Aftershock

The Can of Worms

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Steve

Blame is a slippery slope, and one that I'm more apt to fall down while sitting through an endless flight. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.

I don't have a visual on Tony, but he's the only thing clouding up my brain— I'm torn between worrying if he's okay, and replaying his words over and over... I don't need to add a bunch of extra anxiety to my plate just for the sake of telling the Avengers that we slept together.

Is that all we are to him?

I don't blame him for not wanting to come out, to tell our friends and colleagues before he's ready. It's not that. I just can't quiet the doubts in my head telling me that from his perspective, we were never going to be anything more than a casual affair. I curse myself for getting so invested.

After a while, Natasha seems to pick up my apprehension. She lays a hand on my shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh..of course."

"You don't have to lie to me, Steve. You're not even on the same planet right now."

I shake my head. "Just distracted, I guess."

"Hmm." She reaches into her bag and pulls out a tablet. "Wanna watch a movie? Get your mind off it?"

"That'd be nice."

She chooses a flick that I've never seen before, and when it's over, I still don't feel like I've watched it. I just stare past the screen and feel grateful that at least I don't have to pretend to remember what we were talking about anymore.

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Maria Hill puts us up in a hotel— split into two suites— and gives us orders to rest, get up to speed with Sam, and be ready to attack tomorrow morning. Sam is eager to debrief us when we get there, gathering us in a private meeting room and rolling out a hand-drawn floorplan onto the table.

"Here's what we know so far," he says. He points to a doorway labeled with a red X. "This is the loading area, where most of their shipments come in. Big palettes covered in tarps, padlocked boxes, the whole shebang. The place is always guarded, and the interior is crawling with operatives. They monitor everything that comes in and out."

"So, that's that, we can't get in," Tony says. "Case closed, solved it for you."

I give him a look, as does Sam. Tony's leaning back in his chair, nearly far enough to tip over, and is nursing a margarita he ordered from room service. Sam clears his throat.

"On foot, no. That's where Scott comes in." He turns to face Lang, who's watching videos on his phone on low volume. "Scott."

Scott jumps, dropping his phone into his plate of nachos. "Ah, yes? Present."

"You're going to shrink down and infiltrate one of those shipments, get inside the loading area, and from there I need you to get to the control room and disable the security system."

He extracts his phone from the cheesy mess and salutes with it, stringing mozzarella across his face. "Yes, sir."

Sam shakes his head and turns to Natasha. "Nat, once Scott gives the all-clear, you're going to sneak into the control room through this window—" he points again, "And download their schematics."

"Got it."

"Scott, when you're done disabling security, I'll need you to plant a bomb in their assembly room." He uses his finger to circle a portion of the map. "That should be around here somewhere. Once we have the schematics, we're blowing this place to kingdom come."
"Wow, that's great. Sounds like you all have this whole...thing...under control," Tony says, setting down his glass and splashing his drink onto the tablecloth. "I guess you won't need the rest of us, huh?"