HFTS: I have a feeling I'll need to fix up this chapter later on. I was going to have it longer, but I also wanted to update as soon as possible. So, if its horrible I apologise profusely.

Warning: Features disturbing content as well as past animal/child abuse.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers and/or Marvel.

Clint stretched and downed the last of his coffee. He crumpled the paper cup between his fingers and ditched it into a nearby trashcan. After a final onceover of his bow and arrows, he moved into the rough circle Tony had nicknamed 'the Rainbow Bridge Airstrip'. Natasha nodded to him, before turning her attention back to Sif. The dark-haired warrior was explaining, briefly, how the Bifrost worked, and where they expected to emerge. It had taken a lot of organisation and pushing to convince Heimdall to help them, but he had finally agreed after Frigga made the request in person. Steve was listening seriously, ignoring the click of Tony's camera phone. It was vaguely surreal for him to be heading into a mission without his stars and stripes, having instead opted for a more inconspicuous and agile suit (something Stark had put together at four in the morning no doubt). At least, it was surreal to Clint. Natasha had just smirked approvingly and moved on. Finally, when everything had been checked and double-checked, Sif threw her head back and shouted sky-wards, "Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!"

It was like trying to stand upright in a hurricane. Wind pulled at his clothes and nipped at his skin, nearly throwing him off balance. Clint closed his eyes as they were enveloped in a rush of colours. His feet left the ground and his stomach did flips at the sudden weightlessness. You're gonna fall. You're gonna go so, so, so HIGH and then you're gonna crash. You're GONNA DIE. Enjoy the fall, hawk, 'cause this is gonna HURT. DON'T LOOK DOWN 'CAUSE YOU'RE GONNA CRASH! It's nothing personal, just business, little brother.

"Clint!" Natasha called. She ran her fingers over his arm gently and tugged on his hand. "Clint, open your eyes. You've gotta see this."

Clint gritted his teeth and forced his eyelids open. His jaw slackened at the sight. Stars were strewn across the sky amongst a lightshow that put the Aurora Borealis to shame. A planet was suspended in the distance, looking no larger than a basketball. It was cast in shadow, small moons swirling around it like a space junk ballet. He glanced to Natasha and saw it all reflected in her eyes. Turning, he could only just see the expression on Steve's face, and he wondered if he looked that lost and small too. The three of them stared out the universe, quiet and contemplating how utterly insignificant they were. Clint was almost disappointed when the air around them started to frizzle, signifying that they were closing in on their destination, but he was definitely thankful when his boots hit solid earth. "That- That was quite a ride," he managed breathlessly.

"Enjoy yourself?" Fandral asked.

"Oh yeah. Reminds me of the Tilt-A-Whirl," Clint replied, scanning the area around them.

"The… what?"

"It's a… It's a thrill ride. For fun, you know? You get on it and it," Clint made a complicated motion with his fingers "does its thing."

"Do you often partake in this… thrill riding?"

"I haven't gone to an amusement park since I left the circus."

"They have places on Midgard entirely for amusements?" Sif queried.

"Dozens," Cap told her.

"How charming." Sif shouldered her travel bag and jerked her head towards the parse beginnings of a forest. "According to Thor's directions, we head eastward until we come to a large, black stone with runes carved into it. We'll need to keep our eyes open and our weapons drawn. This place is dangerous; we have no idea the sort of creatures that roam this land."

"Fandral and I will take the lead," Hogun said. He gestured to Fandral, who nodded, and they trudged forward.

"Stay in sight! We don't want to lose one another," Volstagg called after them. It sounded unbearably loud in the silence. Clint could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end and he wasn't sure if something was moving in the corner of his eye or if his imagination was just being a dick.

"Let's move. The longer we stand still, the longer this will take," Sif said brusquely. She glanced at each of them before pointedly marching into the forest. The rest of them eyed the trees with suspicion before following her.

"What did Thor say lived here, exactly?" Steve asked as the passed a fallen tree. The scratches along the bark were taller than Volstagg and almost as wide as Natasha.

"He didn't," Volstagg responded, his tone devoid of enthusiasm.

"Great," Natasha muttered. She carefully adjusted the intensity of her Widow's Bites, meeting Clint's eyes for the barest of seconds. We're screwed.

Several hours of walking later, they reached the obelisk, but they still hadn't seen anything living. There weren't even bones or half-eaten meals lying around. Clint hoped that whatever had used to live here had simply moved to a nicer planet and became beatnik hippies. They took a break next to the stone, breaking out some of their rations. While they ate, Sif and Hogun considered the directions Thor had given them. "We'll need to go north-east for ten leagues, and then due north for another seven." Sif pulled out some sort of compass and studied it.

"Who do you think put this here?" Clint asked. His nose was almost pressed flat to the smooth, shiny surface of the stone as he squinted at the markings. It was like an optical illusion; when he let his vision go blurry, he could almost make sense of it.

"Who cares?" Fandral said. "It is hardly important to the task at hand."

Clint turned, his hands on his hips. "Doesn't it bother you that something on this planet was sentient enough to write a note? I mean, this is supposed to be Jurassic Park on steroids. But where are all the monsters?"

"Perhaps we are lucky enough to catch them hibernating?" Volstagg suggested.

"For all we know this thing could tell us a shortcut to the Cave of Wonders," Clint continued. "If it wasn't important, why bother to put it here in the first place?"

"Clint has a point. If something on this planet was smart enough to scratch a message into a rock, it could be dangerous," Natasha said.

"It would be a waste of time. We have directions, we don't need a shortcut," Sif insisted.

"Can any of you read it?" Steve asked. "Asgardians speak All-speak, right?"

Volstagg shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, but… this seems to be unreadable."

"Probably doesn't mean anything," Fandral said.

Steve grimaced, looking dissatisfied. He got to his feet, inspecting the ground and peering up at the trees. He paced from the stone to the edge of the clearing, turning around every step or so and squinting at the words. "Pr- par- paradise? Paradise is-" he murmured.

"A trap?" Natasha suggested, standing by his side. She tilted her head. "Paradise is a trap?"

"No. Yes? No, cage? Or- pit?" Steve shook his head, massaging his temple with one hand. "I think I'm getting a headache."

"Either way, it's saying all that glitters ain't gold," Clint said.

"There's more. I think." Natasha leant back on her heels, eyes nearly shut. "It looks like it's in different handwriting."

"How can you tell?"

"The first one is more consistent. The words are straight and precise, and they're nearly two inches deep. The second bit is more… scratchy and rushed." Natasha jerked her head away, her eyes falling closed. Clint was at her side in seconds.

"Are you okay?" he asked in an undertone.

"Fine. Don't worry about me," Natasha replied, shaking herself. She straightened up, pursing her lips. "There's something really off about this."

"You can't leave. I won't let you leave. You can't leave me," Hogun read, staring at the stone. He grimaced, shaking his head. "It appears to be a threat."

"Not you too," Sif complained. Hogun shrugged and her mouth twisted. "We're here to find Loki's son. Not study rocks."

"We're just curious," Clint said. "And now we know that something here is intelligent enough to write coherently. It may also be slightly psychotic. I don't know about you, but I like to know if there are any psychos around who might take a swing at me."

There was a tense silence as Clint and Sif stared one another down. "Have you ever tried Asgardian salmon, Steven?" Volstagg said loudly, offering Steve a pinkish square. "It's very good."

"Er, no. Thank you, Volstagg." Steve accepted the square, handing Volstagg a cracker in exchange. He glanced at the others before popping it into his mouth. "Hey. That is pretty good!"

Volstagg smiled, offering him another one. "I thought you might enjoy them."

"I think that is enough rest for now," Sif declared, throwing her pack on. "We don't know how long the light will last. Fandral, with me."

Steve, Clint, and Natasha traded looks. "I think we might have made her mad," Clint remarked.

"It isn't you," Hogun said.

"Then what is it?" Steve frowned. Hogun didn't reply, following the other two.

"I still think she doesn't like us," Clint said to Natasha as they moved off. Natasha nodded, thinking.

"So, this is the Cave of Wonders?" Clint was not impressed. They had walked for hours through weird terrain with the threat of attack hanging over them. The tension had built up in his shoulders and in the set of his jaw, keeping him on edge and suspicious of everything. And nothing had happened. There wasn't even a cat-scare they could all overreact to. All of that fear and anxiety had led to this; a literal hole in the wall.

Natasha seemed to agree with Clint. "Are we sure this is the right one? Didn't the warrior mark this place with stones?"

"The wildlife probably scattered them," Fandral said.

"Are we all going in?" Volstagg queried. He was eying the gap, doubting that he could fit into the small space.

"Yes. We need everyone. If Fenrir's in there, he might not be happy to see us," Sif replied with a shake of her head. "I'll go in first. Volstagg, you can go last. And," she added with a slight smirk, "if you do get stuck, we can always widen the tunnel."

Volstagg narrowed his eyes at her, grinning. "Good to know I have comrades willing undertake such an effort on my behalf."

Fandral shook his head with a smile. "Captain, if you'd like to go second, I'll follow you," he offered to Steve. Steve nodded, stepping up behind Sif.

"After you," he said. "I'll follow your lead."

"Will you?" Sif smiled, just slightly, and ducked into the tunnel entrance. Slowly the others trickled in, one at a time. Volstagg glanced around with a grimace before he followed Hogan inside, scrunching himself up as small as he could.

"So… did Thor say how long this tunnel is?" Clint asked, dodging a stalactite.

"No. But I can hear growling already, so it can't be far," Sif called back. "How are you faring Volstagg?"

"I think," Volstagg managed with a grunt, "I shall reserve judgement… until after I make it out."

Sif chuckled. She wound her way through the rocky tunnel with ease, though there was still the occasional "clunk" when her armour bumped against the stone. "Here we are," she said after nearly fifteen minutes of walking. "I can see a bit of light."

"Light?" Steve questioned. "What- Oh."

The cavern before them was huge. It stretched out into darkness, lit only by the soft, pink glow of crystals that sprung from the ground and ceiling. Water could be heard, but not seen, in the distance. There were plants of all kinds growing determinedly out of the harsh ground, bearing fruit and bulbous seeds. A half-hearted growl had them turning. Chains strained and creaked as a wolf larger than an elephant raised its head. He watched them warily; his intelligent eyes were alight with suspicion and misery. The crystals illuminated his thin, bedraggled appearance with a horrifying clarity.

"How could they," Natasha said angrily, her voice like the crack of a whip in the silence. She approached slowly, her eyes fixed on Fenrir's. It took effort not to stare at the injuries covering him – some of them were bleeding openly – and they had been worsened by malnutrition and dehydration. The worst were the sores that were obviously infected, tinged an unpleasant green and crusted over with pus. Carefully, she laid her hand on Fenrir's nose. "We're going to take you to your father, Fenrir. Don't worry."

"Volstagg, bring out your healing stones," Sif ordered, dropping her pack onto the floor. Fenrir whimpered, straining to back away. "It's all right, boy. I won't hurt you, I promise. I- I know your father. We're here to rescue you."

"Let's see if we can get that thing around his mouth off," Steve added. "Clint, can you and Nat go find some water? He needs to be cleaned up."

The pair nodded, gathering empty water skins and disappearing into the murky darkness. By the time they'd returned, Fenrir was no longer bleeding and eagerly eating the meat scraps Volstagg was feeding him. "He's much more agreeable than I expected," Fandral mused.

"I doubt anyone's been nice to him in a long time," Clint said. He passed one of the water skins to Steve, and then poured water onto a cloth. Gently and with a practised hand, he dabbed at Fenrir's skin. The wolf leaned into the touch, its eyes half-closing. "You like that, big guy? I know I'll want a bath after all of this. Maybe if I get Thor to do his puppy eyes thing at Tony, he'll build a big bathtub for you, and a ginormous rubber ducky. This'll work for now, though."

"He knows how to say 'can I pet your dog?' in pretty much every language," Natasha murmured to Steve.

"Every language?"

"I'm ninety percent sure he could write it in hieroglyphics if he had to." Natasha smiled fondly, her eyes darting over to Clint, who was keeping up a steady flow of commentary.

"He a fan of animals?" Steve asked, keeping his attention on clearing the muck from Fenrir's skin.

"I think… I think a lot of it comes from being very lonely. He spent most of his time around the circus animals when he was younger," Natasha confided. "And he tends to bring home strays. I'm proof of that."

Steve smiled. "He does seem to bring home quite a few kittens and puppies, doesn't he?"

"Yeah." Natasha brushed her hair away from her eyes. "Don't tell anyone what I told you, okay?"

"I'll die first."

"Don't you dare," Natasha warned, wringing out her cloth. "I mean it, you'll make Coulson cry. And when Coulson cries, Clint starts blubbering. The two of them are messy criers."

"You wouldn't? Cry for me, I mean."

"I would. After I killed whoever killed you."

"Thank you, Nat."

"That's what- what friends do, Cap. Well, it's what assassins do for their friends." Steve beamed at her, and were she a few years younger and a little less battle-hardened, she might have swooned. But she didn't, just let her lips kick up at the sides, and then went back to washing the sore, inflamed skin. "What do you think did this?"

"I don't know," Steve murmured. "It's too recent to have been done by any of the guys who dropped him off. I mean, some of them are still bleeding."

"Nothing living outside, creepy message on a rock, Fenrir freshly wounded inside a supposedly sealed cave. It's safe to say there's more here than dirt," Clint commented.

"I fear you might be right," Fandral said. He set down a large bowl of water at Fenrir's feet. "Here, boy. Rinse out your mouth, but do not swallow it."

Fenrir lowered his muzzle uncertainly, lapping at the water. When Fandral set down another bowl, this one empty, he looked confused. "Here, let me show you," Clint offered. He walked over to the first bowl and dunked his head into it. Sitting back, he gargled the water, swishing it about his mouth. Finally he spit it into the second bowl and sat back, grinning. "See? Now you try!"

Fenrir shook his head, trying to imitate Clint's motions. The water, once he finally spat it out, came back reddish-brown. Fandral sighed. "I think the boy needs his teeth cleaned," he said to Clint.

"I can do that, just promise not to bite me." Clint fetched more cloths from his back and a fresh water skin. Tipping it into the clean bowl, he added a small amount of toothpaste. "This should help freshen up your dog breath," he told Fenrir brightly. "Here, lay your head down and say 'aah' for me, would you?"

Fenrir, after a pause, did so. He tensed when Clint approached, but the archer merely patted his nose. Natasha made soothing sounds as she continued washing the wolf, keeping an eye on Clint. She trusted he knew what he was doing, but Clint always needed watching. Not watching him was just asking for trouble (or itching powder in your underwear). Steve, his water skin empty, joined Volstagg in heading to the river. "So, what're you cooking?" he asked, motioning to the large pot the other man was clutching to his chest.

"Just some soup. I'm hoping the pup will be able to keep that down, and it should warm him up," the bearded man told him. When they reached the shore, Steve looked for a pebble. Volstagg watched him curiously, his pot forgotten for the moment. Steve found one and tossed it into the darkness, listening intently. There was a 'plop' as it hit the water, nearly a minute after it had been thrown.

"I'm guessing there's no way out through there then," Steve mused.

"This must be more a lake than a river," Volstagg agreed. "Though, the water must come from somewhere."

Steve's eyes narrowed, his muscles tense. For a moment, a bare, shudder-inducing moment, he thought he saw something move. But there was no sound; there was no churning water to signify something was swimming to shore. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Let's get that soup started," he said, forcing a smile.

Volstagg raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't call attention to the abrupt subject change. They gathered their water in silence. "You know, I'm starting to get attached to this place," Volstagg said as they returned to Fenrir and the others. "I'll be sad to leave it.

Steve nodded. Frankly, he couldn't wait to get away from the cavern and the planet. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. Clint apparently shared his sentiments, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for Volstagg's pot of water to boil. "When are we going to leave?" he queried.

"Why? Are you feeling scared?" Sif grinned.

"Yes," Clint said. "Do you not feel how… weird this place is? And I don't mean weird; I mean weird-y McWeird weird."

Sif snorted, shaking her head. "It is only nerves. Forget them and focus on the task at hand."

"Look, I'm a veteran of creepy, fucked up shit. My weird-o-meter is top of the line. Right now it's pointing at the bat-shit insane 'get-the-fuck-out' end. I refuse to be the white guy in a horror movie walking into the abandoned hotel going 'hey, this place looks swell, I'm sure there's no angry ghosts waiting to butcher my ass!' I don't care if it makes me look like a chicken. I want to leave as soon as possible, but preferably before we die a horrible death."

Sif stared at Clint for a moment, arms crossed. She glanced to the others and then back again. "I suppose the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we're all home."

Steve stiffened as a squelching sound reached his ears. He turned, listening intently and staring into the darkness. Behind him, Fenrir began to growl and whine. Slowly, his heart thumping wildly against his ribs, he saw a shape moving through the darkness. It approached slowly, staying out of the light cast by the crystals. Without even seeing it, he knew it was bad news. "Guys?" he said, nearly choking.

"What the hell is that?" Clint frowned.

Steve shook his head, refusing to look away from where the shadow was crawling towards them. If he looked away it might disappear, and not knowing where it was would be worse than watching it. The way it moved was predatory, too graceful on legs and arms as long as tree branches. His skin felt ready to flee his body by the time it reached the light. In hindsight, he wished he had closed his eyes. The creature, whatever it was, was tall. Its skin was stretched tight over bone, pale and scarred. Jagged, stained teeth snapped together, its lipless mouth like a slash across the bottom half of its face. It had eyes like black holes, seemingly endless and dark and dangerous. The too-thin, too-long neck wobbled slightly every time it moved its head. At the sight of them, it's mouth widened and the clicking of its teeth quickened. "You cannot leave. I will not let you," it growled. "You cannot take what is mine."

"Holy shit," Clint squeaked, already notching an arrow. "What the fuck are you?

The creature tilted its head towards him, a rotted, slimy tongue flickering between its teeth. "Once called Grulsta. You smell like fresh flesh. Rip. Drip. Rip."

Sif took a deep breath, taking a step forward. "We have no quarrel with you. Allow us to leave in peace and there shall be no needless bloodshed," she told the creature firmly.

"Rip. Rip. Rip. Die. Bleed. Taste good," Grulsta muttered. "Kill. Kill you, eat you. Keep what is mine."

"Fenrir is not yours," Volstagg began, clutching his axe tightly. Before he could continue, Grulsta leapt at him, screeching. The blunt side of the axe hit Grulsta, and the force of the blow threw the creature off course.

Grulsta righted itself with a hiss, its head hanging at an odd angle. "MINE. MINE. Rip! Eat."

"Kill it!" Hawkeye shrieked, loosing an arrow directly into its chest. The creature tore it out, the wound disappearing without a trace. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit." Clint fumbled for another arrow, backing up. Grulsta scurried along on all fours, rushing towards Clint. Hogun grabbed the archer and hauled him back, out of reach. Fenrir snapped his teeth together, growling and barking and leaping towards Grulsta. The monster growled back, jagged nails raking the air. Fandral's sword sliced through the air, inches from where Grulsta had been crouching. It scampered back, towards the tunnel. The group encircled it, cutting it off from the shelter of the darkness. Sensing a trap, it barrelled forwards, aiming for Hawkeye once more. Clint fired off three arrows, but they did nothing to slow the creature down, and it landed on top of him. He struggled, straining to throw it off. Cap's shield caught it in the side, bouncing off its ribs with a sickening crunch, and it rolled into a crouch. Sif brought her sword down on Grulsta's back, cleaving the flesh down to the bone. For a moment, it lay still, face down in the dirt. Its eyes darted around wildly, jeering at them. It's hands tensed as it dragged itself towards Fenrir, it's back already healing.

"Cut off its head," Natasha ordered calmly, shooting Grulsta in the forehead. "Quickly."

Volstagg's axe came down on its thin neck, its head swept away. Clint picked it up with the tips of his fingers and dumped it in the fire. "Can we go home now, please?" he asked breathlessly.

Steve fell to the ground in exhaustion, his breaths stirring up the dirt. It felt like it had been hours since he'd last slept. His eyes were half closed and it took a lot of effort for him to stay awake. Clint coughed, leaning against a tree for support. It seemed, after the death of Grulsta, all the monsters they'd been missing out on had come out of the woodwork. They'd had to fight their way back to the Bifrost site, and barely escaped another barrage of nightmarish shark-like creatures capable of shredding armour with a single swipe of their claws by the time the rainbow bridge had swept them away. "Call Life Alert, we've got a senior citizen down," Clint huffed.

"I'd punch you but I might break my hip," Steve replied with a small smile. He could feel the aches settling into his muscles. The only thing keeping him from just sleeping right here was that if he did fall asleep Clint would do something unholy to him. The man carried a Sharpie like it was a weapon of mass destruction.

"How exactly would punching him break your hip?" Natasha asked. She was just as breathless as the other two, sprawled on her back on the grass. The Black Widow would never have allowed anyone to see her like this, but Natasha didn't mind her teammates knowing how human she was.

"I am a delicate, delicate man," Steve answered, rolling onto his back. Natasha giggled, her composure shattered by the utter terror still coursing through her. Clint snorted, pushing himself to his feet. The other four were doing better, having kept a solid grip on Fenrir. The giant wolfhound seemed delighted by the green of his surroundings, his nose pressed flat to the grass as he inhaled. The sky was bright and unclouded above them, and the trees swayed slowly in the breeze. It was likely he'd never seen such things before, or at least not for a very long time.

Sif stepped over to them, helping Romanoff to her feet. "It was a pleasure to fight by your side. You are quite skilled."

"Even though we remind you of Loki?" Natasha replied quietly.

Sif held her gaze, her expression neutral. "Yes. I apologise for my brusque attitude. It was unfair."

"It's fine. We reminded you of someone you had negative feelings for, who betrayed your trust. While it may have been irrational, it's understandable. It was a pleasure to fight by your side as well, Lady Sif," Natasha said. She held out her hand and, after a brief pause, Sif took it. They parted with a nod to one another.

"Question: How are we going to fit Fenrir into the tower?" Clint asked.

"I'll call Tony. He'll figure something out," Steve replied. "I'm sure an elephant-sized doggy door isn't beyond his capabilities."