Chapter 1: The Anomalies
It was a dismal parking lot where the pair found the presumed cause of the second anomaly. In a past life they would have been at a Walmart; the ghost of its letters could still be seen in the off coloration on the wall. Occasionally, when strong wind blew through, a shopping cart would roll across the tattered asphalt like an urban tumbleweed. Two sets of eyes watched such a sight, one irritated by the accompanying shriek the cart made from a faulty wheel. A repulsion blast broke the wheel further, along with the entire shopping cart.
"I could never have a child." Tony grumbled, stepping over the burning pile of plastic. His mask was flipped up revealing his heavy under eye bags and a bitter frown. His facial concoction of frustration, irritation, and exhaustion could only be achieved by someone who had been woken up at 3 a.m and sent to an abandoned Walmart. "Too squeaky."
"Don't tell Peter that." Steve warned. He scanned the parking lot, hands gripping his shield. "And let's try not to warn whatever caused this that we're coming."
Tony flipped down his mask and it shut with a clank that rippled across the parking lot. "Whoops." He took a couple steps further, each one causing a dulled thunder of metal hitting asphalt. The parking lot was riddled with muddy puddles from a recent storm. Tony made an effort to splash through every one he came across.
The Captain rolled his eyes. He would have prefered to spar the Hulk, rather than explore a parking lot with a sleep deprived toddler adorned in an expensive soup can. Unfortunately the world seemed to like to take from Steve, so there he was in an unnervingly open space with only a man child to back him up if he got jumped. Said child began rotating as he searched for heat sources.
"Peter's not a kid," Tony said. "he's a teenager." Nothing was coming up on his sensors except a pigeon that kept hopping around the lot like a middle aged soccer mom who'd forgotten where she'd parked. "He'll still probably give me an aneurysm though. Get that inheritance early."
"He's in your will?"
Tony shushed him. The pigeon joined in with Tony by chirping at the American legend. Tony gave the bird a nod. In a world where seemingly everyone loved the Capsical it was nice to have at least one ally, albeit a feathered one. Sadly, it was a fleeting moment as his clanking scarred the pigeon off.
"Did you get something?"
"I think so.
Tony picked up his pace, the clanking getting more frequent as a result. He sent a look over his shoulder at Steve who was jogging behind him.
"Looks human sized too, though I'm not ruling out a flight of pigeons yet." He tried to keep the mood light, knowing full well it was the former; and the temperature was dangerously cold. There was a woosh as he started flying towards the heat source.
Clank he flipped open his face plate again. They had come to where all the shopping carts got stuck on their spontaneous migration. It was a dip where the ground under the asphalt had started to collapse. It was like a snapshot of a tornado composed of carts, and right in the eye storm a body rested, broken.
It was a short male whose hands gripped his stained stomach. He was masked and costumed in black and red with a leather jacket several sizes too big for him hung around his shoulders like a blanket. His shirt had been torn near the middle partially exposing his mauled stomach. Tony landed beside the boy his mind screaming: don't be dead.
The boy's chest move slightly and with each breath he whimpered. Steve kneeled next to the boy moving his hands to examine the wound. "Tony." He called. "Get someone here." He didn't risk scooping the figure up, afraid of worsening the cut across his gut. "Paramedics, S.H.I.E.L.D, anyone."
He closed his mask and for the third time that day his face plate ringed out soundwaves across the walmart gravesite. "J.A.R.V.I.S, call Fury." The boy reached a bloodied hand towards Steve, gripping onto his forearm; It left a red smear across his arm.
"Jason?" He croaked. "I think B's gonna, gonna-" He struggled to get out words in between his shallow breaths. He held on tighter to the forearm pulling himself up slightly so he could get closer. "He's gonna-" He slumped back into the ground, staring blankly towards Steve through his masked eyes .
"It'll be alright, kiddo." The Captain consoled as the boy lulled back into unconsciousness. His hand was still securely holding onto Steve through it weakened the longer he didn't wake up.
"It'll be alright" He echoed. He shifted, repurposing the jacket to help slow the blood flow. The ground beneath the boy had turned a sickening shade of red that blended in with the feathered cape that he wore.
A few feet away Tony broke his conversation to Fury, "Who the hell is Jason?"
The first anomaly had fallen into the main hull of the helicarrier, and considering that he was the trespasser, he seemed overly pissed at Fury's crew. The man wore a red helmet with the basic contours of a human face. The helmet blocked out any facial expressions, yet the man compensated through his colorful langue.
"Where the fuck did the kid go?" The man's shirt was tainted red, and seeing that he was unharmed Fury doubted the blood was his. He ignored the people drawing guns on him, and instead he motioned with his hand a little higher than his shoulder. "He's around yay tall, real annoying."
Agent Coulson shot Fury a glance before cocking his gun and aiming it at the unknown figure. "Identify yourself." Fury watched with a raised eyebrow. Although the figure had talked airly, his stance was closed off and he was shifting his weight back and forth.
He gestured towards his helmet, tapping it twice with a gloved fingertip. "Red Hood." He let out an exasperated sigh, before turning towards Fury, rapidly identifying him as the one in charge. "I think you need to fire that one."
Coulson straightened his arms out further. The man, Red Hood didn't seem bothered by the twenty something guns pointed at him, though as time ticked down his posture got more tense. He was the human equivalent of a time bomb, Fury knew that much. His muscles were spring locked and it was only a matter of moments before the man did something.
"Put your hands up, and Identify yourself." Coulson reiterated.
Coulson's words cut the wrong wire on the bomb sending the spring loaded man forward. He grasped a nearby agent holding them in such a way to limit movement while holding a gun to his side.
"Look, I don't have time for this." He dug it into the side harder making the agent wince. He was a newer agent, having only arrived early that month. Fury was determined to keep the agent alive long enough to learn his name. "Tell me where Red Robin is before I waste a bullet"
The hand gripping the gun held it securely, though the finger rested lightly on the trigger. If Fury had more trust in the agent he might have played the bluff, If Natasha was the one being threatened he would have bid his own eye. He was pretty sure this agent had ended lost in the engine room the other day. Instead he changed the game they were playing.
"We'll take you to him." He crossed his arms. "But not until you let go of my agent."
He could feel the eyes watching him calculatingly, considering the repercussions of releasing his hostage. Said hostage had gotten progressively paler in the man's grip. "We don't want anyone to die right before Christmas, now do we?"
The agent was pushed forward and barely caught by agent Hill by the back of his sleeve. "Good decision." Fury commented. He eyed the gun in Red Hood's hand. He somewhat solemnly switched the safety on before reholstering it.
"If the replacment's dead so are you." He warned.
Fury strode forward, completely unaware who Red Hood was looking for. "He's this way." The man didn't move, instead watching all the guns pointed at him. He gestured towards his own holstered gun. Fury signalled agent Coulson forward, everyone else sluggishly put their guns away.
"Good decision" Red Hood mocked while strutting forward. His bloodied chest made him look like a bird of paradise, though perhaps, he was more like a dodo, too confidant that there were no dangers that when one finally showed up he'd become extinct.
The trio had left the main control room and were making there way deeper into the underbelly of the ship. Fury was hoping he could make it to the detainment cells before the man beside him placed a bullet in his head, or at least tried to.
"So, who are you guys?" Red Hood asked. "You definitely aren't the League; some knock off of Ra's guys?"
"Ra's?" Coulson asked. The name was unfamiliar to Fury as well, and he knew everyone's name. Not knowing the intruder was largely why he wanted to dissect the inner workings of his mind, the wires that kept him ticking. Also, knowing which buttons to press always made things simpler.
Yet he didn't know any of the man's buttons, instead, for when the man chose to get aggressive, Hill was calling a certain agent who could easily detain the man... theoretically… hopefully.
"You really must be new on the scene." He crossed his arms, hands gripping tightly down on his upper arm. "I don't think Ra's likes it when others steal his toys." He uncrossed his arm to run a finger alongside the wall as they walked, the other clenched at the side of his hip, holding a phantom gun.
Whoever this Red Robin was, he was the only thing stopping a gloved hand from grabbing a real gun. The only button he could press, at this point Fury was so reliant on it that it was more like slamming down on a lever.
The gears whirling inside the man's head were the most concerning thing to Fury. An aware, likely intelligent opponent, had always seemed more dangerous to him than a brutish one. It was a spectrum though, he still would take this man over the Hulk.
Each moment that passed, increased the odds that the man would call Fury on his BS. Of course, Red Hood could have already called his bluff and was merely biding his time. Waiting till they got further away from help. A worse decision in the long run, the man must have been clueless if he didn't know of the heavy hitter making her way to him.
"How's he doing?" Red Hood inquired. "The replacment's alright isn't he? No major injuries?"
Shit. "Yeah, the kid seemed alright." Red Hood nodded. His hand started to clench again, opening and closing repeatedly. His steps became heavier.
"Good, that's good."
Things were not good. He had begun to get the feeling maybe he was the dodo. They went through a door that slammed loudly behind the trio.
His non visible face was not a hindrance, Hood's body language provided all the accommodations Fury needed; he was currently trapped in a hallway with a rabid dog whose tether was slowly getting loosened.
"You seem to care for him." Fury commented.
"More of an obligation."
Another corner turned. More seconds passing. A child getting more reckless as they ran out of time to answer questions. The anxiety of those last ten seconds. The hopeless last ditch effort to bubble in the final five questions. The aftermath of knowing that your time has run out.
They turned a corner and he was slammed to the ground. Coulson rushed forward, yet the figure grabbed his shoulders, redirecting him against the metal wall he had been inspecting. Coulson crippled to the spotless floor with an audible thump. He stuck something into the man's side that caused Coulson's muscles to start to relax.
"Minor sedative." The man reassured. He placed a boot atop Fury's chest. His hand gripped the gun aiming it towards Fury, the other reaching down to hold him up by the collar. "Now tell me who the hell you guys are and where Red Robin is." He clicked the safety off.
"You're bluffing."
The man chuckled darkly. Fury's fingers struggled to tap a button near his side. "I only need one person to get information." He let go of the collar causing Fury's head to bang against floor. "I don't doubt your lackey knows nearly as much."
"Does it seem like we know where he is? Who he is?" Fury starred past the barrel into his own reflection in the helmet. "You're smart enough to have realized that we don't have him."
The barrel shooks slightly.
"Tell me where he is, I'm not going back to Gotham with a dead robin, I'm not facing Bats that way." He leaned closer Fury, denial reeking from his mouth. "So stop lying and start talking, it's in your own best interest." The gun rested on his forehead, it was slightly warm, it'd be shot recently.
"And to think I thought you were smart."
The boot pushed harder on his chest, he was lucky that a rib hadn't cracked yet. The radiation of hatred wafting off Red Hood was enough to give Fury skin cancer, or at least some suspicious moles. Fury increased his manipulative hold. He couldn't get the man to the holding cells from here, but he still hadn't failed.
"It seems like your little buddy must in bad shape, yet you're wasting your limited time interrogating someone who knows nothing."
"He's not my buddy."
The Hood's instency to deny any relationship to his associate intrigued Fury. Something was complicated there, an obligation he had said.
"Say that when he's dead."
The man winced before gripping the gun tighter, shaking slightly.. Sure, he thought just an obligation.
"Shut up." Red Hood snarled.
Fury's eyes caught sight of a shadow of red pass behind the man. He smirked. The pressure on his chest was extremely painful at the point, not that it would matter in a few seconds.
"Fuck you." Fury enjoyed seeing the man suddenly tense up at his words before spinning around.
Natasha jumped towards the man who had turned around too late, her legs wrapping around his neck, she pulled back causing him to fall towards the ground. As he fell he shot the gun with it meeting its mark inside the bicep of Fury who braced the pain with a clench of his jaw that made his teeth hurt.
A syringe in Natasha's hand tried to make contact with the target. The two grappled on the ground, and each time that she got close he would flip her around. He tossed his weight around, while still being evasive enough to not get stabbed. "You'll have to speak to my pharmacist before you stick something in me." He flipped Natasha over rolling with her so that he was on top. Her hand holding the syringe was pinned against the ground.
Fury held the gunshot wound wincing as he went over to Coulson. A finger pressed against his neck assured that the man hadn't killed him, though if what had been administered was a sedative was still unknown.
Natasha had gotten Red Hood into and arm bar and was getting dangerously close to breaking his skin with the needle, as well as his arm.
"Oh hell no" He grunted, twisting out of the grip. He rolled her over again. The two were at a standstill neither able to completely overtake the other.
Fury's arm had taken out a loan, and its student debt was currently ransaking his nerves. He was slumped against the wall beside Coulson observing the man. Red Hood kept on trying to grab a something. Natasha kept on canceling his attempts. Her foot came down on his hand causing him to mutter out swears under his breath.
He had begun to get concerned that the battle would be never ending. When a voice came overhead through the speaker system. "A second anomaly has been detected."
Red Hood's head snapped up. "Red Robin." Though he was only distracted for a moment, it was long enough to break the cycle. Natasha thrust her hand forward bringing the needle into his side. He gripped it, before standing to his feet.
"I just want to reiterate." He pulled the needle from his side tossing it to the ground where he crushed it with a boot. "Fuck you." His hand grabbed the wall to help support himself. "I cannot emphasize that enough."
Natasha caught the man as he fell forward with droopy eyelids. "Fuck you guys so much." His dead body weight caused Natasha to grunt and adjust her grip. She glanced over to Fury.
"Sir, you and Coulson need to get medical attention."
"I know." He pulled himself from the ground. His hand was covered with a sickly substance. He had checked, and there hadn't been an exit wound meaning the bullet was still taking up quarters in his upper arm. "Let's find somewhere to set this guy first."
"Sir?"
"Yes?"
The man was slumped across her shoulder like a toddler who had eaten an entire wedding cake and had to deal with the childhood equivalent of a hangover; a sugar crash. A drop of drool was threatening to roll down her shoulder.
"Who the hell is Red Robin?"
