Chapter Text
Paved with Good Intentions
Prologue
“It was good of you to come Captain.” She settles into a chair and looks up at him where he is standing at parade rest on the far side of the room.
Steve gives a short nod. He’s only met Maria Hill once, and he’s not there out of the goodness of his heart. Orders are orders, even after all these years. Colonel Philips would have been able to tell Fury that he had never been all that good at following them, had always done what he believed was right instead, but now they soothe him somewhat, something familiar to cling to in a world so new it might as well be a different planet. There is very little else here that he knows, but military expectations change very little.
She seems happy to accept what he knows is a bordering on insubordinate silence, and spreads a few folders on the table in front of him. “The creature known as Loki is far stronger than anyone, anything else, you’ve ever encountered Captain,” she states in a clear, uncompromising tone.
He doesn’t argue, he appreciates her crisp work ethic and manner, simply nods again. He doesn’t doubt that she knows his past missions as well as he does. He’s a legend now, so they tell him.
Realising that he is not going to start defending an inflated ego, or macho pride, a hint of a smile lightens her face and she carries on, “By our estimates creatures from his world are approximately eight times stronger than human norm. That makes him five times stronger than you. I’ve put together the files of the people we’ll send with you to apprehend him.”
Steve feels a sinking sensation in his stomach as he looks at the folders. He feels as though the very air of the room is crushing in on him. More people depending on him, more lives in his hands. He settles himself in the chair on the other side of her desk, steels himself, and flicks open the first folder.
“Natasha Romanov,” Maria Hill states, fingernail tapping the profile picture at the top of the page, “One of our best Agents. She’ll be your liaison with us, not in a formal way you understand, but she knows our habits, knows our protocols. She’s an incredible fighter too,” she eyes him beadily, perhaps expecting him to object to a woman in combat.
Steve does not touch the picture, though his fingers twitch slightly in his lap. He can see Peggy in the glint of this woman’s eyes, the curl of her hair. “I don’t doubt it,” he says, skimming over the information, assassin, spy, master in several disciplines of hand to hand combat. She’ll be an asset in anything he has to do to apprehend this creature requiring stealth, and she’s probably used to thinking on her feet, an asset in any situation. He pulls the folder closer for more in depth perusal later. “Next.”
She taps another folder, “Bruce Banner, but it would be better for you to see the footage we have of him to really understand. She flips another folder open so he briefly catches a glimpse of another photo, “Barton. He’s our compromised man. If at all possible, bring him in alive.” She stacks that folder on top of Banner’s. “And finally,” he takes the final folder, opening this one himself.
Inside is a picture he’s already seen, Howard’s boy. Anthony. He feels his heart stutter in his chest and has to look away from the strong features and Howard’s dark eyes in a different face. He cannot curl into a ball and whimper and cry because he’s lost everyone he has ever known, everything that has ever mattered to him. He’s Captain America, that is all that has survived of Steve Rogers, all these people know him as, and Captain America doesn’t give into such weaknesses. And besides, it would be the height of selfishness. He’s not the only one to lose everything, not the only one to be alone. Bucky had been an orphan, Peggy had lost her parents and both her little sisters in the Blitz and had been the last one of them, outliving all her boys, no one left who knew what they’d done and faced. But still, he can hardly bear to look at the face of Howard’s boy, tantalisingly almost-familiar, a mockery of what he truly wants. “I’ve read it.”
“This is the full version. Stark can’t hack into this to change it.”
“Hack?” he asks, in the weary way he has adopted when questioning new, unfamiliar words.
“It means to use a computer to break into someone else’s computer.”
“And he can-? Is that legal?”
“No.” She shuffles some papers briskly together, “No it is not, but Stark is...” she hesitates, bites her lip and looks away.”
“Ma’am? Stark is..?”
“I don’t want to...I know Howard was your friend.”
Steve keeps his tone absolutely level, “He is not Howard.”
She nods once, the same economy of motion in her gesture that had been in his earlier, “Very well Captain. Stark is brilliant, a technological genius. He can build things you can’t imagine, that we can’t imagine. He can do anything you can think of and then some with a computer. If it exists digitally – that means on computer – if Stark wants to read it, he can. But outside of his sheer brains he’s arrogant and spoiled. He takes a childish delight in being deliberately difficult and antagonistic. He can charm anyone he wants, and uses it as a weapon, seduces women and leaves them disgarded in his wake. He’s nothing but a little boy playing at hero, and, quite frankly, I wish you didn’t have to work with him. You’re our greatest asset and he’s a...” she flounders.
“A bad influence,” Steve suggests with a small smile.
“Well...yes.”
“I’ll be fine. I won’t be led astray,” he’s half joking.
“I know. You’re...well...you. Just don’t...don’t let his light dazzle you from the darkness underneath.”
Steve isn’t precisely sure what she means by the words or the ominous tone so he just nods. He’ll bear in mind what she’s told him, but he makes his own decisions.
*
He is prepared for a lot of things but for Stark to be so outright callous about his time under the ice, so unwilling to hang back even for a few seconds until he has a better plan than throw himself into battle against a creature strong enough to twist him into a pretzel even inside his metal contraption, that he is not prepared for.
He wouldn’t have said half the things he did if not for the influence of Loki’s septre, but it is undeniable that he was thinking them. He doesn’t doubt that Stark means the vicious words that fall from his own lips either. And after...after...for a brief, shining moment, he is impressed, is willing to make amends because Stark is willing to throw himself on the wire after all, but then he hears him bragging to a pretty girl in a SHIELD jumpsuit with a rubble streaked face, about how his armour could survive anything and realises that brave it might have been, but flying the nuke through the portal had hardly been the self-sacrifical action he thought it was. Stark had known he’d survive the whole time, once again, just cutting the wire. He’s glad Stark’s alive, of course he is, but it’s somewhat disappointing to be proven right about the man.
Later, when Stark has returned to what is left of his decimated tower and he, Barton and Natasha to the SHIELD barracks he steels himself to bring it up, to ask neutral questions about what they think of the people Fury plans to make their team. They have glowing words of recommendation for one another, obviously long term partners, possibly more if Steve is interpreting the regular touches of reassurance correctly. Barton is openly awed by Thor’s strength and endurance in battle. Natasha speaks hesitantly but surely of how both Banner and the Hulk are assets in their own way. They both assure him that they are willing to continue to follow his commands.
Then there is silence. An awkward, uncomfortable silence, that means too much. “And Stark?”
“An advantage in battle,” Natasha says, lapsing back into silence for a moment before adding. “Outside of the suit he’s a bit...”
“Yes.” Steve agrees.
“I did his original assessment for the Avengers. He’s not...his heart’s in the right place, mostly, if he’s not deliberately needling. And he’s charming, if someone who pokes every raw spot he can find to see if you twitch is the kind of man you find charming, but he’s not...he wouldn’t pass a psychological profile. He’s too erratic, and too self-absorbed.”
“And a sex predator,” Barton grumbles under his breath.
Natasha’s fingers tighten sharply over his wrist, “And he’ll flirt with everything that moves and some things that don’t. He’d never force anyone...but I don’t think he gets that many rejections.”
Steve doesn’t like the discomfort that puts into his stomach. He doesn’t like the thought Stark trying to coerce Natasha into bed, coerce anyone into bed, with promises of the world and no honourable intentions. He’d been on tour with USO girls for months, but he’d never have even dreamed of asking that of them, of ruining them in that manner. And he knows it’s different now, he’s had it explained to him, but it’s...disrespectful. “What does his wife say?”
“Pepper Potts? She’s not his wife. He used to be his PA, his assistant. She runs his company for him now and they’re...she’s his girlfriend.”
“And he’s faithful?” It’s a personal question, but Steve won’t have a man incapable of personal loyalty on his team. He just won’t, fighting alongside one another as they have done today, is too great a risk when you cannot trust each other.
“So far as I know. I can’t imagine that Pepper would stand for anything else. And she’d know, she’s known him for a long time, he’d never be able to hide it from her.”
Steve gives a soft noise of assent. “But your initial assessment still said that he was personally and psychologically unsuitable for the Avengers?”
“He wasn’t dating her back then, she might be the making of him,” Natasha defends, smothering a yawn.
Barton snorts through his nose, “Come on Cap, he’s a delicate billionaire, what does he know about hard work and discipline and struggle? Do you really think he’ll be able to hack this on a regular basis? When it’s not a novelty, and not exciting and not fun?”
Natasha tips her head slightly. “Maybe. At the moment he’s not a full Avenger anyway, he’s just a consultant. We can call him in when we need him, he’s welcome to help us out if he wants, but he’s under no obligation and we won’t rely on him and see how it works out until we get a better handle on how he reacts to stress like this long term.”
It’s a sound analysis, and Steve has no doubt that Natasha is the best people person of the three of them, the one best able to read others, and certainly the one who knows Stark the best. “Will it cause a problem to change Director Fury’s agreed line-up?”
“Shouldn’t. Stark was already told we’d like to use him as a consultant but that he was unsuitable to be an Avenger full time.”
Steve nods again. His mind is beginning to drift away from this conversation, he’s longing for nothing more than a shower and then bed. At the door to Natasha’s room he bids her a soft goodnight and continues down the dusty, silent hallway in step with Barton. “Night Hawkeye,” he yawns when he reaches his own door.
Barton gives a lopsided smirk that creases his face and doesn’t reach his eyes, “We’re team mates Cap. Call me Clint.”