Chapter Summary: The Asgardians realize that Thor is in trouble. Steve reunites with an old "friend."

The Red Skull Arena

PenPatronus

Chapter 11

Red Sand

Even from behind, the telltale downward tilt of Heimdall's head told Lady Sif that he already knew what she was going to report. Though tempted to just return to her chambers without speaking to her friend, Sif ordered herself to cock her chin high and continue towards the guardian's perch. "Do you believe now?" she called to him. "Do you at least acknowledge what the rest of us do—that the Allfather is not behaving like himself?"

Heimdall withdrew his gaze from the Bifrost Bridge and slowly rotated to face her. "I am loyal to Odin," he reminded her in his rumbling voice. "No matter his…quirks. What man's character does not evolve in old age?"

"Quirks?" Sif folded her arms against her armored chest and spread her legs shoulder-length apart. "Perhaps you have been listening to the Midgardians for too long, old friend. And the Allfather's personality has not evolved. It transformed—swiftly—right after Thor returned to earth. Many of us can see it. Why can't you?"

Heimdall's eyes fixed on a violet nebula visible through the enormous window. "Thor left by his own volition. He wishes to be independent, to live his own life. What happens to him on earth is not our concern."

"Not our concern?" Sif kicked the golden arch and the sound vibrated through the hall. "Those mortals attacked Thor—you saw it yourself. They poisoned him and they separated him from Mjolnir. If that is not reason enough to go to Midgard to assist him, what is?"

"Odin forbids it. That is reason enough not to."

"So we just let those mortals keep him prisoner? Let him die?"

Heimdall blinked. "What would you have me do?"

Sif took a deep breath to calm herself. "Odin won't let me take a legion of warriors to rescue his son, but he never forbade me from going on my own. Open the Bifrost. Send me back to Midgard…Again."

Heimdall allowed a brief smile to pass across his lips. "Shall I reunite you with the one they call Coulson?"

Sif smiled. "You're watching him right now, aren't you?"

"He is working tirelessly to find and free Thor. He has not slept in many days."

"Sounds like he needs some help."

Heimdall nodded, conceding. "Indeed."


Watching helplessly while the unconscious Tony was released from his bonds and allowed to collapse face down in the red sand was, somehow, more frustrating to Steve than seeing his friend beaten. "This is how you treat prisoners of war?" he growled at The Superior, who could barely hear him over the final jeers from the Hydra agents as the arena audience emptied.

"This is how we treat our enemies," The Superior said with an extravagant shrug. "Would you like to see how we treat our traitors?"

"Steve?" Natasha called. She and the others were being dragged through a tunnel on the opposite side of the prison. "St—" She disappeared from sight along with Tony, Clint, Thor, and Bruce. Cap was alone.

"Double check his cuffs, Skinny," The Superior advised a tall, slim guard, who yanked Steve's wrists so far behind his back that his shoulder nearly popped out. "Can't have him trying to escape."

"Look at 'em, Sir," the guard said with an accent Steve couldn't identify. "Bloke can barely walk in a straight line. Won't be putting my week's pay on him."

The Superior marched ahead of them into the tunnel "You might after you see the state of his competition."

Steve stopped so suddenly that Skinny rear-ended him. "Competition? If you think you can make me fight someone just for the sake of fighting—just for your amusement—"

"What I think," The Superior growled, "is that you'll fight in self-defense. I simply have to provide someone you have to protect yourself from."

A room of cages nearly identical to the one the Avengers were being held in waited for Steve at the end of the hall. Strucker was already there, standing in the doorframe of an open cell. A figure huddled in the far corner under a thick blanket. "Are you sure about this?" the baron asked The Superior. "Would it not be more entertaining to reunite them in the arena?"

"It would be if I knew for sure they would try to kill each other," The Superior responded in a whisper that Steve's super-hearing could still decipher. "You've seen the security footage from the Smithsonian. He might remember him by now."

Skinny shoved Rogers into the cell and locked the door behind him. The figure in the corner stood slowly, shrugged off a tattered black blanket, and turned to face Steve. Lifeless, bloodshot eyes widened. Both gloved hands tightened into fists.

Steve's knees nearly gave out. He sagged back against the prison bars and gasped, "Bucky?"

Bucky Barnes bared his teeth, flexed his mechanical arm, crouched like a lion ready to pounce, and barreled towards Steve like a linebacker.


Natasha Romanoff hated peppermint. The Black Widow program always served peppermint rice krispie treats for dessert, so even the faintest whiff of it made Natasha's skin crawl and her stomach churn. Despite her several pleads (and multiple threats), Fury never switched the flavor of the SHIELD "bluff-mints" to cherry or tangerine. Therefore it was his fault, really, that Natasha nearly vomited when Grant Ward launched the candy into her mouth.

Once Natasha regained her composure she used her tongue to pin the large mint against her left cheek. She fought the urge to swallow the saliva filling her mouth, instead allowing it to drench and gradually wear away the hollow mint. No bubblegum or chocolate or burst of sour sugar waited for her. Instead she found a tiny ball of coiled metal. Expertly she used her teeth and tongue to reshape the quarter-inch string of smooth Vibranium flat, and then shove it in the tight space between two of her molars. Having Vibranium on her person was as good a bug as any. SHIELD knew that the Avengers were missing by now, which meant that every Stark Industries satellite in the skies was scanning the globe for telltale signs of them: the strange readings that only Thor's hammer gave off, the walking nuclear reactor that was Banner's irradiated blood, and the Vibranium that made up Cap's shield—and now Natasha's teeth. Even if that plan didn't work out, there were still a dozen ways that Natasha Romanoff could use the Vibranium as a tool or a weapon, or both.

The guards took the Avengers through a door on the opposite side of the arena. Natasha had been trained to notice everything, so she tried to memorize how many weapons she saw, how many exits, etcetera, but her attention kept returning to her teammates. Tony was a human bruise. Thor and Banner, also unconscious, made up the center of the pack, followed by Natasha and the stumbling, half-conscious Barton. Once they passed under the arch and out of the arena, trailing red sand brightened by their own blood, the guards took a sharp left. The unconscious Avengers were tossed into the pit in the floor, followed by Clint. Natasha anticipated a ten-foot drop. It was twenty. She landed on Hawkeye, driving his wounded shoulder into the dirt floor.

"Oh Clint, I'm sorry." Natasha rolled off her friend, then leaned over him and cupped his cheeks. "Clint? Clint!"

Barton's eyes fluttered. "Tasha, do you smell peppermint…?" His jaw quivered. He shuddered, went limp, and left Natasha all by herself.

To Be Continued