Chapter Text
Fred tugged uncomfortably at the Kevlar vest, adjusting it as he marched down the sidewalk, George at his side. It had been easy to knock out two of the muggle police officers and steal their uniforms. A simple glamour on their hair made them nearly unrecognizable. They made sure to look busy, and no one stopped them as they wove through all the milling emergency personnel. This was partly because they did a great job of blending in, but mostly because most of the people they passed were still under Harry’s Imperio.
“You would think that it’d be easy to find two gods in New York,” George said idly.
“True statement brother, true statement,” Fred said. “Maybe we should ask for directions?”
George turned his head, staring at Fred through his plastic face shield. “You’re an idiot.”
“It’s just an idea,” Fred said mulishly.
“I’ve got a better idea,” George suddenly said, and veered off to speak to two men in black unmarked uniforms who stood nearby.
Listening to the non-Imperioed men gossiping in the streets – and they were easy to spot because their uniforms were different, sleeker and without distinguishing markings – the damage was barely comparable to the attack a few weeks ago. There had been zero civilian casualties, a miracle that the muggles were going to work out eventually. The Imperioed men followed orders just fine, and even seemed to be able to reason and problem-solve well enough to help with the clean up efforts under their own power. During the war Fred had received an extensive education on recognizing someone who was spelled. If he hadn’t, he doubted that he would have been able to tell.
It made him sad, how much practice Harry had casting that spell. But he was reluctantly happy for it now, as George trotted back.
“What did you do?” Fred asked curiously.
“I didn’t ask directions,” George said, grinning behind the face shield. “That’s a stupid idea.”
“Sure,” Fred drawled. “What did they say?”
“The gods are on one of the little islands,” George announced proudly.
“The whole city is on an island.”
“One of the little ones. I just said--.”
“Yeah, yeah. I heard you. Which way?”
“South.”
“Well that’s specific,” Fred grumbled. “We need transportation.”
They jogged South, ducking around the perimeter that had been set up. Thankfully most people were still underground, so they had the streets to themselves. They found a car, and George struggled to strip the correct wires until Fred shouldered him out of the way and finished up.
“Point me, Governor’s Island,” Fred intoned from the passenger seat. “South,” he announced.
George glowered at him and put the car in drive.
****
Natasha watched quietly as Steve was escorted from the bridge. Thankfully Fury seemed done with them, turning on his heel to stalk back to the command cradle. Next to her, Clint was just as quiet as she was, but she sensed his restlessness. A single touch on his wrist was enough to still him. She turned her focus onto Coulson, who was examining Fury’s profile thoughtfully. Then he turned, nodding his head toward the door. Natasha and Clint fell into step behind him.
As soon as the bridge doors closed Clint sucked in a breath to speak.
“No,” Coulson said quietly, stopping him before he could begin. “Follow me.”
He led them to his own office, motioning for them to take a seat in the two chairs in front of his desk.
“How’s the leg?” he asked idly as he booted up his computer.
“It’s fine.”
“You’ll go by medical as soon as we’re done here and get it looked at.” It was a statement of fact and Natasha sighed and nodded.
“Phil…” Clint said lowly.
“One moment.” Coulson entered a command into the computer and all the lights in the office flickered for a moment as Colson deactivate the monitoring devices. “Okay,” he announced shortly. “Now we can speak.”
“What the hell?” Clint bleated. “What the hell is Fury thinking? Why didn’t you stop him?”
“For the same reason you didn’t,” Coulson said calmly.
“What do we do?” Natasha asked.
Coulson sat back, looking between Natasha and Clint silently for a moment. “Do you two trust me?” Natasha raised her eyebrows at her handler, letting her face speak for her. Next to her, Clint scoffed and leaned back in his chair. Coulson’s smile was fleeting but heartfelt. “Good,” he said flatly. “You move as soon as possible. This threat isn’t over. We need to reassemble the team.”
“Avengers assemble,” Clint laughed under his breath.
Colson smiled fleetingly and then pointed at Natasha. “Medical, now.”
Natasha grumbled under her breath, but knew that now that Clint had been assigned her shadow there was no chance of her blowing the order off. Clint’s jaw was clenched as they stepped out of the office, the moment of lightness passed and replaced with Clint’s unique type of furious worry. Natasha didn’t speak on the way to medical because there was always the chance of being overheard in the hallway. Clint was quiet as well, but long familiarity allowed Natasha to sense the furious thoughts that he was unwilling to reveal while they were in private. Outside the med-center Natasha paused and raised her eyebrows at him. He stared back at her for a moment, and then took a deep breath. The restlessness sloughed off and he offered a tight smile. Natasha nodded, and palmed the door mechanism.
The double doors slid open and they walked into a quiet desperate sort of chaos. Clint snagged one of the junior medics and demanded to know what was going on. Around the nervous man’s stutters they learned that the two unknowns that they were supposed to have detained in the med-center were gone, but not only that. The majority of the equipment had shorted as well. Clint released the man, smiling tightly.
“I’d bet $20 that Banner went with them,” Clint said quietly.
“I wouldn’t take that bet,” Natasha said. “Coulson wanted us to know that they had gone.”
“Yeah,” Clint grunted. “But he also wanted someone to look at your leg. Nice try.”
Natasha sighed and allowed herself to be towed over to one of the beds. The long gash on the outside of her thigh needed stitches, and Natasha endured the medic’s administrations with grudging patience as Clint perched himself on the back of a nearby chair.
“Exciting day, huh?” Clint asked casually.
The medic rolled his eyes from behind his mask, but didn’t look up as he placed another stitch in Natasha’s leg.
“Tell me about it. After the last one, this operation seemed easy. Then this happened.”
Natasha watched the technicians work on the equipment, listening as Clint casually interrogated her medic.
“What do you think it was?”
“No idea,” the man said distractedly. “I heard a tech say that it looked like a EMP pulse, but it’s only isolated to the med-center. My money’s on those two prisoners that they brought in. But when we scanned them, they came up clean. No technology, no hidden biometrics.” The medic shrugged.
Natasha glanced at Clint over the medic’s bowed head, and Clint gave a little nod of understanding.
“Okay, finished,” the medic announced as he gently pressed a bandage over the stitched wound. “You know the deal. Try not to get them wet. Come back in 7 days and someone will take them out. You, uh, don’t have to do it yourself.”
Clint laughed at the scowl that painted itself across Natasha’s face. “You’ll never live that down.”
“It was more efficient to take care of it myself,” Natasha said causally.
“Yeah. That infection was super efficient.”
The medic cleared his throat uncomfortably, tossing his gloves into the disposal bin. “I would say try to take it easy, but I’m realistic. Sorry about your uniform.”
Natasha glanced at the patch that had been cut down her leg so the medic could get at her wound. “I have spares,” she said calmly.
The medic smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I bet. Need a painkiller?”
Natasha didn’t even bother responding to that, getting to her feet, while playing up the pain that ignited in her leg. Clint’s eyebrows rose, but instantly he seemed to get it. He offered his arm, and Natasha put on a bit of a show of leaning on him.
The medic eyed this, not suspicious but surprised. “Was it that bad out there?” he seemed to regret the question right away.
Clever easy-going Clint just smiled, and began to lead Natasha out of the center. “I know she’s scary but she gets tired every once in a while too. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Yes,” Natasha agreed flatly. “Don’t.”
The medic, sufficiently scared, disappeared back into the throng. Clint manfully hid his flinch as Natasha buried her finger tips into the meat of his elbow in retaliation. Revenge doled out, she turned her attention inward.
Okay, she thought. Bruce was gone. He could have gone anywhere; if there was anything that that man was known for, other than having an explosive alter ego, it was his ability to go to ground. If he didn’t already know, Fury would have his location soon.
The magic users were the wild card. Fury seemed to have a better understanding of their capabilities. While the thought that the director had access to the means to neutralize the magic users seemed fantastical, Natasha could not dismiss it. She didn’t fully understand, but Harry had admitted that that he could only teleport to familiar locations. If it was true for Harry, than it was likely true for all magic users.
The Tower was her first bet.
She turned to Clint, her eyebrows raised. At once she had her partner’s attention. They had fallen back to one of the little used briefing rooms. It was small, the walls solid and obscuring. It was not safe, but the illusion was welcomed now. Her fingers moved, touching her uniform purposefully and fidgeting with her hair as she asked aloud what Clint thought about the recent battle.
“Went rather well, considering,” she said ruefully. Silently, Establish contact. A-HQ. Banner + two others. Reposition away. Over.
“Didn’t know Thanos would be that ugly.” 10-4. Distraction required. Rendezvous location – Brooklyn safe house 6212, 5th. Directions regarding Stark? Over.
“Is that really all you have to say?” 10-4 Distraction, rendezvous. Abscond with Cap Rogers. Stark – unknown. Meet T-24hr. Over.
“Not much to say about it is there? I should check in with Coulson and report back about your trip to the med-center.” Clint stood, smiling ruefully. FUBAR’ed
Natasha stood as well, once again playing up her pain. Her parting motion didn’t require literal translation but he understood. “I’m going for a shower,” she announced.
Clint’s eyes softened, just a little bit, and he sent the gesture back. “Keep it dry,” Clint said.
Sometimes, they didn’t need words.
****
George put the car in park, staring out across the dirty waters of the Hudson at the island in the distance.
“Okay,” he said calmly. “Now what?”
Fred just grinned and climbed out of the car. George, ever the more cautious one, glanced around first before doing the same.
“They’re Gods right?” Fred asked rhetorically. “How do people normally get in touch with Gods?”
George stared at him for a moment, before he grinned as well.
****
Tony had JARVIS scan the area, but there was no trace of the transport that had taken Harry away. Tony gave himself a moment to freak out, his cursing hidden from the world inside his helmet. Then he flew home, tentatively confident with the thought that he was a goddamn genius and if he wanted to find someone there was nothing on this earth that could stop him. He landed on the penthouse disassembly platform, forcing himself to walk slowly enough so the armor could be peeled off him. He only had eyes for his workshop, so he was a little taken aback when Bruce appeared in the path to the elevator.
Tony stared at him for a moment, thoughts whirling quickly. “Bill and Fleur bring you here?”
Bruce nodded, looking pointedly to the side where the two wizards were sitting on his sofa. Tony’s stared at them for a moment.
“There’s a magical way to track people isn’t there?”
Bill’s face fell and his shoulders hunched slightly. “What happened?” he asked, but he sounded as if he didn’t really want to know.
His wife however and turned even colder. She looked predatory, and Tony felt himself bristle in anticipation for a confrontation. She opened her mouth, but Bill reached over and settled a hand over her wrist. They didn’t look at each other, but Fleur deflated slightly and Bill’s spine straightened.
“What happened?” he asked again, and there was steel in his voice.
Tony snorted, his rage flaring as he thought back. “SHIELD happened. They took Harry. I’m not sure where. Do your magic thing and look for him, thanks. I’m going down to do the same.”
Before they could say anything else, Tony was stalking away. He felt himself relax as soon as he stepped foot in the workshop, his space, and absolutely safe, thank you very much. He threw himself down at a workstation and rubbed his hands together.
“Fire it up JARIVS.”
“Of course sir.”
Satellite feeds of the area blossomed in bright electric blue around him, the data beginning an hour before Tony had arrived on the island. JARVIS had already done a sweep, scanning the visuals for any transport that might have left the island in that time. The results, or non-results as Tony found, were listed there. At some point Thor had arrived with his brother and were still there. Transports were still arriving with the remains of Thanos’ army. Tony tracked them all, keeping in mind that it was possible that one of those transports had left the island with Harry. He was lucky that SHIELD tech was a fat load of nothing compared to what he was capable of.
It only took minutes to trace each transport by its specific electronic signal, an even shorter amount of time to retroactively tap into the communications running through each of the consoles. There was no mention of Harry, by name or otherwise. As JARVIS did that, Tony went on a limb a calculated the weight on the supposedly empty transports, but Harry was tiny, and any weight fluctuation between the vehicles could easily be explained away.
Twenty minutes after Tony began, he remembered that Harry had been wearing a communicator, one of the many he’d built for the team after the other invasion. (And wasn’t that hilarious? Two alien invasions in as many months. How was this his life?) It was quick work to figure out which communicator Harry had snatched up when he left. It wasn’t transmitting now; that would be too much to hope for. Tony went back, scanning for the last clear signal. It had disappeared for a while, the signal weakening as it traveled underground. It reappeared about 30 minutes later, briefly moved west while gaining altitude before it disappeared.
“Think we’ve got something, J,” he muttered.
“I agree.” Unbidden JARVIS overlaid the transport trajectories. One matched, perfectly.
“Upload that.”
“I’ve already begun doing so. The Mark VII is ready for assembly but before you leave Dr. Banner has some information for you.”
Tony’s face twisted, unwilling to waste time, but wary of missing out on an important piece of information.
“Fine,” he said shortly. “He’s in the gallery?”
“Correct sir.”
“Do you know what I’m wondering JARVIS?”
“I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
Tony’s smile was brittle, but he allowed himself to take solace in JARVIS’ wit. “I’m wondering how puny SHIELD managed to capture a superpowered wizard.”
“It does seem unlikely.”
“Begin a new protocol J. Take a peek at SHIELD’s systems.” Tony glanced up at the elevator ceiling in thought. “Specifically anything related to Phase II and any correlating programs. Any newly acquired weaponry or technology. I want a comprehensive list.”
The elevator deposited him on the gallery floor just as JARVIS uttered a quiet ‘yes sir’ as affirmation.
Bruce looked up from his tablet and got to his feet. “SHIELD arrested Steve.”
Tony blinked, struck silent for a moment, but only a moment. “Fury has lost his mind.”
Bruce nodded, considering the statement with the gravity it deserved. Which was all of it, all of the gravity.
“Clint’s on his way back from the Helicarrier. He heavily implied that we should make ourselves scarce encase Fury decides that the rest of us should be locked up too.”
Tony knew that he should leave, Harry’s trail growing colder the longer he stood there. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes for a moment, reluctantly admitting to himself that this situation was a mess. It was a huge steaming mess, and it didn’t make sense.
“This doesn’t make sense,” he said aloud.
“Yeah,” Bruce agreed dryly. “Which part?”
“None of it,” Tony said. “None of it makes any sense. There’s something wrong with Fury. He’s an asshole, but he’s not completely stupid.”
Bruce was quiet for a moment. Then Tony watched his face tighten as he hopped onto Tony’s brainwave, riding it like a pro. That right there was why they were science bros.
“Mind control?”
“Why not?” Tony asked. “We’ve seen it before.”
The elevator doors opened, depositing a slightly out of breath Barton into the gallery. “Fury’s gone crazy,” he announced.
“Mind control,” Tony offered grimly.
Barton paused, expression stuttering. “Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s the consensus. I thought we were done with that.” His eyes narrowed. “Are we sure Loki’s not behind it?”
“No,” Bruce admitted quietly.
Barton sighed. “Okay, we’ll chat about it later. We’re abandoning the Tower. Until we figure out what exactly is up with Fury, we can’t afford him locking the rest of us up. Nat and I have a safehosue in Brooklyn. Give me a minute to throw on some civvies and stow my gear and we’ll head out.”
“You’ll head out,” Tony corrected. “I’m going after Harry.”
Barton nodded his agreement and then loped off down the hallway.
“I’m headed out,” Tony said stepping toward the assembly platform. “I’ll be in contact, hopefully with Harry.”
Bruce nodded, and offered a little wave as the armor began to snap into place. The HUD flickered to life, the path already laid out.
“All right buddy,” he said quietly. “I’m coming for you.”
With a blast of repulsors he was airborne.
****
The distraction had been easy. The techs down in in the chemical labs were notoriously excitable. A quick rewiring in the alarm system and the entire Helicarrier was on alert for a potential toxic chemical spill. It happened often enough that was wasn’t completely unheard of, but it did require all personnel to begin enacting one of their many containment protocols. Natasha was betting that Fury wouldn’t want it common knowledge that he was detaining Captain America, which meant that he would be confined to his bunk, as opposed to the brig. They would move him now, following the protocol like all other personnel. They would take him to the brig now, because Fury wasn’t stupid and probably knew that Steve would slip away at the first opportunity.
She was rarely wrong, and she wasn’t wrong now. She’d tucked herself up into the ventilation system, admitting that Clint was right about it being the easiest way to get around unseen. Steve and his escort would need to pass by her position, and a moment later they appeared around the corner. Natasha shifted deliberately, and Steve’s eyes jumped to the vent. She was pretty sure he could make out the color of her hair in the gloom, but any layman wouldn’t be able to. Her gamble paid off, and he slowed as his escort passed under the vent.
“Sir?” one of the agents asked, shifting nervously.
“Something in my boot.” The Captain bent over his foot, and Natasha struck.
She burst from the vent, her thighs wrapping around one of the agent’s neck. She squeezed, putting pressure on the carotid. The agent dropped a few seconds later, the other agent falling next to him curtsey of Steve’s right hook.
“We gotta go Captain.”
“Yeah,” Rogers said, frowning down at the agents. He spared a moment to look up at her, reluctance reflected in his expression. Natasha stared at him, allowing her impatience to shine through, and Steve sighed, motioning for her to lead the way.
Natasha took off, using her knowledge of the corridors to avoid any personnel. They’d almost reached the airstrip before they were stopped. The squad barring their way was armed, but Natasha severely doubted that they were carrying fatal ammunition.
The Captain didn’t seem willing to take that chance. He stepped out in front of her, and Natasha huffed out a tiny annoyed breath.
“You don’t want to do this guys,” Roger said calmly. “Just let us pass.”
“We’ve received orders to escort you and Agent Romanov to the brig,” the squad leader said. “I’m sorry sir.” He brought his rifle up.
Natasha was already moving. She ran forward, sliding the last few feet on her knees as the squad opened fire. Traq darts, she noted. She used her momentum to hop smoothly to her feet, grasping the neck of one of the rifles and pointing it over her shoulder as the agent fired. She jerked the agent forward, throwing him off balance and then put him down with her widow’s bite. Immediately she dropped, sweeping her leg out to strike another agent in the back of the knee. He went down. A sharp shock later and he was out. Rogers had handled two of the four remaining, and Natasha turned, looking for the last two men. There was a soft ‘thunk’ of a traq dart hitting flesh, and then the muffled thud of a body hitting the metal deck. Upon noticing their attention the remaining man removed his hands from his gun and raised them in the air. The three of them stood in silence for a moment, Natasha and the Captain eyeing the man on the ground who had fallen to friendly fire and the rouge agent in turns.
Visibly uncomfortable with the silence the agent shift and blurted, “Something’s not right here.” Finding confidence in his words, the young man straightened. “I try not to just blindly follow orders.”
“Good idea,” Natasha admitted and the agent released a relieved breath.
“What’s your name?” Roger asked.
“Agent Spencer,” the young man said, and tugged his helmet off, revealing a mess of brown curls and dark blue eyes. “Could you knock me out before you go? I’d like to avoid getting written up for letting you escape.”
“Thank you Agent Spencer,” Roger said. “We’ll remember that you helped us.”
“Great,” the young man said. “Captain America owes me a favor.” He was grinning just a little bit. “You should go.”
Rogers nodded gravely and then punched the agent hard enough to knock him to the ground. “Right,” he said, heavily. “Let’s go.”
Natasha led the way to the transport she’d chosen, trying not to smirk at Rogers’ surprised look when he discovered his shield and the rest of his uniform stowed in the back.
“Has anyone told you you’re amazing?” Rogers asked as he tugged on the top part of his armor.
“I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” Control was squawking in her ear, but she ignored them, engaging the engine and taking off.
“Agent Romanov,” Fury growled through the comm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Leaving, sir,” Natasha said drolly and blocked his frequency.
Rogers, fully dressed, took a seat in the co-pilot chair. “What’s stopping them from coming after us?” he asked. Natasha turned and raised her eyebrows at him. “Never mind, of course you have it handled. What was I thinking?” Natasha snorted. “What do we know about the situation?”
“Not much,” Natasha admitted. “But we know one thing for sure. Fury is many things,” Natasha said gravely, “but he’s not stupid. We think he’s been compromised.”
“We?”
“Clint, Coulson, and I.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“Clint went ahead to evac the Tower. There are a few safe houses that we use. Shield knows about some of them, but not all of them. We’ll meet and go over our options.”
Rogers sat back, rubbing a weary hand over his face. “I thought this one seemed too easy.”
“That should have been your first clue. If it seems too easy, it probably is.”
“Someone should write that down, save it for posterity.”
Natasha pressed her lips together, trying to hide her smile.
****
They only had to pray for a few minutes before the air shimmered and Loki appeared. He looked annoyed, but then that had been his default for the last few days. Fred still grinned at him, because sweet fucking Merlin it was freakin’ Loki.
“You pray too loudly,” Loki said.
“Sorry, Sir,” Fred said.
“Yeah, sorry. But we have something for you,” George announced.
“A message.”
“It’s from Harry.”
Loki’s head tipped to the side. “Proceed.”
George told him, Fred jumping in when he felt the need. At the end, Loki looked mostly fascinated, and not overly concerned.
“I know of what he speaks. I must confer with my brother. Did Potter give you any further instructions?”
“He didn’t have time.”
Loki went quiet, face pensive for a moment. “Very well. Infiltrate the organization. Learn their plans. Don’t get caught.”
There was a brief moment of hesitation. Fred turned to his brother, wondering what exactly they had gotten into. Then it was gone. Resolution replaced their reluctance, as they each remembered what they were here to do. Harry Potter was family, and you didn’t leave family to deal with something like this alone.
And it was fucking Loki, Loki!
“Sure,” Fred agreed.
“No problem,” George added.
Loki nodded, shimmering again before disappearing. Fred and George stared at where he’d been for a moment, and then looked at each other.
“Okay,” George sighed.
“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “But hey, look at it this way. We’re awesome.”
“Yeah,” George said. “We’re bloody amazing.”
“And we’re going to sneak into a spy agency. That’s brilliant.”
“So brilliant,” George said, grinning. “The bragging rights alone.”
“We’ll be bragging for years.”
“Okay,” George said and clapped his hands together. “First item. We find our brother wizards. We have to go shopping.”