Lone Wolves, No-Names, and Second Chancers
Prologue: Avengers Material
Stark Tower, one month ago…
With a purposeful stride and a steady forward stare, Steve made his way up the hall to the office. The elevator ride to reach the top floor gave him more than enough time to determine just what he'd say. Halfway up the hall, the office door swung open and a suit-clad man stormed his way, his head down as he muttered to himself. As the man strode uncaringly past, Steve recognised he was speaking Russian, though he was too quiet and disappeared too quickly for him to translate anything other than 'bastard'. Steve straightened his jacket as he reached Tony's open door, unsure what to expect when he looked into the office. He was somewhat relieved to see Tony seated on the edge of his desk, which shone under the morning sunrays that came through his clear windows to fill the vast office. With one foot on his chair as he looked out over New York, Tony rested his hand on the desk's surface, said hand clad in a red gauntlet from his then-current armour. Beyond the wall of glass high above the city, towering cranes worked with dot-like labourers on reconstruction efforts.
"Tony?" Steve said from the doorframe. Tony spun around on his spot with a look of indifference. Steve knew Tony well enough to recognise that he was merely hiding his slight joy at seeing him again after so long. "Your receptionist downstairs told me you were in a meeting, but she said to head up anyway. I hope I'm not interrupting." Tony shrugged as Steve entered.
"Wouldn't have been a hassle if you did, anyway. I knew I'd be finished with Mr Vanko by the time you made it up."
"How so?"
"Security cams in the lobby picked up the gun in his jacket. And as he's just learnt, you don't bring a gun to a high-powered-electromechanical-exoskeleton fight." Steve lifted his chin at Tony's fast-spoken, casual response.
"Right." Tony motioned to the chair beside Steve, still leaning lazily on his upsettingly expensive desk.
"Have a seat." Steve nodded as he obliged, having waited on the order. "What can I do for you?" Steve seated himself properly before answering.
"I've been talking with Clint. We've made the call. We're reassembling the Avengers." Tony slid off the desk onto his feet before dropping into his chair.
"Ah. Of course. I remember old Hawkeye was arguing for us to reassemble before we even broke up."
"I'm not certain who I'll be able to get a hold of again or if we'll need another recruitment drive, but either way, we're going to need a headquarters."
"Mansion's never been closed to any of you. As long as you have your ID cards, you've got access. Same for the Quinjets and everything else there, too." Steve tilted his head.
"Really?"
"What, you didn't try it?"
"I…didn't want to trespass on your property."
"I would've tried it."
"Well…glad that's solved."
"That all you came for?"
"There's one other thing. Sam and Carol are onboard already, we're yet to hear back from Thor and T'Challa, and Clint's talking to Jen right now, but…Since I'm here, I thought I'd ask if you were interested in returning to the team." Tony sighed as he flexed his armoured hand, loosening its parts and letting him pull it off like a regular glove.
"You know why I can't, Steve."
"I know why you won't." Tony frowned.
"Forgive me for having trust issues in the aftermath of a secret invasion conducted by a race of shape-shifting aliens over the last few years that just revealed itself and resulted in planetary warfare. I know it's a real common problem, should have gotten over it by now."
"That's not what I meant."
"Of course. If it were, then you wouldn't bother asking me to come back to the formerly-Skrull-infiltrated Avengers."
"No, I…I wasn't accusing you of anything. I'm sorry it came off that way."
"Besides, I've already got my hands full on my own. Vanko there? I just got done exposing him to the Russian government for the sale of military hardware after he spent two months trying to hook up with Stark Industries. Thought he could secure a weapons contract with us. Clearly, he hasn't been watching the news for the last eight years or so." Steve kept his composure.
"I didn't mean to offend or force you, Tony. I thought I'd ask while I was here, that's all."
"Right. Well, you've already got the keys to your HQ. Better get to knocking on Hank and Jan's door, because it's a no from me."
"Actually, we already asked them. They'd like to focus on raising Hope."
"I know. They were just the first people to come into my head."
Avengers Mansion, now…
Drivers and pedestrians going by 890 Fifth Avenue were treated to quite the diverse gathering of characters that summer morning. Before the closed gates of Avengers Mansion stood eight people, waiting for the last of their number to arrive. Only New York's red-and-blue web-slinger himself was in his costume, perched atop a streetlight beside the others in their civilian clothes. At the far end of the group, a young black man sat atop a luggage bag, taking in the metropolitan surroundings. His medium-length black dreadlocks were held back from his eyeline by a headband, his small smile slightly displacing his dark mutton chops. He turned around at the tap on his shoulder, looking up to see a blonde white man younger than himself smiling down at him.
"Hey, how's it goin'?" The blonde offered his hand. "Name's Sam Guthrie, nice to meet you."
"Eden Fesi." The dreadlocked man replied in his Aboriginal Australian accent, taking the hand and shaking. Sam nodded profusely to himself, biting his lip as he looked at the mansion again. As Eden could tell by his voice, he could barely contain his excitement. His Kentucky accent made his jubilance sound even more wholesome.
"It's awesome, right? We're gonna be Avengers. Ain't that just the coolest thing ever?"
"Right, yeah. Awesome."
"I just can't wait to get out there and start blastin', y'know? Show Kang and Ultron and all the other big bads what we're packin'. You excited, Eden?" Eden found he couldn't quite match his enthusiasm.
"Uh, sure, I guess."
"Hey, it's cool if ya ain't." Sam pointed his thumb to the same-aged dark-skinned Latino behind him, who was texting on his phone. "My pal Bobby ain't as buzzed, either. Guess the idea of bein' called 'new Avenger Sunspot' doesn't hit him like 'new Avenger Cannonball' hits me." Bobby sighed and looked up from his phone at Sam.
"We've been over this, Sam." His tone was light despite his choice in language, helped some by his Brazilian accent. "I'm plenty excited to have received this offer. But so far, all it's meant is we've traded up one mansion for another. You'll see me smiling once we're in the field." Sam smirked playfully at his classmate.
"Isn't that what you said when you first showed up at Xavier's, silver spoon?" Bobby responded to Sam's expression in kind.
"Well, we can't all be farmers, Colonel Sanders." Sam turned back to Eden.
"Anyway, you got a codename yet? Or are you new to the biz? Forgive me, but I ain't ever seen you before."
"Yeah, and that's a real shock. This dork here knows the date the Fantastic Four got hit by those cosmic rays by heart." Sam elbowed Bobby quiet as Eden responded.
"I go by Manifold."
"Like the Calabi-Yau manifold?"
"I…have no idea. They just gave me the name."
"Who's they?" Eden locked up slightly.
"I'm pretty sure they told me I can't say." Sam was initially sullen, until he turned back to Bobby, who himself was back to texting, and covered his mouth to whisper in his ear.
"20 bucks says he's ex-SHIELD."
"Uh huh." Bobby kept his eyes on his phone. Sam frowned slightly before looking down at the screen as his friend typed a message to their classmate Amara back at the X-Mansion. He smirked once again as a notion crossed his mind. "Whoa now, Bobby, you can't send that to Jubilee!" He suddenly shouted. Bobby's instantly panicked eyes shot off his phone and he looked past the skinny white guy beside him to see Logan staring sideways right back at him, his eyes cutting as deep as his claws. Then he turned angrily back to a giggling Sam and punched him a tad harder than perhaps he should have. Logan shifted his eyes off the energetic youths as he took the cigar from his teeth and blew another puff of smoke.
"Logan?" The man to his left said, not drawing his attention. "I, uh, I don't think you'll be allowed to smoke when we get in the mansion." Logan maintained his forward stare as he placed the short, smouldering stoogie back in his mouth, some of the ash falling off onto his leather jacket.
"Then you'd better let me enjoy this one in peace, Banner." His grim reply prompted only a nod from Bruce, who turned away and went back to minding his own business with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on his shoes. Beside the scrappy, cigar-chomping X-Man was a completely ordinary occurrence: two strangers, one a redhead woman, the other an Asian man, standing beside each other in complete silence. It would have been totally unexceptional under any other circumstances…except Spider-Man was hanging by his feet off the streetlamp between them.
"So, Widow, how's the lying and killing going?" He asked the redhead, his voice affable despite his words. "Business booming? Tortures still torture-y?"
"All confidential," Natasha replied, her Russian accent making her words even dryer. "And how about you? Rescue many cats from trees while I've been off gathering intelligence to overthrow dictators?"
"Two or three, yeah." Widow nodded, though her expression remained stone still. Spider-Man turned his head to the Asian man to Natasha's right. "I don't believe we've met. Name's Spider-Man, of the friendly-neighbourhood variety." The man smiled politely and bowed his head.
"I have heard of you, Spider-Man." His relaxed voice stood in stark contrast to Natasha's dispassionate tone. "My name is Shang-Chi."
"Shang-Chi. Cool. So, what's your thing? You're like Iron Fist or something?"
"No. I'm better." Spider-Man chuckled at the complete confidence Shang-Chi uttered that statement with. Then he looked into his dark eyes and realised he wasn't joking.
"Right, well, just for reference? The last person I heard say that was Moon Knight, and I had to fish him out of a dumpster a block away from the spot where he said that once Iron Fist himself proved otherwise."
"Danny told me he and Moon Knight were friends."
"Yeah, well, at first the white-hooded whacko made it very difficult for anyone to get along with him. We were called in by Daredevil to help him take down the Kingpin and – wait, 'Danny'? You know him?"
"Of course. That's how I found out I was his better." Spider-Man looked at Natasha as if seeking validation. She offered nothing in response. The web-head didn't get any more time to be shocked, however, as the group of recruits looked up to see two costumed heroines descend onto the road to join them. As they came closer to the ground, their costumes became visible: it was Captain Marvel and Spider-Woman. A friendly smile was on Captain Marvel's face as she touched the ground, but the same could not have been said for Spider-Woman. Even with half her face covered by her mask, her anxiety couldn't have been more obvious. What's worse, as she stared at the gathered people with worry, they stared back with suspicion. Captain Marvel saw their faces and thought perhaps they simply weren't used to seeing her in the original Kree hero's colours yet. Then she realised they were looking at Spider-Woman, which given that Jessica's arrival at the mansion was on the condition that Carol accompanied her, wasn't helpful. Her expression turned indignant as she addressed them.
"What, you've never seen two genuine Avengers before?" She rhetorically asked, snapping everyone out of their staring states. Spider-Woman leant over to her friend.
"You didn't have to do that." She muttered meekly.
"One of us had to." Captain Marvel responded with equal volume but greater assurance. At that moment, Spider-Man flipped down from the lamppost and sidled up to the two.
"Thank God you arrived." He began. "I thought I was the only one who showed up in costume." Spider-Woman's thankful grin towards Captain Marvel stuck around at getting at least one friendly greeting from the gathered heroes. From a window on the third floor of the mansion, Hawkeye watched over the waiting recruits with crossed arms and a scrutinising expression, fully dressed in-costume per Captain America's orders. Falcon leant against the wall beside him in his own red and white garb with a relaxed smile.
"They're all here," Hawkeye said.
"Is that a hint of disappointment I hear?" Falcon rhetorically asked.
"How could I be disappointed? Nat always comes through when I call her up."
"Come on, Clint. If Steve thinks these guys are Avengers material, I don't doubt it for a second."
"Yeah, well, the only reason any of them are even here is that Steve also thinks 'no' is an acceptable answer from long-time teammates when being asked for help."
"You were the one fighting hardest for the Avengers to reassemble." Hawkeye turned his head to Falcon sternly.
"Exactly. Iron Man, Thor, She-Hulk, Black Panther, Vision, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Ant-Man, Wasp, Mockingbird. They were the Avengers. Now it's just you, me, Steve, and Carol, stuck with a batch of…of lone wolves, no-names, and second chancers. Except for Nat. She gets a pass."
"Right. Because none of our old teammates were ever former weapons contractors, killer robots, mutant terrorists, cousins of unstoppable beasts, or archery-themed criminals." Hawkeye paused as he looked back out the window, silently cursing himself at being verbally outmanoeuvred.
"At least with Jen, there was never a chance she'd bite my head off mid-battle."
"What about that time you shot her in the ass with one of your taser arrows?" Hawkeye threw his arms up.
"Come on, the ONE TIME I missed and no one can let it go!" Falcon chortled to himself as he brought his fingers to the communicator in his ear.
"They're all here, Cap."
"Understood." Cap's voice crackled back through. "Meet you at the door."
"Copy that." Falcon and Hawkeye made their way out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the first floor, where Captain America had come up from practise in the sub-basement levels, dressed in uniform like his subordinates.
"Got your rousing speech prepped, Cap?" Hawkeye sarcastically asked as he walked on his right towards the front door.
"Of course, why else would I have been down there so long?" Cap simply replied. Hawkeye looked at Falcon on the Captain's left.
"Can't tell if he's joking." Falcon shrugged.
"Guess we'll find out." He responded. Captain America pushed the wooden doors open and let the light into the freshly-cleaned mansion. The recruits outside all turned to see the three Avengers standing atop the building's front steps as Cap tapped his ID card and opened the gates behind them. Hawkeye ran his sceptical eyes over the new members once again. Falcon simply crossed his arms and looked at Captain America, who placed his fists on his hips as he smiled.
"Avengers!" He began in a clear, booming, declarative tone. Sam thumped Bobby as he grinned ear-to-ear.
"He's gonna say 'assemble'!" He loudly whispered.
"Assemble!"
"We already did, bub," Logan grumbled to himself as he tossed his cigar butt onto the sidewalk. While Natasha and Shang were unshaken, the ecstatic Sam could have died happy right at that moment. Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder, half expecting him to blast off on the spot. Bruce and Eden each smiled to themselves at hearing the famous rallying cry directed their way, while Spider-Woman seemed to wince at the words the way one would wince at wearing an ill-fitting sweater. Unbeknownst to her, Spider-Man was doing the same under his mask. Captain Marvel saw Spider-Woman's hesitation and placed an arm around her slumped shoulders, drawing her worried friend's eyes to her own and prompting another mutual smile between the two.
"Spare an arm to hug another spider-person, Cap?" Spider-Man interrupted, ruining the two's moment. Captain Marvel shot him the look to show it, prompting Spider-Man to cross his arms and look away. "Fine. But if you ever need a web-patterned shoulder to lean on, remember this little moment before you get mad when I say 'no'."