A/N: Alright! So this took a little longer than expected, but that's alright, right? *hopeful smile* BSing science is harder than I thought. That's my explanation. I also partially blame the existence of the FMA fandom, for having so many 50k+ awesome stories.
Title: Fear of Infinity
Author: liketolaugh
Rating: T
Pairings: None
Genre: Drama/Adventure
Warnings: None
Summary: When Loki mentions two more Infinity Stones, aside from the Tesseract, that fell to Earth thousands of years before, the Avengers are thrown into a centuries-old war between Dark Matter and Innocence - also known as the stones of Mind and Soul.
Disclaimer: I only wish I owned D. Gray-man, and the Avengers are but a dream that is not my own.
"-if you simply consider the collective consciousness of-"
"-and we have to keep detailed records of the exorcists, since-"
"-just can't see what problem it has with Capsicle, he's like a righteous little ball of goodness-"
"Maybe something to do with resolve-"
"-count the Fallen Ones differently, what the hell do we do with them?"
"Fallen Ones?" Steve wondered aloud, glancing at Allen, who winced, hands pausing where they were shuffling a deck of cards yet again. Steve tried not to notice that several of them were bloodstained.
"Don't ask," Allen advised.
Steve shrugged and returned to sketching a careful outline of Allen, lounging comfortably on the steel examination table across from him, cards laid out across the table while he glanced up from them with his characteristic smile.
"That's really good," Allen commented with said smile, not moving from his position, which Steve was grateful for; it was more than Tony did when Steve was sketching him. "Do you practice a lot?"
"Whenever I can," Steve answered. "It's been a hobby of mine for years." He glanced up to Allen and smiled, too. "What about you? What do you like to do?"
Allen's smile softened into something wistful, almost sad. Steve flipped his pencil over and erased Allen's face, redrawing it as he listened. "I don't have a lot of time for it anymore, working for the Order, but my foster father taught me how to juggle." Glancing up at Steve, he added, painfully reminiscent, "He was a clown."
Steve gave him a smile, full of understanding and times-gone-by, and told him, "I learned to draw when I was little, because I was sick so often and couldn't play outside."
The soft-wistful expression faded away, folded up and put in a box, and Steve felt like cursing, glancing to his half-finished outline of the expression. When he looked back up, Allen was smiling normally again.
"You don't seem like the type to get sick easily, Captain," Allen commented, curious silver eyes on Steve as the man worked to catch the memory.
Steve chuckled. "I'm not, not anymore. The supersoldier serum fixed that." His own smile softened into a pensive expression much like Allen had worn moments before. "But when I was a kid, I wasn't strong enough to lift a kitten." Allen looked thoughtful at that, and Steve added, "What about you? Were you sick often?"
Allen laughed. "That wouldn't have gone over well! I could never really afford to." He shook his head, half grimacing. "I think my Innocence kept me healthy."
"What about before that?" Steve asked, pausing, pencil steady along one edge of Allen's right eye.
Allen tipped his head to give Steve a confused look. "Before that?" A moment later, comprehension dawned on his face and he smiled. "There was no before that. I've always had my Innocence."
Steve was confused. "But I thought-"
"Captain!"
The scientist with the thick glasses and bright smile hurried over to them. Steve looked up and offered Johnny a smile, which became slightly strained as he caught sight of the needle in his hand.
"Don't worry, Captain, it's not for you," Johnny assured the blond man. "Bruce wants to take a look at the Innocence in Allen's blood, and no one quite knows what happened to the last sample."
Allen grimaced slightly, but held out his arm regardless, a resigned expression decorating his face.
Meanwhile, Tony, Loki, and Reever were arguing.
"A simple energy source wouldn't be able to make choices," Tony pointed out. "Energy goes where energy goes, and all that."
"But it isn't a simple energy source," Loki pointed out, tone implying bad things about Tony's intelligence. "There is nothing simple about magic, Stark."
"There's no point arguing over whether or not Innocence can make decisions," Reever sighed, slightly exasperated, "because we have centuries of data that prove that it can."
Tony rolled his eyes and sat back. "Fine." He'd figured that out for himself, anyway. He could feel the soft, pleased hum of his own Innocence nestled in his chest, and he knew that there was no way that it was some simple energy source. It was too warm.
"Do you have a record of some sort?" Loki asked Reever.
Reever grimaced, seemingly subconsciously, and nodded.
"Fetch them," Loki ordered.
Reever grunted in reply and called, "65!" The ghost-shaped blob emerged from the seething crowd of science and looked at him inquisitively. "Go get the exorcist files, this one and the last one."
"Aw," 65 whined. "But I hate the exorcist files!"
"We all hate the exorcist files," Reever replied unsympathetically. "Go get them."
65 moaned piteously to himself and bobbed off, clearly sulking. Tony raised a hand into the air.
"Hey, just for, you know, curiosity's sake, why do we hate the exorcist files?"
"Because they're damn depressing," Reever mumbled. "Let's not think about those now. Maybe the Innocence needs human base vitals? Innocence is known to alter an exorcist's physiology. It might be reacting badly to the supersoldier serum."
"Alters their physiology, hm?" Loki murmured thoughtfully, mind working.
"Alters how?" Tony asked intently. "Strength, speed, sexiness?" He smirked slightly as Loki spared a moment to give him a disdainful look.
To his credit, Reever took it in stride. "Most of it's strength, speed, and durability. Your typical exorcist is fast enough to dodge a slightly slow bullet, strong enough to crack a stone wall, and can take blows that would fell a horse." His expression was grim as he added, "Anything less and they'd be dead."
Tony's Innocence gave a proud hum. Tony tried to decide whether to laugh or be alarmed. Eventually, he compromised and let out a snicker. Reever gave him a weary look, and Loki looked long-suffering. Tony looked innocently back.
"Stark," Loki deadpanned. "Refrain from teasing the Section Leader, if you will."
Tony pouted.
"I got the files, Reever," came 65's sulky voice.
"Great, give them to Loki and Stark," Reever said, busying himself with some anonymous papers.
The files landed with a disgruntled plop in front of Tony, who looked at them with undisguised curiosity. On the cover of the thin folder on top, it read, Exorcist Files 2000-2049. Out of curiosity, Tony lifted the thin folder to reveal the thicker one beneath, which read Exorcist Files 1950-1999.
"Those are the most recent exorcist files," Reever explained, carefully not looking at them. "Every exorcist that's arrived since 1950 should be in there, including all of those currently alive. We use those files for everything, from research and development to supply runs, so they're pretty detailed. Reverse order of arrival."
Tony 'hm'ed in acknowledgement and opened the newer file, while Loki stole the older one and started that.
The first page was of a kid Tony vaguely remembered seeing around headquarters, meticulously detailed and impersonal, with an impassive expression. Neatly written notes danced around his figure, noting body type, height, weight, and so on. Off to the side was a list of further statistics, everything from age to blood pressure to average calorie intake.
Slightly incredulous, Tony flipped to the next page, only to find more – detailed descriptions of his Innocence, fighting style, personality, personal habits, and even an outline of his known history.
Shaking his head, Tony looked up, a smirk on his lips and a quip on his tongue, only to be interrupted by a frowning Loki.
"What is this?" Loki asked, sounding more wary than anything.
Curious despite himself, Tony leaned over to look at the file Loki held. In his hands was another picture, this one different.
Instead of the impersonal drawings Tony had seen so far, this one was of a man with a wry smile, laughing as though despite himself, rendered in painstaking detail. According to the file, his name was Suman Dark, and he was dead.
Tony had a bad feeling about reading these files now.
Natasha and Clint were doing what they did best: Spying.
Not that they were being particularly discreet about it. In fact, the first thing they did was find Lenalee, the Chief's younger sister.
They found the green-haired girl talking with Jerry, helping him clean the dishes from that day's lunch. She was also, without faltering in her careful scrubbing, watching Jerry as he spoke, violet eyes intent and unwavering.
"I betcha if you went up to one of your boys with your eyes all wide, they'd do anything you liked," Jerry was saying, seemingly continuing a train of thought. "You're one of them, don't get me wrong, but don't let 'em forget you're a little lady, too, you hear?"
"I won't, Jerry," Lenalee agreed obediently. Then, without looking, she added, "Hi, Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Barton. Did you want something?"
Clint gave her an alarmed look (considering her back had been turned the entire time) but Natasha just nodded.
"Yes, in fact. Do you know where we can find your brother? He left the lab some time ago and no one is quite sure where he went."
"He's asleep right now," Lenalee informed them.
Lavi had told them that Lenalee had been in the kitchen since lunch. That was three hours ago.
Komui had left the lab two hours ago.
This place was bad for his sanity, Clint was sure of it.
"This is the guy in charge?" was what he said instead.
Lenalee's gaze shifted downward uncomfortably, and Jerry suddenly became inordinately interested in the plate in his hands. "Not… exactly," Lenalee hedged.
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "He's not?"
"Well… no," Lenalee admitted. "Brother… answers to the people in Central, and they answer to the Vatican." Softer, the circular motion of her arm pausing, "Theoretically, the chain of command ultimately leads to the Pope, but I don't think he really knows what goes on here." Looking up, she shot them a reassuring smile, resuming her activity. "But Central hasn't interfered since they sent Link here, so it's really just a passive surveillance operation now."
She smiled, and turned back to the sink, and her smile died. Clint looked at Jerry, who avoided his eyes, and then at Natasha, who was frowning. Clint agreed.
Something wasn't right here.
23 Days to Invasion
So that's done now. I hope you liked it, the people, since there wasn't a whole lot of action - progress, but not action. *shrug* I really, really want to know what you think. Also, they'll be stuck for a few days, so if there's any characters you'd like to see interact, let me know! *smile* Please review!