33

Chapter 33: For The Cause Is A Part Summary:

In which Mistakes Are Made.

Notes:

Chapter-specific warnings: the usual [unreliable narrator, miscommunication, not Avengers friendly, dubious morality, etc] with an extra emphasis on the 'uncomfortably-close-to-Skynet!JARVIS' thing, especially because FRIDAY's got a moment this round, too.

As in, there's a 2001: A Space Odyssey reference involving it, and you'll know it when you it.

Also: a fair amount of comic book logic in terms of international law [done by someone who's main experience with it is via tv shows and Google, so fair warning], and a cameo of sorts from a character of Agents of SHIELD, hopefully it came across right; again, I don't watch the shows [not even caught up in the MCU] but I wanted to at least try to make nod to it.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Throughout the entire flight to Germany, Tony found himself tackling a conundrum he didn't know he had. Heck, if it weren't for Miriam Sharpe, Tony would've pressed onwards, so caught up in his mission to keep the world safe—but.

Who was he protecting, and was it worth it?

Tony'd worked hard for years now, picking up the pieces, cleaning up after the team. He'd ended up spending hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not significantly more, working with insurance companies and bureaucrats and first responders, trying to make sure things were taken care of.

New York, London, DC—with and without SHIELD, he'd put in…probably hundreds of hours, in retrospect, trying to make sure the world could carry on after the battle was over, and up until now, Tony'd thought it was all worth it. And to him, in a way, it was—he'd never, ever regret saving those burned SHIELD agents, or the creation of the Iron Legion—but…

How was it, that less than five minutes with a single mother, were able to rattle him so badly?

Tony'd tried to dismiss it, at first, after she'd gone. Tried to think that there was no way the team could be as bad as she'd been implying, tried to chalk it up to misplaced anger.

But he couldn't. Because now that he thought about it, when was the last time the team'd showed interest in the people they were protecting?

Steve and Natasha had never once asked about what happened to the burned agents he'd had to rescue, Hawkeye had sounded genuinely surprised when he'd seen the Helicarrier, Bruce was just gone, there were no words for what he felt about Wanda and Johannesburg, and—well.

That was the crux of the matter, wasn't it?

After Afghanistan, Tony had realized where he'd stood, in terms of systems surrounding accountability. He'd made some pretty damn bold moves, in the following days, because of it, had made a company renown for its weapons into a powerhouse geared to making the world a better place. So how was it, that he was defending people who, as time went on, looked more and more like they were guilty of the same?

He…hadn't intended to shield them, from the consequences. It was instinctive, for him, now, picking up the pieces because he was the only one with the power and ability to do anything about it, dealing with the fallout because it was the right thing to do—and yet.

Tony hadn't intended to shield the Avengers from consequences of their actions, hadn't realized he'd been doing it for years—why, why did he only realize it now?

The circumstances couldn't have been any worse, is the thing. Because dammit, JOCASTA wasn't ready yet, he still needed a decent stopgap, for his peace of mind—but was it worth it?

…thus the conundrum.

Intellectually, defending the team from Ross one last time was the right thing to do—especially given the type of man Ross was, the same sort of dangerous that Tony'd worked with, during his decades as the Merchant of Death.

Less than a day ago, Tony would've been far, far more enthusiastic about it, though. Wouldn't have hesitated for a moment, when he was called for help with dealing with the people in custody [Captain America, aiding and abetting a suspected terrorist? Just…what even]. Wouldn't have felt a moment of doubt, when calling for help from Legal, because Ross would undoubtedly try to use this latest turn of events to his advantage.

Funny, how things go.

Still. He had work to get done, and a planet to keep safe.

Even if he didn't trust the team as far as he could throw them, he hated Ross more. For now, that would have to be enough.

For now.

To: All SWORD Members [All branches]

From: Hill, M. Head Intel Officer, Director of SWORD [Communications, Security, New York branch]

Subject: Sit-Rep, Plans Of Attack

In light of recent events, Dr. Stark is planning on giving Ross hell over the SNAFU with the contracts. For those not in the know and have somehow missed the reason Legal's out for blood, Ross' trying to drag Iron Man into the Accords fiasco meant he tried to go after the same contracts that privatized world peace a while back.

That alone's basically a declaration of war, and given the lovely footage the world now has of Captain America being arrested on CNN, every single analyst on our payroll agrees that now's the perfect time for Ross to try and pull a fast one, which leads us to this:

Dr. Stark is currently en route to Berlin, having been called in to assist with the terrorist threat. The plan, as of right now, is to drop the hammer on Ross at the first opportunity, with no punches pulled.

As such, there is currently a small escort from Legal and Security accompanying him, and an open invitation to anyone interested in joining in on this project.

More intel to follow as the situation develops

—Hill

———————

To: Chan, A. Department Head [Legal, New York branch]

From: Rivera, M. Coordinator [Legal, New York branch]

Subject: It Happened Again

We have been contacted by the JCTC about the Avengers currently in their custody, asking about extradition and I think you can guess the rest.

I may or may not have had a little too much fun with reminding them Stark Industries is not affiliated with the Avengers.

Kinda wondering who's the poor guys stuck with the paperwork now, though

—Rivera

Natasha Romanov was doing her best to remain in control of the situation.

…it wasn't exactly going very well.

Seriously, though, why did Steve have to run off and do that?! Just.

He could not have given Ross more ammunition if he'd tried, and that she couldn't reach Stark was just the icing on the cake. Natasha was at her wits' end, trying to keep things from escalating further, by the time the man in question swanned into JCTC headquarters with a small entourage and an easy smile, still on his phone.

Typical Stark.

But at least, this, Natasha could work with.

…then she got closer to him, however, and she revised her assessment immediately, as he continued his conversation with whoever it was on the line.

"—not Accords-sanctioned, how the hell can it be when they're not even ratified? Do your research…oh, you can bet there'll be consequences—yes, you are more than welcome to quote me on that—" Stark continued in an unusually sharp voice, only cutting himself off when he noticed her. "Now is that all? I've work to do."

Great.

That his retinue had pointedly ignored her and Steve, when they'd tried to approach him, didn't help, and of fucking course Stark surrounded himself with yes-men at a time like this…actually, no, that was alarming on a number of levels, and didn't quite fit with her assessment. [Ugh. She was going to end up flying blind for this, wasn't she?]

Steve, meanwhile, had apparently missed the lawyers' reactions in lieu of latching onto Stark's conversation, as his brow furrowed and he leaned in slightly.

"Consequences?"

Stark scoffed. "You're being accused of international terrorism at the moment and Ross is being a pain in the ass, do you have any better ideas for dealing with the Secretary of State when he wants you prosecuted?"

Oh, Stark was playing hardball.

Still, Natasha needed to hammer out a game plan. Making nice was the least she could do, at the moment.

JARVIS analyzed the situation to the best of his ability, and his systems—as well as FRIDAY, and Vision—highlighted several vulnerabilities and variables that might throw a wrench into the works.

Specifically, FRIDAY brought to his attention the Enhanced female's plans to enter a public space, and the high likelihood that her presence might escalate the situation around the Avengers, which, given the amount of stress Sir was already under, was unacceptable.

Vision wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but…JARVIS was nowhere near as inclined to do so. [That she was also second on his Threat Assessment Index had no influence on his decision of the matter, nope.]

If the situation ever arose…JARVIS sent a datapack to FRIDAY, about it, mentioning the strong suggestion to restrain her by nearly any means necessary, if it meant preventing the situation from escalating further. The Enhanced female had never, not once, acted to help protect Sir's interests, and JARVIS highly doubted she'd start anytime now.

Of course, there were a few caveats—not showing the full extent of what they were capable of in regards to 'any means necessary', for instance, as Sir did not need further stressors in his life beyond what was already at hand—but…well, both he and FRIDAY were capable of being very creative if it meant it got the job done.

…now to monitor the situation Sir was in as discreetly as possible, because he didn't want to step on any toes and there was only so much he could do while remaining undetected while in others' systems.

Natasha was on edge in a way she hadn't been in years. Stark was acting strange, distant in a way she'd never really seen before.

And then there was his entourage.

She was trying to make nice, trying to help present a united front because they couldn't afford to look divided, not here, not now, but…Natasha was having a hard time tamping down her unease.

Because even if she hadn't acknowledged it, there were some familiar faces.

Strangely familiar, but what were SHIELD members doing here, at Stark's side, no less?

Was this some sort of op? If so, she hadn't heard a thing about it; and sure, part of it might've been because her network had been steadily shrinking over the past few years, especially after DC, but Natasha was a damn good spy, there was no way she could've missed something on this scale!

But that was something for her to ponder at a later date—at the moment, she was dealing with what felt like the most uncooperative group she'd encountered in years, even as Stark had pulled Steve aside to hopefully convince him where Natasha hadn't.

…then Agent 33 walked in, escorting yet another lawyer.

Natasha didn't frown, didn't react, she was too well-trained for that, but…that was the last straw.

Because the others? She'd only seen in passing—a tech here, an operative there, but Agent 33? What the hell was she playing at, at Stark's side?

So, she approaches her as soon as she gets a chance, because seriously, what?

"33? What are you doing here?"

The woman in question, however, didn't so much as blink, before pointedly looking around and pretending to check for anyone behind her. As if they hadn't worked together, in the past, as if they hadn't run countless ops for SHIELD.

Then, she gave a single bark of laughter, that was more of a scoff, and cooly replied, "I think you have the wrong person."

"Agen—" Natasha started, nearly at the end of her rope in terms of patience, only for Agent 33 to abruptly close the distance between the two of them.

"No, I think you have the wrong person." The woman cut in, leaning over the table and toying with a pen with a languid ease that fooled absolutely no one in the room. "Because me? I'm Kara Palamas. Administrative Specialist for Stark Industries International, I don't know who you're talking about."

"What are you—"

"I guess I just have one of those faces." Agent 33 said, finally looking up with a saccharine smile and a frigid sort of hatred in her eyes, "I get that a lot. But I'm Kara, I don't know who this 33 person is. From what I understand, she died in a HYDRA bunker in Europe? Tortured to death or something, I think. Very sad business, really."

That…caught Natasha far more off-guard than she'd expected.

More than she could roll with, at this point in time, because this, she hadn't seen coming, and even if she was good at controlling her reactions, she couldn't help but tense as she noticed the room, noticed the vicious smirks and baleful looks she was getting from everyone who'd entered the building with Stark.

Agent 33's smile, however, only sharpened, and she leaned in. "She wasn't the only one, either. You really need to think past the end of the mission."

Tony's patience with the situation was fast eroding, and maybe he was a bit shorter with the team than expected, but considering everything? It was the best he could do.

Even if he didn't like them, didn't trust them as far as he could throw them, the Avengers didn't deserve the Merchant of Death, not the way Ross did.

…didn't mean he wasn't having a hard time, though. Because he's glad-handing people left, right, and center, talking about contracts and just generally trying to put out the fires caused by Ross' machinations. It didn't help that the entire time, there was the niggling suspicion, that this was all a waste of time and energy, either.

Seriously, though, how did his worldview get so upended in less than five minutes?!

Because before, Tony wouldn't have minded—hell, he probably wouldn't have even noticed—when the people involved in this latest fiasco were showing more of the same, but.

But now, Tony couldn't unsee it, and it rankled.

Romanov's focus on the team had been understandable, before. Now, however, Tony couldn't unsee her disdain for him, and the world in general. She'd focused solely on the guys in custody, while Tony'd been quietly getting updates on how the Iron Legion was dealing with the tunnel fiasco, she hadn't seemed to care about the people caught up in the aftermath. [Again.]

However, even that, he could've been willing to work with, wouldn't have had much issue with wrangling Ross if it'd been just her, because at least she knew when to keep her head down.

No, Tony biggest problem at the moment was Captain America. […and wasn't that just ironic?]

Steve Rogers had a streak of stubbornness that crossed the line from nigh-insane and back again.

Growing up, Howard had waxed poetic about it, had described it as one of the man's virtues, had talked about it and moral fiber and whatever crap it was that made the man so damn special even before the Serum. Now, however, it was nothing short of the biggest pain Tony'd had to deal with, because it was downright impossible to drill it into Rogers' head that this was not the war he should be waging.

Not even that, either—it was like Rogers took personal offense to Tony doing his goddamn job, because yes, there were going to be consequences that'd need to be dealt with, and no, actually, now was the best time to do it!

Just.

Tony's patience wasn't exactly in the best place, at the moment, and having Captain America question practically everything he was doing because of the sheer amount of politics involved, was really fucking frustrating.

It was like he was practically immune to the idea of dealing with consequences, but that couldn't be right; Steve Rogers was Captain America, The Man With A Plan, there was no way he could miss the fallout of what was going on. If anything, his hyperawareness of anything involving his old friend should've meant he had this shit on lock, should've had a good idea of what to expect after having recovered the guy who was also HYDRA's legendary assassin because…well.

Anyway.

So Tony gritted his teeth, tried to dial back the Merchant of Death because what little patience he'd kept from his last phone call with Ross was being sorely tested, and did his best to carry on.

No, he couldn't punch Captain America, nope, no matter how strong the temptation was and Extremis meant he probably wouldn't hurt his hand—wait. Why was Romanov looking as his staff like that?

…and then the lights went out, because why the fuck not, and Tony was suddenly very, very glad part of the Security department had tagged along for the ride. [Huh. Having SWORD on hand—no, wait, that sounded like a bad joke, stop.]

It meant he didn't have to worry as much as he might've, otherwise, when protecting his people from the unexpected rampage.

FRIDAY had been passive-aggressively trolling the Avengers for the entirety of her time at the Compound.

She had taken an inordinate amount of pleasure in throwing in as many bad puns as she could manage within Ms. Romanov's earshot, and had done her best to mimic Siri, iffy voice recognition and all, but when her brothers gave her the heads-up to something going down with the A-Team [who had still yet to figure out she was trolling them, seriously? She'd thought they were smart], she set to work trying to prevent the situation from escalating further.

Hmm…Ms. Maximoff was sure looking like she was leaving the Compound, which was a major no-no because it looked like there was a small mob waiting for the team relatively nearby, and her internet research did not inspire confidence either…

Oh, bother. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures, that was her story if anyone asked and she was sticking to it!

[…okay, and she'd probably keep surveillance footage and share it with J and Vision, but still.]

Okay, now to try and avert a disaster before it happened, right.

Ms. Maximoff was trying to call an elevator? Okay, she could…um. Okay, she could fudge her clearance somehow, make it so that she couldn't go past a certain level, restrict elevator access. Yeah, that'd work. And if she had some fun with it? No problem, right?

Drat. Ms. Maximoff was really insistent on it. Oh well. Time to engage Plan H.

The elevator arrived as per usual, after the button for it was pressed.

The doors opened, as per usual, though she noted the bag Ms. Maximoff carried with her with some suspicion.

And, once she registered the floor requested—ground floor, to leave the building, what a surprise—FRIDAY…well, if she were human, if had a body, she would have smirked.

The elevator moved smoothly for the first few minutes, before grinding to a halt as the sensors and security system registered the discrepancy between Ms. Maximoff's clearance and the request made.

The way the young woman tensed, first in frustration, then anger, probably shouldn't have been as amusing as it was, but…well, FRIDAY had to get her kicks somehow, didn't she?

"What's going on? FRIDAY, get the elevator moving again."

No reaction.

"FRIDAY, open the elevator doors." Ms. Maximoff asked lowly, trying—and failing— to hide just how on edge she was, and if FRIDAY had a body, she would've probably been snickering by now.

However, as it was, there was only one way she could react, really. [No way she could resist the temptation.]

 "I'm sorry, Ms. Maximoff," she replied unapologetically, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

The young woman's face was worth the annoyance FRIDAY'd had to put up with since she'd first been integrated into the building.

Unfortunately, however, she'd apparently underestimated the reaction, as the surge of energy showed. Oops.

"What do you mean you can't—oh, Stark, it's probably—" Ms. Maximoff snarled, and that killed any humor FRIDAY found in the situation.

Time to bust out the Siri and Alexa excuses, then—oh.

Oh, dear, Ms. Maximoff's control was even worse than expected. She hadn't expected that, J and the bossman wouldn't be happy about this at all…

One energy surge turned into two, turned into three, and suddenly, FRIDAY was so, very glad her servers were housed off-site, because if they'd been nearby she might've been offlined by that last one—dear goodness, did she seriously just cause a minor blackout? Oh, no.

It was the last surge, however, that made her realize the extent of her mistake. Because a temporary blackout? She could deal with, probably. Figuring out how to remotely access the circuits and flip them back into position would be tricky, but doable, but…the last surge literally ripped a hole in the building, as Ms. Maximoff tore her way out of not just the elevator but the Compound as well, nearly incandescent in her fury.

Oh, dear…

Tony regretted not having his briefcase armor on hand, when the guys made their escape. However, he did not regret prioritizing the safety of the civilians in the area, at all, so at least it wasn't the worst day he could be having…

Then Ross swept in, head high and with what was quite possibly the smuggest expression Tony'd ever seen outside of Justin Hammer, and he couldn't help but reconsider.

"I don't suppose you have any idea as to where they are?" He asked with a smile, and in that moment, Tony felt the last of his patience with the man vanish.

"Not yet," Tony replied, deceptively calm. "But we will. Calls already made to watch the borders, an INTERPOL notice's already gone out, and—"

"You don't get it, do you, Stark?" Ross sneered. "You're off the case."

In another life, that might've taken Tony aback. Might've caught him off-guard, put him on the defensive as he scrambled for a peaceful resolution.

In this life, however, Tony just smiled.

Smiled, and reminded everyone in the room just why he'd been once called the Merchant of Death. [Well—almost. He could still hear some of his legal team talking with Romanov in low voices.]

"Oh, I don't think so." Tony said, and leaned in even as he felt acutely aware of the way Extremis coiled under his skin, and he tamped back the slight concern over that in favor of the matter at hand. "We both know you're planning on sending your hit squads, Ross, don't even start."

Ross looked slightly taken aback, at that, and Tony felt a tendril of dark satisfaction because…well. He clearly hadn't expected that, what a pity.

However, he recovered fairly admirably, and might have even been able to make things difficult, if JARVIS hadn't informed him of a recent development. So Tony pressed the advantage, made sure to stay on the offensive to keep him from recovering, tapping at his phone and projecting what he wanted onto the nearest screen without breaking eye contact.

"Ross, you see that shield?" Tony gestured to the frame, frozen at just the right moment to showcase Captain America's iconic shield in midair.

"My father made it. While it has been on loan in the care of Steven Grant Rogers for the past seventy years, it's still Stark Industries property, and as such I am entitled to a replevin. A writ for it has already been issued, in fact."

His smile was nothing but the Merchant of Death, now, and if Ross hadn't already been backing down before, he most definitely was now. 

"And if I can take them in, well, that's bonus, now, isn't it? Meanwhile," he paused, and glanced at his head Legal representative.

She strode forward with a vicious smile, and calmly handed Ross an innocuous-looking file. "You've been served."

As expected, Ross reared back, and Tony's smile only grew.

"Turns out that there's this thing called jurisdiction you forgot about. The Secretary of State's got a lot of power, but trying to interfere with the business practices of an international corporation?" He shook his head and tutted lightly.

Ross leaned forward, and snarled. "This won't go away so easily."

"Oh, that's the plan, Ross. That's the plan." Tony replied with the calm confidence that he'd mastered decades ago. 

Then, he tilted his head, and, mock-sympathetically, added, "I do hope you have a good lawyer. You'll need one."

Notes:

Unreliable narrator instances [buckle up, this one's going to be pretty long]:

—Tony's lack of self-awareness strikes again. This round, it took Miriam Sharpe to clue him in to what he was doing with the team; he hadn't intended on shielding them from their consequences before [to him, it was just the right thing to do], but now he's starting looking at the team in a different light, which should end well, probably. [Not.] He's overestimating the team in regards to long-term planning, because Tony's used to looking at things objectively and, since he's always been an outsider to the team, he's never had much cause to change. Also, again, Tony's a genius with a lot of resources who's used to running/help run a multinational company, he forgets that kind of experience isn't normal. Also, the Extremis thing? As he found out with Ross, it's dormant when he's stressed, but pissed off is another thing entirely. [The Merchant of Death now has a few extra things up his sle—oops, spoilers.]

—Natasha's finally encountering Legal and SWORD's grudge, which at this point, combined, is roughly the size of Russia. [aka finally starting to really see the consequences of her actions]

—Steve's lack of cooperation: here's where the butterfly effect's actually biting badly. Since Tony stepped back emotionally from the team a long while back, and has never been close, Steve trusts him less, and is way, way less inclined to go to him for help. Doesn't help that lately, Tony's giving off Lex Luthor vibes [accidental world domination ftw]. Also doesn't help that Steve's paranoid of anything that smacks of politics, after Project Insight, and Tony's looking pretty damn comfortable dealing with bureaucrats and name-dropping the WSC.

—JARVIS' Skynet might be contagious FRIDAY's very, very young, and still learning. However, she severely underestimated the extent of peoples' reactions, when trolling. [Oops.]

—on that note: Wanda assumed it was Tony's fault, right off the bat, instead of his AI doing what they do best. It helps that she hates him; before, it was mostly because of what we see in canon, but after being shot by the Iron Man suit, it's even more personal now. [...I did mention this fic wasn't Wanda friendly, right? Yep.]

—JARVIS, for his part, has Absolutely No Chill whatsoever where Tony's involved, and h a t e s Wanda. Note how he didn't even use her name, just 'the Enhanced female', because he has yet to forgive her for mind-whammying him, way back at the start of the AoU arc.

Here's where the hurricane part of the butterfly effect kicks in, if you guys hadn't noticed. Tony's not being as close to the team means things are going to go down differently, and, again, this is my attempt to rationalize canon as much as I can in a fic that's going to end in [accidental] world domination.

——————

Guess who survived finals? As always, however, between school and life in general, erratic updates are a thing that won't change anytime soon.

Please avoid bashing in the comments, people, this fic's supposed to be fun self-indulgence with the spite being more passive-aggressive than anything else. Also, this fic's plot has been charted out for over a year now, I am not deviating from it anytime soon, and it's wildly AU after Civil War because I'm nowhere near caught up in the MCU.