If They Knew All About You

Hate Is Easy, Love Is Harder

Tony's arms hurt. The fingers of his right hand kept cramping. It was just a reminder of how much time he had recently spent behind a keyboard or studying documents that his body was not accustomed to the strain of a long session of active workshop tinkering. Still, there was something so grounding about this kind of work that he almost relished in the small spikes of pain as the fingers of his right hand cramped again.

Those damn shooters. The web fluid had clogged them up completely. He had never removed the still half-filled vials when he had stuffed the kid's suit into one of the wall panels the previous week. How had it only been a week? It felt more like a month since he had made Peter Parker take off that suit. Since he had banished him from the Tower.

Tony huffed out a low breath. He'd been a fool.

His talk with Natasha had been a brief one. She had filled him in on everything they knew about Barnes, which wasn't much other than that the NYPD had moved the soldier from the hospital into one of the basement cells of the police's headquarter.

Tony had his back to his workbench, his elbows braced against the surface. "Is there any line of communication set up?"

"We have Clint's two contacts but can only use them sparingly. We'll try to get word to Cap about the trial." Natasha stood directly opposite him, her arms crossed in front of her. The scowl on her face hadn't lifted ever since she had reentered the lab.

His neck was killing him. One of his hands rubbed roughly against the tightly wound muscles, trying to ease the strain. Maybe he should sleep. Not for long. An hour, maybe two. That should be enough.

He tried to concentrate on the issues at hand instead. "Any intel on what they'll do with Rogers?"

"No."

"If Ross wanted to send him to the Raft wouldn't he have done so by now?"

"Maybe." Natasha didn't move, her stance stoic. "It's not Germany. Maybe this was too public for them to have him simply disappear. It's still Steve. People still love him."

"Right," Tony huffed.

"Those who don't want him to pay for his indiscretions. Publicly."

She wasn't wrong. There was very little middle ground when it came to Captain America. People adored him. Or they didn't. Tony shook his head, unwilling to figure out where he'd find himself on that considerably small spectrum.

They only had a limited amount of topics to discuss, which was part of the problem. He was no closer to solving this shit than he had been before the Rogues had reappeared. He sent Natasha back to her floor for some rest before she would meet up with Clint at the Compound while he vowed to continue his work on a solution to their problems with Ross. And Clarke.

Even with Barnes' trial looming and the deadline for finding anything to bring Ross down getting closer and closer, Clarke was still a top priority. A threat they would need to tackle fast. Best-case would be taking both men out at once but so far Tony didn't have anything that would stick on either of them.

He had gone through his notes. He had gone through everything he had collected on Ross. It wasn't even that he didn't have receipts of Ross' misdeeds, they were simply unusable. Bribes, intimidation, promotions and careers ruined when people had crossed him. Lives in ruins of those who had not done as he had ordered. It was all right there, but Ross had been too good, had always placed someone else in the line of fire to protect himself. It was a clear pattern but to unseat the Secretary of State, Tony needed more. To put him behind bars, he would need a miracle, a mistake, something.