Rise of the Champions - Chapter Ninety
Author: Milady Dragon
Having Ianto touch his mind wasn't so bad, really.
Clint stood next to both Ianto and Stephen, watching as they worked around the Reality Stone. Stephen had his hand on the stone, as did Ianto; Myfanwy had settled at Ianto's feet, while Agamotto was draped about Stephen's shoulders, the dragon's eyes glowing softly as the two Wizards cast their spells. On the edge of his mind, he could feel Ianto's concentration, and for the first time the tingle of magic, and Clint had to wonder if Phil's magic felt that way as well, or if the Void was different. Oh, he knew how Phil described it; as cold and warm at the same time, like an old friend who'd just come in from the snow. There hadn't been anything about tingling, though, so Clint thought that was just the Deep Ways.
Would that be how it would feel when he took Ashildr up on her offer? Would he feel the Void within him all the time? Did Jack always feel the Deep Ways like that? He could ask, but he supposed that didn't matter. Once Phil got home, he was going to find Ashildr and accept what she wanted to give him. He wanted to spend his forever with Phil.
"You're going to bring them home," Daisy proclaimed, coming to stand with him while he waited.
Her confidence in him was staggering. "I'll do my best," he vowed, meeting her eyes. He wasn't going to lie to her, or give her false hope. Anything could have happened to Phil and Crystal, despite the fact that, as of last night, Idris still sensed their dragons. That was last night; today was a new day, and there was no telling what Clint would find once he stepped through whatever portal the two Wizards managed to conjure up.
He had to be pragmatic and yet, at the same time, he was going to do his damnedest to bring the rest of his family home. He had an eternity to plan with the man he loved, and he wanted to raise Crystal into a woman who was going to be as amazing as Daisy was. And then there was Medusa, because he and Phil were going to officially adopt her as well, and they were both needed to help her recover from what had happened to her. There was just too much to do, for Clint to do it alone.
Trip and Wanda joined them, and he could tell they were just as confident as Daisy was. Really, he had no idea how he'd earned that sort of thing. For a majority of his life, Clint hadn't been the best of people, and he hadn't really had the best role models. Sure, there'd been Old Man Carson, but he'd been an employer, even as much as he tried to take care of an unruly orphan who'd been talented beyond his age. The owner of the traveling show had managed to calm Clint down, a little, but all that hard work had been lost when the Elf had been betrayed by his own brother.
Now, Clint was adult enough to recognize that his relationship with Barney was on the mend, per the UnEarthly Child's prediction. It would take time, and things might not ever get to the point it had been when they'd been boys, but they had a chance to repair what had been damaged.
Clint knew an instant before Ianto announced it, that everything was ready.
He gave Daisy a hug for luck – Wanda ducked in and hugged him as well, which Clint appreciated – and readied his bow, setting an arrow to the string. He had no idea what he was going to be running into on the other side of the portal that was slowly forming under Stephen's direction; the Great Wizard was about the only one Clint knew that didn't use Teleport Artifacts, and could open a portal to anywhere in the world, so he trusted the man to get it right.
Just as he trusted Ianto to have found Clint's missing fiancé and daughter.
The archer strode toward the portal. Through the glowing and sparking circle, he could see what looked like a corridor, perhaps in a castle, made of red brick…which was an odd thing to build a castle out of. There were no windows at all, strangely-shaped glowglobes hanging from the ceiling, lighting the way.
Framed in the circle was a single man, his jaw dropped in surprise. He was wearing dark clothing, of a style Clint hadn't seen before, but then he wasn't an arbiter of fashion so he didn't really pay any attention. There was an odd holster on his belt, something sticking out of it, and the archer was willing to bet it was some sort of weapon.
Stepping through the portal, Clint had his bow up, arrow pointed right at the man's heart. "Don't draw your weapon," he hissed, hoping the man spoke the same language.
His hand didn't anywhere near that weird weapon. Instead, he tapped his ear and fairly shouted, "Intruder in Storage Area B! I repeat, intruder in Storage Area B!"
Clint frowned, confused. "Who the hells are you speaking to?" At least there wasn't going to be any sort of language barrier, even if the person's accent was odd. Clint didn't see any sign of a speaking stone or anything, but he was pretty sure the man hadn't been talking to himself.
The man didn't answer the question, raising his hands in surrender. "Put down the bow, and we can talk about this."
It was said in that placating tone that Clint knew was used to de-escalate situations that could spin out of control at any moment, and he barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. Whoever he'd talked to, he'd warned that Clint was there and, chances were, there were more of his sort on the way. He needed to get some answers, and fast.
"I'm looking for a man, a little girl, and two dragons," the archer said, not dropping the arrowhead from its target. "We know they were sent here; if I can find them, then I'll go. But, until I do, there's no way in any of the hells I'm putting my bow down."
The sound of running started, and Clint glanced down the corridor in the direction of the noise. Four more people – two men and two women – were coming toward them, and to Clint's surprise he recognized one of them. "Bobbi?" he blurted, unable to help himself.
The woman who looked like Bobbi, his ex-wife, blinked in surprise. She was dressed in odd clothes; not the trousers, Bobbi had only worn a dress once in the entire time he'd known her, and that had been on their wedding day. It was the cut of the clothing, and the material; the shirt she had on had words written across it, some of them readable and some not so much. Her hair was also a little longer than he'd seen just yesterday, and she carried a set of staves in her hands, not the pair of long daggers he knew.
This might have looked like Bobbi Morse, but it wasn't.
"Well," she said, surprise coloring her words, "this is not what I was expecting. Clint Barton, right?"
"That's right." So, there was a version of him around somewhere, as well.
"You look like the Barton I know, except for the ears. His ears aren't so…pointed."
So, his double wasn't an Elf. That seemed inconceivable, but there was something about her that she believed.
"He also doesn't have a dragon."
Lucky chirped a greeting at her, his own confusion echoing Clint's. Still, that didn't stop the silly dragon from going right up to her and demanding attention. The man Clint was covering with his bow flinched a little, looking as if he was going to go for that strange weapon holstered at his waist, but Bobbi laughed, slipped the pair of staves into sheaths on her back, and gave Lucky the loving he felt he was entitled to.
"I'm here for Phil and Crystal." The archer got the impression that she knew exactly what he was talking about.
"I figured as much." She looked behind him. "That's where you're from?"
Clint didn't turn, knowing what she was seeing: the laboratory where he'd just come from, with Ianto and Stephen and Daisy and the stone. "Yep."
She made a noise that could have been either accepting or interested, he couldn't tell what it was. "Well, the ones you're looking for are with the Director, who's on his way." She looked around at the people in the hall, three of which had those short weapons out and aimed right at Clint. "Lower your guns," she ordered, "he's a friendly."
A couple of them looked as if they thought she was crazy, but everyone holstered those so-called 'guns' they were holding. Clint waited until everyone was done before releasing the draw on his bow, although he kept the arrow nocked, just in case.
"Agent Morse," a familiar voice called from behind the group, "everyone, stand down."
Clint's heart began beating roughly against his chest as Phil stepped into view from behind the group.
Only, it wasn't Phil.
This man was a little older, a little more worn down, wearing more odd clothes that were different from what the others were; his seemed more formal, with a short jacket over shirt and trousers. His hair was also a little thinner, his eyes tired…oh, and he was missing his left hand, judging from the way the black sling he had on was hanging against his chest.
This man didn't seem surprised to see him. "Phil Coulson, Director of SHIELD," he introduced himself.
"Clint Barton…Master Archer and troubleshooter for the Court of Triskelia and Baron Nicholas Fury." Well, he really didn't have a title for what he did for Nick, but figured if this person was giving one, Clint might as well do the same, although 'Director' wasn't one he was familiar with.
This Phil Coulson looked amused by that. "I think I'm going to enjoy telling Nick he's a Baron in another dimension. He'll get a kick out of it." He, also, glanced around the gathering in the hallway, nodding once toward the portal, acknowledging the people watching from the opening. "Come with me, and I'll take you to the Grand Master and Crystal."
"They're alright?" Clint had to know, he couldn't wait to see them. He followed this man down the corridor, slipping his arrow into his quiver as they walked. Lucky trotted right up to this Phil's side, demanding his due, and the man chuckled and gave it to him.
"They are now. Apparently, this place affected their magic, but when that portal opened it seemed to recharge both of them. I'll be honest…I was getting worried."
That had been what Ianto had been the most concerned about, that Phil and Crystal had ended up on a world that didn't have magic. The portal must have released some magic into this world, which meant both Phil and Crystal needed to get home as soon as possible. Well, for two reasons, really; to get their magic back, and because Stephen and Ianto wouldn't be able to hold the portal open indefinitely.
He could feel Ianto's question in the back of his mind, and he sent back a report, hoping the Wizard could hear it. The mind magic wasn't all that strong, meant to really just keep an eye on him now that he was through the portal, but Ianto's emotions were a bit like Lucky's, in a way, only not as strong.
Clint paid attention to the path they took. This castle was strange, built oddly, and he didn't care for it one bit. It was wrong, but he couldn't have said why that was. He wanted to go home with Phil and his daughter, and forget they'd ever been exiled here.
"How long will that gateway stay open?" the Director person as he led the way.
"Not long. Ianto and Stephen are powerful, but they're dealing with an Artifact that literally took over another person's mind, destroyed them mentally while it forced her to create all sorts of portals that brought an invasion of monsters into a hidden valley in the Olympia Mountains."
The Director blinked as he took in that bit of information. "I suspect there's a lot more to that story than what you're telling."
Clint didn't bother to either confirm or deny that guess.
"And that large rock I saw through the portal…that's this so-called Artifact?"
Now, that Clint did confirm.
"Does this sort of thing happen in your universe a lot? I mean, the dangerous Artifact thing."
"It used to happen all the time, back when magic had been cut off from the world. People would find these lost Artifacts, try to use them, and make a hash out of it. Wars have been started because of Artifacts. People have been cursed, and even killed, because of Artifacts." He thought of Steve, who'd been exiled to the Void for hundreds of years, and of James, cursed so badly he couldn't even recall who he really was anymore.
"That sounds…lovely." The sarcasm wasn't even veiled in his voice.
"It's not so bad anymore, not with the Wizard's Guild. There are still idiots out there but, on the whole, the Guild does good work. Phil does good work, and so do Ianto and Stephen. They're our last defense against the dark." He shrugged. "There's a lot of bad out in the world, but those three fight for what's right. And they'll keep on fighting until there's nothing out there left to fight."
Clint was so very proud of his Phil, for taking up that battle. Oh, he'd heard about the would-be hermit version of the man he loved, who'd hidden from the world, but that hadn't been Phil Coulson. That had been an interim identity, caught between the Dark One and the Grand Master, and while there would always be a part of Clint that wished he could have spent those years with Phil, another part was glad he'd never seen that persona.
Clint ignored the stares of those they passed. Honestly, hadn't they ever seen an Elf before?
"We don't have Elves here," his escort pointed out, "although I suspect it's partly that, and partly who you look like here. Our Clint Barton is a pretty famous hero around here."
"Yet another big difference between my world and yours." Clint was no hero. He was an ex-traveling show attraction, ex-mercenary, misfit who just happened to luck into a family and a relationship that would last forever if he had anything to say about it.
Lucky, sensing the downward turn of his thoughts, abandoned walking beside the Phil lookalike and darted back to Clint, cooing at him a little sadly. To the dragon, Clint was a hero, because the One Mother had told him so, and everything the Queen of Air and Fire said held weight with her children.
The Elf could feel that, emanating him his companion, and he gave Lucky a brief, small, smile of gratitude for it.
"I get the feeling your friend there disagrees with that assessment," the Director said knowingly.
"Yeah, well. Lucky's biased."
Lucky gave that the response it deserved…a raspberry that echoed through the hallway, drawing attention – and snickers – from the people walking around them.
Clint's guide led him into a large room, empty except for a large case – it wasn't made of glass, but it was clear like glass – with a really big rock in it. It gave him the chills, the archer couldn't figure out why, but there was something about it that bothered him, like it was unnatural…it was like this place, with its odd-smelling air and the strange noises and the people who weren't like anyone he'd ever met and yet were perfectly human. He wasn't afraid to admit that he wanted to take his family and go home, back to where things were familiar and well-loved and he could be free of the strangeness.
There were two other familiar people in the room, and another he didn't recognize, thank the Gods. Clint was getting tired of all these duplicates and doppelgangers and the very idea of alternate realities was giving him a headache.
And then, there was Phil, and Crystal, and Lola and Lockjaw…Clint let out the breath he had no idea he'd been holding.
However, it looked as if Phil was busy with something, if his standing in front of that weird stone with his arms outstretched, Void dancing around his fingertips.
Damnit, Phil…
"Daddy!" Crystal's happy cry drew his attention away from his lover. His little girl was running toward him, and he grabbed her up in a fierce hug, lifting her in his arms, pitifully glad to see her again, to know that she was fine.
"Hello, sweetheart," he murmured into her hair. Clint felt tears prickling his eyes, and he didn't want to let her go, ever again. He'd only just got her, and he'd almost lost her.
"You're her other father?" the Director sounded surprised.
Clint bristled. Didn't they have same-sex relationships on this world? "Yes, I am," he answered brusquely, ready to defend himself and Phil from whatever condemnation they were about to get heaped on both of them.
Instead, the man looked…confused. Like it had never occurred to him that this could be happening. It wasn't that he didn't understand the idea, it was that he hadn't seen that it could happen to him.
In this world, this version of Phil apparently didn't like men the way Clint's Phil did.
Alright, he was willing to let that slide, then.
"Sorry," the man apologized, the archer's tone communicating itself to him.
"No worries," Clint waved a hand at him, even while he was still holding Crystal. "What the hells is he doing?"
The man who was obviously another version of Leo Fitz – only much older than the kid he knew – answered the question, "The…thing, took –"
"One of our agents," Other Phil interrupted. "The Grand Master claimed it was some sort of portal, magic but not. As soon as you came through to here, he was…like that."
"The Void came back, Daddy," Crystal put in. "It wasn't here before, but then it was, and Dad was using it."
Of course, Phil would want to save lives. He would want to use the Void that had come into this world at the opening of the portal back, to help whoever it was that yet another Artifact had taken. It would be too much like what had happened to him and Crystal, and Phil Coulson had a noble streak a league wide. How that streak had ever been hidden under the demeanor of the Dark One, was a mystery Clint didn't think would ever be solved.
"Damnit, Phil," he muttered out loud. "You just had to be all noble, when we really need to get home."
"You wouldn't love me any other way," Phil tossed out of over his shoulder. His eyes met Clint's and, even as obscured by Void as they were, shown just how glad he was to see Clint standing there.
"True," the archer grumbled, "but you need to hurry it up; Ianto and Stephen can't hold the portal open much longer."
"I'm just about done here." He turned back to whatever he was doing. "I'm trying to get this portal to open, but in this place I'm just not powerful enough." His arms dropped to his sides, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry, I thought I could do something to get your Agent Simmons back."
Simmons. Clint started at the name. Was that this place's version of Jemma Simmons? It would explain why the Leo Fitz here was so worried, if they were indeed as close here as they were back home.
Phil turned, the Void fading from his eyes. "This monolith, as you call it, will open again; I'm just not strong enough in this world to force it to do so. It works on a harmonic that I cannot tune my magic to, a vibration in the very universe itself, but if you find that vibration, it will open. Or, you can wait until it opens on its own. It will; I just can't say when that will be."
"You tried," the Phil double replied, "that's all you can do."
"We'll figure something else out," the man who resembled Alphonso Mackenzie added, "and if we can't, then we'll just have to wait. At least we know she's not trapped inside that stone."
"You should go." The Director person offered his hands to Phil. "It's been a pleasure to meet you. And, good luck with your version of Hydra."
Smiling, Phil accepted the handshake; at least the greeting was the same. "And you with yours."
"We're going home now, Dad?" Crystal asked.
"We are," Phil agreed. He nodded to the strangers. "As much as I have enjoyed seeing new things, I hope that we never meet again. No offense."
"None taken." Doppelganger Phil smiled. "Let me walk you back to your portal."
It couldn't be fast enough in Clint's opinion. He just wanted to get everyone home and safe.
