(𝟮.𝟭) 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘 ➣ {𝕤•𝕨} ❘ [𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖘 - 𝖊𝖌 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗]

⁵⁰ 𝙍𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚𝙧

"Secretory Ross had a Congressional Medal of Honour, which is one more than you have," Rhodey argued with Sam in the back. Y/N sat on the couch beside Tony, who had his hand sprawled over his face in an exasperated way.

"So let's say we agree to this thing," said Sam, "How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?"

"117 countries wanna sign this. 117, Sam. And you're just like, 'No, that's cool. We got this.'"

"How long are you gonna play both sides?"

"I have an equation," Vision interrupted from Wanda's side on the other couch.

"Oh, this will clear it up," Sam folded his arms.

"In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Ironman," said Vision, "the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially." Steve looked up from the Accords and Y/N crossed her legs one over the other. "During the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate."

"Are you saying this is our fault?" asked Steve, holding a page in his hand.

"I'm saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict," he paused, "Breeds catastrophe. Oversight. Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand."

"Boom," said Rhodey, and Sam turned to him with a look.

"Tony," said Nat, "You're being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal."

"It's because he's already made up his mind," Steve concluded.

"Boy you know me so well," Tony said getting off of the couch, "Actually I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache. That's what's going on Cap. It's just pain," he walked to the kitchen and all eyes followed him, "It's discomfort— Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?" He pulled out a screen and placed it on the kitchen counter with a sigh. "Oh, that's Charles Spencer by the way," he said sarcastically, "He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree. 3.6 GPA. Had a floor-level gig planned for an Intel for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles to his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't wanna go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable house holding for the poor. Guess where? Sokovia." Tony finished in one breath. Thick tension filled the room and nobody said a word.

"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose," Tony shrugged, "We won't know because we dropped a building on him when we were kicking ass." Y/N gritted her teeth together and rubbed her temples in frustration. "There's no decision-making process here," Tony walked towards where the rest were seated, "We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys."

"Tony," Steve spoke up, "If someone dies on your watch, you don't give up."

"Who said we're giving up?"

"We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame."

"I'm sorry, Steve," said Rhodey, "That is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not S.H.I.E.L.D, it's not HYDRA."

"No, but it's run by people with agendas and agendas can change."

"That's good," Tony walked towards Steve, "That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing."

"Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose."

"What if panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go?"

"What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us?" Steve pointed out, "We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own."

"If we don't do this now," Tony persisted, "It's gonna be done to us later. That's the fact. That won't be pretty."

"You're saying they'll come for me," said Wanda.

"We would protect you," Vision assured, making her turn to him.

"Maybe Tony is right," said Nat, "If we had one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off—"

"Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?" Sam pointed out.

"I'm just reading the terrain. We've made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back."

"Yeah," Y/N looked around at everyone, "Tony has a point. We have to make it up in some way— What?" she frowned as the men in the room (other than Vision) gave her amused looks, "Just because I'm going out with Tweety here," she waved a hand pointedly at Sam who rolled his eyes at the nickname, "Does it mean I can't have my own opinion?"

"Focus up, I'm sorry," Tony shook his head, "Did I just mishear, or did both the stubborn Russian assassins agree with me? "

"I want to take back now," Nat shook her head with a look.

"Don't make me regret it," Y/N raised her eyebrows to emphasize.

"No, no, no, you can't retract it. Thank you, unprecedented. Okay, case closed. I win."

"I have to go," said Steve, looking down at his phone and left the room without another word.

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"Given my record," Y/N explained, "Which is mostly against the government, I need to agree to this." She was discussing, well, more like arguing, with Sam in their shared room as he packed to leave for London the next day with Steve for Peggy's funeral.

"Y/N," Sam closed his suitcase and was careful not to raise his voice, "'Given your record'," he quoted her, "What makes you think that they won't switch up as soon as you sign and treat you like a criminal?"

Ignoring this valid point, she let out a deep sigh, "Washington, the whole HYDRA issue, AIDA; Who do you think the government is blaming? Captain America? You? No. The bloody Russian assassin," she pointed to herself, "Just because I became Avenger, doesn't mean they'll let me out. I let AIDA slip away. I created her, I was careless, and the blame is on me," she removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose with the other hand with closed eyes. "I've got red on my ledger and I'd like to wipe it out," she added under her breath, loud enough for him to hear.

Seeing her vulnerable state, Sam spoke no more; with a sigh, he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her into his chest for a hug, "I need to sign the Accords," Y/N mumbled against his shirt when he kissed the top of her head in comfort, "I need to make up for my mistakes. There's this constant guilt that keeps me up almost every night. Sometimes, I can't sleep. This is my chance in redemption, Sam."

"And if you do," he said tenderly, pulling back from the hug and pressed a finger under her chin to tilt her face up and meet his eyes,  "Would you be able to rest?"

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