Avenge
"I must admit, team, that went a lot better than I expected. Good job," Fury said once the Avengers returned with the five supervillains and Bruce in tow. He looked over them upon their arrival and nodded approvingly at what he saw.
"And you didn't even have to commit callous vandalism to get them to work together, either," Coulson added unhelpfully.
Fury just looked at him. "You really need to let that go, Coulson." Coulson just shrugged.
It really had gone a lot better then he thought it would. The majority of them, basically everyone besides four, were used to working by themselves. For them to come together and kind of operate as a team was good to see.
He said kind of, because there was still work to be done. They still only fought as individuals who just so happened to be on the same team. At the same time, they worked together when needed, and that was what he was looking for. He wasn't expecting them to be the original Avengers on the first day; though he wouldn't have argued if they wanted to try anyway.
After spending a few moments debriefing with them, he left swiftly, and intended to head to his office. That was, until Bucky was the first one out. "Agent Barnes, a word?" His face soured, but he nodded and followed silently. Bringing Bucky into SHIELD was Rogers' idea, all the way. While he wasn't exactly for it, he and SHIELD weren't in the best place to try and change his mind. For as iffy as he was on it, no one could deny just how valuable Barnes had become. Wetworks was hell on a man's soul, but he quickly became one of the best.
When Rogers handed him a letter three weeks ago stating that he was to give it to Barnes should something happen to Rogers, he was surprised. He was even more surprised when he actually read the letter last week. He wanted Barnes to be the next Captain America! His main reason was that the team needed a Captain America. As vain and conceited as that sounded upon reading it the first time, he was right. Cap had become the most popular of the Avengers over the last year. He was a war hero, a living legend. He legitimized them as the best of the best. Seeing the stars and stripes and that shield inspired hope in the masses.
Seeing him killed inspired despair among those same people. The team didn't need a new Captain America; the world did.
Once they reached his office, he closed the door shut. "James, I couldn't help but notice that you're wearing your SHIELD outfit." He didn't reply, but the deep inhale told that he heard him loud and clear. "We talked about this."
"I told you no."
"And I told you that it wasn't up to you, but Steve wanted this."
"He doesn't know what he's talking about."
Fury sighed and sat at his desk. "I'll admit that he's a much better judge of character than we are. He sees something in you that you can't." He shrugged. "Just trust him. Who knows, you may learn to like it." Besides, he could tell just how much using the moniker 'Winter Soldier' was killing him. A change of identity would do the guy good.
That was, apparently, all the convincing he needed. "Fine. But I'm not wearing that shit Coulson came up with."
Fury smiled. "We'll have someone draw you up something else."
"Deal."
After he left, Fury sighed and pressed a button in his phone. "Tell Agents Hand and May that I need to speak with them. Thanks."
Minutes later, Hand was first to walk in. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
He nodded. "Just wanted to see what you thought of your new assets." Before she could reply, May walked in and closed the door behind her. "Just a second, Melinda."
"I think," Hand replied, "they can work. But we have a few problems." He gestured for her to elaborate. "While the team can work, they're woefully lacking in power. The Wrecking Crew and Songbird are pretty low on the totem pole, so we got lucky. Still, Barnes and Morse are going to be a liability against the stronger villains. Parker and Rand, while stronger and faster, aren't going to help much once we hit the big guns. Unless you plan on milking Rambeau for more than she's worth, we're going to be starving for power. Banner is potentially uncontrollable and who knows where Maximoff's head is right now. Not to mention that we still have no counter for the Enchantress and her magic. Plus, now that they apparently have the other Maximoff on their side; that makes now two magical sources that we can't possibly hope to counter."
Fury nodded in agreement with everything she said. It was all in line with what he feared and kind of hoped wouldn't be exposed so quickly. The team was under-powered; and against the team with not one, but two magic powerhouses plus a thunder god, it wasn't looking good already. "We now have Walters," he offered.
"True. I wasn't anticipating Walters showing her true color so soon, but she only makes up for so much and still can't do anything but punch things. That only takes us so far."
"They're the best we got right now. There are more powerful metas out there, yes, but there's no way we'll find them in time." He tapped his finger on his chin. A light of recognition sparked in his eye. "What about Van Dyne and Lang?"
"What about them?" May asked, sounding like she already knew where he was going.
"They're civilians, Director," Hand added, not even bothering with the run around.
"It's a week or so, this side's time, until our next mission."'
"Sir," she protested.
"We'll hone their powers a lot in a week's time…"
"Sir."
"We can added SHIELD training to the -"
"Sir,'" she said with more force.
"- training Hydra already gave them. Lang looked pretty adept at his powers already, as did Van Dyne."
"They're civilians, sir. They need to stay here, and then be safely escorted home once this is all over. They aren't cut out for this work," May retorted.
"What hero was when they first started out? I seem to recall a pair of green agents come out of the Academy and go on to become two of the most respected agents we have." He smirked when they sighed. "Had Director Carter said that you two weren't cut out for this job when she first laid eyes on you, then neither of you would be standing here trying to stop two people from making a difference. Just give her a chance."
Because, that was what it came down to. Van Dyne hadn't seen action before, but Lang had. Push came down to shove, they'd acquiesce on him, but not her. He was trying to give the kid a chance to be something special.
"She won't take this seriously," May said quietly. "She'll think this is all a joke, even subconsciously, until someone gets killed. Then what?"
"She won't." He reached into his desk and pulled out a laminated piece of paper. It was an obituary. For Vernon Van Dyne. "She sees this, everything changes."
"When did this happen?" Hand asked as she eyed the article.
"The day she was kidnapped. Hydra agent took him out when he refused to hand over his extraterrestrial communication technology. That was the reason she was taken in the first place, as ransom. He wouldn't budge, and he was taken out." He sighed heavily. "He called me an hour before he was killed and told me to take the tech and hide it somewhere. And to find his daughter. I've done both; now, I'm giving her a chance to avenge him."
May's face relaxed a little. "She'll need an SO."
"I was hoping that you would do it." She nodded. "We have a week. Make sure she's capable by then."
"And Lang?"
"I think he'll jump at the opportunity to redeem himself in his daughter's eyes. He shouldn't be an issue." He stood from his desk, obituary in hand. "Now, the hard part. May." He walked out, May behind him.
It was the worst part of his job, telling someone, agent, civilian or otherwise, of the death of a loved one. He made a lot of those phone calls during the weeks following the crash of the helicarrier, to the point that he couldn't sleep. The hardest so far was telling Bella Collier, Coulson's cellist girlfriend, that he had died before the Battle of Manhattan. Somehow, he figured that this was going to be a lot harder.
It wasn't hard to find her. She was, as she always had been, wherever Pym was. Luckily, Lang was there, as well. "Ms. Van Dyne, may I speak with you alone?" Pym gave him an suspicious look for a long moment before nodding and getting up to leave.
"Mr. Lang," May said when he passed her, "may I have a word?"
Fury closed the door to give both conversations a measure of privacy. Janet was sitting at a table full of science supplies; breakers, petri dishes, microscopes and flasks filled with who knew what on Bunsen burners laid strewn across the table before her. She, of course, was sitting cross legged and filing her nails, with a pair of goggles resting around her neck. She was a walking oxymoron. "What can I do for you, Mr. Fury?"
It was then that he remembered what he was doing there. He didn't answer for a long moment, mostly because he was mentally debating himself on how to go about this. If he offered a spot on the Avengers and then told her about her father's death, it would've seemed like he was trying to manipulate her into joining. On the other hand, doing the reverse just might have gotten him the results he was looking for. Even still, she might not have listened. Worth a shot. "Ms. Van Dyne, this isn't easy for me to say, so I'll just come right out with it." He looked up at her and saw her warm brown eyes staring at him within a sea of anticipation. "Your father was killed."
He could see it coming, like slow motion. Her face shifted from confusion, to shock, to disbelief, and then to heart wrenching sorrow all in a matter of minutes. Red crept and filled her eyes as tears welled within them. "What?" she choked out.
To prove his point, he pulled the obituary from his pocket and placed it in front of her. Her eyes drifted down and saw his smiling picture above the paragraphs. "N-no!" Like a waterfall, tears fell from her eyes before she covered her face. Her shoulders shook raggedly from the force of her weeps. Anything she could say came out as a jumble of barely muted words and sorrowful expressions.
Nick Fury wasn't an emotional man, at least not on this end of the spectrum. He watched Janet weep and bawl with the stoic silence of a military officer. He had seen and heard this scene so many times, that it was like an unwanted second nature. It was almost ten minutes before she calmed down enough for him to speak. "I am so sorry, Janet," he offered quietly. "Vernon was a dear friend of mine. If there was any way I could reverse this, then I -"
"How?" she barked. "How did this happen?"
He swallowed. "The day Hydra kidnapped you, they tried to use your capture as leverage to force him to give them his invention. He refused." His expression didn't change. She was still tearful. The anger would come later, he figured. "If there's anything you need or what from me, my door is always open." With that, he patted her softly in the shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, and then walked out.
He walked passed May and Lang, who heard Van Dyne weeping and immediately looked to him for an explanation. When he kept walking, he turned to May. "What happened?"
"Her father was killed," she answered succintly.
"…oh no. Is she going to be okay?"
Fury grimaced. He returned to his office and let out a huge exhale. Sometimes, the job got tougher than it was worth. Sometimes, he wondered why he even bothered to go on. Then, he remembered. There were forces out there that were just waiting for him to pack it up and go home. And not all of them wore outlandish costumes and masks. The most dangerous ones wore tailored suits.
It was almost three in the morning, Eastern Standard time before Fury bothered to finish his work. Lang agreed without issue to join the team, as did Walters. Good; they would have been a big help. Van Dyne was still up in the air. He went ahead and filled out the paperwork for her to join as well, and then shelved it just in case.
He was just about to get some sleep in preparation of a long day of team exercises when a knock came at his door. "Come in." It was Van Dyne. She looked like shit. Her eyes were red and puffy and her hair was wild and unkempt. She also looked angry. Very angry. "What can I do for you, Ms, Van Dyne?"
"Is that offer still on the table? I need your help." Her voice was low and grave, a far cry from earlier that day.
"What do you need to do?"
Her eyes narrowed and flashed with the flames of vengeance. "Avenge him."
