Author's Notes: This just came from a discussion I was having with my roommate last night. It's a bit of an odd concept, but I couldn't get it out of my mind, so here it is. I don't own anything to do with the Avengers or Marvel, and I don't own QaF.
Sometimes people forget that the Battle of New York and the unveiling of the Avengers affected more people than just New Yorkers. News companies from all over the United States, from all over the world, had swarmed Manhattan in the hours of the attack and in the days afterward, and were buying footage of the alien invasion off of civilians who'd been using camera phones or iPods to catch the action. The coverage was wild and far reaching, and live streams of the battle were broadcast all over America.
When Michael had turned on the television that day he'd stared, wide eyed and slack jawed, as events straight from one of the many comic books he'd memorized unfolded on screen, and squealed when he saw Captain America leap over a car and slam this signature shield into a weirdo alien's face. He'd shouted up the stairs at Ben, "Are you seeing this?" and when his husband came down to see what the excitement was about, toothbrush hanging haphazardly out of his mouth and foam threatening to spill past his lips Michael reiterated, "Seriously, are you seeing this?"
Ben went into the main floor bathroom and spit and rinsed before rejoining the smaller man in the living room, standing in front of the television and watching with something akin to shock. "It's real," Michael whispered mostly to himself, "superheroes and super human powers and alien invasions and the whole nine yards. It's all real. That's Captain America! Are you seeing this?! I have all this trading cards, all the comic books, and I'm watching Captain America kick alien ass on TV for real. Is this reality? Am I awake? Pinch me." He didn't give his husband the chance though, as he was suddenly scrambling for his phone. "Oh my God," he mumbled under his breath, fumbling to dial the numbers. "Oh my God, Brian. I have to tell Brian."
Brian Kinney was bored. He was in a meeting with some company execs from New Jersey and was completely unfocused. His assistant, Jennifer, was taking notes beside him as the old man in an ill fitted suit droned on, and Brian reached over with his pen and scribbled on the corner of Jennifer's page. When will these assholes stop talking? Her hand had stilled for only a moment before she jotted back, Not sure, but you have this contract in the bag. Brian nearly huffed. He'd had the contract in the bag as soon as these old fogies had entered his office and seen some of his ads, strategically and inconspicuously placed around the room. Their old ad campaign was absolute shit, and they would take any bones Brian would throw at them if it meant an increase in revenue next quarter. It would be an easy job, and completely uninteresting, but the commission was good. Guaranteed good money didn't really hold his focus though, and when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket he almost answered it. He ignored the first text message, and the second, but when the buzzing turned from the little spurts of texts into the long drawn out buzz of a call he stood.
"If you would excuse me for a moment, Gentlemen. I need to take this call." He retreated into the hall and answered the call, relief washing over him as he registered Michael's number. "Good timing Mikey, those old breeders were boring me to death in there."
Uncharacteristically for Michael, he ignored Brian's lack of greeting and words gushed forth immediately. "Brian, holy shit. Have you been able to get ahold of Justin?"
Brian paused. He hadn't spoken to Justin in almost three months, his communication with the young blond sporadic and bittersweet. Never one to talk about his feelings, and known to fight them all the way, Brian had had trouble coping with Justin's departure, even though it'd happened a good seven years ago. They'd tried hard to stay in touch with each other and to move on with their lives, and by all accounts it seemed that Justin had done just that. But Brian had fallen into a sort of stagnancy, his life falling back into his pre-Justin routine even though all his friends were maturing and changing around him. Though he'd never admit it, he was still in love with that little asshole, and it was hard to talk to Justin because of it, and hard not to. So he'd taken to acting as he had before Justin had swooped in and turned his whole world upside down, before he'd given his heart away to a boy whose smile had put the sun to shame. "I haven't talked to him in a while."
"You mean you haven't tried to call him yet? Brian, oh my God. Haven't you seen the news?"
"Mikey, I'm in a meeting. What the fuck are you going on about?"
"There are aliens attacking New York, Bri! Aliens! Manhattan is pretty much a pile of rubble right now and it's still going on!"
Brian paused, his eyes brown eyes widening for a brief moment before he flat out laughed. "What the fuck are you talking about? Aliens Mikey? Really?"
"Yeah, and Captain America is with a bunch of these really badass people that they're calling the Avengers, and Tony Stark is there with the Iron Man suit, and OH MY GOD IS THAT THOR?"
"You have got to be kidding me. Look, I need to get back to the meeting before all those dicks shrivel up and die of old age, but I'll pick you up for lunch and-"
"Brian I'm serious! Turn on the TV or go on YouTube or something. It's everywhere, you'll see. And call Justin!" And then Michael had hung up.
Brian stood the the hall, phone in hand and immobile for a good couple more minutes. Aliens attacking New York? Captain America, the WWII comic book hero, and Thor, the thunder god of legend fighting them, as well as a billionaire in a metal suit? Mikey must have had some weird dreams last night. But if it was all over the news...
He stormed back into his office and grabbed the remote for the wall mounted television off his desk. "Brian?" Jennifer asked, alarmed, but he ignored her and switched to CNN. Sure enough, the first thing they saw was Iron Man shoot some sort of laser blast at something that looked like a humongous metal slug. Then a huge green man-thing jumped into the shot. It stood there for a moment before letting out a roar that shook the camera and leaping away with a speed that was surprising for something so massive and hulking. All eyes in the room were wide and everyone was frozen, watching with awe and fearful fascination. "What in God's name is happening?" one of the execs murmured as another grabbed his cell phone from his briefcase and started making phone calls.
Brian's eyes were glued to the screen, watching the destruction unfold. He only had one thought in his mind, repeating over and over again. Justin. He'd dialed the number and had the phone to his ear without really even realizing it, and as it rang he felt a growing panic. This was worse than that time Babylon got bombed, if only because he'd been able to take a taxi there and find Justin and Mikey himself. Now, though, there was nothing he could do except watch the action on TV and pray that Justin answered his phone. When it went to voicemail, he called again. "Come on Sunshine, pick up. Pick up your fucking phone." He called a third and fourth time, and when it again went to voicemail he'd made his decision. He packed up his things and nodded at Jennifer, his silent communication for clean these guys out and he was out of the office and on the street within minutes. He drove home and packed a bag, then was on his way to the airport, weaving through traffic and running a few stop signs.
He was going to be on the next flight to New York if it killed him.