Even trying to keep an eye on Marie, Steve's focus has to be on the battle. And it's a hell of one. The team needs him, his focus, and he has to shut her out of all but his periphery while he fights, coordinates, engages.
Black Widow makes it to the roof, communicates she can shut the portal these things keep endlessly pouring out of. Iron Man says no, and Steve lets him call the play - they've somehow seamlessly fallen into roles of leader and second-in-command - flying the nuclear device through the portal.
It hurts. It hurts more than he expected, would have imagined, to watch Iron-- to watch Tony, disappear through the portal. One-way trip. It hits close to home; it's like watching Bucky fall, only in reverse, and it makes him regret all the sniping and arguing. For all their fundamental differences, for all Tony's brashness and loud proclamations of not being a team player, they'd slid into fighting side by side as if they'd been doing it for years. He's not going to get a chance now to see how that dynamic might carry over to downtime, when they're not in the middle of government conspiracies and alien invasions.
He never gets a chance at anything. A glimpse, a taste, before it's snatched away. His whole damn life, he can't even find the energy now to be mad. Later. Later he'll rail about it, wail on a heavy bag until it's spilling sand, raining down like an hourglass until all that's left his him. Again. Bucky. Marie. His life. He keeps losing everything.
But then there's a shout, drawing his attention up, and suddenly it feels like his heart's about to pound up through his throat, because that's IRON MAN--
not slowing down, and Steve can see through the quick tumble of the armor that it's not lit up, it's dead, and he finds he's still got a drop of hope left in him, because he's hoping inside the suit, the same can't be said for its pilot.
It's the Hulk who saves the day, and Iron Man, in more ways than one, and it's Tony's half-conscious quip about 'nobody kissed me, right?' that has the knot in Steve's chest easing, making him huff an exhausted laugh and glance away, looking out over the carnage, but the battle itself is over.
And there, somehow, his eyes immediately lock on to a figure in a dusty black pants suit, alien weapon abandoned now that it's no longer needed. Party's not over, he thinks; still have to secure Loki, get him the hell off this planet, this dimension, back to wherever-it-is that he and Thor are from. But for now...
"Get up to the Tower to secure Loki. I'll catch up." And then he's off, moving through the wreckage and debris toward Marie-or-whoever-the-hell-she-is, face set with determination.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2018-02-26 01:52 am (UTC)Black Widow makes it to the roof, communicates she can shut the portal these things keep endlessly pouring out of. Iron Man says no, and Steve lets him call the play - they've somehow seamlessly fallen into roles of leader and second-in-command - flying the nuclear device through the portal.
It hurts. It hurts more than he expected, would have imagined, to watch Iron-- to watch Tony, disappear through the portal. One-way trip. It hits close to home; it's like watching Bucky fall, only in reverse, and it makes him regret all the sniping and arguing. For all their fundamental differences, for all Tony's brashness and loud proclamations of not being a team player, they'd slid into fighting side by side as if they'd been doing it for years. He's not going to get a chance now to see how that dynamic might carry over to downtime, when they're not in the middle of government conspiracies and alien invasions.
He never gets a chance at anything. A glimpse, a taste, before it's snatched away. His whole damn life, he can't even find the energy now to be mad. Later. Later he'll rail about it, wail on a heavy bag until it's spilling sand, raining down like an hourglass until all that's left his him. Again. Bucky. Marie. His life. He keeps losing everything.
But then there's a shout, drawing his attention up, and suddenly it feels like his heart's about to pound up through his throat, because that's IRON MAN--
not slowing down, and Steve can see through the quick tumble of the armor that it's not lit up, it's dead, and he finds he's still got a drop of hope left in him, because he's hoping inside the suit, the same can't be said for its pilot.
It's the Hulk who saves the day, and Iron Man, in more ways than one, and it's Tony's half-conscious quip about 'nobody kissed me, right?' that has the knot in Steve's chest easing, making him huff an exhausted laugh and glance away, looking out over the carnage, but the battle itself is over.
And there, somehow, his eyes immediately lock on to a figure in a dusty black pants suit, alien weapon abandoned now that it's no longer needed. Party's not over, he thinks; still have to secure Loki, get him the hell off this planet, this dimension, back to wherever-it-is that he and Thor are from. But for now...
"Get up to the Tower to secure Loki. I'll catch up." And then he's off, moving through the wreckage and debris toward Marie-or-whoever-the-hell-she-is, face set with determination.
He's going to get some answers.