nightcathedral | Put one foot wrong and I'm gonna fall...

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Put one foot wrong and I'm gonna fall...

It's nearly three in the morning when Olivia slips out of her room and heads down to the lab where Tony Stark had a sensory deprivation tank set up for her. She moves quickly and quietly, and doesn't bother switching on the lights when she enters the lab, leaving the blue glow of the monitors around the room to light her way - she's hoping that the less she does, the less JARVIS will take notice of her, and maybe he won't wake anyone to tell them what she's doing before it's too late. There are letters on her bed to Steve, to Jane, to Tony and Bruce, and between that and her absence, and whatever security cameras she's sure are monitoring this room, that'll have to do to explain where she's gone.

She eases the door quietly shut behind her, and crosses the room to the bright steel table where the syringes full of Cortexiphan Dr. Banner managed to synthesize are already laid out. Olivia picks one up, grimaces a little, and slides the needle into the big veins just below her wrist. Maybe this is what went wrong the last time. Maybe she needs a dose of the drug to get her to the right place. She's praying that's what it is, because otherwise, she's running out of ideas or other plans.

The empty syringe makes a soft ringing sound as she tosses it back into the tray. Olivia's already all but running up the stairs to access the tank. There's a breathing apparatus dangling over the top, just like in Walternate's lab. She grabs it, fits it into her mouth and takes a breath, and slides into the water with hardly a ripple.

For a minute, nothing happens. Olivia floats in the tank, eyes closed, just breathing and thinking of letting the universe pass through her, just like Walter told her the first time. Thinking of home.

Between one breath and the next, she vanishes, with only a swirling disturbance in the water of the tank to mark that she was there at all. The room stays silent, the tank empty, for another minute or two.

Then the tank explodes in a roar of heat and light, a ring of fire spreading outward and taking hold anywhere it can, blackening what it can't. Olivia tumbles out of the tank along with the water and lands with a crunch in the shattered glass from the tank, choking and gasping while the fire that wasn't put out by the flood dances up the walls.

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Peter and Walter have been arguing for the past five minutes about something that sounds either extremely scientific or like a debate over breakfast food- Steve isn't sure which. Either way, he's made himself as scarce as possible, talking quietly to Gene about nothing in particular while he rubs her ears and she looks at him like he's the only insane biped in the room.

Steve doesn't quite bolt for the office when Olivia calls, but it's a close thing. He stops just before he reaches her. "Yes ma'am?"

Neutrality is considerably more difficult when she's actually face to face with him. She tightens her jaw a little and motions him inside the office, closing the door gently behind him.

"I wanted to talk to you about... Well, Peter mentioned last night that there were comics about you in this universe. And he remembered something about those comics that concerned us. I didn't want to tell you if it wasn't really an issue, if he was remembering it wrong or it was different enough from your world that I could be sure it's not about you, but..."

She takes a breath, and swallows hard before going on. "Under the circumstances, I- we- didn't think it was fair to keep the information from you."

That wasn't what he expected. Granted, he didn't know what to expect, when Peter came back and she didn't and the former didn't say a word about it. It takes a bit to get his thoughts together - fear, curiosity, the general nerves of a soldier about to be handed a file of new information on the enemy.

"Agent Dunham... Olivia." He looks down. "I'm not sure..."

Why does he want to say no?

"Do the other Avengers get hurt? Is it about something that happens, something big, I mean? Because if it's just about me- I don't know if I should know. Should I?"

It doesn't even occur to him whether the information itself is valid or not. It's Olivia, and he knows her well enough by now to know if she thinks it's important, it is.

And the neutral expression vanishes like it was never there at all. She's scared - scared for him. Guilty for dragging him here, for wanting to keep it from him, for wanting to keep him here. A moment ago, this was so simple. She'd want to know, so she'd tell him. Now she has a choice, and she doesn't want it.

"I... Yes. It's something big. And I couldn't... Steve, I can't let you go back without telling you. I just can't. If you want, I can wait until we think we'll be able to send you back. If you don't go back, then it doesn't matter. But if you do, you need to know."

Whether he should is another matter, and she's not sure about that, but she can't keep this from him. If he knows, even if it's true... maybe he can change it.

"All right. Okay. It's all right." He automatically reaches out, rests his hands on her shoulders. It's no different than the gesture he's used too many times with the mothers of dead soldiers, the sisters and friends. It's harder to be nervous when a person is this kind of upset.

He gives one shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'll listen. But I am going back."

She laughs softly at that, no trace of humor in the sound. "I know you will." She can't not sound a little frustrated, even though she knows she'd do the same, under the same circumstances.

She sighs, pulls away from his hands, and picks the first book up off the desk to hand it to him. She doesn't know if he'll want to read it, and it'll take him a while to get through it if he does, but she wants to at least show it to him while she explains. "This is what Peter told me about. There are differences from your world - for one thing, the timeline's off - but it's not enough for me to be sure."

Olivia takes a breath, steadying herself, and goes on, "There was something called the Superhuman Registration Act, which is... exactly what it sounds like. Stark supported registration, you and a lot of other people opposed it, and he tried to hunt you down because of it. In the end, you turned yourself in, and on the way to your trial, you were shot and killed. And I know it's just a comic book from a universe that isn't even closely parallel to yours, but there are things in here that are true that aren't public knowledge where you're from, and... I think this is important."

Steve takes it automatically, almost not hearing her once the book is in his hands. He turns it over, back again, not recognizing a single face except his own and the Iron Man mask. It's a little like being told he's a central figure in some religious text in a language he's never heard of. The circumstances all sound plausible. Plausible. But Tony turning on him like that - Tony supporting something like that. He can't wrap his head around it.

"Who..." A frown. The words are wrong, the question is wrong, everything about all of this is wrong. "Who killed me? According to these."

Olivia watches his face carefully, trying to read his reaction, but she glances away at the question, so quickly it's almost a flinch. God, she doesn't want to be the one telling him this.

"A sniper shot you at the courthouse, and then a woman called Sharon Carter - you were... together, but she was under mind control at the time, and..." She takes a breath, knowing this next revelation is going to be bad. "It all leads back to HYDRA and Red Skull. According to this, they still exist."

"Sharon Carter?" He jerks slightly, tearing the cover. Steve winces. He smoothes it as best he can, tries to remember if he ever mentioned Peggy to Olivia as more than a woman he knew, trying to figure out if he ever actually said her name. He doesn't think so.

HYDRA. Red Skull. His grip on the book tightens again. "That isn't possible. We destroyed them. I saw him-"

Die?

No.

Get dragged into space by a weapon Loki later used after escaping the same situation. Steve tries to keep his breathing even, but he can't look at Olivia. Truth be told he's half-forgotten she's in the room. He opens the book. Scans the first pages. Closes it again.

It takes him almost a minute to open it back up and read on.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "Maybe it is impossible. I hope so. But I can't be sure, and if..."

She breaks off and ducks her head for a second, taking a breath. This isn't about her. How she feels about this... doesn't matter.

"Would you like to be left alone? I can drive you back to your hotel, or just let you have the office until you're done..."

He looks up, trying to parse out what she just said. The first handful of pages, and it's already touched on so many familiar things - Peggy herself, Erskine, the procedure that ended with the scientist's death. But it's all off, just a bit wrong, and all he can think is Peggy wasn't blonde.

"I didn't meet her while I was helping the French Resistance." Steve feels the slightest bit surprised at how dazed he sounds. "I don't know these people. Nick Fury isn't white. Skull is dead. Bucky Barnes is dead."

He doesn't realize his voice is rising until he's standing and slams the innocuous little book down on the desk hard enough to fracture its top. "Skull is dead."

Or there was no point to it. No point to losing everything, no point-

Except saving his city. Except saving millions of lives.

Steve drops back into the chair, yanking his hand away from the comic and the broken desk.

Peter yanks the door open and takes a half-step inside, eyes flicking from the desk, to Olivia, to the Captain and back. "Olivia?"

"It's fine," Olivia says quietly, holding up a hand to Peter, though her eyes are still fixed on Steve. She'd flinched when the desk cracked - hard not to at that display of strength, when he's shouting - and she can't blame Peter for being concerned, but she also can't blame Steve for that reaction. Even he has to have his limits somewhere, and this...

"We're fine."

Olivia pauses for another heartbeat or two, and then steps forward to pull up a chair and sit, near Steve without crowding him. She doesn't say anything, just waits, watching him sidelong with her hands folded in front of her.

Steve doesn't realize he's leaning away from the desk and its contents until Peter opens the office door. He subsides, looking at neither of them, until the door shuts without Peter having said a word - but Steve can see the man's shadow on the glass. Peter isn't even trying to be subtle about his presence any more, clearly.

Deep breaths. Steadying breaths. Trying very hard not to think about the artwork, the man who could be Bucky given ten more years and a little creative license. Steve leans forward dragging his hands through his hair. He has to compose himself. He has to calm down. But he can't figure out how to do it.

Olivia doesn't move or speak until she's certain Steve's not going to - and then she reaches over, picks up the book, and moves it to a table against the wall behind her, out of his direct line of sight. That done, she leans forward, head tilted to try and meet his eyes.

"Steve," she says, her voice low and quiet. "If you think we're wrong... If this doesn't seem right to you, then maybe it's not. Even if it's true in some universe... there are billions of them out there, and this doesn't have to be yours."

"It can't be mine." Though from the way he says it, it's clear he's not sure. The look he gives Olivia isn't helpless, exactly, but it's... lost. "Tony wouldn't..."

But given the right circumstances, Steve can see a world in which Tony would. He can see a world where something like this happened, where there were enough people with abilities functioning outside of government control that it became in some way an issue. He can certainly see a world where Skull would try to assassinate him, given the chance.

"If it is, Olivia, I have to go back, more than ever. If I can keep this from happening, see it coming and stop it, I have to be there to try."

Olivia sighs and presses her hands together, just resting against her lips, while she considers his words. There are no easy answers, no reassurance she can give him or promise that they'll work it out when she doesn't even know for sure if they can get him home - all she knows is that she wants him safe, alive, whatever universe that happens to be in. She doesn't think that's an answer Steve's going to appreciate, and when it comes down to it... she supposes her opinion doesn't matter that much.

Finally, she reaches out to rest her hand on his. "You said it's not your world. The details don't match up, people are alive there who aren't where you come from, and... I don't know, maybe that makes sense. To think that a comic book in this universe could tell the future of yours..." She shakes her head, and then smiles very faintly, squeezing his hand gently. "For now, why don't we just focus on helping Walter figure out how to get you home?"

"Right." He drags himself to his feet and offers her a hand up, more for the contact than anything else. "Whatever Mr. Bishop needs... tissue, blood. As long as it gets destroyed after things get sorted out, if it helps get me back faster, it's his."

Peter straightens as they come out of the office, looking from one to the other for some indicator of the situation. "Cap." He pauses, then amends himself. "Captain Rogers. I'm sorry to blindside you with-"

Steve holds his hand out, and Peter takes it automatically, wondering how Rogers gauges exactly how much strength to use during average physical interactions as opposed to those with people his level of strength.

"Thank you," Steve says, and he does mean it. "For trying to warn me."

Olivia takes his hand to let him help her up, understanding the desire for contact, and she holds his hand tight for a second before releasing it. They'll sort this out - whatever it takes.

She gives Peter a little nod when he glances to her, reassuring him, and steps past the two of them to approach Walter, who's heating something in a beaker that may or may not be meant for human consumption. Olivia's not going to ask, but given the smell, she's not going to offer to taste test either way.

"Walter, Steve has agreed to let you take samples under the condition that we destroy them once we get him home. So, if there's anything you need..."

She emphasizes that last word, hoping he won't go testing Steve just to satisfy his own curiosity, but she's not sure the words actually sink in. Walter's face lights up at the news, and he only pauses to remove his beaker from the flame before starting toward Steve. "Splendid! In that case, Captain... ah... Robins-"

"Rogers," Astrid corrects as she switches off the Bunsen burner.

"-if you could have a seat and roll up your sleeve..."

"I don't want any of this getting back to Massive Dynamic," Olivia announces, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear her. "No samples, no analysis... If they never find out he's here, that would be best." It's not that she still doesn't trust Nina, exactly - but she does believe that if even one of those samples finds its way to Massive Dynamic, it's staying there for good, and given Steve's concerns, she'd rather not risk that.

Steve sits down, rolling his sleeve back with the smoothness of regular practice. "Massive Dynamic?"

"Think of them as Stark Industries, but with more biological research and evil." Peter settles at the side of the room, arms crossed, starting to find his sea legs with the whole comic book VIP thing.

Steve raises his eyebrows, torn between amusement, the comfort of someone making familiar references, and the reality that Peter doesn't know the Stark Industries of Steve's own world. It's unsettling that the comparison still makes sense, in a way. "Good to know."

Edited 2012-05-07 13:41 (UTC)

"They're not evil." Astrid's tone suggests she knows she's not going to be listened to, but feels like someone should point it out.

"Perhaps not, but certainly morally questionable," Walter mutters under his breath as he prepares the syringe.

Olivia bites her lip, glancing down; there's something ironic about Walter Bishop calling anyone's morals into question, but she's not about to actually say as much out loud. She shakes her head with a little smile and crosses the room to join Peter, not quite close enough for her shoulder to touch his, but enough for her to take comfort in just being close to him, something she never thought she'd have again.

Walter takes the blood sample with practised skill, done in less than a minute, and returns the syringe to his kit before coming back with a scalpel. "I'm afraid this won't be pleasant. Would you like some drugs first? I have several you might enjoy..."

Peter touches the back of Olivia's hand with his fingertips, even as he grimaces. There's something so very, very wrong about his father asking Captain America that question. "Walter, don't offer the cultural icon LSD."

"LSD?" Steve looks from Peter to Walter and back again, his face the very picture of not sure if want. "...Regardless, I'll pass. Most drugs don't work on me. Not the way they're supposed to."

"Who said anything about LSD?" Walter asks, glancing back at Peter with a little frown. "I only meant something to dull the pain, but if you insist, Captain..."

Well, having a small square of flesh removed from your arm probably isn't the worst thing you've been through even in recent memory, right, Cap?

Olivia smiles, very slightly, and turns her hand to lace her fingers through Peter's.

Steve grimaces and stares hard at the ceiling as Walter takes what he needs - but really, it's not the worst thing the soldier has felt by a long chalk. It's just made more unpleasant by the otherwise-calm circumstances.

"You'd need something a lot stronger than a local anasthetic. It's not really worth it." Steve exhales as the knife (and skin) get lifted away. "But what's LSD?"

"Illegal hallucinogen. Developed in the 60s. Walter's... an enthusiast." Peter looks down at Olivia's hand, thrilled and horribly guilty at once and not good at hiding either one.

"Lysergic acid diethelyamide," Walter adds cheerfully as he deposits the tissue sample into a petri dish. "Wonderful stuff - useful for much more than you'd think."

He turns and starts for whatever lab equipment he requires, glancing over his shoulder at Olivia and Peter. His eyes flick pointedly to their linked hands, and he smiles faintly before adding, "Analysis will take time. Peter, Olivia, would you like a sandwich while we wait?"

Apparently Steve doesn't get food, or possibly doesn't exist unless he's being poked with sharp things.

Olivia bites her lip and disentangles her fingers from Peter's, though she's smiling as she does. "No, that's fine, Walter. They actually did feed me while I was on the other side, so I promise I'm not starving."

Peter fetches bandages and antiseptic, bandaging up Steve's arm and trying not to think about the fact that it's Captain America.

Yeah, that's still weird. Even for him.

"I'm fine, Walter, thanks." He glances at Steve. "Besides, any food prepped in the lab is suspect. Don't let him serve you anything out of a beaker. Fifty-fifty chance it's experimental, food or not."

"Thank you," Steve says, both for the advice and the bandage. He tugs his sleeve down over the spot. "I'd like to get some fresh air, if that's all right."

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nolimitation - 2012-06-21 15:30 (UTC) - Expand

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