Avengers Fic: The Train Job
Steve heard the pen snap in his hands before he felt it, but suddenly it was in two and red ink was spilling down his fingers and onto his wrists. Everyone’s eyes were on him. He didn’t want everyone’s eyes on him.
“Sorry. Uh,” he looked up at Agent Fury, “Mind if I go clean this up, sir?”
Fury’s eye narrowed and he set the file he was holding down on the wooden conference table before putting his hands on his hips and answering, “Go on. We’ll take a break from the briefing.”
Steve stood quickly, holding his hands in front of him and heading for the hallway and the bathroom, trying not to get ink on his t-shirt and trying to avoid the gaze of his teammates as he left the bland meeting room. He stood at the bathroom sink and washed his hands, feeling his anger and fear and everything he didn’t want to feel during a briefing with Fury simmer quietly as he rinsed the soap and dark stains of the ink away.
When his hands were clean, he splashed some water on his face and wiped it off with a paper towel. He looked in the mirror and closed his eyes for a moment.
‘Is this payback for that time I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?’
He gripped the counter in front of him and clenched his eyes as he suddenly felt dizzy. He heard the bathroom door open and Tony’s voice, laced with concern, said, “Cap? What’s wrong?”
He opened his eyes and the room had stopped spinning, so he looked over at the inventor and tried to smile and shrug. “Nothing. Must have been something I ate. Just got queasy there for a minute.” He took a deep breath and let go of the counter, noticing how white his knuckles had turned.
Tony took a step closer to Steve. “Are you sure?”
Steve shrugged past Tony and opened the door. “I’m sure. Back to work, Stark, come on.”
By the time Fury finished explaining the protection duty detail they’d be providing for a batch of SHIELD scientists led by Banner, Steve had broken three pencils under the table. Fury had pulled up pictures of the train the group would be riding and had assigned each Avenger (except Banner, who would be a bit of a liability on a train and so would copter in to the test site) a lookout point on the train and at the research facility and had given them a dossier filled with four files about extremist groups and watch-list individuals who were possible threats to the trip.
The team would be escorting the scientists and their project to a remote research station in the Adirondack Mountains, an area safe for a test of the new weapons project. The trip itself would only take a couple of hours, and then they’d be keeping watch during the experiment at the research station. They were expected to be back in the city by evening. This meant, though, that they’d have to start early, so Fury sent them home to the Tower with instructions to rest and be back at headquarters around four in the morning.
“Who’s getting dinner?” Hawkeye shouted as they filed out of the meeting, and Tony offered to pick up some Thai food on the way back to the Tower. By the time Tony arrived with the food, Steve had disappeared to his room. He wasn’t hungry.
He took a shower instead, trying to wash away the fear, trying to wash away the images that flashed every time he blinked his eyes and thought about riding on a sleek train. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair, scrubbing his scalp incessantly; when he realized he’d been scrubbing long enough for two showers, he rinsed and turned off the water, pulled a towel from the rack and began to dry off.
After a moment he came to and looked down and realized he’d rubbed his arm until it was red and most definitely dry. After drying the rest of him and pulling on a clean pair of shorts, he walked through his sitting area and saw a tray on the armchair table. A plate of food, still steaming, sat on the tray, and so did a note.
Steve picked it up and read: Figured you were probably hungry but just not feeling social. If you’re actually sick, make sure you let someone know. See you early. - Bruce
Steve crumpled the note and hurled it across the room.
He left the food on the tray and continued on to the bedroom, falling into his bed, letting the sounds from the stereo that Tony had taught him how to program fill the room, and he closed his eyes, resigning himself to the images forcing their way onto his dark lids.
He woke himself up screaming for Bucky a few hours later.
It was two in the morning and he wasn’t about to try sleeping again, so he dressed, picked up the tray of cold food, and headed down to the kitchen. He methodically washed his dishes and then poured himself a glass of orange juice. He sat on the smooth leather couch with the files from Fury until the others began to wander in to grab some food before leaving for headquarters.
Bruce sat down next to him with two plates. “Here, Clint made a lot of eggs,” he said, offering one of the plates to Steve.
“Thanks,” Steve said, and he took the plate and did try and eat. He knew it was going to be a long day.
Tony wandered in and tapped Steve on the back of his head. “Didja work all night, Cap?”
Steve shook his head, “No, just a bit.” He finished his food, cleared up the files, and waited for the others to finish their breakfast.
Bruce sat down next to him again as they waited. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Steve looked across the room to the giant glass window, glowing faintly from the city lights below. The tightness that had settled in his chest several hours ago didn’t budge. “I’m okay,” he said, glancing back and giving Bruce a crisp nod before he stood up and went to the closet to get his jacket, leaving Bruce staring after him.
An hour later the team was assembled at the train station, and Steve busied himself with making sure everyone had their gear, knew their task, and kept the backup plan in mind. He didn’t stop checking on things until it was time to board.
The train had ten cars, but there were only eight scientists. Each Avenger was assigned a scientist or two to watch out for and an area to sweep every few minutes. Steve had assigned himself to floating status, checking in on everyone doing a sweep on top of the train, even.
That might have been a mistake.
After making his initial check of the team and their charges, he climbed up a hatch to the top of the train. It hadn’t left the station yet, and he wanted to make sure no unwanted visitors were trying to hitch a ride. He lifted the hatch and was eye-to-eye with the shiny black top of the train. His breath hitched when he pulled himself up and stood on top of the train, staring down the long, shiny surface, and he dropped into a crouch before he even realized it.
He didn’t need to crouch; the train wasn’t moving and his visual scan didn’t reveal anything, so he stood and walked slowly down the length of the train, hearing a phantom zip line, feeling phantom wind, smelling phantom snow.
He stopped. There was nothing there, and he knew it. He double checked the breaks between cars, the sides of the train, anywhere anyone could get any footing. Then he climbed back down the hatch, pulling the lid closed and then falling into a crouch and leaning back against the nearest wall and taking deep breaths once he was inside.
He didn’t get up fast enough when Tony walked into the car.
“You okay?” Tony asked, sliding the face plate on his suit up.
“Yeah.” Steve took a deep breath. “Just getting my bearings.”
Tony leaned against the wall, facing Steve. “We get the all clear yet, Cap?” he asked.
“Not yet. I think we’re ready, though.”
“Are you ready?”
Steve closed his eyes. No getting past Tony. But he could try.
“I’m ready. Come on,” he said, and he tried to stalk past Tony, setting his jaw and clenching his fists. “We have work to do.”
Tony caught his arm in his iron glove and demanded, “It’s the train, isn’t it?”
He would know, Steve thought. “Leave it alone, Iron Man, really. I’m fine,” he retorted, glaring into Tony’s eyes. “I have a job to do” He shook his arm from Tony’s grasp and pulled free. “We have to leave.”
He headed toward the door and tapped his comm, “Agent Fury, alpha one reporting clear for departure.” He listened as the others reported their all clears, including Iron Man, who pushed past Steve to return to his own post.
The train pulled away from the station with hardly a sound.
“Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?”
Steve shuddered and hoped that there would be no death today.
The ride to the test site was uneventful. Tony was bored, and the boredom combined with his anger at the Captain to make him incredibly cranky.
“Absolutely nothing to report, Captain,” he said in his best bored voice when he had to do his fifth fifteen minute check-in. “The train is still moving and the scientists still won’t talk to me. I think they think I’m an arrogant prick. Not sure where they got that idea, but they won’t say two words and I’m feeling a little put-off. I’m thinking of finding a firecracker and lighting it near one of them. I’ll stand my ground, though, and protect them when…”
“Stark, shut up,” Cap said.
Tony knew that Cap was smoldering, probably one bar of the Star Spangled Man away from breaking Tony’s neck if he could get to him. So he shut up.
He really was bored, though.
The train finally pulled to a halt and Tony escorted the scientists he was babysitting off to where Bruce was waiting for everyone to arrive. He led them off the train platform, down some steps and then along a dirt path to a small building, just one room and no electricity. They didn’t go in, but rather wound around to the back of the building and into a field, where the weapon experiment was set up. Thor set down the crate he was carrying that contained the final parts of the experiment and the scientists busied themselves setting up.
“Tony, go ahead and start your aerial scans. Everyone else to their assigned post,” Cap said firmly.
Black Widow stuck with the scientists on the ground, Thor began his route around the field to check for intruders, Hawkeye went back and climbed to the top of the small building to get a better angle for his bow, and Cap continued with his floater status, ready to go where he was needed.
Tony watched him from the air as he walked from post to post. The tension in his back was visible, and it went way beyond alertness for the mission. The man was taut as Hawkeye’s bowstring and kept clenching his fists as he walked. Tony shifted his gaze to the scientists.
He made fun of them, but he had been watching them very, very carefully throughout the trip. There were two he was unsure of, didn’t trust, didn’t like. He kept a close eye on them the whole time.
The experiment was a success.
Tony found Cap standing next to the building as the scientists packed up their equipment after the testing was over. His arms were folded tight against his chest and the scowl on his face would have intimidated anyone. Tony landed next to him and Cap looked over at him with an eyebrow raised.
“What did you think, Cap?” Tony asked, sliding his faceplate up.
Cap shook his head. “It looks like a HYDRA weapon to me. They’re nasty.”
Tony nodded, “Yeah, we’ve been trying to reverse engineer HYRDA stuff for years. It’s tough. If it weren’t for Bruce figuring out the chemical component and mixture rate I’d still be poking at it with a stick in my lab.”
He saw a small grin escape Cap’s face at that. Good.
“We need to get these guys back to the train,” Steve said with a sigh, uncrossing his arms.
“Yep,” Tony said, “I’m ready to be back in the city with a tall drink, personally.”
Cap didn’t say anything and just walked away, signaling the rest of the team to return to their train posts. Tony sighed.
He knew he really didn’t trust those two scientists when he spotted a bomb on his end of the train about an hour into the trip. He signaled the team, told them to get the scientists corralled and set himself to defusing the bomb.
He heard Cap giving Black Widow and Thor orders to guard the scientists until they knew who did it, telling Hawkeye to go scour the train for another bomb, and sending a signal to Bruce telling him there was trouble.
“Stark, how bad is it?” Cap’s voice asked through the comms.
“Bad, Cap,” he replied. “It’ll take half the train if it blows.”
“Yeah, what about the other half?” Cap asked.
“Two halves make a whole, Cap. If they want to take the whole thing out there’ll be another bomb. This one’s on a short timer, though, so you and Hawkeye need to find the other one quick.”
“I don’t think we should stop the train, though,” Cap said.
“No, I don’t want to fall into a trap if getting us to stop the train is the goal,” Tony replied. “See if there’s another one and then we’ll stop it. Now shut up and let me work. We have ten minutes.”
Tony had finished defusing it in eight and a half minutes, and just as he stood up, he heard a shout through the comms from Hawkeye.
“Found it!” And after a pause, “Shit!”
“Hawkeye!” Cap shouted, and Tony heard an explosion and the train teetered dangerously on the track.
Hawkeye had found the other bomb. Steve had just come through the train car door after him when the explosion happened, and he thought to himself, ‘Not again.’ Steve was close enough to the explosion that the blast slammed him into the wall, and the world went silent. Then pain exploded in his shoulder that had met the wall first, and sound floated in - Bucky’s scream as he failed to catch his footing after the blast and he dropped out the hole in the side of the train.
“Bucky!” Steve yelled, ignoring the silence and the pain in his shoulder as he saw his friend fall through the hole, and he scrambled across the floor and held on tightly to a cord he found as he leaned out the hole. Bucky’s face was contorted in pain, but he held fast to a bar on the side of the train. “Bucky!” Steve called again, reaching a hand out to his best friend. He would save him. He was a super soldier and could save his own best friend. A reach of his hand, an iron grip, and a yank, he could do that. Easy.
Bucky grabbed his hand, but barely, and Steve gave him a quick yank upwards, and let go and grabbed him again, this time getting a better grip. “I’ve got you. Hang on,” he said through clenched teeth, and he pulled, feeling his shoulder, the arm that was holding the chord anchoring him to the train, pop out of socket with searing heat. He hung on, though. He saw the snow rushing past under the train and he smelled the explosion and frigid air mixed together and felt Bucky’s hand secure in his and he hung on. This was what Captain America did, rescued soldiers. This was his job, and he was damned good at it.
Steve pulled Bucky back into the train car and pulled him into an embrace. “You little shit, I could have lost you,” he said as he buried his chin in his best friend’s shoulder. He let go and joked, “Be more careful next time, Bucky.” He looked into Bucky’s face and saw confusion, suspicion, fear.
Steve let go, and the pain in his shoulder overcame the moment and he sucked in a deep breath, cradled his arm, and leaned back against the wall of the train, saying, “Damn, this one hurts.”
Bucky just stood there, staring at him, eyes narrowed, and suddenly Steve saw it. The black leather weapons vest instead of the uniform, the short, cropped hair, the smaller stature, compact and fierce, and he knew something was wrong. And then he realized what was wrong, and he remembered that Bucky was dead.
He sank down the wall to the floor, cradled his left arm in his right, and clenched his eyes shut. That was easy. That was so easy. This rescue worked. Hawkeye was alive. Bucky was dead.
His throat started to constrict and he had to gasp for air and he didn’t know what was wrong except for everything and he didn’t know how to get his breath back and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to, but then hands were on his shoulders, pushing him down to the floor and a voice, Hawkeye’s low gravelly voice, was telling him to breathe, “Come on, Cap, breathe with me, listen!” And he did listen and he did breathe and the cold air filled his lungs.
He caught his breath again and coughed, and managed to choke out, “My shoulder. Put it back in.” And Hawkeye, not Bucky, leaned over him and pulled him to his feet, grabbing his elbow and saying ‘ready?’ and then yanked. Steve’s shoulder exploded again and the silence came back.
He could see Hawkeye talking to him, but then he closed his eyes and Bucky was back and then he opened his eyes again and Bucky was gone, and the icy air swirled through the car. Tony appeared from the door of the car, and Steve just closed his eyes and tried to keep his breath even, dragging air filled with daggers into his lungs and then he opened his eyes and looked at the gaping hole in the side of the train where Bucky had been for one moment and where he had fallen, fallen to his death without rescue. And the dagger-filled air and the wall of the train and his flame-filled shoulder were all he could feel as he sank down to the floor.
Tony sprinted through the train after he heard the explosion and tried to raise Cap and Hawkeye on the comms with no luck. He made it to the area where Black Widow and Thor were guarding the scientists.
“You two stay with the scientists - don’t let ‘em move an inch! Black Widow, call Fury and tell him what happened.” he shouted as he opened the door to get to other two teammates. He had to run through four other cars and the train had, thankfully stopped teetering. Obviously the bad guys were counting on two explosions.
When he found the car with Cap and Hawkeye he stopped in his tracks. Hawkeye was standing over Cap, holding his arm gingerly. His face was covered in sweat and blood from a head wound above his eyebrow. “Hawkeye? Are you okay?”
Hawkeye turned and met his gaze with a dazed look on his face and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Head’s a little fuzzy and I think I messed up my wrist, but I’m okay.” He took a deep breath, “Stark,” he said and turned back to the Captain.
Cap was sitting on the floor, knees up to his chest, one arm wrapped around his knees and the other dropped to the side, limply. He looked uninjured, but his eyes were clenched shut and his breathing. . . his breathing worried Tony. It was coming in gasps, shuddering and short, as if he were freezing.
Tony sank down next to him and pulled off his Iron Man helmet. He looked up at Hawkeye and asked, “What happened?”
Hawkeye shook his head and sat down next to Tony. “The explosion ripped a hole in the train, and I fell and ended up on the outside. Cap came and got me, pulled me back in, but. . . . . he kept calling me ‘Bucky.’”
Tony nodded at Hawkeye, remembering his father telling him the stories of the Howling Commandos and how the loss of Bucky Barnes had dimmed the light in Captain America’s eyes. “His best friend when he was a kid,” he explained to Hawkeye, and then he looked back at Cap. “Captain,” he said gently, “hey, Cap, you’re okay. Can you look at me?” Tony watched as Cap drew a shuddering breath and opened his eyes to look at Tony. “Hey,” Tony said, “Are you hurt?”
Keep it simple for now. Even though Tony knew it was some sort of PTSD reaction, that didn’t mean he knew how to deal with it. He’d seen Captain America break a couple of times over the last few months, but the super soldier also seemed to pull himself back together each time; Tony was relieved when it looked like this would be no different.
Cap nodded and took another deep breath, and Tony saw his eyes refocus again. “Wrenched my shoulder, but that’s it,” Cap explained, and he looked over at Hawkeye and added, “You okay, Hawkeye? Sorry I . . .” he just looked away and finished, “Sorry.”
Hawkeye nodded and replied, “It’s okay, Cap. Thanks for grabbing me. I owe you one.”
Tony watched as Cap just nodded and visibly tried to compose himself. With one more deep breath he pushed himself up off the floor and Tony and Hawkeye followed. When Hawkeye swayed a bit on his feet, Tony steadied him and Cap turned away from them and headed out of the car, saying, “We should check on the others.”
Tony and Hawkeye followed the Captain back to the car where Thor and Black Widow were holding the scientists, all of whom were doing a good job of looking suitably shaken up by the turn of events. Tony was certain they wouldn’t all survive the SHIELD interrogation that was coming, though. The train was working properly, and the team had about a half hour ride back to the main station. Tony watched as Cap spent the time on the comms with Fury, did some serious pacing, and hovered around Hawkeye for the duration of the trip.
That and clenched and unclenched his right fist the whole time.
The scientists were shuttled away by SHIELD security as soon as they arrived back, and Hawkeye was shuffled off to medical. They tried to get Cap to go, too, but he refused, heading straight for the showers and then meeting the rest of them in the debriefing room.
“Took you long enough to get cleaned up, Captain,” Fury said as Cap sat down. Tony watched as Cap slumped into a chair, hardly even noticing Fury’s displeasure.
“Sorry, Sir,” he said without even looking up.
Fury listened to each explanation of the events of the afternoon and explained that SHIELD was interrogating the scientists. “Go home and get some rest, but be ready to come back in when the interrogation is over. We may need you guys to help with whoever’s behind this.”
They headed back to Stark Tower, and Bruce and Tony discussed the events on the train. Bruce was obviously hoping for some clue as to who had done all of this. Tony watched as Cap leaned his head against the glass of the car window and stared blankly outside the whole way home.
When they arrived, Natasha took Clint up to his room where she could keep an eye on him and his mild concussion, and Thor headed for the kitchen. Bruce hung back in the hallway as Tony talked to Cap.
“You need some painkillers for that shoulder, Cap?” Tony asked.
“No, thanks, I’m just going to sleep it off,” Cap said, and he turned without another word and headed off toward his room. His fist was still clenching and unclenching.
Tony shook his head at Bruce and they headed off to join Thor in the kitchen. Tony would check on Cap again in the morning and that was all he could do.
Steve walked dully to his suite and went inside. He stood in the sitting area and looked around, not sure of what to do with himself. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Bucky falling and screaming. Every time he closed his eyes.
So he wouldn’t close his eyes. He went to his bedroom and found his leather bike jacket and gloves and then made his way down to the garage to his motorcycle. He climbed on and pulled out of Stark Tower, heading out of town and concentrating only on the road and the bike, gratefully letting the wind carry Bucky’s screams away from him.
Tony wasn’t surprised that Steve wasn’t at breakfast the next morning, although he’d hoped a good night’s sleep might have shaken the shock off from the train incident. A few hours later, though, when Natasha came into the penthouse to get some of Tony’s magic post-workout smoothie, he was surprised to hear she’d been working out alone.
“Cap wasn’t down there?” he asked.
“No. I haven’t seen him since yesterday,” she said. “He seemed rattled after the train explosion. Do you think he’s hurt?”
“Not on the outside. I think it stirred up some shit for him that should have been left alone, though.”
“Clint told me he called him by a different name when he was saving him,” Natasha said.
“Yeah,” Tony said, “His best friend from the old days. My dad used to talk about how much his death affected Cap. This just struck to close, I bet. He’ll be okay.” Tony said that to assure himself as much as her. She nodded and took her smoothie out to the patio.
When the team gathered for a briefing meeting at SHIELD later in the day and Cap was a no-show, they all started to worry. Fury was pissed, but Tony gave him a brief explanation of what had happened and promised to find him.
An hour later, in his workshop, he found the record he was looking for. He headed for the garage to grab a car.
“Can I come?” Clint asked. He was standing in the middle of the garage wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
“Why?” Tony asked, pulling keys out of his pocket and trying not to act surprised.
“It’s my fault he’s upset. I thought if you needed a hand I could help.”
“It’s not your fault, Clint. It’s that damned bomb’s fault. Stay here,” Tony said. He walked over to a small, red Fiat.
Clint followed and put his hands on the hood. “Please, Tony. I’ll stay out of the way. I just want to be able to help if you need it.” He paused. “I’ve never seen him like that.”
Tony paused and then nodded and Clint climbed in the car with him.
“Can you track him?” Clint asked as Tony pulled out of the Tower garage.
“No, but Jarvis gave me some information and I think I might know where he is.”
They drove in silence for a while, winding their way through the steady rain that had just begun and into Brooklyn. When Tony pulled into a parking space Clint looked around and said, “A cemetery?” Tony just nodded and pointed at the motorcycle parked nearby.
“Stay here for now, okay?” Tony said. Clint just nodded and Tony climbed out of the car.
He pulled the map of the cemetery out of his pocket and threw up the umbrella he had and started walking. After a few minutes he turned down an old dirt path and stopped.
The headstone of James “Bucky” Barnes was small, just a grey marble rectangle with a few words engraved in it, but somehow Cap had managed to curl himself up next to it and look smaller than he was. He was in jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket, and he had his arms wrapped around himself, his hands squeezing his arms in rhythm. His eyes were clenched shut, and the rain had soaked his hair, leaving rivulets running down his face.
Tony stepped close, holding the umbrella over his friend and squatting down next to him. He didn’t say anything; he just let the umbrella shelter them to let Steve know he was there. Soon Steve opened his eyes and looked up at Tony.
Tony offered his hand to help Steve up, and he took it, letting Tony pull him into a silent embrace. They didn’t speak for a few minutes, and Tony felt Steve trying to get control of his breathing and tears. Soon he settled, and he sat back and looked at Tony.
“You been here all day?” Tony asked. Steve nodded. “You should come home.” He watched as Steve sat back down on the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees, gazing at the headstone and nodding silently.
They sat another few minutes and then Tony said, “Was it the same way?” Steve looked up at him, confused by the question. “On the train, did Hawkeye fall out the same way Bucky did?” Tony explained.
Steve looked back at the headstone and ran his hand through his soaked hair. He nodded. “Except I caught him. I couldn’t catch Bucky. I tried, but I couldn’t. I was close, but not close enough.” He laid his head down on his knees and Tony reached out to his shoulder.
“Clint’s glad you were close enough yesterday, you know,” Tony said.
Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, so am I.” His voice was muffled and he sounded exhausted.
“He’s waiting in the car,” Tony said.
Steve looked up. “He is?”
“Yeah, he was worried something had happened to you. Wanted to be along to help me if I needed it.”
Tony saw a small smile play across Steve’s face.
“He’s a good kid,” Steve said.
Tony laughed. “He’s older than you, you know.”
“No, no one’s older than me.”
Tony stood up. “Come on. Now you’re arguing semantics. That’s a sure sign you’re in bad shape. Let’s go get cleaned up.”
Steve stood, but he kept staring at the headstone. “He was just a kid.”
“You all were.”
They walked back to the car and Steve looked over at his motorcycle. Tony said, “We can come back for it later if you want to ride with us.”
Steve looked torn, but then he leaned over and opened Clint’s door. “You wanna ride with me?”
Clint stepped out of the car and said, “Sure, Cap, if it’s okay.”
Steve nodded and the two of them walked over to the motorcycle and climbed on. Tony watched as Steve pulled out of the parking lot and Clint wrapped his good arm around the Captain’s waist and they headed back toward the Tower together.