I was losing my mind. I accidentally deleted my outline.
When I went to rescue it from the Recycle Bin, I had no idea what possessed me again.
I opened the Recycle Bin and, before restoring the file, casually emptied it instead.
Fuck! A person at least... shouldn't be this stupid (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ)`
Coulson finished the last of his juice, set the glass gently on the coffee table, and stood up to straighten his tie. He looked around the living room, his gaze sweeping from the books on magical theory on the solid-wood bookshelf to the little potted plant by the window that had already sprouted new leaves, as though confirming that this young man who had just moved into his new home really was doing quite well. Then he said his goodbyes and headed for the elevator.
"Wait." Lynn rose from the sofa with one hand in his pocket, his tone casual but his words anything but. "I saw the news about that hundred-year-old causing a scene in Times Square a while back."
Coulson stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at Lynn, most of that gentle, agent-like smile fading from his eyes, replaced by scrutiny. "What are you planning this time?"
"Nothing." Lynn shrugged, standing against the arm of the sofa. "Just a reminder. That 'hundred-year-old' is no slouch in a fight, and his label is justice. He shouldn't be kept somewhere so murky. You should suggest that Fury put him somewhere else, somewhere no one knows about, somewhere that can really let him slowly adjust to this era."
He paused, arranging his next words in his head.
"A lot of problems have come up because I appeared ahead of time. These are all variables. Once there are too many variables, no one can control or predict where things will go. I can't be certain how things will develop, but he's still old-fashioned right now, working within a framework from seventy years ago. Don't let anyone use him."
Coulson fell silent for a moment.
"I've been considering that too. But it won't be easy. His placement involves the military, the Department of Homeland Security, and access permissions for some historical records. It isn't something S.H.I.E.L.D. can decide on its own." He lowered his hand, his tone returning to its usual steadiness, though beneath it was an added seriousness Lynn could hear. "But I'll find a way."
Lynn nodded and did not pursue the subject. Coulson glanced at him, a certain complicated emotion mingling in his gaze. He was probably thinking that every time this young man said "just a reminder," the matters behind it could double his workload. But he did not complain, merely turning back toward the elevator. Before the elevator doors closed, he gave a slight nod in farewell.
Toward evening, the sky beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows shifted from warm orange to deep blue, and pinpricks of light began appearing along Manhattan's skyline. Lynn cleared the plates from the coffee table, brewed another pot of tea, and sprawled on the sofa to leaf through the magazine he had not finished earlier. When the elevator doors slid open, Tony's voice arrived before he did.
"...That stubborn Russian!!"
Tony Stark strode into the living room, the sleeves of his casual jacket still rolled up to his elbows and traces of machine oil still clinging to his fingers. His face was full of the indignation of "I argued with someone in the lab all afternoon, and I think I won, but he won't admit it." He dropped onto the sofa, picked up Lynn's freshly brewed cup of tea, and took a gulp, then frowned, probably because there was no sugar in it.
"What did Ivan do to you this time?" Lynn leaned against the arm of the sofa and shook his head with a smile.
"He called my new thruster layout 'all flash,' and said his Arc Reactor paired with simple, brute-force linear propulsion was the optimal solution?! Simple and brute-force! What century is this? He's still using the design approach he had in a Siberian prison!" Tony set the teacup back on the coffee table and made an "enough, let's not talk about him" gesture. "You said you had a surprise today. What surprise? It had better not be another video of me crashing."
"I lured Professor Banner back for you. He's in the guest bedroom right now, probably still reading." Lynn tilted his head toward the hallway.
Tony's expression instantly switched from indignation to delight, then from delight back to Stark-style feigned composure. "You brought him back from Kamar-Taj? His condition now..."
"He's already reached a balance with baby Hulk. He won't transform just because he gets a little worked up, but he still can't control it completely at will. His mindset is more than a notch better than before. Relax, he won't suddenly turn green." Lynn stood up from the sofa and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking at the skyline outside, which had gone completely dark. "Think about where to put him. He can keep staying here, too. There are spare rooms anyway. Work, salary, and all that have nothing to do with me. You're his boss."
"He's going to the lab, of course. I had Pepper finish renovating that vacant chief's office in the high-energy physics department downstairs ages ago, and I've equipped it with two sets of experimental equipment tailored to his research! Anti-gamma pulses and targeted neutralization with nanomagnets. I figured he might want to try both." Tony had already sprung up from the sofa, looking as though he would charge down the hallway and knock on Banner's door the next second.
"Wait. There's something else." Lynn raised a hand to stop him. "That disaster I told you about before-it's now certain we can't stop it. I've done everything I can, and Coulson is investigating what he can, but in the end, Fury most likely still won't stop the research. We need to prepare in advance."
Tony stopped. He turned to look at Lynn, the excitement slowly fading from his face, replaced by the calm he wore when facing a critical technical problem in the lab. "Tell me. Prepare what?"
"Once Banner is settled in, have him first build a locating device that can pick up gamma rays and spatial energy radiation. Before the portal opens, the Tesseract is bound to produce energy fluctuations. As long as we can pick up that distinctive gamma-ray spectrum and spatial radiation curve... they're bound to be different from any known natural source on Earth. If we can detect the signal early, it'll at least give us time to react. If we can't stop it, we should minimize the casualties as much as possible."
Tony did not answer immediately. He stood beside the coffee table, looking out at New York's nightscape beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. A moment later, he turned back. "I've been thinking about that too. We can't confirm whether your early involvement changed the course of the future, but preparing ahead never hurts. It only costs some time and money. If there's one thing I, Stark, have no shortage of, it's money." He raised a hand and pointed toward the ceiling. "JARVIS, compile the technical requirements for the locating device Lynn just described into a file, mark it high priority, and sync it to the main control system in the high-energy physics lab downstairs."
"Recorded, sir. Label: gamma-ray and spatial energy radiation fluctuation detection device. Synced to the laboratory's main console." JARVIS's voice sounded steadily.
Tony pushed his already rolled-up sleeves a little higher and strode toward the hallway, his leather shoes striking the wooden floor with quick, crisp footsteps. As he passed the door to Banner's guest bedroom, he paused. He wiped away the irritability and impatience he wore when facing Ivan Vanko and replaced them with the look of appreciation that only appeared when one genius met another. Then he raised his hand, knocked, and pushed the door open.
"Dr. Banner! Long time no see! How was your stay at Kamar-Taj? Never mind, that's not important. You're finally here at my place. Let me tell you, I've prepared two whole sets of experimental equipment for you..." The door closed. Tony's voice was shut behind it, leaving only indistinct, rapid-fire, information-dense conversation, occasionally interspersed with Banner's gentle, low replies. Lynn leaned beside the floor-to-ceiling windows and lifted his cup of tea, from which Tony had already taken a gulp, gazing out at New York's nightscape. On the Hudson River, the lights of barges moved slowly through the night.