this is going to be EPIC!
Synopsis:
The catchup: Clint and Loki were in a hot final battle where Clint, wielding Mjolnir for the fallen Thor was near the point of killing Loki once and for all. Until Natasha shot him in the head (accident). After being transported to Asgard by Fandral who had seen Clint's strength, Clint was mended by Frigga and presented to Odin. For his bravery, Clint was given a Gift of Allfather, a golden Asgardian bow to replace the one destroyed by Loki and he was officially admitted to the high court as a warrior of the realm. But how did Loki ever get out in the first place? HMMMMMM...
Current Events: Asgard lays besieged in the wake of a Frost Giant invasion not even Heimdal saw coming. With the capital's walls sealed from within and Loki moved to the underground for safe keeping, it is up to Clint to find Fandral, uncover the confederates helping to ferry the Frost Giants into the Asgardian lands, and somehow stop Loki's underlings from bringing about the fall of the realms. But how is a human going to make any difference in the land of Asgard. Clint must test his worth, find his own band along the way, and save the universe.
Who's in it: Everyone! Even though this is focusing mainly on the events of Asgard and an OC or two, this is an absolute ride! We begin the first few chapters on Earth before the switch over to Asgard and this time, Tony is not letting Clint have all the fun. Even if he has to risk materializing in empty space . . . again . . . Tony is getting the Avengers to Asgard, one way or another.
The Return To Asgard
Prologue
A voice called out to him in the din of the moonless night. His eyes turned up as he watched the stars fall soundlessly from the sky and strike against the distant horizon. Each one set off a concussion which threw him back into the wall of jagged rock. He turned. His eyes were desperate for some way of escape even as the stars fell closer. They littered the horizon, crashing and burning with force that shook him to the bones. A voice continued to call, whispering subtly in his ear but always just distant enough for him to miss it.
A pain filled his gut. His blood pushed as slow as dough through constricted veins. He longed to find the words to cry out.
The stars were electrifying now. Exploding so close he could hardly stand to watch. But the world was shifting. Crushing him into the wall of rock as the closest of the stars began to alter on the horizon. With the form like a man, the frozen rock unfurled. Blood red eyes, eyes like Loki, sealed upon him and the pulling of his gut became unbearable. He looked down. The ooze of his thick blood was his only warmth. The realm had gone cold. Asgard was beginning to freeze.
He raised his head to the heavens. His breath jammed in his chest as the first wave of red-eyed giants came crashing down around him.
"Thor." The warrior whispered. "Thor."
:(:):
Clint Barton didn't often dream. Two years since joining the Avengers. Two years since that fateful day where he had been stolen from his own body and murdered the only people in his life that cared about him. Two years since the strange group of strangers became the only family Clint would ever really know. Banner, the doctor and psychiatrist to everyone. Tony, the crazy brother. Pepper, the guarding mother. Steve, the demanding father. Thor, the distant cousin. And Natasha, the lover.
Two years, and finally those dreams and nightmares that plagued him since birth drifted away. There was nothing at night. Nothing but him, his bed (if he was that lucky) and the possibility of waking up in the morning. What more did a guy need? He thought his life was complete. Or at least good enough. He couldn't ask for anything better than what he had.
When the dreams came back it took him by surprise. They crept up on him one night after what could have been considered a perfectly normal day.
Stark had moved the team to Miami. Recent events around the city had them set up in a little bungalow by the beach. Typical Stark style called for buying up three houses right on the water for an obscene fortune then selling them for three times there worth when the mission was over. Careful marketing would return his pretty penny in spades. The Avengers were still all the rage as far as celebrities were concerned. The whole world would want a shot at stepping into a place once occupied by the heroes.
A combination of Pepper and SHIELD convinced him out of it. Apparently this mission called for a talent Tony was not well equipped for. Secrecy. Advertising the Avengers were in the neighborhood wasn't exactly conducive to that.
The alternative path took them to the basic hotel accommodations along the Miami coastline. High rise building, a thousand little hovels all with the same basic make and model. Everyone was staying under assumed names and guises. Even Stark had somehow found a way to hide his famous face beneath a ten dollar beard, bowler hat, and hobo costume he found at a Halloween store. Guest relations wouldn't ask why anyone dressed like that could afford an ocean view. This was Miami after all, oddities were almost as common here as the red carpet at the Grammy's.
Clint shared a small two bedroom facing the not-to-distant ocean with Banner and Natasha. The part-time Hulk slept like a rock on most occasions when he'd had a full day of being green and mean. Otherwise he was a relative light sleeper and easily disturbed by anything Nat and Clint would decide to do in the bed right beside him. To his benefit, that wasn't much. The assassins tended to keep their late night romps to a minimum with company around. It was simple common courtesy.
Banner wasn't even in bed when Clint stumbled into the shared room and one by one pulled his shoes off with his feet. His shirt hit the floor beside his shoes. His quiver rested by the door.
"Rough day?" Bruce asked, flicking through pages of what Clint recognized as a science magazine.
Clint grunted. He pulled off his belt and let that drop into his pile. He crawled into bed, yanked half of the covers over his head, and was asleep in moments.
Bruce pulled off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. "Clint?"
The mass in the bed snored.
Bruce sighed. He rubbed his eyes and checked the red digital clock blinking on the desk. It was hardly ten at night. Clint and Natasha had been out doing recon for the past two days. Obviously Clint hadn't managed to fit any catnaps in during that time. Out of habit more than concern, Bruce stood and picked up Clint's discarded clothes. Keeping tidy was the least of his worries. Looking for blood, bullet holes, or burn marks was his typical task. This time around he found none.
Not a bad day then.
Bruce set the clothes off to the side and went to head out, maybe catch up with Natasha or Tony but the body launching out of the bed stopped him. Clint was awake again, a partial scream on his lips. His hand was against his chest. Even Banner could feel the distress radiating from him.
Bruce was swiftly to his side. "Hey, are you ok?"
Clint took a minute to look around, as if attempting to remember where he was. He scrubbed his face with his hand, eyes wide and wild like an animal trapped in a cage. "What the Hell . . ?"
"Clint?"
Barton rolled over to look up at Banner. "What just happened?"
"Well, you walked in the door. Then you shed your clothes. Then you climbed in bed and went to sleep for about three seconds."
Clint shook his head, itching his hand through his hairline. "Wow, that was weird."
"You all right?"
Clint nodded. "Yeah, ok, I think so."
He eased himself down, pulling the stiff hotel blankets back up to his face.
Bruce watched him for a few minutes, as if waiting for him to spring to life again. When it seemed safe enough to go Bruce headed back for the door, temporarily avoiding the sleepless night soon to plague him.
Ok, so i will confess, i'm net even done writing this story yet! but i'm just sooooooo excited i had to start putting up what i do have. and please love the cover, i work hard on it:)
