Chapter Text
It wasn't terrorism if it's just for fun. Oh, sure, a couple of people died here and there, but it really wasn’t their fault. Neither was it their responsibility to plan for human stupidity. They just liked playing with large explosives with even larger stakes. And it wasn’t like hearing about their little band of misfits on the news was such a deterrent. Sooner or later the cops will catch up, but thanks to their unique and variable skill set, they haven't yet. It’s hard to catch inconsistent criminals; they have no pattern. They called themselves the Avengers, but they didn't really know what they were avenging and if there was even a reason to. It sounded nice and mysterious, like they had a bigger purpose beyond having fun.
In reality, they operated from a basement of their house, a new one every couple of months just to keep the authorities confused. Their bombs were homemade and more often than not, none of them could agree on where to detonate them. Tempers flared all the time, and dinners were always tense—when they had dinners together, that is. The group consisted of an insane mechanic whose parents didn't love him, two crafty personas who fancied themselves spies, a man with anger issues, a moral compass who was often ignored, and an escapee from a mental hospital who thought he was a god. It was a damn-right miracle they all managed to survive that long.
They all met by accident (because how else do these things come about?) in an old factory where Tony was trying out a bigger and better bomb and Tasha with Clint were hiding out from a mob boss they cheated out of money. It was quite a scare with two guns pointed at Tony's head and a bomb with a countdown in Tony's hands. It wasn't like he couldn't disable the countdown, but getting shot as he was doing it was never on his to-do list. As soon as Tony placed and detonated the bomb under gunpoint that a blond, tall drink of water ran up to them yelling about destruction of property and are they insane but also are they hurt, and do they need medical assistance? Because he could call an ambulance.
It was comedic the way both guns swung from Tony to the new guy as he was calmly asked to put the phone down, but then Tasha realized there wasn't a gun pointed at Tony, and swung hers back. Steve did, eyes wide as saucers, and Tony almost felt bad for the kid. A hot, well muscled kid that wasn’t a kid at all the more Tony squinted. And he wasn’t frightened, as Tony first assumed, but exasperated and maybe a little disappointed?
Seeing as they were all in a standstill staring at each other suspiciously half with guns, there wasn’t really a way to break the ice that wouldn’t send them all toppling. Surprisingly, it was another man and would they all stop showing up, Tony only wanted to blow stuff up how did the situation spiral out of control that much, that broke the tension by saying something ridiculous about the sky. And by the appearance of his hair--long, blond and unkept flapping in the wind. And his white pajamas. Or prison garb, upon closer inspection.
And he demanded food (but he called it sustenance), to which Tony jumped right on, offering to take them all for food as a way to diffuse the situation. To think all that was happening as the building behind them burned. By the time they all spilled through the door of a burger joint, Tasha had already threatened anyone thinking about making a move she didn’t like by neutering them and making it look like an accident.
The silence was awkward as they waited for their food, squeezing into a booth made for people twice as small. The new guy, who introduced himself as Thor but no one believed that it was really his real name was smiling weirdly while staring off into the distance. That was when the occupants of the table began to suspect something wasn’t held together in that man's head. The silence continued right through the food arriving, and the eating of it. Any conversation attempts got Tony glares, so he ate his burger quietly.
Somehow, they all followed Tony home, poor Steve comatose after a nasty hit in the head from Clint when he moved too quickly. Bruce was brought in later, by Natasha, shaking and holding himself together with too much whites in his eyes and pupils blown to bits. She dropped him in Tony's lap and said, "Fix it," like Tony knew how. He didn't but he tried when the resident good boy glared at him from where he was tied up in the shame corner. In the early days, Steve always tried to escape and had to constantly be tied down so he wouldn't be spilling their secrets to the world. Or getting them arrested. They thought they did a good job with taking care of him, only having forgotten to feed him once and never again after the god awful puppy eyes. And the damned disappointment. Tony got enough of that from his parents, he didn't need it from the gorgeous model tied up on his floor.
Bruce came to, eventually, and successfully locked himself in the bathroom. There weren't any razors or anything sharp in there as it wasn't used often by anyone because the showers upstairs had better water pressure and Tony often poured chemicals down the drain that made the whole room smell awful, and Tony told Bruce as much. He noticed the scars.
Natasha was the resident money maker (somehow), as well as resident planner and resident cleaner and resident...well, everything but cooking. Clint did that. No one really knew that much about Clint, though.
Thor, (no one really bothered to figure out his real name and soon stopped wondering as asking didn't get them anywhere) often took long walks that he surprisingly came back from and mumbled about a Jane and a Loki and an Asgard, and packed a mean punch. Tony figured that out first hand. But he was smart when he focused, sharp, and had great insight. He also spent an unhealthy amount of time in the basement, keeping Steve company and talking at Tony who was too focused to listen.
Eventually, Bruce came out of his shell enough to ask Tony what the hell he was doing, and then began speaking science at him. They became instant buddies, talking faster than anyone could follow, and building not just bombs, but cool gadgets and experimenting with with them. Until he got angry enough to level the makeshift (they're always makeshift nowadays) lab and then relapsed into the shaking and silence and self-harm even though everyone hid the sharp things.
Tony didn't get to blow stuff up for the first couple of months while they figured out their strange dynamic. He also had to learn to share his space and his stuff and realized people ate three times a day and went to sleep at a set time. It was unnerving. No one dared argue with Natasha though. She set the schedule. And had all the guns.
But when he did, it was glorious. The extra time got him building a chain reaction of explosives that levelled the whole block they tested it on. They were all there to witness it, as well as run from it when they realized they were inside the hit radius. Steve was out of his restraints, Tasha deeming him loyal enough to not need them anymore. Only he complained and yelled at them and then gave them the silent treatment when he realized no one was listening. Clint also told him to shut the fuck up and took the safety off his gun in a subtle threat. Worked wonders.
That explosion go them onto the news radar. No one saw their faces, but a group of orphaned children got caught in the blast and they got labeled terrorists for that. Reactions varied. Tony pretended not to care even though he was hella proud, Tasha smiled and Clint was ecstatic, actually voluntarily coming down from the attic to engage socially. Bruce once again locked himself in a bathroom whether from the children's deaths or his own issues no one could tell. Steve wouldn't look at any of them and had to be restrained again in the corner of shame that was more of his corner now with his stuff piled everywhere. Surprisingly, it didn't bother Tony that Steve's stuff was infringing on Tony's lab space. And Thor...well, no one was sure he knew they got on the news.
After a while, and two explosions later, they packed up and moved. Tony wasn't sentimental about his home, but he was about his lab and it took a day of consoling and then threatening to get him to pack it up. And burn it.
A moving truck was procured by either Natasha or Clint, hell, maybe Bruce, Tony was still in mourning enough not to notice. Turned out, only Tony's lab needed packing up. Steve wasn't happy about moving, to which Tasha explained that he was still hoping to get rescued. That made Tony think about the life Steve might have led until the factory incident, and wasn't it strange to think that maybe they kidnapped Steve? Who was once again out of his restraints but under Clint's watchful eye.
Most of the ride was spent sleeping with Thor driving, Bruce sitting shotgun, Tony on the right, Steve on the left, Clint in the middle with Natasha in his lap who was giving directions and a glare to anyone disturbing the quiet. There wasn't even radio to fill the extra silence. It appeared they were held together by those glares, too afraid to leave Natasha's strange mothering nature. They had been unfortunate enough to become her adopted children (even though she was probably younger than most of them.)
Unpacking was just as traumatizing as the packing had been. The house was smaller, one level plus basement. The basement actually had rooms instead of the open space Tony was used to. Steve got placed in bedroom there and Thor just followed. Tony would sleep in his lab, thank you very much, and that left Tasha, Clint and Bruce to split the upstairs' two bedrooms. Before they could properly move in Tony was already tinkering with all his lab equipment haphazardly stacked everywhere. He didn’t sleep the night.
Next morning, the doorbell rang and made half the occupants startle while Tony short-circuited the new thermonuclear generator he was making.
Tasha opened the door, smiling brightly to everyone's extreme discomfort, and welcomed their new neighbours. She introduced them all as fiancé, brothers, boyfriend of a brother and a friend and then invited the couple with their casserole inside. No one contradicted her, instead attempting to play up the impromptu roles they just got assigned, but looking more like threatened wallflowers while Natasha and Clint played it up. And they were good. Their performance had everyone watching.
By the time the couple from across the street left, they were charmed, leaving their phone number in case of an emergency and inviting them all for dinner tomorrow night which Natasha politely declined claiming the move had made everyone tired.
Tony needed to blow something up, and said as much. Tasha already had a plan and asked how soon the next explosive will be ready. Tony, like a gleeful child, explained, "Two days, tops," and continued to give specifications no one was listening to. Bruce suggested to do it publicly, and blow up a big monument while Steve tried to dissuade everyone. Unsuccessfully. Tasha wanted a couple of casualties to uphold their image and Tony wanted it to be huge. Clint began cooking, foreseeing that it was going to be a long discussion that will inevitably stem into lunch time. Thor set the table and then sat himself down in a chair, sometimes giving input. He appeared more present lately, paying attention and helping out without being prompted. He also strayed less from the topic, and interested himself in different activities. And took less walks.
They haven’t yet reached an agreement by the time they all finished eating, and had to disband before anyone would try to enforce their opinion with violence. Two days later found them running from the police in their van. Something somewhere went wrong.