First of- This story is complete.
Second of all- I'm going by on a cleaning check, just to clarify a few typo's here and there. Due to the unavailability of the copy and paste option now, i actually have to re-type every chapter. Please be patient.
Anyways- not relationships in this story.
Tony does not go around killing people or go dark.
I really hope you enjoy this story. Review if you can.
First Cleaning Check: 3-6-14
There were a few times when each of the Avengers learned just how lucky they were to have a certain teammate on their side.
They realized how brutal Thor could act when Bruce was trapped under falling rubble, just after he had changed back.
It was not a moment after the shifting rebar and concrete collapsed did Thor rush forward, wielding Mjolnir with such precision, and with such effect that not twelve jackhammer's could recreate.
Then, from a horrific show of strength he pulled Bruce's unconscious form from the rubble with care that led one to believe he held a newborn baby. From the gentleness he had suddenly given, he turned to rage, the skies rolling black as he faced the terrorist group who dared to challenge he.
Tony had risen into the air, ready to help with the fight- however he could do nothing as if by a freak natural disaster, dozens of lightning bolts rained from the sky, each striking who Thor turned his gaze on- a few striking a few stronger members twice, just to make sure they stayed down.
He looked at them, a pile of smoking bodies before turning and marching away, obviously still upset with Bruce's treatment, leaving the others to follow behind like helpless puppies.
The event still caused slight discomfort within the group; thinking to what was- a god's fury- then to the same god, attempting to fit three waffles inside his mouth at one time, including varying condiments from whipped cream to maraschino cherries just because he could.
Few tried to remember that event- and even worse event that showed just how lethal Natasha was, was when ten assassins from Russia arrived, male and females, experts in areas of acrobatics that even Clint didn't know. Apparently, they were trained from a young age to take down her, only her, as she had left her previous payers quite…displeased, with her work.
They watched, Clint telling them to back away from her own fight, as she took on all ten at one time. Killing them in ways ranging from tripping them off a building, breaking their neck with her legs, or simply shooting them between the eyes.
What made it much more impressive, was the fact that the entire fight was finished just over ten minute. A minute- sixty seconds per assassin.
After the whole ordeal, she had simply turned, avoiding anyone's eye and wandered off, leaving the others to linger around the site as Shield cleaned up the bodies, then retreat to the tower and lounge around until Natasha returned later that night- or the next morning to be accurate.
Clint's was by accident, they had watched his long after the event, by a police camera located on a side of a bank in Iowa.
He had been on a mission, walking on the opposite side of a crowded street of his target, keeping just behind him as he pulled his jacket just a little closer to keep him slightly warmer.
He had no bow on him, having to stay undercover and out of sight- and he was doing how he normally did, excellent, when hands grabbed him, forcing him into a nearby alley while two people slammed him into the gum covered wall.
He blinked in surprise, better eyesight adapting faster than a normal human's, as he quickly looked over the two thugs who held him- eyes blinking in surprise as a name clicked to the long boney face accompanied by a more chubby one with a distinct birthmark covering the corner of his right eyebrow.
"Give us all your money!" The boney one cried out, voice oddly high pitched for a man in his years, the other one grunting as if to add to the threat.
Clint looked at the two, spy training vanishing suddenly in surprise as he looked at the two, hardly registering the fact that there was a knife pressed to his throat- not his jugular might he add.
"You- Duke? Rex?" Clint gasped out- the two guys stumbling backwards and looking at Clint with suspicion as they now held the blades up- eight inch long hunting blades.
"We lost those names when we were kids- who'r you?" The high pitched voice of Duke asked back, sunken eyes looking at Clint intently.
"Maybe some kid from the orphanage, Boss." Rex grunted out, voice deeper then wrestlers as his throat wiggled with the words.
"Yeah- I think I know you!" Duke sneered, using his knife to point.
Clint remembered these two, oh yes, the two jerks that attacked him and Barney, part of the driving factor why he ran away.
But now? Living off the streets in a whole new town?
"I rem'ber you! You that kid who ran off an' join tha' circus!" Duke sneered, falling into raspy laughter as his knife moved up and down with his chest heaving.
"Should we mug em' Boss?" Rex grumbled, looking at the two, unsure.
"Nah! We got 'em and that oth'r kid when we little! Let get 'em now!" Duke laughed, but Rex tilted his head, looking at Clint, who now had several weapons within a second's movement.
"Wai' Boss. Look a' his shoes an' stuff. He all those fancy folk." Rex called out, causing Duke to narrow his eyes as he looked at him.
"Yeah- wait! I've seen 'em bef're now! He was on that telly in tha' window! He w'th a bow now!" Duke called out, finally remembering, before pressing his knife back to Clint's throat, snickering and showing several orange coloured teeth with odd black spots on them.
"You work'en with those superfolk! Oh- you've got lot of money on ya'!" Duke laughed, looking pointedly towards the pockets off his windbreaker.
"The proper word is Avengers." Clint threw back, the two noticing how his words seemed more…complete.
"Ya' learn that bow at 'em circus?" Duke snickered, dragging the knife around Clint's exposed chin, before meeting his eyes.
"Partially- the government found special use for me." Clint responded coldly, remembering what these goons weren't afraid to do.
"Ooh! Lisen' here Boss! He's one of 'em Politicians!" Rex spoke, Duke laughing in unison with Rex, before the dragging knife tip found something on Clint's upper arm.
"Wha' here?" He asked, ripping the sleeve off with a few messy slices, before pulling out the pistol and dropping it like it was a burning coal.
"'E got a gun on 'im! A gun! He one of 'ose killer people!" Duke shouted, and Clint glanced at the entrance to the alley way, hoping nobody saw.
"You're right. I am an assassin." Clint stonily stated blandly, looking with slight satisfaction the look of fear on the two, before pulling out two guns- from an area the two were befuddled by- and quickly took aim before taking aim and squeezing the trigger.
Resulting in a small clicking noise.
"If I ever catch you mugging, raping, attacking, hell, even stealing- anybody, I won't hesitate to blow your brains out, Duke, Rex." Clint growled, eyes and face showing only seriousness, and the two quickly scampered, leaving Clint sighing at the ripped sleeve of his jacket.
On the security footage the others watched, it looked much more impressive.
The Hulk, was scary all the time. One didn't have a reason to trust it unless it trusted you first. Steve was kindhearted, nice and gentle, and at times, it was hard to think of him doing anything that could risk the team.
Stark was similar, always joking and throwing witty insults around without care. Most of the time, the only thing that could hurt anybody about him were his defective weapons on the suit.
And right now, nobody was buying it.
"Stark? Dangerous? I don't think he could be dangerous, Director." Clint scoffed, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, balancing on the back two legs of his chair.
"I agree- Stark doesn't even hurt our foes that bad." Steve shrugged in his seat, looking at Fury.
"You'd be surprised, Agent." Fury grumbled, slapping a file on the table, just at an angle to allow Clint to read Tony's name on the cover.
"Tony doesn't seem like the…dangerous type." Bruce warily stated, looking at folder as if it would lunge up and bite him- or at least take a few fingers off of him.
"Bruce is right, Tony doesn't seem hostile." Natasha stated, looking at Fury with a well hidden confused mask.
"That's because he isn't hostile yet." Fury clarified, causing everyone to look at him.
"…You've lost me." Clint stated, summing up everyone's thoughts.
Fury pushed the folder over the table, letting it slide to a halt right in front of Bruce, who frowned but slipped it open, taking out the sheet of paper off of the top of the pile.
"Tony Stark statistics page? Okay- age: 34-"
"Thirty four? Hah- looks like you're the youngest Cap." Clint smirked, looking at Steve who looked slightly disgruntled.
"Date of Birth: May 9th, Recruitment for Avengers: Yes. What's so wrong with this?" Bruce frowned, looking up at Fury with a frown.
"Read the side notes." Fury nodded, causing Bruce to look back down once more.
"Side Notes: Tony Stark does not cooperate well on a team as well as taking orders from others-"
"Don't we know that." Natasha muttered under her breath.
"He shows signs of lack of Self regard-"
"Friend Stark did take the weapon into the portal." Thor agreed, causing a few nods around the tables.
"-And is a possible danger to others. Okay, I see the point here, but why else am I- Mental? What? Who put this up here?" Bruce blinked in surprise causing Steve to look at him in alarm.
"Stark is mental?"
"No- it's a category. Mental Status: unstable. Unstable? What does that mean?" Bruce frowned, and Fury slid another paper across, a medical file.
"Okay- Mr. Stark has refused therapists and psychologists on multiple occasions. Assumed Post Traumatic Amnesia. Suffers from PTSD- What? When did he get PTSD?" Bruce gasped, looking up in alarm. Fury managed a frown, Natasha mirroring it.
"Friend Banner- what is this PTSD you speak of?" Thor asked, confused.
"It's an illness, after you see something really bad, and you get flashbacks, nightmares, all that stuff." Clint tried to clarify, causing Steve's eyes to flash in recognition.
"It's when you see or have gone through a traumatic experience- but Tony never showed any signs of having PTSD!" Bruce argued, looking at Fury who lifted one eyebrow and crossed his arms.
"You mean you haven't looked, for the signs, Dr. Banner. Tell me- does Stark startle often, doesn't focus, doesn't fall asleep, or when he does, have nightmares? Tell me, when did you ever see Stark swimming? Or even near a pool?" Fury growled, causing Steve's eyes to widen slightly, and jaw click shut.
"He's had bad memories of water? Did he almost drown or something?" Clint frowned, looking at Natasha who stiffened suddenly as her eyes narrowed.
"Tasha?" He asked quizzically, and she looked at them with a regretful look.
"I- Pepper mentioned a little how Stark was taken captive…and tortured."
"Water Boarding." Bruce stated numbly, causing Steve to look slightly horrified before Bruce looked back down at the paper.
There's more- Diagnosed Narcissism! What!" Bruce blinked, staring at the sheet and growing slightly pale.
"You see why Stark can be dangerous." Fury nodded, causing even more confusion.
"Wait- I've heard of it in the passing, what is Narcissism exactly?" Clint asked, the legs of his chair setting down as Bruce swallowed.
"It's- it's a mental disorder-"
"Knew Stark was messed up in the head, just not this bad." Steve muttered under his breath, Bruce ignored it and continued on.
"It's an illness in the way one judge's self- causing them to be self-absorbed." Bruce swallowed, not wanting to look at the paper that stared mockingly the results.
"Why is that bad? We all know Stark is self-absorbed." Clint smiled, trying to lighten the mood slightly from the previous downcast feeling.
"There's more than one type of Narcissism, Clint." Natasha sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"She means that Shield is afraid that he's going to develop Aggressive Narcissism." Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"…We don't know what that means Bruce." Steve muttered after a slightly awkward silence, and Bruce sighed, caring to delve deeper.
"It entitles one to superficial charm, a killer ego, constant lying, lack of remorse and guilt, lack of empathy, manipulative, and failure to accept responsibilities." Bruce sighed, looking upright and the others going quiet.
"Oh…that would be…bad." Clint muttered, but Thor frowned.
"How is one sure that Friend Stark has this…illness?"
"There are the seven symptoms-" Natasha started, apparently having looked it up.
"Having no shame, thinking oneself is perfect, being arrogant, constant envy, special treatment, exploitation of others without caring for feelings, and having bad boundaries or limits." Natasha prattled off, each Avenger having a sicker feeling in there gut.
"…So you're saying that if Stark wasn't on our side, he could be a Loki." Clint deadpanned, and Fury sighed, looking away.
"To be honest, Stark is a weapon genius. He has a thinking pattern that makes him unpredictable, he hides his emotions in such way that even Shield cannot predict his next move." Fury growled, rubbing his one good eye, showing how tired he actually was.
"…Director, if we were ever to fight Stark, what would our chances be?" Steve asked quietly, causing Fury to look up with a grim smile.
"If we were at war against a single man? How do you think we would do, Rodgers?"
Steve shifted in his seat, thinking about the past, the ideas and thoughts- Howard had been smart, and if Tony was just as smart, he would be a tricky foe.
"I don't think we would win unscathed."
"Captain- if we were ever to fight Stark, our chances would be less then you singlehandedly fighting Loki."
"That's impossible- Stark's only one man." Clint added, frowning at how the situation turned.
"A single man with a mental illness, PTSD, and an IQ rivaling Einstein's." Bruce muttered, causing Steve to frown.
"After Stark escaped from the Ten Rings, he slaughtered every single one, destroying the entire group." Natasha stated, causing Steve to stiffen slightly and Clint to look up in surprise.
"He…killed an entire Terrorist group? The ones that captured him before? He didn't give them to the authorities?" Bruce choked out, looking slightly sick.
"Banner- he killed a total of Two Hundred Twelve Men in less than four hours." Natasha clarified, and Steve now was unsure.
This man was on his team?
"You asked what would happen in war against him?" Fury asked, leaning back with a frown before narrowing his eye on Steve, "Stark has contacts, money, brains, people working for him, and is as impossible to get rid of as a wart-" He sighed, a slight twitch of the lips showing a grim smile.
"Captain- if we were ever against Stark, there wouldn't be a fight- we'd be dead already."
Might as well mention it here.
This story was initially written as a Oneshot- it was eventually reviewed enough times that i decided to continue the story.
It is officially complete, and i will only be going through it for typo's at this time.
PLEASE please review- if not, feel free to check out any current stories, or read.
Hope you enjoy the ride.
Thank you so much Eaglejarl for typing up a review with all the spelling errors in it. I mean it- thank you so much.