Disclaimer: I own none of this.
A/N: I seriously marathoned Marvel last night. This is the result. I know nothing about the comic book world, I just watch the movies and read fanfiction. Enjoy.
Tony stood on the roof of Stark Tower, staring at the landing platform he'd installed. Beyond it, he could see the lights of the city that had always been his home, no matter how far he'd run, or how hard he'd try to pretend it wasn't. His childhood here had put New York City in his very bones. Something was coming, and he could only hope when it was over, his city would still be standing.
Thor stood at the edge of the Bifrost, staring down out into the world beyond. Heimdall stood behind him, silent. Whatever drove Thor to stand here, whatever kept him from rest or merriment, Heimdall had not seen it yet. It was an old feeling for Thor, one he could hardly believe he would still feel. Something was coming, and Thor could only hope it wasn't about his brother.
Bruce Banner drifted through Thailand, ignoring the homesickness that had been plaguing him for days. He wanted to go home, to see Betty, to eat a good old fashion cheeseburger without worrying if the meat was actually beef. He paused to move out of the way of a group of ladies, and it hit him, almost like a flash of his Hulk battles, but different. Something was coming, and the Hulk would need to be prepared for battle.
Natasha flipped through the files she'd been given to study, reading it all, taking it in, but not paying as as much attention as she should. Her mind kept thinking back to the events of the past three years, the number of super-powered villains that now decorated their landscape. Not to mention the ones they called the heroes; Iron Man, the Hulk, Thor, Captain America. She closed the final file, something was coming, and she only hoped she could kill it with her guns.
Clint aimed at the targed, letting his everyday thoughts fall away. He released and drew his bow again, carefully placing each arrow. It was easy to just shoot a bullseye, or to make a simple letter, and Clint liked a challenge. People were a challenge. He shot his last arrow and studied the image for a long moment. He wasn't an artist. He walked over to free his arrows, because something was coming and he was going to need all of them.
Coulson regarded the paperwork he'd just finished. It was all reports; field reports, expense reports, science reports, incident reports. Like any other government agency, SHIELD ran on paperwork. Something was coming, and Coulson shuddered to think what kind of paperwork he'd have to fill out in the aftermath.
Fury stared at monitors replaying video footage. Iron Man fought Whiplash at the race. Hulk fought the Abomination. Thor and that giant iron robot in New Mexico. Clint on a sniper mission. Natasha in the Hammer Industries facility. Captain America training in SHEILD's basement. He looked down at the files on his desk. Something was coming, and he could only hope they'd chosen the right people.
Steve watched as yet another sandbag hit the floor. He was trying not to break them, but he forgot. He forgot he was strong, he forgot they were fragile, he forgot that he was just training. In the War, he'd never bothered to really train, although he'd shown off for the Commandos a few times. Bucky had goaded him into those, though. Steve sighed and turned away, it would take a day for them to get a new bag installed. Clint said they'd ordered a hundred of them, just for him. He wasn't sure if the man was pulling his leg, but either way, he knew. Something was coming, and he wasn't going to be just destroying sandbags for long.