Chapter Text
Tony groaned as he stretched his arms above his head, the sore muscles in his back screaming in protest.
Behind him he could hear the others snickering.
"You should have just drank it." Rogers said, shooting him a disapproving look.
"It was glowing!" he defended himself, shooting Potter a furtive glance.
The agent didn’t seem to notice, deep in conversation with their two assassins.
It was a sight that should have had Tony's guard rising. Instead, something in him relaxed as he focused on his picking his way down the road.
The roads were completely inaccessible by vehicle so they were walking back to the tower.
Their meal, his well-chosen Shawarma, had been quiet. Filled with the clink of their silverware and their breathing. It wasn't until the walk back that some of their energy returned, enough to get them talking.
In particular, the three agents were bringing up the rear, heads close together. Discussing the team? The battle? He couldn't tell.
He wasn't sure what he was feeling. How he felt about their half-hearted team.
And yet, he had been the one to invite them to crash at the tower. He wasn't quite sure why he'd done it, why he'd looked around at their rag-tag group and felt a tug on his heart.
Barton was likely persona non grata with SHIELD. It made him returning to the helicarrier tricky. And Tony honestly couldn't see either Romanoff or Potter leaving him behind. He'd already decided to keep Banner, and after that it was only a matter of a second to decide to keep Thor and Cap as well.
Pepper was going to kill him. She hated when he brought home strays, even temporary ones like the cat that one time. And he had a feeling these guys were more of the permanent kind.
It always ended in broken things and in a thorough scolding. But then again, the thought of Pepper scolding him with her hands on her hips and with that reluctantly fond pinch to her mouth… nothing sounded better.
He picked up his pace, drawing to the point of their little entourage.
A part of him was surprised that those capable of it hadn't flown ahead.
But he supposed he wasn't the only one who wasn't ready to split up yet. Despite everything, they'd bonded during that fight. The lines had been redrawn, and somehow, they were all on the same side.
Them against the rest of the world.
Tony rather thought he could get used to that.
"Shouldn't we be going back to the Helicarrier?"
"No."
"Tasha… If they were going to put me on lockdown they would have already."
She tossed her hair over shoulder in a crimson wave, turning to glare at Clint.
Harry suddenly found himself in the middle of a staring contest. His position between the two assassins as they walked began to seem like a bad idea.
The ferocity of Natasha's gaze should have ended the conversation there. But their hawk had never been cowed so easily.
"Hill, who by the way has more cause than most since I actually shot at her, let me go. Her and Fury can keep a handle on things." He persisted.
"Officially they can." she scoffed, the part she left out implicit in her expression.
They all knew that a large part of SHIELD, from top to bottom, operated unofficially. Many agents and their respective departments could hold their own 'unofficial' opinion about Barton. And there was nothing Fury could do about it. Those types of opinions could get an agent killed in the field.
And even disregarding that, going back to the Helicarrier so soon wasn't a good idea. Even if most agents could understand logically that Barton wasn't to blame, emotionally?
Harry wouldn't bet his, or more importantly Barton's, life on it.
"For now it's best to stick with the team." he said, intending to halt the argument there.
In the end all he did was switch the focus.
Natasha slanted a sly look at him, swaying closer as they trekked through debris.
"And? What do you think about the team? You were skeptical."
He blinked, thrown by the change in subject. But he adjusted and took a moment to think about his answer.
What did he think about this team of heroes?
"You all managed to come together at the eleventh hour," He thought out loud. There was a commotion in front of them and he was distracted as Stark put on a burst of speed and darted forward.
Automatically the team adjusted their strides to keep up.
He fought a smile.
"But?" Clint prompted when in his distraction he didn't finish his thought.
"But. There's still a lot of improvement that could be done." he finished with a shake of his head. After all, just because they came together at the end and managed to win the fight, that didn't mean they could do it a second in time.
In effect, today had been a once in a lifetime hail-Mary. It was something he wasn't sure they could pull off a second time. Not in their current state anyway.
On either side of him the two assassins nodded, surprising him a bit.
What did it say about the group that these two understood partnership and teamwork the best? These assassins who had worked alone the majority of their lives? Whose experience with trust and working together only applied to each other and on occasion to him and Coulson?
But he supposed even they would look normal when compared to a genius billionaire, a rage monster, a super soldier and a literal alien.
He smirked, reaching over to give each of them a slight shove.
It took one step for them to regain their balance, their bodies still running in mission mode. Well, Natasha would have recovered gracefully regardless. Barton on the other hand tended to be more careless and clumsy once he dropped out of the mission mindset.
They turned twin scowls on him and he had to resist the childish urge to stick his tongue out at them.
"I'll leave teaching them the ropes of teamwork to you two, shall I? Please take care of it."
Clint blinked at him, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Natasha's surprise was more subtle, a raised eyebrow and a jaw that loosened only slightly.
Before either of them could rally or protest he turned on his heel, apparating.
He popped back into existence midstride next to Stark. Just because he could. It was freeing to be able to use his magic at will around other people.
Tony turned at the sound and flinched away, making a noise that could only be classified as a shriek.
"You… but you were." He stuttered, pointing behind them.
Harry ignored him for the moment, glancing back to gauge his agents' reactions.
As usual Clint's response was more plan to see, his scowl transforming his face. Natasha on the other end of the spectrum looked just like normal. The only visible change was in her stride, which had a decidedly more lethal edge to it.
Tony followed his gaze, and snickered.
For all that the inventor had trouble interacting with people and human emotions, Harry had to admit he was above average at reading body language.
"What did you do to annoy them?"
Harry shrugged and gave him what he knew was a mysterious smile. He was well practiced at it. The shrug and smile, Ron's name for it, had been his standard response after the war. Whenever anyone asked him how he'd done it, how he'd defeated Voldemort, all they'd received was a shrug and his best mysterious smile.
It had at once quelled and stoked the many rumors and legends springing up about him.
Beside him Tony seemed to sense that that was all the answer he was going to get and dropped it. Or maybe he was distracted by them reaching the tower.
He looked up at it, the gutting of the penthouse visible even from here.
"My poor baby," he murmured, "All the work Pep and I did down the drain."
Harry was surprised to see real grief coloring his face, and looked up at the tower again.
He supposed this had been Stark's brain child, a way to begin to make up for his history in the weapons industry. Clean energy.
Clearing his throat he drew to a halt.
Stark fell in beside him with an inquisitive look. In the background he could hear the team catching up and knew he had to be quick.
"I need to apologize for my part in the destruction." Harry said, falling back on the formality that had been trained into him throughout his careers. Especially since when he thought about it, at least half the damage in the penthouse had been at his wand.
Tired blue eyes blinked at him, confused at first before rapidly moving to forgiving.
Tony waved him off, "Don't worry about it. I was planning to upgrade most of it once Pepper turned her back anyways…"
Harry listened with half an ear as Tony launched into a tangent about all the improvements he'd been planning. About how it would be easier now that he could start over from scratch.
As the team caught up with where they were loitering outside the building, he wondered whether he should tell Tony how bad of a liar he was.
Instead he smiled.
The sun was just rising when Pepper's plane was finally allowed to land at a private airport outside the city.
She fidgeted with her phone, pulling up the call log up for the hundredth time and staring down at the missed call.
To be honest, she wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself for not answering that call.
She had limits for torturing herself though, and refused to listen to the voicemail again. The last time she'd almost started sobbing and had sufficiently freaked out her body guards.
The phone dropped back into her purse with a clunk as she stood and moved to the front of the plane.
What state would Tony be in when she finally reached him? The news was reporting him as alive but not whether he had been injured.
Shaking off the morbid thought, she ignored her guards' objections and descended from the plane.
The sky was painted gold and orange as beams of sunlight streamed through the nearby buildings and trees.
Unfairly beautiful when compared to her dour mood.
"Ms. Potts?"
Shielding her eyes from the rays she turned. Down the airstrip was a helicopter she hadn't noticed before. A woman was striding towards her from it. The blades were still spinning to a stop.
A recent landing.
"Yes?" She answered as she folded her hands behind her back.
The woman was dressed in some form of tactical gear and had a gun holstered at her hip.
Pepper tensed, about to call to her escorts, before noticing the emblem over the other woman's heart. That was SHIELD's logo. She recognized it from all those classified files Tony wasn't supposed to have shared with her.
She relaxed.
"My name is Maria Hill, I'm here to help you get to Stark Tower."
Maria offered her hand and Pepper automatically moved to shake it.
"You work with Phil?"
She paused, an emotion Pepper didn't know her well enough to recognize flitting across her face. "Yes. I work with Agent Potter too."
Pepper nodded, thinking back fondly to the car ride she'd spent with the second agent. He'd relaxed enough to joke with her much faster than Phil had.
It had been nice to be reminded that these intimidatingly efficient agents were humans too.
Maria stepped aside, indicating for Pepper to precede her, "Shall we? I'm sure you're eager to see Stark."
Well, that couldn't be denied. But first…
"Why are you helping me?"
The agent straightened her spine, a tinge of respect visible in the turn of her lips.
The sight amused Pepper, had the agent expected her not to ask any questions?
"I have agents with the team, I'm going to check on them." she shrugged, "You were on my way and I figured it couldn't hurt to have you with me. Smooth the way with Stark."
Pepper considered her and found nothing less than genuine in her expression. On any other day she'd probably have erred with caution and asked some follow up questions.
But it wasn't any other day.
"Alright, let's go then."
"Jarvis?"
"Good morning Ms. Potts. I've been asked to inform you upon your arrival that sir and his team are in the theatre room."
Pepper rose an eyebrow, surprised not just at their location but at Jarvis' briskness.
She didn't mind though, she was impatient to see Tony with her own eyes. To touch him and know he was alive and well.
"Thank you Jarvis."
Beside her Agent Hill paused, before following Pepper to the elevators. "Theatre room?"
Jarvis answered before she could, "Most of the penthouse was damaged in the battle. The theatre room was the only area large enough for them to sleep in."
Both women faltered, exchanging a look.
Pepper couldn't help but be a bit shocked that Tony had willingly slept in a room with other people. As far as she knew, she was the only person he felt safe enough to do that with these days.
Had the team bonded so fast?
In no time at all the elevator was opening to the penthouse floor.
Pepper stared at the desolation in front of her. Unconsciously a hand rose to cover her gasp.
A hand pressed to her lower back, gently ushering her off the elevator.
"Breathe Ms. Potts." Maria said, sweeping some debris away with her foot so they had a more clear path. "Tony is fine. Everything is okay."
Mentally Pepper clung to the reassuring words, repeating them like a mantra. Tony was safe. They weren't in danger anymore. She just needed to walk through the destruction, down a hallway and then she could see him.
The last thought gave her the power to get a handle on herself.
With a deep breath she pushed off, picking a careful path where her heels wouldn't unduly hinder her. Usually she'd kick them off, but there was enough glass and wood on the floor that she knew that would only end in cut feet and slower progress.
She didn't have to look back to know that Maria was following her, a silent shadow.
The trip down the hall seemed to drag, the walls and floor stretching before her. But she persisted, knowing the relief she would feel once she laid eyes on Tony.
And despite the seemingly never ending trip, between one breath and the next she was stopping in front of a set of double doors.
"Is this it?"
Pepper didn't answer, resting her hands on both handles.
She closed her eyes, breathed deep, and swung both doors open.
Harry blinked awake, at first sure what had woke him. Then he registered the beam of light entering the room from behind him.
An opened door.
Loathe to reveal that he was awake to whoever had opened the door, he took stock of what he could see without having to move.
He and his two agents were still where he remembered. Last night the three of them had commandeered the love seat recliner and sprawled across it. There had been minimal arguing before he and Natasha had managed to corral Clint into the middle.
His eyes flicked down. Barton was happily snoring and Natasha was curled against him, her head tucked under his chin. He was surprised to notice the Clint was using a familiar looking arm as a pillow. And that the hand attached to it was resting in Natasha's hair.
That was his arm. An arm that was so numb he couldn't feel either sensation.
He wasn't looking forward to the pins and needles he would undoubtedly get when he had to move that arm.
Shelving that for now, he continued scanning the room.
Cap and Thor, as the two with the broadest shoulders, had taken the pull out couch. Both seemed to still be sleeping deeply, though Thor had rolled to the point that he was half falling off the bed.
It didn't look comfortable.
Beside the couch he could just see Tony's leg from where he was sprawled in one of two armchairs.
Bruce was in the matching chair, or had been last night. He was just outside of Harry's line of sight. Maybe he was the one who had opened the door?
Just as he was preparing to shift and check who was at the door, there was a clicking noise followed by a flash of light.
Natasha's eyes snapped open.
"Up and at 'em Agents."
Careful not dislodge his dead arm, he seriously was not looking forward to how that was going to feel when he had to move it, Harry rolled over.
Maris grinned down at him, her phone still posed to take a picture. He had an awful premonition of just how he'd be blackmailed into helping next time Fury or Hill needed a favor.
Behind him Clint started to rouse, his movements jerky as he came out of it. He didn't have to look to check to know that Natasha was gentling him through the process. The she was making sure he knew where he was, who he was with, and that he was safe.
It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had had to do it for another, and it likely wouldn't be that last.
From behind Maria a second figure eased her way into the room.
Pepper Potts.
She hardly turned her head to look around, bee-lining towards Tony.
The sight made something nostalgic twist in his chest.
"What's goin' on?" Clint slurred.
Natasha shushed him but helped him sit up.
And there it was.
The feeling rushed back into his formerly numb arm and he had a hard time not groaning aloud.
He cradled his arm to his chest, trying to massage the pins and needles out of it.
Both assassin's noticed and snickered.
Maria tapped her shoe impatiently.
He sat up, placing himself between her and the other two.
Her eyebrow rose, as condescending as Snape had ever managed.
"If I wanted to take Barton into custody he never would have made it to New York." Her tone gentled somewhat towards the end. Perhaps recognizing that she would have reacted the same way in his position. "I'm only here to get a formal debrief and call in medical assistance if anyone needs it."
He glanced back over the team.
Both Thor and Captain Rogers were beginning to stir. Tony was still in his armchair, but was now very much awake and had his arms full of Pepper.
Bruce was not in his armchair but seated on the floor in front of it. He was in the lotus positon and, Harry assumed, meditating.
"I took care of the injuries. You can debrief us all over breakfast." he said after a moment, sure she would hear the implication.
They weren't under interrogation, and separate debriefs were not going to happen if he had anything to say about it.
That eyebrow was back again along with an eye roll.
"This isn't my first rodeo Potter, I know better than to split up a team so soon after a battle like that."
He shrugged, not in the mood to apologize for being protective of the team. The team that Fury had been so insistent he take under his wing.
It only seemed fitting that he and Maria reap the rewards that came with his acceptance.
She apparently understood at least some of what he was thinking because she moved the conversation on.
"I'll leave you to wrangle them then, I need to check in with the Director."
He nodded, "Let him know he can expect to see me later today."
Maria paused from where she'd begun to turn away, sending him an inquisitive look.
Behind him he felt Clint shift closer and knew without looking that both he and Natasha were ready to jump in if it looked like he needed it.
He appreciated the gesture, but he didn't need it. He stared down Maria.
In the end she blinked first, nodding her assent before retreating from the room.
"What was that about?"
He turned around to see that in his distraction the rest of the team had either fully woken up or finished meditating.
Steve, for he was the one who asked the question, crossed his arms over his chest.
It was a disconcerting image. Captain America's best 'you are going to tell me what I want to know' expression paired with t-shirt with animated food talking on it. One he'd borrowed from Stark no doubt.
Harry only found it a tad hard to take him seriously.
He fully disentangled himself from both the agents and the blanket twisted around them, and stood.
Taking a second to stretch, he considered an answer. One that was honest and yet vague.
If he was wrong he didn't want to be responsible for getting their hopes up.
"Just a suspicion I want to check on." He said once he finished.
"Loki?" Thor asked, making a logical connection considering the previous 24 hours.
Harry was glad he could honestly deny it.
With a growl Fury stalked away from his third meeting with the WSC in six hours.
Agents around him scattered, knowing better than to impede his path when he got like this.
Instead of turning left and going back to the bridge, he took a right, heading down an innocuous and suspiciously empty hallway. He stopped at the last door on the right, lifting his eye patch to use the retinal scanner that had just revealed itself.
He stepped inside, sagging with exhaustion one the door was safely closed behind him.
His private office, his inner sanctum.
It was a small cozy room, with a desk, computer, bookshelf and couch crammed into it. He had a separate, appropriately regal and intimidating office, where he actually saw agents and consultants. But this wasn’t it.
This was the one he used when he needed to reign in his temper. Or regain his composure.
"Am I intruding?"
He cursed, turning to see a figure reveal himself by pulling off a cloak.
"Potter." He growled.
The agent smirked at him, twisting his wrist. Fury watched as the cloak floated in the air, twisted in on itself and then disappeared with a quiet pop.
Show off.
With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, "What do you want Agent?"
"For you to not call me that again." There was a quiet thunk.
Fury glanced down to see that Potter had placed both his badge and Shield issued gun on the desk.
He frowned.
"Abandoning them so soon?"
Potter flinched minutely, before turning a menacing glare on him. He met it with one of his own.
"No, just Shield. They know how to get ahold of me if they need me." Potter answered, managing to sound remarkably respectful.
Fury knew it was a lie.
"What changed?" He had to know. According to his own predictions and what he'd seen of the agent since he'd forced him out retirement, he'd thought he'd stick around. That once he got a taste of adrenaline, got attached to the Avengers, he wouldn't be able to give it up again.
For a moment Potter didn't answer, rolling his shoulders and choosing to look around the room instead.
Finally, he looked back, his green eyes piercing.
"How's Phil doing?"
Fury stopped breathing.
Well…that explained a lot of this conversation.
He sighed, suddenly feeling his age.
"Still in surgery for the foreseeable future. We got most of his bodily functions back but we're still working on his brain."
Potter nodded as if that was the answer he'd been expecting. "He'll never forgive you for it, you know that right?"
"Yes. Which is why he'll never know."
"Right." Potter said, his fists clenching at his sides. "And that's why I'm done with Shield."
He moved to the door.
"Wait." Fury stopped him, one last thing to be sure of before the former agent left.
Potter stopped but he didn't turn back.
"Are you going to tell them?"
'Them' being the Avengers.
"I don't know. If they ask I'm not going to lie." Potter shook his head, "Barton and Romanoff deserve to know."
"Let me be the one to tell them."
This time Potter did look back, his eyes examining him.
Fury straightened up.
Potter nodded, "Alright. But that's the last favor I do for you Nick."
He turned on his heel and left the office.
Fury sighed again, moving to drop onto his couch. He titled his head back to stare at the ceiling.
What was one more lie?
He was 'The Spy' after all. He lied for a living.