Hi Loves! This is my first Fanfiction I'm posting on here! Hope you enjoy it! xxxx
"Agent Coulson is down."
Four short words spoken amid the chaos surrounding the Helicarrier, yet the weight they carried said it louder than any of the shouts and screams. Four short words which had Agent Maria Hill brushing aside the medic who was treating the gash on her head and standing up, hand on her radio. Four short words which had Captain America and Iron Man stood in silence, tensely waiting for news.
"Paramedics are on their way," came the response from an unknown SHIELD Agent.
"They're here."
The crackling of the radio was the only noise, filling up their brains with static and seeming much louder than it actually was. Finally, after several tense minutes, Fury's voice echoed through the radio.
"They called it."
Fury gathered Tony and Steve back into the briefing room. It seemed like it had been years since they'd been in there, despite it only being a few hours. Everyone looked slightly dazed, a look of numb shock mirroring each other. For once, the room was silent. No one seemed to know what to say. Fury turned to Steve.
"These were in Phil Coulson's jacket. Guess he never did get you to sign them."
He threw Coulson's Captain America trading cards on the table in front of Steve where they settled, still sticky with not-yet dried blood. Coulson's blood. Steve tentatively picked them up, holding them delicately, as if they'd shatter if he breathed on them wrong. Fury appeared to have made his point, and turned to address everyone in the room.
"We're dead in the air up here. Our communications, location of the cube, Banner, Thor. I got nothing for you. Lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that coming."
He paused for a beat before addressing Tony.
"Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even riskier."
He turned to look at each individual in the eyes.
"There was an idea, Stark knows this, called the Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes."
Silence hung in the air for a moment before Tony surged to his feet. He didn't look back as he walked off, not wanting to hear any more. Steve sat staring at the bloodstained card in his hand, the other subconsciously rubbing his collarbone, against the marks there, one cold and dull, the other bright and tingly. It gave him some comfort to know they were there when his mind was too crowded as it was now. He looked up at Fury, expression indescribable. Fury was watching him, looking for something, though Steve didn't know what.
"Well, it's an old fashioned notion," He said, turning away from Steve, a silent dismissal.
In a large meadow miles below the Helicarrier, a figure walked, picking his way through the plants. His blonde hair hung around his face, his face determined, and his weapon swinging by his side. It's name was Mjolnir, and he was Thor, the God of Thunder. However, these past few hours had made him feel anything but god-like.
Dust settled on the ground as daylight shone through the giant hole ripped in the roof of an abandoned building, illuminating a pile of rubble and Dr. Bruce Banner, who lay among the debris, completely nude. He came to and peered blearily around him, unsure of where he was. The last thing he could remember was falling, the raging wind around him and Hulk bellowing, his own self encased in his own mind as the fury of the Hulk rushed through him. No matter how angry the Hulk got though, there was little he could do against the wind, or how close the ground got so quickly.
Movement caught his eye, and Bruce looked over to see a man wearing a security uniform, gaping at him with an open mouth. Embarrassment flared, and he could feel his face getting warm.
"You fell out of the sky,"
The security guard told him, seemingly fascinated, though Bruce couldn't really tell. The sun was shining in his eyes and his headache was giving him double vision. At least that was what he hoped. He'd seen so many weird things recently that a man with two heads and three times as many eyes swaying in front of him wouldn't be too much of a stretch. Right? He shook his head to wake himself up a bit more and was thankful when his sight became more focused.
"Did I hurt anybody?"
Honestly, Bruce had lost track of the amount of times he'd asked that after the Hulk happened. But it had to be asked. He needed to know. The security guard shook his head.
"There's nobody around here to get hurt."
Bruce's heart gave a swoop of relief. Thank God.
"You did scare the hell out of some pigeons though."
That almost made Bruce want to laugh. He must've been getting hysterical.
"Lucky."
"Or just good aim. You were awake when you fell."
"You saw?"
Bruce was surprised. Did the Hulk deliberately aim for an unpopulated area?
"The whole thing, right through the ceiling. Big and green and buck ass nude. Here…"
He threw a big pair of work pants at him. Bruce caught them and pulled them on gratefully, fighting a blush.
"I didn't think those would fit you until you shrunk down to a regular size fella."
"Thank you."
He'd just finished buckling the belt, having to tie it a bit weirdly to make it fit when the security guard opened his mouth again.
"Are you an alien?"
Bruce whipped his head up to stare at the guy, nonplussed.
"What?"
They stared at each other, one confused, the other utterly serious, if a little curious.
"From outer space, an alien?"
"No."
The security guard chuckles to himself, ignoring the incredulous look Bruce was giving him.
"Well then, son, you've got a condition."
The Helicarrier Medical Room was nice enough, but not exactly the nicest place to be holed up in. Especially for Agent Clint Barton, who was strapped down to an uncomfortable chair. Natasha watched over him as he tried to shake off Loki's mind control. She wasn't usually one to show much emotion, but she really was very worried about Clint. Sweat was running down his forehead and his eyes flickered between the unnatural luminescent blue eyes Loki gave him, and his normal shade. Red marks on his arms were visible from where his restraints had chafed against his arms.
"Clint, you're gonna be alright."
Clint looked up at her, face tense.
"You know that? Is that what you know? I got…I gotta go in though. I gotta flush him out."
"We don't have that long, it's gonna take time."
Clint looked away, jaw clenching.
"You don't understand. Have you ever had someone take your brain and play? Pull you out and shove something else in? Do you know what it's like to be unmade?"
Natasha stilled.
"You know that I do."
Clint shook his head, his thoughts were clouded and muddled.
"Why am I back? How did you get him out?"
"Cognitive recalibration."
She smirked a bit when he looked at her.
"I hit you really hard in the head."
Clint huffed an almost-laugh.
"Thanks."
His eyes were fully back to normal, the glowing electric blue replaced with a soft sky blue. Natahsa reached over and unfastened the restraints, and he shook out his hands, rubbing at the chafe marks. He suddenly couldn't bring himself to look at his best friend.
"Tasha, how many agents?"
She gave him a stern look.
"Don't. Don't do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we've been trained for."
"I hurt people, Natasha. What if I'd hurt them?"
Her hand covered his briefly where it is placed on his wrist, covering the mark there. Natasha refuses casual contact with most people. She simply doesn't trust them enough to feel comfortable being that vulnerable. But Clint is different.
"We would have known if that happened, Clint. Right now we know they are safe, and that is all we can hope to ask for right now."
Clint nodded, guilt still clouding his gaze, but he isn't at risk of wallowing anymore. Which is a good thing, Natasha thinks. Clint self-pitying was no fun.
"Loki, he got away?"
Natasha nodded.
"Yeah. I don't suppose you know where?"
Clint grimaced.
"I didn't need to know. I didn't ask. He's gonna make his play soon though. Today."
Natasha stood up.
"We gotta stop him."
"Yeah? Who's we?"
"I don't know. Whoever's left."
Clint sat up and cracked his knuckles. He wants to appear menacing, and to anyone but Natasha, he probably would. But she'd known him too long to be intimidated by him. He did make a pretty fearsome figure with his bow though.
"Well, if I put an arrow in Loki's eyesocket, I'd sleep better I suppose."
She smirks.
"Now you sound like you."
She took a seat next to him, and he turned to look at her; this time he was the one with concern for the other on his face.
"But you don't. You're a spy, not a soldier. Now you want to wade into a war. Why? What did Loki do to you?"
"He didn't, I just…"
"Natasha."
She looked him in the eyes.
"I've been compromised. I got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out.
Tony stood in the detention section of the Helicarrier. He stared at the empty cell container. Thor was God knows where now, dropped to oblivion by his own brother. Tony hadn't spoken since he'd walked out of the briefing room. White noise rang in his head and a part of him was worried what would come out of his mouth if he opened it. Throwing up wasn't quite off the tables just yet. He didn't even look up when he heard someone come in and walk up to him. He knew it would be Steve. He wouldn't be the first one to speak, so he stood in silence, wondering how long it would take for the frozen Capsicle to break.
"Was he mated?"
Pain shot through his chest, for once nothing to do with the metal in his chest. To lose a soulmate…
"No. There was a uh...cellist, I think. Not bonded, though."
Tony's chest was tight, he was finding it difficult to take deep breaths. His chest was burning, and he was extremely aware of his mark on his ribs, and the cold burn of his arc reactor in his chest when he rubbed it, a habit he'd found hard to break.
"I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man."
Annoyance and guilt fought within him, and he lashed out in the only way he could think of.
"He was an idiot."
Steve was watching Tony, his gaze calculating and slightly upset.
"Why? For believing?"
Steve was watching Tony as he waited for his response.
"For taking on Loki alone."
"He was doing his job."
Tony seemed to be itching for a fight.
"He was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have…"
Steve sighed.
"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony."
Tony turned and walked away. His next words were sarcastic and bitter as fuck.
"Right. How did that work for him?"
Steve gave him a long look.
"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?"
Tony turned around sharply, his expression almost feral.
"WE ARE NOT SOLDIERS" I am not marching to Fury's fife!"
"Neither am I! He's got the same blood on his hands as Loki does. Right now we've got to put that aside and get this done. Now Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list…"
Tony was staring at the blood stained wall. Steve could almost hear his brain whirring.
"He made it personal."
"That's not the point."
Tony turned back to Steve, his face fierce.
"That is the point. That's Loki's point. He hit us all where we live. Why?"
Steve was struggling to see where Tony was going with this.
"To tear us apart."
Tony was still thinking rapidly.
"He had to conquer his greed, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us and he wants to be seen doing it/ He wants an audience."
Steve nodded.
"Right, I caught his act at Stuttengard."
Tony began pacing. He was close to something, really close.
"Yeah. That's just a preview, this opening night. Loki's a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built in the skies with his name plastered…"
He stopped. Steve met his eyes, and Tony's eyes widened.
"Sonofabitch!"
Natasha was unprepared when Steve entered the Helicarrier Medical Room in full uniform. His face was grave and his hands were clenched on the belt of his outfit so hard she thought he might break it. His eyes were fixed on her intensely, but his eyes were shadowed, distant.
"Time to go."
Steve's voice was authoritative, giving the order with the ease of having given many commands like this before. He had, back during the war, back when he had his group, the Howling Commandos… and him.
"Go where?"
Natasha stood, hands already checking to see that her Widow bites were at her side, prepared for action.
"I'll tell you on the way. Can you fly one of those jets"
At that moment, Clint walked out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel. He was analysing Steve, assessing him in a way which made him feel slightly uncomfortable, but he didn't show it. Clint apparently deemed him acceptable as he inclined his head towards Cap.
"I can."
Steve looked at Natasha, the unspoken question in his eyes. Was Barton safe? She nodded her head briefly, confirming that Clint was on their side. Steve visibly relaxed, but not by much. His next question addressed Clint directly.
"You got a suit?"
"Yeah."
"Then suit up."