January 15, 2012
"You want me to take you into the Mirror Dimension?" Aunt Sarah repeated in tones of surprise.
"Yeah," Clint said.
She blinked at him a few times. The grandfather clock in her front room tick-tocked away steadily behind her. "Why?"
"Why not?" Clint shot back.
"Well-" Aunt Sarah hesitated. "We kinda stopped doing that once Captain Rogers moved to Manhattan. We can see him in person now."
"I can't see him in person," Clint pointed out. "I'm supposed to be Grandma's nurse in Philly when he comes to visit her there. He shouldn't see my face before that, don't you think?"
"Okay," Aunt Sarah said slowly, although he could see her open surprise at his insinuation that he was willing to do that mission, after all his initial reluctance.
Not that he'd promised any such thing.
"But the Mirror Dimension missions... honestly, Clint, they're not very exciting," Sarah went on. "He can't see you or hear you. You pretty much just stand around and watch him to see if he has a PTSD episode. And Sharon and her team are monitoring him for that now, so it isn't so critical anymore."
"What makes you think I want excitement?" Clint asked.
She got an Oh brother kind of look in her eyes, but she didn't say anything. Clint wished heartily that she would. Aunt Sarah had always amused him as much as she puzzled him. At times she clearly had a lot of sass building up inside her just aching to get out, but she almost always kept it bottled in. Probably thought she was going to offend someone or something. Guess she hadn't figured yet that Clint would rather have a good-natured verbal tussle with someone than act all serious and respectful to each other all the time. And for the millionth time, he wondered how on earth he had ended up in this family. God must have been taking a vacation the day he was born. Left an incompetent angel in charge, someone who had kicked his sandals up on the desk and just thrown all the day's family assignments into files at random. He sighed inwardly.
"So are you gonna do it, or do I have to wrestle your sling ring away from you and do it myself?" he asked.
Aunt Sarah laughed unexpectedly. "Clint, if you tried to use a sling ring without any training, you'd probably end up in Timbuktu."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Could be exciting."
"Thought you didn't want excitement," she shot back.
"You didn't hear me say that was a good thing," he said defensively.
She smiled and then sighed. "Okay. Let me go take a peek and see what he's doing."
Sliding on her sling ring, Aunt Sarah flicked her wrist and shattered the air like glass before striding through the dimensional breach. She was gone for quite a while, long enough for Clint to overthink everything and start to wish he hadn't offered to do this after all. But finally she came back and said it was a good time to go.
"Captain Rogers was starting in on a panic attack, so Sharon called up Maria Hill and had her bring him in for training at one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s facilities," she said, her tone matter-of-fact even though he could see a flash of pain in her blue eyes. "I think they're hoping to distract him enough to head off a full-blown episode. You can hang out in the Mirror Dimension and watch and let us know how it goes."
Clint stood up, willing himself not to rub his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. There was no possible way he could mess this up. That was the whole point of taking a Mirror Dimension mission. Just watch and then make a report. Easy peasy. Even he could manage that.
"Okay," he said. "Let's rock."
He followed her into the shattered air, emerging into a reversed version of Aunt Sarah's front room, where sounds echoed weirdly. Clint hardly had time to let the strangeness of it sink in before she opened up a golden portal and led him through it, this time emerging onto a wide expanse of asphalt, marked with painted lines and orange cones to make it into a driving course. They were surrounded by the New York City skyline.
Clint looked around and spotted a row of vehicles lined up at the edge of the pavement: a military-style Jeep, a sedan, an SUV, a motorcycle. Two people were pacing slowly around the vehicles, looking at them: a woman in a black S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform with dark hair pulled back into a low bun, and a taller man in civilian clothing with neatly combed blond hair. It was Grandpa, Clint realized with an unexpected shiver moving down his spine. Or Captain Rogers, he quickly corrected himself. The rest of the family had become adept at calling him that to differentiate between the two. It still seemed weirdly artificial to him; they were the same man. What difference did the age make?
"You have two hours to watch," Aunt Sarah told him. "Then I'll come back for you. You got this?"
Clint nodded, trying to project the same confidence everyone else in the family seemed to have been born with. He had a feeling Aunt Sarah could see straight through the facade, but he forced himself to speak in a normal tone of voice anyway. "I got this."
She nodded seriously and left through the portal, snapping it shut behind her. Clint felt a sudden anxiety twist his stomach as he looked across the way at Captain Rogers.
"I might have this," he muttered under his breath. "Kinda."
He took a deep breath and walked over to them. When he got closer, he saw that the woman with Captain Rogers had a name printed on the front of her uniform: "Hill." Must be Agent Maria Hill. Clint vaguely remembered seeing her face in the comic books Grandpa had created, although he couldn't remember much about her. He didn't have those comics memorized forward and backward like everyone else. But she must be important, or his cousin Steven wouldn't have named his daughter after her.
"Most cars these days have an automatic transmission," she was telling Captain Rogers, lifting up the hood of the military-style Jeep and propping it open. "Here's what it looks like. If something goes wrong, I wouldn't recommend tinkering with it yourself unless you really know what you're doing. Especially in the newer models. A lot of the functions are computerized now."
Agent Hill pointed out the anti-lock brake control unit next, but Clint could see that Captain Rogers' full attention wasn't exactly on her explanation of how it worked, even though he kept nodding his head politely in response. But his eyes kept flicking to the side, where a motorcycle was leaning on its kickstand, and there was a subtle longing in his expression that was all too plain to see.
Clint could hardly blame him. It was the exact same model he himself owned back at home: a Harley Davidson Road King Classic. As far as Clint was concerned, there weren't many joys that compared to climbing onto that leather seat, turning the key, and feeling the vibrations thrum through his entire body, with the roar of the engine in his ears and the anticipation sending a tingle up his spine. And then to get out on an open road, to gun the engine and put on a glorious burst of speed, to feel the wind in your face as the scenery turned to a blur and all the other drivers on the road turned their heads to stare as you roared past them...
How long had it been since Captain Rogers had felt that kind of freedom? Probably not since the '40s.
"Ready to try it out?" Hill asked Captain Rogers, opening the door to the Jeep, and he tore his eyes off the motorcycle and obediently got into the driver's seat. Hill walked around to the passenger side, and Clint had a moment of sheer panic as he realized he had no idea if it was possible for him to get into the Jeep with them from here in the Mirror Dimension. He grabbed the handle of one of the rear doors and was intensely relieved when he actually managed to open it. At least, he seemed to be opening a reflection of the rear door, while the real one stayed firmly in place. Clint quickly swung into the car, slammed the Mirror door shut, and slid over to sit in the middle seat so he could look between the front seats.
In the driver's seat, Captain Rogers searched for the ignition fruitlessly.
"Just put your foot on the brake and then push that button," Hill told him, pointing. "I've got the key in my pocket. As long as it's in the general vicinity, the engine will start."
Captain Rogers looked faintly confused at that, but he pushed the button and the engine started. He looked back over at Agent Hill... or at least, Clint thought that for a second, until he realized Captain Rogers was actually looking just past her, staring once more at the motorcycle outside the window.
"Wow, Grandpa, I'm starting to think you have an obsession," Clint teased him, leaning forward to poke his head between the two front seats. "But hey, I get it. I love 'em too. In fact, I got a motorcycle for my wife last week. Best. Trade. Ever!"
For some reason, he half-expected Captain Rogers to at least smile at the joke, but his expression didn't change in the slightest and Clint was a little annoyed to remember that from here in the Mirror Dimension, he basically didn't exist, as far as everyone in the real world was concerned. Aunt Sarah was right; this was less than exciting.
Guess he'd just have to provide his own entertainment around here.
"So serious," Clint said to Captain Rogers, assuming the same stiff expression he was wearing with a hint of gentle mockery. "Jeez, Grandpa, why didn't you just tell her you wanted to drive the motorcycle? What's the matter, afraid you would enjoy it too much? Maybe even crack a smile? Afraid you might break your face?"
"This is an automatic, so as soon as you take your foot off the brake it'll start moving," Hill told Captain Rogers. "Just accelerate whenever you're ready. No need to change gears."
He took his foot off the brake, and the Jeep started to roll. Captain Rogers slowly accelerated, and began steering carefully through the orange cones set up around the driving range.
"Oh, come on, Grandpa," Clint said, sitting back in his seat with a huff, realizing he was now trapped into riding along on what was quickly becoming a very boring trip. "Just gun it! Smash a cone or two. Pretend like you're chasing down a Nazi. Make her yelp or something."
But they completed the loop at the same moderate speed and drove past the parked motorcycle again. Captain Rogers' eyes followed it until it was out of sight, and then his brow creased with concentration and he focused on the course once more.
"Hey Grandpa," Clint said, poking his head between the front seats again. "Why does a motorcycle fall over?" He waited a beat, and then answered himself: "Because it's two tired."
Captain Rogers didn't crack a smile, and Clint heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I know. That one's terrible. But don't blame me; it's your joke, not mine. You told it to me once as a kid, and let's face it Grandpa, your joke game is weak. Besides, motorcycles are no laughing matter." His face grew more serious. "I knew a guy who got hurt really bad in a motorcycle accident. Lost the whole left side of his body. But don't worry." He paused. "He's all right now."
Crickets.
Suddenly, Clint laughed out loud at the absurdity of the situation. Okay, so he was performing for an audience of none. Well, technically one. Himself. Might as well enjoy this, since no one else was. It was all too clear that Agent Hill would continue to be oh-so-respectful with Captain Rogers, doing her level best not to let him have a PTSD episode on her watch. Little did she know that keeping him calm was the last thing he needed in this situation. The trouble with Grandpa was that he got too calm when he was stressed out. Like a turtle retreating into his shell. Someone needed to get him riled up. Blow off that steam. In a very safe and appropriate way, of course.
"Should we try the SUV next?" Hill asked Captain Rogers as he approached completion of the second loop through the course, and he nodded silently and headed back toward the parking strip.
"But seriously," Clint said in a conversational tone, casually turning to sit with his back to the Jeep's door, stretching his legs out along the bench, no longer caring that he didn't have an appreciative audience. "You know, Grandpa, when I got married to Karma, she was expecting a baby, and one day she was watching me work on my motorcycle, standing there with her belly all huge, when all of a sudden she was like, 'We should sell this and get something practical for the baby.'"
Clint shook his head sadly as Captain Rogers pulled up beside the motorcycle and put the Jeep into park. "I gotta be honest with you, Grandpa - I freaked out, and told her she sounded like my ex-wife. And then she freaked out and said, "I didn't know you were married before!" and I said-" Clint paused for dramatic effect. "-I wasn't."
Captain Rogers laughed.
Just a single laugh, barked out from his diaphragm like someone had accidentally sat on a bagpipe. It sounded like he hadn't laughed in a million years. And immediately he looked every bit as startled by his own laugh as Agent Hill did.
But neither one of them were half as startled as Clint was.
"Grandpa?" he blurted out, abruptly sitting up straight in the back seat. "Did you hear that?"
Immediately he knew that couldn't be it. Aunt Sarah had been very clear that he was in a different dimension here. Nothing he said or did could affect the real world.
But what on earth was Captain Rogers laughing at? Agent Hill hadn't spoken to him for several minutes.
"What's so funny?" she asked Captain Rogers curiously, a faint smile playing on her lips. But she had a hint of concern in her eyes, too. Oh, man. She probably thought his mind was unhinging. There was nothing about Captain America's reputation that suggested goofy spontaneity, especially not when he had been brought here today because he was on the verge of a meltdown.
"Nothing," Captain Rogers said quickly.
"No, really," Hill said in a friendly tone, turning in her seat to face him more fully. "I want to hear."
"Uh..." Captain Rogers shook his head a little. "Motorcycle joke."
Clint's heart seemed to skip a beat. Hill was looking at Captain Rogers expectantly. "Well?"
He smiled guiltily for a second, and then quickly assumed an apologetic expression. "Sorry. It wasn't... appropriate."
Hill looked faintly concerned at his evasion, but after a moment she just nodded and dropped the subject. "Okay. Let's give the SUV a try." She got out of the Jeep, while Captain Rogers slowly unfastened his seat belt, looking reluctant to move.
"Grandpa?" Clint blurted out, leaning forward between the seats and waving his hand in front of his face. "Can you hear me?"
He didn't flinch, even when Clint got brave enough to try actually grabbing his shoulder and shaking it. But there was no response. He was just a ghost here. An invisible ghost that had believed for one wild moment that the younger version of his grandfather had heard him tell a terrible joke.
"What the...?" he muttered.
Captain Rogers ignored him and got out of the Jeep and walked around to the driver's door of the SUV where Hill was waiting for him. He grabbed the door handle as if to get in, but then he just stood there, looking at nothing in particular. Hill's eyebrows puckered together, watching him.
"Grandpa..." Clint said, shaking his head in exasperation as he joined them. "Just do it already!"
"Actually-" Captain Rogers said with a forced casualness, meeting Hill's eyes. "Can we do the motorcycle next?"
Clint clicked his tongue behind his teeth approvingly. "And there it is."
"Absolutely," Hill said readily. "Let's try the motorcycle." She dug a key out of her pocket and handed it to him. "I assume you know what to do?"
Captain Rogers didn't bother responding. He strode over to the motorcycle, and all of a sudden there was an energy to his stride that hadn't been there before. He swung onto the seat, found the ignition and put the key in, turning it to the "on" position. Then he put the bike into neutral and flipped the kill switch, his movements quick and sure even though he couldn't have seen this exact model before.
Then he hesitated for a long moment before glancing up at Hill with an is this okay? kind of expression on his face, and Clint was struck by how young he looked. Since when did Grandpa need to ask permission to handle a bike that looked like it was practically made for him?
As if in response, Hill backed up a couple steps to give him room. Captain Rogers let out a quick breath, almost as if in preparation to charge into a fight, and then he pulled the clutch and pressed the starter button.
The engine roared to life.
Clint could practically see the blood rising to Captain Rogers' face. His hands curled around the handlebars with a possessive air that had been utterly lacking in his body language back in the Jeep, and then he revved the engine, testing its responsiveness. The noise washed over the three of them and the smell of exhaust filled the air. Clint couldn't help but grin, wishing he had his own bike here so that he could do a little revving of his own.
A slow smile spread across Captain Rogers' face, one that actually reached his eyes and crinkled them up at the corners. He turned to look at Hill again with a hint of joy glinting in his blue eyes. It was pretty obvious Hill had never seen that particular expression from Captain Rogers, because she looked openly surprised even as she reflexively smiled in response.
And then his heel kicked back the kickstand, and with a roar of the engine he took off. Not at the safe, moderate speed he'd been driving before. No, there was only one way to drive a bike like that, and Captain Rogers knew it. In seconds he was almost a blur, weaving confidently through the orange cones before turning in a long, slow curve to enter a different section of the driving course.
Putting on an extra burst of speed and crouching low over the handlebars, Captain Rogers zipped up a long ramp and then launched off it, that heavy bike soaring majestically through the air until it came back down with a bounce, the landing carefully controlled despite the fact that his speed had gone totally unchecked.
Clint glanced at Hill, who was watching this performance with an unexpected spark of glee in her own eyes.
"You're gonna be here a while," Clint told Hill wryly. "You don't know this yet, but... he can do this all day. Seriously. Just ask him. He'll tell you."
Hill didn't seem concerned. She reached up and touched her earpiece.
"Hey, Nick?" she said, a smile still lingering on her face. "You watching this? You know what, I think we should send him home with it. You're not going to believe this, but he actually smiled."
It was hard to wait until he was back in Aunt Sarah's front room to make his report, but Clint forced himself to hold his tongue until the portal snapped shut behind them.
"So how did it go?" Sarah asked him, pocketing her sling ring.
No point in beating around the bush. "Aunt Sarah?" Clint said, grasping both her shoulders and speaking with slow deliberateness: "I love you dearly, and you are a very sweet lady, and oh so very smart, just like a good little witch doctor should be, but respectfully, you are clear full of crap."
There was an awkward pause. "Excuse me?" Aunt Sarah said in a small, bewildered voice.
"You told me," Clint said, locking his eyes on hers as he emphasized each word, "that Grandpa couldn't see me or hear me."
"He can't. You're in a different dimension-"
Clint laughed in disbelief. "That is the biggest load of horse manure ever! He heard me! He laughed at one of my jokes!"
"Oh." Aunt Sarah relaxed and assumed a "poor dear Clint" expression. "No, honey. I know what you mean. I think we've all had a moment when we thought something like that, but it was just a coincidence. I promise."
"No," Clint said flatly. "He heard me."
She looked at him strangely. "So you took one trip through the Mirror Dimension and now you think you know better than the Masters of the Mystic Arts how it all works?"
"Yes! In this case, yes!"
Now it was Sarah's turn to laugh in disbelief. "What, just because my dad seemed to laugh at one of your jokes?"
"What joke did I laugh at?"
Clint and Sarah turned as one to see Grandpa standing in the doorway, looking at them both curiously.
"Aha!" Clint said excitedly, striding over to face him. "Okay, Grandpa. You're gonna prove it for me. You remember the day Hill took you to drive some cars around S.H.I.E.L.D.'s driving range?"
Grandpa looked taken aback. "Were you there?" he asked Clint, looking at him with considerable surprise.
"Yes, I was there! In the Mirror Dimension. And Hill was showing you a Jeep when all of a sudden you laughed for no reason at all. Do you remember that?"
Grandpa was staring at him.
"And she tried to get you to tell her what was so funny but you didn't want to because you said it wasn't an appropriate joke. Remember?"
Grandpa's brow creased. "Yeah, I remember."
"Okay, so what was the joke?" Clint demanded.
"Well-" Grandpa smiled a little, almost against his will. "It was just an old joke that popped into my head all of a sudden. About a guy who threatens to leave his pregnant wife because he loves his motorcycle more than her."
"Ha!" Clint shouted, turning back to Sarah and pointing both fingers at her in an accusatory way. "Ha! See, I told you you so! I told you!" He jabbed his thumbs into his chest vehemently. "I told Captain Rogers that joke, and then he laughed! See?"
Aunt Sarah looked gobsmacked. "What?"
"You were so, so wrong! All the Masters of the Mystic Arts..." Clint blew out a raspberry. "What a bunch of idiots! 'He can't see you or hear you.' Whatever!"
"Oh, Clint, honestly!" Sarah was half-laughing, but she still looked a little freaked out, too. "Was that really the joke you told him?"
Clint raised one fist and shook it dramatically for emphasis. "Yes, for the millionth time! Yes!"
Sarah whirled on Grandpa. "You heard that joke?" she demanded skeptically. "You actually heard a voice coming from the Mirror Dimension?"
"I didn't hear a voice," Grandpa said, looking thoughtful. "I was thinking about motorcycles, and then it just kinda popped into my head. I think I remembered it from somewhere."
"Well, where did you hear it first?" Sarah demanded. "Bucky? One of your Commandos?"
"It does sound like something Bucky would say," he admitted. He thought for a long moment, and then shook his head regretfully. "But I can't really remember where I heard it."
"Oh, now, see?" Clint said, gesturing meaningfully. "This guy and his perfect memory, and now all of a sudden he can't remember where he heard it? Come on! He heard it from me." He slapped his own chest twice.
"Well..." Aunt Sarah started, and then she paused, looking uncertain. "I mean, I see your point. What are the odds that the two of you would be thinking about the exact same joke at the same time? And... it's weird, but..." She trailed off reluctantly.
"What?" Clint asked.
"Well, sometimes I could swear Captain Rogers was responding to me, too," Sarah said slowly. "Some of the other family members said the same thing after a trip through the Mirror Dimension. I figured it was all just coincidence. But..." Suddenly she squared her shoulders and looked at her dad levelly. "Okay. Let's test this, Dad. Scientifically. Do you remember the time, back when you first got to the Retreat, when you went for a run through the woods late one night?"
Immediately Grandpa nodded his head. "Yeah. I was having one of my first episodes. Didn't really know how to handle it."
"Okay. Do you remember anything odd happening that night? Any moment when some thought popped into your head without explanation? Anything that felt like it wasn't coming from you?"
He was quiet for a moment. "Not a thought," he said finally. "More of a feeling. When I was out in the woods, I was feeling more alone than I ever had before. And then, all of a sudden... I didn't anymore."
Sarah was watching him intently. "What did you feel?"
"I felt..." He took a deep breath. "I thought I felt your mother's presence. It felt like she was telling me everything was going to be okay."
Sarah's eyes widened slowly.
"I didn't even know yet if she was alive or dead," Grandpa said softly. "And after a while, I think I convinced myself that it was just wishful thinking." He met Sarah's eyes, a crease forming between his eyes. "Are you saying Peggy was really there that night?"
"Not Mom," Sarah said slowly. "She wasn't well that day. It was Maggie. She was there watching over you. She told me she put her arms around you and tried to comfort you. And then she said you acted like you thought someone was out in the woods with you." She suddenly put a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Dad... I told her it was just her imagination!"
A long silence fell.
"I felt her," Grandpa murmured in awe at last. "I felt her. And Clint... I felt him too!" He stared at Aunt Sarah. "How is that possible?"
Sarah shook her head, looking excited at the discovery. "I don't know. There was no physical connection, that's for sure. But maybe... I mean, it sounds almost like what I experience when my chi merges with a patient's while I'm working on healing them. I wonder if something like that's happening here. After all, astral energy doesn't have the same limitations as physical matter. And I've noticed during my healing sessions that members of the same family often have a similar feel to their astral forms. We're all kinda... compatible with you, Dad. We run on the same wavelengths, so to speak."
"So Maggie's chi feels similar to Peggy's?" Grandpa said, latching onto her train of thought.
Sarah nodded eagerly. "Yeah. And Clint here... his chi probably feels a lot like yours, Dad. Enough to fool even you into thinking one of his thoughts was your own."
"Boy, just when you think things can't get weirder in our family..." Grandpa said whimsically.
"Are you telling me," Clint started deliberately, striving in vain to keep a smile from twitching at the corners of his mouth," that all this time you guys thought you were just watching Captain Rogers, but you were actually messing with his head the whole time?"
The chastened look that crossed Aunt Sarah's face was so comical that Clint could not stop himself from laughing out loud at her. For a second, he worried that he had gone too far - what if Sarah was the kind who couldn't take a little ribbing? - but then she smiled ruefully, shaking her head at her own oversight, and Grandpa was looking at Clint with open approval.
"Look at that, Clint," he said, slapping his back appreciatively. "You just discovered something none of the rest of us did."
"I did not. Maggie did," Clint shot back reflexively, but he couldn't help but feel an undeniable glow of satisfaction at his words. "She was just too meek and mild to contradict her own mother."
"Well, no one would ever accuse you of being meek and mild, Clint," Grandpa said. His face turned thoughtful. "I wonder why the Masters of the Mystic Arts never warned us about something like this?"
"Maybe they don't know," Sarah said slowly. "I don't think they really use the Mirror Dimension the way we've been using it. For them it's just a practical thing. A place to practice spells, or to follow someone without being seen, or even battle someone without inflicting collateral damage on the real world. We intended to-" she hesitated. "-to be your guardians, I suppose."
Grandpa and Sarah kept talking over the new discovery, but Clint could feel his attention wandering from the conversation.
Grandpa's approval just now had felt good. Unexpectedly good. And to his own shock, suddenly Clint found himself feeling glad that this "easy peasy" assignment that he didn't think he could possibly mess up had just turned out to be something that he actually could have messed up after all. Suppose he'd entered the Mirror Dimension after having a bad day and accidentally projected some horrible negativity in Captain Rogers' direction, making him even more miserable than he already was?
But he hadn't. He hadn't even known he was in a position to help... and he'd managed to help. He'd given Captain Rogers a reason to smile. On a day when he'd clearly believed he had nothing to smile about.
Is it really as easy as that? he wondered to himself. Is doing a mission just showing up and being myself? I wasn't even trying to save anyone or anything.
And then he had an even stranger thought, one that scared him in a way the previous one hadn't.
How much more could I do if I really tried?
TO BE CONTINUED
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