Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Okay, you expect Halloween to bring out the crazies. But this was a little...extreme, even for them.

 "Zombies?" Tony groaned, more scandalized than anything else. "Seriously? I'm missing my party to fight freaking zombies?"

 "It fits the theme" Clint pointed out from his perch atop the church tower. The bell tower had come in handy for a good view of the sprawling cemetery.

"At least the two of you don't have to smell these things" Steve complained "Yuck! My hand went through that one's head!"

 Natasha laughed "I think Tony packed hand sanitizer"

 Jokes aside, the damned things kept coming. For every walking corpse they cut down, another clawed its way out of a grave. Of course, there weren't really enough graves here to overwhelm the team, but these corpses had living people who loved them.

It wasn't a long forgotten burial ground. There were fresh flowers on most of the graves that vomited out their dead.

Steve tried not to think too much about that as the shield decapitated a zombie that looked fresh buried and barely eighteen. The kid looked like she had died in a crash or something.

The news drones circling overhead swooped down for a closer look. His over active imagination supplied the picture of her parents watching the battle on live TV, and it was all he could do to keep from aiming the shield at the drone next.

"Hawkeye, any sign of our target?"

The only blessing about this mess was that they already knew what was going on.

Not World War Z, regardless of Tony's initial declaration (apparently, both SHIELD and the ScienceBros had plans regarding what to do in the event of a zombie apocalypse – Steve didn’t find that at all reassuring).

 Just one of the regular mad geniuses that had a taste for conquering the world. Only, this one had decided to go the magic route than the usual science route, and had even less common sense than normal members of the class.

 "Not yet" Clint admitted.

They knew the guy had to be somewhere in the graveyard so as to control the horde - but it was a pretty big graveyard, and even Hawkeye would have trouble sorting through the melee of zombies vs Avengers.

 "Where's Strange, anyway?" Tony demanded "Isn't this kinda stuff his jurisdiction?"

 "He called this in" Steve reminded him "He's stuck in a fight with Mephisto, Drumm has got his hands full with that vampire problem and Wanda is negotiating with Chthon."

Halloween - and though most don't know it, the dark months of the year  after that - is the time when borders between the worlds are thin. The time when the mystic defenders of the realms are usually trapped in battle day in and day out.

 None of their usual magical big guns could be spared to handle minor incidents like a zombie army. Which was why the Avengers had been called in to take on something a little out of their usual comfort zone.

Strange, Drumm or Wanda could probably shut down the zombies with a flick of the wrist and a few weird rhyming words. The Avengers would have to do it the hard way.

 "Hey, if we shut this guy down, the zombies won't go feral or anything, will they?" Clint worried.

"That possibility is negligible " Steve hoped the mystics on SHIELD payroll was right about that, or this would be getting a whole lot dirtier.

 "Maybe we could lure them out with brains?" Tony suggested " Given mine are too pricey to be donated, we could get Hulk to change back and-"

Hulk's enraged roar drowned out whatever Tony was about to say. The zombie nearest to hand for the behemoth was sent flying at Iron Man.

"Tony didn't mean it, Hulk" Steve reassured him, over Stark's indignant squawks about having to dodge friendly fire in the form of flying zombies.

 "Guys" Clint's voice went from mocking to professional "I've got eyes on our Frankenstein."

"Location."

Clint called out positions, interrupted occasionally by Tony's protests that the guy didn't deserve the dignity of being nicknamed Frankenstein, given Frankenstein had had the sense to go the science route.

In a moment, Steve and Natasha were closing in on the necromancer, carving their way through his zombie human shield. Clint played air support, clearing the path with some well placed arrows. Hulk and Tony took over keeping the horde contained.

 “Hurry up, Cap!” Tony called over the comm. lines “I want this wrapped up in time for dinner!”

 The necromancer, now that they could see him, didn't look like much. A middle aged guy, grey haired and wild eyed, clothed in what looked like an emo dark version of Strange's sorcerer clothing. He even had a cloak, black instead of scarlet, though his (fortunately) didn't seem sentient.

 "Surrender!" he screamed the second he caught sight of the Avengers. "Surrender and your ends shall be merciful!"

“Yeah? How about no, thanks?" Natasha suggested.

"Arrogant fool!" The guy was practically foaming at the mouth. Steve was beginning to feel a little concerned about witnessing a possible aneurysm "Even you shall fall under my command! For I am the sole master of the slain!"

Hela might have something to say about that - but then again, this guy was clearly too small time to attract her attention.

The wanna be master of the slain made a gesture with the weird shaped piece of wood - some kind of a wand - he was holding. It started to glow a little, but that was all it had time to do before the shield knocked it out of his hand.

The effects were immediate. The fog covering the cemetery vanished, and the team on the ground once more had a clear line of sight. The necromancer let out an anguished scream. As if someone had pulled a switch, the zombies dropped, all at once.

"I suggest surrendering" Steve said.

Natasha had already grabbed the wand, holding it wrapped in a cloth. Can't risk the chance that the thing had some level of mind control powers. Those were usually based on skin contact. The necromancer glared at him.

 All in all, things were going pretty well. The bad guy was down if not out, and it looked like they were indeed going to be able to wrap up this mission in time for dinner, even if Tony had to miss his party invite.  

“We’re ordering Thai this time” Tony declared pre-emptively.

Steve kept his attention on the wanna be conqueror, but had to point out “It’s Bruce’s turn to pick.”

Tony groaned “No way! My taste buds still have PTSD from that masala thing he ordered last week!” 

Steve, who had enjoyed the dish – and unlike Tony, had not attempted to practically inhale the whole plate in one go – smirked. “Still Bruce’s turn to pick.”

The necromancer – now securely held between Clint and Natasha – continued to glare, focused on Steve. “You dare mock me? Me?”

 “Kinda tough not to” Tony commented, truthfully this time “I mean, Thor at least looked hot doing his Shakespeare in the Park routine.”

 The man’s eyes darkened further

 “Mark my words” his voice changed slightly, taking on a deeper, echoing tone “You shall soon witness my true power. You will tremble in terror and pray for death.”

His eyes were fixed on Steve.

Truth be told, no one paid much attention to the words. It was the standard supervillain threat, so cliché that B-Movie companies should already have trademarked it. All of them had scarier foes swear vengeance, usually more than once. 

The job was done. No one was hurt, except for the usual crop of minor cuts and bruises. The zombies were inactive, the necromancer in custody.

 Of course, there would have to be a massive clean-up, but that was thankfully SHIELD’s business to handle. They had enough experience, after all.

The procedure from there on was routine. Hand over the baddie to SHIELD. Listen to Agent Coulson go mother hen.  De-brief with (and in Tony’s case, receive at least one death threat from) Director Fury.

 No one had done anything particularly insane and/or disastrous this time (thank heavens), so the de briefing proceeded with unusual ease.

 Perhaps they should have been worried when one of the junior agents hurried in, looking like he was about to walk the plank, and whispered something to Hill.

But it was just after a fight. They were tired. Wanted to get back to movie night. Plus, this is SHIELD – Fury has about a dozen world threatening crises a week usually, and most of them don’t require Avengers level response.

No one had spared much thought to it. Perhaps they would have, had they been aware the junior agent was one of the team in charge of monitoring their wanna-be Frankenstein’s transport to secure holding. 

In any case, no one, not even Bruce, spared much brain space to worry about the fight.

………………………………..

Steve loved Movie Night – partly because he still had the impression of movies as something that had to be watched in a group, partly because  it was an excuse to cuddle unashamedly together.

Fury had rolled his eyes at the Avengers Puppy Pile visual the one time he had walked in on and complained that they looked like a bunch of teen girls at a sleepover, but he had been trying to hide a smile as he said it.

Besides, who the hell cared? Steve liked the warmth, liked feeling the heartbeat of his comrades, his new – and admittedly questionably sane – family, all around.

Especially after a fight, even one that had ended perfectly well like this one  - the unspoken reassurance that they had made it through, once more. That they had won, they were together, they were alright.

That won’t be true every time, they knew. There would come a day when the fight wouldn’t end so well. There would come a day when…

Well, this was not that day. And right now, that was all he intended to think about. His team was home, home and safe.

 Tony nuzzled into his side,  which would have been slightly more romantic if the genius was not wolfing down garlic smothered noodles at the same time.

Steve smiled. It was okay. They were okay.

And if some premonition warned otherwise, wiping the smile from his face for an instant, well, it could just be chalked up to an overactive imagination – and possibly to the mushroom chicken carton he was half way into.  

………………………………….

Coulson frowned at the agents “What do you mean, vanished?”

The group, to their credit, met the senior agent’s accusing glare straight on. The time for apologies and groveling would come later on. Now they needed facts and facts alone.

“We tracked him into the Pleasant View cemetery” the team leader reported, standing ramrod straight.

All of them were looking at possible demotion and certain reprimands in the near future. Yes, the prisoner they were guarding was an Avengers level threat, but they were trained exactly in order to contain such threats.

 The Avengers could not be on call for every event – regular human agents had to able to play their parts as well.

 Usually, they were good at it, assisted by specially commissioned StarkTech (Fury bitterly complained about how far above the budget the damn things were priced – but Coulson knew perfectly well that the actual cost was less the reason for the unfortunate Director’s irritation than Tony’s smug look every time SHIELD had to renew the contract). 

But this time all the training and equipment had not been enough to prevent the guy from slipping through their fingers.

“We had eyes on him till the last moment – we saw him vaulting over the Cemetery wall and into the burial grounds. We followed, but he had vanished.”

 “You lost him” Coulson concluded.

The agent shook his head “No, sir. He vanished. Literally. Disappeared. We had eyes on him, as I said. And an instant after he had scaled the wall, a couple of us were atop the wall too – we would have seen him, no matter what route he took.”

 “Unless he vanished. As in, literally vanished into thin air.”

The lead agent nodded, fully aware what he sounded like.

 But then again, they were talking about a guy who had persuaded the entire well behaved population of a quiet suburban cemetery to go Zombie Apocalypse, so skepticism of all kinds had better be left at the door.  

Coulson glanced at the agents who had accompanied him, made a slight gesture and walked out. They followed.

“Sir? Do we call in the Avengers?”

 Coulson paused. He was basically there to represent the team, given his unofficial status as an honorary Avenger, not to mention the official status as the handler (or, as it usually turned out these days, supernanny).

 The escapee was Avengers Level threat if and when it came to actual confrontation – no arguments there. But right now…

He knew his team perfectly well – the news of an escape would bring them all in, even after the fight they had just been through.

 But the fact of the matter is, there was next to nothing the team would be able to do. No real options, not till SHIELD got a lock on the fugitive, or at least some indication as to where he was headed. 

Right now, the regular agents – the paper pushers – were the ones needed. People who were trained for this. People with the resources and clearances handy.

“No” Coulson decided “Not yet.”

The Avengers had done their share of the work – for the day, anyway. Let them enjoy their Movie Night – plus whatever latest insanity Stark  managed to bring in. For now, the regular humans were on watch.

Chapter Text

“Tony” Natasha warned  “Another word about how teleportation violates the rules of physics, and I’m going to tell Pepper exactly how her car got trashed.”

“But it does!” Tony waved his hand about, just missing Bruce’s face “You can’t just convert matter to energy and to matter again, I mean, you can, but that’s gonna be a nuclear explosion kind of thing! This is not how it works!”

Bruce sighed “Tony. This is a space opera made in the sixties. This is not how any of it works.”

 Tony shot his science bro an ‘et tu Brute’ look. “The laws of physics, Bruce! The laws of physics!”  

“I may not be the most up to date on science,” Steve commented “But I’m reasonably certain Bruce violates the Law of Conservation of Mass whenever he changes.”  

Tony threw up his arms in despair and slumped back into the sofa, still pouting about the  science of Star Trek.  Clint reluctantly supposed the sideshow was over and went back to his mental debate on whether Kirk or Spock was the hottest.  

Steve got up, stretching. “Anyone want more chips? I’m going to get some.”

Tony came out of his pout long enough to shout “I want a soda!”  

Steve had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

…………………………………………..

“No trace” Nick Fury frowned at the screen “We have half the agents in the place running after this Voodoo guy and no fucking trace?”

 Coulson met the Director’s glare with his best bland expression “This seems to be a little outside our jurisdiction, sir. We may have to contact Dr. Strange.”

 For any outside observer, the director’s expression remained in the oh-my-god-I’m-surrounded-by-idiots-and-can-I-get-away-with-throwing-a-few-off-the-helicarrier look he had maintained throughout the conversation (well, that was sort of his default expression…) But Coulson had enough experience with his superior to notice the approaching Red Alert signs.

 “That, agent, is a very good suggestion” Fury growled “If not for the small problem that the realm’s Sorcerer Supreme is no longer in said realm.”

Oh. Yes. That’s how they had ended up stranded with this issue in the first place.

 Dr Strange’s last known location, according to a slightly exasperated Wong, was in Mephisto’s realm – now both sorcerer and demon had vanished, out of any tracing device’s range.

“Then shall I contact Dr. Drumm, sir?” Coulson suggested “It is unlikely he will be available to assist at the moment, given recent events in his area, but we could use a consultant.”

 Fury took another look at the report that had been submitted, steeled himself and nodded.

………………………………………………

Clint’s musings on the comparative attractiveness of Captain Kirk and Mr Spock (Spock was winning – those ears, man, those ears…) was interrupted by a crash from the kitchen.

 “You alright in there, Gramps?” Tony called.

 “I’m okay!” Steve answered after too long a moment – his tone had Natasha and Tony already on their feet, Bruce and Clint following.  Steve never sounded shaky.  

Clint wasn’t entirely sure what he had expected to find in the kitchen, but it was just the kind of  scene you’d have imagined form the crashing sound.

 A shattered glass tumbler on the floor, Steve standing next to it, unharmed and frowning.  One of Tony’s reprogrammed – and possibly sentient – roombas had already come over to clean up the mess.

“What?” Tony demanded, scowling.

Clint had caught the look of alarm on his face when he had practically bolted upright on hearing the crash, so couldn’t really blame the guy for getting snappy.

 Steve looked at them, then back at the glass “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Tony rolled his eyes “Apology accepted. Now stop with the kicked puppy look and get me my soda”

 Bruce had already strolled back to the TV, but Natasha and Clint hesitated. The assassins had caught a peculiar tension in Steve’s posture.

 “Steve?” Natasha moved closer “You alright?”  

Steve paused a moment before answering “Yeah, I, uh, I’m okay. My hands just dropped it. Some weird muscle spasm thing.”

Supersoldiers don’t get muscle spasms.

 “Starting to show your age, Rogers?” Tony questioned, grabbing a soda for himself from the fridge. All the same, there was concern in the glance he sent to Steve.

Steve shrugged, starting to blush a little at the others’ reaction “Just got clumsy for a minute there.  I’m fine.” 

He patted the roomba apologetically, and made as if to walk back to the common room, but stopped suddenly “You guys hear that?”

……………………………..

Nick Fury agreed with Tony Stark on one matter and one matter alone – magic fucking sucked. Or rather, dealing with magic and magic users in general did.

  Magic is a wild force. It has little respect for natural laws and no respect for human ones. It is unpredictable. Uncontrollable.

 The Director of SHIELD did not like things that were beyond his control.  Especially when said things were forces that could tear apart the universe if one of the wielders had a very very bad day.

 Yes, SHIELD had a veritable army of mystics  on pay roll – but one of the perks of being the Sorcerer Supreme is that Strange basically has authority over all magic users in the realm and some beyond.

Which meant Fury took all that the paid mystics had to say about the guy and anything he might be involved in with a huge pinch of salt. Just as well they were dealing with Jericho Drumm this time.

 Drumm specialized in Vodou magic and psychotherapy – appropriately  codenamed Doctor VooDoo  - and was the next in line to be the Sorcerer Supreme, if and when Strange finally got his idiot self killed.

Well, technically there were a bunch of people in line, but given the only other one with equal potential happened to be Dr. Doom, everyone reasonably sane was rooting for Jericho.

More importantly, the guy  was one of the very few powerful magic users who also happened to be more or less sane.

Even if he happened to have the ghost – okay, spirit, Loa, whatever  – of his dead twin brother hanging around and occasionally possessing him (at least, they supposed it was something like possession – no one is really clear about just how the twins’ dynamic works)

 Coulson returned from making his call, looking the Coulson Version of Concerned.

“Report” Fury ordered.

 “The guy is trouble” Coulson confirmed what they had known ever since the lunatic showed up on their radar “Drumm doesn’t know him personally, but he can make a few educated guesses on the matter. If he could get here and deal with the guy directly, he would – it is serious enough for that. But he’s dealing with a vampire coven right now and they have called in a few heavy hitters. If he gets to a population center, he’ll be bringing the vamps with him.”

 Of course. It was apparently too much to ask of the universe to have only one major crisis scheduled at any given time.

 “His assessment of the situation?”

“Threat level Tokyo.  From what we’ve been able to find out, Drumm assumes the guy is a bokor.”

 “Voodoo priest? Isn’t that about the same job as Drumm’s?”

 “Apparently not. Drumm is a houngan. Bokor, according to him, serve with both hands – code for, can and will use pretty dark dark magic if they decide they want to.”

Great. But not exactly anything more than they had already known of the guy.

“Does Drumm have any ideas just where this guy is likeliest to bolt to?”

 “That is the problem, Director” Coulson admitted “Drumm doesn’t believe this guy would run. He will stay. He sort of has to stay.”

 “Till?”

“Till he has taken revenge.”

……………………………………

“Hear what?” Natasha asked.

Already she and Clint were back in assassin mode, senses primed to scan for any and all incoming threats. There was nothing she could hear except the normal noises of the Avengers Tower.

 Steve frowned “You don’t hear it? It’s…sort of getting loud…”

 “What?” Tony demanded. He was starting to look a little unnerved. 

“Drums” Steve’s eyes had taken on a rather distant look “Drum beats… They sort of sound like a heart beating. They…sound weird…”

 He staggered. Clint moved to catch him “Hey, Cap! What’s-“

“I don’t know!”

“JARVIS” Tony called “Can you hear anything? Sensors picking up anything off?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, sir”

“Steve?” Bruce moved closer “What do you feel?” 

Steve tried to reply, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a cry of pain. A deep slash like a claw wound opened down his hand, blood spurting out.

“What- How-“

“There’s something invisible in here” Natasha’s knives materialized in her hand so quick it looked like summoning.

 “JARVIS! The suit!”

 In an instant the team was in a defensive circle, everyone scanning for the invisible threat.

 Steve grabbed a knife from the counter with his uninjured hand “Did you feel anything move? Anything brush past you?”

 “No.” Natasha frowned “But we should have.”

That was right… They had all been clustered close around Steve when the attack – whatever it was – happened.  If something had reached through the group to get to him, they should have felt it move past. Invisible doesn’t mean intangible.

“JARVIS can’t find anyone who shouldn’t be here” Tony reported “Nor can the suit”

 “Can you still hear the drumbeats, Cap?”

Steve nodded

“Not as loud as they were – but they’re still there. They had stopped for a moment before…before whatever it was struck.”

……………………………..

“What do you mean he has to stay?” Fury frowned “I suppose you don’t mean in a too egoistic to know when to fold manner?”

Coulson shook his head

“I’m afraid not, sir. According to Drumm, the loas they associate with – Houngans and Bokors – are different. Different loas have different sets of rules, and anyone who is in deep with one of them has to follow their rules. If not, they will be facing loss of power at best.”

“And Drumm has to follow the rules of his loa?”

That was valuable information – Nick Fury stored it away for use in the future. They needed to get more details on the matter…just in case they needed a situation where Drumm had to be dealt with.

 “Yes. But this guy – a bokor who can and will do what he has done – has to be following  some pretty…complicated loas.”

Drumm had attempted to explain said complications, but admitted there wasn’t enough time and settled for the CliffsNotes version.

“Their rules include vengeance. The bokor was thwarted in his aim. He has to take revenge on those who thwarted him – otherwise he would have brought down dishonor upon himself and his loa.”

Coulson had the feeling Drumm had dumbed down a lot of the explanations due to lack of time – but the basics were there. And said basics were more than enough to know they should be very very worried.

“What you are saying is that we have a crazy necromancer guy and whatever spirits he’s got in tow-“

 “It sounds more like they have got him in tow, sir”

“Whatever. Basically, they are after SHIELD.”

“Or after the Avengers. They were the ones who did the actual thwarting part.”  

“Yeah, probably. But he’s going to have trouble getting his discount store zombies into Stark’s little fort. He might go for easier targets” Fury turned to the nearest monitor, calling up locations of cemeteries nearest to SHIELD facilities. “Give them a call, though, ASAP. “

……………………….

“What the hell just happened?” Tony demanded to no one in particular.

He was standing guard over (a very embarrassed, and slightly alarmed) Steve while Bruce bandaged up the wounds – which wasn’t made easier by the fact that none of them had any clue what exactly he was supposed to guard against.

“You should get this looked at in a hospital” Bruce suggested, eyeing the wounds with a worried expression “I mean, we don’t have a clue what made it, but it looks sort of like claw wounds. You might need a rabies shot or something. Or it could have some kind of venom.”

“I don’t think so” Steve commented, taking a closer look at his hand “It’s already starting to heal. It’ll be gone by morning if I’m lucky.”

 “We are never lucky. Plus, it could be a slow acting venom”

 Tony groaned “Brucie, science bro feels aside, could you stop reminding us that whatever we are in here with is not just invisible, but potential rabid?”

 “The perimeter is clear” Clint reported through the comm. “We’ve combed the place – no one here in the Tower except us.”

“At least, no one and nothing that we can locate” Natasha added.

“I informed you of as much, sir” JARVIS pointed out. The AI sounded slightly offended at the idea that his testimony was doubted and had to be corroborated by two humans.

“Sorry, JARVIS” Steve looked up at the ceiling (Tony had commented repeatedly that JARVIS was not in the vents, but everyone had somehow fallen into the habit of looking up when talking to him) “But in all the horror movies the cameras never see the ghost.” 

Tony rolled his eyes “We’re legit considering ghosts as a possibility now?”

 Bruce snorted “Tony, we just finished dealing with a zombie army.”

“Speaking of the zombie army” Steve said “We had better call Coulson and ask what our Frankenstein is doing.”  

He winced slightly. The sound of the drums were growing louder again.

Chapter Text

“What the actual fuck, man?” Clint barked into the phone.

Tony pricked his ears at the change in tone. Okay, something that gets Katniss to bark at his Agent Agent? The level of trouble they were in just got upgraded.

 “And you were going to tell us, when? “

Another pause. Steve leant a little closer, listening to Coulson’s end of the conversation. He was frowning slightly. Tony echoed the frown, even though he couldn’t hear whatever it was that the supersoldier hearing was picking up.

 “Oh, really?” Clint’s voice went up another octave in sarcasm “Well, got some news for you – our big bad voodoo guy’s picked his target. And it’s Cap, not SHIELD.” 

Okay, Tony might be a bit pissed at their handler for keeping whatever it was he didn’t tell them up his sleeve, but he knew that bit of news would have knocked  Agent Fanboy out of his shoes. Or as close as it came with Coulson, anyway.  

“Yes, Cap.  No, he isn’t hurt bad – yet. But if this guy can-“

“Did Jericho say anything about a way to narrow down this guy’s location?” Steve interrupted. “I don’t know much about Voodoo rituals, but from what Wanda says, some kinds of magic can be worked only at specific locales. By running water or under a full moon or something.”

 Clint paused, and relayed the question.  “Yeah, Phil, we know SHIELD is looking for the bastard.  But you know who is going to be sent in to bring him in, anyway.”

Clint listened for a few moments, then hanged up “’Kay, Phil. Good hunting.”

  “So it is our Discount Store Strange?” Tony asked.

 To be honest, all of them had begun to suspect that part – after all, drum beats, magically appearing wounds…

“More like Discount Store Drumm this time” Natasha – of course she must have been hearing Phil’s end of the conversation too, just how is he the only one on the team without super senses? – corrected. “We’re talking Voodoo, not whatever interdimensional weirdness Stephen plays with.”

“Whatever” Tony threw up his hands – again, why was he the only one heading into panic mode? – “What’s the plan? How do we get him?”

“We narrow down his location” Steve said, with his usual annoying Captain America calm “Clint, did Coulson send the location criteria?”

 Clint looked down at his phone, frowning a little “Yeah… But it doesn’t do much narrowing down – he needs a grave for this particular spell, but that doesn’t mean he’s restricted to cemeteries. It just needs to be somewhere someone was buried. Preferably someone who died a nasty death, but not really necessary.”

 “There can’t be very many of those, either” Steve suggested.

 “Probably not” Clint agreed “But they’re gonna be tougher to find. Like, maybe a place where the local gangs get rid of snitches. Or maybe some old forgotten graveyard somewhere. There are forgotten places. A lot of them. Even SHIELD won’t have complete data on it.”

“And this new-in-town guy would?” Tony scoffed. “He’s gonna be scanning obituaries”

 “Nah” Clint shook his head “According to Jericho, this guy’s got corpse radar. He’d know where the bodies are buried – literally.”

“Great.” Steve was frowning slightly. Tony could almost hear the gears whirring “Tony. You said how that new satellite system of yours were equipped with the latest in scanning tech.”

 “You were listening to that part? You had zoned out by then!”

 “I was sort of listening” Steve shrugged, wincing slightly when the movement jarred his hand “Sorry, but you do get a bit...techno babble-ish when you’re excited. I translated this part right, didn’t I?”

 “Yeah, but…why?” 

Much to Tony’s shame – he would later blame it on his panic mode brain – it was Bruce who caught on first. “That’s right! They’re powerful  enough to scan the ground… And bodies give off a specific mineral residue when they decompose.”

Tony finally caught on – and promptly slapped himself on the forehead for not thinking of it first. Dammit, he’s supposed to be the resident genius!

“Might pick up animal remains by mistake” Natasha cautioned .

Tony shrugged off that problem “I’ll have JARVIS set the parameters –he can filter it out”

Tony already had his phone in hand, typing out orders to whoever was on duty at the SI. He wasn’t sure where the satellites were at this point, but it shouldn’t take too long to reposition them if they weren’t in position…

  “And once we finally get a lock on him, then what?” Bruce asked. “If we are actually dealing with someone who can puppet us around…”

 “He can probably do only one at a time, or he’d already have grabbed us all” Steve said “Besides, if as Jericho said, he is after avenging his honor, he sort of has to go after the team leader.”

 “Yeah, realign!” Tony snapped at whichever Stark Tech scientist was unfortunate enough to be on the other end of that call “Yeah, I know how it’s done, screw that data! It isn’t like anyone but us is using it anyway. Yeah, now! What d’you mean you can’t, I told you… Oh. Um. Okay, do it ASAP!”

 Steve chuckled. Bruce looked askance at him. “The poor guy on the other end of the line just had to explain to our resident genius that he couldn’t change earth’s orbit pattern.”

Tony glared at the pair and cursed supersoldier hearing yet again and tried to reboot his brain out of panic mode. He was useless if he freaked out.  And it wasn’t like he was the type to freak out, anyway, when did that change?

 But there’s something uncanny about this.

Something that should not be happening. Okay, the majority of things the Avengers deal with are things that shouldn’t be happening, but this is… Out of place, even by their standards.

Magic. Tony hated magic. No rules. Nothing to hold on to. Okay, some rules, but none that made any sense. 

And now someone was using magic to hurt them – hurt Steve – in the Tower.

That’s the worst part. In the Tower. The Tower is their place, their sanctuary. Guarded by Tony’s systems. Nothing’s supposed to be able to get to them in the Tower.

 “The satellite will start scanning the area in about thirty minutes” he reported “I guess we’re pretty sure he is in the city, right? This Voodoo thing got a range limit? By the way, Cap, if we… Cap? Steve?”

Steve was no longer paying attention to them

“The drumbeats” his voice had taken on that distant tone again “They’ve stopped again.” 

They tensed, waiting. Steve looked down at his own hands, clutching the knife he had grabbed from the kitchen during the first attack  – somehow he had brought it along without really intending to. This was getting ridiculous. He shouldn’t, this shouldn’t… The silence was getting to him. It just didn’t…

His hands – hand, the uninjured one, the one clutching the knife – moved. Steve cried out more in surprise than pain as it clenched around the knife – and brought it up towards his own face in a lightning fast movement.

The Black Widow doesn’t have super soldier strength, but she has the speed. Her hand gripped Steve’s just in time, and the knife that was meant to stab out his eyes only left a deep slash down his face.

It happened so fast that by the time anyone but Steve and Natasha knew it was happening, it was over. Natasha wrenched the knife out of his still resisting hand and sent it clattering to the floor, from where Bruce swiftly grabbed it out of reach.  

And then it was over, the momentary control broken. The drum beats started up again.

“What the hell?” Tony tried to keep the panic out of his voice “Steve? Bruce, is it-“

“I’m okay” Steve protested “It just… It’ll heal.”

 “Yeah, let me” Bruce supposed that part was true – the knife had missed Steve’s eyes, where the puppeteer had forced him to aim

“You are…you know, you now?” Clint asked cautiously, looking at the knife.

 Steve nodded “The drum beats started again. I think I’m okay till they stop.”

“We’ll have that bastard taken down before they stop again” Tony declared.

“He’s not doing all that much damage” Steve said.

“He almost got you to stab your eyes out!”

“Yeah, but if he was trying to blind me, he could just have done it directly “ Steve pointed out “He made the cuts on my arm appear without any weapon, he could have taken my eyes out the same way.”

“He is playing” Natasha answered , her eyes cold “Guys like that, they thrive on fear. He wants us to know what he can do. He wants us afraid.”

 “And he’s a freaking idiot” Tony added “He wants us afraid? He wants us pissed off? Don’t know about the former, but he’s gonna get the latter if I have-“

 “The satellite scans and JARVIS can tell us where the guy is” Steve interrupted. They had to get back to the plan “Or at least, where he is likeliest to be. Once we get to him, we-“

 “Wait” It was Tony’s turn to interrupt “We? You aren’t going.”

 “We had better get you to SHIELD medical” Bruce agreed “I mean, there’s no telling what this lunatic would do next. Till now, he’s just playing, but if it gets real, if he tries something like, I don’t know, stabbing you in the chest or something…”

 Tony winced at the visual.

“No” Steve declared.

“No? No what?”

 “I’m not going to SHIELD medical.”

 Bruce tried not to roll his eyes. It was as if he had to have this conversation practically every time one of his teammates got injured or sick. Okay, no one likes to be in the hospital, but it wasn’t like they had to be all macho about it.

“Steve, there’s only so much I can do if-“

 “And there is much that this Voodoo guy can do” Steve said “Like, that thing with the knife. He made me stab myself – what if next time he makes me stab someone else? Makes me attack someone?”

Oh. Crap. Tony had to admit he had given little thought to that part of the equation. If their Voodoo guy had a Captain America puppet in his hands…

 “I agree with not joining you in the field” Steve conceded “He might be able to use me against you. If he is smart, he will use me against you. But I’m not going to risk being in attacking distance of normals, either. Here, in the Tower, if it happens, you guys can take me down. The…episodes…don’t seem to last all that long. You’d just need to hold me down or something long enough for it to pass. But if I’m forced to target regular SHIELD agents…” 

Tony summed up the situation in some very expressive swear words.

……………………………….

“Did I mention I fucking hate magic?” Tony asked, pacing across the room for the umpteenth time.

“Only fourteen times today, including this” Steve answered, not looking up from his sketchbook, sketching something left handed.

Tony hated how calm he sounded, how calm they all looked. Okay, for Bruce staying calm was sort of necessary, but…

Seriously, why was he the only one taking this seriously? Someone was trying to freaking murder Captain America, they couldn’t even risk taking him to a hospital, and everyone’s acting like, like…

 Even Tony had to admit he was being stupid. Of course they were all worried. It was just that all the others were professional enough to understand that there was nothing they could do at the moment.

Not till they found out where the guy was. Not till those damn satellites finally got into position. Then they would move out.

They had the plan – plans, of course Steve would come up with a minimum of three contingency plans beside the original – figured out, minor variations to be added as and when they got a clear look at the location.

All were mission ready, except for Bruce who was on medic duty for this round. They could compensate without the Big Guy, but Steve definitely needed a doctor on call.

All they could do was wait. And waiting was something Tony Stark had always sucked at.

 “Oh” Steve stopped sketching, putting the sketchpad and pencil away carefully.

“What?” Tony demanded, as if he didn’t already know.

 “The drum beats stopped again” Steve still managed to sound Captain America calm, waiting for whatever it was to happen next. “It’s only twenty minutes from the last time. Before that the interval was almost thirty minutes.”

“Guy is putting on speed” Clint commented with a pretended nonchalance.

 Natasha glanced around the room, making sure that there were no weapons within Steve’s reach.

 “Steve?” Bruce was standing slightly back – if the guy made Steve hit out or something, they couldn’t risk the Hulk putting in an appearance.

“It’s-“ Steve started to say, then suddenly stopped.

Tony was looking at Steve so intently as if he thought he could keep him safe that way, but it took him a moment to notice what was happening. Mostly because Steve didn’t make a sound. A bloodstain seeped through chest level of Steve’s T-Shirt.

“Oh. That is…” Steve looked more surprised than pained.

Chapter Text

“Tony” Steve repeated “it isn’t that bad. Really.”

Tony knew that was true – it wasn’t as bad as he had, they all had, thought it was in those first couple of terrifying moments.

Tony at least had been convinced that the bastard had finally tired of the game and straight up stabbed Steve through the heart. Having a piece of flesh gauged out from just above your heart isn’t exactly a good thing, but given the circumstances…

 “It will heal. It’s already healing, I can feel it.”

“I know” Tony hated hated hated that Steve was trying to comfort him instead of the other way round.

“Well” Natasha said softly “We all know what the guy is driving at, don’t we?”

“Showing off” Bruce agreed “Cat and mouse game. He wants us scared, losing our heads and doing something stupid.”

The doctor was already doing quiet breathing exercises, trying to keep flashes of green from his eyes. The Hulk could do nothing here.

 “Or the bastard just gets off on it” Clint commented, intently examining an arrow that seemed already in perfect working order.

“That too, I guess” Steve leant back into the sofa, resolutely ignoring the sound of drum beats.

 “Sir” JARVIS interrupted “The satellites are in position.”

Tony moved almost as  fast as the suit itself could have done. “Run scans. You’ve got the algorithm already, J”

They had narrowed down a few possibilities – the guy would want somewhere more or less isolated and easily defensible if it came to that, a place with enough bodies (or at least bodies that died particularly violent deaths) to give him a power boost, according to Jericho. Preferably, but not necessarily, somewhere near to-

“Got it!” Tony shrieked as the algorithm finally spat out a location.

 “Where?” Steve asked.

Tony grinned. Now that he had an actual target, an actual bad guy is here site that he could blow up from the orbit, the panic was fading. He could set this right. They could set this right.

…………………………

The Avengers were excellent at the superhero part of the job. But when it came to basic field work, SHIELD agents were the professionals.

 Coulson was never the more thankful that Stark had actually called in the location to them as soon as he knew. No doubt having Cap hovering over him had something to do with the decision, but the agent is certainly not going to look  a gift horse in the mouth.

“Dammit” Hill swore. “Are you sure, agent?”

“Yes” Coulson’s tone was curt, but certain. He knew only too well what this meant.

“Call it in to Stark ASAP. The last thing we need is Iron Man out of action.”

“Already called it in.”

………………………………………

“What the hell?” Clint yelled above the roar of the quinjet engine. Tony was too busy swearing in half a  dozen different languages to answer.

Natasha did it for him instead. “No tech within the guy’s perimeter. Nothing, and by that yes, I mean nothing. Coulson and team found out the hard way.”

The SHIELD team had been close by the location Stark’s satellites pinpointed – they were not supposed to intervene, simply establish a perimeter and observe, then provide field support once the Avengers turned up, which was guaranteed to be in a matter of moments.

Only to have one tech guy keel over immediately as his pacemaker quit, and all present cell phones and assorted spy gadgets malfunctioned with greater or lesser levels of spectacular. More than a few exploded. 

“There are spells that can do it” Steve commented over the comm. channels “A field that disrupts technology – Strange tried it once.”

“This guy is no Strange” Tony tried to point out, but it was a lame excuse even for him.

“Too risky” Steve decided. “Iron Man, return to the Tower. Hulk will take your place.”

 “Hulk?” Tony practically yelped “Steve, I’m pretty sure I can-“

 “A pacemaker exploded, Tony.”

 “The Arc reactor doesn’t do explosion! I mean, not unless I want it to, I can make it go pretty explodey again if I want to-”

“Too unreliable” the brief slip of the mask was past and Steve was back in Captain America mode “If the area is under an effect that can disrupt tech, the armor will be of limited use. Might even become a liability. We need at least one reliable heavy hitter in the field.”

Tony knew only too well that the idea made sense – he had had one too many brush ins with Strange’s own tech disruptor spells not to take this seriously.  An inevitable side effect of some spells, according to Strange. This time, possibly a bonus or intentional piece of work.

 This guy is not as much of an idiot as your classic run of supervillains, some kind of demon possession induced revenge compulsion or not (at least, that is what Tony understands the situation to be, going by Jericho’s explanation such as it was) He no doubt noticed who were the major powerhouses during their first fight.

“Go” Natasha ordered, slipping into the pilot seat he had just vacated.

“Steve, you need a doctor- Bruce is…”

 “Needed out there” Steve countered Tony’s reluctant protest, without even waiting for the whole sentence to be out of his mouth. “Report to the Tower, Iron Man.”

There were times when even Tony Stark knew enough to shut up and obey. The quinjet hatch opened at command and Iron Man leapt out.

………………………….

The suit is fast. Faster than the quinjet, in fact, at least when short distances were concerned. Given only less than five minutes had passed since their departure from the Tower, Tony wasn’t prepared for the deterioration in Steve’s condition.

“What did he do?”

Steve, lying back on the couch, with Bruce hovering over him doing his trademark mother hen impersonation, tried to smile reassuringly, but the effect was somewhat  ruined by how banged up he looked. Face paper pale. Sweat drops standing out against his forehead, creased in combination of pain and worry.

 “Nothing serious. Just a few burns.”

“Burns?”

“Already healing. Get Bruce to the site. Widow and Hawkeye will need backup.”

 Bruce’s expression made it clear that, given the slightest choice, he wouldn’t be moving an inch from his patient’s side. However, all of them knew there was no choice, slight or not. They needed the target down. Needed to stop him from doing anything worse to Steve.

 And there was absolutely no way even their resident spy twins could do that alone without heavy hitter assistance. Especially, given the no tech zone meant Widow’s Stings and at least half of Clint’s special arrows were out of action.

 The SHIELD  folk would be around and eager to lend a hand, but without tech, there would be little they can do. Even with Coulson leading them. The Hulk was needed.

“Come on.” Tony held out a hand to Bruce. “You gonna be okay holding on like Cap does? Or shall we do the bridal carry?”

 Bruce hesitated, then reluctantly opted “Bridal carry”

Steve and Tony had somehow managed to perfect their ‘hug and fly’ posture as Clint called it, but the very idea of just…latching on to the smooth, murderous metal of the suit like that was enough to send Bruce’s heart rate skyrocketing. Something that none of them wanted to risk. At all.

“I’ll be back ASAP” Tony promised.

 “I know” Steve agreed.

There was no need to talk about the change of plans. Someone had to stay with Steve. Tony was no doctor, but they had JARVIS watching, JARVIS could talk him through what had to be done if it ever came to…

Okay, to be honest, Tony was doing everything he could not to think about what might happen. He couldn’t go into panic mode again, not like he did at first. Dammit, this was way easier when he thought he’d get to blast his way out of the problem!

Neither Tony nor Bruce said anything during the three minutes or so it took to reach where Clint and Natasha were waiting along with the SHIELD teams.

Tony didn’t really pause long enough to actually land, just deposited Bruce on the ground before the agents like a rather unwieldy parcel and took off again. Back to the Tower. No one commented.

  “Ready, doctor?” Coulson asked.

Bruce nodded curtly. His eyes were already starting to glow green, but they all knew he had enough control to wait till the order was given.

 “Hulk is usually okay with taking orders from Natasha” he said “But right now…he’s pretty mad. I don’t know just how reliable he might be.”

Cap was the only one who had an actual, reliable, chance of directing Hulk in battle – the big guy seemed to actually like Rogers, probably because the first order given him was ‘Hulk, Smash.’

“Doesn’t matter” Coulson commented, already turning away to brief the rest of his team “We just need him to do what comes naturally. The chaos will give Widow enough cover to get to the target.”

 Chaos. Bruce nodded. Yeah, he could definitely do chaos.  Especially with the Hulk growling about Cap getting hurt and Puny Bruce not being able to set things right. 

“What is this place anyway?” Bruce had blanked out much of the briefing – hearing more about what was happening would have been too risky when the plan was to keep the Hulk out of action.

“The Punisher” Natasha explained, checking her daggers “Mob boss party of some kind – huge scale - happening in the basement of a warehouse that used to be here. Castle crashed the party, arranged for some explosives, and more or less buried about eighty or so tough guys including the bosses, staff and bodyguards alive. The building’s rubble and remains were removed, but given the characters involved no one wanted to give out accurate information on who and how many were present. Things got hushed up, the bodies never really got dug up.”

 “Okay.”

Alright, mobster zombies. Less guilt involved in smashing them up into jelly.

 “If he’s following a similar plan” Coulson was talking, when Bruce shifted his attention to him – it was tough to multitask attention when Hulk was this close to the surface “He will likely have the zombies surrounding him as guards. We’ll need to make our way through – or rather, act like we are trying to make our way through. Don’t get too close – not close enough to make him nervous. “

 If the guy realized they were getting close enough to matter…Coulson is pretty sure Voodoo dolls come with insta kill options. Even for super soldiers.  They had to take this guy out before he knew he was about to go down. Would take some finesse. The original plan involved snipers, but…

 “The guy has got either mystical protection or some kind of weird body armor. Normal arrows can’t be trusted to make an instant kill shot, and with the tech disrupting field any high tech kind of sniping is out of the question. “

 “So we hit hard and fast, but not too hard or fast. Make cover for the Widow.”

“Yes. And if nothing else works, you shoot the Voodoo guy’s hand off – he would be holding the puppet for his little trick to work.”

Clint winced a little “Um, Phil, I’m not one for false modesty, but if whatever happens to the doll happens to Cap… That’s gonna be hell of a risky shot.”

“I know – that’s why it s the last resort option.”

…………………………………..

“Don’t get out of the suit” Steve ordered.

Tony frowned “Come on, Cap, I just flew through the upper atmosphere in December. The outside of the suit’s gotta be freezing.”

 “I know – it will warm up soon enough.”

“I could just-“

“No, Tony.”

 “Steve…”

 “I might hurt you. You know that.”

 “You won’t. Plus, I can call the suit in seconds”

 “Not fast enough. Better to just wait it out.”

Okay, he knew Steve’s orders made sense, they always did, but that didn’t mean he liked obeying them. Especially not right now. Not when it meant he couldn’t even touch Steve.

He lifted the faceplate anyway. Steve looked like he was about to argue against that too, but kept quiet at the look on Tony’s face.

“How long has it been since the last…uh…”

 “Episode?” Steve smiled at the genius’ attempt to find a suitable euphemism. “Six minutes. It’s… I guess it’ll be happening soon again. The beats are about to stop… Unless the team takes him down before that, of course.”

Tony nodded curtly. Unless the team took him down… He was supposed to be out there, doing that. He should be. There he could do something, anything. Here…

Tony Stark hated feeling helpless. Hated being handed a problem he couldn’t fix. And he hated it the most when someone went after his family and he couldn’t stop them.

Chapter Text

Tony hated waiting. For anything, good or bad.

 Even in Afghanistan, the actual torture sessions hadn’t been as bad as the intervals between them, the time spent waiting and imagining what they would do next, what was coming. Turns out it is even worse if you are not the direct target of the torturer.

 “I’ve ordered JARVIS not to respond to any of my direct voice commands till this is over” Steve said, sounding way too calm for Tony’s liking. “I don’t know whether this guy can control what I say, but if there is a chance-“

 “I can override any commands, anyway” Tony pointed out.

Actually, he wasn’t entirely sure whether that was true any longer. He was officially the boss still, but the Tower becoming Avengers Tower had changed the dynamics with JARVIS as well.

He’s pretty sure JARVIS wouldn’t take any command that would mean directly harming Tony, but other than that, if he and Steve, the official leader, gave conflicting orders… They haven’t tested that scenario, and Tony has no intention of testing it.

  “You may not hear. Or you may be distracted. Better not have the risk. Wait, what are you-“

 “Getting the gauntlets to retreat” Tony glared, daring him to protest “If you won’t let me take the suit off, at least I’m gonna make sure I’ve got my hands free to do first aid if it comes to that.”

When it comes to that. Not if. When. Dammit. He hoped Natasha or Hulk wouldn’t kill the Voodoo guy. He had plenty of ideas on what to do with him once he was in custody.

 “The suit’s hands are agile enough to-“

“They aren’t.”

 “But I’ve seen you-“

“Cap, I made the freaking suit. You think you know what it can and can’t do better than I do?”

 Well, to be honest Steve’s not wrong. The suit’s fingers have been designed to be as delicate and capable, if not more so, than the engineer’s own. There’s no telling when a mission might require some in-suit engineering.

But that did not mean they could be just as capable of helping a wounded comrade. Iron Man’s place was out in the battle field, and he had been proved useless. Steve needed Tony, not Iron Man. He needed a friend. 

“Tony-“

 “No arguments, Cap. Executive decision.”

 “No, it’s not that. It’s him.”

 Tony’s eyes widened in horror “What? What is he..Where does it hurt, what can I do, what should I do, whattheohGodI’museless-“

 Deep breath. Stay calm. Stay calm.

 “Sorry. I’m not freaking out. I really am not, anymore. What’s wrong?”  

Steve seemed to not have noticed his initial freakout – a pretty bad sign in itself. He was hunched forward on the sofa, curling in on himself “I…don’t know…  My chest hurts. Hurts to breathe. Like…got punched. Really hard.”

Fuck. Hurts to breathe? Pretty sure that translated to serious levels of bad. Rush to the emergency room kind of bad.

 “JARVIS?”

 “Running a scan” the AI responded, robot-calm as ever, but Tony had gotten used to catching the nuances “Three broken ribs. Major bruising-“

 Broken ribs? That’s the sort of thing people died from, right? In the doctor shows it was really bad if someone had a broken rib because broken rib meant punctured lung and punctured lung meant no breathing and-

“Sir? You are hyperventilating.”

“I am?”

 Oh God, I’m utter freaking useless!

 “Tony?”

 “I’m here, Steve” In an instant he was at Steve’s side “It’s gonna be okay, it isn’t all that bad-“

 The captain looked sort of amused “You…do realize I can…hear JARVIS, right?”

 Oh. Yeah.  Way to be a caretaker, Tony.  “Um. It isn’t that bad- really. Not if you can still talk. And breathe. Kinda. You can, can’t you? No, don’t talk, talking is probably bad, just nod. Unless it hurts. It doesn’t hurt. Does it? Nodding, I mean? Breathing probably does, I’m sorry, I’ll get some ice to put on it. Or we could go to SHIELD med wing? I could get you there in-“

 “No. Not going anywhere.”

 Okay, still stubborn. That was probably good. Especially since arguing meant he had breath enough to argue. 

“JARVIS, we have ice cubes somewhere there, right? Putting ice cubes on broken ribs is  a thing, right?”

“Yes to both questions, sir – there’s an abundant supply of ice cubes in the mini bar three feet away.  Putting ice cubes on the visible bruises is part of the first aid. However, immediate medical attention is still advised.”

 “Not an option right now, J” Steve put in before Tony could respond to the last addendum “Sorry.”

…………………………………..

Natasha moved as silently as possible through the zombie army. The first time she and Steve had been able to simply carve their way through – but the voodoo doll in the lunatic’s hand meant this was the stealth round.

Which was not usually a problem for the Black Widow. Stealth was, after all, what she was built for. Only, zombies are not just a lot less distractible than your average living specimen, but also seem to be gifted with super senses.

 A living, breathing piece of flesh in the midst of a zombie crowd was always going to be the center of attention for every undead within a set radius.

She could only hope that whatever chaos Hulk and the SHIELD agents were causing would be enough to keep the Bokor’s attention long enough. whatever ripples her passage was making had to be dwarfed by Hulk’s performance. 

Hopefully, their target would believe they were again trying to brute force their way through like the first round. The SHIELD team even included a red haired female agent about Natasha’s size so that the target might assume all Avengers available were part of the frontal attack force.

 If they were lucky. Given the way their day had gone, Natasha was pretty sure luck couldn’t be counted on at this point.

“Clint” her voice was too low to be picked up even by zombie ears, but the comm. piece (the agents had dug up the oldest set they had – it wasn’t working quite the way it should, but it was less likely to explode than the newer, better models, or so they hoped) would magnify it enough for the archer perched out of sight somewhere in the dark “Do we have eyes on the target?”

 “Not yet” To anyone else, the reply might have sounded casual, relaxed. Natasha could catch the undercurrent of frustration and fear in it. “He must have ditched the fancy costume.”

 The guy’s equipment, as well as much of the costume, was still in SHIELD custody. Unfortunately, according to Drumm, most VooDoo tools were open for improvisation.

 If the guy was smart – and she refused to assume he was anything but – he would be dressed somewhat similar to the zombies he had called up. Blend in. this was going to be tough.

……………………………….

“Steve?”

 “Trying to take a nap here, Tony.” 

“A nap?” Tony was not sure whether or not he had just imagined the slur he heard in Steve’s tone, but he was pretty sure wanting to – or being able to, for that matter – take a nap in their current situation did not mean anything good healthwise.

“I’d better get some rest when I can – I’ll need it” Steve explained, reasonably.

It would have sounded more reasonable if he could manage to look at least slightly more than half conscious when he said it.  

“Uh” Tony fumbled the ice cubes “ I don’t think you should… You might be going into shock. Or something. JARVIS…”

 Did super soldiers even go into shock? Or did the serum cancel that out? Even if it normally did, would it do so now, what with having to work overtime to damage control the voodoo guy’s attacks?

 “The captain is not currently going into shock” JARVIS responded promptly  “His vital signs are within acceptable limits for him, given the circumstances. However, he is exhausted – it might well be beneficial to rest while it is possible.”

 Steve made a clumsy gesture that was probably meant as a thumbs up, but his hand dropped limply to his side before he could complete it.  

Tony moved closer, willing himself to stay calm. It was going to be alright – the team was on the ground. They just had to last a few minutes longer. Not more than that. Surely not more than that. They knew what was at stake.

 Probably Nat would deal with the bastard before he got in another attack. Or maybe Hulk would get there first.

He wished Steve would stay awake, though. He could sleep when this was over, when they knew it was really going to be alright, he was going to be alright.

 Steve went really really still when he slept, corpse-still. More than once Tony had come across him napping on a couch or sofa or something and been tempted to lean closer and make sure he was still breathing.

 Really still, really quiet, even when he was having a nightmare – even then he managed to be quiet, somehow.  Sleeping like the dead. Not a phrase he wanted to think of at all right now, forget in association to Steve.

Stop it, you idiot. Let him rest while he can. You are the one who has to stay alert, stay on guard.

On guard for what? What could he do, except watch?

Be there. Don’t pretend you don’t understand the difference it makes. He is always there when you are sick or hurt, isn’t he? And before him, before the team, Rhodey, Pepper… You know the difference it makes when there is someone at your side.

 Even if they can do nothing to fix things. Even if all they can do is watch and hold your hand. So do that. Be there. Help him ride this out, whichever way he wants to, needs to.

…………………………………

Natasha spotted their target before Clint did, much to his later shame when they would debrief on the mission. All the same, it was hardly surprising.

She flinched a little as the comm. piece suddenly let out a  harsh shriek into her ear, loud enough for her to half believe for a moment that it had exploded after all, then went dead. a second later, it was obvious why – she was too close to the guy’s…what, radius of effect? 

If not for the comm. piece’s reaction, she might even have missed him amidst the zombie mob. No theatrical central position this time. In the midst of the horde, moving through it. Lips moving ceaselessly in some chant. Something – the Voodoo doll, no doubt – clutched carefully in his left hand. right hand moving in almost dance like gestures as he wandered amidst his zombie army.

The guy had done what she thought he might have – blended in with his corpse army. Perhaps more deeply than he had intended. It was not just the dress – even though the old ‘Discount Store Strange’ look was gone.

No cloak, no fancy sorcerer trappings. Just the kind of not quite casual not quite formal stuff Frank Castle’s targets had been wearing the hour of their deaths. Something he could have – and probably did – grabbed from somewhere after his escape from custody.

But more than that, there was something clearly…wrong about him, and not in the way it already had been.

His skin was ashy grey, eyes sunk so deep in their sockets that they looked like the empty windows of a skull. His movements were not so fluid as they had been in their first encounter. It was not a zombie shuffle, not yet, but it clearly took too much effort – and possibly pain – for him to move normally.

No wonder even Hawkeye had not been able to spot him from the air. The summoner looked more like one of his army than anything else.

 Natasha remembered what Drumm had said – the guy had tainted the honor of the beings he served by allowing himself to be captured.

She knew perfectly well what it is like to serve masters who will not accept failure as an option. No matter what. He had failed. Bit off more than he could chew. Now he was taking the punishment. Punishment that would end only when he had… atoned sufficiently.

 And atonement here meant vengeance, didn’t it? Most of the time, that was the only kind of atonement such masters accepted. All mistakes had to be expiated in blood – either your own or your target’s.  

 But then why take it slow? Why play cat and mouse with them if he was himself suffering every moment Steve – or the Avengers, in case he was planning to start on the rest of them – still drew breath?

…………………………………………..