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" You're just in time for the main event "
The room was filled with thick, high tension. Testosterone oozed from the males, their dominance and hostility towards each other at the moment evident.
The team gathered in the front room of the HQ, Steve is sitting calmly, wordlessly studying the Accords while Sam and Rhodey bickered, both their views different for understandable reasons.
"Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have." Spits James Rhodes.
"So let's say we agree to this thing." Starts Sam, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?"
"A 117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you're just like, "No, that's cool. We got it." James replies.
"How long are you going to play both sides?" Sam growls out, his eyes narrowed in accusation.
"I have an equation." Visions butts in.
"Oh this will clear things up." Sam adds sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate-" Vision starts to explain, "same thing goes for Rowan. Ever since she's come to be known as Imperium-Mr. Stark's teenage daughter with telekinesis."
"Are you saying it's our fault?... and Rowan's?" Steve questions softly.
"I'm saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe. Oversight... Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand." Vision replies.
"Boom!" James exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air dramatically.
Throughout this whole dispute, Tony remained silent, lying on the couch with his hand over his face; quite an usual sight coming from the man with an argument for everything. Natasha notices this, causing her to speak up, "Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal."
"t's because he's already made up his mind-" Steve accuses, "for Rowan too."
"Boy, you know me so well." Tony grumbles, rising up from his spot on the couch with a grimace, nursing the back of his head, "Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache. Also, Cap, leave my daughter out of this. You too, Vision. Rowan has nothing to do with any of this; so leave her the fuck out of it."
With a dirty glare towards the two men and a sheepish apology from Vision, Tony heads to the kitchen and retrieves a Sesame Street mug, courtesy of a very fussy five-year-old Rowan, before adding more to his statement, "That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort. Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?"
Tony then places his phone in a basket, tapping it until an image projects onto the screen. The man looks down, then back up, pretending to have seen the image for the first time. "Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to 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 housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia."
Steve breaths out a sigh, his ocean-like eyes trained down with sorrow.
"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass." Tony plops a pill in his mouth, washes it down with his coffee, then turns to face the group, "There's no decision-making process here. 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, someone dies on your watch, you don't give up." The blond answers.
"Who said we're giving up?" A feminine voice from the hallway catches the attention of the argumentative members, their heads snapping in the direction of their eavesdropper. Rowan, who had been standing there for quite a while, finally decided to make her presence known. She walks in the room, arms folded over her chest and her features hardened.
"Well if it isn't my dear daughter. Came to join the show? You're just in time for the main event." Tony clasps his hands together, throwing his head back.
Steve stares up at her, his eyes soft, "We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blames."
"I'm sorry. Steve. That - that is dangerously arrogant." Rhodey starts, "This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not SHIELD, it's not HYDRA."
"No, but it's run by people with agendas, and agendas change." He fires back.
"That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing." Tony replies eagerly.
"Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this 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? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own." Steve explains gruffly.
"I'm afraid it's not up to you, Steve-" Rowan intervenes, "If we don't do this now, 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... and you Rowan." Wanda says nervously, her eyes shifting cautiously.
"We would protect you both." Vision reassures with a tentative nod.
"Maybe Tony's right." Natasha speaks up, surprising the Starks, "If we have 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?" Questions Sam with a raised brow.
"I'm just... I'm reading the terrain. We have made... some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back." The Black Widow murmurs, looking rather shy.
"Focus up. I'm sorry, did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?" Tony raises a brow, a satisfied smirk on his face.
Natasha rolls her eyes, "Oh, I want to take it back now."
"No, no, no. You can't retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case closed - I win."
Steve, who had been defeated by the trio of Tony, Natasha and Rowan, suddenly checks his phone, his face growing grim at the sight of the message he received. Rowan watches on carefully, noticing that her best friend had abruptly stood from his place, muttering a quick 'I have to go' before rushing out of the main room. The brunette was quick to follow her obviously distressed friend down the stairs, stopping as he did at the bottom. Despite their little disagreement in the other room, she knew something was up with Steve; another gift along with the telekinesis, and she'd be there for him as he would for her. No matter how much they'd bicker or scold or overprotect, in the end, it would always be Rowan and Steve.
"What is it?" Rowan asks quietly.
"See for yourself." Steve replies, his voice strained.
He tosses her his unlocked phone, the message 'she's gone. In her sleep' in bold letters across the screen. Rowan curses, knowing the person who was there for him during his time of need-way back before she was born, had just passed on. It would be a hard blow for Steve but with the support of Rowan and the team, he'd get through this. He was strong.
"The funeral's in three days. I want you and whoever wants to go, to go." Steve snatches his phone before heading upstairs, leaving a heavy-hearted Rowan to herself.
