𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃 ᵂᵃⁿᵈᵃ ᴹᵃˣⁱᵐᵒᶠᶠ ³

¹⁴. ᵀʰᵉ ᴸⁱⁿᵉ ᴵⁿ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵃⁿᵈ

"Boom," Rhodey muttered, looking at Sam.

From beside Carter, Nova sat up. "But wouldn't you say that those respective governments were willing to kill more than save?" She asked, glancing at Vision. "Tony and I dealt with a nuke that was being sent straight to the center of New York. But they want to cuff us and order us around like dogs?"

"Nova, you know that was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s orders," Rhodey dismissed.

"Fun fact: S.H.I.E.L.D. worked for the United Nations. They worked beneath and answered to the President," Nova spat, a plastic smile curving across her lips. "And although I hate my father for a lot of things, it wasn't his fucking choice to send that nuke at New York."

Sam laughed. "Boom!" He exclaimed, smirking at Rhodey.

"Tony," Natasha spoke up, looking at the man who hadn't seemed at all interested in the bickering. "You are being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal."

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

Tony sighed. "Boy, you know me so well." He sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache. That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort."

Rinsing out a cup, Tony groaned. "Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal?" He questioned. "Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?"

His jokes didn't seem to reach the team as they all stared at him, aware that he had yet to state his reasoning, and it seemed he took notice. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a holographic pad, leaning it against the basket of fruits, and projected an image of a man.

"Oh, that's Charles Spenser, 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," he explained, pouring himself a coffee. "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."

He continued. "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. Carter felt his throat close up as his head lulled back, jaw clenching with Nova's hand falling on his shoulder. "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 ran a hand over his goatee and took a sip of his coffee. Allowing his words to sink into the group. "There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game," He told them. "If we can't accept limitations, if we're bounder-less, we're no better than the bad guys."

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

"Who says we're giving up?" Tony asked.

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

"I'm sorry, Steve. That is dangerously arrogant," Rhodey spoke up. "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 change."

"That's good. That's why I'm here," Tony announced. "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," Steve emphasized. "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's somewhere we need to go and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own."