#something about this a while ago but barton has used self-harm as a way to try to get himself to feel something and this sometimes-

[mad-hunts]

[alexandrinav0605]

Talking to Strangers

Multi-Chapter 1/? LINK TO AO3

Penny Parker knew many things, one of them being that the foster system was shit. She also knew her social worker was stupid and useless doing her job, but nobody care, right?

After losing all her family and ending in foster care, Penny founds herself on mandatory group therapy, with some unusual companions. ----- TW: Mentions of rape (not graphic), Violence (not graphic, but mentions of the way of murder), Child Abuse.

English is not my first language, therefore, I'm not from US and I do not know how the foster system works, as well as group therapy.

-----

Penny didn’t know why she was there. Actually, she knew, but she didn’t understand it. When her social worker told her that group therapy would be needed, Penny thought she was joking. In which way talking about how shitty her life was to a group of strangers would help her? To be honest talking didn’t do anything, but this wasn’t really for her. Apparently, the government was forced to take care of all the children on the system that have been harmed because of their incompetence, not only physically but mentally. As it turns out there are many children that were harmed. The people in charge were surprised, I wasn’t. Most people fostering kids only do it for the money, and it was rare if they treated their foster kid correctly. Out of the 5 houses she had been, Penny was treated decently in only one and it was the bare minimum. Of course, there wasn’t money, they never had, so group therapy was cheaper, unhelpful, but cheaper, and that was all they care about.

She didn’t care, neither private therapy nor group therapy helped, talking in general didn’t help. No one understand what she was feeling. Her twin, Peter, did, but he was on her backpack, just ashes inside a cheap container. That was another thing of the many that existed in which Penny and her social worker disagree, her twin brother´s ashes being with her all the time. In reality Penny knew it wasn’t healthy, that she should let go and that her brother wasn’t really there, but it was hard. She was there when their foster father throw Peter to the wall, hitting Peter’s head. The noise alerted their neighbors, and they called the police, but it was late, Peter was already dead. She was placed in another home, with a man called Skip. That was something she could be glad about, Peter never had to live with that monster. Healthy or not, a year later she was still grieving, after all she was only 15 and she wasn’t in the mood to be order around by the person that had placed them in that house to begin with. It wasn’t like her life had to many healthy things anyway.

Entering the building, she wished she could run and pretend like she had attended, but she remembered the look of her social worker and her little warning that they will write who had attended. She wasn’t in the mood to endure a lecture, so she decided to go and ignore everything and everyone, how hard can it be?

As it turns out, very difficult. When she found the room where her group was supposed to be, the last people she hoped to find was the freaking Avengers. Everyone started at her while she made her way to the center of the room, and she felt uncomfortable. A part of her was jumping because she was in the same room as Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, that have always been her and Peter’s favorite scientist, but that was just in the inside, because that was the little part of her innocent that had managed to survive everything life had thrown at her.

What was worse was the man that turn out to be their mediator. The man in particular was someone she already knew and not a friendly one. He annoy her mainly because he liked to tell her who she should see the bright side. Well guess what asshole there is no good side.

“Hi, I’m Tyler and I will be your mediator while you are in this therapy program.” If glares could kill the man would be dead, but that didn’t stop him of talking. “So, as you may see we have a group that know each other and a person that doesn’t know anyone, personally of course.” He smiled at his bad joke and Penny just made an annoyed sound that got everyone’s attention. “Basic information we will see each other every Wednesday at the same hour in this same classroom. If you are wondering why of all things you are in the company of the Avengers,” He directed this to Penny. “We are required a minimum of 10 people per group and as you can see the Avengers are only 9, so using the resent stipulation of the government regarding the foster system, we thought it would be great to allow a child to meet the Avengers He looked around probably hoping for a reaction; the Avengers were indifferent, and Penny was straight up annoyed.

He made a long pause waiting for someone to say something, he was about to continue when Penny talked.

“Don’t you think that is dumb to make a child met the Avengers when they are talking about their problems and when said child is talking about his own problems not to mention how disrespectful it is for them to do so” Her tone was indifferent and bore, but her eyes reflected every emotion, anger being the main one, this man really annoyed her.

The Avengers and Tyler look at her surprised, and a little irritated in Tyler’s case. By now Tyler was used to her replications, so he just ignored it.

“I thought it may be nice to present yourselves and say why we are here before we do any other dynamic, Penny, why don’t you begin?” He looked around and began explaining why he knew her name. “Penny and I know each other from my days at the foster system.”

“I have many reasons why I don’t want to present myself the main want is that I think is kind of incoherent to begin with me, also unfair because it will lead to an unbalance position of information with me having less information about them as they already know each other, now I’m not saying I should go last because then it would be unfair for them” She smile at the end trying to appear innocent.

Tony Stork look amused as well as Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Captain Rogers has an annoyed expression on his face that probably had to do with the fact that he was a soldier who always followed orders, and her clear disdain for authority unnerve him. She didn’t care, she stopped caring a time ago.

Deciding against confrontation, Tyler asks for voluntaries. Being the leader he thinks he is, Captain Rogers offer to go first. The presentation was brief, he said his name and something about wanting to get over his dead ex-girlfriend and form a bond with his team. He was followed by Bucky Barens with something about HYDRA, and a certain Sam Wilson being a guilt survivor. Wanda Maximoff was something like a guilt and anger survivor, although Penny didn’t know if that even existed, if it did Wanda Maximoff was definitely one of them.

Natasha Romanoff was probably as reserved if not more than Penny was, the only thing Penny could gather was that that woman had a past even more dark that hers. Bruce Banner definitely had problems with his other self. Then it was Penny´s turn.

“I’m Penny Parker, I’m 15 years old” How much she hated this. “And I’m here because the people in charge rather put money in their pockets instead of helping me solve the problem their shitty system cause in the first place” When she finish, she look at Tyler, daring him to say something to her.  

“Penelope,” Damn complete name. “Not here, please.” Tyler was definitely trying to do anything to keep appearances.

“Then where? At least here I have a public that can see how much bullshit the foster system is.” Penny was getting really tired of his hypocrisy now.

Tyler send her a look and Penny couldn’t feel worse. She knew how delicate her situation was right now, one misstep and she will be sent to a special group house for mentally unstable people, and she didn’t want that. People always called her smart, so using that so called intelligence she shut her mouth.

The session continued with Tony Stark and his enormous guilt complex hide by a god complex, followed by Thor and all his death family. Finally, there was Clint Barton, who said that he wanted to fix the relationship with his team members, but he couldn’t hide anything for Penny, he wanted to be here as much as Penny wanted, most of them look miserably, not that Penny blame them.

“Alright, now that we know each other,” Penny didn’t know how Tyler could be so infuriating. “I want to make a dynamic that consist of saying what would you do if you could do anything you want.” He stroll his gaze around the room. “Now, we do have one rule that is: It needs to be something realistic, many of you are trying to deal with grief, so I don’t want things like bringing back your love ones.”

As Penny didn’t know who to keep her mouth close, she speak: “How about killing Tyler?” Seeing his alarming expression, along with the Avengers was amusing, but she added “Don’t worry Tyler I’m not talking about you.”

“We cannot wish for someone’s death” His warning look didn’t stop her.

“Boohoo, I wanted to give Mr. Preachy a taste of his own medicine” As always, her voice revealed nothing besides amusement and sarcasm, but her eyes gave everything someone needed to know she was serious.

Tyler was definitely tired of her antics. Penny couldn’t care less. He let it go and began with someone else; Penny didn’t pay attention, too concentrated in returning the looks that Natasha Romanoff was sending her. When it was Romanoff’s turn, she broke the staring contest to answer. Finally, it was Penny’s turn, although she wanted nothing more than to say murder Skip or Mr. and Mrs. Preachy, she went for something more normal.

“I want to go back to London” Everyone stared at her, surprise written all over their faces. “Not the famous London, but the outskirt, where there are all the neighborhoods.” She wasn’t kidding; she misses London, since she put a foot in this place. “Also, their foster system is much better.” She couldn’t stop being the little shit she is, right?

“Well, I was hoping something less materialistic, so tell me, why London?” Because she wanted to, ass. She was about to say that, but decided against it, be smart.

“It isn’t materialistic, Tyler.” Sarcasm was definitely a copping mechanism. “If you had bother to look at my file, you would know that I’m from London, if it wasn’t obvious enough by my accent” And it was true, although she hadn’t been in London for 10 years, she still had a British accent. Peter die with his accent as well, she wondered if she will ever loss it.

Tyler mumbled a quiet thanks, and after some words Penny didn’t listen, he gave them permission to leave. Gathering her things, Penny waited for everyone to leave before she leave herself. Outside the building she heard some words.

“I just don’t understand why she has to be so rude, the guy did nothing wrong. And what was that thing of wishing to kill someone about, what was his name?” Penny recognized the voice from the videos of detention.

“Mr. Preachy.” That was Natasha Romanoff.

“Leave the kid alone, capsicle, you don’t know what happened between them.” Penny thought that at least an Avenger had a little bit of brain.

She cleared her throat, making jump everyone, except Black Widow, who blinked. Penny began her show to teach something to Captain I Know Everything.

“Oh, how lucky I catch the Avengers, my brother is a fan of yours” She tried to sound amiable and she succeed.

Rogers talk first, clearly knowing she had heard him. “Well, we can sigh something for your brother if you want” Captain certainly was trying, bad for him.

“Actually, he is right here” Penny tuck out the container that guarded her brother’s ages, please to see the alarming looks in the Avengers. “Poor thing didn’t know what hit him. Well, he knew, a wall and Mr. Preachy’s fist” She pause looking directly in the eyes at Steve Rogers, waiting for him to say something, but all she got was a small Oh.

Turning to Dr. Banner she began talking. “Dr. Banner is a pleasure to meet you. My brother and I were always fans of your paper about Gamma radiation, we read ai when we were 10. “Dr. Banner seemed surprised. “Really? I’m happy you like it.”

Penny giggle a little, putting her brother back in her backpack. “Pleasure to meet you” She look at Captain Rogers. “Most of you.” With that she turned around hearing a sound like hitting someone and a low Auch.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Would you believe me if I told you my story {10}

Chapter summary; Now when the team know who the now recruit is, how will they react?

Pairing: Avengers x reader (will change over time)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 10/?

Word count; 3.065

Warnings; Swearing

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

SERIES MASTERLIST

Everyone had different expressions. Wilson was one of those who looked like he saw a ghost, his small jump and when he mouthed a geez, showed that he almost had. Romanoff almost seemed to be put in deep thought, however when you shifted slightly her eyes snapped up to look at you. It was when you saw her eyes that you understood what she’d thought about. She must’ve figured out a few things, they were only guesses until now when she’d puzzled them together. This proved to be somewhat right when she threw a quick glance at Barton, who nodded almost invisibly, a signal you didn’t know how to read fully.

Then there also were the ones who had irritated or almost outrageous expressions. The Captain showed a bit more reserved manner. The only thing visible showing what he thought was his clenched fist and jaw. Contrary to the restrained display the Captain showed, Stark was the opposite side of the coin.

”You got to be kidding with me!” He exclaimed standing up from his chair. He didn’t move further, giving the expression that he somehow tried containing his emotions. ”You can not be serious that she”, he pointed at you, a glare accompanying the statement. ”Will be the one joining us, when she, not more than hours ago came uninvited here, forcing a battle to unfold, threatening to kill us and then escaped!” Even though you wanted to wince to the harsh words, a flame lit inside your chest to a few of them. You took a step forward, some of the Avengers inching forward to the edge of their chairs, noticing the tense air which only continued to grow.

”Stark, I don’t know how much you can twist your words to make my visit seem worse then it intended and ended. I did not force any battle, it was a move you deemed worthy in the name of self-defence and therefore so was my escape, only an act of self-defence. And I did not for one second threaten to kill you, a thing you’ve gotten completely out of your own mind. If only you, like other of your teammates, could understand that”, you bit your tongue to leave out the last part of the sentence, into your stupid head.

You wouldn’t say you’re proud, but because your voice had been steady the whole way through and as cold as you could muster it to be, it had an effect. A few in the team looked like they almost agreed with minimal nods, other just quiet down. Although the one you wanted to shut up didn’t have any of those reactions.

”It seems like you say that you didn’t do anything wort for self-defence, but to remind you the ones you were one on one with, didn’t leave everything unaffected. Wanda, Bruce, Barnes”, he countered with, a near-deadly gleam in his eyes. It was then you understood who Barnes was, Bucky, the soldier. Taking a deep breath you set your thoughts in place which made you realise he maybe didn’t see his faltering points.

”Then does Maximoff seem harmed, does Banner. Barton doesn’t even show any signs of being harmed even though he’d been in my company the longest”, you answered him, not noticing your own slip before you saw something shift in Stark’s eyes. Instead of looking at you, he switched to Barton who sat a seat away from him.

”You found her and didn’t call”, the Captain inquired, before Stark could say anything and Barton only lifted his hands in surrender, not wanting to go against his Captain. This seemed to fuel Stark’s flame but before a tumult broke out Nick slammed his hands down into the table, making most wince at the sound.

”Shut your mouths!” he raised his voice. You knew it wasn’t time to argue further, others didn’t.

”You understand that this is serious”, the Captain spoke, he had stood up and now leaned forward in a similar motion as Nick. ”This was a matter surrounding peoples safety”

”I understand that very well, but I know that people were safe while choosing”, Nick answered, waiting a few seconds before he continued so his words would sink in. ”So sit down”, he ordered and the Captain did, however reluctantly. Although Stark continued to stand, watching Nick challengingly, something he didn’t enjoy. ”Sit your ass down Stark”, his voice was lowered but rang louder than before. His eyes narrowed when Stark didn’t move a muscle, instead just kept staring back.

”I won’t until you explain. You decide”, he challenged, making Nick sigh and raise himself to his full length. He crossed his arms, seemingly thinking about how he would explain this to Stark or if he even would give in. You knew he would tell them, but Stark’s attitude made it more difficult.

”I ordered Agent Barton not to tell that he found her”, he began but got cut off by Wilson.

”Do you have the authority to do so?” His arms were crossed and he almost looked judgmental.

”In orders surrounding the Avengers no, with SHIELD yes. This is a matter of both division but the information was highly classified within few people of SHIELD, so I had the authority to do so”, he answered the question, which possibly also would’ve been one of yours in the future. Before Barton had come by and interrupted at the compound, Nick hadn’t only worked with fixing things trough SHIELD with your arrival, but also the Avengers.

”Then why didn’t we, as the actual Avengers, know this high authority information if it actually was something which included us?” Stark questioned, his tense stance hadn’t changed, a furrow between his brows perhaps the only thing.

”Even though you were a part of the initiative, you don’t know everything behind it”, Nick stated, obvious to where the discussion would head.

”So you’re saying that’s she’s the one?” Romanoff spoke up, one of her eyebrows raised in something which almost looked like curiosity.

”One of few, but defiantly a main one”

”How so?” The brown-haired witch chimed in. Even though she wasn’t in the original Avengers initiative, you presumed she’d been told bits and pieces about everything.

”Most of you were gathered because you would fight the battles we couldn’t. The reasons are that the threats we’ve seen throughout the years are more than we would’ve been able to handle. We’ve got the knowledge we ain’t the only ones in this universe, countless times those others have shown us they had more firepower then we did. Every time forces clashed here on earth it became devastating”, you reacted to what Nick said, primarily when your gaze lingered on one person. You tuned out of the conversation.

So you studied Loki, the one which seemed to react the most to what Nick had said besides yourself. His jaw clenched, his eyes seemingly becoming hazy as if he thought back to an old memory, but more than that you couldn’t really tell. It felt like something had shifted in the room when Nick pointed out the devastating effects other forces have had to earth. Even though you didn’t know for sure what he thought about, the fleeting memory of what Loki had done to New York made you believe that it was the event which came to his mind. The effects of those had become larger then anyone could ever believe. Many, even to this day, probably couldn’t let go of the horrors they encountered that day. All because of one man, which now defended the same planet he tried to invade. You weren’t the only one which reacted to the news about Loki becoming a protector of this world. But when the Avengers themselves spoke for it, it somehow seemed to ease peoples worry. You never really trusted it. No facts of why or how. It only came as news, no room to argue. Like lightning from a clear sky.

You could only track more and more similarities between yours and Lokis arrival to the team, only that the world knows what he has done.

What brought you out of your thoughts was somebody who seemed to get out of their own. Lokis gaze seemed to clear up and the coldness from his steel eyes snatched you back to reality. You blinked a few times, clearing your head of the thoughts you just had, then focusing back on him. As you looked back into his eyes it seemed like they sparked and twisted, even though he didn’t move or the light changed. It made it hard to concentrate on him as well it seemed to lure you in. Swiftly, but not entirely easy, you shifted to look at Nick. You felt the raven god’s gaze linger a bit longer, but instead of the warm feeling you so often got when somebody did that, it felt cool almost to the brink of cold. Trying to suppress the feeling of his eyes, as well as become painfully aware that more gazes shifted to you, you listened to Nick.

”You very well know that some opposing forces became allies others don’t, some stay hidden others don’t”

”And why stay hidden?” Stark, which you until now hadn’t noticed had sat down, although on the front of his chair, questioned.

”The same reasons as many, even you did Stark”, his eyes snapped to you when you began, as an instinct his eyes narrowed. ”Because of safety and the fear of hurting people”

”But I showed myself to the world”, his answer came as fast as you said the last word, your following shortly after.

”And I applaud you for that”, he scowled at the answer and you felt your chest reverberate as you tried holding back an annoyed huff when he once more opened his mouth, but he hadn't a chance to same something.

”Some stay hidden for those reasons, or just to hide from the public eye”, Nick cut him off and you felt the pointed glare he gave you. ”Some are better off the table until the right time come, to simply not get manipulated by society”, he ended and it seemed some of the words he used got noticed by them.

”If society wants to manipulate them, there must be a cause”, the Captains voice rang out, he didn’t lift his stare from the table until the room had fallen silent. As he looked up, his eyes switched between looking at you and Nick, his eyes following a movement you only understood when it landed on your shoulder. Nick’s hand rested there, encouraging you to now take over.

”And there defiantly is”, you began, taking a deep breath before continuing telling them things you lived with your whole life. ”Society becomes blind to power, either if it’s to use it or annihilate it. If all that power were stored in someone you know you had a chance to persuade, the stakes only rise. Is the chance worth the risk? Are we ready to fight for it? Closer to the truth would be are we ready to lose it? Whatever the answer is, what they battle for would be on the losing side. I would always be on the losing side. If it so would be tamed or dead”, you stopped for a second, to let your words sink in before continuing. ”Not many understand that not everything can be tamed. Fewer understand that sometimes it isn’t even worth to try, even fewer accept those that things aren’t tamed can live free”, Nick’s hand gripped your shoulder tighter, but you knew it wasn’t a reaction towards you. Your words yes, but not your action, only his own. You knew the words you used were the same as you thought to yourself when leaving SHIELD.

”So you’re saying you’re something that can’t be tamed?” Your eyes switched to meet Lokis. They seemed to swirl even more now, but you couldn’t tell if it was of curiosity or something else.

”The power can’t be tamed”, was your answer to which he cocked an eyebrow to, head tilting minimally, reminding you of a puppy.

”And you suggest that she will become an Avenger?” Stark huffed out.

”With due respect, is her joining the really best if she is a force to not be reckoned with?” Thor's words seemed to convey the same message as Stark's, only that the god said it with respect.

”The decision is already made and nothing can change it”, Fury stated, his hand falling from your shoulder.

”You said yourself you can’t take orders over the Avengers, but still you do. A bit hypocrisy don’t you think.” Stark pointed out, to which Nick only shook his head.

”I never said the decision was made recently”

”So when?” Banner asked he’d been silent a long time which you only guessed had something to do with what Stark pointed out.

”When the Avengers Initiative was formed”, his curt answer already seemed to be figured out by the redhead, but if Barton somehow had confirmed things already to his friend you had no idea.

”You mean?” Romanoff began, the end of the sentence left hanging as Nick ended it.

”She was one of the original members of the Avengers Initiative”

”Oh God, this is just getting better!” Stark exclaimed to which Barton’s muffled chuckle was heard. Stark shot him a deadly glare, mouthing something to the archer which you couldn’t make out, but it was enough for the man to stop and shrug his shoulders.

”Better it always could be Stark, she’s the only one that made this whole circus roll and the only one stopping it from doing so”

”What do you mean?” Captain asked, his voice sounding strained. The only answer he got was a shake of Nick’s head, dismissing the topic the question would lead to.

”Do you mean that there’s no way we could get out of this, she will be joining us no matter what?” Stark’s defeated voice sought.

”Did I stutter?” Nick asked, sounding almost as worn out as Stark. However, the billionaire only raised himself from his seat, throwing one glance at you which almost was filled with equal amount of venom as a snake. The situation wasn't good, but you couldn’t do anything to soothe it.

”Fine then! Let another maniac which can’t be controlled stay here, the safest place for everyone but us is it!?” He threw his hands up agitated, the deep furrow which he sported between his brows this whole time seemed to deepen even more. ”Don’t think I’ll support this, I’ve already done it once and learned my lesson then”, he continues on as he stalked towards the door.

”This meeting ain’t over…”  

”Well, it damn well is for now!” Stark called behind him as he opened the door and headed out. Nick just shook his head, while you bit your lip to not say something about the billionaire’s attitude.

”What will we do?” Vision asked, probably the question which everyone with stunned expressions had. Unlike you, they understood what Stark’s references came from.

”I think it will be best to continue tomorrow, it isn't so long until then and most of us need to rest anyways”, the Captain explained which many nodded to. The blonde man glanced towards Nick, his eyes only catching yours shortly, and when he didn’t give any signs of refusing his suggestion, he continued.

”We’ll meet down in the common room tomorrow morning, everyone should be there, no excuses”

”Steve…”

”No excuses” he stood firm when the redhead tried to say something, neither backing down when they looked at each other. ”We need to finish this, it’s going to go through whatever we do. So we’ll do it our way”

”I was just going to say that it may be better to continue now. We don’t want anything more to happen”, Romanoff patiently told him what she tried to earlier, a quick glance towards you in the end.

”If we don’t provoke anything, it should be fine”, he said it as a statement, but shifted his gaze and searched yours as a confirmation, you nodded, somewhat thankful for the bit of trust the Captain gives you. Romanoff didn’t seem utterly convinced, however, but Nick’s verbally response seemed to cease that.

”He’s right”, it convinced her and the redheaded spy stood from her chair with a nod, a confirmation of the answer and as an excuse. She walked towards the exit, Barton following her suit. This the rest of the team took it as a final word to the meeting, warily standing from their chairs and making their way out. Some glanced at you before turning their back, others didn’t. Only a few made neither, their stride much like how they usually were.

As the Captain raised himself from the chair, almost the last to do so, Wilson did as well. The two gave each other a look and where to exit the room, holding off a conversation until doing so it seemed. Then something shocked you, Nick made a last request.

”Captain, can I have a word with you?” The blonde man seemed to be as surprised as you when he turned around, eyes wider then they’d been before. He looked straight at Nick, his face going neutral while doing so. He turned around, nodding at Wilson to continue and even though it was so brief, it felt like they had a whole conversation from it alone.

So instead of walking out of the room as intended, he walked into it once more. He didn’t sit down, the feeling in the room none less tense than before even though most of the team had left. His eyes shifted from Nick to you as he stopped a few feet away. You felt like his eyes studieding you should’ve made you nervous, uncomfortable or all synonyms to those, but they didn’t. It wasn’t like Loki’s cold but intriguing eyes, it wasn’t like Stark’s venomous ones, neither like the shifting one’s of the Soldier. They were calm, albeit tired. You could almost see your own reflection in them. This somehow made you nervous, that his eyes actually held such a calm. But when he spoke and didn’t shift his gaze from yours, it made you take an unconscious step back.

”What do you want?”

Taglist: @krystallynx @haven-in-writing @flowerchild1216​ @lancsnerd​ @ohhhmyloki​

[dontcallmecarrie]

Whisper of Every Waking Hour, Pt. 2/2

This is part two, just fyi. Might not make much sense otherwise. [Under the cut because I get very, very rambly.]

Pairing: Steve/Tony

Warnings: same as last time, with my take on Hanahaki disease, unrequited love and angst […dealing with Hanahaki, here. Comes with the package, even if there’s a happy ending to this mess], mention of symptoms of an eating disorder [suspected only, not a thing], and feat. demiromantic Tony with the self-confidence of a toothpick. Plus some profanity, of the ‘fuck my life’ and ‘what the hell’ variety

———

Suffice it was to say, the procedure was successful.

———

Afterwards, Tony felt relief. And an acute case of embarrassment, because seriously? He’d had that bad of a crush on a teammate? On Captain America, of all people? Good thing nobody’d talk, because...wow. Talk about awkward.

Pepper sometimes shoots him a strange look. Rhodey, too. Slightly pitying, even if he’d thought that had stopped years ago, and wow his traitorous heart was still screwing him over in the worst ways, wasn’t it? [Like the palladium hadn’t been enough.]

On the plus side, it seemed like removing...it hadn’t affected their friendship as much as he’d feared. Oh, sure, there was some new awkwardness and misunderstandings, and the team shot him a few strange looks at times, but nowhere near the complete unraveling of a relationship like Tony had originally feared. Nice.

The team’s really meshing now, and getting going, and now that Tony doesn’t need to worry about his heart killing him again it’s so, very easy to start to ease back in. And lower his guard again, because these people have already gotten past it already and what was the harm, now?

So he starts upping the chatter again, starts sticking around more, starts easing off the “board meetings” because he didn’t want the embarrassment of the team finding out of his stupid crush, even if he’d had it taken care of. Or, worse, their pity, and Steve had enough on his plate without learning of something that was in the past, and it’d be super awkward to say ‘hey, so you’re my best friend but I was in love with you for a while’, so nope. Besides.

Things are great, better than ever, even.

———

Tony starts spending more time with the team, again, and hanging out with Steve when the rest of the team’s out. Baseball season’s in full swing, and Tony has a good time needling Steve and in return Steve figuratively drags Tony out of the lab and to whatever restaurant he saw on his run, and experimenting with takeout, and Tony’s happy things are getting back to normal. Sure, sometimes he gets a phantom itch at the back of his throat, but that was psychosomatic, probably. Or pollen, because he’d had his crush removed, there was no way he could have feelings of that sort for Steve again.

The team’s really part of his family now: Natasha can see through more of his masks than he should be comfortable with, and vice versa, Bruce’s...Bruce, enough said, and Clint’s turning out to nerd out over physics more than expected and is in the running for being the one to make Fury snap if Tony doesn’t get there first.

They’re learning about each other, in bits and pieces. Like how Natasha’s abysmal with kids but Clint’s good enough for the both of them, how Thor’s actually a secret troll because he totally knew what he was saying to that reporter, don’t even lie, and Bruce and Tony both have a nonexistent sense of self-preservation in the face of science and someone should check up on them during the 36-hour-mark just in case.

Part of Tony's slightly alarmed at just how much they’re learning about him, actually, but...well, they’re family. Families know about the worst of each other, don't they?

———

It’s another baseball game, when the phantom itch returns. Steve’s luck acts up and he ends up catching the foul ball with his bare hands, and ends up needing to borrow Tony’s pen because they’d been trying to be incognito before the cameras picked up on Iron Man and Captain America being in attendance and a lot of people wanted his autograph. It’s a good game, a fun time all around—the sun is shining, weather’s great for going to Central Park afterwards, and this time it’s Tony cracking a joke that has Steve doubling over laughing, before looking over at him with that smile. Tony’s not sure why part of his chest tenses up, just a little, but shrugs it off as the arc reactor acting up again, and continues bantering.

It was a great day, all around.

Tony’s getting ready for movie night when the coughing fit hits. This time, when he removes his handkerchief, part of him is almost unsurprised to see the small yellow petals dotting its surface. Almost.

[Yellow Tulip: there’s sunshine in your smile]

“That...can’t be right. J, are you seeing this? That can’t—that’s impossible!”

“Searching every database accessible for supplementary data. This is unprecedented.”

“How?! I thought—J, make an appointment with that surgeon’s team, see if we can clear this up. Let Pepper and Rhodey know, too, this is...”

“Consider it done—Sir, the team is expressing the concern that you will be late for the viewing of the film selected. It appears Mr. Barton has won the coin toss, and Jurassic Park will be playing in five minutes.”

Tony leaned back, and bit his lip.

He’d made a point of going to movie night unless he was in the hospital, or on one of the board meetings he’d genuinely needed to attend, so they’d know something was off if he skipped...then again, Hanahaki. [Fuck.] He was probably off-kilter enough that Natasha would see right through him right now.

“Tell them something came up. Emergency thing that needs me stat, maybe an experiment in R&D went wrong or corporate espionage or something, I don’t care. Say I’m sorry, but can’t make it.” He said, and made his way to the roof.

He needed to get out. Didn’t matter where, just...away. Until he was able to figure out just what chinks he had in his armor, at least.

———

Turns out it’s probably the arc reactor, that’s at the root at all this mess. Literally. [Isn’t it always?]

“—so the doctors think the...it, you know,” he gestured vaguely at his chest while talking to a very pale Pepper and Rhodey on camera from the safety of his nigh-abandoned family mansion, “probably has some roots wrapped around the arc reactor somehow. They can’t get rid of every last bit the way the procedure normally does.”

“So it’s happening again? You’re going to have to go through it, again?” Pepper asked, and Tony winced at her tone.

“I’ve already asked about the odds of it resurging. They’re saying that apart from this being unprecedented, my best bet’s trying to move on, and if not...well, it’s not like I can’t I can afford the surgeries.” As long as his body held up to the strain, he didn’t say. [He didn’t need to.]

Rhodey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tones, I—this is—”

“Literally everything I was trying to avoid? Yes, I know, honeybunch.”

“We’d thought you were safe! That the team had your back, that even if you weren't interested in finding someone you’d be okay and happy. But this?”

Tony couldn’t help the wry quirk of his smile. “I know the odds of my moving on aren’t great, but I'm working on it. And the surgery’s already scheduled for six months, just in case, you’re not losing me that way, you two. My heart can’t hate me that much, can it?”

———

Tony returned to the tower soon afterwards, and proceeded to alarm the team over the span of the next few months. Well—not the entire team, and it varied, but still: the resident chatterbox’s slowly withdrawing into himself was not missed by anyone.

Even when he put up his masks, the team noticed. What’s more, since they knew him now, even if they couldn’t see past his mask they could see just how far it went, and it scared them.

Clint popped in every so often to ask if he was okay, Bruce had quietly patted him on the shoulder and said, “if you ever need help just let me know. The Other Guy, too”, before giving him space, and even if Thor wasn’t always around, he’d still found the time to give Tony a hearty thump on the shoulder and express his support.

Steve, meanwhile, was around more often, dropping in with takeout and coffee if it was early enough, giving him looks of concern when he thought Tony didn’t notice, and the pang of guilt hurt nearly as much as the coughing fit afterwards.

But it’s only Natasha who figures it out.

“Who?” Is all she asks, as she quietly offers him the mug of chamomile after he suppresses the violent itch in his throat because no way was he coughing in public if he could help it, nope [no way he was alarming his family more than he already was].

Tony looks at her, and registers the feigned casualness even as she's holding the same type of tea he only ever drinks alone because he’s trying to be discreet about this entire mess. Then, he pastes on a smile as he enters his lab.

“Does it really matter? Won’t be a problem soon.”

“Because you’re telling them, because you’re getting it out, or...”

“The surgery’s scheduled for this Thursday.” Tony answers after a heavy pause, and the flicker of something in her gaze really shouldn’t have put him on edge the way it was. But he forged onwards, because this was Natasha, sister in all but blood, who was in the same boat as he was since he’d refined the art of masks to the point where not even he knew just where it ended and he began. “How’d you figure it out, anyway?”

“You have this habit of using a handkerchief when you cough, and it’s stained yellow. Now, you’ve been using mouthwash and breath mints, and sometimes you forget to eat, but I don’t think you’re bulimic, since the former are new and you only ever forget to eat during an engineering binge, and even then you usually have something to snack on. Conclusion? It’s from something else.”

Then, she leaned in, took him by the shoulders, and looked him in the eye unyieldingly, as the worry in her voice grew. “It’s Steve, isn’t it.”

Tony was glad it was just the two of them, then. He’d been caught off-guard enough that his mask was jarred, and he hadn’t thought it was possible for a human throat to make the noise Natasha did when she saw the answer in his eyes.

“Tony, you need to tell him!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Tony, you’re worrying everyone, Thor thinks it’s depression even if he doesn’t say it, Bruce can help, and Steve—”

“No! This is my problem, and I’m dealing with it. Steve’s got enough on his plate, he doesn’t need do know.”

“Tony, you’re going in for something you’re never going to be able to undo—”

“Actually, no.” Tony couldn’t help but cut in with a sudden, bitter smile. “Arc reactor. Damn thing’s roots somehow tangled in with it, as far as I can tell. It’ll only grow back if I can’t get over it, which apparently I can’t because I’m some sort of broken mess who can’t even love right, because the first time I fall for someone I can’t even fucking get over them even if it kills me—”

“Tony, you’re not broken.”

To which he was about to reply, “Could’ve fooled me,” if the coughing fit hadn’t hit, and suddenly he can’t keep it in, so Natasha gets an eyeful of bloodstained yellow tulip petals as they stream out of his mouth.

Once he’s done, he doesn’t make eye contact again, just grimaces down at the mess to keep from seeing the pity in her eyes.

Even as he goes through the now-rote motions, however, cleaning it up and incinerating the evidence, Natasha moves to help. Supports him as he stumbles his way to the bathroom, gets the mouthwash out of the counter so he doesn’t have to bend down. Once he’s done, she hands him the now-lukewarm tea, and he downs it without pause, as he heads to his desk.

“Thanks.”

“I still think you should tell him. But...it’s up to you in the end. Just...take care of yourself, Tony.”

And with that, patted him on the arm carefully, then made to head out, but not before giving him a significant look when Steve popped in and brightened when he saw Tony.

“Tony, are you— oh, hi, Natasha.”

“Oh, I was just on my way out. Thanks for the updates on the Bites, Tony. Steve, he’s got that board meeting coming up and a deadline to meet, so now might not be the best time to ask him about that movie.” She said with an easy smile, and Tony smiled and played along, easy as breathing, and tamped down on the surge of warmth and guilt that followed.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been tempted to tell Steve,  either, but...then he’d started talking about meeting with Aunt Peggy and her niece, Sharon, and Tony hadn’t been able to get the nerve to broach the subject after hearing the wistfulness in his voice.

———

The procedure went as well as expected.

———

Tony was so damn mortified, after the fact. Again?! He’d fucking fallen for Captain America, again. Great. Just great.

Especially since now it’s also Natasha who’s giving him the same damn looks as Pepper and Rhodey, and oh man she knew, didn’t she? About not just his past crush, but the potential for...oh, great.

“Any tips for what I can do?” Tony found himself asking Rhodey and JARVIS, once. “Because apparently I���m not aro like I thought I was, and apparently I have a type—even if it sounds incredibly awkward to say it out loud, wow.”

Rhodey leaned back with a groan. “Not sure what to tell you, Tones. Other than meet other people, I guess? I mean, it’s not like you can control your heart.”

Tony resisted the urge to scream in frustration. Instead, he settled for a deadpan stare, tacked on a smile, and said, “You don’t say.”

“Sorry, Tones.”

“I mean...that’s just it, right? I need to meet more people? How the fuck am I supposed to do that, when. I need to like someone before—”

“Hey, don’t look at me, man, I’d be a wingman if you needed me, but...”

“I don’t swing that way, because I’m not even if the damn game apparently except for Steve, right. Fuck.”

“Sir, if I may?”

“Yes, J?”

“I do believe Ms. Romanov had expressed a similar interest in assisting you. Shall I contact her?”

“Sure. The more the merrier, apparently. Either that, or misery loves company. Both work.”

———

Natasha had been trying to set Steve up for ages, before she’d found out about Tony’s...problem, as he so put it. Since then, she’d backed off,  but now that her help was really being needed, turns out that her job was even harder than she thought.

On a number of levels, even: Tony trusted her to keep his secret even if she burned to let Steve know [because it’d fix everything], the team thought she’d simply shifted her matchmaking efforts instead of it being a matter of life and death, and Tony’s heart just loved to give her a headache, didn’t it.

“Sorry, Nat.” Tony apologized, after a particularly bad first-and-only date.

“What was it this time?”

“She was mean to the waitress, I couldn’t...”

“Got it.” Natasha said as she crossed yet another name off her list.

The only sliver lining she could find was that Steve’d looked slightly dismayed, as the steady stream of dates Tony went on meant that they cut into the time the two usually spent together. Even if it was cruel to Steve, at this point Natasha would take what she could get if it meant she didn’t have to worry about Tony choking to death.

———

However, the steady stream of dates also had some side-effects.

For instance, the team’s curiosity. After all, while at first it’d seemed like she’d merely shifted from Steve to Tony, now after the...was it nineteenth(?) date, it was clear something was different.

“You a love them and leave them type, or something?” Clint asked, after a particularly memorable encounter had Tony arriving at the tower and making a beeline for the shower to get the glitter off.

“Or something,” he called down the hall.

Later, he explained. “That ‘or something?’ I’m demiromantic.”

“...and that means what to me?”

“Means he’s giving me a hard time finding him a significant other, what with his not liking someone if he doesn’t click with them first.” Natasha cut in, bumping a shoulder against both Clint and Tony.

“Wait, that’s a thing?”

“Yes,” Natasha replied with a sweet smile that fooled absolutely no one in the room, “it is. And it is a headache for me.”

“Hey, you’re the one that volunteered for this mission.”

“And I’ll do it, it’s just even harder than I thought. You turned down Monica for her...what was it, again?”

“Other way around, and because I’m not vegan. The glitter came from her roommate, by the way.”

“...always something.” She muttered darkly as she pulled out her list again.

Steve, who’d been overhearing it, couldn’t help but cut in, then.

“But why are you even trying to date so much in the first place?”

Tony didn’t look at Natasha, just said the first thing that popped into his mind. “Lost a bet.”

“Really.” Steve’s disbelief was audible.

“Really, Cap, have you seen this woman drink vodka?” Tony gestured, and mentally gave a sigh of relief when he bought it.

———

Things were good, things were great.

The dates were annoying, though, especially as time went on and still there was something that rubbed him wrong with each one. Annoying, but necessary, since he didn’t want to ruin one of the best friendships in his life, and/ or get frequent flier miles at the surgeon.

...unfortunately, it seemed like life had it out for him.

The problem, ironically enough, was that they simply made that good a team. Tony trusted him to have his back, and vice versa, and the banter on the comms was sometimes one of the highlights of his day [Fury’s Vein: 0, Clint and Tony: 1]. The team-building exercises are redundant, and by now most of the villains know better than to think that hurting one of them won’t result in the other’s raining hell.

Sometimes it’s like they don't even need to talk, to let the other know what they’re about to do, and more than once Steve and Tony had been compared to Clint and Natasha on the field, simply because how synchronized they could get, and the comms alternated between chatter and non-sequiturs as they pulled off stunt after stunt to save the day,

They take down the next villain running around New York, same as ever, and debrief, same as ever, and it’s not until Tony’s in his lab fixing the dents in his armor that he feels the itch in the back of his throat.

“J, get Natasha here, stat.” He manages to get out, before the coughing fit hits, and this time isn’t even surprised when he sees the red dotting his handkerchief’s surface. Not blood [not yet], but flower petals.

[Red Rose: I love you]

———

In the hours and emergency conference call that followed, Pepper, Natasha, and Rhodey were all updated on the situation, and JARVIS already had the surgery scheduled in advance. There were tears, and quite a bit of yelling, and when Pepper found an ally in trying to get Tony to talk to Steve about it, even more yelling.

It wasn’t pretty, or fair, and his family didn’t deserve what he was putting them through, again, and he was so damn sorry for it.

He still insisted on at least trying to go on more dates, though, to see if that helped any. Long odds, but it was either that or leaving the team if this kept happening because he loved them but at this rate, the strain on his body from the arc reactor and...it would end up killing him, and that...he’d sworn not to put his family through it.

It was so, very hard, though.

Especially since the team knew him even better now, and apparently he’d done a shit job of hiding his issues last time so they’d been keeping an eagle eye on him and the moment things started to go down a familiar path, they noticed immediately.

This time, hiding it was all but impossible.

Resisting the urge to cough was something Tony had gotten used to, but now it’s not just Natasha who’s noticing it; Clint’s codename isn’t Hawkeye for nothing, and for all of Thor’s boisterous nature, he was remarkably astute. And Tony suspected that Bruce might’ve figured it out last time, actually, since even if he hadn’t said anything he’d stopped commenting about the smell of flowers, even if Tony knew just how much he’d reeked of tulips towards the end, last time.

But nobody says anything, until the next Steve’s out on another run and Tony’s biting his tongue to keep ignoring the itch at the back of his throat.

“You can let it out, you know. Steve’s the only one who hasn’t figured it out.” Clint says, rolling one of the experimental arrows between his fingers. “Not sure how, to be honest. Once you mentioned the demi thing, it was easy putting together the pieces.”

———

The following talk, once Tony’s done spitting out the rose petals, somehow attracts the rest of the team, and he suspected JARVIS had something to do with it because Bruce had mentioned a new project earlier that day and yet ‘coincidentally’ wound up in the kitchen where the rest of them were.

Turns out that yes, the rest of the team had figured it out, individually. Fuck.

On the plus side, it meant he had more people willing to help. On the other hand, he’d done his level best to keep them from worrying, and this just undid nearly all the effort that’d gone into hiding it. Almost, because Steve, at least, hadn’t figured it out, which was something Tony was forever grateful for.

“What I don't understand is why you haven’t talked to him yet,” Bruce says once, when they’re collaborating on another project.

“He’s got enough issues without my adding to them. Last time I tried to broach the subject, he mentioned Peggy.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Nothing like bringing up the almost-ex who I also see as an aunt because she was around more than the old man was, right? Besides, it’s obvious he doesn’t see me that way.” No, there wasn’t a trace of bitterness in there, nope, not at all.

“Does he know that gender isn’t an—”

“He was there when I brought up the demi thing, yep.”

“...huh.”

“Thanks for trying, though. Appreciate it.”

———

Tony starts quieting down again, because if he talks too much the itch in his throat gets harder to ignore.

He still goes on dates when he can, at coffeeshops and galas, but nothing helps: his...problem is only growing by the day, every morning Steve greets him with a mug of coffee just the way he likes it, every movie night when they’re arguing over whether they should put on Star Wars for the nth time, every time they pull off another successful mission.

What he doesn't know is that the worry is eating Steve alive.

Because this is the second time now, that he’s noticed Tony pulling away. The second time that he’s being less and less social, looking more tired, looking paler, and Steve doesn’t know what to do. He can tell the team’s hiding something but he can’t figure out what and it’s driving him up the wall.

Steve notices the glances, notices the pauses when the team’s talking to Tony and he's in the room sometimes, and they’re keeping something from him and normally, he’d be okay with that. But now, his best and closest friend since he got pulled out from the ice is fading in front of his eyes, and he can’t do a thing about it.

He tries to ask around, but the team deflects everything, and every time he tries to directly confront Tony about it, the man somehow manages to distract him every damn time, and...what was he doing wrong?

———

Tony would have been content with ignoring...it until the day he died. Would have been content with hiding it as much as possible.

However, circumstances forced his hand.

The surgery was coming up, and he’d finally started to back off on the date attempts because just making it through the day was hard enough now, without putting on a show for total strangers, and Tony’s not sure if the rose thorns or shrapnel pose a bigger threat to his health, now, because the coughing fits are a special sort of hell.

That the team knew meant he’d been able to lower his guard, and even if he hated alarming them, the stream of red petals didn’t care about where they made an appearance.

He’d lowered his guard, and it turned out to be his undoing.

———

Tony had been mid-coughing fit, and Natasha had been rubbing circles onto his back to help the ache, when they heard the footsteps, and JARVIS’ attempt to delay the inevitable.

It wasn’t enough.

“—no, I need to talk to—” Steve was saying, even as he started to open the door, before freezing and flinging it open without regard to his strength, and surging in, worry in every line of his face. “Tony!”

“Oh, fuck.” Tony couldn’t help but mutter, in one of the rare moments he had between coughs. There was no way Steve could’ve missed it, and there was no deterring Captain America when he was on a mission.

Dammit, he should’ve put his lab on lockdown the moment he felt the itch, the way he’d used to before, but he’d been weak and hadn’t wanted to be alone for this, but...fuck. Fuck! He leaned more into Natasha, as the footsteps approached him, and focused on coughing into his handkerchief instead of looking at the face of everything he’d done his level best to avoid. Fuck, if he didn’t drown in flowers it’d be the guilt that got him, he just knew it.

“Tony, are you—do you need me to call Medical? Where’s the bleeding? Natasha, what—those are roses. What’s going on?”

Every word felt like a jackhammer to his heart, and Tony couldn’t help but curl into Natasha even more, because....fuck. And he couldn't say a word, because the rose petals just kept coming and Steve was watching him and—

“Tony, just focus on getting it all out.” Natasha said evenly, still rubbing circles onto his back and not looking away either, “Steve, later. We’re kinda busy right now, please step back and give him some space.”

Tony nodded and Steve lurched back as if burned, and even if he was focused on just surviving this latest round of...it, he couldn’t help but hear the conversation going on without him as he focused his breathing the way he’d learned in Afghanistan, and practiced countless times since.

“-not the first time it’s happened. Is this what you guys were keeping from-”

“Not now, Steve.”

“How long?” And the agony in his voice was doing Tony absolutely no favors, at all.

“-didn’t want to worry you-”

“My best friend is dying in front of me and none of you—”

“Steve, don’t.” Tony managed to say, once the worst of it was past. “It’s on me, I was the one that asked.”

“Tony—”

“Now’s not a good time, Steve. It’s not over yet.” Natasha cut in, and Tony really didn’t deserve these people in his life, wow. [Also: oh great, Natasha knew him well enough to know how this usually went? So much for not making her worry...crap.]

As he focused on getting the last, stubborn petals out, he heard Steve’s quiet, “Is there anything I can help with?”

“...water bottle or mouthwash, if you don’t mind. JARVIS should have the tea ready soon.”

“Right.” And with that, Steve all-but-ran to get it.

“This is going to suck, isn’t it.” Tony muttered, and didn’t flinch when Natasha wrapped him up in a quiet hug.

“Want me to stick around?”

“I...don’t know.”

———

By the time Steve came back, Tony’d managed to mostly regain his composure. He didn’t look like he was dying anymore, at least, and between cleaning up the mess on the bench and putting away the handkerchief, there was next to no hint of the sea of red Steve had walked in on.

Natasha hadn’t left his side since before he’d started the coughing fit, and Tony’s fairly certain she’s the only reason he’s not hyperventilating about the upcoming talk as she’s quietly reassuring him even as she’s always got a hand on his shoulder, or arm, to remind him he’s not alone, and...it helps.

Even if part of him can’t help but feel that there’s no way it can end well, because this was the exact scenario he’d been trying to avoid, but...he could do this. [He had to.]

———

Steve’s footsteps were deafening in the otherwise-silent lab, and faltered when he saw them. Them, and the pristine bench, but he pressed onwards and pulled up a chair after giving Tony the water bottle.

Then, he leaned forward, and in a tone that was very carefully not accusing, not angry, not reproachful, just resolved—said, “How long.”

Tony...didn’t know what to say.

But Steve deserved an answer, even if it was ugly. Even if he hated it, and part of Tony’s heart was breaking because he knew that this would be the thing to ruin their friendship, if he hadn’t before. This would be what made one of the relationships he treasured the most into an awkward mess, would be what made Steve back off once he learned how Tony felt about him.

“Tony, want me to—” Natasha asked, and Tony felt another surge of warmth even as Steve’s face darkened because odds were he was already putting together the pieces, between Natasha’s attempts at matchmaking and Tony’s...problem, and he knew she was all but allergic to emotion and this talk would be...dicey.

“No, this is...I think I can handle it.” He waved her off, and she gave him one last pat on the arm before getting up.

“Good luck, you two.” She said, shot Steve an unreadable look, and left.

Tony let his eyes track her path, instead of looking at Steve, as he started. “Don’t hate the team, I was the one who asked. And for the record, I didn’t tell them either; they all figured it out by themselves.”

“The dates.” Steve breathed, and yep, it was all coming together. [Fuck.]

“Natasha was the first to know, yes. And I asked her not to tell. Although, Cap? I’d have though you’d have been happy she focused on me instead of you.”

“Tony, this isn’t—” Steve cut himself off, and took a deep breath. Then, in a more measured voice, continued, “I was worried, for the longest time. You weren’t—and then the team—”

“I didn’t want you to worry. Any of you. I’m sorry.”

“For not telling me, or that I found out?”

“Sir, the tea is ready.” JARVIS cut in, saving them both from the sudden silence, and Tony made to get up before Steve glared at him to stay put, before moving to get it himself.

Once he was alone, Tony leaned forward and rubbed his temples. Man, he was no less cut out for this sort of talk than Natasha was, like, at all. Cutthroat board meetings? Check. Dealings with plausibly-deniable warlords who might or might not have been vetted by government agencies? Sure, even if he wan’t proud of the Merchant of Death. This, however?

Houston, he was so not ready for it. But Steve deserved an answer.

By the time Steve returned, chipped mug of chamomile in hand, Tony had mostly pulled himself together again, and already formulated several possible battle plans and escape routes...that all evaporated the moment Steve set foot in the room. Apparently, though, he was able to spot the exhaustion on his face, and after he passed Tony the tea, paused.

“Tony, are you...would you rather we talk about this later?”

“Steve, trust me. This has been a long time in coming. Just hit me with it.”

“Just...who? You’d mentioned you were demiromantic, but I would have thought that Hanahaki disease wouldn’t...”

Right. The crux of the matter. Because Steve was nothing if not direct.

Tony took a sip of tea to both fortify himself and get some time to think about how to best word his answer, before mentally going ‘fuck it’, and dove in.

“Yes, I’m demi. Doesn’t mean I can’t fall in love, though, Steve.” He said, and quirked a corner of his mouth at the irony.

“But the dates...just...who?! You’re—Tony, you’re dying from roses. I can’t— is there anything—”

“Easy, Cap, it’s not that easy, or simple.” Tony cut him off, before he said anything he would regret once he found out. “You don't know who it is. And who’s to say I’ll die from it?”

“Tony. Stop deflecting. Who.”

It took every shred of resolve he had, for Tony to look Steve in the eye, for that. To force himself to answer truthfully, because this friendship was one of the things he’d treasured the most, and Steve deserved the truth even if his stupid, traitorous heart ruined everything.

“I’m so, so sorry, Steve.” He said, and bit the bullet. “I’m sorry. It’s...it’s you. It’s always been you.”

The look of dawning horror on Steve’s face broke his heart, and he could only bear to look at it for a few seconds before looking down at his hands.

“I’m sorry, if it ruins anything—I really value your friendship. I’m sorry.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and gritted his teeth because his throat suddenly had a lump in it and Tony wasn’t sure if it was another round of coughing or simply the urge to cry, and shook his head as he stood up.

Not looking at Steve, anymore, he started to make his way out, already making plans to take the suit out for a flight, or something. “I—I’ve got a surgery scheduled, in a few weeks. Things’ll be back to normal, after that. I’m sorry. If you’re uncomfortable, I understand. I know you don’t think of me that way, and I’m sorry for causing you so much stress.”

He gave Steve one last smile, on his way out, still ignoring the look on his face because that first flash of horror had been more than enough, and fled.

———

It was late, when Tony finally returned from his flight.

He’d ignored no less than fifteen phone calls and forty-eight text messages from Pepper, Rhodey, and the team, and nearly his entire flight was a blur, but...he’d needed the space, after ruining one of the best friendships he’d had in his life. Now, even if he was still off-kilter from it, at least his defenses were at least existing again, and maybe he might even be able to look Steve in the eye after a month or so.

It’s not until after he’s finished removing the armor, however, that he realizes he’s not alone on the rooftop.

“You never did let me answer, you know.” A quiet voice says, and Tony had not expected a heart attack to be the thing that did him in.

Then, he shores his pitiful defenses up, and does his best to play along. “Sorry, I’ve never been good at rejection.”

“I can see that.”

“Can you.”

“I mean, you ran off before I could say a thing.” Steve said, and started to approach him slowly, telegraphing every movement.

“Right.” Tony was rooted to the spot, and wasn’t even sure why. Maybe because his heart’s breaking took up so much of his focus, even now. Yeah, that was probably it.

“You’d never said a thing, Tony.” And now there was a gentle weight on Tony’s arm, and part of Tony wanted to lean in so, very badly.

He sighed. “Like I said, didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Even if it was killing you.”

“Not the first time it’s happened, you know. I’ll live.” The weight got very heavy, all of a sudden, and Tony leaned back for a moment before getting enveloped in a tight hug and he did not know what was going on anymore.

“I hadn’t thought of you that way before because you’re always with Natasha and Pepper and those dates and I didn't know you were hurting and oh, God, I’m a horrible friend, I’m so sorry.”

“Steve, I—” Tony started, before the itch in the back of his throat suddenly became unbearable and it was all he could do to just breathe.

“I should’ve told you earlier. I love you.”

The itch was gone.

———

They kiss, and then turn in for the night, beaming and leaning against each other.

“JARVIS? Cancel my appointment, you know the one. Don't need it anymore.”

“Consider it done, sir. May I offer you my congratulations? And shall I notify Ms. Potts and Mr. Rhodes as well?”

They exchange a look, and nod.

“Sure.” Tony says. “Let the team know, too, if you haven’t already.”

“...”

“They know, don't they.”

“Ms. Romanov has already expressed the concern that Mr. Rogers should be prepared for a ‘shovel talk’ at the earliest convenience.”

———

...and that’s about everything I have for this AU.

You guys decide if Steve finds out about the previous surgeries, but if he did, cue even more angst once he realizes this was round 3 for Tony. The horror Tony noticed was Steve going ‘oh shit I didn’t even notice’, rather than homophobia, as Steve had genuinely never thought of him that way before Tony’d brought it up. Also why the Hanahaki disease didn’t immediately go away after the reveal; while Tony was out, Steve sorted through his feelings.

By the way, Natasha’s not the only one with a shovel talk ready; Bruce has one too, and the only reason Pepper and Rhodey don’t is because it goes without saying that they’ll throw down for Tony if push comes to shove. [Ditto as to JARVIS.] But really, though, as long as nobody’s coughing up flowers, the entire team’s happy. Seeing Tony go through it was more than enough, here.

For the record, Howard didn’t cheat on Maria, it’s just that their marriage was breaking down and she was the one most invested in it, thus resulting in her getting the backlash.

[notwithout-mymuse]

Fic: Misconceptions

Five times the Dingles expected the worst of Robert – and the one time none of them did.

All of these fit within canon, and a couple of parts will feature scenes or lines from actual episodes, but from a different perspective. Set at various points between Aaron’s abuse reveal and the Robron wedding. This got way longer than it was meant to be, oops.

Relationships: Robert & Aaron, Robert & various Dingles

Warnings: Implicit rape references (basically includes some Gordon/trial stuff), panic attacks, hints of self-harm, alcohol consumption, and discussion of sexual consent.

1.       Belle

Belle had been determined to be here, no matter how unpleasant it might be. Aaron deserved to know that he had people on his side, and they were going to send a message to that piece of scum today.

Today being the day of Gordon’s plea hearing, which finds Belle sat up in the courtroom gallery, next to her mum, and behind Chas and Aaron. A show of solidarity, and an attempt at reassuring Aaron, who looked so pale and nervous that Belle was slightly surprised that he hadn’t thrown up already.

The door to their right swings open just before the hearing starts. Robert swans in and all heads spin in his direction.

“Room for one more?” He asks.

Belle had heard Chas ask after his whereabouts before they left the pub, when she had wondered aloud whether he might have changed his mind about coming, but Belle hadn’t thought much about it. She certainly hadn’t expected him to show up.

It’s perhaps because of her surprise that she can’t resist asking:

“You’re cutting it a bit fine, aren’t ya?”

“Oh well, you know me, always like to make an entrance.” He replied coolly, not even looking in her direction.

Belle is ready to tell him to leave his smart mouth at the door, because Aaron doesn’t need that right now. But then Aaron himself is speaking, for the first time since they left the pub.

“I thought I told you not to come?” Aaron mutters, tilting his head towards Robert slightly.

“And since when did I listen to anything you say?” Robert replies, watching Aaron intently.

There’s a beat where Belle thinks Aaron might tell him to piss off. But instead he takes a deep breath and a little bit of the rigid tension in his shoulders, that Belle can practically feel radiating off him, seems to melt away. She catches the slightest glimpse of a smile on Chas’ face, before the judge bangs on the desk and calls the court to order, drawing the eyes of everyone present.

Belle wasn’t wrong about it being unpleasant. Although it was just a plea hearing, with no evidence being presented, hearing the crimes being presented in that way, so coldly and clinically, Aaron repeatedly flinching, while Gordon rolled around play-acting at being ill, it made Belle want to punch something (or preferably, someone).

Belle distracts herself by looking down in front of her. It’s why she sees it when it happens. The way Aaron starts trying to tear at the skin of his hand with his blunt nails. The way that Robert, his eyes constantly flickering to Aaron, catches him, and nudges his arm. Robert’s eyes are softer and more concerned than Belle has ever seen them, and she’s even more surprised when Aaron lets go and stops, without even the hint of an argument.

Belle also notices the way Robert’s face screws up in utter disgust whenever Gordon speaks. She clocks the harsh venom in his voice when he hisses about Gordon being an “Evil little…”. An evil little what? She doesn’t get to find out, but she’s pretty sure she would agree.

When the judge gives Gordon bail, Belle can’t help jumping to her feet alongside Chas and her mum, her voice adding to the cacophony of Dingle protests.

“You can’t… what about what he did to the car?

“He is a liar!”

But as the court guard comes to clear them from the room, Belle sees the one person who hasn’t jumped up to scream in Aaron’s defence. Robert is still seated, and isn’t even looking at the rest of the room, he only has eyes for Aaron.

“Look at me… it’s going to be ok.” Robert tells him, his voice low and soothing, his arm around Aaron’s shoulders where he sits, frozen apart from the tears making tracks down his face.

Robert gets moved along by the guard, but Belle sees him wait by the door for Aaron. When Chas and Lisa stride off to give a mouthful to the guard, to DS Wise, and to anyone else who will listen, Belle is left with the two men as Aaron emerges at last, scrubbing roughly at his wet cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket, and looking completely lost.

Before Belle can even think of anything helpful to say, Robert is gently guiding Aaron down the hall to the nearest bench and is encouraging him to sit. Robert squats down in front of him, rubbing Aaron’s forearm and muttering a constant stream of reassurances. She follows them, but hangs back, feeling vaguely like she’s intruding. She listens to Robert comforting Aaron, telling him that it doesn’t matter, that he isn’t going to let Gordon anywhere near him, that Gordon’s acting-up in court because he’s desperate now, because he knows that Aaron is strong enough to beat him.

It’s ten minutes before Robert stops talking and moves to sit beside Aaron, before Aaron’s tears stop and his hands stop shaking. Belle can still hear Chas shrieking at someone down the hall. Aaron seems to notice to, as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes, giving both Robert and Belle a weak smile.

“Give me a minute to sort her out will ya?” Aaron asks, standing and heading in the direction of his mum’s voice.

Belle feels like a spare part, just standing in silence, so she sits down on the bench next to Robert.

“Do you really think it’ll be alright?” Belle asks, even though she isn’t sure why she’s asking, or why she’s asking Robert of all people.

His eyes hold her gaze for a second, like he’s actually considering his response instead of just feeding her some meaningless platitude.

“Yeah, I do. If anyone can do this it’s Aaron” he tells her, his voice earnest and in that moment, she believes him completely. She also decides that maybe Robert Sugden’s gob isn’t all bad.

2.       Marlon

It’s late when Marlon rings the bell behind the bar for last orders. He couldn’t be more glad that the night was nearly over as he feels dead on his feet. Chas and Charity had left him in charge of the pub all night, insisting that their girls’ night out was more important than, you know, running their business. Vic had shot off the second they’d closed the kitchen for the evening, leaving him with a huge pile of washing-up that he would have to finish once he had shut the pub up for the night.

At least it had been a quiet evening, Marlon supposes, gazing round at the pub’s remaining five occupants as he dries a load of pint glasses. Fortunately, two of them are Aaron and Robert, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about encouraging them to go home. Marlon had been watching them for a while now, for lack of anything else to do. They were sat on opposite sides of a table in one of the booths, two half-finished pints and a couple of crumpled crisp packets on the table beside them, playing some complicated card game that Marlon hadn’t been able to fathom the rules to, even after watching them for the best part of an hour.

Liv had been playing with them until about half an hour ago, after which she had disappeared upstairs to take a shower. The three of them had been chatting and laughing, and judging by the unimpressed look on Aaron’s face, Marlon had been pretty sure that Liv and Robert were ganging up on him so that he would lose. Robert and Aaron were quieter now, the game seemingly just something to keep their hands occupied while they chatted back and forth across the table, their feet tangled together underneath. They seemed quietly content and domestic in a way that Marlon still wasn’t used to seeing.

Marlon’s gaze flicked over to the bar’s other three remaining occupants. Three young lads that Marlon had never seen before, certainly not the Woolpack’s typical type of patron. They were apparently on some sort of rural bar crawl, judging by their increasingly loud conversation, which mostly seemed to comprise of what they termed “lad banter”.

It’s only when Marlon has returned to the bar, after fetching another crate of wine from the cellar, that he notices something has shifted in the atmosphere of the room. The three lads are louder than ever, and Robert and Aaron’s focus has shifted from their quiet little bubble, and they’re both now watching the other group. The look on Robert’s face is dark and thunderous, like he wants to go and punch the blokes, for reasons that Marlon cannot fathom. He’d only left for five minutes, what on Earth had happened in that time? Aaron seems to be trying to talk Robert out of his mood, the three guys completely unaware of the glares in their direction. Marlon is about to stomp over and chew Robert out for causing trouble with paying customers when he hears what’s got him worked up in the first place.

“I’m serious mate, that peado bloke used to live here, the one who got banged up for messing about with a little boy, then he topped himself didn’t he?” One of the lads crows, almost seemingly amused, and Marlon only just manages to hold in a groan. It wasn’t the first time he had heard random strangers gossiping about Gordon in the pub, in the few weeks since he had been sentenced, but it is the first time it has happened with Aaron present.

Aaron’s hand over Robert’s clenched fist seems to be the only thing stopping the latter from flying off the handle completely and battering them, so Marlon decides it’s time to intervene. He makes quick work of shepherding the men from the pub with a random excuse about needing to close early for a stock take, even letting them take their glasses of drink with them, just to get rid of them quicker. It takes nearly ten minutes in the end, herding them off with the number of the Barton’s taxi in hand, and locking the external doors.

When Marlon returns things have changed again. Robert is sitting on the same side of the table as Aaron now, muttering something to his boyfriend who is curled over slightly. At first Marlon thinks Aaron is crying, then he realises that it’s more than that, his hands are scrabbling at the table in front of him, harsh rattling breaths ripping out of his chest, he’s panicking. Robert shoves the table away so that Aaron has more space, taking his hand and places it on his own chest.

“It’s ok Aaron, you’re fine, it’ll pass ok? Just breathe with me alright? Deep breath, in…out, that’s it…”

Marlon feels useless, hovering a couple of metres away, unsure what to do as Robert continues his efforts to calm his boyfriend, trying to get Aaron to match his breathing with his own, his thumb rubbing over Aaron’s hand.

“Is…Is there anything I can do to help?” Marlon asks, alarmed.

Robert’s head tilts up, like he’s only just remembered that Marlon is in the room, and he pauses for a second.

“Could ya get him a glass of water?” Robert asks.

“Yeah… yeah of course” Marlon dashes off to get the water, pleased to have something helpful to do.

When he returns, Aaron seems a bit better. His breathing more even, now he mostly just looks tired where he is resting his head on Robert’s shoulder.

Robert thanks him while Aaron lifts his head, takes the glass and starts sipping from it.

“Are you ok? Do you want me to, I dunno, call Chas or something?” Marlon asks.

“Nah, I’m fine, really. I just…wasn’t expecting it, that’s all” Aaron says, he sounds stronger now, more together, though still a little shaky.

“Really, I’m ok Marlon. Just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him” Robert adds. Aaron still has the energy to roll his eyes at Robert, although he doesn’t stop his boyfriend from wrapping an arm around his shoulder when they stand and head towards the back room of the pub.

Marlon leaves the washing-up until the morning in the end. Sometimes mundane things just don’t seem so important.

3.       Sam

Despite what people might say, and he knows what people say, Sam isn’t dumb. Ok, so he might not be bookish like Belle, or shrewd like Cain, or have street-smarts like Charity, but he’s good with people. Lisa told him that once, “perceptive” she had called it, “you know how to read people Sam”.

It’s how he knows, within seconds of Lisa answering the phone, that something is wrong. It’s why he has car keys in his hand before she’s ended the call, clearly flustered and worried.

“… was Chas on the phone… Aaron’s in hospital… him and Robert… some sort of accident.”

Sam hustles her out of the door, and gets them to the hospital in record time. By the time they arrive in the relative’s room - hot on Charity and Cain’s heels, Marlon not far behind – Chas and Liv are surrounded by worried Dingle faces, all demanding answers.

Chas’ voice shakes as she fills them in on what happened. How Aaron was driving and had spun off the road to avoid a massive pile-up. How the boys had ended up in the quarry, Aaron injured and trapped as the water level rose. Chas’ voice tails off at that, clearly upset.

Her horror is reflected in the faces of their surrounding family, Sam notices. For once they are all unable to speak. It’s so unlike his family, that Sam has to say something, unable to stand the awful silence and determined to find answers.

“Why didn’t the police and firemen look for him? And what was Robert doing when all this were happening ey? Saving ‘is own skin I bet.” Sam knows he’s clutching at straws, but he still doesn’t expect the sharp reply, cracking like an angry whip in the silence.

“It weren’t his fault, you idiot! Robert was the one that saved him.” It’s the first time Liv’s spoken since everyone else had arrived, but as she leans forward, silently daring him to contradict her, her eyes are as fiery as they are frightened.

Belle reaches an arm round Liv to try to pacify and comfort her, and when Sam’s gaze lands on Chas, she nods shakily, a confirmation.

“Where’s Robert now?” Charity asks.

“He’s with Aaron… wants to be there when he wakes up again.” Chas replies.

Chas continues to relay what had happened since she arrived, the feedback from the doctor on Aaron’s surgery, the scare he had given them when his heart stopped, the long wait for more information. They all lapse into silence again, broken only when Marlon leaves to retrieve coffee for everyone from the crappy vending machine at the end of the corridor.

Before he can return, Robert himself appears in the doorway, and everyone’s heads shoot up.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine, still sleeping. They just wanted me out of the way so they could run some tests.” Robert is quick to reassure them all, before slumping down in Marlon’s vacated chair.

Sam can’t help but notice how rough he looks. He’s all pale skin, rumpled clothes and red-rimmed eyes. He looks nothing at all like the strong, confident businessman Sam knows him as, and he feels a pang of guilt for jumping to conclusions before. Sam doesn’t need to be clever to know that the man in front of him is falling apart.

When the nurse comes in, about twenty minutes later, to tell them that they’ve finished Aaron’s tests and will let them all know when the results are back, Robert returns immediately to Aaron’s room, this time with Liv.

Chas watches Robert leave, with an odd look on her face.

“They’re getting married” Chas announces quietly to the family. “Him and Aaron” she clarifies, in response to the confused looks, nodding her head in the direction of the door that Robert had just exited.

Chas lets the initial wave of “what?”, “are you kidding?”, and “oh my god, really?” settle before she speaks again, explaining about Robert’s proposal gone wrong, about him showing her the ring, and Aaron’s response.

Sam stands up after a while, needing a walk to stretch his legs. He walks along the corridor, but finds himself hovering around the window to Aaron’s room, watching Robert and Liv sitting on chairs on either side of Aaron’s bed. Liv is resting her chin on her folded arms on the edge of the bed. Robert’s slumped forward, one hand smoothing Aaron’s bed sheet unnecessarily, his other hand curled around Aaron’s, the slightest glimpse of silver just visible in-between fingers and thumbs.

It’s only when Robert and Liv jump up, their faces breaking into huge smiles, that Sam realises Aaron has woken up. Liv steps back slightly to press the call button to alert the nurses, while Robert leans forward, meeting Aaron’s gaze, then placing the gentlest of kisses to Aaron’s forehead.

No, Sam might not be bookish, or shrewd, or street-smart, but he damn well knows love when he sees it, and right now it’s radiating from every single part of them.

4.       Cain

Cain swears to himself, that the next person to make any kind of noise is going to make friends with his fist. He’s had a long day at the garage, has a banging headache, and to top it all off he’d had another argument with Charity, which is why he’s found himself in his current predicament, tossing and turning on the sofa in the back room of the pub and getting increasingly pissed off.

First Noah had been banging around the room looking for his homework that’s due tomorrow, then Chas had started shouting up the stairs about Liv leaving her stuff for people to trip over. Cain had thought everyone was finally asleep in bed, when the back door had banged open noisily. Aaron and Robert’s muffled laughter drifting through the closed door, followed by a thump on the wall which only serves to annoy him more.

“Oops!”, Aaron giggles – honest to god giggles – seemingly the one to have bumped into the wall. Great, Cain thinks, he’s drunk.

“Careful” Robert warns him, laughter in his voice, but sounding much more in control than Aaron. “I told you that last round of shots was a bad idea!”

“Mmm fine. I’m not even… not even that drunk, just like tipsy, like a tiny little bit.” Aaron responds, slurring in a way that completely undermines his insistent words.

Cain is about to snort in denial, but Robert beats him to it.

“Yeah yeah mate, sure you are.”

“Well if I was drunk would I be able to do this?” Aaron retorts.

Cain isn’t sure what “this” is but the way Robert gasps and exclaims “Aaron!” gives him a few ideas and he cringes. There are some things a man just doesn’t need to know about his nephew.

“C’mon Robert. Let’s go upstairs… want you…want you to take me to bed, c’mon.”

Cain leaps off the sofa, his ear pressed to the door and hand on the door handle, ready to grab Robert by the scruff of the neck and chuck him out of the house because there’s no way he’s letting Robert take advantage of Aaron in his drunken state.

His anger, it turns out, is premature.

“Nope, no way, not happening! There’s no way I’m having sex with you tonight when you’re completely pissed.” Robert’s voice is still amused, but sterner now.

“Roooooob!” Aaron whines.

“No, I’m serious! The only thing you’re going upstairs for is to sleep this off.”

“Ok, I’m going….” Aaron’s voice is cut off by another, louder thump. This one followed by two pained groans.

This time, Cain does open the door and moves into the hall. He finds Robert and Aaron in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, Aaron still laughing, his arm wrapped around his Robert’s neck. It seemed like Robert had tried to help Aaron up the stairs, but the latter had lost his footing, bringing Robert crashing down with him.

“Oi, keep it down out here, some of us are tryin’ to sleep” Cain barks at them.

“Why you sleeping down ‘ere anyway, you in the dog house or summat?” Aaron shoots back grinning, clearly oblivious to the death glare on his uncle’s face.

“Aaand we’re going now” Robert says, steering Aaron upwards on the stairs again. “Sorry to disturb” Robert calls back to Cain over his shoulder, his hands on Aaron’s lower back to stop him falling again.

“Oi Sugden!” Cain calls at the last minute, causing Robert to look back over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Look after him yeah?”

“Yeah, always” Robert answers, before disappearing upstairs after Aaron.

And if the next morning Cain almost runs into Robert on the stairs as he heads down after his shower, the two of them sharing a knowing look over the tray that Robert is carrying upstairs, laden with a small mountain of buttered toast and two steaming mugs of tea – then no one else needs to know do they?

5.       Lisa

The winter air is biting when Lisa steps outside, the old door swinging shut behind her, trapping the warmth and merry laughter inside. But the freezing air is a welcome relief as the house had had far too many people crammed into such a small space, which combined with the heat from cooking Christmas lunch, has left Lisa with permanently red cheeks for hours. But she wouldn’t change it for anything, having the family round the table talking, laughing, joking and drinking far too much is what a Dingle Christmas is all about. It’s been a while since the family felt whole and complete – but Lisa tries not to think about that – it’s been such a good day and she doesn’t want to lose that warm feeling in her chest just yet.                                                                                                                    

Lisa had escaped from the house, leaving Belle and Chas to finish the drying up, with the excuse that the pigs needed putting away for the night. Which was true, but for a few minutes she is content to lean against the wall, watching a few flakes of settled snow slip from a tree branch as it shifts in the wind, listening to the distant shouts of an affectionate argument in the house behind her. The smell of woody smoke still lingers in the air, probably from where Zak and Sam had set up a fire inside a metal barrel round the side of the house, so that they could keep warm when they snuck outside for their traditional cigar while her back was turned.

It's not until she’s finished dealing with the pigs, and has rounded the house to check that the fire has settled enough to not be dangerous, that she sees them. Aaron and Robert. Lisa hadn’t realised they were still here, she had heard them leave the house about twenty minutes earlier, when she had been elbow-deep in turkey grease and fairy liquid. She had heard Chas shouting at them in her tipsy voice to mind the slippery pavements and had waved a soapy hand in the direction of the door without looking, assuming they would head straight home.

But evidently they didn’t as they’re both currently perched on the top of the waist high fence next to the barrel, backs to her, their faces half lit, half shadowed by the declining flames. They’re talking softly and neither of them seem to realise that she is there, the crackle of the wood logs louder than the crunch of her feet on the icy ground.

Of all the Dingle clan, Lisa was proud of the fact that she was probably the least judgemental of the lot when it came to who her family chose as their partners. Of course, she had heard plenty of stories about Robert over the years, had listened to many of Chas’ early rants about how he was no good for Aaron, about how he was trouble.

She had been quick to point out – to Chas and anyone else that would listen – that their family probably didn’t have much room to judge as they weren’t exactly a bunch of angels themselves. As far as Lisa was concerned, if Aaron was happy, it was fine by her. After the year Aaron had experience, no one deserved happiness more, in her opinion.

But still, Lisa had to admit that she had been surprised when Robert had turned up with Aaron and Liv shortly before lunch, the three of them in ridiculous festive jumpers and laden with presents. Aaron must have caught her surprise, because he’d pulled her aside shortly after, and asked her in an undertone if she minded having an extra person, to which she had patted him on the shoulder and reassured him that there was always plenty to go around.

It wasn’t that she was bothered, just surprised. Robert Sugden didn’t strike her as the sort of person to spend Christmas Day necking sickly-sweet snowballs in a silly paper-hat, and playing charades with his future in-laws. She had assumed that he would be too much of a, well... snob, for that. But that was exactly what Robert had done. He had thrown himself in wholeheartedly, had joined in with the games, returned the light-hearted banter, and even made a valiant attempt at keeping up with the Dingles’ Irish drinking habits.

So really it shouldn’t have come as a shock, the sight of Robert and Aaron huddled together in their winter coats and hats, their breaths rising simultaneously as clouds, twisting together in the cold air as they warmed their hands over the fire. But it still did. Lisa didn’t want to interrupt them, or make them think she was spying, but the truth was she was curious. She had never seen Aaron like this with anyone before. He seemed open, affectionate, and settled in a way that was brand new, and it suited him.

Lisa knew she wasn’t the only one who had been watching Robert throughout the day. She had seen the way Aaron’s eyes had lit up when he saw Robert laughing over a can of lager with Cain and Sam. She had seen his soft smile when Robert had kneeled down on the floor to help April construct her brand-new wooden train set. She’d noticed the way Aaron had drawn Robert back from the chaos for a little while, the two of them curled up on the sofa with Alfie, soft and completely lost in each other in a way that felt almost too intimate to watch.

Lisa is pulled from her thoughts by the sound of Aaron’s voice, clearer now the crackling noise was subsiding.

“…so, it was alright then?” he asks, unsure.

“Yeah, well I’ve eaten about a month’s worth of food in under 24 hours…” Robert replies, amusement colouring his voice, then suddenly more serious.

“…but yeah it was…really nice actually, a proper family Christmas and that. I don’t really get that anymore.” Robert shrugs as he says it, but can’t quite hide the emotion is his voice, not from Lisa, and certainly not from Aaron, who reaches for Robert, pulling him in so that Robert can rest his head on his shoulder.

“But we’re seeing Diane and Vic for Boxing Day lunch tomorrow, aren’t we?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah, ‘course… it’s just not really the same anymore you know? What with mum and dad gone and Andy… god knows where. It always just feels like there’s too much missing.”

Lisa wants to break her silence, to rush over and reassure Robert that he’ll always be welcome with them, because if there is one thing that Lisa cannot stand is anyone feeling cast-out or unwanted. But it seems that Aaron has the situation under control. He leans back slightly to press his lips to Robert’s cold-bitten cheek, before speaking again.

“I know it doesn’t make everything ok but… you’ll always have a place here with me, you know?” Aaron’s says, voice soft.

“I know.” Robert replies. Their eyes linger for a moment, like those words have some deeper meaning for them, before Aaron slips down from the fence.

“Come on, let’s go home.” He says, tugging Robert’s hand.

“Yeah, home.” Robert echoes, tangling their red-raw fingers together. The two starting the cold trek up the path towards the village, still oblivious to Lisa’s watchful gaze, before she turns towards home too.

Over the last year, after everything that had happened with Zak and Joanie, Lisa had felt herself becoming more and more disillusioned with the notion of true love, but as she turns back to watch Robert and Aaron disappear over the dark, snow-covered hill, their joined hands swinging in the space between them, she thinks maybe – just maybe – there is still something to believe in. If Aaron and Robert could find it again, then maybe she could too.

And she also thinks that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to add Robert to the list of people coming to their New Year’s fireworks party either.

+1

The room is stuffy, there’s cheap champagne and sandwich crusts littering the floor, the decorations are tacky. So basically, it’s a proper Dingle knees-up, and there isn’t an unhappy face in the room.

Charity’s yell of “They got wed!” is still echoing in everyone’s eardrums, party poppers flinging streamers among handfuls of confetti. Robert and Aaron are both grinning from ear to ear, and their happiness is infectious as they accept congratulations from their friends and family. Lisa is one of the first to wriggle through the crowd and congratulate them, pulling them both in for big hugs.

Zak hands Robert the welly, Cain and Marlon cheering in the background as Sam proudly announces to the whole pub that Robert is one of them now. Despite Robert’s protestations over the welly, there isn’t a single member of the Dingle family that believes he won’t do it. He’ll do it for Aaron, and they all know it.

When Chas tricks them into their first dance, Robert encourages Aaron to sway with him, not a hint of shame or embarrassment as he shows off his new husband for the world to see, at the wedding he had pulled together in under 24 hours. Their guests all beam with pride and love.

Belle doesn’t have as much luck getting Aaron to dance with her, he’s stubbornly content to prop up the bar with a beer in hand, surveying the scene in front of him. So instead she starts conferring with Sarah and Victoria about how many more wellies Robert would need to dance with them instead.

When Aaron finally ducks outside towards the end of the night, looking a bit overwhelmed, none of the Dingles make any moves to follow him. They let Robert follow instead, all of them confident that when it came to Aaron, Robert really was the best thing for him.

[jeichanhaka]

The Robbed That Smiles

Chapter Twelve

“You are out of line.” Thor growled at Stark, as Loki and Lokki teleported away. “What happened to you and your wife two years ago is no excuse to treat my family like that.” He strode forward, reaching Stark in three strides and grabbed the inventor by the shirt. “Sis has nothing to do with what happened to your daughter, and she obviously didn’t know….”

“About Morgan dying? I caught that.” Stark replied, flinching as he said his daughter’s name, his anger diminished. Replaced instead with numbness and a calmer rage, one as quiet as the blood smearing his palm. “I also caught Miss Nippy dropping the name of the person who decimated her universe. Thanos.”

Confusion spread over Thor, his outrage tempered by it. His grip on Stark’s shirt lessened. “What?” He muttered, staring at the other man. It took a moment for what the other said and its implication to reach through his bewilderment. “Don’t tell me all that was just a ploy to get Sis to divulge a name….” Beside them, Natasha and Barton held similar stares of disbelief, directed at Stark.

“Not exactly.” Stark replied and pulled his shirt from the thunder god’s grip, after which he looked over his wounded palm. “I am fucking pissed off. And I meant what I said. She’s to stay the hell out of my building.” His demeanor shifted from relatively calm to livid, recalling the emotions that had flooded him when he heard Lokki mention Morgan by name. For the shortest of short moments, he thought he’d get the chance to see his daughter. That she was alive in the goddess’ parallel universe and, with his parallel-world self dead, without a father.

The idea broke down immediately once he considered how selfish it was (his brain had not immediately registered what Lokki had said about Pepper in her universe), he couldn’t take this other Morgan from her mother. It was further devastated when Lokki revealed that the Morgan of her universe was dead. Killed by Thanos using the Infinity Stones. That was a blow, and delivered in such a direct tone. A tone he only now realized was that way from shock and not indifference.

“I don’t believe you.” Thor shook his head, unsure what angered him more: Stark’s outburst being real or a ploy. “Did...did my brother have anything to do with this….”

Stark scowled at the thunder god. “No. My outburst wasn’t fake and I’m close to having another at your obtuseness. Do you want me to tell you to get out as well?” He bristled when Thor glowered back and growled that the inventor didn’t have the power to kick him out. Barton and Natasha stepped between the two of them before Stark could retort and challenge the god.

“Enough. Alright?”

“Jeez…”

“Fine. But you better apologize to Sis. Regardless of things.” Demanded Thor. “Kicking her out is bad enough. Calling her creature like that is worse.” His eyes narrowed recalling his brother’s sensitivity at being Jotunn, a race that many Asgardians viewed as hardly more than beasts. His brother’s female double likely had similar, if not the same sensitivities.

Stark grimaced and clenched his jaw while cupping his injured hand with his uninjured one. After a moment he nodded. “Fine. That was a bit out of line. I’ll apologize later.” His face hardened when Thor started to demand he apologize right away. “Not going to happen.”

“Why not?!”

“Aside from me still wanting to pummel Miss Nippy? There’s no time.” The inventor snapped while opening the door to his workshop and collecting things for bandaging his hand from a first-aid kit on one of the shelves. Thor and the other Avengers followed, the Asgardian from anger and the others from caution. “Barton and Barnes arrived this morning with an agent Morfield. The same one that tried capturing you and Strange. And who is, according to Barnes, an ex-Hydra member. One that helped keep him captive and brainwashed.”

“What?” Thor stared at Stark, recognizing the name of the terrorist organization from helping his fellow Avengers expose and fight them a few times since coming to Earth. The group was very like its namesake, sprouting new ‘heads’ after every defeat. “I thought SHIELD and this planet’s governments exposed the remaining members of Hydra after they kidnapped….” He stopped and drew back, biting down on his tongue, while Stark tensed. The inventor’s back was to the thunder god, so Thor couldn’t see his expression. He felt it, though, in the uncomfortable silence that descended upon the room, and he quietly chastised himself. Behind him, Natasha swore and Barton quietly glowered at the thunder god’s back. “I’m...sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up….”

He faltered, the silence returning heavier than before.

“Then stop talking.” Stark growled, clenching a fist as Thor’s words brought forth excruciating memories. Memories that were two years old, but still painful. Anguishing.

Two years prior, in some last-ditch attempt to thwart the Avengers and SHIELD, a handful of Hydra members, who had managed to evade capture, kidnapped the children of various SHIELD members. A two month old Morgan Stark had been among those taken. And despite the beat down he and his fellow Avengers delivered on Hydra, it’d come too late to save Stark’s daughter. In their vindictiveness, the Hydra agents had experimented on the kidnapped children, without caring about results or the survival of their hostages. Morgan had been among the casualties.

“...as I was saying, Barnes identified agent Morfield as Hydra, and after a search into SHIELD’s files, I found evidence to support that.” Stark continued, swallowing back all his thoughts and emotions, except for those concerning the present situation. “Morfield was part of Hydra and only escaped prosecution because he left a year before they tried to take over and provided testimony against many of his former colleagues.”

Picking up on the emphasis Stark put on the word ‘former,’ Natasha raised an eyebrow and said. “His allegiance switch wasn’t real, then.”

“That is tricky to ascertain. According to SHIELD’s files, Morfield repeatedly claimed to have no real allegiance to Hydra and only worked for them for monetary reasons. Once they started refusing his pay raise requests, he left.”

“And yet this greedy bastard was given a position in the government’s new security department? The ‘Mediation and Evasive Defenses’ department?” Barton asked, a sour look on his face. Stark held a similar expression. “What the hell were the idiots who hired him thinking?!”

“That is the million dollar question. That and figuring out the extent of Morfield’s role in the attack on the New York Sanctum. If he knows this Mordo fellow….”

“He does.” Piped Barton. “When Barnes and I confronted him, there was a wizard in the back seat of his car who matched the description Strange gave of his former colleague. He portaled away before we could secure him.”

“Then we need to have Morfield tell us where to find the man. As well as spill whatever his and Hydra’s plans are.” Stark said as he finished bandaging his injured hand and flexed his fingers, clenching his teeth when the burning sensation in his palm flared up. Strengthened anew. He scowled.

~0~

Glancing around and calmly appreciating his surroundings, the decor of the Hong Kong Sanctum barely changed from the last time he was there, Stephen Strange contemplated the space for a moment. This Sanctum was the one Mordo had portalled from, as evidenced by the lingering traces the man’s magic had left and the statement of another wizard Mordo had coerced into allowing access.

According to the coerced wizard, Mordo had threatened to send the young man to a place much more harrowing than any place the man could imagine and then opened a portal. Where the portal led was unknown though as one of the people with Mordo had proceeded to coerce the young wizard in a more physical manner. Breaking the fellow’s nose and wrist, taking advantage of the young wizard’s under-developed magic. Although Strange suspected that Mordo may have dampened the younger man’s magic somehow.

“I...I should’ve defended this Sanctum better.” The young wizard stammered, standing in the doorway leading towards the Sanctum’s artifact room; it was in that room that the magic treasures given to the Hong Kong Sanctum to protect were kept. It was also the first room Strange had checked after Mordo’s attack.

Strange dismissed the young man’s words with a shake of his head and a hand gesture. His first thought was to agree with the other wizard’s harsh self-criticism, but refrained from voicing it. The young wizard was talented and young, still in his twenties. And if anyone was at fault, it was the Sanctum wizards that had left him to watch the place unaided. “Nothing was taken or destroyed here. Just make sure you do better next time.”

The younger wizard frowned, muttering something self-derisive, before leaving. Strange’s lack of anger and criticism of the man having had an opposite than intended effect.

“It’s...odd.” A cronish woman approached Strange, her asian and wizened features bestowing on her an air of wisdom. The sort that comes with age and experience, both of which the woman had a plethora from her eight decades of life. “He took nothing. And apart from the injuries his partner gave young Ray, harmed no one here.”

“Mordo knows the danger destroying the Sanctums can cause.” Replied Strange, his manner and voice calm, while inside his emotions and thoughts raged. He had no certainty what his ex-colleague would do or not, and he’d half expected to see the Hong Kong Sanctum ransacked. That it was left virtually unscathed, relieved him. It meant whatever Mordo’s plan was, it didn’t include earth’s destruction.

“Why attack the New York Sanctum then? He wrecked the place, didn’t he?”

“That he did.” Strange nodded, frowning. The damage Mordo had caused the New York Sanctum wasn’t nearly the same degree as Caecilius had, and was already mostly repaired. More damage was done to his and Wong’s egos through how Mordo managed to decimate their security measures. Including Strange’s Sanctuary spell. “But I wager he wasn’t planning on doing so. It was simply the only way he could escape with Sanctuary in effect.” He paused for a moment, thinking. If Mordo had wanted to cause more damage he could have, and he could’ve killed Wong. Aside from the damage to the building, the only major thing the ex-Sanctum wizard did was portal away Rogers and a handful of soldiers. ‘Was Mordo’s goal really just to deliver Miss Lokki a message as Loki implied? If so...how does he even know about her?’

“Ms. Lan, could you….” He started to ask, addressing the wizened woman beside him, only to be interrupted by the young wizard running back into the room. The young man holding something securely in his arms and looking bewildered. “What is it, Ray? What…” He went quiet, recognizing what was in the other’s hands.

“I...Doctor Strange, I don’t know how it got here, but this was…” Ray muttered handing over what he held, a massive volume of archaic text.

“The Og Infinium.” Strange gazed over the volume’s cover, curious and alarmed. He had secured the forbidden tome at the Kamar-Taj last week, not long after Lokki’s arrival and his decision to house her at the Sanctum. By all accounts, it should have still been there, protected under layers and layers of magic. “Where was….”

Before he even got his question out, the volume opened of its own accord to a page filled with sanskrit text and an image of the book itself. In the image it lay on a reading pedestal much like one of the ones in the Hong Kong library. The text accompanying it was more detailed, answering Strange’s unfinished question.

Strange raised an eyebrow, reacting only slightly to the book opening on its own. He had after all experienced the occurrence once before, when he’d first discovered it amid the Ancient One’s collection. Back then he’d been muttering a similarly simple question, and it had opened on its own to the answer. “Interesting. Is that how this tome works?” He said while closing it, seconds later the book opened again on its own, to a page that held but a single word as answer.

~0~

“You’re curious, I presume.”

Reclining on a sofa next to the window of a deceptively small-sized apartment, his hideout away from his brother’s and the Avengers prying eyes, Loki glanced at his female doppelganger. The goddess stood on the other side of the room next to a bookshelf, absently trailing her fingers over the spines of various Midgardian volumes. Having been reticent since the mischief god brought her here rather than one of Strange’s Sanctums, Lokki’s statement drew a curious glance from the male Jotunn.

“I’ve been called worse.” Loki replied and returned to the book he’d been perusing, his demeanor showing nothing but a benign indifference. “But this book is worth the curiosity. It’s the closest thing to truly original Midgardian mythology, one not based on alien gods visiting the planet. Intriguing how violent and inventive they can be.”

Glancing over at the god and his book, Lokki rolled her eyes before plucking out a random volume from the shelf. She then sat down on a softly cushioned armchair situated an end table length away from the sofa. “Many Midgardians will not appreciate you calling that book ‘mythology.’” She frowned before opening her book, and pretending to peruse its pages. Her statement earned her an eyeroll and frown from Loki identical to hers. He refrained from voicing his retort and just continued reading, or feigning to, having already read the black-cover book before.

The two of them remained like that for a moment, waging a quiet battle of wills with the other. 

“Fine, I am curious about….”

“...I was married to my universe’s Thor, if that interests you.”

Both broke the silence within seconds of the other, the time difference minuscule.

“I am NOT at all interested in that tidbit.” Loki pulled a face, scowling at Lokki. His expression shifted when he noticed the bemusement on the goddess’ face. It was subtle and he studied it, placing down his book on the windowsill. After a moment the uncomfortable scowl returned to his face. Despite his quiet wish that his doppelganger was pulling a fast one on him, he realized she was telling the truth. Her bemusement came solely from his reaction to it.

“The Allfather arranged it. It was over in less than three centuries, though.” Lokki continued, watching her male counterpart’s discomfort with a smile. It grew wider when she caught hints of Loki using illusion magic to block out her words. “...It was all political nonsense to appease Vanaheim, anyway.” She finished with a shrug, and returned to her book.

“Appease Vanaheim…?” Loki muttered, scrutinizing his doppelganger with full intrigue behind an illusionary mask of indifference. “How would yours and bro...such an union appease Vanaheim? I’d have figured it’d be Jotun…”

“Jotunheim is gone. Destroyed centuries back in my universe.” The goddess interrupted, the bemusement faded from her lips and eyes. “I was being literal when I introduced myself as the last Jotunn. The Allfather destroyed it soon after he denounced and banished me.”

“Odin...what?” Loki dropped his illusionary stoicism, and gaped at Lokki. His surprise increasing drastically when he saw zero sign of the other lying. “Why the bloody hell would he….” The mischief god shook his head, disbelieving what the other said despite the truth in it. “...Father was too good and peace-preferring to….” He frowned. “Even if Jotunheim attacked, he wouldn’t have completely destroyed it. I….”

“...believe what you want.” Spat Lokki, leaning back in her chair and glowering at the mischief god. “I just assumed you’d want to be prepared for your next peeks into my memories. Being blindsided isn’t fun.” Switching her position on the cushioned armchair so that her legs hung over one of its arms and her upper body reclined comfortably against the other. “I’m famished.” She continued after a moment, one of her arms pillowed under her head. “Got anything to eat in this cupboard of a hovel?”

The mischief god just flashed his doppelganger a look, still frowning from her earlier revelation and even more from the insult to his hideaway. Not much larger than his room at Stark’s tower, the apartment was what the Midgardians called a studio, meaning everything aside from the bathroom and a closet was one open room. It being just a hideaway for himself, Loki had never been bothered by the limited space or the lack of appealing decor. There were bookshelves with enough volumes to occupy him for weeks and comfortable furniture, plus it was shielded against any form of surveillance. Even Heimdal.

“Unfortunately, this cupboard is closed. There are plenty of food shops and restaurants though, ten blocks east from here.” The god replied with a dry affect, gesturing towards the west. “I have excellent rapport with all the owners and they certainly will be delighted to give you anything you want if you mention me.”

“....uh huh.” Lokki just gave the god a ‘are you serious’ stare identical to the look he’d given her.

“You don’t believe me?” Loki asked in an affronted manner, a hint of a smile in his voice. His amusement increased when his doppelganger simply scowled in response and left her seat. Moments later she started walking towards the door, and his eyes widened and mouth twitched wondering if Lokki was falling for his lie.

All his barely hidden mirth shifted to confusion when his doppelganger entered the bathroom instead. Almost as suddenly, his bewilderment shifted into abashment and sheepish remorse when he heard her vomiting. Until that sound hit him, Lokki’s pregnancy had slipped his mind.

“Bloody hell.” Loki muttered under his breath, covering part of his face with his hand in a contrite gesture. In his automatic desire to retaliate against his doppelganger’s insult, he had tried to trick her into walking to shops that didn’t exist. Not in the direction he said, or the distance. Rather than be east and ten blocks away, the closest eatery that still served him was eighteen blocks north. Not exactly feasible for the pregnant Jotunn to walk without magic, and especially not with how risky her condition was. He stood up and headed towards the bathroom, knocking on the door after the sounds of vomiting stopped. “Selfie, what would you like to eat?”

Lokki muttered inaudibly behind the door, most of what could be heard garbled to the point of nonsense. The mischief god simply waited patiently outside the bathroom door, casting an illusion spell over the room to drown away all sounds that were not Lokki talking. A small gesture to protect his doppelganger’s privacy, while he waited. Not long after Lokki finished up and exited, muttering as she did so. “I said, did you really want me to answer that?” The goddess stopped just a step into the hall, cocking an eyebrow at Loki standing just a few steps away.

“Well? What would you like to….”

“Did you really need to stand just outside the door?” Lokki asked, grimacing at her male doppelganger and frowning even heavier when he shrugged in response. The pair just stood there waiting for the other to respond for a few moments, neither keen to be the first to speak and both viewing it as a personal challenge to stay silent the longest.

Rolling her eyes and sighing, Lokki walked back to the armchair she’d vacated, still not saying a word. Behind her, Loki similarly shrugged, but unlike his female doppelganger, didn’t return to his sofa. Instead he headed out, portaling away without a word.

~0~

The Arboretum was quiet, its flora spanning the whole area, although only a few of the plants were real. Even fewer were natural. The majority genetically engineered to thrive in the artificial atmosphere of the ship or to simply appear so. An illusion of science, and one that garnered a frown from an imposing figure stepping through the room.

Clad head to foot in armor made from a flexible textile material that was stronger and more durable than it looked. Dark gray, except for a few swatches of silver threaded through the hems. And on the clasps. On his head was a similarly constructed helmet, made from the same material and covering most of his face - only part of his mouth and a slit over his eyes were uncovered. Allowing only a small swath of his mauve skin to be visible, skin that was heavily scarred.

“Either she’s gotten lazy or she’s not here.” He muttered and glanced around, searching the quiet for some life beyond the greenery. There was none. No sign of anyone residing there or visiting. Nothing but the plants. The being scowled and took something from a satchel on his armor. Mangled with a few wires poking out and the mesh covering over the speaker broken off seventy-five percent of the way, it was a com device. One that, when fixed up, would match any of those the Avengers carried.

Hidden in the library along with Nar the bear librarian, Rogers watched the intruder nosing around on a surveillance camera. He stiffened when he noticed the com device, and instinctively reached for his own when the titan seemed about to try transmitting. Although Fen claimed that his com’s receiver was broken, making it unable to receive a message that would alert the intruder, Rogers felt wary. The device the being held was identical to those made by Stark, albeit damaged nearly to the point of irreparability.

It drove home what Lokki had said about her universe, that they, the Avengers, were dead. And that this stranger from the other ship, who he assumed was the ‘Thanos’ the android Fen had mentioned, had the com infuriated Rogers. It took mustering all the self control he had to refrain from lunging at the intruder and taking back the com.

‘Don’t even think about attacking. You’ll be killed.’ A voice whispered in his head, startling him just short of making him gasp. Biting harshly down on his tongue, Rogers managed not to make a noise as he held in his shock. The voice speaking to him the same voice as the man who’d portalled him from the Sanctum.

‘How the...how are you speaking to me?’ Rogers spoke in his thoughts, assuming that if he could hear the voice then the man who the voice belonged to could hear him back. ‘And why send me here?’

‘While I can sense your disdain, I cannot actually read your thoughts. This spell is limited.’ Mordo continued, his voice echoing in the Avenger’s thoughts. ‘Assuming you’re wondering why I sent you to Lady Lokki’s universe, my answer’s simple. I want you to uncover the truth.’

‘What? The truth about what? Why would I even consider helping….’ Rogers ground his teeth, focusing on the voice even as his gaze followed the titan’s moves.

‘Again I sense your hostility, and...confusion…. The truth isn’t for my benefit, though. It is for humanity’s and all sentient life.’ The wizard explained, the sound of his voice becoming distant and more echoey, as though reverberating through a tunnel. ‘Find out what actually happened in that universe. Do that and I’ll open a portal on the other side of the rift.’

Mordo’s voice left after that, the wizard not bothering to wait for Rogers’ reaction. Not even to gauge the man’s emotions.

Rogers grimaced and made an exasperated noise, akin to a sigh and mumbled grunt. His irritation vanished immediately after when he heard footsteps approaching and finally noticed

that the being he’d been watching over the surveillance cameras had moved completely out of view.