Chapter Two

I'm Not in New York City Anymore

Fury winced when he gained consciousness. The first thing he realized that he had to be lying on the ground, given the pressure to his face. He was afraid to open his eyes, in fear of being blinded by some light. He carefully forced himself to open his eyes, surprised not to find some white brightness.

Fury propped himself up on his elbows and saw he had been lying on a wooden floor. He looked around and found himself in a place similar to a cabin. It was old-fashioned, but homey and comfortable. The air was cool, but not irritable. A large hole was cratered in the roof above him.

"Okay, then. I guess I'm not in Hell's Kitchen anymore."

His attention was focused on the door now, which had been blown off of its hinges. He walked through the doorway and cried out in amazement, because what he saw was breathtaking.

Where he was happened to be a prairie field set in the middle of nowhere, possibly in the middle of the United States. The grass here looked so much healthier than what he had known his entire life. Behind the cabin was an equally healthy forest with trees and greener grass. However, what was most captivating was the mountain range that trailed along the prairie to his right.

Fury stepped outside to get a better look at the new sight before him. If heaven wasn't the cliché of the sky and clouds, this had to be it. His young mind was dazzled at the sight before him. He stepped out onto the porch and at the steps. He had never seen anything like this before, so it was nice to not have to stare at skyscrapers and old neighborhoods.

While he stood there, eagerly looking at the wild country, his ears picked up an unmistakably familiar sound of branches cracking. He backed into the house as soon as he heard voices. He rushed back into the house and dove beneath the bed.

Minutes ticked by, but it was merely seconds. He heard voices break through the air and he shivered. He never felt this nervous or scared before, and he was to witness things he never should have at his age.

It was not long before the door to the room he hid in swung open. Hold your breath! Fury bit his lip as he saw a pair of boots clank against the floor. He prayed to God that the intruder didn't look underneath the bed.

"Who's underneath there?"

Fury quietly swallowed as he inched towards the opening. His eyes met that of a woman's who had to be out of her teens. To his surprise, her outfit was something unlike any he had seen. It was like one of those space operas that he watched on Saturday mornings. Her shock equaled to his own.

"Um, hi?" he said. "How's the weather?"

There was a cheer and whooping suddenly. Fury scrambled from underneath the bed as a man danced into the room. "Carter! Carter! You won't guess what we―" He stopped suddenly when he saw the boy. "Oh. Hello there."

"Hi," Fury drawled out. "Where am I?"

"In Auradon," the man said jovially. He took off his hat. "Dum Dum Dugan, at your service."

Fury waved a cautious hand.

"What has you excited?" Carter asked Dugan.

Dugan couldn't contain his excitement. "Remember that lady who roamed this place?"

Carter's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

"Um, what happened?" Fury asked.

Carter looked to him. "Are you the one responsible?"

"For what?"

Carter took Fury's hand and took him outside of the room. The living room was full of some grown ups wandering around the room. All of them stopped what they were doing and looked up as they emerged from the bedroom. Carter led him outside and pointed at the railing. Fury's eyes widened when he saw a stain shaped like a human's shadow on the deck. Then, remembering the footage of the bombing of Hiroshima he had seen on TV, he realized it was a human shadow.

"Oh, god. I killed a person," he bemoaned dramatically.

"Not just any person." A man tapped his crutch against the shadow. "They called her the Mad Lady, who had roamed here. She loved to make slaves out of anyone who came this way, torturing them and then killing them when she got bored. Said to have bathed in their blood to keep herself immortal."

"You mean like Elizabeth Bathory?" Fury asked.

Most of the people looked at him in confusion. Fury suddenly realized that the portal had possibly sent him to a different part of time, so they didn't know who this woman was. Or, had he been sent to a different world?

"I mean, a wicked witch?" He quickly switched the words.

"Sure." The man offered a hand. "Chief Sousa."

"Fury." He grabbed Sousa's hand and they shook on it. "Was that why you're here, or did you happen to pass by?"

"Well―" But someone elbowed the one about to speak up.

"If not, then I better get going." Fury turned to the steps, but stop. He realized that Vers was not in sight. Neither were Mar-Vell or the officer that had been sucked in. His eyes widened as it all dawned on him. Where are they?

"He doesn't get what's going on," Dugan whispered. "Stark?"

Another one of the men came up next to Fury. He knelt down and placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Hey, kid? Is everything okay?"

Fury's chin quivered at the question. He drew in his lower lip and bit on it, but the tears started to well up. He allowed a whine to escape his throat and he started to cry. Stark told him it was going to be okay, but Fury believed he was now alone. No father, no Red, and no sign of Vers. He was on his own now.

The smoke rose into the air. It originated from the small fire in a camp. The encampment consisted of people similar to the Allied army campsites during World War II when they were preparing to attack enemy forces. The differences were not the style of the camp similar to the Middle Ages, but also the attire found in apocalyptic events. Peggy Carter and her crew had been a part of the camp.

She walked alongside Fury as they returned, glancing at him every now and then, pondering on recent events. She and the remains of the Howling Commandos, along with a few other allies, had set out from the West just under a month ago. A council had convened there and had tasked them with a very important mission that involved the young country's established capital, Esgaroth.

It was one of her closest friends of the camp, Howard Stark, who held the responsibility for the mission's accomplishment. She was unsure why, and he was not bothering to answer her questions. Perhaps it was to find Steve's body in the Dark Sea along the coast of Caucus. The immigrants that journeyed to this uncharted land from that landmass had told of stories that had been passed down by generations of such tales that could revive a man from the clutches of nature when they had escaped from warfare and persecution.

In order to avoid suspicion, the group had tried to cross the mountain range, which could be seen all around them. As they packed through its passes, it was forced to retreat due to the sudden storms that seemed to be endless. She remembered little of what happened, except for the running and the orders to retreat. What troubled her was the possibility of an unknown enemy finding out their plans.

Perhaps this child was what was needed to bring clarity. Two jobs intertwined into one colossal mission that could even bring her closure over Steve's death. Glancing over again, Fury had been clinging to Jarvis as they returned to the campsite. He needed to be consoled, and they would have to be stuck with him until they could figure out where he needed to go.

Fury had said he had come from New York. She had never heard of a place called by that in her time here. He had claimed it was a civilized state in a country called the United States of America. She would have to ask more of it when they found some form of peace somewhere. Right now, they had to move.

As the fires were put out and the camp was taken down, Fury was set down to the ground. He never moved from his spot, and he looked terrified. He didn't want to live here in whatever bizarre place he was set in; he just wanted to go back home.

He had stopped crying by the time they had returned. He stood by, watching them tear down their camp, wondering what was to become of him for the moment. They claimed to be heading for Esgaroth, wherever that was. They never said where it was or why they were going there. He never understood why the secrecy, as it was when it came with warfare, but there was no war happening anywhere since the Great War ended a year ago here. So, what was it they were trying to hide from him?

"You'll stay with us until we can figure out how to find your friends," Carter told him as they were finishing up. "We can take you to the capital with us. Perhaps the State Lord there can help."

"What's a State Lord?" Fury mumbled.

"Like a king, but he was voted for by the people," Carter explained.

"So, he's like the president?" Fury speculated.

"What is a president?"

Fury looked to the ground, thinking carefully on how to explain it. He finally said, "It's like a king who runs a country, but he's elected by the people. We get to vote who runs our country every four years. Right now, Dwight D. Eisenhower is our president."

"Is he a good president?"

Fury shrugged. "He's okay."

Carter considered his words before saying, "So is our current one, but it's hard to tell since none of us have seen him."

"How are we getting to Esgaroth?" Fury asked.

"We'll have to walk. Unless you have other ways of getting there."

"I walk to school every day, but I guess this won't be any different?"

Carter frowned. Fury realized that this world is as primitive as the Middle Ages after all. How long and far they will be walking was his biggest concern. But he didn't want to sound ungrateful for their help. So, he decided to keep his mouth shut right now.

Once everyone finished, the entire crew set out for the East. Fury walked with Carter, Jarvis, and Sousa. There were more men than there were of women, he saw. There were few to count for, but he didn't know how to interact with them. For now, all he could do now was stay with these people.

And he did, until the very end of the journey, wherever it may be, until he could find Vers and get back home. Somehow.