down for the sake of the patient on the other side of the wall.
The truth was that at this point, not even an earthquake would wake Tony. Through a combination of powerful drugs and exhaustion, he was only going to wake when he was ready. Extreme fatigue was apparently normal for most head trauma patients.
“Pepper, I don’t want to argue with you-”
“Yet here we are,” she replied heatedly, arms folded across her chest and a frown etched on her face that was laced with obvious disapproval. “If people know that he’s vulnerable, I dread to think what could happen!”
“I know that you care about him,” James said, “and that you’ll do anything to protect him-”
“If you understand then why are you fighting me on this Rhodey!”
“Because I think you’re kidding yourself if you think that this is all going to just blow over!”
James didn’t want to fight, but it seemed as if Pepper wasn’t going to give him any other choice. He had tried to talk and reason with her, but with emotions running at an all-time high, he had only succeeded in causing an argument.
“This isn’t just another little scandal you can hide with a few white lies-”
“I know that!”
“It’s only a matter of time, people are bound to notice.”
“He’s going to be fine,” she insisted, unwilling to think about the alternative.
“But what if he’s not?”
James didn’t know if she was in denial or if it was simply her way of coping, but even after the talk in the doctor’s office, Potts had remained stubbornly optimistic.
She tried to avoid talking about the worst-case scenarios, even when the doctors were adamant that it was best to be prepared for every outcome that Tony’s injury could bring.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it Pepper, but sometimes the truth hurts! You heard what the doctors said. He might not recover from this. He could have a disability for the rest of his life. People are bound to notice!”
For a moment she remained quiet, gazing into his eyes with a coldness that he had never witnessed before.
“I’m starting to think you don’t want him to get better,” she said. “I’m sorry about what happened to you Colonel, I really am, but I can’t help but think that you want Tony to suffer too.”
Pepper wasn’t a bad person, James kept reminding himself that.
Those words had stung a lot, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate her. She was overwhelmed by grief, trying to be there for Tony and run the company at the same time.
She didn’t mean it, but it still hurt.
James had remained there in the hallway for a short while, still trying to recover from the bad card he’d been dealt.
As he’d sat in his wheelchair tired and defeated, he’d wondered what he had done in his life to deserve this. He thought about Tony too, laying in that hospital bed because one of his friends had put him there- Captain America.
Rhodey didn’t know much about science, but it was apparent to him that Erskine’s serum wasn’t so perfect after all. It had overcome Steve’s disabilities and fragile health, but it was unable to fix his unwaveringly persistent personality.
Pepper only had the best intentions in mind.
Even if they were no longer romantically involved with each other she would always care about Stark. Emotionally she couldn’t handle the dangers of his job anymore. Every time there was an assemble she wondered how many new bruises he would return with this time- that was if he returned at all.
She insisted that one day it was inevitable that he would come home in a body bag.
Rhodes couldn’t help but notice that despite always trying to distance herself from Tony, Pepper always came back.
James closed the book in his lap and placed it face down on the bedside table.
The billionaire continued to doze fitfully in his comfortable cocoon of fresh hospital issued sheets, sleeping undisturbed through the sound of the machines.
Steve couldn’t help but regret arriving in Wakanda the middle of a heat wave, apparently its hottest in over a decade.
After a meagre half hour training session super soldier or not, the blonde decided that he just couldn’t stand the heat anymore. Wiping the sweat from his brow he draped the warm cotton towel around his neck, retreating to the solace of the air-conditioned kitchen for a glass of cold water.
On route to the kitchen he passed Scott, who strolled past him looking like the pied piper.
He acknowledged Steve with a simple “Captain,” before heading off, followed by a trail of Wakandan ants carrying tangerine slices, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
After breaking his friends out of the raft, Rogers had headed to Wakanda with little to no plan of what to do next.
T’Challa had been a generous host, with only one demand- do not leave the grounds under any circumstances.
The worst part of being a fugitive besides the obvious fact of being hunted, was having to keep a low profile.
There was little they could do but be grateful for his highnesses hospitality.
Barton was perched on the window ledge, gazing through the large pane of glass with a dejected expression on face.
“So,” he sighed, “we traded one prison for another.”
“Come on Clint, you know it’s not like that,” Steve replied as he refilled his glass, deciding this time it wasn’t worth adding any crushed ice. It had melted too quickly.
“Isn’t it? I’m just calling it how I see it.”
“Don’t mind him,” Sam said cheerfully, lingering in the wide doorway, “I think somebody woke up on the wrong side of the nest this morning.”
“It’s not a prison Clint,” Rogers insisted.
“We can’t leave,” the archer argued.
“The King is giving refuge to the most wanted fugitives in the world right now,” the Captain reminded him. “If someone finds us here, things could get ugly. Innocent people could get hurt.”
“You’re right about laying low for a while,” Sam admitted, “it’s the right thing to do. We need time to get our heads together and figure out where to go from here. But Cap… you know this isn’t just going to blow over. They won’t stop looking until they find us.”
Steve knew his friend was right.
They couldn’t stay in Wakanda forever.
Fugitives or not, the world still needed the ‘rogue’ Avengers, they just didn’t know it yet.
The truth was when he thought about leaving Wakanda behind, he remembered Bucky in the Cryo chamber, defenceless and alone.
How could he just leave him behind?
“You’re all in this mess because of me,” he said, “and I’ll do what I can to make it right. The last thing I want is for you to end up back in jail, because next time…”
“If there is a next time, we sure as hell won’t be getting out,” Sam said frankly.
The room became quiet.
Hawkeye had a family, a beautiful wife and three children. Steve couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling right now. Barton was no criminal and he certainly didn’t deserve to be treated like one. He should be back at the farm, being a father to his new-born child.
Rogers didn’t know much about Scott Lang, but he knew that he had a daughter, Cassie. He talked about her a lot. It was obvious that he loved her dearly. Things had to be tough on him too.
There was something gnawing away at Steve.
It had been eating at him for weeks.
Falcon was watching him, like he could sense his unease.
Without a word he took a seat on the stool beside him, waiting until he was ready to talk. There was a therapeutic aura about Sam. The blonde felt like he could talk to him about anything without fear of being judged.
“Somethings bothering you Cap,” Falcon said, “more than usual.”
“When Bucky was arrested, Tony tried to convince me to sign the accords,” Steve admitted. “He said that if we signed, it would get Ross off our backs while we worked things out.”
Clint visibly stiffened at the mention of Stark, but he remained quiet.
“Smart,” Sam said, trying to ignore the look of scepticism on Barton’s face.
“I can see what he was thinking. Stark accepted the accords and now has his foot in the door. If he can prove that he can be trusted, maybe eventually he can help make changes. If he’d refused, they would have shut him out and forced him to resign. Then he’d never have a chance to try and make things right.”
“You make it sound simple,” Steve replied.
“The Accords are many things Cap, but simple isn’t one of them.”
“I almost signed,” Steve confessed. “Then I found out he was holding Wanda at the compound against her will. I was mad. Really, really mad. Now I’ve realised that she’s in the same position all over again, but just in a different country and a different house.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
The blonde remained silent for a moment.
He had been unprepared for this kind of response. He’d expected a nod, or some words of sympathy, but… it may have been just what he needed.
“I know you don’t want to leave him Cap,” Sam said, “but we can’t stay here forever. It’s just a matter of time before someone comes looking for us. If they find us here, they find Barnes too.”
Steve wasn’t under any illusions.
Sam was right.
If Ross and his men stormed the building, Buck didn’t stand a chance. In the clutches of Cyro he was as good as helpless.
“Who knows what they would do to him,” Sam added.
Steve didn’t want to think about it.