Steve hadn't moved from the beach for hours. He was aware of everything going on around him- but he just felt stuck. It was like he was watching a movie, a tragedy happening to someone else. He'd watched Bucky run full tilt into the ocean, his lover diving desperately into the waves as he searched for Rose, silver eyes half mad as he cried her name. He'd been going under longer and longer, until it looked like he'd accidentally drown himself in his search.
It had taken both Jane and Thor to get him out of the water.
Even now he could hear him yelling, arguing with anyone who would listen, vehemently stating that he needed to get back in the water- that he had to find their girl.
She wasn't dead.
She wasn't.
Steve thought he should get up and comfort him…but he just couldn't move.
He just sat kneeling in the red stained sand, watching as the blood was slowly pulled back out to sea.
Steve could recall being frozen like this exactly two other times. The first time, had been when he'd watched Bucky fall from the train. Even now, he could recall every detail- the cold air on his skin as he hung to the side of the train, the look on Bucky's face as he disappeared, how close he had come to his hand.
(He can still feel her hand in his- small and cool, with a callous on her middle finger from her writing. He loved her hands, loved tracing the fragile digits and the little crooks from where she'd broken them. He'd had her- she was right there- he'd had her).
The second time, had been when he had been literally frozen. He'd said goodbye to another love, and watched the water come rushing in. He hadn't really had time to process anything, just welcomed the freezing crush of the ocean and the peace it promised him. No regrets. No failures. Just sleep and, if he was lucky, a chance to see Bucky again.
(There had been nothing peaceful about this ocean. There had been no gentle decent into sleep for his love. He'd heard her pain- could still hear her pain. He didn't think he'd ever really hear anything else again. She'd called his name, begged for him to save her with her eyes and he'd failed. He'd failed again. He could save the god damn world but he couldn't save the people he loved-)
He was frozen now- frozen again by the ocean and by his pain. It's like he's in his own personal hell, the two worst days of his life meshing in a beautiful nightmare.
Bucky was still screaming.
He idly noticed that the sun was starting to go down.
They should have been cooped up inside, sequestered in one of the guest houses Stark had set aside for them. They should have been making love, finally showing their girl how they felt about her, learning every inch of her skin and letting her learn them in return. They'd been building up to it all week, wanting to make it special- as special as she was. He'd been looking forward to seeing what she looked like with only that bracelet on.
Now he just had the bracelet.
He starred at it absently, running his fingers over the broken chain and taking in the rose-gold flower in the slowly fading light. He turned it over in his hands, tracing the etching they'd had inscribed on the bottom of the rose- an inscription that she'd never been able to read.
Till' the end of the line and whatever comes after. SGR&JBB
"Steve." The blond blinked blearily, half-heartedly wiping at the tears he'd only just noticed falling from his eyes. At some point, Darcy had come to sit beside him, face red and eyes pale blue from the strength of her distress. Now that she had his attention, she spoke again, voice choked with her own tears. "Steve, we should go inside." When he just stared at her she fidgeted in place, playing with the straps of her beach bag. "Stark is scanning everything and Athena is trying to figure out the magic- there's nothing we can do here." The idea of leaving sent a bolt of panic through him, the jolt of emotion finally giving him the ability to speak.
"I can't, Darcy." Her face twisted up in frustration and confusion, her pain making her more short tempered than she usually was. Before she could snap at him, he continued. "I can't leave her, Darcy- I can't go inside. What if she comes back? What if she-?" He sucked in a sharp breath, the noise more of a sob than a sigh. "She was so scared, Darcy." The brunette made a wounded noise, slapping her hands over her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to force back her own sobs. After a moment she composed herself, taking a deep breath as she forced back her grief.
"I know- but she's not…She's not here, Steve. She's not coming back." The blond turned to face her for the first time, sky colored eyes wide and lost as they took in her face. The anguish in his eyes nearly shattered what little control Darcy had, forcing her to close her eyes before she broke into tears again. "She can't swim. And even if she could, whatever…" She hesitated on the verbiage, not quite ready to admit what she knew to be true. "…took her, made it so she couldn't." Steve made an anguished noise, Rose's screams echoing in his ears. "We need to go inside and—"
Inside Darcy's bag, her phone begins to ring.
Both of them focus on the bag, their faces varying mixes of confusion and grief. Steve was confused because he'd never heard that particular ring tone from her phone. It was some sort of fantasy horn, blasting in threes. Darcy was confused for an entirely different reason. The ringtone itself was familiar- it was "the horn of Gondor" calling for aid. It was meant to be connected to an emergency line Darcy had Athena set up, one that only one person would be able to get through.
One person that she'd just watch die.
More than a little baffled, Darcy hesitantly reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. Blaring at her was a number she'd never seen before, though she was pretty sure that the area code was a Florida one. She tentatively answered the call, pressing the phone up against her ear.
"Who is this? And how did you get this number?" There was a relieved noise on the other end and then a woman's voice spoke, the voice both achingly familiar and jarringly different.
"Darcy! Thank god- I wasn't sure you'd pick up the phone. And, let me tell you, it has been a hell of a day." Darcy made a strangled noise, pulling the phone back and gaping at it in shock. On the other end, "Rose" continued to babble, saying something about "turtles" and "Hawaiian Thor" and "sand in unbelievable places". Unable to handle anymore, Darcy barked into the phone.
"Rose!" The name echoes down the beach like a gun shot, every head whipping around to focus on the brunette and her conversation. Next to her, Steve shoots up like he's been struck by lightning, back ram rod straight and hands clasped like he was just barely stopping himself from snatching the phone out of her hand. Teeth gritted, Darcy continued, voice heavy with suspicion and rage. "Or whatever the fuck you are- how did you get this number?" There was a pause on the other end and then the woman's voice came again, tone much more hesitant.
"It's Rose, Darcy." Before the brunette could start irately shouting, "Rose" continued. "Listen, I know this is hard to believe, considering I just did my very best 'Jaws' impersonation, but it is me. I can prove it! Like, when you told me about your wolfy powers! I called you 'werewolf Arwen'!" Darcy sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide as she slapped a startled hand over her mouth.
The only two people who knew about that conversation were her and Rosie.
The voice paused, seemingly waiting for a response. When none came, it spoke again, voice soft and just the slightest bit sad.
"Ask Steve and Bucky….ask them if they've kept their promise. Ask them if they're 'done' with me." As soon as the plea left the woman's mouth, Steve and Bucky were both moving, diving to get the phone out of Darcy's hand. As he was closer, Steve managed to grab it first, yanking the device out of Darcy's shocked hands and desperately pressing the phone to his ear.
"Rosie! Baby doll! Are you okay? Where are you?" "Rose" sucked in a breath, letting out a relieved sob before speaking again, voice choked with tears.
"Steve- Steve- I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to scare you- I don't know what happened-" Steve cut her off, voice taking on a soothing edge, like he was trying to calm a spooked animal.
"Angel none of that matters. Just answer the questions. Where are you and are you okay?" Rose paused again and then, with a tone of voice he wasn't quite sure what to make of, replied.
"I'm pretty sure I'm on a beach in Florida. And the 'okay' bit is…going to be harder to explain." She cleared her throat and continued, sounding extremely embarrassed. "Just- can you have Darcy pack me some clothes?"
-_-_-_-Page-Break-_-_-_-_
Tony ran his hand agitatedly over his goatee, eyeing the two soldiers pacing at the back of the quinjet with poorly concealed anxiety. Next to him, Thor was equally as anxious, though he was doing a much better job of concealing it. They had tried to get the two to stay behind, maybe let someone a little more objective decide if this "Rose" was the real one, but neither of them could be dissuaded. It was either they came with them on the jet, or both of them were swimming to Florida.
Tony just hoped this didn't blow up in their faces.
Don't get him wrong, he was just as hopeful as anyone that their little blonde was still alive- but he also knew how dangerous blind hope could be. None of them were quite sure what had happened to her in the first place. From what he had seen of magic, it was entirely possible that some thing was using the kid as a meat puppet. He desperately wanted her to be alive (he didn't think the sound of her screaming would ever really leave him), but he wasn't going to be fooled by the monster of the week either.
Thor had the same reservations that Tony did. He, on more than one occasion, had seen what magic was capable of. Changelings, shapeshifters, a gifted sorcerer- all could recreate a loved one. With Hera on the loose, it was entirely possible that his friend was dead and something insidious had taken her place. To what end, he wasn't sure. Rose had integrated herself with the entirety of the Avengers and also had access to all of their research. Either of those would be a tempting target.
It could be also be just to cause them pain.
As it was, both men had insisted on accompanying the soldiers to pick up "Rose", partly as back up and partly to test the possible imposter themselves.
"So, Point Break." Thor hummed, arms crossed as he watched his comrades reluctantly arm themselves. It had taken no little amount of persuasion to get the men to prepare themselves for battle. In the end, it was the assertion that if it truly was Rose, she wouldn't mind them protecting themselves that had convinced them to don their gear. Tony quickly put the jet into autopilot, trusting JARVIS to land them safely. "Any thoughts before we land? Magical pearls of wisdom?" Thor frowned, bending down to pick up the hammer resting at his feet.
"Only one. If this is, as we fear, only a shade of our friend, it is entirely possible that we will lose all three of them." Tony frowned, the mask of nonchalance he'd been trying to wear disappearing as he eyed his desperate friends. He could vividly recall the moment he'd thought Pepper had died, slipping from his grasp and falling into fire. It had been an agony worse than any pain he'd received in Afghanistan, a pain that had surpassed the visceral and attached itself to his soul.
If the Pepper that had returned to him had just been something wearing her face? Something he'd be forced to kill? It would have driven him mad- killed him in every way except for the physical, though he thinks his meat would have probably followed soon after.
Steve and Bucky had the faces of desperate men- men who had tasted hope, and couldn't bear the thought of it being anything else.
Tony just hoped it wasn't poison.
The quinjet gave an awkward lurch as it landed, the gears struggling just a tiny bit in the sand. After the phone call, Tony had managed to trace the call to a beach off the coast of Florida- a little place called "Sanibel Island". It was an eco-tourist trap, a place more popular for its sea shells and beaches than anything else. Based on his research, he had idly thought it would be a nice spot to visit one day.
It looked like today was shaping up to be "one day".
There was a hydraulic hiss as the back of the jet opened.
About a dozen feet away from the jet, two people were sitting on the beach. Both were remarkable, though for entirely different reasons. The first was probably one of the most massive men any of them had seen. He was well over six feet tall and massively, muscularly built. His long, curly brown hair was in a topknot on his head, thick brows set in a scowl as he eyed the sand displaced by the jet. He was half naked, board shorts hung low on his hips with dozens of tribal tattoos across his chest and arms (Tony kind of understood why "Rose" had called him "Hawaiian Thor"- only their Thor didn't have a massive scar across his eye or look like he ate nails for breakfast). Once all four men were standing outside the jet, he nudged the dozing woman next to him, muttering something under his breath. Whatever he said caused her to shoot up, whipping around to face them with a beaming grin on her face. All four men sucked in a sharp breath.
She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman any of them had ever seen.
The woman was downright dainty next to the giant man, her long, golden blonde hair curling enticingly down her shoulders and back. Her full lips were set in an ecstatic smile, faint dimples appearing on her heart shaped face. In the setting sun, her Irish golden skin glimmered like actual gold, the apples of her cheeks just as pink as her heart shaped lips.
She was also completely naked- all except for a cheap dolphin towel draped across her shapely form.
Before any of them could do more than gape, the blonde hopped to her feet, awkwardly clutching the towel to her body as she bounced in place, waving ecstatically at them.
"Steve! Bucky! Look at how tall I am!" The two in question sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of her voice, achingly familiar, but lacking the wheeze that they'd become so fond of. Steve took a staggering step forward but was stopped by Thor's hand on his chest. The blond glared at him, silently asking what the hell the other man was doing. The thunder god shook his head, eyes darting between the woman and his trembling friends.
"Hold steady, Steven. It may sound like our Rose, but there is no guarantee that this-" He was cut off when the blonde woman, still hopping and waving in place, promptly tripped over her own feet and slammed face first into the sand with a high pitched yelp. There was a moment of silence as everyone took in the woman sprawled across the beach, angrily grumbling to herself as she tried to stand up again without accidentally stepping on her hair (and failing miserably). After a particularly loud and angry curse (Thor wasn't exactly sure what a "cock goblin" was, but he was rather terrified of finding out) the Asgardian dropped his hand to slap it over his mouth, desperately fighting back hysterical laughter. "Never mind. That's her." As soon as the affirmation left his mouth, the soldiers were off, booking it across the sand and leaving a trail of their weapons in their wake. Bucky was the first to reach her, making a running dive across the beach like a batter sliding into first base. He only had time to yank her into his lap before Steve slammed into both of them, knocking them back into the sand in an ungainly pile of limbs. Now sandwiched between them, Rose let out a breathless chuckle, periwinkle blue eyes sparkling as she absently tugged at the towel just barely covering her.
"I missed you too." She'd just barely finished speaking when Bucky suddenly yanked her up and pressed a desperate kiss against her mouth. Rose immediately melted into him, eyes squeezing shut in bliss as liquid heat, warm and tantalizingly familiar coursed through her veins, hands reaching up to tangle in the dark tresses of his hair.
She thinks she would have gladly stayed there, were it not for the tears.
She feels them, warm and wet on her face- and decidedly not her own. She pulls back, confused at the sensation, only to suck in a sharp breath when she sees where they're coming from.
Bucky's crying.
She has never seen him cry.
She knows he has- had seen the evidence on more than one occasion- but he's never cried in front of her. She thinks that may be because he thought he had to be strong for her, or some antiquated form of masculinity, but whatever it is, it's disappeared, washed away by the absolute flood of emotions he's experiencing. The brunet is all but sobbing, silver eyes squeezed shut as he presses his head into the crook of her neck, breaths shaky as he desperately takes in her scent.
Bucky…Bucky was overwhelmed. Grief and joy, gratitude and agony, love and despair- all competing for a spot in his head. He had thought he had known pain, that he and it were long friends, married by circumstance and design.
He had been wrong.
Hearing her scream? Watching the agony on her face as her blood coated the sand? He would have gladly spent another decade in the damn chair just to get that memory out of his head. As it was, he'd convinced himself that she was alive- that she had to be alive. Because the other option? That was unacceptable. No- it was unimaginable. She'd become another light in his life, a warm, soft place for him to rest his head and his heart. Without her, the world became an uglier place, harsh and sharp in unbearable ways. He'd have Steve, and they'd survive, but her loss would have crippled him again, tearing off something vital and leaving him to bleed until their lives inevitably ended.
Seeing her now? Hearing her voice? Smelling that same warm, peach scent? He hadn't been this grateful for anything in a long god damn time. His gratitude burst the dam he'd built around his emotions, the anger and denial he'd been using to hold himself together shattering like glass as he clasped her close.
Steve was just as overwhelmed as his lover, arms grasped tightly around them both as he pressed his tear soaked cheeks into Rose's now long hair. Dazed by their emotional display, Rose did her best to comfort them both, petting whatever parts of them she could reach from her squished position between them and whispering soothing nonsense. After several long moments, the soldiers finally began to calm down. Bucky reluctantly pulled back to scan her face, taking in her new features with a puzzled expression.
"Baby doll, not that I'm complaining, but what the hell happened?"
-_-_-_-Page-Break-_-_-_-_
Two Hours Earlier
As Steve sits numb in the sand, hundreds of miles off shore, Rose died.
More accurately, Rose died- and was reborn.
Like all births, it is not a gentle process. The sea rips her to shreds, tearing her down to her very atoms as she is remade in the foam. Rose is aware through all of it, screaming without a voice and praying for an end to her suffering. She writhes and is tossed about by the waves, spinning endlessly until she has no idea which way is up and which way is down. She thinks she should be drowning, but the water never suffocates her. Instead, it paradoxically burns her, searing her into ashes and then making something else in its stead. The pain goes on and on and on, lasting until she's almost sure that she's been dragged into hell itself.
Then, as quickly as it had started, the pain stops.
Rose breathes. And breathes. And breathes. God, had she ever breathed so deeply in her whole life? She can't recall. The sudden absence of pain is, in itself, a kind of ecstasy, her nerves positively singing as she takes in the sensations around her. She can feel every grain of sand pressed into the front of her body, the gentle caress of the ocean against her calves, the heat of the sun against her back; she can smell the ocean, hear the scuttling of crabs miles down the shore. She takes it all in, her senses spinning wildly as she struggles to assimilate the sudden influx of sensation. She thinks she should open her eyes, but is abruptly too exhausted to do more than contemplate the notion.
She passes out.
She wakes up a second time to the feel of a bare foot nudging her in the hip.
"Hey lady." The voice is a rumbling baritone, the tone a mixture of concern and irritation. Rose groaned in response, flapping her hand to halfheartedly wave off the man annoying her. The male voice snorted, the concern in his voice disappearing. "Good. You aren't dead. Would you mind getting your drunk ass up then? This is a sea turtle nesting area. You can't have nap time here." Rose lazily sat up, blinking blearily at the large man towering over her while idly pushing her long hair out of her face. A gentle breeze helped the process, pushing the locks back while gently caressing her bare chest.
Her brain made a screeching noise, not unlike a car slamming on its brakes.
Wait a god damn second-
Since when do I have long hair?
Yeah, that's interesting but, and this is just a little more pressing, am I fucking naked?!
Rose shot up, letting out an alarmed squeak and slapped her hands over her bare chest. Above her, the giant man let out an impressed whistle, dark eyes twinkling with amusement.
"That's some rack, lady. Must have been a hell of a party." Rose flushed brilliantly, glancing down in baffled wonderment at said "rack".
I mean, he's not wrong. It is a pretty awesome rack- we won't be beating Darcy any time soon, but we're no longer the president of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee.
Can we focus for ten god damn seconds!? We're still fucking naked, we're who-knows-where, and we just got brutally mauled by the god damn ocean!
It's like the thought flips a switch because Rose is suddenly bawling, curling up into a ball and hiding her face in her knees as she wails. Her tears immediately wipe the amusement off the large man's face, something like panic appearing in his expression as he curses.
"Shit- okay! I'm assuming this wasn't 'lol it's summer vacay let's get naked' naked?" Rose gave a tiny nod, still sobbing into her knees. The tattooed man cursed again before darting away, heading into the trees at the border of the beach. He returned seconds later, a battered backpack in one hand and an old beach towel in the other. He quickly but gently placed the towel around her shoulders before sitting down across from her, deliberately making himself as small as possible. Clutching the towel to herself, Rose desperately tried to calm down, taking in several deep breaths as her mind raced. After about a minute her breathing evened out, shoulders relaxing as she scrubbed the tears from her face. The tattooed man pursed his lips, eyeing her critically.
"You okay now?" Rose gave a hesitant nod. The dark haired man sighed in relief, running his hand down his bearded face. "Awesome. Why don't we try this again? I'm Jason- Dr. Jason Iona." Rose hesitantly whispered her name, periwinkle blue eyes cautiously scanning the much larger man. He shifted underneath her scrutiny, trying to make himself appear as relaxed as possible so as to not spook the clearly rattled woman. "Do you mind telling me what happened?"
Shit.
Yeah, what are we supposed to say? "My necklace exploded and gave me a wicked tattoo then the sea fucking ate me"?
I would really rather not end the day in a loony bin, please and thank you.
She settled on a half-truth, saying she'd been attacked at a party and couldn't remember anything after that. As Rose was generally terrible at lying, the man looked like he only half believed her, but decided not to comment on the fact. Before he could start questioning her, Rose decided to ask her own question.
"Where exactly am I? The last I remember I was on a beach in the Bahamas." The man winced, running an anxious hand down his face.
"Yeah, you're definitely not in the Bahamas. More like several hundred miles north- little place called Sanibel Island, just off the coast of Florida." The blonde felt all of the blood drain out of her face, swaying in place as shock smacked her upside the head. Jason lurched forward, hovering an anxious hand over her skin as he mentally argued with himself over the prudency of touching a naked, clearly traumatized woman. Thankfully he didn't have to as Rose just barely managed to compose herself, swallowing dryly before setting her shoulders determinately.
"Right. Okay." She took a deep breath, forcefully quieting the anxiety churning in her gut. "Do you have a phone I can borrow? I need to make a phone call."
-_-_-_-Page-Break-_-_-_-_
Present
Now back at the beach house, Rose shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, wedged securely between her two boyfriends. The rest of the Avengers (plus Sammy and Athena) were spread out across the living room, perched on furniture or leaning against the walls. Each of them was listening to her story with rapt attention, analyzing everything she said while privately coming to their own conclusions. Unused to the attention, Rose fidgeted, idly playing with the edges of one of Bucky's shirt. As she'd grown about four inches, no one was entirely sure that her clothes would actually fit. As such, the brunet had taken the opportunity to shove the tiny blonde into his clothes, looking inordinately pleased to do so.
Rose was just happy to not be naked anymore.
"After I spoke to you guys," Rose continued, "I just sat with Dr. Iona and waited to be picked up." She idly traced the rose-gold swan tattoo resting just above her heart. "He kept me calm. Told me about his work with sea turtles- which was why he was on the beach in the first place. I apparently washed up on a Loggerhead nesting ground." Said man, now handcuffed and sitting on a very tiny stool, scoffed with irritation.
"Yeah, which you jackasses disturbed by landing a god damn jet on." When everyone turned to face him, the massive man rolled his eyes, giving everyone a sarcastic wave. "Yeah, still here. And, as 'Birth of Venus' has so eloquently stated, clearly not a god damn villain. So could somebody please un-cuff me? Maybe take me back to my damn truck? Or, at the very least, Florida?" When no one moved he huffed in agitation, going to cross his arms but quickly giving up when it appeared the cuffs were in the way. Instead, he absently rubbed at his chest, scowling in a way that should have been terrifying, but ended up coming across more like a toddler pouting over not getting a toy. "Could I at least get a shirt then? My nips are so hard I could cut diamonds with them." To Rose's shock, Wanda unexpectedly let out a loud snort of laughter, slapping her hands over her mouth when everyone gave her a wide eyed look. The brunette just shrugged in response, eyes crinkled with barely restrained mirth.
"What? He's funny." Before anyone could reply she continued. "And also telling the truth- or at least as much as I can tell. He's a researcher with the University of Hawai'i and, as Rose said, he was there monitoring the turtle nests." Jason gave her a small, nearly dirty smile in response, eyeing the witch with gleaming eyes. Wanda flushed scarlet in response, giving the scientist a similar (if much more innocent) look in response.
"Damn right, little lady. And who might you be-?" Jason was cut off when Pietro suddenly appeared in front of him, arms crossed and an angry scowl on his face.
"None of that, turtle man." There was a blur and then the scientist was free, blinking in shock at his unexpectedly bare wrists. Before he could say anything else, Pietro hauled him to his feet, dragging the much larger man to the door as quickly as he could. "Time for you to go. Stark! Barton! Someone needs to come pilot the jet, or else our new friend is swimming back to the States." The archer, looking terribly amused by the speedster's overprotection, pressed a kiss into Darcy's head and then obligingly followed behind them. Tony followed along as well- though not to fly the plane.
He felt the sudden urge to fund whatever research the man was conducting.
For the next year.
It was the least he could do- especially after they'd arrested the man and dragged him hundreds of miles to interrogate him. And he'd helped them rescue their Rose.
…Maybe funding him for the next decade was better.
As soon as the procession of men had left the room, Darcy let out an agitated sigh, running an anxious hand through her mass of dark curls.
"Right. So I'm pretty sure I know what's going on." Before Rose could start questioning her, Darcy continued, idly petting Pedro the Dog as he lounged contentedly in her lap. "Based on the tattoo and the whole 'enchanted jewelry' bit, I think what happened to you is the same thing that happened to Jane, Athena, and I." Sprawled across Thor's lap in the middle of the floor, Jane gave an agreeing nod.
"Yeah, it does sound pretty similar- though I have to say, your ascension was way more brutal than ours." The physicist gave a contemplative hum, eyeing Rose speculatively. "A lot slower too. Maybe because you were sick?" Before she could get sucked into her own conjecture, Jane resolutely shook her head. "That's beside the point. The point, is that there's only one person who can actually answer these questions. And we should probably call him." From the far corner of the room, tucked into the corner and tapping away at a tablet, Athena finally decided to speak up, her tone bland.
"Don't bother. I called him as soon as Grey had her gory little show." When both women gave her nearly identical shocked looks, the pastel haired woman rolled her eyes. "Any of the magic that took Rose was far outside of my scope, so we would have had to call him regardless of Rose's status. That she's alive and he'll actually have answers is both coincidental and extremely propitious." Before she could continue, there was a sudden burst of flame from the very center of the room. Rose let out a surprised screech, rapidly scuttling backwards until she abruptly flipped head first over the back of the sofa. She was saved from what she was sure would be a painful landing by Bucky's quick reflexes, the brunet quickly darting out a hand and latching on to the center of her long shirt, stopping her decent and hauling her back on to the sofa with an ungainly yelp.
That was close.
Yeah, apparently the Titty Fairy wasn't also giving out grace too.
Why is no one else freaked the fuck out by the black fire?
Don't forget cold. It's cold, black fire.
Rose's inner voice was correct. Besides a slight amount of apprehension (and just blatant apathy in Athena's case) no one had really reacted to the freezing, dark fire slowly dwindling in the center of the room. More than a little anxious, Rose latched on to Bucky and Steve's arms, eyeing the shadow slowly taking shape in the center of the fire. Steve leaned over and pressed a kiss into the top of her head, soothingly whispering to her just as the shadow finally took the shape of a rather tall man, completely cloaked in shadows.
"Don't worry, baby doll. Hades isn't going to hurt you. He just likes to make an entrance." Bucky let out a snort of agreement, gently squeezing the hand Rose had wrapped painfully tight around his bicep (they were going to have to talk to her about that- her little "makeover" seemingly included more than extensions). Rose just gaped at both of them, brain struggling to compute the fact that apparently her boyfriends were friends with the god damn Greek God of the Underworld. The shadow man (ostensibly fucking Hades) visibly scanned the room, stopping when he laid "eyes" on Rose. Hades tilted his head, seemingly thinking something over, before the shadows started to pull back. On either side of her, Steve and Bucky shot up straight, eyes wide as they watched human skin start to slowly appear.
All of the Avengers had met the Greek god on numerous occasions- but he'd only ever appeared as the shadowed specter to them, his human features completely hidden. Darcy, Jane, and Athena had, of course, known what he actually looked like since day one. The Avengers, however, had been kept in the literal dark, supposedly a "security measure" not unlike the women's inability to talk about their ascension and gifts.
What (or who) was being kept safe was never made clear.
Until now.
A second later the shadows disappeared, revealing a familiar face decked out in his signature dark suit, grey eyes deceptively calm. Rose spoke up, naming the man standing placidly in the center of the room, her voice shrill and incredulous.
"Hadrian?"