As Dick came round, he noticed two things, the room he now lay in was different from the one he had arrived in. The walls and surroundings were bare, expect for the presence of the archer from earlier and a man in long black trench coat and..was that an eyepatch? Dick tried to sit up, finding his hands bound to either side of him by sets of metal cuffs. They were obviously standard issue. He flexed his legs for a quick second, pulling attention to them as made the nessecary finger arrangement in his hand to allow a small lockpick to pop from his right wrist. He set to work on it immediately, rolling his neck as the eyepatch wearing Neo wannabe started talking.
"From what we can tell you seem to an average human being. If not a little lost. You'll have to forgive our..containment methods, generally our visitors from other worlds aren't exactly friendly." His hands circled behind his back as he turned and began walking around the room. "You have two options, you tell us everything about you, and might believe you. Or, I have Hawkeye here put an arrow in your eye and be done with it." His voice was familiar to Dick, or rather, the tone used was. It made him uneasy, the last time he had heard it, Deathstroke had put three bullets in his leg and nearly killed Beast Boy back in his Titan days. Those kind of threats that both parties knew could be carried out so very easily.
"I can see your point." Dick sat up slowly and easily. His right hand now free. Hawkeye's bow was drawn instantly, stopped only by Fury's hand. "My name I can't tell you. Secret identity; I'm sure you appreciate that. But you can call me Nightwing." He worked the other cuff off with ease, crossing his legs and sitting up with his hands in his lap. Smiling gently, this was his version of Batman's low growl. Dick could easily throw someone off with his niceities, it was his superpower.
"Kid, I have trained over 300 of the greatest spies this world has ever seen. A smirk and a play of childlike innocence is my rule number 6. From your muscle structure and amount of pockets I'd say you could probably give Hawkeye a little trouble, but don't overstep yourself." Dick's features hardened as Fury's voice lowered and his hands were placed on either side of the bottom of the bed as he leaned forward. "Answers kid. Now." His one eye had that same steel that Dick had been trained under; the kind that made him roll his eyes and let out a single long breath.
"I was chasing some leads back in my town; a city by the name of Bludhaven. Our universe has it's own problems with transdimensional beings; but we do okay. My leads turned me up to a warehouse and when I walked in; I bumped into an unexpected...old friend." His eyebrows pulled together; hands flexing as the image of what he walked in on came flooding back. He shook it off in his head, continuing on. "He's been dealing in teleportation. A malfunction during our fight and your science boys little gizmo landed me here. I'm betting that the device they built was stronger than they anticipated; punching into my own little line of teleportation and dragging me here. Other than that, I don't know anything else." He was appreciating that Hawkeye had lowered his bow and Fury nodded in a almost sagely fashion.
"You'll be staying here in this tower. There are six of our worlds heroes here. You've met most of them. They'll be working on a way to send you back and keeping you in line while you're here. If you leave this tower I will not hesitate to sign the kill order I've got prepped on my desk." With that he stepped up to the archer and nodded. "Agent Barton will be watching you; wherever he goes you go." He stepped out of the room as Dick hopped onto his feet. Hawkeye flicked his wrist and the bow retracted, slipping behind him.
For a good minute; the two men stood completely still; staring each other out. To anyone else it would look like both men were on autopilot; standing with blank looks and tense bodies. In reality they were playing a mental game of chess. Punch; kick; grab, the dance in his mind was beautiful, Dick had rarely met anyone in his own world other than Bruce who could go through these mental steps. He played out three scenarios' in his head. Each one ended the same. He'd be bleeding out from a mortal arrow wound and Hawkeye would be unconscious. A dangerous affair, the archer broke the silence first.
"We done? I've not eaten in 6 hours, nevermind the bathroom. You can relax, from our little mental spar I can tell you're not a killer. Also, we checked through your belt once the charge had exhausted itself on a couple of rubber gloves. We also found these down stairs in the lab." He stepped forward and held out two black sticks. They were the length of a persons elbow to there fingers, his ecrisma sticks. Dick decided in that moment that he liked this Hawkeye.
"Oh my babies; did they hurt you?" He took them quickly, examining the sticks. A quick inspection showed the charge was exhausted, which was strange. He slipped them onto his back, the satisfying click as they stuck in place.
"We didn't damage 'em. Although watching Tony convulse on the floor when he tried to pick them up was pretty satsifying. I owe you." They made their way from the room; down a hall and into an open-plan room. It was two levels; the kitchen and doorways were wooden floors and raised; a large oval sunk into the floor facing a wall with a ridiculously big TV on it. The seats within the oval were built into it, a comfy looking shag carpet on the floor. Within the oval sat 6 people; who all stood up one by one to watch his entry.
The crazed eyebrow wiggling man with the goatee was the first to shoot up. "Sleeping beauty; good to see ya. I hear you'll be staying in my fabulous abode." He strutted forward; confident and easy while the others in the group looked apprehensive, the redheaded woman even thumbing a small knife. "Tony Stark; billionaire genius, a pleasure I'm sure." He stuck his hand out to Dick, who oblidged with a quick shake.
"Nightwing; vigilante, badass." Tony's impressed chuckle was met with a glare from the clean cut blonde who approached him, sticking his hand out as he did so.
"Steve Rogers." He shook the other mans hand, who for some reason looked rather wary of shaking it. He eventually seemed to decide in his head just to get on with it, taking Dick's hand in a surprisingly firm grasp. "I don't mean to be rude, but are we going to get your real name?"
"Maybe; it depends on how far that information will go." He looked over once more at the remaining three people; the armour clad giant strolled up to him and clasped his wrist in a tight grip and shook his arm nearly from its socket.
"Thor of Asgard. It is good to meet another traveler of worlds Night's Wing." Nightwing took a moment; obviously this man wasn't human then and if his name was anything to go off he was most likely a god. He catalogued it away to ask later. The redheaded woman merely nodded at him. "Natasha." That was all she said before she stalked from room; Hawkeye rolling his eyes to Nightwings left.
"Forgive our resident redhead; she's a little suspicious of everyone. She's russian." Again was the patronising tone of billionaire, a strange team dynamic, obviously. The last man to approach looked somewhat out of place, not ripped or wealthy, nor armed. He'd ask his position later.
"Bruce Banner." He extended a lazy arm, a similar lazy smile on his face. Nightwing shook the hand gently and stepped back as the people stood looking expectantly. Nightwing's plan was simple, should anyone in this team have shared abilities or names similar to anyone from his own world; he'd keep his identity secret, but he needed to give them something to trust, that much was obvious. He sighed.
His arm raised hesitantly as the redheaded woman returned with a bigger knife. His hand pressed the hidden clasp on his domino mask. The booty trap turned off and his lens dyed out as he pulled it loose. His blue eyes scanning the room. "Dick Grayson." There was a couple of approving smiles from Steve, Thor and Bruce; while Tony's snickering grew louder.
"Dick, really? So it's Richard. Yet you call yourself Dick, who does that?" He gave an exasperated shake of his head and wafted one hand in the air. "I'm going to bed, we'll start work on getting you home tomorrow. Clint can show you where your room is." He raised an eyebrow and Barton nodded; Dick giving an understanding nod. This was going to be interesting. The remainder of the people in the room filed out; Dick following Clint to a room between his own and Natasha's.
"I won't bother locking the door, it probably wouldn't keep you in there. Just be aware that I won't hesitate to kill you; neither will Natasha." There was a moment of silence followed by the sound of a ammo clip slipping into a gun from the door next to his. He smirked and nodded. "Point taken." He stepped into the room, it was bigger than the last, a open doored wardrobe had various new looking clothes in it and the bed was luxorious looking that Dick suddenly felt the tiredness over coming him. He fought it off; the hologram computer popping up on his wrist as he started to log everything he knew so far. From the distance he'd measured from doors to windows; to names and possible abilities. Always be prepared; satisfied he peeled off the suit; totally aware that weird placing of a mirror amongst a bare room was probably a hidden camera. He kept his back to it; throwing a cheeky smirk over his shoulder as he stripped down and climbed into the bed.
Elsewhere...
Tony sat amongst the other Avengers in the control room; watching as the kid they had dragged here accidentally threw a cheeky smirk at the hidden camera, they were all aware that he'd sat in a perfect position as he tapped away on the circular computer hologram that was located on his wrist. They could read every word. He was giving them little bit by little bit to gain their trust, he was smart. Aware he was out gunned and probably just wanting to go home. Tony had to agree with Darcy; who had been watching intently the entire time.
"I say we keep him."
"No, Tony." Steve's voice rang out first.
"Nay, man of iron." Was the second booming reply.
"Not the best idea." a tired sigh and the squeak of cloth on glass.
"I agree!" A fangirl squeal.
"Thats my girl." The groan of the rest of the group of audible as Tony and Darcy's knuckles met. Steve hoped to god that they could get this poor kid home before this got any weirder. He regretted that wish almost immediately, knowing that the Avengers never got off that easily. He glanced up to see Clint and Natasha wearing the same look on their faces; a gut feeling he shared. If the kid had been fighting with someone when he came through; why had he arrived alone? Or had he arrived alone at all..
A/N: Another chapter that I have enjoyed writing; but I'm not super happy with it. Next few chapters are going to feature less characters; just a warning; it's hard to get all those personalities and banter into one chapter so I'm going to break it up. I'll update sooner than I have this time; apologies.