Chapter Text
The first thing that tipped Bob off that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be was the confused expression that flickered over Loki’s face when their eyes met.
Honestly, before that, Bob thought he was in another one of those… Shame Memories. Trauma Daydreams. Depressive Shared Flashbacks. Whatever they were called. It’s not like he had a lot of control over them- occasionally he’d still stand a little too close to Ava, or shake hands with Walker, or high-five Alexei, and… whoops. Most of them had taken to standing a few feet away from him. He couldn’t fault them for that.
And sure, if he had thought about it for more than a few seconds, the whole ‘shame visions’ guess sort of fell apart. He was alone in the tower when this particular flashback started. None of his teammates were even in this room right now to be potentially traumatized by this memory (barring the possibility that Yelena wasn’t stowed away in the rafters right now. He wouldn’t put it past her). Also, he had been feeling pretty okay for the day. Nowadays his powers only really set off without him meaning to if it was a Bad Day.
And yet, despite all odds, here he was. In… he supposed it was Stark Tower, at this point in time, considering the giant windows overlooking the familiar carnage of the Chitauri New York attack. And here he was. Making eye contact with Loki.
And that eye contact is exactly what gave him pause. Generally, his Misery Remembrances played out like movies- exactly how they originally happened, without acknowledging the viewers at all. So at first, when Loki looked at him, Bob had turned to look over his shoulder.
Nothing.
So Loki was looking at him.
The Trickster God’s brow furrowed, and he jerked his chin up to gesture in Bob’s direction. “Who…?”
“Nice try, Rock of Ages.” The Back of the Iron Man Suit and Therefore Presumably The Tony Stark snorted. “We’re not exactly going to fall for ‘look over there’.”
“Terribly sorry to interrupt,” a pleasant, vaguely British voice sounded from the ceiling. Bob jumped in surprise, bringing his hands together to worry at the seams of his sleeves. “But it does appear as if there is another in the room. Directly behind you, twenty feet.”
It’s almost impressive how exactly half of the Old Avengers turned towards him. In a split second, he had a bow and repulsor trained at him- as well as the equally-as-threatening calculating gaze of the first Captain America.
“Woah, woah!” He put his hands up in surrender immediately. It had a good track record of helping him not get shot by a ragtag group of superpowered vigilantes in the past.
“Who are you?” Captain America demanded, his grip tightening on his shield.
“Uh.” He gulped. “Bob.”
Iron Man raised an eyebrow judgmentally. “Bob.”
“Uh, yeah. Bob, that’s me, I’m, uh… Bob.”
“‘Tis a trick,” Thor said, not turning his gaze away from his brother for a second. “An illusion conjured by my brother to help him escape.”
“I’m not so sure.” Hawkeye tilted his head. “He seems too solid. And JARVIS probably wouldn’t have mentioned his sudden appearance if he didn’t have a heat signature, weight… or whatever other indicators he can measure.”
“Uh,” Bob raises one of his hands a bit higher to gesture vaguely with it. “I can confirm I’m not an illusion.”
“The possible illusion doesn’t get a vote.” Iron Man scoffed, but he lowered his repulsor to stride forward and gently prod Bob in the shoulder. “But he is, in fact, solid.”
“Alright, new plan,” Captain America took over with a decisive nod, tightening the straps of his shield. “Thor, Barton, Hulk- you three can take care of Loki. Widow, Stark, and I will figure out what’s going on with… Bob, here.”
Obligingly, Thor hauled his brother up by the wrists- and the god had gotten so caught up in the melodrama of Bob’s appearance that, by his shocked expression, he seemed to have forgotten he was being held hostage- and shoved him towards the elevator. Barton picked up the scepter and followed, pointing Hulk towards the stairs, much to his chagrin.
Black Widow and Captain America joined Iron Man by Bob, who had hesitantly lowered his arms as the tension seemed to dissipate a bit.
“So if you’re not an illusion,” Iron Man began conversationally, “how exactly did you infiltrate a high-security, multimillion dollar home built by the best weapons manufacturer of this generation?”
“I don’t.. know.” Bob was starting to feel deja vu at the situation. “I just sorta… showed up here. I’m not sure how.”
“You’re not sure?” Black Widow asked flatly. “You accidentally snuck past dozens of SHIELD field agents and into close quarters with at least two spies, three superhumans, and whatever Stark is?” She gestured to Iron Man, who gave her an unimpressed look.
This close, Bob could see similarities between her and Yelena. The two weren’t physically related, of course, but they shared characteristics- the way they stood. The hand always resting on a weapon. The carefully blank face. Though all those probably had to do more with the traumatic assassin program than the same fake family.
Bob distantly registered his hands were shaking.
He took a single step away from the three Avengers, which instantly put all three on guard. “Sorry! Sorry.” He tugged at the hem of his sweater. “I just wouldn’t stand too close. I’m a little on edge, right now, I think, and I don’t want to accidentally, um-“ he wiggled the fingers of one hand in their direction. “ fwoosh you.”
“Don’t suppose we could get a little more information on what ‘ fwoosh ’ing us means?” Iron Man said incredulously.
“Voiding you.” Bob replied automatically, only realizing how little that specifies or comforts after all three heroes manage to tense up even further. “Look, I realize how weird this and how this isn’t probably comforting but I actually don’t know how much I can say, here. Like, how much is safe to talk about. I think I might have… dimension hopped? Time travelled?” He laughed nervously, looking out the window at the ruins of New York once more. “I’m not from here. And I don’t want to accidentally mess something up by saying something off.”
The Old Avengers exchange an unreadable look, seemingly debating amongst themselves what that was supposed to mean. Eventually, Black Widow nodded decisively and looked back at Bob. “If you are telling the truth- and understand, that’s a pretty big
if
- then we do need to be careful. And if you’re lying, which is a lot more likely, then we have a pretty different set of questions for you. But regardless, we’re going to take you in.” Her hand came up to rest on her Widow Bites almost unconsciously, not that Bob needed any more convincing. “Whatever your story is, you can tell it to Nick Fury.”