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“Sir,” Agent Colson held out a tablet, his face drawn and unusually serious, “he got her.”
Fury swore quietly, which made Steve’s eyebrows rise as he asked, “Got who?”
The director put the tablet down and expanded the image to hover above the table. “Another agent, a technician, one of our brightest. Had a hand in just about everything you see around here.”
Steve watched what appeared to be security camera footage of a hallway lined with numbered doors. He could just make out a man with a struggling woman in his hold as he dragged her down the hall despite the impressive fight she put up. At one point she kicked out hard enough to force him into a wall, and for a brief moment it looked like she might break free. But then he merely readjusted his grip and pulled her around a corner out of sight.
“And he made Barton do it.” Agent Romanoff scoffed, expression blank though her eyes were bright. Agent Barton was one of the first agents Loki had turned, and Natasha seemed to become particularly tense whenever he was mentioned.
“That’s not another agent,” Stark interjected, something besides sarcasm coloring his tone for the first time since he’d appeared, something bordering close to concern. “That’s Gizmo.”
“Gizmo?” Natasha arched an eyebrow which went ignored by its target. Steve squinted at the video as it began to replay, wondering how Tony was able to recognize anyone in such grainy footage. Abruptly, the video was replaced with a much clearer image of the woman in question, now smiling out of an ID photo, and whatever had seeped into Stark’s voice now shot straight through Steve’s chest.
Your name escaped him without conscious thought, sounding like a question, but what really surprised him was the echo he heard from Dr. Banner.
Now Fury’s eyebrows rose as he looked between them. “You two know her?”
Steve swallowed, fighting to return to impassivity. “She’s, uh, been helping me adjust. Since I woke up.”
“Helping you adjust? You’ve been in contact multiple times?” Fury’s lips pinched tight at Steve’s hesitant nod, and then he turned his steely gaze on Dr. Banner.
“She found me back in ‘08 after my blow up in Harlem.” Bruce stared at the picture, tapping his glasses against his hand. “Said she’d keep the government off my tail. She was so young... I thought she was joking about being a secret agent.”
“Found you where?” Fury asked, the question sounding more like a warning.
“Canada.”
The director took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and Steve wondered at his tightly controlled frustration. “You’re telling me she’s made in-person contact with both of you?”
“With all due respect, sir, you told her not to.” One corner of Natasha’s mouth curled, despite the stiffness lingering in her shoulders. “Of course she did.”
“I have met the lady as well,” Thor added, drawing the room’s attention, and Fury sighed almost as if in resignation. “She was present on my first visit to Midgard, in the New Mexico. She speaks swiftly without need to pause for breath.”
“That’s Gizmo all right.” Stark may have sounded casual, but the tightness in his jaw spoke otherwise. Then his brow furrowed, and he jabbed a finger in Thor’s direction. “Wait, New Mexico? You’re the reason she abandoned me?”
“She did help save your life first,” Agent Romanoff replied before Thor could, and Tony turned his finger on her.
“I did not ask for your input.”
“What would Loki want with a technician when he’s already got Selvig?” Bruce interrupted, mouth pulled downward, either with thought or distress. Quite possibly both. “How would he even know about her?”
“Barton,” Natasha repeated. “She’s the only one he’ll let touch his gear. Even brainwashed he wouldn’t compromise on that.”
Bruce continued to stare at your picture, voice soft. “She was just a kid. She couldn’t have been old enough to drink.”
“Careful with your pity, Dr. Banner.” Natasha’s lips curled again but without a hint of humor. “She’s been in this business nearly as long as I have. I’d wager she’s made things unexpectedly difficult for Loki’s plans, whatever they are.”
Bruce’s brow furrowed, eyes shifting away from the display to meet Romanoff’s. Before he could speak, if that was his intention, Tony broke in. “Why wasn’t she at the base when everything went down? Mysterious alien tech, wormhole tunnels – this kind of thing has Gizmo written all over it.”
Fury shifted, hands clasping behind his back. His expression didn’t change but somehow seemed more deliberate, almost crafted. “She was on a temporary leave of absence.”
“Why?” Steve asked, a fresh stab of worry turning his stomach. It had been a while since he’d last heard from you, plenty of time for something to have happened, especially considering the things that tended to catch your interest. “Was she okay?”
“That is a personnel matter and not relevant to the problem at hand.” Fury’s façade didn’t crack, which was almost more suspicious than if he’d blatantly acted cagey.
“Sir,” Coulson stepped forward, amiable face strangely hard, “permission to interrogate the prisoner.”
“Denied.”
If anything, Coulson’s expression became even sharper. “Sir-”
“You are too close to this. He’s not going to tell you anything. You’d only be showing your hand.” Fury’s single eye seemed to carry more weight than two of anyone else’s. “We will get her back, but for the moment you need to stand down. That’s an order.”
Coulson still showed signs of obvious displeasure with this outcome, though he didn’t argue further. Fury looked at each of them in turn, and Steve had to wonder what exactly he was looking for. “The mission remains unchanged. The only difference is that Loki made a grave error – he took someone who appears to mean something to every person in this room. The sooner we find the Cube, the sooner we find her, the sooner we bring everyone home. So let’s get to work.”
Banner and Stark made for the lab, and Romanoff disappeared in another direction. Steve stood restlessly, but was unsure where to direct the energy roiling beneath his skin. He remained in the control center for another few minutes, but when it became clear he could serve no use, he decided to see how the search for the Cube was progressing.
He entered the lab just in time to see Stark endangering everyone on the ship for his own amusement, and the conversation that followed did little to endear the billionaire either.
Still, curiosity is a powerful thing. “You think Fury’s hiding something?”
“He’s a spy. Captain, he’s the spy. His secrets have secrets. You saw how tight lipped he got about Gizmo’s ‘leave of absence.’” Tony popped a blueberry into his mouth, and then gestured to Dr. Banner. “It’s bugging him, too. Isn’t it?”
The doctor hedged, but eventually he sighed and pulled his glasses off. “It was strange. He said himself that she’s one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s brightest. Why wouldn’t he put her on a project this big? What are they doing in the energy business at all?”
Stark offered him a blueberry as if in reward. “The bigger question is why didn’t she put herself on it? Fury made it pretty clear our girl does whatever she wants.”
The ‘our girl’ settled over Steve uncomfortably, like a coat that didn’t quite fit. He pushed the notion aside, told himself to focus, tried to think rationally. “Maybe she wasn’t interested.”
Tony made a ‘tsk’ sound and gave his head a shake. “I’ve known her longer than you have, Cap. Gizmo goes where the cool is. Something must have been extra off if she wasn’t in the middle of it, and I’m talking extra extra.”
Steve felt the stirrings of anger spark in his chest at Stark’s assertion, as if the man had ownership on insight into you based solely on having met you first. But arguing with him felt like a race where Steve had gotten turned around somewhere in the middle. It was pointless, and for all he knew he was running backwards.
He marched out with purpose half-realized. He didn’t want to admit it, but the other two were right – something about all of this was off. What was S.H.I.E.L.D. really doing with the Tesseract, and why hadn’t you been a part of it? And why hadn’t you contacted him for the past few weeks?
“Come on, Steve, you’ve been asleep for 70 years. It’s well past time to live a little.”
He hadn’t wanted to like you. Not for any particular reason having to do with you specifically, but mostly because he hadn’t wanted to like anything in the strange world where he’d woken up. All he’d wanted was his life back, his own time, the dance he’d missed by decades.
“And what would you suggest?”
But through the sheer force of your stubborn persistence, you’d broken him down and wormed your way past all his defenses. The world didn’t seem quite as overwhelming whenever you showed up, bearing movies and playlists and fusion food. You were the one who’d made him turn on his laptop for the first time, told him what websites were safe and which should be avoided, taught him not to trust anyone claiming to be a prince from a foreign country. You were the one who called (despite your clear aversion) to remind him to eat, drink water, sleep at some point. You were the one who got him a key to a local boxing gym and designed punching bags that could withstand his enhanced strength, though now you’d need to address the mounting hardware which still gave out far too easily.
“I have a few ideas.”
You were also the one who’d disappear for extended periods only to re-emerge with an apology and an explanation that you’d gotten caught up in something that came with a bunch of words he didn’t understand. Then you’d laugh at his blank expression, apologize again, and ask if he’d been outside that day. He hadn’t thought to be concerned when you didn’t show up for weeks, but he should have checked on you, made sure you were okay. Now you’d been kidnapped by a madman, forced to do who knows what, and Steve had let it happen.
“Then by all means – lead the way.”
The main objective was to find the Cube, but Stark was right – Steve couldn’t help with that. The other thing, though, Fury’s secrets, the root cause of your absence… maybe that was something he could look into. It wasn’t much, not nearly as advanced as whatever deal Tony had going, but he could do a little digging on his own, find out what S.H.I.E.L.D. was really up to, and what it had to do with you and why they’d sent you packing.
After everything you’d done for him, he owed you that much, at least.