Chapter 21 - Grim

The splash was magnificent. Bruce was the first to break the surface, turning to Harry in shock. "This, again?You complete buffoon!"

Harry sighed as he shook his head, wiping his hair out of his eyes as he slowly paddled towards the shore. "Yes, blame me, not the one who knocked us off course!" He slogged onto land tiredly, glad that both his wand and pouch had safely made it through the ordeal. The same could not be said for his clothes, though, as he plucked a particularly odious-smelling water plant from his shoulder. "That's the last time I get that close to Sif while using a Portkey." He rubbed his stomach gingerly; that's where her elbow had caught him. "Ow."

Bruce spit out a mouthful of salt water as he too got onto shore, holding the now utterly drenched bathrobe that Harry had given him tightly around himself. He shivered violently as he looked back out over the water. "Wait, where is she, anyway?"

"I am here," Sif replied, and Harry blinked in surprise when he realized that she sat directly behind him, dangling her legs from a ridge, six feet up the cliff wall. She was also perfectly dry.

"So the one who sent us into the drink in the first place is the one who got out untouched?" Harry sighed at Sif's wicked smirk. "That was revenge for the flying, I take it?"

"The transportation method you use is not that different from travelling via the Bifrost." She jumped down from her perch in one quick movement, landing lightly on her feet. "I thought this was… fitting."

Harry muttered something uncomplimentary, but the fact that Bruce was smiling ruefully stopped him from saying too much. Right about now a little levity might be exactly what the doctor ordered. "I think we need to dry up before we meet the others. Tony will lynch us if we enter like wet dogs, especially since it's not the first time." He glared at Sif. "Let me guess, he told you about the pond incident?"

"It was quite amusing," Sif answered, smiling.

"Figured. Hold on, I'll take care of this." Harry swished his wand quickly, tapping himself on the head and doing the same to Bruce. The latter cried in surprise when his bathrobe began shaking itself dry by its own volition, and he was only barely capable of even keeping it on him while it did so. Harry shivered as his own clothes rippled with billows of steam as the water escaped into the air. He went from wet to the bone to uncomfortably warm in moments, and shivered at the sudden change. "Well, that ought to do it."

"Harry! Stop it!" Bruce exclaimed. Done with drying itself, the bathrobe was trying to rip itself free from its wearer to get to the sea. Doubtlessly it was going to try and dry that up too, if he didn't do anything about it. Harry just stared at the spectacle for a few moments before he had mercy on Bruce and ended the enchantment. The man glared, though it wasn't terribly malevolent. "Thank you. Never do it again, either!"

Harry smiled cheerily and was about to answer when a loud cough interrupted them.

"When you're done with your little pool party, you can join the adults," Tony's amplified voice said from above, and Harry figured it was some sort of loudspeaker. "By the way, Harry, I'd much rather you pulled that clothing trick with your other companion than with – Ow, Pepper! What was that for?"

Wandering into his room, Harry had trouble keeping the fatigue from showing. With everyone present there would be a meeting regarding A.I.M. soon enough, but he'd gotten permission to go put on some new clothes and he was going to use that to recharge. He could knock back a potion while he was here, hopefully counteracting the effects of an awful night's rest, and maybe do something about the fact that he looked terrible. He dropped down on the bed with a deep sigh.

Despite all the things that had gone wrong, he'd done it. Harry couldn't hold in a little smile. He'd gone out into the wilderness with the intent of helping Bruce, and things happened differently than he'd expected, that much was for sure. He certainly hadn't expected the memory, or the fact that Bruce's home life was considerably worse than his own had ever been. He could complain a lot about the Dursleys, but they'd never been vicious enough to attempt to kill him. The planned week of introspection and meditation, ideal tools for anger-management, hadn't really gotten off the ground. Applying the few practical aspects of proper Occlumency training had seemed like a good idea, but he supposed he'd done the equivalent of what Snape had done, if unintentionally. He'd dredged up the worst of the worst.

Harry could only come to one conclusion after his meeting with Bruce and the appearance of Brian's shade. Bruce's anger, his fury, had been locked away out of fear. The original reason must have been fear of his father, who would certainly have punished him for showing rage. He'd suppressed his anger somehow. Despite the incarceration of Brian in later years the damage was done, and Bruce had rejected that angry part of himself totally. On the rare occasion that it broke out he'd barely remember it, if at all, and just go on with his life. He'd already seen what triggered it, in the graveyard. Then the experiment happened, the accident, and it amplified what had been there already into something remarkable. Harry had no idea if it was that part of Bruce that saved him, or if somehow it had been the only one truly affected. The Hulk, after that, had become the new fear. Instead of just fearing his father, he now feared himself. That, consciously or not, was what unleashed his monstrous half.

Perhaps for the first time since the experiment, Bruce hadn't cared about the consequences at all. He'd been so emotionally distraught that he hadn't even thought to fear what might come of his anger, he'd just done it. He'd yelled and screamed. For once, he'd used those emotions like a normal person would, rather than shut them away, or be terrified of what they might lead to. The Hulk had remained dormant. Harry had no doubt that if Bruce had wanted to, he could have called on that intense power he'd gotten in the experiment; the Hulk wasn't gone. But – perhaps – Bruce had found a way to begin to control it. If he could learn not to fear that power, it might just stop being something he needed to fear.

Bruce learned something awful, knew at last what exactly happened in that graveyard. He'd closed a part of his past that he hadn't known was still an open wound. At the same time, perhaps, he'd give himself a new road into the future.

"All that without even an ounce of Liquid Luck," Harry said, smiling wryly. Sometimes he wished he had Felix Felicis for the tough moments. He supposed he'd have to make his own luck. He sank tiredly into the pillow, wondering what the next few days would be like – going back to the kind of fighting that he'd left behind years ago, outside those few occasions where it'd been necessary. He could be forced to use some of his nastier spells, if things came down to that. He'd do so, he was uncomfortably good at those spells after all, but he didn't know what he'd make of himself afterwards. He'd had a good reason to distance himself from that work in the first place, after all. Sighing deeply, his eyes fluttered shut.

There was a horrible tearing sound. The entire world shuddered under his feet. Vicious greens bled into silver, and strangely chilly air rolled over him, suffused with the stench of rotting flesh. Harry shuddered as he opened his eyes. For a few moments he had no idea what he was looking at. White rocks jutted far into the sky in twisted formations, taking on physically impossible forms that practically screamed that they were magical. Colours were oddly sharp and the spectrum of light was reflected in many shiny surfaces around him, like little rainbows everywhere you looked. High above him shone distant stars, though they intermingled and danced like real ones never would. Among them moved vast dark shapes, like fish just below the surface of a pond, and Harry averted his eyes without quite knowing why.

"Bloody hell," Harry exclaimed as he looked at his hand that was holding his wand. It was a dull and sickly-looking grey. His skin was pallid, bloodless, and even as he stretched he could clearly feel the bones move like he normally never did. If anything, it reminded Harry of Voldemort's hands, spindly and skeletal. Harry tried not to think about it as he stared into the distance. Majestic mountains, kilometres high, stretched towards the horizon. Rocky spires jutted out occasionally, and small streams of water cascaded down the sides, disappearing into deep valleys. Just looking at them gave Harry the chills. It was as if the water should've been ice, but inexplicably wasn't.

"Where… am I?" Harry said confusedly, raising his wand. The vast landscape was utterly bizarre – alien, even. For a moment he had the irrational urge to go down there to the plains in the distance. Then the urge passed, and he felt sick to his stomach. "What is this? Am I dreaming?"

"After a fashion."

Harry started and turned around with a spell ready on his lips. He faltered as he realized what was behind him, and gaped. He stood at the mouth of a gigantic cave entrance carved into the side of one of the impossibly tall mountains. Inside the darkness of the tunnel was something massive, gigantic, which breathed very slowly. It had to be a hundred feet tall or more, though the only things Harry could see were its gigantic gleaming teeth and the glittering metal of a massive chain. For a moment Harry tried to figure out what it could be. A dragon? A Cerberus, like Fluffy? Whatever it was, it was bigger than any of them.

"The wolf will not harm us," the voice said. It sounded female, though it had an odd grinding, cracking quality to it, as if stones were rubbed together while she was speaking. It was simultaneously frightening and oddly soothing, and Harry shivered involuntarily. It took him a moment to realize that the one who spoke was a figure that stood quite near to him in the shadows, cloaked all in black. "The creature is a guardian of this passage. Only those who travel through need fear its bite."

Harry swallowed thickly, clasping his wand tighter in his hand, ready to fire off a barrage of spells, even if this was just a dream. It felt far too chilling and real to be such. "Is it you again? The one who invaded my mind? I don't care much for this kind of nonsense, you know. Having one voice in my head is quite enough!"

The woman chuckled softly. She looked at him with a look that he could only describe as condescension, or perhaps pity. Right about now Harry really could've used Dumbledore's ever-present eloquence, he thought. The woman looked up at the starry sky, smiling wryly. "I care not for such things."

"You're not, I take it?" Harry concluded, sighing. "What is with my mind and everyone just tumbling in?" He shook his head in annoyance. "I really need to get back to practicing Occlumency…"

"Harry James Potter," the woman said suddenly, stepping out of the shadows. She raised her head and her face became visible. Like Harry's own in this place her skin was pale, almost translucent, and her lips coloured pale blue, like that of a corpse. Her eyes were milky white and Harry briefly thought she was blind – then those pale pupils focused on him. She frowned, then. "You have been doing what you ought not to."

"Really?" Harry slowly backed away as the woman came nearer, suddenly convinced that he shouldn't come too close, though he didn't know where the conviction came from. He felt the ice under his feet crunch and crack, as if he could slip through it into an endless sea at any moment. He stopped, glancing at his feet nervously, but things seemed solid enough. He smiled nervously. "I'm pretty sure I didn't break too many rules. Well, not important ones. I'm sure it was entirely accidental, whatever I did."

"You possess something that I desire," the woman said, narrowing her eyes. "Something that belongs to me, in the end." She shook her head slowly. "To do what you did, few have dared. To move around the workings of reality, to reach directly into that which should not be touched, that is not something that a mortal can be allowed to do."

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Harry said, but he thought back to that moment in the mountains, when Brian Banner had turned to him. The words the man had said at the end returned to him, and he shivered. 'She will know, now. If she comes for you, hewill follow.' The woman smiled tightly, nodding as if in response to his thought. Was this the person Brian had meant? What could a shade know about…

"I see that you have grasped it, now," She whispered. "To reach into that which is mine is to leave a part of oneself behind. You dared to cross that divide unflinchingly. The only reason that I did not rip you apart right then was your motive." She shook her head, turning away. "I expected selfishness, like most who tried in the past."

"You're…" Harry's eyes widened in terror as he glanced at the Elder Wand clasped in his fingers. "No, that's not possible, is it?"

"Yes. I am Death. I am the inevitable." The woman's face vanished for an instant, and there was nothing but cold bone under that hood, only a dead stare. Harry thought he should've felt revolted, but it actually seemed to be less so than before. The other face was like a doll's, a cheap mask.

His survival instincts kicked in, and Harry almost panicked as he scrambled back. "You're kidding me! I'm dead?"

"After a fashion," Death answered once more, shaking her head. The pale, human face was back, and her expression was, if anything, compassionate. "Your body still breathes in the world of the living, though your soul has found its way here, to Hel. I came to give you… an offer."

Hell? Harry shivered, looking around. He hadn't expected Hell to be like this, with huge mountains of ice and cold rivers. He'd expected fire and brimstone, like Uncle Vernon had once gleefully described the afterlife for people like him. This place gave him the creeps, and he couldn't help think of what it would mean if he had to stay here. He hadn't seen any people yet – would he be alone in a vast landscape that was completely empty? Perhaps it would indeed be a hell. He almost missed the second half of what the woman had said. He'd heard of a personified idea before, though he'd never given the idea credence. Death as a being, rather than an abstract concept, was a common theme in fairy tales, especially Wizarding ones. There was one tale in particular, though, that came immediately to mind.

"You want to barter something? Like you did with the Peverell brothers?" Harry asked at last. A deep chill ran within him for a moment, like the wind around him had passed right through. He stared at his pale, bony fingers that were still holding the wand. The object seemed to pulsate, as if sensing that it was close to its master. After a moment he frowned. That wasn't right. They belonged to him, now. He carried that title, the Master of Death.

"You have won Antioch's prize, the Wand," Death observed. "You have inherited the Cloak from Ignotus himself. Finally, you have been gifted the Stone, passed down from hand to hand since Cadmus." She paused for a long time. "You may keep those trinkets. Perhaps you are the one to find what their true purpose is." She frowned, then. "Your reckless use of one, though, put your soul on the brink of destruction. That is something even I will not condone. Death comes to all; it is not to be circumvented."

"I… thought I was using it right," Harry said hesitantly. He thought back to the previous times he'd summoned shades. What had he done wrong this time? Why was Brian Banner different? Was it because it was someone from this world, instead of his own? But then how did this figure know about the Peverell brothers?

"Death is universal," the figure said, as if in answer to his question. Harry wondered if she was reading his mind, since everyone else seemed to be doing that. She turned her pale eyes towards him. "What you have done is counter to the way things work. To take those who have died and return them to the living, however briefly, is a great power that can be abused very easily. In your existence, the one you fled from, there are no greater beings that would interfere. There are few higher forces that would take notice." She shook her head sadly. "Be glad that I do not easily take lives before their time, or you would have been purged the instant I knew what you carried. The risk is too great."

Harry gulped. "…What do you mean?"

"Existence has many great enemies," Death answered. "They would destroy all in their path. One of their only limitations, the only reason that they do not dominate, is the dominion of death." She glanced at Harry's wand warily. "To defeat death, to even have the potential to be its master, is a great danger to all. If these beings knew, your world would be trampled and scorched within an instant. The stars would die and the very core of your world would rise up to destroy you."

"I can't use it again, then." Harry said. He thought he should've been agitated, fearful even, but he couldn't summon the strength for any of that. He couldn't even feel his own heartbeat anymore. He meant to reach into his pouch, but the Resurrection Stone was already in his hand, as if moved there by thought alone. He stretched out his arm to Death. "Take it back, then, if it's that dangerous."

"You would give it back freely?" Death seemed amused by that, and turned aside. "I have already rejected the offer before, wizard. Your ancestor, Ignotus Peverell, offered to return my cloak, when he and I met for the final time. I allowed him to keep it then, and I will not change my decision now." She glanced at the Resurrection Stone again, shaking her head. "The Stone itself passes across what you might call the veil, to pull a single soul back from beyond. There is only one way in which such an anomaly can be hidden, one way in which reality can be kept in balance, and the Celestials kept at bay." She looked decidedly grim. "The answer is a life for a life, Harry Potter. For every soul you return, however briefly, I take another."

Harry's eyes widened in horror, and though he tried to protest, he couldn't manage it. His body felt heavy, like he was lugging around twice his weight, and he had trouble keeping his balance. His teeth chattered and he wondered if it was this place – this Hell – that was doing this to him. Was he freezing to death? While dead? "You'll kill random people just to make ends meet?"

"You have already summoned one soul," Death noted dispassionately. "You returned the soul of Brian Banner to a semblance of life, drew him back across. In that instant I took another life from another time and place to fill this role."

"NO!" Harry yelled, and he forced himself to step closer to the figure, shaking off the icy fatigue that was creeping up on him. "I won't let you kill people over something I didn't know! How could I know that you were here, changing the rules? If you have to kill someone… " He shook his head. "Please?"

Death looked decidedly unimpressed, even when Harry grabbed her by her robe. "I come to all in time, Harry Potter. I alone can say whether a life that is taken might be good or bad, for I am the only one who sees such possible paths. Tell me, wizard, would you fight so strongly if you knew that a hundred lives were spared by this single death?"

Harry hesitated. "Is that true?"

"What if that single death allowed for thousands of others to survive? What if, by preserving one life, many thousands might die in its wake?" Death shook her head slowly. "The consequences are mine to see, and the decision is mine to make. A life for a life, that is how it will be."

"Why would Death only kill those who are murderers?" Harry asked, and he thought that Death's expression looked downright disappointed for a moment, as if he'd completely misunderstood something. "I don't want to be responsible for something like that!"

"I do not desire death, as you seem to believe," Death answered, smirking at Harry's surprise. "Why would I desire something that is already my essence?" She waved her hand in the air and for a moment Harry saw an older, balding man with a content smile appear as if from smoke. His chest was covered in blood, though, and Harry knew who that had to be. It was the person he'd – he'd killed, helping Bruce. The image faded into nothingness again. "Perhaps, in time, you will understand."

"Who... was he?"

"A life for a life," Death said again, ignoring his question. She faded away very slowly, vanishing into the shadows. "We will meet again. All will meet me, in time." She turned, shaking her head. "It is unwise to attract my attention too often, as many have learnt already. My patience is not as eternal as my existence."

Harry tried to answer, but the world washed away, and he felt himself floating in one of the cold streams that flooded the valley, or maybe in all of them. He felt almost comfortable. He gazed up at the dancing stars and the vast mountains and wondered if this is what death was like. He hadn't seen a train this time, would he miss the Express? Well, he could float here for a while, he supposed. He didn't mind it so much, really.

Darkness overtook him, and he felt no more.

"So, how does one wake a wizard? Do you suppose he'd turn us into mice if we poked him with something pointy?"

"I do not know, but I would not recommend trying it."

Harry's thoughts wandered fuzzily to and fro, wondering who was speaking. The name 'Tony' occurred to him, but he'd forgotten why he was looking for a name.

"At least he's got brain activity again – I assume that's a good sign. Of course, there's a pretty good chance that he'll be tasting colours and muttering about purple dragons when he wakes up…" The voice paused for a moment. "In so far as he wasn't already."

"Synesthesia nor hallucinations are commonly reported among those formerly brain-dead, sir. For obvious reasons, I should think. Brain-death is generally considered the very definition of death."

"Hmmm, that's what you get when you're dealing with the impossible." He sighed. "You know, this guy's making me wonder about all sorts of philosophical things that I'd thought were pretty solidly solved already. If he's going to drag me into a debate about astral projection and the afterlife next, I'll probably start tearing out my hair."

That voice was familiar. Harry tried to open his eyes, struggling to wakefulness. He felt terrible, like he was covered with ten layers of blankets and swimming up through them to get to fresh air.

"Hold on, let me try the adrenaline thing again. Something tells me this guy will bounce right back from the stuff."

"You already gave him two doses, sir. Any more and he may display wild and erratic behaviour upon wakefulness. Or suffer cardiac arrest."

"Eh, been there, done that. Going for it."

The moment a small needle buried itself into his hand, Harry thrashed out of his bed with such suddenness and speed that Tony practically jumped a hole in the air, his arms stretched out defensively before him. Whether that was to protect his face or to blast it with repulsors Harry wasn't sure, and he was sort of glad Tony wasn't wearing the suit right that moment. Glass and something large and metal crashed to the ground as Harry shook his head. The needle dropped to the ground and Harry rubbed the spot where he'd been pricked. Voices and faces once again became a cohesive whole. The wizard blinked blearily as he realized he was back in his room, back in what had become his home of late. He sighed in relief, glancing back at the bed. He had dozed off, then.

"What in the name of the All-Father was all that noise?" Sif complained as she entered his room, and Harry blinked in consternation when he noticed that she was wearing a suit – a well-fitting suit that accentuated certain parts. Well, Tony's probably had a hand in designing it, that was for sure. Her hair hung around her head loosely and Harry shook his head.

"Why do you look… like that?" Harry asked, shaking his head as he tried to slow his thundering heart-beat.

"If that's the first thing he asks, I think he's okay," Tony said, smirking. He raised an eyebrow as he waved a hand in front of Harry's face. "You can still recognize people, and you probably weren't using the rest of your brain anyway. How do you feel?"

"What?" Harry turned and felt something on his head. He reached up removing something odd and bumpy from his head full of little electrodes and blinking lights. He'd ripped most of the connections into pieces when he'd shot up. "Ah, I think I destroyed your thingy." He tried to smile sheepishly, but it just came across as a grimace.

"That thingy was an expensive electroencephalograph to test for neural activity," Tony muttered, picking up what remained of it and dropping it again. "I use something similar in my helmet, actually. I don't know if you've been paying any attention while on your little jaunts into the ether, but you've been effectively comatose since you got back, and it's been a spot of trouble to keep the people downstairs from finding out. I thought you might've actually gone brain-dead for a minute there. Xena here remembered your unresponsive state when you were out there in the desert, and I thought I should wait it out. Figured it was a Gandalf-style sleeping with your eyes open thing. So, yeah, how are you doing?"

Harry untangled the last bits of the EEG machine from his hair, dropping them on the bed. "I … " He glanced down at his hand, relieved to find that they were healthy and pinkish, and his bones were no longer grinding against each other like he'd lost all his muscles. "I think I'm okay. I was… somewhere else, there."

He'd been unresponsive and effectively brain-dead, exactly the kind of traits that one expects in the victim of a Dementor. Death, the being that personified it, had said that it was his soul that was in that other place, that hell. It had really happened, then? He had seen what only the Peverells had, struck another deal with the very entity that they had met? His mind flashed back to the face she'd shown him, the older man that had died because of his action, because he had summoned Brian Banner's shade. His use of the Hallow had led to that, and from what he'd heard, he should be glad that only one person lost their life because of it. He couldn't tell that part to anyone, and certainly not to Bruce. He couldn't lay that guilt on a man who was only barely dealing with the guilt of another death. No, he'd have to bear this himself. Perhaps he could find out who he'd been, and do something for their family.

He was supposed to be the Master of Death, but here he was, unable to stop it. How could he claim a title like that when even using one of the Peverell items would cost the lives of those around him? If they could attract beings the likes of which even Death seemed wary about? The same being, perhaps, that Sif had already warned him about. Were they coming because he was a wizard, as the Asgardians seemed to believe, or because he was a very specific wizard? What exactly did the Deathly Hallows do that made them such a danger? Should he keep them, knowing that he might be luring the enemy to his doorstep?

Tony tapped him on the shoulder impatiently. "Still here, Wiz? Good. Now, get up, and put on something decent. There's about half a dozen people downstairs that are wondering if you crapped out on us five minutes before the mission, and at least two of them don't like you much anyway. I'd suggest getting on with it." He raised an eyebrow. "You will be there, right?"

"I will be right behind you. Wouldn't want to steal your thunder," Harry said tiredly, grasping a bottle of Invigoration Draught from his pouch. If what he'd just experienced had been real, then A.I.M. was a little ripple in the pond compared to the kind of things that were lurking out there. Would this little rag-tag collection of people be enough to stop something like that? Would all the wizards of his old world have been enough? He had no clue. He'd have to take it one step at a time. Hopefully they would all be ready before that became an issue. Hopefully he would be ready. He turned to Tony and raised his bottle. "I need a little pick-me-up first."

"I know that feeling," Tony responded, smiling thinly. "Don't be too surprised about all the people downstairs. Things are getting a little crowded, even in my spacious abode. After this is over I'm dragging you to the construction site in the Big Apple and putting you to work on that, since the tower needs to be finished soon, if we keep getting more people pitching in. I was thinking about putting 'Stark' on the sides. Do you suppose that'd fit?"

"Well, at least it'd match your ego." Harry swallowed a full dose of his Draught and for a moment his eyes bulged and he shivered all over. Strength returned to his muscles and Harry smiled happily as he bounced a few times on the balls of his feet. World-changing depressing thoughts could wait for later as they receded from him in the rush of energy. Right now he could bask in the feeling of accomplishment of getting Bruce back here, of actually managing to keep things together. When this threat was done for, Harry could start worrying about the next one.

His mind wandered momentarily back to the desert, to the man who'd taken the form of Voldemort. The being that he'd met, Death, had seemed amused about that. What did that mean? Did she think it was a joke? Did she think that whoever was involved was beneath her? Was it even proper to speak of a 'her'? He shivered despite himself.

"Ready to blow stuff up for peace?" Tony asked as he turned. "I know that I am..."

Harry smiled thinly, putting the tough questions aside. "Go. I'll follow."

"I'm supposed to work together with you?" Barton said, narrowing his eyes. "I don't know if you recall, but the last time that we met, you almost tore me limb from limb."

"I was quite agitated at the time," Bruce said neutrally. Though he looked perfectly calm, on the inside he could barely keep himself from snapping off an insult. The anger was too close to the surface, closer than it had been in a long time. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the Agent. "I also recall that one of your team shot me first. In the back."

Barton glanced at Natasha, who looked on with a bored expression, twirling a lock of red hair around her finger. She rolled her eyes at the two. "I think that we could all use a little chill pill, don't you think? Regardless of our past differences, this is a joint operation. You guys can get back to pestering each other later."

"You people have been following me for years," Bruce muttered sullenly. "You'd figure that if anyone had right to complain, it wouldn't be the likes of you. Before that day in the Brazilian forest you'd never even seen me, had you? You just knew the monster by reputation. It's still like that, really." He raised his stainless steel cup to his mouth staring at it momentarily. He squeezed. The cup fell to the ground, twisted, the metal bent through sheer physical strength. "Nobody seems to even consider that he's not the whole equation."

"That's quite enough of this bickering!" Director Nick Fury said, slapping his bare hand on the table. He glared at Barton. "Doctor Banner is here by my request, and he will be treated the same as everyone else. Remember, he is the nation's top-most expert in gamma-research, and that is exactly what we need right now. We must get started on setting up our game-plan, since the clock is ticking. Doctor?"

Bruce nodded, frowning. "I suppose I can get started now, then. The others will catch up." He nodded to Natasha and a slide popped up on the wall monitor. "I didn't have a lot of time, so you'll have to bear with a lot of equations and boring black and white pictures. He tried to smile, though it faltered quickly. "Well… the data that S.H.I.E.L.D. handed over indicates that we are dealing with three Gamma devices with a yield of at least twenty megatons each. The estimates range all the way up to fifty megatons, the level of the largest nuclear weapon ever detonated, above which a long-distance device becomes impractically cumbersome."

"For those of us who aren't physics majors, an analogy would be appreciated," Fury said blandly. "The Hiroshima bombing was how strong? Remind me."

"Sixteen kilotons," Bruce said simply, and he didn't miss how Barton straightened up and grimaced. "We're dealing with things that could literally be a thousands of times stronger than those bombs, large enough to permanently wipe a major city off the map." He gestured for the next slide. "The greatest risk is not the initial blast, though. As with any nuclear strike, radioactive fallout is a major issue. The effects of a successful hit would cover a substantial area of the country – up to a quarter – and make life effectively impossible within a range of at least a hundred kilometres or more, and with extreme risks of cancer or worse in the surrounding areas."

"These are country-killers," Fury summarized. "If they hit with even one, America's crippled. If they all hit there will be no United States anymore, since everything would be diverted towards damage control. A.I.M. is attempting to make the world a hostage. With Gamma bombs aimed at every major city on Earth, they'd effectively control their opposition."

"They're aiming at America because it's the military powerhouse of the world," Tony observed as he stepped into the room, straightening his tie. "Whether or not it's technologically deserving of that distinction, it's certainly the nation with the most hardware in use. If they can cripple us, they control the international arms market."

"The problem is, wherever these things land would be bad," Bruce added, shaking his head. "Whether it's San Fransisco or some obscure village in Chile, we'd end up with a major disaster that far eclipses anything nuclear that we've yet had."He got to the next slide, which showed obvious dispersal patterns over a map of the United States. "Even if they're shot down, we'd be dealing with a significant contamination, and you already know that unprotected humans will simply die in the vicinity of this stuff. The reasons that led to my – unique – reaction are presumably rare, but they could happen again, especially when a lot of people are exposed at once. I believe that one is quite enough."

"Can't we get a green woman, too?" Tony asked. "We could call her Orion. Star Trek conventions would go mad!" He shook his head. "None of the usual containment methods will work for these things - they're way too powerful to be stashed somewhere, and if one of them goes into its cascade while on the ground..."

"Mr. Stark," Fury said. "I was not informed that you were an expert on nuclear weapons now." He raised an eyebrow. "Doctor Banner?"

Tony shook his head dismissively. "I have been reading up on this gamma stuff for a few days now, I don't really need the newbie intro, no offense." He looked to Bruce and nodded. "I read your papers, by the way. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. Actually, I think we might be looking at something similar to that, possibly involving a cycled-"

"Gentlemen."

Tony turned, bemused. "Did you just interrupt me? Do you know what that can do a person's mental flow? Why, I could lose half a dozen ideas in the split second it takes me to readapt to the new verbal situa-"

"Mr. Stark," Fury barked. "Do you think this is a game?"

"I figured it was Missile Command," Tony quipped. "By the way, good job. I had the most amazing idea on how to achieve world peace, and you had to interrupt things with my name. That's one of the worst ways to break my flow, you know, since I always think someone's going to praise me for something I did, and I pay extra attention." He blinked, turning back to the slide on the screen which currently showed a damning picture of America mostly covered in concentric red, orange and yellow circles. "Well, that's looking cheerful."

"As I was saying," Bruce tried, frowning. "These three missiles, as they are now, can contaminate a far greater region with nuclear fallout than we can prepare for, and contaminated water could be just as dangerous."

"I proposed that we move the objects in question to high orbit by completely overpowering their normal propulsive power," Tony put in. "The Iron Man armour can potentially get one to the stratosphere, but no further. We're talking robotic, Jarvis-guided engines attached to their sides. That is, if the missiles are launched at all."

"We are not going to let that happen," Fury stated simply. "I requested the services of Agents Romanoff and Barton for several reasons. Firstly, you require someone on the inside to find out where the explosives are kept, and how much protection we can count on. We also need someone to sabotage the launch connections to prevent the ICBM's from getting off the ground. Finally, considering the eclectic nature of your little cabal, I asked for those with previous interaction."

"It's nice to see you two," Harry said as he entered. His eyes looked a little sunken but he dropped into a chair with a slight bounce nevertheless, betraying no fatigue. "Natasha, Clint – can I call you that, now that I'm no longer counter-stalking you? I figured I'd see you again, but not this quickly."

"Harry," Natasha said, glancing behind him to the doorway. "Are you going to introduce us?"

"Why has a locked door suddenly become a revolving one?" Fury muttered, glaring at Tony without much venom. "Who is this?"

"Sif of Asgard," Sif said, taking a place next to Harry. "I am here to protect the Seidmadr. Pleased to meet you all."

Harry shook his head. "The details aren't relevant for now. Suffice to say that if I'm going, she'll tag along."

Fury stared at the new arrival suspiciously, the at Harry. "If there were any time to spare, I would question your tendency to aggregate unknowns around yourself. I take it that she, too, is... of interest to us?"

"Ah, it can wait," Harry said, waving it off. "She just burst in one day, no warning. Well, I suppose she nearly speared Tony to a wall, which might qualify. Count on her to do some serious demolition and hand-to-hand if half the things she says are true."

"Sword-fighter?" Clint asked, looking speculatively at Sif. "I've seen a few who specialized like that, had the same kind of movements that you do. It's pretty distinctive." He shrugged. "I'm not one for up-close and personal myself. Prefer to shoot things before they've even noticed me."

"Which is why you are not the best to send out for interrogation missions," Natasha commented. "Remember that Italian? Shot him in the leg, figured he'd be fine. Next thing you know he trips in front of a train. Biggest piece that anyone found was an ear."

Harry winced. "Right, well, enough about that. We have six people here, that should be enough to put a stop to these things, right? Especially considering what kind of people we're talking about."

"True," Tony said. "I'd considered supervising the whole thing from here, but I think I'll leave that to the capable hands of the guy who already spends his days being a paranoid maniac with more guns under his control than all of Texas." He glanced at Fury, nodding. "The new suit's ready to go, and I'm going to fly it."

"Ah," Harry snapped his fingers and almost everyone tensed at the sudden noise. "That's what I was going to do when I got back, but things got a little side-tracked. You told me you had some trouble with the – whatsits again?"

"Thermal stabilizers," Tony answered. "Keeps me from burning my ass off in there with all the electronics."

"Right," Harry agreed. "I figured I can make sure they keep cool throughout, so that's not a big deal. Should conserve some electricity, right?"

"I'm shocked! Have you actually been reading my books?"

"Some," Harry admitted sheepishly. "The big ones are still impossibly complicated, though. Whoever thought of calling things actuators and resistors and whatever else?"

"If we can keep our focus on the here and now, please. Agents Barton and Romanoff will be handling the infiltration," Fury said after a moment, drawing everyone's attention again. "That will be the first wave, and if possible they will sabotage the launch systems. The second wave must be a single, quick move for the missiles. If we allow A.I.M. even ten minutes of time after the attack's discovered they'll fire those missiles and we'll be in a whole other mess. The attack must be decisive and small in number, as any large force would quickly get slogged down while individuals can slip in and out of detection. Especially if we have a distraction."

"Me," Bruce said, frowning. He looked at the screen for a long time, staring at a crude sketch of a hide-out entrenched between two mountains, with tunnels and tall structures against the hills. He glanced at Harry, nodding slowly. "I can do that."

"Tony and I will disembowel that facility very quickly," Harry said airily, tapping his screen to enlarge the crude drawing they had of the place. "I have a little something more than what you've already seen, if it becomes absolutely necessary. Problem is, though, we'll need some way to contain the damage. What do we do about the missiles while they're still on the ground?" Harry frowned, thinking of ways he knew to destroy things utterly, to leave not even ash behind. There was really only one thing that came to mind, and it had been years since he'd even tried that on the smallest scale. There was no way that would remain a secret. "My method is not very discreet."

"How about Portkeys?" Tony waved reached into his pocket, dangling a sock in the air. Fury, Natasha and Clint looked at him like he was a complete idiot, and Harry smirked as the man quickly put it back where it came from. "If we can toss those missiles somewhere nobody will miss them, like interstellar space…"

"I can't Portkey things to space," Harry said dryly.

"Finally, limits!" Tony exclaimed.

"It's because I've never been there," Harry amended. "I have no way of visualizing where things should go. Besides, how am I going to distinguish one bit of space from another? There's not supposed to be a lot around up there, right?"

"Another plan, then." Tony concluded. "Can you turn them into fish?"

"Possibly, but they look awfully big on the schematics. I don't want to accidentally set the things off while I'm fiddling with them. Besides, I don't think you want a swimming missile on the loose. It'd probably be a shark, too."He shivered.

"Your versatility and ability to break nature is surprisingly unhelpful in this case," Tony muttered. "Could you turn just the radioactive material into something else? I imagine a missile that hits and just blasts shaving cream over everything wouldn't be too horrible."

"I suppose," Harry said, unconvinced. "No fancy Muggle solutions? It is a fancy Muggle weapon, after all?" He turned to Sif. "How about the Asgard? Any possibility of help from there?"

"Doubtful," Sif answered simply. "The doings of Midgard are of little interest to any of my kin. Though I suppose a call for help could be attempted." She frowned. "I will send a message to Heimdall."

"Anything that might help," Harry said, nodding. "Considering I can make the missiles as light as air, if all else fails we could literally carry them out. It'll look comical, but I guess that S.H.I.E.L.D. might be able to defuse the things."

Clint finally had enough, leaning forward. "Are you two completely nuts?"

Harry glared at Clint. "You've seen me deflect a giant green fist in mid-air, blast things with invisible force and I just apparated back from Nevada, yet it's here that you get sceptical?"

"Several contingency solutions were put in place by S.H.I.E.L.D. planning, in the event that this team cannot solve the problem on their own," Fury said sharply. "If you cannot agree on a single one, then we will be forced to improvise, and that would probably be bad news for Chile."

"You wouldn't," Tony said, raising an eyebrow. "Detonating a nuclear warhead in Chile would effectively irradiate the west coast. If not immediately, then the Gamma-infected creatures will travel north, and there's millions of them. If there's even a few that react similarly to…" He glanced at Bruce. "Well, we'd be in a ton of trouble, especially when people start eating that stuff. Can you imagine having uncontrolled Gamma-experiments going on all over the place?"

"Think of a better solution, Stark. Find a way to make this work." He stared around to each of the six people who would be going. "Don't fuck it up."

"A broom. An honest-to-goodness flying broom," Tony said, staring at the floating piece of wood in confusion. "I shouldn't be surprised anymore, but I am." He tried to shove the broom down but it stayed stubbornly at hip-height, merrily disobeying gravity. "Remarkable, it's like it's stuck in mid-air… Is it quantum locked, except relative to the perfectly normal ground instead of a cooled superconductor?"

"I thought I'd told you that it was magic," Harry muttered, putting on the invisibility cloak with a flourish. He'd offered it to Natasha for her part of the mission since there it could do the most good, but she'd not taken the offer. He supposed that a cloak wasn't the greatest item for stealth since it got stuck on things and made noise, but he had spells to counteract such limitations. Natasha didn't, and presumably any advantage of being invisible would be overshadowed by being both clumsy and loud.

Harry reluctantly put the Resurrection Stone around his neck, set in its brooch. He wasn't going to use it, not without an incredibly good reason, but he wasn't going to hide it, either. He'd lost people before, he knew that it was more than likely that some would die today while he went out to defuse these bombs. He felt guilty over his role in the death of the old man that Death had showed him since he'd been personally responsible. He'd gotten used to living with guilt, though. It would only feed his anger. He could use that, now. That anger would make things a lot nastier, but also a lot easier.

"I'm fully stocked," Tony murmured, glancing at his suit that was hanging in pieces near the ceiling. "I can probably fire till morning and the circuits still won't burn out. Brilliant."

"I only have the one weapon," Harry said, twirling the Elder Wand around on his finger. "But I know how to use it."

"I'd hope so," Natasha said dryly as she looked speculatively at Harry's broom. "Are you sure you don't want a lift in the plane?"

"Too noisy," Tony answered first. "Can't hear my music in that tin can. This one's properly insulated so I can heard the full vocal ranges of some fantastic singers. It's heaven. Besides, who's going to blast the enemy to smithereens from inside a plane?"

"We'll be ready for any unwanted attention," Harry confirmed. "You keep an eye on Sif, will you? She's not terribly fond of this whole flying thing. I swear, she almost puked all over my-" He cringed, expecting a reprimand, though nothing came. "I suppose she's out of earshot. Believe me, that's a long way with her."

"I will see you topside, then. With your, eh, broom" Natasha turned, waving over her shoulder. "Don't slow this down any more, will you?"

Tony shook his head as he looked after her. Then he turned to Harry, frowning seriously. "Jarvis, turn off everything that's watching this room. I do mean everything." There was a soft beep and several of the screens in the walls powered down while the suit that hung in pieces from the ceiling shuddered lightly as Jarvis put it on halt.

"What was that for?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s a little too curious," Tony responded. "That's why I'm hacking their database, actually. Soon I'll have every bit of juicy information that the big black, bald leader guy wants to keep from us." He paused, frowning. "That's not what I want to talk about, though. I figured I'd ask you, since the big guy's being evasive. What the hell happened out there in the desert?"

"Ah." Harry paused. "We… had a talk," he said diplomatically. "It's sort of private."

"I heard about that," Tony replied, narrowing his eyes. "You had things in common, sang kumbaya together by the campfire or whatever, that kind of stuff. I know that's censored, and I want to know why."

"What about the word private do you not understand?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "What happened out there is between those who were present, and nobody else. Look, I know that this whole thing with us living here is weird and that you probably think that we're keeping secrets..."

"No kidding."

"You'll have to trust me a little, at least." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I think that Bruce, living out there in the Brazilian wilderness, was driving himself a little mad. Having people around who have barely any connection to his personal history and who aren't hunting him down is probably the equivalent of finding the Holy Grail. He told me some stuff – showed me some stuff – that I think he wouldn't have, normally. He certainly wouldn't want me to spread it around." He sighed. "I accidentally showed him something of my own history, something that wasn't pretty. I think that convinced him that I could understand at least a little of his own… early days. It all spiralled out of control from there."

Tony frowned. "I know that you wouldn't intentionally hurt people, but Bruce… he really does seem like he's had some kind of serious blow. Like he's still reeling from the impact of whatever you did."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Harry said. "He found a part of himself that was missing, I suppose. I don't know how much control he really has - but I know the Hulk will give all its got in smashing this base to little bits."

Tony just stared for a long moment, then nodded. "Right then, trust. Not a master at that, but I suppose I've got something to work at. Maybe when you've got the trust the other way around, you can tell me what really went on."

"Perhaps," Harry agreed. "Now, are there any part of this suit that you want to be unbreakable?"

Tony faltered. "You can make things unbreakable?"

Harry blinked owlishly. This was a familiar response. "Another vital engineering limitation that I just fixed with magic, I take it?"

Tony sputtered. "How do wizards not rule the world yet? There must be some with more than two braincells to rub together!"

Author's Note: Harry, Tony, Bruce, Sif, Natasha and Clint are ready to face off with A.I.M.'s forces, to prevent nuclear cataclysm. Meanwhile Harry's found that his use of the Hallows attracted something that he'd never taken seriously before. He's met her, and survived it - but then who is the hethat Brian Banner mentioned? What is really lurking out there, in the dark?

Next chapter has a makeshift team of Proto-Avengers kicking some asses and figuring out what these terrorist bastards are up to, while Harry has had enough of subtlety for the moment. Cheers. :)