Guys, I am SO sorry for the wait. My device crapped out on me and I have to retype all of my work onto my old laptop (and when I say old, I mean old) and I still haven't finished doing all of that yet. Plus because my laptop's so old it doesn't even connect to the internet so I have to use a flashdrive to transfer it to a different computer to upload…Anyway…enough of my excuses, here you go!
Celestial Glowhead – Thank you! I already have some plans laid out but I'm totally up for suggestions!
No matter how high and mighty he acted and how great his façade tended to be Sherlock could never cover up the fact that he was not a fan of overseas flights. He hadn't been across the pond in a long time, so when Phil Coulson showed up out of the blue and asked them to get on the next plane, both he and John were a bit taken off guard.
Nevertheless, the detective and the doctor complied and found themselves on the next flight to New York City. Coulson wouldn't tell them why they were going, just that they were headed to SHIELD.
When the three of them landed a vehicle was waiting for them. Inside the car was another agent. "Mr. Holmes. Doctor Watson." She stuck out her hand. "Agent Maria Hill." Both Londoners shook her hand in turn. "I'm glad you could make it."
Well we hardly had any choice in the matter," said Sherlock. "Agent Coulson has been keeping tabs on our schedules and movements – he knew the best time to bring us here."
Hill smiled a bit and shared a look with Coulson. "Well," Phil began, "I've been waiting on the reason for bringing you here for quite some time." Sherlock squinted suspiciously and the car pulled away from the airport. "You shouldn't be here more than a few days."
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The car pulled up to the curb outside an unsuspecting office building. Hill opened the door and Coulson was right behind. "If you could follow us, please." Sherlock and John got out of the car and the two SHIELD agents led them into the building.
As they entered, the detective and the blogger looked around at the enormous interior. "Welcome to SHIELD headquarters," Coulson introduced. John spun, taking in everything around them. Several agents were commuting in and out of the building as they walked by. "We haven't gotten back to helicarrier level yet because, technically, we don't exist; so we're sticking with office spaces on the ground."
"Hiding in plain sight," Sherlock mused.
The door opened again and two agents entered with a man cuffed between them. His restraints were larger and sturdier than normal handcuffs and had some form of switch on it out of reach. The man assessed the building and the people in it. This did not go unnoticed by the consulting detective.
Sherlock leaned closer to Hill and Coulson. "I'd keep an eye on him," he said, subtly gesturing to the man, "he's thinking of escaping."
Hill gave a brief chuckle. "I wouldn't worry about it."
The man jerked out of the grip of the agents and began beating them both back."
"Oh, I would," Sherlock shot back.
Hill burst into action, hand on her gun and sprinting over to the captive. Coulson soon followed. The man ran off from the two now-unconscious agents and, rather than making a break for the door, went to the nearest desk. An agent approached the man with a gun trained on him. The mutant rammed the cuffs into the corner of the desk, effectively disarming the restraints. He lifted his hand and with a flick of his wrist the agent disappeared in a whirlwind of light.
Hill dove behind another desk, trying to get a good shot from a safe distance. Sherlock looked around and assessed the situation, then realized there was no way out of said situation without direct confrontation – at least, the odds of that were extremely slim.
Sherlock ran off towards the mutant, leaving John standing in shock. "Sher-" Realizing there was no point in trying to stop the detective, the doctor hurried after his flatmate.
The man had his back turned and was taking out any agents in his way. Sherlock spotted the cuffs and went for them. The mutant whipped around just to be met with a war veteran's powerful punch. He went sprawling on the ground which bought Sherlock enough time to get the restraints and activate them. The man raised his hand, and in one last attempt of self-defense, sent the duo away in a portal of light.
The next thing the detective and the blogger knew, they were standing out on the streets. Before either of them could really gather themselves together, there was a large explosion too close for comfort.
The two of them were knocked down by the blast as dust and debris flew all around. Sherlock was the first one on his feet. "John, are you alright?"
"Yeah," John coughed, "yeah, I'm fine." He looked around in confusion. "What was that? Where are we?"
"Still in New York," Sherlock noted, looking at their surroundings, "but I think it's a matter of when are we."
John was about to question what he meant when there was a sound from overhead. Above them was an enormous portal leading into what just looked like an abyss. A machine zoomed by with a figure on top.
"Look out!"
Before either of the two Londoners could react, a figure came out from some of the debris and pulled them down. The three of them ducked and huddled. Blasts went off and guns were fired, but they went unharmed due to a shield over them.
Once the Chatauri flew on, their protector stood up, pulling away his shield. There stood Captain America in all his glory. "Are you alright?" he asked, hand outstretched as if to offer some form of comfort.
"Fine," Sherlock said quickly.
"T-Thank you," John stuttered, still in shock of seeing Captain freaking America right in front of him. "But…what's going on?"
"We're getting it under control but you need to get to safety," the Avenger ordered. "Follow me."
He led the others across the street, skillfully maneuvering the destroyed cars and Chatauri scouts. The three of them got to the other side where many civilians were huddled together. "You should be safe here," Captain America said. "Just don't leave until it's safe."
He turned to go back to his battle when John stopped him. "Wait!" The fellow soldier looked back over his shoulder. "Is it two thousand twelve?"
Steve gave a curt nod, not hiding the concern on his face very well. "Yes. Do you need medical attention?"
"No, it's alright, I'm a doctor. It's just-"
Sherlock jumped in. "It's fine." The Avenger nodded once again before taking off. Sherlock turned to his flatmate. "Obviously the power of the mutant that broke free was time travel."
John ran a hand over his face. "Well how do we get back?"
Sherlock stood silent for longer than John would have hoped. "Find the mutant."
"Who's to say he got sent back here too? You saw the way he got rid of those agents!"
It was evident that Sherlock was beginning to become frustrated. "I don't know!" Sherlock admitting he didn't know something? This was bad. "I don't…We will check the future SHIELD base." Sherlock began to calm down a bit as he formulated a plan. "If we can't find the mutant we will contact SHIELD."
"Sherlock, we've been thrown a good five years in the past. They won't know who we are!"
"Then I'll figure something out!"
The two of them noticed that some of the other civilians were staring so Sherlock lowered his voice to a hushed tone. "We don't have a lot to go on right now, so let's start with what we do have." John nodded. "The base shouldn't be more than a few blocks from here."
With a plan in mind, the two took off out of the building. A few people called after them saying it was too dangerous but they didn't heed their warnings. They weren't too far from the future SHIELD base but there were still Chatauri fighters to avoid. They ducked behind wrecked cars each time on passed, nearly getting hit far too many times.
After passing down the street tensely, the two reached the someday-to-be base. They ran inside to find it totally abandoned. John's heart dropped. Were they stuck? Could they actually be stuck in the past? Sure, things could have been a lot worse than just five years, but the best option was getting home.
"Ah," came a voice, "my associate said you would be joining me soon." The two Brits turned and spotted a man by the windows staring out across the landscape of destruction. He was not the mutant who had sent them back to the Battle of New York, but he was the only one in the building and he seemed all too nonchalant about the city collapsing around him.
Sherlock wasted no time. "Who are you?"
The man turned around to face the detective and grinned. "I told my man not to interfere with the timeline too much, but there are only so many significant time we could meet without being disturbed." He turned back to the window.
John shook his head. "So this was all because you wanted to talk?"
The man shrugged. "I suppose you could say that."
"You're from our time." Sherlock did not say this as a question.
"I am," said the man with a nod. He looked around the city. "I realize this may be slightly inconvenient for you, but I needed you to see what hatred for the unknown does to the human race." He turned around casually. "Had there been good communication between the gifted and the…normal people…maybe this could have been avoided."
"And you?" Sherlock questioned. "Are you…gifted?"
The man grinned. "That is to stay classified." There was a blast outside and terrified screams. The man didn't even flinch. "Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson, I ask you don't meddle in problems that aren't your own."
"And these mutants we've been helping are a problem you want to cover up?" John asked heatedly.
The man shook his head. "Not at all! The mutants are not the problem, Doctor Watson, the others are. Those who are unable to see the true gifts they hold are the problems – mainly their inability to see these gifted friends as something more than monsters."
"So why is it your problem?" Sherlock asked.
The man sighed and rolled up the sleeve to his suit. On his arm, just like the others, was a tattoo of the SIP symbol. "I am Director Williams. I am in charge of SIP, or Superhuman Integration Program."
"Let me guess," Sherlock drawled, "you intend to normalize mutants?"
The man nodded. "Well, yes, that just about sums it up."
"No," Sherlock muttered, shaking his head. "No, there's something else – something more."
The man looked at his watch. "Well, I'm afraid that's all the time I get with you." Beside the two Londoners a portal appeared. "Please do mind your own issues and not those of someone else."
Hesitantly, Sherlock turned away from the SIP director and stepped through.
When he and John came out on the other side they found themselves in the SHIELD base once again. The mutant who'd caused the whole fiasco was sat in a chair, held down by three large agents. Coulson and Hill stood by looking visibly relieved as the two men stepped through. As soon as Sherlock and John were clear of the portal Hill clasped the cuffs over the mutant's wrists and the portal disappeared.
Coulson looked the two up and down. "I assume I need to debrief you two."
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Coulson sat across from the blogger and detective. "The Battle of New York?"
"Yes," replied Sherlock with mild irritation.
"Why would he bring you there?"
"He said something about seeing what hatred for, er, the unknown did to the human race," John answered.
Coulson leaned back in his chair. "If anything this proves the point I've been trying to make to Director Fury for the last several months." He stood and, right on cue, the door opened and in walked Director Fury.
Fury looked over the three of them, having a particular stare down with Sherlock. "Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson," he said with a nod, "I'm Director Fury. Mr. Holmes, you've been on SHIELD's radar for years, which is why Agent Anderson has been stationed within Scotland Yard." Sherlock scoffed and Fury shot him a look before continuing. "However, I had Agent Coulson here keep tabs on you two ever since Holmes here began tearing down James Moriarty's web during his absence."
"You know he was alive too?" John asked, more out of frustration than anger at this point, he was so done with being the only one who didn't know.
"Not for certain. We only heard whispers, but we never really believed he was dead. Once he reappeared in London with Moriarty's network just about completely dismantled we knew we had to keep a closer eye on you and we knew that you would be a valuable asset to SHIELD." Fury reached into his coat pocket and took out two items. "We now see that you're of more importance to this organization than we originally thought." Fury slid the two objects over to Sherlock and John.
John slowly accepted the item and opened the flap. His eyes went wide. Sherlock casually flipped his open, having already deduced what was happening.
Coulson grinned. "Welcome to SHIELD, Agent Watson and Agent Homes."
John stared at the badge in his hands in disbelief. "This says level three."
Agent Coulson nodded. "It took some convincing," he glanced at Fury, "but we realized that you two have been helping out SHIELD much more than any level one agent." He shrugged. "I fought for level four, but the highest level Avenger is an eight if that helps with your perspective."
John sat in silence – he didn't even know where to start. "…Thank you."
"No," said Coulson, "thank you. Both of you."
Fury turned toward Coulson. "I assume you can take it from here?"
"Yessir," said Coulson. Fury gave a respectful nod to Sherlock and John before exiting.
"I'm not wearing the uniform," Sherlock said suddenly.
Couslon couldn't help but chuckle. "You don't have to…Yet. However, it is standard procedure that we give it to you. In fact, we should probably get started on that. Agent Holmes, Agent Watson, if you would follow me – there are a few things we need to brief you on. Don't worry, you should both be back at Baker Street by the end of the week."
Sherlock and John stood, following Coulson out of the room. John glanced over at the badge in Sherlock's hands. "I guess you won't need to be stealing Lestrade's IDs now. 'm pretty sure we now outrank him."
"I've always outranked him. And no, I will still be needing Scotland Yard IDs."
"I'm sure SHIELD could make you some of your own if you asked nicely."
Sherlock scoffed. "Please, that would be illegal." The two of them couldn't help but snicker.
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