Avengers: Everybody Got Naked and We Got Cap Back Day, by wired_lizard, pg-13
Title: Everybody Got Naked and We Got Cap Back Day
Author: wired_lizard
Fandom: Avengers
Characters/Pairings: Steve/Tony
Length: 4,912
Warnings:
Spoilers: general for Civil War
Why this must be read/seen: This is a Civil War fix-it of another color: in this version, Steve Rogers isn't dead--he's imprisoned on a Skrull ship. This isn't giving away the ending--the story is mainly focused on getting off the ship--but it's one of the most original ways I've seen to circumvent Civil War canon. The story is an action-packed and fun read that is incredibly deep, considering its length. I read this story quite a long time ago, and it still sticks with me.
It's night watch on a Skrull ship, and Tony Stark and Reed Richards, neither religious, are both praying like hell that their stealth devices work.
"That's the third guard," Tony whispers. "Guess it works." He's got the Extremis broadcasting on an encrypted channel to the tiny stealth speakerbud in Reed's ear, not a decibel of audible sound; still, he's whispering in his mind. They ease five feet from an absentminded-looking Skrull, into a blessedly open stretch of corridor.
Reed's not going to speak unless it's an emergency, because his brain's not wired straight to every communications network around, so he just nods and eases his head round a corner while leaving the rest of him behind.
Two fingers pointing forward--the all-clear. And a thumb--something interesting. Tony pads carefully up behind him--he's got the stealth boots on, or the fuzzy slippers, as Peter used to call them. Not that they're fuzzy, never mind pink, though Peter had said they should be, just slick layers of modified Teflon. Still.
He misses Peter.
Ten percent of his brain is missing Peter; five percent monitors the ambient sound; the rest is jacked into Extremis, taking down every detail of every wall, every monitor. Well, most of the rest. At least five percent is permanently occupied beating himself up. Bit of a broken record, really. Waste of gray matter, but it's not like he can turn it off, just keep it to a dull roar.
The something interesting is some sort of lab. Prison lab, he gathers--then again, these are Skrulls, what would he expect? Devices of all sorts; he starts a catalogue running, data streaming down one corner of his consciousness.
The ten percent is missing a lot of people besides Peter. The Illuminati, for one, as much of a bickering wreck of a cabal they were--last time he'd been on a Skrull ship he'd had all five with him, and he'd give a lot to have Dr. Strange at his back right now. Or even Namor, the pointy-eared pretentious bastard. But they had very, very good reasons for not talking to him. Or Black Bolt, who'd always had a good reason not to talk to him, but now--well, he'd be why they were here, wouldn't he?
The term prison lab applies, another portion of his mind notices, not just because it's Skrulls and that's pretty much their default, but because there's a tall, pale body on a worktable, sealed under glass. Snow White, bleeps one corner of his associative matrix. Identity confirmed, bleeps another. Identity confirmed. Identity confirmed.
"Oh my god," Reed breathes. It's startlingly loud in the silence.
It's Steve.
Everybody Got Naked and We Got Cap Back Day
Author: wired_lizard
Fandom: Avengers
Characters/Pairings: Steve/Tony
Length: 4,912
Warnings:
Spoilers: general for Civil War
Why this must be read/seen: This is a Civil War fix-it of another color: in this version, Steve Rogers isn't dead--he's imprisoned on a Skrull ship. This isn't giving away the ending--the story is mainly focused on getting off the ship--but it's one of the most original ways I've seen to circumvent Civil War canon. The story is an action-packed and fun read that is incredibly deep, considering its length. I read this story quite a long time ago, and it still sticks with me.
It's night watch on a Skrull ship, and Tony Stark and Reed Richards, neither religious, are both praying like hell that their stealth devices work.
"That's the third guard," Tony whispers. "Guess it works." He's got the Extremis broadcasting on an encrypted channel to the tiny stealth speakerbud in Reed's ear, not a decibel of audible sound; still, he's whispering in his mind. They ease five feet from an absentminded-looking Skrull, into a blessedly open stretch of corridor.
Reed's not going to speak unless it's an emergency, because his brain's not wired straight to every communications network around, so he just nods and eases his head round a corner while leaving the rest of him behind.
Two fingers pointing forward--the all-clear. And a thumb--something interesting. Tony pads carefully up behind him--he's got the stealth boots on, or the fuzzy slippers, as Peter used to call them. Not that they're fuzzy, never mind pink, though Peter had said they should be, just slick layers of modified Teflon. Still.
He misses Peter.
Ten percent of his brain is missing Peter; five percent monitors the ambient sound; the rest is jacked into Extremis, taking down every detail of every wall, every monitor. Well, most of the rest. At least five percent is permanently occupied beating himself up. Bit of a broken record, really. Waste of gray matter, but it's not like he can turn it off, just keep it to a dull roar.
The something interesting is some sort of lab. Prison lab, he gathers--then again, these are Skrulls, what would he expect? Devices of all sorts; he starts a catalogue running, data streaming down one corner of his consciousness.
The ten percent is missing a lot of people besides Peter. The Illuminati, for one, as much of a bickering wreck of a cabal they were--last time he'd been on a Skrull ship he'd had all five with him, and he'd give a lot to have Dr. Strange at his back right now. Or even Namor, the pointy-eared pretentious bastard. But they had very, very good reasons for not talking to him. Or Black Bolt, who'd always had a good reason not to talk to him, but now--well, he'd be why they were here, wouldn't he?
The term prison lab applies, another portion of his mind notices, not just because it's Skrulls and that's pretty much their default, but because there's a tall, pale body on a worktable, sealed under glass. Snow White, bleeps one corner of his associative matrix. Identity confirmed, bleeps another. Identity confirmed. Identity confirmed.
"Oh my god," Reed breathes. It's startlingly loud in the silence.
It's Steve.
Everybody Got Naked and We Got Cap Back Day