Uncompromising Principles

Disclaimer: Premise and characters belong to Marvel, I'm just playing with them.

Timeline Notes: I'm planning three sequels:

"Pros and Cons of Anonymity" will start were "Aftermath I" ends and continues the storylines with Spider-Man figuring out how the Accords affect him and Pepper's pregnancy. Because Gwen Stacy's father has an important role she'll be Peter's romantic interest (nothing against MJ and Gwen/Peter probably won't going beyond pining but having a kid Peter's age affects Captain Stacy's interactions with him). May Parker, Harley Keener and Harry Osborn will also be major characters.

"Lima to Stockholm", Tony and Loki's storyline starts immediately after Loki took possession of Tony's body way back in chapter four. Because I've been asked, endgame for the series is Pepperony. That doesn't mean I won't flirt with FrostIron a bit. But the situation between Loki and Tony is not grounds for a healthy relationship of any sort (for the exact same reasons that Foggy is careful of influencing Steve).

"Two Steps Behind" is my preemptive version of "Infinity Wars" and is going to be set roughly four years after CACW. "Aftermath II" and the other two sequels set up the starting conditions for Thanos' arrival.

Chapter Nineteen: Aftermath II

The building was pleasant, with wide hallways lit by numerous windows that let in natural light and surrounded by peaceful gardens. Still Vision always felt uncomfortable there, there was always the faint hint of medicinal smells in air and no matter how he tried to shield himself he could never quite escape the feel of dozens of minds each lost in their own reality, unable to connect with others due to the lack of a shared frame of reference.

A member of the staff smiled when she saw him. "She's in the east garden, by the willow."

"Thank you," Vision replied gravely. Then he stepped through the wall and out into the garden.

The nurse shook her head with s sigh, "At least none of the patients saw him this time."

Vision found Wanda sitting beneath the waterfall of branches. When she saw him her face brightened as she waved. "Did you see Pietro on your way in? He just left. Somehow you two always miss each other."

"I did not see him," Vision replied sadly.

"He moves very fast," Wanda replied. She shook her head "Sometimes I think he's avoiding you. He is odd about me dating. Even though we are twins he wishes to be the older brother."

"How are you?" Vision asked.

Wanda shrugged and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "It is peaceful here. Everyone is kind, except the green haired man. He asks annoying questions and I quite dislike him."

"He only wishes to help you become well," Vision said. "You should try to do as he asks."

Wanda turned away. "The food is very bland."

"I will bring paprika the next time I visit," Vision said.

"I made Langos the other day, my mother's recipe," Wanda reported. "It made me cry. I don't know why. I was going to save you some, but it isn't good once it cools and you didn't come."

"I apologize," Vision said. "My week was somewhat hectic."

"I forgive you," Wanda carelessly waved off the subject. "The breeze is picking up, I should go in."

Vision offered her his arm and Wanda giggled. "You are very old fashion," she said. "The other girls say you are odd, but don't worry. Mama will like you and Papa will approve, even if Pietro is being foolish."

Vision did not respond.

"I hope they return soon." Wanda smiled warmly up at Vision as he walked her back inside the psychiatric hospital. "I really want you to meet my family."

Alexi Shostakov met Vision in front of the hospital after his visit was done. "How was she?" the Russian asked.

"It was- Not a bad day," Vision replied. "There are days when she is more in the world but today she was content. I do not know which should be considered a good day. Thank you for waiting."

"We are teammates," Alexi said. "It is the least I can do."

"Mr. Nelson, are you seriously proposing that we imprison all the rogue Avengers in the same place? After their escape from the Raft?" the chairman of the oversight committee asked.

"The Raft escape was only accomplished with outside assistance. At this point all the Avengers who opposed the Accords have surrendered," Foggy pointed out. "You can't put them in general population without starting a riot and you can't hold them in isolation for years, they'd go insane. Keeping them together is the sensible solution."

"Wakanda has refused to extradite Barnes. The US has only one prison rated to hold enhanced humans, stripped of their equipment Wilson, Barton and Lang don't qualify. Why would we waste that resource holding them there?" the US representative asked.

"Why not?" Foggy replied. "Due to ongoing legal matters I visit Mr. Rogers regularly. I know you've already emptied a wing to keep him separate from the actual villains imprisoned there because the fights are almost guaranteed to put your guards at risk and Steve doesn't cause any problems as long as he's not attacked. It's been nearly three months since Steve Rogers surrendered. Dr. Samson and I are the only people talking with him and because of the era in which he grew up Steve is extremely distrustful of mental health professionals. Which is understandable, while he was growing up the lobotomy was just becoming a highly popular treatment for anyone deemed too difficult to manage. Other common tools in a psychiatrist's trade included drugging patients into unconsciousness for days or even months at a time or inducing high fevers, convulsions and insulin shock as a 'cure' for mental illness. It is not the case now but that was the state of psychiatry that he grew up hearing about. He can't trust Dr. Samson which leaves me as his only regular human contact. Keeping him so isolated is blatantly unhealthy and invokes a number of human rights concerns. Apart from the moral considerations, Steve Rogers is the single most dangerous person you have incarcerated in that prison, do you really want to risk him losing his mind and becoming uncooperative?"

"So you propose we do the work of gathering an army for Rogers to lead against the Accords when he starts feeling less guilty about Tony Stark's death?" the chairman replied.

"Better than inspiring an army of supporters out here by mistreating him," Foggy replied. "Ownership of the shield has is currently being contested by the US government, Wakanda and Stark Industries as it's a symbol of the United States, made by Howard Stark out of vibranium stolen from Wakanda. The Ant-Man technology has been returned to Pym Technologies. The US army has reclaimed the Falcon gear. Clint Barton is an unenhanced, forty-five year-old archer. Are you telling me that they're more dangerous together than dozens of Enhanced appearing in the world who are still trying to decide whether or not they're willing to submit to the Accords?" To himself Foggy added, "Besides I don't think you have any worries about him getting over killing Tony Stark."

Several months later, Leonard Samson was halfway back to the Avenger's Tower when his car's engine suddenly sputtered and died. He pulled over to get out of traffic and a man with an eye-patch and a long leather coat opened the passenger door and slipped inside. A moment later the car's engine was purring again.

"I'm not a good target for a carjacking," Samson said mildly but the steering wheel creaked ominously beneath his hands.

"Just looking for a report on my team," Fury said. "Something big's coming and they'll be needed again."

"I suppose you'll have no trouble arranging their early release from prison," Samson said.

A grin pulled at the corners of Fury's mouth, "You catch on quick Doc."

"And if I remind you of patient confidentiality?" Samson asked.

Fury produced a file and started thumbing through it, "Then I'll rely on your written reports but I'd rather hear it from the source."

Samson shook his head, "You're a piece of work and you can thank Romanov for warning me that you'd pull something like this or I might have felt more threatened. Alright, I'll play along and hope you know how to listen.

"Wanda Maximoff never should have been in a combat situation and she'll never be ready to be your tool. She isn't fit to stand trial but on her good days I can establish a dialogue with her. It gives reason to hope that she may recover.

"The Vision managed to locate digital records from the orphanage she and her brother were placed in after their parents' death. When Wanda arrived she was nearly catatonic, she didn't speak and she only ate or bathed at her brother's urging. After a few years she seemed to pull herself together, began learning English and expressed an interest in traveling the world. Stark Industries keeps an archive of all the hate mail they receive in case anyone ever acts on it. I found over sixty letters Wanda had written to Tony Stark starting when she was twelve and coinciding with her apparent improvements. The first one said 'You killed my Mommy and Daddy. I hate you. I hope someone blows you up.' Over the years her revenge fantasies grew more elaborate and she stopped signing her name but the sentiments she expressed never really changed. The letters she wrote directly after Stark's return from Afghanistan are particularly noteworthy. She speculated gleefully and at length about what might have been done to him while he was held captive, it was clear that she recognized that it was likely that he had been tortured and felt no empathy at all. She and her brother joined HYDRA only weeks after Tony Stark announced that he was Iron Man.

"After her parents' death Wanda pulled herself together for the sole purpose of getting revenge against the person she blamed for their deaths. She took a step forward when she joined the Avengers: She decided that she could stand to live in a world where Tony Stark was breathing, mostly because what she'd seen in his mind convinced her that he was miserable. But being forced to recognize that her desire for his suffering was unjustified threw her back to being that catatonic ten year old who'd just been dug out of the rubble of her home. She's getting better, little by little but she still hasn't truly faced reality. At some point she is going to have to find a whole new reason to get up in the morning and I'm trying very hard to keep it from being vengeance on HYDRA. Don't put her back into a battle situation, Wanda Maximoff should not be making life and death decisions for anyone."

"And she's useless I can convince Vision to return her power."

"Clint Barton is another one I would recommend not returning to combat. Barton has deep seated anger issues, he coped while he was in the field and had an appropriate target to vent his anger on but he was going crazy at home. He was quick to go when Steve Rogers called him because he was terrified that he was going to end up really hurting one of his kids. He's starting to learn better coping mechanisms and it's likely he won't serve even half of the five years he was sentenced to but you put him back in combat and I'm afraid he'll fall into old habits." Samson gave Fury a sidelong glance, "I don't expect you'll listen to me, you don't care about him being able to function as a civilian just about whether or not he can fight."

Fury waited impassively.

Samson sighed. "Scott Lang's sentence is seven years because of his prior conviction. He's doing well with exercises training him to visualize the potential consequences and risks of his actions. He'll probably be paroled not long after Clint Barton, no small thanks to Dr. Pym rebuilding the airport and defusing a lot of the outrage directed at him. A structured system of accountability like the Accords and a stable authority figure would be good for him. You'll be doing him a favor if you give him to Rhodes' Avengers."

"Sam Wilson also received a longer sentence, ten years due to his involvement in Bucharest and Berlin as well as Leipzig. Which is a shame as he's the most stable of the lot. When you spring him, send him back to wherever you place Rogers, because it won't be the Avengers. Ask Rhodes to work with Rogers again?" Samson shook his head, "You just can't do it. Rhodes' team is coming together fine, don't screw it up by trying to throw Rogers into the mix. Put him somewhere else. Anyway, Sam's unlikely to make the same mistake twice, so he'd be a good person to team with Steve Rogers in the future. Rogers will do better if he has someone around who is close enough to him that he doesn't feel attacked if they question his judgement. Of course I'm just assuming that Roger's much longer sentence won't be an obstacle for you."

Fury smirked.

"Of course not," Samson sighed. "You do know soldiers returning from overseas postings get an extended leave to help them readjust to life in the States? Did it ever occur to you that someone who had been yanked out of the middle of World War II and thrust seventy years into the future would need years and professional help to adjust? Steve's friends introduced him to cell phones and the internet, they caught him up on pop culture and social media. They didn't teach him about the Vietnam War, the Cold War or the political situation in the Middle East. I've got him trying to catch up, trying to understand what he's missed. He's only cooperating because his lawyer-friend encourages it, but at this point I'll take what I can get."

"History lessons won't matter given what's coming," Fury said. "Manhattan was a skirmish. This 'Civil War' nonsense? A school yard brawl. What's coming is the real deal. Will Rogers be ready to fight?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"How much you want him back afterwards. Right now if you give him a mission he'll find a way to get it done where he doesn't make it back."

Clint and Natasha sat on opposite sides of the barrier in the prison's visiting room. By habit they'd angled themselves to look in opposite directions as they talked, in their world eye-contact wasn't trust it was giving someone your back.

"How did Laura's visit go?" Natasha asked.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Clint shrug. "She doesn't want out, just anger management classes and that I talk to the shrink about all the stuff before S.H.I.E.L.D., the stuff Phil saved me from."

"They tell you he's alive?" Natasha asked.

"He visits," Clint confirmed. "Easier talking to him than the shrink, even when they say the same shit: Odds are I'll never know for sure how far Wanda's influence extended. I can speculate that maybe she made me less caring around my family, raised her importance in my head at their expense but I'll never really know." Clint shook his head, "My dad wouldn't have cared if I'd put myself at risk but touch something he'd told me not to? I would have been nursing bruises for weeks. Even if she made me worse I've got to address the crap that gave her a way in." He shrugged again. "Got nothing but time for the next five years anyway."

"How about you? What's Rhodes like as a CO?"

"I'm thinking about moving to the ATCU, it's not like a I don't have an in," Natasha replied.

"That bad?" Clint asked.

"Rhodes says we can rebuild trust, it'll just take time." Natasha sighed, "I don't know that there's enough time in the world."

"You'd think he'd have plenty of practice at forgiveness," Clint said sourly.

"Enough."

Clint flinched, "I- It's easy being angry at Tony," he admitted. "Habit. Sometimes I remember when trading insults was fun, but most of the time I just remember the insults. Nothing hurts when I'm angry."

"I told Tony to quit antagonizing you more than once in the beginning," Natasha said thoughtfully.

"And I was happy to have him ignore you," Clint replied. "After what Loki did to me, the Chitauri weren't enough of a fight. All of you were treating me like glass and I felt more like napalm, like given half a chance I'd burn everything to the ground. I didn't go home for months after the invasion and if I wasn't sparring with you I was trading insults with Tony. Never told either of you thanks."

"You knew you couldn't hurt me physically," Natasha said slowly.

"And given what got printed about Tony in the papers every other day I figured he'd already heard anything I might say," Clint admitted. "I when I try I remember that I burned off the anger after a couple months then I went home. When I came back we still insulted each other but it was just how we interacted. I was better friends with Tony than I was with Cap."

"The two of you would join forces to scandalize him," Natasha recalled and a small grin crossed Clint's face in response.

"So you're really thinking about leaving the Avengers?" he asked.

"Even after ten months Rhodes and I can't look at each other without remembering that I played a big role in the loss of his best friend and his legs," Natasha said. "I live in the compound along with Danvers and Shostakov, Vision and Rhodes live in the Tower. Rhodes see Tony's daughter almost every day, I don't think he'll ever forgive me for her dad not being there. Fury shouldn't have sent me to evaluate Tony."

"Yeah, you never like anything about the guys you were ordered to get close to," Clint recalled. "'Course most of them were absolute scum-bags."

Natasha shrugged, "Too many years as an assassin. If I wasn't there to kill them I was there to kill someone close to them. It was easier if I only saw what was bad about them. You're not the only one talking to someone. That's been my exercise: To go back and rewrite that report, just to know in my own mind what I really thought of Tony. Then to see if I can find facts to support my opinions. I had to admit, whatever Wanda might have done, I was always hypercritical of Tony."

Clint waited.

She sighed, "Next step is deciding if I even want to undermine the mindset that lets me spend a night flirting with a guy and then turn around and kill him without missing a beat. If I go back to undercover I might need it. That's the other reason I'm thinking about leaving the Avengers, I'm good at what I do but it's not what the team needs."

More than a year later, Scott sat down on a bench beside Sam Wilson, "You're not missing Clint already? He just got paroled this morning."

Sam blinked, "Of course not, I'm happy for him. He said Laura was picking him up. Two years is a long time to be away from your family."

Scott flinched and Sam immediately looked remorseful. "How is Cassie?" he asked.

"Maggie and Hope both tell me she's doing great," Scott said wistfully. "She's ten now. 'Cept for a couple of months I haven't been a regular part of her life since was she was four. I'll be lucky if she even remembers me anymore."

"I'm sure you'll get out of here in no time," Sam assured him. "You said Doc Samson was happy with your progress on those exercises he gave you. People are settling down about the Accords, the sheer number of amendments being pushed through makes it hard to argue that there wasn't something wrong with the version we refused to sign."

"Even while it highlights that we went about opposing them in totally the wrong way?" Scott asked sarcastically.

Sam winced.

"Well, I mean, being under the government's thumb. That's got to be a pain," Scott rambled nervously. "But, you know, Hope and everyone else has put so much work into shaping 'em up right. The version that exists now isn't half bad. If Hank's willing to give me the suit back when I get out of here I'll sign. I mean it'd be an insult to Hope not to."

Several minutes passed in silence.

"I hate seeing the kids cycle through here," Sam said, "in jail for something they've got no control over. Makes me think that we were right to refuse the Accords. But I have to give it to Rhodes and his team, they get things sorted fast. No one gets left here for more than a few days if it was just power on-set issues."

"They go up to that school where your compound used to be," Scott said.

Sam nodded. "At first I tried to tell myself it was some sort of con, just a juvie prison hiding under a nice name. But everything I can find on the place says almost all of the kids are in and out in a couple of months. They get to the point where they're powers aren't a danger to anyone and then they go home."

"I hear from Hope that all the Avengers take turns doing home visits before they send them back, make sure the family and the neighborhood aren't freaked out first," Scott commented. "Then if the kids want to be Avengers they can come back and train for that once they're eighteen."

Sam looked tired. "I keep wanting to believe we were right. It makes me feel better about being here if I can tell myself we're being persecuted by the government but I can't support it."

"Maybe it's time to stop trying?" Scott asked.

"I worry about Steve," Sam admitted. "What's going to happen to him when he's the only one left here?"

Steve sat in a corner of his cell, a notepad propped up against his knees, sketching idly while he tried to put his thoughts in order.

Scott had been paroled just a week ago and there was a new person in the wing, a former ATCU agent, Frank Payne, who'd been enhanced to go undercover with some snake-themed group and who'd ended up going native. 'Seems almost strange to think about talking with someone new after three years here.' But the important thing was Scott and Clint were gone, back to their families where they belonged. 'Finally free of the mess I dragged them into,' Steve thought. 'Just Sam to go.'

Of course they'd started letting him call Bucky every other week recently. Samson and the Wakandan doctors had insisted that the two of them, having the same initial frame of reference, could help each other sort out the present world. Bucky stood a good chance of being released from custody before Sam. The Wakandan penitentiary system was less about time served than about accomplishing set goals that demonstrated a readiness to return to society, no matter how short or long that might take.

'As great as it is hearing Bucky's voice again, it's kinda scary how little we agree on about the last seventy years.' Foggy had said it was because Bucky was learning about recent history from a Wakandan perspective, it didn't really ease the feeling of losing Bucky all over again. Understanding why didn't change that he and Bucky didn't come from the same place anymore. Talking to Bucky regularly, Steve had been forced to realize that he hadn't been safely frozen while time passed them by.

The ice had been a simple gap for Steve, no memories, not even dreams. The Valkyrie had gone down, the shock of the icy water had knocked him unconscious almost immediately and he'd woken up in different world. Stevie from Brooklyn hadn't changed but the Brooklyn he'd known was long gone. For Bucky the intervening years had been a nightmare, but not one he could just awaken from. Bucky's memories of the time between were real, he hadn't had control but he'd been aware when HYDRA had activated him. Steve had been frozen in a moment of time, Bucky had changed. More than the arm or the too long hair, the person inside had changed and was continuing to change and grow further and further away from where they'd been.

Back before the war, Bucky hadn't always agreed with him but they came from the same place, they shared the same foundation. Now that he was getting to know the person Bucky had become Steve was discovering that the Winter Soldier and years he'd missed out on had left Bucky nearly as alien to him as Tony had always been. The things they disagreed on seemed increasingly fundamental and unresolvable. They quarreled constantly and Steve had to wonder how his and Bucky talking was supposed to help when they could never agree. It was easy to think Samson was just full it, but Foggy kept telling him it wasn't a bad thing to disagree as long as he and Bucky could keep it civil and being on different sides of the planet meant the most uncivil it could get was one of them hanging up on the other. Deep down, Steve couldn't find it in himself to believe that anything would ever help.

While he was thinking Steve had drawn a hand stretching into the paper, futilely thrown up to block the descending shield. Steve's own features in the sketch were little more than a few rough lines, twisted by anger into something monstrous. He look sadly at the drawing, 'Nothing was ever going to get better.'

Earlier, Elsewhere

"He's my friend," Steve declared, pinning him to the ground. Filthy water, tasting of oil and blood, rose up around them and still Steve wouldn't let him up.

The water water closed over his head. He plucked futility at Steve's hands. Stared pleadingly up at him through the murky water. His chest burned, he ached for breath, longed to beg Steve to let him up. He needed to breath! Hadn't they been friends too? Was just a breath too much to ask for?

Finally he couldn't keep it back any longer. He screamed and water rushed into to his lungs stealing the sound before anyone could hear.

Burning, gagging. Slim, cool hands helping him to roll on his side before he could drown again in his own vomit. "It will soon pass." Guilt, fear. Pepper shouldn't have to deal with the fallout from Iron Man, she couldn't, she'd leave. "S- so- sorr-" Exhaustion pulling him under.

A brief, bewildering glimpse of long strawberry hair shifting to black. "Not helping?"

Empty armor, fueled by night-terrors, stalked toward the disabled car. He couldn't control it, couldn't control the fears driving it. It reached through the window and wrapped its cold metal hand around his mother's neck.

'I am Iron Man.' He clawed at his chest trying to tear his heart out, pull the plug on the armor before it could complete its murderous intent. His chest burned with agony as the metal shrapnel pierced his heart but the pain was nothing next to the relief as the armor slumped, it's grip loosening.

Then the armor turned toward him. The face-plate flipped up to reveal Ultron's fixed, lunatic grin. "No strings on me," the evil AI sang as he crushed Maria Stark's throat. As she died darkness closed in on him.

Drifting, unreality, weakness so pervasive he couldn't even open his eyes. "Your strength will return, once you've purged yourself of death." Hurt. Why? Iron Man, Avengers? He'd retired. "Just relax," calm, collected voice, a blurry glimpse of blood-red hair. His tongue felt thick and unwieldy but "Tr- or!" He hoped she could hear the accusation.

Deepening voice, tinged with frustration, "And I thought a female would be more comforting."

Obie hacked at his chest with the dull edge of Captain America's shield. He couldn't move, couldn't raise a hand to defend himself. Ribs shattered under the unrelenting abuse until Obie was finally satisfied with the damage. He tossed the shield aside and reached into his chest cavity to rip out his beating heart.

"What? You thought anyone would ever choose you?" Obie laughed cruelly. "You're such a fool, Tony. Weak and emotional, your father would be ashamed. The only reason anyone tolerates you is for what they get in exchange, haven't you learned that by now?"

The sudden rush of nausea returning. Retching over and over again. Had he swallowed an ocean? Oh god, he'd drowned! "Hold on Sir. You will recover." Voice so painfully familiar but not him, never him, killed him. He can feel tears running down his face.

"You are difficult."

"I feel like you're driving me to my court martial." Only was the Spider-kid sitting next to him not Jimmy. "What can't you talk?"

"We can talk sir." Of course he could talk, the Spider-kid never stopped talking.

'Why was Peter here?' Tony wondered with a growing feeling of panic. 'Peter should be in diapers or something, not in Afghanistan.'

"Oh, so it's personal."

.

"No, you intimidate them." The driver's voice was crisp and familiar. As she turned slightly a tendril of strawberry blonde hair that he loved to play with escaped from beneath the helmet.

Pepper, Pepper, oh God it was Pepper. "Good God, you're a woman." They had to get out. Turn around now! Now! Why was this drunken idiocy spilling from his mouth? He had to tell them about what was coming.

The kid in the front seat turned around, "Could I ask you something?" It was Harley, his tone as he asked about the models was properly mocking rather than impressed. The words weren't his but the message was and it gave Tony hope that if he just tried hard enough he could change the scenario, keep them all from dying.

And he tried and tried, but the words kept coming out wrong: the models, the picture, nothing about the coming attack.

"You didn't do enough," dead-Steve says from a pile of bodies as the shooting starts.

Pepper and Harley are gone in a moment, bullets tearing through their bodies. "Peter! Peter! Stay! You'll die. Stay!" but Peter drew his gun and wents anyway and died in the sand a few feet from the humvee. Tony staggered out, the missile was immaterial. His Pepper, Harley, Peter they're all dead at his feet.

And the world explodes.

He's on the other side of the portal, his chest ripped open, heart exposed. And Rhodey's falling back to earth his suit dead around him. He can't breath, 'Why can't I just die?'

There was someone behind him, a presence so powerful he didn't dare turn to look at her. Her? Slim hands on his shoulders, turning him to face into the void. "I have a task for you, Merchant."

Tony woke screaming. He screamed until his throat was raw and his mouth tasted of iron as he vomited up blood. "Easy Tones, you're almost back now. Take it easy." Rhodey steadied his head until there was nothing left in his stomach. Then he stood up to empty the basin.

Rhodey stood up and a tension Tony hadn't remembered he was carrying melted away. He was completely content just to watch Rhodey walk around the room, tending the fire and occasionally rearranging his blankets.

"Finally, there is someone who calms you." Gradually the fever and nausea receded and he slipped into a true, restful sleep. A green light enveloped him.

When Tony woke again his previous awakenings were less real to him than the fever dreams they interrupted.

He blinked slowly, not really sure what he expected to wake up to: A hospital room. A cold and desolate hallway in an abandoned bunker. Brimstone and sulfurous pits. His eyes gradually focused on an old man with an eye-patch and space-viking armor. That wasn't even on the list of remote possibilities.

"Welcome to Valhalla, Anthony son of Stark," the old man intoned. "Or rather that is what I would say if having an armorsmith of your ability waste his time waiting for the final battle in days of pointless battle and nights of endless feasting was in any way appealing."

Tony's mind raced, hundreds of points of data, memories of Siberia, of dying, fell cleanly into place. He felt a wave of relief, no brain damage, 'Thank God, or Norse gods, whatever, at the moment I don't care.'

"Okay, Dad of Thor," Tony said sitting up carefully. "Ignoring the part where you're a highly advanced alien not a god for a moment, what am I doing in your afterlife anyway? My mom did her best to raise me Catholic not… um… Is it an insult to call your stuff pagan?"

"I care not what you believe, Anthony son of Stark, the fact remains that you are here. You have seen what comes. You know your Avengers will be on the frontline, that Midgard will be the battlefield. Armorsmith, I offer you the chance to use this time to prepare, to build."

"It's real? What I saw?" Tony couldn't help but ask and received a grave nod.

"The mad Titan, Thanos comes, the enemy of life. I will give you knowledge of the golden realm's technology and magic. And you will build weapons so that your Avengers may stand victorious against the Titan."

Caught between his fears and the lure of advanced alien tech Tony forgot his reservations. "When do I start?"

"Right now. Of course I don't expect a mere Midgardian to to grasp our secrets unaided. I have secured a teacher for you." Then he stepped into an anteroom. Once he was out of Tony's view Odin's seeming crumbled and Loki was revealed. He summoned a clone and changed it's appearance to match Odin's. Then both of them returned.

"You!" Tony exclaimed. "But you're dead!"

Loki smiled, "No more dead than you," he said. "What is it you humans say? No rest for the wicked. So while the rest of Odin's chosen while away their days boasting of battles already won you and I shall do the work to find victory in the battle to come."