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There are bad days, then there is this.
There are days he wished he stayed in bed, then there is this.
There are days you wish you never had been born, never have existed, then there is this.
He’s had plenty on terrible days, but none of them are this. He’d take Afghanistan all over again instead of this. But that’s not how life works.
“I don’t believe this,” Tony says, folding his arms over his chest. “No. No. I don’t believe this.”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe, Mr. Stark,” the AIM scientist says, smirking up at him. “What matters is that what I’m telling you is true.”
“I’m talking science, Dr Dillard, you are talking werewolves and fairy-tale magic,” Tony says.
“No, Stark, I’m talking revolutionary science, you are talking in denialism,” The scientist says, her lips curling into a sharp grin.
“If it’s science, turn him back then.”
“I can’t.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient,” Tony growls. “So we are just meant to believe that creature in there is Steve Rogers? Right,” he scoffs at the thought.
The creature, as if it knew it was being talked about, snarls, its dark blond fur raising up on its back. Its eyes shine unnaturally in the darkness of its cage. Looking into those sickly yellow eyes made something deep within Tony crawl.
“Science isn’t convenient, Mr Stark, you know this,” Dr Dillard says, her voice almost a purr, “Some reactions are impossible to reverse.” She gives him a mocking smile. Almost pitying “The formula has already bonded with Captain Rogers’ DNA to the serum.”
“Great, that's just great, isn’t it,” he scoffs.
“Anyway, it wouldn’t matter either way if I could reverse the effects of the formula.”
“Why not?” he snarls, his patience wearing thin.
“Because AIM needed compliance and Captain Rogers was not going to give us that,” Dr Dillard laughs sharply, “So we wiped him, deleted his brain to give us a clean slate to build off.”
The world turns sharply on its axis. “What?”
“We passed an electric charge through his hippocampus and frontal lobe. There is nothing left of the man’s memories or personality.”
Tony world shifts on its axis. It feels like he's falling.
He swallows thickly. “Okay. I’ve had enough,” he snaps. He gestures to one of the SHIELD agents. “You lot can deal with her.”
Natasha walks over to him and lays a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have many options, Tony,” she says.
Tony shrugs her hand off. “Well, we’re the Avengers. We’ll make options.”
“I don’t think we can this time,” she says.
“Nat has a point, Stark. Our hands are tied,” Clint says.
“What are you suggesting?” he asks.
Natasha and Clint share a look. “We have to kill him,” Natasha says.
“What!” he says “No. Sorry, say that again. You didn’t just suggest we kill Cap.”
“Tony…” She says, drawing out his name.
His fists clench by his sides. “No. We’re not going to do that. There has to be another way. We will find another way,” he says, his voice rising.
“There is no other choice,” Clint says, looking away.
“Fuck that. There is always another way. We are not going to kill Steve," he says. Panic begins to rise in his chest. ‘This can’t be happening. We’re not going to kill Steve.’
“And if we don’t, then what, Stark? You heard the scientist, there is nothing left of Steve in there. What will we be saving?” the man says.
“We’ll be saving Steve. That should be going enough,” Tony growls.
Natasha sighs, folding her arms over her chest. “He’s a danger, Tony. We can’t take that risk,” She says.
“We can make safeguards. I’m sure SHIELD has a spear Hulk room we could keep him in. We’ll find a way to fix this.” It was like they weren’t even trying to look for other options. They were meant to be a team. Hell, he thought they were a family. Guess he was wrong.
“Steve doesn’t remember us, Tony,” Natasha says slowly, as if he doesn’t get that.
The last of Tony’s patience snaps. “So what? So FUCKING WHAT?” Tony screams “AFTER ALL WE’VE BEEN THROUGH AS A TEAM, AFTER ALL HE’S DONE FOR US… WHAT? WE ARE JUST GOING TO KILL HIM? WE OWE IT TO SAVE HIM! STEVE IS PROBABLY THE ONLY DAMN REASON WE SUCK TO TOGETHER AS A TEAM! ARE YOU- Are you saying we just forget all that?”
“No, Tony,” Natasha says softly, “But we have no other option.”
“There is always another option,” he argues.
“Not this time.”
“There has to be,” Tony whispers.
She looks away with a sigh, her face closing off. “If you can’t do this, leave. Now. Go back to the tower. No one will judge you. But if you can’t do this leave, or you will get us all killed.”
Tony stares at the crack right in front of his feet, willing the world to stop spinning so damn fast. He swallows down the lump in his throat. “I can do this,” he says
“Can you?” Natasha asks. “Because you better be damn sure.”
“Yeah, Stark men are made of Iron,” he responds.
“Good," she says, "Now let’s get to work.”
“Can’t be hard. He’s already cornered. We can make it quick and painless,” Clint says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “How do we get in there?”
Not easily, as it turned out. None of the AIM agents were willing to help them.
After investigating the control panel, they realized that this was, in fact, going to be extremely dangerous. AIM had opted to seal the creature, ...Steve, in his enclosure as securely as possible. They had been feeding him through the ceiling, any drug was released into the room as a gas, keeping as little contact as possible between themselves and Steve.
There was not an easy way to do this, and for good reason. No organization worth their weight was going to try and contain a werewolf in an enclosure that could be opened by some unhappy accident.
The Avengers and SHIELD had secured the area as best they could and had gotten in position, setting up heavy artillery around the perimeter.
They hit the door release and waited with bated breath.
Out of the dark enclosure, Steve leapt out. The place erupted into chaos. SHIELD agents were dropping like flies. Guns were firing, grenades were going off, and people were screaming orders at one another.
And the monster, Steve, escaped through a weakness in their perimeter defenses, bounding down the dark hallways of the base.
“We can’t let him leave this base,” one of the commanders said.
Tony sighed, looking down the hallway Steve disappeared down.
“Anyone got eyes on the monster?” one of the agents calls over the comms.
‘Right. The monster,’ he reminds himself, ‘not Cap.’
Tony turns the corner and makes his way down a long dark corridor.
Something shifts at the far end of the corridor. A quiet click, like nails drumming on glass, and the sounds of small pebbles being kicked aside, echoes loudly across the distance.
Tony raises his gauntlet. Ready to shoot if necessary.
“I got something,” he says. “Maybe? Could just be a rat.” It could be a rat, he hopes it was the rat. He doesn’t want to be the one to face down and kill that beast.
But as he listens to the sounds echoing down the corridor, somehow he knows he’s probably not going to be that lucky. It figures with how terrible this day has been so far. Why not top it off with a little murder.
His heart sinks as the monster appears out of the shadows, growling.
Under the flickering, dim lighting of the corridor, he gets a better look at the beast. It was huge, the thing could probably fit two of Tony’s heads in his mouth at once. He was pretty sure the thing’s largest teeth were the size of his head. The beast’s paws looked big enough to cover his entire chest, with claws the length of his hand.
Its fur was dirty, scotched and bloodstained. Chunks of fur and flesh hung off its large, lithe frame. The monster’s yellow, bloodshot eyes gaze into his own and he knew he was being sized up.
Without much more warning the beast launches itself at Tony with a snarl, crashing into him. The weight of the monster pins him down to the ground.
Tony desperately tries to wrestle the monster off of him, taking whatever shot he could with his repulsors. He can feel the armor give way under some of the beast’s bites. He was in trouble.
He fires a small flare into the room. The visuals in the armor white-out for a moment before beginning to adjust to the change in light levels. The monster lets out a pained howl, covering its eyes with its large paws.
Taking the chance Tony launches himself onto the beast’s back, wrapping an arm tightly around the thing’s neck, locking it into a choke-hold. The thing bucks and jolts, trying desperately to throw him off.
He aims his gauntlet at the beast’s face and shoots. The monster flails wildly in his arms, howling in pain. Multiple warnings flash on the armor’s HUD. The monster bucks, threatening to breaks free, but its strength was failing.
Tony fires up his boots and releases his hold of the beast, blasting himself away from the thing’s reach. He crashes into the wall, rubble and dirt fall around him.
He lays there for a moment, catching his breath. Eyes locked on the stats on the HUD, watching for any sign of the beast.
Ten minutes pass in silence with no sign of the monster. He carefully picks himself up out of the rubble and stands up.
The monster lays motionless on the floor a few feet from where he landed. Blood pools around it on the floor. Tony’s boots echo loudly as he cautiously walks over to it, watching the HUD for any warnings.
He needed to make sure it was dead or dying.
Tony comes to a stop in front of the thing. He gives the beast a nudge with his boot and gets barely a response in return.
The creature was dying then. Good.
He drops to the ground next to the monster, facing it, guarding its movements. The beat’s vitals drop lower and lower on his interface. “It’s down, good as dead,” he says over the comms. Tony breaths out a long sigh and opens his helmet, running a hand down his face.
The monster shifts beside him, moving its large head.
“Shit!” Tony mutters, pressing himself back against the wall. The creature opens its dark eyes, peering at him from its sprawled position on the floor. He raises his gauntlet at it.
The beast lets out a pained whine as it drags itself to its feet.
He should run, or shoot the damn thing again. But he was just so damn tired, all his limbs so heavy. Anyway, with the way the monster was staggering, wobbling back and forth as it approaches him, the way its jaw hangs low and loose, he doubts the creature would really pose much of a threat anymore. The thing was near dead, if it bit him the armor would more than protect him.
The monster crawls all the way over to him. It drops its hind legs with a growl, blood spilling from its broken jaw.
Tony pushes his gauntlet towards the thing’s face, hoping to deter it, to demonstrate that he was a threat.
The monster presses his nose against the palm of his gauntlet, sniffing it loudly. The creature growls, baring its large teeth, its ears pressed back. The monster’s dull, glassy eyes flick over to his. It leans forward, pressing its nose into Tony’s face. He is regretting opening the helmet, if he closed it now it would probably set the beast off. He has no interest in losing his face.
His thoughts stop at the soft whine the beast makes. The thing has stopped growling, more intent on vigorously sniffing his face, smearing blood everywhere. Tony tries to pull back, but the creature is insistent.
The creature freezes. It gives his face a small lick, before laying its head down in Tony’s lap, its head lolling weakly to the side, looking up at him with barely open glassy eyes.
Tony’s stomach drops straight through the floor. “Steve?” he says. Reaching out his hand.
Weakly the creature licks at his fingers, looking almost as if it was smiling up at him. “Oh-… Oh, God,” he chokes.
Steve’s eyes gaze into his own as they slip shut.
What have they done?