Synopsis

After her initial encounter with the man in blue, Lucy Carlisle never could have foreseen the rapid turn that her life would take, but despite everything, she did not regret the choice that she had made.

The story will be focused on the main Avengers movies and Captain America 2 and 3, staying as canon-accurate as possible, with some liberties taken for the sake of the main character's story, and diverting pretty significantly toward the end.

Author's Introduction

A story like this had been nagging at me, in some form, ever since I saw Captain America: Civil War in May of 2016. I was hesitant to write a fanfiction that would be shared publicly, but once I finally decided to take on the challenge, it felt like a burden was lifted. :)

The Captain America and Avengers movies are my absolute favorites~ When The Avengers came out, it hit me really hard, and I wanted to be a member of S.H.I.E.L.D. and/or an Avenger so much. (My favorite aspects of the MCU have always been S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra, the original 6 Avengers, badass Nick Fury, etc.) A couple of months or so before 'Endgame' was released, I suddenly became intensely emotionally invested in Captain America, on a level that I hadn't experienced before, which is ultimately what pushed me to write this. I technically started (in a very minor way) on May 13th, but it wasn't until I saw 'Endgame' on May 28th that I started working on it with dedication. It's felt so great to get it out of my system, and though I'm a bit nervous to post it (it's a little embarrassing to be writing emotional content about characters that aren't my own), I want to share it with other fans who might feel similarly (or even identically) about Cap and the Avengers. :')

This is serving as an outlet for pent-up feelings that I've had for many years, like a kind of therapy, and, because of 'Endgame,' closure. It's also a kind of tribute to the main portion of the MCU as it's come to an end after being such a staple in so many people's lives, including my own.

I'll update as often as possible, but there might be a larger gap between chapters here and there, depending on how things go. Also, there will likely be some romance later on, but how much will depend on how the story feels as it progresses, especially considering that I'll be working around certain things from the movies. I'm extremely excited about what's to come, and I hope, at the very least, that it can be even a fraction as cathartic and meaningful for you as it is for me. Enjoy~ :)

(Disclaimer: Of course, I do not own the MCU or any of Marvel's characters. This is purely an outlet for strong feelings that I have about certain movies in the series and a certain beloved captain.)

P.S. I decided to start posting this on July 4th (earlier than originally planned), in honor of Steve Rogers' birthday. :)
(Also being posted on Archive of Our Own)


Chapter 1

The city night was cool and slightly damp. Lucy's sneakers splashed occasionally in shallow puddles as she walked along the street, headlights and streetlamps glaring off of the wet pavement. Her friend, Lena, had invited her to Germany for a few days, where she had just recently moved to attend art school. Lucy had been there for three full days, but it only took her one to be able to see that Stuttgart was a great place to live if you were an art student. Not only were there several museums, but the varied architecture alone was quite interesting to behold. Lena had brought her to Keonigstrasse on her second day in the city. There was so much to look at, and so many shops, but Lena had only shown her her favorites, so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed.

Lucy was currently on her way back to her friend's apartment after having been out with her for the evening. The two had departed the cafe a short while ago where they had enjoyed a nice evening appetizer, but Lucy had wanted to linger a bit, and maybe check a shop on the way back, so she'd told Lena that she would catch up with her. She was quite enjoying the nightlife, and found the atmosphere of the shopping district both invigorating and relaxing.

She rounded a corner, her hand clutching the strap of her purse on her shoulder absentmindedly as she observed the post-rain look of the streets and walkways, the scent of nitrogen hanging in the air. A large, grand building with large columns and dramatic uplighting loomed up toward the dark sky on her left. She had passed it with Lena before, but it somehow looked even more impressive at night.

Before she had gotten very far at all, she heard distant screaming, and then the doors of the building were thrown open, a terrified flood of people pouring out onto the street and across to the small plaza, and the screams seemed to be everywhere. Lucy froze, her brain wondering what was wrong, while her feet couldn't decide where to go. As the crowd rushed toward her, something else drew her attention. One lone person was behaving in complete contradiction to the panicked civilians.

He looked like a man, surely—aside from the strange and beastly golden horns that curved up from a golden helmet. The rest of his attire—an equally gilded caped armor of some kind—looked a bit less unusual, but still extremely out of place, and not something that one was used to seeing on the streets in daily life. He appeared to give off a warm light as he strode calmly and deliberately forward, across one of the red carpets laid out before the building's entrances. Lucy felt a horrible sense of danger from the man, but was unable to take her eyes off of him as she was jostled by the screaming crowd. The light around the figure shifted and faded, and Lucy saw that he was carrying something: a staff of some kind? Or a weapon? Please, let it not be a weapon, she begged internally. A point of light on the staff glowed a vibrant blue.

The man began to cross the street, following the others, his pace quickening slightly. Lucy's feet finally decided to move, and she took a few steps back as the man advanced on the large group of people with a determined expression. Suddenly, a siren wailed on the neighboring street, and two police cars, lights flashing, turned toward the commotion outside of the building. As soon as the lead car had rounded the corner, the man thrust out the staff, and Lucy jumped as a flash of blue light, with the appearance of smoke, shot forth and collided with the vehicle, enveloping it completely for a second, and simultaneously upending it and silencing it before sending it hurtling down the street, in the direction of the crowd. The car crashed down onto its roof and came to a grinding halt. Lucy stared in stunned horror, praying that the poor officers—however many were inside—would be okay. Her fear that the staff was a weapon had just been proven right. There was no doubt that this man was dangerous. What had he done inside of the building to make everyone evacuate?

Just then, the crowd gasped collectively, and Lucy whipped around to see what they were reacting to as a clear tenor voice rang out in a smooth and noble-sounding accent. "Kneel before me."

Suddenly, Lucy realized that there was more than one of the man. And in the next second, there were four, standing at intervals around the crowd, as if to box them in. What the hell . . . ?! Lucy struggled to keep her bearings as a woman backed into her, and she in turn jostled into someone else.

The strangely dressed man was not pleased with the civilians' inability to comply instantaneously with his order. His voice came again, with a touch more menace, "I said . . . " then, he brought the bottom of his staff down heavily onto the ground, and all of his duplicates' staffs, along with the original, gave a strong pulse of bright blue light. The power that rippled through the air was palpable, and Lucy could feel the crowd's fear increase significantly. She noted that the staff looked much more like a spear, now that it was held upright. As soon as the light faded, the man bellowed over his onlookers, "KNEEEEEL!" His face then split into a pleased and almost triumphant grin as the people immediately began to sink to their knees before him. Lucy felt herself hesitate, her body crying out for her to not give this man such a respectful and submissive gesture. But she also did not want to be the only one left standing, as she was sure that it would not end well for her, and she did not want to have done to her what was done to that police car.

With a disgusted feeling in her chest, and a shameless glare at the man, her knee met the cold, hard, damp ground. If she had to kneel, she would only give him one.

"Is not this . . . simpler?" the man addressed the subdued crowd as he strolled forward slowly. "Is this not your natural state?" Lucy cringed inwardly, the fear giving way slightly to anger at this man's audacious and condescending words. "It's the unspoken truth of humanity . . . that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power . . . for identity. You were made . . . to be ruled. In the end . . . you will always kneel," he finished with that self-satisfied, gleeful grin. Lucy wanted to wipe it from his face—using that spear, if possible.

Suddenly, there was movement to her right, and she turned her head to see an elderly man slowly getting to his feet. Fear struck her again, this time for the man's safety, and her eyes darted quickly to the threatening spear-wielding figure.

"Not to men like you," the older man's voice rang out in German-accented English.

The horned man exhaled a laugh, his grin not faltering for a moment. "There are no men like me."

Unfazed, and standing with a fearless gleam in his eyes and a confidence that surprised Lucy somewhat, the elderly man replied, "There are always men like you." She could hear the wisdom in his words, the ages-old experience that colored them, and she could practically feel his haunted memories seeping from his glare directed at the arrogant younger man across the crowd. She wondered how old the German man had been during World War II.

Suddenly, with a relaxed expression, and a slightly faded grin, the horned man raised the spear. "Look to your elder, people." Lucy's stomach dropped. Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened as the weapon was leveled at the unarmed man. The blue glow intensified, sending a shudder of power through the air once more. Lucy's heart was in her throat. He was going to be killed. Right in front of her—in front of all of those people. This wasn't a car—this was a person of flesh and blood. What would that weapon do to him? She had to do something. If she moved right now, she might be able to knock the elderly man aside before he was hit—or maybe she would be just in time to get hit herself. But could she let that deter her from acting? Her mind reeled in those few brief seconds, her knee an inch off of the ground, her whole body tense as she debated what to do.

The threatening stranger lowered his tone significantly and said, his words dripping with menace, "Let him be an example."

MOVE! She screamed at herself. But she didn't have time.

In the next instant, the spear seemed to explode, releasing a flash of deadly energy that flew over the heads of the subdued crowd, toward the wicked man's helpless victim. Lucy felt a scream ready to tear from her chest, when suddenly, in the blink of an eye, something appeared and deflected the blast of blue light back to its source, violently knocking the spear-wielder off of his feet. Breathless, Lucy saw him go down, then her head snapped back to the man now standing protectively in front of the elder. The new arrival slowly stood up from a crouch, a shiny round shield held before him. Smoke wafted off of its surface as the man lowered the shield and squared his shoulders to the enemy. He had dropped down from the sky so quickly that he had seemed to materialize from thin air. His silhouette was powerful, and by the light from the building and the surrounding streetlamps, Lucy could see that he was clad in a full-body suit of some kind—which included a helmet-like mask that hid the top half of his face—in primarily a dark shade of blue, with some silver and red detailing. She thought she caught a glimpse of a star on his chest.

"You know," said the newcomer as he strode forward through the crowd, toward the horned man, who was now on his knees, the cocky air of grandeur wiped from his face, "the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

Lucy barely had time to wonder who he could be talking about, for the horned man, still armed, and preparing to get back to his feet, replied in that tone laced with menace, "The soldier." He gave a devious chuckle, the grin returned to his face. "The man out of time." He straightened up, gripping his spear and glaring across at the man with the shield.

"I'm not the one who's out of time," the latter retorted, and Lucy was once again left with no time to ponder the cryptic words, as a strange sound emanated from somewhere high above. It sounded like an engine. Looking up, Lucy spotted two small red lights against the black sky, and between them, what appeared to be an aircraft, but one completely unknown to her. Something opened up in the bottom of the craft, and an amplified female voice echoed through the night, "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down."

Without hesitation, the horned man—apparently named Loki—shot an explosion of blue light at the ship. Lucy flinched at the sudden burst of energy through the air as the ship mercifully managed to dodge the attack, and suddenly, so fast that Lucy barely saw it, the man with the mask threw his shield straight at Loki. It ricocheted off of the other man's chest, flew up into the air, and was back in its owner's possession in a heartbeat. Now with a chance to escape, the crowd had begun to scatter frantically, jostling Lucy and forcing her to the side, and the masked man, having closed the gap between himself and Loki, wasted no time in throwing a good right hook to the horned man's face. However, the latter hardly seemed fazed, and it only took a second for him to start throwing blows of his own, the spear sparking against the shield with each ferocious swing.

Lucy gasped, a wave of fear stabbing through her, as the masked man was thrown across the plaza. He seemed unhurt, however, for he immediately got to his knees and threw his shield once more at his adversary. It was deflected by the glowing spear, but the heroic man in blue continued his assault on his horned opponent, barehanded.

The fight only lasted a few more seconds before the masked man, right after landing a seemingly solid punch to Loki's ribs, was knocked several yards away by the villain's spear. Lucy's heart was pounding as the domineering figure, now with a clear advantage, held the blunt end of the spear against the masked man's head, forcing him to bow. Even from across the plaza, Lucy could hear him growl, "Kneel."

But, contrary to appearances, the blue-clad man was not done. In a flash, he shoved the weapon away, stood up, and with a determined "Not today!" he landed a brilliant kick to Loki's chest, tipping the arrogant man off balance, and the fight was back on.

The valiant man had just been thrown, yet again, when the intense combat was disrupted by what sounded like . . . rock music, from somewhere in the distance. A few seconds later, Lucy realized that it was coming from above. She looked up, scanning the darkness, and as the music increased in volume, something that looked like a rocket cut through the black sky. It soared underneath the hovering aircraft, and just as Lucy realized that it looked humanoid, it fired an intense flare of orange light that sparked like fire and knocked Loki off of his feet once again. This time, he was the one who was thrown. Lucy felt the shock wave through the ground as the flying man came down heavily on his knee in the plaza. Loki made a landing of his own—a painful one, by the sound of it—on the plaza steps several yards behind where he had just been standing. Lucy stared in awe at the armored suit as it got to its feet and held up its arms, training several weapons on the fallen villain in a very convincing checkmate. Now that it was no longer flying, she recognized what it was—who it was. No way . . . that's—

"Make your move, Reindeer Games," Tony Stark's voice emanated from the external speakers in the Iron Man suit. Both relieved and amused, Lucy felt a smile crack her previously frightened expression at the dry delivery of his humorous choice of words. The aircraft maneuvered closer, its engine reverberating between buildings. The man in blue had now joined his comrade, the shield back on his arm, and the two men stared down at their enemy, both ready to continue the fight if necessary. As it turned out, it wouldn't be. A gentle golden light emanated from Loki, just as Lucy had seen when he'd first exited the building, and when the light receded, he was left without his flashy armor. The spear had also vanished. Slowly he raised his hands in surrender.

Iron Man retracted his weapons. "Good move."

Lucy stared, wondering how on Earth the villain was able to make copies of himself and make his very solid objects vanish like they had always been nothing but light, when a distant-sounding melodic ringing pulled her attention from the scene before her and drew it to her purse. Feeling shaken, she reached inside with slightly trembling hands and dug out her cellphone. Lena was calling. She silenced the phone by answering it, simultaneously turning her self-conscious gaze back to the men standing across the way. She had been so caught up in the fight that she had neglected to flee like everyone else, and she was now more aware than ever that she was the only civilian present, and it really felt like she shouldn't be there.

"Lucy? Hello?" came Lena's voice in her ear.

"Y-yeah, I'm here . . . just a sec . . . " Lucy muttered, somewhat breathless, as she started to turn in the opposite direction of Iron Man, the man with the shield, and the defeated Loki, trying not to draw attention to herself.

"Why are you being so quiet? Is something up?"

"I'm fine," Lucy replied in the same hushed tone, her heart still beating rather rapidly as she tried to escape the scene as quickly and quietly as possible, eager to return to the safety of her friend's apartment and some dinner; perhaps a nice, comforting delivery order from one of Lena's favorite restaurants that she had been telling Lucy about. Stuttgart had turned out to be much more eventful than she ever could have anticipated. Never in a million years would she have predicted that Iron Man would show up. And the man with the shield, whoever he was, had impressive combat skills of his own. She had never before seen anyone fight like that in real life. It had been an exhilarating and terrifying encounter, but now she felt drained. Maybe her last day in the city would be well-spent somewhere quiet.

As she left the plaza and crossed the street behind it, remembering to check for traffic at the last second—though there were no cars in sight—she had a sneaking feeling that someone was watching her go.